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hard-core-super-star · 2 days ago

Text

brought you together so nice [W.Maximoff + N.Romanoff]

pairing: dom!natasha romanoff x sub!reader x switch!wanda maximoff

summary: natasha takes care of you until wanda comes back. needless to say, the witch is more than happy about the arrangement you both came up with in her absence.

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DO NO INTERACT -> porn with very little plot but even more feelings; mommy + daddy kink; slightly more established dom/dub dynamics; a dash of pet play (as usual); bondage; gagging; soft domme nat + bratty wanda!!!!; vibrator use [R receiving]; praise + degradation + a dash of humiliation; hair pulling; spanking; aftercare

wordcount: 4.1k

a/n: well, well, well...guess who got too attached to another series? yup, me 😅 these two have taken up more of my mind than i originally thought so here is part three of this little series. i don't have a plan to make another full part, but i might mess around and write a few blurbs here and there. we'll see what happens. anyway, thank you for all your support, especially regarding this little series. i'm thinking of opening my requests back up until the start of the new year so keep an eye out for that ;) [commissions are still more than welcome, though!] okay, i'll stop rambling for now, hope you enjoy <3

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Natasha could be sweet when she wanted to.

That was the first thing you learned after agreeing to become her and Wanda's submissive.

The rules and details weren't too clear yet, the redhead promising to answer all your questions as soon as the Sokovian came back from her mission. Still, she did what she could to fill in the gaps of your knowledge, allowing you to ask her as many questions as you pleased before showing you, in great detail, what she meant.

Despite the cold exterior you'd learned to love, she was much softer with you than you'd ever imagined. Sure, she was still a mean domme at heart, but she wanted to show you heights of pleasure you'd never experienced before.

And she went to great lengths to guarantee it.

It quickly became clear to you how much she loved impact play. Even outside of play sessions, she would always come up behind you, landing a hard smack to your ass before pulling you into her arms. You didn't mind, even when she did it in front of the others.

(Although Tony did whistle at you guys once and promptly earned himself a punch to the stomach. He laughed it off but made sure to never tease the Widow about her behavior with you again.)

You knew there were a lot of things you didn't know or fully understand, but Natasha always seemed to find a way to make you feel more excited than nervous about it. It was almost funny how quickly her personality changed once she allowed you to see past her walls.

Sure, she was still a little mean and more than a little snarky (which is exactly how you liked her, if you were being honest) yet there was a softer, affectionate, side that started coming out more and more.

She told you it was simply because Wanda wasn't around and she wasn't allowed to "break you in" without her around. Maybe it was a silly excuse perfectly crafted to keep you on your toes, but you didn't really mind.

Well, except because you really missed Wanda.

Being without the witch was harder than you thought it would be, but the Widow kept you busy enough to forget the empty spot beside you in their bed.

Your bed.

That was the second thing Natasha made you learn.

Yes, you were technically an addition to their relationship, but you weren't an outsider. You never were.

That was the third thing you learned.

Both Natasha and Wanda had their eyes on you from the very beginning. They loved each other, and their relationship made them happier than they could put into words, and yet they always felt something was missing. A third energy to keep them in check. To stop them from getting too rough, too mean with each other. To help remember how to be soft after spending so much time fighting with the world.

It was...strange, but you couldn't deny what they meant to you. The attraction you felt toward them had always been there and after Wanda opened that door...well, let's just say there was no going back.

You didn't understand how real that was until now.

Because somehow, someway, after carrying guilt you didn't even need to have in the first place, you were here.

You were theirs.

You were waking up in their bed with Natasha's arms wrapped tight around your waist.

A shudder ran down your body as the redhead's lips met your bare shoulder, peppering kisses across the skin. "Morning, detka. Sleep well?"

"Yeah," you reply as a smile forms on your face. "You're a fantastic cuddler."

"Shut up," she mumbles. There's a clear lack of annoyance in her words despite her attempts at sounding tough. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Your grip on me begs to differ."

At your response, her hands move to grip your waist, her nails digging into your soft skin. The sensation makes you gasp, your back arching almost instantly. You can feel the redhead smiling against your skin. It hasn't been that long and she already knows your body better than you do.

"Sorry, were you saying something?" She says, taking advantage of your reactions to grind against your ass. "You seem a little distracted."

It's a bit of a cruel game but it's one she loves to play with you. Truth be told, she loves playing with you, period. You're so different from Wanda, so much more responsive, more honest about your constant neediness.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you mumble, not so subtly grinding back against her.

Just because you were slowly learning the rules regarding your place didn't mean you didn't love pushing Natasha's buttons whenever you could. Which really only happened in the mornings and during aftercare. Those were the only two moments when the older woman allowed herself to be soft with you, to let you see behind the walls she'd expertly put up to keep everyone out. Everyone except you and Wanda, it seems.

Her voice remains low, straddling the border between a tease and a warning. "Is my good girl trying to be a brat?"

Your heart skips a beat at her words. At the mention of being her good girl. Of being hers.

After the rough beginning your relationship had, you never thought you'd be let into her heart in any way. And yet here you are. You're her good girl, her kitten, her darling submissive.

"No..." You trail off, trying to decide whether to behave or push her buttons a little more. Ultimately, your desire to be a little shit wins out. "...Daddy."

Natasha chuckles behind you, her hands moving from your hips and toward your breasts. She gives them a soft squeeze as her thumbs tease your hardening nipples. "Oh, kotenok, you woke up cheeky this morning, huh? You know what mouthing off like that will earn you, right?"

You do know. She's told you many, many times before, usually while she's praising you for being so good for her and drawing out orgasm after orgasm from your overstimulated body.

However, she's never actually acted out any of her warnings. It's a good thing, you know that, and yet you can't stop yourself from wanting to see what it will feel like. To explore what that kind of submission will do to you.

"Yes, Daddy. I know."

She hums before going right back to kissing across your shoulders, nipping at your skin just to get you to arch into her teasing hands. "I see...you want to be punished, don't you? Want Daddy to remind you of your place until there's nothing else inside your mind?"

You're about to reply when you're interrupted by F.R.I.D.A.Y. "Miss Romanoff, Miss Maximoff has asked me to notify you of her return."

Your cheeks flush, even though the disembodied voice can't see what exactly you're up to this morning. At the very least, F.R.I.D.A.Y. is a lot less nosy than Jarvis ever was. Although, if you're being honest, you liked him better before he turned into a robot.

"I'm assuming she'll be at the Medbay for a while?" The Widow replies, her mind no doubt full of the things she'll do to you to pass the time.

"Yes, it seems she'll be there for the next half hour."

"Good. Thank you, Friday."

The AI doesn't reply and you can practically imagine her making a swift exit out of the room, leaving you to face whatever it is that the redhead has come up with.

"y/n..." Natasha purrs, her breath hot against your ear. "I have an idea. Why don't we give Mommy a nice surprise, hmm? Don't you want to be her pretty welcome back gift?"

You're not sure what being Wanda's "welcome back gift" will entail, but you can't deny your curiosity about it. Especially since the witch has no idea what you and her girlfriend have been up to. You have no doubt she has her suspicions, she is a mind reader after all, but it'll still be nice to surprise her.

You agree before you even know what you're doing, and Natasha wastes no time in springing into action.

In a matter of minutes, you go from lying comfortably under the covers to being spread out on your back, your limbs tied to each corner of the bed. You're exposed, vulnerable, and you love every second of it.

Of course, Natasha isn't satisfied with that. No, to top off the pretty sight you make, she places a deep, dark red ball gag between your lips. You shouldn't be surprised since, after all, you did ask for it.

"There we go," the redhead hums appreciatively, her eyes taking in the beautiful sight. "Now, just sit tight, okay, detka? I'll be right back."

You whine instantly, but she pays no mind to you, quickly making her way out of the bedroom and going to look for Wanda. You're not exactly happy about being left alone yet, there's nothing you can do. All you can do is throw your head back in frustration and wait for your lovers to return.

You're not sure how much time goes by, although there's no doubt in your mind that Natasha does her best to draw out their return just to mess with you, but eventually, they make their way back to you.

The sound of the door opening makes you practically vibrate with excitement, your hips wiggling from side to side without thinking.

"Well, would you look at that," Wanda says as she steps further into the room. "Looks like someone was having fun without me."

Natasha follows her in, standing behind her and wrapping her arms around her waist. There's something so domestic about the action that makes your heart clench.

"I had to get her ready for you, darling," the redhead replies as her chin finds the other woman's shoulder. "She looks good, doesn't she?"

"She sure does. I take it you worked out your issues?"

"We came to an...agreement, yes. I couldn't let you have all the fun."

Wanda chuckles, the corners of her mouth quirking up into a fond smile. There's no mistaking the fire in her eyes, though, the desire simmering below the surface. "And you said I was crazy for wanting her to join us."

The Widow grumbles, clearly not quite ready to admit her girlfriend was right. "You're still not off the hook, you let her believe you cheated on me."

"When are you going to let that go?"

"I'm not sure, maybe you should make it up to me."

Natasha's eyes remain on you but Wanda turns around, silencing her girlfriend's complaints with a fiery kiss. All you can do is watch, feeling left out and far too involved at the same time. You're slowly getting used to their competitive antics.

Their kisses turn desperate in nothing short of a few seconds, leaving you far too desperate and needy while you squirm around on the bed. They take their sweet time getting back to you, though, instead letting their hands wander over each other's bodies.

You'd love to complain but you're still gagged so talking is pretty much impossible. More than that...you can't say you're not loving the view. It makes you feel a little dirty, like you're watching an intimate scene you shouldn't be, and it brings a rush unlike anything you've ever felt before.

They know, because of course they know, and your obvious arousal only motivates them to tease you.

Natasha moves first, expert hands reaching for the hem of Wanda's shirt and lifting it over her head in an instant. "I missed you."

"Are you talking to me or my boobs?" The witch replies with a perfectly raised eyebrow.

"I'm talking to all of you."

"Nice save, 'Tasha."

"Shut up."

There's something comforting about the scene in front of you, even as your frustration builds. You've been with them before, but it's different this time. You can feel the change in energy, the easy chemistry that flows between all of you now that Natasha isn't trying to push you away.

"Come on, I think we've teased our good girl long enough," Wanda says, taking the redhead's hand and leading her toward the bed. "Isn't that right, sweetheart? You're feeling a little frustrated, hmm?"

You nod desperately in response, tugging at the rope that holds you down. Your actions only make both of your lovers chuckle.

"Look at her, she's drenched and we haven't gotten started yet," Natasha comments, her eyes trailing up and down your body like a predator assessing its prey.

"I'm guessing this means training's going well."

"She's a quick learner. A bit bratty sometimes, though."

The way they talk about you as if you're not a part of the conversation has you clenching around pure air. It doesn't help that the Widow is so accurate in her assessment of you. You love being submissive, being under their control, but you can't deny how much fun it is to disobey. To push against the boundaries she's set for you, not to defy her but to tease her. Maybe even test her a little.

It's far too fun.

"Is that right, sweetheart?" Wanda asks, even though your body language makes it clear how correct Natasha is. "I thought you liked being our good girl. Because if you don't, well...you know what happens to naughty girls, don't you?"

Of course you know. It was one of the first things the redhead taught you. Sure, the rules and terms weren't too fleshed out yet since Natasha had wanted her girlfriend to be a part of the whole exchange, but she'd gone over most things with you. Rewards, punishments, hard limits, all that stuff.

You're unable to tell the witch that, though, thanks to the gag in your mouth. Your incoherent mumbles seem to entertain her for a few seconds while Natasha sneaks off toward their closet.

Wanda's chuckle cuts through the air. Your attempts at convincing her you've been good clearly amuse her. "I know, baby, I know you like being good. Otherwise, Nat wouldn't be so attached to you."

"I'm not attached," the redhead grumbles.

A month ago, her words would have made your heart drop into your stomach. Now, though, you know she's only playing a part. She has no problem telling you how she feels outside of a scene, but when you're playing, when you're being their pet, she's right back to being mean. Right back to degrading you and humiliating you until you're riding the edge of pleasure and pain.

"Keep telling yourself that, darling."

"Oh, I will."

Their banter is borderline comforting. You've loved spending time with Natasha, but this, being with them and seeing their personalities come together, this is where you thrive.

Well, it's not like you're doing much. Then again, they like you most when you're like this. Vulnerable, at their mercy, and so obviously loving every second of it.

Wanda climbs onto bed with you, crawling over your body until she's hovering over you with a gentle smile that steals all your worries away. "'Tasha's such a liar, isn't she, sweetheart? It's okay, let her act like she's the big bad."

You want to laugh, but it's a little hard when she's leaning down to pepper kisses all over your face. The action is far softer than what you were expecting and it makes your heart soar.

You were ready for a rougher training session, for a trial run meant to show you what you had been missing in the witch's absence. But this? This is really good too.

Wanda continues her loving assault on your skin, trailing kisses down your jaw and toward your neck. You tilt your head back in response, earning a soft giggle muffled against your skin, as she kisses and nibbles all up and down your throat. There's no doubt in your mind that she's littering your skin with hickies and noticeable marks, but you find you really don't mind it.

The witch steals your attention long enough for Natasha to gather a few supplies before making her way over to you. You feel her set a few things down next to you, but you don't get to see what they are. Not that you really mind considering how busy your mind is.

"Stop hogging her attention, that's not very fair."

"It's not my fault you left her so fuzzy-headed. Poor girl didn't even stand a chance, huh?"

You shake your head, a few muffled whines making their way out of you.

Natasha chuckles as she shifts onto her knees next to you. Her hands find their way between you and Wanda's bodies, teasing your skin as she explores the territory she's spent the past few days claiming.

"Oh, please. This is nothing. You should've seen the state she was in last night."

The reminder makes you squirm in your restraints, trying to get closer to them to no avail. You know how desperate you look, how absolutely needy you are, but you can't find it in yourself to care. This is what you had been waiting for. To be completely theirs. To surrender to them and accept everything they were willing to give you. Sure, it was intimidating and yet it felt incredibly right.

"Are you trying to make me jealous?" Wanda responds, working her way down your body, expertly avoiding the areas where her girlfriend is touching you.

"You deserve it. Wasn't this your fantasy?"

"Maybe. It was hers first, though. Isn't that right, detka?"

The change in topic makes you blush. It shouldn't be surprising to hear that the witch had already known about your feelings for her but it's still a little embarrassing. At least she seems to enjoy it.

You nod, your movements slightly frantic and no doubt fueled by the feeling of her lips on your flushed skin. She takes her time dragging her lips up and down your inner thighs as Natasha teases your hardening nipples.

"Such a good little slut. I bet you're already so fuzzy. Just want your cunt played with and nothing else." The redhead distracts you with her words, leaving you completely unprepared for Wanda's continued assault.

You don't hear the thrumming sound of the vibrator coming to life, but you sure feel it against your sensitive clit. Your whole body shudders in response as your hips buck in a desperate attempt to escape the overwhelming sensation.

Your reaction makes the witch laugh and she leans down to press a few more kisses to your thighs. "There you go, that's what I like to see."

Her words feel more like humiliation than praise and yet you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when it feels so good that it borders on painful.

"Excuse you, we were having a little chat." Natasha's tease is coupled with a firm grip in your hair as she tilts your head toward her. "I'll have to train you if you don't fix that attention span, pet."

"Be nice, Nat, it's not her fault she likes me more."

"God, you're such a brat, Maximoff." Her free hand leaves your body to land a sharp smack against Wanda's ass. "I'll put you in your place too, if I have to."

The witch hums in response, very clearly pushing herself back against the redhead's hand. "You know I'd enjoy it."

Natasha spanks her again and the sight has you bucking your hips faster as you search for more pleasure. You let out a string of whines, already feeling yourself on the edge of an orgasm. It's a little embarrassing how quickly you're reaching your limit but in your defense, you've been worked up ever since you woke up. You were bound to lose from the beginning.

"Don't tell me you want to cum already, sweetheart? We've barely gotten started."

You want to defend yourself, but your attempts are instant failures. Natasha seems to get off on how pathetic you sound, though.

"It's alright, kitten, why don't you go ahead and cum for me? Mommy hasn't earned her reward just yet."

Wanda opens her mouth to object but she doesn't get very far since the redhead goes right back to spanking her.

You're not used to seeing the witch in a slightly more submissive position. She always seem to straddle the border between being fully in control and immersed below Natasha's dominance. This change of pace is more than welcome, though.

The vibrator gets pushed harder against your sensitive clit and the pressure sends you over the edge almost instantly. You don't get a chance to warn them, all you can do is give in to the sudden pleasure as your body trembles beneath them.

They're both distracted by the sight of your orgasm crashing into you so suddenly. So beautifully.

"What a good girl," Natasha murmurs appreciatively. "You could learn a thing or two from her, Wands."

"Whatever." You miss the way the witch rolls her eyes since your eyes are more than a little blurry and there's a soft ringing in your ears. "It won't be my fault when she forgets her place, Daddy."

That earns her another spank, but she's too busy moving the vibrator away from your drenched cunt to care. You whine softly at the loss of contact even though you feel far too sensitive to take much more.

Apparently, you look as out of it as you feel because the older women take a few moments to let you catch your breath.

Wanda's hands gently stroke up and down your legs to keep you grounded while Natasha shifts closer, her hands reaching out to undo the ballgag. "How are you feeling, kotenok? Do you want to keep going?"

Your throat's a little dry, but you manage to form a reply. "I'm okay. Just need to catch my breath."

The Widow nods before reaching over to grab the bottled water on the nightstand. She helps you take a few sips of water while Wanda continues to caress your skin, both giving you as much time as you need to recover. It's such a small thing and yet it's a reminder of why you're so attached to them. Why you need them more and more with every day that goes by.

Your relationship with them might have had a bit of a rough start, but you couldn't imagine a better outcome. Couldn't imagine two better people to surrender your heart to.

"Someone's in a romantic mood," Wanda pipes up with a soft smile.

Her words cause an instant response in you and you feel your face grow warmer by the second. "Why are you in my mind right now?"

"Because your thoughts about me are so loud," she replies almost instantly. "Don't look so embarrassed, detka, I think it's cute."

"Shut up," you mumble, momentarily forgetting where you are and what you're in the middle of doing.

Wanda's smile turns slightly dark and her hand comes down against your thigh before you can even think about what you did wrong. "Where'd your manners go, huh?"

The sensation makes you shiver, but Natasha reaches a hand out to stop the witch from smacking your thigh again. "Time out, darling. I don't think we're quite ready to keep going."

You want to argue with her and yet you make no real effort to. As much as you might want to keep going, you can't deny how overwhelming it all was...and how desperate you are for some cuddles.

"Sorry," you mumble.

Wanda instantly shushes you as she uses her magic to undo the restraints keeping you tied down. "Nonsense, you have nothing to apologize for."

The second your limbs are free, Natasha's hands are on you again. This time, though, she merely maneuvers you onto your side so she's able to slide in behind you. The second her arms wrap around your waist, your shoulders let go of the tension they've been holding.

Wanda wastes no time in joining the two of you, laying down in front of you and reaching up to play with your hair. "Just relax, we have all day to pick up where we left off."

"Don't rush her, little witch."

Natasha's words make you chuckle and you lean forward until you're practically buried in the witch's chest. "I'm okay, guys. I don't break easily."

A beat of silence goes by as they allow you to soak in the afterglow, in the feeling of their embrace.

But the Widow really can't help herself.

"Are you sure? Maybe we should test that out."

Her words are a tease, but none of you can deny your curiosity...or your arousal.

Needless to say, you spend most of the day tangled up in their bed.

Your bed.

With the two women who mean the absolute world to you.

#wandanat x reader #wanda maximoff x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #wandanat #wandanat smut #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #mommy wanda #avengers fanfiction #marvel fic #mcu imagine #wlw fic #writing

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v6quewrlds · 13 hours ago

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can u write a fluffy clingy joe one shot?? maybe building legos or something!! i love ur work!! i hope u have a nice day!!🫶🏾

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀author's note: here's a fluffy little palette cleanser <3

‎ ‎ ⁎⠀┉⠀word count: 0.9k.

The scent of cinnamon wafted through the air as you stirred the pot of homemade hot chocolate on the stove. You glanced at the clock; it was already past six in the evening, and the darkness outside pressed against the windows like a heavy blanket.

"Joe," you began as you poured the steaming liquid into two oversized mugs, "I understand you're upset, but maybe you should take this week to recharge. Watch some movies, play some video games, do something that doesn't involve football."

Joe sighed, taking the mug from you with a nod of gratitude. "You're probably right," he admitted. "But it's hard to sit still when all I can think about is what we could be doing to fix things."

You kissed his forehead gently. "You can't control everything, Joey. Sometimes you just have to trust that things will pan out the way they're meant to." You leaned in for a quick peck, then stepped back to pick up your warm mug.

Joe sighed again, his eyes lingering on the TV that was muted in the living room, displaying highlights of the Cavs-Pelicans game. "Fine," he said finally.

You raised an eyebrow. "Fine?"

"Fine," Joe repeated, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Can we build that Lego set we got last Christmas?"

Your eyes lit up. "Seriously?" You had been dying to tackle the intricate, sprawling Star Wars that had remained in its box since Joe's brother, Dan, gifted it for Christmas. "You know I've been waiting for this moment."

Joe nodded with a hint of excitement in his voice. "Yeah, I figured it's time we put it together." He followed you to the living room, where you cleared the coffee table with a dramatic flourish.

You sat down across from each other, the instructions sprawled out between you. You picked up the instructions, your eyes scanning the pages. "Okay, we're building the Death Star," you said with a smile. "Where do we start?"

Joe leaned over, his sarcasm in full swing. "I'm surprised you remember what it is. You're the one who said it looked like a giant space donut when we opened the box."

You playfully rolled your eyes. "Hey, I know my Star Wars!" you protested. "The 4,000-piece count kind of took me by surprise, though."

Joe chuckled, sifting through the pieces. "Alright, space donut expert, let's get to it."

Your eyes were glued to the instructions, the pieces scattered around the two of you like a colorful minefield. A soft laugh filled the room as you held up a tiny Lego stormtrooper, your thumb and forefinger framing it like a photograph. "Look at this little guy," you said, grinning. "He's so cute."

"Cute? He's a symbol of imperial tyranny, babe," Joe retorted with a chuckle, earning a playful shove from you. Despite his initial hesitation, Joe was fully invested in the project. His mind was clear of the team dynamics that had consumed him all week. The Legos demanded his focus, and he gave it willingly.

You took a sip of your now lukewarm cocoa and leaned in closer to examine Joe's progress. "Looks pretty impressive," you said.

Joe glanced up, his cheeks reddening slightly. "It's just Legos," he said, but you could hear the pride in his voice.

"No, it's not just Legos," you replied, setting your mug down. "I love it when you get all focused like this for something other than football. It's cute."

Joe rolled his eyes, but the corners of his mouth turned up in a smile. "Cute, huh?"

You nodded. "Yeah, like a big ol' teddy bear."

"Teddy bear?" Joe scoffed, but the playful teasing had lightened his mood. "I'll have you know I'm a very intimidating Lego architect."

You couldn't help but laugh at his defensive tone. "Oh, absolutely," you said, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "I'm quaking in my boots."

Joe smirked and tossed a Lego at you. It bounced off your arm and you feigned injury. "Careful there, Burrow," you said, your voice full of mock pain. "You wouldn't want to hurt the one who's keeping you fed and hydrated."

"Well, you're not helping much with the whole 'keeping me hydrated' part," Joe quipped, nodding towards his nearly empty mug. "I'll need more of that hot cocoa if I'm going to get through this."

You stood up with a smile. "Your wish is my command," you said, practically skipping back to the kitchen. As you brought the pot to a boil again, you watched Joe through the archway. The stress of the season had etched lines into his face, but as he worked on the Death Star, you could see them slowly smoothing out.

When you returned with the freshly filled mug, Joe took a grateful sip and leaned back, eyeing the progress. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "I've been so caught up in work that I forgot how much I enjoy just... doing nothing."

You sat back down on the floor, your mug now steaming in your hands. "It's important to have hobbies," you agreed, your voice gentle. "Things that make you happy outside of football."

Joe nodded, his eyes lingering on you for a moment before returning to the Legos. "You're right," he murmured, his voice a mix of acceptance and regret. "I just... I want to win so badly."

You leaned over to kiss him on the cheek. "I know you do," you said softly. "And you will. But you'll have to wait a week to do it. For now, just enjoy the quiet."

#&. cassie writes.#joe burrow #cincinnati bengals #joe burrow x reader #bengals #cincinnati football #joe burrow bengals #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow imagine #joe burrow fluff #black!fem!reader #x black fem reader #black!oc #x black reader #black!reader #black reader

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mrsshabana · 6 hours ago

Text

𝐆𝐢𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐫. 𝐂𝐫𝐚𝐰𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐭𝐡 :･ﾟ✧

꒦꒷‧₊ Content Mr. Crawling x gender!neutral!reader, MDNI, nudity, fluff, suggestive but no smut ꒦꒷‧₊ Note 1.5k words. Mr. Crawling is so cute, I just had to write a fic where we take care of him. He deserves it (╥ ‸ ╥)

He followed you like a lost puppy.

The entity that clung to you like his life depended on it, refusing to return to the world in which he came from. His intentions aren't clear, but he isn't causing any harm so you had no issue with him sticking around.

Mr. Crawling was what you called him. He spoke a strange language you couldn't understand at first, but after spending so much time with him you picked it up after a while.

When you get home from work he's always so excited to see you, chirping excitedly and grinning widely at the sight of his favorite human.

As soon as you arrive he sticks to you like glue, watching you as you do mundane tasks or relax around the house.

Tonight you were making spaghetti, and Mr. Crawling seemed extra intrigued by you cooking the dish.

He peers up at the stovetop, watching as you heat up the tomato sauce. His curiosity gets the best of him as he tries to get a better view, he bumps into you. Causing the red sauce to topple over and spill all over him.

"Mr.Crawling!" you shout, "I'm so sorry!"

He just smiles and licks the sauce off of his face. Seemingly not affected by the hot temperature or the fact that it has splattered all over his clothes.

"You ok?" you ask in his language.

"Me surprise! Saturate clothes, hair, body!" he says between giggles.

You're glad he finds it funny and he's not upset. You don't know what you'd do if you ever saw Mr. Crawling cry.

But he's right, he's completely covered in sauce and his clothes will need to be washed right away.

You kneel down to his level and wipe away the excess sauce with a paper towel, "Me take care of you."

"Me grateful," he smiles wide, leaning into your touch as you clean him off.

You know this won't be enough though, he needs a bath. But you feel slightly awkward giving him one. Not that you mind caring for him, but as far as you know there isn't a word for bath or clean in his language so you don't know how to ask him if he's okay with it. And the thought of seeing Mr. Crawling naked... well you've never really considered it before. But thinking about it makes your cheeks redden and your body heat up.

First things first, after cleaning the chunks of tomato you take his hand and lead him into the bathroom before you try explaining to him.

"Um... Mr. Crawling," you mumble, "Me change you clothes. Water container. You give clothes?" You try to explain it to the best of your ability as you hold out your hand.

"Saturate clothes, water correct! Me give," he nods and takes off his clothes.

There's no embarrassment or shyness evident as he removes his clothes. Mr. Crawling is either just too innocent, or he's just so comfortable around you that he knows he has nothing to be shy or embarrassed about.

You try not to look at his body as you take his clothes. Hurried walking to the laundry room and shoving them into the machine at a rushed pace.

You know he's waiting patiently for you to return and give him his bath but you have to try to calm down first! Your creepy cute ghostly roommate is naked in your bathroom right now and you're freaking out!

Mr. Crawling may act like a pet, but this isn't like giving your dog a bath or something! Maybe it feels so strange because your relationship with Mr. Crawling isn't well-defined.

He's obviously obsessed with you and adores you in every way, but is it romantic? You aren't sure...

However, you do feel confident that Mr. Crawling wouldn't say no to being in a romantic relationship with you if you asked. Judging by how he constantly craves your affection, touch, and attention - he'd probably love it.

And you'd be lying to yourself if you ignored the feelings you had for him. Sure he's not human, but he's so sweet and genuinely cares about you.

Before you met him sometimes you felt like if you disappeared no one would care. You felt insignificant in the grand scheme of things. On lonely nights you'd question why you're even here at all. Is there even a point?

But Mr. Crawling changed all of that.

When you leave, you know Mr. Crawling is always waiting in front of the door for you to return. No matter how long it took, even if it was 100 years, he would still wait for you.

He makes you feel important for the first time in your life. Like if something happened to you he wouldn't rest until he was able to have you again - even if he spent eternity searching for you. He wouldn't stop looking for his favorite human. That's how much you mean to him.

And if that's not the definition of love then you don't know what is. Because it's obvious that Mr. Crawling loves you, and honestly you love him too.

"Mr. Crawling..." you whisper as you walk into the bathroom again.

He turns and makes that high-pitched sound he makes when he's happy.

"Water container, correct," you say, patting his head as you start the faucet.

"Me go into?" he tilts his head to the side, not sure what to do. The gesture is cute and makes you smile.

You nod, "You go into container."

Even though he's never had a bath before, he trusts you and gets into the tub. Watching in awe as his long hair floats to the surface, creating long black streaks within the water.

You can't help but blush as you look at his body. Never had you expected him to be so toned under his loose-fitting clothes. Especially his chest and arms. But it makes sense, he crawls around all day so his upper body strength has to be good, right?

Now that you're seeing him like this, you can't help but notice how long his legs are too. You've never actually seen him stand so it never occurred to you how tall he could be. Judging by how he fits into the tub, he must be taller than any person you've ever met before.

Imagine if he stood up like this...

Your thoughts drift and you get distracted, accidentally pouring loads of bubble bath into the tub instead of just a tad to keep him occupied.

"Fun! Fun!" He shouts excitedly as the tub fills with foaming bubbles, completely covering his body and overflowing from the tub.

"Shit!" you say under your breath, cursing yourself for letting those perverted thoughts sneak into your head. You can't stay mad though as you watch him giggle and play with the bubbles. Why does he have to be so freaking cute?

As he has the time of his life, you dig through the bubbles to clean him. Starting with his body and finishing with his hair. Taking over an hour to wash his hair alone.

As you clean his hair he experiments with these fluffy white things he's never seen before. Curiously eating them, sculpting them with his hands, and even putting them on you. He takes a clump of bubbles and forms them into cat ears on the top of your head.

"You cute!" he shouts excitedly.

You smile and do the same for him, "You cute!"

"We cute together!!" he smiles, having the funnest time with you.

Finally, once he's been all cleaned you help him dry off as he sits on your bathroom floor, watching curiously as the bubbles get sucked down the drain.

His clothes aren't quite done yet so in the meantime you let him wear an old pair of pajamas. They're pink Hello Kitty pajamas to be exact. Sure you had a plain black set that would do as well, but you just couldn't resist putting him in this. He looks so adorable as he crawls into the bed with you, laying on your lap as you brush his hair.

"Water container fun..." he mumbles on the edge of falling asleep, "Again again."

"Fun again," you smile, promising to give him another bath someday.

"Thank you," he nuzzles into you, "Me like you. Like you much..."

"Me like you much," you kiss the top of his head, "Me take care of you, you rest."

He doesn't want to sleep, he wants to stay up with you all night taking baths and playing with bubbles. But being in your embrace as you take care of him is just too much to resist. He hopes you'll do this again soon, or maybe you'll let him give you a bath and brush your hair next time.

He quickly drifts off to sleep, thinking about all of the fun things he wants to do with you. Meanwhile, you sit there and brush his long hair for another hour. Though you don't mind. Sitting here with him, brushing his hair as he sleeps on your lap, it doesn't get any better than this.

#mr. crawling #mr crawling #mr crawling x reader #mr. crawling x reader #homicipher #homicipher x reader #文字化化

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waynes-multiverse · 2 days ago

Text

Giiiiirrrrrl, I'm back. Finally 😅

(It's been awhile lol We need to catch up in dms 👀)

I was so excited to get into this story, this universe, this character, and, most of all, your immaculate writing 🤓😍 (I finally caught up on all things Tracker, so nothing is stopping me from devouring this deliciousness now 😋)

First of, Professor Goldstein is a piece of work... 😒 I wouldn't blame her for spitting into his coffee every time he calls her sweetheart. But Russell, I see you. She's gonna be so annoyed with him 😂

As a Professor of History with two doctorates in your name

Ooooh, another professor character paired with some rugged Mountain Man 😏 I'm addicted to those couples. She's all business up front, and he's all party in the back (seat of his Chevelle) 🤪

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to run. Meeting my massage therapist at noon,” he said

UGH. The nerve!!!!! Massage therapist????? How about I step on your back with my high heels, bro...

And then to go on about his trip and parasailing... Guess it's true. Ignorant people are happier 😂

Why, oh why did the Sciences building have to be on the other side of campus?

Or why are campuses so big in general? My university actually had several faculties strewn throughout the city. Sometimes it took an hour and several subway rides to get to your next lecture 😅

and these heels were killing your feet.

She needs a pair of sneakers in her purse. Or rollerskates!!! One of those electric scooters? 🤓 (Dory's or Russell's next Xmas present for her would be something like this after they listened to her complain for months lmao)

Goldstein’s up my ass again and all I’ve had today is a crusty donut from the teacher’s lounge, which I’m pretty sure was stale,” you said, with your brows furrowed in frustration.

Please tell me Russell's in the room when she said that 😄🤞

When you finally looked up from your struggles, you realized that Dory wasn’t alone. She smiled at you in amusement, sitting at her desk beside a man who made you pause. Your eyes widened.

Yes, he is. Bahahahaha!!! 🤣🤣🤣

He's gonna love her 😝

Dory had told you some…interesting things about her family, including the fact that she had two older brothers.

Ooooh, right! I wonder how much she knows about the Shaws. Not something that comes casually up in the cafetaria I imagine 😅

“Sriracha on fries, huh?” you remarked, gesturing at the man’s plate. Your brow was quirked, but he shot you a smile. “I said avert your eyes,” he teased. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, sweetheart.” Ugh. Another sweethearting man.

Love this whole exchange. You're making my dreams come true, babe 😘

“You gave her some PTSD,” Dory said with a laugh.

Dead 🤣🤣🤣

His tousled hair and beard, while well-trimmed and neat, still gave him a roguish quality.

I keep thinking he probably has that look now because he was in the army for so long. Young Russell was pretty much young Dean Winchester in a uniform (hello there, soldier 😏)

“Guilty. Though I’m the handsome one,” he said with a wink.

Well... It's a toss-up, I'd say 😆

You raised a brow at that. “You make your own beer?”

In. His. Car 🚩🚩🚩😂

“Next time I’ll bring you some. You can tell me what you think.”

If any strange man said that to you... 🚩🤣

“You know, it’s amazing how much you and Colter have in common,” Dory said.

Well, at least, Colter has an Airstream 😅🤷‍♀️

His intentions couldn’t be any clearer than a mallet over the head, but you kind of found it endearing.

He is a professional flirt. Kind eyes...

“So you’re on board with a ‘next time.’ Good to know,” Russell remarked.

Dear God, he does not stop, does he? 😆 (On the show, I loved his persistence with Reenie too, even though it was mainly just to annoy Colter. But you captured him beautifully here with this sort of charm 🥰)

PS: schmutz, schlep... I love the sprinkles of Yiddish in this 🤓

“Anybody ever tell you, you got soulful eyes?” he asked.

STOP IT! And he upgraded too!!! 🤣

Which only left the alternative: something…casual.

I mean... Why not? 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ I'm with her on this. Red flags be damned 😂

I AM SO EXCITED FOR THIS! Gah, this was fabulous! I'm hooked! 😍👏

Are they gonna stay casual? Something about her brooding and reluctance tells me it's not usually her style? Which means, will he eventually settle? Get out of the dangerous hitman-nomad life? And then there's the stories about their respective families. We already know some about Russell's. How is she gonna react if she learns everything? And there's something odd about her private life as well. Can't wait to dive into that bombshell 😂

Zep, my sweet genius Alex, you've outdone yourself once again. Bravo!!! 👏👏👏

A Line and a Half

Pairing: Russell Shaw x F. Reader

Summary: When Dory’s eldest brother comes to visit her at Wyoming University, you don’t know quite what to make of Russell Shaw. But he knows exactly what he wants to make of you.

AN: Okay, here’s my first toe-dip into the world of Tracker with Russell Shaw! 1x12 gave me too many ideas not to explore this intriguing character. This is set before episode 12, but I have a little series I want to sketch out that will continue after this one-shot, so think of this as a “Part 1,” if you will. 😉

Word Count: 3.2K

Tags/Warnings: A kind of “meet cute,” attempts at flirting, and hints of setup for more to come…

You watched, silently simmering, as Dr. Goldstein added yet another packet of internship applications from his graduate students onto your desk.

Applicants that he, as the History Department Chairman, was supposed to review himself. Instead, he’d been adding these hours quite literally onto your desk.

“If you could review these for me as well, sweetheart. Thank you,” he said. “Get ‘em back to me by Thursday, okay?”

As a Professor of History with two doctorates in your name, you once again grated internally at sweetheart, but you tried to keep that cringe off your face as well.

Goldstein barely even met your eyes when he dropped off his burden, and then aimed to leave your office.

“Uh, Paul,” you called out, raising a finger. You stood from your desk as quickly as you could in your pencil skirt, but the man was already out the door. You followed him out, your heels clacking on the tile floor.

Damn it. Knew I should’ve gone with pants, you said, continuing to hasten after your boss.

“Paul! Just a second,” you said. That finally managed to turn the man’s head off of his phone. He glanced at you while checking his watch.

“About the internship applications…and your midterm exam essays for that matter. Don’t you think—” you started to say, but the man spoke over you.

“I’m sorry, I’ve got to run. Meeting my massage therapist at noon,” he said, and rolled a seemingly stiff shoulder under his tailored blazer. “Something’s just not right here after my trip to Cali last weekend. I don’t know what I did, pulled muscle or something. But hey, they do say parasailing is a sport.”

You quirked a brow. “Do they?”

You weren’t sure that being strapped into a parachute for a nice air glide over the Pacific counted as a sport.

Goldstein shrugged at your question and he kept walking down the hall. Though he turned back to toss you a pointed finger.

“Need those by Thursday. Thanks, you’re the best,” he said.

You watched him go, as proverbial steam began to escape through your ears. Slowly you pivoted on your heels, and you went back to your office. You grimaced at the large stack of applications. You were pretty sure he padded them with an extra section of midterm exams.

Tapping your nails on your desk, you grabbed your phone next to your desktop and checked the time. 11:30 a.m.

Screw it. I’m going to lunch, you thought.

Dory had to be out of her Intro Physics class by now, which meant she’d be in her office, ready for you to drop in on her a little early. You took up your purse and almost made it out the door…but at the last moment, your anal brain made you turn back to grab a shoulder bag and the pile of applications. Maybe you could knock out a few during lunch.

Friggin’ doormat, as your brother would say. Laughing at you, probably.

You rolled your eyes and headed back out the door with your haul of papers, purse, work bag, and keys, locking your office behind you.

Why, oh why did the Sciences building have to be on the other side of campus?

It was damn near a mile walk from your Humanities building over to Dory’s office on the second floor. Your hands were laden with packets that couldn’t be contained by your heavy work bag, your purse was slipping off your shoulder, and these heels were killing your feet.

It was a miracle you and Dory had ever met on this campus. On your first day of teaching, you’d of course been hopelessly lost. Somehow you ended up at the tail-end of one of her classes in one of the science auditoriums.

She’d been gracious enough to help you, and even walked you all the way to the Humanities building so you could find your World History class before the students decided to just get up and leave. (And after fifteen minutes, they very well would.)

That day, she became your first real friend at Wyoming University. In the three years since, she’d become your best friend.

And now, her door was mercifully open halfway. You pushed it open and stumbled just a little from the transition of tile to carpet inside her office. Your papers nearly flew from your hands, so you struggled to right yourself and contain them all back into the semblance of neatness.

“Hey, girl. You better be ready for lunch because Jesus fucking Christ. Goldstein’s up my ass again and all I’ve had today is a crusty donut from the teacher’s lounge, which I’m pretty sure was stale,” you said, with your brows furrowed in frustration.

When you finally looked up from your struggles, you realized that Dory wasn’t alone. She smiled at you in amusement, sitting at her desk beside a man who made you pause. Your eyes widened.

He was leaning casually with an elbow propped up on her desk, dressed in jeans and a worn, pale green jacket—a good match for his eyes. He looked a little rugged for Dory’s tastes, but you couldn’t fault her, with the cut of that bearded jaw, and the smile raising the corners of his lips.

“Hey,” Dory laughed. “I see you’re having a good day.”

You bit your lip in embarrassment, probably smudging your lipstick.

“I’m so sorry. I should’ve knocked first,” you said, though you could see she seemed to be having an actual good day. Office picnic? Or maybe the handsome stranger was getting ready to take her out.

Dory just waved you in. She stood and set a hand on her companion’s shoulder, and he got up along with her.

“It’s okay. This is my brother, Russell,” she said, and she introduced you in kind.

“Well, hi there,” he said. He subtly took you in with his eyes as he held out his hand. Already you felt your face heating up with more than just embarrassment.

You were a bit shocked as well, to say the least. Dory had told you some…interesting things about her family, including the fact that she had two older brothers. You wondered which one this was, the middle child, or the eldest.

“Hi! Sorry. Again. Nice to meet you,” you said. You tried to hold your hand out to reach his, but a few papers began to spill out. You clutched at them on reflex, but Russell drew in quickly to help you.

“Got yourself a load there,” he said. You agreed with an awkward laugh and a shrug of your shoulders.

“My boss’s idea of extra credit,” you said wryly.

“You can set it down on that chair over there,” Dory said, pointing to one against the back wall, next to a tall filing cabinet.

You and Russell meandered over and managed to set down the stack without casualty. You were able to pull up the straps of your bag and your purse from falling off your shoulder and give him a grateful look.

“Thanks,” you said.

“No problem,” he said, giving you an easy smile back. “I actually crashed in unannounced, so if you two wanna to head to lunch, you go right ahead.”

“Uh, no. I haven’t seen you in months! You should come with us,” Dory said. She grabbed her purse to join you and Russell by the door.

You raised your hands in placation. “Oh, I wouldn’t want to intrude, especially if it’s been a while since you’ve seen each other. You guys should catch up.”

Dory shook her head and grabbed your hand.

“Uh, uh. I want to hear the latest on Paul’s bullshit, and why you’re carrying half your office across campus. Let’s go,” she said, and gestured at your work bag. “Leave that here. You’re gonna eat and talk to me. No working involved.”

You laughed, but you agreed to her cajoling. With another glance at her brother, and those green eyes that seemed to be dancing, you joined them for lunch.

The three of you ended up at a diner that you and Dory frequented at least once a week. The food was good, the service was quick, and it was close to campus. Wins all around. Russell seemed to be enjoying himself, as he hummed in delight after the very first bite of his Philly cheesesteak.

“Sriracha on fries, huh?” you remarked, gesturing at the man’s plate. Your brow was quirked, but he shot you a smile.

“I said avert your eyes,” he teased. “Don’t knock it ‘til you try it, sweetheart.”

Ugh. Another sweethearting man. You narrowed your own eyes at him a bit. He caught the look and raised a hand in defense (the one that wasn’t holding his cheesesteak).

“Uh oh. What’d I do?” he asked.

“You gave her some PTSD,” Dory said with a laugh. “Dr. Goldstein likes to sugar coat his demands with sexism.”

Russell noted your souring look with apology. You’d just finished recounting your morning for your friend, and recapping years of “sugar-coated demands” for Russell.

“Why don’t you just tell him to cram it up his…uh…” he paused. Seeing his little sister’s look of amusement, he amended. “Or you know, stuff it.”

A smile twitched at your lips. “Oh, believe me, I’d love to tell him to stuff it. But he’s technically my boss, and the department chair. Even though I’ve basically been doing his job for two years now.”

“Well, that sucks,” Russell said. “And I feel for ya. I’ve had my share of shitty bosses in my time.”

You sighed and accepted his commiseration with a nod.

It wasn’t fair, but Goldstein planned to retire early in a few years. Must be nice.

When he did, it would make you the most likely candidate to replace him as department chair. The way you saw it, this was giving you plenty of practice before you (hopefully) inherited the position.

Anyway, you shook your head. You didn’t want to talk about it anymore. You were more curious about one Russell Shaw. You now knew he was an army vet, and he carried himself like one. Calm, controlled, even though his smiles came easy. His tousled hair and beard, while well-trimmed and neat, still gave him a roguish quality.

“So let me guess. You’re…the eldest?” you asked. You blotted at your mouth with a napkin, having finished your chicken panini.

Russell treated you to another one of those smiles, though this one held a hint of more.

“Guilty. Though I’m the handsome one,” he said with a wink.

You found yourself smiling behind your napkin.

“I’m sure,” you replied.

Dory rolled her eyes. “Don’t mind him. Apparently my brother’s an incorrigible flirt.”

He chuckled and sipped at his beer, but then he grimaced.

“Ech. Friggin’ weak,” he said. “I brew better than this outta the trunk of my car.”

You raised a brow at that. “You make your own beer?”

“Damn straight,” he said. His gaze turned a hint more playful. “Next time I’ll bring you some. You can tell me what you think.”

You shared a telling look with Dory.

“Next time, huh?” you asked.

“Sure,” he inclined his head. “I pop into town from time to time. Gotta check in and pester my little sister, the physics professor.”

He laid a hand on Dory’s shoulder, squeezing warmly. You could see the pride in his eyes, and it warmed you as well.

She turned to him with a smile, reaching up to cover his hand with hers.

“You don’t pester me. I’d love it if I got to see you more often,” she said.

“Ah, I know, I’m sorry,” he said, releasing her. “My job’s got me all over the place. But I’ll be here for a week or so on this gig.”

That intrigued you. “What do you do for work?”

“Ah, well, you could say I'm a contractor. Private security mainly,” said Russell. His shoulders shifted as he became a little more guarded, you noticed. “My company connects me with the client for as long as the job lasts. Could be a few months, sometimes a few days, depending.”

“Oh, wow. Do you live here in Wyoming?” you asked. He paused, but tilted his head a little, back and forth as he considered your question.

“I kinda bounce around,” he said. “Just go from one job to the next. Sounds a bit unorthodox, I know, but it’s a living.”

“Interesting,” you nodded, but inside, you thought that sounded like a hard way to live.

Unstable…and lonely.

“You know, it’s amazing how much you and Colter have in common,” Dory said. She folded her hands on the table and met her brother with a pointed look.

He huffed in response, though he glanced at you, then back at his sister. As if he was saying, You really want to do this now?

Dory had told you before that Colter was a “rewardist,” or some kind of bounty hunter. The nature of his work kept him busy, and seemingly too busy for his sister. But you also sensed there was an edgier history here.

For the first time, you felt like you were intruding in a moment between brother and sister that went beyond words.

After a moment, Russell shook his head.

“Look, I tried with him, all right? He won’t talk to me,” he said. He went back to eating, polishing off his fries. He offered you one that was half-smothered in sriracha.

“Come on. Live on the edge with me,” he teased.

You eyed the sauce-covered fry in distaste, but after glancing up at his more playful smile, you accepted his offer. You chewed in contemplation, and found that the tangy hint of kick wasn’t so bad.

“Eh? Eeeh? Delicious, am I right?” he said, his hands going wide.

You rolled your eyes, but you nodded in agreement.

“It’s all right,” you replied.

“Yes!” Russell’s hands swept up higher, like he was celebrating a touchdown. "See, I told ya."

You couldn’t help but laugh. Dory shook her head fondly and gave him a clean napkin for the bit of schmutz she spotted at the corner of his mouth.

“Here, wipe your sriracha face.”

“You really don’t have to,” you said, as Russell helped you gather your stack of papers and slung your work bag over his shoulder.

“No, no. I’m a bonafide gentleman. Ain’t that right, D?” he asked his sister. She barely resisted the urge to roll her eyes again, but she did give you a knowing smile.

“Oh, his intentions are pure,” she said.

And by that, you both understood her meaning. His intentions couldn’t be any clearer than a mallet over the head, but you kind of found it endearing.

This man really carried your stuff from the Sciences building across the entire campus to your office. All the while, he asked you about how you and Dory met, the kinds of things you two did together, and if you thought she was happy working here.

You had a feeling he was trying to learn more about his sister’s life. On one hand, it was rather sweet. On the other, it made you realize that there was distance in this family, both literal and figurative. You were glad to hear that Russell, at least, was trying to bridge that gap with his sister. Dory deserved to have more of that in her life.

As you explained to Russell while you led him down the hall to your office, your friendship with her had just…clicked. From the very beginning.

“Dory, you know. She’s more than kind,” you said. “She’s a real one. I can rely on her, even when I can’t rely on my own family.”

Russell hummed at that. “That sounds like a story.”

“Yeah,” you said, glancing away for a moment. You smiled and met his gaze once more. “Maybe one for another time.”

“So you’re on board with a ‘next time.’ Good to know,” Russell remarked. Your smile deepened.

It was good timing when you two finally reached your office. You unlocked it and let him inside, so he could set down your bag, and the god-forsaken stack of internship applications back onto your desk. You’d probably be stuck here working late on those.

“Well, thank you so much. You really didn’t have to schlep for me,” you said.

When you turned, Russell was a bit close. Not uncomfortably so, but enough to make a trill of something zip up your spine. You smelled more intensely his cologne, woodsy and warm. Looking up at him, you once again found his smile.

“It’s no problem,” he said, but his eyes met yours for a moment, as if he lost his train of thought.

“What?” you asked, a bit nervous.

“Anybody ever tell you, you got soulful eyes?” he asked.

It took your brain a second or two to compute, but when his words registered, you had to laugh. You held it behind your hand, while the other went to steady yourself on your desk.

“Well, that’s a line if I’ve ever heard one,” you said, shading your “soulful” eyes with a hand.

You didn’t know it, but Russell’s face warmed in slight embarrassment. He recovered though, taking in your pretty laugh, and the shade of your hair, let loose around your shoulders, and yes, your eyes, when you let him see them again.

If he hadn’t known before, now he was convinced.

He wanted to see more of you before he left town.

“Hey, now that was 100% genuine,” Russell said, but his grin spoke volumes. When your mirth died down, he scratched the back of his head.

“Okay, cards on the table. Would you be interested in grabbing a drink with me sometime?” he asked.

You took in a breath at that. You actually did consider his offer, because homebrew and sriracha fries be damned, there was something more to him. It was lying in wait, behind those eyes that were drawing you in.

However, this was also a man whose job basically made him a nomad. It didn’t exactly scream relationship material.

Which only left the alternative: something…casual.

You just didn’t know if that alternative was such a good idea. Not with your best friend’s brother.

“Just a drink. No frills, no more grilling you about my sister,” Russell said, breaking you from your deliberation. He gestured a hand between the two of you. “Just this. You and me.”

Eventually, you sighed. Your lips raised into a more genuine smile.

“Sometime, huh?” you asked.

He smiled back. “Tonight?”

You hesitated, but despite your better judgment, you nodded before you could change your mind. You still weren’t sure what to make of this guy, but you were willing to find out.

“Sure,” you said. “Howley’s at eight?”

“Well, all right,” Russell said.

He surprised you by sweeping up your hand into his. You looked up at him, curious, but not wary. Anticipation tingled down your spine.

He pressed his lips to the back of your hand. Soft shock made your eyes widen as you blushed, feeling the subtle graze of his beard against your skin.

Who is this guy, Cary Grant? you thought.

But when he pulled away, you had to remind yourself to breathe. Again, you caught sight of his cheeky grin.

“See you tonight,” he said.

AN: He is beauty he is grace, he is Mr. Sriracha Face. 😆

Let me know if you guys liked this! 💜 It's my first time writing a character based solely on one episode, but next up is a series that will continue this one-shot. It's called Every Second Counts.

Next Time in Part 1:

“Are you absolutely sure?” you asked, with your hands on your hips.

You wanted no miscommunication here, no read-between-the-lines mishaps, no subtext or nuance to bite you in the ass later. So here you stood in the middle of your best friend’s office, still on the Wyoming University campus after your last class.

Dory had to laugh at you. She pushed away from her desk and threw her hands up.

“Yes, for the love of God, you can grab a drink with my brother,” she said.

▶️ Keep Reading: Part 1

Ko-Fi Me ☕

Russell Shaw Masterlist

Main Masterlist

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@kazsrm67 @letheatheodore @agothwithheavysetmakeup @jacklesbrainworms @foxyjwls007

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#wayne reads #russell shaw x reader #russell shaw x female reader #russell shaw

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madschiavelique · 3 days ago

Text

A Crown Of Ink : Chapter 5 - Temperance

summary : viktor and reader work together in the library (so much banter, it's insane), then maybe there's a small fight because a guy called viktor a cripple and that causes some issues

content warnings : mentions of blood but really not that much tbh

word count : 5,4k

author's note : you thought i was gone on this one huh ? WRONG. we're so back babies! i know it's been 2 years since i've touched this baby okay, but i'm back now! hopefully i will get more time to write about this lil guy bc i love this fic.

masterlist : 1 — 2 — 3 — 4 — 5

(not proofread, english is not my first language ✦)

taglist : @doctorho

For the rest of the two long hours, Heimerdinger continued his lesson.

The class had come to an end, you silent, the class teeming with gossip. Professor Heimerdinger had distributed the subjects one by one to the students at the end of the lesson. He was a perfectly reasonable, friendly teacher who tried to make his pupils laugh at the expense of their historical knowledge.

When you had a lesson with him, you knew you were listening to a teacher who was wise enough to turn events and experiences into jokes to lighten the burden of his history lessons.

He was always on the lookout for questions and comments from the students, not hesitating for a moment as he gave the subjects to the groups one by one to point out the difficulties they might find and the pitfalls that might await them.

In short, Heimerdinger wanted his students to succeed, not to see a decline in the Piltover Academy's chances of success, which in the eyes of many seemed to be something to crow about rather than something to be ashamed of.

The very idea of being one of the few students to overcome these difficulties and succeed was, in your eyes, the greatest reward that could ever be given to you.

“Young folks,” he said, pointing to the two of you. “Come this way. I have reserved a subject especially for you.”

Heimerdinger didn't do things haphazardly. He gave students subjects that reflected them, or at least where he knew the results would be most interesting. You couldn't help but fear what he was up to.

When the students had dispersed, the tinkle of Viktor's cane sounded until he arrived at your side. You sighed audibly as you looked at him, crossing your arms over your chest as he gave you a winning smile.

He seemed to enjoy it when you got angry, and took great pleasure in teasing you constantly. Had he been a friend, you wouldn't have held it against him, even though your list of friends consisted mainly of Eris, Sky and Jayce. However, a friend wasn't supposed to be a problem for your success. There's only so much space in the academy for students who come out on top, and you weren't about to give yours away.

“Good,” he said at last as the last student passed through the doorway. “There's no need to point out that you two are the sharpest elements of this class, you're well enough aware of that, as is the rest of the school certainly.”

Your bickering and petty battles almost made the corridors of the school come alive again with the excitement of rumour and gossip partaking in your reputation.

“None of the fellow teachers in this establishment seem to have brought to the table, however, a possibility which seems to me to be the most interesting for both of you: teamwork.”

You arched an eyebrow, finding the reasoning profoundly moronic.

“Sir,” you couldn't help but point out, “this school is eliminatory. Why would you want to associate students who won't necessarily all have the chance to pass the exams?”

Heimerdinger chuckled, “I'm not doing it with the prospect of a pass or a gold medal waiting for you at the finish line, Miss.”

You tilted your chin up in a slight pout of surprise.

“You see, I'm not necessarily trying to prepare you for the exams, but for what will happen once they're over. Having a diploma is all very well on paper, but what counts most in the end will be what you achieve.”

“All right,” you admit, “but why put us in a pair like this?”

“It's quite simple,” he jumped up from his desk, trotting across the floor to stand in front of you, your eyes downcast on him. “In the working environment, you don't always find a shoe to fit. And when you don't have the power to dismiss your colleague just because you don't like them, you have to learn to sacrifice your temperament for the sake of the common good. Now, I'm not asking you to make sacrifices, that word is far too violent, but I am asking you to compromise.”

You exchanged a look with Viktor, your fists clenching until your knuckles were white. You'd already made enough compromises for one lifetime, and now you had to go on? He, for his part, didn't seem too bothered by the situation. How could he be so calm? So serene about the idea of cooperating?

“You don't always work with the person of your choice, and not always on the subjects you'd prefer. Oh, that's just it! Speaking of subjects…”

He stood on tiptoe, grabbing the last sheet of paper from his desk and holding it out to Viktor.

The latter, for once, frowned in pure confusion and even perhaps... irritation?

“The evolution of Zaun's power?”

Your eyes narrowed before shifting from Viktor to Heimerdinger, “Are you joking?”

“I do love to laugh young lady but the shortest jokes are the best. You both seem, for different reasons, to have an excellent knowledge of Zaun. Its political power, its evolution, and even the iconic figures who can make themselves forgotten in the shadows of its depths.”

You exhaled a shaky breath, trying to remain upright and not revolt on the spot. Heimerdinger seemed way too amused and happy of his little scheme.

“Any questions?”

Viktor read the subject and what you had to complete, “Do you have any books to recommend to us Professor?”

Heimerdinger's voice became a blur as your thoughts drifted like the Grey in Zaun. Every corner of this city was out to kill you, and even when you were out of it, it followed you like your shadow.

Were you ever going to get out of such a cycle, out of this city’s grasp ?

“Miss?”

The teacher's voice brought you back down to earth. Distracted, you simply offered a confused hum in question so that he would repeat his last words.

“Your assignment is due in a month. That gives you time to put your differences aside and find a way of working together. If you'll excuse me, my next class is coming up soon.”

He gestured towards the exit, and soon enough you found yourselves in the corridor. The momentary emptiness of the hall almost seemed to bring you back to reality.

You drew in a breath, meeting Viktor's gaze beside you. You couldn't afford to get a bad mark, especially not for a Heimerdinger course. He was one of the most renowned scientists in the country, with his own seat on the Piltover council. To produce mediocre work would be to end your career on the spot, and you were prepared to at least try to cooperate with someone like Viktor.

“Why are you not begging the teacher to put us both in different duos?” you asked while Viktor was still reading the subject content.

“Hm, I think it might be fun.” he said, not even glancing at you.

You scoffed, “You and me?” your trigger finger pointing back and forth between the two of you, “Together? Fun?”

His eyes dropped from the paper, scanning you with a changed interest.

“You'd rather go back in there and ask for a rematch like a loser?”

A muscle near your eye tensed for a moment.

He sighed, his eyes returning to the subject, “Admitting defeat takes strength.”

“So you think I'm weak ?”

But Viktor didn't seem to have the slightest interest in you at the moment.

You relaxed your shoulders, sighing. There was no point in trying to beat him, you weren't - on that subject at least - in competition.

“Can I see the subject?” you asked, reaching for the paper, but he removed it from your reach in an instant.

You frowned, this wasn't going to be easy.

“Do I disgust you?” he asked.

The question caught you off guard, your eyes blinking several times as you almost looked at him with fresh eyes.

If the question was purely physical, no, Viktor didn't disgust you. He was always accompanied at all times and in all places by that same invariable weariness that gave him a particular elegance. He had features common in Zaun, brown hair, amber eyes, and an accent that made some of the girls in your class drop like flies.

When it came to his character and personality though, it was another thing entirely.

“You annoy me,” you replied, managing to snatch the subject of his hand with enough agility that the gesture left him surprised, “but you don't disgust me.”

He remained silent for a moment. You could feel his eyes on you as yours fell on those of the subject.

“The only thing that disgusts me is your taste in pasta,” you confirmed.

He let out a little laugh, the kind that mixes humming and nose blowing, the kind you do when a remark makes you nostalgic.

“Friday, 5pm, library, don't be late.” he said simply, the clink of his cane echoing on the floor as he began to walk away.

As your eyes roamed over the page, you couldn't help but take in nothing of what was written. Your mind was stuck on him, on the trick Heimerdinger had just played on you.

He had just orchestrated a game that the whole school was going to bet on, the teachers were going to look at your situation in a new light, and in the worst case scenario, multiply the group work to put you both in pairs.

Your heart looped as you realised that this was undoubtedly another test. Heimerdinger was going to observe which of you was the best performer, the most pliable, the best at teamwork.

You had to be flawless, you had to.

Friday came earlier than you imagined, and you weren't looking forward to it in the least. You hadn't stopped thinking about it, finding yourself on numerous occasions distracted during your homework.

The card of the day you had drawn was Temperance, and the little booklet told you:

Alchemy. Mixing and harmonising opposing forces and concepts. Maintaining opposing ideas and encouraging complexity in life. Fusion produces evolution.

The archangel Gabriel, the angel messenger, is represented on the card. He wears the sign of the sun on his forehead. This is also the alchemist's symbol for gold. This card reflects the changing of the seasons and the adoption of new ideas. Temper in Latin is the act of repetition to invoke skill or to refine something, to make it sharper like a sword.

What a pain that was, and to think you'd have to endure this for a whole month of deep research and hours spent by his side working, together.

You dragged your feet as you made your way to the academy library.

It was a magnificent place, filled with the smell of varnished wood, old paper and dried ink. The ceiling was arched, the bookshelves forming real walls that separated the room like rows of pews in a church. If it hadn't been reserved for the academy's research students, it would surely have been on Piltover's list of monuments to visit.

There weren't many people there, apart from a small handful of students finishing their homework before basking in the arrival of the weekend. You were a good fifteen minutes early, and didn't see Viktor at all.

You were just about to put your bag and things down by a table and start your research, when a voice you wouldn't have preferred to hear at the time greeted you:

“Ah, there you are,” Viktor approached, coming out of one of the library corridors, “I just needed some help to get to the higher tomes.”

With his free hand, he held up a small stack of tomes, pressing them under his chin before placing them on a table with two or three other books already laid out.

You sighed, moving your things over to his table, “Have you been there for long already?”

“Why, do you care about me?” his cheeky grin made you roll your eyes.

“I think you overestimated my greatness. Which shelf?”

He said nothing, making his way to one of the shelves. You followed him. Fortunately, the women's uniforms at the academy had trousers. You wouldn't have known what to do if it had been otherwise and you'd ended up on a ladder above him.

“You know,” he began as you reached the meagre ladder to the upper shelves, “I've been looking forward to working with you.”

You arched an eyebrow, your hand gripping the ladder as you looked at him in confusion.

“Why?”

The two of you were only picking on each other, you were avoiding him like the plague, and you'd made it clear to him several times that your situation was that of a competition. So obviously you had a right to be surprised as to why he'd want to work with you.

He shrugged. “You were the top student before I came here, surely there must be a reason behind it.”

You expelled an abrupt puff from your lungs, your breath taken away by his insolence. You could only expect it after all.

You climbed a few steps up the ladder, looking for Zaun's historical tomes.

“Is that supposed to be a compliment, or am I to believe my working buddy seeks to diminish me to a fictive second rank?”

“We're in a library, alas, reality catches up to this fiction, miss number two.”

You clutched the volume in your hand, your nostrils flaring for a moment in anger. He knew how to annoy you, and you never seemed to find a single point on which you could reciprocate.

You held out the tomes one by one for him to take. “Guess I could work on a pet name for you too.”

“Be my guess.”

Once his arm was full, you took a few tomes in your hands before climbing down the ladder and walking towards the table. “And make you the honour of thinking of something to be done for you ? I'd rather lick sandpaper.”

He feigned disappointment, “So I do disgust you, this pains me.”

You set the pile of volumes down on the table, reaching into your bag to pull out paper and pens.

“Yeah well, You were supposed to pretend I didn't exist, not try to bother me to death. So I guess we're both disappointed.”

He took a seat, grabbing a volume and placing it in front of him. “So I bother you ?”

You sat down opposite him, imitating his gesture as you searched with interest for a tome to start with.

“What a transcending sense of observation you have.”

He brought both his hands up in front of him, resting his chin on the backs of his fingers.

“How do I bother you?”

You were starting to get annoyed by his questions. You had come here to work, not to chat.

“Your simple existence?” you replied, staring into his eyes.

He sighed, opening his book and noting on the page its title.

“As if yours wasn't proof that failure has a sense of humour.”

You said nothing, letting his comment wander in the air as you started your own research in silence, locating the chapter of interest to you in the table of contents.

“But seriously,” Viktor continued, “why do I bother you?”

You sighed, pinching the page you were on before shifting your eyes from the words on it to Viktor's curious amber gaze.

“You want an honest answer ?”

He nodded. You let go of the page, straightening up.

“You come into my life and wreck everything I've built brick by brick, wouldn't you be the slightest bit frustrated if that happened to you ?”

It was his turn to be silent this time. He seemed to look at you differently, as if, by some miracle perhaps, he'd just realised what was at stake for you in this situation.

He wasn't even touching the tip of the iceberg of why you'd come to the Academy, but for a moment he seemed to understand how important it could be for you.

Your eyes returned to your page, trying to find keywords to write down or information to record.

“You surpassed me in the exam, teachers love you, you make great friends…”

“Almost sounds like you're obsessed with me.”

Your lips parted, eyes wide as you looked at him as if he'd just slapped you, leaving your cheek and your thoughts with a warm tingle. You were so surprised that nothing came from your lips, which was beginning to be enough for a flash of mischief to cross Viktor's eyes and for the corner of his lips to form a sneer.

“I'm not.” You finally reply, trying to remain composed and not to stammer for anything in the world.

“Denial would've worked before the long vacant stare,” he says, advancing slightly on the table.

“Why do you have to be like that?”

“Like what?”

You humph, dropping back in your chair in despair.

“Better than me.”

He recoiled slightly, as if the remark was completely far-fetched and unfounded.

“There are thousands of people better than me, why do you have to focus on my poor self, hm? Did I barge in your territory?”

He had, unconsciously he truly had. It was you who was supposed to be first, otherwise the consequences would've been mentally dire.

“Take it this way,” he continued, “there's surely something you're better at than me.”

You couldn't think of much on the spot, especially not when there was a possibility of you making a list of things he topped you in. There was surely one thing though.

“Running.”

He opened his lips in surprise, a smile stretching across his face which he hid with his hand. You were already regretting what you'd just said.

“Jayce is going to be the first one hearing about this.”

“No it's-”

“So you're participating in a system made against disabilities.”

“I never-”

“Are you going to steal my crutch next in hopes of beating me to a race?”

“You're never going to drop this now are you ?”

“With such a statement ? Never.”

“Whatever let's just- let's just work.” you mumble, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment and shame as you desperately try to move on.

He gave one last chuckle before getting back to work. He seemed to be reading a tome on the history of the masters of Zaun.

“About Tytos, I still think you've got that wrong.” he said as he read another page from the tome.

“I think I'm going to smash your face in.” you replied calmly without looking at him.

“As if you could reach me.”

“You know what-” you began, raising your voice.

However, somebody shushed you in the room, restricting you to remaining calm.

“Raising your voice in a library? You'd have to be a stupid fool.”

“Trying to contradict me when even Heimerdinger considered my answer excellent is not the wisest either.”

“Heimerdinger would tell a snail that goes slightly faster than the norm it's excellent. But maybe your low self esteem is just common sense.”

“Maybe my self esteem will just leave this library right now.” you say, crossing your arms on the table.

“And leave me to pursue this matter on my own? That wouldn't be very serious, miss number two.”

You sighed, getting back to work. Your blood was boiling in your veins just from sitting at this table.

“None of the books mention Tytos.”

“Since when do you trust Piltover books on the accounts of the history of Zaun ?”

Touché. He raised his eyebrows as if it were the only relevant thing you could have said.

“You never said where you were from, in Zaun,” he remarked.

You tensed slightly. “Why do you want to know that ?”

“We're making an exposé on Zaun, we're both from there, might as well just know it,” he said, raising his eyes to yours.

You watched him for a moment, he didn't seem to want to make a joke of you once your answer was out of your mouth. But in any case, you weren't going to give it to him.

“You wouldn't know,” you replied simply as you jotted down another date.

‘I'm sure that I-”

“You don't want to know.’ you said firmly, the seriousness taking over your face to assure him that this was certainly not territory he wished to venture into.

He frowned, confused. He seemed deeply intrigued by you, and that made you uncomfortable. Never before in your life had anyone asked you so many questions about yourself in such a short space of time. And so here he was, shaking up every one of your pillars like a bowling ball knocking over pins.

This one, however, was not about to give way.

You looked at your watch for a moment, sighing.

“Let's work for one more hour. We'll make a plan and subparts of what we'll talk about at the end of it.”

This time Viktor seemed to get the message: silence.

You couldn't help glancing at him from time to time. You noticed the way his long fingers flicked across the pages, the way his eyebrows furrowed as he read, the way he rested his cheek on the back of his hand with a sigh as he read a boring piece of writing.

Or when he would click his pencil for a moment to write something down, and his handwriting would lie gracefully on the paper, scratching the grain of the paper.

It was not without surprise that, once the hour had passed, there was hardly anyone in the library but the two of you.

When you explained your plan for the presentation to Viktor, he agreed, simply giving a few perfectly critical and serious remarks without condescending to him in any way.

“Good. I think this is a good time to stop for today,” you said as you stood up, taking a stack of books in your arms.

All in all, working with Viktor like this wasn't so bad, when it was done in silence. But as soon as either of you opened your lips to say anything, politeness left the room in great strides.

You put each tome away in its old place, both of you taking your things, and left the library. The academy wasn't closed yet, and some people still had classes or were hanging around in the corridors.

You walked side by side, your pace the same as Viktor's. All the students seemed to turn around as you passed, your duo seeming like a pair of circus animals.

You glanced at Viktor, who didn't seem in the least affected by this.

However, a trio of students were watching you with evil, mocking eyes. You couldn't help but tense up, however, when the one who seemed as tall as he was stupid remarked:

“Die already, cripple. You're slowing the traffic.”

Your shoulders tensed as you walked, expecting to do what you'd always had to do here despite the taunts: ignore and move on.

But Viktor wasn't going to listen to you like that.

“Thank you for your advice, I'll try euthanasia once you'll be able to count higher than the number of butterfingers you've got.”

A few chuckles echoed in the corridor at his reply, but the young man seemed to be boiling with hatred. It was as you passed in front of them that, in a cowardly move, he kicked Viktor's cane.

He lost his balance, falling face first to the ground as his cane fell beside him. The air stopped for a moment with the shock of the gesture, your eyes shifting from Viktor on the ground to the idiot who had just knocked him over. Students knelt down beside him immediately to help him.

“Oops, my foot slipped. Sorry.”

But nothing, of course, conveyed any regret at this behaviour.

He turned his back and walked off with his group of friends. Your blood ran cold.

Quickly, you grabbed Viktor's cane, which was still on the ground, and made it whistle through the air before it struck the back of the student's knees. It was his turn to shrivel up on the floor, and he immediately turned to you, his cheeks red with anger.

“Oops, my hand slipped,” you said, glancing at the crutch for a moment before returning to him. “Sorry.”

You turned back to Viktor, handing him his crutch. He looked at you with fried whiting eyes, deeply surprised by your gesture without moving a muscle.

“You fucking slut…” you heard behind you.

But as soon as you turned around, a sharp blow hit you in the cheek. The force of it knocked you back two steps, a metallic taste spreading through your mouth. You brought your fingers to your lips, hissing as you touched them, your bottom lip burning. Bringing your fingers back into line of sight, you found them bloodied.

You turned to the student, his face far too satisfied for your liking.

‘’What a brilliant idea,‘’ you breathed as, in one swift movement, you struck his crotch with the crutch.

He bent over instinctively, gasping for breath, before you punched him right in the nose. He fell, cowering on the ground like a miserable insect.

"What's going on here?" asked a stern voice.

Madame Agrane, one of your teachers, came into the corridor. Her eyes fell on Viktor on the floor, your lip split, the student on the ground surrounded by his two friends.

“Everyone in my office, now.”

You pressed a bag of ice cubes to your cheek, sitting next to Viktor who was clutching his crutch in his hands. As for the idiot, he kept grumbling and giving you nasty looks.

"Can someone explain to me what happened for you all to end up in such states?" questioned Agrane.

You were about to start but the idiot beat you to it.

"Madame Agrane, I was just minding my own business in the corridor when these two pupils came up to me! One was hitting me with his crutch while the other was punching me. I don't know what I've done to deserve this.' He exclaimed theatrically, Viktor and you looking at him like the most ridiculous being to ever be.

If there was one thing that helped your reputation, it was that you were known as serious students, who didn't fall into the category of those who would start a fight in the corridors for no particular reason.

"That is far from the truth," Viktor retorted calmly. "He insulted me, then made me fall, and then...’

He seemed to be hesitating over his words, or at least looking for the right term. He turned to you, letting his eyes drift for a moment to your split lip, and then back to Madame Agrane's gaze.

"... My friend protected me."

Friend? the word made you clench your jaw, inhaling. It was just a lie, just a word brought to the front to give your teacher sympathy. No, he certainly didn't mean it.

The teacher looked at you, seeming more convinced by your story than the other. Noticing this, the student couldn't help but plead his own case:

"Madam, these two students come from Zaun. The blood of violence will always run in their veins."

Agrane seemed to give you a new look, as if you and Viktor were ready to pounce on her like two wolves.

"Is this a joke? You started all this," you said, offended.

"Beating you up would have brought greatness to Piltover." he replied.

"Oh, look at you, attempting greatness! Pity it's just an attempt." you sighed, pressing the ice pack a little closer to your cheek to put out the fire your anger was beginning to spread.

"Madam Agrane," he continued, turning to her, "you know what my patron will think about this. Imagine his reaction when he will hear how you have treated his favoured student?"

You had no idea who his patron could possibly have been, but she didn't hesitate for a second to say:

"Miss, you'll get an hour's detention for your violent behaviour in the corridors. I hope I don't have to catch you again doing such barbaric acts."

Your eyes widened just as much as Viktor's.

"What?! But he's the one who-" you tried, pointing at the idiot who was smiling victoriously.

"There's no buts about it. The discussion is closed. You'll have your detention period this Monday."

"Madam, I think there's been a mistake." Viktor began.

"Do you want to be given detention too, young man?"

Viktor remained silent, sighing before lowering his eyes to the ground.

"Good, see you on Monday, then."

The fool stood up first, walking past you with a foolish grin on his face.

"Bet it feels just like home to be in prison by monday, hm?"

Your lip hemmed in disgust, your nose scrunching up.

"Try what you've done just once more, and I'll personally make sure you have no offspring."

He looked slightly frightened for a moment, then frowned like a child before leaving the room.

You sighed, standing up. You wanted to get out of here right away, away from the horrible feeling of injustice in your heart, away from the word ‘punishment’ burning into your skin.

Your free hand instinctively came to rest on your shoulder for comfort, and you stood up to get your things.

“You didn’t have to do this earlier, you know.” Viktor said.

You sighed, walking towards the door. “Whatever, what is done is done.”

"Hey," Viktor said, standing up behind you.

You didn't even turn to him.

"Thanks, I wasn't expecting that at all."

You waited for something, for anything that would come after what he had just said, but nothing came. Your turned to him.

"Is that all? No remarks about how I'd have been better off hitting him somewhere else, or stupid sarcasm about my action?"

He seemed surprised by your reaction, his face puzzled and almost saddened.

"We're not friends, Viktor." you said, your face as cold as the ice pack on your cheek. "We're..."

But what were you apart from rivals? Two rivals working together to do a job that would rely on both of you, that wasn't really rivalry. It was camaraderie in a way, you were classmates, but friends?

You pursed your lips, a slight trickle of blood beading from them.

"See you next week."

Without further ado, you left the room. You walked down the corridors, the students staring at you like an alien. You were suffocating under all those sharp, curious, numerous stares. You pressed on, leaving the academy as quickly as possible.

Once outside, you took the first quiet alley you could find.

“Shit!” you swore, pressing your back against the first wall you could find.

You brought your hand up to your forehead, sighing until you almost felt your body slide down the wall, running your palm over your face in frustration and exhaustion.

You wanted to cry, the weight of everything feeling like it was zipping up on you like a body bag. You'd been stupid, acting on your emotions. You should have kept your head down, let the administration do its job, not invented a life of heroism trying to redress the balance that some fool had tipped.

You didn't even like Viktor, but you'd still jumped at the chance to do him justice. No, you didn't like Viktor any more than that.

But you respected him.

Could you be friends with him?

The question passed through your mind for a moment, but you ended up putting it out of your mind.

You let your head fall back against the wall. The thought of an hour's detention in your perfect record seemed to you like a thread sticking out of a beautiful dress, itching to be pulled on. You tried to console yourself, to come to terms with the fact that it was just another hour of extra study. But you couldn't help feeling heavy with pain.

Eventually you gathered up your things and walked home, hoping that the cool night air would help to quench the fire that was still boiling inside you. Winter was on your doorstep, and ready to complicate things.

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javierpena-inatacvest · 2 days ago

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Chapter 5- Miles Between Us

Summary: Frankie's decision to join the Army was the catalyst in the collapse of your friendship. When he's forced to reconcile with his past, packed away in boxes in his childhood basement, he finds pieces of you in everything he's left behind.

Word Count: 5.0K

Pairing: Frankie Morales x f!reader (reader has a name/nickname)

Warnings: Angst, lying, guilt, military deployment, FEELINGS, Frankie's mom not putting up with his shit

A/N: IT'S TIME TO PEEL BACK ANOTHER LAYER OF THE ONION, BABY!!! I hope you guys don't hate me that this is a slow burn- I know this is not how I normally write at all, but it's been really fun to build this story up bit by bit (if you hate it though, please tell me lmao 💀) I'm excited for this chapter and how it hints at next chapter (we're finally getting to some smut y'all, omg) Thank you as always for your kind words, it makes my day to hear what you have to say about these two 🥺💛

All The Things We Never Said Masterlist

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You, Age 17, Spring of 2006

“You’re late, Morales.”

“Can’t be late to something we don’t have a set time for, Anderson.”

It’s true, you and Frankie have never set an official schedule for your afterschool ritual, but it never seems to fail that at 3:45, only 10 minutes after you’ve gotten home from soccer practice, he’s at the foot of your bed with his forest green Jansport backpack, ready to complain about the homework he doesn’t want to finish and the tests he has no interest in studying for, just so he can keep you company while you stress yourself to death about the same assignments.

And for as much as he hated school work, Frankie was never late. Never. So to watch him mope into your bedroom an hour later than his usual arrival time, it almost would have been safer to assume he was dead than anything else.

“What took you so long? Get lost on the way here?” You joke, trying to keep it light while still prodding for an answer about his absence as you write down the answer to the math equation you’re trying to solve.

“No. Don’t worry about it.”

There’s been very few occasions you’ve seen Frankie so stoic. Even on his worst days, he’s at least still got a little tolerance left in him for your stupid banter. It’s enough to draw your attention completely away from your homework and onto him.

“What’s wrong? Why are you being so weird?”

You can tell then that something’s clearly not right, the way he’s angrily yanking loose papers and textbooks from his backpack and nearly slamming them onto the edge of your bed, making you gnaw anxiously at the end of your pencil you’d been using.

You’re too nosy for your own good to let up until you find what you’re looking for.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Well obviously something’s wrong.”

“What? I’m not allowed to be late, ever?”

“No? Frankie, I just asked where you were and you’re acting like I’m asking you if you just shot the fucking president or something. What’s going on?”

“It’s nothing, MacKenzie!”

“If it’s nothing, then why are you so upset about it?”

“I’m not upset!”

“You clearly are? Frankie, what the hell are you-”

“I’m joining the Army, okay?!”

Out of all the things you could have expected to come out of Frankie’s mouth, that would have been at the bottom of your list. In fact, it’s so out of left field, you’re not even quite sure you believe him.

Your forehead hurts from how tightly your brows are knitted together in confusion, scowling at Frankie with a dumbfounded intensity that probably had you looking like you had just gotten an unsuspecting whiff of the world’s most sour lemon.

There’s no way he’s being serious. He can’t be.

“Ha ha, very funny, Francisco.” You mock, frown still splayed across your face, “Now will you please tell me what’s actually going on?”

His silence makes your heart drop into the pit of your stomach. You can feel the way your face falls, the muscles once tensed in adamant skepticism now sinking into a quiet panic. You can hear each breath as it flows in through your nose and out through your mouth, blood pounding louder and louder in your ears with each pulse of your veins.

“Frankie, if this is one of your stupid jokes, it’s not funny.”

“It’s not a joke.”

His eyes are still peeled to the floor, too afraid to bring himself to look at you. All he can do is stare at his pinky toe, poking out of the hole in his socks that he refuses to replace. You wait for what feels like hours, days, for him to say something, but his silence is deafening. And the sound of Frankie’s silence is the scariest thing you’ve heard in a very long time.

It’s so terrifying, the only thing you can do to cope is fill the quiet void with your rambling and pray that Frankie Morales is choosing to play the world’s worst joke on you.

“What- what do you mean? Frankie, I thought- When you and Santi talked about doing the same thing as Will- I thought you were fucking kidding? What about college? We already both got accepted to Florida State, what are you gonna do-”

“I didn’t get in.”

Please let him be kidding. Please, please, let this be a sick joke.

You can feel your confusion starting to bubble into anger, jaw clenching at the way Frankie’s too coward to even look in your general direction, gaze still glued to that stupid fucking hole in his worn down sock.

“Frankie, what the fuck? We both got accepted back in January? You’ve been lying to me this whole fucking time?”

“I didn’t wanna lie, okay?!”

He’s riddled with enough guilt to speak up, trying to keep himself from the brink of tears as he works up enough courage to finally look you in the face. You can hear how hard he gulps, like his heart is bobbing in his throat, trying to buy all the time he can to come up with a reason for his deception that won’t hurt you any more than he already has.

“I just- fuck,” he sighs, chewing at his bottom and bouncing his leg against the bed so intensely it’ll make him sore the next day, “I didn’t know what to do, Kenz. I’m sorry. I’m really, really sorry.”

It’s hard to stay mad at him when you know he means it. It’d be easier if it weren’t for the way his brown eyes flooded with disappointment in himself, spilling out in tears onto his cheeks. For as frustrated as you are, you have enough sympathy to ease up on him enough to at least try to understand.

“Well, not lying to me about it for the last four months probably would have been a good start.” You huff, the air that puffs from your nostrils still tainted with the let down you’re trying so hard to not let override your conversation.

You can’t help but let yourself find a spot next to him on the edge of your bed, a peace offering that you hope is enough to signal to him you’re willing to listen to what he has to say.

“I- I didn’t think you were being serious when you and Santi were talking about it. I- I thought you- I thought the plan was to go to Florida State. Together. What happened, Frankie?”

It’s quiet for a few more moments. Frankie takes a few, slow deep breaths as he runs his hands through the curls twisting at the nape of his neck. The silence isn’t as bitter as before, but it stings enough to gnaw at the edges of your nails, the anxious habit you can’t seem to break, and certainly have no intention of giving up right now.

“Stop chewing at your nails, Kenz. You’re gonna be pissed at yourself later.” Frankie sighs, gently grabbing your wrist to pull your hand away from your mouth, trying to fulfill his duty of being the one to stop you from ripping your nail beds to shreds.

“You’re kinda making it hard not to.” You try your best to attempt a laugh. It’s the only way to keep yourself from crying. “So are you gonna tell me what’s going on or what?”

“Y-yeah.” Frankie re-adjusts himself on the edge of the bed, twisting the fabric of your comforter between his fingers, trying to ground himself in the reality of the truth he’s forced to tell you, “I- I didn’t get into Florida State. I told you I did because I didn’t know what I was gonna do. You were just so excited when you thought we both got in and I- I panicked and I lied. I didn’t even think I was gonna get in anyways. I didn’t think I was gonna get in anywhere. Even if I did, I don’t know if I even could have afforded it. It’s just me and my mom and neither of us-”

“It’s not too late. I can help you look for scholarships. To help you with tuition. I’m sure that there’s a bunch out there that you could apply for. I’ll even write your essays and stuff for you if you want me to-”

“I’m pretty sure you can’t do that, Kenz. Plus, you hate cheaters.”

Frankie tries to reciprocate the same half-assed laugh you gave him. He looks over at you, the small smile he’s forcing to keep between his lips quickly fading as he sees the way you’re pleading with him to realize that you would forge a thousand essays in his name if it meant he wasn’t going to leave you. He’d be a cheater you’d gladly forgive.

“It’s not even just the money. I just- I- I don’t even like school, Kenzie. I suck at it. If school is already hard now, how much harder is it gonna be when I get to college? To study for a job that I’m probably not even gonna want when I graduate? At least with the Army I can have a job and benefits and hopefully make enough money to help my mom so she’s not working at the hospital 6 days a week. MacKenzie, the only reason I applied to Florida State was because of you. I thought that maybe there would be some miracle I got in and I could figure out how to pay for it and I could magically get smarter and better at school so we could spend the next four years together. I wanted it to happen. I wanted it to happen so bad. I’m sorry. I’m sorry I lied to you. I just- fuck- I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

Neither of you are quite sure what to say next. That quiet comes back to fill the space between you, allowing enough room for the silent sobs you’re both trying your best to hold in, small sniffles still escaping from each of you. You’re not sure if your brain has fully processed what he’s had to say. The only thing you can understand is the swirling of sadness and confusion in your gut and the pounding ache in your chest.

You take a scooch closer to him, the outsides of your thighs barely brushing together as you tilt your head to rest against his shoulder. It’s heavy, the weight you can’t help but lean against him, but the arm he wraps behind your back and around your waist tells you that he’ll gladly take it. He’ll take it all, if he has to.

“Did you already sign a contract to go?” The whisper of your words is so soft, like you’re hoping he can’t hear you. If he can’t hear you, then he doesn’t have to tell you the answer you don’t want to hear.

“Yeah. Me and Santi did a few weeks ago.” His voice is almost quieter than yours, convinced he has the same idea as you.

His truth stings worse than the lie he’s been masquerading behind the past four months. You want to scream at him- To curse him with shouts and sobs, question how he could make this choice for himself and leave you in the dark until it’s too late for you to change his mind. You know it’s selfish, the way you want him to stay, the way you would have fought with every bone in your body to keep him from leaving. You know it’s the reason Frankie couldn’t tell you.

It’s the same reason why Frankie couldn’t bring himself to tell you that if he had given you that chance, he probably would have stayed.

“Do um- do you know when you have to leave?”

It hurts to hear the words come out of your mouth. It’s an admittance of defeat. Because once you ask that question, there’s nothing you can do or say that will make him stay. No fighting, no begging, no pleading. You have to accept he’s leaving.

“Not ‘til the end of the summer.”

“Where?”

The more you ask, the more it makes you want to keel over the edge of the bed and vomit, the reality of it all setting in at an alarming pace.

“Missouri for basic training. I don’t know where after.”

He doesn’t have to say where. You both know. Even if he doesn’t know the exact longitude and latitude of where the Army will deploy him, there’s nowhere else they’re sending him besides Iraq or Afghanistan or whatever godforsaken, war ridden country in the Middle East he’ll be forced to put his life on the line for.

And for how much the reality of Frankie leaving scares you, when you’re hit with the reality that Frankie may leave and never come back, you’re absolutely terrified.

“I don’t want you to go, Frankie.”

You can’t beg him to stay. There’s no amount of bargaining you can do with him or the powers that be to change what’s been done. All you can do is tell him your truth as you sob into his chest while he holds you. Maybe if you’re not enough to make him stay, you’re at least enough to make him want to come home.

You’re not sure how long he holds you while you cry. Maybe it’s minutes, maybe it’s hours. However long it is, all the moments you have left with Frankie feel that much more precious. You won’t let any of them slip through your fingers.

“You promise you’ll come home, right?”

“I promise, MacKenzie. I promise.”

If there’s one thing you’ve learned about Francisco Morales, it’s that he’ll never break a promise. You just hope the universe is kind enough to let him keep this one, too.

“I promise that we’ll have a really fun summer together before I leave too, okay? Whatever you wanna do, Kenz, I’ll do it.”

“Anything?”

It’s enough to peek your head out from the crook of his neck, trying your best to wipe away your tears with your sleeve, like you hadn’t just stained the better part of Frankie’s sweatshirt with the same wetness.

“Anything.”

“Alright, well, I guess we’re gonna go to Dairy Queen and get an extra large blizzard every day until you’re too fat for the Army to want you anymore.”

The two of you giggle, a quiet symphony of soft snorts and sobs at the idea of rolling an ice cream filled Frankie off to boot camp. It makes him laugh even harder that he wouldn’t put it past you if you really did try. Perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world if you did.

“Whatever you want, MacKenzie. I’m all yours.”

Frankie, Present

Frankie’s convinced he might as well start training for a marathon at this point.

He’s not really sure how else to spend his time. It’s hard to keep himself occupied when all he can do at home is sit around and wait for your dad to die or stare out the window like a creep to watch your comings and goings.

At least if he’s running, he can’t think about you.

Well, he can’t think about you as much.

It’s been a day and a half since he decided to follow you on your run. He’s already pushed his luck enough that you didn’t damn near kill him for it, let alone that you even gave him a chance to talk to him.

He let you take the first shift on the morning yesterday, despite the fact he’d been awake well before the sun rose. The irony wasn’t lost on him at the way he watched you through his bedroom window the same way he did most Saturday and Sunday mornings for the first few years of your friendship. You’d be up at the same ungodly hour as him, except you’d be pacing up and down your driveway, stretching and lunging across its length as you clicked around on the iPod wrapped around your forearm, searching for whatever song would pump you up for your run.

It wasn’t until you had finally noticed Frankie peering out his bedroom window every weekend that you began to drag him along on your runs with you.

“If you’re awake too, you might as well come running with me, Morales. It’ll be fun!”

“Fine. I gotta warn you though, Kenz, I am actually pretty fast.”

“You barely run the mile in gym class.”

“Savin’ up all my energy for when I need it most, Anderson.”

There was once a time where you would have to beg Frankie to come with you on a run. Now, he’d give anything for you to tolerate his existence ten feet behind you.

But he’ll sacrifice another run alone through all too familiar roads of his childhood subdivision if it helps him kill time and keeps you from hating him anymore than you rightfully deserve to.

Yesterday, he went on two runs to pass the time. Hell, today, he’d consider adding a third run to his underwhelming schedule just to keep himself busy. Fortunately, (or unfortunately, he can’t tell yet) for him, Maria Morales has other plans.

And when Maria Morales has plans, it’s in Frankie’s best interest to drop anything else he had in mind for the day.

Even when it means he’s got a hot date with his basement and a mountain full of boxes in his basement.

“Okay, anything in this pile to the left is for you to go through.” His mom grunts, lifting up one last box to add to the heap labeled “Francisco’s things” in her perfectly curved cursive, “If you want to take it home, find an empty box to put it in, but not my new clear, plastic bins, entiendes (understand)? Those were expensive.”

“No clear plastic bins, got it.” Frankie chuckles, following the exaggerated step his mother takes over his scattered belongings.

“If you see something and you don’t want it now but you want me to keep it for later, you can put it over on the shelf by the stairs. If you think it’s basura (trash), leave it over here and let me look at it first before you throw it away.”

“Comprendido (got it).” Frankie nods, sizing up the stack his mom has set out for him, “Jesus ma, this is gonna take me all morning to go through.”

“If you were home more, there would be less things to go through now.”

“Yeah, well, you got me there.” Frankie grumbles under his breath, grimacing at the harsh reality of his mom’s words. He knows isn’t meant completely out of malice, but he can’t deny it’s certainly got some truth to it as well.

“Okay, well I need to go run some errands, and I want this pile sorted by the end of the day, so standing here and moping certainly isn’t going to help that. Get to work, mijo (son).”

His mom will never be one to throw a pity party for anyone, and most definitely won’t be throwing one for her son, based on his own, self-inflicted problem. Frankie helps her step over another makeshift pile scattered for sorting across the basement floor, giving him a quick pat on the back before disappearing upstairs, leaving him to quite literally unpack his past.

“Fuck. Okay.” He sighs to himself, gently kicking one of the edges of flimsy cardboard at the bottom of the tower, trying to formulate his best plan of attack to make his sorting as painless as possible.

He’s thankful that his brain has always worked in a way that allows him to analyze things so quickly, doing some quiet calculations in his head as to the most effective and efficient way to sort through god knows what may be hidden in the pile his mom has created for him.

He runs his hand through the still messy curls of his morning bed head before selecting what feels like the lightest boxes and moving them off to the side, opening up a cardboard container from the next layer.

Besides the trophies still in his room, every prize he’d ever won for every sport he’d ever played sits in the box below him. Frankie chuckles to himself, picking up some from the top to examine them, thumb gliding over the fake gold plating to read plaques like “Florida Junior Divisional Freestyle Swimming Finalist- 2005” or “Regional Championship Winners- Florida Firebirds 2007” glued to poorly sculpted plastic statues of swimmers. A few more medals and certificates had sunk to the bottom of the box, Frankie quickly grazing through its contents before rehoming it to the “trash” pile, unsure of when he would ever need proof he won several swimming competitions in high school.

The next few boxes were more of the same- His varsity jacket, old t-shirts he wouldn’t stand a chance fitting into, considering the gangly figure that stretched them more than a decade ago, some old books from high school he’d only kept because of how much you loved them and he promised you that one day, he’d read them, too.

It’s the shoe box that catches his eye next, sure that no matter how much his mom loved to hoard, whatever was in there most definitely was not a raggedy, holy pair of Converse from high school.

It’s not until he picks up the box that he knows exactly what’s inside. It’s one of the lightest things he’s picked up in the last hour, but when he knows the weight of its contents, his arms want to tremble.

It’s with a long deep breath that he brings the shoebox over to an open patch of floor, letting out a grunt and cursing his knees as he sits down cross legged with the box in front of him. He gently flips open the lid, hand running over his face and down the back of his neck when his suspicions are confirmed.

Open envelopes spill out over the edges of the worn cardboard, the box stuffed to the brim with every letter you’d ever written to him while he was away.

Even if he wanted to, he’s not sure he could ever physically bring himself to throw them out. Those letters have more miles on them than most people’s cars will ever reach in a lifetime, flimsy, stamped pieces of paper following him to every corner of the globe he’s traveled to.

Some letters he’s read so much, they’re worn on the edges where he’s held the paper, smudging the pen that’s reached the sides of the pages. Others, he’s only read once. He’s not sure he could ever bring himself to read them again. But regardless of their contents, he’d made a promise to you they’d stay with him.

“Better not get rid of those letters, Morales. Do you know how many hand cramps I’ve given myself trying to find the words to send halfway across the world to you? You better promise me you’ll keep ‘em.”

His commitment to the folded pieces of paper ring in his ears as his fingers drag across the tops of the open envelopes. He can’t help the way his index finger and thumb pinch the paper below his grasp, carefully tugging a random letter out of its shoebox storage.

It’s a gut wrenching gamble, the game he’s about to play, a roulette of making his heart ache from joy or pain depending on the one he chooses to pull. He’s already placed his bet as he pulls the lined piece of paper out of the envelope- He’s not getting the money he’s already placed on the table back, so he might as well pray he makes a return on his investment.

With one more deep breath, he unfolds the tri-fold creases, ready to watch his bet play out before him.

August 18th, 2006

Frankie,

I hope I sent this letter to the right place! I looked on the website and it said to send mail to new recruits (that’s you, Morales), to this address, so no one better be holding my letter to you hostage.

Anyways, how’s training so far? Did they make you shave your head yet? I hope not. I’m not sure why the Army insists on making you all look like Dr. Evil from Austin Powers. I’m sure you’ll still look cute even with short hair! I don’t think I can say the same for Santi, but you didn’t hear that from me… hehehe

I just moved into my dorm yesterday! My roommate seems pretty nice. Her name is Jessica and she’s from Georgia. She claims that she’s neat and she better be, or I may lose my mind. I’ll send you pictures of my dorm once it’s all set up! It’s kind of a mess right now, but I made sure to put the picture of us from prom up on my desk :)

I don’t start class until next Tuesday. Hopefully I’ll meet some new people in my dorm or on the soccer team so I’m not a total loser with no friends. LOL.

Have you met anyone new yet? I can’t wait to hear all about your new Army friends! I already started a countdown calendar until we can see each other again. Only 70 days until basic training is done and I can hear about everything in person!

I miss you a lot. I know that’s dumb to say because it’s only been a week, but still. I wish I would have kissed you again before you got on the plane to leave. I promise I will when I see you. Nothing says perfect place to kiss like South Missouri, romance capital of the USA (haha).

I know you’re gonna be busy, but write me back when you have time. The return address on the envelope is my dorm address, so use that, or risk Doug and Michelle reading your mail if you send it to my house!!! I can’t wait to hear from you. Miss you, weirdo.

From,

Kenz :) <3

His luck of the draw sends a wave of relief through him, smiling down at the curvy loops of your perfectly neat printing signed at the bottom of the page. It makes his heart skip a beat, the same kind of butterflies coming to life in his stomach as they did the first time he read it. He’s earned his money back and then some. He gets how casinos never go broke, because the high of good fortune is enough to have him reaching back into the box to put another gamble on the line.

October 13th, 2009

Frankie,

I always feel dumb sending multiple letters before I hear back from you, but you know me, I love to worry. I know you can’t tell me where you are right now (stupid military and their secrets for the safety of society lol) but I’ve been seeing stuff on the news and it makes me scared for you. I just hope wherever you are, you’re safe.

My dad’s cancer is back. He’s been in the hospital for almost two weeks now. They found a new mass on his liver, but they said hopefully they can target it with radiation before it starts to spread. Cassandra at the front desk asked how you were when I was at the hospital yesterday. I said that you were good. I think she’s only asking because if you’re not there, there’s no one to keep me from burning a hole in the waiting room carpet.

I wish you were here. I feel really lost right now. I just know if you were here, you’d find a way to make everything better. You always do.

Sorry this letter isn’t longer. I haven’t been sleeping that great and don’t have enough brainpower to write something decent. Just wanted to let you know what’s going on.

Counting down the days until you make good on your promise. I hope you come home soon, Frankie.

Kenzie

He curses himself for an unlucky draw, heart sinking at the tear stains smearing the blue ink of your trembling letters. An overwhelming wave of guilt washes over him, vivid memories of reading your notes in his bunk alone, wishing there was a way he could fly halfway around the world for a night just to hold you and tell you that everything was going to be okay.

It’s the addictive itch in the back of his brain that makes him decide to pull one more letter from the box, taking one last gamble to see if he can prove the nagging pit in his stomach to quit while he’s ahead, wrong.

February 4th, 2011

Hey,

If you don’t want to write anymore, that’s fine. I was trying to be friendly, but clearly you don’t really care. Just let me know and I’ll stop bombarding you with mail you obviously don’t want. Or I guess you not responding is letting me know. If you want to send anything back you can send it to my parents house. I’m moving into Liam’s house and it’s only 20 minutes away so I can just drive there and pick it up. No need to send you a new address you probably aren’t going to write to, anyways.

I guess I’ll see you when I see you.

MacKenzie

And that’s how Vegas will always stay in business.

Because now Frankie is forced to walk away, all his money stolen from him at the stupid risk he’s decided to take. The one letter he’d give anything not to read again is the one he had to pull.

Heat seethes in his chest- he can’t quite explain why. Because he lost at a rigged game he’d set up for himself? That he still hasn’t quite come to terms with the ugly truth of what he put the both of you through? That he wishes with everything in him, he could go back and change what he’s done?

Or maybe, it’s because now might be the last chance he has to fix what he’s broken, and he’s not sure he’ll ever be able to live with himself if he can’t.

He leaves the pile in the basement unfinished, shoes barely tied to his feet before he bursts out the door in a sprint.

He's not sure where he's going. He's not even sure how long he's run for. All he knows is the pounding of his feet against the pavement, trying to outrun the stupid decisions of his past.

He tells himself if he runs fast enough, he'll beat them.

If he goes far enough, they'll be forgotten.

If he outraces them, you'll be there waiting for him at the finish line.

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felassan · 3 days ago

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David Gaider on Morrigan, under a cut for length:

"Morrigan began, waaaay back, as a bit of Morgan le Fey (hence the Dark Ritual) mixed with Delirium from Sandman. The Delirium elements subsided into more of a weird cadence of speech as my idea of Morrigan solidified - more cynical, wanting to connect but unable to. Originally, we were looking for a Middle Eastern actress to play her, as Shoreh Aghdashloo was slated to play Flemeth and we wanted a similar sounding voice -- but it was a real struggle, and then Shoreh unfortunately had to drop out to do a movie. So suddenly we had nobody for either character! Then, one day, Caroline (our VO Director) comes in with a recording sent by a rep for Claudia Black - who hadn't done game VO back then but wanted to get into it. And it was Claudia doing a slow *beat poet* rendition of Baby Got Back. I kid you not. I was already a fan, so I lost my goddamn mind. (Yes, I still have the recording. No, you cannot have it.) Naturally, we jumped on that immediately. As I recall, this was met with resistance from higher up - they had this image of Morrigan as young, like 18 years old (no idea where this came from) and complained that Claudia sounded "too old". Them: "She sounds like she smokes three packs a day!" Me: "That's what I like about her!" Caroline and I were determined, so we pushed ahead. We had to agree to get Claudia to sound "younger", which I was dubious about. The first two sessions we asked her to pitch her voice up and it was AWFUL. Claudia had to focus on sounding "right" instead of acting. So Caroline and I did the sneaky thing, and on the third session we asked her to just... act. Use her natural voice. We loved her performance so much we had the feeling that the team would love it too and forget their nonsense. They did. My best memory of Claudia was when we first met. I'd been flown down to LA for the initial sessions to help the major DAO actors find the character "voice" and, boy, was I nervous. It didn't help that I was a huge fanboy of Claudia's and she was going to be the *first* of all the actors I'd talk to. Caroline gave me a list of rules for "how to talk to a celebrity" - top of the list: DO NOT COMPARE THEM TO OTHER ACTORS. So I meet Claudia, and I'm sweating. I think: I'll start from the beginning, right? "Well, when I started writing Morrigan, the voice in my head was Helena Bonham Carter..." Claudia gives me a look and tilts her head. "So what you're saying is... I'm a very cheap version of Helena Bonham Carter." I'm mortified. I melt. I gasp and stutter and she lets me implode for maybe 30 seconds before she throws her head back and LAUGHS. So wicked. I love her instantly and forever. For the next several days, whenever she's in the booth and I make a comment to Caroline - which she can't hear, because the booth is sound-proof - she'd say "Oh, does he want it more like Helena?" And I'd melt into the desk in renewed mortification and she'd LAUGH. This is Claudia in a nutshell. Morrigan became a real touchstone for me, the heart of DAO. Way beyond her initial inspirations. Some said "she's just an ice queen" like some I'd written (Viconia, Bastila, etc.) but such categories are very reductive, I find. She had a voice I could instantly slip into, every time, without fail. The problem, after DAO was said and done, was with how we were going to honour the Dark Ritual going forward... or, more to the point, how we *weren't* going to honour it. I wasn't willing to let her go, however, so I had to figure it out. BUT... that's a story for another day. CORRECTION: A friend reminds me that the beat poet recording Claudia did was "Smack That" and NOT "Baby Got Back", and now I need to go give it another listen just because I can."

[source thread]

David Gaider: "Actually, when Shoreh's movie wrapped she came back and asked if the role was still available - her grandkids were VERY excited for her to be in a game. It wasn't, but as I recall Caroline was all "well, we have this role in ANOTHER game we're making..." Hence why she ended up in ME2." [source]

David Gaider: "Tali's accent was purely created by the actress - which made it a bit of an Issue when the time came to have more Quarians in ME2. "Do we get the actors to all try and mimic... whatever she's doing?" I'm certain Caroline could write a book about how THAT all went down." [source]

User: "I also never knew that Delerium was part of the inspiration for her (atleast in the beginning)." David Gaider: "It'd be difficult to see that now. The very first drafts were a lot more eccentric - more like Flemeth, I'd say, but times ten. The feedback I got was that she's a bit too LALALULU and I had to agree (and my idea of her was changing anyhow). So that slowly got weeded out." [source]

User: "What had you seen Claudia in that made you such a big fan already? (was it pitch black?)" David Gaider: "Originally? Farscape. Then Pitch Black, yes. I tried watching Stargate just for her, but coming in so late I kinda bounced off it." [source]

User: "My only complaint is, and has always been, why is she the straight romance when everything about her screams lesbian?" David Gaider: "I would have written it, if it’d been allowed (remember this was VERY new back then), but after all was said and done I’m kind of glad I didn’t. The friendship path I wrote for Morrigan with a female Warden is perhaps my favourite but of writing I did from back then." [source]

User: "Morrigant to me was such a fantastic character because of the way she sounded! Her introduction in DAO is iconic to me "Well, Well, what have we here?"" David Gaider: "You have NO IDEA how many takes that took. 😳" [source]

User: "Claudia Black did an amazing job with every line in every game." David Gaider: "She absolutely did. It took some time for her to get her bearings, but by the end of our first few sessions I actually went back and re-wrote a bunch of lines to match Claudia's voice. She informed so much of who Morrigan became." [source]

User: "are YOU the reason we see so much morrigan after dao? (positively, she is one of my all time favourite characters)" David Gaider: "Yes and no. She was always considered, by both me and the team, to be a "face" of Dragon Age. I'd have put her in DA2 if there'd been room, but thankfully that limitation is what allowed Flemeth to grow into her own." [source]

User: "were Morrigan and Flemeth always supposed to be Chasind, and/or did the Chasind have any ties to northern Thedas in earlier drafts of the character? The Chasind are universally depicted with dark skin except for Morrigan and Flemeth." David Gaider: "I don't think we had a very clear idea of the Chasind in general back then - they kind of got abandoned as a concept once we cut the Human Barbarian origin for DAO, and were only picked up again later." [source]

#dragon age #bioware #morrigan #queen of my heart #video games #long post #longpost #mass effect #lgbtq

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nipuni · 3 days ago

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Yapping time, Hello! It's rainy and Nicolas is making lentil stew 🥰

I wanted to thank everyone for the enthusiasm over my art and all the comments you sent yesterday 😭 you are all very sweet you make me excited to share and keep making art and that is such a huge gift I'll always be grateful for. I not very proficient at social media and keeping up with everything everywhere and end up feeling like I'm not thanking you enough or talking enough so I want to make sure you know that every comment and funny tag makes my day!!

I was going to make more posts talking about DAV but halfway through writing down my frustrations I realized I was not having a good time (and most of my issues with the game have already been covered by Chelsea over twitter way more eloquently too 😆) so I'm going to focus on the parts I did enjoy! I settled on a personality for Rook and now I'll probably replay as a couple of classes to find the one I enjoy the most since I've only tried mage so far.

We also got back to our quest of watching all of David Tennant's work! now in our cozy new sitting room with a fireplace 😭 what the fuck

We finally watched 'Rivals'! We were not expecting it to be a raunchy Pride and Prejudice in the 80's lmao. It was very YA and very gratuitously sexual which is not something we normally go for. We were not really into the main couple and were more invested in Declan's success and whatever Tony and Cameron had going on lmao but it was a fun watch regardless!

Then we also watched 'You, Me and Him' and we were expecting it to be one of those 'it's so bad it's good' cringy comedies but it was genuinely so funny and sweet lmao we always seem to have opposite taste to most critic sites sjakfh The styling was so accurate and hilarious and it felt very Hallmark. We loved it!!

Now we will probably watch the second season of Arcane! we loved the first one a lot so I'm sure this one won't disappoint.

We are trying so hard to resist the urge to rewatch Doctor Who, Broadchurch, There She Goes and Jessica Jones though lmao our crush remains as strong as ever if not stronger 😭

I think I've read every single Broadchurch fic in existence at this point, and I'm painting Alec as we speak oughhgrh help

Other random updates, we managed to get train tickets for a short trip to Madrid on Christmas so we can spend it with Nicolas' family who are still visiting. And also Nicolas is learning about mushrooms since he found a bunch growing in our garden and it has become his latest passion. Now he wants to go gathering, he has already cooked a bunch, he is so excited.

Anyway I think that is all for now!! I'll have more art soon now that I'm finally settled and can get back to my normal schedule 😊 I hope you are all doing well!

#nips blogs #personal

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thewriteadviceforwriters · 1 day ago

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Do you have any tips on how characters react after a heat in the moment first kiss?

Hey there! I'm so glad you reached out about depicting characters' reactions after an unexpected first kiss. This is such an important and tricky moment to get right in any romance story.

I don't talk enough about romance, so I've very excited to write a blog post about this, especially since in almost all my writing projects I utilize a romantic subplot.

Understanding the Emotional Impact

First things first, it's important to recognize just how powerful and transformative that first kiss can be for your characters, even if it's spur-of-the-moment or unplanned. A kiss like that has the power to shift the entire dynamic between two people, unlocking a whole new level of vulnerability, intimacy, and emotional intensity.

Think about it - your characters have probably been building up tension, attraction, and unspoken feelings for each other over time. And then, in one electric moment, all of that comes bubbling to the surface. Suddenly, everything changes. The world seems to slow down, and all that matters is the connection between them.

Whether your characters have been pining for this moment or it takes them completely by surprise, that first touch of their lips is guaranteed to trigger a whirlwind of emotions. Excitement, nervousness, relief, uncertainty - it's a veritable emotional rollercoaster.

And of course, the way each character responds will depend on their individual personality, past experiences, and overall mindset. A shy, cautious character might be utterly flustered and overwhelmed. A bold, adventurous one might be thrilled and eager for more. And someone with trust issues or a painful romantic history might panic and pull away.

The key is to really get inside your characters' heads and hearts, understanding how this monumental moment resonates with them on a deep level. That's what's going to make their reactions feel raw, authentic, and achingly real for your readers.

Crafting Nuanced Reactions

(The examples I use are very cliche, and personally not my writing style, but they're simply for your reference to get a rough idea of what I'm trying to indicate)

Okay, now that we've established the emotional gravity of that first kiss, let's dive into some specific techniques for portraying your characters' reactions. Here are a few ideas:

Focus on the sensations. When a character experiences something as intense as an unexpected first kiss, their physical responses are going to be heightened. Capture the racing heartbeat, the trembling hands, the tingling skin - all those little visceral details that make the moment palpable.

For example (Very cliche but, just for reference): "Her lips were soft and warm against his, sending a shiver down his spine. His heart pounded in his ears, fingers trembling as he cupped her cheek, hardly daring to breathe."

Showcase their inner turmoil. Don't just describe what's happening externally - give us a window into your character's jumbled thoughts and feelings. Are they overjoyed? Confused? Terrified? Let us see the full emotional spectrum unfolding.

Like this: "Panic rose in her chest as his lips met hers, every nerve ending firing at once. What was happening? This couldn't be real - it had to be some kind of dream. But the way her skin tingled, the way her stomach fluttered, told her this was very much reality."

Use body language and subtle reactions. Characters don't always have to respond with grand, over-the-top gestures. Sometimes the most meaningful reactions come through in the little, unconscious movements - a shy glance, a gentle touch, a subtle smile.

For instance: "For a long moment, they simply stared at each other, frozen. Then, slowly, a smile tugged at the corners of her lips, eyes sparkling with a mix of wonder and delight."

Lean into the awkwardness. First kisses, even magical ones, can also be a little clumsy and uncertain. Embrace that sense of fumbling vulnerability - it makes the moment all the more endearing and relatable.

Something like: "Their noses bumped as they leaned in, hearts racing. He hesitated, suddenly unsure, but then her hand slid around the back of his neck, pulling him closer. Their lips met in a tentative, exploratory kiss that sent tingles down his spine."

Contrast reactions between characters. If you have two characters with very different personalities or perspectives, lean into that contrast to create compelling dramatic tension. How might a guarded, cynical character react compared to an optimistic romantic?

For example: "She froze, eyes wide with shock. This was the last thing she'd expected - to be kissed by her best friend, of all people. Panic fluttered in her chest, desperate to pull away. But then she saw the vulnerability in his gaze, the slight tremble in his hands, and her heart melted. Slowly, hesitantly, she kissed him back."

The key is to get creative, have fun, and be able to let your characters' unique voices and perspectives shine through.

Additional Resources

And of course, don't hesitate to reach out if you have any other questions! I'm always happy to chat more about anything writing related.

--Rin T.

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anyaskalliope · 10 hours ago

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Mel and Jayce Deserved Much Better

After experiencing horrors and walking through valleys and shadows, I truly hoped Mel would break down this season and unleash her emotions. Especially since she spent the entire season unlearning hardness with Jayce being so openly affectionate and emotional. This final act was honestly a slap in the face.

The one person she hoped would offer her that safety net to do this completely shuts her down. Mel was always cognizant of his feelings, constantly looking out for him, advising him, and teaching him. She shared with him her deepest insecurities and vulnerabilities. I can understand if Mel and Jayce are both going their separate ways because of the Noxus plot but to have him be this cold, and distant, and show a lack of understanding toward her plight is bizarre.

Mel comes back with a changed appearance and a different demeanor, and he doesn't even ask what happened. He seems to not care. Jayce isn't even giving her a chance to explain herself and just keeps coming at her and you can see the moment when Mel puts all her walls back up. Don't even get me started on the fact that he held the hammer in his hand for most of the time.

Their interactions during this act paint Jayce as one large hypocrite. He benefitted from all of Mel's teachings, from her providing comfort and affection, to her investments in Hextech. Asking her why she didn't save Viktor like she had something against him was wild.

This is the same Mel who offered comfort to Jayce when Viktor was severely injured during the explosion. The same Mel who immediately understood why Jayce left after their night together, recognized the importance of Viktor to Jayce.

If Mel could protect everybody in that room, she would. When she explains her lack of awareness of her abilities to him, he just keeps going on and on.

And the apology with the "passenger" line was just bad. It lacked a certain level of remorse that I would expect from Jayce of all people. Where is that good-hearted man who could tell when people aren't feeling their best, that person who always wanted to help people and make their lives better?

I think the Survivor Jayce is not the Jayce that Mel fell in love with, this is another man. The Jayce she fell in love with died at the bottom of that cave. The survivor Jayce is Viktor's passenger.

Jayce abandoned not just Mel but also his mother who protected him many times to be with Viktor in the afterlife?? In what universe is Jayce pulling that shit?

Now Mel's heading off to Noxus. A nation that doesn't align with her values and morals and would most likely have to harden herself to rule or have influence there. I hate it all. I hate that Black women always have to be strong. We actually had an opportunity to see a Black woman who grew up in that environment slowly shed those walls with a man who actually loved her and was openly affectionate and vulnerable. I'm so sad that it was taken from us. I'm sick and tired of the strong Black woman trope.

With how mischaracterized her motives and actions towards Jayce are, I for one cannot say that I'm excited for a spin-off series with Mel as a main character. Not with this writing team and this fandom.

To me, this show ended in season 1 with Zaun becoming independent, Jinx not firing the rocket, and Mel and Jayce growing together as individuals and as a couple.

#Mel Medarda #Jayce Talis #MelJay #Mel x Jayce #arcane #Let Black women be in love #I'm tired of the strong Black woman trope

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lily-onher-grave · 2 days ago

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okay okay okay thoughts/excited ramblings about the wicked movie under the cut bc i've seen it and now i'm insane about it again

let's be real it's kinda hard to fumble the opening number of a musical especially when that opening number is no one mourns the wicked and yet i was still absolutely blown away it was SO GOOD

the lil munchkins running, the singing in the streets, the posters of the witch (side note all the artwork was insanely good and just added so much to the style of oz i feel like) it was all so awesome

NOMTW becomes so sinister and they nailed it

obligatory emotional babbling about glinda standing alone in the crowd as everyone sings 'the wicked's lives are lonely'

before i left for the theater i was like 'take your bets on if i'll cry' and my roommate and i agreed that yeah obviously i would. but what i didn't expect is for ariana's sad face to knock me out in five minutes flat. i was done for

the effigy. holy shit. and handing the torch to glinda. i want to go see the whole thing again just so i can rewatch that scene. my heart still hurts

(also nanny! sort of not really. but i liked the childhood scenes i liked that elphaba had one (1) good thing in her life before shiz)

SHIZ okay shiz honestly shiz was the thing i was most excited for bc c'mon, we don't write about our gothic magic school all the time in fic for nothing. and honestly it was so good. the shots of the whole castle! the library design! the balcony moments and the stairways and just like the layers of architecture and the way morrible could kind of be anywhere at any time. the way it felt so grand and yet so small at the same time. idk man the vibes were good and the set was beautiful

glinda arriving by boat was magical that's all

the way everything dillamond had was tailored to him was fantastic it was so good

actually i want to shout out the library set design again and how it tied into the clockwork theme that never gets fully called out even in the musical but it's still so good

where's my time dragon clock tho

also back up the scene where elphaba loses her temper in the courtyard--when she breaks the relief of the wizard, there's old artwork of Animals behind it and i gasped out loud when i saw it

and that was the first moment i thought 'this is brilliant but i still want an hbo dark fantasy political drama tv show based on the book'

speaking of the dark fantasy political drama tv shows, the Animal meeting!! i'm so glad they put more stuff like that in there

actually as a whole the movie felt more grounded and less comedic than the musical. i think they did a fantastic job of keeping the magic and silliness and charm and wonder of the show while still adding those extra bits of drama and dire circumstances

anyway gelphie fic prank wars trope is officially canon great work everybody handshakes all around. i was cackling (silently. i promise i'm a respectful moviegoer)

the ozdust ballroom being illegal makes so much sense. it being underwater was fucking cool. boq and nessa were actually really great and i usually don't care about them at all during this scene

also i love love love nessa and i cannot wait to see more of her. but showing her multiple times on the sidelines when elphie was being humiliated was such a good choice. the tension between nessa obviously caring for her sister yet always caring for herself more is so delicious and i always want to see it fleshed out more, and i think they did such a good job with her? her and elphaba have sweet moments which i love, and her wanting to be independent and only elphaba really understanding that is so so good. and having her just watching elphaba for so long before finally saying she can't watch. god i can't wait to see her be desperate and selfish and cold in act 2, it's gonna be so good

side note boq also looking upset by elphie being bullied. i miss my brotp man

but let's talk about what's most important: the gelphie dance. because oh my god i started crying all over again. so did elphaba. and glinda wiping her tears i'm dying i've died oh my god

i always get a little bit surprised when glinda seems more head over heels than elphaba. idk why. but ariana's glinda is absolutely more head over heels than cynthia's elphaba and i loved it

(they just. freaking LEFT the party. just zipped out of there as soon as they hugged. glinda was like hmmm i just realized some things and grabbed elphaba's hand and ran off while the night was young. and fiyero stared after them knowing that he stood no chance whatsoever)

also i'm like 72% sure the guys sitting next to me were a couple? and they both cried during the gelphie dance too and it was a very unexpected but very funny moment of solidarity

i say ariana's glinda is more head over heels and i stand by it but elphaba's fond little smile when glinda was pouting about sharing secrets almost made me start sobbing again they're so GOOD they're so CUTE and she is SO heart eyes for glinda immediately!!!

i need to be sedated i swear

popular was adorable 10/10 no notes absolutely nailed it i loved every second

also glinda sitting next to elphaba in class now. my heart <3

after dillamond gets hauled away (again with this being more violent and dark and those moments of drama coming through more in the movie i loveeee) glinda doesn't sit down until elphaba does

also they had several little moments of elphaba looking to glinda and glinda either shaking her head or nodding. they've been friends for 2 days and they're already having silent conversations i love them <3

the poppy spell? was sick as hell????

another seeing of wicked, another complete sense of bafflement as to why fiyero is there

i say this jokingly but the fiyero and elphaba romance really does feel like a product of the early 2000s especially now that it's on screen rather than on stage. idk maybe that's just the lesbian in me talking though

the train design is also sick but we knew that from the trailers

okay look logically yes i knew idina and kristin would have cameos. but i'd been crying on and off and one short day's magic had already taken hold so they caught me completely off guard. it was great

the wizard stuff was really sweet. and while i was hoping for more time put toward shiz and stuff, i do think those moments did a great job of 1) showing how much elphaba just wants to be loved 2) foreshadowing the wizard being her father and 3) laying the groundwork for her briefly considering working with the wizard in act 2, which is a decision that never quiteee feels right in the show

i love that they put more lore into the grimmerie btw. very cool

the hot air balloon was random but fun. i wonder if it'll come up again in act 2

every time. every damn time glinda starts singing in defying gravity i just want someone to end it right there. glinda grabs the broom, it fades to black, and they both lived happily ever after

fuck

defying gravity taking place at sunset because it's at the end of their one short day of happiness

also UM morrible coming up and hugging glinda when she's crying. exquisite emotional manipulation i'm screaming

elphie! seeing! her! inner! child! i loved the baby elphie scenes even though i prefer creepy 'horrors' elphaba always. but seeing her come back was sooooo fucking good

elphaba only ever relying on herself, in the end

glinda's final 'i hope you're happy' took me out, as it always does, as it always should. and reaching out from the balcony? i'm sobbing again

morrible dragging glinda into the darkness while elphaba flies into the sun! someone fucking help me i'm already wrecked by these two

honestly my biggest complaint is that now i have to wait for part two, i want to see the rest nowwwww

#wicked movie #gelphie #gelphie my beloved oh my god #a bunch of my friends saw it and were like 'it's amazing everyone should see it'#and i was like yeah i mean i trust your opinion #but is it 'i was obsessed with this for some of the most important years of my life #and i hold it with such a reverence that borders on possessiveness' good?#but lemme tell you it was pretty damn amazing and everyone should see it #also side note i think nomtw is my new favorite wicked song

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not-rigel · 1 day ago

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would you be interested in writing Sevika x (top) reader who is taller than her, stronger than her, and overall just larger than her and very masculine BUTTT is very submissive??? Kinda like a power bottom Sevika x sub top reader situation👀👀

uhhh YEA!!! hope i did your idea justice!

a little treat for arcane eve (i can expand more after arcane ends but i felt we needed a liiiitle enjoyment before losing our collective minds)

Set between s2 act 1 and 2

WC: 1.1k

Sevika honestly couldn't blame everyone for dropping ship when Silco decided to quit breathing. They have their own lives to lead. But the fact that you stayed stood out to her. When she sat in Silco’s office beaten and broken, you were the one that came to deliver the news and defend the Last Drop with her from the Chem Barons influence. You made grieving easier but the feeling was never gone. Sevika couldn’t talk about those things so most of the time she settled for drinking or flirting with you. Right now she decided on teasing you in her new office.

“So, pipsqueak, what’ll you do if I can't fix this shitstorm?”

You roll your eyes, you have no idea why she insists on giving you stupid nicknames, “Sevika, I could throw you across the room without even trying. Between the two of us, you’re the pipsqueak. And everything’ll be fine.”

“I argue that I can take you,” she says. Unbeknownst to you, she doesn’t mean in a fight.

She's been attracted to you the very moment she saw you, back when Silco hired you on for muscle. She never made a move, for the sake of professionalism. Even after Silco’s death she held back, unsure how she’d emotionally handle a sexual entanglement. But she was getting better, now that weeks have passed and she changed her look. So she let herself consider making a move.

“Alright, and how many times have I held you back while you were on shimmer?” you challenged.

“That’s in the past, pipsqueak. I'm talking now.”

There’s that nickname again, “Fuck you, Sevika. You need to stop calling me that, please.”

“Are you offering?” she quips back.

Your eyebrows pinch in confusion, “I don’t know what you mean by that.”

“You said ‘fuck you’. I’m asking if you were offering to fuck me,” she clarifies.

You’re speechless. Sure, you’ve thought about Sevika in that way on several occasions but it was always just a thought. You thought about her, when she barked out orders to Silco’s goons. Or stared down at Enforcers, daring them to so much as lay a finger on her. She was always scarier than you in that regard, someone who could take real charge. It always excited you. You watch her now, for some sign that she was messing with you but you can’t find any.

“Not initially but… I’m offering now,” you say before hesitation can sink in.

She smirks, standing from the sofa and walking over to the desk. You watch her open a drawer and pull out something you recognize. It’s her old choker, the one she wore before changing her appearance. You gulp as she approaches you.

“What’s that for?” you asked.

“It’s for you,” she explains. She fits the collar around your neck, adjusting the fit. You think it might be too loose but she slips a finger underneath and drags you to her by it. You let out a whimper as she pulls you by the choker to her lips.

“You’re so strong, so tall, so fucking masc. It turns me on so fucking much,” she whispers against your lips. You could take control right now, she’s only exerting a small amount of force over you. Holding you in place by a choker, but you don’t resist her.

She pulls the collar again, setting her lips right by your ear, “Been waiting for you to fuck me.”

Immediately you’re filled with nerves. You love to top but you’re not dominant, despite what your appearance might suggest. You want to fuck her and by all physical means you could manhandle her, but it never came naturally to you.

“Can you… Tell me what to do? I really want you, I do,” you sigh.

Sevika shivers. She’s never met anyone so perfect before. Sevika needs you to fuck her, but more than that she needed to boss you around. It always gave her the sweetest thrill. And to boss around someone physically stronger than her, to have you relent all the power to her? She could fall in love in a minute.

“Would you submit for me? Let me boss you around? Tell you how I’ve dreamed about you fucking me?” She purrs into your ear. Her words are sweet drops of fire, licking your skin deliciously.

Your chest rises and falls with heavy, uneven breaths, “Yes. Fuck, I’d love it.”

“You’re so strong and all I have to do to get you weak for me is pull you by your collar? You’re so precious,” she moans.

“I like it when you boss people around. Made me so wet. I’d do anything you tell me to, please Sevika,” there was no holding it in now, the choker and her words eased you into subspace.

That’s how you find yourself knelt between her spread thighs while she sits with her ass perched on the edge of the sofa, shoving your head into her cunt. She doesn’t wait for you to find her clit, instead shifting her hips to move it below your lips.

“Grab my hips,” she orders, needing you to manhandle her. Just to show that you could control her, but ultimately won’t. You grip her hips, and she shifts her thighs over your shoulders so you have to hold her weight up. You rest your elbows onto the sofa for support, and hold her hips in the air. Both of you were feeling a perfect rush, the sexual dynamic making you thrive like you never had before.

Sevika groans hearing your sweet little whimpers as she begins to grind onto your face. You move to keep up with her grinding, trying to hold the suction you have on her clit.

“Stick your tongue out, mouse,” she demands. She loves giving you nicknames to insinuate you’re small. You’re not little, and she loved that. Every time you convinced her to drop one nickname, she came up with another. It was a power trip for her.

You flatten out your tongue so she can ride it, and you moan as her fluids spread over your face. She leaked onto your chin and you loved the sensation of being covered in her. Loved how she barks commands at you.

“Shit, gonna cum on your handsome face,” she announces, knees bending to pull you closer. You keep your tongue still, letting her ride your face until you feel her thighs tremble. Her thighs squeeze your head as her hips stop their movement. You shove your tongue into her cunt, feeling her walls pulse around it. She cums loud and hard, juices leaking down your chin and neck. You shudder, feeling your own arousal drip from you. When her orgasm is over, she has you set her back onto the couch.

“You’re not done, runt. Still need you inside of me,” she rasps. You’re alight with excitement for more of her demands, ready to beg for her all night long.

#sevika x reader #sevika x you #sevika x masc!reader #i love sevika

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apricot-blossomss · 2 days ago

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Mm what about a date night with the gods/goddesses? (you can choose whoever you’d like to write this for, but I’d love for it to include hermes! if you do decide to write this tysm in advance <3)

☛ date night with the gods [apollo, hermes, ares, dionysus x reader]

☛ sfw; I'm pretty busy right now, so until I have the time for oneshots, something shorter...

APOLLO takes you to a concert

There were few things Apollo loved more than impressing you with his skills. Boasting with his prophetic abilities, winking at you when fixing up injuries, but most of all singing to you the songs he composed in honor of you. The only downside to that was that he couldn't really have you like this when he did: flush against him, your impossibly soft lips on his, both drunk on each other and the music filling your ears.

When he found out you had a favorite artist after him, his first instinct was to call for a contest of skill, but the guy did have talent that was put to good use right now: you were delighted to be at the concert and he could kiss you stupid between singing people and dancing bodies. You had fantastic taste in music, he had to admit the singer was truly an artist, even though he of course didn't even come close to his level.

Your hips mimicked his movement, moving subconsciously with the rhythm. In need of air, you broke from the kiss -you mortals were all so bound by nature- looking up at him with those starry eyes of yours. His gaze wandered from your stunningly beautiful eyes down to your kiss-bitten lips and he grinned at you, nudging your nose with his and prompting you to meet his lips once more. Apollo had unshakable confidence, but it didn't hurt to remind you of how amazing he was when the artist started playing one of your favorite songs of his discography.

After a few second, you broke away from the gentle kisses once more, but not to breathe. You leaned closer to him and started to sing along to the music, right next to his ear. His initial mild annoyance at you singing another artist's song quickly faded, because you were singing just for him. You were always very adamant to avoid singing in his presence because you were insecure, but now you were singing and Apollo could have dropped to his knees for you right there on the dance floor.

Instead, he leaned closer to you, engulfed you in his arms and started singing along as well, quietly, close to your ear. A light shudder ran over your body and your voice quivered a little, making him smile. Softly swaying, singing to each other in your own little bubble, surrounded by the hustle and bustle of an electrocuted crowd and the vibrations of a deep bass, his world shrank down. From the limitless perception of a god down to just you and him, just this moment, frozen in time, forever.

HERMES runs through new york with you

"Stop!" you had to cry out, stumbling to a halt as Hermes' arm sneaked around your waist to stabilize you against him. Pressing a hand into your side, you gasped for air, completely out of breath. Your godly companion broke out into a hazy giggle when you panted against him and earned a playfully upset stare. "I'm not as fast as you, Hermes."

"Sorry, baby," the god smiled sheepishly, bobbing up and down on the balls of his feet. You waved it off and kneeled down on the ground, completely drained. When Hermes had proposed to take you out on a date night, you hadn't imagined speeding through New York with him, slipping in and out of the never ending shadows of the skyscrapers, faces lit up in a rainbow of the colors of the colorful blinking shop signs.

"Noo, don't give up now, baby," Hermes cooed, pulling you to your feet and ignoring your weak protests. His eyes were gleaming with excitement- and a hint of madness. "We're almost there."

"We're going somewhere?" you asked weakly and a wide, boyish grin spread across his features. "Of course! Up there." And he pointed at the top of the tall office building you had paused at. Your jaw fell slack. "You're kidding."

He wasn't.

Moments later, he was lifting you up by the waist; five, ten, twenty feet off the ground and even higher up. One look at the disappearing ground had your stomach churn, so you opted for burying your face in Hermes' chest. A soft peck on your cheek made you look up into his eyes. In them, you saw the lights of the city reflected. Blue, red, yellow, green, purple. There were no stars to be seen over New York. But that was fine. You had one of your own. And he shone even brighter.

ARES takes you to a restaurant

Ares was sweating, and the suit didn't help. Checking his clock every other second, even though you weren't even late yet. Still, he felt just about ready to kill the next peasant that gave him an irritating look, as he was waiting before the most expensive restaurant of the city, alone, writhing and looking more like a security guard than anything else. Why had he come twenty minutes early? Now he looked like an idiot.

Restaurants weren't really his thing. If it had been solely up to him, he would have taken you to a fighting ring or an exciting war zone, but for you, he wanted to make everything perfect. So, when he asked chatGPT for help and it had told him that a good date idea was to take your significant other to the restaurant, he had been willing to set his discomfort aside.

"Ares!"

It was almost embarrassing how fast his frown subsided and was replaced by a rare smile on his features at the sight of you, stumbling out of an uber in a knee-long red dress that took his breath away. Seemingly not too experienced in your red heels, you wobbled up the way to the entrance and Ares met you halfway, instinctively putting an arm around your waist to stabilize you.

"You look pretty," he murmured under his breath and thought about how frustrating it was to know that his brother could have composed an ode to your beauty while he was left desperately searching his blank mind for the appropriate words. But even though his words had been all but poetic, you lit up and smiled at him brightly. "Thank you, Ares. You too." Ares hid his blush by turning to the entrance and nudging you forward, but the gentle tap of your hand told him you saw right through him.

DIONYSUS took you to a party... you think...

You were probably giggling, but all you could hear was the rushing in your ears and your favorite sound on earth: the laugh of your divine lover. Slumping against Dionysus, you passed by some pedestrians that were no doubt giving you dirty looks, but you really couldn't tell. A knot of two intertwined bodies swaying down the quiet suburban street in the dead of night, laughing obnoxiously and black out drunk.

How had you even gotten here? The fresh air helped a little with the fog in your mind, but one look at Dionysus' fiery eyes and you were in a blissful haze once more. The only reason your stumbling feet hadn't sent you falling to the ground yet was the inebriated god's arms around your waist as the two of you ran away from piqued suburban pedestrians on the late evening walk into the parking lot of some supermarket.

"How did we get here?" you wheezed, stumbling around the parking area. Dionysus only shrugged, his face showing the cutest of pouts. "It's not very fun here."

Shrugging off his arms, you sat down on the concrete and flopped onto your back, looking up at the sky. There was a decent number of stars to be seen. The god layed down beside you much more gracefully and rolled onto his belly, encircling your waist with his arms and hiding his face in the crook of your neck where he placed a trail of sloppy, drunken kisses.

You felt his lips move against your neck, giggling out drunken little confessions, his arms pulling you more tightly against his chest. His soft body and your pleasantly buzzing head minimized the discomfort of the concrete as you cuddled into him. Your eyes wandered up above, to the stars, where he said he always watched you from. Maybe he would take you with him one day. If what he was rambling into your skin had the slightest bit of sincerity to it.

#greek mythology #greek gods #greek gods x reader #greek mythology x reader #apollo x reader #apollo x you #apollo #hermes x you #hermes fluff #hermes x reader #ares x you #ares x reader #ares #hermes #dionysus #dionysus x reader #apollo x mortal reader

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