#whose ass do we need to kick

[sleepyside]

Another thing that haunts me about this entire thing is that Amanda wasn’t just funny like her coworkers, or funny like other Disney and Nickelodeon actresses. Amanda Bynes was funny like Carol Burnett. Funny like Lucille Ball. She was effervescent and classic. Her comedic sensibilities were deeply intelligent. She had *it*. And she should have grown into one of the best actresses of our generation. But *something* happened and derailed it all. Even if she’s not the same, I truly hope she’s well and happy. I want nothing but the best for her, even if it’s a quiet and private life. I adored her back then and always will.

[the-acid-pear]

Every time I think about Jevil from a more serious standpoint recognizing how sad the shit going on there is I want to rip my head bald.

[minnie-movs]

“She’s my type! (homicidal)”

synopsis. deadpool!gojo pushes you till you break (him)

content warnings. semi-proofread, fem!reader, gojo’s annoying, blowjobs in an alley, oral f!receiving, car sex, hate-fucking(?), she hates him and he loves that, cumming early, dirty talk, cowgirl, gojo whines gojo whimpers gojo cums, seriously he cums a concerning amount of times, overstimming gojo, dumbification (him), lots of male crying, he calls reader mommy, threats of murder/killing, descriptions of intended violence

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Deadpool!Gojo is the bane of your existence, constantly annoying you with his smartass jabs, perverted comments, and terrible jokes.

Deadpool!Gojo hears the words “Fuck off, Gojo” at least 7 times daily from any given person, especially you. 

Deadpool!Gojo turns off Infinity around you. He wants to feel your touch even if it’s just a shoulder graze or a punch to the face (the latter is a daily occurrence).

Deadpool!Gojo punches the air in triumph when he finds out he’s been assigned a mission with you, sprinting through the halls of the X Mansion straight to your room and bursting in.

“Heyyyyy, partner,” he sings as he skips into the room and over to your bed, flopping down on it like a child, “Ready to fuck up some bad guys?” 

You groan, like you’d been doing a lot that day, ever since you found out the Infinity-wielding pain in the ass would be your mission partner. “Just my luck. Fuck me,” you mutter, packing your gear.

Lying on his stomach, he props his face in his palms, feet kicking in the air, “Oh, trust me, pumpkin. I’ve been trying. But let’s save that for after the mission, hm?” Even through his mask, you could practically hear his annoying smirk. 

“Although since you brought it up,” he continues, not letting your clear disinterest deter him, “Maybe we could sneak in a quickie before the ball-busting begins? Pre-fight sex helps me focus. Specifically, doggystyle— backshots are great for an ass-kicking mindset. Cleanses the soul. Realigns the chakras n’ all that good shit. It’s science. Look it up. P-O-R-N-H-U—”

You shoot him a venomous glare that screamed, “Shut. Up.”

He immediately holds up his hands in mock surrender, chuckling sheepishly, “Or don’t. You’re right, saving it for after is smarter. Sort of a celebratory homecoming. Speaking of cumming—“ 

Your fist cuts that comment short, meeting his face with a satisfying crack!

Deadpool!Gojo stares unabashedly at your ass while scaling the side of a building, even throwing in an “awooga,” much to your disgust. 

Deadpool!Gojo doesn’t let a time-sensitive situation like you defusing a bomb stop his sardonic commentary. 

The room is silent, save for the periodic beeping of the contraption in front of you. You sit hunched over the deadly-looking device, sweat creeping on your brow, trembling fingers clutching the wire-cutter, “Red or blue?”

The white-haired mercenary lounges nearby, doing nothing to help, “You ever think about how turtles could be doing more for this country?” 

“Red or blue wire, Gojo.” 

“I mean, they come with their own armor! But those weird little fuckers just choose to chill in a lake all day.” 

“I swear to god—“ 

“Imagine the damage you could do if you chucked one of ‘em at the enemy’s head, shell first.”

You grit your teeth, “They’d die. Just tell me the color.” 

“The enemy or the turtle?” He shrugs, “Eh, doesn’t matter. Point is, we underestimate those green snails. Didn’t one of them paint the Sixteenth Chapel?” 

“It’s Sistine, and that was Michelangelo.” 

“Exactly.”

Your jaw muscles tense with barely-restrained frustration. You open your mouth to retort before you decided the device, whose timer had jumped from three minutes to one, needed your attention more.

“Here, let me help—“ he starts.

“You can help by shutting the fuck up.“ 

“Ooh, someone’s cranky. Is it the bomb? It’s the bomb, isn’t it?” 

“It’s you, actually,” you hiss, jittery hands held over the red wire. 

He throws a hand over his chest and mock-gasps, “I resent that! I’m plenty helpful—”

You whip around, grabbing his collar and slamming him into the nearby wall, the wire-cutter now hovering dangerously over his crotch. You let it close slightly, the metal jaws just barely touching him, eliciting a low moan from him— half from pain, half from something else. 

A low, menacing growl leaves your mouth, tone dripping with threat, “One more word and you lose a testicle.”

“…hot.” 

And then you punched him in the face again. 

(You do end up defusing the bomb, with seconds to spare at that, no thanks to him.)

Deadpool!Gojo compromises your stealth when he leans against a very obvious “CALL SECURITY” button.

Alarms blare, red lights flash, and within seconds, a swarm of armed men flood the room. 

He rubs the back of his neck with a sheepish look, “Oops…? Hehe.”

Fucking idiot. You contemplate feeding him to the enemy. 

Deadpool!Gojo relies on his katanas and martial arts more than Infinity or other powers in battle—purely to impress you. He swings dramatically, flips unnecessarily, flexing his “raw skills.” It’s like he’s performing rather than fighting. 

Mid-battle, covered in blood (not his), he frantically waved at you, “Y/N! Did ya see the finishing move I pulled on that guy? Fuckin’ sick, huh?!” 

You do not respond. He pouts. 

Deadpool!Gojo wolf-whistles when he sees you nail a villain with a kick to the nuts.

“Ngh- oh yeah, me next.” he likes CBT for sure

You nearly drop your weapon, “What in the fuck—“

Deadpool!Gojo takes the time for a dance break, mid-fight. 

“I’m Every Woman” blares through the speaker system— when the hell did he get control of the comms— as he full-on belts the song, complete with hair flips and hip swings. (songs also on that playlist: tell it to my heart by t. dayne, wannabe by spice girls, 10 minutes by lee hyori, baby one more time by b. spears, love don’t cost a thing by j. lopez) 

You seethe, yelling from a far corner as you take down another guard, “GOJO, TURN THAT SHIT OFF OR SO HELP ME, I WILL RIP OFF YOUR DICK AND FEED IT TO YOU!”

He loudly moans from under his mask, “Hngh- oh yeah, keep talking about my dick, babe— I’m nearly there—”

Deadpool!Gojo is smug as hell after knocking out a final thug that had you in a headlock.

He drawls, self-satisfied, and points finger guns at you, “You’re welcome. I’ll take my thank you blowjob now.” To which you give him a murderous scowl.

Deadpool!Gojo makes it so you both have to abort the mission to escape. Turns out pressing a “CALL SECURITY” button brings, well, security. A fuck ton of it. 

“If we survive this… pant… I’m strangling you with your own mask,” you snarled, sprinting alongside him, dodging bullets and hellfire.

“Aw, babe, you’re so cute when you wanna kill me,” he pulls up his mask to flash you a grin.

You punch him a third time, mid-run.

At Sister Margaret’s, Deadpool!Gojo watches you dejectedly explain to the team how you fled enemy territory empty-handed. 

Deadpool!Gojo then pulls the very item you were after out of nowhere, revealing dramatically that he’d pocketed it when you were busy fighting. (vague ass mission, pretend “item” is sumn important pls)

He doesn’t miss your fuming face in the crowd— but pretends to.

Should he have said something to spare you the frustration? Probably.

Was his way more fun? Definitely.

Deadpool!Gojo has an innocent look but is internally giggling he’s dragged him by the collar to the alley behind the bar.

“Woah, easy with the threads, sugarplum. This stuff’s custom-made.” 

“You absolute pain in my ass,” you growl, yanking his mask off to reveal his annoyingly attractive face.

His piercing blues glinted with mischief, a smirk playing at his lips, “Oh, sweetheart. if you wanted me in your ass, you could’ve just asked—“

“You had the artifact THE WHOLE TIME?!” 

“Oh! Great twist, right? Did you see their faces? They were all ‘omg gojo! gojo’s so smart and cool, we love him! he deserves several blowjobs as thank you! and I volunteer to be first! no, I volunteer. no I voluntee—‘“ 

“SHUT. UP! You made me think we FAILED, asshole! You humiliated me in front of everyone, you insufferable, selfish, reckless, piece of—“ 

“Oh sweet, I love a good hate-fuck prelude.” 

You surge forward, crashing your lips against his, effectively silencing whatever bullshit would leave his mouth next. 

Deadpool!Gojo is speechless when he suddenly finds you on your knees, his cock halfway down your throat, and has to physically fight from cumming too quickly—your loud, wet sucks and gags not helping the fight at all. 

Deadpool!Gojo has extreeemely sensitive balls and is a congenital yapper. Not a good combo for when the person sucking his dick is also someone who thinks of ripping out his larynx every time he opens his mouth.

He groans, letting his head fall back against the brick wall, fingers fisting in your hair for support. True to his nature, he tries and fails to keep composure with sarcastic quips, “Ah, there’s my thank you blowjob. Cuz’ I was beginning to wonder— ngh!” 

He doubles over with a choked gasp, his cock jerking in your mouth when he feels your teeth graze the sensitive vein along the underside—deliberate and warning. The message in your eyes was crystal clear: Shut up or I will bite.

And he wisely obliged. For about ten seconds before—

“If you’re hah- trying to get me to ngh- apologize for the mission, you sure picked a��hnghh- h-hell of a way, babe. s-shit- i did technically save your ass, y’know- oh wait no- not the balls- they’re sensitive- seriously, anything but the balls- wait wait don’t— fuck! shit! fuckshitfuckshitfuuuuuuckkkkk!”

He spills down your throat embarrassingly fast, his chest heaving, throat catching on a half-choked moan, “Ah- hah- t-t-told you- *cough*—“ 

But it’s fine because the sight of you gulping down every drop of his cum has him immediately hard again.

Deadpool!Gojo eats you out like a man starved— on his knees in the back of your Honda Odyssey, of all places.

Not that he’s complaining. He’s quite happy to be suffocating between your thighs, his nose buried deep in your pussy folds, licking and slurping like it’s his last meal. (mf the type to go “nom nom” or “gobble gobble” or sum shit while eating kitty)

The most pathetic whimpers and mewls leave him as he aches to touch his cock, which is dripping leaky faucet, globules of precum bubbling at the tip, but he can’t— courtesy of you tying his hands behind his back. 

He’s also a messy eater, slobbering and drooling all over your clit like a rabid animal. At one point, he tries to motorboat your pussy, the man is unhinged.

And somehow, even with a mouth full of pussy, he’s still.

fucking.

talking.

“Mmh- fuck you taste so sweet- *lick* pussy’s so delicious- *suck* could eat you all night- mmmh- shit you gettin’ close? yeah yeah cum for me, baby- cum on my tongue, pretty please? squirt all over my face with this pretty lil cunny- mmh pleas—“

You cringe. Christ, his dirty talk sucks. You’ll have to fix that for next time—

Next time? Why the hell were you thinking of a next time? 

On the brink of orgasm, you tighten your grip in his hair, yanking hard enough to make him groan, “God- ngh- do you ever stop talking?”

In frustration, you forcefully buck into his mouth, hoping to shut him up. Jokes on you though. That just made him cum. 

Hands-free.

Just from eating you out.

He shudders, a choked moan ripping from his throat as hot, thick ropes of cum shoot out onto the backseat carpet.

He doesn’t let up, however, making sure to take you over the edge with him, tongue-fucking you through your high and his own. Your gasps and moans are sweet music to his ears, your clit pulsing against his tongue as you drench his face.

And still, he doesn’t stop. He slurps up your juices, his tongue invading every crevice of your cunt, greedy for every last saccharine drop.

God, he fucking loves your pussy. 

Deadpool!Gojo cries and whines like a bitch while you ride him into oblivion. 

His blue eyes are locked onto your bouncing tits, pupils blown wide in awe. He’s drooling, hands roaming aimlessly—gripping your love handles, palming your ass, cupping your breasts—unable to decide where to settle.

God, he wishes he had more hands.

Your pussy is heaven to him. Hot, wet walls squeeze his cock like they were made to ruin him. It’s so good, so unbelievably good, his vision blurs with tears.

You’re so fucking beautiful. 

So so so beautiful… 

THWOP! 

And so fucking cruel. 

THWOP! 

You slam down on his cock with a cruel force, the skin of your ass slapping against his thighs. 

THWOP! THWOP! 

The lewd schlick-schlick’s of your pussy swallowing him echoes in his ears, mingling with his breathless, broken moans. 

He’d be well past his fifth orgasm by now—if you weren’t such a sadistic, heartless bitch who hates happiness.

…his words.

Because for the past hour or so, you’ve been fucking him like his dick owes you money, always stopping right as he’s about to cum. 

Like right now.

You hover over his swollen tip, eyeing him smugly. He’s a mess. Flushed cheeks, damp lashes, glassy azure eyes pleading up at you.

Oh, but the real sight is what’s below— his cock twitches desperately, every individual vein begging for friction. His balls? Overloaded. Heavy. Drawn tight. Concerningly big. How the fuck does he still have cum left to give? 

Gojo swears you hold his life in your hands. If you didn’t let him cum right now, he’s pretty sure he’ll die. 

Pride shattered and dignity obliterated, he wails, voice cracking, “Hnghhh- fuck- OKAY! ALRIGHT! I’M SORRY! I’m sorry about the artifact! I thought you’d think it was cool—I was wrong! I’m sorry for humiliating you, I’m sorry I’m a dumb fucking cock-for-brains idiot who only thinks with his dick— IMSORRYIMSORRYIMSORRYIMFUCKINGSORRYYYY!!!”  

His hips desperately rut upward, chasing the last bit of movement he needs to finally, finally cum. “Now please! Let me cum! I need to cum! I NEED TO CUM! PLEASE LET ME CUM! PLEASE, MOMMYYYY!” 

You paused. 

…did he just say Mommy?

Oh, he is gone. 

You mentally file this moment away— prime blackmail material for the next time he gets smart with you.

For now, you’re content. You got what you wanted: an apology from the Merc with a Mouth and the pleasure of watching him fall apart. 

A Cheshire grin curling your lips, you give a single, permitting nod—then slam down onto his cock, hard. 

Gojo damn near ascends. 

Deadpool!Gojo moans like a girl when he cums in the loudest, sluttiest, most pornographic way.

His eyes roll back, mouth falling open. His entire body convulses, back arching off the car seat, muscles locking up as the orgasm annihilates him.

He cums harder than he ever had, the air ripping from his lungs as he shoots his creamiest load yet. His cock pulses with every desperate burst of sticky, gooey seed—your gummy pink walls now sprayed white. His abs flex violently, spent, while your greedy pussy yanks him deeper, intent on milking him dry. 

And then, the worst thing happens.

You keep moving.

Deadpool!Gojo pleads with you to stop fucking him, fully sobbing through the overstimulation.  

It’s too much. His nerves are fried, he’s slowly going stupid. Hell, he just might be already. His cock is helplessly quivering inside you and his whole body’s shaking. Pearly tears slip down his cheeks as he begs you to stop moving on his cock. 

“P-please—please! t-there’s n-nothing l-left! i c-can’t c-cum a-anymore! i-i’m f-fucking e-empty! i’m fucking shooting blanks! i-i’m begging, please don’t m-make me c-cum again! I’ll break- I’LL BREAKKKKK!!” 

He chokes on a sob before his cock pitifully spurts out another empty load. 

Having had your fill of his miserable begging, you generously oblige. You dismount, lazily glancing back at the wonderful mess you made. 

Deadpool!Gojo is left ruined, utterly destroyed after you’re done with him.

His head lolls to the side, tongue hanging out, drooling as he stares at nothing. His limbs shudder weakly, his cock now soft and limp, still giving the occasional pathetic shiver.

A stupid, cum-drunk grin stretches across his face as he meaninglessly babbles like an idiot, “c-cum… c-came… s’ m-much… ah… can’t f-feel my d-dick… love it… t-thank you…“  

Gone is the bravado of the cocky, sharp-mouthed antihero. 

Lying there, wrecked beneath you, is your broken little bitch—Satoru Gojo aka Deadpool. 

a/n. women bullying men during sex>>> originally wrote this with hawks from mha in mind then realized he n gojo are the same person in different fonts. it was tough writing this tbh cuz i had to balance both personalities. i still think he ended up more gojo than dp anyway sighhh. i hope people like it and if you don’t, that’s ok but please be kind :) 

[inbabylontheywept]

Kartchner Caverns

The first time I traveled to Tucson I was in a car full of zooted children. I would've preferred being one of those children, but alas, any medication that makes me sleep also makes me sleepwalk. And after an incident where I tried to climb out of the car while it was still going sixty (thank God for seatbelts), I was condemned to a childhood of car trip sobriety: No more poor-man's time travel. No more ambien. One less morally ambiguawesome parenting decision from my crazy-ass dad.

I was talking with him when it happened.

I can't remember exactly what we were talking about - something to do with our final destination in Mexico. But at some point, we woke up my little brother. 

(Nothing good happens from waking the dreamer. Best case scenario, the dream ends. Worst case, it doesn't.)

I remember starting when I felt one of his small cold hands reach up to grab my shoulder. Our dad did the same, and it jerked the car a little bit - startling someone whose hands are on the steering wheel has its risks. Dad and I both turned to look at him, but he wasn't even looking at us. He was leaning over the console, staring into the red and purple sunset ahead, watching the rolling skyline of Tucson like it was drowning in dreams. Like he was drowning in dreams. 

We waited for him to speak. It took a while. Normal social conventions don't apply to people when they're unconscious. The fact that he could talk was just some broken line code in the fabric of the world. 

"Wow," he said at long last. 

"Beautiful, isn't it?" my dad replied. And my little brother shook his head like he just heard the silliest thing in the world. 

"It's terrible," he said. "Awful. Is Mexico always like this?" 

"We're still in America," my dad said back. 

My little brother squinted into the sunset, doubt and derision etched into his face. After a few seconds, both emotions softened, and he nodded in wonder. 

"Eagle feathers," he said, chuckling softly. Like he'd just solved some clever little riddle. Then he fell like an angel into something deeper than sleep. 

𓆙𓆙𓆙

(There is a word for angels that fall.)

𓆙𓆙𓆙

The second time I went to Tucson, I hid from the sun. 

You'd be surprised how easy it is to do down there. Society accommodates it in ways you just won't find anywhere else. When it's 109 outside with single digit humidity, of course you stay indoors. Of course the outdoor markets open at 6 pm, and of course they don't close until 11. Of course. You make the sun mean enough, and everyone becomes a vampire. 

So I roamed the streets at night, kicking up red gravel, watching coyotes wander in between the sea of strip malls. Strip malls are such an Arizonan atrocity. Nobody bothers to build up because there’s nothing to be gained from density. The city will never be walkable, because the problem isn’t infrastructure. It's the sun. And you can't solve the sun, so you might as well lean into driving. Mash the whole city flat and crawl through the dust like rattlers. 

(I met a man once, by the canals, that said the strip malls were some sort of American curse upon the inheritors of Johnny Appleseed. There's one God in this world, he said, and it's the god of don't-eat-apples. But then we invented apple pie and gave it to everyone. So this is our hell.)

Still. It made the days long down there. Lurking at night and hiding all day gives you something like cabin fever. I needed something to do outside. Something that was outside, but also, somehow, inside. What's inside and outside at the same time? What kind of klein-flask ouroboros nonsense fits that bill?

Kartchner caverns. 

𓆙𓆙𓆙

I wouldn't say the caves were like walking into Dante's hell - more like finishing the journey. At some point in my life, I'd blown past limbo, lust, gluttony, greed, and anger. I'd spent two decades plus change living in the fires of heresy. Every layer past would only get colder. 

And each step into that cave did. 

My tour guide and psychopomp was a friendly old man. Familiar in the way that all old people feel familiar to me. I view the world more as a pile of metaphors. He viewed it primarily as water-soluble minerals. 

It was a good work dynamic. 

"These here," he said, gesturing to a long, slender series of impossibly frail stalactites, "are called soda straws."

They were beautiful. I can wax poetic at the keyboard, but in real life, my exclamation of wonder is primarily Hot Damn.

"Hot damn," I said, and he nodded good naturedly. 

"They're pretty fun aren't they? Took a few eons to make 'em but I think it was worth the wait."

I was charmed by the way he talked. I knew it was just a fluke of tenses, but there was something funny about the way he described them - as if he personally oversaw each of the dainty little spires. We went further, and he pointed out more formations as we came across them. 

"Behold!" he said just a few feet further. "Fried eggs!" 

And I had to admit: There were fried eggs. 

"Behold!" he said further still. "A shield!"

And lo, there was a shield. It didn't look terribly shieldlike, but who knows - maybe he made the shields first and got better as he went along. The eggs were beautiful.

We kept walking, deeper, and deeper into the cave. At the surface, it had been hot enough for my sweat to dry into a stinging white powder. Down there it was cold enough to see my breath. The feeling of descending into hell was replaced with the feeling of being swallowed by some ancient, fossilized snake. 

"We call this serpent-stone," he said, gesturing to an expanse of wall. 

And then all I could see was the snake that was swallowing me. 

Now, I want to bring something up right about now. At this point, you might be tempted to write off the unease that I was feeling as claustrophobia. Which would make sense - caves unsettle a lot of people. But not me. I'm borderline claustrophilic. When I was a child, I didn't feel comfortable reading until I was wedged somewhere. Behind a shelf, or in a cabinet, or even underneath the beanbag my parents had intended for sitting. Those were my happy places. I liked being crammed into tight spaces. 

I did not like that cave. 

The section of serpent-stone narrowed the further we went. The room started off maybe six feet wide, but eventually it narrowed down. First to five, then four, then three. Two. And it didn’t stop at one. 

The old man put me in front at that point. Said that if I got stuck, he could just push me forward. Didn't occur to me until I'd gone another hundred feet forward, sideways, that maybe getting dragged out would be better. But I was strangely reluctant to bring it up. I’d already let myself get cornered. There was nothing to be gained from letting him know my thoughts. 

But the only way to keep them secret was by going forward. So I poured myself through the crack, slick as slip.  

There's a grain to the scales of serpent-stone, both in the shape of the formations and in the texture of the individual pieces. They're metamorphic, but there's enough sediment left to ‘em that they have a grain. They bite when you go one way, and slide when you go the other. It felt like I was ratcheting myself in. Even if I could slip forward more, I didn't think I could go back. Not without wearing myself down into something skinless and screaming. 

Water began to pool up in sections. It was cold enough to avoid the stink that still waters normally carry, but things stranger than algae festered in the waters beneath my feet. The puddles felt thick, almost slimy. A dozen steps later I saw little ropes of the stuff trickling down my feet. 

Eventually, it got so narrow I couldn't turn my head. I could still hear the old man behind me, but only through little things - the occasional sharp inhale, or steps just an eighth of a beat off from my own. But never words. I remember stopping at one point, just to get pushed, just to know he was there. And he refused. All I heard for fifteen minutes was his breathing behind me. 

He'd called my bluff. There was nowhere to go but forward. 

𓆙𓆙𓆙

I don't know why it took so long to get dark down there. I wasn't carrying a flashlight, and if the old man had been carrying one, I'd have seen it bob with his steps. There was a sort of soft glow to everything but that had faded hour by hour. Eventually it didn't matter that I couldn't turn my head sideways - I wouldn't have been able to see the man if he'd been two inches in front of me. I walked, and I walked, and I walked, and just when I was about to get stuck for real - stuck in a way where I wouldn't be able to step forward, where I'd have to be pushed (or dragged back along the sharpness of the scales) - I popped out of the serpent stone crevasse like a cork from a bottle. 

Plunk. 

I can't tell you the relief that I felt at that moment. It didn't matter that I didn't know where I was, or how I got there. I'd never been claustrophobic in my life, but at that moment, I couldn't stand even the proximity of the crevice. I scrambled forward, stumbling over the rough cave floor, desperate and eager to find the next wall. To get some sense of where I was. 

I never did. Even as I calmed down, even as the relief of being free of that infernal vice sat upon me like a crown, I never found another wall. Anywhere. I walked until fear made me crawl, as low and blind as any worm. I crawled until my pants tore and my knees bled and my spine ached. 

And I found nothing. 

When the vastness of the space truly sank in, when I realized that leaving that first wall had been a mistake, I turned back. But some choices can't be unmade. There were no walls. Not anymore. No matter how far I crawled, how hard I tried, there was no end. There was nothing but perfect darkness, broken stone, and endless snaking trickles of cold cavern water. 

I dipped a finger in one of the rivulets. Just to feel it. Just to ground myself in something. I felt the waters slither past, and I found something like sight in their motion. 

Water always goes down. Whatever else I lacked down here in the stone, in that moment, I knew up and down. And for the first time in hours, I had a choice. A real choice. No instinct or panic or too late realizations: Up or down. 

I went down. 

𓆙𓆙𓆙

I’d visited a rope factory once. Watched the threads dance and spin and weave into something mighty. I got a blind man’s sense of that from my trickle. I felt it meet more of its kind, braiding into them like thread. I liked pretending it was still my rivulet, but eventually, I had to admit it was lost in the mess. Picking out one thread from a rope would be easy, compared to picking out one trickle from a river. 

Funny how water can drown in itself. 

The first contaminant to the water was iron. I could smell it in the air -  strong as blood. It should have unsettled me, but I’d smelled water like that before. My grandpas well-water stained everything it touched rusty red. His sinks, his showers, his fields. Even his teeth. He was wealthy enough that he could've wiped the stains off decades back, but he told me once that he liked the way it made other people uncomfortable. The way it reminded everyone who saw him smile that by sacrament or soil, they too drank of god. 

The next contaminant was the thick water from before. Apparently, the stagnant pools weren’t as still as I’d thought. Somehow, over strange eons, they too could seep through the stone and make their way into this deep river. It was scentless, but I could feel it catch around my ankles on some steps. It seemed like a memory from a different life. I just didn’t feel like the same person that crawled through the serpent-stone crack. I was just some stranger wearing his shed skin. 

Then at long last came a smell of deep sulphur 🜏. It was an odd contrast with the sharply cold air, and the strangely warm waters. It was the least pleasant of the bunch, but I endured it well. I followed until the tears streaming down my cheeks felt as normal as breathing. Until the rush of the river was replaced by the pounding of waves. 

I’d arrived on a beach. I couldn’t see the ocean in front of me, but I could hear how vast it had to be. There was a terrible stench, worse than the sulphur - the smell of some vast death. Godly carrion. A wound in the world long left to fester. 

I sat there on the beach of that ocean. Afraid to let those dark waters touch me. Thinking and waiting and worrying about what would happen next. 

A voice spoke just twenty feet behind me. I recognized it. I never would’ve recognized it before, but there was a knack to the way this place wore me thin. Like a razor getting sharpened instead of a shirt going ratty. 

“You’re very close,” the old man said, and I remembered him from all those years ago - sitting cross-legged in the moonlight by the bank of the canal. Looking up at me, eyes dark, and calling me over to tell me a secret. 

There's one God in this world, he said then. One God. And it's the god of don't-eat-apples. But then we invented apple pie and gave it to everyone. 

So this is our hell.

𓆙𓆙𓆙

I turned around. I don’t know why. I shouldn’t have been able to see him. I shouldn’t have been able to see anything. But I could see the outline of where he was on that shoreline. Not as a  bright thing, but as a darker shade of absence. A little hole in the dark. 

I could have run. But that would’ve required taking my eyes off him, and at that moment I couldn’t bear the thought. He was the only thing to see down there. The only reason I had eyes. But somehow, more important than the joy of seeing was the feeling that as long as I kept my eyes on him, he was trapped. Pinned to this world like a butterfly on cork. 

There was a half second pause. The voice was a memory, but seeing through the gaps was new to me. The thing in front of me wasn’t an old man. It wasn’t even good at pretending. I was oddly embarrassed that I’d ever been fooled by it. What I was looking at was something older than this cave. Something trapped down here so long it could not bear the thought of light. The dream of something dead. The sloughed skin of a snake. 

The first apple eater. 

I could see shades of absence. More than the hole in the dark. I could look at the thing and feel the place where its wings should have been. Its first ones, at least. 

It lunged for me. 

I’d forgotten it could do that. 

It slammed into me like the water from the bottom of a dam. The power was nothing compared to the cold. I couldn’t see a thing, but what I could feel made bile climb up my throat. 

It was melting. Running down itself in little streams, like snow melting in the sun. Like the river I followed all the way down here. A hand ran over my face and I could feel it pouring into me, and in my fury I did the only thing I could think of: I reached up, and I wrapped my hands around its neck, and I clenched so hard that I could feel the tendons in my wrist sawing up through my skin, taut as piano wire. 

It was like squeezing wet clay. It deformed under my touch, stretching longer and thinner and smoother even as the muscular length of his impossibly long body wrapped around me. At some point the fists beating on my chest turned into wings. Stolen wings, to replace the ones that were stolen from it, and there was a scream in the cave it was so awful that I prayed it wasn’t mine. 

It was a terrible race. We were killing each other the same way. There was no question about someone dying here in front of the empty throne of god. I just didn’t want it to be me. 

Eventually, it could stretch no more, and my hands could crush more than just nightmare and shadow. The wings beat on me weaker, and weaker, until eventually some cartilage in its great neck snapped under the pressure of my thumbs.

It was like cracking a glow stick. There was a flash of light, brief as thunder, and I could see the waves in front of me. An ocean of rotting meat and bones. The outline of some great, dead serpent, fifty feet tall. And a tower of dead bodies, stretching back to ages that I could not recognize. The only corpses I could recognize were those at the top, with their strange helmets and iconic breastplates. 

Conquistadors. 

When the light went out, the body went with it. Most dreams don’t leave anything behind. Even when they’re made by gods. 

𓆙𓆙𓆙

I don’t know how I left the cave. 

I followed the river up. At some point, it stopped being the river I followed down. The tributaries feeding into it spread out like a fan, and fool that I am, I kept picking left. It shouldn’t have worked. Part of me wonders if I somehow bent the river to my will. Filled in for the dead thing bobbing in the lake, or the echo that I strangled on that starless shore. 

Or maybe I just got lucky. 

I can remember finally breaching the incline and seeing an exit into the desert. Not the one I stepped in through, but good enough. I can remember getting closer and closer, before stepping out into the burning sun. I thought it was finally over.

I thought wrong.  

I can remember looking into the bright blue sky and seeing exactly what my little brother saw on that drive all those years back. 

I don’t know what I killed down in the cave. Some dead thing in the dark, dreaming it was alive. An altar of blood and bone, designed to hold a fragment. 

But the real thing sat there in the sky. Curled up so tight and so smooth, you could mistake it for a ball. Waiting, and watching, and hating. Alive but dreaming death. The mould that stamped out the form of what lay in the cave. 

Quetzalcoatl, I learned later. The feathered serpent. 

I moved the month after that. Went somewhere north, somewhere cold, somewhere that a snake wouldn’t follow. Most days now, I look up, and I just see the sun. A flaming ball of gas. A little, red, star. 

But only most.

𓆙𓆙𓆙

𓆙𓆙𓆙

𓆙𓆙𓆙

𓆙𓆙𓆙

𓆙𓆙𓆙 𓇳

Thanks to @qsatisfaction and @foldingfittedsheets for being my editors on this piece. And thanks to @dr-robert-chase-apologist for providing the prompt.

[sxcretricciardo]

I’m back…

social media au

-> you and Lando have a past that it’s quite complicated… what happens when you go up to Formula 1 to race against him?

•

f1 Y/N Y/L/N is joining Aston Martin for the 2024 season.

view more comments

astonmartinf1 welcome to our team yourusername!

-> yourusername let’s make magic together 🫰🏻

username1 omg she and Lando on the same paddock????

-> username2 what’s the lore??? I’m unaware

-> username3 apparently they were dating back in f3 and he cheated on her and the guys all called her a dramatic b*tch. She crashed the next race, probably from all the bullying and pressure and was out for a whole year.

-> username2 wowww I hope she kicks his ass next season 💅

fernandoalo_oficial welcome teammate! yourusername

-> yourusername thank u nando! I’m fangirling rn <3

alex_albon missed you bestie

-> yourusername missed you albonooo 😚

•

yourusername helloooo Australia!! 🇦🇺 I was so happy to answer your questions today, now let’s get racin 🏁

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username1 girl you were SOO funny!! Loved it 🫶🏻

-> username2 she’s adorable

-> username3 let’s hope she can race too

danielricciardo you’re stealing my thunder on my own home country 🥹

-> yourusername hang in there cowboy 🤠

-> oscarpiastri OUR home country danielricciardo

•

astonmartin our girl just made p4 in her first f1 race! 😍

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fernandoalo_oficial p5 just felt more special with you in front of me! what a way to start our season 😜

alex_albon way to go!!

username1 the fact that she gave Lando the finger after passing him HAHA

-> username2 ICONIC

landonorris 🥱

-> username3 Lando is TRIGGERED

-> username4 omg we’re just starting the season and there’s already dramaaaa

•

f1gossip Aston Martin driver Y/N Y/L/N gave Lando Norris the finger after overtaking him. Note that in their F3 season Y/N was out of action for a year after Lando cheated on her and rumor has it the hole paddock was also bullying her. Is she having her revenge?

•

yourusername just posted a story

•

real life

Y/N was sitting in the coffee area inside the Aston Martin headquarters when Fernando slowly approaches her.

“Can I sit?” He asks, pointing to the empty chair that’s in front of the young driver.

She looks up from her coffee and nods with her head, to busy drinking her much needed caffeine to let words out.

“Just saw what you posted in Instagram.” He says, talking about the video where she tries to clean the air after she gave the finger in live race.

“Yeah, just wanted to kinda explain myself after what happened.” She says.

“What exactly happened between you two?” He asks.

Y/N looks at him. She knows she can trust him, despite really knowing him for just a couple of months. He’s like the father she never had. Always having her back and giving her the best advices.

“We were teenagers. Stupid kids. I was in love, he apparently wasn’t. One day we were just chilling together when his phone starts getting texts. He brushes it off, saying it’s just a friend and when he falls asleep I go through his phone. They weren’t just friends. There were thousands of texts for months between the two. He lied to me… I just wanted him to be honest and he straight lied to me! We had a race the next weekend and I was able to brush the situation off, because when I enter the track I forget about the outside world. But when I enter the paddock, the guys just start shoving me and stuff like that. Me being the only girl was not easy in any way but I managed it the best I could. Then, I don’t know… I just loose the control of the car and the next thing I know I’m into a wall. I don’t even know how it happened, I can’t even remember. I just remember having this tremendous amount of pain in my leg. After two surgeries and a lot of recovery and rehab I was back in that car.”

Fernando just looks at the young woman, whose eyes have unshed tears.

“If you ask me if I hold a grudge towards him, yes, I really do. He never apologized, never spoke to me again. But that’s what keeps me going. This fire I feel inside of me is what brought me here to formula 1.”

•

part 2 here

[emmyc0z]

thanos! x reader x namgyu! headcannons

pairing : thanos! x reader x namgyu!

cw : blood, drugs

a/n : just something short to appease myself. what started off as a crush on thanos is quickly evolving more towards namgyu and i can’t stop it.

They find themselves interested in you because you so easily agree to stay in the games with them. You need the money and they’re offering you protection and extra food in return for your vote. What’s there to lose?

The two of them never let you out of your sight. You’ve gotta be by at least one of their sides at all times, or else they can’t sit still. They can’t focus because what if you’re hurt, or being harassed, or what if you were attacked and they weren’t there to stop it.

Even if they’re both high as a kite, they’re so focused on your safety that you have to gently remind them that they have to look out for themselves as well.

It’s the type of situation where a sleazy comment is thrown your way and their emotions are so heightened from the drugs that the words don’t even register to you before punches are being thrown at the culprit.

This ends up with them, most likely, bruised and bloodied (001 kicked their asses like cmon) but you shower them with your praise and thank you’s so they don’t really mind.

They’d even let you clean them up. Wiping the blood, whether it’s theirs or someone else’s is a mystery, away from their skin with your pretty fingers. Wincing as your fingers brush over a particularly sensitive bruise, but it pleases you to dote so they don’t complain.

Namgyu would probably feign annoyance as you brush his hair out of his face to get a closer look at the swelling of his reddened cheekbone. But his fingers would play with the fabric of your sweatpants at the side of your legs, tugging if you moved more than an inch away.

Thanos definitely is the type to push your hands away feeling like a kid whose mom is trying to wipe his face in front of his friends, cursing under his breath as you verbalize your concern. But he makes no real effort to move your body away from its standing position between his legs. Eventually he’d stop swatting, only staring up at you with a stubborn look and wide pupils.

If a fight broke out, whether it was in the bathroom or in the sleeping area, they’d crowd you. They’re never not by your side so you don’t have to be worried about being caught off guard. And while they want to fight, they’ve silently agreed to put this urge aside in order to keep you safe.

Namgyu would be so touchy with you. I mean we seen the way he acts in the show, right?

His hands are on you 24/7. Rubbing your shoulders, fingers threading through your hair, palms tapping on your arms. And hand interlinked with yours whenever the opportunity arises.

And while Thanos may not be clingy in a physical way he still finds a way to be defined as such.

He’s never further than a foot from you. Sitting directly beside you with his knee bumping against yours as he dances to a song no one else can hear, standing behind you close enough that you feel the movement of his hands as he speaks, his shoulder touching yours and fingers brushing against your hand hanging by your hip.

At night the two of them would sleep on the empty beds on either side of you. I mean, it would start that way at least. But it’s cold and they get lonely so the night ends with the three of you pressed closely together on a single bed.

Purple hair tickles your face as a cold, skinny-fingered hand slithers its way up your shirt. And another hand, Namgyu’s free one since he already has one playing with your hair, settles on your pelvis under the waistband of your green sweatpants. They swear they do it just because their hands are cold, and no other reason..

And while you’re happy they aren’t cold anymore, you now have to deal with the sweltering heat of their bodies pressed to yours and their humid breath dampening the skin on your neck. But it’s worth it to seem them calm and quiet as they sleep peacefully.

[love44lew]

just like him . max verstappen

彡driver max verstappen

彡genre drunk!max verstappen x gn!reader, angst to fluff

彡summary max comes home drunk after a long night of partying and celebrating another wdc

၊၊||၊ this story has been haunting me for weeks now and im always busy with school or just dont have motivation to write but im glad to finally get the last of it on this sunday evening. enjoy and ty for reading!! ၊၊||၊

彡warnings alcohol, mentions of child abuse

———————————🦈———————————

max stumbles into the door after too damn long trying to get that stupid lock. why was the damn door locked anyway? he roughly plops down on the floor, kicking his shoes off and tossing them to the side without any second thought about them. he’s woozy and his head feels like its full of water and he can barely stand up straight—it was a long night of drinking and celebrating securing the drivers championship.

you would’ve went, but you weren’t feeling too well and even though max had insisted to stay home with you, you refused to let him miss out on celebrating such an achievement; hesitantly he went.

after a long 3 hours of drinking, dancing, partying him and his father had a long talk. a deep one, about his childhood. once again he’d taken credit for max’s achievements, once again telling max he should be grateful for the years of ‘tough parenting’. still the same stupid ass excuse he had to brag about how beating your kids made them world champions, what a way to ruin a night.

max stumbled into the kitchen, the house being left dimly lit since you’d expected him to come home late.

his head—the pounding became unbearable. ever since that talk with him the effects of the alcohol we’re hitting him harder then they should’ve for the amount he drank. he wasn’t drugged, was he? maybe his fathers words is what drugged him—but instead of sending him into a high, they sent him into a deep dysphoria.

he bent over, resting his temple on the cold marble of the island—the sensation easing his dizziness.

water, he needs water. but he couldn’t move from the position he was now.

“max..?” you called from up the stairs.

he just groaned in response

you smiled to yourself as you scurried down the stairs, knowing how he gets when he’s drunk. you were feeling much better than you were before, after throwing up and taking a nap, of course. “maxie,” the nickname rolled sweetly off your tongue, your tone much more comforting and soft. you turned the corner, spotting his tall figure hunched over the countertop his leg bouncing uncontrollably.

“hey, lets get you upstairs, hm?” you rubbed circles on his back as you picked up his arm and swung it over your shoulders. he’s heavy to say the least, so it wasn’t easy getting him up.

“y/n” max mumbled, stopping you at the base of the steps and using your shoulders to help him sit on them.

“yes max”

in your head, you celebrated being able to rest your shoulders for a couple minutes before helping him upstairs

“can you just be honest with me for one second here” his voice was hoarse and low, he could barely make eye contact with you. you can already understand this was a bad trip.

“always, love” your brows furrowed, his tone rising concern within you. there was a pause before he cleared his throat and his ocean blue orbs, that now appeared an almost dark grey in this lighting.

“do you think i’ll turn out like him” he almost whispered, just enough so you can hear him semi-clearly. the words stabbed you in the chest, where could he be getting these thoughts from. and whose ‘him’?

“him..?” you repeated, tilting your head to the side “max what are you talking about?”

“my dad” his eyes finally locked with yours “do you think im gonna turn out like him? what if the day comes where i would try to hurt you, if its by words or trying to put my hands on you? i never want to do that, i dont want that—thats not love. what we have, i feel this is love, but what if it wont be anymore, because of me?..” his eyes became sad, desperate and ashamed with himself, disappointed in himself for something he’s never done but the thought that he could possibly even try to hurt you makes him want to just curl up in a ball and cry.

“max-“ you reached a comforting hand out to him, just for him to reject it.

“no— i dont want to hurt you. you should go and find another guy who wouldn’t ever do that to you. im just like my fuckin dad, i even see his face in the mirror just to remind me of the doom im destined to” he hunches over, buring his face in his hands.

at this point you didnt even know what to say. you obviously are aware of the complex relationship max has with his father but he never never voiced these thoughts to you before, especially when hes drunk. hes all silly and quiet and sleepy usually, something must’ve happened to make him like this. everyone has their fears of inheriting their parents bad characteristics, max has told you about stuff he tries to do differently than him, but you never imagined it being this bad.

max is such a kind soul, he couldn’t even kill a spider. he has no reason to rage if he’s already taking all his frustrations out on track. outside the car he’s a calm dude, you’ve never heard him yell or be nasty to his engineers when he wasn’t on track. of course he has his occasional attitude towards the authority but never further than that. every time he acted out, hes worked hard to fix whatever caused him to do so.

the best thing you could do is just wait for him to finish talking so you could voice your thoughts, which you did so. you sat next to him, resting your head on his shoulder until he calmed town and flushed out all the words he had pent up in his brain. the two of you sat as his sobs filled the silence between you. saying something right away didnt feel like the right move anyway.

“you dont have to be him. youre not gonna be him because youre already better than him. max, youre still in your 20s and look all that you’ve accomplished—stuff he couldn’t dream to do in his entire life. you dont have a reason to end up like him because youre not a fuckin failure.” it might have been a little too much to talk so harshly about his dad, because its his dad. but whatever he did or said to him before he arrived home has caused the love of your life hysterical and paranoid for the future, so right now, he didn’t deserve the babying he receives from everyone around him and max. his sobs had calmed down at this point, the pause was enough for you to continue.

“and about me— i dont want anyone else. of course we’ll have our disagreements, we’ll piss each other off eventually. we’ll exchange words we dont mean and then we’ll immediately regret it after, thats just how things are. but id rather do that with you than another person because i’ll only ever want you. we’re in this together baby—and as long as i have you, theres always something to fight for because you’re worth fighting for. i made that decision the day i fell in love with you, and i never looked back since.” your heart, chest, and throat burned with every word that left your mouth. like confessing your love wasn’t hard enough the first time, here you are pouring it all out again. you keep your heart so sacred, all the world can fight for it and you’d still be stuck on that person you gave it all to. that person being max.

“i can only tell you how i feel, i cant convince you to think otherwise. but remember, i gave YOU my everything because thats the only thing i have to offer. i chose you because i see something in you that nobody else saw before, or sometimes dont even see now—“ not even your own father

“and now its my job to help you see those things within yourself.” your soft hands cupped his face so the two of you could fix on one another once again.

“just think about that”

his saddened eyes widened, like you had planted something in his mind. he melted into your touch, his eyes closing and his cheeks growing a deeper rose than before.

“i love you so much, i dont deserve you” he kissed your hands while mumbling his love for you.

“i love you too, but i disagree” you leaned in closer and kissed the bridge of his nose. he just sighed softly, he didnt feel like staring another debate on who loves who more. maybe in the morning.

max wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in closer and resting his head on your chest. you wrapped your arms around him, planting a soft kiss on the top of his head. the two of you sat in silence, enveloping in one anothers warmth. his home was right here, with you.

“im thirsty” max mumbles, breaking the silence between you two. you chuckled silently. “okay baby” you helped him stand up and up the stairs, leading him to your room. max threw himself onto the bed. you turned around to fetch some water but a tired hand tugged your wrist.

“dont go” he nuzzled into your palm, his lips brushing over your fingers. “im not going anywhere honey, im just getting water for you” max whined in protest, his face was flushed into your hand like it was his only source of warmth— tingles fluttered your heart at the sight.

“you need water, do you want to be hungover tomorrow?” you leaned on your hip and narrowed your eyes curiously.

“no i need you, now come here im cold” he pouts, tugging your hand harder causing you to fall onto the bed with a cushioned thud. before you could even react, a needy, pouty max had already latched his body onto yours tightly, nuzzling into your shoulder and allowing the scent of his lover consume his senses.

you sighed softly, the messiness of his hair and the way his arms hug your body made you not want to move. your body relaxed in his arms as max’s soft snores muffled into the cloth of your (his) sweater. you raked your fingers through his soft blonde locks until you too eventually fell into your own sleep. the two of you tangled in each other, sleeping peacefully knowing that you both will always have a shoulder to lean on.

[darnell-la]

hi, omfg you’re writing is AMAZING, i’m loving all your logan fics, you’re really talented, the depraved side of me wouldn’t rest if i didn’t ask - can we please get more of a “forced creampie” breeding kink?

𝗪𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗛𝗘'𝗦 𝗛𝗘𝗥𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥

note: Logan is very dark and pervy in this story. passiveness always gets the best of him when it comes to y/n and other boys he knows aren’t good for her.

—��—

“I don’t understand you, kid,” Logan spoke as soon as y/n slipped her shoes off. The young girl jumped at his presence, thinking he would be knocked out like he usually is at this hour.

“Logan,” y/n said low, eyes widened and heart pumping. She told Wade she wouldn’t sneak out tonight, but she did. She thought it would be easy since he was sleeping over Vanessa’s house tonight, but apparently, it wasn’t.

“Been waitin’ here for hours. You promised you’d stay in, and look at you. Dressed like that and pissy drunk,” the man said as he pushed himself off of the wall he was leaning on.

“You’re unbelievable, y/n,” the man seemed more upset than she thought he would be if he were to catch her. “I-I’m sorry — I was just out with a few friends, that’s all. Nothing bad happened tonight,” she assured the man, but he didn’t care.

“Nothin’ bad, huh? Then why do I smell him on you?” Logan asked, confusing y/n. Who was him? “Excuse me?” She asked, trying to be as polite as she could, but that all went over Logan’s head.

“Whoever you were all on tonight. I can smell him. Did he fuck you? Kiss you? Touch you?” Logan continued to ask as he got closer to Y/n’s frozen figure. She had almost forgotten about his enhanced smell.

“H-He’s just a friend, and we didn’t have sex. We only made out. M-Maybe he, uh, he touched me, but that’s all,” y/n knew she didn’t have to tell Logan or Wade anything about her life, but she was living here for free.

“And that’s why you’re all worked up now, huh? Couldn’t get you to finish?” The man asked now inches in front of her. The way his dark eyes looked down at her soft ones, send shifters d through her body.

“I-I really don’t want to talk to you about this, Logan. It’s inappropriate,” Y/n said as she moved to walk past him, but he moved in her way to stop her.

“You think you can sneak out without consequences, princess?” The tall man asked as his hands softly gripped her waist. “You think it’s fine to be all on another man, then come back to a man’s house? You think that’s respectful?”

“L-Logan, I’m sorry, okay? I just wanted to have a little bit of fun tonight,” y/n said as her hands touched both of his wrists, trying to pull him away, but he wouldn’t budge.

“Could’ve just asked me for some fun, Bub, and you know that,” the man had tightened his grip on the girl, telling her to stop her attempt to push him away, because it wasn’t happening. Especially after what she's done.

“Logan, I think I should go to bed,” y/n, the one whose mind shouldn’t be functioning right because of how much liquor she had, said.

Logan’s behavior was something she never expected. He didn’t either, but thinking about how another boy touched her, made him realize he needed to act fast.

He wanted to start off slow, maybe take her on dates and buy her gifts, but tonight was unexpected. He wasn’t going to let it go.

The strong man picked y/n off of her feet and made his way to the nearest couch. “What are you going?” Y/n asked, confused about how Logan was reacting to her sneaking out.

“Gonna make this quick and easy so you’ll understand,” Logan’s voice sounded deep to y/n as he roamed her body. She didn’t get what was happening at first until he lifted her tight dress over her ass.

“Hey!” Y/n tried to speak out, but her voice sounded low and whiny. The alcohol hadn’t kicked hard until now. Now she felt like she couldn’t speak or move.

“Can’t get all whiny when you caused this, Bub. Ain’t a good look on ya,” Logan told her as the room filled with the sound of his belt coming off and his jeans unzipping.

“L-Logan, what are you doing?” Y/n asked, upset that she was acting this way. She could scream at him, or fight to get from under him, but she chose not to. She chose to be good, and let the man do what he needed to do.

“I think you know, princess,” the man’s voice rang throughout her head as he pulled himself out, cock dropping at how heavy and painfully hard he was. He always is around her, but tonight was different. Tonight, he needed to feed it.

“C’mon, Bub, stop the whining. Seriously. Gonna get me all riled up. I’d like to last at least a few minutes,” Logan complained as he pulled y/n’s soaked panties to the side.

“Now that’s a fucking pretty site. Fuck, kid,” Logan wiped two fingers in between her folds to get a feel of the juice she had been hiding from him for so long.

“Hey you’re sweet,” the man said, and before you/n could say anything, she heard the noises of him sucking on his own fingers with a groan. “Fuckin’ is,” he confirmed before grabbing a hand full of his cock.

“L-Lo,” y/n didn’t know what to say but felt uncomfortable not saying anything. She’s basically inviting the man to use her. She didn’t know what came over her tonight, but the alcohol helped her understand how much her body wanted and needed this.

“Ssh, Bub — Gonna fill you up, then we can go to bed, mkay? I won’t even tell Wade about your silly acts,” Logan said before he pushed at her entrance, causing her hole to instantly tighten.

“C’mon, y/n — Don’t give me a hard time,” the man said as he continued pushing until he got past and through her folds. A shaky moan fell from y/n’s lips as she felt her lower stomach ache.

“So goddamn right,” Logan grunted as he pushed further to get himself all the way in her. “T-Too much — Too much!” Y/n cried out, but he kept pushing until he was fully inside of her.

Y/n could barely breathe, scared that she would hurt herself, but the way he pulled back just to slam back in, forced the breath out of her body.

“Fuck,” Logan’s hands gripped the side of her ass as he used that to move her into his rhythm. The sight of her juice coating his cock every time he slipped back into her, made his cock twitch. She was driving him crazy and had barely done anything.

“You’ve gotta stay away from those boys, baby. I don’t like you around them,” Logan spoke to the young lady like he was her father. “Don’t want me to go crazy, right? You wanna keep me calm, right?”

Logan forced Y/n’s legs a bit wider so he could push her further. Y/n reacted by lifting her upper body to endure the slight pain, but he forced her face back down onto the long part of the couch that stood up.

“Stop the fighting, Bub, this has to be done. It has too. I can’t have you out there anymore. Even Wade is worried for you. We need you safe,” Logan's pace sped up, making y/n choke on her moans.

“Too much,” y/n cried as her walls clenched around him. “Oh, but it’s not, baby. It’s just enough, and you’re gonna take more of me. So much more. You’re gonna be full,”

Those words triggered y/n’s head, slightly scaring her at the fact he could cum in her. He didn’t put a condom on. She’s just now realizing he never planned to in the first place.

“L-Logan, no — Pull out,” y/n begged the man as she tried pushing her body up and moving away from him, but he was too strong. The man pushed her face further into the couch as his other hand stayed on her ass, tightening his grip.

“P-Please, Logan,” y/n cried, hoping he’d listen, but that small part of her liked how dark he could get. He was constantly angry, and sometimes, she liked when he’d lash out at her. This was a different kind of lash-out, but that small present in her made her closer to her own orgasm.

“Nah uh — You’re gonna take it,” Logan threatened through his teeth as he pounded her. “Can’t go out half naked and come back to me, thinkin’ I’d let it slide. I’ll show you how I let things slide, kid,”

Logan lifted his right leg and planted his foot right neck to her knee that was on the seat of the couch. “Gonna show you exactly how I treat little brat like you,” a hand came down onto y/n’s ass before he began slamming down into her.

Y/n cried out, moaning loud and cranky as she finally released around him. Holding herself back was impossible in this new position and the new pace he had going on for her.

“Mhm hm — That’s it — Just like that,” Logan growled through his teeth as he spread one of her ass cheeks to get a better view of his cock violating her cunt. The juice splashing everywhere could make him go insane, but he wanted to take it easy on her tonight.

“Gonna keep sneaking out? Gonna keep kissin’ on your friends and being a whore!?” Logan slightly tugged on her hair as he leaned down to breathe heavily into her ear. “Are you!?” The shouted.

“No! No!” She cried, making him chuckle as he leaned back. “That's what I thought,” the man felt cocky, knowing she stood no chance when it came to pissing him off. Wade would’ve definitely let this slide. That’s why Logan’s here though — To put her in her place.

“Gonna cum, baby,” the man spoke, making the going lady sob, but she had no idea why. Maybe the feeling of being dominated made her feel pathetic, but deep down she liked the claim.

“Oh, yeah,” Logan growled, thrust stuttering as he spread her ass cheeks even further so he could get all of him in. “Ah huh- Fuck!” Logan groaned one last time before he began spilling inside of the weak girl.

Y/n whined at the feeling of his seed coating and filling her walls. He leaks beyond more than a regular human, and she realized that as plenty leaked out of her cunt and down her legs.

“That’s my good girl,” Logan kept his hands on her head, pushing her down as the other rubbed her ass, slapping slightly to see a little jiggle.

“Gonna keep this good girl filled so she won’t have to touch on little boys anymore,”

[gatorbites-imagines]

Hey Gator can you write for Moon Knight with reader thats also an avatar but for Ra? Cuz duality

Moonboys x avatar of Ra male reader 

Headcanons 

“Kill them with kindness. WRONG, CURSE OF RA” my dream of a moon knight season 2 seems further and further away, and I fear it will never happen. How’s everyone doin? Viktor nation, how are we feeling? 

I'm trying out a new writing tool, so if there's spelling mistakes, that's why. It has been a while since I watched Moon Knight, so some of my canon might be off. 

If this was an oc, I would have to make the reader a Pharaoh, since they are seen as manifestations of Ra or so-called Sons of Ra. But this isn't an oc, so the reader won't be. 

Maybe you are a solar physicist instead, since that whole job is about studying the sun. Or you could be a writer who writes travel books, or history books, which allows you to travel the world. 

I'm not sure if you would be a shadow of the night like the moonboys. Ra is a god and has his worshippers, but I don't actually know if he's the one who punishes people or not. 

And since Ra is the god of the sun, you would act during the day for the most part. You can still move around during the night obviously, but you prefer the sun and so does your patron.  

I don't think Ra would be cruel in the way Khonshu is, but he is still a god with expectations and things he wants you to do. Instead of just hunting criminals, he might have you healing people or using the abilities of creation to do things. 

Don't get me wrong, I still think Ra would have you blast somebody with the power of the literal sun, but he might think about it first. Sometimes. 

I like to think you get to shoot sun lasers out of your eyes, and mouth. And like, anywhere you want. Who is gonna stop the sun of all things? You can kick major ass, and with a god that's mostly nicer than Khonshu, you have an easier time doing it too. 

Being the avatar of Ra doesn't mean you are all sunshine and rainbows obviously. That role goes to Steven. But you aren't as tense and ready for violence at all times, like Marc and Jake are. 

I like to think you are always warm to the touch, so depending on whose fronting, you find yourself getting cuddled.  

I like to think, even though they share a body, the boys have differences. Like, I think Steven struggles with always feeling cold, at least his fingers and toes. So, he slips his hands into your pockets, or stuffs his feet under you. 

Marc wouldn't struggle with feeling cold, but I think he would find a lot of comfort in how warm you are. You never get uncomfortably warm, like sure, it gets really hot, but he never feels clammy or sweaty.  

Marc would saddle up beside you when he's having rough days and just needs to... exist. Expect him to end up under your shirt somehow. It's not anything wild, he just shuffles up under it so he can lay his head on your chest and dissociate, using your warmth to ground himself. 

Jake wouldn't have much of an opinion about you always running hot, except for maybe grumbling a few comments about how you always wear shorts and tank tops, even when it's snowing outside. 

Jake will end up nuzzling against you when you guys are sleeping, though he doesn't like this admit it. This is just in general, as Jake struggles with showing affection or emotions that aren't negative. 

Controlling the sun also lets you give them the most comfortable massages they have ever experienced, since you can warm up your hands and then warm their aching muscles. 

It's a sure way to knock all three of them out, even if Marc and Jake try to act tough. They just become puddy in your hands. This might also be because they just know on a deep level, that they are safe with you, so they can relax. 

Going out and doing avatar work together is a must. Theres some differences on who's fronting there too. 

Steven, being Mr. knight, isn't as quick to murder and violence as Marc and Jake, so i imagine you guys spend a good chunk of time talking, ignoring your patrons since they like to argue. 

Marc is similar in his own way, he's not as violent or snappy when you come along. He might even jokingly call it a date, even if you guys are hunting someone who needs to be punished. 

Jake is the most quiet and deadly one, since he's used to hurting and hurting others. He would never hurt you though, and if you have a softer personality and like to crack jokes, you might even get him to laugh. 

Post missions are always for cuddling and checking up on each other. Gotta make sure your boys aren't hurt and all. Yeah, you guys might both have god given healing factors, but you still check them over, no matter who is fronting. 

This also means you end up getting checked over too, since all three of them are worrywarts in their own ways. Blame it on trauma, but they just need to physically see that you are okay. 

If it's been a hard patrol or target, you might have to work on getting them present and aware. I could see all three of them dissociating every now and then, leaving no one able to front, so as their boyfriend, you have to help them resurface. 

Heating your hands up, not enough to burn but enough to be felt, and placing them on their wrist, thigh, or face, depending on the situation, will help ground them. Sometimes they cling to you too, if you got really badly hurt. 

Your guy's patrons obviously also aren't welcome in the apartment when you guys take care of bruises and hurts after missions. Ra accepts it and just tells you to heal, and Khonshu will grumble about it, but the guys leaves you alone for the most part

[wileys-russo]

Matildas content has me in a chokehold for my fav aussie girlies! Would you consider something with kyra x r where the girls notice how easily r stops kyra’s annoying little sister behavior (rip mother steffy) maybe something along the lines of r being sleepy and Kyra being loud, a little “baby, im tired” and kyra’s basically 🤐 and the girls are just like this is all we needed for her to not be a menace lol!

around her little finger II k.cooney-cross x reader

"mate she's killing me, i really don't know how you put up with her." caitlin grumbled with a huff, shoving kyra away who tickled at the back of her neck with a grin, all of you exhausted after a long day of travel.

"patience and practice." you smiled bumping your shoulder into the older girls who sighed and grabbed her bag, heading into the hotel before kyra could catch her.

there wasn't a need though as of course kyra's attention was on her most favourite person to annoy, steph.

"kyra get off you rat!" steph laughed, shoving kyra away where she tried to clamber onto her back, smacking the younger girl in the back of the head as she reached for her bags.

"ow! babe did you see that? she abused me." your girlfriend turned to you with a pout. "baby you abuse her on a daily basis, you asked for it." you patted her cheek softly as steph laughed loudly in her face and slung an arm over you.

"and this is why you're my favourite child." steph sighed happily as you shot your girlfriend a grin over the older girls shoulder whose pout had shifted into a grumpy scowl as she grabbed her bags and yours.

"not fair! you've known each other longer." kyra grumbled moodily, steph having played alongside you since your very first pro season in the a-leagues, having taken you under her wing from day one. "i'm also significantly more tolerable than you ky." you teased as your girlfriend rolled her eyes and mocked you under her breath.

"thats the understatement of the century." steph agreed with a hum, yelping as kyra kicked at the back of her legs and sent her stumbling forward nearly taking you down with her. "kyra!" steph growled as your girlfriend beamed and sprinted into the hotel.

"you can do so much better than her, you know that right?" steph sighed taking your face in her hands as you rolled her eyes. "you love us together stephanie don't lie, you meddled about to get us with one another in the first place!" you wagged a finger as she grinned and let you go.

"i do, i really do. she might be a massive pain in the ass but you two are adorable together!" steph cooed and pinched your cheek as the two of you stepped inside the lobby.

"yeah and you've got her on a leash! whipped." you turned around at the new voice as your face lit up. "lani!" you launched at the taller girl, wrapping yourself around her in a hug as the defender squeezed you tightly.

"no longer wanting to punch me now are we baby t?" the blonde teased as she dropped you back to your feet and you pushed her shoulder with a scoff. "one; i hate that nickname. two; it was a dirty tackle and you deserved a yellow!" you warned as the older girl simply grinned and pulled you into her side, the two of you catching up as you wandered toward check in.

"also you might hate it but you're branded with that nickname for life now." alanna warned patting your head as you pushed her away, the nickname in general being a shortened version of 'baby tillie' which you'd earned the day you rocked up for your first senior camp at only fifteen with boots one size too big and your training bib on backwards.

you made your way around saying your hello's, your girlfriend waiting patiently by check in with your bags at her feet already having said her greetings.

"so you finally did it then?" steph looked up and her face broke out into a grin at the sight of hayley, embracing the shorter girl in a very tight hug. "did what?" steph frowned a little as hayley nodded over her shoulder toward kyra who was watching you with a lovesick pining stare.

"oh yes! finally manipulated them both into admitting their feelings for one another." steph smiled victoriously, you and kyra only having been officially together for a few months now after clearly crushing mutually for years.

"i give it a couple more weeks till she gets sick of that." hayley grinned, nodding to kyra who had grown bored of waiting for you, now wrapped around caitlin trying to pull her into a headlock.

"oh that isn't a problem with them. in fact, its a solution! just you wait."

~

sure enough, the others didn't need to wait long to see just what steph meant.

with word of you and kyra spreading rapidly around the team it wasn't long until the teasing started which you just brushed off with a roll of your eyes and a smile.

kyra however took the opposite approach, bragging on and on about how much you were whipped for her and how you were the biggest 'simp' she'd ever met, a charming recount which really no one but kyra actually believed.

after a grueling morning of fitness testing in the hot abu dhabi sun and everyone was cooling down in the ice baths prepared by the coaching staff, protein shakes in hand as time was spent catching up.

"on your left darlin." you looked up with a grin as ellie jumped in beside you, inhaling with a slight hiss at the change in temperature and clenching her top in her teeth, slowly sinking down into the freezing water.

"well well well if isn't little miss le clean sheet!" you teased with a smirk, ellie shoving your head to the side as the media team started their rounds with the mini mic having already cautioned everyone about camp content being needed.

"who would play you in a movie about your life?" you oohed as it was your turn, ellie already answering as you paused to think about your own. "natalie portman?" you laughed, unable to really think of an answer.

"you wish!" ellie scoffed with a grin, a few of the other girls adding onto the teasing as you mocked them and pulled a face. "because you look so much like margot robbie!" you threw back at alanna whose face dropped as your girlfriend hopped into the ice bath with her.

"fuck off kyra!" the blonde groaned, shoving her away as kyra stuck her finger in her ear with a grin. "anyone else want to babysit?" alanna grumbled, huffing and smacking the midfielder who continued to poke and prod at her.

"ky!" your girlfriend paused to look over her shoulder toward you as you raised an eyebrow.

no further words needing to be said the brunette sank down a little deeper into the water, sipping on her shake and stopping pestering alanna who looked on in surprise as you returned to your conversation with ellie and claire.

hayley got to see everything first hand a little later in the day, everyone gathering together for a session in the gym now it was a little cooler and everyone had eaten lunch.

"kyra! you're fucking killing me here." caitlin groaned as the girl clung onto her leg like a child, refusing to let go so she could continue her workout. "kyra please go finish your own reps, burn off some energy or something." steph tried with a roll of her eyes as kyra ignored her and continue to cling on.

a few others tried but kyra just ignored them, caitlin trying desperately to shake her off and even threatening to drop a weight on her head had no effect on the midfielder.

"mini man help me out!" caitlin whined pointing to kyra as katrina held her hands up. "she doesn't listen to me!" the older woman laughed, knowing the younger girls willingness to annoy others much out drove her willingness to listen to them.

"ky, can you spot me please?" you appeared suddenly with a drink bottle in hand, kyra dropping from caitlins leg and immediately jumping up to her feet, following loyally after you like a puppy.

"well, would seem she does listen to someone." hayley scoffed, all of the girls bar steph's faces written with shock, watching as kyra raced off to fill your water up for you after loading up the bench press insisting you not touch a thing until she returned.

"see? told you ras, baby t's got her wrapped right round her little finger." steph smirked somewhat proudly, the girls all shaking their heads and returning to their own workouts, kyra hovering protectively above you watching like a hawk as you did your lifts.

~

if word spread quickly about you and kyra just simply finally being together, it spread even faster about just what an impact and a grip you seemed to have over the rambunctious midfielder and her pestering antics.

"no way! she's that much of a pain." mackenzie scoffed in disbelief at alanna's words about what happened in the gym yesterday and in the ice baths, caitlin adding in several experiences of her own from back in london.

like the time kyra was caught tying katie's shoes together and with one disappointed sigh from you she immediately untied them and raced to katie with an apology.

or the time she wouldn't stop spraying alessia with her water bottle for the entire training until suddenly you were thirsty and she was barreling over toward the taps to fill up about five of them which were ran right over to you.

or the time she stacked up a whole heap of the big black foam training blocks to prove to teyah she could in fact touch the roof.

but with one mention of her name and a raised eyebrow from you, the midfielder was clambering down and putting the blocks back, showering your face with apologetic kisses as you scolded her and warned she could have been seriously hurt had she fallen.

"you are lying! look at her she's a menace." mackenzie rolled her eyes pointing to where kyra was currently rolling around on the rec room floor wrestling with charli as teagan egged them on.

"what are we talking about then?" you hopped over the back of the couch they were sat on, wedging yourself between alanna and mackenzie. "comfortable?" the blonde raised an eyebrow as you tucked yourself into her side and stretched your legs out over mackenzies lap.

"very, thank you lanz." you grinned patting her knee as the older girl rolled her eyes affectionately but moved her arm to drape across you. "how you've got kyra wrapped round your little finger." caitlin chuckled in answer to your previous question.

"oh yeah, absolutely." you nodded with a serious expression as mackenzie scoffed. "there is no way, she's too much of a stubborn pest to listen to anyone." the goalkeeper shook her head as you shrugged, unbothered by the disbelief.

"game of uno?"

"ha! draw four, again." alanna smirked toward mackenzie who was fuming, yanking another four cards up and mumbling angrily under her breath.

"relax mac you're gonna burst a blood vessel in your forehead, at your age that could cause some serious winkle damage." you teased, both you and caitlin down to one card each as poor mackenzie now had at least twelve.

"unless you would like me to hang you upside down by your ankles again, shut it." the older girl warned seriously as you held hands up in defence. "that was so good i've gotta find the video of that again." alanna snickered as you pinched her leg with a glare.

"i didn't even deserve it considering i was framed and both of you knew and didn't say anything!" you huffed at the memory of the goalkeeper indeed hanging you upside down by your ankles when she thought you'd put honey in her gloves.

but really it was of course a much younger sam who didn't even come to your defence as you swore black and blue it wasn't you, mackenzie only letting you down when your face went bright red since the blood had rushed to your head.

"i said i was sorry and i threw sam in the ice bath, don't be a baby about it." mackenzie shrugged finally getting alanna back with a draw four of her own. "you never said sorry!" you argued with a scowl which quickly turned to a victorious smirk as you slapped down your final card with a whoop of success.

"three in a row, unbeatable." you grinned happily, all three girls around you moaning in annoyance and throwing their cards down. "i'm tapping out, leaving as a winner you know?" you flexed with a confident smile.

"goodnight!" you hurried to dart out of the way of alanna's hand which grabbed for your top as you wiggled your fingers at them over your shoulder.

your girlfriend in the meantime was on a winning streak of her own only it wasn't just her opponents whose nerves she was rapidly grating as she sat on a beanbag playing mario kart, yelling and jeering and poking at poor steph who was stuck in dead last.

"nah this is rigged! what have you done to it?" she shot the brunette beside her a fierce glare as kyra let out an over dramatic evil laugh causing a few heads to turn to her with scowls of annoyance at her volume in the shared space.

picking up on the rapidly frosty mood building in the room and not wanting your girlfriend to make too many enemies on her first night, as kyra crossed the finish line in first you decided to step in.

"ha! loser loser looser." kyra leapt up and chanted repeatedly at steph beside her who scowled and threw the remote onto the now vacant beanbag beside her as kyra continued with her obnoxious celebrations.

"anyone else game enough to face the champ?" the midfielder smiled smugly looking around the room but clearly missing the looks of disdain thrown back at her, even charli looking ready to call it a night.

"nobody? everyone too chicken?" kyra made a loud squawking noise and grinned. "just go to bed kyra! you are giving everyone a headache." caitlin groaned from the sofa as your girlfriend started to argue.

"ky." your hand grabbed softly at her bicep, cutting her off mid sentence as she looked to you with a raised eyebrow, the brunette now consumed entirely in giving you whatever you wanted.

"baby, i'm tired. lets head up?" you asked with a raised eyebrow, kyra nodding and immediately tossing the controller onto the beanbag without another word, grabbing your hand and following you right out of the room.

"see? around. her. little. finger!" caitlin smirked at the look of utter shock on mackenzie's face, most of the team looking on in surprise at yet again just how easily kyra would bend over backwards to meet your needs.

"ow! what the hell was that for?" steph huffed as hayley dropped down in the beanbag beside her and handed her one of the abandoned controllers.

"for not getting them together sooner!"

[irisintheafterglow]

can i put in my two cents on girldad!bakugo whose daughter got mom's quirk

cw: prohero!bkg, swearing, fem!reader, fluff and crack with a small side of angst

"yer mom's gonna fuckin' kill me if we don't get this out," he mumbles, furiously scrubbing at the splotches of rainbow paint covering his three-year-old daughter's previously white dress.

"fuckin!" his daughter echoes and he flinches.

"no, no, no. we can't say that," he says softly, kneeling down on the tile of the laundry room where she was watching him work. "mama's gonna kick my ass if she hears you swear, so we can't say that word...yet. m'kay sweetheart?"

"kick ass!" she laughs innocently, giggling as his face contorts into a mix of horror, shock, and joy. "dada, you funny," she babbles, reaching up to grab at his face. he fights the instinct to pull away, afraid of how she'd react if she looked too closely at the scars covering his face. you'd talked him through it numerous times before, but he was still scared she would be scared of all the battles etched into his skin. it was his own anxiety talking, he knew, and she must have received her empathy from you because she reached up toward her dad anyway. her little eyebrows pinch and her stubby fingers brush over the rough, discolored tissue. "dada ouchie?"

"dada ouchie long time ago, bubs," he murmurs, taking her hand and kissing her tiny nails. "but mama saved dada. and now," he lifts her from the floor and positions her comfortably on his hip, her head leaning against his shoulder, "baby needs to help save dada from mama."

"mama angry?" his daughter frowns and he nods, staring frustratedly at the pastel stains on the white fabric. "what dada do?"

"oi! it's not always my fault," he protests, leaning closer as his daughter tries to tug his hair. "though, i do admit, this is my shit to clean up."

"shit!" she repeats brightly, grinning up at him as he fondly rolls his eyes.

"i think you're doing this on purpose, you gremlin," he grunts and she smiles up at him mischievously.

"gremlin!" it's the same smirk he does, the only difference being her eyes match yours instead of his.

"you got yer dada's dirty mouth. mama's not gonna be happy, but i," he pecks a kiss on her forehead, "am ecstatic." his daughter's eyes temporarily flash emerald green and she points to the front door.

"zuzu," she informs him. he groans and bites back another curse, throwing the stained dress into a basket and hoping for the best.

"that dumbass isn't supposed to be here until six," bakugo grumbles. he adjusts his daughter and moves into the living room in time to catch a car pulling up at the curb of the house.

"dumbass!" he doesn't have time to scold her because, unfortunately, her quirk isn't done yet. while he hurries to kick any toys under the couch and wipe the faded paint off his hands, her eyes flash pink, red, and yellow a split second before a knock at the front door.

"mimi! eiji!" his daughter squeals in excitement. he sets her down so she can rush to the door, opening it to reveal a half-dozen pro heroes squished onto the front porch. she jumps straight into kirishima's open arms, a string of drool dripping from her wide smile.

"you're early," bakugo deadpans while his high school friends toe off their shoes. "wasn't expecting her to alert for another half hour." his daughter transfers from kirishima to mina, who throws her up into the air like a beach ball. "oi, watch it with her, pinky. don't be giving her a concussion."

"lighten up, bakugo," mina replies without missing a beat, tossing the squealing child again. "what's got your panties in a twist?"

"did her flight get delayed or something?" denki asks, taking the baby from mina and flying her around the room while making racecar noises. bakugo watches his daughter like a hawk, never more than five feet away from her. he won't admit that he trusts his friends, but he also knows he could never be too careful.

"nah," he frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. "i jus' fucked up, is all."

"how so?" bakugo mindlessly unpacks the various packages of chips and soda, organizing them on the kitchen counter and punching a stray balloon out of his way.

"accidentally sent her to school with the wrong dress on," he grimaces. "thought it was a different white one, but it was supposed to be the one for today." he disappears momentarily into the laundry room, re-entering with the stained white dress in his hand. "she was screamin' and cryin' about not having anything to wear for her school's paint-a-thon thing, so i just put this on her without checkin..."

"yeesh, she really did a number on this, didn't she?" kirishima says, examining the various spots of pink, blue, and green. "her mom say anything about what she was supposed to wear?"

"i didn't wanna bother her," he mumbles in shame. "you know how important this gig was for her." his friends nod, wracking their brains for how to improve the situation. it was mina's idea, originally, to host a welcome home party after you'd been overseas for a reconnaissance mission, which was why they'd all congregated at your house.

"if it means anything, i think it looks even better," she assures him with a pat on his shoulder. "the colors are nice."

"thanks, pinky. i'm just not good at this shit."

"what, being a dad? like it's hard?" kirishima clicks his tongue, lightly slapping denki on the back of his head.

"dad of a girl," bakugo corrects with a scowl, "you got sons, pikachu. don't even try me."

"i think what he means," kirishima gently interrupts after shooting denki a look, "is that you should be a little easier on yourself."

"she's just got her mom's quirk, y'know? i don't want her to grow up with a shitty dad that doesn't know how to help her develop her quirk." though your daughter could only track up to six people and locate them when they're within 100 feet, your ability to track up to 65 people and locate them on a country-wide scale made you highly desirable to agencies around the globe. with you gone, it was up to bakugo to take care of his daughter and keep the house in order, but he found himself struggling to know what decisions were the right ones.

"you're learning, bakubro, and so is she." denki gestures to your daughter sitting on the living room floor, concentrating on stacking wooden ice cream pieces. "she doesn't know what a 'bad dad' is. she just knows you, and i don't think you're a terrible dad at all." bakugo nods in lieu of answering, his cheeks heating as the rest of his friends echo their agreement.

"if this little ball of spunk is any indication of how much of you she's got in her," mina says with a fond smile, "then she's gonna be just fine." any further thoughts are halted by the front door swinging open again.

"i got the cake! we gotta put it in the fridge, though, since it might've been smushed during travel," deku announces, handing off a stack of gift boxes and catering platters to denki. "now where's my favorite girl?"

"zuzu!" on cue, she comes waddling around the corner of the couch and helps herself to her favorite uncle's shoulders, finding two fistfuls of green hair as handles.

"you better not drop my fuckin' daughter, izuku," bakugo warns. "i'll blast your ass to mercury."

"do you always swear this much with her around?"

"fuckin!"

"that's exactly what i don't think should happen," kirishima states, unsurprised. "have you been teaching her that stuff?"

"she's a smart girl. picks up on things quick, like her mama," he dodges. "speaking of, you got eyes on mama yet, baby?"

"no mama, dada," she replies. "mama home soon?"

"yeah, mama home soon, so we gotta get you ready." he's about to take his daughter off deku's shoulders when he hears mina gasp. he'd known her long enough to know that sound meant she had an idea, and those ideas weren't necessarily good ones. "you got somethin' to say, pinky?"

"let me get her ready, and i'll fix your little dress problem for you," she says cryptically. bakugo doesn't have much time to protest as his daughter is already stretching from his arms to mina's, giggling while they disappear down the hallway.

---

forty-five minutes and a handful of inflated balloons later, his daughter's eyes flash neon orange, the same color your eyes flash for him. she doesn't know any other color to assign me, you theorized one night as you laid together in comfortable darkness. i guess she just associates me with you.

"welcome home!" denki excitedly opens the confetti shooter while kirishima bombards you with a sizable flower bouquet. you're standing speechless in the doorway and he watches your eyeline; it scans the room and its many shimmering balloons, paper streamers, and hero friends until it lands on him and your daughter, holding tightly to his pinky by the kitchen table. when the glitter settles, he gives her a nod, an okay to let her run to you.

"hi, my darling!" you beam, picking her up to hold her close and meet your husband's eyes over her shoulder. "and hello, my love," you murmur as his hands find your waist, pulling you close and pressing his lips to your forehead.

"missed you," he hums, his breathing finally returning to a steady rhythm for the first time in weeks. "she's been a handful."

"i'm sure she has." katsuki's expression is soft, only reserved for you and the child in your arms.

"how was the job?"

"a lot," you admit, allowing yourself to decompress now that you're home. "i can't tell if my head hurts from my quirk or the ten-hour flight," you smile tiredly.

"you got enough in the tank to entertain our friends? or do you need me to kick 'em out?"

"if it's these guys," you say, looking at the rowdy group of guests passing around plates and flatware, "of course i can."

"i guess we got more incoming," katsuki observes as another carload full of his friends arrive. "can we get you some food? baby and i will handle being welcome committee."

"well, do you, uh," you chuckle, finally acknowledging the pink-splattered elephant between you two. "do you wanna tell me why your shirt looks like you hugged a rainbow? and why her dress' stains look older?"

"oh, right. this." he looks down at his previously white button-down, now colored various shades of orange, blue, yellow, and pink to match his daughter's dress. you raise your eyebrows knowingly, already amused even before he answers.

"yeah," you smirk. "that." he shrugs, snaking a hand behind your back and leading you to the platters of dinner on the counter.

"it was paint-a-thon day."

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! commissions and nsfw requests can be sent through my fiverr! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

[simplyholl]

Fireworks

Summary: Loki uses an illusion while you have fun during a fireworks show.

Pairing: Loki x F. Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ Only.

See My Masterlist Here

“We can’t, not here.” You protest, trying to talk some sense into your fuck buddy, Loki. “No one will miss us.” He tempts you, raising a suggestive eyebrow. You can’t resist him, it was like trying to hold your breath. Eventually you would give in, needing him more than you ever thought possible.

The Fourth of July was usually reserved for barbecues and pool days, but this year Tony wanted to throw a lavish dinner party to impress some higher ups who still had their doubts about the Avengers. So here you were, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes wearing stuffy suits and elegant gowns eating prime rib and lobster instead of wearing swimsuits and stuffing your faces with hotdogs.

You all had been warned to be on your best behavior, especially Loki and Thor whose Asgardian liquor often times made them and everyone they shared it with bad decision makers. You wished you could blame the alcohol when you took Loki’s hand, letting him guide you out of the dining hall while everyone started to gather outside for fireworks. But you didn’t drink anything except for water. You didn’t have an excuse, momentarily dickmatized, you went willingly.

“Nope. Not tonight, get your asses back here right now.” Tony stops you, pointing to the wrap around porch the others were gathering on. You sigh, giving your best puppy dog eyes to him, hoping it would work. If anyone understood the importance of getting off, it was Tony.

“Don’t give me that look. If we didn’t have the very people who could shut us down in attendance, I would even cover for you. But we have to make it seem like we are the best people they know.” Tony explains, adjusting the collar on his dress shirt nervously.

Loki turns, following him out, never letting go of your hand. Once Tony does a headcount, Loki brings you to the darkest corner of the porch. A flash of green passes by so quickly, you’re sure you imagined it. But this is Loki, and he was always up to something.

“What are you doing?” You whisper so no one can hear you. One of the old men look in your direction, you fake a smile and wave at him until he takes his attention off you. In the distance Mr. USA himself, Steve Rogers sets off the first firework. An explosion of red lighting up the sky.

“Do you trust me?” Loki whispers in your ear. “Yes, but now’s not the time to live up to your namesake, Mischief.” You answer, eyes narrowing suspiciously. You would both be in big trouble, possibly kicked off the team if you did anything to portray the Avengers in a negative way tonight. “To everyone else, it looks like we are enjoying the fireworks. They can’t see what we are really doing.”

He leans down to gently kiss your shoulder, long fingers sliding your dress straps down your arms exposing your breasts. You gasp, trying to cover yourself. The nosy old man from earlier looks over at you, but doesn’t notice your uncovered body. He looks away as another firework illuminates the darkness.

“I would never let them look at you like this.” He purrs. His rich voice washing away any doubt you had. He nuzzles his head to your chest, his fingers lightly pinching your nipples. You moan, and Natasha turns, looking at you questioningly. “They can’t see what we are doing, darling, but they can hear us.”

“Loki, we have to stop.” He instantly goes still. “What’s wrong?” You rub his cheek to reassure him. “I can’t be quiet. They will hear us.” You can see the gears turning in his head, his eyes lighting up when he gets an idea.

Loki drops to his knees, large hands sliding up your thighs until he reaches your panties. He works them down your legs as you watch in anticipation. He wads them up, his obscenely big hand covering them completely as he brings them to your face. His thumb taps your bottom lip, beckoning it open. When your mouth forms an O, Loki places your panties inside. “There that should muffle any sound you make.”

You watch in disbelief, turned on by his antics. You feel the unmistakable warmth of your arousal drip down your thighs. Loki lifts your gown, settling on his knees once again. He places your leg over his shoulder, your fingers tangle in his curls as he dives in.

His talented tongue swirls your clit before dipping inside you. He thrusts his tongue, while the tip of his nose rubs against your most sensitive part. You shudder, lost in the pleasure he’s giving you.

Loki takes your clit between his lips, sucking gently as his tongue flicks in unison. Your legs tremble as his soft licks grow firmer. You groan, your panties keeping the sound from reaching the ears of the others. But Loki hears it, he loves that you will do anything for him.

You’re typically a rule follower, always early for your appointments, avoiding trouble at any cost. Until he showed up, he turned your world upside down. You would never consider letting someone eat you out in front of company, depending on him to use his magic to conceal you. You would never trust anyone else like him. He supposed that was what he liked the most. You trust him completely.

He strokes you with his velvet tongue once more, adding two fingers. The intrusion sends you spiraling. Fireworks exploding behind your closed eyelids mirroring what was happening around you. You bite down on your panties, fighting every primal urge to scream Loki’s name.

Loki turns you around, pressing you against the building. He quickly slides his pants down, reaching below to gather your dress, bunching it up on your side. His large hands run along the curve of your backside, giving it a squeeze. He parts your legs with his own, positioning himself.

He bottoms out in one thrust, you moan loudly, praying the panties will do their intended job. You always feel so full, so complete when you have sex with Loki. No one could ever compare. He slides his hand between you, thumb working your clit as you clench around him.

The sounds of skin slapping against each other is unmistakable. You can’t be bothered to worry about it when he rearranges your guts like this. You’ll feel it all night and tomorrow. You always do. Your side will ache, too sore to bend over. It was a delicious reminder of him.

The finale of the fireworks coincided with your orgasm. You were thankful for the noise of the pyrotechnics. Every drag of his cock made you scream as you came around him. He was close behind, spilling inside you as your visitors clapped when the show was over.

Loki turns you around, retrieving your panties from your mouth and using them to wipe away the mess he made of you. He kisses your shoulder before pulling your dress straps back where they belong. You extend your hand reaching for your panties, but he shakes his head placing them in his pocket instead.

Another flicker of green surrounds you, dropping the illusion. Loki motions to your hair, letting you know you have more than a few tresses out of place. You’re smoothing your hair down as Natasha comes over, a knowing smirk on her full lips. “It sounded like you two were doing more clapping than our visitors over there.” She says, laughing as she walks away.

Tags

@cindylynn @wheredafandomat @multifandom-worlds @lokischambermaid @lokisgoodgirl @wolfsmom1 @loz-3 @kats72 @crimson25 @litaloni @zombiesnips-blog @gruftiela @mochie85 @cakesandtom @eleniblue @violethaze @lokidokieokie @buttercupcookies-blog @mjsthrillernp @chantsdemarins @lulubelle814 @anukulee @theallknown213 @alexakeyloveloki @tmilover1993 @fandxmslxt69 @artemis-13 @fictive-sl0th @nomajdetective @goblingirlsarah @foxherder @kathren1sky-blog @javagirl328 @kcd15 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @soggylampshade0 @weirdothatwritess @silver-tongue-taken-to-bed @mischief2sarawr @ozymdias @freegardenbanananeck @lamentis-10 @jainaeatsstars @aoirohi @mushycore @marygoddessofmischief @queenshu @jasmine-pudding @kcd15 @jiyascepter @daddieslut1 @macnbriee @sammichdog

[thewertsearch]

Anonymous asked: just read through your entire liveblog and wow. what a place to catch up. do you have any predictions about what the postscratch versions of the guardians will be? what about the guardian versions of the kids?

So.

Mom Lalonde, Grandpa Harley, Nanna Egbert, and Bro Strider, reborn as the story's protagonists, and thrust into a Playerdom I never expected them to bear. The consequences of this reveal are likely to kick in on the very next page - and since that's a page I'm clicking on tonight, this is my last chance for some blind speculation.

There are an absolute mountain of angles I could potentially cover here, and it's impossible to address all the implications of this twist, so I'm just going to touch on a few key questions that Act 6 will need to answer sooner rather than later.

Without further ado, let's dive into our first question.

Who, exactly, is raising these kids?

The simplest solution, of course, would be a one-to-one exchange between each Player and their Guardian. That certainly seems to be the case for Jade and Grandpa, who have been directly swapped. This would imply that Rose raised Mom, Dave raised Bro, and John might have raised Nanna. (More on that later.)

Still, that's not the only possibility. There's no reason why Dave couldn't raise the adolescent Mom instead, for example, with Rose adopting the younger Bro in his stead. That particular configuration has a lot of character potential, actually, because Bro Lalonde would undoubtedly be an unholy terror, and Mom Strider might just be one of the coolest characters I've ever conceived of.

This aesthetic, with those shades? Come on.

...all that said, though, I'm fairly sure we are just getting a one-to-one swap. That's how it appears to have worked for the trolls, and the one post-Scratch Player with a confirmed Guardian already matches this pattern.

Plus, swapping the kids with their own parents is just so interesting, on a character level, as it'd add a whole new dimension of analysis to the fucked-up relationships between Bro & Dave, Mom & Rose, and Grandpa & Jade.

Seeing how they all treat each other, now that the roles have been reversed, would be incredibly illuminating, and might shed some light on the thought processes of the pre-Scratched Guardians, as they were raising their own respective charges.

Anyway - now that we've got that out of the way, let's talk about each individual family.

The Egberts

Astute readers will notice that I only mentioned the Guardian-Player parallels for three of our Players above - and that's because when it comes to the fourth, there's a slight complication.

Namely, Dad Egbert no longer exists.

This means that Nanna's home life can't parallel John's, because the man who raised John was never even born. It's possible, then, that John will simply raise Nanna himself, as her grandfather.

Honestly, that's the scenario I'm hoping for, here. Out of our four original Players, I think that John would be the best parent by far - he's sweet, resilient, and has a natural talent for nurturing the positive qualities of the people he loves. If a baby lands in his backyard, he's going to rise to the challenge, octogenarianism be damned.

...now, here's where I'd speculate a little about Nanna's personality, but she's the one post-Scratch Player I can't really get a bead on. We only ever interacted with her Spritesona, whose personality was obviously corrupted by the presence of the jester doll.

As a result, I don't really have a clue what Nanna will be like. The only thing I'm sure about, if John's the one raising her, is that she'll be loved.

The Striders

First of all, I have faith in Dave.

I think he's more or less guaranteed to be a better Guardian than his brother ever was. Granted, I don't think Dave would be particularly paternal, but I also think he'll be able to refrain from beating Bro's ass with a puppet, which is progress.

I think Dave would be a laissez-faire type of guardian, who allows the younger Bro a lot more agency and autonomy than other kids his age, but also struggles to be the adult in the room when his kid needs guidance. He's not going to be as traumatized as his younger self, but I bet it's still borderline impossible to have a serious conversation with him. In fact, I wouldn't be surprised if Kid Bro turned out to be the more mature of the pair.

In a nutshell, Dave was born to be a cool uncle, but was forced unwittingly into a parental role instead. He's doing his best.

Quite frankly, I'm very worried about Kid Bro.

If we assume that every Paradox Clone keeps the same Veil item as last time - and there's no reason why they wouldn't - then Bro will be coming down with Lil' Cal, the cursed puppet created by Gamzee's Chucklevoodoos.

I'm still convinced that long-term exposure to this abomination was the main reason Bro was so batshit insane, and while the younger Bro won't have been around it for quite as long, he'll still have thirteen years of an evil Juggalo's Rage miasma being beamed into his brain.

I think Kid Bro will be a little batshit, but not completely batshit. We'll see a child with the potential to become the deranged ventriloquist who tormented Dave, but one who can still be saved, if we can just get that hell puppet away from him.

Separated from Cal, I still think Bro will be a memelord, and I'm sure not all his interests came from the puppet. I think this guy was always destined to be a pretty bizarre dude - but with luck, this iteration of him will be a little more pleasant to be around.

The Lalondes

Rose... could go either way, honestly.

Just like Dave, I don't think she's the type who'd willingly choose to be a parent. Rose doesn't want a baby, she wants a library full of cursed tomes, a coven of witches to scheme with, and to live in an enormous gothic castle with her wife, Kanaya Maryam. Her ideal lifestyle couldn't handle a kid, and I think she's self-aware enough to know that, and adopt a hundred mutant kittens instead.

That said... if she had to raise a daughter, I think she'd try her best to do right by the girl. I think some part of her would absolutely resent the fact that she's a background character in someone else's life - especially if, like the Sufferer, she remembers being a Player - but she'd do everything she could to keep that resentment to herself.

Rose would be an alright mother. A little cold, maybe, and more than a little distant, but she'd still love her Roxy.

As for Roxy, I can only assume she's a gigantic fucking badass. Even among the Guardians, her barehanded combat feats were always astounding, and I think she and Kid Bro will be the primary combatants of their session.

I also think she'll be one of the most analytical, scientifically-minded Players we've ever seen. Her adult self was experimenting with Ectobiology even outside of Sburb, which suggests to me an intense curiosity about how all this shit works, which isn't present in most of our other heroes. Like Rose, she'll be a researcher, and maybe even a Seer - but while Rose searched for the truth via magic and mysticism, Roxy's research will be entirely scientific.

Honestly, the most exciting thing about finally meeting Roxy is the milestone it'll represent. I'll finally, finally have encountered every character I knew about prior to starting the comic.

The Harleys

Grandma Jade was still the Witch of Space, and was clearly aware of that fact.

This tells us that:

John, Rose and Dave also retained their Titles, even if they don't know it.

Grandma Jade was probably aware of Sburb and its secrets, especially if she was living near the Frog Temple.

Grandma Jade was the Witch of Space. She's gone.

...and I have a theory about what happened to her.

I think that when Grandpa was a baby, Jade travelled to Anachronism Island, just like her predecessor did - but this time around, it wasn't Bec who greeted her at the Temple.

No, I think Jade had a fatal encounter with the new First Guardian of Earth - a corrupted First Guardian, spliced with the same HONK code that created Scratch. Kid Grandpa clearly survived whatever happened next, and I think it's horribly plausible that the new First Guardian is a pseudo-Guardian to him, the same way Becquerel was to Jade.

In other words, this kid might be completely compromised, manipulated by English's servant since infancy. Let's not forget that he's the one who suggested making the bunny to Jade, which is the reason Jack was able to ascend in the first place...

...but someone suggested it to him, first.

Anyway, those are my high-level thoughts about the new timeline's key players. We'll be starting Act 6 in an hour or so, and I've got a feeling that we're about to see Nanna standing in a very familiar room.

After all, it just so happens that today...

[gingernut1314]

Head On ch. 8

Summary: You and your friends go to see Viktor off to school when you all are met with a horrid sight. All you want is to get everyone out safely and for Silco back at your side.

Content: female reader, gendered terms, pre-season 1 arcane, young Vander, young Silco, young Sevika, young reader, young Felicia, young Connol, baby Vi, Nadia & Nikolai are Viktor's parents, pre-teen Viktor, canon typical violence, riots, guns/blood, friend reunions, confessing feelings, reader has water manipulation, smoking, slight Arcane season 2/League of Legends spoiler (Janna, Felicia & Connol)

Word Count: 7.6K

Tag List: @miffysoo , @teriyakiitae , @locinne , @equaniimouxx , @cipher-nine

@shi-toshi , @sebastianlover

A/N: Okay okay, 1) I wanted to just quickly say THANK YOU to everyone whose taken the time to read this story and whose let me know you've been enjoying it!! It really does mean so much to me and keeps me going!! 2) sorry for the long ass word count. I can't help myself. I am a long word count girly who has been trying her hand at short word counts but will always go back to running her mouth in her stories lol 3) sorryyy for the time skip again. It's important to me at least to have it so that we can age up some younger characters anddd to keep things moved towards more fun events. It doesn't truly impair the story too much I feel. And 4) I hope you all enjoy!! Sending much love!!

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Three years later

“Oh and off she goes.” Felicia cheerfully spoke as Violet wandered off towards a bit of blue chalk lying on the side of the street faster than you believed her small legs should be able to take her. Felicia rushed after her, grabbing her toddler up in her arms just as Vi had snagged the bit of chalk. 

Vi gave an angered noise that sounded like some roaring beast at her feet leaving the ground. The kid thrashed about in her mom’s arms, kicking and throwing punches as if she could fight her way out. Felicia laughed through it all.

“Okay, okay.” Felicia placed a smacking kiss on her kid’s round, dirt-smudged cheek before quickly pulling her face out of the way of another small, chubby little fist. “Geez. One of these days you’re gonna knock someone's tooth out.” She huffed, placing Vi back onto the ground.

“No, no, mommy.” Vi humphed, wagging a finger like she was the boss. Felicia merely laughed again, ruffling her head of pink hair. 

“That kid needs a leash,” Sevika grumbled from where she walked beside you, pulling her cigarette from her lips.

“She’s just explori--oh and there she goes again.” Felicia booked it after Vi as she made to start writing on some passing man’s pants with the chalk still clutched in her fist. 

“Gods. Guppy, you ever catch me daydreaming about shit like having a kid, I give you full permission to smash a rock over my head.” Sevika took a long drag from her smoke after she spoke. 

“Only if you agree to do the same for me.” You smirked. Sevika held her first out and you were quick to bump your own against it. She pulled her cigarette from her lips and exhaled the remaining smoke from her lungs. 

“Deal.” 

“You two are so negative,” Nadia spoke from where she walked just before you two, her eyes nervously scanning over her own kid, now nearly on the cusp of teenage-hood. “Vi is just a very spirited child.” And just as Nadia finished, Vi gave another screeching wail as Felicia lugged her back over to you all. 

“Got her!” Felicia cheered as Violet’s eyes began to fill with frustrated tears. 

“How are you feeling, little angel?” Nadia asked Viktor who she hadn’t taken her eyes off once since they all started the walk towards the bridge. 

And she was nervous for good reason. She and Nikolai, after years and years of hard work and living off scraps, had saved up enough money to send Viktor to school in Piltover. 

And not just any school. The best school money could buy. A school that would further feed Viktor’s curiosity and need to experiment as well as give him the connections needed so he could, after he graduated, attend Piltover Academy. 

But for him to attend this school and become something over there, he had to stay there and you knew it was keeping everything within Nadia not to break down and forget about all of it. 

“The same way I felt when you asked me a minute and thirty seconds ago,” Viktor responded, voice full of sass he’d been using more and more lately. 

“Oh.” Nadia gave a weak smile. “Excited then, yes?” She asked, reaching a gentle hand out to run her fingers through his head of wild hair to try and smooth it back down. Violet gave another screeching wail just as Viktor swatted his mother’s hand away. 

“Silly goose,” Felicia spoke as Nadia pulled from her son, fingers beginning to fiddle and pick at each other. 

“Actually. Just shoot me.” Sevika grumbled under her breath to you as she observed the exchanges between both mothers and their kids.

“Only if you do the same.” Sevika chuckled heartily at your response. “Dee, you said Nikolai’s already over there?” You questioned, trying to quickly keep Nadia’s mind off her son's denial of affection. Nadia blinked her burnt gold eyes at you, that weak smile still plastered to her face. 

“Yes. Yes, he went last night to deliver a sculpture to a client. We have a friend he stayed the night with. He should already be on the other side of the bridge and to meet Viktor and bring--” Her voice faltered a bit as she gazed back at her son who confidently limped ahead, looking all too ready for this next step in life. “Bring him to school. Help him settle in.” 

“Good.” You quickened your pace a bit to be able to stand beside your friend. Your first friend. One you’d met as soon as she and her family had made it to the Lanes after fleeing their home. She had been just as sweet and kind back then as she was now, but she too held that same sass her son now used. You placed a hand on Nadia’s shoulder. 

“Viktor’ll do good. You know that. He’s smart.” Nadia nodded, grabbing hold of your hand tightly and giving you a heavy, grateful-filled look. “We’re here for you…even when Sevika’s a Miss. Dark and Gloomy and Felicia wrangling some feral creature.” Nadia gave an equally as weak huffed laugh. 

“Watch. My little creature is gonna grow up and become a famous cage fighter. Hand you all your asses while she’s at it.” Felicia grinned your way, Vi all but hanging upside down as Felicia struggled to keep a hold of her wrestling daughter. 

Felicia and Connol, since having Vi, decided Felicia could stop working the mines till Vi was old enough to stay home by herself. It made it so that Connol was rarely home and Felicia feeling a bit more lonely.

So, Felicia found work at your job. Your boss, having a soft spot for mothers and their little ankle biters, gave Felicia temporary work in her office where she could bring Violet while she helped with paperwork. 

It’s why Felicia was able to come with you all this morning to see Viktor off. You all would make sure he got across the bridge safe and sound before heading to the diner-shop to start the work day. 

After work, your group decided to hold a mock family dinner for Nadia and Nikolai to try and help keep their minds off their son living in a city that would try to swallow him whole every chance it got. 

You were trying not to think too hard about your whole group in one place like that. Talking and eating and drinking together, when such festivities had grown less and less frequent. 

And it was all thanks to you and Silco of course. 

Your fight three years ago had left you both fighting for months. Months that neared on a whole year before Vander stepped in and told you two to knock it off. That you needed to at least act civil when around the whole group, especially since Vi had been born. 

It had stopped the fighting but had left you two distant. Hardly a word spoke to each other for a year afterward.

The problem was you both were stubborn. Too proud to admit the fight was over nothing. Too proud to just sit down and talk it over like adults. 

You still hardly spoke a word to each other a year after that one, though now you two could be alone together and not have it turn into a verbal battle. 

You missed him. 

It was something you had been thinking about more and more. 

You missed exploring after work with him. Missed long talks while sharing a cigarette. Missed being able to sit next to him in silence, shoulders and thighs pressed together. Being able to sit there and not have the air be full of tension. 

You missed your friend. 

You cursed yourself out daily for having had a hand in losing his close friendship all because you had been scared and ran away. You should have just stayed in that cave and told him what you were thinking--how you were feeling. 

But that chance passed you by and you were stuck in this tension-filled now. 

Shouting pulled you from your thoughts. 

You thought at first it was Violet again, but it was too loud--too many different shouts. And when you looked to the little girl, you found she had calmed in her mom's arms, watching as a pair of people rushed past your group towards the bridge.

“Oh no.” Nadia gasped as you all rounded the corner, finding the mouth of the bridge a cluster of people shouting and screaming at the enforcers standing there, trying to keep them back. 

You didn’t have to peer too hard past everyone to see a large, chain fence had been put up, blocking anyone from going in. 

Nadia pulled from your touch and grabbed hold of her son, who didn’t shoo her away this time. 

“What the fuck.” Sevika hissed, plucking her cigarette from her lips and flicking it to the ground. “No chance in hell they’ve blocked us out.” 

But none of you would ever put it past them. They’d done it before a long while ago, back when Vander’s dad was your age and The Gray ran more rabid in the streets. 

“Do you know what happened?” Felicia asked the next person who tried to rush by. They took a small second to look back at you all, eyes shifting to look at Vi who was now greeting them with round after round of hi.

“They raised the toll. Five hundred.” You felt your blood run cold. The old toll had been hard enough to pay and now this? 

Five hundred? 

That was more than most made in a week’s worth of work. 

“And even if you can pay, they’re askin’ thousands of questions just to find any reason to not let you through. Not unless you have proof.” And off they rushed into the crowd, leaving you and your group fuming.

“Fuck this--Vander’s gotta give in after hearing this shit.” Sevika gruffed and you agreed. 

Vander would agree to start fighting back like you and the others had been wanting. He’d held you all back for years saying nothing that had happened was worth going to war for. 

But this was worth it. 

They were cutting you all off from the rest of the world like one might do to a decaying limb. 

Sevika made to march back through the fissures to find Vander, but something caught her eye.

She froze. 

You froze. 

“Where the hell is Nadia?” Felicia asked as Vi became fussy messing in her arms all over again. Your chest tightened as you scanned over the rioting crowd. Tightened painfully when you caught a flash of ruddy red hair disappearing within it. 

You rushed for her, leaving Sevika to curse and all but command Felicia to stay put as she ran after you. You didn’t slow as she called your name. Didn’t slow as you pushed and shoved through the crowd, hissing and snapping harshly at any who refused to move. 

Sevika shoved those who refused away with one arm easily, having caught up to you. The few that had all but glued their feet to the ground took one look at your menacing friend and moved before you could even get to them. 

“--see. Himerdinger himself selected my son to attend Piltover Preparatory School.” You heard Nadia’s accented voice before you saw her, but when you pushed through the last few bodies, you spotted her. She was shoving a gold detailed letter into the hands of an enforcer by a door closest to the tollhouse. It was the acceptance letter Viktor had received. 

The enforcers, who you recognized immediately to be Rufus, who should have retired years ago, nodded on a heavy sigh. 

“Five hundred.” He handed the letter back to Nadia who was quick to give it to Viktor, who was pulling lightly at the skirt of her dress shaking his head, looking like a small kid again. 

“We cannot affor--” Nadia cut him off with a fierce gaze. 

“You are going to that school.” She demanded, digging into her pockets for a small pouch full of coins. She fished out the correct amount and handed it to Rufus who nodded to another enforcer standing guard by the door to unlock it. 

“Nadia--” You called just as an enforcer stepped before you, keeping you back. You bared your teeth at him. “Move it.” But he only continued to shove you back, just as more enforcers came to shove others back. 

“You are going to work hard. And it will be hard, but you will do good things. Great things for this world.” You heard Nadia continue. You caught a glance at her, finding her on her knees before her son, holding his tear-streaked face and looking so proud. “Do not let them snuff out your spark. I love you, my little angel. Always remember that.” And you were shoved away just as she wrapped her son up in her arms for what might be the last time. 

You hit Sevika’s solid body, but she held you steady. She flashed you a smirk, gray eyes steady and full of that burning anger you all held before she shoved the enforcer back, his armor rattling violently as he fell to his ass. 

You used the opening to rush over the fallen officer toward Nadia, who was watching Viktor walk through the gate door, which slammed shut and locked behind him. He cast his mom one last look, who steadied him with an encouraging nod. You grabbed her arm as the enforcer Sevika knocked over shouted at you. 

“Why the fuck did you do that?” You asked, trying not to let your words bite seeing your friend’s eyes had turned all red and glossy. “You shouldn’t have paid that goddamn toll.”

“It is only money.” She started, almost fighting against you as you tried to pull her away from the fence. Her burnt gold eyes, which welled over onto her flushed cheeks, kept track of her son the whole time. “I would do anything for him. Anything.” 

Shouting grew more aggressive behind you. A sound that normally would have thrilled you, but with Nadia still in the heart of it all, it was dreadful. 

She couldn’t fight. Didn’t know how and could hardly pick a fish-filled crate up without help. She would only get caught in the crossfire of a fight like this. 

“Nadia--Nadia we have to go.” You insisted, tugging sharply at her arm. She allowed you to pull her closer. 

You turned and--

Boom. 

The sound echoed sharply through the air. 

The sound of a gunshot. 

People screamed and began to run around like chickens who’d had their heads cut off. You spotted the person who Felicia had stopped to question laying face first on the ground, red pooling beneath them. 

The enforcers who had fired looked just as terrified as everyone else, his gun shaking in his hands.

Rufus shoved past you both shouting orders at him and the others to not fire. 

Another gunshot sounded further down the line and that was when you held Nadia tight and sprinted toward Sevika. Sevika grabbed hold of your own arm and began dragging you back toward Felicia just as you were dragging Nadia. 

Another gunshot roared through the air. 

And then another. 

Nadia tripped, startled scream on her lips. You held her tight and continued to pull her along. 

You all just needed to get away. Far away from the enforcers and their need to quince their bloodthirst. 

Felicia was holding a screaming Vi tight to her chest, feet already moving as soon as she spotted you all. 

“That way. That way!” Sevika shouted to Felicia who turned the corner she was pointing at sharply. 

“The fucking brothels?!” Felicia shouted back. 

“Where the fuck else!” Sevika hissed.

“I can’t bring my kid in there!” Felicia called as Sevika wound the corner after her.

“Cover her eyes!” 

“I can’t--” Nadia called your name on a winded breath, “I can’t--” Her pace began to slow. 

“Just a little further, okay, and then we can sto--” But you felt Nadia drop to her knees just as you two turned the corner. Her weight growing so heavy it nearly pulled you down with her. 

A painful start hissed through your body when you found her on the ground, clutching at her shoulder and looking pale. Too pale even for her. 

Red splattered on her shaking fingertips. Red that had dripped here and there on the ground leading directly to your friend.

Rock bit into your knees as you rushed for her, flipping her onto her back to find the front of her dress soaked in blood. 

“Did--did he get across?” She sputtered, fear high in her eyes. Pain screwed her face up, tears never ceasing their fall from her eyes. 

“Sevika!” You screamed, grabbing for Nadia’s hand to pull it from her shoulder. She gave a scream that tore at your chest and made you hesitate. “It’s--it’s just your shoulder.” You tried to smooth, pressing your palm against the bleeding wound that only made her pain grow. “It’s fine--Sevika!” 

Water was in the blood. 

Water was yours to command yet blood never wanted to behave as nicely as water. Not even as nicely as alcohol which held more than less water in it than blood did. 

You’d never been able to control it. Never been able to slow the flow of it even from something as small as a paper cut. 

You tried anyway, squeezing your eyes shut and focusing on the water flowing within her blood. Willed it, begged it to halt just long enough for someone to come to patch her up.

Sevika cursed sharply when she came to your side but you kept focusing on your task. Kept pushing your power harder and harder even when it began to make your head spin. 

“V-Viktor--” Nadia gave a small sob. “Did--get--” Another sob that burned at your eyes. “Please.” 

“He did. He got across.” Your voice came out too wobbly. Too weak. 

“We gotta get her out of here.” Sevika’s voice sounded, her strong hands gently starting to pull you away. 

You let her, but kept your focus on your task. On wrangling her blood with your magic and pushing it back as if trying to reverse the flow of some powerful river. 

Nadia gave a brokenly pained cry as Sevika picked her up as gently as she could. You followed, vision beginning to dot the longer you pushed your magic to work on such a hard task. 

Black fuzzed through your eyes and the next thing you knew you were standing inside a dimly lit brothel. 

Black fuzzed at your eyes as you watched Sevika lay Nadia on a pillow-covered bed, an older Yordle assessing the damage. She turned her eyes onto Sevika looking all too grim.

Black fuzzed at your eyes and Vi’s screaming rang through your ears, loud and piercing. A hand grabbed your shoulder and you pushed it quickly off of you. 

Your magic snapped back into your body so hard it made you stumble backward out of the room you had been led into. You tried to summon it back but that fuzz turned into dull buzzing in your ears. Made your breath heavy and tight in your lungs. Made your stomach twist and your mouth fill with hot saliva like you might throw up. 

A few of the employees of the brothel you all barged into peeked their heads out of their rooms, eyes wide and some even filled with tears. They must have heard about what happened at the bridge. Must have seen you all rush in and known what had happened as soon as they spotted Nadia--Nadia--

Your stomach rolled just as your heart twisted like some old rag and your eyes blurred. 

You blinked and you were outside. 

Blinked and you were down the street. 

Blinked and you were looking at your shaking hands. 

Blood. Nadia’s blood. 

Oh gods oh gods. 

Gods. 

Where the fuck was Janna? 

Where was she? 

She was supposed to be the Lanes’ guardian spirit or some shit. Supposed to protect you all. Keep shit like this from happening to you all. 

And--and she’d just left. 

Left you all to suffer and die by the hands of Piltover who would never stop trying to take, take, take. They would take till their bellies were round and full and still their hunger would not be sated. 

Hands grabbed your arm, tugging at you. You shove whoever it was away. A shove that only made the person grab you tighter. 

You blinked and found it was an enforcer. Two. One shouted down the way for backup.

Your head spun. 

The effort from trying to use your powers on something as hard as blood made it hard to re-focus--to breathe. 

Before you could try to fight them off, a blur of red and gray flashed past you, attacking the enforcers for you. 

The sound of a blade zinging free and the gurgled sounds of a dying breath filled your ears as you staggered back, trying desperately to get yourself together. More screams. More sounds of death and soon someone was before you. Someone who was calling your name sharply. 

You tensed a bit when hands grabbed hold of your face, body readying to fight, but the feel of those hands. Of chilled, calloused, and scarred skin gave you pause. Had you blink and blink that fog away till you found Silco’s face there. 

He looked worried. Really worried. 

Worried for you. 

Only you. 

“Hey--hey are you hurt? Did they hurt you?” Fingers smooth over your skin, pulling your face closer and closer. You blinked again, eyes filling with liquid fire as you grabbed desperately for his hands. Hands that continued to hold you tight, to hold you so close you felt his forehead brush against yours. 

Out of all the touches and almost touches that had happened between you two your whole lives, this was the one you craved most. One you pressed into. One that had those tears you fought back rolling down your cheeks and over her fingers in hot streams. 

“Tell me--what happened? I heard about the bridge and--”

“Nadia--” Weak. Your voice sounded so weak in your ear and, even though you typically would have cringed at such weakness being shown, you didn’t care. Couldn’t care. Not when your friend could be dying. Not in front of Silco. “She’s--” 

Silco pulled you into his chest, arms wrapping around your body tightly and you just crumbled. Just completely broke down--snot and all. Sobs shook your body so violently you were sure they were shaking through Silco as well. 

But Silco didn’t pull away. Only held you tighter, like he might try to press you into him. Only smoothed his hands over your back and pressed his cheek against your head, keeping you almost completely surrounded by him.

“Silco!” It was Vander’s voice and Vander’s footfalls that were growing closer and closer. “Where are the other girls?” He asked, worry high in his voice. 

“Where is Felicia? Vi?” Connol sounded even more worried than Vander. As he should. His whole life had been at the bridge. His whole life could have been taken away in one fell swoop. You grabbed two fist fulls of Silco’s leather jacket, holding on for dear life as you fought to reign back your chest-aching sobs. As Connol all but hissed your name, trying to frantically stir you from your breaking. 

“Don’t.” Silco hissed right back at him, a hand coming to hold the back of your head as if to keep you shielded from your friend. “I saw her come out from the entertainment district. I would guess they are all there.” Silco had hardly finished his words before someone, most likely Connol, rushed off. 

“It's not safe here. We need to get out of view.” It was Benzo’s voice that spoke, the man sure to have joined them without a second thought. Silco was silent as his fingertips brushed over the back of your neck. Seemed to be waiting for you and for whenever you were ready, no matter the danger that lurked through the streets. You wrestled yourself to move, pulling slowly from Silco’s hold as you tried to bite down your weakness.

Silco let his hands linger on you. Let his hand brush over your cheek and over your shoulder, seafoam eyes scanning you over, looking for everything and anything that might be a harm to you. 

He took hold of your hand firmly like he was refusing to let you go again. You were glad for it. Glad for his support, even when tension between you had grown choking. Tensions that, in that moment, seemed to be forgotten.

Vander’s face hardened when his eyes took in your upset nature. Benzo’s eyes grew sullen.

You never cried. You’d come close, but you never cried. Especially in front of others. 

It was something Silco and Vander both knew. Something that was hardening Vander against the cruel reality that someone could be hurt. Someone could be dead. 

Hardened into that anger. 

The wolf paced behind those gray eyes. 

Was growing stronger and stronger, ready to be let loose upon the world. 

Sevika was right. He would agree to start the revolution you all had dreamed of now. 

Start a war. 

“Who?” Vander asked. Your lip trembled. 

“Nadia. I--I don’t know--” Silco’s body pressed closer to yours in a silent telling that you could lean on him. That he would be there for you no matter what. 

Vander nodded, beginning to head off in the direction Connol had run, Benzo quick on his heel. 

“It’s not safe out here. Let's go.” It was a command. One you wanted to follow but your body locked up against. 

Go? Go back to that brothel Nadia was laying in? Go back to that place and see her dying?

Silco’s hand pulled from your own only for it to wrap around your waist, pressing you into his side. 

“I’m here. I’m here with you.” He didn’t promise that Nadia would be okay. He couldn’t promise that. No one could. Not when they didn’t know any true doctors. Not when, even if it was just a shot to her shoulder, could be fatal if left unattended for long. 

But he did promise he was there. 

That he wouldn’t leave your side, no matter what. 

And it was enough to get your body moving back towards the entertainment district. 

The typically busy street looked like it had been abandoned. Looked like it was closed down for good. 

You led them to the brothel everyone was hold up in, finding Connol and Felicia sitting just in the entrance on a nest of pillows, a small group of workers cooing at Vi who was going up to each and grabbing for any shiny jewelry or pretty hair piece they wore. 

One of them rushed past you three and was quick to lock the door. And bolt lock it. And shove a plank of wood across its frame. She was just as quick to rush to stand before you all, giving a small bow of her head before rushing back off towards the back rooms. 

“Any word about Nadia?” Vander asked Connol and Felicia. 

“I was asked to leave the room because this little troublemaker was very upset,” Felicia spoke, a small smile pulling to her lips as Vi huffed her mom's way. “Sevika’s with her…it’s been quiet.” 

Your throat tightened. 

Your eyes burned. 

Your stomach rolled.

She wasn’t okay. She was dying. Dead. Laying in some brothel she would have blushed furiously at just from a glance in its direction.

“Let’s sit.” Silco calmly spoke to you. Only you. You nodded and let him pull you along. 

“I--I’m sorry.” You all but heaved out past your thick throat. Silco sat down on another little nest of pillows, gently sitting you down next to him. He didn’t pull his hand away from your waist, even when he no longer needed to guide you around like some lost dog. 

“You’ve done nothing you need to apologize for.” He calmly spoke again. 

This was the closest you’d been to him in a long, long time. The longest he’s touched you in a long, long time. 

And gods you had missed it. Gods you cursed yourself for being so stupid and stubborn. 

You moved the slightest bit so that your thigh was pressed firmly against his. So that you could look up at his face and take in all his sharp, handsome features. Look into those seafoam eyes he was already watching you carefully with. 

“I shouldn’t have--” Silco cut you off with a small shake of his head, knowing where you were going with this.

“You don’t--”

“I don’t want to fight anymore. Please. Can we--please.” You begged on a breath so that only he might be able to hear. 

This wasn’t something you really wanted to be doing in front of your friends. In front of strangers and in the heart of a brothel but you needed to say it. Needed to stop your fighting before something happened to you or worse, something happened to him. You wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if something horrible happened to him and you hadn’t at least tried to remedy it. 

Silco watched over your face for a long moment. A moment that only had your aching heart ache even more. 

Did he disagree? Did he not want to try and mend the hurts between you two? 

A small nod helped ease a bit of the ach in your chest. 

“I don’t want to fight either.” He breathed back, keeping his words just for you as you had for him. “I should be apologizing. The way I acted was immature and--”

“It was pretty childish.” Silco paused for a moment, slight surprise in his eyes at your teasing but you found the edge of his lips pull upward.

“I am in the middle of an apology here.” He huffed back. An amused huff. It made your lips tug at their corners. 

“Oh sorry. Go on.” You shifted a bit as if to get more comfortable. 

“You’re insufferable.” Silco shook his head at you. 

“Thank you.” You proudly said. Silco chuckled and you did the same, but your amusement faded out as pain spiked in your chest at everything that had happened. Your eyes scanned his face over once more, finding a bit of dirt smudged on his cheek from his work. They must have dropped everything and rushed from the mines when they heard what had happened.

Hesitantly, you brought your hand up to brush that bit of soot away and Silco didn’t shrug you away. He leaned into your touch, eyes almost fluttering closed at your skin on his. 

“I’m…I’m really terrified.” You breathed, eyes burning all over again. Silco nodded, cupping your hand within his, holding it against his cheek. 

“I know.” 

“What if…” Your voice broke and your lips trembled. “What if she dies? I’m…she was the first person to show me kindness and--” Your voice failed you then.

“Then…we’ll deal with it. Together. Head on. Just like we always do.” His thumb brushed over your knuckles in further comfort. A comfort you anchored yourself to. Let your eyes flutter closed and just breathe it in. 

Even when he hadn’t showered, he still managed to smell fresh. Like mist. Like a calm lake. 

His forehead pressed firmly against yours once more. You weren’t entirely sure who had moved closer, whether that be you or Silco, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was he was close to you again. Was telling you silently that he still cared for you. That he would always care for you and you silently told him the same. 

“Just because your friend was bleeding out all over my establishment doesn't mean you can fondle each other here without paying.” A rasping voice spoke, spooking you and Silco from the tender moment you had been sharing. Spooked you two so bad you pulled apart, finding the older Yordle walking into the center of the entrance room. 

The workers who had been cooing and playing cheerfully with Violet were quick to their feet at the Yordle's appearance. They rushed off, bowing their heads at you and your friends, and the Yordle before rushing back towards their rooms. She only shook her head at them.

“We weren’t--it wasn’t like that.” Silco started pink dusting over his cheeks in a way that had Felicia chuckle knowingly and you feeling all flustered as well. Benzo wasn’t as discrete with showing his amusement, all but bellowing out a laugh that nearly had him folding in half.

The Yordle took a long drag from her cigarette and blew the heavy smoke in a tight stream toward the ceiling a few moments later. 

“Boy, I work in a den of lust and love. I’ve seen it all and know what’s what.” Silco’s blush only grew deeper, his eyes glancing your way in his embarrassment of being singled out. 

And despite your own embarrassment, you could help the small chuckle that pfffted from your lips. One that only had that blush deepened, but tugged that easy smile you adored to his lips.

“How is she?” Vander cut in before anything else could be said. The Yordle leveled him with a look. 

“Babette.” Vander’s brows furrowed in slight confusion. 

“Uh--what---”

“My name is Babette.” Vander blinked, looking a bit lost for words. 

“Uh--Vander.” Babette nodded her head slowly, taking another long drag from her cigarette. 

“I know. People talk.” Vander gave a small exhale of breath just as she gave a release of smoke. 

“Babette,” Vander started, “How is our friend?”

“You’re lucky this is the place you barged into. I’ve been doing this job a long time now. Seen it all. Had to learn to patch up bullet and knife wounds alike. People think just because they are paying they can do whatever they wish. No manners.” Babette mused on a shake of her head, making you nervous all over again. “She’ll live.” You breathed a shuddering sigh in relief, Silco’s hand giving yours a squeeze. “But she’s weak. Will be weak for a long while. Such a small thing, that one.” 

You were quick to your feet, Silco following suit. “Thank you. What--how much do you want?” You asked. 

Between the six of you in the room now, you could probably scrooge up…seven…eight coins. Sevike would try to horde whatever she had on her, but she would add in another three or four coins. Probably only bronze…none of you would be carrying around any gold. 

“You couldn’t afford it, sweetness.” Babette purred, making you feel all flustered all over again. “All I want in return is for you to take a stand for us.” Babette’s eyes found Vander’s again. Found him and settled him with a hard, burning stare. Vander nodded at her.

You saw the wolf pace and pace, mawl dripping in hungry justice. 

“Thank you.” Babette gave a wave of her hand as she took another drag of her cigarette. 

You started for the backrooms, Silco still having yet to take his hand out of your and you found you could only be grateful for his continued support. More than grateful. 

Sevika leaned against the wall next to the door Nadia was behind, already watching you two walk towards her. “She’s sleeping.” Sevika huffed, eyes glancing down the hall to where more workers were peeking their heads out of their doors. They disappeared under her gaze, all except one who winked her way before popping back into her room. Sevika gave a smirk at this. “We gonna break their enforcers' skulls?” She asked, her gaze darkening as she looked at Silco. 

“More than break,” Silco spoke coolly.

“And if Vander chickens out again?” Sevika asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Would that make any difference now?” Sevika scoffed. 

“Nah.” 

“Good.” You…found you didn’t like this. Like this…this almost behind closed-door talk. Like Vander would give up on fighting for his friends. Like Vander would give up fighting for everyone. For freedom. 

He wouldn’t. It wouldn’t come to that.

But as you pulled out of Silco’s grip and made it into the room Nadia slept in, finding her looking all too weak, you almost didn’t believe your own thoughts. 

Part if you believed Vander would back out, if under the right circumstances. 

And Silco…you knew he never would. 

He would die before he gave up hope on the future of Zuan.

And you would be lying to yourself if you said it didn’t scare you. 

Your whole group made the journey from the entertainment district an hour later to safely bring Nadia back home, which was a tiny, run-down hole in the wall squished between and under other-like homes. It was a mess of all sorts of art and science supplies and half-finished projects. The space was cut roughly in half by a hung curtain, hand painted by Nadia with various swirling designs, to keep their makeshift bedroom separate.

Felicia and Connol, after double-checking to make sure Nadia would be alright, had headed home, their daughter having turned into a sleep-needing beast in Connol’s arms.

Sevika rummaged through Nadia’s small kitchen now, looking for any sort of alcohol she could get her hands on. When she started to shout back to Nadia about it, even when the woman was definitely not supposed to be roused in such a way, you excused yourself outside to find Silco. 

You found him sitting on a pile of crates and barrels near Nadia’s home, a half-smoked cigarette dangling from his fingers. Vander and Benzo had been out here a few minutes ago, standing beside him. You assumed they must have left, whether that be back to work or to The Last Drop. 

You weren’t sure and you didn’t entirely care in that moment, not when Silco's seafoam eyes found you before the door had even swung shut behind you. 

You made your way down the ramp Nikolai had built Viktor over top of the original steps there to make it just a little easier for his son to get home before you came to a stop a little ways before Silco. 

You held his gaze as he ran his hand through his hair, which he had allowed out of its usual bun to hang loosely around his shoulders in gentle waves. 

He held your gaze right back, offering his cigarette out to you. You carefully took it, only for him to grab hold of your wrist and yank you closer. Your heart spiked in your chest and began to beat erratically against your rips at the sudden movement. 

Neither pair of eyes left the other for a long moment. Neither of you moved. Neither of you wanted to move. Not when you were so close again. Not when you truly wanted to be even closer.

“How is she holding up?” Silco asked and you begged your heart to calm its wildness. 

“As fine as someone who's just been shot and sent their son off to live in the belly of the beast.” You murmured, pulling a nod from Silco.

“Alive. That’s what matters most. We’ll figure everything out. Head on.” He moved his legs so that they hung over the sides of the crate he was sitting on. So that his knees were on either side of your legs, brushing against them gently. 

“Together.” You agreed.

“Together.” He repeated, eyes dipping to glance at your lips. You moved closer now that he had created space for such a thing, the front of your thighs pressing into the edge of the crate and his thighs laying against them comfortably. You’re own eyes dipped almost greedily to look at his own lips. Lips you thought about too often…no--no, maybe didn’t think about them enough. 

“Thank you….for being there for me.” Silco gave your wrist still in his grip a gentle squeeze.

“No need for all that. I will always be there for you when you need me.” You felt warm ash from the cigarette you held fall over your fingers, but you dared not pull away from him. Not when you’d been away from him for so long. Not when you had missed his close friendship so dearly.

A long silence filled the space between you two. A silence that was familiar--warm, not the foully tense thing it had been for one too many years. 

“Would…” You started, your heart beginning to beat loudly in your chest again. Fear, anxiety, and flusteredness all tumbling about within it like some riptide. 

“Would…?” Silco questioned, eyes ever watchful yet so--so soft. A softness only you had never been allowed to see. A softness you had realized maybe too late was only ever for you. 

You hoped it wasn’t too late. 

You prayed it. 

“Would you…would you like to pretend that we’re back at my pool?” You spoke on a voice smaller than a whisper. A voice that was anything but full of all the nerves rolling about in you. 

Silco’s eyes widened the smallest bit at your question, his lips parting in the same smallness to show you a small flash of his chipped front teeth you loved to see. 

“What--but…I thought you didn’t want us to fight any longer?” He whispered back. 

“I don’t but…I was scared.” Silco’s brows furrowed in slight question. 

“Scared? Of--me?” 

“I--Felicia talked to me…after.” Silco nodded in understanding. After your fight in The Last Drop. He’d seen her rush after you. “She told me--well she said I should tell you why I ran away.” 

“Because you thought I was going to hurt you?” You gave a small huff through your nose as you brushed a bit of his dark hair behind his ear. An action that had that delicate blush spreading over his cheeks all over again. 

“Silco you could have anyone. You’ve had anyone. I just--I don’t want to be just anyone to you because…you’re not just anyone to me.” You rested your hand on his cheek, rubbing your thumb gently over his flushed skin.

“Anyone--” He said your name just as softly as he looked at you, “You aren’t just anyone to me. You’ve--you’ve never been just anyone to me. Why do…” He seemed to grow nervous then, eyes drooping slightly away from your own. “Why do you think I waited so long to…to try to kiss you.” Even though the last part was whispered, you heard it nonetheless. He shook his head slightly. “You are--are everything to me and I’m sorry you felt like you were anything less.” 

You moved your hand gently along his sharp cheek to find his chin, lifting it so that you might see those seafoam eyes of his you adored. Eyes that shone bright with such--such admiration for you in them. A look that had you forgetting all about the cigarette in your other hand. 

That horrid, nagging voice clawed at the back of your mind as it always did and always would. A voice that shouted at you all the things that could happen if you let yourself believe his words. A voice that wanted nothing more than to protect you from possible hurt, but it was also a voice that would only ever hold you back. 

And it was a voice shoved an iron-clad hand over to silence it. 

“Would you like to pretend?” You whispered again, letting your thumb brush just below the curve of his lower lip, which parted on a shaky inhale of breath. 

“I don’t want to pretend.” He whispered back, hand moving up from where he held your wrist to pull you closer. “Let’s just--face it. Head on.” You nodded, nose brushing against his. A brush that had your blood pounding right alongside the beat your heart had set. 

“Together?” Silco’s hand ended its journey, finding rest on your jaw. He guided you closer. So close you felt his breath ghost over your lips, sending a tingling flare through them. 

“Together.” He agreed, eyes flickering between yours and your lips. 

Waiting. He was waiting. 

He was nervous. Nervous you might run away again. Nerves that made your heart ache for him past its beating. 

You pushed closer, lips brushing against his, turning that tingling into a flame. A flame that roared into a blaze as you fit your lips against his like you would a cigarette. And just like a cigarette, his lips against yours filled your head with a pleasurable fog. Had your lips begging and begging for more. 

Silco inhaled deeply as he moved his lips against yours steadily, his other hand wrapping around your waist to pull you flush against him. You let him hold you, his strong--safe--hold only making your head spin faster and faster. 

Forehead rested against forehead as you two pulled apart, panting in shared air. 

A goofy grin spread over your kiss-puffed lips. A grin that pulled an equally as goofy smile to Silco’s own lips, turned near red from your kiss. 

“Was that--was that okay?” Silco asked on uneven breaths. You gave a small huff in amusement, running your fingers through his hair just like they had always itched to do. An action that had Silco’s eyes fluttering in utter enjoyment.

“I would have thrown you into the harbor if I hadn’t.” You teased, nuzzling your nose against his. 

“Good thing,” He started, nuzzling your nose right back. “‘Cause I can’t swim.” 

“You have to learn. Could save your life one day.” That soft look returned in full then as he looked over your face. A look that was full of such joy it only brought the same bright joy to you.

“Only if you teach me.” You nodded.

“Gladly.” And his lips seared into yours once more.

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[tuiccim]

Listen to Your Instructors (Part 2)

Pairing: Bi!Loki x Bi!Bucky Barnes x Female, Inexperienced Reader

Kinks: MMF Threesome. NSFW 18+. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 3.1K

A/N: Thank you to my beta princess @whisperlullaby

The following day in training, you’re glad that the soreness wasn’t obvious from last night's activities. It only showed when you went to kick another trainee during sparring and you winced as they blocked you. You were sure no one caught it, but towards the end of the session Bucky called you over to one side while Loki supervised the rest of the recruits.

“Is there a problem, Sergeant?” you ask nervously. 

“That’s what I’m trying to find out. Kick!” he holds his hands up and you react as trained and deliver with only a small wince. Bucky’s eyes narrow and he holds his hands up again, “Kick!”

You do as told with a small grunt of pain. Bucky’s stare is making you uneasy and you ask, “Is everything okay?”

“Why don’t we go into the athletic trainer’s room and let me take a look?” Bucky points to the open door. 

“Uh, sure, but I thought the trainer was out today.”

“I know what I’m doing, recruit.”

“Yes, sir,” you answer meekly and go through the door. 

“Lay face down on the table,” Bucky instructs. 

Butterflies erupt in your stomach as you comply with his instruction. You lick your lips as you tense with anticipation. When the warmth of his right hand presses gently into the small of your back you let out a small gasp. 

“Did that hurt?”

“No, sorry,” your mind is running wild wondering if Bucky was looking at you as a recruit or as a woman. A woman whose virginity he had taken the night before. A woman he had said he wanted more of. Or was that something all men said? 

“No need to apologize,” Bucky smirks above you as he slides both his hands to knead at your hips. “Any pain here?”

“N-no,” you whisper. God, if this is purely professional you might die. Your body is on fire and he’s barely touched you. 

“Speak up.”

“No,” you say louder. 

“Here?” his hands land on your calves and massage gently. 

“No,” you wonder why he skipped your thighs. Maybe this wasn’t a way to get you alone. 

“Here?” Bucky’s hands caress the backs of your thighs and you will yourself not to squirm under his touch. 

“No,” your voice trembles slightly at the intimate touch. He lingers a little longer than necessary or was that your imagination?

“Get on your hands and knees.”

You comply without a word. Your breath is ragged and you try desperately to get your heart to calm down. Bucky grabs your thighs and moves you so your knees are almost at the end of the table. 

“Good, straighten your left leg. Good, now your right. Any pain?”

“No, sir.”

Bucky moves to stand between your legs and places his hands on your hips again, “No pain in this area?”

“No.”

“How about here?” His thumbs trace the line between your leg and ass and then a little lower. 

You take a shuddering breath, “No, sir.”

“So, all the soreness must be stemming from here,” Bucky licks his lips as he traces two fingers along your covered slit. “Have you been doing any strenuous exercise lately?”

“Bucky!” you groan. 

“Shouldn’t that be Sergeant, recruit?” Bucky teases. 

“If it was I don’t think you’d be touching me like that,” you manage the small bit of sass. 

Bucky chuckles at your response, “That’s true, doll. Fuck, I’ve been hiding my hard-on remembering last night while watching you all morning.”

“You- you have?” you ask, you were soaked already yourself. Every time you had caught Bucky or Loki’s eye that morning, the pleasure of the night before had flooded back.

“Yes. Gotta get my mouth on you, doll,” Bucky says as he pulls your leggings down bringing a surprised gasp from you. His tongue is on you a second later. He licks a stripe from your clit to your cunt and then presses his tongue as deep as he can. He fucks you with his tongue, grabbing your hips to move you against him. 

“Bucky!” you gasp as pleasure ripples through you. “Is here- oh, fuck- a good idea?”

“Don’t give a fuck,” Bucky growls before going right back to what he was doing. 

The door suddenly opens, surprising both of you as Loki enters. You quickly jump down from the table and pull your leggings up. 

“I locked that,” Bucky says to you, as if defending himself.

“As if that could keep me out,” Loki laughs. “I knew what you were up to as soon as you called our little pet away. I just wish I was the one to do it. The other recruits are gone. Shall we take this somewhere a little less conspicuous?”

Bucky looks at you waiting for your answer. You look between him and Loki, “Uh, yeah. W-would you like to come to my room again? I, uh, I need a shower anyway.”

“Hmm, I think my room would be a better idea, pet. I have a nice big bed and a much larger shower than in the recruits’ quarters. Come,” Loki holds out a hand to you. 

You take Loki’s hand and turn back, “Bucky?”

Bucky smirks, “Don’t worry, doll. I’m not gonna let him have all the fun.”

The three of you make your way discreetly to Loki’s room. You survey it quickly. The room is much nicer than yours and has an opulence befitting the god. Loki follows your eyes to his very large bed and smirks, “You can test it out after our shower, pet.”

“It’ll definitely give us more room to move than mine did,” you laugh. 

“I thought we made it work pretty well, doll,” Bucky pulls your back against him. “You don’t regret it, do you?”

“Having my first time with two of the hottest men to ever walk the planet? Absolutely not,” you wink. 

“I’m a god,” Loki props your chin up with his long fingers and rubs his thumb over your bottom lip. 

Looking at him with doe eyes, you suck the tip of his thumb before replying, “That you are, my prince.”

Loki’s eyes smolder as he backs you into the bathroom, ripping your clothes off in the process. Bucky turns the shower on and undresses himself while watching you with a smirk. Loki has you naked and in a liplock while quickly discarding his own clothes. His cock is already at attention and Bucky can tell he’s planning on having first dibs tonight. As soon as the water is warm enough for you, Loki guides you into it and strokes your skin while watching the water cascade over your body. His hand wanders between your legs to find you thoroughly wet between Bucky’s earlier ministrations and the anticipation of what you knew these two would do to you. 

A wicked smile spreads across Loki’s face as he backs you to the shower wall and picks you up as if you weigh nothing. Despite his manhandling, he enters you slowly, cognizant that you may be sore. You let out a long moan as he presses in, enjoying each gentle motion he makes. 

“That’s it, pet. Let me hear you,” Loki encourages as his hips work faster. 

“Oh, fuck. It’s so good,” you whimper.

Bucky had sat back watching but seeing your face contorting in pleasure and Loki’s hips pulling such sweet sounds, he had maxed out his patience. Lubing his stiff cock, he steps into the shower and presses against Loki’s back. Bucky puts his lips against Loki’s ear, “You're hogging our little doll here, mischief. Guess I’ll just have to fuck you.” He nips Loki’s shoulder as he positions himself. 

“By all means, Sergeant. I don’t think our pet wil mind- Fuck!” Loki grunts as Bucky enters him. 

“You don’t mind, do you, doll?” Bucky grins as he steadily fucks Loki, pushing him into you with each thrust. 

“No, oh, fuck,” you whine. Your orgasm building with each motion. You were even more turned on realizing that the two men were lovers as well. There was no doubting the fact when it was obvious that Bucky knew Loki’s body well. He had reached around to flick at Loki’s nipples, pulling a moan from the god’s lips before moving to yours. He played with you both. His hands wander as his hips work. He kisses you over Loki’s shoulder, nips at Loki’s neck and encourages you to play with the god. 

“Clench around him. Let him feel you. He likes being the center of attention. Don’t ya, mischief?” Bucky teases.

“As much as you enjoy hiding in the shadows,” Loki sasses as he licks a stripe up your neck making you clench again. “Keep doing that, pet, and I won’t last long.”

“Are you talking to me or her?” Bucky smirks as he thrusts even deeper. 

“Ah! She’s pet, elskling,” Loki says with a smile for you. 

“Elskling?” Bucky chuckles. 

“A norse word,” Loki smirks over his shoulder. 

“Meaning?” You can’t help asking, drawing both their attention. 

“Darling,” Loki growls. 

“I’m sorry,” your eyes wide with fear that butting into their banter had caused annoyance. 

“No, pet,” Loki laughs lightly at your confusion, “Elskling means darling. And there is no need to apologize. I want to hear that beautiful voice.”

“I’m touched, mischief,” Bucky kisses Loki’s neck. “He can be sweet, can’t he, doll?” 

“Enough talk. Fuck us like you mean it,” Loki demands.

“Please,” you whimper. Your cunt is weeping and clenching around Loki, begging for more. 

Bucky pulls almost completely out and plunges back into Loki, causing him to buck into you even harder. Crying out, you hold on tighter while arching your back. Bucky grabs your head to pull you into a kiss as he thrusts. Loki presses against you tighter and sucks on the sensitive spot on your neck.

Bucky caresses and encourages you both to let go. “Come on, doll. Come all around Loki’s cock. He’s not gonna let go until you do and I’m not gonna until you both have. Don’t hold us up. We’ve been sporting hard-ons for you since we started with the recruits this morning. Hell, I don’t think mine’s gone down since you wrapped your sweet lips around it the first time.”

“I…I…fuck, I am,” you can barely get the words out as your body spasms.

“Good girl, good fucking girl,” Bucky groans as he makes quick, short strokes, knowing Loki must be close. “Your turn, mischief.”

“Please, my prince,” you whimper.

“Fuck, it’s good. This sweet cunt is squeezing me,” Loki moans as he loses himself inside you. 

Bucky grunts, biting down on Loki’s shoulder and staring into your eyes as he comes hard. You comb your fingers through his hair while watching him. You are still incredibly turned on and when Loki pulls out of you, you whimper at the loss. 

“Did we hurt you, pet?” Loki checks in. 

“No, not at all,” you reassure him. 

“Good,” Bucky says as he extricates himself from Loki. He pulls you into the spray of the shower and chuckles as he sees the marks on your back. “You can see the pattern of the tiles in your skin,” he says, ghosting his lips over your shoulder. 

“Worth it,” you smile at him. 

“Let’s get cleaned up,” Loki says as he takes up the soap.

You take turns covering each other in suds, washing hair, and touching as much as possible. It was thrilling, intimate, and all new for you. You kept reminding yourself that this was just a situationship. An opportunity to learn your body and the pleasure you could give and receive. With the way they treated you, you could find yourself having feelings you shouldn’t. You would let yourself care for them but you had to be careful. 

While these reminders had run through your head, your two lovers had rinsed the last of the suds from your bodies. Loki guides you out of the shower and a green glimmer shines over you both. You find yourself completely dry and smile at the display of magic. 

“That’s-” you begin but are cut off. 

“Really, mischief?” Bucky stands just behind you still thoroughly wet. 

“I thought you hated magic, Sergeant,” Loki smirks. 

Seeing an opportunity, you grab a towel and turn to Bucky, “Well, if Loki won’t help, I certainly can.” You begin drying his chest while looking at him with wide eyes. 

Bucky’s eyes slip past you for a quick, gloating look at Loki before returning to you, “Such a sweet, little doll. I definitely need a thorough toweling off-”

Bucky shimmers green and stands before you completely dry. Your lips twist and you bite down on your lip to keep from laughing out loud as a small feeling of triumph at having played the god overtook you. Bucky narrows his eyes as he looks over at Loki. 

“Well, that chore is done,” Loki says as he steps towards you, hand outstretched to pull you to him. Bucky was having none of it and swooped in to throw you over his shoulder.

“Oh! Bucky! What?” You cry as he strides to the door. 

“He’s had enough of your attention, doll. I’m feeling a little neglected,” Bucky teases as he takes a playful bite out of your hip. 

“Oh! Yes, sir. I apolog-IZE!” You squeal the last syllable as you're thrown on the bed. Looking up at him with wide eyes, you scoot yourself back and ask breathlessly, “How can I make it up to you?”

“You’re going to sit on my face while you suck my cock,” Bucky crawls towards you. 

“Uh…oh, y-yes, sir,” you stammer as any bravado you had previously gained deserted you. Your lack of experience rushed back into your mind making you incredibly nervous at the foreign request. “I’m not sure what, how, um…”

“You’ve scared her, elskling,” Loki’s voice trills.

“It’s okay, doll. Come here,” Bucky lays down and positions you to straddle his face but loses his own composure and dives in without thought. His tongue finds that sensitive nub immediately making you cry out and buck against his face. He clamps his arms around your thighs to hold you in place, losing himself completely in your taste. 

Loki sniggers as he steps closer, “See how desirable you are, pet? He’s already lost in you.” He wraps a hand around the back of your neck and watches as your face contorts in pleasure. “I’ll help you. Lean down,” Loki guides you forward. He strokes Bucky’s cock and holds it in position, “Now wrap those sweet lips around him. Can you do it, pet? Are you going to be able to suck him off while he’s pleasuring you? Or is it too much for you?”

“I can take it,” you whisper before taking Bucky in your mouth. You swirl your tongue around his head and try to ignore the pleasure that rolls through you. Deciding to concentrate on Bucky’s pleasure, you begin sucking him in earnest. 

“Such a brave girl. So, you think you can take it? You think you can make him come for you? Can you ignore all those dirty things he’s doing to you and make him come before you do? Tell me, pet.” Loki pulls you away for just a moment. 

“I can do it,” you say before redoubling your efforts. 

Loki snickers before whispering, “But can you do it with two of us pleasuring you?”

You can’t think of what he means. You have to concentrate on sucking Bucky’s cock. God, he was so thick and your tongue was loving the feel of his silky length, but he was eating you for all you were worth. Pleasure rolled through you and no amount of squirming was bringing any freedom or relief from the onslaught. You lost your concentration momentarily when you felt a second set of hands grasp your ass but got it back quickly when you realized it was Loki trying to distract you from your dictate. It was when his absolutely wicked tongue buried itself in your ass that you lost it entirely. You choke on Bucky’s cock and let out a sinful moan around it. Fuck, the god was trying to break you and he had found a tantilizing, new sensation to do it with. You had never imagined such a depraved act that could bring so much pleasure and certainly never experienced it. 

Your pussy begins to flutter, a sure sign that an orgasm was impending and you couldn’t let it happen. You tighten your muscles, willing yourself to concentrate on Bucky’s cock and ignore the mind-blowing act that the two were performing on you. Balancing yourself carefully, you reach a hand to cup Bucky’s balls, rolling them gently in your hand. You concentrate your efforts on bringing him as much pleasure as possible. You employ your lips, tongue, and even graze your teeth lightly to excite him. You know you’re getting somewhere when he lets out a groan against your clit. Gently, you maneuver a finger to massage his prostate and are rewarded by Bucky’s hips jerking. You repeat the motion in time with each slide down his cock and it doesn’t take many more strokes of your tongue before he growls against you. You feel the spurts down your throat and have to fight your gag reflex from the angle but manage to successfully swallow. 

Your concentration on Bucky’s cock is interrupted when a smack lands on your ass. 

“Good girl. Your turn,” Loki growls before resuming his duties. He and Bucky both work their tongues over you. You grip Bucky, grounding yourself as they take you higher. The pleasure that you had managed to push to the back of your mind came back to the forefront in full force. Your cunt ached with need and began fluttering almost immediately. When you came, you screamed. There was no way you could stop yourself. Your whole body spasmed and you writhed as wave after wave hit you. As soon as it began to recede, another wave would hit. It just kept going and as it crested once again, you gave a hoarse cry and blacked out. 

You came to a few seconds later but the two men were hovering over you with worried looks. Loki’s cool hand was caressing your forehead.

“Holy fuck,” you whispered, looking up at the two with a smile. “That, wow.” You blink a few times, take a deep breath, and manage to concentrate on them. You reach for Loki. “I believe it’s your turn, my prince.”

They both chuckle at your enthusiasm. 

“I think it’s time for a break, doll. You need some water and food,” Bucky says, kissing you on the cheek. 

“You more than proved yourself, pet. We know you can take it but it’s also our job to take good care of you. I’ll order some food,” Loki helps you sit up and hands you a bottle of water. 

“Pizza?” You ask hopefully. 

“Sounds like a plan to me,” Bucky agrees.

“Midgardians,” Loki says with a roll of his eyes.

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[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for @qwertynerd97 behind the cut. If I had a nickel for every time an unethical billionaire cloned the superhero archnemesis he's obsessed with, I'd have two nickels. Which is not a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

They really do get to Amity in, like, surprisingly good time, all things considered? At least Tucker’s surprised, anyway. If nothing else he would’ve expected a random ghost attack he’d have to teach Superboy how to fight ghosts really quickly during to happen, given . . . literally everything about his entire life since the age of fourteen, pretty much. Or maybe a supervillain or something, since Superboy’s in the mix right now and all. 

Mind, Tucker definitely did go over how ghosts work and all on the flight over and also during they two convenience store snack/pee/walk breaks they took, since he would personally like to avoid the demi-Kryptonian whose DNA he desperately needs free access to getting overshadowed. And also, like, it’s just a dick move to take anybody to Amity Park without mentioning the ghosts and how to deal with them. 

There are just . . . so many ghosts. So many. 

So, so many.

Superboy hopefully actually listened to at least most of the “Amity Park: Ghosts, Spirits, & Not Getting Your Ass Spectrally Kicked By Either 101” speech and didn’t just tune him the frick out for infodumping on him too hard and talking his ear off, but it at least seemed like he was listening? Like, he asked some questions and stuff and seemed to be following along okay, more or less? Mostly? 

Tucker really, really hopes Superboy listened to the ghost speech. 

“Okay, so like, avoid anybody too glowy for right now, maybe?” Tucker says as Superboy lets him down on the sidewalk just down the block from FentonWorks, which Superboy is currently squinting through his sunglasses at. Which, like–fair, Tucker figures. Definitely fair. “As in let me deal with anybody too glowy for right now, that’s probably just for the best right now. Like I’ll tell you who’s cool and who I’m gonna have to soup and who we need to flee from in a blind panic, yeah?” 

“‘Soup’?” Superboy repeats skeptically. 

“Thermos thing,” Tucker clarifies. “Remember the Thermos thing? We call it souping, sometimes. Also I mentioned we need to not say anything whatsoever to Danny’s parents, right, like I definitely mentioned that being a thing?” 

“Seven times,” Superboy says. “One of which was a seventeen-minute rant about their shitty tech skills.” 

“They don’t test! They don’t even have any basic safety protocols in place!” Tucker hisses. “Literally they got one of their kids literally killed via a portal to the Infinite Realms with no safety locks on it and didn’t even notice! Like I’m not this liminal because the Fentons have safety locks or literally any basic shielding or food safety knowledge! Which, on that note, don’t eat anything they offer you, if they offer you anything. Probably they won’t, they’re not really the type to think about basic human needs or general human politeness, but yeah.” 

“Yeah, I’m still not clear on the whole ‘liminal’ thing,” Superboy says. “The liminal thing is confusing.” 

“So are literally our entire lives,” Tucker replies frankly, making a mental note to get him a mini-primer or something. Maybe some notes or a spreadsheet. Like just whatever Superboy can brush up on while they’re poking at his DNA or whatever, basically. There is no such thing as knowing too much about ghosts, as far as he’s concerned. “So anyway, yeah, just lemme take the lead with the Fentons. Actually any Fentons? Just–let me take the lead in general, for right now. Like–uh. Please?” 

Probably Superboy is not gonna be down with that, actually, because he’s–actually Tucker’s not sure, is he an emancipated minor, or . . . ? Like, dude makes his own money, obviously, and he does his hero work solo, plus it’s not like he called any parent/guardian about leaving Hawaii on basically a whim, so . . . yeahhhhh. 

“I’m down with that,” Superboy says with an easy shrug, spreading his hands. “Your stomping grounds, man, not mine.” 

Tucker stares blankly at him for a moment, then decides not to look that gift poltergeist in the mouth. 

“Cool,” he says. “Uh–thanks. Uh–this way?” 

“Oh yeah?” Superboy asks, cocking an eyebrow at Fentonworks’ whole . . . Fentonworks-ness as he looks at it over the top of his sunglasses. Tucker boils in embarrassment, and also boils in renewed bewilderment about how pretty this dude’s eyes are. Just–pretty. So pretty. Tucker just came out to rescue Danny’s clone-sister/daughter/cousin and he is honestly feeling so attacked right now? “Good thing I sprung for the local tour guide.” 

“In my defense, this town is so much weirder than you know,” Tucker says. “Just–so much weirder.” 

“There’s this eternal party in space I just go to whenever I’m bored,” Superboy says. “Got a teleport thing that takes me, it’s kinda sick.” 

“. . . okay so your opinion of ‘weird’ is not universal, is what I’m hearing here,” Tucker says after a moment. Danny would friggin’ love that, if they weren’t all freaking out about Dani right now. 

“That’s what they tell me,” Superboy replies with another easy shrug. 

“I’m definitely making the mistake of assuming you’re a normie, yeah,” Tucker says, which is definitely a mistake he keeps making, for whatever reason. Probably, like, habit from interacting with literally every other living being he’s encountered in his life up until two years ago, he guesses. “Alright, yeah anyway, Fenton parents, threat level . . . orange, I’d say? Like not full red, but we’re getting there. So, uh–follow my lead, and please don’t maim them if they try to net you. Or shoot you. Or shoot you with a net, that’s also a–uh. Yeah.” 

He spares a moment to suffer in mortification over the way Superboy’s pushed his glasses up into his hair to squint at him, then flees–strategically retreats–towards FentonWorks. 

It is just very clearly time to strategically retreat, is all. 

Or, uh, time to figure out how to handle Danny’s parents, Tucker mentally amends with a wince as he gets close enough to see their stupid van haphazardly “parked” more on the sidewalk than the street. Parts of it are actively smoking; the rest is dripping bubbling ecto. 

“Trippy,” Superboy muses, floating up a few feet to peer over the top of his sunglasses at the top of the van. Tucker dives forward and automatically grabbing the guy in an attempt to yank him down out of the air before anyone mistakes him for a ghost. They very much do not have time for that right now, especially right outside the Fentons’ place. 

Unfortunately, his yank less yanks Superboy down than it yanks himself up, which is officially the closest he’s ever gotten to doing a pull-up, so he guesses that’s cool or whatever, but also not helpful. 

“Did I mention how you shouldn’t fly around here?” Tucker asks, maybe a little bit dangling off Superboy’s waist right now. Like, just a tiny little sort-of bit. “Because if I did not, that was a serious oversight on my part. So, uh, please come back down here, dude.” 

“Says the dude who’s climbed up here,” Superboy snorts, but does, mercifully, actually settle back down on the sidewalk. 

“I would not describe that as ‘climbing’ so much as ‘failing’, but you do you,” Tucker says. “C’mon, we’re going in. Try to look, uh . . . less like a superhero.” 

“I am literally incapable of that one, buddy,” Superboy says dryly, raising an eyebrow at him. “On account of how they made me in the literal exact image of the superhero.” 

“. . . yeah alright, that wasn’t a fair ask,” Tucker admits with another wince. Well–Danny’s parents aren’t that observant when they’ve got a distraction distracting them, and obviously they need distracted, so . . . it’ll probably be fine? Probably? 

. . . . . . maybe they should just sneak in Danny’s bedroom window, actually. Maybe that would be the smarter play right now.