#(Never know when you need to cut something like rope... or a person)

[subbmissivesuccubus]

Thinking of Uzui and Rengoku falling in love with you at first sight.

They're out on a mission, several demons sighted at a village and the number was so high they needed multiple people to come and fix the problem. Of course, it was a cake walk for the two of them. Their weapons flashing under the moonlight as it cut through the necks of their enemies like butter, demon after demon falling to their blade.

Despite the task being easy, it still took a few hours so by the time the job was done, they were a bit tuckered out. Every demon was slain- or so they thought.

A demon burst from the rubble, it's sharp claws aiming for Rengoku's face. It was too fast, neither of the Hashira able to react in time as the demon was but a centimeter away from clawing Rengoku's eyes out when you showed up.

Using your breath of Thunder, you cracked through the air like a lightning strike, covering ground within seconds as you managed to cut off the demon's arm before cutting its head off, saving your senior of any injury.

You put away your weapon as the demon disintegrated in front of you, bowing down respectfully to the two pillars, a ranking you hoped to reach one day. They recognized you, having seen you out and about before but this was the first time they'd seen you in action.

Both of their hearts skipped a beat. Beautiful, talented and powerful woman was a plenty within the demon slayer corporation but there was something about you that was just...different. Perhaps it was your kind heart in helping the wounded. Perhaps it was the confidence you carried yourself with. Perhaps it was because you were just too darn cute. But whatever the reason may be, they were enamored by you and couldn't keep their eyes off of you.

Once you helped the others in cleaning up and getting the wounded the help they need, you went back to the two Hashira who were strangely dazed.

"I shall get going now." you reported with a bow, "I'm glad I could be of service."

"Marry me." both of them said simultaneously.

"...huh?"

Thinking of Uzui and Rengoku roping you into sexual escapades as a form of 'training'

You had rejected their marriage proposal, stating that while you respected them, you didn't know them personally and didn't want a husband(s) that you weren't fond of.

They were respectful of that, stating that a great way to get to know each other would be through training. You thought it was unbelievable that two Hashira's were interested enough in you to take time of their schedules to train with you, much less want to marry you, but you decided to agree. Learning from the best would be an invaluable experience, afterall.

"I-I- thought you said we were gonna t-train!" You squealed, tossing your head back against the pillow as Uzui slid a second finger inside you, your pussy gushing around him.

You could barely recollect how you got here, a room in an inn, at the mercy of your two seniors. Your mind was a jumbled mess as their hands and lips attacked your body, hungry kisses against your neck while stripping you of your uniform. Time seemed to go by fast yet slow at the same time, eventually ending up on a bed with Rengoku sucking your breasts while Uzui made himself familiar with your pussy.

"It is training." the sound Hashira said with a smirk, curling his fingers inside you just right, making you gasp. He stuffed his fingers of his other hand into your mouth, making you choke.

"This is to help your technique." he said, "Control yourself and focus on your breathing."

As he said that, Rengoku's lips left your nipple, leaving it a saliva covered stiff bud before moving down and taking your clit into his mouth, making you scream around Uzui's fingers. Your body shook from the pleasure, never having experienced this before.

You knew their claim that this was for training was complete bullshit but dammit- you couldn't bring yourself to care.

Uzui was so deliciously huge compared to you. He was twice your size, his muscular body enveloping you completely as he toyed with your body with ease. His bulging muscles and washboard abs made you drool, your eyes wandering to his nether regions, pussy growing wetter when you saw a big bulge straining against his pants.

Rengoku ran hot, literally. His touch made you shiver as he ran his warm hands over your body, a comforting contrast to the way his hot tongue was assaulting your clit. He sucked on it like a candy, flicking it around before giving it a gentle nibble, making you squeal. With a physique just as impressive as Uzui's, his bright eyes filled with passion and desire made you feel dizzy.

"Focus." Uzui said with a click of his tongue, pushing his fingers further down your throat, making you gag, "you're getting distracted."

'I can't help it!' You tried to defend, but what came out was a bunch of gurgles and gags, unable to say anything.

"If you can't handle this," Rengoku said, giving your clit a sweet kiss before he straightened himself up, "what will you do if a demon attacks you and tries to choke you?"

"Exactly~" Uzui cooed, starting to move his fingers in and out of your throat, a slower rhythm from what he was doing to your cunt, "Bring your breathing under control and maybe, we'll let you cum~"

[cautotelic]

Chapter 1: Tough Love

Ambessa Medarda x Reader

Synopsis: When you get taken away from your home land and thrown into the palace of the infamous warlord, will things be as bad as they first seemed?

TWs: past abuse, scars

A/N: this is my first time writing a fic so please let me know what you think of it, most likely this will be a series.

The rough material of the sack on my head rubs uncomfortably against my cheek. Pressed into the floors, my knees ache from what feels like hours of kneeling in the same position. I shift in discomfort and my wrists once again rub against the rope tightly bound around my hands, no doubt already bloody and bruised like the rest of me. The sound of approaching footsteps makes me flinch as they echo in the space. With a precise and calculated gait whomever has entered makes their way from behind me to stand in front of me. 

In an instant the sack is pulled from atop my head. The brightness of the room causes my gaze to drop to the marble floor as I blink my eyes into adjusting. My eyes find a pair of boots and my eyes follow the person's body to their face. When I meet her eyes my breathing stops and I tense up immediately, looking down quickly. 

“When Remu asked what I wanted in return for promising not to wage war on him, I asked for his best legionnaire. Little did I know,” she chuckles as she looks down at me. “That he would send his own kin.”

I let out a soft chuckle. “Well my father isn’t exactly known for his outstanding morals, now is he?” Glancing up at her, her expression is as solid as rock, but her eyes tell me all I need to know: pity and something else I can’t place… empathy?

“I suppose not…” she says lowly. I see her footsteps approaching before her hand is on my chin, forcing my head up. Her eyes run over my face as she twists her hand from side to side, moving my head with it. 

Her thumb gently comes up to touch at a cut on my cheekbone when I jerking my chin from her hand and glaring up at her. “Don’t touch me,” I spit out defiantly.

Her eyebrows lift with shock and her hand hovers where my face once was before she scolds her expression and moves her hands behind her back. With her head raised she exudes power.

“Take her to her quarters. Ensure that she is bathed, fed, and that no one bothers her.” She orders to the guard standing behind me. I watch her walk past me and before exiting the room she pauses. “You will start training after your injuries are healed.”

•••

“You’ve got to be kidding me, I’m not doing this,” I say as I fold my arms over my chest as I look down at the warriors training in the open arena.

“I find it funny you think you have a choice,” the man, Rictus, says from beside me halfheartedly. Despite my situation, he’s one of the only people I tolerate in this place, other than the lady that brings my food every day.

My eyes scan the sweating bodies below. “Ha ha, very funny. I’ve never taught anybody anything before, how exactly am I supposed to do this.” I ask.

He shrugs. “That's up to you but General Ambessa asked for your father's best legionnaire because of how much experience you have in combat, so she trusts you whatever you teach.”

“Well she seems to have a lot of trust in someone she’s only met once in the month I’ve been here,” I quip. In the month that I’ve been in Noxus, I’ve only seen glimpses of the warlord I now know as Ambessa, which is fine with me. 

I sigh and begin walking down the stairs that lead to the floor of the arena. I move quietly and fluidly through the groups of people and make my way to the weapons racks on the stone walls. I grab a bamboo staff from the wall before turning around to face the people. Raising the staff into the air, I knock it back and hit the gong hanging from the top of the wall. 

The ringing echoes in the large space and easily gets everyone’s attention. With all eyes on me now I clear my throat nervously before moving to the center of the crowd. 

“Where I come from is of no importance to you but I am a legionnaire and I was brought here in exchange for Noxus not going to war with my home country,” I say as I pace slowly back and forth. 

I hear murmurs of chatter at the mention of my title but continue on. “The first lesson you learn from me is how to disperse a shadow reaper. Shadow reapers are beings of pure darkness that can be summoned by legionaries. These beings are extremely powerful, incredibly agile, and will kill you without hesitation,” I say as I flick my wrist.

Nothing happens at first, but then slowly inky black wisps start seeping from the walls and from under doors to collectively join next to me. From the bottom up a figure appears and I see most of the warriors visibly pale. I smile to myself.

"This is a shadow reaper,” I say as I begin to circle the reaper. “Now, from all my knowledge there's no real way to kill a shadow reaper but you can temporarily get rid of them.”

Taking my staff I side swing it and quickly glide it through the reaper's neck, effectively dismissing it. “Easy but you must remember to hit them directly at their neck or they won’t go away like that.” I say as I come to a complete stop in front of all the warriors. “Who wants to go first?”

•••

After all the soldiers have had a chance to both disperse and spar with a shadow reaper, with almost little to no critique, they were naturals. I sit on the training mats alone, Rictus cleaning up the area and putting the weapons back where they belong on the racks. I use my staff to get up from the ground before looking over towards him. “Spar with me?” I ask.

He laughs and doesn’t turn around to face me as he speaks. “No thank you. The General would kill me if I layed a land on you,” he says matter of factly.

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh? Well tell your General, that I don’t need her protection…”

“You just did.” 

“Did wha-“

“I see you’ve found the energy to train,” I hear a voice say from behind me. “And an attitude.”  I turn around and see the General standing at the entrance to the training arena.

I look her up and down noting her casual lounge wear, a stark contrast to her armor that she wore when I last saw her. I hum in response. “Is that a problem?” I ask her defensively.

She chuckles lowly. “Is it? Lest I remind you it is I who determines if you live or die.” 

I roll my tongue on the inside of my cheek. “I hate you, I really do,” I say as I go to exit the arena. When I go to pass by her, she grabs my arm firmly but not enough to hurt.

“How have you been sleeping, little one?” I freeze at her words, keeping my eyes forward. “That’s what I thought. Try talking to me again when you finally get some sleep,” she says before releasing my arm roughly. As I make my way out of the room I shove my shoulder against her.

I walk down the gilded corridor. Regal portraits line the walls as I make my way back to my room. The sun is low on the horizon as I close the door to my room. Despite everything, Ambessa has been very generous with my accommodations and I can applaud that. I make my way to the bathroom and turn on the shower before stripping out of my clothes. I close my eyes as the water flows over me, having it turned to the hottest setting. 

I start thinking to myself of what I would be doing if I were back home and I cringe at the idea. Since I’ve arrived here I haven’t been able to maintain my regular routine, even my brother's routine beatings have been replaced by me standing in this shower with burning water just to feel something. When the skin of my arm starts to hurt to the touch, I switch off the water and dry myself off. 

I throw on a tank top and some loose pants before climbing into bed for yet another sleepless night.

•••

I wake up frantically looking around as I scoot back until my back hits the headboard. My breathing is out of control and I hear screaming and only realize it’s me when someone suddenly enters my room. 

“Ma’am are you-“ 

“Get out!” I yell. No one can see you like this, they’ll think your weak.

“We can help you, just tell us what you need,” the lady, part of the night shift, says.

“I said GET OUT.” I reach my hand over to the nightstand and grab the vase before throwing it towards the door. 

The lady quickly shuts the door and the vase shatters as it makes contact with the door. I tuck my knees to my chest and sob, deep, guttural, sobs. I rock myself back and forth as images of my dream come surfacing back. Wire cords lashing against my back. The smell of blood, the taste of my own tears, the silence I had to keep to stay out of more pain.

When morning comes I don’t move. The lady that brings my meals comes and goes, the food going untouched the whole day. As night falls again I finally decide to leave my room. Grabbing my thin shawl from a chair I quietly make my way out of my room. I roamed the hallways for what seems like forever before finally finding where I wanted to be, the kitchen. 

I grabbed a pot and began making my favorite dish growing up that my mom used to make for me. As I cook I let my shawl fall to rest at my elbows as my tense shoulders relax. When the food is almost done I give it a quick taste before covering it and letting it simmer for a while longer. 

“Well this is a sight to see.” I hear from behind me. I turn around and lean back against the counter and see Ambessa leaning against the doorway to the kitchen with a small smirk on her face. I roll my eyes and say nothing. 

“Quiet game again?” She presses with a sigh. “You weren’t at your training today. And while I have been courteous in giving you time to adjust, I won’t tolerate laziness and insolence.”

Her gaze on me causes me to squirm and I readjust my shawl to cover the expanse of my back. This doesn’t go unnoticed by her. “I really must say though, your stubbornness is getting… frustrating.”

I chuckle at this. “Well I grew up knowing that stubbornness can be a survival tactic and I was not in the right headspace today, so forgive me if I needed a moment to myself,” I say as I look at her, really look at her. For the first time since I’ve met her, in the moonlit kitchen, I notice her eyes aren’t just brown but almost hazel. How her scars actually add to the uniqueness of her face. Makes me wonder how she got those scars.

I hear her let out a laugh across from me and I'm snapped out of my thoughts. I said that out loud. I feel my face grow warm but if she notices, she doesn’t comment on it.

“If I tell you one of mine, will you tell me one of yours?” She asks.

I already know which one of mine she’s going to ask about but I still proceed. “Fine.” I agree.

She hums in surprise. “Which one do you want to know about?” I look over her exposed skin and my eyes land on a scar near her neck. 

“The one on your neck,” I say softly.

“When I was younger I was challenged for my throne. Big burly man, looked more like a were-person than a man really.” I let out a chuckle at this and her eyes meet mine for a split second before I drop my gaze to the floor. She continues. “Nearly took my head off. Had me pinned to the floor with this big axe against my throat, started cutting in. But clearly I won that fight as I’m still here,” she says.

I nod at this and huff. “Which one do you want to know about?” I ask.

Her eyes scan me up and down as she moves further into the kitchen, not coming incredibly close to me but closer than before, the kitchen island separating us. She comes forward and leans her hands on the counter. “The one on your back.”

I sigh and close my eyes for a minute to gain some composure. “When I was 10, I forgot what it was exactly I did, probably something normal for a child to do, I got in trouble. And my father being the man he is, had to make an example out of me. Since I was a legionnaire I was always in the public eye and so when I got in trouble my father wanted to show our people that this behavior wouldn’t be tolerated. Not even by his own daughter.” Lifting my gaze off the kitchen floor I spare a glance at Ambessa. Her expression conveys nothing about how she’s feeling, but its clear she's hanging on to every word I speak.

I turn my back to her, go back to stirring my food, and start talking again. “He dragged me to the town square, tied my hands to this big pole at the center, and whipped me in front of everyone. All to prove a point.” I say as calmly as I can without my voice shaking. “Twenty lashes across my back, my shirt split open by the third. I can still remember the smell of my own blood, how much of it there was…”

Somehow without me hearing her Ambessa had come up behind me. I didn't realize my hands were shaking until her much bigger ones reached around me and took the wooden spoon out of my hands and placed it down on the counter. I chuckle lightly as I brace my hands against the counter in front of me.

“You know the funny part is after he was finished and I was nearly about to pass out, he told me it was for my own good. That it was my fault…” I say quietly. I feel Ambessa gently place her hand on my upper bicep and I shrug her touch off. “Don’t touch me, I don’t need you pity.” I say as I turn off the stove and move away from her, going to get a bowl. 

“From these few interactions that we have had I’ve learned a lot about you,” she says matter of factly.

“I tell you one insignificant part of my life and you think you know me…” I open the cabinet and reach for a bowl. Silently I make the decision to grab two.

“But it isn’t insignificant, is it? Not to you anyway. You think about that moment a lot. Probably flipping it over and over in your mind trying to decide for yourself if you deserved it or not. Am I close?” She challenges as she leans back against the kitchen island.

“Not even close.” I pour the soup into the two bowls.

She hums in acknowledgment. “I doubt that. It can also correlate to your adverse reactions to physical touch. I have two theories for this one: it’s either you just really hate me or-“ she takes the bowl out of my hand before spinning me around to face her. “You just won’t allow yourself to feel something other than pain.”

“The first option,” I respond as I roll my eyes and brace my hands on the counter behind me.

She lets out a laugh at this. “Oh really, because…” she trails off as she leans in close to me. So impossibly close, closer than anyone’s been in a long time. “I think it’s the second.” Her lips nearly brush against the shell on my ear as she speaks to me. 

Her hand finds my hand and I flinch from the contact, but she presses on. She runs the pads of her fingers up my arm slowly, tentatively like she’s waiting for me to push her away. Her hand comes up and gently cups my jaw. She looks at me with indifference but her eyes are asking a silent question, I nod my head ever so slightly. 

She leans back in and starts to slowly trail feather-like kisses from my jaw to my neck. My eyes flutter shut as I press my lips together. She uses her hand on my jaw to tilt my head to give herself more access. The hand not on my jaw finds its way to my waist as she presses me closer to her. To steady myself I hesitantly place my hands on her chest, her muscles tensing and relaxing under my touch. 

When she gently nips as a spot right below my ear I let out a small whimper. I feel her chuckle against my skin. “Breathe, child.”

Her words are what snap me out of my stupor. Using my hands that are on her chest, I push her back roughly. “You let that go on far longer than I thought you would,” she says with that smug ass smirk on her face.

I regain my breathing, rolling my tongue on the inside of my cheek. “Do that again and I’ll kill you,” I hissed as I grabbed the two bowls of soup, shoving one in her hands before putting distance between the two of us. “Eat the soup don’t eat the soup, I don’t fucking care. Leave me alone.”                 

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Imperfect Couple - 14

Character: politician!Bucky x ex-wife!reader

Summary: A separated couple must pretend to be happily married while the husband runs for Vice President, dealing with old issues and political pressures during his election campaign.

Warning: The couple's arguments could be triggering.

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

"Darling, I appreciate your faith in me," Bucky said, his voice low as he stepped closer, eyes searching yours. "But…I still want to live."

You didn’t flinch. "I’m serious."

He paused, letting the weight of your words settle. "Just because I told you about Steve doesn’t mean I’m going to stab him in the back."

His gaze dropped for a moment, conflicted. Steve was more than just a mentor—he was the older brother Bucky had always wanted, someone he had looked up to for years. Shawn was never that. Steve had been there when he needed guidance, someone to show him the ropes. But now… now everything felt twisted.

"I didn’t know before this election," Bucky continued, his jaw clenched. "I’ve learned things that should’ve been obvious to me. And now, you probably see me as a coward for turning a blind eye all this time."

He swallowed hard. "But that doesn’t mean I’m going to stay silent forever."

Your brow furrowed as the room fell into silence. Bucky reached out, his hand settling firmly on your shoulder, his touch both grounding and electrifying. "There’s a time for everything. Please, believe in me."

His voice held a plea you hadn’t heard before, and suddenly, you remembered what the priest once said: Timing. It all felt too coincidental. You could see the puzzle coming together in your mind, but the picture was far from complete.

“Fuck,” you muttered under your breath, realization hitting you like a wave. “He picked you because he knew you wouldn’t say no to him. You’d follow his lead without question.”

Bucky’s face hardened, but there was something unreadable in his eyes, a mix of frustration and guilt. He opened his mouth, then closed it, unsure of how to respond.

“And our divorce?” you added, the words sharper than intended. “It was all part of the plan. To tarnish your image, while he hides his own cracks."

Bucky took a step closer, the tension between you two thick enough to cut. His voice was steady but soft. "For now, please stay quiet about what you’ve found. This could ruin both of us. Or do you want Edgar and Brock to win instead?”

You shook your head, biting your lip. "This is so fucked up. There’s only two candidates."

Bucky's lips quirked into a wry smile. "Hey… we’re not that bad."

"Don’t campaign in front of me," you said, narrowing your eyes, but the hint of a smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. The tension between you was undeniable, the heat rising in the small space as you tried to keep things civil.

He chuckled softly, the sound low and teasing, but he didn’t push any further. His gaze lingered on you for a moment longer than necessary, as if he was fighting some inner battle to keep his distance. Then, with a heavy sigh, he turned away, letting the moment pass.

That night, sleep was impossible. Nate slept peacefully beside you, his small body curled into yours for warmth. But your mind raced, replaying every conversation, every hidden piece of the puzzle that had yet to be uncovered. You needed help, someone with answers. But who?

Then, it hit you. The perfect person. Someone who could get you the information you needed, though asking them for help would open old wounds.

He’s going to hate me for this, you thought, your chest tightening at the idea.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

Ian stood near the check-in counter at the airport, casually scrolling through his phone as he waited in line. Just as he was about to move forward, his phone buzzed. He glanced at the screen—Greg.

"Follow me," Greg's voice said on the other end, no further explanation given.

Ian's brow furrowed slightly, but he complied, stepping out of the line and trailing Greg down a series of quiet corridors. They finally reached a private room, and Ian’s eyes immediately found you sitting there, alone.

He glanced around the room as if expecting someone else. "I’m by myself," you assured him, noticing his brief scan of the area.

Ian folded his arms, his tone cool as he tilted his head slightly. "What honor do I get to have this meeting?"

You met his gaze, trying to keep steady, though the weight of the situation made your heart race. "I know you hate me," you said softly, not beating around the bush.

"More like at your soon-to-be husband," Ian shot back, his gaze flickering with barely concealed disdain.

You straightened in your seat, squaring your shoulders. "Whatever the Barnes family has done, I won’t defend them," you said, a quiet resolve in your voice.

Ian narrowed his eyes, reading the tension in your body. "You must be desperate to come to me."

A small, nervous laugh escaped your lips as you looked down at your hands, fingers fidgeting slightly. "I am."

He sighed, rubbing his hand over his face, the lines of old memories creeping in. This felt too much like the past when you both used to dig into dangerous territory. "Just tell me what this is about. I’ve got a flight to catch."

You took a steadying breath, locking eyes with him. "Do you remember the article I wrote? Deals in the Dark: Inside the Global Conspiracy Threatening Economic Stability?"

He nodded, curiosity flickering behind his otherwise guarded expression.

"I think I’ve found someone involved in that conspiracy." Your voice was low, every word heavy with the truth you'd been holding back.

Ian’s face hardened, eyes searching yours. "Who?" he asked, his tone more serious now.

You hesitated for just a second. "It’s Steve."

Ian's eyes widened, and for a moment, the tension between you both disappeared. "Whoa…"

You nodded grimly. "We need to watch out for him. I’m starting to see how deep his connections run. There are scandals tied to him—things you wouldn't expect."

Ian crossed his arms, his expression growing more serious. "Is this about his sons?"

You flinched slightly, your heart skipping a beat. He couldn’t know about Nate. You prayed he didn’t. "What do you mean?" you asked, keeping your voice steady.

"My friend was writing a piece on Steve’s twin sons. They’re apparently bullies at their school, leaders of a gang. But before the article could go to print, the entire office lost power. Threats were made, just like when we published Deals in the Dark."

Your stomach tightened. It made sense now why you always felt uneasy around Steve's sons. You wanted to feel shocked, but it only confirmed what you’d been sensing all along.

Ian smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes. "This is getting interesting. I’ll dig deeper, see what I can find."

He turned to leave, but you stood, calling after him, "Ian."

He paused, looking over his shoulder.

"Be careful," you said, your voice soft, almost pleading.

Ian gave a small, crooked smile and nodded. He took a last look at you, he felt that, this might be the last time he'd see you.

🌸🌸🌸🌸

Back at Bucky’s apartment, Nate sat on the couch, holding his phone up for a FaceTime call. Hazel's face appeared on the screen, still in Paris, her voice warm and comforting despite the distance.

“I miss you, Mommy,” Nate said softly, his eyes wide with longing.

“I miss you too, baby,” Hazel replied with a tender smile, her expression softening as she spoke to her son.

After a moment, Hazel’s tone shifted. “Baby, can you give the phone to your uncle for a sec?”

Nate nodded, handing the phone to Bucky. “Here.”

Bucky took the phone, glancing briefly at Nate before turning his focus to Hazel. “When are you coming back?” he asked, a bit more urgency in his voice than he intended.

“Not until the election is over,” Hazel replied matter-of-factly.

Bucky’s jaw tightened. “Seriously?”

“It’s for the best,” Hazel added with a sigh, her gaze flickering briefly before she continued, “Please watch over him while I’m gone.”

Before Bucky could respond, the FaceTime call ended, the screen going dark. He stared at the blank phone for a moment, lost in thought.

He knew Hazel had her reasons for staying away, but it still didn’t sit right with him. Nate needed his mom, and even though he was doing his best, Bucky couldn't shake the feeling that things were spiraling beyond his control. Watching over Nate wasn’t the issue—it was everything else that came with it.

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Across town, Steve Rogers stood in a dimly lit room, facing a massive window that stretched from floor to ceiling. The city lights glowed faintly outside, reflecting off the glass as he stared into the distance, his hands resting in his pockets. His phone buzzed on the nearby table. He glanced at it, seeing the text message he’d ignored for hours: When are you coming back?

Unread. No reply.

Steve’s jaw clenched as he turned back to the window, his mind running over the countless decisions he had made in the last few months. The weight of the campaign, his connections, and now…this.

Knock, knock.

A sharp sound broke through the silence. His eyes flickered towards the door. “Come in,” he said, his voice low.

The door opened, and Natasha stepped inside, her expression as serious as always. “We’ve got another notification,” she said, her eyes locking with his as she handed him a folder.

Steve sighed, feeling the tension crawl up his spine. “What is it this time?”

“It’s about the twins,” Natasha explained, her tone clipped and efficient. “We tracked the IP address involved.” She handed him the information.

Steve took the folder, scanning the contents briefly before a smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I should’ve known,” he muttered with a dry chuckle, shaking his head.

Without another word, he pulled out his phone and dialed a number. As he waited for the line to connect, he leaned against the window, the cold glass pressing against his back. When the call picked up, his voice was calm but determined.

“Can we meet?”

🌸🌸🌸🌸

Bucky arrived at the golf course as soon as he received Steve’s call. The air was crisp, and the sun was barely cutting through the clouds, casting a muted light over the manicured greens. As Bucky approached, Steve was already mid-swing, the soft thwack of the golf club meeting the ball echoed in the quiet morning.

Steve didn’t turn around, eyes following the ball as it soared across the field. “Bucky, you know why I want to be President, right?” His tone was calm, but there was an underlying sharpness to it.

“Yes,” Bucky replied, his expression unreadable as he stood a few feet away, watching Steve with his hands in his pockets.

“We’re this close to winning,” Steve said, setting up for another swing, his movements precise, controlled. He took the shot, the ball cutting clean through the air. “One mistake could ruin us. Our rivals will use any kind of ammo to tear down our image.” His voice lowered with emphasis, a hint of menace lingering in his words.

Bucky stayed silent, but his mind was working. He knew Steve had meticulously planned every step, had considered every angle. Steve’s obsession with maintaining a perfect image wasn’t new. He had a way of knowing when someone so much as whispered behind his back.

Even the online comments rarely escaped his notice. Bucky suspected Stark Technology had something to do with that. Howard Stark, Steve’s long-time friend and the campaign’s biggest sponsor, had deep resources. It wasn’t hard to believe that some of those resources were being used to monitor any potential threats.

Just as Bucky was deep in thought, his phone buzzed. It was a message from Natasha. He opened it, his eyes narrowing as he scanned the contents. His hand clenched around the paper as he saw the name: Ian.

Steve took another swing, his voice calm but laced with tension. “This lackey of Edgar and Brock is persistent.”

Bucky folded the paper and stuffed it into his jacket pocket, his jaw tightening. “I’ve made sure to shut him down.”

Steve sighed, shaking his head as he lowered his club. “But you’re still too soft.” He walked towards Bucky, each step deliberate, his gaze unflinching. Reaching him, Steve lifted the golf club he’d been holding, pointing it at Bucky with a steady hand.

“I’ve cheated death a couple of times to get here,” Steve said quietly, the weight of his words settling between them. His eyes were cold, calculating. “I’ve sacrificed so much. I won’t let anything stop me.”

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[taro-bae]

AHH Your work on a figure skater reader was so beautiful and well-written! I went to watch a circus show recently, and the trapeze act was stunning, so could I request the same Twisted Wonderland in your figure skating post with a reader who is really good at trapeze acts, but doesn’t work at a circus? Thank you so much, and at the time of requesting this, your forehead kisses post just went up, and I would also like to say that it was so good too! Thank you again! 🫶

I absolutely love this request!

I'll add Floyd to this one, he's such a menace to society.

TrapezeArtist!Reader x TWST

Summary: They find out reader is good at trapeze acts but isn't part of a troup.

Characters: Riddle Rosehearts, Azul Ashengrotto, Floyd Leech, Vil Schoenheit

Notes: gender neutral, set in readers room with ariel trapeze equipment, I adapted some scenarios to other ariel acts (Lyra for Vils), no warnings

Riddle────

Housewarden Riddle was checking over Heartslabyul making sure everything is to standards and rules. After his duties he decided to see how you're doing. He makes his way to your dorm his heels clicking against the ground. When he arrives at your dorm bedroom he knocks on the door wondering if you're there right now. He hears sounds coming from inside the room and some light music playing in the background. He opens the door carefully, "y/n, I-", he cuts himself off when he sees you hanging on a longish bar that's supported by two ropes that are attached to the ceiling of your room.

He's speechless watching you perform a flexible hold while you're high off the floor. He's never seen anything like it before, he knew there are people who do such things but he's never seen it in person (take him to the circus). He watches you as you hold onto the bar with your knees, while your body is hanging off in an arch. You swiftly change your grip back to your arms and come down. He stays silent for a solid minute, he takes notice that the clothes you are wearing currently show alot of skin, obviously to help grip the bar and not slip but nevertheless.

"Are you sure that's safe?", he's concerned for your safety considering you are doing this in a normal room with noone to spot. You ensure him you are trained and know what you are doing, as well as the steady condition of your equipment. He glances over the bar and the other alternative equipment you have, it's clear you are well trained. "So are you part of a circus crew perhaps?" He asks out of curiosity. He is suprised to hear that your are not and you do this as a hobby. He can understand the fitness side of it to maintain good strength and health but why do something so risky just for a hobby.

He hears your explanation that you simply enjoy doing it and that you're confident in your abilities, also that it gives you a sense of thrill and adrenaline. He supports of your trapeze skills but can't help but worry over your safety.

"Could you explain how that...hold...works?" He wants to understand your interests better and is fascinated his eyes sparkling slightly like a kid in a candy store.

Take this boy to a circus he needs to experience some joy in his life!

Azul────

Azul enters your dorm room wanting to share some new deal offer ideas with you. He pauses when he sees you on the trapeze bars swinging to press yourself up into a static pose later. His reaction is confusion.

He is constantly impressed by the possibilities of the human body, the strength and flexitime you have to move your body in such ways let alone off the floor on a suspended bar. He stands at the door holding the handle watching you with his mouth agape trying to blabber out some form of a sentence. He's rather flustered seeing your flexibility and how you carry yourself with incredible control. "You're even more incredible than I gave you credit for" He stutters out.

Regaining his composure he interrogates you on your practice and training background. He is already scheming plans for you on how you can profit off this. He offers you an opportunity to perform at Mostro Lounge, "not only can you demonstrate your talent, but it will bring in more customers", he wants to show you off while also help advertise his totally not shady business too.

He is going on a rant about the perks and benefits this would bring while also complimenting your abilities his mouth running faster than his heart beat as he pushes his glasses up to his eyes. You sit on the bar listening to his ramble, weather you agree or not is up to you (do it, he wants to watch you do that everyday for the rest of his life)

Floyd

Two words - Good Luck

Floyd bursts through your door exclaiming a loud "shrimpyyyyy~", atleast he didn't kick your door open this time. You are mid way through a skill when he comes in slightly startling you you manage to keep yourself steady despite the small scare at the sudden intrusion. Floyd's grin only grows as his eyes widen seeing the bar and ropes set up. "Little shrimpy! You're a little monkey now, huh" he comes closer his tall stature meeting your eyeline.

He does not care if you're on a bar right now, he comes closer giving you a tight squeeze. "I missed you shrimpy~" He lifts you up hugging you very, very tightly, "Are you like a circus monkey~" he laughs as he teases you. He's interested when you tell him you don't belong to a circus group and just do this for yourself.

Before you can finish, his eyes look at the bar mischievously "I wanna try!" He moves you out of the way gripping onto the bar swinging around trying to climb it. "This is fun!" He's shining on it like a child while you're trying to warn him to get down before he hurts himself. His response is "You're no fun~", pouting at you.

He gets bored eventually getting down, but beware now that he knows you have trapeze bars in your room he's going to visit more often. He really likes this about you he is intrigued by the way you move and perform those tricks, he is definitely bragging to Azul and Jade about this.

Vil

He's very knowledgeable about performance arts and finding out you are a trapeze artist piqued his interest.

He walks in on you suspended off the floor in your room as you hold onto a hoop performing a transition into a horizontal split. He admires your flexibility and endurance, and the fact you are doing this without any cables. He trusts your skills and capabilities in maintaining your safety. He observes you silently his hand near his chin, he admires your form and the shapes you create with your body and the hoop.

"Splendid, dear." He speaks up. "The way you hold yourself is beautiful". He takes in your outfit, the tight clothing that highlights your body shape and the showing skin near you arms, legs and back that helps you hold on the hoop.

He questions weather you're part of a studio or a circus crew, when he finds out you're not he does offer promoting your skills. He sees so much potential in you, wanting you to improve. Being the influential celebrity he could help you make a name for yourself if you are willing.

Vil is interested in seeing what else you can do, asking about the pose names and how they are performed, appreciating the aesthetic lines you body creates complimentary to the hoop. If you do something like a back balance he does get a little nervous concerned over your safety but trusts that you are well trained and won't fall.

"You don't stop surprising me, do you?" He smiles genuinely feeling pride and admiration for you.

♡♡♡

[san8ny]

robber ellie falling in love with victim reader😭

Something.

?: tried experimenting with angst / Older!Divorced!Reader x Younger!Robber!Ellie / Bi!Reader

“and you decided on here of all places?” You ask for what seems like the hundredth time, cleaver in your hold waving in the air all too closely for Ellie’s liking.

“Fuck— yes, lady, like I said, I just get paid to do this shit.” She groans, struggling against the ropes you had her embraced in, “What kind of knots even are these?..”

“Now, i’ve never really had to use this up until now..”

She feels her eyes widen, color draining from her face at the implication, “Woah! H-hey, you wouldn’t need to. We can find a compromise—

“You tried stealing my father’s urn.

Ellie’s winces at the weight of your words, her soiled plan gone to waste, “I thought it was a regular vase.. but— but with that being said, I didn’t succeed so you don’t need to be so brutal! Eh?‘Whaddya say?”

You stare at her for a rather long time before taking the knife and inching it towards her,

Ellie’s entire body tenses up, teeth clenching and her eyes shutting to prep for her seemingly inevitable demise—

Instead, you lightly poke her chest with the knife experimentally, “You’ve got like, no boobs.”

“WHAT THE FUCK? O-oh my god, you’re a pervert..”

“You’re in my house.”

“THAT DOESN’T JUSTIFY IT!”

“Back on topic! Why my place?”

“Needed the cash, how else?” She spits, gaze still never meeting yours fully

“That bad?”

“Wouldn’t be robbing people if I didn’t, would I?” She snaps aggressively, though it was expected

“You know, you should be nicer to me.” You say, reaching over back for your knife threateningly. She seems to quiet down at that, relaxing her shoulders as she obediently nods,

“I think i’d rather you just call the police at this poin, lady..” Ellie whispers, not having the willpower to deal with your manical interrogations, “My dad is sick, alright? He’s on the verge of dying, and I need that money for his treatment. Content now?”

After a brief pause, you speak up,

“Tell you what, you give me proof of this.. and I might be graceful enough to do something for you.” You thumb her bangs, separating each strand to reveal the glistening beads of sweat that pool at her auburn hairline.

“Huh, why?” Her head raises at your all-too gracious proposal, what exactly were you playing at? Pay the person trying to rob you? It’s laughable.

“Well..” you tilt your head, “You’re interesting”

Eventually, you do let her go, informing her of an easier way out than she came in. However, a deep pit in her stomach tells her she’d had been safer with cops than with whatever you were.

The following week, she’s being put to absolute work once she’d validated her father’s bills with you— from scrubbing floors to literally helping you wash your hair in that stupidly huge bathtub you have— she wants to hate you. no, she does! She hates you with every fiber in her. So, why does she feel so strongly opposed to seeing you interact with your husband everytime he’s back from his job? Maybe she hates him too? Yeah, that must be! Ellie hates everything to do with you by proxy, including your husband.

“Have you ever considered marriage, Eleanor?” You ask out of the blue, politely cutting your steak as you two sit across from each other at the dinner table, your husband not being present, per usual, not like he ever is. “My name is Ellie, not..whatever that is.”

You grin at her response, “Aren’t you too old to be going by a nickname though? Especially one as infantile as Ellie? It sounds like a pet-name if i’m being honest.”

She feels a vein threatening to pop as she points her fork at you, “Well, it’s my name so either call me it or not.”

There it is. The way you stare at her even when she’s slightly out of line. It’s a mixture of both amusement and surprise. Like she was some sort of entertainment for you.

“Ellie it is.” You softly say, smiling as you chew your food.

She hates the way it rolls off your tongue smoothly, no sign of condescension in it despite your previous words.

She hates how she feels something else stirring other than supposed hatred.

The other time she’s noticed this odd-feeling of hers rear it’s ugly head, was when you two had visited a bath-house, you stripping with ease as you walk the small steps they have before relaxing into the steamy water. Ellie stands there awkwardly, watching as you let your hair-bun down, all stress exiting your body once the sensations of the water settle around you.

“Well, aren’t you joining me, Ellie?”

She bites her bottom lip in an anxious fashion, almost fighting herself whether or not she’d let herself get that close to you. Regardless, one overpowers the other so she, like you, quickly sheds her clothing, stepping into the pool experimentally, however, she maintains a moderate space inbetween you two, careful not to ever let her body even touch a bristle of hair on yours.

Facing across from you, she studies the way your eyes are closed, soft crows feet at the corners— you were only 31 as she learnt, and already seemed so tired of the life you lived, having to run an entire estate while your— fuck, she couldn’t even recall his name— husband, ran business elsewhere. Ellie saw and took care of you more than she’d ever seen him done. I mean, what did you even see in him— ..what is she saying?

At the realization, she turns her gaze away from your face, eyes instead busying themselves with the small ripples the water makes.

“You never answered my answer.”

She doesn’t seem to want to avert her gaze from the water just yet, but speaks, “I don’t answer alot of the questions you ask if you haven’t noticed.”

“So will you answer one if I ask now?”

“Why should I?” She scoffs at your bluntness, if she didn’t want to answer a question, it’s not like you’d force it out of her.

“I see.” You say, before standing up to dry yourself off with a towel. At this, Ellie seems alarmed. What happened? Why’d you leave so suddenly? Why— why does she seem to care recently more than she’d like?

A reasonable amount of time had passed since the bathhouse, and you seemed to forget about it reasonably quicker. Almost immediately, actually. Currently, you were hauled up in your study while Ellie sweeped the hallway flooring. Upon arrival to your door, she’s met with a quick ‘I’d like to be alone, thank you!’ She rolls her eyes, knocking again. When ignored again, she opts for a 3rd time, before you open the door in irritation, “What— Oh, it’s you, Ellie! Hello!”

“Yes, yes, it’s me, can I come in? I have to tidy up this room before I can clock it for the night.” She says briefly, attempting to enter the room before you block her way with a nervous smile, “I don’t think this room is obligatory, you can just skip it and leave.”

“Uh, no, I’d like to it now rather than have it pile up tomorrow.”

“That’s really not necessary, I mean it, i’ll clean it even.” You try one last time of persuasion. However, this earns you a blank state and an occasional eye-twitch.

Sighing, you step to the side, “If you insist..”

Ellie looks around as you return to your desk, massaging your temples as you seem focused on a slight-stack of documents. I mean, she hadn’t seen you this stressed since the time you were told the oak-tree in the grand-garden had to be cut down because the neighbors were complaining about it obstructing sunlight to their meek vegtable plants. You went though with it, with the help of Ellie’s shoulder and a couple of shirts she had to run through each time you soaked them with your tears.

“I thought you said you had an accountant for taxing?” she asks, dusting the bookshelves, “I do,” You say, biting the cap of your pen as you twirl yourself in the swivel-chair, “these are divorce papers.”

It’s almost like time itself stops when those words dawn on Ellie. You’re..divorcing whatshisname? It’s like a fever dream. Almost surreal. Sure, you two never seemed all that in-love but you had your moments like when you’d kiss his cheek before he departs for whatever country he had shit to do in, I mean, that’s..romantic, right?

“12 years i’ll never get back down the drain. This, is why I ask you if you’d ever marry. Could you ever dedicate your life to another for it to be wasted like this?” You snap your fingers to signify time, bitterly laughing at Ellie’s solemn expression, “Don’t look at me like that, I liked you better than the others because we mutually agreed not to pity eachother.”

There it is, that feeling she faces when these moments spring up on her.

It’s not pity, it’s more like understanding where you’re coming from— but that’d be sympathy. Ellie doesn’t feel quite sympathetic about it, I mean, rich people don’t exactly feel that anyways but, she wants you to be the exception. You’re not like whatever the bunch are. You don’t frequent country clubs and you don’t go seeking elaborate affairs to spice your life. You’re an unsatisfied woman.

“I was young, you know? When my family heard of the marriage, they immediately called me mentally unwell— his family? Even worse. Guess what they immediately came to as reasoning? Witchcraft. It’s comical, isn’t? Me using spells to make a man of all things want me. If I did that, i’d be with Christian Bale, I tell ‘ya! I should’ve taken my signs then when he wouldn’t defend me, but I chalked it up to his fear of confrontation. ” You share, sipping your tea, “Older Men do nothing but leech off your youth. Don’t be like me, Ellie.”

“I won’t.” She finally says, though her throat tightens up, making her voice extra quivery rather than the assertion she was going for.

“Oh dear, don’t tell me my cautionary tale scared you?”

“No! No! It didn’t. I was just wondering, does your rule .. also apply to women?”

A brow is raised in response to the question, “I’d say so, though it’s a more common practice among that accursed other gender.” You kid, smiling. Ellie’s lips slightly pull into their own smile, her worrying expression now relaxing when she thinks you hadn’t caught onto her words yet.

“Do you like older women?”

At that question, Ellie feels the embarrassment return double the amount, slightly ruffling her short hair as she feels the hotness reach her cheeks, “I’m indifferent.”

Ah.

You look out the window before looking at your ring, “I don’t suppose your answer is supposed to imply dual-affection?”

She sighs, continuing to sweep, “I only like women, miss.”

…

“I suppose a women as a lover would be nice.”

Ellie’s heart races at this, is..this an opening? What exactly were you trying to do by saying this?

“Have you ever been with one, Ellie?” You tease lightly

Oh, how she wished the ground would swallow her whole.

After a brief pausing to catch both her breath and recollection of thoughts “..No, ma’am.”

“Want me to be your first?”

How this turnt into many illustrious nights with Ellie warming your the bed had become something both of you couldn’t come with an answer for other transactional sex.

How scandalous would this be if it got out? A well known older, recent divorcee seeking comfort in the arms of her 20 something year old house-hand. It would only intensify rumors, not that you ever cared, but..

“I won’t let you ruin yourself.” You softly whisper, sweeping a light tucking of hair behind her ear, “You’re too sweet for your own good, Ellie..”

That night, while Ellie slumbers, you pull together her seemingly last paycheck, wads of cash together into an envelope that could easily total above 20,000 as you place them near her pillow.

When she does awake, she’s brought to the empty idea of you, slot next to her feeling cold and empty. Where did you go?

Instead of a verbal answer, she’s given one in the form of payment and a brief letter:

‘Will be enough for your father’s bill. Collect your stuff at once and leave.’

Even when she does leave— she says nothing, catching a glimpse of you sat on the stump of the old oak-tree in what seems to be deep thought.

As per usual, Ellie’s last to saying everything

“Anyone could have seen she wasn’t in the right of mind.” The elderly ladies exchange amongst themselves, “I just didn’t expect it to be in such bad taste. Nobody is going to buy that home.’

Ellie’s fingertips brush against the ‘SELLING HOME’ sign they’ve posted up, the other 20 she’s ran off with clearly not stopping the process of this house being sold.

How long has it been since you left her behind again?

[imthebadguyyy]

Iron Hearts

With the same fire and charm that runs in the Stark bloodline, you’ve never been one to fade into the background.

pairing : steve rogers x reader fandom : mcu synopsis : As Tony Stark’s younger sister, you’ve always shared his brilliance and bold personality. Outgoing, witty, and never afraid to speak your mind, you’re just as comfortable stealing the spotlight as your brother is. But when Tony ropes you into joining the Avengers' operations after the Chitauri invasion, the last thing you expect is to clash with Captain America, Steve Rogers—a man so different from the fast-paced world you’re used to. Steve’s stoic, old-fashioned values collide with your free-spirited nature, sparking a connection that’s as electric as it is infuriating. As the Avengers face new threats, you and Steve find yourselves drawn together in unexpected ways, each challenge bringing you closer. The world is always in need of saving—but will the Iron legacy and a shielded heart leave room for something more?

EPISODE 1 : COLLIDE

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The low hum of machinery filled your private lab, a familiar and soothing backdrop to the glow of various monitors and the holographic interface suspended above your desk. You were in your element here—surrounded by sleek gadgets, circuits, and blueprints only you understood. The soft, sterile light of the fluorescent bulbs bathed everything in a cool hue, making the outside world feel distant, almost irrelevant. Your hands moved with practiced precision, making the final tweaks to your latest invention—something sleek, cutting-edge, and powerful. It was not for public eyes, least of all Tony’s. Let him bask in the glory of his Iron Man suits and his public heroism. You preferred working in the shadows, away from the spotlight. After all, the real power came from the things people didn’t see.

Just as you were about to run another test, FRIDAY’s calm, computerized voice broke the silence. “Incoming call—Tony Stark.”

You let out a small, exasperated sigh, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Of course Tony would interrupt now, just when you were getting into the groove. Without breaking your stride, you gestured toward the nearest screen, signaling FRIDAY to patch the call through.

Tony’s face flickered to life on the screen, his usual cocky grin already plastered across his face. He looked annoyingly well-rested for someone who constantly threw himself into world-saving chaos.

“Hey, sis. Got a minute?” His tone was casual, but you could see the mischievous glint in his eyes. Tony always had an ulterior motive.

“Not for you,” you shot back, though your lips twitched with a slight smile. You’d perfected the art of giving Tony a hard time over the years. “What do you need, Tony?”

“Can’t a brother call to check on his favorite sibling?” He leaned back in his chair, looking entirely too pleased with himself.

You raised an eyebrow, feigning indifference. “We both know I’m your only sibling.”

“Touché,” he admitted, chuckling softly. "But seriously, I need you."

You froze momentarily, your hand hovering over the interface. Tony rarely outright asked for help, and when he did, you knew it was big. Slowly, you leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest as you gave him your full attention.

“I need my secret weapon,” Tony added, his voice dropping to that tone he used when he really wanted something.

You blinked at him, skeptical. “Secret weapon? Tony, I’m not about to be your backup tech support.”

Tony grinned, undeterred by your resistance. "This isn’t just tech support. It’s big. New team, new mission, bigger stakes. And who better to help me keep this bunch in line than you?"

You hesitated, glancing at the half-finished prototype on your desk. For years, you’d operated under the radar, happy to let Tony soak up the limelight. Being his sister came with a certain level of scrutiny you’d avoided like the plague. You preferred the quiet. The idea of stepping into the Avengers' world—especially now—seemed chaotic at best.

“I’m not suiting up, if that’s what you’re thinking,” you finally said, narrowing your eyes at him. The last thing you needed was to get dragged into one of his world-saving escapades in some shiny new armor.

“Of course not,” Tony grinned, though there was a playful glimmer in his eyes that told you he wasn’t ruling anything out entirely. “Just come to the Tower, meet the team. If you hate it, you can go back to hiding in your lab and pretending you’re not a genius like me.”

You rolled your eyes, though the thought lingered. A new team? A new mission? Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to check it out. If things went south, you could always disappear back into the shadows. But something in Tony’s tone hinted at urgency, something serious brewing on the horizon. He wasn’t just calling for fun. He needed you.

With a resigned sigh, you pushed off from the desk. “Fine. But this better not be some ploy to get me into an Iron suit.”

Tony’s smirk widened. “No promises.”

The call ended with a flicker of the screen, and you were left standing in the soft hum of your lab, the weight of Tony’s request hanging in the air. You glanced at your half-finished prototype one last time before grabbing your jacket, muttering under your breath, “What have I gotten myself into?”

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Later, at Avengers Tower, you stepped into the grand lobby, the space sprawling before you like something out of a futuristic movie. Towering glass walls reflected the sunlight, creating a dazzling effect that made the entire room shimmer. High-tech displays blinked with data and notifications, while sleek metallic accents added to the modernity. It was a world apart from your cozy lab, and you couldn’t help but marvel at how Tony had truly outdone himself with this place. The grandeur was impressive, but you felt a knot tightening in your stomach, a sense of unease settling in as you stepped further inside.

Just as you took another step, a voice sliced through the air behind you, cool and assessing. “So you’re the sister Tony doesn’t like to talk about.”

You turned to face him, your heart pounding slightly at the sight of Steve Rogers, Captain America himself. He stood there, arms crossed over his chest, his muscular frame radiating authority. His expression was carefully neutral, but there was an edge to it—a mix of skepticism and something akin to wariness. He looked you up and down, his gaze critical, and you could already sense the judgment simmering beneath the surface. He thought you were just another Stark, another piece in Tony’s ego-driven game.

“And you’re the soldier out of time,” you replied, matching his coolness with your own. The words felt sharper than you intended, a defensive instinct kicking in. “Nice to meet you.”

Steve offered a tight nod, his lips pressed into a thin line, but he didn’t smile. “Tony’s told me a lot about you.”

“All bad, I hope,” you shot back, a hint of a smirk dancing on your lips. But Steve’s expression remained unyielding, the weight of his gaze unwavering.

“I’m not here to judge,” he stated, but his eyes bore into you, steady and measuring, as if he were trying to peel back layers of your identity with sheer will alone. “Just here to see if you’re serious.”

“Serious?” You scoffed, your heart racing with indignation. “About what?”

“About helping, about doing what’s right. We’ve got enough egos on this team.”

Your smirk faded, replaced by a flash of frustration. “You don’t even know me.”

“I know your brother.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not Tony,” you retorted, your voice sharper than you intended. The tension between you crackled in the air, palpable and thick. You hated the feeling of being judged before someone even bothered to know you, and clearly, Steve didn’t like the idea of another Stark stepping into the fold.

For a moment, silence engulfed you, and you could almost hear your heartbeat thundering in your ears. The intensity of Steve’s gaze felt like a spotlight, and you wondered if he could see through your facade, exposing the vulnerabilities you kept hidden. You could sense his protective instincts flaring, the weight of responsibility resting on his shoulders, and somehow, you felt like an outsider even though you were family.

Just as the tension threatened to spiral further, Tony strolled into the room, an air of nonchalance enveloping him. “Hey, you two! Getting along already?” His grin was impossibly wide, brightening the atmosphere even as it made the air around you feel heavier with unresolved tension.

You shot Tony a glare that could’ve cut through steel. This was not the time for his usual bravado. Steve merely shook his head, the corners of his mouth twitching in an attempt to contain a smile. “We’ll see,” he replied, his tone light but his eyes still fixed on you, as if he were weighing the likelihood of your success in this new venture. Then, with a final, assessing glance, he turned and walked off, leaving you standing there, frustration simmering just below the surface.

“Great. This is off to a fantastic start,” you muttered under your breath, a mixture of annoyance and apprehension churning inside you. The day had barely begun, and already you could feel the weight of expectation bearing down on you. As the lobby buzzed with the energy of heroes and high-tech innovation, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were walking a tightrope, teetering between proving yourself and succumbing to the shadows that felt all too familiar.

With a deep breath, you steeled yourself, reminding yourself that you were here to help. No matter what Steve Rogers thought, you had your own strengths, your own path to carve in this world. You just had to figure out how to make them see that.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The air in the war room was thick with tension as Tony briefed you on the mission, his voice crisp and urgent. “So here’s the deal: leftover Chitauri tech has been activated by HYDRA operatives in the city. It’s supposed to be a routine clean-up mission, but we know better than to underestimate anything HYDRA gets their hands on.” His brow furrowed, the usual playful glint in his eyes replaced by a seriousness that made your stomach knot.

You listened intently, nodding as he laid out the plan. But as he insisted you tag along—even if just to observe and assess—you felt a mix of excitement and dread. You weren’t officially part of the team, yet here you were, being dragged into the chaos by your brother’s unwavering belief in your abilities.

When you arrived at the scene, the streets were already in chaos. The sounds of sirens blared, drowning out the shouts of frantic civilians being evacuated. Smoke billowed into the air, curling around toppled cars and shattered glass. You felt a chill run down your spine as you surveyed the destruction.

Amid the chaos, Steve barked orders at the rest of the team, his authoritative voice cutting through the noise like a beacon of hope. You hung back, monitoring the situation from a mobile unit that Tony had rigged up for you—a lifeline of information in a storm of uncertainty.

“Stay behind the lines!” Steve called out to you over his shoulder, his tone firm as he and Natasha led the charge into the fray.

You rolled your eyes, a mixture of annoyance and determination bubbling inside you. "I know what I’m doing, Captain," you shot back, trying to sound more confident than you felt. The last thing you wanted was to be coddled like a helpless child.

Just as the fight erupted, the atmosphere shifted. A crackling energy surged through the air, and before you could process the threat, one of the HYDRA operatives unleashed a pulse from the Chitauri device. The wave of electricity shot toward you, a blinding flash of danger that sent adrenaline coursing through your veins.

In that split second, everything shifted. Time seemed to slow as you braced for impact, your instincts screaming at you to move, to do something—anything. But before you could react, Steve surged forward like a force of nature. He slammed his shield into the ground with a resounding thud, creating a barrier that absorbed the surge of energy before it could reach you.

You stumbled back, wide-eyed, the reality of what had just happened crashing over you like a tidal wave. Steve turned to you, his expression a mixture of concern and frustration. “I said stay behind,” he said, his voice clipped, but there was a hint of protectiveness that made your heart race.

“I had it under control,” you snapped back, though deep down, you knew that wasn’t entirely true. You felt a surge of embarrassment rising within you, the remnants of the adrenaline making you defensive.

Steve didn’t argue further, but his gaze lingered on you, his eyes searching yours as if he were trying to gauge the depths of your resolve. The moment stretched out, thick with unspoken tension, and you could sense a silent acknowledgment between you—this was new territory for both of you, a fragile thread connecting your destinies.

But as quickly as it had come, the moment shattered. With a final look that communicated both concern and determination, Steve charged back into the fray, his shield raised high as he fought against the chaos. You stood there, heart racing, grappling with a whirlwind of emotions—frustration, admiration, and a flicker of fear for what lay ahead.

With a deep breath, you refocused on the task at hand. You weren’t going to let this moment define you. You had to prove to yourself, and to Steve, that you belonged here—among heroes and legends. The fight was just beginning, and you were ready to carve your place in it.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The mission concluded in a flurry of activity and relief, but the tension between you and Steve lingered in the air like an unresolved chord. Back at the Tower, you settled in front of the computer, the glow of the screen casting an almost ethereal light across your face as you replayed footage of the battle. Each frame brought back the chaos—the electricity crackling, the screams of civilians, and Steve’s shield slamming into the ground just in time to save you. The rush of adrenaline from earlier mixed with a more unsettling feeling as you examined the moment you almost lost everything.

As you scrolled through the footage, you felt a presence behind you. You didn’t need to turn around to know it was Steve; the weight of his gaze felt palpable, a steady warmth that contrasted sharply with the intensity of the battle you had just fought. He stood in the doorway, arms crossed, his silhouette framed by the soft light of the hallway, watching you with a quiet intensity.

“You handled yourself well out there,” he finally said, his voice low and sincere, cutting through the silence that surrounded you.

Surprised, you glanced up at him, momentarily meeting his gaze. “Thanks,” you replied, your voice a mix of pride and humility.

“But next time,” he continued, the firmness returning to his tone, “don’t make me have to save you.”

A small, teasing smile tugged at your lips, a spark of your trademark confidence flaring up in response. “Don’t worry, Captain. I won’t,” you shot back, your tone light, though beneath it was a current of seriousness.

Steve didn’t respond immediately, his expression shifting as he studied you. In his blue eyes, you caught a flicker of something deeper—perhaps a grudging respect, maybe even a hint of admiration. It made your heart flutter unexpectedly, a rush of warmth that was both thrilling and confusing. The Captain of America saw you, and for a moment, the weight of expectations from being Tony Stark's sister lifted, replaced by a connection that felt genuine.

He nodded once, a subtle acknowledgment of the moment shared between you, before turning to leave. As he walked away, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just another fleeting exchange. You were carving out your own space in this team, proving that you were more than just Tony’s sister—you were a force to be reckoned with in your own right.

Left alone in the dim light of the lab, you turned back to the screen, but your thoughts were no longer on the footage. Instead, your mind lingered on Steve’s quiet strength, his unwavering resolve. You were beginning to understand that there was more to him than just the Captain—the man behind the shield had his own battles, his own vulnerabilities.

And you felt an undeniable pull towards him, a sense of camaraderie that was slowly transforming into something deeper. The mission had ended, but the journey was just beginning, and you were more determined than ever to prove yourself—not just to Steve, but to the entire team.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The mission had been a success, but the moment Steve saw you—Tony’s sister—standing there, he felt the weight of responsibility tugging at his heart. He knew you had potential; he’d seen you handle yourself with surprising skill, but he wasn’t prepared for how much the little spark in your eyes got under his skin.

Leaning against the doorway, he watched you replay the footage of the battle. You were focused, your brow furrowed in concentration, and it captivated him. You radiated a unique blend of confidence and determination, much like your brother, yet with a warmth that was distinctly your own.

When he finally spoke, telling you that you handled yourself well out there, he truly meant it. But as soon as the words left his mouth, he felt a mix of admiration and wariness wash over him. You were Tony’s sister—his little sister. He recalled the stories Tony had told him about your childhood, the sibling rivalry, and how fiercely protective Tony had always been of you. That instinct felt like a wall between them, even as he felt drawn to you.

“Don’t make me have to save you,” he warned, hoping to impress upon you the importance of caution. He had seen too many people underestimate their enemies, and he didn’t want you to be another victim of that recklessness.

Your response—light and teasing—pulled a small smile from him, but it was quickly overshadowed by concern. “Don’t worry, Captain. I won’t.” It was infuriating how effortlessly you seemed to deflect his concern. You had a spark that reminded him of Tony, but there was something more disarming about you. Something that made it hard for him to maintain his composure.

He nodded, more to himself than to you, before he turned to leave. He didn’t want to admit how much your presence affected him, how he found you attractive in a way that made him question everything he knew about focusing on the mission. But he also understood that getting involved with Tony’s sister could complicate things—complicate his already tangled life.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

As the days turned into weeks, you became a more permanent fixture in the Tower, and Steve couldn’t help but notice how effortlessly you blended into their chaotic team dynamic. Watching you interact with the others was eye-opening. You had Tony’s quick wit, but there was a warmth in your approach that brought out the best in everyone.

He remembered a moment during a team meeting when Clint made a joke at your expense. Without missing a beat, you shot back, “If you’re going to insult me, at least make it clever.” The room erupted in laughter, and Steve found himself chuckling along, secretly impressed by your tenacity.

But the more time he spent with you, the more he struggled with his feelings. You were intelligent, fiercely capable, and incredibly brave—qualities he admired. Yet every time he looked at you, he felt the ghost of Tony’s protective nature hovering over them. He could practically hear Tony warning him to keep his distance, reminding him that you were off-limits. It was a mental tug-of-war, and every glance between them only heightened his awareness of how close they were getting.

One evening, you both worked late in the lab. He caught you watching him as he threw punches at a training dummy, a curious smile dancing on your lips. It was a moment of connection, but it also made his heart race in a way that both thrilled and terrified him. He knew you were trouble, yet there was something about you that drew him in, like a moth to a flame.

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

a/n : so this is new series im experimenting with!! not proofread. any comments tips suggestions you have would be highly appreciated. happy reading!!

TAGS

all writing - @roslastyles420 @hopefulinlove@bluesongbird-blog

marvel -

to be added to the taglist send me an ask or a dm specifying which fandom 🩷

[vicsnook]

Never Left Me Pt. 1 | Scott Miller x Reader

word count: 2330

warnings: arguing, Scott being Scott

notes: Hello! I’m still here y’all, just been dealing with a lot of personal stuff so haven’t been able to write as much as I’d like. But here is a little something for this brat of a man who had probably less than 10 minutes of screen time but continues to live in my head rent free. Hope you enjoy and part 2 will be up Sunday! As always, please don’t forget to like and reblog 🫶🏼.

A row of desks is all that stands between me and the man who I once thought might have a soul despite what everyone else said. Everyone that is sitting on the desks is thankfully too busy to see me coming and that’s how I make it past the receptionist and to his office.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, Scott! You can’t go through with this!” I yell as soon as I walk in. The anger is still cursing through me from where I read the termination email.

His eyes lift up from the monitor and I can tell immediately by his expression that he is very displeased by my interruption. Well that makes two of us now, I think to myself.

“Sorry sir, she ran past me,” says the receptionist from behind me and I don’t need to turn around to know she’s giving me a nasty look.

He looks between us before waving her off. “It’s fine, Kathy. Please excuse us.”

“It’s one thing to have investors when you could do our research with grants and not have to be unethical.” I fume. “It’s another to let the biggest asshole in Oklahoma now own half the company and let him fire half of us without cause.”

He scoffs, not bothering to look at me. “I did what was best for the company. Sorry you didn’t make the cut. If you need any letters of recommendation, please let Kathy know.”

It takes everything in me not to walk over and smack the attitude out of him but I know I might need the stupid recommendation so I take a deep breath instead.

“Anything else? Or do I need to get security to escort you out?” He says, looking at me with those icy blue eyes that once gave me butterflies.

“When this inevitably blows up in your face, don’t bother to call.” I respond and walk out, not bothering to close the door on my way out which I know he hates.

The elevator is slow to get me to the lab where I pick up what little I keep in my office and then with one last look to the place that I once considered my second home, I start to head out. Taking down the picture of Javi, Kate, Scott, and I from the wall and throwing it in the trash can before I get on the elevator.

After eating way too much ice cream for dinner and playing darts with Scott’s picture attached to the board, I realize I have no idea what to do next. Only thing that’s for certain is that bills will pile up quickly if I can’t get another job soon though.

So I dial the only person I know might help me and hope my past job is something he can look past. Hope fills me up when he picks up on the first ring. His southern drawl already making me feel like things will actually be okay.

-

“Good lord, Y/N, as I live and breathe! What the heck are you doing here city girl?” Asks Boone, pulling me in for a much needed hug.

“Well the city didn’t really want me anymore so here I am.” I admit, looking at my feet as I blush in embarrassment.

Boone knows me too well and it won’t be long before I know I’ll have to keep him from punching Scott in the mouth. Even if he really deserves it. He sighs in response, looping his arm through mine and leading me to the rest of the team.

“Look at what the cat dragged in, come here girl,” Dani says, enveloping me into a hug that Lily is quick to join into. “Welcome aboard,” they whisper before pulling away.

“Alright, Alright, let’s not suffocate our newcomer. We still gotta show her the ropes.” He says, and I feel my heart begin to race. Damn you, Tyler Owens for having this effect on me, well actually, on most of the female population.

“Thanks again for the opportunity,” I say, turning around to meet his eye. The past couple of months definitely did him well, I think as I take in his physique.

“Don’t mention it.” He responds, leaving me to get acclimated with my new role in his team.

-

Soon enough we’re racing down the road to where a Tornado has begun to form but before we can turn into the street that will lead us right to it, the Scarecrow truck that I once shared with Scott cuts us off.

“God I hate that asshole,” Tyler mumbles as we resume our journey, now trailing Scott who can’t seem to pick a speed. “Turn left up here, then turn right before the dead end, it’ll put us right ahead,” I tell Tyler who is quick to follow instructions as I buckle into the harness and hold the steering wheel so he can do the same.

But the action is over before it’s even begun as the tornado quickly dissipates before it reaches us. Tyler and I look at each other and down at the computer which shows no other storms in the area today.

“Maybe we’ll have better luck tomorrow,” I say, radioing the rest of the team who suggests heading to the diner down the road for dinner.

“So what happened between Kate, Javi, and Scott? Why did they take off?” Tyler asks, as he drives down the nearly deserted back roads that lead to the town.

“Scott had a majority share in Storm Par because of his uncle and after the stunt Kate and Javi pulled in Reno, he had them pretty much fired.”

“Well, I got that already from Kate and being there but why didn’t they come back?” He asks, and I know exactly what he’s really asking. Why did Kate ghost him?

But I don’t know how to tell him the truth. So I try to do the one thing I suck at. Lie. “They just got busy, I guess. Javi got a job with Kate last I heard and it just worked out better up there for them,” I say, avoiding eye contact.

“I bet it did,” he mutters, and I can’t help the guilty feeling in my stomach. But could he handle the truth?

-

We head up to Texas the following week and the ride is mostly silent except for me giving directions to Tyler every once in a while. I don’t think he takes up very well to lying since he’s stopped trying to make friendly conversation and will only talk about work.

The motel comes into view and it isn’t the nicest. But when are they ever nice?

Tyler hands me my room key and I grab my bag. It feels odd being here without the rest of the team but we need to be in two places at once sometimes to get our data.

“Hey Tyler, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for lying the other day. I really hate to start our work relationship on the wrong foot.” I say, as we walk up the stairs to the rooms.

“So why don’t you tell me the truth then?”

His green eyes lock on mine and I suddenly feel nervous. “Kate, she wasn’t ready to be here. After her and Javi got fired, they figured they could make a better difference up in New York working with NOAA.” His face twists into a frown. “For what it’s worth Ty, she almost came back for you but you’ve gotta understand after what she went through, she just wasn’t ready.”

“I just wish she would’ve called.”

“I’m sorry, Ty. But she’s coming to see her mom in a few weeks. Maybe show up? See what’s up?”

“I just might. Now go on and get some sleep. We’ve got a long day tomorrow.” He says, and I nod heading into my room.

-

“Ugh!” I grunt when my alarm goes off the next morning.

Why did I pick this job when I’ve never been a morning person?

I shower quickly and pack my dirty clothes back into my bag and as I put on my shoes there’s a knock on my door. He sure is punctual.

“Hey we’re getting some crazy weather east of here. You ready?” Tyler asks as soon as I open the door. “Yep, let me grab my stuff.”

By the afternoon we’ve already had two F1’s and a whole lot of data collected so Tyler decides we can head for some lunch.

The sight of the Storm Par truck is enough to make my appetite go away as I spot the scarecrow sticker on the back but nevertheless I follow Tyler in and order a burger.

“Hey I gotta make a call, I’ll be right back.” Tyler tells me and I’m left alone in the booth picking at my fries. Unfortunately for me it isn’t for long as Scott slides in to the seat across from me.

“Didn’t think you’d go work for the hillbillies,” he says, stealing one of my fries and I roll my eyes. “What the hell do you want Scott?”

“Just to offer you a job. I need a navigator.”

I scoff. “I told you I’m not working for you again.” I can feel his eyes on me but I refuse to look up.

“Suit yourself,” he says, sliding out of the booth and leaving me alone. God I cannot stand that man.

“Y/N! We gotta go!” yells Tyler, rushing back into the diner and I throw two 20’s on the table and run after him. Noticing Scott also getting up to follow.

The weather has changed in the little time we were in the diner. What was a clear sky is now dark gray and the rain starts to come down hard as I slam the truck door shut.

“It’s coming this way, look at the radar,” says Tyler as he shifts the truck in gear and soon we are speeding down the two lane highway. “Ty, it’s starting, oh God.”

The tornado is forming right ahead of us and as I stare at the screen in my laptop I realize it’s headed straight for the diner.

“Fuck, hold on!” yells Tyler, doing a U-turn and speeding back towards the diner. We need to move fast and get these people to safety.

I hop out as Tyler puts the truck in park and we rush back inside, Tyler yelling out to get to the back since there isn’t a storm shelter. People nearly trample us as they file into the back room.

I turn to the windows, the sound of the familiar sirens is almost deafening and that’s when I see him. Scott is pulling into the parking lot and the tornado is right behind him.

“Y/N! Get in here!” Yells Tyler but it’s muffled. My body is almost in autopilot as I sprint to the door to try to save the man who’d probably leave me for dead.

“Scott!” I scream, the rain is coming down harder and I can hardly see anything. The ground shakes beneath me but I push through to where I think I see him and we collide. “C’mon!” I yell as I pull him with me to safety and it’s like everything is in slow motion.

The windows burst into shards of glass and I duck, hoping Scott did too. My hand never leaving his as I continue to pull us inside and we make it, just barely.

He envelops me in his arms as the tornado goes over the diner and everything around us rattles. The screams of the people around us are terrifying and I think “Is this where we die?”

And just like that it’s over.

We survived.

-

I sit in a booth wincing in pain as Scott and Tyler pull glass shards out of my face and arms. The pain is nauseating and all I want is a shower and a nice bed.

“What were you thinking going after him?” asks Tyler when Scott walks back to the bathroom to get more paper towels.

“I wasn’t.”

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Well that much is clear.”

I nod in agreement as he takes the paper towels from Scott and dabs at my cuts and I wince in pain.

“Yeah, you need to go back home and get some proper rest.” Tyler says, and shushes me before I can protest. “I’ll book you a flight tomorrow. Take a few days off. I’ll be back in Oklahoma by the time you’re good to go.”

I nod reluctantly.

“I can take her back, I’m heading back up tonight.” Scott says from behind Tyler and I stiffen at the suggestion. “Y/N, that's okay with you?” Asks Tyler looking at me and as much as I want to say no, I know if he doesn’t have to buy me a flight, he can use the money to help the community affected so I nod.

“C’mon I’ll take you back to the motel to get your things. Can you meet us there Scott?”

“I’ll be right behind you,” he responds.

The car ride is silent other than the radio reporting the damages and all I can think of is wanting to stay but I know better than to argue with Tyler.

I slowly gather my things when we get to the motel trying to avoid spending much time with Scott. Why did I really go after him?

The hot water feels good on my skin as I wash away the blood and remaining pieces of glass. The alarm on my phone startles me and I step out knowing we have to go soon.

I wince as I apply ointment on my cuts then head out the door to meet Tyler and Scott.

“Drive safe!” Tyler yells as Scott pulls out into the highway and I know it’ll be a long six hours as he turns up the radio.

click here for part 2 🫢

[alexthetrashyracoon]

Fantasy au nobody asked for but I give you anyway.

Tags: Flowerfairy Reader, traveling mercenary Ghost, a bit of cursing, momentarily character death but we stay above the ground don't worry, a bit angsty but it gets a happy ending, I promise <3 (if that flops I'll cry)

Word count: 1350

"We shouldn't go this way." They flatly said and fluttered next to Ghost's face, brows in a pinch with their hands pressed against their rips. "It's dangerous."

Ghost grunted and swatted at them, not hard enough to hurt them or cause them to crash to the ground, but to get them out of his face. "You've been traveling with me long enough. You should know by now I don't care how dangerous it is as long as it gets me to the place I need to get." He says and leaves the cobbled path to take the short cut through the woods.

They huff and flutter after him. "I warned you."

It's been three months since Ghost met the little flower fairy, caught in some bandits' bottle. Ghost was hunting the group of bandits down, a big fat reward waiting for him when he brought back the leader, dead or alive it didn't matter.

So when he cleaned the camp, he found the bottle that had rolled under a sack and at first, Ghost had discarded it as trash, not looking twice at it but then he heard the little banging sound on glass and checked the bottle again, finding the little thing inside.

At first Ghost wasn't sure if he could believe his eyes. It wasn't everyday after all that someone came across a fairy, tiny human with wings on their back, but they pinched Ghost hard enough for him to believe it.

Ever since then Ghost allowed the fairy to graciously follow him, if they promised to keep their mouth shut, which they never truly did. They were talking all the time, chatting about whatever was on their mind. And Ghost, he would never admit that out loud, actually enjoyed the company for once. He was used to traveling alone, never bonding with others or keeping friendships alive for long. But something about the fairy was different.

At the end of the shortcut, Ghost finds himself standing in an opening that looks quite peaceful, not enough for him to drop his guard but the scenery is nice for a change.

He turns around to face the fairy who sits on his shoulder like usually when their wings get tired. They barely weigh anything more than a feather, even if he teases them all the time that if they keep eating so many cookies that he won't be able to keep walking with them on his shoulder. They always pout in return and don't talk to him for exactly ten minutes before chatting about some flower they have passed on their way.

"See. No danger around." Ghost grunts and decides it's time for a break, to replenish his strength and energy while enjoying a bit of nature's beauty. He puts down his backpack and sits down next to it. "Wake me in an hour."

The wake-up call never comes, or at least, not an hour later, but several hours, considering that the sun is going down right now and Ghost finds himself in a cage with his arms bound behind his back with rough rope. "The fuck is going on?" He asks, his tongue heavy as he speaks, eyes needing a few moments to focus again, ears still ringing, making hearing hard. Someone must have knocked him out cold when he took a nap, how embarrassing for someone like him to get caught off-guard by some amateur bandits.

Something... Someone, steps in front of the cage. "Look at that. The shithead who killed my brother is awake." That someone kicks the bars of the cage, making Ghost flinch at the rattling sound that comes with it.

He quickly gathers himself again, checking the guy outside the cage but not recognizing the person. "I killed many brothers... So, who the fuck are you?" Ghost asks, sounding overly confident, as always, even in situations where he should show a bit of restraint. Especially in situations like this.

The person grabs onto the bars of the cage and rattles them, baring his teeth like an animal. "You dick. I'll make you remember before... Hey! What the fuck! What is that?!" The bandit jumps and swats at something in the air but can't quite catch it.

Ghost's eyes widen, his fairy is back, he has been asking himself where they have gotten lost while he was in that cage. But he can't let their distraction be for nothing, he uses the chance to break the binding and steal the key from the bandits' leather belt to get out of the cage.

"Shit!" The bandit curses as he turns to look between Ghost and whatever is attacking him but decides to ultimately pay attention to Ghost, the bigger threat. Ghost's fairy uses the chance to get away to safety, leaving Ghost to fight without worrying about getting them into more danger.

It's clear as day that Ghost is no amateur and that there was no way in hell that the bandit would ever win. But somehow he managed to get away, right where Ghost's little fairy waited for him.

Ghost isn't fast enough to save them, he watches as the now bleeding bandit grabs the little fluttering thing and squeezes his hand shut until the noises stop and the forest completely falls silent.

He makes quick work of the bandit, he doesn't even look at his face as he cuts off his head. All he cares for is the little fairy in the bandits hand that's laying there, like a little doll, unmoving.

"Come now. Don't play with me, little fairy." Ghost says and picks their body up with shaking hands.

He never felt like this before, so damn helpless and clueless. What is he supposed to do? How can he turn back time to get his fairy back. The little chattering fairy that he learned to care for.

"I know you warned me it's dangerous... I should have listened." He says, not crying. He can't. He won't. Ghost never cries. Even if he wants to. "It's my fault you're dead. I'm sorry."

He remembers the promise they made a few weeks ago.

"Let's see the world together. You and I." They have happily announced back then and Ghost couldn't say now to their happy, smiling face. "Let's see the world together. You and I."

He would give his own life just for one more chance with them.

A single tear rolls down Ghost's cheek. It's more than he ever allowed himself before. It lands on their tiny body, staining their clothes.

Ghost searches for a spot to bury them, he knows they love flowers, so why not bury them in a field of them.

Just as he's finished with the hole in the ground, the air picks up, the breeze becomes warmer with flower petals and leaves flying through the air, surrounding him.

"That hole is way too small for someone as big as me."

Ghost knows that voice, he looks down only to find the body missing. Instead he sees naked feet, human feet standing in front of him, he looks up, following the long legs.

"How?" He asks, ignoring their nakedness and standing up, touching them, their humanly sized body. "I saw your dead body. He squeezed..."

"I don't know, Ghost. In my last moment I just remembered that we promised to travel the world together and when I opened my eyes again, I saw you on your knees, digging that hole." They explain with a smile, gratefully taking the woolen cloak from Ghost's hands and wrapping it around their shoulders. "I think Lady Fate is still not done with our story, Ghost."

At first it was a big change, gone was the tiny fairy fluttering around his head all the time, but Ghost quickly got used to seeing the other human next to him every night and day. Ghost had to teach them how to be human at first but he was sure that this was a challenge they would master too. One step at a time. And this time, Ghost would listen to his fairy turned human more often.

[strwbmei]

Kinktober : BONUS LEVEL.

summary: in the midst of the crowded costume party; stelle needs you— and she needs you now.

contains: modern!au, college!au, female reader, mentioned alcohol usage, pet play sort of(?), stelle is referred to as a dog and she has a collar, transfem!stelle, stelle is taller, mentions of drugs, semi-public sex, creampie, power bottom reader, choking, unprotected sex, non-consensual creampie, stelle is a bit pathetic

pairing(s): pre-established stelle x reader

a/n: It's a bit late considering this was for Halloween, but this idea has been rotting in my brain for so long...

NSFW below the cut !

"Baby..." Stelle whined, looking down at you with those amber-hued puppy eyes she knew you couldn't possibly refuse. Not for long, at least. "Need you s'bad... Please?" The taller woman clung to your arm, tugging on your sleeve like a child who didn't get the toy they wanted.

After the two of you received an invitation to a quote-unquote, "small Halloween costume party" from a mutual acquaintance, you decided to go as the werewolf and little Red Riding Hood.

It was a great idea— the costumes worked well individually, but if someone saw both of you together, it'd be obvious that the two of you were a couple, though that was mostly because you were literally holding her on a leash that was attached to the collar her costume came with.

What wasn't a great idea, however, was going to the party in the first place. Within not even half an hour, the place reeked with the stench of vomit and cheap alcohol, and the second-rate Halloween decorations that were obviously only added as an afterthought were presumably torn off the walls by drunks.

Also, unlike the person who invited you two had said, the party was not small at all. The place was filled to the brim with couples and stoners; the only reason you two still stayed was because it'd be a waste to not use the costumes you already bought. They weren't really expensive, per se, but both of you were broke college students. You were going to make the most out of the $40 you spent on these costumes.

"Stelle, you can't just-" You inhaled, taking in a deep breath as you halt your words. "We're in public. I'm sorry, baby, but you can wait until we get home, hm?" You took her hands into your own, rubbing soothing circles on the back of her palm. The size difference was almost laughable.

Stelle heaved a dejected sigh, but you knew she hadn't given up quite yet. She was never one to be good with words— but she sure as hell was good at expressing her thoughts with her actions.

Which is probably why you can feel something hard and lengthy rubbing against your thigh as she wraps her arms protectively around your small frame. "Please. I'll make you feel so good, I promise..." She murmurs into your neck.

Well... it's not like you can just leave Stelle with a raging boner, right? Especially when you're what caused it in the first place. Right. You're just doing what any responsible girlfriend would do.

Though, you weren't aware that that included frantically unzipping her pants in god-knows-who's room as music blared from the cheap speakers downstairs.

"Wai- mmph..!" Stelle quickly put a hand over her mouth, stifling a moan as you hurriedly wrapped your lips around her cock. Though muffled, the sounds she made were more than audible.

Her eyes closed in ecstasy, her hands gripping your shoulders with a force that fluctuated between one of considerate eagerness and selfish desperation for her own pleasure— all telltale signs that she was going to cum soon, and you've grown all too familiar with them.

Though Stelle never could last long, the number of rounds she could go for was inhuman. Well, at least her ungodly amount of stamina is one thing about a werewolf that was even remotely similar to her.

As your head bobbed faster and faster in pace, her whimpers and moans grew louder and higher in pitch. With a strangled gasp, ropes of her warm semen flooded down your throat. Your mouth was pressed to her abdomen, swallowing every drop she had to offer.

"H-haah...~" The taller woman looked down at you with further aching need; cock still standing proud with a similar yearning. "Really, babe?" You sighed. A couple getting caught having sex in a party wasn't exactly a rare occurrence, and although normally people wouldn't care, it'd stain your pride.

Just as you were about to start jerking her off, she grabbed your hand by your wrist. "Wanna be inside you. Can I? I've been good..." She frowns; again, looking at you with those eyes.

First, she claimed that she'd make you feel good, only to settle for you sucking her off; second, does she really think she's been good? You wouldn't be in this situation if that were true in the first place. Liar.

However, you reckon you could give her a chance to prove herself...

Next thing you know, you're getting railed on the floor, barely able to keep yourself from falling over as Stelle rutted her hips into you. "W-wait, ah..!" You moaned. You didn't know what made Stelle so uncharacteristically... desperate, as if she were a dog in heat.

Maybe it was your costume? No, it looked good— but certainly not that good. And it wasn't revealing in the least, even the skirt was below knees length. Perhaps she was just too drunk? That's not it, either. Stelle has been drunk many times before and she's never acted like this.

Oh. The collar.

"Goddamit, Stelle...!" You huffed out in a hushed voice with all of the anger you could muster up. Everybody knows you can't ever stay mad at her, no matter what she does. Just like a cute puppy getting caught making a mess, Stelle only whines at your words; one hand over her mouth to muffle her sounds while the other kneaded at your breasts.

You pull her into a sloppy, hot kiss by her collar, the pace and strength of her thrusts unwavering. She whimpers into your mouth, swallowing all of your moans as she practically pounds you into the floor. Her cock was on the thicker side, rubbing perfectly against your walls while her tip kissed your cervix.

"Shit, so... tight...!" Stelle breaks out of your grip with little to no effort, hands needily grabbing and massaging at your tits. You tried to tell her to pull out, but you couldn't get any words out of your mouth through your moans. She mumbled a string of curses and apologies like a sinner begging for forgiveness. "Oh god, I'm gonna cum, gonna cum inside!"

With a choked moan, she held your hips down as you felt her warm cum fill you up. She lets out a sigh of pleasure as she pulls out of you, breathlessly pressing kisses on your inner thighs and apologizing. Though, seeing her cum leak out of you when she pressed down slightly on your stomach has her vigor returning tenfold...

Fuck it. She's cum inside of you already, what's the harm in two, maybe three more times? The night is young, after all.

╰┈➤ taglist ; @roninraccoon , @hedgehog666 , @dukemira , @yelanrambles , @the-night-owl-blr

[k0yaz]

For the request can I please have yandere Topaz x fem reader pet play NSFW one shot? Basically, she trains her darling to be obedient to her.

it wasn’t supposed to end up like this.

Pairings: topaz x fem!reader

CW: nsfw, afab reader, sub reader, dom topaz, yandere themes, not romantic/meant to be romanticized, themes including manipulation and fear, somewhat dark, collaring, pet play, mind break, psychological torture, dubcon (I think?), topaz is ooc bc she would never 💔, use of her real name, fingering, marking, grinding, slight praise (pretty girl), crying, slight sadism, not proofread.

A/N: glad that u read my rules regarding yandere, but for those who didn’t or are seeing this post for the first time THIS IS NOT MEANT TO BE ROMANTIC, IT IS MEANT TO SHOWCASE MIND BREAK AND MANIPULATION.

Faint ticking of the clock repeatedly rang within your eardrums as you aimlessly stared at the polished ceiling above you. How long had it been? Weeks? Months? You couldn’t tell at this point. Topaz had you under her thumb for long enough to where time didn’t matter anymore. You squinted your eyes slightly, losing your sanity to the never ending ticking, along with the way you were practically confined to the couch. Hoarse exhales resounded in the room with each uneven breath you let out, the tight collar encircling your throat making it harder to breathe.

It wasn’t supposed to end up like this.

At the time, she just seemed cordial and harmless even. A stark contrast to what the IPC consisted of, not to mention its rather destructive activities. Getting to know her at the time was something you looked forward to frequently, and you often tended to enjoy Topaz’s company. Not to mention you found Numby adorable too. She would often send you gifts—tokens of her appreciation toward you with such a warm smile, that you’d hardly ever question why she went so far as to spend so much just for you. And only you.

Everything was fine. Everything was fine until she uttered that wretched confession. At that moment, it seemed like a harmless “I love you”, smoothly rolling off of Topaz’s tongue as she averted eye contact from you, hoping you would reciprocate her dreadful obsession. What was a polite declination, informing her that her love was unrequited, evolved into a hostile string of screams and frustrated sobs which you can’t even recall anymore.

That encounter didn’t take long to get physical. And before you knew it, your vision was all blurry with a tight collar clamped around your neck, and wrists pushed against the mattress, confined with rugged, prickly rope restricting your movement. Her twisted fascination and so called ‘love’ for you only resulted in her keeping you like a prized possession, just awaiting the day you’d finally feel the same way.

Every day, you would just sit like a helpless animal succumbing to your despair, eyes locked at various random corners of her house and losing yourself in thought. The only other actions beside that were eating and sleeping, occasionally even uttering a word or two to Topaz when you had to. You didn’t exactly have much of a choice for that last part. Topaz had kept you shackled long enough to see your eyes darken to a now soulless shell of a person, incapable of thinking for yourself or doing anything besides basic needs or following orders. She never harmed you however. She could never do such a thing to her sweetheart. Rather, she let you be—letting you realize that you wouldn’t be leaving her anytime soon. She wouldn’t allow it.

Gradually, you began speaking to her more. You clearly didn’t find any joy in it, or maybe you did. Maybe it was just you going so mad to the point where you needed company of some sorts. Weakly inching towards her while she was working or taking care of business while seated next to you, attempting to sit up with what little strength you had in order to hold a conversation with her. In response, Topaz would immediately cut off what she was doing to come speak with you, delighted that her beloved finally started to warm up to her. Every word you muttered during the conversation was fatigued and hoarse, yet atleast you were finally talking to her once more.

A sudden tap on your thigh pulled you out of your dazed state, making you slightly push up your chin to look at your ‘girlfriend’ glancing down at you.

“(Name), you love me..and only me, right?” Topaz began, a reticent and barely visible smile tugging at the corners of her lips. You forced out a pathetic “mhm”, taking a small gasp of air as you had already strained your voice too much from that simple noise. She closed her eyes, breathing out sigh which you couldn’t tell the emotion behind. Perhaps it was disappointment? Relief? Knowing her it could be damn near anything. Suddenly, you couldn’t help but notice her fists balled up behind her back, seemingly grasping a lengthy bundle of dark red rope bunched up in her hands and hidden behind her back.

Revealing the rope cloaked behind her back, Topaz suddenly urged you to sit up, loosening her grip slightly and letting the rope pool down for her to thread her fingers through in an untangling motion. You felt an uncomfortable lump in your throat seeing Topaz scramble around for the burnished metal hook located at the end of the rope, a satisfactory, yet frightening grin crossing her expression as she snaked her free hand around the back of your neck. Her touch felt so soft..so right—like silk brushing along your nape with a grip so gentle. Her seemingly innocent touch nearly made you relax and lean your head back against her hand, almost making you forget the malicious intentions behind her so called loving contact.

A loud click echoed along the room as the prong clamped down and locked against the opening hole, sealing the leash against your throat. A weary gasp fell from your lips upon feeling Topaz immediately tug on the leash, burning the skin of your throat slightly as she grasped onto the rope controlling you like a puppet along with that god awful leather circling your neck. You were silenced by her thumb abruptly pushing against your bottom lip, pressing down on the feverish and worn skin as her index finger slipped below your chin.

“Ah. You’re still not listening to me…not completely atleast.” She muttered, her azure eyes piercing into your gaze as if she was staring directly at your soul. Gnawing on her bottom lip, she thought to herself for a moment, eyeing you up and down as your chest rose and fall with each staggering breath. Silence crowded the clearing for a solid moment, allowing you to briefly snap back your sanity for a moment and feel an uncomfortable pit in your stomach as the gravity of the situation dawned on you.

Topaz clicks her tongue and tuts, still reeling back the end of the leash fastened onto your neck. “Not good enough. Just not good enough.” She grumbled in slight frustration, her grasp becoming tighter as her knuckles grew more pale from her agitated state. Fear fogged your mind upon seeing her so…mad. It was just like that one time. Of course, you knew that she’d never directly harm you physically…yet that gnawing feeling in the back of your mind always told you otherwise.

You stumbled forward at the sudden tug on the leash once more, finding yourself face to face with Topaz, your noses brushing against each other as her hot breath fanned against your cheek. “To…paz..” you drawled out pitifully, suddenly being shushed by her touching foreheads with you and muffling you with her palm as she covered your mouth.

“Jelena.” She corrected with a low, breathy voice. Her intimidating gaze only felt like a spear was twisting in your stomach, adding to your growing apprehension. Nodding in response, you began to cautiously comply with each word strung out of her venomous lips. She bowed her head down to meet your flushed throat, placing a trail of attempted soft kisses above your collar. “Promise you’ll listen now?”

You cleared your throat, looking up at her with dreary eyes as you exhaled deeply. “I’ll listen…Jelena.” You muttered, avoiding eye contact with her. She immediately grasped your chin, fingers digging into your cheeks as she insistently turned your head to face her with a twisted, yet elated smile adorning her lips. “Good.”

Reclining on the couch, Jelena now gave a more gentle tug to your collar, beckoning you to ease yourself before her. Of course, you weren’t one to refuse—you obediently relaxed your shoulders, seating yourself between her thighs with an anxious and fearful pit in your stomach.

The moment Jelena began to slowly strip your clothing down, sliding your shirt off of your shoulder and running down your arm as the fabric glided along your skin, you couldn’t help but feel a sort of..excitement. Were you so mentally far gone that the woman who kidnapped you was arousing such an exhilarating feeling within you? It didn’t matter anymore. No matter how much you believed that you wouldn’t listen to her, your mental efforts were futile. Jelena broke your mind to the point where you knew that you were made to obey her.

Heavy breaths slipped past your lips as your clothing was completely discarded in a pile at the foot of the couch, skin flushed as Jelena’s traversing kisses tainted your bare body. Bites and marks littered your rose tinted skin as you whimpered in her grasp, feeling her hand sink between your plush thighs to brush her middle finger along your slit while still kissing your body.

Quiet moans were lodged out of your throat as your head fell back against Jelena’s shoulder, eyes squeezed shut and brows knitted. You couldn’t help it. Part of your mind was telling you not to succumb to her antics, yet your mind blanked the moment you felt her middle and ring finger part your walls as she pushed them in, ridges of her fingers dragging along your cunt clenching around her digits.

Pathetic whimpers fell from your lips every time her fingers curled inside you, each thrust jerking a new noise out of you each time as you clawed at her thighs on either side of your waist. Jelena only smiled against the side of your neck upon feeling your pussy throb around her drenched fingers, letting out a satisfied hum as her free hand brushed against the front of your throat.

Slipping a finger into the blistering leather, she gave a gentle pull as she angled her hand upward, moans falling from her own lips as she ground her clothed clit against you from behind. She relished in your soft whines and hiccups whenever her palm roughly massaged your clit, finding herself overjoyed by your obedience and willingness to do this with her. Waves of pleasure swept over your body at her slick coated fingers scissoring themselves inside you, stretching your cunt out impossibly wide as tears rimmed the corner of your eyes.

Jelena leaned over to whisper in your ear, soft lips brushing the shell of your ear as you craned your neck to meet her gaze. “You’re such a pretty girl, (Name).” She slurred, still gasping out from her own stimulation as the couch grew damp from both of your fluids moistening the couch. Your grip on her thighs tightened, digging your nails into her plush skin, hips bucking up in quickened motions as your climax built up closer and closer. Jelena’s brows furrowed at the sting from your nails dragging along her thighs, but she wasn’t mad. Who could blame you? Especially when your response to her touch was everything she yearned for. She gave a quick pull to the collar to ground herself, breath ragged as her sweaty skin stuck to your own sweaty, bare back.

A choked hiccup was drawn out of you at the tug on the collar you hated so much, hips grinding down onto her buried fingers in your cunt and your expression practically pleading her to not do that again. Neither of you had spoken much, barely even during this moment. Jelena didn’t want to mess up anything with useless words when her actions could show you how much she loved you. After all, words led to you rejecting her in the first place and driving her to such drastic measures.

Shallow breaths circled the room from the two of you as you rode out your orgasm, the collar making your throat all the more uncomfortable and scratchy when you moaned loudly at your climax. Your own soft pants were audible in your ears as your head hung low, trying to recover from your intense orgasm. You curled up against Jelena, breathing slowly evening itself out as the collar made it near impossible to say anything, and only allowing you to nuzzle your face against her white hair to seek comfort.

Jelena rubbed your cheek reassuringly, heart melting at the sight of you all ruined with tear cracks decorating your cheeks and relying on her as if she was your lifeline. Your eyes shot open at the sound of a click, along with the sudden cool air caressing your reddened throat, your breathing becoming suddenly relaxed and more comfortable as she gave you a soft kiss on the forehead.

“You’re finally obedient to me. I trust you now, sweetheart.”

You cuddled up to her, closing your eyes as your breathing evened out altogether. You felt content, happy with her now. Yet, that comfort was mixed with a twinge of fear still lingering in your mind. You would be fine with this now. You’ve spent so long with Jelena that you would’ve accepted your new conditions with her. But there was just one thing that ate away at you like a subconscious knowing that you can’t brush off.

It wasn’t supposed to end up like this.

A/N: I told u this wasn’t going to be romantic and more mind break type shit and I apologize if it’s too disturbing but regardless I hope u like it

also, ik im usually silly with my content warnings but this time I made them a little more serious since this legitimately needs content warnings. BUT this was interesting to write and I did enjoy it!!

@hedgehogthetraveler <3

[yawnderu]

hello! i saw that you are accepting requests. love your ideas in your ghost's situationship piece, and i am wondering if you have ideas on how early relationship with nikto would be? please don't feel pressured to do this, just would love to see your thoughts! sfw or not, all up to you! thank you, have a good day :3

hii!! I remember talking about this with my friend sjdpenwo

God, a situationship or very early relationship with Nikto would absolutely break you too. This man is not fully there anymore— a shell of who he used to be. He's always angry now, has a distorted mind and a disfigured face he doesn't let you see no matter how much you ask. If you ask a lot, he'd immediately drop you. Respecting his boundaries is a huge part of being with Nikto, and that includes getting used to the possibility of never seeing his face.

As a situationship, he's rough during sex, downright degrading you as he takes you like you're nothing but a hole he can fuck whenever the voices get too loud and he can't quiet them down. If he fucks you hard enough to silence them, things might work out.

Curses and degrading words spill out of his lips like a filthy prayer as his thick cock slides in and out of you, his gloved hands holding the curve of your waist with a bruising grip as he pulls out before slamming himself all the way back in, deep groans escaping his lips when he feels your cunt tighten up around him.

He knows you like it rough, such a pretty girl always available for him, his hand wrapping around your throat as he squeezes hard, cutting your air supply as he slams his hips against you harder and deeper, his balls slapping your sensitive clit with each thrust.

Your face is warm and your eyes are teary, the pleasure of being degraded like this and fucked so hard by the Russian man mixing in, not even managing to moan anymore as his hold on your neck is too strong. He can feel your body writhing underneath him, cunt getting even tighter around his fat cock as your orgasm hits. It doesn't take long for him to follow, barely managing to pull out before he's on his knees in bed, pumping his cock a few times as his cum spurts out all over your face.

He doesn't help you clean up, doesn't even say a word other than telling you he'll be back later that month, about to leave for deployment. He's as cold as his mother country, and it would take months of this and a long talk before he tries to treat you like an actual person rather than a hole he can stick his dick in.

You convince him to stay sometimes by making traditional Russian food, welcoming him from his deployments with something tasty to eat, encouraging him by saying he needs the energy to fuck you. He eats in another room and alone, not wanting you to see a single inch of his scarred face, but he always washes the dish he almost licked clean. He rewards you for your efforts, of course, his bare hand rubbing on your puffy clit while he lets you ride his cock, pale blue eyes closing in pleasure as he shoots ropes all the way inside your cunt for the first time.

Things slowly change after that day— he comes home to you immediately after his deployments, but he doesn't always fuck you, simply staring at you as you cook or wrapping his arms around you from behind, his fingers deep inside your cunt as you try your best to finish the meal while he's making you cum, words of praise in Russian and English being whispered into the nape of your neck from behind. He makes you lick his fingers clean off of your own cum, painfully hard cock pressing against your back, yet he doesn't fuck you yet. No, he has better things planned.

He comes back to your room once he's done eating, climbing into bed with you and putting you on his lap. His flight suit carries a small book he got specifically just for this, your back against his chest as he reads to you in Russian, deep voice calmer than you've ever heard. At some point he decides to switch to English, reading getting slightly slower ad he thinks about the right way to accurately translate the sentences. It's a change of pace, but it's always welcomed.

The moment your relationship becomes official, you got yourself a boyfriend and scary dog privilege whenever he's not deployed. This behemoth of a man follows you everywhere, one of his massive hands on your lower back, spreading its warmth all over your body.

While Nikto is an extremely difficult person, once he knows you're the one, he's not letting you go. He doesn't scream during arguments, simply staring at you for a second before leaving the house, taking a walk to calm down. He doesn't want to mess things up, not with you, not when he already has an engagement ring for you even though you've been dating for months. When he comes back with a clear mind, he communicates with you calmy, trying his best to understand the issue and actively working on fixing it.

Once your relationship advances, you'll start to notice this broken man worships you like a God.

[llamagoddessofficial]

You don't have to read this, but I've been thinking about ways to escape that situation. I would consider this a test run because we don't know their hunting strategies. Instead of focusing on running away, I would focus on understanding their patterns, as we know they are Mafia workers who search for people, and we don't know what kind of roles they have in their search. I'm considering whether or not to tell Dust about something, but I'm worried that he or my home might be bugged. If I do decide to tell him, I'll write a note explaining my reasons and wait for Horror to watch over us. While I wait, I'll inspect the garden for any weak points in the walls and observe the usual guard shift times. I might also pretend to have trouble sleeping and ask for some sleeping medication. I know Nightmare would attempt to help me, but he can't be available 24/7, and he won't be there every night, and I would ask for some sleep medication. And when it's Horror's turn I will dump the appropriate amount in his food or drink to mask the drugs when adding drugs to food or drink, I would use sugar to mask the taste and spices to cover up the smell. He is the main person hunting us down, and it's frustrating for Killer and Dust because they primarily used him to track us from the beginning. I will use the tough fabric of our curtains to tie knots and cut them to make a makeshift rope. Then, I will hail the nearest taxi, pay in cash, and instruct the driver to take us to the docks. I would take a boat tour to travel to the other side of the lake assuming that we live near one. They usually don't ask for ID, but I would choose a cheaper one just in case. I would be willing to pay extra if they do ask for it. Once I reach the other side, I would go to one of the destinations and start my new life without them.

An admirable attempt, to be sure. And there's a genuine chance you could get some distance away before they find you, which is no small feat. But there are some pitfalls you might have overlooked.

Guard shifts overlap. Nightmare has been in the game long enough to know the common breaks in armour. He's not just keeping you in; he's keeping his enemies out.

The boys might be dumb, but they're not stupid. They're incredibly observant. They would be able to tell that you're watching the guards.

Nightmare will be able to smell mounting anxiety about an escape attempt.

Where would you get the cash for the taxi? Additionally, you are really throwing the dice by getting a cab from outside Nightmare's home. Good luck finding a driver that isn't on Nightmare's payroll. In fact, good luck finding anywhere in the city where there isn't anyone loyal to Nightmare. There's a reason Dust was so agitated by Nightmare liking you... there's a reason he told you you can't leave.

You're gonna need a lot of fucking sleep meds to knock Horror out for any significant amount of time.

Horror is the fastest at finding you, sure. But if he's out of action, Nightmare will happily take his place on the hunt. And that isn't a good thing for you.

Also... perhaps the biggest issue.

You know food is sacred to Horror right? Incredibly sacred. To him, it's synonymous with love, with care, with connection. Food sharing in the Underground was how you told someone you valued their life. And accepting food was how you expressed the ultimate vulnerability. Horror doesn't accept food from just anyone.

Not only did you tamper with his food, you offered it to him under false pretences. You took advantage of the fact that he cared for you enough to eat/drink whatever you offer. I hope you realise you've absolutely shattered his trust.

He will never believe you, or let his guard down around you, ever again.

You monster.

[bitter-me]

A Red Herring

Scar | M. Reader as Sparkle [Honkai Star Rail]

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"A thousand faces in a thousand places... can you find the answer?"

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The cosmos is a vast place where many planets resigns. How fun~ So many worlds, so many universes, so many planets. What better way to spend time traveling the universe and spreading elation~? And this world.. one that has something called Tacet Discords? Oh how fun~

Walking through the extreme terrains the man merely smiles, humming a song and skipping along with no care whatsoever. Those.. Tacet Discords were certainly something but they're no match for someone of his.. expertise. It's bound for him to wreaked havoc upon this world. Because why not? It's be fun!

But it seems that his presence.. had caught the attention of someone...

"Hey, let me ask you something..." He stopped in his tracks, turning his head to glance at the stranger who decided to be oh so interested in him. "Is following me around like a lost puppy your way of getting my attention? You've been doing this for nearly half a system hour."

"Really now? I didn't notice! Time sure flies when you're having fun, doesn't it?" The stranger chuckles as he slowly approach the other with a huge grin on his face. This individual is quite.. entertaining.. playing the Tacet Discords like a fiddle.. it's rare to find such a person. How could he resist himself from following an entertaining man in red?

"Spare me." The man groans in response as he turns around to meet him face to face, he was about to say something before noticing a certain feature on him. "Beautiful eyes though." He may not be in the mood to deal with him, but he knows a beauty when he saw one. Such pretty heterochromia eyes..

"Why thank you~" His grin seems to widen at the compliment, stopping in his tracks, a few feet away from the man in red. "I'm Scar, it's a pleasure to meet a person like you~" Such an interesting man. One that's... foolish enough.. to play with Tacet Discords as if they are mere stray animals.. it's truly is such a pleasure to meet a man of his caliber. A man who uses the line between being a genius and being foolish like a jump rope.

"My eyes might not be as pretty as yours, but there's no problem with my vision..." The other began slowly. "The Fractsidus are quite notorious throughout the galaxy.. liars, thieves, social manipulators, wolves in sheep's clothing..." He stated with clear annoyance in his tone.

"Takes one to know one, dear."

Oh ho. He's playing that card huh? "Cut it out and go home, you slick talker. We are Fools, but we aren't stupid." Fools? Ah! So that's why this man in red is so interesting.. "Ah! So you're one of those elusive Masked Fools! No wonder you're so fascinating." Scar commented with a chuckle. Now this had just gotten far more entertainingentertaining. Never would he thought he'll ever meet such an elusive figure.

"Why don't you join me? I'd say the Fractsidus suits you more."

He sighs at Scar words. "Listen, little fishy. If you want the Masked Fools to get onboard, you need to figure out what it is The Laughter wants."

"The Masked Fools? Oh no no no no… my dear, I want you." Scar laughs. It doesn't matter that the other is a Masked Fool, the fact that there's someone out there who willingly toys with the Tacet Discords like how he does? Now that's a find. A rare find. And no way is he going to let this one go.

That bold statement results in a laugh coming from the Fool. Oh how flattering. Someone actually wanted him? Just like that? Well he's on a ride for the unexpected. "Scar was it? Then you can call me [Name]."

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A Fool and a Fractsidus.. what's the worst that could happen?

[mossyivy]

Hi tipsy!!! Hope you’re doing okay bestie! <3

I had a dream about this last night—DI Cowboy Leon and Spoiled/Bratty City Girl User…😜

Let’s just say, he took my attitude away in the best way possible…(Wink Wink 👀) ((In the stables 👀👀))

- Anon! 🎀

Ugh DI Cowboy Leon! You lucky mf I never have dreams like that 🥺

NSFW Under the Cut

CW: Fingering, Praise(kinda?)/Degradation, Man handling (if you squint), Begging, and inappropriate use of a saddle rack.

[Not Proof Read]

You're a new hire from the city after inheriting farm land from your grandfather after he dies and you don't know the first thing about running a farm. But thankfully there's another farm at the other side of town that focuses on animal by products and the owners was good friends with your grandpa. More than happy to teach you the ropes to get the farm back into shape.

So you go to work for Leon on his farm for the next few months per your agreement. What Leon didn't realize was how much of an ungrateful little brat you are. So spoiled by that daddy of yours he saw leave for the city and not turn back when he was a kid.

Constantly arguing with his reasoning (throwing tantrums), rolling your eyes, wasting his time but acting like he's wasting yours and most importantly having no god damn manners. He was doing something nice for a, seemingly, complete stranger and not once had you uttered a single "please" or "thank you". Not that he expected anything out of his kind gesture but he at least expected a thank you.

One evening after sending everyone home, he's irritated, having one of this worst days. He just needed to fix up one of the saddle upholstery and be done with everything for the night. He was on edge entering the stables. Reaching the storage area, he sees you. You're setting the riding gear back up. He specifically told you not to do this. But here you were. Not listening to him as usual.

"I told you not to put everythin' back." You look at him, huffing and rolling your eyes. He swears if you roll your eyes one more time...

"I thought you'd be thankful for me putting everything back. Since apparently no one else could do it." He feels his body tense as you drop the saddle on the floor. Bits of hay and bedding bursting up from the ground as you look at him. Moving past him you grab the few saddles you've put up on their racks, pulling them off to drop to the floor. Leon clenches his jaw, arms crossed as he stares you down.

"Happy?" You mutter, looking at him again. His lips pursed, smacking gently as he opens them.

"Are you a toddler?" You eyes go wide as he steps forward, moving into your personal space. Grabbing the damaged saddle off the floor and steps away throwing it on the standing rack.

"The hell do you mean by that?" Your anger rises as he scoffs, almost like he's about the blow the question off while he looks for his cobbler tool kit.

"You act like a god damn child. How you survived this long I honest to God have no idea!" That got under your skin, watching him turn towards the saddle, starting to assess the damage.

A child? You're not a child! How could you say such a thing? He doesn't know you.

"I'm not a child. You don't know me." He scoffs, glaring at you as you got closer. Getting into his personal space. He knows your type enough to not feel threatened or even anxious by how you're acting.

"Oh, I don't know you? I think I do."

"Enlighten me." He bites the inside of his cheek, trying to hold onto that small shred of rationality he had left before you used that mocking tone. He moves, putting you in between him and the saddle rack. His hands touch the leather of the saddle behind you, arms stiff and trapping you.

There's no escape.

"I know exactly how much of a selfish, entitled lil' brat you are. Walkin' 'round here acting' like you know everythin'." You move your legs, his foot plants between your legs, knee bending into thighs.

"I'm doin' this out of the kindness of my heart for you and you haven't even shown so much as a scrap of appreciation for it." The anger dies in his throat, his leg slipping forward, that's when he feels it.

Wetness seeping through the knee of his jeans, your pussy planted directly on top of it. A small whimper rips from your lips as you look away. Immediately embarrassed by your bodies reaction.

He doesn't even look remotely surprised as he looks down, bending his leg further up into you. Your hands going to grip the saddle behind you as your body moves on it's own. Forcing you on your tip toes. A scoff escapes him, smirk meeting your eyes as he pulls your gaze back to him by the chin.

"Shoulda known. It's always you uptight types that eat up bein' put in your place. You must think I'm delectable, don't you sweetheart?"

"F-fuck you..." His smirk quickly turns to a full blown grin.

"Is that an invitation?" You stutter out bits and pieces of words, making him chuckle as he leans down to your level.

"Lemme guess, those city boys ain't treatin' you right? Left you high and dry. Don't know how to handle your attitude? I could put you back in line if you let me." He moves in closer, lips brush against your neck as he plants wet kisses up to your ear.

"Come on, sugar. Tell me no and I'll stop." His hands fall on your hips, gliding around to your ass with a tight grip as he kisses your neck. Leaving a trail of hickeys to the front of your neck. A soft moan falls from your lips, making him laugh against your skin. Hands slide to your waist, starting to fiddle with your belt.

Unbuckling it enough to get your jean shorts undone and down your legs to the hard floors of the storage area. Leon whistles, looking down at your panties, juices soaked through the thin fabric. Clinging to you lips.

"You always this wet darlin'?"

"No..." He huffs with a cocy grin, thumbs making circles in your hip bones while he stares.

"Figures a stuffy ol' bitch like you would be like this. Just a couple'a words get you actin' up. Soakin' through your own undies like some kinda slut." He watches the fire in your eyes ignite, grabbing the frilly fabric and peeling it off your weeping cunt with a deep groan.

His hands move, fingers guided between your folds, brushing against your clit with a few teasing circles. You bite your lip, muffling a pathetic moan from coming out. He pushes the saddle off the rack with one hand, forcing you against the hard wood. Lips meet lips as he swallows your cries with his kisses, tongues dancing in a flurry of passion.

His fingers slip off your clit and circle your entrance before plunging forward. Tightness envelopes his digits, curling into that spongy spot that makes you pull away from his lips and gasp.

"Feels good don't it darlin'?" You just nod, thighs tightening around his arm when his thumb meets your clit. His name curling from you like the prettiest sound he's ever heard. Thighs shaking as he feels you tightening around his fingers. His hand pulls back, thumb, hand pressing flat against your mound with a gentle squeeze.

"Wha... Why'd you-"

"Beg for it." His hand rubs over your mound with the most gentle of touches, thumb poking past your lips to graze your clit.

"I..."

"You've been nothin' but a God damn thorn in my side since you got here. Beg for it. Prove you want it, be thankful I'm even thinkin' about letting you cum."

"Please, please Leon. I'm- I'm sorry I've been a pain." His lips curl, fingers moving past your lips again and slipping back into place. Thumb on clit and fingers working your g-spot. Your head falls back, a louder cry coming from you as he grabs the front of your neck.

"I didn't tell you to stop." You nod, huffing out a small curse.

"I'm so use to knowing and doing everything I'm just..." You tighten around him again, feeling that warm sensation in your stomach.

"A mouthy cunt." He finishes for you, you nod again, shutting your eyes tight, hips bucking into his hand.

"Yes, yes! I'm a mouthy cunt and I should have been more grateful! But- Please, I just wanna cum. So close." He picks up the pace, holding onto you. You mumble out incoherent "thank you"s as you cry out his name in a sharp breath. Cumming on his fingers. He rolls his hand against you, helping you ride out your orgasm, panting as your body falls limp against him. Huffing and puffing as he kisses the shell of your ear.

"Good girl, knowin' exactly what to say to make it up to me." He gives you a kiss on the lips, and a slap to the ass as he pulls back.

"You gonna be good from now on? Might come with a reward if you follow through with it."

"Yes, Sir." He chuckles, giving you another kiss.

"Sir... I like the sound of that."

[ownlittleuniverse]

snippet #2 - the villain surprises the hero

warning: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, harmful behavior, touchy villain (not nsfw), depictions and descriptions of physical violence, may be uncomfortable or triggering for some readers, reader discretion is advised.

The hero had been captured again, tied to a chair, blindfolded, and beaten to a pulp until the only thing they could taste, smell, feel, was their blood.

It was routine at this point.

Get captured, refuse to give up information, get a few new scars before their team showed up. At a certain point, these so-called villains became predictable. None of them truly scared the hero anymore.

The hero’s head came up at the sound of a door creaking open then slamming shut, footsteps following behind. They clenched their fists against their restraints, sighing, preparing themselves for another round of mediocre scare tactics.

The footsteps of the person started to become louder and louder, the hero could hear them slowly circling their chair like they were tracking prey.

They stopped right behind the hero, their breath tickling their ear, making the hero shiver behind their blindfold.

Their captors before had never gotten this close, at least without a weapon or some weak verbal threats. This felt… different somehow. It made the hero a bit antsy. Their chest became heavier as they listened to the sounds of the person’s even breathing.

Their gut was trying to tell them something.

Something was wrong-

Their heart stopped when they heard the person’s whispered voice.

“Hello, Darling.”

No.

The hero frantically jerked at their restraints but they wouldn’t budge, it only made the rope dig more into their body. Loud and panicked sounds escaped them as their heart started to beat in their head.

The person only chuckled at their attempts to free themselves.

No. No.

They— there… it’s not possible.

“Did you miss me?”

No. They needed to get out. Tears started to seep through their blindfold, as well as sweat as they jerked their head around. They couldn’t get out, they couldn’t even see where they were. The hero was frantic, horribly panicked, and the villain reveled in it.

The villain was the only one who could evoke genuine terror from their hero. Turn them into a screaming, begging mess at their feet.

The villain trailed their hand delicately over the hero’s neck, wrapping their fingers around them and stroking. The hero let out a choked whimper, their body completely shivering.

“You never thought you’d feel this again, did you?” The villain smiled, “My touch making you deliciously crazy?”

No. They didn’t. The villain was supposed to be dead.

The hero’s breathing grew more erratic by the second, more and more tears streamed down their face, mixing with the dried blood and stinging their fresh shallow cuts.

They saw their dead body. They buried them in that grave. They stuck that knife in their chest so many times they lost count as they watched the life drain out of them. How?

“It’s been far too long, my love,” the villain said, “I think we should relive some good memories.”

The hero couldn’t answer, only cry out and tried to wiggle their way out of their restraints again and again and again. It was a pity, the sight of someone trying to escape the inevitable.

The villain started to slowly lift the hero’s ripped sleeves, rolling them to expose their skin. No. No. No. Anything but that.

The villain watched in awe as their hero completely lost it and tried so hard to escape them, even though their hero was smart enough to know there was no hope. No one was coming to save them.

“Sh, sh, sh,” the villain cooed, their hand sickenly stroking the hero’s neck like comfort, “There’s no need for that, you know you're not escaping me.”

The villain trailed their hands softly up their hero’s arms, leaving goosebumps in their wake. They loved how their hero tried to push them off, completely losing it when the villain finally touched their scars.

They had dreamed of touching these sensitive things again. The deep scars they left all over. They hated the scars others dared to leave. They already killed those others who dared to call themselves ‘villains’, who dared to touch the hero. Only they were allowed to touch their little hero like this.

“All our fun times, etched into your skin,” the villain said in awe. Their hero tried to get out of their hold, their sobs echoing across the room.

The scars felt different this time, some of them. The hero must have tried to rid themselves of their marks, but failed miserably. How cute.

Their hero should know better than to try to rid themselves of the villain.

They continued to trace over the uneven skin, the memories of the many long lovely torture sessions they subjected their hero to flooding their brain, and they were sure their hero was reliving it too.

“Stop,” the hero whispered, choking on their sobs, “Please-

“Just like my scars,” they cut in, pressing delicate kisses to the skin making the hero’s body shiver, “I will never leave you, love.”

It has been so long since the hero felt that terror, the feeling of adrenaline rushing through their veins, their heartbeat reaching heights that could kill them. Their breathing was so rapid, their body was in a state of complete shock and panic.

They forgot what it felt like to be terrified, and they wished it stayed that way. They thought they made sure it would.

“But, you did leave me,” The villain dug into one of their scars, making them gasp, reopening it and letting their hero’s blood trickle down their fingers.

“You left me to rot in the ground,”

“I-I didn’t-”

“Let the world forget about me.”

The villain dug in deeper. The hero cried out.

“Let yourself forget about me,” the villain whispered, their breath over the hero’s mouth.

“I’m- sorry.. please— I’ll do-“

The hero jerked and sobbed again as the villain ripped off their blindfold, the light seering their eyes.

“Your begging is pitiful,” they spat.

The hero’s eyes adjusted to the sudden light as they looked up into the villain’s. They jerked their head away. Those same eyes haunted them when the hero slept, even when they thought they were buried deep underground.

The villain grabbed the hero’s chin, digging their nails into the skin and forced their head back up.

“You really thought you could get rid of me?” the villain snapped, venom lacing every syllable.

The hero sniffled, their eyes completely bloodshot from their tears.

“I’m not going anywhere,” the villain whispered with crazy in their eyes, “and neither are you.”

The hero couldn’t answer, only cry out as exhaustion took over their body. Their body stopped fighting, just twitching every so often from the adrenaline. They were slowly accepting their fate.

“I’m keeping you, Darling,” the villain smiled, stroking the hero’s chin, “and I promise you, this time, you’ll never be able to forget me.”

The hero whimpered a slur of incoherent words in response.

The villain loved their hero like this, shaking and on the verge of insanity knowing what things the villain was about to subject them to. It was a sight the villain was going to come back to every single day. They planned to come back every night, keep them tied up, bloodied and bruised, completely helpless and at their mercy. Then afterwards, they’ll really get to work on molding their hero into perfection.

The villain mercilessly tied the hero’s blindfold into a gag, enjoying the way the hero jerked in response, and took a syringe out. Their hero’s eyes winded, as they tried to plead behind the fabric, but the thing was too tight.

They sobbed. The hero knew what was coming next. They remembered, those memories were burned inside of them. Cut into their skin.

“Don’t worry,” they whispered, kissing their hero’s tear and blood-soaked cheek, “I’ll be all you ever think about soon enough.”

They could only cry and try to plead through their eyes, shaking their head. The villain though had no mercy for them whatsoever.

Their hero betrayed them. They stuck a knife in their heart when the villain let themselves believe someone actually cared for them, they finally let themselves trust and their little hero shattered it.

They stuck the syringe right in their scar. Their hero let out a scream of terror covered by the fabric.

Now it was only fair they would shatter them in return.

[tinfoil-jones]

Gravity Falls: For Your Own Good, Ch.20

Summary: A few years after moving to Gravity Falls and having his lab built, Stanford Pines happens upon his estranged twin brother, Stanley. He mentally prepared himself to be suffocated by his brothers neediness all over again - what he wasn't prepared for was Stanley walking right past him like he didn't even notice him.

Rating: M for language, violence, and adult implications

Preface: Dialogue only, but some actions will be annotated for clarity. Cross-Posted on AO3 Here.

Believe it or not a large section of this chapter was actually one of the first things I wrote for this story, it was written out before the first chapter actually and I’ve been really excited to show it. This chapter is super long and has shifting perspectives.

This chapter also mirrors Ch.10. This is a long chapter.

First - Prev - Next

WARNING: T/W implications of past sexual assault. Implied past torture. Character death.

CH.20

“So you’re gonna show me that super off-limits study room?”

“Yes. I only ask that you keep an open mind, and please do not judge me.”

“Alright PhD, I’ll only judge you the normal amount.”

“Come inside.”

“-Woah- ahhh. You really like …Triangles, huh?”

“Stanley, you’re shaking.”

“It uh, it kinda makes me uncomfortable, not gonna to lie. Are you in a cult?”

“No. Come here, follow me to the mat in the center.”

“Okay…”

“Now, what do you think of this? Does it remind you of anything?”

“A newspaper clipping? Uh… That’s a pretty messed up car- oh, wait, yeah it does remind me of something.”

“What does it remind you of?”

“I used to have a car just like that. A red El Diablo.”

“And what happened to it?”

“...I don’t remember, actually. I’m trying to remember but it just makes my brain feel like it's on fire.”

“How did I not see this before…?”

“See what?”

“Stanley, when you were first traveling with Sanchez, were you sick at all?”

“Oh yeah, totally sick. I had this massive chest infection. Kept knocking the air mask off when I was delirious. If Rick didn’t constantly shoot me up with weird sci-fi drugs, it probably woulda killed me.”

“Don’t say things like that.”

“Where’re these questions coming from Doc?”

“I’ll explain soon, but I need to show you something else. Sit down on the floor.”

“Okay…?”

“I’m going to sit back-to-back with you. I need you to fall asleep.”

“You want me to… sleep?”

“Yes.”

“Doc, you know I got problems sleeping.”

“I doubt it will be a problem this time. I’m going to meditate, but I need you to sleep.”

“You’re not setting me up for some ritual sacrifice, right?”

“Do you trust me?”

“...”

“You don’t have to answer that. Either meditate or sleep, whichever comes first. But I’m going to meditate.”

“...Alright. But if you cut my heart out and sacrifice it to the math gods or whatever, I’m haunting you.”

(...)

“Stanley.”

“Huh? Where are we?”

“The dreamscape. Specifically, we are in your dreamscape. You could also call it the mindscape. It’s a metaphysical representation of your mind.”

“You can beam yourself into people's minds?”

“Within limitations, yes. If I were to do so when the person is awake, I could only access their surface thoughts and memories. If the person were asleep, I could go a bit deeper and see their dreams, but I wouldn’t be able to easily traverse, and some deeper, more unconscious memories can’t be accessed.”

“So… Ya brought me here? What for?”

“We can access your mind deeper. But I need your permission to do so.”

“You can un-bury all of my lost memories?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to force it. I want to help you… but I know this is painful; both not knowing, and knowing. Do you want to know your real past? Even if it meant you’d have to remember why you forgot it all in the first place?”

“...Yeah. I think- hey what’s that thing coming out of your chest? Is that a rope?”

“...Yes, how did you-”

“I think I have that same thing, hold on, lemme just-”

“You’ve never been here, how would you-.”

“See, same thing. Is it supposed to do something?”

*Ford in shock suddenly grabs at the severed ends of both ropes and tries desperately to push them back together, but the ends keep repelling each other like magnets with the same charge*

“Hey doc, I don’t think you’re gonna attach ‘em like that.”

“Why isn’t it working? It’s supposed to work. It needs to-.”

“Woah! Calm down, PhD. Aren’t we here to dig up the past?”

“Right, right. We’ll get back to that. Do I want to know why your mindscape resembles a gambling lounge?”

“I spent a lot of time in a place called Lottocron Nine before I was banned from it.”

(...)

“Have you been in my mind before?”

“...Yes, during one of your sessions with Fiddleford.”

“...What kind of session?”

“An interview.”

“Oh, thank god. So ya just… broke into my mind?”

“Stanley, I understand if you are feeling-.”

“That’s really cool.”

“...What? You’re not upset?”

“Pft, I’ve broken into houses, cars, shops, warehouses; and even the Infinetentiary, twice . A persons mind though? That’s hardcore.”

“You’re being awfully candid about your multidimensional adventures with Sanchez.”

“There’s no point in hiding it now. You learned the first time you went into my mind, didn’t ya? That's how you knew who I was talking about when I mentioned Rick.”

“You’re handling this rather well.”

“Doc, we’ve both seen some crazy shit. This dreamwalking stuff isn’t even in the top ten.”

(...)

“FORRESTER!”

“Catch you on the flipside, sucker!”

“God, I hated that guy.”

“That IRS agent… What’s his name?”

“Agent Powers, why?”

“Just putting a name to a face.”

(...)

“I don’t like remembering this.”

“Tell us where your boss is hiding, and maybe we’ll spare that ugly mug of yours.”

“You think anything you do is gonna be worse than what Jimmy will do to me if I rat her out? I’ll take my chances with your sleazy ass.”

“This ‘Jimmy’ is female?”

“Yeah. Jimmy Snakes is just a street name. Other bikers wouldn’t take her seriously if they knew from the bat she was a chick. Her real last name is Jiménez.”

“But the J is pronounced as a-”

“Yeah, but guess how everyone who doesn’t speak Spanish tries to pronounce it when they read it?”

“Tough talk, Alcatraz. But everyone's got a limit.”

*the gangster takes the lit cigarette out of his mouth and brings it closer to Stan*

“Yeah, we don’t needa see this.”

*the memory suddenly blacks out but a sizzling noise is still heard*

(...)

“Stanley, this is a pit memory. These are memories your unconscious mind has been hiding from you.”

“Do we just, ya know, jump in?”

“Yes. In a way, it is like the bottomless pit, we would fall back right where we started, or your mental defenses could forcefully-.”

“Screw that, I’m imagining stairs.”

“You can’t just imagine -”

“Violá. Stairs.”

“...”

“What? This is my mind, anything I can imagine should be possible, right?”

“It should not be this easy for you. It takes months of rigorous meditation to-.”

“Maybe it woulda been easier for you to control what's in your head if it wasn’t so far up your ass all the time.”

(...)

“I don’t remember this.”

“It’s the science fair incident I told you about.”

“This is all your fault, ya dumb machine!”

“And now you’re about to-...”

“Oh no. Oh no, no, what did I do?”

“Man, did I fuck up or what?”

“There. Alright. Good as new. Probably.”

“...Stanley. You- you didn’t ruin my machine on purpose?”

“I don’t see you anywhere, but it looks like it.”

“You only hit the table …”

“Does it matter? The results are the same.”

"Stanley, I haven't been honest with you about this incident. After this, yes we fell out, but our father overheard and-."

"And he kicked me out? Yeah, I know."

"You know?"

"Yeah... I think I always did. Just didn't wanna."

"But... I lied to you about it. I told you that you chose to leave."

"Dude. All I fuckin do is lie. I'm not feeling like being a hypocrite today."

"You're not mad at me? I turned my back on you!"

"Get in line, PhD. Rico outed me to the Aryan Brotherhood. Rick cheated on me with an Alien Hivemind. Jimmy chased me for fifty miles on the interstate on a flaming motorcycle trying to drag out my soul with bottles and chains. You got tired of my shit and told me to buzz off? Big deal!"

"I ruined your life..."

"I ruined my own life. It's kinda my thing, ya know."

(...)

“No- no. Oh, no. We can’t stay here, we need to leave.”

“This looks like the homeless shelter from Glass Shard Beach.”

“Hey- sir? Can ya help me with something?"

"Watcha need, kid?"

"I haven't been to one of these places before and its kinda-"

'Scary - no, I can't say that out loud. He'll think I'm being a baby.'

"It's kinda new to me. I heard there were phones here that don't charge ya?"

'I wanna call ma...'

"There sure is, just follow me."

"We need to leave."

"Stanley, what-?"

"We need to leave we can't stay here we need to-"

"This isn't- wait, what're ya d-? Hey!”

“Brats like you are too damn easy.”

“Back off you piece a-!”

WACK

“Why isn’t this memory blacking out, I’m trying to end it-.”

“Get offa me! Stop!”

“I don’t wanna remember this.”

“Stanley, I’m so sorry. I had no idea-.”

“Cry all you want, it won't help you.”

*the memory blacks out*

(...)

“...Do you want to talk about it?”

“ No. ”

“Okay. I won’t make you.”

“I think this pit over here is the one that… ya know, made me forget everything.”

“You are sure it’s this one?”

“There’s a giant neon sign over there that says ‘Do Not Enter: Everything is Worse’.”

“How considerate of your subconscious.”

“…I don’t think I can go any further. Go on without me.”

“Stanley-.”

“Stanford. I’m giving you permission to see that memory, whatever it is. I’m not going to kick you out of it. Just tell me what you saw after you get out, and we’ll go from there.”

“You are okay with that? Are you sure?”

“You asked me outside if I trusted ya. Here’s your answer.”

(...)

‘Moses, the fog’s getting pretty bad… can’t see shit’

‘Ain’t safe with all the curves ahead’

‘I should take a stop soon and wait for it to clear’

‘Huh? What’s up with my breaks?’

‘WHY ISN’T IT WORKING? WHY?’

‘He didn’t! That son of a-’ 

SCREECH

CRASH

Fwooosh!

‘Fuck! I gotta stay calm- I’ve gotten out of worse’

‘Ugh the smokes getting really thick-.’

‘Why isn’t the seat belt unbuckling? I don’t have a lotta time here.’

‘Where’s my strap cutter? Why isn’t it-!’

‘I’m really lightheaded…’

‘Can’t-’.

‘It’s too hot-.’

‘I’m trapped.’

‘I-I can’t breathe.’

*Stanley reaches up and pulls the picture of himself and Ford, which is on fire, off of the sun visor. It burns up into ash within his hands, which then start shaking*

"That was all I had... Now I have nothing. And I have nobody... I'm… alone."

‘I'm alone…’

‘I'm alone.’

*the memory suddenly blacks up, and then the scene changes and he’s looking at Rick Sanchez as he lies on the floor of his space cruiser. Ricks words are muffled at first*

'Where am I?'

'Who's this guy?'

'He tased me? Is this a cop?'

'Why was I in the woods?'

'Catatonic...?'

“This isn’t going anywhere. Can you tell me your name?”

'I'm alone' 

“It’s…? I... 'm alone . Wait. It’s- Stan.”

“Stan Malone huh? My name’s Rick Sanchez.”

(...)

“I do not understand… I suspected the car accident was the catalyst, but how did he escape? Did Sanchez rescue him and lie about it? What would he gain from that?”

“Nope!”

“Bill?”

“You know you can’t go anywhere without me, Fordsy.”

“Why did you wait until now to show yourself?”

“Dramatic entrance, of course!”

“...Right. Why doesn’t Stanley remember escaping his burning car?

“Because he didn’t. He died of smoke inhalation right there.”

“... What ?”

“Yeah. He died. Ironically, of suffocation. Isn’t that hilarious, Sixer? He used to suffocate you, and that ended up being the thing that killed him.”

“CIPHER! Whatever cruel joke you are trying to-.”

“Joke? I’m hurt Fordsy, I know when to be serious.”

“He didn’t die! We are in his mindscape! He’s asleep right behind me in the waking world!”

“Oh, Sixer… Your mommy was right when she said denial like this isn’t healthy.”

“STOP PLAYING THESE GAMES WITH ME BILL CIPHER.”

“Alright, alright. Here, let me give you a sneak peak of what happened between the scenes; he doesn’t remember, because it happened in his mindscape. So here’s my memory of what happened.”

“Your-?”

SNAP

(...)

“Hey there slick! Things getting too hot to handle?”

“What are you supposed to be?”

“Call me a guardian angel.” 

“Are all angels as geometric as you?”

“I took a form that would be comforting to you. I’m the symbol on the back of the money, you like money right?”

“Yeah.”

“Well there we go! I’m here to help you.”

“... Why?”

“I’m a friend of a friend. And that friend would very much hate it if you burnt to death here. Shake my hand and I can get you out.”

“What’s in it for you?”

“Like I said, friend of a friend. Just shake my hand. I’ll have temporary use of your body, and you’ll get to live.”

“I’d sooner chew up and spit out a gold chain before I fall for some Faustian bargain. No ones ever been nice to me in my entire life; there’s no reason my death would be any different. Leave me alone.”

“What about your family?”

“They won’t be surprised, there’s no way they didn’t see something like this coming. I’m surprised I lasted this long.”

“What about your brother? Your twin? You’re two halves of a whole - are you really going to leave him to live the rest of his life incomplete?”

“I’m the incomplete one, I failed by myself. But he can stand on his own.”

“Don’t you realize this will devastate him?”

“... I know it will.”

“Then why aren’t you taking this deal? Fordsy isn’t going to get over this. I know everything about him, and I’m telling you he never will. This will haunt him the rest of his natural life. The same way it would haunt you if he died.”

“If you’re such a Stanford expert, would he ever think I’d take a deathbed deal with a floating triangle in a top hat and fake eyelashes?”

“The eyelashes were a low blow. But, I’ll give it to you, slick; he does know you would never fall for flattery and trickery. But he’d also agonize why you’d give up like this.”

“There’s giving up, and there’s acceptance. Every decision I’ve ever made has led up to this. And most of them were the wrong ones. The consequences have caught up to me, and there’s nowhere to run anymore.”

“You’re choosing now of all times to accept the consequences of your actions?”

“Might as well, it’s the last chance I can.”

“You are going to die here. Stanley Romanoff Pines, if you don’t take a deal with me in the next minute you will die.”

“Guess I get one whole minute to reflect on everything huh?”

“And what would you reflect on?”

“If you’re really friends with my brother… if he ever asks about me for some reason, could you tell him that I love him?”

*a rope suddenly appears, with one end fading into Stanley’s chest. The other end appears to fade off into the distance*

“What’s this supposed to be?”

“Your twin bond with Sixer.”

“That’s a real thing, no shit?”

“Yes. It’s how I found you, actually. IQ was getting this sinking feeling of dread and didn’t know why, so I just followed it without telling him.”

“Does that mean he’ll feel it when-.”

“Yes.”

*Stanley looks at the rope before grabbing it with both hands, and pulling it in opposite directions until it’s broken into two. The end not connected to him disappears.*

“He doesn’t need to know what dying feels like.”

“...He doesn’t want you dead. He never hated you.”

“I know. But he doesn’t need to worry about supporting all of this dead weight. Ha! Get it? Dead weight! …Dead weight? It’s funny because I’m about to be dea-”

(...)

“-and he died exactly how he lived; making stupid jokes that no one but him finds funny- except for you, I can see even though you’re crying, you’re also trying really hard not to laugh .”

*Ford covers his face with his hands in grief*

“...That was a good one…”

“I waited for his heart to stop before I could take over - I can possess corpses you see, and for those fleeting minutes, he counted as one. I flexed just enough of my power to drag him out of his car - had to wait for that stuck seat belt to burn enough to rip - but all of that activity re-started his heart and brought him back, kicking me out of his body.

I had enough time to change some things - kept enough oxygen in his blood supply to prevent brain damage, deleted his fear of heights so he could climb out of the ravine, and rewired his optic nerves so he didn’t need glasses anymore - he wasn’t going to get any for himself anytime soon, he won’t need them until he gets cataracts at fifty-seven.

Anyways, that’s the real reason he was immune to that green cryptid; his worst nightmare was dying alone, and he already went through that.”

“...Why didn’t you tell me any of this?”

“You didn’t ask. Not me. Not anyone. Not even yourself.”

“...”

“You always pushed your thoughts of him into the corner of your mind, Sixer. In your journals, any mention of him you’d cross out or write in a code. I saved him because I know you care about him. I didn’t tell you what happened because you wanted him out of sight, and out of mind.”

“Bill!”

“It’s true, isn’t it? And look at that, he still made his way back to you. Either that twin bond was magnetically pulling him towards its broken half, or I left just enough of an impression on his mind that the weirdness of Gravity Falls drew him here.”

“You left an impression on my brothers mind?”

“It’s like when you crinkle paper, Sixer. You can try to smooth it out all you want, but there’s still going to be traces that something happened. There’s not pieces of me left in his mind, if that’s what you’re worried about. He didn’t make a deal with me, unlike you. He just picked up some of my tendencies. Definitely explains why he uses nicknames so much, doesn’t it?”

“This is my nightmare.”

“This is the dreamscape.”

“...Why did you repress his memories?”

“You think I did that? Sixer, he died . You don’t come back from that the same way you were before.”

“Then why would he still remember most of the last ten years of his life, but not being kicked out or his entire life before that?”

“Fordsy, you heard his last conscious thoughts, and those became a self-fulfilling prophecy. Before he passed out and then away, all he could focus on was how alone he felt. His brain did that thing all human brains tend to do; hid all the stuff that would hurt him more.”

“...No, he wouldn’t-.”

“Sixer. I know you can see the truth, you can’t hide your thoughts from me; why bother remembering himself, why bother remembering loving people when they didn’t bother to remember him, not even when he needed them the most?”

“...”

“Oh, goody, now you’re crying! Don’t worry, I know exactly what to do in situations like this. I don’t care if you don’t understand the reference, you’re not the one who’s supposed to.”

*Bill conjures up and then starts playing the Nightmare Realms smallest violin*

To be continued…