#He has entered my brain and my muse and will not leave how did this happen

[ohbo-ohno]

I am deeply invested in the idea where the reader does something to severely piss Simon off, like it gets to a point where he has to step away to cool his head. So he just ends up grabbing her by the back of her neck and roughly jerking her towards Johnny’s cage and shoving her in it.

She goes to open her mouth— only Simon shakes his head slowly and crouches down in front of the cage. He watches them with dark eyes, radiating anger and it’s enough to get reader to be quiet, heart racing in their chest.

Simon tells them that if they speak without permission then he’ll gag them. Reader watches in confusion as he just chucks a thin blanket over the cage and just leaves.

Readers panicked at this point because Simon was the predictable one, Simon had a pattern— one he wasn’t following. Instead he’s set one rule for them, leaving them unbalanced, hesitant and scared. They don’t want to test him, not with the cold way he looked at them. So they do what he says and sit quietly without saying a word. Eventually you drift off.

(Simon checks you later, something softening just slightly at when he pulls the sheet back a bit to see you fast asleep. He muses to himself that he’ll have to get another muzzle, one your size.

Meanwhile he has to come up with a suitable punishment and waits for Johnny to get home.)

Is 🍋 anon taken?

hahahahahaha oh my FUCKING god

sometimes i think maybe i blacked out and sent these anons to myself. you plucked this directly from my brain lemon

you've been getting more comfortable with them, which means you enter the next stage of training - making sure you walk that good behavior-bad behavior line. they want you to be you still, but they do also have a bit of a 24/7 bdsm dynamic going on which means no pushing the disrespect too far. it's how simon and johnny functioned, so it's how you function in their dynamic too

you've "preferred" simon since the start of your captivity just because he's somewhat predictable - which is entirely intentional on his part. if you know he'll react, you'll know how to act. but whatever you did to simon (dont ask idk) pushes him firmly past his tolerance and he just snaps. treats you like he does johnny

forces you to the floor, drags you by your hair behind you and practically throws you into johnny's crate (too big for you, in his mind. the cage is meant to be constricting but it's practically roomy for you) and can't slow his heaving breaths. hunches over the cage and stares right into your eyes, snarls that if you can't sit in time out and shut up he'll muzzle you, leave you in there til the next morning no matter what. throws a thick blanket over the crate and leaves you in the dark

comes back what must be hours later, a little calmer now. tugs the blanket off and looks down at your trembling form with a tightness around his lips. feeds you dinner through the bars with his fingers, lets you sip from a water bottle a little. covers you back up. ignores whatever you try and says, doesn't say a word in return

the next time the blanket is lifted it's johnny, crouching onto the floor in front of you so you're on eye level. looks real sympathetic but also real condescending :( coos to you to hold on til morning, he'll give you all the cuddles you want when your punishment is over. simon snaps at him to get in bed unless he wants to spend the night with you

[mythicamagic]

Death Comes Knocking

AN: Not finishing projects seems to be the norm right now- so just take this lil 1,000 words of Lobo/Muerte x reader bc he gave me brain worms okay? Puss in Boots The Last Wish was so good you guys omg.

Pairing: Muerte x Female Reader

Rating: T

Summary: She's given a stern warning. 'No more of your kind are allowed' so she extends an offer to Death in return.

---

She’s seen him before, on the faces of those she’d loved. Their eyes would glaze over and become empty, void of all animation, becoming quiet and still as they took their last breaths. There- in the right hand corner of that glassy void in their pupils- the shadow of Death could be briefly seen, passing over and stealing all light.

The silk spinner has witnessed this countless times- from the luxury of these people’s bedsides as they peacefully passed, to freak accidents involving one too many drunken unicorns and a travelling puppet show. The world she inhabited was colourful, vibrant and endless- so it stood to reason that in this world, Death himself could be a real, breathing creature.

She just never expected to gain a personal audience with him.

“You’re becoming lonesome, inmortal.”

The woman jumped, startled so badly she lost grip on the white sheet she’d been taking down. A large hand snapped out to catch it mid-air, slowly lowering it back down to her in offering. It took a moment for her frozen hands to accept it, gazing up at the creature looming over her washing line. His shadow swallowed her whole. He gazed at her with a kind of unblinking- red eyed fixation- the kind that betrayed his identity before the suffocatingly still atmosphere did, as if time itself had frozen.

A wolf had entered her garden.

“Hate to be a bother…but when you get lonely it becomes a problem for me,” he continued in his perfectly polite tone. There was a faint, gravelly edge to his voice, but it hummed pleasantly in her ears rather than frightened her.

Recovering from her shock, the silk spinner folded her sheet and placed it atop a waiting pile.

“How so?” she found her voice.

“Well, you repeat the cycle, of course- the one that led you here,” he wandered around her humble garden, taking care to weave around bird feeders and windchimes without so much as a strand of fur brushing them. He moved on two legs like any human, not an odd sight. The graceful fluidity of his movements was alarming though. Deliberate and predatory. He was looping around her in a lazy circle that was slowly tightening. “It’s only natural…everyone’s predictable in a few certain ways: one of them is the universal truth that when you get lonely, you seek company,” he mused, finally stopping before her. “And the company of mortals just isn’t cutting it anymore, is it? Hm, my friend?”

He stood a good several feet taller than her. Not even attempting to crane her neck up, the woman tidied her basket and lifted it as if readying to walk back into her tiny cottage. “I’m fine. I don’t need anyone. They all die eventually, I’m not sure why you’re worried.”

With that said she took a step, only to find her wicker basket snagging on something- a sickle. The wolf practically used it as a fish-hook, turning her back to face him, and this time she had no choice but to gaze down the grey expanse of his muzzle straight into those vibrant red eyes.

“You’re not listeniiing~” he sing-songed in a gentle, cajoling tone full of too much teeth. He tilted his head with a patronising smile. “What cycle led you here?”

As if she could forget. “My creator was…lonely,” she murmured. “So, he made me, and eventually more of my kind.”

“Right you are! And I’m not such a big fan of that. Of your…kind,” a single deadly claw skimmed her cheek in a whisper of steel on flesh. The suggestion of it sent her heart racing. “You’re all so heavy. I can feel you.” All at once the playfulness vanished from his expression, leaving only a quiet sense of malice and frustration in his tight whisper. “The world won’t withstand the weight of too many of you.”

“So you’re here to stop me before I can even think about creating more immortals, is that it?”

“Bingo! My work here is done,” the wolf leaned back with satisfaction, and it felt like the garden could breathe again. Air entered her lungs, and the silk spinner shuddered quietly when his shadow drew away, allowing sunlight to kiss her skin anew.

With his silent warning given, the wolf swung his previously concealed sickle up onto his shoulder and happily strolled toward her humble gate, whistling an eerie tune.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she murmured, so quietly it was a surprise he heard her at all. But he halted immediately in his tracks. She could see his hackles rise a little just beneath the folds of his hood. “I’m not afraid, so there’s no reason for me to listen to you- Muerte.”

Death turned and met her even gaze. His silver fur fanned gently in the breeze, his tail flicking with agitation.

“Oho I really don’t think you want to go there,” light glinted off his sharp rows of teeth, the points glinting like treacherous mountain peaks. “True I can’t harvest your soul, but you’ve seen the life flashing before people’s eyes as I’ve taken them.”

He was suddenly there before her again, tilting her chin up with the flat of his blade. Her body automatically tensed, watching as the black specs of his pupils shined white, two moons hanging in a blood-soaked sky. “You were there, just as much as I was. You know- cordera- how painful it can be. How painful I can make it,” hot, panting breath fanned over her upturned face. Those rows of teeth were now inches from her ear as he leaned in close. “You won’t die, no- but are you really prepared to suffer me, over and over again, for breaking the rules?”

She swallowed. It was impossible not to picture the numerous grizzly ways she’d seen or heard people die.

Satisfaction leaked into his animalistic features. “Heh, thought so. Be seeing you.”

But I…I’m still alone.

Before he turned away, Death seemed to notice her expression. “If you’re really that hungry for company, then find the other heavy ones weighing this world down.”

“I don’t uh- get on well with the others,” she admitted weakly, knuckles relaxing from her death grip on the wicker basket. “We’d be living together if we enjoyed each other’s company.”

“Touché.“ He shrugged his large shoulders, resting a sickle on one with a bored look. “Well it’s not my problem, figure it out on your own time.”

Alarm flashed through her chest inexplicably as he finally turned away.

“Wait-“

“Carajo!” he hissed, glaring at her like she’d overstayed her welcome despite him being the one to approach her home. “What is it now?”

“Since you’re the one who has a problem with me creating fellow immortals- but I’m still hungry for company- the solution is right under our noses, no?” She smiled and dropped her basket to spread her arms wide, gesturing to the humble space situated on the mountainside. “You will become my companion.”

It amused her to see his dark features become blank with genuine surprise. His triangular ears perched upon his head flicked and flattened to his skull as if he’d tasted something sour.

“Cómo fue?”

“You are Death incarnate,” she said, confidence filling her tone the more she spoke. Yes- why hadn’t she thought of it before? This was perfect. “You won’t die- and I can’t be killed and won’t age. It makes sense to keep each other company.”

“You want…my company? Mine?” He shot her a look like she was crazy.

“Is that a problem?”

He tilted his head, falling silent for a long, silent moment. His eyes narrowed, sweeping over her frame as he stalked closer. “…You must be starving very badly, if your need has driven you to beg for me to be in your midst. Only the souls of the suicidal and desperate call for me.”

“I’m not quite that far gone in my apathy for life. I’m 500 years young,” she smiled, offering her human hand out to his monstrously large, silver furred one to stop him from baring too harshly down on her, stopping him in his tracks. “But yes, I am…famished,” the admission slipped out oddly breathlessly, though she was uncertain why.

His mouth slowly upturned, sizing her up in an entirely different way from before. Intrigue, perhaps? He looked just as hungry as she felt.

“Well, well. What big eyes you have,” he purred, gazing at her intently with a wicked gleam in his own red hues.

She returned his smile with one full of teeth as her hand became engulfed in fur and warmth.

From that day on, Pygmalion’s immortal bride kept Death’s company whenever he had a moment to spare.

---

End

[regretisstoredintheme]

Hello! Can I be so humble as to request 2k12 Donatello with a gn villain/antihero reader who is really good with tech. Sorta like Reagan Ridley from inside job, if you know what that is?

Thank you in advance and have a amazing day/night!

Cruisin on down Main Street, you’re rel— HMMM???? 

What’s this??

*snatches paper*

“Hello! Can I be so humble as to request 2k12 Donatello with a gn villain/antihero reader who is really good with tech. Sorta like Reagan Ridley from inside job, if you know what that is? 

Thank you in advance and have a amazing day/night! “

A/N: Hello, humble anon! Why of course!! I love writing 2k12 ;) and might I add I hope you have an amazing day/night too!!

-

Donnie x Villian/Antihero!Reader Whos good with tech 

Warnings(?): Donnie being the “wabadubadubaduba” audio, mention of the situation with Leo and Karai (no, I don’t ship it), and I have seen the character but not Inside Job, itself. So if you meant personality-wise I’m so sorry 😭😭 I did my best.

-

Donnie didn’t have many flaws, the thought. 

One was hiding his feelings, and the other was handling stress. 

You, my dear, just happen to push at every button he has.

With how tech-savvy you are, he didn’t even try not to nerd out over you.

That was until his brothers scolded asked him to stop

If you take an interest in him/target him with your tech, he starts freaking out, begging for backup from his brothers 

He can’t stop overanalyzing the situation because of the stress

Blabbers about you nonstop once they defeat/escape you, talking about how he has to figure you out because you “won’t give up.”

Someone mentions him acting like how Leo acted with Karai.

BOY DID THAT GET HIM CRANKY

Hes yelling at them and won’t stop denying it until he’s like “here I’ll prove  you wrong!” And he draws a ven diagram of the differences.

As he’s writing it out, he realizes— 

There isn’t a lot of differences. 

There are big ones, like Karai literally being their sister, but not a lot of them. 

Leo suggests that since Karai realized her error, maybe Donnie should try to convince you!

Donnie mouths off to him about how the only reason Karai was good was because she was living a lie. 

Don storms off and Leo just watches him leave like o_o ( he turns to Mikey like “what did I say?” 

Donnie leaves the lair in a huff, and unfortunately for him, runs into you. 

After a thrilling battle, (him evading your tech while trying not to freak out about it) he starts off some banter, indirectly getting to know you— the brain he so desperately wants to pick.

Without thinking, he slips in a comment asking about why you would want to be corrupt with a brain like yours.

His reaction is different based on what you say.

If you ignore him with a sort of falter and try to change the topic, his interest is immediately piqued, he’s full of curiosity, now. There’s nothing stopping him from evading attacks when he knows you have something he wants. He shoves away the idea of his brothers teasing him over doing what Leo did, and just focuses on getting you to talk. 

If you give a chaotic neutral response, (“why not?” Etc.) He’s barely evading your attacks, trying to yell at you the millions of reasons he just came up with on the spot. Any way you evade his argument just makes him angrier, and eventually, he smoke bombs away, entering the lair even angrier than when he left it. 

Later when they fight you, he’s just trying to get it over with. He will deny the fascination he has with you and your tech, but inside he knows he wants to know more. Your banter throws him off, making some attacks hit him a lot easier, and eventually, he starts feeling a little warm in the face when he hears you talk

“I’m telling you, sensei. Everytime I think the shock factor will wear off, It just keeps giving me more symptoms!” He rants to Splinter, who knew exactly what had happened. “It seems to me, Donatello,” he muses, a hand to his beard, “It is a fracture in your mind. You should meditate on it.”

Splinter knows damn well what is going on, but doesn’t want to encourage “fraternizing with the enemy,” espECIALLY if that enemy shows little to no remorse for what they do. 

Donatello doesn’t know what else to do, so he listens. 

He sits, and he takes deep breaths, and he thinks about you and can’t seem to calm that fluttering ‘anger’ in his chest. 

You twisted him up inside, and it pissed. him. off. 

“Focus.. I just gotta focus!” 

—

A/N: HI! I hope this was something like what you wanted— I feel like its not as good as my other ones— but then again I don’t know 2012 as well as rise- not to mention i dont know Donnie that well either 😭 I did my best I hope it’s up to your expectations, you wonderful anon!!

[hellsdogs]

The spectacle awaiting for him down the floor of his apartment left him standing by the door the moment he opened it. Silence. It's the frame of a portrait he photographed of her : completely broken, torn, pieces of glass scattered everywhere. That photo, he took it a week ago and he framed it, as a gift for her. The size of the frame? One meter per one and a half, a frame so large it was impossible to enter a room without seeing it. Indeed, it was hanged on the wall right above his couch, right in front of the frontdoor before she destroys it in his absence. It isn't new to him, her anger, her loss of control, this deep rooted hatred for her own image. He adored that in her, it was what made her the most beautiful, to him. One would expect for Sen to be devastated at the sight, to be sad and angry that this gift he has spent time on, worked so hard on hasn't be appreciated. Oh he is sad - but only sad he couldn't witness her destroy it. He walks in, circling in the room, imagining her, replaying the scene in his twisted little imagination : she invited herself into his apartment, spotted the frame - she lost it, grabbed it, slammed it. Once. She grabbed it again and smashed it, twice. He bends as his fingers travel over the wood of the frame, cracked : it wasn't enough for her, she went insane on it a little more, her platforms shoes hit it a few times, she accidently cut herself, she bled. His finger travel down the red droplet, dried on the carpet - and then she tore it, from top to bottom, she tore that gigantic photo in half. Fuck. Fuck. FUCK. He fucking missed it. STUPID. STUPID. How beautiful she must have looked in this heavenly trance, this raw marvelous rage. Ever since Akina ended up on his camera, it became this infernal cycle of creation and destruction. Do you like it, do you hate it, but I love that you hate it, but I want you to love it, I won't delete it, Make me delete it, Do you wanna hurt me, hurt me then. It became an obsession for him, to make her one of his muses, for her to let him worship her, immortalize her - she wouldn't. Was she disgusted by him? The thought of his eyes constantly lingering on her? The thought of his mind twisting with this need to submit to her? Was she disgusted by herself? By this version of her he would expose, reveal, frame? If one could crack Sen's skull open and dig with a spoon whatever fucked up thoughts were basking into this brain of his, one could say he did it on purpose. To leave it right there for her to see it, for her to hate it, for her to become even more beautiful to his eyes while losing it. He didn't waste a second, grabbing tape he kept in the drawer in the kitchen, big large tape he violently put all over the frame, franctically grabbing the pieces of glass and wood he could patch together. On that gigantic picture of hers, her eyes don't even align anymore, a part of her lips is missing, there are holes, like some sort of frankenstein monstrosity. He carries it, under his arm, his camera on the other, as usual and slams the door behind his back. If she has the keys of his place, he has hers too. He didn't knock on the door, simply opened the door to go insane, to find her. It's the door of her apartment that opens now, and he is behind. Standing, his inexpressive eyes on. "What now." He speaks, his eyes never letting go of her, throwing the tapped frame down the floor with one hand as he makes a step in, stopping again. "You didn't like my present?"

    for @wellfell from permanant starter call

[phantom-writess]

ALYSM

CHAPTER FOUR - of a crepe and brief encounters

CHIYO walked around Tokyo, trying to figure out what she should eat. She has never been very picky, a result of her upbringing.

‘Maybe cold soba,’ Was a passing thought in her mind, ‘It’s far too warm out for anything hot.’

She didn’t want to simply sit down somewhere while trying to decide on what to eat for lunch so she was walking around aimlessly by any and all means. A street vendor was selling crepes, and Chiyo, as eagerly as she was capable of, walked over. The wait was short, and she smiled gratefully at the vendor as she paid.

‘500 yen for a crepe is a pretty good deal,’ The soft musing entered her mind, ‘I should really remember where this place is. Maybe I could bring Toge here.’

The pastry of the crepe was still warm, but the filling—ice cream, chocolate syrup with strawberries—was cold, as it should be. It soothed the heat that was beginning to build under her cardigan. Sweat was starting to bead beneath her collar, and if her palms were in a state that they often were, they would have stung from sweat entering cuts. She continued to walk around the city as she ate, enjoying her time off school grounds without any purpose now. Most often, whenever she left school grounds, it was to exorcize curses. ‘I don’t even know how long it has been since I was last off campus without an assignment,’ She thought, her inner voice held a bite of bitterness, as it often did. ‘You’d think that given my situation, they’d be more hesitant to send me on a mission. Maybe they really are trying to kill me,’ Her final thought was followed by a small scoff.

The contemplations of her own death were halted as she passed by a particularly long and dark alleyway, a feeling of dread filling her body. Her blood was ice and her limbs were frozen in motion. She couldn’t breathe as the sudden realization dusked upon her.

Someone had just died in that alley.

It was a feeling she hadn’t felt in years. A person’s heart stopping, their blood ceasing to move.

The feeling came far too quick to be natural. Even when a person went into cardiac arrest, there was still some activity in their other organs. But every organ in that body suddenly shut down. There was no way to resuscitate them after that, they were dead in every meaning of the word. No brain activity, no function in other organs. A cadaver.

The feeling of death and wrong left her body slowly, the grip loosening its grip on her body. “What… the hell was that,” Her words came out as a broken whisper, filled with deep breaths and gasps. She leaned against one of the walls that made up the alley, a hand pressed to her chest. “Of course something like this happens the first time in months I get to be off campus without dealing with a curse.” She sighed, before turning to begin walking back to school.

When Chiyo arrived at the grounds of Tokyo Jujutsu Technical School, she was surprised to see Todo, a third year student from the school in Kyoto, fighting Megumi. A sigh escaped her mouth, a quickly developing habit, before she began to quickly walk towards the pair. Todo’s movements halted as Chiyo used her technique, pain filling his abdomen.

“I’m surprised you still have your appendix, Todo.” Megumi’s wounds began to heal as she got closer. “I leave campus for a couple hours, and this is what happens?” Chiyo jokingly chastised her underclassman as she approached him, crouching down beside him to better evaluate his injuries.

‘Is this really her technique?’ Megumi stared at the older girl in thinly-veiled wonder, ‘I couldn’t even sense her cursed energy as she was coming.’

Todo began to move as the pain, evidently caused by his appendix, began to lessen. Chiyo held in a groan, she really didn’t want to be in a fight right now, especially one that she’d most likely have to use her technique in. The possibility was slim that she could win a fight against Todo without using her technique at all. Slim, but not zero.

As Chiyo rose to her feet, she pat Megumi on his head with a soft uttering of: “Stay here.” Before Chiyo could need to use her technique any more, Toge and Panda appeared behind him. Two words were all it took for relief to fill Chiyo’s body.

“Don’t move.”

Chiyo tuned out everything after that, only focusing on healing Megumi. She dug through her small backpack, which had an entire pocket filled with medical supplies. Retrieving a small towel, she gently dabbed away the blood that was previously flowing down his face. Now that she had a better look at the wounds, she was relieved. “It’s nothing too serious, you don’t even have to see Shoko-san for these.” What small remnants of his blood were left moved to close over the lacerations, forming a strong scab. She shifted away from him, a soft smile donning her face as her work was done. “Don’t pick at those, and be careful when washing your hair for the next few days.” Megumi was left in a state of awe as Chiyo left alongside her classmates. He could barely hear their chatter even though they weren’t that far away.

Chiyo grumbled as Panda and Toge, but mostly Toge, urged her to go see Shoko. “I barely used it, I don’t need to see Shoko-san!”

“Okaka.”

He was all but pushing her there at this point.

“You should really go see her everytime that you use your technique. Who knows what the potential drawbacks are?”

At Panda’s words, Chiyo bristled slightly as she shared a glance with Toge. “Panda, I’ve been using my technique since I was a kid. If there were any serious drawbacks, I’m pretty sure I would know about them by now.” Her words were confident, and Panda couldn’t argue with her logic. At some point, she gave up on fighting Toge, and kept walking to the infirmary.

[pred1059]

Just A Chance Chapter Four

<- Previous Chapter | Current Chapter | Next Chapter ->

Secret Report: Vexen I

Number XIII? Here? What purpose would this serve? Surely they must know the risk presented to Roxas with Naminé’s memory manipulations?

The question then becomes if this oversight is incidental or deliberate. While the latter has risks they can be mitigated. In the former, the chances of their plan being modified to accommodate increases. 

And with modifications come complications.

No matter. I’m certain that my work can proceed uninterrupted despite Marluxia’s management. Or lack thereof.

Dinner at the organization was hardly special. Nothing flavorful or interesting. But it was still filling enough for Roxas’ taste, and he had certainly worked up an appetite. Everyone was given their rations, magic preserving the meals perfectly until usage. Often in The World That Never Was, members just came and went with their food, presumably to their rooms. 

But in Castle Oblivion the nobodies lingered after grabbing their packages of food. Lexeus, Vexen and Zexion walked up to Marluxia and Larxene. Axel leaned on the wall near the door with a...smile? As Roxas walked over to him, Axel leaned over and whispered, “Free tip, let the bigwigs run their mouths. At the very least it isn’t boring watching them argue.”

Well, Roxas had plenty of experience with that, it was how he spent most of the big team meetings anyway.  Let people talk about what they did, praise others for doing a lot, criticize others for not doing enough. He rarely was called on to talk about his work.

Lexaeus was the first to speak in this scenario, “Riku is inside the castle and has entered the basement.”

Larxene began to giggle as she asked pryingly, “Oh? The big brains of the Organization made a mistake?”

Marluxia responded in a terse tone, “Will this be a problem?”

Vexen scoffed and shook his head. “Unlikely. Though he is moving in the direction of Sora, the rate of Riku’s ascension should not exceed that of the keybearer.”

Zexion nodded. “He also arrived at the bottom level, so even if his pace increases, we have time to respond.”

“Besides,” Vexen began to grin creepily, “his presence raises interesting possibilities for my research.”

“Fat chance we’ll see any of it.” Axel whispered to Roxas. Though the gesture did not escape Vexen’s notice as he shot the duo a quick glare.

But in an instant he resumed smiling at Marluxia, “I believe that I can make use of his data after analysis with my replicas in short order.” Silence hung over the group. Vexen’s confidence faded as Marluxia remained mute, simply staring back at him. Vexen ventured, “This would be done...with your permission of course.” 

Eventually however, Vexen got his reply, “Very well, I will leave him to your group.”

Lexaeus spoke up soon after, “And what of your efforts with Sora?”

Vexen’s smile returned, but with a more biting edge, “Why, yes! I was curious how your plan might proceed given Roxas’...connection.”

Roxas knew the rest of this conversation, how he had put his life on the line in a bid to survive. So he turned and began to step towards the door. A hand on his shoulder stopped him however. Looking up, Roxas saw Axel handing over a small bowl and a spoon. “Hey, if you’re heading out could you bring this to Naminé?” The container had a clear lid, showing the unappetizing gruel inside. 

Was this all they wanted to do for her?

Nevertheless, after a moment of hesitation Roxas nodded. “I’ll drop this off and go eat in my room.” He walked out the door and out into the hallway.

“Rather strange for him to be so quiet, given the weight of his task.”

Only for Zexion’s comment to make him pause just past the door. Listening, Roxas could hear Vexen muse, “He is hardly a normal Nobody. If I had more time I could study him.” Something inside Roxas felt like it turned to ice. Just a pawn for them to use. A curiosity to study. 

“Hey, no dissections of the Organization’s keyblade wielder!” Though fortunately Axel spoke up for him with a hint of anger. At least he mattered to someone. At least Roxas had a friend.

“Don’t be preposterous!” Vexen sputtered “I’m not going to take him apart yet! But If he becomes an obvious liability, then there’s nothing left to do with faulty tools other than take them apart for study.” 

Why?!? Why did Vexen sound so eager for that to happen!? For him to fail?!?

Larxene sighed, “For now he’s doing fine. I mean, this whole training plan was his idea to begin with, so he’s not a total waste of space.”

“Nevertheless there would be merit to studying him in a more passive manner.” Zexion continued calmly, “If I might be so bold as to make a proposal…”

Roxas didn’t bother staying to hear it. The whole talk just made his skin crawl. Being treated like a thing by the rest of the Organization. Was he nothing important till he proved himself with the keyblade? Because he was barely a Nobody?

Well at least Axel believed in him. Still wanted to help him get through this. Looking at the two meals in his hands Roxas began to smile. As he thought of a way to help the other person that wanted to see him again. 

“Naminé, I brought you dinner!” Looking at the size of the ration in Roxas’ hand, Naminé was a little confused. As he set the meal down, confusion became astonishment. A slice of beef, vegetables, and some bread visible under the clear cover sealed with magic.

She opened up the meal, steam rising as the preserved meal was unsealed. Naminé looked at Roxas with disbelief, “All of this is for me? Are you sure?”

He gave an eager nod, “Yeah. I mean, you’re doing a lot for us, helping us to try and get Sora on our side, and making memories for me to train. It’s only fair that you get a meal like the rest of us.”

Naminé’s smile began to waver as she shook her head, “Roxas, none of my meals were as nice as this.”

Nervously, Roxas explained, “W-Well, I can do what I want with my meal. Like give it to someone who I think ought to have it!” But then after a moment he paused and considered his logic, “Wait...doesn’t that mean I’m just taking…?” An embarrassed blush came to his cheeks as he fumbled in his robe to eventually produce a small bowl, stammering, “I...uh...forgot! This is yours too!”

Naminé took the bowl in her hands, and after a moment she let out a small giggle. “Well if this is my meal,” She handed the bowl of oatmeal back over to Roxas. “I can give it to someone who I think ought to have it.”

Sheepishly, Roxas nodded as he accepted the meal. While his stomach regretted the trade after a day of fighting heartless, something else inside him was content. Seeing Naminé enjoy her dinner helped take the edge off his hunger.

Helped him ignore the words he heard from the other members of the Organization.

Helped him forget how he was less then—

“Are you okay?”

Naminè’s words snapped Roxas out of his anxiety. He sighed, “I guess I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

She nibbled at the bread left over from her meal, murmuring, “I’m sorry.” Roxas looked at her in earnest confusion, as Naminé could hardly meet his eyes while she confessed, “It’s my power that’s making you fight for your life like this.”

“What? But it’s not your fault at all,” Naminé looked up to Roxas in surprise as he continued, “It’s Marluxia and Larxene’s fault for not thinking things through.” Roxas muttered as his mind began to settle on the real problem, “Though I don’t know if they didn’t think about me or never cared about me to begin with.”

Naminé’s eyes widened in surprise, “But...you’ve got the keyblade...A power beyond anyone else.”

“But I’m not really a body,” Roxas began to swirl around the remains of his gruel as he ruminated, “My real one’s out there, isn’t it? Sora walking around...so what even am I?”

A moment passed before  Naminé set the empty tray aside and walked over to him. Sitting next to Roxas, she slowly ventured, “I’m...not sure myself. But I do know you’re nice.” She gently placed her hand on his, “And I want to see you more.”

At the echo of his own words, Roxas gave a slight smile back, “Thanks, Naminé. I’ll try to visit you when I can.” Slowly, he held her hand too, feeling the warmth of her touch through his glove.

Roxas walked out of Naminé’s room, empty food trays in hand and a smile on his face.

“You’re spending time with her?”

One that vanished as he heard Axel’s voice behind him. Roxas stiffened slightly as he saw Zexion besides his friend, “Why not? I like talking with her.”

Zexion rubbed his chin in thought, “Is that so? Does she remind you of anyone?”

Furrowing his brow, Roxas shook his head, “Not really.” At the very least, he could be honest about this. 

At the very least, Zexion didn’t seem upset by the answer. He nodded, answering “Not many Nobodies have likes or dislikes without appropriate memories. Something else to watch as we work together I suppose.”

“Work together?”

Axel smirked at Roxas’ surprise, “Yeah, book boy here wants to make sure you’re in good hands.”

Zexion’s eyes narrowed as he turned to Axel, “Keep in mind I outrank you number VIII.”

Sighing, Axel shrugged, “I guess since you’re technically the older Nobody I ought to respect my elders. Well, as long as my pal here gets out alright we’ll be fine.”

Turning back to Roxas, Zexion offered his hand, “I am certain I can guide you to be a productive member of the organization in your training.”

Roxas studied the offered hand before relenting and shaking it, “Alright then. See you tomorrow.” Roxas turned to head to his room. His mind churning with an unnerving thought. A productive member of the Organization and a tool were not mutually exclusive. 

Axel’s words defending him, calling him a friend, were one thing that helped him get to sleep that night. 

The other was Naminé’s reassurance, and the memory of her hand on his.

Naminé looked at the door Roxas had left through with a small smile. Even though he wore the dark robes of every other organization member, he was a light to her. Helping to guide her through her own fear and doubts. And maybe she could believe that she was something more than a phantom.

More than just a reflection of Kairi. 

As she contemplated her other half, her eyes fell on the notebook she was working on. Drawing to visualize new memories for Sora. She turned to the page where the three childhood friends were now four. Looking at the visage of her counterpart, Naminé could not help but remember how Sora had seen Kairi at The End Of The World. The memory burned bright within him of the promise the two shared. But something had nagged at Naminé as she reviewed the memory.

How did Kairi get there in the first place? 

Tracing the linked memory back, all Naminé could really see was a door of light appearing before Kairi. A connection that appeared for the Princess of Heart to whisk her elsewhere. One that seemed to resonate…

...the more she thought of Sora?

Naminé began to realize that the question of interference in the Organization’s plans had ceased to become “if” and had mutated into “when”.

Her only wish right now was that Roxas would make it out alright. If freedom was too much to ask for, she could at least hope for that

[corrie-zodori]

Spamton brainrot reminiscing time because why tf not By all accounts of logic, Spamton should not have appealed to me in the slightest but idk, I think my highkey "monster/weird character appreciator" side of me became endeared to his bizarreness after a while and on top of him being tragic on top of everything else, I really attached to him!

He's just a sad lil dude and the backstory he's got is REAL good, despite being a "secret boss" with a bit more limited interaction than a main char. Like, he makes you want to befriend him and give him that good end he was cheated out of. Even if he is a shady, morally grey salesman, I think it was really cool for him to turn around and show some kind of regret for his actions and even turn into your ally. I hope we get to see him again in the future alongside the other "secret bosses"! Like I deadass went from "Holy shit you're terrifying/uncanny valley and idk how to feel about that" to absolutely head over heels endeared to him within like 4 days of beating the game. I did NOT anticipate liking him as much as I did, let alone becoming attached so strongly to him. Not 100% sure what it is! But I just let it happen LMAO I love seeing people's takes on him sm. he is just a glitchy dumpster manlet. And Neo? Cool af, definitely appeals to my "manic monster chars" and bonus points for being an unhinged robot, I've got a soft spot for these things in general and I think that's hella cool. He's fun as hell to draw, he's got the best music in the game, 10/10 Toby. Dunno how tf you did it but I have to wonder if he anticipated Spamton being as widely highly regarded as he is. Spamton appreciation ramble over/

[abimess]

Split City, Divided Heart - Chapter 5

Mob!Wanda Maximoff x Mob!Reader

Masterlist | Get notified of my next stories

Summary: In the 1950s, the two most famous mobs in New York lived in a truce, in peace. But false peace is like a bomb, and this one is about to explode.

Warnings: +16. Violence; guns; bladed weapons; blood; death; torture; kidnapping; mentions of sex (no description); drugs; mob/mafia

Chapter Summary: You are given a task you know you won't be able to fulfill. And while the police try to follow the mafias' trails, Wanda looks for you, but it may already be too late. 

Word count: 4.837 || Pronouns: she/her

It's back! 🥳 it's been a while but I hope it's worth the wait. Enjoy!

You do NOT have permission to repost or translate my work on any platforms (even with credit)

Series Masterlist | Previews Part

───── ⋅ ✮ ⋅ ─────

"Nothing personal, it’s just business" – Otto Berman

In the dim light of the office, surrounded by piles and more piles of paper, it's almost possible to hear the gears of Steve Rogers' brain working.

The policeman looks through the files eagerly, looking for an explanation for the mess he knows in his heart that is happening somewhere in this city.

Year after year working at that police station, the man has never felt like this. So close to unraveling the dirt of New York City's underworld. But there are still missing details, unanswered questions. He needed to figure them out if he was to get somewhere. 

Then the office door opens suddenly and the blond's line of thought is lost as he is awakened from his musings and stares at the door in a jolt.

"Sorry for the disturbance, Captain," Wilson says, entering the office next, and Steve frowns when he sees his friend's breathless state, “we found something.”

Those three words were more than enough for Rogers to get up, fastly following Sam through the precinct’s corridors. They end up in the forensics room, and spend the next few minutes talking to the ballistics team about their findings. 

"We've finished analyzing the bullets used in the shooting at the shed," Monica Rambeau informs them, a serious expression on her face despite her eyes brightening at the discovery, "many of them are from Stark Industries."

"I won't even feign surprise." Wilson says as he stood next to the Captain, his arms crossed in front of his chest. Steve glances briefly at him before returning his gaze to Rambeau.

"That's not all," the policewoman says and, noticing the inquiring looks from both men, she continues, "the bullets match the description of the supposed stolen lots." The woman informs and Steve clenches his jaw, flashes of the night of the interrogation running through the blond man's mind.

While investigating Stark under the suspicion of Hammer's murder, the businessman had shown strange behavior, to say the least. 

And as if that wasn't enough, the police discovered that some of Stark's products had disappeared from his warehouse, heavy weapons and ammunition. When confronted about the situation, Stark told an unconvincing story about having no idea what had happened, saying that the lots could've been stolen or lost during transport. 

Now, however, the policeman knew very well what had happened to them. 

"So Stark hired the mobsters to murder his rival and gave them his products as payment." Wilson suggests, speaking out loud what was going on in the blond's mind. When Steve looks at Wilson, the man is already looking at him.

"Let's go get him."

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

Wanda leaves her father's office feeling sick. 

As she walks through the hideout's corridors, which seem to spin wildly, the redhead wonders how. How did her father find out about you? How, when she was so cautious not to let anyone know. It doesn't make any sense. How...

"Hey, Wanda." A voice calls out to her, and she only recognizes it belongs to Raven when she turns around and comes face to face with the woman standing next to her. "Going out to meet your filthy Avenger?"

The words come out with debauchery from the blonde's mouth, a cynical smile on her lips. Suddenly, as if pieces of a puzzle fell into place in Wanda's mind, she understands. Feeling her blood boil with rage, the redhead walks over to the woman and doesn't hesitate to throw a fierce punch to Raven's face. 

The blonde gasps in surprise, bringing her hand to her face as she staggers back a few steps with the pain. When Raven removes her hand from the damaged spot, revealing a shocked expression and bloody nose, Wanda lets out a small victorious smirk, which soon fades away with the anger. 

"Watch your mouth, sneaky bitch." Wanda warns through gritted teeth, and the blonde seems too astonished to reply. 

Finally noticing the commotion of the few Guardians around, who turned their curious and confused gazes to the scene, Wanda storms away from the common room, heading towards the exit of the hideout. 

She needs to get out of there. She needs to talk to you.

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

It's early in the morning, and you're chatting away with Barnes and Wilson when you hear someone calling your name. When you turn your face in the direction of the sound, you see Carol Danvers. 

"May I have a word with you?" she asks politely and you nod, getting up immediately. The Captain never comes to call someone directly unless it's serious, and the fact that you walk to her office in silence only confirms how serious the situation is.

"I have a job for you." She says as soon as you reach the room, Carol closing the door as you throw yourself into the armchair. "Anything you need, Cap."

"It's about Lehnsherr." She informs you as she sits in the armchair opposite yours across the table, and you widen your eyes slightly for her to continue. "I figured out a way to get back at him." She says with a small smile, and you settle back in your chair, interested. "I need you to take out his daughter."

"I didn't know Lehnsherr had a kid." You speak, with frowning eyebrows, and the blonde nods. "Kids, actually." The Captain corrects, and you blink a few times in surprise. "Twins he met when they were little. The children had no family so he kinda adopted them."

"How nice of him." You mock drily, "He's not gonna like that at all." You add with a smirk, which Carol promptly reciprocates. "I'm counting on it." She replies, and you giggle. "Does the target have a name? A picture I can use?"

The woman hums in agreement, and you watch as she pulls a small photograph out of one of her drawers and then hands it to you. You lean forward curiously, but as soon as you lay your eyes on the picture, your body freezes. 

"Wanda Maximoff." Carol gives the information, not that you needed her to. Your heart beats rapidly at the image of the woman you fell in love with so quickly and so hopelessly staring back at you on that small piece of paper. 

"Are you okay, kid?" The blonde's voice wakes you from your thoughts and you raise your eyes to her. You don't know if she said anything before, but she sounds concerned and so you shake your head, trying to push your panic away, unsuccessfully.

"Yeah." You answer, your voice failing a little even though you try to prevent it, and you clear your throat afterwards. "I'm just a little sleepy." You lie dismissively, and the blonde seems to believe you, as she just nods afterwards.  

You stare at the photo for a few more seconds, as if looking at it long enough would make the face printed there change. But it doesn't, so you lift your gaze again, holding back a sigh. "When do you need it done?"

"The sooner the better." She answers simply and you nod, swallowing dryly, your only desire being to run away from there as quickly as you possibly can. You remain frozen in your position instead. "Dismissed."

It's only after the blonde's statement that you stand up, casting one last simple smile at her before turning to the door. As you walk out of the office, your mind spins, wondering what the hell you are going to do.

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

You don't go see Wanda after your conversation with Carol. 

In fact, you stay at the hideout most of the time, avoiding interaction with everyone. And the few times you do go out, you go to places you know no one will find you.

Like right now, for example, you are sitting on the roof of an abandoned building, looking at the scenery in the distance, your head spinning frantically with thoughts. But then a voice wakes you up from your pondering.

"First you start disappearing during the night, now you disappear during the day? I'm starting to think you're going to abandon us." Nat says with an amused smile as she approaches you, sitting down next to you afterwards, and you let out a dry disagreeing chuckle, but says nothing.

The two of you sit in silence for a while, the redhead staring at the horizon as you do. But soon curiosity gets the better of you and you turn to face her. "How did you know I was here?" You ask and she shrugs.

"I didn't. But I remembered you brought me here a few times when we were teenagers, so I decided to give it a shot." She comments and you nod, smiling nostalgically as you recall the afternoons when you would hang out here together with Clint, Bucky, and Sue, drinking and chatting away. Practically half of you are gone now.

"Why did you come?" You ask after a short moment of silence, pushing the memories away, and Nat looks at you, shrugging once again as a small smile frames her lips. "I figured you were in need of a shoulder to lean on."

"What if I wanted to be alone?" You retort and she smiles amusedly this time. "I imagined that too, but considering how you never shut up I thought it was unlikely." She teases and you let out a husky chuckle, looking at the skyline once more. You notice out of the corner of your eye the redhead watching you, however. 

"What happened?" She asks eventually and you sigh heavily before answering. "I have a huge problem." You say simply, not knowing how to put into words all the thoughts bubbling in your mind. "It's about a girl."

"For God's sake, Y/n, can't you keep your pants up?!" She says, slightly annoyed, and you look at her with a grimace. "It's not like that!" You defend yourself, sounding offended. "I fell in love, okay? I fell in love hard." 

At your statement, Nat blinks a few times in surprise and you look away. It's not like you to do this kind of thing, and she knows it too. You huff. "I love her to death and now I have to kill her."

The words make your friend widen her eyes in shock, and when you finally look at her and see her countenance shaped with concern and curiosity, you sigh.. "Carol assigned me to." You explain, but noting Natasha's still obliviousness, you add. "She's a Guardian."

"She's a Guardian?!" She repeats, her voice high in a mixture of irritation and shock, and you nod. "More precisely, Lehnsherr's daughter." You say, further aggravating the redhead's feelings. "Lehnsherr's daughter?!"

"Are you gonna repeat everything I say?" you joke, and Nat shoots you a stern glare. "I'm gonna punch you in the face, that's what." She replies irritated, and you just laugh through your nose half-heartedly before looking at the landscape again. 

After a moment of silence, the woman beside you scoff. "The princess of the Guardians, have you lost your mind?" She lets out in a grumble, and you nod slowly as you say, "Apparently."

After that you share a long silence, both of you watching the scenery into the distance as thoughts roam in your minds. But eventually, Natasha breaks it. "What are you going to do?"

You don't answer for a while, that being the question that hammered the most in your mind, the question for which you had no answer. "I don't know." You admit with a sigh and, still staring straight ahead, you don't notice the small sympathetic smile the redhead casts at you. "I'm not going to kill her, that much I know... The problem is what's coming with that."

"Well, whatever it is, I know you'll do the right thing." Nat's words take you by surprise and you look at her, your eyebrows frowning in confusion. But all you get back is a loving and understanding smile, the support you have always received in all the years of friendship with the redhead, and then you smile gratefully. 

"How can you know?" you ask softly, apprehension enlacing your tone, and Natasha shrugs dismissively. "Because it's who you are. You do a lot of shit, but you always do the right thing in the end." She says playfully, and you hiss. 

"Thanks, I guess." You respond with a grimace and Nat chuckles, making you smile. A few minutes later you notice out of the corner of your eye the redhead getting up. When you look at her, she extends her hand to you.

"Come on, now, you look like you could use a drink."

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

After spending the entire night getting drunk with Nat, you imagine you'll fall asleep as soon as you lie in bed, but you don't. The alcohol, surprisingly, helps you put your thoughts together, and the next morning you walk determinedly to the Captain's office. 

"Hey, Carol," you say, your head popping through the gap in the door, and you wait for the blonde to look at you before you ask, "can I talk to you?" 

"Of course, Y/n, come in." The blonde assures as she lays the papers that were in her hands on the table, moving her hand invitingly and a warm smile on her lips. 

As soon as you close the door behind you, the room becomes more constricted, the Captain's figure more imposing, making you want to cringe. You try to stand your ground, though. 

"What is it, kid?" The blonde asks, noticing your silence, and you clear your throat before asking. "It's about the job." You answer and the Captain raises her eyebrows, inviting you to go on. "I can't do it."

Carol stares at you in silence, and you get ready to make the speech you prepared in your sleepless night. But then the blonde nods, surprising you. 

"I figured as much." She says calmly and you frown, confused, which makes a small smile appear on Carol's lips. "Have a seat." She instructs, pointing to the armchair in front of her desk, and you do so quietly. "I know about your affair with Lehnsherr's daughter." She lets you know, making you gulp. "How did you-"

"You're like a child to me, Y/n, I've noticed your behavior changing." She says in a not exactly reproachful tone, but you let out a brief embarrassed smile anyway. "After that I decided to keep an eye on you," she explains, but noticing your displeased expression, she adds, "don't look at me like that, I was worried about you."

You look away, not knowing what to say or do, and not seeing Carol watching you intently. When she speaks again, you look back at her. "I understand, she's charming. But I expected you to be more clever." She says with eyebrows raised slightly in disapproval and you huff. "I didn't know she was Lehnsherr's daughter when I met her. It's all just so..."

"Complicated?" She completes and you nod. "You have no idea." You let out in a sigh. "Yes, I do." Carol says and you cast her a questioning look. "What do you mean?" You ask, and the blonde casts you a small smile. "I've been in your shoes, kid."

"What, you fell in love with a Guardian?" you ask with bitter humor and she let out a brief laugh. "Worse." The blonde answers, and you frown in surprise. "A few years ago I met someone. The perfect woman, if you ask me." She tells you with a nostalgic tone of voice, and you watch as she rummages through the last drawer of her desk. 

"Her name is Maria." She says, handing you an old photograph and you let out a short smile at the two smiling women in the picture: a cheerful Carol Danvers with the signs of youth quite evident and a dark-haired woman standing next to her, hugging her by the shoulder. But when you recognize who the other woman is, you frown.  

"The Police Chief?" You ask in disbelief, raising your eyes to the Captain, who smiles sadly as she nods on confirmation. "She was the leader of Shield at the time. I didn't know, of course. She didn't know about me either."

The information has you widening your eyes in astonishment. Shield is New York City's specialized police squad tasked with investigating and taking down local mafias. The team has the best-prepared police officers in the area and had already taken down several smaller mafias over the years, but they never managed to come close to doing the same with the Avengers or the Guardians. 

"What happened then?" You ask in a fearful voice, and Carol ponders for a while before answering. "I found out who she was, before she found out who I am. And then... I walked away." She answers with a hint of sadness in her voice, and you nod slowly. 

"She must have figured it out later, Maria is a smart woman." The captain adds with a small smile and a nostalgic tone. You wonder if Carol still loves the other woman, but you think it best not to ask about it. 

"The thing is," she continues the conversation, blinking out of her memories, "I couldn't risk the Avengers. My family comes first." The tone she uses is charged with meaning, and has you letting out a long sigh. "Are you asking me to let Wanda go?"

"No. That is entirely your decision." She says, and you return your gaze to her. "I'm asking you to think about your priorities. And where your loyalty lies." The words are kind, but loaded with an ultimatum that you knew would come but were not ready to receive. 

"You don't need to answer now, take your time to think." The woman says, noticing your silence, and you nod slowly. "But I know you will make the right choice." The additional sentence is accompanied by a small smile, compelling you to make the decision you know you should make. 

But you're not able to make it right now, so you just return the smile minimally as you stand up. Then, with your head heavy with doubt, you leave the room.

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

That night you go to Wanda's apartment, your head boiling with thoughts that you really wish you didn't have. God, why life has to be so hard?

Arriving in front of the building, you smile when you see the apartment light on. But the smile soon fades away with the thought that she must be furious with you. Not that you could blame her. These last few days you have simply disappeared. No news, no sign. 

And your suspicions are confirmed when you knock on the door and are greeted by a redhead with hardened expressions and tears in her eyes. You feel your heart ache, the weight of it all becoming more real now that you see her standing in front of you. 

Before you can say anything, Wanda turns her back on you and walks into the apartment, leaving the door open for you to follow her, and you do. 

You stop in the middle of the living room, your eyes locked on her as your heart beats heavily inside your chest, on the verge of breaking. When the redhead turns to you and you see tears streaming down her face, you can almost hear your heart shatter. "Wanda, I-"

Your sentence is cut off by heavy, unexpected arms wrapping themselves around you and suddenly the anguish turns to despair. 

Out of the corner of your eye you see a blonde man you don't know, but who is clearly taller and stronger than you. This doesn't stop you from fighting back, however, trying to free yourself from the stranger's grip. 

But all your attempts are in vain when the man holds you firmly with one arm, bringing the other hand up to your face, obstructing your breathing with a piece of cloth.

The strong, nauseating smell invades your senses immediately, making your nostrils burn and your head spin. You try to gather all your strength to free yourself from the man's grip, but it's becoming increasingly difficult to stay awake, no matter how hard you fight the feeling. 

In a mixture of desperation and confusion, your eyes search for Wanda's. Looking for an answer, looking for help. But all you get is the image of the redhead looking away, increasingly blurred. 

Until, suddenly, darkness.

⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅ ─ ⋅

Your body awakens slowly, and before you even open your eyes an intense nausea takes over you, so violent that it makes you throw up immediately, your insides writhing in agony. 

"That's not very classy, is it?" A sarcastic voice makes itself heard, but you are too dizzy to even attempt to recognize it. With the nausea now relieved, an excruciating ache takes over your entire body, your right eye barely opening. It's not hard to deduce that you've been beaten up while you were blacked out.

With great effort you look up and are confronted by Lehnsherr a few feet away, an amused expression on his face at seeing your condition. The man smiles a smug smile that makes your blood boil, giving you the urge to punch him in the face. But any movement you try to make is promptly prevented by the ropes that bind you tightly. 

"Finally reaping the fruits of a plan so meticulously plotted." The man says, leaning in front of you and you frown, your confused eyes fixed on his expectant ones. When Erik notices your confusion, he smirks. "What? Nothing? How do you think you got here, Y/n?" He asks, but you remain silent, which makes the man smile even more. "It's not a conversation if you don't answer me, child."

"Fuck off." You retort through gritted teeth and the man grimaces, shrugging before turning away from you. As he starts pacing back and forth in the cell, you look down. "Well, if you're not in the mood to talk, I'd like to tell you a story. A story you'll like, actually, it's the story of how you ended up here." 

With that you look up and, noticing your movement, Erik smiles victoriously. "I've caught your interest, haven't I?" He comments in a teasing tone and you clench your jaw. The man then snaps his fingers, as if he has just remembered something.

"Oh but every story needs a protagonist! Wanda, dear, please come closer, don't be shy." Lehnsherr instructs and your heart aches at the sight of Wanda entering the cell, the same man who made you unconscious entering beside her. Instinctively, you move in the chair, trying to reach her, but your movements are once again restricted by the ropes. When you realize that the redhead is avoiding your gaze, you look away as well. 

"Well, it all started a few months ago when you decided to have fun with a certain redhead. But don't get me wrong please, I value my daughter's freedom quite highly. Her man, on the other hand..." Erik says, pointing to the two standing at the entrance of the cell, and your gaze immediately returns to Wanda.

The redhead has her arms crossed, looking everywhere but at you. Beside her, the blond man wraps his arm around Wanda's waist, his hand too low on her hip for your liking, and Wanda doesn't make the slightest effort to get it off of her. Your blood boils immediately, a mixture of anger and sadness coursing through your veins, and Erik notices your feelings with a small winning smile on his face. 

"Where was I? Oh sure, you banging my daughter." He continues casually and you clench your jaw. He's doing all this to piss you off, you knew it. But still he was succeeding, which only makes you even more angry. 

"It was supposed to be a casual thing, I imagine, a one night stand. But then the night of the Stark negotiation came and with it the perfect opportunity." The man tells you with a smile on his face, and you keep your gaze fixed on his, your hardened expression as impassive as you can manage.  

"As soon as we got home, Wanda told me about you, and the idea came to me like a light bulb going on in a dark room." Lehnsherr gestures dramatically, and you resist the urge to roll your eyes. "Attracting you wouldn't be a difficult task, after all you were clearly already under her spell." 

The whole situation, added to the pain in your body, made your head spin, the nausea again returning to your stomach, but you resist the urge to vomit. "Wanda didn't want to at first, of course. What was that thing you said, dear? That you wouldn't waste your time with a filthy Avenger?" 

The two men in the room chuckle at the comment, nodding their heads in agreement. You allow yourself to look at Wanda briefly. The woman seems determined not to look at you at any cost. You wonder if she has any regrets for the situation she has put you in, for the lies she has told so beautifully and that you have believed so easily. If she does, she doesn't show it. 

"But then duty to her family spoke louder and she accepted it." Erik speaks again, and you are finally awakened from your thoughts, remembering that he was there in the first place. "Always doing what's best for the people you love, aren't you, sweetheart?" he says with a smile, his thumb gently running along the apple of Wanda's cheek, who nods then. 

"Yes, Papa." She says, the thick accent that had always made your hair stand on end now making your stomach drop, the weight of the truth forcing you to lower your head, your eyes fixed on the dirty floor of the cell. You see out of the corner of your eye Lehnsherr walking towards you.

"Well, I don't need to tell you what happened next." He says provocatively, and you clench your jaw tighter, your teeth about to crack. You feel the man put his hand on your chin, lifting your face to look at him, and your skin burns with disgust under his touch. 

"There, you now know how you got here." He tells you with an amused smile. You keep your eyes fixed on his defiantly, but say nothing. "Now, could you explain why you're here?"

In response, you spit in his face, who takes a few steps back in surprise, a grunt of disgust escaping his lips as he wipes his face with the sleeve of his suit, and you smile proudly. 

Then Lehnsherr waves his hand to the blond man, who nods before walking over to you. Without a second thought, the man lands a clean punch to your face, the force of the impact tremendous to the point of making the chair tip over onto its side, causing you to fall helplessly to the floor. 

Before you can even assimilate the pain in your body and the metallic taste of blood in your mouth, rough hands lift you up again, putting you in the position you were in a few moments ago. 

"I'm gonna kill you." You say in a whisper, blood dripping from your mouth as you do so. "I'm sorry, what did you say?" Erik asks next, and you don't know if it's a genuine question or if he's just teasing you. But you spit out the excessive blood in your mouth and look at him with hate-filled eyes.

"I'm going to get out of here, and I'm going to kill you." You threaten firmly, meaning your every word, and Erik approaches you slowly. When his face is just inches from yours, you notice a small smirk at the corner of his lips.

"Good luck with that." Erik says, and in the next second he is stabbing a pocket knife against your abdomen. The blade pierces your flesh sharply, tearing an agonizing grunt of pain from you. Just as quickly as he shoved the weapon into you, he withdraws it, and you feel your shirt immediately soak through. 

"Take care of her injuries," you hear the man say as he walks away, but you are too weak to look, "she has no use if she's dead." After that you hear footsteps becoming more distant as the heavy beats of your heart become stronger in your ears.

And like that you are left alone in that dark and dirty cell. Aching body, aching heart, a suffocating silence around you and no possibility of escape.

───── ⋅ ✮ ⋅ ─────

And that's it for today! It's so fun to bring this story back, I really like it. Feel free to share your thoughts and expectations for what's happening next!

Chapter 6

[bratdesire]

Your Dad, My Daddy

Pairing: Ukai Keishin x Fem!Reader

Warnings: 18+ smut, age gap, older man/younger woman, barely legal, squirting, rough sex, daddy kink, alcohol mention, questionable ethics, d/s dynamics, overstimulation, degrading language, touch of subspace, unprotected sex, breeding kink, slight dubcon if you squint but it’s all consensual, Ukai’s dick is pierced, exhibitionism(?)

Genre: Smut, just so much smut

Word count: 9.4k

Author’s note: Here is my contribution to the new HQHQ collab!! You can find the masterlist right here! Big big thank you to @sempiternal-amour and @inaflashimagine​ for beta-ing this monster fic, ilysm <3 This is so incredibly self-indulgent, I even inserted my nickname ~for spice~. Anyways, enjoy my incoherent screaming uwu

Summary: When you go over to your friend’s house for a study session you don’t anticipate meeting her very attractive father, and you surely don’t anticipate the very same man fucking you over their couch.

“Hey, I apologize in advance for anything weird my dad says or does. You know how dads are,” Hitomi explains as she pulls into the driveway of her house. 

It’s small but nice and well-manicured, situated in the cul de sac of a middle-class suburb.

“Dad, we’re here,” she shouts up the stairs, setting her keys on the small table next to the front door. Hitomi’s gaze drifts to the tall, dark haired man sitting at the kitchen table and your own gaze soon follows. “Oh, there you are.”

She quickly pecks the man on his cheek before walking over to the shiny silver fridge, pulling out a couple bottles of water. “Dad, this is Bunny, Bunny this is Dad,” she gestures between the two of you. 

When her father glances up from his phone to give you a nod of acknowledgement, you’re taken aback by how handsome he is. 

You can tell from the slight wrinkles around his lips and the crinkles by his eyes that he’s definitely a much older man, but other than that he’s flawless. The angle of his jaw is sharp but soft, lower face darkened by his five o’clock shadow. His chocolate brown eyes are complemented by plump, pink lips that would look even better swollen and shiny with saliva. Dark, shiny locks are gathered into a low ponytail and you wonder how they would feel fisted in your fingers. He’s gorgeous in a rugged, mature way that boys your age aren’t and could never hope to be. 

Hitomi never told you her dad was hot but then again, why would she? 

“Mr. Ukai, it’s nice to meet you,” you greet him.

He waves his hand in the air dismissively, “Ah, you can just call me Keishin. No need to be so formal.”

Hitomi mutters a frustrated “shit” under her breath and it takes you a few moments to tear your eyes away from the man in front of you. 

“I left my textbook in the car, I have to go grab it,” she sighs then turns to her dad. “You, don’t scare off my friend, please.” 

Keishin puts a hand on his heart, a falsely serious expression on his face. “I won’t, scout’s honor.”

She just rolls her eyes, exiting the kitchen the same way you entered. The front door slams shut, leaving you alone with your friend’s very hot dad.

Keishin looks up at you then quickly looks away, unsure how to interact with his daughter’s friends. “So is, uh, Bunny your real name?” he asks, nervously rubbing the back of his head.

Leaning against the table he’s seated at, you fold your arms across your chest, fully aware of how low cut your top is. You don’t miss the way his eyes briefly flicker down to your cleavage then back up to your face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” you challenge, raising an eyebrow at him.

“I… I’m just trying to make conversation,” he laughs nervously.

“Hm, well, the short answer is no. You’ll have to get to know me a bit better before I give you the long answer.” 

He snorts, pushing his chair back and rising to his full height. “What gave you the confidence to speak like this to your elders?”

Taking a step towards him, you twirl a piece of hair around your finger and shyly peer up at him through your lashes. “I don’t know, but maybe you can teach me how to behave.”

A light blush colors his cheeks and his eyes widen with surprise. “I-I don’t know what you’re implying, but it’s not... appropriate,” he stutters, taking a step backwards to try to put some distance between you.

You sidle up to him, reaching out a hand to caress his well-muscled arm. When he makes no move to stop your petting, you bite your lip and get on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear. “Who said we had to be appropriate?” 

His mouth is slightly agape, lips moving every so often, as if he wants to say something but doesn’t. “I—” he starts.

The sound of the front door slamming open makes you both jump apart, trying to appear as casual as possible. 

“I got it! We can go study now,” Hitomi proclaims, waving the book around in her hands. She glances at you, then at her father and notices the way you’re completely turned away from each other. “Oh my God, Dad, what did you do?” she groans.

He holds up both hands in surrender, shaking his head emphatically. “I didn’t do anything! Why do you always think I did something?”

Your friend strides over to lightly punch his shoulder, a disapproving but loving expression on her face. “Because you’re weird and lame. Besides, between you and Bunny, I’m always going to assume that you’re the guilty party.”

You find yourself chuckling at their banter, touched by how close they are. It’s evident that Hitomi and Keishin care a lot about each other, regardless of how much they tease each other and guilt twists in your gut when you remind yourself that you were flirting with him. She likely wouldn’t forgive you for trying to sleep with her dad and it would cause a great deal of damage to their relationship, possibly beyond repair if she knew he was into girls her age. To make matters worse, you’re two years her junior. What man would sleep with a girl younger than his daughter?

But your morals are tossed right out the window when you take in the sight of Keishin’s radiant smile—all straight, white teeth and eyes that shine like pools of dark honey. It’s in that moment that you decide you’re going to seduce that man if it’s the last thing you do.

Sorry, Hitomi. Kind of.

---

“Okay, so L-Tyrosine is one of the twenty amino acids used by the body to synthesize proteins. It is also an aromatic amino acid derived from phenylalanine by hydroxylation in the para position—oof!” Hitomi’s droning is cut off by the pillow you send hurtling towards her head.

You sit up on her bed, squealing obnoxiously as you stretch. “Hitomi, I love you, but please shut up. My brain is melting. We’ve been at this for three hours now, can we take a break?”

She closes the textbook in her lap and pushes it to the edge of her desk. “Fine, fine. We can take a twenty minute break, but we have to go right back to studying because finals are this week and I cannot afford to fail,” your friend warns, despite how she whips out her phone at lightning speed.

Picking at a stray thread on the comforter, you gently try to get her attention, “Hey, Tomi?”

“Hm?” she responds, barely glancing up from the video she’s watching.

You’re not sure how to broach the subject, but you’ve never been one to beat around the bush so you just come right out and say it. “Has anyone told you your dad’s kinda hot?”

That makes her stop, her head jerking up from her phone at lightning speed. “What!? That old geezer?” She sounds dumbfounded, incredulous at the prospect that someone would be interested in her father.

“Yeah girl, he’s a total DILF,” you confess, making a little fanning motion with your hand like you’re burning up inside just thinking about him, and it’s not that far from the truth.

Hitomi makes no effort to hide her feelings, disgust clearly evident in her delicate features. “Ew! You have to be joking. Please tell me you’re joking.”

“I’m not joking! He’s really sexy,” you muse dreamily.

She claps both hands over her ears, yelling at the top of her lungs to drown you out. “I never want to hear you say that my old man is ‘sexy’ ever again!”

You childishly stick your tongue out at her. “Hey! I’m just speaking the truth. You have to have had friends say the same thing.”

Removing her hands from her ears, she brings one up to stroke her chin, seemingly deep in thought. “Now that I think about it, back in high school my friends were a lot more enthusiastic about coming over once they met my father.”

You feel vindicated by her personal testimony, even if she thinks you’re gross. “See? I’m not the only one who finds your dad ridiculously attractive.”

Hitomi gags dramatically as if she’s going to puke and judging by the look on her face, she just might. “Please, no more, I’m begging you.” 

“Fine, fine I’ll stop, but don’t act surprised when I become your new stepmom,” you tease, wiggling your eyebrows at her.

“You’re younger than me, don’t even joke about that,” she shudders in horror. “Okay, with that we need to get back to studying amino acids and proteins.”

“Whatever you say, future stepdaughter.” You muster your best motherly voice, sickeningly sweet and a touch passive aggressive.

This time, it’s Hitomi’s turn to throw a pillow at you.

---

Since the day you met Keishin, you haven’t been able to get him off your mind. Even when you’re in class trying to learn about the sodium-potassium pump, you find your thoughts drifting to his hands, his lips, him. He’s simply become too distracting to ignore.

More times than you care to admit, you’ve fucked yourself with your fingers to thoughts of how his fingers would feel pumping inside you. You fantasize about how his hand would feel around your neck, squeezing with just enough pressure to make your vision hazy. His name is always on the tip of your tongue when you orgasm and when you finally let yourself moan out ‘Keishin,’ you know enough is enough. A man his age has to know exactly how to make a woman scream and writhe in pleasure, but you need to experience it for yourself or you’ll die trying.

You’re not oblivious to the way he looks at you with hunger and longing in his eyes, you know he wants you too and you’re not above using dirty tricks to show him just how much you want him. 

If he’s too proud, too noble to give in to his urges, you’ll just have to break him. His resolve may be strong, but yours is stronger.

Your efforts begin innocently enough, gently probing him for more information about himself so you can get to know him better.

“I’ve noticed you don’t wear a ring. Is there a Mrs. Ukai in the picture?” you ask innocently.

Keishin clears his throat a bit too loudly, refusing to meet your questioning gaze. “Nah. It’s just me and Tomi, always has been.”

“Any… future Mrs. Ukai in the picture?”

The corners of his lips twitch slightly, the barest of smiles tugging at his handsome features. “Can’t say there is. Between the store and coaching volleyball, I don’t really have the time to date.”

You nod and make a noise of acknowledgement, relieved by the confirmation that he is in fact very, very single. You’re a lot of things, but you’re not a homewrecker.

On another occasion, you’re seated on their plush leather couch and Keishin’s in the well-worn La-Z-Boy recliner to your left. You’re watching some Adam Sandler movie on Netflix, but it’s paused while Hitomi is in the bathroom.

You take your alone time together as an opportunity to question him more, toeing the line of what would be considered proper. “So, Keishin, how old are you? I know Tomi’s twenty-one so you must be…” you trail off, hoping he’ll humor you.

He takes a swig of the beer in his hand and your eyes instinctively flicker down to watch the way his Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Old.”

You roll your eyes and prop your chin up on your hand, readjusting your position on the couch so you’re leaning closer to him. “Obviously, but just how old?”

“Why do you want to know so badly?” he asks, head tilted and a well-groomed eyebrow lifted questioningly.

“I was just wondering if you’re older than my dad,” you tease. 

His shoulders shake slightly as he chuckles, amusement dancing in his eyes. “I’m forty-four. Do I have him beat?”

“He’s forty-two, so just barely.” Your steady, unwavering eyes lock onto his own, which are glassy and unfocused from the alcohol. When he brings the bottle to his lips once more, you nonchalantly add, “Maybe I should call you Daddy instead.”

Keishin coughs and sputters in surprise, causing him to choke on his beverage and a spray of sticky beer splatters across your face. 

Apologies tumble out of his mouth as soon as he realizes that your cheeks and hair are dripping with the craft IPA he was drinking. “I-I’m so sorry! I’ll get you a towel,” he blurts, shooting up from his chair. 

In his panic and embarrassment, he rushes toward the linen closet and you can’t help the giggles that escape your mouth at how uncoordinated he is, now several drinks in. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s not that big of a deal,” you reassure him, wiping your face with the back of your hand for emphasis.

He returns from the rummaging around the hall closet, a dark blue towel in his hand, which he offers to you with a nod of his head.

No matter your protests and assurances that you’re fine, Keishin is even more insistent in offering you the towel to clean yourself up. When you refuse to take the towel from him, he kneels down next to you and leans in to dab at the foamy liquid that has soaked into your hair. 

Your breath hitches in your throat when you feel his fingers on your jaw and you almost squeak at his close proximity. He hasn’t let you near him since your first encounter and now he’s right in front of you, so close that his breath curls around your cheeks, smelling of malted hops and the slightest hint of peppermint. You can map out the slight freckles on the bridge of his nose and each long, curled eyelash that brushes his cheeks each time he blinks.

He’s truly a beautiful man, all sharp angles and rough stubble and you can feel your cheeks warm when you realize that he’s right there. If you leaned forward just a little bit more, your noses would brush against each other. 

A deep, rumbling voice interrupts your daydreaming. “Kid, are you even listening to me?”

You blink a couple times, coming to the realization that he’s been trying to talk to you for the last few minutes, but you were too busy admiring his beauty.

Keishin shakes his head as he leans back on his heels, using one hand to rub his face wearily. “As I was saying, you can’t just… say things like that. I know young girls sometimes have fantasies about older men like me, but I’m telling you now that it’ll only end badly,” he sighs. “I’m not a righteous man, I have my vices. God, do I have lots of them, and I don’t need another one.”

He mumbles the last sentence, barely loud enough for you to hear, despite how close you are.

Another one? Is he admitting that the attraction is mutual? You have to know, you just have to. Your body practically aches from how badly you want him.

“Keishin, I—” you start, reaching out to touch his arm, but he stands abruptly and quickly turns to shuffle away from the couch.

“This just isn’t a good idea, kid. Just forget about me, alright?” he says, his back to you. A tinge of regret and hesitation seeps into his words, as if he wants to take back everything he’s said.

After the beer incident, the man is even less receptive than he was before, making every effort to avoid being alone with you.

Even still, you’re not discouraged because he never outright rejected you. If he had, you would’ve stopped your pursuit weeks ago, but he only seems to be trying to maintain his composure as a righteous man.

Righteous men are wolves in sheep’s clothing, always putting on a facade so they can claim plausible deniability when they’re caught with their pants around their ankles. But no matter how honorable or virtuous a man tries to be, none of them can resist a wet, willing pussy laid out in front of them and Keishin is no exception.

That’s why you’ve shown up to their house the last few weeks in skirts far too short to be considered decent, flashing little peeks of your underwear each time you move too much or bend over too far. Each time you bend over to grab a pencil or a piece of paper off the floor, Keishin is always conveniently positioned behind you so he gets an eyeful of your pretty lace panties and the little dark spot where your wetness has soaked through the fabric. 

After you retrieve your item from the ground, you look over your shoulder to make direct eye contact with him and say ‘oops,’ without a hint of regret in your voice. You revel in the clenching of his jaw and the way he exhales loud and heavy through his nose, frustration mounting each time you try to provoke him.

When your ass and clothed pussy are on display for him, you make sure to wiggle your hips a bit, an open invitation to fuck you the way you both want to. It never fails to elicit some sort of reaction from the older man, ranging from a few groans and a choked cough, to making a very hasty exit, a book or some other object held over the front of his jeans. 

Without fail, Hitomi expresses her concern each time her father storms out of the room, red-faced and breathing heavily. He just waves her off, telling her he’s not feeling well, but you know the truth. He’s painfully hard, painfully hard from you, even if he doesn’t admit it.

Truthfully, if you weren’t trying to get him to fuck you so hard you can’t walk you would applaud his self-control and restraint. Even after weeks of teasing and provocation, the man refuses to give in to his desires.

That’s okay. If he’s not going to come to you, you’ll just have to take matters into your own hands.

----

It all reaches a tipping point when you’re unable to go home for winter break and Hitomi offers you their guest room to stay in for a few weeks. 

Apparently she never asked her father for permission, if Keishin’s shocked, slightly panicked face when you walked through the door with your suitcase was any indication. When he tried to question Hitomi about whether or not it’s such a good idea for you to stay, she wasn’t having any of it and told him that you’re a friend in need. 

Hitomi’s so sweet and caring that you feel a twinge of guilt for plotting to seduce her father in her house when she’s none the wiser. She just wanted to lend a helping hand by letting you stay with them, oblivious to your true plans, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

Now that you’re under the same roof, all you really want to do is ambush Keishin as soon as possible, but you have to plan around Hitomi’s schedule so you have bide your time. What’s the saying? Good things come to those who wait?

And wait you do. You wait for two whole weeks, in fact. But then the stars align so perfectly that some otherworldly force must be looking out for you.

Hitomi is gone to work and won’t be back until the middle of the night when her shift is over, while Keishin is home reviewing footage from his team’s latest game. 

He told you he does this right before a big game so he can tell his players what they need to improve on and get in that last bit of refinement before the day of. When he clued you in on his strategy you just nodded and hummed, not really listening, mostly focused on ogling his muscles through his thin t-shirt.

Your nerves have been buzzing since you woke up this morning, sensing the heaviness in the air. You’re wearing your prettiest lace panties and its matching bra and frankly, you’re feeling pretty damn confident. You look good and you know you look good. If you were trying to seduce any guy your age, they’d drop their pants as soon as they got a little glimpse of your underwear, but Keishin’s not any guy your age. He needs a little convincing, a little push in the right direction, and you’ll be the one to help him.

You’ve flitted around the house all day, just trying to find the right moment to pounce. 

Currently, Keishin is sitting in the living room watching the recording on the big flat screen in the living room. He looks preoccupied with taking notes on the notepad in his lap, but it’s now or never, you suppose.

Before you try to talk yourself out of it, you stride over to where he’s sitting and put your hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

“Hey. Did you need something? I’m kind of busy analyzing my team’s last game.”

Not wanting to lose your nerve, you wordlessly swing one leg over his, then the other, planting yourself firmly in his lap. His entire body goes ramrod stiff, hands jerking away from your body as if you’ve burned him.

“W-what do you think you’re doing?” he stutters, alarm evident in his voice.

When he makes no move to throw you off his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lean into him, pressing your chest to his. 

“What we both have been wanting to do since the day I met you,” you purr, lips barely brushing against the shell of his ear. He shivers when you gently nibble on his earlobe and your confidence only grows as you discover that he wants this just as much as you do.

“I d-don’t know what you’re talking about. This isn't right. I’m your friend’s father and I’m... old enough to be y-yours,” he mutters, running a hand through his already messy hair, conflicted with how to proceed.

You can’t tell whether he’s trying to convince you or himself, so you decide to give him a little encouragement.

Leaning back slightly, you run your hands down his chest and bite your lip. “Are we going to keep playing games or are you gonna fuck me? Because if not, I’ve got several guys back at college who—”

You’re cut off when Keishin’s hand wraps around your throat, the other braced against your back to pull you flush against him. 

“You think your little stunts are cute, don’t you?” he growls, his minty breath washing over your face.

“What, you don’t think so, Daddy?” you pout, batting your eyelashes at him innocently.

His eyes flash with something hot and primal and you can feel the gush of wetness between your thighs. “I’m getting a little tired of them,” he growls.

“This,” you palm at the bulge straining against his pants, “Tells me otherwise, you know.”

The hand around your throat tightens, cutting off whatever bratty remark you were about to make. “I’ve had enough of you prancing around my home in tiny skirts and flashing me your panties when my daughter is around. It’s unbecoming.”

“Then t-teach me a lesson,” you gasp, struggling to speak with Keishin’s fingers so firmly wrapped around your throat.

The way he grins is downright sinful and it stokes the fire already raging inside you. “Careful what you wish for, little girl.”

With some manhandling on Keishin’s part, you’re shoved toward the couch then pulled back onto his lap, but this time you’re on your stomach and both your wrists are pinned behind your back.

“Before we go any further,” he starts, trailing his fingers down your spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake. “I have to ask… How old are you?”

You twist around to look him in the eyes, a defiant smirk on your face. “Old enough.” Your mischievous giggle is cut off by a swift, firm slap to your ass.

“Watch the lip, brat. I need a little more reassurance than that.”

“Since you’re just so concerned, I’m nineteen. Perfectly legal and more importantly, legally fuckable,” you say, punctuated by an enticing wiggle of your hips.

“Jesus, you’re two years younger than Tomi. What am I doing?” He seems lost in thought as the honorable side of him fights a losing battle against his baser, carnal instincts. Whatever reservations he has are thrown aside when you start to wiggle in his grasp, maneuvering yourself over his crotch to grind yourself against his hardness.

Keishin gathers your hair around his fist, harshly jerking your head so far backwards that your spine aches from the unnatural angle.

“Stop fucking squirming. You just don’t know how to behave, do you?” It’s phrased like a question, but he shoves two of his fingers in your mouth so you can’t respond. 

You knew Keishin would be the perfect dom, but the ease with which he settles into the role makes your head spin and your insides throb. Latching onto his digits, you lick and suck like the good girl you are, coating them in saliva as he hums in appreciation.

“Foo wans tuh behav wen thith is wutt I ge fo bein ba?” you ask, garbled and muffled by the fingers massaging the back of your tongue. 

A series of harder, heavier spanks make you squeal and squirm even more in his lap. He gently rubs his hand over your warm, stinging flesh as he speaks. “Such a troublemaker. Just what am I going to do with you, hm?” He tries to sound admonishing, but you can tell he’s smiling behind his words.

His hand leaves your ass, no doubt raised to spank you again, but before he can, you bite down on his fingers. Not too hard, just enough for him to jerk them out of your mouth. “You can do whatever you want to me, Daddy.” 

You jolt when his thumb rubs against your pussy through your panties. They’re soaked with your slick, the material clinging to your skin uncomfortably. The barest touch has you gasping and pushing your hips back for more. You’re so sensitive from the teasing and you’re so turned on you just might pass out if you’re not filled up soon.

Keishin just laughs darkly at the pathetic humping of your hips and you can feel the rumbling in his chest. “This is what I love about girls your age. So sensitive…” He pulls your panties aside and gently eases a finger inside you, then another as you moan and shake in his lap. “And so reactive. I bet you’d cum just from me putting my cock inside this tight, wet cunt, wouldn’t you?”

He speaks with a hint of condescension that has you clenching around his digits, coating them in sticky, syrupy strands of your arousal as they pump in and out of you. You’d almost be embarrassed at how worked up you are if you had more self respect, but you don’t. All you can focus on is the way his fingertips curl into the little spongy spot inside you that makes you whine.

“Why don’t you try it and find out?” The challenge in your voice is severely dampened by how breathless and wrecked you are even though you haven’t really even done anything.

His fingers pull out of you with a lewd squelching sound and you can hear him suck them into his mouth. “You taste even better than I imagined, but I want to taste that sweet pussy of yours. Up, little girl.” He coaxes you from his lap and onto the couch so your back is nestled into the cushions.

Sweat is making hair stick to your forehead and you’re breathing so heavily you’d think you just ran a marathon, but Keishin is looking down at you like you’re the most beautiful thing in the world and it nearly steals what little breath you have left in your lungs.

Oxygen is the last thing on your mind when his lips slot themselves between yours, soft yet demanding as they suck and lick. The movement of his lips doesn’t falter when he pulls your shirt over your head to reveal your light pink bra. Keishin pulls back to kiss along your collarbones, neck, and chest, his teeth occasionally nipping your sensitive flesh and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He expertly removes your panties with one hand so you’re left in just your plaid skirt, exposing your heated flesh to the coolness of the living room. 

You’re nearly naked but he’s wearing far too many clothes for your liking, so you blindly grab at his shirt, but your fingers are shaking too much for you to get a good grip. Once he realizes what you’re trying to do, he puts his hands over yours and helps you take off his shirt. You nearly start drooling when all of his hard, rippling muscles and smooth, tan skin are finally revealed to your greedy eyes that can’t seem to settle one thing. You don’t know if you’ll get this opportunity again and you want to remember everything in painstaking detail, especially Keishin’s gorgeous body.

He momentarily disentangles himself from you to remove his jeans, leaving him in just his Calvin Klein boxer briefs. The outline of his cock is evident as it strains against the blue material and you reach out to stroke it, but he just takes your hand in his.

He brings it to his lips, then kisses up your arm until he reaches your lips. “All in due time, sweet girl. I want to taste you first.” Your mouth is claimed in another hungry, bruising kiss and you squeal when Keishin takes your lip between his teeth and bites, blood rushing to the surface of your skin. 

His head dips down to leave featherlight kisses and teasing licks down your chest and stomach before he’s resting between your thighs. You whimper pitifully as he spreads your legs, awaiting the feeling of a wet tongue or his fingers against your folds. When he doesn’t move for several beats, you come to the realization that he’s just watching the way your cunt twitches and clenches around nothing and the wetness that drips onto the couch each time your muscles contract. You quickly bring your legs together to hide yourself from his scrutinizing gaze, but he simply pries them open with little effort.

Keishin grabs your chin so you’ll look right at him, squirming from the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t you dare hide this pretty pussy from me, do you understand? I am going to devour you until I’ve had my fill and you’re going to just lie back and take it.”

You nod obediently, your impudence quickly dying, giving way to the burning ache between your legs that can only be sated by a long, hard fuck.

With a satisfied hum, he settles at the apex of your thighs and licks a long stripe from your quivering pussy to your swollen clit and your hips jerk from the contact. Strong hands pin your hips to the couch as you writhe in his firm grip. He gives your clit a soft, quick kiss before he takes it into his mouth and sucks. You grab fitfully at his hair, back arching and hips pressing into his mouth as you gasp and groan from the incredible feeling of his tongue on your sensitive flesh.

His tongue teases your entrance and your cunt twitches, anticipating the first thrust of his warm, wet muscle inside you. He occasionally dips into your hole, but never breaches your entrance and you think you might go mad if he doesn’t give you more.

“I-I need more, give me more,” you manage to gasp, grabbing a fistful of the pillow underneath you as the tightening in your belly gets stronger.

Keishin removes his mouth from your cunt just long enough to admonish you for your lack of respect. “You need to have more manners if you’re going to demand things of me,” he says, before latching back onto your swollen, twitching clit.

“Daddy, pleeease I need more. Ah! I want to cum!” Your voice is so high-pitched and whiny you almost don’t recognize yourself, but you’re nearly delirious from pleasure and your impending climax that’s been dangled over your head for what feels like hours.

“Now who am I to deny you when you ask so sweetly?”

He thrusts two of his digits inside you, reaching deep inside you and rubbing against your g-spot as he sucks your clit back into his mouth. You’re almost screaming at this point, clawing at his hair and humping your cunt against his face. The familiar tightening in your belly signals that you’re about to cum and your moans and cries get faster, louder as the promise of white hot pleasure is just within reach—

It’s almost embarrassing how fast you’re teetering on the edge of climax, as if you’re a virgin school girl that’s never touched herself before. But maybe that’s the difference that years of experience can make. 

Not that you care. You just want to cum.

“Fuck, Daddy, I—I’m close!”

Sensing your impending orgasm, the man uses his free hand to slap your cheek then grabs your throat. “Uh-uh-uh,” he tuts, “Ask Daddy for permission to cum.” You’re clamping down on his fingers impossibly tighter as he fingers you even deeper, and the way he sucks on your clit renders you incapable of speech. Each time you open your mouth to try to speak, more desperate, wanton noises escape your lips.

You’re about to fucking burst at the seams and you feel like you’re on fire, but you want to be a good girl for your daddy, so you use the last bit of brain power you have left to ask for permission.

“P-pleaaase Daddy may I ahhh! May I cum!” you ask, but you can’t even hear Keishin give his approval from how loud the blood rushing in your ears is as you finally cum.

You try to muffle your cries with the back of your hand, but he grabs your wrist and wrenches it away from your mouth.

“Don’t do that. I want to hear you scream.” His tone is clipped and short, not caring how rough he is with your delicate flesh.

If you weren’t already cumming, you would have from the pleasure that’s so intense, it’s almost painful as your body is wracked with tremors. Your legs snap around Keishin’s head and you grip his hair even tighter as wave upon wave of your orgasm washes over you. You hear someone screaming and wonder what’s happening, when you realize it’s you, you’re the one screaming as you ride out your climax.

He greedily slurps and sucks up every single drop of your release that you can give him, as if he was stranded in the desert for a thousand years and your juices are the first sip of water to hit his dry, parched tongue. Your cunt is already so sensitive, painfully clenching around his fingers, but he just. Doesn’t. Stop.

“Fuck, K-Kei, wait ‘s too much,” you weakly protest, but your body is too spent to resist so you just lie there, twitching and gasping as he keeps sucking on your overstimulated clit.

His lips detach from your poor, abused bud and you almost sigh in relief before the fingers inside your cunt pump faster, stimulating every inch of your gummy walls.

Keishin leans over your sweaty, exhausted form, one hand braced on the couch, the other buried inside you. His fingers are hitting a spot inside you that makes you feel the urge to pee, so you try to push his hand away but it’s futile with how much stronger he is than you. 

“Hold onnn, I’m g-gonna—” you slur, panicked, but it’s as if he didn’t hear you.

His digits are relentless, rubbing and stroking and you’re a fucked out mess. You don’t know what he wants until an uncomfortable tightness shoots through your cunt. You cry out as clear liquid gushes out of you, splashing all over you, the couch, and Keishin. If you were more coherent, you might be mortified because you just… pissed on him—

To your surprise, he’s laughing as he removes his hand from inside you, ignoring your halfhearted groans. “I was hoping you’d do that,” he says, holding up his hand, shiny and dripping with your juices. 

“D-Do what?” you pant, unsure of what just happened and why Keishin seems so smug.

He uses his discarded t-shirt to wipe his hand off, then dabs at your stomach where a sizable puddle accumulated. “Squirt,” he responds. When he sees your confused expression, he follows up with, “It’s not piss, if you’re worried about that.”

“Ooookay.” You’re too dazed and exhausted to argue with him or question him further, so you just flop into the sofa and close your eyes.

“C’mon, little girl, don't tell me that’s all you’ve got. You were talking so much shit earlier and I have so much more to give you.” Despite how tired you are, his words spark new arousal in your belly and defiance revitalizes you, movement returning to your limbs.

You slide a hand down your stomach and spread the puffy lips of your cunt, sliding a finger through your wetness. “Of course it’s not. I’m ready to take that hard cock of yours, Daddy.”

“Attagirl, that’s what I like to see,” he praises, dropping his underwear and sliding them somewhere you can’t see. 

His cock is gorgeous, but that doesn’t come as a surprise, considering the man it belongs to. It’s thick and curved in a way that you know will reach the deepest parts of you.

What you weren’t expecting is the many piercings adorning the shaft and the one that goes through the head. A long curved barbell enters through the tip and exits through the underside of his glans. Three evenly spaced rings are embedded in the skin where his shaft meets his balls. You’ve never seen so many piercings on one man, let alone in such a sensitive place, so you gawk at the smooth metal rings that shine in the overhead lights.

“You’re… You have…”

He grins widely and it’s so devilish you think he might swallow you whole and honestly? You’d let him. You’d let him do whatever he wants to you. “Haha, yeah I get that reaction a lot. Never seen a pierced cock before, huh?”

“No, but there’s a first time for everything. I’m dying to see how those,” you point to his piercings, “Feel inside me.”

Keishin wordlessly climbs on top of you and rubs the head against your wetness, spreading it along his shaft to ease his entry. “They’ll feel fucking incredible, but you’ll have to beg for it.”

You scoff, reaching to grab his hips so he’ll fuck you already, but he scoots backwards so you can’t touch him.

“Naughty girls that misbehave don’t get fucked, so you’d better smarten up quickly,” he warns, making you gasp as he thrusts his cock against your clit.

He lazily nudges the head over your flesh, occasionally letting it catch on the tight ring of muscle around your hole. When he slots between your pussy lips, you try to wiggle and hump your hips in his direction, in hopes that he’ll slide right in.

But he doesn’t, and you’re about to go mad with his cock so close, but so far away.

“Please fuck me Daddy. I need your cock so bad!” You’re on the verge of tears, the buildup of the last few weeks overwhelming your senses.

Making a noise of sympathy, Keishin pets your hair affectionately and kisses your cheek. “All you had to do was ask.”

His hips pull back, then he’s thrusting inside you, sheathing himself to the hilt in your tight heat. You whimper and whine at the sudden intrusion, but any pain you feel is overshadowed by the way that his cock is filling you so full. The burn and stretch hurts so fucking good that your orgasm hits you like a freight train, fast and hard and blinding. Keishin fucks you through it, his cock touching all of the sensitive spots inside you and the pleasure is so strong you have to screw your eyes shut as you cry out and fall apart around him.

When you open them again, the man is staring down at you with the most shit-eating grin you’ve ever seen. “See? I said you’d cum as soon as I put my cock inside you.”

Using all the strength you can muster, you slap his arm. “Shut up and just fuck me.”

“You still haven’t learned your manners, but I just can’t wait to shoot my cum deep inside this cute cunt of yours,” Keishin groans, pulling almost all the way out before burying himself back inside the hot, welcoming clutch of your pussy. 

You can feel each of the metal rings on his cock, foreign and strange, but the odd feeling soon fades to little shocks of ecstasy each time they brush against your insides.

The lewd slapping sounds of skin on skin are all you can hear besides the occasional moan or hiss from the man fucking you within an inch of your life, not that you can focus on anything else right now.

You nudge at Keishin’s shoulder and he stops the rapid pistoning of his hips, an almost annoyed look on his face.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, but you just smile and push him backwards onto the couch, just like you were. He grunts in surprise as he falls backward, but he quickly quiets down when you climb on top of him and sink yourself back down on his length.

You both moan in unison as he fills you once more, the tip of his cock pressing against your cervix each time you force your cunt back down on him. His hands wander to your tits, grabbing, squeezing, and pinching the sensitive buds of your nipples. 

Ever the troublemaker, you can’t resist making a jab at him now that you’re on top. “I wonder what she’d do if she knew you were with me right now. What would your daughter say about you taking advantage of a young, helpless girl?”

Keishin takes that moment to pull you against him, thrusting hard and rough into your gummy walls that never stop pulsing around him. You’re shaking and gasping, your tongue lolling out of your mouth in your pleasured delirium. “With the way your greedy, sloppy cunt is clenching around me, I wouldn’t say I’m taking advantage of you,” he points out, only slightly out of breath. “But you get off on this, don’t you? Letting an old man like me fuck you. I’m old enough to be your father.”

“Like you’re any b-better,” you bite back.

You cry out when Keishin starts rubbing your swollen clit in tight little circles, your third orgasm fast approaching. 

“Fuck! I can—urgh, I can feel your pussy pulsing around me. I’m g-gonna cum,” he grits out, thrusting impossibly deeper inside you. He's pressed so far into you, he’s just thumping the head of his cock against your cervix. You scream and write in his arms, seeking to relieve the sharp burning in your womb just a little bit, but he has you firmly locked in his clutches. “Be a good little girl and cum for Daddy.”

Almost on command, you shake and moan, loud and long, as you cream all over his cock and coat the base in milky white. “Oh fuck, oh god! D-Daddy I’m cu-mming!” you wail with the last of your energy.

You’re so exhausted you go limp against him and let him use your body as a fuck toy until he reaches his climax. Keishin follows soon behind you, his thrusts growing sloppier and less coordinated as he mumbles obscenities under his breath. “Shit shit shit, fuck I’m cumming! I’m gonna—fuck!”

With one last thrust into your fluttering, over stimulated cunt he orgasms, his legs shaking as he shoots rope after rope of cum into your quivering womb.

You both lay there for several minutes to catch your breaths. You’re so sore and boneless you can barely move, but you manage to extricate yourself from Keishin’s long limbs. Leaning into the arm of the couch, you let your eyes flutter closed and allow sleep to take you.

You’re awoken by a warm, wet washcloth rubbing against your sensitive folds and you whine, sleepily wiggling your hips to get away from the discomfort. “Kid, I know it doesn’t feel good but, uh, it’s kind of a mess down there. You can go back to sleep, just let me clean you up.” Keishin’s familiar timbre comforts you so you settle back down, still half asleep.

“Mmm, Keishin?” you mumble, making grabby hands at the man.

He takes one of your hands in his. “Yeah?” he responds as he wipes the washcloth between your legs with his other hand.

You rub your face against his hand before placing a sloppy kiss on top of it. “Thank youuuu,” you slur.

Keishin just chuckles and rubs his fingers over your knuckles. “Yeah kid, you’re welcome. Just get some rest, alright?”

You’re asleep before he even finishes the sentence.

----

When you awaken it’s dark, most likely the middle of the night. There’s a blanket thrown over your unexpectedly clothed body, which is now covered in a worn, oversized shirt. It smells like fabric softener and musk, so you figure it must be Keishin’s.

Looking around, you bolt upright when you realize you’re not on the living room couch anymore, you’re now in a large, comfortable bed.

The sound of a deep, rumbling voice draws your attention to the bathroom connected to the room you’re currently in. “Oh, you’re finally awake,” Keishin says sheepishly as he emerges from the bathroom, then points to the nightstand next to you. “There’s some water and ibuprofen, you should take it. Even if you’re not sore now, you will be later.”

You chuckle tiredly as you stretch your overworked muscles. “I’m already sore, so I’ll definitely be taking these.”

He sits awkwardly on the side of the bed, unsure how to treat you after your little encounter. His brows are furrowed, a deep frown on he’s seemingly deep in thought.

“Whatever you’re thinking, just spit it out.” His head immediately snaps to you, eyes guarded and unreadable.

“What we did downstairs, it’s… not right. I’m supposed to protect young, impressionable girls like you. I’m a father—I would die if Tomi was after a man more than twice her age.”

You pull the blanket off of you and climb over to where the older man is seated on the mattress. “Keishin, let me ask you something.” He lifts his head, expectant. “Did you enjoy what we did? Because I did.” He nods slowly, still unsure what you’re getting at.

Taking his face in your hands, you tell him what you’ve been thinking for weeks. “At the end of the day, we’re two consenting adults who partook in consensual activities. Even if someone wants to clutch their pearls because you’re older than me, who cares?”

“Yeah, I get that, but… It has to be some sort of ethics violation on my part. You’re younger than my daughter, Bunny.”

“Even if it is, you have to allow yourself to live a little. Life is too short to deny yourself pleasures the world has to offer, and I don’t know about you, but I was very pleased by our… tryst.”

A cute blush spreads across Keishin’s cheeks as he remembers everything he said and did to you. “Aha, I was too. So, um… Would you want to do that again, sometime?” he asks, running a hand through his hair like he always does when he’s nervous.

You giggle and tackle him on the bed, wrapping your arms around him and squeezing. “Of course I do. We can even do it now, if you’d like…”

A couple hours later, just before Hitomi comes back, you limp across the hallway to your room and pass out, falling into a deep, dreamless sleep.

And that is how your little arrangement begins.

Most of your time is spent with Hitomi, mostly shopping and going out to eat when she has the day off, or just watching Netflix in her room when you’re both too tired to go anywhere.

However, in the wee hours of the morning when you’re sure that she’s asleep, you sneak up to her father’s bedroom and get fucked so hard and so good you can barely make it back to your bedroom before the sun rises.

It’s a good arrangement, you think, you both get what you want and your friend is none the wiser. You figure no harm, no foul. At the end of the winter break, Keishin will likely want to cut things off with you and you’ll go back to your college dorm as if nothing happened.

But the winter break isn’t over yet, and you plan on making the most of it.

Keishin has been fucking you into the mattress for so long, time no longer even makes sense anymore. 

You’re sweaty and exhausted, muscles so sore and shaky, but the thrusting between your legs shows no signs of stopping anytime soon. The harsh grip on your hips will likely bruise, but luckily you can hide them, unlike the few close calls you’ve had with poorly-placed marks on your neck.

Despite your exhaustion, you continue to meet Keishin’s thrusts by humping your hips back at him.

He gives your ass a harsh spank and fucks into you harder, making you whine and clench around him. “You’re an insatiable little thing, aren’t you? So fucked out and dripping with my cum, yet you still want more,” he says, but all you can do is gasp in response. You’re too far gone to produce any meaningful response. “What am I going to do with you?” If you had the energy, you’d tell him whatever he wants, but you don’t and the familiar tug of an orgasm is too hard to ignore.

“Fuck Daddy, I-I’m—”  

Suddenly, his phone comes to life, Hitomi’s face lighting up the screen as it vibrates. The pistoning of his hips slows, then stops completely as he reaches over and grabs it off the nightstand.

He suddenly pulls out of your sore, abused cunt and you almost whine at the loss before he buries himself back inside you. The way your face is pressed into the mattress makes it difficult, but you manage to turn your head to see what Keishin is doing behind you.

Your eyes widen and you try to wriggle out of his grip when you figure out that he’s going to answer his phone as he keeps fucking you.

A hand wraps around your neck, lifting you up from your position on the bed and you have to follow its movement to prevent your windpipe from getting crushed. You’re pressed against Keishin’s hard chest, and his cock is nestled right against your cervix. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll just stay still and take it like a good little girl.”

The harsh grip on your neck releases and you’re shoved back into the bed, falling onto the comforter.

Keishin sounds completely normal when he answers his phone and it almost pisses you off—how can he be so unaffected when you’re at your wit’s end? 

He chirps into the phone, “Hey sweetheart, what’s up?” The only indication that anything is amiss is the slight breathlessness in his voice and the occasional curse under his breath.

He forces himself even deeper inside you so forcefully that you’re afraid he’ll punch straight through to your womb. You know it’s not possible, but with Keishin, it just might be. He’s always full of surprises, especially when it comes to your body.

“Oh yeah, sure I can drop it off to you later. I’m just a little… preoccupied at the moment,” he says with a sharp thrust of his hips and you can’t help the moan that escapes your lips. Keishin stiffens above you, waiting to see if Hitomi heard you through the phone.

“No, Hitomi, I’m not watching porn! But hold on a second, I think someone is at the door.” He sets the phone on the bed, muting the call as his cock hits your g-spot and you’re shaking, practically shivering in his arms. A couple of hard, coordinated rubs of your engorged clit and you’re cumming, gushing around him and keening as your muscles clench uncomfortably. You scream silently and fall limp onto the bed, unable to hold yourself up any longer. 

You’ve lost count of how many times you’ve cum, but it’s to the point that each successive orgasm borders on the edge of pleasure and pain.

“Better keep quiet, wouldn’t want my daughter to hear you getting your pretty little cunt stuffed full of my cock,” Keishin snarls into your ear and you feel yourself clench painfully around him. Your body is just so worn out, but you know he won’t stop until he’s satisfied. “Or do you want her to know what a slut you are for her father?”

You shake your head vehemently, but the man inside you just chuckles as he keeps fucking you.

“Oh my god, oh fuck I-I…” You’re babbling nonsense to no one in particular.

“Ahh it was just-fuck, it was just some dude trying to sell me security cameras. Anyways, I’ll see you later honey, I love you.” His last few sentences sound rushed, urgent and you can tell from the twitching of his length that he’s close. The moment the phone is hung up, Keishin cages you between his body and the mattress. “Your cunt feels so fucking good, I’m gonna fill you up with my cum. Would you like that?”

You try to nod and make a noise akin to ‘mhm,’ but you’re not sure what it sounds like. You’re not really sure of anything right now, but what you are sure of is you want him to cum inside you.

“I could never deny you anything, sweet girl,” he groans.

Keishin fucks into you harder, faster, and it feels as if he’s quite literally rearranging your guts, he’s so deep inside you. He reaches down between your legs and pinches your sensitive bud between his fingers. “Think you have one more in you, hm?” he asks, but he doesn’t wait for your answer. Of course you do.” He rubs your sore clit the way he knows will have you shaking and coming apart around him.

“Fuck Daddy, fuck I’m cumming!” you squeal, writhing and squirming from the painful, aching tightness of your orgasm as it builds once more. 

“Ergh, fuck yeah, cum on Daddy’s cock as he fills you up. You’re such a good fucking girl for me, I love this sweet pussy.”

You shriek as you cum, your climax so strong that your vision blurs at the edges and you convulse, sore muscles twitching with overuse. 

“Daddy’s gonna breed his sweet little girl, fuck, feels so fucking good!” Keishin groans, burying himself as deeply as he can inside you and shooting his cum into your quivering hole. You sigh in relief at the feeling of his warm cum flooding your womb, thankful he finally came because you couldn’t have lasted much longer in your state.

He flops next to you on the bed, sweaty and exhausted from your hours-long fuck marathon. Throwing an arm over your waist, he pulls you to his chest and buries his nose in your neck. 

Hitomi’s not supposed to come back for several hours, so you both deem it safe to fall asleep as you are. Just when you’re about to drift off, your phone buzzes from the bedside table.

You reach for your phone, expecting it to be some spam email.

Your heart stops, the whole world seems to freeze when you open the text message.

From: Tomie <3

So when were you going to tell me you’re fucking my dad?

[amaranthineoceans]

Everything Weird About Deltarune!

Spoiler Warning for Undertale and Both Chapters of Deltarune! Really! I Literally Go Through Everything I Can Remember About Them!

This is a long post so get comfortable. Also note that my brain doesn't process thoughts into words very well so some of these might not be worded in the best way. :)

Deltarune. The first teaser chapter was released on October 31, 2018, and it came out of nowhere. We've all gone through this, but I'll try and go through every single painstaking detail I can remember. Feel free to reblog and add/correct things.

The weirdness begins right off the bat. The title is an anagram of UNDERTALE. We all know Toby likes to use anagrams when he wants to indirectly tell us when things are related, so it's no surprise that when you go to download DELTARUNE, it warns you that the game is designed for people who have played UNDERTALE. You think, "Cool, so it's a sequel? Or maybe a prequel? A different perspective of UNDERTALE perhaps?" You were wrong; so terribly, terribly wrong! I'll elaborate on this later.

Before you download the application, the terms of service that you must agree to beforehand reads simply and plainly, "You accept everything that will happen from now on." This detail was kinda brushed off in the beginning, because, hey, it's Toby Fox. He does weird stuff all the time. But even in the first chapter, it's apparent that the concept of choice, or more accurately, the lack of it, is a very present theme in the game. I would like to remind you that Toby has announced that there will be one ending in the game. One. I'll elaborate on this later.

The program (as in, what the game is called in your files) is named SURVEY PROGRAM. Why not just call it Deltarune like it is when you download chapter two?

The game launches you, without a title screen, without any setting adjustment options, straight into a reference to the theme of the entire franchise: the lack of choice. A strange formless voice guides you through "making a vessel", with what we know now as a fountain in the background. You have the option to make some very disturbing choices in this character creator, such as making its favorite flavor "pain" or expressing your feelings about it with options such as "fear" and "disgust." You name your "creation," tell the formless voice your name (which is different from your vessel's name) and watch as said formless voice muses over your name at an agonizing pace. It thanks you for your time and tells you that your wonderful creation, (cue music cutout and background removal) will now be discarded. "No one can choose who they are in this world." The screen slowly turns white as the voice says, "Your... name... is..."

It gets weirder. The next scene appears from the whiteness and showcases Toriel calling "Kris" out of bed. Kris' area of the room is very bare in contrast to the other side, which we later discover is Asriel's.

It's Toriel. Why is Toriel here?

Kris is kind of an anagram of Frisk (the protagonist of UNDERTALE) but without the F. I highly doubt this is a coincidence.

Speaking with Noelle is the only reason you can proceed (see what i did there?) while finding a partner in the classroom. This means you can't go through the 1st chapter without knowing who she is. Is it because of the Snowgrave route?

Ralsei is just suspicious to me. There's no way he was just waiting in that castle his whole life alone without some mental toil. So either he's insane or he wasn't alone the whole time. What happened? Is it related to how he can close his eyes and see what Susie is going through when she's apart from the party? Was he just watching everything? Is he related to the formless voice?

Susie's icon is the only one without color in the Dark World.

Jevil's fight is more difficult than Sans'.

Your actions have little consequence in the first chapter. If you choose to go genocide, the only difference in the ending is being run out of the kingdom, and this doesn't carry over to the next chapter. Again, lack of choice, people.

If at the end of chapter one, you walk around town, it's mentioned (notably by Noelle) that you're usually not this talkative. If you go to the hospital and speak with the receptionist, they mention that you used to play the piano in the corner. If you decide to attempt to play the said piano, an out-of-key bash can be heard and the receptionist comments on how you used to play beautifully. If you try this in chapter two, the result is the same. All this is confirmation that Kris is acting noticeably weird.

When you leave the Dark World and walk around town, you can find Sans. He "pretends" to recognize you, and if you tell him you recognize him, he tells you it's funny, considering that you two have never met before. He winks. I'm pretty sure he knows that the player is there.

The mention of Papyrus in both games, but the purposeful lack of him. Like he's avoiding you.

If you go upstairs while inside Asgore's flower shop, there are flowers in glass cases resembling his SOUL collection in UNDERTALE. There's a red flower.

You can't enter the church.

The clock in the storage closet shows a different time than all the others in the school.

If you go all the way south in town and into the woods, the music stops and you come across a rusty, double door is in a hill covered in crass. It's locked. If you go this way in chapter two, however, you watch a cutscene where you and susie happen to find Monster Kid from UNDERTALE (or someone resembling them) and an owl kid in front of the door. The owl kid is pressuring Monster Kid to (presumably) break inside, telling them that they don't want to be a wimp like Kris. Does this imply that Kris is connected to this strange door somehow?

The ending. You know what I'm talking about.

Did Kris actually rip out the SOUL (I say "the" because I'm not entirely sure it's Kris') and knife because they wanted to eat the pie? Did they only eat the pie because Toriel caught them?

Why did they look at the player? Are they sick of being controlled? Is that why they freaked out after the Spamton fight? (later)

Anyway, now we're at chapter two.

DELTARUNE Chapter Two was released on September 17th, 2021. 17. Entry Number 17. Sound familiar?

Asriel's part of the room is different from the last chapter. I don't think this means anything sinister, but I think it means Kris notices different things about the room as the story progresses. My theory is that it will become more sinister in each chapter.

Ralsei getting super excited to see Susie and Kris after a day. As in he has separation anxiety and it breaks my heart. not anything suspicious but it makes me sad so it's on the list.

Kris and Susie's rooms. Ralsei REALLY doesn't want them to leave. Seriously get this boy a therapist. Or a stuffed animal. SOMETHING.

Kris having to gather everything from the storage closet so that people appear in the Dark World????? Why??????????????? They had to do the same thing for the computer lab too.

The golden door. I don't trust it.

How/why the heck did Noelle and Berdley go into the Computer Lab Dark World? I don't see either of them just walking into pulsing void doors without Susie.

Apparently the knight has been gone for a bit and can corrupt people's minds? The king in the first chapter doesn't seem like he can be redeemed but Queen just seems,,, not bad, but a little crazy. I wonder what happened.

Then again, name ONE person in this franchise without trauma.

Spamton.

Horror doesn't bother me. Spamton? Spamton bothers me.

SPAMTON. ENOUGH SAID.

A Kromer is a type of hat invented in the '70s. Nobody named Mike is associated with it, that I can find.

SPAMPTON. HOW DO I EVEN DESCRIBE IT.

HIS SONG IS THE ONLY ONE WITH WORDS.

The way he asks Kris is they want to be a heart on a chain their whole life. Like, dude, no wonder they were screaming after the fight.

WHERE DID THE YELLOW HEART COME FROM. YELLOW MEANS JUSTICE. WHY DOES JUSTICE APPLY.

Kris screaming after the fight and the player not being able to hear it. Don't you dare tell me that's just how the game is designed. There are sound effects characters make throughout the game. None that I can think of apply to Kris, apart from when they rip their soul out.

Ralsei brushing off the Spamton fight. Either that's his coping mechanism or he was trying to shut Susie and Kris up to protect them from... something. I'll touch on that in a minute.

According to Queen, DETERMINATION is a key factor in creating a fountain.

Also according to Queen, Kris, Noelle, and Susie all have DETERMINATION SOULS.

Ralsei freaking out about Berdley making a fountain implies that he may also have DETERMINATION. Why I'm bringing all this up will make sense soon.

How was Noelle able to cast Snowgrave... a spell that she, according to her, didn't know?

The Snowgrave route is so twisted.

You manipulate Noelle into killing Berdley and then, when you get back to the computer lab and investigate his corpse, the text box says that he doesn't seem to be awake. As if you're in denial?

Burgerpants recognizes you. Not Kris. As in the player.

The ending. I don't think I need to describe it. Kris is very methodical without the SOUL. (I say "the" because, again, I'm not 100% convinced it's theirs.) I'm saying this about how they left clues that someone broke into the This proves that they are NOT a mindless, vengeful husk.

HOW DID THEY MAKE THE FOUNTAIN WITHOUT THE SOUL INSIDE OF THEM. DID THEY FEED THE SOUL TO IT AFTERWARDS? IS THAT WHAT THAT WAS?

Another point I would like to make is my theory that Ralsei knows much more than he would have us believe. I might put this into a different post because I have yet to gather my points into a coherent bullet point list, so keep an eye out for that.

Anyway apart from Toriel and Susie being VERY heavy sleepers, I think I've gone through everything. I have a few theories.

1. Kris is possessed by the player and figured out that they could make a fountain from Queen and related to Spamton freaking out about freedom. They then decided to make a fountain going by the logic that "this would tick the player off." This is one of my top theories that assumes that the SOUL is theirs.

And 2. Kris is possessed by both the player and the knight. I think the formless voice at the very beginning of the game is the knight, and they somehow needed the player to possess someone with DETERMINATION. If so, then why Kris? We know from Queen that Noelle and Susie, and maybe even Berdley also have DETERMINATION. The most plausible thing I can think of is the fact that human souls are stronger than monster ones.

I do think that the popular theory (about the one that suggests that the Dark Word is nothing but a figment of a child's imagination, and the events that occur in said Dark World are simply children playing with toys) has been thoroughly dashed due to Berdley's murder in the genocide route of the second chapter. Unless he's not dead. Regardless, how the events (or lack thereof) that occur in the second chapter play through the next will be interesting, especially considering Toby's announcement about how there will be one ending to the game. So either Berdley isn't dead, or he will be.

Aaaand I think that's it! Sorry for the long post; let me know your thoughts and if I missed anything!

[missgeniality]

A Date With Destiny (m)

“Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves, alone - we find it with another.” - Thomas Merton

➺ Pairing: Jungkook x Female Reader

➺ Trope: Strangers to Lovers, Idol!AU

➺ Genre: Fluff, Smut, one comedian in the mix

➺ Rating: 18+

➺ Word Count: 11k

➺ Summary: You are a boss lady in the tech industry travelling to world for work. He is a chart-topping artist touring the globe to perform in front of millions of fans. In the cosmos of life, you are not likely to cross paths. Luckily, fate has a different plan for you two.

➺ Warnings: dom!jk, unprotected sex (sex is cleaner when you pack your weiner!), hickeys galore, lot of spit, oral (male and female receiving), balls receive attention, throat fucking, cum eating, edging, masturbation kinda?, cum play, pussy slapping, pussy sniffing, fingering, squirting, spanking, pain kink?, tit slapping, reader teases a bit but this man is a tease maestro, cum stuffing (is that a thing even?), Jungkook’s THIGHS need their own warning

➺ Author’s Note: @ppersonna​​ is an angel among us peasants. Thank you so much for all your help with this!   This is my first attempt at writing, and the tiniest feedback goes a long way! Hope you enjoy! 

When you die, the first pit stop you make is to the coffee gods. 

Without coffee, this whole month would have been a disaster. Back-to-back meetings, daily flights, countless documents being read, it’s a miracle your eyes are open and fully functioning. 

Being the Chief Technical Officer of a well-established company at your age had been anything but a cakewalk. You had strived hard and crossed many boulders to come to where you are. But if reaching that point required huge amounts of effort, now your work is tenfold. 

“Why can’t I just get longer flights so I can nap in them?” You mumble into your nth cup of coffee - not keeping count is for your own sanity. 

“Because longer flights apparently have crying children. You, our resident baby-magnet hypothesized that shorter flights equal more time in hotel rooms ‘sleeping’. Guess who sleeps in said hotel rooms? Everyone but you.” Your personal assistant and part-time truth-spouter Jake offers helpfully. 

“Past me was such an idiot.” You shoot back, wondering if you could inject the espresso right through your veins.

Jake pouts. “Woman, you take on jobs that an intern could do. If you weren’t such an unnecessary perfectionist I would be on the beaches of Thailand, getting sensual massages and eating some pretty pussy. But here we are, on our way to Seoul. So quit your whining because clearly, I have lost more.” 

“What if I wanted to do that too?”

“Can I watch?” 

“Right.” And that was the end of the conversation. 

Passengers on flight KE654 from Bangkok to Seoul are requested to report for boarding at Gate 45A. First Class passengers will be boarded first, followed by Business class and lastly Economy. Please keep your boarding pass ready for checking.

Jake stands up, groaning. “This is where we say goodbye. Do you wanna pretend like we’re strangers and have a hot one-night stand when we land?” 

“Sometimes I think it’s your natural response to flirt with a breathing being. Do you ever accidentally just, you know, flirt with a tree?” You try to sound sarcastic, but you’re genuinely curious. 

“If a day comes when a hot specimen like me has to flirt with a tree, humanity is doomed. Catch ya later!” He blows you a kiss before leaving for the restroom. You shake your head in awe, a small smile finding your lips. He knew how to get your mind off things.

For all his flirting, Jake’s interest in you is perfunctory. He looks after you, keeps you from starving or gouging your eyeballs out, and calms you when things are too hard. He’s seen your worst. You’ve seen him drunk out of his mind, bailed him out when he “accidentally” smoked up, and heard every new pick-up line his ingenious brain churned out. Basically, you’ve seen his worst as well. 

You take a look at your boarding pass. 3C. Jake would be in business class, and you in first. Not your choice, the company makes the rules. It's for the better, he says. Apparently, he can ‘prowl for his hunt better’, without your judgmental glare. You nearly vomit on him just for his choice of words.

Entering the flight, you stash away your hand baggage the first place you find the room and head to your seat and-

Holy. Shit.

Jeon Jungkook is sitting on your seat.

Jeon Jungkook is on your flight? 

BTS is on your flight? 

What are the odds?

Granted, you’re not a 16-year old obsessive fan, collecting photocards and waving light sticks through the screen, but even in your adulthood you’ve admired their music and shows, routinely keeping up with their discography. 

Hell, you even learned Korean years ago to better understand their songs. Maybe you are an obsessive fan.

But you can’t approach them like that. They no doubt want some privacy and not be recognized. God forbid you approach Jungkook with crazy eyes, just to be escorted off the plane for stalking. While you liked their work, you had your own, and getting thrown off this flight does not help you there.

So, you’re just gonna have to speak to him like just another passenger. 

BTS who? 

Biggest boyband who? 

You only listen to Frank Sinatra. 

“Excuse me?” You call out, a shiver of a whisper leaving your lips. You immediately chastise yourself for being so star-struck.

Big, round eyes glitter under the bucket hat. The softest ‘huh’ throws a lasso over your heart, and holds it captive. He adjusts his hat, inked fingers making a brief yet lasting appearance. The epitome of tenderness, you muse as his eyes flit here and there to figure out the situation. After finding no one to help him out, he gently offers “Yes?”

You feel extremely guilty for marring his serene face with creases of trouble. “I think this is my seat. See, 3C.” you say, pointing to the seat and then to your ticket for good measure. Did he suspect you recognize them? No. Do you look like you’re over-gesticulating? Totally. 

“Oh.” His brow distresses further, the sight has you ready to give the man your seat and hide in the bathroom for the rest of the flight. “But even I am 3C.”

His ticket shows the same characters as yours. 

Huh?

With both your faces contorted in confusion, an air hostess comes forward to help. 

“We both are booked on the same seat. How does that happen? Do I need to catch another flight?” You suddenly pour out, remembering the countless commitments you have in Seoul that would go down the drain if you don’t make it by tonight.

She's quick to reassure you. “Do not worry ma’am, I’m sure there must have been an error in the printing. I’ll be right back.” At the same time, Jungkook is approached by someone, probably one of their staff, to discuss the issue.

The air hostess returns smiling. “Ma’am, you both were booked on the same seat but this adjacent seat was left empty. We are extremely sorry for the error. You may take 3B.” She reiterates the same message to Jungkook in Korean, who then looks mighty relieved. 

Goddamn, his eyes got bigger. How much bigger can they get?

“All okay then?” He glances sideways, smile irradiating your senses and waking you up better than all the coffee could. 

“All good. Sorry for the trouble.” You add, even though it isn’t your mistake in any way.

“No no. No trouble” He beams back. 

Aw, you are in trouble. 

As the flight is about to take off, you can see the rest of BTS in the rows ahead of you, with some other staff members taking up other seats. There’s one old man with a scowl on his face, whom you can’t place with the BigHit group. Great, no crying kids. Unless the frowning grandpa snores to the heavens, you can actually catch a good four-hour snooze. Take that, Jake. Hope a kid blows snot in his face. 

Looking at your neighbor, you find him busy searching for a good video game on the screen. The other members seem to be using this flight to catch a nap, except him. You always wondered whether their on-screen persona was real or not. Now you could say at least one of his characteristics is true. 

Turning away, you bring your focus back to the document at hand. The schematics for a new product your company was launching. You had spearheaded its conception and looked over every single detail in its manufacturing. The Seoul branch is one of the main players in its production, and your last stop before heading back home. You must have every word in this file burnt in the back of your eyelids to make this deal smooth. 

Reclining your seat, and putting your legs up, you got down to business.

An Angel was calling you. 

You want to wake up, but you couldn’t, fearing the Angel would stop singing to you. Something is poking you, but the voice just drowns it all out.

Wait...

Fluttering your eyes open, you see Jeon Jungkook staring right at you. 

“Hi... They, umm--Food? Want to eat?” the Angel utters. Jungkook utters. Tomato, to-mah-to. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, wiping non-existent drool on your face. His palm on your shoulder quickly retracts at your exaggerated attempt to hide your embarrassment. “Thank you so much.”

Then, he does that thing. He smiles. Eye scrunch and all. 

Fuck the coffee gods. When you die, you want to meet the Grand Master and ask him what crack he was on to hand over so much power to one man’s smile. 

The food is placed on your table, and you thank the hostess graciously. 

“Do you need anything to drink?” She asks, to which you only shake your head. There was enough caffeine in your system to shoot a horse to the moon and you were still drowsy. There was no need to catalyze this process with booze.  

“Your Korean accent is pretty good.” Your next-seat resident comments. Ah, you had conversed with the hostess in Korean. 

“Thank you very much.” You giggle, roleplaying an acne-prone teenager talking to her hunk of a crush.

“Have you been speaking for a long time?” He pops a huge morsel of food after asking. Well, that’s another on-screen quality found to be accurate.

“Six years now. Comes in handy for my work.” 

“Oh! Did you have to learn it for work? That’s fascinating.” Another mouthful went in. You didn’t even know it was physically possible to hold that much rice using chopsticks.

“Uhh.. no..” You tussle your hair, trying to stop your cheeks from turning beet red, “I just listened to some music and consuming more content.. and subtitles are a bore, plus I needed a hobby at the time so..” 

Your unnecessarily long explanation was cut short by Jungkook’s child-like laugh, enjoying the pickle you were putting yourself in. 

“Hey! I just didn’t want to put you in an uncomfortable situation, that’s all.” you try to be cross, knowing it’s inconceivable since God himself seems to have given him whatever he wanted. If big ol’ Almighty can’t stand against his charms, you are but a mere pleb. 

He looks at you kindly. “Thank you, that was very thoughtful. I’ve been speaking to so many foreigners trying to get across to them I got surprised when you spoke so fluently.” 

He went back to chomping on his food like it was his last meal, completely unaware of your staring.  

You both speak for a long time. He explains their latest shoot and fan meeting, and you listen to him pour out his love for his job and fans as much as he could articulate. The rest of the emotion is portrayed by his now widest eyeballs (they cannot get any wider, you confirm by asking him - a request he apparently gets a lot) and intense gesticulation. It is very gratifying to listen to his past schedules, and you slip in a quick prayer for not having a job where you had to maintain public appearances while having a schedule as persevering as theirs. Sure, you had a ton of commitments. But can you throw your hair in a bun and aggressively scowl at a monitor and still meet your target? Fuck yeah.

You went on to tell him about yourself - your job, your travels, the reason you were in Seoul. He listens to them with rapt attention throwing in appropriate questions without interrupting your flow. He gives the right amount of sympathy; just enough to show that he understands why you have three sets of nightwear and a futon in your office, but not too much where it seems like you should “take a break” and “think about the joys of motherhood” - as you are often told. 

During the conversation, you digress a little to take in his slight features. The apple of his cheeks, in full display, when he tells you about how he pranked his members. The light pout of his lips when he talks about the times their path seemed too far-fetched, when every single obstacle felt like the end of their career. The stars in his eyes when he speaks of how he feels during tours, meeting the endless number of fans, the drive that keeps him going. They all make an endearing package. Eager to please, you kept the conversation going with gusto. The meal is followed by a snack break, after which you had effectively exhausted all conversation topics that could be brought up with near-strangers.

A quick alcohol break later, (yes, you caved, the catalyst was welcome) you both doze off, seemingly exhausted from recollecting respective timetables. He wakes up soon after to play video games and talk to the other members. But you fall into a deep slumber, with an Angel’s chuckles in the background guiding you through the sleep. 

Jungkook wakes up to see his character dead. The video game was forgotten after his conversation with you began. 

He spent an inordinate amount of time talking to you. And now that you’re asleep, he is only thinking about how much he enjoyed the conversation. Jungkook is not a speaker. His introversion leaves much to be desired in that department. Most of the time, his members cover for him, play the role of dutiful wingmen, and introduce him to their friends. And still, it took him a long time to talk freely.

But something about you made him open up.

Maybe it was the way you listened to him, lips slightly parted when you were absorbing every single word he let out. Maybe it was the questions you asked, treading lightly and skirting any personal questions. Maybe it was the fact that you pretended to not know him at first, mindful of his privacy. The butterflies in him could be explained by this.

But.

It could also be how graceful you looked, even though you’re dressed in sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt. It could be how you carried yourself, with great elegance and poise, even though your work was taxing. It could also be your toe socks, and your glee when he showed you his.

Your personality is infectious. He already misses you, despite you being inches away, desperately wants to exhaust every second of this journey engrossed in you. 

He wonders if you feel that way too.

Speaking of whom-

A snicker escapes his lips when he turns to face you. 

In your sleepy haze, Jungkook sees that a) your mouth is wide open, b) your hands mindlessly fiddle with the reams of pages on your lap, and c) your eyes scrunch as sunlight pierces through the flight to bounce off your face. Cute, he muses, trying to locate the source of the criminal rays irking you. 

The window letting the sunbeam in is beside an old man sitting on the other end. He is eyeing the magazine in his hands with abject disapproval, like the booklet had sullied him and his family. 

Gathering up the courage, Jungkook calls out for the man.

“Excuse me, sir. Do you mind pulling the window shade?” He asks, in the sweetest voice that his hyungs would melt at first listen. 

Puppy eyes are met with the geezer’s piercing glare, making Jungkook wonder if he accidentally said something strikingly offensive instead of what he thought he said. About to backtrack his words and try again, he gets interrupted by the man letting out a big grunt, after which he continues in his endeavor to telepathically set fire to the magazine. He does not forget to give a nasty side-eye but completely refuses to comply with Jungkook’s request. 

“And my team thinks my glares are spooky.” You pique, having witnessed the whole interaction, “I ought to have him on board”. Jungkook snorts, and you take that to be his agreement. 

Pausing, you throw caution in the wind and add, “Thank you though, that was very sweet of you.”

He eyes you demurely. “No problem, you looked like you needed the rest.” 

“Listen, I-”

“So I was think-”

Ladies and gentlemen, we have just been cleared to land at the Incheon International airport. Please ensure your backpacks and suitcases are stowed away in the overhead compartments or underneath the seats ahead of you. The flight attendants are currently passing around the cabin to make a final compliance check and pick up any remaining cups and glasses. Thank you.

High-quality curses almost make it to heaven (speakers). The announcement dissipates all the courage you had mustered, feeling a rush exit your body. You had almost asked for his contact - and by the looks of it, he had wanted it too. Or maybe your hair is a rat's nest and he was just going to point that out. Guess you will never know.

You shyly smile at each other before going about following the instructions. Your half-read document gets stuffed back into its bag, to be read once you have no distractions in the form of eye candy armed with saccharine speech. Well, you have Jake to distract you plenty, but you can shoo him away by threatening his paycheck. 

As the flight descends, you look over to your neighbor - one last time, you guess - and surprisingly lock eyes with him. Anything that had exited you comes rushing back, veins in full alertness. A moment’s awkwardness later you both burst out laughing, each doing their best to hide their crimson cheeks. You find one more online fact to be true - Jungkook’s peak happiness laughter, eye crinkle and nose scrunch, can melt your whole entire heart. 

“Hey mami, come here often?”

“For the last time Jake, I will not hesitate to donate your bones for science.”

“Well, I heard bone, it's already a win for me.”

You let out a sigh of exasperation. There is no reforming him. 

“How was the flight?” Jake questions as you approach the baggage belt. Looking out for your somber black suitcase, you try to play it off like you did not spend the whole time in the company of a stranger who is on the fast track to your heart.

“The usual. Sleep, eat, read needlessly printed out documents that could have been shoved into on email, repeat. What about you?”

As Jake starts an account of his flight experience in exorbitant detail, you took the opportunity to try and find your ride. Once you locate it and get in, you catch the end of his sermon. 

“-and the name of the book will be ‘How to manage a farm - ‘cause chicks gon’ be crazy!’. What do you think?”

“I think it was a good idea I chose to zone out.”

“Y/N come on! It’s a self-help book for poor souls born without my raw charisma. Men and women out there want me, but I can’t satisfy them all. I will just resort to making more of me! It will have pointers, DIY’s and pick-up lines crafted by yours truly - wanna hear one?”

You throw your bag in front and turn to him. “Do I have a choice? Go ahead.”

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he starts. “Am I cute? Squish my cheeks. Am I hot? Clap my cheeks.”

You raise an eyebrow. “Points for creativity. You’ll still get wine splashed at you.”

Jake was not one to give up. “‘It’s good we don’t need eye condoms, or you’d be on your way to delivery.’”

“Just… don’t have kids, okay? This gene must be stopped, right here.”

“Okay, this one is my all-time favorite. ‘Rack so big, I don’t motorboat, I motorship.’”

That’s it. The guffaw itching you since the start of this conversation is out of its cages, populating the air in the car. Wiping stray tears from your face, you face Jake, seeming very pleased with himself. Undoubtedly, he is coming up with absurd scenarios to ease your nerves. No book is in the works (one could only hope).

“Thank you, I feel much better now. You can stop coming up with these.”

The goof has the gall to look appalled. “I was going to cut you ten percent of my book commission but I guess that’s out. Hmph.”

“I’m at the receiving end of all these pick-up lines. I should make twenty at least for all the nuisance I’ve put up with.” 

“All right mami, we’ll shelve this for later. Here’s the schedule for today. You have a 10 a.m. breakfast meeting with Dr. Park Shin Young, Lead Research Scientist of the project. Then you have a bunch of seminars to attend, which will go on all afternoon. There’s a bar right beside this venue.”

“How is that pertinent?”

“So you know where to find me.” He continues, unperturbed. “After which there’s an evening meeting with the whole team to demonstrate the product and a marketing meeting right after.”

“Am I required for the marketing meeting?” Your expertise is limited to the technical field. PR work isn’t your cup of tea, but they stubbornly demand your presence. 

Jake exhales. “We’ve been through this. You CAN doze off during the meeting, but you have to be there. Just pretend you’re a college student, sitting in one class, completing assignments for another.”

“But if I’m there I feel the need to pay attention.” you whine.

“Clearly you weren’t one of those college students,” Jake says, perusing through his diary, “Stop being a pedant and do one of those things people do. Loving their jobs and whatnot.”

Before you can retort a reply, the driver pulls up to your destination and you exit the car. 

Eleven at night is when you finally check in to the hotel. The tedious day warrants your heels coming off before you even reach your floor. There’s an irritant drumming, from the balls of your feet right up to your temples, that beg for your attention. Setting your footwear on your bags, you massage your feet for temporary relief as the lift took you closer to a more permanent one.

Once your suitcase gets parked in the closet, you head to the bathroom to soak your day away with the bath bomb kit you were gifted in one of the seminars. The ball fizzles as soon as it hits the water, dispersing in tiny bubbles and a heady aroma of vanilla and lavender. The soft amber tones of the walls, the lambent gold lighting, and the ambrosial air put all your senses at ease. You sink in; the bathwater permeating warmth through your skin. Crackling bubbles with every move; the water teases your neck, soothing the laceration with every lick. Every pulse point on you is enhanced - you let yourself float wherever your mind takes you. 

A familiar face makes its presence known. You allow yourself to think about him, after pushing his visage away all day. Something about him… felt like home. Soothing, comforting, always speaking in dulcet tones unless something humorous pulled out a loud laugh. Even that wasn’t jarring; it was the exact opposite. Felt like sunshine filled your lungs every time he cracked up. Made you want to keep talking to him, keep him amused and entertained. You can’t imagine he converses with every stranger like that. 

But maybe he did; maybe this is some unspoken celebrity culture you were unaware of. 

All you know is that this was a once in a lifetime experience. There’s no way you are encountering another personage ever again. There’s no way you’re encountering him again. Luck can only thrive so far. 

So when you exit the bathroom, clad in a towel, remnant bathwater dripping from every end, the last thing you expect is Jungkook, spread out on the bed, casually flipping through his phone like it’s his own abode. 

“J-Jungkook?”

Y/N. In his room. In a towel. Dripping wet hair. Emanating a delectable aroma. 

Y/N. In person.

He is dreaming. He has to be. He's been thinking of you ever since the flight, so now he is delusional. Nothing else. There’s absolutely no chance that you’re in his room, let alone… like this. 

Right?

“What are you… what are you doing in my room?”

Wrong. 

Jungkook knows he should say something. He should not be gawking at you like he is doing now. But God. You look so pretty, eyebrows arched up in confusion, jaw about to be unhinged, hands fluttering around not knowing what to do. 

He forces his body to action.

"Y/N!" He exclaims, finally averting his eyes to face the wall. 

Pause.

"Wait, what do you mean MY room? This is my room!"

You’re baffled. "Huh? How is that possible? This was given to me!" 

“I really don’t know, Y/N, there must have been some confusion! Please, you have to believe me!” 

Jungkook wants to turn around and face you. He desperately wants to clear the air. He can see that this looks bad. He obviously looks like an enamored creep, waltzing into your space. You probably think he does this all the time. Many a time people have misunderstood him, his celebrity status not earning him many points. You must think the same.

And now you’re going to tell him to get out and never see you again, he hypothesizes. His brain is working overtime trying to remedy the situation, without noticing your now relaxing demeanor. 

“Oh, okay.”

“I’ll fix this, I’ll go to the reception and fix this. You don’t worry, I didn’t see anything, you can trust me, I’ll go an-”

“Hey, hey,” your tone gentle, “it’s okay, trust me. Just, let me get dressed and I’ll come down with you.”

Your soothing response almost has Jungkook on his knees. Whoever orchestrated this meet, he is just thankful for this good turn. Anyone else would go berserk, and rightfully so. 

But you’re not anyone else. 

He isn’t just anyone.  

Technically, he isn’t a stranger, you try to justify. You should have been more shocked, enraged, or at least doubtful of his intentions. But you weren’t. You had accepted his explanation, let him stay in your room while you changed in the bathroom, and now are en-route to the main desk to rectify this error.

The air around you two is strained; he won’t even look you in the eye. Any question you have is replied to concisely, leaving no room for a chat. Nothing to disperse the tension between you two. 

Like now, in the elevator, Jungkook has done the math and maintains the maximum distance between you. Opposite ends of the diagonal of this lift, his peripheral vision probably barely picks you up. However, his evasion helps in a way--you are able to study his full form.

He is dressed casually, and any lesser man would have seemed casual enough. On him, it is a whole new game. Ripped jeans hugging his sturdy legs, the slashed fabric allowing you a peek of his dangerous thighs. A plain white t-shirt tucked in to show off his lean waistline. The only thing holding you back from having a full-blown wet dream, wide awake, is his chestnut overcoat, saving his modesty and yours. 

Jake was right, eye condoms are the need of the century. 

To be fair, Jungkook had the worse end. He saw you scantily clad, post-bath glow and everything. You wonder what is going through his mind. 

Definitely nothing like the debauchery unfolding in yours. 

He has probably seen his fair share of women, and one hot to trot lady isn’t anything new. If anything, him dodging you is a sign of his civility, something you are lacking apparently--ready to jump his bones.

Stop thinking about his thighs, you whore. Get back home and trusty old Vlad the Impaler will take care of you.

The employee’s jaw almost hits the desk as Jungkook explains the situation. 

“Ma’am, Sir, we are extremely sorry about this confusion. We usually keep another key for family members, but somehow you got them both. We are deeply apologetic.”

“Yes, it’s okay, I’d just like my room key now and-”

“We will give you the best of our service to make up for this disorder. Not that we didn’t plan on giving you the best anyway, but now it will be top-notch! Please allow us to have your room cleaned again ma’am. Kyuyoung-ah! Get the people to prep 5338 and set 5337 again, and add more flowers!”

“Hey, that really won’t be necessary, we can just go back and forget about all thi-”

“And!” She continues, relentless, fully intent on doing her job, “Here are coupons for our round the clock pub! The ambiance is phenomenal, and our bartender makes a mean drink! You can use the facility for free during your stay. Hope this compensates for our gaffe. Once again, we are extremely sorry!”

She extends two passport-sized coupons that you hurriedly grab, wanting this quandary to end. 

The walk back to the elevator is less tight-lipped, only because Jungkook starts his deluge of apologies. Even though you had felt the same way on the flight, he was going overboard. You quickly assuage him and deflect his concerns.

“It’s okay, Jungkook. It really is. I know it was a mistake.”

“I know, but I shouldn’t have just walked in like that. I should have checked.”

Your expression is the visual form of a question mark. 

“Do you go around making sure your hotel room doesn’t have a surprise occupant?”

You’re taking this too lightly; it's obvious you are doing it for him. He can only laugh, broad delicious shoulders loosening in relief.

After a delay, you add, “You can’t help it if fate wants us crossing paths like this.” 

The quip makes Jungkook lose a beat. He cocks a brow in surprise - at that juncture, his features lose all boyish charm and turn unquestionably irresistible. 

Then, in a flash, the expression is replaced by his usual grin, back to his boy-next-door spirit. Are there world records for this speed? Jungkook needs to sign up to one.

Collecting the stars floating around your head, you return the favor, thankful that the barrier is now broken. 

After a quick break of courage gathering, you turn to him. “How come you’re staying in this hotel? Thought you’d be home.”

A thought is building in your mind; that this is too personal a question. But before you can take it back, you hear a chime. Jungkook moves. And somehow, you are moving with him. 

The elevator door opens, and people walk out. 

But that’s not where your attention is. 

You are focused on the sole patch of your body in contact with Jungkook’s arm. 

The palm of his hand sitting at the small of your waist is what had guided you away from the elevator. Even through the fabric of your t-shirt, his hand is sending goosebumps all over your body. The air feels twenty degrees too hot for you.

Jungkook is simply being his chivalrous self, while you are ready to get arrested for public nudity.

Woman, you are a disgrace. Get laid.

Jungkook will high five himself once he gets to his pad. 

Is it right to get so euphoric about the smallest act of intimacy? That too with a near stranger? He has no answer. You are special to him; that much he knows. And someone up there agrees with him as well, letting him run into you again (albeit under crude circumstances; he’ll take what he gets). In this proximity, he can hear the slight gasp that escapes you once you recognize his hold, feel your muscles tense, smell the flowery fragrance you still carry. The fragrance that takes his mind on a rewind routine; one he forces to a halt. He feels lewd for taking pleasure in that misfortune, but he can take pleasure in the present. 

Entering the elevator, Jungkook has taken note of one thing: the roles have been reversed. On the downward voyage, it had been him avoiding you. Now, even with the closeness, you refuse to meet his eye. Something on the carpeted floor has your unrelenting attention. Letting his gaze dip to you, he bit back a smirk. Good to know you are as affected by him as he is by you.

“It’s a shoot.” 

You relent, looking up to him. “Huh?”

“You asked me why I’m here, it’s a shoot. The site is close by, so we don’t waste time traveling. Once the shoot is done, we will get back home.”

“Ah, that makes sense.” 

You beg your grey matter to find some topic of conversation to halt the blood rushing to your cheeks. The atmosphere is frozen again, but not like last time. Any unease earlier present has drifted. The tension that once kept you from closeness now keeps you from moving apart. His hand sits unmoved, continuing to rest on your hip. Jungkook can hear the loud thudding of a heartbeat, but he cannot discern whether they are from his heart or from yours.

Continuing after a pause, “I will be here for a few days now.” he adds, the suggestive hint of the words masked by his innocuous smile. 

“Ah.” You lamely add. You ought to kick yourself - but at this closeness, you might hit him too. 

The span of your separation is contracting, even though none of you move. Like the land underneath you is shifting, because even Mother Earth can’t handle the sexual tension in this confined space. 

“Ma’am, Sir, you’re here!” 

The booming voice of an employee disrupts the scene. You jump, wondering how you didn’t hear the door open, while Jungkook takes a graceful step back unscathed. 

“Your rooms are ready, please follow me.”

The walk back is quiet, except for bashfully exchanged glances and racing pulses. When you finally reach your respective rooms, he speaks again. 

“Want to accidentally cross paths with me at the bar?”

The heat reaches your ears. A moment of silence prompts you to look up, and you are held hostage by his eyes. His gaze flickers, intense and probing. Then, as if it never happened, his eyes narrow and his smile softens, harmless and easy. Again, this has to be witchcraft.

“Maybe we’ll let destiny decide. Hasn’t failed us so far.” 

Now, alone in bed with nothing but your thoughts, you wonder when it will ever happen again.

Three days. Three days before it happens again.

Three days filled with conferences, a ton of files, and a lot of battery acid disguised as coffee. Apart from the success of your work, the highlight of your time is when Jake tried to fix his shoe heel at a meeting and ended up gluing his fingers together. In a quiet room filled with immersed employees, he had yelled, “Superglue, my ass!”. 

The punctuation was not vocalized. 

Tonight was your last night in Seoul. It was supposed to be a night to yourself, but an office party pulled you out of your cavern to get dressed. You put on an elegant dress, a black and silver number, only to find the ‘party’ was the most monotonous excuse of networking. High-end businessmen exchanging cards over non-alcoholic fizz was not your idea of a party, so you quickly excused yourself. 

The coupon still weighed heavy in your purse, carrying memoirs of the last time you saw him. You had wanted to go earlier, but always held yourself back. What if he wasn’t there? What if you missed your chance? Why did you have to sashay away with a cool statement that night instead of clawing your way through the lust-filled air and settling things then and there? 

You supposed a drink at the hotel bar on your last night couldn’t be a bad thing, even if Jungkook didn’t show up.

So here you are, sipping on your wine and trying to appear nonchalant as you look out the window overseeing the city’s skyline. One ear is trained to the door of the pub, the slightest peep from that corner alerting your antenna. 

So far, no sign of him. 

This won’t work, you tell yourself. Second time’s a charm, third time’s pushing it too far. 

But as you wave the bartender to top up your drink, the corner of your eye catches movement; one, two, three heads appear through the door. Signature multichromatic mops of hair make their way in, forcing your pulse to marathon mode. 

And then you hear it. 

You hear his trademark cachinnate echoing through the structure. Multitudes of contrasting sentiments fill your gut. Are you sensing relief, that fate served its purpose without fail? Or is it the anticipation of how events will unfold? A sense of titillation, that a three-day old bond makes you feel more than year-old relationships you’ve had? You pry your eyes from that direction, trying to appear aloof when you are anything but. 

When you think you’ve gathered your composure, you look up. Like a hare falling for its bait, you are trapped, because he is looking right back at you.

Jin and Jimin are laughing about something that happened on set today, but Jungkook only has eyes for you. He can’t believe his luck. 

The past few days, his schedule had no give. After every shoot, the only thing he remembered was taking off his shoes and falling into a deep slumber.

So today when the shoot wrapped up earlier, Jungkook grabbed his trusty wingmen and open bar enthusiasts to utilize his coupon, and possibly test his kismet.

“Wasn’t she on our flight?” Jin observes, tracking Jungkook’s sight. 

“Oh yeah! Dude, is she the one?” Jimin keenly notes. “How do you keep bumping into each other like this?”

Jungkook downs his whisky, the burn felt from the throat to his diaphragm. “I don’t know, hyung. I don’t know what to do.” Beckoning the bartender for a refill, he tears away from your sight. 

 “Okay, liquid fortification is all good but how about,” Jin stops briefly to pluck the coupon out of Jungkook’s hands, “we handle the drinks department while you attend to her?”

Jimin nods in assent. “The worst thing you could do is spend time with her slurring and garbling while she ditches your sorry ass.”

“Hey! I won’t do that. Just, ” Jungkook gulps, “I don’t know... We’ve met like, hardly a few times. It really doesn’t make sense. What if we’re not on the same page?”

Jimin frowns, and even Jin seems unhappy with his reasoning.

“Things don’t have to make sense. You’re two consenting adults. You like her. By the way she’s eyeing you right now, I’m sure the feeling is mutual. You said it’s easy to talk to her right?”

Jungkook pouts, but sees his point.

“Then go with that. Don’t chart out a plan, just go with your heart.” Jin adopts a soft smile of encouragement. 

“Meanwhile we will grab the others and exploit this coupon to the full extent!” Jimin gleefully appends.

Jungkook’s eyes crinkle as he laughs with the other two. They are right. Carpe diem, right?

Finding you again, his breath hitches. You look beautiful. The sleek black dress with silver embellishments over the torso. It hugs you in the right places, accentuating your already alluring frame. Your shoulders bare, elegant collarbones waiting to be tasted. Hair tied up, exposing the delicious curve of your neck, a stretch Jungkook wants to pepper kisses onto, without missing a spot. You look exquisite against the backdrop of the night.

Carpe noctem it is. 

“Did you really dress up to use the coupon?” The tongue-in-cheek query breaking your line of thought.

A breathy chuckle leaves your lips, hopefully masking the frenzy in your heart. 

“I had a party. A very dull party. Figured I preferred my own company over that.” 

“Do you prefer your own company over mine?”

He’s still standing, tall frame waiting for your permission to occupy the next seat. God, he looks amazing.

“Not at all.” The words leave huskier than you intend, but they convey the message.

He takes the seat, a mere step away, his cologne wafting over to your side. The alcohol buzz makes the scent feel stronger, every bone in you wanting to dive in nose-first. 

Apparently you have been staring, because he nervously chuckles “Why are you looking at me like that?”

Should you go the modest route or fuck it?

Fuck it.

“You look... great today,” is all you get out. Stupid brain spewing half-baked goods.

Understatement of the year. He looks like sin incarnate. All black attire highlighting his golden skin, the dichotomy of his whole look has you understandably tongue-tied. Black jeans - no rips, sadly- with a dark grey high-neck t-shirt, tucked in of course, because pain is the only constant for you. A black trench coat is thrown on top to seal the look. The obsidian outfit sends desperate need through your body, an intense desire to rip it all off surging through you. Somehow, through all these layers you can sense his fit body, his rippled muscles, his sturdy pecs, like they have an aura of their own. 

“Ah, thank you. You look amazing as well.” Halting a moment to sip his drink, he resumes.  “Sucks that you dressed up for nothing.”

“Well, you liked it. So it's not for nothing.”

If looks were potent, Jungkook’s own could set you on fire. Gaze coolly raking over your figure, the tick in his jaw betrays his reaction. A chill passes through every part of your body under his intense scrutiny.

“Are there other things you would wear… if I liked it?” He carefully treads.

“There are certain things I’m wearing right now that I’m sure you would appreciate.” 

If not for the shrinking distance between you two, you couldn’t have caught the low hiss. His animalistic need, usually kept well under control, is raging against its bonds, screaming to let go. Your exquisite gown, flowing down your curves, accentuating the swell of your ass - God save this dress from his feral hands. Against his will, he restrains himself. He would make this a lasting encounter. 

“How many drinks have you had?” He needs you to remember every single moment.

“Two glasses of wine, don’t worry. You?” 

“A shot of whisky, that’s all. Haven’t even finished my second drink.”

Gone were his cherubic appearance and dimpled smiles; the man in front of you is oozing pure sex appeal. His clenched jawline, furrowed brow, and perfectly placed tresses add to his raw masculinity. The cusp of your thighs is damp; if this is his effect here, what will it be behind locked doors? You wonder whether this is the same man that gushed about old-era video games in the flight. 

“Well, if you are wearing them for me, I’d be a fool to miss them.” he brings you back to the present. Twinkling eyes match your eager ones as you give a small nod.

Every step you take shoots a thrilling tingle through your spine. Every inch of distance closed forces you to close the next with doubled speed. Every foot forward adds to the thick air, laced with hunger, desire, and an inordinate amount of trust placed in the hands of a stranger. 

The first time you two walked back to the elevator, his move had caught you unaware. 

Now, the arm wraps around your entire waist, body flush against his, yet you yearn to get closer. 

Last time, you couldn’t match his gaze, skin burnt a crimson hue. 

Now, your eyes are locked together, any movement in your surroundings be damned.

Michael Jackson rising from the dead and performing Thriller wouldn’t tear you away from your current view (sorry MJ, maybe next time).

When the doors close, he places a palm on your bare back, bringing you to his chest.

“I’ve wanted this so bad, ever since I met you. It’s insane.”

The hand caressing your back makes you sigh. “Not if I wanted the same.”

His grip tightens. “The things I want to do to you...” eyes searching yours, ”tell me you can handle it.”

“Oh baby,” you drawl, “I’ll do whatever you want. Whatever it is,” your lips hover on his, “I can take it.”

The elevator doors opened too soon for your liking, and Jungkook drags you through the corridor. You’re practically hanging on to him, feet barely responsive, the faint buzz of wine making you giddy. His hawkish gaze soaks in everything you do, memorizing every response to his touch. 

You lean over to lay wet kisses on his neck. Pleasure searing through his veins, Jungkook’s knees almost buckle. He pushes you against a wall and locks you in with his form.

“Uh-uh-uh, honey,” he tsks, “you’re not making this easy on me?”

You pretend to ponder. “Well, I didn’t plan on making it easy.”

He smirks, all sex, and the wetness between your legs is making its presence known. Leaning into your ear, he whispers, “Unless you want me to have my way with you right here…” and all your brattiness dissipates. 

Satisfied, he grins. “Your place or mine?” 

“Hmmn, depends.”

He cocks a brow. “On?”

“Am I gonna be able to walk tomorrow?”

That damned smirk. “Your place it is.”

Jungkook’s lips are on yours the moment your door is locked. He cages you against its frame, teeth clashing and biting anything they find. You let your hands roam all over, searching for something to hold on to. A throaty sound leaves Jungkook when your digits card through his hair and tug on it, a sound you gladly swallow.

Time seems to have taken a break. Your thoughts are blank. You chase the kiss like it's the only thing you know, the only thing you’re born to do, your sole mission in life before you die. The bruising pace Jungkook set is eagerly matched by you. Gravity is slowly losing its meaning, and you’re nothing but a stray entity floating in space. And this kiss is your only source of air. 

Jungkook pulls you towards him, closing the nonexistent distance between you. Heat rises from his chest, the feeling is hypnotic beyond reason. A taste of you has ruined every other flavor. He kept his eyes half-open, sneaking peeks at your flushed face whenever you come for air. His fingers explored your body, grabbing your ass and pulling you into him. Your clothed crevice jolts at the friction, hips hounding for more.

The moan that leaves you gets muted, because Jungkook takes this opportunity to take control. Tongue forcing its way in to explore every corner of your mouth, it melds with your own muscle. If this were a dance, it would be a fierce tango, oozing with sexual tension. Breathing is now trivial, this kiss is imperative. 

Jungkook’s hands grab your hips and twirl you, both of you now facing a full-length mirror. You can witness your neckline being abused, mulberry blossoms left in place. The sight has your sex clenching, and lips liberated, you couldn’t stop yourself from mewling.

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m going to make you scream so loud, the hotel reception will hear you.”

With your head spinning in lust, you try to form your words right. “An- And what? Discuss how a second room for you was - oh god - was useless?” 

Jungkook pauses to admire his craft; your neck, shoulders, and collar are now littered with bruises, like a garden of hyacinth at his disposal. The view is maddening, your lusty gaze locked on to him in the mirror. His mane is tousled, no doubt your handiwork, and his hand is tracing the outline of your dress. 

“That cursed day,” He chokes out, “You were so fucking hard to resist you know?”

You turn back to face him, hand reaching back to undo your halter neck, “You have me now.” Stepping back, you let your gown fall.

He froze. You are standing in front of him, robed in only your black lace-embroidered strapless bra, and matching panties, each adorned with a white bow. The swell of your breasts barely caged in the cups, making Jungkook drool at sight. All the wind was knocked out of his lungs; you look like a prisoner’s last meal, waiting to be devoured. 

“On your knees.” he commands.  

Not a second is put to waste. You begin undressing him, unbuckling the pants and aggressively pulling them down. Next come the boxers, and you are faced with-

Wow.

You mean this in the nicest way, but, what a dick.

He is already hard, the mushroomed tip angry and red, leaking a drop of precum begging to be tasted. The girth exceeds your expectation, already visualizing the delicious visual of your cunt stretched thin. He is going to reach places even Vlad the Impaler couldn’t; you are already brimming with anticipation for the final act.

And his thighs. Nothing angelic about them. Taut. Muscular. Sinewy. Something uncivilized in you wants them to trap your frame between them, caging you, pinning you down. You press kisses on his inner thigh, letting your tongue poke out when you hear him exhale. A sharp bite shocks Jungkook, but you only smirk.

“Wanted to do that since I saw you.” 

The stare that meets you is practically challenging you to try that again, and perhaps reap some delicious consequences.

You bring yourself back, giving his cock the full attention that it deserves. Looking up, you see his half-lidded eyes, assertive and arresting, compelling you to go on. 

You bring your palm up to him. He raised a brow in question.

“Spit for me.”

Jungkook almost busts his load when he hears you. “Fuck, so dirty.” he garbles out. Rolling his neck in an attempt to divert his blood, he takes your hand and drops a thick glob at the center of your palm. 

A throaty moan arises from you, and his dick is harder than ever.

“Go on baby, show me you can suck dick like a champ.”

You give him a confident look; you’re about to rock his world. Starting with small licks, you tease the slit and taste the pre-cum lodged in it. Meanwhile, you work the spit along the shaft; you spit on it again, the original amount insufficient to cover the length. You can feel his dick twitching against your attention, eager to be sheathed. Interspersing with some long drags on the underside, you zero in on the pinched skin under the head. 

Jungkook is staring at your jerking him off. The sight of you, clad in lingerie is blowing his mind. If that was not enough, the mirror in front is providing a sumptuous secondary perspective. The smooth stretch of your back, the swell of your ass, the panty fabric barely able to cover the expanse, everything on you is making him short circuit. Seeing you on your knees, your deferential nature stirs something in him. If he doesn’t control himself, he will bend you in half and ride you to sunrise. He doesn’t want to scare you, but fuck, his depraved early man instincts are telling him otherwise. 

“What are you- ohhh, holy shi-”

Instead of slipping his cock fully into your mouth, you hold it up, and pay careful attention to his balls. Jungkook’s hands come to rest on your head, a telltale sign of his unraveling. With a smile, you let your tongue swipe through every nook and corner till they are coated in saliva.

“You think you’re such a fucking tease, ” He grabs you by your now unraveled tresses and pulls you back, “Ease up baby, your throat is in for a treat.”

In one quick swoop, he lodges himself at the base of your throat, provoking your gag reflex, but you restrain the urge to pull back. Breathing through your nose, you suck and swallow whatever you can; his girth isn't giving you much to work with.

Jungkook growls. “Such a tight fit. Like you’re meant to be like this. Forever.”

The last word slips out unwittingly. 

Alarmed, his eyes flit down to gauge your response, but all you are doing is looking back at him. 

Fuck, your dovelike eyes are captivating. They look so angelic, a complete contrast to the perverse posture you are in. Not an ounce of displeasure in response to his words. Pure, unadulterated affection for him. Only for him. 

“God, you’re going to be the death of me.” Jungkook husks. “You’ll do anything for me, you said?”

Muffled whimpers impart your compliance, and you bob your head up and down for good measure. The tip of his cock hits every ridge of your throat, the vibration releasing more fluid down.

“Pleasure yourself, baby. Touch yourself, but don’t you cum.”

Your brow distresses further, a disgruntled whine leaving you and reverberating around him. Already so turned on, the lightest friction would make you combust.

Jungkook’s teeth clench. “Edge yourself for me, sweetie.” 

It's like your body is tuned to his command. Slipping two fingers under the band, you part and slide them on either side of your throbbing nub. Despite you avoiding any pressure point that might push you over the edge, the pleasure threatens to tip you over. 

You look over for his approval. Swallowing, he nods. Your self-stimulation is making him dizzy. It's time to get serious.

“Such a good girl. Don’t stop, okay? I’m going to fuck your throat raw.” Starting with mellow jerks, “Hope you don’t have to speak anytime tomorrow.” he rasps.

The carpeted floor grazing your knees only adds to the revelry. You’re not in control of yourself anymore. The back of your gullet is aching as Jungkook shoves into you again and again. An amalgamation of his salty juices and your dribble lewdly coats your chin and neck; you must look ravished. Everything with Jungkook feels augmented; every single motion of his making your sex clench. 

He is close - you can feel his grip on your hair tightening. 

“Can I cum on you?” words slither through his clamped teeth. You frantically nod. 

With a loud grunt, he pulls you off and releases all over your chest, a stray pump landing on your chin. Thick liquid, dripping from your jaw onto your collarbones and breasts, the whole scene is filthy good. Your unfilled cunt is aching to be replete with the cum. 

Post-orgasmic glow is dazzling on him--hair drenched in sweat, tufts sticking to his forehead. His breathing is heavy and resonant as dilated pupils take in your soaked state. Bending down, he crooks a finger under your chin, anchoring his attention on your dewy stare. The onyx embers in his eyes bore into yours, studying for any hesitation in them. A microscopic moment of tenderness, unspoken words exchange between you. 

Satisfied to find only searing hunger, his digits collect the beads of cum on your jaw, pushing them back into your mouth. Your eyes roll skyward, relishing the briny taste, nearly asking him to do it again. Leaning further, he grabs the wrist of your hand that is thoughtlessly rubbing your sex - you didn’t even realize you were still doing it. You feel drained, like you orgasmed vicariously through him. 

“My turn.” He wears a devilish expression on his archangel eyes.

Lips connect once again as he pulls you up. If he tastes himself, he is relishing it, with his tongue exploring the deep cavern. With wobbly ankles, you let him guide you to your bed, dropping on your back. He follows you, pouncing on you, plunging into your mouth again like a beast hungered. Bodies melting together like an icicle under the summer blaze, your hands hunt to frisk his skin. Realizing he is yet to undress, you yank at this t-shirt, attempting to liberate him from the offending fabric.

“Tsk, greedy.” he bit your ear, soothing the sting with a kiss. 

“Cruel is what it is.” You huff, like everything he’s doing is not a blissful affair. 

How do men do that? Violently ripping their shirt off and leaving a messy mop of hair in its wake, nevertheless looking like they could walk a runway the next instant. Jungkook was no exception. The moment he pulls his shirt off, you are rendered speechless.

Chiseled chest like the work of an artisan. Droplets of sweat race down the paths traced by the sculpted abs, an intense desire to taste them forming in you. He is a mesomorphic dream who puts Greek gods to shame. Swallowing, you let your hand trace the outline of his pecks, feeling him shudder against your touch.

“Jungkook, please.”

Who was he to deny you?

Leaning up to you with a wicked smirk, Jungkook drops a thick line of spit right on your hardened nipple. The concoction of his cum and spit soaks through the lacy material. A lone finger circles, avoiding the spot that requires the most attention. You arch your back, begging him for more, just more of anything. The wet fabric amplifies the emptiness in your cunt. 

“Aww,” he coos, clearly amused by your neediness, “undo this for me, sweetness. Let me see you.”

Moving at lightning speed, you unhook the bra, swinging it away to a corner of the room. 

“Oh no.” He mock-frowns, veins bulging on his arm as he controls himself. “Look at these tits, fuck.” Mind reeling with ideas, filthy ideas, of all the things he wants to do to you. “You’ve ruined everything else for me.”

You tremble. “Good, so have you. Want you for myself. Want you,” pulling him close, “to do your worst.” you end with a whisper.

Jungkook’s jaw tightens. “Careful what you ask for,” he grits before diving headfirst into your bosom. 

He licks and laves and bites and laps--your breasts are on fire. Continuing his marking spree, new blemishes make an appearance on your torso. Nibbling on one nipple, he pinches the other; pulling moan after moan from you. 

Your hips barely touch the bed, bucking up in response to Jungkook’s sinking teeth into your ample bust. He has decided to not leave an inch without his saliva, and like a man on a mission, covers every part with rapt attention. 

“Yo- You don’t have to--oh holy fuck--you don’t have to, cover me in marks you kno--ohh my go-” The sentence is spastic, piercing mewls breaking your flow of speech and thought. 

“These fucking tits,” roughly clasping your pert breast in his large palm, “they look so much better like this.” The proud smile he shows has not the slightest hint of regret. 

Catching a break, he twiddles your nipples, letting his other hand sit on your covered sex. He is teasing you; you recognize that. Just giving you opportunities to disobey, to take all the pain he has to offer.

It’s a good thing you like the pain.

You slowly roll your hips, trying to grind against his palm, taking whatever help you can get.

A sharp smack lands on your clit, shooting your eyes open - you don’t even know when they closed. Jungkook’s hand is soothing the site of the blow, the pain converting to pleasure under his touch. 

“Patience, sweetness,” the gravely whisper sending tingles down your spine, “such a good girl for me.”

You give him a slight nod - he smacks you again, once, twice, thrice, without a break. Your entrance is smarting, but you want to give him everything. Biting your lips to stop the labored moans escaping, you clench your eyes and savor the burn.

Your show of obedience has Jungkook’s heart thronging. Fuck, he was enjoying toying with you. Playing you like a fiddle. You produce every tone he desires in the form of wanton melodies, he wants to play them over and over again like his favorite song.

“How are we doing?” he asks, a shit-eating grin plastered on him. Before you could answer, his fingers shallowly enter your soaked pussy, still hampered by the cloth. 

“You- fuck, you said I was the tease here?” Your hands are at his wrist, begging to pull the scrap of cloth aside and have his way. 

He comes to face your sopping mound, pausing only to speak “Never said I wasn’t,” and starts pressing soft, feathery kisses. “That day, seeing you dripping in that towel, I dreamt of having these legs around me.”

“I swear, at least take it off - oh Jungkoo-”

Without warning, he kneads your ass and pushes you into his face. 

You feel like you’ve been on the edge for hours. The suckle on your engorged clit along with the abrasion of the lace gets you so close. So damn close. So, so clo-

The tightness in your belly finally snaps and you howl, gushing your vat of arousal onto his face. The high was more intense than you had imagined, so high that you wonder if you will ever find your way back to reality. You feel like a rock in space, aimlessly floating in the vast nothingness.

You dimly notice Jungkook toying with the lacy hem of your panties, pulling it back to snap it against your hip. The sting is soon forgotten, along with your panties flung across the bed, as he parks himself back between your legs.

“You smell incredible.” He approves, taking a long whiff of your honeyed center. “Look at you, so messy.” He licks a long stripe along your crease. “Messy girl, I should clean you up.”

“Wait Jungkook-” you oppose, lids heaving in pleasure. “I need you inside me, please. I can’t take -oof”

Gnawing at your sodden folds, he let his nose press against your clit. “You’re so fucking tight, you think you can take me?” He shakes his head. “Gotta stretch you out, gotta make me fit.” He presses his tongue against your nub, feeling it throb in anticipation. “And I think you can give me one more.” He ends, before invading your drenched channel with two fingers. You are putting up with his torments the best you can; walls fluttering against his lips, legs entwined behind Jungkook’s back trapping him between your thighs. 

“Ah! God - I, I can’t-” Your eyes are screwed shut, hands bunching the sheets in your grasp.

His fingers fluctuate between scissoring motions, their lengths opening you up for him and curling inside, fingertips finding the rough patch inside. He adds a third finger, pussy straining to accommodate them all. Your thighs clench in the burn, and he groans into your pussy at the pressure. Increasing the pace, he pumps into you harder and faster, sucking your puffy lips in tandem. 

“Please, please, harder - let me cum - please oh go-” 

“Fuck yeah baby, your pussy is just sucking me in. You like that? You like me shoving into your cunt?”

“Uungh yes yes I love it!”

“Doesn’t it hurt? Or are you such a slut for pain? Tell me, tell me you’re a pain slut.”

“Fuck, Jungkook, don’t you stop- I am! I am a pain slut! Your pain slut!”

“Goood girrrll,” he husks out. Even though he is taking charge, your words are what control him. “Only mine. My pain slut will come for me now.”

A spray of cum ejects out of you, coating Jungkook’s chest and inundating your legs. The coherent part in you recognizes that you just squirted, but the neanderthal side shuts all recognition of anything that is not Jungkook’s cock. Even after two climaxes, you are hungry to get more. More of him. 

If you don’t fuck him now, you will lose your capability to reason. 

Limbs still heavy and reeling from the ravaging, you pick your pieces and drag Jungkook to the headboard. 

“I’m going to ride you.” you declare and straddle him. 

Jungkook is staring fixedly at your still-leaking cunt. Running his tongue over his lower lip, and licking the remnant syrup of your release. You position yourself, letting the drippage fall directly on his erection. He twitches, eyes still feasting on the mess you are making. 

Finding purchase on his shoulders, you lower yourself. Jungkook’s breath staggers as you drag your inner lips along his hard shaft. You repeat this motion till your fluids drip to his balls. 

“Y/N, I swear to God, if you don’t stop with this-”

“You’ll do what?” you challenge, an eyebrow raised in response to his threat. 

He grabs you by your waist, jerking you up before bringing you down on his dick. Your cunt, creamy from his earlier ministrations, gives no resistance to his hardness. His cock twitches inside as you bottom out. Pulling you closer, he bites your lip and tugs at it. 

“I’ll do this.”

A sharp spank makes you clench around him, the supple flesh of your ass ricocheting in response. 

“Go on baby, ride me.” 

The low-grained command sets you in motion. Slowly gyrating your hips, you feel every ridge of this length inside. Jungkook’s grip on your waist tightens, and you’re sure you will see evidence of it tomorrow. Your grasp on his shoulders isn’t faring any better. 

“You’re so tight, fuck, and so wet. Who made you like this, huh?” A second spank punctuating his question.

“Oh God, you-”, you barely manage to recognize your own voice, “You, Jungkook! Only you!” 

“That’s fucking right, only me.” 

Hips snapping, he meets you halfway. Both of you are lost in each other, lewd sounds of your skin slapping and juices quelching barely muffled by your desperate whines and moans of passion. Eyes locked in like magnets, neither of you could look away. 

Jungkook pulls back a little, slapping your jiggling tit. Your sex clenches, and the following slap has you lodging yourself in the crook of his neck, searching for a reprieve. 

“Want some help?”

One swift move and you are on your stomach, face pushed into a pillow, and ass out. A final spank lands right in the middle, and you can feel it pulsate everywhere. He pushes back into your glistening core, taking control of your pleasure and pain. One hand carding through the nape of your neck, pushing you down, the other hand grabbing your waist and setting the pace. The new angle hits deeper, you feel so full. 

“Jungkoo--unghh I need to cum! Need to- umph- cum so bad!” You are wailing at this point, shame lying somewhere near your flung clothes.

“Fuck, babe, me too. Go ahead and play with yourself, nice and slow.”

It takes a few swipes for the tightness in you to detonate. Tears flood your face as you unravel, your orgasm crashing into you like waves of a tsunami. You clench tight, wetness flows out of your hole as Jungkook pumps in and out, chasing his high. 

He comes undone soon after, ropes of his ejaculate filling your insides. He stays in, plugging you as if to not allow any of it out. But as his member softens, he gives in, turning you on your back to meet his face. 

Butterfly-soft kisses are exchanged after the blazing encounter. He asks you if you’re okay between breaths, a tender murmur you almost miss, as if you weren’t screaming your lungs out moments ago. Nuzzling into his neck, you confirm.

A snort disrupts the silence. Looking up, you see Jungkook chuckling.

In response to your cocked eyebrow, he says “Want to talk about what a freak you are?”

“Want to talk about what a hypocrite you are?”

“Hey, you asked me to spit on you!”

You mock-gasp, hand on chest for the extra effect. “My breasts need medical attention after your attention! Freak!” 

Laughter echoes in the room as you two tumble in the blankets, and you feel his release seeping out of you. Turning to him, you pout, “Your mess is leaking out of me.” 

Jungkook gets up to leave the bed, and you expect a wet towel coming your way. 

What you don’t expect is him parting your legs, gunmetal eyes following the rivulets escaping your abused hole. 

“Your cunt smells so good with my cum on it,” he purrs. 

He gathers the escaping thick liquid and pushes it back into your quivering core. 

Jolting with oversensitivity, you try to stall him but he is fingering you with a vengeance. The ache and soreness soon dispel, bringing forth a new wave of ecstasy. His unrelenting stare concentrates on the mix of fluids on his fingers. With a few strokes on your sensitive bundle of nerves and fingers stuffed inside, you come again, legs shivering and pussy overflowing, his juices intermingled with yours. 

You are dazed; you’ve lost track of everything. The room is spinning in front of you and your body feels like lead. All you can manage is to arch your neck, and plead, “No more, you freak.” 

Jungkook giggles, eyes crinkling in good humor. Ah, the duality of this man is a force to reckon with. You can’t believe this is the same man that fucked you into your bed like a primordial beast. There’s no way you can move anytime soon. 

After a clean-up interval, you are wrapped in each other's arms, melting into the embrace. His musky fragrance putting you at ease, you tuck your in the nook of his neck, basking in the aroma. Hands pressed against his broad chest, exuding warmth for you. His hand cradles your head, snuggling in closer till there is no space to cover. Sweet nothings whispered into each other’s lips, tender kisses exchanged in place of the scorching ones that had passed. You drift in and out of your slumber, fearing the sun would ascend too soon and break you apart. 

A dim glow from the other end of the bed wakes you up. On turning you find Jungkook, dressed in his now-wrinkled clothes, seated on the edge. His gaze, pensive. You lay a hand on his thigh.

“Oh, did the light wake you?”

The alarm on his face makes you smile. “No, your absence did.” 

The corners of his mouth turned up, eyeing you with softness. 

“I have an early schedule. I didn’t want to wake you, but, ” he lets his palm rest on yours, “I also didn’t want to leave without it.”

Neither of you know how to walk away from this. The silence is deafening, unuttered sentiments hanging in the still air. Jungkook’s chest is heavy. 

This is insane. He wants to lay you against a bed of flowers, treat you like the delicate petal you bear resemblance to, worship your body till the sun succumbs to your blazing passion. How is he to explain that his heart is beating through his chest for someone he knows for mere days? He rifles through his memories for a similar instance. 

He finds none. 

Maybe you don’t feel the same way. Maybe, you are blissfully unaware of the tumultuous emotions lurching in the pit of his belly. He can’t assume you will echo his lovesick needs, but he can’t let go. 

You inch closer. 

Fervid feelings die hard. He probes your eyes searching for an intensity matching his. 

You let your lips convey the answer.

Passionate as ever, you draw him into the kiss. His lashes flutter against your rosy cheeks. At the moment, there is no dominance in him. Almost like his tongue, dragging across your swollen lips, is healing the brutality of last night. If you pull back, he comes after you; an incessant tug of war no player wants to win. 

“Please Jungkook,” you choke between kisses, “Please tell me this isn’t the last of us.”

He is hovering on top of you, the galaxy in his eyes twinkling at your words. 

“Please, I don’t want this to end.” You continue against his lips. Head versus heart, you fought a losing battle; how were you to stall the inevitable? Fueled, you plunge your tongue into him, determined to make your ardor known. The void of ferocity is filled with slow sensuality; like he is the sole reservoir to quench your thirst. 

“Y/N”, he breathes out, “I feel like I know everything about you and nothing about you at the same time.” Resting your foreheads against one another, he continues. “I’m not about to let fate decide when we cross paths again.”

A grin finds your lips. “Destiny really pulled its weight here, didn’t it?”

He wordlessly nods, not wanting to break the tranquility in place. However, it is short-lived; his phone’s ringer makes sure of it. 

“Yeah, I’ll be right down.” Something the speaker says turns Jungkook scarlet red. “I said I’ll be right there!” he yells before ending the call.

“The members are asking why I wasn’t in my room.” he clarifies, waggling his brows.  You join his laughter, happy to have just the simple moment with him. 

After exchanging numbers (and a photo for keepsake), Jungkook presses one last kiss, lips promising to find each other again. Somehow, you don’t say goodbye. You just stare at his disappearing body, confident that the next encounter is not far. 

Jake is babbling about his night, how he managed to ditch the god-awful party and hang out with some overenthusiastic college-goers who paid for his drinks with their trust fund dough. This is usually the time you ask him if he’s proud of mooching off of children, but today his exaggerated narrative is cracking you up. 

His forehead creases. “What’s up with you today? You haven’t vowed to skin me alive even once.”

“You like it when I threaten bodily harm?”

“I’m kinky like that.”

You just shrug. Erotic images make a fleeting appearance in your mind, but they are interrupted by your flight announcement. 

“Aren’t you glad this is over? You can go back to overworking yourself in your office instead of a hotel!” Jake remarks, throwing his bag over his shoulder. “At least your back won’t break in the travel.”

Thinking over your experience in the city, you confess “Actually, I look forward to returning here.”

A thought slips in, curving your mouth into a smile. You quietly add,

“And yeah, my back was broken all right.”

Thank you for making it to the end! Please do let me know what you think!

[battlemastercoffeeco]

All my kisses for that monster/ball and chain fusion, mwah mwah, it was incredible 🤩😘

Would you be interested in musing a little on Boba's amalgamate lizard and/or Cobb's desert spirit form, too?

Does Boba's form change how he holds court and deals with his Trandoshan guests (cousins? Nothing in relation?) ?

Does Cobb visit them in his non-human shape first and have to be teased into taking form?

Feel free to take or leave what interests you to talk about.

you. you have made me write a Monster. do you have any idea how much drama my brain is packing into these mini prompts? help. give me.....several more hours? and fic should be forthcoming lol

EDIT: as expected, this is full of Way More Drama than your ask had any right to invoke. I'm not sorry. I still need to think more abt amalgamate lizardman Boba tho, that didn't come out as much or well as I'd hoped 🤔 😅

and now: fic, as promised

Sometimes, when Boba Fett smiles, it is with too many teeth.

It's a common thing to hear, often said of predators, hunters, creatures built for violence. When said about Boba Fett, no one shares that they think, maybe, it's more fact than metaphor.

When Boba Fett smiles, it is too wide with too many teeth. His tongue, when it peeks out, is wrong for a man who is supposed to be human, though no one is quite sure how they know this. His bare face is unsettling in a way his faceless, expressionless helmet isn't.

It's the first time Cobb Vanth has been to the palace since Mando took up residence there alongside Fett and his people.

He's in the middle of negotions with the new warlord when his friend enter the room, following behind Fett's right hand--Shand, he thinks her name is.

And then he sees it.

Hanging from the woman's hand is a chain, silver and clinking with each step. From her hand, a low-sweeping arc, up to--

If anyone were watching, if they weren't looking or more desperately not looking at the Mandalorian, they might have seen it. As it is, Fett sees none of it, smiling a bit too wide as the pair climb the dais, coming to a stop beside the throne.

(Shand sees everything, they say, and they aren't entirely wrong. She was looking, she saw the way for a split second--just a moment--Vanth's skin seemed to ripple, shimmer, shift. But her attention must be on the business, on helping Fett as they fill the power vacuum and institute changes, and soon enough Fennec forgets she saw anything at all.)

"THE KRIFF DID YOU COME FROM?!" Fennec almost screeches, fighting desperately against the instinct to bare her teeth and hiss.

Boba's hand on her wrist is the only thing that kept her from sliding off the domed roof in her surprise.

"Wondered where you went every morning," is the cheeky bastard's not-answer. Fennec could tear his throat out with her teeth.

"Sunsrise," she spits, flicking her hand out of his grip when she regains her previous position closer to the dome's almost-flat center. "How did you even get up here? The door creaks like a nexu is heat."

Boba has a small smile, like some kind of private joke rather than the predator's grin he's known for. "I climbed."

Fennec wants to call banthashite, because she would have noticed--but she knows he'll just get cagey. It's fine. She has her own secrets.

(For the next three weeks, she tries to work out how he got to the roof without her notice. there's no evidence of climbing gear anywhere, and she can't find any other doors that offer access to that dome that she wouldn't have heard or seen him coming from. She has a passing, ridiculous thought that maybe he has some kind of lizard-hands claiming gear, like how veractyl hands are designed for scaling upright surfaces. She snorts at the image the thought conjures: Boba, with a burnished brown-orange feathered crest and a kaleesh-like bone mask.)

It's evening, and Cobb hasn't had a chance to talk to Mando yet. Court is coming to an end. All day, no one has said anything about the chain leading to the man's lap, where the open fly of his flight suit does little to hide the chain that clinks lightly against the tunnel plug spreading pink folds wide.

Fett has outlawed the sorrowtrade. Where his influence stretches, at least. He enforces that decree, as well, and has shot slavers looking to do business with him, if rumors are to be believed.

Cobb doesn't know why Mando, why anyone, would subject themselves to what he has seen today in Fett's court, but he also doesn't take Fett for a hypocrite; Mando must have chosen this. Probably.

By the bar, Fett and Shand are going over something with a pair of guards. Mando's chain is still looped through an anchor point on the throne. He's is settled on a large cushion on the dais that seems purpose-made to allow a fully-armored being to sit comfortably at the foot of the throne like a prized pet.

Cobb is about to go talk to him, has finally found the right words to ask without causing a scene, when Fett moves back to the dais, taking up the chain.

He watches as Fett looks down at the black visor looking up at him, fingers softly tipping the silver chin up, and it makes Cobb... consider. Details are important.

He watches as Mando is helped to his feet with broad hands that hold not cruelty, but rather fondness and care. Once standing, Mando tips forward, leaning in to press his silver brow to Fett's forehead; Cobb looks away, because even he can recognize the tender affection in the motion. It soothes him, some. It's not exactly what it looks like, can't be, with the way Mando leans into Fett and Shand. The way Mando is armored and armed, the easy way he shot the pirate who tried to draw on Fett hours ago.

Still, he's going to keep an eye on things.

It's his purpose, after all.

Boba Fett is haunted.

It's not the ghost of his buir following him, not any of the millions of vode he still can't bring himself to fully acknowledge as aliit.

Boba Fett is haunted by Tattooine.

Since the day he dragged his own carcass from the sarlacc, Boba has seen them: the desert spirits, creatures or beings of Tattooine's folklore.

The lone anooba atop the cliff or across the sands. He knows they watch him, feels the indifferent judgment of their eyes heavy on his back.

The canyon krayts, rumbles echoing through caves and valleys, a test of conviction. A warning.

The razorback at the oasis, snuffling for ground nuts and black melons, so clearly unthreatened. It harbors no fear of the hunter it shares the thirst-quenching peace with.

The wind and sands, chasing him through the wastes, into towns, on the Sand Road, across the Dune Sea. It glitters like blades as it dances and whirls around him wherever he goes that is Tattooine in truth, but will not follow into the settler-made, tumorous blights.

One night, after a bad day ending in a painkiller-induced fugue but before he pours himself into the bacta tank, Boba tells Fennec. She laughs, at first; it's a funny thing, a dead man haunted by the planet that arguably killed him. She stops laughing when she looks at his face again. The tired lines, the deep furrows of age and scars both, the flush under the sallow palor brought by pain; this is not a joke or metaphor.

Quietly wordless, she reaches out and takes his hand. Delicate, because she doesn't want him to recoil; they're both still getting used to...whatever they're becoming.

Fennec is always too cool to be real, Boba thinks idly, as her hand carefully wraps around his own. She's like a fever dream, almost, always just a bit chilled it a way that should be impossible on this planet. Occasionally he entertains the idea that she is part of it--that the body he pulled from the sands was an empty vessel the desert poured a bit of itself into, all the better to shadow his every step.

(He knows better, now. Fennec still carries inexplicable details, rituals and habits and preferences and traits and shadows he doesn't understand, but it's different from the way Tattooine haunts him. She is his living shadow these days, an inextricable part of himself in a way that is different from the way the sands of Tattooine have become part of him, too.)

It's late. Boba needs to get in the tank now if he's going to be of any use tomorrow. He's reluctant to let go of Fennec's hand, though. As if her presence might keep the unknown at bay.

"I don't know what it wants," he says, quiet, ragged and rasping and so very, very lost.

Fennec's hand tightens; the bones of their joined hands grind.

When the dust finally settled and the palace is no longer filled with the sounds or war and siege, they allow themselves to finally pull back from their adrenaline-fed instincts.

Paz's armor is carbon-scored and there are deep, oozing, bubbling-burnt patches of tar where blaster fire got past plating. There's a few small puddles of the stuff strewn around the room, dribbling down walls, dripping from the arched ceiling.

Green and red blood and viscera paint the lower half of Fennec's face, draping her chest like macabre jewelry. She has gloves to match, and her edges seem to melt like shadows and mirages. It's difficult to tell how much of the gore is her own.

Boba is missing an arm. He's less than bothered by it. There's blood around his mouth, too, though not as much as Fennec wears. He's grinning too wide, again, still high on the violence.

Din, carbon-scored and bruised and maybe some sprains but little else, is the first to ask.

"Where's Cobb?"

It's an expected level of concern at first. Of course Cobb would retreat, run, hide; he was the one holding a baby.

It slowly spirals to outright panic as a half hour passes, an hour, two. The palace is large, but it's becoming more and more likely that Cobb didn't hide: he and their baby must have been taken.

Boba's stump-arm has grown a few fresh inches of skin, the end sealed over with blood-dirty scaled skin. He's recalled his mates from their search of the palace's many nooks, cranies, and depths. Paz returns from below moments after Fennec steps out of a shadowed corner to fall in step with Boba. Din is in the lead, already settled in the hunter's mindset, focused on tracking, looking for the details and mistakes.

They take precious moments to detour to their personal armory; the palace guard and Boba's hunters are all on alert, searching and locking down the premises.

None of them notice the glint of light off grains of sand swirling in the air. Not until--

"The den--!" It could have been any of them. Regardless, they all storm their own suite, take up defensive positions, ready for another fight.

The gossamer curtains on their one enormous window dance. The barely-there flame on Paz's incense, always burning, gutters out, the light smoke picked up and dispersed.

And as the four heart-sore warriors watch in confusion, the localized sandstorm coalesce into a lanky man in a red tunic, a small, armor-wrapled bundle cradled safely in his arms.

"Reckon it's safe now?" Cobb asks, grin crooked even as his eyes dart over his partners' shock-still forms.

(also Cobb is a full-on shapeshifter aight he doesn't show of his skills here but we can have like. krayt dragon!Cobb fucking din bc I say so🤩🥵💦)

[fanficimagery]

Talking to the Dead

Imagine your sister calling in a favor, only to find out said favor is for the vampire sheriff of Louisiana.

Words: 6.3K Author's Note: I am not Bill's biggest fan, nor am I Eric/Sookie's biggest fan either. That said, this takes place AFTER all damn drama with King Bill. Eric still runs Fangtasia alongside Pam and Sookie still works under Sam at Merlotte's. They're friends. That's it.

Eric sits behind his desk, the bottom half of his face covered in blood as Pam files her nails. She had been going through Fangtasia's books when she realized the money wasn't adding up and that some of their product was missing. So when Tara brought forward those responsible in making sure Fangtasia was up to date with their taxes and everything, Eric called in a favor from Sookie to get a read on them. Only Eric lost his temper and killed the two men, leaving thousands of his money stashed somewhere only the dead knew of now.

The office door opens and Sookie stumbles inside, still in her Merlotte's uniform. She takes one look at Eric and sighs. "Did you have to kill them? I just wasted a trip out here, Eric Northman."

"How tragic," he deadpans. "You wasted about five dollars in gas, meanwhile I'm still out of thousands, Miss Stackhouse."

"Don't you take that tone with me, Mister!"

Pam snorts. "Shame your little fae powers don't allow you to speak to the dead," she drawls. "That would really come in handy right about now." Sookie opens her mouth to defend her still untrained powers, only to pause and snap her mouth shut. Immediately that catches both vampires' attention and Pam leans forward, interest piqued. "Have you been holding out on us, Tinkerbell?"

"No." Sookie scoffs, suddenly overcome with wariness. "But I, uh, I might know someone who-"

"No." Eric cuts her off. "No witches."

"She's not a witch," Sookie says. "Y/N is, um, she's my sister."

Eric freezes before he leans forward in his chair. "There's a third Stackhouse? How come we never learned of this?"

Sookie sighs and drops onto the couch. She shrugs. "Y/N's powers manifested a lot earlier than mine did and they.. well it drove her crazy. She was in and out of the hospital, and the death of our parents didn't do her any favors. She started rebelling at seventeen and drank herself into oblivion. Constantly."

Pam hums. "Sounds like my kind of girl."

Sookie frowns at her before looking back at Eric. "She's actually due for a visit tomorrow. I'll bring her by."

"How are you so sure she'll do this for us? If I recall correctly, you did not come peacefully," Eric muses.

Sookie rolls her eyes. "Y/N is a free spirit. If I hadn't told you she was my sister, you wouldn't have known we were twins."

"Twins?" Eric seems to perk up, eyes lighting up, and this time it's Pam's turn to roll her eyes.

Sookie scoffs. "Don't be gross. We'll be by after my shift tomorrow."

Finding an Uber into Bon Temps after the sun had set was almost impossible, but fortunately you found someone who was willing to make the trip. You knew Louisiana had become a vampire hotspot, but you didn't know people had found traveling in the state quite so fearsome.

You don't have much on you, with the exception of a small suitcase holding a few change of clothes, so you opt to be dropped off at Merlotte's rather than your childhood home. And upon exiting the car after making sure your payment went through, you grab your suitcase by the handle and walk towards the entrance. A few whispers attempt to reach out to you, but you shake off the echoes of death and march on.

There's only a handful of locals inside Merlotte's, but the no-good nosy folk still all stop to see who's entering their local establishment. Inside, the whispers get louder, but you reign in your control and shake your head clear. What the hell happened here that there are so many echoes?

"Do my eyes deceive me or is that my favorite Stackhouse?"

You're already grinning as you find the source of the comment, grin widening as Sam's familiar handsome self makes his way towards you. "Come on, Sam. We all know who your favorite Stackhouse really is?"

He laughs as he opens his arms for a hug and you drop your suitcase to step into his embrace. "Jason's bragging again, isn't he?"

You huff a laugh and pinch his side, the two of you not speaking of all the years he spent pining after your sister. "So where is my twin?" You ask as you pull back and roll your eyes when Sam readily picks up your suitcase.

You follow him to the bar as he says, "She's taking a call in the back. Want me to let her know you're here?"

"Nah, but can you put in an order for me? I miss Lafayette's burgers."

"Sure thing, chère. What do you want?"

"Cheeseburger with everything, cut the onions. Extra ketchup. Fries. And whatever beer you have on tap."

Sam chuckles as he's already pouring your beer. "So the usual." You grin as he slides your glass across the bar. "I'll be back."

Taking a seat on the stool there at the bar, you grab your glass and sip at the ice cold beer. It feels so good sliding down your throat that the sip turns into a gulp, and before you know it half the glass is gone. Needing a breath, you set the glass down and inhale deeply. As you exhale, you burp, and then take a moment to stretch in your seat while glancing around. A few people are still staring and murmuring far too low to their companions for you to hear, so instead you raise an eyebrow at them- challenging them to say their opinion out loud. None of them do and you scoff an amused laugh before drinking the rest of your beer.

Sam reappears. "Long flight?" He takes your glass and refills it.

"Flight was fine. It's the people of Bon Temps who annoy the shit out of me." Sam frowns, but you shrug off his concern as he quickly glances around at those in his establishment. You're well aware of what everyone thinks of you and Sookie thanks to Sookie's abilities, and you're grateful you didn't quite get the same ability as her. If you had to hear every living being's thoughts on top of the dead's, you'd have permanently committed yourself long ago.

"Well I talked to your sister in the back. She said she'll be right out."

"That's fine." Accepting your second glass of beer, you smile gratefully at Sam before taking another drink.

"Girl, I knows you ain't tryin' to eat my food without saying hello."

You turn on your stool, one knee crossed over the other as you beam at the cook. "Lafayette!" He approaches with your plated cheeseburger and a basket of fries, setting them in front of you before pulling you into a hug. "I wouldn't have left without saying hello. I just wanted my food first."

"'Course you did," he muses. "How long you here for, little Stackhouse?"

"Um, I'm kind of between jobs at the moment," you sheepishly admit. You quickly grab a fry and pop it into your mouth. "I'll probably stick around until I can find something or Sookie kicks me out."

Lafayette swats you with his dish towel. "You know damn well Sook won't kick you out. That sister of yours misses you lots. She's been talkin' nonstop about your visit."

"If you need a job, chère, I'll be happy to give you one."

You pop another fry into your mouth, grinning over at Sam. "Lord knows you can barely handle one Stackhouse, Sam. No way in hell you can two- three if Jason is around as much as I'm assuming." Sam opens his mouth to retort, but a shriek cuts him off. It's Sookie and she barrels right into your side. "Jesus Sook," you laugh. "Warn a girl."

As you and Sookie quickly catch up (she's all for you staying as long as you need), more patrons enter Merlotte's and Lafayette's forced back into the kitchen. Jason and his best friend Hoyt walk in, so you walk over to join them as Sookie gets back to work also.

Jason is glad Sookie won't be in the house all on her own since he has his own place and Hoyt is just glad to see all the Stackhouses together once again. You finish your cheeseburger and fries there at the table with them, along with three glasses of beer and two shots courtesy of your brother who wanted to properly celebrate your homecoming.

Jason and Hoyt leave, you waving them off when they asked if you wanted a ride home. Sookie's shift is just about over and you remember her asking if you could wait for her because she wanted to take you someplace. So when Sookie comes out from the back to collect you from the bar, you're slightly swaying on your stool as you grin at her.

"Are you drunk?" She incredulously asks. "Y/N, I need you level headed."

"Ooohhh," you coo and reach out to bop her on the nose. "And just what do I need to be level headed for, sis?"

"Can you walk?" She asks instead. You laugh and nod, hopping off the stool and giving yourself a moment to make sure the room isn't tilting. She sighs. "That's good enough for me. Come on. A friend of mine needs a favor." She walks behind the bar to collect your suitcase and a bottle of water from the small refrigerator under the bar. "Bye, Sam! See you later!" She then calls out as she leads you down a hall. You hear Sam's muffled reply from one door in particular and then Sookie's leading you out the back exit and towards her car.

Outside she opens the passenger door to her small yellow Honda Civic that looks newer than the last time you saw it, and tosses your suitcase in the backseat. She pushes you down onto the passenger seat and holds the water bottle out to you. "Drink."

You take the bottle without a word, twist off the cap, and start to guzzle the water as she shuts the door and walks around the car to the driver's side door. You only get half of it down before needing to breathe. "What.. am I.. guzzling water for?" You ask in between breaths.

As Sookie starts up her car, she casts a wary glance your way before looking back to where she's driving. "Shreveport. We're going to Fangtasia. The owner of the bar needs you to listen to some echoes."

"Fangstasia?" Your brow furrows as you try to wrack your brain about why that sounds so familiar. A moment later, however, the answer comes to you and you groan. "First off, I can overlook the vampire bar. What I can't overlook is that of all people to tell our secret to, you chose vampires. Vampires! Do you know we're like crack to them?"

"I'm sorry, okay! I got involved with them a while back, which is a mistake that I can admit now, but Eric actually tried helping me in his own way. Somewhat. We've become friends."

"Sookie." You groan again. Your sister pouts and you decide to keep quiet, sipping on your water and wishing it were something stronger. "So what does this Eric know about me listening to echoes?"

"Nothing really," she says. "I know how you like your privacy, so last night was the first time I mentioned that I even had a sister." You grin, not hurt at all by her not mentioning you to others. "I just said that you could listen in on the dead. They don't know about anything else."

"Good. I like to keep 'em on their toes." Sookie snorts at your all too amused expression. "And besides, I learned a new trick! I can't wait to test it out."

Your sister glances between you and the road, her smile faltering. "Are you- are you sure you're okay to do this? I know how it can get when you're not truly focused."

"We're on the road." You giggle. "No turning around now."

This time it's Sookie's turn to groan. "I knew I should have asked beforehand. Now the night's gonna end with one of us pinned to a wall."

"Oooh. Kinky."

The rest of the drive is painfully quiet, with the exception of some gospel music station Sookie has playing on low. You're humming a completely different song under your breath, right arm hanging out the window and letting the humid air rush over the skin of your arm. Thankfully the drive isn't too long and Sookie is soon pulling into the parking lot with a building partially decorated with neon red lights. The outside of Fangtasia is not what you expected, but seeing the line of both human and vampires in their scantily clad outfits makes you excited to see what's going on inside.

You're practically bouncing in your seat as Sookie parks and she can't help but grin at your apparent excitement. "Get it all out now," she says. "You won't be smilin' the closer you get to the buildin'. Not while you're half drunk."

"Shut up and let's go!"

Sookie fondly rolls her eyes and the two of you simultaneously pull down the sun visors to check yourselves in the small mirrors provided. Happy with your reflections, the two of you climb out of the vehicle. As your sister comes around to your side, you hook your arm through hers and the two of you head for the building.

Instead of heading straight to the back of line, Sookie leads you directly to Fangtasia's bouncer and ignores the grumbled displeasures of those waiting in line to get in. It takes you a few seconds to recognize the dark skinned female checking ID's, but when she turns to greet Sookie and her eyes widen upon seeing you, you grin. "What's cookin', good lookin'?"

"Oh Lord," Tara muses. "Eric's gonna murder the both of y'all."

Sookie huffs and she holds you back as you attempt to poke at Tara's abdomen. "Who put him in a bad mood now?"

Tara shrugs as she swats your hand away. "It's Eric. He's always in a bad mood unless he's balls deep in some fang-banger."

Your sister ew's and you grin, clearly impressed, until Sookie elbows you. Tara just chuckles and gestures inside. "Go on in. You know where to find him. See you later, Y/N."

"Lookin' forward to it." Sookie drags you inside and the second you step foot in the darkened hallway, you sway on your feet as pressure builds up in your head. "Wait, wait, wait." You step aside to lean against the wall, shaking your head clear and trying to build up mental walls. When you catch a glimpse of your sister, you see her smiling sadly at you and are grateful she doesn't gloat about being right. "This is why I don't hang around vampires much," you murmur. "So much death."

"Sorry. I know I should have asked beforehand, but I didn't want to give you a chance to say no. Eric's annoying when he doesn't get what he wants."

"Yeah, yeah." You wave her off, close your eyes, and take a few deep breaths. Once you feel a bite more settled, you push off the wall and meet your sister's gaze. "Okay. I'm ready."

Entering the main part of the club you can't help but look around in wide-eyed wonder. While most would think you were awe, you actually weren't and instead bit back the comment about how ridiculously cliché the establishment is. Everything is in blacks and reds, vampires in leather or electrical tape are dancing on poles, and the humans reek of desperation.

"Huh. No one's on the throne," Sookie muses.

You glance towards a raised platform, eyes lighting up at the sight of two actual thrones. Sookie's grip on your arm, however, stops you from attempting to go up there. "At least buy me a drink before we meet Mr. Scary Vampire." You pout.

"Nope." She starts marching away from the bar and towards a back hallway. "You're drunk enough already. You can have one at home when we're done here."

"Boo. You're no fun."

Sookie stops right outside a black door and impatiently knocks. You grin at her already huffy attitude and then walk in behind her as soon as someone permits entrance. The office is very plain, with the exception of a blood red couch off to the side and the two vampires behind the desk, and you frown as Sookie guides you towards a black leather chair and pushes you down into it.

"So this is the mysterious Stackhouse." The blonde male drawls.

You drag your gaze from your sister to the vampire in question and sit a little straighter in your seat as a lazy smile stretches across your lips. "And you're the mysterious vampire I've only heard about an hour ago." You then look at your sister. "Please tell me you banged this one."

There are simultaneous snorts from behind the desk and Sookie exhales roughly, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Eric. Pam, this is my sister Y/N. She might be a little drunk."

"Just a little," you muse, giggling.

"Well at least we know who the fun Stackhouse is."

You perk up again, putting one finger on the tip of your nose and pointing at Pam who's smirking at you with the other hand. "And don't you forget it."

"As amusing as this is," Eric drawls again, "I need a favor. Are you capable of doing what your sister claims you can do?"

"I wouldn't be here if I couldn't." You smirk. The smirk falters however as you feel a chill slide across the back of your neck. You still and slowly glance over your shoulder, whispers you hadn't been listening to earlier getting louder. You wince and turn back around, strengthening your shields. A moment passes before you clear your throat and say, "But I have two conditions before I start."

Eric and Pam had been watching you closely, intrigued the second Sookie held up her hand to stall their questions when they noticed you zone out and stare at the corner of the room. "Money is no issue," Eric then says.

"Pft. I don't want money."

"Y/N!" Sookie reprimands. "You're in between jobs. Take the money."

Without looking at your sister, you wave your hand at your sister to get her to shut up. You know you've done your job when she swats your hand so you continue speaking to Eric. "First condition, no biting! I don't care how delicious I smell. No gnawing on the tiny little gremlin."

Pam's lips stretch into a wide smile whereas Eric's lips faintly twitch. "And the second?"

"I get free drinks from the bar whenever I'm here."

"Deal."

"Yes!"

"You're such an idiot," Sookie mutters.

You look to your sister, bouncing in your seat in excitement. "Joke's on Dracula. I'm gonna be in Bon Temps for the foreseeable future. That's a lot of free drinks for me. Suck it, Pixie."

"Oohh. I like this mouth breather. Can we please keep her?"

You meet Pam's gaze and wink. "As beautiful as you are, sweet stuff, you are so not my type."

Her left eyebrow raises as she's still clearly amused. "Because I'm a vampire?"

"Nah. Because you're female," you say. "I can appreciate a hot as fuck lady when I see one, but I still prefer cock."

"Okay!" Sookie nearly shouts as she stands up. Eric beams at your drunken blunt attitude. "We're here so Y/N can find out where your money is and we're way off topic. Can we please get on with it so I can get her home?"

You snort. "Prude." Sookie slaps the back of your arm and you squeal, slapping her arm back. You glare at her until her lips twitch and then you're back to giggling, looking back toward the vampires. "So let's do it. Do you have anything of the dead guy I'm supposed to be listening for? It'll make it easier to listen in on him."

Pam shrugs. "His blood is still in the dungeon. Will that work?"

"Gross, but yeah. Lead the way."

As soon as you stand, the voices amp up and you sway at the sudden onslaught of voices. You grit your teeth and tune them out, nodding at Eric who had stilled to keep an eye on you. He gestures to follow after Pam and you do, Sookie and Eric following behind you. Pam makes a beeline for the stage of thrones, but before you can follow there's a hand gripping your wrist and leading you towards a door behind the bar.

You're led down into a dimly lit dungeon behind Eric and you can't help the next words that leave your mouth. "It's always such a let down when the dungeon is actually a dungeon and not a sex dungeon."

Eric turns around to stare at you with a leering gaze and Sookie groans. "Been in a lot of dungeons?"

"Not really." You shrug and walk towards the back of the room where there are metal poles sticking up from the concrete floor. Chains hang from each of them and you shiver as your fingers run over them, the metallic rattling immediately tuning you in to the whispers. Subtly shaking your head, you look towards Sookie. "You know the drill."

She nods, pulling small orange styrofoam plugs from her pocket. "If it looks like you're struggling, plug my ears. Or get out."

"Bingo." You grin at your sister before looking at Eric. "If it gets bad, I expect you to vamp speed her little butt outta here."

"And how would I know what bad looks like?"

"Oh you'll know," Sookie mutters.

Grinning one last time at Sookie and Eric, you turn back towards where Eric obviously chains up those who end up on his bad side. So touching the chains again, you let the rattling and whispers overcome your senses.

"..dangerous. Need to leave."

"..bad place. I just want to go home."

"Stupid fuckin' vampers."

The room turns hazy and silhouettes walk to and from around the basement. You stare at them, letting the voices come and go until you find the one you're looking for.

"..so screwed. Never should have done it." Your gaze zeroes in on the silhouette, watching it pace back and forth. "It was just a little money. Pocket change."

"Never gonna find it. Calm down. We're already dead."

You listen a bit more to their whining, hoping for anything useful when a loud dry sob pierces the air. You wince and whirl around to spot the source of noise.

"Did she- can she hear us?"

"If she can then she can tell that goddamn vamper where his stuff is." You whirl back around, gasping at the too close silhouette. "Hello." A chill rushes through you and your too tense muscles seem to relax as a haze takes over your mind.

"Y/N? You good?" Sookie asks. She warily glances around, she and Eric both noticing the atmosphere in the room thickening.

"Hm?" Your eyes blink rapidly as if clearing your vision. "Yeah. All good," you hear yourself saying.

"Well what did you find out?" Eric asks.

You feel your head turning left and right as if taking in your surroundings before you turn around and walk towards the wall where more chains are hanging. Eric growls at being ignored and Sookie quietly assures him that this is normal. Reaching for a chain, you feel your hand gliding along one chain and picking it up, caressing a metal stake at the end of it.

"Y/N," Sookie cautiously calls out. "What are you doing?"

Getting a good grasp on the stake in one hand, you turn around and smile at Eric- a chilling smile that immediately sets Sookie on edge and lets even Eric know that something is off. "Fuck your money. You're never gonna get it, you dead piece of shit."

"Y/N, don't!" Sookie screams as your arm suddenly thrusts the stake towards the side of your neck, only to stop mere centimeters from the intended target.

Sookie gasps and Eric raises an eyebrow in surprise. "Are her eyes supposed to completely white over?"

"Well she did mention learning a new trick." Sookie nervously shifts beside Eric and they watch you slowly come back to yourself, expression hardening.

Eyes completely white, you stare straight ahead as you lower your hand without any resistance from the spirits. "You dead fucks try that shit again and I will obliterate your fuckin' souls, and mark every soul in your goddamn family. Do I make myself clear?" You seethe. The dungeon gets chilly before the tension seems to suddenly dwindle. The whispers amp up before completely dying out and you stand a little taller. "Good. Now where is the money?"

Eric and Sookie patiently watch Y/N as she lazily glances back and forth before the white recedes from her eyes. Her shoulders sag and she meets Eric's gaze. "That Rafael guy had a building he was renovating over on.. over on.." she trails off, brow furrowing as she tries to collect her thoughts.

"I know of it," Eric says.

She sighs. "Well the money's in the wall on the second floor. Happy demolishing."

Then like a puppet with its strings cut, Y/N collapses right before their very eyes.

          - - - - - - - - - -

A pounding at your temples is what wakes you and you groan as your eyes flutter open. You're apparently still at Fangtasia, back in Eric's plain office and laying on the most uncomfortable couch you've ever laid on.

"You're awake. Good."

You begrudgingly sit up, wincing as the throbbing persists. Glancing around, you frown as you notice you and Eric are the only two in the room. "Where's my sister?"

"Miss Stackhouse couldn't bother a mere hour in my presence so she went out front to pester Tara."

"You two exes or something?"

Not even close. "No. I admit I pursued her once, but it was only to satiate my curiosity about why she smelled so divine." Bill fuckin' Compton was also a cock block of epic proportions.

You snort. "Cock block. Who is Bill and why did he cock block you from Sookie?" Eric stills and he goes quiet. You frown at him and then between one blink and the next, Eric is kneeling in front of you.

Can you hear me?

"Um, yes?" You say. A moment passes and then you realize your slip-up. You groan. "Okay, so yeah. I can't read the minds of humans, but apparently I can read the minds of vampires. It only happens when I'm at my most vulnerable and being slightly possessed makes me vulnerable."

Eric slowly smirks. "Well aren't you my new favorite Stackhouse."

You fall back against the back of the couch, groaning. "Whatever. I don't have the energy to argue with you. Just please don't tell Sookie. She gets all huffy when I can do something she can't."

Another blink and Eric is sitting beside you on the couch. "Is there a reason why you can read vampires and she can read everyone else but vampires?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." You shrug. "I eventually came to the conclusion that we're just a part of different courts. She's Light Fae and I'm Dark. She flourishes under the sun and I under the moon. I don't really know."

"Have you tried getting answers from other Fae?"

"Yeah, no. I met a member of the Fae court and that's a hard pass. Those fairy fucks can keep their imposter foods. I like this realm just fine, thank you very much."

Eric's lips twitch. "If the vampires find out about your powers, they're going to fight to put their claim on you."

"Is that your not so subtle way in trying to convince me that I should ask you for protection?"

"I'm the sheriff of this area, sweetheart. You won't be able to find anyone better suited for the job."

You huff a quiet laugh. "Keep your fangs to yourself, sweetheart. I can take care of myself."

We'll see about that.

Settling in at what was always known as Gran's house, you almost take Sam up on his offer to become a waitress or bartender at Merlotte's. But then a day after doing Eric a favor, a check arrives for you- a check worth thousands of dollars- along with an offer from Eric to work every other day at Fangtasia to read the vampires coming and going from his area.

You didn't get back to him right away, instead choosing to just keep to yourself for a bit and re-familiarize yourself with the town. And then just when you think you have a lid on things, a constant buzzing makes a home just at the back of your skull.

For days Eric tries reaching you through texts and calls, but you just don't have the patience to deal with him. The buzzing is non-stop, the echoes of the dead sound as if they're underwater, and you can't hold a conversation longer than a minute. Sookie seems to understand that you can't be around people, so she leaves you be for the most part.

Your sister is currently at work so you have the house all to yourself. You haven't been able to clear your head and the buzzing is only getting louder and louder. You're nearing your breaking point, so when there's a knock at the front door you try to ignore it.

The knocking persists so you reluctantly roll out of bed, frowning as you march downstairs and towards the front door. Through the screen door you can see Eric standing there. You scowl at him, he grins, and when you push open the door he's immediately leaning against the door jamb. "You've been ignoring me."

You sigh and cross your arms over your chest. "I haven't been feeling well. Something's.. off."

That causes his faint grin to drop. "Is it something serious?"

"I'm not sure. I just- it feels like something bad is on the way."

"Well in that case.." Eric straightens up and stares down at you. "You're going to invite me in so I can protect you-" you scoff, "-or have primal passionate sex with you. You pick."

Though your mind is on overdrive, you can't help but faintly grin at the tall vampire. "I'll take a raincheck on the sex, but if you still want to come in, then come in."

Eric smirks as he crosses the threshold of the house and you shake your head at him before turning around and leading him to the living room. You take a seat in the corner of the couch, curling up with a pillow in your lap, and Eric sits on the middle seat to be as close to you as possible. "How long have you been feeling like this?"

"Few days now," you tell him. "There's this.. buzz. It's constant and it just keeps getting louder and louder."

"And the voices?"

"Muffled. No matter how much I concentrate, I can't hear them clearly. It's like they're trying to tell me something, but I can't tune in to the right station. It's annoying." Eric hums in thought and you attempt to change the subject. "So what brings you down here to Bon Temps? Surely my first impression wasn't that memorable."

He smirks as his arm rests along the top of the backrest of the couch, his fingers tugging on a few pieces of your hair. "It's rare for someone to amuse me these days. And you weren't what I was expecting Sookie's twin to be."

"Between the two of us, Sookie got all the perkiness. I, uh, I got stuck with all the doom and gloom." Eric quirks an eyebrow at you and you chuckle, wincing a moment later as an lingering echo screeches in your ear. Your attention is immediately drawn towards the kitchen where you see a silhouette walk by and the buzzing amps up.

Without uttering a word, you get up and follow it.

Eric watches as Y/N laughs one moment and then in the next second her expression is completely blank and attention elsewhere. Normally he'd be offended, but after learning what he could from Sookie he knows to never bring Y/N out of a trance. So in order to protect this little fae that just continues to become more and more interesting, Eric gets up and follows Y/N through the kitchen and out the back door.

He keeps several feet between himself and Y/N, his curiosity piqued as he notices her stop in the middle of the field behind her home. She glances back and forth as if searching for something, slowly turning in a circle. She winces and stumbles back, eyes wide and heart pumping furiously. Whatever's going on, Eric's instincts suddenly kick in and he doesn't like it. He doesn't like the look of fear on Y/N's face.

One sudden stumble sends Y/N to her knees, hands clamping around her ears.

"No, no, no," you mumble. The buzzing is extremely loud now, voices are screaming but you're still unable to make out what they're saying. Rocking back and forth, you glance around and your heart sinks as you watch Eric standing there across from you. "Go. Get away. I can't-"

"What's wrong? I can help you."

You shake your head. "You can't. You need to go. Get away from me. Please."

Eric watches you and you whimper when you see his resolve strengthen. He's not going anywhere. Clenching your eyes shut against the onslaught of noise, you slam your hands down on the ground in front of you and your fingers dig into the earth. Your breaths come faster and faster, and when you can't take it anymore your eyes fly open as you open your mouth and scream.

Your scream drowns out the buzz, the voices become clearer and it's only there alongside your scream do you understand them. You don't know how long you scream for, but when you stop your throat feels raw.

"What was that?" Eric asks.

"Sookie."

He's immediately kneeling before you, fingers under your chin to tilt your face upward. "What did you say?"

"My sister. She's not- she's not safe."

"She's at work under the ever watchful eye of the shifter."

"She is. Until she walks out back to take out the trash," you say. "Please," you beg. "Just.. just go check on her."

Eric continues to hold your gaze for a moment longer before he gives you a terse nod and then stands tall. Your eyes follow him as she lifts off into the air and it's like a weight is lifted off your chest. You sob in relief, curling in on yourself with your face in your hands.

"..inside.. safer.."

The hairs on the back of your neck stand up and your cries immediately cease. Sniffling, you sit back up and glance around the field you're in. Hearing the chirping insects and the ruffling of tree limbs puts you at unease, so you climb to your feet and hurriedly make your way back towards the house. You don't breathe until you're inside, behind closed doors, but even then you're still a little tense and wondering if your sister is okay.

The minutes tick on by as you pace back and forth in the kitchen, and you yelp when you turn around and Eric is standing right there. You raise a fist in order to punch him, but stop halfway there and instead poke his chest as you push him back a step. "Don't do that."

He smirks. "Sookie is fine. A couple of human junkies needed some money for their next fix. The sheriff is on the way to take care of the issue."

"Thank you." You sigh. As you move aside to take a seat at the table, you glance back at Eric and see a blood trail falling from his ear. Your eyes widen and you rush towards him, uncaring about boundaries when one hand lands on his chest and the other grasping his chin to turn his face sideways. "Your ear! I told you to leave before I screamed. Why didn't you listen?" You let go of his chin and then shove him a step back as you go back to pacing.

Eric chuckles. "You've been keeping secrets. You're not just Fae, are you?"

You shrug. "I'm not really sure what I am. I only found out I was part Fae because you guys told Sookie she was. The mind reading is from Fae abilities, but the screaming-"

"The wailing is a whole different breed."

You stop pacing and face him once more. "There's only one creature that wails," you say, "but I gave up on digging into our family history a long time ago."

"You truly are a rare breed, Miss Stackhouse. Half fae, half banshee. The vampires are going to be in a tizzy over you."

You groan. "A problem is inevitable until I agree to a claim, isn't it?"

"Aren't you a smart cookie."

You scowl at Eric then, holding his gaze until you sigh. "If I say yes to a claim, can I have your word that you won't take advantage?" He smiles then and though this vampire is ridiculously good looking, you rather not be someone's pet. But alas, you know he's right. "If the offer for a job at Fangtasia is still open, I'll take it. I don't plan to leave Bon Temps anytime soon and I'm going to need the cash."

"Sweetheart, if you agree to be mine I'll give you all the cash you could want."

Your nose wrinkles. "I'm so gonna regret this." There's a faint click! as Eric's fangs appear, his eyes darkening as he readily bites into his wrist. "Don't tell my sister."

Drink up, little one. We're going to have some fun.

[emerald-chaos]

Daydream

**gif not mine! credit to the owner**

So, I couldn't help myself. This is a continuation of my previous Bucky fic Insomnia because I just really enjoyed the dynamic between Bucky and the reader. I had a lot of fun writing this part and I love building things up between the two of them. If you guys like this or are interested in seeing more - please let me know! I love talking with people and hearing their ideas and such.

Much love xo.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2079

Warnings: cursing, struggles with mental illness, mentions of sex (nothing entirely explicit but better safe than sorry), alcohol use, and really poorly written jokes lmao

Fingers threaded into hair.

Hot, opened-mouth kisses marking every surface of your neck.

Nails trailing down his back leaving raised, red lines in their wake.

“Oh my god,” you groaned as you let your head fall back and continued to rock your hips into the man in front of you.

Strong hands tighten their hold on your hips, sure to leave purplish-blue bruises for the morning.

“C’mon, baby,” he grunted, face buried in your neck as he helped your body to grind against his, “I got you. Let go, fuck, let go for me.”

A pair of slender fingers snapped in front of your line of sight, tearing you from your daydream and bringing you harshly back to reality.

“Hmm, what was that?” You blinked a few times before you turned your attention to the redhead who you, apparently, had been having a conversation with.

“Are you serious?” She laughed, “I’ve been talking for the past 10 minutes! I looked over and you had that far off, glossy look in your eyes. Not to mention you’re bleeding.”

A hand found its way to your lower lip and you realized she was right. You had been so lost in wet dreamland that you chewed a layer of skin off of your lip. You hoped she didn’t notice the heat rising in your face as you cleared your throat, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table.

“Sorry,” you muttered, pressing the tissue against your injured lip, “guess I got lost in thought.”

“Is it one of those flashbacks again?” She asked kindly, facial expression softening.

You nodded quickly, knowing fully well that the statement was a lie. Your gaze drifted over the woman’s shoulder to the subject of your previous thoughts. It would be easier to explain the common occurrence of your PTSD than it would be to explain that you were reminiscing on the hot, steamy, passionate sex you had the night before.

Bucky was situated across the room, leaning against the counter as he talked to Rogers and Wilson. The unfortunately tight, black, short-sleeve t-shirt he was wearing left nothing to the imagination. It accentuated every muscle of the body you had gotten to know so intimately not more than 10 hours ago. His muscular arms were crossed at his chest and he was sporting his signature scowl. Everything about the sight sent a shiver down your spine. You finally had a taste and you wanted more.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your friend’s voice gained your attention once more.

A small smile found its way to your lips as you met her gaze again. Apart from Bucky, Nat had always been a good trauma buddy of yours. From the beginning she had been someone you felt like you could confide in and someone who would understand your troubles. Sometimes you wondered if a requirement of joining the avengers was to have a fucked up, tragic backstory.

“I’m okay, Nat.” You reassured, “Just got lost in my head again.”

“Whatever you say. Maybe the party tonight will help you get your mind off of things,” She mused as she pushed herself from the couch to stand up. She paused briefly before she turned to you again, “you are coming, right?”

“Yeah,” you snorted, “Tony actually threatened me if I didn’t go this time, so, I guess I have to.”

After the last party you skipped out on, Tony cornered you in the hallway and gave you quite the interrogation. Then he went on a spiel about how staying in your room all day and all night was bad for you and that if he didn’t know better he would think you weren’t appreciative of what he’d done for you and blah, blah, blah. Tony really was a good person underneath all that hair gel. All he wanted was to help you break out of your shell and give you the family he knew you were lacking. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be a pushy asshole.

“Good, I’ll see you there. I’m sure Barnes will too.” A devilish grin painted her lips as she watched your jaw drop. Before you had a chance to say anything she was off down the hallway.

Fuckin’ Natasha.

*******

A pile of clothes littered your bed as you slipped another dress over your form. Not once in your life had you ever been concerned about what you were wearing or what you looked like, but there was something about tonight that made you want to turn heads. Your eyes raked down your figure as you twisted from side to side, admiring the way the black dress hugged your body in all the right places. Not to mention the thigh high slit in the dress showed off probably the only body part you weren’t self-conscious about. Tony, being the theatrical and over the top man he was, once said that you shouldn’t show up to his parties if you weren’t dressed to court a royal or to bring a man to his knees. Guess you were shooting for the latter.

As you put the finishing touches on your look for the evening, you felt that familiar heavy feeling settling into your chest. Your body always had a tendency to go into fight or flight mode when you became too familiar with anything or anyone. It felt like every fiber in your body was screaming for you to retreat into sweats and stay in your room, to not allow yourself this opportunity to enjoy the people you’d grown so close to. You know what happens when you let people in.

Grief, trauma, coping - it made it really difficult to live a “normal” life. Everyday tasks are daunting, it can be next to impossible to have intimate friendships or relationships, and not to mention the intrusive thoughts that infect your mind on a daily, if not hourly, basis. Here you were, the happiest you’d been in years. You were finally in a place where you felt loved, comfortable, safe - and yet your mind was trying to self-sabotage again.

You took a moment to close your eyes and take several deep breaths. When you opened your eyes you locked eyes with your reflection in the mirror and made a pact with the girl staring back at you. The intrusive thoughts and self-doubt couldn’t continue to have a hold over you anymore. You gave yourself a small smirk and nod as you made the decision to throw caution to the wind and give the party a try. What’s the worst that could happen?

*******

Come to find out, the worst that could happen would be your competitive nature overcoming the rational, thinking part of your brain; which in turn would lead you to enter in a drinking contest. Thankfully a small portion of your pink, smooth brain was still functional enough to tell you when you’d reached your limit. Now you sat comfortably on the couch, legs tucked underneath you as you joyfully watched your friends argue.

“Dr. Banner, my friend, you are one of the most intelligent people I know. However, you are wrong.” Thor stated simply as he finished the rest of his drink.

“Thor, for the last time, water is not wet!” Bruce retorted, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You let out a loud snort before thinking, “Oh yeah, water. I should drink some water.”

Your feet planted themselves on the floor and slipped back into your pair of shoes. As you made your way to the kitchen you were pleasantly surprised by your balance and coordination, considering how much alcohol you’d consumed. Seems that drinking with Thor has done wonders for your tolerance.

While you were busy searching the refrigerator for a bottle of water, you were also oblivious to the soft sound of footsteps coming into the kitchen. After retrieving the beverage, you closed the door and turned to leave. Instead, you turned right into the chest of a figure that was definitely not there a moment ago. You yelped as you clutched a hand over your chest dramatically, your face filled with horror as though you’d just come face to face with the grim reaper.

“Jesus Christ, Barnes!” you scolded.

Bucky was holding his abdomen as he leaned back, consumed with laughter at your reaction. You huffed and wanted to be offended, but he looked so damn cute laughing that you couldn’t help but join him. You pushed his chest playfully and grumped as you hopped up to sit on the counter, opening the water to gulp about half of it down. Bucky couldn’t help but grin at your pouty state as he finished up his laughing fit.

“My apologies, sweets. Didn’t realize I’d be makin’ ya scream twice in one day.” He teased, grinning even wider as he did so.

Your jaw dropped at the comment, quickly looking around to make sure no one else was in the kitchen to hear what he had said. After seeing that the coast was clear you kicked your foot at him out of annoyance, only for his metal hand to catch it smoothly. The two of you locked eyes, motionless for a moment before he moved closer, sliding his hand from your ankle to your thigh. In the moment, you damned yourself for choosing this particular dress. The closer he got, the faster your breathing became. The contrast between his cold embrace and your flushed, warm skin sent a shiver down your spine. Abandoning the water bottle, you ran your hands up his abdomen and chest until they rested on his shoulders. Following a small nudge from his knee, you parted your legs to allow him space to stand between them. The heat in your face at an all time high as he pressed his flesh hand to your cheek.

“Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about you.” Bucky whispered as he stroked the apple of your cheek with his thumb. Each word that left his lips had you feeling way more intoxicated than any liquor you’d had all night.

As quickly as it started, his touch was gone and his back was turned as he opened the fridge. Before you had a chance to open your mouth to ask what the hell just happened, Tony was entering into the kitchen.

“Well, well, well. Surprised to see you here, Annie.” Tony beamed as he laid eyes on you.

Yes, Tony had nicknamed you after little orphan Annie. Yes, he also referred to himself lovingly as Daddy Warbucks. Yes, any person in their right mind would probably be offended, but you were just fucked up enough that you found it kind of hilarious.

“Wish I could say that it’s a pleasure, Tony.” You grumped back, upset that you’d been cockblocked and by Tony no less.

“Never lose that spunk, kid.” Tony winked as he turned to see Bucky retreating from the fridge with a beer in hand. “Inspector Gadget! Good to see you too.”

As much as you didn’t want to encourage him, you couldn’t help but laugh. Much to your dismay, Bucky simply raised his bottle to Tony as if to say “cheers” and padded out of the kitchen.

“He has such a way with words.” Tony teased as you rolled your eyes.

A sigh left your lips as you slipped off the counter and back onto the floor, muttering a “goodnight” before leaving the kitchen and heading back to your room. Although you wanted nothing more than to find Bucky and finish what he had started in the kitchen, you came to the conclusion that you were probably too drunk and definitely too tired.

Back in the comfort of your bedroom, you went about your normal nighttime routine. As you exited the bathroom, you couldn’t help but notice a piece of paper that had been slipped beneath your door. Grabbing the paper from the floor and plopping back onto your soft mattress, you opened it to read the note that was scribbled in black ink.

Never got the chance to tell you how gorgeous you looked tonight. Gotta say, I’m a big fan of that dress.

Sweet dreams.

- B.

When you finished the note, it felt as though you were floating on cloud 9. Even when you laid your head down and tried to welcome sleep, Bucky’s words were still replaying in your head over and over again - like they were lyrics to your new favorite song.

Turns out you were down for Bucky Barnes, and you were down bad.

[selinakidreams]

hello!! this is my first ever collab and man o man am I happy to be participating in @buttershouse ‘s Magic March with so many talented people!! Please go check out everyone’s work, there’s so many delicious pieces to choose from.

without further a-due, please enjoy this 7k word mash of a magic coffee shop/witch/ college au that I have goin here

pairing: Sero Hanta (with a FUCKIN UNDERCUT !) x gn!reader (afab)

warnings: she’s WHOLESOME, implied sexual themes throughout and then actual smut at the end !! , sex on aphrodisiacs

a/n: thank you so so so so so so so much to @keishinslove @hiddenbluee @spikesbimbo @scorpiomoonslutt and @dymphnasprose for reading and beta-ing this big boi- you guys helped me so much and 🥺🥺 you guys seriously mean the world to me.

tag list: @hiddenbluee​ @undersero @sawam0chi

“Double double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble,” you hum as you steep black tea before shifting to the other part of your station so you could add the guise of vanilla to the milk you were about to steam. 

You hear a snort come from your coworker as she looks over to you before smirking, “You think you’re so funny,” she teases while heating up a chocolate muffin for the current order. 

“I do, I really do,” you muse, holding the metal pitcher up to the espresso machine’s steam wand. The distinct smell of the liquid luck wafts around as you begin blending it in with the milk; it makes you smile, a comfortingly warm feeling washing over you. 

You always hoped people stepped into the shop hearing about the rumors and whole-heartedly believed them; believing in the magic that went into each drink when they ordered something off of the special menus- and that it wasn’t just for the unique taste. 

When you first started out, you often heard that with each new employee, the magical feeling tends to die out sooner or later; the happiness of creating spells and potions for others fleeting with the ever-growing pessimism towards all things unexplainable. After working at the shop for three years, one would think the feeling would have caught up to you, instead you felt anything but. With each new regular whose eyes sparkled with excitement as you handed them their unique concoction of a drink, your smile grew wider. Sometimes the familiar faces would come back and whisper about how each drink gave them the right energy to deal with each individual situation… almost like magic. You could do nothing but smile, sometimes a coy little wink was added, exciting the customer more and more. They'd leave with a newfound pep in their step. That's what has kept you going for so long. All anyone ever has to do was keep an open mind and believe that true magic does exist, and when you do, it's almost as though a door opens up, full of delightful possibilities.

As you called out the finished order and thanked the satisfied customer, the shop’s entrance bell chimed, welcoming in the newest one. 

You look up and made eye contact with someone who seemed oddly familiar; you tend to remember almost every person that has shown up more than twice at the cafe, so the fact that you can't fully recognize him only shows that the cafe couldn't have been where you’ve known him from... You couldn't quite put your finger on where you've seen him before but you definitely couldn't forget the welcoming aura he radiated. With his black hair pulled into a ponytail, exposing his undercut, and his extra large t-shirt hanging off of his lean frame, he flashed a bright smile, heading up to the counter to order.

Accustomed to ‘hey’s, ‘hi’s, or even an immediate order, the first thing out of his mouth somewhat surprised you. With a tilt of the head and a squint of the eyes, he mumbled out, “.. You look really familiar.” as he tried to place the face.  

“You know, I was thinking the same thing...” you trailed off. 

After a few seconds of analysis with no conclusion, he seemed to shrug and let out a little chuckle with a passive “it'll probably come to me in the middle of my next class…” before his eyes caught sight of the menus off to the side. Not wanting to make it too obvious that you were tempted to stare, you aimed your gaze elsewhere, only occasionally sneaking a glance at him while he was preoccupied with the menu.

“Ahh… can I get…” he kept his sights on all the options he could, as if it was going to make him any more decisive. Part of you hoped to hear something special, something magical, only to hear, “uhh a… hot latte please?”

While a very solid drink, you subconsciously waited to hear a flavor come after it; staring at him, almost in a daze. 

“Did I forget something...?” Your eyes grew wide, mind blank, trying to come up with an excuse for the elongated silence but before you could spout something out, his smile grew as he rolled his eyes, “Oh, duh, I forgot the size!” A breathy laugh came after his revelation and your chest  felt lighter once the sound hit your ears. “Could I get a large please?”

“Yeah, absolutely!” you chime as you grab a large paper cup and mark down his order with a sharpie.“Will that be all for you today?” looking back up at him, your customer service smile makes its awaited appearance like clockwork as it did when wrapping up every order. His eyes darted to the full pastry case before he could conclude, causing an actual smile to grace your lips, “Tempted?”

“One way or another, yea,” he said with an undertone of something else being implied, causing your cheeks to heat up. The smile that he threw in there further caused a little flutter of your heart.  

“Well luckily for you, we just restocked, so you've got a wide range of goodies to choose from.”

He licked his bottom lip and smoothly responded with, “Well which is your favorite?”

“My favorite? Hmm… Well, I always love a good chocolate croissant whenever I'm drinking regular lattes. The chocolate adds in that kick of sweetness that compliments the lack thereof with the coffee and bonus, it's not too heavy where it will make you feel bloated.`` 

“You really know how to sell a guy… That sounds amazing. Could I have that, please?” the tone in his voice was playful, fun, possibly flirty- and that was something that you were not going to think about. He’s a customer; he might not come back when he wants his next cup of coffee.

“You want me to warm it up for you?”

“Sure!”

Picking up the prongs, you took the freshest croissant from the batch and placed it in the microwave oven, turning back around. 

You voiced his total with a soft smile, “Cash or card?”

“Card. uh .. Can I leave a tip on here?” 

Cue the airy sigh that left your chest. A man who knows to leave a tip: you were in love with him already.

“Yea!” you squeak before clearing your throat, “Yea, once you remove your card, the option should pop up on the screen!”

You throw one more smile back at him before turning around to start his drink, not missing the incredibly hard stare your coworker was giving you. You try not to look at them throughout the duration of making his drink.

Handing the handsome man his order, your hands lightly brushed against his and you fought hard to ignore the hefty thump in your chest. You looked back up at him and swore that there was a tint of rose dusted across his cheeks. 

You saw the beginning of his outburst before you could hear it. 

“Sero!” he said quickly, “Sero Hanta. That’s my name.” 

You smiled, sticking out your hand and saying your name, “I’ll be sure to remember it… Sero.” 

The rest of the shift went by pretty quick after that. Your coworker couldn't keep their mouth shut about how he was flirting with you and how you just so happened to be flirting back. You two were giggling so much that the rest of the shift just seemed to slip away and before you know it, it was time to clock out.

“Is there anything you want me to do before I head out?” you shout, asking the newly present night shift as you’re halfway out the door. 

“No no, we got it,” both your coworkers chime, “just hurry up and get to class!” one of them adds. 

Rolling your eyes, you wave goodbye, double checking that everything needed for class was in your bag before fully lugging one of the straps onto your shoulder and heading off.

The walk wasn't that far from the shop, luckily- taking your time and enjoying the world around you was such a cooldown from the hustle and bustle of your work shifts. 

The college town was quaint, warm, homely; It felt like everywhere was a short walk away- which it was. There was an ample amount of time for you to stroll to class after one of your shifts.

As you peruse down the street, you took note of how bright it felt this time of day and how soft the glow emanating from the sunlight hitting the trees was; the kiss of the sun heated your skin, allowing you to bask in the warmth of everything: the environment, the vibe, the mood. What a great feeling. 

Random thoughts passed in and out of your brain as you got to the entrance of campus- but the continuous train of thought halted at the station when the image of that man who came into the shop, the one with the undercut- Sero Hanta, popped up.

He was really attractive… where had you seen him before?

You mindlessly head towards the lecture hall, with the image of Sero’s face ever present behind your eyelids. The approaching building was a beautiful brick with ivy climbing up the side, a framed golden plaque near the large double doors announced that people were about to enter the Mirai Sasaki building- something you would normally stop to admire but today, you headed straight inside and towards your seat, still mentally preoccupied. 

Plopping down, you situate yourself, getting everything out; your textbook, notebook, pens, pencils and even a highlighter. You take a deep breath before slightly shaking your mind to wake up and concentrate on the human sexuality lecture that was about to start. Sero Hanta can wait.

Is what you told yourself and yet, the thought of him wouldn't leave you alone. It went so far as even hearing the professor call out his name. 

“So, I just wanted to clarify,” your ears perk up at the voice, “The article you gave us was about how unequal the orgasm ratio- the orgasm gap- is for women… but I feel like there is a new wave of um… feminine orgasm appreciation. Not to get too personal, but I know between my friends and I, we make sure that our partners always come… first.” He trailed off at the last part, probably coming to terms with the awkward phrasing he had ended with. 

You had to take a second to get a grip; too many things were happening at once and the one that held most of your attention was the fact that Sero Hanta blatantly admitted to wanting the girl to orgasm first. 

What a gentleman.

“Thank you for your… input … mister Sero- but with what you pointed out, it’s actually a perfect segway into the first project of the semester! If you notice in your syllabus, I typed a very vague title for the next class’s date. We're going to talk about it more next class but until then, please read the assigned articles by the next class and have a good rest of your day!”

While the majority of the class was packed and headed to the door, your eyes stayed glued on Sero as you mindlessly put things away. It seemed as though he was taking his time as well. Maybe he needed to talk to the professor? 

Seeing that your desk was now cleared, you slowly began descending down the stairs to get to the floor level, eyes glued to each step in front of you, mind somewhere completely different until your head is met with a firm back. With wide eyes, you step back and begin a stream of apologies, head bowed and eyes still on the floor as if you didn’t learn your lesson the first time. A warm chuckle hushes you accompanied with a light, “It’s alright, it’s alright!”

You look back up and are met with the mind-dizzying smile of the man who failed to leave your thoughts alone. 

Before your eyes could get any bigger, he murmurs your name. “So this is where I know you from!” He slightly cheered, lopsided grin growing comfortable. 

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚ 12 oz Time Flies with soy milk, hot; cinnamon orange black tea latte brewed with charmed orange peel to bring back the most nostalgic feelings (add a shot of our very own vanilla -liquid luck- to help Luck stay on your side!)˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

“Hey! Hey- you guys aren't closing are you?” You hear a panting voice rush through the door- the complete opposite of the energy the cafe currently held. You and your coworker were just winding down from your shift, cleaning and making sure everything was restocked for the next shift, soft music aiding the mood. 

Sero was attempting to collect himself when he realized the two pairs of stunned eyes staring at him. 

“I just- I wanted to walk with you to class. If that’s cool,” he said to you, flattening his shirt down, “and maybe get a coffee.”

Warmth fills your face as you try to suppress a smirk, “in that order?”

The already flustered college student blushed just a bit harder. Before he could come up with a response, your smirk eased into a soft smile, “okay Sero, what could I get you to drink?”

He steps further inside and orders the same thing he got the first time: a large hot latte. It doesn't take long until the drink is in his hand and you're shooing him off to a table, “I’ll be done in like 10 minutes, is that alright?” you ask, hints of your customer service mannerisms kicking in. He nods and you get back to cleaning, unaware that your movements became a bit swifter. 

After clocking out, you’re met with an eager grin and a glint of something unnameable in sero’s eyes. 

“The coffee was excellent, by the way. Both times I had it. Do you do something to it? I feel like it’s so much more than just a simple latte.” 

You smile at two things, him opening the door for you, and the fact that he was absolutely oblivious to the fact that his drink is one of the few drinks you don’t add any magical properties to. 

“I make it with kindness.” You say as you two start your walk, intertwining your hands behind you.

“So mister Hanta… have you been stalking me?” 

His eyes grow wide as his cheeks taint red, “N-no! I just thought that maybe you work every shift that’s before our class.”

“Hmmm… So were you going to come by every day to test out your theory if i wasn't there today?”

“Well, luckily you were there, so I guess we’ll never know the answer.”

After you hummed out a response, the walk turned into a comfortable type of silent.

The both of you had several things passing through your mind, but outwardly, one was caught up basking in the fresh spring air while the other was admiring how the wind would slightly shift your hair.

Deciding to break the silence, you turned to face him, “Hey, so, why did you choose to take human sexuality?”

He didn't seem surprised to hear the question but he took a moment; it didn't seem like he was scrambling to find the perfect answer, it was almost like he just couldn't properly find the words. 

“Honestly, I love intimacy. I think its really cool that not one person’s views on sex and sexuality and the miniscule details within it, are the same.”

While the words you were hearing made sense, it must have shown that you weren't prepared for such an insightful answer because he let out a hearty laugh that seemed to go on and on, even after he took a deep inhale. 

“I’m sorry-” he choked out as he grabbed his chest, “your face just-” he gulped another breath of air, trying to regain composure.

Throughout his fit of laughter, you almost joined in a few times if it weren’t for you biting your cheek in attempts to keep the annoyed facade up. 

As soon as it seemed like he got it all out, you try to pull a convincing pout. 

“So what's the real answer, then?”

He cocks his head at your question, a smile still playing on his lips, “whaddya mean?”

“You're telling me that what you said wasn't just to catch me off guard?”

“Oh! No no, that's really why I'm taking the class. But i bet you thought i was going to say something asshole-y like ‘i just wanna learn more about sex so i could be better’, hm?” he said the last part in a dopey voice before smirking back at you.

You rolled your eyes in return, “not necessarily, that was just a really… refreshing… answer.”

By the time you got to class, it seemed pretty full, which was a bit odd seeing as though there was still some time before the lecture started. Part of you was hoping that you could snag a seat next to Sero or he could snag a seat next to you- but both of your usual seats were surrounded by others already. There was also always the possibility that maybe he didn't want to sit next to you; you didn't want to get your hopes up so you turned to him, waved goodbye, and headed to your normal seat. Unbenounced to you, he physically slouched in disappointment before heading to his spot.

The lesson went on, and while he wasn't crowding your mind today, you subconsciously kept stealing glances at him throughout the lecture in hopes that one of the times you'll find him glancing back at you. The only time you did catch him staring at you was with wide eyes when the professor announced that you two were going to be partners for the upcoming project.

“So I guess this means it's an appropriate time to ask for your number… I wanted to ask you for it but I didn't want to move too fast…?” he said as you two approached eachother after class, cracking a shy smile while he absentmindedly scratched the back of his neck, a subltle flex of his muscles on display. It was a bit hard to concentrate with a combo move like that attacking you, as if he was going in for the kill. 

“I wouldn't have thought it was too fast.” you softly counter, flashing him a tender smile.

It was one thing to feel the heat go to your face, it's another to visibly see it appear on his.

You both traded phones at the same time with the promise to text each other later that night; you put a little coffee emoji by his name while he put the sun next to yours.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚20 oz The Charismatic ! with hemp milk, iced; freshly brewed jasmine tea with a shot of our very own vanilla (liquid luck) to help your attitude and chances toward  any situation˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

Sitting at the furthest table away from the register, you start to unpack your laptop and make yourself comfortable- you're gonna be here a while. Powering up the device, Hanta pulls at the seat across from you and begins to mimic your movements. 

“So you want our first project meeting… at a coffee shop?” you start, trying to keep the smile from coming onto your face. Looking up at him would mean automatic defeat seeing as it's getting harder and harder for you to look at him without your lips twitching upward.

“I thought it would be very symbolic.”

A snort greeted both of your guy’s ears as your eyes went wide and your hands shot up to cover your mouth. “Anyway, so the project.”  Blushing around him was starting to become a regular occurrence, as well.

“Right,” he says clapping his hands and rubbing them together.

“So the project is to point out common sexual misconceptions and back it up with statistics and research articles. The fact that we got dibs on the misconception of the orgasm gap all because you had bragged about your personal sex life…” the thought alone shot a wave of warmth down your spine and right to your lower region. A flash of a Sero you hadn’t faced yet appeared in your imagination; him looking up at you, hungry and eager to please. It made your breath hitch. 

“Well, yea! I had to voice it. I mean, I feel like it’s common sense! When you have sex by yourself, then you can focus on what makes you feel good and what makes you cum. But when you’re with a partner…” he trailed off and your gaze snapped to him, “you should make sure they cum at least once before doing… whatever you two.. had.. planned on… doing.” Sero finished, his eyes flickered between your eyes and lips. 

Oh fuck. 

You felt yourself throb. 

“Y-yea! Uh I completely a-agree.” 

It’s almost as though he could tell that you were flustered so just to top it off, he smirked, “Good. I’m glad we’re on the same page.” before deciding to drop it and move on.

He took a sip of his drink and sighed, “You guys really do make the best coffee. I got the same thing as I did with your place and yet… I'm here longing for your coffee.” you snort once again.

After that, the conversation eased into the project and what exactly needed to be done; the assignment was very simple but sorting out what dates you guys were going to meet up and how exactly you were going to go about gathering the information was all crucial. The project was due in a month and needed to be submitted in powerpoint format- which the both of you were relieved about.

It was really cute seeing Hanta’s eyes all lit up when it came to the part of how you two were going to go about getting all the information needed. He even suggested to conduct a little side research if you guys were ahead of schedule. It was something that made your heart patter. It was almost like you had smelt some of the charmed rose petals from work because every time you looked at him, you couldn't stop the warmth that flooded in your chest.

With that thought, there was the fact that he was more than likely going to be spending large amounts of time at the cafe- would he notice? Should you just come straight out and explain it? Explain that you were considered a witch, someone who was open-minded and was in tune with their intuition and can work with certain herbs, charms, and spells to create wonderful things? It didn't seem that big of a deal to you, it was something you had grown up with; simple spells and practices that just made day to day life more simple. Not every witch has been through the same childhood you had, there’s no special school- not that you were aware of, anyway. Your parents kept their grimoire out in the open and let you frolic about as they eased basic wholesome rituals into your life, and when you got old enough, they let you take in chapter by chapter each spell they casted, each potion they brewed. 

When you applied at the cafe, your first interview was full of normal questions worded in a way that almost sounded like it had a double meaning, thankfully you caught it and later was asked for a second interview- conducted by the boss himself. He had asked you to perform a basic potion/drink you grew up with, something that made you feel like you were walking on air. It was simple; a butterfly pea tea with a breath of life, with just a little bit of lemon activated the spell in the brew. When the well made drink hit his tongue, he offered you the job not a second later.

No. You wouldn't tell Sero yet. It never came up; It’d be odd to tell him straight off the bat- there's really no need. If he ever asks… then you’ll tell him.

But he hadn't so far.

Each meeting so far felt incredibly productive. It seemed like getting work done came naturally, with the topic being easy to discuss between the two of you and getting the articles to support your claim was fairly simple- apparently a lot of studies have been done about people’s orgasms. 

Since drafting up a skeleton outline the first time meeting, the bits and pieces really started coming together, but the get-togethers sometimes didn't go as planned- however, what was a constant was that no matter what the meet-up consisted of, there would always be a paper cup from your work, filled with a hot latte.

Some of the days, rather than working on the project, the two of you would use the allotted time to sit in your cafe and goof off, or sometimes you would host “tea time” in your apartment and talk about anything and everything- and it was okay because very early on, you both gathered all the adequate articles that involved your topic and sifted through them to get the statistics you needed. Collecting the data was simple enough and putting it together just came easy to you. 

Looking up from your laptop, finally done with sorting all the cited sources in each slide, you wave your hand at Sero to get his attention. Hanta was working on phrasing the facts and statistics from each work, so when he tilted his head up, gaze still on the screen until he finished typing the last sentence, he took his headphones out and hummed as he looked at you. 

“You get the same thing everytime we’re together… why?” 

He glanced at his almost empty cup before fully taking out his headphones, “I get it all the time because it really is the best latte I've ever gotten from a cafe before. I tell you this all the time.” 

“You never… wanna try anything new?”

“Is there something in particular you want me to try?” he asks, quirking his eyebrow upwards.

“Well no, not necessarily…”

“Well then how about you give me a recommendation? What’s a drink you think I would love?” 

This one stumped you for a minute. Though the thought had crossed your mind quite often, you couldn't quite pinpoint which special drink he’d appreciate the most. Something warm… something reflecting how you feel about him.

“I think that you should get the Time Flies; it's this black tea latte with orange zest and it's really… cozy.”

“Okay, I'll try it the next time I go.” 

And he did. The first sip he took felt like smooth gold hitting his tongue. So warm and rich that it had apparently induced the vivid image of the sunset from his grandmother’s porch. He was remembering the orange glow of everything the light touched. The whole day, he was feeling incredibly nostalgic, he even did some of the things he used to do when he was a kid, like watch old black and white movies and make dinner with his mom (even if it was through a phone call).

He told you all of this with one of the most handsome smiles you've ever seen, and that's saying a lot.

˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚16 oz Love Me or Love Me Not with oat milk, hot; our very own pink rose syrup (enchanted candied petals inside and dried petals on top) steamed in the milk meets a double shot of espresso for a deep, sweet, cozy drink˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

 “So,” you start once everything is situated on your living room table, the two floor pillows that play hosts to your guy’s lower halves sit diagonal from each other.

“So.”

“Everything is practically done, I just wanted to… call this meeting so we could just quickly skim over it and see if there was anything in the powerpoint that needed fixing and or adjusting.”

“Very reasonable reason to call this meeting but both of us have been looking at this practically nonstop… so I’m pretty sure it's good.”

“Well it’s due next class and I know we finished it up a few a couple of days ago but… there is absolutely nothing wrong with striving for perfection. And if anything, I’m trying to save your reputation.” he choked at the accusation you were attempting to make, “Oh yea! How are you going to get away with making that bold statement in front of the class, do a whole project on it, and then just… have it not be anything short of jaw dropping?” you didn't even wait for him to speak, “exactly. Your rep is on the line, I'm just the sorry person who got stuck with you.” You smirk, driving your ludacris point home while crossing your arms over your chest. 

Scoffing, he leaned over and lightly shoved you, “we got to choose are partners for this project! You chose to be with me!” his cry caused a chuckle to fall from your mouth as you readjusted yourself onto your pillow, “that's neither here nor there.” you try your best snotty act as you stick your nose up in the air.

“Okay okay then, your grace, let us go over the powerpoint,” he jested along and gave you a slight bow.

After a quick runthrough, everything seemed spick and span, so the two of you became more relaxed and sunk into the larger floor pillows once again. 

“So… I noticed that you finally got something from your shop.” Sero gestured over to the other paper cup on the table. “I have never seen you with your own coffee before, why today?”

Your cheeks involuntarily began to heat up; the drink he was referring to was none other than the Love Me or Love Me Not. Usually, you never went out of your way to make it, but for the occasion, it was necessary. It was the last time you guys were going to meet up for the project and you just… had to know. 

Let it be known, messing with love potions wasn’t your forte, you preferred for everything romantic to be consensual and untampered with- that's why this brew in particular was one that you preferred out of all the ones that are out there. When made correctly, the person drinking it should be able to look at their crush (in person) and if the crush liked them back, then the drinker would get a fierce wave of goosebumps; if the person did not like them romantically, their head world ache for just a few minutes before going back to normal. Simple and effective, plus no one gets roughed up or drugged.

Not a single sip had been taken yet, you were on edge about the situation. This was the first time you had ever made it for yourself, and it was pretty nerve wracking to see if this man who you began harboring feelings for liked you the same. 

It’s surely gone cold by now but that wasn’t going to stop you. “Oh! Uh- I was just really craving this drink today.” You say lamely before bringing the cup to your lips and taking a gulp. 

The smell of rose hit your nose before you could register the taste. The evenly sweet syrup paired with the strong espresso danced on your tongue before you swallowed it. You softly sighed, it tasted delicious. Another sip slipped past your lips. 

A roll of relief cascaded through you when an intense wave of goosebumps rose on your poked at your skin, causing you to cough and sputter. Eyes going wide and squeezing shut as the coughs wracked through your body. 

He likes you.

While coming down from your fit, you semi glance at Hanta who had almost instantly appeared by your side, patting and gently rubbing your back. 

“Is there liquor in that?” He joked as he handed you your drink so you could have more liquid to ease your throat.

You shook your head after drinking some more and cracking a grin. It might’ve been too big of a smile for someone who just choked but you didn’t care. Sero Hanta… likes you. 

Unable to help it, you glance down at his lips only to realize how close he is. Your grin slowly drops, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Can I uh.. can I try your drink?” He says, face red with blush. 

As you go to hand him your drink, he leans in and cups your jaw- causing your whole body to still, even your heart stopped to join the languor.

 He peaks his tongue out to softly lap up a drop that must have been on your lip, before capturing your lips with his. 

It felt like your mind shut down, and all you can feel is how soft his lips are and how sweetly he’s kissing you. Almost hesitantly. 

He pulls away in attempts to find your gaze to decipher how you felt about it. 

Your breath is ragged as you look back at him- everything and nothing is going on in your head in that moment, unable to speak, until you see the goosebumps that coat his body. 

Your heart thumps impossibly faster as you realize that not only does he like you… but he truly believes. He believes in the two of you, he believes in love, and he believes in magic. 

Without another second to waste, you tackle him in a hug and find your lips on his in a way that you know you’ll never get enough of. 

special extra ! : you and Hanta in the fall- Season of the Witch with almond milk, hot; dirty chai latte with a bewitched cinnamon stick to help keep you warm ;) , even on the coldest of days ˚✧₊⁎⁺˳✧༚

The cold nips at your nose just as big hands nip at your waist, causing you to let out a noise between a squeak and a gasp. A flash of soft black hair blurred your vision before cold lips meet yours. “Hanta,” you sigh into the kiss before pulling away and giggling. 

You were heading back to your apartment after a day shift at work, the sky already becoming darker because of the autumnal equinox. 

“What are you doing? I thought I was gonna meet you at my place.” You say as your fingers intertwined and your step fell into pace with his. He pulled you closer so that you were basically leaning into him as you walked.

“You know those chocolate and pumpkin scones you baked for me? The special ones?” He quietly moaned. 

Your eyes go wide as he purposely guided your intertwined hands over his blatant bulge.

“Hanta you weren’t supposed to eat those until later, the spell usually kicks in within the next 30 minutes!” You giggle again. 

A few weeks after you two started officially dating, you formally sat him down and explained everything you didn't when talking about your guys’ past- the memories of frolicking through tall grass and talking to your mother’s familiar, to getting your job at the cafe. He told you that it was a lot to take in, but never did he push you away. When he went to the cafe, he was more observant. Somewhere in the months between June and July, he slowly became more and more interested in the rituals you would do and the potions you would make. He wanted to start joining in. Now in October, he loves seeing your crystals around your house and all the different herbs you grow in the sills of your window. When he found out that you could bake magical pastries with certain herbs, he almost immediately asked you to bake him some. At first, it started as something simple like a sage and rosemary savory loaf that helped cleanse your pallet of any negative energy. Then it started becoming more and more intricate, and that's how the two of you ended up here.

 “I know but fuck-- I was hungry and they looked so good, and now I’m hard and I need you.” he spoke lowly. 

This was going to be fun. 

The rest of the way, you were casually asking him things that shouldn't be heard in a public setting, “What is it you want to taste first, Hanta?”

“How badly do you want to fuck me into the mattress? Hm? Have your big cock stretch me out?”

“Wanna fill me up?”

By the time you both got to your apartment, there was no fumbling with the keys to get your door to open, you already had them out; getting through the door took three seconds tops. Next thing you know, your back was against the closest wall, your hands pulling at his tied up hair and scraping your nails against his scalp when the soft locks fell. One of his big hands lifted up a leg of yours and he groaned as he thrust upward against your heat.

“Fuck-” he panted into the kiss before trailing down your neck, still holding up one leg while the other hand finds itself under your shirt, his fingers hot to the touch. 

Releasing your leg and dropping to his knees, he looked up at you as he fumbled with the button of your pants. You lace your fingers in his hair, feeling him yank the material down your legs, tossing the one leg over your less dominant leg over your shoulder, and when a warm muscle hits your sopping clothed core, you pull his hair harder to apply more pressure.

“Look at me when I have you in my mouth, I wanna see how much you enjoy this.” 

You felt yourself clench, and apparently so did he, because a smirk grew on his lips. “Oh, you like when I say things like that?”

“H-hanta, please.. '' your voice wavered before you sucked in a sharp gasp. He had a finger, then two inside of you in no time, the other hand keeping the underwear out of the way so his lips could wrap around your clit.

He was pumping in and out of you faster and faster, occasionally switching the pace to unbearably slow and when you would whine, he’d tilt his head up, mid lick, to throw you a teasing glance before picking up the pace. He bagan curling his fingers, hitting a spot that had your eyes rolling and with the pressure building up, it had you panting out a breathy repetitive stream of his name. 

“‘M gonna cum Hanta, hh-” you moaned out before clenching your eyes shut, your body involuntarily shaking above him. And right below you, he was ready to lick up everything you had to offer.

Holding you steady as he came up to kiss you, your juices still on his lips, “you ready for me, sweetheart?” he asked when he pulled away. The short sobering moment hit as soon as he scooped you up and carried you to the bedroom, but after he tossed you onto the bed, the look he gave you as he was unbuttoning his pants drew your mind hazy again.

“Can't wait to pump you full of my cum, to have you a drooling mess because of my cock.” he huskily whispered, giving you so many delicious previews of how the night will go. “You want that, pretty? Use your words.” he said as he crawled over to you and caged you in. The scent of cedar wood and citrus clouded your senses.

“Yes please Hanta!” you whine, “wanna feel stuffed b’cause of your cum. Please fill me up--” you whimper out, cutting yourself off when you felt his leaky tip at your wet entrance. 

Just like each time you two have been intimate, he guides himself slowly until he's in to the hilt of his pelvis, “shit, squeezing me so hard- c-an i move?” he moans out. 

Unable to form coherent sentences, you frantically nod and squeak out, “yes!”

With your permission granted, he eases in a thrust before he starts snapping his hips into you.

“Fuck, look at you, milking my cock so good-” he moaned, as he leaned in and kissed you. Each sharp thrust jolted you upwards, proving just how powerful his thrusts were. You threw your arms around his neck for the slight stability.

You began to let out little moans into the kiss that spurr him further; everything was beginning to get to him. How tight you felt around him, the feel of your tongue against his, the sloppy wet noises of your cunt.

“I’m gonna cum-- i'm gonna cum!” he choked out. 

You clawed at his back while whimpering pleas for him to fill you up, “fill me up with your cum, your cock fills me so good, please Hanta, more- more!”

You were clenching around him hard, and to bring you right to his level, he found your puffy clit and began a quick circular motion that made your jaw go slack, causing more frequent clenches.

His mind blurred as he pushed himself the deepest he could, moaning out your name and a gruff curse before emptying himself into you. 

You felt him twitch inside of you right before hot seed coated your already warm walls, and that’s what pushed you into a convulsion of ecstasy. 

He lazily humped his hips into you as you rode out your high before pulling out and rolling next to you.

Calling out your name to bring your attention to him, he pulls you into his chest where you could feel his racing heart, “what if… I started singing that song from hocus pocus? You know the one..” 

What a goof, you thought to yourself, playfully smacking his chest as you roll your eyes, looking up at him. 

“I put a spell on you… and now you're mine…” you begin to whisper, earning a hearty laugh from you boyfriend.

Maybe it was mutual, but quite possibly he had put a spell on you. And you were more than okay with it.

[bluerosesburnblue]

I don't suppose you could explain the ending for khux for me?? i've watched it and i've been following the translated storyline for it and this ending just. does not make a ton of sense to me. i can usually figure out kh endings no problem but this time i'm just lost.

Isn't that just the state of the writing for it, where even people familiar with the series are having trouble understanding it. And, of course, the game dies as it lived: screwing over Global so we can't even compare/contrast with an official English version yet to see if it's more clear

Anyway, sure, I'll try to break it down scene by scene (Note: these aren't the actual scene titles, I just needed a way to delineate them so I made titles up)

Scene 1: The Master and Luxu

The update begins with a continuation of the past flashbacks expanding on the Case of Luxu and the Master of Masters' instructions to him. He explains that he knew that Darkness could only truly be defeated in the future, and so he made sure that Keyblade wielders would exist to fight it by recruiting many Keyblade wielders in Daybreak Town (as per the start of KHx) and then using the Dandelions to stall Darkness's takeover and give them time to make sure that the Keyblade legacy would live on. As Luxu turns to leave, though, the Master stops him with one more bit of information that he feels Luxu needs to know

He explains that back when he was younger, the being known as Darkness tried to gain the advantage in their battle by becoming incorporeal and attacking people's hearts instead of their bodies. There were 13 of these original Darkness beings, and because they lack bodies they aim to win by quantity and so created the Heartless as lesser, but more physical versions of themselves. The original 13 still haven't given up their desire to regain a physical form, however, and so they target those with strong hearts to take their bodies for themselves

The Master of Masters, knowing this and knowing that something without a physical body can't be destroyed, came up with a plan. He took in six children, his apprentices, and raised them to be a prison for Darkness. To foster light so strongly within them that Darkness couldn't possibly taint it, and then seal the strongest 7 of the 13 Darknesses within himself and his students, trapping the Darknesses inside their impenetrable hearts of light. Then, he instigated the Keyblade War. This is only my interpretation of the line, but it sounds to me like the purpose was to get the Foretellers killed in the War and the Darkness sealed inside of them along with them. How this relates to them coming back in KH3 is unclear

When Luxu asks if the War and the idea of a traitor were necessary, the Master goes on to say that the purpose of making the Foretellers believe there was a traitor was to instill negative emotions like fear and doubt in them. Darkness feeds on those emotions, and so by making sure that his students would produce them and yet not have their light tainted, he would attract Darkness into their hearts by giving it something to eat, only for it to realize that it was trapped in light that couldn't be consumed. The infighting amongst the Foretellers was bait to lock Darkness in their hearts the entire time

After that, there's only six left and so the Master chose five individuals, the Union Leaders, to be the uncorruptable lights that would house the weaker Darknesses. The final one, he would simply trap in the Data Daybreak Town

At this, Luxu flies into a rage at his master, angrily shouting that he can't possibly accept a plan that sacrifices so many people, but the Master stands up and starts talking over him. He's made it clear that he doesn't see Darkness as human, and he's seen this inhuman thing take countless lives, including people he's cared about. He doesn't believe them to be heroes, and he doesn't care. The entire purpose is just to ensure that in the end, humanity is what survives the war. He knows it's a tragedy, but for one who believes that tragedy can't be fully avoided, this is a solution that will at least save some

Luxu accepts this answer and leaves, but behind his back the Master muses on what Luxu, the traitor, needs to do. Luxu was the traitor from the lost page the entire time, given a role to take him out of the infighting so that his identity as the traitor wouldn't be discovered (or at least, that's how it seems to me considering that he needed the Foretellers to fear and doubt to attract Darkness to them)

Scene 2: Fleeing Daybreak Town

We now cut to the real Daybreak Town in the present, where Lauriam, Elrena, Ventus, and Brain have just emerged from the Data Daybreak Town into the real-world version of the lifeboat room. Daybreak Town is breaking down around them, about to be fully consumed by the aftermath of the Keyblade War which had been temporarily staved off while the Data simulation was running

Brain is attempting to enact his plan to extract all of the Dandelions from Data Daybreak Town and bring them into the real world, but he's worried that there won't be enough time to actually do it before the simulation shuts down and the real Daybreak Town is destroyed. The only thing he has time to do is get their three remaining friends (Ephemer, Skuld, and Player) out to the real world, and the only way that he can think to do this is to send Lauriam, Elrena, and Ven away to the future and to safety and then send the remaining lifeboats back into the datascape so that there's enough for the three trapped in there to use

Brain is willing to stay behind to man this operation, but he wants to ensure that at least one of the true Union Leaders (Lauriam) manages to live on in case things go wrong and save as many of them as he can, so those going to the future must be sent first. Lauriam, etching his mission to finally find Strelitzia (or even just her data) into his heart, departs with Elrena and Ven. Once they're gone, however, Brain notices someone enter the room and turns to find Luxu approaching him

Scene 3: Those Trapped in Data

We now cut to Player, Ephemer, and Skuld in the data version of the lifeboat room, contemplating how the others are doing. Just as they muse about how quiet the end of this world feels, Player turns to find that four of the remaining six Darknesses have entered the room (presumably the other two are the one sealed in Ven and the one that Luxu was fighting in the real world and who helped Maleficent, who seems to be gone by the time Brain and the others end up back in the real world)

The Darknesses, it seems, have come to politely ask the gang to open up a way out of the Data Daybreak Town for them, so that they can spread to other worlds. They don't want to fight, and obviously even if they did they'd win, so just open a gate for them to escape with already. They could always just take over Ephemer's friends and force him to watch as they rip them away until he complies

Ephemer mocks this and moves in to attack, but before he fully commits he whispers his plan to Player: he and Skuld will hold them off to buy time for Player to get into the last pod and run. To his shock, however, Player begins mimicking Darkness's speaking patterns and then goes to attack their friends. It seems that Darkness has done to Player what they did to Ven, taking them over and forcing them to act out. Player is now their bargaining chip; they'll only give Player back if Ephemer opens the gate. And since Darkness can only be defeated if it has a body, their options are to give in or destroy the possessed Player

This initiates the final boss fight against Ephemer and Skuld, Player's dearest friends who have been with them since before the war

And the duo prove no match for the Darkness-possessed Player, who taunts them about not just leaving when they had the chance. Ephemer begs his friend to stop as Player goes in to finish off Skuld, and in his desperation to protect one friend, he opens up the portal to Game Central Station and forces his fallen friend though. As it closes, Ephemer breaks down in tears, muttering apologies to the friend that he was unable to save

Scene 4: Luxu and Brain

We cut back to where we left off in Scene 2, with Luxu confronting Brain in the real lifeboat room. He introduces himself, and Brain is taken aback that one of the missing masters has finally returned. Luxu asks Brain if he's a Union Leader, and when Brain confirms that he is, Luxu then gestures to the missing pods and asks where the others are. Brain tells him that one escaped, and the other two are still trapped in the data. Luxu's confused; there should be five Union Leaders, but Brain only listed four. He asks what happened to the fifth, and Brain confirms that they were struck down

Luxu assumes that Brain is going to make his escape, but Brain denies this. They have a friend who he calls a Dandelion (even though Player did not consider themself one) who is trapped alongside the other two Union Leaders, and he intends to get all three out no matter what. Furthermore, Brain has no intention of using one of the real lifeboats. Rather, he has resigned himself to staying behind in the past and finding some way to survive the end of the world to eventually extract the rest of the Dandelions from the data as well, and wake them from their data sleep

Luxu, however, has some bad news. While normally that would be true, the Data Daybreak Town was designed to lock Darkness away. Once it's locked up, nothing will ever be able to get out of it again. If anything could get out, then Darkness would as well. It was meant to be a grave for an intangible being

Not only that, but Luxu expresses doubt that Brain has properly prepared for his friends who use the lifeboats to awaken in the future. What does Brain plan to use for mediums? Who are the memories going to come from? Brain doesn't have an answer, but he has to do this and he's willing to put his life on the line for it

This seems to earn Luxu's respect

Scene 5: The Two Who Remain

We now resume with Ephemer and Skuld in the data lifeboat room, having just sealed Player away. The two real pods that weren't used yet are digitized and sent to Ephemer and Skuld to use for their escape. Ephemer picks up the weakened Skuld and places her in a lifeboat, then looks forlornly over to the one on the other side of the room. The one meant for Player. Then he reclines back into his own pod and the two leave the Data Daybreak Town

Scene 6: "You're So Gullible"

We now join Player inside of the familiar tunnel that joined the Data Daybreak Town to Game Central Station

The four Darknesses swarm around Player, commending them for goading Ephemer into being desperate enough to open up a gateway for them, implying that Player was at least partially in control by the end of the fight. In a bizarre way, they seem to be trying to help Player as they warn them they must cast off their body if they don't want to be destroyed by the simulation shutting down

Player laughs

They ask if Darkness is always this easy to trick. After all, it can't go anywhere without a Keyblade and without a body it can't use one, either, which is why it needed one of them to open a path for it. Player turns, and locks the end of the pathway that leads to Game Central Station. And since Ephemer sealed the Data Daybreak Town end when he cast Player and the Darknesses through the portal, all five of them are now trapped in this space between worlds on the cusp of shutting down along with Data Daybreak Town. This was Player's plan all along, opening their heart up just enough for the four Darknesses to try and use them as a host and then provoking their friends into sealing them away and taking Darkness with them

Darkness flies into an anger-fueled frenzy but is unable to do anything to escape. Player collapses, and Chirithy appears. Petting them much like they did during the Keyblade War, Player apologizes for forcing Chirithy to be sealed away with them since their hearts are bound. Chirithy shakes their head, signaling that they don't hold it against Player, and the two go in for a final hug and are bathed in light

Scene 7: The Destruction of Daybreak Town

Back in the real lifeboat room again, Ephemer and Skuld emerge and are met with blaring sirens signaling that the world is at its end. The other are gone, including Brain and Luxu, and the two have no idea what happened to them (or that Luxu was involved). They simply hope that they made it out safely, and decide to check outside just to see what's going on

They're met with the destruction of Daybreak Town. Smoke is everywhere, the sky is red, and pieces of debris are being drawn into a swirling dark orb in the sky not unlike the destruction of Destiny Islands from KH1. Ephemer decides that they need to leave, now, and Skuld muses about how it takes a lot of time and effort to build something, but none at all to destroy. The two retreat back into the lifeboat room to make their exit

Scene 8: The Master's Plans

We now cut to our final continuation of the flashback of Master of Masters' talk with Darkness from before he disappeared

Darkness muses that it truly does not understand the Master of Masters at all. The Master asks if it wants to, and Darkness replies with a very clinical, "Yes, understanding your enemy is important." The Master muses if it means all of the Darknesses or just the one who is speaking, and Darkness states that it's speaking for all of them

The Master muses for a bit about how small worlds are easy to control. If this small world simply expands gradually over time, then eventually there will become parts of it that the light can't reach, but Darkness will have free reign over anywhere it pleases (much like real light can only shine so far, and anywhere it doesn't reach is filled with shadow). This skews everything in Darkness's favor when vying for control and is precisely what would happen if the world of the Age of Fairtytales continued to expand

Darkness simply notes that of course it will always be around, that's what "friends" do, but the Master says that sometimes he'd like to be left alone. And so, to get away from Darkness, he plans to flee to a world that Darkness does not know about. One where neither Darkness nor Light can be controlled. Darkness asks what this world is, and the Master says that humanity, even if their lives end, want to believe in a world that exists for them in the future. For him, this is a world of fiction and imagination. This implies that he plans to flee into the world of Quadratum, the fictional world that we learned about in Melody of Memory that exists on the other side of the "real world"

Darkness is clearly lost as it asks if he's talking about the Data World. The Master simply says that even if it started out as fiction, you can make it real. But he won't explain any more. After all, the point is that this is a world that Darkness doesn't know about. It cannot reach it, even if it tried

Of note is that he mimics what the illusory Xehanort remarks about Sora in Melody of Memory by calling this a place where neither your "eyes nor voice" can reach, much like Sora's voice could not reach Kairi in The Final World from Quadratum. His final description of it is as "a world of [symbol]." It's unclear if this is an actual term that is unpronounceable and unspeakable in-universe, or if this is simply done to censor the word for the players

Scene 9: Goodbye

We once again return to the real lifeboat room amidst the destruction of Daybreak Town. As she gets into her pod, Skuld starts sobbing and thanks Ephemer through her tears for staying with her until the end. Ephemer tells her that she can't give up until it's all over. As he goes into his pod, he flashes back to all of the time that he spent with Player, and mutters their name through his tears as their pods close and the room caves in around them

(AND THIS IS WHERE IT SHOULD'VE ENDED BECAUSE IT WAS ACTUALLY PRETTY GOOD UP TO THIS POINT BUT HERE WE GO)

Scene 10: Where Do Dream Eaters Come From?

Player and Chirithy are floating in a white void alongside all of the other Dandelions that were trapped in the Data Daybreak Town and their Chirithies. Some of them are familiar faces, like the "My friends aren't my power" kid and the squad of four kids that Player had befriended and their ex-teammate. As Player awakens, they watch these sleeping Dandelions revert to the forms of hearts that are then eaten by those Chirithies, transforming them into the Spirits seen in Dream Drop Distance

Player's Chirithy explains that because Chirithies are bonded to their Keyblade wielder's heart, they take on a state to match their wielder. If the wielder dies, so do they. And if the wielder falls into a deep sleep, they take on a stronger form to protect it

Contrary to what the fandom is saying, NO, Spirits aren't dead Keykids. Rather, the Chirithies are simply taking their sleeping hearts into their bodies and transforming into a stronger form to keep them safe. This is only my assumption, but I would assume that this is possible since they don't technically have bodies anyway, having been digitized. Therefore, their body-less hearts would otherwise have been sent directly to sleep with no protection, hence the Chirithies moving in

Now, this still doesn't make sense regarding Dream Drop Distance by overriding the lore that all Dream Eaters are simply the form that Darkness takes in Sleeping Worlds, which made sense from a metaphorical perspective of "you sleep at night which is dark, so dreams are darkness and both good and bad dreams are made of the same stuff." And also you can totally craft Spirits and have them explode if they take too much damage, all with zero indication that a keykid heart was involved in the creation process or released on destruction, but whatever, let's just move on

Player asks if this is what will happen to them and their Chirithy, and Chirithy responds that they have a choice. If Player doesn't want to go to sleep, then their heart will be broken down and reconstructed as an entirely new heart to live a new life

Smash cut to an unfamiliar town where a woman in purple with black hair and silver eyes hand over what is obviously a baby Xehanort to a hunched figure in a blue cloak, holding a cane. She sobs. Cut again to the figure in blue holding baby Xehanort standing on Destiny Islands' play island. Cut once more and Xehanort is now his teenage self from Dark Road on the beach of the play island. The figure in blue is standing on the ledge behind him, and as Xehanort stands up to walk to the shoreline, the figure collapses onto the ground. Xehanort does not notice this. Two more cuts, this time to the day that Xehanort found himself in Scala ad Caelum and a chess match with Eraqus

We return to Player, who closes their eyes peacefully and decided to move on to another life. Chirithy is confused, but goes in for a final hug as both of them dissolve into light, Player's heart flying off into the white void

The implication of all of this being that not only did Player reincarnate as Xehanort, introducing reincarnation into a series that it has never been a part of and overcomplicating the lore even worse, but that Xehanort isn't even from Destiny Islands in the first place, invalidating nearly all of his character motivation from the series

This is so bad that it deserves its own post though, so we're moving on

Credits Roll: Scenes From the Game Play Over It

Post Credits: Aftermath

We find our scene in a vast expanse of water, littered with debris. A lone lifeboat floats amongst the rubble. Some houses from Daybreak Town can be seen partially submerged, setting this after its destruction. The lifeboat comes to a stop and opens up, revealing Ephemer's silhouette. He looks around

It's unclear why Ephemer seems to have landed so far back in the past compared to the others, though some people have noted that he also doesn't appear to have lost his body, so it could be that his pod simply didn't activate (note how we only saw it close, not disappear into light like Lauriam and crew's) and that Ephemer didn't time travel at all but simply rode out the destruction of Daybreak Town inside the lifeboat

We see a rendition of the scene from KH2 where Diablo the raven brings Maleficent's cloak to the three fairies and she revives, showing that this scene was, indeed, her coming back from her time travel adventure

Lauriam wakes up in the field of flowers from Dwarf Woodlands, and looks confused and startled as a white butterfly flits about him. The flowers clearly a nod to his element among the Organization

Elrena is shown still unconscious along the cliffs that lead to Maleficent's castle in Enchanted Dominion. Much like Lauriam, her element is represented in the thunderstorm that rages around her

Ventus is shown unconscious in the Keyblade Graveyard, and a silhouette approaches him. Many believe this to be Xehanort finding him, though as of now the figure's identity is unconfirmed

We cut to a scene of Luxu dragging the black box behind him in the Keyblade Graveyard, much like a certain scene from the end of Back Cover. However, this time the scene continues and he removes his hood to reveal Brain's face. The implication here is that after Scene 4 above, Luxu took Brain's body as the first of many that he would steal to prolong his own life. This is why neither of them are seen when Ephemer and Skuld emerge from the datascape; Luxu has already taken Brain's body for his own and made his escape to survive the destruction of the world with the black box

We get a title card, but are treated to one final scene. Brain wakes up (sans hat) in the same town that we saw baby Xehanort being given away in. A hooded figure in strange garb arrives, holding Brain's hat, and asks if he is Brain. At Brain's confirmation, the figure returns the hat and introduces themself as Sigurd (a Norse mythology name much like the other Scala ad Caelum characters so far). They seem to have been waiting for Brain and report that they found him into an earpiece of sorts

Brain is understandably confused, and Sigurd explains that they know of the Brain who escaped Daybreak Town's destruction and that he would appear in this spot on this day. Brain panics, realizing that he doesn't know where any of his seven other friends are and if they made it to safety. Sigurd tells Brain that he's the only one who made it to this spot. Brain, utterly crushed that all of his friends have seemingly perished, listlessly follows Sigurd as Sigurd leads him to their headquarters

On the way there, however, something catches Brain's eye. He sprints to the fountain and looks up at something that's not in the frame in shock. Sigurd explains that this is a statue of this town, Scala ad Caelum’s founder (so Xehanort's actually from Scala...) and the first ever Keyblade Master, Master Ephemer. The camera pans up to show the statue of Ephemer as we know him holding the Master Keeper Keyblade that he got from Brain

Brain is overcome with emotions, and through his tears states that he knows exactly who that is. That's his best friend, and he's so proud of him for rebuilding

This is just my speculation, but what I believe is going on in the final scene with Brain is that when Luxu took his body, he ejected Brain's heart from it. A lifeboat wasn't used up, so Luxu must have either used time travel on his own to send Brain's heart to the future or simply left Brain's heart stranded and waiting in the ruins of Daybreak Town. This would let Luxu have his body, but Brain's stranded heart could make a new one with the proper resources in the future like the other hearts sent via the pods. That's what I think the focus on the hat is about. Luxu is shown without it after he takes Brain's body, and Sigurd has it. So my assumption would be that the hat was the medium used to bring Brain's body back like Maleficent's cloak was for her. It’s possible that Luxu set this up, but I can’t confirm. As for the memories, I couldn't say

I would also speculate that this scene takes place a decent amount of time before Dark Road, since Eraqus has been implied to be a descendant of Brain due to their similar looks. If Brain is in Scala ad Caelum in the past, then he could easily be the grandfather that Eraqus mentioned

My final bit of speculation is that the reason Sigurd and crew know who Brain is is because Ephemer, the founder of Scala ad Caelum and the inheritor of the Book of Prophecies, likely saw when Brain would emerge and set up a system to take care of him, knowing that he wouldn't survive to see him again

Apologies for the length, the ending was 40 minutes long. But, hopefully, I've made it clear which scenes are connected to which and what is actually happening. If it wasn't actually clear, there's two flashback sequences involving the Master of Masters that take place before KHx, the scenes in the data and real lifeboat rooms are running concurrently with each other (Brain and Luxu are having their conversation at the same time as Player is being possessed by the Darknesses, etc.) and everything else is roughly chronological with the exception of the scenes where Maleficent, Lauriam, Elrena, and Ven are revived after time traveling. Lauriam, Elrena, and Ven's scenes all must take place sometime before or around BBS (Lauriam and Elrena for their ages to match up, Ven because he's in BBS). Maleficent's is at the beginning of KH2