#also this is... a LOT longer than i expected it to be... almost 2k words O_O

[ghostieagere]

I usually don't ask...

But i tonight my legs hurted so much at each movement i did and i couldn't calm down...

Can you write about Mountain having problems with his legs but not wanting to ask for help because he's strong enough (he's the one who care about everyone not the one to care about, he can't be weak,no?) to deal alone with that, suffering in his room till Aether founds him?

[i dont know if it's a good idea for writing but... feel free to ignore this 🥺, sorry to bother]

hi, loves <3 i'm sorry to hear both of you have been having a rough time recently :( hopefully this can help you both a tiny bit <3 (and you aren't bothering me at all, anon !!)

cw: mountain struggles to walk, severe leg pain, mountain loves fried rice, brief mention of accidentally skipping a meal, regressed (child, not toddler) mountain, cg aether. mightn't be the easiest read for littles.

~

The hill leading up from the greenhouses to the Abbey is a decent size. Mountain has never really thought of it as big, but he knows the littles get adorably exhausted trying to climb back up it at the end of a long, exciting da with him in the greenhouses. He always delights when their faces light up after he offers them a piggyback. When it's him who's struggling to climb back up the hill with no one to offer their help however, he thinks it's much less adorable.

Each step he takes has his knees screaming at him for putting them under so much pressure, joints wobbling dangerously in their sockets as he moves forward and upward. The path under his feet is slippery with loose stones and gravel, which means that with his weakened legs, every step he takes sends him sliding back another two. It's always an impossible task getting back to the Ministry on a bad pain day, but Mountain doesn't remember ever having quite this much difficulty, even when he regresses.

Speaking of, as he gets more and more frustrated for not being able to make his way up the hill, he feels his mind slipping slowly into a horribly familiar void of fog and annoyance; a mirror of his actions when his legs give out under him and he slides back to the bottom of the hill, all his progress lost. Again.

He tries again and again, and each time ends with him falling flat on his face, knees giving out from underneath him as he cries out in pain over and over again. Once it's clear he's not going to make it if he walks, he tries crawling up, but the path is so rocky that he scrapes his hands and knees barely five metres into his attempt.

He curses himself for not bringing his crutches or his cane down to the greenhouses with him earlier. Not that they would be much good on the sliding, unstable gravel, but maybe if he'd been using them during the day, his legs wouldn't have become this painful. Alas, his imposter syndrome never stops reminding him that he doesn't need mobility aids all the time, therefore he shouldn't be allowed to use them at all. It's a thought process he's trying to break, but he never seems to have much luck with it. One day he'll be able to break it, and he can only hope that day comes soon; he's getting tired of having to spend his nights alone in a freezing greenhouse.

He sighs, tears of annoyance in his eyes as he slowly makes his way back into the main greenhouse. His knees buckle and legs give out under him at least twice, but the earth ghoul is so exhausted from trying to climb back up the hill that he can barely keep track of putting one foot in front of the other, let alone how many times he wobbles on his feet.

Once he's inside the greenhouse, he collapses, sobbing. He hadn't properly registered it while he was walking, but now that he's stopped, he hurts. His knees ache, feeling like they're on fire and pressed up against dry ice all at once, the hot and cold mixing not to create a perfect balance, but a hellscape of pain and sensation. Once the sobs subside, Mountain crawls very slowly over to his makeshift bed on the greenhouse floor and tries to get comfortable; this happens often enough that he's had to create a space that's comfortable enough for him to sleep on several nights a week.

The bed is a humble thing. Straw, spare bags of fertiliser and layers hessian bags make up the mattress, and Mountain has brought down his least favourite pillows and blankets to keep him relatively comfortable throughout the long, painful nights. Usually, this is fine, but the fog clouding his brain hasn't gone away—if anything, it's getting stronger with every movement of his legs that shoots pain right through his whole body—and all he wants is comfort; his favourite blankets, his non-lumpy pillows, maybe even the weight and warmth of that microwavable plushie Sunshine bought for him the other week.

He sighs. Wishing for any of these things won't make them magically appear. He'd better get as comfortable as he can with what he's got here. As soon as he tucks himself into the bed, pulling the scratchy blankets up to his neck, his stomach rumbles. He's hungry; hasn't eaten since breakfast, accidentally continuing his work in the greenhouse well into the afternoon until it was too late to go back up for lunch. It's a choice he's really starting to regret now. Unable to climb the hill and return to the Ministry, Mountain won't be eating tonight. He lets out a decidedly kit-like whine at this realisation; normally he'd be embarrassed but since there's no one around to hear or help him, he can't find it in himself to care.

When another rumble sounds from his stomach, he wraps his arms around his middle and curls in on himself, crying quietly. He's all alone, and no one's going to come help him. Even if they did, how could they help? He's in too much pain, he's crying, and everything is so big and so much that he can barely stand to think about it, let alone handle it.

He's so in his head, vision so blurred by his tears and hearing obscured by the sound of his sobbing, that he doesn't notice Aether until the quintessence ghoul is crouched right in front of him.

"Oh, eden, what am I going to do with you, hmm?"

"Ae– Aether...?" Mountain doesn't want to sound too hopeful. He's partially convinced that the ghoul in front of him is some hallucination provided by his mind to give him some comfort. Either that or the fumes from the fertiliser are starting to get to him.

"I'm here, sprout," Aether assures him, reaching out to gently caress the earth ghoul's cheek. "I'm here."

Mountain breaks down all over again, sobbing so hard that his head begins to hurt. He's so relieved that someone is here. He's not going to be left alone. He's safe now.

"M– My legs are hurting and I– I couldn't get up the hill and then I am crying and– and– and–" He cuts himself off, heaving big breaths in between his sobs and sniffles.

"Hey, shh, love. Slow down, one thought at a time, little eden," Aether reminds him. "Breathe with me, c'mon. Yeah, that's it, love, iiiiiiiiiiin." Aether inhales slowly, and Mountain does his best to mirror the quintessence ghoul's actions. "And now we breath ooouuut..."

Mountain lets go of his breath in a huff, making Aether chuckle.

"You need to breathe out a bit slower than that, eden. As slowly as we did when we breathed in. D'you want to try again?"

Mountain nods, biting his lip as he stares up at Aether.

"Okay, follow my lead again. That's it." Aether leads the two of them through the cycle of in's and out's as many times as it takes for Mountain's tears to slow and for his breathing to even back out. When they're done, Aether smiles at him widely and leans down to press a gentle kiss to Mountain's forehead. "Well done, little eden. I know you're hurting, and you're being so brave."

Aether's praise brings tears to his eyes all over again, and he only just manages to keep them from spilling over. "Th– Thank you, Aethy..."

"You're welcome, love." Aether kisses his forehead again, pulling a quiet laugh out of Mountain. "And, oh!" Aether exclaims suddenly. "I almost forgot! I brought something for you, love."

Mountain cocks his head in question, his eyebrows furrowing as he tries to imagine what Aether could have possibly brought.

The quintessence ghoul reaches behind him and pulls out a tupperware container and a fork. Mountain's eyes widen and he sits up immediately. "You broughted food?"

Aether hums the affirmative and opens the lid to show the little earth ghoul the contents of the container. "Rain and Cirrus made fish, but I know that's not really your favourite, so I swiped some fried rice from the main kitchens."

Mountain barely lets Aether finish his sentence before he's grabbing the container and messily scooping the dinner into his mouth. "Iths good Aef!" He says, grinning around a mouthful of rice.

Aether smiles. "I'm glad. I figured you'd be hungry, you skipped lunch, eden."

Mountain has the good sense to look ashamed as he swallows his rice. "I know... Wan'ed to finish my plant things... 'M sorry, Aethy."

Aether hums and reaches out to stroke Mountain's hair softly. "I know your plants are important, but you're important too, little eden. You gotta take care of yourself as well as your plants, even if it's hard."

"M– Maybe," Mountain considers. "Maybe if I had comed up for lunch, I would not be stuck in here now...?"

"Maybe," Aether says. "But it's best to not think about what might have happened, yeah? Better to think about what's happening now, love."

"Well, I have got my rice and my itchy blankets and my Aether now," Mountain grins. "But I do not have, um... Being warm...?"

"You don't have being warm?" Aether clarifies, clearly amused as he continues carding his fingers through the little earth ghoul's hair.

"I don't have being warm!" Mountain repeats. "I wanna go in the warm, but I can't go up the hill..." He can feel the pout in his voice as he leans into Aether's hand on his head.

"Well..." Aether starts. "How about I carry you up the hill?"

Mountain gapes. "You can do that?"

Aether assures him that he can, pretending to flex his muscles and making Mountain giggle uncontrollably. "I know the hill's very steep, but if we need, I can get someone else to come down and we can carry you up together, okay?"

Mountain nods, already excited by the prospect of not having to spend the night in the cold, damp greenhouse. "Can I eat my rice more when you carry me?"

"If you can hold onto me and eat your rice at the same time, you can absolutely eat the rest of your rice as we walk up," Aether assures him. "But if you can't hold on, you need to promise me that you'll drop the rice, okay? I'd rather have to clean up rice than clean my little eden up from off the ground."

"I can do that!" Mountain says enthusiastically. "Do I drop the fork too?"

Aether nods. "You're all over this, love! A master of fork and rice safety, that's what you are."

Mountain grins and puffs out his chest proudly, holding his arms out ready for Aether to pick him up.

"This might hurt a bit while I get your legs in a comfy position, okay, little eden?"

Mountain nods, wincing as his legs change position when Aether gets his hands under the little earth ghoul's armpits and lifts. He lets out a quiet cry of pain as Aether repositions him in his arms, but once he's settled, the pain disappears. Without the warmth of his blanket covering him however, he starts shivering in the quintessence ghoul's arms.

"You ready to go, love?"

Mountain nods, burrowing further into Aether's arms for warmth while simultaneously still trying to eat his fried rice.

Aether laughs affectionately at his antics. "You comfy now?"

"Uh huh. 'S good."

"Great! Alright, my little eden. Let's go get you warmed up."

[kalimarinus]

offerings from the unnamed.

[ summary : a mystery person is leaving gifts for 141? ]

[ relationships : tf141 x gn!reader (platonic) ]

[ warnings : 3rd person & 2nd-ish pov , gn reader 🤍 , use of y/n (your name) & c/n (codename/callsign) , unedited & not proofread , i know nothing about the military once again ]

[ word count : 2,392 ]

[ notes : back after another long while , yeah!!! this was fun <3 i can't believe this is 2k words what ?!@?!>@/ that's longer than my previous fic & this was just like a spitball idk..., also the 141 might just have memory loss why is everyone forgetting everything!! (y'all idk why i got so into it w gaz and price's section like why is it so long and soap and ghost's are so short???. but more the merrier, right...?) ]

John Price:

he was pretty surprised at first, he did not expect to see a bouquet of roses on his desk. though, he doesn't question it? 

—until he walks up closer to examine the flowers, just to see a little tag with a note on it that reads: 'for my favorite captain. -a/n.'

now he's a little confused. could it be one of his sergeants? his lieutenant? hell, it could be so many other people.

the only hint is the handwriting. he swears he can recognize it. 

but suddenly price reminds himself he actually has work, so never mind the flowers, for now, he needs to get back to doing his paperwork and such. 

as he works away and whatnot, the thought of the roses is lingering in the back of his mind and slowly creeping up to the front, and he can't seem to ignore the questions.

"why roses?" "whose handwriting is that? i swear i know it." "for me? why not anybody else?"

he's utterly perplexed at this point, so he quickly finishes up whatever he needs to do and turns to the bouquet he left sitting on the other side of the desk long ago.

after many, many minutes of just trying to grasp the mysterious person whose handwriting looks the same as on the tag, he gives up.

gives up on trying to figure out this anonymous roses bullshit by himself, anyway. the captain goes to his two closest buddies, unsurprisingly nikolai and laswell.

he questions them, he tells them everything. to the point he walked through the door and saw the bouquet and to the point where he was now asking them for 'help'. but it just ends up being just a lot more questions and inevitably no answers.

he goes to his lieutenant. his two sergeants. nothing.

now he gives up fully. nobody knows anything about this or who it might be. not him, his best friends, or his own task force.

time passes quickly until it's the end of the day (and he's surprised he's almost spent hours trying to figure this puzzling gift out), and he's trying to come to terms with this.

'it's intended to be anonymous, he shouldn't be trying to figure this out, and he shouldn't lose sleep over this.' is what he tells himself when he gets back to his barracks.

he looks down at the mysterious bouquet in his hand that never had left him alone since he'd come across it, like a fungus that had grown on a damp and and won't let go, and he lets out a sigh.

but john supposes he doesn't mind keeping it. if it really is someone he's friends with (which he's sure), he shouldn't just throw it away. he'll keep it.

which is what he does. preparing and cleaning a random glass jar big enough to fit the flowers, found somewhere around his barracks. it's now put to better use instead of just collecting dust, now filled up with water, the stems of the roses inside.

he sets it on the nightstand next to his bed, and for some reason the room feels a little more homey. oh and don't forget the tag, which he sets next to the jar of blossoms, just in case he does remember who's handwriting that is, he'll be 100% sure who it is and won't be doubting himself if he checks it.

he has come to terms with it now. he's comfortable in bed and he won't be asking himself or anyone else questions that'll lead to nothing. he's sure the one who gave him the bouquet will reveal themselves soon enough. like he told himself, 'he won't lose sleep over this.'

and he is about to drift off into sleep— until suddenly he remembers, and he jolts, sitting up.

he turns his head to look at the roses as his brain is overwhelmed with inquiry. price knows who it is. it's c/n. it's y/n. and now he just has more questions, some the same as previous ones but with the added confusion that it's you that got the flowers for him.

he is going to lose sleep over this after all.

Johnny 'Soap' MacTavish:

when soap first heard about the captain's situation, he thought it was hilarious. he got roses from an unknown individual? that's silly. he almost even started laughing seeing price so frustrated and baffled over a bouquet of plants.

though, after he said he didn't know anything about any flowers and price walked away in disappointment to go question his other sergeant, perhaps he was a little jealous. don't look at him like that. what's so wrong about maybe wanting a secret admirer?

unbeknownst to him, he would get a gift of his own in no time. when he got to the mess hall, he immediately spotted a box of something right on his table. he quickly went to the seat he always sits at, because of course he has a specific place to eat every day— and he hopes it isn't too obvious to the other soldiers nearby that he's resisting the urge to dash over and admire the supposed present.

when he finally gets to see the gift up close, he practically has stars in his eyes. the note on top of the box catches his eyes first before anything, a simple sentence of 'heard you had a sweet tooth.' typed on the printed out paper.

he has to resist a giddy grin creeping onto his face as he carefully slides the note aside, looking at the box of assorted chocolates in front of him. ultimately, he breaks, and a smile is instantly plastered on his face, already taking one of the sweets and plopping it into his mouth, humming contentedly.

he has the urge to dig into all of them because the candy is remarkably delicious and has his body tingling with dopamine, but fights it and chooses on savoring the gift, taking time to relish in each pieces' flavor.

he enjoys the way the first layers of chocolate slowly melts on his tongue and the taste of the equally chocolate-y syrup inside hits him like a freight train— it makes him appreciate the person who gave him this even more so.

don't worry though, johnny isn't too greedy. he saves the other half of the box for later.

eventually, he does lift his glued-on gaze from the gift to around the mess hall. though, he's met with the other soldiers giving him weird looks. and it does look kind of odd to be fair. a grown man, another soldier, in the mess hall eating a randomly fancy box of chocolates by himself.

despite the little awkward situation and the slightly unpleasant, silent walk out of the mess hall with the box in hand, you know he's walking around with a broad grin on his face for probably the next few days.

Kyle 'Gaz' Garrick:

to him, the similar occurrence between his captain and sergeant friend was strange. he'd heard identical stories from both of them now— the same concept of a mysterious offering given to them by a mysterious person.

he was wondering if the lieutenant got one too, and just hadn't told anyone. he was also questioning if he would get one as well. was this individual giving gifts to everyone in the task force?

well, he'd find out soon enough. the answer is most definitely yes.

he'd been dragged away by soap just right after a briefing, into a mostly empty hallway. and after a measly, short conversation and or slight argument about why gaz had been dragged here in the first place, and also why soap looked like he was holding in a giggle fit, the latter pulled out a box from his pocket. so he is getting a gift as well— same note and everything.

soap explains that he'd been requested by this 'anonymous person' to deliver him one as well, like a damn messenger pigeon.

so gaz takes the container carefully in hand before soap snickers and scurries away to do whatever.

he's pretty interested in what's inside as he properly takes a look at it. the box is flatter than your average box, black and sleek with of course, a small, yellow sticky note taped on top. 'this is one of our favourite memories. -unknown.'

he glances around the empty hallway for a moment, feeling a bit weird standing in a quiet hallway, opening a present by himself, alone. but nevermind that— he opens it, and kyle is met with.. a necklace. a silver necklace with a heart locket attached to the bottom.

he moderately cocks his head at the sight of the locket, then picks the necklace up with his right hand, the box still resting on the surface of the other. he opens the heart and squints, a mini photograph of himself and.. another recruit, wearing a mask, so he couldn't see their face. his hand was slung over their shoulder and they were doing the same to his, and despite them covering their face, he could still see a small smile on their face and his own.

he can remember this. he thinks he knows this. it was a group photo of the whole task force. there's the other soldiers in this photo too, but the photo is cropped in a way that you can only see him and the other comrade.

but he doesn't seem to.. remember who he was next to? something in his memory is bugged, like when you forget that one word but you also somewhat remember at the same time, or you forget what you were going to say while having a conversation with somebody.

it almost makes him as frustrated as price when he got his gift, but he wants to push those other emotions aside and just focus on the gratefulness he feels. to be honest he adores the necklace. he's sure he would think it suits him if he wore it and looked in the mirror.

and the picture.. he's still thinking about it. still looking at it. he finds the memory charming and sweet, even if he can't remember this soldier properly. he likes the way he can still see both of the happiness and smile in their eyes despite how tiny the image is. he likes the way he can see the shine and colour in their eyes in the dim light where the photo was taken.

the more he admires the jewelry the more he falls in love with it. the more he wants to cherish it and the mysterious fella who has gifted it to him.

after a lot of staring, and smiling at the present in hand, he finally closes the locket and slips the necklace on, briefly feeling the cold silver around his neck before it turns warm from his body heat.

and then he just walks off casually just like soap, who's probably waiting around the corner to ask "what'd you get?"

he now holds the box close to his chest as if he might keep that too, nearing the end of the hallway.

kyle's mind goes to the photo again, and his brain starts whirring with the thoughts of who it is.

but he's sure he'll remember later. he'll know who the person is soon enough, maybe if he sees them walking through the halls with that same mask. but either way, he knows he'll remember, and he'll thank them for this gift.

Simon 'Ghost' Riley:

now, he already knew he was going to get a gift as well, seeing as everyone in the task force but him has gotten at least something. he's heard price's predicament, johnny entering a briefing a little too happily with small bits of chocolate syrup near his lips, and kyle proudly walking around base wearing a necklace.

but he has some assumptions that the person didn't get anything for him. he's.. well, simon 'ghost' riley, after all. spooky, intimidating to most, tall dude.

but it seems his assumptions were incorrect, because he came back to his barracks after somewhat of a rough mission just to notice a a small, dark box oddly left on top of one of the shelves near his bed.

after easily retrieving the container, he examines it— and there's the typical 'note' from them, a few words written on top of the lid with a white marker. it reads, 'saw this and it reminded me of you. from a soldier friend of yours.'

.. but what if this 'soldier friend' has actually left a bomb inside of this? will it explode right now? a spy camera? is anybody watching?

you can't blame him for the skepticism. a strange box randomly appearing on one of your shelves? you would be hesitant to open it too.

after a few shakes he gives to the box to hear if anything suspicious is inside, he decides that it isn't a miniscule explosive or a secret camera or any other funky gadget.

simon opens it, and one of his eyebrows raises as an automatic response. a bracelet? specifically, a bracelet made of small, shiny, white pearls with a single flower charm.

but he's not ungrateful or doesn't like it, per se, he's just.. confused. as everyone else was.

confused that somebody thought to get him a gift. bought something for him that he never asked for or mentioned or even thought of himself.

it's not what he was expecting at all. a bracelet. really? for him? but why? he stands in that spot for a good minute, trying to make sense of this. but he's also trying to tell himself he doesn't care about this.

but there's a little creature in his heart or in his brain or something whispering to him that he actually kind of likes it.

he won't admit any of this— but he does end up keeping it, box and all. and he does like the gorgeous glossiness of the pearls and the intricate details and carvings of the charm.

he likes the way it feels on his wrist when he slides it on. it has a nice, cool feeling, but not cold enough for it to be uncomfortable. like the way a cold pillow feels nice against your head.

and from that day forward, if you look closely enough, you can always see a glimpse of a shiny piece of jewelry peeking through the bottom of ghost's sleeve.

[gothicbabydollz]

100% get this is not everyone’s cup of tea but I would absolutely crumble if you ever wrote an Amarantha x fem! Reader drabble or fic involving sex pollen/dub con themes where she’s just making you eat her out

(I’m so sorry if this is disturbing)

Lap Cat

~~~

Pairings: Amarantha x f!reader

Warnings: this is a dark fic, read at your own risk. smut, dark themes, dubcon, mentions of torture/killing, oral (a!recieving)

Summary: You didn’t really think you’d get away with deceiving the Queen now did you?

Word count: around 2k

a/n: this ended up being a lot longer than i expected… (not proof read)

~~~

I imagine you being the daughter of a High Lord, which one is up to you but essentially you are very well known throughout Prythian.

Maybe you’re relatively younger, like 100 years old compared to other High Lord offspring’s.

Therefore, you’ve spent your first years of adulthood under Amarantha’s reign, and as your father is a high lord the Queen prefers to keep close - you’ve also spend the first years of adulthood stuck under the mountain.

This fuels your knowledge when conspiring against her, knowing your way around, having been accustomed to the horrific displays almost every night, being paid no mind from the Queen herself…or so you thought.

You were good. Truly. Yet Amarantha was better.

And you were still too young, too naive to truly attempt to deceive her.

Those helping you were tormented and slaughtered the previous nights. Your friends, your allies. Now hanging on the walls of the throne room. Under torture, you’re sure your name would have slipped out.

Now you were just counting down the hours until your time came.

The Attor himself was sent to retrieve you, and it took every ounce of strength you had left to keep the tears at way. As your mind ran wild of the possible ways the Queen would make you suffer.

When you’re released from the Attor’s punishing grip, your knees meet soft ground. Unlike the cool stone of the throne room. Cracking your eyes open, you stare at the detailed rug beneath you. One of the last things you’ll see. You run your shaking fingers through the wool, savouring the soft feel.

“I had expected better from you.”

You don’t bother trying to defend yourself, you know you’ve been caught. Instead you force your eyes upwards, looking towards the direction her voice came from.

You’re in the Queen’s personal chambers, you realise. As you see her standing in only a robe, so purple it could be black. Her crown still sits atop her head, copper hair weaved throughout. Her eyes find yours, cold and unforgiving, that prominent smirk evident on her mouth. “Up. Drink,” She gestures to the flagon of wine sitting on the table, the lone silver cup waiting to be filled. She holds its twin in her own hand, the eye trapped within her ring darts, as if telling you to do as she says.

Rising on shaky legs, you walk to the table. You struggle to suck air into your lungs, chest tight with the impending fear of death. You put all your effort in keeping the flagon steady as you pour yourself a cup of deep red wine. It looks like blood. Mother knows you’ve watched Amarantha draw pint after pint of blood from her victims. You can’t help the tears that line your eyes.

Poison. You think as you raise the cup to your mouth, sniffing the liquid within. “If I were going to kill you, do you honestly believe I would choose poison?” She asks, obviously having noticed your hesitance. You turn to face her, watching her settle on the edge of her large bed. You find your voice, “I wouldn’t know. You’re unpredictable.” The Queen laughs at that, a heartless sort of sound, “Drink.”

You do.

As the cool, bittersweet wine coats your throat, you pick up on what she said. “If you were to kill me?” She takes a sip from her own wine, humming, and points with a sharp, pointed nail to the floor at her feet. Kneel. Her gesture tells you. Tendrils of hope encase your mind, so you slowly walk towards her and settle onto your knees at her feet.

“I should kill you,” she looks down at you, with such terrifyingly beautiful features, “but i don’t want to.” Your heart pounds, could you get out of this alive? Amarantha reaches out, long, slender fingers catching your cheeks in her grip. She tilts your head to her will, “It would be an awful shame to ruin such a pretty face or the body hiding underneath that dress.” From the way she looks at you, it was if she could truly see beneath your clothes. You gulp.

She releases your face as she continues, “Killing you would be a waste of potential,” You follow her hands as they move to the tie holding her robe together, “I believe you could prove…useful. I simply need to know who’s side you’re on.” Your breath is caught in your throat as you watch the Queen strip off her robe, exposing the smooth, pale and utterly naked skin beneath. She sighs in her fresh nudity, her full, perky breasts shifting with the movement. Dark nipples peak in the chill air. You have to drag your stare away, instead down her stomach, flexing as she moves to get comfortable, propping her feet on the bed and ultimately widening the stance of her thighs, leaving you between them. With a view of her wet cunt, slick shining in your eyesight. It’s pathetic, that you can do absolutely nothing to stop the flood of arousal igniting a fire between your own legs. Guilt and lust cloud your mind as you stare at the Queen, awaiting her next move.

She lifts her cup, tilting it to allow the wine within to drip onto her skin. Dark against her pale complexion. The droplet runs down the valley of her breasts. “So, pet. What will it be?” Amarantha asks, smugness lacing her voice. Pet. The word echoes between your ears. That’s what she wants. Though she leaves the final choice to you. Would you rather be her plaything, her puppet? Or die.

You catch the droplet of wine as it reaches her mound. The taste melting on your tongue. Looking up at her, you follow the path back up, and she grins. It’s frightening. “Smart choice.” It all she says before tipping more wine over herself. This time, the liquid coats her breasts, and like a good little plaything, you clean it up. The Queen says nothing as your tongue licks at the plump flesh of her tit, collecting the wine before swallowing it down. She tilts her head when your tongue flattens over her nipple, testing you. So you pull then taut bud into your mouth, suckling like a kitten on her mother’s tit. Amarantha moans when you do, the sound shooting straight to the pits of your tummy. It shames you almost as much as it arouses you.

You chase the droplets that escaped your searching tongue. Finding one on the very same path as the first. You kiss your way back down her stomach, eyes watching her breasts as they rise and fall with each breath, nipples glistening with your spit. Her face only shows off her amusement, yet the smell of her gives it away, she’s aroused and getting off on having you bend to her will.

Her cunt is soaking, juices dripping onto the sheets beneath her. You know there’s no going back the second you put your mouth on her. Not if you want to live, that is. The thought scares you, shames you, that you’d rather live to serve her to escape your fear of death. You try to believe that you’re forcing yourself to become aroused, as a means to make her think you enjoy this. Truth is, you’re not sure.

Long fingers find home in your hair as you kiss down the length of her, inhaling her scent and feeling her slick smear over your lips. Nails lightly rake over your scalp and you look up, meeting her gaze while your tongue licks back up. Amarantha’s lips part when you catch on her clit, hint of a moan on her breath. You give her a few more kitten licks before wrapping your lips around her bud and sucking. That earns you a groan and tight grip on your hair, “That’s more like it. Come on, don’t be shy.”

You whimper against her, worried of what she’ll do if you fail to please her. Dipping down, your tongue delves between her folds, tasting her built up arousal. Her essence explodes on your tongue, sweeter than you could have ever imagined. She tastes like fine wine, and you lap her up, finding some sick pleasure in the taste of her on your tongue.

Urged to double your efforts, you press closer, slurping on her cunt, parting her with your tongue to dip inside. Amarantha moans, hips grinding into your face as she used the right grip on your hair to pull you closer. Your nose rubs against her clit, tongue massaging her inner walls in tandem. “Fuck, pet,” She purrs, meeting each thrust of your tongue, “That mouth. I think i’ll have keep you.” She clenches around your tongue when you whine against her in response, feeling drunk off her cunt. A wave of submission washing over your body.

Her breathing picks up as you continue your ministration. Burying your face in her sex, tongue pushing inside her and exploring her soft, warm walls, searching for spots to make her tighten and moan. Your nose is pushed against her hot clit, adding to the stimulation you’re giving her. You find yourself releasing frequent sounds of pleasure, losing yourself in the taste and feel of her cunt. Amarantha relishes in you, grinning as she moans out, loud and filled with lust. She’s pulling at your hair so hard, it hurts. And her thighs close around your head, keeping you locked against her.

“Like licking cunt, don’t you?” Her words come out as a groan, yet you still depict ever ounce of mockery laced in her tone. You watch her stomach flex, feel her cunt tighten rhythmically. Along with the slick and spit dripping down your chin, your cheeks, your neck. Making a complete mess of you. “At least that’s one thing you’ll be good for,” she laughs through her moans, “Gonna make me fucking cum on that pretty face of yours, mmph fuck-”

She does. The Queen of Prythian climaxes hard, thighs trembling on either side of your face. She cries out a string of curses, drenching your chin with her juices. You fuck her through it, keeping up pace to drag her climax out for as long as possible. Your tongue glides in and out of her pulsing hole, collecting each wave of cum that escapes her.

You don’t stop until Amarantha drops her thighs and forces your head back with a sharp tug. Her hand wraps around your throat before you can suck down a breath of well needed air. You choke out a yelp, eyes widening in a mix of fear and surprise.

Amarantha leans down until the tip of her nose brushes yours, and you can feel her breath fanning across your face. Her expression has changed. No amusement lingers in her gaze. Only ice is left, serious and unforgiving. “You are mine.” Her grip tightens, “Always have been, always will be. Understood?” It’s not a question. You’re smart enough to know that.

“Yes,” your voice is a whisper, strained due to the hold she has on your throat. Her eyes darken. “Yes, my Queen.”

Satisfied, she releases her grip. “Good.” You’re finally able to breathe, dropping onto your hands until you no longer feel lightheaded. “Why don’t you pour us another drink, hm? The night is still early, and i’m not done with you yet.”

This is your life now, you realise. Utterly at your Queen’s mercy. As she said…her pet.

[mutable-manifestation]

The Ghost King (of Miscommunication) Ch. 21

Part 1-12,Part 13,Part 14,Part 15, Part 16, Part 17, Part 18, Part 19, Part 20

Part 21!

So this kinda got long. I wouldn't be able to fit the explanation part without posting off of my ao3 schedule. Also the chapter would be, like, way longer than the ~2K I've been aiming for.

So! Here's this, and I'm gonna try to post the explanation-scene as a separate chapter on Thursday or Friday. (It'll probably be big on its own anyway).

Info: Self-concept upon death hugely impacts ghost form, and Sam & Tucker expected white hair bc of Danny. So by the time Jazz became a ghost (read: Died) it was just an expectation that white hair and green eyes would be a part of that.

(Danny's own palette swap is an effect of his beliefs about what happens when things burn [white to black] and bleach in heat [black to white - like the flag on the moon]. White hair being associated with stress/death, green eyes because green was all he could see, etc. Just a lot of jumbled, morbid, last-minute thoughts while he was dying combined with pre-existing, subconscious beliefs about life and death.)

Jason's form is his exact form from when he died - minus all the injuries and plus the full-white eyes (not just normal eyes behind a domino mask - I know that varies by version for some robins. This is full-whites. They do still turn green when he's angry tho)

***

Jason only realized he’d been tricked after they finally called it a draw.

For all a snowball fight barely counted as a fight, he certainly felt calmer after getting some of his energy out.

He’d been so distracted enjoying himself he hadn’t even thought of using the chaos to bolt - not that he would have anyway, given he still didn’t know where to find a portal home.

The girl flits in front of him just in time for him to catch his breath.

“Nice to meet you,” She holds out a hand, grin as exuberant as it had been throughout the game - minus the feral tinge of competitiveness.

“I’m Danielle,” she offered as he shook the proffered hand. “But call me Elle - or Dani with an i if you want to mess with someone.”

The mischief on her face at the suggestion made him think she’d done so before.

She almost certainly already knew his name, but not telling her himself would be rude - a death sentence if they really were fae. Still, that she hadn’t prompted him should make it safer. Maybe.

(If the initial kidnapping was permitted by Danny hearing his name then he certainly didn’t hear a prompt from him, but who knows if inaudible whispers count. At least he can see that Danielle’s mouth hasn’t moved)

(Not like he isn’t already kidnapped anyway. What’ll they do, double kidnap him?)

“Jason,” he says as he disengages from the handshake, smiling genuinely despite himself.

(And he meant to smile, he did - he’d read enough stories to know how important being polite to the fae is; one wrong word and you’re 15 ribs shy of a full skeleton. Or a brother shy of a full family. It was half the reason he’d spoken as little as he had - but he hadn’t meant for it to be real)

“I’m sure Danny told you aaaaaall about me already, and yes, I really am that cool.”

Danielle - Elle - breaks Jason out his mental spiral. He just manages to smother his laugh with a cough.

“Ah, the tour actually got kind of off track, so I hadn’t had a chance to mention you yet.”

Elle gasps dramatically, putting both hands over her heart and flopping to the ground at Danny’s proclamation.

“Oh, I am wounded! I am shattered! I am abandoned and unloved!-” Danny laughs “-I am filing a formal complaint! I am requisitioning forms to have my darling emotional support Panther, Palu, moved to the Palace-”

“You- Emotio-WHAT!?” Danny reels back, expression horrified.

Elle floats up to sit a foot off the ground, arms and legs both crossed. She glares at him for about 5 seconds before sticking out her tongue and grinning.

“I’m kidding, you big chicken.”

“She ate my cape made with Actual Stars, Elle.”

Elle laughs at Danny’s clear relief and the following pout. Jason himself fails to suppress a snort.

“Well,” Danny huffs, turning to Wulf. “While these two are busy laughing at my expense, I wanted your opinion on something.”

He gestures to a more distant tree with his eyes, and Wulf follows as he floats away - probably aiming for out of earshot.

Elle abandons her laughter to float upright just in front of him - the floating equivalent of standing, he supposes.

“Anyway, like I said, I’m Elle. Long story short Danny’s ex-arch-nemesis who shall not be named wanted to adopt Danny and handled the ‘no’ really poorly and tried to clone him. I was the only surviving clone, and after trying to kill Danny on said manipulative ex-nemesis’ orders he managed to change my mind about said nemesis, helped stabilize me, and eventually ended up adopting me.” She said, in the most nonchalant manner possible, which, wow, the story really did not call for.

Jason desperately wants to know the long version.

“Sooo…” she drawls, smile gaining a teasing edge, “I guess you can actually just call me big sis.”

She laughs at his suddenly blank expression.

“No? How about ‘best big sister ever?’ Oh! Oh! Or ‘Coolest big sister in the Realms?’ Get it? Cuz ice powers.”

She flits around him as she speaks, wiggling her fingers and loosing a few flakes of snow at the last bit for emphasis, giggling.

Jason isn’t sure how to respond without insulting her somehow.

To any of that, really.

“Never expected to have a baby brother,” she muses, “but then with how readily he adopted me despite my origins I guess it isn’t all that surprising. Especially with you being a halfa and all. We’re really rare, I’m sure you’ve noticed. Or maybe not - you are only like a week old, technically.”

“I’m 22,” he corrects, unbelievingly.

She snorts.

“In human years, maybe.”

And hey. Wow. Jason is not a fan of that.

(Yes, he’s glowing. Yes, he’s visibly de-aged 7 years. No, he has not accepted any of the potential implications that has regarding his human-ness.)

Jason has roughly 100 more questions after her little info-dump than he did before.

Before he can debate risking those rib bones, what can only be one of the infamous ‘eyeballs’ shows up.

It sure is an eyeball, just one giant eye takes up most of its head, but for the thin green outline that connects to the rest of its body - only seen by the matching green of its hands, which themselves bear off-puttingly long claws.

It is also wearing quite possibly the most pretentious robes he has ever laid eyes on.

This coming from someone who grew up watching Brucie Wayne play air headed, carefree rich boy like it was his true calling - the man had a designer collection of dramatic robes to greet unexpected late-evening guests with.

“Phantom.”

“Greg.”

“That is not my name.”

By the terse greetings and short follow-up, this was a common exchange.

The eyeball - Greg, why not - turned its eye on Jason just then.

For all its size, the eye moved just as fast as a normal one. The motion was wrong in some indefinable way; grotesque to see. He did his best not to react, cautious of setting the being off; this one seemed more volatile than those he’d met thus far.

Despite the lack of a facial expression, Jason couldn’t help but feel like he was being sneered at.

Thankfully its attention on him was brief, turning back to address Elle after only a beat.

“If you are quite finished shirking your duties to play in the snow, the Valhallan representative is waiting to speak with you.”

“What??? He isn’t supposed to be here for another hour,” Elle questioned, brown pinched.

“It has been an hour, Phantom.”

He floats to her side to point towards the palace.

“If you would be so kind, I would like to get this over with.”

“Uuuuuuugh,” Elle groans, drifting slowly in that direction despite the apparent distaste, “Can’t you just watch from your lair like Clocky always does?”

“You know very well that matters of exceptional import and tumultuous path selection require personal observation in order to maintain timeline coherency. All royal meetings for-”

“‘-at least the next three weeks fit the criteria.’” Elle makes air quotes as she speaks, turning to face Greg while still floating towards the palace, backwards.

“I know, I know. Blah blah regulation, blah blah timelines, blah blah paperwork. Heard it. Got it. Thanks.” She concludes with an eyeroll, before looking back at him.

“Have fun with the rest of the tour!” she yells, smiling and waving as if she was already a mile away. “Make sure Danny shows you the map rooms!”

And then she turns and zooms away.

He can sense the faintest bit of rage coming from Greg, and he barely hears the muttered ‘Insufferable abomination’ before the…guy?...eye… follows suit.

He watches until the eye disappears into the building.

At which point he hears a small sigh from beside him.

He nearly jumps out of his skin in startlement, whipping his head around to find Danny floating placidly by his side, saluting into the distance.

“Good luck, Elle,” he says mournfully, “Rip to your good mood.”

“That bad?” Jason asks, resettling his nerves.

Danny snorts.

“The Observants always make everything either as boring as they can or as difficult as they can. It could be worse though; the Valhallans are a party people so it should balance out. Best case scenario they’ll spend the end of the meeting annoying ‘Greg’-” he adds air quotes at this, grinning, “-together.”

‘The Observants must be the eyeballs then,’ Jason thinks. ‘The name is a bit on the nose…or eye.’

“Anyway!” Danny twists and drifts to float in front of him. “We’ve got another hour or so before dinner; ready to get back to the tour?”

Jason opens his mouth, then pauses.

He takes a glance around and asks “Where is Wulf?”

“Oh, he’s off picking up a preorder - Volume 15 of, uh…something? I don’t remember the name. But don’t worry, he’ll be back in a few hours.”

And wow, the promise that Wulf isn’t just hovering unseen in the background does a lot to untense muscles he hadn’t realized were tensed.

“Right. Sure, tour away.”

He held in his questions, for all that he was bursting at the seams for answers.

Because really: Clone? Archnemesis??? Was this a hero-villain thing or a fae politics thing? Cloning generally wasn’t a thing heroes did, but kidnapping wasn’t either.

What did Elle mean by ‘Halfa?’ Or technically a week old???

Also: brother? Adopted? There’s no way, right?

Being yanked off of the streets of Crime Alley by some dude living in a veritable castle to be adopted with little to no explanation was not something that happened to people twice.

Let alone when he is, in fact, a grown-ass man.

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

The next section they visit is Elle’s, located close to the final tower on the same side as the Specters’ had been.

The first room is filled with complex ice sculptures - a panther the size of a horse, a normal-sized cat, a few of the yetis, a kid in a pirate garb with a parrot, a girl covered in…Lunch Boxes? Danny, Jazz, and Spike were scattered among more unfamiliar statues.

They take their time in this room, Danny pointing to a lot of the people depicted and giving him names to go with faces - he even recognizes a few of them from earlier parts of the tour, and makes sure to commit them all to memory.

Then came the rooms that looked like a cosmopolitan’s dream collection.

A room dedicated to world maps through the ages - little groups of similarly-aged maps slowly orbited each other in globe-like patterns while newer versions and even a few of alien worlds lined the walls.

At least 3 rooms are dedicated to photos from all around the world - he spotted the Eiffel Tower, the Pyramids, the Congo from above, the Great Wall of China, Niagara Falls - plenty of well-known tourist locations, as well as a wide variety of nature shots. The nature shots took up an entire floor-width room, and were arranged to transition from one biome to the next.

The next room is full of souvenirs; postcards, foods from around the world frozen in more of that crystal-clear ice, weapons, clothing, jewelry - a little bit of everything.

Another swift pass-through - and by, since one of them was occupied - of the meeting, sitting, and nap rooms has them finally arrive at the room that was probably the reason Elle said ‘map rooms’ and not just ‘room.’

It was domed like an observatory, but instead of the night sky it showed that infinite green.

Different sections zoomed in and out, just slowly enough to take in. The room is scattered with cushions and telescopes aimed up. At the very center stands some kind of machine, spitting out paper which, when he floats over to look at it, reveals a single, ever-growing map.

“Elle is obsessed with travel,” Danny says fondly. “She was away more often than not at first, but then she got the idea to map the Realms - a map that can be referenced rather than a single ‘take me where I ask you to’ artifact.”

He floats up towards the dome as he speaks.

“It might seem pointless with how much paper an infinite amount of realms will take to map, but the mechanism feeds the map data into a computer that sends everything to be incorporated into Tucker and Technus’ Zone Map App. It updates constantly, what with the fluctuations in the Zone, but it’s always improving.”

“Fluctuations?” Jason asks, processing the ‘infinite amount of realms’ remark.

“Think of it like space; there’s gravity against the constant growth of the universe. The zone expands and contracts, like the flow of a tide. Except it’s moving in all directions instead of just the two.

But it expands more than it contracts, and just like on the sea or in space things can drift closer together or farther apart. Following specific streams can help, but only so much. Reliable navigation was pretty hard to come by before Elle, Tuck, and Technus started working on this.”

“Impressive,” Jason says softly.

And it is. The thought of mapping a veritable ocean with important bits that never stayed in the same place…it seemed nigh-impossible.

Opposite the third tower - “We can tour my tower after dinner,” Danny had said - lay the section belonging to Jazz and Spike.

The first thing they come to is familiar - the library.

“Anyone can use the library, but Jazz is the one in charge.”

Jason stops cold.

“Jazz.” He echoes.

Jazz, who had so calmly and proficiently wielded a gun.

Who had gifted him a gun.

Who had expressed her own love for literature.

They’d even briefly discussed some of the classics and yet-

“Jazz made that impossible excuse for a sorting system!?”

He couldn’t bring himself to worry about upsetting him, he’d just have to risk the ribs. That ‘sorting’ system was a travesty that could not stand unchallenged.

Luckily, Danny only chuckles a bit.

“Come on, it’s not that bad,” he snorts, shaking his head.

“Not that- how are you supposed to find anything!” he shouts, throwing his hands into the air.

“You ask,” Danny answers, brow raised.

“WHO!? THERE’S NO RECEPTIONIST!” Jason scrubs his hands against his hair in frustration.

Understanding dawns on Danny’s face at that.

“Here, let me show you,” he says, nodding to the doors before zooming through.

Jason follows, anger simmering under his skin - fully his own, for the first time in years.

“Library,” Danny says as Jason comes to float beside him, “May I please see The Guide to Phantom Palace?”

A book soars from a wall shelf to float, wiggling in front of him like an eager puppy.

“Thank you!” Danny says brightly, before turning to hand the book to Jason.

“The library is sentient,” he explains. “Good manners are key, by the way - Jazz is in charge, but the library can and will kick people out if they're rude or incautious with food and drinks.”

Jason stares at the book in his hand a moment, frustrated at the simplicity of it and the hour he spent looking aimlessly, but at least a bit soothed at the presence of a way to actually find things - even if the organization still makes no sense.

“Why the emotional organization system, then?” He finally asks.

“That’s for Jazz,” Danny answers. “This library is a part of some psychology project she’s doing - the return system, at least. Ask the library for the book you want - or you can ask for suggestions based on certain criteria. It’s sentient, it can help you find things - and when you’re done with it you put it back where you think it should be based on your own emotions.

Or if you don’t want to participate you can just put your books back on the shelf by the desk and Jazz will rearrange them however she sees fit.”

“Psychology project?” Jason asks after pause.

“Ah, you’d have to ask her. She told me all about it when it was first getting set up, but as much as I tried to understand it, it was all Greek to me.”

“Anyway!” he claps, “Now for the rest!”

The rest of Jazz’s section seems to follow the psychology theme.

A rage room that looks well-loved - battered, glowing clubs and a variety of damaged items from tech to glass to dummies that appeared to be slowly healing themselves.

A soothing room full of soft things and calming music and candles and even a few flowers.

A sound-proof room for quiet, a therapy room for meeting with ‘patients.’ Then of course there were the business meeting, paperwork, sitting, and nap rooms. And a combat room.

The nap, combat, and sitting rooms seemed to be shared, with the second part of the section - Spike’s - branching off from the sitting room.

Spike, of course, had his own cursed paperwork and meeting rooms.

Then came the ‘this is the home of an artist’ rooms.

An enormous circular room was dedicated to acting as a color wheel, the walls slowly shifting from deepest reds to darkest indigos, with every shade and color in between. In the center of the floor was the darkest shade of black, radiating out to a blinding white where it met the walls - the ceiling was the opposite, a bright white dot radiating darker until it met the walls as a void-like black.

A room filled with sketches and paintings, a room full of blank or half-made canvases with pencils and paints and brushes floating all around - seemingly where they’d been abandoned, a room full of miniature landscapes matching both locations he’d seen on earth and the strange landmasses he’d seen on the journey to the castle. And then what Danny called an archive room, where Spike stored older projects that he no longer wished to display.

Skalfred found them just as Danny finished explaining the room.

“Perfect timing!” Danny grins, turning to Jason. “Race you there?"

They’re near the library. Jason knows the way.

He zips around Skalfred and out the door in lieu of an answer.

He can just faintly hear Danny sputtering, ‘You cheater!’ coming out around the echoing laughter behind him.

***

@mayoota-blog1 @kyrianclawraith, @do3y, @someonebored0100 @omegasmileyface @a-star-with-a-human-name @akikoyuii @newgraywolf @tytythehistoryguy

Fun Facts!

Elle’s name - she initially chose Dani because she didn’t want to change herself just to differentiate herself from Danny - lots of people have the same name, and she has just as much right to it as Danny.

But it also made her feel too much like a copy and less like a person - especially with the confusion when she started living with the Fentons.

Then Jazz suggested Elle would be a nice name - it’s part of her name already and it’s like Elle Woods, known badass. They then watched legally blonde, and Dani decided it was a really cool name and started going by Elle. She’s a lot happier with it - no more discomfort when being spoken too, and they can still call her Dani when she and Danny are both in the room and they want to annoy the Observants or other people by doing The Bit(™) [both pointing to themselves ‘who me’ - other person, also in on the bit, facepalming and saying ‘Danny’ - them ‘which Danny.’ Of course no one told the observants Dani also goes by Elle. One time one got tired of it and went ‘Obviously the Danny with the crown of fire.’ And Danny makes the Crown of Fire appear (separate little mini-rings-transformation) at the same time Elle pulls a Burger King Crown actively on fire from her Halfa Pocket Space and they both go ‘which crown of fire’ and it is by the blessing of not having organs alone that the observant in question did not immediately have an aneurysm from sheer, apoplectic rage.]

Palu - Danny is a dog person, Elle is a cat person. Palu is named for Cath Palug - the closest thing I could find to a cat-equivalent of Cujo’s namesake. Same neon-green fur as Cujo, but all-purple eyes. Palu can be the size of a cat (around twice Cujo’s puppy-size), but can get up to the size of a horse (just slightly smaller than Cujo’s max). Unfortunately, Palu is very fond of Being Enormous And Also Hunting Everything That Moves That Isn’t Dani, so they put her in one of Sam’s conservation areas where she’d be happy. She liked it enough to move her lair - an incredibly large pet-bed in a small forest of cat trees - and Dani visits whenever she wants to see her.

[crystalninjaphoenix]

Sunny Day(ze)

Paranormal Preteens AU: Episode Eight

A JSE Fanfic

This one got REALLY long. It’s 8k words, which is about 2k words longer than my usual. But it really needs the extra space, cause a lot happens. The boys go on a camping trip with Jackie’s dad and other friends. Unfortunately, Chase brought some, shall we say, supernatural items along, and soon they have to deal with mushrooms again. Since the story itself is already quite long, I won’t keep you guys from it any longer. :)

++++++++++++++++++++

Chase hadn’t been camping in years. His memories of the last time were eight years old and blurry, so his expectations were equally vague. He had a general idea of going out into deep forest, being all alone with a campfire circled by stones and a pyramid-shaped tent to sleep in. Actual camping surprised him in a couple different ways.

He and Schneep said goodbye to Mom around nine o’clock in the morning. Jackie promised that he and his dad would take care of them, and then they all got in the car and drove off. Marvin and JJ had been picked up earlier, and Marvin had thus claimed the front seat for the whole journey. Which...turned out to only take an hour. Sure, the town had disappeared from view by the time they reached the campsite, but Chase thought they’d be driving for longer.

The campground also wasn’t what he expected. There was a paved road leading up to a small gate, where Jackie paid some sort of toll, and then several different dirt roads and gravel parking lots that had quite a few cars. “It’s the middle of summer, always busy this time of year,” Jackie said. And ‘busy’ wasn’t a word Chase had associated with camping up until now. But he could see quite a few people walking around, and there were tents nestled between the trees in almost every direction. It was kind of killing his mood, honestly. 

Luckily, his mood perked up when Jackie kept driving, eventually finding his way to a campsite on the edge of the grounds, nestled between pine trees that hid it from other sites. The site was basically a small clearing of hard-packed dirt with grass around the edges, with a picnic table, a grill, and a concrete circle where people could light fires. It was empty except for a pickup truck and a man pulling poles out of a bag.

“That’s your dad, right?” Chase asked, leaning forward to look out the windshield.

“Yep,” Jackie said. “And that’s the truck he rented.” He parked his green hatchback right next to said truck and gave a little honk. Mr. Mann had already seen them coming, and he threw up a hand in a wave. “Alright. Out we go.”

“Should we get our things?” Schneep asked. Mom had helped him and Chase pack a duffel bag each. They also went shopping for new sleeping bags a few days ago.

“Nah, leave them in the trunk until after we set up the tents,” Jackie said. “You guys can take your backpacks though.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe I’m sitting in between two nerds who brought bags full of books that crushed me on the drive,” Chase said. “Give me room to breathe!”

There’s only one book in my bag, Jameson signed defensively.

“What else is in there? Rocks?”

Well, Marvin wanted to take some of his crystals.

Chase blinked. “You actually brought rocks? To a camping trip?”

No, C-R-Y-S-T-A-L-S, Jameson said, spelling out the word to be clear. And they were Marvin’s idea.

“Marvin!” Chase leaned around the passenger side seat to glare at him—but Marvin was already gone. He’d left the car as soon as Jackie said “out.” Now he was spinning in a circle on the grass and shouting “Aahhh!” Apparently Marvin didn’t do well with being stuck in a car for a long time.

Everyone else piled out and went to explore the campsite. “Hey, Dad.” Jackie said. “These are the boys. Remember? From my birthday?”

“Yes, we ran into each other a couple times.” Mr. Mann dropped the fabric he was pulling out of a bag—a tent without form—and smiled at the group. “Jackie talks about you a lot.”

“Hi Jackie’s dad,” Chase said, waving.

“Hello Herr Mann,” Schneep said politely. “You have a lovely... ah... car.”

Mr. Mann laughed. “Well, the truck’s not mine. That’s a rental, along with two of these tents. Jackie drove our car up here. You’re Henrik, right? No need to be so formal.”

“Ah... alright.” Schneep gripped the straps of his backpack.

Jameson, meanwhile, had pulled his notebook and pencil from his bag and written something down, which he showed to Mr. Mann. Do you need help setting up the tent?

“Well, if you’re willing to try, sure. It should be mostly Jackie and me. And his friends, once they get there.” Mr. Mann looked at Jackie. “Do you know if they’re on their way?”

“Uhhh they were when I went to pick up the boys.” Jackie reached into his hoodie pocket and pulled out his phone. He frowned. “No bars. So I guess we won’t know until they’re here. Anyway. Tent?”

“I wanna help!” Chase jumped a couple times to get attention.

Mr. Mann laughed again. He had a full, loud laugh. “Alright, then. You’re Chase? You can help me and Jackie lay out the tent. Anyone else who wants to join in should start sorting poles by lengths.”

They’d just finished with those two assigned tasks (Marvin and Schneep sat at the picnic table and watched) when another car pulled up. It was a bigger car, gray with four doors, and looked a little old, with scratched paint and a dent in the side. It parked on the other side of the pickup truck. Immediately, all the doors opened and five teenagers climbed out. Jackie’s face brightened and he hurried over. “Hey guys!”

“Hey, it’s the Jackieboy!”

“Hey man!”

“Is that a new hoodie? Looks good.”

“Did you bring your camera?”

“Do you have signal out here? Cause I don’t.”

Chase turned and stared as Jackie talked and chatted with these new people. They must be Jackie’s friends—the ones his age. He looked around at the other three boys. They were all as curious as he was. Marvin and Schneep got up from the picnic table and went to stand by Chase and Jameson.

“Oh, hey, let me introduce you guys to the boys.” Jackie turned around and walked over to Chase and the others. “Hey, little mans. This is Sylvester, Mincy, Ram, Fengge, and Celine. Guys, these are Chase, Henrik, Marvin, and Jameson.”

“Hi!” Chase adjusted his cap and smiled. “So, uh, you know what they say! A friend of Jackie’s is a friend of mine!”

It’s nice to meet you, Jameson wrote. Meanwhile, Marvin was quiet for once. He looked a little overwhelmed at meeting so many people at once.

“Wait, who is who?” Schneep asked, confused.

Jackie chuckled. “Well you met Syl for a minute at the pool a while ago.”

“Hey. I remember you guys.” Sylvester smiled, looking a bit shy. He had black hair that curled a bit, and wore a gray zip-up hoodie. “Nice to see you again. This is Mincy, she’s—”

“—the cool one,” interrupted a blonde girl, her hair pulled back in a ponytail. She flashed a grin. “Everyone else is a bunch of dorks.”

“I take that personally,” said the other girl in the group. Her hair was short and black, and she wore mostly black as well. “I know a total dork, and I’m very careful to not be like him.”

“Don’t insult Jackie like that,” said the tallest teenager, darker-skinned with chin-length hair.

“I think she meant her brother,” replied the last one, a boy with straight black hair and wearing a black jacket over a green shirt.

“Anyway,” Jackie said. “Celine is the goth one, Ram is the tall one, and Fengge is the one with the jacket.”

“Whoa,” Chase said quietly. He’d never been introduced to so many older kids at once. And they all looked so cool. “Is that a tattoo?!” He pointed at the one in the jacket—Fengge.

“Oh, this? It’s just temporary.” Fengge traced the pattern of vines and leaves on his neck. “My parents would kill me if I got a real one. But they won’t know about this one, hehe.”

“Are you a witch?” Marvin suddenly blurted out, looking at Celine.

“Sort of, I guess,” Celine said. “I do tarot and candles and stuff.”

“Oooo.” Marvin grinned. “I’m a witch too! Or, uh, I’m trying to be! You’re probably a lot better. Do you have crystals?”

“A few.”

Marvin grabbed Jameson’s hand, getting his attention, and shook him a little to share his excitement.

“Excuse me,” Schneep said. “Um, Ram? I’m sorry if this is rude, but are you a boy or a girl?”

“Well, what do you think?” Ram asked.

“Ahh...” Schneep froze. “Are you... both?”

Ram smiled gently. “Sure, that feels right. I can also be something that’s not either of them, too.”

“Oh.” Schneep blinked, a bit in awe at this new possibility.

“Hey!” Mr. Mann was still over by the tents. “Now that you’re all here, come help set up the things you’ll be sleeping in, why don’t you?”

“Alright, fine!” Jackie shouted back. “We gotta help. Dad’ll be so mad otherwise.”

“Um...” Chase coughed. “Actually, was there, like, a bathroom somewhere?”

“Oh sure.” Jackie pointed back down the dirt road they drove down. “We passed it a bit back there. It’s a square concrete building. Fair warning, there will probably be bugs inside. Do you need bug spray?”

Chase shook his head. “I’ll be fast.”

“Hurry back soon, Chase,” Schneep said.

“I will,” Chase promised. He turned and started to walk away. “See ya.”

He walked fast, and soon, he disappeared behind the trees. The moment he was out of sight, he broke into a run, heading off the road and into the surrounding forest. He kept going for a solid minute, until he was sure he was alone with nothing but plants around. Then he waited for a few seconds, listening. Only once he was sure no one was coming did he reach into his pocket and pull out the plastic sandwich bag he’d brought. Inside were five mushroom caps of unusual green color.

Chase sat down at the base of a tree and squeezed the bag. The mushrooms all let out a puff of fuzzy spores, which flew out of the bag and into the air. Despite being severed from their roots for so long, the mushrooms still worked. Chase could tell, because his head started to swim, and he slowly listed back and forth from the effect. He could also tell because of the voice he started to hear.

“Camping, huh sport?” The voice laughed. “We haven’t done that since you were four years old. We went up to Sly Park with your grandparents. Do you remember that?”

“A little...” Chase muttered. His vision was starting to blur, lines becoming indistinct colors. Some of those colors formed the shape of a person. A man, with brown hair and blue eyes the same shade as his.

“Isn’t your friend Chad at camp? Do you think he’s having fun? Well, I bet not as much without you.”

“I-I haven’t heard from him...”

“Really? That sucks. Maybe he just doesn’t know how to write letters.”

Chase laughed a little bit. The blurry figure of a person sat down next to him. He could almost feel an arm around his shoulder.

He knew it wasn’t really there. Of course he did, he wasn’t stupid. But he just... he wanted to see this. So he’d kept the bag with the mushrooms. Occasionally he’d tell his mom and Schneep that he was going skateboarding, but he was actually just taking the bag outside of the house so he could do this without them knowing. He didn’t want to explain the supernatural fungi to his mom, and he didn’t want to hear Schneep say they needed to destroy them. He knew that already. And he didn’t want them to look at him with sad expressions.

Part of him did worry about what else these mushrooms could do. But it was probably fine. They already confirmed that the spores didn’t actually cause the mushrooms to spread, so these effects were just contained to himself, and no one else. It was fine. Nobody was getting hurt. And Chase got to spend a little more time with him.

He sat there for a while, listening to him talk, occasionally muttering a reply, when he heard someone calling his name. “Chase? Chaaaase?!” He snapped to attention immediately.

“Ah, you have to go now?” said the blurry figure. “Well, you know how to reach me.”

Chase stood up, stumbling a bit before steadying himself against the three. He took a few deep breaths, and once the dizziness was gone, he started walking towards the voice, sealing the sandwich bag. He’d probably spent too long away, the others would be getting—

Jackie turned around a tree, appearing right in front of Chase. He gasped and stepped back, then smiled in relief. “There you are, little man. Did you get lost?”

“Uh, yeah.” Chase had hidden the bag behind his back the moment he saw Jackie.

“You didn’t need to leave the road, you know.”

“Well, I thought I’d take a shortcut.”

“Hmm. Understandable. But try to stick to the paths from now on.” Jackie turned around. “Come on, let’s go back.”

“Yeah.” Chase hurried after him, stuffing the bag into his pocket now that Jackie had his back turned.

In his rush, he didn’t notice that the bag didn’t completely disappear into his shorts pocket. He didn’t notice how, as soon as the camp was in sight, a shadow of a hand reached up and grabbed the plastic corner that stuck out. He didn’t feel the bag fall out and land in a patch of soft, damp dirt. He didn’t hear the slight giggle that quickly faded away.

++++++++++++++++++++

It took a while to get the tents set up and all their stuff inside. Mr. Mann had a three-person tent, and he rented two four-person tents as well to accommodate everyone. The four boys would get a four-person tent to themselves, while Jackie would share the other one with his dad and his friends Sylvester and Fengge, while Celine, Mincy, and Ram got the last one.

“I thought the tent would be smaller,” Chase said, once he’d dragged his stuff inside the one they’d be using.

It will probably look a lot smaller once we have the sleeping bags out, Jameson said. Where do people want to be? We can line up all the bags right here, on these pad things that Mr. Mann brought.

The order ended up being, from left to right: Schneep, Chase, Marvin, and Jameson. They all set up their things and then quickly left the tent. It started to get hot inside the canvas walls. 

Chase didn’t know what you were supposed to do while camping. He wandered around the trees for a little bit, looking for stuff to do. Eventually, he wondered if he could climb them. He’d never climbed a tree before. But he was confident he could do it. It took most of the afternoon to get really up in the branches of one, and once he was high enough he started breaking off sticks and throwing them down at the others passing through. Mostly Marvin, who was also wandering through the trees. That did not make him happy, and after a while Chase had to hop down because Marvin started throwing the sticks back.

Schneep had claimed a spot at the picnic table, where he took out some of the books from his bag and started to read. Chase didn’t understand how he could just sit there and read about nature while surrounded by it. But whatever. Jameson also tried to read at the picnic table, but he kept swatting at bugs crawling around, and decided he would rather be hot inside the tent than have to deal with all that. Meaning Schneep was alone for a while. He kept glancing up at Jackie and his friends, who had set up a circle of foldable camping chairs around the fire pit.

“You okay, Schneep?” Chase asked, passing by. “You look nervous.”

Schneep jumped a little. “Ah. I-I am just... I do not know anything about these people, so... I am nervous, you are right.”

“Well, no need to be. Jackie wouldn’t like these guys if they were, like, crazy. Why don’t you try talking to them?”

“Nein, no, I will just... read here.”

Chase nodded. “Well okay. So. I’m gonna sit here, then. And I’m gonna talk to them.” He raised his voice and shouted at the circle of chairs. “Hey! Do you guys like skateboarding?!”

Schneep gasped, and propped up his book so it hid his face. Jackie and the other teens all looked over at him. “Skating’s cool!” Mincy said. “I roller skate, that’s kinda the same thing as with a board!”

“It’s really not,” Jackie said.

Mincy rolled her eyes. “They both have wheels. They’re both called skating. Chessmate.”

“It’s ‘checkmate,’ actually,” Fengge corrected. “Though I think you don’t say that every time? There’s like, a ‘check,’ which is different.”

Schneep peeked over the top of his book. “Ahm... ja—y-yes, that is right. A check means that the king is in danger and has to be moved, o-or be captured. And that ends the game. Checkmate means there is nowhere the king can move that will not end in being captured. And then the game ends.”

“Wow.” Ram laughed. “You’re really smart. How old are you?”

“Eleven. I-I will be twelve in September.”

“Chévere. I didn’t know anything about chess when I was eleven.”

“I’m surprised at that, Ram,” Celine said. “You like strategy games.”

“I like strategy games with plot,” Ram corrected.

After that brief encounter, Schneep seemed to relax a little. Not entirely, but enough that Chase felt he could handle himself.

As the sun started going down, the group started taking out stuff for dinner, and Marvin started complaining about being bored. “There’s nothing to do out here!” he said. “I don’t know why we were able to run around nature all day when we were little. I guess maybe we were playing games or something. Hey. Hey guys. Wanna do...I don’t know. Hide and seek or something?”

“You shouldn’t go out hiding now that it’s starting to get dark,” Mr. Mann said, walking over to the fire pit with an armload of wooden planks and logs. “You could get hurt tripping over something.”

“You brought flashlights,” Marvin pointed out. “Also, what are you doing?”

“I’m making a fire.” Mr. Mann started stacking the logs in the circular fire pit, making a sort of Jenga formation.

“Isn’t it supposed to be, like, a pyramid? Leaning all the logs against each other?”

“That’s one way of doing it, yes! But I’m going for a platform build, it’ll let the fire last longer. We’ll need to light some kindling in the middle. You want to watch?”

Marvin did, indeed, want to watch. And the moment the first flames started licking at the wood, he was absolutely mesmerized. Chase hadn’t known Marvin that long, but he’d never seen him sit so still. One of the teens, Sylvester, ended up giving him his chair so he could sit closer to the fire and stare into it, eyes reflecting the orange light.

Dinner was not cooked over fire. Instead, Mr. Mann used the grill that came with the campsite to make hamburgers and grilled chicken, paired with some canned fruit. After everyone was done eating, he brought out long metal sticks and said they were for marshmallows. Everyone took turns roasting them over the campfire—even Jameson, who had stayed in the tent for most of the day, even eating in there.

“You know what says a lot about someone?” Jackie said. “How long they’ll cook the marshmallow before they put it in the smore.”

What does it say about them? Jameson asked.

Jackie shrugged. “I dunno. Something. Anyway, I like a nice golden tint.”

None of the boys had ever had smores before, so most of them tried experimenting, using up a good half a bag of marshmallows. The only exception was Schneep, who barely got his marshmallow to melt before putting it on the cracker. Chase found that he liked the extra-melty ones, and was willing to risk a black outside for the gooey inside. The twins both agreed with Jackie’s golden one, though Jackie’s was slightly more brown than either of theirs.

It was well and truly dark around them. Outside of the light from the campfire and two lanterns they’d brought, everything was pitch black. They might as well have been the only thing out there. Even though Chase could hear excited shouting and talking from other campsites, he couldn’t see them. The night air was filled with the chirps of crickets, and up above stars were scattered across the black sky. Mr. Mann said something about how there used to be more visible, but it was more stars than Chase had ever seen. He sat and stared up at them for a solid few minutes, thinking about how far away they were, and how small everything below them was.

After smores, Mr. Mann said that the boys should go to bed. When Chase complained about this, pointing out how Jackie and his friends were allowed to stay up, Mr. Mann replied, “When you’re sixteen you can stay up until midnight if you want. But all of you are still pretty young. This is already late enough.” And Chase didn’t want to get in trouble with Jackie’s dad, so he conceded. Mr. Mann gave them a bucket of water from a spout some ways down the road. The boys used that and a small toothpaste tube to clean their teeth, took turns changing into pajamas in the tent, and then all crawled inside, zipping up the tent flap behind them.

Chase didn’t want to admit it, but he was exhausted. The moment he wriggled down into his sleeping bag and rested his head on his pillow, he was out like a light.

++++++++++++++++++++

Chase felt like he was floating. Like he was lying on a giant pillow drifting across a gently waving ocean. The heaviness of sleep lay across him like a blanket. On some level, he knew he was dreaming. But he didn’t want to wake up. It was such a nice dream.

He was at home. The light was gold and warm, as if there were no roof and sunlight was streaming directly into the rooms. It was breakfast time. They were having crepes, something that Chase had only had a few times, but which he remembered vividly. Mom was there, wearing casual clothes. She didn’t have work today. And he didn’t have school. The two of them weren’t alone. There was a man there, brown-haired and blue-eyed, a beard half-hiding his face. Chase watched him give Mom a kiss on the cheek, and she giggled.

They were talking about something. It didn’t matter what. All that mattered was how they were smiling and laughing. Chase took a bite of the crepes, savoring the sweetness of the fruit and whipped cream covering it. Everything was perfect.

Except... there was another voice. Not one of theirs. It sounded distant and muffled, like it was coming from another room. Chase frowned. Was there someone else in the house? Did someone else want to join them?

He looked around. Everything was as it should be. Both of his family members were here.

...No. That wasn’t it. That wasn’t just it. Someone was missing. Who was it? Chase struggled to remember. Someone... shorter than him. With big round glasses, and a funny way of talking. Where was—

Where was Schneep?

Chase’s eyes snapped open. Then he immediately wanted to close them again, because there was a bright light shining directly into his face.

“You’re awake!” said a voice, relieved. And strangely muffled. “I’ve been trying to get you up for ages. I-I was trying to get JJ up first, but I wasn’t having luck, so I thought I’d try you—”

“Marvin?” Chase raised his hand. “Are you shining a flashlight in my face?”

“Oh! Sorry.” Marvin moved the flashlight away. Now Chase could see his face. Or, well, most of it. For some reason, he’d wrapped his cape around his mouth and nose. “Anyway, I wasn’t having luck with JJ, then I decided to try the crystals—”

“It’s still dark,” Chase said, looking around. The tent was dark except for Marvin’s flashlight, its beam lighting up dust drifting through the air. Schneep and Jameson were still asleep. “What’s going on?”

“Cover your breathing stuff,” Marvin said. “I-I mean your nose and mouth. Oh! Here.” He leaned over to the base of Chase’s sleeping bag, where his duffel bag was, and grabbed one of Chase’s shirts from the unzipped opening. He threw it onto Chase’s face. “Do you remember the mushrooms from a few weeks ago? They’re here, too.”

Panic shot through Chase’s heart. Had Marvin found his plastic bag? “What do you mean?” he asked, voice a bit too high.

“I mean this.” Marvin turned his flashlight towards the tent’s entrance. When they’d gone to sleep, it was closed, shutting out the outdoors. And now it was forced open. The entrance was filled with mushrooms, their fuzzy green caps as big as Chase’s head.

His heart sank. “What?” he whispered.

“I don’t know what’s going on exactly, but I think they’re affecting us,” Marvin said. “You know how they’re supposed to affect people’s heads and stuff? Well I was having this really weird dream. It was my birthday, and Gran was there, and my parents were, like giving me presents I wanted and stuff. And they made the cake strawberry, which is my favorite, instead of chocolate or yellow like they usually do. But JJ was missing, and when he showed up he started talking, and I knew that was weird because he doesn’t do that. So I kind of fought to get awake, and when I was sort of half-awake I rolled over and landed on one of my crystals and I think it cleared my head or something cause I was immediately all the way awake.”

While Marvin talked, Chase tied the spare shirt over his nose and mouth and unzipped his sleeping bag. “Wait, so those weird crystals you brought woke you up?”

“They woke you up, too!” Marvin held up a chunk of purple crystal as big as his hand. “I wasn’t having any luck until I remembered how it woke me up. Here, take it.” He pushed the crystal into Chase’s hand. “I have more.” Then he reached over to his bag and started picking up more crystals. “This is smoky quartz, it grounds you. And this cool green one is fluorite, it helps clear your mind—”

“We need to get rid of the mushrooms,” Chase said. “Marvin, I...I-I was having a really nice dream, too, and I don’t know if I would’ve woken up if you hadn’t helped me. Maybe... maybe nobody’s going to wake up ever unless we fix this.”

Marvin nodded. “That’s what I was thinking, too. And who knows what’s going on outside the tent? We need the rest of the gang. You get Schneep awake and I’ll get JJ.”

“Right.” Chase clutched the crystal Marvin had given him tightly. He crawled across the tent floor to Schneep’s sleeping bag. Schneep looked so small and quiet when he was asleep. Well, he was always small and quiet. But this was different. There was something... vulnerable about his face. Chase swallowed a lump in his throat. This whole thing had to be because he brought those mushrooms with him out here. He must’ve lost the bag. So he had to fix this. “Schneep. Hey.”

Schneep wouldn’t respond to Chase simply shaking his shoulder. Or to Chase calling his name in an increasingly loud voice. So, Chase was forced to try Marvin’s weird crystal thing. He felt so dumb just waving the purple rock in front of Schneep’s face. But only a few seconds passed before Schneep started to twitch, his face scrunching up. And half a minute later, Schneep’s eyes snapped open and he bolted upright, breathing heavily. He looked around, and saw Chase. “Was... Ch-Chase? I was... having a dream.”

“It probably felt really weird, right?” Chase said. “A good dream, too good to be true?”

“Ja.” Schneep nodded. “I-I was with you, und your mom. I think I was your...” He went quiet. “What is happening?”

Meanwhile, Marvin had succeeded in waking up JJ, who rubbed his eyes and sat up. “Let’s make a long story short,” Marvin said. “The weird mushrooms from the park are growing here, too!” And he shone his flashlight at the tent entrance. JJ and Schneep gasped in unison. “We have to get rid of them. O-or no one’s going to wake up!”

JJ nodded. We’ll need to keep from breathing the spores. They’re in the air in here. I already feel weird. Indeed, his signing was a bit slower than usual, as if he was having trouble getting his hands to form the signs.

Schneep immediately pulled the pillowcase off his pillow and covered his face with it. “We need to get to Jackie, and check on his dad and his friends. How did you wake us up?”

Chase explained the crystal thing while the others searched the tent for anything that would be useful. JJ found a heavy flashlight, while Marvin handed out crystals to the others. There wasn’t much that could be used as a weapon. Chase hadn’t brought his Nerf gun out of fear of losing the bullets in the forest, and the twins hadn’t thought to bring knives... again.

“There’ll probably be more stuff to fight the mushrooms with outside,” Marvin said. “So we need to go out and look around...” He walked over to the tent flap and stared at the fungi blocking the way. After a moment, he held out one of his crystals. And all of the boys watched, surprised, as the mushrooms seemed to curl away from it.

“Why are your rocks the thing that fights off the weird shrooms?!” Chase exclaimed.

“They’re magic,” Marvin insisted.

Though we do have to wonder how you managed to find magic crystals, JJ said. They’re all from different shops, and some were just on the ground, it’s weird how they can do this.

Marvin shrugged. “Maybe all crystals can ward off supernatural plants.”

“Mushrooms are not plants,” Schneep corrected.

“Well, whatever. C’mon, we need to clear the way.”

It was hard to get out of the tent with the mushrooms in the way. But after a while of pushing and throwing Marvin’s crystals at them, the four boys managed to fight their way out. It was pitch black outside, since the fire had long since gone out, so Schneep grabbed a second flashlight from his backpack and shone it around.

There were mushrooms growing all around the campsite. Stalks snaked across the dirt ground, ending in fuzzy green caps that varied in size from as big as a hand to as big as a head. None of the mushrooms actually grew out of the dirt. They all branched off each other, coming from a central point some ways away. Clusters of them gathered in front of the other two tents’ entrances. Most of the fungi were only shin-height, knee-high at most, but those came up to their waists.

“We have to get Jackie,” Schneep said.

“Right.” Chase nodded. “Be careful. Try not to touch any of these guys. They’re so big that they’ll probably send out too many spores to block.”

Chase led the way, creeping across the campsite, stepping over stalks on the ground. They reached the tent where Jackie was supposed to be asleep with his dad and two of his friends. After a minute or two, they managed to push through the mushrooms using the same method they did to get out of their own tent. Chase fell right through the open tent flap as soon as there was enough space. “Hand me a flashlight!” he whispered, clutching his crystal to his chest. Schneep passed one through to him, and he shone it around the room.

More spores were drifting through this tent. The flashlight beam fell on Mr. Mann’s sleeping face, which looked... peaceful. Then the beam searched the tent for a while, finding Jackie’s friends Fengge and Sylvester before settling on Jackie himself.

Chase crawled across the tent floor, carefully moving until he reached Jackie’s sleeping bag. Jackie also looked very peaceful. And... happy. No, that wasn’t exactly it. That was too exciting a word. He was... content. Chase almost felt bad waking him up, but he had to. He held the purple crystal in front of Jackie’s face and started shaking him, calling, “Jackie. Jackie! Wake up!”

After thirty seconds, Jackie opened his eyes. He blinked, and looked around the tent. Then, quietly, his eyes welled up with tears that slowly spilled over.

“Jackie?” Chase said hesitantly. “Are you alright? Why are you crying?”

“I-I’m fine.” Jackie wiped his eyes, sitting up. “I just...I had a dream. Not a bad one, a good one, but... anyway. What’s going on? It’s still dark.” In answer, Chase pointed his flashlight at the mushrooms crowding the tent entrance. Jackie’s eyes widened. “What...?”

“We gotta leave your tent first, we can talk outside,” Chase said. “Cover your face!”

A minute later, Jackie stood outside with the other four, surveying what happened to the camp. “This is insane,” he whispered, voice muffled under the hoodie he’d wrapped over his face. “They’re so big. Why are they so big? Where did they come from?”

JJ shrugged. We don’t know. But look. He pointed at the ground. They’re all growing from some other place. If we follow the stalks, we should figure out where they came from.

“How do we get rid of them?” Schneep asked.

“Well, burning them seemed to work.” Jackie walked over to the fire pit, staring down into it. “There are still some embers going. I know how to start a fire from that. We need to uproot them, then we can drag them into the fire.”

“But they’re so big,” Chase pointed out.

“Then we’ll break them up. Dad brought a couple saws. Just in case we needed to cut down branches for firewood. He also brought a shovel, so we can use that to dig up their roots. And...ah.” Jackie walked over to the picnic table and picked up the metal skewers they’d used to roast marshmallows. “These are pointy. We can probably figure out some way to use them.”

“Ah fucking sweet!” Marvin immediately ran over and grabbed one from Jackie, who then handed one out to the rest of the boys. “Okay. We gotta go over to where these are growing and uproot them. Onward!”

The group headed across the camp site, shining their flashlights across the strange green fungi. Chase held back a bit. Now that all his friends were rescued, a thought had started to creep into his mind. Would they figure out this was his fault? And, lurking beneath that... was there some way he could keep some of the mushrooms? He felt bad about even thinking that, especially after they’d put Jackie’s dad and friends to sleep, maybe forever. But the thought wouldn’t go away.

When they walked off the dirt path and into the forest, the mushrooms suddenly got bigger, as tall as Chase’s chest and with caps that were as big across as his whole arm. Spores began floating through the air without anyone even touching the mushrooms. They could all feel the effects even through their mouth coverings. Marvin seemed to be having the worst time of it, stumbling a lot. But eventually he got the idea to hold a crystal up by his head. The others copied him. Chase kind of hated how the dizziness died down a little when he did it. Why did this work?!

“Whoa.” Jackie, in front, stopped walking. The others crowded around him and saw the same thing he did. A tall mushroom rose up vertically from the ground, a bit taller than Jackie himself. Though its cap was as wide as Chase’s arm span, its stalk was thin, no thicker than the poles that held up road signs. And its cap was glowing slightly, the fuzz on its surface constantly drifting away in a thin but persistent cloud of spores. All the mushroom stalks linked up here, joining together into its stalk. And the bottom of its stalk...came out of a plastic sandwich bag.

What’s that doing here? JJ asked, pointing at the bag.

“That looks like the same sort of bag that Aunt Jess has,” Schneep said. “Like what we used to... put the mushrooms from the park... inside...” He trailed off, eyes wide.

“Did, uh...did anyone keep some of the mushrooms from the park?” Jackie asked tentatively. “You, uh, won’t be in trouble. This was probably an accident. It’s fine. Just... want to know. ”

Silence. Chase felt a pit opening up in his stomach, but he said nothing.

Then there was a whisper.

The spores drifting through the air seemed to cluster together. Chase stepped backwards as his vision started to blur, and he pressed the crystal against the side of his head to clear it up. He saw the others doing the same. Schneep actually looked in pain, like he had a headache. And then Chase heard the voice.

“What’re you doing here, sport? This isn’t a place you should be. Go on back to your tent. Go back to sleep. It will all be okay.”

The clustered spores started to look less like a cloud and more like a person.

Jackie gasped. “Mom?”

Schneep glanced at him. “Your mom is Chase’s mom?”

Marvin looked at them both. “Your mom is our grandma?”

JJ shook his head. I don’t think any of us are seeing the same thing.

“No, we’re...we’re not,” Chase said slowly. Because to him, the person was the same person he’d been missing this whole time.

“Go back to your tent,” the voice repeated. “Just go to sleep. Weren’t we having a nice time in that dream? Why would you want to leave it?”

“Shut up you bitch!” Marvin threw his crystal at the spore cloud. It broke up, immediately losing any sense of personhood, but Chase still heard the voice. And, judging by the expressions on the others, they could hear a voice too. Probably not the same one. But saying the same things. Go back to sleep. Enjoy the dream.

“Nobody listen to it!” Jackie snapped. He held up the skewers he grabbed and swung them at the tall mushroom, forming a gash in the stalk. “It’s trying to trick us!”

“Try not to breathe, either,” Schneep said, pressing his fabric covering closer to his face. “The spores are... they are sleeping us. Making us sleep.”

“But don’t you all want to sleep?” the voice said, sounding whispery, somehow far away and yet right next to them. “Enjoy the happiness we bring? One of you definitely does. One of you fed us, then brought us to this soft earth so we could help make you happy.”

None of us would do that! JJ protested.

“Yeah, we don’t want to feed freaky as fuck shrooms!” Marvin added.

Schneep nodded firmly.

Chase said nothing.

And Jackie noticed Chase’s silence. He glanced back at him. “Chase?”

“I...” Chase’s voice cracked. “I didn’t know... it would do this.”

“What?!” Marvin gasped. “You actually did it?! How?! How’d you feed the fucking mushrooms?!”

“I don’t know!” Chase shouted. “I-I just... I just kept a bag of them. A-and I would open it up, sometimes, and... and I’d, uh, let the spores out...”

“On purpose?!” Schneep gasped.

“Yes on purpose!” Chase snapped.

“These weird mushrooms are attacking our minds somehow,” Jackie said. “Maybe, just by letting them affect you, that made them stronger?”

“Yes,” the whispering voice said. “We want to help you be happy. And the more you let us help, the more we can help. Don’t you want to be happy?” The spores once again clustered, and the faint image of a person appeared for a brief moment before Marvin chucked another crystal at the illusion.

You don’t make us happy, JJ said.

“Then what were those dreams? When you look at us, what do you see? You see the people who make you happy, but who you cannot ever reach. Not the way you want to. We’ll bring them back. We’ll make everything perfect for you.”

Jackie’s eyes widened. “...oh.”

“But...but I do not understand!” Schneep protested. “Chase, how could you fall for this? You spend time with your mom every day.”

“It’s not my mom to me!” Chase snapped. “It’s not.”

Marvin blinked. “Then who could—”

“It’s my dad, you idiots!” Chase shouted. “It’s my dad! He used to be here, now he’s not! Now he’s back in America without Mom or me! He left! H-he said he wanted to stay, but he still left!” His vision was blurring again, but not from the spores. “A-and I haven’t seen him since my birthday, that was the last day I saw him, a-and I try to call him but he d-doesn’t always pick up.” His breathing hitched against his chest. The shirt wrapped around his face was starting to get wet. “A-and when he does pick up it’s always too short, it’s always too short, I-I wanna talk about what he’s doing, a-and why he’s doing it without me, but I don’t, because you can’t just ask that, a-and he always says he’s busy but I don’t know what’s making him busy, o-or why it has to be every time I talk to him, why can’t he just talk with me, why did he and Mom have to stop being in love and why did he have to leave and why couldn’t he just stay here so I could see him—”

“Hey, Chase, buddy, it’s okay.” Jackie bent down and suddenly wrapped his arm around Chase, surprising him into not talking. “It’s okay. It’s okay to miss him.”

Chase sniffled. “I don’t know why everything had to go bad at once! Dad left, a-and then my friend Chad went to camp for the summer, so I was—I was just alone. I-I thought I’d be alone for the summer, and I mean, summer is great anyway, but—”

“Well, we’re here now,” Jackie said gently. “Aren’t we?”

“Yeah, but—but you and Marvin and JJ aren’t in my year, I-I can’t hang out with you guys all the time. A-and Schneep is gonna go back to Germany at the end of the summer, a-and that’s—that’s so soon! Summer is already half over, a-and then I’m gonna go back to school, a-and even when Chad gets back he’s not gonna get it after all the weird magic stuff we’ve found—”

“Hey, take a moment to breathe, little man.” Jackie squeezed him a bit tighter. “Take a moment to breathe.”

Chase nodded, and tried to take a deep breath. It was hard. He wanted to keep breathing in short, quick bursts, but he forced himself to slow down. As he breathed shakily, he looked around at the others, their faces hard to see in the flashlight glow. Marvin looked sad, tears welling up in his eyes. Jameson didn’t know how to react, just shaking his head back and forth. And Schneep... Schneep was shocked. Surprised. And maybe a little scared.

“You good?” Jackie asked.

“Yeah,” Chase mumbled.

“Good.” Jackie pulled back a little so Chase could see his face. “Look. I know, it’s hard. You miss your dad. He went away and that’s hard. It feels unfair. Trust me, I know. And I know why you’d want to keep this weird... mushroom-induced happiness around. It lets you see him again. That dream, you woke me up from? I...I also saw someone who I hadn’t seen in a long time. I never thought I’d see her again, but then I did, and it was hard to wake up from that dream.” He took a deep breath. “But...it’s not good to stay in that dream. It’s not real. And while you’re being happy in the dream world, your body in the real world is just sitting there. Missing out on everything you could be doing. Missing out on all the things you could do with the people around you. Like us. People who care about you. Who want you to be happy just because, and not because we’re some crazy mushrooms who will feed off your happiness. We’ll miss you if you stay in that dream, Chase. So... don’t.”

Chase didn’t have any response for that. He looked at the others. “I would be very sad if you were just in a dream the whole time,” Schneep agreed. “And...and you would miss out on all your television shows, right?”

We’d never get to play games together again, JJ said.

“Yeah!” Marvin nodded. “These mushroom fuckers don’t know real happiness. If they did, my dream would’ve had you in it.”

Chase laughed. He wiped his eyes. “Okay. You... you’re all right.”

“No, they’re not!” The whispered voice sounded louder, more urgent. “You don’t want to stay out here! You want a dream, where nothing will hurt you, and nobody will leave. You can stay with the people you care about forever!”

Chase lifted up the metal skewer he’d taken from Jackie. “No. I can stay with fake people forever. And that’s not what I want.” And he lunged forward, driving the skewer into the stem of the tall mushroom. He pushed until he could feel it come out the other side, then used all his strength to yank it to the side, where it burst out of the side of the stem. The tall mushroom swayed, no longer able to support its own weight, then fell. The rest of the stem snapped with the collapse. Spores flew up into the air, and everyone quickly backed away.

They stared at the fallen mushroom for a while. Then Marvin said, “That was fucking awesome.” He giggled excitedly. “You got it in one fell swoop.”

It’s not over yet, JJ reminded everyone.

Jackie nodded. “Right. There’s all the rest of this stuff.” He sighed. “This’ll take half the night to clean up. So better start now. You guys start skewering the rest of these mushrooms. I’ll go start the fire.”

++++++++++++++++++++

It didn’t take half the night to dislodge and burn all the mushrooms.

It. Took. Forever.

There was no real way to tell time, since none of them had watches, but JJ said that the moon had moved “significantly” in the sky by the time they were done. These supernatural mushrooms were extremely flammable—even the largest pieces turning to ash in a minute—but they had to be careful when burning them, so they wouldn’t start a forest fire. That involved tearing them up into small pieces to slowly feed the fire. And that involved a lot of manual labor, using the skewers and Mr. Mann’s saws to break through the stems and caps. But eventually, they’d scoured every inch of the campsite and the surrounding forest with flashlights, and didn’t see any more mushrooms.

“Alright.” Jackie collapsed on the picnic bench, breathing heavily. “You guys... can go sleep now. I’ll... put out the fire.”

And the others were too tired to offer to help. They all crawled back into the tent, zipped up the mushroom-free opening, and fell into their sleeping bags. Within a minute, Chase could hear JJ softly almost-snoring, and he could feel Marvin’s slow breathing next to him.

He was just about to drift off himself when Schneep whispered, “Chase.”

“Hmm?” he mumbled, cracking open an eye to look at him.

“What you said back there,” Schneep said. “About me leaving after summer is over. Is that true?”

Chase was confused. “Uh...yeah. You should know that. You’re the visitor.”

“Visitor?”

“Yeah.”

Schneep was quiet for a while Then, softly, he let out a simple “...oh.” And rolled over, facing away from Chase.

That was weird. Schneep would know that he was staying for the summer. After all, his parents were still in Germany. He had school and friends to go back to. Why did he seem so puzzled? And so... sad?

Chase couldn’t stay awake for long enough to figure it out. He closed his eyes and fell into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

[thelikesofus]

Loving the Christmas hat btw

Ao3 wrapped asks for you my love

11 22 5

💕

Hehehe Thank you Spotty! Doesn't he looks so adorable! 🎅🏼 I hope you're having a wonderful weekend xxx

5. What work of yours got more feedback than you expected?

I wrote a post-tsunamic fluff fic last week (i'm so glad i get to hold you) and I was very much expecting it to be one of those fics that just gets lost in the sea of fics under the buddie tag because the tsunami was so long again and the fic was only 2k, I honestly thought no one would really care, I just had a lot of emotions I needed to write down. But I got so many lovely comments saying how much people loved the fic and how it filled a gap in that whole tsunami arc for them and I'm so glad I was able to provide that.

11. What work took you the longest to write?

My Miscommunication Fic, Words Fall Short (Tongue Tied and Lonely), definitely took the longest. I think I spent just under a month on it and that was writing almost every night. It also has the highest word count of all my fics this year so it was bound to take longer to write.

22. Which work has the most comments?

Again, Words Fall Short has the most comment. It says 79 on AO3 but at least half of those are me replying so there are probably more like 40ish comments from readers.

(Massive thank you to everyone who has commented on this fic and any of my others, I would bake cookies for you all if I could! 🍪)

send me a number from the ao3 wrapped [writers edition] 💌

[thetentaclecommander]

Interesting Fic Traction Notes I'm not a stat/views whore but I do look at them in fascination. I swore I read somewhere that long fics don't get the most hits and that Ao3 tends to skews towards short fics and porn but in looking at my stats the highest engagement (hits/favs/comments/subs/bookmarks) is mainly on longfics (fics longer than 2 chapters and over imo is a longfic). In order it goes: -2 chapter smut (that reader fic of all things, odd.) -longfic smut fics -a one shot smut fic -longfic that isn't smut centered (makes sense cause of the amount of years it has been up) -more smut one shots -a smut compilation -longfics that aren't smut centered -that one canon compliant one -brutal violent sex fics (the rapey and or heavily murderkinky ones) -then one shots that are just dreamy weird plot heavy -newer canon compliant or not as smutty stuff at the bottom (or new stuff less than a few months old in general) Sorting by views/hits renders mostly the same result (and hits, like okay that's a lot to me even including my rereads to edit and read my own stuff and before I was cross posting to here).

So in one way, yeah 'smut sells' proves true, but the length doesn't. If anything my short fics tend to get passed over faster especially anything sub 1,000 words (in context my largest longfic smut fic is over 35k words). My highest engaged fics tend to with a lone 2k exception, cap out around 7-8k words. Also, only straight forward pwp or little plot are like this as too much emotional/plot investment ranks way lower. Well, the murderkinky violent ones rank lower too, intentionally as I know what I wrote - but also brings in a certain niche of reader so there's that. I can't even go by comment threads as sure, the top three are longfics understandably, but then it evens out to a similar range across the board no matter the length. Usually due to regular commenters (I <3 u guys!). Oddly, I find my human focused/human shippy ones aren't as well viewed but I also think it's a combo of my set niche of 'monsterfucker', doing exclusively rare pairs and being 'that asshole that writes N/J all the time' together so it could be simply not writing as expected of my account. Though getting engagement on those is pretty cool because of these 'hurdles', not in spite of them! I enjoy being convincing outside of my wheelhouse, too. So what I get from all this is the Ao3 adage of 'what is more likely to be engaged with' is on crack and just not reliable, at least in my case. Pretty on brand for me really (with the self-awareness I am niche in general). I both prove the adage both true and false oddly. Resi to note is not a huge fandom just vocal (we don't even rank in the larger Ao3 fandom poles) so that could be what's causing the skew? I also see what you folks cheer for overall (readers, pwp and hyper erotic murder/violence in that order). I also think that one reader fic* I think hit the DBD crowd unintentionally - I've never played lol. Also to note, I see those bookmarks. The sheer amount of private ones for an account that is hard to miss in larger Resi tag and almost always in that specific rare ship tag is so high and it's hilarious and amazing to me. The thing about people who hide their porn habits through bookmarks is *very* true - I hope y'all were well fed! I cackle every time cause christ on a cracker the sheer amount of them solely on the porn, I see you /wink *Though I might...do that male!reader/Nem fic I've been saying that for like 2+ years now at some point because I like balance since I've already done female and gender neutral readers.

[lovebykai]

Possessive

》 Comissioned

Type: Short [ 1K to 2K ]

Word Count: 1.2K

Pairing: Ran x Reader x Rindou

Warning(s): Mutual Yandere Vibes. Toxic Relationships. Infidelity But Not Really.

Authors Note: I decided not to add this to the Pretty Girl universe strictly because the prompt didn't work with the characterization I used for it. 🙏🏻 But it is very similar so I hope it scratches the itch for you! Also there was... a lot you wanted to fit in this and I tried to hit all the points but if I missed the mark please forgive me.

As an aside, yes, I will take commissions to add to any series I write as long as the prompt works with the characterization I'm using!

The hickeys were what did it.

Ran could feel himself sinking deeper and deeper into the rage, fingers dancing on his thigh the longer he stared. You were pointedly not acknowledging him after he chased -- you somehow managed to prevent any maiming or murder, to his annoyance -- the interloper from the apartment you three shared.

Seeing you marked by someone other than him or his brother was making him insane.

Your complete nonchalance about it all wasn't helping either. In fact, you seemed to be deliberately tilting your head to draw attention to your neck. Was this how you felt when you caught him or Rindou with someone else? No wonder you always lost your shit.

"What the fuck is that?" It's Rindou who snaps, fists balled up by his sides. His gaze is so focused that Ran is pretty sure he can see your pulse jump from across the room. His little brother never loses his 'temper with you, so it must be a shock to your system.

A shock that has you shifting a glare on him that would melt steel.

"Hickeys, Rin, why?" There's an innocent lilt to your voice that would amuse them at any other time, but considering the circumstances Ran thinks it's best not to acknowledge that.

"From who?" You actually smirk and he swears he can feel the temperature of the room drop.

"Does it matter? It's not like it's anything you haven't done." Rindou rolls his neck, clearly trying to come up with a way to keep his temper. Rans own irritation seems to have leveled out as his brothers spikes, watching you with his standard lazy smile.

"... stupid." Your head cocks to one side at the younger mans mumble, expression going slack for a moment.

"Excuse me?" Ran can't help but sniff derisively and your attention shifts with a small sneer beginning to form.

"You know what? I don't need this." You finally bite out when the silence drags on, tipping the scales. Rindou sneers, gaze narrowing on you like he can't believe you had the audacity to actually snap back at them.

Ran cant even blame him; he's shocked, too. You'd become so numb to their extracurricular activities that he guessed it'd just become expectation for you to put up with them. The fact you were not only lashing out like you had in the early years, but managing to hit them where it hurt was almost impressive.

"Well, we don't need you." Its a mistake the moment it passes his lips. A jab that hits a little too hard; he can see it from the way your eyes widen a fraction-- the sudden glimmer in the corners.

"Fuck you, Ran." You slam the door on the way out and Rindou turns that icy look on him before heading towards his bedroom.

♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡

A week.

You're gone for a week and Rindou is sick. Beyond sick, even. Swiping a hand down his face, he lets out a long sigh. This wasnt what he wanted at all; they've been scouring all of Tokyo searching. You couldn't have just vanished.

... could you?

No, no you wouldnt have left like this.

So when one of his lackeys finally calls to tell him where you are, he's out the door and on his way before the address is even finished being read off to him.

A quick text to Ran where to meet the two of you; he's not even a little bit surprised when he pulls up to the little diner you always forced him to pick up on his way home. Of course somewhere like this is where they'd finally find you.

You see him the moment he enters the room, lips pursing in a way that lets him know you've already forgiven him despite the glare. You're just like that; the idea you'd lasted this long without contacting them was such an anomaly it was almost laughable.

"Bunny--" You side step him, heading for the exit with a plastic bag in your hand and promptly get cornered by Ran on the sidewalk.

"My little lamb." The croon makes you falter for a moment, eyes darting between the two of them. You've always been weak for them and that's part of your appeal-- part of why they keep you.

"Move, Ran." When his older brother shakes his head, you try to go around them once more only for Rindou to grip your forearm. It makes you snarl, turning to bare your teeth and bite out a scathing remark, but then Ran is in grabbing distance, too.

Taking the hint, his brother grabs your other arm and snatches the food before they haul you towards the car. Your legs swing out wildly as you try to flail away, letting out a series of curses that are tinged with hints of laughter.

Not that you'd ever admit it. That would mean admitting you were just being a brat for brattings sake, and that the anger had already drained out of you days ago. Your screeching and kicking does nothing; he makes sure to lock the doors and give any curious bystanders a glare that could kill before getting into the front seat and pulling away from the curb.

♡ ~ ♡ ~ ♡

"I'm sorry." Ran was surprised to hear it pass Rindous lips as he cupped your face in his hands, thumbs running softly along the apples of your cheeks.

You'd calmed down on the ride home, settling for glaring intently at Ran with folded arms the entire time. Now, you were just tired. It was written on every line if your face.

"I know." You sigh after a long moment, slumping in defeat as your eyes flutter closed.

Of course you know. This situation was washed, rinsed, and repeated throughout your relationship. It was the same old song and dance that you three had been doing since you were teenagers, only in reverse this time.

"Baby..." You shake your head, leaning forward to press a swift kiss to Rindous lips before turning your gaze onto Ran.

He didn't want to apologize.

Admitting that he'd done something wrong didn't sit well with him; you were theirs and you'd let someone else put their mark on you. As if it didn't matter. As if they didnt matter.

"I love you." Was what he said instead and your eyes softened in that old familiar way, stepping forward into his opened arms. The two of you just stay like that for a long moment, arms locked possessively around one another.

"... I broke his legs."

"What?" The whisper makes both boys tense, minds already running through what they need to do to clean this up. Who did they need to bribe? What threats had to be made?

"I told him no marks!"

Rindou bursts into a fit of laughter before his arms wrap around the two of you with enough enthusiasm it nearly sends you all toppling over. Ran presses a kiss to your head and then shares a smirk with his brother. You were still here. Still theirs.

Were they going to forgive your little fling for their transgressions, though?

Fuck no.

He was sure you thought broken legs was enough of a punishment, but... well, you'd told the little shit no marks and he'd deliberately marked you anyway? Mm. No. They wouldn't have let it stand that his dick had been anywhere near you to begin with; the fact he'd put his dick in you and ignored the limits you set was unforgivable.

It was just a matter of finessing some information from you about where to find him.

And now they had all the time in the world to figure it out.

[mindofharry]

In which bucky realises the mistake he made and does everything in his power to get you back.

losing you masterlist: here!

smut!! fluff!! angst!! i’m so fucking in love with this series. mean!bucky, sex and a bit of grovelling! ALSO!!! thank you for 2k, i never expected to get this far with this page. writing has always been a passion for me so thank you guys for taking time out of your day to read my stuff. i appreciate and love you all immensely <3 happy reading!

The first thing bucky notices about you not being here, is the how quiet and lonely his apartment is. Usually, your moans, whimpers and giggles fill the small space. Not anymore. The only noise he can hear is you saying those words to him.

“You’re selfish and mean. And i deserve better”

It felt like it was ringing in his ear, no matter how loud the tv is or the children running up and down the hall, it was on a continuous loop. Selfish. Mean. Deserve better. It was meant to be no strings attached, something to let off a little steam. But then bucky got those butterflies, he wanted to take you dancing, take you to meet his friends. He didn’t like the feeling, so he didn’t the only thing he knew how to do.

Push you away.

Bucky didn’t like how he felt with you, he couldn’t understand it. He felt like he couldn’t be that person for you no matter how fucking hard he tried, bucky couldn’t be the one you cuddled up with after a stressful day. He couldn’t be the one cooking dinner for you. And he most definitely can’t be the person loving you, he’s just not programmed for that. Bucky hasn’t felt love in decades. He doesn’t know how to process it yet.

Bucky knew what he did was wrong and now laying on the ground, his back against the hard wood, the only thing he wanted was you. Y/N.

Bucky wanted Y/N.

He decided then and there, he would fix himself up, go to his therapist. And get you back.

Back in your apartment, you were still in your dress, only this time your make up was smudged and your date was cancelled. Who were you kidding? Nobody could replace bucky barnes, nobody. Fuck, you love him so much. This feeling, it’s so big. It feel like it’s taking up all of your body, this fire so big that no one can put out. Bucky is a drug, and you’ve definitely become addicted.

After what felt like hours staring at your wall, you decide it’s best to head to bed and just forget about what a disaster this night has been.

“So” Dr Raynor said, crossing her legs over. Bucky was sat in front of her, his legs bouncing up and down as his therapist tried to figure him out. Bucky hated therapy. He hated everything to do with it, he would rather be put in jail than do this bullshit sharing feelings thing.

But if he wanted any chance of getting you back, in his bed, kissing him than he would do it.

Bucky barnes was officially smitten.

“Tell me” Dr Raynor said, leaning foward. “What’s going on, james?” She asked and bucky sighed placing a hand over his eyes.

“I need help” He said and Dr Raynor nodded. “Well, yeah. That much is obvious” She teased making bucky roll his eyes.

“With a girl” He said and his therapist grunted leaning back in her seat. Bucky hasn’t been this embarrassed since middle school when he peed his pants and had to go home early, everyone laughed at him in the playground. He never forgot that, but right now, his therapist trying to keep her laughs in made him feel a little small and fragile.

“Fine. I’ll find someone else” He mumbled, moving to get up. Dr Raynor settled herself down and held her hand up to stop him. “Oh, be quiet. Tell me about this girl” She said putting her notebook down. Bucky looked down at his hands and smiled.

It almost startled the therapist, she’d never seen him smile like that. Or ever, for that matter.

“Y/N” He started.

“Y/N is the most beautiful and wise woman i’ve ever met” He said. “Always there for me, willing to do just about anything i asked her to do. Fuck, she’s the best thing that’s happened to me, since well ever” Bucky said and the therapist nodded.

“But i fucked it up. Said somethings i didn’t mean and now she won’t even look me in the eye. I was so shitty to her just because i couldn’t admit my own feelings.” Bucky groaned and Dr raynor nodded agreeing.

“James, what do you want me to tell you? You messed up, now go and apologise” She said and buckys eyes widened. “I can’t just apologise to her” He said and his therapist lifted her hand up.

“Exactly. Problem solved”

Bucky made a noise of complaint while dr raynor packed up her stuff. “See you next week, lover boy” she said walking out of the room and leaving bucky to his own thoughts.

Flowers? Chocolates? Dancing? A poem? What do women like you, like these days? God, he’s still way too new in this world to be thinking about these things. But he really fucking needs you. He needs you and your jokes, you and your witty nature.

Bucky just needs you, and he’s about to do anything in his power to get you back, starting with an apology.

You were sitting in your living room a glass of wine in your hand and new girl on in the background. Your mind was somewhere else, you’ve just felt off all day. You keep zoning out, not being able to concentrate. Is this what a broken heart feels like? A knock on the door brings out of your thoughts and back to reality. A shitty fucking reality. You sigh and put your wine down on the table and make your way over the front door, you nearly tripped over your stiletto heels on the way there. You didn’t move them last night because you were so exhausted and out of it.

Opening the door you see bucky. Just the man you didn’t want to see, you begin to close the door in his face when his foot blocks it. “Please, just hear me out” He begged and you sighed crossing your arms over your chest.

“Can i come in?” Bucky asked and you scoffed.

“Why should i let you come in? Do you remember what you did the last time?” You said and bucky placed a hand over his eyes, obviously frustrated. You didn’t understand why, he made your place in his life pretty clear.

“I should come in because i need to apologise to you. For everything. The way i treated you and the things i said. I need to apologise, so please let me in”

You sighed and opened up the door wider and walked down the hallway. You sat back down on the couch taking a gulp of you wine. You were so easy, you thought. You barley put up a fight, you should’ve just closed the door in his face. But you did want to hear what he had to say, what bullshit apology he’d come up with.

“So?” You said and bucky nodded sitting beside you.

“I miss you” He started and you rolled your eyes. “No, fuck. I do miss you, but i’m sorry. I’m really fucking sorry” Bucky said grabbing your hand. You wanted to pull away but you just couldn’t, his hand felt so good in yours. You leaned over and put your wine on the coffee table. Bucky took that as permission to take your other hand.

“I had feelings for you, no i have feelings for you. I just, i’m not good at expressing myself, i’m working on it. My therapist told me to get you flowers and shit, but i left them in my apartment and this is just a whole mess” Bucky ranted, you had to bite your lip to make you not burst out with laughter.

“You talked about to your therapist?” You asked, giggling. Fuck, even your laugh is beautiful. What is there not love about you?

“I’m sorry” He said, his thumb rubbing over your knuckles. “I have feelings for you, and i didn’t know how to express that. So i pushed you away and treated you so badly. I’m going to apologise for that until the day i die. I just, i like you a lot Y/N” he said and you could feel your cheeks burn.

You really weren’t expecting that.

“My thought process was that i would never be that person, you know that boyfriend who’s ready to cook dinner and take the dogs for a walk” He said and you nodded understand.

“But i’m willing to do that for you, if you’d give me another chance”

You looked up at him, staring into those beautiful wide eyes. This is what you’ve been waiting for.

“Bucky....”

He moved closer to you bringing a hand to your cheek. “Please, i have hundreds of flowers and like 10 boxes of chocolates back in my apartment. Come back with me? Please?” He asked, so much vulnerability could be heard. You sighed and looked around.

You didn’t deserve what happened, but you know he’s sorry. Maybe a little more grovelling? Make up sex is the best, though. You contemplate a little longer and then nod.

“Yeah, i’ll stay at yours for a bit”

Bucky nearly cried when you said that. Maybe he’d actually have a chance.

He helped you up from the couch and watched you get your shoes. He could get use to this. “You ready?” He asked holding out his hand, you nodded taking it. It felt nice to be wanted.

After a short walk to buckys apartment, your met with (literally hundreds) of yellow flowers. You could cry, he did this all for you? You lift your hand to your mouth and look around the room.

“Do you hate it? I can get better-“

You interrupt him with a peck to the lips. He was shocked, but he didn’t hesitate with kissing you back. He placed both of his hands on the side of your head and as you gasped, he slipped his tongue in.

“Fuck, i missed you” you said in between kisses, you moved your hands to his chest. Bucky pulled away and moved back.

“I just want you to know, that i wasn’t planning on seducing you or anything. If you want i have sex we will, if you don’t, then we’ll watch a movie. There’s no pressure” He said reassuring you. You smirked and pecked his lips.

“Why don’t we go to your bedroom?”

Bucky pulls you along to his room, lifting you up once he opens the door. “Your room is messy” You said and Bucky laughed. “Hasn’t been the same without you” He said and you pouted, kissing his lips.

“I’m sorry about that, let me help you?” You said taking your shirt off, leaving you only in your pjs short and bare breasts. Bucky was staring at you intently, making your nipples harden. He reached out and ran his fingers across your nipples making you moan with pleasure. His finger was cold and just what you needed.

“Strip and then you’re going to ride me. Been too long princess” Bucky said and you nodded quickly taking your shorts and skimpy underwear off.

“Fuck” Bucky said as you lay down on the bed, legs wide open. You were dripping wet, your hands coming down to play with yourself a little. “You’re gorgeous,” He said, kissing the inside of your thigh.

“Seems like you’re wet enough for me, yeah? i’ll play with you more later” He said and you nodded, just wanting him to be in you.

Bucky rolled over and took a condom out from the door, he quickly got out of his clothes and you almost moaned at the sight of him putting on that condom. He really does like hot doing anything.

Bucky lays down his head on his pillow and you quickly and swiftly move to sit on his lap, your knees either side of him.

You placed his cock, in your dripping pussy and loved the sound he made. Bucky groaned, his hands coming to your hips immediately, to guide you at a good pace. Your hands moved to his chest, scratching at it slightly, bucky moaned at that too. Pain kink, you figured that out pretty quickly. You began to move your hips and created a good rhythm.

“Oh, god” You whimpered, as you bounced on Bucky's cock.

“Missed you, and this” Bucky said and you nodded, your hips bucking.

You begin to move faster and faster, the bed frame hitting against the wall and bucky groans and your whimpers the only thing you can hear. God, you missed him and his cock so much. Bucky is so deep inside of you, you can feel everything. He’s so good at this, sometimes he doesn’t even have to try.

“This…. is so good…..” You said whimpering, leaning down to peck his lips. Bucky responded, moving his hands to your breasts and giving them a squeeze.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asked, bucking his hips up fucking you faster. You nodded and moaned.

“Please! Oh fuck” You screamed, feeling that pleasure start to build up. As the both of you came down from your highs, bucky brought you into his chest.

“I’m never losing you again”

Taglist: @formulamendes @ityagirljay @josegandulfo @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @beminetokeep @jbcalway @lxdyred @idkwhttocallmysrlf <33

[belphies-cuhm-sluht]

A continuation on the cheating Lucifer post plzzzz x

Mystic Rhythms (Lucifer x GN!MC)

A/N : I fell up my stairs today and bruised my kneecaps and my forearms when I tried to catch myself... That shit is embarrassing, especially when everyone runs out of their rooms to see you laying there trying to figure out what the fuck just happened. My knees hurt. But, anyway... The title is a song that I was listening to while I wrote this... It doesn't have anything to do with the writing at all, it's just a damn good song. Mystic Rhythms by Rush, highly recommend.

Part 1

Word Count : 2k T/W : cheating ; mentions of cheating ; Lucifer being a flat out dickhole ;

There was no way that you could possibly leave. Lord Diavolo wouldn’t allow it, would he? Of course not. In a matter of days you would emerge from your room, running back through the doors of his office to tell him how much you missed him. He was sure of it, his pride wouldn’t let him think any different. He would go about his days as if nothing happened, because in his mind, nothing happened at all. It was a little bit of fun to take his mind off of the stress that came along with his work, and yes, he could have gone to you for that kind of fun, but he also needed a little bit of change, a little bit of something to keep things interesting. It wasn’t exactly his fault that you happened to catch him having his fun. You shouldn’t have been out of the house anyway, a matter that he would have to handle with his brothers. They should have been watching you, making sure that you didn’t leave the house at all. Surely they know how dangerous the Devildom is outside of the House of Lamentation. It was everyone else’s fault but his own, and he’d stick by that until you and everyone else believed him.

Days passed and the armchair across from his desk began to bother him. It was empty, the entirety of the office was empty. Things were quiet, not a peep from even his brothers who would usually barge in and bother him at any given moment. It used to be annoying, but now it just seemed strange that it wasn’t happening at all. Not only did the lack of his brother's constant interruptions cause him unease, but the lack of you. Was he so used to you being there that the absence was this bothersome to him? It shouldn’t be that way, it shouldn’t bother him at all, but he was finding it increasingly difficult to focus on his work without some sort of distraction. These distractions gave him breaks, they allowed his mind that tiny bit of time to relax, to ease the stress. Now there was nothing, nothing but the work in front of him, and it was, in a sense, almost worse than before you got there at all. Even then, he had his brothers to agitate him. Now it just seemed like they were avoiding him, or doing everything in their power to drive him nuts by not being around. It made no sense to him, none at all. He should be thankful for the silence, for the uninterrupted time that he was being given to finish his tasks at hand, but he wasn’t. His phone vibrated on the desk, and in the complete silence of his office it sounded so loud, loud enough to make him jump back for a moment before fumbling forward to grab it. There was no reason to be like this, his mind was reeling for no particular reason at all, at least that’s what he told himself. He told himself a lot of things, most of them were based on his pride, or they were based on the image of himself that he wanted everyone to believe was real. Much like the whole cheating thing, something that he’d never willingly admit to, he didn’t want anyone to think he was the kind of demon to do such a thing. Not only would it ruin his image, but it would ruin the image of Lord Diavolo who he was around more often than not. A little harmless fun shouldn’t potentially ruin the image of the Future King, should it? There it was again, his subconscious mind speaking what he couldn’t out loud, taking his mind off of the phone that was now in his hand until it vibrated again. He assumed that it was you, prideful assumptions based off of thoughts that held no reason. If he were to be honest with himself, he knew that there was no reason for you to call him at all. If he were to be fully honest with himself, he knew all too well that there was no way for you to call him or message him at all if you had really done what you said you would do. But being honest with himself isn’t something that he’s good at. Being honest with anyone isn’t his best skill. There was no need to be honest when lies are much easier to live with. “You’ve been silent for a while, is everything alright?” The message read, and the name at the top wasn’t one that he’d like to see, but it was one that he knew well. Silence, it was becoming something that he was surrounded by. He wasn’t silent, but the world around him seemed to turn that way. It was penetrable and unbearable, he couldn’t take it for a moment more. With the push of a button and a swipe of his gloved finger, he quickly turned off his phone and placed it back on his desk. They could bear the silence for a little while longer, but he couldn’t. He needed to talk to someone, he needed to talk to you, even if it meant that you were yelling at him, screaming at him for the acts that he committed. His office wasn’t the only room that way empty, the house itself seemed to have been abandoned. There were no sounds of life coming from any of his brother's rooms, and he found it hard to imagine that all of them had a place to be that wasn’t inside these four walls, especially Leviathan. This only had him moving faster down the corridor until he finally reached the door to your room. He didn’t bother with knocking, the sound of his knuckles against the wood would be deafening in the silence. With a quick turn of the doorknob it was pushed open, revealing to him the truth of

the words that you had said when you walked out of his office. You were gone, you had actually left, and whether you had actually gone back up to the human realm or just gone somewhere else in the Devildom, one thing was clear. You didn’t want to be around him, you didn’t even want to be under the same roof as him, and it seemed that his brother’s felt the same way. He was alone, and as pleasant as the thought seemed to him before, now it scared him.

You sat on the bed in your room, looking up at the six demons who refused to let you go alone. They had tried to make you stay in the Devildom, but upon hearing about what Lucifer had done, they completely understood why you’d want to leave, as hard as it was for them. It didn’t change the fact that they cared about you though, far more than anyone you had ever known, and they weren’t going to leave until they knew for a fact that you’d be safe without them. “Is there any way that you can fix her D.D.D so that it’ll work up here?” Satan asked, looking over at Levi who was awkwardly looking around your bedroom. You weren’t sure if his demeanor was based on the fact that he was in someone’s room other than his own, or if it was the fact that he was in your room, but Satan’s question had him stumbling over his words for a second before answering his brother. “I’m… I’m not sure. I-It’s never been done before, I’ve never had to do it… It might take a couple days… J-Just to figure everything out… You know…” He ran his hand through his hair before sitting down on the floor, nervously twirling the drawstrings of his sweatpants around his finger as the motors in his mind seemed to visibly turn. You didn’t want him to overthink it, and you didn’t want him to stress himself out by thinking too hard about it, so you quickly slid off the edge of your bed to sit next to him on the floor, patting his knee and giving him a little smile. “Don’t worry too much about it right now, alright? We’ll figure something out.” Your hand on his knee had his cheeks burning bright red, but he quickly nodded in agreement, and you could almost see the stress leaving him as he finally relaxed. “So, since you all are here… I can order some food to the house for dinner?” It was strange having them all there, well, all but one of them… It was strange, yet comforting. You didn’t want to be alone, not right now, not after everything that happened, so you were grateful for their presence. The mention of food had Beel lighting up, practically dropping to the floor next to you and wrapping his arm around your shoulder. “Dinner and movies? Human world movies? And since Levi said it could take a few days, we can all stay here and sleep in your room, right?” It was impossible to tell him no, he looked so excited at the thought of it, and everyone else in the room had perked up at his words. There was no way that they would all be able to fit in your bed though, and all of them sleeping on the floor didn’t sit right with you. You’d have to figure something out, and it would most likely turn into a shopping trip to buy more blankets and pillows just so they’d be comfortable. The thought of a sleepover, in a sense, was nice though. It would be the perfect way to keep your mind off of everything, for you to relax, laugh, and have some fun with your six favorite demons.

The door knocked just as the six of you settled into the couch, the movie had just been unpaused and everyone was taking the first bites of their pizza slices. Everything had been delivered, there was no reason for the door to knock, so you decided to ignore it, just as all the other brothers did, hoping that whoever it was would take the hint and go away. That wasn’t the case though, and the knock came louder this time, almost like whoever it was was trying to break down your door. “You don’t have to pause it… Maybe it’s the delivery guy… Maybe I forgot something…” You shrugged, pushing yourself up from the couch and walking over to the door. You weren’t expecting anyone, you weren’t expecting anything, and you surely weren’t expecting him. Your stomach dropped when you saw him, his crimson eyes boring into your own. “I see you have quite the party going on here. Shame I wasn’t invited since I am the reason for this gathering, am I not?” It seemed that in that moment, time stood still. The wind that had been rustling the leaves of the trees had suddenly come to a stop, the sounds of the movie behind you had gone silent, even the sound of fabric brushing against itself whenever the brothers shifted on the couch wasn’t heard anymore. Everything had gone still, everything had become eerily quiet, and the only things you could hear was Lucifer’s voice and the sound of your heart beating faster in your chest. “Oh, don’t worry darling. I only had to take care of a few minor details, just to make sure our conversation wasn’t interrupted by my brothers.” His smirk sent shivers down your spine and had your stomach doing flips. This was the last place you expected to see him, but then again, you had told him that you wanted to leave. The only thing was, you didn’t expect him to follow you. It had taken days for you to convince Lord Diavolo to let you go back to the human realm, especially with all the other brothers begging you not to, begging Lord Diavolo not to agree, but he had finally allowed it, and that was the day that Lucifer decided to come to you. It was pathetic, and seeing him made you physically ill, but you had to stay strong just as you had before. “What are you doing here?”

[oneoftheprettynerds]

Just My Type: Dark!Steve x Reader (Mob AU)

Chapter 2 in the Lipstick and Crayons Series.

Chapter 1: Welcome to the Darkside

Main Masterlist

A/N: This chapter is 2K words more than the last chapter and I’ve second guessed every single line in this one. This story is getting a lot of traction guys and I’m equal parts happy and scared. Thank you for the nice comments, they do encourage me. Also I’m just ranting feel free to skip this note haha. Your support in any form: like, comment or reblog is appreciated greatly. Also you can dm if you want to be friends, God knows I need those. Hopefully, this chap was worth the wait. Also, I made a poster for this on the main masterlist so check that out, it might be foreshadowing dome plot.

Warning: Eventual Non-Con, Sickening Threats, Mob Themes, Violence, Death, Manipulation, a mild mental breakdown, Cheap Tricks later.

Genres + Characters: Mob AU, Single Parents AU, Steve Rogers x Reader.

Summary: Steve can't ever repay you for what you did. After meeting you, Steve believes his broken family is the missing piece in the puzzle of your own wrecked one. Indebting the crime lord to you has been the biggest mistake of your life, cause now you can't get rid of him, no matter what. Loyalty and favours go a long way in the mob.

Chapter 2: Just My Type

It had almost been a week since the incident and you had barely gotten a wink of sleep. When you drove back to your house that night, Steve surprisingly didn’t argue as you had expected. After that friend of his whispered something in his ears, you only assumed he was needed elsewhere and you couldn’t be more thankful for that. They escorted you to your car and Steve thanked you with a strained smile, words genuine but eyes calculating. You didn’t even wonder what went inside his head. You were thankful for the peace and quiet of your own car, content to just get out of the area and into your humble abode.

After you put the already asleep Grace to bed, you couldn’t bring yourself to get out of her room. You just sat on the floor beside the bed, hand intertwined with hers as you rested your head beside her tummy on the mattress.

Your adrenaline wore off and your limbs ached as your thoughts finally settled into place, the gravity of the catastrophe a few hours prior hitting you. Tears made their way down your cheeks as you realized that you both could have very well died tonight.

One bullet could have sealed each of your lives and you were basically defenseless had Steve not saved you against the creeping assaulter. You couldn’t commend yourself for even defending yourself against one attacker, the guilt of killing someone harboring in your tired head. Your quiet whimpers eventually wore you out, while Grace’s shallow breaths lulled you to sleep.

You didn’t manage to sleep for long though, every time your eyes closed, horrific images flashed in your mind. A blood curdling scream here, heaps of dead bodies there, with distant exploding sounds all around. You could see men clad in black holding guns to Grace’s head and whensoever you woke up, you just wondered how much more creative your mind could get, making these visuals so realistic.

When 8 AM rolled in, you didn’t wake Grace up even though it was Monday and you had work. You got up, changed into a long tee after a shower and called your office and then her daycare. You knew you would have a hard time going back to your normal life, to become trusting enough to leave her alone.

Your assumption about yourself was right. You took almost the entire week off, which your boss generously allowed you to after hearing your traumatic experience, which soon made the city news headlines. All your colleagues checked on you, almost once in the five day break you took, and sweetly enough offered to bring you anything you needed.

It was kind of them, but none of them could bring you what your heart genuinely craved: peace and assurance that you and Grace would be safe.

Even though Saturdays were off, you did go to work to see what you missed and where to start on again. You went in because you knew that the random spurt of resolution you got in the bathroom to collect your life, wouldn’t last.

To ease back into your normal life, you gathered your guts, called a babysitter and left home. You couldn’t bring yourself to leave Grace at the daycare just yet. One of your good friends offered to come in to the office and help you, even on the weekend and you were quite grateful to him.

When you both decided to take lunch in the nearby dining place, you both got to talking, the conversation obviously originating from ‘How have you been?’ and ‘Is Grace okay?’. You reminisced about how you used a photobooth to hide, grotesquely and uncomfortably chuckling when you remembered Sarah calling you her mom and how her dad saved you all.

You deliberately left the part where you killed someone and Steve shot someone too. You hadn’t come to terms with it yet and you stiffly restricted your mind whenever it tried to go down that lane.

He sensed how the conversation was becoming tense and distressing for you and briskly redirected the topic.

“I hope the dad was hot though?” He wiggled his eyes creepily and you snorted at his vulgarity, light for the first time in days.

“He was easy on the eyes; I will admit that.” You played along, recalling your girlfriends and how you used to ogle people.

“Don’t be a homewrecker though, I don’t support cheating.” He said nonchalantly, checking his phone as a notification bell rang off.

“He’s a widower.”

His eyes snapped up and met yours as his head tilted in confusion. “That’s a strange fact to know about someone you met for a few minutes.”

Steve’s even stranger comment about his dead wife popped in your mind and before you could stop yourself, you blurted that out as well.

“He even said and I quote, ‘She deserved what she got.’” He put his phone down, weirdly amused.

“Ooh Creepy! Do you think he is one of those husbands who kill their wives and bury them in the backyard? The podcasts always say that the psychopaths are visually handsome and charming. And his statement was quite vague and spooky.” He continued munching, and you felt that now Aiden was really paying attention unlike before.

“Steve did have a gun while searching for Sarah, come to think of it.” You drank your tea and awaited his response. What you did not expect was his eyes to widen and worry to cloud his features.

“Um Widower Steve with a toddler Sarah? At the place where The Vices attacked?” He mumbled, grabbing his phone and doing God knows what on it. Your eyebrows furrowed and before you could ask him what was up with his antics, he resumed.

“This is a long shot but I really hope your Steve didn’t look like this.” He positioned the phone in your vision, and you could already tell it was Steve by the sapphire blue of his eyes piercing through the screen into your soul. The picture was a month or two old, his hair was much longer when you met him than in the photo.

“This is him.” Your eyes met Aiden’s and worry visibly took over his features as his forehead creased and jaw tense.

He looked around the restaurant, finding it empty in the afternoon. He leaned and whispered, “This Steve of yours is dangerous.”

You interrupted Aiden, even though you already knew Steve was, the sight of his armed men still fresh in your head, and inquired, “Why do you say so?”

“It’s just like the fictional stories we hear from our parents, except here, in this city of ours, every myth holds true. There are really powerful men, untouchable by law, who reign the city silently and live luxuriously. Every shady, under the table deal you’ve heard of, transpires. Illegal trades, fraud schemes and bounty hunters are not fictional, they exist here. These men kill whatever hinders them and trust me, you don’t want to be the deer caught in their Jaguar’s headlights.”

Ice froze in your veins again, resembling the fear you felt that night but now because of your deemed ‘savior’. You convinced yourself that you had not wronged him in any way, instead had saved his daughter’s life.

“Are you in contact with him? If you are, distance yourself cleverly, don't block him immediately.”

“No, we just parted ways near my car, he thanked me for Sarah and was called away. It’s almost been a week and he hasn’t reached out if that’s what you mean. We didn’t exchange contacts and I don’t think I even told him my full name.” You explained yourself as if you were on the witness stand in court, trying to convince yourself more than Aiden.

“Pray that he doesn’t remember you more than that, if at all. I’m being totally honest here in telling you this, I’m genuinely worried for you and Grace. You are smart but he is powerful. He has unimaginable resources and if you become more than a speck of dust on his windshield, you are screwed. There is no exaggeration here.” You took his words to your heart and swore to be careful, if not for yourself then for Grace.

The rest of the day went by and you found yourself dwelling on and worrying about Aiden’s words. At least he put it out there as it was. Heeding his advice, you did google Steve on your phone, finally finding him in the topmost news headline when you added ‘Buck’ in the search bar as well.

‘With 38 lawsuits pending against businessman Steve Rogers, the filers have lost all hope in prosecuting him. All cases are being drawn out for indefinite periods of time by the Chief Justice Bruce……’

Aiden was right.

Businessmen was code for illegal mob heads. Cases being stretched on meant he was, in fact, invincible, at least to the common man’s fists.

You flickered through several titles, each one more surprising than the last. He was believed to be involved in the carnival attack, alleged for three hit and run cases that he didn’t lose but the witnesses swore they saw him driving and was also rumored to have brought in quintals of drugs just last week, but the packets just evaporated into thin air and there was no proof of their existence in the first place even on incessant searching.

Every crime of his made you shudder and you mentally thanked Aiden for pulling you out of your oblivion. Your mind raced and heart palpated and you cursed yourself for being so drastically unaware even after living here for almost four years. Technically speaking, Steve and you were even, him saving your life and you saving his daughter’s. No logical reason came to your mind for him contacting you ever.

You wished as Aiden said and assured yourself that your paths would never cross again, Steve not having reached out in a week, so hopefully never again.

That thought went out the window when you reached home to find a box awaiting you. Hannah, the babysitter you had called, informed you it came around 5 in the evening and was exclusively to be opened by you today.

Your mind raced as you paid the babysitter, your hands sweaty as you tried not to think about the gift and its sender. There was an apparently clear answer to who mailed it but you refused to accept that, courtesy of Aiden.

The box was of the height of Grace, it was black with red hearts painted across it; some red roses also sparingly adorned it. You opened the lid and found tons of red tissues and a multi-flower bouquet adorned with mostly red roses and a few purple and pink flowers.

Because of your frequent gardening in your backyard, you knew all the flowers’ meanings. To sum it all up, red flowers, especially roses were used for courting someone. Pink meant admiration, purple for beauty and you knew the ‘violet’ flowers were for loyalty.

As your nerves increased tenfold, you willed yourself to get it over with and empty out the box first, ignoring the little card in your bouquet, saving the ‘best’ for last. You find a mini bouquet inside but unlike yours, it had chocolates of every kind. You did read its card and cringed when it was for Grace, bothered not by the deed but by the doer.    

Further inside were some animal plushies, face masks, perfumes, scented body lotions and shampoos. Your head hurt thinking about the ‘single mother care package’ delivered to you by someone you refused to acknowledge.

As Grace sat in her playpen occupied, you dared to pick your card and read its message, your heart beating unrealistically fast for someone who refused to accept the cruciality of her situation.

~

I can’t thank you enough in this lifetime for saving my little princess. The gift of your help is more than anything money could ever buy for me. Please accept this invitation of mine for dinner tomorrow night, 7PM at La Bonne Nuit, as a symbol of my sincere gratitude for everything you’ve done. I’ll gets the kids covered and pick you up, you just be ready and look as amazing you always do.                                                                                           Sincerely,                                                                      Steve Rogers

                                                                                            ~

You stilled as you read it over and over again.

An invitation, your ass. Even in writing his authority portrayed, there was no question and hope for you coming, he just stated that you’d come. Looking pretty as always? You just met him once, in the middle of a calamity, covered in dirt and blood.

All the red roses and gifts screamed his romantic interest but you illusioned yourself into thinking they meant gratitude. You wouldn’t be able to digest it all otherwise.

Knowing what you knew now about Steve, you understood there was no denying the dinner tomorrow. You had to get out of his clutches and distance yourself, but as Aiden had so rightfully said, cleverly.

That night you laid in bed mulling over your next course of actions. You had called the gift shop to return the unwarranted presents you received but they said it was non refundable and anonymous to trace. You bitterly snorted in their face, they put a card with Steve’s name on it for heaven’s sake!

You didn’t flinch even when you realized you never gave Steve your address, neither for mailing stuff nor for picking you up. There was no number given to call him and thank or to call him and deny. The bastard had planned it all out, and you felt like you were driving in a one way lane, going deeper into the tunnel. Somewhere among your all-relentless fretting, you managed to finally sleep.

 When the doorbell rang, your eyebrows furrowed. It was just 6 PM and you weren’t expecting anybody else except for Steve. You had already begun getting ready, having developed a habit of keeping an extra margin of time now having a toddler. You still had to assemble Grace’s essential backpack, fill it with her meds and bottles.

While still putting on your diamond earring, you made your way to the door, unlocking it to find a redhead grinning at you. Before you could interact with her, a small body clung to your legs and you looked down to find the azure eyed kid that put you in this mess, Sarah, smiling up at you.

“Mama! You look pwetty!” She looked up in awe and now aware that she didn’t have a mother, you were even more so coerced into accepting this title rather than telling the kid that 'you are semi orphaned'.

“I’m Wanda, Sarah’s nanny. Mr. Rogers told me to pick her friend, Grace, up for the night?” So, this was what Steve meant. Bringing Sarah was proof enough of her legitimacy, but behind her you saw ‘Buck’ salute you from the driver’s seat of the black car. One of these days, you needed to learn his real name.

You invited Wanda inside and Sarah ran to Grace immediately, grabbing and whining while asking Grace to give her some popcorn she was munching on, her fist generously full.

In your open plan kitchen, you grabbed two plastic bowls, filled them with each with the tub of popcorn that sat in the microwave and handed each toddler one, fortunately quietening Sarah. Sarah obeyed Grace, in first thanking you, their ‘mama’ and then following her to her open playpen.

You faced Wanda again who sat on a barstool and kept on beaming. If your annoyance at her amusement showed, she sure didn’t let it falter the smile.

“Mr. Rogers told me you’d worry about your daughter, but I assure you she’d be in more than capable hands.” All you could focus on was how self-reassured she was. “I’ve served him for almost two years, the last family I served, I was there for 8 years and before them, I was employed for 3. I know the general bedtime and snacks, all I need from you is information about her allergies.”

You nodded and told her about Grace, her meds and what all you packed. When you got to know that her family owned the daycare Grace went to, you were finally somewhat convinced. After seeing them off, it was about fifteen minutes later, that the devil disguised in Prada showed up at your door.

You grabbed your purse and your keys. Wiping your sweaty palms on your dress, you opened the door. Steve stood there, a smirk lodging on his handsome face. His blue, three-piece suit perfectly paired with his cerulean eyes was impressive to say the least.

He was dressed to kill, and it appeared as if you were his first victim.

As your eyes took him in from top to bottom, his did the same lazily, taking their time, resting at certain places for longer period than others.

“You look stunning.”

You knew you did. You wore one of your more expensive dresses when you found out La Bonne Nuit to be one of the few seven-star hotels in the country. In hindsight, if you’d have dressed worse, maybe he’d have left you alone.

“Thank you.”

“Shall we?” He offered you his hand and you obliged with your palm in his. Your other hand pulled the doorknob while you stepped out, all alarms already set-in place. He waited while you locked and put the keys in and when you were done, with a soft kiss along your knuckles, he pulled you along.

The act surprised you, your stomach turning and your gut wrenching and you wondered if you’d be able to process the food after all, with your upset digestive system.

Like a proper gentleman, he opened the door for you and when you settled, he took his position at the driver’s seat. The silence was painful for you, your overthinking finally filling ideas in your head that you avoided contemplating about all day, focusing on Grace.

He was relaxed though; his humming was proof enough.

Mid way through, your thoughts were rudely interrupted when a hand housed itself on your knee. You glanced to find Steve’s palm slightly rubbing your knee. If it was meant to be assuring, you certainly didn’t feel like it.

You frowned and looked up to Steve who still had the arrogant smirk on his face, eyes straight ahead on the road, giving no indication of his inappropriate touching.

You wanted to swat his hand away but a brainwave dashed through your head and a disturbing thought made you halt, that whether he carried guns to restaurants as well, since carnivals were no big deal.

You ignored his hand and continued looking outside, pretending to ignore it as well as he did. Your scowl was a huge giveaway though.

You didn’t know that, but when your eyes found their way out, his finally rested on your face, the smirk growing even more.

Thankfully, apart from the incongruous touching, the dinner went okay-ish. The food and wine were impeccable, perfect even, the restaurant on the hotel’s top floors was so picturesque. You tried to savor your one-time experience there, knowing you’d no way be able to come back there.

Well, you tried to relish as much as you could while your mind still sat there, wary of the human in front of you. If you’d ignore your journey here, Steve was nothing short of a true gentleman, often making you wonder if you had imagined his hand on you.

This ‘friendly’ date you were having was probably one of the best you have had, he had left no expenses. He appeared to be interested in your work, about your childhood and about Grace’s but you swiftly avoided his questions about her father. He was growing a tad bit too comfortable for your liking and you still refused to entertain the idea that this was a ‘date’ date.

When you were finally onto dessert, the last course of your meal, your table was shadowed by the broad frame of a brunette and his date. He clapped Steve’s shoulder and Steve rose to hug him, you awkwardly smiled.

“It’s been far too long since you’ve been here, Cap. Why don’t you and your gorgeous date stop by my penthouse for a bit? We could finally go over the papers you sent me, in person?” He winked, they discussed something more and then went away, his date bowing and trailing after him as well.

Steve claimed his seat again, and finally told you about the interrupter. “That was my good friend, Tony Stark, always in a hurry. I’ll introduce you to him when we meet him later.”

“I think I’ll be heading home; you need not worry about my introduction, I hardly think we’ll ever run into each other again.” His eyes narrowed and you clarified, “Me and Mr. Stark, I meant.”

That’s good, don’t associate yourself with more of his kind.

“He was so kind in inviting you though, it would be rude to refuse.”

“It’s already late, Steve. And I’ve never left Grace alone for a night yet. What if she’s antsy? What if she is bothered? What if she feels unsafe? She's only used to very few people, and after last week, I-” You had started the sentence hoping to use Grace as an excuse but every word of yours succeeded in making you more apprehensive.

The carnival night flashed in your mind, along with the nightmares and you started panicking even more. Your hands clammy, your dessert spoon fell in your lap as sought your phone in your purse, hoping to call Wanda for an update. You felt like a terrible mother, who left her child with a stranger, only a week after she suffered trauma, just to go on a date with a mobster.

Steve reached across the table and grabbed your fidgety hands and as you wriggled to get your hands free, he softly called your name. Voice stern but vocals gentle. Your blurry eyes snapped to meet his while he guided you to breathe deeply, in and out.

His firm hold convinced you to listen to him, you’d never free yourself of them otherwise.

When you had calmed a bit, he withdrew his hands and fetched his phone. Your thoughts slowed down, and you wondered if anyone here was judging you. Your little scene, mercifully, went unnoticed by the other affluent people dining here.

Steve handed you his phone where four colored frames rested, the screen showing you Grace and Sarah cuddled in a frilly, pink four poster where Wanda sat too, her lips moving.

The feed was live and the screen muted, both the toddlers’ eyes fluttering close slowly, on the bridge of sleep.

You handed the phone back to Steve and drank your water while he rubbed circles on the back of one of your hands. You never freaked out like you did right now, always collected and never giving into anxiety. What had happened to you?

Well, In your defense, you had never experienced a disaster either.

“The kids are safe; I’m never putting either of them in harm’s way ever again.”

Your mind did catch the plural in his statement but you promised yourself you would not let it get that far and continued drinking your water, emptying the entire glass.

“The HD image you just saw was by cameras Tony recently developed. His technology is amazing, I’ll take you to his lab sometime.” You appreciated his attempt to redirect the topic but you also focused on how tech-savvy his friends were as well.

You hummed and agreed, trying to be ambiguous with your answer.

When you finished your dessert, you hoped he’d forget about his ‘friend’ Tony but to no avail.

“His penthouse is two floors above. He owns this hotel as well in case you didn’t notice.” He led you to the elevator as you recalled the Starks Group logo you saw earlier sometime.

Some AI named Jarvis opened the elevator doors for you in the living room of Tony’s penthouse. It was even more magnificent than the restaurant earlier, the place illuminated by several hues of different colours. Steve chuckled and strung you along, introducing you to a ginger-head named Pepper, who was Tony’s date earlier and went to search for his acquaintance.

She offered you wine but you politely declined, opting for water instead. She brought your glass to you from the extravagant kitchen and you both sat on the barstool there instead of the living room. Too anxious to say the wrong thing, you stayed quiet until her voice filled the deafening silence.

“So, Steve almost never brings dates around. You two serious?” She questioned, leaning towards you, waiting for some gossip, no doubt.

“Oh no! We aren’t dating. He just invited me for a friendly dinner. We merely met the other week.” You deliberately left out the part where there was bombing by crime families and attack on the common man.

“Honey, in the mob life, you don’t just introduce random people to the fam.”

Oh, she wasn’t being shy about the whole mob ordeal. It seemed weird to hear it from her, since you and Steve hadn’t used the word yet. Maybe he figured you already knew considering the circumstances you met in or how famous he was.

“We really aren’t romantically involved. This dinner was just a gesture of gratitude if I’m being truthful.”

She chuckled, as if you were a kid making stories and quizzed, “Gratitude for what?”

You trapped yourself into that one. You didn’t know how to answer her and your brain downright blanked. Surprisingly,, Steve came to your rescue and two voices interposed your conversation.

Steve called your name and as you turned to the men, he continued, “She’s the one who saved Sarah the other night. You know the story, Wilson probably got it printed.”

“Impressive, really. Hey, I’m Tony and I see you’ve already met Pepper, my fiancée.” He shook your hand and kissed your knuckles, much like Steve did earlier in the day. You bowed, smiled and mumbled a ‘nice to meet you as well’. They escorted you to the elevator and Tony continued.

“Well, it’s not everyday Steve brings brave and extraordinarily attractive women around. Welcome to the family, sweetie. She’s a keeper, Cap.” He winked while saying the last sentence and before you could correct him, Steve ushered you inside the elevator, bro-hugging him. As the doors closed, Pepper winked at you from behind Tony and a shudder ran through you.

Okay you had to make it clear, get on the same page.

As the elevator music filled the silence, you started, “Steve, look we aren’t-”, “I served in the army, that’s why Tony calls me Cap, short for captain.” And crudely got interrupted.

“I never wanted to get into the army, I thought people were fools to sacrifice the one life they got. But I went to make my mother’s dream a reality, I really loved her, you know? Sarah is named after her, my mother.”

His voice broke at the end and as much as you wanted to redirect onto your former topic, you couldn’t. This amiability of yours would be the death of you.

“She died alone in her bed; I was dispatched too far away to even make it back for her funeral.” He mumbled but you heard him clear as a sunny day, and he leaned back onto the wall for support while you awkwardly rubbed his shoulder to return the support he provided earlier during your mental breakdown.

He closed his eyes and gathered himself, taking deep breaths. As the elevator dinged, his eyes opened and he gave you a strained smile.  

The car ride to his mansion was painfully silent, his mind too sidetracked to focus on harassing you again. With all that you went through today, you almost forgot about that.

His mansion was enormous, twenty guards stood outside and even more patrolled the lawn. He took you inside his house, the interior even more detailed and scenic than Tony’s temporary residence.

You just concentrated on swiftly getting Grace and Uber-ing back. As Steve showed you earlier, Grace and Sarah hugged and slept and it was a meticulous task to untangle their limbs without waking either of them up andnd get Grace with her back-pack. You thanked Wanda on the way out, hoping to avoid Steve but somehow he stood outside before you, leaning on his sleek black car. He opened the door for you before you could refuse the ride. You settled with Grace in the backseat itself, trying to be smart.

He just summoned one of his guards to drive and sat alongside you in the back. You didn’t let the annoyance at his clinginess show though. You just focused on Grace who drooled over your shoulder.

Hopefully, there won’t be any point of exposure to him ever again, your circles didn’t match, both social and professional. Your Venn diagrams didn’t overlap anywhere. This should be reason enough to avoid meeting ever again.

He didn’t try anything even this ride around. You doubted it was hardly because of the toddler or because of the driver. He did as he pleased, if he wanted to he could very well grope you. Luckily, he wasn't in the mood.

When you reached your dwelling, you stepped out hastily, thanking him in a whisper. You fumbled to get your keys out, but since everything you held slowed you down, he caught up with you without even trying.

He took and held Grace’s bag while you drew the keys out, Grace still on your hip. He handed you the bag back, “So this is it, I guess?”

“Yeah, tonight was a total delight. Thanks for the dinner and everything, really.” You put up your best façade, hoping to convince him.

“It was, thanks to you. The company matters the most.”

You awkwardly chuckled and you sensed him leaning in, his eyes flickering shut. Your eyes closed as you turned your head to avoid him, so that his lips would peck your cheek.

They never came.

Your eyes opened to find his and he chuckled, leaning in once again swiftly, catching you off guard this time. He didn’t meet your lips though, he kissed the corner of your mouth, lips overlapping for a fraction of skin.

“In due time, baby.” He stepped back and strolled to his car leisurely, content in his own world.

You opened your door and slammed it shut, the peck feeling wrong on so many levels. It felt more sensual than a lover’s kiss, leaving room for intimacy and longing.

Your thoughts ran a hundred kilometers an hour, the most absurd but nauseatingly true being, this was a date and it was not your last encounter.

Steve smirked outside in his car, the dinner an absolute success in his opinion. Tonight just made him feel that you both were more than compatible for each other. You needing him during your mental breakdown, him relaxing under your shy touch, Tony’s approval, not that important though, and your anxiety for Grace was the best part, because he, more often than he’d like to admit, fussed about Sarah the same way, agonizing and fretting her well being.

A text lit up his black screen and his grin widened even more if possible.

‘The Stark cameras are up and working, Sir.’

[anasticklefics]

Unsaid

Fandom: Star Wars

Characters: Poe/Finn

Summary: They land on a planet that has a field that tickles anyone who comes near, and Poe is having one too many feelings about it.

A/N: My first fic back from hiatus! Honestly I’m only posting something because I wrote more than half of this while I was gone, but felt inspired to finish it today. I hope you like it, I’m very proud 🥺

Words: 2k

A breeze of heat ruffled Poe’s hair as he stood at the edge of the Field of Laughter on a planet that had too much of an orange tint for his liking. It reminded him of dry, unforgiving land full of sand and nothing but sand, but mostly it reminded him of the times he’d been stranded, so thirsty he could die, running for his life over the scorching ground. Just last week, that is. It reminded him of being near death, and of watching Finn and Rey getting dragged just out of his reach.

“It’s okay, you know,” Finn told him now, watching Poe as Poe watched the field. “If you want to try it, I mean.”

Poe chanced a glance at him, wondering what the orange tint made his blush look like. “I’m good.”

“Poe.” Finn had mastered the knowing smile he occasionally shot his way wonderfully. An amusement to it, but also something kind that made Poe all the more embarrassed whenever it was aimed at him. Vulnerability, even during the war, was always something that terrified him, even more than the war.

“Really, I’m okay,” he said, averting his gaze back toward the dancing blades of yellow grass. They’d been told the field was bigger than it seemed, twisting and turning behind the mountains and the trees Poe had been surprised to find here. They all looked dead, but were apparently perfectly fine.

“If you’re worried someone will see or hear you we could go further.”

“Why do you think I want to try it?”

“Oh, come on now.” Finn bumped their shoulders together. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

The Field of Laughter was said to be a very ticklish experience; so much so that the natives who lived by it had developed a thicker skin, quite literally so, in order to survive having to cross it. It had saved them valuable time, not having to walk around it, and it only got a couple of giggles out of the younger ones now.

Poe was absolutely certain he would never escape the dancing blades, whose only purpose in life was to tickle whomever walked over and through them. They were kept regularly short, cut with hovering blades and quick hands, as they could probably tickle someone to death if they were able to trap them. A field of torture for most, but something else to Poe.

“I promise to pull you out if it becomes too much,” Finn continued, but Poe could tell he wasn’t going to push it more. It was up to Poe to decide whether he was brave enough to be vulnerable in more than one way.

They’d landed there by accident. A mission gone wrong, but not so wrong it had really cost them anything. Just time, which they sometimes couldn’t afford and other times were swimming in. They’d been fortunate, for once, to be rich enough to give it away so easily to a planet that neither attacked them nor wanted to help them. Proud of their history, but wary of their grounds, meaning they told them everything but let them see little. Poe knew of the group that had settled not too far away from their makeshift camp, keeping an eye on them and making sure they didn’t stray past the point they’d been allowed to see. Poe wasn’t sure why they’d been forced to stay by the Field of Laughter of all places, but he’d been thoroughly on edge for the past two days because of it.

“Better be careful,” Jess had said, pointing to the field. “If you piss me off I might throw you in.”

Poe hadn’t replied, his ears still ringing with the story of the field they’d just been told. Lab-made. Torture device. Impossible to stop. It had made him want to peel his skin off to hear it.

“Poe.” Finn, his one and only confidant in this, hadn’t teased him like Poe had feared, but that knowing look had almost been worse. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

One thing you should know about Poe Dameron: he had absolutely no idea how to handle any type of feeling that involved vulnerability, which included embarrassment and fear and love and lust. Unfortunately his feelings about tickling had traces of all, to a certain point. It was embarrassing to love something most people hated. It was terrifying to love something to the point of sensuality.

Finn had found out by accident, too. A drunken night, Poe too touch-starved and exhausted and in love with him to keep quiet, and while whatever they were was still unsaid and only shown in quiet fingertips to skin, Finn was all too eager to give him what he wanted after he’d let it slip. Poe refused to talk about it now, all of it unsaid and quiet, all theirs but barely.

Finn hadn’t mentioned the field as they’d started their walk, but Poe couldn’t look at him as they’d walked along the edge of it, maybe too close to it for comfort. One misstep and he could fall in, and then he’d have to face one too many truths at once.

Truth was, he almost wished someone would push him in. Just as an excuse.

“It almost doesn’t look like the blades are dancing,” was the first thing he’d said. “There’s no rhythm to it.”

“I’m sure they’re trying their best,” Finn had replied and Poe had laughed, nearly hysterically, as if giddy at the idea of having them dance over his skin.

“How does it even work?” he said now, two days later, the evening sun still bright and orange, but fading ever so slightly by the minute. “Like, do they go for your feet first or trip you or what?” He was only able to ask because it sounded so stupid to ask it.

“No idea.” Finn tilted his head at the field. “Does it work if you’re dressed and wearing shoes?”

“No idea.”

“Maybe we should ask someone. I’m sure they’d be willing to share.”

“We’d look too invested.”

Finn grabbed his wrist, squeezing once and calming him instantly. “We don’t have to.”

Poe went to bed untickled, tangled up in Finn’s embrace.

*

He only went because he’d dreamt of it and had learned to take dreams seriously years ago. In his dream it had been intoxicating, the sensation unbearable enough to have felt real, and so he went, wondering if he would leave or die there, laughing until it hurt him. That was the most fascinating part. Where did the line go between pleasure and pain when it came to something like this? How much could he take? Were Finn’s occasional prodding hands enough or was he capable of handling more?

In retrospect there was probably a safer way to figure this out, but Poe stopped by the edge of the field, feet bare and pants rolled up to his calves, with a relief he rarely ever felt regarding this. The early morning sun was more of a soft canary yellow than orange, and Poe felt he could breathe more easily.

“Hello,” he said, his voice a murmur as he bent to get closer to the grass. “Aren’t you causing a lot of commotion.”

He didn’t feel stupid to speak to it. Somehow he felt it was alive, just communicating differently than him. He’d walked as far as he’d been able to, but felt as if his laughter would still be heard if it caught him. Many years ago, when he’d had too much pride to admit to vulnerability, he’d been captured by a rope and remained hanging upside down for longer than was comfortable, squirming, struggling, but refusing to scream for help. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep quiet during this.

The blades did nothing to acknowledge his presence and Poe longed for a thick forest - preferably a dark green one - to hide him from view when he reached out a finger to hover above it. An idiot, they would call him if they saw him. An idiot that’s asking for it.

If only they knew how desperately he was really asking. How loud and persistent and starved his pleas were, in the midst of a war that gave him no privacy to be candid.

“Would you let go of me if I asked nicely?” The blades were just out of reach. He could imagine them suddenly reaching forward and gripping him by the wrist, pulling him in and under for the rest of his giggly eternity.

But of course, they merely kept dancing. He wiggled his index finger over them. “Are you ticklish yourselves?”

The silence around him was deafening. If he fell he would be heard by the whole universe.

If he didn’t fall he could pretend he had. Say he’d been sleepwalking, hence his lack of proper footwear, and had ended up in this ticklish awakening.

Finn would know, naturally, but Finn would never tell. Would only try to gently coax the answers out of him and Poe would blush and blush and blush until he would say something stupid that would have Finn either laughing or rolling his eyes. Finn would drop it only momentarily, for it was too big of a thing to do on your own for him to never bring up again.

Poe wasn’t surprised when Finn appeared a moment later, his steps quiet but not non-existent. “Hi.”

Poe sighed and straightened, turned to glance at him quickly to hide the already spreading flush. “Hi.”

“I knew I’d find you here.”

“Dead or alive?”

“Hmm, either. Happy it was the latter.” He stopped beside him, letting their shoulders brush as they gazed over the field. “Are you gonna do it?”

“Not sure. Honestly I might’ve stood here for hours if you hadn’t arrived.”

“I can hold your hand. Pull you back out.”

Poe looked at him. Finn, with his own worries and dark circles under his eyes from how little he actually slept and his ever present way of reaching out without expecting anything back. If he trusted anyone with this it was him.

“Okay.”

Finn met his gaze. “Okay?”

Poe held out his hand. “Okay.”

Finn took it.

*

In retrospect it was both an overwhelming and underwhelming experience. The idea of it, the actual act of stepping his bare foot onto the field, still made his heart race. But while it did tickle it wasn’t the hysteria he’d been imagining. To be fair, he only let it go as far as to his calf before he decided he’d had enough, but for someone as sensitive as him it should’ve been worse.

It did tickle, though. It tickled a lot.

“I think you’re just too used to the sensation,” Finn told him after they’d returned to their quarters.

Poe huffed in embarrassment. “Not like that.”

“Oh, come on. I’ve pinned you plenty of times.”

“Not like that,” Poe said, quieter.

“That sounds like a challenge.”

As he’d stepped onto the field, Finn’s hand tight over his, Poe had felt fear and excitement and shame and acceptance, all at once, as the blades started dancing over his skin. When he’d realized, after the blades had started tickling between his toes, that he wasn’t able to actually remove his foot from the grass, was when he’d started laughing and couldn’t stop.

“I’ve never heard you laugh like that, though,” Finn said now. “I’m actually offended. I’m definitely taking this as a challenge.”

“How did I laugh?” Poe asked, because yes okay sometimes embarrassment made him stupid.

“Desperately. More high pitched than usual.” Finn’s smirk was intoxicating and fucking terrifying. “Want to try to recreate it?”

“People will hear us,” Poe said, already laughing stupidly, nervously, too smitten for his own good.

“I have a perfectly good palm to muffle it.”

And so the rest of Poe got tickled, too.

[froggie-recs-fics]

Fic Roundup (up to 9/26/21)

I'm gonna start collecting fics I've read recently to recommend them, because making trope lists takes too long and many fics fall by the wayside. Let me know if you like this new format!

The fandoms in this list are as follows: Marvel (SamBucky, HTP, SpideyPool, WinterHawk, WinterIron, Stony, Stucky, SpiderShield), DCU (Bane/Blake), Inception (Arthur/Eames), Teen Wolf (Sterek).

A * signifies a particular favorite (though I love all these fics)

Marvel

Sam/Bucky

double back by flowermasters (E, 12K, Post-Endgame, Time Loop, Time Travel)

Sam gets stuck in a time loop. In 1943.

Things could be worse, but they could certainly be better.

Companion piece here: quick time

I'll explain everything to the geese by napricot (Post-Endgame, E, 50K, Sam can talk to birds)

Bucky is so competent that it hurts my feelings is not a rational complaint to have about a person, and yet, after a year of being Captain America and partnering up with Bucky for the new and improved, post-Blip Avengers, that’s kinda how Sam’s feeling.

It’s not great. It maybe leads to Sam making some rash, ill-advised decisions like claiming he has a previously undisclosed superpower, and then getting caught in a web of lies when he ends up actually developing that surprisingly inconvenient superpower. Talking to birds had seemed like a harmless superpower, but it turns out that birds have a lot of opinions, and they don’t hesitate to tell Sam about them, especially when it comes to his supposedly subpar courting skills. Which is ridiculous, because Sam isn’t courting Bucky. Right?

Rumlow/Bucky

**blueprints for a better world series by itallstartedwithdefenestration @astralhux (CATWS, Post-CATWS, Noncon, E, 115K, Dark Main Character)

When Pierce discovers the asset is no longer capable of getting himself hard during recreational use, he tells Rumlow to figure out what the problem is, and to fix it. The solution turns out to be more complicated than anyone expected.

I can't recommend this series enough

Peter/Wade

*Dead Men Walking series by doctorestranged @lazystrawberrymilkshakes (E, 235K, Identity Porn, Slow Burn)

When a series of murders take place, Peter Parker goes undercover in Sister Margaret’s to get intel on Tony Stark’s prime suspect: Deadpool. Peter goes in hoping to get enough information so that Spider-Man can save the day, but like everything in Peter’s life, it becomes a bit more complicated than that and it soon becomes apparent that he might not be the best fit for the job.

All About Chemistry by TwiceBakedPotato @sedatedkoala (No Powers AU, M, CNTW, 74K, Teacher-Student Relationship, Slow Build)

After serving his 20 years in the Marine Corps, Wade Wilson is cashing in his GI Bill and going back to college. He feels like the old man on campus, but that doesn't matter. He likes his classes. He likes learning. And he especially likes his Chemistry professor with the messy brown hair.

Clint/Bucky

Making Me A Habit by Kangofu_CB @kangofu-cb (No Powers AU, T, 20K, Pet Store, Slow Burn, Pining, Misunderstandings)

Bucky is a disabled vet struggling with reintegrating into civilian life. He has a routine and a rhythm, and he doesn't like to let anything - big or small - disrupt it. That all changes the day Bucky finds himself inside CATastrophe, the local pet rescue, recovering from a panic attack in the back room of the shop.

He’s used to walking by the place, not visiting, but the next thing Bucky knows, he’s hanging signs and being used as a climbing tree for a bunch of freshly-acquired kittens. And he just...keeps going back. First for the kittens, then for the disaster shop owner who rescues actual kittens from actual trees and teaches archery as a side-gig, and eventually because he’s hopelessly in love.

(Clint was in love before Bucky ever walked in the door.)

*Nameless by AvaKelly (Post-CATWS, M, 101K, Time Travel, Time Loop, Slow Burn)

A gun is pointed at him before he can even move from his position, the Soldier's metal arm steady in its aim. Clint sighs.

"Nemo," Clint says. "It's tattooed on your wrist, right here," he lifts his right hand and taps his left index finger where his palm ends.

The Soldier's eyes widen. "How do you know this?"

"I put it there."

Glitter, G-Strings and Other Mission Hazards by flawedamythyst @flawedamythyst (T, 16K, Undercover, Stripper Clint)

“Which is why you need me to shake my booty for cash,” said Clint.

“Precisely,” said Coulson. “You’re the only agent we have who wouldn’t need additional training in the skills of an exotic dancer to take on the mission, and we want to get someone in there as soon as possible.”

Clint nodded, shutting the file. “Okay, awesome. I’ll dig out my sequined g-string.”

“You’ll have full access to requisition any costumes you might need,” said Coulson.

A mission requires Bucky to be Clint's back-up as he goes undercover as a stripper, which gets more difficult with every new costume he comes out in.

Paternal Error by EVVS @skylarkevanson (Post-CATWS, T, 33K, Kid Fic, Established Relationship)

Bucky has never once thought of being a parent. Not since the Winter Solider happened.

Until he falls in love with Clint Barton. And that idiot just keeps collecting children for his flock.

Now Bucky has to pretend like he's good at parenting.

Bucky/Tony

Forms of Love by bear_bell (Post-CACW, E, 33K, Split Personalities)

Months after the Avengers' dispute in Germany, the team returns to the US and moves back into the tower. As always, everyone pretends that nothing happened. Tony is just fine with this. He's used to pretending, and he'll be damned if he lets any of them see him flinch.

Tony's the bad guy, after all. He's used to it. He's fine with it. He's good at it.

Only now, there's something far worse loitering around the tower - The Winter Soldier. No one notices the guy at first, but when they do, Tony figures that he should have the soldier's back.

Birds of a feather should flock together, and the bad guys should start a book club.

Steve/Tony

While You Were Sleeping by betheflame @betheflame (No Powers AU, M, 65K, While You Were Sleeping AU)

It's been years since Steve Grant Rogers Drysdale has spoken to his twin, Ransom. So it was quite a shock when he was summoned to a hospital and found out that Ransom was in a coma.

Even more shocking? That Ransom is engaged. To Tony Stark.

Steve/Bucky

The Road Goes Ever On And On by PipGraham (Omegaverse AU, M, Noncon, Graphic Violence, 20K, Road Trip, Pre-Serum Steve, Past Domestic Violence)

When Brock's continued domestic abuse puts not only Steve's life in danger, but also that of his unborn pup, he flees into the night with just a small backpack of clothes and almost no money to his name.

Steve quickly runs into trouble as he tries to embark on a 3-day cross-country bus journey back home to New York City.

He meets a kind veteran when he most needs a helping hand.

Just Words by LadyRazzle (crimegimp) @ladyrazzle (Pre-CATFA, Soulmate AU, T, 2K, Fluff)

Inspired by that now legendary post: "soulmate AU where you wake up on your 18th birthday with the first words your soulmate will say to you tattooed on your body so you’ll know them when you meet them." Well what if they appear the moment you turn 18, rather than just the day? And what if by the time you turn 18, you'd already fallen in love?

Bucky wasn’t eager to discover what the words said. He already knew what he wanted them to say. He always had.

Peter/Steve

Forgetting It's There by spinstitcher (stygian) (NR, 8K, Crack, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Identity Porn)

“You’re Captain America,” he blurts out.

“What?” says Captain America, looking a little wide-eyed. He casts a nervous glance at the girl at the counter – he has nothing to worry about there, she’s rocking out to her iPod and could care less what they’re talking about – and says, “No, uh, Steve, it’s just, I’m Steve.”

“Right,” says Peter, and then because his brain-to-mouth filter had apparently been completely destroyed in the fight on Oscorp Tower: “Hey, your butt really is as tight as it looks on TV.”

DCU

Bane/Blake

7 Deadly Ass(as)sins by teacuphuman @teacuphuman09 (AU, E, 23K, BDSM)

Bane and Barsad own a sex shop and John needs a job.

Straws by Menirva (Bane/Blake/Barsad, AU, E, 38K, BDSM)

John works in a smoothie shop.

He has a knack, a second sense if you will, for being able to look at a person and know what they're going to order. It's not the most spectacular gift in the world but he likes being able to figure people out and he's never wrong.

Except for this scruffy asshole who is clearly just ordering the wrong thing to fuck with him.

How is he even finishing an extra-large?

Inception

Aurthur/Eames

Rough Trade by Whisky (whiskyrunner) @whiskyrunner (AU, E, 23K, Internalized Homophobia)

Arthur is an investment banker. He is professional and efficient. He's a halfway decent cook. He's totally independent and has been since the age of eighteen. Maybe he's tired all the time because he works about ninety hours a week which is twice what normal people do, but he's rich and he's competent at his job. He's almost thirty, and already a success.

And there are some things Arthur is not. For instance: Arthur is not gay.

Lucky by earlgreytea68 @earlgreytea68 (M, 37K, Kid fic)

Arthur finds a baby.

Teen Wolf

Stiles/Derek

Cut to the Bone by standinginanicedress (Omegaverse AU, E, 112K, Secret Relationship, Enemies to Lovers kinda)

“Not that it’s any of your god damn business, but my name is Stiles. Do you need something?”

The alpha grins. All teeth, shiny white, straight as an arrow. He’s got this sculpted perfection to him that Stiles is sure has worked on all the omegas he’s ever encountered before, but Stiles stands his ground and narrows his eyes. “A date.”

Stiles looks him up and down, slowly, from the black shoes on his feet, to his uniform khakis and blazer littered with pins, to his face. He frowns, makes a face, and says, “pass.”

Cornerstone by Vendelin (Human AU, E, 83K, Marine Derek, Blind Stiles, Friends to Lovers)

Suffering from PTSD, ex-Marine Derek Hale moves back to Beacon Hills to open a bookshop and find a calmer life. That’s where he meets Stiles, completely by accident. Stiles is talkative, charming and curious. Somehow, despite the fact that he’s blind, he’s able to read Derek like no one else.

Stand Fast in Your Enchantments by DevilDoll, Rahciach (AU, Graphic Violence, E, 76K, Captivity, Feral Derek)

"Stiles knew damn well what a pissed-off wolf sounded like, and every hair on the back of his neck was telling him that somewhere in this room was a very pissed-off werewolf." An AU in which Derek is feral, Stiles is magical, and they eat a lot of fast food.

The Payoff Pitch by Leslie_Knope (Sports AU, E, 83K, Coming Out, Friends to Lovers)

Derek is on the cusp of his second season with the LA Dodgers, and as the reigning runner-up Rookie of the Year, the pressure’s on him to become the team’s star pitcher and lead them to the playoffs for the first time in five years. He’s trying to deal with the burden of expectations and really has zero desire to spend any extra time or energy on anything that isn’t baseball.

But then he meets Stiles.

[duskamethyst]

possessive.

a/n: i feel like there aren’t a lot of yandere bokuto so i decided to write it myself

word count: 2k

genre: smut, nsfw

warnings: noncon, yandere behavior, overstimulation

pairing: yan!bokuto x f!reader

summary: bokuto isn’t a fan of being the second place in receiving attention, particularly yours. bokuto hates it when you (unintentionally) ignore him, keep him out of the conversation (that doesn’t concern him in the first place) when you talk to his teammates and those seem to be the main problem of the unwanted situation you’re facing going to face. to conclude, even outside the court, bokuto craves for attention.

konoha is your assigned partner for the class assignment but it takes so much more of your time than the other’s since he’s more devoted on his volleyball practices after school than the whole thing. thus, the only time you can manage to talk to him further besides during lunch and class is during his practice.

“okay, so i’ve already finished most of my part so for your part, you’ll need to--” you begin, but only to be cut off by a shout of your name.

“hey, you didn’t even say hi to me?” bokuto runs up to where you and konoha are standing with a frown on his face.

“oh, hi, bokuto.” you smile before turning to the other male beside you. “anyway--”

“what are you guys doing?” he shifts closer, peeking the notebook you’ve been holding to show konoha your progress.

“i’ve told you before, bokuto. we’re partners for our class project!” konoha beams, patting your shoulder and pulls you closer to him in a friendly manner. “you work so fast, i feel bad though.”

bokuto glances at the hand resting on your shoulder but quickly averts his gaze to his friend, “then you better pick up the pace too, huh? so you won’t give her a hard time.”

“yeah,” konoha smiles apologetically. “hey, how about we go to the library tomorrow so we can finish the whole stuff?” you nod and smile at him, the thought that he is not entirely hopeless sends a wave of relief in you.

“can i come?!” bokuto chimes in with puppy eyes. both of you blink at him in confusion.

“nope! it’ll only be the two of us!” konoha laughs, “come on, break time’s over.” he walks away to the center of the court, pushing the sad bokuto along with him.

checking in your bag half-way home, you suddenly realize that you have left some of the materials you need to go through for the assignment tomorrow with konoha. it will be such a drag if you have to stop by school first tomorrow so you lazily walk back to your class and go through under your desk. the door of the class slides open and you turn around to see no other than bokuto.

“oh, hey.” you smile, walking towards the door. “i’m just about to head out. finished practice?”

“oh, yeah-- kinda.” he replies shortly.

“kinda?”

“i told them i wasn’t feeling really well.” he says, sliding back the door close behind him. the thought of bokuto-- this bokuto, is ill is rather absurd to you. you’ve watched him play, and there was not even a single time that this man had gotten any injuries. not even a broken finger from blocking a hard spike from the opponent. he had never even missed a match from being sick. the only time that he seemed “sick” was when he was in those mood swings and he would usually get back up on his feet. nonetheless, he is still human after all.

“you seemed fine earlier.” you exclaim, trying to get to the door but he shifts his body in front of you, blocking the door instead. when you move the left, he moves to the right, vice versa. you look up at him questioningly but you can’t really conclude the expression written on his face and it’s very unusual.

“maybe if you weren’t ogling konoha, you would’ve noticed.” he mutters lowly under his breath but loud enough for you to hear.

“what?” you shake your head. “first of all, i wasn’t. and secondly, if you haven’t noticed, you’re blocking my way.” you reply matter-of-factly, stepping to the side again before he grabs your shoulders and turns you around to pin you against the door. you look at him in horror, realizing that his build is solid and muscular up close and if he wants to hit you, you would definitely get knocked out.

“i really got sick after seeing you and konoha, you know that?” he has the same look on his face and a sly grin comes up across his face afterwards. “of course you don’t. but since we’re alone now.. i can finally have you all to myself.”

he smashes his lips onto yours, the kiss is hasty and rough, his hands begin to wander all over your body before one of them makes its way under your skirt to grab your ass. your trembling hands try to push him away but he doesn’t falter. instead, his grip goes harder.

“don’t even try to resist me.” he warns as his sharp teeth starts to nip on the delicate skin of your neck, leaving harsh purple marks.

“s-stop.” you beg when the hand on your ass moves to rub circles on your clit. it hurts, it’s uncomfortable but as every second passes, even you can feel that you begin to pool under his touch-- let alone the jerk who’s grinning from the results of his work.

“wow, you’re so fucking wet,” he chuckles, rubbing the wetness between his fingers as if feeling it through your panties isn’t enough to convince him. “but i can’t help but to wonder how you taste.”

he easily lifts you up and lays you down on the teacher’s desk before pulling down your panties and puts it inside his pocket. bokuto leans down and pushes your legs up before spreading your slits open with his fingers and sticks his tongue out to lick your clit.

you feel embarrassed when his golden eyes meet yours, watching you as you squirm while his tongue laps up the juices from your sloppy cunt. you recognize the proud look on his face, you’ve seen it when he successfully delivered a cross-court shot over the net during the tournament but never in a million years you’d expect to see the same grin between your thighs.

“you wanna cum don’t you?” he coos as he slides in his finger inside you.

“no..” you whimper, trying to close your legs but his strong hand pushes them further apart.

“well, i’m gonna make you.”

bokuto slides in another finger and starts fingering you continuously, persistent to make sure you’ll cum for him. he curls his fingers and you begin to find a wave of pleasure slowly building up inside you and you hate yourself for it.

“oh? you look like you wanna cum.” he chuckles as he watches your body writhing on the desk. the room is filled with heavy pants and sloshing sounds from your pussy. you start to feel that you’re pushed to edge as bokuto presses down and rubs your clit with his thumb.

“i’m-i’m gonna cum..” you say between breaths.

“it’s okay, baby. cum for me.” he whispers encouragingly as he watches you throw your head back, soft moans slipping out from your pretty lips. bokuto continues with his pace before your body shakes from releasing an orgasm.

“such a good girl.. you wanna make me happy right?” bokuto leans down to kiss all over your face but your mind is too numb to even respond. “say you want me to fuck you.”

you shake your head slowly, you wish for nothing but to end this torture-- but you should’ve known better. bokuto shifts back between your legs and starts to lick your throbbing cunt again. he watches you as your body starts to writhe again, though his gaze is rather intimidating, much different from earlier.

“please, stop.” you plea but fall into deaf ears instead.

“say it.”

seeing how you refuse to “please” him, he continues to lick you while fingering you, overstimulating you while taunting you all at the same time to push you further to edge.

“f-fuck me, bo--” the words are like music to his ears. bokuto quickly stands up and takes out his cock and almost immediately slides into you. a moan of pleasure escapes from his mouth as he starts to thrust his hips and pushes his all of his thick cock inside you.

“you feel so good, baby.” he compliments-- almost too genuinely. he gazes adoringly at how his glistening cock easily slips in and out of your wet hole despite how you denied him earlier and you can feel how he grows impossibly bigger inside you.

you turn your head to the side, not wanting to make unnecessary eye contact with the man violating you, the one making you feel as if you’re nothing more than just a sex doll.

“i’m good aren’t i?” he asks. if it isn’t for the fact that he’s assaulting you, you’d say that the question sounds very innocent.

you refuse to answer as you persistently stare at the wall. your blood boils at how this man has the audacity to shamelessly ask you such a thing. you know how he’s like, you’ve heard it from konoha himself. he tells you how the whole team carries the responsibility to cheer him on while playing in court to ensure that he gets riled up and how he lives off from being praised by them. you thought that it’s ridiculous but who would’ve thought that you’re also experiencing it first hand, only with his cock plowing inside your guts.

the lack of response irritates him. he needs to hear you say that he’s doing a good job, he put so much effort in this. this is what he had always wanted. he would’ve played it nice but seeing how you were all over his friend earlier, how you subconsciously ignored him, made him do this. it’s your fault. you can’t be mad at him. he’s finally alone with you so why can’t you stop staring at the wall and pay more attention to him? you’re making him upset.

bokuto mercilessly picks up his pace and gets rougher, making sure that you know that he is in balls deep. you finally turn to face him, his brows are knitted together, his expression is no longer compassionate as he focuses on making you cum together with him. bokuto knows that he’s giving a brilliant performance when he starts hearing you moan but now he just needs some compliment.

“i never knew you’re this stubborn.”

you bite down on your lips hard and close your eyes as you feel the coil inside you begin to swirl around, threaten to snap but bokuto is quick to pull away and circles your sensitive clit with his thumb. you open your eyes to see him staring back at you as he waits for you to beg for him.

“bokuto, please..” your voice croaked. he slides in his cock again and gives one deep thrust.

“say it.” he pulls out and rams back in once again, the process repeats itself all over until you eventually start to give in.

“y-you make me feel so good.” you whisper. bokuto’s eyes lit up again and a proud smile creeps up to his lips as he starts to fuck you again.

“that wasn’t so hard was it?” he leans down to nibble your neck as your body arches and your legs slowly wraps itself around his waist. “only i can make you cum, right?”

you let out a shaky ‘yes’ to answer his question, though your mind is rather occupied on how his throbbing cock fills every inch of you and your walls wrap so tightly around his.

“so-- fucking tight,” he hisses. “tell me whose cock is making you feel this good right now?”

“yours!” you wail, hands clutching firmly on his shirt. you feel so close and you know that he feels the same from the way he picks up his pace to chase after his high. with a few more “encouraging” whispers slipping from your mouth, bokuto groans as he finally cums inside you and just as what he wishes for, you reach your second orgasm with him. bokuto pants for air while leaning down to the crook of your neck, his cock still twitching inside you to release the last few drops before he’s sure that he’s empty.

“you can only look at me, and only me.” he murmurs and tilts your head to face him before crashing his lips onto yours once again.

deep down you’ve always known and maybe you shouldn’t have underestimated that even outside the court, bokuto craves for attention.

duskamethyst © 2020 • do not modify, translate or repost anywhere.

[mrs-march-ahs]

Hey beautiful!! If you have the time/ inspo could you pls do a full Kit fic based on that nipple clamp scenario you described?? It would be greatly appreciated but no pressure if you cant! Thanks and love you!!

Mr Walker’s Treat, Your Punishment

Yes queen, I’m sorry it’s been literally 6 years since you sent this request, I hope you love it. I chose to use clothes pins instead of nipple clamps, and decided against a daddy kink since y’all brought up a lot of good points. Mr Walker is it.

Summary- After losing a bet with Kit, his dark kinky side comes out and he punishes you with the one thing he’s dreamt of since the day he met you.

Words- 2k. I’ve been writing too many headcannons, need to stop being lazy and start writing longer fics for y’all😤

Another request that was a similar was- “Hi! I don’t really know how to work tumblr so if this is bad or something, sorry but can i get a smut about Kit Walker having a boob kink? I loved your Kai one with the mommy kink and all that but if you don’t wanna write it ofc you don’t have to. thanks <3″, I hope you’re here! I hope you enjoy! 

No cap this might be the hottest thing I’ve written, enjoy! 🥵

--

“This isn’t like you, I kind of like it”, you giggle, as Kit ties your hands to the bed frame with the only two ties he has. He smiles down at you, straddling your stomach, fumbling with the ties before he finishes, and looks around the room.

“Hm?”, you ask.

“I need something to cover your eyes”, he says, before getting off the bed and looking at the pile of dirty clothes by the wall.

“Ooo, kinky”, you can’t help but giggle at how unusual it was for Kit to be this adventurous. Not only a few days ago did he propose a 69, but he also was willing to make it a game. Whoever came first lost, and the winner could do whatever they pleased with the loser. The second the proposal left your lips, a certain dominant twinkle sparkled in his eye and activated the horny young man he had inside of him. You pulled out all the tricks you had, but no matter how deep you took him in your mouth, and how much you choked on him trying to make him let go, nothing seemed to work. He was so focused on slurping you up and licking you raw that he barely realised your mouth was on him. All he had in his mind was the sight of you, tied up, and your kitchen timer set for him to do with you as he pleases.

You could’ve never expected what was to come, since Kit never showed a particular interest in anything kinky. But your body was ready to be at his mercy.

“How about these?”, Kit asks holding up a pair of dirty underwear to cover your eyes with. You scrunch up your nose in disgust and shake your head.

“Absolutely not, do you not have any more ties?”. Kit throws the pants back on the dirty pile and takes some sweatpants out of his drawer.

“How fancy do you think I am, doll?”

You chuckle at the way his accent proved his point, before looking up at him in awe when he returned to his position on your crotch. He shuffled around as he straddled you, before putting the legs of the sweatpants around your eyes, poking his tongue out slightly as he tries to tie a knot. After a minute of struggling, Kit becomes impatient and takes the makeshift knot off your face, and puts your face inside of the pants where his butt would go, making you both laugh at how unsexy your homemade blindfold is.

“Hey, it works”, Kit laughs before reaching over to the kitchen timer on your bedside table. He twists it to an hour and sets it down, then proceeds to get off you and leave the room. You wriggle around the bed as you hear Kit walk out.

“Is this what you wanted? To tie me up and leave me for an hour?”, you whine loudly so Kit can hear. He collects his desired (and prepared earlier) items before shouting back to you from the kitchen, “More whining like that and I’ll leave my naughty girl tied up for two”.

You become visibly aroused at the new dirty nickname and bite your lip at what Kit has in store for you. Just as your mind is about to wander to the filthy things you ache for, Kit comes back and puts, what sounds like quite a few, things on the bedstand.

He kneels at the end of the bed and crawls over to you slowly, admiring the sight of you bare chested and rubbing his body against yours. He presses his lips to your neck and kisses you slowly, the quiet sounds right against your ear making you open your mouth. Admittedly, not being able to see heightens the pleasure, and makes even the simple activity of being kissed down to your chest even more erotic than before. You’re both very touchy and affectionate to one another, so you quickly feel the effects of being tied to the bed, when you tug slightly against your restrains wanting to run your fingers through Kit’s hair as he softly sucks on your collarbone. Kit closes his eyes and breathes against your skin as he moves down to attach his lips to the sensitive skin around your nipple, teasing you before he gets to it. He uses his other hand to wrap around your other boob, not wanting to waste a minute of the hour he has with your girls. You rub your thighs together slightly, aroused from the feeling of Kit’s mouth inching closer to nipple, but Kit stops you when he presses down, putting his body weight on you, only propping himself up on his elbows to be face level with your naked chest. The extra restrain of not being able to move frustrates you; Kit’s chest pressed down on your still clothed crotch stops you from creating any friction.

Kit never makes it to your nipple, after kissing around it for the longest minute of your life, he grazes his lips against it, before sitting up slightly and reaching over to the bedstand. The teasing lack of contact makes you huff.

“Don’t be impatient, you lost, deal with the consequences”, Kit says, now completely sat up fumbling with something in his hands, squishing your lower torso, stopping you from moving.

“Yes, Mr Walker”, you mockingly say like a child. But the term of endearment shows you respect Kit’s new dominant authority, and he swallows it up.

“Mr Walka’s got you, just sit back and relax”. Kit flicks open a cap and drizzles some liquid on your chest, making you gasp. He shushes you softly, and puts his large hand on the edge of your boob, to ensure it doesn’t drip down to the mattress. He places the bottle down and runs his fingers around in the pool of cool oil and slides them around your tits, soaking in the sight of the trails he leaves glistening. He purposely still avoids your nipples, instead circling his fingers around them. Even when he finally places his hands on either breast, kneading them and rubbing in the oil into them, though distracted by the gorgeous sight, he doesn’t give attention to the one place you yearn for it most.  

“Please…”

“Please what?”. You open your eyes under the cover, not even realising when a whimpering please left your lips. Although you wanted Kit to do anything he wanted to you, your body was tingling and tired of being teased.

“Touch them, Mr Walker”

Kit smiles at your eagerness and how easy it is for him to dominate you and have you begging, and holds back from the urge to rip your clothes off now and pound you into oblivion, knowing that if he can have you begging already, there’s more to come. He cups your tits and rubs his thumb over your hard nipples. The slightest touch makes you bite your lip, feeling overwhelmed by how such simple affection can send a rush of arousal through your whole body, making you resist the need to arch your back.

Unexpectedly, Kit takes his hands off your chest and takes a few seconds to look at them, making you even needier than before. He flicks your right nipple with his finger, making you flinch at the feeling. The minimal pain it brings subsides quickly, but the lingering touch stays and is only reset when Kit does it again, and again, and again. He takes it in turns to flick each nipple, biting his lip hard at the sight of you flinching every single time. When he stops and puts his hands on his thighs, you relax your body, savouring the slight sting from the consistent flicking.

Kit puts his hands above your shoulders and leans down, not touching you but admiring how pink your nipples turn, satisfied knowing that they will be sensitive and ready for the next activity planned. Kit leans over to the night stand, and messes around with the multiple things he has, leaving you motionless and completely submissive to whatever else he wants to do to you.

Kit sits back up and clears his throat, making you nervous slightly. He cups one boob, and you feel a sudden harsh squeeze on your nipple, making you wince. He takes it off and puts it on further, the uncomfortable nipping turning into a constant pinching of your nipple. The sensation feels weirdly sexual, and leaves you holding back a moan at first, but letting it out when Kit puts a clothes peg on the other nipple, too. Though the sight of you being used is enough for Kit’s bulge to protrude through his white underwear, desperate for attention, Kit’s intention is only to tease you, not to hurt you.

“Is this okay?”, Kit says awkwardly. You can hear the quick slurp Kit has to do as whatever is filling his mouth almost escapes.

“It’s… amazing”, you breathe out.

“Who woulda thought you’d be so naughty, hm?”. You furrow your eyebrows at what he could possibly be eating right now, but quickly melt under the weight of his lewd description of you.

Kit steps off you and stands up, chuckling darkly at the helpless view of you trying not to wriggle from the intense feeling at your sensitive buds. He takes off his shirt and drops it by the bed, not being able to rip his eyes off you laying there, wondering what he’s doing and when he’ll be back and close to you again. He slides his underwear off as silently as he can, before stepping closer to the bed, his hand wandering to his crotch, stroking himself looking at you.

When he kneels back on the bed and flicks the clothes peg, you whimper out at the endurance needed to take the uncomfortable pinch for so long. Kit moans quietly at you whimpering, before quickly slapping away the clothes peg, letting them rip off your nipples and fly across the room. You hiss at the painful turnout, making Kit instantly soothe your pain with an ice cube he holds to your nipple. You cry out at the action, and Kit smiles, before latching his mouth to your other nipple, settling the pain he induced with his freezing cold mouth and lips, swirling his tongue around your pink nipple. Tears escape your eyes at the unexpected pleasure, and a shiver breaks through your body when the ice cube between Kit’s warm fingers begins to melt and run down your side, giving you goosebumps.

Your breaths become hitched as swaps his hands and mouth, softly suckling on you with his cold lips, humming at the way you moan when he suckles harder. Your thighs can barely stay still on the mattress, moving around hoping to feel something and release the pool of pressure you feel between them. But Mr Walker doesn’t accept that, immediately sliding his hand between your legs and squeezing your inner thigh, not letting them touch and not giving you any more release than necessary. You completely let go and quickly become a whimpering and moaning mess when his hands and mouth work wonders on your body, squeezing and licking everywhere but where you need it.

“Mr Walker”, you whimper out, not being able to handle the punishment any longer.

Kit rubs his fingers against your freezing nipple as the last of the ice melts away, and removes his mouth off you with a sucking pop. He slides the sweatpants off your face, revealing the tears filling your eyes and running down your cheek. Alarm bells ring in Kit’s mind and he leans down close to you and wipes your tears away.

“I’m so sorry doll, did I go to hard on you? You shoulda said something”

“No, Kit, I need more… please”

Kit smirks at you begging once again, but sits up cockily and looks down at you.

“Sorry darling, but this was your punishment, you lost, remember? Besides…”

Kit stops in his sentence and you furrow your eyebrow in question, before, as if on cue, the kitchen timer dings.

“Sorry doll, we’re outta time”

You whine in annoyance and look up at Kit, who stands up and twists the timer again. He sets it back down before walking towards the bedroom door to exit.

“Are you not even gonna untie me?”, you whine loudly. Kit stands in the door frame with his hand on the door handle, ready to leave.

“Why? So, you can touch yourself the second you’re free? I told ya darling, if you’re whiny and naughty, imma just leave you here”

You look up at Kit in disbelief before pulling at the secure ties on your hands.

“Have fun”, Kit says, before winking at you and leaving.

━━━━━━♡♤♡━━━━━━

@milly-louise  @amourtentiaa  @kitwalker02  @tatestripedsweater  @therenlover  @maria-akira         @tatesimper  @sallyscigarettes  @mossybank  @ahsxual  @mxlti-fand0m-imaginess  @mrs-march-ahs-biggest-fan  @kitwalkerangel  @kitisagoldenretrieverboy @darlingkitt  @blackbat2020   @undeadcortez @whiiiiplaaaaash @kaismessiahbb @elaineygrace @divinerulerluvr

[burndownyourparade]

Dabi x Reader - Crossed My Heart

This literally had zero direction. It’s my first reader insert piece and it has nothing to do with the Olivia Rodrigo song, the lyric was mainly used as a loose prompt inspiration. It’s also been a long as heck time since I’ve sat down and really written anything so oof. But, I do plan on writing some more drabbles here and there. I’ve got Dabi/Touya brain rot bad. So expect a lot of him.

You used me as an alibi. I crossed my heart as you crossed the line.

pairing: dabi x reader (gender not specified)

length: 2k words

genre: angst, fluff if you squint real hard

warnings: mentions of death, the burning at sekoto peak. nothing detailed.

You’d been there. You had watched him go up in flames. The beautiful bright blue dancing across your eyes and you knew you’d never see him again. He’d be lost to you forever, but you promised.

And you were willing to do anything for him. Even if it meant breaking your own heart. 

So when you’d sit up at Sekoto Peak every year after his disappearancedeath you’d curse his name. Curse him for leaving you behind, for not coming back to you. Not even a single sign of if he was okay.. If he was still out there. 

When you’d seen this new villain on the news, just a few years ago, you had an inkling. A thought that maybe it had been him. He talked big about getting back at his father. Dishing back out everything he’d had to endure as a child. And at age 15 when you encouraged him, you never thought it would come to this. 

So today, when you sat up at Sekoto Peak, ten years after the incident, the spiteful, “Fuck you, Touya.” That left your lips didn’t go unheard. 

In all honesty he’d planned on coming clean. He had planned on coming back to you. After all, you were the only person who really meant anything to him. But then he got way too involved with Stain’s cause and the league, there was no way he was going to risk putting you in any danger. If that meant having to write you off, then so be it. 

Eventually you’d find out that Dabi was Touya, eventually you’d know that he was still alive after all these years. No more doubt would cloud your mind, but he had a feeling you’d come to hate him for waiting so goddamn long. 

It was when he’d heard his name, the anger dripping from your sweet voice that had him moving his feet towards you. He wasn’t planning to reveal himself, but he needed to at least try redeeming himself before even thinking of continuing his plan to bring down Endeavor. None of it would have meant anything if he couldn’t come back to you. If he wasn’t going to be able to run away with you like the two of you had planned.

“You have to promise you won’t tell anyone about this.” Touya held your hands in his, begging you. He was tired and run down. Bandages wrapped around his arms from his most recent burns. He didn’t know how he was going to do it. But he was going to fake his death. He was going to run away. 

You stared at him, wide eyed and reluctantly nodded your head to his plea. “Will I see you again?” The fear was evident in your voice and if that quiver didn’t give you away, then the way that your hands shook in his would. The tears in your eyes blurred your vision, but you could still see him. You could see his messy white hair fall into his bright blue eyes. You could see the bruise that was forming under the left eye, no doubt a result of training. And you wondered if this was his only solution. If this was really the only way that he’d be able to outrun this.

He could practically feel the pain reverberating off of you, it bounced off of him too. He didn’t want to leave you. But he had no other choice. He was trapped and all he wanted was to make something of himself. To prove to his father and everyone around him that he wasn’t worthless, he wasn’t a lost cause. He could do it, too. He was powerful just like Shoto. 

Touya was torn, he knew that this hurt you… Leaving you hurt him too, even if you couldn’t see it. Even if he was acting selfishly. “Of course.” He nodded, snow white hair moving wildly with the frantic nodding of his head. “I’ll come back for you and we’ll run away.” He promised, you could see the makings of a plan in his head. The way that his eyes moved when he was deep in thought, “We can start a life together. Build a house and adopt all the cats and dogs you want!” His hands moved to your shoulders, shaking you lightly with excitement before pulling you into him. His arms wrapping around you tightly.

He never cried in front of you, but today was different. He didn’t know when he’d see you after today, but he did know he refused to break his promise to you. A single tear slipped down his cheek.

“I love you, Touya.” You murmured into his shirt, breathing him in. If this was the last time in a while, then you were going to make the most of it. You tilted your head, looking up at him. Sadness washing over you and feeling your own tears begin to slip. You leaned up on your toes, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth and felt the way his lips turned upwards in a soft smile. An almost dreamy looking flashing across his face. 

“I love you too, (y/n)... I’ll come back for you, I swear.” His hands shifted again, this time to cup your cheeks and bring your lips to his. This kiss was soft and sweet, not unlike ones you’ve shared before but there was a sense of urgency to this one. Almost like he had been trying to convey every single thing he felt for you in this brief moment. He didn’t want to pull away, but when he did he felt your hands tighten around the fabric of his shirt. Just barely hearing your whisper begging him not to go, but he shook his head, gently moving your hands to take a step back from you.

“Please don’t watch…” Touya asked, giving you a gentle shove away from him. “Once you see my flames run… Run and tell someone about the fire and then go home. I’ll see you again soon, I promise.”

You bit your lip and nodded your head, running a safe distance away into the trees. Waiting to watch his flames burn around him. You stuck around a little longer than he’d asked you to, only to make sure that he was safe… That he was still okay. But you couldn’t make out anything other than the heat and Touya’s screams. 

At fifteen your heart shouldn’t have shattered that hard.

He didn’t know how you’d react to this. Hell, he didn’t even know what he was doing. Dabi had never planned on this. He was merely moving on pure emotion now. On things he thought he had forgotten, but when it came to you he was always weak. The only reason his resolve had even broken in the first place was because of how angry you sounded. The villain hated the thought of him becoming nothing to you. Ironic, when he was practically nothing to everyone else.

You stood in the same place where you both had parted ten years ago and he was quietly standing just a few feet behind you. He was uncertain of if he should reach out to you or just turn and run, was this even a good idea? But his feet wouldn’t stop and then his mouth started moving and before he knew it, he was speaking. 

“This Touya guy must have really fucked up, huh?” He cringed, ten years and this was the first thing he was saying to you? Ideally, in his head, whatever he’d dreamt up in his spare time was grandiose plans of sweeping you off your feet. He’d be done with the league, ready to pack up and start brand new. He’d have taken down Endeavor’s credibility and shattered Enji’s entire world. Yeah, that son of his who wasn’t going to amount to anything? He was something now. He was his greatest nightmare and deepest failure. And the consequences of his actions were coming back to bite him in the ass. Then, he’d be there for you. In the night he’d have found you, confessed his deepest feelings and that nothing had changed. Then you’d run away like he promised.

Your fists clenched at your sides, you recognized that voice, of course you did. How wouldn’t you when his promise haunted your dreams every night? His voice was a little deeper, raspier, richer. And for a moment, you hesitated in turning to face him, but when you did you couldn’t stop the way that your heart picked up pace. It was him, in the flesh, Touya was here. But he wasn’t Touya anymore… Not on the outside.

“Yeah, he’s a fucking asshole.” You played along with him. Both of you knew this was just a game, testing the waters to see if anything had really changed. “Promised he’d come back for me, but never showed up.” There was a smile on your face now, a sad one and Dabi felt his heart clench in his chest when he saw it. “Waited ten years for him.” You pressed, watching his reactions.

He deflated, he didn’t have an excuse. He could have come to you sooner and he knew that his whole keeping you safe excuse was bullshit. Dabi was just afraid. He was afraid of what you’d think when you saw him again. Dabi wasn’t Touya. He didn’t look like the boy you’d fallen in love with before. Smooth, pale skin was now rough and charred, the white hair with tufts of red now dyed black and coarse from the years of mistreatment. “I’m sorry.” Was all he could say.

“You could have come to me.” Your voice was soft and he knew that you were hurt. “Why didn’t you come back for me?” The way that your voice cracked made his heart break. He prided himself on being hard, on not allowing himself to feel petty emotions anymore, but unbeknownst to his comrades; you’d always be the only exception.

He was honest with you, “I was afraid.” And it was the first time in ten years that he’d been vulnerable, he was almost ready to run off with you. Dabi was ready to give up on his revenge plot against Endeavor, he just wanted to run away with you. To be just (y/n) and Touya.

“Of what?” You asked, nearly breathless and unbelieving. There was nothing he had to worry about. It didn’t matter who he was now or what he was doing. He would always be Touya to you. A boy who suffered more than he should have. The boy that you were ready to drop everything and run off with. The only boy you had ever loved and would ever love.

“I’m not the same.” He looked at you, uncertain. He still hadn’t gotten any closer to you and his hands twitched with anticipation. It had been so long since he’s held you. Dabi wanted to close the distance, to pull you into him and feel whole again.

“You’re still you.” You countered, shaking your head. You weren’t about to give the villain any room for excuses. He was still him and that’s all he’d ever be to you. You knew that he knew that. 

“I’m sorry.” He repeated, this time Dabi took a step closer to you. Carefully watching your movements, gauging on if he could move any closer. When there wasn’t any move on your part to shift away from him he took another step. And another.. Another, another, until he was wrapping his arms around your waist, pulling you into him. His lips gently touch the crown of your head, inhaling your scent. “Run away with me.”

You returned his touch almost immediately, arms wrapping around his thin middle. Melting into him and letting out a sob of relief, you were home again. “I thought you’d never ask.”