#i kept hearing clanking but I thought it was a button

[niuniente]

Guess who washed her headphones in a washing machine.

(ʘ ͜ʖ ʘ;)

Somehow, the ancient 3 euro headphones still work.

ヾ(⌐■_■)ノ♪

[burningstar-light]

Broken Silence

Nicolas Brown x reader

Summary: This is the worst overdose Nicolas has ever been through, will it take him from you?

Warning: Mentions of blood and death.

Rating: SFW, canon level of violence.

Wordcount: 1382

Requested?: No

Red, it was always red with him, the red of blood that always soaked his clothes, his skin, his clothes, always the red. My eyes were locked on the red that soaked his pants, the belt just above it wrapped around the meat of his thigh, cutting the blood flow, it wasn't tight enough. I should move, get to him, hold him, I should, I should, yet I could not, my feet were rooted to the ground, I stood like a tree, watching the world spin around me. Voices yelled all around, yet there was silence in my head, silence in a way that made it seem so loud, the silence of the night, only the darkness. A crackling voice cut through the loud silence, the sounds rolled together, the voice sounded drunk, more than that, the person’s tongue must have been thick in their mouth, like they weren't using it as they spoke. The voice spoke again, it was a name… My name.

I tug my eyes away from the red, his body spasmed, a blond man held the body down, I looked at the spasming body, the shirt had rolled up revealing the scars on the abdomen, one of them the thickest ran below his pants up to the center on his stomach, just above the belly button. The body spasmed again, and my eyes slid higher to the face, dark eyes stared back at me, sinking into my very soul, he could see the fear that kept me where I stood, he looked tired, more so than normal, his normally tanned skin was pale, bloodless. There was red here too, red that dripped from his bottom lip, pearly white teeth sunk into the soft flesh, his face tightening as a spasm ran through him, more red dripped down his chin. I watched him relax back into the bed, the white sheets flecked with red, his dark eyes opened again, he was looking into me again, tired eyes pleading, his lips parted and a croaky voice came out, my name again, he was calling to me even on the verge of death he called for me.

 A memory filled my mind, the first time he had said my name, the darkness of his cheeks as the letters tumbled from his mouth, he couldn’t hear it, but the way people looked at him as he spoke told him enough, others found his voice off putting, the way it swirled words together. We had been walking, to the library, as a normal and the child of a favored servant I had been allowed to go where I wished, his fingers held loosely to mine, as I tugged him along. I glance back at him, grinning brightly, his dark eyes were on me, as they always were, his face remained the same he so rarely smiled, only when it was just the three of us, Wallace, myself and Nicolas would he smile. I had pushed the door of the library open, only to be yanked back as he did not move, his feet remained planted firmly on the line that seperated the hallway from the library. I looked back at him, he shook his hair, the mop of dark hair flying around his face, he refused to move even as I tugged. I knew what he thought, he wasn’t allowed to come in here, why would a monster like him be coming into a place of knowledge, his father had drilled into him that he was just a tool for war. I signed to him, the signs were clumsy, it was okay for him to come in with me, to be my guard as I ventured in between the pages of my books. He grunted softly, taking a tentative step over the line, I pulled him along with me and he followed, his fingers squeezing tighter. I pulled a book from the shelf, his hand never slipping from my grasp as I walked to the back row, there was a small darker corner there, he felt safer in corners. I sunk into the ground, crossing my legs and placing the book in my lap and opening the pages, the leather of the cover was soft on my fingers. He sat down next to me, shoulder brushing mine, his tags clanked together quietly as he leaned over, his chin hovering over my shoulder, dark eyes scanned the page, I glaced over at him there was a blank yet confused, he huffed the hot air brushing my ear. My name tumbled from his lips, a slur of words, the letters blending into one, warmth surged through me, my stomach fluttering, never had he said my name, again, I wanted to hear him say it again and again. His cheeks were dark as I turned to face him, his dark eyes were wide, innocent almost, he pointed to a word on the page, he didn't know what it was or meant, I explained it, it was a basic word, but still he looked at me as if I held all the secrets in the world. He said my name again after that, my name and I thank you, my cheeks felt hot at the sound of him saying my name, like I knew a secret that no one else knew.

I was ripped from the warm glow of that memory by that crackling voice called my name again, it was deeper than the memory, fingers reached for me, always he reached for me, he would wait, wait until my hand fell into his. My name was like a mantra on his lips, the only word that fell from as he twisted on the bed, sweat dripping from his skin, tears pooled in his eyes, a line of silver that filled his lower lash line, my body stumbled forward, like Nicolas had yanked me to him, those hands reaching for me as they always had. My hand fell into his, his fingers curling around mine, his skin was clammy, colder than normal, he was normally so hot, his skin burning, but now it was cool, was it sweat that made him colder, or is it something worse, did death loom over him like an unwanted guest. My lips parted in a low groan spilling from throat as his hand tightened on me, squeezing so tight I swear i could have heard my bones creaking, another fit had seized him, the noises he made, they made me sick like an animals dying moments, harsh breaths and crackling moans of pain. His mop of dark hair clung to his face with sweat, his body relaxed, his breaths evening out, sleep had taken him, sleep and not death, his fingers still clung to mine, like a babe clinging to their mother.

A hand brushed my shoulder, gently pushing me down, forcing me to sit, they slid a chair under me. I looked up at the person who had made me sit, a vibrant blue eye stared back at me, Worick, I watched his lips form words, they couldn’t speak over the noises in my head but I understood nonetheless, Nicolas would be fine, he had gotten through the worst of it. He would live, Nicolas would live for me, as he had promise all those years ago, back when we had been young, when I wasn’t waiting for him to leave, I knew one day he wouldn’t come back from one of these fits, but still i clutched to the words we had spoken to each other.

He loved me, even if we hadn’t spoken the words, I could tell, he would always crawl back to me, bloody and beaten, high out of his mind, yet he would always crawl back to me. How many times, how many times had we been in this situation, never this bad, never had he been so close, and yet he stayed, he clung to me, to life, for me.

[heaven-s-black-box]

Deja Vu- Mikayuu

Return to File- Event Masterlist

Recovery date: April 28th, 2020

Description: Enemies to Lovers

Notes: This is an entry from the Mikayuu 2020 bingo records. Click here for the next entry.

Word count: 823

Back to directory

The mountain side was rough and uneven. This was not appreciated by the horses, especially while carrying knights and one was even pulling a cage. Prince Yuu had been tasked with capturing the wizard in the mountains, so he was riding up the mountain with five other knights. His father had tasked him with bringing down the wizard to prove he was ready to be king.If he could think up a plan to capture the wizard and go through with it, he was smart enough to be king. Because while Yuu was a skilled fighter, he wasn’t the brightest.

Stopping in front of the cave, they dismounted. It was a wide entrance but they didn’t want to risk bringing horses in. If there was a cave in or something, the horses would only slow them down. Score one for Yuu’s brain! Lighting a torch, he led the knights into the cave. It was deeper then he’d thought, although it crossed his mind that he may be in the wrong cave… He was pretty sure he was in the right place.

Suddenly the torch went out and Yuu couldn’t breath. Whipping his head around, he tried to find something, anything. Preferably whatever was stopping him from breathing, although he couldn’t see anything. The next thing he knew, he was out.

When he woke up, his body felt heavy. It wasn’t dark anymore, and it looked like a dimly lit study. Trying to get up, he heard the clanking of chains against stone. Looking down, he found his wrists chained to the wall behind him.

“So you’re awake,” came a voice from the other side of the room.

He looked up and around finding a stairwell. At the base was a boy his age. He was wearing a white button up rolled past his elbows and black pants. His hair was a very pale blond and was tied back. 

“Who are you? Let me go!”

“Mikaela,” he walked over to a table in the middle of the room, “but you can call me Mika. As for the chains...” He snapped his fingers and the chains fell.

Yuu rubbed his wrists and made his way to Mika. “I’m looking for the wizard that lives in these mountains. He was probably the one who knocked me out, did you see him?”

Mika looked at him, then turned back to his book. “You aren’t very smart are you?”

“He-” Mika pointed at himself.

“You’re looking at him.

“What! But wizards are supposed to be old, and have long beards and weird robes! There’s no wa- how… huh?” He looked at Mika with the dumbest expression ever.

“Geez,” Mika huffed, “fine, don’t believe me. But you aren’t going anywhere.”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re my insurance. If I have you, they can’t kill me. Therefore you aren’t leaving.” Mika shrugged with his statement. 

Yuu scowled and reached for his sword, only to finally realize it was gone. Mika snickered but still kept to his book. Instead, Yuu reached further behind him to the knife he kept. That was also missing and Mika finally spoke again.

“You really aren’t that bright huh? How were you even planning on being king?”

“Shut up!” Yuu swung at Mika and Mika leaned away. Then Yuu ran to the stairs and Mika just watched. He climbed the stairs until he came out the top. Only he found himself on the other side of the room he came from. Mika was still in the chair, and he looked up and waved. 

This would be the start of an interesting friendship.

---

After about the first month and a half, Yuu had given up on escaping. Mika wasn’t sure if it was because he realized he wasn’t going anywhere or he didn’t care anymore. By the end of the second month, Yuu had actually begun to take an interest in Mika’s work. Apparently, he was looking for a way to reverse the curse on his mentor. His mentor had been turned into a bat, the same bat that always seemed to get in his face when he sat beside Mika.

Mika and Yuu found each other's company nice. Yuu would sometimes hear Mika whing to the bat. It was usually something along the lines of, “it’s so cliche.” Now, normal people would probably start putting things together. Mika’s blush when they talked, the invitation to share a bed, asking Yuu to help him, you know that stuff. But not Yuu. It took Mika pulling Yuu into a kiss to make him realize. And they were both reduced to blushing messes.

After awhile, Yuu spoke up, “You know… there's a village on the other side of this mountain. I heard they were looking for a wizard, we could… you know…”

Mika looked up from the floor. “Pardon.”

“I said we could maybe move there!” Both their faces turned bright red and Yuu looked down.

“I- I like that idea…”

[mcyt-builds-contest]

After Dream was finally put in the Vault, Sam find an unsuspecting visitor.

The cell was cold and dark, the obsidian walls depressing, only a bed and a cauldron keeping Bdubs company.  The cell was big too, at least bigger than what you would expect from a prison cell, and was closed off by a lavafall, and while this cell was only the second safest cell, for Bdubs, it looked as good as unescapable.

Bdubs, didn’t understand why he had been imprisoned, to be fair he didn’t understand what he was doing in this universe in the first place, he was sure the rift should have just taken him back to hermitcraft, instead of dropping him behind a giant burning trunk, and closing off behind him.

A loud clicking interrupted Bdubs’ train of thought, and soon enough, the lava was starting to disappear, slowly revealing some sort of creeper hybrid, and another figure hiding further in the darkness.

“Hi, Prisoner 001, I am here to let you know that this establishment just changed it’s administration. I’m Sam, I built most of this place and is the main warden, but I no longer respond to Drea –“

“Let me out! I have to feed my horses, for god’s sake!!”

“…”

“geeze, didn’t you hear me Docm wannabe? I NEED TO FEED MY HORSES!”

“Uh… No?”

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN NO?? I HAVE NO REASON TO BE KEPT HERE! THIS PLACE IS A CIRCUS!” While he would hate to admit it, Bdubs was easily angered, but he always tried to apologize, at least usually, ending up in an unfamiliar place had already put him on his nerves, and a month of solitary confinement can change a man.

“Listen, Prisoner 001, If Dream feared you enough to put you in here, I am not going to let you go, I don’t know why he put you here or what you did to him, but I’m not taking any chances, that guy is madman, nothing scares him! So, you are not to be trusted.”

With a swift movement of his left arm, where he was holding a chain, Sam moved the figure into the light of the lava, still covered by a thick black coat that looked like it was plated with netherite.

Sam seemed to still take his distance with the hooded figure, even if he them him chained up “This is going to be your new roommate, I found him looking in the backstage of the prison, way too interested in the redstone, I’m pretty sure he’s one of Dream’s spies,” he said before swiftly taking off the new prisoner’s coat. Revealing a blue-eyed blazeborn that immediately exploded in blue flames

“HOW DARE YOU CHAINING THE GREAT AND POWERFUL DUNGEON MASTER, I AM THE ONE WHO DOES THAT” Screeched the prisoner, his blue hair erupting in a pillar of fire, the anger in his eyes was more similar to some sort of madness.

Bdubs anger vanished, letting place to surprise instead, before he asked, “Tango? What are you doing here?”

The figure attention quickly shifted toward the cell on the other side of the lava pit, “Oh, hi Bdubs! This jerky-jerk took me by surprise while I was admiring the redstone system, it’s pretty impressive, even for me, but not as great as the great and horrific Decked Out and it’s warden-filled halls!” Tango quickly followed by hissing at his captor, before derogatorily adding “Not like you would know how to make a clank system, mister creeperface.”

Sam seemed confused by the interaction between his two prisoners, he had never seen Tango before finding him inside his door system, and didn’t recognise the name “Decked Out”, yet he had to be a spy, why else would he be looking through his redstone. And even if he wasn’t, Sam had no way to know how much Tango learned about the vault, and it wasn’t a risk he was ready to take.

With a press of a button, a small platform appeared in front of Sam and Tango, who sarcastically commented “Flying machines? How fancy!”

“I don’t have time for small talk prisoner 004, now get on the platform.”

“Alright, alright no need to be that cold, jerk!” answered Tango before stepping on the platform

Sam pressed another button, prompting the platform to fly across the lava pit, before getting to the cell, “Prisoner 001, I’m glad you’re in good term with your new roommate, because you’re going to be together for a long time.”

And as the lava started to fall down again, Sam could hear his new prisoner shouting, “Hey stupid, For you it’s dungeon master!”

A promise is a promise, so here you guys go (might not be lore accurate i'm not a dsmp fan)

How to stop a dreamer by @mcyt-builds-contest

Dream is faced with a power he had never seen before: shreeping

"It had been weeks since Dream started putting this plan, months even, it had to be perfect, everything was calculated, everyone had been studied, corrupted, manipulated. there were no variable left, not a single amount of "unknown" was allowed in this equation. Dream had done it, it was the perfect plan." Punz was monologuing while trying to sneak out of what remained of L'manberg without getting noticed, a compass in hand, tonight would this symphony be finaly finnished.

Dream didn't really have a base, but he was hiding a room in the castle he once gave to Eret, and the empty walls of the structure made it feel like a prison, none of the torches had been lit in a long time, except a faint light, dissapearing behind a corner. "For Goodness sake why does he keep doing it!?" Dream's voice echoed through the hallway, startling Punz for an instant, he had never heard him this upset before.

"Dream? Is something wrong?"

"Oh. Sorry Punz, I didn't see that you were there." answered Dream, his mask dangling in one of his hands, "It's just that my foolproof plan, wasn't foolproof enough!", his voice started to derail a little has Dream tried to keep his composure, his grip thightening on his mask, almost cracking it

"But we took everything into account!" Punz added, his voice tinted in disbelief as he sat down, "We didn't make a single error!"

Dreamed sighed, exasperated by this new obstacle, "Turns out, Ranboo can only enderwalk during nighttime,"

"And?"

"And that guy, what's his name again, Bdubs? seem to just be able to sleep it away!" Dream threw his mask down on the table, filled with maps, papers and books, before taking out a folder filled with hastly scribbled pages, covered in all kinds of markings, "Since he 'appeared' here two week ago, he skipped throught every single night."

"You have a solution right? you always find a solution!" Punz said before taking a closer look at one of the pages, on it was drawn a pair of sunglasses,a weird rift-looking location and some sort of weird structure, labeled "temple to the sun god (ME!), gifted by Sausaage :p", Punz took the rest of the green folder arbored with the meticulous drawing of a clock, before asking "Where did you find this?"

"I took them from a diary i found in that Bdubs guy's house!"

"And you have a plan then?"

"Of course i do" Dream slighlty smirked, before putting his mask back on, "Remenber that prison i made Sam build and i'm supposed to go in? I think we may have to change the convict :)"

[rafescoke]

Why’d You Only Call Me When You’re High ; Rafe Cameron

masterlist

Request: The second one I was hoping could be a Rafe x reader based on the song why’d you only call me when you’re high by arctic monkeys. Maybe something along the lines of rafe only calling and giving the reader attention when he wants to hook up. Finally, the reader gets tired of it their feelings known.

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Summary: Reader finds herself thinking about a certain boy more than what they had agreed on

Warnings: Hella angst, mentions of sex, masterbating, substance, cursing, toxic relationship

A/N: I’ve been updating a new fic every single day and the amount of love you guys are returning is beyond amazing. I love you so much, thank you for all of your kind words <3

p.s, again, my request box is always open. drop in any ideas and i’ll present to you my best :)

p.p.s, does anyone know why i can’t tag some users? im going crazy.

“I was thinking. . .” Rafe trailed, drawing invisible circles against her soft skin. She hummed in response, her eyes closed, feeling so relaxed under the silk bedsheet wrapping around her body.

“We should do this often.”

“Is twice a day isn’t enough for you?” she asked, hiding her smile. She felt him shift, placing his arms around her waist and pulling her close against him. She giggled lightly, feeling him behind her, but she was too tired to do anything.

“We should try doing it every minute,” he simply replied, smelling into her scent. She smelt like vanilla and caramel, just the way he likes it. “Is this the perfume I bought?”

“Yeah,” she mumbled, feeling so peaceful she could sleep if he hadn’t pulled her closer against his hardening member. She groaned, trying to scoot forward by an inch, but was stopped by his fingers gripping her hips.

“I’m sore.”

“I know,” he replied casually, still brushing against her bottom. Before he could do anything else she turned, now facing him. She looked at his handsome face, his blue eyes and his soft lips. Her thumb grazed over his top lip, and Rafe swore he could fuck her anytime soon if she kept doing that.

“Are you not tired?” she asked, now cupping his face. He stared into her eyes, feeling himself getting lost in them before giving her a smile.

“No.”

“You’re mental,” she sighed, but she failed to contain her laugh after. She giggled, still cupping his face, and she has never felt so calm and relax before. Just them two, on top of a bed in some cheap motel, sometimes hearing the couple staying on top of them screaming at each other.

“Are you?” he continued, tilting his head into her hands. She smiled when he closed his eyes, enjoying the warmth radiating from her. He loves it. He feels at peace.

(Y/N) sighed, loving yet also hating these kind of moments where she knew they would be acting like strangers after, in front of everyone else. She remembered the exact day after she had had sex with him for the first time, and how he acted so cold afterwards.

“Hey,” (Y/N) smiled, standing beside his form as he squinted his eyes against the bright sunlight to inspect his goal. He didn’t reply, swinging his golf club upwards and hit the golf ball. (Y/N) watched as it flew and landed near the goal, and expressed a smile.

“You’re good.”

“Huh?” he looked up to her, as if just noticed her existence. (Y/N) felt a pang of hurt across her heart, especially when he had just whispered so many love words into her ear the night before.

“I said you’re good.”

“Oh, thanks,” he muttered, already making his way back to where his friends were. Clearly not satisfied, she followed him suit, watching as his friends cheered for him. Rafe groaned even harder, and turned to look at her before they got too close to his friends.

“What are you fucking doing here?” he scolded, his eyes staring at a space beside her. (Y/N) raised a brow, being caught off guard, but she tried to play it cool.

“I’m a member of this country club too, Rafe,” she replied, scoffing. “You’re an asshole, do you know that? Are we not going to talk about last ni-”

“Shut up,” he grunted, looking backwards to check on his friends before pulling her a few distance away. “Look, I was on drugs last night. That was not me. Let it go, okay?”

(Y/N) has never experienced that kind of disrespect, and she swore she hated Rafe Cameron so bad that when she got home, she cried against her pillows until the night sky greeted her. 

She thought about the many other guys who tried to be with her, but she had pushed them all away for a certain rich boy living 6 houses away from her. The fact that her parents are good friends with Ward and Rose Cameron doesn’t make it any easier, not when she is forced to see him every single Saturday night for ‘barbecue night’.

“What are you thinking?” he suddenly spoke, interrupting her thoughts. She sighed, suddenly scooting away from him. He watched as she turned away, but he didn’t put much thoughts into it.

“I can still smell the weed from you,” she suddenly said, and Rafe let out a laugh. He rubbed his eyes, hating the fact that they are going to repeat the same topic they have fought countless of times before, especially after sex and they had both came down from the high.

“Don’t start, (Y/N), fuck,” he sighed, covering his face with his large hands. He watched as she scooted further, wrapping the covers around her body. “Can you please just lay right next to me?”

“I want to sleep,” she replied, and bit her lips before she could express any tears. Rafe sighed, groaning, and sat up straight, resting on the edge of the bed before reaching for his jeans discarded on the corner of the room.

“I’m leaving,” he said, and (Y/N) heard the metal bar of his belt clanking against his jeans button. “Since you wanna act like a bitch again.”

“You’re an asshole,” she replied, still not looking at him. A tear rolled down her cheeks before she could stop herself, and she quickly wiped them away.

“Whatever,” he said, and she heard the door slammed shut. She cursed, unable to stop her tears now that she was alone. The banter between the husband and wife from the room above filled the silence as (Y/N) sobbed against the pillow and she thought about how it resembled her and Rafe’s relationship so much.

He would call her when he’s under the influence, whispering sweet-nothings through the phone, saying how much he’s missing her and longing for her forehead kisses. The fight they had before the phone call will immediately evaporate into thin air, and (Y/N) will make her way to wherever Rafe is. Sometimes they’ll do it in the car in a secluded alley or sometimes in the cheap motel at Chapel Hill. 

But then it was the moments after their brief meeting that had her all moody and depress throughout the week; how he would ignore her, pretending not to see her and forcing himself to say ‘hi’ during their family barbecue.

(Y/N) never thought of herself as someone who’s prone to being in a sneaky relationship, but if that what it takes to be with Rafe Cameron, she was willing to be in one.

It had been a week since the incidence, and Rafe hadn’t call her to meet or anything of the sort. (Y/N) frowned when she thought of this, because the longest fight they had before only lasted for 2 days before he rang her up, asking to meet up. 

(Y/N) shook her head, sipping on her martini before setting it on the side of the swimming pool. She dived into the water, trying to get the heat from the scorching sun off of her, and resurfaced seconds after, her wet hair falling down her shoulders.

“(Y/N), where’s dad?” Topper appeared, squatting in front of her as she took another sip on the martini. Her eyes fell to the figure behind her brother, and she almost choked on the liquid.

“Um, I don’t know,” (Y/N) replied, staring at Rafe Cameron as he took out his phone to check on his messages, ignoring her like always. She rolled her eyes at this, knowing that there were no new texts and he was just trying to act like she wasn’t there. She dived into the water again and swam to the other side, away from Rafe and his negative energy.

If Rafe knew she was going to be in the swimming pool, he would have made an excuse to Topper, perhaps saying how he has to take Wheezie to the clinic for an appointment. (Y/N) was almost never home every time he hang out with Topper, so he thought he was safe. But there she was; in the most tempting bikini, swimming and constantly sipping on a martini.

Rafe sat right next to Topper, watching her back from the corners of his eyes as she gazed at the view in front of her. She was laying on her arms, lazily humming to a rock song Rafe plays every time he’s driving.

He jolted when Topper touched his hand. 

“What the hell is wrong with you?” Topper laughed, “I said, do you wanna eat?”

“I’m okay,” he mumbled, closing his eyes and thinking about good she looked in that bikini. He made a mental note to guess the brand to purchase more of that sort for her. 

“Okay, I’m going in to get myself some food. Are you sure you don’t want any food?” Topper asked, sitting on the edge of the seat. Rafe nodded, his eyes still closed, and heard him walking towards the sliding door into the kitchen.

“Why are you ignoring me?” 

Rafe opened his eyes, and to his satisfaction, the girl with the (H/C) locks stared at him with her face rested against her arms. His breath hitched, seeing how beautiful she was with the chlorine water dripping from her face, down to her neck, continuing to her che-

“God, you’re a fucking asshole,” she suddenly said, and Rafe had to shook his head from the involuntary thought that appeared in his mind. He groaned, watching as she dived in the water again, and almost catching a glimpse of her bottom. He smiled.

“Are you still a bitch?” he asked when she resurfaced, crossing his arms. “Because if you are, I don’t feel like fucking you right here and right now.”

(Y/N) halted her movements as she tried her best not to look at the smirking boy, and instead staring into the swimming pool as if there was something interesting in it. Rafe laughed, knowing exactly the impact of his words towards her, and thought about wanting to have a little more fun with her.

“I’m asking, baby,” he said softly, and her eyes landed on his. “Are you still a bitch?”

“I brought cookies!” Topper suddenly yelled, appearing from the sliding door and walking towards them with a bright smile. Rafe cursed, laying his back against the seat again and pretending to close his eyes while (Y/N) dived underwater, trying to hide her red face. He was glad when Topper handed him a cookie, talking about wanting to surf tomorrow - so oblivious towards the sexual tension between him and his own twin.

“What do you think?” Topper asked, munching on the cookies all the while trying to see Rafe’s reaction. Rafe nodded, muttering his agreement, but under his sunglasses, he was watching (Y/N) and she too, was watching him.

“Can I have a cookie, Tops?” (Y/N) suddenly interrupted, and without looking at her, Topper gave her a thumbs up sign. (Y/N) smiled, pulling herself up from the pool and Rafe almost had a heart attack from the sight of her curves donning the bikini and the water dripping off of her.

She walked towards them, hair swept to her left shoulder, and Rafe’s gaze followed her fingers as she grabbed a cookie and immediately putting it in her mouth. He watched as she closed her eyes, enjoying the sweet taste, all the while sitting under the glowing sun that highlighted her features even more.

He could feel himself getting harder.

“Well,” (Y/N) suddenly said, and Rafe had realized he was too busy looking at her to realize that she was already conversing with Topper. “I’ll go. Is Rafe coming too?” 

Both of the siblings’ attention fell towards him, and Rafe found himself clearing his throat before he spoke.

“I’m sorry, where are we?”

“Man, are you sure you’re okay?” Topper asked, removing his sunglasses to look at him clearly. “Do you need water?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Rafe quickly added, “Can I, um, go up to your room? I think I need a nap.”

“Yeah, okay,” Topper replied, not thinking much of it. They had been spending so much time under the sun during the summer, he wouldn’t be surprised if one of them got sick. “I’ll go upstairs in a second.”

He muttered a thanks, quickly making his way to the top of the house, where Topper stayed. He groaned, feeling himself getting harder, and hating the fact that she was most probably liking the way he was reacting. 

He locked the door of the bathroom he has been using since the first day he became friends with Topper, watching himself in the mirror. He closed his eyes while he tried to picture her in his mind, his fingers trying their best to untie the knot of the band of his swimming shorts.

He held himself in the palm of his hands as he pictured her again, this time with her under him. He started sliding his palm over his hardened member, his other hand safely placed on the sink for balance. He thought of the way she’ll bounce on him when she rides him, and bit his lips before he could let out any sounds.

Fuck. 

He hated how easy she’ll make him hard and how she has him wrapped around her finger. It was true how they would only do the unholy thing when he was under the influence or they were both under the influence, but he couldn’t deny the unsettling feeling in his stomach every time he saw her.

“Fuck,” he expressed, his grip on the sink tightening. His movements became faster as he tried to picture her mouth and around him, and felt his end coming. He left a string of curses as he finally released himself, watching the shot dripping off the sides of the sink. He grunted, having to do more work, and grabbed himself the white tissues before wiping his mess.

. . .

“Hey.”

“Hey, Rafe,” (Y/N) said, trying to maintain her normal tone. She bit her lips at the sound of his heavy breathing, missing his voice and also his handsome face. She longed to have his face in her hands again, staring at each other’s eyes and kissing each other’s lips right after.

“Can you come over?” he asked, his voice slurring. “No, I mean, can I pick you up?” The sound of laughter and booming music could be heard behind him, giving out his location. (Y/N) sighed, knowing the exact request behind the words, and looked at her wall to check on the time.

“It’s 12 a.m., my mom won’t allow me to go out.”

“Sneak out, then,” Rafe replied, and he said something to his friends before focusing back on her. “Please? I missed you.”

(Y/N) sighed, knowing exactly her problem.

This.

“Okay,” she replied, leaning over her mattress to close her laptop now that she had new plans for the night. “What time are you picking me up?”

“I can’t drive right now,” he said, suddenly realizing how sloshed he was. “Can you come and pick me up, please?”

She sighed again, but she had missed him so much. Him and his touches. His and his words.

Him.

“Okay, send me your location, okay? I’ll pick you up.”

(Y/N) thought about how she couldn’t do it anymore. Not when she has spent most of her life trying to make him love her. He had been friends with her brother since forever, but yet he never seemed to settle on her. She heard about the amount of girls he dated and how she tried to become like them, but after a while, she grew bored of it. She was tired of running after someone who doesn’t want to be caught.

Until the night at the party, where they had been smoking and doing coke and god knows what else. (Y/N) had watched him from the corners of her eyes, liking how attractive he looked under the party lights. He was in a black shirt, his hair messily parted, a cigarette loosely hanging from his lips.

“Thornton, do you know how perfect your smile is?” he asked, leaning towards her. (Y/N) giggled, her back against the wall as she stared into his eyes. 

“You’re mistaking me for my brother, Rafe?” she asked, with that smile again. Rafe licked his lips, looking down to hers before leaning closer to whisper into her ear.

“I’ve got to confess, (Y/N),” he whispered, sending shivers down to her spine. “You’re the hottest sibling.”

When she woke up the next day, laying right next to Rafe Cameron, she had to pinch herself a few times to make sure that she was living in reality, but when she tried to approach him that evening on the golf course, it was like nothing happened that night.

It scarred her until he rang her up again, six days after. 

“Rafe,” (Y/N) sighed, leaning over to open the passenger’s door from her seat, seeing how drunk he was. Rafe giggled, getting himself in before shutting the door and staring at her. He leaned towards her and placed a sloppy kiss against her cheeks, down to her neck and stopped directly before her chest.

“Just park in the back,” he ordered, placing his palm on the upper side of her thigh, too close to her heat. She bit her lips as she turned her steering wheel, entering the back alley of the club. Soon after he had texted her his location, she sneaked out through her brother’s porch and stole his car, driving straight towards Rafe.

She turned the ignition off and looked at him, watching as he unbuttoned his shirt slowly, groaning when he missed one button. He tried to reach for her, but she pushed his hand away, her face expressing into anger.

“Don’t pull this shit again, fuck,” Rafe sighed, throwing his head back against the seat and covering his face with his hands. (Y/N) caught a glimpse of a gold ring, and noticed how it looked so similar to hers hanging around her neck.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she said, filling the silence. Rafe let out a shrill laugh, still closing his eyes.

“Still a bitch, I guess.”

“This is the problem, Rafe!” she groaned, causing Rafe to look at her fully in the face when he noticed her increasing volume. “What are we?”

“What do you want to hear?” he simply said, staring at her with empty eyes. He licked his lips, “No, seriously. Tell me the answer, and I’ll say it.”

How cold could he be?

“Rafe, do you see how you’re treating me?” she asked, and she could feel her tears threatening to fall. “Do you realize the difference between sober Rafe and intoxicated Rafe?”

Of course he knew. He just chose to ignore it.

“I can’t do this right now,” Rafe said, putting his hands up in defeat. “Can we just fuck, get over whatever fight we’re having right now, and live our best lives the next day? Can we do that?”

He turned to look at her, and noticed her glassy eyes. He sighed, trying to cup her face, but she flinched at his touch.

“You make me feel like a whore,” she whispered, her lips trembling. “One second you love me, the next second you’re spitting on me.”

He just had the worst night of his life; having a fight with Ward about his business, bumping onto the pogues, catching Sarah and John B. . . and now this?

“You think too much,” he said, but his heartbeat was quickening. He stole a glance at her and watched as she stared at him with empty eyes. “I’m sober now. You know what, (Y/N)? You’re right. I can’t even look at you when I’m not under the influence.”

He turned to open the door, getting out while buttoning his shirt back, not wanting to look at her. He couldn’t stand it, he knew he’ll be too broken if he sees her cry over him. He didn’t know what to do; he panicked, never preparing for this exact moment where he knew she will ask about the state of their relationship.

He watched as she sped away from the alley, her engine roaring against the silence of that particular Friday night, where his day had been nothing but miserable. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying to contain his feelings, but before he knew it, he had kicked on the empty beer can on the side of the road, watching its movement as it hit the opposite wall and fell into the trash can.

He laughed at the strange occurrence, his tears slowly rolling down his cheeks and made his way back to the club.

If there’s one thing he’s so sure about himself; Rafe Cameron hates himself more than anyone else in the world.

-

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[noone-escapes-the-nowhereking]

No One Can Escape the NoWhere King

Summary:

The Nowhere King had such an interesting and sad backstory. He clearly didn't want to be evil but all that time trapped and alone in the dark? Having gone insane from being in that space alone so long?

The General and Nowhere Kings bond really got me thinking though and I wanted to expand on how they could feel the others pain and maybe even their emotions? Anyways slight spoilers for season two please enjoy! :)

Notes:

Yandere Nowhere King. Hes your problem now.

~~~

Staring at the Nowhere King eyes wide in terror you slowly back up depsite knowing it's futile. Back pressing against a machine, it's terrible machine that made all the minotaur troops that were killing your people. You shiver, feeling tears slowly come to your eyes. Feeling the cool metal under your fingertips searching for a button to get you out of this situation you swallow as your hand tremors. The General had told you stories of this monster and the castle that had endless horrors within its walls. Of his old memories and all the lost dreams for his Kingdom that died here. His wife who'd been lost. Backing yourself further into the machine scratching your arm against a sharp piece, you knew you could never escape and yet every fiber in your being told you to run. The minotaurs and vile creatures around you surrounded you. They lowly growled and hissed, making awful noises as you covered your bleeding arm.

Closing your eyes listening as thunder boomed outside before a bright flash leaked through your closed eyelids you tilted your head back knowing your end would be painful. That you may be devoured by the darkness of the NoWhere King or be torn apart by his troops. Yet all you hear is silence other than the rain patterning against stone outside.

The evil noises had stopped and you were left in a deafening quiet. A suffocating silence. Opening your eyes slowly, confused on if you were dead or not you stiffened as the Nowhere King Floated before you. Your hands once again gripped at the cold metal behind you. Desperately you searched for something to pull loose and use as a weapon as you kept eye contact with the Nowhere King but there was nothing. Heart pounding in your ears and tears pricking your eyes as white puffs of air left your mouth, you trembled before him. He tilted his skull head leaning in close as quiet clicks escaped his jaw. Flinching back as far as you could go he threw his horns back as his eyes glowed a menacing emerald. Putting up your arms ready to die the next words surprise you.

"Leave us." Shifting away from the machine edging away from him you tighten the grip on your bleeding arm watching the soldiers and false King closely. Blank helmets and yellow reptilian stares greet your eyes as low hisses escape the troop that had cornered you. Metal creaks and weapons clank as the soldiers bow. They slowly move in a mechanical fashion, a cacophony of metal scraping and shifting noises as they back away in a controlled fashion before exiting the bleak room.

A loud creak is the last thing you hear from them as an ancient and rusted metal door swings closed, trapping and locking you with the Nowhere King. As the sound echoes around the mossy stone cavern you stare at the door. You will your legs to move, to run, but you're frozen in place. Your eyes dart between him and the door. His glowing emerald fire casts light over your trembling form in the dark room as he softly breathes. A whimper dies in your throat as the NoWhere King leans forward, his skull ridge brushing your nose.

His hand... if you could call it that, separated from his not body, dripping as it slowly moved towards you. Pausing as it looms over your face you blink in surprise as it caresses your cheek. Its touch was goopy and strange but not what you expected. You thought it'd feel like burning hot tar, but no. It was oddly warm, almost comforting. Not at all like the uncomfortable burning you had expected from the Generals story. It didn't sting or leave painful marks but if he kept it there too long you had the feeling your face would begin to tingle before it would hurt. Thinking it over as it moves away leaving some of itself on you, you swallow. Maybe not burning tar like you thought but it could be compared to hot wax.

"You do not remember me, my love?" He asks. His voice wraps around you and makes your very being ache. You begin shaking unsure of how to answer such a question as your hand lingers over your pulsing heart. His words pulled at you, you knew him and yet you didn't.

No you didn't remember whatever this was and you didn't want to either. However it knew you and that couldn't be good.

The General was always telling heroic tales, always explaining his war stories. Old soldiers beaten half to death who'd once sat at heavens gate warned you of this creature as you dabbed them free of blood and bandaged them as best you could. You guess you lied to yourself. Everyone knew it. They feared it.

And now it had YOU.

This abomination of shadows, and night, and everything evil in the world swirled into one being. You could feel him staring when you turned away from it racking your brain for unknown answers. Your fingernails dug into your skin as you tried to calm yourself down. Rapid breathing began to give you a headache as you searched his face for what it wanted but it was emotionless. How did you know this thing? You'd only heard stories... you'd never actually seen It. But it left you alive this long that had to mean something. What did it want? Your breathing comes out shaky as you feel very trapped as you slowly walk backwards on the uneven and slippery castle tile. If you said no, would it kill you? If you said yes would it do something worse?

"... I don't know you." There's a pause heavier than steel and titling your head to see if the thing would respond if he'd hurt you, you jump as he had leaned in close on your other side, twirling around the machine and you like a snake. You hadn't heard him do that. You couldn't believe something so large could be so quiet. It just reminded you how deadly the NoWhere King was.

Watching quietly as the black mass dripped, as it leered over you. You felt some of him ooze onto you. Shivering at the sensation listening to it snort and take in deep heavy breaths his skull hovered just above your head as his magic eyes peered into your soul.

"You will." Stiffening in fear clenching your eyes closed it shushed you softly. Mocking noises escaping its maw. Hands or whatever you could call it's hands grabbing you before pulling you close. Struggling against him as tears begin spilling down your face it whispers soft reassurances trapping you in its arms. Struggling harder, its hold gets stronger and eventually as you begin to sink into the warm tar of his abysmal form you just go limp, unable to do anything else.

"Sleep." He states and closing your eyes you plan on doing just that.

~~~

The NoWhere King stares at the person he had taken. A smidge of his goo remained on them and he wished he could wipe it away. Keep them clean from the vile parts of himself but all it would do is add more. Huffing and getting closer he lays on the tower's floor watching them closely. He takes in every detail as they sleep, obsessively focusing on their chest as it rises and falls showing their breathing and that their heart is beating.

He'd dismissed his guards and after being alone with you, he'd knocked you out slowly, suffocating you against his darkness. He had then brought them here. Here where she once brought him. Their astronomy and library tower where they would read books and tell stories and laugh and stare at the stars...

His jaw shifts and clicks in an uncomfortable sort of way as he stared at them lying peacefully in a pile of soft things he'd acquired for them. Their comfort. Their needs. He felt hard to explain things for them. Much like he had her.

As his black goo shifted and dripped off him he stayed back to keep it from getting all over them. He tilts his skull, jaw still clicking in odd ways as he hummed low and deep in his throat. He observed the things he'd collected for them and wondered why. Why was he doing this? Things he hadn't had in what felt like centurie. Blankets. Pillows. Books. And still even more supplies all for you. Things he himself couldn't enjoy. And yet as he watched them peacefully rest against what he'd gathered them he knew why.

That General got in his head. His other half... that wretched part of him that looked enticing but was poison. He loved you. And now so did the NoWhere King. The General couldn't have you though, you were his now. He could love just as much. Provide more. You would never want for anything because he'd burn the world to give you everything. He was poison on the outside, dripping delicious death. He was indeed a cruel and malicious fate but only because the general had made him so. He had once been sweet, once been soft. He felt these things for her and now he felt them for you.

"My love..." He murmurs as you soundfully sleep in the nest he made. Snuggling deeper into the pillows and softness you were so unaware of the world around you. Of his presence right next to you. "My love you make me whole." He would never give you up. Never. You truly did complete him. He'd destroy anything that tried to take or hurt you. He'd give his very unlife to keep you safe. The only thing he could never gift you was your freedom. No, you needed to stay with him. You needed to be his or at least be only with him.

Lovely precious fragile thing. That's what you were and the Nowhere King swore he'd protect you.

"If you love him you can also love me." He muses reaching out to touch a strand of your loose hair. Tucking it behind your ear your face shifts and he pauses as you reach for him. You probably mistake him for the General. That thought revulses him. Pulling away to not disturb you he simply watches in silent vigil waiting for you to wake.

You would scream and struggle like many before you but you would not befall their fates. He would take care of you. This he promised.

"... I love you." You do not respond in your sleeping state simply shifting and humming as you dream but he doesn't mind. He didn't need you too for the words to be any more or less true.

[rainbowsprinkledpirate]

Soldier Of My Past

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Male!Reader

Summary: You were captured by the Germans. For weeks they experimented on James, you, and a few of your comrades in some protected facility. The rest were used for who knows what. Luckily someone arrives and throws the factory into shambles. But you... You're left behind.

Chapter I: To Be With Them

Why is this happening?

We shouldn't be here. None of us.

Screams echoed down the hall, borrowing into my ears.

I bit down on the mouth guard that had been shoved into my mouth. My teeth aching with the pressure.

What had seemed like mere seconds ago, we were fighting. Trying to defend a place known as Azzano.

An explosion had gone off in front of me, spraying dirt into my eyes and making my ears ring. Next to the ringing was a sudden bout of dizziness which brought me to my knees.

That's when I blacked out. And woke up here.

In Hell.

Tears streamed down my cheeks as I strained against the straps that kept my arms firmly against the chair. It was actually attached to some weird chamber they used to put me to sleep.

I hated it here, and I wanted this all to stop.

They were hurting my brothers in arms. And I couldn't do anything to stop them. Yet, it wasn't just them who were being hurt.

James was also here. He was being hurt too.

Sweet James, who had a love for dancing and blueberry pie.

His screams were the worst to hear. Something that would surely haunt me for the rest of my life.

I didn't know what they were doing to him or any of the others. And instead of it lasting for mere seconds, it was lasting for days. If they were going through what I was, it hurt like hell.

I stiffened when the door to my "room" clanked open. And that man stepped in.

No, he wasn't a man.

He was a monster. A monster with the face of a man.

It was hard to keep my thoughts in check when I was trying to ignore the pain.

And fear.

This wasn't like what I was faced with the thought of war. When James said we'll be fine. Or even actually fighting in the war. This was something else.

An instinct trying to keep me from falling apart.

"Now, now soldier. You need to keep your heartbeat way below what it is now."

At his words, my heart stuttered. His presence certainly wasn't helping me. Especially since I knew what pain he brought with him.

This... This Doctor. I didn't know his name. I just knew he was a doctor of some kind. Perhaps the worst kind.

Alarms started blaring, and I perked up. The Doctor stiffened.

His eyes snapped towards the door as he cursed angrily in German. Storming towards his desk in the far left of the room, he began shoving papers into a bag before glancing back at me.

"What a shame... I have to leave such an experiment behind. Just when I was about to surpass Doctor Zola." He tsked before patting his bag filled with papers. "Luckily, you've saved me a great deal of time with research for the future."

His coat fluttered as he slipped out the door he had come through. I stared after him before fighting against the straps holding me down.

With the mouth guard in, I wouldn't be able to call for help. Scuffling from down the hall had me going still. Then the face of a short fat man appeared at the door. He hesitated when his eyes locked with mine.

"Fascinating, he actually left you behind. Well, you might be useful to me later on." He swept into the room, swiftly pressing buttons that were located to my right. "Sleep, for now, soldat." At his words, I began to struggle anew.

Not again. I didn't want to be put to sleep again. If I did, I wouldn't wake up. This time I knew.

The chamber I was placed in began to close around me. I screamed helplessly from behind the mouth guard as fresh tears worked their way out of my eyes. They seared a path down my cheeks as the chamber locked into place with a familiar clank before a dose of chloroform filled the space I was trapped in.

I could only hold my breath for so long before taking in a gasping breath of the chloroform. The room outside the small window of my chamber began to blur.

My stomach rolled. And I closed my eyes.

The only hope I had was that James was saved, at least. Whoever had come wreaking havoc was going down in history. If I were to survive this, I would truly like to know who they are.

But honestly, I just want to see those two again. To be with them is all I want when I get out of here. Then we can go ride the Cyclone again. And maybe Steve wouldn't throw up this time. But this gut-wrenching uneasiness is telling me that, that won't be happening.

- XX Days Later -

I have to pretend. It's the only way I'll survive now.

I figured that out long ago. When Doctor Zola ordered for me to be retrieved.

All I can recall from that day is the agony of waking up after so long. Then even more agony as they scrambled my brain. Or at least tried to a few times.

Doctor Zola figured out that my brain wasn't strong enough to take too many scrambles, so he ended up putting me to the side. To be occasionally experimented on.

This didn't mean he wasn't able to make me into a good asset. All it took was him threatening to tell Red Skull and I was whipped.

There was no way I could pretend in front of that man.

Staring out of the train's window that Doctor Zola had ordered me onto, I sighed. There was no way to tell how long I had been away from home. And those two.

All I wanted was to be with them again.

"Soldat, come here."

At his command, I moved away from the frost-covered window. Through the swirls of snow, something was coming. But I wouldn't be able to recognize what until it was too late.

The beady rat eyes of Zola burned into me as he slowly smiled. My teeth sank into my bottom lip as I saluted and awaited his commands. I just want to be with them. But I'm still stuck here, in Hell.

Next Chapter -> Here

Here <- Previous Chapter

Bucky Barnes Masterlist

[avenging-fandoms]

hear me out.... spencer taking you to his officr to cuff you to his chair or whatevs because you kept interrupting him when he was talking. he'd also threaten to leave you there too.

“yn, please, just let me finish my thought” spencer placed his hand on top of yours and you nodded, crossing your legs. spencer continued to speak to his friends, and you rolled your lips in between your teeth.

“spencer i just think-” spencer huffed and everyone around you two fell silent. you snapped your jaw shut when you saw spencer's jaw clench. "i'm sorry"

"well, i think it's time for us to.. go and work on that case. spencer, why don't you meet us there with yn?" penelope tried to smooth out the tension, but there was no use. everyone scattered out the door.

emily locked eyes with yours before she shut the door behind her, and you grew nervous as the silence grew louder. "look at me" spencer raised his voice and you obeyed, looking up at him. "how many times did i tell you to let me finish my sentence?"

"more than once" you mumbled and he stood in front of you, your eyes in contact with the button on his pants. "i'm sorry, doctor. i just-"

"no, no excuse. no trying to get yourself out of this one you had a lot of warnings, and you ignored each one. come with me" you stood up and spencer took you to his home office, and pointed to the chair without a word.

you sat down with your hands in your lap, and spencer circled around you with his finger dragging up your arm, over your shoulders and down your other arm. he took your hand out of your lap, handcuffing it to the arm of the chair. "spencer?"

spencer didn't look at you, but handcuffed the other hand. he stood back and looked at you before leaving the room for a minute, coming back with your vibrator wand.

spencer pulled down your short, taking them off your legs. he flicked on the vibrator. "lift your hips" you did as he told you, and you felt the chair vibrating on your arms. "sit" you whimper as the vibrator pressed against your clit.

"doctor, p..please i'm sorry. i won't interrupt you again" you moan and tug the handcuffs, and spencer just stood with his hands in his pockets.

"10 minutes. then i'll come back" spencer declared and your expression softened, clanking the handcuffs against the arms of the desk chair. "knock it off, or i'll leave you here while i go work on the case. who knows how long that will be too. and you are allowed to cum, but i want you to remember why you're being punished" spencer's voice was quiet, but just enough to let you know who ran things around here.

orgasm after orgasm, you were nearly crying. spencer sat in the chair you usually sit in while he works, reading his book and mindlessly flipping through the pages as you basically screamed his name after you came.

exactly 10 minutes had passed and he closed his book, standing up and turning off the vibrator. you took big breaths, sweat running down the side of your face with your legs covered with your juices, spencer's chair soaked with your cum.

"i heard 8 orgasms, do you feel good?" spencer fell to his knees in front of you, pushing your legs over your arms and smiling. "god, look at you. your underwear is soaked, and my chair. naughty girl" he tsked and pulled your underwear off your body, licking your inner thighs and around your pussy, cleaning you up. "you taste so good after you've been punished"

you inhaled sharply as his tongue dragged up your swollen clit, your fingers trembling and arms tugging with the handcuffs. "i'm sorry, doctor, i won't interrupt you again. i'm sorry" you apologized over and over, spencer smiling as he kissed your thighs and pelvic bone softly.

spencer pulled away, taking your legs down and kissing your lips softly. "apology accepted. now, are you ready to come to work with me, without interrupting me?" you nodded and he unlocked your wrists, and you immediately held his face and kissed him.

"i love you, spencer. so much" you mumbled against his mouth and you stood up, falling into his body, the both of you laughing. "uhm.. give me a couple minutes, please?"

"i'll go get you some water. do you want me to start a shower?" you nodded and he smiled, kissing you against before he disappeared into the kitchen.

[bestiesenpai]

Adventures in babysitting - Nanami Kento

Everyone say it with me now: Fucking! The! Babysitter! Femme reader, 3K words

Content warnings: noncon that turns dubcon, cheating, age gap(imagine nanami to be mid forties, 45 preferably), uhm there’s fingers in your mouth in case you’re not into that lol

Nanami was at his wits end with you. One day after another you continued to test his patience and you didn’t even know it. It was becoming so hard to even look you in the eyes let alone be in the same room as you.

Having feelings for the babysitter wasn’t something he should have, he knew this, but at this age Nanami wasn’t one to deny himself the things he truly so desired. The way you pranced around in shorts much too short to be worn around his family, your silly little summer tops bustling in the wind and exposing your midriff, even the way you ate ice cream could be deemed inappropriate.

“Papa, (Y/N)’s here!” His young son shouted one sweltering summer afternoon, breaking Nanami from his daydream of you and bringing him into the present where you were being escorted into his house by his wife.

Standing there in a pair of those little shorts and a tank top that showed a cleavage, skin probably smelling of freshly applied sunscreen and hot to the touch from the sun, it made Nanami’s pants tighten. Coming to stand next to the woman he married, his eyes were still drawn to you.

The words you were saying went in one ear and out the other. You might as well have been speaking another language, Nanami wasn’t following along at all. He was busy tracing the outline of your body, unsullied by the hands of time like he was.

“Bye mama!” Hugging his mother tightly, Nanami’s son pounced on him next. “Bye papa!”

“Have fun you two!” Nanami’s wife spoke for the both of them as you walked off, back to your car with his child.

Hours passed and Nanami still found himself thinking of you, even as he and his wife had sex in your absence. Cupping her ass, he thought of what it would feel like to slip his hands down your shorts and feel yours. As he kissed her, he closed his eyes and pretended it was your mouth his tongue was in. Pulling out and cumming on her cunt, he only wished it was you beneath him, then he would never pull out.

“We’re back!” When you made your return as the sun set, Nanami found it so convenient that his wife had gone down the street to talk to a neighbor.

“Mama’s across the street with the neighbor girl, why don’t you go say hi to them? Tell them all about the movie you saw?” Nanami asked while you had excused yourself to the bathroom.

Turning around and fixing his collar, Nanami smirked as the screen door slammed closed. Walking straight to the guest bathroom, there was no hesitation in his stride, throwing open the door with confidence.

“S-sir!” You’d clearly just finished using the toilet, yanking your shorts back up over your hips as the toilet lid slammed closed. Nanami didn’t say a word as he stepped into the bathroom and closed the door, clicking the lock into place.

“Did you have fun today? At the movies with my son.” His voice was low, calm and cool despite the nerves tingling just under his skin.

“Yes.” Answering him slowly, your hands splayed out to try and cover your front. For some reason, you couldn’t find it in you to do up the button on your shorts, but you still had half a mind to try and appear decent.

“I bet you got a lot of stares.” That statement had your head tilting in confusion and Nanami chuckled. “A sweet young girl like you is sure to attract attention. Why, I bet people thought he was your little brother and not my kid.”

“E-excuse me sir, but-” Surely this conversation could be had outside the bathroom, and you tried to reach around Nanami to open the door.

“I’m not finished.” Snatching you by the waist, Nanami pressed you against the sink counter and stared at you through the mirror, letting his eyes rake more obviously over your figure. “Yes, I know for sure you got stares.”

“Sir!” Gripping the edge of the counter, you were helpless to stop Nanami as he ground his hardening cock over your ass, his fingers making it harder to breath as they trickled up to clutch at your ribs.

Pressing his nose into the side of your neck, Nanami closed his eyes and took a long, deep breath. You smelled exactly like the sunscreen he thought you would and the heat from the summer sun still lingered on your body, warming his lips as he kissed you.

“Please let go, this isn’t- isn’t appropriate.” Wriggling in his hold, you clawed at his fingers to let you go. Despite the wear and tear years of fighting curses had brought onto his body, Nanami was still just as strong as when he was younger.

“What would a girl like you know about what’s appropriate? Prancing around my house in those shorts with your ass hanging out.” Wrapping one arm completely around your waist, Nanami snuck his other hand down your shorts, pushing the loose fabric down until it pooled at your ankles and he was able to grab onto your ass.

Keeping his eyes closed, Nanami rubbed and grabbed your ass to his heart’s content. He often stayed up at night agonizing about you and now he was finally getting what he wanted. Pushing your panties down your legs as well, his middle finger dipped between the curve of your ass and grazed your slit.

“Let me go!” Your voice had risen to a scream, desperately hopeful someone else was in the house and would hear your cries. Nanami let silence fall over the two of you, his middle finger lazily circling your cunt and making your thighs twitch against your will.

“Scream and shout all you want, it’s just me and you here.” Opening his eyes to look at you, Nanami sighs when he sees the tears streaming down your face. “Why’re you crying?”

“I don’t- this, please-”

“Sshhh…” Silencing your babbles, Nanami brought his hand to the front of your body, middle finger pressing firmly on your clit. “I know what you need, so just relax and be a good girl.” Flicking his finger, he smirked as you gasped loudly, one hand flying from the counter to grip onto his shirt sleeve.

Locked in a stare, Nanami watched your mouth hang open in shock as he massaged your clit, bringing in two more fingers and making bigger circles. There was slick building between your legs, gradually making his fingers glide easier over your swollen bud. Nudging your legs open a little further, Nanami slid his fingers down to your entrance.

“I’ll go slow for you.” He whispered gently into your ear. Prodding with one finger, he worked the long digit into your cunt, groaning at the way your walls clamped down tightly around it.

Keeping his thumb on your clit, Nanami pumped his finger in and out, kissing up and down your neck as he went. Slowly, your open mouth closed and your lip was caught between your teeth to keep small whimpers of pleasure at bay.

Adding in a second finger, Nanami had you fully rocking back and forth on his fingers, an orgasm that you didn’t want beginning to build between your legs. The slow, gradual pleasure that had built up was blurring the lines of what was right and what was wrong, the fact that this man was your married boss didn’t really matter any more.

Grinding onto his hand, you came with an embarrassed yelp and squeezed Nanami’s hand tightly with your legs. His thumb moved faster as your walls spasmed around his fingers, wanting - and getting - you to whine and moan loudly.

“Sir!” Stamping your feet as the pleasure reached a near painful peak, you forced your legs to relax and let Nanami go. Slipping his fingers out of your cunt, he circled your clit a few times before pulling away.

Grabbing your head with his clean hand, Nanami turned you to kiss him over your shoulder. The angle was awkward and a bit of a strain, but Nanami slid his tongue into your mouth with ease, quickly tracing along your mouth and committing it to memory.

The clanking of his belt buckle brought you back to what was happening outside of the dizzying kiss. The warmth from Nanami’s hard cock was no longer trapped behind a layer of fabric, it was right against your skin and nuzzling between your ass cheeks.

Breaking the kiss, you looked down at his cock. Just like the hair on his head, the trim patch of hair above his cock was starting to gray with a few streaks running alongside blond. Taking your hand from his sleeve, Nanami wrapped your fingers around his cock.

“Look what you’ve done to this old man.” He chuckled, moving your fingers up and down his shaft. A few beads of precum dripped out, coating the outside of your hand and leaving shiny strands of gossamer fluid connecting you to him.

Letting go of your hand to kiss you again, Namai was pleased that you kept stroking him on your own. You were even daring enough to smear more of his precum against the palm of your hand and use it for added lubrication. Going down to his balls, the feather light touches you gave them with the tips of your fingers made a short high pitched moan leave Nanami’s throat.

“Enough playing.” Grunting to cover up the unexpected noise, Nanami turned you back to face the sink and smoothed his hand down your back, pushing you to bend over the sink. Grabbing the base of his cock, Nanami guided himself into your cunt, shuddering deeply at the warmth enveloping him.

Putting his chest flush with your back, Nanami rested his forehead against your shoulder and caught his breath. Fucking you was something that was on his mind constantly, especially when he had sex with his wife. To finally feel the tight velvety walls of your cunt clamp down around his cock, it almost made him cum.

“Ha, not as young as I used to be.” A bittersweet sigh left his lips as he regained his self control and stood up a little straighter. Pushing his once perfectly styled hair out of his eyes, Nanami snaked a hand up your shirt and tugged your bra down enough to cup your breast and mold the flesh between his fingertips. “How do you feel?”

“Sir I-”

“Say my name.” Nanami cut you off swiftly, rolling your nipple in his fingers as he did. “Call me Kento when we’re alone.” Swallowing around the lump in your throat, you nodded and looked him in the eyes through the mirror.

“K-kento…” You say his name slowly, letting it roll and drip down the tip of your tongue, “I feel so full.” Your answer makes Nanami's head fall back, a wave of pride stroking his ego and bolstering his confidence.

It wasn’t like him to lack any in his day to day life, going about his business and doing what he had to do. But over the years, with an aging and changing body, Nanami had begun to wonder deep down inside if he was becoming less of the man he used to be in his 20’s.

“That’s what I love to hear.” But you’d brought it back for him tenfold. You, the babysitter that he shouldn’t be doing any of this with yet fantasized about every day. Giving an appreciative roll of his hips, Nanami smiled at you.

“Now, let me take care of you.” Hunching over your body once more, Nanami pulled his cock out slowly, teasing you with the leisurely drag of his cock before snapping his hips forward and making the first of many loud moans fall from your lips.

Massaging your breast in time with his thrusts, Nanami made sure your ass stayed flush with him as he fucked you. He wanted to drag this out for as long as possible and that meant shallowly humping your cunt like a pathetic teenager.

His lips never strayed far from your neck and he kissed down your back as well, careful not to leave any marks you’d have a hard time explaining to his wife. Instead of leaving the marks of his teeth he left large wet kisses all along your exposed skin.

“Kento, faster!” You sobbed, growing increasingly impatient for him to move. While the lazy thrusts had your legs trembling they weren’t enough to get you to cum.

“So cute when you whine.” Nanami hummed and he could feel himself getting wrapped around your finger. He didn’t have the heart to even think of denying you what you wanted and he stood up, giving you more room to breathe, but only for a moment.

Dropping both hands to your hips, Nanami properly thrust forward and the slap of your ass against his skin could be heard well outside the bathroom. A hunger to have you cum on his cock washed over him and his fingers dropped down to your clit once again.

“Fuck, Kento-” You cried, knees threatening to buckle and give out on you from the sudden pleasure. Wrapping an arm around your hips, Nanami kept you upright as he pounded into you.

Nanami could feel his own orgasm approaching quickly the longer he went. The slick gushing out of you was making it far too easy to pump you full of his cock, your essence dripping down his balls and coating his thighs.

“Papa?” The sudden curious voice of his son had Nanami stuttering to a halt and both your pounding hearts beat even harder. Falling completely silent, you waited for a knock at the door or any other indication the child had heard you two.

Pattering little feet against hardwood were the only things heard in the house, muffled only slightly by your heavy breathing. Listening intently, the footsteps drifted away from the lounge room and up the stairs.

“Keep quiet for me.” Nanami whispered as he began to pump his cock again, this time going as slow as he was before. He kept his fingers on your clit and rubbed tight circles, exhaling sharply through his nose as you whined.

Slapping a hand over your mouth as his son's feet thumped against the stairs once more, Nanami’s brows shot up when you opened your mouth and took his fingers in, flattening them against the curve of your tongue and sucking on them.

Nanami wanted to snarl at the seductive look you cast him in the mirror, your lips wrapped tightly around his fingers and your head slightly bobbing up and down as if it were his cock you were sucking.

When the sound of the front door slamming closed again met his ears, Nanami resumed the vigorous pace he had set previously. Keeping his fingers in your mouth, he snapped his hips forward and pushed the worries of cumming too early to the side.

“Be good and cum for me, naughty girl.” Gliding his fingers along your tongue, Nanami pried your mouth open and grabbed the tip of your tongue, pulling it out from your mouth and making drool drip down your chin. “Messy little thing, aren’t you?” Letting go of your tongue, he smeared your saliva all over your cheeks.

Pushing your ass back against Nanami, your moans reached a crashing crescendo and your knees knocked together. Nanami rubbed your clit furiously as you came, not stopping his thrusts until he was cumming deep inside you and filling you up with the hot, sticky fluid.

“Kento, Kento-” You cried, gripping the counter for dear life. It was a struggle to stay upright and even more of one to remember to breathe properly as your orgasm washed over you. Nanami hadn’t made it any easier, fucking the both of you into overstimulation.

“Good girl, what a good girl for me.” His voice was long gone, wispy and distant as he came down from his high. Keeping his cock snugly inside you he took his fingers off your clit, giving you some reprieve. Bringing them up to his mouth, he sucked on them loudly and licked all of your release off.

Your upper body collapsed against the counter, chest heaving painfully as you struggled for breath. Nanami kept your hips up as he pulled out, spreading your asscheeks apart to watch his seed begin to drip out of you. Letting out a low whistle, he thumbed your clit one last time before leaning over and grabbing some toilet paper, gingerly cleaning you up as you came down.

Once everything was back in order, your clothes fixed and lips thoroughly kissed just one last time, Nanami slowly opened the door. He hadn’t heard the front door open, the voices of his family weren’t resounding through the house. The coast was clear.

“Here’s payment for today.” Just as promised when you planned this outing with his child, Nanami handed you an envelope with your money inside.

“Thank you, sir.” You said quietly, quickly backtracking when Nanami quirked a brow at you. “I mean Kento.”

“That’s better.” Patting you on the back, Nanami pressed a sneaky kiss to your forehead before stepping back and opening the front door for you. “I hope you know this wasn’t a one time thing.”

Unable to answer, you giggle and smile shyly back at him. The gentle smile on his face has a certain flutter coming to your stomach; Nanami has given you special attention, one that you know for sure he isn’t giving to anyone else.

“Get home safe, (Y/N).” He says softly, giving a curt wave of his hand as you walked out of the house and to your car, your panties safely tucked inside his front pocket.

[scribicronus-v02]

Amphibia: Baby You’re My Spark

Tag list: @karamelys, @popcornbee, @borkthemork, @themissakat, @cute-as-buttons, @maritasdump, @the-chaotic-lesbian, @antiableists-marcywu, @cynthiacoven, @slymanner, @space-lynn, @camomile-t, @calamity-unlocked-main, @detentiontrack, @milliegraveyard, @skibs-scribbles, @mira-blue, @pyroclastic727, @eeveearoace, @goodartitude, @yourpersonaltimebomb

I remember I had a crippling case of Writer’s Block (still fighting it. I hate me sometimes. Well, a lot of the time) shortly after New Year’s, and in an attempt to force myself to write, I listened to “I Saw Love” on constant loop after hearing it in an Air Canada commercial that kept showing up.

I remember being on the fence regarding how this turned out but I think I remember people liking it for the most part.

Without further ado...

Baby You're My Spark

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Through the red slightly obscuring her vision, through the sparks temporarily blinding her as pain coursed through her feet, up her legs and through the rest of her body, she saw the armored figure several feet before her falter on its feet before toppling backwards.

She wasted no time. Her sword fell from her mechanical hand as she sprinted towards the falling figure. Her breath, already ragged and burning in her throat, came out in quick bursts. Her vision was further obscured by the wet distortion of tears, the soreness of her limbs and chest and the pain of the wounds she bore were amplified by the extra strain she put her body through to reach the person before her.

A flash of blue blanketed everything for the briefest of seconds, and she found herself suddenly right behind and to the left of the armored figure she was running towards, still in the process of falling and a foot away from its back hitting the steel floor. She quickly dropped to her knees with her arms outstretched before her, catching the armored figure.

The horned helm, cracked and shattered beyond repair, fell from its head, the multitude of glowing orange eyes on its face plate staying open but fading to a dull, dead gray as it hit the floor with a resounding clank revealing wavy shoulder-length black hair. The largest parts of the armored carapace cracked and crumbled away from the arms and legs.

Anne looked down at the exhausted, unconscious face before her. Geometric patterns were pressed red around the girl's forehead and temples, blood was very slowly seeping out of the corner of her mouth. Anne brushed a matted lock of the girl's hair from the clammy skin of her forehead.

“Marcy...” she whispered, more as an affirmation to herself than anything else. A drop of blood fell from Anne's jawline to drip on Marcy's cheek. The unconscious girl in her arms stirred and groaned before slowly opening her eyes.

“Marcy...?”

The pecan-brown eyes slowly focused and looked up at her.

“Anne...?”

“Is that really you?” Their voices, hoarse and desperate, intertwined around them, and Anne felt her heart lift.

“Is it...?” she cut in before the girl in her arms could say anything else.

“It's...it's really you, Annie,” Marcy said, weakly reaching up to cup Anne's cheek with a hand. “You're bleeding.”

Anne huffed once in an incredulous laugh. “It doesn't matter,” she said, leaning over the girl and hugging her tightly.

“Is it...is it over?” Marcy asked, a quaver evident in her voice.

Anne nodded desperately, still embracing Marcy. “It's over, Marce, it's really over. Andrias is...he's gone. We can go home.” Her grip tightened. “We can...” She sniffled as the weight of everything that happened since her thirteenth birthday came crashing down on her once again. “We can...we can finally go home, Marcy. You, me, Sasha, we can go home.” She held Marcy at arm's length and before Marcy could ask what was wrong, Anne cupped Marcy's cheek with her flesh-and-blood hand and kissed Marcy deeply.

The other girl squeaked in surprise but didn't pull away. Rather, she melted into Anne's embrace and kiss, the sensation seeming to jump-start a heart that she thought stopped beating a long time ago. She cupped Anne's cheek in her hand again, feeling drying, sticky blood on her palm and fingers but she didn't care. She returned the kiss with equal need, feeling as if she was drawing vitality and strength from Anne's lips on hers.

After what felt like an eternity, breath became a requirement, and they slowly broke the kiss. A blush dusted Anne's cheeks, a timid laugh coming out as a stuttered, incredulous breath.

“Can...can you walk?” Anne asked bashfully.

“I...” Marcy tried to get up but her legs felt like jelly. “I...I can't.”

Anne's blush grew brighter and she smiled shyly. “It's...its okay, Mar-Mar.” In one fluid motion, she rose to her feet and immediately held Marcy in her arms bridal-style. She looked down to see Marcy blushing as brightly as she was.

“Are...are you sure?”

Anne nodded, a weary smile on her face. “Uh-huh. Let's go home.”

[dreamingofbucky]

Insubordinate | Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader

✧･ﾟ: *✧ *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

summary || based on the tik tok by avengerwzrs where Steve sees you drunk and disobedient and he needs to teach you a lesson.

word count: 4.3k

Warnings/Tags: 18+ minors DNI. Dub-con (drinking), fingering, oral (female receiving).

The champagne flute, moments ago full of riesling wine, was nearly empty. The condensation on the glass slowly trickles down the frame and pools down the stem, into your fingers.

The sounds of the party around you, break your thoughts, causing you to turn around in your seat and study the place. For good reason, this party was for you.

Your best friend Natasha and your boyfriend, Steve, planned it all out. You’d arrive at your private birthday dinner at a nice, fancy Italian restaurant in the city before joining everyone else at one of the many houses Tony Stark owned.

Now, here you were, your belly full of pasta and champagne. You started drinking more the moment you stepped foot in the house and was greeted by Natasha shoving a shot glass into your hands. Too eager for the night to start, you downed it and ran off with your best friend leaving Steve to go and mingle with his friends.

Within the first two hours of the night, Natasha had poured more shots than you could count and you downed more shots than you thought ever possible for your small frame. Out of the corner of your eye you could sense Steve watching, his eyes lingering on your frame as you kept taking one shot after the other. His protective nature always lingered when he was around you.

It wasn’t long until you mingled with the rest of the crowd which included Thor, Loki, Bruce, Wanda, Sam, Bucky, Maria, Clint, and the host himself Tony. Of course, there were other people at the party to fill in the space of the huge house, but you didn’t know most of them. You didn’t care, you just wanted to be with your best friend and boyfriend tonight.

“Y/N, please finish that wine, it’s literally melting in your hand.” Natasha pipes up next to you, coming from who knows where and plopping down on the seat next to you.

Although you drank more than you ever have in your life, you’re still borderline drunk and pretty cohesive with words. You could see Natasha clearly, but deep down you knew your body was slowly swaying from side to side due to the alcohol.

“Only if you finish yours,” you challenge back, raising your glass towards Natasha’s mint julep. She raises her eyebrows and nods, clanking her glass with yours and both of you downing the remaining liquor within seconds.

Laughter breaks the silence after you both finish the drinks and your head turns towards the noise. Steve is laughing with Maria and Thor, clearly enamored by whatever joke was said. You smile sheepishly, happy that he’s happy. There’s also something else making you smile.

The way Steve is standing, you can see the muscles in his button down shirt popping through and the tightness of his pants barely holding onto his thighs. He was a sight to see… and all you wanted to do was push him down onto the couch and-

“I asked you a question!” Natasha’s voice breaks your dirty fantasy and you feel the heat creep up your cheeks and neck. She eyes you suspiciously before repeating herself, something about plans next week that you nod and agree to.

Your head turns back towards Steve and you feel Natasha’s gaze follow, her hand slapping your bare shoulder in a friendly manner. You turn towards her and she immediately smiles.

“You’re such a teenage girl around Steve, I love it,” She teases as she finds her eyes back to Steve and you follow. In that instant it’s like his super hearing picked up on those words and he turns slowly, catching your gaze.

He gives you a wink before returning to his conversation. You feel the instant flood of butterflies in your stomach and in between your legs. You needed him, now. But the party was still going on and it would be obvious if you went and dragged Steve by the arm to some bedroom and left the party.

You had to have a plan. Maybe if you spilled a drink on him it would force him to leave the party to go clean up and you can run off and find him… You were silently racking your brain for a plan when you find Natasha has left and come back with another shot. You turn your attention away from Steve and the group he’s with and focus on Natasha, your vision slowly doubling everything as the alcohol makes its way through your veins.

“Come on birthday girl, you only turn 28 once!” Natasha smirks, passing you the shot in her hand and squealing incessantly.

You push yourself off the barstool you’re sitting on and find your balance on your black heels. The baby pink satin dress you’re wearing slides around your figure as you get off the seat. It’s elongated to show off your curves and has a slit down your right thigh, creating an illusion of longer legs.

Minutes later, Natasha looks out to the living room of the mansion and finds Tony sitting with Wanda, Sam, and Steve. She takes your arm and drags you through the crowd, whispering quick apologies to anyone we drunkenly bump into as we beeline for the table. You can feel the heat rush to your body as she pulls me along, your eyes trying to keep up with the speed and motion we’re going at.

“Nat-” You grunt, attempting to pull yourself away from her grip and take a breather outside. In the process of doing so, you bump into someone taller than you in a dark blue Tom Ford suit. You curse yourself and look up at Tony, seeing that you spilled half his drink when you collided into him. He’s the only one standing as Steve, Wanda, and Sam watch the scene unfold.

“Sorry, Tony,” You quickly say as you try to keep your balance on your heels. It seems like they got more wobbly after leaving the makeshift bar.

“Are you drunk, Y/N?” Tony chides, a smug look on his face as he peers down at you, his eyes growing darker by the second.

He takes you in and your eyes widen, wishing you never bumped into him. He is the host after all; you’ve only spoken with Tony a couple of times so you didn’t know him as well as Natasha and Steve did. They always told you how fun Tony used to be before he had Morgan. You guess this was one of those nights where he was more like a parent than the usually spontaneous Tony Stark.

Natasha blows out a heavy sigh as she sits down next to Sam and Steve eyes you up and down. But it’s not the kind of eyes that scream I want to fuck you in that dress. It’s more of a Don’t make a fool in front of Tony tonight, he offered his place for us to use look.

And in that moment, all of your thoughts concluded to one. Steve’s disappointed look hatched an evil plan in your head that you needed to put into action.

In reality, Steve was loving every minute of this. He enjoyed your defiance and enjoyed what came after even more. He loved knowing that you could push his buttons in a seductive way that only made him want you more. He was ready to see what you’d do to Tony. He was ready to punish you in every way that he knew you were practically begging for.

You rub the apologetic frown off your face and swap it with a smug smile. You step up closely to Tony, inches away from the Iron Man himself and you tilt your nose up at him.

“I don’t know, mom, am I?” You smugly spit out. The alcohol in your veins is giving you the confidence to stand your ground even after the table around you and Tony grows silent. Your heart is beating overtime and you’re not sure whether it’s because of the alcohol or the fear of what Tony would do.

Your eyes glance towards Natasha and she shakes her head and fights back a laugh. Meanwhile, Wanda has a worried look on her face as if she just witnessed something awful. You try to keep up the facade and roll your eyes, not daring to see Steve’s reaction. The aching in between your core was already letting you know that if you didn’t continue soon, you were going to go crazy.

“Excuse me?” Tony asks, his brows furrowing and rising in frustration. In his head, he felt like you were just another Morgan to scold. Although the age difference was by decades, he still felt like you were acting like a toddler with this comeback and clumsiness.

Your eyes widen as you see his glare piercing through your body. You finally take the time to peak your eyes at Steve and he’s watching diligently. As if daring you to say what he thinks you’re going to say. So you do.

You lean down towards the table and see a bottle of Don Julio 1942 waiting for your grasp. You take the handle and pour a shot into one of the empty shot glasses next to it and turn back to Tony.

“I need another one,” You reply hastily, making eye contact with Tony.

“Hey, Y/N.” Steve’s voice cuts through the small silence within the table and you turn your head towards him, shocked he spoke up.

You could see his eyes looking at you up and down as you bite your lip and bat your lashes, attempting to downplay your wicked plan. He doesn’t buy it though, at least that’s what you think, as you smirk and raise the glass to your lips. His ocean blue eyes squint, his eyebrows furrow in frustration, and he shakes his head while maintaining eye contact with you, hoping you can catch that he wants you to quit your game.

But to Steve, he loves seeing this side of you. The way you think you hold the cards, when in actuality you’re just a spawn. He’s the one that in the end always wins. The one who yells “checkmate”.

You look back at Tony and see his jaw twitch in annoyance as he watches you take the shot back in one go. The alcohol seeps down your throat and lights a fire in you; you feel on top of the world.

Suddenly, Tony’s nostrils flare and he steps forward, closing the inches between us. The silence is deafening, it’s as if the rest of the crowd at the party is blocked out from your hearing. You can hear the breathing of everyone around you, especially Tony’s.

His chest moves up and down as he glares at you through dark eyes and that’s when you see a shift in movement to your left. Steve. You let a smirk fall onto your lips as you watched everything unravel.

Tony is lifting his arm as if to scold you with his finger, probably what he does to his daughter, while Steve gets up from his chair and makes his way to you in big strides. His gait towards you is strong and authoritative.

“Shit-” you muster out before getting your arm grabbed by Steve right before Tony can lay his pointer finger to your chest. You’re being pulled in a dominant manner by Steve and your heart is racing relentlessly as is the heartbeat between your legs. You can hear Natasha laughing in the distance and Wanda eyeing you with worry in her eyes. If only she knew.

Finally, you think to yourself. Steve finally figured your game out. He took the bait and he was going to give you what you wanted all night.

He pulls you down a hallway past the living room where the noise from the party has subsided, causing you to just hear both of your footsteps. Your knees are wobbly from the drinking and the heels, but you don’t care.

“Steve,” You pout, trying to get out of his grasp. His fingers grow tighter on your arm, but not enough to really hurt you.

As if annoyed, Steve stops in his tracks in the dark hallway and turns around, pushing your body against the wall. You wince as your back hits the wall and you hold your breath as Steve moves closer to you.

“Y/N, are you trying to be punished like a bad girl?” His voice is deep and dark, his blue eyes flickering down your body, making known what the ideas in his mind are.

You smirk and bite your lip, and let him continue to press his body against you. Your breathing increases as you struggle to intake air. You can smell his cologne and it makes you want more.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Steve.” You slyly reply. He leans in and brushes his left hand down your torso, along the seams of the satin dress, until it hits the slit on your thigh. You inhale a sharp breath as his touch lingers there.

“You know exactly what I’m talking about. Don’t worry, I caught on very fast. This isn’t your game we’re playing. I have my own rules,” He fires back, lust filling his eyes as he looks at you. The fingers that are placed on your thigh begin to move slowly in up and down motions, causing your skin to prickle in goosebumps. Anticipation.

“Steve-” You attempt to whine out, but your words are interrupted by his lips crashing down on yours. Your breath hitches as you take it in. His kiss is hard and demanding, leaving no room for second guessing.

His hand’s grip grows stronger on your thigh and you throw your arms around his neck, attempting to pull him closer and continue the kissing.

The pressure of his body against yours and the intensity of his lips pushing yours open and his tongue swiping along yours is all too much. You let out a quiet moan, hoping no one walks near the hallway to witness how much of a puddle you are in Steve’s grasp.

“Good girl,” Steve breathes out as he releases his lips off you and leans towards your neck, nibbling softly at the skin. His dominant nature is mixed with softness that is driving your body crazy, begging for more.

Another moan escapes your lips as his teeth bite the skin of your neck and you can’t help but let out a little yelp.

“Y/N, I’m going to need you to be quiet if you want me to continue your punishment.”

You silently nod, not daring to make another squeak. Steve takes this obedience as a good sign to hoist your legs up on his waist, wrapping your legs around his torso. His lips are still at your neck and you lean into him.

“Please,” You beg in a soft whine.

“Please what? Use your words, Y/N.” Steve replies, as his left hand reaches further past the slit on your thigh and is now placed in the inner thigh region. Suddenly, you can feel just how wet you are. He hasn’t even touched you there yet and you’re a sopping mess.

“I-I need you to fuck me already,” You muster out in hollowed breaths.

Steve smirks, knowing he has you wrapped around his finger. Literally.

“As you wish,” He responds, pushing you both off the wall and heading towards a random room in the hallway.

It’s a bedroom with white walls and wood accents in both the flooring and furniture. The bed is king size with creme colored sheets. Steve shuts the door with his feet as he continues into the room, carrying you on his waist still.

“You’ve been such a disobedient girl tonight. I know you were doing it for attention,” Steve teases as he nears the bed and leans over, laying you gently. The constant switch from dominant words to soft words, then dominant touches to soft touches is confusing your mind into a frenzy.

“Need you to touch me-” You whisper as you watch from the bed, Steve beginning to undo the clasp on your heels and taking them off ever so slowly. Your breathing halts as he gets in front of you and leans over, causing you to fall flat on your back.

His eyes trace your body from your knees to your face. Your hips buckle involuntarily and he smirks.

“I’ll do more than that, don’t you worry,” He responds, his voice lower than before. His hands find the zipper of your dress on the left side of your body and he slowly pulls it down, inch by inch. The anticipation is ever worse than the actual act. The teasing is causing your legs to shake and the wetness inside you to continue pooling into your panties.

In a matter of seconds Steve has your satin dress on the ground, leaving you in a matching baby pink lace set. His eyes seem to go dark as he takes you in.

“Did you wear this just for me?” He asks and you nod your head quickly.

He leans over, brushing his lips against your neck again and travelling down your chest until his lips are met with the lace bra covering your nipple.

He pulls one of the lace cups down and begins to lick and bite your nipple, causing your hips to buck again and a moan to escape your lips. You bit back another pleasurable moan as he moved onto the next nipple.

Your hands move to his sides and you grasp the fabric of his button down shirt, pulling him closer to your body. Suddenly, he takes your small wrists into his big hands and pulls them to your side, locking you into that position. He doesn’t want you going anywhere.

“S-Steve-” You groan, wanting him to continue going down your body until his lips are met with your aching core.

“If you want your birthday present, you’re going to have to keep your mouth shut.” He demands, causing you to blush and nod.

“Yes , sir-” You squeak out, hoping those words would create a line of forgiveness and allow you to moan a little more. It seems to work as he looks up from your nipple, his lips forming a line of saliva from your nipple to his bottom lip; he looks pleased at your words; you can feel the tightness in his crotch grow against your knee.

He begins to travel his lips again, down your belly button, along the lines of your hips meeting your inner thigh, until finally his lips rest just above your other lips.

His hands release the hold on your wrists and you immediately put them on his head, knowing you’ll need to grasp his hair for stability soon.

He gently nuzzles his nose against the pink lace thong and hits the spot where your clit is underneath the fabric, causing your body to jolt up. He lets out a low chuckle before taking his fingers and moving the fabric to the side, letting him have access to your pussy.

“You’re so wet for me,” He moans, causing you to buck your hips again at his words. You just want him inside of you already, but he’s taking his sweet time.

He leans in again and spreads the lips with his fingers and lets his tongue glide in one long stripe against your folds. You let out a moan as he does it again, making your mind fill with ecstasy.

As his tongue continues to lick your folds, he gently takes a finger and enters it in you and you grasp his hair hard. His other hand reaches for your stomach and pushes it down, causing you to be stuck in this position, under his will. You can’t move although you really want to. You’re so used to being able to move along with Steve’s motions, but he really wants control now.

His finger begins to pump in and out of you as his tongue licks and slides against your folds and clit. Each time his tongue touches your clit, it’s like electric sparks.

“I think you need more fingers before I get my cock in you,” Steve retorts as he slips another thick digit into you and you whine at the pain and pleasure that are mixing inside of you. You know it’ll just be worse once he stretches you out and fills you with his length.

“Yes, sir-” You respond breathlessly and wince as he pumps in and out of you and puts another thick digit into your pussy without warning. Your hips attempt to buck up in pleasure but his other hand on your stomach prevents you from doing just that. You can hear the deviant laughter fall off his lips.

Your hold on his hair grows stronger as this game of fingering continues. It feels like hours pass but you know it’s only been a couple of minutes. Your wetness just continues to pour out of you until you feel the escalated climax reaching its point. With the intense licking of your clit and the finger fucking, you’re ready to come undone.

“I-I’m about to -” You whine out and Steve hushes you.

“I know baby, let it all out,” He demands and you do, letting your climax reach and allowing your body to crumble under his touch, your orgasm blacking out your vision from the pleasure.

Once Steve feels your orgasm is done, and he’s finished lapping up your juices, he lifts up from your body and licks his lips once more. He begins to unbutton his shirt and throw it on the ground, his body is thick in muscle and looks like it was sculpted by the gods themselves.

You bite your lip in arousal and see his smile grow as he strips down from his dress pants and takes off his black leather dress shoes. Suddenly, Steve is standing there in his dominant posture eyeing your half naked body with lustful eyes. You look immediately at the bulge in his boxers and he smirks once more, watching you watch him slowly take them off. His cock springs up from the motion and you can see the redness near the base and the precum on the tip. You lick your lips, ready for what’s to come.

He leans over the bed again and crawls up towards you, making sure there’s enough space so he doesn’t crush your body. He looks down at your lace bra and shakes his head, reaches under your shoulders and unclasps the bra and throws it off the bed.

“Much better,” He says as he catches your eyes and leans in for a kiss. His cock is leaning up against your thigh as he leans over and kisses you gently.

Your legs wrap around his waist once more and you feel his tip gently brush against your folds. Once again, you’re already wet for him.

“I can feel you getting wet again for me,” He teases. You nod and bite your lip, waiting for him to slowly enter. But he doesn’t.

Instead, Steve looks at you with his lustful eyes and leans his hand in between your bodies and grabs his cock, pumping it a few times before lining it up at your entrance.

Before you can say another word, he thrusts his cock inside of you in one big motion. You let out a whimper and grab onto his biceps and dig your nails into his skin in pleasure. He’s not even in all the way and you feel completely stretched out, his fingering doing nothing to prepare you for his size.

“Steve-” You moan out loud, your pussy clenching at his throbbing size and causing him to curse under his breath and thrust farther into you. His tip suddenly goes in deep, brushing against your cervix and you yelp out.

“You knew this was coming,” Steve grunts out as he bottoms out inside you. “You love my big cock inside you, don’t complain.”

You can’t help but nod in agreement; he was right you did enjoy being broken time and time again with his size.

Steve moves his hands to your hips as he gains traction and begins moving his cock in and out of you. The motion is painful, yet enticing and you begin to dance your hips alongside him. With just a few more thrusts, you were feeling your pussy fill again with the need to orgasm.

Steve could sense it by the way you were clenching each time he thrusted his length into you and he would be lying if he wasn’t ready to come already.

Sweat begins to dribble down your neck and down your chest and you can see the same on Steve’s face and body.

“I’m going to come again,” You groan as Steve pulls in and out slower this time, the movements shaking the bed.

“Come for me, be a good girl and come for me,” Steve commands and you do. He continues to pump through your orgasm and your nails dig deeper into you as you finish around him.

Steve groans and grunts as he does one last thrust and fills his come inside of you. You’re both panting and he falls on top of you, but makes sure to hoist himself by his arms to not crush you. You can feel the twitch of his cock inside of you and you clench.

“Don’t do that unless you want me to flip you around for round two,” Steve warns, leaning his head against the crevice of your neck and shoulder.

Both of your breathing begins to slow down and your minds return to where you’re at; the party in Tony’s house.

But the party can wait, you thought. It’s your birthday after all, and Steve always lets you have your way. And right now? You definitely wanted a round two.

[n0wornever]

Don’t Forget - Owen Joyner x Reader

Omg can I pls request Owen x reader where they fight about not feeling important to one another maybe he missed a date and she missed a release party or something so they have a mega fight but make up later that night either cuddling in bed or soaking in silence in a bubble bath (idk if that’s specific enough for you)

This was perfect, @cherrymaybank​, I hope you like it! 

Also, I don’t have an Owen Joyner taglist, and I wasn’t sure if the JATP list I had would be interested in actor content, so if you want to be placed on  a separate list....let me know! 

Y/N tapped on the table below her as she watched the diner clock hand strike 6:30. She had been waiting for her boyfriend for over an hour and the pity milkshake the waitress gave her only did so much to sooth her disappointment. She took one more sip of the strawberry drink before her eyes were pulled back to her phone. 

As she clicked on the Instagram app, she was immediately met by a video of Owen and Charlie goofing around in the airbnb they rented for the weekend. Charlie made a makeshift drumset from a couple pans in kitchen and Owen was singing off key in the background. Her finger slid a little further to see that the post had been uploaded only minutes before. 

Her brows furrowed as she closed the app and turned off her phone screen. She turned to her left, unzipping her purse and rummaging through its contents. As she stumbled upon her wallet and pulled it out onto the table, she heard a soft voice reach out to her.

“Oh honey, don’t even worry about it.” 

Her eyes rose to see the sympathetic smile of the kind red-headed waitress who had her hands clasped at her chest as she looked at her. Y/N’s eyes darted to the table where she’d set two pastel colored macaroons. She opened her mouth to protest, but the woman walked away, clanking her heels against the linoleum before she could even get the words out. She sighed, placing her wallet back into the bag. Her hand inched toward the treats, hesitating over the box for a moment before gripping it tightly. She zipped up the bag and threw it over her shoulder as she made her way to the exit. 

When Owen still lived in the city, she wouldn’t have probably been half as upset as she was about him missing a single date. However, the blonde had been so far away from her in California for months, and this would have been the first time she’d see him before he’d jet set again in a few days back to the coast for some promotional shoots for the next season. He had plans to take the boys out tomorrow and visit his mom Sunday afternoon, so she knew this was the only day she’d be able to catch him.

She stepped out into the warm summer air, walking down the sidewalk toward her car. The sun was at its peak, causing her to squint as she walked briskly back to her car. She grabbed her keys out of her jeans pocket and pressed it into the lock. As she climbed into the driver’s seat, she weighed her options.

She could go over to Owen’s airbnb, like they planned to after dinner, or she could go home and just call him about it later. With the embarrassment of everyone in the room looking at her in that corner booth still fresh on her mind, her foggy one-track-mind chose the first option. 

He had given her the address ahead of time, in case she wanted to come over before they went out that night anyway, right? Y/N’s finger tapped against the steering wheel as she pondered the situation in front of her for a moment. Owen’s time in the city was very minimal and if she didn’t confront him now, she may not get a chance to, and the anger would boil inside of her for several more months.

She shook out of her trance, placing the key into the ignition and swiftly pulled out of the lot, making her way to the boy’s place. 

After a few minutes of driving, a line of similar looking townhomes came into view on the right side of the road. She flipped on her turn signal and pulled into the parking lot. She quickly looked down at her phone in her lap to confirm the building number. The third home down was her destination. As she pulled into a spot right across from the bright red door, she let out another deep breath. 

She shook out her hands for a moment before turning off her car and unbuckling her seatbelt. She unzipped her purse and pulled the silver lined box out, pinching it between her fingers. She closed her eyes for a moment before finally letting herself open the door. 

As she made her way to the entrance, her free hand balled into a fist and her lips fell into a thin neutral line across her mouth. She jogged up the few stairs that led to the door. She lifted her hand to press against the door, letting it drop back down to her side afterward as she waited. 

It took a minute, but she finally started to hear the handle move from the the inside of the house. It finally broke free and she stood face to face with her boyfriend’s blue eyes. Owen looked over at her with a bright smile, but that shortly faded as he took in her expression. She didn’t say a word before handing over the little box to the boy, trying to ignore the fact that her hand were shaking as it move toward him. Owen’s eyebrow rose as he grabbed it from her, trying to latch onto her other hand afterward. Y/N shook from his grip and took a step back.

“I just wanted to bring you something from the diner...since you couldn’t make it,” She said, letting her eyes finally meet his.

Owen’s eyes widened as he looked at her. He shoved the box in his pocket, stepping forward toward her. As soon as his hands grabbed onto hers, she slipped right through. She chewed down on her lip before continuing her thought.

“Don’t worry about it, have fun with the boys.” 

She placed her hands in her pockets and turned to walked down the stairs. She heard him call after her, but she just kept her head down as she made her way back to the car. 

It wasn’t until she was sitting in the vehicle again that she let herself fully breathe. She looked out the windshield to see Owen still standing on the porch, watching her. She brought her focus back down the the steering wheel and put the car in drive. Her eyes caught his once more before she sped out of the lot. 

When she finally got back to her apartment, she threw her bag by the shoe rack and made a beeline for the kitchen. She opened the freezer, rummaging through tv dinners and frozen vegetables to find a single carton with colorful sprinkles on the outside. Her arm reached into the back and grabbed the container before shutting the door and making her way to the drawer near the sink to grab a spoon. 

She made her way back to the living room, falling back onto her couch. She tucked her feet underneath her and settled into the cushion. Her arm stretched out toward the table in front of her to grab the remote and pressed her on button. Clicking into her Netflix account and hit resume playing on the last episode of New Girl she was on, finally letting her back rest against the soft surface behind her. 

She got through one episode before she heard a knock at the door. She grabbed her phone that sat by her side, flipping it over to see that there were no new messages waiting for her. Puzzled, she placed her spoon in the dish and set it on the table as she finally got herself off the couch to answer the door. 

Unlatching the deadbolt, she pulled the door toward her. Her gaze landed on a pizza box with a little silver smaller box on top of it before they shifted up to meet a pair of blue eyes. Owen let a soft smile land on his left cheek, shaking the box from side to side. 

“Hi,” He said as his eyebrows pulled to the middle of his face.

She leaned against the doorframe, letting her lips lift as well as she watched his movements. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to apologize for being a complete idiot.”

She pinched her lips together at the side of her face as she moved out of the front of the doorway, outstretching her arm to motion him inside. Owen stepped through the door, walking over to the kitchen to set down the box. As he made his way back to the living room, he stepped right in front of her, invading her personal bubble. 

“Hi again.” 

His hands moved toward her waist, and she let him pull her in toward him. His thumbs rubbed circles on the sides of her hips as he met her eyes. She tried her best to keep a stern look across her face as she looked up at him, causing his smile to deepen even more.

“You’re really mad at me, huh?” 

“You ditched me Owen, this was supposed to be our day...” She spat, her tense worry line becoming more prominent as she spoke, hands pressed against his chest. “It was so embarrassing to sit in there alone and have everyone just watch you. The waitress wouldn’t even let me pay for my drink. She gave me these eyes.” 

Y/N mocked the puppy dog eyes the red head had given her that afternoon and Owen giggled up at her. His hands traveled to the middle of her back as he pulled her even closer. 

“I’m really sorry honey. I didn’t look at the clock...I...I have no excuse good enough...but I’m sorry.” He said with a sigh, leaning forward to press a kiss to her forehead. 

“Yeah you should be,” She said, pouting up at him.

“You should be the priority, always,” He paused for a moment, gauging her reaction. When a soft smile finally landed on her cheeks, he continued. “That’s why I told the boys to go sight-seeing without me tomorrow.”

His fingers tapped against her skin as he waited for her response. Y/N frowned up at him, leaning her head to the side. 

“You don't have to to do that, I know you wanted to show the boys around the city, I can-” 

He leaned down and captured her lips quickly. Her eyes closed as hers moved in sync with his. As they pulled apart, hers fluttered back open to Owen smirking down at her. He smiled down at

“Those two idiots can find their own way around, but I want to be with you tomorrow. We were supposed to have a day together, and I’m going to make that happen.”

She bit down on her bottom lip, nodding up at him. She brought her arms up to wrap around his neck, pushing against the nape of his neck to bring him back down to her level. As they parted, she brought her hand down to intertwine with his, leading him toward the couch.

She sat down first, Owen following quickly to sit on the cushion next to her. The boy placed his arm around her shoulders, bringing her into his side. She let her head lean against his chest as she held the remote up to the tv and pressed play.

“I love you,” He murmured into her hair, pressing a kiss against her temple.

Her eyes lifted up to his and she finally let a wide smile grace her lips as she whispered “I love you too” back up to him.

[jostepherjoestar]

👑Hewwu Queen 👑 is it alright if I request DIO in part 3 meeting his descendant?. Like he basically had a kid accidentally in part 1 and now he’s meeting their great grandkid who looks allot like him and seems to not be fully human. Maybe he meets them at night since their family was traveling around the world and stopped off in Egypt where he found them maybe listening to music?

Since you write for DIO, is it alright if I request that he somehow meets one of his kid after they get into some time travel shenanigans. Maybe his kid has a stand that is kinda similar to his but they aren’t confident in using it

DIO aiding his helpless descendant 

sfw / gn reader 

notes/warnings: implied assault (on your great-great grandmother)

Another case of two anons thinking alike!! It was really fun to think about this and sorry for taking so much time to get to it :o I hope you’ll still enjoy 💖✨also the pacing is strange/fast (to me), but i felt it fit with how frantic i imagine meeting Dio is

Somewhere between irking Jonathan and wishing to destroy any respectful sliver of the Joestar bloodline, Dio had his own way of indulging and spending his time. Men, women; any creature he could manipulate to his will and suck the life out of to join his dark army was welcome in his dimly lit hideout to meet their fate. The self proclaimed god that had surmounted humanity took pleasure in playing with his food; leaving them in complete darkness, literally. He’d let them suffer in silence, hearing them whimper and regret their choice to ever step foot inside the wicked monster’s palace. But it was always too late.

Except for the very night Jonathan had decided to come spoil the fun and ruin Dio’s playtime. The woman hadn’t meant anything to him, just a toy to play with and to later discard on the pile of other bodies strewn about. Was she glad to have been saved by the burly Joestar? At first yes; brought back to her senses, out of that monster’s grasp but left terribly violated. Left to carry and care for the offspring Dio would never know or care about, too busy being left to slumber in the ocean and gaining a new form from his hated ‘brother’.

Dio rose again, skulking in the shadows of dimly lit cities, looking for any and all petty humans and stand users to claim for his side. It took time and patience he didn’t know he possessed to get fully comfortable in his new body. There was always this inkling, a nagging sonar that kept getting louder and louder, not much unlike his connection to the new generation of Joestars. It grasped at his thoughts, kept him from any semblance of peace of mind -as much as he could acquire it- and there seemed to be no way of silencing it. He couldn’t see a clear picture; it was just nothing but an annoying sense of something being near.

He had searched for weeks like a bloodhound hot on a trail, irritated that he of all people, nay creations, was being made to follow and be obedient to the terrible nagging. It angered him greatly and only when he found a mere youngster sitting on a bench, you, a simple looking human, did it boil over. Sat with your walkman resting next to you on the wooden seating, head bopping along to your newest cassette in the middle of the night. Completely lost in the song you’d been drumming along to with your fingers. Dio was furious but knew better than to strike before investigating, he needed answers and he needed them now.

As he got closer to you, sneaking from behind, he noticed an immediate shift. You were no longer alone. An image, a blur that became clearer and steadier and more live-like as each second passed; posing defensively, staring down Dio with a fire in your eyes not much unlike the tall blonde’s. Not for a moment does he fear for his safety. Even though The World is a newly acquired power it could easily wipe out a scrawny kid without even hitching a breath. He smirks, eyes cast over in shadow by the dim street light as he hears you pause your cassette player.

“Oh? Was I disturbing you?’ he mocks in a smirk, catching the way your eyes glint and the vaguely familiar image you awaken in him. Just like before he’s left to figure out who this annoying hazy memory is. His voice shivers down your very being, goosebumps taking over your skin; not sure if you had already missed your chance to run. It was like his glare fixated you in place, finger still resting on the pause button of your player while the other reached up to remove the flimsy headphones.

“You…” you barely get out the word. The accusatory tone you had tried to convey had watered down to a whimper. You had felt the connection too, something nagging at your soul and stringing you along until you’d finally found the source. “Me? Hah! No, you.” Dio slid closer, his steps so quiet and calculated that even though you couldn’t take your eyes off of him you swore it seemed like he floated. You swallowed thickly, the huge figure that excluded an aura so menacing only a meter away from you.

“So. Who are you and why was it so disgustingly annoying to find you?” he joked impertinently, amused by the way you clenched your jaw at his remark. “I could ask you the same.” a brave little spark still smouldering inside. “DIO. Now don’t make me ask again, you’re making me dreadfully inpatient.” He hadn’t felt the need to kill you, at least not yet. Dio was truly curious about your answer but by the looks of it you really didn’t seem to know all that much.

You begrudgingly gave him your name, in need of some answers yourself. The sound of your name didn’t ring a single bell, not a tick, not a clank. Nothing. Not a single step further to knowing anything. “Well it seems like you do have a stand. Maybe you possess a great power that might be useful to me.” that wicked grin on his face told you a little too much of his motivations. He reminded you of those Saturday morning cartoon villains. But still you felt compelled to listen, ignoring every single red flag.  

Deciding to humour him you give out your stand’s name. “Trust me, we can’t really do much.” you huffed. You’ve only obtained your stand recently and honestly, it has been pretty shitty so far. You didn’t know exactly what it could do, it was just there. Any time you felt stressed or in danger it did come to your aid but it remained awfully docile. Their presence comforted you but you just knew it was capable of so much more.

“Are you a vampire?” The sudden question came out more surprised than Dio had hoped to let on. He regained his posture, opting to slide next to you on the bench with a swift move. There was something… off about the way you carried yourself that reminded him of himself and the other vampires he’d created. The question stunned you, your eyes that had already been widened in shock only growing more so. The way he had changed the entire conversation that had barely earned its start urged you to think quickly. “I don’t know.” you mumbled demurely. You really didn’t know. So many weird things had been happening to you lately that you being a vampire would explain a lot.

Your answer seemed to change the imposing man’s gaze and expression. It hardened a bit, his grin now slowly diminishing into a straighter line and his pointed brows resting down at a more natural angle. Even in this low light his image felt so familiar, like you were already supposed to know who he was but the memory remained hidden. Locked away for your safety. “You should feed. And don’t go out in daylight anymore.” Dio paused for a second. “Strange...” He pondered to himself out loud. He’s only seen a few cases like this, vampiric genes passed down through generations. For some reason he pitied you, as much as he could muster it. The unknown bond you shared felt too unusual to write off.

“What am I supposed to do?” you felt tears prick your eyes, trying your best to remain strong but you’ve been so tired. You couldn't confide in anyone, not about this. Tears started rolling, falling in thick streams down your cheeks and dropping onto your lap. Here you were, crying to a stranger named Dio about being a vampire and having weird powers. A bizarre twist of fate.

“First of all, stop crying. Then, widen your stance when you’re about to fight someone. I could have easily knocked you down with that flimsy imitation. Fix your posture while you’re at it. Call out your stand again.” He rattled off his demands quickly and flatly. Was he helping you? They were barbed complaints but it seemed like he actually wanted to aid you in whatever it was you were going through. You sniffled, wiping at your cheeks. You felt like a kid again; asking your parent for any reassurance when life knocked you down.

Dio actually offered a lot of viable advice, telling you about techniques to silence your steps, how to take someone down easily, to feed on humans within an inch of their life. You had asked him, just in case. You weren’t planning on killing anyone; a comment which made him scoff. That intimidating impression and overall feeling of having to bend to his will had lessened the more you talked to the blonde. He casually sat with you for what felt like hours. He hadn’t divulged into his own history, instead asking you about yours. He was still trying to figure out what this weird pull was.

“No one in your family has experienced anything like this before? Hmph. It seems to have skipped multiple generations then.” he was asking about your great grandmother and all the others that came before you. It could have occurred to them but you would have never known. “My family did come from England, though. My great-great grandmother fled in a hurry. We don’t really know why, Windknight’s Lot seems like an unusual place to frantically run from.” As soon as the small town’s name left your lips everything fell into place for Dio. His grin grew again, satisfied to finally know your connection to him.

Family.

One he made for himself, by accident, by a relation created on his own devious whim. Not that horrible Joestar bunch that kept ruining his fun or his horrible father that was but a faint minuscule memory. Something he did. It brought him even more satisfaction to know how perfectly in place it felt for you to be the one to develop these powers at the perfect time. His mind could have exploded with possibilities; a thousand ways to make you join his side. But it didn’t, he wasn’t sure that’s what he wanted yet. And he surely wasn’t going to tell you of your bond either, lest you get attached too quickly.

As you finished up and the early signs of a rising sun were starting to make itself known on the horizon, you were saying your goodbye’s. “Thank you for helping me. Truly, I- I don’t know how I-” you weren’t allowed to finish your earnest thanks. Dio knew you meant it, one of the only few truly grateful acknowledgements he’s ever received. “I’ll be taking over the world in a few months. If you feel so inclined to join, you know where to find me.” His lips curled into a smirk and he was making his move to leave you behind, alone on the bench again. Left to scramble for your stuff to try and stop him but he was already out of sight. “WAIT! I don’t know where to find you! You never told me!” you yelled into the empty streets, heart thumping out of your chest, hoping this wasn’t just a very elaborate dream you were caught in.

“Trust your instincts.” The voice felt incredibly close but so far away, like catching a falling snowflake; as soon as you grasped it, it just melted away.

[huihuiheart]

Kinktober D15: Yes Sir - Mafia! Changkyun

Pairing: Mafia Boss! Changkyun x f! Reader

The reader works for him, but not really in regards to heavy mafia business. She manages the bar part of his front and takes care of clients in the illegal card games in the back, that’s it.

Warnings: Mafia themes, thigh riding, dom + sub themes, sir kink, mentions of alcohol, mentions of gambling/poker games, praise kink, cursing, a little manhandling, dirty talk, implied sex.

Word Count: 1,804

Tag list: @hyunsungcore​ 

Most people would hate working for Changkyun, especially with the reputation he had. You, however, didn’t mind one bit. He barely had you doing anything illegal, and even what you did do was just getting his players drinks and such while they played. Changkyun mostly lets you handle the entirely legal aspects of his business, not wanting you at risk. He also trusted you, though, which is how you came to know about the business that he ran behind the scenes of the bar you kept functioning. You being one of the few girls he trusted to serve the games, the only one when it came to some more high profile individuals. Changkyun was more than fair to you, though. He paid you generously, giving you a business card for whatever the bar or games might need to be purchased to keep well maintained. He also ensured your protection, walking you to your car at the very least every evening, having given you a simple silver drop necklace with an emerald on it. He had told you to wear it everywhere as a sign that you are one of his so that no one would mess with you. It seemed to hold true too, the symbol must have mixed enough with your clueless aura towards mafia things to never have been bothered at all. 

What you didn’t realize is what his gift to you actually meant. Changkyun had an arrangement with a couple of other mafias that their family who wasn’t a part of the mafia would be left out of trouble and wars, offered protection by all of them. Changkyun’s marker for those people to him was an emerald. The only thing was, you were the only person Changkyun had given something to for protection. He had no family left, and anyone whom he was close to was in the mafia with him. A group that you were more than familiar with as well. The group regularly meets on Monday evenings when no one else would come to the card tables and discuss things both in life and in mafia happenings, a weekly meeting, and socializing all in one. This one of the times when Changkyun only trusted you in that separate room. 

“Good evening guys, I’ve got everyone’s usual.” You announce making your way around the table to hand out various drinks to each of their perspective recipients, ending as usual with Changkyun, “You all know what to do if you need anything else, yes?”

You’re nearly satisfied with yourself at the cheer and glass raise you get from most of the men who are now invested once again in the cards being dealt for this round. Until Changkyun gently grabs your wrist and motions you to lean in for him to whisper. Changkyun didn’t often if ever have an issue with you, so this wasn’t something you were used to from him. That being said, you wanted to have both his approval and attention for more reasons than you’d openly admit.

“Y/N, I want you to bring me the paperwork for the bar for the past year, please. We’re discussing some things, and I want to ensure that we have everything correct. Can you do that for me, doll?” The way he purrs out the term doll while his hot breath ticks against your ear and neck nearly brings you to your knees, but you keep it together in front of all of them, giving a curt nod. 

“Yes, sir.” You simply say before scurrying towards the exit as quickly as possible without seeming suspicious, not having any clue that every time you called him sir, he had the same problem brewing inside him as you did when he calls you doll. Diligently you bring him the records he’d inquired about, not concerned in the least that he’d find fault in anything you’d done knowing you ran it without issue and always informed him of major things before just going ahead yourself. His legitimate business had profited a lot since you took over running it, if anything he just needed the details for comparison purposes, you were sure. Continuing to fulfill your duties of keeping the bar running and the men playing cards satisfied, you had no qualms at all. Until after the bar closed when you found Changkyun waiting in the back for you alone looking over the files, placing his drink down with a soft clank, as his eyes met yours when you entered the room.

He unbuttoned and rolled up the sleeves of his crisp button-down before leaning back in his seat and motioning you over while undoing a few of the buttons covering his chest, just enough to give a tease, “Come here doll. We need to talk.”

Your eyes widen, gulping a little at this darker side of Changkyun as your nerves tick up a few notches, making your way over, “Is something wrong, sir?”

“Yes, but it’s nothing you’ve done. Have a seat doll.” Changkyun taps his thigh as if inviting you to sit on his lap, causing your throat to try up as you blink at him.

“O-On your lap, sir?” Your question comes out shakier than you intended, and Changkyun chuckles at how flustered you are.

“Yes, on my lap. We’ll be looking at files together, so it’d be easier that way, don’t you think?” Changkyun’s lazy smirk is smug, but it has the fire you’ve been trying to quench all night flaring up hotter than before. Yet, you didn’t argue, not when you might not get another chance to feel his body pressed so closely against yours, even if you both were fully clothed. Changkyun’s arms slipping around your waist and pulling your back flush to his chest as he brings the files up to rest on your lap.

“The boys were more than impressed with your work doll, they praised it even. You see...we have a couple of legitimate businesses to hide what we do, but yours is the one that runs smoothly. Never gives us any trouble. In fact, you do so well that we actually legitimately profit, whereas the others try to suck us dry and skim money from us. Which is why I’ve decided to offer you something...well a couple of things.” Changkyun explains showing you the numbers that compare the bar you ran versus their other fronts.

“Let me guess...you want me to run the legitimate businesses for you too?” You predict already spotting numerous problems that would need fixing just based on the numbers alone.

Changkyun hums against your neck, breath brushing right against it as his thumbs start to rub circles into your hips where he’s gripping them, “ Exactly, we were thinking just giving you one at a time, and once you smooth that one out we’ll add another and so on. Though there is another thing.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you can’t think of what else there could be, “What is that exactly sir?”

“I want you to be my queen. I’ve thought so for a while but seeing just how hard you work only further proves to me that you’re who I want. I’ll keep you out of the mafia side of things of course, but I want to be able to treat you like you deserve....even if you don’t want to be that for me...at least let me reward you for being so good for me doll.” Changkyun’s words are slightly muffled against your skin as he trails kisses down your neck, hands slipping up to grip and roam your sides, showing exactly what he wanted.

“Reward me then sir, however, you’d like.” You sigh softly, already melting into his touch, only for him to toss the files aside and make you stand. Though you soon understand why as he makes quick work of your clothes, before moving you to straddle his thigh, facing him this time.

“Well, maybe I saw wrong, but I think you might just have a thing for my thighs with how often you stare, doll. So why don’t you do whatever you’ve imagined on them, hm?” The certain, cocky look on Changkyun’s face shows that he knows for a fact, he wasn’t wrong and that you did indeed love his thighs. 

“Yes, sir.” You purr seductively, licking your lips and slowly starting to rut against his clothed thigh, mewling whenever he’d flex it beneath you as your nimble fingers worked to undo the remaining buttons on his shirt and expose his chest to you. His hands roaming and groping at the skin as you start to work your hips faster, his hands gripping your ass and making you grind harder against his thigh, rubbing more and more delicious friction against your clit, and leaving more of your slick against his dark jeans with each drag of your hips. 

“F-Fuck look how out of breath you already are, doll. You look like the prettiest little thing getting off on my thigh like this, make it messy. I’ll reward you like this whenever you want, you just have to ask, doll.” Changkyun’s words have you mewling, back arching, and drawing his attention to your breasts, where he sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, pulling back with it between his teeth and making you more desperate. Changkyun chuckles darkly, noticing how needy you’re getting, and bounces his thigh, groaning against your skin where he’s suckling on your breasts each time your thigh rubs up against his bulge. Your thighs tremble as your high approaches, letting Changkyun take control over your actions rutting against his thigh, only able to give in and moan for him.

“S-Sir I’m so close, I-I’m gonna cum. P-Please.” 

“Such a good girl, knowing to ask for permission first. Cum for me then doll. This is a reward, after all, cum all you want for me until my pants are ruined because of your mess.” Changkyun gives you all you need to hear to release a shrill cry and spill onto his thigh as your high pulses through your body. You pant softly, as you come down from your high, Changkyun peppering kisses over your shoulders and collarbones.

“You did so well for me, doll. Did amazing cumming all over my thigh like a good girl. Making it all sticky and wet with your juices.” Changkyun praises softly before pulling back and raising a brow at you in question, as you work on undoing his pants for him.

“I think it’s time for you to make me your queen now, Sir.” You give him the same smirk he’s been giving you all night as you give him a true answer to his earlier invitation as well as move to get what you both truly wanted.

“Fuck doll. I thought you’d never ask.”

[cora-vizsla]

Cabur Chapter 1

Rating: M for swearing

Word Count: 4.5K+

Warning: Paz being a dick. Injury (no great detail). Reader not feeling sure of herself.

This is a female reader with very little descriptors. There shouldn’t be anything explicit in this chapter. If I miss something or you want me to add a tag, please let me know!

As much as you loved being a Mandalorian, sometimes you envied other people. When you first started going out on any type of mission, it was jarring just seeing faces. You were used to children running free but the moment they earned their helmets, there was no going back. You marveled at the fact that people walked around just seeing each other with nothing covering their identity.

You looked at the women especially closely. They weren’t warriors and to you that was especially important, but they were beautiful. The way they did their hair and lined their eyes with different colors. You never had a need for it considering no one saw your face.

You had been young when you bought what they called eye liner. It was kept hidden in your room until one of your friends saw it and snatched it, making fun of you as they ran with it. You had pummeled them but a few of the warriors had decided to pull you off him, telling you how stupid it was to have something you would never need.

The only thing warriors cared about was what their armor looked like.

Now that you had your own armor you understood just a bit more. You took great care of it, even as you were getting newer pieces and growing out of the basic pieces you had gotten at first. It all mattered, and it was all that was between you and death at times. You were happy to die a warrior’s death, but that didn’t mean you needed to go right then.

You sat on the ramp of the Razor Crest watching the people that walked by. Every now and then they would glance at you and look away quickly, unsure why there was a Mandalorian near them. You sighed, almost wishing one of them would try to strike up a conversation.

Your company didn’t leave much room for pleasantries or conversation at all. You knew you should feel lucky that you were chosen to go with two of the greatest warriors the tribe had but sometimes you wanted to smack their bucket heads together. Even as they were walking up to you, they were bickering in Mando’a. You rolled your eyes and stood, taking a crate out of Paz’s hands as he turned to Din. You listened to them argue and they did so long enough for you to take all the supplies from them and stack them neatly along the wall.

“I know this isn’t my ship or anything but you two are starting to attract a lot of attention.”

Both visors turned towards you and you felt even smaller than normal. You were new, barely earning the title and placed with two of the strongest. You pointed at the small crowd watching the armored men argue and they huffed, walking past you. Paz made sure to bump into your shoulder, almost knocking you over. You growled out an insult and followed him, slapping the button to make the ramp close.

Paz sat down by the wall and cleaned his weapons. He was always making sure they were clean and taken care of, which you understood. What you didn’t understand was why he was cleaning the same weapon he had cleaned just a few hours before. Anyone else you would have questioned but he was in a worse mood than normal. You trudged over to the ladder and climbed up it, joining Din in the cockpit.

“Is it okay for me to sit up here?”

“Yes. You should be seeing how I fly this in case you need to.”

You sat down and watched him carefully. It was an older ship, but he took good care of it. He treated it just as well as he treated his weapons, which meant a lot.

“I’m sorry for saying anything earlier.”

You sat in silence, feeling uncomfortable that Din didn’t respond. Eventually he turned towards you once the ship was set on auto pilot.

“You had every right to speak up, vod’ika.”

You sighed, your shoulders slumping.

“Will I always be little sister to you? I’m a warrior now.”

“And you’ll always be littler than me.”

His tone was playful, and you smiled under your helmet.

“Don’t forget who trained you to be a warrior.”

“Gar serim! How could I forget about the infamous Din Djarin kicking my ass for years?”

He chuckled and sat back, crossing his arms.

“Don’t take it as an insult, prudii. I am proud of how far you’ve come.”

You smiled at the nickname he had given to you as a child. The moment you had seen him walking around you wanted to be just like him. You weren’t a baby when they had taken you in, but you were old enough to know what you wanted. You had told the Armorer then that you wanted to be a warrior and didn’t accept anything different.

“You call me little sister and shadow, but I am a grown woman now. I don’t need to be treated as a child.”

“You’re right. You will always be younger though until I die. So, you’ll always be vod’ika to me. Deal?”

You shrugged and he chuckled again. Din was shut off and cold to most people, but you were able to get him to chat every now and then. You attributed it to the fact that he had known you for so long. What made things uncomfortable was the behemoth of a man currently cleaning weapons.

You didn’t hate Paz. You really hadn’t been around him very much. He did teach but Din made sure that you were with him most of the time. He had called you shadow because you rarely left him when he was around.

It was common knowledge that him and Din bickered, and you thought you could handle it. One solid day with the two of them and you were sporting a constant and persistent headache. They fought in Basic just as much as Mando’a. Neither language bothered you, but you had a sneaking suspicion they argued more often in Mando’a because most people didn’t understand it.

“We’re going to be traveling for a while. Go get some rest. I’ll be sleeping up here.”

“Wow, thanks. Throw me to the loth wolf downstairs.”

“Loth wolves have more personality.”

“My apologies to the loth wolves.”

He barked out a laugh and you smiled, knowing just how rare it was to hear him laugh fully. You slipped down the ladder quickly, landing with a dull thud. You walked over to the cot and slipped off your beskar armor, setting it down gently against the wall. You made an effort not to make much noise not wanting to attract the attention of the brooding man in the corner.

You wondered if there was a way to break the shell away from Paz. He wasn’t going to ever be friendly to Din and it made it harder that you were closer to the one warrior that seemed to always piss him off. You wanted him to feel like he could talk to you though.

You sighed and laid down on the cot, quickly letting sleep pull you away from your thoughts.

XXX

You woke up to a loud noise and swearing. You rushed over to where Paz was and saw he was putting pressure on his arm. You walked over to the med pack and moved to him, kneeling next to where he was sitting on a crate.

“I don’t need your help, ad’ika.” He growled as he snatched the pack from you.

You bristled at being called a child and glared. You snatched the pack back from him and he hissed at the sudden movement of his arm.

“I am not ad’ika, Paz.”

“Alright, ge’verd.”

“I earned my title! I am not almost anything! Now shut up and let me treat your wound or I’ll let you bleed all over the floor.”

You grabbed his wrist and yanked his arm, yanking the sleeve up to look at the damage. You quickly used the bacta pad to cover the wound and made sure it was wrapped tight enough to work.

“I can feel the snark behind your bucket, girl.”

“You call me an almost warrior but I’m not the one who hurt himself cleaning his weapon. Isn’t that something you learn as a chi-“

He cut you off when he grabbed the front of your shirt, yanking you to him. Your helmet clanked into his, eliciting a snarl from your mouth.

“Let me go, chakaar!”

He twisted his hand in your shirt tighter and practically growled at you.

“If it wouldn’t be disrespectful, I would question how you possibly became a warrior. You’re weak. Soft. You can’t even break free of your allies’ grasp. How the hell do you think you’ll ever manage out there against someone who wants to kill you?”

A flash of self-doubt hit you but you quickly snapped yourself out of it. You reached forward and clamped your hand down on the cut on his arm. He hissed and let you go, cursing loudly.

“Cheap shot. Who is the chakaar now?”

“It’s still you. Next time you almost kill yourself don’t wake me up.”

“Toughen up, sweetheart, if your own tribesmen can hurt your feelings you won’t last a day out there on your own.”

You stomped back over to your cot and tossed yourself down on it. You chastised yourself for even considering being friendly to the giant ass on the ship. You’d stick to Din and continue to learn from him. He at least made sure there was a real lesson with anything hard you faced.

XXX

You wouldn’t ever admit it, but the mission was falling to shit. Din had gone in to find the quarry and you had no idea what Paz was doing. Your job was to watch out for anything incoming, but you hadn’t seen a damn thing in hours. Something was making the hair on the back of your neck stand up which put you on edge. You noticed that the woods around you got eerily quiet, so you stilled as well.

Right as you were about to switch the safety off on your weapon, you were grabbed from behind and flung to your right. You let out an involuntary squeak the moment you left the ground and whipped to your back when you reconnected with the hard gravel below you. You scrambled backwards and saw three shots land right where you had been. Your head whipped to the being stalking towards you and you jumped back to your feet.

“Paz! What the hell!”

“What the hell yourself! I just saved your ass!”

“It would have hit my beskar. I would have been fine!”

“There are weak spots in your armor, girl. You can’t expect to take three fucking hits and think you’d walk away without a mark on you.”

“So, I’m supposed to just walk away from being thrown by you?”

“Better you walk away limping than me dragging your body back to the ship.”

He was right in your face and you hated how much you had to tilt your head back to look up at him. You heard Din coming up walking the quarry and he paused when he saw the two of you.

“Glad to know I had no one watching my back.”

“I was watching your back until this chakaar decided to throw me across the forest.”

“I saved your life, ad’ika.”

“I am not a fucking child, Paz!”

“Enough!”

You shoved off Paz’s chest slightly satisfied by the fact he did actually move slightly. You stomped over to Din and took the quarry from him, walking towards the ship. You heard him try to talk to you, but you weren’t having it. The quarry complained that you were moving too fast, but you didn’t care about that either.

Once he was pushed into the carbonite you went to go to the cockpit knowing Paz hated it up there, but you were quickly grabbed and slammed into the wall behind you, knocking the air out of you. He lifted you up like you were nothing more than a rag doll, making it so your feet were dangling below you, unable to touch the floor.

“Let me go!”

“No! You are going to listen to me, ad’ika. You hate it so much when I speak down to you, but you don’t listen.”

“How can I listen when you don’t speak!? All you do is belittle me and trash talk Din. I haven’t heard a wise word come out of your stupid bucket!”

He moved forward so his helmet was pressed against yours, growling lowly. You grabbed at his arms and tried to dig into the spot you still knew would be sore, but he had wrapped it to prevent anything from harming him.

“I never would have let someone so weak pass my training.”

“Weak? How would you know when you were never there! You rip Din for being a bounty hunter all the time but when have you actually been there to train the next generation of warriors!”

“Maybe I was gone because I was ashamed, they were training aruetii with the idea they actually belonged!”

The roar of his voice was nothing compared to the pain of what he said. Outsider. You remembered all the children calling you that. Outsider. You would never belong.

You felt your entire body deflate and when he moved his helmet away from yours you looked down. He dropped you to the ground when Din started yelling at him and somehow you caught yourself, but you barely remembered it. You brushed past both of them and head straight for the cockpit, desperately wanting to get away from everyone.

You shut the hatch behind you and sat down in the co-pilot seat. A sob wracked you and you pulled your helmet off, desperate to be able to breathe. You held it in front of you and looked at it, tears streaming down your face. You had worked so hard to earn your helmet and took the creed just as seriously as the two men on the ship.

The children had taunted you with that word. Aruetii. They had told you that you’d never belong no matter how hard you tried, and you had proved them wrong. You were a warrior and damn proud of the fact. You pressed your forehead against the helmet and shut your eyes.

You just wanted to be accepted.

XXX

You heard the hatch open and wiped at your face with your sleeve before slipping your helmet back on. Heavy footsteps got closer until Din sat down in his chair, swiveling to look at you. You kept your face trained down at the floor, trying to calm your breathing and stop the seemingly endless catches in your breath.

“He was wrong, vod’ika.”

“He wasn’t the first person to say that to me, Din. I’m sure he won’t be the last.”

“And what happened every time someone said that to you?”

“I kicked their ass.”

“So why is this different.”

You shrugged and pulled at your chest plate, uncomfortable wearing the unforgiving metal.

“You and Paz are the two most respected warriors in our tribe. I just.. I thought things would be easier once I earned my place. All I do is fight and lose.”

“Don’t think that way, vod’ika. You’re a strong warrior. I made sure of that. I wouldn’t have brought you with me if I thought you were incompetent.”

“Why did you bring him?”

“We get bigger bounties the more of us there are. If I go in alone, they won’t give me the larger more important bounties to hunt. They see someone as clunky as he is, and they think he’s competent.”

“I wish he didn’t hate me.”

“He doesn’t hate you, vod’ika. If he hated you, he’d throw you from the ship.”

You sighed and let your head hang more.

“You don’t need to prove anything to him. You’ve proven yourself to the tribe. The Armorer forged your helmet, for you. You worked for the beskar that protects your body. Don’t let that chakaar make you think differently.”

“Do you mind if I sleep in your sleep area? I just.. don’t want to deal with him right now.”

“Go head. You can take your bucket off and relax for a while. We’re taking the quarry back and getting some more pucks. Won’t need you for a few cycles.”

“Keep him away from me as much as possible. I’ll work with him for the good of the tribe but..”

“Understood. Sleep well, vod’ika.”

“Goodnight, vod.”

You slid down the ladder and shot Paz a glare before climbing into the small sleep space. Once the door was shut you slipped your helmet off and sighed at being able to lay down without the helmet. You ran your fingers through your hair and groaned at the sensation. You would gladly live by your creed but the few precious moments you were alone would always be important to you.

XXX

You spent months avoiding Paz and helping Din get quarries. It became routine to help with whatever mission there was and immediately move to the cockpit or sleep area. You had found a way to clean your weapons in there even though it wasn’t the most comfortable. Anything was better than being stuck in the same room with Paz.

You weren’t sure you could ever get over him calling you an outsider. Din had been right; you worked damn hard for everything. His disrespect of you was disrespecting everyone who had trained and tested you. He didn’t know better than the elders or the Armorer.

Reminding yourself that you were competent is what kept you going. You moved through the rough terrain after a particularly grueling mission, listening for anyone sneaking up on you and your comrades. You didn’t know much about the current quarry, but he was a big deal which meant a lot of credits.

You had thought it was strange that Paz was the one walking him but didn’t say much. The guy was much bigger than you and still bigger than Din. It did make more sense to have Paz walk him if even to try to deter him getting away.

Of course, none of you were that lucky.

The quarry broke free by tripping Paz. It looked like he was going to take off but instead he pulled a blaster that was hidden in his boot. You tried to turn quickly enough to shoot but he was able to get a shot off first. You screamed out in pain as it hit your side, right in an open spot your armor left unprotected.

You dropped to the ground as Din tackled the man to the ground, punching him in the face. The man went limp and you howled out at the pain coursing through you. Din scooped you up in his arms and ran towards the ship. You couldn’t see much but it looked like Paz had tossed the quarry over his shoulder.

“Din.. can’t-can’t breathe.”

You wheezed in air and it was only amplified by the helmet. Din brought you directly to the cot and laid you down, ripping your beskar off your chest. He pulled your shirt up and swore under his breath at the injury.

“Vod’ika, I’m going to sedate you. I have limited medical supplies, but we’re close to a medic station. I move quicker than Paz. I’ll be back. You hang on, okay?”

You nodded at him and winced when you felt the medication being injected into your arm. You thought you could feel the cool of bacta hitting your side but sleep quickly took you from consciousness.

XXX

The first thing you noticed was how unfiltered the air felt as you inhaled. You groaned, touching your side lightly and heard shuffling around you. It sounded like Din and Paz were arguing quietly but your brain felt muddled. You tried to sit up, but a strong hand landed on your shoulder stopping you.

“Don’t. You need to give all the medication time to work.”

“Okay I-“

You stiffened when your voice sounded wrong. You whipped your eyes open and started breathing heavily as you looked up at Paz’s visor. Your eyes wildly looked where you knew his eyes should be and you jolted up to sitting.

“No. No!”

He tried to grab you again, but you roughly pulled from him and grabbed your helmet and slammed it down on your head. You slid back on the cot and panicked realizing both men had clearly seen your face.

“What did you do!? Why! Why did you do this!”

“You couldn’t breathe.”

“Then you should have let me die!”

Paz was trying to be calm and Din had his entire body turned from you. You sobbed and clung to your helmet like you were afraid they were going to take it again.

“Don’t be foolish.”

“Foolish? FOOLISH!? I took the same creed you did! Both of you! You both.. dar’manda. You’ve made me dar’manda!”

Din whipped so he was facing you and walked forward. You shrank back from him and Paz, feeling like a cornered animal.

“No. No one could possibly hold this against you.”

“No? You’re telling me that you could find any interest in a riduur if she had been seen? You have no idea how hard it is to be a warrior when you stupid men only want children. I had only a few years to live this dream of mine. Just a few years before the tribe would need me to start bringing younglings to add to our future. Now.. you’ve ruined my future. I’d be better dead than this shame!”

Din gripped the bed and tensed up. Paz looked down, not saying a word. Another sob fell from your lips so you curled up into yourself.

“It would have been a waste to let you just die.”

You raised your face slowly until you were looking directly at Paz. You felt your entire body tense as you glared.

“A waste for who? You know what? You got what you wanted. You said I’m an outsider, well now I really am. Forever branded dar’manda and shunned from the only family I have ever known.”

Paz stormed away, slamming things as he went. Din put his head down on the bed in front of him and stayed silent as you cried.

“Vod’ika-“

“Don’t call me that.”

“I didn’t look at your face. Paz warned me when I came on the ship, he had to remove it. He stayed with you and treated your wound.”

“I don’t care.”

“There are ways-“

“I am not marrying him, Din. No. And I’m not going to suddenly become his child so no matter what, my vow has been broken.”

“We can go to the Armorer. She can-“

“She can do nothing. She will say the same that you have.”

“You’d rather give it all up than-“

“Than be in a marriage with someone I could never.. yes. He has no respect for me. I was prepared to raise children on my own. I would have been honored to raise my ad’ika to be strong. I can’t teach them to be strong while being willfully disrespected. I won’t.”

“Then what? What will you do?”

“I will go. I’ll send half of my earnings to the tribe somehow. I can’t.. I can’t change what I am now, but I can still make sure they have what they need.”

“We could just not tell anyone.”

You scoffed and stood up, pulling on your armor. Everything hurt and you knew you needed more time to heal but the idea of getting away from everyone you knew was much more important in your head. Din handed you a bag full of supplies and walked you down the ramp, pointing you in the direction of the closest city as he handed you a comm device.

“It will be a long walk. I can-“

“No.”

He grabbed your arm and turned you, so you were facing him. He put his hands on your shoulders and pressed his forehead to yours, making your eyes start to sting with tears.

“Re’turcye mhi, vod’ika.”

You shook your head and sniffled, trying to stay strong.

“Goodbye, Din. Thi-this is the way.”

He hesitated and put his hand on the back of your head, keeping your forehead to his. You shut your eyes knowing that it was very likely the last time you would see him.

“This is the way.”

[jimlingss]

Moirai [2]

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3

➜ Words: 6.2k

➜ Genres: 60% Fluff, 40% Angst, Isekai!AU

➜ Summary: Death is supposed to be the end. Or at least that's what you assumed when you're hit by a TRUCK. But the moment you open your eyes again, instead of being sent to the afterlife, you've become a baby. And not just any baby. You're the female villain of a video game.

You turn the corner and dart down the hall.   “My lady!”   There’s a parade of maids chasing after you, Joan included in the bunch, and a frightened guard whose metal armour clanks with each movement. You grin, swinging your wooden sword around at them with a ‘huzzah!’. Pretending you’re a champion, you twirl around the pillar with one arm. But even with your theatrics, they’re still meters away and out of reach.   “Please! Come back! You have your dance lessons!”   You stick out your tongue. “Then catch me!”   It’s been one full year since you’ve started learning swordsmanship and admittedly, it’s become one of your most favourite times of the day. It beats sitting at a desk with the old fart droning on and on about dumb things you already know or having your posture criticized over and over again during dance lessons.    You’re frankly getting tired of having information and insults shoved down your throat.    Sword lessons are the only time you can be out in the sun and do whatever you want. You can tell that you’re improving too. It’s a pain in the ass to get the guards to take you seriously, but sometimes the tips and tricks they give are pretty helpful.   It’s fun.   Especially when there are people desperately chasing you.   “P-Please!” one of the girls cries out, running out of breath.   One of the best perks about being a five-year old is having endless energy in your body. And you’ll happily take advantage of that while you still can. “Pirates never give up! Argh, matey!”   But your play time is unfortunately interrupted by a deadpanning voice—   “What are you doing?”    The familiar sharp voice sends shivers up your spine and you freeze.   Your parade halts on their heels as well, immediately dropping their heads to the ground and placing one hand over the other reverently. “Your grace.”   “What is going on here?” Your mother’s footsteps echo through the marble hall, ball gown dragged behind her as her scrutinizing eyes lay on the help, the knight and then to you.   “I’m so sorry,” Joan is quick to confess, “The lady refuses to attend her dance practices.”   And she’s quick to throw you under the bus.   If you could, you’d stick up your middle finger at her.   Your mother turns, her glare laid upon you. You brace yourself.   “This is not how the future Devereux head should act.” Her voice is above a slight murmur, yet chilling and heavy. Her narrowed eyes have dimmed as they look upon you. She doesn’t need to yell to be frightening. “The Chevalier household has their youngest daughter playing piano and they recently went to the castle to show her talent. How will you compete, Anastasia?”   “I—”   “Or will you continue to tarnish our family’s name by being a child?”   You are a child. Technically.    The woman looms over you, her demeanour imposing and the burden of the household’s name lays upon your shoulders. You can’t help but feel small. It’s no wonder Anastasia took the Prince’s kindness as love and fell for him so quickly. Moments with him were her moments of freedom.   You stay quiet, solemn, knowing it’s not worth arguing. Your eyes instead focus on a younger maid who’s silently snickering to herself and before you can make note for later, your vision blurs.   “From now on, your swordsmanship lessons will be retracted until you’ve caught up with the rest of your lessons,” she says while looking straight ahead, not sparing you a glance. “The only places you are to be permitted in for the next month is your room and the study—”   It’s unfair. A punishment that doesn’t fit the crime.   But your voice doesn’t come out of your mouth.   The world tilts on an axis. It swirls. Your head is lightweight.    And before you could figure out what’s happening, there’s a shrill cry for you — “my lady!” — and you feel yourself falling back before the universe becomes pitch black. An abyss of nothing.   //   “Why did she faint?!”   When you come to, your first thought is that you’ve died. Again.   Illness. Heart attack. Maybe from the plague.    Fuck.   It’s frightening and you feel an urge to cry, knowing that you yet again didn’t complete your goal of living a long and fruitful life. That the years spent fighting for your survival were ultimately useless. But then you hear far away voices and realize your fingers can twitch. The soft mattress underneath you registers soon after and it sinks in that you’re in your room, bedridden.   “Well….your grace…”   “On with it! I didn’t bring you here to waste my time!”   “Herrick…”   Oh right. It’s the Eve of the Solar Festival, isn’t it? A day where commoners celebrate the empire and wish for its everlasting prosperity. You remember since you’ve never gone before. Around this same time last year and the year before that, you fell ill in the exact same way — cold, chest aching, dizzy spells.    It’s odd. Usually you aren’t so weak and yet somehow, you always get better in the morning once the festival is over. You don’t remember this ever being mentioned in the original game either. Or at least Anastasia never said anything about it and she would’ve totally milked it for the Prince’s attention if she could’ve. But maybe it’s an outside detail. Something the game developers were going to include in a future DLC.   “We don’t know what’s happening to the lady, your grace,” the healer says.   Your father bellows from his stomach, “Excuse me?!”   “H-Her pulse reads well and she has no fever either. I-It’s a very unusual case.”   In your half-consciousness, you perceive the bitter silence.    “Heal her at all costs.” Your father’s footsteps fade and your mother sighs.   You wish you couldn’t hear. Otherwise, it would be easy to demonize the pair as unsympathetic, psychopathic parents who only consider their daughter a chess piece. You’re sure the only reason they’re expressing so much concern is because you are the only heir after all. They really have no future if Anastasia dies.    But it’s still hard to quell the hope that they actually care for your wellbeing.    Still, you wish you couldn’t hear their desperation. It wouldn’t have to be so conflicting. Or bittersweet. The only time they show an ounce of their affection is when you’re on your deathbed.   You muster the strength to open your eyes once everyone’s left the room.    Most likely, you’ll live through this. You still have yet to have any of the game’s encounters or even start. Anastasia was alive for most of it, enough to terrorize the main character, so you’ll live too.   Shit. When does the game start again?   The opening scene was right before the debutante ball was held for all the girls in the empire.   You count on your fingers — give or take, there’s twelve or thirteen years left….   But you remember from the wiki fan page that Anastasia became engaged to the Crown Prince when they were kids.    Oh god. If you weren’t so weak, you’d roll over and scream into your pillow.   There’s an unsettling feeling boiling in the pit of your stomach.   No matter how much effort you put forth, you don’t know how you’re going to avoid that arrangement.

Turns out, it’s unavoidable.   It begins two years later at seven years old, the D-day that you were dreading, the first domino that begins all the others.   “No! Please!” The entire household is stunned at how you’ve grabbed onto the Duke’s leg and wrapped your limbs around his appendage, practically dead weight and not allowing him to move a single step.    All your life, you’ve kept a good amount of distance between your parents — never daring to overstep your boundaries or sass them back no matter how much you wanted to. It’s more trouble than it’s worth anyway and it’s better to play on their good side.   But you’ve thrown in the towel. This is your last desperate attempt.   “I’ll be good, I promise I’ll go to all my dance lessons and all my history lessons and all my math lessons. Please, papa! Please!” You’re practically crying aloud. You wish someone would help you. “I don’t want to go to the Royal Palace!”   Edith is shaking her head while Joan is mortified at the sidelines.   Your mother’s expression is twisted in disgust while your dad is wholly aghast. Hey — it’s not like you wanted to do this either, alright?!   But your pleas fall on deaf ears. To them, it’s merely the whining of a child. A temper tantrum.   “My lady, please stop this,” Joan harshly whispers and rushes to pry your grip off of the Duke’s leg. Several others come too, maids and kitchen staff alike. Your strength is no match for theirs.   “My stomach hurts!”   Your father has no sympathy. “We’ve delayed enough times, Anastasia. If we postpone the meeting with the King again, it would be shameful to our house. Now get up.”   He’s done hearing the excuses — and while you’d usually internally call him out for being an ass, the moment you heard he wanted to take you to the palace, you did claim you have a fever.    Then you claimed diarrhea. A cough. Hid for several hours.   You’re actually surprised you managed to delay it for this long.   “There’s no choice, my lady,” Joan mutters quickly as she fixes the ribbons in your pretty hairdo. “You must go with the Duke today.”   Deep down, you know it’s true. You’ll be pulled along anyhow.    But you wish they would understand that this is a matter of life and death for you.   Your silence is a sign of raising the white flag and Joan retracts back to her place as your dad turns to leave the manor. He adjusts his hat as he’s escorted to the carriage and you’re about to trail after him, but your mother stops you.   You expect her to reprimand you, give an earful of what you should and shouldn’t do. But you’re surprised when she lowers herself down to your eye level.    She catches you off guard when she reaches out to button up your pea coat, attentive and careful in each swift movement. “This is a really important meeting, Anastasia. Do you understand?”    Her voice is soft, quiet enough that no one else aside from you can hear. You nod.   “You must be on your best behaviour. Your father, me, all the workers here, and the whole House of Devereux will be relying on you.” Wow. Way to not pressure a seven year old. “Today is the day that might change our lives for the better.”   As she finishes buttoning, her hands stroke your shoulders down your arms. The Duchess smiles gingerly, tiredly. For a moment, you feel guilty for being so selfish — for prioritizing your own survival and desires when everyone else was quite literally relying on you for their livelihood.   You find yourself swallowing hard before nodding again.    You get into the carriage without another word.    Well fuck. What now?   A part of you wishes you ran away when you had the opportunity — even though there was a good chance you would’ve been kidnapped and sold at an underground market or gone hungry or be shipped back right to your parents. Ashea, like any other place, doesn’t take kindly to wandering children.   But at least then you would’ve had more control and choice.    You know this isn’t just a fun field trip to the palace. The only reason the Duke and the King would meet like this is to seek an engagement. Your engagement with the Prince’s.    Half an hour later, you peek out the carriage windows to see the castle at the horizon.   Stone walls, seven towers, lookouts, the empire’s flag fluttering in the breeze — it’s a beautiful place with rolling green hills and beds of flowers that wind up the path. It’s a hundred times more grand than the Devereux estate and ten times the size too, stretching across for miles. But it’s also the location where all of it happens.    The beginning. The climax. The end.   “Anastasia.”   Your attention is taken when your father steps off the carriage. You take the servant's hand and hop down onto the cobblestone, following your father closely. He greets an important person or two and you lower your head to them in greeting as they complement how mannerly you are.   The two of you are led through open, lavish halls full of life-sized portraits and marble statues, and then through the garden. Even in both your lifetimes, you’ve never seen so many different kinds of flowers and vivid hues in one place.    Pansies. Orchids. Marigold.    Magenta. Lavender. Marmalade.   But you don't get to admire it for long. Not when the gazebo comes into sight.    A man with straight posture, dark hair streaked with gray to show his age and deep set eyes sits at the rounded table. Even with the absence of his crown, his status is shown through his navy cape ornate with golden swirls held together by an emerald jewel embellished with the royal crest. Wrinkles around his mouth, he has a fiercely stern expression until he cordially smiles as your father approaches.    Beside him is a spitting image, a smaller boy slumped in the white chair, visibly bored.   “Herrick! Good to see you, my old friend.”   “Your Majesty.” Your father bows and you follow suit, giving a curtsy and lowering your head. But at the same time, you can’t help peeking at the boy. His eyes meet yours and you look away.   Oh fuck.   It’s the first meeting between the Prince and Anastasia.    You’re sure for her it was impactful, nerve wracking, life changing. And it’s like that for you as well, but not so much on the positive side.   “Please, the formalities. Is this the daughter you've been speaking so highly about?”   “Yes, this is my only child, Anastasia.”   You plaster on a perfect, little smile. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Your Majesty.”   The King hums. “A very lovely child indeed. The Devereux House is blessed.”   The Duke smiles. “Thank you.”   “Please sit and make yourselves welcome.” The King gestures and the servants nearby scurry over, pulling out your chairs, pouring tea and placing plates of biscuits on their table. In a blink, they’ve finished and you can’t help but muse how much better they are than the servants back at home. The King smiles and looks at his son. “Jungkook, don’t you have anything to say?”   “Nice to meet you,” he deadpans before his doe eyes wander out to the gardens.    Jungkook is wholly disinterested in you and this entire affair — you don’t blame him. You bet any seven year old would be itching to get out of their seat. But looking at him, you can’t believe you liked him so much in the game. You even had him as your phone wallpaper for a few months.   But from the perspective of Anastasia and knowing your outcome and your impending demise, he’s not even cute as a kid.   If anything, sitting across from him stresses you the fuck out.   You weren’t supposed to even meet him. This was the exact opposite of your battle plans. And yet the engagement is going to happen whether you like it or not. The greatest irony of all is that you know he’ll end up falling in love with the main character anyway instead of you. Aka. the orphaned girl who ends up adopted by a baron.   This whole ordeal only serves to make you suffer.   The only way you could sabotage this meeting now is by slamming the teapot over Prince Jungkook’s head. And that would either get you thrown in jail for treason and executed or sent back to the Devereux estate on house arrest where your mother would kill you.   Oh god. It’s death either way.   “Are the sweets not to your liking?”   It takes a second for you to register that the King is looking at you. That he’s speaking to you.   You go wide-eyed, realizing you haven’t had a bite of the cakes, the biscuits or sipped on any tea. You’ve completely tuned out their conversation. But he’s been watching you and Jungkook from the corner of his eye, assessing your interactions closely.    Your palms go clammy as you open your mouth before closing it.    “She’s just shy,” your dad swiftly informs with a polite smile. It’s a complete lie, but one the royal monarch believes.   “Ah. We shouldn’t bore them with adult talk then.” The man turns to his son. “Jungkook, why don’t you go off and play with Anastasia here?”   “Okay,” he mumbles and slides off his chair.   You follow suit, a bit relieved that you were dismissed from the overly formal atmosphere.   The two of you go deeper into the gardens until the gazes of your father and the King’s fade from view. Jungkook is wearing a white ensemble with a cape which he dirties with the way he’s kicking rocks in his path. He seems burdened that you’re beside him.   “What do you like playing?” he asks.   You’re perplexed on how to answer. You’re not sure how you should play with an actual seven year old. Then again, you like to run away from the maids and swing your sword around on your down time. But that’s just because you like their reactions.   “Sword fighting.”   Jungkook blanches as if he just bit into a lemon. “What kind of girl plays with swords?”   Suddenly, you’re overwhelmed with an urge to kick the royal prince right in his shin.    But as the annoyance floods you, an epiphany comes along with it — if you can’t avoid Jungkook, maybe it’s time to switch strategies. Maybe you can start sowing the seeds of your future survival right here, right now. If one day, he’ll be condemning you of countless crimes and looking down at you as an evil villain, maybe you can turn his perception in the opposite direction.   Harmless. Overbearingly nice. Arrows that practically point ‘I’M NOT A THREAT WHATSOEVER!’.    You’re a genius.   You force the highest pitched giggle you can. “Really?”   Jungkook kicks another rock. “Girls have flimsy arms and trip every time you touch them.”   Ah. The ancient version of: girls have cooties and so you should stay away from them. Alright, alright. You can work with this.   “What do you like playing, Your Highness?”   “Anything that’s not with girls.”   You pause and laugh, hoping it doesn’t sound too stiff.   Jungkook suddenly lifts his head and turns to you with the swivel of his heel. You stop as well and his index finger juts right in your face. “Since I’m the prince, I’ll have mercy on you. We can play servant and king.”   “What’s servant and king?”   “I’m the king.” His thumb pokes himself and then he’s back to pointing right between your eyes again. “You’re the servant. You have to follow me and all my orders or off with your head!”   What a little shit.   How is this going to be any fun for you?!   But you draw an enormous grin on your face, left eye twitching in the process. “Sounds like fun, Your Highness!”   He strolls off. “Let’s go, dumb dumb.”   Your teeth grit and you inhale a deep breath. It hurts your pride to be insulted by a literal seven year old, but you can handle it. When it comes to life or death, you’ll easily befriend the hero.   “Fetch that stick, peasant!”   The prince points at the distance and looks at you expectedly.   Your teeth grit. But you muster a smile and dash forward.   When it comes to life or death, you’ll befriend the hero……….probably.   “Here you go, Your Highness.”   You present the stick to him with both hands and the brat smirks. A rush of air leaves his nose and then he takes the stick. You’re not sure what to expect, but your entire body freezes when he hurls it as far as his arms can go. He points between your brows a second later. “Go get it!”   Motherfucker. “Yes!”    Once Jungkook’s tired of having you fetch like a dog, you trail after him closely. The green hedges are triple your size, acting like corridors of the garden before they open up to certain areas filled with beds of flowers or a fountain. Some paths are unpaved, so you listen to the crunch of rocks underneath his shoes amidst the quiet.    When you’re not out of breath and running at his command, it finally sinks in that it’s the first time you’re with a main character of the game. For the seven years of this lifetime thus far, there was only really you. Your parents were supporting characters at best who just took the opportunity to slyly diss the main heroine a few times at royal gatherings. But other than that, you’re currently facing the backside of someone you know a lot about.   Who he will become. What his future holds. What his desires are.   You pipe up, “Prince Jungkook—”   “That’s Your Highness, peasant!”   You clench your jaw. “Your Highness…”   “What?”   You quicken your steps until you’re beside him and he turns his head. “I’ll support you forever if you want to fall in love with anyone! I don’t care about being the crown princess or the queen!”    For good measure, you flash a wink and a thumbs up.   “What?” His boyish face is twisted up in disgust. “Why would a peasant be a queen?”   You hold in your sigh. “I’m just saying. If we ever get engaged or something, it can always be annulled when we’re older. So feel free to love on, Your Highness. Make love, not war!”   Your words completely fly over Jungkook’s head.   His face reads that he has no clue what you’re talking about.   And he turns away from you. “You’re weird.”   You scoff.    You’re not sure how you can become friendly with a seven year old when you’re internally twenty years older than he is. If you had chocolate on you, you’d use that as a bargaining chip. But clearly, you only have your body, brain and the surroundings at the moment….   What do seven year old boys like?   What do they like?   As you scan your surroundings, your eye catches something in the bushes. You stop and get closer.   At the same time, Jungkook realizes you’re not following him anymore and turns around. “What are you doing, peasa—” His words are cut short by a shrill shriek of absolute terror.   Your brows furrow and you thrust your hand closer to him. “It’s a ladybug.”   The tiny red and black polka dotted bug is crawling in your hand. Jungkook screams again.   He’s stumbling back, nearly tripping onto his butt, doe eyes reflected with complete horror as if you just chopped off his mom’s head. “Get that thing away from me!” his voice cracks up and down two different octaves and realizing his weakness, you grin.   You know your plan was to seem as harmless as possible, but it’s just too much fun teasing him.   “What thing, Your Highness? Your servant is merely showing you a small forest creature.”   “No! Stop!”   He scrambles and starts running away.   You chase after him while giggling manically. “Prince Jungkook! Where are you going!”   “Get the bug away from me!”   He turns over his shoulder with eyeballs nearly falling out of their sockets, face bright red, and you take the opportunity to toss the ladybug at him. Jungkook’s shrieks echo, pitched and earsplitting.   You’re forced to stop with how hard you’re laughing and by then, he’s ran for the hills, completely gone from sight.   Oh god. You can’t believe he’s so scared.    You can’t believe you were so scared — he’s just a kid.   Your giggles taper off as you wander the gardens by yourself. It’s freeing to stroll at your own pace without a brat demanding you to fetch sticks or barking at you to do this and that. It’s a chance to finally admire the surroundings.   You’re sure the first time Anastasia saw the castle, it became her dream home. The place is similar to the aesthetic background graphics of the game and it was always described as beautiful by all the characters. And it really is that way.   But this is also the place of her demise and possibly yours.    You’re sure the only time you’ll be able to enjoy the palace and be this carefree is right now.   You’re admiring the blooming carnations, peony and roses as you turn the corner. The figure standing by the sprouting fountain doesn’t register until after a delayed moment and your eyes lift to see a woman — mysterious in her gray dress. It’s simple attire, but the fabrics are layered on top of one another, light enough that they drape down and flow to the breeze. Her brunette hair is tied into a bun and as if she feels the pressure of your eyes, her bright irises turn towards you.   You realize you’re staring and you blink several times, approaching her politely.    She pulls her charcoal shawl closer to her and smiles. The light wrinkles around her kind eyes crease. “Are you lost, child?”   You shake your head. “No. I’m just looking.”   She crouches down to match your height, gazing at you tenderly. “Where are your parents?”   “My dad’s talking to the King.” You point off in the distance as curiosity eats at you. She doesn’t look like an ordinary worker but not a visitor of the castle either. “I’m Anastasia.”   She searches your expression as if she’s endeared by you. “That’s a beautiful name.”   “Thanks! Who’re you?”   She’s soft-spoken, voice above a quiet murmur, “My name is Erena Robane.”   You frown. The name rings a bell. “Lady Robane?”   “No.” Her laugh tinkles. “I’m no lady.”    Before you can press your mind any further and pick apart your brain at why her name sounds so familiar, she reaches into the small pouch she was carrying and hands you a wrapped piece of candy. “Would you like one?”   Your eyes light up at the pink square. “Yes, please!”    You know better, as an internal twenty seven year old, than to take candy from strangers, but the Duke and Duchess never give you any sweets. So you’ll happily take what you can.   Erena smiles and drops the treat into your outstretched palm.   Not wanting to risk getting it confiscated by Edith, Joan or your mother if you brought it home, you quickly unwrap it and throw it into your mouth. It’s peppermint and it’s pretty damn good.   The woman looks at you patiently, waiting for a reaction, so you give her a thumbs up and a “Yummy!”   She laughs faintly. “Do you like candy?”   “Yep!” You hold out both hands as if you’re trick-or-treating. “Can I have another one, please?”   Might as well seize the chance while you can. It’s a dog-eat-dog world.    “You have very good manners.” She smiles, taking another out of her endless pouch and dropping it in your hand. Oh man, you’re starting to really like this lady. “My son likes chocolate, but I only managed to get candy for today.”   You chew the hard candy in your cheek, crunching down on it. You hope it rots your teeth and makes Edith’s life a living nightmare when she has to deal with it. “Your son?”   Her lips part to speak. But she’s interrupted—   “Mom?”   By sheer coincidence and coincidence itself, a boy with floppy, brown hair turns the corner of the garden. Thin lips, but chubby cheeks and bright eyes of deep mocha. You’ve known him the second your eyes have laid on him. A younger form of the person you fear most.   Taehyung.   You gasp and immediately spin around, hoping he didn’t see you, pretending you didn’t see him.   “I have to go now!”    Before Taehyung’s mom can utter another word, you run away. You don’t notice how Taehyung slows as well, brows furrowed at your receding form.   To see Jungkook is one thing. But to see Taehyung, the one who will use, coerce and lead you to your doom, is another. Jungkook handed down your judgment, but Taehyung is the one who led you there.   He’s the villain.   //   “You did decently,” your mother informs a few days after the whole affair. “We might have to go to the palace more often from now on.”   You nod, unable to dwell in her approval, mind still lost in a daze.    Taehyung — a half prince born a year before Jungkook. He has the blood of a royal with his father as the King, but his mother is merely a palace maid. You remember that he seeks revenge for her death after she’s poisoned by the jealous Queen.   But if she’s still alive, that means it’ll happen soon.   This year.    Springtime.    You’re slowly recalling the details of the event, the catalyst that begins Taehyung’s descent into madness, how he became the game’s villain. But you can’t involve yourself. You just can’t.   You shouldn’t have met any of them in the first place.   You shouldn’t get entangled in their story, in their lives. If you want to live, if you want to survive, you have to avoid Taehyung at all costs. So you can’t. You can’t. Can’t.   A day passes as you focus on your studies.   You can’t.   Another two days goes by, six meals eaten.   Can’t—   On the seventh, your silver spoon clanks noisily against the porcelain bowl, slipping from your grasps, dropping downwards in your deep trance that throbs your temples. Joan turns at the ruckus and you look at her, already standing up.   “I have to go to the castle.”   The guilt eating at you has won its battle.    “Pardon me?”   “Today. Right now.” You rush out of the room and down the hall, determination set in your strides. Maybe you can avoid this. Maybe if you do, he won’t become the game’s villain. Then he won’t be a threat to you, and you won’t be a threat to anyone. You’ll live and so will his mom who’s done nothing wrong.   The maid struggles to catch up to you. “My lady! Please! Wait! What do you mean?”   “I forgot something really important!”   “Y-You can’t just go. My lady! You must ask permission from the Duke and Duchess!”   “There’s no time to.” You’ve never been more serious and somber. There isn’t an inch of mischief, no childish selfishness. Twenty seven years has amounted to this very moment. And you use your status as the Duke’s daughter to command the girl. “Come with me. If the Duke or Duchess gets mad, I’ll take the blame.”   Joan sighs, annoyed as she looks around as if someone else could reason with you. But as you turn to her, looking her dead in the eye, she shifts on her feet and hesitantly calls for a carriage.   You’re in it before you can blink again.   There must be time. There hasn’t been any news yet. No reports of a death in the castle.   You can warn him. You can avoid this tragedy.    “We’re here, my lady,” Joan informs, peering out the window at the enormous stone walls and towers looming high above the clouds. The carriage doors open and she guides you out.    Your feet land onto the cobblestone.    But there isn’t any welcome. No guards that ask what your business here is. No servant passing by.   Instead, there’s chaos in the distance.    Your head whips to the noise and Joan shouts as you dash off towards it. Yet no one notices you in the midst of the pandemonium. No one would pay mind to a small child. You’re left to linger in the open halls, butlers that quickly walk past, maids whispering amongst themselves—   “Did you hear?”   Your head turns towards two girls.   “The King’s mistress just died!”   You came a moment too late.

No one cries.   The arrangement is short and unluxurious, the bare minimum of what would be acceptable for a royal family. A priestess in front drones on impassively about the afterlife, but as you look around, no one grieves. After all, they wouldn’t shed tears for a mere maid.    This is merely a charade to quell away scandalous rumors and to give nobles an excuse to come to the castle and be acknowledged.   You’re overwhelmed in black, a tulle skirt and puffed sleeves. Your parents stand on either side of you, your father in a jacket with the house’s emblem and your mother with a veil covering the right side of her face. Like many others, your family has come for appearance sakes.   But for you, it’s different.   The woman inside the closed casket has shown you a kindness that you so seldom receive.   And because of your hesitation, because of your self-preservation and selfishness, this happened.   Once the burial ceremony is over, your parents mingle amongst the nobles, laughing cordially behind gloved hands as you follow after them and cutesy. It feels like you’re a show pony, brought around to show what the future of the Devereux looks like.   But after a while, you manage to slip away from the scrutiny.    And by sheer coincidence and coincidence only, you find him.   At first it’s the noise of heart wrenching sobs. It’s unrestrained wails and choked hiccups in between that attracts your attention. You twist through the familiar hedge corridors and the moment you turn the corner, your eyes lift to a small figure underneath an oak tree.    He sits alone. He cries to himself.    The boy with floppy, brown hair has his knees pulled together. He incessantly rubs at his eyes as if that alone could stop the tears that well and pour. He cries enough for the tens of people at the funeral, substituting their apathy with his anguish. His entire body wracks and the moment he whimpers “m-mom” in-between, it’s shaking to your core.    This is the beginning. The start of his path of destruction.   In this entire castle that stretches across the horizon, only his mother ever loved him. The half-prince. The Forgotten Prince. The one dirtied by regular red blood, not blue enough for the golden crown.   Taehyung mourns, vision blurred by his grief.   But as he rubs his eyes with his small fists, black shoes appear between the gaps of his hands.   He looks up. Your arm is extended in front of him.    Taehyung looks down to your folded, pink handkerchief. He looks stunned for a moment, as if he’s surprised that there was someone here. That someone actually heard him. That someone came.   He takes your handkerchief and sniffles.   “I’m sorry,” you murmur.    Sorry that she passed away, that he has to endure this, that you didn’t save her when you could’ve.   This isn’t just a game you’re playing anymore. All these people aren’t just characters.   You’re living a new life. And all these people have emotions, desires, thoughts of their own.   You’re not sure how you can comfort Taehyung. What you can say to make it better. “Your mother loved you a lot. I’m sure she wouldn’t want you to be crying so much by yourself.”   He hiccups, snivelling uncontrollably. “B-But if I don’t cry for her, who will?”   You don’t know what to say.   Tears continue to slip down his cheeks and as you linger awkwardly, you decide there isn’t much that you can say. So you sit beside him. You sit underneath the canopy of the tree and branches of rustling leaves, on the soft bed of grass, looking out at the garden.    This is all you can do.   You don’t notice the way Taehyung looks up in-between his mourning, glossy eyes pinpointed on the profile of your face.    The pair of you sit next to one another in the silence of his sniffles until it levels. Until he can breathe again—   “Anastasia!”   There’s a sharp call of your name, one that can only belong to your mother. You immediately come to your feet again as if a dog whistle has been blown. But as you hurry away, you turn over your shoulder. Your eyes connect with Taehyung’s brown ones, and for a moment you slow.   You leave a second later.   You twist down the hedges and turn the corner, nearly bumping straight into her. She looks down at you with her brows furrowed. “Where did you go?”   You smile. “I got lost.”   It’s futile. You know it now.   Trying to avoid the three that will lead you to your demise is like trying to wish you’d suddenly vanish off these lands. You know it won’t be the last time that you see Taehyung. It won’t be the last of Jungkook either. Or whoever the heroine will be. It seems like the more you try to run, the more you inadvertently become involved. But you’ll hold your head up high and face whatever is to come head on.