#where i can sit and smoke and spin in the evenings

[milkweedman]

Made a very scrappy little wind chime out of failed spindles. Some of them were too twisted to spin, some I made before I learnt how to off center the tips correctly, and some I just fucked up while making. It's not very windy today but generally it's super windy here, so I'm lookin forward to hearing them. They're very low and melodic. Also strung up some new lights, swept 8 months of winter debris off the back porch, put up a little tapestry, cleaned off the chairs and table... did another wind chime with the absurd amount of random keys we have which dont go to anything and which just make it really hard to find the right key, altho im having a hard time getting it to sound, so i might need to redo that one.

#1 most important thing in the summer to me is having a pretty back yard with lights strung up #where i can sit and smoke and spin in the evenings #dandelions are suddenly in full bloom as well. so beautiful all of a sudden #words cannot express how glad i am that its no longer winter #we didnt get spring its just summer now lol #7-8 months of winter n then 4-5 months of summer. miserable. i hate oregon with a burning passion #literally everything about it sucks so bad ❤ #one day i will live somewhere warm again where it doesnt rain 200+ days of the year

[gaythreadrunner]

so you're taking care of your computer's software health. NICE! but what about its physical health?

because yes, computers do need the occasional real-world checkup to make sure that they're running well. but what exactly does that entail? i see many posts about maintaining software health: limit your browser tabs, ensure your antiviruses are working properly, so on and so forth, but checking the physical components is something i sparsely see discussed here.

so what's the deal with physical maintenance? well, have you ever had your computer hack and wheeze trying to keep up even if your OS and all your drivers are up to date and functioning? if you've never opened up your computer before, you may be shocked to find just how FILTHY it can get in there:

take a closer look at that snout dust! PTOOEY .. BLECKH

computers are much more likely to accumulate internal dust if they're sitting on the floor, and especially if they're near any vents and/or if you have pets.

ok, you've figured out how to open your device and now you're staring at the second coming of the dust bowl in your gaming rig. what now? let's explore some basic cleaning tips, deep cleaning pointers for your CPU/GPU, and tips to help keep maintain your computer's physical health in the future.

first of all, turn off your computer and unplug it (for my computer, i turn it off, turn off the PSU switch, unplug it, and then press the power button for about 30 seconds to drain the capacitors and minimize static risk)

generally, you're gonna want to have THESE items:

some sort of face mask (dust masks are best, but anything that'll help keep the harmful dust out of your lungs will generally work)

a can of compressed air (or an electric duster if you're ~fancy~. they look and function like turbo blowdryers)

a vacuum will be useful if there's a LOT of dust, best to use in combination with an anti-static cleaning kit

if you ARE gonna use a vacuum, spray every attachment you use with an anti-static spray. disturbing large amounts of dust creates a lot of static, and electronics are very sensitive to that.

it's never a bad idea to grab an grounding wristband as well, but as long as you wear loose clothes and always keep some part of your skin in contact with the case, you should be ok. (i don't know how much this applies to laptops and smaller devices, since the cases for those are typically plastic)

if there's staining (like from smoke) or there's more gunk caked on than you thought, you can gently clean electronic components with a brush/paper towel/microfiber and medical-grade isopropyl alcohol ONLY. do not use any other cleaning alcohols for this task.

before you do anything, TAKE THAT FUCKER OUTSIDE! always clean a dusty device where the wind can carry that shit away, because oh my GOD will it fuck up your lungs like crazy. (that, and compressed air cans have fluorocarbons in them, which isn't great to breathe in either)

most of the time, you'll probably be fine just using an air duster. for compressed air cans, spray the dirty surfaces in short bursts. an electric duster can be constantly blown. when dusting fans, make sure that you're holding the blades still as to not accidentally make them spin too fast (ESPECIALLY with an electric duster!), since that can damage the mechanism that makes them spin.

however, if there's a lot of dust, it may be better to give it a vacuuming first. anything from a handheld to a shop vac will work, and attachments with brushes on the end will help tons with loosening up even more dust. and of course ALWAYS make sure that you're spraying any attachments with anti-static spray, and keep a hand on the case of the computer to electrically ground yourself since the hose will be in contact with the internals.

if there's any left over, give it a blast with the duster.

in some rare cases, there may be some extra gunk caked onto the internals, and you may have to really get your hands in there or take components out individually. if you don't have an anti static wristband (the ones with an alligator clip) do your best to ALWAYS keep your skin in contact with the case as you're finagling around in there.

it's probably a good idea to have disposable gloves on for this. grab your isopropyl and towel of choice (microfiber is ideal, but dirtier PCs may need disposable paper/shop towels), soak it a little bit, and gently scrub off the gunk n' grime as needed.

with heat sinks specifically, since they're just big blocks of metal, they're the one part of a component that can be cleaned under water. if a dusting doesn't suffice, gently scrub it with a brush under warm, soapy water, rinse thoroughly, and let it dry on a towel for a few hours before reassembling it into the electronic components.

if there's still little bits stuck in the radiator fins, stick an isopropyl-soaked q-tip in there to push it out.

the dust settles, everything's put back together, and it's all clean in there again. YAY!!!!! but what if you're still experiencing temperature problems? well, it typically comes down to either the CPU or GPU:

IF ITS THE CPU: if you took off the cooler to clean it, then i hope you remembered to dab some fresh thermal paste on there. you should be replacing thermal paste few years, otherwise it dries out and loses its effectiveness.

the type you use makes a huge difference too; i like to use arctic's mx-4, it has excellent thermal conductivity while still being an electrical insulator, so spillover isn't a problem. if you go for a liquid metal compound, please do your research first, since some of them can run the risk of corroding the cooler pipes and/or the CPU's outer casing.

to replace thermal paste, make sure that the crusty old paste is sufficiently scrubbed off the contact points of both the CPU and cooler. again, use isopropyl for this. once it's all cleaned off, put about a pea-sized amount of paste on the CPU and carefully lower the cooler onto the mounting bracket before fastening it in place. (also it really doesn't matter how you put the paste on, as long as it ends up covering most of the contact area)

also if you're still using the cooler your CPU came with, you should probably get a better cooler. especially if you're doing gaming or using graphically/mathematically intensive software. sorry. the stock coolers that most CPUs come with are mid as hell. you can get a nice ARGB one for less than 20 USD i promise its worth it

IF ITS THE GPU: like CPUs, your graphics card also needs to have its thermal paste cleaned out and replaced every so often. but they also utilize a second thermal material called thermal pads. these are usually made of either silica gel or a very thick clay-like grease, and come in different thicknesses. my favoured pads are owltree's 12.8w grease pads, the assorted pack comes with enough for about 4-5 GPUs.

taking apart a GPU seems scary, and understandably so; they're incredibly expensive and hard-working pieces of technology! but i've done it twice now, and it's actually surprisingly simple (as long as you keep track of all the damn screws... im lucky there's a magnetized screw mat in the house i can use)

i recommend watching a deep clean/teardown video of the GPU model you have before digging into it yourself. generally, they separate into 4 distinct portions: the outer shell, the heatsink, the board, and the backplate.

the shell contains the fans and any possible RGB elements. it'll have 1-2 controllers plugged into the board, one for the fans and one for the lighting elements if there are any. once the case is unscrewed, unplug these connectors with a firm squeeze and tug.

these tend to be surprisingly dusty on the inside, so it's probably a good idea to blast it with a duster. again, make sure to hold the fans so they don't overspin. you can also remove the fans from the shell and clean them individually if you'd like.

the heatsink is BIG and heavy, and you can do all the same stuff here that you would with a CPU cooler heatsink. it may take a bit of effort to tug off if the thermal materials are really making it stick to the board. once it's off, scrub the old thermal paste, blast it with a duster, and wash under soapy water if needed before rinsing thoroughly and leaving it to dry for a while.

the backplate is just a flat piece of metal that protects the back side of the board. usually all this will need is a simple wipedown.

the board is where all the magic happens, and will usually have a layout that's something like this:

clean up as needed; gently scrub off old thermal paste, scrape off the old thermal pads (but take close note of how thick they are so you can replace them with the correct pads), and brush/wipe down the dust and grease on each side as needed. take care to avoid touching the PCIe connector too much (the bar of golden pins that juts out from the bottom)

thermal padding varies from card to card (i recommend checking thermal pad placements for your gpu in water cooling guides, even if you're not doing water cooling) but it's typically gonna be on THESE spots:

the VRAM chips surrounding the die (main chip) along with the small black chips next to the capacitors will require thermal pads the most. cut each one to size, carefully peel off the plastic films, and press each piece onto the chips.

now you can grab your thermal paste and put some on that big shiny die. now take your freshly pasted/padded board and CAREFULLY lower it back onto the heatsink. i highly suggest having a good source of lightning for this, since shifting around the pieces too much trying to get them to align properly can displace the thermal pads and mess with how the paste spreads.

screw the heatsink tight to the board, and double check to make sure that the pads and paste are snug against the heat sink. now put the backplate and shell back on and BAM YOU'RE DONE! with the paste and pads i used, i was able to bring down the temperature of my cards by a good 10-15 °C.

ok you've done all this deep cleaning shit and your computer is happy and healthy. what can you do for your computer's health in the future?

DUST AT LEAST ONCE A YEAR. haul that thang outside and spray that shit out to stop it from building up for too long.

KEEP IT OFF THE FLOOR. if you can, of course, not everyone has the desk room for it. computers accumulate dust easier when they're close to the floor. if you do need to keep it on the floor, you might have to dust it every 6-8 months rather than once a year.

AND STOP PUTTING YOUR LAPTOPS ON SOFT SURFACES I SWEAR TO GOD

GET A FAN CONTROLLER. motherboards are DOGSHIT at maintaining fan speeds!!!! there are physical fan hubs that use controller software, but if you can't afford that, fancontrol by rem0o is a stellar software-only option.

IF YOU DON'T ALREADY HAVE CASE FANS, GET THEM. the number of fans depends on the motherboard form factor your case can accommodate (ATX cases typically have 6-8), but having that air circulation is very important to maintaining ideal temperatures. arctic makes fantastic budget-friendly fans.

IF YOU HAVE AN NVMe HARD DRIVE: please put an aluminum heat sink on that thang. they get toasty :(

OK THATS IT I THINK. if anyone else has tips they wanna add, go right on ahead. ok thank you bye your computer will love you

#sprite.exe

[pucksandpower]

Fit for a Queen

Stand-alone Charles Leclerc x Reader / Lewis Hamilton x Reader / Toto Wolff x Reader / Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: all the ways that you partner loves to spoil you (a compilation of unrelated stories)

Charles Leclerc: His and Hers

You’re parked by the side of a winding road, smoke pouring out from the hood of your old car. As you curse the bad timing, your phone lights up. It’s a call from your boyfriend.

“Hey mon ange, I saw on the tracker that you’ve stopped. Everything alright?”

You sigh, “Not really. My car has decided to give up on life. I’m stranded.”

There’s a brief pause. “Where are you?”

“I was driving back from that little cafe we love in Nice.”

“I’m on my way. Wait for me,” Charles says and before you can protest the line goes dead.

True to his word, in less than twenty minutes, a sleek black Ferrari pulls up in front of you. The window rolls down to reveal Charles’ concerned face. “Need a ride?” He teases.

You laugh, your worries momentarily forgotten. “Always showing off, aren’t you?”

He grins, “Get in.”

Over the next few days, he insists you borrow his Ferrari. “It suits you,” he often remarks with a wink. Every morning, you’re met with the thrill of driving that beast, the roar of the engine, the luxury of the leather seats, the admiring and envious looks from strangers.

It’s heady.

One evening, after a particularly long day, you return home to find Charles waiting for you in the garage. Parked next to his car is a red Ferrari 488 Pista, a striking stripe in the colors of your home country’s flag running down the middle.

“What’s this?” You ask, your heart racing.

“For you,” he replies with a smile. “Figured you needed an upgrade.”

You’re stunned. “Charles ... this is too much.”

He steps closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. “Nothing is too much for you. I love seeing the way your eyes light up when you drive. I wanted to give you that every day.”

Your eyes tear up, overwhelmed. “Thank you, mon amour.”

He pulls you in, his lips capturing yours as he presses you against the Ferrari. “How about we take it for a spin?” He murmurs against your lips. “And maybe ... christen the new car?”

A playful smirk tugs at your lips as you nod in agreement, “I can think of a few ways to show you how much I appreciate the gift.”

Lewis Hamilton: Knight in Shining Armor

“What do you mean they’re foreclosing?” Your voice trembles as you pace the living room of your boyfriend’s penthouse.

“I’m so sorry, my darling. We tried to keep up with the payments but after your father’s medical bills ... it just became too much.” Your mother’s voice is heavy with guilt and despair.

Tears sting your eyes. “We’ll figure something out. I promise.” You end the call, sliding down the wall to sit on the marble floor, overwhelmed.

A discreet cough interrupts your thoughts and you glance up to find Lewis standing in the doorway, looking concerned. You didn’t even see him come in. How much did he hear?

“Babe, are you okay?” He asks softly, approaching you.

You wipe away your tears, attempting to put on a brave face. “It’s just family stuff. I’ll handle it.”

Lewis crouches down in front of you, his fingers gently tilting your chin up. “Talk to me.”

Taking a deep breath, you explain, “My family’s house ... the bank is foreclosing on it. It’s the home I grew up in, Lew. All those memories ...”

He pulls you into his arms as you break down again despite your best efforts, “I’m so sorry.”

A few days pass and you’re doing your best to focus on finding a solution when Lewis calls you into his office. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlook Port Hercules but you barely notice, still lost in your churning thoughts. A series of documents are spread out on the desk.

“What’s all this?” You ask, curiosity piqued.

“Just take a look,” Lewis urges with a gentle smile.

You start reading and realization hits. The paperwork states that the mortgage on your family’s home has been fully paid off. You look up at Lewis, incredulous. “Did you ...”

He shrugs modestly, “I overheard your phone call. How could I not help? That house means the world to you. And all it took was a few phone calls to make sure your family could keep it.”

You’re speechless, tears of gratitude spilling over. “Lew, this is ... I can’t believe you did this for me.”

He reaches out, tucking a stray hair behind your ear. “I love spoiling you but it’s not just about luxury trips or designer clothes. It’s about making sure you and your family are safe and happy. Knowing I’m the reason for the smile on your face … that’s the best gift I could ever ask for in return.”

You hug him tight, overwhelmed by his gesture, and bury your face in his neck. “Thank you. This means more than words can express.”

He kisses your forehead. “Anything for you, love.”

Toto Wolff: Still Bejeweled

The ornate chandeliers of the luxurious Parisian boutique cast reflections from the exquisite jewelry on display. Toto’s hand rests lightly on the small of your back as you peruse the selection, clearly lost in the artistry of each piece.

“That will look stunning on you,” Toto observes as you admire a necklace with delicate diamonds cascading down, each gleaming brighter than the last.

You laugh, “I haven’t even tried it on yet.”

His confident smirk remains. “Doesn’t matter. I can tell.”

On impulse, you ask the sales associate to let you try it on. As it settles around your neck, you can’t help but be mesmerized by its beauty.

Toto steps closer, appreciating the way it lays against your skin. “It’s perfect. Let’s take it.”

You feel a flutter of excitement but reality sets in. “How much is it?”

Toto immediately interjects, “It doesn't matter, we’ll—”

“€290,000. From the Pluie de Cartier collection,” the sales associate replies with a practiced smile.

Your heart sinks. It’s astronomical. You gently take the necklace off. “It’s beautiful but not for me.”

Toto looks at you, eyes filled with an earnest plea. “Let me get it for you.”

You shake your head firmly, “No, Toto. It’s too way much.”

He sighs, a mix of frustration and understanding. “You’re worth every penny and more.”

You smile, touched by his words. “I appreciate it but I’m just not comfortable with you spending that much money on me.”

He nods, respecting your wishes, but the disappointment in his eyes is evident. After browsing a bit more, the two of you make your way out of the store, the necklace you both fell in love with left behind.

Life with Toto is a whirlwind of races, galas, and stolen intimate moments. The necklace, though unforgettable, fades to the back of your mind.

One evening, after a particularly lovely dinner, Toto guides you to the master bedroom you both share. The city lights outside cast a gentle glow and at the foot of your bed is a small red box.

Curious, you open the embellished leather to find the same necklace you had admired weeks ago. Tears spring to your eyes as you spin around to face your partner.

“You didn’t …”

Toto kneels before you as your shaky legs collapse backwards to sit on the bed. “I know you said you didn’t want it. But every time I saw it, I imagined it on you. I saw the glimmer in your eyes when you tried it on. It’s where it belongs.”

You shiver as he takes the necklace from your hands and gently puts it around your neck, his fingers tracing your skin as he locks the clasps together. “Toto, I ... thank you.”

He smiles, placing a tender kiss on your lips. “I just want you to have everything your heart desires.”

You lean into his embrace, the feeling of truly being cherished sending warmth through your whole body. “I already do.”

Max Verstappen: Jet Setters

You’re reclined on the couch, leafing through a magazine with one hand while petting Sassy with the other, when a sudden craving strikes. That gelato from Milan, the one you have whenever you are there with Max for the Italian Grand Prix. The mere thought has your mouth watering.

Seeing your restless expression, Max puts down his tablet and raises an eyebrow. “You alright, schatje?”

You sigh dramatically, cradling your pregnant belly. “I’m craving that gelato we had in Milan. Nothing else will do.”

He chuckles, “Are you serious?”

You nod, trying to suppress a smile. “Very.”

Without missing a beat, Max picks up his phone. “Alright. Milan it is, then.”

You laugh, thinking he’s joking, but within hours, you’re aboard a private jet, Milan-bound. The luxurious interior, plush seats, and array of gourmet snacks would be the highlight for most but your mind is firmly stuck on that gelato.

As the jet descends, the sprawling Lombard countryside greets you. Max holds your hand, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin. “Anything for my girls,” he promises, placing a kiss on your forehead and then your belly.

The car waiting for you outside speeds through the crowded streets, bringing you to the familiar storefront in Centro Storico. The owner, recognizing you both, greets you with a wide smile and hands over multiple coolers filled with your favorite flavor that Max called ahead for.

Back on the jet, Milan a fading dot in the distance, you sit contentedly savoring each spoonful as Max watches with a tender smile on his face.

“You could have had any gelato in the world and you chose this one,” he teases.

You grin, “Just like I chose you.”

He leans in, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. “And I would fly with you to the ends of the earth just to keep that smile on your face.”

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #toto wolff x reader #max verstappen x reader #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #charles leclerc imagine #lewis hamilton imagine #toto wolff imagine #max verstappen imagine #f1blr #f1 x y/n #f1 x female reader #charles leclerc #lewis hamilton #toto wolff #max verstappen #formula 1 #formula one

[ludwig-van-gaythoven]

Cabin Fever - (Regina George x F Reader) Part 2

Fandom;

Mean Girls (2024)

Pairings:

Regina George x Reader

Summary:

The students of Northshore go on a school trip for a week in the forest. You end up getting to know the apex predator in a way you’d never seen her before.

Warnings;

Underage smoking, underage drinking, ED mentions.

Parts

Part 1// Part 2//

Regina doesn’t say a word to you, or even glance your way.

She storms in and throws her bag down onto the bed next to yours, sweeping your clothes onto the floor with her hand. You open you mouth to protest but she cuts you off.

“Not a word, loser.”

Loser means she hasn’t got anything specific against you. No blackmail material, no weird rumours. Loser is a good place to be.

You sit on your bed and watch in silence as she starts to replace the pillows on the bed with her own pink pillows and satin blanket. She takes up over half the drawers for her own clothes, moving yours into a single pile at the bottom of the shared wardrobe. She puts her makeup and toothbrush, both varying shades of pink in the bathroom. She’s marking her territory.

“Don’t touch my shit.” She scowls, flips her hair and swiftly leaves the cabin. Her faint vanilla scent lingers in the air. It’s both intoxicating and sickly.

You wait a few minutes before you leave too, just to make sure you don’t accidentally bump into her and make yourself a target. The last thing you want is to be Regina’s plaything of the week.

Todays activity would be orienteering. You stand around the campfire pit, avoiding the crowd, waiting for instruction on where to go.

“Please stay in your room groups, follow the map you’ve been given. You’ll be taken to where your group will be starting, just follow the map back to camp. Everyone understand?”

There are excited chatters as everyone groups up with their friends. Unfortunately for you, the crowd parts to reveal Regina who’s giving you a look like she might murder you in the woods and leave you there.

You wait, in silence, next to Regina, for a camp member to pick you up in a jeep and drive through the forest to your particular starting point.

“Please don’t make me, don’t leave me here. I’m too pretty for this” Regina whines as the keep drives away, leaving you both stranded in a clearing.

Against better judgement you decide to speak. “I’m sorry you couldn’t go with Karen and Gretchen.”

“Whatever, just give me the map.” She snaps and snatches it from your hands. Wordlessly she stomps off through the trees. You have no option but to follow like a lost puppy.

As it happens, Regina isn’t a great map reader. And lots of the forest looks identical which makes it even harder. Your feet start to ache, you feel like you’ve been walking in circles for the past couple of hours.

“Can I please just look quickly, I trust you know where we’re going but I think I should still just look at the map” you try to reason which was clearly an awful move because she starts to turn around slowly to face you.

She moves,she’s stalking you like prey as she comes towards you.

“Are you calling me dumb?” She growls.

You shake your head, suddenly unable to speak, afraid that any sound past your lips would make her pounce.

“I’m reading the map, loser. I don’t want to be stuck out here any longer than necessary.” She spins around and continues her forward march through the forest.

This is going to be a long day.

It’s been hours since you or Regina said a word to each other, and hours since you started walking. You hadn’t stopped for a break. You managed to eat an apple while you walked, throwing the core into a bush but Regina hadn’t taken her hands off of the map to eat, drink or give you a look at where you were going.

You felt for your box of cigarettes in your pocket. Regina probably wouldn’t turn around or notice, and you needed one now, Regina is really starting to test your patience. Just as you put the cigarette to your lips ready to light ,Regina’s knee buckles and she trips slightly, heading straight for the ground.

Instinctively you go to catch her, both hands under her arms.

“Get off me weirdo.” She barks but it comes out a little more strained than usual. She’s gone pale and there’s a sheen of sweat across her perfect forehead. Somehow she’s still effortlessly beautiful.

She pushes herself up and tries to keep walking but her legs start to falter again and you rush forward again and catch her as she faints.

You try calling her name, shaking her gently, offering her water but nothing brings her round. Her hands feel cold.

Fuck.

In a panic you call the emergency number a teacher had given you and someone says they’ll come to collect you both in a jeep and administer first aid.

Regina comes round before the jeep arrives and you can feel the anger and embarrassment radiating off her. You try and think of something to say. She doesn’t speak to you the entire way back.

Everyone stares as they see you both come back to camp after being picked up but Regina plays it off well, bragging that she even gets treated like royalty here. You admire her ability to make quick excuses, and to be honest she still looks like royalty. Beautiful blonde hair cascading past her shoulders, icy blue eyes, sweet vanilla scent, outfit still perfect. Only you noticed the lingering sweat, the nervous look in her eye and the slight grass stain on the back of her jacket.

When the car stops Regina gets out and immediately goes to find Gretchen and Karen to sit together for dinner. Half of you is glad she’s gone, she was starting to get irritating, but you also want to make sure she’s okay. You go back to the table you were at before, you can’t help but watch her again.

Just making sure she’s okay, you repeat to yourself.

This time you watch her eat closely, notice she picks up food and when her friends aren’t looking and drops it under the bench onto the dusty floor. You wonder if that’s why she fainted earlier. You’re not sure why the thought of that makes you angry, and a knot forms in your stomach. It makes it hard to finish your food.

When dinner is over the teachers watch the three girls closely, making sure they go back to their newly assigned cabins. All three comply which means there’s a moody Regina heading your way.

You sit on your bed and pretend not to hear the door open, and keep your eyes fixed on your phone, pretending to read or maybe scroll social media.

The giveaway is that you forgot to let out the breath you were holding.

“If you tell anyone what happened I will ruin your life.”

You just nod, not daring to look up at her until you hear her lay on her bed and roll so she’s facing the wall away from you.

Then you allow your eyes to look at the sleeping lioness, her breathing seems slow. Maybe she’s asleep.

Your eyes trace down her curves- that is dangerous territory. You look away sharply just incase somehow she knows you’re looking.

She’s probably asleep.

You reach over to your bag and try and pull out your switch as quietly as possible. Mario kart, that’ll take your mind off of Regina.

You’re on your third lap when you feel the bed move and smell that addicting, warm vanilla scent.

“What is that you’re playing, dweeb?” It’s like she can’t even ask a normal question without it being insulting.

“Mario kart? Have you never played Mario kart?” You question her, meeting her gaze which seems slightly less intense than usual. To be honest, you can’t really picture someone like Regina playing a dorky game like Mario.

You disconnect the joy cons and throw one at her. She gives you a wary, icy look and picks up one of the controllers, scooting closer while still maintaining a large gap between you both.

You’re disappointed for some reason.

She obviously picks peach, and the pinkest cart, completely ignoring its stats which makes you giggle to yourself. You play as Bowser.

The first race you explain the controls to her, she picks it up quite quickly but you have years of experience on her and win.

She pouts and sends a glare your way. You stick your tongue out.

She giggles, Regina giggles and it might be the best sound you’ve heard. You definitely want to hear more. She doesn’t seem threatening like this. How much of Regina was an act?

The second race, she loses again, you win but not by too much, she’s definitely getting better. When you look over at her, her brows are furrowed and she’s completely lost in the game now, determined to win. The way she licks her lips when she’s concentrating makes you blush, and you’re glad she doesn’t look up.

The third game is nearly neck and neck but you beat her again. She finally snaps.

“What the fuck, you gave me a shit controller! I could have beat you!” She yells.

“Not my fault you suck at Mario kart.” You quip back bravely. She also sucks at losing apparently.

Suddenly she springs up and pounces, desperately trying to grab the controller off of you, but you hold on. You nearly forget why you’re holding it, mostly you’re squeezing the controller to distract yourself from Regina’s hair tickling your face, her lips being so close, her knees either side of your thighs.

She puts up a good fight but you start to see that familiar sheen of sweat and she seems cold and clammy all of a sudden. She must notice this because she huffs out a whatever and gets up, wobbling to her bed.

You miss everything about her suddenly, that one hit of the real Regina was enough to have you addicted.

She lays again, but this time face up, trying to control her breathing. You realise she’s on the verge of passing out again.

“I have a cereal bar in my bag, I don’t want it, you’re welcome to have it.”

She huffs and looks at you.

“I’m not accepting food from anyone after that stunt Cady Heron pulled. Who knows, you might be giving me a bar of lard.” She spits, but you can tell even speaking is hard for her now.

“It was just an offer.” You reply quietly.

Once she’s steadied herself again she stands and rummage through her bag, pulling out a half empty bottle of vodka and 2 plastic cups. She pours 2 shots worth into both and fills it with a fizzy orange mixer. She hands you a cup.

“You better not get too drunk and puke and get me into trouble like Karen.” She says as she takes a sip.

You both drink in silence for a while. The alcohol makes you feel warm and fuzzy, and a little too calm in Regina’s presence.

“Why don’t I know you?” Regina suddenly breaks the silence.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you’re not a new student, so why don’t I know you, I don’t know what you’re about.” She leans towards you like she’s inspecting you.

“I don’t know I just stay out of the drama.” You answer truthfully.

“Huh, boring answer.” She says taking another drink. “You’re friends with Pyro Lez though, that’s not exactly staying out of it.”

You shake your head “I only started hanging with them after that whole mess. Me and Janis have a mutual interest.”

“Is it girls?”

You stutter for a moment and see a glimpse of intrigue flash across Regina’s face.

“It’s art.”

You haven’t lied. That’s what connected you and Janis in the first place, it was a lucky dodge to the question.

She’s staring at you with an unreadable expression and you decide to stand awkwardly and get your cigarettes. You need a break from Regina, this feels all too much like she’s trying to uncover your weak spot.

It’s hard to tell what’s genuine or not.

You sneak outside to your spot from last night and light the cigarette, inhaling deeply, mostly from the butterflies in your stomach, bouncing around your rib cage.

Obviously you noticed Regina at school, who didn’t? But you’ve never had this much interaction with her. You can see why people fall victim to her so easily, there’s a side to her that seems so real, Is this part of her trap? Maybe you’re just easy prey but the chase is feeling all too thrilling.

Everything about her draws you in, golden hair, soft lips, even her scent. Are her lips as soft as they look?

Before you can register, the cigarette is pulled from your lips as you see Regina take a drag and then place it back between your fingers.

You skin burns where her hand brushes yours.

Suddenly she reaches to grip your hand, steadying herself. She clearly feels faint again. She’s swaying slightly and she looks like she’s losing focus.

“You need to eat something.” You state bluntly.

“Whatever you don’t know me.” She spits back, but she’s still gripping your hand. She starts to lean a bit too much.

“Fuck, Regina. Okay we’re going back inside.” You have to half drag her back inside the cabin and prop her up on the bed.

You check the cabins mini fridge, you brought enough food to sustain you that week. You didn’t know if the camp would have vegan food so better safe than sorry. Luckily the cabin had a mini fridge, probably for drinks but you stored some meals in there to keep fresh, and there was a microwave in the small kitchen.

You grab a pot and throw it in the microwave. Hopefully Regina doesn’t mind mushrooms.

She’s still laying on the bed, eyes squeezed shut, trying to get the room to stop spinning. You feel momentarily guilty for drinking with her, you knew she hadn’t eaten, it was a bad idea.

The microwave pings and you grab a fork and take it over to Regina.

“I’m not eating that, it’s probably processed shit.” It comes out as a defeated sigh.

“I made it, just eat something please, passing out wouldn’t be a good look” This makes her think, and she picks up the fork and takes a bite. The whole time she’s glaring at you so you decide to sit on the bed and play on your switch again.

You don’t look up for a good half an hour. Worried that Regina will stop eating if you so much as move. Clearly the whole thing with Cady has made her wary of food. The thought makes you feel sick. The plastics may rule the school but the constant insecurity that seems to come with it is too big of a price to pay.

A quiet voice breaks the silence.

“Thank you.”

You smile slightly but still don’t look up from your game until you hear shuffling and Regina is holding your sketchbook before you have time to snatch it back.

Your heart is in your throat, you’re not sure why her possible criticism of your sketch bothers you so much.

“This is beautiful.”

You’re beautiful, you idiot why don’t you see it, you think, but don’t say it out loud.

She tears the page from your book. Great, Back to cruel Regina, tearing up anything she doesn’t see as worthy.

What you don’t expect is her folding and placing the sketch under her pillow.

“I’m tired now.” She yawns and climbs into bed, flicking the lamp next to her off.

You’re left in the dark, confused, but you can’t help the small smile that creeps across your lips.

#regina george fanfic #regina george x you #regina george #regina george x reader #mean girls fanfic #mean girls 2024 #mean girls #wlw #renee rapp

[lizthewriter]

mattheo riddle as different romance tropes

〉forbidden love  yep, you saw it! he's the dark lord's son and most likely a forced death eater. whether your muggleborn or a blood traitor or just someone who could be put in danger by his family, then you can't be together. it's hard for him not to fall in love with you, especially when you're making it so effortlessly easy. he hates it and he hates himself and he hates his stupid family but god, does he love you. he tries so hard to keep himself straight, to not veer off the path his family is so desperately trying to steer him on, but he confesses his love to you either in a hot, steamy, passionate kiss filled with pent up emotion or a calm, peaceful night spent in the astronomy tower, explaining to you how he feels but why you could never be together. either way, you don't care and make it work. your love is secretive, spontaneous, sweet, but tense at times. you two are so kind and loving towards each other but tend to argue about how to behave around each other in public. in the end, of course, the dark lord does not persevere and your relationship can survive out in the open, but know that the beginning of your relationship might be a bit tumultuous at first.

〉enemies to lovers / forced proximity  if anyone exemplifies this trope, it's mattheo. the hatred you two bare for each other is so angry and passionate it that it falls along the line of "i hate you so much i almost love you," and your friends can definitely see that. most likely the two of you would be complete opposites yet exactly the same all at once. you hate the parts of him that differ from you yet hate the parts that are similar even more, because you're supposed to be enemies, right? constant bickering, arguing, and glaring. this is where the forced proximity comes into play - i don't see forced proximity being a way you two fall in love without being enemies first. either your friends shove you in a closet together to hash those unresolved feelings towards one another, or it could be a seven minutes in heaven / spin the bottle scenario, detention, or you're forced to work on a school project together. either way, your love confession is either a passionate, angry, almost hateful kiss or something that's wholesome, pure, and totally unexpected. your love would be fiery and serious and the two of you often find solitude in spending time alone together late at night or early in the morning, when you can let bygones be bygones and simply let go.

〉fwb to lovers / pure and promiscuous what else did you think this would be? mattheo is a fuckboy and there's no denying it. he finds solace in sleeping around and smoking (not exactly healthy habits - don't try this at home kiddos!) you could be best friends and find that the two of you find release with each other or more of acquaintances, which would tie in with the "pure and promiscuous" love trope. with the later, i see you approaching mattheo in hopes that he might teach you how to - well, you know. whatever your motives are, he doesn't care, because you're beautiful (and he might have a corruption kink but we won't talk about that). i would think the love confession happens when you're sitting in bed - i don't think mattheo would be the one to bring it up, probably you. your love would be delicate, heart-warming, and wholesome. it may start out with benefits, but it grows to be something a lot more then just that.

[movie rec: 10 things i hate about you]

#— [ glizzy posts ☆ ] #mattheo riddle x you #mattheo riddle headcanons #mattheo riddle headcanon #mattheo riddle #mattheo riddle x reader #my writing #my fanfiction #fanfiction #my fic #writing #fanfic #harry potter #slytherin boys

[hope-drunk]

BITE THE HAND

| you misbehave at an important event with abby, she puts you in your place.

| wc: ~3.7k

| cw: vague plot tbh, abby's a premed major, abby smokes cigarettes, punishment, brat!tamer abby, f!reader, spanking, edging, overstimulation, degradation, oral, fingering, strap usage (all r!recieving), mean!abby, praising, mentions of aftercare but not really a full scene of it, abby gets called mommy, lmk if i'm missing something

Abby’s really pissed off; she’s genuinely infuriated. You were embarrassing her; in front of  a lot of people who mattered. Important people, who determined what was going to happen with her future. She brought you to the banquet because she wanted to share this moment with you. She wanted to show you off to her peers and brag that you were supportive, and the best girlfriend that she could ask for, but you weren’t being supportive. 

You sit yourself down to sulk; spinning your straw around in your drink. You let out an agitated sigh. It’s boring here. Not only was it boring, Abby hasn’t paid attention to you the entire night. You thought that she was going to show you off, you even bought a new dress for this! But she didn’t seem to pay you any mind.

She seemed really interested in all the other people here though. From your point of view, Abby has spent the whole night bragging to them about her accomplishments. You’ve seen her arm get rubbed in amazement more times than you can count; it didn’t matter to you that they were just being friendly, that was your arm to rub. That was your girlfriend to praise. Every time you tried to insert yourself into conversation, Abby brushed you off. If she was already treating you like you were embarrassing her; you’d do it for real. 

Abby walks over to the table you’re sitting at. “Hey, can you get up for me? Want you to meet someone.”

You look up at her. “Oh, now you want to show me off?” 

“What are you talking about? Been trying to get you to meet people all night.” She puts a hand on your shoulder and rubs it up and down; a signal for you to stand.

“I don’t want to meet anyone.”

She scoffs; puts her pointer and thumb on the bridge of her nose and squeezes. “Please, baby, I really can’t deal with this right now.”

“Fine,” You say, standing and lacing your arm through her’s.

You walk over to an older man in a tux. Abby smiles politely at him.

“Doctor Smith, I’d like you to meet my girlfriend.” She says.

You shake his hand, trying your hardest to act like you want to be there. 

“So nice to meet you. You know, you have a rather impressive girlfriend. Miss Anderson is one of the best students I’ve ever seen.”

“Yeah, she does well to remind me.” You reply. You see Abby give you a look from the corner of your eye. The look isn’t a kind, loving one. The look says be fucking polite.

Luckily for you, the Doctor laughs and pats Abby on the shoulder. “She’s a firecracker, huh!”

“That’s one word for her.” Abby says. Now it’s your turn to shoot her a look, she ignores you, continuing her conversation with the Doctor. 

After they talk about the class that Abby is in, he says goodbye to you both, walking away to mingle.

“Come here,” Abby says. Before you can even ask her where, she’s yanking your arm and dragging you behind her.

You feel like a dog being yanked by the leash, her strong arms left no room to shimmy out of her hold; forced to go where she wanted. She pulls you into a family restroom and locks the door.

“Jesus Christ! What is wrong with you? That was embarrassing!” You practically yell at her, placing your hands on your hips.

“Embarrassing? I’m embarrassing you? You’ve been a brat the whole fucking night, sitting there with a goddamn pout on your face.” Abby says back at the same volume. You’re sure if anyone walked by they could hear you, but neither of you seemed to care.

“I’m not being a brat, you’re not paying attention to me.” 

“That’s because this isn’t about you. I wanted to bring you here so I could show everyone how supportive you are; how much patience and love you show me even though I am so busy with work, but I guess they don’t get to meet that version of you!” Abby yells at you, clearly frustrated with your attitude and accusations.

You’re rendered silent. You guess you don’t know what you thought this was going to be, maybe you had a different idea of the evening than Abby did. You slowly start to realize that you may be in the wrong; that you may have created some narrative in your head that Abby was ignoring you when really, she was trying to include you.

Abby sees you thinking, “What?”

“I’m sorry.”

Abby stands in shock, but she doesn’t let it show. She turns around and rubs a hand over her face. You’ve never apologized so fast. Usually it took a lot of coaxing to make you realize that you’ve done something wrong, but not this time. “Sorry for what?” 

“For– y’know,” you wave your hands around. Saying sorry was one thing, but you know what she really wanted from you; she wanted you to say you were being a brat; that you had been bad and embarrassed her.

“No, I don’t know.”

You whine, “Abby, you do know.”

“Listen, here’s what we’re gonna do; we’re gonna stay for thirty more minutes, and then we’re going to go home, and I’m gonna make you say why you’re sorry, alright?” 

Tears well in your eyes. Abby was relentless when it came to punishments. Even if you told her what she wanted to hear after the first ten minutes, there was no stopping her. It’s like she became a completely different person. With how mad she looked, you knew you were in for it tonight. Suddenly, you want to stay at the banquet, afraid of what will happen when you step foot into your joint bedroom. 

Abby watches as you fiddle with your hands, and despite how angry she was, she takes a deep breath and walks over to you. She lifts up your chin and plants a kiss to your forehead, reminding you that no matter how much you piss her off, she’ll never stop loving you. She walks out of the bathroom, swinging the door open and extending a hand behind her so that you would grab on. You quickly lace your fingers into her’s and let her pull you out of the small room. The rest of the time you’re there, you try your hardest to stay on your best behavior. This time, it’s harder, because you’re studying your every movement to make sure it won’t piss Abby off more; scared of what the girl would do to you if you kept acting up even after the talk. You do well the rest of the night though, and when Abby says her goodbyes, you cling extra hard to her arm; looking for comfort in the girl who’s about to put you in your place.

When you get into Abby’s car, she pulls her box of cigarettes out of her glove box; grabbing one and lighting it. A familiar pop song is playing on the radio, and there’s wind blowing through Abby’s cracked open window. 

She takes a long drag and looks over at you, “You know you can say stop at any time, right?” She exhales the smoke.

“Yeah,” you answer, meekly. 

“I’m serious.”

“I know.”

The rest of the drive is silent. Abby finishes her cigarette and lights another one. You wish she would let you smoke one, but every time you ask, she gives you a lecture about how she wishes she never started and how bad they are for you. Since you were already in for a lecture about another thing; you figure it’s best to not ask her for one. She pulls into her spot at the apartment complex. Abby steps out of the car and comes over to your side, opening the door and offering a hand to help you out. You gladly take it; happy to soak up the last bits of nice Abby before she completely turns on you. She walks behind you as you go up the stairs to your door. She uses her key to unlock it, and you both walk in. Abby throws the keys onto the table that sits by the door.

“You know how I want you.” She says. It feels like her voice has already dropped lower.

You nod your head at her and walk into the bedroom, stripping off your dress and undergarments. You bend over the bed. Your legs kick up a few times, a nervous tick that only comes out in this situation. The waiting was brutal. You knew that Abby was in the kitchen preparing a glass of water and making sure the aloe vera gel was in the fridge so that when the punishment ended she’d be ready for aftercare, but it didn’t stop the anxiety from creeping in.

You hear Abby’s footsteps come closer and you fix your position; knowing it’ll only be worse if she catches you slacking. Abby sighs and rubs a hand up and down your back, it slowly starts to trail down to your ass.

“Do you know why you’re in trouble?”

“Yes,”

“Tell me why I’m punishing you.”

She grabs a handful of your ass and releases a few times; it distracts you for a moment. She pats it lightly to remind you of the question. “Was a brat, embarrassed you in front of your friends and teachers.”

“That’s right. You just can’t help yourself, can you? Always gotta act up when I need you to be good. The night could’ve gone so much different, huh baby?” Abby moves around the bed and squats down so that she’s face to face with you. She pouts when she sees the tears welling in your lower lash line. “Poor girl, now you gotta be put in your place. Can’t have you doing that again, right?”

You sniffle, “No,” 

“No,” she mocks. She takes a deep breath and stands, moving back to where your ass is in the air. “Gonna give you ten, alright?”

“Okay,”

She starts slow, rubbing up and down your ass again. She loves to work you up; loves to get your energy so high that you listen for every shift of her body. It works every time. After a while, you can’t help but become hyper aware of everything that’s happening in the room. Your back arches against your will; Abby’s movements turn you on although that’s not the point of them right now.

She scoffs, and lands the first smack to the right side of your ass. You yelp at the sting. She spanks you twice more on the same cheek before grabbing it harshly. You push your head into the bedsheets, letting your tears make a stain. She moves her hand to the left side, delivering three more hits to even out the punishment. Your tears were falling silently before, but now you can’t help but let out sobs at the pain on your ass. 

Abby pulls you up by the hair, forcing you to stop hiding. “You see what bad girls get? They get a spanked ass and no mercy from their mommy.”

“I’m sorry!” You wail. 

“You’re gonna be.”

She smacks the spot where your ass meets your thigh on both sides. You’ve always hated when she does this; you couldn’t sit comfortably in a chair for a few days when she hits that spot. She delivers two more hits to each cheek and steps back. She lets you cry for a bit and admires her work. She loves how easy it is to break you. She just has to tell you you’re a bad girl a few times and give you a couple of smacks and you’re apologizing; begging to show her how good you could be. That wasn’t enough for Abby though. She wanted you completely at her mercy. She wanted to turn your brain into mush so that you couldn’t even imagine ever being bad again. 

She decides she’s spent enough time looking at your backside and walks back up to you, flipping you over on the bed so that you were looking into her eyes. She doesn’t break eye contact as she shoves a hand down between your bodies, swiping a finger through your folds. You watch her pupils dilate as she realizes how wet you are.

“Seriously, sweetheart?” You don’t say anything in response, you’re not sure if the embarrassment or the fear took over, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to answer her. “You’re disgusting, you know that? Can’t believe you’re getting off on this. ‘Supposed to be a punishment.”

“Sorry,” you mumble. 

If Abby was good at one thing, it was making you embarrassed. You don’t even care though, because her finger is still running up and down your folds, gently touching your clit every once in a while. You try not to jump at the shock of electricity it sends through you when she touches it because you don’t want her to stop. Unfortunately, she catches on and removes her hand.

“Move up.”

You comply and go to the top of the bed. Abby stays close to you as she makes her way up too. It makes you feel so small; it makes you feel hunted. You sit up on your elbows once you’re at the top of the bed. She smooths her hand over your stomach and glaces down, looking at how your hips twitch every time she moves it lower.

“Want me to touch you, baby?”

“Yeah,” you say, basically a whisper.

“Think you deserve to be touched?”

A frown pulls at your lips, “No,”

She mirrors you and puts on a faux frown, “That’s alright, mommy’ll take care of you.”

Before you know it, Abby’s made a home between your legs and her tongue is diving between your folds. She laps at your cunt like it’s her last meal. You gasp at the sudden sensation and buck your hips, trying to grind on her face. Her nose hits your clit and you feel dizzy. The pleasure is too much. The punishment paired with Abby’s degrading words already had you reeling, and now you felt your headspace start to slip. Your ears feel stuffed with cotton as you whine at the strong girl below you. She licks a particularly sensitive spot and your thighs try to squeeze together, but her shoulders stop you. You put a hand on top of her head, trying to slow her down or reposition her, you weren’t sure at this point.

“Close– I’m close, mommy”

She hums into your cunt, but doesn’t give you permission. You whine, trying to remind her of your predicament while also trying to focus on not coming. You feel like you’re about to fall over the edge. The hand on top of her head is now trying to push her away. You didn’t want to come without permission, but you knew you would if she didn’t stop. Suddenly, Abby’s mouth is off of your cunt. You gasp; legs snapping closed at the ache that’s left behind.

You try your hardest not to say anything about the orgasm slipping away; knowing that Abby hates complaining. She had you believing you would be able to come for a split second. It felt like you could have reached out and grabbed it. 

“Bad girls don’t get to come.” Abby pants.

You start crying for what feels like the millionth time that night. Abby pushes your legs back open, inserting two thick digits into your weeping hole. You basically scream at the intrusion; sensitive from the ruined orgasm.

“So fucking easy to get you to be my good girl again, isn’t it? Just needed to be put in your place, didn’t you?” Abby says.

You’re not paying attention; head floating away from the amount of pleasure you’re getting from her fingers thrusting in and out of you. Abby grabs your face with her free hand, forcing you to look at her and focus on what she's saying.

“Dumb girl, get you all full and messy and you can’t even talk.”

The cruel words send a wave of arousal through you, and Abby smirks when she feels it.

You feel the knot tighten again, and your brows furrow; your mouth forms an ‘o’. Abby notices, watches you closely; sees how far she can push you before you break. Your mouth closes and you pull your bottom lip into your mouth, biting hard so that you focus on the pain from that and not your impending orgasm. Right when you feel the wave start to come, Abby pulls her fingers out of you, wiping them on your stomach.

“No!” You shout this time. 

Abby doesn’t even entertain you. She moves off the bed and goes to the closet, getting out the box that holds her black strap. As she puts it on, she watches you on the bed. You’re holding your tits for comfort as your legs shake. You have your eyes closed, and you’re taking big, deep breaths. Abby makes sure the strap is secure and walks back over to the bed. You open your eyes when you feel the bed dip down. You’re met with the thick silicone and you can’t help but gulp. Again, Abby watches your reaction. She’s always been a watcher, it’s what gets her turned on. Seeing the effect she has on you; how her words, her hands, her strap mess with your head in their own way. After you’ve been dating this long, she knows exactly how you’ll react to whatever she draws out, but she loves to watch you every time. 

“Gonna let mommy fuck you, baby? If you’re really good, I’ll let you come, okay?”

Before she’s even finished the sentence fully you blurt out, “Yeah, gonna let you fuck me.”

Abby laughs, “So desperate,”

She lines up the silicone cock with your hole and presses in gently. You’re already pretty stretched out from her fingers, and you’re certainly wet enough, but she still wants to be a bit gentle. She knows that the strap can sting sometimes; she also knows that you’ve learned your lesson by now. Once her hips meet yours, Abby lets out a grunt. Sometimes she feels like she can feel it; can feel how tight you’re squeezing her and how warm & wet you are. She knows the strap isn’t attached to her; knows that she can’t feel it, but that doesn’t stop her from pretending she can.

“Fuck, so tight, bunny.” She grunts out, edging the strap out before pushing it back in again, setting her pace. “Feels good, yeah?”

“Feels so good, mommy. So good.” You moan out.

Abby rearranges your limbs, putting your legs over her shoulders so she can make sure you really feel it all. You shiver at the new position, when Abby slides out and back in, she hits your g-spot perfectly. 

“Oh God,” you say.

Abby loses herself in your cunt. She’s not able to focus on anything other than how wet you are; how the strap thrusts in and out of you. She focuses on how badly she wants to make you come and how the strap has started to rub her clit perfectly. She uses a hand to grab your tit, squeezing it over and over again as she picks up her pace. This is another version of Abby. Long gone is the chivalrous Abby, and even punishment Abby. This Abby wants to make you come over and over again until you’re asking her to stop. She wants to please you until you’re sick of the pleasure. 

“Shh, you’re okay. Gonna make you feel so good now. Mommy’s not mad anymore. Just need you to come for me.” Abby says.

Your legs start to shake harder as your orgasm approaches for the third time that night. You feel it come closer and closer, threatening you. You’re scared to ask; not sure if Abby’s still playing games with you. 

“Really need–”

Abby cuts you off, “Go ahead, been so good for me.”

Her words allow the wave to crash into you. Your whole body shakes as Abby fucks you through your orgasm. Your head spins as you come back down to the room. Abby’s hips haven’t stopped once.

“Too much– can’t,” 

“Yes you can. You can, princess. You’re gonna come with mommy, okay? We’re gonna come together. Take a deep breath for me, there y’go. I’m almost there, just let me– fuck.”

Abby talks you through it, but also talks herself through it. If she knows you’ll come with her, she won’t be able to stop herself. She takes her eyes off of your cunt so she can watch how your face contorts at the overstimulation. She’s ready to tip over the edge and she sees that you are too. 

“Come, come now.”

You do as she says. Abby’s hips finally stop, the strap finds its home deep in your cunt, keeping you full while you spin out from your second orgasm of the night. 

Abby comes to first, she quietly mutters that she’s taking the strap out of you, knowing that you won’t be able to understand her anyway. You let out a small breath at the removal, and your legs fall down onto the bed. Abby massages your calf, and leans up to place a kiss on your forehead.

“Hi,” you mumble.

Abby smiles at you, “Hi, pretty.”

“Are y’still mad at me?”

“Nah, was never mad; could never be mad at you, sweet girl.”

You smile back at her. She gives your calf one last squeeze before getting off the bed. You whine; asking her where she’s going in your own blissed out way. 

“Gonna get you water, okay? Be right back.”

You nod and close your eyes. You shift and feel your ass sting. 

“Ow,” you whisper.

Although it does hurt, you’re happy to have a small reminder of Abby left on you. 

#abby anderson x reader #abby anderson smut #abby anderson fic #abby anderson x female reader #abby anderson fan fiction #abby anderson x you #abby ! #tlou fic

[kentopedia]

♰ sent to destroy — dazai osamu

.𖥔 ݁ ˖🕸️🕷.𖥔 ݁ ˖ KINKTOBER NO. 5 - fallen angel!dazai

he promises he's not the devil, but he steals your soul with just a kiss.

contents. fem!reader, nsfw minors dni, takes place in 1920s for fun ig, actress!reader, alcohol, one mention of suicidal ideation and prostitution by reader, blasphemy, sacrilege, pls don't read this if ur religious & will get offended LMAO, angel fucking (& he has wings), bondage (thru powers), unprotected sex, cunnilingus, corruption kink, possessive sex, softish dazai, mm idk what else — 6.1k

note: i didn't edit this as thoroughly as i normally do so plss ignore any mistakes and i'll love you forever

the speakeasy fills with a thin veil of smoke, coating the room with an intoxicating mix of alcohol and nicotine. it’s a lewd place, full of degenerates and failed actresses like yourself, a crowd of people who don’t belong, but try their best to find a way to keep living. 

it’s a place where women pick up their clients, leading them to the hotel around the corner for a night they certainly won’t be paid enough for. it’s where people drown their miseries in alcohol and hope they won’t wake up in the morning. 

it is, regrettably, the only place you can afford. 

you sit alone at one of the tables, hands shaky from nerves as you smoke another cigarette, contributing just as much to the cloud that suffocates the small room. 

hoards of people make their way downtown for a sip of alcohol, the drink that has so ridiculously been banned, but you are no exception, no angel amongst the sinful devils. 

someone plays a saxophone at the front of the bar, spinning into a graceful melody of jazz that sings out to you, lulls you into an embrace that warms your core. it soothes the anxiety that has lingered with you throughout the day, the reminder that your life is tailspinning. 

you’d failed at landing yet another role, and the acting career you’d packed your bags and moved out for was plummeting. who would accept you now, now that your hopes and dreams had been for naught, now that you’d created a shameful woman of yourself and your family?

the answer was clear; but you were too stubborn too accept it, too desperate to believe that you could be up in the glimmering lights, the brightest silver star the world had ever seen. 

you lean back in your chair, stamping out the cigarette with a sigh as you stand to collect another drink. there’s not much left in your pockets, but you’ve made it work before, and you’ll keep making it work now, scrounging up coins for the relief that came with forgetting. 

the only consolation is the line of women that stand alongside you at the bar, as dejected and miserable as yourself. all of you have been labeled the failures of your families, the ones that bet on a shot in the dark. none of you expected that the road would be easy, certainly not with the way the industry is hasty to pick up only the most beautiful faces… but your ambitions had led you to believe that you, of all people, had had a chance. 

you know your beauty is endless, a sight to be admired, but even that had not been enough to secure your spot in the limelight. 

you thank the bartender as he hands you a drink, and slump back to your table, waiting for the effects of the alcohol to kick in. yet, when you stand at the edge of the table, peer at the chair you’d once been seated in, there is already a man there. 

he gazes at you with a crooked smile, eyes amused as he regards your beaten-down state.

you’ve seen him before—made every attempt not to see him again. you know what they say about him. he’s a wizard, he’s the devil, he’s a god that steals the body of a mortal, waiting to destroy the earth. all bad things, certainly, and with the way your life’s been going, you’d be a fool to get mixed up with someone like him.

still…you know of the things he’s done for people. that miracles have happened for those brave enough to ask for them. 

perhaps, you’re in need of a miracle. 

the dark-haired man leans forward, eyebrows raised as you gawk at him from the other side of the table. “no need to look so frightened,” he says, gesturing towards the other chair. “sit.” 

“i don’t want any company,” you say, straightening, pulling your drink closer to your chest. “i came here to be alone.”

his eyes flash, predatory, as if seeing down through the depths of your soul, to the very desire that lingers within. all of your dreams, your ambitions, and your loneliness are displayed to him, a flashing banner that alerts him easily of everything that’s ever been wrong with you. 

“is that so?” he asks, leaning forward, his voice deepening amongst the chaos of the speakeasy. “then, why have you been staring at me all evening?” 

you can’t help the flush that rushes to your cheek, the heat that covers your entire body. with the crowd of men and women alike that are constantly at his arm, you’d hardly thought he’d notice you.

and though you know what they say about him, he is undeniably beautiful; you’re drawn to him. there is a dark and heavenly beauty about him, something that you fear is too angelic to be of this world. his eyes glimmer almost like diamonds in the candlelit room, skin so flawless that it is nearly luminescent. 

it’s no wonder, really, that you haven’t been able to peel your eyes off of him.

you circle around his question, instead, and set your drink down on the table, lured in either by a false sense of safety, or the confidence of his grin. “i know what you are,” you say, swallowing back the fear that devils often prey on. 

he smiles, indulging you, a lifelong game he has surely played. “and what is that, my dear?” 

the mocking tone sends a cold wave down your spine, even though the sweet name seems to warm you. “i don’t believe i should say it out loud.” you’re not sure what kind of consequence that will bring you. perhaps you do not need to make a deal with him for your soul to be damned, straight to the fiery pits; maybe this conversation is enough, and already, you are on the long list of sinners that will be sent to burn.

“because you believe i am the devil? a demon sent to prey upon you and your soul, drag you down to hell once the contract you’ve made is over?” 

you say nothing, but your silence speaks loudly. 

he sighs, leans back in the chair and looks at you from under thick lashes. “i have no interest in the dealings of those fifty, lesser beings. i find that i can bargain for more enjoyable ventures.” two dark eyes trace over you, swallow you whole as he grazes your curves with his irises, the shape of your breasts under the tightness of your dress, the style shorter to match the current fashions. “so, i think we both may have something the other is interested in. please,” he gestures once more to the seat in front of him, addressing you by your first name—one you never even had to tell him. “sit.” 

nervous, you take the chair, wondering why you aren’t running away, screaming at everyone that there is a monster in your midst, a being that hunts the weak to lure them away from their misery. no wonder he has made himself a frequent customer at this place—there are people drowning in sorrows. one deal with him, and they will wake up in the morning, drowning in riches instead. 

“what do you want from me?” you ask, letting your hands fall to your sides. 

“so eager to get to the best part of my bargain, silly girl. have some patience.” he takes a sip of his own drink, pinning you with his gaze, even above the rim. you squirm under the intensity, but you, even now, can’t look away. “i know you’re struggling to find work. you’ve been here for years, and made pennies to live off of.” he reaches across the table, spins a lock of hair around his finger as he sighs dramatically. “such a shame, really. they must fear the power of your perfection if they refuse to let you shine brighter than the rest of the dull creatures that they call starlets.” 

your heart drops, stutters within the delicate bones of your skeleton before starting again, as you remember that this is how the devil would act, luring you in with sweetly poisoned words full of deceit. “they are talented—”

“they are nothing,” he snarls, banging his fist on the table so loudly that you jump, hands shaking against the beaded skirt of your dress. “you may claim to believe in your own talents, your appearance, but it is all a lie, a facade that you maintain to protect yourself. you are the one holding yourself back, and unless you let me help you, you’ll get nowhere.”

you feel tears burn. “you mean to lure me away from the path of god—”

his eyes narrow. “i mean to free the human race from the chains that religion has bound on them. there is nothing for you in the afterlife but an existence of slavery. one to a malicious devil who only wishes to torment, or one to a god who doesn’t love you.” 

it confuses you, the way he speaks of these beings as if he is not on the side of heaven or hell. as if there could be another option. it seems surreal, a secret that you should not have been told; since the day you were born, you have learned of the path of righteousness, the will of god. 

that is the only way you can obtain a life of peace… yet, there is a creature before you, claiming to offer you a third path, one that doesn’t have you bowing down for a god that won’t answer your prayers. 

it may be foolish, the work of the devil, but you are willing to listen. you are already lured in by this graceful creature with a charming smile and a quick tongue, and you don’t know if it will take much more for you to succumb to him completely. 

already, you have lost your way—you would do anything to escape your unhappiness.

“what is it you’re after, then?” you ask, your voice softer, weaker than you anticipated. 

he laughs, and lets his head tilt sideways, studies you before answering. “my father has cast me out of heaven; i plan to build my own religion of followers, tearing them away from that idiot of a being they call their god. because i am much stronger, much wiser, and the only way that they can find peace after their death is by trusting that i will give it to them.” 

you swallow, twining your fingers together, and think. “you’re… an angel?” 

he waves his hand. “a fallen one.”

there are things about the world that you do not understand, but you know that god has not once help you when you were drowning without a savior. he did not guide a helping a hand when you contemplated dragging a knife across your wrists, and yet, here is something, someone wanting to save you from just that. how is it that god can be more benevolent than those he casts out, when you have seen nothing but the opposite?

“you want me to join you, then?” you ask, drawing your eyebrows together. “if i join you, you’ll give me what i desire?”

“well… that is usually the bargain i offer. however,” he hums, eyes flashing as they scour your body. he looks at you hungrily, like he has never seen a being like yourself. “it has been a while since i’ve seen a human as beautiful as you.” 

you swallow, blinking at him with wide eyes as you grow hot all over. this would not be the first time you’ve sold your body for fame, but never has it been with a man as stunning as the angel before you. “you mean… if i fuck you, you’ll give me whatever i want?” 

he sniffs, repulsed by your suggestion. “always so lewd, you mortals.”

your eyebrows knit together. “but you said—”

“i don’t want you for one night. i want you forever. i want you to swear your body over to me for the rest of your life, let me use it as i wish, bear my children.” he traces your features, grazes a thumb over your jaw, your lip. his eyes are hard, and you swallow, wondering why your stomach flips. “you are meant to be mine.” he smiles, and though you can see the mischief within it, for some reason, there is also softness there as he crosses his arms over the counter. “but if you aren’t interested, then the deal is off the table. i have no need for someone who doesn’t want me in return.” 

you blink back at him, observing the seriousness of his expression, the softness lurking within the pools of his deep brown eyes. perhaps he is a vengeful angel… but he is offering you a life that is much more promising than the one you have now. would it really be so bad to give yourself to him, to spend the rest of your life in his arms, when he promises to give you everything you’ve ever wished for?

“i—” you hesitate, unsure how to even begin to answer the question, when you didn’t quite understand what it was that he needed from you.  

“i’ll give you some time to think about it. after all, it is a decision that will affect the rest of your life.” he stands to his feet, and it is then that you notice there are some eyes on you, the women he typically has hanging off of him watching your interaction with bated breath. “when you have an answer, just call for me. i’ll be there.” 

“wait,” you say, turning in your chair to face him. “i don’t even know your name.” 

“you can call me osamu.” he smiles and winks at you, tucking his jacket closer as he begins to walk away. “we’ll be in touch."

three weeks pass before you see him again. 

you’d decided quickly what you would say to him, and after two weeks worth of auditions that led to nothing, drinking without a friend in the world, alone to rot in your bedroom, you’d made up your mind.

osamu’s proposal, now, after everything you’d suffered, seemed too good to be true. how long had you wished for a companion, for money, for a steady job—and now, these were all things he promised to provide you, if only you’d stand by his side. 

you’d called to him at the start of the week, said a prayer to any angel named osamu that was out there—but no one came. 

night after night, you said the same prayer, wondering, if perhaps, you’d been made a fool of. that everything he had said was a lie, and you, truly, were doomed to live an unhappy life. maybe, he was mocking you for your misfortunes, for your weak heart. 

though, on the twenty-first day after your discussion, you awaken to a figure standing in the corner of your room, watching you with hawklike eyes, the shadow of a wingspan shaped out behind him. 

you gasp, nearly letting out a scream as you scramble to a seated position in your bed, bringing the sheets up to your chest. the man is nothing more than a silhouette, so dark in the moonlight, but you know, without seeing his face, that he is the one you’ve been searching for.

“osamu,” you say, trying to quell the fear that has made a home in your chest. you gawk at him as he uncrosses his arms, sauntering over like he owns the place, like he’s been here before, knows the shape of your body, even under the sheets you hide within. “you heard my prayers.” 

“i apologize for not coming faster,” he smiles in the darkness, teeth glimmering under beams of starlight. his face becomes visible then, and it steals your breath away—he is more stunning than you remember, skin nearly glowing, golden. “you were beginning to sound desperate.” osamu watches as your breathing evens out, your eyes flicking over his features. “is that still the case?” 

he is a sight to behold sitting before you, the very essence of power seeping off of him in waves. a creature crafted from the hands of god, shaped to be the very thing that would protect the weaker creations. 

osamu’s skin, his hair, every inch of him is without flaws, while you are but a sinful human girl who succumbs to each of her urges. 

“i want—” you stop, realizing that you’re not sure what you want. to be an actress, yes, a famous starlet that is cherished by the masses. but, when you look at osamu, the soft, plump shape of his lips, the lean limbs that hide under his tailored coat, you wonder if fame, security, comfort—perhaps, those aren’t the only things you desire from this exchange. “i accept—”

“you sound uncertain,” he interrupts, eyebrows drawing together in a scowl. “you called me here, begged me to come steal you away, and now, you change your mind?”

“no!” you say, scrambling to grab his wrist as he starts to stand from the bed, his eyes flashing as you reach for him on all fours. “i’m not changing my mind. i want to be famous, i want to be yours.” you swallow, choking out the word as it turns your cheeks warm, the heat making its way up from your toes. 

it hit you harder that you anticipated, the taste of belonging to another. you aren’t sure if its because you’ve craved the connection for so long that it’s twisting your insides, turning you into something desperate, or if, already, you feel an invisible string tying you and this stranger together. 

“but?” osamu asks, still seeming like he’s about to flee, his eyes hard, blinking back at you. there is something about you that he wants, but he won’t take it, not unless you crave him just as much. it muddles your mind, confuses you—he could have anyone, could take anything. yet— 

“but why do you want me?” you ask, releasing him to curl your fingers around the blanket. “i don’t understand.” 

osamu balks, then laughs, his eyes crinkling as he regards you with some sort of gentleness. “perhaps i have always loved humans a little too much, much more than i should, at least.” he curls a piece of your hair around his finger, hums to himself. “innocent creatures that my father cursed with misery, blaming their own sinfulness against them.” osamu licks his lips, hungry as dark eyes cover your face. “but it’s not entirely your fault that you must bear the torment of generations. just as it is not my fault that i was born with a lust for something much more delicate than the creatures of heaven.” 

he strokes your cheek, fingers grazing you like you are nothing more than a piece of glass, that you might shatter under the force of his power. perhaps you would—with too much, he might break you, turn you into a pile of ash with a snap of his finger.  

“but there are millions of us to choose from,” you say, sweating under the blanket as your heart pounds in your chest. the breadth of his power becomes more obvious with every passing second, and yet, you crave  a taste of it. “what makes me so special?”

he wraps a large palm around your jaw, thumb pulling at your lower lip. the tip of it dips into your mouth as you watch him with wide eyes, frozen, but not from fear. “i was meant to be your guardian angel, to be the guide that leads you away from the devil until your dying breath.” he moves closer, dipping his head towards your lips, brown irises never leaving your own. “and yet, the moment i laid eyes on you, i had already broken the first rule.” 

you stumble over your syllables, whispering them breathlessly. “and what’s that?” 

osamu smiles, muttering the words against your mouth, his voice ghosting over your skin. “angels are wired to protect those that we are assigned to,” he says, swiping his tongue against your lip, just barely kissing you, the sounds low and breathy. “we’re not supposed to want to fuck them.” a finger drags slowly, sensuously up your arm, and you can’t move, can’t do anything but watch as he pushes you, sinks you slowly into the bed. “i have never wanted anything as badly as i want you.”

you breath, in and out, slow, as the heat settles in your stomach, a burning pool of need churning there. it’s been so long—so long—since anyone has touched you in a way that is kind, has wanted to please you, instead of steal from you. “all that, just for me?” you ask cheekily, though you’re still not sure that he is telling the truth. 

maybe he is the devil, but you no longer care. his voice is so sweet with praise and affirmation, bleeding into the softness of your heart. 

he shrugs. “perhaps i was always meant to fall.” your head hits the pillow. you aren’t sure when he got you pinned on the bed. osamu looms over you with wide, burning eyes, licking his lips with an ache he doesn’t bother to hide. 

“osamu,” you shudder, grabbing his bicep to steady yourself. it is too much, suddenly, all at once. you are filled with need for him, clawing at his skin as he commands complete control over you with nothing but his words. “i—”

your sentence is stolen away by a kiss, one that burns from your mouth all the way down to your toes. it twists something within you, turns you into a monstrous being that you had not realized you were, longing so recklessly to be touched. 

his hands roam over your body, touch featherlight as he removes your dress, drags it slowly off your body, eyes grazing over every inch of your skin like he wants to devour your whole.

he makes a low sound in the back of his throat, fingers lightly dipping down your chest, between the swell of your breast to your ribcage. “how cruel of our father to keep us from such divine creatures,” he says, leaning down to kiss up your stomach, lick the skin around your breasts. “perhaps we are the ones that are truly being punished.”

you writhe under him, hands curling in his hair as his own dips between your thighs. grabbing his scalp hard, you yank him back up to your lips, and your eyes meet, both dark and dangerous as you brush your nose against his own. “you are punishing me right now.” 

“is that so?” he laughs, eyes flashing with humor. “such a greedy, impatient little thing.” osamu slips out of his coat, his shirt, revealing the tent that has already grown in his slacks. they are the next to go, and his golden skin is revealed, the perfection of every line and angle of his body heavenly and refined. he leans down to whisper in your ear, breath ghosting the shell of it. “act like such a princess, but i know you want to be fucked until you can’t form a single thought, don’t you?” he says, and the coolness of his voice has you squeezing his shoulders, gasping out his name.

your skin burns, your chest burns, an ache gathering and settling deep in your stomach. your cunt throbs as you look at the angel before you, and he kisses down your neck, bites a hard bruise into your collarbone. 

you whimper, wondering why you ever questioned going with him, when he could make you feel this good from nothing more than his hands on your skin. 

“such pretty fucking tits.” he swirls his tongue around your hardened nipple, teasing the bud as you cry out loudly in the silent room. far too loudly for the thin walls, the cheap apartment. yet, you wonder if you care that your neighbors can hear the noises that come with your pleasure. 

“that’s it,” he purrs, kissing down your stomach before his lips reach your hipbone, smiling into the sensitive skin there. “so quiet before… thought i was doing something wrong.” 

“n-no,” you say, chest rising quickly as you watch him hover above your soaked cunt with anticipation. “feels good.” 

osamu smiles, spreads your legs farther, so your dripping, aching hole is on display, embarrassingly, every inch of you vulnerable to him. “look at you,” he says, eyes hazy as he holds you tight, digs his fingers in your skin. “so fucking perfect. bet you taste as good as you look.” 

there isn’t a moment for you to say a word—his head is already between your thighs, kissing your clit before sweeping his tongue through your folds, gathering up the wetness. a moan leaves his lips, and the vibration sends a wave of need through you as you squeeze his hair, force him back down on your cunt, nose dragging against your clit. “osamu, please.”

“ah, ah, ah,” he stops, licking his lips that are moist from your juices as his head lifts from between your thighs. a dark smile stretches across his features, calculating and cruel. “where are your manners, sweetheart? i don’t want you to cum too quickly.” 

you’re not sure what he means until you feel your hands pinned to the bed by an invisible force, the power of the angelic creature before you, finally obvious. you can’t move, can’t even writhe against him, even as you try to thrust your hips forward, gain any sort of relief from the position. 

he laughs at you, so pitiful at your desperation to be touched. “much better,” he says, and returns to lap at your cunt, tongue already stretching you as his fingers graze your thigh. 

“s-samu,” you say, feeling the heavy pressure build down in your stomach. “want,” your cheeks grow hot, and you’re tingling with a need to touch him, but you can’t move. his pace is too steady, too slow. you’ve never wanted to scream more. “want your fingers. please, please.” 

“please? such a good girl.” osamu grins against your pussy. the sound of his tongue slurping at your arousal is loud in the darkened space, and you clench around him, burning with need and shame. “you taste so good, too. better than any of the fucking shit in heaven. fuck.” he slips a finger in then, working at your clenching hole as his tongue curls around your clit, rubbing at the sensitive bud. 

your words leave you in a cry, every muscle in your body aching. “please, i want to move. let me touch you, i want to, i—”

“i’m not letting you go that easy,” osamu says, and he pulls his mouth away, his face glistening, soaked. his fingers curl into you and you squeeze your eyes tight as he reaches deeper, to the second knuckle. “you’re so fucking worked up. bet you could cum at the sound of my voice alone.” 

“i wanna, please, i’m so close—"

he laughs, looking up at you from under dark lashes. “already?” the sound is mocking, nothing about it soft as he kisses your inner thigh. he sees the desperation in your irises as you can do nothing but stare, unable to twitch a single muscle. “gonna cum all over my face?” he asks, and he’s back between your legs, tongue diving into you. “make a mess on me, sweetheart, wanna see that pretty face of yours when you cum.” 

you don’t think you’ve every felt like this before, basked in the moonlight as the angelic man soaks his face with your desire, smiling at the sight of you so sinful. your heart hammers in your chest as you remember what you’ve promised him—that you would be his forever and, perhaps, this is what forever entails. 

breathy moans leave you, and with each thrust of his tongue, you’re left with less words on your lips, less thoughts in your mind. “feels so good, you’re so good, osamu,” you babble, over and over. 

osamu reaches the deep spot inside of you, and you squeeze him, clenching as you come on his fingers, cry out in the space of black room, nothing but the stars to guide you. you’re not sure you’ve ever come this fast before, not without the help of your own hands, but osamu just continues to lap at your cunt, drinking the juices and making lewd noises of pleasure at the taste of you. “mm,” he hums, “so fucking perfect.”

he fists his cock, already hard as his tongue swirls inside of you, and you lose any train of thought, too focused on the way he’s making you feel. 

osamu is hard, leaking before he shifts onto his knees, rubbing his cock between your folds, gathering slick at the tip. “want my cock, baby? such a pretty thing deserves it, don’t you think?”

you nod, muttering syllables you don’t even understand. osamu teases you, drags his cock against your hole as he kisses your lips. 

“use your words, sweetheart,” he smiles. his soaked fingers leave patterns of your own slick on your stomach. 

you groan, eyelashes wet. “want your cock, ‘samu, please, wanna be stuffed so full,” you babble, and you can’t do anything but lay there, even though you want to touch him, want so badly to shift your hips into him. “please, osamu, please,” 

he makes a noise in the back of his throat, grinning as he plays with your nipple, lining himself against your dripping hole. “so fucking sweet for me, anyone would think you were the angel, wouldn’t they?” osamu asks, and then he sinks into you, slow, eyes careful as he searches for any pain in your features. 

you blink up at him, making a soft noise as you writhe under your skin. “b-big,” you say, feeling him stretch your walls as he sinks further. 

though his eyes are careful, he doesn’t bother to stop, each second dragging as he inches further into you. he laces his fingers with yours on the bed, grinning as dark hair falls into his eyes. “i think you can take it, can’t you? you’ve been sogood for me already.” 

sucked into the coolness of his gaze, you don’t realize that he’s released you from whatever spell you’ve been trapped under, kept helpless on the bed. you gasp as he sinks into you completely, aching from a mix of discomfort and the deep need with you. 

“too much,” you say, but he sinks further, deeper, and your walls clench around him, bringing a heavy groan out of both of you. “fuck, please, let me move, i—” 

“i’m not stopping you,” he kisses you hard, sloppy as his saliva drags across your lips. there’s a possessiveness in the way he fucks you, dragging his mouth across your own, claiming you as his. “you take it so fucking well, angel, slipping right into this soaked pussy.”

his words take a moment to reach your disoriented mind, and when you try to move, you can, your hands flying to his shoulders to bring him closer. your whimpers are loud in the hollow room, and osamu loves the sound of you, drinking each little whisper in like a heavenly elixir. 

“you’re so pretty,” he says, kissing across your forehead as you arch into him. “making you feel good, hm? so fucking innocent, and i’m ruining you.” 

“mmm,” you force the sound out as osamu thrusts into you, hard against the mattress, his hips moving in a steady, fast rhythm. hair is sticking to his forehead with sweat, his brown eyes even darker in the midnight hour. 

your fingers graze across his back, between his shoulder blades, and though your touch is featherlight, he freezes, stops immediately with a loud groan as he clamps his teeth down on your shoulder. 

you breath in sync, your chests rising and falling together. “osamu?” you ask, staring up at him, his eyes pinched together tightly as he grits his teeth. 

“sensitive,” he says, and his voice is hoarse. “fuck, i’ll cum on the spot if you touch me there.” 

you blink, your haziness clearing as you let your hands fall to your sides. it takes you a moment to realize why he would curl away from your touch there, why he would—

“your wings?” you ask, and he drags his gaze back up to your’s, nodding, before dropping his head onto your collarbone. he exhales into your neck, resuming a slow, steady pace inside you. though, you place a hand on his chest, feel his erratic heartbeat. “can i see?” 

“you don’t want to.” 

you pinch your eyebrows together, but he shifts his hips, forces a cry out of you as you collapse back down against the mattress. “i do,” you argue, but he’s fucking you mercilessly, sensuous sounds echoing in the room as he attempts to distract you. “i want to.” 

he’s about to deny your request, but you let out another soft please, batting your eyelashes so sweetly. your cheeks are flushed from the heat in the room, and, for some reason, he relents, bowing his head in some sort of remorse. slowly, his wings span out across the room. 

you lose your breath for a moment as you stare at them, muddled from the feeling of him inside and the beautiful sight before you. the wings are thick, black and feathery, spanning the length of the room, casting a dark shadow over you. they’re strong and unwavering, with a sheen that could be seen only on a raven, the light turning the shades from a deep purple to green. 

“oh,” you can’t mutter anything else as he drags his tip against the sensitive spot inside you. “oh, they’re so beautiful. fuck, osamu, i can’t—”

you can’t stop yourself from touching them, dragging a gentle touch against one of the feathers. osamu cries out, groans into your mouth as your walls clench around him, sweat dripping between you as your chest presses against his own.

“shit,” he says, forehead pressed to yours. “oh, i’m so close. gonna make me come, aren’t you, baby? squeezing me so fucking tight, touching me like that.” 

his eyes are hazy, and, somehow, for some reason, he’s let you have control of the situation. he kisses your face, treats you with a gentleness you didn’t think he was capable of, his lips so warm against your skin. 

the dark, heavy wings cage you in, falling over the two of you, and you run your fingers against them once more as you feel another orgasm creep upon you. your clit rubs against him, and your slick drips between the two of you, down your thighs as your breath catches in your throat. 

for a moment, you revel in the feeling of him deep inside you, and you close your eyes, his feathered wings so soft under your palm, letting your pleasure overtake you.

though that is short-lived as osamu pinches your jaw.

“hey,” he says gruffly, “look at me. want to see those pretty eyes of yours when you cum.” and though his eyes are soft, delicate from the way you’re stroking his wings, he sounds so mean, so possessive. “gonna fuck all my cum inside you, cause you’re mine now.”

your fingers curl around the feathers, hard as you tug him down towards you. osamu moans deep into your mouth when you clench around him, your orgasm rolling over you again as you scream his name into the blackness of the room. 

“such a good girl f’me, fuck, i—” he doesn’t finish his sentence, already filling your soaked pussy with his cum. it seeps deep inside of you, coating your walls white until he pulls out, lets his seed drip between the two of you. 

osamu presses his fingers across your face, dragging the delicate touch around your jaw, your chin as you breath heavily, still awestruck by the creature before you. you’re exhausted, sleepy, eyes hazy as you regard him with stuttered breath. 

but he doesn’t let you go, kissing you over and over again with flushed lips. “i know you can give me one more,” he says in a low voice, humming against your throat. “my perfect mortal girl. just one more, and i’ll give you whatever you want, got it, pretty?” 

your body aches, sensitive and spent, but you don’t object when he slips another finger into, kissing you hard as he lets you touch his raven wingspan. 

you’d always wanted to be an actress, anyways. 

tags: @hannzai @cha0thicpisces @kissesmellow21 @sukiischaotic @hinata7346

OCTOBER MASTERLIST

#dazai x reader #bsd x reader #osamu dazai x reader #dazai osamu x reader #dazai smut #bsd smut #bsd x you #bsd x female reader #dazai x fem reader #osamu dazai x you #osamu dazai smut #bungo stray dogs x reader #bungo stray dogs x you #bungo stray dogs smut #dazai x reader smut #dazai x you #osamu dazai imagines #xoxo rylie 💌 ୧⋆ ˚｡⋆ #♰ theatre of vampires #bsd x y/n #smut #dazai x y/n

[norrisleclercf1]

Little Backstabber

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Wolff!Reader

Warning: Angst, angst just pure angst, some fluff, Max is a Toto apologist, the reader is just hurting, Max has no respect for that

Requested: Yes/No

Rating: PG-13

Words: 2.3K

A/N: Hahahahaha I’m sorry (not really)

Part 1: Little Traitor

Pt.3 Little Heartbreaker

Breaking News: Max Verstappen and Y/N Wolff Announce Their Engagement 

Toto stares out the window as Susie reads the newspaper out loud during breakfast. Laying the newspaper down, she gazes at her husband as he doesn't say a word, not even turning to acknowledge what she has read. 

"Toto, maybe tell her how happy you are for her?" Susie mumbles over her coffee cup, which has his eyes cut to her. 

"I called my daughter a slut; she doesn't want to hear from me. But, can you?" He asks, laying his glasses down as he rubs his eyes. 

"No, I will not." Susie snips, sitting her cup down harshly. 

He just nods, not preaching the topic anymore since it's been a strain between them. 

"Y/n? Angel? Where are you?" Max yells, seeing your boxes piled up in his place, but it doesn't make him angry; pride and other cavemen's feelings cover his mind as he stops seeing you in the kitchen. 

You danced in the kitchen wearing a Redbull shirt and dark blue panties, clearly, nothing else. Hair is thrown up, and you are just enjoying yourself.  

"God, I love you." He whispers, still not letting you know he is home. Home. It was weird for you to call this place home, but it felt right. 

You spin around but stop halfway to seeing the figure and scream. 

Max laughs, which calms you down immediately, knowing it is your fiance and not some stranger. You hold your chest, trying to calm down as he just reduces to giggles walking up to you, pulling your hands gently. You let him pull your body into his, both bodies molding perfectly in the hug as he whispers comforting words. 

"You scared me." You laugh, rubbing his back as his chest shakes yours with his laugh again. 

"Oh het spijt me, zat gewoon naar mijn bloedmooie verloofde te staren." (Oh I'm sorry, was just staring at my gorgeous fiancee) He laughs making you slap his chest. 

You've started to perfect your Dutch after Max proposed to you; you had always spoken Dutch, but not comfortably, and now you could converse with him. 

"The press released our engagement announcement today. It's in the newspapers." He mumbles, leaning back slightly to kiss your forehead. 

"Yes, I know. Susie sent her congratulations." Your tone sour. 

After everything with your father, you refused to go anywhere near Mercedes, even keeping away from Lewis and Geroge, who sided with your father. Your stepmother tried her best, but you didn't want to talk to them, much less think about them. Max makes a noise but doesn't say anything. There have been multiple arguments about your family and what to do regarding the wedding. You didn't want them there, no invitations or anything. Why should people who constantly let you down throughout your life be welcomed to the day of embracing your new one? 

"Don't, Max." You noted the noise and pulled away from him, returning to the counter and fixing lunch for the both of you. 

"I just......he's your father. He should be there when we're married." He groans, pulling his hair slightly with annoyance. 

"No." Is all you say, making Max drop the conversation and look over your shoulder at what you're preparing. He smiles, seeing the potatoes, onion, carrot, and cabbage beside the smoked sausages. 

"You're making Stamppot?" He asks, dropping his head to kiss your shoulder, able to see the tension fade away. 

"Yes, it's slightly chilly out, and I figured it'd be good and healthy since you can't eat certain foods." You mumble, trying to get around your irritation with Max. 

"I'm sorry." He whispers, touching your wrist and stopping you from chopping the cabbage. 

"Just, why can't you understand? You were able to work out your issues with your father, but mine? I can't. So stop." You pull your wrist away from his fingers and continue chopping the cabbage. 

Max nods his head and walks away, heading to his Sim. Hearing his footsteps enter the den, you drop your head and stare at the gorgeous ring on your finger. It's a stunning natural blue sapphire with a daisy oval shape, little diamonds aline it, with a gold band holding it all together. Max had the ring specially crafted for you; he had the idea of the ring for a while now. He knew you weren't big on diamonds, so he set on a sapphire. Cliche, but he picked one closest to the RB color, a final stamp to show people that you were his and you weren't going anywhere. 

You loved the ring, Max, and your little life together. It terrified you that if your father came back into your life, to your wedding. He'd ruin it all. Shaking off the evil thoughts, you get back to cooking the lunch. Time passes with you cooking and listening to Max curse the Sim, potting the Stamppot. You gently carry Max's bowel to him and sit it on the desk. 

Max pauses it immediately and turns around in his chair, looking up at you; from the look on his face, he clearly has something to say. 

"If it's about my father, keep it to yourself." You warn, Max automatically turning back around to the Sim and hitting play. 

"I think you'll regret it." Max mumbles, but you ignore the comment and head to the bedroom sitting on the bed. 

You reach under the bed, pull out this little black box, and open it, your father and your smiling face greeting you. You kept all your childhood pictures of your father or postcards from when he was traveling around the world. Each one had his familiar writing on the back, each word etched into your brain. Each praise, love, how much he loved you, missed you, couldn't wait to see you. Where did it all go wrong? Why did he leave you? Why weren't you worthy or made him proud enough? Why? 

Swallowing the tears, you put the lid back on and slide it back under the bed. Max stands at the cracked door, watching you hide the box, the one you thought he knew nothing of. He knew your father should be at the wedding, he knew that's what you wanted, but you couldn't see past your anger and hurt. Max understood, but he knew the best for the both of you would be inviting Toto to the wedding. 

Stepping away from the door, he grabs his phone and pulls up Toto's number. Don't ask why he has it. He just does. 

You're invited to the wedding, don't fuck up this opportunity; see you on July 1st at 7 pm at Hotel de Paris.

Max hits sent and watches as the text is read automatically. The 3 bubbles pop up and then go away. This continues for about 15 minutes until the text returns, making Max scuff slightly, but glad to see Toto answered. 

Thank you for the invite, we'll be there.

Clearly, Suise was helping the man answer the text, but in the end, Toto gave his curt answer, and that was that. Max wasn't going to tell you what he had done, but he knew that you'd come around in time for the wedding and invite Toto and Suise, but it was his secret for now. Of course, telling Toto you had no idea he was invited doesn't occur to him, but he'll worry about that later. 

"Baby?" Max yells down the hall, and you emerge quickly, worried something is wrong. 

"What?" You ask, looking around the apartment, ready for an issue, but all he sees is Max sitting on the couch. 

"I apologize. I know the relationship with your father isn't like mine, and I should leave it be, and I will. No more talk about it. I'll let you go at your own pace. But just know, if we have kids, he needs a chance, and that's all I'm saying on the topic." Max sighs, catching his breath from his little rant. 

"I love you." You whisper, walking over and kissing him. Max smiles and pulls you down, having you lay on top of him. 

At this moment, everything was perfect, until 4 weeks later. 

You're walking home when you see a present sitting at your door, you weren't expecting a package so you look at the address and see it was from Susie. Sighing, you lean down and pick it up. Shocked by the weight, you stumble into the place and set it on the coffee table. Opening the box, you pull out the brown paper and freeze, seeing what is in the box. 

There was a transparent glass collage of you and Max lined with your favorite flowers, and on the bottom were gold words engraved. 

If I were the moon, I would want you to be my night

You stare at the words, knowing those words deeply. Your father always wrote quotes on the back of your postcards. This was the last quote he wrote you before it all fell apart. You pick up one of the smaller boxes with shaky hands and open it. You can't help the tears that start to fall. 

It was this small tiara, but not any tiara. It was a baroque crystal pearl tiara with very two rows of diamonds; on the top, pearls sat on top. It was gorgeous, but you felt your inner child's heartbreak. He remembered. When you were younger, you and your father walked past this old antique boutique in the front window and sat this same tiara; it was crazy expensive. You didn't even tell Toto that you wanted the tiara; you just stared at it and then kept walking down the street. But he did remember, after dropping you off at your mother's, he circled back and bought it. He kept it for the day you'd get married and thought he would hand it to you in person, telling you how much he loved you and was proud of the woman you've become, but instead.....he had to send it to you through a box. 

Sitting down, you grab the last box, opening it as a watch for Max. On the back was the first date you two ever had. But, the inscription was in Toto's handwriting. How he knew it that date was beyond your knowledge. Something catches your eye, making you sit the watch down to pick it up. It was a card. 

Opening the card, you scan the words, but one sentence catches your attention. 

Thank you for the invitation, we can't wait to see you and Y/n tie the knot. Much love from Susie and Toto

You stare at the words before they dawn on you. Max. He invited them. After you told him you didn't want them there, he still asked them and did it without notifying you. Time passed by you, and nothing made you move until you heard Max's keys in the door.  

"Hey love, I'm home!" Max called, having a great day. He couldn't wait to see you. 

Walking into the living room, he smiles brightly seeing you but stops seeing the emotionless look on your face. He looks at the box and then back to you before you slam the card down, finally looking at him. 

"You bastard." You whisper, shaking your head. You feel this hot rage boiling inside you, but your throat gets tighter and tighter with each passing of time. 

"He's your father." He whispers, knowing what the box means. Toto must've sent a gift or something and probably told you on a card that he was invited. 

"He LEFT ME!" You scream, moving away from the box to stand before Max. 

"You both left each other! Why can't you see that he's been trying!" Max snaps, tired of this back-and-forth argument. 

"I was 14. What do you want from me, Max? He was the adult; he should've tried. It's not my job!" You yell, not wanting to talk about this anymore. 

"When he reached out to you, we were 16, we had just had our first date, and he called you. You didn't answer the phone and said you'd call him back. But you never did. That showed him you didn't care anymore. Why would he try with someone who didn't even try either." Max argues. This shocks you. How could someone who not even 6 months ago defend you against your father was now being his most prominent advocate. 

"Be..because I was a kid." You retort, lost for words. 

"See, you can't tell me why you're still angry at him. We're adults, Y/n, let the past be the past." Max sighs, running his fingers through his hair before reaching for you. 

You pull away from his reach; hurt and rejection shatter Max's face as he slowly drops his arms. You take a few deep breaths, fiddling with the ring. Max watches, panic overtaking any sense he has. 

"Don't, don't do this." He whispers, staring at the ring on your finger. 

"How can I marry someone who doesn't respect my wishes, someone who defends the man who called me a slut. The person who made me feel less of myself my entire life, and here the person who is supposed to protect, stand by me, and love me, defends them. How can I marry you after this?" You ask, pulling the ring off. 

"No, please, Y/n, don't." Max breaks. He can't keep it together anymore as he watches you sit the ring before him. Tears slide down his face as he watches you grab your shoes and keys. 

"Don't leave me, don't please. Not again." He whispers, grabbing you as you try to hide your own tears. 

"You betrayed me." You whisper, pulling yourself out of his hold and walking out the door. As you close the door, all you hear is a scream and glass shattering as you walk away from the love of your life. 

#f1 #formula 1 #f1 fandom #f1 x reader #f1 x y/n #f1 imagine #f1 scenario #formula one #max verstappen #max verstappen scenario #max verstappen imagine #max x reader #max imagine #f1 red bull #f1 angst #f1 2023 #f1 imagines #f1 fluff #f1 x you #red bull racing #red bull formula 1 #red bull reader

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The Farmer's Daughter 5

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Characters: Walter Marshall

Summary: You notice a peculiar change in a family friend. (short!reader, sorry size kink is out)

Part of the Backwoods AU

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Walter’s presence grows routine, even if it still feels peculiar. Before, you saw him now and again when he dropped in to see your dad. He never seemed very social and that sense hasn’t changed. He comes, does his work, and politely accepts his dinner.

That day, a week since your father’s homecoming, you’re due to drive into town. You need to stop by the pharmacy for your mom and pick up a few staples from the grocer. You’re excited to get out, to distance yourself just for an hour or two from the sombre farmhouse.

You grab your purse, a wicker bag with a ribbon tied on the handle, and put a hat on to block out the beaming sunlight. The birds tweet in greeting as you fold your mother’s list into your pocket and head for the garage. The door is open already. Timothy always forgets to close it.

You jingle the keys and climb up into the old truck. You don’t drive it often, mostly traveling to town with your parents or brother. You prefer to walk most places, even if it is a bit far.

You put your bag on the passenger seat and turn the keys in the ignition. The engine putters then a loud bag makes you yelp. A plume of black smoke erupts from the slits on the hood of the truck and a rackety clunking churns in the motor. You let go of the key as you sit dumbfounded and watch the cloud grow.

You hear footsteps and suddenly the driver’s door swings open. You’re pulled out before you can react, put onto your feet and ushered back into the spring hue. You cough as you get a mouthful of smoke and turn to face the garage, Walter’s hand lingering on your back.

“Timothy,” he growls before he marches forward, “told that kid he was gonna start a fire.”

“I…”

“What’s going on?” Your brother dashes up as if he heard his name, “woah, holy cow.”

“What did you do?” Walter accuses.

“What? I fixed it,” Timothy shrugs.

“Damnit,” Walter growls and paces back and forth. “You’re lucky it didn’t catch fire,” he turns on your brother, “you’re lucky your sister didn’t get hurt.”

“Huh? What?” Timothy shakes his head, “I didn’t–”

“She was in there,” Walter’s voice rises tremulously.

“I’m okay,” you pipe up, “it’s fine, I just… can you fix it?”

Walter stops and faces you. His brow twitches in anger and he crosses his thick arms. He peeks over his shoulder then back at you.

“Not any time soon.”

“I can fix it.”

“Don’t touch it,” Walter snarls, “you leave better off alone.”

“Jeez, dad, calm down,” Timothy snipes dryly. He gets a dark glare in return and flinches visibly, “sorry, I–”

“Shouldn’t be joking about that,” Walter girds and pivots his attention back to you, “where were you going?”

“Just to town. I was gonna get some stuff from the store,” you explain.

“I’ll drive you,” Walter insists.

“Oh, uh, that’s fine. I can call Mr. Howland–”

“Don’t bother,” Walter waves you off, “running low on manure around here.”

“Oh,” you chew your lip, “right. Well, thanks, I’ll just grab my purse–”

You take a step towards the garage and Walter quickly blocks your path, “I’ll get it. You shouldn’t breathe that stuff in.”

You step back and nod. Walter rolls his shoulders and narrows his eyes at Timothy as he spins, “get back to planting. No time to waste.”

Walter stalks into the thinning smoke and you blink at your brother. He mopes and throws his hands up as he looks at you, “I was just trying to help.”

“I know, Tim,” you say, “better just get it done.”

“God, he’s a grumpy gus, isn’t he,” Timothy rolls his eyes, “sorry, sis.”

“I’m okay,” you assure him, “just go.”

“Hey,” he stops himself before he goes, “can you grab me smokes?”

“No,” Walter answers as he emerges, holding out your purse, “come on, better head out.”

Timothy huffs and tramps away. You take your purse from Walter with a sheepish smile. His anger makes you nervous. You’ve never seen him anything less than stoic. You follow him to his truck, parked just in front of the house and he opens the passenger door ahead of you.

The porch door swings open and shut. Before you can climb up into the truck, you mom rushes out, “everything okay?”

“Just some car troubles,” Walter calls back, “nothing I can’t fix.”

“Right, oh,” she looks over at the wisps escaping the garage, “fire?”

“Just smoke,” Walter returns, “I’m gonna take her to town, I’ll have a proper look when I get back.”

“I can call Vol,” your mother offers.

He grumbles and offers his hand. You let him help you up into the truck, the lift even higher than your dad’s. He waits for you to settle in before he shuts the door.

“All good, Maddie,” he shows his palm, “won’t be long at all.”

“Thank you, Walter,” your mother preens, “you’re too good to us.”

He nods and goes around the front of the truck. He hops in the driver’s seat with no effort at all and shuts the door. He buckles his seat belt, glancing over at you and you do the same. You clutch your purse and swing your feet over the floor.

“You alright?” He asks as he starts the engine and shifts.

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“Must’ve been scary,” he comments.

“Just a bit of a surprise,” you chirp, “but I’m okay. Er, thanks for… for saving me.”

“Saving you?” He scoffs.

“Yeah, I didn't really know what to do,” you laugh at yourself, “I'd still be sitting there staring like a deer.”

“Hmph,” the noise is close to a chuckle.

“What are we getting in town?” He asks.

“Oh, uh, pharmacy first,” you answer, “then I wanted to see if the market's selling honeydew.”

He hums and backs out. You hold onto the door as the truck rolls over the bumpy ground. It's not what you planned but it's still a break.

#walter marshall #dark walter marshall #dark!walter marshall #walter marshall x reader #drabble #backwoods au #au #series #night hunter #the farmer's daughter

[stormsthatrage]

Tsuna is kind. Tsuna is compassionate. Tsuna, unlike many bosses, does not see himself as more than simply because of his station.

The only people who are capable of bringing out the entitled, spoiled, possessive Mafia Prince - the tiny piece of Tsuna's heart that is a stereotypically behaved Vongolian Sky - are his closest family. And even then, they can only manage it in very specific circumstances.

Allow me to clarify:

Imagine Tsuna, in a café filled with rubble and smoke, looking down at Hayato's fallen form. He stares at the blood seeping out from Hayato's chest - the chest that was torn open when Hayato jumped in front of a bullet meant for Tsuna.

(The assassin's corpse is cooling on the other side of the room, dead too late at the edge of Takeshi's blade.)

Tsuna keeps his eyes locked on Hayato. Hayato, who lies limp and motionless, no matter how much sun flame Ryouhei pumps in to him.

It feels like a dream. It feels fake. He feels detached from it all, like he's watching the world from far above and emotions can only reach him after traveling through a mile of cotton.

"Move," he tells his sun, his dying will flaring in the midst of his strange numbness.

His sun yanks his hands back, as instantaneously as if he were following a reflex instead of words.

Tsuna surveys the scene for another second, still through that mile of cotton, and then decides, "No. No, I refuse."

And, after all, does he not have a right to? He, the holder of the Vongola Sky Ring, the Guard of the Vertical Axis, the Sky of Skies. Is it not his birthright to seize hold of, to command, the threads of time?

He reaches out, burning, and undoes it.

An orange glow erupts around the two of them - his Hayato, and the assassin.

And then there is the assassin, alive again, aiming at a spot Tsuna is no longer at.

And there is Hayato, alive again, throwing himself to protect where Tsuna once stood.

Tsuna already has an arm raised, and sends a blast of power at the assassin. The assassin crumples. And then Tsuna is turning around, spinning towards Hayato, and he feels, within him, a hot, violent rage swell up. How dare he. How dare he.

He stalks over to his Right Hand, hands shaking with anger, and he spits, "You."

His Right Hand looks at him, all wide-eyed and taken off guard. As if he's not a fucking thief.

Tsuna snarls up at him, right up in his space, "Sit."

His Right Hand's knees fold. He just barely manages to catch himself against the table directly behind him, and it's not so much sitting as propping himself up, but Tsuna doesn't fucking care.

Tsuna's fists clench, and he stares directly into those green, green eyes. "You," he seethes, "took an oath, Gokudera Hayato." He feels himself burning, dying will an inferno on his skin. "You swore yourself to me, yes? Your life is mine. You do not have the right to take it from me."

His Right Hand, his storm, his Hayato, says nothing, eyes wide and face pale and lips parted ever so slightly in shock.

Tsuna feels incandescent with rage. "You dare-"

And then he finds himself losing the words, swaying in place as exhaustion slams down across him.

The last thing he feels is Hayato's arms coming up around him, warm and alive and oh so gentle, and the last thing he hears is Takeshi, saying - absolutely delighted, Tsuna knows that tone - "Oh, he is going to be so embarrassed when he wakes up."

And then darkness.

#khr headcanons #khr #katekyo hitman reborn #sawada tsunayoshi #gokudera hayato #tsuna's brain refuses to process what just happened #and it shows

[deathbecomesthem]

Kiss the Cook 4 | 2.3K

linecook!Eddie Munson x server!reader

Summary: It's just you and Eddie working on a lazy Wednesday morning. Until an unexpected guest throws a wrench in the gears.

A/N: This might seem a little out of place in this current series, but it's an older piece I wrote many moons ago. Based on a mostly true Thanatos server experience.

--

As usual, you leave the cream colored coffee mug at the prep station next to the fruit cup that Eddie’s prepared for you. His back is still turned, he’s throwing down a case of bacon to fry off before opening. This time of the day, his clothes are clean and fresh and his hair is still damp from his morning shower. His hair is pulled up in a bun that sits a little higher than normal, and it gives you a good view of the fine hairs at the back of his neck. Little soft curls that cling to his skin just above the place where his shoulders work underneath his crisp white shirt. 

The tattoo there has always been something that you’ve noticed, but you’ve never gotten the chance to really see it until now. It’s a sword, the hilt of which can barely be seen through the curls that rest at the nape of his long neck. The blade looks sharp enough to cut, and it reaches straight down his spine. You wonder about it, and hope there’s a day when you’ll get to see the tip of that blade, wherever it may be.

You’re thinking about reaching out to touch his neck. - let your fingertips feel the skin and hair - when he turns away from the grill and the meat that’s already begun to spit. He seems totally unaware of your gaze, even now with his profile in full view. You could already be sitting on the curb out back puffing through your pre-opening cigarette, but this is a rare thing getting to study him so intensely in a quiet moment.

“You gonna stand there and stare all morning, or do you wanna go smoke before this place turns into a zoo?” You can feel heat in your face immediately, and hope he doesn’t turn to look at how you’re reacting to his teasing. You were caught, but also, he was letting you look. Your stomach does a flip at the thought of it, and you wonder how long he’s known that you’ve been taking all of the sly glances you can.

“I was just waiting for you,” you spin on your heels and head towards the back door before Eddie can look at you, “whenever you’re done screwing around with your meat, I’ll be out here.” Eddie’s low giggle follows you through the back door. The 90 seconds between when you sit on the concrete and when Eddie opens the back door to join you is enough time to consider that he was flirting with you. Openly. That’s new. You think it’s new, anyway. Maybe you’ve just been missing it.

It’s with a heavy sigh that Eddie sits down next to you on the low to the ground curb, his long legs extended so his knees don’t sit up high under his chin. He’s long, like a stretched out cat dressed in his still clean black denim and cotton shirt. He’s close enough for you to smell the soap that still clings to his skin from his morning shower, and the deodorant he must have put on directly after. 

“So. I’ve been thinking about something.” Eddie’s fumbling hands are reaching around in his apron pocket while a Camel dangles from his lips. You extend your green Bic, flame lit, to his cigarette. Eddie smiles around the paper filter, his eyes flick from you to the end of his cigarette where the cherry burns to life. “Thank you,” he whispers on an exhale, his full focus back to you.

“What have you been thinking about Eddie?” You push your shoulder against his. As always, it’s a way to connect your bodies in a mundane and friendly way. You think it might be your imagination, but you could swear you can feel his body heat through his and your own layer of clothing. He’s gotten shy now, eyes focused on the asphalt parking lot in front of him. His long fingers are twirling the lit cigarette around while you wait for his answer.

“Well,” the word comes out in a higher pitch than normal, he clears his throat, “well, I was thinking maybe we could go out sometimes. Just you and me, like uh -” he brings his eyes back to yours, gauging your reaction, “- I’m sorry, I’m shit at this. It’s ok if you say no, I don’t want it to be weird at work or anything.”

“I don’t know how anything could be weird when you haven’t actually said anything outside of wanting to go out. Sure, Ed, we can go out. We’re friends aren’t we?” You can’t hold back the snicker that laces your words. Eddie’s so cute, his cheeks are pink and his eyes are pleading. He looks like a boy instead of the 26 year old man that he is, and he’s begging you for mercy.

“You’re torturing me on purpose, and it’s not nice.” No, it’s not nice, but it’s having its intended effect. Eddie wants to take you on a date, and you can’t care that the words are too hard for him to say when his face is so close to your own. When his lips, oh he can definitely see that you’re looking at them, are so pretty. He’s close enough that you can see the stubble across his top lip. Fresh shave this morning, but the light of the sunrise is starting to make the tiny hairs sparkle.

“I’m sorry, Ed,” both of your cigarettes are burned to the filter, and you know it’s at least a couple of minutes past opening time. You can’t find it in yourself to care. You have a wild thought about asking him to flick work with you. To go for a long walk and hold hands. Your thoughts get wilder when you notice his eyes flick down to your mouth as if in question. Unconsciously doing the same thing your own eyes have been doing to Eddie’s lips. Are we going to kiss out here on this curb while the sun is still hiding behind the trees?

Your thought is answered and the moment is broken. The sound of a familiar voice mumbling a curse accompanied by a fist loudly knocking against glass. A quick glance at your watch tells you it’s 3 minutes past opening, and Jimmy is right on time as always. The retiree that sits at the corner of the counter for the first hour of the diner’s business, and has been doing so since the week of the grand opening 15 years ago, is ready for his morning’s coffee. 

“Sorry, Jimmy, I’ll be up front in 30 seconds!” You shout around the corner of the building from your spot on the curb, neck craned in the direction of Jimmy’s grumbling before slapping your knees and standing up. You look down at Eddie and find that his gaze has returned to the tree line beyond the parking lot. He lets out a chuckle and pulls out another cigarette while you pat the top of his head in goodbye. By the time you get Jimmy's coffee and cruller, Eddie will be inside to fry up his eggs. You wonder, as you step back in through the metal door, whether the words between you and he will mean anything, or will be forgotten as the day moves forward.

–

You’re perched on a barstool at the counter, Jimmy is the only company you have when it happens. Eddie’s smoke break took longer than was reasonable, and you stepped out of your assigned role to make two sloppily fried over medium eggs for the old guy. You didn’t mind, you assumed this was just one of those mornings. Sometimes, Eddie is pensive. You only wished there was a way to relieve him of his duties for the day so he could get a real break. 

The sound of the back door opening draws your attention towards the kitchen while your hands mindlessly pull out a knife, fork, and spoon to roll into the paper napkin in front of you. Immediately you realize something is wrong, because the familiar sounds of Eddie stomping are replaced with a choked off scream and - possibly the sound of a scuffle of some kind. 

“What the hell -” before Jimmy can’t get out his thought, he too recognized that something was wrong in the small hallway that holds the back door and bathrooms, Eddie’s high pitched yelling freezes you in your spot. A split second later, your fear has you on your feet and sprinting towards the cacophony.

“Motherfucking son of a bitch!” Eddie hollers before throwing open the swinging kitchen door, narrowly missing your face. A small red blur passes in front of you before you catch sight of Eddie. He is standing in front of the men’s room door with his shirt pulled half over his head and his apron tangled in his arms. Your brain cannot make sense of the sounds and sights you’ve just experienced, and then you hear the voice of another man shouting at the opposite end of the restaurant.

“Christ Almighty!” Jimmy sounds less frantic than Eddie did a moment ago, but no less surprised. Your feet are moving again, letting the swinging door close on the disheveled line cook. Your mind is working to make sense of things when you round the corner to enter the dining room and find your foot skidding against something slick. A quick look down tells you it’s - what the fuck - bird shit.

There’s a bird loose in the restaurant. A bird. And the two men here are screaming messes.

You head back to the dining room and grab a broom before you make your way into the dining room to save an old man from the bird menace. The crashing of silverware tells you that things are not chill, and you’re ready for it. You think you’re ready for it until a flash of red feathers swoops down at your head as you remember to step over the spot of shit left on the linoleum. 

“What the fuck.” Your attempt to bat the bird away from your head with the broom, it’s a cardinal - you can see it clearly now, results in you breaking a bulb in one of the hanging lamps that are throughout the dining room. Glass rains down on your shoulders, and you have at least enough sense to shake it off rather than use your fingers to brush at it. “Can birds have rabies?”

“No!” Jimmy answers your rhetorical question from the opposite end of the dining room. You see that his coffee mug and plate of eggs are spilled on the floor next to his abandoned barstool, “but this one is fucking possessed! I flew right at my head like it was out for blood!”

–

The battle of the bird vs. Eddie Munson lasted 2 hours. Casualties included one lightbulb, a glass coffee urn, a set of salt and pepper shakers, a ceramic coffee mug, a tray of donuts (bird shit), and the ceramic plate that held Jimmy’s poorly made over medium eggs. You and Eddie tried and failed to catch the terrified creature dozens of times before opening both the front and back doors and returning to the spot at the curb where Eddie almost managed to ask you out on a date before the chaos began. It took less an 5 minutes for Mr. Cardinal to find the exit, swooping down at Eddie’s head as a final “fuck you”.

“What did I do to deserve that bird’s rage?” Eddie’s hair is a mess, and you can’t help but wonder if he had managed to do something that has resulted in this avian vendetta. “I say we clean up and call this day a loss. Charlie can kiss my ass if he has a problem with it.”

“Charlie won’t care. We already lost breakfast to a bird.” Your words came out with a giggle. Eddie caught the itch of laughter. The post bird drama hysterics had you both hunched over in gasping laughter until the thought of your lost wages made your smile fade. “I’m gonna make Charlie pay me kitchen wages for today.”

Eddie hummed in agreement with the sentiment. You certainly deserve it, especially considering what it will take to get the bird shit out of your non-slip footwear’s sole. When you go to stand, finally deciding it was time to clean and get as far away from the war zone as possible, you’re stopped by a soft grasp of Eddie’s calloused hand on your forearm. You look at him and find his gaze firmly on yours, and not looking out past the tree line. 

“How about we clean up and go out to lunch somewhere? My treat?” A battle well fought has given Eddie the nerve to ask the question he’s been wanting to ask for months. Even now, when he knows your answer, butterflies’ wings beat in his chest as the silence after his question is asked fills the air.

“Ok. But only if we can get some ice cream after.”

#eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #linecook!eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson series #eddie munson au #eddie stranger things #eddie munson imagines

[eggyrocks]

SEVENTY TWO WITH IWA IM BEGGING ON MY HANDS AND KNEES FOR IT ALSO HAPPY 500 YIPEEE -(🗣️Anon)

the way i was praying to fucking god that someone would request this exactly thank u so much

500 followers special: #72: “I will knock you on your ass if you even think about it.”

iwaizumi x gn reader, established relationship, use of 'baby' as a pet name, drinking & smoking, cursing, lame men, the threat of violence, not proofread

written content masterlist

There are three key mistakes that they made.

It's the same three mistakes they make every time they go out drinking, always in the same order.

First, they always order one too many rounds of shots. Whenever they're drunk enough to feel giddy and sober enough to stand upright, they always push their luck with one round that leads to another, and that leads to them crawling out of the bar when no one is looking to make their second mistake.

When there is a drag in their step and a slur in their speech, they find the nearest, painfully bright, twenty-four-hour convenience store, and they buy a fresh new pack of shiny cigarettes, and a sleek new lighter.

Which, in turn, almost always leads to their third mistake: getting lost.

They don't have the best sense of direction with a clear head. When their eyesight is blurred and their head is spinning, there is no chance of them stepping foot in the right direction. For a moment after they step out of the shop, they spin in one direction, and then another, trying to remember which one they came from.

It takes them all of one minute before they admit to hopelessness, collapsing to sit on the edge of the sidewalk, too drunk to care about the cleanliness of it.

The brightness of their phone makes them flinch, and hold the phone away from their face, trying to shield their eyes from it. "Fucking shit, Siri, for the love of god, please call Hajime."

They're a bit slow to process that the phone obeys them. They're still trying to figure out how the fuck you put the goddamn phone on speaker when he answers. Faintly, they can hear is phone on the other line. They give up, and slide their phone against their ear. "Haji," they say, drunk and whiny and frustrated, "I'm fucking lost."

He makes a noise on the other line of the phone that seems like it's a cross between reluctant amusement and frustration. "Where are you right now?"

"I don't know, I just said I'm lost," they reply, looking around their surroundings and trying to spot something that seems familiar. They twist their head back to see the shop they just bought the cigarettes from, and then perk up at the reminder that they have cigarettes in their pocket now. "I just bought some cigs at this random ass store and I don't know where the bar is or if my friends are still there."

Iwaizumi groans. "Fucking of course. Alright, listen, just stay there. I have your location on and I'll come find you."

A pout forms on their lips. "Are you mad at me?"

There's a bit of shuffling on the other end. "No, baby, I'm not mad at you. You're just kind of a dumbass sometimes."

They can't argue, so they laugh, holdinng the phone between their shoulder and their ear, as their hands tear into the packet of cigarettes. "How far away are you?" they question.

"About ten minutes," he says, voice sounding a bit further away now. "Hang up and save your battery. Call me back if anything happens and stay put."

"'Kay," they agree, words now muffled by the cigarette between their teeth. "Love you."

They wait until Iwaizumi responds, "Love you," before they're pocketing their phone once more, following his instructions to save the battery. And they wait.

It sucks. Sitting there on the sidewalk, the alcohol making them feel sloppy and messy, like their head is not on right. There's too many people on the street tonight, too. Crowds of people walk behind them, some stumbling into the same store as them for drunken snacks and hefty bottles of water. They try to people watch to pass the time, but it makes their head hurt to lift it up.

Their elbows are on their knees, and their eyes buried into the palms of their hands, lit cigarette loosely dangling from their fingers, waiting for the buzz of their phone or the sound of Iwaizumi's voice, when there's a warmth beside them.

It takes them a second to process the thigh being pressed against theirs from someone sitting too close. They know at once it's not Iwaizumi. The cologne is too strong and it makes them feel a bout of nausea.

They reluctantly lift their head to see the grinning, unfamiliar face of a man that looks just a touch less drunk than they feel. "You look way too drunk to be sitting here alone," he says in a way that seems more amused than concerned. They try to scoot away from him without him noticing. "Need help getting home?"

"No," they reply, putting all of their effort into making their voice sound clear and even. They inhale a puff of smoke and blow it out towards his face.

The stranger does not react to it, he just keeps grinning down at them. "What's your name?" he questions, unrelenting.

They just blink back at him, unwilling to provide even that.

And even then, he is still undeterred. "Okay, well, whatever your name is, I have a really good idea here. I have an Uber on the way, and you can just hop in there with me, and then come back to my place. How does that sound?"

"Fucking stupid," is their natural response. And the second it comes out of their mouth, they giggle, unable to stop themselves and aware that they are not in the right state of mind for this sort of conversation.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that," he replies, chuckling now too, as if he took their laughter as a good sign. "It'll be fun. I'll even let you sleep in one of my t-shirts."

All they can think of then is Iwaizumi, of stealing his clothes and sleeping in them for hours. The thought puts a smile on their face, and with their blurred vision getting worse, they start to lose sight of exactly where they are.

"Aw, see, look at that smile!" he says, but he feels far away, to them. "Uber's almost here. Want me to help you in?"

"I will knock you on your ass if you even think about."

His voice is clear, strong, and familiar, and it makes them shoot upright, allowing them a momentary moment of sobriety. The cigarette falls from their fingers, forgotten, as they turn to see Iwaizumi approaching, and launch to their feet.

He looks enraged, brow furrowed and a glare fixed harshly on his expression. But it's not anything they haven't seen on Iwaizumi before. It doesn't stop them as they rush towards him, arms flinging over his shoulders. "Haji!" they exclaim, ecstatic at the sight of him. "I missed you."

To his credit, Iwaizumi does take a moment to kiss the top of their head, and his arm does find its place secure around their waist, but his glare does not waiver from the man still seated on the edge of the sidewalk. "Get in your fucking Uber before I break your legs and you need help getting in, dickhead," he snarls.

The words hit their drunken ears, and they lean back from their embrace, trying to catch Iwaizumi's eye. "Are you talking to me right now?"

"No, baby, just hold on a second, alright?" he says to them. "Gotta make sure gentleman of the year here goes home on his own without fucking kidnapping someone else."

"I think you're gentleman of the year," they mumble, still holding onto his neck, and resting their head against his chest.

Iwaizumi's lip twitches, just slightly. And they're sure that there's a conversation that continues from that point, they can vaguely hear words that sound distant to them, and can feel curses rumble in Iwaizumi's chest, but all they can focus on is how nice it's going to be to go home with him. And to drink a glass of cold water. That they are really looking forward to.

Eventually, after what seems like another hour but is just an additional forty-five seconds, Iwaizumi gently pulls them to walk alongside them. Their feet stumble to follow, but it doesn't matter too much, he's holding up most of them, anyways.

"You gotta stop running away from your friends when you go out," he tells them. "I almost had to kill that guy. You'd be so upset if I had to go to jail for murder."

"Oh, is that what happened?" they slur, eyes closed and trusting Iwaizumi with every step they take. "Yeah, that'd be bad. I'd have to do a murder too so we'd be in jail together."

"Not sure it works that way."

"You're not mad at me, right?"

Iwaizumi chuckles. "No, not right now. I'll save the alcohol safety lecture for when you're hungover tomorrow."

"Awesome. So that means you'll carry me home the rest of the way, right?"

Iwaizumi sighs, as if this is some inconvenience for him. But he grins as he hooks his arm under their knees and holds them close to his chest. And they're asleep in his arms before he even clears the block.

an: DO NOT RUN AWAY FROM YOUR FRIENDS WHEN YOU'RE DRUNK. NO MATTER HOW FUN IT MAY SEEM. DO NOT DO IT.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #hq x reader #hq x you #hq #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x imagines #haikyuu x gender neutral reader #haikyuu x you #iwaizumi x gender neutral reader #iwaizumi haijime x reader #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x you #iwaizumi fluff #iwaizumi x reader #hq iwaizumi #500 follower special

[willalove75]

Alcina's New Maid Pt. 24 Lady Dimitrescu x Reader

Summary: The interrogation of the prisoner begins and tensions rise as the truth unfolds.

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI.

Tags: Some canon violence, angst that melts into sweet fluff.

Notes: Part 24! I'm so sorry this look literally forever! I don't know why, but I had such a hard time getting through this chapter. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it! The next few chapters will be more light-hearted and fun and I'm excited to finally be able to get to them!

Click here for the rest of the series

Gif source

Alcina runs her gloved fingers through your hair before she steps out of the shadows towards the prisoner, leaving you out of sight but within earshot. The girls had dragged him out of his cell and seated him in an old wooden chair.

Bela, Cassandra and Daniela are taunting the prisoner, unaware of their mother's presence. The moment sound of Alcina's heels hit the stone floor with a "CRACK" the girls immediately fall in line.

The prisoner looks up with a terror in his eyes that grows as he takes in the sight before him. The small space of the dungeon makes Alcina look even taller, more imposing, more terrifying. She confidently and unapologetically takes up the space she occupies which makes her all the more intimidating. Never in his short life has the prisoner felt smaller, weaker and as helpless as he does in this moment.

"Well, well. If it isn't our little hunter." Alcina says, her grin widening as she leans into the prisoners space. "Daughters, has he given you any useful information?"

"Not yet mother." Bela says.

"We were just about to start playing with him." Cassandra says with a sadistic smile.

"There will be plenty of time to play with him later girls. Until then, let the interrogation commence." She says as she stands to her full height and raises her arms, signaling for the girls to take over before stepping off to the side. Alcina takes a seat in a larger chair and crosses her legs. She pulls out a lighter and lights the cigarette sitting at the end of her quellazaire before taking a deep inhale. The smoke dances around her as she exhales, curling almost beautifully as it glides through the air.

"We're going to start off with an easy question." Bela says with a sickly sweet tone of voice. "What's your name, little one?"

The prisoner stares at Bela with a blank look on his face, too terrified to respond.

"It will do you well to participate." Alcina says. "I make no promises that my daughters won't do all that they can to extract an answer from you."

The casual tone of her voice is unsettling. Cassandra steps in front of him, gently dragging her sickle down the side of his face but doesn't break skin.

"Or you can keep that mouth of yours shut. I do love being able to dig the answers out of our prisoners."

She presses the sickle harder into his face and a trickle of blood begins to run down his dirty skin.

"Cassandra." Alcina warns.

Cassandra pulls away with a dissatisfied grunt and returns to her spot next to Daniela.

"Shall we try again?" Bela asks, spinning her sickle in her hand. "What's your name?"

"D-dorin."

"See how easy that was?" Bela says with a wide, bloody smile. "Now, how far away was the base from where mother found you?"

"Less than a quarter mile."

Bela walks over to one of the tables with a book sitting on it and writes something down.

"Wonderful. Did they attack mother as soon as they found her?"

"N-no." He says, his eyes shifting from Bela to Alcina. "They noticed her following two of the members and led her away from the base before attacking."

Bela writes in the book and turns to Cassandra, nodding for her to take over.

Cassandra circles Dorin for a few moments before stopping behind him and leaning into his ear.

"BOO!"

Dorin yelped, jumping in his seat as Cassandra laughed at him; Bela and Daniela joining in on the laughter. Alcina even chuckled as she took another drag from her cigarette.

She rounded the chair and leaned in, her face becoming uncomfortably close with his, enough so that he winced and pulled back a little.

"Tell me, what were you all planning?"

"Th-they want to attack the four lords."

"When?" Cassandra growled.

"I don't know, they didn't say-"

Cassandra presses her sickle against his neck.

"Do not lie to me."

"I'm not! I promise! I really don't know when, they never told me a date! I wasn't a high enough rank to know things like that. All I knew was that they wanted to attack all four of the lords at once, I swear!" He says as tears run down his cheeks.

Cassandra withdraws her sickle and circles the chair again.

"And just how many of there are you?"

"Well, there were maybe fifty of us, but at least half of them were killed."

"Fifty? That's all?"

"They were recruiting more."

"How many more?"

"Hundreds."

"How?"

"From nearby villages and other countries. Sixty of them were coming in next week."

Cassandra grills him for the next few minutes on exactly where the hunters were coming from, what weapons they were supposed to be bringing and an overall layout of the base. When she was finished she stood next to Bela and Daniela.

"Daniela, darling, do you have any questions for the prisoner?" Alcina asks.

Daniela walks up to him and circles him a few times. She brushes his messy hair out of his face and squishes his cheeks between her hands.

"No, he's cute though, mother!" She says with an excited smile.

Alcina raises an eyebrow towards her daughter and with a huff, Daniela walks away and stands next to her sisters. The sound of heels on the stone floor fill the dungeon once more as Alcina walks up towards the prisoner.

"Was that all of the information you know?" She asks.

Dorin swallows hard and nods his head.

"Yes."

Alcina growls and leans in towards him.

"It would be in your very best interest not to lie to me."

"I-I'm not. I swear! That's it!"

"I will give you one more chance. I know you are not telling me everything." Alcina hears his heartrate grow faster and faster, not only is he lying through his teeth, he's more terrified than he was before. "What more information are you keeping from me?"

In the shadows you can feel your heart beating out of your chest. "Just tell them you idiot!" You scream in your head.

"Nothing. I've told you everything I know."

In that moment you knew he sealed his fate, but a tiny bit of you held out hope that he's either just too stupid or too scared to say the rest. He's just a kid after all, isn't he?

"LIAR!" Alcina screams in his face, causing him to flinch. "If there is one thing in this world that I detest most, it is a liar. And I will make sure you spill every ounce of truth." She says as she elongates her claws.

"I swear! That's everything! Please!"

Alcina retracts her claws and stands back up. She puts out the cigarette at the end of her quellazaire and lays it down on the table.

"Would you like to know how I know you are not being truthful?" Dorin doesn't respond, he just stares at her. "Because a little fly told me you had a visitor yesterday, one you poured your pathetic little heart out to."

Alcina walks over towards you and places a hand on your shoulder, guiding you out from the shadows. If Dorin had any color left in his face, it would have drained right then and there.

"You- you told them?" He asks in disbelief.

"I told you to tell them everything!" You say, as you walk towards him.

"You promised-"

"Enough!" Alcina says. "I know you are leaving out a very important piece of information. She told me everything."

You see something inside Dorin snap.

"You fucking bitch!!" He screams.

He lunges forward at you and you notice the glint of something sharp in his hand. Alcina quickly grabs your arm and pulls you backwards with such force you nearly fall over. You can feel the rush of air pass by as the object in Dorin's hand just misses you as you're pulled away. Cassandra jumps forward and sinks her sickle into his shoulder and pulls him back down into his seat. Dorin cries out in pain and you hear the sound of something hitting the ground. Alcina catches you before you fall and in an instant she's on her knees in front of you patting you down, checking for injuries.

"Draga, draga mea are you alright? Are you hurt?" She asks as her eyes scan every inch of you.

"No, no I'm okay, I promise. He didn't get me." Looking over her shoulder, you see a jagged piece of scrap metal laying on the floor. He must have found it in his cell and kept it up his sleeve as a makeshift weapon.

Alcina exhales a breath of relief before fury takes over her eyes. Her head snaps in Dorin's direction, all of her rage pointed directly at him.

"How DARE you try and lay a hand on what is MINE."

A look of confusion crosses Dorin's face until he registers that Alcina now has a protective arm around you and the interaction the two of you just had.

"I knew I never should have trusted you!" He screams at you. "You lying fucking bitch! You tricked me!"

"No! I didn't! I promise I was trying to help you!" You say as Alcina's grip around you tightens ever so slightly when she hears your voice shake.

"You told them everything! About the base, the hunters, about their cold weakness!" The three girls freeze in place when they hear him say that, their eyes go wide as they look over at Alcina and you. Each girl had a different look in their eyes. Cassandra was absolutely furious, Bela was shocked and Daniela was fearful. All three of them shared a look of disappointment and maybe even a hint of betrayal when they realized you both kept this information from them. "I bet you even told them about my mother and sisters in the village you traitor!" Dorin screams.

Alcina's head slowly turns to look at you, her eyes wide. With her still kneeling next to you she's much closer. So much so that you can see the flecks of grey and a small ring of red around the iris of her eyes.

"His what?" She hisses.

As you look up into her eyes tears begin to roll down your cheek. Alcina's eyes are filled with rage and disbelief. Looking back towards Dorin his eyes are wide as saucers.

"I didn't tell them that." You say softly, defeated.

"Well girls, it seems a little trip down to the village is in order." Alcina says with such ice in her voice it makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

"No!" Both you and Dorin cry out.

Alcina's gaze snaps down to you.

"Al-" Her gaze at you hardens. "M-my lady, please, please don't, they're innocent in all of this."

"They had nothing to do with this! It was all my dad and brothers and you already killed them!" He yells.

Alcina looks over to Dorin and stands back up. She runs her fingers through your hair as she steps away from you, a subtle hint of comfort as she walks closer to him.

"You see, all of this could have been avoided if only you were honest from the beginning. Your carelessness, your selfishness is going to be the cause of the rest of your family's demise."

"Please! I'm sorry! Please don't hurt them!" He cries as he tries to stand up but Cassandra sinks her sickle deeper into his clavicle, causing him to yelp in pain as she pulls him back down.

"I'm sure the women in your family will make a nice vintage for next season." She says all too casually before letting out a deep, dark chuckle.

"You're all fucking monsters! All of you! You're all going to burn in hell!"

The laugh Alcina lets out is chilling. She leans in towards Dorin and says with a sickly-sweet smile, "you're already here." Before standing up to her full height and laughing out loud once more.

"Daughters, I believe we've heard enough from our prisoner. You're free to do what you want with the man-thing." The smile on the girls' faces grow wide, sending shivers down your spine. Alcina turns and stares down at you. "And you, you are coming with me. You and I must have a conversation."

She begins to guide you away from Dorin and you hear him yell out "I hope she fucking kills you!"

You stop and turn back towards him, his eyes are filled with hate and they're directed right at you. Alcina places her hand on your shoulder and continues to guide you out of the dungeon.

The moment the door shuts you hear the girl's laughter and the sound of Dorin screaming in pain. The sound of a sickle slicing through him makes it to your ears and you freeze as your stomach twists violently. He starts to gurgle on his screams and you feel the blood drain from your face.

Alcina looks down at you and sees you frozen in horror. The tears flow down your cheeks faster and you begin to tremble as the girls' laughter gets louder and louder.

"Come, draga." She says, putting a hand on the back of your shoulder and begins to guide you away from the dungeon.

It felt like you and Alcina were walking for an eternity. The screams from behind the door seemed to follow you as far as possible. As the awful sounds ring in your ears the memory of Alcina's claws punching through Stefana's body resurface. At the time you were too dazed to register any noises but your mind put the sound you heard just after the door closed to that visual and you begin to tremble more. Alcina kept a firm hand against your back - it was the only thing keeping you grounded. Every so often her thumb would rub against your shirt, providing a silent comfort while the two of you made your way out of the basement.

It wasn't until you began to walk up the stairs did the horrible sounds finally begin to fade out completely. When the two of you emerged from the basement a few maids stopped and stared at your disheveled state. Mixed looks of fear, pity, and disgust crossed their faces for a brief moment before the low growl Alcina let out sent them scurrying from the room.

With a large hand still resting on your shoulder, Alcina led you up the stairs towards her chambers. As you walked through the halls you looked up to steal a glance of Alcina's face. Her chin was held high as usual but you noticed the slight furrow in her brows and that her jaw was clenched tight. She seemed focused on where the two of you were going but you could tell at the same time she was deep in thought. Quickly you averted your eyes before she caught you looking at her.

Upon reaching her chambers, Alcina led you into the room before shutting the door behind her and guided you towards the chaise lounge in the corner. Once you were settled she walked over to her vanity and opened one of the drawers, taking out a case of cigarettes and a lighter. Neither one of you have uttered a word since the dungeon and you weren't about to be the one to break the silence.

Luckily, you stopped trembling. Only your hands had a slight shake to them as you tried your hardest to forget about the noises and thoughts plaguing your mind.

Alcina took a deep drag of her cigarette, her shoulders dropping some of the stress sitting on them as she exhaled. After a few more silent drags she stubbed the cigarette out in the ashtray and made her way across the room, taking the spot next to you on the lounge.

There were a few tense moments where you weren't sure if you were going receive the brunt of Alcina's anger and frustrations or if she was going to be the soft, caring woman you've grown to love. It seemed that Alcina contemplated that thought herself before sighing and tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

Hesitantly, you turned towards her and met her gaze. In her eyes you could see the frustration, but more than that, you saw the concern she had for you.

Alcina cupped your face and wiped away the tear streaks with her thumb.

"Are you alright?" She asks.

"Mhm." You say, nodding into her hand. "The noises brought me back to when I fell down the stairs and, I don't know I just-" you trail off as your anxiety begins to build again.

Alcina immediately picks up on it and wraps her arm around you, pulling you close. Her lips meet your temple and she places a light kiss against your hairline. Instead of pulling away, you feel Alcina lean her head against yours.

"Shh, it's alright draga. We don't need to revisit that day. It's over." You nod against her and she moves to rest her chin on top of your head. "I did instruct the girls to wait until we were much further away before they began... playing with our prisoner. However, I think hearing him discuss their cold weakness set them off. I was half expecting Cassandra to go after him right then and there."

"I'm surprised she didn't, she was so mad." Fresh tears begin to prick at your eyes. "They all looked so hurt that we didn't tell them. I hate that that's how they found out. I told him to tell you everything, I told him!"

Alcina pulls you into her lap as you start to cry again, gently shushing you.

"You did everything you could draga. There was nothing more you were able to do. You risked your life to help a stranger and he repaid you by lying and then trying to kill you. Everything that happened to him after that was deserved."

"Is it naïve of me to think he only reacted like that because he's a kid and that he was just terrified?"

Alcina exhales from above you before lifting her head and bringing a gloved finger underneath your chin. She lifts your gaze to meet hers and tilts her head, a knowing look in her eyes.

"Do you truly need me to answer that question?"

"No."

"Draga, he tried to kill you. If I didn't pull you back, if I took just a second longer to react he would have-" Alcina's grip on you tightens and she shakes her head. "I don't even want to think of what could have happened." She says softly.

"Thank you for saving me." You say, burying your face into the soft fabric of her dress.

"I will always protect you, iubirea mea. Always."

The two of you sit in a comfortable silence for a few minutes before feeling a shift in the air. Stealing another look up at Alcina you notice her staring off into the distance, a pensive look on her face. Her eyes drift down and lock onto yours for a moment before she looks ahead once more.

"Are you mad at me?" You ask.

Alcina lets out an almost exaggerated exhale and looks down at you. She steels her expression in a way that makes her completely unreadable and you feel your heart sink in your chest. Alcina leans down and places a kiss to the top of your head before shifting you off of her lap and onto the chaise lounge.

"No." She says as she stands up and makes her way over to her vanity. "But that does not mean that I am happy with you."

You drop your gaze down to your lap, nodding in understanding as you fiddle with your hands. Off to the side you hear the metal cigarette case snap shut and the sound of the lighter flicking a few times before it lights. The faint crackle of the end of her cigarette is the only sound that fills the room until she exhales a cloud of smoke into the air.

"You do understand why I am not happy with you at the moment, yes?" She asks as she turns towards you.

"Yes, I think so." Alcina tilts her head at you, silently telling you to continue. "Because I didn't tell you about his family in the village?"

"Yes. Precisely." She says before taking another drag. "What I cannot seem to wrap my mind around is the fact that we spoke just last night about being completely honest with one another. Again. And again, you were not honest with me. Can you tell me why that is? Because I am having quite a difficult time understanding why you lied to me, again."

Peeling your eyes away from hers, you look down at your hands in your lap while you squirm under her gaze.

"I - I didn't think it was important." You say quietly before looking up at her again.

You can see the anger that flashes in her eyes, it almost makes you wince but stop yourself from reacting.

"That is not for you to decide." The iciness of her voice sends a shiver down your spine that you try to suppress. "You do not get to deem whether or not the information my prisoner gives you is important. Unless you've forgotten your place? In case you have, let me remind you. Just because we are in a relationship in no way means that your word outweighs mine. This is still my castle, my domain. It is my word that is law here, not yours. If he told you as little as when he last sneezed, I expect you to relay that information to me because it is not your place to decide what is and what is not important. As deeply as I care for you, you are still my maiden. I am your countess, your mistress and you will obey the rules I have in place. Do I make myself clear?"

Part of you wished she would have just yelled at you because the steady, controlled tone of her voice was far more intimidating than when she yells. You know she's angry and you can see under her hardened exterior that deep down she's scared, but her words cut into you and make you feel incredibly small. All you can do in response is nod, not trusting your voice to crack or for the tears that were building to not fall.

"Speak." She commands.

"Yes ma'am. I understand." You say with a shaking voice.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself?"

"I - I'm sorry."

Looking down into your lap you see the tears fall onto your dress. Never before have you felt so small, so insignificant. Her words felt like a sharp slap across the face. Was that how she looks at you? As something that belongs to her? Will she ever consider you an equal? Were you just looking at your relationship through rose colored glasses this whole time?

"Is that all?" You ask. Alcina pauses mid-drag and looks over at you with an unsure look on her face but you don't look up at her. "I apologize for overstepping my lady. I will make sure it never happens again. If that's all, I would like to retire to my chambers now."

It took Alcina by surprise hearing you call her "my lady" and speaking to her like every other maid in the castle. Before she could register the words coming out of her mouth she heard herself say "y-yes, that's all."

She watched you in near disbelief as you walked out of her chambers with tears streaming down your cheeks and your eyes trained on the ground. Her eyes closed as you shut the door behind you and she felt tears roll down her cheeks, the gravity of her words finally settling in.

The harsh words she spoke were out of fear. Fear for her daughters, for you, for her staff. Who knows what the prisoners family knows or how involved they really were in the hunters group. For all she knew they were regrouping in the days the prisoner has been sitting in the dungeon, getting a head start on their plans. It hurt her finding out that even after the conversation you had last night that you didn't tell her everything he said. Of course it meant a great deal to her that you told her all of the most crucial details, but such a small detail such as his family in the village going under the radar could end up being a much bigger issue in the future.

But how could you possibly know that? Alcina crushed the cigarette in her hands as she put herself in your shoes. You have no experience with groups such as these, you have no idea the true danger that they could impose if not dealt with properly. In your mind, the women in the village were just innocent lives you were trying to spare - just as you were trying so hard to spare the life of the prisoner. Alcina curses herself for being so cold towards you, for making you feel like you were her property. Like you were so far below her. Meanwhile in reality, your thoughts and opinions meant so very much to her.

She snaps out of her thoughts when she hears you crying in your bedroom. Her heart breaks once more knowing how deeply she's hurt you. She debated for a moment whether or not she should go and comfort you or give you space; but last time she did that you barely left your room. For the first time in decades Alcina feels nervous, unsure of what to do. Looking at her reflection in the mirror, she questions whether or not she'll be able to look herself in the eye if she left you in such a state again. Would she be able to forgive herself if she didn't go and try to right her wrong right this minute? Before she could even finish the thought she knows what her answer is.

Alcina removes her gloves, setting them down next to her hat and stands up, making her way out of her chambers and to your door. She debates on knocking but forgoes it and slowly opens your bedroom door. Seeing you curled up in your bed in tears breaks her heart and she makes her way to the edge of it before removing her heels and lays down behind you, wrapping herself around your tiny figure.

The sound of your door opening pulls you from your thoughts but the tears continue to fall. Soft clicks of Alcina's heels on the wood floor reach your ears before she stops at the edge of your bed. A few moments later the bed dips behind you and you feel her lay down, wrapping her arm around you and curling her knees up, cuddling you in her embrace.

Laying here in her arms feels like the complete opposite of the harsh words she spoke to you just a few minutes ago. The push and pull of emotion is almost too much to bear and you cry harder as she comforts you.

"What am I to you?" You ask through tears. "Am I just your property? Just something for you to control?"

"No." Alcina says with a heavy exhale. "You are everything to me my love."

"Then why? Why did you say those things? Will I ever be enough for you?" Alcina's grip around you tightens at your words.

"Oh, draga. You are, you are more than enough. I fear I will never be enough for you. I am so sorry for being so cold, so unloving towards you." She sniffles behind you and nuzzles into the back of your neck, inhaling your scent. "I was scared when I said those things."

There was a vulnerability to her voice that you're not sure you've ever heard before. It was like you could feel her walls crumbling as she laid behind you.

"What scared you?"

"All I could think of was that that man-things family has been continuing to plan their attack the days he was in the dungeon. That they are more involved than he said. That my girls could be in real danger. That you could be in real danger."

"But he said -"

"Darling," Alcina breathes. "One of my favorite things about you, one of the things I love most about you is that you always, always try to see the best in people. Even if it's just the smallest piece. For so many years I only ever looked at how awful, how horrible the world is. I forgot to look for the beauty, for the positive things even if they weren't the most obvious. My world has blossomed in front of me because you showed me that there is beauty everywhere, that there is always a bright side, even when it's dim."

Alcina nuzzles into the back of your neck, placing a kiss behind your ear before continuing.

"But my love, you cannot believe everything that you hear, even though you may desperately want to. I know he said they weren't involved but what if he lied? What if they were involved and play a vital hand in this attack they're planning? Maybe they weren't involved but now that half of their family has been slaughtered they decide to join in? I know you wanted to protect them, because in your world they are just innocent bystanders. That if they aren't involved then they're not a liability. When I said those things I did not take your perspective into consideration, and I am so sorry for that. But you have to know that in my world, in this world that you're in now, there are rarely such things as innocent bystanders. There are so many variables and even the smallest, most innocuous detail may seem irrelevant but could end up being a large threat to all of us.

I realize that there are so many things you don't know about what really goes on in our world and it was not fair of me to be angry with you for not knowing things you could never have possibly known. I promise that I will do better and that I will teach you more about this world we are in. But my love, I need you, from here on out, to be completely honest with me, especially about things like this. Our lives could very well depend on it."

She exhales and pulls you tighter against her chest, almost as if she's afraid that if she doesn't hold you close, you'll slip through her arms and never return.

"I may be your countess and mistress, but I am also your partner, your lover. Yes I have the final word but your thoughts and opinions hold more weight than you know. I love you so much draga mea, so, so much. And I am so sorry for hurting you again." She says as a few tears roll down her cheeks.

"I never thought of those things." You say quietly.

"I know, my love. I never should have expected you to know. After decades of dealing with these issues I forgot that not everyone that comes into this castle sees things the same way that we do."

"I'm sorry, Alcina."

Hearing her name fall from your lips brought a smile to Alcina's face. Part of her worried that her words set back so much of the progress the two of you had made. Hearing you call her "my lady" before terrified her, thinking that her harsh words broke the trust the two of you recently regain in one another.

"There is nothing for you to be sorry for, draga mea. It is I who should be apologizing to you. I am so sorry." Alcina kisses behind your ear and nuzzles into your hair again. "Will you ever be able to forgive me?" She asks quietly.

There's a hint of fear in her voice, fear that she's pushed you too far and that you won't be able to forgive her again.

Turning in her embrace, you look into her golden eyes. It surprised you to see that they were tinted red from her crying and to see the dried tears and mascara tracks down her cheeks. You wipe away the smeared makeup and place your hand on her cheek. Alcina covers your small hand with her much larger one and closes her eyes for a moment, feeling the warmth of your skin. When her eyes open again there's a hint of apprehension.

"I can't stay mad at you, even if I wanted to." You say, echoing her words from last night.

A beautiful smile crosses her face as her eyes fill with tears once more. She wraps her arms around you and pulls you into her before pressing her lips into yours and you happily kiss her back.

The two of you laid together for the rest of the day, cuddling and talking. Alcina kept her promise and talked about how even the smallest things could lead to potential disaster. She used Dorin's family as an example frequently, explaining how much of a threat they could truly possess to the castle. It surprised you just how important even the smallest details could be, especially after Alcina told you about the hunters that successfully breached the castle walls not long after she was infected with the cadou and what she had learned from each experience. The whole conversation was truly eye-opening and you understood why she was so scared when she found out about his family. By the time the conversation wrapped up you realized how truly dangerous they could be, although you still held so much guilt knowing nothing was going to stop Alcina and the girls from "taking care" of the problem.

The best thing to come out of that conversation, however, was the fact that you felt more like her equal, like the two of you were in it together rather than her ruling over you as if you were any other maid. When you expressed that thought to her, Alcina smiled and kissed you deeply, holding you close to her.

"I promise draga, one day you will be my equal. I look forward to the day you and I can rule over the castle together. It's going to take time, but I have no doubts in my mind that you are going to be more than capable of it and I know you are going to do a wonderful job."

She kissed you deeply once more, grazing her tongue across your bottom lip. You couldn't help but smile as her large tongue slipped between your lips as she poured all of the words she didn't know how to say into the kiss.

When you parted she rested her chin on your head and ran her long fingers through your hair.

"When are you going into the village?" You ask.

"Tomorrow night, most likely."

"What if there are children in the house? You won't, would you?" You ask, afraid of the answer she's going to give.

"If there are young children in the house, no. I won't bring harm to children if it can be avoided. Children are rarely a liability because they are so small and useless."

You let out a breath of relief. It would take a lot now to look at Alcina as a monster, but you would find it almost impossible to deal with knowing she would hurt an innocent child like that.

"What's going to happen to the rest of them?"

"Well it depends, if they put up a fight, which I expect them to, we will do what we have to to handle it. However, I try to keep the bloodshed to a minimum if possible so we can get a better harvest once we bring them back to the castle."

"Will you bring them back alive?"

"Perhaps, it depends on how it all happens."

"I know I'm in no position to ask for favors, but can you just try not to make them suffer?"

Alcina gives a lighthearted chuckle, shaking her head at how big and tender your heart still is.

"I promise I will do what I can to not make them suffer, draga mea. Alright?"

"Thank you." You say, cuddling into her.

"Of course, iubirea mea."

The two of you lay together, Alcina tracing the features of your face with a gentle touch, combing her fingers through your hair as the two of you sit in a comfortable silence. Just enjoying being together.

The dinner bell rings and Alcina lifts her head and looks towards the door and back to you. You look up at her golden eyes as they crinkle at the corners when she smiles down at you. Leaning down, Alcina places a kiss to your lips before you both start to get up. Alcina puts her heels back on and the two of you make your way downstairs.

The girls swarm into their seats as you walk into the dining room and you're more than a little relieved that they changed clothes and washed their faces before dinner.

"Good evening daughters. Did you enjoy the rest of your day?" Alcina asks as she takes her seat.

All three girls reply with a "yes" and start talking over each other, saying how much they enjoyed themselves. Your stomach churns when they start to talk about what they did to Dorin but Alcina cleared her throat and eyed the girls.

"Girls, I appreciate your excitement, and I am very glad that you all enjoyed yourselves, but can we please forego details?"

"Yes mother." They say in unison accompanied by apologies aimed at you.

"You know, the man-thing did say something interesting while we were tor- playing with him." Daniela says.

"And what was that draga?" Alcina says.

"He said something about how he's not going to see his youngest sister grow up and how her birthday was soon. But it got me thinking," she says, looking at you now. "when is your birthday?"

"Mine?" You ask.

"Yeah!" Daniela says.

"Uh, it's next month."

"REALLY?!" Daniela yells.

"Yeah, why? When are your birthdays?"

"We don't celebrate our birthdays." Bela says.

"Really?"

"Yeah, well none of us except for mother remember our lives before the cadou so we don't know when our birthdays are." Cassandra says.

"We have 'rebirthdays', the day that we were reborn, but we don't celebrate them." Bela says.

"Why not?"

"When you're immortal and don't age, birthdays kinda lose their excitement." Cassandra replies.

"That's fair I guess."

"But you're not immortal!" Daniela says.

"That is correct, I am not."

"So it would be so much fun to celebrate your birthday!!" Daniela says, looking over at her mother, buzzing with excitement. "Mother can we throw y/n a birthday party?! Pleaseeeee?!"

"Oh! Yes! We haven't had a proper party here in decades!" Bela says.

"That would be so much fun! Please mother?" Cassandra asks.

"I don't know girls, it's been a very long time since we've had a celebration." The girls respond with a disappointed whine and Alcina looks over at you. "It also depends on whether or not she wants us to throw her a birthday party."

"Can we?! Pleaseeeee?!" Daniela asks, giving you puppy dog eyes.

"I don't know guys," the girls groan. "I don't think I've had a birthday party since my parents were alive."

"Why not?" Bela asks.

"Because my aunt and uncle never threw me one, after a while my birthday became just another day I guess."

"That's bullshit." Cassandra grumbles and Alcina is quick to reprimand her. "Sorry, but it's true!"

"Pleaseeeee let us throw you a birthday party?! We promise it'll be the best most fun birthday party you'll ever have!" Daniela exclaims.

"I mean," you look over at Alcina who smiles back at you.

"If you are alright with the girls and I throwing you a party draga mea, I will allow it."

Looking back at the girls they look at you with excitement in their eyes. It melts your heart seeing them like this, you don't think you've ever seen them this excited before. They said they haven't thrown a party in decades and they seem so excited to have a reason to have one. Who are you to disappoint them?

"Sure, if you want to throw me a party you can. But you don't have to!"

"YEAH!!!" The girls cheer.

"Oh! Should we pick a theme?!" Daniela says.

"Themes are for children's parties!" Cassandra says.

"They are not!" Daniela argues.

"We can finally use the ballroom again!" Bela says.

"Fine if we can't do a theme can we at least do a color theme?!" Daniela asks.

"As long as it's not a stupid color like pink." Cassandra says.

"Why not?! Pink is SO pretty!"

"Pink is a terrible color theme for a party!"

"It is not!"

"Is too!"

"Oh! We also need a guest list!" Bela says. "Y/n, can you give us a list of your friends you want invited?"

"Oh, you're inviting people from the village?"

"Of course we are! It's a party!"

"Alright, alright. I didn't have a lot of friends so it'll be a small list anyway."

"The color should be black!" Cassandra says.

"Black is so dark and boring!" Daniela argues.

"Not if it's a black tie party, idiot!"

"I'm not an idiot!"

"Then stop acting like one!"

Before the argument between the girls can escalate any further, Alcina puts an end to it, telling the girls that they can all come up with ideas together, but since it is her castle, she will get the final say on everything.

"Oh here we go." Cassandra says.

"What?" You ask.

"Mother is going to take the whole thing over."

"I will not, I just want to make sure this party will reflect well on House Dimitrescu. It will be the first time in over fifty years that we will be having such an event and I will not allow it to reflect poorly on us." Alcina says.

"So she's going to take the whole thing over." Cassandra grumbles.

Alcina shoots her a look while she drinks her wine and the conversation surrounding the party continues as the girls throw out theme ideas, who will attend, what foods will be served and so-on.

Even though you haven't been a big fan of your birthday since your parents death, you have a feeling that this party is going to change that, at least for this year. Part of you hopes the girls will get it out of their system so you're not the center of attention every year for the rest of your life, especially in front of such a big crowd since the girls seem hellbent on inviting nearly everyone from the village.

As the whirlwind of the day winds down, you look forward to curling up with Alcina in bed and falling fast asleep. Much to your pleasant surprise when you walk into her chambers, Alcina is already in bed with a book in her hand. Quickly you get yourself ready for bed and climb in next to her. She puts her book down, turns off the light and pulls you into her.

"Goodnight draga mea. Te iubesc atat de mult." (I love you so much).

The purr from her chest quickly lulls you to sleep and you can barely mumble out "I love you too." before you're fast asleep in her arms.

#willalove75 #lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #wlw fanfic #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu fanfic #re8 alcina #re8 lady dimitrescu #lady alcina #alcina x female reader #alcina x reader #alcina dimitrescu x reader #re8 village #re8 fanfiction

[wolfvmin]

House of Cards: The Last Dance

pairing: chishiya shuntarou x fem!reader genre: angst, unrequited love (but is it really), pining, fluff (can u believe it) wc: 15.7k (uhm) warnings: badly written action scenes, implied abuse, more flashbacks, unedited </3 summary: in which after leaving chishiya, you were forced back into the games of borderland. a/n: this is all i can do i'm sorry song used: when i fall in love - nat king cole PART 1 > FINAL

Death doesn’t discriminate between sinners or saints.

As you lay there on the ground with the smell of cinder filling your nose and the heat of the scorching fire warming your skin, your mind brings you back to the means you had to go through to live another day in Borderland. You’ve lied, beaten, betrayed, and killed to survive. You hadn’t expected the ten of hearts game to appear just as you leave Chishiya. You also hadn’t expected the massacre of the Beach through a witch hunt. Everything about this is unexpected, just like everything that has happened so far in this world you didn’t ask to be in.

Niragi missed anything vital or permanently life-altering, you know that much given your medical background. He missed the femoral artery, you were pretty sure about it. Well, not that he was aiming for it when he started his reckless free-shooting. You were one of the bodies thrown off to the ground and was shot in the leg. 

Arisu and Usagi scream for you as you hit the ground with a thud, your arms stopping your head from the impact. With a groan, you lie your head on the ground in defeat. 

Usagi starts moving instead of checking on you, maneuvering and avoiding the distraught running bodies and bullets. 

You didn’t feel it at first, and then it started to hurt like a bitch that you wanted to die right there and then. How do you survive this? You immediately start thinking. The bleeding has to be stopped, for sure. How deep is the wound? That’s the first thing you have to check. But why can’t you move? You’re so tired. 

You turn your head to your left, Usagi has jumped on Niragi’s back, distracting him from his shooting rampage. Arisu comes to her aid, trying to take the gun from Niragi. In return, he gets repeatedly hit in the back by the gunned man in the process. 

Arisu couldn’t do it. He had too much injury and was weakened by the constant beating. 

Niragi was able to overpower him and kick him to the floor. He spins with his strength, sending Usagi’s body away from his back and flying to the floor with a loud impact. 

“Usagi!” you scream, despair not hidden in your voice. 

You attempt to sit up, adrenaline rush filling your senses to be able to save your friends. This was game over for you. You have no one to go back to in the real world. Chishiya is safe, you’re sure of it. Kuina is still here so he might be here too. He had to get the last card of the deck, of course. But he’ll be fine. 

With a shot leg, you won’t be able to get far anyway. 

Arisu quickly crawls in front of Usagi in a useless attempt to protect her from Niragi as he aims his gun at the both of them. They’re both weak and tired, there was no escaping from Niragi as they were his sole target. 

“You…” Niragi mutters. “I’ll kill all of you!” 

Your body was moving before you even knew it. As if you hadn’t had your thigh injured, you sprint over as a head start and jump to where the perverted asshole is. Your heart raced faster than your feet did as you shouted with all your might, raising your uninjured leg as you flew in the air. You succeed in getting Niragi’s attention as he looks up at you with wide eyes. Unlike Usagi, you don't jump to his back, instead your foot slams into his head, sending him flying across the floor. 

This attack had you rolling on the ground and then on your stomach when you land. Coughs sputter out of your mouth as the burning building’s smoke begins to affect your lungs. 

Arisu and Usagi could only look at you with stunned wide opened eyes and raised brows as you landed a few feet away from them.

“Run!” You scream at them with tight fists as you attempt to get back up again. It seems the adrenaline rush was no longer there to help you as you struggle to support yourself again. 

Niragi was getting up again. This makes you furrow your brows and groan, tears forming in your eyes in frustration as you slam your fists on the ground. There was no time. If the two try to run away in their bad state, they’ll be shot dead by Niragi. 

You’re fucked. 

Why can’t this motherfucker just die? you grimaced.

You drag your body with whatever strength you have, barely sitting up as you stare down at the man who had just gotten up to his feet with difficulty and a hand on his bleeding head. 

Just as Niragi raises his weapon, like a raging bull, Aguni rushes in and attacks him, pushing himself and Niragi into the spreading fire deeper inside the building. You could no longer see their bodies but shots were heard. 

“Three minutes remaining,” the game reminded the players.

As your body collapses on the floor in relief, all the people of the Beach rush to carry Momoka’s body to the Fire of Judgement. 

Arisu and Usagi try to help you stand but you wave them off when they successfully make you sit. “No. No. Clear the game first.” You laughed in between coughs. “I need to catch a breath.” 

Usagi tries to argue with you but you glare at her. “I’ll be out as soon as the phone dings,” you assure them.

“Can you walk?” Arisu asks as he looks at your leg.

You nod and roll your eyes. “I was a med student, Arisu. I can handle it.” 

The pair looked at each other as if communicating with their eyes and then they nod, lifting each and limping out of the building to head over to the Fire of Judgement. You watch their retreating figures, relieved that the two are safe. 

You look back down at your wounded thigh and laugh. You were probably overreacting a bit. It seems that your presumptions were correct. It didn’t hit anything bad and the bullet did enter you but exited you as well. But you do have to stop the bleeding as soon as possible. 

Great, now you’re going to have ugly scars on your thigh. So it’s bye-bye bikinis? 

You scoff and take off the white cover-up you had over yourself, leaving you in the two-piece black bikini you’ve been wearing since you arrived at the beach. You began to wrap it around your thigh skillfully just as you were taught. Blood began to seep through the cloth and you knew that soon enough, you have to replace it with a real bandage and sew the open wound.

The phone for the game dinged and you sigh in relief. They were able to burn Momoka’s body, after all. 

Definitely not with ease, you were able to push yourself back up. If it wasn’t for your determination to keep your promise to Usagi and Arisu, you would’ve just laid there for a little longer.

So much for Utopia, you thought.

As you were about to exit the building, your feet stopped on their own accord when something crossed your mind, making the corner of your lips turn up into a smirk. 

You sat on the small round marble table with your legs dangling and fingers playing with the ten of hearts card. Flames are eating up the building around you but you know you don’t have to be around here any longer. As if on cue, you see the familiar white jacket from your peripheral, bringing a sad smile to your face. 

“I saved it for you, Chishiya.”

There was no greeting needed. You turn your head to your right and give him a happier, faker smile. His eyes stray down to your injured thigh for a second but back to your face in no time. He approaches you with no caution and no clue of emotion on his face.

You don’t doubt he saw the whole ordeal back there. He probably saw you and your friends struggle as he sat back and watched the scene unfold like a movie. He watched you almost die. It was so like him, quiet and scheming as he does whatever is best for him. 

Now, he was here to steal the last remaining card too. 

“It’s no longer Shuntarou, huh?” 

He doesn’t receive any answer from you but he knows the answer why. You were still mad at him. How could you not? He practically sent your comrades to their deathbeds if it wasn’t for the unexpected game venue. 

“To be honest, I don’t think it’s even important if we collect all the cards,” you confessed as you stare at the single card in your hand, flipping to its front and back. You finally turn your whole body to face him, stretching your arm to offer the card to him. “But here, just so you have it all.” 

He raises a brow, staring at you with a smirk. Goddamn, is he attractive. It’s so unfair. 

His mouth opens, about to say something but another person walks in. He realizes this when your eyes stray from his and shift to the tall woman in a blue swimsuit. You smile at her, uncaring of the interruption. 

“You two are quite persistent, aren’t you?” Kuina asks with a smirk. Chishiya turns to look at her for a second before facing you again. 

She nods over to your still wrapped-up thigh. “That was cool–what you did to Niragi. Where did you learn that?”

“It was just luck,” you tell her, earning a scoff from the man in front of you. 

He takes the card from your hand. “Don’t believe her. She’s a spades player and was an athlete.” 

Among other things, sports were one of the few things you had to give up on when you were forced to pursue medicine. But you never told Chishiya that you would still make time to compete in underground fights. It was the only way you could keep doing it with your parents not knowing. So yes, you were a retired mixed martial arts athlete that eventually became skilled in street fights. 

Chishiya knew, of course. You would disappear and not bother him for weeks, healing any injuries that you incurred during the fights. Most of the time, you’ll be gone for a week. Until, there was one time in particular when you had not bothered him for almost two weeks and even canceled the date you were so excited to be on. Curiosity got the best of him, leading him to your apartment where he found you tending to your wounds alone. It was when you finally told him what you have been doing. 

“So this is what you have been up to.” 

Chishiya was leaning against the doorway with an unamused face, holding a flier of the underground fight in his hand.

You had been applying ointment on your wounds. The fight was worse than usual and your opponent decided to destroy your face. Of course, you won because you were so pissed off that you were going to have to cancel a date with Chishiya so he wouldn’t notice the black eye and your wounded nose. 

You drop the cotton bud with wide eyes and a gasp, scrambling to hide your face in your hands. 

It was kind of funny—you in your underwear, exposing all the healing bruises all over your body and face. Chishiya doesn’t react seeing you almost naked. It was like the nonchalant man doesn’t see you as a woman. 

You lower your hands from your eyes so you could see him but still enough to cover your face from the eyes down. “Are you going to tell dad?” you ask like a kid being caught shattering a vase. 

He sighs, walking over to your bed and sitting down with his hands inside his jacket’s pocket. “What would I gain from that?” It was rhetorical. You know he’ll gain nothing from saying anything. Instead, you know he’d rather keep his mouth shut and use it against you. 

In front of the mirror, you watch his reflection fixate on your body’s bruises. Suddenly feeling a bit insecure, you purse your bruised lips and head over to your closet to grab a silk robe to wrap around your half-naked self. 

“Why are you here, Shuntarou?” you ask with folded arms.

He shrugs and looks away from you. “‘Was curious.”

Silence filled your room, only the ticking of your wall clock being heard. You sigh. “I won’t stop doing it,” you tell him firmly. 

“I know,” he responds as if he expected you to say that. “But tell me, how long do you plan to keep on doing this?” He raises the flier in his hand again as if mocking you with it. 

You understand. You used to fight in arenas with media, judges, journalists, and opponents who are trained the same way as you. Underground fighting—it was different. It’s illegal, messier, and deadlier. Often, there are no rules. It’s quite literally beat your opponent to death or be beaten to death. Sometimes, weapons are even snuck in and nobody cares if it’s against the rules. 

It was dangerous for you but more dangerous for your family name. 

But you couldn’t help it, the rush it gives you—it made you feel alive more than championships ever did. 

To hide the bruises from your father, you would over-accessorize and constantly shop for new clothes. During the day, you were the rich and elegant daughter he wanted. But at night, you were a fighter under a different name and a mask.

When you don’t answer, Chishiya dismisses the question and looks over the medicine you got for yourself on your vanity table. “There’s better ointment than that.” 

You roll your eyes. Of course, he has to be smarter about that. “It’s the only brand the nearest drugstore had.” 

Then you grin, a thought coming into your mind. “Maybe you can help me apply it?” 

“No,” he stands up from your bed. “I’m leaving.” 

But he didn’t and he spent the night treating your wounds like a doctor should.

“Well, I have to go back to my friends,” you brought yourself to your feet, a hand hovering over your injured thigh. Kuina reached over to help you but you rejected her attempt with a smile. There’s a struggle but you were able to walk away from them even with the pain. 

You would kill for crutches right now. 

“Wait!” Kuina stops you. You turn around, confused as she approaches you. She removes the sword sheath from her shoulder and hands it over to you. You quickly recognize this as The Last Boss’, the militant always around Niragi, sword. “You can use this to steady yourself.”

You smile and take it from her. “Thank you,” you accept it with genuine gratitude, looking over to Chishiya who was watching the exchange quietly on the side.

“I’ll see you around, Kuina.” 

Arisu, Usagi, and you found a place to stay along with the others from the Beach. There, you tended to your wounds and recovered. There were no games. Those whose visas were about to expire tried to go to previous game venues but nothing happened.

It’s as if Borderlands completely stopped.

Some assume that the games are over since all the numbered cards were completed but you know that’s hardly the case. This is the silence before the storm—a grace period if you will. 

“Where’s Usagi?” you ask Arisu when you wake up and the pretty climber was nowhere to be found. He was looking better and his injuries were mostly healed.

“She went and looked for supplies with the others,” he answered with a yawn. 

Even if the three of you only spent a few days at the Beach, everyone began to miss the luxury of hotel beds, warm breakfast, hot showers, and electricity. Following the ten of hearts game, the survivors camped together. Eventually, it began to be suffocating as the same people reminded them of the Witch Hunt massacre. Most militants were eaten by their guilt and left, while those who had their comrades killed by militants still felt disgusted by them and chose to separate from the group. Wounds heal but they can’t be rushed. 

The three of you stayed with Ann and Tatta, hopping from one place to another for a few nights. 

Last night, you stayed at a small house with two bedrooms which were occupied by the girls and boys each. It didn’t have much supply hence why Usagi must’ve gone with Tatta and Ann. 

You were pretty much useless because of your injury and one of your three companions always had to stay with you even if you try to assure them you’ll be fine. It was mostly Arisu who was being overprotective. You had a hunch that it was mostly because it was a leg injury. It must’ve hit close to home, you think. 

Nevertheless, you were thankful for their care. Plus, it was a good thing that the games have somehow stopped for a while because you surely wouldn’t have survived with a leg you could barely walk on. The bullet missed your muscle or any artery, what it hit was mostly fat. 

You raised your leg on the coffee table while you sat on the couch. You could walk better now and maybe even run. You haven’t pushed it though, opting to do exercises that would help you recover faster. You were a spades player, after all. It wouldn’t do you any good when the games finally start.

“It’s a good thing you were in med school,” Arisu points to your leg. You gave him a wide grin, taking in the compliment.

“What a shame it was so boring,” you say. 

Arisu smiles, handing you the cup of instant ramen. You thanked him quietly and began to eat. He sits down beside you and eats his cup too. For a minute, the only thing that could be heard in the living room was the sound of your slurps and chewing. 

“So,” Arisu started, “I’m sorry about Chishiya.” 

You shrug, trying not to show how the C-word affects you. “I’m sorry too. Y’know, because he basically tried to kill you and Usagi. I know that you mostly trusted him because of my feelings for him.” 

“That’s what I’m sorry for,” he explains, “I didn’t think he’d betray you too. I thought he really cared for you. Especially when he said those things about you.” 

His words make you pause from your meal, looking at the shaggy-haired boy in curiosity and confusion. “What things?” you ask and begin to chew again, this time slowly, waiting for your friend’s answer. 

“He told me we shouldn’t include you in our plans because…” He set down his cup on his lap and chewed away the fullness of his mouth before continuing. “Because he doesn’t want you in any danger. He said ‘I’m sure you understand. If you were in my place, you wouldn’t want the only person you like in this life to be in any danger.’” 

Your breath catches in your throat. You know it wasn’t real. But to hear that Chishiya Shuntarou said those words about you even if they were lies? You wish you would’ve heard it yourself. In fact, you would give an arm and a leg for him to say that to you.

Arisu sighed, slumping his back on the couch. “He said it was still my choice if I’ll ask you and it was just his simple request. I was an idiot. I didn’t know he was doing it because he knows you’ll figure out his real plans if you knew our plan.” 

You stayed silent for a few seconds and then replied in a low voice. “You’re not an idiot.” A frown paints on your face. “He’s a manipulative motherfucker, that’s what he is.” 

“What made you like him so much, then?” Arisu lets his curiosity free with the question.

His question was valid. It’s no doubt that the asshole was attractive and cool. These are traits he had in common with millions of men in the world so why Chishiya of all people? Is it because you had no option? But you do. In fact, you hated the idea of your parents saying you’ll marry one of their friends’ sons. 

But heck, do your parents know you. They’re clever, you’ll admit. They really got you where they wanted you. 

“I’m sorry, I’m late!” 

The door opens with a loud thud, revealing you with your hands on your knees, in your messily worn high school uniform, and catching your breath from the running. You came from morning training for the Karate team but lost track of time. All your classmates had their eyes on you, some snickering and laughing at you. 

“Miss L/N, that’s the third time this month,” your teacher deadpans while still writing on the board. 

“I know, sir! I’ll try my very very very best not to do it again this month, sir!” You shout, grinning from ear to ear as you stand up straight with your left arm on your sides and your other hand in a salute. Your teacher sighs, muttering “this month” and shaking his head, making the class laugh. 

“Just get back to your seat, L/N,” he replies in defeat. 

“Yes, sir!” you agree and set down your salute back into a military stance. Your class laughs once again and you laugh along with them. You head to your seat at the back of the class, a few of your classmates giving you a high-five greeting as you pass by them. 

Your steps halt when you notice you finally have a seatmate. He had mid-length blonde hair, half of it tied up with a few strands on the sides of his face. He wasn’t even looking at you, focusing on the writing on the blackboard instead. The stranger intrigued you so you raise a brow and look at your side where your nearest classmate sat. 

“The new student,” he whispers. “His name is Chishiya Shuntarou.” 

You smirk, thanking your classmate and heading over to your designated seat. You set down your backpack on the floor and sat down, facing the new student who was still not acknowledging you with his stare. 

“Hi. I’m Y/N L/N,” you introduce yourself and hold out your hand. “Let’s be friends, yeah?”

The stranger stops writing his notes and finally looks at you straight in the face and then back to your hand. 

He just ignores you and continues writing his notes again. 

You stare at him dumbfounded with your held-out hand, frozen and in disbelief. ‘What an asshole,’ you think. You shrug anyway and retract your hand, sitting properly to face the board. 

“Chishiya, right?” you start a conversation even if you sense that he won’t bother answering. “Why would you transfer in the middle of the semester?” You were bringing out your notebook when a thought passed by you.

Then it clicks. “Chishiya, that sounds familiar.” You say to yourself particularly when you flip open the pages of your notebook to a blank page. 

“Idiot.” It was him mumbling but you hear it all too well.

Your mouth drops at his voice and it finally hits you. It was him. Chishiya Shuntarou, son of most of your hospitals’ directors. You see him during events your parents drag you to ever since you were children. He was always reserved and quiet but you always admired him, even harboring a little crush on him. You’ve been so deep into your sports for years that you actually forgot what your life was like before you found something that really excited you. 

A smile unconsciously spreads on your face in recalling the memory. 

“Shuntarou,” you pause. “He grounds me down.”

Do you think Chishiya was a good person? Definitely not. You weren’t perfect, either. People are neither good nor bad. There’s no such simple person as that. Chishiya is a troubled person. He’s struggling with how to connect with himself and others. This is something you find in common with him. 

When you are in trouble, Chishiya always finds a way to be there for you in his own way. You used to think that he cares about you and you liked to think that way still. But for now, you two have different priorities. You are at war. 

And no one comes out the same person they were before the battle started.

“You sure about this, Y/N?” 

Usagi was asking you for the nth time. You nod. “I’m all healed,” you reply. That was partly true. You’re sure you can run now but there’s still a limit to what you can do specifically in terms of fighting. But you were stubborn enough not to leave Arisu and Usagi to investigate the Minami-Aoyama station alone.

The three of you traced the steps of Asahi and Momoka from the video that Arisu found on the phone she left behind. You walked in the dark train tracks just like they did until you found a door. 

It was opened so Arisu cautiously heads in while the two of you trail behind him, ready for any attack to come but there was nothing. You continued to walk the empty hallway, searching for the place in the video.

Arisu halts his step and you realize you were here. The three of you entered the dark room, Arisu pointing his flashlights around it. 

The lively room filled with monitors and people cheering in the video was now a dark lifeless room with multiple dead people slumped over monitors and evidence of being shot by a laser. They seemed to be players in Borderland too but unlike you, they were well-groomed and well-fed. 

“Holy shit,” you mumbled.

“You actually found this place.”

A voice startles the three of you and Arisu immediately points the flashlight in the direction of the voice. From another entrance of the room, Chishiya and Kuina strut in. You put on your guard. Why was he here? Are they one of the dealers? It’s unlikely the case but why?

“As expected from someone I have high hopes for,” the blonde continued.

“We meet again,” Kuina speaks. 

Usagi doesn’t hide the disgust in her tone and countenance. “It’s you,” she says with furrowed brows, no doubt still mad over the pair’s betrayal. Kuina looks away in slight guilt, looking over at Chishiya.

You follow her gaze and notice he no longer wears the jacket you gave him. Instead, he wore a blue and white gradient cardigan over his shirt. You feel a tad of disappointment in your heart at the thought that he has thrown it away or lost it. 

“Thanks to you, I have all the numbered playing cards with me.” He held up the deck of cards as he says it, a condescending smirk painted on his face. He truly is a despicable human being. 

Arisu glares at him and flatly asks, “How did you find this place?”

Chishiya brings out a small folded piece of paper and unfolds it to show you its contents. “It took me a while to realize that this is actually the route map of a subway station.” From afar, the drawing really did look like random scribbles. It’s a good thing that the man is observant. You don’t know where he got it but Arisu may have had a clue as you see the expression on his face. They have both participated in a game, after all.

“What happens when we collect all the cards?” He saunters closer to you with his hands in his pockets. “I thought I’d find the answer if I come here.” His eyes explore the room. “But there’s only one thing I discovered.”

“They’re not game masters,” Arisu cuts him off, finishing his sentence. 

“Right,” Chishiya agrees. “Judging from the fact that they were all killed after our victory. They’re humans like us and on top of that, there’s someone above them.” 

You scoff. “What? Like a God?” 

“Just who could they be?” Usagi asks no one in particular as she looks at Chishiya.

“Who knows? They might be aliens,” he pauses and shifts his eyes to you with a smug and mocking face, “or as your friend said, even God himself.” It was the first time he acknowledged you in the room. You raise a brow, slightly offended. His bitter tone doesn’t pass by you and the fact that he called you ‘your friend’ instead of your name, vexed you.

Not that you planned to give him a reaction but if you did, you wouldn’t be given the chance because the lights of the room turned on, followed by the wall of multiple television and computer screens circling the room accompanied by heightened ceremonial music. 

The screens reveal a familiar face—the executive specializing in the hearts game, Mira, sitting on a chair in a black gown. A vicious smile is plastered on her face. It sets an eerie feeling in your heart. What kind of fucked up shit is happening here?

“Congratulations to all players,” her voice sent chills down your spine. “With the exception of the face card games, all of you have cleared all thus far and emerged as victors by sacrificing numerous lives.” 

Her head tilts to the side, feigning innocence and wonder. “I wonder how many of your comrades have died?” 

She stands up, raising an arm. “Try to remember those that were shot dead with a gun.” She walks around as the screen shows recorded videos of the games. “That girl that you burned alive, those struck with the lasers, those that drowned, those whose heads were blown off, those comrades of yours.” You feel Arisu flinch beside you at the mention of the last sentence. 

“The despair you’ve felt so far and those dying moments that you can never forget.” 

One particular screen catches your eye but not because of a man’s head being blown off. It was because standing near that man was a familiar shaggy-haired boy. Your gaze flits to the man’s face beside you and you see the flash of horror in his eyes as the screams of people from the games fill your ears. 

“I’m extremely touched!” Mira exclaims. “All of you players, we would like to give you a present.” Her movements were odd as if she was really excited about this. One thing’s for sure, whatever’s Mira’s role is in this world, she isn’t being forced to do it. 

“Are you returning us to the original world?” Kuina thinks out loud. You purse your lips, doubting that that’s the case. 

Mira gasps, eyes widening as her body shakes in excitement. “There will be new games!” She exclaims happily like the words don’t mean death and destruction on a whole new level. “Let’s play games together. You’ll fight for face cards.” 

“Wow,” you react with a flat tone. “She’s fucked in the head.”

There’s disbelief in Kuina’s voice when she asks, “New games?” 

“I don’t dislike the idea,” Chishiya says, the smirk not being wiped off his face. Your fists clench at his words. You don’t understand him. How could he like these games? Death, betrayal, being played around like lab rats—were those entertaining to him? You always thought Chishiya was a little bit different than most and he was just doing his most to survive but is this a side to him that you’ve blinded yourself to? 

“We’ve still got many more wonderful games prepared for all of you, so look forward to it!” Mira ends her ridiculous speech. 

“This woman…” Usagi finally speaks.”Is she the game master?” 

“I’d rather see an alien appear on the screen.” Kuina thinks out loud. 

“The next stage will commence tomorrow at noon,” the camera zooms in on Mira’s face. “Let’s have some fun together!” 

“So we have to fight again,” Usagi says, feeling defeated.

“Yes,” Arisu replies. “But something is different... we’re finally seeing our target.” He says with his eyes focused on Mira, glaring and determined. 

“You’re mad again,” Chishiya states the obvious in the dark of the room you’ve entered.

You slam yourself on the nearest display bed, looking around the furniture store you’ve sheltered in from the King of Spades. By not answering Chishiya, you clearly agree with his suspicion. Of course, you were pissed off. If he ran with urgency as a normal person does, maybe you would’ve been able to jump inside that car with your friends. 

“It’s not like we would’ve fit. I’m sure you’ll find them again,” he assures you, unconvincingly with a bitter tone in his voice.

He looks at the sky through the glass window of the store. “The blimp is gone,” he observes out loud. “We can rest here if you want and then we can go.” 

“If his whole Arena is Tokyo, then that means we have no choice but to join the other games,” you think out loud. There are 12 face cards, meaning there’d be 11 games out there and one game where a single overpowered man aims to shoot down every player out here. Even if you were a spades player, your combat skills, no matter how great, are no match with his unending ammo. You can’t exactly kick or punch those bullets away. 

“That’s the point,” he replies flatly. 

You glare at him, scoffing and lying down on the bed fully with your head resting on your arm. “You should get me food,” you tell him and ignore his sarcastic remark. You don’t really expect him to comply, you were just doing it to get on his nerves like usual. 

“Do it yourself,” he says with a sigh. 

“As you can see, I’m injured…” You point to your thigh wound that was still wrapped and can be seen clearly from the ends of your gym shorts. Obviously, that was a lie and you can move freely now. “And hungry.” 

He scoffs, sitting on the mattress next to you. Deafening silence began to fill the room and you almost forget that Chishiya is in the same room as you. His presence begins to make you uncomfortable, not because you hated him but because you don’t like him seeing you vulnerable. So, you turn to your side with your back facing him. 

The king of spades, he just destroyed everyone out there. These next games, they’re much crueler than the numbered ones. You barely made it out alive and now you have to participate in harder games? And when they’re all over, who’s to say that you could actually go back?

Do you even want to go back?

If you were to die here, it wouldn’t be much loss to the real world, anyway. Things haven’t changed despite the circumstances—your priority was still to get Chishiya out of here if he can. You’re sure you will see Usagi and Arisu again. They’ll be fine. They even got Kuina, Ann, and Tatta by their side. Maybe you were separated from them so you can protect Chishiya somehow. 

You don’t doubt that he’d want to join the diamond games. In fact, maybe he’s even excited about it. If it came down to you joining him in one, you’ll try your best to help him win. But if you two somehow find yourself in a game where he will need your strength, you’d be glad to be there with him. 

The thing is, you know you would sacrifice yourself for him but the question is, would he willingly sacrifice you to win?

As you drown in your thoughts, your body shuts down to sleep, suddenly exhausted from all the running. 

The dress you wore flowed freely, the ends dragging on the floor. Even if you find yourself more at home with gym clothes, dressing up did excite you too. It just wasn’t as convenient as gym clothes where you can move freely. 

Tonight, you were ecstatic as the lavender gown you had a famous designer made sculpted your upper body perfectly as you fit it the night before the dance. Giggling, you think back to the blonde’s acceptance of your invitation to the school event. 

“So, Shuntarou, have you asked someone to the dance yet? or maybe been asked by someone?” you ask as you sat beside him in the classroom during break time.

“If you wouldn’t glare at any girl that would approach me, maybe someone would’ve.” He replies in a monotone voice as he eats his cookies. It was his favorite brand. 

“I do not glare,” you reply, glaring. “And if you want to go with someone, just tell me who and I’ll help you.” 

He raises a brow, finally looking at you but with full judgment. He knows you’re bluffing. “At least try.” 

You lose your facade. “Ok, then. Will you go with me to the dance?”

“I don’t really have a choice, do I?” he replies, dull as always.

You skip around your room, heart fluttering at the thought of slow dancing with the nonchalant blonde boy. You imagine the jealous stares of the girls who have a crush on him. You couldn’t help it. You were in high school and in love. 

Afraid to accidentally damage the dress in any way, you remove it and keep it in a safe place. Tomorrow, you’ll have a team to help you get ready. Then, Chishiya will fetch you and you will go to the dance together. 

In your excitement, you forgot to drink water or even eat dinner. You were only reminded when you feel your throat get parched. With that realization, you head to the kitchen to get something to eat. 

As you were munching on some leftover pasta you found, you hear your father’s voice in the living room. Since when was he home? You become more cautious of your actions, careful not to make any noise as you eat. It’s better to not encounter him at all.

“Ah, he’s taking her to some school dance? That’s good.” School dance? What is he talking about? 

Due to curiosity, you leave your food and tiptoe closer to eavesdrop on the conversation. It seems that he’s on the phone. 

“She’s still a kid, wasting her time on stupid matters. It’s good that Shuntarou is already thinking about a future in medicine.” Shuntarou? You now realize that he’s talking to Shuntarou’s dad and with the tone of his voice at the mention of ‘her,’ it’s safe to assume that he’s talking about you. Your father hated the numerous extracurriculars you were doing, especially those of sports. He always believed they were a waste of time and that if you wanted to do extracurriculars, you should’ve just joined the student council. 

“They’ve been getting along well, I’ve heard. As soon as Shuntarou finishes his residency and gains a little experience, we can have them married,” your father speaks to his phone. 

You froze at hearing the word ‘married.’ What did he mean by that? Could it be… Chishiya and you were being arranged to be married? And then it hit you. It’s all planned. The reason why Chishiya was transferred to your school in the middle of the semester after some unknown reason is because of your father. He was transferred there for you. 

Your father says more to his friend on the phone. It was all about you and Chishiya and some for the hospital. From what you’ve gathered, it was so Chishiya can inherit the position of chairman. 

You can practically hear your heart shatter as it sinks to the ground. At such a young age, your father doesn’t believe in you. It’s always been like this. He just believed from the get-go that you didn’t have it in you to win. You weren’t gifted like him. 

Chishiya is the child he wants, not you. 

“Tell Chishiya to keep up the good work. I’ll give him a reward for taking my daughter to the dance.”

And it seems that Chishiya knows all about it too. 

Your eyes fluttered open, lids feeling a bit heavy because of the unexpected sleep. As you sat up, your throat immediately felt parched from thirst. You really needed water. 

Looking around, you find no sign of your companion. You felt a funny feeling in your stomach, wondering where he had gone. Has he already gone and joined a game? It seemed like something he would do here in Borderland, leave you in the middle of nowhere alone and unguarded. 

You were about to stand up to actually look for the blonde man when you noticed something new on the display side table of the bed you slept on. It was unopened canned food and a bottle of water. There was no note or anything but it could only be from the blonde-haired guy himself. Has he really gone out alone and looted food for you?

You decide to quench your thirst first before dealing with him, grabbing the plastic bottle in a swift motion and opening the cap hastily before drinking in chugs. 

“Slow down.” 

As if on cue, Chishiya enters the furniture shop, now in the white jacket you gave him. Where did he hide that? Did he go back to where he left it when you were asleep?

You brought the bottle from your lips, staring at him like a puzzle. “Where did you go?” 

“Outside,” he answers flatly. You glare at him. “Just say thank you for the food and water.”

You don’t answer right away, watching silently as the man sits down again on the bed next to you, laying down some things he probably found around. It’s weird how it oddly felt domestic. If you were to disregard the numerous pieces of furniture around you, you could imagine yourself in a place in the real world where you two have your own home, happily married, and are in possession of what you two always wanted. 

You shake off the thought. Not only is that impossible in Borderland, but it’s also impossible in the real world. 

You open the canned food. It was mixed fruits. After you thanked him softly, you began to eat quietly, chewing slowly as he said to.

“Have you eaten?” you ask as he stares at you. He gives you a nod before taking his eyes off you and back to his tinkering. 

“Are you joining a game soon?” you attempt a conversation again. 

“I think we have to,” he answers.

He was right. “Yeah.” You bit your lip, afraid to ask what’s been lingering in your mind. “Do… do you want to join a game together?” 

He stills, “no.” 

“Why not? I’m strong. I can protect you,” you point at the sword you laid on the ground. 

“That’s not enough,” Chishiya answers in a heartbeat. 

“Would you rather I die alone?” It was a tough question. Not for him but for you. If you were going to be asked, you’d rather have your last moments with him. 

He audibly tsks, standing up from the bed and putting his hands in his pockets. He walks away from you and the conversation. Disappointment creeps into your skin. You knew he wouldn’t care about your sentiments. 

His hand stays on the door, not opening it yet. “Tomorrow,” he speaks, not even turning around to look at you. “We’ll join a game together.”

It sent a chill down your spine. You didn’t know what his motives are. Did he decide to go on a game with you because of what you asked… or did it give him an idea to finally end you?

It’s a good thing that the next stage shows you what game you will be entering through the blimps. The game you enter varies on one’s strengths and risks. You know that you wouldn’t willingly enter a Hearts game with the people you care about and you would try to enter a game you specialize in. 

“No heart games,” Chishiya tells you. 

You’ve found yourself inside a small home to spend the night in. It was safer than the furniture store with glass windows. You thought it’d be nice to decide on what game to choose.

You felt the mattress dip beside you, indicating Chishiya sat down. 

The house was small and cozy. It was a one-bedroom and looked like it belonged to a couple simply because it had everything by pair. What made you stay though, is that Chishiya has found their secret stash of food that was hidden inside the bedroom and under the floors of the closet.

The supply could last you maybe about a week.

You turn your head to Chishiya. It was already night time and you only had a candlelight lamp lighting up the room. He has taken off his jacket, leaving him in his shirt and pants. 

It was not the first time you’d shared a bed. When your families would go on trips together, they’d make you share a room. If you didn’t know about your father’s plans, you would find it odd how they were too willing for you two to get along that they were putting their young adult child inside a bedroom with a guy her age. 

During those trips, you would fall asleep on his bed while telling him stories. At first, Chishiya would leave you be and sleep on your bed. Until one night, when it became too frequent, he just slept beside you. And then the rest was history. 

As he lies down beside you, you hear his gentle breathing, see the rise and fall of his chest, and the way he inhales and exhales. It seemed that he was in deep thought. Could it be that he was worried about the games too?

“How about a Diamonds game?” you suggest. You think that you were pretty smart and you could handle it more with him by your side.

Chishiya doesn’t answer, looking like he’s in deep thought. 

“Kuina and the others probably joined a Clubs game.” you continue. “Maybe we should join one too.”

The thought brings you back to your comrades. It’s possible that they joined a game together—a Clubs game is the safest bet if they all want to live. Maybe it’s what you and Chishiya can do too. 

“We’ll join the Queen of Clubs. It’s the nearest clubs game.” The man beside you finally speaks, his voice a little tired. 

You agree, nodding lightly. You spun to your side with your back facing him as he lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Goodnight, Chishiya,” you mumble, still not being able to call him by his first name. He doesn’t answer but you hear him subtly hum in response. 

The sun was setting when you and Chishiya reach the arena. 

After a bit of walking, your mouth drops as you realize that the Queen of Clubs blimp is hovering over a high school building. Specifically, the prestigious high school you and Chishiya attended. 

“How fitting,” Chishiya reacts with a bored tone.

Sometimes, you feel like the games are catered to the players. Like they know all your life stories. This high school being the game arena, is it to your advantage or disadvantage? Whatever it is, you have no choice but to find out. This is your first game in the second stage, and it’s a Clubs game. If the two of you work with other players well, the chance of survival is high. 

That should be the mindset for the numbered games but right now, you weren’t sure because these are face card games. If the numbered games were difficult as it is, you should be terrified and ready for the face cards. 

“I can go in alone,” you suddenly say, afraid to go in there together with him. 

“You’re kidding,” he scoffs and walks closer to the entrance. “After all that talk about dying alone?” 

The anxiety that was creeping into your skin would put you at a disadvantage. You know that Chishiya could handle himself but you couldn’t help but be worried for him. Sighing, you shake off the worry and decide to push through with joining the game with him.

You enter the arena first and look back. Chishiya stares at you for a few seconds, as if contemplating or memorizing your face. And then he follows you inside. What was that?

The other players were gathered in front of the building, right on the grass field. There were about six people there already. Chishiya followed you inside but didn’t walk beside you or near you. It was probably to not make people assume you know each other. On top of a table were metal cuffs that had a screen, looking like a smartwatch. From the looks of it, it seems that it was the same material as the collars they make you wear in the other games only this time, they were bracelets.

1 PER PERSON

There were two left when Chishiya and you took yours. You clasp it around your non-dominant hand’s wrist and watch as the game confirms your registration. Looking around, you found the other players looking at you. It made you feel a bit insecure but you’ve been in enough games to know that you shouldn’t let them get to you. It should be the other way around. 

Another hand reaches for a phone on the table and you look up at her. She looks a bit like a high schooler, wearing a skirt from a uniform and a white tank top. She had a bow and arrow on her back. 

Her stare turns into a glare and you frown. It was she who broke eye contact first and stepped away from the table. As she turns around, it was hard not to notice that she was missing a foot, replaced with some kind of metal. She looks interesting to you. 

REGISTRATION HAS CLOSED. THE GAME WILL NOW COMMENCE. 

The familiar AI voice of a woman is heard through the campus speakers.

Chishiya crosses his arms, waiting for something to happen next. You look up at the screen that was stationed there. As if on cue, the screen lights up, flashing some kind of silhouette of a woman’s head with a crown. 

DIFFICULTY

Queen of Clubs

GAME

Prom Queen

Rules:

Each classroom has votes for players to collect or challenges for players to complete. 

The players must collect enough points to enter the gym, where the Queen of Clubs will give them one last challenge. 

The votes are transferable to another player but physical assault and force transfer of votes to another player is not allowed. 

If the player does not complete the challenge in the room, the room takes their votes. 

No weapons allowed inside the building.

CLEAR CONDITION

The players must have more votes than the Queen of Clubs and complete her last challenge.

GAME OVER

Players do not gather enough votes to dethrone the Queen of Clubs.

Players do not complete the last challenge. 

TIME LIMIT

02:00:00 HRS

You scoff and remove the Katana from your shoulder, putting it on the table. The other players began to gather around it, putting their weapons with yours. 

GAME START

You look around at the other players. You give them a nod. 

“Alright. Let’s meet by the gym doors after we collect all points,” a man who has glasses said. He wore stripe shirts and was fairly tall. He seemed smart and gave the impression of a leader. It doesn’t look like he’s physically fit, though. 

The other players do not waste time, scurrying into the building with determination and a little bit of fear. You stayed behind for a few seconds, looking at Chishiya. He stares back at you with no expression on his face and heads into the building.

There was the girl who had a bow and arrow, still looking at you. You give her a nod. It didn’t look like she could be trusted but this is a Clubs game, after all. You have to work together to survive. She doesn’t give you the same attitude as earlier. Instead, she approaches you, giving you a nod back. 

“Akane Heiya,” she introduces herself to you.

“Y/N L/N,” you reply with your name. 

The two of you enter the building together, cautious of the darkness that plagues it. You pick up the small flashlight from your belt bag. You can hear the scrambling of the foot of the other players, no doubt racing to get to the classrooms faster.  “The rules didn’t say how much we need, so maybe we can go and check the gym and see if there’s a clue?” you ask her. 

“I’ll go check,” she tells you.

“You sure?” you ask her, wanting to know if she doesn’t need a companion. 

She nods. “One of us should help collect votes.” 

As soon as you nod, she was already on her way to look for the gym. You decide to head to the nearest classroom without a player in it already. 

You stand before a classroom door that has a red light on it. You assume that if the votes in this classroom haven’t been collected, its red light is still on. 

It wasn’t dark inside the classroom, the sun has almost set all the way but there was still a bit of light seeping through the windows of the room. As you step in, the door shuts behind you. You panic for a bit, checking the door knob if it still works. You groan when you realize that you’re shut in. 

The lights of the classroom turned on and a tv screen that was in the middle of the chalkboard flashes a question. 

In printing, it’s the color black. In chemistry, it’s potassium. In baseball, it’s a strikeout. Which letter is it?

It was an easy question but there were about maybe forty classrooms in this school. There are nine players. If your hunch was right, there should be a difficulty level or random variation of the difficulty of the challenges on each floor, there are eight classrooms. You were on the first floor. 

“K,” you answer confidently. 

The room speakers gave out a ‘ding’ sound and some kind of button on the teacher’s desk lights up a green color and you walk towards it. You hesitantly press it and your wrists light up with a green color. 

+ 50 votes

You hear the lock of the door click open and you step out. You look up at the light on the door and see that the previous red light has been shut off. 

Walking down the hallway, some girl who looked like she was in her thirties, wearing office attire approaches you. “How many votes did you get?” she asks, pointing at her wrist. 

“50,” you reply. 

Another man completes his room and hears what you were talking about, approaching you two.  “It was hidden in one of the lockers at the back. I got 50 too.” 

You nod at them. “It seems that this floor is just full of 50 votes per room.”

Not wasting any more time, you and the others who have completed your rooms head to the second floor. Chishiya was already on the second floor, stepping outside one of the rooms. You approach him. “How many votes in this one?” you ask. 

He shows his wrist, flashing the number on his band. 75. Just as you thought.

“So the floors are kind of the levels, huh?” The man in the striped shirt asks you. You nod. 

“There isn’t a goal of votes by the gym.” 

All of you turn your heads to the source of the voice. Heiya stood there, her chest heaving from the running. You don’t doubt that she was tired—the gym was a bit of a walk from the classrooms. You probably should’ve told her that.

“That must mean we should clear all the rooms.” A woman with a crossbody bag spoke up, joining all of you. 

“Then let’s do that,” the man in the striped shirt speaks again. 

You and the other players moved as quick as you can. You learned that when you don’t succeed with their mini games inside the classrooms, you’re lasered down and another player has to go to that classroom to finish the task.

In the end, it was six of you who lasted. 

The first floor has eight rooms opened with 50 votes each. The second has eight rooms and 75 votes each. The third floor has three rooms with 100 votes each. The fourth floor has two rooms with 150 votes each. Lastly, the fifth floor had one room with 400 votes. 

Together, you accumulated 2000 votes. However, it was separated from your wrists. When you reached the gym, whenever you tried, it would show ‘error’ on the electronic lock. 

It had to be 2000 on one wrist.

“That means… only one of us gets to go inside?” A girl with a headband says, her eyes looking scared. 

You furrow your brows, thinking. “The game said we only need to dethrone her with more votes. Only one needs to do her challenge and then the game should clear.”

“Right,” a man in a plain white shirt replies. “This is a Clubs game. That should be the case.” 

“Okay, so who will go?” The woman in office attire asks, her voice trembling a bit.

Each one of you stares at each other, feeling each other out like teenagers afraid of a graded recitation in class. You don’t blame them, you don’t know what exactly the challenge would ask of you. 

“I’ll go,” Heiya rolls her eyes impatiently, holding out her wrist as she waits for the other players to move. 

“No. Most of the rooms’ challenges are about intellect. It should be me,” stripe shirt complained. Now you know what irks you about this man, he was controlling and stupidly wants to be seen as somewhat of a main character. 

Heiya glares at him. “So what? You think you’re the smartest in the room?” She bites, raising her brows. You try your best not to laugh at her accusation and lightly strike your elbows to her side, telling her to tone it down.

“That’s not what I meant,” the man replies, offended and furrowing his brows.

“The challenge wouldn’t be about intelligence,” For the first time in the game, Chishiya finally speaks, making all the other players’ heads turn to him. 

He shows everyone a piece of paper in his hands. 

The Ivy Award 2020 — Yamada Asaki

No way, could it be?

“After the rooms were cleared per floor, the lights turned on but kept flickering. It made up a morse code. The first floor is I, the second floor is V, and the third floor is Y.” He makes his way near the circle, showing everyone the paper that turned out to be a certificate. “And then I found this on the fourth floor, confirming the morse code.”

“What is this supposed to be?” The man in stripe asks, a bit irritated. 

Chishiya stares at him, giving him all his focus with dark eyes. “In the classrooms of the fifth floor, there were shelves containing the awards of this awardee. The Ivy Award was a special award this high school gave to those who excelled in all athletics in the school while maintaining top grades.” 

Chishiya pauses, now shifting his eyes to yours. You look away and avoid his gaze. “There are only two people who received that award in this school.” 

“Yamada Asaki,” he looks down at the paper in his hand. “And Y/N L/N.” His gaze goes back to you, communicating a million words in one simple stare.

You froze at the mention of your name. Heiya, in her tall stature, looks down at you. “You?” she asks in disbelief and a smirk. 

You glare at Chishiya, not understanding why he dropped your name and history out of nowhere. Then you look at Heiya who was waiting for your response.

“That’s true,” you admit, looking down at your feet. 

“In fact, she was the first awardee—the reason why the award was made in the first place.” Chishiya gives you a smirk. 

You still remember when you were awarded that day. The school made the award for you for the sole reason that universities around the world were contacting them to take you in as their athlete on full scholarship. They were scrambling for your hand in college.

Your father rejected all of them. He used all his power to stop you from going.

Up till now, the award was a topic you don’t like talking about. It was hard for you to remember how much you were controlled and manipulated into staying in Japan. 

“The person you’ll be facing,” He puts his eyes back on the man in the striped shirt. “Is a master of all sports and martial arts. Do you think you could handle that?” 

The man in the striped shirt couldn’t answer. 

Just like that, the other players began giving you their votes. You stand there quietly as they hover their cuffs on yours. This would mean… everyone’s life here is depending on you. 

Chishiya took the last turn in giving you his votes. He grabs your limp wrist with his right hand and hovers his cuff on yours. Your eyes are shaking in anxiety as you’re still staring at the floor. You've fought wildly when only your life is in your hands. That’s because you know that you have nothing to lose. You’ll gladly die if it’s your time to die. But right now, you have to live for these people.

“What?” he whispers. 

You finally look up into his eyes, meeting his deep stare. 

The other players watch as Chishiya leans in, whispering something in your ear. This causes you to freeze, looking up at him with awe. 

He spins you around, making you face the door. His hands are still on your shoulder when he leans in. 

He whispers in your ear again, sending shivers down your spine. For some reason, it sounded genuine. He wasn’t trying to manipulate you into going. He was motivating you, maybe even pleading. 

You turn your head to look at him, his face inches away from yours. From here, his eyes burned with something you don’t understand. There was a slight crease on his forehead that relaxed when you gave him a smile.

“Wait for me, will you, Shuntarou?” 

It was the first time you saw Chishiya smile in Borderland—and actually smile and not smirk in a condescending manner.

“You can do it,” Akane nods at you, her arms crossed. You look at her, smirking. You’ve only known the girl for an hour but you already like her. 

The other players began motivating you and you gave them all a glance before hovering your cuff on the lock of the door.

The lock dings and the door unlocks by itself. You twist the knob open, revealing the darkness of the room. 

You give one last glance to Chishiya whose eyes never left yours. You walk inside, your eyes never leaving his. He has long abandoned the smile on his face, replacing it with his famous poker face. His eyes, however, stayed expressive as if telling you’ll be fine in his own way.

The night should’ve been everything you dreamed about. 

Chishiya fetched you, wearing his suit and tie that matched your dress. The hotel venue that the school rented turned out to be designed beautifully. Everything was perfect.

If it weren’t for what you learned last night.

You acted like everything is fine, dancing with your friends as Chishiya sat on the side. To get him to come, he made a deal that he wouldn’t dance until the last. You agreed, only wanting to dance the last slow dance with him. 

Chishiya must’ve already realized something is wrong because you haven’t looked at him for more than five seconds all night. It was weird. You really wanted to be here with him yet you can’t even ask him what he thought about the food. You know that it wasn’t his fault. You were the one who approached him first and began pursuing him. He wasn’t exactly actively trying to manipulate you as your father wanted. 

But he knew. He knew what your parents wanted. 

And you, you were left in the dark again. 

The doors of the gym shut with a loud thud, leaving you in blinding darkness. 

“I hoped you would come,” it was a girl’s voice from the end of the room. 

The lights turn on and you squint your eyes as the sudden change blinds you for a second. When your eyes adjust to the brightness, you see a girl not older than a high school kid. She was wearing a black bodysuit and a crown, sitting on what looks to be like a throne on the stage. 

“You’re Yamada Asaki?” you ask, raising a brow. 

“and you’re Y/N L/N,” she replies, a smirk plastered on her face.

She stands from her throne, crossing her arms as she walks down the stage. “You know, when I heard that you’re here, I had this game designed just for you.” 

“Designed?” your eyes never leave her as you frown. These games are designed by people? 

You were curious but she ignores your question. “I wanted to see what’s so great about you.” The bitter tone of her voice doesn’t pass by you. It was clear that this girl doesn’t like you.

“Do you…” Her voice was deadly like it could cut like a sharp knife. Her eyes were focused on you like a target. “Do you know how miserable you made me feel?”

“Obviously not,” you replied with sarcasm, not giving into her sentiments. It would be better not to waste time, you only had 10 minutes left to clear the game. 

The girl audibly scoffs so you continue. “I don’t know the reason nor do I care. Tell me the challenge and we can get this over with.” 

Asaki’s gaze burn through yours as she removes the crown on her head and throws it on the ground. “The crown is worth 50 votes,” she says, eyes not leaving yours and showing you the cuff on her wrist, 2020 votes, the year she won her award. “You get it if you beat me in a fight.” She puts herself into a stance, getting ready to fight. 

“Fine,” you answer, throwing your belt bag across the floor and cracking a few bones of your knuckles. “Are there any rules?” 

It’s all bullshit. You know there are no rules in a fight for your life. This is a fight. But still, you ask. It wouldn’t hurt to know if there are. 

You read her stance. She’s good, guarded and ready. From her built, it’s clear that she’s experienced. She must be an athlete from her younger years like you. It’s a no brainer, if she’s a receiver of the Ivy Award, then she has been trained like you. 

“Rules? There are no rules. No stopping until one of us dies.” Her arrogance was something you take note of. It seems that her confidence is one of her biggest traits. For now, you need to see what she can do. 

She attacks first, swinging a fist at your face. You block it and attack with a fist, to which she follows up with a guarding technique of her arms. You move away but she follows that technique with a kick. You dodge her foot by crouching, all while staring at her with burning eyes.

Kickboxing. 

It’s the closest to modern-day MMA. From what you saw, this girl is a striker. 

You launch forward, heading for her middle. It was fast but she was able to raise her knee which you avoid. Good. She’s good. But what about her footwork? 

Pivoting your front foot, you shot your rear leg out and aim at her middle again. She quickly steps away, leaving your foot hitting nothing but the air. Great. Her footwork is good too. You jump back to your feet, raising your fists and moving away from her in a quick motion. 

“Taekwondo?” She smirks, her eyes giving you a condescending look as if she’s about to laugh. “It was your favorite, wasn’t it?”

How did she know that? This girl… just who was she and what have you done for her to know you like this?

“So you’ve studied me?” you ask with a smirk, feigning your curiosity.

“Day and night,” she replies. “I watched all your tournaments,” she jabs, you avoid. “Your championships,” she kicks, you block. “Your training,” she swings, you move away. “All because they wanted me to be like you!” She lunges forward and you let her, she grasps the back of your head and gives you a knee strike, hitting you right in the stomach.

You free yourself from her hold, stumbling and landing a few steps from her when she lets go. She laughs like a maniac. 

“You’ve become rusty,” she spats. 

“Come on,” you raise your fists into a stance once again. “I haven’t even started,” you say and give her a grin. 

Her forehead creases as she furrowed her brows, eyes blazing. So her favorite’s kickboxing. You know what to do. Her footwork’s great, her kicks and punches are strong too, it would be dangerous if she attacks you like she did last time. Front kicks are one of their best attacks. 

You attack diagonally, catching her off guard. You throw a punch and it lands straight to her face. A kickboxers’ weakness is defending an attack coming diagonally. You have to get close to her. 

You attempt to throw punches hastily, making her dodge away again and again until you corner her to a wall. She takes this as a chance to hold the back of your neck again with both hands, catching you in a Thai Clinch. Just like before, you know she’d throw you a knee strike. 

Before she could raise her knee, you put both her arms in your hold tightly, preventing her to move. Using your elbow, you give her a strike to her jaw with the single intent to create the worst damage possible. Your jab connected with a crack and you know you broke her jaw. Once the move made her lose focus, you repeatedly take a jab at her, one punch after another. 

Blood sputters out of her mouth and she spits as you move away again. You were pretty sure you saw a tooth fall out. 

“Forfeit,” you order and her bloodshot eyes gave nothing to you but hatred. You match her threatening gaze. “Before I kill you.” 

“Are you kidding?” There’s blood in the corners of her mouth from your punches yet she stands strong. 

“Seven years,” she looks up to the ceiling, tears lining up her eyes. “For seven fucking years, I was told that I should be like you.” You’ve known since she greeted you that there’s something that lies here deeper. But who cares? So she’s been forced to work hard for the award, how is that your fault?

“And you failed,” you bluntly state, eyes devoid of emotion. 

Her eyes widened in disbelief of your words. She scoffs, tears threatening to spill as she glares at you with resentment. “Failed? I won your award. I did it all!”  

An ill feeling fills your stomach as she bares herself. She had become too emotional. One thing you learned about fighting is that your opponent doesn’t care. A real opponent goes straight for the kill. This… is nothing but a sparring session. 

“So? After that, what did you do?” you ask, titling your head. 

You rush forward, spinning around and straightening your legs to kick her head mid-air. Asaki was pulled of her feet violently and thrown across the floor. She slides along the gym floor, halting just a few inches away from the wall. 

“Stand up and tell me,” you instruct her as you land. You wait for her to recover, her forehead bleeding from the impact of your kick. 

Rage colored Asaki’s vision red as she uses her arms to push herself back up. “I…” It was a weak attempt, she couldn’t even sputter out the words. Her chest heaves up and down as she stands to her feet, for a moment, you thought she was gonna puke but she recovers. “I died.”

She snarled and rushes towards you and you await her attack, ready to counter it. Mid-air she raises her fist and you raise your hand, catching her burning fists in yours. However, she uses this misdirect to knee the wound of your thigh. You grunt, taking in the pain and trying not to let it falter you. 

“You haven’t…” you grit through your teeth and use your free hand in attempt to smash it to her face. Asaki manages to block this, locking your arm and jabbing your stomach repeatedly. Using her strong hold from locking you, you jump and use both of your free legs to kick a blow to her stomach, sending you both flying away from each other and hitting the floor. 

You don’t waste any time, jumping to your feet and launching yourself to her body on the ground. You put her in a chokehold, jabbing at her face repeatedly as you sit on her stomach.  “Dying? That’s your reason?” You say to her ear. She spins, making you land on her back. You lock her with your legs, grabbing her hair to raise her head. “Give me something better.” 

You free her from your hold, jumping away from her range. 

When she fully stands up, you throw a kick as the same time as her. Her left leg hits your outer right thigh and you hit her inner right thigh. She staggers because of this and you use the opportunity to jab three heavy hits to her head. Right. Left. Right. Her head has been hit enough for it to be fatal and she falls to her back. 

Cleverly, she uses her legs and feet to block your attacks. You push through, using your body weight to receive the attacks from her legs. She locks you in with her legs on either side of your torso. You let her. If you try to escape, she’ll just lock your head. 

In the underground, you’ve fought men and women of different weights. It was often that you were underestimated because of your height and weight. So, you let them think you were weak. But what they don’t know is you got them right where you wanted them—close enough for you to kill.

You use both your hands to block hers, smashing her wrists on the floor. Then, you smash your head against hers. That doesn’t stop you. You use your elbows once again, landing one blow after another. You don’t stop even after you see her face covered in blood. 

When her hands lay limp with no force, you take a hand off and use this to grip her neck. 

She struggles to breathe from your hold but you don’t let her. If you were inside a stage, a referee would’ve stopped you by now. But that’s not the case for you. Not for a long time. 

“Where did you go last night?” 

Chishiya asks as soon as you sit down beside him in the room. You ignore him, pretending you don’t hear him because of your earphones. He’s talking about the last dance. When he wasn’t looking, you slipped away from the venue and escaped. You left your bag with him and he only noticed when he couldn’t find you in the crowd anymore. You couldn’t help it, you were overwhelmed by your father and Chishiya. Not only is he controlling your career but he’s controlling your relationships too? 

You took a cab ride away from the hotel, still wearing your gown. You told the driver to just drive around and he did. In the ride, you spot a neon signage. It was a club you always see. It had an interesting name; Sarutahiko.

You’ve seen cars come and go there. What you’ve noticed is they all seemed to be very wealthy. You asked for the car to stop by near and without thinking, you made your way into the club, clutching a wealthy man’s arm and pretending to be his date. 

That night, instead of being in Chishiya’s arms for the last dance, you won your first fight in the underground. The beloved dress you had made for thousands of dollars, they were ripped and worn when you came home, dirt and scratches running along your skin. 

It was the first time you felt it—the euphoria.

When you fought with no rules and no holding back, nothing mattered. You weren’t the beloved athlete that has a bright future ahead of her as an heir of the L/N family. You were just Y/N, or as the underground calls you, 極真 王女 (Kyokushin Ojo; trans: Ultimate Truth Princess; “Kyokushin” is a type of Karate)

Like a princess, you entered the arena in your sparkling gown and destroyed your opponent in five minutes. It was then and there that you decided, you will no longer fight your father’s opposition to your sports. This will be your life and your death. 

A life with Chishiya, it’ll be a privilege. You like him… and with his and your father’s deal, you’ll be able to live your other life in peace. Fine, you’ll play the part of the pretty spoiled princess. 

Chishiya doesn’t press further but from your lack of luster in your eyes, he understood that something died inside you that day. From then on, you dropped all your sports and didn’t fight your father’s refusal to all the universities that wanted to scout you even if they offered medical studies in exchange for your athletic participation.

If there was one thing you regret, it was you and Chishiya never had your last dance. 

You feel it again. The euphoria running through your veins. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Even if you hear the taps, don’t stop. 

Asaki gasps for air, her face reddening as her wide eyes scream for help. You don’t notice this, darkened eyes not even showing mercy or any emotion. You’ve been completely shut off and in auto pilot as you throw one punch and another.

Why should you? Your father never stopped. 

“N-no!” 

Asaki pushes you off with all her strength, sending off her body. You’re quickly on your feet again, ready to attack as your opponent catches her breath. Asaki sprang of her hands, throwing herself in to a spin that showed off a gymnast’ skill. Like a whirling tornado, she was too fast for you to block or counter-attack. 

She doesn’t kick your head and instead kicks your side. You were thrown across the floor, skiddling and tumbling. A groan escapes your lips at the pain that shot through your ribs, adding to the pain of your thigh.. Yeah, your ribs are definitely cracked. 

“You said you’ll protect me,” Chishiya whispers in a low voice, you were sure only you could hear it. You did say it back there in the furniture shop.

He spins you around, making you face the door. His hands are still on your shoulder when he leans in. 

“Protect me,” he whispers in your ear, sending shivers down your spine. For some reason, it sounded genuine. He wasn’t trying to manipulate you into going. He was motivating you, maybe even pleading. 

I’m sorry, Asaki. 

You sprang to your feet, ignoring the screaming pain of your ribs. You face your opponent once again, the same distance from when you started. But this time, something was different. In your opponent’s hands, was a butterfly knife. 

She was smirking at you like she finally got you. She’s an idiot. 

“Fine,” you huff, giving her an equally sinister grin. “You studied all my moves in high school.” You put yourself in a fighting stance again. “I’ll give it to you. You’re a great fighter. You know all the moves, techniques, and all that shit.” 

“You did all that research about me… yet you didn’t ask why I stopped?” You don’t even glance once at her weapon again. “Pathetic.” 

She lunges with a scream, swinging the knife at you. 

You stepped in, closing the gap between you and Asaki, dodging her weapon and striking her upper and lower arm. As your strike clashes with hers, the force makes her arm holding the weapon go limp. You grab her arm, twisting it until her hand is pointed towards the ceiling. 

With Asaki’s chest unprotected, you pivot and strike her with your elbow and then your foot to her leg. She loses balance and you use this to take the weapon from her hand. 

In a swift motion, you swing the weapon, slashing her across the face. Crimson red drips from her already blooded cheek, adding to the wound on her forehead. She puts a hand to her face, finally executing fright for the first time in the fight.

And then you understand.

The career she wanted instead of the Ivy Award—it was beauty. 

Instead of the Ivy Award, she wanted to be prom queen. Life wasn’t for her but she was thrusted into it too. It was so simple and yet you were blinded by the game to notice. You understood. A slash to the face was hard to cover especially if it scars. You were very careful about your face when you fought in the underground. 

You feel bad but who were you to be a saint? 

You strike a blow to her stomach with your foot, sending her staggering a few steps back. Her focus is still on the wound on her face. She has completely dropped her guard and looked like a simple high school girl who was attacked out of nowhere. 

“You were right,” you say as you throw the knife away. “Taekwondo was my favorite. I still use ITF from time to time.” 

She was not even guarded yet you continue. One straight powerful jab to the center of her chest. She accepts the attack but doesn’t fall down, eyes widened and coughing at the force of the attack. 

“The reason why I stopped competing… was because I found something better.”

Asaki backs away, feeling an unexplained fright. She knows something has shifted as you stride towards her with blazing eyes. Even your walk seemed powerful, exerting an aura of strength and power. 

Kyokushin Karate… is the strongest martial art in the world.

Its sole goal is defeating its opponent. Different from Taekwondo at its very core, it’s focused on real fights. There’s no protective gear, just pure hand-to-hand combat. 

Those who practice Kyokushin as a martial art, they’re unfamiliar with attacks aimed at the head. But not you. The only reason attacks aimed at the head are banned in Kyokushin Karate is because…

There were too many casualties. 

You send a straight punch to Asaki’s face, her head receiving the full force impact of your fist. 

You swing your right arm, hitting her across the jaw. Asaki tries to kick your side as a counter attack but you dodge. 

If your right arm’s not enough, use your left.

You swing your left arm this time, hitting her cheek and you actually feel her teeth through your fist. Even as you hit her, Asaki uses her hand to slap you across the cheek. You’re thrown off, so you spin and kicked off your legs.

If your left arm isn't enough, use your legs. 

The heel of your feet strikes the junction of her neck and shoulder, sending her kneeling on the floor with a loud thud. 

You tackle her down like you did before, with your legs on either side of her torso, she could only watch as you repeat your move from before.

And if your legs don’t cut it, use your head. 

You smash your head with hers with a loud thud and she goes into shock, eyes wide open as she could no longer move. Her body stills underneath you as she stares up at nothingness. 

The spirit of Kyokushin Karate… is a person’s strong will that is never broken.

2 MINUTES LEFT

“That’s…” Her eyes remained unmoving. “Karate.”

Tired, you stand up as she still lays still on the ground, broken bones and wounded face. 

“You’ve done well,” you mumble but you’re sure she can hear. You wipe the blood on her face but it does nothing but spread it. You see her face clearly even with the blood. She was pretty with an innocent face now that she’s put down her guard and hatred.  “You can rest now, beautiful.” 

And finally, the tears spill out of her eyes and she cries. She cries and cries until they turn into sobs. She cried like the kid that she is, hungry for love—hungry for someone to listen to her. It was all too familiar. You know the feeling all too well. 

Walking away from her cries, you pick up the plastic piece of crown. It was silver and had pink stones all around it. 

Limping to the stage, you make your way to the prop throne. You sit down on it and groan at the feeling of resting your beat up body.

1 MINUTE

You place the crown on your head and place your bloodied fists on either sides of the arm rests. The cuff on your wrists flash with a sound and a green light.

+ 50 votes

It was followed by a ding and the girl’s automated voice.

CONGRATULATIONS

GAME CLEAR

And then you see it, the laser coming down from the sky and onto Asaki’s skull. 

Stepping out of the gym, you find the other players waiting for you silently. They seemed to be looking up at something so you follow their gaze. 

There was a camera. All that happened back there, they saw it.

You stood there in silence, waiting for something to happen next. Their gaze falls on you with your burnt knuckles and the plastic crown on your head. These people, they looked at you with fright in their eyes. It was a familiar look—the audience’s disbelief when you don’t hold yourself back. 

“Great job,” Heiya was the first one to approach you with a smirk, putting a hand on your shoulder. It was her and Chishiya who didn’t look scared of you.

You smile, giving her a nod. 

Just like that, the other players began giving you their thanks. Out of nine people, six of you survived. They all thanked you, the girl in the headband even hugging you. 

All six of you walk out of the game, looking up as the Queen of Clubs’ blimp self-destructs with explosion. Beside you, Chishiya is also looking up, smirking. He was properly beautiful. 

Arisu asked you what made you like this man so much and you told him it was because Chishiya grounds you. You never really knew how to explain it until now. 

When you were fighting in the underground, it was brutal. It was your way of feeling pain–to feel alive. If you didn’t have Chishiya in your life, you would’ve stayed in the underground forever. But Shuntaro, he gives you a reason to come back to your life. 

So you can annoy him. 

You were back in the apartment with Chishiya after you searched for some medical supplies for your injury. As always, he was silent. 

“You can shower if you want,” Chishiya breaks the silence, pulling you off your thoughts while you sat on the couch. You nod and leave him alone in the living room. 

After you shower, you wore a plain white shirt  and some lounge shorts you found in one of the drawers. When you step out of the room, Chishiya still wore the clothes he had outside but he stood over portable stove, stirring what smelled to be like instant noodles. 

He sees you and carries the pot over to the table. The table is already set. 

You never thought you’d see the day, Domestic Chishiya. A malewife. You place a hand over your mouth, preventing the smile on your face from forming. Instead, your face contorts into a funny face, earning a glare from Chishiya. 

“Are you just going to stand there or eat?” He deadpans. 

You bite your lips, shutting yourself up and made your way to the table. “Thank you for the food,” you said, sincerely. He scoffs, sitting across from you.

The two of you ate quietly, you slurp the ramen noodles like its your last meal. It wouldn’t be so bad. Instant Ramen by Chishiya. You giggle in your head, a smile spreading on your face. 

When you finish your food, you opted to wash the dishes while Chishiya showers. Looking around, the apartment, you found something really cool—a record player. You inspect it and it looks like it’s the kind that doesn’t need electricity. Your heart swells with excitement, searching for vinyls around the place. You found a box inside the room filled with it and you clap to yourself happily.

“No way,” you react when you turn a knob and found it actually works. 

“What’s that?” Chishiya walks in the living room, his jacket long abandoned and wearing a shirt and lounge shorts. Did he match what you were wearing? 

“It’s the only thing he has,” he defends himself even when you haven’t said anything.

You pause, thinking if you should say anything but you ignore it, remembering your brilliant discovery. “Look! It’s a record player!” 

He sighs. “You’ll only attract others with the sound.” 

Your face fell. “Then I’ll beat them up.” You ignore his protests, going over to him and grabbing his hand to pull him over to the record player. He follows you limply, bored and annoyed as always. 

You’re not very familiar with the vinyls so you just grab one with a familiar name, Nat King Cole. You placed it on the record player, figuring out how it plays. It began playing but it was too fast. You look up at Chishiya with wide eyes, wondering what you did wrong. He sighs, reaching over to some tiny lever on the turntable and pushing it to number 33. 

“It’s the wrong speed,” he tells you.

The song began playing at a normal speed and you grin widely. 

It was a slow love song and an idea pops into your mind. 

“You know, something popped into my mind back there,” you face your friend, placing a hand on his shoulder. He stills but doesn’t remove your hand. 

When I fall in love, it will be forever Or I’ll never fall in love

“We never got to finish our last dance back in high school,” you say with a smirk. “And you promised.” 

Surprisingly, Chishiya doesn’t argue. So, you place your other hand around his neck, connecting it with your other hand. You pull him closer, his face inches away from yours. From here, you can see his face clearly. His eyelashes that flutter as he blinks, the creases of his forehead when he scrunches his brows slightly, his lips that were ever so slightly parted. He stays quiet, eyes on your face as if memorizing it like what you were doing to his. 

You brought down your hands to place his on your waist and again, he surprisingly doesn’t remove them. You place your hands back to where they belong, pulling him in again. You started to sway with the music, willing Chishiya to do the same. 

“I’m sorry.” The words come out of his mouth like air. If you weren’t close enough, you wouldn’t have heard it. Heat rushes to your face as your eyes widen. Did you really just hear Chishiya apologize to you?

Your shock melts into a tightlipped smile. “You’re just going to have to make it up to me by loving me forever.” It was a reference to the song that was playing. 

He scoffs at your cheesy words. “Don’t be ridiculous.” 

Love. It’s a privilege. You know that you two aren’t children made by love. It’s the reason why you two find it so hard to believe that love exists. Chishiya no doubt finds it harder to believe. He doesn’t understand the sentiment–the romance. 

“Fine. Tell me,” he mumbled. You stare back at him, unsure of what he means. His eyes were steady, focused on you and begging in his own way. It takes years of experience to notice the subtle changes of emotion his face makes and your heart swells at the slight tremble of his lips. “Tell me what to do instead.” 

Your brows slightly furrow, cheeks reddening and eyes glossy. When he’s not showcasing his intelligence and mischief, Chishiya is a man of few words. As your eyes are locked on each other, you bare yourself open into nothingness. Nothing mattered, not the games, not even the meaning of life. It was neither warm nor cold. Looking into Chishiya’s eyes was like looking into a mirror you cannot escape and yet you’d like to drown in them. 

“Worship me,” you proposed in a commanding manner, finding confidence in yourself and what you feel for him.

“Worship?” he asks with a confused and amused tone in his voice. 

“Love is overrated. Worship me instead.” 

And he smirks, pulling your waist closer. His lips touch yours and your world exploded. There weren’t fireworks, no sparks… it’s just felt like summer day. A bright sky, lighting up the road as the breeze hits your skin. His hand is heavy on your waist, your body fully aware of all of him. Your mouth melted into his, everything else is forgotten. The tip of your tongue brushes his and he parts his lips, welcoming you in. You cling unto him, longing more of him. 

And the moment I can feel that You feel that way too Is when I fall in love with you

© wolfvmin. please do not copy, translate, claim any of my works. my works are cross-posted only in ao3 under the name vantantae. thank you.

#chishiya x reader #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya shuntarou #chishiya imagine #chishiya fluff #chishiya angst #chishiya x you #chishiya fanfic #chishiya smut #nijiro murakami

[indifferent-depravity]

Pussyfooting

Minors DNI 18+

CW: age gap

A/N: don't forget requests for everything are open so if you'd like to see anything from me feel free to drop it in my ask box :)

buy me a coffee!

help me escape abuse

my Etsy shop

~~~

With Gemma out looking after a sick Abel, you graciously take over all her shifts, not even giving her a chance to object. The office at the club's garage was an easy gig, half of it was just waiting for customers and organizing paperwork, giving you little to do for most of your shift. But you can’t complain as your eyes wander back to the window into the garage where Chibs is working on a car.

Your eyes trail over his body, thighs pressing together at the sight of his bare arms straining as he works. Your eyes lock when he looks up, a smirk growing on his face as you duck your head down, a deep blush crawling across your cheeks. You quickly mess with the paperwork in front of you as the door opens, trying to look busy to hide your embarrassment.

A hand covers the page and your breath hitches, eyes slowly moving up the arm to find Chibs in front of you. Your mouth goes dry at the playful smirk on his face and you swallow, feigning nonchalance as you speak, “Chibs! Did-did you need something?” You ask, nervously tapping your nails on the desk.

Chibs leans closer until you can smell the cigarette smoke lingering, “Was jus’ wondering what you were thinkin’ when you were staring at me just then.”

You laugh nervously, pushing the chair away from the desk and him. You move to stand in front of the filing cabinet, blindly shuffling through its contents. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, I-I wasn’t staring!” Your voice sounds shrill and you squeeze your eyes shut, grimacing inwardly.

“No? Didn’t realize you kids changed the definition of staring.” Chibs murmurs and you can hear him move behind you, swallowing hard as his hands settle on your hips. He spins you around, hovering his lips over yours, “No need to be embarrassed, sweetheart, I never said I didn’t like the attention.”

He leans in and you tilt your chin up with a shaky sigh to meet him, letting your eyes fall shut. Your lips barely brush against each other when someone yells for him in the garage. Chibs curses under his breath, pressing his forehead against yours for a moment and then he’s gone with a gentle squeeze to your hips.

You groan and drop your head against the cabinet, shifting uncomfortably as wetness causes your panties to cling to your cunt. You clear your throat and sit at the desk when you catch Chibs watching you, your face burning as he winks at you.

~~~

You weave through the crowd gathered in the clubhouse, letting out a grateful sigh as you push your way out into the cool night air. You lean your back against the wall and light up a cigarette with a satisfied hum, taking a slow drag.

“Fancy seeing you here.”

You choke on the smoke, quickly tipping your head up to exhale. You eye Chibs as he mirrors your position and gestures silently toward your cigarette. You hold it out, breath catching in your throat as he leans forward, eyes holding yours as he takes a drag, his lips just barely brushing your fingers. He gives you a smile as he exhales and you smile back, shakily bringing the cigarette up to your lips to delay responding. Unbeknownst to you, his eyes slide down to your mouth as you wrap your lips around the cigarette, tongue poking out to wet his lips.

“Shouldn’t you be knee-deep in croweaters vying for your attention by now?” You ask in a light tone and look at the dark garage in front of you, passing the cigarette to him without looking.

He snorts and takes a drag, watching the smoke curl in the air. “Some of us know when it’s time to stop fucking everything with two legs and a pair of tits.”

You roll your eyes, turning to give him an amused look when you see him already watching you.

“When they know they found their old lady.”

You stammer and turn back, heat crawling up your neck at the implication. “Y-Yeah I guess they do.” You take the cigarette and finish it off, dropping it onto the concrete and crushing it beneath the toe of your boot. You stand there for a while, a deafening silence growing between the two of you.

“Sweetheart.” At the pet name, you look over at him, heart skipping a beat at the heat in his gaze. Chibs cups your cheek, pressing you against the wall, “I’ve been meaning to ask-”

“Chibs! Aw, man, Clay’s been looking for you! He wants you in the chapel.”

Chibs growls, shooting the prospect a dirty glare, “Get the fuck out of here before I shove my foot up your ass, prospect!” The prospect puts his hands up in surrender, nearly tripping over himself in his haste to go back into the clubhouse.

You giggle, biting your lip in a poor attempt to stifle the noise. Chibs raises an eyebrow, giving you an amused look which causes another giggle to fall from your lips. You stretch onto your toes and press a kiss to his cheek, “Don’t want to keep your president waiting.” Your eyes linger on his for a moment before you slip away, smiling inwardly as you catch him pressing his forehead against the wall with a groan as you rejoin the party inside.

~~~

“I don’t know what to tell you, baby. If you had brought her in a couple of weeks ago like I told you, it would’ve been an easier fix.” Gemma gives you an apologetic look as if that makes the knowledge you’ll be out of a car for the rest of the week any easier.

You run your fingers through your hair with a sigh, “I know, Gem, thanks for trying.”

You turn to your car in the garage, trying to figure out how you’ll survive without your car when your eyes wander to Chibs, the sleeves of his coveralls tied around his waist, exposing his arms. Gemma sidles up next to you with a smirk, “You know, it’s a lot easier to just fuck the man instead of pussyfooting around.”

Your face heats up at her teasing words and you splutter, quickly diverting your eyes to the floor, “I-I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

She scoffs, “Mhm, sure, sweetheart. Everyone knows you and Chibs have a thing for each other and you’re just too chicken-shit to say something.” She looks you over for a moment before sticking her head into the garage, not giving you a chance to protest as she yells his name over the din of people working, waving him over as he turns around. Gemma nods her head towards you, “They need a ride home, do you mind taking ‘em? I would but I’m going to be here late doing paperwork.”

Your head jolts up and you glare at her, mouthing at her to knock it off. Chibs nods, “S’long as they’re okay riding a motorcycle, I don’t mind.”

Your heart skips a beat at the thought of riding behind him on his motorcycle and you shake your head, giving him an apologetic look, “You don’t need to do that, I-I can just walk home.”

“It’s no trouble, what kinda man would I be letting you walk that far?” The look on his face tells you that no arguing would get you out of it and you give him a small smile. “We can go whenever you’re ready.” He says and walks in the direction of his motorcycle, wiping the motor oil off his hands with a grease-stained rag.

Gemma narrows her eyes at you as she hands you your things, pushing you out of the office with a quick kiss on your cheek. You mumble curses at her under your breath as you walk toward him. You stop short, your words dying in your throat at the sight of him on his bike, sending a silent prayer to whoever is listening that you could keep it together long enough to get home.

He smiles when you reach him, holding out his hand to help you onto the bike. Your heart races as you take it, using it to steady yourself as you swing your leg over the bike. He looks back at you with a grin, guiding your arms around his waist, “Hold on tight, sweetheart.” You give him a nod, tightening your arms around him as he starts the bike. A grin forms on your face as he speeds off, closing your eyes as you enjoy the wind whipping through your hair.

You’re almost sad as he slows to a stop in front of your home, your heart still racing from the ride as you loosen your grip on his waist. You climb off the bike, suddenly feeling cold as you shift your feet nervously. Leaning down, you quickly kiss his cheek before stuttering out, “I- uh I wa- th-thanks for the ride, I’ll see you at work.” You close your eyes with a slight grimace, turning on your heel to escape before you make things worse for yourself.

“Sweetheart.”

You flinch when his hand catches your wrist, heart stuttering in your chest as you hear him get off the bike. You’re about to give an excuse to leave when he tugs on your wrist, making you stumble into his chest. You let out a shaky breath, your eyes slowly sliding up his chest to find him watching you, his face unreadable. “Chibs?”

Chibs cups your cheeks, his lips hovering over yours as he murmurs, “Call me Filip.” He kisses you passionately, stealing your breath away. It takes you a minute to respond, curling your fingers around his wrists as you stretch onto your toes to kiss back. He lingers close to you when he finally breaks the kiss, pressing his forehead against yours with a sigh, “Baby, I- tell me you want this too, I need you to want this.”

You nod against him, closing your eyes as you whisper, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this. Come inside?” You grin when he agrees and gently tangle your fingers in his, a buzzing excitement replacing your anxiety as you tug him to your front door.

Chibs wraps his arms around your waist when you drop his hand in favor of opening the door. He lightly kisses your neck and your keys nearly slip from your hand as you try to find the right key. He nips at your skin, drawing a soft whine from your throat, “Ch- F-Filip you need to stop distracting me.”

He hums, tugging you back against him, pressing the hard ridge of his cock against your ass, “Say my name again, sweetheart.” You moan and try to blindly get your key in the door, knees growing weak as he ruts against you. You finally get the door open and he urges you inside, pressing you against the door the minute it shuts. “C’mon baby, say it again.”

His hands roam over your body, sneaking underneath your pants to palm your ass. You gasp, arching into him, “Fuck, Filip.” You pull him down into a searing kiss and roughly push his cut off his shoulders, tugging at the bottom of his shirt, “Take your clothes off, now.”

“Bossy today, aren’t ya?” Chibs chuckles and pulls his shirt off, throwing it to the side before tugging your shirt over your head.

You give him a devilish grin and flip your bodies around to press him against the door as you dip your hand into his coveralls, fingers brushing the heated skin of his cock, “You can take your time next time, need you to fuck me right now.” He groans, thumping his head back against the door as you slide your hand over his length. You attack his skin, nipping and sucking marks over his neck and collarbones.

“Fuck- sweetheart it’ll be a bit difficult to do that if you keep touching me like this.” You hum, still moving your hand over his shaft, grinning against his skin as he bucks into your touch. Chibs grabs your arm, swallowing a moan as he forces you to stop. You press a kiss to the underside of his jaw, giving his cock a final squeeze before pulling away.

“Come and get me then,” You say with a smirk, making a show of peeling off the rest of your clothes as you make your way to your bedroom. Your cunt throbs as you hear his boots hit the floor with a heavy thud and you hook your thumbs into the waistband of your panties, slowly teasing them down your thighs. You giggle as Chibs wraps his arms around you, hand sliding between your thighs with a groan.

“God, you’re so fucking wet f’me, aren’t you?” You whine as his fingers find your clit, digging your nails into his arm, “Been thinking about this pretty pussy wrapped around my cock for weeks now.”

You tip your head back against his shoulder with a sigh as he sinks his fingers into your cunt, “Maybe-maybe you should stop lollygagging and fuck me then,” You say with a quiet moan, your knees weakening from his touch.

Chibs growls and pulls his fingers out of you with a light smack to your ass, spinning you around to face him, “You’re going to get in trouble if you keep mouthing off to me, sweetheart,” He grips your thighs, hoisting you into his arms as he moves to sit on the bed. Your breath hitches as his cock slides against your cunt and he grins, delivering another smack to your ass that has you clenching your thighs around his hips.

You let out a breathless laugh, reaching between you to press the head of his cock against your entrance, “Yeah? What are you gonna do about it?” Before he could answer you sink down on his cock, a whimper bubbling out of you as you stretch around his length. He swears, digging his fingers into the flesh of your ass as he bottoms out inside you.

You shiver as Chibs drags your hips against his, working you over his cock, “Oh, I think you’ll find out, sweetheart.” He growls, surging forward to capture your lips in a deep kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth as you moan into the kiss. You wrap your arms around his neck and lift your hips, the drag of his cock inside you making your toes curl.

He presses his thumb against your clit and you break the kiss with a gasp, throwing your head back as you shudder against him. “Fuck- ‘m so close, Filip,” You whimper, another shudder running through you as his cock presses against a spot deep inside you, “I want you to cum with me please, I need- I need to feel you.”

Chibs groans, pressing his forehead against yours as your bodies mold together. “It’s alright, sweetheart, let go. Cum for me, cum on my cock.” He coaxes you over the edge, rubbing circles over your clit as you let out a broken cry, clenching tightly around him as you reach your climax. He follows you quickly, letting out a quiet moan as he fills you with his seed.

~~~

You poke your head into the garage, “Filip! What’s the status on the gold century? The customer wants an update.” He shouts a reply and you shoot him a smile, turning pink when he returns it with a wink.

“When did you become Filip?”

You can hear their jeers at his reply even through the door and you groan, grimacing when you turn around and see Gemma looking at you with a smug smirk. You glare at her, “Don’t even start.”

“So… he a good lay?”

#filip chibs telford #filip telford #chibs telford #chibs telford x reader #filip telford x reader #sons of anarchy #soa #chibs soa #chibs telford smut #chibs smut #writing #smut

[notti-stellate]

Good Morning

JJ Maybank x fem!reader

Summary: A somewhat perfect morning with JJ.

Word count: 0.6k

Proofread: Kinda

Warnings: Smoke, mention of drinking, PDA, major fluff

You sighed softly as you woke up, feeling an odd weight in your chest. Looking down you saw your boyfriend’s fluffy blonde hair as he laid sprawled over you. He reminded you of a blanket, the thought making you laugh quietly. Feeling your chest move, JJ slowly opened one eye, tightening his arms around your torso.

“Morning princess,” he mumbled, a small smile adorning his lips.

“Hi J” you whispered, running your fingers along his bare back, scratching softly. His hum of appreciation made you wish you could stay in this moment forever, frozen in time with the person you love most.

JJ’s phone ringing broke you out of your thoughts. He sighed, sliding his finger over the screen and placing the phone on his ear.

“What?” He grumbled to who you assumed was Pope or Mr.Heyward asking where he was. Realizing your moment was over, you slid out of his arms, much to his dismay. Throwing on JJ’s old shirt you walked out of your room, heading towards the kitchen. You could hear JJ sigh and follow you out of your room, padding down the hallway.

After JJ hung up, he came over to where you were standing, wrapping his arms around your hips and burying his face in the crook of your neck. 

“What time do you need to go in?” You asked, pouring waffle mix into the iron.

“An hour ago,” JJ chuckled, swaying softly in place. You just shook your head laughing, that boy was alway late. 

Turning around in his arms, you pressed your lips together softly, only pulling away when you heard the waffle iron beep. Spinning you to face him again, JJ kissed you with much more passion than before, your lips moving in sync as though they were puzzle pieces, meant to fit together. You were so deeply focused on him that you didn’t hear the waffles beep.

Smelling smoke you pulled away, your eyes widening when you realized what had happened. You flung around, grabbing the burnt waffle and tossing it out the front door. JJ loved the fact that you could get so lost in each other, even if it didn’t always have the best outcome. Laughing, you turned back to face him, seeing him laughing as well.

Placing the finished pancakes on two plates, one for you and the other for JJ, you set them on the table. Turning around when you heard a beer can opening, you shook your head at him nodding your head towards the full coffee pot and sitting down.

“Mr.Heyward’s gonna freak if he finds out you were drinking before work.” You muttered, taking a sip of coffee. Sitting across from you, JJ smiled taking a bite of his breakfast. These mornings were your favorite parts of the day, having a little bit of peace before you both had to leave for work or school. To be completely honest, you were still in disbelief at times that JJ was actually yours, not just some small crush you had like before. No matter how long you were together you were still convinced that one day you would wake up and all of your perfect days with JJ would be a distant fantasy. Not that he would ever admit it but he had the same thoughts.

After breakfast you smiled as JJ kissed you goodbye muttering a soft “I love you” before walking out the door. Even though you had just seen him you were already missing the warm feeling of his arms around you, it was obvious you were, without a doubt, completely infatuated with the young Maybank

#jj maybank x fem!reader #jj x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank