#Sharpe and Walker 2

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

Ashes Never Lie by Lee Goldberg

Sharpe & Walker #2

Fires, fraud, and the FBI cause issues for Sharpe and Walker as they  work on cases that see their team working with the Eve and Duncan of the Eve Ronin series ~ Enjoyed this one!

What I liked:

* The setting that took me back to places I remember from the first two decades of my life in Southern California

* The intersection of the two Goldberg series and catching up with the main characters of both

* The way Walker and Eve worked together with their senior partners to solve more than one murder and arson case

* Learning more about fires, how fires are started, how arson investigators do their jobs, and what motivates a few types of criminal behavior

* The dynamics between the characters – the respect they have for one another, their communication, and their jokes

* That the married main characters are well grounded and love their spouses

* That the story made me think, I cared about the outcome, and was invested in the story

* The plot, pacing, setting, and writing

* That I smiled from time to time

* The police procedural aspects of the story

* That the bad guys were revealed and dealt with by the end of the book

* Knowing that there will be more books in the series to look forward to

What I didn’t like: * Who and what I was meant not to like

* Thinking about how different some people’s minds be to do the things that some of the characters in this book thought were okay to do

Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more by this author/in this series? Yes

Thank you to NetGalley and Thomas & Mercer for the ARC – This is my honest review.

4-5 Stars

BLURB

The secrets hidden in smoldering ashes hold the fate of a city in an explosive thriller by #1 New York Times bestselling author Lee Goldberg. Vacant homes in a new housing development are erupting into flames in broad daylight with no apparent cause. It’s a perplexing mystery for dogged arson investigator Walter Sharpe and his restless new partner, Andrew Walker, an ex–US marshal who craves action. But as they puzzle over the blazes, another home miles away burns to the ground, leaving a man’s corpse in the ashes and homicide detectives Eve Ronin and Duncan Pavone demanding answers. The burn patterns and charred body tell Sharpe a bizarre story that only creates more questions for Eve. So the four detectives team up to find the answers. Their investigation into the two unrelated cases leads to one shocking discovery after another. Now they must gamble their lives to unmask a brilliant arsonist, crack open a massive swindle, track down a desperate fugitive with a terrifying secret, and race against time to save thousands of people from an agonizing death.

[aquaticmercy]

Hypothetically (version 1)

Summary : The Thunderbolts* crew gossip about Bucky's love life.

Pairing : Thunderbolts!Bucky Barnes x superhero!reader (she/her) 

Warnings/tags : References to violence and sex

Word count : 1.8k

Note : Reader is a superhero, and part of my version of the Midnight Suns in the MCU, including Moon Knight, Elsa Bloodstone, Jack Russell, and Man Thing. Taskmaster and Sentry isn't in this because I have no clue how they'll play into the canon so I've stuck with characters I think fit to the story. I’ve written two versions of the same story a Thunderbolts/Bucky POV and a Midnight Suns/Reader POV. Enjoy!

You are reading the Thunderbolts/Bucky POV Read the Midnight Suns/Reader POV here (version 2)

In the dimly lit briefing room of the former Avengers tower, a group of former assassins and rogue super soldiers sat around a rectangular steel table that glowed dully under the fluorescent lights overhead. Bucky was leading today’s mission briefing, a subtle tension settling over the team as they discussed the latest intelligence reports and mission parameters.

Yelena, Alexei, John, and Ava—were in various states of attentiveness, occasionally trading jabs and snarky comments. Yelena was throwing paper planes at John, Alexei was munching through a carrot he had smuggled in, and Ava was staring blankly at the ceiling, tapping an irregular rhythm on the table.

“Alright,” Bucky said, clicking through the projection on the screen with his  intensity. “Our target is believed to be hiding out in the warehouses on the east side. No civilian interference expected, please. I’m talking to you, Alexei.”

The Red Guardian leaned back in his chair, a smirk touching his rugged face as he crossed his arms. “No audience?” His thick Russian accent carried disappoint, “what’s the point?”

Bucky gave him a sharp look, one that meant he didn’t have the patience for bullshit today. “The point,” he replied dryly, “is in getting the job done right. No loud distractions, no fireworks. Got it?”

Alexei sighed dramatically, but he didn’t argue further. Yelena snickered from her seat next to him, shooting him a look as if to say, don’t push it.

It was then that Bucky’s phone lit up on the table in front of him. He barely registered the vibration at first—until he caught a glimpse of the screen.

Your name flashed on the screen.

Instantly, he reached to flip the phone over, but he was too late. The team’s collective attention was already on the screen, their eyes widening with recognition and a chorus of surprised gasps escaping.

Of course they knew you— they all did. Not personally of course. But you were a legend, in the same way that Bucky was.

“Oooh?” Alexei’s eyebrows rose as he looked up, “You know her personally? I’ve only seen her on TV. Very feisty lady, I think.”

“Big fan,” Ava chimed in, her usually serious face betraying a slight grin. “She’s a total badass. Heard she led a raid last week. Didn’t know you had her on speed dial, Barnes.”

Bucky cleared his throat, forcing himself to maintain his usual composed demeanour. “Stay here, don’t touch the files.” He gave them all a stern glare before excusing himself, taking the call outside the room.

As soon as the door clicked shut behind him, his teammates exchanged glances—and the speculation began.

Yelena, leaning forward with a glimmer of mischief in her eye, shrugged casually. “You know, I heard they’re dating.”

She had heard it from Kate Bishop who heard it from Clint Barton who may have heard it from Sam Wilson— which would have been a reliable source if not for everyone in between.

John Walker snorted. “No way,” he said, crossing his arms with an incredulous smirk. “From what I hear she’s too… I dunno, too stubborn. Violent. They both are. They’d probably clash. I bet they can barely stand to be in the same room without breaking into a fight.”

Alexei raised a hand in protest. “What’s wrong with clashing heads in relationship? Makes relationship stronger!” He laughed, his deep voice echoing through the room. “My parents fight every day. Happiest couple ever!” He wore his family complications like a badge of honour, which somehow made it worse. 

“Sure,” Yelena made a face, scrunching her nose. 

Ava leaned back, thoughtful. “I think they’d look good together,” she said, tilting her head. “But I’d hate to see them in a domestic argument. I imagine it’d get… destructive. Like crater-in-the-kitchen destructive.”

John’s lips quirked into a smirk. “They’d probably level an entire building over something dumb, like whose turn it is to load the dishwasher,” he added. John and his wife fight, of course, but she wasn’t super powered, and they didn’t have decades of contract kills and assassination between them— unlike you and Bucky.

“Or laundry!” Yelena laughed, her eyes lighting up. “Can you imagine? ‘No, it’s your turn,’” she mimicked Bucky in an exaggerated deep voice. “Then Boom! Neighborhood gone.” Yelena snapped her fingers.

The room erupted in laughter.

Yelena’s chuckle shifted into a sly grin. “The sex is probably… good, right? All the aggression? All that pent-up tension? I bet it has to go somewhere. Maybe they’re just friends with benefits.”

“Oh, no. No, no, no,” Alexei held up his hand, his face scrunched in horror. “I cannot think about Bucky like that. Bad enough he walked in on my bare ass when I was changing yesterday.”

“Gross,” Yelena cringed, shoving her adoptive father shoulder. 

“I still think they’re dating.” Ava smirked, shaking her head. “He wouldn't have taken the call in the middle of briefing if they weren’t.”

“Please,” John rolled his eyes. “They’re probably just sharing intel. Swapping notes about target zones or something. No way it’s anything mushy or sweet. I cannot imagine either of them saying I love you.”

Yelena gagged jokingly.

While the team continued their speculative debate, Bucky stood outside the room.

He pressed his phone to his ear and felt his face soften instantly at the sound of your voice.

“Hey, my love,” you greeted, a trace of tension in your tone. “Is this a bad time?”

“For you doll? Never,” he murmured, his voice dropping to a low rumble that only you seemed to bring out in him. “What’s going on?”

You sighed, sounding weary, and he could practically see you rubbing your temples.

“Elsa- fucking- Bloodstone.” you said flatly. “She keeps ignoring the damn plan and doing things her own way. She’s driving me up the wall. Seriously, it’s like every mission is a free-for-all.”

“I can imagine,” Bucky chuckled softly, twirling the hem of his shirt. “Alexei is the same way. Only does what he thinks is right. It’s like herding cats.”

“Can’t imagine he’s that bad,” You laughed, and oh boy did he miss that sweet sound. “You wanna trade? I’ll give you Ted in exchange for Alexei for a week. Ted keeps distorting my comms every time we’re on a mission—dude's like a walking jamming signal.”

A smirk crept onto Bucky’s face. “Deal—if I can swap Yelena for Jack Russell. I hear he's sensible, or at least doesn’t have a habit of blowing things up on instinct.”

“Oh, no,” you chuckled, firmly. “He’s off limits. He’s like my second-in-command. You can take Moon Knight if you want though. Deal with Jake Lockley showing up unannounced, if you’re up for it. Brings Khonsu into everything. Imagine arguing with a literal moon god while trying to stop a giant swamp monster from being captured… again.”

“Pass,” Bucky groaned, chuckling as he shook his head, thinking of all the things you’ve told him about the Egyptian god’s avatar. “Ava would not get along with Jake or Steven very well. Though Marc—he’d probably handle her alright.”

Bucky found himself melting into the sound of your laughter, the way you teasingly poked fun at each other’s ragtag teams— just a bunch of misfits who happened to be in the right place at the right time. 

His eyes softened, a faint smile tugging at his lips as he leaned against the wall, completely wrapped up in the thought of you. 

“Maybe one day,” you mused, “we’ll get them all in the same room. See if they tear each other apart.”

Bucky huffed a laugh. “That’d be a nightmare.”

You corrected, “an interesting nightmare.”

For a moment, the burden of your job faded, leaving only the warmth of each other’s voices and the quiet longing that had lingered ever since you started this… relationship.

It felt weird to say, coming from two people with checkered pasts. That you now have something precious, something so priceless in each other.

Bucky shifted, his hand clenching into a fist. He wished you were there right now instead of halfway across the town. Oh what he would give to hold you, to feel your soft kiss on his lips and your hands in his hair.

“So,” you said, a hint of playfulness in your voice. “Would you like to go to dinner tonight? I’m tired of takeout.”

A fond smile curved his lips as he replied, “Anything you want, sweetheart. As long as it’s with you.” His voice grew soft, almost shy. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “It’s hard being apart.”

In the background, Bucky heard a familiar growl—the unmistakable grumble of the Man-Thing.

You sighed. “What did I tell you about eavesdropping on private phone calls, Ted?”

Bucky chuckled, low and warm. “Good luck with that, doll.”

He could practically hear you rolling your eyes.

“Take care of yourself, okay?” He said, “I love you. More than you know.”

“I love you too, darling.”

He ended the call with a wistful smile, pocketing his phone before heading back inside.

When he reentered the room, he found the team still engrossed in a heated debate.

“What did I miss?” he asked dryly.

“Oh, nothing,” Yelena replied innocently, before nudging Ava, who couldn’t hide her smirk. “We were just talking about you and the… scary lady calling you.”

Alexei raised an eyebrow. “So, how long have you and her been doing… mission reports?” His tone was suggestive, expecting Bucky to give a direct answer.

Bucky raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion. “Not sure what you’re getting at, Shostakov.”

“He’s not denying it,” Ava pointed out. “Hypothetically, of course—“

“Of course,” Yelena nodded.

“—You two would make a great couple,” Ava pointed out. “Like… two cold, calculated soldiers who can take down anything.”

“You two would be sitting on a table in a nice restaurant, exchanging nods while writing up a mission postmortem,” John speculated, “hypothetically.”

“So what pet names do you use for each other?” Yelena leaned forward with curiosity. “Hypothetically.”

Before Bucky could answer, Alexei made a sour face. "No, can’t see it,” he argued. “Bucky is too grumpy. He does not call her Baby. Or sweetie.” He shuddered. “Hypothetically.”

Bucky just rolled his eyes, putting on his best annoyed expression. “You all done with the gossip?”

“Aw, don’t get all defensive, old man,” Yelena crossed her arms, smirking. “We’re just saying, if you were dating someone like that… you should tell us because we’d love to meet her. Maybe she can help out one of these days. You know, before Walker decides to cause another international incident.”

“Hey!” He exclaimed.

Bucky just grunted in response, biting back the curve of his lips.

He’d couldn’t believe no one would even guess the truth—that behind closed doors, the two of you were anything but the cold, stoic warriors they imagined.

Only you got to see that side of him. Only you got to see the gentle warmth in the quiet moments, dancing and laughing with him in your shared apartment that no one else knew of.

“Let’s focus,” Bucky muttered, heading back to the front of the table and flipping open a couple files. He hid his smile as best as he could, secretly pleased that everyone had it so wrong.

-end.

[dcxdpdabbles]

Freelance Inventor Part 2

Dedicated to @jimmysorsprinkles Thank you for enjoying my random dabbles. I saw that you wanted more Dads, Danny/Bruce, who are unknowingly co-parenting, so here it is! (set during the first prompt through the years of Danny just being a dad whenever he's home)

"I just don't know what to do," Bruce admits, watching Dick stomp about in tiny angry circles, muttering in his native tongue under his breath. He's been out there for about a half hour, doing laps in the yard. Danny knows he deliberately chose to do so under the window leading to Bruce's office.

The kid definitely wanted his guardian to know he was mad at him .

It was the fact Dick was unconsciously hunching his shoulders, curling his fist, and even raising his knee slightly higher than he needed for his stomps that were a nod to Bruce whenever the man was upset.

It seemed like Dick had picked up habits from Bruce during his short time here. If anything, Danny thought it rather cute if it weren't for the fact Dick was so upset.

"What happened?" He asked, standing beside Bruce, overlooking the pre-teen throwing a fit.

Bruce's frown is sharp and hinted with just the edge of uncertainty that anyone who didn't know him well would have dismissed. "He was being reckless in one of our extreme sports, and when I rightfully scolded him for it, he took it as me not trusting him."

Danny tilts his head, considering. It's been over three years since he became acquainted with the Waynes, and in that time- between his travels, his inventing, and his general desire to learn all he could in any way he could- he noticed that Dick was very quick to anger as a defensive mechanism.

This clashed horribly with Bruce's own mechanism- which was shutting down or at least emotionally wise. While Dick sneered and raged against the world, Bruce tried his best to forget he was human and detached himself from the situation.

Which wouldn't be so bad if it didn't feed into Dick's insecurities or Bruce's anxiety when they both reacted to adverse situations.

He has spoken to Jazz about it, and his sister has given him some advice that has helped him smooth things over with the young boy. Empathizing and paraphrasing the boy's issues was a big step in letting him feel heard and his feelings acknowledged.

For Bruce, he treated him like a ghost who had never seen a human. Plenty of ghosts were never human, were born in the ghost zone, or had been there for so long that they had forgotten what humans were like. Danny took time to explain why someone reacted the way they did- at least, why he thought so- and never made Bruce feel less for needing the help.

It was fun, in a way, to see Bruce's eyes lighten up with understanding and get him to talk about his rooted issues, but having to do so on carefully balanced tones and word choice. Phantom had so much practice de-escalating ghosts that it was a walk in the park with Bruce.

"I'll talk to him," Danny promised, leaning over to rest his hand on Bruce's shoulder and not batting an eye when the taller man landed down to rest his forehead on Danny's shoulder.

Where Bruce couldn't say in words, he yelled in his actions. It reminded him a bit of Wulf.

Bruce took a deep breath before nodding. "Thank you."

Danny hummed, reaching up to pet Bruce's hair like he would soothe Wulf, on days the werewolf would twitch too much at the door slamming, and suddenly his friend was mentally back in Walker's prison. "No problem. But, I will also be speaking to you later, and you are going to listen to Dick's side of the story without interrupting at dinner."

"Yes, Danny"

Alfred threw him an approving smile as he marched outside to meet Dick's rage-filled eyes and nervous hand twitching. He could catch the ending bits of whatever rant the boy was muttering.

"You're right. Bruce is an idiot sometimes." He starts grinning as the boy's eyes narrow further.

"You don't speak Romani."

"I may not understand what you're saying, but trust me, I feel it." Danny chirps, watching Dick's shoulder relax a little. " What did he do this time?"

"You won't even believe it!" Dick snaps, and then he's off, Danny keeping pace with him step by step as the boy works himself into another frenzy.

Later that night, Dick explained that he hated how Bruce made him feel so belittled and unimportant, his voice tight with a itch to fight, and Bruce carefully- with significant prompting from Danny- explained how he didn't mean it that way. He was only worried that he was about to watch Dick die in front of him, and he couldn't live through losing his family again.

Dick looked shocked to be considered family, and Danny swore he helped the boy sneak into Bruce's office, which so happened to have the adoption papers Bruce was hiding. Alfred gave him a large sample of pudding for dessert.

______________________________________________

"Hey, kid," Danny whispered, watching Jason tense up momentarily. It's not overly noticeable, but Danny has grown used to seeing little ghost blobs show emotions by how they twisted and twirled over the years, so he could tell what the slight tightening of the fingers around the book meant.

Anxious.

It would be understandable if Jason had been present for another one of Dick's and Bruce's explosive arguments. He came from a household that had an older male figure beat him whenever Willis got in a mood, so while he knew that Bruce or Dick would never hit him, Jason still tried to make himself scarce.

Jazz was the one to point out Jason's usage of escapism in the form of books to comfort himself, and so Danny took whatever time he could manage to read the same books as Jason while on his travels.

"What?" The boy grunted, voice soft but weary.

Danny sits across from him, making sure to stay in Jason's eyesight at all times. He had realized in only his second visit after meeting Jason that the boy did not like having someone too close in his space.

He grew up on the streets where being weary of older men kept him alive- Danny would never fault him for what he had to do to survive.

Unlike Dick, who was always down to talk about why he was upset if only to rant, Jason preferred to have a distraction. So he offers him a smile that he hopes projects You're safe with me and pulls out a book from his bag.

Jason's eyes light up at the cover. "I had some theories on Mr. Darcy being in love with Mr.Bingley before he met Elizabeth, and Bruce won't agree with me. Help me find citations as proof?"

"It's so obvious that he was, how can the old man not see that!" Jason snorts, tilting his head in a cute habit that he picked up from Dick. He really looks up to his big brother no matter how tense things can get.

Danny is glad he's gotten Dick to explain to Jason that he didn't hate him, but he was going through a lot, and Jason as a street kid, understood on some level.

"The old just hate listening to other people's suggestions even when we're right!." Jason leans over to read the book Danny places between them, considering Jane Austin's work while Danny files away the real reason he's upset with Bruce.

Later, after Jason and he present a bemused Bruce with a report on why Mr.Darcy is bi and had feelings for his best friend before meeting his wife, he tells Bruce to explain why he didn't consider Jason's suggestion in their extreme sport.

Jason goes to bed that night with a better answer than "because I said so," and Danny forces Bruce to go up to his room and re-read Pride and Prejudice to connect with his youngest.

Alfred offers them extra blankets and pillows since the two get so caught up reading to each other that Danny just decides sleeping in Bruce's bed is easier than walking down two wings to the guest rooms.

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

"I'm not going to bed," Tim snapped when Danny knocked on his door. His fingers are flying over the keyboard of his computer, his little face glowing from the computer screen, and Danny is almost reminded of himself whenever he gets caught up in his work.

It may worry Bruce and Alfred, but Danny is a Fenton. He knows what it's like to have his brain run over time and sacrifice sleep or meals to get his ideas into the world.

His mother is the same, his father is the same, his sister is the same, and even Danny's clone is the same. It's fitting that the little boy he caught following Batmam around with a camera is the same since he all but forced Bruce to adopt him.

He hadn't meant to.

He had been testing an air purifier when he returned to Gotham since Bruce and the kids were out of state, and his ghost hearing picked up the sound of a camera click.

Imagine his surprise that when he turned to the roof opposite him, he found the tiny little face of an eleven-year-old staring back, holding a camera, and Batman swinging away in the distance. Danny became attached to Tim that night, even after he chased the boy down to ask if he was safe.

He did not like the implications of his parents always "working" while Tim ran amok in Gotham.

It took almost two weeks of following Tim around Gotham to help him with his photos before the boy allowed him to take him to Wayne Manor. It took three more before Bruce realized that Danny wouldn't allow Tim's parents to win him back, and together, they took the Drakes to court.

Danny has never been more grateful that Bruce was loaded with money and that his inventions gained him contacts in high places that wouldn't mind taking the Drakes down.

Tim was a lot like Bruce- where he shut down- but he needed people to be around him more. Sometimes just sitting in the same room- where Tim could glance up and see him- was enough for the boy to be at ease.

This was great for Bruce, who thought he didn't need to do much to make Tim happy- until Danny reminded him that Tim was a poor boy who was gutted for any form of parental approval.

He had to almost punch Bruce after overhearing him tell Tim he was proud of him, but there was room for improvement. Bruce meant it as helpful, constructive criticism, but Tim- whose parents all but drilled how useless he was- only heard criticism.

Only heard, he was not enough.

So now Tim was going, who knew how many hours without sleep, trying to fix whatever issue he thought he had caused. How a fourteen-year-old could have caused issues at his adoptive dad's multimillion-dollar company was beyond Danny, but it meant a lot to Tim, so he didn't need to understand it.

He just needed to respect it.

"Don't want you to," Danny grunts, throwing himself on Tim's queen-sized bed. "I just wanted to know if I could crash here. Bruce pissed me off."

Tim's fingers pause. "What did he do?"

"He tried to tell me how to handle my inventions' payment. I'm a freelancer! I know how to do that." Danny complains while twisting under the covers. Tim slowly turns around to look at him, but he acts like he doesn't notice. "I know he'll try to talk to me in the guest rooms, but he won't find me here. I just don't want to listen to another "I can do it better" lecture."

After a moment's pause, Tim admits. "He did the same to me and my team."

He means Cassie, Bart, and Conner. The little team of photography buddies Bruce introduced Tim back when they started homeschooling him. Dani suggested pulling Tim out of school is one of the best advice his clone ever gave him.

Tim took the pictures, Cassie and Conner modeled, and Bart made the clothes. Their work was slowly gaining traction online, and Tim seemed to glow whenever the Team was mentioned.

"Course he did." Danny sigh. He leans back into the pillow. "Know why he did it, too. Bruce doesn't want me to be taken advantage of, but it's hard not to hear him think I can't keep up, especially when my family is doing the same thing."

"Yeah," Tim's voice is soft. "It's frustrating that all your hard work is overshadowed or that everything you've done so far doesn't prove that you know you can."

Bingo. Danny discovered Tim's issue; now he just needs to bring it home.

"I know I'm great at what I do. You said so yourself- my past proves I am crazy good at work. I leave other people breathless in awe all the time. I can adapt and overcome so much faster than others. Bruce can see that, but he forgets to praise it." Danny huffs like he's trying not to be forgiving, and it causes a smile to unwillingly appear on Tim's face.

"I'll talk to him tomorrow but today I'm being petty and hiding. Thanks for letting me sleep here"

"You're welcome, Danny." Tim goes back to his typing, but only after a minute or two of Danny asking if he can turn off the light does the boy save his work and shut his computer down.

The room is plunged into darkness but Danny doesn't need the light to see how Tim sinks into his mattress. Tim is smart- crazy smart that every part of him that's Fenton crows with pride- and he can easily see through Danny.

"Thank you Danny" He doesn't say what for but he doesn't need to.

Danny reaches over, grabs the blankets, and makes sure they cover the small shoulder, tucking Tim in properly. "Any time kid"

The next morning, Bruce wakes them up with a powerpoint of all the things he thought were impressive about Tim and his team's last photo session. A powerpoint for Pete's sake.

But it makes Tim smile so much that Danny lets it slide. At least he listened when Danny chewed him out for forgetting to praise Tim.

Alfred offers Danny some of his private tea jars, which according to Dick, means Danny is in for life as Tim, Jason, and Bruce go over the PowerPoint again. Jason has begone to heal for his bitch of a mother's betrayal a few months ago.

Thankfully, Danny was in the area when he called and reminded the lady why she should not mess with Bruce's kids. Dani paying her a visit in her jail cell was just the Fentons' sending their regards.

(His dad gave Dani the ani-creep stick, and his mom hacked the cameras to loop. Jazz just watched hours of her to realize what made the woman scream and cry before sending the clone on her way. It was a good family bonding moment)

No one believed the woman claiming to be haunted that her son was Robin. Honestly, where on earth she got that idea Danny would never know.

His Jason, the sweet school-loving boy who graduated as valedictorian, running around punching criminals? Honestly, what was she going to claim next?

Bruce being Batman?!

Please.

[chochuuya]

soft & random headcanons with tr boys!

characters included: mikey, mitsuya, draken, kazutora, baji, takemichi, chifuyu, smiley, angry, hakkai, inui, kokonoi, rindou, ran, izana, hanma and kakucho.

⤹ mikey would subconsciously tuck your hair behind your ear when it gets out of place, while you were talking. then he'll tilt his head in confusion when you blushed and stumble on your words.

⤹ mitsuya is good with make up. i'm convinced that anyone who is good with arts/crafts are automatically pros in doing make up.

⤹ draken understands personal space, but he would always make sure you're alright by sending texts or food.

⤹ kazutora definitely cried when he heard laufey's song falling behind for the first time. (i did too)

⤹ baji is the type of person that would cover the sharp edge of a table when you crouch down to take something on the floor.

⤹ takemichi would run to a photo booth whenever he sees one, while holding your hand with his smile a mile wide.

⤹ chifuyu is a taekwondo kid and he is good with subway surfers. (i fell even more when he kicked down those tenjiku boys)

⤹ smiley would say "my brother was right about you", whenever you mess up but he won't say what exactly.

⤹ angry is a good cook and smiley would always be the food taster. he also seems like the person to make sure you never eat alone.

⤹ hakkai is a pretty boy so, he would totally have those dyed buzz cut designs and pull off every look. i also think he is a trinket person who collects cute stuff, especially keychains.

⤹ inui would hold your pinky or play with your hand mindlessly while you were talking about your day.

⤹ kokonoi knows a lot about everything and he is creative with the gifts he give you. it's been known that his love language is giving gifts anyway.

⤹ rindou is smart and he would even offer to stay up late to help you with your homework.. not forgetting to nag you a little.

⤹ ran knows how to do pottery and has a famous public spotify playlist. i feel like he would show off his skills on tiktok and would blow up overnight because 1) he is hot and 2) a hot guy doing pottery.

⤹ izana is bold and for some reason, i think he hates slow walkers. he would either nudge someone's shoulder while walking past them or simply sighed in annoyance. or both.

⤹ hanma is a fashion boy and he will change his style a lot. he is also funny without even trying and loves taking ootd pics.

⤹ kakucho is a great listener and he gives the best advice, but won't hesitate to call you out if he thinks you know better. he's a real one.

please do not steal, copy, translate, repost to other sites or claim my writings as your own. plagiarism is real!

i challenged myself to type more 🥸 i hope you like this one~ all notes; reblogs, likes and comments are vv much appreciated! ( 〃▽〃)

[endieinwonderland]

Let The Light In: Part 3

Part 1 Part 2

Words: 4k

Pairing: Paige Bueckers/Media Manager! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Friends to enemies (but the reader doesn’t know why they’re enemies), reader is actually so incredibly in the wrong, mention of an injury, the girls are fighting

It's her—actually her—, standing right in front of you, and for a brief moment you almost wonder if your mind had conjured up a hallucination to retaliate against the sheer force of your yearning. 

You've spent more time than you’ll ever admit imagining this moment, playing it out in various scenarios in your mind, but the reality has a sharpness that no rehearsal could have prepared you for. Her presence is a tangible, overwhelming, a reminder of what you had, of what you had lost.

“Hey, you good?” She repeats, her voice cutting through your racing thoughts, pulling you back down to earth. 

Blinking away the tears that are, embarrassingly, still brimming in your eyes, you take a deep breath before allowing yourself to reply. "Yeah, I'm good," the words feel hollow, a betrayal of the whirlwind of the emotion inside you. 

Paige doesn't respond; instead, she stands in front of you, rocking back and forth on her heels. Her hands nervously fidget as an all too familiar silence envelops the two of you. Wordlessly still, she reaches for the chair in front of you and pulls it out, the both of you wincing at the loud screech it makes as it drags across the wooden floor.

You don’t bother to hide the shock on your face as the blonde sits down across from you, her knees briefly brushing against yours before she swiftly tucks her legs to the side, avoiding your touch.

"You look like you've seen a ghost," her tone unusually light—almost friendly, which would be confusing if you had the ability to take note of it. The only thing you can focus on is the familiar cadence of her voice, bringing back a flood of memories, each one sharp, sweet, and painful.

“I feel like I have.”

____

“I hope we’re still doing this when we’re 80.” You say, grabbing another spoonful of her strawberry ice cream and plopping the pink desert into your bowl of cherry, mixing the two together before putting the spoon back into your mouth, letting out a satisfied hum when you confirm you’ve finally gotten the perfect mix. Paige chooses to ignore how much you’ve taken out of her bowl, knowing that when you get full in a few minutes the remainder of yours will be scraped back into hers. 

“Doing what?” 

"Ice cream Thursdays, dummy," you clarify, abandoning your spoon just in time to catch a melting drop threatening to fall from her chin onto her shirt with the pad of your thumb before pressing the finger against your lips to lick it clean.

She watches you, gaze shifting to the table when your eyes dart up to look at her again. “When we’re 80 you’ll probably be taking pictures of your husband and grandkids playing in your garden or something all cutesy and shit, you won’t be thinking about me.”

You lightly kick her shin under the table, ignoring the confusing pang in your chest when you hear her dismissal, “Oh come on, we’ll still be best friends when we’re 80, if anything I’ll be taking pictures of the grandkids playing basketball and you’ll be trying to keep up with them in your walker.” 

This gets a chuckle out of her, “hopefully by then I’ll know better than to do anything but coach.”

You smile, pushing the now half empty dessert towards her for her to finish before leaning towards her, “okay then, I’ll be taking pictures of the grandkids with coach P.”

She digs into the remainder of your cherry strawberry mixture, bringing the spoon to her mouth before shaking her head and adding another spoonful of strawberry, “fine, but if we’re 80 and you still haven’t figured out how to get the right cherry to strawberry ratio I’m canceling ice cream Thursday’s.” 

____

Her smile fades a bit, replaced by a more cautious expression as she changes the subject, the friendly façade faltering a bit as she speaks. “You know, you’re still sharing your location with me.” 

"What?” 

“I wanted to find you and I realized you still share your location with me.”

"You wanted to find me?” you echo. The part of you that's been hoping for this moment at war with the part that's been dreading it.

"Yeah, I needed to see you.” You hear her sigh, debating whether to continue, “thought we could talk."

The sincerity in her tone is disarming, and despite the hurt, a part of you wants to lean into the familiarity of her presence, to the shared history you’re still desperately clinging too. 

"Talk?" 

She nods, swallowing hard. “About the pictures you took the other day…” She begins, her voice trailing off briefly as she looks away from you, her hands fidgeting slightly, “Charlie sent me copies of them.” 

“Oh, she’s not supposed to do that, you guys only get the final edits,” the words slipping out before you can think better of it. 

"I know, but I asked her too.”

Your breath catches in your throat.

Paige continues, “-I wanted to see the ones Leo told you to stop taking.” 

You sit there in stunned silence. And, after a moment that stretches on for longer than you would have liked, she exhales, shoulders sagging. “I don’t know why I reacted like that, with the first shots I mean. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to get you in trouble with Leo. I know how much his opinion means to you and I had been thinking that if you got me lectured by Geno I’d want an apology, so… yeah.” She finishes.

An un-familiar coldness washes over you as you digest her words. This isn't what you thought was happening, she was deviating from the script you had imagined, and essentially memorized by now with how often you replayed it in your head. “That’s what you want to apologize for?” You’re unable to keep the shock and anger from seeping into your tone. You lean back in your chair, arms crossing, subconsciously trying to protect yourself from the hurt you know she’s about to make you feel again.  

“That’s all I have to apologize for.”

The tension between you crackles, a palpable energy that draws an invisible wall, furthering the separation between the two of you. "You think that's it?" Disbelief coloring your tone. "After ghosting me and making Azzi come tell me not to talk to you anymore, that's what you think you need to apologize for? Getting me in trouble with Leo?"

She looks taken aback, perhaps not expecting your reaction to be so intense. For a moment, she is silent, her eyes darting away before meeting yours again, this time with a mixture of frustration and pain. 

"Come on, we were never even really friends.” She speaks softly, tone bordering on patronizing.

You can’t blink back the tears as they form in your eyes now, 'this isn't going to end well'.

“Don’t lie to me Bueckers.”

Paige recoils slightly at the sound of her last name leaving your mouth, as if your words are physical blows. For a moment, she seems to be struggling with something, then her posture stiffens, an accusing finger reaching out to point at you and she doubles down on her statement as everything seems to begin to escalate quicker than you're able to process it.

Paige’s words are muddled in your ears. “We both know that I was just your muse or whatever the hell you want to call it. You did not treat me like a friend, you used me to get praise from Leo and whoever the hell else you thought you needed approval from. You took me for your art when I was at my lowest, again and again, just because my face got your work attention.” 

The accusation stings, not just because of its intensity, but because part of you knows there's some truth in it. You've always known how compelling she was in front of the camera, how her expressions could turn simple photos into art, and you loved it. 

Before everything fell apart, the two of you had become something of a dynamic duo. Everywhere Paige went, often for basketball, you followed, and everywhere you went, a camera was almost always hanging around your neck. 

The passion Paige had for her sport and the passion you had for your art is what originally brought the two of you together, bonding over the drive each of you had to constantly be your at your best, for better or for worse. 

____

It was your freshman year. You had just been offered a coveted spot on the UConn sports media team after your photojournalism professor, Leo Howard, had apparently spent the entire semester showing your work to his collogues who had unanimously agreed, you were going to be something special.  Being the only freshman to ever have been allowed to serve as the lead photographer at the school’s games was a big deal. The pressure not fully weighing down on you until the night before the UConn, Notre Dame women’s basketball game. 

They had started you out small, tennis, water polo, even a soccer match as your superiors had gained more confidence in you. But this would be the first big event you’d shoot, your first chance to really prove yourself, to prove that Leo was right about you. 

The clock had just struck midnight when you made your way across campus, having given up on trying to get any sleep earlier in the night. Opting instead to head to the athletics department gym where they had allowed you to stash away your things in a small, abandoned office room. Assuming that'd be better than staying cooped up in your dorm all night. 

When you arrived, instead of being greeted by the silent gym you’d anticipated, a woman was stood at the half court line, a basketball bouncing up to meet her outstretched palm before being pushed down, again, again, again. 

“The gym’s closed.” Her voice calls out to you, finally noticing you as you made your way across the court, heading for the office door. 

You had lifted your UConn Staff lanyard up to show to her, “I could tell you the same thing.” 

She approached you, your height difference becoming more apparent the closer she gets until she’s fully towering over you, “I don’t remember seeing you around here.” 

“I’m the new photographer, I just started last month.”

This explanation apparently does little to clarify your sudden appearance in her court, “okay, but you’re not supposed to be here, it’s late.” She points out, her tone mixing curiosity with a hint of concern.

“I know but I’m shooting my first big event tomorrow and I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d just come here and look at some old shots and stuff, prepare you know?” you rambled, hoping to justify your presence in the gym at such an unusual hour.

You’ve gotten her attention now, “Oh, I have a game tomorrow, is that what you’re here for?” 

You had of course, assumed she was on the basketball team when you saw her dribbling the ball earlier. But as when she had moved to stand in front of you, you immediately recognized her as the infamous Paige Bueckers, the star player you’d been specifically ordered to get good shots of during this game. 

"Yes, that's exactly it. I’ll be covering the game," you confirmed, feeling a slight relief as she seemed to recognize your role and accept the reason behind your late-night visit.

“Oh, cool, I guess I’ll be seeing you tomorrow then?” 

You nod in response, “yeah, I guess you will.” 

She gives you a small smile before beginning to walk back to her original position on the court, “I’m Paige by the way!” She calls out as you reach the door, you turn back, shouting your name out, already anticipating the next time you’d get to see her.

As it turns out, you don’t have to wait long. Barely 30 minutes have passed when you’re interrupted by a knock on your door, “hey,” she lets herself into the small office space, taking a seat on your desk. 

“Hey?” 

This girl has guts you can’t help but think. You’d just met and now she’s propping herself up on your furniture, uninvited. And you’d probably be a lot more bothered by her behavior if you weren’t so distracted by how pretty she looked, even under the glow of the notoriously unflattering florescent office lights.  

“I was thinking, you need to practice shooting basketball games, and I’m just practicing shooting so if you wanted you could take pictures of me, you know, to get the hang of it.” She offers. 

“Oh, yeah that actually sounds great!” You're unable to keep your excitement about getting to spend more time with her entirely out of your voice when you reply; grabbing your camera bag as she moves off your desk to stand back up, holding the door open before following you back out to the court. 

“Honestly I’m kinda tired so I’m only doing free throws but feel free to take whatever pictures you want.” 

You nod, taking her words to heart, the clicks of your camera mingling with the pounding of the ball on the floor as you take picture after picture after picture. 

It doesn’t take long for the two of you to fall into a steady rhythm, occasionally daring to interrupt the other’s focus with questions, jokes, or quick quips about the others work. 

The next day whenever she gets a basket, her eyes turn to you first, pointing at your camera for you to get a shot, and every time she does, you take it. 

You’ve never seen Leo smile so big as he does when he gets your contact sheet.

The “You did good, kid. I hope to keep seeing more stuff like this.” echoing in your mind when you leave his office, calling Paige, “when’s the next time you can shoot?”

She had left practice the second she heard your voice over the phone, “I can be free now.” 

____

You’re abruptly pulled from your memory by the chime of the café door. A group of girls enters, their laughter and chatter filling the air. One girl stands out, wearing a stark white jersey with the number 5 displayed prominently across her chest. The sight of it jolts you back to the present, a reminder of where you are and what’s at stake.

'Fuck this is bad.'

“Paige we can’t do this here” you say keeping your voice low, sensing that this may not end well, and as Paige had just mentioned, any pictures taken of her end up everywhere, and if captured, this probably wouldn’t end up being a pretty one. 

She exhales sharply, her lips parting to argue, but then she pauses, her gaze shifting to follow yours, brows raising when she sees her lucky number 5 on the chest of a brunette who is now whispering with her friends, looking Paige's way. With a reluctant nod, she chooses silence, perhaps unable to concede that you might be right.

The two of you don’t make it far, your new location being her parked car that had been right outside. You assume the two of you will drive somewhere more private but the second the doors lock she’s turned back to you, brows raised in anticipation of your still pending rebuttal. 

You take a deep breath, struggling to find the right words to express the mix of anger and hurt that's been simmering inside you since you first heard her pathetic attempt at an apology 10 minutes ago. “Let’s get one thing straight, if I wasn’t your best friend, you most certainly were not my ‘muse’.”

The sharp sound of her laughter interrupts you, “okay then, you were just using my face to further your career and you didn’t give a single fuck about me.” 

Your anger only pulses hotter at her laughter. If you had thought the silence between you two was bad, then this must be hell. Everything she says, every expression she makes sends you spiraling deeper and deeper down. You don’t even want to look at her anymore, scared that if you catch her gaze again, the once warm and loving looks you remember her by will be permanently tainted by the pure and utter distain that seems to be consuming her now.

You want to reach out, to say something that will mend the rift, but fear and doubt hold you back. In this moment, you realize just how fragile your connection has become, teetering on the edge of collapse.

"I wasn't using you," you assert firmly, struggling to keep your voice level. "Yes, you've helped my career—that's undeniable. But that was never the only thing you were for me. Our friendship, what I thought was our friendship, meant more to me than any photo ever could."

Paige's laughter fades, and she looks at you, her expression hardening as she processes your words. 

"It didn't feel that way to me," she shoots back, her voice tight. "Every time you needed something for your portfolio or an exhibit, who did you turn to, not any of your other friends, me. Don’t you think that’s a little strange.” 

The accusation stings, God she really knew nothing about you, did she? 

“I reached out to you because I thought you liked it. Every time I took something you posted it, on media days you always requested me specifically, even when we were freshman and there were people who knew much more than I did, so don’t try to delude yourself, we both benefited from this. But at least I was under the impression that we liked spending time together, that it wasn't all just so I could get more praise for my pictures.” 

She stares at you, her expression blank, as if your words are too much for her to process.

"You actually need to just leave now," her hand reaching to unlock the car doors while she motions for you to exit.

'She's scared, back down, stop this while you still can.' You think, but emotion takes over before you can stop yourself.

“No," you reply appalled, "you can't just kick me out because I made a good point.” 

She lets out a dismissive scoff, her hands moving to grip the steering wheel tightly, knuckles white with tension. "This is my car and I’m asking you to leave.” 

Your eyes narrow feeling a sudden surge of familiar desperation. “You’ve walked away from me once, I’m not about to let you do it again.” You take a deep breath, “if you really thought I was using you, you wouldn’t have agreed to shoot with me constantly for the last 2 years. So why are you really shutting me out Paige?” You press, watching her closely. Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat echoing your fear of losing her for good.

She just stares at you, her gaze cold and unwavering, each of you refusing to be the one to break eye contact with the other. 

She diverts her gaze, her eyes finally falling away from yours. Staying silent for a full minute before she straightens up, seemingly gathering her composure, and shifts the conversation topic away from her wrongdoings and back to yours.

“Intentions don’t matter anymore. Actions do. And your actions have shown me exactly where I stand in your life. Tell me again, what's your most famous photo, huh?"

It's a low blow, and it doesn’t take long for you to catch onto what she’s talking about. The two of you have had quite a few viral moments but one far surpassed the other.

There was only one picture that had landed a coveted cover spot on the headlined article on ESPN, a place in CNN’s ‘This Week in Pictures’ and internship offers from all the way in New York to L.A. 

____

She had crumpled to the ground, clutching her knee in agony, silencing the crowd in an instant. Her teammates had quickly formed a barrier around her, protecting her. Through a narrow gap between them, her eyes, wide and brimming with pain and vulnerability, darted around frantically until they finally locked onto yours. 

It was a look of pure, raw emotion—a silent plea for comfort, for reassurance, for the familiar presence that had always been her anchor. 

Her hand reached out, trembling, as if by some miracle, your touch could erase the pain. And in that moment, as she reached desperately towards you, almost mechanically, you lifted your camera. 

The weight of it felt heavier than ever before. Looking through the viewfinder, you saw her in perfect focus, every detail of her suffering magnified. Her eyes, filled with a mixture of hope and despair, seemed to question your every move.

As you pressed the shutter, capturing the raw, gut-wrenching moment, a pang of guilt surged through you. The image was powerful, a testament to her strength and vulnerability, but it came at a cost.

Lowering the camera, you were left standing there, the echo of the shutter still ringing in your ears. You wanted to drop everything and run to her, but the moment had passed. The damage was done. Her eyes, now filled with a sense of betrayal, lingered on you before she turned away, her teammates closing ranks around her once more.

____

You gape at her, a million thoughts running through your mind, none of them coherent enough to form a sentence. You thought about this picture frequently; its creation was instinctive, driven by a reflex that you hadn't fully understood even as you pressed the shutter.  You’d always (foolishly) assumed that she had known that you never meant for the photo to get out. It was a mistake, a lapse in judgment, a moment of weakness where your professional instincts overpowered your personal loyalty.

'This is it, this is why she's not talking to you, this whole time it's been your fault.'

It was never meant to be published—but Leo had discovered it, and from there, it spiraled out of your control, gaining a life of its own in the public eye. 

The image, once released, spread like wildfire. It became the defining shot of your career and the defining wound of hers.

“Paige, I-“

She shakes her head no, her expression eerily similar to the one in the picture that ruined the two of you.  

“Please just leave,” she repeats, her normally deep voice an octave lower with the intensity of the emotion coursing through her words. 

Realizing you have no ground left to stand on, the least you figure you can do is abide by her request. You reach for the door handle, but her voice stops you. 

"And for the record," she begins, answering your earlier question, "I always agreed to those photos because I loved you and I thought maybe, just maybe, if I helped you get what you wanted, it might make you love me back.”

Her confession wrenches a sudden and uncontrollable sob from your throat, you want nothing more than to shut the door, wrap your arms around her, and beg for the forgiveness you know deep down you’ll never deserve until your heart gives out. 

But instead you stand, exiting the car and turning to her one last time, speaking up through tears, "I can't justify taking that picture, and I know that if I spent every moment of my life trying to make it up to you, I'd still fall short," you say, your voice choked with regret. 

Taking a deep breath, you looking up before meeting her gaze again. "And I know I didn’t show it well, but I would only spend so much time trying to make art if it was for someone I loved, and I loved you too, so much."

She looks away, blinking back tears, her shoulders trembling, she whispers, her voice barely audible, repeating the words you’d uttered just a few minutes before, “don’t lie to me.”

[aliidarling]

i searched male manipulator music to find a song for this post LMFAOO anyways guys i dyed my hair burgundy:3 i’m in my red hair era

i need to purge my urges, shame shame shame ♡

RICK GRIMES x fem!reader

part 2

nsfw content — please scroll if uncomfortable

summary: you get taken by the CRM by total coincidence and reunite with your lover who you haven’t seen in years, only to find out he’s only a fragment of the man he used to be

tags: p in v, praise, gaslighting, toxic!rick, manipulation, i’m bad at tagging

nsfw content below !!

You were lying barely alive in a field, bleeding out from your stomach. Your eyelids were heavy as you struggled to stay conscious, not wanting to die. You had so much to live for.

Everything was a blur, the blood staining your clothes. His name echoed in your head. It had been years since you saw the man you fell in love with. Ever since that day the bridge exploded, the day you lost him.

It had been almost eight years since then.

You supposed a normal person would have moved on by now, but his face and voice still haunted you, keeping you up during late hours and not allowing you to rest.

It would only be fitting that he was the last person on your mind during your last moments. You only could hope you were one of his before the bridge took his life.

Everything started to fade slowly, your ears ringing. Your eyesight was spotty. All you wished for was to reunite with him in the afterlife.

As you finally went still, the loud noise of a helicopter nearing went unheard by you.

You had no idea what was going on. You were being carried by two large soldiers wearing all black, holding you up by your arms as your body dragged on the floor. When you awoke, you were in an infirmary, all bandaged up and feeling better.

It was like they worked magic on you. The bandages around your abdomen were the only evidence of the stab wound that was once there.

“Where the hell am I?!” You yelled, your voice almost scratchy. They ignored you and continued dragging you towards a door in the hallway.

“Listen to me you fat fucks!” A screech left you as they shoved you inside the room, slamming the door behind you. You stumbled into the room, quickly regaining your balance as you clutched your side, the aggressive treatment opening your stitches slightly.

“Jesus, what the f… Your words were trailed as you looked up and realized four people were staring at you, all of them seated in a row with one empty seat in front of them. You blinked slowly.

One of them calmly smiled at you and motioned for you to sit. You gritted your teeth, looking around the room. Soldiers were standing by the walls, guns in their hands.

You sighed and hesitantly sat down, giving them a blank look.

It had been a week since then. They explained the overall situation you were in, and how they had found you half-dead in a field and saved you. You felt a little grateful, obviously, but you couldn’t shake off the weird feeling this place gave you.

The way they didn’t let you leave no matter what you said was what freaked you out the most.

“What do you mean I can’t leave?!” You snapped, raising your voice at the tall man before you. He had introduced himself as Okafor and was one of your superiors. For the last week, you had been dragged outside by the gate, handed a sharp spear, and instructed to kill walkers without any choice in the matter.

He rolls his eyes at you and frowns, staring down at you.

“Why would you want to leave? We’re giving you a place to stay with a small fee for some labor.” He scoffs, ushering you off back towards the fence.

“You’re being brainwashed.” You grumble, reluctantly setting your spear back up and pulling your mask down.

Another few hours of just stabbing walkers in the head passes, tiring you. You’re leaning against the gate, blood all over your clothes and the jacket they supplied you with.

“Good job, rookie,” Okafor comments playfully, giving you a pat on the shoulder. You grumble and push him off.

“This place sucks ass. I just wanna go home.”

Okafor hums and shrugs at you.

“Sorry to break the news, but there’s no chance. Only one man in history has attempted to leave, and even he didn’t make it.”

This sparks your interest for a moment before you sigh and turn away.

“Am I done for the day?”

Okafor grins and immediately shakes his head, making you groan and cross your arms. You had been in the heat for half the day now, you were sweating and all you wanted to do was go home and wash all this blood off you.

“We have a commander coming to do a check-in. He’ll be here in around ten minutes, so stay put.” The words leave him smoothly, not giving you even a second to complain before he turns away and starts talking to another one of his men.

With a groan, you picked up your spear and started stabbing the walkers again. You felt like that’s all you’ve been doing recently, other than planning on how to escape this place.

A few long minutes later, you hear a name being yelled that makes your heart stop.

“Commander Grimes!” Okafor yells happily as a tall man in a tactical suit walks up to him, his back to you. Your blood ran cold as you prayed that it was some coincidence.

Even still, if it was a coincidence it would still make you feel sick. The universe always had its way of making fun of you, and now it was making you hear his name everywhere.

You stared at the man’s back, silently praying that when he turned around it would be him. Or wouldn’t. You were confused with yourself— you didn’t know if you wanted to see him alive if it meant he was working for this corrupted military.

But your heart ached, even if the cons weighed you down. You found yourself staring, walkers long forgotten.

Okafor notices you staring and frowns, turning his attention from the commander to you with a wave of his hand.

“C’mere, rookie. You gotta meet Commander Grimes.”

Oh fuck.

Your legs felt wobbly like they could buckle from underneath you at any second. With your legs working on auto drive and your mind racing at a thousand thoughts per second, you found yourself walking towards the two men.

Once you reached them, the tall man slowly turned to look at you. It felt like should have been in slow motion, but in reality, it was all going way too fast.

The commander turned to look down at you, his blue eyes and curls making you want to vomit. It was him. Of course, it was him.

His eyes were emotionless, his face completely blank. He stared at you like you were any other person. Like you weren’t the woman he shared a bed with for years. The woman who helped him raise Carl.

“Sweetheart, your mask,” Okafor comments mockfully, making you grimace. That’s probably why he’s staring at you like you were a piece of dust.

“S-Sorry, sir.” Your voice cracked slightly as you quickly pulled your mask off, your hair getting tangled slightly. You quickly brush it out of your eyes, blinking rapidly. Gulping down the nausea, you looked back up to meet Rick’s eyes.

He was frozen, his lips parted and eyes wide, not making a single noise. His back was turned to Okafor, so only you could see the expression he had. The expression of shock, realization, and recognition.

After a long moment of silence between the three of you, you held your hand up to your temple and saluted him, your fingers trembling.

“Commander Grimes.” Your voice shook as you pressed your lips together.

He stared at you for another long few seconds before nodding, so subtle you barely noticed. Everything in his body was on fire, alarms blaring and his heart pounding.

There you were. Standing in front of him. Saluting to him.

“Welcome to the CRM, consignee..” He trailed on.

You held back a laugh before muttering your name, glancing at him, the ground, and then back to Okafor.

“Am I free to go?” You said rather harshly, your fists clenching.

Okafor gave you a once-over, judging your dirty clothes stained by walker blood and messy hair from the mask. He hums before waving you off.

“Yeah, whatever, I’ll see you here at 8am tomorrow morning.” He mutters before going back into casual conversation with Rick.

As you walked away, you could feel a pair of eyes burning a hole into your back.

Just later that night, you were in your given apartment. It didn’t feel like home, like Alexandria. Your mind stayed on Judith and RJ, freaking out about whether they were alright or not.

Judith had stopped answering you a few days before you got captured. You knew a part of you was delusional for going out on a whole entire journey to find your lover when this whole time he was living luxury at the CRM. He was a commander, fuck.

What were you doing? Staying here? You needed to escape now, find Rick, and ask him what he was doing here. You wouldn’t leave without him, that was for sure.

You crawled up on your bed, hunching closer to the window. It led to a fire escape but was sealed tightly shut. For a place that says they never had anyone want to leave, they’re pretty cautious with these types of things.

Glancing at the mini kitchen, you got an idea. You grabbed one of the knives and got back on the bed and kneeled down next to the window and started to slide the knife between the slits, hoping to hear a crack or any type of noise that would alert you you’re going in the right path.

Not even mid-way through your little escape attempt, your door suddenly slammed open. You shrieked and dropped the knife, sitting up and turning towards your door.

Rick stood there, staring at you with a panicked expression. He shut the door, locked in, before turning back to you. He was wearing dark clothing still, but not tactical. Instead, he wore a button-up paired with jeans, with a leather jacket on top.

He rushed towards you and grabbed you, cupping your face with shaky hands and trembling lips. You immediately leaned back into him with the same expression, happy to finally be with him, and happy he still cared for you.

“You- you— why—“ He furrowed his brows as he patted you down in a panic, not believing the fact you sat before him. His hands were shaky as he cupped your face again and leaned down towards you, scanning every detail on your face.

“Rick, Rick— is it really you?” You gasped softly, sitting up further and pulling him in by wrapping your arms around his shoulders. He places one hand on the back of your neck while his other stays on your back, pushing you into him.

“It’s me, baby, swear. S’me.” He soothingly brushes his fingers through your hair before gently placing his other hand on your chin. His thumb picks at your bottom lip.

“What are ya’ doing here, sweetie? How’d ya’ find me?” His voice was soft and gentle, lowered. His thumb gently pulls your lip down before leaning his down. He breaths onto your lips.

“I-I— I’ve been, I’ve been looking. I swear. Almost died and CRM took me.” You muttered shakily. Rick frowns and massages the back of your head gently.

“You almost died?” He mumbled and gently pressed a kiss to your forehead. You whined softly, wanting nothing more then his lips on yours. Your hands clawed at his jacket. He giggles and pushes you down onto your bed, crawling over you and pressing your body down with his.

“You’re okay, now, right? Good girl, keep being good for me.” You nod in response as he kisses your neck, your eyes fluttering shut as your hands gently tug at his hair.

“Missed you.” You whimper into his ear, a soft moan leaving you as he nuzzles his beard into your sensitive flesh. His hips grind down on yours, the two of you desperate for each other.

“God, can’t even describe how much I missed ya’, gonna fuck you so good.” He almost whines. His hands come down by your sides and grab at you. He presses his lips against you hard.

A muffled moan leaves you as he sits up over you slightly. He pushes one of his knees between your legs and puts pressure against your core, his hand going to your shirt.

“I’m not gonna let you leave this time, kay’?” His eyes darkened as he said this, making you shiver. With a hesitant nod, Rick starts to pull your shirt off. Once you were topless underneath him, his lips pressed gentle kisses against every inch of your torso.

His breath brushed against your breasts. Your bra was the only thing separating him from your breasts. Without another second to spare, he reaches behind you to unclasp your bra.

This was all going so fast.

“Wait— Rick,” You whine softly, trying to sit up. He shushes you, cupping your breasts and pushing you back down, colluding his lips with your neck.

“Haven’t seen you in eight years, sweetheart. Nothing you do can get me off you.” He chuckles darkly, nuzzling his scratchy beard against your sensitive throat before pulling away and lowering his predatory gaze to your breasts.

A small moan left your lips as his hands started to massage your breasts, his warm palms gliding over your chest. Your nipples hardened, making him chuckle. He leans down, tweaking one of them with his finger and gently taking the other in his mouth.

Your eyes flutter as you find yourself being pleasured by the man you’ve been dreaming of for years— your body being treated like a vase. He was so gentle and soft with you, kissing every inch he could reach. His hands were soothing as they caressed you.

It still felt odd though. Something about his dark gaze and his possessive words had you shivering under him, looking up at his eyes. The new scars on his body had you wondering what he went through.

He was holding you close to his chest, hugging you tightly and humming soft little praises into your ear. His cock was buried deep inside you, your walls fitting him like a vise. He moaned into your ear, holding you so tightly you wouldn’t be surprised if you ended up with bruises.

His hips rocked smoothly, pushing himself deeper and deeper, wanting all you could offer. He wanted every inch of you and never wanted to let go.

“Good girl, so good for me, pussy so tight around me,“ He groans into your ear. His voice was raspy as his hands tightened around you, one on the back of your neck and gripping it. He held your face towards him so he could lean down to give you kisses whenever he wanted.

His other hand went down to work at your clit, humming approvingly as you clenched down at the pressure and let out an adorable little mewl under him.

“Wanna cum? Hmm?” He coos, gently rubbing your sensitive spot, leaning closer, and nuzzling into your neck. His thrusts get harder.

“P-Please, Rick, love you so much—“ You choke out, grabbing at him to steady yourself as he batters your insides. Your toes curled as your eyes rolled back, broken whines leaving your throat.

“Oh, oh, oh God— p-please! I’ve been so good..” You cried out into his ear as your words started to slur together. Your lips were quivering as he kept slamming his cock into your tight hole over and over again, sending you right over the edge.

“Yeah, you gonna cum? Mmm, good girl, just like that,” He whispers softly as he pounds into you more as you spasm around him. He feels your little cunt go tight around him and let out your juices. He grunts at the feeling, burying himself as deep as he could as he closes his eyes and leans his head back, relishing in the feeling of cumming inside you for the first time in eight heat.

“Yeah, sweet little baby. So good for me.” He groans as he fucks you gently through your orgasm, listening to your shaky moans and cries as your release keeps getting dragged on and on, more cum leaking out from your hole.

With a shaky sigh, he makes sure he has completely milked you out before slowly pulling out, small squelching sounds filling the silence. Your breaths were shaky, and so were his, both of you exhausted after the passionate love-making session.

“Rick..” You mumble tiredly, looking over at him. You lay limp on the bed, your pussy a mess with both your cums dripping out.

He smiles and looks over, now standing up and reaching for his boxers. He leans over you and pressed a sweet kiss to your forehead, his thumb squishing your cheeks together.

“I’ll clean you up, kay? Gimme a sec, hun.” He says sweetly before pulling away once again and walking off to your bathroom.

A few minutes later the two of you laid in your shitty bed together, the mess between your thighs cleaned up. You were currently receiving a back massage from him, oddly enough. You laid on your belly as his large hands worked on your back muscles.

He stared down at you, admiring every little change in your body. He wished he was there for you all those years he wasn’t.

“What happened?” You asked softly, peering at him from over your shoulder. You felt him press his thumb down on a knot in your shoulder, making you whine softly.

“…You want me to start from the start?” He chuckles dryly. You give a hesitant nod.

“…Anne found me.. half dead on the riverbank. She was working with the CRM and turned me in, saved my life.” He spoke with a small hint of gratitude in his words, masked by his deadpan tone.

You continued to lay there silently, enjoying the back massage but still wanting him to explain everything. Was that all he was gonna say?

“..And? Did they— did they force you to stay? Did they hurt you?” You stuttered, wanting some type of explanation why he never came back. You wouldn’t be able to handle it if you found out he had willingly stayed here for eight years.

He was silent for a moment, his palm pressing down on your shoulder blades and rubbing in small circles. His eyes gaze down at you, wondering what to say to make himself not sound like the bad guy.

“No.” He mutters after a moment.

You felt like your entire world had shattered again, like he was being ripped from your arms like that day on the bridge.

“Why didn’t you try to come back?” Your voice cracked, making him realize he had screwed up. He hesitates on what to do before quickly pulling you into his arms, rubbing your back gently, and nuzzling your face into his chest.

“I did, sweetheart, promise. Tried a few times, but they stopped me. Made me realize what this place was. It’s life-changing, baby, you gotta give it a chance. I want you to stay here with me, kay? For me? Please, you gotta do it. If you loved me you’d stay, wouldn’t you?” He whispers soothingly, his words like daggers as he holds you tighter with every passing second.

“W-What? Rick? No— I can’t—“ You attempted to pull away, making him growl and push you down on the bed, crawling over you and planting his arms on each side of you.

“No, you gotta listen to me.” He says firmly, his eyes dark. Who was this man? Why was he treating you like this? The Rick you knew would never speak to you like this.

“Rick—"

He shushes you.

“You’re staying here with me, got it? It’s safe here. You’ll be safe. Don’t you wanna stay with me? Don’t you want tonight to happen over and over again?” He whispers, his dark tone turning into a sickeningly sweet one, his hand coming to cup your cheek and gently caress your skin.

“I can't, Rick. What about A-Alexandria? Judith? Maggie and Daryl— they’re all— you need to come home! This place isn’t good, good for you, good for us.” You attempt to plead.

Your words fall on deaf ears as he shushes you again, the dark look in his eyes coming back. He stares down at you in an almost offended manner.

“Are you trying to manipulate me?” He scoffs, sitting up and giving you a disgusted look. You freeze, quickly sitting up and attempting to reach for him. He clicks his tongue and pushes you away.

“I cant believe you sweetheart, just got me back, and is already trying to fall for your words. I thought you loved me?” He whispers slowly, glaring at you with narrowed eyes.

Your heart stops as his words settle in your throat, your eyes wide. Panic overtakes you as you quickly pull him back in and hug him tightly, trembling now.

“N-No, no, I swear— I wasn’t, I’m sorry, I’m sorry Rick, please don’t leave me.” Your words are small and fearful, fearful of him leaving you after you just found him.

His eyes soften as he keeps the sick grin from overtaking his face, his hands going to gently cradle you in his chest. He hums sweetly, rubbing your head.

“It’s okay, I know you’re just a lil’ confused. I’ve gotcha, sweetheart. I love you, okay? I’ll keep you safe and sound, just gotta stay here with me, can you do that? For me?”

“Y-Yea— yes, yes, anything for you.” You stammer, curling into his arms with watery eyes and shaky limbs. You didn’t want him to leave you, not again.

“Good girl. Knew you’d snap back to reality.” He chuckles dryly. His large hands hold you close to him, humming gently into your ear and rocking your small body.

The two of you lay there for a long time until you were asleep and gently snoring, and he was staring down at your vulnerable form, thinking.

You weren’t gonna go anywhere, and he’d make sure of that. He had searched for you for too long to let you slip away now, he’d rather die than watch you leave. He just needs to find a way to get Judith here, and you’ll all be the happy family you once were.

He’d make sure you had nowhere to go, even if it meant hurting you and twisting your sight on the world.

lmk if u want a part 2? idk what i could make happen but there's def potential

[bikinibottomdayz]

NOVEMBER 10, 2024 RELEASE

All my videos can be found here, full release under the read more! If interested, please contact me at bikinibottomtrading@gmail.com!

This release includes: Romeo + Juliet, & Juliet (cast change), Death Becomes Her, Moulin Rouge! (Aaron + JoJo), Ragtime, Safety Not Guranteed

& JULIET October 27, 2024 (E) | Broadway | 4K MP4 (10.56GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Maya Boyd (Juliet), Alison Luff (Anne), Drew Gehling (Shakespeare), Megan Kane (u/s Nurse), Paulo Szot (Lance), Justin David Sullivan (May), Philippe Arroyo (Francois), Ben Jackson Walker (Romeo), Phil Colgan (s/w Crosse/Bathroom Attendant), Andrew Chappelle (Lord Capulet/Sly), Virgil Gadson (Augustine), Makai Hernandez (Richard), Najah Hetsberger (Lady Capulet/Nell), Joomin Hwang (Kempe), Khailah Johnson (Judith/Rosaline), Ava Noble (s/w Titania), Jasmine Raphael (Imogen), Matt Raffy (Gregory), Bex Robinson (Charion), Tiernan Tunniclffe (Eleanor/Benvolio) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of cast change performance! Final performance for Philippe, Justin, Ben, Phil, Andrew, Virgil, Megan, Jasmine, Matt, Bex, and Tiernan. Minor obstruction that blocks off some action on the right but is worked around well. Some moments of wandering and unfocusing. Includes curtain call and the post-show speech, audio is fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBPL3Y | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL MAY 2, 2025

DEATH BECOMES HER October 23, 2024 | Broadway (Previews) | 4K MP4 (10.07GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Megan Hilty (Madeline Ashton), Jennifer Simard (Helen Sharp), Christopher Sieber (Ernest Melville), Michelle T. Williams (Viola Van Horn), Marija Abney (Ensemble), Lauren Celentano (Ensemble), Sarita Colón (Ensemble), Kaleigh Cronin (Ensemble), Natalie Charle Ellis (Ensemble), Taurean Everett (Ensemble), Michael Graceffa (Ensemble), Neil Haskell (Ensemble), Kolton Krouse (Ensemble), Josh Lamon (Ensemble), Sarah Meahl (Ensemble), Ximone Rose (Ensemble), Sir Brock Warren (Ensemble), Bud Weber (Ensemble), Ryan Worsing (Ensemble), Warren Yang (Ensemble) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of this show’s first preview! Minor head obstruction on the far left and on the bottom, doesn't block action except for a few moments. Some short blackouts scattered throughout the show because of people getting up and walking the aisles. Increased wandering / readjustment and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call, audio is fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBPwL6 | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL MAY 2, 2025

MOULIN ROUGE! October 2, 2024 (E) | Broadway | 4K MP4 (10.43GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Joanna "JoJo" Levesque (Satine), Aaron Tveit (Christian), Patrick Clanton (s/b Harold Zidler), David Harris (The Duke of Monroth), André Ward (Toulouse Lautrec), Alexander Gil Cruz (Santiago), Sophie Carmen-Jones (Nini), Nicci Claspell (Arabia), Jacqueline B. Arnold (La Chocolat), Jeigh Madjus (Baby Doll), Nick Martinez (Pierre), Giovanni Bonaventura (s/w Ensemble), Cameron Burke (s/w Ensemble), Aaron C. Finley (Ensemble), Bahiyah Hibah (Ensemble), Kamal Lado (Ensemble), Heather Makalani (Ensemble), Kaitlin Mesh (Ensemble), Jenn Stafford (Ensemble), Brooke Taylor (Ensemble), Alex Varcas (Ensemble), Frank Viveros (Ensemble), Cole Joseph Wachman (Ensemble), Michael Bryan Wang (s/w Ensemble), Jordan Wynn (Ensemble) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of the show’s 1500th performance! Three short blackouts, lasting 90 seconds near the end of “Sympathy for the Duke,” 30 seconds after “Nature Boy,” and 25 seconds after “Backstage Romance.” Action on the far left and on the walkway is somewhat obstructed. A railing is also visible and occasionally blocks off action but is usually unintrusive. Some wandering and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call, and encore, audio is fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBL7yf | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL MAY 2, 2025

RAGTIME November 3, 2024 (E) | Broadway | 4K MP4 (10.86GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Joshua Henry (Coalhouse Walker Jr.), Caissie Levy (Mother), Brandon Uranowitz (Tateh), Nichelle Lewis (Sarah), Colin Donnell (Father), Ben Levi Ross (Mother’s Younger Brother), Matthew Lamb (Little Boy), Tabitha Lawing (Little Girl), Stephanie Styles (Evelyn Nesbit), Shaina Taub (Emma Goldman), John Clay III (Booker T. Washington), Todd Cyrus (Harry Houdini), Kai Latorre (Coalhouse Walker III), Nicholas Barrón, Briana Carlson-Goodman, Billy Cohen, Rheaume Crenshaw, Tanika Gibson, Olivia Hernandez (Kathleen), David Jennings, Marina Kondo, Jeff Kready (Henry Ford), Tiffany Mann (Sarah’s Friend), Morgan Marcell, Tom Nelis (Grandfather), Ramone Nelson, John Rapson (J.P. Morgan / Admiral Peary), Destinee Rea, Deandre Sevon, Kathy Voytko, Jacob Keith Watson (Willie Conklin), Alan Wiggins Notes: Excellent 4K capture of this very anticipated production! Minor head obstruction blocks off some action on the far left during the opening number but disappears for the rest of the show. Increased wandering and unfocusing throughout. Some washout on the wider shots. Includes curtain call, audio is fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBQEix | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL MAY 2, 2025

ROMEO + JULIET October, 2024 | Broadway | 4K MP4 (10.1GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Kit Connor (Romeo), Rachel Zegler (Juliet), Taheen Modak (Benvolio), Gabby Beans (Mercutio/Friar Laurence), Solá Fádìran (Lord Capulet/Lady Capulet), Tommy Dorfman (Tybalt/The Nurse), Daniel Velez (u/s Paris/Sampson/Peter), Nihar Duvvuri (Balthasar), Jasai Chase-Owens (Gregory), Daniel Bravo Hernández (Abraham) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of this star-studded revival! Minor head obstruction that doesn’t block off anything. Action that takes place on the catwalk and on the far sides of the theatre (not on stage) are mostly uncaptured. One blackout in both acts lasting 40 seconds each. Some moments of wandering / readjustment and unfocusing. Includes curtain call, audio is fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBQ9bx | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL MAY 2, 2025

SAFETY NOT GUARANTEED September 26, 2024 | BAM (Previews) | 4K MP4 (8.12GB) | bikinibottomday’s master Cast: Nkeki Obi-Melekwe (Darius), Taylor Trensch (Kenneth), Pomme Koch (Jeff), Rohan Kymal (Arnau), Ashley Pérez Flanagan (Liz/Belinda/Others), John-Michael Lyles (Tristan/Others) Notes: Excellent 4K capture of this world premiere musical! Increased moments of wandering / readjustment and unfocusing throughout. Includes curtain call, audio fed from external source. https://flic.kr/s/aHBqjBKeEe | ASKING $20 USD NOT FOR SHARING EXCEPT THROUGH ME UNTIL MAY 2, 2025

[tainted-liquor]

✮ 4th Baby Mama‧₊˚ ⋅ 「15.10.23」 ft. Earth42 Miles G. Morales

ingredients; Sugar, kisses, n a lil bit of smiles!

Listen, ik you said make it just one, but a part 2 is going to be made lol

It was a warm day out in Brooklyn, New York. The air gently caressed and kissed your skin, leaving your blue plaid skirt flowing as you trekked through the messy streets of Brooklyn. You paid no attention to the gunshots, explosions, or any of the...cherry-wine tinted 'spills' coming from a random trash bag in the alley. You mumbled along to the music you had blasting through your blue metallic beats, putting a slight pep in your step as Summer Walker spoke to your soul.

"I wanna start wit' yo mama, she shoulda whooped yo ass..." you grunted, giggling to yourself before swinging open the massive oak doors to Brooklyn Visions Academy. You felt rather giddy about the day ahead, knowing that you would be getting robotic babies as part of your home economics class. The problem was that you didn't know who you would be partnered with. It was all shits and giggles, and you were pretty sure the task would be as easy as ever. No matter who you were partnered with! Right?

No.

You made your way to the locker, checking your lashes and light makeup in the small mirror you had placed in the top right corner before placing all your unnecessary materials inside the navy blue metal. You did a quick fluff of your slick low bun and threw on your clear-framed glasses. You opened up your spearmint mentos gum, popping two small pieces in your mouth before closing your locker and proceeding through the bustling halls to find your friends. You lowered your headphones down to your neck, pausing the music and locating your girls all crowded together in what sounded like frantic whispers and sharp giggles. Catching up to the rest of the group, you merged into their tight circle to see what was going on as they all looked down at each other's phones.

"Yooo, what's happening? What y'all lookin' at?" You inquired whilst pulling out your phone and opening your school email. You turned your head to face your friend, Tierra, watching as the cyber-blue hue illuminated her facial features as she stared down at her screen with a hand over her mouth. Layla spoke up, nudging you gently so you could see what she was talking about, "They picked the partners for the...the fuckin' baby project at random!" She giggled, tears pricking her waterline as she flipped her screen to show you what was on her phone. You scanned through the list, eyes widening when you came across your name right next to Miles'.

"WHAT!" You shouted, breaking out into laughter with the rest of the group. "They paired me with my fuckin' ex, at least you got that quiet kid!" Tierra grunted, whacking you on the shoulder with a rolled-up homework assignment. You nearly fell on the floor, gripping Katie's shoulder while she held up upright. The idea of raising a baby, real or not, with a stranger sounded hilarious. You weren't mad, but he wasn't exactly the partner you wanted. You originally hoped for one of your girlfriends, or maybe even a cute guy from the basketball team that you could yap about later. But alas, the forms were out and the choices were final, so there was nothing more that you could do.

You were familiar with Miles; saying hi to him now and again in the hallways and always getting the same upward nod in the process. He was known to be an adept artist who wasn't big on having a large circle of friends, but that didn't mean he was weird. You held your stomach as you wiped your tears, easing into the steady flow of conversation your friends began to hold before it was time for you to head to your advisory. You waved bye to your friends before heading to Mrs. Thomas’ classroom for said advisory, where she covered the school's upcoming events and big tests we needed to be ready for. You fiddled and played with a loose curl in your bun, pulling it down and watching as it sprang back up at an instantaneous rate. 

The room was dull and filled with nothing but sleep until the bell rang, signaling for everyone to file out to their next class. You hastily grabbed your things, panicking slightly at the fact that in the next 30 minutes, you would be classified as a ‘mother’. The classroom was warm and comfortable, allowing your nerves to relax slightly as you sat in your usual seat. It didn’t take long for more voices to pour in, loud gossip and strained laughter filling the room as everyone took their respective seats. ”Girl this class finna be the death of me…how we havin’ kids at 8:35 in the morning!” Your friend Jayda mumbled, finally sitting down next to you as your teacher prepared to start today’s lesson.

“Nah that’s what I’m saying…Like, tell me how I got-” you began, cutting yourself off as soon as Ms. Kaylee cleared her throat and stood up from her desk with a warm smile. She spoke, her voice cutting clearly through the silence that hung over the room like a mistletoe over a pair with chemistry as thick as butter, “Alright, everyone! I’m sure you saw the email about your partners for your week-long project, but in case you didn’t have time or missed a couple of lessons I’ll go over everything for a couple minutes before we get started with our gender reveal!” You tensed in your seat, looking over at Jayda with wide eyes and an upside-down smile. The classroom door came swinging open, revealing a Miles who had a tiny matte-black bandage right next to his lip. His uniform jacket was missing, his tie askew, and his sleeves were rolled up to his upper bicep, displaying a ton of tiny scratches and a small bruise above the curve of his elbow. 

The teacher glared at him for what felt like a minute, calmly pulling him to the side to discuss his entrance while you glared at him, too. But you weren’t staring because he was a disruption to the classroom. He looked delicious like this…when he was finally out of his usual blue school hoodie and grey slacks. You watched as he nodded at the teacher, towering over her 5’4 stature before you felt a light tap on your arm. 

“Ayo, stop drooling girl we see you” Jayda laughed, giving her a firm eye-roll as you watched Miles stroll back to his desk and sit down. Ms. Kaylee let go of a deep sigh, shaking her head before continuing with her speech. She gave a brief explanation of what it was that we’d be doing, what the final goal was, and how we would be graded on our project. She clapped her hands together, setting out a bunch of baby holders and car seats before rolling out a massive case labeled ‘RealCare’. “Alright! When I call you and your partner's name, please come up and grab one bath bomb and a pail of water”

The people around you made quick work of finding their partners and grabbing the necessary supplies between chortles and hushed conversation. Your chest felt heavy as you talked Jayda’s ear off, nearing the order of people that you last saw on the Google form she had emailed you earlier. You perked up as soon as you heard your name, turning around to see Ms. Kaylee check off two spaces on her clipboard before beckoning the both of you to come up and grab your things. You sighed, getting up from your desk and grabbing a plain white bath bomb and a small beach pale filled with lukewarm water while Miles grunted and grabbed a car seat, muscles tensing and flexing under the weight of the surprisingly heavy chunk of plastic. He turned over to look at you, nodding his head back to his desk as a signal for you to follow him while you waited for the teacher to finish reading out the pairs. 

“Wassup, Miles” you beamed, pulling up a chair in front of his desk so you could sit face-to-face with him while you placed the sunny yellow pale on the desk, holding the bath bomb as delicately as possible in your cupped hands. He nodded upward, setting the car seat on the floor next to him and cracking his knuckles. His skin was perfectly smooth, his braids laid neatly at the tip of his collarbones and he had a skinny but lean build on him. It wasn’t long after you took note of him avoiding your gaze that the teacher spoke up, instructing you to all drop your bath bombs in the pail of water and then rinse your hands at the sink. You squealed in anticipation, making sure that Miles was watching as you dropped the chalky white bath bomb into the sparkling clear water.

The bucket exploded with color, white foam suddenly turning into shades of bright pink and pastel fuchsia. You beamed from ear to ear, pure joy and excitement illuminating your face as you joined the rest of the class in their shouts of joy, exclaiming their ‘babies’ gender at the top of their lungs. Miles smiled slightly, nodding with a content expression before he leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling. Shortly after everyone's joyful exclamation, the teacher wasted no time in collecting everyone's attention and going over the plan for the next week. “You will need to devise a custody plan with your partner, so this means exchange numbers or whatever you need to do now. You may now all come up and select your baby” Ms. Kaylee explained and gestured to the now-open box.

You went up with Miles, quickly scooping up a pretty baby doll with deep brown skin and curly brown hair. You analyzed her little face, taking in her deep black eyes and light pink headband that came with her matching pink onesie while Miles got your baby bag full of supplies and wristbands. Miles cleared his throat, holding up his phone before mumbling “Just send me what days you want me to get her and I’ll make it work.”

You nodded, putting your number in his contacts and vice versa. “Actually,” he stated, gently taking the baby from your arms and hoisting up the bright pink baby bag. “I got her until lunch today. I’ll come find you and we’ll work sum’ out,” he shrugged as you handed him back his phone.

“Oh aight, bet. What we naming her?” You asked, attempting to reach for the car seat, but being instantly denied by Miles. “Uhh…” he mumbled, visibly blanking at the idea of having to name his baby. “Uhh…Anylah?” He smirked, attempting to cover up the fact he just thought of a name on the spot. You looked him up and down, playing over how the name sounded in your mind before nodding slowly. Miles let go of a deep breath, posture relaxing only a fraction before he reached into the bag to put on both of your orange wristbands.

“Aight, I’ll catch you at lunch,” Miles stated, making his way out of the classroom with a heavy load of baby items and a fake baby. You made your way to your remaining 4 classes, internally groaning at how fast the time was passing by.

“She ain’t even tell us these fuckin babies cry…I didn’t know that shit made noise! It started going off in the library!” Your friend Jayda moaned, attempting to shush her fussy baby she named Mariah. “The fuck you mean you didn’t know they cried…it was literally in the paper she gave us about the babies?” You asked, looking at her like she had a second head. She shrugged, eyeing you with slightly widened eyes and a smirk to silently convey that she didn’t read the forms. “JAYDA!” You giggled, half-shoving her as you opened up the doors to the cafeteria. The line was nothing short of demonic, so you decided to hop a couple of places forward with your friends who had already made it to the cafeteria.

The food was mediocre, but at least it was edible. You sat with your girls for a good 5 minutes, enjoying your food and conversing with each other before you spotted Miles making his way over. He held the baby like a football, making space for himself at your table with a low “excuse me” in between you and Tierra. “Aight so my schedule is weird cuz I have work some days, but I’ll make it work what days should I get this thing?” He asked, his voice low and stoic as he began typing away in the notes app on his phone. You gave him a playful glare, attempting to push down the smirk that was forming on your face. “Don’t call her a thing, this is your daughter,” you joked with an exaggerated roll of your eyes. “But you can take…Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday!” You exclaimed, taking the baby from Miles and checking your calendar. Great, Wednesday!

“My daughter huh? Aight, I gotchu,” he sniggered before tucking his phone in his back pocket. He tapped on the table, shooting you a wink you swear you hallucinated before retreating to his group of homies without another word. Your head dropped down to your fake baby, fighting back a smirk as you submerged yourself back in your conversation.

Whatever you thought this project was going to be, you certainly didn’t anticipate anything from the road ahead.

It was 1 AM, and your arms felt sore from the constant rocking of this baby that weighed nothing less than 7 pounds. You changed what felt like 4 diapers, fed her for almost 20 minutes, and spent your night pacing through your kitchen to calm her down. You whined along with the baby, praying to whoever was listening that she’d be finished soon. You grabbed your phone from your shorts pocket, quickly dialing up Miles as a last attempt. You felt like you were intruding on his private life, but something in this goddamn world has to give.

The phone rang twice, sighing to yourself when you heard the familiar ringtone come to an abrupt stop. There was rustling, what sounded like a low breathy grunt, before Miles picked up the phone. “Yo…what’s good, whatchu need?” he mumbled, his voice sounding sickeningly velvety as he attempted to shake the sleep from his vocal cords. “Uh, hey. Anylah won’t stop crying and I don’t know what to do…Can you come help, please?” You winced, balancing your phone between your cheek and shoulder. He made a low noise that sounded like a cross of a low hum of approval, and a groan of missed sleep before he got up, stretched, threw on a quick hoodie, and knotted his sweats. “I’ll be over in like…a couple minutes” he grumbled, hanging up almost as soon as you could say “thanks.”

He knocked at your front door not even five minutes later, leaving you to drown in his shadow as he stood over you with a tired, blank, and semi-serious expression. The frosty air from the outdoors nipped at any inch of skin it could find purchase, leaving you to beckon him inside the door as quickly as possible. You handed him the crying infant, watching as his eyes widened by a fraction before returning to their initial low post. “Damn, not even a hello?” He chuckled as he took a wailing Anylah in his arms, rocking the baby at an oddly specific angle. “I know you didn’t just pull up to my crib talkin’ like someone's absent baby father…” you joked, rolling your eyes and taking your respective place back on the couch. 

“Hello, Morales.” You commented, leaning your head on his shoulder sleepily as he sat next to you on the couch. He nodded, somehow managing to hush the baby within the first 45 seconds of holding her. You huffed, feeling slightly irritated at how he managed to finish what you were attempting to do for over an hour in only a minute. “You were rocking her…too fast,” he slurred, clearly tired as he attempted to hold his eyes open. You didn’t even realize that you had fallen asleep, attempting to reach for the baby before ultimately clocking out for the night.

You woke up feeling groggy, sluggish, and plagued by a small migraine. Both Anylah and Miles were nowhere to be found, feeling around for your phone only to grab a purple sticky note stuck to the back of your phone case.

‘Went back home.’

You sighed, shooting Miles a text immediately that let him know to not disappear like that with the doll. You got ready for school, taking a scalding hot shower and repeating your daily routine of thoroughly scrubbing and exfoliating your face. You threw on your uniform, prioritizing the aesthetic of your uniform as you tugged on some rather cutesy slouch socks. You skipped breakfast at home, opting to grab something from the cafeteria before slipping out the front door and facing the cold air once again. Damn, this day was bound to be long as hell.

You reached school, giggling at your phone down the street as you ‘bickered’ back and forth with Miles.

‘alr alr mb. I didnt think it thru.’

‘Fym you didn’t think it through? I thought I was finna fail’

‘u actin like sb baby mama rn.’

‘Ntm now’

‘my fault’

You powered off your phone, jamming the smooth plastic case into the deep pockets of your black shorts under your school skirt. Today you had a class on burping babies and how to properly dress them for the winter, eagerly anticipating the cute little coats they’d provide for your shared babydoll. You took your seat, silently doodling in your notebook until you heard the familiar cold tone fade into the classroom. “Qué quieres decir? Esta mi mamá del bebé es ahí mismo,” he chuckled, carrying both the baby bag in one hand and Anylah in the other. “Baby mama is craaazy…” the boy he was talking to muttered, looking utterly tired and vaguely annoyed.

He took his seat next to you, giving you an upward nod as he cradled Anylah in one arm while he mindlessly scrolled through his phone with the other. 

“Not you calling me your baby mother…”

"It's funny"

Tags ♡

@ashsostrangee @chessboxx @janaeby @faeriesoiree333 @fivestardior @an1bara @bachirasegoist @milesnanana77 @niaurluv @sp1derw1re @ban-al3x @we-loveebony @kae2kaee @dxrlingcc

[seresinhangmanjake]

Stolen Angel - part 2

Demon!Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. Brief smut 18+. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too.

Words: 1551

Part 1, Part 3

He moans so sweetly for such a strong, toned man. And it’s odd.

As he moves in and out of you, filling and stretching, his lips graze across one of your cheeks before he makes his way to the other, his nose nudging yours between those kisses. 

You try to meet his thrusts harder so you can get him to fuck you faster, but he plants a giant hand on your hipbone to hold you in place so he can continue at the pace he wants. It is not a pace you are used to, and certainly not one you expected, but you don’t hate it. 

Eventually, you succumb to it, you thrive in it, and when he flips you over and you sink down onto his cock, you keep it slow. You would like to think his hands on your waist are stopping you from increasing speed, but they just rest there, occasionally moving to your ass or breasts and gently squeezing. 

“Beautiful,” he sighs, eyes locked onto yours. “Absolutely beauti–”

You shoot up at the sound of knocking at the door, instantly groaning at the ache of your healing back. There is more healing to be done, but you’ve made rapid progress, and, to your dismay, you’re slowly starting to get used to the weight of the new appendages. You’d resisted accepting the wings at first, but after multiple mornings of waking to find them still attached to you, you gave up on the idea that any of this could be a dream.

There’s another knock. You have no idea why he bothers, seeing as he hadn’t bothered with politeness when he invaded your body with whatever drug he used to get you here. But then, true to character, he opens the door and walks right in despite your missing permission. 

The small tray in Jake’s hands is covered with an assortment of what appears to be familiar foods, but you’re no more certain that they are real than you are certain that the view outside of your window is real, or that he is real. There could be a monster under that handsome disguise. A fitting figure to match how he has treated you. His skin could be an unnatural color, bones twisted and mangled, teeth razor sharp, with eyes to compliment his misplaced soul. 

You hope you’re wrong. You hope you didn’t let a creature like that inside of you. 

As Jake nears, the blaze of his gaze over your body is unashamed and cuts into your skin like a heated knife. “Tell me you didn’t sleep in that again,” he says, disappointed.

You glance down at the dark brown smock cinched at your waist with a thin piece of rope; the first item of clothing given to you after your wings had finished growing.

“What happened to the nightgown?”

“It’s see-through," you huff.

“And?” he questions, setting the tray on the table beside your bed. “I’m the only one who will see you in it, and I’ve seen you in nothing at all, so what does the opacity of the fabric have to do with your not wearing it?”

“I don’t like it."

“So what did you do with it?”

Your eyes flick to the fireplace on the other side of the room, the fire long burnt out since its lighting the night before, and Jake’s head turns to follow. He sighs, clicks his tongue, and says, “I’ll bring you another.”

“I don’t want anoth—”

“You need to eat,” he interrupts, nudging the tray closer to you. “You haven’t in days.”

You get a better view of the fat, green grapes, and thin apple slices next to cubes of cheese and round plums. All foods you enjoy… coincidentally? No, suspiciously. You’re increasingly wary of the hints telling you that he knows so much about you.

“Not hungry,” you tell him, crossing your arms like a petulant child. 

“Yes you are, you little liar. I heard your stomach groaning from down the hall,” he replies with a slight smirk. “So, you’re going to eat whether you want to or not. I don’t need you getting any ideas about starving yourself until you’re skin and bones,” he says. “That’s not to say I wouldn’t still find you appealing, but I prefer the woman I love to be a touch livelier than that.”

Just when you think you’ve gotten over the last of the nausea, another wave rolls through you—you would rather be skin and bones than be anything that pleases him—but then the sickness is overpowered by a rush of gritty determination. 

“I don’t care what you like or prefer,” you spit back. “You want to dress me up and feed me as if you’re trying to play house, but I am not your girlfriend, I am not your wife, and I am not your toy. All you’ve done is kidnap me and put me through unbearable pain, so drop the bullshit.”

Jake’s fists are balled at his sides by the end of your words, face harshly contorted, eyebrows knitted, and the corners of his mouth tipping down. 

“You think I wanted you to hurt?” The low rumble of his voice shakes the walls. The vase of flowers on your other bedside table shatters. A small frame you’ve never noticed before falls from its hook and smashes to pieces on the stone flooring. “You think I enjoyed hearing your screams? I wish I could’ve taken it all away, but that's not possible!”

You stand sharply, sturdy despite the tremor of the floor, and try pushing him back, but he doesn’t budge this time. He’s like a brick wall, tall and six feet thick. 

“You could have left me alone!” Your fists slam into the rock-solid muscles of his arms and chest and shoulders; anywhere you can reach. “I’m not meant to be here! I don’t belong! I’m not supposed to be whatever the fuck you are, I'm supposed to be human!”

Jake snatches your wrists, presses them together, and wraps one large hand around both. Your eyes widen and wings fan out to keep you steady as you’re forced into a seated position on the mattress. The room descends into still silence, and with a tightening grip, Jake leans in until his nose nearly touches yours. 

“You are meant to be with me,” he growls. “You are my Angel, and you couldn’t return to your old life even if I released you. You are not human. This is your home now.”

You try your hardest to hold your position in the stare-off, but you're distracted by a bright red that begins to seep into the green of his eyes, like little tendrils slithering from the pupil and infecting the iris. It's barely noticeable, but it calls for you to back off, to stand down, and though you don’t want to, you have to look away. 

“I hate you,” you grumble.

Jake exhales heavily as he straightens to full height. “You will learn to love me,” he says. 

You look up to find all traces of that red gone. “How could I? Why would I even try?”

“Because I saved you from a miserable life in a useless world. Because no man could love you like I do,” he replies. “Because before you knew about any of this, you enjoyed having me in your bed.”

When he goes to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear with the hand not holding your wrists captive, you jerk your head to the side. “Bastard,” you mutter.

Jake chuckles dryly and releases you, but there is a warning in that chuckle, a threat in the way he frees your hands. You can feel it—how he wants you to understand that he will have no problem putting you in your place if you refuse to cooperate, but that for now, for reasons you’d be wise not to test, he's willing to be lenient.

“I don’t know what we are going to do about that rude mouth, Angel,” he says, crossing his arms. “I’m getting a bit sick of it.”

“Yea, well, then maybe you took the wrong girl.”

His lips pull into a closed-mouth grin as he stares down at you, almost in examination. After a few seconds, however, you realize it’s not examination, it’s adoration. He’s not scanning your face as if to memorize all of its fine details now that he has ample opportunity, he’s gazing appreciatively at what’s been previously memorized. As his eyes drink in your features, you’re starting to believe he could map them out in complete darkness if necessary; he could paint your portrait with no source of light. They follow the curl of your eyelashes, trace the bow of your lips, give attention to each faded freckle as if caressing a long-lost lover. 

“No, I didn’t,” is all he says before he turns and walks to the door. He pauses halfway through and points a finger at the tray of food. “Eat,” he demands. “And I want that attitude sorted out by the time I come back.”

Plucking a grape from the bunch, you hurl it his way as the door shuts behind him. You miss, of course. Because, somehow, he’s just a tad too quick. Somehow, he’s always one step ahead of you.

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @roosteraloha @b-bradshaw @fandom-life-12 @hookslove1592 @buckysteveloki-me

[hippielittlemetalhead]

Never Took The Time (To Forget) part 5: Man Of The Hour

Life is mildly less sucky with depression being more managed (also the mood boost from Renaissance Faires 😁) and my weekends being free again for me to travel to see my person. Still full of dumpster fires but I want to scream about it less. Also, been in feels very similar to the ones that inspired this whole endeavor so... enjoy?

Anywho, here's part 5! Enjoy, my little nerdlings. As always, feel free to yell at/with me in the comments, tags, reblogs and/or ask box. If you see any mistakes feel free to message me about them. 😬👌

Part 1: Hop Fucks Up, Part 2: Pride and Prejudices (Joyce Edition), Part 3: One of Us, Part 4.1: With A Capital P, Part 4.2: Robin's Boy

Steve Harrington was an odd duck. That's what his grandmother always used to say. She would pat his already proudly coiffed hair as he hung off the arm of her rocking chair and tell him as much whenever his parents took him to visit. He would beam at her with his big (reportedly pinchable by every aunt and grandmother in the family) cheeks and quack at her before cracking up at himself like he told the funniest joke and she would let him laugh until he rolled himself off her armchair to the plush carpeted floor. She would laugh and reach way over the arm of her chair to poke his stomach or cheek or nose, sometimes just his little forehead, before leveraging herself up out of her chair and taking herself to the kitchen to boot his mother out of it. Steve Harrington was a certified 'odd duck'.

Steve isn't sure, as he sits in that old rocking chair he had stolen liberated from his parent's house when he moved into his new apartment, when he became whatever he is now. He slowly rocks himself back and forth, the chair creaking a little as his weight shifts. The kids and other teens are chattering on the walkie but it's nothing too pressing, just nonsense and junk food emergencies, Mike cursing out Hop. His ribs hurt and his nose is sore but it doesn't feel like anything is broken. It sucks he knows what broken feels like. It sucks that Robin is kind of mad at him for getting hurt enough Owens pulled rank and had him dropped off at home and assigned someone to be the Party's chauffer for the rest of the day. It sucks that all the kids have their own plans tonight, leaving him to try and find ways to keep himself distracted without their usual insanity. A lot of things just kind of suck these days.

He feels himself smiling and picks up the walkie to confirm that he was alive and resting like ordered when he hears Dustin bickering with Robin about invading his apartment to check on him. That doesn't suck he supposes. He knows Robin and the kids care and he knows that eventually the soldier tasked with driving his hellions around is going to be bullied into driving them to see him, other plans be damned and the thought makes him smile.

The smile drops when he hears what sounds like a soft knock at his door. It's too sharp to be Widow Bea two doors over who leans on her walker and kicks the bottom of his door with her soft leather slippers that belonged to her late husband when she needs him to fix a cabinet or mix batter for whatever pastry she was making that week. And it's not the distinct pattern of Clara Damon from down the hall who will come and tap at his door to ask if he has an extra cup of sugar or spoonful of flour as she bats her eyes at him simpering about how she's making cookies or a pie or a casserole of some kind and inviting him to dinner with her and her folks to have some. He's always got an empty pantry and a surplus of plans when Clara Damon comes knocking. He and Widow Bea have standing poker nights with the other older ladies who all meet at the recreation building.

(It used to be the Harrington house. But his parents decided to sell to prove a point when they up and kicked him out and Owens needed a place to set up a promised recreation space and the gym was already a relief supplies warehouse.)

But the knock at his door isn't either of those. It could be someone else in the building. Could be one of his neighbors who have started to associate Steve Harrington with fighting mutated wild dogs caused by government experiments gone wrong and hauling around kids who seemed to cheat death and holding I.O.Us signed by the U.S army instead of the absent Harrington socialites who are known for swanning into town, flaunting their wealth and making themselves scarce again. The ones who he can sometimes hear whispering about him as he makes his way down the street or through Melvald's.

The knocking comes again, louder this time and firmer. It could be a lot of things and he doesn't want to deal with any of them.

Steve sighs, it could be important. He gets up to answer the door, breathing slow and shallow and letting himself lean on walls as he makes his way to the door. A third round of knocking and he's starting to get tired of it. He takes a slightly painful breathe to call out to whoever is trying to knock down his door to calm themselves down when, "Hey kid, Harrington, you in there?" That stops him a foot from his door.

His ribs hurt and his nose is sore and his leg is throbbing where a demodog got a lucky swipe on the meat of his thigh. But nothing is broken. His leg will be fine in a day or two. He hates that he knows what broken feels like. He hates that he knows what infected feels like. He hates that he knows the stone in his stomach and the clenching vice around his lungs has nothing to do with his injuries. His ribs scream at him when he pulls himself as tall and straight backed as he can, shifting himself so his weight is on his good leg and he can (hopefully) use the hallway wall and doorframe to support himself long enough to talk to Hopper and send him on his way.

He opens the door with a smile and feels himself falter a little when he sees Hopper standing there in a big tan canvas jacket and baseball cap and he's reminded of the times the older man would show up on his parent's doorstep with the same look on his face asking questions Steve didn't always know how to answer.

"Hey, Hopper." His voice is light and smile wide and loose and he just needs to keep this up. "What brings you to my neck of the woods?"

"Heard you got a bit banged up on a patrol?"

Steve shrugs. It takes more than he'd like to hide the pain that causes. "Just a couple bumps and bruises, nothing I can't walk off after a decent night's sleep. Owens is just paranoid these days, ya know."

"Owens huh?"

"Uh, yeah? That's who told you right? Cause I took a couple hits?" Hopper doesn't say anything, just looks at him with something that Steve might have once thought was concern about his potential injuries. He doesn't know why today of all days Hop decided to show up cause he got knocked around a little more than planned but it doesn't bode well when something in his face shifts and he lets out a tired sigh. "Oh, but don't worry!" That came out louder than he intended. "I'm totally fine. Like I said, I just need to walk it off and I'll be back out there in no time. You don't gotta worry about a thing, I've got it handled. Like I said, Owens is just overreacting. Nancy can cover for me tomorrow and then I'll be right back on the roster I promise. You and Mrs. Byers don't have to worry about a thi-"

"Steve. Shut up." He feels his jaw snap shut, the edge of his tongue and inside of his cheek getting caught in his teeth. "I didn't hear it from Owens. The kids told me. Owens knows you're hurt?"

"Uh, ye-yes sir. He's the one who sent me home. Gave the kids a detail to transport them and keep them protected while I'm out of commision. One officer to drive them around and they're being tailed by at least 3 others in case anything happens."

"Four soldiers just to replace you?"

"Oh they're not in that much danger! I'm perfectly capable of watching them usually, its just that Owen's guys are still kinda green even this deep in. Most of them just can't wrap their heads around the whole 'other dimension stuck in 1983' side of things." Hop's eyebrows shoot up under the bill of his cap. "But again, it's fine! I always take point whenever we go into a new sector and those guys are good as backup at least."

"But you're hurt." His eyebrows have come back down but now they're furrowed like he's confused or upset.

"Just a little!" He is not making things better. "I swear Hopper, you guys don't have to worry about a thing. I've got it handled, you don't have to-"

"Jesus fucking Christ, Harrington! Just shut up!" Steve flinches back, stepping further into his doorway as Hopper yells. The older man sighs, a big hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of his nose. He tries not to think of the times Robin and the kids have made fun of him for doing the same, calling it one of his 'dad poses'. "Look, I didn't come to try and give you shit about getting knocked around a little being stupid and playing soldier. I came to- I was going to ask." He sighs and his shoulders slump a little forward and his eyes are focused on the toes of Steve's (very comfortable) bat slippers that had been a gift from Wayne once the kids had told him Steve had been the one to drag Eddie out of the Upside Down. "Did you want to come over for dinner?"

Steve doesn't think he heard him right. "What?"

"Joyce is making some sort of spaghetti casserole-"

"Isn't that just baked spaghetti?"

"And we wanted to have you over. We haven't talked much since I came back. I'd like to change that."

"What?"

"You, dinner, at our place? With me and Joyce and the kids? I think Jonathan is bringing Nancy." Steve flinches and Hop silently curses himself bringing up the ex who cheated on him and the guy she cheated with.

"Why?"

"Uuh... Talking?"

Ah, he had it now. "What did the kids do? Just, lay it on me man, and I'll take care of it. Did they say something? I can have them over tomorrow and talk to them. Was it Mike, it was probably Mike, I'll get him to apologize, just-"

"Goddamn it Harrington I just wanted to ask you over for some dumbass spaghetti casserole thing and a decent conversation. Maybe watch a football game cause no one else in that house seems to enjoy a good game."

Steve isn't sure what's happening. "You want me to come to dinner. To talk?"

Hop sighs again. "Yes, kid. Just. Dinner and talking."

"Uh huh. Right. I'm just- I just need a minute." He tries not to slam the door in the man's face but he's definitely trying to be as fast as possible. He's not sure what the hell is going on but it has to be something because Hopper wouldn't just invite him over. And Joyce Byers definitely wouldn't want him in her house for something as simple as a talk and to watch football. It takes him longer than he'd like to reach the walkie on the little side table by his grandmother's rocking chair. His ribs are screaming at him and his elbow smarts from banging it on the corner as he turned into the sitting room.

"I need some sort of backup at my apartment. Like now please?!" He waits a second before pressing the speaker button again, "Over."

The walkie crackles and he hears an assortment of concerned chatter. "Steve?" Dustin's voice breaks through the general din. "What's the problem? Over."

"I- I'm not sure how to classify it? I've Got Hop at my front door but I think there's something wrong with him? Or something is trying to trick me it's him? Oh shit did I get Vecna'd??"

"Steve," Nancy snaps, shutting up most of the chatter and giving his rising panic something to focus on. "Why do you think it's not Hopper? Or that he's not in control of himself?"

"He- He invited me to the cottage for dinner?"

"What?"

"Yeah just dinner and talking? And that- that's weird right?"

Nancy sighs and Steve hears Hop say something from outside his apartment. He's running out of time. "Why is that so weird Steve?"

"Cause he doesn't like me. And Joyce really doesn't like me." He feels like that's obvious. "They don't like me and they're busy with other stuff. They wouldn't willingly ask me over for dinner and football or some shit so something has to be up."

"Seriously kid?"

He doesn't scream as he drops the walkie-talkie, spinning around to face the voice behind him.

"You're calling an emergency cause I invited you to dinner?"

Again, he feels like this is obvious. "Yes. I don't know what happened but we're going to fix it Hop, I promise. Or, like, if you're something controlling Hop or wearing his face or some shit I will figure it out and I will find the most painful way to kill you."

Hop runs a hand down his face again, he's going to have so many wrinkles after this. "Fucking Christ, kid. Is it so crazy that we wanted to try and get to know you? Make sure you're fed and taking care of yourself since apparently Owens isn't making sure you're alright?!"

What the fuck?

"Yes!" That seems to make Hop take a step back. "I tried for years to try and get the slightest acknowledgement from you! I've spent the last year taking care of the kids and monitoring the gates and fighting Powell and Owens every time they decide to try something stupid and almost get their men killed cause I realized you never meant it!" God he can hear his voice breaking and feel the tears starting to roll down his face. "You never meant it. But you meant it for El and Will and fuck, even Jonathan. And they deserved that. They needed you and you couldn't be there if you and Joyce were fighting with Owens and-" He can't hold back the sob that rips out from deep in his chest. "And I don't- I can't- I just-"

"Hey, hey kid. I need you to breath for me. Okay? Can you just let it out in one push and take a deep breathe in."

There's a large, warm hand rubbing up and down his back. His running nose is throbbing, his sore ribs are probably cracked now from how tightly he's folded in on himself and his injured leg feels wet like he pulled the stitches when he dropped to his knees on the threadbare rug. There's a deep rumbling voice talking to him, telling him how to breathe and asking him to sit up, let go of the walkie he can hear crackling as people call his name and ask Hopper what's going on. It's all just too much.

Why?

"What was that, kid?" Oh. He didn't mean to say that out loud.

"Why?"

"I fucked up. I'm trying this thing called owning up to my mistakes." Steve lets out a wet laugh that turns into a pained groan when it shakes his ribs. "Come on, let's get you up here." He tries not to cry out when Hop lifts him up from under his armpits, pulling at his ribs, but he knows he lets out a sharp whimper. "You fuck up your ribs?"

"What do you think?"

"Yeah, dumb question." Hop chuckles self-deprecatingly. "Look, let's get your ribs wrapped and we'll get you down to the hospital to get checked out an-"

"No. No hospital. Can't do 'em."

"Kid you need to get looked at and maybe some pain meds and antibiotics while you heal up."

"No fucking drugs." Steve practically growls, his teeth clenched and eyes burning as he stares up at Hop. "I'll take your fucking antibiotics but I can take a couple of ibuprofen and call it a day."

"A couple of- What the fuck, kid? You can barely walk and you're telling me you're not in serious pain?"

"I've had worse."

"Bullshit." The kid winces and the look on his face closes off. "Stop trying to be a hero and just admit you need help." Steve rolls his eyes.

"I'm fine, Hop. I've walked off worse."

"Again, I call bullshit."

"You know how thorough our Russian friends could be."

"What?"

Steve shrugs, an angry grimace on his face. "Once you live through Russian military questioning and hiking through Upside Down Hawkins, most everything after that's a piece of cake."

"Jesus Christ-"

"I don't think saying his name is gonna make him listen to ya now."

"Ya ain't cute, kid."

Steve gives him the same smile he always did whenever Hop crashed one of his 'King Steve' parties. "I'm adorable." He chuckles at himself and Hop finds himself laughing along at the kid's attitude. "What do you want, Hopper?" Steve's voice is quiet. It wavers in a way that tells him the kid is sad and hesitant and tired and Hopper can feel something niggling at the back of his mind. "You come over out of the blue asking me to dinner with your family like that's something we do. What the fuck man? What are you trying to do?"

"Like I said kid: I realized fucked up. Bad. And I'm trying to fix it."

"That's it?"

"Yeah. Yeah it is."

Steve leans back, the rocking chair leaning farther back than Hop feels comfortable with considering the kid's injuries but he manages to not rock back so far he falls. "Alright then. So what do you need?"

Hop can't follow this kid at all and he's not sure when that happened. If it's always been like that. "What are you talking about kid? You're the one that's all beat up." His mind goes back to swollen eyes and bruised knuckles covered in a rainbow of haphazardly placed bandages being fussed over by a group of dirty but uninjured kids. Bloody sailor uniforms rounding up rowdy kids without a mark on them despite obvious injuries and a slight limp and what might be bruised ribs. Bandages being removed to expose red raised around a strong neck that looks like someone took barbed wire to it and bulky bandages poking out from beneath stolen shirts. "What are you talking about what I need?"

Steve lolls his head to look at Hopper. For the first time all evening his eyes are trained on the older man unflinching and not anxiously darting away. His smile is more a resigned grimace. "What do you need to get Robin -and I'm guessing the kids- off your back?"

"It's not just because of them."

"But it is because of them."

"I want to make this right."

"It's not yours to fix, Hop. I've made peace with that. Thought I'd made that clear to the rest of them."

"I thought the kids didn't know."

"Not about you being my emergency contact and like, in charge of making big medical decisions if they couldn't get a hold of my parents. But that you'd stop by the house to make sure I hadn't like drowned washing my hair after I took a beating. That I put more stock in that than I should have."

"You were right to put stock in that stuff Steve. Fuck, if I knew anyone else in that situation I'd assume they'd basically adopted you. It makes sense."

Steve shrugs, wincing less this time. "That's life, can't fix it now."

"Will you let me try?"

"I mean. I'm giving you a get-out-of-jail-free card here man."

"And I'm not taking it."

"Well. It's there, whenever you decide to take it."

"Thanks but no thanks, kid."

"Hey, your choice Hop. Ever get tired of the boardwalk just say the word and it's yours. Do not pass 'Go!'. Do not collect $200."

"Monopoly, really?"

"My head may have gotten a knock too. Not a concussion but I'm a little... swimmy."

"Swimmy?"

"Uhm-hmm"

Hop chuckles, "You're an odd duck, kid, you know that? An odd, pain in my ass, duck."

Steve feels his face splitting in a wide smile that pulls at a small cut on his lip and lets his head fall back, his body finally starting to come down from the adrenaline rush that has been this entire interaction.

"Quack quack."

Tag list (I think this is everyone?)(If you see this post and your tag didn't work let me know cause they don't always work for me Idk why):

@thelittleclare @jackiemonroe5512 @0body0disphoria0 @strangersteddierthings @lingeringmirth @dead-cherry-bitch @irethsune @ink777 @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner @ledleaf @pansexuality-activated @paintsplatteredandimperfect @kinryuuki @yikes-a-bee @altocumulustranslucidus @ohimamarigold @samsoble @sensationalsunburst @xxbottlecapx @y4r3luv @swimmingbirdrunningrock @flustratedcas @rootbeerandmusic @vinteraltus @wonderland-girl143-blog @failedstarsandgoldenclouds @steddie-as-they-go @steveshairspray86 @youdrewstarsxaroundmyscars @i-amthepizzaman @wormapothacary @croatoan-like-its-hot @maya-custodios-dionach @ineffable-monster-romancer @asquareinverona @ellietheasexylibrarian @pukner @bookworm0690 @nightmareglitter @joekeerysmoles @salchica @lawrencebshoggoth @iheartjennaaa @child-of-cthulhu @anaibis @rocochen20 @katdeerly @samcoxramblings @fiore-della-valle

[aquaticmercy]

Blood Bound

Part 2 of Dark Necessities

Summary : You are blood bonded to Bucky. The problem? You don't know what a blood bond is.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x half-vampire!reader (she/her in mind)

Warnings/tags : Blood. Cursing. Sexual tension. Pleasure from a vampire bite (?). Brief mention of sex (not graphic). Violence.

Word count : 3.1k

Note : Reader is a daywalker like Blade. John Walker and Eric Brooks feature in this because I kinda tolerate John because I think he has potential to be a well-written character, and I loved the Blade comics as a kid. Enjoy!

Whatever manifested between you and Bucky after the feeding only grew stronger in the days that followed. 

It wasn’t just the bite, nor was it just the intoxicating power of his super-soldier blood; it was something more— it has to be. It was something that you could not identify yet— it was as if it unlocked something dormant.

You didn’t understand it. The only bond you knew of was the familiar bond— and that required Bucky drinking your blood, not the other way around.

You knew you should’ve read up more on the history of vampirism. Granted, your lack of knowledge at this point wasn’t entirely your fault— you hadn’t lived very long, at least not by vampire standards. You haven’t even lived through a human lifetime yet.

You had barely scratched the surface of the supernatural experience. Eric Brooks had told you to read thousands of ancient inscriptions, and you were even a quarter way there yet. 

Besides, maybe you were just overthinking it. Maybe this was just what it felt to feed on an enhanced being.

Of course, you had fed on people before Eric— Blade— found you. He had seen you as a feral teenage daywalker, reckless but full of potential. It had been different then. Human blood was good but not great, it just gave you sustenance. You’d always imagine you had to get used to blood the same way high school kids learned to like beer.

When Eric took you in, he gave you shelter. He gave you a home and proper training. He gave you bags of serum monthly— ones he developed as a blood replacement. He gave you scrolls to study, books to read.

He told you to never ever consume human blood, even if it means you would never be satisfied.

Well, you broke that rule.

It had been weeks now since you first fed on Bucky’s blood, and now you could feel him like a second pulse.

It started with small things. So small that it went unnoticed at first. You’d reach for a glass of water, only to have him pass it to you before you even realized you were thirsty. He’d appear beside you on missions, his arms raised to protect you the second you sensed an incoming attack. And his injuries—those bruises and cuts you’d tend to— left ghostly aches on your skin.

After the feeding, both your powers became something else entirely. 

Your already sharp reflexes were sharper, your speed more supernatural that it should be. Bucky noticed it too—he moved with more than super soldier agility, leaping over gates as if they weren’t there, dodging bullets with uncanny ease. 

It wasn’t just that. Your emotions flowed into each other in unexpected surges. 

When Bucky felt anger, a hot, restless fury built within you, too. When your mind was clouded by doubt or fear, he’d tense up beside you.

One evening, after a particularly grueling mission, you both stumbled back to your shared apartment. His shirt was ripped, exposing the bruises mottling his chest. He tried to ignore it, but he knew you felt it, too. 

“I need you,” he murmured, voice steady, almost begging. 

“Bucky, we can’t keep doing this,” You swallowed. “What if you get hurt?”

“I won’t,” he growled, fingers brushing over your cheek, voice thick with longing. “Don’t you feel it? I’m stronger, faster— I’m healing quicker than I ever have before. Whatever this is, it’s changing both of us.”

The words hung in the air. You’d felt it too, that surge of power, that electric hum that vibrated through your bones.

“What is this?” you whispered, not expecting an answer. “What is it doing to us?”

“Let’s find out,” he said, his voice a dark, thrilling promise as he leaned in, the heat of his breath grazing your skin.

You hesitated, a pang of guilt tugging at your heartstrings. “Maybe we should ask Eric. He’s dealt with this daywalker thing longer—he might understand—”

There was a glint of frustration in his gaze. “And have him tell you to stop feeding off me? To go back to starving, until you waste away?” His hand cupped your face, pulling you closer. “His serum isn’t working anymore. Cow blood isn’t working. You need this. And I’m not about to let you go through hell to satisfy someone else’s rules.”

You felt your guard slipping, his words and the heat in his eyes breaking down your last defences. He was offering himself to fill the void inside you. And you couldn’t deny him any longer.

Before you knew it, his lips were on yours, fierce and demanding, his hands gripping your waist as he pulled you onto his lap.

Slowly, you let your fangs graze his skin, a soft, tantalizing scrape that drew a low groan from his throat. His hands tightened around you. With a gentle press, you sank your fangs in.

The first taste of his blood hit you like a shockwave, the way it did the first time. He flooded your senses in a dizzying head rush. He tasted so intoxicating that it left you gasping.

You felt his pulse in your mouth, steady and strong.

“Fuck…” he groaned, his voice rough, almost pleading. “Don’t stop.”

His words were a spark to the fire inside you. His blood was like a drug. You couldn’t talk where you ended and he began.

His hands roamed over your back, fingers tracing every curve, pressing you closer as if he couldn’t bear any distance between you. The way he held you, the way he breathed your name—it was like he was offering every part of himself to you

When you finally pulled back, Bucky’s eyes were heavy-lidded. He reached up, brushing his thumb over your lips, smearing the faint trace of his own blood as he gazed at you, his hazy eyes a mixture of wonder and desire.

“I’m yours,” he whispered, his voice a low growl.

Without thinking, you pressed your lips to the mark you’d left, your tongue flicking over the wound as he shivered. You could feel his pulse slowing, his heartbeat returning to a steady rhythm as the euphoria settled over him. He looked almost dazed, a lazy, satisfied smile on his lips as he gazed up at you.

“You really think Eric would understand?” he murmured, his voice soft but tinged with a dark humour.

You laughed softly, brushing your fingers through his hair. “He wouldn’t,” you savoured the warmth beneath your hands. “And I don’t care. This… this is ours.”

He let out a low, satisfied hum, his hand sliding down to rest on your thigh, his thumb tracing slow circles that sent a shiver up your spine. 

The feeding continued, more frequently, and you both realised the connection you felt went beyond survival in battle.

The first time you felt each other’s pleasure in bed, it hit you both like a wave, powerful and dizzying, sweeping through you so intensely that you weren’t sure where your body ended and his began. His pleasure sparked in your core, racing along your nerves like electricity, feeding back into him, and then doubling again within you. The feeling grew in an endless loop.

Every gasp, every moan became a shared experience, each sensation reverberating between you in dizzying echoes. His touch, as he moved within you, left you quivering; his breath against your neck seemed to burn, intensifying every rush of desire until you could barely breathe.

It was all-consuming.

And then, once, you’d fed from him in the midst of it, your lips against his neck as his pulse thundered beneath your mouth. The second your teeth broke skin, a flood of his essence surged through you, a rush so potent, so intoxicating, you nearly lost yourself in it. 

It was more than pleasure; it was pure, unfathomable ecstasy, a high that pulled both of you into an untethered oblivion.

Afterward, both of you lay tangled together, limbs intertwined. It was as though pieces of yourselves had fused. It was the most intense connection you’d ever felt, something neither of you could put into words. Even if you could, it would never do it justice. 

In the silences you shared, you knew that no other pleasure could ever compare to what you shared.

—

The mist hung thick around the old Hydra outpost, cloaking it in a damp chill that seeped into your skin, even with your heightened senses. The place reeked of decay and rot. A vampire nest thrived in the old base— newly turned vampires hiding from the world, growing stronger, more feral with each night that passed.

They killed people. They turned people.

You, Bucky, Eric Brooks, and John Walker were there to wipe them out before they could spread their sickness further.

Eric took point, his silhouette sharp in the mist as he motioned for you and Bucky to fan out around him.

“Close ranks.” His voice was barely a whisper. “No one goes in solo."

You nodded, knowing better than to push against his authority. 

John, off to the side, gave Bucky a wry look. "Better keep up, Barnes.”

You could smell the faintest whiff of fear from John—though he’d never admit it. 

You moved forward, sinking deeper into the ruins, stopped by cracked concrete walls that loomed like tombstones.

Your eyes met Bucky’s. 

As you scaled the wall together, Bucky’s fingers brushing the concrete just behind yours.

John huffed below, struggling to keep up. His irritation crackled in the air as he muttered, “I thought we were both supersoldiers.”

“You’re getting slow, Walker,” Bucky said, his voice a low rasp, though he didn’t look down.

Once at the top, you peered down into the yard below. The stench hit you—stale human blood, mould, the faint copper tang of vampire blood. You all dropped down with a quiet thud, though John was louder than you’d like him to be. 

“Left flank,” Eric instructed, motioning toward the entrance, his eyes never leaving yours. You nodded, gripping the hilt of your knife, feeling its hunger.

Bucky moved beside you, ready, his presence as familiar as your own heartbeat. John and Eric fanned out to the right, slipping into the murky depths of the compound with grim determination.

The first vampire appeared just as you and Bucky reached the door, its eyes blazing red in the dim light. It had time to hiss, but not to scream. You launched yourself at it, your knife slicing through. 

A second figure lunged at Bucky, but before it could touch him, you were there, your blade found the vampire’s heart.

Bucky grinned, a wild, reckless glimmer in his eyes. “You didn’t have to do that.”

You shrugged wordlessly, almost casually.

Inside the base, the halls were narrow and cold, every corner shrouded in shadows. Bloodstains smeared the walls, and the smell of decay lingered thickly in the air. You moved quickly, every step calculated, every breath measured. The vampires were emerging in hoards now, drawn by the scent of fresh blood and the thrill of a fight. They came at you in waves—fangs bared, claws extended, feral eyes blazing.

One raked its nails across your shoulder, tearing into muscle. You winced, and Bucky’s eyes snapped to you, feeling the sharp pain sear through him, too. He yanked it off, his fist connecting with its jaw with a brutal crack. You pivoted, driving your knife through its chest, twisting until you felt the resistance give way.

John staggered past, panting as he took down a vampire, his face slick with sweat. He cast a sidelong glance at you and Bucky, frustration etched deep into his scowl. “How are you both running circles around us?”

“Stay focused, Walker,” Eric barked, but you could tell he’d heard John. He’d noticed how your movements mirrored Bucky’s, how you flinched when he did, even how you were breathing in time with each other. Eric’s gaze lingered too long, as if he was convincing himself something he didn’t want to believe.

“You’ve been off the blood serum for a while,” Blade murmured suddenly, his voice low and directed at you. “What have you been feeding on, kid?”

“Animal blood” you said quietly, keeping your gaze neutral, slashing down another vampire with ease.

Eric’s knuckle tightened, and you knew he didn’t believe you. He’d taught you everything you knew, raised you like a sister. And here you were, deceiving him with half-truths.

Before he could respond, another wave of vampires rushed you from the darkness, cutting the conversation short. 

Blade fought beside you, taking in every detail of the fight, every flinch, every glance you shared with Bucky.

“If you’re feeding on something else, you need to tell me.” He stepped closer, beheading a bloodsucker without even looking at it. “Now.”

You wanted to tell him, to explain the connection you shared with Bucky, and asked if he knew what the hell was going on, but the words caught in your throat. 

The fear of his disapproval held you back. He had warned you so many times against crossing that line, of giving into the hunger that all vampires struggled to control. And yet… Bucky had been different. 

You shoved Eric back, drawing his attention to the fight. “Save it for later,” you said, your voice clipped. “We’ve got company.”

You turned, facing down the horde with Bucky at your side, the two of you tearing through the vampires with an intensity that bordered on frenzy. Each kill was swift— brutal. Your knife left trails of gore in your wake, while Bucky’s fists shattered skulls with merciless precision.

At one point, you felt the burn of a blade slicing across your forearm, a deep, ragged cut that sent a surge of pain up your arm. But before you could react, Bucky flinched beside you, clutching his own arm as if he’d been wounded too. 

His gaze shifted back and forth between you and him. He moved in close, his voice barely a whisper as he muttered, “This isn’t normal.”

You didn’t answer, couldn’t answer. You didn’t know what was happening.

The final vampire fell, its scream echoing down the blood-stained halls. The four of you stood in the aftermath, panting, bruised, and blood-soaked. The air was thick with the scent of the undead.

Eric’s gaze shifted to Bucky. “This shouldn’t be possible,” he muttered, almost to himself. “A blood bonded daywalker…”

Your heart hammered in your chest. You didn’t know what a blood bond was, never even heard of it. But the way Eric said it made your heart skip a beat.

Eric’s gaze softened for a brief moment, a shadow of pity flickering across his face. “If this is what I think it is…”

Eric didn’t press any further, but as you moved toward the exit, his words lingered in your mind, haunting and unshakeable. Whatever had happened between you and Bucky, you didn’t know.

And maybe, deep down, you didn’t want to.

—

As the four of you trudged out of the Hydra base, John caught up next to Bucky with a skeptical glance. His breath hung in clouds around them in the night air, but he ignored the cold, eyes narrowed on Bucky’s calm, steady pace.

"Alright, Barnes," he muttered, keeping his voice low so you and Eric wouldn’t hear. "You gonna tell me what the hell’s going on? Did you get a new serum or something?"

Bucky raised an eyebrow. "What are you talking about?"

"Don’t play dumb,” John snapped, frustration creeping into his tone. “I’m not blind. You’re faster. Stronger. You and..." He glanced in your direction before lowering his voice even more. "You both are."

Bucky shrugged, “Guess I’ve been working out,” he replied coolly, brushing John off with the kind of indifference that only seemed to make him angrier.

“That’s not funny.” John’s frustration was barely concealed.

For a moment, Bucky’s eyes flicked toward you, watching as you spoke quietly with Eric up ahead. 

“I told you, Walker,” he brushed off, “maybe you’re just getting slow.

—

The safe house was dark and quiet, a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. 

You barely had time to breathe before Bucky’s hand wrapped around your arm. He guided you into the bathroom, shutting the door.

Bucky’s lifted you to sit on the edge of the sink, his eyes taking in the blood on your shoulder, concern flickering across his face. 

The cut wasn’t closing as quickly as he’d like it to, your shoulder throbbing faintly— so did his. 

“Let me see it,” he said, voice low but intense, as he reached for the hem of your shirt. You started to protest, but he was insistently stubborn.

“It’s nothing,” you murmured, but even you could hear the strain in your voice. 

Without another word, he took off your tactical gear, the cool air brushing over the cut on your back. His eyes darted over the wound. 

Then, without hesitation, he pulled off his own shirt. “You know it’ll help you heal faster,” he whispered, his lips ghosting over yours before he tilted his head, offering his neck to you.

Your lips met his, almost desperate. You were satisfying a hunger as he pulled you closer, his hand tangling in your hair, your nails grazing his skin as you wrapped your legs around his waist. 

Then, slowly, you angled his neck.

You could hear his heartbeat, strong and steady, as you pressed soft, lingering kisses on his skin. 

Finally, you bit down.

A euphoric thrill coursed through you as his blood flowed into your mouth, filling you with a euphoric sensation that spread through every nerve, igniting something primal within both of you.

Bucky’s hands gripped your waist, pulling you closer. His breaths came faster as he tilted his head back, a low, almost pleading sound escaping him. Each swallow of his blood was a pleasure so vast it felt spiritual. His fingers tangled in your hair, nails digging into your skin.

The moment was so intense that neither of you heard the door creak open.

“What the fuck…” John’s voice was harsh and full of shock.

You jerked back, catching John’s wide eyes. He took in the scene— your mouth still stained with Bucky’s blood, his arm around your waist. His confusion morphed into anger. “Are you… drinking his blood?”

Eric was right behind him, his rage thunderous. For a moment, he looked between you and Bucky, piecing it together with a calm that was worse than John’s horror. 

“This is what you call animal blood,” Eric said in a quiet accusation.

You glanced at Bucky, whose face had gone rigid. He didn’t pull away from you, his hand still resting protectively on your waist.

“I… I can explain,” you started, but even you weren’t sure what to say.

Eric’s gaze shifted from you to Bucky, a flicker of recognition in his eyes that turned grim. He muttered under his breath, “do you have any idea what you’ve done?”

-to be continued(?)

shall I make a part 3 or turn it into a series?

[holylulusworld]

Kinktober vs Flufftober 2023

Like in 2019, 2020, 2021 & 2022, I will post a kinky, fluffy, angsty or scary one-shot from October 1st till October 31st, 2023.

Please consider none of the stories are available until the set release date. Titles may change (all titles are working titles until the release date.). The release date may change at any time.

ANGST/SMUT/FLUFF

October 1st: Forbidden Lust (2) sequel to Forbidden Lust

Pairing: Stepdad!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Kink: Homewrecker kink

Requested by: @jayyyyyyy-stuff

October 2nd: Rekindle

Pairing: Chubby!Thor Odinson x Exgirlfriend!Reader

Trope: Reunion

October 3rd: Very tight places sequel to Cramped & Tight places

Pairing: Soulless!Sam x fem!Reader

Kink: Claustrophilia

October 4th: Footloose

Pairing: Loki Laufeyson x fem!Reader

Trope: Enemies to lovers

October 5th: Serve your Soldier

Pairing: Soldier Boy x fem!Reader

Kink: Collars

October 6th: Falling leaves

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Trope: Sunny vs grumpy

October 7th: Blaze of glory

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Kink: Glad-to-Be-Alive Sex/Victory sex

October 8th: Two Bikes (1)

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader; Biker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Trope: Angst

October 9th: Golden Retriever

Pairing: Jake Jensen x Reader

Kink: Crops / Spanking

Idea by: anon

October 10th: One autumn night

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader

Trope: a/b/o

Idea by: anon

October 11th: I'm the best

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Kink: Breeding kink

Idea by: anon

October 12th: Breathless sequel to Take my breath away

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Trope: Secret crush

October 13th: One Summer night

Pairing: Cultleader!Thor Odinson

Kink: Sex Cult

October 14th: Snuggle time

Pairing: Lee Bodecker x Plussized!Reader

Trope: Cuddling & snuggling

Idea by: anon

October 15th: The cabin in the woods

Pairing: Winter Soldier x fem!Reader

Kink/Trope: Choking

October 16th: Not in my car

Pairing: Sam Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Love confessions

Requested by: @dawn-petrichor-world

October 17th: Backpack

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader

Kink: Thigh riding

Idea by: @dawn-petrichor-world

October 18th: Sex you up

Pairing: Henry Cavill x Chubby!Reader

Kink: Size kink

Idea by: @sultryfandoms

October 19th: Fulfilment

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Pregnancy

Idea by: @elle14-blog1

October 20th: Triad (1)

Pairing: Omega!Stucky x Alpha!Reader

Kink: Dom / Sub

Idea by: anon

October 21st: Autumnal love

Pairing: Thor Odinson x fem!Reader

Trope: Carving pumpkins

Idea by: anon

October 22nd: Unwanted Mate (Bucky's version)

Pairing: Alpha!Stucky x Omega!Reader

Kink: Threesome

October 23rd: Rescue you

Pairing: Jax Teller x fem!Reader

Trope: Rescue romance

Idea by: @dawn-petrichor-world

October 24th: Right there

Pairing: Soldier Boy x Reader

Kink: Pegging

Idea by: @flory-alexandra

October 25th: Deepest love

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Friends to lovers

Idea by: @elle14-blog1

October 26th: Demon knife

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!Reader

Trope: Friends to enemies

October 27th: Sunrise sequel to Beyond the soldier & After the eclipse

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Kink/Trope: Quirofilia/Nursed Back to Health

Requested by: @clarinette07

October 28th: Naughty School Adventures (1)

Pairing: Janitor!Sam Winchester x Teacher!Reader x Gymteacher!Dean Winchester

Kink: Cucking

Idea by: @moosekateer13

October 29th: Unwanted Mate (Steve's version)

Pairing: Alpha!Steve x Omega!Reader

Trope: Unrequited feelings

October 30th: Taped on video

Pairing: J3 x fem!Reader

Kink: BDSM

Requested by @moosekateer13

Halloween Specials: ANGST/SMUT/HORROR

October 31st: The past always catches up

Pairing: Winter Soldier x former Hydra!(fem) Reader

Trope: Villain Reader

October 31st: Dreams of sharp teeth

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x fem!Reader x Werewolf!August Walker

Trope: Monster AU

Find all other Bingos and Special Events here: Special Events

[contentment-of-cats]

Head canon for little Chiss

1: Chiss babies comparative to an adult sized (average 6'4") are very small, and labor is very short. A six-hour labor is considered long, four hours is about average.

2: A Chiss neonate can't regulate their body temperature and needs to put on thermogenic fat. They will nurse almost constantly for their first six months, usually in a sling that holds them close to their mother. Milk-packs are often employed when Mom needs a break.

3: Chiss babies are fat and almost round if they are healthy. The thermogenic fat is packed on during their first year of life. They look like a blueberry. They become more independent between the ages of two and three.

4: At about the age of three, Chiss toddlers develop 'meat teeth.' This makes regular teething look like a tea party. Teething toys and gum rubs are common. Teething centers are popular with parents who are at the end of their tethers.

5:The first premolars and cuspids are replaced by the meat teeth. The adult central and lateral incisors are also extremely sharp and the central incisors will have an almost chisel-like appearance.

6: Adult Chiss have scent glands on their neck and chest, not obvious to the eye. Chiss to about age five will snuffle these spots to be calmed and comforted.

7: About the age of five, little Chiss start learning to use the halves of their brain independently. It's considered a major milestone in child development. This is also the age at which Sky-walkers are taken from their families.

8: Chiss will never refuse to feed a child or a parent with children or an elder. It is considered dishonorable.

9: The Chiss birthrate is low, but they have stipends for each child, extensive parental leave, nutrition vouchers, and free childcare whether the child is from a Common, Lesser, Great, or Ruling family. A woman who has three children gets a stipend for life. A woman from the Lesser and Common families who has five children often is adopted into a higher ranked family as a ranking distant along with her family unit. Any more children and she gets medals and honor chains.

10: Though modern deaths in childbirth are low, a woman who dies as the result of childbirth is given the same funeral as someone of the highest rank. She will have a place of honor in the ossuary, an honor chain and medal, while her surviving family is given a pension.

[daydreamingmia]

ROADTRIP PART 2

Walker Scobell X Reader | Series | You Belong With Me🔱 Part 4

When you drive in the first thing you see is Buffalo. You take a couple pics and post them.

"Are you guys hungry?" Your mom asks

"YEESSSS!" everyone says in unison

"Alright look at the map and tell me what you wanna eat.

We decided on restaurant and drove there. Whe got a booth. I sat next to Walker and Leena sat next to me.

"I think I'm gonna have the fried chicken. What are you gonna have?" Walker asks me looking up from the menu at you

"Mac & Cheese" You said with a smile that Walker knew exactly what you were talking about

"Kraft Mac & Cheese if your parents don't buy it stop loving them" you recited

"Oh my God" Walker said rolling his eyes looking back down at his menu

When you leave the restaurant everyone is full. You go to your cabin and flop on the couch.

"I might explode" You groan

"Me too" Walker says as he lays down on the floor next to you. Making it kinda look like a crime scene.

"Oh no Walker's stupidity kill them both!" Lenna walks in with a smile

"Not yet!" You reply slightly lifting your head and putting it back down.

"Hey!" He said fake offended

-

Later that night everyone goes to the cabins campfire (I don't know if that is a thing. But pretend it it).

Everyone was making smores around the fire.

"Where is Walker?" You ask

"Boo!" Walker silently came up behind you and yelled in your ear. You scream and turn to see Walker laughing

"Walker! You almost made me drop my smore!" You yelled as you hit his shoulder.

He sat down next to you and made his own smore.

"Let's tell scary stories!" Walker said excited

"Noooo! I don't wanna have nightmares!" You complain

"Don't be chicken!" He reply and starts the story not listening to you.

"Years ago, a pack of ravenous wolves roamed these very woods, their eyes glowing fiercely in the moonlight. They were led by a massive alpha, whose howl could be heard for miles around. One night, a group of campers, much like them, set up camp in the same spot. Little did they know that they were being watched by the pack of wolves, their hunger growing with each passing minute. As the campers slept, the wolves attacked, their sharp teeth tearing through flesh and bone. The screams of the campers echoed through the woods, a haunting reminder of the horrors that lurked beneath the trees. To this day, it is said that the wolves still roam the woods, searching for prey. And on nights when the moon is full, their howls can still be heard, sending a shiver down the spines of anyone who dares to venture into their territory."

You hear a wolf howl and your eyes widen. You get closer to Walker.

"Alright let's go inside" Leena said seeing you were scared.

You looked at her with "Thank you!" Eyes and she nodded and smiled

Everyone got up and went inside to get ready for bed. You finished and went and sat on your bed and watched TV.

Your pajamas ⬆️

You were sharing a room with your sister and Leena. Walker across the hall.

Your sister was already asleep when Leena walked in.

"I thought you'd be asleep already." Leena said

"Not a hug fan on going to sleep right now." You said talking about the story

"Walker is annoying." she said

"Yeah" you nodded

"What are we watching?" she said hopping on your bed

"You don't have to stay up with me. I'll be fine." You said appreciating what she was trying to do

"You're my best friend and my stupid brother scared you. It is my duty to stay awake with you." She smiled

"What do you wanna watch?" You smiled

"Thor The Dark World!" She replied

You put it on with a smile and gave her the popcorn you had.

"Hey I know her!" Leena pointed to you on the screen

You both laughed

-

After about 2 hours you and Leena fell asleep.

You woke up in a sweat after dreaming about the wolves. You were scared. Leena said wake her up if she falls asleep and you have a nightmare. But you couldn't do that to her. There was someone who deserved being woken up. You got out of bed and Walker over to Walker's room. You knocked but there was no answer you slowly open the door and see Walker dead asleep.

"Walker!" You whisper yelled

Nothing

"Walker!" You said a little louder shaking him

"What?!" he groaned

"I had a nightmare" You pouted

"What about?" he asked still kinda out of it

"Your wolf story" you replied

"I'm sorry." He said actually compassionate "I didn't mean to scare you that much."

"Can I stay in here with you for a while?" You ask

"Yeah. Yeah. Of course." He said moving over

You laid down next to him and he hugged you. It was very comforting. He may be annoying sometimes but you knew he would protect you and would always be there if you needed him.

-

The next morning you woke up and saw it was 9 am.

"Walker" you said over your shoulder

"Hmm" He replied

"It's 9"

"So?"

"I'm hungry"

"Fine" He said letting go of you

You go to your room and change out of your pajamas.

Your outfit ⬆️ (you can change these outfits if you want)

You went to the kitchen where everyone is eating breakfast. Your mom made everyone French toast. It was delicious. After breakfast we all got in the van. We went to see Old Faithful which was beautiful then we went to the gift shop.

Do you like this?" Walker asked showing you a sweatshirt

The sweater Walker showed you⬆️

"Oooo! I love it! Why?" You asked

"No reason" He said casually and walking away

You look around and buy a few things. We all went back to the thevan and sat in our seats.

"Here" Walker said handing you a bag

You open the bag and see the sweatshirt that he showed you earlier

"Oh my gosh! Walker you didn't have to do that!" You said smiling holding it up looking at it

"Yes I did! It's repayment for scaring you last night." He replied happy you liked it

"Thank you!!" You said hugging him

"Of course!" He replied

You put it on as everyone drove back to the cabin.

-

You were reading on the couch and Walker was on his phone when your mom walked in the room

"Kids come look outside! It's snowing!" Your mom said

You and Walker both raced to the window to see blankets if white covering everything

"Oh my gosh it's so pretty!" You said admiring it's beauty

"Race you outside! Walker said running to the door and putting on his jacket.

You ran after him and put on your jacket and boots as fast as you could

"Walker?" You said stepping outside not seeing him anywhere. Then a snowball hit you right in the face.

"Bullseye!" He laughed

You guys had a snowball fight for at least 29 minutes then went back inside. Soaked. Especially Walker.

"I won!" You said with a smile

"Yeah right. I won!" Walker rolled his eyes

"Right Walker. Whatever you have to tell yourself." You said putting your hand on his shoulder

"You know what you're right..." He said clearly up to something

"I think the winner should get a hug" He said as you started running

"No! I wet enough as it is" You ran as fast as you could for about 2 minutes but you knew he was going to catch you eventually.

"Fine! You won! Happy?" You said turning around with your hands up

"Very" He said with a smile

-

We were now driving back home.

"It's so pretty here" Walker said looking out the window. You took a picture of him and posted it.

Then Taylor texted you

"I'm invited to the Grammys!" You exclaimed

"That's awesome! Congratulations!" Walker said hugging you

"Omg! That's amazing! Congratulations y/n!" Leena said very happy for you

"Thank you! I'm so excited!" You said smiling

-

When you got home it was midnight so you invited Walker and Leena to spend the night.

"That's sounds amazing! I'm so tired." Lenna said so happy

Leena would sleep in your room and Walker in the guest room.

"So, I got an email from my fashion designer and she gave me a couple options for the Grammys. Which one do you think I should pick?" You asked showing her your phone

"I think...that one" she said pointing to the one on the left

Your dress for the Grammys ⬆️

"That one it is!" You said emailing your fashion designer (Alexandria)

-

Couple days later

You were so excited!

[rj-anderson]

It's quite a thing to adjust to being back on eldercare duty 9-12 hours a day, every day [1], which is pretty close to how my life was five years ago right before my dad's needs became so overwhelming that we had to transfer him to a nursing home. [2]

Except my dad's weaknesses were mostly physical — mentally he was quite sharp for a nearly 95-year-old — and back then my mom was well enough to keep him company, do the cleaning and laundry, and make meals for him so I could focus on managing his home care (and all the phone calls and paperwork that involved), helping him in and out of bed for naps, and wheeling him to and from the washroom as needed. Even if it was a lot of work, I wasn't doing ALL the work, and I could go for a walk in the woods or run a few errands without worrying (much) that Bad Things would happen in my absence. My mom, though, is physically in decent shape for 92, apart from her Meniere's Disease (aka chronic vertigo). But over the past year she's been increasingly losing her executive function and ability to retain recent memories. She's starting to leave her essential items like hearing aids and glasses in odd places around the house, and getting distressed when she can't find them.

Most tasks that used to be routine for Mom are beyond her now, and even writing down the steps for her doesn't help. She either forgets to look at the instructions, or she's too confused to follow them. Even answering the phone is a challenge these days, because if she can't hear the caller right away (which she usually can't, despite the volume enhancement) she starts pressing buttons at random and hangs up on them more often than not.

So for the past three months I've been running downstairs every hour or two all day to give my mom her medications, make her lunch and dinner, do her laundry, take her for her daily walk, answer her phone, turn on the TV for her, shepherd her through her nightly bedtime routine, and reassure her when she's worried about something she can't remember. It takes up a big chunk of every day in addition to my own family and church responsibilities (neither of which I want to give up or think I should). And that's assuming Mom doesn't have one of her out-of-the-blue excruciating nerve pain attacks, a fairly new development which involves a whole other level of care and leave us both exhausted for a day or more afterward. [3]

But the hardest part is that I can't leave the house now, even for a short time, without hiring a professional caregiver or recruiting a family member to take my place. My mom no longer remembers how to phone me in a crisis, and is unable to take any of her needed vertigo or pain medications on her own. If someone isn't right there to help, Bad Things will most definitely happen at some point, and more likely sooner than later.

Worse, I have no sisters, only brothers, all of whom live hours away. And as my Mom's need for care becomes increasingly specialized and personal, they're less and less equipped -- or suitable, from a woman's point of view -- to help her for more than a few hours at a time. And if Mom has one of her out-of-the-blue pain attacks, they aren't trained to give her the injection she needs. [4] So they'd have to give her oral meds and watch her suffer for 30-45 minutes before the pills kick in — and having gone through that myself several times now, I wouldn't wish the experience on my worst enemy. Or put my Mom through that much pain again, if I can help it.

But she's not in pain, or sick with vertigo, all the time. In fact, she can go for days or weeks without an attack. She's able to move about freely with her walker, chat with visiting helpers and family, stroke our two cats and enjoy looking out the back window at our yard. She looks forward to the meals I make for her and exclaims over how tasty and nourishing they are. She's lived in my basement for 20 years now, so everything is familiar and comforting. And right now, she's as safe here as she could be anywhere. The idea of transferring her to a care home even if there was a bed available (which there isn't — the waiting list in this area is 3-5 years for 24-hour nursing care and 10 years for assisted living) just doesn't seem to make sense, or be anything but cruel to her. And while there are some places that offer overnight respite care for up to a week, they only do that for clients enrolled in their adult day programs — which my mom can't attend because of her complex and unpredictable symptoms.

So I don't know when I'll ever get another vacation. I certainly can't take any overnight trips, or even day trips, right now. Unless I hire a registered nurse to stay with Mom the whole time I'm gone, and pay her hundreds of dollars to do it.

I don't really know why I'm writing this, except to get it off my chest. I love my Mom and I want to do my best for her. I'm thankful that despite her physical and mental health issues she is a loving, grateful and overall very obliging person to care for. She thanks and praises me for everything I do to help her, and apologizes for taking up so much of my time. I know she never wanted to put me in this position any more than I want to be in it.

But it's hard. It's really, really hard. And I wish I knew how long this is going to go on.

-- [1] Not counting the occasional calls in the middle of the night, which I hope will be fewer now that I've moved the call bell to keep my mom from knocking it by accident.

[2] Dad passed in early 2020, just before the pandemic. I'm still thanking God daily for that timing because I can't even imagine what it would have been like trying to visit him in lockdown.

[3] We've been to the hospital and our family doctor multiple times about this. Nobody can figure out why it's happening or how to stop it. We're supposed to get a CT scan at some point, which I hope will give us some more answers, but that could be weeks or months away.

[4] I myself was only trained a few days ago, and without any medical background or experience, I'm far from confident about it. Not even sure how well it's going to work, but something has to.

[outofboundsarchives]

virgin charlie walker has me in a chokehold

OH MY GOD. This one completely got away from me and turned into just absolute filth. Thank you for the inspo Anon!

(As always my requests are open. I do both sexes, any gender, with any Rory Culkin characters)

/Fem reader/

•Charlie wouldn't say he was a virgin by choice. There was just a lack of desire to lose it. He didn't see the point in pursuing someone just for sex so he left it at that.

•Don't get him wrong, that didn't mean he doesn't want to. He was horny all the damn time. But he sort of got used to it, being pent up all day and then jerking off until he came 2-3 times that night.

•He never sought anyone out for their sex appeal. He didn't care what anyone really looked like in the porn he watched or looked at anyone with lust or need.

•Until you.

•It was one of those unpredictably hot autumn days. The ones where the mornings are so cold you can feel it in your bones, but the afternoons are sticky, and you want to peel your skin off.

•You knew it was going to get humid when you excitedly dug your favorite knit sweater out from your closet, but you couldn't resist. Halloween was so close, and you were ready for that fun, cozy feeling.

•But as the day crept on, you regretted your decision. By the time you made it to after school cinema club (one of the few classrooms without AC) you couldn't take it anymore and decided since school was over, there was no harm in you just wearing a tank top.

•You felt the instant relief of chills over your sweaty skin. You felt like you had been suffocating all day and could finally breathe. You let out a satisfied sigh through your nose and continued to listen to Robbie talk about finale girl syndrome or whatever he was on about.

•But Charlie felt anything but relief, his hands twitched as they gripped the edge of the teachers desk he leaned against. He crossed one leg in front of the other, his cock growing hard against his jeans as he stood in front of his peers. Your cleavage on full display as you rested your chest against the table.

•He couldn't focus, his mind overcome with images of your nipple rolling between his pointer finger and thumb. He imagined the sharp gasp you'd take before he pressed your soft tits together and slide his lubed cock between them.

•He thought about how hot your skin would feel, how your mouth would drop open as he came across your chest, smearing his dick against your breasts while beads of cum dripped down you.

•It didn't take long for him to become obsessed with you. Following you around, using every excuse to talk to you. Watching you get ready for bed.

•With your constant interaction, eventually, you two developed a friendship, and before you knew it, you fell hard for the outgoing nerd. Little by little, you tried making your attraction for him obvious, but he never reciprocated.

•One night, you decided to invite him over for a movie night. It was just before Halloween, and you were tired of dropping hints that he wasn't picking up.

•Charlie of course, said yes, jumping at the opportunity to watch his favorite horror movies. The fact that it was with the girl he couldn't stop fantasizing about made it all the better.

•You had seen Stab a million times, but you were still captivated by Charlie's excitement and little facts he'd spew.

•But you were starting to get restless. You weren't even at the halfway point before you decided to place your hand on his upper thigh. You could feel his body tense next to yours, but you kept going when he didn't push your hand away.

•As your palm brushed over his clothed groin, you feel his dick pulse, already painfully hard against your hand.

•"A-ahh fuck..." He whispered as his eyes closed and his head fell against the back of the couch. You watch as his palms open and squeeze shut, desperately trying to keep himself from thrusting up into your hand.

•"You're so hard, Charlie," you say in a mocking tone, teasing him as you continue to touch him. His hips squirm beneath your grasp, needy for more friction.

•"Yeah, yeah I...fuck I'm sorry," He groans before pulling his plush bottom lip between his teeth. You giggle at his apology, soaking in his reaction.

•"Would you like some help?" You ask with a smirk. Charlie is only able to look at you with a slightly confused look before you're leaning over his lap, pulling at his belt before opening the front of his jeans.

•You hear him take a deep breath as his cock pushes against his underwear, the tip turning the light gray fabric a darker hue. You pull back the waist band to reveal his leaking tip. Before he has time to even process what you're doing, your lips are wrapping around him.

•Charlie jolts with a choked breath. He didn't expect your mouth to feel so warm. His hands instantly pull your hair out of your face so he can watch as you sink down his shaft, taking him deeper and deeper.

•His hips lift off the couch slightly to meet the back of your throat before he mutters a quick "sorry" and tries to keep his body still.

•His chest falls quickly with each breath he takes, your cheeks hollowing out around him as your tongue pushes against the bottom of his cock. He looks down at you with fascination as he watches you move up and down.

•Charlie let's out a stuttered groan as he feels your tongue swirl around his head before you take him deeper into your throat again.

•"f-fuck!" He moans through clenched teeth. His free hand runs through his own hair, gripping at his scalp tightly. He wished he wasn't so sensitive, wished he had more experience, so that familiar knot in his stomach wasn't approaching as fast, but it was.

•His hips start to push into your mouth again, his tip hitting the back of your throat and then some. You slowed the bobbing of your neck as he pushed past your lips. He chases the rhythm you created and starts to thrust a bit quicker.

•Both of his hands slide through your hair as he holds your head in place as he fucks himself into your mouth.

•He tilts his head, watching as your lips slide up and down his cock, your tits almost spilling out of your shirt as they squish against his thigh. The sight drives him insane, his breath quickening as he feels his release.

•"Wait...wait hold on i...stop I don't wanna cum yet," He struggles as he tries to pull your head away but you don't budge. You take him deeper, your throat convulsing as you swallow around him and he's done for.

•His body rocks forward, his hands grapsing your head as he thrusts up into your mouth and spills down your throat. Your nails dig into his denim covered thighs as you take every last drop.

•You sit up again, wiping the droll from your lips and chin as you look at his flushed face.

•"Shit I'm sorry I, it all happened so fast," He huffs as he looks at you apologetically.

•"It's okay Charlie, most guys don't last that long, or even for more than one round," you try to reassure. Suddenly, his hands are on your shoulders, and he's pushing your back into the couch and crawling between your spreads legs.

•"I-I can go another round...i.. just, you gotta give me a minute," He says a little out of breath. You chuckle at his enthusiasm.

•His eyes wander down your body. He uses one hand to hold himself up while the other starts to grope your covered breast.

•"I-is this okay?" He asks quietly, as if being too direct will scare you away.

•You bite your lip and smile at his cautiousness. "You can do more than that if you want,"

•The second those words leave your mouth, Charlie hooks his finger into the front of your low collared shirt and pulls it down, taking the front of your bra with it until you spill out over the top. His hand immediately grabs your breast, squishing it in his hand as he leans down and takes the other into his mouth.

•He moans louder than you at the sensation. You're softer than he could have ever imagined, his tongue lapping at your perked nipple.

•You can already feel that he's hard again, his hips rocking his exposed cock against the rough fabric of your shorts.

•His fingers grab and squeeze your tits as his tongue rolls around your nipple. Your body arches up into his as the feeling shoots straight to your core.

•"I need you baby...want you to fuck me so bad," You moan in his ear. His movements come to a stop as he looks up at you, spit coating his pink lips.

•"i-ive never uh..."

•He's too embarrassed to say it. His body almost delates at the idea of you being turned off and calling it quits from his lack of experience. He seems genuinely confused when you shake your head and smile.

•"I didn't ask that Charlie, I said I want you to fuck me," You almost command as you reach down, pulling your shorts off of one leg. Charlie's eyes quickly drift down to your soaking panties before letting out a soft breath.

•He sits up until he's on his knees between your thighs. He pushes his hair back from his face as he watches you push the fabric down your thighs. His eyes are latched onto your dripping cunt as he reaches forward to help you take them off.

•"You can touch me Charlie, you don't have to be so scared,"

•His eyes drift up towards yours before going back down to the task in front of him. He scoots down the couch until he's almost on his stomach, his face between your knees.

•You feel Charlie's hands on the back of your thighs where they meet your ass before his thumbs slide against your slit, pulling your lips open. The sensation causes you to squirm so he does it again, his digits sliding against your labia, spreading you open and observing your most sensitive area before you feel his breath against your clit. You take in a shuddering breath before the tip of his tongue gently licks against you.

•Instant waves of pleasure wash over your body, and you let out a small yelp. Charlie looks back up at you before leaning forward and doing it again, this time applying more pressure. Your body sinks into the couch as your legs spread more.

•He takes this as a good sign and pushes his faces fully against you, his tongue lapping up and down your pussy. You hear him groan as his eyes flutter closed, the taste of you melting across his tongue.

•Charlie wasn't stupid. He had watched plenty of porn and knew what giving head was. He had just never experienced it. You didn't taste like strawberries or flowers like those shitty romance movies would say. You tasted like you, and that made him want more.

•Your hand quickly tangled in his hair, pulling his face up just a little higher as he swirled his tongue around you. He was eating you like a man starved, all those weeks of jerking off to the thought of you finally coming to fruition.

•He moved his hands from spreading you open to wrapping around your thighs and pulling you against his face. With this new leverage he pulled your hips onto his knees, your cunt angled toward his face before he dipped his tongue lower.

•"OH! Fuck," you whine as you bite your lip, not expecting this level of aggression.

•He just wanted to taste more of you but bumped his nose against your clit. You gasped before letting out a strained moan so he did it again, and again. His tongue burying itself inside you, fucking your entrance as he moved his face back and forth, his nose grinding against you.

•Your legs tensed, and you started to shake as praises and begs fell from your lips. You let out a loud whimper as he pulled his face away.

•His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath. He ignored your cries as he pulled you more into his lap.

•Your knees were bent and pushed towards your chest as he drug his fingers up a down your slit.

•"Taste so fucking good baby, fuck" He groaned as your juices dripped from his chin. His eyes were half lidded as he looked at you, a thick blush spreading across his face and ears. He pushed his fingers against your entrance, sliding his two middle fingers in at once. You yelped in surprise and cried out his name.

•"Is that good baby?" He asked, concerned by your sudden reaction. Once you chuckled and nodded, he started to pump his fingers in and out.

•"Could have you fuck my face all day, wanna taste this all the fucking time," He rambled before pressing his tongue against you again.

•Your body was almost convusling at this point, his tongue mixing with the curve of his fingers quickly bringing you to orgasm.

•"Please Charlie, please I'm gonna cum!" You whimper and he keeps his pace steady as he brings you over the edge.

•H-holy shit I, I can feel it," He says mostly to himself as you cry out and clench around him. Your cum soaks his hand and starts to drip down your bent torso. Charlie removes his fingers before burying his face in you again.

•"ah! I-its too much!" You moan as you grab his hair but he doesn't relent. His tongue laps at you as he savors the taste of your cum. You can feel his hard cock pressing into your lower back

•Cum and saliva connect strands from your pussy to his face as he pulls back again. He hugs your hips with his arms as he looks down at you.

•"W-was that okay?" He asks a little nervously.

•"Never had head like that before..." You pant. You both breathe heavily for a moment as you catch your breath, but Charlie's dick is still pressing into you, and you chuckle. "Do you think you're up for another round yet?" You ask as you bite your lip again.

•He pushes his hair out of his face as he looks down at you. "It's okay, we don't have to if- I mean if you don't want to that's okay i"

•You wiggle your hips until his cock presses against your ass. "I wouldn't ask if I wasn't okay," You reassure.

•He takes a breath before his eyes fall to his lap. He grabs your legs a little tighter as he sits up, pushing his tip between your thighs and against your clit. You gasp at the sensation before he pulls back and rolls his hips forward again, savoring the feeling of the slick heat between your legs.

•"Oh god...fuck you're so warm...can I put it in? Please...please let me put it in. " He inhales through clenched teeth.

•"Charlie please.." You whine before he pulls back again. He presses the back of your thighs against his chest and puts your legs over his shoulder before slowly sinking into you. His mouth drops open, and he whimpers, the feeling of him stretching your walls almost too much to handle.

•"Fuck...so good feels so good..." He hisses as he pulls out and pushes forward again.

•He's not scream queen massive, but he's decently sized and thicker than most. Your thighs tremble as you feel him push deeper and deeper until he finally bottoms out. He lets out a low moan and stays still for a moment, savoring the feeling.

•You clench around him, your body adjusting to the stretch as his eyes slowly open as he looks down at you. His gaze is half lidded, and his lips are parted as he releases a shuddering breath.

•He pulls back, letting his head almost slip from your cunt before sinking back in again. You both moan at the feeling as he repeats his actions. His head rests against your calf before he kisses and bites your leg.

•"Charlie!" You inhale sharply. His hands spread your legs before he pushes his body down against yours, the new angle shifting him deeper. You cry out before wrapping your arms around his shoulders and fisting your hands in his hair.

•His hips slam against yours and your legs twitch. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his fluffy hair tickling your face, and he whimpers. The sound long and drawn out.

•His arms snake between your back and the cushion before holding you tight to his chest and starts to hammer into you.

•"Fuck!" You gasp as the wet sounds of skin hitting skin full your tiny living room.

•"it's okay, you're okay, baby...you feel so good, so good for me," He whines as he hugs you tighter.

•"Charlie...Charlie you can slow down," You try to breathe, but his grip feels suffocating.

•"Mine...you're all mine, no one else's." He rambles as his lips latch onto your neck. "So perfect, so soft," He groans as he thrusts.

•Charlie was getting lost in the feeling of you. His head was fuzzy like he wasn't all there.

•That day from cinema club plays in his mind. He was distracted that whole hour, wondering what it would feel like to take your breast in his mouth and hear you whimper as he bit down on your nipple. You got caught up talking to one of your friends and forgot your sweater on the desk. He told Robbie he would catch up with him later, that he needed to do a few things first.

•He bit his cuticles until they bled, until he couldn't hear the sounds of foot steps and fading chatter anymore. He fought with himself, told himself he was disgusting for what he was going to do, but he did it anyway. He walked over, grabbing the sweater and leaned against the desk again. He paused for a moment before bringing the fabric up to his face, inhaling deeply as his other hand made quick work of his belt. He grabbed his aching cock tightly as he started to stroke it.

•The pent up energy from having a raging hard on and the smell of your perfume and the image of your perfect tits pushed up on the desk had him spill his seed onto the soft fabric. The gratification was gone instantly after he realized the mess he had made. That night, he took your sweater home and washed it, making sure to take good care of it before it had a chance to stain. He would never forget that smell.

•That smell that engulfed every fiber of his being as he nuzzled against your neck and pounded into you mercilessly.

•You could feel his muscles shaking as he held his weight above you. His breathing started to become uneven and small whines fell from his lips. His behavior was almost animalistic.

•He shifted his weight to one arm as his hand slid between your sweating bodies, his thumb sliding between your folds and rubbing circles around your clit.

•"ah!" You yelp as your hands twist in his hair. You hear him whimper against you before his teeth sink into your shoulder causing you to cry out again.

•He would bite and suck on your shoulder before swirling his tongue around the wounded area and repeating the action over and over.

•The feeling became unbearable, and you pull his hair hard until he lifts his head. His mouth hung open as he moaned lewdly, his eyes screwed shut at the feeling.

•"You're close again...i-i can feel it," He whines before his tongue swipes across his bottom lip. "Please, please cum on me....wanna feel you cum,"

•He leans his head down, taking your nipple between his teeth and swirling his tongue over the nub. Every touch, every sensation was like a pull in your stomach.

•His thumb swipes over you a few more times before your muscles tighten, and you feel the snap.

•You clench around him as you cum, letting out strained moans as he continues to pound into you. You body goes slightly limp against the couch but he doesn't stop.

•"Charlie.." You huff as you try to take in a full breath.

•"I-i know, I know," He whines as he presses his face against your neck again. "So close baby, please,"

•His arms slip under your back again as he hugs you against him and slams into you. Your arms wrap around his neck, and your nails dig into his back, and suddenly he stops.

•His moan is almost like a sob, his legs trembling and cock twitching as heat explodes in your stomach. His body thrusts forward slightly as he pumps you full of cum, his grip almost crushing as he fills you up.

•You both lay there for a moment, panting and trying to gather yourselves before he slowly sits up. He grabs the base of his cock and watches as he slides out of you.

•As your walls try to clench around him, you feel his cum drip out of you. You watch as he stares at your used hole before he reaches forward swipes his finger up your slit and pushes his cum back into you.

•"S-stop its...it's too much," You groan as you try to close your legs. He pulls his hand away but keeps your legs spread open.

•"Sorry, You just look so good," He smiles as a thick blush creeps across his face again.

•His eyes never leave your body, completely taken with how red your pussy became from his abuse, the urge to kiss and lick your sensitive areas overtaking him.

•"Can we do it again?"

Aaahhhh sorry for any mistakes and for how long it took to post. As always requests are open for any Rory Culking characters!