#and it somehow turns out perfectly orange

[dorianthedoll]

ryo dyeing his gi orange

[cherriesnpapaya]

Fashion Killer - LN

In which Mr Norris is left speechless over a sundress.

Warnings: NSFW - smut. unprotected sex, oral (both male and female receiving / giving), friends with benefits, soft dom!lando,

Lan <3 - are you coming to the race?

Miami Grand Prix. In which the men on the grid couldn’t get away from models. Families definitely weren’t invited to this exhilarating mess of a weekend.

On my way sweet cheeks, please find me the coldest drink you can. - sent

Lando couldn’t care less what model they had behind him, trying to seem interested in the sport. He was watching her walk to the paddock in that ridiculously perfect sundress.

Loose, hung perfectly over her american doll legs. The cream of the linen light and only complimented by her brunette hair curled to perfection on her sides. He could practically feel how soft the stands felt as his hands gripped his bottle.

The tan she sported a crude reminder of her skimpy attire she had been living in whilst they lounged around the villa the last few days. He got them the quiet space, filled it with his friends to distract everyone and then revelled in her presence.

Bright smile on her cheeks as she waved for the cameras. Max Fewtrell by her side as they came to join Norris after supporting Fewtrell with his racing activities.

“How are you dressed in that.” She groaned, slipping onto a stool next to him. Lando had to peel his eyes off her legs before he ditched the car to catch a ride instead.

“My job, honey.” He chuckled, holding out his bottle for her. Bad idea.

He watched her lips wrap around the straw. He’s taken back to when he was teaching her how to use the bottles, and somehow ended up with a blowjob.

Final calls were being made to start the pre race media, so Lando stood up and opened his arms for his friends to fall into them.

“Go get em tiger.” She chuckled, the bottle handed back to him with the deep pink stain of her lipstick around the top of it. God how Lando wished to be a straw.

He certainly got them, coming first place for the first time in his career. He dripped with sweat, and some water he’s poured over his face, gleaming ear to ear. His tan still deep golden next to his orange suit.

The celebrations were never ending. From the crowd, his team, other garages and of course his fellow drivers. They poured into his villa, music and drinks flowing freely. The hum of chatter with the occasional cheer as the winner would join conversations. He worked his way round, trying to find the girl he’s been thinking about every second of the day.

“Thought I’d lost you.” He made her jump, slipping into her room. She turned from her position in front of the mirror, earrings in hand.

“I was just going to change.”

“But you look fit.” He could help but speak his mind. The filter between them had been lost about 6 shags ago.

“Have caught you staring a few times.”

“Oh no, punish me for my crimes please.”

He sneered, falling back onto the plush white bed. She rolled her eyes, placing the earrings down. The carpet muffled her steps, letting her slip between his open legs quietly.

“Aren’t you meant to be celebrating?” She teased, arms crossed as he peaked a look at her:

“I am, what’s my prize?” He hummed, sitting up to place his hands on the back of her thighs. Cheeky eyes gazed up at her, watching as her lip caught between her teeth. His thumbs worked circles into the soft skin. She didn’t know if she was desperate, but it felt like they slowly moved inwards.

The music vibrated through the floor, which she was quick to notice when she dropped to her knees. Lando couldn’t help the smirk taken over him, quickly removing anything in the way. He propped back on elbows as she finally took him into her hands.

Profanities rough from his throat as she took him down hers, tongue tracing the vein down the side of him. Bobbing her head, tongue piercing running over his top just how he liked. He throbbed, excitement having built up all day. She hummed, smirking when his head would fall back from watching her.

“Shit baby c’mere.” He ran a hand over her jaw, pushing her off his stained cock. He had the stamina for races in incredible heats, but she knew just how to ruin a man. He slipped off his tshirt in a blink, hands back glued to her hips as he pulled her to straddle his legs.

When she moved to slip her dress off, he caught her wrists, pushing them behind her back to drop them there. Her insides giddy with the move, grinding down slowly on his crotch.

“No chance. You’ve been teasing me with this all day.” He spoke against her neck, leaving sloppy kisses and sucks on any exposed skin. She didn’t even notice his fingers lingering over her panties, moving them to the side.

“Lando.” She whined, arms now hooked around his neck. He kneaded her arse, hips, tits as he sunk into her slowly. Her head rolled, moans covered up by the sounds of some asap song underneath them.

He could barely speak, weak moans fell from his open mouth as she took more control. Moving up and down at her own speed, occasionally rolling her hips to get him to hit that one spot.

She gasped, eyes shut as she rolled continuously into the same spot. Lando knew the tightness, he knew what it meant for you to get close.

“Just like that pretty girl.” He cooed, fingers brushing slowly over her clit in an aggravating manor. A string of swear words left the previously painted lips as she rolled, now mixing between rutting against his fingers and his cock.

Thank god for the loud music as she came for the first time that night, her body spasms into his as the rocking comes to an end.

“You good?” He checked, hands playing with the hem of her dress.

“So good.” Practically drooling, Lando chuckled at the cock drunk girl slumped into him. He attached his lips to hers, lifting her up to swap them around. Her legs rested over the end of the bed, not having a chance to even prop herself up before Lando licked a stripe through her folds.

It was a guilty pleasure of Lando’s, enjoying her body’s reactions to the way he rolled his tongue over her bud. Her legs wrapped around his head, before spreading again as she ran her fingers through his curls. She moaned out as Lando spat into her opening, the smile on his lips almost pushed her over the edge itself. And there she came, for a second time.

“You’re so gorgeous.” He complimented, overwhelmed by the look of her on the bed currently. Fucked out, face flushed and smiling. Hair sprawled out over the mattress, looking like a goddess. It made him harder to just look.

“Fuck me Lando.” She pulled him back in, heel digging into this back causing him to practically fall forward. He pretended to be shocked, moving her ankles to hang over her shoulders as he got right back to it.

“So fucking tight.” He hissed, fucking in and out of her and she swore he was in her stomach. He knew he was nearly fucked out, her nails digging into his stomach hinted the feeling was mutual.

Before he could pull out, he was pushing the warmth into her further. Moaning out probably a bit too loud, stilling completely as they both caught their breaths. Once he had pulled out, he was helping her clean up, pulling the dress back down to sit perfectly again.

“Wear that dress for me again sometime.”

“That’s a boyfriend privilege Norris.”

——————

Thank you for reading! New to the scene, so send any prompts/inspo over. I hope to write lots more for ya ;)

[dilfsfordinner]

a/n- i might have severe baby fever, idk.

pairing- husband toji x fem!reader

——————————————————————————

Contrary to his name literally meaning “blessing”, Megumi was nothing short of a curse during bath time. He absolutely hated it, and he made it his tiny life’s mission to make sure his parents dreaded it as well.

“Megs, please just.. work with me here,” Toji pleaded, exhaustion brewing inside of him, his hands desperately trying to keep the squirming child before him tame.

You’d gone to run some errands, leaving Toji to attempt bath time alone, his previous confidence shriveling into nothingness the second he heard little Megumi cry as soon as he was dunked into the warm water. At three months old, he was the perfect child, quiet and happy, tame in every aspect of life, a fact that seemed to be nothing but false when Toji was the one left in charge of watching him.

Toji didn’t even think it possible for something to cry as much as Megumi did without passing out, but he had been proven wrong before, the wriggling thing in his hands wailing his heart out to try and convince his dad to let him out. “I’m sorry baby, but you did this to yourself,” he huffed, gently rubbing bubbles along his son’s belly, tiny feet kicking water up at him, Megumi clearly trying to escape the horror of his nightly bath.

You see, Toji would feel bad for his baby had he not been the cause for the bath in the first place, the mashed carrots he had for dinner ending up smeared down his face and front, far from the target of his mouth. Said carrots began to fade away from the whimpering Megumi’s skin, turning the water into a soapy orange. His little body fit perfectly in Toji’s large hands, the newborn scrunch still apparent as baby Megs’ legs squished up to his belly in a useless attempt at kicking his dad’s fingers away.

The crying problem only escalated as soon as Toji introduced a washcloth into the picture, Megumi squealing, kicking and writhing with so much force, he might as well have been a full-grown adult.

Without your seemingly ‘all-knowing’ insight when it came to parenting, Toji rushed to find his own solution, grabbing a used bottle of soap that appeared to be extremely bubbly, hurriedly pumping out the liquid into the water filled basin, praying that the mysterious substance would somehow, someway, quell the curse possessing his son.

It was almost as if Megumi was hypnotized or something, because the instant the familiar smell of his mother hit his nose, his screaming cries died down to nothing but little babbles, coos leaving him in a low, comfortable purr. You see, it wasn’t just any old soap bottle. No, it was the soap you had used to bathe Megs the night after you’d come home from the hospital after giving birth. Toji remembered just how surreal and peaceful the night was, so he could understand why the familiar scent would coax his baby into a severe bout of relaxation.

Finally quitting his incessant wriggling, Megumi relaxed in Toji’s hold, the smell of the soap slowly coaxing him into a sleepy state, his little nose wrinkling and eyelids occasionally fluttering open and closed. Toji hadn't noticed before but his tiny fingers began to wrap around his pinky finger, holding onto it in a playful manner.

“hm-” Toji hummed, finally understanding the cause of his son’s untamable mood. “You just miss mama, huh?” he murmured, gentle as he picked up a sponge, running the soft material along the cooing baby’s chest and belly, sudsing up his little body, taking advantage of the sleepy mood that seemed to come over the boy.

“Yeah.. me too,” was all Toji could think to say, honestly relating to the fit his son had thrown over missing his mother, Toji feeling the same way but without the screaming and crying to show it. Finishing his gentle cleansing, Toji leaned down to press a kiss on the sleepy Megumi’s forehead. "Let’s get you to bed," he whispered, hand cupping some water to rinse him with before he gently lifted him to his chest, head resting against his shoulder.

It was a breeze the rest of the night, Toji falling victim to sleep as well, he and Megumi alike in a sense that they both enjoyed resting more than anything. The couch was the chosen spot, Toji lying shirtless against the large piece of furniture, Megumi’s blue, fuzzy onesie warm against his chest as they dozed off, a large hand resting against the tiny baby’s back, holding him safe and sound even while unconscious.

He couldn’t explain it, but being alone with his child, his baby, kindled a feeling of comfortability, of pure contentment, in his chest, he knew that no matter how untamable or stubborn or confusing Megumi could be at times, he would always be his son, his little curse of a blessing.

——————————————————————————

[charismaofobedience]

ranking the milgram characters by how they'd hold babies if their bouquets were actual babies

MAHIRU SHIINA — 10/10 MOTHER MATERIAL

Solid and overall perfect stance. If we ignore the slightly bunched back, she's perfectly holding both the lower part of the baby and the upper part by giving legs and back/head support, protecting them and having a solid hold on the kid in a way there's no chance the baby would fall unless she's really distracted. Congrats mappi

YUNO KASHIKI — 9/10 UM GUYS UM

Thank god this young lady has no kids! Overall Yuno's hold is very solid. She isn't giving full protection on the upper part of the body but by her hold the baby would be fully resting upon her own body in a way they'd only fall if they make some parkour to roll out of her grasp and fall into his back. Contrary to mappi she's not shielding the baby so they'll probably see amazing things like jackalope and the walls of milgram and the other prisoners.

SHIDOU KIRISAKI — 9/10 SOLID FIRST TIME DAD HOLD

This is the baby hold of a man who just saw their children being born and is now holding them for the first time. You can see he knows the basics like holding the legs and resting their body into your arms but there's way too little protection in their back when compared to yuno who can give the baby uppies so they don't fall. Shidous isn't as much of a "hold" as much as it is a "there's a baby resting in my arms" and that's okay!

MIKOTO KAYANO — 7/10 SILLY UNCLE

Not a parent hold as much as it is an uncle hold! They're not exactly holding the baby properly but they're probably keeping support to the kid by holding them by the legs and making them rest the upper body against his own which again quite dangerous but it's okay because this dude isn't the parent as much as he is those uncle's that would give insanely annoying toys as gifts for the children to annoy their parents

KAZUI MUKUHARA — 4/10 KID GRASP

he's literally just grasping the kid by their back as if they're a sack of oranges this is great. Either that or the kid is just hanging to him by grasping his shirt and fighting for it's life as he holds their back against him. Bad hold but not horrible I wouldn't trust him with a child but it's okay. Almost passable grade.

FUUTA KAJIYAMA — 2/10 POTATO SACK

This guy is holding this baby as if they're a potato sack. As if he'll just hit someone up with this baby. The baby is at least FULLY leaning into the shoulders as we can see so it means they won't immediately fall and someone can save them but the way he's grasping the baby's legs is worrisome. That's a potential trip to the hospital. Do not trust fuuta kajiyama with your babies he will turn them into gamers

MUU KUSUNOKI — 1/10 PEEKABOO

Why are you hiding the poor baby from its parents. this kid is probably keeling over to the front and will soon fall into his head but for now they're safe because they're at least leaning upwards. This is probably some workout because holding a baby like this would be painful as shit the shoulders would be sore. Bee/10

HARUKA SAKURAI — 0/10 HE HAD TO DO IT TO EM

We can excuse Haruka because if I was in his shoes I too would probably hold a kid by doing the i had to do it to em pose. Upside down. This kid will immediately fall into his head and get some good injuries the moment his hold on their legs slips and the baby falls. Haruka Sakurai can play with babies but both should be on the floor, do not let him pick them up.

KOTOKO YUZURIHA — -1/10 LIFTING

Like harukas but with one hand. Somehow more dangerous because as we can see this baby is actively attempting to walk away and is therefore not only more likely to slip because of that, but because Kotoko is holding them with one hand only. this baby will fall directly into their mouth and start crying for hours on end because kotoko couldn't even give the kid both of her hands to hold them.

AMANE MOMOSE — FLOOR/10

floor

[fastandcarlos]

Late Night Drives : ̗̀➛ Logan Sargeant

summary: with logan home, you decide to head off on an adventure, allowing the man behind the wheel to lead the way

A smile graces Logan’s face as you make yourself comfortable in the seat beside him, a blanket draped over your body. Despite you insisting that you were warm enough, he still watched you closely, wanting to be absolutely certain that the chill in their air wasn’t disturbing you too much.

A faint chuckle escaped as Logan began to rev the engine of his car, it was nothing compared to the engines that Logan started on his day job, but he still liked to impress you. He could feel your eyes watching him closely, leaning across and pressing a kiss against the side of your head as you rested your head further into the headrest of Logan’s car, admiring the view of him concentrating on what was ahead.

Around your car the sun was starting to set, the stunning shade of orange set the scene for you both perfectly. After a lazy day, you both craved the feeling of fresh air hitting against your body, and so when Logan suggested the two of you head out for a drive for a while, you found yourself unable to say no. Happy to play passenger princess whilst Logan took control of the wheel.

He wasn’t expecting you to agree to his offer, you were sleepy, surprising really when you hadn’t done much, but Logan somehow seemed to sweet talk you. Undeniably, you would agree to do anything as long as it meant that you got to enjoy Logan’s company for a little while longer, unable to bring yourself to separate from him for even a second.

“It’s not fair how one person can look so effortlessly beautiful,” Logan complimented, turning his eyes back to the road ahead of you.

“Don’t start being all adorable now,” you laughed, jabbing your fingertip against his arm, “you’ve been mean to me all day.”

A sigh came from Logan, “are you still bitter about the pancakes?”

“You ate my pancakes, that’s an unforgivable act.”

Logan could only shake his head at your dramatics, whilst he knew you were only joking, admittedly he did feel slightly guilty for stealing your food, and mostly getting a huge satisfaction from enjoying the meal he found on the counter top of the kitchen too.

“In my defence, you just left them there, so I just assumed they were for me.”

“Oh, I see…it’s my fault?! Well, forgive me for leaving my food unattended whilst I go to the toilet,” you cried out, rolling your eyes back at Logan. He was about to put his foot down on the accelerator, only to stop himself.

“Exactly,” Logan plays along, looking at you as if it’s obvious that this has been your fault all along. “You should know by now that when you live with me, the second there’s food around, it’s mine,” he added, chuckling away to himself, feeling your eyes burning a hole against the side of your head.

Once his laughter subsided, Logan reached across and rested his hand against the top of your thigh, squeezing it gently. You were as bad as each other, but you could never stay at mad at him, how could you when he smiled so beautifully across at you?

Together you were well known for your bickering, squabbling like children, but always making up. The feeling of Logan kissing against your cheek was enough for you to know that he was just messing with you, and that he was ready to get going and head off to wherever it was that you wanted to go.

You both put your seatbelts on, Logan winding the window down slightly to let in some fresh air, your fingers pressing play on the car radio before setting off down the road.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

You weren’t quite sure how long the two of you had been travelling for, but when the car finally came to a stop, a smile crept onto your face as you looked out to realise that Logan had stopped you both by the beach.

“It’s the second-best view I’ve had today,” Logan spoke as he watched the way your eyes narrowed, taking in the beautiful sight before you. Your head shook as you listened to him, glancing in his direction momentarily before taking in the beauty of the beach again.

You take a moment to shuffle in your seat, waking your body back up again. Your hand comes out from underneath the blanket, reaching across and taking Logan’s hand off of the steering wheel and intertwining it in with your own.

His hand is cold, thanks to the cool breeze that came through the window. Summer hadn’t quite arrived yet, but that didn’t stop him from wearing a thin shirt, knowing you always loved to admire the way the material gripped to the muscles on his body.

It was all comfortable between you, you wore smiles, relaxed, and made the most of being able to spend time together.

With the sunset behind you, Logan’s breath was taken away by the view beside him. His heart was racing, his mind still wondering how he ever managed to get so lucky, even after so many years together.

Logan was lost for a moment, until he met your eyes. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you whispered back to him, leaning across and peppering a kiss against his slightly chapped lips.

Outside of your car, the beach was still pretty busy. There were young families running around, dogs chasing anything they could find in the sand, waves smacking against the shoreline. Down by the water you could see a small gap in the sand, there was a dip where someone else must have been sat previously, a gap that looked like it was the perfect size for you and Logan to fit in and spend a bit of time together, being able to shut yourselves off completely from the rest of the world, even just for a few moments.

And as you pondered, it quickly turned out that you were not the only one to do so.

“What are you thinking pretty girl?” Logan asked, intrigued by what had made you smile.

“It’s just lovely down here, isn’t it?” You calmly spoke, unable to tear your eyes away from the scene unfolding in front of you, “our lives our so busy, and yet down here everything just feels so quiet.”

“Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” Logan questioned, usually the two of you were on the same page, and he really hoped you were now too.

You were all too aware that the beach was Logan’s favourite place in the world, the spot where he could relax and forget about everything else. The positives, the negatives, the whispers that always went around the paddock, many of which seemed to revolve around him and the future of his career in formula one.

The nod of your head was all Logan needed to take the keys out of the ignition and climb out of the car, running around the outside of the vehicle.

“Here,” he proudly grinned as he opened up your car door and extended his hand out for you to take a hold of.

“Such a gent,” you teased, making sure that you still had the blanket wrapped around you and your phone securely in your jean pocket before letting Logan help you out of the car. It took a moment for you to wake your legs up, but Logan was happy to stand beside you and give you all the time that you needed.

Once your feet were on the ground, his arm moved to wrap around your waist. “Are you going to be warm enough just taking that down there?”

You hum in reply to Logan, “I’m more concerned about you; will you be warm enough just in that shirt?”

“Of course,” he insisted, “and if I get cold then that just gives me more of a reason to cuddle into you, doesn’t it?”

You couldn’t help but laugh as Logan tickled against your waist, knowing that you would never argue with him. After locking up the car and making sure that the two of you had everything that you’d need, intertwined together you made your way down to the beach, finding the perfect spot.

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

Time ran away from you both as you settled in the dip that you had pointed out to Logan earlier. By now the sun was almost set, the sky was turning darker and darker, but that didn’t seem to bother either of you in the slightest.

The sound of the waves crashing filled those momentary pauses of conversation between you both, providing the perfect backdrop to your evening.

There was plenty going on around you both, but neither of you were paying any attention to it at all. All you wanted was Logan. All Logan wanted was you. It was as if there was an imaginary barrier wrapped around you both, keeping everyone and everything else away.

Your head was resting against Logan’s chest, propped up to try and avoid getting too many grains of sand tangled in your locks. Logan’s hands were all over your body, one on your waist to keep you close by, the other against the top of your head so that Logan could twirl a few strands of your hair around his fingertips whenever he found himself beginning to slip into a bit of a daydream.

“Are you warm enough?” Logan asked as his fingertips brushed against the goosebumps that were beginning to form on your skin. “We can go home if you want, I don’t want you to catch a cold or anything baby.”

“I’m good,” you whispered, trying your best to reassure Logan and stop him from worrying. You try your best to sound convincing, but with the sun now hidden, the coolness of the breeze is beginning to trouble you.

“I can tell when you’re lying,” Logan sniggered, able to read you like a book, arguably knowing you better than you knew yourself.

“Honestly, I’m happy here for a while,” you once again assured.

Logan hummed, although he was far from convinced, running his hand along your arm to try and generate some warmth. “We’ll stay here for a few more minutes, I’ve got something else in mind to finish our evening off, which I know you’ll love.”

“What’s that?” You quizzed, propping yourself up with a hand against Logan’s chest. He shook his head though, refusing to share what his plans were with you.

You tried your best to get his plans out of Logan. Your hands tickled against his tummy, fingers poked against his cheek and his ears, lips pressed several times against his cheeks and his lips, but he still remained silent. It was torment for you not being able to know exactly what was happening next for you both, but for Logan, it brought him a great deal of satisfaction to know that he was irritating you.

“You’ll love it,” he repeated, feeling you press yet another kiss along his jawline. “Do you really think I would ever organise for us to do something you dislike?” He then asked, however with Logan, you never managed to quite know what he had up his sleeve.

Feeling your eyes on him brought another laugh from Logan, especially as you doubted him.

“I’m not as horrible as you think you think I am I’ll have you know.”

“Do you remember the time-“ you began to say, only for Logan to cut you off by tickling your sides. The squeal that escaped from you earnt you a couple of glares from other people around you, but you didn’t care as you tried your hardest to push Logan’s hands off of you before you lost all control.

Unfortunately for you, Logan was far stronger than you, keeping his hands tight on your body as your legs kicked out against him, enjoying having you exactly where he wanted you.

Eventually, after pleading what felt like hundreds of times, Logan finally let you go.

“Come on, let’s get out of here before someone files a noise complaint against us,” Logan suggested, slipping his hand into yours and pulling you up from the comfort of the sand wrapped around your body.

You made sure to keep your blanket nice and tight around your frame as you allowed Logan to lead you back up the sand and towards the car. It was beginning to get quieter as people slipped away after the sun had set, giving you an easy path to the car. Like before, Logan opened up your car door for you, giving you a hand up so you could comfortably slip into the passenger seat, a seat that seemed like it had been moulded for your body given how much time you spent there these days, letting Logan drive you around.

“Are you still planning on keeping this a secret?” You quizzed as Logan impressively revved up his engine once again, nodding his head in response to you as he began to concentrate on safely getting the two of you to his next destination.

He smirked as you groaned, wishing that he wasn’t so secretive with you. “Just trust me my love, I told you that you’d love it, didn’t I?”

˚*•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙*˚＊

And love it you did as the two of you sat with your feet on the dashboard, a portion of chips between you both and messy burgers being held in your hands. You had sauce dripping everywhere, half of your fillings were in the footwell of the car, but neither of you cared a bit, simply humming in delight with every mouthful that you took.

You soon realised as Logan drove where he planned on taking you, the burger shack that he was only allowed to indulge in during certain weeks of the year. You promised Logan that you would never eat from there unless he was allowed to too, and with a three week break at your fingertips, he finally had permission. You were bouncing in your seat as soon as you realised where he was heading for, desperate to get your hands on the treat that you had craved for so long.

Beside you, Logan was a lot calmer, but on the inside, he was a bubbling mess just like you.

You’re so lost in your bubble of delight that you’ve almost forgotten Logan beside you. “It’s unfair how one fast food place can make food that tastes so good.”

“They’re still not as nice as the burgers you make,” Logan remarked as he grabbed a napkin, reaching across and dabbing against the corner of your mouth where a bit of sauce was beginning to dribble.

“You don’t have to pretend to be nice to me, we all know that’s not true,” you replied, refusing to let him even make the comparison.

“I think this is the perfect end to the perfect day, what do you think?” Logan quizzed, taking yet another huge bite out of his burger, closing his eyes as he savoured it.

You nodded in agreement, “we should go on some late night drives more often if this is how they’re going to end.”

A chuckle came from Logan, “just don’t tell the team that this is where we ended up.”

“Of course, our evening ended with us going home and making a delicious, nutritious chicken salad for our dinner.”

Over the years you seemed to have perfected your ability to lie, the ability to save Logan from getting into trouble with his bosses by pretending to agree with anything that he had to say.

“And obviously whilst we were at the beach you were doing some sort of workout to make sure that you’re in perfect shape for after the break.”

“I like your thinking,” Logan chuckled, admiring how well you knew what you had to do.

“See, not just a pretty face.”

No, you were far from just that in Logan’s eyes.

“Thank you for such a lovely evening babe.”

Logan simply smiled back at you, your eyes were bright with colour, and most of all he knew that your heart was full of happiness after spending your day with him.

“Don’t be silly, it should be me thanking you.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[jarofstyles]

Lullaby 2

Hey hi hello! We got vampy part 2 coming' at you now. I'm thinking this is a 5 parter, I've been chipping away at it :-) I hope you guys like him.

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Lullaby Masterlist

WC- 6.1k

Warnings- vampires, mention of blood, mentions of familial death etc, H is obsessive n a lil stalkery but he's a vampire so to be expected, slight manipulation on his part, invasion of her privacy, soft h, slight smutty thoughts, etc

————

The Sun setting was one of her favorite views. 

Sitting on the front porch with her book in hand, she had her feed tucked under her to the side as she looked at the blend of fiery orange, saccharine pinks, brilliant yellows and the tiniest bits of purple. The calming of the day, the chaos of lawnmowers, cars running, children giggling and squealing all blending out into a soft quiet harmonized with crickets. The new summer heat lingered but the cool breeze tickled her skin, a welcome relief from the oven of a car she had been in on the way home. Her AC had died earlier today, marking the beginning of a difficult day. 

At the end of it, though, she could always count on the sky to calm her down. The swirls of color fading into the night, twinkly stars appearing as the dotted sky darkened and the moon peaked out to say hello. 

Y/N was a dreamer. Someone with her head in the clouds a lot of the time, theorizing and poetical thinking, wondering what else was out there in the world. What had she not discovered yet? There was this tug in her soul, bone deep, that she was meant for something more. That the other shoe would drop at any moment and her life would be turned upside down. Her dreams were filled with promise, of a world that was a little darker but so much more vibrant. Smells more intense, colors more vivid, taste elevated. In her dreams a few nights prior, she could feel the hands of her lover perfectly, though she had a problem actually seeing them- just a general outline, dark hair, pale skin. Cool hands on her cheek that she nuzzled into, a deep voice drawling out words she couldn’t quite understand but somehow found comfort in. That feeling had soothed her soul, settled that ache in her bones even just for the duration of the dream. 

Her heart hurt when she arose, seeing no lover beside her. No cool fingers brushing hair from her eyes, no soft lips buttoning with her own. It hurt her to crave someone she logically knew didn’t actually exist, but she accepted it. As dreamy as she could be, her logical mind won over in this aspect and reminded her that she’d find her person one day. That her dreams were just dreams, to not mourn the loss of a lover that simply did not exist.

But still, the yearning didn’t stop. 

Her bowl of cherries beside her, she rocked on her glider as she watched people arrive home for the night. Odd? Perhaps. But Y/N enjoyed the art of people watching. Waving to her neighbors who gave her polite smiles before entering their own houses, seeing their own families.

As much as she was grateful to her grandmother for leaving her the large old home that she had many a memory in, it sometimes felt overwhelmingly lonely. There was only so much space a single young woman needed, and even if she thoroughly enjoyed using a single room for a closet, it only reminded her when she laid in the dead of night after waking up over some weird tugging feeling in her chest that bogged her down significantly. That loneliness that felt even more palpable in the way she had no one to try her test batch of cookies and no one to turn over to in bed to show a ridiculous post she saw on social media. 

Sure, she had some friends who would come over and stay the night at times but after her grandmother passed, she had no one. At least of familial relation. Her friends were as close as they could get, but it was difficult to form bonds at times when she was tugged two separate ways. Everyone always left. The want to be so close she was clingy, and the overwhelming fear something would happen and they would leave by their own accord- or not- hindered her from allowing people to get as close as she desired. 

Sometimes she wished her loved ones could have been immortal. Even though it didn’t exist- even if her grandmother told her the stories of the supernatural and paranormal bonds- she wished it did. Wished that someone would never leave her, would love her endlessly. A bond deeper than marriage, no worries of cheaters or boring of her. It may sound a bit crazy, but she wished for complete devotion. Overwhelming love that wouldn’t end.  If only something like that existed in anything but a book. Her grandmother had sort of set her up for failure by planting all those ideas of those all encompassing love stories in her mind.

Sighing to herself, she popped a cherry into her mouth to end her own pity party and went to go back to her book- but a familiar car brought her out of her focus.

Harry was back. 

He hadn’t been home for three days, she had noticed. Not that she was stalking him or anything but she had vowed to herself in her journal and her mind to make more of an effort with him, so his absence had been noted. In some ways she had been relieved to have an excuse so she wouldn’t have to fear rejection but on the other hand she was getting antsy to just get the disappointment over if it was going to happen  

Harry was, for a lack of a better term, dreamy. His voice, the bold structure of his face; the petal pink of his lips. He had the most alluring eyes, shifting between green and gold at times that she had noticed the last time they’d spoken. He was tall and built, large shoulders and tattooed arms she had seen peeks of but not enough to get a full picture. Large hands with thicker fingers and a plethora of rings that would look gaudy on anyone else but with his persona, it simply fit. Slightly mysterious, guarded in a way; but still kind. Classy in a different sort of style that she hadn’t seen from many people around here. The stylish way he dressed even represented bits and pieces of a time that she read of in her books. He was elegant in ways that she had thought of as a movie character, like he was in a different time period and brought here. The elements of vintage tied into his outfits had her thinking he must have an appreciation for history at the very least.

Her eyes took him in as he lifted a worn leather duffle bag out of the trunk of his sports car. It wasn’t the Range Rover she had usually seen, or the Audi, but a bit flashier and sleek. A new purchase, maybe? Nevertheless,  it was a way into conversation. 

“Nice car!” She called over, wincing immediately as she realized how lame that must have sounded. His head snapped over to hers, sunglasses still on his eyes even with the fading light. A tiny smile planted the well of his dimple, placing the bag on top of the now closed trunk. 

“Hi, Y/N.” Skin prickled with chills as he said her name. It sounded real damn nice coming from his mouth. “Would you like to come see it?” He asked politely. Not being able to see his eyes was a little intimidating, but she returned the smile and stood up with her cherries in hand. The least she could do was share her fruit with him if he was letting her see the car.

“Is it new?” She questioned, approaching with her sandals slapping against her feet. Mentally she set a reminder to get different ones that weren’t obnoxious. Getting closer to him she could feel the familiar tingle at the base of her spine, a slight giddiness as her heartbeat picked up the closer she got to him.

“It is, yeah. Had to fly out to drive it back.” He admitted, seemingly taller than the last time they’d talked. How much money did the man have? Surely a decent amount, as anyone in this neighborhood did, but three cars and flying out to get one seemed a bit luxurious to her. 

“Oh wow, that’s some dedication. It looks worth it though. I don’t know a ton about cars but it’s gorgeous.” She nodded, looking it over. The rambling didn’t help her cause but it was pretty much standard when she was nervous. “Oh! Uh, did you want some of my cherries?” Holding the pink ceramic bowl out to him, her eyes looked up at him and saw her reflection in the sunglasses. She wished she could see how he was looking back at her. If she would see any interest. Thankfully she could tell by the smile that he at least seemed slightly endeared. 

“Sure, thank you.” Two of his ringed fingers picked out a ripe one, pinching the small red fruit in his hands, looking down as a bit of the juice dribbled down his thumb. “Did you…”

“Yeah, I pitted them already. Sorry, I didn’t think to warn you. But you’re wearing all black so it shouldn’t stain, I don’t think.” The attempt of a joke had her groaning in her head. Could she act fucking normal? Her mind was a jumbled mess, as it usually was with him, but it seemed to be getting worse. The thought of her cherry stained fingers had come back to her, filtering through the thoughts of wanting to know more about him into a slight shame that she hadn’t thought to have warned the man of dripping cherry juice down the back of his hand. 

“It’s not a problem.” He assured, popping it into his mouth.

Perhaps she needed to get laid, but somehow watching him chew the cherry was better than porn. The slight dark red sheen on his lip, gently dripping down his chin and the clench of his jaw as he worked the flesh of the fruit through his teeth, he let out a pleased hum. 

Y/N saw the path the dribble of juice going further down and before she could think twice, she leaned up on her toes. There was little hesitation as she thumbed over his chin, wiping the juice away. It had been like second nature, invading his personal space like it was instinct.

Her hand froze as soon as reality set in, his chewing taking a pause as there was a moment of bated breath. Bright eyes widened, ripping her hand away like his touch had scorched her. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I have no idea why I just did that.” She squawked, holding her hand up in front of her chest. “That was so rude of me. I swear I don’t usually just touch people like that, it was just dripping down your chin and I didn’t want it to stain more of your skin and-“

“I didn’t say it was a problem.” The vampire murmured, swallowing the sweet fruit. “I didn’t mind at all.” His own thumb came up to brush over the path her digit had taken. It still thrummed with warmth from the human’s touch, his body perking up as he ached to take a step closer. Her scent made a lot of sense considering he had seen her more often than not with bowls of fruit on her porch. Fresh cut strawberries in sugar, watermelon, mango sliced into wedges, grapes, but most frequent were the cherries. It reflected in her sweet scent, sugary but not in a sickly way. Fresh, sweet, ripe like fruit. 

He was glad he wore his glasses because the thought moved towards how sweet she would taste right now. If he were able to just take her gaze and use his slow, deep words and locked eyes to compel her to move the hair off of her neck and tilt it for him, lift her to sit on the hood of the car and let his teeth sink into the throbbing artery in her throat. How the sugary taste would tinge the metallic aftertaste. She’d writhe in his hold and spread her legs for him, give him the option of burying his tongue to lap up the only substance that would be able to compete with the obsession he would surely have with her blood. Maybe even take a bite at the junction of her thigh, leave marks all over her. Punctures to visibly show it and his scent to claim the little human as his own. 

If the glasses weren’t on, it was sure that she’d see the flash of red in his iris. 

“Still.” She said sheepishly. “We are friends but I don’t know how you are with touch and everything and I didn’t have permission, so I’m sorry.”

Harry smiled at that. The little peach, his little cherry, so considerate of other people. She had no idea how he had to dig his nails into his palm to keep from grabbing her and hauling her into him so he could suck off the slight stain on her lips. Bury his face in her throat and inhale her dangerous temptation. 

“I promise, it’s quite alright. You can touch me anytime you’d like.” He took a risk in placing one of his hands on her shoulder, letting some more of her warmth infiltrate his system. The words had been loaded, sure, but he remembered vividly how her journal entry had written about wanting to see more of him. It was his fault, spending so much time with her even if she was asleep. Her body was going to crave him just as much as he craved her. “If you would like, I would be more than willing to take you on a drive sometime.”

This was something of an excuse to see her again, but the creature was overwhelmingly desperate to form a bond with her. As much as he looked forward to watching her sleep, he would rather her be in his bed, soaking his sheets and pillows with her tantalizing scent. The idea of getting close to her was something he had been weighing for a while, but reading her journal a few days ago had clued him into knowing the pull wasn’t just one sided.

The memory of her nuzzling her cheek into his frosty palm, sighing in contentment when he had observed her the night before had him feeling borderline insane- even more than one would be after living centuries, amassing knowledge and watching the world consistently evolve around you than one would imagine. His hand still tingled when he recalled feeling the heat of her skin, knowing she was so full of life underneath him. Finding comfort in the monster that gnawed at his cheek to keep from sinking his fangs into her delectable skin, taste her blood as it seeped over his tongue. If only he could skip to the part where she knew, where she’d crave the venom igniting her nerves. Y/N would be the prettiest little snack he ever had.

“Oh, really?” She perked up, blinking up at him. “I’d love that. When- when did you want to? It’s up to you, I’m free all weekend and stuff but I know you’re busy.” There was a pause. “Or it seems so. I’m not sure why I assumed that.” 

Again, his little human made him chuckle. “I am.” He wasn’t, not right now. He had a handle on his duties, but the majority of the time he was writing. Painting. Looking at properties to invest in on his iPad while curated playlists crooned from the speakers around his house. If only he could imagine such a thing back in 1760 without being accused of witchcraft. Then again, witchcraft was too much for humans even now to comprehend. “But I’d be more than happy to take you out. I don’t… know many people in the neighborhood because of it. A little lonely at times.”

It was actually by his own want, because the less people knew of him around here the better- but he had this insane obsession with this particular human, so she was the exception to his ‘stick to vampires but even then limit your socialization’ rule. 

He knew he was appealing to Y/N’s metaphorical bleeding heart. Manipulation was in his nature. In this case, though, he had no cruel intentions. He wanted to get to know the pretty girl, wanted to have her feel the same amount of lust and obsession he was subject to feel on a daily basis. Humans knew nothing of how intense and passionate a vampire’s affections could be, and for that reason he had been hiding his time. Laying in the shadows and approaching while she slept to soothe the inner beast that insisted he crawl out the window with her body attached to his so she could reside in his house, feast on whatever she chose and allowed him to touch and feed on her as much as he chose. 

She’d like it, he was pretty sure. Once she warmed up to the idea, Harry had high hopes that she would allow him to be as handsy as he wanted. Sex between a pair with a compatible scent was otherworldly. If she were to be with him, he’d need to pace himself and understand his strength, but there was that part of him that still worried slightly. He cared for her. She wasn’t a metaphorical juice pouch for him to snack on like a lot of others his kind referred to humans as. Something he used to laugh at before he scented the girl with eager eyes in front of him. Now he understood why his uncle had fought so much, defending his human soulmate. Eventually he turned her, but during the few years she remained human he had been valiant in his efforts to defend her honor in every way possible.

It was partially why he didn’t tell many people of his suspicions of his bond with his own little human. Already slightly on edge from not being able to hold her the way his body needed, he would not be surprised if he lost it on anyone who snickered at her. 

Buying the car was a strategic effort to get himself to cool off, but it did no good. If anything he was more desperate now. The good news, however, was that Y/N felt his absence just as much. Her hands had touched him like he was hers to touch. His body felt the flush of pleasure just being near her, clenching his fists by his sides to keep from reaching out to her. So close to him, so damn close, but he had to behave. 

Y/N with her tender soul gave him a look of understanding. One that would later make him feel a sickly guilt because he was alone by choice, and the pretty woman was alone because life had dealt her a hard hand. She understood loneliness because it was all she felt. 

“Well you know me.” Her voice was delicate as she looked up at him. “And we can get to know each other so maybe you feel less alone. I know the feeling and it’s hard, but you don’t need to feel that with me. I’m right next door.” Pointing towards her house with an understanding smile, he felt a little more guilt but tried to shove it down. Y/N wouldn’t feel any sort of loneliness if he could help it. “You’re welcome anytime. Just knock.” 

The knowledge that he’d been inside her house more times than she could even count should be something that exacerbated the guilt, but it didn’t. In that respect, he thought of it as a favor to her. Getting his fix without suffocating her with his presence while she was awake was a gift, because if she had even the slightest inkling on how much self control it took for him not to simply steal her away and sink his teeth into her neck, claim her as his soul bonded, she would be terrified. “I will.” Letting himself smile a bit bigger at her, he lifted the bag up on his arm. “How about you come over tomorrow evening and I’ll take you on the drive.” 

He could hear the pickup of her heart. The slightly elevated thumping went harder, the blood rushing to her cheeks as her eyes widened slightly and she swallowed audibly- for him anyways- making him feel the satisfaction in his chest that he had this sort of impact on her. If his heart still beat he was positive it would kick up at the mere mention of her, the slight catch of her scent, but this was progress. Restraining himself now was the hardest thing he had ever done. 

“Yeah! Yeah, that would be awesome.” The human chirped, tucking a bit of hair behind her ear. His hand tightened on the bad strap from how the slight movement had wafted some more of her scent towards him. It would be a struggle to control his eyes when they were alone, but going at sundown should be an excuse to keep his glasses on… at least for a little while. 

“Amazing. I’ll be yours at sunset.” 

In more ways than she knew.

Harry let her stumble over her goodbyes, her slightly shaky hands grabbing the bowl of cherries and walking back to her front porch with curious eyes that met his own as she looked back. He knew he wasn’t the only one who felt the connection, he’d seen it written in her journal, but feeling it in real time was surreal. It took the most self discipline he’d needed all week to walk inside his house, dropping himself onto the velvet sofa with a grunt. The place she had touched on his chin to wipe away the ironically deep red juice still held some warmth, reminding him again that she’d touched him. There was no question about the pull, seeing how mortified she’d been at her body's reaction- but it had been natural. It made sense to him that she’d be drawn to touch him. Human resolve was weaker than one of a vampire but that didn’t mean he didn’t feel that overwhelming urge to run to her house and ask to come in right now just to see her. 

Instead, he sat with the french doors open in the back to listen to her go about her house. She hummed to herself, cooked dinner, and took a shower. The humid air floated out of her bathroom window that she kept slightly cracked to make sure it didn’t steam up too much, letting him inhale her at her purest form. When they got together he’d try to find her less strong shampoo and wash so her natural scent could be highlighted, but luckily her intuition had her choosing similar to how she came off to him. Almost like subconsciously she knew what to do to attract him there. 

It was when he heard the scratching of pen to paper that he went outside to wait. In hand he had a warmed bag of blood poured into a crystal glass- a bit pretentious- to calm his nerves. He loved wine, sure, but he needed to be positive his hunger was satiated before going up to see her. If he was being honest, he knew it wouldn’t be until he tasted Y/N, but he had to try. Had to keep her safe in the best ways he could until they passed the threshold of pretending to move around one another and into a courting. 

The plan had never been to take a human as a mate- as it probably wasn’t for any vampire. Humans were glorified bloodbags to a lot of his kind, seen as a lesser being. While he didn’t always share that exact sentiment, he was guilty of caring less for humans in general. They were oblivious to danger, slightly obnoxious, covered themselves in putrid perfumes, loud, uncouth, and fragile. So fucking fragile that it still terrified Harry to touch Y/N. He needed to ensure her safety in any way possible and that meant training himself to touch gently. To hold gently. To avoid any sort of pain that would absolutely wreck him to be the source of.

Humans weren’t ideal mates for that reason. Vampires got carried away during sx, the stamina hot and hard, the passion making it difficult to hide the monstrous nature that laid internally. He knew he’d take Y/N over and over again until she was sleepy and sore if he had the chance. If Y/N allowed him that honor, he could easily spend days locked inside of a room with her with little need to pull his cock from the warm confines of her cunt. It was the dream he had over and over again, yet something he feared. If he lost control with her in the heat of the moment he couldn’t recover. Though he had faith in himself to keep her safe, sex was the one thing he craved and feared the most with her. 

Lost in his thoughts, he watched the light turn down in her room. Never off, as she had a slight fear of the dark. Her bedside lamp turned on, he could hear her breathing start to even out as he jumped over the fence separating their properties and scaled the tree to her balcony. It wasn’t necessary, but the less trapezing he had to do around her home the better. Counting her heartbeats, he waited for 30 minutes for it all to even out and resemble the deeper parts of sleep before he opened the door.

One of these days he would scold her for leaving windows and doors unlocked. It was just like a human to be forgetful of those things, even if it did benefit him. His chest tightened as he walked in to see her body curled into a ball under the duvet. Hair peeking out, she was obviously a bit cold from how she had huddled under the cover of her blankets. A pang of sadness hit his stomach, perhaps a hint of inadequacy because he wouldn’t be able to keep her warm with his body. He could blame all sorts of health issues, but as long as she remained human he wouldn’t be a source of comfort in that way. 

He let out a soft sigh before swiping the journal, settling himself in the chair across from her. A leg crossed over his thigh, lightly tapping his foot in the air as he began to read. 

‘I talked to Harry today :-) He was so nice. Very intimidating in a weird way, but also not. It’s hard to explain. That feeling that makes me drawn to him felt a little stronger, even if I did make a fool of myself. I didn’t think twice before reaching up to wipe cherry juice from his chin, which like…. That was so weird of me. He didn’t seem to judge me for it but there had to be some part of him that was freaked out.’

A chuckle left his throat, whisper soft as his fingertip caressed the words as he read. In his head he could hear exactly how she’d say these things out loud. The journal was an extension of her, a physical example of her stream of consciousness. 

‘Regardless, I’m seeing him tomorrow. I’m panicking, of course, but I think above else I’m really excited. There’s that weird buzzing in my stomach at the thought of him and my chest gets all warm. I haven’t ever spent time with him outside of our talks outside or when he came to get his cat but he offered. I was going to be brave and all of that but thank god he took the initiative. I would have done it… probably. It’s just hard because I don’t think my body has ever reacted to a man the way it reacted to him today.’

Harry smiled to himself at the last sentence. It must be confusing to a human with no idea of what was happening. No clue that it was the universe leading her towards him, making him appealing because he was the one that could give her what she wanted. She was his, the bond he had accidentally jumpstarted starting to fall further into place. The sleeping girl didn’t know how he’d almost moaned at the feeling of her hand on him, how he’d been tempted to suck the juice from her thumb and squish one of the fruits between his fingers to trickle down her neck. His throat tightened at the image in his head, dark red beads moving down her skin, taunting him. His tongue lapping it up, kissing over her pulsepoint before he sunk his teeth in and took a few strong pulls from her artery. 

Swallowing thickly, he went to go back to the journal entry, to read more about her thoughts and excitement about him, but that was interrupted. 

“Harry?” A hoarse voice rang through the air, making his entire body freeze. The flush of cold washed over him as he lifted his eyes to meet hers, droopy and furrow browed. “Am I dreaming?” 

Fuck. 

“Yeah, darling. It’s a dream.” His voice swiftly took on a croon, placing the journal to the desk and standing up from the chair. “You’re alright.” If his heart still beat it would be in his throat and at his feet at the same time, body tense as he tried to navigate this the best way possible. It was too early for her to know he came in here, came to spend time with her even when she slept. It was far too much for her to know he counted her breaths and monitored the beats in her chest. That he tried to give her privacy when she touched herself to get herself sleepy, but he couldn’t help overhearing even when trying to distract himself in his home office. 

“Oh.” The sad sigh had him curious. Was she disappointed? What would she truly do if she knew this was anything but a dream, a sickly reality where a monster was completely and utterly obsessed with her, and wanted to bond her to his side for the rest of eternity. “Can you come lay with me then? If this is a dream I think I shouldn’t waste it with you over there.” 

The vampire wanted to laugh at how completely absurd this was. How fucking insanely lucky he had gotten that her own glass of wine had her more drowsy than normal. This scenario had been his fear from the beginning, but he had to wonder if her body felt the pull more now that she’d touched him. Now, she knew how his skin felt. Contact had been made, and maybe her body felt his presence more than before. “Of course I can.” He smiled lightly, padding over to her empty side of the bed to toe off his shoes. It felt surreal, her heat radiating off of the mattress as he slowly lowered himself down on the sleeping pad that was probably a bit too hard and springy for her. She’d prefer his bed, he was positive. It’d cost a pretty penny but for the times he did want to sleep it was perfection. 

“This is the most realistic dream. I need to lay off the Cabernet before bed.” She yawned, lifting the duvet up and showing no hesitation as she scooted closer to him and laid herself down next to him. “Well, dream Harry, you’re gonna have t’do until the real one wants me. Hold me please.” 

It was times like this that Harry wondered what sort of good karma he’d gotten, especially with how many lives he’d taken,  to get a taste of this. Her body warmth was so delicious, her scent making his mouth water and he thanked whoever was listening in his head that he’d had the intuition to have fed before this. Her body was delicate and soft, turning over for him to lay with her- spoon her. Harry hadn’t done this in a number of years, had never felt the real urge to, but he did it for her regardless. Took her soft flesh into his hands and felt her shiver as she she huddled closer to him. Hot fingers ran over the backs of his hands, slotting in between the spaces. In all his existence, he had never had a feeling to compare to his one.

“Is this alright, Darling?” He asked into her ear, trying his best to remain calm. This was the ultimate impulse control, her thudding pulse right at mouth level. He could hear the blood running under her skin, the pumps of her heart moving it through her system. Digging his canine into his lip, he took deep and slow breaths through his mouth to try and limit temptation. It didn’t take it all away, his head dizzy from the scent surrounding him, but if he took a large inhale of the spot next to her ear he would perhaps lose his mind. 

���Mhm.” She sighed contently. “This is a good dream. Maybe you’ll fall in love with me tomorrow and I can make this real.” The words were said so quiet that he was sure that no human could hear them, but he could. He heard them and committed them to memory. The sweet little human had no idea that he’d been falling for a long time. Y/N took up the majority of his thoughts, owning him in a way that had him feeling like his life wasn’t his anymore. For someone with control issues it had made him furious at first, but the last bit of anger towards her for owning him melted away as she melted into his body, giving herself to him. There was no way he could hold even the slightest bit of resentment when it felt this divine to hold her. 

The only times he had held humans in his life had been to drain them of their blood. To watch the life drain from them as he took it selfishly for his own needs. Never once has it been to cherish one, to commit the feel of her fingers between his to memory. It was overwhelming, as the girl dozed off in his arms, to know that this was merely a taste of what he could have. He needed to charm her, to get her to see that he could give her the love no one else could. Albeit obsessive, possessive, intense, unlike anything a human could give her, he had a feeling that if she had been a temptation for him that the fates had chosen to give him a human who could handle it. 

“I’m going to take care of you.” He spoke softly, not wanting to rouse her from her sleep quite yet. “You are the most precious thing in my world. Somehow you’ve managed to bewitch me, little human. Completely take my heart from my chest, regardless of how dormant it has laid.” Inhaling shakily, he let his nose run along her cheek. “You won’t have to be alone ever again. Not if I can help it. I’ll show you the love you deserve.”

It wasn’t until the bright blue of the early turning dawn started to break that he found himself able to move from her bed. It took three tries and a lot of control when she sought him out, holding tighter to him and whimpering when he went to leave in his first attempts, but he had to go before she woke up. It ached, the thought of leaving her, but he had to. Even though hours later would feel like an eternity, he couldn’t take any more risks tonight. The selfishness he had for staying all night couldn’t be extended to waking her up with sweet words and his mouth. Even though it pained him, the soreness of his chest making it feel even more hollow, he had felt more whole in those hours than he’d ever imagined he could be. 

The melancholy that followed him around, the bitterness, it didn’t go away completely- but it had dulled down to a whisper as he climbed out of her yard. Just hours with her and he felt lighter.   Like his heart started to beat again. 

[heaven4lostgirls]

hi!! i was curious if you would write something that starts out with barty x reader and evan is just friends with both of them before feeling like he’s impeding on their relationship (a little bit angsty if you’re comfortable with that) but barty and reader tell him that he’s not impeding at all and they’re actually very interested in him joining their relationship (totes no worries if not!!)

pairing: poly!rosekiller x reader

summary: request above!

word count: 1.8k

a/n: thank you for your your request, this somehow came much easier to me than i thought it would? (i’m blaming the fact that they have been consuming my every thought since last week) not proofread btw

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evan’s not sure when it started, when it started feeling less like evan hanging out with two of his close friends and more like evan third wheeling two of his closest friends.

he dislikes it, the change. it makes him feel silly, why does he want to spend this much time with two people who obviously have no obligation to him outside of friendship? (and why does he wish that would change?)

he watches you and barty stroll ahead of him in the streets of hogsmeade, inhibiting himself from increasing his walking speed to catch up to the two of you, to join in the boisterous laughter that you two share.

instead, he lets himself watch longingly of what he so wishes was his future. his eyes travel along the landscape of the small town, always finding his eyes making their way back to your shared figures ahead of him.

your hair catching the orange glare of the setting sun, comparable in brightness to the smile on barty’s face as he listens to you babble nonsensically about a novel you had been reading.

evan allows himself only a single moment to mourn, mourn a love he had never really had in the first place, but nonetheless mourn the loss.

he knew he could never tell either of you of his feelings, he had watched the both of you fall in love, the shared glances, lingering touches and lovesick gazes.

all of which he longed to experience yet knew that neither of you would ever reciprocate his feelings. so he tortured himself in spending his free time with you both, to limit suspicion, but ever so slightly, pulling away, tending to walk behind the both of you, instead of with, sitting behind the two of you in class but always paired with another classmate for projects. studying with the two of you in the library, but always leaving early with one or more excuses.

barty and you had noticed, of course you had, but chalked it up to evan only adjusting to the shift in dynamic between your trio. you both missed him dearly but never asked for him to stay in fear of pushing him further away.

and thus, in a viscious cycle, the three of you drifted further apart than ever before, each party too afraid of admitting that they missed the other and impeaching on unconscious boundaries.

however, as you and barty walk down hogsmeade, evan trailing behind the two of you like a glorified guard dog rather than your best friend, you murmur to your lover, “we need to talk to him” with a sad look.

barty turns to you with furrowed eyebrows, “what if he doesn’t want to talk?” he says and you can’t help but turn and pitifully look back at evan’s bored yet slightly sad expression.

“we have to try, i-we can’t lose him” you emphasize and barty nods in understanding before placing a hand on your cheek.

“we’ll talk with him when we reach the castle, okay angel?” he says with a soft murmur, pressing a soft kiss on your forehead. you hum in acknowledgement before closing your eyes.

evan’s heart clenches at the sight of the two of you, so perfectly fit together, how could he ever compete? not that he wanted to, but he knew deep down that he would never be what either of you wanted nor needed and it was better to cut his losses than to have his heart broken unexpectedly.

as you reach the castle, you all make your way to the slytherin common room and up to barty and evan’s shared dorm. evan is about to make an excuse about studying in the library to avoid being alone with you two but before he can make his escape, your voice breaks the silence in the empty dorm.

“evan.” your tone is soft and calming, yet evan’s heart drops to his stomach, clenching painfully as he closes his eyes in an “oh fuck” moment.

he turns to you with a fake smile, beckoning you to continue, hoping whatever you’re going to say, it isn’t what he thinks it is.

“what’s going on?” so it’s exactly what he thinks it is, he doesn’t have to play into this, he doesn’t have to give you the answers you seek- “what’s what?” he asks as he shrugs, faking nonchalance at the situation.

you and barty share a look that has evan clenching his jaw, “you’re pulling away from us!” you accuse him. the silence that follows is defeaning, the only sound is evan’s sharp intake of breath.

“we don’t have to talk about this-“ evan says quickly as he looks alarmed at the both of you before barty scoffs.

“yes we fucking do” and there’s a ‘don’t argue with me’ tone in his voice. evan only avoids his gaze as he looks at his shoes and shrugs once again.

“it doesn’t matter-“ he says again with an avoidant tone, barty only growls in annoyance. “yes it fucking does evan! we miss you!” barty states loudly and evan can’t help but flinch as he meekly looks up and meets barty’s gaze.

you clench your jaw in hope that it stops the tears from welling in your eyes. “did we do something? to-make you uncomfortable?” your voice breaks midway and evan’s wide eyed gaze jumps to yours in alarm and worry at the tears in your eyes.

“no!-no.” he shakes his head with wide eyes, “fuck.” he says as he looks down again and blows out a breath as he rakes a hand through his messy blonde hair.

“it’s just-“ he blows out a frustrated breath. “i can’t do this” he shakes his head as his voice wobbles, you look at barty whose gaze is swimming in worry.

“evan” barty starts softly, in the same tone he uses just for you, evan flinches as he hears it and shakes his head again, this time more frantically as he pulls at his roots.

he looks at barty in an almost manic movement, looking comparably to a rabid animal backed into a corner. “don’t-“ he starts as he chokes up, “don’t use that fucking tone” he says as he wraps his arms around himself. “not-not when you use it with her, not when i know it doesn’t mean the same as thing” he stammers out as he backs himself more into the wall.

“evan” barty’s eyes soften and you look at him again before deciding to walk closer to evan, “is that what this is about?” you ask softly, your heart clenching as he withdraws from you further, not letting you come any further towards him.

“what else could it possibly be about!” he cries out and looks at the two of you, gaze jumping from both of your figures as tears fall steadily past his pale cheeks.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t mean for it to happen, it just did-”

“evan..”

“-and i tried to pull away but it just kept getting worse and you guys started noticing but didn’t say anything-”

“evan.”

“-i was trying to get over it, it was only a small crush! i would have never broken that boundary between the two of you-”

“EVAN!” the yell breaks evan out of his rambling as he looks at barty in shock.

“why didn’t you tell us?” you ask softly as your lip wobbles, your arms finding their way around your midsection in an attempt to self soothe your anxiety.

“tell you?!” evan cries incredulously as if the idea was implausible. “yes” barty says stiffly. “because you two are together?! and you don’t feel the same! which is understandable because i’m not really anything you should want but!-”

“who said we didn’t like you?” barty asks sternly and evan’s almost ramble is cut short as he looks at barty dumbfounded before turning his gaze to look at you as if to ask ‘did you just hear what your boyfriend just said or am i going insane?’ to which you look pointedly at him.

“well?” you prompt with a quirked brow, still somewhat shaking from the fear bubbling under your skin.

“well- i mean- nobody? but it’s implied when two people are in a committed relationship that they’re not really on the market anymore-“ evan starts before you butt in,“we’re not.”

you say helpfully before evan nods in acquiescence, “see!-so you would never-!”

“that doesn’t include you love” barty says with a huff, but you can tell by his voice there’s a small smile on his face as he watches evan struggle to come to terms with what your boyfriend is saying.

“you-? you two- want me?!” he asks, eyes widening and posture tensing. barty and you turn to each other with shared smiles before you turn to evan with a small shrug with a grin blooming over your face, “always have” you admit shyly and watch as evan blanches.

“uh-“ evan looks between the two of you, speechless.

“i’m going to walk up to you now love, i’d appreciate it if you’d let me hug you love, because if you don’t it might just break my heart” barty jokes with smirk before taking slow and cautious steps towards evan’s figure in the corner of the dorm.

evan allows himself to be comforted by the familiarity of barty’s arms around him, he melts into the hug as he exhales a breath of relief. he opens his eyes to meet your gaze behind barty’s back as you watch the two of them with a gentle smile on your face.

evan taps barty’s shoulder in a gentle touch to ask if he can let him go, barty pulls away slowly before looking into evan’s gaze, “i’m not good with communicating what i want, for that i’m sorry, but as far as i’ve been concerned, you’ve been mine since fourth year.” barty admits with heat in his gaze and evan’s mouth drops open as the other boy pulls away nonchalantly and walks back over to his bed on the other side of the dorm.

“you like me” evan states dumbly as he looks at you and you can’t help but have a small laugh at his expense before walking over to him in less cautious steps in comparison to barty, “seems so” you murmur as you stand in front of him with a small smile, letting him have the freedom to make the first move, should he choose to.

he blows out a breath before nodding and placing a hand on your cheek as he gazes into your eyes with adoration, leaning down and pressing his forehead to yours. he closes his eyes and breathes in deeply before you’re pulled into a comforting embrace. you slowly wrap your arms around his waist.

you both stand in a comfortable silence before barty’s voice breaks the silence, “can you two come and do that on the bed before i go and complain to regulus about being neglected?” he complains from the middle of his bed.

you two pull away and share a humorous glance before you walk hand in hand to his bed.

[bueckersgirl]

Favorite Customer*

(seriously tho, where are the FICS OF HER YALL DO BETTER. 😭)

Paige Bueckers x Fem reader

Summary: Paige goes to the bar to blow off some steam occasionally , and y/n, who works there might have a tad bit of a crush on her.

WC: 1.7K

Warnings: 18+, smut, just straight up filth

➽───────────────❥

There she was.

Y/n’s customer crush was here.

Paige.

She sat in the same spot she normally did each time she’d go. Sixth one down from the second row, right next to the window.

She had a blue oversized hoodie worn strictly around her neck with a white tank top underneath. Her pretty blonde hair was put back in a messy low bun that framed her face so perfectly.

Y/n poured out what she usually requested- a glass of cosmopolitan with a tad bit of orange juice and some aperol. She’d also occasionally order a slider but due to the time she’d always come they were usually gone.

It may sound strange but, y/n found herself almost fascinated by her. The way she’d remain consistent on her arrivals, only ever coming twice a week at exactly two thirty in the morning-never earlier or later. She was captivating.

Y/n got used to seeing her there so often it became a part of her schedule that she wouldn’t dare complain about. She would never admit it-of course but seeing Paige after working these long shifts always brightened up her mood and made her day a fuck ton better.

“Hi, ma.”

Y/n was brought back from her thoughts once she heard the breathy voice she’d been desperately craving all night calling out to her from the booth. She glanced up and noticed her already staring with a cute smile across her face.

“Hi, Paige.” y/n replied softly while returning the smile back and handing her the glass she just made.

“I assumed you’d want your regular.”

“You remember my drink order?”

“It’s not a hard drink, really-”

“What did the last person before me order, hm?”

damnit.

Y/n’s breath got caught in her throat while her mind practically went blank right there on the spot.

“I forgot.” she whispered, causing Paige to smirk widely as she leaned back and chuckled.

Though they didn’t know much about each other, Paige found her absolutely adorable. She’d always notice the way y/n’s cheeks reddened when she’d call her ‘ma’ or any light praises she’d give her on how delicious the drink she made was.

Paige kept her eyes precisely on hers and saw how she was quick to look away making her already smug and wide smirk somehow widen even more. “Don’t gotta get all shy on me now, ma. It’s cool if I’m your favorite customer.” she winked as she sipped her drink.

“Maybe… Woah-.” She muttered softly before she felt herself getting dragged by the hip right next to Paige.

“Sorry if I caught you off guard, mama. I'm just not a fan of the distance while we’re speaking, I’m sure you understand, right?”

Y/n quickly nodded her head in response and felt her cheeks grow warm again as she fidgeted with her fingers.

“I’m- I really should get back.”

“You don’t need to go anywhere, ma, there’s no other customers here for you to attend” she interrupts with a small grin, “C’mon, please?”

Y/n hesitated for a second before sighing then quickly glancing at the other empty booths before unbuttoning 2 buttons on her vest and leaning back.

“See?” Paige hummed as she removed a strand of hair from y/n’s face before having another sip of her drink. “Probably so much more comfortable now huh, mama?”

Y/n smiled then nodded and turned to look at Paige.

Fuck she’s sexy.

She was so stuck in her thoughts she hadn’t realized how hard and long she’d been staring for or that she’d now been looking at her lips.

Before y/n even got the chance to think again, Paige attached her lips to hers then lightly pulled y/n’s face closer to hers in order to deepen the kiss before she slid her tongue in her mouth.

“Wanna get out of here?” She whispered and y/n was quick to comply as Paige grabbed her hand and rushed them out the bar.

They made it to her car and y/n felt desperate. After Paige touched her once she felt herself craving more. She grabbed her by her shirt and pulled her back into the kiss as a quiet moan escaped Paige’s lips.

“Desperate huh, mama? Always could tell you were a desperate girl but never thought you were so needy this quickly, barely even touched you yet and you’re going feral.”

Y/n let out a whimper causing Paige to chuckle as her tongue continued to explore the inside of her mouth with ease. “Trust me though I love your neediness this early on. Making it seem like you’ll die if I don’t touch you enough.”

“You know-” Paige whispered before breaking the kiss and moving on to y/n’s jaw and neck then lightly nibbling on to her ear. “I’ve thought about this so many times you have no idea. Everytime I step into that bar my mind goes crazy. I have had to stop myself from doing this earlier, but-”

She puts her mouth right on her ear and mutters, “If I knew you wanted me this badly I would’ve done this so much sooner, ma.”

She doesn’t even give Y/n the chance to catch her breath as she takes her hand again and guides her over towards the backseat of her car then swinging the door open and stepping aside.

“Lay down for me, ma,” she mumbled, pecking y/n’s lips gently while guiding her in. “Get as comfortable as you need to, want you to enjoy this.”

Y/n immediately settles down into the soft black leather seat before tossing around for a little bit until she found a position she preferred.

Paige quickly landed between her thighs and pulled the door shut. She hovers her body on top of hers, trapping y/n beneath her as she runs a palm up the side of her leg.

“You’re so beautiful, fuck. Can’t wait to ruin you.”

That short statement alone made y/n to moan loudly causing Paige to let out a chuckle. “You really are desperate for my touch are you?”

“Yes-Yes I am. Please touch me.” she whispered before Paige lightly pinched her inner thigh.

“I am touching you, ma. Can’t you feel my fingers running across your pretty thighs, hm? Or did you want me to touch somewhere else, huh?”

“How about here?” She placed her fingertips on her stomach causing y/n to aggressively shake her head, “No-no not there…maybe here?” She then dragged her fingers towards her lower abdomen.

“Getting closer, huh? How about, right here.” Her fingers finally made their way towards y/n’s clothed clit with a rough slap earning an even louder moan from her lips. “Fuck, ma. Can feel your wetness through your leggings…Christ-have you been this wet since you saw me?”

She nodded her head eagerly as Paige started rubbing slow, teasing circles against her. “Can’t believe I got you this worked up-barely did anything was so respectful, then you surprise me with this? Fuck me...”

Paige leaned in and kissed her once more wanting to taste her moans and feed off her desperation. She breaks away from the kiss then starts tugging on her leggings, “Can I take these off you, ma? Wanna feel your dripping pussy rub against me so fucking bad.”

All Y/n could do was whine out in response as she motioned her head up and down quickly, craving her touch more than she needed oxygen to breathe. Once Paige got her approval she was gentle but eager to get her bottoms off. The second she pulled them down she couldn’t help but let out a groan at the wet patch very visible on her pretty little pink panties.

“Lord, ma, you soaked through your panties…” She mumbled while rubbing harder and feeling y/n’s wetness increase more and more with each circle of her finger. Watching her fall apart beneath her with just a few flicks of her index and middle finger across her sensitive clit was a sight that Paige was definitely never gonna be able to get out of her mind.

Paige gently moved her drenched panties to the side and held it there using her other hand. She let out a moan of her own at the sight of y/n’s wet and throbbing clit right there on display for her. Paige began slowly but surely thrusting her finger in and out loving the wet noises of y/n’s pussy filling up the car. After she felt her relax a bit she stuck another one into her before leaving a kiss below her jaw.

“More” y/n whispers faintly, “Please-more..”

“More, ma?” she echoes before adding the third finger, “Fuck you really are needy. Already got my two fingers working now you need another one? So filthy.”

“Paige..So close, please..” y/n moans, arching her back further as Paige increases the speed of her fingers and uses her thumb to rub her puffy clit until she reaches her high.

“Gonna cum, ma? C’mon, give it to me, you know how badly I wanna taste it…Be a good girl and cum for me.”

That was all y/n needed to cum. Before she knew it she was making a mess on Paige’s fingers-and most likely her car seat too-as her body shook and her thighs twitched while Paige slowly removed her soaking wet fingers out from her entrance and into her mouth, moaning at the taste.

“So sweet, mama, could taste you all day, I swear.” she mumbled, causing y/n to let out a quiet whimper as she tried calming down from her high.

“Thank you.” y/n whispered, as Paige leaned down attaching their lips together once more while she pulled her panties up for her.

“You did so good, ma.” she praised, helping her sit back up straight as she stroked her bare thigh. “I was thinking, I’d love to do this again, but only if you’re down of course-”

“Yes, I am definitely down to do this again.” she interrupted quickly, offering her a smile causing Paige to chuckle and peck her on the lips.

“That’s a good girl.”

-

[libraryofgage]

Pirate/Mermaid Steddie One

There is way more mermaid culture world-building than I intended, but that's the fun part lmao

This part discusses injuries, has a mention of mutilation in passing, and involves stitching up a large wound. Nothing is graphic, but there are some descriptions of pain

Let me know if you'd like to be tagged in future parts!

As always, if you see any typos no you didn't

----

There were a few things Eddie expected from this raid. Gold, of course. Supplies like food, obviously. Some new weapons, surely.

A fucking mermaid? Nowhere near that list of expected things.

And yet, here he stands in the doorway of the raided ship captain's cabin, caught in a staring contest with a merman that's definitely seen better days.

He's stuck in a tiny wooden tub, his tail forced against his chest as the rest of it flops over the edge and trails the floor. His blue-and-green with inexplicable hints of orange scales are dull, too dull, and Eddie is trying really hard to control the sheer rage he feels at the jagged cut that drags down the middle of the tail and through the fin at the bottom. The edges of the wound have crusted over, but it still looks painful, and Eddie knows it was meant to keep the merman from using his tail to escape.

Eddie takes a step into the cabin, ready to just scoop the merman up and take him back to his ship. But he stops when the merman tenses, his entire body somehow becoming more rigid. His hands on the edge of the tub tighten, his sharp nails digging into the slowly rotting wood. He's staring at Eddie like he's some new threat, which seriously is not gonna help with the whole "take the gorgeous merman with incredible hair and alluring brown eyes back to his ship and nurse him back to health" thing.

Eddie freezes and holds his hands up. "Sorry," he says, keeping his voice low and soothing. The merman doesn't relax much, but his nails are no longer digging into the wood. Eddie figures that's a tiny win.

"I'm Captain Eddie of the Corroded Coffin. We didn't expect to find you here, sweetheart."

The nickname just slips out, an unthinking attempt to butter the merman up and an admission of his own thoughts. The merman's eyes narrow, slowly looking Eddie over as though sizing him up.

Eddie lets him, perfectly content with standing still if it means the merman will give him even one iota more of his trust. "That doesn't look very comfortable," he says, nodding to the tub. "Would you like some help?"

The merman relaxes a little more, and Eddie has no clue what he did to cause that. Before he can think too much about it, the merman points to a dresser on the other side of the room, looking at Eddie expectantly.

"You want something from there?"

The merman nods, which tells Eddie he at least understands human language. That doesn't give him any idea if the merman can speak it, though.

He walks over to the dresser and looks at the merman, pointing to each drawer in turn until the merman nods. The fourth drawer is, apparently, the correct one. When Eddie opens it, he finds a small treasure trove. It must be a collection of trophies from the ship captain's previous raids.

A quick glance reveals a gold crown with rubies, several diamond rings, a few silver bracelets with various gemstones along the bands, and a pearl and seashell necklace thrown on top. Eddie knows the merman probably wants that necklace most, but he can't help thinking of a rumor that mermaids like shiny things.

The drawer is full of shiny things.

He hesitates for less than a second before pulling out the entire drawer itself and turning around. "I'm not sure what you want from here," he lies, smiling apologetically at the merman. "Can I come close enough to show you?"

The merman stares at him before slowly nodding once, suspicion practically radiating off of him. Eddie flashes a more genuine smile and slowly approaches, giving the merman enough time to reject his presence. When he's a few steps away, Eddie crouches and tilts the drawer so the merman can see what's inside.

Immediately, the merman reaches out and snatches the pearl and seashell necklace. The gills on the side of his neck flutter slightly as he puts it on, and Eddie wonders if that's a sign of relief. "Was that everything you wanted?" he asks.

The merman glances at him, one hand still lingering on the necklace. He glances down at the drawer again, seeming to argue with himself before reaching out and removing the crown and every bracelet. He carefully slips the bracelets on and clutches the crown in his hands.

"Anything else?" Eddie asks, his tone indulgent. It must be reassuring, though, because the merman looks at him with curiosity more than anything else. It's like he's trying to figure out what he can get away with.

A few seconds pass before the merman glances down at the drawer. His gaze lingers at the edges, and Eddie starts to wonder what could possibly be there when the merman points at one of his rings.

Eddie blinks, following the merman's finger to a chunky ring. It's shaped like a bat with emeralds for eyes and diamonds for teeth. It's one of Eddie's favorites; he found it on his first raid, took it right off the captain's hand himself. Nobody has ever dared ask to touch it, let alone have it.

Without a second thought, Eddie puts the drawer down, slips the ring off his finger, and offers it to the merman. It sits in the palm of his hand, meaning they'd have to touch if the merman really wants it that badly.

Slowly, the merman reaches for the ring, his nails tickling against Eddie's palm as he takes it. From the light brush against Eddie's fingers, the merman's skin is cool, exactly like jumping into the ocean on a hot day.

----

Steve is a firm believer in the power of small comforts, especially as it relates to the growth of his guppies. Dustin has long outgrown his baby tail belt, but he still wraps it around his wrist every morning. El and Will no longer need the seaweed and coral dolls Steve made for them when they were barely able to swim a straight line, but they still tuck them in every night.

So, when the human (Eddie, Steve reminds himself) offers up a drawer filled with shiny jewelry, Steve doesn't hold himself back. The bracelets make him feel grounded, the crown gives him something to clutch without the risk of breaking it, and the ring...

Well, the ring was more to see if Eddie's actions would match his tone. And because Steve thought it was fascinatingly grotesque. What kind of creature would have wings without feathers? Sure, the gulls he sometimes sees near the surface are confusing, but the ring depicts something even further beyond his imagination. What's up with the sharp teeth? Why must the eyes be green? Does it know it's a freak of nature?

Anyway, the jewelry helps. Steve uses it to distract himself from the sheer agony screaming from his tail when Eddie lifts him out of the cramped tub. He thinks about which bracelet he'll give to which guppy (Robin will get the crown) when the edges of his tailfin graze against Eddie's legs as he confidently walks across a plank connecting the two ships. He closely studies the featherless wings on the ring to avoid thinking about what's to come when Eddie sets him down on a large, surprisingly comfortable bed in another private cabin and starts gathering a needle and thread.

There's not much left to distract him when Eddie kneels next to the bed and looks up at him, his eyes reminding Steve of his guppies when they've done something bad and need him to clean up the mess.

"This is gonna hurt," Eddie tells him, his voice soft and gentle and full of regret as he grabs a bottle from the table next to the bed.

The liquid inside is clear, and Steve would think it was water if his nose hadn't been hit with such an astringent scent when Eddie opened it. Before he can fully process the smell, Eddie tips the bottle and pours the liquid onto Steve's tail.

An involuntary screech rips out of his throat, a burning sensation clawing along the cut and making his scales buzz. Without thinking, Steve grabs Eddie's wrist and yanks it away, his lips pulled back in a snarl that reveals sharp teeth. Despite the physical pain, Steve thinks the worst part is that he let himself get distracted by small comforts and warm brown eyes and Eddie's soft voice.

He should know better.

"Shit," Eddie mutters, quickly dropping the now-empty bottle to the floor. It cracks but doesn't break, and he looks up at Steve. "I should've explained that better. Holy fuck, I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I had to clean it. If I sewed it up without doing so, it might get infected."

Steve narrows his eyes, his grip tightening briefly as he studies Eddie's face. He seems genuinely apologetic, and Steve understands his intentions once he's processed Eddie's words. Steve had to do something similar when Mike and Lucas bothered a shark too much. Their wounds weren't nearly as bad as Steve's, but they'd still cried and shouted when Steve and Robin had to pull teeth and bits of coral out of their wounds before wrapping them in seaweed.

"I'm done with that part, though," Eddie says, his voice practically desperate for Steve to understand. "You can squeeze my shoulder or something while I sew it up."

A few seconds pass before Steve nods once, slowly letting go of Eddie's wrist. As Eddie starts threading the needle, Steve places his hand on his shoulder, bracing himself for the upcoming pain by squeezing the crown in his other hand.

Eddie takes a deep breath as he glances up at Steve. He licks his lips, looking back at the top of the cut. "Okay, I'm starting now," he says, waiting long enough to see Steve nod before starting the first stitch.

The alcohol hurt. The stitching is a fucking bitch. But, honestly, none of it is as bad as when that first disgusting human dragged a dagger through Steve's tail. He still hisses, gripping Eddie's shoulder tighter and unable to stop his nails from digging into his skin. Despite how it must hurt, Eddie doesn't flinch, and Steve feels a little better.

"You know," Eddie says, mostly focused on keeping his hand steady and his stitches even, "I wish I knew your name. I can't keep calling you sweetheart."

He could. Steve wouldn't mind it. But he also knows it isn't entirely fair that Eddie doesn't know he can speak. They'll need to be able to talk, Steve thinks, if they're going to be around each other for a while longer.

And Eddie has been kind enough that Steve wouldn't mind being around him for however long it takes his tail to heal.

"Steve," he says.

To his credit, Eddie doesn't drop the needle. He does tense for a moment, his hand pausing as he looks up. "What?" he asks.

"My name. It's Steve."

"You can talk."

"Why wouldn't I?"

Eddie hums, looking back at the cut as he starts stitching again. "You didn't say anything before," Eddie says.

"The last human who saw me mutilated my tail," Steve replies.

"Fair. Is, uh, is your name really Steve?"

"That's the closest translation to your language."

"What's your name in your language?"

Steve hesitates for a moment before clearing his throat. He feels his gills flutter, trying to create the bubble pattern that accompanies his name as he lets out a rhythmic series of squeaks and clicks with a short hiss at the end.

A few seconds pass after he's done. And then Eddie nods once and says, "Steve it is. How'd you get caught, Stevie?"

Ignoring the slight urge to point out that Eddie said his name wrong, Steve frowns slightly. "One of my guppies got caught in that ship's net. I got them out but was caught myself."

"One of your...guppies?"

"Yes. You would call them...children, I think?"

Eddie has nearly reached the middle of Steve's tail by now, and his hand falters once more. "Children? Aren't you...a little young?"

Steve bristles, glaring at Eddie. He's heard that same question plenty of times from members of other pods before, and he's tired of it. "What does it matter if they are happy and healthy?" he asks.

"Sorry," Eddie whispers, glancing up at Steve. There's something he can't quite read in Eddie's eyes. "Do you raise them alone?"

"What? No, of course not. My partner, Robin, raises them with me. We have seven guppies, with an eighth on the way."

"An eighth?!" Eddie asks, sounding strained as he pauses his stitching once more to look up at Steve. "Shit, man, shouldn't you give Robin a break?"

Steve blinks, tilting his head slightly. "Why would she need a break?" he asks.

"She's already popped out seven!"

Suddenly, Steve realizes what the disconnect is. He blinks once more and dissolves into laughter. "Oh!" he says, the exclamation broken by a giggle as he tries to calm himself down. "No, no, she is my partner, not my mate. Besides, she doesn't even like mermen."

Eddie seems to relax at Steve's explanation, his shoulders dropping and his voice significantly lighter as he starts stitching again and says, "Oh, I see. Then whose kids are they?"

"Technically, they belong to the pod," Steve explains, gritting his teeth as Eddie reaches the tailfin. He feels warm all over, his nerves jumping and his scales feeling half-ready to just fall off. "Each pod has at least two caretakers. Mates have a guppy and let caretakers raise them while they focus on their own roles within the pod."

"Do you like being a caretaker?"

"Yeah," Steve says, managing a shaky smile despite the tugging on his tailfin and Eddie's fingers pressing against his scales. "They're my guppies. I'd drain the oceans for them."

"And, uh, what about your mate? Do they mind you being so...devoted to the guppies?"

It's not at all subtle, but Steve finds it oddly endearing nonetheless. He slowly exhales, forcing himself to loosen his grip on Eddie's shoulder. "I don't have one."

Just like before, Eddie seems to relax some at the answer. He also finishes stitching, tying off the thread with a secure knot before carefully cutting away the excess. "Well, uh, we'll get you healed up and back to your guppies as soon as possible," he says, looking up at Steve.

"It needs to be wrapped in kelp. And, uh, I'll need a tub. You know, with seawater."

Eddie nods along, flashing a reassuring grin. "Don't worry, Stevie, I'll get you anything you want," he promises.

"Anything?" Steve asks, leaning forward some as he tilts his head.

"I already gave you my favorite ring, sweetheart."

Steve glances down at said ring, wondering what about it could possibly make it Eddie's favorite. He can't immediately figure it out, but that doesn't change the sweet warmth and anticipation for the time he'll spend with Eddie that he suddenly feels.

[nhlclover]

𝐏𝐔𝐌𝐏𝐊𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐎 | 𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐍𝐍 𝐇𝐔𝐆𝐇𝐄𝐒

— cozytober masterlist !

summary: as you and quinn have a little pumpkin carving contest, a hidden talent of his emerges.

warnings: quinn being a bully (kidding but also not), halloween fluff!

word count: 1.59k

notes: fic number three of cozytober! also making it a headcanon that quinn would actually be a secretly elite pumpkin carver.

The sun was just beginning to set as you and Quinn stepped through the rows of pumpkins, your uggs crunching on the hay-strewn path. The air was crisp with that signature fall chill, and the scent of autumn leaves filled your senses. You loved this time of year—the cozy sweaters, the pumpkin-flavored everything, and, of course, the Halloween traditions. But what made it even better was doing it all with Quinn. It was your first fall that you were spending with Quinn and you were elated to do fall-themed coupley stuff with him.

Rows upon rows of bright orange pumpkins stretched out in front of you. Quinn’s hands were shoved deep into the pockets of his jacket, his breath coming out in little white clouds.

“Think this one has potential?” you ask, nudging a round, medium-sized pumpkin with your boot.

“It’s… okay,” Quinn says, you snorting at his pickiness around pumpkins. “It’s a perfectly average pumpkin.”

“Alright, buddy,” you say, rolling your eyes and picking the pumpkin off the ground. “I’m taking it.”

You continue on, stepping over rogue vines, while Quinn scans the patch for the perfect pumpkin. Finally, Quinn picks one—big, smooth, and almost annoyingly perfect. Of course, he would. Meanwhile, yours is a little less flawless, but it has character, you tell yourself. It’s smaller, but round with just the right amount of wonky.

Once back at your place, you both set up at the kitchen table, spreading out newspapers and pulling out carving tools. Quinn insists that you carve in secret—“so we can do a big reveal at the end,” he says, waggling his eyebrows like this is some high-stakes challenge. You agree, slightly amused by how into this he’s getting.

The kitchen is filled with the sound of scraping, slicing, and your occasional grunt of frustration as you work on your pumpkin. The strong scent of pumpkin guts filled the air as the two of you worked side by side, throwing the seeds and pulp into a bowl. Every now and then, Quinn would glance over at you, trying to sneak a peek at your progress.

“Hey! No peeking at my masterpiece,” you scolded, pointing your spoon at him.

Quinn held his hands up in surrender, a smirk on his lips. “Alright, alright, sorry. I’ll wait.”

You go for one of those basic patterns—the triangle eyes, a jagged smile. It was simple, but you figured it was foolproof. Quinn, on the other hand, seemed focused, too focused, as he meticulously worked on his pumpkin. His brow was furrowed in concentration, tongue poking out slightly in the way it did when he was deep in a thought.

“Almost done over there?” Quinn calls from his side of the table, sounding suspiciously confident.

“Almost,” you lie, frantically trying to smooth out the jagged lines that seem to get worse the more you touch them.

After what feels like forever, Quinn finally announces, “Alright, the moment of truth. Ready?”

You hesitate, glancing down at your pumpkin. It’s…well, it’s not your best work. The eyes are uneven, the smile is crooked, and the whole thing is more ‘lumpy blob’ than ‘spooky jack-o-lantern.’ “How about you go first.” you suggest, hoping that Quinn’s carving will make you feel better about your own.

Quinn turned his pumpkin around with a dramatic flourish. And you froze.

“Oh my god,”

Quinn has somehow carved an intricate scene—Jack Skellington and Sally, perfectly etched into the smooth orange skin of his pumpkin. The detail is incredible, down to the stitching on Sally’s dress and the eerie grin on Jack’s face. It’s from your favorite movie, The Nightmare Before Christmas.

“How did you—?” you stammer, still staring at it in disbelief.

Quinn rubs the back of his neck, looking oddly proud of himself. “I know it’s your favorite, so I figured I’d give it a shot.”

Your heart squeezes. He knew. He remembered. “It’s amazing,” you say softly, still staring at the pumpkin like it’s a masterpiece in a gallery. “Seriously, Quinn, this is…it’s perfect.”

He grins, his usual cocky confidence flickering in his eyes. “Yeah? You like it?”

“Like it? I love it.”

But then you glance down at your pumpkin — your sad, lopsided creation — and suddenly feel a wave of embarrassment. Compared to Quinn’s masterpiece, yours looks like it was carved by a five-year-old.

“Alright, your turn.” Quinn says, urging you to turn around your pumpkin to display your artwork.

“Nah, that’s okay, I think this one ought to go in the compost.” you joke, picking it up and turning to take it out to the bins.

“Hey, hey, no backing out now,” he says, pulling you back to him. “Let’s see it.”

You sigh, placing it back on the table and reluctantly turning it to face Quinn. You hold your breath, bracing for the teasing you know is bound to happen.

To his credit, Quinn tries. He really does. He looks at your pumpkin, his lips twitching as he fights the urge to laugh. You see it in his eyes, the struggle to hold back, but after a second, he just can’t help it and he bursts out laughing.

You cross your arms, fighting a smile. “You’re mean”

“No, no, I’m sorry,” Quinn says between laughs, holding his hands up in surrender. “It’s cute! It’s, uh—” he pauses, still chuckling. “It’s unique. Yeah, that’s the word.”

You narrow your eyes at him, but you can’t help but laugh too. “Yeah, ‘unique.’ That’s what people say when they don’t want to say it’s bad.”

He steps around the table and nudges you with his elbow, his laughter fading into a softer smile. “Hey, I’m serious. It’s cute. I mean, I wasn’t expecting you to carve, like, Michelangelo or anything.”

“Gee thanks, I’m glad you kept your expectations low for me,” you say, rolling your eyes.

“Hey, hey,” Quinn says in a soft tone, stepping behind you and wrapping his arms around your torso. “It’s actually really cute… in a kind of dopey way.”

You snort, pushing out of your boyfriend's grasp, going back to Quinn’s pumpkin that you can’t help but admire. “Whatever, at least we have a cute pumpkin to display.”

“Yeah… you know I think I’ve found my true calling.” Quinn joked.

You raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Pro pumpkin carver instead of pro hockey player? Bold career shift,” you quipped, crossing your arms and giving him a playful look.

Quinn shrugged dramatically, eyes twinkling. “The heart wants what it wants, babe. Sure, scoring goals is fun, but nothing beats the thrill of carving cartoon characters into a gourd.”

You burst out laughing, the sound filling the cozy kitchen. “Right, because that's totally the dream: trading in ice skates for carving tools.”

He stepped closer, slipping his arms around your waist again, pulling you into him with a smirk. “Hey, don’t underestimate me. Maybe I could be the first dual-career athlete and pumpkin carving champion.”

You couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across your face. “I can see it now—‘Quinn Hughes: NHL star by day, pumpkin Picasso by night.’”

“Now that is a title I could get behind,” he said, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. His playful grin softened as his lips lingered for a moment. "But really, this was a good night. You’re a pretty great carving partner, you know?”

You smiled up at him, warmth spreading through you as you rested your hands on his chest. “I’d say the same about you, but I think you might have stolen the spotlight.”

Quinn chuckled, the sound vibrating through his chest. “How about we light these suckers up and see how they look in the dark?”

You grab the package of tea lights that you’d purchased from the Dollar Store earlier that day, placing them in the middle of your pumpkins and lighting them, before flicking off the kitchen lights. The small flame illuminates the inside of your pumpkins, fully showing off the designs.

“How does it look worse in the dark?” you groan, Quinn chuckling softly.

“I think it has… a rustic charm. Like, it’s so bad, it’s good.”

You roll your eyes, nudging him with your elbow. “You’re terrible. But fine, it can stay.” You step back, admiring his intricate carving of Jack and Sally, illuminated now in a way that makes it feel almost magical. The soft candlelight flickers, casting shadows that give Jack’s face a slightly sinister edge while Sally looks hauntingly beautiful.

A thought suddenly pops into your head, and you turn to Quinn, eyes lighting up. “Alright, we have to watch Nightmare Before Christmas now. It’s basically a requirement after this,” you say, gesturing to his pumpkin. “You can’t just carve Jack and Sally and not watch the movie. That’s sacrilegious.”

Quinn grins, stepping closer to you. “You sure you’re not just looking for an excuse to cuddle up and watch your favorite Halloween movie?”

You smirk, raising an eyebrow at him. “Maybe… but you’re the one who set the mood with this carving, so really, it’s your fault.”

He chuckles, shaking his head as he pulls you into a warm embrace. “Alright, alright, I’ll take the blame. But you’re in charge of making popcorn. I’ll go put these on the porch.”

“Deal,” you say, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before slipping out of his arms.

As you head to the kitchen to grab popcorn, you feel a rush of warmth and contentment. This was exactly what you’d imagined—a perfect fall night even if your pumpkin didn’t turn out exactly how you’d hoped.

[servicpop]

CURRENTLY VIEWING : slightly obsessive deliquent oc x good student male!reader

「ㅤSFWㅤ」ㅤbandaging up your (almost) bf adrien after a bad fight!

✙ warnings — mention of violence / blood / slight homophobia / slight suggestions of stalking or obsession

notes ,, first actual writing post... hope you guys like it "

Adrien and you lived two worlds. You were a model student, perfect in every way, whereas Adrien was nothing but a deliquent who skipped all his classes and failed all of his subjects (except for sports). If you two were so different, how did you end up together?

It started with an exchange of glances when you both started your first year of being a senior, somehow your presence was never known by Adrien until that one glance turned into never ending eye-contact, briefly smiling at eachother as you two met eyes from across the courtyard. His heart felt like it was about to crumble whenever you smiled at him. Your lips, your perfectly imperfect teeth shining at him. He had definitely fallen for you.

But how would his friends feel if they knew he was crushing on another guy?

As much as he wanted to hide it he couldn't. Everytime he went home and sat down in his chair, he would be welcomed with your face in the form of printed pictures stored in his top drawer. He knew it was wrong but he couldn't help it, you were so attractive you reeled him in like a fish. But somehow. Somehow. You and him talked more and more, exchanged numbers, hung out a few times and even brushed hands once! Adrien for sure didn't wash his hand after that. You weren't confirmed to be dating but it sure seemed like it.

And that was the start of Adrien's fall for you.

It was around 5:00pm, the sun still shining brightly but casted a slight orange hue into the empty council room, indicating that sunset would near. You were currently in said room, sorting the books, cleaning the tables, finishing off the work your teachers assigned you because you were such a good student. Yeah it was nice for them to rely on you but to be honest, all you wanted to do was go home but alas you couldn't.

Almost as if the universe pitied your unbearable boredom, the door to the council room clicked opened. At first you thought it was a teacher, but turning around you met the deep eyes of Adrien. His soulless eyes bore into yours, his knuckles dripping with blood as he stumbled into the room, almost collapsing on the couch.

"Got into another fight," He grumbled, his deep sultry voice reverberated in the room. Shit, his voice was hot. Snapping out of your thoughts, you quickly rushed over to him, viewing his bloody and bruised knuckles. It looked bad. Probably from beating the shit out of someone but you wouldn't question it. After some rummaging around you finally found the first aid kit, clicking the white box open before kneeling down infront of Adrien, a small smirk plastered his face.

"You don't have to you know? I just wanted—" Adrien's voice was cut out by a sharp hiss as you applied the alcohol to his wounds.

"Let me be a good friend to you."

Ooh... friend? That hit Adrien straight to the gut

"I just wanted company."

"Then your not allowed to hold my hand with those bloody knuckles."

"..."

"please bandage my fingers."

A wholehearted chuckle left your throat as you fished out the puppy patterned bandages around his knuckles, making sure you kissed each and every knuckles after. Just to make sure that there was no lingering pain of course, not because you two were had something for eachother or anything. You looked up at Adrien to see a small smile on his face, he was always so serious looking and whenever he smiled it was usually the shit eating grin type of smile. You had only really grown closer with him for a few weeks now so... why were you already hooked on him?

"You lost in thought?" He asked, snapping you out of your little trance. You shook your head, and he brought your chin up to meet his in a light kiss, his calloused fingertips gripping your chin lightly while his other hand found solace in your own. It was something straight out of a romance movie, his warm fingers against yours, his lips against your soft ones in such a gentle kiss. You never knew deliquents could be this gentle. Pulling away you wiped your lips and tugged your hands from Adrien's. You weren't dating him. You can't do this. You turned your head a pout adorned your lips, "Don't just casually kiss me," you huffed.

"But I know you liked it." Adrien hummed.

extra notes ,, I didn't have a full goal for what relationship reader and Adrien would have but i really liked the enemies to lovers sort of denial trope. I also experimented with the colour coding of the text, I find it easier to identify when they're speaking but let me know your preferences! I'm a bit nervous posting this since its my first time ever posting on tumblr but yeah! Also no smut yet, still getting warmed up you know

[synthetickitsune]

Seungkwan (SVT) | Golden hour fluff | 0.8k | gn!reader

”You look like the sun,” you chuckle when you see your boyfriend kneeling on the sofa. He’s taking pictures of the sunset through the open window, but the golden rays make it seem like his hair is glowing. Like he is glowing. A star fallen into your living room. He turns towards you with a playful pout but soon returns to his task, set on taking the perfect picture.

You cross the room, a little quicker now. The perspiration on the cool glass is starting to slide down the glasses of lemonade and you make it a game for yourself of not getting the floors wet. You make it. Taking out the lemon-themed coasters, you think it’d be nice to have more variants of different fruits to match your drinks. 

You voice the thought aloud to Seungkwan, making him smile and turn towards you.

“We can find some. There will be plenty online,” he says while he sits down next to you. He shows you the picture he took. It’s perfect and you tell him so, earning a grateful kiss to your cheek.

The room is bathed in a warm glow. The walls look like they’re dripping gold, oozing honey. You lean back into the pillows and take it all in. The breeze blows in gently and carries the voices of people on the street and the rustling of leaves in the wind. Seungkwan, having already diligently documented the scene outside, watches you instead. Then he pulls up his phone again to take a picture of you too.

“That’s not gonna be much of a masterpiece,” you hum, turning your face towards him.

“Wrong,” he smirks and proudly turns his phone towards you. He already changed his lockscreen to the picture he just took. You laugh. It could be worse. “See?”

“All I see is that my boyfriend has a talent for photography,” you lean closer to him and kiss him. 

“You’re my muse,” he whispers against your lips before pulling away and taking his glass of the cool drink. He praises the taste like it’s not the easiest drink to make. 

“Oranges would be better. They’d match the color more,” he ruins it right after and points to deeper shade on the walls.

“Sure, maybe tomorrow. If the nice weather lasts, we can have a whole photoshoot here,” you tease only a little, you really mean it for the most part.

Seungkwan’s eyes twinkle either way as he immediately leans against you and starts motioning around the room, telling you all about his vision. Somehow you think it’s been on his mind for a while. You wonder if he’d ever suggest it himself.

You listen to him, and you must admit his ideas sound wonderful. At some point, however, all you register is his voice and the light. Sunlight paints him to be a statue with golden cracks where the rays filter into the room. He really might as well be a fallen star that found its home in your apartment. It could be him that illuminates the entire room. His voice only helps the daydream develop. No mere human could sound so nice. 

You barely, no - you simply don’t realize that your body starts slumping against your boyfriend's. He's quite comfortable, and comforting even more so. Your body fits so nice against his, so naturally like it’s meant to be. You bask in his glow. He must be a guardian angel sent to you.

But while you don't realize, Seungkwan has noticed your absent-minded gaze quite some time ago. He knows you tend to get lost in your own head sometimes and doesn't get concerned anymore. Although he is curious what you're thinking about when you lean against him. Slowly he stretches his arm and lets it rest around your shoulders. You don't startle, you don't even notice. He continues speaking without giving into the temptation to call you cute and squish your cheeks. He gets the same reaction - or lack of - when he begins playing with your hair.

Eventually though, you come to. With a cute confused hum and loving smile.

“Where did you go?” Seungkwan coos at you.

“I just thought about how happy you make me,” you snuggle closer to him, hugging his waist. Your head fits perfectly into the crook of his neck. He stutters a little.

“Bet you weren’t even listening to me,” he mumbles under his breath and you know he’s just trying to hide that even after all this time you still make him shy. So you repeat his words to him, at least what you did catch, and it’s enough to drive him into a corner. “Not fair.”

You laugh, pecking his neck and rubbing your nose on the skin of his throat. He wonders aloud why you are so affectionate suddenly, but you stay quiet - you already told him anyway.

“I’m really happy with you too,” he whispers after a beat of silence, hugging you closer, “Very happy.”

And so you sip your lemonades and watch the sunset together. It might not seem like much, but you like this little life.

[charmandabear]

La Douleur Exquise

Pairing: Astarion/f!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 2.9k

Tags: mildly dubious consent, thigh riding, dry humping, vampire bites, blood drinking, fear play, degradation, modern au

Summary:

You never hook up with strangers you meet in clubs. And this one is a vampire? This may just be the worst night of your life. Or maybe the best. It's hard to say.

An adaptation of @ogyscrypt's erotic audio, "Wait... you like being drained?" The second I heard this I couldn't get Astarion out of my head. Chaboi's vampire kink is STRONG, y'all.

And thank you so much to @wicked-well for letting me use your gorgeous render for the header, it fits too fucking perfectly 🥵

You’re unsure if it’s the thumping bass of the music, or the rakish way he smiled at you from across the bar, or the buzz of alcohol flowing through your veins. Under any other circumstances, you’d be significantly more cautious. Yet here you are, stumbling out of a club with the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen attached to your lips. You paw desperately at his black button down, grabbing his collar to pull him into you. His scent is even more intoxicating than the whiskey sours you’ve been pounding all night – something sweet, herbal and citrusy. If you have any sense, you’ll ask him the name of it.

But that’s not what matters right now.

All that matters is the feel of his body as he presses you up against the brick wall in the alley beside the club. The orange glow from the streetlamps make his white curls almost look golden, the silver hoops in his pointed ears sparkling in the low light. The fingers of his left hand are hooked in your belt loop while the right is tangled in your hair, teasing at the possibility of pulling without giving into the temptation.

He breaks the kiss but keeps his lips close to yours as you both pant heavily, brains addled by lust and blood pounding in your ears. He chuckles, a low rumbling sound that makes your pussy tingle, and flashes that devastating smile.

“Don't get shy now, darling,” he purrs, lightly brushing his fingers over your exposed midriff and sending goosebumps down your arms. “Slide a hand into my shirt, slide a hand into my pants, be adventurous!” He returns his lips to yours, breathing through the kiss, “believe me, I do not mind.”

You take his advice, your fingers fumbling at his buttons and revealing his lean, sculpted chest. His shirt falls open and he rests his forearm on the brick behind you, the delicate silver chain around his neck swinging gently. He effectively has you trapped, and when he widens his smile just enough for two fangs to pop out, you press your lips together to catch the whimper before it escapes.

“V-vampire,” you croak, all sense of logic immediately flushed from your mind. You know that you should be terrified, that you should try to escape, but somehow learning this little fact about your nightclub stranger has only turned you on more.

“Very astute, love, well done,” he sneers, and the sarcasm in his voice makes your throat go dry. “Don't worry, I've known a few people who are into it.” He takes a finger and gently runs it down the side of your face. “I have a way of finding people who are attracted to my… oddities.”

Your tongue subconsciously darts out of your mouth to wet your lips and he lets out a long, contented sigh.

“I do believe you're a special case, however,” he continues breathily, sending a shiver through your core. “I believe that you and I,” he moves his knuckle under your chin and tilts your face up to meet his, “are going to get on like a house on fire. Now come here.”

He fiercely resumes the kiss, grabbing you tightly around the waist and pressing his palm to the skin of your lower back. You slide your fingers through his curls and pull him closer, desperate to feel every inch of him. You turn your head to the side as his lips travel down your jaw and onto your neck, pressing sloppy kisses along the way. This time you're more than happy to let your little noises of pleasure leave your lips, and you can feel him smiling against the sensitive skin below your ear.

“Oh, so you like neck kisses? Well, that’s a given, everyone likes neck kisses,” he giggles as he continues to tease you with featherlight licks and nips. “And I happen to be somewhat of an expert in the art of love bites.”

He captures your skin between his blunted front teeth and worries at the skin, shooting a stinging pain through you. His tongue laps at the tender flesh between his teeth, suckling at it without drawing blood. The overwhelm of sensations sends jolts of lightning through your core and stars dance across your field of vision. Just when the prolonged pain almost becomes too much to bear, he pulls off your neck with a wet pop and leans back to admire his work.

“Just beautiful,” he breathes, running a finger delicately over the purpling flesh. His eyes sharply meet yours as he says with a devious smile. “And don’t think I didn’t hear that moan.”

Your cheeks grow hot as your insatiable lust for this complete stranger – this vampire, a predator that you should absolutely be terrified of – gives you away. But there’s no turning back now. You lick your lips and let your gaze linger on his fangs for a moment before bringing it back up to those crimson eyes. “I like the feel of it,” you whisper, your voice cracking slightly.

“I’m glad,” he says airily before leaning in close to your ear. “Even if it does hurt, just a touch. But the best things do, don’t they?” He grazes his fangs along the thumping artery in your neck, your blood rushing to your head in a mix of arousal and fear. “Every last one of them.”

You can barely rasp out the “please” fast enough before he plunges his teeth into you, the feel of icy shards seizing up the left side of your body. You should be frightened by the pain, but instead it melts into a sublime numbness that sends a rush of adrenaline through your heart. La douleur exquise – exquisite pain. You never fully understood the phrase until this moment.

That’s to say nothing of the obscene noises the man is making. As he sucks long, greedy pulls of your blood, his grunts and groans vibrate through your skin. His breathing grows erratic in your ear, every sigh of pleasure sending a shiver down your spine. He clutches you tightly, one hand protecting the back of your head from scraping against the rough stone. The gesture would almost be tender if he weren’t currently ravaging your neck and sucking your life force right out of you.

And yet… every little twitch he makes, his body pushing against yours as your blood begins to course through his veins, sends your desire to staggering new heights. The perfect pale skin of his chest flushes slightly, and you can’t be sure but you think you might see the front of his pants straining slightly. Perhaps it’s just wishful thinking. Your breathing speeds up as you twist beneath him, trying to get just an inch closer.

“Hold still,” he snarls as he pushes you harder up into the wall. Your breasts heave as your breathing grows shallow, pushing your cleavage into his warming skin. His grunts fall deeper into his chest, growing desperate and borderline animalistic. You’re beginning to lose your faculties as your survival instinct puts all of its resources into just staying conscious, and a wanton moan slips through your lips against your will.

He slows suddenly, his heavy breathing tickling the open wound on your neck before pulling away. “What was that?” he asks in a low voice, your brain swimming as your head lolls to the side. He taps your cheek quickly to bring your attention back to him. “What was that? What noise did you just make?” You did not think your heart could pound harder with the amount of blood you’ve already lost, but somehow you can hear it ringing in your ears. He glares at you dangerously, clearly waiting for an answer.

“What?” Your voice is small, shame and embarrassment mingling with lightheadedness as you try to parse exactly what he’s feeling.

“You heard me,” he spits. “What noise did you just make, darling?” You’re terrified that you’ve made him angry somehow, until a devilish smile curls his perfect bloody lips upwards. “It was a moan. You enjoyed that, didn’t you?” He grins like a cat who’s caught the canary. “Other side, now,” he orders, and you obediently turn your head as his fangs pierce the unsullied flesh and send a renewed sense of arousal ricocheting around your body. A desperate keen works its way out of you, high and needy.

His hand twists in your hair and your hips buck into him, yearning for relief. He pulls you tighter into him, and now you’re positive that you can feel his cock through his tight leather pants. You whimper as he continues to gulp down swallows of your blood, your limbs tingling and your cunt throbbing for him. He laughs into your neck before detaching himself, gently lapping at the gaping holes still pouring blood. He sighs contentedly, licking his lips like he had just indulged in the sweetest cherry pie.

“Just look at yourself. Grabbed by the hair, neck craned aside, in a literal back alley being bitten by a vampire,” he jeers, his tone growing derisive. “And here you are, given away by your little shakes of excitement. Moaning, wantonly, like a whore putting on a performance.”

You pout at him, unsure if you feel more resentful that he sees fit to insult you, or that you kind of like it. He sees the gears turning in your brain and he giggles, a high pitched tinkling sound and a far cry off from the terrifying predator he really is.

“Oh, are you mad at me calling you names?” he coos condescendingly. His wicked grin only grows, showing off your red dripping down his pointed canines. He takes your chin in his hand, examining you, as though he’s appraising the quality of a cut of meat. “I could tell that you were a good one the moment I smelled those broken blood vessels under the skin. The moment I realized that you bled so prettily.”

You press your back into the brick wall behind you, your body giving you signals to run while your cunt clenches around nothing. He runs his thumb over your lips and your tongue darts out to savor him in any way that you can. He slips the digit into your mouth and you suck desperately, wanting to please. His hand cups your jaw and he pulls your face in close to his, the scent of iron hot on his breath.

“Give me another kiss,” he whispers, popping his thumb out of your mouth. “Taste your scarlet crimson on my lips.” He pulls you in for another searing kiss, the salty metallic sharpness coating your tongue and setting off your fear response.

You slide your hands into those white curls with a surprising amount of fervor given how lightheaded you feel. He slides his knee between your legs, lifting you off your toes slightly, the pressure of his thigh giving you much needed relief from the dull throbbing in your cunt. You groan into his lips and deepen the kiss, desperate for him to devour you whole, and he chuckles at your enthusiasm.

“Why do I get the sense that you’ve been dreaming about this?” he purrs, running a finger down your neck and swiping a droplet of your blood. He daubs the red onto your lips and you whimper, your tongue hanging out of your mouth like a lovesick puppy. “Why else would someone react so needily?” You whine and squirm on his thigh, conflicting instincts within you simultaneously trying to convince you to try to escape while craning your neck towards him. He chuckles and licks a stripe up the holes in your neck, pulling a ghastly shiver out of you. “Isn’t this just precious, you pathetic little thing.”

You gasp, once again surprised that the insult causes something in your stomach to flip over. He dives into your neck again and your hands clutch the collar of his button down, pulling him as close as you can physically get. He growls rhythmically in your ear with each swallow of your blood, and you can practically feel his cock sliding in and out of you so strong is your arousal. You claw at his back as you ride his thigh, his ragged breath caressing your hairline and tearing increasingly embarrassing noises from your throat. The pressure building deep within your core signals to you that it won’t be long now, and if he keeps this up you might simply collapse on the spot.

He pulls away panting and you make a strangled noise of frustration at the loss of his fangs. He drags the tip of his tongue up your jaw, transferring a thin line of his spit mixed with your blood onto your skin. He presses his lips to your ear with a low chuckle. “I’ve never seen such positive reinforcement for my illicit behavior. And look at you, practically grinding yourself on my fucking leg.” His voice is scathing but colored by an undeniable tone of amusement.

“Please,” you whine, your lips barely able to form the words. You grasp at him weakly, fighting against the blood loss to beg him to keep drinking so you can finally feel any sort of release.

“Oh, were you about to come? Look at me, slut. Are you actually going to come?” He grabs your chin and forces you to focus your bleary eyes on him. A wicked grin spreads across his face. “Holy shit, you are. You're on the fucking edge, aren't you?”

“Please,” you repeat, your voice raspy. “Please let me, I’m so close, I just need–” He cuts off your begging with a sharp tug of your hair.

“Oh don’t you worry, I will. And here’s what’s about to happen.” He runs his lips over your ear, and his voice has the feel of velvet pushed against the grain. Soft, but still somehow wrong. “I’m going to drain you dry while you rut on my leg like a bitch in heat. And when I let you come, I want you to moan for me in that pretty way you do.” He pulls back and hits you with a piercing red stare. “But I want you crying out my name. And if you do, and if you’re good, I promise, this won’t be a one-time thing.” His eyes are borderline hypnotic, and you find yourself nodding before you realize you’re missing important information.

“And what’s your name?” you ask shakily. His smile widens enough for his pink-tinged fangs to pop out. He brings his lips back to your ear and you shudder.

“Astarion.”

Before you can even process the sound of his name he’s sunk his fangs into your neck once again and you cry out with the pain and pleasure. You paw desperately at his collar as you grind your cunt onto his leg, rapidly building yourself back up to climax. The feel of his tongue lapping at your flesh, the vibration of his satisfied groans, and his heavy breathing in your ear swirl in a sinful mixture of lust and hedonism. Your roll your hips, your slick folds rubbing together and working your clit as the heat begins to spiral outwards. Your little whimpers grow into whines and eventually into full on moans until you finally feel yourself at the edge.

He can feel it, too, and he grunts between gulps, “Good. Good girl. Come for me.”

It’s all you need. “Fuck, Astarion!”

The moment his name leaves your lips he pulls his fangs and leg away, holding you up only by your hair as the waves of your orgasm wrack through your body, the sight of his feral bloody grin only prolonging it that much further. As the ripples of your climax slowly subside, he unceremoniously lets go of you and you slump down the brick wall and onto the dirty ground. He crouches down over you, taking your chin in his hand and forcing your gaze on him.

“Blink twice if you don’t think you’re dying, love,” he coos, his voice almost gentle. You manage a woozy nod, and then very deliberately squinch your eyes shut twice. He giggles and gives your cheek a few taps. He rifles through your pockets until he finds your phone, and picks up a limp arm and forces the phone into your hand. “Unlock code, pumpkin.” You force yourself to tap out the numbers before letting your head roll back to the side.

He pulls up your contacts and hits the plus button. “If you feel like you’re about to pass out, call emergency services. But,” his gaze flicks up to you as he pauses between typing numbers. “Once you feel like you can stumble onto your feet and get home, call this number, and leave a message with your address.” He drops your phone in your lap and gives you another kiss, sensual, his now warm lips moving softly against your cold ones. “And at some point, when I feel like it, I’ll come ‘round to you. And we’re going to do this again,” he kisses you and you can already feel a spike of arousal moving through you. “And again.” Another kiss. “And again.” His lips are wet from your blood, and you shiver as he pulls away, the cool night air sweeping against your frigid limbs. He breathes against your lips, a waft of iron infiltrating your nose. “I’ll see you soon, darling.”

He stands, and as he begins to walk away, you can barely hear him mutter quietly under his breath, “

.” You smile weakly, unable to bring yourself to care that you’re crumpled and satisfied in a back alley, knowing that you’re getting just as much out of this deal as he is.

[berensteinsmonster]

Henry Ventriloquest, mirror reflection of Henry Stickmin

(reblogs help my posts be seen :)

Resident SILLIEST guy, a clever little trickster, one of Capt. Bailfalse's three evil henchmen, somehow everybody's friend, improbably reality bending funny man, and well known unkillable immortal. He's very aware of all these facts and is just living life to it's fullest, for the entertainment of himself of course.

My favourite thing is to talk abt VQ's opposite-ness to Sticks so here I goooo-! Primary details include the fact its color motif is orange, opposite to Sticks' associated blue. He's more sociable and talkative. And what else uhh oh yeah he literally CANNOT DIE how could he this toon runs on slapstick. It could be turned to ash or squashed by a truck and he'd still come out fine (with birds spinning around his head or perfectly okay, whichever he finds funnier as a result).

Misc details include: Since Sticks is animated by Flash, the opposite of that would be something hand drawn, which is (In-Universe) where VQ originated from. And Stickmin being mostly recognized for his eye design, so Ventriloquest has a misaligned eye condition. Both still function, but his left eye isn't as good as his right. He's learned to live with this disability ever since he was created.

//AN: When I talk about his origins, I can only speak about his disability using research. Feel free to send me any corrections about Strabismus because I really do want to keep this part of his character. He may act silly but he doesn't have misaligned eyes for that reason, he is just playing god which is unrelated

But he also works as Stickmin's reflection, just a silly guy here for the thrills with inguity to get themselves out of trouble. How they both don't care too hard about the consequences until it devastatingly affects them! — but that's hv au plot development for next time.

He plays the role that RHM would have, just being a powerhouse that can whip HRM's hiney at any given point. But the difference here is that Henry V is alot more affectionate and giddy during these beat down that he considers as playing, and is cartoonishly violent instead of lethally violent. RHM causes destruction as a means to an end, but Ventriloquest causes destruction because he loves it. He's a force of discordance....For the funny.

And if you ever cross or make fun of him he'll drop an anvil on your skull ^_^

[silverstonesainz]

stuck with me

─── the one where you’re people watching with lando frat!lando x reader (est. relationship)  1k words prompt: holding them in your lap (even if there's plenty of space/seats) + "you know you're stuck with me, right?" "thank god i am…"

d rambles. . . this was a whole lot of nothing. sorry about it.

friday night on greek row was always chaotic. the streets are a bit busier than normal with sorority women running house to house, scoping out the party with the most booze and the best music. and while not every fraternity is hosting tonight, phi gamma theta is.

the house is packed, which comes as no surprise to you. everyone loves phi gam. 

you squeeze past sweaty body, pushing against people who were trying to get into the kitchen. you just managed to grab yourself a drink after waiting ages for one. it’s the first party of the semester, so the amount of people at the house in the first hour of the night is a bit overwhelming. everyone was more than ready to get drunk at the expense of privileged boys living in the house— yourself included. 

you finally make it back to your boyfriend, who is on the couch in the living room talking to mick about god only knows what. you smile at the people seated around, waving and yelling quick hellos over the loud music. mick begins to move over to the other end of the couch, make a bit of space for you but lando stops him. 

“don’t worry mate, she’s got a perfectly good seat right here.” the boy pats his lap, to which both you and mick grimace. 

“gross,” the german boy mumbles. 

lando laughs as he reaches out for your hand, pulling you down onto his lap. you blush red, a little embarrassed but nonetheless you stay seated against him. you lean on the arm of the couch as opposed to your boyfriend’s chest, leaving yourself open to being part of the conversation in the group. it’s hard to converse over the loud blare of some edm mix, losing a bit of the pieces of mick’s first week and some girl’s stupid lab. you get bits and pieces of the puzzle before the blonde beside you grunts. he pushes himself off the couch. 

“i’ll be back, see who the fuck is in charge of the music.” 

mick saunters off, disappears in a mess of bodies. you turn a bit so that you can slide your arm around lando’s shoulder.  

“feeling alright?” lando says into your ear. you nod and smile as you feel his lips against your cheek. “wanna dance?”

“in a bit.” 

he nods, arm slipping around your waist as you both return to the conversation moving between the couches. the music shifts, all thanks to mick’s doing, but it’s still a bit hard to hear. the music might’ve changed but somehow the volume is still much too loud. it’s only a matter of minutes before the conversation fizzles away and people begin to melt into the chaos. some leave to dance, others to take their place at the pong table, and some into each other. 

you climb off lando’s lap, pulling him up with you. “c’mon. we’re getting me another drink.” 

he nods with a smile, lacing his fingers into yours and pulling you with him. moving about the house is easier with lando, people seem to always make a bit more room for him. you make it to the bar with ease, push past drunk brothers and girls you’ve never seen because it’s lando. the brit leans over the bar to speak to oscar, yells your drink for the younger member to mix. you can’t help the smile when you hear it, the flutter in your chest. tequila orange.

you watch oscar move about he bar, pulling at cups and bottles. lando stops him, grabs his wrist as he leans in. “not the cheap shit. use the one under the bar.” 

oscar nods without missing a beat, returning the half empty bottle of tequila to it’s original spot before lowering himself below the bar. you watch the way he and logan move about the small space with ease. how the other boy swipes the bottle to make a drink for someone else. it’s only a couple of seconds before oscar pops up and hands lando the new red cup for you. they have a brief conversation drowned out by the music before lando waves him off and is dragging you through the house. 

you find yourself stuck to lando, against his chest as he leans against the wall. you hum, sipping your drink as he leans down to point out people and faces unknown to you. he tells stories, like how pierre has been trying to get with some girl he’s currently dancing with for weeks. and how daniel is in denial over how hung up he is over the girl he claims not to be seeing. you giggle along, following along as the story changes from person to person, brother to brother. 

you make a face, nose scrunched as you catch sight of charles and some girl in the corner, lips locked and hands eager. you lean into lando, “who's that?” 

lando follows your gaze, stifling laughter as he shrugs. “never seen her before.” 

“what happened to….” you blank, lips stretching downwards, “… i forgot her name.” 

lando shrugs, “dunno. guess they’re done.” 

and then carlos passes by with his fingers laced with a blonde, and you almost ask lando but he’s quick to answer. “they’re on a break. she needed space so in carlos’s words… it’s fair game.” 

you nod, finishing off the rest of your drink. you look around the house, at the familiar and unfamiliar. you could almost laugh at the shift, the change and yet also the stagnancy of it all. faces, people, they come and go but the habits never seem to change. 

except you and lando. that won’t change.

you turn in lando’s arms, wrapping yours around his neck and he smiles down at you. “what?” 

you shake your head, stepping up onto the tips of your toes with a smile, “nothing its just… you know you’re stuck with me right?”

“thank god. i wouldn’t have it any other way.” lando grins and presses a kiss onto your lips.

“good. otherwise, i’d have to kill you.” 

he laughs, nodding as he presses another kiss to your lips. “noted.”

come to the house party!!

[roseyreveries]

Hunted

Bucky Barnes x Reader

Part Two <- click!

Summary: Hydra infiltrates SHIELD and takes control of Bucky again, setting the Winter Soldier on course to take out his target: you.

CW: Guns, Violence, Blood, Angst, not very movie accurate, the Avengers being weaker than usual for plot

Directory

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ .

The bass from the radio thrummed in time with my heartbeat as I belted out the lyrics to the song blaring from the speakers. My sister, Maggie, laughed beside me, swaying in her seat, her off-key voice matching mine perfectly. We’d done this a hundred times before—road trips, late-night drives, blasting karaoke-worthy tunes that never failed to lift our spirits. Today was no different; it was just us, the open road, and the kind of freedom that only a highway can bring.

I glanced over at Maggie, her face scrunched up in exaggerated concentration as she hit the high note, and I couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re killing it!” I shouted over the music.

“Please, you’re the one auditioning for a Grammy!” she shot back, winking at me.

The world outside was a blur of cars, the sun dipping low in the sky, painting the horizon in streaks of orange and pink. I felt alive, invincible. But then, out of nowhere, everything changed.

It happened so fast. One moment we were carefree, and the next, I was slamming on the brakes. A figure stepped onto the road, right in front of our car—a man with long dark hair, clad in black, his presence commanding the space like he owned it. But it wasn’t just anyone. It was Bucky Barnes.

My heart seized in my chest. His eyes locked onto mine through the windshield, cold and unyielding. I barely had time to register the large gun in his hands before he aimed it directly at us. My breath caught in my throat, the world around me slowing to a terrifying crawl.

“Holy shit!” Maggie screamed, her hands flying to the dashboard as if she could somehow shield herself from what was about to happen.

The next second, a loud bang echoed, piercing through the chaos of the traffic. I watched, helpless, as a disk shot from the barrel of Bucky’s gun, hurtling straight at us. It slammed into the underside of the car with a deafening thud, and before I could even process what was happening, the world exploded.

The blast sent a shockwave through the car, and we were airborne. The car flipped violently, the screech of metal against asphalt and the shattering of glass filling my ears. My body lurched against the seatbelt, the force knocking the wind out of me as the car tumbled. Up became down, and down became up—everything spinning in a disorienting blur of sound and pain.

My vision flickered, the interior of the car now a shattered mess of broken glass, smoke, and twisted metal. I tried to scream, to reach for Maggie, but my voice was lost in the cacophony. The car finally came to a bone-jarring stop, landing upside down on the road.

For a moment, all I could hear was the ringing in my ears. I blinked, the sharp taste of blood in my mouth, my mind struggling to catch up. Everything hurt—my head, my arms, my chest. My vision was blurred, but I turned to my right, my heart hammering wildly.

“Maggie!” I croaked, the word barely a whisper. She was hanging upside down in her seat, her eyes closed, a small trickle of blood running down her forehead. I reached out, my fingers brushing against her arm, desperately trying to shake her awake.

My hands trembled as I reached out to check Maggie for injuries. I forced myself to focus, pushing through the blinding panic. I ran my hands along her arms, her legs, feeling for breaks or dislocations. Her pulse was strong, steady under my fingertips— a small comfort in the midst of the wreckage. I checked her pupils, watched her chest rise and fall with each shallow breath, all the while praying she would open her eyes and tell me this was all a bad dream.

I knew what to look for— what signs meant danger and what was just superficial. Years of training kicked in, the muscle memory of countless missions and drills guiding me through every step. I wasn’t just a regular sister panicking in the aftermath of a crash. I was more than that, had been for a long time now.

Maggie didn’t know the truth. No one did. To everyone else, I was just me— the sister who sang too loudly, who drove too fast, who lived a life that was seemingly normal. But behind closed doors, under the cover of night and secrecy, I was something else entirely.

I was a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent. Not just any agent, either. I’d climbed the ranks quicker than anyone expected, my skills and determination earning me a seat at the table alongside the Avengers themselves. I’d worked operations so classified, most people wouldn’t even believe they existed. I’d been trained by the best, learned to fight, to strategize, to survive. And now, all of that training, all of those missions, came flooding back in a rush.

Maggie’s injuries were minor—cuts, bruises, a gash on her forehead that looked worse than it was. She’d be okay, at least physically. The relief was so overwhelming, I almost cried. But there was no time for that. I needed to get us out of here before Bucky— or whoever the hell he was working for— made another move.

I glanced outside, taking in the chaos around us. Bucky was still there, his expression as unreadable as ever, but he wasn’t alone anymore. Other figures moved in the shadows, closing in on the wreckage. I cursed under my breath. This wasn’t just a rogue attack; it was a full-blown ambush. And we were smack in the middle of it.

I reached for the hidden compartment in the console, the one Maggie didn’t know about. My fingers brushed the cold metal of my concealed weapon— a sleek, high-tech piece courtesy of Tony Stark himself. I’d been armed and ready, as always, just in case. I hadn’t expected to need it on a karaoke drive with my sister, but that was the life I led— the life no one knew about.

I checked the safety, my eyes flicking to Maggie once more. She was still unconscious, but she’d be okay. I had to believe that. I had to keep her safe, no matter what.

I eased myself out of the wreckage, gun in hand, and moved with purpose. The agents in the shadows were getting closer, and I recognized the insignia on their uniforms. Hydra. Of course. Bucky was working with Hydra— or maybe he was brainwashed again. I didn’t have time to figure it out; all I knew was that we were in serious danger.

Bucky’s eyes met mine, and for a split second, something flickered there. Recognition? Regret? I couldn’t tell. It didn’t matter. Right now, he was my enemy, and I had a job to do.

“Stay back!” I shouted, aiming my gun at the nearest Hydra agent. They hesitated, their eyes flicking to Bucky for guidance. My heart pounded, adrenaline surging through my veins. I was outnumbered, outgunned, but I’d been in worse situations. I knew how to handle myself. I knew how to fight.

And I was going to fight like hell to get Maggie out of this alive.

“Bucky,” I called out, my voice steady despite the chaos around me. “I don’t know what you’re doing, but they’re not in charge of you anymore. You’re safe, Buck.”

He hesitated, his grip tightening on his gun. The seconds stretched on, an unbearable tension hanging in the air. I didn’t know if he’d listen, if he even could. But I had to try. For Maggie. For all the people who’d counted on me to keep them safe.

For the person I used to believe Bucky was.

His gaze shifted, something softening in his expression. I held my breath, praying for a miracle. But just as quickly as it came, it vanished, replaced by the cold, unfeeling mask he wore so well.

“Move,” he ordered the Hydra agents, his voice flat, emotionless. The moment was gone. He wasn’t Bucky Barnes, the hero. He was the Winter Soldier. And there was no reasoning with him.

I steeled myself, my grip on the gun firm. If Bucky was going to make me fight, then I would. There was no turning back now.

I stepped forward, adrenaline surging through my veins, and fired the first shot. The Hydra agents scattered, their movements synchronized like a well-oiled machine. They fanned out, ducking behind cars and debris, their weapons raised. I squeezed the trigger again, aiming for the nearest target. The bullet hit its mark, sending the agent sprawling to the ground. But there were too many of them, and I was just one person.

The highway erupted into chaos— bullets whizzed past, shattering the remnants of glass around me. I ducked low, using the twisted metal of our car as cover, my mind racing to formulate a plan. There was no backup coming; it was just me against a small army. But I’d faced worse odds, and I wasn’t about to go down without a fight.

I darted out from behind the car, my movements fluid and precise. I fired off two more shots, dropping another agent before spinning to take cover behind a cement barrier. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a reminder that I was still alive, still fighting.

They kept coming, relentless and determined. I counted at least six, maybe more, their dark uniforms blending into the shadows of the wreckage. I fired again, hitting another in the shoulder, but the rest were closing in, tightening the circle around me. I moved quickly, pivoting and shooting, each motion a calculated effort to keep them at bay.

A bullet grazed my arm, the sharp sting slicing through the adrenaline. I hissed through clenched teeth, ignoring the pain. I had no time to bleed, no time to think. I fired again, but my gun clicked— empty. I ducked behind a nearby car door, my fingers fumbling for another clip, but I came up empty. I was out of ammo.

Shit.

I crouched behind the door, my breath coming in short, ragged bursts. My mind raced, calculating my next move. I could hear the Hydra agents regrouping, their footsteps growing louder, the sound of their weapons being loaded. I glanced down at my gun, flipping it open to confirm what I already knew— no bullets, no way out. My eyes darted around, searching for anything I could use, but the highway was a wasteland of broken cars and debris.

I was trapped.

Then, with a deafening crack, the door was ripped away, torn from its hinges like it was made of paper. I stumbled back, my eyes widening as Bucky stepped forward, his silhouette framed by the chaos beyond. He moved with a lethal grace, his metal arm still raised, the door now discarded at his feet.

I scrambled backward, my hands searching for anything to defend myself, but all I found were shards of glass and twisted metal. Bucky’s gaze was locked onto me, his expression unreadable, his footsteps deliberate and unhurried. He advanced, and I kept retreating, my back hitting the wreckage of another car.

Just as he reached for me, something red streaked through the air, smashing into Bucky with the force of a freight train. The impact sent him flying, his body hurtling across the highway before crashing into the side barrier with a bone-rattling thud. I blinked, stunned, my brain struggling to process what just happened.

I turned my head, and there he was— Iron Man, standing with his fist raised, his helmet gleaming under the dying light of the sun. The red metal glove that had just knocked Bucky out of the way hovered mid-air for a split second before it shot back to his arm, snapping into place with a hiss.

“Thought you only worked at night,” Tony quipped, his voice crackling through the suit’s speakers, though the concern was evident beneath the sarcasm. He didn’t waste a second, his repulsors flaring as he took off to engage the Hydra agents swarming the scene.

I barely had time to register Tony’s arrival before two more figures emerged from the chaos. Black Widow and Hawkeye moved like shadows, their motions fluid and deadly. Natasha’s guns blazed as she took down the agents closest to me, each shot precise and unerring. Clint loosed arrows at an impossible speed, his sharp eyes targeting every Hydra soldier who dared to step forward.

“Go!” Natasha shouted, nodding her head towards the car where Maggie still lay, her voice sharp and commanding. “We’ve got this!”

I snapped back into action, scrambling to my feet and sprinting towards Maggie. She was still unconscious, the faint rise and fall of her chest the only reassurance I needed to know she was still hanging on. I fumbled with her seatbelt, my hands slick with sweat, and pulled her free, cradling her limp form as gently as I could.

I scanned the road, spotting a bystander— a man in his thirties who looked more terrified than I felt. “Help her!” I yelled, thrusting Maggie into his arms. “Take her to the nearest hospital!” He nodded, wide-eyed but willing, and hurried away, cradling my sister as he dashed toward the edge of the highway where it was safer.

With Maggie safely out of immediate harm, I turned back, just in time to see Natasha sprinting towards me. She tossed something in my direction, and I caught it instinctively— two matte black handheld firearms, their sleek, familiar weight grounding me instantly. My usual weapons. The ones that had seen me through countless missions, each nick and scratch a testament to the fights I’d survived.

“Thanks, Nat,” I breathed, loading the guns with a practiced ease. “I owe you one.”

“Just another Tuesday,” she quipped, her eyes scanning the area for threats as we ducked behind a nearby car, taking cover from the barrage of bullets raining down from the Hydra agents still standing. Tony and Clint were keeping most of them busy, but there were still plenty to go around.

I fired off a few rounds, picking off agents as they attempted to advance. The familiar rhythm of combat settled over me, a strange comfort in the midst of the chaos. I turned to Natasha, my voice low but urgent. “What the hell happened? Why is Bucky like this again?”

Natasha grimaced, reloading her guns. “There was a breach at the tower. Hydra got in, and they took Bucky. Managed to wipe everything— reset him completely. He’s back to being the Winter Soldier.”

My stomach dropped, a cold pit forming as her words sank in. “And now he’s trying to kill me?”

“That’s the part we don’t get,” Natasha said, her tone edged with frustration. “The intel we managed to pull says you’re his primary target, but we don’t know why. Whatever programming they shoved into him, it’s all centered on you.”

My mind raced, trying to piece together a motive, a reason— anything that would explain why Hydra would send the Winter Soldier after me, of all people. I thought of every mission, every time I’d crossed paths with them, but nothing added up. I was high up in S.H.I.E.L.D., sure, but I was far from their most dangerous enemy. At least, I thought so.

“We’ll figure it out,” Natasha promised, her eyes meeting mine, fierce and determined. “But first, we get through this. And we stop Bucky before he does something we can’t undo.”

I nodded, steeling myself. I couldn’t afford to think about what might happen if we failed. I had to focus, had to keep fighting, because there was no other option. Not when Bucky was still out there, lost and controlled, a weapon aimed directly at me.

Natasha and I exchanged a glance, and then we moved as one—emerging from cover, weapons blazing. The air was thick with smoke and gunfire, the acrid smell of burning rubber stinging my nose. But I pushed forward, each step driven by the need to protect the people I cared about, to find a way to bring Bucky back from whatever hell he was trapped in.

The battle raged on around us, a whirlwind of gunfire, explosions, and shouting. Tony blasted through Hydra agents, his repulsors sending shockwaves that tore through their ranks. Clint’s arrows flew with pinpoint accuracy, each one taking down an enemy as he moved with effortless grace. Natasha was relentless, her strikes precise and lethal as she fought her way through the chaos.

But Bucky was the eye of the storm, moving with deadly efficiency. He tore through Hydra and Avengers alike, his metal arm swinging with brutal force. Every hit landed with bone-shattering precision, every movement calculated to maim or kill. The Winter Soldier wasn’t just in the fight—he was dominating it.

Tony launched a barrage of energy blasts at Bucky, but Bucky dodged with inhuman reflexes, closing the distance in a matter of seconds. He tackled Tony mid-air, dragging him down to the pavement with a force that cracked the asphalt. Tony hit the ground hard, the impact jarring, but he was up in an instant, firing another repulsor blast that sent Bucky stumbling back.

“Stay down, Tin Man!” Tony growled, taking to the air again, trying to put some distance between them. But Bucky was relentless. He lunged, his metal fist smashing into Tony’s side with a clang that echoed through the highway. Tony’s suit sparked, systems flickering, but he kept fighting, blasting at Bucky with everything he had.

Bucky ducked under Tony’s next attack, moving in close. His metal arm swung up, catching Tony square in the chest. Fingers of steel closed around the arc reactor, the very heart of Tony’s suit. With a vicious twist, Bucky ripped it out, crushing it in his grip. Sparks flew as Tony’s suit shut down, his systems failing with a flicker of dying lights. Tony fell, gasping as the suit collapsed around him, powerless and struggling to breathe.

Natasha rushed in, her movements a blur as she aimed for Bucky’s legs, trying to trip him up. She landed a hit, her boot connecting with the side of his knee, but Bucky barely staggered. He swung his arm, catching her mid-strike, and sent her flying into the wreckage of a nearby car. She hit hard, the impact knocking the wind out of her. Natasha tried to rise, her expression set in determination, but Bucky was already on her. He grabbed her by the throat, lifting her effortlessly before slamming her back down. Natasha gasped, struggling, her hands clawing at his arm, but she couldn’t break free.

Clint loosed an arrow, the projectile striking Bucky’s shoulder with a solid thud. Bucky snarled, releasing Natasha, who crumpled to the ground, clutching her side. Clint fired again, but Bucky deflected it with his metal arm, the arrow splintering against the steel. Bucky moved in, his fist a blur as he knocked Clint’s bow from his hands. Clint ducked under a punch, rolling to the side and grabbing another arrow, but Bucky was faster. His metal arm swung like a sledgehammer, catching Clint across the ribs and sending him crashing into the guardrail. Clint grunted in pain, struggling to get back up, but Bucky was already turning away, his focus shifting.

And then his eyes locked onto me.

A chill ran through me as Bucky turned, his gaze zeroing in like a predator who’d just spotted its prey. I was out of ammo, my guns discarded on the ground, my body aching from the earlier hits. My heart pounded in my chest, my breath coming in ragged gasps as I scrambled backward, my hands searching for anything I could use as a weapon. But all I found were shards of glass and twisted metal, nothing that could stop him.

Bucky advanced, his footsteps slow and deliberate, each one echoing like a drumbeat in my ears. I swung a metal pipe, but he caught it effortlessly, wrenching it from my hands and tossing it aside as if it weighed nothing. I stumbled back, my back hitting the wreckage of a car, nowhere left to run.

“Bucky, please,” I tried, my voice cracking.

He didn’t respond. He was right in front of me now, his expression blank, his eyes cold and empty. There was no sign of the man I knew— only the Winter Soldier, a weapon with one purpose: to eliminate his target.

I swung again, this time with a jagged piece of glass, but he deflected it easily, sending the shards clattering to the ground. His fist slammed into my side, pain exploding in my ribs. I gasped, falling to my knees as the world spun around me. I was exhausted, every part of me screaming to give up, to lie down and let it end.

But I couldn’t. Not with Tony down, Clint barely standing, and Natasha struggling to breathe. I couldn’t let this be the end. Not like this.

I pushed myself up, using the car behind me for support, and faced him. “I know damn well you’re in there somewhere. This is not you, Buck. You need to wake up. Please.”

For a second, Bucky’s arm hesitated, his gaze flickering. But it was gone as quickly as it came, replaced by the cold, unyielding stare of the Winter Soldier. He raised his metal arm, poised to strike, ready to finish what he started.

In that moment, everything seemed to slow. I could hear the faint sound of Tony struggling to get his suit back online, Clint’s pained breathing, Natasha’s quiet groan as she tried to push herself up. And Bucky, standing over me, ready to deliver the final blow.

Bucky’s metal arm was raised, ready to deliver the final blow. My heart pounded so violently I thought it might burst from my chest, every instinct screaming at me to survive, but I was cornered, and there was nowhere left to run. I stared up at him, my breath hitching in terror as I crumbled against the wreckage, tears streaming down my face. The Bucky I knew isn’t there anymore. This is it.

“Please, Bucky,” I sobbed, my voice breaking under the weight of my fear. “Please don’t do this. Please! I don’t want to die.”

My words were a desperate, frantic plea, spilling out in a torrent of terror as I shook uncontrollably. His expression was blank, his eyes cold and unfeeling as he loomed over me. I pressed myself further back against the twisted metal, trying to make myself as small as possible, but there was no escaping him. I could barely breathe through the sobs racking my chest, each breath coming in panicked gasps.

“Bucky, I’m begging you!” I cried, my voice cracking. “You don’t have to do this. Please… please, let me live!” The words were tumbling out of me, broken and raw, and I was shaking so hard I could barely get them out. “I’m not your enemy! Bucky, please!”

His arm didn’t falter, his face a mask of cold determination. I squeezed my eyes shut, my entire body wracked with sobs as I screamed, “Please, Bucky!” The second I saw his arm swing down, I looked the other way and screamed, “I love you! I love you!”

The words ripped out of me, raw and desperate, cutting through the chaos. I opened my eyes to see what had happened. Why wasn’t I hit? His arm was stopped, freezing mid-swing. His eyes widened, confusion flickering across his features as if he were suddenly woken from a trance. The soldier’s unyielding stare gave way to something else—something conflicted, like he was struggling to understand.

Bucky stumbled back, his hand flying to his head as if he were trying to claw the commands out of his mind. He groaned, a guttural sound of pain that echoed in my ears. I watched, tears still streaming down my face, as he fought with himself, his body convulsing with the effort to regain control. His breaths were ragged, each one a struggle against the chains of Hydra’s programming.

He let out a tortured scream, the sound filled with agony as he staggered back, his fingers digging into his scalp. His metal arm jerked erratically, twitching as if caught between following orders and breaking free. It was like watching someone try to tear themselves apart from the inside out. My heart ached at the sight, every second a painful reminder of how deeply he was trapped.

“Bucky…” I whispered, my voice trembling as I reached out a hand, but he didn’t hear me. He was lost in the battle within his mind, his body shaking violently as he continued to scream, his face contorted in a mask of pain and fury.

His feet shuffled back further, his back hitting a crumpled car as he slumped down, his hands clutching his head. He pounded his fist against the ground, each hit sending cracks through the pavement, each hit an attempt to silence the war inside his own head. I wanted to reach out, to help him, but I couldn’t move, my own body weakened from the fight and the fear.

As Bucky struggled, I heard the distant sound of heavy footsteps— the unmistakable thud of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents rushing in. My vision blurred, the adrenaline finally wearing off and leaving a dull, throbbing pain in its place. The world around me began to fade, the sounds of Bucky’s anguished cries and the agents shouting orders blending into a muffled haze.

I tried to keep my eyes open, to hold on just a little longer, but my strength was gone. My body slumped, the last of my energy spent as darkness crept in at the edges of my vision. The last thing I saw was Bucky, still fighting against the storm in his mind, and then everything went black.

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