#in this shot he looks bigger than i have ever seen him look. his NECK. what a time to be a fat charlie girl. im soooooooo

[silverview]

i really don't have anything to say for myself

[messenger-of-babel]

Voicemails

Summary: When complications arise on his mission, all he has is one phone call back to you. (Death Island! Leon x reader)

Word Count: 2.1K

Notes: It really does end here, huh? 🥹 This is the last post for this month. We have officially finished Angstober 2024. Thank you to everyone who liked, commented, reblogged, followed, and sent me things to my inbox. It's going to be weird not writing for you all every day, but you'll still see me around. I'm going to take a small break and write in the background, get through requests and stuff. I'm moving house and graduating at the same time so I might not post a whole lot till I'm settled again, but then you can count on me for more than angst!

General warnings for language use, spoilers for Death Island if you haven't seen it (you should it's quite funny), and a mildly OOC Leon but we can all be saps sometimes. Warping the events of the movie to my own benefit.

Enjoy our last post of this month, sweethearts~

RiRi xx

━━━━━━━━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

"You wanna make a call?" Chris grunts, looking down at him. Leon looks up at him, vision blurry and pain radiating through his body. His neck stings from where the microdrone bit him, and he can no longer feel anything from his thighs down, just a numb tingle. He has to consciously remind himself to breathe, in through the nose and out through the mouth.

"You got- you got a way?" he rasps back, eyes scrunching in confusion. Chris nods, the bigger man bucking slightly against the cell wall he's leaning against.

"Left- left pocket." he grits out. "Claire got the signal through before we got bit. It's only strong enough for one call, then Dylan's framework will probably patch it."

Leon sighs, head hitting the rusted bars of Alcatraz. This had been another run of the mill mission, find the missing scientist selling government secrets, pack him up and ship him back to the government to be trialled at court. In the true fashion of his 'run of the mill missions', nothing went according to that plan and veered off into a clusterfuck as usual. The BSAA had been involved chasing their own leads, and he had run into Jill in the sewers running from zombies. the plague that seemed to follow him like a shadow ever since he left Raccoon as a young and very traumatised cop.

He was supposed to get in and out, wrap it up so he could come home to you like he promised. As he sat there writhing, he wondered what the look on your face would be if he wasn't able to make it to the cruise that you had both planned. You had lobbied both him and the DSO for a holiday, and after many angry letters and snatching the phone out of his hand to yell at his supervisor, you had succeeded in getting him two months off. Without hesitation you had booked the both of you on a cruise, shushing him every time he had tried to protest.

If he was being honest, just sleeping at home would have been enough. He could barely remember the last time that he had sat down or stopped for a moment. The days that he was at the office or on a mission blurred together so often that he was beginning to forget what colour you had both decided to paint the kitchen, making him falter when coworkers made small talk with him in the staff room. Which side of the bed you preferred to sleep on, what bills needed to be paid first, whether the spare bedroom was being turned into an office or a workshop or not. It was when his forgetfulness led him to forget what month it was and being blindsided to your own anniversary that he finally snapped out of it.

You had been sitting on the porch steps dressed in your finery, watery eyes looking up at him as he pulled into the driveway, your knees pulled to your chest. He had jumped from the car like you were shot, the realisation of what he had done thrumming hard in his chest. "I'm so sorry" he had murmured into your hair, holding you tight. "I am so so sorry."

You had just sniffled in response and eventually gave him a weak hug back, and he clung to that like a lifeline. He swore that he would never fuck up like that again, and he intended to keep that promise.

So, he had relented to the cruise vacation, telling himself that he would be able to relax and unwind on the seas and out of service of work. They could call another agent for once, he wanted to focus on nothing but the smile you wore as you got to carry out the couple things he felt he had denied you your entire relationship. Getting to use the swim up bar, taking photos together, dressing in matching clothes for the cheesy cruise quiz nights. If that was what you wanted, that is what he was going to give you. Besides, it gave him a chance to relish in you again.

You, who had cancelled the wedding of your dreams to get married at the courthouse with him when he got called away suddenly and you weren't sure if you would see him again. You had been married within hours with the rings he had picked and you in the finest you could find on such short notice. He had thought you looked stunning, even if the lighting was the harsh LED of the courthouse and not candles like you had wanted.

You, who had put up with months of him being gone, not knowing if he was dead or alive. Who had to stay up late tracking the news for crumbs of his whereabouts, only able to make guesses to where he might have been assigned. Every death, every bioterrorist attack overseas carrying the possibility that Leon's body was among those being pulled from the carnage.

You, who he was calling right now with the jacked cell phone from Chris's pocket, dial tone droning on.

Leon had been stung last, used as nothing more than an example to show off the latest weapon in the bioterror market. Yet he was losing feeling fast, much faster than Chris or even Claire struggling in the other cell. It was like his atoms were screaming at him, writhing in him at a molecular level. Breathing felt like it was through a damp cloth, lungs having to work twice as hard to suck oxygen into his lungs. His eyelids were struggling to stay awake and fight off the black curtains that floated in the corners. he could see the way that the others looked at him, with pity and with concern. As soon as he had caught the eye of Chris, saw the flicker of fear cross the usually confident man's face, he knew that he was reacting worse than all of them.

So here he was, heart in his throat as he prepared to tell you the words he hadn't been expecting to say when he left that morning. When the line doesn't pick up he curses, waiting for the tone. He wasn’t going to waste his chance.

"Hi! If I haven't picked up, I can't come to the phone right now. If you leave a message, I'll get back to you as soon as I can. Please wait for the beep, thank you!"

He smiles to himself at the chipper tone of your voice, sounding heaven sent even through the phone. When he hears the tone he takes a deep breath, as big as he can and puts a fake smile on his face. He hopes that it makes his tone come out just a little sweeter for you, even though he knows that you'll be worried regardless.

"Hey, Sweetheart." he starts, voice raspy. "I'm sorry to be calling you like this. I just wanted to call to hear your voice. I-I missed you. I know you didn’t pick up, so you're probably busy. Now don't call me back immediately, I... won’t be able to pick up for a while. I just...damnit I wanted to just hear you." He grits out, head falling against the bars as he loses strength in his neck. He catches eyes with Chris, the older man's eyes misting over as he looks down at him before he turns his head away, the most privacy he can give him in the situation.

"I just wanted to call to let you know that I love you...and I miss you." he begins again. With his eyes closed the words come easier, the image of you flitting into his mind's eye. You look at him in his spectral vision with a smile, encouraging him to go on. He feels his chest ease, like he's actually talking to you, and the both of you are the only ones in the room. "I know you're going to worry. I know this doesn't sound good-" he grits his teeth against another hot flash of pain. "And... it’s not." he finishes. "I want to tell you…that I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I don't think I'm gonna make it home tonight, baby. I... I might not make it back from this." he tries to chuckle, but the sound is dry, and the effort hurts his chest. "Things got bad here, and it's not looking good. I think- I think it ends here, honey. If I don't make it just...just, please look after yourself."

He takes a shaky breath, and the silence of everyone around him is deafening. The scene is oddly private and uncomfortable for the others in the vicinity, while the usually ever-energetic man known as Leon delivers his verbal will. "I know you won’t want to go, but go on that cruise. You worked hard for it, and you were so excited. I wanted to go swimming with you, fall asleep by the pool and pretend it was the honeymoon I owe you. So, I want you to still go on it. Even if I don't come back...I'll ask the big man above to let me hang around long enough to do it with you, even if you won't be able to see me. I made a promise remember? No more missing big things." he whispers into the phone.

His throat is beginning to hurt, like speaking around a sharp lump every time he formed a word. "And the house is yours, it should go into your name. The car, everything, you'll have it all. I just...I just wish it could have been different, you know?" he says into the receiver, that has begun to waver by his cheek. "But it is what it is, and I guess it finally caught up to me. I'm sorry I was such a shitty husband." he says, a light tremor in his voice. "I wish I had come home to you more, not left the bed cold. I wish I could have made you more dinners and more breakfasts in bed, just to show you how much I loved you. I love you. I love you so much it hurts. I never told it to you enough, or managed to even put into actions just how much you mean to me, but I do. You mean everything, sweetheart." he chokes into the phone, a small smile on his face. "I love you more than anything, so...so don't think anything else, okay? This isn't your fault. It never was. You were the best thing that ever happened to me, you hear me? So you pick yourself up when I'm gone," he gasps out, hand beginning to waver. "You put yourself back in that saddle, and you show the world just how strong you are. Show them the person I fell in love with." he says with a smile, before breaking into a fit of painful coughs.

"Don't stay up, sweetheart. Get to bed early. I miss you, more than you'll ever know." he coughs out into the receiver before his body can't hold him up anymore and he slides down the bars until his cheek is pressing into the concrete, hand falling to his side and phone clattering against the stone. He can hear the tone end, and the automated whoosh sound as the voicemail sends. With bleary eyes he can make out the turned head of Claire, looking down at him with wobbling lips and tear-filled eyes.

"Look after 'em, hey?" he rasps out, pain in his chest stabbing as the black curtains begin to slide across his vision. Claire nods, and he can hear Chris grunt in the background. Leon falls into an unconsciousness shortly after, the smiling image of you the last thing he holds close to him as the blackness swallows him completely. As his body stills, a small smile is frozen on his face, the arrogant half tilted smirk he so loved to give you.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

Typing away at your computer, you work till your eyes go square from the computer screen. You wipe a hand over your face as you review the spreadsheet that you're working on, leaning back to take a sip of your coffee. Your music blasts in your headphones, and for a quick break you pull up the checklist you've made for your upcoming holiday.

You're so engrossed in your work that you're unaware as your phone screen glows to life beside you, message popping across your notification bar.

You have (1) new voicemails.

[sanjisboyfie]

basketball player ! gojo satoru headcanons

gojo satoru x male reader

warning: short dialogue of homophobia (satoru deals with it swiftly though)

-> HE'S SO BABYGIRL IN THIS PHOTO.

basketball player ! satoru . . . who is even taller than canon because why would he be a professional basketball player and only 6'3 guys c'mon, bro has to be at least 6'6-6'8. but of course, he's not only gotten bigger, his ego did as well. add the fact that he's a good player...yeah, no one is safe from the cocky, lowkey-asshole basketball player gojo satoru. (except for you !!! because he acts like a complete and total sweetheart to you).

basketball player ! satoru . . . being so shamelessly and publically infatuated with you, his lovely, lovely, lovely boyfriend. he is always on top of you anywhere in public, makes sure you're always courtside, he needs to make sure his baby can see him.

during satoru's matches, he's always focused in. he doesn't really look at you that much and you do understand. he's trying to win, he hates losing. so he gives everything for his team to be the ones on top.

his tall figure moves cleanly across the court, making his team win more than 50% of the time. and when he scores that winning shot, he's running over to you first.

he's bulldozing through the people that are running to him because he can give less of a shit about them. his piercing blue eyes are focused in on you and only you. how your eyes are teary from how proud you are of him for making the winning shot, how high your cheeks are from that charming smile, and how your arms are already open and expectingly waiting for him.

he powers through the crowd and takes you into his arms, grinning into the skin of your neck before pulling away and proudly kissing you in front of everything and all the cameras.

the crowd loves it, the deafening screams from the stands are enough to show for that. they love how openly in love satoru is with you, how completely smitten he is.

his arms are bound around your waist and he's easily hold you up in his arms as he spins the two of you around. you're in your own world as you laugh at his antics and hold on tight to his sweaty torso to not lose balance.

"i love you, sweet boy," he whispers into your ear, looking at the cameras that are all around him with nothing but pure euphoria in his eyes. "i love you so much, couldn't have done it without you. it's all for you, all of it,"

the world can't hear him, but they can read his lips. and twitter falls in love with that moment and use it to set their expectations and standards even higher than they already were.

shoutout gojo satoru for being so obviously in love with you.

basketball player ! satoru . . . who is always photographed beside you. if this man ever comes out of his home, it's only because you're also leaving your shared home and he cannot be alone for the life of him (plus, he just wants to be near his boyfriend all the time). the fans love you guys so much because of how lovey-dovey satoru gets with you, and only you. they've never seen him be so soft for anyone else.

satoru was draped over your back, craning his head down so that his face near yours. with your drastic height difference, it definitely made some passerbys look at you two with wide eyes.

an abnormally tall man trying to shrink himself down to the height of his boyfriend. satoru's arms were hanging in front of your torso, holding your shopping bags in his slender fingers with ease.

he was giggling in your ear, watching the tiktok that was playing from your phone. it was a silly comedy video, pressing his finger to the screen to open up the comments.

and then when it was finally your turn to order your drink at the cafe, he took the phone from you and continued on watching as you ordered. you rolled your eyes at his antics, muttering under your breath about how he was just a big, ipad man-baby.

the woman at the counter took your order as calmly as she could, recognizing you and the towering figure behind you. after ordering, you wordlessly took satoru's wallet out from the bag he was holding and dropped a hefty tip into the tip jar.

after pocketing his wallet back into your pocket, you had to physically drag him from where he was standing because he was so immersed in the tiktoks on your fyp that he didn't realize that you were done ordering.

as you waited by the counter, you took note of how there was now a swarm of papparazzi crowding around the exit of the humble cafe you two were in.

taking note of the mass amounts of people, satoru looked at you with a softness he only uses with you, "do you want me to call the guys? they can clear them up for us before we leave,"

you hummed, thinking about it before nodding, "yeah, these people didn't ask for those annoying cameras to be flashing through the window like that. it's so fucking rude," satoru nodded in agreement, taking out his own phone (which looked like a toy in his huge hands) and exchanged some words with his own team of security.

by the time your coffee was finished brewing and served to you, the papparazzi were being held off by a chain of bodyguards and being held at bay so that you two could peacefully leave the cafe.

the next day, pictures of you two leaving were trending on all social media. satoru's hand was around your shoulders in all of the photos, his hand around your shoulder was protectively blocking the side of your face that was being bombarded by the blinding flashes. a scowl was on his face as he walked through the crowd to your car. he opened the door for you first, walking around the front of the expensive vehicle and flipping the cameras off one last time before getting into the driver's side and speeding off.

"i was in the cafe, trying not to freakk out beacuse oh my god gojo satoru and [name] [last name] were right in front of me. and i swear the moment gojo noticed that he was uncomfortable with the people, he called his team or whatever to get all the paps out!!"

"they're so cute, do you see how gojo is holding him so close??? ughh literally goals!"

"seeing what gojo is like on and off court is crazy, thanks [name] for showing us his soft side <3"

basketball player ! satoru . . . uses every chance he gets to talk about you when he does press conferences or interviews. lovingly calls you his "baby," "hubby," or, "handsome boy."

basketball player ! satoru . . . god forbid someone say some sneaky shit to him about his relationship with you aka his sexuality. if someone tries anything with a backhanded comment about satoru's relationship with you, they will be dealt with swiftly and colorfully (as in, he will be cursing them out with zero remorse and no hesitation). because foh with that homophobic shit, satoru has no patience for that.

"so how have you and the mister been doing, gojo? you're nearly hitting the three year mark!" a very enthusiastic reporter asked, a wide grin on their face.

and satoru felt his lips tug up in a grin at the mention of you, holding the mic carefully as he spoke, "we're doing great, yeah, uhm, we got another cat - even though i told him i wanted a dog. it's a cute addition to our little family."

his response made the reporter only more giddy, going on to ask another question regarding your homey life together, before they were cut off by a rude person in the crowd shouting, "how does it feel to be acting like a fucking bitch dating another dude?! top paid player gojo satoru takes it up the ass!? you're fucking disgusting!"

satoru's eyebrows lifted in surprise at the audacity of the person, his blue eyes scanning the crowd for who was responsible for screaming that.

"sorry, whoever that was, could you just stand up?" he asked into the mic, his once cheerful and laid back tone turning into an intimidating rumble, "c'mon, don't be a pussy, where the fuck are you?"

the security grabbed ahold of the guy and satoru visibly blanched at the sight of him.

"say that shit again to my face, let's hear it," satoru goaded the man, who was now sweating bullets. "oh, don't give me that look! do you really think i'd let you say that shit without any consequences?" a sarcastic laugh left satoru's lips, "look into all these cameras, man, you're fucking ruined. no one wants a homophobic, ugly dude representing them and their company. no, because did you really think i'd let you disrespect my man like that?"

there was a hanging silence in the room as satoru glared at the man.

"don't even think about speaking about my relationship with [name] ever again. or else, you're really fucking dead. it's not a threat, it's a promise. i'll bash your head in," satoru said, slamming the mic onto the table and walking out of the grand conference room. he didn't even flinch at the flashes of the cameras, calmly putting his signature sunglasses down to block out the blinding lights.

that day, the only thing that calmed him down was holding you in his arms. his manager had called you to the greenroom since he was giving everyone a bad attitude, unintentionally, and borderline throwing a tantrum.

when he finally got you in his hold again, he apologized for his behavior earlier.

"don't apologize to me, apologize to your team who had to deal with your bullshit before i came," you lightly scolded him, running your hand through his soft locks. "are you feeling better, though?"

"better now that you're here," he squeezed around your waist, burying his head into your neck, "much better, thank you, baby,"

basketball player ! satoru . . . has his entire social media feed just be pictures of you and what you two do together. whether it's your latest, impromptu trip to hawaii or just a picture of you two cuddling in bed, you're all over his feed. his social media just screams how in love with you he is. his fucking profile picture is of you two cuddling in bed with his jersey very subtly seen as the only thing you're wearing. before that, it was just a picture of him and you kissing that he took when you went on your anniversary trip last year. his bio is the team he plays for, his jersey number, and then a white heart next to your username as he blatantly tags you in his bio. underneath that there might be a, "happily married" with the ring emoji next to it even though you two aren't even married yet.

basketball player ! satoru . . . who would spoil you rotten with everything you ever want. why would he have all this money if not to spoil you??? he just wants to make you happy with anything he can provide, and if part of that is him dropping bands on top of bands on whatever it is you want, then so be it. he doesn't care. he's willing to spend however much he needs to keep you happy and content.

satoru's win had encouraged him to treat YOU out to a mall trip .... even though he was the one who should have been celebrated and treated out since he was the winner.

he cheesily denies that offer by saying, "i'm only a winner because i have you, baby boy, c'mon let me treat you," and then he playfully bites the lobe of your ear to distract you from teh mass amounts of money he is going to spend on you.

that day, you walk out of the mall with a whole bunch of bags (gucci, burberry, dior, prada, etc.etc.) that he's easily holding in his large hands. people notice that there is a new chain around your neck with a cute "g" and "s" charm hanging from it, refracting every bit of light that gets caught in its surface with how blinding the diamonds are. he has a matching one as well, with your initials, which he proudly shows the cameras of the papparazzi as they soon swarm you guys. then he's flipping them off again.

-

you and basketball player ! satoru are a power couple that the media and fans love. any homophobic comment that reaches satoru's ears are called out and dealt with by his sharp tongue and scary, blue eyes glaring at whoever was dishing out those comments. he's a complete softy for you too and he is NOT one to shy away from that, loves showing off how happy he is with you and ONLY you.

also last bit before i go: he definitely has two photos of you in his wallet. one of them is a cute polaroid you guys took at his family's house for xmas the other is..............promiscuious.

-> next, drabble <3

[jude-duarte-wannabe]

Hi hi!! This is a large order if you are up for it!

- Carrot cake, apple tart, & a chocolate chip cookie

- Coconut milk, and a (light/tipsy) Irish coffee

Could you get either Carlos or Alex (F1) to serve it please!

we can't be friends

order up!

hi lovely <3 thanks for the request, i do love a good friends to lovers story, your chosen prompts will be bolded.

pairing; carlos sainz jr x female reader

blurb; one too many drinks down the hatch and you decide to shoot your shot with your best friend who you've wanted for far too long.

warnings; dirty talking, drunk sex, choking, google translated spanish, soft sex turned rough, spitting, drunk makeout session, doggy style, hair pulling and creampie. [let me know if i missed anything!]

irish coffee; drunk sex coconut milk; friends to lovers carrot cake; "dirty girl" chocolate chip cookie; "did you just call me pretty boy" apple tart; "what do you mean you want me to choke you"

word count; 4.4k

currently playing; just friends by why don't we "i got tunnel vision, think it's time that i confessed, if i could just get my arms around you, baby, don't you say that we're just friends, when you know we could be lovers instead wanna give you a night you'll never forget"

“i never knew i could want you like this” carlos’s breath was hot against your neck as he nipped at the sensitive skin behind your ear.

you'd know carlos practically your whole life having grown up together since your families were super close, you'd watched eachother go through relationship after relationship each one a bigger disappointment than the last.

somewhere along the way you'd seen a different side of carlos when your date canceled and so you asked carlos to dinner instead, you saw him in a new light that night.

ever since there you'd had a thing for him, you'd craved his touch and yearned for him in a way that no one should ever yearn for their best friend.

you could feel your heart racing as carlos's lips trailed down your neck, leaving a trail of fire in their wake, you tangled your fingers in his dark curls, pulling him closer.

"carlos," you breathed, barely able to any form coherent thoughts amongst the fog swirling in your brain. "we shouldn't..."

he pulled back slightly, his brown eyes searching yours. "do you want me to stop?"

you knew you should say yes after all this could ruin everything - your friendship, your families' relationship, but looking into his eyes, feeling the heat of his body pressed against yours, you couldn't bring yourself to push him away.

"no," you whispered. "don't stop."

a slow smile spread across his face as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss, all those years of pent-up longing and desire poured out as you kissed him back with equal fervor.

his hands roamed your body, gripped at your waist, pulling you closer by the second “do you really want to do this here” you giggled.

"maybe not" carlos murmured, his lips trailing down to your collarbone. "but i don't think i can wait much longer."

you shivered at his touch, your fingers tangling in his dark curls, the storage closet of the upbeat club you'd started your night in was cramped and dimly lit, the scent of cleaning supplies mingling with carlos's addictive cologne.

you knew that anyone including another driver or one of their girlfriends could walk in at any moment, but the thrill of possibly being caught in such a compromising position only heightened your desire.

"we shouldn't," you whispered halfheartedly, even as your body arched against his, desperate for his touch.

carlos's hand slid under your shirt, his fingertips tracing patterns on your bare skin. "tell me to stop," he challenged, his voice husky.

instead of responding, to him you captured his lips in a searing kiss, all thoughts of propriety flew from your mind as carlos pressed you against the shelves, his body hot and hard against yours.

“i don’t ever want you to stop but surely we can take this somewhere more private” you asked, holding up the key card to your hotel room “my hotel’s not far.. lets get out of this fucking club”

carlos's eyes darkened with desire as he saw the key card. "lead the way," he growled, reluctantly stepping back to let you open the door.

you peered out into the hallway, making sure the coast was clear before slipping out of the closet. carlos followed close behind, his hand resting possessively on the small of your back as you weaved through the crowded club.

the pulsing music and flashing lights seemed to fade into the background, your senses hyper-focused on carlos's touch and the electricity crackling between you.

as soon as you stepped outside, carlos hailed a taxi with impressive speed. the cool night air did little to temper the heat building between you.

in the backseat, carlos pulled you close so that you were practically straddling him, his lips finding yours in a heated kiss that left you breathless.

"how much farther?" he murmured against your neck.

"no clue, lets just enjoy this chico bonito"

carlos chuckled softly, his breath warm against your skin, his hands roamed down your back, pulling you even closer.

"did you just call me pretty boy" he asked in an amused tone, pulling your hips tighter against his own.

"why... do you like it" you asked, breath hot against his ear, fingers tugging at his hair ends.

"mmh, i like the sound of it" he purred, nipping gently at your earlobe, the taxi hit a bump, jostling you both.

you giggled, steadying yourself with hands on his broad shoulders, outside the window, streetlights blurred past in the darkness, the taxi driver seemed oblivious to your passionate embrace in the backseat.

carlos's fingers tangled in your hair as he guided your lips back to his, your kiss deepening, tongues dancing, as heat built between your bodies, you shifted your hips, grinding on carlo's lap which elicited a low groan from him.

"dios mío," he breathed. "you're driving me crazy, mi amor."

you smiled wickedly, trailing kisses along his jaw. "you should call me that more often" you suggested, hands beginning to trail down his chest, pulling him even closer by the fabric of his shirt.

carlos chuckled, his breath hot against your ear. "mi amor," he whispered, voice husky with desire. "mi vida, mi corazón." his hands roamed your back, fingers tracing patterns that sent shivers zapping up ans down your spine.

you nipped at his earlobe, reveling in the way his body tensed beneath you. "keep talking," you murmured and he obliged, a stream of spanish endearments falling from his lips as your fingers snuck beneath the fabric of his button down, seeking out his warm skin.

"easy..." carlos hissed, gripping your wrist in between his fingers "let's not undress in front of the taxi driver now" he chuckled, the sound of it almost made you moan.

you reluctantly withdrew your hands, fingers grazing along his skin with a featherlight touch, but you couldn't however resist pressing a heated kisses to skin of his neck.

carlos groaned softly, his fingers gripping waist, the taxi lurched to a stop and the driver banged on the partition window, carlos reached for his wallet, lifting his hips which caused his crotch to press against your core as he retrieved it from his back pocket.

he practically threw some bills at the driver before pulling you out of the taxi and onto the sidewalk, the cool night air did little to calm the fire burning beneath your skin or the deep rooted desire you felt for your best friend.

you managed to remain composed making your way through the lobby and into the elevator, where carlos nipped and nibbled at the skin of neck.

carlos tugged you close, his lips finding yours in a desperate kiss as you fumbled with the hotel key card, you pushed him against the door, drinking in his gasps and sighs like they were a drug that you needed to survive.

"dios mío," he breathed as the lock finally clicked open, the two of you tumbled inside, hands roaming and clothes flying, landing in different corners of the room to be forgotten, carlos lifted you easily, your legs wrapping around his waist as he carried you to the bed

he laid you down, dark eyes roving over your form and with a burning desire simmering beneath his skin, his hand skimmed up your body, roaming over your soft form with featherlight touches.

your breath hitched as his fingers danced across your skin, leaving trails of fire in their wake, carlos leaned down, his lips brushing against your neck, hot and insistent as you arched against him, a soft moan escaping your lips.

"hermosa," he murmured against your skin, his voice low and husky with need, his hand tangled in your hair, tugging gently to expose more of your neck to his hungry mouth.

you ran your fingers down his back, feeling the muscles ripple beneath your touch as carlos's lips found yours in a searing kiss, tongues tangling as passion consumed you both.

your bodies pressed together, skin on skin, the heat between you building, he pulled back slightly, dark eyes meeting yours, filled with a mix of desire and something deeper, more tender.

"how could i never see you... right in front of me too" carlos mumbled, thumb running over your cheek gently "what do you mean" you questioned.

carlos let out a soft chuckle, his breath warm against your skin. "all this time, i thought we were just friends, but now..." his voice trailed off as he leaned in, pressing his forehead to yours.

your heart raced, pulse pounding in your ears as you gazed into his soft soulful brown eyes, eyes that you loved so dearly "now what?" you whispered, barely able to form the words.

his hand slid to the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair. "now i see you, really see you and i can't believe i was so blind before."

you closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. "carlos, i-"

but before you could finish, his lips were on yours, soft yet urgent, the kiss deepened, years of unspoken longing pouring out between you. when you finally broke apart, breathless.

carlos cupped your face in his hands, fingers tracing down to your jaw. "i mean, we've been friends for so long and i-" he trailed off, unsure of if he should say what was on his mind.

your heart raced at his words, hardly daring to believe that he could possibly be about to confess that he loved you like you loved him. "carlos... mi sol, what are you thinking?" you whispered.

carlos's dark eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of hope and uncertainty as he took a shaky breath, his hands still cradling your face with a gentleness only he had ever shown you.

"i... i don't know how to say this without risking everything we have," he murmured, his thumb gently stroking your cheek.

you leaned into his touch, your own hands coming up to rest on his wrists. "you can tell me anything, carlito, you know that."

he nodded, swallowing hard. "the thing is, i... i think i'm in love with you, no, i know i am and i have been for a long time and i can't keep pretending that i don't feel this way anymore."

your breath caught in your throat, joy blooming in your chest as you shivered at his confession, you'd harbored secret feelings for carlos for years, never imagining he might reciprocate.

"carlito" you breathed, a smile spreading across your face. "i love you too, i've been waiting to hear say you loved me for years... your everything to me.. mi alma, mi amado... mi vida"

carlos listened to the words spilling from your lips intently, his heart practically leaping into his throat, he had to be hearing things, this had to be some kind of dream.

hearing you say that you'd longed after him for years.. his childhood best friend.. in love with him for years and he had never noticed.. how stupid could he be.

for a good few seconds, carlos was speechless and unsure of what to say, his mind still trying to catch up and comprehend what he had just heard, his hands that cupped your cheeks pulled your face closer.

"mi vida" he mumbled "your life" the way he'd worded himself sounded like a question and while you weren't sure, you still answered.

"mi vida.. my life, i live for you carlito" you confirmed, carlos’s heart raced, he had a whirlwind of emotions swirling inside him, he had spent years not seeing what was right in front of him, and now it felt like everything had shifted in an instant.

his eyes searched your own, wanting to find the truth, the depth of what you were saying. “you... you really mean that?” his voice was barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid to shatter the moment that had been created between you both.

“i do” you replied “i’ve tried to hide it but it’s always been you, carlito. always.”

carlos took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as all of the memories flooded back—every shared secret, every late-night laugh, and every moment that you'd ever shared together, how could he have been so blind.

with a gentle pull, he leaned closer, his forehead resting against yours. “i’ve been so stupid,” he admitted, a soft chuckle escaping his lips. “i should have known., i’ve felt it too, you know, i just didn’t want to ruin what we had.”

you felt a warmth bloom in your chest at his confession, in that moment, everything around you faded—the distant sounds of the city, the buzzing of life outside, even the weight of uncertainty.

all that mattered was him, and the soft intensity of his soulful brown eyes drawing you in.

“carlos,” you murmured, your heart thudding against your ribs, no answer came from him and soon a silence stretched between you, heavy with anticipation.

slowly, almost hesitantly, carlos closed the distance between you both, his lips brushing against yours, it was a tentative kiss at first, much unlike your previous ones, a gentle exploration of what had long been buried beneath years of friendship.

he soon deepened the kiss and you felt yourself dissolve into the warmth of his embrace, your hands wound their way into his hair tugging on the locks softly as he slipped his tongue past your parted lips with eagerness.

a soft moan escaped you as his tongue explored your mouth, sending shivers zapping up your spine as his hands roamed your body, leaving trails of fire in their wake.

you pressed yourself closer, craving more of carlos's intoxicating touch, the world around you seemed to fade away until all that existed was the two of you, lost in the moment.

his lips left yours to blaze a path along your jaw and neck, you tilted your head, offering better access as he nipped and sucked at the sensitive skin.

your breath came in short gasps, and desire coursed through your veins.

"we should stop," you whispered half-heartedly, as your body arched into his, carlos pulled back slightly, his eyes dark with desire as they met yours. "do you really want to?" he asked, his voice husky.

"don't you dare stop" you whimpered, desire taking over any rational thought left in your mind as you stuck out your tongue, asking him with eyes for something you'd never let anyone else ever do.

carlos understood what you wanted, fingers gripping your face "dirty girl" he murmured but the smirk currently decorating his handsome features told you he loved it as he spat into your mouth and you then swallowed with eagerness.

a shiver ran through your body as you savored the taste, your eyes locked onto carlos's intense gaze as his grip on your face tightened, fingers digging into your skin as he leaned in close, his hot breath ghosting over your ear.

"you want more, don't you?" he whispered, his voice low and husky, you nodded frantically, beyond words at this point.

carlos chuckled darkly, trailing his free hand down your neck and across your collarbone. "such a greedy little thing, i wonder just how far you'll let me go?"

you gasped, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you at the thought that appeared in your mind, this was uncharted territory for you but there was no one you trusted more than carlos and no one you wanted to explore this idea with more than him.

"further than you might think.." you murmured, bringing his large hand up and laying it against your throat "i want you to choke me" you asked and he stilled, not moving an inch.

"what do you mean you want me to choke you" carlos asked in a flabbergasted tone, surprised that you would ask such a thing but not at all against it.

you smiled softly, a mixture of shyness and desire flickering across your face. "i mean exactly what i said," you whispered, pressing his hand more firmly against your neck. "i trust you, carlito, i want to feel how strong you are"

carlos hesitated, his dark eyes searching yours, you could see the conflict within him - the desire to please you warring with his innate protectiveness over you, one that had been present your whole lives.

"i don't want to hurt you," he said softly, his thumb caressing your jawline.

"you won't" you assured him, your pulse quickening beneath his touch. "i'll tell you if it's too much, please, i need this, i need you mi vida" you begged, your tone was almost pitiful.

something in your voice must have convinced him because you saw the moment his resolve crumbled and his grip tightened ever so slightly, a thrill running through your body. "if you're sure," he murmured.

carlos's fingers flexed experimentally against your throat, his touch both gentle and firm at the same time, you felt your breath catch, a delicious tension coiling in your belly.

"like this?" he asked, his voice low and husky.

you nodded, unable to speak as the pressure increased bit by bit, each time more pleasurable than the last, your eyes fluttered closed, savoring the heady mix of vulnerability and arousal.

carlos's free hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb tracing your parted lips.

"open your eyes," he commanded softly. "i need to see you." his voice was almost a whimper, a sound which would drive you crazy by the end of the night if kept hearing it and so you obeyed, meeting his intense gaze.

the raw desire you saw there made you shiver as carlos leaned in, his breath hot against your ear.

"tell me if it's too much," he whispered before capturing your lips in a searing kiss, one that if his hand was not currently wrapped around your throat would have left you completely breathless.

your leg hooked around his waist, pulling his crotch tighter against yours in the mix of your passionate embrace.

carlos groaned against your mouth, his hips grinding against yours in response, the friction sent sparks of pleasure coursing through your body.

his hand at your throat tightened ever so slightly, the pressure intoxicating, you broke the kiss, gasping for air. "more," you pleaded, your voice husky with desire.

his dark eyes blazed as he looked at you, pupils blown wide with lust and then without warning, he spun you around so you rested on all fours, his crotch pressing against ass as he tugged on your hair to whisper against your ear.

"is this what you want?" he growled, his hand sliding down your side to grip your hip possessively to which you could only whimper in response, overcome by the sensations he was awakening in you.

"answer me," he demanded, his voice rough with desire, his fingers dug into your flesh, sure to leave marks and while you didn't know in the moment, he would kiss them better later, angry at himself for having hurt you.

you gasped, struggling to form words as heat pooled in your core. "y-yes," you finally managed to stammer. "please carlito.."

carlos chuckled darkly, the sound sending shivers down your spine. "such a needy little thing," he murmured, his lips brushing against your neck.

his free hand snaked around to caress your stomach, inching lower with agonizing slowness.

you arched into his touch, desperate for more and he responded by grinding against you, his hardness evident through the layers of clothing still separating you.

a moan escaped your lips as carlos nipped at your earlobe. "i'm going to make you scream my name," he promised, his fingers finally reaching their destination.

your breathing hitched as carlos's skilled fingers teased you, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body, you clutched at the bed sheets beneath you, arms and legs becoming unstable.

"please," you whimpered, beyond caring how needy you sounded.

carlos chuckled darkly, his lips trailing down your neck. "so impatient," he murmured against your flushed skin, he pulled back slightly, his intense gaze meeting yours over your shoulder as his fingers continued their torturous ministrations.

you squirmed beneath him, desperate for more friction. "tell me what you want," carlos commanded, his voice husky with desire.

"you," you gasped. "i want you. all of you." a wicked grin spread across his face. "as you wish”

carlos's fingers finally relented, drawing a frustrated whine from your lips but your disappointment was short-lived as you felt him shift behind you, his muscular body pressing against yours.

his lips found your ear, hot breath sending shivers down your spine as he whispered "are you ready for me, mi amor?"

you nodded frantically, words failing you as anticipation coiled tightly in your core, with agonizing slowness, carlos moved aside the thin soaked fabric of your panties and began to enter you, stretching and filling you exquisitely.

you moaned, low and needy, as he bottomed out, your bodies flush against each other.

"so perfect," carlos groaned, his hips beginning a steady rhythm that had you seeing stars, the only sounds that could be heard within the walls of your hotel room being; the shared moans and gasps that escaped you both, the clapping of his hips against your ass as he pounded into like a rabbit experiencing his first heat and the sticky sound of your arousal.

you pushed back against him, matching his movements and chasing your pleasure.

carlos gripped your hips tighter, his fingers digging into your flesh as he increased his pace, the headboard banging rhythmically against the wall, only adding to the symphony of passion.

you buried your face in the pillow, muffling your cries of ecstasy as waves of pleasure crashed over you.

"god, you feel amazing," carlos panted, his voice husky with desire, he leaned forward, pressing his chest against your back and nipped at your earlobe "fucking made for mi vida"

the change in angle sent sparks of electricity through your body and you shuddered beneath him.

your fingers clutched desperately at the sheets, your knuckles began to turn white as you gripped tighter, a moan escaped your lips, the sound muffled by the pillow beneath you.

carlos's hot breath ghosted across your neck, sending shivers down your spine. "that's it, mi amor," he growled, his hips snapping forward with increased fervor. "let me hear you."

you turned your head, gasping for air as the pleasure built within you, carlos's hand slid down your side, fingers digging into your hip as he pulled you back against him.

the room filled with the sounds of skin on skin, heavy breathing, and desperate whimpers.

"carlos," you breathed, your voice wavering with each thrust. "i'm close... so close..."

he groaned in response, his movements becoming more erratic. "come for me, cariño," he commanded, his lips brushing against your shoulder.

your body tensed as waves of pleasure washed over you, carlos's name escaping your lips in a breathless moan, he held you tightly as you shuddered against him, climax hitting your harder than it ever had before.

you collapsed against the bed, carlos's hips still smacking against your own as he chased the release he so desired.

carlos's pace became more erratic, his breathing ragged as he neared his own peak, fingers digging into your hips, holding you steady as he thrust deeper.

you whimpered softly, oversensitive but reveling in his passion, you clenched around him and carlos's release soon followed, painting your inner walls white with his cum, as a guttural groan escaped him.

carlos had finally found his release, his body tensing as he pulsed inside you, he collapsed beside you, both of you panting heavily.

as your breathing slowed, carlos pulled you close, nuzzling into your neck, his lips brushing agaisnt your skin as he murmured words of affection.

you smiled, feeling sated and cherished in his arms, your fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest as you basked in the afterglow of you lovemaking together.

as your breathing slowly returned to normal, carlos peppered soft kisses along your neck and collarbone. "te amo," he murmured, his voice thick with emotion.

you turned to face him, drinking in the sight of his flushed cheeks and tousled hair.

"i love you too," you whispered back, tracing your fingers along his jawline, carlos pulled you closer, nuzzling into your hair, the gentle rise and fall of his chest lulled you into a peaceful contentment.

"that was fucking incredible" you breathed and carlos chuckled softly, the vibrations rumbling through his chest. "you're incredible," he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear.

a pleasant shiver ran down your spine as you nestled closer, relishing the warmth of his body against yours, your fingers lazily traced patterns on his skin, mapping the contours of his muscles beneath.

"i never want this moment to end," you sighed, your eyes fluttering closed, carlos's hand found yours, intertwining your fingers. "then let's make it last," he said, his voice low and husky.

he tilted your chin up, capturing your lips in a slow, sensual kiss that made your toes curl, as you melted into the kiss, the world around you faded away, there was only carlos, his touch, his scent, the taste of his lips.

“it’s official you know” you giggled lightly when the kiss finally broke

"what's official?" carlos asked, his eyes dancing with amusement as he gazed at you.

you propped yourself up on one elbow, a mischievous grin playing on your lips. "that we can’t be friends anymore because you've ruined me for anyone else, no one could ever compare to you carlito."

carlos's expression softened, his hand coming up to cup your cheek. "good," he said, his thumb gently caressing your skin. "because i don't plan on letting you go, ever."

your heart swelled with emotion and you leaned in to press a tender kiss to his lips, as you pulled back, carlos's eyes roamed your face, drinking in every detail as if committing it to memory.

“you've changed everything" carlos whispered, his voice filled with wonder. "i never knew i could feel this way."

you felt a warmth bloom in your chest at his words. "me neither," you admitted softly “my feelings for you were always the same until i saw you in different light”

you giggled at the thought “look at us, two childhood friends.. falling in love” carlos pulled you closer as his arm tightened around you, pulling you flush against him.

the heat of his skin against yours sent a delicious tingle through your body, you could feel his heart beating steadily beneath your palm, a soothing rhythm that matched your own and hopefully it would continue to match yours forever.

[waywardxrhea]

Jealousy: a Bucky Barnes one-shot

pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!reader (no use of y/n)

word count: 3k

You are working with Bucky, Sam, and Zemo to get intel on the Power Broker when the night takes an unexpected turn...

content warnings: minors DNI (18+) - smut (semi-public, oral - male receiving, fingering), PWP, jealousy, groping, drinking, language, name calling (slut - not by Bucky), some violence.

“You can come out now,” Helmut Zemo called to you through the bathroom door of his private jet you were currently holed up in after getting ready for an evening of espionage. 

“I feel weird…” you muttered, looking at yourself in the mirror. 

Sam, Bucky, Zemo, and you were getting ready for an intel gathering mission and this time it was your turn to gather intel. Why that meant you had to have your tits nearly falling out of the dress Zemo picked out, you didn’t know, but you were so close to getting the break you needed you would do nearly anything to get answers.

“Everyone feels weird at these things. The dresses are uncomfortable but when you’re somewhere looking at art you need to look like art yourself,” he told you. 

“Fine,” you sighed, giving yourself one more once over as the plane started to descend. 

On anyone else you would have said the dress was gorgeous. It flowed like a river when you walked, it was sparkly enough to be seen from space, and the combination of the low cut neckline and the slit in the leg was enough to make the devil himself blush. It just wasn’t you. Ever since you became an agent for SHIELD, the CIA, and now freelancing with this band of misfits, you’d grown accustomed to wearing pants and tactical gear and in your downtime it was leggings and chunky sweaters. Nothing even the slightest bit revealing.

So when you exited the bathroom you couldn’t help the blush that creeped up your neck as Sam gave a low whistle from where he stood in his steel blue pressed tux, saying, “Man you’re looking good!”

“Can it,” you told him, rolling your eyes and shoving your hands into the pockets of the dress. That part at least Zemo took your advice on when designing the dress which you guessed you were grateful for…

“I told you you’d look beautiful,” Zemo said. “A thank you would be nice.”

“Thank you,” you told him with a sarcastic smile, turning away and rolling your eyes. 

As you turned away, Bucky emerged into the main area of the plane, adjusting his tie and giving you a once over. “I think you’ve made him speechless,” Sam said teasingly, nudging Bucky in the ribs after he didn’t say anything for a few seconds. 

Sam had always teased the two of you because he knew you liked Bucky but you’d just never made a move. He’s got bigger things to worry about than me, you’d always told yourself. Besides, he’s on those dating apps and all, so that’s proof he isn’t interested, not in you... 

“No time for puppy eyes, we’re here,” Zemo said as the plane touched down. “Does everyone remember the plan?”

“Yes,” you replied. “I go in first and blend in for a while. Admire the art, catch the attention of the target, chat him up for a bit. Once I get what we need on the Power Broker I’ll excuse myself to the restroom and we make a break for it.”

“Correct,” he told you with a nod. 

“The three of us will go in separately and pretend to look at the art while making sure things don’t go sideways,” Sam added. 

“Right again. What is the code word for if you become compromised?”

“Champagne,” you told him instantly. Now this was the stuff you were built for.

“Are we ready?” Zemo asked as the group approached the door to the jet.

“As I’ll ever be,” you said, making your way to the door and carefully picking your way down the steps to head into the party. 

“Don’t strut or anything,” Sam told you teasingly as he watched you feign confidence on your way in. 

“Shut up, I don’t strut,” you snapped. 

“You do tend to strut when you’re in heels,” Zemo said. 

“Okay let’s not focus on my walk you guys!” you said before approaching the door to the art show. 

“Here, let me get that for you ma’am,” a suited man said, opening the door for you with a smile and a wink. 

You gave him a smug raise of your eyebrows in return as you walked through the door, narrowly missing the hand that was outstretched, no doubt trying to cop a feel. “I feel gross…” you mumbled as you walked further in, grabbing a glass of champagne from a tray nearby. 

While looking around, something caught your eye so you made your way to an art piece that you had only ever seen in textbooks. It was beautiful… A man slid up next to you to admire the piece as well, and casually asked, “You like it? It’s one of a kind.”

“It’s wonderful, I didn’t know this piece was even on the market!” you said, wonder in your eyes over the art in front of you.

“Maybe it could be yours if you give me something in exchange,” the man said suggestively, making you throw up a little in your mouth. 

You turned to see who the man was and saw that it was the target. Like some miracle he had walked up to you, but you weren’t about to take it for granted. So as much as it pained you to do it, you reached over to his arm and brushed your fingers over it and asked in your most innocently seductive voice, “And what may that be?”

“All right we’re all in, if this guy goes too far, say something and we’ll come get you,” Sam told you through the earpiece as he casually made his way over to the nearby bar. 

While he said this, you and the man made your way over to the VIP area where you two sat down on a couch and were served drinks of your choice. He glanced down at your breasts quickly before asking, “So what’s your name darlin? I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.”

You giggled and put on the charm as you walked two fingers up his chest, telling him, “You’d like to know, wouldn’t you?”

“That I would,” he replied, placing a hand on the bare portion of your thigh. He snaked his other arm around your back and rested his hand on your ass, pulling you close. “A pretty little thing like you shouldn’t have to attend these events alone.”

“Play your cards right and I could be your plus one from now on…” you told him, the corners of your lips turning up in a small smile. 

The next half hour felt like forever as you pushed for more drinks for your pleasant company and innocently sweet talked your way into the answers you needed. When you felt like you had enough intel to make our next move, you sweetly told him, “I’m so sorry, but you’ll have to excuse me, I need to go to the girls’ room. These drinks went right through me!”

“I’ll be here when you get back sweetheart,” he told you with a smile as you got up, grabbing your ass once more when you stood. 

As you turned the corner to make it seem convincing that you were actually looking for the restroom, you suddenly felt a hand grab your wrist and pull you toward them. You just about took them out before realizing that it was just Bucky. “What the hell, Buck?” you asked, taken aback. 

He put his finger to his ear, turning off his coms before whispering sharply, “Why’d you let him touch you like that?”

“W-what?” you asked, your eyebrows furrowing. 

“We’re getting out of here, you two need to get out before we’re compromised,” Zemo told you over the coms. 

“Be there in a minute,” you told him before turning your own off, following Bucky’s actions. Getting back to his question, you said, “I did what I had to do to get answers. Why do you care?”

“Because no one should be touching you like that,” he replied, looking deep into your eyes. 

You laughed a bit before asking sarcastically, “Oh yeah because it should be you right?”

What happened next shocked you to the core. Because Bucky, the man who had stolen your heart, said, “Yes,” before crashing his lips down onto yours, pinning you against the wall hard. A million thoughts ran through your mind and your head spun as you tried to process what was happening all while sinking into his soft lips. 

“Bucky…” you whispered between kisses as he held you close. Never breaking the makeout session, he felt around for any door handle he could find before pulling you into whatever room it revealed. 

Once the pair of you were in the room, he hiked you up onto the counter before resting his forehead on yours, saying, “It killed me seeing that bastard touching you like that. I wanted it to be me.”

With your senses finally kicked in after the shock of the kiss, you shook your head and whispered, “You don’t mean that. You’re just saying that because of how I look right now. If we were back at the hotel and I was in my leggings and sweater you’d just look the other way…”

“No,” he said as he looked deep into your eyes, pulling away and taking your hand in his. “This is something that’s been on my mind for a while, but I never had the courage to say it until now. I thought I could push away my feelings in order to not compromise our friendship and partnership but… I wanted to kill that guy for touching you like that.”

You opened your mouth to say something in response, but nothing came out. Instead you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him into another kiss. When you got back to it, your hands wandered each other's bodies desperately, Bucky’s metal hand slipping under your dress to cup your breast and mess with your sensitive nipple. You gasped at the cool touch and he took that as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss. 

As you ran one hand through his hair, he slowly slid his right hand down to your thighs, not moving any further than there without permission. Not even caring how dirty it made you feel to do so, at the touch you spread your legs for him and pulled away for a moment to whisper, “Please touch me…”

“As you wish,” he whispered, taking no time at all to begin toying with your swollen clit. He nipped at your earlobe before mumbling, “God you’re so wet.”

“That’s because you drive me crazy,” you admitted. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this…”

“Oh yeah?” he asked while gently pushing two fingers in and feeling around for that special spot inside. 

“Oh God yes,” you whimpered, your head rolling back as he found what he was looking for. No one had touched you like this in so long and it just felt so good and so…right with it being him. 

He added his thumb to the mix, rubbing your clit while his fingers worked their magic and you had to bite your knuckle to keep from screaming, it felt so good. Seeing your reaction, Bucky smirked and started kissing your neck, telling you between kisses, “I guess we shoulda talked about it because I’ve been dreaming of this for a while. First chance I get after tonight, I’m fuckin’ you into oblivion, doll.”

Those words were all it took to bring you impossibly closer to the edge. The idea of Bucky doing unspeakable things to you made everything that much better and you could feel yourself shaking as you approached your high. “Bucky…” you whispered shakily. 

Bucky stood there just admiring you as he picked up the pace of his fingers inside your sensitive cunt. He gave you a sideways smile before whispering, “God, just look at you. You’re so beautiful. Those little gasps and whimpers all for me? That’s enough to make me wanna go all night,” he said, making you even weaker in the knees. Your head rolled back and your breathing started to become uneven as he worked his magic inside, the pace somehow getting more vigorous the closer he brought you to release. The smirk was audible in his voice as he added, “Come on doll, I can tell you’re close, just cum for me.” 

And just like that with a few more strokes of his fingers you were experiencing the most intense orgasm you had in years. “Oh my God, fuck…” you moaned before he captured your lips on his own once more while you rode it out on his fingers which continued to pump in and out lazily as you clenched around them. 

“I think I can get used to that sound,” he told you with a smile once he pulled back from your kiss. 

You couldn’t help the school-girl-like giggle that escaped your lips before you got serious again, kissing him after jumping off the countertop. You spun the two of you around and pinned him to the counter this time, your fingers trailing their way down to his belt and messing with the buckle waiting for permission. “You don’t gotta do anything for me right now, the others are waiting. I’m sure they’re getting worried,” he told you.

“I think for once you need to put yourself before others,” you whispered, ghosting your fingers over the prominent tent in his slacks. 

He chuckled before giving in, saying, “Make it quick.”

“Oh trust me I can do that,” you told him with a wink before undoing his belt buckle and letting his slacks fall to his ankles. You toyed with the waistband of his underwear for a moment before pulling them down as you sank onto your knees in front of him. 

As you kissed the swollen tip of his penis he sucked in air through his teeth, telling you, “Don’t be a tease.” You giggled and ran one finger on the underside of his cock, the vein pulsing beneath your touch, and that had him like putty in your hands and asking, “Please?”

With that final almost whimper of a please from the man standing above you, you took his impressive length in your mouth. You got as far back as you could before beginning to bob your head, his right hand gently resting in your hair to guide you while his left had a death grip on the counter behind him. 

When you hollowed out your cheeks, Bucky’s knees almost buckled and he tightened his grip on your hair. At this you pulled back and teased his head with your tongue before going back in. The way his breath hitched in his throat and the way he started moving his hips showed he was losing the restraint he had on himself meaning that he was close, so you used your hand to work what you couldn’t with your mouth and that’s exactly when he lost it. 

He had never felt anything like the feeling he was experiencing right now as he gently thrust his hips forward, relishing in the feeling of pure pleasure he was getting from your mouth. “Fuckin’ hell!” he groaned as he came to his high, his warm release filling your mouth while his grip on the counter tightened, his metal hand breaking the marble in the process. 

Coming back up to eye level with him after he finished, you smirked before telling him, “Quiet down Sergeant, you don’t want anyone to catch us, do you?”

“Oh next time you’ll be regretting that, doll,” he growled playfully before pulling his clothes back up while you fixed your makeup with what you brought in your pockets. As you fixed your hair too, he looked at you in the mirror and said, “Really though, that was nice. Something I’ve been wanting for a while.”

“Me too,” you replied, kissing him tenderly once you looked presentable again. 

After you and Bucky got yourselves calmed down from all the excitement you headed back out to the party so you could go back to the jet. As Bucky adjusted his belt while the pair of you exited the room, you noticed the man from earlier was standing down the hall talking with someone. He seemed to notice Bucky adjusting his belt and that goofy smile on his face so he rolled his eyes and shoved past you, muttering, “Slut.” 

“What did you just call her?” Bucky asked, sudden white hot rage filling his whole body. 

“I called her what she is, a slut!” the man spat loudly.

 And that was all it took for Bucky to wind back and punch the man in the face, taking care to use his metal arm to do so. Once the man was on the ground, Bucky took the man’s collar in his hand, yanking him up and growling, “Don’t you ever talk about a woman like that again. Got it?” 

“Got it!” the man whimpered as Bucky threw him back down on the ground. 

With that settled, you two left the party and got back to the jet, walking hand in hand. Sam took one look at you and told Zemo, “You owe me twenty bucks.”

“We don’t know that!” Zemo retorted defensively. 

“Oh don’t we now?” Sam asked with a laugh. He turned his attention to the pair of you and asked, “Did you or did you not go MIA so you could have sex?”

“I- What- We-” you tried to say, stumbling over your words as your face heated up. 

Bucky rolled his eyes and chuckled before saying, “Whichever one bet that we had sex lost.”

“I told you!” Zemo shouted victoriously. 

“But did you at least do something?” Sam asked, fishing in his wallet for a twenty. 

“That’s for us to know and you to not find out,” Bucky replied, kissing your knuckles before leading you to a seat on the plane where you could rest your feet for the flight. As you sat down and relaxed into Bucky’s strong embrace, you had a feeling that tonight was the first of many pleasurable nights to come. 

a/n: so this is my first one shot on tumblr! I wrote this one night when I just couldn't get Bucky out of my head, I hope y'all enjoy!

and if you don't follow me or know my account, feel free to check out my Steve Rogers long fic here!

[nisuna]

Requesting Toji fucking a single mom. That’s it. Ily hope you’re doing good ❤️

Hi Helloooo (Ily toooo), finally some goofy bickering and mindless smut 🥳 enough serious talk for now

Hope you enjoy! (read part 2 here!!)

TW: Pure smut, a lot of bickering, just a one night stand, right? or is it.., oraf (f. receiving), overstimulation, protected sex, a lot of positions, brat taming in a way, manhandling, tit sucking, Toji x single mom!reader, this turned out longer than I expected, 2.5k words

<3masterlist<3

---------------strictly 18+ MDNI-----------------

It was the first time you went out in months and you definitely weren't looking for a hook up. You just wanted to go out and have some fun, now that your kids were staying at their grandparents' for the weekend. So you definitely didn't expect to get hit on by the biggest man you've ever seen. His eyes were almost eating you alive. He even had his hand on your hip, while his thumb was gently swiping over the area. You were definitely enjoying yourself until he finally spoke up.

"First time here, doll?", he asked, full of confidence.

"Huh, doll?", you sounded confused. "Do people really use these nicknames nowadays?", you thought and felt your smile fade as you backed up a bit.

"What's wrong?", he felt his confidence crumble a bit. Usually, girls were eating the nickname right up. You definitely were a handful, but nothing he couldn't handle. Challenge accepted.

"Nothing really, I just haven't been flirted with in a long time and definitely not like that."

"I'll help you ease back into it, no problem.", surely, that had to convince you. However, you weren't playing along at all. You backed up even more.

He was starting to get impatient. Now he had to have you no matter what. "Why are you so difficult? I can show you a real good time. You'll be missin' out big time."

"You know what?", you approached him, "I'm not one of your dumb little girls that swoon at your every action you know", you answered while poking your finger right between his tits (were they bigger than yours?). You'd be lying if you said you weren't taken aback by his sheer mass, but you couldn't give in so easily.

"I know, I know, I haven't had a mature woman in a long time. Why don't you remind me what it's like?", he put his arm around your waist and pulled you flush against his hard chest.

"You yap a lot, you know that."

"Why are you holdin' back so much? I know you want me just as bad, hm?", he took a long whiff against your neck. You had to have nerves of steel not to whimper on the spot. "Pleasee", he fucking pouted at you.

"Shit, fine. But not here.", you finally gave in and he shot you the biggest grin you've ever seen a grown man do while he pulled you to one of the bathrooms.

------

"H-hold on. What are you, a horny teenager?", you panicked as soon as he picked you up and sat you down on one of the sinks.

"I might as well be. I'll do anything to get a taste of that delicious body of yours.", he stared you down and poked his tongue out. Shitty smooth talker.

As soon as he slottet himself between your legs, he began pulling at your dress. One of his hands went down between your legs and started rubbing at the already damp fabric while he licked a thick stripe up your neck.

"Shit", you tried to hold back your moans. He, however, showed no mercy as he began to suck on your neck, working down to your cleavage. As if to test the waters, he grabbed a handfull of your tit only to halt all movements.

"They're real, right?", he asked, almost too excited.

"Yeah, why? Did most of your other dolls have them done?", you fake mocked him before letting out a moan as he pulled his hand from between your legs and onto your chest.

"Yeah, not that I really care. Tits are tits. But yours definitely feel better than the last few I've had."

"Last few? How much does this man fuck?", you couldn't dwell on the thought for long though, because he was already pulling down your dress and latching his hungry mouth onto one of your nipples.

"Slow down ah- what if someone comes in?"

"Don't mind. They're probably too drunk to notice anyway." Thouché.

He was really taking his sweet time playing with your tits, but he must be getting restless as well, because he kept rubbing his hard cock against your, at this point, soaked panties.

"Are we gonna fuck, or are you just gonna dry hump me until you cum in your pants?"

"Better, I'll eat you out."

"Really? You don't seem like the type to just eat a girl out."

"Yeah, I usually just get my dick sucked. But I'm feelin' adventurous today because of you, mama."

"Mama, huh? I guess that's better than doll." You hummed and saw him get on his knees in front of you. Having such a huge man kneel between your legs definitely gave you an ego boost. So you were quick to put your legs over his shoulders and grab a handfull of his dark hair. He, however, didn't make a move and was just looking. Pulling on his hair and squishing his face between your thighs finally made him look up at you.

"Then you better get to work, I won't cum fron you just oogling me."

As soon as the words left your mouth, your panties were pulled to the side and your breath hitched as you felt his hot mouth on you.

"Just you wait", he mumbled between licks, "I told you, I'm gonna make it worth your while."

For having said that he doesn't do this often, he did have good technique. He mostly focused his tongue on your clit, alternating between flattening it and using just the tip. From time to time he even slipped a finger or two in to curl them exactly into your sweet spot. However, it was embarrassing how often he stopped just to breathe in your scent.

He even kept mumbling, "best pussy I ever had" between slurps. Your cheeks were getting hot and your hips started to move against his face. And with your teamwork it didn't take long for you to slap a hand over your mouth to muffle your lewd moans as you came on his tongue. Even after you've calmed down he kept his mouth on you making your legs tremble and toes curl in overstimulation. You had to yank on his hair to finally get him off of you.

When you looked at him, his eyes were blown wide and his chin was glistening with your juices. You didn't look any better, your hair was a mess and your skin was shining with sweat.

After he got back up and pressed himself against you, he asked, "Round two at your place?" Not that you'd ever admit it, but he had you hooked. So, of course, you gave him a nod and he gave you a satisfied grin in return.

-----

As soon as both of you arrived home, he didn't waste any more time and clothes were flying off faster than you had anticipated.

He's never impatient with hookups. Afterall, they're usually the ones that beg him to finally fuck them. But you were far too composed, even squeezing in some snarky remarks here and there. He knew you'd be trouble after your first interaction at the club. You weren't easy and his ego told him that he had to have you no matter what. But he didn't expect you to stay so calm. You had him practically begging to finally get inside of you. Finally a worth opponent, huh? He didn't even argue when you told him he had to wear a condom.

When he finally had you where he had wanted you all night, naked and in bed, he smirked and ripped the condom wrapper with his teeth.

"I gotta be the biggest one you've ever had.", he boasted while rolling the condom on.

"Don't flatter yourself", you lied. Any virgin would be shaking in her boots at this sight. You haven't had any action in a long time, but you are definitely no virgin. Surely you could take it, right?

"I'll make sure you'll never forget my dick. You'll want to come back for more. Not that you can have it again, anyway. No offence, commitment just isn't my thing. One night stands is where I shine. So, don't catch feelings alright?"

"Yeah, yeah, you yap way too much. Just shut up and give it to me.", was the last thing you said before pulling him into the first kiss of the night.

He was a little taken aback by your sudden boldness. He's not a big kisser, but this feels quite nice. So it didn't take long for him to compose himself and slowly press into you.

You overestimated yourself a bit, as the first stretch felt like you were about to rip in half, especially once he bottomed out the first time. But mama didn't raise no quitter, so you took it like a champ and dug your nails into his back instead of whining about it. However, some tears did manage to make their way into your eyes and you fully expected a snarky comment to come your way, but to your surprise, he leaned down to kiss them away.

You could cut the tension with a knife as you both just looked at each other. To lighten the mood you playfully hit his chest and chuckled. "Wow, didn't know you could be such a gentleman. But enough now", you put your arms around his neck and pulled him close. "Fuck me till I pass out", you purred into his ear.

After that, he finally snapped out of his trance and went to pound town. The first few thrusts almost knocked the wind out of your lungs, but once you got used to them, you felt extra daring.

"That all you got?", you challenged.

He didn't react at first, but he was determined to shut you up. He looked strong, but you were still taken aback when he pulled you up with him as he knelt down on the bed. One arm was behind him supporting his weight and the other was grabbing a handfull of your ass. He smirked at your shocked expression and you couldn't contain your voice when he started to pound into you from below.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned down, pressing your lips against his. You were trying your hardest to muffle the embarassing moans that just kept spilling out of your mouth at his every move. He felt his ego rejuvenate at your obedience, which is why he started to kiss you back with much more enthusiasm than before.

"Feels good, right? Nobody's ever fucked you this good, huh?", he mumbled against your lips. You frantically shook your head, going right back to kissing him. It felt overwhealming at first, but you found your composure soon enough. He was trying his hardest to tame you, increasing his speed and spanking your ass between thrusts. But even that didn't shut you up so he finally snapped.

"You've been running that mouth of yours the whole night. Don't you think it's about time you finally shut up and take it. Just lay there and look pretty."

You cracked a smile and whispered, "make me."

Now he's had it with you. Before you could react, he pulled out of you and turned you on your tummy.

And before you could make another snarky remark, he pushed back into you and pulled your back flush against his chest. He's holding you up with one arm while sticking his thick fingers in your mouth. You felt drool drip out of your mouth and your eyes roll back at the new angle.

For the first time tonight, you were truly speechless and his ego grew incredibly more as he started to pound into you.

"Good girl, fucking finally."

You instinctively started sucking on his fingers at the praise. Is this what they call brat taming? It's actually quite nice being manhandled like that.

After a while he pulled his fingers out of your mouth and went straight between your legs. You let out the most obscene mewl, throwing your head back on his shoulder as soon as his fingers started to rub tight circles in your throbbing clit.

"Cumming on my cock will feel much better. I can promise you that."

And god, he didn't lie because the orgasm in the bathroom doesn't compare to what you're feeling right now. He had your back arching in his tight hold and you felt yourself go limp as he just used you. It didn't take long for him to reach his limit as well and he came with a low groan and bite to your shoulder.

He barely caught you after he let go and you almost fell face first on your bed from exhaustion. This fuck has definitely been worth your while.

You two didn't speak much after that as you went to clean up in the bathroom. This was it, right? It's kind of a shame that you were never going to see him again. It was nice having some company, but oh well.

"See yourself out once you've finished alright?", was the last thing you said before lying down.

"Sure."

Usually, that would be it, right? That's his thing, just a quick fuck and then dip. But oddly enough today, that just didn't feel right. It's been a long time since a woman made him sweat so much. Girls in their early twenties truly didn't compare to you. So when he saw you just laying there so peacefully he felt an urge to stay longer.

"I'll just leave as soon as I wake up. One night won't hurt."

You were already fast asleep when he snuggled up to your side. So much for not catching feelings, huh?

---------

When you woke up, it was with his heavy arm draped over your waist. You rubbed your eyes and tried to sit up, but no chance with the tight grip he had on you. So you opted for shaking him.

"What are you still doing here? I thought you said you only do one night stands.", you questioned. With a groan he finally gave you room to turn around and face him.

"Answer me now.", you poked and pulled on his cheek.

"Just leave me be. Your bed's way comfier than mine and it smells nice, too." In his sleep drunken state, he nuzzled his face against yours. He was nothing like the man you got to know yesterday. He was kind of cute, actually. So you just sighed and didn't resist his hugs.

"Want to stay till breakfast?" Nod. You didn't expect this outcome, but oddly enough, it wasn't an unwelcome one. You missed sharing a bed with someone anyway, so where's the harm in trying it out with him. You're gonna enjoy this for as long as it lasts. Who knows what'll happen.

---------

Tell me what you think!! xoxo

[fryingpan1234567]

Missed You—Liam Mairi x marked!necromancer!reader

guess who finished Fourth Wing today

sorry this is less actually Liam focused and more bringing-him-back-from-the-dead at first, but you get to be a total badass and you still get to see him later, so like it’s fine

f!reader, we ignore canon and I have no idea how the fortress is built sorry, reader is an absolute badass, this is prolly not gonna be proofread

happy reading!

————————————————————————

You hadn’t seen Liam in five days.

It was the last of the five-day War Games excursion you and your classmates had been subjected to just before your graduation to second year, and you were getting restless. When Violet got moved to Xaden’s little band of… people, Liam of course in tow, it had caused some shifting in other groups as well. You’d gotten dumped in some random wing with people you barely knew, only your dragon and memories to keep you company, the feeling of Liam’s fingers tracing down your face, your neck, your waist, your thighs…

Well, you didn’t particularly want to masturbate while on night watch as your unknowing squad peacefully slept the night away, but—

“Getting needy, are we?” Sif teased in your head, crashing your train of thought. You shifted uncomfortably, wishing to ease the ache between your legs. You stared into the dying fire to distract yourself.

“I am not needy,” you shot back mentally so as to not wake your squadmates. “I just… miss him. Is that a crime?”

“No, but jacking off six feet from your superior officer might be.”

“I hate you. I really, truly do.”

“I could bite you in half.”

“You love me too much—“

Sif slammed her mental barrier down, effectively blocking you out. You huffed a laugh to yourself. You think, despite the constant sass and general need to get in the last word, your orange scorpiontail was probably the best thing that had ever happened to you— aside from Liam, of course. After all, she’d given you power greater than any rider could dream of.

But you had to keep that to yourself.

Necromancy was absolutely unheard of. You knew, because you’d checked— normally you stay far away from the Archives, but you’d gone soon after discovering your signet months ago and checked the records for any mention of magic like yours. Nothing. It was supposed to be the one thing dragons couldn’t give to humans.

And yet here you were, and you couldn’t tell anyone. Certainly not your professors— a marked one with that kind of power? They’d kill you. But even Xaden, Bodhi, any of the others… you didn’t know enough. You thought you could trust them. You were pretty sure. Xaden was your savior, in a way, but he was also mildly unstable if you were being honest. Even Liam’s loyalty to him made it impossible to share your secret.

You sighed. Liam. You’d heard your section leader say something about defending an outpost, but that’s about all you knew about his assignment.

He’s tough. And smart. And with Xaden and Violet. He’s surely fine.

You fell asleep, a pit of unease growing in your chest.

In the morning, everybody flew back to Basgiath, as the game had concluded. You hadn’t seen much action, not that you cared as much about that as you did about seeing Liam again.

In the sea of milling students, you’d normally be able to spot him immediately, his golden hair a head above the rest. You stood on your toes to scan the area, but you didn’t see him.

You did see Xaden, pushing his way towards you through the crowd.

“Xaden!” You gripped his hand in greeting and resisted the urge to look over his shoulder for your boyfriend.

“Hey, y/n.” The way Xaden didn’t smile made yours fade immediately. His tone of voice only ripped the hole that had been growing in your core since the night before bigger, and you had a horrible feeling he didn’t have good news for you. “How were your past few days? Sorry we left you behind.”

Yeah, all the other marked kids had gone with Xaden. Liam included. Who you still did not see anywhere at all.

“It’s— they were fine. Where’s Liam?” you blurted, moving to pull your forearm out of Xaden’s grip.

His fingers tightened, onyx eyes boring into yours. “Y/n… we lost Liam.”

“You—“ Your mind reeled, heart dropping like a stone into your stomach. But not as far as it should’ve. “You what?”

“There was a venin attack on our outpost,” Xaden said quietly so other students wouldn’t hear. You stared up at him with wide, horrified eyes, noting the grief etched into his features. He’d known Liam much longer than you. “Our options were to run or fight. He chose to fight.”

It probably wasn’t the question you should be asking, but it’s the one that came out of your mouth: “You didn’t burn him, right?”

“We—“ Xaden blinked, clearly not expecting that to be your first reaction either. “No, he and Deigh are in the family tomb at the fortress. Why—“

Your nails dug into Xaden’s forearm, a burning urgency building in your throat. You could do something. You could fix this.

“You need to take me to him right now,” you demanded.

Xaden pulled a face. “It’s broad daylight, we just got back, it’s probably not good for you to see your recently deceased boyfriend and his dragon, I could list a thousand reasons why we can’t just fly off again—“

“Xaden,” you begged, then pulled him down to cup a hand to his ear and whisper, “I can bring him back. That’s my signet. But it won’t work if the decaying process starts, so you have to take me to him right fucking now.”

He stiffened, staring down at you in disbelief. You stared back, unwavering.

“You serious?”

“Deadly, Xaden,” you insisted. “Please.”

There was zero hesitation as he dragged you across the room towards the perch where all the dragons still resided. You spotted Sif next to Tairn, because of course she’s always one to push the limits. Her eyes narrowed on you as you approached.

“You told the wingleader,” she hissed in your mind, coiled and angry. Her barbed tail flicked where it rested by her talons, digging into the stone of the wall.

“To save Liam,” you snapped, “of course I did. I can save him—“

“You’ve only revived woodland creatures so far and then passed out for hours at a time,” Sif growled as she allowed you to mount anyways. She flapped her wings, preparing to take off after Sgaeyl.

Your stomach was left on the balcony as the two of you launched into the air, taking after Xaden ahead of you. There were shouts of alarm from below, but you didn’t look back. You had to power through and, most vitally, not get caught by anyone trying to drag you back to the school. Sif, being only marginally smaller than Sgaeyl, was able to keep pace. Your job was to stay on.

“I can do it,” you insisted aloud. Xaden glanced down at you curiously.

“Have you ever brought a human back?” he shouted down to you over the roaring wind.

Your turn to pull a face. “Biggest thing I’ve ever brought back was a mountain lion,” you called back, ignoring the ripple of fury from Sif at yet another spilled secret. Doesn’t matter now. “But I figure because a human is smaller…”

“Will you burn out?” he asked.

Fantastic question. Gods, you hope not. You shouldn’t— the mountain lion in question was much bigger than Liam and you really hadn’t slept for that many days afterwards, so—

“But it will not be just the boy,” Sif grumbled. “He’s still tethered to Deigh, remember? A full size red scorpiontail? You will burn out.”

“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” you bit back. Your legs tightened a fraction around Sif’s shoulders. “I won’t burn out. I… can’t.”

You couldn’t dwell on the notion of not being able to bring Liam and Deigh back. If you did— if you didn’t—

“Easy, human,” Sif hummed, a stark contrast to her earlier tone. Warmth faded through you, compliments to the rippling muscled scales beneath you. “I will do everything I can to aid you. We will… try.”

“Thank you,” you managed back, too tired to speak aloud anymore. Risking a glance upwards at your wingleader, Xaden’s gaze was laser focused on the mountain range miles away you knew marked the border of Navarre’s ward.

You flew for nearly thirteen straight hours.

Normally, with average speeds and ample rest time, the trip would take closer to a full day. But Sif and Sgaeyl were not flying at an average speed. And they didn’t stop once.

It was dark again when you and Xaden stumbled off your dragons on the roof of the Aretia fortress, each of you feeling the weight of your dragons’ exhaustion. But you didn’t fall. No time.

“Come on,” Xaden beckoned, gesturing towards the yawning doorway that led into a dark ramp. You’d never seen this part of the fortress before. To your surprise, Sif was able to follow you down the tunnel.

“Where are we?” you asked, turning your attention away from Sif after she flicked her tongue at you. Xaden’s pace was harder to keep as, unlike your dragons, the two of you were very different in stature. Your legs were significantly shorter than his, and you nearly had to run to keep up with his stride.

He conjured a mage light to float above his head like a ghostly halo, and you did the same. There were no other lights in the corridor.

“Entrance to the crypt,” was all he said. Figures. “Big enough for dragons to carry other dragons, if need be.”

Your heart tugged at the thought of Sgaeyl or maybe Tairn hauling Deigh’s lifeless body down this same tunnel, Xaden carrying Liam’s in tow. You shook the image away. You were gonna need your concentration.

You didn’t speak the rest of the journey down, down into the mountain, farther underground than any other part of the fortress. Eventually the tunnel widened into a positively cavernous room, and you couldn’t suppress your gasp.

It was stunning. From what little light your mage lights could provide, you saw vaulted ceilings painted with murals of battles from even before the rebellion. Massive pillars stood close to the walls, engraved with names going back generations. There was a massive shrine to Malek right in the center of it all.

And scattered around the floor were skeletons. You noticed it was two to a group— a human, and a dragon, the dragon’s curled protectively around the human’s. Of course there were some humans without dragons, accompanied instead by artifacts or offerings left by family. This was generations of Aretians.

And the sloping form of a red dragon that did not rise and fall in turn with its breaths.

“Oh, gods,” you whispered aloud to yourself, breaking into a run as you passed Xaden. You came around Deigh’s head and froze as your gaze met Liam.

He looked… asleep.

No blood. No horrible injuries, like you’d been afraid of. You hadn’t thought to ask many questions about what had happened on the way here, and now was certainly not the time. Liam’s head rested against Deigh’s limp forearm, golden curls falling softly against the scales there. Some remaining blood was smeared across Deigh’s wings and a couple spots on his underbelly, but no gaping wounds on him either. Brennan cleaned him up, if you had to guess.

You fell to your knees at their side. Xaden knelt beside you, and you knew he didn’t want to pressure you, but he was more anxious than you were. You felt Sif’s presence stalk around Deigh’s other end and stop, sitting by his tail as hers flicked over his spinal ridges. They’d been friends. A new wave of grief washed over you.

But grief for what? You were here, weren’t you?

“What do you need?” Xaden asked you softly.

It’s go time now. “Maybe stand back. I’ve been told it gets pretty bright.”

Xaden did as you suggested and backed away, and you scooted closer to Liam and Deigh. Your lips parted in a shaky sigh as your fingers carded through his hair for the first time in nearly a week. His skin was ice cold to the touch. Your other hand found one of Deigh’s talons, and you braced yourself for what was to come.

“Remember to not die,” Sif reminded you, hints of anxiety leeching into her voice. You returned her earlier wave of comfort.

“I can do this,” you promised.

You found the floor of your childhood bedroom. You looked under the bed for Sif’s power, and you brought it out, like you’d slide out a box of old toys to go through in nostalgia.

This was not nostalgia. This was hot, syrupy energy seeping from your heart to your shoulders, down your arms, into your hands, and finally into golden locks and red scales.

You inhaled deeply. You could feel their pain, still residing after however many days it had been since they left this plane of existence. You grabbed onto that pain and tugged it like a loose thread on a sweater, because you knew their souls were on the other end of it.

“Malek, forgive me, for I am about to rob you of not one but two brave warriors’ souls,” you murmur aloud to no one but yourself. The pain gets brighter, more intense. Good. It’s working.

“Okay?” Sif nudges, but you don’t answer. You have to focus. This is going to be more difficult than anything you’ve ever done before.

And you’re going to do it. For Liam.

The pain unfolds deep in your chest, worsening inch by treacherous inch as you forcibly drag two souls back into their bodies. But it’s working, and that’s the only fucking thing that matters.

“Malek, forgive me,” you repeat in a whimper. “I commend you my own soul, my own heart, you may punish me for eternity when I go into the ground, but please, please,” you beg. You feel like you’re melting from the inside out. But you can also feel Liam and Deigh coming closer, and that means you can’t stop or slow down.

“Uh, you okay?” Xaden calls from somewhere behind you. Sif audibly hisses and snaps at him for disturbing your concentration. “What?! Sorry, I— she’s— y/n, you’re glowing. Are you supposed to glow?”

“Yep,” you choke out over your shoulder. “Good, all good. Shut up now, please.”

He did. It took several more minutes, maybe hours, before you had Deigh and Liam’s souls floating just above each of their bodies. You were shaking like a leaf. You could probably pass out from heat exhaustion right now. It was the most pain you’d ever been in. You’d dragged two souls straight out of Malek’s hands and into your own.

Final push. Liam’s whispered name fell from your lips as his soul settled back into his physical body. His chest jolted to life beneath you with new air and a revived heartbeat, as did Deigh’s. You vaguely hoped he wouldn’t roll forwards and crush the two of you.

Liam’s bright blue eyes cracked open. His gaze met yours for half a second, and he smiled, that dimple that you loved so much appearing, and—

And you passed out, falling back into Sif’s outstretched wing.

Those blue eyes were the first thing you saw when yours opened, several hours later.

You were back at Basgiath.

You sat up way too fast, and the world tilted, sliding you right back down onto your pillow. Well, not your pillow— this was not your room, it was Liam’s, judging by the window placement and—

Liam.

Your eyes snapped to his, which crinkled as he smiled at you. You nearly started sobbing right then and there.

Liam! Alive! Smiling at you!

“Morning, sunshine,” he said softly, and that was it for you. You curled into his arms, sobs wracking your sore body as he held you tight to his chest, holding you like he never wanted to let you go again.

“Li— Liam,” you hiccuped, muffled from his blankets. “I— you—“

“I know, baby,” he whispered, pressing a kiss into the crown of your head. “You’re okay. I’m okay, somehow. Breathe for me.”

It took several moments, but you came down from your high, clutching at Liam’s bare shoulder with shaking hands. He kissed your tears away and whispered comforts to you all the while, which was a little bit ridiculous. He’d literally just come back from the dead, and he was comforting you.

You, who’d brought him back. It fucking worked.

“It worked,” you whispered aloud.

Liam laughed at that, his sweet dimple making its appearance again. You couldn’t squash the smile that took over your face at the sight. You resisted the urge to kiss it like you had so many times before.

“It worked, baby,” he agreed. He stared into your eyes with his electrifying blue ones, grin softening into a contented smile. “Xaden told me… as much as he could, I think. Your signet is necromancy, which you neglected to tell any of us.” He poked at your side teasingly, and you twisted away from him with a giggle.

“I’m sorry,” you managed, finding your hand under the covers and laying it on Liam’s forearm, lazily drawing circles there. Fuuuck, you’d missed him.

He pressed a kiss to your temple. “It’s okay; I get why you did it. It’s dangerous for people to know.” He studied your face thoughtfully. “You’re…”

“Too nice to be a necromancer?” you supplied, half joking. You did have a lot of friends for a reason.

“I was gonna say amazing,” he said, “but close enough. Did Sif tell you she and Sgaeyl had to pretty much carry Deigh and I back here, by the way?”

Your jaw dropped. You supposed it made sense— it’s not like Liam or his dragon would be in tip top shape right off the bat after coming back from the dead. But still, the image was frankly hilarious.

You reached out to Sif. “Is that true? Did you actually have to carry Deigh?”

“And your sorry unconscious ass,” she responded immediately. Her words were biting, but her tone was undeniably relieved. “The wingleader took your boy. He seems touch starved, but he also seems like he’d never admit that aloud.”

You suppressed a laugh, clapping a hand to your mouth. If that wasn’t the most Xaden thing you’d ever heard in your life…

“She filling you in on all the glorious details?” Liam raised a perfect eyebrow, clearly amused.

“Sif says Xaden is touch starved but he won’t admit that to anyone,” you relayed.

Liam snorted. “I’ve never been cuddled by that man before in like twenty years of knowing each other except for the past thirteen hours. Maybe don’t tell him I said that.”

You exhaled your laugh, curling back into him. Your ear found his chest, and the steady thrum of his heartbeat nearly made you break down again.

Mental note: sacrifice a very large animal to Malek later today.

What time is it?

You poke your head up over Liam’s shoulder to find the clock he keeps at his bedside. Nearly noon.

“How long was I out for?” you realized, hoping it hadn’t been days like it normally was. After that, you wouldn’t be surprised if you’d passed out for a month.

“The whole time we were there, the whole flight back, and four hours,” Liam recited as if he’d been counting. Knowing him, he probably was. The thought brings a smile to your face. “We had Brennan mend what he could. You’d probably sleep through the month if he hadn’t sped the process up.”

“Read my mind,” you murmured, rubbing your face against his chest like an affectionate cat. He huffed a laugh, carding a hand through your hair.

“You missed me, huh?” he murmured back in the same tone as yours.

Preening dickhead. You figured you’d indulge him, if only because he was definitely right this time.

“Yeah,” you said quietly, simply, and that was it. You could talk about the battle that cost him his life some other time. You could get his and Deigh’s help groveling to Malek later. You could answer all his questions about your power when he felt the need to ask them. But for now, you were great right where you were at: in his arms, in his bed, as it should be. Thinking he was dead 24 hours ago seems distant, a faraway worry.

Alive. Liam Mairi is alive. And he’s all yours.

————————————————————————

see I fixed it! everyone’s happy now

[oceanlipgloss]

POTION

RAFAYEL.

+ about: one summer noon, Rafayel becomes an unwilling part of the cat population. I did him dirty; can he can get an F in the chat?

+ warnings: humour slaughterhouse aka very, very lame jokes (crack is the foundation, fluff is the cement)

What a diabolical creature.

Huge eyeballs, bigger than jellyfish. Staring at him. The eyes of a serial killer or a netherworld monster. Pointy ears, sharper than traffic cones. Eavesdropping on every sound. Gnashing teeth, the ugliest smile he had ever seen.

And now he, too, looked like that.

A creepy cat.

The tiny doodle watched him from its high vantage point on the white wall. Not just a cat, but a smiling cat. Not just a smiling cat, but a demon drawn in black marker. Very hard to ignore.

He could not bear to glance at the mirror. For the first time. Plum fur shot up in spears and spikes, likening him to a downy porcupine.

A glass of soda floated into his thoughts.

Cool droplets flowing down his throat.

Lying down on the floor.

Falling asleep in the summer sun.

Waking up.

A gnarly cat.

Potion.

Somehow, somehow, he had drank a potion, shimmering and clear.

Thirst sure has its perks.

Where had that stuff even come from?

Familiar in flavour—bubbles and lime.

Even as an artist, he thought about how that was all much too surreal. Absolutely wild. Truth be told? A concoction of nightmares combined.

Violet cat. Nice colour palette, but useless paws. Unable to hold a paintbrush. What meaning was there to life now? Would she accept him for he had become?

The insecurities were a terror.

Dramatic as he was—rightfully so, for once—he had screamed at the top of his lungs. The only sound that rang out in the messy studio was the loudest cat noise he had heard to date, however.

A shrill meow.

This had to be some sort of eldritch curse or divine punishment, didn’t it?

The God of all cats was avenging those backstabbing furballs for the endless slander he had subjected them to. It’s all his doing, yeah?

When plagued by anger or fright, cats hiss. Now a wrathful cat himself, he hissed as well.

Familiar hands, scooping him up.

So weird.

Her palms, warm against his sunlit fur, but also much, much bigger. To his newfound bundle of a form, that was too unfamiliar; she had always been shorter, smaller.

No sparkle of surprise.

Was the potion her plan all along? Start location: sinister doodle on the wall.

Nothing made sense.

Actually, naked walking jellyfish, tree-climbing sea turtles, and grass-eating sharks would’ve all been way more credible.

Inspiration!

Facing his reflection wasn’t an option, but he so desperately wanted to make sure this wasn’t a figment of a sick hallucination, so he almost had the urge to say, ‘draw me like one of your French cats’ just to see if he had now really become a member of the world of felines—but his tongue could only muster cat-voice.

Instead, a pop of colour gleamed in his mind.

He wanted her attention, and cats like affection. Why not make use of the situation? Blame it on the catty qualities later.

With shiny eyes he would have liked to ask, ‘would you still love me if I was a cat?’

The perfect answer and just what he was longing for.

Warm fur pressed against her neck. Fingertips tickled a soft stomach. Giggles chimed in pointed ears. Mellow weight on her chest.

So much doting. Her lips kissed the tip of his eraser-pink nose. Compliments poured onto his head like paint in all colours.

He felt really, really hot. Fur, glee, embarrassment.

Cats can’t blush, but in his flustered mind cherry-red mingled with plum-purple on the tips of his ears to gleam like crystal powder.

An unusual picture.

Steady, steady. Her heartbeat was steady. His heart raced into next week. It was worse now, though. Cat hearts double up the speed of human ones. Drowsy with sunlight.

What a long, long day.

One good thing came out of it.

Love. So much love.

Once this nap ends, will he have two legs again?

Summer sunshine would butter his studio pale yellow and bright white by then. He would be sprawled out on the floor, sketches scattered all over. The cat would continue to stare at him from on the wall.

The cat.

Everything was that weird cat’s fault. Those big, evil eyes followed him as he painted, stalking his every movement and creation. He hated it so, yet did not have the heart to erase it. She had climbed up there and drawn that little traitor.

What a silly, hideous thing, haunting his subconscious.

What a diabolical dream.

+notes: dude, I can't believe that my first Rafayel fic is...*flailing hands* this. Something so silly...listen, memes and silly crap occupy an entire apartment complex in my brain, but what did I actually just write? No fucking clue. 0. Null.

All I know is that this is my first ever crack fic. And at the time, I thought it would be funny. Now I don't know if my opinion still stands. I merely wrote this in 3hrs 17mins. Not even a 4hr timeskip between coming up with the idea and writing it. I was that excited for the crack.

Was it worth it? No, maybe. Yes, perhaps. Idek. However, I'm not sorry for making fun of Rafayel, of course. Affectionately bullying him and being sadistic happen to be favourable pastimes of mine. I love him, bro.

+ MASTERLIST

+ AO3 POST

©𝙤𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣𝙡𝙞𝙥𝙜𝙡𝙤𝙨𝙨

[angelasscribbles]

All That She Wants Chapter 3: Let's Talk

Series: All That She Wants

Fandom: The Royal Romance

Pairings for this chapter: Riley x Drake

Word Count: 1,264

Rating: M

Warnings for this chapter: tiny flakes of lemon

My other stuff: Master List.

Sweat beaded on his forehead, matting his hair and dripping onto the glistening skin of the woman writhing underneath him.

It had been a month since Drake had taken Riley back to his room and done all the things he’d fantasized about for so long. She’d come back the next day and the day after that.

And then she’d gone back to being friendly and polite, but nothing more.

Until tonight.

Though he had been determined to demand a conversation, all his resolve had crumbled the moment he’d opened his door to find her standing on the other side.

He had given in to her so easily, and now her legs were wrapped around his waist, her nails sunk into the tanned flesh of his shoulder blades, and his cock was buried deep inside her.

His name fell from her lips as she shuddered beneath him, and he slammed into her one last time, sending streams of milky hot liquid erupting into her.

He nuzzled into the side of her neck as he caught his breath, unwilling to move off her just yet.

He wasn’t ready for this to be over.

He breathed in the scent of lilac and lavender mingled with sweat and sex. His tongue and lips trailed down her supple skin, the taste salty and sweet.

She made approving noises at first, but then she pushed at him to get him to roll off her. “It’s hot and you’re sweaty.”

“So are you.” He countered, but he complied by dropping his body onto the mattress next to her.

“Yes, I know. I need to borrow your shower.”

The unspoken part hung in the air between them. She couldn’t go back to her husband reeking of sex.

They lay side by side for several long minutes; him searching her face for something he couldn’t quite find.

Part of him was afraid of scaring her away, but a bigger part needed to know what was going on. He couldn’t face the prospect of her leaving and him not knowing if or when he’d see her again. “Listen, Riley. We need to talk.”

“About?”

“What we’re doing here.”

“I thought that was obvious.”

“Haha. Seriously. Listen. I know I have a reputation, Riley, but—”

She cut him off with an incredulous laugh. “You say that like it’s not a well-deserved reputation. You’ve been with a lot of women!”

He blew out a breath of frustration. “I have been with a lot of women, but—”

“It’s okay, Drake. You’re safe.” She sat up and swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “I know you don’t do relationships, and I’m not asking you for one. I get it.”

“No, you don’t!” He shot upright, grabbed her arm, and pulled her back. “I want a relationship, Riley!”

She gave him a puzzled look as she shifted her body into the same cross-legged sitting position he had settled into. “No, you don’t. In the entire time I’ve known you, you’ve never dated the same woman for more than a few weeks. And it’s not for lack of opportunity. They throw themselves at you. I’ve seen it.”

His eyes searched her face for any trace of jealousy. “Does that bother you?”

Her brows furrowed momentarily. “What?”

“The women, Riley!” He exploded. “Do you care, even a little, when you see me with someone else?”

He read nothing but confusion in her eyes as she shook her head, “Why would you think—”

“Because it fucking kills me every time I see you with Liam, that’s why! I thought it was just me, all one-sided, but then you… this happened…” he gestured between them.

“What are you saying, Drake?”

“I’m saying that I want a fucking relationship, Riley, but the woman I want it with married my best friend!”

“I…I didn’t know…” she looked stricken.

His voice went quiet as he asked, “Is that why you didn’t give me the courtesy of a heads-up before you got engaged?”

Her eyes filled with tears. “Oh my god, Drake! I had no idea that you ever had feelings like that for anyone, much less for me!”

“Yeah, well, I am in ample possession of plenty of feelings… I just don’t see the point of sharing them with most people.”

“I don’t know what to say. I never knew you felt that way.”

“Why did you think that night happened?”

“Um…. Because you’re Drake Walker and you sleep with anyone and everyone?”

“I do not!”

She arched her eyebrows.

“Okay, I have been around the block a time or two, but do you really think I would have slept with someone Liam was interested in if I didn’t have genuine feelings for them?”

She twirled a loose strand of hair around a fingertip as she considered that. “I mean…we had been drinking, so I chalked it up to that.”

“Would it have made a difference if I’d told you how I felt?”

“Back then? No.” She had been too in love with Liam to give serious consideration to anyone else.

“And now?”

“Drake…I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lead you on or anything. I assumed this was just fun and games for you. You know I love Liam. I married him!”

His eyes squeezed shut, pain swirling through him. His voice was clipped as he bit out, “Then why are you here?”

Her gaze drank him in as she considered whether or not to confide in him. One look into his misery-filled eyes convinced her that he was never going to use anything she told him against her.

She could trust him.

Her eyes were trained on her fingers as they twisted the edge of the sheet. Drawing a shaky breath, she admitted, “I can’t remember the last time Liam touched me.”

Drake went still as a soft, “Ah.” slipped from his lips.

She looked up, stunned at the tone she detected in his voice. “You’re not surprised.”

He sighed, unwilling to divulge Liam’s secrets no matter how in love he was with Riley. He hadn’t known they weren’t sleeping together, but in light of the information, he did know exactly why.

Seeing a possible way out without lying, he opted for a truth that wasn’t the whole truth. “I didn’t realize that you two weren’t…. I mean…” a crimson flush crawled up his neck and spread across his face as he stumbled over his words.

For the first time since they started this serious conversation, Riley laughed. It was a short, ironic laugh. She reached for his hand. “Geeze, Drake, after what we just did, are you really afraid to use words like sleeping together? Having sex?” She leaned closer with a hint of provocation lacing her voice. “Fucking?”

The flush went a shade deeper. “Riley!”

Her eyes traced across his face in pleased astonishment. Drake Walker, a known lothario, had somehow regressed into a skittish schoolboy because of her.

She couldn’t repress the smile or the soft laugh that burst out of her at the realization. Her fingers flew to her lips to try to cover it, but he noticed.

“Fuck!” He dropped his face into his hands to hide it from her. “I’m sorry for acting like an idiot.”

“No,” she reached out and gently pried his hands away from his face. “I like this new side of you.”

“Really?” He lifted his head and gazed at her with such tender hope and tortured longing that her heart stuttered in her chest, and butterflies exploded through her.

Well, shit.

That hadn’t been part of the plan.

[varilien]

(character uses they/it) i keep wanting to start posting my ocs over here again and then Just Not Doing It so uhhhh !!! some stuff from february, had a dream about knives that made me think of a plant oc with a constant power output so extreme that it generates a deadly radiation field around them. because of that they've been living alone this whole time, avoiding contact with other living things, and over the years they've learned how to suppress that output for short spans of time or "safely" pour out the excess in order to be safe to be around, though they ultimately prefer their solitude due to a history of bad experiences with humans. they're very blunt, spiteful, and curious

@whatever-you-can-give-me suggested lr would make good friends for them since they are 🤝 about being extremely hard to hurt lol

also! wrote like 2k about they and razlo's first meeting below the cut if anyone's interested in some good ol violence + gore :3

that was a fr content warning btw read at ur own discretion:

Chance encounters with violent strangers out in the open desert are nothing new to LR, even when Livio purposefully had tried to find the quietest possible route to travel.  It’s not even necessarily surprising to run into someone a little to the left of human, someone a bit bigger or stronger or more durable than they really have any right to be.  The Eye aren’t the only ones designing freaks on this planet, that much is obvious, evidenced sufficiently by the odder fights LR have ever gotten in.  

And this one is shaping up to be one of their oddest fights yet.

Livio hadn’t seen the fucker coming, occupied as he was with the slow realization of why this stretch of road doesn’t see much use anymore: a creeping heat across his nerve endings unrelated to the overcast, evening suns, the taste of metal in his mouth, and a deep-rooted nausea twisting up his guts.  Radiation sickness.  He’s dealt with it before, and as unpleasant as it is, it’s hardly enough to slow him down too bad.  

It’s damn distracting, though.  A good enough excuse for not noticing them hiding up along the rockface above his head.  Not a good enough excuse to keep Razlo from tagging in, especially after something’s pierced straight through the back of his neck, nearly taking his head clean off.  

Razlo rolls for cover with a strangled sound, blood gushing from his forced-out throat and foaming at his lips.  Even with his senses jarred and his vision blurred, it'd take more than a near-decapitation for his instincts to be overridden.  He's slinging out a Punisher before he even knows what he's up against.  

There's a blur of motion to his right as soon as his sights are raised.  They're probably surprised Razlo's still standing, but so was everyone else who's gotten a lucky shot at him.

He can track their motion by sound alone.  They're sloppy.  Feet hitting the cracked earth in hard thumps, every one a warning that Razlo can aim a spray of bullets at.  And by now Razlo's healed enough to notice and wonder why the hell his head is still so fucked up.

At least now he can mostly see them when he turns, hanging back a ways, out of Razlo's reach.  Shorter than him by a head and a half, covered toe to tip in layers of sun-bleached rags, save for their face.  That's hidden behind a tall, curved mask, shaped in a way that looks an awful lot like a tomas' crest, with the false eye markings to match.  Even the glass for the lenses is opaque.  The only part of them that’s exposed is their left hand, extended delicately aside to keep Razlo’s blood dripping off it from getting on their clothes.

Razlo physically tries to shake out the buzzing in his skull that only gets worse by the second, only to notice the foul smell of burning meat and risk an instinctive glance down at his arm, where his flesh has started to bubble and steam seemingly on its own.  He looks between his arm and his opponent, the way their body tenses and head begins to tip, shaking hard, simultaneous with his skin boiling that much more fiercely.  

Something clicks in his brain.  There’s no way.

And no time to find out.  This time when they dart in he’s expecting it; he takes a swing at their head, and they dodge right into his follow-through, slamming his Punisher into their skull with a crunch and a wet sound from their throat.  They drop, like he’d expect them to, like anyone would.  And like no one does, they just roll out of the way and onto their back, braced to spring back up again.  Razlo puts his boot through their ribcage before they get the chance to.  That should be the end of it, too, but the fucker just keeps kicking, trying to get away, the only sound they make being the gurgle of their lungs filling with blood, and they keep kicking.

At this point Razlo doesn’t even have a plan anymore.  Needless to say, he doesn’t go up against an awful lot of guys who match him in the department of being a pain in the ass to take down.  Razlo's just starting to come up with a new idea when those long arms swing up, claws digging into and making ribbons of his right leg.

Razlo curses and tries to pull away, which only makes them hold on even tighter.  He's staring that four-eyed glare down when that burning feeling across his whole body raises in pitch again, and it's the sight of his flesh starting to disintegrate around their fingers that finally makes him back off.

Razlo rather gracelessly falls on his ass in trying to take a step back, not expecting his right leg to simply break off halfway down his thigh.  He scrambles back a ways, ready to keep going, missing limb or no, but— they aren't following him.  They're collapsed in the sand, limbs akimbo as they fight to draw a full breath.  Razlo watches with morbid curiosity as his severed leg dissolves into nothing more than an off-colored patch of sand beside them.

All that angry tension has gone out of their body, leaving them limp and motionless except for the stutter of their chest, and Razlo can hear the damp gasps muffled behind their mask.  By all rights, it should look like more of a struggle.  They should be dead, really, but from where Razlo is sitting, it looks a lot more like they’re just taking a rest.  He feels more sure of that when they roll their shoulders back a bit, arms braced in the dirt as they delicately arch their spine.  There’s some sharp popping sounds, and a little exhale from them; setting their ribs, Razlo figures.  He’s had to do the same thing before.  Once they can move their arms more effectively, they start to gather themself up into a seated position, bones and joints still crackling like popcorn here and there as they go, til they’re all the way up, with their hands resting in their lap, looking far too fucking comfortable for the fight they’d just had.

"You're not dead."

Their voice startles Razlo despite being as soft as it is, and his gaze flicks up to that mask, just slightly tilted to the side, orange lenses glinting in the harsh sunlight.  They don't move at all that Razlo can see.  Even their breathing has evened out enough to have become imperceptible under their heavy shroud; if they're in any pain still, Razlo sure can't tell.

"Nope," is all he says, or can manage to say.

He scrubs at his eyes with the back of his hand, blinking hard a couple times to scrunch up his face in the hopes his nerves might start feeling right again soon.

Another wave of nausea hits him, but his stomach was empty before the fight even started, so he leans forward to put his head between his knees and dry heave for a while.

The whole time, he's aware of his little opponent continuing to sit in silence, watching and eerily unmoving, even when Razlo manages to sit up again and wipe his mouth with his wrist.

"The fuck's yer deal, anyways?"  Razlo asks.

"'Deal'...?"  They echo.

"Couldn't exactly kill you, either."

He wasn't expecting them to spill their life story or something, but he was thinking he'd get something more of a response than their head tilting back the opposite way.  There's not a lot to work with here in trying to get a read on them, but Razlo feels it's safe to hazard they're probably just pretty damn confused, the same as him.

"You kinda smell like a Plant.  M'not an expert, but I've met two others."

Now that gets something out of them.  A tiny wiggle of their head that makes the pieces in their mask rattle.

"I wouldn't know.  I've only met me."

“Huh.”  

Whether it’s a confirmation or rebuttal hardly matters at this point.  He’s feeling sure enough that his assumption was correct, now, anyways.

"You, uh…"  Razlo has to pause for breath.  Unlike the thing across from him, he's having a hell of a time getting his back.  "You're the one making this radiation field?"

"Yes."

"Any way you could turn it down?"

They say nothing, though Razlo feels suddenly that he's being studied very intently.  And shortly after, slowly, slowly the fire in his cells begins to go out, and he can spit the worst of the sourness off his tongue.  Eventually he can't feel any radiation left at all, though his body's had a rough enough time from the dose he got, he'll be getting the sickness out of his system for a while yet.

Regardless, Razlo’s fingers twitch against the triggers when he hears that mask rattle again, and his eyes are on it in an instant.

"You didn't answer my first question," Razlo reminds, cautiously.

More silence, for a while.

"You wanted to hurt me."

There's no malice in the statement, at least that Razlo can tell.  Just the simple facts.  Still, he narrows his eyes.

"You started it.  Figured it was mutual."

"That's true."

Razlo grins.

"So, what now?  Regrow my leg, and get back to not killing each other?"

"If you'd like to."

That gets a laugh out of him.

"Nah, I think I’ll pass, if it’s all the same to you.”

“It is.”

That much is obvious.  They stay put, seeming transfixed on watching Razlo’s leg grow back, only a little more slowly than any of his other injuries, now that he doesn’t have the radiation to slow him down.  It leaves him feeling itchy and achy all over, and he’s got a bad hunch that right ankle doesn’t have the best chances of coming back right.  Once there’s enough of it to fuss about, he gets his foot in his hands and starts experimentally rolling it on its hinge, checking that the range of motion is right.

And still, those orange lenses glint at him curiously.  They don’t flinch or look away when Razlo considers them in return; he guesses they don’t know it’s not polite to stare.

“What's yer name?"  Razlo asks.

"My name?"

"Don't tell me you ain't got one."

The silence that follows is pretty self-explanatory.

“I’m Razlo.”

He can just make out the sound of them mumbling his name under their breath, like they’re not sure how it’s going to come out.  Almost warmly, almost shyly, they manage to say: “hello, Razlo.”

[slashhinginghasher]

No Such Thing As A Free Ride

Ghost x Soap Hitcher AU

Part 1 Part 2

tw: light blood/gore

Oh, he needs this fucker out of his car. He needed him out at least 20 miles ago. Johnny's hands are clammy on the wheel, cold sweat pricking along his hairline. Ghost's eyes are boring into him, measuring his reaction. It doesn't feel like the anticipation of a person who's just told a really shitty joke and is waiting for you to groan or laugh or get angry. It feels like a cat waiting for the mouse to twitch so it can pounce.

Ghost never did put his seatbelt on after getting in the car.

Johnny's got a knife in his pocket, a stupid little thing with a star-spangled handle and a decal of an eagle wearing a cowboy hat, which he picked up at a roadside shop because it was so hilariously ugly. He's not even sure it'll make it past airport security when he goes home. But right now, it feels like providence.

The road is dark, no headlights or taillights when he glances at the mirrors. No oncoming traffic to run into if the car spins out. He nudges the accelerator, urging the car just a little faster. He'll have to be fast and, more importantly, lucky, because he'll only get one shot.

"What do you call a guy missing a part of his skull?" Ghost asks, flicking the butt of his cigarette out the window.

"I dunno," Johnny says, surreptitiously bracing himself. He's proud of how steady his voice is. "What?"

"Open minded."

Speaking of shitty jokes.

Jesus fuckin' Christ.

Johnny slams on the brakes.

The wheels shudder and Ghost bounces off the dashboard, head and hands. The seatbelt cuts into Johnny's chest and shoulder harder than he expected, but he can't cater to the shock of pain just yet. He whips the knife out and grabs a fistful of damp jacket with the other hand, holds the blade to Ghost's throat.

God, he hopes this cheap piece of shit is actually sharp enough to cut.

"What the fuck-" Ghost groans, voice muffled by the hand over his face, but Johnny cuts him off by the pressing the metal edge a little harder against the exposed skin of the other man's neck.

"Ride's over, pal," he snarls. "Get the fuck out." He grits his teeth and scowls, trying to look intimidating instead of pants-shittingly terrified. Ghost looks at him from the corner of his eyes.

"What're you doing?" He sounds a little nasal now. Johnny hopes he's busted the fucker's nose. His pulse, though, is infuriatingly slow and steady under Johnny's hand.

"The fuck does it look like I'm doin'? I'm sendin' you on your merry fuckin' way."

Should he shake him a little? It seems like it might be the correct thing to do, but Johnny is terrified of losing his grip.

It's so quiet. Drip of the rain and the tick-tick-tick of the cooling engine. The sound of Johnny trying to wrangle his breaths into silence. He swears he can hear Ghost blink.

"You ever stab anyone before, Johnny?"

No, no he fucking hasn't. He's never used a knife in self defense before, just for dumb tricks to impress people at parties. Ghost's skin is burning hot against Johnny's knuckles. He has no idea if he's close to drawing blood.

"It's awfully messy," Ghost continues. "Be such a shame to have clean all that up, 'specially since it's not your car."

There's a purr in Ghost's voice that's almost sexual, and it kind of makes Johnny want to die. Something warm trickles over his fingers, and he realizes in a sick rush that he's broken the skin.

"I'll say this one more time," he grits out, drawing on every cold-blooded action hero he's ever seen to keep his composure. "Open the door. And get. Out."

For an awful moment, he thinks Ghost isn't going to listen, and he's not sure if he's actually prepared to use real violence against the bigger man. It's a relief when he slowly pops open the door and, with an unwavering gaze, slides even more slowly out of the passenger seat.

Johnny thinks he's in the clear, but then Ghost's hand lashes out. He grabs Johnny by the wrist (his fingers almost touch, they almost fucking touch) and he licks his goddamn blood off of Johnny's fingers.

Johnny recoils so hard he hits the driver side door, and floors it. His arm bends painfully before Ghost stumbles and relinquishes his grip and he's able to pull it inside, dragging the door shut with it. Miraculously, he doesn't drop the knife, but he does almost cut himself with it several times as he wipes his hand off on the seat so fervently he gives himself rugburn. The other hand is gripping the wheel so tightly it hurts, barely keeping the car from careening off the road.

Ghost's silhouette fades, swallowed by distance and rain.

***

He almost cries with relief when he sees the sign for the rest stop. He's been driving for hours, checking the rearview mirror every five minutes just in case Ghost somehow materializes in the backseat, and figures he's put enough distance between them that the hitcher won't catch up to him on foot, even if he sprints. There's no one else in the lot, which is unsurprising but does make him feel conspicuous. He parks under a tree, the thick trunk providing an extra barrier between him and the road.

He swears he can still feel Ghost's spit on his skin, even though he's rubbed his hand almost raw.

The thought of falling asleep and leaving himself vulnerable makes him sick with fear, but the adrenaline crash is hitting him hard. He triple-checks the locks on all the doors and reclines the driver's seat as far back as it will go.

Eventually, he dozes off, clutching the glorious, idiotic cowboy knife to his chest.

***

The terror of the previous night is starting to feel like a fever dream in the bright morning sunlight. Johnny wakes with a crick in his neck, a bruise on his collarbone, and a sore elbow, but the parking lot is still empty and so is the road, which he can see for miles in either direction under a clear blue sky.

The bathrooms are locked, so he takes a piss in the bushes before inspecting the big map posted on the wall behind a sheet of scratched plexiglass. There's a truck stop about 45 miles away with a gas station and a diner. Johnny's stomach growls at the thought of a big, greasy American breakfast, and the knot in his chest loosens further at the thought of seeing some regular, sane people.

Stretching his back with a loud groan, he saunters back to the car. Honestly, he's starting to second guess himself a little. Nobody would straight up admit to murder to a stranger, right? That would astronomically stupid. Ghost (clearly a fake name) was probably one of those weird cunts who read autopsy reports for fun and got off on making people scared. Johnny doesn't regret kicking him out of the car though, even if the knife was overkill. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes, or whatever; don't act like a demented freak around the bloke giving you a ride if you don't want to be dumped on the side of the road.

The passenger seat is barely damp when he touches it. By the time he reaches the truck stop, it'll be like last night never even happened. He spots the cigarette lighter still rolling about in the cup holder and tosses it back into the center console. Out of sight, out of mind.

His fingers brush something sticky.

Johnny's heart leaps into his throat and his stomach plummets down somewhere below his arse. Shaking, trepidatious, he plucks the object out from the console and immediately throws it as far as possible with a startled cry of disgust. It bounces a couple times before rolling to a stop some 15 meters away on the pavement.

His stomach clenches and his throat convulses as he dry heaves, trying to choke back another scream. He rubs his hand frantically through the condensation gathered on the hood of the car to get the tackiness off his fingers because if he wipes it on his leg then it'll be on his pants-

A crow flies down from the tree, eying Johnny suspiciously before pecking at the object. It gives a few exploratory nips to the pink, stringy bit before moving on to the fleshy white sphere. With a triumphant caw, it picks the whole thing up and tosses its head back.

Johnny doubles over and vomits as the bird gulps down the bloody human eye Ghost left in his car.

[kissproof]

Could you possibly do something with both mr.orange (readers boyfriend) who finally goes out and meets the rest of the dogs after giving Mr.orange a lovely hickey to show off. The dogs obviously give him a hard time about it but Mr.white just admires her handiwork and comments something like "that must have felt good" or "that must make him crazy worked up if you were able to get it that dark" until the reader offers to give Mr.white one as well. Which ends up possibly as a threesome.

thank you for your request loveeeee <3

SUMMARY: a hickey is worth a thousand words

WARNINGS: mature themes!

to say it was bad was an understatement. the goddamn thing was like europe threw up on the side of orange’s neck. you’d given it to him the night before in the back of a bar where the two of you giggled and got handsy like teenagers. it had only further developed since the darkness fell over it and left orange looking undeniably wringed out.

after hours of useless fretting over it, he wore the hickey proudly. he told himself that it was just another piece of you; a deliciously painful memory of your lips that he could carry throughout his day. plus, you were gonna meet the other dogs today. with you on his arm, it was like another trophy attached to its olympian.

as you strolled up to pat lorraine's, eddie and vic were already outside, stalking like gravekeepers with their smoking cigarettes. they eyed you both through sunglasses of varying tints, eddie making sure his pretty eyes got protected from the excessive californian UV.

“ain’t she somethin’?” eddie whistled within ear shot, marveling at the paint job of fred’s car as he curled it round the parking lot and stopped it at their feet. it was funny eddie said anything at all. he could’ve bought twelve of fred’s car plus the one he sat in now.

“well, she ain’t yours, pal,” freddie retorts with a smirk, yanking the gear in place with his head out the window.

“wasn’t talking about your girl.” vic squints, unwavering in his cloud of smoke. “but…now that you mention it…” he drops his sunglasses further down his nose and winks at you through the windshield.

with an eye roll, fred gets out of the car and your eyes follow his hurried footsteps along the asphalt, biting your lip as you wait. you hear your door jack open and shut, a rush of hot air hitting your arm.

“thank you, baby,” you hum with a smile.

“holy shit!” eddie cries, beside himself. “what the fuck is that?”

your attention is brought quickly from your body to the ever-so-obvious mark on freddie’s neck now that you were both gleaming in the sunlight.

“oh… i-" you stammer.

“i haven’t seen one that big since you got out of jail, vic!”

“fuck you, cabot.”

“what the fuck is taking you dicks so long— jesus, orange, your neck." a new voice emerges from the left of you followed by a pair of goofy long legs.

“i know," freddie grumbles, turning his body away and pinching his nose bridge.

“sorry. i’m pink--mr pink. nice to meet you.”

“nice to meet you,” you say politely, forming your hand to his as he extends to greet you. you note that all of them smell of the same smoke.

“you do that?” pink asks, in awe, and you can only blush.

“let’s go,” freddie sighs and walks you inside, a hand on your back as you make it through the doors and spot two more men sitting down at a large table.

“hey! there they are! hello, beautiful.” the older man, who you know to be white, stands up with his arms outstretched and kisses your cheek as they all file in and sit down in their respective seats, leaving one open for you next to orange.

“hello-“

“what the fuck happened to you?” brown recoils, interrupting. his arm leaned on the back of his seat, yet another cigarette parked between his big fingers.

“what does it look like?” freddie cocks his hip, totally flustered.

“sweet thing gave our boy a real juicy kiss!” eddie laughs.

“it’s bigger than my hand!”

fred finally sits down next to you as white does the same, sandwiching you between them. “mustve taken a while…" he trails, eyeing your lips and imagining fred's neck. "t'get it that dark”

you eye white, curiously. “what? you want one, white?” brown smirks. a few scrapes of silverware is heard over the sudden silence of the table.

“just sayin… it’s a beautiful job.”

orange reaches his arm around your chair and hugs close to you. “well, you can all get a good look ‘cuz im done talking about it.”

“awwwwwww!”

“lover boy's embarrassed!”

you look back at freddie, then back to the guys. you shrug. “i’ll give you one too if you like it so much.”

“oh, yeah?” white adjusts himself in his seat and smiles, his face turning red.

freddie furrows his brow before poking his head in to get closer to white.

“in your dreams, white. she’s kidding.”

“i'm not!" you whine.

“baby-“

“it’s just a little kiss…”

you can't help but feel all the dogs' eyes watching you and orange as you look at each other, negotiating with the micromovements in your eyes. they'd never guessed orange would date someone who'd be so charitable!

eventually, freddie sighs, scooting himself back to face the other side of the diner, “…fine.”

you can imagine what happens next.

[morningstargirl666]

hi, how's it going? love tbbw and all your other works! any wips in progress?

im fairly new to the fandom and was looking for a few good kc authors...any recs for fics and/or authors?

Hi! Thanks so much for enjoying tbbw! I'm not really working on anything else other that tbbw right now, but I do have a ghost!caroline au somewhere in my pile of drafts, as well as the next chapter for Divided We Fall and Songs of the Sea --- not that they're anywhere near finished 😂.

But if you meant what I'm working on for tbbw currently, I'm up to the old chapter 30, which is now split between chapter 41 and 42 in the rewrite (yes, it became two chapters --- not at all SHOCKING). I'll share something I worked on just last night under the cut.

As for kc authors.... so many good ones! @cupcakemolotov / cupcakemolotov and @lalainajanes / LalainaJ and @lynyrdwrites have hundreds (and I mean that literally) of kc fics under their belts, spanning dozens of aus. @bellemorte180 / BelleMorte180 also has done a ton of aus with many of them multichaps --- my favourite of hers is a one-shot called The Howling. @helpless-in-sleep / perfectpro has written an absolutely transcendant fic that deals with Caroline's trauma with Damon and I'm told her Adams Family AU is a kicker too. @little-miss-sunny-daisy / sunnydaisy has written a mix of brilliant aus and canon divergence fics, much like perfectpro. If you're into canon divergence and multichaps, @stars-and-darkness / for_darkness_shows_the_stars is your gal. @ks-caster / KS-Caster is much the same. It's not personally my thing, but if you liked the baby plot, @galvanizedfriend / Yokan has got you covered with The Wolf. @kirythestitchwitch / KiryTheStitchWitch is currently organising @klarolinewinterexchange which will release some new fics into the wild soon, and her own fics are legendary too.

If you want to check out some relatively new authors (that I've met recently anyway) there's @accidental-rambler , @artemisravencourtney , @impossiblekryptonitecolor , @averseunhinged and probably many more I'm forgetting. And because I can't leave my fellow kc artists unmentioned, @certifiedceraunophile @the-road-betwixt @stardust414 @push1na @highgaarden have all done some Queen Shit in this fandom and need to recieve more love, so go check them out.

As promised, here's a little sneak peak for tbbw --- Sam is NOT having a good time hehehehehe

Turns out, getting shot in the head was just as pleasant as it sounds.

The pain was unlike anything else when he woke; like a hot poker had just been shoved right through his skull, searing through the tissue behind his eyes. But before that, before he became aware of the pain, woke to the world around him — there was the in-between. 

A vampire’s soul didn’t cross to the Other Side when they were ‘killed’, even though their bodies imitated the process of dying. They were clinically dead to the rest of the world when their necks snapped, or when a wooden bullet was put between their eyes. And even as the magic that kept Sam from true death began healing his body, the cells in his brain had already started dying, releasing one desperate flood of DMT before the lights went out, dreaming bigger than he’d ever dreamed before. Some see their life flash before their eyes; memories skittering across your brain, full of loved ones and friends, mixing with a firework display of imagination to create one last delirium-induced fever dream. 

Sam, well.

Sam saw Riley.

She’d been little, when they were taken. Barely just older than four. He remembered she had their mom’s eyes; their mom’s laugh. During those dark days, deep underground, where no one could hear them scream—

He’d have given anything to make her laugh. He managed to, once or twice; coerced a smile from that small, innocent face.

That face, in all its deathly stillness, was the last thing he had seen before Lycaon’s venom had torn its way through his body, setting his blood on fire. Lycaon had been too late to save her, nearly too late to save him. 

The bite was always a gamble; a simple toss of a coin. Life? Or death?

That day, Sam had lived.

But his sister had died.

And all those memories; that kaleidoscope of horrors that warped and twisted behind his eyelids rushed to the surface, lingering like a wraith as he woke, hissing in his ears. His expression twisted with pain as the agony inside his head split his skull open, and for minute, he thought it was the witches, twisting their magic into his blood vessels with cruel fingers and making them explode—

“He’s awake! He’s awake!” a voice shouted to others, out of place in such memories. 

The vervain hit Sam next. Suddenly he found himself coughing, rolling over as harsh breaths shook his entire body, struggling to breathe through the poison in the air.

“Ask if Klaus is alive–” another voice was saying, further away and distinctly male.

“Hybrid!” someone else yelled over them. “You lying, traitorous excuse of a lap dog. Where’s my brother? Is he alive? Answer me!”

Sam’s eyes shot open. His fingers scrambled over his forehead, digging into the wound in the middle of it, wincing at the pain and wheezing in every breath of vervain-infused air, pulling out something close to the surface. It dropped to the floor amongst the hay and dirt, a sharp, pointed thing; a wooden bullet.

The fuck?

“Sam, thank god,” someone near him said; the one who had spoken first. He looked up, meeting concerned, kind eyes. Her face blurred, Sam’s eyes tearing up from the sting of vervain. Her voice sounded urgent, trying to reach him through the wooden, barred walls. “Are you okay? Sam, can you hear me?” 

Wait… barred?

He stared at her fingers, wrapped around an iron bar to the right. Like a cage.

Sam looked up, eyes moving around the pen he was caged in, gaze roaming the walls; from the barred window slightly higher up and the locked cell door, to the vervain misting in the air, blowing out of the fans in the corner of the room. When he spoke, it was just one word, but the sheer desperation in his voice, the fear, like he was pleading for a lie, struck a horror in him so deep, everyone heard it.

“No.”

It was bigger than the ones the witches kept him, the walls haphazardly reinforced together, rather than meticulously organised — premeditated — but the feeling was the same. He could feel the walls closing in, the dread — the knowing — that there was no escape suffocating him more successfully than the vervain. Helpless. Forgotten. Left to rot in the dark and the cold.

And this time — alone.

“Sammy? I’m scared.”

He choked, but not from the vervain. He rolled onto his back, scrambling away from the cell door in front of him like it was a terrifying beast and not a simple meld of iron and hinges.

“It’s alright, Ry. Someone will come, you’ll see.”

“You promise?”

“I promise.” A pause; followed by movement in the dark. “Pinky swear?”

A quiet, sniffled giggle. “Pinky swear.”

Sam stared at the cell door in horror, beginning to shake his head back and forth, repeating that same word over and over.

“No, no, no, no, no, no-”

His hand came up to clutch his hair, pulling so harshly at the strands it hurt, just as his back hit the wall behind, nowhere left to run.

“Sam! Sam!” Caroline yelled, trying to get his attention. “What’s the matter?”

Sam couldn’t hear her.

“Dad says you lost your younger brother,” he’d asked Klaus once, when the man had still hated him, sneering whenever he came close.

“I don’t talk about it.”

“That’s alright,” Sam had said back, looking out across the woods, leant on the cabin’s balcony. “I don’t talk about it either.”

Klaus hadn’t said a word, but he’d looked at him. And then his face had softened. In the silence that followed, for the first time, they found some common ground.

[alj4890]

I got this from this incorrect quote generator. I need you to do something with this! lol

😂 I'm still dying with all those you shared. I'm adding that other you sent me with this one

I'm setting this at the time these two were keeping their relationship a secret from everyone except his two closest friends. And I have no idea how this ended up the way it did. Nothing at all like I had planned 😂

Masterlist

Admittance

(Tobias Carrick x F!MC) in a Choices Open Heart One Shot

It felt like a never ending work week. Chris couldn't remember the last time she slept for longer than a couple of hours at a stretch. With the mad rush of flu patients coming in and out of the E.R., she'd begun to daydream of spending her entire time off in her bedroom, curtains closed, and having the best sleep of her life.

She collapsed upon her soft bed after a particularly grueling shift, only moving when she heard the ringtone she'd chosen for her favorite doctor.

"Lo?" She managed to get out.

"I don't even rate a full hello?" Tobias teased.

"You're lucky to get that." She mumbled. "I think I barely acknowledged Jackie when I walked past her earlier."

She didn't have the energy to muffle her yawn.

"I don't think I've ever been this tired."

"I take it our date tonight is off?" He asked, already disappointed at the fact he wouldn't get to see her.

Chris sat up with a groan. "It can't already be Thursday!"

"It is.

"Damnit." She slumped back against her headboard. "I was looking forward to tonight."

"I was too." Tobias sighed. "Want me to sneak over and at least bring you dinner?"

Chris perked up at that offer. "You don't have to sneak. Aurora is already in bed and the others are working the night shift."

"Then I'll see you soon." He promised.

Chris looked down at her tank top and pajama bottoms. The thought of taking them off seemed too horrible to contemplate.

"Do you mind if I don't dress up? I just got out of the shower and put on some pajamas. I think it might kill me to change clothes."

"You know I don't care." He reminded her.

Her smile grew bigger when she heard the flirty lilt to his deep voice.

"You know, I don't think I've ever seen you in pajamas before. I think it's about time I got a peek at your bedroom too."

"I suppose it is only fair." Chris teased. "After all, you are a very gracious host whenever I want to see your bedroom."

"I aim to please." He responded. "And you know if you feel the need to relax without those pj's, I certainly won't complain."

She burst out laughing. "Nice try, Dr. Carrick. Right now, you'll be lucky if I have enough energy to answer the door when you knock."

"Take a nap." Tobias ordered. "I'll call when I'm at the door."

***************

A little over an hour later, Chris roused herself from her bed and padded down the hallway.

"Hey." Tobias whispered, once she opened the door.

She smiled sleepily into his kiss and leaned a little more against him when he wrapped his arms around her.

"You know, you could have told me to wait until tomorrow to see you." He reminded her.

"But I didn't want to wait." She snuggled within his arms. "This is what kept me going this week."

Her eyes flew open when he picked her up bridal style.

"Tobias!" She hissed. "Put me down!"

"Shut the door." He whispered, cuddling her close.

Dropping her head back with a groan, she quietly shut the door.

"Now?" He pressed his lips to her neck. "Where's your room?"

"Last door on the left." She bit back a moan when he kissed a path up to her ear.

She looped her arms around his neck as he carried her down the hall.

Once inside, he set her down on her bed, pressed another deep kiss to her lips, then shut her bedroom door.

"Now." He held up a bag of Chinese takeout. "Let's eat."

Chris smoothed her blankets and retrieved a towel to set the food on.

"Not bad." Tobias looked around her room. "Now I know the setting to put you in when I fantasize about you."

"You still fantasize about me?" She couldn't stop smiling over that tidbit.

He took his shoes and jacket off before sliding under the covers with her.

His eyes raked over her, taking in how her tank top hugged her curves.

"You bet I do."

"Hi." He winked at her.

"Hi." She kissed him.

Tobias wrapped one of her curls around his fingers, pulling her closer for a longer kiss.

"We don't have to eat, if you'd rather properly christen my first time here in your bedroom."

Chris playfully pushed him then reached for one of the takeout containers.

"If I'm going to do anything remotely sexy, I need food."

"Heaven help me if you get any sexier."

"Oof. You're not giving me much of a chance to resist you."

"I never do." He reached for one of the boxes of Kung Pao chicken. "I hate to admit it, but I've always been irresistible."

Chris hummed her agreement as she ate.

"When I was young," he continued, "I left a trail of broken hearts like a rockstar. I'm not proud of it."

Rolling her eyes, she reached for her drink.

"Chris?" Tobias eyed her. "Are you jealous?"

"You're kinda proud of it." She took a sip. "You work it into a lot of conversations."

Her tone caught him off guard.

"No." She grumbled. "What do I have to be jealous about?"

"Nothing." He scooted closer to her. "You know you don't have anything to be jealous of when it comes to my past."

"It isn't jealousy!" She snapped. "I could care less about all your women."

"Former women." He emphasized.

She rolled her eyes again with a huff.

"Honestly it isn't them or the number of," she made quotation marks with her fingers, "former women."

"Then why do you sound upset?" He persisted.

"For one thing, I'm exhausted." She folded her arms across her chest.

Tobias got up, and began to pace the small confines of her room. He knew by her waspish tone and that arm folding maneuver that she was precariously close to losing that temper of hers.

"Look," he began in an attempt to avoid a fight, "I would have understood if you wanted to cancel our date so that you could sleep. I think I'm pretty good at that boyfriend type behavior."

"Awwwww." Chris sarcastically responded. "Aren't you so bloody precious?"

Tobias glared at her.

"What's this really about?" He demanded.

"The fact that you always say, trail of broken hearts!" She griped. "As if, not only are you proud of it, but also that..."

She trailed off when tears began to fill her eyes at the thought of what he might really mean.

"But also what?" He prodded in a gentler tone when he noticed she was about to cry.

"But also like it's a warning," she bit down on her bottom lip, "to me."

She looked away when he sat down beside her once more.

"It's not a warning." He tried to pull her into his arms. "Especially not to you."

Chris refused to budge.

"Right." She bit out. "Because I'm so special."

"You are." He insisted. "To me you are."

He gave up when she turned away from him. He flopped back on her pillows and tried to think of a way to salvage their evening. Rubbing his hands over his face he released an aggravated groan.

"Did I or did I not admit to being in love with you?" He bit out.

"You did."

"Then there you go!" He threw his hands up as if that solved everything.

"What are you talking about?" Chris turned towards him.

"You are the only woman I've admitted that to. The only one I felt like saying that to. The only one I've ever fallen in love with." He explained. "So me joking about all my one night stands doesn't matter."

He rolled on his side to face her.

"Because you, Christy Valentine, won't be broken hearted. I'm the one who would be devastated if I manage to screw us up."

"There you go again!" She growled.

Before he had a chance to respond, her lips crashed down on his.

He moaned as she pushed him on his back and straddled him without breaking the kiss.

"Shame on you." She slowly shook her head. "Won't even let me eat before seducing me."

He didn't bother to hide his smug smile.

"I'm sorry." His hands drifted over her body. "Any chance I can make it up to you?"

"I don't know." She reached over and set the food containers on one of her nightstands then slid back down on top of him. "I suppose you could try."

His lips curved even more as he slipped her shirt off.

"I'll give it my all." He promised.

*****************

The next afternoon...

"About time you two showed up." Dean greeted. "I was about to call and see what the holdup was."

"And I was about to ignore all good manners and eat without you." Will hugged Chris.

"Sorry we're late. I was doing things." Tobias responded.

"Hi. I'm things." Chris hugged Dean next.

Dean and Will snickered as Tobias covered his face. He couldn't hold back his own laughter over Chris's boldness.

"Good to know you two weren't doing something boring and holding up lunch." Will teased.

"I can forgive and commend doing those types of things." Dean winked at Chris. "A simple text of I can't get out of bed, go on without me would have sufficed."

"Not that we're opposed to details." Will added.

"I'll try and remember that." Tobias reached for his glass of water.

His hand settled over the one Chris had set on his leg.

She smiled at him, squeezing his thigh gently.

Unable to resist how adorably unrepentant she looked for outing their activities to his friends, he leaned over and kissed her.

"I said, details." Will teased. "Not demonstrations."

Dean threw his napkin at them when the kiss continued.

"Enough!" He couldn't stop chuckling at the two entwined. "Remember there's those of us who are still painfully single sitting here."

The couple broke apart and shared a tender smile.

"I'm starving." Chris admitted while picking up her menu.

Will and Dean noticed Tobias looking awfully proud at that statement as he settled his arm along the back of her chair to pull her closer to his side.

Deciding to let that one go by without comment, the friends discussed what appetizers to share with the couple.

[havenesc]

✨🥕💥🛏️ for the ask game!!!

(writer goal ask list for new year)

THANK U FOR THE ASKS BIRDIE <3333

✨What's one area of your writing that you think needs the least amount of improvement?

Honestly I usually like how I write action or how I write tension! I write a lot of sports/combat sequences and I feel like they've always flowed fairly well.

Also pining. Lmao. I feel very confident in writing pining -- and that goes for more than romance! Just the emotion/sensation of "want!"

🥕 What's one area of your writing that you think needs the most amount of improvement?

OOGH I think general... prose?? Sometimes my writing "voice" fluctuates and I think I want to work on getting more consistency with how I write in general!

💥Is there a chapter, scene, or WIP you're most excited to write? Share a snippet or tell us about it!

I'm going to put both.... because there's no rules I do what I wANT.

like someone else I know, cmatdsdw has grabbed me by the neck and shook me around!! I'm very excited to write one-shots of various immortal jason struggles, bonus if it's from sofia's perspective.

“It’s a long story — alright, alright,” He grimaces as Sofia takes one step closer, personal space broached, and presses the gun to his head harder. “Look, if you’re asking for a complete Jason Todd Compendium, I don’t remember half of it. I was dead and then I wasn’t; I only — really, christ, Sofia, put the gun down. You’re giving me six different options to break your fucking arm right now.” Sofia doesn’t move, her finger a ghost on the trigger. “I don’t believe you.” “Believe me about the arm? Or believe me about—“ “Jason Todd has been dead for four years.” Sofia stares up at him, trying to reconcile the mass of a human in front of her with the boy she had met at a gala Selina had managed an invite to. He would have been thirteen at the time. Sofia remembers him; he had been small for his age. A byproduct of his earlier years, Selina would later tell her.  Jason had sidled right up next to her at the dessert table, helped himself to the baklava, and smiled around a too-big bite. “You’re Sofia Gigante,” The boy had said, matter-of-fact, but without the usual malice or wariness that accompanied any recognition of Sofia.  She remembers Bruce Wayne’s stare, heavy and piercing from all the way across the floor. The biggest don’t talk to him she had ever seen, a warning shot at her feet. She remembers looking back at the boy with a polite, sly smile. “So I am.”

and my jason rancher au!! i am working on a lot of different sections of this all at once, but it's really half and half: jason, who gets to find a life outside of vigilantism while he tries to figure out where to go from the situation he's been put in, and dick, still in gotham/bludhaven, trying to pick up the trail on the disappearance of jason todd.

“He murdered over two dozen men!” Bruce is trying to shout him down but Dick has always known how to handle men bigger than him, has always known how to handle Bruce—  “So what did you do?!” Dick roars back, as powerful as all the lions in Haly’s circus, bone-rattling as it echoes. Bruce’s pause is enough for Dick’s foot in the door. “What did you do to him that night? Why was his helmet accessible to some asshole on the street? Why are they saying you killed him?” Dick knows, in the game of logic and emotion, that there has been no filicide. He’s known since the day he read in the Gazette that Batman had sent Joker back to Arkham in a body cast instead of a body bag that very first time that no matter the pomp and circumstance, Bruce is incapable of killing. Jason has done so much worse. Jason could do so much worse, if he wanted to.  But so could Bruce, too.  Bruce is looking back at Dick like they’ve already come to blows, like he’s nursing grave wounds and trying to push through. Dick hates fighting with him — hates that it comes so easily, after all these years spent together, and even worse, Dick knows how to be efficient about it. He knows what words hurt, which ones force Bruce to look at his actions from a different angle, how to turn field necessities into the tragedies they really are.  “I didn’t see him,” Bruce says, hard-edged. He’s good at hiding. “Jason escaped before I reached the safehouse. He didn’t leave anything behind.”

🛏️ Is there a new trope you'd like to write this year?

AAAH man good question!!! I don't have a specific trope in mind, I have overarching plots I'm usually gnawing on in my brain. Probably finishing the 5+1 I started with Dick and Jason brotherisms!

[practically-an-x-man]

Pit of Vipers (Nikoletta x Abner)

Summary: While in Belle Reve, Nikoletta realizes that a fight broke out the night before - and Abner didn't even try to fight back

Tags: pre-relationship, angst, violence, depictions of injuries, brief references to suicide

Word Count: 3.1k

____

“Adrian.”

She appeared out of the shadows and slid onto the bench beside him, and Adrian just about jumped out of his skin. 

“Jesus Christ- don’t do that!” he blurted, glaring at her from behind his glasses, “Do you know how close I get to punching you in the face when you do that? It’s a reflex.”

“But you never have.” Nikoletta pointed out, giving him a slanted grin.

“Yeah, ‘cause I stop myself every time. Those aren’t exactly the knuckle tattoos I’d want,” Adrian said, wringing his hands together as he imagined it. Nikoletta scoffed. He talked a lot of big game, she thought, but she’d only ever seen him fight when it was premeditated. He didn’t strike a single blow without considering it first. It was part of why she chose him as a confidant. He wasn’t reckless like the others were. 

“So… what sends you popping up over my shoulder like my sleep paralysis demon this time?” he asked, seemingly recovered from his bout of shock, and shot her a broad grin. Someone else probably would have found it charming. Nikoletta just pressed her lips together. 

“Someone’s missing.” she said, dark eyes scanning the cafeteria around her, “One of the newbies.”

“Hm. Yeah. The skinny one, right? With the-” Adrian guessed, gesturing vaguely at his own neck, “The one who always looks like he’s sad he can’t hang himself from the bars of his cell like the guy in Goonies?”

“He doesn’t-” Nikoletta started, but cut herself off with a huff, “The guy from Goonies didn't actually hang himself. But… right. Him.”

“Oh, yeah, he’s in medical,” Adrian pressed on, his voice just as light and conversational as it had been in the moments before, “Couple’a guys jumped him late last night. Didn’t see who, but they got some good hits in before the guards got there. Looked pretty bad.”

“Bastards.” Nikoletta growled, “They know the rules. He wasn’t marked.”

“Maybe they thought nobody would care.” he guessed, casually picking through his French fries without a care in the world. Sometimes he scared her. “I mean, the guy doesn’t even talk, why’s he even worth protecting?”

“It’s not about being worth protecting,” she said, “Why do you pay your insurance premium if you never get sick?”

“Ah, I never had insurance. Even the cheap ones denied me. I get in too many fights.”

“But you know how insurance works, don’t you?”

“Sort of.” Adrian said with a one-sided shrug. Nikoletta rolled her eyes. 

“Good enough.” she decided, “What I’m saying is… whether he’s ‘worth it’ or not, everyone gets my protection, whether they need it or not, unless they decide to stir up trouble. And he hasn’t stirred up any trouble. They shouldn’t have gone after him.”

This was far from the first time something like this had happened. Even with her system in place, there was no way to control every stroke of violence in Belle Reve. People got… pent-up after a while. Marking the unruly prisoners kept things peaceful in more ways than one - removing some violence from the pool entirely, and giving the others a chance to release their frustrations - but it wasn’t a perfect solution. She doubted there was any perfect solution to be found. 

And it was always the quiet ones who seemed to slip through the cracks.

“I need to find out who did this,” Nikoletta said, standing up from her seat in one decisive motion. Adrian twisted around to look at her, giving her a strange look.

“Y’know, if it were up to me, I’d just mark him now. Just to get it over with. His blood’s already in the water. I’d be willing to bet someone’s gonna rip him apart eventually. Might be better just to let it happen, save yourself a bigger fight. I mean… you’ve seen him, Nikki, the guy’s a walking target.”

This was the side of him that Nikoletta had to keep on a very short leash. Underneath his lighthearted and even charming exterior was the same thirst for violence as anyone else in Belle Reve, and she knew that. And as much as she liked having Adrian as her right hand man, she had to be careful about that ruthless streak of his. She had the sense that if it was a matter of his safety, even his escape from Belle Reve, he’d would break anybody’s neck without hesitation. Even hers. He was only loyal to her because she set her terms clearly and followed them.

In a way, that was more comforting. Loyalty based on emotion always felt… shaky. At least here, she didn't have to worry about some social faux pas meaning the difference between ally or enemy. She didn't need an emotional bond with Adrian. Really, she wasn't sure he formed emotional bonds with anyone. But as long as she kept her rules transparent, consistent, she could trust that he had her back.

Even when his ruthless side showed its face.

“No.” she replied with a shake of her head, “He hasn't done anything to deserve being marked.”

“C’mon, Nikki. I know you like him, but-”

“It’s not a matter of liking him. It's a matter of principle.” she huffed, “If I mark him without warning, people are going to start to wonder if they’re next. That’s just the fast track to me losing what little control I’ve managed to scrape together in here- and if I go down, you’re coming with me. And it’s a Band-Aid over a bullet wound. The ones who attacked him are just going to find another target if he’s gone. It doesn’t solve anything.”

She took a step back, comforted by the brush of shadows against her skin. There she paused, just for a moment, and met Adrian’s eyes. 

“And I don’t like him. He’s just another prisoner.”

“I dunno, you didn’t get this mad about the last guy who got beat up.”

“You were the last guy who got beat up.”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

Nikoletta rolled her eyes and fell into the shadows. 

She reemerged from a pool of darkness in the corner of the medbay, suddenly enough that a nurse in the hall flinched at the sight of her. Most of the staff had grown used to Nikoletta’s habit of slipping between rooms, but that didn’t make it any less startling to see her suddenly appear in a once-empty room like some kind of apparition.

It didn’t take long for her to find Abner. He was in the bay closest to the wall, far away from anyone or anything else. Ever since he’d arrived, she’d gotten the sense that the staff was a little afraid of him. She didn’t understand it - aside from the power dampener, he was about the most unassuming guy she could have imagined in a place like this. She doubted he even tried to shoo away the rats that sometimes scurried through the halls.

But the staff were afraid of her too. She didn’t usually give it a lot of stock. 

Abner’s eyes were closed, but the faintly pained expression on his face told her he wasn’t asleep. She didn’t blame him. Half his face was swollen in a brutal black eye, and the rest of his skin was equally littered with bruises and dried blood. Nikoletta wondered, briefly, if he’d even fought back. From the nature of the wounds, harsh and dark and from every direction, she guessed that he hadn’t. The power dampener had been removed from his neck, showcasing a dark band of bruising around his throat - like he’d been shoved to the ground and landed hard on the dampener. Nikoletta couldn’t help but wince at the sight. Some of the bruises were almost dark enough to look like her shadows, save for the faintest purple-red tint.

“Who attacked you?”

She must have been moving more quietly than she realized. Abner’s eyes snapped open with a sharp gasp, and he jolted upwards in the bed. A faint light glowed from somewhere near his wrists, but he tamped it down with a grimace just a moment later.

“Nikoletta?”

“Who else?” she replied, planting her hands on her hips and frowning again at the bruises painting his skin. She waved a hand vaguely in his direction, every movement sharp. “Who did this? Who attacked you?”

He opened his mouth to respond, then frowned and shut it again. He shook his head. 

“You won’t tell me.” Nikoletta guessed, clenching her jaw in anger, “Goddammit, Abner, I’m trying to help you! I’m trying to make sure this doesn’t happen again!”

“It won’t fix anything.”

“This isn’t like grade school bullies,” she insisted, “If you tell me who did it, the problem will go away. Permanently. I need to know who did this.”

“So you can kill them?”

“I haven’t killed anyone.” Nikoletta snapped. The words came out too harsh, and she wanted to wince. Abner flinched, but there was something deeper in his eyes. He raised his eyebrows. Nikoletta resisted the urge to scoff. “Listen. All I do is mark the ones who have it coming to them. I don’t sponsor any violence of my own, I just… rescind my protection. Anyone who’s marked has to fend for themself. That’s how it works.”

“But they all die anyway, don’t they?” he asked. His voice had gone soft. It sent a maelstrom of emotion through Nikoletta’s chest. She wanted to be angry - with him for poking holes in all the rules that should have kept him safe, and with his attackers for sparking all this to begin with - but strangely couldn’t find the emotion within herself. Abner’s eyes were tired and sad, the effect only magnified by the fact that one was nearly swollen shut. 

“Yes.” Nikoletta finally hissed, “They die. That’s the nature of Belle Reve. If I didn’t have my system in place, they’d have killed you too.”

“Maybe that’s not so bad…”

If it were up to me, I’d just mark him now. Just to get it over with. 

Nikoletta grimaced as the words echoed in her mind. Adrian wanted her to mark him. Whoever had attacked Abner wanted her to mark him. Hell- it seemed like Abner himself wanted her to mark him, just to rip the Band-Aid off. 

For the slimmest moment, she was tempted. 

But only for that one moment. 

“Stop that. You’re in pain. Death won’t bring you the relief you want.” Nikoletta muttered, “Trust me, I’ve been there myself. The only way to make things better is to fix them yourself. Now tell me who attacked you.” 

“STAR Labs?” he asked instead, apparently ignoring her demands, “Is that what brought you there? Is that why you… you hurt like that?”

“Of course it was fucking STAR Labs.” she said, reaching for the sleeve of her jumpsuit and tugging it up to expose the silvery track marks at her elbows, “You think I had these before STAR Labs? You think I was in prison before STAR Labs? You think I had to cover every fucking inch of my skin before STAR Labs?”

“Why are you angry?”

“Why aren’t you?” she fired back, “Look at yourself. Look at the bruises. It’s going to happen again if you don’t tell me who gave them to you.”

Abner was quiet for a long time. He stared down at his hands with a distant look in his eyes. Nikoletta shifted on her feet. It shouldn’t have been this difficult of a decision to make. It was a choice between safety or pain, and he didn’t have to do anything but give her a name. There wouldn’t even be any guilt in it, she thought. They’d struck the first blow. The Queen of Belle Reve had very particular rules, and those rules had been broken. It was all fair play.

Finally he looked up and met her eyes. Nikoletta lifted her eyebrows, awaiting his response. 

“Will you do me a favor?”

“Hm?” 

“Will you get me a glass of water? Please?” Abner asked, his voice falling back to that near-whisper of his, “The nurses don’t like coming over here. Not when I don’t have the…”

He trailed off but gestured vaguely at his neck. Nikoletta nodded. She still wasn’t sure what power it was that had the nurses so afraid of him - something to do with that odd light when she startled him, she was sure - but it must have been something big. Most things that came from STAR Labs were. 

Nikoletta took a step back and melted into the shadows. She was back a moment later, a half-filled plastic cup clutched in one gloved hand. She held it out, and Abner took the cup with a faint but grateful smile. He sat up and took a sip, grimacing like every motion hurt. Looking at him, she believed it. She hoped the nurses had at least given him some sort of painkiller before they vanished.

“I don’t like killing people.” Abner mumbled after a few long moments of silence. His fingers worried at the edges of the cup. He refused to meet her eyes.

“So you’d rather let yourself get beat to shit like this than tell me who did it? None of the blood is on your hands here, Abner. They attacked someone under my protection, so they deserve to have their own protections stripped away. It’s all just turnabout. Fairness. Really… if you tell me now, they’ll probably be gone before you get out of that bed. Why the fuck are you protecting them?”

“Because it’s still…”

Abner trailed off, shaking his head with a low sigh. 

“I’m sorry, Nik. I can’t.”

Nikoletta scoffed and took a step back from him. She couldn’t believe this - beaten so badly he’d landed in the medbay, covered in blood and bruises, so severe they’d even removed his power dampener, and he still refused to give her a name. Did he really have so much guilt for something he hadn’t even done? How had he managed to take down STAR Labs, with a hyperactive conscience like that?

The sadness in Abner’s eyes only deepened as Nikoletta took another step back. It was hard to look at. She sighed. 

“Do you need anything else? Before I go?”

“Um… no. I don’t think so.” he said, “But if you… if you wanted to come back sometime? Just to talk for a while? This place, it reminds me of the lab. It’s hard to be here.”

She could understand that. Normally she avoided the medbay like the plague for that same reason. She didn’t like her cell much either, but this was… worse. Nikoletta pursed her lips but gave him a singular nod.

“I’ll be back in a few hours. Try to think of some things you want to talk about before I get back.”

She took a final step back, returning to the familiar not-quite-comfort of her shadows, and had already begin to slip into that other realm when she heard Abner’s soft voice one more time. 

“Nikoletta. Thank you.”

She was back in the cafeteria before she could even think to respond, but the words rattled around in her mind much longer than they should have. That whole interaction had been… odd. He was an odd man. In a lot of ways. She didn’t quite mind it, but it was certainly different from the interactions she was used to. 

“Any luck?” Adrian’s voice, deceptively chipper, pulled her from her thoughts. Nikoletta shot him a lukewarm look, irritation bubbling just underneath the surface. 

“No. He won’t give them up. For whatever God-forsaken reason.” she said, shaking her head, “Lands himself in a hospital bed but won’t even tell me who put him there.”

“I’m telling you, Nik, you could save yourself a lot of trouble if you just-”

“I’m not marking him. Especially not now. That sets a precedent I don’t want to set.”

“Suit yourself.” he muttered, though he clearly didn’t agree with her decision in the slightest. After a moment he shrugged, tossing it aside like water off a duck’s back. He waved a hand towards the opposite side of the cafeteria. “Well, in that case… I’ve been doing a little recon-”

“I’m assuming that means you walked straight up to their table and dared them to give you the gossip?”

“It was recon. I was very subtle.” Adrian repeated with a huff, “And it sounds like one of the guys that jumped him was that calendar guy, with all the tattoos? Heard one of the cameras got footage of it, just a couple frames. Y’know, it’s probably not a great idea to attack a guy in the middle of the night if you’re one of the four prisoners in here who can be recognized from the back si-”

“Thanks.” she said, cutting him off before he could get into one of his diatribes, “I’ll take care of it.”

____

“Julian.” 

This time, she meant to be startling. The tattooed criminal sat bolt upright in his cot, frantically scanning the shadows for where her voice had come from. Nikoletta took a step forward, allowing herself to be lit by the dull yellow bulbs that shone in from the hallway. The sight of her didn’t ease the fear on his face. 

“I heard you broke my rules.” Nikoletta continued, drawing each word out, “You attacked a prisoner who wasn’t marked. You know what the punishment for that is.”

All lingering dredges of sleep had vanished from his posture, and he looked at her with wary eyes. His fingers were curled tightly into his bedsheet, as if he were debating trying to smother her with it. Surely he had to know he was outmatched here. Surely he had to know that was why she confronted him in the dead of night, blanketed on all sides by her shadows.

“So what? Not like I did anything big, just knocked him around a little. Fuckin’ creep deserved it, too.” he replied, the words so loud and barbed that she could hear cots creaking in the neighboring cells. Tension drew into Nikoletta’s posture, both from the words and the growing audience to them. She took a step closer, aiming to administer her punishment swiftly and potently. With a mark, and with all the gossip that had been swirling over the ordeal, he’d be gone by breakfast. 

But they all die anyway, don’t they?

I don’t like killing people.

Nikoletta froze on the spot, jaw clenched so tightly it hurt. It was a matter of principle. Julian broke her rules, she administered punishment, it resolved the conflict that landed Abner in the medical wing and secured Nikoletta’s reputation as a strict but objective ruler. Half a second’s action to repair a host of issues. All it took was one little death. 

But she found herself stepping back. Confusion crested across Julian’s face, in equal share with the same sharp wariness. 

“No more second chances.” Nikoletta warned, darkness dripping off every word, “Do better. This will be the only mercy you’ll get from me.”

And with that, she vanished into the dark.