#like yeah; he HAS turned out okay - but he and Jinx are two sides of the exact same tragic coin

[jackalmeat]

Mostly just throwing spaghetti at my own mental wall and seeing what sticks, but I have Unorganized And Poorly Articulated Thoughts about the fact that Ekko and Jinx are around the same age, lost their guardians and peer groups at the same time and in a deeply traumatic way, etc.; and yet I feel like Ekko's status as a victim of their broken, oppressive, and exploitative social landscape doesn't receive remotely the same acknowledgment or weight as Jinx's.

While I'm sure that that's due in large part to the fact that Ekko has been successful at building a sense of healthy, mutualistic belonging + community with others in a way that Jinx clearly hasn't, it's nonetheless worth noting that [A] he had to build that and learn how to take care of both himself and others when he was still a child, and the maturity he exhibits is a direct and tragic result of his boyhood being cut violently short; and [B] failing to acknowledge him meaningfully as a victim and a kid, just because he seems to have 'turned out okay' or some-such, reads very distinctly to me like an extension of the documented tendency in our own world for people to "adultify" young black boys due to perceiving them as older, less innocent, and more threatening/less in need of protection than their white peers.

[luveline]

Hi Jade! I love your writings so much. I often keep them as a treat for my way to work - only if I can be patient.

There is a big thunderstorm right now and I rememberd how when I was little my dad took me in his arms and went to the window to show me I don't have to be afraid of a thunderstorm. That got me thinking about Eddie and Roan. I can really picture them doing this. And r witnesses, maybe before the proposal (somehow I mentally devide their timeline in bevor and after the proposal and moving houses).

I don't know if you would want to write something like that. Perfectly fine if you don't.

hi my love, thank you so much for your request!! i hope you like it! eddie and roan —eddie comforts roan during a thunderstorm. 2k, fem!reader

Eddie knows without looking out of the window that the crunching sound outside is the tires of your car as you park. A slamming follows, then your footsteps hurried in the rain bumping up the stairs. You open the door, ushering in a hail of rain and your funny awkward smile he adores so much, like you're surprised to find him in his own home. 

"Hi, sweetheart," you say, rain rivulets racing down your cheeks, "it's raining bad." 

"Yeah?" he asks, semi-serious. 

He's feeling slovenly today (and pretty much every other day too, though he's allowing himself the indulgence of listening to his wants for once) and so he remains laying down on the couch, but he reaches out with two grabbing hands for you, encouraging you in. 

You frown at his teasing, slipping out of your shoes and your coat, and letting them fall as you walk toward him. He knows you aren't so rude as to leave your stuff lying around. You're as eager to see him today as he is to see you, because you've been separated for a few days; you've been at work and your own home, Eddie at Roan's art and crafts summer workshop, both slightly too busy to come and see one another without causing upheaval. 

You walk into his arms, which is to say you kneel on the couch and then collapse like a dry sand castle into his chest. You're a grown woman with enough weight to make him groan at your sudden landing. Eddie wouldn't change a thing about you, including your roughness, and he takes your hug in stride. 

"I missed you so much," you say, kissing his jaw. 

You hadn't meant to kiss his jaw; you go in for a corrective peck against his lips, your smile sticky with clear balm and smelling of oranges, peaches. Sweet, citrusy. Eddie licks his lips when you pull away and beams at the transferred flavour. 

"Ew," you murmur, wrinkling your nose even as you smile.

"You taste nice, what can I say?" Eddie looks at you through one eye. "You actually got prettier while you were away, didn't you? I missed you so much I made you prettier." 

"You have freaky mind powers," you say agreeably, pressing another quick kiss to his cheek. He must shine in the light from all the spread gloss. 

"It's really raining out there. Did you get that leak fixed last time?" you ask. 

Eddie puts an arm behind his head and looks up at the ceiling. "Ah, she'll be okay. It can't get that bad again, can it?" 

You try to cover his mouth and prevent his jinx, but it's too late. Within five minutes, the rain has turned to a hammering spatter against the roof and ceiling of Eddie's home, and the windows shake in their frames as the wind howls. 

You ease to one side of Eddie to take your weight off of his chest and the two of you peer out at the quickly darkening sky, perturbed but nothing anymore severe at the suddenness of the weather. 

"Maybe that's why it's been so warm," he suggests, trailing a fingertip down your back. "It was waiting to break." 

"The heat?" You rub your cheek against his shoulder, and take a sneaky breath in that Eddie pretends he doesn't notice. 

"Isn't that what it is, the pressure? Weather systems? Cyclones?" 

"Sorry, handsome, buzzwords won't turn me into a weatherologist." You put your hand on his cheek and rub the pale, stubbly skin beneath it with an adoring thumb. "I bet you're right. Do you have enough stuff to survive if we get rained in for the weekend?" 

"Sure. Got a whole crock pot of stew going, with tiny carrots and pearl onions and the works. Sautéed, by the way." 

"Sounds delicious," you say, smiling down at him like he's hung the moon. He'll never, ever get sick of the sweetness with which you see him. "Can I try some?" 

"It should be done now if you want me to fix you a bowl." 

You climb off of him as carefully as you're able to, so you almost jab him in the crown jewels. You're sorry kiss makes up for it, and better the little sound of happiness you make from the kitchenette after your first taste of stew. You eat another spoonful quickly, and Eddie's content to let you do as you like as long as you keep smiling like that. 

He's thinking Roan's been suspiciously quiet for a while when his daughter miraculously appears. She looks exactly like him, though Roan has a slightly different nose. Her dark eyebrows are pulled down and in, her little pink lip pouted out. 

"What's up?" he asks gently, always sorry when she's unhappy. He clambers up into a sitting position and holds out his arms. She rushes forward, burying her face in his KISS shirt without a sound. "Ro, what's wrong?" 

He pet's her hair out of her face. She whispers something, but Eddie can't hear her. He ducks his head and whispers too. "What's wrong? I can't hear you, you're so quiet. Shout at me, please." 

"I don't like the storm." 

Eddie's eyebrows rise in realisation. "Ah, I know. Sorry, baby, I should've come to see if you were okay, you don't like the loud noise, huh?" 

"It flashed, dad." 

"Did we have lightning?" 

"It was really bright, and then the sky cracked." 

Eddie rubs the short stretch of her back, her grubby t-shirt bunching under his hand. He decides that's as good a distraction as any he'll get and hugs Roan to his chest as he stands. "Let's put pyjamas on. Wanna say hi to Y/N first?" 

Roan perks up when she sees you. You're caught red-handed, still standing at the kitchen eating spoons of stew over your hand, but neither Munson cares. You waylay them with cheek kisses and offer to plate up dinner. Eddie things it's a great idea. 

"Before she eats it all," he murmurs to Roan cheekily. 

You harrumph, but the emphasis is lost on account of your full mouth. Eddie's kidding, but if you did want to eat that whole crock pot he'd let you, he likes you that much. Or, he'd let you given you save enough for Roan. She loves loves loves pearl onions. 

He wrangles her into new pyjamas and brushes out her hair, but Eddie's affection and hugs can't hide bellowing rain and thunder, and by the time he's braided her hair out of her face in loose pigtails she's shaking in his lap. 

"It's really scary, is it?" he asks. 

"It's so loud," she says, her voice tenuous as a string of silk. Eddie senses a bout of tears approaching. "Daddy, I don't like it, I want it to go away." 

Eddie bundles her up into his arms again and carries her slowly back into the living room. You frown at them as they pass the kitchenette, concerned by Roan as she hides her face in Eddie's front. 

He pats her back, swaying her from side to side. Eddie can't make the rain stop, and he can't quieten thunder, but he can comfort her. He can explain it so it feels less huge and out of reach. 

"Baby," he says, approaching the window. "Have a look. It's okay, I promise, just have a look." 

Roan brings her head up reluctantly. 

"See all that? It's not scary if you don't want it to be." Rain hits the window, the sound dulled by walls but still abrasive. He turns his body so Roan can see the huge dark clouds above them. "I know the clouds are scary because they're dark, but they're dark because they're full of so much water. The water comes out, and the clouds go white again, that's all it is." 

"What about the banging?" she asks, wide eyes glassy as she peers between the window and her dad's patient smile. 

"You know lightning, the big white flash? The lightning moves through the cloud so fast that it makes a loud noise, but it's not mean. Think about if me and you were running real fast down the hallway. Our footsteps would be loud, but we'd be having so much fun we don't think it's bad." 

Roan looks out at the rainy road and field outside of the trailer window. She's pouting.

"Like a sponge?" she asks quietly. 

"Want to go look?" 

"Outside?" she asks, shaking her head vehemently. "No, dad." 

"No, in the sink! In the sink, I'll show you."

Eddie carries her to the kitchen. You're looking at him with hearts for eyes, and he has no idea what it's for but he sends you a joking wink. He props her on the counter, his hand on her knees to stop any accidental slipping, and passes her the sponge. 

"Alright, RoRo, you have the sponge and hold it under the water." He flicks on the cold top. Roan holds it under the water, watching intensely as it starts to darken. "Now squeeze it, all the colour goes away." 

She squeezes it. Cold water splashes the side of the empty sink basin and it sounds loud in the relative quiet of the kitchen. "It's like the thunder," she says.

"Exactly!" He rubs her little shoulder. "Wanna try the sponge again?" he asks. 

It's simple, but it helps her calm down, and his explanation is seemingly good enough. Roan doesn't suddenly start to enjoy the awful banging of thunder or the rain as it batters the metal roof, but she isn't petrified to tears anymore, and after a nice warm dinner she turns too lethargic to worry. 

You and Eddie sit together on the couch, Roan in his lap, dozing. You've changed into the pyjamas you keep in his top drawer, the fabric soft against his naked arm. You don't have a designated drawer and Eddie kind of loves it, all your things mixed in with his like you live here with them. You should. He's asked you twice, but you've turned him down gently each time, unafraid to be be honest about how you feel: I love you, Eddie, and I don't want us to rush into things, don't want to be the evil stepmom stealing her space and her dad. 

One at a time, then, he'd joked. First we'll get married.

"You did a really amazing job, earlier," you say, letting your head fall onto his shoulder. Looking up at him through your eyelashes, you've never looked so pretty, not ever. 

"When?" he asks, voice warmed by affection, a stickying fondness like the word has been coated in honey.

"When you were explaining the rain to her. You're always patient. You're just as lovely as she is." 

He stares at you for too long. Seconds upon seconds, his eyes tracing the cuve of your nose, the bow of your top lip, and the softness of your jaw, up to your eyes again. 

"You're the nicest person I ever met," you say. 

"Hey, don't go spreading that around," he warns, faux-fierce. 

You're answering laugh is like silver sewn into the air, one slow loop of your breath at a time. Eddie can't believe it, this life, his girl in his lap and his love on his arm, warm and cosy and waiting out the storm without any worries at all. 

"Luckiest guy on earth," he says, kissing your hairline tenderly. "That's me." 

"Luckiest, kindest, prettiest–" 

"If you're gonna do this all night me and you are gonna have a problem." 

You burst out laughing. Roan rouses on your chest, joining in on instinct, her giggles tiny and tired. "What's funny?" she asks hoarsely. 

Eddie scoots forward in his seat to grab her drink. 

"We're just happy," he explains.

Super, uber happy, even with the bad weather. 

[firstelevens]

WIP Tag Game

Rules: Share a snippet from whatever you’re currently working on, and then tag 5 people.

tagged by @abarbaricyalp

no-pressure tagging @sesamestreep @philtstone @trans-elrond @iasmelaion @sambambucky

the actual thing that I am currently working on is the next chapter of the D&D AU and I'm trying not to jinx that, so instead here's an excerpt from an idea that came from a "loss of powers" prompt and immediately got way too long

In the eight minutes that it takes for Yelena to pilot the jet down the runway and up to the mouth of the hangar, Sam has managed to envision every possible bad situation. He thinks about the aftermath of explosions, about alien poisons and unknown creatures rising from the sea. Even as the gangway comes down and Sam hurries on board with two of the medics, he’s envisioning something nightmarish.

It’s more frightening, somehow, to see what’s actually happened: Bucky is laid up on a stretcher, paler than Sam’s ever seen him and shivering uncontrollably in spite of the multiple blankets and jackets that Yelena has laid over him. His lips are nearly blue, his breathing shallow and rattling just a little. There’s bruising showing beneath the collar of his compression shirt, winding back towards his left shoulder.

“Dislocated shoulder?” asks one of the medics, peering at the bruises when Sam shifts the collar out of the way.

“Unlikely,” says Sam, biting back the impulse to say something more cutting about knowing who the hell he’s treating. Bucky is unconscious, but Sam still murmurs an apology when he stops the gurney transfer to hit the plates of Bucky’s vibranium arm in the pattern that Bucky taught him. He catches the arm as it detaches with a click, hefting it against his shoulder. He doesn’t know if the bruises came from the arm or from something else, but he’ll be damned if he lets them get worse.

The medics wheel Bucky back to the infirmary and Sam hands the vibranium arm off to Torres, trusting him to find somewhere safe for it. He turns to Yelena and motions for her to follow as he stays by the gurney’s side.

“Are you okay?” he asks her, as she joins them. “If you’re injured at all, the medics can take care of it for you.”

But Yelena waves off the offer, focused on Bucky. “He was cut on his stomach,” she says, before Sam can ask, “but he could walk after, so it was not so bad, I think. He took another one to the leg. That was worse.”

“And the shrapnel?” asks Sam.

“Grenade,” Yelena says. “He pushed me out of the way. Would have been fine, except they were trying to blow up the door from a steel shipping container. It came down on his leg.”

“Fractured?”

Yelena shrugs. “He would not let any of us see. Was his ankle, maybe.”

Sam steps back and lets the medics transfer Bucky to a bed. His shivering gets worse with the blankets removed, but there’s no way to check on those injuries without cutting open his shirt.

There are bruises everywhere, still purple and angry. As they cut the shirt open, Sam braces for the sight of a bad gash on Bucky’s stomach and is met instead with a dressed wound, a fresh compress taped down at the edges.

He turns to Yelena. “When did you do this?”

“He did,” says Yelena. “This morning. Or maybe yesterday? Time is strange; we lost hours on the jet.”

“Yesterday?” repeats Sam. “When did all this happen?”

“Thursday, late night,” says Yelena. “He said it was okay. We came to the safe house, he cleaned the wound, he hopped around on one foot, and I laughed at him and it seemed like it was fine.”

“And then what?”

“It should have healed overnight,” says Yelena. “Alexei and Walker, they were caught in the blast, too. By morning they were back to normal.”

“Yeah, that’s how the super soldier healing works,” Sam says absently. 

It takes a second for his own words to sink in, his eyes dropping to Bucky, laid out on the table with all his injuries still fresh.

Sam has seen Bucky break a rib and rough-house with the boys twelve hours later. He’s seen new cuts turn to scars over the course of a jet ride home. The last time Bucky got shot, the only reason they rushed to treat him was because there was a chance the wound would heal over the bullet before they could get it out.

Particularly bad injuries will leave their mark for a few days, but normal bruises have never lingered like this on Bucky’s skin, and lacerations heal so quickly that Bucky tends to refuse butterfly bandages for them on principle. (Except for the one time that AJ and Cass were there to see him get patched up, when he was suddenly a model patient, and allowed Sam to fuss over him for twice as long without a single complaint.)

“But how…?” he starts to ask, then looks up at Yelena. “You said there’s no change?”

“None,” she says. “But there’s something I didn’t tell you.”

She goes into one of the many pockets on her vest, patting around until she gets to the right one. She unzips it and pulls out an evidence baggie, which she holds up for Sam to see. Inside is the kind of dart that would go in a tranq gun, but the vial at the back is broken.

Sam takes the bag and peers at the dart. “Where’d this come from?”

“I don’t know,” Yelena says. “I found it embedded in Alexei’s body armor. The blast must have broken it.”

“What does it have to do with Bucky?”

“Because someone in a sniper’s nest shot one at Walker also,” says Yelena. “And I thought I saw Barnes pull something from his neck before the grenade.”

He frowns. “And they didn’t fire them at anyone else?”

Yelena shakes her head. “They missed when they fired at Walker, so maybe it’s nothing.”

“But you don’t think so, or you wouldn’t have brought Bucky back here.”

“Whatever this is, it’s dangerous. I think it is not so good if the Contessa knows about it.”

It’s not too much of a stretch of the imagination for Sam to picture what Fontaine might do if she found out about a chemical compound that could affect the serum this way. Hell, it’s not a stretch of the imagination to picture what most powerful people would do.

Sam thanks Yelena and tells her to rest up before she flies back. She’s going to say no, he thinks, and then Kate appears and says something about mac and cheese, and Yelena is being pulled along with her whether she likes it or not.

When Joaquín comes through the doors a second later, Sam is surprised to see him already wearing his flight suit. “How did you–?”

He grins. “Give me a little credit, Cap. This is Bucky we’re talking about.”

He can’t find it in him to argue the knowing grin on Joaquín’s face. “Thank you,” he says, handing over the evidence bag. “Fly safe.”

“I always do,” Joaquín says, zipping the baggie into a pocket and turning on his heel. “I’ll let you know when I get there.”

As the infirmary doors swing shut behind Torres, Sam looks down at Bucky, who’s back under multiple layers of blankets as one of the medics gets an IV in his arm. The shivering has come down, but his lips still look blue, his breaths still shallow.

He brushes away some of the hair sticking to Bucky’s forehead—the only part of him that Sam can reach—and opens up the app that Bucky made him download a year ago, insisting that he might need it one day.

There are exactly two contacts saved in the app. Sam hits the second one and waits.

[lonelychicago]

i have to admit... the coma buck theory is growing on me. so... here's a drabble of eddie shaving buck's scruff while he's in a coma. <3 season 6b speculation

"I'm glad you're okay." Eddie murmurs. He always talks to Buck, hoping the man hears him even if unconscious. Hoping Buck knows Eddie's always there, that he'll never lose hope.

Buck's been in a coma for almost two months now and— it's been hard. It's been really hard, if he's being honest. Life moves on, shifts are scheduled, events at Chris' school happen and Eddie— Eddie feels like a part of him is missing all the time. Like a limb was amputated and he doesn't know what to do without it.

He always turns around when someone says something funny, wanting to see Buck's reaction and then he remembers.

"Today was a quiet shift." He smiles as he traces his fingers through Buck's beard. He kinda likes the scruffy look but he knows the man hates it and always made it a point to be clean and shaven. So Eddie will do it for him until Buck wakes up. "I know I'm not supposed to say the q words but if you hate it so much maybe you should wake up and kick my ass, huh?"

Eddie stops for a second, waiting with bated breath for Buck to react, to open his eyes and look at Eddie with that frown between his eyes and his nose all scrunched up. Eddie waits for the "You just jinxed the team, man!" but it never comes.

"Yeah, okay." He breathes out and prepares the materials. At first the nurses were supposed to do this but they did a sloppy job and they were too fast, never treating Buck with the gentleness and the softness he deserves. So Eddie might have yelled at them a little but hey, he got the job done. Whatever.

"Chris has a girlfriend, did you know? it's pretty recent and don't worry, I don't think they even kissed yet." He chuckles as he spreads the shaving cream with soft touches. "I know you'd say he's too young for that." He whispers and looks down at Buck. "He's growing too fast and you're missing it, Buckley." Eddie says with a strained voice and then shakes his head.

No. He can't do this. Not right now.

"Anyway. What else? Oh! There was this funny call today at shift…" Eddie talks and talks as he moves methodically.

Eddie's fingers flit over Buck's skin quickly, the blade becoming a steady rhythm of contact as it glides over his neck and jaw carefully and softly. From time to time, his hands meet either side of Buck's face, turning him this way and that to allow Eddie to reach the area he needs. It's— intimate and domestic in a way that makes him ache.

He even lets his mind wander, imagines doing this with Buck awake and instead of the hospital, they're in Eddie's bathroom— but it would be their bathroom. And Buck would be sitting in the counter sink, with Eddie between his legs. He would smirk and follow Eddie with his gaze, blue eyes happy and shining with love and a tinge of mirth. It's a nice fantasy.

Maybe someday, Eddie thinks.

Finally, he grabs a small towel and cleans Buck's face. His touch is feather-light as he gently wipes away the remaining shaving cream from Buck's skin.

Because of him being so focused on Buck's features, he doesn't miss the way the man's eyelids flutter like he's trying to wake up.

"Buck?" Eddie whispers, quiet and scared and reluctantly hopeful. "Hey, Buck? Wake up. Please." Eddie begs, his voice breaking in the last words as he lets go of the stuff, letting it fall to the ground and reaches a hand to grab one of Buck's, his fingers squeezing it almost too hard. "C'mon. I know you can do it."

Eddie waits, waits and waits and he starts to think it was a figment of his imagination, that he's slowly losing his mind.

But then —

He feels a slight squeeze, barely there. He looks down and Buck's hand is holding his.

Buck's holding his hand.

When his gaze goes back up, he finds himself looking at tired, confused blues.

"Hey, Buck." Eddie chuckles wetly in disbelief and excitement, though his voice is quiet and gentle. His vision goes blurry with tears that he quickly blinks away, not wanting to miss a second of Buck's face.

"Eddie." Buck rasps out.

Finally. Eddie thinks. After so long, he can finally hear Buck's voice. And for the first time in what feels like forever, Eddie truly thinks everything will be okay.

[eoieopda]

Hi! May I request a Namjoon there was only one bed F2L? And congratulations on your milestone!

tysm, sweet bean! i hope you enjoy the last installment of my 2k drabblepalooza 💕

the one with namjoon and the graveyard shift

pairing: doctor!kim namjoon x doctor!reader (gn) type: drabble (f) | wc: 1k | rating: pg13 au: medical (emergency dept.), friends to something summary: there are two (2) doctors working the emergency department overnight. there’s only one (1) bed in the on-call room. cw: the setting, obvi; references to used PPE (blood/fluid implied but not described); both are trauma surgeons, so that’s discussed in minimal detail; dark joke re: calling time of death — they’re coping with their circumstances, okay? also, not thoroughly proofread atm 😵‍💫 🔞 this drabble is sfw, regardless, my content is not for minors. minors and ageless blogs who interact with me or my writing will be blocked.

By the time the rush is over, Kim Namjoon is ready to collapse. 

It’s damn near three o’clock in the morning, and every part of him aches. That fact is almost exclusively due to standing for as long as he has been, turning and running on a dime; however, the unintentional, stray elbow he took to the side of the head can’t be discounted.

All he wants to do now is drop his overworked body onto the closest flat surface, even if it means he passes out where he stands.

“Only on your second gown for the night? Aish,” scoffs the only other on-call physician. “Gotta get those rookie numbers up, Joon.”

Namjoon’s eyelids have started to turn into lead, but the rest of him feels immediately lighter when he hears your voice.

He glances up to find you leaning against the doorframe, peeling off yet another pair of gloves. You drop them into the bright red, biomedical waste bin to your left. It’s where he just finished discarding a trauma gown that could pass as a Jackson Pollock piece, unaware that you’d been watching. 

He’s exhausted. He smiles anyway, though, and points to the hair spilling out of the elastic band you’d tied it up with. 

As he does, he steps forward, closer, and laughs, “Speaking of rookies —” He pauses briefly to tuck a stray strand back behind your ear. “Teach your ponytail to keep up. The emergency department is no place for slackers.”

His hand lingers at the side of your face a little longer than is necessary. He tells himself it’s simply because he’s powering down, but that lie doesn’t convince him. The warmth radiating off your cheek is the closest thing to comfort in this wing of the hospital, and it’s making it even harder to keep his legs underneath him.

This kind of contact — the gentle, non-emergent kind — is rare in this line of work. Trauma surgeons like the pair of you are rarely able to be slow or soft, so this tiny gesture seems to affect you, too. You sway a bit, likely involuntarily, and lean into his touch. The weight of your night so far makes your shoulders slump, even as you lift your hand to cover your yawn. 

As if you’ve read his mind, you nod your head in the general direction of the on-call room. 

“Time to call it?”

Not too tired for one of your bits, it seems.

Namjoon bites back a grin, glances down at his watch, then looks back up at you. “Time of death: 2:52,” he announces solemnly with a shake of his head and a sigh. “I’ve expired.”

One corner of your mouth tugs downward, too tired to fake a full frown. You link your arm around his, let your head droop sideways against his shoulder. You hum, “Rest in peace, Dr. Kim.”

He snorts. “Yeah, for fifteen minutes until the next rush hits.” 

You pause on the way out the door to rap your knuckles against it. He doesn’t have to ask why: it’s wooden, you’re superstitious, and Namjoon, as usual, likely just jinxed you. 

You shoot him a pointed look when you reel your arm back, and though you don’t chide him out loud, he grimaces in silent apology for giving the universe ideas. Then, without any further hesitation, you hold each other up as you shuffle off down the hallway.

He’s thankful for these quiet moments with you, even though they often come in the middle of the night. Ones where neither of you needs to summon the energy for words because you can get your point across regardless. It feels good to be known so well, especially when every other part of his ecosystem changes so rapidly from minute to minute.

Namjoon adapts well — a good man in a storm, according to you — but there’s one change he’s not prepared for: the bunked beds in the on-call room are down a mattress.

He stops short as soon as he sees the unoccupied frame of the top bunk, which he normally crashes in; not because he prefers it, but because he suspects you’re afraid of heights.

“Aish,” he mutters.

Without having to think about it for a second, he slips his arm out from the crook of yours and gestures to the door. “I think that broken gurney is still hanging out near the radiology department.”

Your forehead crinkles in confusion until he continues, “I’ll go and crash there.”

You frown, which doesn’t surprise him in the slightest. 

For him, you willingly sacrifice the last Nescafé pod, the only Yakult left in the cafeteria, and most significantly, your good pens — the ones that don’t smudge, no matter how hastily you write. The ones you bring from home and refuse to share with anyone else because they can’t be trusted to return them. 

You give, and for once, Namjoon has the opportunity to make you take.

He turns to leave, only to be stopped by your hand looping around his wrist. You don’t say anything; you simply shake your head and then nod towards the bottom bunk. He lets you lead him to your destination, lets you let him go so you can shimmy across the mattress. Back now flush against the wall behind you, you look up at him for as long as you can stand to keep your eyes open.

Namjoon doesn’t move, and he doesn’t know why he doesn’t. He wants to. You look so comfortable — so soft — despite how small you’ve made yourself to accommodate him. Inviting, even.

Then, it hits him: If he curls up next to you now, will he be willing to get up again? 

No, he thinks, absolutely not.

Even with your eyes closed, you sense him stalling. You frown again and this time, it’s interrupted by a yawn. Without opening your eyes, you mumble, “Paging Dr. Kim.”

He knows better than to ignore a call like that.

Carefully, he sits on the mattress with his back to you. Then, he lets the weight of his exhaustion pull him down towards the pillow, to you. He sighs as he sinks, already relieved. Already softer.

As if on instinct, your arm drapes over his midsection and eliminates any millimeters that may have survived this long in a space so small. The last thing he feels before he drifts off to sleep is your forehead nuzzling into the space between his shoulder blades.

[lunchtimebedamned1997]

Cosplay WIP and Doodle Dump >:3

Haven't really been working on a bunch of digital art lately bc I've been busy working on cosplays and crying over Stolitz XD

But I thought I'd show you all what I've been working on since I'm really excited about it! <3 (So many updates :D)

Let's start with Helluva doodles!

I finally started drawing Blitzø and Fizzy-Frog! <3 Fizzy looks so much healthier in the newst ep I could CRY ohhh my goddd. And both Fizz and Blitzø look so dapper! Little cuties! Little cuties who are friends again! My heart!

Next up: Cosplay props!

We've got a lot of stuff for the Vees, and then a liiiitle bit of Angel Dust progress to show y'all!

Let's start with Vox since I only have one main thing I've made so far!

I had an old pair of headphones that stopped working, and I'd already worn them to costest Vox (since I'm not going for the TV screen approach) and so I thought I could give them a makeover! I decided to do the symbols from his silly little hat, and paint the microphone tip to resemble the little red bauble at the end of his antenna!

I just sanded the labels off, painted everything in acrylic and then sealed it with clear nail polish, pretty simple stuff, but I'm really pleased with the effect! And I think it will be a nice touch for the costume! <3

Now onto Valentino! I have the most stuff for him so far bc everything that wretched man owns is cool AF and I wanted to make, like, all of it XD

I started with the guns from 1x02 ala: "Which of these makes me look sexier ;3" since I thought they were both pretty iconic and I definitely want to film that little clip once my cosplays are ready to go hehe

(My reference Image ^)

This pink one is definitely my favorite, both in the show and based on how it came out in the end! I've only ever built one propgun before this for Jinx, so it was really fun to get back to it again! Lots of math and measurements, but luckily I'm a little racoon creature who hordes recycling like my life depends on it XD Even though he actually bedazzles another gun in the meeting room in 1x02, I was not about to make a third one in the span of two weeks, so I decided to just put it on one side of the pink, and I really love it tbh!

The gold and grey definitely looks a bit more... cardboard-y, but I'm okay with it tbh, I don't love the design of this one as much, so I probably won't be using it on it's own as often as the pink! But I still think it turned out well overall! Especially bc by the time I got to this one my exacto-blade was crapping out on me hardcore lmao

I also have two hand options ready for Valentino! I noticed that sometimes he has gold claws, and sometimes his hands are fully black, so I thought it would be good to have a couple options!

I went ahead and ordered some pleather gloves which I think work really well for him on their own, but then I also took some fake nails and layered them with gold acrylic paints and clear nail polish to make his 'actual' hands. I figured if I need a particular close-up for a shot it would be really cool to use black facepaint on my skin, and then have these nails stuck on! I just used eyelash glue to test out affixing them last night, and I think it actually worked super well!

Since the nails are pretty, well, claw-like I don't want them on all the time, but I still need them to stay when I'm moving around in costume, and I think the eyelash glue is kind of the perfect things for my at-home cosplay needs! I'd definitely want to do something stronger if I was going to a con in these, but yeah - XD I'm rambling, anyways -

Let's move onto Velvette!

I had an extra set of gold nails I'd made, that I was originally planning on attaching to the gloves (I did not like how that looked lmao) but I didn't want them to go to waste, so I used some of the little gems and do-dads that I had laying around to make them match one of the bra-tops I'm planning to use for Velvette! (Yes that sparkly orange and pink thing on the left is what I tried to match it to!)

I have a plethora of blank fake nails now, so I think it would be really fun to make a pair that matches each of Vel's outfits! I hyper-fixated on nail art for a couple years when I was a kid, so I'm really excited to play with those skillz again lmao - especially because I can use acrylic paint for these instead of nail polish which really cuts down on cost and expands my color ranges exponentially!

The last thing I have to show you for the Vee's specifically is the wigs I ordered for them! (I want to scream, I'm so excited!!!!)

(All of these are from Wig Is Fashion btw, notspon or anything I just have really loved their wigs so far! I really hope these three work well!)

Finally, my gloves for Angel and a couple of my colored lights for filming came in, so I just threw on one of the outfits I have ready for him, the wig I styled, and the gloves to get a feel for how it was coming along :3

I think I want to get different little shorts for this look (maybe pleather?) and figure out a couple other details to add in, because I feel like there is currently too much 'blank' space in the look. I'm sure that will be lessened by the makeup, set, etc. But I want to make sure the extra looks I have for characters still feel 'designed'/styled well, obvi.

Anyways! Lots of work to do, and I still need to buy a new sewing machine so i can make some of the actual outfits from the show, but it's all a process lmao

I'm planning a full-on Angel CMV atm, as well as a ton of other videos, but that's all a ways away lmao, I wanna really put effort into it which means time haha

I did already post some little Cherri, Angel, Vox and Charlie closet-costests to my TT if y'all are interested! I've also made Millie and Blitzø horns, but tbh I just can't be assed to get pictures of all of that rn XD if you look at the most recent (as of rn lmao) 'cosplay updates' vid that's up, you can see the horns, wigs etc that I didn't show in this post!

My main links are all right here if you want 'em: https://lunchtimebedamned.carrd.co/

And with that I'm going to go have brain-off time LMAO I've been working non-stop for weeks on this. I'm also sorry to anyone waiting for the Ch.4 update on The Space Between Us, this chapter is deciding to be very slow-going and difficult. IRL stuff is probably heavily contributing to that, but oh well. Know that I am working on it <3

[janetbrown711]

Make A Wish

Almost at the star

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15

Ao3 Link

The Warner siblings were doing okay.

Sure, there were a few bumps along the path here and there, Wakko almost passing out being one of them, but ever since Yakko got some food in him, he was starting to look and feel better. Not his usual self, of course (you can’t just shake off starvation like that), but better. Then again, almost anything is a better state than dying.

But still.

Nothing major had happened. They were sailing smoothly up and down the mountains, the wind and snow on their side. They were even having a little bit of fun again. It was… nice.

“So the wishing star can really give you anything you want?” Dot asked. Wakko nodded.

“That’s what Pip said,” He grinned, his tongue sticking out.

“So we’re really gonna get mom and dad back? Wow,” Dot smiled a little. “I’m done with grandma.”

“I think you speak for all of us when you say that,” Yakko laughed.

“What do you wanna do when they come back?” Dot asked her brothers.

“I think I’d give them a big hug and then we’d go back to the garden and have a big fancy picnic all day, just like the ones we used to have on mine and Daddoo’s birthday,” Wakko grinned.

“What about you Yakko?” Dot turned her head to him.

“That’s a good one…” Yakko thought for a moment. Truthfully, he had no idea. He’d been preoccupied with worries about his sibs ever since they died he hardly had the time to envision what he’d do if they came back or never died. He had to give it some thought.

“I’d hug them, obviously. Then, I’d tell them about all the good things they missed, the lessons we’ve given you, the birthdays, and other good things like that. Then, I’d just… spend time with them. We wouldn’t have to do anything- just to sit in a room and read with them in the room too would be enough for me…” Yakko thought aloud.

“Oooo, that sounds nice,” Dot smiled a little.

“What about you Dot?” Yakko asked. Dot sat and thought.

“I think I’d hug them, tell them how much I missed them, and then have mom brush my hair and sing lullabies, and Dad reads bedtime stories… maybe we’d even play dolls together,” Dot hugged herself a little, touching her hair lightly.

“It’s been so long, I-i think I might’ve forgotten…” she blinked distantly.

“It’s okay Dot- mom will be back brushing your hair and singing lullabies and Dad’ll be back with his stories before you know it,” Yakko reassured, and Dot’s face brightened.

“Yeah! They’ll be back before I know it,” She snapped out of her funk.

“How much longer do you think, Yakko?” Wakko asked.

“Probably within the hour,” He estimated.

That felt crazy to say.

“Within the hour.”

His parents were less than an hour away.

This was actually happening.

“Cool,” Wakko nodded.

“Yeah… cool,” Yakko chuckled, still reeling at the thought.

The siblings rode in silence for a moment, each processing what “within the hour” really meant, getting more and more excited the more they thought about it.

This wasn’t some far-off fantasy- the star was right there! All they had to do was reach it first, and since they hadn’t run into any other travelers it actually looked like they’d make it- it seemed luck was finally on their side for once.

“Hey Yakko- there’s someone behind us,” Wakko pulled on Yakko’s pant leg and pointed.

“I just had to jinx it, didn’t I?” Yakko thought to himself.

Yakko sighed and looked.

It was the royal carriage.

“Fire!” A voice from within the carriage ordered.

“You two- get down,” Yakko ordered as a musket was fired from the carriage. Dot and Wakko were quick to obey.

“Of course she has a gun- of course she does,” Yakko growled as he steered them away, as he heard it fire again, piercing a tree just beside them.

“Yakko- are we gonna-?”

“Everything’s gonna be okay, I got you,” Yakko assured, looking back and saw Angelina sticking her head out the window.

She looked terrible. The wind caused her usually perfect up-do to lose quite a few hairs, which were now flapping in the wind. Rage had consumed her, and her usually refined makeup created dark smudgy circles under her eyes. He made eye contact with her for a brief moment and never had he ever seen her with such hatred in her eyes.

Huh.

Yakko had always wondered what would happen if they tried to run away.

Guess that was the answer.

Yakko then put his attention back onto the path ahead, and got nervous when he realized it was about to get a little narrow, meaning he probably couldn’t weave should they aim directly for them, though he could try… Hopefully, the person firing was a better person than their grandmother, and wouldn’t aim for them, not on purpose…

“It’ll be okay,” Yakko said again, sucking in a breath of cold air as he weaved through a few trees before going onto the narrow path.

Thankfully, it appeared the person in charge of firing was either a poor shot or wasn’t aiming for them like he wanted, because no matter what, he always hit the mountainside. However, this wasn’t a good thing, because it caused the snow to shift and for rocks to fall onto the path, which Yakko feared would cause either an avalanche or rockslide- neither of which would be good.

“Is that grandma?” Wakko asked, peeping his head to look.

“I said to stay down,” Yakko ordered, and Wakko went back down.

The cannon fired again, this time sending a loud cracking sound through the mountain.

Yakko always just had to jinx it, didn’t he?

He heard the guard behind on the carriage curse, and Yakko tried to pick up the speed of the sled before anything happened- they were almost down too- After that, it was just an open field to the wishing star.

“Yakko- a-are you sure we’re gonna-”

“We’re gonna make it Dot, I promise,” Yakko really didn’t want to deal with any kind of negativity at the moment. He hadto focus.

Just as he predicted, the guard had shot into the cliff, which was now causing massive amounts of snow and rock to start plummeting down the mountain, in a weird mix of “avalanche” and “rockslide”.

“If we weren’t wishing for our parents back, I’d wish we had better luck,” Yakko muttered, trying to avoid falling rocks as the path widened once more.

“Agreed,” Wakko said, holding onto Dot.

The impending doom as it became clearer that there was no way they were going to make it off the mountain without being knocked off their feet and losing the sled or worse was not.

“Brace yourselves you two,” Yakko said, not knowing what other advice he could give. He had never survived an avalanche- what did he expect?

Eventually, Yakko held onto his siblings too, closing his eyes and bracing himself when he felt the sled get turned over and the three of them were tossed into the air.

Being in the air forced them apart on instinct, and they all fell into the snow with a sharp thud, and Yakko almost thought that was a good thing, otherwise he’d land on top of his siblings and that’s not what he wanted.

With all the strength Yakko had in him, he clawed and dug his way out of the snow, and was relieved that both of his sibs had at least gotten their hands to the top by the time he was all the way out. Quickly, Yakko got the rest of him out, and dug out his sibs, surprised to find they had already reached the plane.

“There it is… the Wishing Star,” he said as he helped Wakko stand.

“Wow…” Dot said in awe.

And “Wow” didn’t even begin to describe it. It was brilliant, it was beautiful, it was gigantic it was–

There was shouting from behind.

Yakko looked back and saw that somehow their grandmother’s stupid carriage had survived.

“C’mon, we have no time to lose,” he said, taking his sibs hands and running for it.

He was not going to lose to her. Not here, not now, not ever.

As they ran, Angelina kept yelling with the guard, and Dot kept turning her head despite Yakko’s constant attempts to get her to stop without letting go of their hands.

“Don’t look back, Dot,” He ordered. Dot didn’t listen.

“I don’t care anymore- get the smaller one!” He heard Angelina shout extra loud, and Yakko panicked and picked up the pace. Dot however, froze in her tracks, letting go of Yakko’s hand, looking back.

“Wakko! Watch out!” She screamed, jumping and shoving him down to the ground and–

An ear-piercing gunshot rang through the plane, and Dot screamed in pain, before falling to the ground.

“Dot!!!” Yakko screeched to a halt and ran back to her, while Wakko remained frozen on the ground in shock.

The snow around her was already turning red.

And Wakko’s face was speckled with it.

“Oh god- oh god oh god oh god-” was the only thing Yakko could say as he knelt onto the snow and examined his sister.

“Y-y-yakko-” She said, shuddering in pain, which only made it worse. Yakko put her head on his knees and held her hand.

He could hear arguing from behind.

“It’s gonna be okay Dot- It’s gonna be okay,” he said, tears already filling his eyes and a tight lump formed in his throat.

“I-it hurts Yakko,” she said, fear in her eyes.

Wakko broke from his frozen state to carefully crawl over. “I know Dot, b-but it’s gonna be okay,”

Yakko looked up to try to see if he could see their grandmother, but he couldn’t. Yakko realized he didn’t care- he couldn’t care. Not right now.

Dot shuddered in pain. “I-i wanna go home,” She said.

“I know Dot, we’re gonna. We’re gonna get our wish and we’re gonna go home, okay? W-we’ll pick you up and carry you if we have to,” Yakko said shakily.

“I-i’m scared,” Dot cried.

“Don’t be scared, I’m right here,” Yakko assured, giving her hand a squeeze. Dot cringed as her breathing got more unsteady. She turned her head away from her brothers.

“M-mommy? Daddy?” She asked weakly. Yakko sniffled and wiped his eyes.

“M-mom and Dad aren’t here yet Dot s-so don’t go to–”

Wakko tugged on his arm. Yakko looked up.

His parents were there, running in the snow with all their might.

“No, they… they can’t…” Yakko couldn’t say anything. The siblings were dumbstruck.

“Mommy! Daddy!!!” Dot was full on sobbing now.

“Dottie!!!” Their parents cried out in unison, picking up their pace until they reached them.

“Y-you’re… y-you can’t…” Yakko couldn’t speak. Wakko practically leapt into his mother’s arms sobbing, while William went and held Dot’s other hand.

“It’s okay, Dot. W-we’re here honey,” William said, placing a soft hand on her cheek.

“Daddy, i-it really hurts,” she cried. “Make it go away, please.”

“I-i know honey,” William said, as he slowly picked her up. Yakko just watched in awe.

“It’s gonna be okay- alright? Everything's gonna be just fine,” he spoke so softly and familiarly…

“I wanna go home. I wanna hear a story,” She grabbed her father’s shirt and pulled on it desperately.

“We’ll go home real soon, okay cutie? We’ll go home and we’ll read you a bedtime story and tuck you in, alright?” He asked. Dot nodded even though the action clearly pained her.

“That sounds good– I-i w-wanna go home,” she sobbed, closing her eyes intensely.

“I know sweetie, I wanna go home too” William hugged her closer, rubbing his face against hers.

“Y-y-yakko,” Dot turned her head weakly.

“Y-yeah? I-I’m here, Dot,” Yakko wiped his eyes, being forced back into the moment. William slowly set her back down again and Yakko held her hand once more.

“Yakko, you’ll go home too, right?” She sniffled and smiled weakly.

“O-of course. All of us- we’ll all be there, okay? We’re gonna get our wish and we’re gonna go home, okay?” Yakko asked, looking at his parents and Wakko.

“O-okay,” she smiled a little more. “We-we’re gonna go home, a-and be together– a big happy family,” she said.

“Y-yeah Dot. A big happy family,” Yakko stroked her face with his thumb, doing his best not to choke.

“Yakko I don’t wanna die,” she looked at him. “I-i’m not ready to die.”

“Th-then don’t–! Y-you can’t die– I won’t let you,” Yakko pleaded with her.

“Yakko I wanna go home,” She cried, squeezing his hand with all the weak might within her.

“It’s gonna be okay, Dot. Y-you aren’t gonna die,” William said, but it was clear the light was already fading.

“I-i’m– I’m sorry…”

Her eyes became glossed over, and she went limp.

No.

No, no, no.

William checked for a pulse.

No.

He checked for breathing.

“This is– she can’t actually– this is–”

Eventually, their father just picked her up and burst into tears.

Yakko couldn’t believe this. It wasn’t happening. It couldn’t be happening.

Dot…

Dot was dead.

.o0o.

Dot was dead.

Her baby girl was dead.

Lena hadn’t said a word- why hadn’t she said anything?!

She should’ve said something- anything, but now-

Oh god.

She hugged Wakko tighter.

She tried looking down at Dot, but she couldn’t-

God, there was so much blood.

Instead, she looked away- out towards the mountains- where she saw-

No…

She wouldn’t-

She would.

The next emotion Lena felt was rage. It consumed her, mixing in with her grief and anguish. She sprang to life, picking up William’s sword and running toward the Wishing Star, fueled by her anger and hatred.

She ignored any pain felt in her legs, focusing only on stopping Her- she couldn’t reach the star.

“Stop. Right. There,” She said, cutting off her mother from the star, pointing the sword at her mother.

“Angelina,” The queen halted, even taking a step back. “Y-you’re supposed to be dead.”

“You’d know that, wouldn’t you?” Lena glared. “Your assassins failed. William and I survived.”

“And yet, I’m still winning,” Angelina laughed wickedly.

“Not for long,” Lena pointed the sword at her mother, who laughed again.

“You don’t have the guts,” Angelina rolled her eyes.

“You’d be surprised at the amount of anger a mother can have when someone murders their child,” Lena stepped forward.

“They were aiming for that abomination of a younger son,” Angelina rolled her eyes. “It’s not my fault that girl was foolish enough to jump in the way.”

“You do not get to speak of her or Wakko that way,” Lena stepped forward, the sword now inches away from the queen. She laughed.

Angelina scoffed. “You know, I really didn’t think you’d ever be one to commit treason like this. I always thought you were smarter than throwing away your whole life just to get back at me.”

“It’s a sacrifice I’m willing to make for my children– something you’d never understand.”

“You know nothing of sacrifice–! All I ever did was sacrifice for you and you never appreciated it,” Angelina shouted.

“Ever since I was born, you’ve hated me. You’ve exploited me, tortured me, abused me, and just– you made my life a living hell! And you want to know the worst part, ‘mother’?” She put the sword down and got right in front of her.

“All of this I could’ve found within myself to forgive, but the moment you laid a hand on my children was the moment you signed your death certificate,” Lena stepped forward.

Angelina chuckled. “Your attachments make you weak, Angelina. For the kingdom’s sake I hope you think about what you’re doing and step down.”

“You know, you’ve taken everything from me,” Lena didn’t regard that comment. “I used to think there was hope for you– maybe if I was just good enough or kind or patient enough– I was foolish, a child even. But now I know you’re nothing but a selfish monster. A monster who I will never let hurt me or my family ever again.”

“Goodbye, mother.” Lena said, before stepping back and stabbing the sword through her.

Her mother smiled still.

“Give Yakko my regards, Angelina. I always did have such high hopes for him,” she laughed weakly, which Lena replied by immediately taking the sword out of her.

Her mother’s body hit the snow, and she was dead without another word.

Good Riddance.

She tossed the sword to the ground.

Blood.

Blood was everywhere.

It stained her blue dress, it stained the snow, it stained her hands, it stained her fur, it stained Dot, it stained William, it stained Wakko, it stained her soul.

She staggered away from her mother and eventually forced herself to look away as tears filled her eyes.

Her actual family needed her.

Quicklys she ran back and gave Yakko a big hug.

For the first time in forever, he accepted and cried in her arms. She stroked his head softly and soothingly as Wakko joined in the hug, before looking away and realizing the star was still there– she had stopped her mother– they could–

“We can still fix this,” Lena told everyone. Yakko sniffled, confused. Lena helped him up, Wakko too.

“William,” She said softly. Her husband looked at her, and she gestured toward the star. Understanding, he stood and picked Dot up.

Lena took in a deep breath, squeezing both of her boy’s hands before walking towards the Wishing Star. When they reached it, Wakko silently asked for her permission to touch it. Lena gave his hand a loving squeeze, and Wakko reached forward, and the star shined brighter, a burst of light shooting through the sky.

Wakko closed his eyes and made his wish.

The star’s glow increased as it expanded, sending a refreshingly warm breeze through the air until it disappeared completely, leaving only grass behind from where the star had melted the snow. Everyone held their breath.

“D-dad..? M-mom? What..?” Dot opened her eyes.

“Dot,” Lena smiled, tears of relief and joy now flowing.

Quickly, everyone wrapped Dot into a big, sobbing, and relieving group hug.

Dot was alive, Angelina was not, and everything was okay.

[anime-fan93]

Show me| Ferid X Vampire Reader

They/them for reader

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Y/n smirked as they climbed onto one of the human's laps, as she looked up at them in fear, struggling to get away. "Well, don't you look tasty," They licked their lips before grabbing them by their collar, lifting them up. "You're gonna be my toy for a bit, k? It'll only hurt for a little bit,"

She shook her head violently, but Y/n grabbed her chin, lifting it up and roughly biting into her neck, causing her to scream. They smirked, sucking even harder to get a louder scream out of her.

They continued to bite and drink from different places on her neck until they stopped moving, and Y/n frowned when they stopped feeling their pulse. "My toys are always so weak,"

"You know, I've offered to let you use me plenty of times, and you decline with such hatred," Pink darted across Y/n's face, hearing the voice behind them, but they composed themselves before turning around.

"What do you want, Lord Ferid?"

"You know what I want, Darling. You're just so stubborn and refuse to give it to me," They smirked, standing up and licking the blood off of their fangs.

"Yeah, cause you're a horny bitch who doesn't deserve to have fangs like mine piercing your skin," They crossed their arms, avoiding his lustful gaze. "You'd probably enjoy it too much anyways,"

He laughed, his voice sending shivers up their spine as he walked up to them, grabbing their chin and forcing eye contact from them. "Why don't we test it out and see?"

Y/n's eyes lidded slightly as they stared at his lips. 'So soft and plump... And his fangs are so sharp, I bet they would feel great...' They came back to their senses, weakly pushing him off of them.

"L-Like hell I'd do anything with you. I'm way too good for that," They turned around, starting to walk away, earning a smirk from Lord Ferid. 'I know what I'm doing to them. And heaven, I love it, it's only a matter of time until I break them.'

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Y/n sat on the roof of the base, sighing as they looked at the setting sun. 'It's good to have some alone time after a fight. I wonder how Mikaela's doing, he seemed out it...'

They then smirked, letting their head fall back. "What, did you sense that I was thinking about you?" They looked to the side to see Mikaela sitting next to them, one leg dangling off of the roof while the other was to his chest, his arm resting on his knee.

"Yeah."

They laughed, ruffling his hair, and making him smile softly. "Has Lord Ferid harrassed you today?"

"Not yet, thank God. This is probably the longest he's left me alone, and I'm enjoying it," Y/n smiled, shaking their head. "Yeah, he decided to pick on me for a change,"

"What has he done?"

"Don't let me get into it,"

"You can tell me, I'll be here to listen. You've always been here for me, so, of course, I'll listen," They smiled at him, to see him smiling.

It wasn't a very big smile, but the biggest they had seen from him.

"Fine. I was-"

"Well aren't you two cute?" Mikaela's smile quickly faded when he heard the voice. Y/n glared behind them, to see Ferid smirking at the two.

"I guess I jinxed it, huh? Sorry about that," Y/n mumbled, and Mikaela shook his head. "He was destined to come sooner or later."

He patted their head before standing up and starting to walk back inside. "Oh, come on, leaving already?" He grabbed his arm, and Mikaela frowned. "Can't we have some 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 time?"

Y/n's eyes widened as Mikaela shoved his arm off of him, and grabbed him by the throat, lifting him off of the ground. "You're not my family. You never will be."

"I might not be, but you've even said you see Y/n over there as a paren-" Mikaela squeezed harder on his throat, and Y/n smiled seeing his pink cheeks.

"Let him go, Mika. We'll talk another time, okay?" Mikaela hesitated before dropping him, and he landed on his feet swiftly. Mikaela glanced at Y/n before hurrying back down the stairs, causing them to sigh.

"I didn't know he felt that way... You are such a bitch, Ferid," He giggled, taking Mikaela's seat. "Awh, I hate when someone as pretty as you uses such vulgar language."

Y/n avoided his gaze as he looked over at them with the same look from before. "And I see you do care about me, enough to save me from his grasp. Even though you hide it with those harsh comments,"

"Hah! In your dreams, Ferid. Like I would ever want to save you, I'll cut your head off before Mika gets the chance to-"

Ferid grabbed Y/n by the collar, standing up and pulling them into his chest, their feet lifting off of the ground slightly. "That's Lord Ferid to you, Darling,"

They looked up at him with a fearful expression, but when they saw him glaring at them, a blush spread across their face. "...y-yes, Lord Ferid," they muttered.

He then laughed, dropping them as they stumbled back. "Oh, are you afraid of me, Darling? What happened to that big attitude? Was that all an act?" Y/n struggled to speak, focusing on their legs instead of looking at them.

'Stupid legs, stupid legs, stop shaking, he's gonna notice!!!' They crossed their arms, looking back at the sun that was almost completely set. "Shut up. You're so d-damn annoying, gosh. I'm going to bed,"

They walked away from him and once they turned to go down the stairs, they felt hands on their waist. "Your body is heating up, Darling. You don't hate me at all, do you?"

He leaned towards their neck, smirking. "You want me, don't you?" He opened his mouth, gently biting down on their neck, just enough to draw blood, causing them to gasp.

Their strength started to fade as their knees buckled, but he held them up. "I know you want me. Just say the words, and I'm yours. I'm sick and tired of this little act,"

Y/n tried to keep their mouth shut, but his tongue slowly trailing across their neck, was doing just what Ferid wanted.

"I... I-I..."

He groaned, taking one hand off of their waist and forcing it between their thighs, pushing them onto him. "Say it."

Y/n closed their eyes, letting their head fall back as he ground their hips against him. "I want you... I want you, Lord Ferid, I've always wanted you... Just d-do it already, stop fucking around-"

He bit into their neck, causing them to cry out, and he shut his eyes, wanting to hear that sound even more. He started to drink their blood as he slid his hand into their pants and started to rub them roughly, making them let out a strangled gasp.

"L-Lord Ferid- ah!" He smirked against their skin while grinding his hips harder, holding back soft moans. "You know this is what you wanted, you know you've wanted my touch, and for me to taste you in different ways. We could've done this so much sooner if you hadn't been so stubborn,"

"I-I'm sorry, Lord Ferid, I'm s-ah!"

"Now look at you, you're a babbling mess. You're so weak, Darling, I thought you would be stronger, but turns out you were all talk," They tried to make a remark, but he wrapped his other hand around their throat, only making them weaker.

He pulled his hand out, making them frown. "Why did you stop, you d-dumbass? You're finally getting what you wanted and you stop just like tha-ah!"

He pulled their pants and underwear down to their knees, making their face go red, as they heard a buckle, and realized he was taking off his belt.

"N-Not right here, Lord Ferid, are you crazy!?" He smirked up at them, making them whimper softly. "Like you would be able to wait even a second longer," He slammed into them, making them moan loudly. "Darling,"

He didn't wait, not for a second, he started thrusting in and out of them, and Y/n gave up on trying to hide their moans.

"How does that feel, hm? Is this what you've wanted, Love?" He asked, continuing to pound into them. They nodded weakly, their thoughts full of nothing but him. "S-So... big..."

He chuckled as he thrusted deeper, watching their facial expressions while moaning softly.

The knot started to form in their stomach, making their breathing heavier. "Oh, is my Darling gonna cum? I've barely fucked you, and I'm nowhere near ready yet. Do I affect you that much, Darling?"

"Y-Yes, Lord Ferid- ah! I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna c-"

"I did not give you permission. You won't cum until I tell you to, understood?" They nodded, and he smirked, starting to rub them while slamming into them.

They balled their fists, trying hard to keep all of it in, and seeing them in that state was sending him to the edge, wanting to tease them more, but knowing he wouldn't last.

"Darling, I'm getting close, too. Are you gonna be good and cum with me?" They nodded quickly, making him smirk as he pulled his fangs out, and turned their head to where he could kiss them.

He moaned softly, feeling himself letting go. "Cum, Darling," He growled, and before he finished his sentence, Y/n was already gushing all over his fingers, while Ferid came inside of them, throwing his head back and letting out a loud moan.

"L-Lord Ferid..." Y/n breathed out, as he slowly pulled out of them, putting his pants back on, and helping Y/n put on theirs. "Are you happy? Now that you finally got what you wanted? Horny bitch,"

"No need to start that act again," He smiled gently as them, picking them up. "That was only round one. You're crazy if you think I'd stop there,"

[i-cant-sing]

Yandere RE8: TRP Part 4

Part 1 is here.

Part 2 is here.

Part 3 is here.

Part 5 is here.

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

"Uhh... hello?"

You looked at the woman standing in the stairs. She was wearing a dark veil that matched the rest of her outfit- oh shit, that's a funeral outfit.

I really did pick a bad time to come here, didn't I? She's in mourning, she sees an intruder, and her day went from bad to worst. Yep, she's gonna kill me.

You took one look at the woman and then at all the possible exits: the doors- no, they'd be too heavy to move and what if they're locked? The window- but I'd have to jump out and just because it looks cool in movies to jump through glass, doesn't mean it'll work, Y/n.

So, the only option was to eliminate the threat. Or maybe... defuse it.

"This is your doll, right?" You asked, pointing at the doll, judging by the lace designs on both of their dresses. The woman didn't reply. "It looks like its been... used a lot. To be honest, she's very different than most dolls I've seen, definitely a lot more spookier." You nervously giggled, hoping she didn't mind. "But... she looks like she's been loved. A lot. Despite being broken from a lot of places, someone still took their time to fix her." You smiled sadly, remembering your own doll that Mia had ripped. "Wish I had someone like that. To sew up the wounds and fix them."You mumbled, not really sure if you were talking about your doll or yourself.

"Your doll, she's- she's very pretty. My sister would've liked her." You began. "Which is why I'm here. My family, we were in an accident- I know it was wrong of me to come here without permission, but I need to find my sister, Rose and my father, Ethan." You took a step closer. "They both of have blonde hair. Rose, my sister, she's just 6 months old. She was dressed in a baby pink onesie, bundled up in a blanket. My father, Ethan, he's about this tall and has big blue eyes. I think he was wearing a jacket, with blue denim jeans. H-have you seen them?" You asked, eyes full of hope and voice laced with eagerness.

Please, please let her have seen them. God, please.

Unsurprisingly, the woman didn't reply, but she did turn her head towards the left window. You didn't know whether she was telling you to get out of her house or signalling that they are out there, but you knew you had to leave.

Nodding, you slowly walked towards the window, your heart beating faster as you prayed that this wasn't some sort of trap, hoping she wouldn't attack you from behind because that would be like... really shitty.

But you left the house unharmed, and without looking back at the window because you didn't want to jinx it, you walked towards the forrest once again, thankful that the sun had finally came out.

Where are you guys?

You had been walking for a couple of hours now, the sun had been a bit warmer today, which was good since you hated the snow that surrounded you now. You looked at the map, tracing the path to your new destination. The Salvatore reservoir. It seemed like it would take you a day's journey to get there, and you sure as hell weren't seeing any lake in sight.

God, when will this nightmare end?

You decided to sit on a stone and take some much needed rest. Your feet ached from all the walking, and your calves were cramping. You rolled your head, popping it from the side, before taking off the rifle that had been weighing down, stretching out your arms. Digging through the little back pack you bought from Duke, you pulled out a thermos of coffee and twinkie. You don't know how or where he got it, but Duke had filled your bag with a couple of snacks; saying its for his loyal customer.

So, here you sat, in the middle of the snowy woods, eating a twinkie and drinking a lukewarm coffee. Both didn't taste good, but they're gonna keep you alive so, no complaining.

After drinking the coffee, you rested your head against a tree, recalling last nights events as you waited for the caffeine to kick in.

You tried to make sense of what happened when you got... locked in the basement. You thought you had forgotten about her, Angel. Guess not.

Wait- didn't that lady lock me in the basement? Maybe, she didn't look very hostile, her creepy doll looked scarier than she did.

You laughed at the irony. You always made fun of the horror movies where the family would become so attached to the most horrifying doll, and you'd scream at their stupidity, And yet here you were, falling for the cliche as you found comfort in that creepy doll.

Man, I'm really losing it here.

You sighed, closing your eyes as you tried to come up with the next plan. But the warm coffee had lulled you right to sleep, which was dangerous but you were too tired to care.

Just for a couple of minutes...

You woke up to the sound of growling and heavy steps. And as soon as you opened your eyes, you knew you had definitely slept for far longer than a few minutes. But that was not of concern at the moment. No, it was the source of the growling that had woken you up.

Just about 40 feet away from you were lycans. Plural. Not one, not two, but 5 lycans, and one of them was a really big one.

You held your breath as you watched them wander around; they hadn't spotted you yet, and if you stayed quiet, you hoped they would just go away.

Stilling yourself as much as you could, you watched them with wide eyes. One of them started to walk in your direction, it wasn't looking at you, which meant that it hadn't seen you, but he would if he kept on walking this way.

God, I know we haven't been on good terms, but like c'mon, you gotta give me a break. Please, I love you? Come on, you know this is not how I want to go.

You sent a silent prayer, and perhaps it worked, since the lycan suddenly turned the other way, joining its pack as they started walking deeper into the woods.

Slowly, you began to gather up your things, silently shoving them in your bag, one eye on the lycans and the other one making sure that you don't accidentally drop something that'd cause noise.

Fortunately, you didn't. You swung the bag over your shoulder, and took a step forward, careful not to step on any twigs.

Maybe God did love me. All that time in church-

THWACK!

You jumped back as a huge sheet of snow fell from the trees in front of you. You whipped your head towards the monsters and they all had stopped dead in their tracks. Slowly, one of them turned and if they hadn't heard the snow fall, they'd definitely heard the way your heart was about to burst out of your chest. Then, it growled.

Motherfucker.

You pulled out your gun just as the two of them began running your way. With a quick jump to the side, you dodged them and shot them two times each. Hearing your gun fire, the other two began running your way too, while the larger one stayed behind as it watched. This time, as you shot one of them, the other managed to kick you in the chest hard, throwing you against the rock. Luckily, you didn't hit your head, as you rolled and shot it dead.

Spitting out the blood, you looked back at the last lycan who had already started running your way. You began loading up your gun with trembling hands, but just as you aimed, the lycan took a giant leap and knocked the gun out of your hand.

Fuck.

The giant grabbed you by your neck, lifting you up high before throwing you across the ground. You wheezed, scrambling up to your feet as you began running away from it, its heavy steps following you. It roared angrily behind you, and that only made you ignore the burning pain in your chest as you ran faster.

But of course, God had decided to make you live a cliche horror movie, because you tripped over a fucking branch, making you fall on your stomach. You flipped over instantly, and saw your nightmare come true as the lycan jumped on you.

On pure reflex, you punched it square in the face, which you doubted hurt it more than it hurt you, if anything, the monster was momentarily perplexed, but that was enough for you to slip from under it.

But you were only able to take a few steps away when it suddenly grabbed you by your neck and lifted you up again, snarling as it began opening its mouth, revealing its razor-sharp teeth at you.

God, if you're hearing this, I'm converting to atheism because I did not need this today.

Looking at the horrifying lycan, you prayed one last time before you were eaten by it. Surprisingly, your life did not flash before your eyes, which you were kinda grateful for because you did not need to relive that before your death.

But that moment didn't came. No, what came were familiar moans of pain, and then the sound of a drill, followed by blood splattering on your face as the lycan was sliced vertically from the head to the toe by the aforementioned drill.

The lycan fell to the ground, revealing the pair of soldats that killed them and behind them a smirking Heisenberg, who rested against a tree, tipping his hat at you.

You were far too shocked to say anything, and after a few seconds, the man walked over to you, blocking the view of his monstrous creations just mutilating the lycans.

"So... that was a bit traumatising." He started, chuckling at your stunned face. "You okay, kid?"

What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck. What the fuck-

"Yeah." You took his hand, and he helped you up. You groaned at the pain, touching the tender side around the chest where the lycan had hit you. Yeah, you probably broke a rib.

Heisenberg helped you sit down on a tree stump. "Hmm, that bastard kicked you hard didn't it." Wait- "But that was a phenomenal punch you threw at it. Nearly made me burst out laughing."

"You were watching? Why the fuck didn't you come in before!"

He shrugged. "I just wanted to see if you could really handle yourself- which you were pretty good at, but then you lost your gun and it was kinda an unfair match from there on." He pulled out some pills from his coat. "i was just passing by when I saw those lycans moving away. Thats when I pushed the tree which made snow sheet fall and you know the rest from there on."

Your eyes went wide. "You did that on purpose? What the shit, Heisenberg-?! Fuck." You doubled over in pain, clutching your ribs, heaving.

"Shh, stay still, kid. Here, take these. They'll help with the pain." You eyed the bottle before popping two in your mouth. Hey, if he wanted me dead, he wouldn't have saved me from the lycan. "I just wanted to see if you were worth the trouble, and as it turns out, you are."

"You didn't have to almost kill me to see that. And now I've lost my gun. And I don't have any money to buy a new one. I doubt Duke gives freebies." You huffed out.

Heisenberg rolled his eyes. "God, you sure do whine a lot. Here-" He dropped a tiny pouch in your lap. "There's some coins in there. That should be enough to buy you a new gun. And for fucks sake, get a gun with more rounds! You don't have time to be loading a gun mid battle." He huffed. "So, where are you going now?"

You rolled your head from side to side. "Well, I went to the Beneviento house. Didn't find Ethan or Rose there. Now, I'm going to the lake."

"The lake? Huh, well if you survived Donna, then Moreau should be a piece of cake. You got the map? Let me show you the short cut, it's not far from here." You gave him the map and he showed you the directions.

"Where are you going then?"

"Mother Miranda called. Don't worry, I'll keep our meeting a secret." He then nodded at you. "Alright, I'm off now."

"Wait!" Your voice stopped him. "I don't know when I'll see Duke again. And I don't have gun, so what if another pack of lycans come?"

Heisenberg slumped his shoulders as he let out an annoyed sigh. "Fine. I gotta do everything by myself." He dog whistled and one of the soldats stopped maiming the lycan and ran to Heisenberg. "From now on, you're gonna listen to her."The soldat looked at you and nodded. "If she tells you to kill, you kill. If she tells you to die, you die. Follow her around and keep her safe." The soldat nodded. Then Heisenberg turned to you. "He's already dead, so don't worry about throwing him in danger. Oh and also, just take him into the sun every once in a while so that his engine can recharge. You'll know when he needs the sun."

You were baffled. "Wait, Heisenberg- how the- what the hell am I supposed to do with him?"

"Figure it out, kid. Think of him as a guard dog."

You looked at the soldat then at Heisenberg's retreating form, then back at the soldat.

"So..." The soldat stared at you. "You got a name?"

"Handsome." You nodded to yourself as you trudged, using the soldat's arm to support yourself. "That's what I'm gonna call you. Handsome. What do you think?"

The soldat was wearing a metal contraption over its eyes, so you couldn't really tell what it was feeling.

"Well, you don't seem to have any complaints, so from now on, you'll respond to the name "Handsome". Do you understand?"

The soldat nodded.

You laughed. God, the pain meds were either making me stupid or everything else funnier.

You looked at the map again. Just a couple of more minutes and then a right turn. And then you should see the lake- god, this map was confusing as hell.

"So..." you wondered what you should ask the cyborg. Oh right. "You seen Ethan? Blonde man, crazy big eyes. Or a baby, Rose?" The man shook his head no.

Sigh. What else could I ask him? What about how did he die? No, what if that's triggering? I can't handle a Terminator right now. And I don't think I should ask him about his past or anything that'll cause him to have a existential crisis. Ah! I've got it!

"Hey, how do you see?"

The soldat looks down at you for a few seconds then points at his metal contraption.

Wait- is that sarcasm?

You scoff. "Of course, you see with your eyes! I meant, with the whole metal thingy covering them, how do you- oh, there's this vision specs in them."

You smiled. "Hey, you're kinda like Cyclops, yknow-" you were cut off as Handsome suddenly pushed you to the ground, turning on his drill.

"Wait, shit- you don't have to be Cyclops! We can talk this out-" but Handsome was focusing on something else, and that's when you saw it. Two lycans.

Handsome ran and easily maimed them to pieces, I mean, you had to look away from the horrific scene midway.

The soldat returned five minutes later, covered in blood. He extended his hand and you reluctantly took it, letting him support you as you began walking again, your heart still beating like crazy.

But you calmed down when you finally reached the lake, the setting sun gave serene feel to the entire reservoir. You inhaled deeply before looking at Handsome. "Lets go down there." You pointed at the lake.

You were both sitting at the wooden broadwalk, your legs hanging off the ledge. You looked at the water, it wasn't crystal clear, but you could see some fishes swimming around, so at least it wasn't dangerous to life. You looked at Handsome, then at his drill and you realised he was still covered in blood. "Lets get you cleaned up, hm?" You said, pulling out a rag from your bag and dipping it in the cold water below. You began with cleaning up his drill, then dipping the rag back in cold water and cleaning his chest and his other arm.

"Good job back there, Handsome."You smiled as Handsome nodded. "Heisenberg was right, you are kinda like a dog. Hmm, I wonder if..." You tested your theory as you petted him on the head. "Good job, Handsome!" But the soldat only tilted its head in confusion.

"Hmm, perhaps not." You cupped the cold water in your hands and washed your own face, You looked at your reflection in the water. "You wanna go for a swim? I don't mind." Handsome shook his head. "Yeah, I'm not a fan of swimming either."

Handsome stared at you. You scoffed. "Oh so you pretend you don't understand what I say, but you want to hear the story? Fine, but I'm only telling you because it might be important later."

You both stared at the water as you began your story. "Well, when I was 15, I had snuck out of the house to go to a party. It was at this rich girl's house and I knew she didn't like me, but I was surprised when she had invited me to her place. Yes, a red flag I should've seen from miles ago, but I was young and dumb and desperate to climb the highschool social hierarchy." You chuckled. "Anyways, long story short, one of the guys there pushed me into the pool because I don't know if they thought it was funny to see me drown? By some luck, I managed to grab onto the pool ledge and pull myself up. I immediately left the party, embarrassed and cold and on the verge of breaking down. Then on the way back home, there was this car following me and then some weirdo catcalled me and tried to get me in his car. Now, scared for my life because I watched a lot of Criminal Minds, I ran all the way home, praying that he leaves me alone. I think he stopped when he saw a Range Rover following him, but I don't know. I just rushed back home." You sighed. "You know what happened next? I bursted through the front door, slamming it shut and I turn around to see my dad in the living room, looking surprised to see me. He stood up and looked me up and down and then said, "Y/n? You're drenched completely. And you're messing up the floor. You know what? Mia's in the bathroom right now, why don't you go upstairs and I'll clean up here. You know how she gets when there's water on the wood." And I was just so shocked, that I didn't say anything and went back upstairs. Once I was in the shower, that's when I broke down crying. I almost drowned, almost got kidnapped and my father was worried about me messing up the wooden floor? Hell, he didn't even ask me why I was coming home at midnight." Your tears fell into the lake, making small ripples. You chuckled, "God, I always wondered how tired he must've been from work that day to ignore all these visible signs of distress. I always hated his job, you know? They made him work way too much." You looked at Handsome who was looking at the lake. "Anywho, now you know I can't swim so, save me if I fall into this lake, okay?" He nodded.

You guys sat in comfortable silence for a few more minutes before a question popped up in your mind. "Handsome?" He turned his head towards you, only to see a mischievous smile on your face. "Are you seeing someone?" The man turned his back to the lake, making you laugh. "Ahh, so you like someone. Tell me, is it someone from the village?" The man further turned his head away from you in embarrassment. "Oh come on, tell me! Is it a girl?" He nodded reluctantly, making you punch his arm. "You dog! Does she know?" Handsome shook his head, making you smile. "Tell you what? As a payback for saving me back there, I'll help you get her. I'll be your wingman, Handsome, hm?" He nodded a bit enthusiastically.

"We all deserve good things, Handsome. No matter how we look, or what we are, these things don't really define one's self worth. Its our intentions, you know?" Handsome didn't know, but he nodded anyways.

"Good. Now, lets go check out this place. Keep an eye out for Ethan and Rose, okay?" You told him, not knowing someone was already watching the two of you.

So... thought?

What did you guys think about Handsome? I'm gonna post a pic of him soon if you guys want.

Part 5 is here.

[watchmegetobsessed]

BLACK&WHITE (part 5)

A/N: i didn't even plan to line up the halloween themed part to happen this weekend lol but it worked out nicely! we are already on part 5, wow, i think the story might end with part 7, im not sure tho bc i just started writing that, we'll see! can't wait to read your thoughts on this part tho!

PAIRING: long hair college!Harry X Mitch’s little sister!Reader

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

SERIES MASTERLIST

“I’m not entirely sure I can pull this outfit off,” you call out from Ruth’s bathroom as you’re putting on your costume. It’s October 31st, Halloween, aka the perfect occasion for college students to get drunk dressed in silly or sexy costumes. Delta Psi is throwing a crazy horror night party just like every year, Mitch has told you a lot about these parties and this year you’re finally attending it.

Sarah is picking the three of you up, driving you to the house so you decided to get ready together at Ruth’s tiny apartment, but it’s still better than in the dorm where you have to share the bathroom with at least fifteen other people. Bonnie helped you put your costume together, you’re going as Cruella De Vil, or like a sexy version of her. Your hair has been temporarily died to half black and half white and now you’re in the bathroom, changing into your costume for the first time. You haven’t really had the chance to put it on all together, so this is the big reveal.

“Just come out already! We want to see you!” Bonnie shouts back to you just when you finish changing.

“Okay, ready?” you sigh in excitement.

“Yes! Woo!” they cheer together and throwing the door open you walk out, your two friends gasping at the sight of you.

You really did take it to the sexy direction with the costume. The black top is basically a corset, pushing up your boobs just right. You paired it with a leather mini skirt and a pair of thigh-high red boots and a red faux fur coat Ruth lent you. You didn’t dare to question why she owns clothes like these, just accepted that you didn’t have to spend money on them. You actually feel hot in your outfit, definitely gonna earn some curious stares at the party.

“That’s what I’m talking about! You look amazing!” Bonnie nods at you grinning and you just strike a pose blushing slightly.

They change into their costumes as well, Bonnie dresses as Sabrina only that her dress is a lot shorter than the original character’s, and Ruth is coming as Pitbull. Yeah, she definitely took it to the funnier side with her bald cap and oversized black suit, but you think it’s hilarious.

You finish getting ready just in time, Sarah texts you that she is downstairs so you all head down.

“Wow! What a trio!” she cheers when you get into the car. She is rocking her Wanda costume, this year her and Mitch are going for the Marvel vibe, your brother will be dressed as Loki since he didn’t want to paint his whole head to be Vision.

“Thanks, you look great too!” you smile at her.

“You look extra spicy, Y/N. Gonna have guys all over you,” she chuckles, starting the car. You don’t comment on that, just bite into your bottom lip buckling yourself up.

The closer you’re getting to the frat house, the more anxious you’re growing. You’re not entirely sure how tonight will turn out and you’re afraid something might go wrong, but you’re trying not to jinx it.

The house is already packed by the time you arrive. Everywhere you look you see movie characters, iconic people from history or just lazy costumes like the guy who has a shirt on with the word ‘costume’ written on it. Bonnie takes your hand as the three of you walk further into the house, Sarah already disappearing in the crowd. You head to the kitchen to grab a drink, saying hi to the few people you know on the way.

This past month you’ve finally made a few more friends, thanks to becoming good friends with Bonnie and Ruth. They’ve been dragging you along with them to different social events and you also built up the courage to befriend a few people from your classes to at least have someone to ask for notes for when you miss class. You don’t feel like an outsider anymore and actually have friends you can make plans with.

As expected, you’ve noticed quite a few boys mistaking your boobs to your face. Your costume is definitely approved by the other students and you feel confident in it, enjoying the attention you’re getting.

“Jesus, you’re basically naked, Y/N,” Mitch snaps at you when he shows up, joining your little circle. His hair is styled completely like Loki’s and he bought a cheap Loki costume off of Amazon probably, looking like the Wish version of the god of mischief. Luckily, he wasn’t loud enough with his comment for others to hear him, only you.

“Would you chill? I’m definitely wearing more clothes than those girls,” you tell him, nodding towards three girls dressed as sexy nurses, but they are basically in red lingerie with white coats over it, but completely unbuttoned, of course. Mitch grimaces seeing them before turning back to you.

“Just… don’t take the coat off,” he mumbles under his breath, but you just chuckle shaking your head as you take a sip from your drink. “I gotta go, have to check up on Harry if he is still whining about his costume.”

He pats your shoulder before walking off, not even noticing how you just froze over the mentioning of Harry. You look around, searching for his face you know all too well, but see no trace of him, though you expect to run into him at some point tonight, since it’s their house and Harry is popular among these people, the boys won’t let him sit in his room like that night you met him for the first time at the beginning of the semester. So much has happened since then…

“Holy shit, Y/N!” Dominick gasps upon seeing you, his eyes shamelessly wandering up and down your body when he sees you. He’s never failed to flirt with you whenever you ran into each other since you’ve been introduced to him that night you took Bonnie and Ruth with you to a frat party with you. It’s flattering, how he always tries to chat you up, but it’s always the same. He flirts with you, you smile and nod and he gives up for the time being, picking up some sorority girl, trying again next time he sees you.

Seems like tonight is no different.

“And what are you supposed to be?” you ask him, trying to figure out his costume with not much luck. He is wearing a simple white shirt with black pants and a pair of fake glasses.

“Oh, I’m Superman,” he grins, opening the shirt on his chest, revealing a Superman shirt underneath.

“Mhm, creative,” you huff and with that you’re already over talking to him.

Unfortunately he thinks otherwise. Seems like Dominick chose tonight to get on your nerves more than he usually does. He keeps circling around you, always somewhere near you, his attempts to chat you up failing terribly, especially since you have to keep reminding him not to stare at your boobs when he is talking to you.

“You can’t expect me not to look at them,” he just chuckles, as if it was such a good joke, but you’re starting to lose patience.

“At least try, Dominick,” you grimaced at him, but he didn’t take the hint that you want nothing to do with him anymore. As you make your way upstairs to find a bathroom, he comes right after you.

“So when are you going out with me, huh?” he smirks at you confidently, but his charm doesn’t work on you.

“How about never?” you scoff.

“Come on, you wouldn’t regret it!” He grabs your hand and stops you from walking away, making you turn to face him, but you’re not a fan of getting his hands on you. Yanking yourself out of his hold you shoot him a hard glare.

“Knock it off, will you?”

“Don’t be like this, I just—“

“You heard her, Dominick. Go and find one of your booty calls and leave her alone.”

Hearing the all too familiar voice you freeze, but don’t look behind, already knowing who’s standing there. You can feel the heat of his body, so he must be very close to you as he stares at Dominick. He doesn’t look flirty and playful anymore. His jaw clenches as he lets out a huff, but doesn’t reply, just turns around and walks away.

Slowly, you turn to face Harry and you can’t help a little smile when you see that he is dressed as Waldo in a red and white striped shirt and red beanie. His reaction to your costume on the other hand is not as delightful as yours. You catch his eyes wander down the length of your body, the heat rising inside you the longer he is just standing there, staring at you.

Then he lifts his head, looks around as if he is checking if anyone is paying attention to the two of you and when he sees that the air is clear, he grabs your hand and simply pulls you into his room, shutting the door closed, hiding you from all the curious stares out there. You’re breathing heavily as you stand in the middle of his room while he is still at the door, not a single word has been spoken between the two of you. His gaze runs down your body again, the corset and miniskirt clearly catching his attention. His eyes return to yours and your breath gets caught in your throat. The next thing you know is that he leaps through the room and kisses you so hard, the air gets knocked out of your lungs as your body smashes against his.

You kiss him back with just as much vigor, pulling his beanie off, throwing it to the side so you can lace your fingers through his hair, tugging it just as much as he likes while his arms wrap around you so tight you’re having trouble breathing, but you’re praying he won’t let go of you.

“You really had the nerve to come here in this outfit, huh?” he mumbles against your mouth, tugging the red fur coat off of you, exposing your risqué outfit you’re wearing underneath.

“You have any complaints about it?” you challenge, a moan slipping through your lips when he kisses down your throat, heading to the swell of your breasts.

“Just one,” he mumbles against your heated skin. “I don’t like it when other guys are ogling my girlfriend.”

Yup, girlfriend. That’s right. You still can’t push your smirk down hearing it from him even though you’ve been holding the title for about a month now.

The turning point was that night when you called him out for ruining your date sneakily. He admitted to having feelings for you, you kissed him and then he made you ride his thigh in an alley way until you came. Then he took a total one hundred eighty, wanted to pretend like it didn’t happen right until you told him, no, begged him not to push you away. You really thought he wouldn’t listen but then... some kind of miracle happened.

He gave it a chance. Gave you a chance and you’ve been on cloud nine since then. Well, kind of. Because being with Harry came with a few challenges, the biggest one is that you basically can’t be seen together.

After the heat of the moment in the car and once you stopped making out like the world was about to end, you realized there was a lot to discuss and you both agreed that it’s better to keep it a secret for a while. At least until you figure out how to tell Mitch without giving him a heart-attack.

“So you don’t approve of my costume?” you question him, arching an eyebrow playfully as he kisses up your throat to meet your lips again.

“I do. You look gorgeous. I just wish I could show everyone that you’re mine,” he hums against your lips, kissing you a little slower this time, his fingers dancing along your sides. Cupping his face in your hands you pout at him, knowing the feeling well. Harry is not the only jealous one in this relationship, even though you trust him fully, it still does not mean that girls won’t try to get into his pants shamelessly. You’ve seen quite a few girls flirting with him when you were around and you couldn’t walk up to him and kiss him, showing everyone that he belongs to you.

His kiss grows hungrier and you fist his shirt at his chest, pulling him close to you, wanting nothing else than to take it a few steps further, but you both know this is not the time and place for that. In fact, it never is. Being in a secret relationship is definitely harder than you thought, especially since Harry lives with your brother and a bunch of other guys and you share a room with Bonnie. There’s basically no privacy for you, so you’ve been forced to put your desires aside, though it’s getting hard… along with something else in Harry’s pants every time you get handsy.

Slowly but surely he stops himself, not letting this get out of hands and way too hard to contain yourselves. You whine a little when he pulls back, but you know it’s for the best. You will not be the couple who gets caught having sex in the middle of a party.

“Please say the corset is yours and you’ll put it on for me when we can be alone finally?”

Chuckling you brush his hair out of his forehead before pecking his lips softly, his hands slipping down to your butt, giving it a playful squeeze. Harry loves physical touch, that you’ve learned already, so it’s kind of a torture for him that he can’t get his hands on you whenever he wants. But when you have a few minutes for yourselves, he makes sure to make up for all the time he had to miss out on.

“It’s mine,” you grin at him, biting into your bottom lip. “I hope I won’t forget to have it with me. God knows when our time will finally come,” you sigh with a pout.

“Actually, there was something I wanted to ask you about.” God, that boyish smirk! You just want to kiss him stupid all the time.

“Alright, what is it?”

“What are you doing next weekend?”

“Other than studying? Probably not much,” you chuckle. “Why?”

“I was thinking that we could go on a little trip. Just the two of us. My uncle has a cabin not far up in the woods, it’s pretty secluded, no chance we would run into anyone we know. We could go on a hike, make a campfire, anything you want.”

The idea to spend a weekend away from everything and everyone sounds like heaven. You’re kind of done with the hiding, the secret rendezvous, having to drive across town if you wanted to have a dinner date without worrying that you’ll get caught.

“That’s… I would love that,” you breathe out, pulling him down to kiss you sweetly.

“Okay, then it’s settled?” he grins against your lips.

“Yeah. I just have to make up a lie where I’m spending the weekend,” you chuckle.

“We’ll figure it out,” he hums and you know he is right. Nothing is too hard or impossible if you’re with Harry.

Stealing a few more minutes alone with him, you force yourself to go out again, though Harry is having a hard time to let go of you, he keeps pulling you back, kissing you whenever you’re about to leave.

“Harry, we’ve been in here for way too long,” you chuckle, though don’t really try to push him away as he kisses down your neck.

“Not my fault that you look this good,” he hums.

“Alright, done, we need to go out,” you chuckle, finally stepping out of his embrace. He pouts at you like a baby, but you’re not letting him guilt you into staying any longer. “Let’s socialize a bit more. I’ll text you when we are about to leave, we can meet for a bit then, okay?”

“Okay,” he breathes out, pecking your lips one last time, patting your bum as he pushes you towards the door. Shooting him one last wink you walk out of the room, making sure no one sees you.

For the rest of the party you stick to staying with your friends. You drink, dance, mingle in the crowd, having a blast. You even find two girls dressed as Dalmatians so you take a cool photo for your Instagram with them, it’s truly iconic. Once Mitch gets over your revealing outfit he stops bitching about it and plays a round of beerpong with you against Sarah and one of her friends. Of course, the Rowlands always win, everyone around the table cheers when you make the ball drop into the last cup, winning the game.

You see Harry around several times, locking eyes in the crowd, stealing tiny touches when you pass by each other and he keeps texting you throughout the night, telling you how good you look, how much he wants to show you off and that he can’t wait for next weekend to have you all to himself. He knows how to rile you up, sending a few spicier texts as well that makes you want to drag him up to his room and just take him right then and there. But you keep your distance, telling yourself you’ll have all the time in the world in just a week, away from everyone else.

It’s way past midnight when Harry steps out to the backyard, looking for a secluded spot to have a breather. These parties are growing more and more tiring, especially when he can’t spend them with the person he wants to. He knows he would enjoy the evening more if he could just stay with you, be like a real couple, hold your hand or kiss you whenever he wants to. But he knows he has to be patient so he is left to enjoy the tiny stolen moments.

“Hello, stranger.”

He can’t stop himself from rolling his eyes at the familiar voice. Turning to his left he sees Georgie walking towards him with a seductive smile, one that would have worked on him maybe a year ago, but all he feels from seeing it is disgust and frustration.

“What are you doing here alone?” she asks, stopping way too close to Harry’s liking, so he takes a step backwards. Georgie doesn’t miss it, but chooses to ignore it.

“Just getting some fresh air,” he answers rigidly.

“I wanted to have a few words with you, but couldn’t find you all night.”

“You found me now.” He forces a smile to his face, but it’s evidently not real.

“Sorry about last time, H. I shouldn’t have just went into your room, it’s your private place.”

Harry can’t mask his surprise over the apology, he was definitely not expecting one from her, especially after how upset she was when he last saw her.

“It’s…it’s fine,” he breathes out with a tiny nod. There’s a heartbeat of silence and then the downfall starts.

“H, I miss you.” “Stop it,” Harry answers right away.

“Do you not miss me?” she whines, stepping closer again, but Harry backs away again.

“I think I made it clear last time, Georgie, that I don’t want anything from you anymore.”

“Things were said in the heat of the moment. I thought that we could talk it over again and—“

“There’s nothing to talk over. Don’t make it harder for yourself.”

Clearly, it’s not what she was expecting. Harry’s reaction to her attempt to make up is far from the version she imagined would happen and it doesn’t sit right with her.

“What the fuck happened to you, Harry?” she snaps, quickly dropping the sweet act. “What game are you playing, huh?”

“It’s not a game, how do you not understand it?” Now Harry is losing his patience with her. He doesn’t understand why she wouldn’t just move on, find another guy she can throw herself on. He made it clear that he doesn’t want to continue whatever they had going on, why can’t she just accept it?

“Come on, everything is just a game to you. This is who you are, this is The Harry Styles,” she cackles, hands on her hips.

“Or maybe you have no idea who I am. Stop assuming because we fucked a few times, that you know me. Because quite frankly, you don’t.”

“Okay, I don’t know you, whatever. But why can’t we just fuck? I don’t have to know your favorite color to suck your dick, do I?” she scoffs.

“Georgie, I’m seeing someone, okay? Stop being so desperate and save the drama for someone else.”

“What?” she blinks at him surprised.

“I’m dating someone, I have a girlfriend, but even if I didn’t, I wouldn’t want to sleep with you, because I’m done with you.”

He didn’t want to drag it this long. Never really understood how someone can’t just accept when the other wants it to be over, the begging and arguing can’t change anything.

“A girlfriend?” she questions, eyebrows shooting up. “And who is this girlfriend of yours?”

“None of your business. So leave me the fuck alone, I’m not having this conversation again, understood?”

Georgie doesn’t answer, just nods clenching her jaw. Harry pays her one last glance before walking away, back to the crowd. He would rather suffocate in there than keep talking to her a second longer.

Another hour passes when you’re starting to get tired and luckily Bonnie feels the same way. Neither of you wants to wait until the party dies down. Finishing your last drink you agree to call an Uber soon and head back to the dormitory.

You text Harry to meet you in his room and you tell Bonnie that you left your lipstick in Mitch’s room so you’re gonna run upstairs to get it before leaving and she doesn’t even question you. Harry is already in his room when you walk in, quickly closing the door behind you, wrapping yourself around him as your goodbye.

“Want to go for a late night drive tomorrow?” he murmurs against your lips and you hum as an answer. “And I can’t wait for the weekend. Pack warm clothes and I hope you have a pair of good boots. There’s a great path leading from the cabin up to the top of the hill, I think you’ll like it.”

Your heart skips a beat even just thinking about being with Harry unbothered for an entire weekend. And the fact that he is clearly not planning this to get into your pants, wanting to do actual activities with you is just a pleasant bonus. He keeps proving that you’ve made the right choice when you let yourself fall for him.

“Sounds perfect,” you smile at him, stealing one last kiss before peeling yourself out of his arms. You open the door, but before you could step out he pulls you back, pressing his lips to yours once more, making you giggle. “Stop, someone will see us!” you push him back into the room as you walk out.

“Text me when you get home,” he calls after you.

“I will!” you wave around and head downstairs to find Bonnie and leave.

Harry shuts his door closed, done with the party now that the only person he was interested in has left, but what he didn’t notice is that there was in fact a witness to that goodbye kiss he pulled you back for.

Georgie.

She was leaving the bathroom at the end of the hall when she heard Harry’s door open so she quickly stepped back, peeking out from behind the door and she didn’t miss the short scene that wasn’t meant to be seen by anyone, especially her. Neither of you realized that you were caught.

If she is being honest she thought Harry just made up the whole girlfriend story. Georgie was convinced he is not the type to date, at least that’s what she told herself when she realized he only wants to hook up with her. It was more than nothing, so she made up this version of Harry in her mind and it didn’t sit well with what he told her earlier tonight. She didn’t believe it could be the truth, only something he made up on the spot to get rid of her, but when she sees you lock lips with him, there’s no doubt that Harry in fact has a girlfriend.

And that girlfriend happens to be you.

Jealousy shadows over her thoughts, she sees green as she locks herself up in the bathroom, her chest heaving, her mind racing. Harry chose you over her? A freshman? Who is not even popular? People only know about your existence because you’re Mitch’s sister, that doesn’t mean you belong to the same crowds as him, yet Harry still chose you.

But why hasn’t she heard of it before? Word would travel fast across campus if Harry was caught with a girl who is clearly more than just a hookup, so that means you’ve been hiding your relationship.

“Of course,” Georgie chuckles shaking her head when the picture becomes clear. You’re dating in secret because Mitch wouldn’t approve of it.

Feeling like she has the best weapon in her hands, she barges out of the bathroom and looks for the person she knows will be her partner in ruining whatever is going on between you and Harry, someone who would definitely benefit if you broke up.

She finds Dominick in the living room, trying hard to chat up some girl who looks interested, but kind of hesitant, so Georgie doesn’t feel bad for ruining the moment.

“Hey, we need to talk,” she snaps her fingers in front of him to grab his attention. Not too willingly, but he stands from his seat and follows her outside.

“If I end up alone in bed tonight I’m gonna blame it on you,” the boy growls, but Georgie couldn’t care less.

“You still want to hook up with Y/N Rowland, don’t you?” she clicks her tongue, folding her arms on her chest.

“Of course, but she keeps brushing me off,” he growls, leaning against the wall.

“It’s because she is secretly dating Harry.”

“Wait, Harry? You mean Styles?” His eyes widen as he stares back at the girl in front of him.

“Yes! But they are hiding it because Mitch doesn’t know about it.”

Dominick thinks about the new information he just learned, finally adding two and two together.

“Look, I want them broken up and I have a plan. Do you want to help me?”

“G, that’s mean. I’m not one to ruin relationships,” he sighs, scratching the back of his neck.

“Come on, you think it’s that serious? Harry doesn’t do serious. We would just save them time and then, when they break up you can just sweep in and be the shoulder Y/N cries on after having her little heart broken!”

He is hesitant, it sounds mean and risky, but then he thinks about how you looked tonight. He’s been trying to get into your pants all semester and this sounds like his best option to do that. But is he that desperate to succeed?

“So? Are you in?” she urges him for an answer. Chewing on his bottom lip he exhales sharply.

“Yeah. What’s the plan?”

NEXT PART

Thank you for reading! Please like/reblog if you enjoyed!

[dracosathenaeum]

The Game | D.M.

Summary: You and Draco are friends with benefits but a game of spin the bottle causes you both to rethink your situation

Pairings: Draco Malfoy x reader, slight Fred Weasley x reader (hot make out scene 👀)

Warnings: Smut, angst, daddy kink, baths, alcohol

Word Count: 3,651

A/N: You’ve just lost the game, you’re welcome xx I also wasn't going to post this tonight but @fuckingdraco and @dracoswift hyped me up, ily <3

MASTERLIST

FOR THE NON-BRITS: touchwood = knock on wood

You weren’t anything special. No golden girl like Granger, not a descendant from anyone of significance, no. You were just you. And perhaps that was why he was so surprised when his heart started tugging at his chest every time you left his arms.

He had been with countless the girls.

He had touched you the same as he had touched Pansy. 

He had kissed you the same way he had kissed Daphne.

He had held you the same way he had held Millicent.

He had fucked you the same way he had fucked half the girls in the year.

Yet you still managed to be different.

You had started out as just another pass time, but you had lasted longer than any of his other flings, and beating Pansy was a trial in itself. She had stuck to him like glue in between other flings. He didn’t hate her company; he just knew he your company hadn’t become annoying to him yet, and that was all he needed. Maybe that’s why you had lasted so long, as soon as he realised girls started falling for him, he would pull away and break things off. But it had been almost half a year of your mutual agreement and you showed no signs of infatuation, no pesky feelings that would get in the way of good sex and he liked that.

He hadn’t grown tired of you. Hadn’t begun to find your voice annoying or your kisses dull. He still loved the way you felt in his arms, loved waking up to you curled into his side and most of all, being inside of you.

He wasn’t in love, feelings may be there, but not love. Not that he was willing to jeopardise his consistent shag of course, finding another girl to take over would be easy, finding one who wouldn’t catch feelings would be the hard part. Besides, he was used to you, if you wanted to break off the arrangement, he wouldn’t stop you but he sure as hell wouldn’t be the one to do it. He would simply wait it out, wait for you to fall for him like all the others before you had. Except this time he would give you a chance, test out your compatibility perhaps, though clearly you were both very compatible in bed.

You had both set some rules early on.

1.           There would be no labels attached to whatever relationship you two had

2.           If either of you wish to pursue a romantic relationship with someone else, you must break off this agreement first

3.           Could use the other to keep unwanted advances off

That last one was more for him than it had been for you, not many people had noticed you before you started sleeping with Draco, but none had attempted to even flirt with you since the two of you became public. Everyone knew of course, that you weren’t together together, just fuck buddies as it were, that was all of Draco’s relationships after all. But that didn’t mean anyone dared try to interfere.

//

Astoria Greengrass. The younger sister of Daphne Greengrass, someone Draco still considered a friend despite their history and her feelings. Astoria however was not someone anyone expected to try and cosy up to Draco, especially considering how Draco’s arm was still wrapped firmly around your waist as she threw on a flirty smile. Astoria was innocent, she was young, and her sister had surely warned her away from him judging by the look of hurt flashing across the elder sister’s face. Yet here she was.

A 7th year party was the last place you expected Draco to be stolen from your side, but you let him go, you don’t really have a say after all, rather, he’s the one that lets go of you.

You knew the game well, you had watched the girls before you fail at the final hurdle but you were determined. You had first noticed him properly in 3rd year, started developing feelings in 5th before finally getting your chance in 7th. You had managed to catch his eye; you had learnt the failures of the previous girls and you used it to your advantage.

You finally had the chance to be something more, to pretend he loved you when he held you, when he fucked you, when he moaned praises in your ear. You wouldn’t ruin your chances. Not yet. Not when you had spent the past 6 months hiding your emotions, willing your face to give off no sign of jealousy. There was only one emotion you found hard to find, hurt. But that usually came after he was gone, when he wouldn’t stay some nights and instead left you the second he was done with you. Those were the nights that you realised just what kind of game you were playing, that in the end, you would be the one to lose everything.

You try not to look, you really do. But it’s an itching behind your eyes, fingers fiddling with the cup you’re drinking out of and it’s the anger in Daphne’s eyes as she watches their exchange that makes you finally turn and look. He’s leant against the wall with Astoria stood infront of him, fingers innocently strung together as she stared at him from under her perfectly curled eyelashes. A whisp of her perfectly curled hair falls infront of her face, you watch as her mouth forms an innocent ‘o’ before trying to blow it away only for it to fall back. Her giggle makes you want to hex her. Draco tucking the strand of hair behind her ear makes you want to shave her head. The flush that comes across her face at Draco’s actions and his hand that lingers in her hair a second too long has you joining in on the spin the bottle game you had previously sat out of.

Downing the contents of the glass in your hand, you wince at the burn before sitting at the empty spot between a Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff.

You look up to see yourself directly across from Cormac McLaggen which has you cursing under your breath and sending a silent plea to every god and deity there is to save you from that. Anyone but him.

You cheer when the circle cheers, watch as horny teenagers practically swallow each other’s tongues. Cormac gives you a greasy smile that has you wanting to get up, but it’s better than watching Draco and Astoria flirt their perfectly compatible arses off.

“Anyone but that bastard McLaggen.” You whisper it just before you spin, hoping that it works in your favour rather than jinxes it, tapping the table leg behind you with a quick “Touchwood” just to cover all grounds.

You’ve fucked it.

It spins, but the universe is mocking you. It slows down, likely to land on fucking McLaggen. He could be a fucking prince for all you cared but there was no way you’d let that slimy shit kiss you.

You cross your fingers, willing for it to pass him. And for a while it looks like you’re screwed, but just as you’re about to feign alcohol poisoning it passes him, by barely an inch, but all the same it passes him. You watch with wide eyes as it lands on Fred Weasley by that one inch and you let out the breath you hadn’t known you held. The worried expression on your face quickly became one of relief, a look of relief could’ve been mistaken for happiness, and for a certain blonde, it had.

Fred raises an eyebrow at you, clearly not expecting that reaction from you, before offering you a toothy grin that you return before crawling to where he sat, settling your arms around his neck as his guided your face to his.

You couldn’t stop the moan that sounded at the first touch of his lips against yours. They didn’t know your lips as Draco’s did but that didn’t stop him from being a damn good kisser, knowing exactly where to put his hands and when to use his tongue. Fred Weasley was good. You briefly wonder if the alcohol was why you couldn’t pull away but that didn’t matter when he took your lower lip between his teeth and bit hard.

Forgetting yourself and where you were, you didn’t object when he grasped your thighs in his hands, pulling you to straddle his lap. You don’t hear the cheers erupt around you; you don’t hear Astoria shout after Draco as he leaves her mid conversation, and you don’t notice he’s gone until Fred pulls back to catch his breath.

You catch Pansy’s gaze from over Fred’s shoulder and that’s when you realise something was wrong.

She was smirking at you.

She only ever did that when things had gone her way, which, when concerned Draco, was never a good sign.

You were in half a mind to just turn your head slightly and kiss the man you were sat on senseless again, especially with the way his fingers gripped your thighs under your skirt. But you also knew they were trying to keep you from running as soon as you could, as if knowing you would inevitably follow the Slytherin out but wanted you to stay anyways.

Your head drops to Fred’s shoulder, breathing in a scent you could only describe as homey and warm, the opposite to Draco’s crisp, sharp aftershave, a scent you loved and could almost describe as home.

All these years and not even a magical first kiss with someone (though you were very drunk) could waver your love for him.

“Draco is one lucky bastard.”

“I’m sorry, Fred.”

“It’s okay, it’s just a game after all.” You grimaced at his tone but dug yourself deeper into the hole.

“If it’s any consolation you are a damn good kisser.” Complement a man then leave him high and dry for another, great job y/n. You were doing great.

“The second he fucks up you know where to find me though yeah?”

You couldn’t stop the giggle that left you lips, in a life where you weren’t already enamoured with Draco, perhaps this could’ve been the start of something.

“Thank you, I’ll keep that in mind.”

His fingers slip from your thighs, offering you a hand to steady yourself before you take off, the bottle continuing to cause messy drama as you watch Harry’s spin land on Theo. Damn Draco and his fucking temper tantrums for causing you to miss that moment.

The walk back to Draco’s room sobered you up, head clearing and realising what him leaving meant. Was he mad that you had kissed another person or was he… jealous?

You had never let yourself hope before, but then again, you had never found a reason to.  

He’s waiting for you, pacing around the room with his brows furrowed in a way that reminded you of a child throwing a tantrum. The thought of it making you laugh, giving away your presence in the room.

“Draco, I-“

He pushes you against his door, hands trapping you against the hard wood of the door behind you as his mouth swallowed your words. His hands worked quickly to strip you of your clothes as you tried to reciprocate his actions as best as you could, mind whirling as this was not where you had expected this to go.

Fred’s kisses had been new, they’d been exciting and addicting. But Draco’s? Even whilst he was pissed and rough, they were home. Lips you were used to, lips that could mould to yours perfectly instantly, lips that knew exactly how you liked to be kissed.

He pulled away to bring his mouth to the column of your neck, giving you a harsh suck where he knew would have your knees buckle, using the movement to sweep you off the floor and onto his bed.

Draco works fast when he’s angry, nothing in his mind but fucking his anger out of his system. He’s out of the remains of his clothes before you even have a chance to catch your breath. He stares at you with an unreadable expression so you match his, your features showing indifference rather than the usual lust you would allow yourself.

His narrows his eyes at you one last time before he brings his body between your spread legs, his warm mouth making contact with your cunt, tongue swirling around your clit. Your hips raise of the bed, wrists pulling at the charm that held them in place over your head as the rest of your body tries to get as close to the source of pleasure as possible.

A whine leaves you as his mouth stops its ministrations, one of his hands pushing your writhing hips back onto the bed as his darkened eyes find yours once more.

“Good girls behave, y/n.” You can’t stop the moan that falls from your lips when eases a finger into you, eyes never leaving yours.

A second finger joins the first, curling at a certain angle that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head, a heavy weight starting to form in the pit of your stomach.

“Only good girls get to cum y/n, you haven’t been very good tonight, have you?” The tightness in your stomach ready to uncoil when his lips met your clit again, giving a harsh suck before pulling away from you completely. Without his hands holding you down your hips rise up, following his fingers as they pull out and away from you, his cold gaze telling you everything you needed to know.

“I’m sorry Draco, please. Please. I was so close; I swear I’ll be good from now on. I promise. Draco please.”

“I don’t think you have.”

He’s standing again, hands on his hips, tongue running across his lips, the lips that had just almost pushed you over the edge. You didn’t have time to be frustrated over the near orgasm, besides, Draco had a thing for orgasm denial, you were all too used the edging.

“Unbind my arms.” He raises an eyebrow at your attempt to shift in power, but does as you ask all the same.

Your hands reach for his heavy cock, mouth giving a tentative suck at the swollen head, tasting the salty precum on your tongue. Your hands give him a few hard strokes before you take him back into your mouth, eyes watering as you struggle to fit even a third of him in your mouth.

“As much as I love to see you choke on my cock, I don’t think you deserve it today.”

You stare up at him through your eyelashes, the twitching of him in your mouth was all the confirmation you needed to know he was very much enjoying the view of you struggling to accommodate the size of him. 6 months of practise but you still couldn’t manage to take him in all the way.

His hands cup your face as he pulls you off his cock, replacing it with 3 of his fingers instead. His fingers press down on your tongue, forcing your head back, the rest of your body following as he lowers himself over you, his free hand already lining himself up with your entrance.

“Beg for it.”

All it would take would be one small shift of your hips and he would slip inside of you but the last time you had tried that he had bent you over his knee and slapped your cheeks until they were burning. You knew when to test him, and right now was not the time.

“Please fuck me Draco, I’m yours-” You’re not done practically purring your words when he thrusts so that his hips are flush with yours, giving you no time to adjust before he starts pounding into you with deep satisfying thrusts that have you drooling on his fingers.

His hands hold yours above your head, his mouth hot against your ear as he grunts and reminds you of who you ‘belong’ to.

“That Weasley could never fuck you like I can. This cunt is mine; it’s made for my cock and my cock only, do you understand?”

You whimper as your only response as his hips switch from their long deep thrusts to sharp snaps of his hips against yours, his mouth still reminding you who you belonged to.

“This cunt is mine; do you understand?”

You don’t know if you had responded with a “yes” or if it had simply merged with a moan to become incomprehensible.

“Yes what?” His hips continued their thrusts all the while, never losing their rhythm as your body arched into him and squirmed trying to get closer.

“Yes, daddy.”

You don’t call him that a lot, only when you’re truly in need of a trap card and apparently you were as it fell naturally.

His eyes snap up to meet yours, his grey eyes turning even stormier than before as he claims your mouth in a bruising kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth and fingers finding your swollen clit again.

“Be a good girl for daddy and cum.”

You don’t have to be told twice and finally let go of the heaviness in the pit of your stomach, your walls clenching around his as your body clings onto him, mouth unable to keep up with his kisses. The sight of you lost in pleasure, body writhing under his own, the fact that he had been the one to bring you this much pleasure was all he needed to paint your walls white. You hadn’t even noticed his stuttering hips, hadn’t noticed him still before pulling out. You were still in a daze, collecting your breathing as you came down from a high you had never experienced before.

“Are you okay?” You blinked away the blurriness in your vision to see Draco’s worried eyes scanning your face, hands keeping your gaze on him. “Was I too rough love?”

You know you must look horrendous right now, sweat coating your skin, a dazed expression on your face but you still give the biggest smile your tired muscles could.

“I’m perfect.”

“Want me to carry you to the bathroom?”

“Please.”

You’re in that space between reality and dreams when he picks you up, an arm hooked under your back and knees. He places you on the toilet first, you made the mistake of forgetting once and you made him promise to never forget again.

You watch as he moved around the bathroom, eyes appreciative of the view. Watching his back muscles become taunt as he stretched was something you could never get tired of. The red markings down his back from a couple nights ago were still prominent, you had offered to heal them, but he insisted on wearing them like ‘battle scars’ to show off in the quidditch changing rooms, you had rolled your eyes when he gave you that reason.

He had charmed the bathtub to fit the both of you, sliding in first before helping you step in. You rest against his chest, humming appreciatively as he runs his hands across your skin, focusing on the way they felt rather than the ache between your legs and on your wrists.

“I mean what I said.”

“hmm?” you had almost fallen asleep, his voice pulling you out from your haze.

“You’re mine. All of you. If you’ll have me.” You’re fully awake now, body tensed up as you realise exactly what he meant. You turned your body to face his, ignoring the water splashing over the sides of the tub as you settle between his legs again, facing him, “You want me? What happened to wanting no strings attached?”

You knew the game he played well, you wouldn’t fall at the final hurdle, if that was even what this is.

“I want you y/n. I’m not going to spout some bullshit love confession like some first year drugged on Amortentia, but I can’t share anymore.” Draco Malfoy was bad at communication but good lord this was a new low even for him. You were half inclined to continue feigning indifference to protect what you had, but the other half was greedy. Draco was offering you more, how could you not take this opportunity. You had beaten the game, you had gotten Draco to want more with you, well at least you were 70% sure.

“Is this some roundabout way of you asking me to be your girlfriend?” His upper lip twitched as you said the word girlfriend, the action making your own eyes drop to the space between you. Wet fingers cup you face, bringing your face back to his as he captures your lips in a slow, deep kiss. You had had lazy kisses together before, during lazy morning sex. But this, this was slow and meaningful and full of emotion. He might never be good with words, but this, this would be enough.

You pull away from him by a hair’s breadth, lips only millimetres apart. “Okay.” Each syllable you said caused your lips to touch again, neither of you moving just yet. He lets out a shuddering breath that he must’ve been holding in, a grin covering his face in a way you hadn’t seen before.

“You’re lucky you asked now, I was hoping to visit Fred soon.”

The ache between your legs only became worse as he kept you awake for the rest of the night, edging you and taunting you for hours to prove you belonged to him and that a Weasley wouldn’t even begin to compare (too bad you never got the chance to).

Waking up with sore limbs and a satisfying ache all over your body was worth every second it had taken to get here. To win Draco Malfoy.

TAGLIST: @bbeauttyybbx @pipppaaaaalouisee @theslytherinprincessworld @fangirl-3d2y @tttyrus @scriptingslytherin @justmimithings @purpleskymalfoy @minigigglybabi @505weasleys @secretaccshh @obbrssession @whatwoulddracodo @thatoneniceslytherin @thehumanistsdiary @mariah-can-dream @futureofanthropology @pixieflutter @tobarmaidswhodontcount @dray-cookies  @xuckduck @dreamyginny @dracofeltonmalfoy @lord-byron @inglourious-imagines @audreythehufflepuff @beiahadid @moonlightorbit @imonlyherecauseimbored @dracosgoodgirl @dreaming-about-fanfictions @goldensatine @avengers-end-me @sad-bitch-h0ur @zhangyixingxing1 @yourenotafailureoverall @pastelpuffbar @miso-tang @pixiedustsupplyco @harry-and-draco-loves @tsukibaby​ @dracoswhore007 @hogwartslut @mischiefisbeingmanaged @raylovessarcasm @drxcomvlfx @dracosballs @standingandstaring @its-chickenwing-450 @iamproudtobeaslytherin @mischiefisbeingmanaged @pxroxide-prinxcesss @slytherinxraven @jinnbie @lunalovegoodsgirlfriend @Utzelh8 @gloryekaterina @capkatie @jquick-18 @imcedricdiggorys @osterfieldnholland @explxsion @big-galaxy-chaos @malfoycrave @softlyqoos @krazykendraisnotinsane @minsuuwu @lumlfy @mllzhxrrs44 @weasleyis0urking @slytherinwh0re @gwlvr @m3ssytrash @aubreyanna02 @akaaaaashiiii @carrobrumbrum @dracoswift @bitchybeatle @samnblack @dumspirospero-1 @dracomalfoyswifeee @fuckingdraco @myshaahmad77 @you-sunshine @little_me204 @lipstickandloveletters @pillowjj @meipotter @dracoismybabey @rennaisancebaby @gwlvr @alastheadventurebegins @dracosbaibe @sydnee-kom-spacekru

[beyondspaceandstars]

One Day

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: light angst, brief smut at the beginning (nothing graphic) Summary: Bucky wants a baby but you have too many concerns regarding the super soldier serum and its effects. After a late-night disagreement, you two finally come to the conclusion that future plans have to be made. A/N: this is a super short little thing. i had this idea but didn’t totally know where to take it or how to expand upon it so i went with this hurt/comfort/angsty thing with a happy ending! it’s just short and sweet i think :)

Masterlist

Bucky pulled you down to his lap, sitting on the couch as you two were fully encompassed in one another, lost in the make-out session that was currently ramping up. Your lips moved in sync, both practically consumed with want and need. Your bodies moved along as well as you grinned into his hips, feeling him already hardening underneath you.

Bucky let out a deep groan. His one hand left your neck and crept its way down your side, rubbing over your jean-covered thighs. You moaned into the kiss, letting your hands tangle in his hair. Gentle pulls caused moans from him as his hips began to buck in response to your grinding.

Getting a bit daring, seeing where this was going, Bucky slowly brought his hand between your bodies, playing with the buttons of your jeans. He popped them and went in to touch your core but your hand quickly came down to his wrist, halting all movements.

You pulled back, disconnecting the kiss. You opened your eyes, being greeted by a very confused but concerned-looking Bucky.

You frowned. "Can you grab a condom real fast?"

Bucky’s expression suddenly turned more confused than worried. He looked around his living room, realizing he didn’t really have any in the near vicinity. The closest was the bedroom but you two were already in such a great position and he was only thinking about…

"We could just forego one tonight, right?" He said, a tiny pout playing at his lips. His hand even sneakily tried to resume its original intentions but you kept his wrist in a firm grasp. He sighed. "Just this one time, honey. It’ll be fine."

You shook your head, defiant. "James, no."

Any confusion left on his face vanished. He knew where this was going. This wasn’t really the first time you denied him this which had led to an interesting talk but that was a while ago, fairly fresh into the relationship. Stuff had changed and you two were grown. It seemed this was coming back up and his eyes said he knew. Could practically read your mind which used to be a blessing, you thought, but was soon becoming your greatest enemy.

"Why?" Bucky scoffed. "What’s the worst that could happen? I’m clean, you’re clean. So, what is it? Please, tell me."

You gulped, shifting uncomfortably now in his lap. Your hands gingerly moved to his shoulders. "Just… Something."

He hummed, unconvinced. "Yeah, something," Bucky repeated. "Something like a child?"

"Bucky…" you sighed and pushed yourself off his lap, moving towards the kitchen. He stayed put, watching you.

"What? Am I wrong, honey?" The way he said the pet name made you shiver. You always hated fighting with him as the bickering was never over little stuff. You two seemed to always come face-to-face with heavy situations and this was absolutely no exception.

You shook your head. "No," you sighed, "but we’ve talked about this. It’s not that I don’t want it but with the serum, we just don’t know what could happen. What it could do to me or god forbid the baby—,"

"Then we gotta figure it out." Bucky stood abruptly. Your brows raised, watching him begin to walk over to you.

"W-What?"

"We have to ask someone," he said. "Doctor Banner could look into it, right? Someone out there has to know more about it because, doll, I… I want to start a family with you. I- Of course I know there are other options and I’ll happily go down that route with you if that’s what it takes but first I just… I want a child with my girl."

You gasped at his confession. Sure, Bucky had dropped hints throughout your relationship but he was rarely one to just come right out with anything. Hearing the words, letting them really sink in… Your heart swelled. He really wanted all that with you. Something, from the sounds of it, he had been thinking about for a while.

"Really?" You asked, your voice suddenly so soft from the surprise.

Bucky nodded, taking more steps towards you, nearly closing the gap. He grabbed for your hands which you happily allowed. You stared up into his eyes, seeing the adoration and seriousness swimming within them. You couldn’t help but really blush under his gaze.

"I didn’t think it’d ever be for me," he admitted. "Especially after everything." He paused, motioning towards his metal arm. You gently placed your hand on it. "But then you waltzed into my life and turned everything upside down. I just knew you were it for me, honey. You were the one I wanted to start a life, really start life with."

You didn’t know how to respond. You could only stare back at him as he waited, his eyes growing a bit worried with your silence. Eventually, you threw caution into the wind and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a deep kiss. Bucky gratefully accepted it, kissing you back with as much passion and force.

You broke the kiss seconds later but still kept him close. "I want that, too," you whispered against his lips. "You know I want that too and maybe… Well, maybe it’s time."

"Yeah?" Bucky asked, a small smile playing on his lips. He moved back a bit, trying to take in your expression again. You hoped he saw the wonder you felt on the inside.

You nodded. "You’re right," you said. "We gotta talk to someone and figure this out. But I think it’ll be okay, Bucky. I think we’ll have our family one day."

Bucky practically let out the biggest sigh of relief as he pulled you into a crushing hug, lifting you slightly off the floor. You giggled at the action and returned it, wrapping your arms securely around him.

"We will, honey," he mumbled. You could just barely make out his words as if saying them out loud would jinx it all. "We absolutely will."

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

join my taglists

Bucky Barnes One Shots Taglist:

@reichelhache @bella-bear03 @rvgrsbrns @thebadassbitchqueen @libraries-and-coffee @golden-hoax @adoringanakin

[cultgambles]

Yeah She Bad Ain’t She

Why would I wanna keep her to myself

Dabi x Reader x Hawks

Wrote this in Hawks’ POV bc try new things. Enjoy! Also got inspired by some audios on gwa lol but what’s new.

Voyeurism, exhibitionism, public, threesome, mutual masturbation, one (1) gay joke, they/them pronouns for reader, afab tho

WC: 1794

Masterlist | Requests? open

The first time you step into the dingy bar of the LOV, you scrunch your nose at the smell. Cough into your fist, and scan the room with careful eyes. You see Tomura Shigaraki nursing a whiskey at the bar, Kurogiri behind it, Spinner chatting up Twice. Dabi is laid back on the couch, his arm slung around someone you don’t recognize.

“Hawks, our newest member!” Shigaraki says to the team. “Give him every hospitality.”

“Hey-yo!” you say, saluting leisurely as a greeting. Shigaraki introduces everyone, as if you don’t already know who everyone is. Except one person, the one cozied up to Dabi. They introduce themselves as [Y/N]. Someone you’ll have to research on later before you report back to the commission, which makes you sigh silently.

“Come sit! You’re in luck because tonight is movie night!” Twice says.

“Just tonight?” you ask, watching the rest of the members find seats around the small TV.

“Every Thursday!”

“What are we watching tonight?”

“Catch Me If You Can! About that American con artist,” [Y/N] says. “Pass me that blanket, would you?”

“Sounds interesting. And sure,” you say, tossing the Christmas themed blanket at them. You watch as they fluff it out on themselves and Dabi. You push over one of those lounge chairs and flop onto it. Shigaraki queues up Netflix and hits the play button.

About thirty minutes in, you hear [Y/N]. “Dabi, stop,” they whisper, smacking him on the arm lightly.

“What, I’m not doing anything at all.”

“Don’t act all innocent.” Out of your peripheral vision, you swear you see Dabi’s hand move under the blanket, ​​[Y/N]’s hand gripping his forearm.

“But don’t I make you feel good, baby?”

“Don’t ask stupid questions. The problem is everyone is here.”

“Not like we haven’t done something like this before,” he scoffs. “Look, we even got an audience.”

Your face flushes as you listen to their conversation. You barely hear a low groan from [Y/N]’s lips.

“Can y’all shut the fuck up? I’m trying to see what Frank’s gonna do!” Shigaraki fumes, whipping around. A look at Dabi. “Oh.”

“C’mon, boss, don’t pay attention to us, watch the movie,” [Y/N] says.

“This is free entertainment right here.”

[Y/N]’s hips jolt upwards. “You perv.”

“More moaning my name, less talking,” Dabi growls, ripping the blanket off [Y/N]. [Y/N]’s wearing a yellow sundress, that by now, is hitched up above their hips. Their panties are pushed to the side, showing their glistening sex. Dabi’s middle finger and ring finger disappear inside of them, his palm pressing against the clit roughly as he fingers them.

“I-Is this a normal occurrence?” you stutter, face turning the same color as your wings.

“P-pretty normal, yeah, oh, Dabi, right there!” [Y/N] trails off, grinding up for more friction.

“What can we say, we like to have fun here.”

By now, the other league members have turned around, movie be damned.

“How are y’all so casual about this?!”

“Don’t be like that, you’re having a good time too, bird brain,” Dabi smirks, eyes drifting to your growing erection.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snap. But he’s not wrong, both of them have got you so enamored. You hear the squelch and squeaks, the quickening of breaths.

“Dabi, I need you, need your cock,” you barely hear them whisper.

“Of course, doll. Lay down,” Dabi smiles softly, planting a kiss on their lips.

You don’t know if you’d rather be him or [Y/N].

[Y/N] slips down, horizontal on the couch. You eye Dabi as he stands straighter, nimble fingers unclasping his belt and pulling his cock out. It shimmers slightly in the TV light. He drags his cock along their folds, gathering wetness. He taps it against them. Without warning, he slams into them, both letting out a guttural sound at the sensation. His pace is slow, he’s gripping [Y/N]’s hips as a smack smack smack rings out as their bodies meet.

Somewhere behind you, you hear a zipper unzipping. You’re tempted to too, but would that be too soon? Must be, since this is basically your first official day here.

But you don’t deny how good [Y/N] looks taking Dabi’s cock. Hair splayed out, breasts moving under that sundress. You want to rip the dress off of them. Tt hold, knead at the flesh, and lick at the pert nipple. Your eyes travel down their body, where [Y/N] takes him in so nicely. How would they taste, you wonder.

And what about Dabi? Just the size of him could choke you out.

Dabi’s voice snaps you out of your reverie. “C’mon, man, if you’re just gonna stare at them, why don’t you play?”

“Nothin’ wrong with lookin,’” you trail off.

You so want to. Badly.

“Hawwwwkkks,” [Y/N] moans. “Let me taste you. Taste me. Whatever.”

“You heard them,” Dabi drawls.

One beat, and suddenly you’re up, fast as lightning. “[Y/N], let me take your dress off.”

“Okay,” [Y/N] lifts their arms as you pull the dress up over their head, revealing the tantalizing and smooth skin. You toss the dress somewhere to the side of you and rip off your gloves. You kneel beside them on the floor, slotting your mouth against theirs in an open mouthed kiss. Your hands sneak up, massaging their breasts and pinching the nipples.

You feel [Y/N]’s hand snake down your chest, and whimper as their hand grips your clothed cock. You pull away to bring it out. The tip is flushed red, a bead of precum forming at the slit. You stroke your hand down once, and move so your hips are flush with [Y/N]’s face.

“Nice dick,” [Y/N] and Dabi mutter at the same time.

“Jinx!” [Y/N] barks a laugh that soon turns into a moan at a particularly hard thrust.

[Y/N]’s tongue slides on the underside of your cock, massaging the vein there. Soon enough, it’s enveloped in their mouth and you fight to suppress a moan.

“Your mouth feels so good, baby.” [Y/N] hums, taking you in deeper. Their nose nuzzles the hair at the base of your dick slightly. They barely have to do any work as Dabi basically pushes them forward with each thrust. Dabi looks up at you with lazy eyes.

“Kiss me,” you plead, leaning in.

“That’s gay,” he says as he captures your lips with his.

You’ve never kissed a man before. He tastes like old cigarettes and mint. Your tongue slides against his teeth, and finally meets his tongue.

He’s got a tongue piercing.

How many piercings does this dude even have?

You jerk away without warning as [Y/N] does a particularly hard suck.

“Wanna feel their pussy?”

“I couldn’t.”

“Just because you’re new I’ll

let you.” Is this a trick?

You so want to.

[Y/N] pops off of you. “Dabs likes watching.”

“Does that even count since I’m also partaking?”

“I think so. Just get over here, I need your fat cock in my mouth. Not that yours wasn’t also good, Hawks. Just needs to be somewhere else,” [Y/N] says.

“Do it!” you hear.

Damn. You’re so wrapped up in these two, you forgot there was an audience. However, it seems that was the push you needed. You give the a-okay. Dabi nods, clearly pleased by your decision, and pulls out.

You trade places, [Y/N]’s hole flexing against nothing. You bring two fingers down to swipe at the wetness and run your tongue along the digits. You guide your cock in, letting out a satisfied moan at the warmth. [Y/N] squeezes your cock deliciously, and you almost want to come right then and there. You tell them so.

Your pace isn’t as brutal as Dabi’s but still elicits those sounds you're beginning to love out of [Y/N]’s mouth. A sick part of you hopes you’re better than Dabi, and that they will leave him for you.

Or maybe they’ll let you in again? How often do they do this sort of stuff, you wonder to yourself.

[Y/N] and Dabi are holding hands sweetly, their fingers brushing against his charred skin rhythmically.

Your hand moves to rub tight circles on their clit and you're squeezed impossibly tighter as a response.

“You gonna come, [Y/N]?” Dabi asks. “Getting sloppy there. Don’t bite, baby.”

“I’m so close,” [Y/N]’s voice dips off info nothingness at the end, mouth agape. They throw their head back as they move their hips against yours when your body meets theirs. “I want both of you to come inside of me.”

“Wasn’t gonna do it anywhere else,” Dabi chuckles.

“You want me to?” you ask.

“Yeah, fill me up good, Hawks.”

You glance at Dabi. He shrugs. Hope he doesn’t kill you for this.

“Oh shit,” you curse, feeling [Y/N] spasm around you and shudder.

You think Dabi comes at the same time you do. You slow to a languid pace, letting [Y/N]’s walls milk you.

“Good job, doll face,” you watch him lean down and peck [Y/N] on the forehead. “You too, bird brain.”

“Uh, thanks.” You pull out of [Y/N], and they wince at the loss. You tuck yourself back into your pants and [Y/N] wraps the blanket around their shoulders.

“Good show!” Twice says.

“Now let’s finish the movie,” Shigaraki huffs out.

“You have such a one track mind, Shiggy,” [Y/N] says, ruffling his hair.

“I’m just really invested.”

“Yeah, you were invested in us, too,” they say, looking down briefly.

“Oh shut up.” You catch a glimpse of his cock as he scurried to shove it back in his pants.

“See ya round, Hawks,” [Y/N] says, blowing you a kiss. They take Dabi’s hand in theirs and walk up the stairs at the back of the bar.

“Probably gonna fuck some more,” Spinner snickers.

You’re lucky your mic on the inside of your jacket just happened to die before you got up to some frisky business. This has got to be the weirdest thing you’ve been a part of: League of Villains just fuck as bonding activity.

Maybe you’ll keep this one to yourself. You wonder if they would ever invite you again.

[laheysdork]

quite a freaky friday - stiles stilinski

request: (x)

word count: 2.4k

warnings: nothing really

a/n: thank you anon for the request!! this fic is pretty tricky to write especially with the pronouns and the witch stuff cause i have 0 knowledge on them but i hope it turns out okay! and i kinda ran out of title ideas, i’m so sorryyy

masterlist

Tossing around the bed, you slowly regain your consciousness, finally waking up. You stifle a yawn before fluttering your eyes open, squinting at the bright, morning sunshine entering your eyes.

Last night, the pack had another encounter with the witch that has been terrorizing and brutally murdering Beacon Hills’ supernaturals. You and Stiles were out investigating in an abandoned warehouse in the middle of the preserve, presumably their possible hideout or as Stiles liked to call it their ‘secret lair’, searching for clues or any leads that could’ve pointed out the identity of the witch and their intentions.

You first thought it was unwise for the two of you to go out alone, not having a supernatural bodyguard unlike usual to protect your human selves. But since Scott got another lead for where the witch might appear, you didn’t want to deplete his reinforcements and decided to go with Stiles alone.

What’s the worst that could happen, right? You and Stiles have encountered various supernatural creatures for years now and you’re still fine, well aside from the all the trauma.

But to your demise, your words seemed to be jinxed. The witch was sneakily waiting for your arrival, setting up a ploy, and the both of you just waltz right in like a mouse in a trap.

You stepped in ahead of Stiles, the candles scattered across the room suddenly lighting up as an ominous feeling flood your guts. From the dark shadows, you could see a figure emerging, wearing a long black drape, a hood covering their face. They were chanting foreign words in a distorted voice, one of their arms stretched in front of them as you stood rigid, shaken from the unexpected encounter.

The next thing you knew, you felt strong arms shoving you to the side as you were yanked down to the ground. Finally sitting up, you look around, retrieving no sign of the witch, but instead you found Stiles’ unconscious body opposite of you, taking the blast in your place.

Immediately, you rushed over to his side, calling out his name in a panic-stricken manner, full of fear, which was diminished once you heard him grumbled as he tried to sit up with your help.

Since it’s been a long night, you offered to stay the night at Stiles’ to watch over him in case anything happens, and Stiles was not one to deny.

With that recollection, you sleepily call out to your best friend, eyes still droopy and heavy.

“Stiles?”

“Yeah.”

But that is not Stiles.

Your eyes shot open at the sound of the unfamiliar voice as you instantly jolt out of his bed, swiftly snatching the pillow that you previously used, holding it up as you cautiously watch the unknown figure fully covered in blanket shuffles on the bed.

“Who are you? Where is Stiles?” You interrogated the person who is in your best friend’s bed as panic wash over you.

“What do you mean?” The unknown person’s voice is feminine, light and high-pitched, as she tosses the blanket covering her to the side before getting out of the bed, finally revealing the face behind the voice. A brunette, who is slightly taller than you, is standing in front of you, dumbfounded. She has moles covering her face and a button nose, which casts a sense of familiarity yet somehow also foreign. “I am right-“

Before the sentence is finished, she let out a loud horrid screech as you flinch back from the surprise, but still fully vigilant of the person in front of you.

“What the fuck?” Her eyes are no longer onto yours, her vision darts to the mirror behind you as she watches her own reflection in horror, her palms coming up to her face to feel it in disbelief.

“Am I dreaming?” She whispers before slapping herself in the face, groaning in pain afterward as her cheeks grow red and her hands caresses her aching skin.

“What is happening? Who are you?” Upon hearing you apprehensively ask more questions, she finally put her attention back onto you.

“What’s happening? Well, I don’t know, Y/N, cause I’d like to know that too!” She yells hysterically as she frantically points to herself.

At the mention of your name, you only become more alert, steadying yourself, ready for any sort of ambush. “How’d you know my name? Where is my best friend?”

“What? It’s me, Y/N-“ A loud smack is heard as you start to pound her continually with the pillow in your hand the moment she steps forward, approaching you.

“Ouch! Stop, please! It’s me, Stiles! It’s Stiles!” She declares while backing away, hands in the air to shield her face from your assaults while simultaneously trying to clarify that she means no harm as you freeze the moment you hear her claim.

“What? But you’re… a girl?” You ask hesitantly, puzzled by the inexplicable situation.

“Yes, I can see that and I have no idea why.” She flails her hands agitatedly, gesturing to her body, just as confused and lost as you are.

“But it’s impossible.”

“Y/N, we’re friends with werewolves. Nothing, and I mean literally nothing, is impossible.”

Okay, she got a point, but that doesn’t mean she’s Stiles.

“How do I know you’re not lying?” You are still skeptical, having been tricked numerous times before which definitely did you a number.

“Okay, remember in third grade, I forgot my crayons and you lent them to me. But that time you only had the blue ones so I had to color my jeep blue. I thought it was ugly at first but you convinced me that it was pretty like the sky. And because of that, I decided to keep Roscoe.” Her lips turn up to a small smile at the nostalgic memory as you let out a relieved sigh, the story confirming her identity.

In an instant, you sprint towards your best friend, your arms clinging onto his- well, in this case, her torso, squeezing her tightly into your embrace before pulling away.

“You gave me a heart attack back there,” you exclaim.

“I gave you a heart attack? I was scared you won’t believe me! But how did this even happened?”

“No idea but we better call Scott.”

So you dial Scott right away, explaining briefly the situation and the urgency of it. A few minutes later, you hear him pull up in front of Stiles’ house. You tell Stiles to stay put while you go downstairs to greet him and the rest of the pack in.

“How bad is it?” Scott asks as Lydia, Malia and Liam are following behind him.

“See it for yourself.” You push open the door to Stiles’ room, displaying the female duplicate of the once frenzied boy to the rest of the pack.

“Damn.”

“That’s Stiles?”

“He looks… pretty.”

Astounded gasps can be heard all over the room as everyone’s faces gape in surprise, still taken aback despite having been notified ahead by you.

“Okay as much as I enjoy watching you all fall for female me, I’d still like to go back to normal me as soon as possible please,” Stiles retorts, still having his sarcasm even at critical times like these.

“Tell us everything that happened,” Scott finally speaks sternly, taking the situation very seriously.

You explain everything, the timeline and the details, making sure not to leave anything out.  

After you finished, everyone looks at Scott expectingly, waiting for his wise alpha decision-making. Looking pretty clueless himself, he finally decides to call Deaton, probably the only plausible solution he can currently think of, hoping the Druid will have the answers.

“Deaton said that every spell is reversible, including this one. He told us to find the witch’s spellbook which supposedly contains the spell to undo the curse,” Scott explains after hanging up with Deaton.

“So where can we find this book?” Liam asks.

“My guess is the warehouse,” you suggest. “There’s a lot of voodoo stuff there that we haven’t got the chance to check out.”

The rest of the pack seems to agree with you before finally taking off, leaving you in charge of Stiles in case of any changes.

As the room becomes silent again, chilly at the absence of the pack, you sink beside Stiles who is defeatedly slumped on the bed, legs bouncing up and down from the overwhelming anxiety.

“So, did you eat any fortune cookies?” Stiles tilts her head and quirks her eyebrows at your attempt to start a conversation, not really grasping what pop-culture reference you’re implying.

“Like in ‘Freaky Friday’? Which is pretty ironic cause today is Friday,” you add before letting out a small chuckle from the coincidence.

“Freaky Friday?”

“Did you not watch that movie? The one with Lindsay Lohan? Wow, I’m personally insulted.” You dramatically huff, trying to lighten the thick mood.

“Stop criticizing me, okay? I’m panicking right now.” Stiles stands up, fidgeting with her hands as she paces around the room.

“Okay, okay. But well, look at the bright side. At least Stiles is a gender-neutral nickname. If the worst-case scenario happens, you won’t have to change your name.”

“Y/N!” Stiles whines frustratedly.

“Fine, I’m sorry,” you mutter, frowning to yourself as you watch your best friend being on edge.

“You should probably take some adderall, Stiles. You’re being more jittery than usual,” you point out.

“Well, gee Y/N, I don’t know, maybe it’s the fact that I was cursed and turned into a girl?” Stiles deadpan.

“It can’t be that bad, right?”

“Yeah but I’m freaking out!” Stiles is spazzing all across the room before finally halting in front of you.

“Like look, I have boobs.” Stiles lifts up her arms to grab her newfound breasts, as her eyebrows slowly furrow in bewilderment. “And they’re oddly soft?”

“Yes, they’re just a blob of fat. Don’t flatter yourself,” you shrug as she drops her hands back to her sides.

“And I got an actual vagina too, like a real one! Should I check it out?” She rambles as you choke on air from the blunt question.

“Stiles, this conversation is getting a little out of hand.” She can sense the awkwardness of the topic as she composes herself, clearing her throat.

“Okay, sorry. I’m just curious. I have never seen, y’know, in real life,” Stiles confesses sheepishly as she settles down beside you once again.

“Waiting for that special someone, huh?” you tease, your lips turning to a smirk.

“Please, not now, Y/N.” You can see Stiles’ cheeks slowly blush as she avoids your gaze, indicating that your taunt is working.

“Oh I see, who’s the lucky gal?” You elbow the side of her arms playfully.

“What?” Stiles finally turns to glance at you.

“Come on, Stiles. You’re blushing like crazy. You have someone in mind!”

“Yeah, actually, I do.” Her eyes are fixed on yours, an indecipherable look painted all over her face. As you stare back into her whiskey eyes that are identical to Stiles’, it feels as if things are back to normal. No evil witches, no abnormal curses, just you and your best friend spending a typical Friday together.

As the lingering moment grows, the two of you exchanging heartfelt gazes, you come to a realization, finally decrypting the hidden meaning behind his act, your heart dropped.

It’s you. You’re the girl.

Suddenly, everything makes so much sense. All this time you thought he didn’t reciprocate your feelings, that the unexplainable tensions, the occasional glances you caught him doing, the subtle flirty undertones were all just in your head, but turns out you’re the one being too oblivious.

“Oh my God.” You finally breathe out, jaw falling wide. Seeing that the gears in your head are starting to rotate, piecing two and two together, Stiles nods to herself.

“Yeah, I can work with an ‘oh my God’ for now. I mean that’s better than a ‘no’ from a 10-year-long crush, right?”

“Y-You liked me since the third grade?” You stutter, baffled by the sudden verbal confession.

“Since the day you lent me those crayons,” Stiles admits matter-of-factly.

As if on cue, you can hear chatters and footsteps up the stairs, interrupting the intimate conversation the two of you just had.

“We got it.” Scott raises the antique leather-bounded book that is on his hand. “Now, let’s go to Deaton. He’s the only one who knows how to cast the spell.”

Finally arriving in the Animal Clinic, Deaton immediately checks on Stiles, looking pretty amazed himself at the situation before signaling Scott to hand him the spellbook, flipping over it until he finds the right one.

“Okay, this is the one, genus verto. I know a thing or two about witches and luckily this spell is not complicated and easy to reverse,” Deaton explains as you feel a part of the weight on your shoulders being lifted.

We all do what Deaton told us to, dragging the tub that we used years ago for the surrogate sacrifice to the middle of the room, filling it with water, then arranging candles around the tub before lighting them up one by one.

After the apparatus is all set, Deaton finally gather up the herbs and elements needed.

First, he pours a bunch of mountain ash into the tub, the clear water turning into an opaque coal grey color. He then grabs a bowl and dumps some mistletoe and wolfsbane in it, crushing it into a dark green paste-like substance before putting the mixture into the tub, dissolving into the water.

When the preparation is finally done, Stiles is told to get into the tub as we all stand behind the burning candles.

On Deaton’s signal, Stiles inhales a deep breath before fully submerging herself as Deaton cites the spell in a language that you can’t quite comprehend, probably Latin.

After the incantation is completed, all the candles are magically blown off in chorus as water splashes out of the tub, Stiles, in his original body, emerging out of the dark liquid, gasping for air.

Snatching some towel, you immediately approach him, swinging the material over his shoulders to warm up and dry his shivering body as he wipes the fluid off his face.

“So, since you have just literally got your balls back, do you also have the balls to ask me out?” you snark as he shot you an ‘are-you-kidding-me’ look.

“Not funny, Y/N.” He pouts before his lips slowly twist into a smug, the dread from a few hours ago leaving his body. “But yes, I do.”

With his wet palms, he cups your cheeks and pulls you in, his lips meeting yours in a chaste kiss. Your eyes were wide from the abrupt contact, butterflies roaming wild in your stomach as your ‘cheeky gal with the punch line’ persona instantly fades away. Before you can process anything or kiss him back properly, he pulls away.

“Date night tonight then?”

“My house, and we’re watching Freaky Friday,” you beam.

[redgillan]

Under Pastel Skies - 11

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 6,696

Warnings: Unprotected Sex (non explicit) 

A/N: And finally... Just a word before, and it’s important, I wanted to put the explicit between two ‘*’ but I settled for one at the end because explicit means different things to different people. So whenever it starts to get too steamy for you, skip to the *. Thank you for reading, I appreciate your support!

Wannabe sugar daddies, don’t interact with this post. 

Bucky moved behind the kitchen counter when he heard the door close. You and your guests were in the hallway where you took their coats and asked them to remove their shoes. He took a deep breath to calm himself. He had to stay calm, you depended on him tonight.

“It smells nice in here. What did y-”

Bucky straightened himself up and tried to keep a casual, friendly smile on his face as he came face-to-face with Okoye. He had seen enough pictures of your siblings to recognize them.

She looked surprised to find someone else there. He raised his hand and waved, and she frowned at him in confusion. The rest of the guests stopped short when they saw him waving like a dork. You pushed through them and came to his side.

“Guys, this is my friend, Bucky,” you said. “He’s the one who invited you.”

“Thanks for the invite. I hope you like wine,” Scott said, extending his hand as he walked over to Bucky.

“I sure do.”

Then he shook Wanda and Okoye’s hands, telling them how good it was to finally meet them. Your sisters introduced him to their partners, W’Kabi and Edwin who preferred to be called ‘Viz’.

You led them to the living room while Bucky prepared the drinks. W’Kabi decided to stay behind and help Bucky carry the drinks to the living room. He praised Bucky for having such a nice home.

The conversation seemed to flow easily between your siblings, though as Bucky arrived with your drink, he couldn’t help but notice that you were not participating. You took the glass from his hand, smiled then went back to staring at the coffee table. He sat next to you and rubbed soothing strokes on your arm before he reached for his drink.

Okoye was telling everyone that she had decided to return to New York after King T’Chaka’s passing. His son carried the mantle of the Black Panther, surrounding himself with his father’s Dora Milaje, but Okoye wanted to live closer to her own family.

She was a Dora Milaje, loyal to her king, but she was also a sister, loyal to her family. She felt like there were no good choices, and it ate away at her until her king found a solution to her problem. His little sister, Shuri, was starting her own business in the United States and needed her own bodyguards. Okoye accepted and W’Kabi followed her.

Scott didn’t share much. He showed everyone pictures of his little girl, Cassie, and said he was now working at Baskin-Robbins.

Wanda was evasive about her life and whereabouts. She told everyone that she’d been backpacking across Europe and met Viz, a wealthy businessman, on a beautiful sunny day in Berlin. They’d been attached at the hip ever since.

“And of course, you’re all invited to the wedding,” Wanda said while Okoye admired the ring. “It’s going to be a small wedding. I just need my family.”

“Excuse-me,” you said, standing up abruptly. “I think something’s burning.”

Bucky watched you disappear into the kitchen. He glanced at the group again, no one was paying attention so he followed you into the kitchen.

He found you leaning back against the counter, your arms crossed over your chest, staring into nothing. He walked over to you and pulled you into a one-armed hug that you accepted with a pleased sigh.

“I don’t think I can do this,” you said, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“Is it a code ‘flamingo’?”

“No,” you chuckled, pulling away. You took a deep breath and leaned back against the counter again. “It’s just...”

You huffed, unable to find the words and grabbed him by the waist, seeking his warmth again. Bucky let out a surprised laugh as you squeezed him tightly. He wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pressed you against his chest.

“I know it’s hard,” he said, kissing the crown of your head. “It’ll be over soon, angel.”

Bucky rocked you side to side in a slow, soothing rhythm until you were practically melting against him. He felt you take a deep breath, your nose buried in his chest. He didn’t want the moment to end, but you’d been gone for several minutes now, and the others would barge in the kitchen soon.

He pressed a long kiss to your forehead and gently pushed you away, his arm falling to your waist. You smoothed out the wrinkles you had made in his shirt without looking him in the eye.

He could tell you were thinking about something but before he could ask what was on your mind, you kissed the slight cleft in his chin and quickly moved away from him.

He smiled to himself, his heart beating a little faster.

You were transferring the dinner rolls from the pan to the basket when Scott poked his head into the kitchen. Bucky was still smiling to himself like a lovesick idiot.

“Everything okay?” Scott asked, taking a step closer to you. You turned to him and nodded. “It’s kinda weird, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“Seeing each other again after all this time.” He leaned his forearm on the counter next to you and smelled the bread. “Baby Wanda’s getting married. Did you know they flew me first class? And the hotel is incredible. I feel like a prince.”

“Viz seems very nice.”

“I can’t believe Wanda backpacked through Europe,” Scott scoffed. “She hates camping.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Bucky watched as Scott leaned closer and whispered in your ear. “Listen, I wanted to thank you for everything you did for me and for Cassie-” Bucky quietly left the two of you alone. It was a private conversation and he didn’t want to impose himself.

He finished setting the table, and soon everyone joined in. Bucky was sitting with his back to the kitchen, W’Kabi sitting next to him. You took a seat across from him, Wanda sitting next to you. Okoye sat next to Wanda, facing Scott, and Viz took a seat at the end of the table.

The food was good, and everyone complimented Bucky on his cooking skills. He said that you had helped him a lot, but you refused to take credit for chopping up a bunch of vegetables. You gushed about his cooking skills and his delicious recipes. It made them salivate just thinking about it.

“And your house is amazing,” Scott said with a dreamy look on his face. “A place like that...” he sighed, “that must have cost you an arm and a leg.” The whole room fell silent, and something that sounded like a foot hitting a shin made the table jump. “Ouch, why did yo- oh.”

Okoye was looking at him with the widest pair of eyes Bucky had ever seen. She looked furious and exasperated at the same time. The others stared at their plates as the uncomfortable silence grew.

Bucky glanced at you, not surprised to find you smirking. You knew he lived for moments like these, and you knew he already had the perfect comeback. As he watched you bit your lip, trying to contain a little giggle, he couldn’t help but love you even more.

“It was the original price but I’m a good negotiator,” Bucky said. “Only cost me an arm.”

W’Kabi was the first to laugh at his joke, then the whole table broke into fits of laughter. Scott looked equally amused and relieved.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t-”

“No problem,” Bucky cut him off.

“Can’t take you anywhere,” Okoye said with a smile and a shake of her head. She turned to Bucky as everyone calmed down. “So, Bucky, strange name, uh? What do you do for a living?”

“My name is James, Bucky’s just a nickname.” He wiped his mouth and set the napkin down. “I’m a writer.”

“A pretty good one, judging by your apartment.”

“I’m all right.” He shrugged. “Literally.” Scott snickered at the joke.

“He’s too modest,” you said. “His books are best sellers. They’re autobiographical, he’s very sincere and honest and funny. He has a way of making you laugh about things that are pretty awful.”

“Yeah, we saw that,” Wanda said with a grin. “Are you working on anything at the moment?”

Bucky shifted a little in his seat. “Yeah, it’s uh,” he cleared his throat. “It’s a very important one. I don’t really want to talk about it. Don’t wanna jinx it.”

He wasn’t going to tell your family that he was writing a book about how he fell in love with you. That’d be pretty awkward.

“I understand,” Okoye nodded, then looked at you. “You’ve been really quiet tonight.” You shrugged. “I thought you were still living with Natasha. Do you still work at the hotel? Where is it again? Chelsea? That’s one hell of a commute from Brooklyn.”

“I wasn’t exactly living with Natasha,” you said. “I was crashing on her sofa. And no, I quit six months ago. I’m a full time artist now.”

“That’s great,” Scott said, raising his glass toward you in a silent toast. “How’s that working out for you?”

“Not too bad. Bucky’s friend is a professional photographer. He helped me set up my website. The pictures he took are amazing. I sold a few pieces online but I’m struggling to find gallery representation.”

“Hey, as long as it pays the bills.”

“I don’t really have to worry about bills these days.”

“What do you mean?”

The room got quiet again, and Bucky could feel the tension in the air, buzzing like static electricity. All eyes were suddenly on you, waiting for an explanation. Bucky knew you were not going to lie to them. He locked eyes with you, and braced himself for impact.

You set your fork down and folded your hands in your lap.

“Well, Bucky and I have an arrangement.”

“I don’t like where this is going,” Scott cut you off.

“I’m not going to beat around the bush and I’m not going to use pretty words to make it sounds more appealing,” you continued as if you hadn’t heard him. “He’s my sugar daddy.”

“You’re joking. Please, tell me you’re joking.”

“Nope,” you replied smugly, popping the ‘p’.

A chorus of voices rose in protest. Okoye and Scott were shouting while the others kept glancing around wondering what had just happened. Wanda was strangely quiet next to you.

“Oh, shut up!” you shouted. “You left me alone. All of you. We were all grieving our brother but it doesn’t give you the right to fuck off when things get tough. Do you know how fucking terrifying it was when mom started to lose her memories? Or when the police drove her home at three in the morning after one of her spells? No, you don’t know because you weren’t there.”

Bucky had never seen you so upset before, and he didn’t quite know what to do but he felt like you needed to get it off your chest.

“I didn’t have friends or boyfriends. I went to class, then got home, hoping mom hadn’t set the house on fire. I took the first decent job I could find because she needed a new home and professional help. Without Natasha I would have been homeless.” You turned to Bucky. “I’m so sorry, I’ve ruined dinner. You’ve worked so hard.”

“It’s okay,” he replied immediately. “I’m with you.”

“God, you’re so nice,” you sighed, then turned to your siblings. “See? That’s the kind of person he is. I was lonely and lost, and I found him and he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me. He’s kind and sweet, he’s selfless and generous, and you have no right to criticize our relationship.”

Bucky stared at you, his mouth hanging open a little. Slowly he shook himself out of his trance and reached for your hand on the table. He had no idea you thought so highly of him.

“We needed each other,” you continued. “And I don’t care what you think.”

Dinner was officially ruined but Bucky didn’t care. He smiled at you, soft and reassuring, and let go of your hand when you smiled back. He was proud of you for speaking up, for standing up for yourself.

Bucky noticed Wanda and Viz exchanging looks.

“Okay so, since we’re sharing truth bombs,” Wanda said, shifting a bit in her seat. “I wasn’t really traveling through Europe. I went to Sokovia and after that, everything’s kind of a blur. I did things I’m not proud of. I wanted to forget,” she paused and sighed, “everything. I hit rock bottom, pretty hard, and checked myself into a psychiatric hospital. That’s where I met Viz. He helped me send you those postcards. I screwed up, real bad, but I couldn’t tell you guys the truth. I’m not really proud of myself.”

“I got fired from Baskin-Robbins for yelling at a costumer.”

“Okay!” Okoye exclaimed in her big sister voice. “Enough truth bombs.” She pointed at you. “I’m sorry you had to do this alone, it wasn’t right but we’re here now and we won’t let you down. As for the sugar daddy thing... well you’re a grown woman, you can do whatever you want. Bucky seems like a nice guy.” She turned to Wanda. “We are all dealing with our pain in our own way. I’m not judging you. We’re here for you, Wanda.”

“I know,” Wanda said, sniffing.

“And Scott, stop yelling at people.”

“Yeah, good idea.”

Bucky turned to W’Kabi and Viz who looked proud of their girls, albeit a little uncomfortable with the whole situation. Someone started chuckling, he couldn’t tell who it was, but suddenly the whole table broke into a fit of laughter.

“How about some dessert,” he said. “Then you guys can fill me in on some childhood secrets.”

As he walked away from the table, he heard you warn your siblings to keep their mouths shut. They laughed in response, which made Bucky smile. Surely it’d take more than one outburst at a family dinner to fix your broken bond but it was a good start.

During dessert, he learned that everyone called you ‘Splotchy’ because you painted on the living room walls as a child. He learned that you always wanted to play board games with Okoye. Your favourite one was Mystery Date.

“She had a crush on Tyler, the beach date.”

“No, that’s not true, don’t listen to them.”

When they finally left, you spent a few extra moments hugging everyone. Promises were made, and Bucky couldn’t help but smile as he watched you wave goodbye to your siblings.

It was just the two of you again, and the mountain of dirty dishes and silverware. He told you not to worry about the dishes, but you knew if he went to bed he wouldn't be able to sleep, not when the kitchen was such a mess so you cleaned together.

He loved these moments with you. There was something very peaceful about the night; the dark skies, the soft lights, the quiet apartment, knowing people all around town where getting ready for bed. It used to make him feel tiny and isolated but now, with you, the night didn’t seem so frightening anymore.

A few weeks went by, and things were changing a bit. You spent your Saturday mornings with your sisters, bonding, and facetimed with Scott at least once a week.

Bucky also noticed a subtle change in Sam’s behaviour. He seemed happier and he wondered if his friend had already forgotten Natasha.

It was almost June, and the building’s swimming pool reopened as the weather got warmer. Despite living there for several years, he had never gone near that swimming pool until you dragged him out one scorching afternoon.

The rooftop was surprisingly calm, apart for the group of children playing in the pool. There were people sunbathing around the pool, enjoying a good book, socializing. You dropped your bag on the floor and laid out your towel on the reclining chair.

Bucky had never seen you in a bathing suit before and it caught him completely off guard, but what made him literally growl was seeing the little pendant of your necklace rest against your skin. He didn’t know why but it awoke something in him.

You both slathered on sunscreen before you went for a swim. Bucky recognized a few neighbours, and while they all knew he only had one arm, they had never seen him shirtless before. Bucky didn’t mind their inquisitiveness, as long as you were beside him.

“Do you think the kids peed in the water?” you asked as you rested against the edge of the pool.

“Probably,” Bucky cringed. “When I was a kid, my mom told me that there were chemicals that turned the water a different color when someone pees.”

“Ew,” you laughed.

After a while, he lay out in the sun, enjoying the feel of the sun on his skin. He could still hear you playing water polo with the kids when a shadow passed over him. With a frown, he pushed his sunglasses up onto his forehead.

“It’s nice to see you, James,” his neighbour beamed, taking a seat on your unoccupied chair. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you out here.”

“Hi.” He wasn’t surprised when his voice came out hoarse since he had been on the verge of falling asleep. With the grace of a walrus, he propped himself into a sitting position. “Yes, well, swimming pools are more fun when you’re not alone.”

His neighbour turned to look at you. “Congratulations, by the way. I didn’t know you were seeing someone. Must have been serious if you two moved in together. How long has it been since she moved in? Six months?”

“Seven.”

He knew he should have corrected her, you weren’t his girlfriend, but it felt good. It was just a harmless little lie.

“Does she make you happy?”

“I’m the happiest man on earth,” he replied with a bright smile, then slid his sunglasses back on his face.

His neighbour chuckled quietly. “I can see that!”

When you returned to your seat, his neighbour was gone. You hummed to yourself as you settled into your seat, big droplets of water running down your body. Bucky tilted his head down and peered at you over the top of his sunglasses.

“Where did you get that popsicle?”

“Jealous?” You licked your treat without looking at him. “The kids’ mom gave me one as a thank you for looking after her kids.”

“That looks good.”

“So good.”

“Mind sharing it with me?”

You pursed your lips thoughtfully, then held out your popsicle. As Bucky leaned closer, you pulled it away and jumped to your feet. The look he gave you was one of pure betrayal.

“Oh, angel, you should have never done that.”

He grinned to himself when he saw a shiver run through you. When he stood up, you took a step back. He strutted toward you, his grin predatory. The floor was slippery so you couldn’t go very far.

“Are you ready to share now?”

“No!”  

The popsicle melted down your hand, creating a mess. You turned your arm and licked the drops of popsicle juice from the inside of your wrist. It distracted you long enough for Bucky to wrap his arm around your waist, pulling you against him. You squealed and grabbed him around the neck to keep from falling while also trying not to smush the popsicle against his chest.

You waved the treat in front of his face and he tried to bite off the tip of your popsicle. It made you laugh, your body sagging against him. His face was close to yours. He was so close he could smell the artificial orange scent of your popsicle.

Your laughter died down and your breath caught in your throat when you saw the way he was looking at you. Without thinking, he went for it. He felt your fingers flex against his skin, urging him closer.

His lips were barely a breath away from yours when one of the kids repeatedly slapped your thigh, obviously oblivious to what the two grownups were about to do.

“Come back! We haven’t finished the game,” the kid whined. “Come on!”

Reluctantly, you let go of Bucky and took a step back. Your exhale came out shaky, and in your almost-kiss-induced trance you handed him the popsicle without saying anything before you followed the kid.

You turned back to look at him, one hand sprawled across your stomach, the other across your chest. He knew you were feeling it too: the butterflies, the racing heartbeat, that pleasant heat going through your body.

The difference between like and love.

A week later, he came home to an empty apartment. He climbed the stairs to your studio but you weren’t there. Instead, he found a canvas stretched out smooth and tight on the floor, and several bowls of paint arranged in a semi-circle around it.

He knew you were home, you wouldn’t leave without your phone or bag. Out of curiosity, he went up on the roof and let out a relieved breath when he found you.

You were sitting on the edge of the rooftop with your knees up to your chin and your arms wrapped loosely around your shins. You looked so beautiful in the golden hue of the setting sun.

He stood there, watching you as if he was looking at a painting in a museum. Entranced. You hadn’t noticed him yet, and a quick glance around the roof told him you were alone.  

Slowly, he made his way to you and took in your appearance: a short sleeve white shirt and a pair of denim overalls. The shirt was surprisingly spotless but the overalls were covered in dried paint splatters of different colours.

“I looked everywhere for you,” he spoke softly, trying not to disturb you.

“Did you?”

You straightened up a little but kept your eyes trained on the horizon. Bucky sat close to your feet and let his hand slip under the hem of your jeans to close around your ankle. A sigh slipped past your lips, and he let his fingertips linger for a moment on your smooth skin.

He knew you had a meeting today, and judging by the resigned look on your face, it didn’t go well.

“What’s on your mind, angel?” he said, caressing the top of your foot.

“I was thinking about the night we met. God, I was so nervous,” you said, laughing softly. “I told you that agreeing to meet you was like choosing between a pack of wolves and jumping off a cliff.”

“I remember,” he chuckled.

“I never told you how glad I am that I jumped off that cliff,” you said. “I’d never jumped head first into something, not knowing what was going to happen. Now I think I’m addicted to it. Before I met you, I was living for others. Everything single decision was thoroughly analysed. There was no mystery, fun, or impulsiveness. I put my entire life on hold, and now I see that I can’t do that anymore.”

“What are you going to do?”

You paused, searching for the right words. “I don’t know if I want to turn my passion into a career. Painting is my safe-place, and right now it’s giving me so much anxiety. I haven’t had the inspiration to paint in weeks.” You looked at him and pressed your lips together tightly. “And, if I don’t want to become a full time artist, then I guess our deal is off.”

Bucky stared at you, mouth agape. He really hadn’t seen it coming.

“Please, don’t be angry,” you pleaded. “I don’t want to stop seeing you. When he didn’t answer, you leaned forward and touched his face.

“I could never be angry with you, angel,” he said, kissing the inside of your palm. “I understand, and I’ll help you however I can.”

“I’m not sure yet. I’m still thinking about it.” You looked away from him and stared at the sky. “Do you know that feeling when you stand in a high place and you think about jumping? You don’t want to jump and you don’t do it, but there’s that urge.”

“I think I do.”

“It’s called ‘call of the void’. People say that it’s an affirmation of our will to live. That knowing we’re going to die one day makes us appreciate life even more.” You looked at him. “I want to jump but I can’t. I’m scared.” You lowered your voice. “I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“You’re scaring me a little. You can’t talk about jumping when we’re sitting on the edge of the roof.”

You chuckled under your breath. “It’s a metaphor.”

“Let’s go home. We’ll make dinner together, put on some music and pretend we’re in a movie.” He got to his feet and held out his hand to you. “Please.”

You took his hand and let him lead you to the staircase.

Once you were inside the apartment, he removed his shoes and you removed yours. Silence settled between the two of you as you entered the kitchen. Bucky moved behind the counter while you stood close to the dining table.

When he chanced a glance at you, he saw you staring into nothing while you played with the charm on your necklace, rolling it back and forth on its chain. You often did that when you were daydreaming.

Bucky walked over to you and placed his hand on top of yours, halting your movements. You let go of the pendant and held his hand instead. He ran his thumb soothingly over your fingers.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” he spoke softly.

“If I say it, it’s going to change everything.”

He pressed your joined hands against his chest, over his heart. “No, it’ll make it real.”

He let go of your hand and cupped the side of your face. You leaned closer until you were only inches apart. His thumb traced your cheekbone, then moved to trace the outline of your bottom lip.

He let you come to him, let you take that first step, and when your lips brushed against his, he closed his eyes and sighed. He kissed your parted lips; once, twice, three times, tiny little kisses against your trembling lips.

His kiss grew bolder, turning into something so intimate, so passionate and intense that tears gathered in his eyes. He pressed his mouth more firmly against yours, his large hand still cupping the side of your face. His bad shoulder jutted forward as if his missing arm wanted to touch you.

He let out a groan, frustrated that he only had one hand to finally explore your skin. Sensing his inner turmoil, you held onto his bad shoulder and pulled him against you.

His tongue swept into your mouth, moving in a slow and deliberate rhythm. A growl escaped him and he deepened the kiss, tasting, sliding, retreating and entering again. He poured everything he had into the kiss.

“Bucky,” you moaned after your broke the kiss, breathless.

Hearing his name fall from your lips, your voice hoarse with desire, sparked something inside him. He swiped his thumb over your bottom lip, feeling the softness and collecting the moisture that had gathered there.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, looking positively entranced. “My pretty angel.”

You pulled him in for another kiss and wrapped your arms around his neck, your slightly cold hands felt amazing against his heated skin. He pressed himself against you, letting you feel the rise and fall of his chest, the desperation in the jerky thrust of his hips.

He needed more but he wasn’t going to force you into anything. He was more than happy to stand here and kiss you for hours. He cupped the back of your neck and rubbed the sensitive skin behind your ear with his thumb.

“I’m yours,” he spoke against your lips, his eyes screwed shut.  

You pulled back to look him in the eye, searching his face. He opened his eyes and you saw nothing but honesty in the depth of his eyes.

You untangled yourself from him and took his hand. Slowly, you took a step back, then another, his hand still in yours. His eyebrows lifted slightly when you bit your bottom lip and gave him a coy look.

He nearly growled again, the wolf inside him eager to touch you, feel you, claim you. He stood taller, his chest puffed out and breathing fast.

You led him up the stairs to the second floor and turned on the light in the corridor. You slowly made your way down the corridor with him behind you.

But instead of turning left towards his bedroom, you turned right into your studio, and it changed everything. Your studio was your sanctuary, your safe place, and knowing that you were about to bare your soul and body to him tamed his inner wolf.

You hesitated at the threshold of the room and glanced over your shoulder to look at him. Bucky squeezed your hand to encourage you.

“I bought some body paint on my way home,” you said, letting go of his hand to step into the room. “I wanted to try something different, something more personal. I wanted to use my body to express my emotions, to create something raw and messy. My interpretation of somatic art therapy.”

You moved around the darkened room; bent down to adjust the canvas on the floor and made sure the bowls of paint were still full.

“I sat there and thought of my mom and Pietro,” you continued, barefoot on the canvas. “I only feel sadness and anger, and I don’t want to create something that makes me feel sad. And I realized the only thing that keeps me inspired is hope.”

Turning to face him, you held your hand out, palm up, and his eyes widened at your silent request. Without thinking twice, he joined you on the canvas. It was both soft and scratchy under his feet.

Bucky watched as you unbuckled the right strap of your overalls and slipped the second strap off your shoulder. You tugged your jeans down your legs and tossed them aside, leaving you in your underwear and white shirt.

Swallowing thickly, Bucky let his eyes travel up and down your body. He had seen you in your bathing suit before but this was different. Then he reached behind his neck and pulled his shirt over his head, baring his strong chest, hard abdomen and marred skin.

The room was dark; the pastel sky, visible from your studio thanks to the floor-to-ceiling windows in the living room, didn’t provide much light. The light was still on in the corridor, casting a faint golden glow over the room.

You took a step forward to examine his scars more carefully and Bucky took that opportunity to kiss you again, slowly, intimately. He peppered kisses along your jaw and down your neck, then went down on his knees in front of you and continued his journey down your body, pressing soft kisses to your stomach.

He accidentally knocked over two bowls of paint; the dark colours spilled out onto the canvas, chasing each other. His kisses made you light up with desire, your moans music to his ears as your hands came down on the back of his head.

When it all became too much, you gently pushed him into a lying position and helped him out of his jeans. His belt buckle made a faint clink when you pulled it open, and Bucky swore out loud when you planted a wet open-mouthed kiss right below his navel.

In the back of his mind, he knew he wasn’t going to survive the night. He let his head fall back against the canvas and closed his eyes shut. Your talented mouth sent sharp jolts of pleasure through him, making it difficult to breathe.

He could feel the paint stick to his back, creating the shape of his upper body on the canvas. It was strangely exciting.

He moaned, arching his back, and slammed his fist down on the canvas. His fist landed in one of the bowls of paint. It splashed paint everywhere. He looked down at you and saw tiny flecks of paint splayed like freckles on one side of your face.

It made you both giggle. As he pushed himself up into a sitting position, Bucky left a print of his forearm on the canvas. You climbed into his lap, straddling him, then removed your shirt and bra. You wrapped your legs around him, one hand on his upper arm, the other hugging his neck.

Bucky was sitting on the canvas with his legs outstretched and slightly bent at the knees. He held you against his chest, rocking back and forth, his arm around the small of your back. You sighed together, sharing the same breath.

“You have the prettiest nose.” You let your index finger run down the length of his nose, your finger wet with paint. “So pretty.”

Laughing softly, he brushed his nose against yours and kissed you. He changed the angle of his thrusts, catching you by surprise.

“Does that feel good, angel?” he asked, lightly biting your jaw. You answered with a short cry. “Look at me.” You slowly opened your eyes, your movements faltered a little. “You’re so beautiful like this. You drive me crazy, y’know that?”

“Bucky,” you cried out.

He felt you shiver when he moved his hand from your back to your face. He cupped the side of your face and you immediately pressed yourself closer to him, craving the warmth of his touch.

He stopped your movements and looked you in the eye. “I’d do anything for you. Anything. You’re my one and only.”

He laid you down as gently and safely as he could, and once you were lying flat on your back, he sprawled between your thighs. He supported his weight on his forearm, careful not to crush you. Your hands slid up his sides, and as your thumb traced over his ribcage, a violent shiver went through his body.

He had never seen anything more beautiful than watching you come apart; your eyebrows furrowed, your lips parted in a silent ‘o’, the way your body shook in little spams. Absolutely stunning.

Exhausted, he collapsed on top of you and hid his face in the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around him and slowly caressed his back.

After he kissed his way down the side of your neck, he straightened himself up into a kneeling position and looked down at you. Your naked body was on display, covered in paint and glistening under the moonlight. He wished he could take a picture, immortalize this memory.

*

He helped you up, and after another passionate kiss he led you to his bathroom, the two of you leaving colourful footprints all over the clean floor.

The bathroom's bright fluorescent light was harsh and unforgiving as you looked at each other in the mirror. Yet you were both glowing, streaks and dots of paint covering your bodies. Bucky turned on the water and waited for it to get hot.

He wrapped his arm around you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder. “We look like we blew up a rainbow,” he said, smiling wide when it made you chuckle.

In the shower, you took turns washing each other, laughing and kissing until the water turned cold. You pushed his hair out of his eyes and smiled sweetly at him.

“We’re going to catch a cold if we stay here.”

“Mhh,” he replied, kissing your temple. “You’re right. There are clean towels on the shelf. Go, I’ll be right behind you, I still need to take care of my scar.”

“Can I help you?”

Asking for help wasn’t something he was comfortable with, especially after years of being babied by his ex-girlfriend, friends and family. After his accident, he couldn’t do anything on his own. He had to rely on others and it made him feel like a burden, like he was incapable of taking care of himself.

He knew it was all in his head but he couldn’t help it.

“It’s not exactly sexy,” he said.

“I don’t care. I want to help. Tell me what to do and I’ll do it.”

Patiently he guided you step by step through the process of cleaning his stump. You inspected his skin thoroughly, looking for irritation or any signs of infection, then washed it with a mild soap.

He had to admit that watching the woman he loved take such good care of his scar made his stomach fill with butterflies. You looked so focused, so attentive, that he could help but smile and try to kiss you.

“Bucky,” you complained, turning your head away, avoiding his kiss. “This is serious business, stop fooling around.”

He almost said it. I love you. But something was holding him back. He didn’t know what would happen next and it scared him. He didn’t want this to be a one-time thing, but he also realized that things were moving too fast.

“Okay, now you’re shivering,” he said, holding you close, trying to share his body heat with you. “Let’s get out of here.”

He wrapped you in a fluffy bathrobe and patted you dry. Then you carefully dried his scar and applied corticosteroid cream to his shoulder, massaging it gently into his skin. He slipped on his robe and you loosely tied the belt at his waist.

“We should talk about what just happened,” you said, playing with the belt. “What does it mean? What are we going to do? Can we-mph”

He cut you off with a kiss, long and hard and filled with passion. You smiled against his lips and finally pulled away.

“Is that how you’re going to shut me up from now on?” you asked with a grin.

“We’ll talk,” he said, pressing his forehead against yours. “But not tonight.”

“When then?”

“Tomorrow, I promise.”

You looked down at your hands on his belt and nodded. He tilted your head up and lowered his mouth to yours.

“Don’t avoid me tomorrow. Please.”

Your words felt like a knife in his heart, and it left him momentarily speechless. He took one of your hands and pressed it against his heart. “No matter what we decide to do, you’re my angel and I’m yours.”

You shared a long, silent hug before you both decided to call it a night. Once he saw the footprints in the corridor, Bucky felt the urge to clean them. He tried to resist but he knew if he didn't clean he wouldn't be able to sleep.

You understood –you always understood. That’s why he felt so comfortable with you.

Once it was clean, he joined you in the kitchen and made you breakfast for dinner, opening the cupboard and pulling out a couple boxes of cereal you didn’t even know he had.

He told you that he was keeping them for a special occasion. He remembered you telling him that it was your favourite meal as a kid, watching TV with your siblings every Sunday night, eating cereals.

“I can’t believe you remembered that,” you said, tears in your eyes.

The two of you sat on your bed, sharing random thoughts and spoonfuls of cereal. You giggled as milk dribbled down his chin and stained his robe. You wiped at the spot on his chin with your thumb and gave him a chaste kiss.

Your lips tasted sweet. Bucky pulled you in for another kiss, discarding the dirty dishes on your bedside table. You helped each other undress, then slid under the covers where you laid your head on Bucky’s chest.

“Bucky,” your voice cut through the quiet. “Do you mind-”

“Don’t worry, my angel, I’ll wait until you fall asleep.”

“Thank you.”

Part 12

[lesbian-in-leather]

Okay so here we go: ARCANE THOUGHTS

I’M FUCKING SAD

cried when Silco was like. A good dad at the end. Even as he’s fucking DYING because she SHOT HIM he was still like “no it’s okay I love you I literally do not hold this against you. Something I would have done at your age, dw about it”

Actually Silco’s ENTIRE fucking character was incredible. One of (if not THE) best written villains I have ever seen. He had a justifiable goal, went too far but in the confines of the universe it wasn’t even really much further than anyone else, he was just better at it - but then he gets a daughter! The way all of his cronies looked at each other and at him when Powder first threw herself at him, the way he just slowly sort of curled around her, the fact that she was unstable as shit and technically a massive liability and he was repeatedly told this but still he protected her because she was his KID. The fact that he’d spent his entire life working towards the same goal but literally turned it down because he loved her more. The scene where he’s talking to Vander’s statue like “I get it now”. Fucking heartbreaking, thank you

The way they portrayed Jinx’s madness????? INCREDIBLE. The way that sometimes we can see what she sees, or hear what she hears, but we also get just as much from an outside perspective and we can see exactly why she does what she does while simultaneously seeing that she’s unstable af. The way we see how she perceives things and rewrites interactions real-time so we know that, to her, it’s not an overreaction at all! But to everyone else...

Other reasons I’m fucking sad: THEY ALL VOTED UNANIMOUSLY. The whole fuckin council is like “actually, yeah, we can have peace” and now they’re all going to FUCKING DIE and I’m SO UPSET ABOUT IT. I want Mel to survive and I understand that she’s right in the path of the missile but here me out okay, like hear me out, what if she doesn’t die because she’s one of my two favourite characters and I love her

LOVE EKKO (hate that that’s how his name is spelt but hey we can’t have everything). This Little Man (hehe) literally found the singular tree growing in the undercity and was like “hey, you could make a religion safe haven outta this” and just fuckin did it. What a king

My lil gay kids! Good for them! It’s gonna take Vi a while to accept that she has feelings but I’m just happy for them. “Cupcake” I swear to god. Imagine being that cute

Jayce (again, hate the spelling. That Y is unnecessary sir) is super interesting but is he aware that he literally was never the powerhouse of the council. Like it has ALWAYS been Mel. She has been playin you, boy - not saying she doesn’t care about him but she has absolutely been playing him

Speaking of Mel playing people, still not over the QUEEN SHIT level of shade we got right at the start when Mel gave that other councillor a child’s toy for his birthday. And the fact that he fuckin LOVED IT and continues to play with it to this day. He doesn’t even know. Icon

Lil fluffy man. Heimerdinger (had to google that). Love that lil man but also he really does need to understand that not everything can be stretched out. Like, if she understood the time crunch relative to a human lifespan and ajusted his advice accordingly then he would have gotten on a LOT better with the rest of them

Also Viktor, I love you, but the animators really need to remember which side you hold your crutch. The sheer amount of scenes where it was in the wrong hand was STAGGERING like... his right leg is the injured one. So it should always be in his right hand (when he’s using it). And yet. Edit: have discovered I was ENTIRELY wrong about this my bad (ily Viktor)

OH OH ALSO I’M REALLY FUCKING SAD ABOUT THAT LIL SCIENCE LADY. IDK HER NAME BUT THE ONE THAT GOT FUCKING DECIMATED BY THE HEXCORE. SHE WAS CUTE I LIKED HER AND I FUCKING SCREAMED

Also Caitlyn’s dad is an icon. This man is just tryna keep his family together, good for him. He’s so proud of his kickass councillor wife and kickass enforcer daughter. Peak

IMEDDIATE EDIT TO ADD: the soundtrack was also just FUCKING AMAZING I am obsessed

I have a lot more thoughts and I’m absolutely going to go into more depth about this but rn I’m just. Sad. And I want more. Please give me more I need it