#perhaps test the water a bit

[on-a-lucky-tide]

Price being a cantankerous arsehole while off duty and Nik having none of it.

Nik says absolutely nothing if it happens on duty because he respects the hierarchy, but off duty, John's his. All bets are off. He's gonna bully (affectionate) John for his emotionally stunted sulk.

Nik is hugging, squishing, nuzzling and smooching that grumpy wanker - "oh, solnyshko, so moody, do you want a hug? Some fuss? Lots of kisses, pochemu ty takoy serdityy, detka? Mwah mwah" - into oblivion.

All that Russian swagger, smooth talking and open affection; he doesn't give a shit, he's going all out. He's bigger, means he can blanket John, cage him in, trap him in the sofa or against the kitchen counter, hands somehow everywhere at once, until John is either squirming and cackling, or relents and talks about it.

With someone as mulishly stubborn as Captain Price, only Full Nikolai will suffice.

[webism]

ᯓ Kento Nanami doesn't even know he has a breeding kink until he cums inside of you for the first time. It's like a flip switches in his brain, and the second that sweet release floods your womb he is plagued with the instinctual need to fill you over and over and over until something takes.

And breeding you doesn't have to mean a baby, but rather the primal possession that comes with having you spend the rest of the day with a part of him inside of you. No other man has the privilege, the right, or the reason to claim you as he has, and it does something nasty to the way he fucks.

He's still the gentleman he's always been: still makes sure you cum at least once on his fingers or tongue before he graces you with the hard-to-manage length of his cock. But rather than in the spirit of purely giving you pleasure, he's trying to ensure you're so wet that he can force himself just that little bit deeper inside of you.

A guilt of his, perhaps, but Kento read that if he were to edge himself between moments of intimacy with you, that his loads would be bigger, more forceful—and the idea of giving you even more of himself than he already had been is enough to get him hard. So, he starts touching himself whenever the thought clouds his mind, which is more-often-than-not nowadays. He fucks his fist to the thought of breeding you out until he's cumming dry and you're so full of his cum that it has nowhere to go other than down your legs. Stopping before he cums is a pain like none other, but his new adopted thought process claims a load spent anywhere other than balls-deep inside of you is a load wasted.

And he doesn't say a word of it to you. You only pick up on it when you realise he won't cum anywhere else. When you're sat between his legs after a long day of work, serving him with your mouth and coaxing those lovely groans from his chest. How his hands try and guide you off of him before he gets close enough to lose control, sys he doesn't want to cum down your throat. Once upon a time he would get hard all over at just the sight of you swallowing his lust.

"I just... want to be inside of you, honey, is that okay?" He says, and you oblige because the way Ken gets once he's finally seated inside of you is nothing other than animalistic, euphoric. But you have to wonder if there's a reason he avoids spilling his seed over your tongue or tits like he used to.

"You know I like the taste, right?" you glance over at him when he bends you over the arm of the couch and slips his aching cock into you. You doubt you'll ever get used to his size—he always has to take a moment to let you settle once he's in.

"I know, love," he claims. "I just... prefer it this way."

"Don't you like fucking my throat anymore?"

"God," he groans, presses his body into your back so that his breath fans over your ear. "No. I love your throat. I love all of you."

A thrust to test the waters— at your moan, another. Kento rocks his hips, drags his cock out of you and then drives forward until you and him are as connected as you can be... almost.

"You wanna breed me, is that it?"

Kento's hips stall. You're not stupid, and he doesn't even realise he's got an arm wrapped around you so he can splay his fingers over your stomach. His wedding band presses against your skin, sets it alight with burning need. Hearing you say it, though, makes him nearly cum on the spot—he wouldn't be so selfish.

"How'd you—"

"You say it, Ken," you drawl your words out, tease him with your tone. "When you cum, you say you're gonna fuck a baby into me, that you're gonna 'breed me like the pretty whore I am'. Don't worry, I like it. I want it."

He can hardly believe it, such words feel foreign to his mind. But they taste familiar on his tongue, like a part of his subconscious speaks on his behalf when he's all blissed out like that. He wonders just how deep the instinct to breed you runs, because his cock twitches and all of a sudden he's thrusting into you at a speed that seems only supernatural.

The snapping of his hips, the sound of skin against skin and the curses that slip from his lips like wine. It doesn't take long for you both to cum alongside each other, Kento, of course, deep inside of you.

And it takes a very strong part of him to pay attention to himself this time, and you aren't a liar: the song of need and primal lust that spill from his mouth are made for porn. Not that he can find it in himself to be embarassed, you seem to like it, what with the way your whole body shakes in orgasm as he fills you up.

Yeah, you'll be throwing out every condom you've got stashed away in the house.

kinktober tags: @medusamara5 @echodead @curiositykilledthecatx3 @hirainne

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@xixflower @alifromtheotherworld

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ under your roof ]❜

ft. logan howlett x f! reader — xmen, marvel

╰₊✧ your baby daughter really likes uncle wade’s roommate, and logan would be lying if he said he didn’t form a quick attachment to the two of you as well┊2.9k words; prt one (here), prt two, prt three coming soon!!

setting: deadpool & wolverine (2024) worst! logan contains: probably occ logan, he’s on his best behavior, mostly fluff with a little side of angst, single mother reader with an unspecified age, this chapter is mainly between logan & your daughter, reader has a bad relationship with the father & he’s an asshole, one joking threat of stabbing

➤ author's note: this was so much fun to write! single mom reader and her daughter are so lovely and i have two more part featuring these two and logan coming up! i hope you guys enjoy

kids don’t like logan. it’s not a profound discovery nor is it a surprise to anyone who learns this fact. he’s intimidating enough to make some full-grown men piss themselves with so much as a glare, much less little babies who start sobbing uncontrollably when they see a giant scary man walking around believing that he would eat them or something even though he’s literally just standing there. whether the little ones have an instinct that signals him out as a mutant or he simply looks like a bad man from one of their fairy tales, he isn’t sure, but it’s not the best feeling either way when he’s trying to settle back into normal life with the constant weight of knowing that he’ll never fit in.

it doesn’t help that, in general, he isn’t good with kids either. he’s generally patient with their immaturity since they don’t know any better, but he finds the crying and whining extremely headache-inducing to his sensitive senses without a clue how to calm them down.

moving in with wade and acquainting himself with his friends was a start, but the missing part of his life to make him finally feel loved and at home was the family of two who lived downstairs. the first time he met you was also the first time he met your daughter when wade told him to dress a little nicer because the two of them were invited to your place for dinner. he explained that the two of you were practically siblings and that it would probably be something he should get used to, reminding him to “turn that frown upside down” because he was about to meet someone who “puts gordon ramsey to shame.”

the last bit sounded great to him, especially because no one in their household knew how to make anything more complicated than noodles without setting it on fire and the cost of outside food was really starting to tally up. still, he just wore some cargo pants and threw on a leather jacket, running his fingers through his hair once which was already a lot more effort than he’s ever put into meeting anyone else before.

wade didn’t even bother knocking, just being himself and picking the lock as he so typically does, kicking the door open and yelling a loud ass “daddy’s home!” which echoed throughout the apartment as well as the hallway they were standing in. the mouth-watering smell of grilled salmon filled the air, making wade hum in excitement, “do you need help with anything? taste testing, perhaps?”

“no, do me a favor and stay away from the kitchen!” your voice rang out loud and clear, sounding much like a mother scolding a teenager for the thousandth time. “i’ll stab you, do me a favor and just hang out in the living room.”

“okie-dokie!” he responded in an annoying sing-song voice, “come on, peanut, take off your shoes.” the said man could already tell how at home his roommate seemed in this place, just as comfortable as he was back home, walking with steps he’s taken many times before and prompting logan to do the same (except he was mainly keeping to himself and being much more mild-mannered in this unfamiliar area).

the place was as spacious as the small area could be and tastefully decorated, but all sharp corners of furniture were taped over to dull the edges and the carpet had multiple kinds of colorful toys littered about. in the center of it all, was a little toddler about two or three years old, playing with a kitchen set and trying to copy what her mom was doing by running back and forth between the living room and the kitchen. she didn’t even notice the two men at first, not until wade called out her name and she dropped the plastic utensils to clap her hands together before waddling over to him.

“hey, baby! how are you doing? did you miss me?” he cooed in the high-pitched voice reserved only for mary puppins, reaching down to pick up the girl by her underarms and kissing her cheek, spinning around with her in his arms as she giggled uncontrollably. “do you wanna meet the big scary wolverine while i go bother your mommy? who am i kidding, of course you do!” he then dropped her onto the couch, making sure that she didn’t bounce up too high on the cushion and hurt herself. “okay, you keep her company while i go see what’s for dessert— bye!”

before logan could say anything, he was already gone, disappearing around the corner into the sound of sizzling foods and the scent of herbs. pursing his lips together and shuffling his feet around for a second, he grunted and braced himself for the child to start sobbing uncontrollably because she was left alone with him. the first time he meets you, whom he’s heard so many good things about, is going to be when you have to kick him out with his tail in between his legs for disturbing the peace of your home.

but the cries never came, and his eyes met her big curious ones as she just stared up at him in silence. it was honestly a tad bit unnerving like she was sizing him up and carefully thinking about her next move. 

and then she started giggling like earlier, kind of a more gurgling noise of playfulness more than anything, standing at his feet and waving around her short outstretched arms to signal that she wanted uppies from him.

“oh no—“ he’s not sure why he even let out a word or protest to begin with when he knew she wouldn’t listen, but it was pure instinct since, once again, he had no idea how to handle children. although she would probably also start crying if he didn’t listen to her, so he reluctantly bent down to pick her up, holding her close to the side of his chest and nervously awaiting her next move.

she was motionless for a minute with a little hand on her chubby cheek and the other trying to clutch onto the thick leather of his jacket, eyes darting around like she was seeing the world from a new perspective for the first time even though he was a hundred percent certain wade held her like his when they are the same height.

“kitty!”

“what?”

she pointed at the top of his head, his hair tuffs specifically, and reached out to pull on one of them curiously.

“no— not a kitty!” he’s never going to escape that fucking nickname, he wouldn’t be surprised if his roommate taught her to say that before she met him in person, able to perfectly envision wade crouching in front of her with a stupid picture of him on his phone and training her to say “kitty” every time she saw his photo by rewarding her with candy or something since there is no way she associated someone who looks like him to a kitten so quickly unironically.

“no kitty?”

“no— logan, lo-gan.”

she tried to pronounce his name a few times before giving up after getting stuck in the second syllable, blowing a raspberry and going back to what she was doing earlier— finding the most fun in tugging on his cowlicks like she was trying to figure out if he naturally woke up like that with the inability to brush them down or styled them with gel every day.

he sat down on the couch, the cushion sinking under his heavyweight, and sat your daughter down on his lap instead, except she didn’t want to sit down. standing on his lap and pressing her little feet into his thighs, she began to climb onto his shoulder like he was a jungle gym, using his arms as stepping stones to reach her destination while he bent over at the waist to allow her to crawl onto his back without falling behind him.

“you’re like a little lemur,” he muttered, still in slight shock that this kid seemed to like him and wasn’t freaking out like he was the big bad wolf. he wouldn’t admit it, but it was a really nice feeling that gave him a sense of normalcy like he was just some guy rather than the killing machine mutant most knew him as. she wouldn’t stop giggling and holding onto him, which made him feel his ice-cold heart melting like snow by spring’s first touch. 

all the while, he could hear you and wade chatting away in the background: something about him needing to step away from the stove, how you needed to trust him because him starting “that fire” was a one-time thing, what was for dessert, and then taking a sharp turn when the conversation suddenly shifted to the topic of the father.

he felt somewhat guilty about listening in, but he knew that deadpool was going to tell him eventually, so there wasn’t really any harm in a bit of eavesdropping (besides, it would have been difficult to ignore considering that your baby was being very well-behaved and his hearing wouldn’t have been able to pick up on anything else.)

“so… any news about her dad?” the solemn tone of a man who was hardly ever serious a day of his life was more terrifying than anything he’d ever witnessed in his long life.

“... he suddenly wants to be a family man, i guess…”

“what the hell does that even mean?”

the sound of a knife chopping vegetables against a wooden surface slowly came to a stop followed by a sigh. “like he wants to have a family… just not with the one he already started… he’s busy planning his wedding with the girl he cheated on me with and told me not to contact him again for any reason.”

“oh my god, what an asshole! fuck that guy!”

“i can’t believe that was the guy i thought i was going to spend the rest of my life with, could you imagine? i don’t even know what i could have done wrong for him to be like this— i asked him so many times and he just said that he’s ‘fallen out of love,’ has ‘moved on,’ and that i would ‘be cruel’ to ask him to stay even if it was for the sake of our child…”

“well if it’s any comfort, he would have been on the next episode of forensic files the second i got a moment alone with him— i mean, the last time we saw him, he literally pushed his own daughter away when she tried to hug him! what kind of sociopath wouldn’t adore such a cutie patootie, especially his own flesh and blood?! ”

“it’s fine,” you hissed, gritting your teeth at the memory. “it’s not like he’s done anything to deserve getting to be called a father to an angel anyway, i’ll take care of her myself— wait… didn’t i also invite your new roommate? did he not come?”

“no, he’s in the living room, he’s been here this entire time,” he informed, taking a bite out of an apple like an asshole from a film.

“and you didn’t tell me?!!!” you quickly ran into the said area, finding logan and your daughter together on the couch. “hi! oh, i’m so sorry i didn’t come to greet you properly— and left my daughter for you to look after too— god, i’m just a terrible host!” you tilted your head, “what’s your name?”

he then realized he was staring which was rather impolite, mouth slightly agape too like a fish out of water which left a few seconds of awkward silence in between. “i-i’m logan,” he managed to sputter, “nice to meet you..”

wade raised a nonexistent eyebrow at his strange mannerisms before a wide, shit-eating grin split his face. 

“aww, baby, why are you bothering this poor old man— come to mommy, it’s dinnertime,” you clapped your hands and held them out fully expecting her to reach out and grab onto you as she usually does, but instead she looked up at you with big pleading eyes and held onto him even more tightly like a koala clinging to a branch. “oh, did you get attached already? you really are my daughter… logan, could you do me a favor and put her in her high chair while i plate everything?”

“yes, of course.”

you turned back into the kitchen, leaving the two men to follow with one holding your baby in his arms. all it took was one look to understand what he was thinking, logan didn’t need to be a telepath to know. 

“if you don’t shut the fuck up—”

“i didn’t even say anything!”

“good, keep it that way.”

love at first sight, wade has seen it plenty of times and understands it well, something so unpredictable and powerful, that it could bring the wolverine down on his knees. it’s even more potent when he trips over himself seeing you in your natural environment instead of all dressed up for a first date, slightly sweaty from the heat radiating off the stove, unkempt hair sticking to the sides of your face, no makeup or defenses up— just you as yourself to the core.

“alright, bub, let's get you seated…” it took a few tries to get her in because she refused to align her little legs into the holes of the plastic piece, but she eventually got into it just fine and he pulled up his own chair to watch you place a one of the most decadent plates of pasta with chunks of salmon he’s ever seen in front of him with a word of gratitude. 

“sorry it isn’t anything special, i completely forgot that i arranged this in the first place….”

“oh, no, it’s perfect—”

“you’re damn right ‘it’s perfect!’” wade interjected, “lemme tell you, wolvie, this simple plate of pasta is better than sex, i know damn well you’ve never tasted anything like it in all your two-hundred years!”

“well, now that you say it like that, he’s going to have high expectations and it will taste like ass compared to the actual best pasta dish he’s ever had.”

“he likes ass, don’t worry—”

the said man cleared his throat to steer the conversation back around, feeling the foreign sensation of embarrassment burning his face hit him at full force. “it’s delicious, thank you, truly the best i’ve ever tasted.”

“aw, you don’t have to say that.”

“no, he’s right, i think you really outdid yourself this time!”

the dinner was carried by cheerful conversations and fun stories, and despite just meeting you today, logan almost felt like he knew you for years and this was something a commonplace tradition between loved ones which was something he’s been yearning for for as long as he can remember. as he watches you laugh and feed your adorable baby, he can’t help but wonder about the idiotic man who was willing to throw away something so wonderful— something which would complete his life and fill the void in his heart.

“well, you two can hang around while i clean her up and put her to bed. there’s some wine and beer in—” you watched as deadpool had already opened your fridge and was digging around like a raccoon in trash before fishing out two bottles of beers and closing the door with his hips. “alrighty then, i’ll join you two in a bit.”

he watched as you disappeared into the hallway before diving headfirst into the couch next to the wolverine and handing him his beer, kicking his feet and smiling as if he was a middle-schooler at an all girls’ sleepover. “okay, so she has a solid job as an accountant, has her own place and car, is funny and pretty, but most importantly for you, single. she doesn’t like flowers as gifts, but if you gift her groceries or cleaning supplies—”

“she wouldn’t want an asshole like me,” he grunted, taking a sip from the bottle. “not when she just got free from another one.”

“peanut, i met the other guy, you’re infinitely better than him! as much as i would like to keep you to myself, i have already planned out my speech at your wedding as your best man, so just keep in mind that i’m your wingman, okay? don’t lie to me either, i know you have a little crush, and i think she does too—”

“no, she doesn’t.”

“quit cutting me off, you motherfucker!”

it was easier to try and suppress the sprouting seed of infatuation before it bloomed out of control. he didn’t want to hurt you or himself by chasing something that shouldn’t be in the first place. you deserve better, you and your daughter. you both should have someone who was younger and had the energy to be a good father and husband, not some old mutant who was freeloading off of his roommate and terrified of losing more people he cared about. if you knew about the blood on his hands and the claws embedded in them, you would probably be worried that you allowed him to hold your baby and shun him permanently. 

and yet he was already attached, sitting here imagining domestic life where he could see her grow up through the phases of life and help her navigate its complexities while also waking up next to you in his arms and seeing your beautiful smile everyday. 

maybe he won’t let that glimmer of hope die out and just hold onto it for a little while longer, allowing it to leave a little lingering smile on his weary face.

[mellowwillowy]

Being a livestock for a vampire has never sounded good until you were kidnapped by a vampire as his spouse.

TW: Yandere, NSFW, SH, and massacre

The vampire was intrigued by the puny human he ran into when he was walking around the river in the morning, testing his new potion and spell that would keep him immune to sunlight.

What was once a plan to kidnap you as one of his livestock turned into a moment where you had to nurse him because he suddenly dropped his whole weight onto you, face blistered from the sunlight.

“You are awake now.”

Your voice stirred him awake more than ever. His once droopy eyes were wide opened in shock. He didn't remember having anyone in his manor.

Your eyes were locked with his Emerald ones and he defensively squinted his eyes. You raised both of your hands, “You passed out right behind me and I had to drag you all the way from the riverbank to my cottage.”

The curtain was drawn close suspiciously, not allowing any light to filter inside the bedroom. Did you know he was a vampire already?

“Was it an allergic reaction?”

“Huh?” he asked, baffled.

“Your face was blistered because it was the only part of you that was exposed. Nonetheless, you healed really fast so there was no need for any extensive care from my herbs. You were only out for a day.”

He started to feel his face, aside from patches here and there, there was nothing wrong with it.

“Ah yes, let me get the hand mirror for you—”

Just before you could stand up, his hand grabbed yours and held you on the spot immediately. If you were to realize he had no reflection.

“Can you help me stand and get me to the kitchen instead? I'm quite thirsty since I haven't drunk in a day.”

You stared at his eyes and glanced at his pale hand. It took you seconds before you agreed to him and supported him by slinging his arm over your shoulder and walked toward the kitchen downstairs.

His eyes scanned through your cottage, it was mainly dominated by white, ornaments, furniture, trinkets, and even flowers.

“You must have really loved white, considering even having flowers that can't grow in this land.” Yulian glanced at the potted flowers. Lilies of the Valley, daisies, baby’s breath, and lilies.

At that, you only hummed and sat him down on one of the chairs. You placed a cup of water for him and returned to the sink to prepare him what he assumed to be breakfast, judging from how bright it was outside the window.

Mindlessly staring into the window, he accidentally hissed from the sunlight reaching his bare-handed hand, alerting you of his discomfort.

“Oh dear, what happened?”

Yulian flinched at the endearment term you spoke before he regained his composure.

“Nothing, I just accidentally bit my tongue.” he lied as he tried to cover his blistered hand. You nodded and turned your focus back to the breakfast you were preparing.

“Are you allergic to dairies?” you asked him. “No.”

“Thought you were one unlucky man, it seems like you are not immune to light or something like an albino. I'm assuming Your skin is very sensitive to light since you were so covered.”

He only mumbled a few incoherent words before you snapped him out of his trance with a clap of your hands, “So what's your name dear?”

“Alan-” instinctively, the man shut his mouth and took a few seconds of silence before answering you.

“Yulian. My name is Yulian.” “Nice to meet you,” you served him a plate of sandwiches, “I’m the local physician here, you’ll be staying here with me for rehabilitation.”

Yulian raised both of his eyebrows, “But I am not wounded terribly in any way.” “Perhaps not, but this is how I work. Could it be that you are not a local?”

Yulian shook his head.

“Where’s your house? Do you need to go back home to your family immediately? I can stay in your place for a few days to make sure there are no more anomalies.”

Yulian frowned, what a persistent human. It was almost annoying, breaching people’s boundaries just to sate their own curiosities. He could read you that much.

But he agreed to stay in your cottage nonetheless.

𝑰𝒕 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒐𝒖𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆.

But you had always been attentive, drawing the curtain for him when he walked out of his bedroom. Offering to hold the umbrella for him when he wanted to walk.

What was once a plain bedroom was slowly adorned by flowers, mainly baby’s breath.

The food you made or bought was also not bad. They were decent for a human but not a vampire. Sometimes he had to mask his distaste to any food that consisted of onions.

It was not easy to sneak out of the cottage since you were sometimes awake and roamed around the cottage.

But it was a rather peaceful life. There was bustling sounds and noises from the cottage, unlike his dead and dark manor.

It was bright in your cottage but it didn't hurt him in the slightest bit. Was it because it was a ‘White House’?

𝑯𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒇𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒊𝒆𝒔.

If there was something he disliked from you then it had to be your silver ring. Whenever you touched him with your hand ring, you would sometimes graze his skin with your ring.

He tried not to hiss but there were occasions when it was unbearable, just like when you were compressing him and felt his temperature.

Unlike in a few cases where he could hide his blisters, it was visible that his forehead was bleeding from the contact.

It was alarming for both of you, paranoia and fear downed him as he suspected you were testing him while shock and suspicion flashed onto your face.

There was a rift but Yulian was a great reader, he knew you did not mean anything bad and decided to lie his way out again. Alas, it's harder this time.

Another thing he didn't like about you was how you could be ignoring him for a whole day sometimes. It could be something interesting that got your whole attention or another patient coming.

Perhaps he was simply unamused by the idea of a lesser being taking away your attention from him.

𝑬𝒚𝒆𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒂𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒂𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒆𝒔.

You often strolled around the riverbank and forest, collecting herbs and wildflowers, sometimes walking down toward the village to buy daily necessities.

You didn't allow him to follow you at first, making him have to secretly follow you out of boredom and partial curiosity.

But upon week later, Yulian started to show you his interest in going out with you. It took him lots of convincing that he wouldn't fall sick from this and you reluctantly agreed to it.

For the first time, he could finally walk side by side with you instead of following you from the dark. It almost felt like his still heart was beating from excitement.

Apparently, all the villagers recognized you as a talented physician. They were all friendly to you and would do anything to help you as well.

It made something within him sting. Was it envy that he wasn't treated just as nice?

𝑽𝒐𝒊𝒄𝒆 𝒂𝒔 𝒔𝒐𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂𝒔 𝒃𝒂𝒃𝒚’𝒔 𝒃𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉.

Sometimes the two of you would sing under the moonlight as a pastime. Sometimes you would come to his bedroom at night and converse with him until he pretended to fall asleep.

Sometimes you would diagnose him. Sometimes you would tell him stories of your life. Sometimes you would ask him questions about his life. Sometimes you would cry in your bedroom.

He couldn't help but wonder what sorrowed your frail heart.

Sometimes he would enter your bedroom and observe your patterned breathing while you were asleep. It was almost as if the role was reversed. He was observing you out of curiosity and perhaps, adoration.

A human’s lifespan is as short as a stick. Not only couldn't they live long, but they were also vulnerable to almost everything.

Yulian brought his hand to cup your cheek, squeezing it just a bit before his fingers traced down toward your neck, feeling your jugular vein pulsating in rhythm with your heart. You were alive but he wasn't. You were loved but he wasn't. You were adored but he wasn't.

Was it envy that brought his fangs close to your neck? Was he envious of your life? Or was he simply being unreasonable? You stirred awake from your sleep, eyes adjusting to the moonlight that lit your bedroom. No one was in sight and the water you placed on your nightstand remained warm despite the chilling temperature.

Perhaps the envy in him was never directed at you.

𝒀𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕, 𝒃𝒆𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒊𝒇𝒖𝒍 𝒚𝒆𝒕 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒍𝒚 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒚.

The only reason why Yulian was still resting in your cottage was because of his self-sabotaging. You were a physician and he was a patient, unless he had a logical reason to stay in your cottage then he had to excuse himself.

It started with how Yulian started to fake food poisoning, burn himself from the sunlight, fake an anemic, and wound himself with the silver ornaments you had in the cottage.

But Yulian understood it was only a matter of time before your dense self realized that something was wrong and chased him out of your cottage.

Would you scream at him in fury, fear, or disappointment? He thought he was used to rejection already but something changed within him with the time spent living with you.

And he didn't want to betray your trust. You trusted him with your little secret. The secret that you were actually the village's 'Witch'.

Yulian sighed audibly as he walked toward your bedroom, observing it from corner to corner for any anomalies. It had always been a paranoid habit of his. He wanted to make sure nothing dangerous was inside your bedroom or, to be frank, your surroundings.

Yulian walked toward your dressing table and gazed into the mirror. There was not a single reflection of himself, a reminder that he was never supposed to let you live in the first place.

Yet your touch never failed to soothe his stoned heart, it never failed to make him melt under your touch. And your existence did not hunger him in any way unlike the others would.

He had learned to co-exist with you before he realized it, it was too late for him to undo this dependence and bond, let alone feed on you.

Yulian walked out and waited for you to come back from your visit to the local church. As much as he wanted to join you, he couldn't risk getting caught by them.

Hours passed and the sun sank, the moon lit the dark sky and yet not even a single sound of your footsteps approaching the cottage was heard. Yulian dissipated into thin air and teleported to where you were supposed to be but you were nowhere in sight.

The church was eerily silent to human ears but not to an otherworldly being like him. He could hear an ominous chant beneath him. He could smell the sickeningly sweet incense lit beneath him. And he could feel the mark he left on your neck that night beneath him.

The 'Witch' play ends tonight.

-

You woke up in someone's embrace, the night was lit by the moonlight above you yet there was an unbearable heat nearby.

"You are awake now."

His voice stirred you awake more than ever. Your once droopy eyes were wide opened in shock. You didn't remember seeing him.

Your eyes were locked with his Emerald ones and you stared at his eyes. He smiled at you, “You passed out amidst the fire and I had to carry you all the way from the village.”

You looked behind his back and saw a huge fire consume the village, the villagers' cries were audible despite the distance. You clutched his black robe, "Wait, no! The villagers, they need me! I need to save them!"

"May I know why?" "Because I'm a Witch, the protector of this village!"

Yulian chortled at your remarks before he smirked, "And yet you let an outsider reside in your cottage for months."

All colors were drained from your face, and your heart sank down; "What do you mean?"

Yulian sat you down on one of the rocks and knelt in front of you, his gloved hand brought your hand ring, "Observe this."

He took off his glove and pressed your ring finger to his palm, the skin blistered from the contact and you instinctively pulled away, "What was that?!"

There was a tale of vampires and you wished he would deny it.

"It was troublesome for me having to avoid the mirrors in your cottage and anything that would reflect." Hand mirror.

"I never really like the dishes you made with onions but I stomach it all because I just couldn't muster the courage to see your sullen face," Onions.

"I really hate strolling when the sun is still up because I have to carry an umbrella with me all the time." Sun.

"Though I must say I don't mind being touched by you with your ring hand because it was worth the pain and trouble." Silver.

You backed away from him and just before your back could hit the grassy ground, his arm prevented you from tumbling back, "And I must say, it took me lots of time to properly mark and make you submit to a contract with me."

Contract?

Yulian cradled your confused body into his chest, the warmth you felt was not emitted from his skin but instead, the fire that devoured all the villagers who had been deceiving you.

All of the shock that weighed upon made you succumb to unconsciousness again, mainly from stress and trauma. Yulian frowned at your limp figure as he stood up and continued walking deep into the forest to his manor.

𝑳𝒐𝒄𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒆𝒚𝒐𝒏𝒅 𝒂 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕-𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒖𝒕𝒔𝒌𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒓𝒚, 𝒕𝒉𝒆 '𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝑯𝒐𝒖𝒔𝒆' 𝒘𝒂𝒔 𝒓𝒖𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒐𝒏𝒍𝒚 𝒃𝒆 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒂𝒍𝒍𝒐𝒘𝒆𝒅 𝒕𝒐 𝒗𝒊𝒔𝒊𝒕 𝒊𝒕.

Yulian did not like the hostility that you showed him at all. The ongoing stress and trauma drowned you in the hysteria that would also make you harm yourself. It pained him that he was one of the causes of your hysteria, a hypothetical scenario would sometimes flash across his mind. What if he had not appeared in your life? Then perhaps your heart wouldn't sorrow to this extent.

Yulian tried his best to help you adapt. The once dark and grim manor slowly turned white. The exteriors and interiors were white before you could remember how it originally looked like. Flowers were blooming in the garden to your liking and a potted white flowers near you for you to adore.

While Yulian had the patience to make you warm up to him and face the reality of your life, he did not have the heart to see you suffer for so long. And as much as he wanted to change you into a vampire just like him, he'd rather not have it done unwillingly.

But time was not so kind for your age. The longer he delayed it, the older and frailer you would be.

Alas, luck was on his side when he secluded himself in his room for a long time for the first time you came here. He didn't expect you to find his presence soothing for you.

It appeared that all his efforts had made you think that his action of kidnapping you was just an attempt to save you from the villagers who tricked you into thinking that you were a 'Witch'.

You looked for him, calmly at first then frantically when you suffered from a panic attack. He didn't mean to test you but he knew well deep inside he was hurting you.

Even for a selfish and cold-blooded creature like him, he had to steel his heart before he could see you again. Everything he was feeling after he met you was his first. You brought colors to his monochrome life. You taught him that the smell of a morning was calming. You taught him how to spend his time with pastimes.

He could not find it in his heart to leave your side. It was his first time to feel alive and he was greedy, wanting more of it.

You stood in front of his chamber, waiting for him to open his door instead of avoiding you altogether.

--

"The servants took great care of you while I was away right, dear?"

Yulian never found the charm in terms of endearment, but whenever you called him 'dear', incomprehensible emotion and feeling surged into him. He still remembered the day you first called him that, it was foreign and weird to him but he didn't find it that bad at all.

You squirmed under his touch, squeezing yourself closer and deeper into his embrace while your hands clenched on the bedsheet. That was not the only thing you were clenching though, for his fingers were knuckle deep inside you.

You tried to form a coherent answer but what came out was simply a blubbering. Tears dripped down from your cheek from the way he curled his fingers, feeling your spot until your toes were curled.

You didn't know that even vampires could feel this much stimulation from sex. You assumed they just reproduced while feeling only half of the pleasure humans could have because of how cold-blooded they were.

You thought they only did it out of curiosity or memories of their past lives, or perhaps from the mood itself instead of doing it for pleasure as well.

Yulian brought his lip to yours, nibbling your lower lip why urging you to open your mouth, allowing his tongue to roam inside you while his fingers did not stop even one bit, drawing multiple orgasms out of you.

You really loved every bit of the man who once tried to kill you. The way his soft fangs felt your skin, pricking it playfully instead of sinking it deep inside your jugular vein and killing you on the spot.

You loved it when he caressed your cheek, you loved how gentle he was when he wiped the tears from your eyelashes.

You loved it when he was inside of you, you loved it when he knew every inch of your body so well to the point he could make you cry out of pleasure effortlessly.

You loved to see his cute face from how fast he came inside you but he never stopped his hip. You loved it when he kissed your face. You loved it when he intertwined both of your hands.

You loved it when he made your insides feel warm and full.

You loved him for severing the illusion of the 'Witch' inside of you. It was undeniable that Yuliad had saved you from the villagers' torturing you for accepting an outsider into your cottage for the first time.

You were simply curious of his condition and yet you were punished terribly for not keeping the said tradition. Yulian knew there was never a tradition, it simply was a doctrine for you who was a prodigy of a physician to save everyone from your village.

You were exiled deep in the forest so that you couldn't learn the life beyond the forest and village.

Yulian knew just as much when he first joined you on your stroll to the village. Everyone treated you differently as though you were a deity and you considered it to be something normal.

It looked normal to him considering they believed in the 'Witch' but Yulian knew better. You were just a human and all of these were just a doctrine from the church. To ensure the prodigy never left the village and was forever loyal to the church.

Spies were sent and he knew the church had probably noticed him as not only a weird outsider but also a vampire. It was unfortunate of you to be dragged into the church's underground and interrogated, forced to drag him to the church and had him staked to death. But you were persistent, you didn't trust them.

Just before Yulian was about to save you, you made a grave mistake of swearing on your name to make a promise with the devil to save you and your companion which was him. He knew you had always been so kind but wasn't that sort of naivety a little bit too much for a stranger like him? Perhaps this was the reason why the church wanted to force a much stronger doctrine onto you.

Their mistake was to not sense the danger that was him earlier. Your flaw was that you were too kind-hearted.

It gave him more reasons to seclude you from the world beyond the White House. His paranoia and obsession growing stronger with each day never seemed to unnerve you who were just a bright soul with a kind heart. A kind heart that was a contrast to his stoned heart.

That alone justified his paranoia of losing you. Surely you understood him right?

Author's Note: Thank you for reading this half-hearted work, I was so motivated to write a damn vampire fic but got writer's block mid-way smh. Happy 7th Anniversary to LIfE Project and 5k to this blog!

[d0rothydraws]

Part 2 of The Bet where Luke and Kieran bet you to call Sylus a good boy and then stuff happens Part 1 Here

Content: f!reader, Multiple orgasms, body worship, pet names, oral (f! receiving), aftercare

w/c: 2.3k

ao3: Here

a/n: Honestly I didn't think i would get this done as fast as I did but I was at dinner today and instead of waiting for the food like a normal person I started it and then got home and kept going until it was finished. I hope everyone likes this one as much as the first one

"You would have done the same thing if you were in my position, Sweetie." Sylus said as he looked at you, your eyes watering, lips swollen, face red from having his cock down your throat on my moments ago. Thinking you could take your time and tease him, he grew impatient. And now here you were, moments after getting face fucked about to make another damn bet.

“No, I have more self restraint than you." You said, pouting as you looked away, ignoring how raw and strained your voice sounded.

"I don't believe you." He whispered, a low chuckle. "Let's test it, shall we? Another bet perhaps?” His hand moved to grab your chin, making you look back at him. “If you win, if you manage not to touch me at all, I'll buy you that giant plushie you've been wanting.” Your eyes lit up.

“The 6ft tall one? Really? I thought you said it was ugly”

“It is ugly. But I won't be losing.” Sylus said with a smirk and you pouted. “When I win, all I want from you is simple.” He said, trailing his thumb over the bottom of your lip. “Just admit that you have no self restraint around me.”

His voice was low, quiet. Your ears tingled as you heard his words. A shiver ran down your spine and you refused to look away.

“Fine. But I won't be losing either.” You muttered and Sylus chuckled. He moved your positions so you were laying back on the bed and he was over you. His arms caged you in as the smell of his cologne and sweat filled your senses as he looked down at you.

“So feisty for a kitten who's just gotten their throat ravished.” He whispered, lips to your ear as he began. His nose trailed from your way to your neck, soft kisses against soft skin. You weren't used to him being particularly gentle. You felt your thighs push together as you took a slow breath trying to calm yourself.

As you pressed your thighs together, his knee came in-between them, spreading them again. His lips moved down your neck and shoulder, leaving a trail of red marks as he bit and nipped softly. As his lips reached the strap of your dress, he gently pulled it down.

“Let me see all of you, sweetie.” He breathed against your skin as he helped undress you. He sat back, looking down at you as your dress was diagarded. Slowly his hand moved against your spine, reaching your bra strap. In an instant it was unfastened, slipping down your arms as he pulled it off gently and let it fall beside the bed with the growing pile of clothes.

His head dipped down, the flat of his tongue dragging against the canyon of your chest. His hands gently took you in his hands as he felt the soft mounds between his fingers. His thumbs pushed against your nipples, flicking them gently. The sensation made you twitch, gasping as you watched him. He looked up at you as his eyes met yours, his lips brushing against the skin before he reached your tender nipple. His eyes never left yours as his tongue flicked out, wetting the nub before bringing it into his mouth.

You whimpered. You couldn't help it. You felt his teeth graze the sensitive skin, your hands clinging to the bedsheets in an attempt to not curl your hands in his beautiful silver hair. For a second you forgot about the bet. And you weren't going to give in that easily. Taking a deep breath you closed your eyes, arching your chest more into his mouth making him give a sound of approval.

His hands cradled and held you in a way that drove your mind to mush. His hands were rough, calloused. Big and strong. And yet, so, so gentle. As if he was afraid of breaking you. You shivered as his hands slid down your body, trailing down your sides as his body moved lower. His lips kissed down your soft stomach, feeling his breath against your skin as the sensation left goosebumps.

He took his time. Nothing he did was rushed. It was driving you insane. His hands slid over your hips, his thumbs rubbing the skin gently before hooking into your underwear. You couldn't help yourself but to look down at him, the softness in his eyes, the wetness of his lips. Your heart nearly stopped at the sight.

“You're beautiful, every scar, every so-called blemish. It makes you more beautiful to me.” He said, kissing your stomach again gently. “Say it. Say that you're beautiful. Let me hear you, sweetie.” He murmured. You blushed, biting your lip. It's not that you didn't believe it, but right here, right now, it felt so much more intense.

“I'm beautiful.” You breathed out, voice shaky. Hearing yourself say the words made a warmth flood through you, blushing as you watched his lips twitch in a soft smile. His hands slowly moved down the fabric of your underwear, his lips sprinkling more kisses over your stomach.

“Yes, yes you are, kitten. You're a very beautiful, very good girl.” He said his lips trailing down your thighs as he continued to remove the last bit of fabric, discarding it onto that pile of clothes. “You are a good girl, aren't you? You've gone so long without as much as even reaching for me. I'm impressed.” He hummed, turning to look back at you again. His head was now between your thighs, hands tracing the softness of your thighs.

You could feel his warm breath against the wetness between your thighs making you shiver. You took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You tried to pretend that his words wasn't affecting you but you both knew that it was and if anything, he could see the proof in front of him. Your core so wet from tonight's activities that it was almost hard for him to keep himself at bay when you were like this.

His lips were on you again, your thighs soft under his lips as he kissed up one side and then moved to the other. Your legs were tingling with the sensation but even worse you felt yourself clench the closer that he reached your core. This didn't go unnoticed by him.

“I wish you could see yourself, sweetie.” He breathed out, a finger slowly trailing up the wetness of your core. The sound loud in your ears as you gasped, your eyes rolling back at the faint touch. “Twitching, shaking for my touch. I wish I could keep you like this longer,” He said his thumb slowly circling your clit as you arched your body closer. “But I'm getting hungry”

Your breath stopped as his tongue licked a long swipe against your core. You whispered a curse as you felt his hands wrap around your thighs, moving them onto his shoulders. Seconds later, it felt like ever nerve in your body was filled with pleasure. His tongue moved against you, thrusting into you every once in a while. Thick rough fingers taking the place of his tongue after what felt like a century. First two, and then three. You couldn't think, every thought was about how good his mouth felt on you. How big his hands were, how long his fingers were and how he knew exactly where to curl them.

You cried out, body shaking and trembling at the sudden climax that you didn't even have time to process. He pulled back slowly after letting you ride it out, licking you clean and then his fingers clean. You were sweaty, panting as your body layed limp on the bed. Your thighs still on his shoulders as he kissed your thighs making you twitch.

As your mind started to clear you felt your heart skip a beat. You did it. You didn't touch him, reach out to him - you won the bet! Right?

“You taste so good, my little kitten.” He purred, the tone of his voice going straight back to ignite that flame inside you. “I hope you know that I'm not done.”

“I-i won right? The bet? I didn't touch you” You said less confidently than you were hoping. He chucked, looking at you between your thighs.

“We never discussed the finer details. You didn't think that I only planned to go one round did you?” He said as he raised an eyebrow. When you didn't answer he kissed the top of your thigh.

“Wait- that's not fai– Sylus!” His mouth was on you again, that damn tongue, those damn lips. It felt like fire flooded your blood as your head fell back again onto the pillow, your hands clenching against the silk sheets. The fingers were back soon enough. Your eyes crossed as you felt your hips move on their own accord, thrusting against his fingers as the wet sound echoed against the dark room.

“Fuck I can't God i- Sylus” You screamed, and as you did, your hands reached for his hair, pulling his face deeper into you. You heard him growl against your cunt as his tongue worked harder, fingers hitting that spot he knew so well his right until-

Your eyes widened as your body arched off of the bed. A cry of pleasure as you felt your whole body clench, toes curling inward and legs shaking. He didn't stop. Tears built as he continued to lick, his fingers hitting that same damn spot.

“Sylus please it feels too good it's so good it hurts I can't take it anymore.” You gasped as the pleasure built again only moments apart from your last climax. Your heart was pounding, your body shook and twitched as you clenched around his fingers almost wishing it was his cock. You moaned, gasping, the idea almost sending you over the edge.

“You can take it sweetie. You're being so good for me.” He said moving away only long enough to speak before his lips moving back onto you. Your body twitched, the sensation built more than before. Your hand tightened in his hair. Fuck the bet. Who gives a shit when Sylus was between your thighs eating you out like a man starving. You couldn't care less at this point.

It hit like a tidal wave. Your scream muffled by your hand that definitely will have a bite mark on it in the morning. It was so powerful you couldn't even move, your eyes rolled back as you twitched, whimpering nonsense about how good you felt.

Sylus kissed you softly, muttering something that you didn't quite get before leaving. The sound of rushing water from the bathroom reached your ears. Sleep found you quickly even as he picked you up, sitting you on his lap as he bathed you. You only made soft noises as he dried you off and laid you down in bed, resting your head on his chest. His hands combed against your hair, kissing your forehead before he fell asleep himself.

The next morning you stirred awake, groaning at your sore thighs and hand from where you bit, earning yourself a tooth shaped mark on the side of your hand. Sylus was still deep asleep, you weren't sure what happened after the last orgasm, but one thing did ring in your memory. You were pretty sure you lost the bet.

It wasn't fair though, you didn't set the rules first and it wasn't even his bet to begin with! It started with Luke and Kieran. For him to just uno reverse-

The sound of him groaning brought you out of your thoughts as you looked at him, moving an arm over his eyes. There was no sun in the N109 zone, but the moon could still be really damn bright sometimes. As you shuffled off the bed to go close the curtains, a hand wrapped around your waist pulling you into him.

“And where do you think you're going.” He grumbled, half asleep.

“To close the curtains. I thought the moon was in your eyes.” You said laying back down as he moved his arm off of his face, blinking a few times before rubbing his eyes.

“What's wrong?” He said suddenly looking at you with knitted eyebrows. “I can tell, there's a look in your eye.” He said, gently taking your cheek in his hand, his sleep forgotten all about.

“Nothing it's just the stupid bet. I know technically I lost but I still don't think it's fair-” his chuckle cut you off as he shook his head.

“It was just for fun, though I can admit that you are right. It wasn't even.” He said humming softly. “Get dressed and come to the kitchen. I'll make some breakfast. And maybe we can try again later.” He said, his voice teasing as he slid off of the bed, walking out of the room after kissing you gently.

You blushed, his words processing and sighed. Try again? Later? He was going to be the death of you, you swore it. Your stomach growled, keeping you on track as you stood, grabbing some clothes quickly and ran to the kitchen.

As you rounded the corner, on the counter was something you never expected to see.

The giant Wasabi Octopus plushie you wanted. The one that the bet was about, the one he said he would get you if you won.

“How- when..” you said walking to pull the big red plushie into your arms, in shock but the sparkle in your eye didn't go unnoticed.

“I had planned to give it to you anyways, as a small gift. You were going to get it either way, and besides..” he trailed off stepping closer to you, looking down as you nuzzled into the plushie. “After last night, you earned it.”

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

⋆⭒˚.⋆ Self-On Kode with Haechan ⋆⭒˚.⋆

idol!Haechan x f!idol!reader

summary: what better way to promote your new music than to do an interview with your boyfriend?! Does he know that? No!

(cw: f!reader, idol!reader)

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.

You were grinning widely as you sat in the pink chair. You bowed to the camera introducing yourself with an excited smile, "Hi everybody! I'm so excited to be here today. The staff and I have planned a bit of a prank today."

Your friendship with Haechan had started when you debuted. Haechan was one of the first idols around your age that you felt comfortable with. He was funny, nice, and was a good friend. He gave you a lot of advice on how to handle the long days, how to speak up with your company, and how to take care of yourself when it all got to be too much. And perhaps... taking care of yourself meant indulging in your friendship with Haechan, in private and in public.

The fans had surprisingly been pretty cool about both of you being close. It wasn't very often that fans got to see two idols from different companies have a genuine friendship. They liked seeing the two of you play around backstage, the random mention of each other in YouTube vlogs or lives, and the very few and far between posts you shared of each other.

When the edits evolved from 8 whole minutes of the two of you being the best of friends to the both of you being secretly in love for 11 minutes, maybe, just maybe, you both began to see each other in a new way. Maybe you guys went on a date to test the waters and maybe that date meant that the two of you became something more and maybe this video would be one of the first times you both directly acknowledged your romantic relationship. Well, beyond standard wordy posts that your companies put out to disclose your relationship.

You smile at the camera, "today I will be pranking my boyfriend Haechan. He thinks he's doing this interview with someone else and has no clue its me!"

Finally, on the other side of the wall, enters the set and sits himself in the blue chair, "Hello, I am Haechan from NCT. Today I will be using the screen name Sunshine and I am excited to figure out my partner is. I think I'll figure it out very easily."

On your side of the wall you, cup a hand over your mouth to suppress a giggle, "I'm going to be so annoying!"

"Hey," you type, biting your bottom lip to keep yourself from laughing.

"Oh, it's starting!" you hear Haechan exclaim. You phone vibrates with a message that reads, 'hey.'

"Geez, he's really boring isn't he? Let's make this more exciting!" You laugh, typing back something you don't think you'd ever tell your boyfriend to his face, "wow, I know this is a handsome man I'm talking to. Tell me, are you handsome?"

Haechan flushes in front of the pink wall with his jaw dropped in shock, "w-what?!"

You calm down a bit, not being as bold with your flirtation so that the both of you could progress the conversation. You both make small talk, talking about base level interests. Then comes the home screen exchange. You'd been preparing for this!

Since no one ever really saw your homescreens, you and Haechan had decided to have cute matching backgrounds, a cute couples selfie you'd taken together. What he didn't know, and you didn't tell him because he was so whiny, was that you had changed it. So he sent you an blurred version of his usual background, a picture of the two of you with you biting his cheek and his eyes screwed shut laughing. You knew the picture well, not only because you lived it but also because you had the picture that followed as your own background before you changed it for this interview.

Haechan's phone dropped from his hands, eyes blown wide in shock again. The staff were busy laughing behind the camera while you sat with a smug smile, listening for his reaction. "Is this real? Is this actually your background?" You read the message that had been sent to you.

"Why wouldn't it be?" You message him back.

Haechan doesn't even look at his phone again, he locks his screen and sets it on his thigh. He groans, rubbing his hands through his hair and over his face, "how do you turn someone down nicely?"

You bite your lip when you hear that. Your plan had worked, your precious Haechan was flushed and embarrassed. You type back, "do you know NCT Haechan? He's so talented and funny. I'm a big fan, are you?"

"Yeah, it couldn't be more obvious," Haechan grumbles, staring at the homescreen. He can't look at any of the apps or notifications because he's staring at his own face! A collage of pictures of him-- only him. Pictures of him from his debut to pictures of him from his last performance.

Maybe he was speaking to some kind of comedian, it was some kind of joke that happened to revolve around him. He'd watched some of these interviews before and it never worked out that one person knew who they were texting and the other didn't. This had to be some kind of strange coincidence.

He somehow expertly turned the conversation around, evading your question and changed the conversation into something more lighthearted. Then comes the first Would You Rather. The question: would you rather make a burping sound while farting or farting sound while burping?

You take a second to think, considering the question then finally send your answer, "I think I'd rather make a farting sound while burping."

"Really?" Haechan replies, "why is that? I mean I agree, but I'm curious to hear your reasoning?"

"Tell me yours first," you reply.

"Well mostly I don't want to feel the rumbling feeling of a burp in my butt," Haechan types out.

"He's so gross," you mutter as you read the screen, "he's such a guy." And yet you type out a message, "wow, that's so manly of you.."

Haechan runs his hand through his hair, "how would someone read that and find it attractive?"

Again, he doesn't address your flirting. He maneuvers around it, he doesn't want to be the guy that hurts yours or anyone's feelings, even a stranger's.

By the time the both of you get to the end of the interview having just sent the most recent pictures in your camera roll to each other, Haechan feels a horrible ball of anxiety in the pit of his stomach. You had sent him a picture of a flower from some bush outside and he had sent you a picture of the products that had been used on his face before the interview. (He'd sent the picture to you.) How is he going to handle this?!

He looks up from yet another flirty message with a look of unease, "you guys don't do these things with crazy fans right?"

The staff reassure him that no, they absolutely would not ever do anything to put him or anyone else in harm's way. His partner is just a silly person, a jokester.

You, on the other hand, are a ball of excitement to reveal yourself. The time comes to meet your partner, though you already know yours. You prop yourself on the wall, one hand outstretched against the wall and the other on your hip.

Haechan rounds the corner and sees you. You flip your hair, winking at him with a, "hey, handsome."

He falls to his knees, hand clutched over his heart while he lets out a sigh of relief and a loud exaggerated whine, "how could my own lover do this to me?!"

It takes both you and the staff to calm Haechan down, but you eventually get him to sit in the chair of the high top table and get the frown off his face. He's still pouty of course, and he lets you know so, "how could you do this to me?"

"With the help of my managers, your managers, the production here at Kode... duh," you answer, squeezing his knee beneath the table reassuringly.

"You're so funny," he deadpans, "but seriously, I was so stressed that I was going to have to see a real life crazy person and turn them down while maintaining my safety. Thank goodness it was a real life crazy person I already knew."

You shove his shoulder with a laugh, "so you had no clue who it was?"

"Absolutely no clue," Haechan confirms, "I did think that this was going to be easy at first, but you came on so strong that I had to mostly focus on getting us to have a normal, not flirty conversation. Did you have fun stressing me out, my menace?"

"The best time ever," you nod with a proud smile.

Haechan lets out a breathy laugh, more of a soft exhale of air as he pulls your hand up and pressed a kiss against the back of your hand, "I'm never doing an interview with you ever again."

"You say that now, but you're my biggest fan. Don't you want me to be successful? How can I be successful if even my handsome, sunbaenim boyfriend won't help me?" You tease, looking at him with a look all too innocent to be real.

"Oh right. Please make sure to check out my girlfriend's first solo debut. The music is amazing, her voice sounds like angels singing, the music videos are award winning, the outfits are out of this world and there is nothing like it in all the world. Please support her... or I will have to," Haechan states with a fake smile while looking right into the lens of the camera, letting his smile drop into a pleading face for the ending.

"Yes, please make sure to check out my solo! I appreciate it," you smile at the camera, bowing to show your gratitude. While you fulfill your promoting duties you miss the adoring look on Haechan's face. The way his eyes soften and he looks at you with a calm, serene look of love.

You look at him with a soft smile, "can you forgive me for my prank?"

He tugs you into his side, his arm wrapped around your shoulders, "I can make an exception if you promise this will be the last time you prank me."

"Well, of course," you answer too quickly. A lie, of course.

The conversation between you dwindles down and the two of you take your selfie. You smile brightly at the camera with your head tucked beneath Haechan's chin, Haechan smiles sweetly at the camera with his usual close-lipped smile. It's the first selfie as a romantic couple that anyone will see of the two of you and it makes you slightly nervous, but more than anything you're excited for people to see just a sliver of the dynamic you and Haechan share, the love that's there.

"Thank you to the team at Kode for having us and thank you to the fans in advance for all the love and support. I hope you love it," you smile at the cameras.

The video ends with the screen fading to black, but if fans listen closely, they can hear Haechan reassuring you, "everyone is going to love it, honey. How could they not love anything you do?"

[natasha-romanoff-off]

Flirting with fire

During an innocent dinner with friends, a playful question about Wanda spirals into an unexpected revelation.

“Don’t you think Wanda is beautiful?” Carol asked out of the blue as the four of you sat having dinner. The question cut through the casual chatter like a sharp knife, and you froze momentarily, unsure of the intent behind her words.

You turned your head to the left, locking eyes with the witch, who was already staring at you with a curious glint in her gaze. “Mm, yeah,” you replied cautiously. “She is gorgeous.”

“Thanks, honey,” Wanda said with a small smile, her tone sweet but tinged with something mischievous, almost as if she were testing the waters.

Carol, not one to let the conversation falter, leaned in with an amused grin. “Weren’t you single?” she asked, her blue eyes narrowing with mock curiosity.

Your heart skipped a beat as you realized where this conversation was heading. You leaned closer to Carol, whispering frantically, “What are you doing?” trying desperately to catch the thread of control slipping through your fingers.

Before Carol could answer, Natasha’s attention shifted sharply to you. Her green eyes were piercing as she asked, “Are you?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “Yeah, but I don’t see why that matters,” you replied, your voice more defensive than you intended.

Wanda’s smile widened as she casually speared another bite of food with her fork. “Good to know,” she murmured, her tone laced with amusement.

“And why is that?” you asked, the nervous energy bubbling up as you tried to regain some semblance of composure. Perhaps a bit of flirtation would help.

Wanda tilted her head, her lips curling into a playful smirk. “Why don’t you figure it out yourself?” she teased, her words an open challenge.

“Maybe I will,” you shot back, your voice low, as if daring her to continue.

Natasha suddenly interjected, her voice soft but deliberate. “My love, can you pass me the salt?” she asked, her words directed at Wanda. The term of endearment hit you like a freight train, leaving you confused and more than a little embarrassed.

“‘My love?’” you repeated under your breath, glancing between Natasha and Wanda. Surely, you must have misheard.

Carol couldn’t hold back her laughter any longer. “Yeah, they’re girlfriends,” she said, her amusement clear as she gestured between the two women.

Heat rushed to your face as you struggled to process the revelation. “Oh,” you stammered, feeling utterly foolish. You turned to Natasha, who was now watching you with an expression bordering on smug satisfaction. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you two were together.”

Natasha’s smile deepened, her green eyes glittering with amusement as she leaned closer to you, her voice dropping to a teasing murmur. “Don’t worry, darling,” she purred. “But if you keep flirting with my girl, you might have to start flirting with me too. I don’t bite... unless you want me to.”

Wanda chuckled softly, placing her hand gently on Natasha’s arm in a soothing gesture. “What Natasha is trying to say,” she began, her tone playful but warm, “is that there’s always room for one more... if you’re interested.”

Your heart skipped a beat, your mind reeling as you tried to process whether she was joking—or serious. Natasha smirked knowingly, her gaze lingering on you for a moment too long, as if daring you to respond.

Carol leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms with a wide grin. “Well,” she said, clearly reveling in your dilemma, “this just got a lot more interesting.”

You opened your mouth to reply but found yourself at a loss for words, the air around the table charged with possibility.

[keferon]

I should be asleep but this is consuming me.

So have this poorly thought out fic drabble idea of mine:

Prowl is in pain, hurt and agony, physically and emotionally. He shouldn't have let Jazz convince him, he should have listened to that tingly uncertain feeling on his spark about this

But dammit was Jazz so...so convincing. It pained him to realise how much he wanted to trust the organic.

What didn't help was that bastard in front of him giving him mock grief. Prowl knew he did not care at all about how he feels, he knew there was some sort of sick enjoyment to all of this.

"Sorry, he couldn't come visit again. He actually had to help out with the newest mech, in fact, this prototype had one of your own parts in it!" Prowl wanted to sob, twisted asshole.

Suddenly, something seemed to have caught the organic's attention. Prowl didn't hear it at first, but once the man in front of him turned around in confusion, he heard it, there was some sort of commotion on the other side of the door.

Suddenly, before any of them could question what was going on, the doors burst out open with an explosion, causing many tools to clatter to the ground as the ground shook.

"GET AWAY FROM MY PARTNER!" Prowl, in a weak yet desperate attempt, turned his head to look at the direction of the voice. He recognised it-

"Jazz?" He spoke weakly. That seemed to have crushed the organic's soul, his face crumbling from his previous rage, before, in a blink of an eye, it turned back to fury. Fury so strong it could kill whoever dared look.

"Jazz?!" The twisted man standing in front of Prowl's face looked offended if not straight out annoyed at the other's presence. "What are you-?" He couldn't even finish his sentence before the other dropped whatever it was he had been holding and jumped on top of him. The two fought for a while, Jazz punching the guy a few times on the face before grabbing him by the neck of his shirt and throwing him to the other side of the room.

Jazz huffed, making sure to keep his eyes on his target for a second to see if that was enough to have knocked him out. It was. And once he was sure the guy wouldn't come back at him, he turned to look at Prowl, who so far, has only made move to watch the whole thing go down.

It took a while for the mech to properly process how Jazz looked, how he looked at him. Guilt, pain, sadness, exasperation even. It almost seemed like he was...crying?

"Prowl!" His partner? Ex-partner? (He wasn't sure anymore), ran to grasp his face, and he let him, to weak to fight back like he wanted to. Then he felt it, small droplets of water fall down his faceplates, 'Oh, so he was crying'. "I'm so sorry, i shouldn't have brought you here- we, we need to get you out-" as he moved, Prowl took notice of how dishevelled the other looked, the sudden smell of iron making him realise that he seemed to be covered in blood, if it was his own or not, Prowl wasn't sure, perhaps it was both. Taking a closer look, he started to notice all the small bruises and scratches on Jazz's face, in fact he took notice of a limp on his left leg too.

The other just seemed to be mumbling to himself as he tried to free Prowl, who so far has not spoken all that much, he felt too weak and tired, and he really had nothing to say other than a simple reply to what Jazz said before but he didn’t process it till now

"You really shouldn't have..."

---

Ok that's all i have rn, bc I'm not much of a writer and idk how to write these characters so they might be a bit OOC sorry ^^;;

But feel free to like add and/or fix anything to this.

Just wanna add the note that maybe, the reason Jazz found out is bc he recognised Prowl's plating on the new mech thing they built ;)

OH MY GOD I CANT EVEN

RAAAAHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS. OH FUCK. THI s. SO GOOD AND PAINFUL IM ASCENDING TO SOME NEW UNDISCOVERED DIMENSIONS

ALSO. oh my fucking god you have galaxy brain for this. imagine the horror Jazz feels when he sees this random new robot his boss wants to test. And it’s plating is so freaking familiar. He runs his hands along the panels. And he recognises them, even repainted. Because he spent so much time sitting on them, repairing them, crawling on them with his magnets. Sleeping on them even. He sees the “scar” from the time he helped Prowl to fix his armor and welded some cracks in it.

And now the fucking plates are here but Prowl isn’t.

[jamminvroomvroom]

Hey girlll I love your blog so so so much! Congrats on the 4k bc you absolutely deserve it🫶🏼

I just had a little angsty request for Charles lando or Oscar (you can pick any you’re feeling more atm, I eat up anything ab my boys)

I saw this prompt maybe you could use - - "I can be there when you need me!" "But I did, and you weren't."

late night talking.

op x fem norris!reader

in which lando’s little sister has been sneaking around with his teammate, but it’s starting to have its challenges…

hiiiii thank u sm anon! love this request love you MWAH! so appreciative of this request and all of the others and that y’all trust me to bring your ideas to life!! i hope this hits the way you wanted it to! let me know what you think, big love 🤍

songs to set the mood: late night talking by harry styles, i love you by billie eilish, over my head by james marriott, if these walls could talk by 5sos

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!! smut, angst, fluff, a bit of hurt/comfort, secret relationship, brothers teammate trope (r is lando’s sister), fingering, morning sex, angsty needy sex, lando being an embarrassing little shit

4.1k words

sex and talking. sex and talking. sex and talking.

that’s what you do, oscar and you.

you watch him all weekend, eyes trailing his lean frame, the way his body moves under papaya fabric. then, when your brother finally leaves you alone, you sneak into oscar’s arms, room, bed, whatever’s closest.

you have your way with one another, nothing untouched, unexplored, and then you talk and talk until your lips hurt from stretched out grins and a satisfying ache sets into your spent limbs. you sneak out when the sun comes up the next day and join lando for breakfast in whatever hotel you’re in that weekend.

rinse, repeat.

you can remember the first time you saw him in real life, way back in early 2023, clear as day. you were in bahrain with your brother for testing, the sun in your eyes, and there he was. awkward, stocky, hands buried deep in his mclaren administered slacks. he was littered with moles, mousey brown hair catching the rays of light, chocolate eyes conveying cool confidence that didn’t at all match up with his uncomfortable stance. you could kiss over those moles like a game of dot to dot, tug on his strands that looked like smooth chocolate frosting, sink into his brown irises until you drowned.

lando had caught you staring, sending his elbow into your ribs, and when you turned to glare at him, cuss him out, you saw a look of warning. his eyes said: don’t you fucking dare.

and you didn’t dare, not for a while at least.

-

“o-osc.” you whine, panting through the waves of eye-watering pleasure.

he’s got you laid out across his massage table, two fingers scissoring into your sodden cunt as his thumb bumps your clit in messy circles.

it’s rare that you sneak away so brazenly like this during a race weekend.

“you gotta be quiet.” oscar shushes you, eyes flitting between your own watery pair and his fingers where they’re working you open.

“trying.” you breathe, slapping your own hand over your mouth when your belly tightens one last time. one wrong move and the entirety of the hospitality suite will know. lando will know. perhaps all of china will know. that’s how good he fucking feels.

you sob into your palm, bucking your hips wildly as you fall apart, spilling all around his relentless fingers. he fucks you through it, grinning coyly as your muffled cries subside.

“c’mere.” oscar lulls, pulling you back towards him. he kisses you deeply, smiling against your lips.

“i should go.” you mumble, pushing his hair back and raking your fingers through his hair.

oscar nods apathetically, reserved all of the sudden. you frown, stealing another quick kiss. you stumble to your feet fixing your underwear and your skirt, and grab your bag from the small sofa.

“we need to be more careful.” his words make your blood run cold.

“more careful?”

you sneak in and out of hotel rooms under the cover of night, you have his name disguised in your phone, you never speak to him in public.

“this was risky.” oscar shrugs. he looks antsy, his entire demeanour changing in a matter of minutes, the ecstasy of watching you writhe all for him worn off.

“this- i- you’re the one who dragged me in here, piastri.” you accuse. ‘piastri’ is reserved for when you’re pissed off, a cagey step back from the affection ‘osc’ that you usually called him. “whatever, i’ve got to go.”

“i’ll see you later?” he poses it as a question, uncertain that you’ll show. he has never been uncertain before, not with you, not with a lot of things. bile rises in your throat, and you scoff.

you can’t reply. the door slams behind you.

-

“where’ve you been?” lando ruffles your hair, a single eyebrow raised suspiciously.

“got bored with watching you look at data so i went for a walk.” you reply nonchalantly, pushing his hand away.

he hums in response, nodding slowly. it’s like he doesn’t quite believe you but he quickly moves on.

“you coming out with us after the race tomorrow?” lando asks.

“depends on who ‘us’ is.” you reply curtly. you don’t wanna look at oscar’s stupid, handsome face for a second longer than you have to. a familiar sadness sinks into your bones.

“couple of the drivers, alex, carlos, oh and oscar might even be swayed.” you grit your teeth, suddenly frustrated. “anyway, since when do you have beef with drivers? little miss sunshine fallen out with someone?” lando sounds confused, accusatory.

you stay silent, walking into the back of the garage, praying someone will come and steal your brother away.

“hey, you gonna tell me what the problem i-?”

“lando, we need you to look at this.” your brother gets cut off by a frantic engineer, your prayers answered, and is quickly lost to the chaos of the garage.

a pair of warm eyes burn into the side of your head. you turn to see oscar watching you, his eyebrows furrowed as if he’s studying you. he’s fidgeting, playing with his fingers, something strange for the man as cool as a cucumber. you look away as quickly as you can, managing to tear your eyes away from him, a lump forming in your throat which you swallow down.

it’s painful, really. sex and talking, it’s not enough, never has been for even a second. oscar piastri, australian f1 driver, number 81, quickly became your oscar, somewhat against your will.

-

somewhere in hungary, about 8 months ago

“are we really doing this, piastri?” you giggle, throwing your head back as his lips work your neck.

“need you.” he groans into your skin, low and needy. you’ve never heard him sound so disheveled, so desperate, a far cry from his usual, monotonous self.

“want you, osc.” you pant when his lips find your sweet spot, the feeling of him so delicious on your body.

“have me.” he whispers, falling into bed with you in his lap.

you lay there basking in stunned silence afterwards, a layer of sweat coating your knackered body. your shoulder is pressed flush with oscar’s, not an inch of space between you while you both stare at the ceiling, sporting matching lazy grins.

“i can’t believe we did that.” oscar mutters, a layer of disbelief in his voice.

“i think we should do it again.” you tease, except you are deadly serious.

“agreed.” he breathes.

“this stays between us, right?” you whisper, shyly.

“always.”

-

always makes your skin crawl now. you’re sick of having him in the dark, of having to avoid him in public for fear of turning into a lovesick fool. it’s embarrassing, really, unrequited love.

you can barely follow qualifying, staring blankly at the empty space in the garage where oscar’s car resides. you manage to catch the radio message through the headset you have on, the one where oscar’s muttering about a stupid mistake that’s just knocked him out. he’s limping back to the pits, licking his wounds.

you feel a pang in your chest, sympathetic and disappointed for him. you wonder what his mistake was, where his mind was. you’ll wait for the right moment, swallow the ache in your heart and your pride, and you’ll comfort him. he gets led away by frustrated engineers immediately, studying lines of data with furrowed eyebrows. you watch from afar, but then your heart sinks to your feet when four words sound through your headphones.

“lando, are you okay?”

will sounds stressed, repeating the four words that make your world stop spinning on its axis. everyone in the garage is staring at the tv screen, breaths held, stomachs tight.

your brothers car sits in tatters, carbon fibre littering the track. you can see the fluorescents of his helmet burrowed in the cockpit, still. your mouth hangs open, one hand clutching your chest, the other covering your quivering lips. you’re numb.

that feeling returns, the one of eyes burning into your weathered features. your wide eyes flit to the australian boy watching you from across the garage, and you beg silently for him to just come to you, pull you close, tell you that lando is okay and that he loves you back.

and lando is okay, his winded voice reassuring you over the radio.

but you stand there alone.

just like always.

-

somewhere in brazil, about 5 months ago

“what’s your favourite colour?” oscar mumbles lazily, lips bumping your cheekbone.

you’re curled up on his lap watching the sunset from his balcony. he was well behind lando after qualifying, and he’d craved a moment alone with you all day.

the air was thick, humid, the hot orange sun sinking far off in the horizon. you turn to face him, his features illuminated by the hazy glow. the sunlight makes his chocolate eyes sparkle warmly, so pretty.

“brown.” you whisper, scanning his face.

he laughs lowly, his chest rumbling.

“brown?” he questions teasingly.

“yep.” you grin, pecking his lips softly.

“why?”

“go look at those pretty eyes of yours in the mirror.” you retort smoothly, threading your fingers through his shower-damp strands.

“you flirting with me?”

“you bet i am.”

you twist back around, facing the view once more, moulding into his body. he kisses over your shoulder, resting his chin. you stay there content until the sun is gone and the stars twinkle.

-

the air in the room is thick, awkwardly silent.

he stands leaning against the desk, opposite where you sit on your bed. the lights are low in your hotel room, the imprint of your body still fresh against the mattress. you’d been crying when he knocked, eyes rimmed red, skin flushed raw.

“you just stood there.” you croak.

“love, i-“

“don’t call me that. please.”

hurt flashes across his features, but like he knows it’s not fair of him to complain, he buries it immediately.

“i just… will you hear me out?” oscar pleads quietly.

you nod feebly.

“it’s impossible. this, us. i wanted to go to you but i- i couldn’t, i didn’t know how that would look and i didn’t want to jeopardise this.”

“but you did.” you whisper. his face shatters, falling fast.

“no, no, i can be there when you need me-“

“but you weren’t!” you cry, your body physically sinking, your shoulders drooping.

“i can fix this, i will.”

“i think we need to stop this, osc. it’s too painful for me. i’ve tried to move past the hurt but after today…” your voice shakes and you crumble, the first tear falling.

“i’m not trying to hurt you.” he crosses the space between you in two rushed steps, collapsing to his knees before you.

“that’s not good enough.” you bite back. “i’m not going to be some guys dirty little secret. i won’t do it anymore oscar.”

“i was trying to protect you… this.” he gestures between you desperately

“i know, oscar. i know! but i never asked you to do that. i can’t love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life.” the words slip from your tongue, abrasive and messy, before your brain can catch up.

you grimace, biting your tongue, but oscar’s reaction couldn’t be further from your own. his watery eyes widen, pink lips pulling into a boyish grin.

“i don’t want to love you in a hotel room for the rest of my life either.” oscar whispers, tentatively taking your hands. you stare down at your slowly intertwining fingers, a familiar warmth oozing through your body. “i wanna love you everywhere.”

“show me.” you murmur through shaky breath.

“i will.” he leans in, leaning in to kiss your shoulder. “for as long as you let me, i will.”

“just come here.” your fingers find the hairs at the nape of his neck, pulling him into a kiss, one born of frustration, and longing, and a year of late night talking about everything except how much you love each other.

oscar pushes you back onto the bed, crawling over you, starving. you pull him flush against you, leaving no room between your bodies. you crave the feel of his entire weight pressing you into the mattress and as he does, you feel at home. when you pull apart, catching your breaths, he says it properly, for the first time, and the world gets lighter.

“i love you.” oscar cups your jaw, those chocolate eyes boring into yours, the intensity of it knocking you for six. “always.” he adds.

the meaning of the word changes. always doesn’t mean a shameful, taboo secret anymore. life is breathed into the six lettered word; always means you and him, together, finally out of the shadows.

“i love you, osc.” you whisper.

he’s smiling when he kisses you again, unbuttoning your blouse like he’ll die if he doesn’t get the offending item off of your frame. you retaliate by shoving his t-shirt up his back, tugging greedily at it to strip him bare. the material comes off easily and as he sits up to throw it away, you shrug off your blouse and it meets his shirt on the floor. his hands smooth over your curves, brushing the pudge of your belly as he finds the zip of your skirt, ruining the fasten in his state of haste. you barely notice the way he’s ruined the item of clothing, urgently unbuttoning his jeans. your underwear is gone too, nothing separating you but your bra, restless hands on heated skin.

“we need to be quiet.” you breathe. “lando’s next door.” oscar giggles, tinged pink.

“get on top, love.” he drawls, flipping onto his back and taking you with him.

he sits up with you in his lap, nothing anchoring either of you in the middle of the bed. the imprint of your devastated form is gone, replaced by the shape of him. you can feel the head of his cock nudging through your folds, slicking him up so that he can slide nice and deep. he trails his fingers between your legs, thumbing at your clit in deft circles, just the way he knows you like it. you’re mewling in his lap, grinding down on the pad of his thumb; it’s so good but it’s not enough.

“please, osc.” you pant, urging him to let you sink down on his cock. you can see how red it is, feel the way it throbs for you, and the need to be full of him is almost paralysing.

“come on, pretty girl. fill yourself up.” oscar mutters against the shell of your ear.

he kisses down your throat as you slide down on him, dropping your hips firm against his.

“fuck.” you cry, your forehead falling against his shoulder.

“you okay, sweetheart? feel so good for me.” oscar coos, his fingertips digging hard into your hips.

“so good, baby.” your head rolls back, feeling him hit that spot tucked away within your walls.

your breaths mingle, your breasts flush against his chest, and as if he realises that he never stripped you of your pesky bra, he grunts, unclasping the black lace and flinging it somewhere far away. he gently mumbles an awestruck “fuck”, as if he hasn’t seen your tits a million and one times before, and latches onto your nipple. his tongue works in slow circles, matching the pace of your hips working languidly on his cock, and you keen further into his body.

“prettiest girl for me.” oscar grits out, his eyes squeezing shut when you clamp down on him, hard.

you’re both trying so hard to be quiet, overwhelmed by touch and taste, love. you’re growing tired, hurtling towards a desperate release, and oscar can sense it, the feel of your quivering thighs tightening around his hips spurring him on. he grinds up into you, maintaining your pace, but he’s fucking you harder now, the anticipation of your release sending shivers down his spine.

“you gonna cum for me?” oscar grunts, holding your hips down against him. you can’t move, his hold too tight and your body too tired, all you can do is wait for your orgasm to hit like a ton of bricks. you nod frantically.

“yes, oscar, please baby.” you beg for it, and like the true gentleman he is, the calloused pad of his pointer finger finds its home on your clit, sending you into an upwards spiral.

it’s as if you’re levitating when you let go, in a dreamlike state, your teeth sinking hard into his pale shoulder to muffle a surefire whine of his name. he’s rutting into you, prolonging the bliss.

“cum inside of me.” you urge, voice barely above a whisper. well, you’ve certainly never done this before.

oscar’s eyes roll into the back of his head, tears pricking his lash line. a guttural gasp of your name spills from his lips when he lets go, painting your insides warm and white. you stare at the tiny indents your teeth had left on his thick shoulder, his breath hitting the crook of your neck warm and wet as he comes down.

“‘m yours, and i’m here. i’m always gonna be here, i promise.” oscar speaks so quietly that you wonder if you’ve imagined it.

-

“when i made that mistake today, i was thinking about you.”

you’ve been laying there in silence for a while now, tucked under his arm when he speaks. you turn to look at him, perplexed.

“what?”

“i felt so awful about what i said after we, you know. you looked so upset with me, and i don’t blame you.” oscar sighs.

“i just don’t want to feel like a shameful secret, osc.” you tell him quietly, the words heavy on your tongue.

“you won’t, not anymore. ‘m so sorry, sweetheart.” he lulls, kissing over your hairline.

“how do we make this work? and how are we ever gonna explain this to-“

“lando.” oscar cuts you off, shifting uncomfortable. “he’s going to murder me and my entire bloodline.” he chuckles nervously.

“he won’t murder you. he might put you in a gravel trap, though.” you roll onto your side, smiling teasingly up at him and he rolls his eyes.

“i’ll take the heat. you’re worth it.”

-

“promise me.” you pant, his hips grinding into you. you’re curled into his chest, still spooning and barely awake. he’d woken up needy, and you were even needier, the faint glow of early morning sunshine washing over you through a crack in the beige curtains.

“anything.” oscar stutters, his breath warm against the back of your neck. his nose bumps your skin, teeth scraping the shell of your ear.

you stop meeting his thrusts. he whines low, wordlessly pleading for you to resume. he ruts his hips against your ass, chasing friction.

“tell me it’s all gonna be different now.”

“i already told you, i-“ oscar grunts.

“promise me.” you purposely clamp down on him, a hiss sounding from between his gritted teeth.

“promise, i promise, i love you.”

you giggle, rocking your hips again, fucking yourself onto him once more.

“i know.”

“you gonna let me off the hook?” oscar pants in your ear, tugging on your earlobe with his teeth.

“still gotta prove yourself, piastri.” you moan.

he feels deeper like this and he knows it, revelling in the way he’s filled you up so perfectly. he rolls into you slowly, sliding against each and every spot that makes you squirm. you drop your guard, going limp in his arms to let him finish you off.

“you nearly there, sweetheart? you gonna cum for me, love?” his accents thickens in the mornings, husky and intoxicating. you fall apart, then, and he stays buried inside of you, the only sounds in the room your matching heavy breathing.

“i need you to get dressed.” oscar kisses your cheek.

“kicking me out already?” you feign offence, looking at him over your shoulder.

his fingers come to cup your chin, his forehead resting against yours.

“there’s something we gotta do.”

-

you’re wearing your skirt from the day before, the waistband rolled over to make up for the oscar-destroyed zipper. his hoodie that you’ve stolen almost completely covers the short skirt, and your messy hair and poorly removed makeup don’t do much to convince anyone that you’d actually slept in your own room last night.

still rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you don’t really comprehend where oscar is leading you, but when the elevator dings, signalling that you’ve reached the restaurant floor, you’re suddenly painfully awake. time seems to move in slow motion, your tummy twisting as you realise what’s about to happen.

ahead of you, tucked into the corner of the restaurant is your brother, jon, and ashley. lando is already draped in team kit, the papaya of his hoodie blaring obnoxiously for once, a warning sign.

“oscar, what-“

“i’m doing this.” he affirms, speeding up his stride.

oh my god oh my god oh my fucking god.

your heart speeds up, dropping to the pit in your belly when lando notices you, eyebrows furrowed, jaw clenched, eyes taking in the bewildering sight before him. his baby sister, disheveled and wide-eyed, and his teammate holding her hand, on a mission.

“what the fuck am i looking at?” lando doesn’t sound angry, per say, more perplexed than anything. there is an edge to his voice that you don’t particularly like, but he hasn’t started swinging yet, you suppose.

“i’m in love with your sister. like, for real. you deserve to know that.” oscar says confidently, somewhat monotonously.

lando opens his mouth, closes it. opens it again, closes it. he repeats the process a few more times, going through the motions of an emotional rollercoaster.

but then, he sighs deeply, a grin of disbelief stretching across his face. jon bangs on the table excitedly, and ash is shaking his head.

“you owe us so much money.” jon laughs, his head tipping back.

“pay up, boss.” ash sticks his hand out expectantly, smirking across the table.

“what… what?” you exclaim, narrowing your eyes in confusion.

“i didn’t wanna believe them.” lando shrugs.

“don’t blame you.” oscar chimes in, and you stare between the two mclaren drivers in bewilderment.

“are you okay with this?” you question, staring your brother in the eyes, still a bit disoriented by the entire situation. his face softens, a genuine smile lingering small on his lips.

“if you’re happy, i’ll make my peace with it.” lando’s eyes flit between you and oscar.

all of the sudden, a look of horror crosses his face, and his voice turns stern.

“but,” he inhales shakily. “if i ever, ever, hear again what i think i heard last night,” he glares at oscar, pointing one firm finger at the australian, who stands up a bit straighter. “you’re dead, piastri.”

jon and ash bite back giggles at the empty threat, and you take it upon yourself to put an end to the situation before it gets any more awkward.

“well, on that note!” you sing-song, dragging oscar away.

“and make sure you’re using protection!” lando calls out, panic stricken, big brother mode activated.

“oh my god.” you blush dark pink, speeding up, the elevator in your sights.

“that went well.” oscar quips sarcastically. he looks rather happy with himself.

you kiss him as soon as the metal doors shut.

-

you do go out after the race, but for once it’s not to drink away the memories of a weekend in oscar’s arms. this time, it’s to celebrate the fact that you can love him out loud, and he’ll do the same right back.

you’re dancing in his arms, bright lights in shades of blues and purples streaming over your bodies. oscar holds you close, keeps you wrapped in his arms, despite the shock on the faces of others at the sight of lando norris’s baby sister publicly besotted with his teammate.

when oscar kisses you deep, smiling against your lips that taste like cherry liquor, you know that this last year of your life wasn’t in vain.

you and oscar, you’re built to last.

-

“how did you not see it, mate?” charles beams, crinkles by his eyes from the wide smile he’s sporting. he’s clearly drunk, but lando is too.

it appears he’s clocked the brits sister and her australian suitor on the dance floor.

the monagasque has rocked up to the bar with alex and pierre in tow, the three of them slapping lando on the back as they arrive.

“i guess there were signs.” lando shrugs, dragging his finger over the rim of the crystal glass.

“signs? mate it was obvious.” pierre chuckles, pushing lando’s shoulder.

“wait, you all knew?” lando splutters.

yeah. duh. come on, man.

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“it’s funnier.” charles… winks? it’s hard to tell with him.

lando finds you in the crowd, grinning up at oscar like he hung the stars in the sky. the younger mclaren driver returns your look, and it sparks warmth in lando’s chest.

you’re gonna be okay.

-

hehe

-

taglist

@boysthatgovroomvroom @welld0nebaku @thegirlinthefandoms @mcmuppet @japanesekel @vinvantae @ggaslyp1 @dr3lover @smiithys  @rachstash @infinitebells @fizzpopsnap101 @gaily19 @icecoldtires @mysticalnightenthusiast @thatchickwiththecamera @oyesmendes @disneydaydreameralways @canyouseethesainz @ferrarifwendvale @fcbformulaeri @tony-stank3 @maih23 @soleilgrec @carolineworld @anthonykatebridgerton @allywthsr @iamasimpingh0e @ophcelia @lovelynikol16 @coffeehurricanes @jennx03 @blueflorals @lqvesoph @sidcrosbyspuck @better-dead-than-smeg @buendiabebeta @pjofics @kovalcin @wintergilmore3 @for-writing-shit @youdontknowmeshh @im-an-overthinker @jule239 @darleneslane @jazzy722 @weasleyswizarding-wheezes @therealone4r @pleasecallmeunhinged @theonlyadrienne

[majikkulu]

✮ ˖° ⸜ masterlist ꕤ ･

╭₊˚๑ in  this  pick-a-card  reading,  we’ll  uncover  who  secretly  has  a  crush  on  you. keep  in  mind  that  this  is  a  general  reading—take  what  resonates  and  let  go  of  the  rest.

choose  a  makeup  palette  or  the  pile  that  calls  to  you,  and  let  the  magic  unfold!  xoxo

if  you  have  any  ideas  for  future  tarot  pacs,  feel  free  to  drop. them  in  my  ask  box,  and  i’ll  bring  them  to  life! ☁️₊˚੭

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE ONE ﹑ ﹒ the  one  secretly  admiring  you  is  someone  who  guards  their  feelings  fiercely,  choosing  the  shadows  over  the  spotlight.  they’re  not  the  type  to  wear  their  heart  on  their  sleeve—they’d  rather  watch  from  afar,  quietly  absorbing  the  essence  of  who  you  are.  observant  to  a  fault,  they  notice  the  little  things:  your  quirks,  your  interests,  the  way  you  carry  yourself.  odds  are,  this  isn’t  someone  you’d  suspect,  but  their  admiration  for  you  runs  deep,  purposefully  hidden  away.  ever  had  that  eerie  feeling,  like  someone’s  eyes  were  on  you?  that’s  them.  they’re  dedicated,  a  hard  worker,  likely  someone  from  your  workplace,  school,  or  anywhere  knowledge  is  exchanged.  they  excel  at  what  they  do,  yet  they  feel  they’re  not  quite  ready  for  you.  they’re  busy  polishing  themselves,  envisioning  a  version  of  themselves  worthy  of  standing  by  your  side.  in  the  quiet  of  their  thoughts,  they  dream  of  you,  picturing  a  connection,  though  fear  holds  them  back.  what  if  they  misstep?  what  if  you  say  no?  it’s  the  “what-ifs”  that  chain  them  to  their  silence.  they  know  you  have  other  admirers—some  you  might  not  even  notice  yourself.  and  that  makes  them  hesitate  even  more,  wondering  if  they  could  ever  stand  out  among  the  crowd.  yet  there’s  a  youthful,  risky  spark  within  them,  a  spontaneity  that  could  make  them  act  on  impulse  one  day.  their  humor  could  betray  their  feelings,  a  joke  masking  something  real,  or  they  might  make  a  bold  move  out  of  the  blue.  distance  might  separate  you,  whether  physical  or  emotional,  but  they’re  biding  their  time,  watching  for  a  sign  that  you  might  welcome  them  into  your  world.  subtle  cues—lingering  eye  contact,  consistent  yet  quiet  presence,  small  acts  of  kindness—could  be  their  way  of  testing  the  waters.  their  curiosity  about  you  burns  brightly,  and  though  uncertainty  holds  them  back,  their  admiration  grows  stronger  with  every  passing  day.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE TWO ﹑ ﹒   your  secret  admirer  is  someone  youthful,  brimming  with  energy, possibly  a  bit  younger  than  you or same age as you.  they  radiate  a  spontaneous  and  adventurous  vibe,  always  finding  ways  to  be  near  you,  even  if  subtly.  they  might  light  up  with  uncontrollable  excitement  whenever  you’re  around,  their  impulsive  nature  making  them  act  without  much  thought.  yet,  despite  their  boldness,  they  lack  the  confidence  to  openly  reveal  their  admiration,  choosing  instead  to  drop  hints  and  cautiously  test  the  waters.  this  person  loves  to  engage  with  you,  perhaps  through  light-hearted  conversations  or  endless  questions,  as  a  way  to  bridge  the  gap.  though  they  might  come  across  as  carefree  or  reckless,  beneath  the  surface  lies  emotional  depth.  they’re  compassionate  and  far  more  mature  than  they  let  on,  but  they’ve  mastered  the  art  of  keeping  their  feelings  under  wraps.  their  calm  and  collected  exterior  can  be  misleading,  as  they  feel  things  deeply  but  prefer  to  guard  their  vulnerability.  they  might  support  you  in  small  but  meaningful  ways—offering  advice,  cheering  you  on,  or  simply  being  a  steady  presence  in  your  life.  yet  there’s  a  hint  of  pain  in  their  past,  disappointments  or  regrets  that  make  them  cautious.  rejection  is  a  fear  they  can’t  shake,  and  they  won’t  risk  emotional  exposure  unless  they’re  sure  you  might  feel  the  same.  if  this  admirer  is  from  your  past,  they  could  be  carrying  a  wish  that  things  had  played  out  differently.  their  curiosity  about  you  runs  deep,  so  much  so  that  they’re  likely  keeping  an  eye  on  your  social  media  or  gathering  tidbits  about  your  life.  though  their  hesitation  holds  them  back,  their  feelings  for  you  are  steady  and  real.  whether  it’s  through  quiet  support  or  the  way  they  always  seem  to  be  nearby,  their  admiration  is  a  constant  presence,  waiting  for  the  perfect  moment  to  be  revealed.

﹒ ﹢ ♡. PILE THREE ﹑ ﹒ the  person  secretly  liking  you  is  someone  who  has  built  walls  around  their  heart,  shaped  by  past  heartbreaks  or  emotional  struggles.  they've  been  hurt  before,  and  now  they’re  hesitant,  guarding  themselves  carefully.  they  don't  want  to  experience  that  pain  again,  so  they  tread  cautiously,  trying  to  figure  out  if  you’re  someone  they  can  trust.  even  if  they  want  to  approach  you,  something  holds  them  back.  this  person  is  likely  still  healing  from  past  wounds,  whether  from  a  bad  breakup,  rejection,  or  something  else  that  left  a  scar.  they  might  be  emotionally  tender,  yet  still  hopeful  for  love  despite  everything  they've  been  through.  in  their  quiet  moments,  they  daydream  about  ways  to  connect  with  you,  but  fear  and  uncertainty  overwhelm  them.  the  fact  that  they  know  you  have  other  options  only  intensifies  their  hesitation.  they  question  whether  they  should  confess  their  feelings  or  continue  admiring  you  from  the  shadows.  they  find  themselves  caught  in  a  cycle  of  indecision,  overthinking  every  possible  outcome,  unsure  if  you’d  feel  the  same.  yet  beneath  their  reserved  exterior,  there’s  a  spark  of  impulsivity,  a  part  of  them  that  might  eventually  push  through  the  doubts.  in  a  moment  of  spontaneity,  they  could  reach  out  to  you,  sending  a  message,  sparking  a  conversation,  or  even  confessing  directly.  though  they  try  to  hold  back,  there’s  always  a  chance  they’ll  act  without  warning,  surprising  you  with  their  sudden  courage.

[eccentricallygothic]

Sunshine

Pairing: Recovering Winter Soldier!Bucky Barnes | Lab technician!You.

Description: As Shuri's top and most emotionally intelligent technician, you are the one Bucky ends up opening up to during his recovery in Wakanda… And then some.

Warning(s): Top Bucky, bottom reader, his vibranium arm, inexperienced reader, experienced Bucky, dirty talk, pet names, fingering, allusions to unprotected p-in-v sex, nipple biting, kissing, virgin reader, smut with plot, reader and Bucky like each other, brief mentions of his Winter Soldier days, age gap, teasing, humiliation, size kink, allusions to dacryphilia. Minors do not interact.

Type: Request by @imagine-all-the-fandoms, here.

Note: Can you tell I am obsessed with the arm?

MASTERLIST

.

It was usual for Bucky's corner of residence to remain deserted. He was still relatively new to Wakanda and people had heard enough tales about his past life to not welcome him with too much hospitality. They didn't take too warm heartedly to outsiders as it was. And a former killing machine was… well, you guessed it. But you were not sure that Bucky really minded. Apart from the bond he had formed with you -very slowly and steadily, might you add- during his therapy in Shuri's lab, you had observed he preferred being by his lonesome and did not mind the isolation.

The more you found out about him, the more you reckoned he probably needed it.

That was the reason why you felt guilt nip at your cheeks when you heard some leaves rustle behind you and when you instinctively turned to see what it was, you found no one other than Bucky staring back at you. Momentary panic settled in your bones but before you could try and ramble your case and embarrass yourself any more, Bucky offered you a small and friendly smile. You had no idea what it was about him that made you all shy and mum because usually you were a very confident and forthcoming person. You were Shuri's top technician after all. But there was something about the way Bucky's blue eyes watched you, how they flickered down your face just momentarily at times, the manner in which his lashes flexed if he looked further down south, and how his tongue subconsciously swiped across his lips during a conversation sometimes. 

It spread warmth throughout your whole body.

… Like right now.

“The… stars are so bright tonight” you tried your best to mask the awkwardness with a casual amiability. What? Bucky made you feel nervous, alright?  

The male only hummed in agreement as he quietly took a perch beside you, letting his longer legs down the edge of the lake that ran behind his cabin and letting his now bare feet touch the water that everyone used for swimming and fun.

The two of you stayed like that for a little bit, Bucky had never been much of a conversationalist in all the time you had known him and it was always you who had to prompt him to speak or engage in casual talk or even a discussion. A content smile played at your lips while you gazed up at the stars. You liked his corner of the land. It was very calming and serene. Perhaps even more so than the rest of Wakanda. Or so you felt.

It was Bucky's corner after all.

“So… how's the new arm?” You nodded towards the black and gold vibranium arm that the lab had finalized after various meticulous precautions and measurements while giving him the best mental and even physical therapy possible all the while. Shuri had called in Bucky this afternoon to finally install it into the socket you and other technicians had built into his side. After one last test to see if his HYDRA conditioning really was gone for good, it had been you who had with the use of tender and nimble fingers locked the arm into place. It had been a rather emotional moment and you were the only tech Bucky had allowed to touch him. Since he had never been allowed any liberty in his past life, Shuri made sure you all respected the man's comfort first and foremost.

You could never have a problem with that. 

“Pretty good, actually” your eyes followed the glint of the moonlight bouncing off the bionic limb as he flexed his fingers and slowly twirled his arm for you to see. “More comfortable too” you were a nerd so it got you excited. And no, the fashion in which the digits of his new hand had stretched had nothing to do with it.

“Yes! Shuri actually wanted to use…” You began the technical ramble Bucky didn't really understand but didn't mind either. “I suggested we instead use…” And it wasn't sympathy humming either, you had learnt that the Soldier had retained his sassy side and if you were boring him out, he had his quiet ways of giving you a shut up call. “Because I knew that it would bite on your skin…” You hadn't realized just how close you had scooted into Bucky and the way you were cradling his vibranium arm and its various crevices while it laid in your lap until his hot breath fanned some of the stray strands away from your face. “S- So…” Your voice wavered from the hyperawareness all of a sudden, eyes flickering down to his lips before you could stop them and your no longer coherent words quivered. “I- I… she… we…” A breathless chuckle escaped him.

“Y/n?”

“Bucky?” You tried to focus and as a result ended up widening your eyes so much that you looked like a fish out of water. What? Straight A bookworms like you didn't enjoy the luxury of knowing their way around the sex of interest. 

“Shut up” his words were outwardly blunt but the tone in which he said them, the half smile which made his lips handsomely droop to one side and the manner in which he leaned in soon after stopped you from getting offended just in time. Though you couldn't really visualize yourself getting mad at him anyways. 

“Okay, Bucky” was all you were allowed to blurt out before his pleasantly soft lips pressed against yours. You whimpered into his mouth from how tender the kiss was and how delicate he was about it. You had no idea what you were expecting and if you were even expecting something, but something so soft coming from a man with a stature like Bucky's, you were taken by a pleasant surprise. The kiss was warm and meaningful.

… But way too short. 

You gasped once you came to your senses and realized the gravity of the situation. You were kissing Bucky fucking Barnes! The kiss had been rather brief– too brief, but it had also felt like an eternity at the same time due to how your brain had declined you of its service.

Bucky was taken aback by your gasp and now a guilty panic began to mar his handsome features. “I… am sorry…” He wasn't as inexperienced as you but there were generations and years of lack of practice between you two and self doubt began to fill him. “I–” you vehemently shook your head when he began to back away.

“N- No! No, no!” You repeated desperately. “No, Bucky!” You finally had him after months of secret wondering and longing and you were not about to let it go. “No!” So you leaned in yourself this time and hurriedly pecked his lips before pulling back a little to look at him to see if he was still comfortable with it. The next kiss you pressed to his lips was admittedly one that caused for guilt to knot up in your chest because his expression had been difficult to read and in case he didn't want to take this any further, you needed to feel him one last time. 

Bucky wordlessly kissed you again and you didn't give him a chance to back away this time. And after that it was a passionate tussle of your hands and lips pulling and sucking down at one another until you were both undressed in Bucky's bed, tangled together. 

Bucky's vibranium fingers cupped the side of your face as he put his hot tongue into the kiss. You were laying down on your back in the middle of the bed and his huge form was bent over you, one knee pushed between your legs. The man knew how to kiss and he certainly knew how to eat, it was clear from how his tongue pressed against yours before it went to explore the rest of your mouth. The way he swirled it around your own sent heat and shivers down your abdomen and straight to your core that had begun to pulsate when you were still outside. 

“Tell me, doll,” his guttural voice made you moan into his mouth when he let his bionic fingers trail down the side of your body before they found a hold in the soft cut between your hip and torso. “Did you fantasize about me touching your pretty body like this when you used to ‘inspect’ the arm, hm?” You blushed severely. Bucky knew a slut when he saw her. Even the shy little inexperienced ones like yourself. He was twice your age and had ten times more experience. 

“B- Bucky…” You felt called out as your ticklish palms -courtesy of his stubble- began to moisten up from the shame his words made you feel. 

“Are you really gonna deny it?” His voice was low and sexily lewd. That tongue of his did the sexy thing again where he ran it along his flush lower lip and your thighs quivered in response to the visual. “Because I've seen the way you used to look at it… The way you looked at it today…” Images of him flexing his fingers as trial from earlier today appeared before your eyes and you couldn't help but wonder if you would feel them tonight. Or how they'd feel if one was to get lucky with him. The thoughts made you want to tighten your thighs against one another, only his knee hindered your wishes. 

“Bucky…” It was a whine this time and he chuckled. 

“Aw, what is it, huh baby?” He hungrily kissed your lips again before he pulled back just enough so he could be audible but not so much that the spit string between your mouths would break. “Tell me and I'll give it to you” you surprised yourself by placing your hand over his and eagerly pushing it down towards your aching pussy. Bucky snickered. “Is that what you want, pretty girl? My fingers in between these sexy little legs of yours?” You sheepishly nodded but said nothing, rolling your hips from the surge of lava his deep voice was causing in your loins. “I am sorry, baby. But this won't do” he clicked his tongue as he pretended to pull away. 

“W- What?!” Your imploration was unintentionally loud. “Why?!”  

The coral of his eyes had become so much darker than when he had first kissed you. “Because you must use your words for me first” his body weight rested on his elbow as he stroked your face with his right hand, speaking in the tone of a man addressing a child. “Tell me what you want” his metal fingers kneaded the tender flesh of your hip as his lips pressed against you in a series of pecks. 

You softly pouted. “B- Bucky!” The whine you let out was accusatory in nature. Because he knew exactly what you wanted. 

“Aw” he mimicked your pout. This man was so different from the recovering sunshine you had known before this night. The disparity caused for a drop of hot arousal to bubble past your opening. “Would you look at this pouty little thing here?” His thumb traced the shape of your bottom lip before he pressed it down with the tip. 

“P- Please…” He was being so mean. It embarrassed you. But it also added to your arousal. 

Bucky was making you work for it. 

“I know, baby. I know…” He pressed kisses along your jaw in consolation, metal fingers coming up to toy with the swells on your chest. “Pretty things like you aren't used to putting in much work, are they?” Well, no. Simply because this was the most action you had ever gotten. But it made your pussy throb nevertheless. “Well, that's not how things work around here, baby. You gotta tell me how you want me first” you whined past the thick bile in your throat but Bucky did not relent, instead choosing to intently watch you until you caved to him and your need. 

He could do that for the rest of eternity anyways.

“F- Fine…” Your voice was a begrudging whisper once you realized there was no way out. 

“‘Atta girl, go ahead…” His voice was a much agreeable velvet. 

“N- Need you…” You cleared your throat since you were barely audible. “Need you, Bucky” your back arched in shock and a whimper escaped you when you went to place your smaller hand on his bionic one to guide it to your pussy only to him twist your nipple that he had been fingering at the very last moment. 

“I am sorry, what was that?” The clamber in his breathing rate signaled that he had heard you loud and clear. But he just wanted to be cruel to your dignity. 

You were on the verge of tears. “Need you, Bucky!” Before you forced his hand down your body again. “... D- Down there!” The lower part of your abdomen was thumping like it did when you had first discovered the state of arousal. 

“Down where?” You felt like screaming at the tease in his tone.

“Y- You know where!”

“Do I?” 

You hissed. “Down there!” You made him cup your pussy. “Here! Right here!” Your breath quivered at the feel of the metal brushing past your sensitive petals. “B- Between… between… Ah!” Your blood curdled at the wanton moan you let out, surprised by your own ability to make such a sound. 

“Oh, so you mean this cute little pussy, huh?” His bionic digits finally spread themselves over your needy core and your mind nearly melted out of your ears. 

“Y- Yes!” You breathily admitted, flinging your head to the side as you gripped his shoulders from the sensory overload, your hardened nipples grazing against his hairy chest. 

Bucky tutted like the teasing asshole he was. “You gotta say it, baby” his fingers squished their way between your pussy lips and the feel of the textured digit running down the stripe between them had you shuddering. “Say it properly. Tell me you need me in this cute little pussy of yours” when you whined in protest, he licked a stripe on the side of your mouth and then sealed it with a hot kiss. “You can do it, pretty girl. You're already doing so well for me” his words had caused you to make a puddle of warm white liquid on his bed. But Bucky didn't seem to mind. “Come on.” 

“N- Need you in m- my…” Your throat dried out and your voice remained absent until Bucky hummed in an encouraging manner and dipped his head between your head and shoulder to pepper kisses along your sensitive throat, metal fingers flexing over your pussy in a rapid, circular design. Your smaller body quivered under his, knees buckling up to press into his sides from the sensitivity of it all. “Need you in my c- cute little pussy so bad– oh!” Your back jerked itself straight when Bucky's middle finger found its way into your weeping cunt all of a sudden.

“Sorry, whose cute little pussy?” His friendly smile had any intentions but.

“M- My cute little pussy!” Your toes curled at your own words.

“See, baby?” His teeth that were busy marking you his grazed against the soft skin of your neck. “That wasn't so hard now, was it?” 

“Oh, Bucky!” He scooped you up against his chest with his other arm and crawled with you until your head was on his pillow and he was hovering above you. Your lips were parted and your balmy pussy was tight around his finger that fucked in and out of you as a steady pace. 

“I think we have ourselves a problem here, doll” Bucky rasped as he tickled your clit with thumb, adding another finger to your opening. You were so wet that despite the tightness of the band, the metal digit slid right in. 

You couldn't help but rock your hips against his hand, your own stroking his arm that rested on your torso while he played with your nipples. “W- What problem?” Any volume above what classified as whispering was impossible for you in your lust dumb and still shy state.

“Your pussy is too tiny for me” and that night you lived to learn that he was right. 

Minutes– no, hours had gone into Bucky opening you up and preparing you for his girth, shushing and consoling you with kisses and praises before your taking. Though you had been insistent that he not stop what he was doing because of how good it felt, tears and snot had admittedly been spilled. 

But the way his thick cock had filled you up to the brim so completely, the manner in which all its crevices had pressed against your tight velvet walls, the fashion in which his tip had created for itself a sensitive spot deep up your cavern, the affectionate and intimate style in how Bucky had snaked his vibranium arm around your form to hold you close against him while his hips had done their eventually brutal work and the length of his cock had rapidly fucked in and out of your stretched out cunt, your fingers tugging at his dark locks whilst his mouth marked you everywhere he desired, the pleasure you felt from the sting his mouth produced, and the bobbing of your knees which lay atop his against his sides… the orgasms had been loud and many. 

Though when the two of you exited his cabin the next morning and entered the line of sight of your employer who was both surprised and impatient by your being late to work for the first time ever, the mangled expressions of passion from the night before were present on neither of your faces, content smiles having replaced them.

You had high hope it was going to stay that way.

.

[pearlymel]

Closer

Pairings: Veritas Ratio x fem!reader

Synopsis: kissing your boyfriend for the first time turned to a makeout session. (Suggestive towards the end)

Wc: 1.5k

⊰⊹ฺnotes: idk what possessed me to write this but i think abt kissing ratio stupid atleast 69 times a day.

Amidst the hushed comfortable space and flickering candles in the living room, Veritas Ratio rests serenely on the sofa with his legs crossed as he holds a book he occupies himself with, reading it silently and carefully, focusing on each word with absolute preoccupation before he feels the empty space next to him sink with a familiar figure.

He hums in acknowledgement at your presence, although his eyes still not prying away from the book.

But then Veritas feels like his brain went short circuit for a brief second when he felt you leaning ever so closely to him on the couch. Your hands drawing closer and closer until your fingers slowly start intertwining with his, and he accepts it. Naturally. It's just holding hands with his partner.

But then you move closer to him, thighs already making contact, and how he is certain you want something from him. So he diverts his eyes away from the book, giving you a quick glance of his eyebrow raised and you just smile innocently in return. He blinks twice before returning back to the book.

Maybe you just wanted his attention as usual, perhaps tell him about your day or--Oh, but then your other unoccupied hand takes his chin with your thumb and index, turning his head back towards your attention.

He's surprised, looking at you with his eyebrows furrowing and before he could ask, you beat him to it.

"Y'know we've been dating for quite a while. Right, Veritas?" You mutter his name oh so softly that when it reaches his ears, his heart begins beating a tad bit faster than usual.

You start caressing his cheek, your thumb brushing over the apples of his cheek before sliding it down to his lower lip while you study his tensed expression that slowly starts relaxing.

Ratio's eyes flutter shut as you caress his cheek, his mouth trembles underneath the gentle, languid touch of your fingers against his lips, betraying a subtle shiver of desire he can scarcely suppress.

Finally opening his eyes to meet yours, a touch of vulnerability is faintly detectable in his gaze, a display of uncertainty that he hurriedly conceals behind a half-lidded gaze.

"Yes..." Ratio responds quietly. "...We have."

"And you know how much i like you," you carry on, eyes no longer focused on his gaze but instead watching at the way his lips part slightly.

Ratio's gaze darkens as you fixate on his lips, his breath hitching slightly in response.

"I am aware," he murmured quietly, the corners of his mouth twitching faintly as he attempted to maintain his composed façade.

You can't find anything more to say because you are so focused on the shape of his lips, studying every breath he takes that only makes your lips curl.

Your eyes find his again, leaning in further, your keen eyes searching for his consent.

Ratio's usual self-assuredness returns, a sly flicker in his eyes as he gives a slight nod, consenting to your silent question.

You tilt your head, eyes focusing on his lips before closing them when your lips press together for the first time, testing the waters of the kiss, trying to hesitantly feel your lips together.

There is a flicker of surprise in his eyes, his composure momentarily faltering as he leans into the kiss. Ratio's lips mold against yours, hesitant and testing at first, a slow and languid movement as he explores the feeling of your lips on his.

You squeeze his hand nervously that was still interlaced with yours. After all, it was you who tried initiating the kiss on a random evening.

A soft exhale escapes his lips against yours, the book long forgotten as it drops from his hand and to the ground with a thid thay both of you don't seem to care about. His now free hand moves to cup your jaw with gentleness, yet the touch also firm.

You feel encouraged at the touch, it makes your shoulders relax, allowing yourself to melt into this first shared kiss.

He senses the change in your body, the tension leaving your frame and being replaced by a gentle surrender. Emboldened by this, he deepens the kiss, his hand on your jaw moving up to hold the back of your neck, firm yet gentle. Guiding you even closer to him.

You were caught off guard by the sudden eagerness. Your blood was quick to rush through your face, reaching to your ears before both of your part with a deep breath.

You give him slightly wide eyes, his half-lidded eyes dropping back to your lips. And just when you thought the kiss has ended, he brings his hand back to your jaw, his thumb now imitating your previous actions, brushing against your lips before parting them gently.

You pray that he doesn't notice just how red your cheeks have gotten.

Veritas was quick to take advantage of your parted lips, his tongue delving into your mouth with deliberate intent, his hand slithering it's way back to the back of your neck.

The air around you thickens with a charge of electricity, his breathing becoming more ragged as the kiss heats up, a low, guttural sound emanates from deep in his throat, his fingers curling into your hair, their grip firm though not painful. Veritas's usual composure is discarded, replaced by a passionate fervour to which you welcomed, arms wrapping around his shoulders for further closeness between them.

He responds to your action with a low groan, his hand that was holding yours now snaking around your waist, the kiss deepens further, his tongue sliding against yours in a sensual dance, his body practically trembling with raw and unbridled hunger. His lips moving more urgently against yours to which a soft gasp escapes from you when he confidently pulls you to straddle his lap, your lips pulling away from his with flushed cheeks.

"I didn't mean--we can go slow--" you stammer, but you are met with eyes dark, full of desire as he gently maneuvers you into his lap, a shiver of excitement coursing through him at your proximity. He tightens his grip on your waist, holding you firmly in place, his muscles taut with tension as he fights to restrain himself.

"How come we've never kissed before? Is it that you're perhaps nervous because of me?" You manage to tease. Chuckling quietly as you looked down at him, admiring the way he was panting softly. His cheeks flush slightly, embarrassed that his earlier vulnerability is now made known.

"I was not nervous," your beloved protests, though the slight shakiness in his voice betrays him, though your hands now caresse his cheeks before leaning in to pepper soft pecks on his face.

"I was just... careful. I didn't want to overwhelm you."

"Would you like to kiss me again?"

He snaps his eyes back at yours in response, his eyes darkening with a primal want as he gazes up at you.

"I would be an idiot to say no," he replies, his voice low and tinged with hunger. "I want to kiss you more. I want to kiss you until you can hardly breathe. I want the feel of you, the taste of you. I want you." His fingers grip your thighs, their grip tight as he struggles to restrain himself, while your breath is caught in your throat when you sense that hunger in the tone of his voice. One unfamiliar but you can get used to.

You instantly crash your lips eagerly against his this time, and he responds to the kiss with a ferocity that borders on desperation, his lips moving against yours with a frenzied and unrestrained desire as he pushes his tongue inside your mouth, his teeth nipping at your lower lip in a silent command for more.

And you respond by slowly grinding your hips further into his lap, a guttural groan rumbling in his chest at the slow grind, and it was enough for him to break the kiss momentarily, gasping for breath as he looks up at you with dark and dilated pupils.

"Do you have any idea," Ratio grits out between clenched teeth, his voice deep and strained, "what you're doing to me right now?"

Before you could even get the chance to answer, his lips find the sensitive skin of your neck, teeth grazing the soft skin and sucking on the flesh there as he attempts to regain his composure. A soft moan emits from your throat as your hips find a slow pace of grinding against his clothed cock that you could've sworn you felt it throb and twitch under the fabrics of his pants before he firmly and tightly grasped your hips to halt your any other sorts of movements.

"Don't start something you can't finish." He gives you a sharp look and your lips curl upwards in return.

"Who said i wanted to stop, doctor?"

(doctor, you're huge-!)

[writer-freak]

Asking you out | Valo men x Gn reader

Characters: Gekko, Chamber, Sova, Yoru, Phoenix, Cypher, Omen, Brimstone, Kay/o and Habor

Warning: Gn reader, fluff, maybe ooc, english isn't my first language

A/n: I decided to go back to my roots and write some headcanons for Valorant. Haven't written for them in some time and I'm not up to date with the current lore so sorry for inaccuracies

Thank you for reading and Comments, likes and reblogs are always appreciated and really motivate me to write more <3

Gekko

Gekko is usually chill, so he’d be more low-key when asking you out.

One day you’re hanging out, Wingman chilling on your lap, and he just casually drops it

“Yo, maybe we should, like, go out on an official date?”

He’s trying to seem nonchalant, but the way he scratches the back of his head gives his nervousness away

When you agree, he lights up, his eyes wide with excitement and a big smile on his face

“Sick! Let’s grab something to eat!”

He’d definitely text his mom right after and would update her on how everything went

Chamber

Chamber has always been smooth, always flirting like it’s second nature

But when he asks you out, it’s a bit different

You’re used to his flirty remarks, but this time, after a successful mission, he walks up and asks

“If we succeed today, how about we celebrate together? Maybe dinner, just the two of us?”

His usual cockiness is a bit toned down, and there’s a vulnerability showing in his voice making it obvious he actually cares about your answer.

When you say yes, he recovers quickly with a grin, “I’ll consider that a victory, then.”

Sova

Sova is more straightforward and doesn’t really beat around the bush

After a long mission, he’d find you alone, pulling you aside. “You know I value you more than just a teammate, right?”

He’s nervous, but he says it calmly, watching for your reaction

If you tease him about being a softy, he’d chuckle, cheeks flushing slightly, before responding

“Perhaps I am soft… but only for you.” He’ll suggest something outdoorsy as a first date, like a quiet night under the stars, just something close to nature

Yoru

Yoru’s got a reputation for being cocky, and he’d play into that even while asking you out

“I heard you’ve been into me for a while now?” he’d say, smirking, trying to act cool

He’s testing the waters, but there’s a slight hesitation as if he’s waiting to see if you’ll reject him or call out his bluff

When you agree, he’ll act like it was no big deal, “Yeah, thought so,”

But then, his smirk softens slightly, and he looks at you more seriously. “So, how about we make it official? I’m asking you out—me and you, a proper date.”

If you agree, he’ll play it off cool, but you’d still catch the pink on his cheeks before he quickly changes the subject

Phoenix

Phoenix doesn’t like wasting time, so he’d ask you out while you’re the two of you were joking around together.

“Hey, let’s stop messing around and go out for real,” he’d say, flashing that bright grin.

“I’m serious though. Gonna be the best date of your life, I promise.”

His usual confidence is there, but you can tell he’s nervous from the way he messes with his jacket collar

When you say yes, he practically lights up—“Aight, bet! You won’t regret it.”

Cypher

Cypher’s approach is more subtle

He waits for a moment when it’s just the two of you, maybe working on something together

He’ll lean in slightly and say in a low voice, “I’ve come to enjoy our time together... Perhaps you’d also like something more?”

His tone is cautious watching for your reaction, but you can sense the warmth behind his words

When you agree, he smiles behind his mask

“I had a feeling you’d say that,” he’d say, his voice softer. “How about dinner—just us?”

Omen

Omen is less direct when it comes to asking you out

One evening, after sitting together in silence, he'd hand you something small that he knitted himself

“This is for you.” he’d say in his usual low voice

If you ask him why he was gifting you this, he’d simply reply, “I want to be together with you.”

When you agree, there’s no visible smile, but you’ll feel the shift in his energy, warmth that shows that he is happy you accepted

Brimstone

Brimstone is all about professionalism, so he’d be more cautious about showing public affection.

If you’re already close, he might approach you after a mission, saying, “I’ve been thinking… maybe we should spend more time together outside of work.”

He’s straightforward, and his voice is calm, ready to accept your rejection

If you agree, he will give you a small smile.

“Glad to hear it. Let’s keep it between us for now, though.” He’s the type to plan something simple but meaningful—dinner at his place, maybe

KAY/O

KAY/O is logical, and while he’s sentient, human emotions can be tricky for him

He’d approach you one day, saying, “I have observed our interactions. I believe it would be beneficial to further explore this connection.”

It’s a bit robotic, but you can tell he’s trying

If you agree, he’d probably show a small heart symbol on his display, acknowledging the sentiment behind it

“Thank you. I will strive to meet your expectations,” he’d add, with a surprising amount of sincerity

Harbor

Harbor’s positive energy is contagious, and he’d be warm and positive when asking you out.

“You know, we always have a good time together,” he’d say with that bright smile of his.

“How about we make it official? Let me take you out properly.”

He’s all about showing affection, and if you agree, he’ll be beaming.

“You won’t regret it. I’ve got some amazing plans for us.”

He would make sure your first date is filled with fun and laughter

Divider by: @saradika-graphics

[snoopyiz]

‘ lovesick ’ feat. manon bannerman

MANY/N (lsfm!reader) PROVING ENEMIES TO LOVERS EXIST FOR THREE MINUTES STRAIGHT

⌗ CLIP ONE (when yn flipped off manon during live)

“alright! for your first challenge you guys will be doing a simple game of charades, if you don’t know how the game works come to me and I’ll explain it!” the director halfly shouted, handing yunjin the cards.

you stood huddled in a group with your members, meanwhile katseye was in a different group not too far from yours. out of the corner of your eye you make out the familiar brown braids; which could’ve only really belonged to one person.

you quickly turned your head and focused on the now starting game. the word ‘fearless’ appeared onto the screen, your first thought was your debut song. the other members seemed to read your mind as you all decided to try and hint at the song itself.

“you don’t seem very fearless y/n!” a familiar voice shouted to your group, one of the rules where if your teammate got a word from the other team you wouldn’t get the point they would.

“how about we test how fearless you are manon!” you shouted back flipping her off before your eyes went wide, forgetting in the moment that you were being recorded.

“did you catch that—! she just—” luckily the camera did in fact catch it.

⌗ CLIP TWO (manon spraying yn..)

you stood in a line with your group and katseye; unfortunately beside manon, they were explaining the rules of some water game you didn’t really understand; not that you even wanted to. you had tuned out halfway through the lesson until you felt something kick your foot lightly.

you lifted your head and looked at manon as she smiled innocently, tilting her head as she turned her head back to the instructor. as he was explaining, someone came around to hand out the water guns to everyone.

“while playing this game you will not use the water guns for per—” suddenly you felt your shirt dampened and start sticking to your skin as you barely had time for the guy to even give you your water gun, you stood there agape turning to look at manon.

she quickly ran around the line to the other side; snickering, her running had been surprisingly fast considering how wet the grass was, the two groups watching her run. as you finally took in what happened you looked between manon and the instructor as if you were hoping he would say something, berate her perhaps.

“personal use…” the instructor sighed “manon bannerman—!”

snoopyiz talks! — sorry it’s so short 😢😢 a bit rushed as well gulp

[xoluvx]

hi hi it’s my birthday tomorrow could u like write like could be small like a car fic of billie railing the reader pls pls obvs u don’t have to but yk would be 🙏 fr

happy birthday love.. i know this is super late but i hope you had a wonderful one! 💖perhaps.. this is a continuation of this little tiny blurb.. 🤭

you were soaked. drowning in her unholy waters. you could hardly breathe. gagging and whimpering each time she raised her hips. each time she pushed your head down you felt her on the back of your throat. tears were forming at the corners of your eyes as you gripped her thighs. the night calm and the only witness to the filth that was happening in the back of her car.

"fuck," billie groaned when you bobbed your head wrapping your hand around the cock. the repeated motion stimulating her clit. she growled gripping the back of your head pushing you down so harshly you chocked and coughed pulling away with tears streaming down your face. you sat on your knees gasping for air. breasts spilling from your bra. she took in the pretty scene shaking her head unable to control her urges. that's how you'd ended up like this in the first place.

she gripped the back of your neck kissing you harshly. tongue sticking into your mouth as you moaned and gripped her arms leaning into her. she hummed every time your tongues touched. growled when you wrapped your hand around the cock pushing it down before palming her pussy. she snarled, wrapping her fingers around your neck watching the way your lips parted and your eyes bulged. her eyes were menacing. daring you to try it again so you could see what would happen. licking your lips, you ran your fingers between her wet folds.

her grip around your neck grew tighter pushing your body back harshly until your bodies were flipped. your back on the cold seat. legs open. lids fluttering as she slapped your pussy with her cock. she watched the way your brows furrowed. listened to how your breathing changed as she rubbed your clit with her strap. you were so sensitive and wet and desperate as you dug your nails into her wrist wanting her to fill you to the brim.

"oh my god," you screeched when she slammed into you. she didn't let you adjust to her length. she was ruthless. fingers around your neck again. hips thrusting. skin slapping. your pussy throbbing.

"fuck," your voice cracked as you lifted your chest. she was absolutely demolishing you. pushing you into the leather seat. cock buried so deep in your pussy as you tried closing your legs. when she felt your thighs clenching she snarled, bit her lip, and looked at you with the most devilish look in her eyes. testing how much further she could push your limits as her thrusts grew rough. slamming against your cervix as you sunk on her cock.

"please," you croaked curling your toes. you could hardly speak. hardly think. hardly move as she crushed you under her weight. as she pounded into you. staring into your eyes - the hunger still unsatisfied. she bit her lip so hard you were sure it would bleed. you breathed heavily. lips permanently parted. the grip on your neck never faltering.

"please what?" she snarled coming down to your face. she repeated herself. her breath heavy in your ear as you moaned and squirmed. she released your neck but cupped your jaw waiting for your response.

"words. use your fucking words," she spit biting your ear as you whimpered and clenched your thighs. she held your legs open with one hand still moving impossibly fast you felt her destroying your pussy.

"please billie. i- i need to cum," you pleaded squirming under her touch as her thumb hooked in your mouth and her pelvis brushed on your clit. you couldn't hold it any longer. you were so close to falling apart just barely holding on as she cradled your head and moved her hips in magical ways.

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part sixteen —other parts

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader words: 3.2k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn't here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

"I can't believe I woke up early for this."

You loosen your muscles, turning to dead weight in Ghost's arms, before using the awkward position to slip away. 

"No one said you had to be here," Ghost throws over his shoulder before his gaze fleets back to yours. "Good. Again."

Blue groans as you reposition yourself for the basic defense maneuver. You can see why she'd find this boring— Ghost started you off with a move so basic it was almost insulting when he explained it. But you quickly realized his reasoning. Each time you do it, your pulse tampers down less and less while in his arms. He's had to remind you a few times to "Breathe, Twix"— the order so quietly uttered into the shell of your ear that Blue likely didn't even notice. Perhaps you have grown used to taking orders from him, or maybe having Blue close by is helping, because you've been able to ward off the threat of panic so far.

"Fine, I'm out of here," Blue rolls her eyes the second you've finished the move again. "Let me know when you—" she jabs a finger at Ghost, "—decide to make things more interesting." As she leaps off the log she'd been perched upon, she adds: "Oh, and don't get too close, Ghost. She might bite."

"So I've heard."

Heat rises to your cheeks. And then— you're alone with him. You take a swig of water from the canister Blue lent you to ignore the awkward feeling in your chest. "Again?" You wipe your mouth. "Or have I passed your test?"

"Test?" he repeats, the gravel in his voice rolling over the word as his brow lifts in question.

"Well, I haven't... had a repeat of last time, and it's been an hour. I think I've proved that I'm ready for something a little more..."

"More what?" 

More interesting.

"Hand-to-hand, I guess. Something harder."

He rubs his jaw, as if to feign consideration. "Right, then. Let's try another one."

The next one he shows you is still simple, except you fail every other time. Basically, he gets behind you and you have to sidestep to avoid the trap of his arms. Somehow, Ghost's movements are light as a feather even though he's built like a rock. 

But then you get better at it. The next two days pass in much the same manner until you start to react a bit faster. He teaches you a few more basic tactics. How to wriggle your wrist out of someone's hold. How to avoid being grabbed from the front by rolling to the ground. All defense. After hours spent with him, he doesn't even have to remind you to breathe anymore. Chopping wood in the evenings helps, too. You go to bed exhausted and wake up ready to practice before Ghost even touches your shoulder.

On the third day, he gets you up even earlier. You cram your wool-covered toes into boots, confine your hair in a hasty bun, and follow him to the clearing that has become your makeshift training ground. It takes you a moment to register that some things are different: his boots have been replaced by sneakers, and his jeans by loose, black gym shorts. The exposed skin is strange, making your eyes widen. If Blue were awake, she'd certainly comment. 

His calves mirror the strength of the rest of him, and on the left leg, swirling ink catches your eye, reminiscent of the tattoos you discovered when tending to his wound. Skulls and a dagger; perhaps corny, but fitting for him.

"Have you tried it?" His voice cuts through your thoughts.

"Tried what?"

"The bow."

A white cloud forms around your mouth as you nod. "Needed some getting used to, like you said."

Yesterday you had a hard time shooting a chipmunk you wanted for lunch, so you spent the early afternoon firing arrows at oaks until the new bow started to feel like an extension of your limbs again.

"Let me know if I need to adjust the string."

"Will do," you say, almost mumbling.

When you reach the familiar circle of trees, you bounce once on your toes and crack your knuckles. Ghost retrieves something from his pocket. A roll of gauze. It is tossed at you without warning, and your hands fumble to grab it. 

"Wrap up," he commands. "Your hands will thank you for it."

You look up at him, brows raised, but begin covering your palms and knuckles. When you're done, you throw the roll back to him. Ghost stretches his arms above his head and splays his feet into a firm stance, jerking his chin at you in a go-ahead motion. Your brows furrow as you try to understand what the fuck he's doing.

"Go on. Get ready."

"Um. Ready for what?"

"A little hand-to-hand."

Your mouth falls open. "What?"

He shrugs. "That's what you wanted, right? I think you're ready for it."

"That's not what I meant," you almost laugh, shaking your head. "I didn't mean I want to— to fight you. I just meant we don't have to stick to the basics."

"We won't." There is the slightest trace of amusement in his voice, so faint you wonder if it's even there. "You have ten seconds to get ready, Twix."

"I don't even—" you sputter, eyes flying open. If you weren't awake before, you are now. He seems completely serious, his hands in fists and his shoulders squared.

"Five."

"Oh, fuck me," you exhale, balling up your bandaged hands. Did he get you up at this hour so there was no chance of Blue joining? He didn't want her to watch him finally annihilate you? You don't think he would seriously hurt you, not after everything, but that doesn't mean your heart doesn't begin to thump wildly when the seconds are up. Neither of you makes the first move; you are focused on keeping yourself distant, and he is circling you like a predator, flicking his eyes along the length of you. 

"What the fuck is that stance? I could just tap you and you'd fall over." His amusement has faded. "Is that how I showed you to stand when chopping wood?"

You shake your head, teeth gritted, and fix it, spreading your boots against the soil. 

"Better."

Then, he's lunging. You forget everything about your stance and prance to the side like a skittish deer. There is a moment of relief when you successfully dodge him, only for it to abruptly end when he darts around your back and hooks an arm around your neck. Your heart skips over a beat. Holy shit is he fast. 

"Be aware of your surroundings at all times," he chastises against the top of your hair. His hold is not aiming to fully restrain you, so when you claw your nails into his arm, it loosens and you slip away, staggering three strides before facing him with your fists up.

"What's the point of raising your fists if you're not going to hit me?" Ghost circles you again, and you have to shift your feet to keep up with him. "Come on, nurse. Where should you aim?"

"You're too tall." Your chest heaves. "I... I can't reach your face or neck without you blocking."

"Use the height difference to your advantage. Reach places that I can't."

You pause to think about it, studying him.

Ghost almost growls. "Stop hesitating. I could have killed you by now."

A mix of annoyance and determination makes you leap forward, jabbing your knuckles at the part of him where you know his liver would be. He captures you by the elbow before the blow can land, and sends you stumbling to the side, a few wisps of hair cascading over your face.

"Liver. Not bad. I might've let you have it if you moved quicker."

A hiss leaves your lips as you whirl around and punch directly into his core this time. He allows the hit, but your knuckles ram into solid muscle instead of the vulnerable stomach you hoped for, and you recoil with a wave of your hand, cussing under your breath.

"You hurt yourself more than you hurt me."

"Well, should I just kick you in the dick then?" you retort without thinking, flexing your fingers. Luckily, the gauze absorbed most of the damage. 

"That's always an option."

His tone is serious, to the point that you almost give it a try, but then he's closing in on you again, sending you back to the defensive. He doesn't hold back. You run in circles and duck frantically, earning a few hits to your ribs. He doesn't use enough force to send you down to the ground, but enough to knock the wind out of you. Rapid breaths fire through your lungs and beads of sweat percolate your hairline. Ghost, on the other hand, appears unaffected.

"Fight back," he says in a mild voice; almost bored.

You nearly throw your arms up. "I would if you'd give me a fucking chance."

"You said not to coddle you."

"I'm aware. That doesn't mean you have to—"

Your spine suddenly meets something hard. A tree. He's backed you into it without you even realizing. When Ghost takes another swipe, you dip your head down and then use his recovery time to grab onto a branch and hoist yourself up.

You're barely perched upon it when a hand grips your ankle and drags you back down, an audible gasp reverberating in your chest as you land flat on your back with Ghost on top. His hand quickly cradles the back of your skull before it can crack on a hard tree root, while his other hand captures both of your wrists.

"You good?" Although he is the one who has you effectively pinned, his tone seems sincere. He scans your face from your forehead to your parted lips. 

"Just... peachy." 

His brows furrow. "What was your plan once you got up there?"

Labored breathing splinters your voice. "I didn't have much of a plan, really."

He speaks flatly. "I can tell."

"You had me cornered," you point out.

"You should have been—"

"Aware of my surroundings," you finish for him, exhaling deep through your nose. "I know."

Your eyes shift around, from his covered face to where his chest just barely presses into yours. It's all so close. Uncomfortably close. You can feel the steady pace of his heart against your sternum, and make out the faintest flecks of green in his eyes.

An ounce of fear and something else you can't quite discern balls up in your stomach, making you swallow. You've been pinned like this before and nearly had your face eaten. Ghost simply stares at you, as if waiting for you to make a move, but when you tug on your wrists, his grip doesn't relent.

"Could you... could you maybe get off of me?"

He shifts some weight off you, if only by a little. "Relax and think," he murmurs. "What are your options here?" The curve of his lips tightens before he adds, "Besides biting my nose off. I'd like to keep that for now."

With a sigh, your eyes slide up to the awakening sky. Hues of violet and orange stare down at you. "Do I... do I even have any options? You must weigh like a ton." The words are past your lips before you can shut your mouth. 

"You always have options." 

"Doesn't mean any of them will be effective," you say.

His eyes darken, and the green disappears. "Why do you do that?" 

"Um... do what?"

"Doubt yourself. After all that you have survived." He sounds irritated. 

"As if you haven't doubted me?" You can't help it; you scoff. "You told her I wouldn't come back that time I went on my own. I mean, I'm still weak, remember? No amount of chopping wood will make me as strong as you or those men who almost killed us."

"It's not about strength," he replies.

"That's easy for you to say," you wiggle your wrists for emphasis. "You have nothing to be afraid of. You were cut out for this shit from the start."

"I have everything to be afraid of." His eyes narrow, but his voice softens. "And so were you."

"Me?" Your voice slightly elevates, and a lick of anger curls within you. "I should be in grad school right now, or maybe I would've quit nursing and gone into something useless and hate my life, but I was never meant to kill anyone, let alone fight them. I was meant to be young and stupid and make mistakes. Now, if I make a fucking mistake, it will cost me my life." Your nostrils flare as you huff, sending a piece of hair flying up into his face, and you writhe beneath him. "Get off of me, Ghost."

But he doesn't.

Beats of silence linger in the small gap between your bodies.

You should feel embarrassed for saying all those things, but instead, you think about what he said:

Don't hesitate.

The ball inside you is a fiery mix of emotions that you usually try your damn hardest to ignore and break and shove away.

But now you let it spread through your body like a sizzling tide, from the tips of your fingers down to your toes and... to your knee. Before you can change your mind, you slam it upward as hard as you can into the apex of his groin. 

"Fuck," Ghost mutters, the only sign of any pain aside from the brief moment that he closes his eyes.

His hold loosens only by a little, but it's enough for you to slip out from under him and find your way back to your feet, your chest rising and falling.

He clears his throat after a moment and rises.

"Good." The two of you share a stare-off for a few seconds before he shakes his head, saying again: "Good, Twix. More of that."

You rip your gaze away from him, cheeks hot, and say nothing as you snatch the canister and bring it to your lips, but the water does little to cool you down. 

You shiver in the bitterness of twilight, your fingers red and numb, wishing for a pair of gloves. The fireflies are coming out, dots of luminescence darting around you. You swing the axe down again, throat raw as you grunt, and then you add the broken logs to the growing stack. Sudden light footsteps announce the end of your alone time. 

"It's me," Blue greets kindly. 

You drop the axe, hands feeling stiff, and turn to face her with a breathless smile. "Hey. What are you doing out here?"

"Checking on you. Ghost went hard on you this morning, huh?" she says with a sigh. "I could hear you guys. You were a bit... loud. Made it hard to sleep."

"Not too hard. I'm… I'm good." 

If she is unconvinced, she doesn't comment on it. Rather, she hugs you. A warm one. You return the embrace before she pulls away.

"I also came because I wanted to invite you to a bonfire."

"Bonfire?"

"Well, with all your..." her eyes flicker to the pile of logs you've conjured over the past hour. "...special workouts, we have a lot of wood now. I told Ghost to make a big fire outside and we can cook dinner over it. It'll be fun, come on. Ghost is making tea, too."

Soon enough, your sore fingers are tingling, holding a warm, ceramic mug of tea. Ghost chucks another bundle of wood into the fire, spitting out smoke and embers, and sits on a tree stump while Blue takes the folding chair. Your hair is down, tucked behind your ears, and a patchwork quilt Blue grabbed from her room lays across your lap. The mug burns pleasantly against your lips when you take a sip, the herbal taste sliding down your throat. Whatever plants he used to make it work together perfectly. It reminds you of the tea your mom used to make when you were sick.

"Do you like it more well-done or is this okay?" Blue asks, meticulously spinning the skewered squirrel meat over the fire.

"That's good, thank you."

Ghost cooks their dinner, and the three of you eat and sip in a comforting silence. You avoid looking at him, opting for the starry sky above your head, where bold stars beam even brighter than the fireflies. It's quite nice. When you're done, you toss the bones into the fire and listen to them splinter.

Blue breaks the silence. "Would you rather be burned alive or be attacked by a bunch of squirrels with rabies?"

You take another sip of tea. "How many squirrels, exactly?"

She taps her chin. "One hundred."

"I think if it were fifty, I could handle them. One hundred, probably not. I'll choose being burned."

She makes a face. "That is a terrible death."

"Most deaths are terrible."

"Fair enough. Ghost?"

For the first time since this morning, you steal a glance. His elbows rest upon his splayed knees, and the orange flames reflect in his eyes as if they were twin black, mirrors. "I could handle the squirrels."

She snorts a laugh. "Even you can't survive rabies, though."

He shrugs. "Takes some time to kill you."

"Let's play a different game," you interject. "Maybe something a little less... morbid tonight."

"Like what?" Blue chimes. 

You shrug indifferently. "What other ones do you know?"

"Not that many. You tell us one, Twix."

"Well, I know one good one. You have to act something out and then we'll guess what it is. But you can't talk."

"Oh, that's easy."

"Try it, then," you nod at her.

She leaps up from the chair, nearly spilling her tea in the process. Without hesitation, she puts on a stoic expression and begins shooting finger guns. Quiet laughter shakes your shoulders.

"Are you, um... Ghost?" you guess, making her throw her arms up.

"How did you guess so quickly?"

"It was a bit obvious."

"Not to me," Ghost murmurs. "Terrible impression, kid."

Across the fire, you glance at him again, and his eyes meet yours, reminding you of the events that took place and the words that you spat. Emotions pulse against your ribs, like a swarm of flickering fireflies, but you fail to catch and examine any of them. 

A tug on your arm ends the shared look. Tea splatters around the rim of your mug as Blue ushers you up. "Your turn now."

"Alright, alright."

You decide not to feel humiliated with both pairs of eyes on you. They've both seen much stranger things than you act out a squirrel, which must be a good impression because Ghost guesses it right away.

A sudden crack of lightning in the distance puts an end to the game before Ghost can have a turn, which you suspect he is pleased about. He puts out the fire just before clouds roll in, blocking out the stars, and a drizzle of rain begins. Back inside, you kick off your boots and sink to the sofa as Blue says goodnight. Once she’s in her room, Ghost pauses in the threshold of the hall and speaks over his shoulder.

"Get some sleep. You'll need it for tomorrow, even if it's raining.”