#they can't keep their hands off each other

[coralquill]

Hi there! If you don't mind writing it, between the LaDS and MC (who are not in a relationship), who would confess their feelings first? And what's your headcanon of how they would confess? Would it be accidental in conversation? Out of frustration? Planned?

Additionally, if it's not too long, how would the other respond?

ahoy, thank you for requesting! oof, that was a roller-coaster of feelings with how I think it'd go for each of the love interests. I struggled with coming up with one for Sylus, but it became my favorite at the end<3

pairings: xavier x reader || zayne x reader || rafayel x reader || sylus x reader || caleb x reader

contents: fluff, love confessions, comfort, iloveyous || wc.1731

— XAVIER

Xavier's love is constant and has always been there, and you have subconsciously accepted in your life.

On a quiet afternoon, Xavier and you strolled along the sidewalk in search of an after-lunch dessert. You stopped in front of an ice-cream parlor and smiled at him, hinting at your want.

Smiling back, Xavier stepped up to the counter. "Two ice-cream cones, please," he ordered, adding in a request you couldn't quite catch.

Moments later, he returned with two ice-cream cones in your favorite flavor and handed you one. "Here you go."

Glancing down, you noticed your ice-cream toppings were arranged in a heart shape. "Thank you." Your voice trailed off as you let the realization set in. That was when you really looked and saw his love.

You realized Xavier had always loved you—how he spent most of his time with you, how he remembered all your preferences and favorites, and how your routines became a part of his days were all quiet ways of him saying I love you without needing to say it aloud.

His love had a steady presence in your life—always there, and it had always been enough.

— ZAYNE

Zayne's love is subtle, showing it whenever it was suited. He only wants for you to confirm your feelings, too.

Zayne promised to meet up with you after work. With a text sent telling you to dress nicely, he drove his car to your house and parked in your driveway, waiting for you to come down.

"Good evening, doctor," you greeted him at the door of his car before sliding in.

Zayne smiled in response, presenting you with a bouquet of jasmines. Small petals, subtle meanings. "This is for you."

"Aw, thank you." You accepted the bouquet. "What's the occasion?"

"Can't I gift flowers to the person I love?" He smiled, sparing you an appreciative glance before driving off the driveway.

You flushed at his words and buried your face in the bouquet, pretending to take in its scent as an excuse to hide away.

The drive to the restaurant was short. Zayne parked his car across the street and got out. He circled around to your side and helped you out. Linking his arm with you, he guided you to the entryway of the restaurant.

The hostess greeted you and asked for the number of attendees. Zayne replied, "There's a reservation under the name Zayne, please."

She quickly nodded and guided you both to your table—private and secluded, away from the crowds of dining guests.

The settings were fancy. Candles lit, drinks already poured, and the gentle music played soft tunes in the background.

With a smile dancing on your lips, you followed Zayne as he guided you to your chair. "What is all of this about?"

Sitting across from you, he linked his fingers at the underside of your chair and pulled you closer. "This is my confession to you. I want to keep you to myself." He gazed into your eyes, his voice softening. "Everytime I look at you and I can't help but want you by my side. Forever and always."

You threw yourself into his embrace, nodding eagerly to accept his feelings, to confirm your own.

And Zayne hugged you back just as eagerly, his face finding purchase at the hollow of your neck. He could feel the pulses of your beating heart—pulsating in response to his.

— RAFAYEL

Rafayel is loud and bold with his confessions and love like fireworks. Though he is waiting for you to meet him halfway.

Warm weather, gentle winds, and perfect sun. All the good factors to hold an outdoor gallery by the beach, and that was exactly what Rafayel planned to do. He had invited you to an event curated just for you, sending you a dress and the venue's address and urging you to be there on time.

"Hello, cutie! You're right on time." He greeted you at the sands of the beach kissed the pavement, taking your hand in his to guide you to what he wanted you to see.

You gasped at the sight.

Carpets of white were laid out over the beige of sand, and purples and pinks of flower petals were thrown across the floor. Canvases upon canvases showcased all around the center part of the gallery. They held the warm, gentle colors of spring and summer, splashed around the vast surfaces in intricate patterns to convey feelings and views witnessed through the eyes of an artist—and they all shared one subject. You.

You were the centerpiece of every canvas, painted delicate and dainty and with love.

Overwhelmed with feelings, you glanced at Rafayel, wanting him to take the helm as you set sail through the waves of emotions.

He took your hand in his, smiling gently, "I take it as you like my little surprise for you?"

"Like it? I love it—I love you!" You blurted out.

Rafayel gasped in surprise, nodding in excitement, "Oh, yes! I love you, too!" His voice rang with the same passion he had poured into each and every painting surrounding you. Bold, and bright, and unapologetic.

He couldn't hold his excitement in any longer and smothered your face with kisses.

Rafayel had always been bold with his choices. Bright colors, flamboyant clothing, and his declarations of love for you. Though he never forced you to reciprocate, always waiting for you to meet him halfway.

And you did.

— SYLUS

Sylus has always been open with his feelings, wearing his heart on his sleeve when it came to you. He's just patiently waiting for you to accept his love.

The city lights blurred into streaks as Sylus sped through the bustling roads. He had you riding behind him and clutching at the sides of his leather jacket as you felt the air resist against your helmet.

Mirror-clad skyscrapers mirrored racing reflections of you and Sylus whenever the motorcycle roared past their glinting surfaces.

Sylus drove you through the streets and roads, buildings bleeding into the background until they stood tall and unmoving once the motorcycle came to a stop.

Red light.

Your fingers twitched at Sylus's sides.

"What's wrong, sweetie?"

You raised your head up and saw Sylus was already watching you with his visor raised up. He pressed a button at the side of your helmet, forcing your visor to go up as well. Your eyes met his—and you lost yourself in them.

They were captivating, alluring, and they held you with such gentleness that all your worries and woes melted away.

"Sweetie?"

"You blinked, eyes flickering from Sylus's to all the prominent features of his face before wavering. You focused on a faraway building, watching its surface catch the gleaming lights of the city. You sighed, "It's nothing."

Sylus was still watching you, and the distant look in your eyes gave you away. Something was bothering you, and you didn't want to let Sylus know.

He breathed out softly, hooking his finger underneath your helmet to redirect your attention back to him. "Listen to me," he said, "no matter what it is and no matter whoever is involved, just say the word and I will take care of it."

"I will," you responded, voice tender and raw. "I trust you will."

"I mean it." Sylus gently bumped his helmet against yours. "I'd do anything for you. You know I love you."

His eyes bore into yours and they spoke of love so deep, so pure. It seeped from his heart and throughout his veins, awaiting just outside the doors of your heart—to be accepted, to be welcomed.

Green light.

The traffic lights illuminated the streets with green, and it was time to go—to move forward and finally welcome his feelings into your heart.

— CALEB

"You have to be careful with what you're doing, pip-squeak," Caleb sighed in frustration. "I don't appreciate getting calls during work from people I don't know telling me something's happened to you." He stood up and paced around the room, each step heavy with stress.

Caleb beats around the bush about his feelings for you. Though he's clear about not wanting anyone else (other than you.) He'd be surprised when you finally admit your feelings for him, too.

He pinched the bridge of his nose before glancing your way. You sat in the middle of the couch, looking guilty and all too sorry for worrying him.

His heart broke a little at the sight.

Caleb crouched in front of you, his arms resting around your knees. "It's just that... I don't want you to get hurt. I don't want to imagine living in a world without you. I love you—"

Upon uttering those three last words, Caleb clamped his mouth shut. He froze in place, never meaning for the words to slip out. He considered backtracking, playing it off as a joke, but he couldn't. He'd never do that. Not to you.

You looked down into his eyes, all quiet and unreadable.

A beat passed.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, Caleb." You smiled at him. "I love you, too."

No response.

"Caleb?" You waved a hand in front of his face.

"—Yeah?" He squeaked out, coming back to his senses. His face flushed deep red.

You laughed.

Caleb had never expected you to return his feelings. He had never meant to confess. But after hearing those three words from you, he felt at peace for the first time in a long while.

And just like that, his world stopped collapsing in on itself—and it settled. Like love had always been there, but it finally had its proper name: you.

likes and reblogs will always be appreciated ♡ let me know what you think!

— until next tide, thanks for docking by ｡𖦹��‧𓇼

© coralquill 2025 – do not copy, steal, or translate my work.

[dancingaliensfics]

Remmick NSFW Alphabet

This is pretty self explanatory. I haven't really formatted this or proof read it, I'll do that tomorrow. Right now I'm tired and need to sleep lol but I wanna get this posted since it just came to me. Wrote this in my notes app bc I couldn't be bothered opening docs, thats how quick this came to me lol so theres not even spell check really.

I do personally prefer sub remmick but I've tried to have a mix in here of both because I think it's more realistic to him as a character. I might add some more stuff it tomorrow idk.

Warnings: nsfw content, mentions of drinking blood, one section with gore mention that you can skip, idk i can't remember tbh

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

He doesn't like to clean you up after sex. Not because he doesn't care but because he likes how you look all dirty and messy. So cleanup is out of the question unless you're willing to wait 30 minutes for him to have his fill, by which point he's usually ready to again lol. He does like to cuddle though, he's quite a physical guy and keeping contact with you is important to him.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

He really likes your hands. I've made a post already about how he likes to have your fingers in his mouth and i stand by that. So i wont say too much about it again here.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He's nasty guys. He like to cum on you. His favourite place is probably your stomach but he doesn't really care where as long as he can see it dripping down you. He cums a lot and because he's a vampire he can go again pretty quickly, probably after like 10 minutes, so by the end of the night you're covered. He also likes to spread it around with his fingers cause he's a weirdo.

He will absolutely eat his own cum. When he cums in your mouth make sure to kiss him afterwards because he loves it, it gets him hard so quick. Or you can just scoop it up with your fingers and push it into his mouth.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Ok I have two things for this. The first one isn't particularly scandalous but it is something I think he'd be embarrassed by. When he's alone and feeling himself he imagines you and him back in his home town from when he was alive, living a quiet life in his childhood home. He loves to imagine you in the dresses the pretty girls used to wear when he was young. Honestly he creates pretty vivid scenarios, bringing you flowers back after a day working on the farm, putting your children to bed after dinner, undressing you slowly, pressing soft kisses to your shoulders. Climbing into bed together and just making gentle love before falling asleep in each other's arms. He keeps this a secret because it goes against his whole philosophy that vampirism is a gift. You two can't have children, atleast not in that way, and he'll never be back in that little house on the farm.

Now for the actually dirty one. I'm not really sure how to explain this but I'm gonna try my best. Basically he likes being told to use parts of you. Like for example, being told he can only use your thighs or your hand to get off. There's something so degrading about it that just really gets him going. It's another one that he wouldn't be able to verbalise, but having to make himself cum while only being able to rut against the sole of your foot or the space between your thighs is humiliating in a hot way. He doesn't have specific body part fetishes, he's not into feet or anything specifically, it's just being told he can only touch that part of you i guess.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Very but also not. He's had a lot of sex and he's very good at it, but he doesn't have much experience being vulnerable and having that Intimacy he would have with you if you're in an actual relationship. Remmick is also not very experienced with being cared for by someone and wanted in a way that goes beyond the physical. So yes, he can give you the best night you've ever had, but hold his hand and promise to stay with him forever and he's a bit stumped.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

He likes to look at your face so you'll often find yourself in some variation of missionary. Tbh I don't know all the fancy names and neither does remmick, he just wants to look at your eyes. He's quite fond of prone bone though and anything that let's him look up at you.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

He definitely goes back and forth. I think simply through his nature or being a vampire, sex isn't always serious for him. He's very old and doesn't view sex in the same special way mortals might, especially in the 30s. But that doesn't mean it isn't special when he's with you. He always values your Intimacy together and often will be quite serious, especially if he's in a more melancholic mood. But he's a Goofy guy, he doesn't take things very seriously and he makes jokes in inappropriate situations that don't usually land. Obviously a lot of his silly guy persona was fake, but i think it's also clear from other interactions where he's trying to really connect with people that remmick is quite an odd guy and that does bleed through into sex. Sometimes he just does weird or random stuff. So yeah I think sex with remmick is a real mixed bag when it comes to seriousness.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He is not groomed at all. He is quite hairy and doesn't see a problem with that. He does trim every so often, but being from a time where shaving body hair just wasn't a thing, he doesn't often think about it. He has a lovely happy trail that leads right from his navel all the way down. He has thick dark curls down there that run wild. If it really bothered you, you could ask him to groom more but I don't think he would. He likes a hairy bush and doesn't get the modern fascination with hairless pussies and balls so he has no interest in it on himself. I just really isn't something he thinks about.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Sex with remmick is always very intimate. Even when it isn't serious, the Intimacy is always there. There's a few reasons for this really. The first is that sex with remmick using involves one of you bleeding, and the exchange of blood is something he sees as very meaningful. It's not only his food source, the thing he survives on, but he also still has many old world believes about humours and the transfer of energy through blood. The second reason is that sex is one of the few times remmick will be vulnerable. You can really break down those walls and see another side of him, especially if you've been at it for a while. And the last is that if you're also a vampire, you and remmick have a mental link that connects all of your feelings, sensations and thoughts. There's really nothing more intimate than that.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

He does it a lot lol. Being in a relationship does nothing to slow him down. Whether you're away from each other, in another room or sat right in front of him, it doesn't matter, he loves to feel himself up. He actually is quite a voyeur and loves to Jack off while you watch, especially if you give him instructions on how to do it. He also loves to have your smell around him while feeling himself, whether it's by just straight up sniffing you or from something of yours he has with him. He always takes something of yours with him when he goes on trips away, usually underwear or a scarf since those have the strongest scent but he'll even take a handkerchief if you offer it.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Honestly, it's probably easier to list things he isn't into. But I'm gonna touch on one isn't haven't really seen or talked about before. Remmick is a masochist. He's also a sadist but there's plenty of fics about that. He loves being hurt. Honestly sometimes he goes too far with it, and he really needs a partner who cares about him enough to draw that line. He talks a big game but he has a lot of self hatred he refuses to acknowledge and pain is a good way for him to ignore that. So its good to put him in a control environment where you can make sure he doesn't go too far. Slap him, choke him, bite him, scratch him. He loves it all.

He also likes to be treated like a dog. I've mentioned this a few times on my blog now haha so hopefully I don't become that girl, but he is really into that. Make him crawl on his hands and knees, tell him to pick your hands, let him hump your leg, he loves it. He likes to lick your face a lot which can be a bit icky but indulge him. He like to be punished and rewarded, it's a good way to keep him in check. And he likes this dynamic outside of the bedroom as well. Send out on errands and call him a good boy when he does well. Give him head pats when hes good and smack him when he's bad. Ah I can't get carried away here.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Anywhere and everywhere. I've already talked about this but he will fuck you on the side of the road or in the middle of a bar he doesn't give a shit. He likes for people to watch and he likes to be dirty. But there is something special to him about a private bed, it's somewhat nostalgic and makes his old man brain feel good or something I guess.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Again, anything and everything. This man is so horny, he is ready to go 24/7. But simple things like the wind blowing through your hair, watching you walk barefoot through a field or the smell of you as you walk past, are often the ones that do it the most him. Oh and watching you perform, if you're some kind of artist. That really drives him wild.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

I don't thing he likes the thought of really degrading someone he's actually in love with much. Don't get me wrong, he can be a mean dom when he wants, but I don't think he would ever do something that would actually make you feel bad. His whole world revolves around his partner, they're his god in a weird, possessive way, and he wouldn't do something like brand you or insult your physical appearance. He would also never make you feel bad about your personality. While he might call you a slut or pathetic, things like insulting you for being needy he just wouldn't do. I think he also would be interested in others degrading you. So while he enjoys bringing others into your sex life, it's purely for them to service you. He'll never tolerate someone insulting you in anyway.

He also won't let any of the fresh vampires near you because he doesn't think it's a good idea. Even if you're also a vampire, they can be too rowdy and he doesn't like it so yeah there's a waiting time for anyone freshly turned.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

HES A MUNCH.

Cmon we all know that. This man loves eating pussy, day and night. If it was possible he would never stop. He loves the taste, the smell, the feeling of your legs squeezing his head. He just can't get enough. He eats like man starving, and he laps that shit up like a dog. He also moans so loud while eating you out. He honestly doesn't like 69 very much because he wants to focus on the task at hand lmao.

I also have to say, he loves sucking dick. He find it so relaxing, he could honestly fall asleep with a dick in his mouth. He loves to struggle on a big cock and he loves to take a small one fully into his mouth. The one thing I'm sad about is that I don't have a dick for this man to suck because it really is one of his favourite things.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Ah it really depends. His mood changes quite quickly and that influences how he fucks. A session can start out one way and change up half way through. There's not much consistency with Remmick.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Remmick loves a quickie. He'll ask for them all the time, at every opportunity. God forbid you have to be somewhere on time because he will stop you at some point to ask for a quick fuck. Most of the time he asks for a quickie though, it isn't so he can fuck you, it's so he can get a taste of your pussy.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes yes yes. He will give almost anything a try atleast once, although most things he's already done. He's also a massive voyeur as I said before so he doesn't care about getting caught. I mean he shares a hive mind so it doesn't really matter to him anyway.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

He's a vampire so his Stamina is very good but not impossibly so. He can if he wants to last a long time each round but remmick is not a patient man so he usually doesn't. You can tell him to hold out though and then he's happy to. But to him it doesn't matter because whether he's cum or not, your fussy is getting eaten. He can go for quite a lot of rounds honestly, probably 4 or 5 most days but stretching up to 7 if he pushes it. But he still needs time between and he doesn't like to over do things so most days it's gonna be more like 2 to 3.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

What toys did they have in the 1930s? I'm not sure i need to do some reading on that. But I think remmick quite likes involving toys both on himself and you, whatever they are. He especially likes bondage on you both although he keeps breaking all the pretty rope you get.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

This man is the king of teasing. Good luck if he gets in one of these moods because there is no escape. It will start at dusk as soon you're up, with light touches and coy looks and continue right up until dawn when he finally let's you cum after hours of fucking you.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Remmick is so loud jesus. If you have neighbours, they hate you. And if you're trying to stray hidden you'll have to gag him. Even then you can still hear his panting and muffled moans. He also talks none stop during sex, I mean really runs him mouth. The man does not know how to shut up.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Big gore warning here, i personally feel a bit sick reading stuff like this even though I wrote it so just warning you guys first.

He wants you to bite him. Ok yeah that's obvious. But not just a few times, he wants you to cover him all over in deep, bloody bites. He wants it to hurt. He wants people to look at him and think he's been attacked by some wild animal. Honestly he wants you to eat him. To tear chunks off and swallow them. To crack his bones and tear parts off him. Break open his ribs and pull out his heart and rip pieces out with your teeth. He finds the idea of being consumed deeply erotic and also very intimate. It makes him feel very safe, knowing pieces of him are inside of you.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Nice and thick. Probably a solid 6 to 6.5 inches with a good girth. He stretches you out just right. Uncut and a red tip. Heavy balls that hang low.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

All day everyday, ask and you shall receive. He really is hungry as a dog lol.

You know he's ready for it when he starts drooling. The drool really isn't something he can control, it just happens when his body decides its time to eat which often gets mixed up with being horny. So yeah, it's pretty common for you to look over and see him covered in drool, mouth open and shameless.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall  asleep)

Depends. Some days he's straight to sleep while others he gets kinda sad and wistful after sex and stays awake watching you. He also gets kinda stressed you're gonna disappear or leave if he closes his eyes sometimes so you might occasionally find him staring at you for a long time. But your presence is very comforting for him and he always sleeps better with you.

[roryknightwrites]

sometimes I forget that Final Victor was the first time Aventurine and Ratio met and I'm like...imagine you're Ratio and you pull up to work and your boss is like 'you're getting a new mission partner' and you're like ugh probably some average boring idiot, another person who will treat me like a cold and off-putting genius, I'd so much rather be by myself god damnit this is going to suck.

Then, in walks an unassuming little blond man who immediately whips out a gun, gives you bedroom eyes while he loads it in front of you, probably blushing and biting his lip and shit like a freak, puts it in your hand, presses it to his chest, intertwines his finger with yours around the trigger, stares you dead in the face, AND I QUOTE, "provocatively", and fires it. Three times. AND THEN HE PROBABLY JUST LEAVES BC IF YOU'RE GONNA PULL SOMETHING LIKE THAT YOU CANT JUST HANG AROUND FOR DRINKS AFTERWARDS YOU GOTTA FLEE AND KEEP UP THE MYSTERY, SO NOW YOU'RE JUST ALONE IN THE ROOM LEFT TO PROCESS WHAT JUST HAPPENED.

Like what do you even do after meeting someone like that ??? Well in Ratio's case I guess you fall in love but I can't even blame him, I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about him either, doc. I can literally picture Ratio in his fucking Ebenezer Scrooge nightcap and gown that same evening, lying awake in bed, staring up at the ceiling, looking so perturbed just thinking '.....who the hell was that?'

Ratio is probably so used to knowing everybody's next move since he's so smart, people are probably pretty predictable in his eyes. This might have been the first time the man has ever been truly flabbergasted by someone's sheer impulsivity. He met his very first wild card (which honestly just makes me so emo because they get to know each other so well and you know my mushy emo heart thinks nothing is more romantic than truly knowing someone)

Also Aven honey normal people show their new work partners they trust them by like...doing a trust fall or playing charades or buying them a hallmark card or something but forcing someone to shoot you also works I guess I mean you got the man whipped so what the hell do I know

[rosenclaws]

sorry if you did this one already, but showering with versions of logan headcanons?

Oo i have not!

Origins Logan -

Showering with him is a very intimate thing and its always after a long day of work. He’s all dirty and dusty from chopping trees and so he always takes a shower when he gets home. When you get to join him it's all cuddles and and sweet talking. His hands wandering and begging you to let him wash you because well, he had a long day and all he wants is to get to help clean his honey. It is just an excuse to feel you up but hey, you don't mind. Trying to get dressed after the shower with him around is another story. You have to send him out of the bathroom so you can put your clothes back on or else he's gonna be whining and pouting in the mirror. You do tend to steal his already worn flannels though because they smell like him and he loves it.

Trilogy Logan -

He is a fucking menace. Absolute fucking menace oh my god you are getting nothing done in that shower. It starts innocent enough. You come back from an exhausting mission and you really need to shower and sleep and Logan is right behind you trailing like a dog. Following you all the way to your bathroom and begging to shower with you with those big hazel eyes. You just roll your eyes and start to strip and he follows suit. He cannot keep his hands off you. He wants to do everything. Wash your hair, wash your body, push you against the wall and make out. You know, typical shower things. When you tell him you actually want to be clean he gets sooo pouty. You're literally standing here naked and wet and soapy and you expect him NOT to do something about it?? You quite literally use up all the hot water by spending way too much time in the shower. His fault and he'll admit it. Once you get out it takes some convincing but he does get you to just go to bed without getting into pajamas which he'll take.

DOFP Logan -

Look they're all fucking menaces alright and though this Logan is older and a little wiser he's just as pervy when it comes to you. He's the guy to hear you start the shower from like 3 floors down and hurry up the stairs so he can slip in and join you. One minute your scrubbing your body and the next Logan has taken the loofa out of your hand and replaced it with his own two hands. Doesn't matter what time or when he will jump in the shower with you. It's really cute but sometimes you are in a hurry and Logan adds about 20 minutes to your shower. Sometimes if you really need to make it quick you tell him to stay out and he gets all huffy. The best showers are the ones where he can really take his time. Kissing you and spending all the time in the world just loving on you. He promises to keep you warm when the water gets cold and makes good on it when he presses you against the glass with his very warm body.

Old Man Logan -

Showering with him is much more intimate than with any of the other Logans. He's very vulnerable at this point, exposing all his scars and tired worn down body to you. He knows he doesn't look like he used to and sometimes it gets to him. The shower is the moment you get to show each other how much you really love him. Washing each other and being close and just getting to be with him. His rough hands do their best to be gentle. It's just really sweet. Plus...Logan is still really hot so.

Worst Logan -

The shower is kind of the only place the two of you can get any peace and even then Logan has to barricade the door so Wade can't just show up unannounced. Like he's done before. Multiple times. He's flirty and also kinda pervy. His hands slipping every where and he's taking advantage of having you all to himself. Totally picks you up and presses you against the wall with the hot water running down his back and he's kissing you everywhere he can and he's mumbling about how that asshole can't interrupt him now. Safe to say you don't come out of the bathroom for a while.

[vainvenus]

jealousy, jealousy. | mv1, cl16, ln4, lh44, op81, gr63 and cs55

drivers: max verstappen, charles leclerc, lando norris, lewis hamilton, oscar piastri, carlos sainz and george russell

synopsis: when another man gets too close, each driver makes sure to remind everyone and you exactly who you belong to.

includings: established relationships, petnames, jealousy, possessive/obsessive behavior, heavy pda, mild threats, not fluff not smut this is kind of just my usual content!

an: wanted to try some drabbles since i've got writers block for my main stories and just need something short and fun to do! i'll probably end up doing the other half of the grid if wnated

꩜ max verstappen.

It started as a harmless chat.

You were in the Redbull hospitality area, talking with the new logistics guy. He was young, eager and maybe a little too confident with how he carried himself but you supposed if you got a position at Redbull of any sort your head would also be huge.

But his confidence was less of the many men you had met while getting familiar with the Redbull garage. Instead of the usual cockiness of the job he seemed more cocky in a flirtatious way. He leaned closer with each comment, laughed a little too loud at your jokes and his gaze seemed too focused on your lips than the actual words leaving them.

You shifted uncomfortably, avoiding his eyes whenever his piercing green eyes locked onto yours for longer than necessary. You weren't stupid. You could practically feel the back of your neck burning from the heat of his gaze.

His gaze of course being Max. He was watching the interaction the entire time. His arms crossed over is chest, jaw tight. He hadn't moved but you could feel the tension in the air coil tighter and tighter.

And then when the guy let out another loud chuckle and touched your wrist as he complimented the Redbull bracelet ( that had Max's initials and number ) it snapped.

Max didn't speak. He didn't even call out your name. He just moved.

You didn't notice him until he was already there with a hand curling around your waist and pulling you back against his chest. The sudden movement made your lips part in surprise, a small gasp leaving your lips and in that moment he cupped your jaw and his mouth was on yours.

Similar to how Max was on the track, the kiss was demanding and quick.

His lips crushed against yours with enough force to make your knees buckle, his tongue forced its way into your mouth like he was tasting something he already owned. It wasn't gentle, it was possessive and rough. His hand moved to hold the back of your neck, keeping you still as he deepened the kiss.

He didn't just want to kiss you, he wanted everybody to know that only he could kiss you like that.

When he pulled back, your breath was caught in your throat. He kept his grip firm yet soft as he turned his head just enough to look at the other man who had gone pale.

His voice was quiet but he made up for it in tone. "Touch her again and I'll make sure you can't even land a job at a rundown hobby lobby."

The guy stumbled over an apology, practically sprinting away without looking back. Max didn't even bother to watch as he walked away, keeping his eyes on you.

"You let him talk to you for so long. Made him think he had a chance or something, how mean."

You frowned, shaking your head. "I wasn't—he's just new and I was making conversation." You huffed. "You can be so jealous sometimes."

Max leaned down again, his mouth brushing across your cheek much slower this time with a tenderness the earlier kiss was lacking.

"You think that was me being jealous?" He whispered before scoffing. "That was me being polite."

꩜ charles leclerc

The paddock was in full swing per usual. You were off to the side, waiting for Charles to finish up a few press duties, just answering a few questions here and there. But your attention was pulled away from him as someone hummed a 'hello' beside you.

He was charming. That kind of sly, media-friendly energy you could spot from a mile away. He wasn't a part of the Ferrari family, you could tell that judging by the Aston Martin cap he was wearing. But he was familiar, from a sponsor dinner. Too many compliments. Too much cologne. And now, too close.

Charles had seen him before, multiple times in fact. He made a mental note of how "friendly" he seemed at the table a few months ago.

But this? This was audacity.

Charles attention drew away from what he was originally supposed to be doing. Ignoring the mic clipped to his collar and the journalists waited a few feet away as his eyes were locked on you. He watches how the guy leaned in and how you gave him a tight smile.

Polite, as always.

He watches how you fidgeted with one of the many bracelets a fan gave to you when you walked through the paddock that day. A small nervous tick of yours.

That did it.

He handed the mic to someone without a word and crossed the distance in a few sharp strides.

He was in front of you in seconds and before you could even open your mouth to ask if he was finished he had kissed you. And it was far from soft or sweet.

He kissed you like you were oxygen and he hadn't been able to breathe for weeks. His mouth pressed against yours, lips parting yours with practiced ease as tongue swept in with a possessive urgency. His fingers curled into your hips as if daring for you to pull away.

When he finally broke the kiss it was slow. He dragged his mouth from yours like he loathed the feeling of letting go. He pulled you close to his side, keeping his hand comfortably on your waist.

Then his eyes slid over to the man that was once beside you.

"i think you've had enough of her time." He said, voice calm. Too calm. "Unless you're wanting to lose more than your dignity today."

The man raised his hands and backed off without a word, not even looking back at you as he turned around and disappeared into the crowd.

Charles exhaled through his nose and turned his head to look back to you, his eyes much softer now.

"Was that really necessary?" You asked.

He tilted his head, brushing your lower lip with his thumb before giving a curt nod. "Absolutely."

"He wasn't even flirting." You murmured. "He was making conversation."

Charles smiled yet you could see that there was no humor behind it. "He thought he had a chance." He hummed, leaning over to press another kiss against your lips. This one much softer than the last, much more innocent. "He won't make that mistake again."

꩜ lando norris

You laughed. The joke wasn't even that funny but you were laughing and of course Lando could hear it.

The guy standing next to you was some guy on McLaren's PR team, cracking jokes and clearly trying too hard to impress you by making you laugh. Lando was a few feet away, pretending to check something on his phone but it was obvious that his eyes were locked on you. And your laugh. Hearing you laugh that hard from a man who wasn't him made something inside of him turn.

Then the guy lightly touched your arm as he laughed with you. Too soft. Too close. Too casual. Too familiar.

He moved.

One moment you were laughing politely and the next, a firm hand wrapped around your waist and spun you around to face him. Lando's mouth was on yours before you could even open your mouth to ask him what was wrong.

His kiss was different. There wasn't any softness, no playful grin pressing against your lips—just hunger.

His tongue swept past your lips with no hesitation. One hand was gently wrapped around the base of your throat while the other held your hip in place as he kissed you like this was going to be the last time he would see you for years. He kissed you until your laughter was gone, replaced by breathless confusion once he pulled away.

He stared down at your lips like he wanted to go for another but he turned his attention back to the other guy.

"You're not funny enough to keep her attention." He said. "So why don't you go joke around with someone who shares your awful sense of humor."

The man blinked and backed off without another word, turning around to leave the room.

You stared up at Lando, blinking. "That was.."

He gave your waist a small squeeze with a hum. "I saw the way he was looking at you. I wasn't just gonna stand there and make him think he had a chance with my girl."

You raised a brow. "Jealous much?"

Lando leaned closer to you, whispering against your lips.

"Jealous would've been watching. That was me making it known you're mine."

꩜ lewis hamilton

It wasn't your fault the guy was flirting with you.

He has cornered you in the lounge during a downtime between practice sessions. At first you thought he was just being nice, trying to make conversation when asking how your weekend was going and what you thought about today's sessions. But then his eyes dropped to your neckline. His hand brushing against your arm when you shifted.

You didn't realize how uncomfortable you were until Lewis walked in, searching for you.

He stopped mid-step.

You felt him before you saw him. His jaw clenched. Something sharp flickered in his eyes as he locked in on the guy like a predator sizing up it's pretty.

"Love," Lewis hummed, voice smooth and calm. Too calm.

You turned your head towards him, opening your mouth to greet him but his mouth was already there on your lips.

It was a slow kiss at first, almost romantic. But then it deepened, tongue sliding into your mouth with deliberate slowness. His hand cupped your jaw while he kissed you hard enough to make sure that the guy got the message.

When he pulled back, your lips were slick and swollen and you could feel your shoulders rising and falling from the breathless kiss he stole from you.

Lewis slowly turned his head towards the guy.

"Back. Off."

There was nothing loud about his voice but it landed like a stone in water.

The guy mumbled an apology before quickly walking away.

You blinked, still catching your breath. "Lew.."

He ran his thumb along your bottom lip, wiping it with a hum. "He knew you weren't his to flirt with. Thought I'd just sit back and not do anything ."

You leaned into him, brows furrowed slightly. "And you had to do...that?"

"He got the memo, didn't he?"

꩜ oscar piastri

Oscar usually didn't react like this. He was calm, collected and smart. He was also very secure in his relationship so he usually didn't act out.

But today? Today, you were talking with a guy from Alpine's crew. Someone Oscar had never liked. You were smiling too politely. And the guy was standing too close. Laughing too hard.

Oscar had seen enough.

He walked up behind you without a word, a hand sliding around your waist like it belonged there. You turn, startled and then his mouth met yours.

Not careful. Not shy. And definitely not calm.

He kissed like a man who had been robbed of one for decades. Tongue tracing yours, his hand gripping onto your jaw. He kissed you like someone who hated being questioned about where you stood with him. like someone who wanted everyone to know where you belonged.

When he pulled back, his hand stayed at your hip as his eyes flickered over to the guy.

"Try that again and I'll make you regret it."

The guy stared, brows furrowed. "Mate, it was just a conversation-"

Oscar's voice cut through his. "Did I fucking stutter? Just walk away already."

And he did without another word, scoffing under his breath.

You looked up at Oscar. "What was that?"

"He thought you were an option." He shrugged, voice much softer than earlier. "I just had to remind him you're not."

꩜ george russell

George always looked and acted like a gentleman. Crisp shirts, polite smiles, soft kisses, perfect posture. So when he crossed the paddock and saw you talking to a guy who clearly didn't know his place, you would have expected him to be rational.

He wasn't.

The man was either a journalist or reporter. Either way he asked too many questions and had that annoying fake charm he hated. He touched your shoulder and all of George's common sense was thrown out the window.

He didn't say a word. He just stormed over, hands sliding around your waist and pulling you into a kiss so quickly you gasped against his lips.

His mouth was hot, demanding, tongue sliding into yours with enough force to have you breathless. He wasn't just trying to kiss you, it was like he was trying to consume you. Possessive. Demanding. As if the guy needed to see every second of it.

When George finally broke the kiss, he turned, his expression clean but eyes burning.

"She's taken."

The guy stammered, confused. 'I didn't mean-"

George didn't even blink. "Then you won't mind walking away before I make a scene."

The man left.

You looked up at him, a bit dazed. "That was a bit... intense."

He adjusted his cufflinks and the hem of your shirt like nothing happened.

"If he touches you again, I won't stop at a kiss."

꩜ carlos sainz

You were laughing. Like, really laughing and Carlos hadn't heard that sound all day. Not towards him, at least

You were sitting at a high top table near the hospitality suite, a drink in hand and some visiting Red Bull junior driver had made himself comfortable across from you. Too young, too smug and far too confident.

Carlos watched from a distance, jaw right and fingers clenched. His arms were crossed but his entire body was coiled as if waiting for an excuse to spring. Your head tilted back when you laughed again, and the guy leaned in too close. Like he thought he was winning.

He wasn't.

Carlos moved like a shadow. One second he was nowhere near and the next he was behind you.

You didn't even have time to turn before he wrapped a hand firmly around your waist and spun your stool to face him and he caught your mouth in a kiss that nearly knocked the air from your lung.

It was deep. Open. Tongue immediately sliding into your mouth like he had been craving you all day. His other hand slipped up your spine, holding the nape of your neck, tilting your head back so he could kiss you harder. Slower. Deeper.

The guy across from the table looked stunned, unsure whether to look away, walk away or stare.

Carlos didn't stop until your hand was gripping his shirt and your breath was gone. He only pulled back an inch, lips brushing against yours. His eyes were locked on you like you were the only thing that existed.

Then, without breaking eye contact with you he spoke to the guy behind you.

"You're trying too hard. It's embarrassing."

He turned his head slightly, voice dropping.

"Sorry you had to learn the hard way that she's taken."

The guy muttered something and got up, fast.

You blinked at Carlos, shaking your head. "Are you serious?"

Carlos tilted his head, as if he wasn't understanding the word coming from your mouth. "You think I didn't see the way e was looking at you?" He scoffed. "You're mine. And I don't share what's mine."

[ghelullu]

Prague 2025 skeletour recap!!

Tl;dr I love ghost they're all amazing and I'm happy

Long version under the cut

Probably the tallest crowd I've seen at a recent ghost concert

The way the light shines through the tears in the black curtain during peacefield is amazing no matter how many times you see it and of course peacefield is amazing too 10/10

Already multiple skin flashes during peacefield, thank you for the Fanservice

Dew is very mobile now! And someone painted bones imitating his skeleton on his boot, very cute. He's already a sassy diva again

Papa looked very pleased with himself during spirit again

Was overall VERY very smiley today! Many smiles and grins. At one time he saw someone on dews side of the stage hold up some sign and cracked up (sadly I couldn't see the sign)

Rain keeps headbanging so hard that his head peace flaps around and gets stuck sometimes

Papa had a weird lock of hair sticking out at the back of his head

We got the meliora special(tm) again tonight with pinnacle and majesty (would've loved to hear faith again tbh)

Phantom has the zoomies, this guy has so much energy, it's incredible. Sometimes he's just sprinting all over the stage and the person operating his spotlight STRUGGLES.

He and dew are absolute chaos twins, bless them. They had tons of moments together. But also phantom and the ghoulettes!! During one song he was with them, after cirrus keytar solo they chased each other over the stage and during the slightly awkward break after majesty he was at cirrus Plattform and they chatted or something

Papa in the silk shirt kills me everytime, I'm too weak for this. This shirt was an evil choice.

He did the times are shitty talk but somehow some people seemed to not to thing that times are shitty lmao and he was like, very sassy, it's okay to think that the world isn't shit right now before leading into tfiafl

Made multiple unnecessarily horny noises (moan, ah's) in this song and others help

I love seeing the variations of papas crisis during the Latin bit(ft. Priestbias on the screen) and the guitar solo (cowering on the stairs dramatically) in satanized

At the end he lifted his arms and we saw the hair again, without the Berlin incident I wouldn't have looked closely enough but.... Hmhmmhmm yes.

Satanized is a total audience fave

I can't wait to see when he decides to add the wings for cirice because he keeps doing the vampire arms bit when coming on stage, but still no wings

Fingered the mic stand again, though. And dew.

When he ciriced the person he got so close to the mounted camera that we got like a SUPER closeup shot until the point where you basically only saw the white eye before the video crew cut away to another camera angle of it haha

Generally some really cool new camera angles for example from unterneath the drums when papa faces the drums and such!!! Really big props to the video screen crew they're doing an AMAZING job

Papa slapped, I think it was rain, butt when leaving the stage

Rain was super done with dew and turned his guitar off for their ritual bit while phantom was being phantom on the other side

Umbra had ALL the smoke cannon action, very cool with the purple light and all, and the song SLAPS so hard. I love how papa loses his brain function while coming up from below the stage with the cowbell raised above his head and just... Wakes up, staring at it confusedly before quickly dropping it into the new ghoulettes (who has the collective braincell in that moment) waiting hands

I need to say how great the ghoulettes are with their little wings, I love them. And I like how they have some more bits, moving in the stage etc

I love year zero so much!!!

Dew stood so close to one of the pyro thingies that I thought he'd headbang right into the flame at some point. little fire gremlin

Papa was kinda defeated in the year zero bit with the disobedient ghouls, didn't even fight their standoffish ways, just walked around rain and dew but the got extra diva with phantom. In general he's either just accepting them being uncooperative OR goes full sassy diva and there's nothing inbetween

Papas mic was very silent for a lot of the show but ON during he is (and then rather silent again???) also the jesus rocket at the end of he is always ends me

Was the church backdrop always broken on dews side? Like the bow of the first smaller window bit on that side is broken (interrupted at the top) and they also turned the screen off at that part to simulate a missing window. Very cool detail!

Taint tickling for mummy dust!!

Some very nice mummy thrusting thank you very much

Rolled a mummy dust bill up like a cigarette or joint and then slowly with A LOT OF tongue licked the whole thing and threw it (very badly, it barely reached barrier) into the crowd. I died a little bit. Slut.

His monstrance clock speech was super funny, first of all he was like "don't fucking whimper now" (can't remember the exact words, but whimpering was in there), then said something in Swedish (i didn't understand obviously but swedes kn twitter said it was: "i'm the one to be the one") "as they say in Swedish....... WHICH I DONT.", he said he was just told to say that 😂😂 (and asked if someone's from sweden here, some people at the front cheered) bless him. Then people screamed so long thst they couldn't start monstrance clock and he said we are wasting time now before shushing us

I love monstrance clock part 38844. Also at the end of it the person responsible for the video screen forgot to shut it off, so the porn font lyrics kept rolling and rolling despite the song having ended

His little encore speech about being predictable and all was very cute and fun again, he smiled a lot and spoke I a horrible English accent that they're having one last good song up their sleeve. Also called it his daddy's song

Something was different about the keyboard sound for moac I think? Doesn't matter, it was amazing as always

No wobble for Dance Macabre and also no confetti - not sure it the cannons malfunctioned or if it was intentional

This is the time I'm addressing the boner allegations, bc twitter keeps talking about how he's "constantly bricked up" and idk. I'm not a boner expert, but as someone who knows clothes from experience and drawing and also the fact that the ridiculous cardinal pants existed for 2 years without a single incident... My scientific guess is that due to the, already very tailored to the crotch, pants slipping down, esp at the front due to the heavy belt buckle, it creates a sort of pouch and the ghunk just collects in there, yk. During dance macabre he jumped up and down a few times and it sorted the whole situation, which wouldn't have happened with a ghoner. Not that it matters but twitter talks about it so much lol

Phantom got Ryan's attention who was standing underneath him and handed him a pick to deliver it to someone in the crowd which I thought was very cute of them

Papa told dew to "get his ass over here" for squammer and at the end didn't do the high note again but the "right here right.... Now we're done"

Ghoulettes made paper planes out of setlist again, we are so close to the return of origami ghoulettes of the prequelle era.

Dew has a cane for the bows!! Very distinguished fire gremlin!

Despite standing 8 rows from the barrier I had a very sweet moment with Papa thst will keep me alive for the rest of the year thanks

Dew yeeted picks at 984848kmh all the way over to the seats

Lots of kisses from papa for the crowd but also his ghouls

I love them all so much and I'm very sad that this was my last ritual for the year but I'm also super happy and grateful thst I could see them 4 times, I don't take this for granted at all.

Thank you for reading ❤️

My Other ritual recaps

[sourle]

may i request with tje story thingy where the reader is hated so bad with: builderman actually needing ur abilities to keep the whole group safe and functionable (prolly a temp speed boost when the reader is nearby) and tries to keep you alive(mostly shedletsky) , but the reader lowkey gave up on trying tk stay alive so they just let the killer get to them first

Acquaintance

My compass is curiosity

WARNINGS: none

Note: its not exactly giving up, more so someone fumbled badly—

You tapped the generator after you closed the lid, watching as it sprung into life making the area a bit brighter from the neon green line on the front of it. One generator down, 2 left to go!

You hope the others are at the remaining generator fixing it to keep the cabin safe. Protected from the depth of the forest around it. You got up and stretched your body, hearing a few pops from your back. Probably from how long you've been crouching on the same generator. Seriously, these things got more and more hard to finish each round. You do wonder why that is.

You've heard Builderman and Shedletsky talk about it, they talk about how the generator went from just clicking buttons to connecting wires. You didn't know it used to be just clicking buttons. Maybe that's because you came after the initial changes. Yeah.

"I wonder where the others are.." you muttered, walking out from the underground place. You groaned as you almost slipped off the dirt steps but managed to catch your balance by flailings your arms.

Ugh I hate this new map.

The ambient sound of the map was eerie, and each step you take seems to be on beat with the thumping from across the map. You wonder who's the killer this time, you haven't seen it for half of the round.

You kept on walking past the disarray that's once a glorious place. As you rounded a corner a hand grabbed your arm and pulled you, you gasped and punched the person from shock.

A pained groan emits from beside you and it's.. Elliot?

"Shhh the killer is near," you stare at him like he's a different person, not once have you seen him do this. You started to think he's an imposter.

Elliot groans to your shocked and offended face, "Builderman needs your help,"

You blinked, once. Twice. What?

"Builderman needs my help????" "Yes, now come on—"

You watch as he walks, sticking on the side and behind walls. You just followed still confused.

The two of you arrived at the corner of the middle, you don't know how to describe it, but the place is elevated.

There's a working generator against the wall and the opposite of it is a dispenser, Builderman sat next to it with Chance.

Once the two notice both of you Chance instantly greets, "Eyy Pizza man! And isn't it the crayon user themselves!" Chance gives you a salute before flipping his coins landing on head.

"Hi Chance... And uhh—" "I need your help,"

You stare at Builderman from his bluntness. Straight to the point, i guess?

Builderman explained his plans, since your passive gives them slight speed they need you to stay near the sentinels, and right now they're struggling with John doe.

You stepped out from behind the wall, peeking to see the rest of the survivors. You watch as Guest and Two time followed John doe from behind whilst Shedletsky is being chased by it.

Shedletsky groaned, gripping his scarred arm as he ran, his stamina was almost gone. You quickly run up to him, it is a risk run alongside someone being chased, but due to your passive Shedletsky gets a lot quicker to flee and hide. Leaving you behind to run on your own.

You can't complain when your stamina is 10 more than the killers, making it easier for you to distract. You ran for as long as you could, juking and avoiding all of John doe's attack. Your body slowly wears itself down, your legs muscles spasm from the force pressure as you kept on going.

You can't hold him longer yet you're hopeful you can due to the timer. There's 10 seconds, you can do it.

You're hoping the sentinels come out and help you and your wish was granted as the others appeared, you scream in joy but he misses his sword.

0:03

Welp you might as well pray in hope it's quick painless as John doe grabbed the back of your clothes and stabbed you with his corrupted arm.

0:33

You woke up from the couch, hearing a thud from the dining room. You shifted a bit, sitting up before groaning. You glance to the side at Taph before at the doorway that leads to the dining room and saw Shedletsky walks out.

You two locked eyed, he stammered out an apology of not being able to help you before Chance pushed him aside and practically jumped dive towards you and Taph.

Note: Taph woke up w a concussion from it.

[freshl6ve]

. ✦ . 𝑱𝑼𝑺𝑻 𝑨 𝑭𝑹𝑰𝑬𝑵𝑫 .ᐣ ⊹　 ❜ ᵎ

⋆˚𝜗𝜚˚⋆ : I sat on the couch, my eyes glued to the TV screen, watching in awe as the triplets kicked off their show. The energy was contagious, even through the TV, and I felt a familiar sense of pride swell up inside me as I watched them sit in front of thousands of adoring fans.

Chris, Matt, and Nick, were answering questions from the audience, each of them taking turns to respond. I could hear the excitement in their voices as they interacted with their fans, their easy banter and playful teasing setting the tone for the rest of the show.

Chris was the next one to speak, and I couldn't help but notice the way his eyes sparkled with excitement. “Next question!” he said, grinning as he waited for someone to speak up.

A girl in the crowd raised her hand, and Chris pointed to her. “Hi! I have a question for Chris,” she said, her voice trembling with excitement.

“Sure. What’s your question?” Chris asked, leaning closer to the microphone.

The girl beamed and asked, “We’ve seen countless pictures and clips of you and Y/N together,”

The crowd seemed to react instantly to the question, and excitement buzzed through the air. Fans eagerly waited for Chris to answer, hoping to get a glimpse into his relationship with me.

Chris chuckled lightly, shaking his head at the question. The girl in the crowd pressed on, asking, “So is she just a friend or something more?” Chris paused for a moment, his expression thoughtful, before finally answering, “Just a friend,” his voice soft and hesitant.

The crowd's reaction was immediate, a mix of surprise and curiosity. It seemed that fans had been secretly hoping for a different answer, but Chris's response seemed to dash those hopes.

Chris continued, trying to dispel any rumors, “We’re just good friends. We’ve known each other for a long time and have grown really comfortable around each other, so nothing ever feels weird or awkward.”

Nick chimed in, sensing the tension in the air, “Next question!” he said firmly, moving the conversation away from the previous topic.

The show had ended, and the boys were making their way to their tour bus. Fans were still gathered outside, trying to get a glimpse of them, but security was keeping everyone at bay.

Chris reached behind him, his hand outstretched towards me, signaling for me to grab it and stay close to him.

The moment we stepped outside, the fans began to chant, “Chris! Chris!” They pushed forward, straining against the barriers at the barricades to get closer to him. Chris, being the charmer that he is, couldn't resist engaging with them.

The fans enthusiastically replied, telling him that they had loved every minute of the show. Chris let go of my hand and began to sign autographs and pose for pictures with the fans, chatting and laughing with them effortlessly.

Some of the fans spotted me standing nearby and began to call out my name. “Y/N! Y/N! Will you sign something for me?” They called out, waving items for me to sign. Others held up their phones, asking me to take pictures with them.

I felt a sense of surprise as the fans included me in their requests. I wasn't used to being the center of attention like this, but I was touched by their excitement. I walked over to the fans and happily signed autographs and posed for pictures, doing my best to make each person feel noticed.

As I interacted with the fans, some of them couldn't help but compliment me. “You're so pretty,” one said, while another added, “You're so lucky to have Chris.” I chuckled, feeling a mix of shyness and appreciation for their kind words. Every now and then, Chris would glance over, his gaze lingering on me as if he couldn't look away.

The fans noticed the way Chris was looking at me and exchanged knowing glances with one another. Some of them even pointed it out, saying things like, “He can't keep his eyes off you” and “You two look cute together.”

I shook my head and chuckled, responding to the fans' comments about Chris's gaze. “Just friends, guys,” I said, before continuing with the pictures.

As I finished taking pictures, I began to shiver slightly, feeling a chill from the cool night air. I walked over to Chris and stood behind him, wrapping my arms around his waist and slipping my hands into the front pocket of his hoodie. Chris, without missing a beat, put his hands in the pocket as well, effectively holding my hands as he kept his conversation with the fans.

I rested my head against his back, seeking a bit of warmth from his body heat. As he continued talking with the fans, he squeezed my hands gently, a small gesture of comfort and acknowledgment.

After a few moments, I whispered in his ear, “I’ll meet you inside,” and gave his waist a gentle squeeze before letting go. Chris nodded subtly, acknowledging my words, and continued speaking to the fans.

The fans immediately noticed the closeness between me and Chris and began to scream in excitement. As I waved goodbye to them, they cheered and applauded, clearly enjoying the hint of intimacy between us.

Chris gave me a final look before continuing his conversation, a small smile playing on his lips. After a few minutes, he finally bid the fans farewell and walked away from the barricades. I watched him as he made his way over to me, his eyes soft and warm.

The bus driver pulled away from the venue, the fans outside waving excitedly. The boys and I stood at the windows, waving goodbye to the fans who were still calling out their names.

Chris stood behind me, watching as the fans grew smaller in the distance. The image of me with my arms around him and my hands in his pockets and the way I squeezed his waist before leaving had replayed over and over in his mind, causing an unfamiliar fluttering sensation in his chest.

Nick slumped on the couch, a yawn escaping his lips. “God, I’m so tired,” he groaned, rubbing his eyes.

Matt nodded in agreement, his own exhaustion evident. “Me too,” he said, stifling a yawn. “I can barely keep my eyes open.”

The bus was quiet except for the low hum of the engine. Nick and Matt were visibly drained after the show, and they both looked ready to crawl into their bunks and pass out.

Chris and I sat on the couch opposite Nick and Matt. He laid his head on my lap, resting on my thighs, as he looked up at me with tired eyes.

“The show was good though,” he murmured, his voice soft and heavy with exhaustion.

Nick and Matt nodded in agreement, their own exhaustion visible on their faces.

I began to run my fingers gently through Chris’s hair, massaging his scalp lightly. He let out a soft sigh, his eyes slowly closing as he relaxed under my touch.

Nick and Matt both got up from their seats, yawning and stretching. “We’re heading to bed,” Matt said, his voice tinged with exhaustion. Nick nodded in agreement, his eyes half closed. “Yeah, goodnight you two,” he said, a weary smile on his face.

We sat in silence for a few moments, my fingers still gently running through his hair. Finally, he broke the silence, his eyes still closed. “What did you think of the show?” he asked, his voice soft.

I continued to massage his scalp, my fingers tracing small circles against his head. “It was good,” I replied, a smile in my voice. “You guys did really amazing, as always.”

My hand moved from his hair, down to his cheek. I gently cupped his face, my touch soft and tender. “You looked really good too,” I whispered, my voice barely above a whisper.

Chris’s eyes slowly opened, his gaze meeting mine. He looked at me with a mixture of exhaustion and something else, something I couldn’t quite put a name to. “Yeah?” he asked, his voice gruff.

I nodded, my hand still on his cheek. “Mhm,” I confirmed softly, my fingers lightly tracing the contour of his face.

My finger traced a path from his cheek down to his chest, lingering on the fabric of his hoodie. “But the hat should’ve stayed off,” I said, my voice teasing.

Chris’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “And why is that?” he asked, his tone lighthearted and amused.

I leaned in closer, my voice dropping to a whisper. “Because I prefer to see your messy hair instead of it being hidden under a hat all the time,” I teased, a small smile playing on my lips.

Chris chuckled softly, a mix of surprised and amused by my words. “Is that so?” he asked, his own smirk forming.

I nodded, my gaze lingering on his messy locks. “Mhm,” I confirmed, a playful tone in my voice. “I think it suits you better.”

Chris shook his head, still smiling at my words. “And here I thought you liked me in hats,” he said, feigning disappointment.

I laughed softly at his feigned disappointment. “Don’t get me wrong, I do like you in hats,” I admitted, my fingers still tracing lazy patterns on his chest. “But right now, I just prefer you without them,” I added with a smile.

Chris shifted his position, propping himself up on his elbows as he turned to face me. Our faces were now just inches apart, the space between us growing smaller.

“I’ll keep that in mind then,” he murmured, his gaze fixed on me, the air between us charged with a subtle tension.

His proximity sent a shiver down my spine, the intensity in his gaze making it hard to look away. But I couldn’t resist teasing him a little, my fingers trailing lightly down to his neck.

“You better,” I said, my voice a low murmur, my gaze locked on his. “Or I might have to take matters into my own hands.”

Chris chuckled softly, raising an eyebrow at my words. “Oh really? Is that so?” he asked, his tone playful.

I nodded, my fingers still on his neck, lightly tracing the sensitive skin there. “Mhm,” I confirmed, my eyes flickering with mischief. “I’m not afraid to grab that hat and throw it away, you know.”

Chris smirked, his eyes darkening with a mix of amusement and something else. “Is that a threat or a promise?” he asked, his voice low, almost a whisper.

I leaned in closer, our faces now just centimeters apart. “Take your pick,” I replied softly, my fingers still tracing patterns on his neck as I held his gaze.

Chris’s breath hitched at the proximity, his gaze dropping down to my lips for a moment before meeting my eyes again. The space between us felt electrified, the air thick with a mixture of tension and anticipation.

I couldn’t help but notice the change in his gaze, the way his eyes darkened as they flicked down to my lips. A thrill shot through me, and for a moment, the world around us seemed to fade away. I let my fingers move up to his jawline, my touch light and teasing.

His eyes flickered to between my eyes and my lips, as if he was fighting against some internal battle. “You’re playing a dangerous game,” he whispered, his voice a low rumble.

I smiled, my fingers lingering on his jawline, my touch feather-light. “Maybe I am,” I replied, my voice barely above a whisper. “But it’s fun, isn’t it?”

I moved even closer, my body pressing against his as I continued to trace patterns on his skin. “Being this close,” I repeated, my voice soft, my lips almost grazing his.

Chris’s breath hitched again, his eyes fixed intently on my face. He was so close that I could feel the warmth radiating from his body, and his scent was intoxicating.

I leaned in, my lips hovering just millimeters from his, my breath warm on his skin. “Let’s see how good your self-control is,” I whispered, my voice challenging.

Chris’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, his eyes locked on my face. His body was practically vibrating with tension, and I could tell he was fighting hard to control himself.

“You’re not playing fair,” he said, his voice strained. The urge to close the distance between us was almost overwhelming, but he was holding back.

I tilted my head slightly, my fingers still on his jawline, my touch a mixture of gentle and tantalizing. I could feel the tension radiating from him, his restraint obvious but fading by the second.

“No one ever said I play fair,” I murmured, my voice a low, teasing tone. “Especially when it comes to you.”

He let out a soft groan, the sound almost a mixture of frustration and desire. His gaze was fixed on me, his eyes darkening with every passing second.

I pressed myself even closer, my body flush against his. It was as if all my senses were heightened, the world shrinking down to just the two of us in this moment. I could feel everything, his body tense and taut under my touch, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps.

I leaned in, my lips almost touching his ear. “Come on, break,” I whispered, my voice teasing and defiant.

I brought my thumb up to his lips, tracing the soft curve of his mouth. He inhaled sharply at my touch, his eyes closing for a moment as if to savor the sensation.

His lips, soft and slightly parted, were mere millimeters from my thumb. I could feel the heat radiating from them, the air crackling with tension. I pressed my thumb gently against his lower lip, my gaze locked onto his face, waiting for his reaction.

His eyes fluttered open, and I could see the struggle in them—the battle he was fighting to maintain control. His breath was coming fast now, almost choppy, and his body was so tightly wound that it seemed like he might explode at any moment.

“Come on,” I whispered, my voice low and seductive. “You know you want to.”

Suddenly, Chris lost the battle, his self-control snapping like a rubber band stretched too far. He moved to kiss me, his body surging forward, but I was quicker.

“I win,” I whispered, the words a soft, teasing breath against his lips. I pulled back just enough to keep his mouth out of reach, a smirk playing on my own lips.

I gave his shoulder a gentle pat, a sly smile on my face. “Goodnight,” I said, my voice filled with satisfaction.

Chris sat there, his head hung, a mixture of frustration and amusement evident in his expression. He poked the side of his cheek with his tongue, trying to contain his emotions, while a soft chuckle escaped his lips.

As I settled into my bunk, my thoughts drifted to Chris, a pang of longing in my chest. I wished he was there with me, and as if he could hear my silent pleas, he appeared, pulling back the curtain and sliding into the bunk.

He wrapped his arms around me, his body pressed against mine, his face buried in the crook of my neck. “Since you won’t play fair,” he whispered against my skin, his voice a mix of desire and challenge, “neither will I.”

His words sent a shiver down my spine, the intensity in his voice awakening a deep hunger within me. His lips grazed my neck, leaving a trail of feather-like kisses, while his hands roamed over my body, exploring every inch of me.

We were locked in a game of desire, each move a calculated risk. I let myself sink into the sensations, my own desire matching his, fueling the fire growing within us.

I turned to face him in the narrow confines of the bunk, my body pressed against his. “What happened to the just a friend title?” I asked, a hint of playful defiance in my voice.

Chris looked down at me, a smirk in his eyes. “That was already out the window the moment you started this little game,” he responded, his voice low, the huskiness in it sending a frisson of excitement through me.

I couldn’t help but return his smirk, the thrill of our little game palpable in the air. Our bodies were so close in the cramped space, the heat radiating between us growing more intense with each word.

I leaned in closer, my lips hovering near his ear. “So you’re saying you’re not going to fight this anymore?” I asked, my voice soft, almost teasing.

Chris’s voice was low and rough, filled with a mix of desire and a hint of frustration. “Never said that,” he replied, his lips moving along the curve of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

He planted soft kisses, his words a hushed confession against my skin. “I can’t keep pretending like I don’t always want you,” he whispered.

His words were a raw admission, no longer hidden behind the pretense of friendship. The tension between us was palpable, the air thick with unspoken desire. I arched my neck, giving him better access to my skin, my body responding to his touch.

His mouth lingered on my collarbone, his teeth grazing my flesh gently, and then he continued to speak, his voice a low, needy growl. “Can’t pretend anymore. You drive me crazy.”

With each kiss, each graze of teeth, his words grew more possessive, more desperate. I could hear the hunger in his voice, the frustration and desire meshed together, driving him forward. “The way you touch me, look at me, it's like torture,” he whispered, his lips trailing up my neck to my ear.

“I can't resist you,” he murmured, his voice rough and urgent. “I've tried, God, I've tried to keep my hands off you.”

“But I want you all the time, every second, every minute.” he murmured, his voice ragged and strained.

As our bodies tangled together in the close confines of the bunk, Chris' hands drifted to the waistband of my pajama shorts, his fingers making small distracting circles on my skin. His touch was gentle but impatient, like he was holding back something, something that could set us both ablaze.

His eyes locked with mine, their intensity searing. And then he said, “I tell the fans we're just friends, but I've always seen you as something more than that.”

My breathing was ragged, my chest rising and falling with each heated moment. I looked up at him, my eyes pleading in the semi-darkness, and I whispered, “Chris.”

His own breathing was labored, his gaze fixed on me, and he responded, “Hmm?” His fingers still lingering on the edge of my shorts, tracing little patterns that sent shivers down my spine.

“I need you,” I said, the words a soft, plaintive moan. The hunger in my voice, the need for him was like a living, breathing thing in the cramped space. I reached up, my fingertips tracing his jawline, wanting, needing him closer.

His eyes darkened at my words, his own need matching mine. He leaned in, his body hovering over me, his breath coming in shallow gasps. “You have me,” he murmured, his voice a raspy whisper. “You've always had me."

His mouth was hot and demanding on mine, his tongue delving into my mouth, claiming me with an intensity that made my head spin. I met his hunger with my own, my arms wrapping around his neck, pulling him closer, needing him to be a part of me.

His hand slowly left my waist and started a teasing descent downwards, his fingers leaving a trail of fire on my skin. I felt a surge of anticipation, my body craving his touch. As his hand reached the waistband of my pajama shorts, I grabbed his hand and guided it lower, into the shorts.

Our lips broke apart, our breaths ragged and needy. “Touch me,” I whispered softly, our lips still close enough that his response was almost a kiss. His fingers slowly inched lower, finding my center. He teased around the edge, making me whimper. “Here?”

“Mhm,” I moaned softly, my hips shifting slightly to encourage him. He slid one finger inside me, his thumb pressing down on my clit. He started a slow, deliberate rhythm, his fingers curling up to hit that spot inside me that made my eyes roll back.

I bit my lip to stifle a moan as he added a second finger, his pace quickening. His lips and teeth traced kisses and gentle bites along my neck and collarbone, his other hand coming up to gently cover my mouth. “Shh, stay quiet for me,” he whispered against my skin.

I nodded, my eyes rolling back as he hit that spot inside me again. His fingers were relentless, his thumb never leaving my clit. I felt the pressure building inside me, my body tensing up in anticipation. His lips found mine again, his tongue mimicking the movements of his fingers inside me.

I couldn't help but moan into his mouth, my hand coming down to hold his in place between my legs. My hips bucked against him involuntarily as I rode out the waves of pleasure building within me. His fingers curved perfectly inside me hitting every sensitive spot.

“Mmph!” I muffled a cry against his lips, my fingers tightening around his wrist hard, trying to pull his hand away as I got close. He understood my silent plea, but instead of stopping, he pushed his fingers deeper, hitting that sweet spot. “Just a little longer, baby,”

I whimpered, my body tensing as I felt the climax building to a peak. His fingers moved faster, more insistently, his thumb circling my clit with expert precision. “Chris,” I gasped into his mouth, my nails digging into his wrist as I struggled to keep quiet.

His long fingers reached deep inside me, curling up to hit that sensitive spot over and over again. I could feel every ridge and vein on his fingers as they moved inside me, the sensation driving me wild. “Shh, baby, just a little more,”

My back arched as the orgasm hit me hard, my inner muscles contracting around nothing. He pulled his fingers out suddenly, bringing them up to my lips. “Suck,” he ordered softly, his eyes darkening as he watched my mouth part to wrap around his wet fingers. God, he was dirty.

I obeyed, sucking my own taste off his fingers as I rode out the aftershocks of my orgasm. He hummed in approval, pulling his fingers out of my mouth with a pop. “Atta girl,” he whispered, leaning in to capture my lips in a searing kiss.

He pulled back, his eyes filled with a mix of satisfaction and something else, something deeper. “Turn on your side, ma,” he said, his voice low and commanding. I did as I was told, my body still trembling slightly from the intensity of my climax.

I heard the sound of fabric being removed and turned my head to see Chris bringing down his sweats and boxers, his large hand wrapping around his thick, hard cock. He lined himself up with my entrance from behind, his other hand gripping my hip possessively.

He pushed inside me suddenly, his length filling me up completely from behind. I gasped, my eyes rolling back as I felt him hit deep spots inside me that his fingers hadn't reached. “Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned, starting to snap his hips against me in deep, slow strokes.

His large hands spread my thighs wider as he buried himself deeper, his thick length hitting my cervix with each thrust. He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me even closer as he pounded into me. “Shit, baby,” he grunted, his hot breath against my neck.

I covered my mouth with one hand to muffle my moans, the other reaching back to grip his hip tightly, pulling him even closer as he fucked me hard and deep from behind. His thick length stretched me out deliciously, filling me up completely with each powerful thrust.

“You take my cock so fucking well, baby,” he whispered huskily against my ear, his pace starting to become more urgent. “Can you feel how deep I'm getting? How hard I'm fucking you?” His fingers dug into my hip as he pulled me onto his length again and again.

With one hand, he managed to lift my leg up despite the limited space, tilting my hips at a perfect angle for deeper entry. “You wanted this, didn't you?” he growled against my ear, fucking me harder. “Teasing me got you here and now you’re getting what you deserve.”

He snapped his hips against me, the angle and his size hitting spots that made my eyes water. “This bunk isn’t giving me enough room to really destroy this pussy like I want,” he panted, “But it’ll do. You’re still taking my big cock like a good girl.”

He removed my hand from my mouth and forced it down between my thighs, curling my fingers against my swollen bud. “Touch yourself,” he ordered, “Let me hear you only, baby.”

I bit my lip, trying to keep my moans quiet as Chris fucked me from behind. “Chris... Mmmph... Right there...” My hand moved softly against my clit, matching his rhythm. The bus’s movement and engine noise helped muffle my sounds slightly.

“Fuck, baby...” Chris groaned against my neck, his kisses becoming more urgent. “I’ve waited so fucking long to feel this tight pussy wrapped around my dick.” He thrust deep and hit a spot that made me gasp. “God damn, you worked me up good.”

“Mmmm... you’re getting so close already, aren’t you, baby?” he growled in my ear, his thrusts becoming more powerful. “Can feel your pussy squeezing my cock... fuck...”

“Fuck...Chriss” I moaned softly, fingers moving faster against my clit. Chris suddenly grabbed my jaw possessively, making me face him over my shoulder. “Look at me when I fuck you,” he ordered, snapping his hips against my ass, going deeper.

“Ahh... Chris...!” I moaned loudly, my eyes hazy and glossy as he kissed me deeply. His tongue shoved into my mouth aggressively, saliva spilling over our lips as he pulled apart for a breath, strings forming between our open mouths. “Mmmph...!”

Chris's thrusts became erratic, his hips slapping against my ass as he chased his release. His kisses grew sloppier with each thrust, saliva dripped down our chins as he moaned into my mouth repeatedly.

“Shit... Baby...” He kissed down my neck roughly, leaving faint hickeys. “Gonna fill this pretty pussy...!” He growled, his body tightening as he came deep inside me. I cried out softly, fingers rubbing my clit faster as I followed him over the edge.

“Mmhmph...!” I moaned, pushing back against him. “Fuck... Yes... Like that... Fill me up, Chris... God...!” My fingers moved furiously against my sensitive bud as he pounded into me, releasing his hot seed deep inside. “Chris...!”

Chris groaned loudly, his body shuddering as he emptied himself inside me. “Fuck... baby...” He panted heavily against my neck, still thrusting slowly as we both rode out our orgasms. “Your pussy feels so fucking good.”

Chris pulled out slowly, causing us both to moan softly at the loss of contact. He settled onto his back, chest heaving from exertion. I turned to face him, placing my hand gently on his muscular chest, still sensitive from pleasure.

I watched his length closely, realizing it was still rock hard. I wet my lips subconsciously and wrapped my small hand around his base. “Need some help with this?” I asked softly, pumping him slowly. His hips jerked slightly. “Baby...” He watched my small hand working him.

I brought my lips close to his neck, my warm breath fanning over his skin. I wanted nothing more than to take him into my mouth, but the small space made it difficult. So instead, I kissed and sucked on his neck gently, my hand continuing to pump him slowly.

“Mm...” Chris guided my hand with his, showing me how he liked it. “Chris...” I whimpered softly, pumping him slower. “I wish I could taste you...” I admitted softly. He locked eyes with me, dark and serious.

“Once tour's over, I'll let you taste whatever you want, baby.” Chris promised darkly, his thumb brushing over my bottom lip. My hand tightened around him at the promise. “Good...” I whispered, leaning in to suck a mark onto his neck.

I started pumping him faster, my small hand moving up and down his length quickly. Chris hissed, his fingers tightening around mine. “Fuck, ma... Just like that...” He panted, his hips thrusting up slightly to meet my hand. “Gonna cum again...” He warned darkly.

“Shit...” Chris cursed softly as streams of hot liquid shot onto his abdomen. He made small, unmanly moans that made me giggle. He glared at me suddenly, finding my laugh sexy. “Mm...” He captured my lips, kissing me deeply as his body relaxed.

“Damn... look what you do to me.” Chris grabbed his boxers nearby, cleaning himself, then carefully wiping me. He tossed them aside before pulling me close. “Come here...” His voice softened.

He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me onto his chest. His large hands splayed out on my back possessively. He nuzzled his face into my hair, breathing in my scent. “We should really get some sleep…” He murmured, already feeling sleepy and content.

I snuggled closer to him, my head resting on his chest as I listened to his heartbeat slowly return to normal. His arms tightened around me protectively, and within minutes, his breathing evened out into a soft snore. I smiled softly against his chest, feeling content and safe in his arms.

A/N: a quick little one shot :> sorry for not posting! might post another chapter of “off limits” today if i’m not busy!!

TAGS: @st6rify @jetaimevous @certifiedstarrr @slvtf0rchr1s @l3sbiancvnt @wh0remikasas @r0s3luvr @emely9274 @mimiluvzpicklez @courta13 @talia-unknown @ivysturnss @kissesfromkitty @fmalewokk

╭──────────.★..─╮

𐔌 . ⋮ 𝑴𝑨𝑺𝑻𝑬𝑹 𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻 .ᐟ ֹ ₊ ꒱

╰─..★.──────────╯

[halfmoonshines]

Reckless

this is an an unnamed point in the timeline, somewhere just before Thunderbolts*

Bucky Barnes x F!Reader

summary: Bucky Barnes would consider himself a level headed man; at least in these later years of his life. He was rarely reckless. So what was it about you that made him dive over that ledge so quickly?

//or; you're not home when you're supposed to be, and Bucky is about to burn a couple of buildings down.

‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵୨˚̣̣̣͙୧ - - ୨˚̣̣̣͙୧‿

The only sound that accompanies Bucky on his trek home is silence. The sun has already set, a darkened twilight pulling at the edges of the skyscrapers at his back. The house he was in the process of buying sat on the very edge of usually bustling city streets, close enough for both him and his fiancee to conduct business but not in the trenches of downtown traffic, either.

He pauses just before the front door, a furrow between his brow, and scans the long road for any sign of the familiar car that should be parked there. You were almost always home by now, your job not keeping you past a sharp 5pm on the worst of days; but maybe you were out with friends?

He shakes his shoulders slightly, trying to relieve the tension there, and bites back at his anxiety. There was no reason that you weren't perfectly safe, and maybe he would find a text waiting for him when he fished his phone out of his pocket.

He did just that, placing his keys on the table in the dining room and sticking his hand into the pocket of his dark washed jeans. The screen lit his face in the dim light of the house, but it didn't show anything that he had wanted to see.

No notifications.

Against his better judgment, there was a bubble of dread pooling in his stomach. You almost always told him where you were going, especially if you knew that you weren't going to be home when he arrived.

Bucky's jaw worked against itself for just a moment before he makes the silent decision to check your location. He doesn't make a habit of it, and insisted when he asked for it that it was just going to be for emergencies. You hadn't minded either way, more than happy to share it with him if it gave him some peace of mind.

He opened the app with a slightly shaking finger and almost crushed his phone in his hand when it announced that it did not have a current location for you. Last known location was home, nearly three hours ago.

The phone slammed onto the counter and Bucky scrubbed a hand over his face, mind instantly going through the different possibilities of your whereabouts. He tries to remember if you had told him you had some sort of appointment, there was never service in the doctors office, so your location wouldn't update. But three hours?

He dials your number and it rings through to that pitchy voicemail song you insisted was endearing but lasted way too long. Hanging up with a low growl, he dials the number again and his heart beats in time with the ringing on the line. Voicemail, again.

His keys are in his hand and he's dialing a new number before he can even think about it, heading to the garage to get his motorcycle.

"Do you miss me that much? We saw each other thirty minutes ago." Sam's joking but he sounds tense, instantly aware that Bucky should not be calling him right now.

"She didn't tell me where she was going." The tarp is ripped off of his bike angrily. "Her location hasn't updated in three hours and when it was working, it says she was home." Bucky heaves a breath, shutting his eyes for a moment. "No signs of forced entry. But something isn't right, Sam."

"Meet at my office in ten, we'll see if we can't get some footage. Keep calling her."

Bucky nods to himself and reopens his eyes.

"And Bucky?"

"Yes?"

"She's going to be fine."

Bucky's grip on his phone is too tight as he presses the end call button. You would be fine; or a whole lot of people wouldn't be.

The feeling of the gun strapped to his hip is familiar in a disgusting way, but it's also the promise of vengeance. He would be whatever version of himself he needed to keep you safe.

--

You definitely should not have come to this new bulk store on its first day open, but your best friend had basically strong armed you into checking out the opening day sales and grabbing her a list of things because she was on the night shift at the hospital.

It was like Costco and Fred Meyer had a baby, some conglomerate bulk buy store with insane prices but equally insane hours and popularity.

You huff a sigh as your loading the overfull cart into the trunk of your car, the quickly darkening sky a sign that the trip took way too long. You feel your body go completely still as your phone buzzes incessantly in your pocket. When you first walked out of the store, you thought that it was just Rachel texting you over and over about whether or not you got the correct things. But it hadn't stopped, and you realized with sharp clarity that it could very well be Bucky. Panicking over your whereabouts. It was well past your time to be home, and you hadn't remembered to leave a note in the rush to get there before the store closed.

Fishing your phone out of your jacket pocket, your heart hammers in your chest against the sight. 20 missed calls from Bucky, a few from Sam, and a whole slew of texts. You don't bother to sift through them all, You just punch Bucky's number in and hit dial. Hoping that he isn't terrified.

"Doll." The voice isn't coming from the receiver of your phone, but behind you.

You whirl around and Bucky is there, just a few feet behind you, and advancing. You notice immediately that he's stiff as a board, a taut pull at his shoulders and jaw clenched tight. Your eyes snag at the gun on his hip before he's on you, arms enveloping you in a tight hug. He doesn't like to carry that with him anymore. He must've been really worried.

"I'm so sorry. I forgot to text you or leave a note and Rachel insisted I come tonight but I barely had time to get in there after work.." Bucky pulls away from you just slightly, those ocean eyes pitching a tempest. "I'm sorry, Buck. I'm okay."

He pulls back into you then, his head resting on your shoulder. You can feel his breaths ease to match yours, and he just holds you in this bustling parking lot like no one else exists.

"I thought I was going to have to burn this place down." His voice is gravelly, but it's mostly a joke.

You pull away and give him a sly smile. "You thought it was a super secret cover up for a kidnapping ring?"

Bucky shrugs, slinging an arm over your shoulder and leading you to the passenger seat of the car. "Whatever it was, it wasn't going to be anymore."

You laugh lightly and slide into the opened door, marveled by your very own super soldier once again.

"Sounds reckless."

He pauses before he shuts the car door, leaning over so you're face to face again. "Always reckless for you, sweetheart." A quick peck to your lips and he's shutting the door.

Reckless, indeed.

[hedwig221b]

do u have any au fic recs of like sci fi or fantasy worlds ? even better if they r merged with an already existing universe/story. thank u !

Hi! Maybe you'll like these ones? Don't know about the merging, tho

you're the only north star (dear god)

"I will go to the ends of the known universe, I will dive through a fucking black hole, I will walk unarmed with my hands tied into the Nemeton if it means getting him back," Derek says lowly. "But I can't do that if I haven't slept for eight days, and I can't sleep without Stiles."

alone in this crowded room by Spikedluv

After Stiles has lost too many people, for which he blames himself, he closes his heart off, determined to remain alone until he meets the one person he can’t keep out.

The Space Within by hitorimaron

Derek used his forged identity to secure a spot at the Beacon - a flagship of the Intergalactic Alliance patrolling the edges of the known universe. That should be enough to escape his past, right?

The Decay of a Cosmos by Dexterous_Sinistrous

The memory of Derek confessing to him in the quiet of their shared resignation sparked from her words–“A child is leverage to my mother.” Derek knew what Talia wanted. And he refused to give it to her. Stiles’ hands tightened into fists. This was a gift, but not one Derek had given him willingly. He would live with that knowledge each time he held their son close. ~*~ A tale as old as arranged marriage, with a space opera twist.

Almost Human by Winchesterek

Synthetics are part of everyday life, with Hale Robotics leading the industry in synthetics for everyday living, companions, and police force standard MX combat models. Stiles is a DRN; his programming is built around Synthetic Souls. The aim of synthetic souls was to mimic the soul of a human being, allowing a synthetic android to experience feelings & emotions and to form emotional attachments or empathetic bonds. DRNs have been out of use for decades because they were too lifelike for their human counterparts. Derek Hale, heir to Hale Robotics, finds Stiles in his junkyard, where he's been a mechanic for the last 24 years. The last thing he expected was the android to be functional, much less it being a Hale DRN, which is the last project his mother had been working on before the fire. And Stiles was unlike any other DRN that Derek had ever seen before… he was so human and lifelike that Derek hated him for it.

Left at the Astroid Belt by rlnerdgirl

It's just Stiles' luck that when he finally manages to wear down Captain Finstock and land an engineering gig on his very first spaceship the whole thing to go tits up almost immediately. So, Stiles gets juice for life-support. It’s the absolute most minimal juice, but juice nonetheless. The oxygen scrubbers are old, congested with buildup, and even an acid-wash only makes them 15% more productive, but it’s 15% he didn’t have before. Besides, he doesn’t need the entire ship supporting life. He focuses oxygen where he wants it, seals everything else off, and carries his helmet around when he explores in case he wants to access non-supported areas. Water comes with life support. It’s in even worse condition but he’s only one person, he makes it work. Food is a problem.

Triton's Folly by Kaye_Fraser, S3anchaidh

As an officer in the United Earth Alliance, Major Derek Hale understands the order of things and his place in the world. Yet, a decade of war and a lifetime of dedicated service have taken its toll. The only thing that has kept him sane all these years is the video logs of a scientist he’d found years ago, buried in the rubble of a research station on Callisto. He knows that the man in the videos – Stiles – is long gone, lost to the vastness of space, but to Derek, he’s alive. In fact, he thinks he has fallen half in love with the boundless energy and bright-eyed optimism of the image he sees on his screen. Then, everything changes when a fateful mission strands him on the surface of a desolate moon … and brings him face-to-face with a man he had only ever dreamed of meeting.

In Other Words, Baby, Kiss Me by primroseshows

Stiles has simple goals in life. To successfully complete his secret radar project without getting fired, to get a cottage on the Moon, and to untangle his mess of feelings for Moon Station 3 deputy, Derek Hale. Heck, he'll even settle for two of the three.

The Circus at the End of the World by mikkimouse

Three hundred years ago, the world ended not with a bang or a whimper, but with magic. Since then, magic has been outlawed, and the world has clawed its way back to some kind of stability, with people and shifters alike divided between living within the walled safety of the Havens, or the small, less protected outposts dotting the frontier. Derek Hale and his sisters, Laura and Cora, are the proprietors of Hale's Circus of Magic, Monsters, and Mystical Wonders, known colloquially as the Circus at the End of the World. They and their ragtag pack ride the rails between the outposts and the Havens, performing for those who can pay (and some who can't). Their circus is a small haven in and of itself, a place of safety for those who have nowhere else to go. It's a quiet life…until Stiles Stilinski joins the crew. The circus has something Stiles needs—a ticket into the Haven of Santa Francesca. His father has been abducted, and Stiles is determined to get him back no matter what he has to do. But Stiles has another secret, one that puts him and every member of the circus in danger. And if he's not careful, it could get them all killed.

A Ship Without a Mate Sinks by sarcasmandirony

Stiles persuades Scott into checking out the old ship anchored by the docks, of which Derek is captain.

Space Pirate Samba by Wrenegade

That awkward moment when your fiance comes back from the dead as a space pirate trying to rob you and your sister's ship.

[masterlist link]

[missust3l3vision]

Always Be You

Description: George is so scared of losing you that he puts all his cards on the table. Blurting out his feelings is always a good idea right?

Being friends with George was awesome. So fucking awesome. From being each others bus buddies from the age of 5 to 18 and having almost every class together. Y/n had been his neighbour since he began primary.

Now, several years later they were just as close. Eachothers emergency contacts, biggest supporters, and as you could probably guess long time crush.

His mum told him probably a thousand times that they would end up together. Everytime she caught her son waiting for her to text back or when he'd leave for school early to have enough time to pick her up.

George fell for her after though his soul knew since the first time they met. When he finally figured out she also liked him he thought it was something he had missed his chance on.

The day his mum telling him that she liked him, only for him to shake his head and run off to his bedroom.

Now, he stood infront of her apartment. He was there for a party and to meet her new "friend" Michael.

She had asked him to come as a favour and wasn't given any details.

He seethed at the thought of him. He had not wanted to go, but knew this meant a lot to you. Knocking on the door you opened it.

Wearing a dress he bought for you and earrings his mother gave you. You looked like a dream come true.

"George! Its about time you got here" you said as you ushered him in. He loved the feeling of her hands on him.

Walking in he was met with the smell of something delicious cooking on the stove and the flat empty.

"Where's everyone else?" He asked, he was mentally freaking out that it might just be the three of you.

"No one, just us" she confessed "I have something important I wanted to ask.

A million worries came to him as he stood in the same kitchen he spent many late nights in. He nodded for her to keep going.

"So I know you're worried about me and Michael-"

"I'm in love with you!" He shouted. The fuze of his heart being lit in the same amount it took to explode "And I have been for awhile. I know you don't love me anymore but I can't have you talking about him around me" he wanted to cry "I just can't"

He slumped into the barstool. You watching him with an open open mouth

"I'm in love with you too" you said, your voice barely above a whisper. 8 year old you would have fainted at this point. Admitting it to your diary was nothing to admitting it to the man himself.

She had known longer but let the feelings inside her simmer. She gave up hope, but a little bit of her never gave up. Now seeing the man in front of her she was glad she kept it.

He flung himself up, kissing you passionately. His weight on you a gentle indication of how much he truly loved you. Finally backing away yo let you each breathe. She looks at him with a Dazed look

"Now back to why I invited you over, Michael is getting married and I was hoping you'd be my plus one...everyone else is coming to the party in 20, I just wanted to ask before" George rolled his eyes, not at her but at his own silly jealousy.

"Yeah I'd love to come" he leans in, kissing her again "As long as I can go as your boyfriend" she pretended to think, tapping her finger but before she could answer he leaned in again.

"Your mum is going to explode when we tell her" his face fell. He had to do something he hated, telling his mum that she was right.

[moth2flamewriting]

Easier

So, I figured I would take my time putting this one out. I don't like feeling like I'm rushing to write and then giving you guys bullshit to read.

I appreciate all the positive feedback, it makes me feel super confident in my writing!

ENJOY.

"You makin' love so easy," the words lazily slipped out of her mouth.

"That's cause we was meant to be Annie," Smoke grinned.

The Beginning of the Day...

She woke up to and immediately thought the worst. It had been almost 2 years since Smoke came back to town. She was prepared for the worst and hoping for the best.

Her furrowed brows loosened as aromas wafted in from the doorway.

He was making her breakfast, well lunch.

She rolled out of bed on a hot July afternoon. In complete bliss from the last 2 years she's had with her husband.

He'd been so consistent, so.. present. The war wasn't holding him hostage. He was clear minded. He was focused, and it was on her.

As she got up, Elijah walked through the door with a big shit eating grin.

"I got sumn' for ya." He was always doing something.

"You gotta close ya eys if you wanna see,' he teased.

Annie was always in the mood for his surprises.

"Lijah, don't let me fall now,' she joked back.

He guided her out through their living room and into the kitchen.

"Baby.. you've really outdone yourself," turning into his chest with happy tears falling down her face.

64 roses arranged on the kitchen table. A note. Not only that, there sat a ring.

They were already married, but this? This was a moment she always dreamed of sharing with him. Specifically, him.

Approaching the table, hands gravitating towards the letter that read:

Annie,

I waited a long time to come back to what we had. I ran. I hurt you. I should've stayed here with you. I can't change the past, only what I do from here on out. And that's show you.

I prayed for you, not even knowing who the prayer is going to. I just pleaded with whoever to get me back to you. Asked the big hole in the sky day in and day out to reunite us. I love you Annie. Everyday that passes by I wake up loving you more than I did yesterday.

You are the light on my darkest days. You are the moon and the stars and everything in between. What better way to prove that to you? I dedicate my life to your happiness, peace, and wellbeing. I'm choosing you in this moment the way I choose you every day.

I know in every lifetime that you & I will be reunited because when it's meant to be, it lasts forever.

Thank you for who you are. For helping me become who I am. Now I just have one more question for you baby..

Yours forever,

Elijah

p.s. Turn around!

She was gasping for breath, chest rising and falling so rapidly.

She turned. And there he was, on bended knee, reaching for the ring.

Tears welded in their eyes. THIS MOMENT, specially made for them.

"Now, I know you probably thinking I done lost my damn mind. But I have to have you for the rest of my life. So I was wonderin' if you would be my wife?," he asked.

"I'd marry you one hundred times over Elijah," she replied.

He placed the ring on her finger. It was a perfect fit. They were perfect for each other.

He knew that this was something she longed for even after they got married. He made her dreams a reality.

What started off as a kiss of appreciation, escalated quickly into a heavy session. Tongues dancing, hands gliding up and down eachothers bodies.

He cups her face with two large hands, caressing her cheeks. Plants a sweet kiss on her lips. Her forehead. Her cheek. Traveling down her face licking, biting and sucking on her neck.

Her hands holding the back of his head. If he wasn't holding her up, her knees would've gave out right from under her.

"Smoke you bitin' me so hard, you gon leave a mark," she hissed.

Everybody knew she was his already anyway, it wouldn't be the first time she had to walk around with love marks.

"I can't keep my mouth off of you, you're so sexy," he growled into her chest. "Take your shirt off," he demanded.

She obeyed his request.

Soft, plump titties fell out of her dress. He was mesmerized. Her nipples were so hard, sensitive to the touch. He wanted to suck them. That sent her body into a frenzy.

He pulled her towards the couch where he sat down and pulled her to sit in his lap. Her breast directly in his face, he took the erect nipple in his mouth. Sucking lightly, biting them softly. Moans fell out of her mouth. She dug her nails into his shoulder, leaving marks.

"Elijah, the way you touching me got me going crazy, I can feel my pussy getting wet for you," she moaned.

His dick was hard as fuck. Between the titties, the moans and her rocking back and forth on his dick.

She felt him growing under her. She needed more friction. She rocks harder. The only barrier between then are her panties. She's leaking onto his pants.

"Baby, I'm bout to cum for you."

"Oh no no noooo," he stops her. He grabs her around waste with one hand to lift her up a little, he uses his other hand to rip her panties off and pull his dick out.

Her body hovered in the air as he lined himself up with her slick opening. He guided the tip of his dick into her gushy, warm pussy.

Annie's head fell back, mouth agape, "Ohhh my god Daddy, i feel so full already." He wasn't even in her yet.

"Your dick is so big baby, I don't think I can take that." She said that everytime.

"You can take it baby, I'm gon lower you on this dick nice and slow," he growled.

Her pussy was too wet. Too warm. It was too good.

She sank further onto him. Taking breaks in between.

"Smoke, please just fuck me with this much.. I can't take nomore dick," she begged him.

"Aw baby, you almost there," he wraps his hands around Annie holding her ass open with one cheek and rubbing her asshole slowly, using her pussy juices as lubricant.

She could help but sink down on his dick as he played in her ass. Slightly teasing her hole.

She screamed, "Fuck Daddy! You're so big."

He began to lift her up slowly using her ass cheeks as leverage. Her pussy was so slick on his dick. Dripping all over them. She was riding him so slow, he thought be might cum right then and there.

"Your pussy is so fucking good, I'm gon spend the resr of my life diggin' in you baby," Smoke moaned.

"You like the way I ride that dick daddy? Put your finger back in my ass so I can bust all over you," she was playing a dangerous game.

He teased at her ass making him ride him harder. She's slamming her pussy on to his dick now. He can feel her heartbeat he so deep inside her.

"I love you baby," she whimpers.

"I love you Elijah."

"Your dick is so good."

"You tearing me up Smoke."

"You so deep in me baby, fuck."

She was a wreck. His dick made her dizzy. It was soooo good.

"Annie baby.. I- I'm boutta nut all in your pussy. Your pussy grippin my dick so good," his hips started to buck.

Annied lowered her lips to his ear. "I'm about to squirt all over you daddy. Right there. Don't stop pounding my pussy oh my-," it gushed out of her all over his dick. He fucks her even harder.

"I love fucking this pussy baby, Daddy bout to cum right in you," he grunts.

Annie's slamming her pussy onto him. Over and over. It sounds like a love audience.

"Cum in this pussy daddy. Please nut in me," she begged.

Hammering into her, he releases all cum in her with a string of cuss words to follow.

"Oh fuck Annie, i'm fucking cummin' in this wet ass pussy.. you got the best fuckin pussy baby. You're so beautiful."

They both slow down to look at each other. He's still inside of her. Neither one of them want to part.

Trying to find words, they just stare in admiration.

"I love you, Elijah."

"I love you, Annie."

"You makin' love so easy," the words lazily slipped out of her mouth.

Her head now nestled in his neck.

"That's cause we was meant to be Annie," Smoke grinned.

They spent the rest of the day basking in their "engagement" and making love all over their house.

Exactly the way it would always be.

Just them.

the end.

[texasteaparty]

Soulmate Hangster au

A soulmate universe where 87% of the population has text writing depicting the name of their soulmate, Bradley is born without a mark at all.

Carole and Nick are aghast, but do their best to be supportive. Their own marks match, in loopy cursive along their inner elbow.

But when Bradley is 4, he wakes up to the burning sensation on his back that makes him cry out. His parents are there in an instant, soothing and confused, both watching in surprise as the beginnings of a mark etches into their sons shoulder—

—but not as writing, or even the start of a name, but as a murky, blurred symbol.

As Bradley grows up, he begins to hide his mark. Not because he's ashamed, or that he doesn't like it, but because it's special. He knows his match is out there somewhere, and their bond is destined for greatness. For something beautiful.

Mav says his mark looks like an unfocused image of an f-14, and his dad agrees. His mom says it doesn't matter what it might be, just that he's sure to have one helluva soulmate if their mark is that of a fighter pilots plane. Uncle Ice spends the following month teaching him the ins and outs of a tomcat, and any other plane Bradley wishes to learn about as well.

High school is a mess. Girls and boys alike flock to Bradley because he's so secretive of his mark. Bets and rumors and guesses flood the student body about who it might be, and why Bradley is hiding it.

(A notable rumor is that his mark names that of a teacher, and that he's secretly fucking them after class everyday. How some people got to that, he'll never know, but it's hilarious. )

Although he gets accepted into Annapolis, he still wants to see if anything may tickle his fancy, so he opts into attending Virginia state university. It's okay, pretty boring and definitely not what he wants to do with his life. So back to school he goes.

Flight school is grueling but people there aren't as worried about marks as they are about surviving the onslaught of hell week and training exercises and studying. Bradley gets acquainted with Natasha, a fiery female pilot that threatens to kick his balls the first time they met.

He also meets Jake Seresin. A very arrogant asshole that makes Bradley want to simultaneously tame the brat and simply lie down and let him show off how he desires. It's confusing and arousing and Bradley can't help but want more; more interaction, more arguments, more more more.

But the one thing that holds him back is that Jake mentions his mark—or lack thereof. He tells it simply, that he's markless and proud and doesn't give a rats ass about soulmates and marks and what anyone thinks.

Bradley, who has spent years yearning for his other half, for his mark to make sense, to share a bond like his parents, like his uncles, he struggles with this.

Because on one hand he's drawn to Jake, but he's also weary of trying to go forth.

So he does neither and let's the festering feelings boil in his chest, and only let's it out as sharp remarks and scathing words. He and Jake become the infamous rivals—always picking apart the others' flaws and performance, always at each other's throats.

Years pass by, and Bradley catches glimpses of Jake on base, on carriers, at local bars with Coyote and some civilian hanging off his arm. He doesn't try to approach him, for fear of that bubbling something in his chest boiling over and spilling out for all to see.

They go to Top Gun, then go their own ways again. Bradley keeps up with Jake's career through inconspicuous probing to uncle Ice and uncle Mav, who answer his questions with knowing looks and teasing jibes.

Time passes. Then one evening Bradley was cooking and everything was fine, until he's brought to his knees by the burning burning burning on his back, his mark scathing so bad he's almost in tears clutching at the countertop. He panics and calls Mav and when the older pilot shows up and checks him over, he's surprised when Mav says his mark had changed, expanded. His tiny little tomcat mark now has two fighter jets, one slightly higher and to the left of his original. Mav doesn't know what it means, nor does Ice or his parents when they call them. So Bradley hopes it means something good and tries to move on.

Then they get called back for the uranium mission.

Bradley hasn't seen Jake in years now, he isn't prepared for Jake at the hard deck to be so bright, to be so cocky. To have a soulmark proudly displayed on the side of his throat, so beautiful and out of this world; the matching mark to Bradley's own.

Theyre soulmates.

It makes sense, then, to him. All those years he spent with Jake at the back of his mind, always a second thought during his days. The need to know what Jake was doing, how he was doing. The desire to learn what Jake's lips taste like. What his skin feels like under his fingertips.

He's breathless and surprised and thrown off guard and almost stumbles when Jake's gaze finally lands on him. "Bradshaw, as I live and breathe."

Bradley has to hope his face isn't doing something ridiculous as he replies, "Hangman, you look" amazing perfect mine "...good."

He has to talk to Jake, but alone. Not right now. They have time.

[huntingcupid]

PEOPLE YOU KNOW — S.L

we used to be close, but people can go from people you know to people you don't and what hurts the most is people can go from people you know to people you don't

⌗ SOPHIA — fem!reader, angst, swearing, vamp!soph, killing, manipulation, biting, guilt, etc...

⌗ SYPNOSIS — your parents always warned you about supernatural beings such as vampires yet what if that very being is the woman you love with all your heart

⌗ CUPID — request by the lovely @mei2yok, here ya go

you were raised in a heavily religious and superstitious family, you'd often sit with your parents as a kid listening to them talk about demons, succubus, and vampire's

it wasn't hard to believe, especially in your small town — seeing your neighbors mysteriously disappear or die with a distinct bite mark on their necks the life sucked out of them, it scared you as a kid even when you grew up

you studied hard, and worked to save money and potentially leave this town — make a new life somewhere safer and better, during your highschool years you met her, you met sophia laforteza

from the well known and problematic family of laforteza — rumors spread around about them being vampire's or related to that somehow yet sophia was different she's sweet and thoughtful very smart too

you'd often lay in a grass field and talk about dreams of leaving the city, promising each other to not leave on another

“no literally, i want to move somewhere like new york, it seems so beautiful in the tv” sophia says her hand on yours as you nod thoughtfully — “me too, i want to feel safe and don't worry about stupid things like vampires” you replied, her hands went stiff, and she bit back a response which you noticed but chose not to pry at, “y/n, are you scared of them?” sophia breaks the silence

for a minute you thought about it, cases flashing in your eyes, are you?, “i don't know soph, i just don't wanna see more people die — especially you” you murmur back, sophia felt guilty, so guilty knowing how much you cared about her and how she's lying to you

“don't worry about me” sophia replies softly, interlocking her fingers with yours, a sense of comfort washes over you with her soft words — “yeah, just don't die” you replied chuckling a bit

the next few weeks the town was eerily quiet — only gossip flew around, sophia seemed sick to, her usually bright and glowing skin now pale and cold, her eyes losing its life, you worry and decide to visit her after school

you walk to her house with some freshly baked cookies and her favorite juice — you went in without knocking, the house was dark and a gust of cold wind met you which sent shivers down your spine, you look around searching for sophia

“soph?” you call out, your voice echoing back — you take off your shoes and walk up to her bedroom, her door slightly ajar, you peek only to feel your heart drop, liza your friend was being held by sophia as her lips attached to her neck sucking the blood out — you drop the plate of cookies making a loud thud, sophia immediately looks up her fangs dripping with liza's blood, her eyes blazing — “fuck!” you scream out scared, you run to the front door only to get pushed down on the ground by sophia

“y/n i can explain!” she stutters, yet you can't look at her, disgust and fear running in your mind, you keep replaying that moment when liza was dying in her arms, “soph! get away from me” you scream back kicking your feet as she struggles to go near you, “you fucking murderer, i can't believe it” you mutter backing away from her, tears now streaming down your face out of guilt that you couldn't help, guilt that you didn't know how much of a monster she was

“y/n you don't fucking get it!, I need her blood, I've been starving! — it would've been you if I didn't control myself!” sophia reasons out pinning your legs down using her arms, you hated how she made you feel how you still felt comfortable in her arms even after what you saw, “soph- get away” you sob, scared

sophia melted feeling awful, she cradles you resting your head on her shoulders as she reassures you, “y/n I'm sorry, my love please understand me” she murmurs into your head kissing the top of it, “w-why?” you stammered, “i can't stop what i am y/n, i tried and tried protecting you — from my family, i knew you cared about me and i care about you too” sophia explains as you start to trust her again, yet that gnawing guilt builds inside you

“how about liza, she had a life — a family” you mutter, “I'm sorry y/n, i'll bury her body later” sophia explains

you snap feeling as though where is the justice where is the moral in that — “fuck no!, you're gonna admit to her murder and fucking beg for forgiveness from her family” you scream, pulling yourself away from the older girl, anger simmering in your veins, “i thought you would understand me” sophia grits, her hands tighten fisting — with an impossible speed she pins you against the wall her hands flying to your neck, “what you're gonna kill me too?!, go fucking ahead” you mutter, fear was still in you yet at this point you didn't care, her fangs sink into your neck, you close your eyes out of agony and pain, you waited for your life to drain away yet nothing happened

you felt lightheaded and that's when you realized she didn't kill you, she turned you into one of them, the hunger she felt was now what you felt too

a week passed, and nothing changes the feeling of betrayal in you, here you stand before liza's family seeing them sob uncontrollably while sophia grips your hands tightly flashing them a fake sympathetic expression

you felt sick, sick to your stomach that your here lying and covering up for sophia — yet through this all you hated that you loved her, hated how you became something you were scared and disgusted of

wc: 1k words, im back haha

[wchswift]

── 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐬

pairing! logan howlett x fem!reader

→ summary! logan is obsessed with you and he can't quit this passion and need for you. ─ very inspired by the song animals from maroon 5. → contents! ex dynamic, toxic passion, feral lust, kind of predator-prey dynamic, 70s Logan, dark Logan, mention of sex, possessive behavior, feral obsession mdni 𖤐 18+ !! → word count! 945

linas note: sooo I know I've been off from here but I'm having trouble focusing while I write, I have the idea but it's like my fingers can't write. So today I had a little motivation and in a few minutes I wrote this. I don't usually write things in this style or with this kind of dynamic (I probably won't write something like this again lol). But I heard animals today and it came to mind, so I had to write it.

He finds you again, just like he always does—like it’s instinct, like there’s something in your scent that burns its way through the fog in his brain and drags him to wherever the hell you’re hiding this time. You’re always hiding. But it’s never far enough. Not from him. Not when you smell like sweet and skin and sweat he’s already memorized. The alley’s wet, neon bouncing off puddles, and you’re leaning against the wall like you’re waiting for someone who isn’t him—but your eyes flick up the second you hear his boots scrape asphalt and you know. You always know.

You don’t say his name. You don’t have to. Your eyes go wide, sharp, a flicker of fight behind them because you always want to fight when you see him again. It’s the only thing keeping your hands from clawing his shirt open and your teeth from sinking into his shoulder. “Logan,” you breathe like a curse, like a spell, like something old and carved into the back of your ribs. He doesn’t answer. He’s already in front of you, already pressing you to the brick, hands framing your face, breath hot and ragged. “Thought you could run,” he growls, low, not quite human. “Thought I wouldn’t find you?”

You shove at him, weak and stupid and desperate, because you want to hurt him for wanting you this bad. For you wanting him this bad. “You said it was done,” you spat, nails digging into his arms. “You said you’d leave.” He grins, teeth sharp, something feral dancing in his eyes. “I lied.” Then he’s kissing you, bruising and rough, all teeth and tongue and hunger, like he’s starving and you’re the only thing he’s ever wanted to eat.

It’s always like this—explosive, filthy, dangerous. You cut him out. You leave town. You swear you’re free. But then the wind shifts, and there he is again, scenting the air, tracking you down like you’re his fucking prey. And maybe you are. Maybe you like it. Maybe you love the way his voice scrapes across your skin like claws, the way his hands grip your thighs like he’s anchoring himself to the only thing that ever made sense. You tell yourself you’re over it, you’re better off, but your body betrays you every time—melts under him, arches into his touch, begs for more.

You get him inside, eventually. Inside your apartment. Inside your bed. Inside you. And when he’s there—when he’s in you—it’s the only time you stop pretending. The only time you stop fighting and just feel. His breath stutters against your neck, and he says your name like it’s killing him, like it’s salvation and damnation in the same breath. “You’re like a drug,” he groans, forehead pressed to yours. “You fucking ruin me.”

You laugh, broken and breathless, and pull him deeper. “Good. You deserve it.”

And maybe he does.

You try to quit each other. You try. He disappears for a week, a month, sometimes more. You block his number, leave town, fuck someone else just to prove you’re not tethered to him. But it never sticks. No one else tastes like him, feels like him, wrecks you like him. No one else fucks like they’re about to tear the world apart just to stay inside you for one more second.

And when he comes back, it’s always the same. He doesn't knock. He doesn't call. He just shows up like a storm you thought passed, and there’s that look in his eyes again—that glint that says I smelled you, I found you, you’re mine. He doesn’t ask for permission. He doesn’t need it. You meet him halfway, always, teeth bared, nails out, ready to devour and be devoured.

One night, you try to break it. Try to end it. You tell him it’s over, that you’re done being hunted, that he needs to leave and never come back. He just tilts his head, like a wolf trying to understand why the deer thinks it’s safe now. “You can start over,” he says, voice low and dark. “Run free. Find someone else.” He steps forward. You step back. “But you’ll never stay away from me.”

You shake your head, your throat closing, your fists trembling. “I can. I will.” You retort. Even though you know you don't want to.

He closes the space, fingers brushing your cheek, and it’s so gentle you hate him for it. “I can still hear you,” he whispers. “The sounds you make. The way you moan when I—” his lips graze yours, and you don’t stop him. You can’t. “You can pretend it was someone else, but it wasn’t. It’s me. It’s always gonna be me.”

And you break.

Because he’s right.

You’re not prey.

You’re not the hunted.

You’re just as fucked as he is.

You were made for this—the heat, the ache, the wild, the blood, the way your bodies collide like war and worship. You were made to claw at each other, to tear each other open and lick the wounds clean. You were made to crawl back, again and again, even when it kills you. Because he’s the high. The addiction. The poison you’d drink twice.

You’re both animals.

And you were never meant to survive this.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

[lemotmo]

Just rewatched the episode and omg the kitchen scene. Absolute cinema. Eddie just walking in calmly seeing the groceries seeing buck and then realising buck is pissed about something. It's so married coded. How many times have i seen arguments like this. Starting off small innocuous and then the actual problem comes out. The tension the acting... just chefs kiss. How both are hurting and just want the other to hug them. The lighting the cinematography. Hands down one of my favourite scenes in the show if not one my favorite buddie scene.

Only wish they hadn't had Ryan do the move forward and point at buck thing. Only because all I see are bad takes and ammunition for that Fandom that it's ruining my experience. I know I know I should ignore them but when it comes to Eddie i can't help it😅. Also made me wonder how the GA took this as. A scene between 'bros'? Or actually intimate moment? Do they even understand Eddie's characterization?

Anyway I'm gonna go and watch it again. Need to feed this into my veins.

I've combined these three asks, because they all touch upon a few topics I really wanted to talk about.

First of all, OH GOD YES! That scene was literal gold. It was soooo good! The acting was top notch, the direction and camera work were both amazing. Oliver was great as always and Ryan... well, that man has been showing us time and time again that he is one of the better actors on this show. They are all great, but that kitchen scene was on another level. I have rewatched it a billion times already! 😄

Both Buck and Eddie were at their most vulnerable in this scene. They wanted to show us that these two men KNOW each other through and through and even though they are hurting and grieving, they can still call each other out for their bullshit. It was like watching a married couple getting into a heated disagreement. Pure gold.

I'm also pretty sure the GA has caught on what is going on by now. 8x11 was very clear on the Buddie of it all. Then we had all those Facetime calls in 12 and 13. A lot of these people have been watching these kinds of procedurals for a very long time. 8x17 just made it more clear where this story is headed. They can see it coming.

Now for the discourse part of this reply:

I agree that it is VERY frustrating that some people have started using very loaded words, such as 'abuse' and 'assault', when it comes to Eddie's behaviour in the kitchen scene.

Especially because there is not an ounce of truth in any of their statements. In fact, most of these allegations are made because Eddie is clearly being set up as Buck's great big true love interest. And some fans do not agree with that, because they want Buck with someone else. So basically these 'abuse' or 'assault' claims are being made over a ship, which is frankly insane.

The way I look at it is that the majority of fans are extremely happy with the episode and especially this kitchen scene. But a small part of the 911 fandom have disliked and hated Eddie ever since BT happened. That hasn't changed. It never will, because Eddie is in the way of a plot device that used to be a racist and misogynistic bully. 🙄

And rereading that last sentence? Well, the fact that they keep stanning their own very problematic white man while openly hating on a half-Mexican man who had a short heated discussion with Buck? Tells me enough.

As for those few Buddie shippers/Buck stans who are also hating on Eddie? Pfff, again... nothing new, is it? Their precious Buckaroo needs to be protected at all times. Poor baby. 🙄

They refuse to let go of any of the arguments Buddie have ever had and where Eddie said something hurtful to Buck. I swear... the amount of times I still read about the whole 'You are exhausting' thing that Eddie once said SEASONS ago, is insane.

Why are people still stuck on that one line? Buck has long forgotten about that line, but some people still cling to it as some kind of misguided proof of abuse.

It's a dramatic TV-show! There will be drama between the characters! That's what makes these shows so interesting.

Buck is a grown man. He doesn't need coddling or babying. Having these kinds of confrontations and discussions will make him think and it will help his character evolve. There is no need to keep Buck into this 'oh poor baby' state of mind. Let him out!

Also, I don't think that any of these people yelling abuse know what they are talking about in the first place. Social media has really given a lot of people a skewed image of wat abuse really looks like.

Having a heated argument in the kitchen is NOT abuse. Using your finger to angrily point at someone is NOT abuse. Showing someone that you are also grieving and in pain? THAT IS NOT ABUSE!

It's frankly disturbing that people seem to have convinced themselves it is actual abuse, especially in a show that has shown us REAL abuse with the Maddie & Doug storyline.

If what happened in that kitchen between Eddie and Buck was abuse? My entire family, myself included, would be 'abusers'. I come from a passionate family and we have these kinds of arguments a lot. 😆 Half an hour later all is forgiven and forgotten again. 🤷‍♀️

Look, at the end of the day, there will always be unhappy people who will hate on Eddie for no reason whatsoever. It sucks, but it won't change.

I tend to ignore them and let them scream into the void. Block whenever I come across them.

Because you know what?

We all know the truth: Eddie is a wonderful man and Buck is lucky to have him in his life.

Oh and...

Buddie is going canon. Suck it up haters! 😌