#evie x sam

[speaknow-sw]

𝑺𝒂𝒅𝒅𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑺𝒊𝒍𝒌

Summary : When your car broke down in the middle of 1950s Texas, you welcome with pleasure the help of a handsome cowboy.

Word count : 2.4k

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ: mdni, 1950s AU, Cowboy! Anakin, Ditzy!, Wealthy! Reader, surnames (doll, peach, dollie,), kissing, vaginal fingering, brief pussy-eating, PiV, breeding kink, wife kink, mentions of grooming, pregnancy kink ?

AN : Okay so I got that AU in my head since FOREVER. That damn picture of Hayden with the Stetson got me ruining so many panties. Here’s a tribute to all the Cowboy delulu wifeys. Hope you’ll enjoy !!!

The sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm, golden glow over the vast Texas plains. The air was thick with the scent of wild grass and the distant hum of cicadas. You, a city girl from New York, had never seen anything like it. The endless stretch of land, so different from the concrete jungle you were used to, was both beautiful and intimidating.

You had been on your way to visit a distant relative’s ranch, a place you’d never been before, when your car—an elegant, shiny Cadillac that was far too fancy for these dusty roads—had sputtered and died in the middle of nowhere. Now, here you were, miles from the nearest town, with no idea what to do.

Your pretty summer dress, all ruffles and soft pastels, was completely out of place here, with the silk scarf wrapped around your head to protect your hair from the burning sun. Your designer heels were sinking into the dirt with every step you took around the car, trying to figure out what had gone wrong. You were lost, both literally and figuratively, your usual confidence shaken by the vastness of this wild, untamed place.

As you leaned against the car, biting your lip in frustration, the sound of hooves reached your ears. You looked up, shielding your eyes from the sun, and saw a figure on horseback approaching from the distance.

As the rider drew closer, you could make out more details—tall, broad-shouldered, with a wide-brimmed Stetson casting a shadow over his face. His horse was a magnificent creature, all muscle and grace, moving with the kind of power that took your breath away.

When he finally stopped a few feet away from you, you got your first real look at him. The man was strikingly handsome, with sandy blonde hair that curled under his hat and deep blue eyes that seemed to see right through you. He was dressed in a simple white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to reveal strong, tanned forearms, and worn jeans that clung to his legs in a way that made your heart race.

“Well, now, what’s a pretty little thing like you doin’ all the way out here ?” he drawled, his voice low and smooth, with just the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his lips.

You blinked up at him, momentarily lost for words. He was so different from the men you were used to—polished, city types in sharp suits and shiny shoes. This man was raw and rugged, with a presence that seemed to command the very air around him.

“My car…” you started, feeling a little foolish under his steady gaze. “It just… stopped. I don’t know what to do.”

He dismounted with an easy grace, the muscles in his arms flexing as he swung down from the saddle. As he approached, you could feel the heat radiating from his body, mixing with the warmth of the sun. He looked over the car, his expression thoughtful, before turning back to you.

“Well, I ain’t no mechanic, but I can take a look, dollie,” he offered, his tone kind but with an undercurrent of amusement, as if he found your predicament both endearing and a little amusing.

“Thank you,” you murmured, stepping aside to let him take a look under the hood. As he worked, you couldn’t help but watch him, the way his fingers deftly moved over the engine, the way his shirt clung to the muscles of his back as he leaned over.

After a few minutes, he straightened up, wiping his hands on a rag he’d pulled from his back pocket. “Looks like you’ve got a busted radiator, peach. You won’t be goin’ anywhere until it’s fixed.”

Your heart sank at his words. “Oh no, what am I going to do ?”

He glanced up at the sky, which was beginning to turn shades of pink and orange as the sun dipped lower. “It’s gettin’ late. Best thing would be to come back to my place. It ain’t too far, and you can stay the night. I’ll take a look at your car in the morning, doll, see what can be done.”

You hesitated for a moment, the idea of staying with a stranger making you nervous, but there was something about him—something solid and trustworthy—that made you nod in agreement. “Alright, thank you, cowboy. I really appreciate it.”

He gave you a nod and helped you up onto his horse, his hands firm and steady as they gripped your waist. You settled into the saddle, feeling a bit awkward, but his presence behind you was reassuring.

As you rode through the fields, the wind gently tugging at your hair, you couldn’t help but lean back against him, the warmth of his body seeping into yours. His arm was wrapped around you, holding the reins, and you could feel the strength in him, the quiet confidence that seemed to radiate from every part of him. 

Suddenly your silk scarf escaped from your head and you gasped. A strong hand latched backwards and caught the fabric. The cowboy winked at you and pocketed your scarf not without smelling it beforehand, leaving you speechless.

When you finally arrived at his ranch, the sky was a deep indigo, the stars just beginning to twinkle above. The house was a charming, rustic place, with a wide porch and warm, inviting lights glowing from the windows.

He helped you down from the horse, his hands lingering on your waist for just a moment longer than necessary, sending a thrill through you. As you stepped inside, you were greeted by the cozy warmth of the living room, the scent of wood and leather filling the air.

“You can make yourself at home,” he said, his voice softer now, almost intimate. “I’ll get you somethin’ to drink.”

You nodded, wandering over to the fireplace, your fingers lightly brushing over the mantel as you took in the room. When he returned, he handed you a glass of whiskey, the amber liquid glinting in the firelight.

As you took a sip, the warmth of the alcohol spread through you, mixing with the heat that had been steadily building inside you since the moment he’d appeared on that dusty road. You coughed your lungs out at the burn.

“I never did catch your name,” you said, looking up at him over the rim of your glass.

“Name’s Anakin,” he replied, his eyes locked onto yours. “Anakin Skywalker.”

You smiled, the name fitting him perfectly. “Thank you again, Anakin. For helping me.”

He took a step closer, his gaze never leaving yours. “It’s my pleasure, darlin’. Can’t leave a lady in distress.”

There was a charged silence between you, the air thick with something unspoken. You could feel the tension building, a magnetic pull that drew you closer to him, your heart pounding in your chest.

Before you knew it, he was right in front of you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. His touch was warm, his thumb brushing over your skin in a way that made your breath catch.

“You’re somethin’ else, you know that?” he murmured, his voice low and rough, filled with a hunger that sent shivers down your spine.

You could only nod, your voice failing you as you lost yourself in the intensity of his gaze.

And then he was kissing you, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was both tender and demanding. It was like nothing you’d ever experienced before—raw, passionate, and filled with a desire that made your head spin.

You melted into him, your hands finding their way to his chest, feeling the solid muscles beneath his shirt. He pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you, holding you against him as the kiss deepened.

His hands moved to the small of your back, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you. You could feel the hard lines of his body against yours, the heat of his skin seeping through his shirt, igniting a fire in you that you hadn’t even realized was there.

You gasped as his lips moved to your neck, his teeth grazing your skin in a way that made your knees weak, his stubble scratching deliciously against your throat. His hands were everywhere, sliding down your back, over your hips, exploring every inch of you with a hunger that matched your own.

“Anakin…” you breathed, your fingers tangling in his hair as he pressed you against the wall, his body pinning you there with a strength that made your pulse race.

“Shh,” he murmured against your skin, his voice a low growl. “I’ve gotcha’, darlin’. Jus’ let me take care of ya’.”

And take care of you he did. He lifted you effortlessly, carrying you to the bedroom, where he laid you down on the soft, inviting bed. The room was bathed in the soft glow of the bedside lamp, casting everything in a warm, golden light.

He stood above you for a moment, his eyes dark and intense as he took in the sight of you, his chest rising and falling with deep, steady breaths. And then he was on you, his hands and lips exploring every inch of your body, igniting a fire in you that burned hotter with every touch, every kiss.

Anakin's kisses trailed down your neck, his hands sliding over your dress, finding the zipper at the back. With a smooth motion, he pulled it down, the fabric slipping off your shoulders, exposing the delicate lace of your lingerie. His breath hitched at the sight, his eyes darkening with desire.

"Pretty, lil’ angel," he whispered, his voice husky as his fingers traced the outline of your bra, making your skin tingle. His lips followed the path of his hands, pressing hot kisses along your collarbone, down to the swell of your breasts, until you were arching into him, desperate for more.

You tugged at his shirt, your fingers fumbling with the buttons in your eagerness to feel his skin against yours. He chuckled softly, the sound sending a shiver down your spine, before he helped you, shrugging out of the shirt and tossing it aside.

The sight of him, all hard muscles and golden skin, took your breath away. His chest was broad, his abs defined, and you couldn’t resist running your hands over his torso, feeling the heat and power of him beneath your fingertips.

He groaned at your touch, his hands slipping under your bra, pushing it up to free your breasts. His mouth was on you in an instant, his tongue teasing your nipple, sending jolts of pleasure through you that had you gasping his name.

His hands were everywhere, sliding down your sides, over your hips, pushing your dress the rest of the way off until you were lying there in nothing but your panties. He paused for a moment, just looking at you, his eyes roaming over your body with a hunger that made your skin flush with heat.

Then he was kissing you again, his mouth claiming yours in a kiss that was all-consuming, his hands sliding down to your thighs, spreading them apart as he settled between them. You could feel the hardness of him pressing against you, the evidence of his desire making you ache with need.

"Anakin," you breathed, your voice trembling with anticipation as he kissed his way down your body, his hands hooking into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down with a slow, deliberate motion that left you trembling with anticipation.

He kissed the inside of your thighs, his stubble grazing your sensitive skin, making you shiver. And then his mouth was on you, his tongue stroking over your most sensitive spot, sending waves of pleasure crashing through you that made you cry out, your fingers gripping the sheets beneath you.

He didn’t stop, his tongue and fingers working together to drive you higher and higher, until you were teetering on the edge, your body strung tight with need. And then he was inside you, filling you completely, his hips moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm that had you moaning his name, your nails digging into his back. « Gonna make you a mommy, » he grunted, biting your throat. His hands gripped your waist tightly probably letting bruises. He swallowed the sweet skin of your cleavage in his mouth, suckling hickeys and pressing hot, tongue kisses on your chair. « My sweet little wife, gonna drag you on the aisle, » he pounded harder in you, his large cock reducing you at a doll-like state, your cock drunk face driving his crazy. « You’ll gimme babies, huh ? As much babies as I want. Gonna keep you round and full of me. Mine. My wife, the mother of my children. » his thrusts got sloppy and his face contorted in a mask of need.

The pleasure built and built, the tension coiling tighter and tighter until it snapped, sending you spiraling into an orgasm so intense it left you shaking, your body clinging to his as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. You screamed your release, arching your back and curling your toes.

Anakin followed you over the edge, his own release spilling deep into you as he groaned your name, his body tensing above you before he collapsed, pulling you into his arms as you both lay there, breathing hard, your bodies tangled together in the aftermath. 

The night was a blur of passion and desire, a heady mix of pleasure and sensation that left you breathless and yearning for more. Anakin moved with a confidence that only came from someone who knew exactly what he wanted, and he made sure you knew it too. He took his time with you, savoring every moment, every gasp and moan that fell from your lips. He pushed you to the edge again and again, his touch driving you wild, until you finally tumbled over, your body arching into his as you were consumed by the pleasure that only he could give you. You couldn’t count how much time he made you cum and came himself but you sure knew your belly wasn’t this bloated when you started.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke, the only sound in the room the crackling of the fire and the soft rustle of the sheets as you settled into the warmth of each other’s embrace. Then he kissed the top of your head, his lips lingering there as he murmured, "I knew you were somethin’ special, doll."

You smiled, a lazy, satisfied smile as you snuggled closer to him, your fingers tracing patterns on his chest. "I guess I’ll have to find more reasons to get stranded in Texas," you teased, your voice soft and content, the Stetson since forgotten on the floor.

The End…

[girlkisserpussylicker]

☆▪︎ MASTERLIST ▪︎☆

started| aug 23 21:56

last uploaded| aug 24 03:25

request| All open

|DNI list & about me|

Descendants 1, 2 & 3

-- Mal

nothing yet..

-- Evie

A taste of darkness in a world of light — coming soon.

-- Uma

nothing yet..

-- Audrey

nothing yet..

-- Carlos

nothing yet..

-- Jay

nothing yet..

-- Harry hook

nothing yet..

-- Ben

nothing yet..

Creepypasta

-- Ben

nothing yet..

-- Bloody painter

nothing yet..

-- Clockwork

nothing yet

-- Eyeless Jack

nothing yet..

-- Jane the killer

nothing yet..

-- Jeff the killer

nothing yet..

-- Jason the toymaker

nothing yet..

-- Laughing Jack

nothing yet..

-- Laughing Jill

nothing yet..

-- Lulu

nothing yet

-- Nina the killer

nothing yet..

-- Ticci Toby

nothing yet..

Sam and Colby

--Sam Golbach

nothing yet..

--Colby Brock

nothing yet..

--Amanda Reya

nothing yet..

--Mackie Albertson

nothing yet..

--Katrina Stuart

nothing yet..

--Jake Webber

nothing yet..

--Johnnie Guilbert

nothing yet..

Hazbin hotel

-- Charlie

nothing yet..

-- Vaggie

nothing yet..

-- Cherri bomb

nothing yet..

-- Lute

nothing yet..

-- Velvette

nothing yet..

-- Lilith

nothing yet..

-- Angel dust

nothing yet..

-- Alastor

nothing yet..

-- Husk

nothing yet..

-- Vox

nothing yet..

-- Valentino

nothing yet..

-- Adam

nothing yet..

-- Lucifer

Nothing yet..

Harry Potter

-- Harry Potter

Nothing yet..

-- Draco Malfoy

Nothing yet..

-- Cedric Diggory

Nothing yet..

-- Ron Weasley

Nothing yet..

-- Fred / George Weasley

Nothing yet..

-- Ginny Weasley

Nothing yet..

-- Hermione Granger

Nothing yet..

-- Luna Lovegood

Nothing yet..

-- Pansy Parkinson

Nothing yet..

more fandoms will be added!!

My writing

|just stuff I wrote and want to publish|

+ "kiss me"

[whatinthehale17]

Okay so, I've been working on a couple different stories so far and if anyone has any prompts for me, that'd be great.

Fandoms I'm taking suggestions for-

A League of Their Own- Gretson

Descendants- Mevie

The Wilds- Leatin

Fear Street- Sameena

The Owl House- Lumity

Ideas I have so far-

Gretson- Carson and Maxine live in the present time and play for their softball team for Rockford University. They're sent back in time however and are now stuck in the 40s where they find out how different it is back then and meet people that change their lives.

Sort of based on Back To The Future but also it diverts into it's own little thing as well.

Mevie- If you all have seen the Dcom Minutemen, it's that but sort of different. Mal is based off Virgil, Evie is based off Stephanie, Chad is based off Derek, Carlos is based off Charlie and Harry is based off Zeke and yeah its a mix of Descendants with Minutemen and its super random

Leatin- I'm currently working on one and two of the chapters are posted but it's Leatin but the Hunger Games with Fatin as Katniss, Leah as Peeta, Gretchen as Snow, Toni as Finnick, Rachel as Johanna and Shelby as Annie.

Sameena- I have some stories up for them already but im back into it and looking for new ideas if anyone has any.

Lumity- I don't have anything for them but I've been wanting to write for them so I'll appreciate any and all prompts

Yeah, thats what I have so far so if anyone has any prompts, I'd really appreciate it

[evies20dollars]

Evie: Remember how I said Sam and I were going to have a calm night out for once?

Theta: Yeah

Evie: Well, we're in jail

Theta: *hangs up*

[gloomwitchwrites]

Tattoo Artist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Content & Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): swearing, describing a man’s size, brief alcohol, non-descriptive mentions of sex, intimidation

Word Count: 3.5k

A/N: Part Twenty-One of Ink & Needle

The past resurfaces. Simon's enemy shows his face.

Chapter Twenty

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist

Three Years Ago

“Confess, bitch. Give us the details.”

Sam takes a towel to a bottle of prosecco, the cork popping as she dislodges it. Jade collects four tumblers from the mini-bar and sets them out on top of the low dresser the television sits on.

“Don’t leave anything out,” adds Jade, tossing her blue hair over her shoulder.

All of you are freshly showered and wearing the fluffy hotel provided robes. The softness is absolute heaven. Like wearing a cloud.

You sigh heavily and fall onto your back on the plush hotel bed, hands pressed over your eyes. There is a pleasant ache between your legs—a reminder of your wraith. His scent still lingers even though you stood under scalding water and scrubbed the day away. There is a hint of mint. Of black tea. A whisp of smoke.

Maybe it’s in your hair.

Maybe it’s embedded into your skin.

Thorns that have burrowed and only time will push them out or leave them to fester and infect.

“What do you want to know?” you groan, rubbing your temples.

Already, the alcohol is beginning to creep from your system, leaving a tension behind that signals an oncoming hangover. It’s not piercing yet. Just a nuisance. Sam tops off the glasses and the prosecco is distributed. The bubbly drink burns your nose a bit but it drives off the blooming headache.

Begrudgingly, you push up to a more seated position, your three best friends staring back expectantly. It’s the moment of truth. You’re facing the jury. This is your judgement.

“Was it good?” asks Sam, one eyebrow arched in question. She takes a sip of her drink, leaning slightly to the right, adjusting the front of the robe.

“Yes,” you reply slowly.

“And?” she prompts, waving her hand in a signal to go on.

“Do we have to talk about this right now?” you mutter, staring down into your dwindling glass of prosecco. If you’re going to get through this conversation, you’re going to require more.

Jade sets her glass down on the side table between the two beds. She goes up on her knees, excitement buzzing through her bones. “How big was he?” she asks. “What did it look like?”

“Jesus Christ, Jade,” you groan.

Yes. More prosecco will fix this.

“Just say when,” interrupts Jade. She brings her hands flat against each other, and then slowly starts to move them away.

Sam snorts, and then chokes on her beverage, nearly rolling off the bed as she goes for a tissue. You stare dumbly at Jade, not saying anything.

“Just say—seriously? Seriously?” Jade’s hands are unrealistically far apart. “This is impossible. I’m starting over.”

“Stop,” you laugh, grabbing her hands. “He was…decent?”

“Decent?” snaps Sam. “We don’t get any details? Color? Length?”

“Girth,” adds Jade. “A prominent vein?”

Sam rolls her eyes. “Girl. Give us something!”

You glance over at Evie. “Are you going to help me at all?”

She shrugs and sips on her prosecco. “I’m curious too,” she says softly.

You down the rest of your prosecco and immediately regret it. A wave of indigestion hits you and you swallow down a burp.

“Okay,” you concede, holding up one hand placatingly. “Fine.”

The three women settle onto the bed, all their attention on you. It takes a moment—a deep inhalation before you begin. But you do, and you tell them most of it. You talk about Ghost’s proposition out in the alleyway and of where he took you to. You describe the positions he put you in, and how damn good the man was at tonguing orgasm after orgasm out of you.

They sigh and swoon. They giggle or simply stare open-mouthed.

There are some things you don’t say. You don’t tell them how you felt in your heart when you left or the circumstances of why. The sense of needing to run was insistent and strong, but looking back—you now feel shame.

You regret not staying even for a few extra minutes.

“Damn,” sighs Sam, leaning back on one elbow.

Jade just blinks, her mind still trying to process the information.

Evie smiles behind her glass, and you know that look. “What?” you prompt, lightly smacking her thigh.

“Sounds like you had fun.” She lightly smacks your thigh back. “Aren’t you happy we went?”

Now

“Bag packed?”

“I think so. How’s Lillian?”

Evie takes a bite of her sandwich and glances down into the bassinet. “Asleep. For now.”

“How are you feeling?” you ask softly, walking around to the side of the bed. Sitting down on the edge, you lean back slightly, staring at your friend.

It’s been over a week since Archie’s parents came to visit. The rest of the day and the following, Evie was a mess. But her cheeks have color to them now, and the bags under her eyes are almost non-existent. She’s always been the mediator, but it doesn’t seem like she’s willing to the mediator in this anymore. Her fuse no longer sparks.

While Evie hasn’t spoken it out loud, her actions indicate her willingness to separate from Archie’s family completely. It would be better for everyone, but mostly for her mental wellbeing. She’s dealt with too much of their bullshit, and it’s time that she breaks away from them for good.

It’s their own fault. Their own behavior that has caused all this. It never had to come to this, and now they likely won’t see their granddaughter at all.

“Better,” she sighs. “A bit nauseous.”

“Headache?” you ask.

She nods. “I just need a little caffeine. Maybe something carbonated.”

“All the paperwork signed?”

“Yep. On the table in the kitchen.” Evie takes another bite of her sandwich, chewing slowly. “Thank you for doing this.”

“It’s fine, Evie. I’m happy to do it.”

“I know,” she says quickly. “And I know I keep thanking you, but I do mean it. Having Amelia around is wonderful, but she wouldn’t be able to do everything you’re doing for me.”

It’s true in a way. Amelia has been integral in helping with Lillian, but it is you that has spent all your time taking care of the financial end. Mister Grant calls you. The estate agent contacts you. You are Evie’s voice at the moment, and you’re more than happy to do it.

“I’m not the one packing anything up,” you laugh, throwing up your hands. “All I have to do is point and Jennifer’s assistant will label it.”

“That’ll be easier,” sighs Evie. “I can’t imagine trying to go through all our belongings by hand.”

You shrug. “I get to eat lots of takeout in the meantime. I’ll be fine.”

Evie reaches out and squeezes your hand. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Evelyn Green.”

Her grin is infectious as you push up from the bed and snag the backpack you packed. Hefting it over one shoulder, you salute Evie and walk out of the room backwards. You hear her giggle all the way down the hall.

Once the paperwork is in your hands, Amelia drops you off at the train station. You spend the entire trip hunched over the paperwork and reviewing the list you made of all the items Evie wants to keep. She’s giving you liberty to make the final call on most things, but you know it’s because she’s doesn’t want to deal with any of it.

It’s understandable. Everything in the home reminds Evie of her dead husband, and she’s already emotional delicate. If she doesn’t want to look at or deal with any of it, you’ll carry the burden.

When you arrive in Cambridge, it’s a quick taxi ride to the house.

The quiet is almost ominous, and the dark rooms seem bigger without anyone here with you. For a moment, you consider calling Simon to ask if he’d like to come out here and join you. But the idea is quickly dismissed. Simon has work. He has a job to do. Already he’s made numerous changes to his schedule just to accommodate your needs.

It’s not like he wouldn’t come if you called. You know that if you picked up the phone right now and dialed Simon’s number, he wouldn’t even hesitate. Simon would come like a moth to a flame.

But moths are often consumed in fire.

You think better of it.

The estate agent, Jennifer, and her assistant are supposed to arrive early in the morning to start the pack-up process. There isn’t time to dwell on your feelings or how much you wish Simon was here with you.

On the kitchen island, you set out the paperwork, organizing it now so you don’t have to deal with it in the morning. You just want to sleep—to have as much quiet as you can before the work begins. Lillian keeps Evie up, but the little one keeps you up as well. The lack of sleeping is starting to eat away at you.

It’s a fresh start in a way. You sleep deep and you sleep hard. When Jessica and Mollie arrive, you’re refreshed.

“Evelyn wants these packed?” asks Jessica, gesturing toward an array of kitchen appliances.

“Yes,” you confirm.

Jessica nods and Mollie writes “pack” on a sticky note before attaching it to the mixing bowls. Plenty of things are going into storage for now—at least until Evie is confident enough to find her own place that is uniquely hers.

You haven’t broached the subject explicitly. It’s only been mentioned in passing, and Evie agreed that she didn’t want to sell everything off only to have to replace it later. What she truly wants is for the house to be sold. To create a space that doesn’t constantly remind her of her dead husband.

You and Jessica walk around the entire house and garden with Mollie trailing behind, her arms loaded with tape, paper, and sticky notes. It takes several hours to go through everything, and by the end you’re starving. The coffee and croissant you ate for breakfast are out of your system entirely.

Jessica taps away at her phone, a frown on her face. “I swear. I’ve been having issues with this thing all morning,” she grumbles.

Mollie shrugs. “Want me to reach out to them?”

“Please,” sighs Jessica. “They’re supposed to deliver the boxes for us. Find out from John what time.”

Mollie nods and grabs her tablet, her fingers tapping away furiously. She gives her back, one arm clutching the tablet while her other hand unloads the pens from her coat pocket.

Jessica turns to you with a bright smile. “I’ll find out when the boxes are supposed to arrive.” She lifts her phone in the air. “If this will cooperate. Bloody technology.”

“It’s fine,” you laugh. “They’ll get here when they get here. I can manage until then.”

“Too true,” she beams. “At least you have a few to start with.”

“But the rest will be boxed up independently?”

“Yes,” confirms Jessica. “Just take the things that Evelyn wants. Leave the rest. I have the keys. When the team is ready, I’m meet them here. We’ll take care of everything else.”

“Wonderful,” you sigh, as you say your goodbyes and escort Jessica and Mollie to the front door.

The boxes do arrive, but so do an endless parade of people. Mister Grant stops by to review the paperwork before handing over more for you to take to Evie when you return to London. The appraiser comes to evaluate the house, and several different contractors arrive to assess potential fixes that Jessica suggested during the walkthrough.

It’s an avalanche of faces—and the only one you want to see is Simon. It’s the face you think about when you slip into bed that night. It’s the face you imagine when the ache between your thighs grows and you need some sweet relief. It’s the face in your dreams that night, and the one that lingers when you wake.

You need Simon like plants need the sun. He is your light. Your sustenance. This love blooming in your chest is a twisting beast that intends to devour you whole. It is lovely. It is consuming.

All you want is him.

When you return to London, the first thing you’re doing is heading for 141 Ink to spend an afternoon in his shop. Watching Simon work is a pleasure. You’ve only witnessed it a few times, and it was hypnotizing when you did.

“Really?” you mutter, staring at the text message on the phone screen, stuffing the rest of your breakfast into your mouth.

It’s Jessica! New phone! Sending the assessor out to you today! One last walkthrough!

“They were just here,” you groan, staring around at all the empty boxes. “Why is this necessary?”

The boxes were delivered, but they were all flat. At least packing tape came with. Otherwise, you’d be out of luck. Evie wants some things to come to Amelia’s and those are the items you’re supposed to be collecting. That is supposed to be your focus at the moment.

And a new number for Jessica is annoyingly inconvenient, but you’ll deal with it. Her phone was acting up yesterday.

“Whatever,” you say to the ceiling, updating your contact information for Jessica.

You continue to pack, taking breaks every so often to check work emails. You’re in the zone—a flurry of activity—so when the doorbell goes off, you nearly flinch at the sound.

“Jesus Christ,” you mutter, sealing a box with packing tape.

Pushing up to standing, your knees pop. The doorbell rings through the house again and you sprint to the front door, legs a bit achy from crouching.

You open the door, a little breathless. “Hi!”

A man in his mid-thirties stands on the other side. His dark hair is cropped short and he wears a polo with khakis. On the left side of the polo is a little logo that says “Heisman Consulting.” He clutches a clipboard in one hand and has a utility belt hooked around his hips. Behind his right ear is a sharpened pencil.

“You must be the assessor Jessica mentioned,” you greet.

“That’s me,” he says, presenting his hand. “I’m Jack.”

You take it, giving him your own name. It’s a firm, strong handshake. His eye contact is intense. It’s a bit strange actually. You’re not sure why he’s staring like he’s trying to see into your soul.

“We just had the assessor here yesterday. Did Jessica give a reason for another visit?” you ask, trying to keep your tone light.

Jack just grins and it’s disarming. “Second opinion.”

“I see,” you say slowly, not understanding at all.

What’s the point of a second opinion? Did the first one already come back? That seems unlikely. These things don’t happen overnight. But you’re not the expert on real estate. This is out of your depth.

What you want is to leave this conversation as quickly as possible and return to your task. “I have a few things to take care of. I’ll make sure to stay out of your way while you walk around the property.”

“That won’t be necessary,” replies Jack, his smile still in place.

“I’m sorry?”

“Jessica wants you present for the inspection.”

You laugh, the sound awkward as it leaves your lips. “No she doesn’t. I’ll be around. Just come grab me if you need something.”

Jack shakes his head, shrugging his shoulders casually. “Jessica isn’t happy with the last assessment. Wants someone else observing.”

“Like a witness?” you ask.

He shrugs his shoulders again, and the unease only grows. Why does he want you to stick around so bad? If anything, you shouldn’t be in his way at all.

“Fine,” you concede, attempting to give him a smile. “Not sure I’ll be of much help.”

Jack glances down at his clipboard and removes the pencil from behind is ear. “S’all good, love.” He winks and notes something on the clipboard before his gaze scans the room.

Love.

In Jack’s mouth, it sounds like an insult. It doesn’t sit right. The only person you enjoy calling you that is Simon.

You try to smile, but it falls flat.

There are too many things to do, and you only have a few days to complete them. You’re supposed to be in Cambridge for the weekend—returning at the latest on Tuesday if necessary.

“Where would you like to start?” you ask, taking a cautious step back, edging toward the paperwork sitting on the counter.

Jack takes another gander of the kitchen and living room. It’s strange, really, how he’s observing the space but not really looking at it. It almost appears passive, like he’s not interested in it at all.

You tuck the loose paperwork into the binder Mister Grant left and lean against the counter, arms crossed over your chest.

“Let’s cover the outdoors first,” Jack finally says. “Weather is all right for now. Never know when it might rain.”

“Sure,” you reply. “Let me grab my coat.”

You quietly excuse yourself, heading for the guest bedroom. It’s at the end of the hall. Tucked away. Even though you don’t sense a presence at your back, you keep checking, glancing over your shoulder like Jack will suddenly appear.

It’s silly, really. Why are you uneasy about all this? Jessica sometimes gets back to you last minute on things. It’s just a little tight. A little odd. But it’s not completely unusual.

Grabbing your coat, you return downstairs, finding Jack near the patio door. He’s hunched over a bit, blocking your view of the handle.

“Want to start in the backyard first?” you ask loudly, tugging on the coat.

He turns sharply, his mouth a firm, flat line before morphing into a smile. He’s still blocking your view of the handle.

Reaching behind him, he slides the patio door open. “Sounds great.” He moves with it and stays there. “Ladies first.”

You slowly approach and brush past him. Jack is far too close and you wrap your coat a little tighter around you as he exits after you. With clipboard in hand, the two of you begin walking the perimeter of the house.

Jack never removes any tools from his belt. He doesn’t measure anything. He only observers and makes notes on his clipboard. There are no questions asked. Nothing. The silence is excruciating, and while you’re itching to break it, you don’t dare do so.

There is a chill beneath your skin, and it’s not the cool December air. It might be cold out but it’s not that cold—not like it can get in the States. This is a creeping chill. One that starts at a point in your chest and slowly spreads outward until the tips of your fingers and toes feel numb.

Jack isn’t wearing a coat, but perhaps he’s simply used to the weather. He doesn’t appear bothered by it.

“Anything I can help with?” you finally ask once the two of you make it back to the patio area.

“Just keep close,” he winks, stepping inside the house.

You stand just outside, unsure if you want to go in at all. Your phone burns a hole in your pocket. The urge to call Jessica is intense—nearly stifling.

You step inside, glancing back the interior handle. The screws are gone. And the lock is clearly broken.

“What the fuck,” you mutter, whirling around to find Jack standing nearby, a hammer clutched in his fist.

Jack isn’t smiling. His frown is deep. A scowl. Your gaze darts to the hammer in his hand and then back up to his face. He’s between you and the front door. The only way out is through the patio door. It might be directly behind you, but you still have to run along the side of the house to make a break for the road.

If you’re fast, you could do it. But you’ll have to give Jack your back. And he’s wielding a fucking weapon. Even if you’re out of swinging distance, he could still hurl it at you like a javelin.

Slowly, you slide your foot backward.

Jack remains utterly motionless.

“I’m calling Jessica.”

Again, Jack doesn’t move. Doesn’t speak.

You take another slow step backward.

Without taking your eyes off of him, you fish out your phone, holding it up in the air. With Jessica at the top of your message list, it’s not difficult to hit the “call” button. There is a pause before you hear the muted ring coming from your phone.

But that isn’t what unnerves you.

A ringer goes off. Loud. Near.

It’s not Jack. He still stands there in the middle of the room with hammer in hand. Unfazed.

It’s coming from behind you.

The muted ring from your phone and the loud, audible one sync together. Jack’s gaze slowly shifts from you to a point over your shoulder.

Your eyes burn and you don’t realize that you’re crying until the salt of them sting your cheeks.

Jack isn’t looking at you anymore. His gaze is beyond. Absorbed elsewhere.

Twisting, you glance over your shoulder and find a man standing just outside the patio door. He holds up a ringing cellphone and half of his face is covered in burn scars.

“Hello, love,” he says, voice gruff like he’s smoked an entire pack of cigarettes. “The name’s Kit.”

taglist:

@km-ffluv @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @miaraei @cherryofdeath

@sapphichotmess @saoirse06 @ferns-fics @lialacleaf @unhinged-reader-36

@miss-mistinguett @ravenpoe67 @tulipsun-flower @creamwhxre @sageyxbabey

@mudisgranapat @ninman82 @lulurubberduckie @leed-bbg @theshrikeandcanary

@yawning-grave81 @knight4xmas @jupiternighties @corvusmorte @darling006

@azkza @nishim @carma-fanficaddict @haven-1307 @voids-universe

@itsberrydreemurstuff @i-feel-violated @cod-z @mileyraes @littlemisscriesherselftosleep

@statixx-x @umno-yeah @webmvie @blackhawkfanatic @talooolaaloolla

@sadlonelybagel @aykxz98 @kadeeesworld @xxkay15xx @iloveslasher

@sammysinger04 @dakotakazansky @suhmie @cinnabeanz @rogerrhqpsody

[norizzsainz]

🌶️ NFY : Y/N THE RIZZLESS

[ carlos sainz x singer!fem!reader ]

[ summary ] carlos' and y/n's breakup comes as a surprise to many of their friends. no one ever thought the couple would ever break up, but alas, y/n was always ready to do whatever was best for the love of her life — even if it meant breaking up with him.

previous | masterlist | next

TAGLIST : @d3kstar , @khaylin27 , @sailing-with-100-ships , @lorenakaspersen , @be-your-coffee-pot , @shakespereansonnet , @sltwins , @laneyspaulding19 , @vizzzashley , @fangirl125reader , @lewisvinga , @c-losur3 , @yeetskeetstreet , @sam-is-lost , @imsiriuslyreal , @ilove-tswizzle , @bernelflo , @mycenterfold , @justkalcpxia , @multi-fandom-fan221b , @jinimon-tr , @neivivenaj , @jointhehunt67 , @fangirl-dot-com , @brune77e , @brekkers-whore , @honethatty12 , @bokutos-babyowl , @shineforever19 , @spideybv28 , @princessria127 , @hiireadstuff , @ari-nicole , @yl90 , @sp1rl , @evie-119 , @minkyungseokie , @tinyhrry , @barcelonaloverf1life , @goldenharrysworld

IF YOU WANT TO JOIN THE TAGLIST, PLEASE COMMENT DOWN BELOW, SEND AN ASK OR DM!

[lovewithmary]

(not) moving on — a max verstappen x stark!oc x charles leclerc series

★ fc: madison beer ☆ summary: evangeline "evie" stark is in love with her best friend, max verstappen, but he tries his best to keep her at arm's length. but what happens when she starts to get close to his fellow drivers in the paddock? ★ notes: kinda short chapter but the reconciliation chapter may or may not be coming soon. either the next chapter or the chapter after that. we'll see though

previous next series masterlist

"How much do you think it costs to buy an F1 Team?"

"Papa, you can't buy Ferrari—"

"Why not? As much as I hate to admit it, I actually like your boyfriend and he seems talented enough to win a WDC, if it wasn't for the shit tractor and shit strategies," Tony said.

Tony, as much as he wanted to hate Charles, had been won over by the Monegasque. Even if Tony was rooting for Max, he wouldn't be too mad if Evie would end up being with Charles. Or, better yet, he'd be happy if she would end up with both of them.

"Tony," Pepper warned.

"I'll wear you out about the F1 Team eventually," Tony said.

"Just like you did when you asked her to marry you," Evie commented, making Pepper smile and Charles stifle a laugh out of shock from beside her.

"Okay, that's it. Your name won't be on the F1 Team when I buy Ferrari," Tony said.

"I'm a Stark, my name would be on the Team name regardless," she shot back at her father.

Before Tony could say something back, Pepper had dragged him away, leaving Charles and Evie alone. "Would your dad actually buy Ferrari," Charles questioned, making her sigh.

"Who knows at this point. Papa's got more money than he knows what to do with it and he's always wanted a team," she told Charles.

"He seemed to like you, though,"

"Really? I didn't think he knew who I was until he called me your boyfriend,"

"Trust me, he does. If he didn't like you, he wouldn't offer to buy your team. It is Tony Stark's love language; giving gifts to tell people he likes them," Evie said.

"I noticed it's also yours," Charles commented, having received a watch from her that costs more than his Pista, and he nearly dropped the watch at the sight of it.

"I suppose I do like you as well. Just a little bit though," she teased, putting her hand up and moving her pointer finger and thumb as close together as possible without touching, signifying how "little" she liked him.

"Oh, just a little bit, amor? You weren't saying that last night," Charles teased back, grabbing her waist in order to pull her close to him.

"Leclerc! Just because you're dating my daughter does not mean I should have to see you commit cannibalism on her!" Tony called out, making Sam and Bucky ooh and ahh at them like they were children.

Pepper tried stopping her husband but the people around them were already looking at Evie and Charles. Meanwhile, Steve was trying his hardest to give the couple some kind of semblance of privacy, turning around to not look at them in the eye. Wanda and Natasha were explaining to Thor and Vision that Charles wasn't actually trying to eat Evie. And Peter was trying his best to not let Morgan run away and explore.

Evie rolled her eyes, and rested her forehead on Charles' chest, groaning at the absurdity of her family. "They're your family. You love them. You love them." She chanted, trying to remember or else she might end up killing them.

[b00inazkaban]

MASTERLIST #2

Navigation!

Let me know if there are any characters you’d like added and I’ll look into it! :)

MARVEL:

☆ Tony Stark

☆ Steve Rogers

☆ Bruce Banner

☆ Natasha Romanoff

☆ Clint Barton

☆ Bucky Barnes

☆ Sam Wilson

☆ Peter Parker

☆ Thor Odison

☆ Loki Laufeyson

☆ Dr. Stephen Strange

☆ Peter Quill

☆ Gamora

☆ Drax the destroyer

☆ Rocket the Racoon

☆ Mantis

☆ Groot

Poly Requests:

STRANGER THINGS:

☆ Steve Harrington: Steve Harrington x FtM reader**

☆ Robin Buckley :

☆ Nancy Wheeler:

☆ Eddie Munson:

☆ Johnathan Byers:

☆ Argyle:

☆ Billy Hargrove:

☆ Mike Wheeler: Little!Mike x GN!CG!Reader

☆ Dustin Henderson

☆ Will Byers

☆ Lucas Sinclair

☆ Eleven Hopper

☆ Max Mayfield

☆ Jim Hopper:

☆ Joyce Byers:

☆ Dmitri Antonov:

Poly Requests:

HARRY POTTER/MARAUDER:

☆ Harry Potter:

☆ Ron Weasley: CG!Ron Weasley x Little!GN!reader

☆ Hermione Granger:

☆ Fred Weasley: CG!Fred Weasley x Little!Fem!Reader

☆ George Weasley: George Weasley x reader ; CG!George Weasley x LittleMale!Reader

☆ Neville Longbottom: Sub!Neville x Dom!Reader**

☆ Draco Malfoy:

☆ Blaise Zambini:

☆ Enzo Berkshire:

☆ Mattheo Riddle:

☆ Theo Nott:

☆ Pansy Parkinson:

Marauders Era or Lighting Era:

☆ Lucius Malfoy:

☆ Narcissa Malfoy:

☆ Severus Snape:

☆ Bellatrix Lestrange:

☆ Barty Crouch Jr. :

☆ Evan Rosier:

☆ Pandora Rosier:

☆ Zahara Zambini:

☆ Regulus Black:

☆ Sirius Black:

☆ Remus Lupin:

☆ Lily Evans:

☆ Marlene McKinnon:

☆ Mary McDonald:

☆ Dorcas Meadows:

FANTASTIC BEASTS:

☆ Newt Scamander:

☆ Thesus Scammander:

☆ Jacob Kowalski:

☆ Queenie Goldstein:

☆ Albus Dumbledore (young):

☆ Gellart Grindlewald (young):

Poly Requests:

CRIMINAL MINDS:

☆Aaron Hotchner

☆ Jason Gideon

☆ Spencer Reid

☆ Derek Morgan

☆ JJ/ Jennifer Jareau

☆ Elle Greenaway

☆ Penelope Garcia

☆ Emily Prentiss

☆ David Rossi

Poly Requests:

BRIDGERTON:

☆ Anthony Bridgerton

☆ Benedict Bridgerton

☆ Colin Briderton

☆ Daphne Bridgerton

☆ Eloise Bridgerton

☆ Simon Basset

☆ Penelope Fetherington

☆ Queen Charlotte (Young)

☆ King George (Young)

Poly Requests:

Queen charlotte x reader x King George

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES:

☆ Leonardo: NSFW alphabet

☆ Raphael:

☆ Donnatelo:

☆ Michelangelo: Mikey x Reader

☆ April O'Neil:

☆ Casey Jones:

Poly Requests:

Poly!TMNT x Fem!Reader; April 4-in-1; turtles are manspreading and you want payback 😚

Poly!TMNT x Fem!Reader; Casey tries to flirt with reader but she puts down the idea and the turtles are proud

TOP GUN:

☆ Pete Mitchell "Maverick"

☆ Bradley Bradshaw "Rooster"

☆ Jake Seresin "Hangman"

☆ Natasha Trace "Phoenix"

☆ Robert Floyd "Bob"

Poly Requests:

THE HOBBIT/LOTR:

☆ Thorin

☆ Bilbo

☆ Fili

☆ Kili

☆ Dwalin

☆ Bofur

☆ Bard

☆ Legolas

☆ Tauriel

☆ Thuranduil

Poly Requests:

TWILIGHT:

☆ Carlisle Cullen

☆ Esme Cullen

☆ Emmet Cullen

☆ Rosalie Cullen

☆ Alice Cullen

☆ Jasper Cullen: CG!Jasper Hale x nb!little!reader

☆ Edward Cullen

☆ Bella Cullen/Swan

☆ Jacob Black

☆ Garrett

The Volturi:

☆ Aro

☆ Caius

☆ Marcus

Poly Requests:

THE HUNGER GAMES:

☆ Katniss Everdeen

☆ Petta Mellark

☆ Finnick Odair

☆ Johanna Mason

☆ Haymitch Abernathy

Poly Requests:

LUCIFER:

☆ Lucifer Morningstar

☆ Mazikeen

☆ Amenadeil

☆ Chole Decker

☆ Linda Martin

Poly Requests:

How To Train Your Dragon:

☆ Hiccup Haddock

☆ Astrid Hofferson

☆ Snotlout

☆ Ruffnut

☆ Tuffnut

Poly Requests:

Across The SpiderVerse:

☆ Miles Morales

☆ Miguel O'Hara

Spider thoughts!

☆ Peter B. Parker

Spider thoughts!

☆ Hobie Brown

☆ Gwen Stacy

☆ Spider-Noir

Spider thoughts!

Poly Requests:

Descendants:

☆ Mal

☆ Evie

☆ Carlos

☆ Jay

☆ Gil

☆ Harry

☆ Uma

Poly Requests:

MATCHUPS/MOODBOARDS:

☆ @thoughtfulcreatornight x Raphael matchup

☆ Anonymous x Remus Lupin matchup

꧁〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎꧂

I’ve redone my masterlist because I was vey unhappy with my first one, and I wanted to add pictures to go with it! I’ll also be adding all my new work onto here and my old work will be on the first masterlist! Love y’all! 💗

[txttabloid]

Is there any of ur characters that u hc as trans?

Yes I do let me list the guys

Canon folk HCs

Uzi: non binary

N: trans man

J: trans women

Doll: non binary

Thad: trans man

Sam: demi-boy

Khan: trans man

The teacher (Aero): trans man

Nori: demi-girl

Yeva: non binary

Alice: trans women

Beau: bigender

Cyn: genderfluid

Tessa: genderfluid

Ocs/fankids hcs

P: demi-boy

S: genderfluid

Hatchet: demi-girl

Nuzi

Evie: transwomen

Midas: transman

Oilrose

X: bigender

Y: demi-girl

Dizzy

Fetcher: non binary

Saint: demi-girl

Knori

Dawdy: bigender

Jolly

Humphrey: trans man

Vizzy

Bella: trans women

Dollzi

Umbra: agender

Purplemalice

Pistol: demi-girl

Envy

Q: trans man

A: non binary

C: genderfluid

H: agender

D: demi-boy

Juzi

Halo: trans man

Nhad

Cynthia: bigender

[xxdjsunsetxdxx-blog]

Random Ships I Like In No Particular Order:

-

* Loubbie- Lou Miller x Debbie Ocean- Ocean’s 8

* Sabina x Elena- Charlie’s Angels (2019)

* Macgyver x Riley- MacGyver (2016)

* Magnum x Higgins- Magnum PI (2018)

* Shoot- Shaw x Root- Person of Interest

* Rizzles- Rizzoli x Isles- Rizzoli & Isles

* Wondercheetah- Wonder Woman x Cheetah- DC

* Camren- Camila x Lauren- Fifth Harmony

* Blackhill- Natasha Romanoff x Maria Hill- Marvel

* Xialing x Katy- Shang-Chi

* Peggy Carter x Dottie Underwood- Agent Carter

* Supercorp- Kara Danvers x Lena Luthor- Supergirl

* Daniela x Carla- In The Heights

* Mira Harberg x Laurie- Irma Vep

* Judy Hale x Jen Harding- Dead To Me

* Florence x Madeleine- Gunpowder Milkshake

* Ronance- Robin Buckley x Nancy Wheeler- Stranger Things

* Eleanor x Drea- Do Revenge

* Harlivy- Harley Quinn x Poison Ivy- DC

* Wenclair- Wednesday Addams x Enid Sinclair- Wednesday

* Meddison- Meredith x Addison- Grey’s Anatomy

* Emily x Stephanie- A Simple Favor

* Mercymaker- Mercy x Widowmaker- Overwatch

* Akko x Diana- Little Witch Academia

* Dovesso- Professor Dovey x Lady Lesso- The School for Good and Evil

* Cassie Lang x Jentorra - Quantumania

* Spideypool- Spider-Man x Deadpool- Marvel

* Superbat- Superman x Batman- DC

* Batman x Catwoman- DC

* Princess Audrey x Wonder Woman- DCAU

* Jon Stewart (Green Lantern) x Hawkgirl (Shayera Hol)- DCAU

* StephCass- Stephanie Brown x Cassandra Cain- DC

* DinahBabs- Black Canary (Dinah Lance) x Oracle (Barbara Gordon)- DC

* DicKory- Nightwing (Dick Grayson) x Starfire (Koriand’r)- DC

* Wondermagic- Wonder Woman x Zatanna- DC

* Daphne x Velma- Scooby-Doo

* Cassie Dewell x Jenny Hoyt- Big Sky

* Choni- Cheryl Blossom x Toni Topaz- Riverdale

* Bechloe- Beca Mitchell x Chloe Beale-Pitch Perfect

* Khalopatra- Kleopatra x Frida Khalo- Clone High

* Talia Burns x Margot Fairmont- First Kill

* Question x Huntress- DCAU

* SuperWonderBat- Superman x Wonder Woman x Batman- DCAU

* Wonderhawk- Wonder Woman x Hawkgirl (Shayera Hol)- DCAU

* Dana Scully x Monica Reyes- X-Files

* Barbara (Barbie) Handler x Gloria- Barbie

* Julethief- Carmen Sandiego x Julia (Jules) Argent- Carmen Sandiego

* Seven Of Nine x Raffi Musiker- Star Trek

* Larissa Weems x Morticia Addams- The Addams Family

* Swanqueen- Emma Swan x Regina Mills- Once Upon A Time

* Alicia Florrick x Kalinda Sharma- The Good Wife

* Danny James x Cable McCrory- Bull

* Kim Possible x Shego- Kim Possible

* Peachline-Princess Peach x Mayor Pauline- Mario

* Gelphie- Elphaba Thropp x Glinda Upland- Wicked

* SamBucky- Sam Wilson x Bucky Barnes- Marvel

* PeggyNat- Peggy Carter (Captain Carter) x Natasha Romanoff- What if?

* Maxine “Max” Baker x Abby Littman- Ginny & Georgia

* Ashrah x Nitara- Mortal Kombat

* Johnshi- Johnny Cage x Kenshi Takahashi- MK

* Barlissa- Barbara Howard x Melissa Shimmenti- Abbot Elementary

* Cabenson- Olivia Benson x Alex Cabot- Law & Order SVU

* Caroljess- Carol Danvers (Captain Marvel) x Jessica Drew (Spider-Woman)- Marvel Comics

* Bishlova- Kate Bishop x Yelena Belova- Hawkeye

* Chlonette- Chloe Burgeois x Marinette Dupain-Cheng- Miraculous Ladybug (in theory)

* Clawdeen x Draculaura- MH (Gen 1)

* Teleanor- Tahani Al Jamil x Eleanor Shellstrop- The Good Place

* Hanamusa- Jessie x Delia Ketchum- Pokémon

* Jemily- Emily Prentiss x Jennifer “JJ” Jareau- Criminal Minds

* Mellivia- Olive Pope x Melody “Mellie” Grant- Scandal

* Malvie- Mal x Evie- Descendants

* Mileena x Tanya- Mortal Kombat

-

talk to me abt them if you want :)

couldn’t fit all the tags lol

[rabesbabe]

Love Me like A Sailor (Pt. 1)

Mal x Evie (Descendants)

A/N: Hey guys! sorry this fic is so… random?? i’m suddenly obsessed with descendants since i rewatched the movies and i needdd to write for mal and evie soo here’s this lol. there’s probs gonna be two parts and idek if anyone will read this but i wanted to write it anyway !! next fic in the works is abt sam :)

Summary: It’s fall in Auradon and Mal can’t take her eyes off Evie, will she be able to ask her to the school dance? Or will someone else beat her to it? (ik i’m bad at summaries lets not talk abt it)

Not proofread

-

“Mal?”

Mal turned her head and saw Ben’s brown eyes looking back at her expectantly.

“Sorry. What?”

Mal hadn’t been paying attention at all. While Ben had been excitedly explaining what Halloween in Auradon was like, Mals attention was focused on Evie who was simply reapplying her lipstick in a compact mirror.

At first, Mal noticed that Evie had stolen her lipstick and she smiled at the fact. Then, she noticed how good her lipstick looked on Evie. The way it made her already plump lips look fuller. And how the concentrated look on Evies face was so cute.

“I was asking if you’ve ever been to a pumpkin patch?” Ben asked, he looked at Mal curiously while taking a stab at his french toast.

Mal and Evie had been in the dining hall eating breakfast when Ben decided to join them at their table. Evie welcomed Ben happily while Mal barely muttered out a “Hello” when he first sat down.

She squinted her eyes at him trying to figure out why he cared. “No, I don’t think so.” She said.

Evie put Mals lipstick away and tuned into their conversation. Her eyebrow perking up at Ben’s question.

“I can’t believe you’ve never been to a pumpkin patch?” Ben said laughing with excitement. “You’d love it! You know, I could take you one day it could be really fun.” He said eagerly.

“Uhm maybe.” Mal said, unsure she liked the idea of going somewhere by herself with Ben. “We should bring Evie, and the guys too they’ve never been either.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ben said clearing his throat, he looked down and adverted his eyes away from hers. “that’d be cool. I’ll uhm let you guys know a day.” He gave a small smile before getting up to put his tray away.

As Ben walked away Mal looked back over at Evie who was now giving Mal a not-so subtle smirk.

Mal pouted slightly confused at why Evie was making a face at her. “What?”

“Ben just asked you out on a date. And you very brutally turned it down by inviting the rest of us along.” Evie said lightly laughing.

“A date?” Mal said her mouth agape. She didn’t realize that’s what Ben was doing…

When Mal took it upon herself to spell Ben that’s all she thought it would be, a spell, but when Ben told her that he actually was in love with her she had no idea what to do. Mal didn’t love him and now he was asking her out. It was all too much.

“His crush on me is weird.” She said ruffling her eyebrows. “I didn’t mean for the love spell to work that well.”

Evie laughed her words. “Don’t stress about it too much. I’m sure the king can handle a little rejection.” She said.

Later on, the girls decided to get out of their dorm for a bit and take a walk around Araudon. The leaves were displayed around them with shades of orange and reds. Mal and Evie had never seen anything like it before. Seasons on the Isle didn’t really exist. It was always just gloomy and dead feeling.

Evie watched as even Mals usually unimpressed stare turned into one filled with curiosity and amazement.

“It’s still so shocking to me how pretty this place is. It’s like something out of a Fairytale.” Evie said. She was barely focused on the view of the leaves and almost fully focused on the slight smile Mals face held.

“Yeah.” Mal agreed looking up at Evie. She was slightly at a loss for words.

After a few beats of silence with nothing but the leaves crunching under their feet making noise, Mal spoke up.

“We should do something.” She said a hopeful glint in her eye.

Evies deep brown eyes looked into Mals, “Like what?” She asked.

Mal looked down, she wasn’t actually sure what she wanted to do, all she knew was she wanted to spend time with Evie.

“Well everyone in Auradon groans about how amazing fall is and all the fall activities they do and we’ve yet to do any.” She explained with a shrug.

Evie giggled at her and nodded suddenly getting an idea. “We should bake!” Evie said excitedly imagining her and her best friend in one of Auradons oversized kitchens.

Even though She wanted to do something, baking was not what she had in mind. Mals recent memories with baking ended in being asked out on dates she really didn’t want to attend.

Mal looked, not so convinced, “I’ve only ever baked one thing.” She claimed grimacing slightly. “And we all know how that turned out.”

“Come on Mal it’ll be fun. You don’t have to accidentally make someone fall in love with you this time, it’ll just be us anyways.” Evie said, blue strands of hair falling into her face as she looked over at her best friend.

Mal reached up and lightly brushed Evies hair behind her ears. “I mean… if you want to I want to.” She said finally giving in. Drawing her attention back to the trees around them, she failed to notice the light pink shade now painting over Evies cheeks.

As they made their way into the kitchen, Evie and Mal debated on what to make.

“We should make something easy since it is like, only our second time baking.” Mal said placing the cookbook down on the kitchens island.

Evie nodded in agreement. “How about brownies?” She said her eyes lighting up. “We could put a little ghost on there with frosting and everything!”

Mal smiled at the idea and started looking for all the ingredients they’d need. Evie went and grabbed a bowl, a whisk and, put some halloween music on to set the mood.

As Evie started to the mix the ingredients inside the bowl, she noticed Mals eyes paying very little attention to their brownie mix and a great amount of attention to her.

She looked at Mal and giggled. “You’re staring.” She said pausing her mixing of for a moment.

“How could I not?” Mal said with silly wink. Evie laughed at her and tried her best to ignore the way her stomach felt like it was doing cartwheels.

“You know I can’t believe we didn’t have this holiday on the Isle,” Mal said dipping her finger into the batter to taste it. “You’d think the villains would appreciate a day where it’d be acceptable to just be as evil as possible.”

Evie thought about it, it was weird they didn’t have Halloween on the Isle. She could imagine if they did though, and she wasn’t sure she liked the idea of it. “I think that we should be thankful we didn’t have it to be honest.” Evie said looking up at Mal who was licking batter off her fingers.

Mal now had a concerning amount of chocolate on her face and Evie tried her best not to laugh at her.

“What’s so funny?” Mal said, feeling like she missed some joke.

“You’ve just got a little something right there.” Evie said making sure she pointed over every inch of Mals face just so she knew she looked ridiculous.

Mal sarcastically laughed at Evies joke and, tried to wipe the mess off her face but failed, rubbing all the wrong areas.

“Here let me help you.” Evie said still smiling a little at the way Mal looked.

She wet a paper towel and lightly pulled Mals face towards hers so she’d be able to clean it. As she dabbed the paper towel on her cheek she didn’t fail to notice the way Mals eyes intently looked into her own almost as if in a trance.

Mal found herself enamored with Evie. Her dark and deep brown eyes. The way her blue hair cascaded down her shoulders. And the pretty curve of her lips as she focused on wiping at her face. This was like the third time today Mal couldn’t take her eyes off of her best friend. But it was impossible to, she was just so easy to get lost in.

“Okay and… All done!” Evie said checking over Mal one more time to make sure she got everything. It took Mal a second to bring her mind back to reality.

“T- Thanks.” Was all she was able to choke out as Evie pulled away from her.

Evie giggled at Mals flustered reaction and decided to lean closer to Mal once again, to give her a quick kiss on the cheek. “You’re welcome.” She said smiling.

Now Mal was really at a loss for words.

~

“And then she kissed me.” Mal said sighing.

“SHE KISSED YOU?” Jay and Carlos said in unison.

“Well, on the cheek.”

Mal, Carlos and, Jay all sat in the boys dorm room, while Dude slept on Jays chest. 20 minutes earlier Mal had burst into the room saying she needed help. She looked frantic and the boys assumed that it was some huge emergency. But, when Mal said that she thought she had feelings for Evie. They boys calmed down, much to her dismay. To them this wasn’t anything new. It was obvious Mal liked her, but to Mal it was a huge realization.

“I can’t believe you guys just knew I had feelings for her this whole time and didn’t think to let me know.” Mal said glaring at Carlos who had an annoying smirk on his face.

“We knew you’d figure out eventually,” Jay said scratching behind Dudes ears. “Plus it was kinda funny to watch you be so oblivious.”

Mal just rolled her eyes defeated.

Carlos rolled over on the bed he was lying on to look at Mal. “You know,” He said teasingly dragging out his words. “The Halloween dance is in a week and a half.”

A smirk displayed across Jays face at Carlos implication. Mal just sat there lost. She didn’t understand what they were getting at.

“So?” She said slightly annoyed.

“So… You should ask her to go with you.” Jay said raising his eyebrows as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Ask her to go with me?” Mal repeated clearly not liking the idea. “I can’t do that.” She hung her head and fidgeted with her hands.

“I don’t see why not.” Carlos shrugged at her. “There’s no way in the world she’d say no to you and as far as I know she doesn’t have a date yet.” He said quite matter of factly.

Jay nodded along with Carlos’ statement. “She might not have a date yet but you know that someone’s gonna ask her if you don’t Mal.” He said looking up at her. “This could be your one chance.”

The words hit Mal like a brick. Her green eyes suddenly glazed with realization. She knew that it would kill her to see Evie with someone else at the dance. So she had to take the boys advice and ask her out. It sounded crazy and honestly she wasn’t sure how she would do it but, she had to.

Later that night after Mal had showered she sat in bed with her Pjs on contemplating how she was going to go about this. She thought about maybe getting Evie flowers with orange petals, or getting a halloween themed bear but all of it sounded too extreme and she was scared she’d overdo it and scare Evie away.

What if she just-

Mals thinking was abruptly interrupted when Evie appeared in the doorway talking to Doug.

She couldn’t make out what they were saying but she saw Evie giggling and Doug smiling happily back at her. Mal couldn’t help the jealousy rising in her chest.

Evie closed the door and mumbled out an apology to Mal. “Didn’t mean to wake you.” She said apologetically smiling.

Mal shot a half smile back barely turning to face Evie. “I wasn’t sleeping.” She said dryly.

Evie, being as smart as she was, very easily picked up on Mals bad mood. She decided to not bother her anymore and head to take a shower.

While Evie showered Mals anxiety picked up more and more. What if Doug had already asked her to the dance and just like Jay said she missed her one chance? If only she’d realized earlier how she felt maybe this wouldn’t have happened. Then, she would’ve already asked her to the dance they’d be able to go together. Now she was going to have to watch Evie dance with some dopey guy while she sat in the corner and moped all night.

Once again, Evie interrupted her thinking as she walked out the bathroom in her shorts and a hoodie that just happened to be Mals. “Is that my hoodie?” Mal said mouth slightly open at the fact that her hoodie looked so so good on Evie.

“Yeah I guess it is. Sorry.” Evie said bashfully while walking over to her bed. She opened up her sketchbook and started sketching something out while Mal watched her curiously.

“What do you think of this?” Evie asked, walking over to Mals bed. Evie handed her the book and sat down next to her. It was a sketch of a blue suit with cobweb patterns all over it. Mal was amazed. Even for a rough sketch it looked good.

“E, that’s amazing. Who’s it for?” Mal asked genuinely curious.

Evie smiled and closed the sketchbook up. “It’s for Doug. He stopped me on my way to the dorm and asked if I could make him a suit for the dance!” She said happily.

Mals eyes lit up at Evie and she looked at her smiling way too enthusiastically.

“What?” Evie said laughing at the look on Mals face.

“Wait, Doug didn’t ask you to the dance?” She asked her face colored with hope.

Evie lowered her eyebrows in confusion. “No?” She answered almost laughing. “Not be rude Mal but Doug isn’t really, uhm, my type.”

“I still have a chance,” Mal said under her breath not thinking about the fact that Evie could definitely hear her.

Evies face perked up at Mals words. “You still have a chance?” She repeated not quite understanding.

Mal swore she could feel her heart drop. There was no way she actually said that out loud. “I- uhm,” Evie stared into Mals eyes silently urging her to go on.

As Mals thoughts ran a million miles per second Jays words popped into her head once again. “This is your one chance.” He had said. She knew she had to ask Evie now.

“Evie,” She started. “I was wondering if you’d go to the dance with me on halloween?” Mal was too nervous to look at Evie and notice the way a huge smile spread across her face. When Evie didn’t say anything at first Mal swore she had just ruined everything. “I mean you don’t have to go with me obviously. I’m sure a bunch of other people want to go with you as well but I thought i’d still try and ask if maybe you’d go with me?” Mal was usually so sure of herself and confident. And for the first time in her life she felt shy and embarrassed.

Evie suddenly pulled Mal closer to her and wrapped her arms around her, letting out a small squeal. “Of course i’d go with you Mal!” She said pulling back slightly to look at her.

Mals face was colored with shock struggling to process Evies words. “Really?” She asked trying to make sure this wasn’t just some cruel prank.

“Of course,” Evie said like it was obvious. “I’m happy to know all my flirting payed off.” She smirked at Mal and playfully ran her hands through her purple strands.

Suddenly, it felt like all the wind had been knocked out of Mal. “What?” She said barely able to speak, too distracted by the tingly feeling of Evies hands in her hair.

“Really? The kiss on the cheek? Me constantly stealing your things and acting like I didn’t realize they were yours.” She said looking down at Mals purple hoodie that she just “happened” to be wearing.

Mal just stared at her baffled. How could she have not noticed any of that.

A laugh escaped from Evie lips and Mal couldn’t help but laugh with her. “Your obliviousness was kind of cute.”

[speaknow-sw]

𝓘𝓵𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓲𝓽 𝓐𝒇𝒇𝓪𝓲𝓻

HEADCANONS FORM! Summary : in which you move in your new house in front of a very hot, very dad and very married man. But Anakin Skywalker is a gentle and caring neighbor. Gardenias appear in your garden and you befriended his wife. Soon enough you fit in this neighborhood though a little crush linger…

Ｃｏｎｔｅｎｔ: mdni, dad! Anakin Skywalker, older married man, reader is 25 and Anakin’s 33, mentions of vaginal fingering, pining, cheating ?

AN : GUYS FIRST WORK !!! Okay actually very stressed to post this but I’m sure you’ll be indulgent. Please ? It’s just a part 1 tho idk when I’ll post part 2. Again I’m not fluent in English but please feel free to correct any error. The real stuff happens in part 2 cuz it’s just a plot installation. Hope y’all like my silly little idea.

You and Anakin met when you moved across the street. As a gentleman, he welcomed you and helped with all your boxes. One look and you both knew you were spiraling down an unforgivable path. 

« Excuse me Miss. Do you need help ? » Anakin asked gently. 

« Oh yes, thank you so much » you replied, blushing.

« Just moved in ? It’s a nice neighborhood. The name’s Anakin Skywalker. I live just across the street. » he pointed the white house with blue shutters in front of yours. 

« Well, yes I’m moving in. I hope we’ll become good neighbors. » you smiled  brightly. 

« Don’t doubt it. You seem a lot nicer than old Palps who lived here before you, » he laughed placing a boxes on your counter. « He died of cardiac arrest in his daughter’s house. But around here we say he died strangled in his bitterness. » he joked.

« Seems like a lovely man. » you chuckled.

When he finished helping you he invited you over at his house where you met his lovely…wife, Padmé. As you talked with them a pair of toddlers ran down the stairs. Anakin presented them as Luke and Leia his kids. Adorable, you thought. 

After that first day you crossed Anakin path a numerous time. Every morning you would leave for work around the same time giving each other a light « Hello » and a meaningful gaz, like electricity sparkling between you.

After some months like this, you strangely begun to see gardenias appearing in the back of your garden. 

Sundays barbecue were a common gathering for your neighborhood. Mr. Kenobi, the barbecue king for the five previous years hosting every one of them. Him and his wife Satine were the sweetest people you’ve ever met. Like a good neighbor you attented every barbecues and gained a little group of friends consisting of Padmé, Satine and Breha Organa, the mayor wife’s. 

You couldn’t help but stare at Anakin back as he was talking with the other dads. His broad shoulders draped in an olive t-shirt and his nice butt constricted in a cream pant. Ovulation cravings were getting out of hands. God…this man sense of fashion could kill you on the spot with how effortlessly handsome he was. A married man, older than you, with kids…but so sweet and manly… Only when you turned to help Breha you missed Anakin gazing at you from afar. 

Soon enough, Satine ran out of sodas for the kids. The Skywalker twins, Elledi and Fiari Organa, Cal Kenobi and many more kids were running in the gardens like crazy little gremlins. Tired of hearing their little voices complaining about having a glass of Fanta you took the matter in your hands and said you could go to the store. Suddenly a voice echoed.

« I got packs of Fanta in the closet at home. » proposed softly Anakin. 

« Wonderful, my dear why won’t you accompany Anakin in his house to retrieve the sodas instead of taking the car ? » said a cheerful Satine. 

« Oh…hm…yes, yes I can do that… » you stuttered a bit shy. 

« You’re coming ? » Anakin called, his keys tingling gently in his right hand.

Your gaze fixated on his veiny hands and his long fingers. Your mind went wild with how good his fingers would be buried inside your clenching pussy. Maybe they could even reach that little area deep into you where you see stars. Your arousal grew and soon you felt your cunt being wetter than ten minutes ago. Fantasizing about him as you walked behind him silently, you didn’t saw he stopped in front of you and crashed against his back. 

« Hey, hey, hey, I gotcha. » you heard before feeling strong arms wrapping against your stumbling form. You blinked at him shocked by the whole situation directly from a bad Christmas rom-com. 

« You okay, kid ? » asked Anakin his beautiful face ruined by a frown. 

« Uh…yeah, m’great thanks to you… » you muttered as you felt heat crawling on your cheeks. 

« Alright, here, the sodas are in this closet. » he pointed an open door under his stairs. You nodded looking right in his eyes as your breath hitched. Your gaze lowered at your joined chest as your breasts were pressed against his muscular pecs with how tight he was holding you. You felt his breath on your forehead and raised your head to look at him not without checking his lips. His hold on you tightened slightly and you flushed. 

You darted your eyes around the house unable to held the eye contact and as you wandered through the furniture of the closet your eyes widened.

On the shelf beside a toolbox was placed a white gardenia similar at the ones which appeared on your gardens…

To be continued….

[onebraincellfan]

So, about The Couple Next Door. I actually disliked all of the characters. Like all of them. At first I was feeling sorry for Pete and feeling like he's the only one that's not crazy but then he annoyed me too. I couldn't get why Evie was so obsessed with Danny apart from her being from religious family and wanting to have exiting adventure (yeah yeah, it's Sam Heughan and he's hot and he has a bike but like...that's it??) and I couldn't for the life of me see why he seem to can't stop fucking her like her too. And there was this moment between them when she's like "is it usual" and he's like "no that's different" jamie x claire picnic in the rain style, I was like bruh. Is this a fanfic about a fan trying to get her some sam/jamie gone wrong or what? lmao

I did like the story of Danny and his son/sons, and in the last episode I liked Rebecca's approach and Danny's guilt/sadness/let me be someone worthy of you stuff. Also liked that thing Sam does with his voice when he's really hurt. Like "Claire, you'd have me spare the life of a man that made me play his whore" voice.

[itsss4t4n]

Who I write for /Rules

Masterlist

I'm new-ish to writing (i used to write fanfiction when i was like 13. i'm 18 now soo..) but I really wanna do it again.

So this is a list of characters/fandoms I write for as well as some rules for asks. Some things may be missing from this list so if you dont see something on this list, feel free to ask. :))

I will add a prompt list to this blog soon but again feel free to request other scenarious. Do add as much detail as you want to a request and please ALWAYS have at least some sort of prompt, as i'm really not good with coming up with storys on my own yet.

I WILL NOT DO SMUT SO DONT REQUEST IT! I might however do spicy stuff (Nothing more than making out tho).

My writing will be for all ages but please still be careful if the fic-warnings include sensitive topics and i might repost some 18+ things so be careful when navigating my blog.

Please be nice and have manners when requesting.

If you have any questions at all if i write for something, or if a topic you want me to write about is okay or not, please reach out through my asks or my inbox.

Also please include what gender/pronouns you want the reader to have (i write for all genders):)))

I write both romantic and platonic for all my characters. Although Teen!readers will always be platonic if the character is an adult.

I also write poly relationships. AUs are also totally on the table (big Fan of celebrity AUs).

Some things I will not write include: Pregnancy, toxic/yandere, student x teacher.

(Also english isnt my first language, and even know in my opinion i speak it really well, if they are any mistakes, thats why.)

Heartbreak high

-harper mclean

-quinni ghallager-jones

-darren rivers

-spencer "spider" white

-anthony "ant" vaughn

-malakai mitchel

Sally face

-Sal Fisher

-Travis Phelps (male or gn readers)

-Larry Johnson

-Ashley Campbell

Harry Potter

-Fred Weasley

-george Weasley

-Charly weasley

-Bill weasley

-cedric diggory

-olliver wood

-sirius black

-remus lupin

Marauders

-James potter

-sirius black

-remus lupin

-regulus black

-Evan rosier

-Barty crouch jr

-pandora lestrange

-lilly evans

-marlene mckinnon

Hogwarts Legacy

-Sebastian Sallow

-Ominus Gaunt

-Gareth Weasley

-Poppy Sweetings

-Imelda Reyes

Die drei fragezeichen / the three investigators

-Bob Andrews

-Peter Shaw

-Justus Jonas

-Skinny Norris

Twilight

-Jasper Hale

-Emmet Cullen

-carlisle cullen

-esme cullen

-rosalie hale

-alice cullen

-sam uley

-Paul lahote

-charlie swan

-Leah clearwater

pjo

-Percy jackson

-Anabeth chase

-luke castellan

-clarrisse larue

-selena beauregard

-charles beckendorf

-ethan nakamura

-nico di anglo (no romantic fem readers)

-rachel elizabeth dare

-will solace

-travis stoll

-connor stoll

-hazel levesque (no romantic)

-jason grace

-leo valdez

-piper mclean

Magnus chase

-Magnus chase

-samirah al abbas ( no romantic)

-alex fierro

-blitzen

-hearthstone

-malory keen

-tj (thomas jefferson jr)

Kane chronicles (havent read it in a while so might be ooc)

-Carter kane

-sadie kane

-anubis

-walt stone

Bridgerton

-Benedict

-Anthony

-Eloise

-Daphne

MCU (Avengers)

-bucky Barnes

-steve rogers

-tony stark

-sam wilson

-natasha romanoff

-yelena belova

-Peter Parker (tom holland and andrew garfield)

-MJ

-Wanda maximof

-Piedro maximof

-Clint barton

-scott lang

-stephen strange

-kate bishop

MCU ( Guardians of the galaxy)

-peter quill

-gamora

Moonknight

-steven grant

-mark spector

-layla el-faouly

Daredevil (Season 1)

-matt murdock

-Foggy nelson

-Karen page

-James wesley

X-men universe

-Deadpool

-Weasly

-francis

-Xavier

-negasonic

-mystic

-Angel

-kurt

Venom

-Eddie Brock

DC

-Harley Quinn

-Jason Todd

-Dick Grayson (any version, young justice, robin, nightwing,etc.)

-wally west

-Artemis

-roy harper (young justice)

Disney Descendants

-Mal

-Evie

-Carlos devil

-Jay

-Benjamin beast

-Chad charming

-Audrey rose

-jane

-lonnie

-Uma

-Harry hook

-Gil

Rise of red

-james hook

-hades

-bridget

-ella

-cloe

-red

-morgie

Kingsmen

-Eggsy

Tiny Pretty things (Netflix)

-Bette Whitlaw

-oren lennox

-shane madej (no romantic fem readers)

-June park

Jennifers Body

-Jennifer Check

-Colin gray

Ever after high

-all characters

Redacted Audios (no x reader, just ships)

-literally all characters

[lightning-writes]

good heart (faulty machine of a man) - 16/30

fic summary: bucky meets someone at therapy

chapter summary: …until he’s not alone (alternatively - rue had other intentions)

word count: 2452 

tags: post endgame, pre tfatws, slow burn, canon divergent, canon compliant, au

warnings: none

a/n: part 2 of bucky's thanksgiving is very spicy :)

AO3 MASTERLIST X

(When was the last time Bucky was nervous about seeing a girl?

Maybe, it was the first time he’d kissed a girl, at fifteen. Or maybe it was the first time he went on a date with a girl, Katherine Brown. Or maybe, it was the first time he’d snuck out of his house to see a girl at her house, at seventeen; he’d climbed the tree by her house, to her window, and nearly fell when the porch light came on.

Actually, it might have been the time he had sex for the first time, the night before he was deployed, with Dottie Clark. He was twenty, and all he could think was he needed to do this, to be a man, before he proved himself a man in the war.)

He knocks on the door, and in the moments it takes her to answer, he wonders what the hell he’s doing here. Does she expect something from him? Is something going on with her? Flashes of her tearful face fill his memory.

(Is this some sort of unusual trap? his brain screams. Is she revealing her villainous intentions?)

The door opens. Rue’s hair is down, thick waves over her shoulders, and she’s still in that green dress. Close now, he sees its velvet with a deep neckline. He sees the tattoo of crossed knives and a curling design disappearing beneath her breasts.

(He sees gooseflesh ripple over her skin as the cold from outside comes in.)

His eyes quickly zip back to hers. She noticed him noticing her. He passes a nervous hand through his hair.

“Hey.” She leans her head against the door and offers a lazy smile. “Glad you could make it.”

He studies her. He can’t tell if her smudged makeup and red eyes are from tiredness or tears. “Sorry I couldn’t make it earlier.”

“Better late than never.” She moves aside, stretching an arm to invite him in. “I like this better.”

(The alarm bells in his head won’t let him admit it, but he likes it better too.)

Bucky walks in and surveys the open concept of kitchen, dining room, and living room. There’s a big Christmas tree, not yet dressed, in the space between dining and living room. There are still plates and food in the dining room and kitchen. The light is warm and low, candles burning on the table.

“My roommate is staying at her boyfriend’s place,” she tiptoes to get some wine glasses. Her dress rides up. He sees the word ADORE on the back of her right thigh. “So, I’m on clean up duty.”

“I could help,” Bucky offers, clearing his throat after a beat.

“You’re sweet.” She pulls the stopper from the already open red wine bottle easily, pouring it into a glass. “Do you want some wine? I have stronger stuff, too.”

“I’ll pass for now.”

(He can’t tell if it’s because he hasn’t seen her drunk before, but his intuition says something is wrong. He doesn’t ask her yet, though, afraid it might trip a wire in her.)

“Okay.” She takes a deep drink from her glass. She starts bringing plates into the kitchen with her free hand. At this rate, she’ll be here all night. He starts to help. “Oh, are you hungry?” she asks, “We have tons of leftovers.”

“I’m good for now,” he sticks with this line.

“But I made pumpkin pie.” She pouts a cute pout. She must know how cute it is. “Please, have some.”

He relents, “I’ll have a slice.”

She grins and puts her glass down to serve a slice. “How was your Thanksgiving, what did you do?”

(Panic flares up his throat when his mind flashes to Evie. His brain short-circuits when he watches her spray whipped cream in her mouth after spraying some of his pie.)

He lies, saying he went to George’s. She moves around the kitchen, a little wobbly, a little sloppy, cleaning up as he talks and eats pie, leaning against the counter. She asks about the gym, about George; she also asks about Sam, if they ever reconciled.

(When she bends to load the dishwasher, he notes the curve of her ass and the nakedness down the front of her dress. He keeps averting his eyes despite his nature to stare.)

“Can I ask you a personal question?” she suddenly asks. She’s nearly done clearing the table and counters.

Bucky braces himself for the worst. Questions about being the Winter Soldier, about Hydra, about his missions, about his brainwashing. About his sessions with Raynor, about his friendship with Steve or Sam. His brain even, briefly, considers this question a play for her to reveal she is a secret agent.

“Okay.”

“Did you disappear, five years ago?” She hops up onto a counter, a little taller than him. “Like… dusted?”

“Was I snapped?” He repeats it because this is the funniest question he would have never imagined her asking. She nods, eyeing him curiously. “Yeah… yeah, I was.”

“What was that like?”

(To the untrained eye, her expression looks open and curious. But Bucky can see how curated it is, the mask of interest when she has a different motive, a different feeling about this question. He wants to pull that cord, but what if it detonates something?)

“It was like… nothing,” he answers honestly, “one minute I’m there, one minute I’m crumbling away. And when I came back, I knew there was something going on because I was ready to fight.”

“I wonder if it was like that for everyone.” She goes for her wine glass and realizes it’s empty. Her eyes wander to the counter behind him, to the bottle, but he pretends not to notice. “Maeve was dusted,” she says into the empty glass.

“I know, you told me.”

“Right… she never told me what it was like, when she was gone. She just told me she was glad to be back.” When Bucky doesn’t speak, she says, “I proposed to her the day she got back, you know.”

His brows raise. “Really?”

She nods, “If it wasn’t for Vick, I would have married her that weekend.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything, putting his plate in the dishwasher, next to her swinging legs. She has a tattoo of a dragonfly on her shin closest to him. He looks up at her, but her gaze is miles away.

“She showed up tonight.” Her voice is low.

“I thought she was MIA.”

Rue’s eyes fill with tears, but anger sets her jaw. “Yeah, well, she interrupted dinner, and even though everyone basically told her she’s not welcome here, she insisted on talking to me.”

“What did she say?”

(He knows Rue spoke to Maeve. He knows because he would have done the same. It would have been less about the conversation and more about wanting to press a thumb into the bruise that is heartbreak. Bucky thinks he and Rue are more alike than what meets the eye.)

Tears streak her face, but her voice doesn’t break, “She’s engaged.”

The final blow of the story propels her to her feet, and she pours the last of the wine into her glass. He hadn’t noticed how much she’d been drinking.

“I think… I’ll have that stronger stuff now,” Bucky says after a beat. This makes her laugh, wine to her mouth, a wet hysterical laugh turning into a drowned cry.

Bucky crowds her slumped frame. She’s not short, but in this state, she’s so small. She heaves a deep cry, painful sounds coming out of her, and Bucky carefully hugs her. He’s had to comfort people before, but not like this. Not inconsolable sobs that didn’t have an answer his wit or fists couldn’t handle. She slowly melts into his chest, her head pushed under his chin, her cries shaking her body. But he remains solid.

(Anger plumes like a smoke bomb in his chest. Maeve is something evil, to know Rue and to hurt her like this. Though they haven’t known each other long, he knows Rue hides behind the guise of naivety, and he knows she’s built of stronger stuff. To see Rue like this, he knows Maeve is a true villain. He holds Rue tighter, a sudden realization that he wants to protect her at all costs, against any threat, physical or emotional.)

“Ugh, I’m sorry.” She rips herself from him, stumbling back to the other counter. Her frenzied hands wipe her flooded face. “I keep dumping this nonsense on you, and god, the crying–”

“Stop.” Her eyes snap to his, and he takes her shoulders. Her eyes are still watery, but she seems to melt under his gaze. “You don’t deserve any of this.”

“Bucky…” her forehead slams into his chest.

“You don’t.” His tone is firm. “Now, can I ask you a personal question?”

She peeks up at him through a squinted eye.

“I guess it’s only fair.”

“How many tattoos do you have?”

She laughs, her confused eyes searching his expression for something, but he can’t pick up what.

“Maybe twenty something? Mostly small ones. And that excludes these guys,” she holds up her hands to show the dots and little doodles decorating her knuckles. Then, she covers her face. “Do you want to see an embarrassing one?”

“When you put it like that…”

She turns her back to him, unzipping her dress. His face heats, but when she stops half way and the dress falls from her shoulders, he nearly laughs. At the base of her neck is a small pair of angel wings; to the right, she has flowers flowing from her back onto her shoulder, and on the left, there’s a large blue outline of the Avenger’s ‘A’ emblem.

The blue pops against her tan skin. But then, he sees it. The scar running through one of the legs of the ‘A’. It’s raised and crude, a little darker than her skin. Without thinking, he traces it with a finger, feeling the imperfection of it.

(She shivers. He doesn’t shrink back.)

“I got it after the alien attack, back in 2012.” She tries to rezip the dress on her own; Bucky helps her gently. “I was about to get crushed by a falling building, but then, your buddy,” she turns to give him a meaningful look, “had pushed me out of the way. He’d used the shield to keep us from getting hurt. I mean, my back obviously had been hit by some debris, but…” she shrugs. “He saved me.”

After a beat, Bucky says flatly, “So… you’re, like, a super fan.”

(She laughs, and he really likes it.)

////

“I… I don’t want to be alone,” she had said. “Please stay?”

He agrees.

She gets him a drink of bourbon Victoria’s boyfriend leaves for himself. She turns off the overhead light in the dining room, plunging the whole space into darkness, aside from the candles on the table. She moves around him in the dark, despite her drunkenness, maneuvering to switch a few lamps on in the living room. She tells him to wait there before disappearing into her room.

He takes off his jacket, resting it on the back of one of the dining chairs, and sits on the couch, getting comfortable. He fiddles with his knife, the one usually in his boot, while he sips the bourbon. It’s good.

She returns, wearing an oversized shirt and a fluffy robe. She stands in the space between his splayed knees. He’s got an arm around the back of the couch, so he has to look up at her.

“Can I tell you something?”

Her face is void of makeup or expression. He’s curious.

“Sure.”

“This was supposed to be a booty call.”

(His eyes land on her thick bare thigh, a fresh and complicated tattoo design disappearing under the hem. He registers that she isn’t wearing anything beneath the shirt by the barbell piercings through her nipples.)

“Yeah, I could see that,” he says evenly, gaze drifting back up to hers.

She shifts her weight to one hip, making the shirt lift on one side. He keeps his eyes on her half-lidden ones.

“But that wouldn’t be fair,” she says.

(He sees she’s nervous. Maybe not nervous, just on edge. Anticipating.)

“To you.”

“To me?” he echoes in shock. He raises an amused brow. He moves his knee to touch hers. She doesn’t move. “How isn’t it fair to me, Ruby?”

Her nostrils flare at her full name, but it's a sharp breath she takes.

“You deserve better than to be used,” she says matter-of-factly.

(He’s not sure why, but that spears him through the heart.)

“Same to you,” he returns. “You also drank almost a whole bottle of wine.”

“You could have helped.”

“I don’t think anything was stopping you,” he says, lapsing into a chuckle. “Not even a super soldier.”

His eyes stay on hers, and he takes another drink from his glass.

(Maybe he’s anticipating too.)

“I just don’t think it’d be a good idea.”

He leans forward, and he sees her tense. He uses the hilt of the knife to lift the hem of her shirt. He also notes how gooseflesh travels up her hip.

“It’s a tarot card, Death,” she breathes, like any sudden movement might startle him. From stopping. “It means–”

“Ending a cycle, new beginnings, change.” He anchors his metal hand against her thigh, tracing the skull design with his thumb. He hears her swallow. “It’s new.”

“Yeah.”

He looks up at her as he pulls away from her. Her gaze is thick and sharp. The city and the world outside of the apartment fades as he focuses on her haloed in warm light.

(Her lips are still stained from the wine. They look like she’d been in a hot-and-heavy kissing session, and it makes him hard thinking about it.)

“I’m following your lead here,” his voice is low.

“That’s not fair.”

He smirks, knowing it’s his advantage. “I’m a gentleman.”

“Okay.”

When he leans back as she moves, he’s anticipating her to settle onto his lap. Instead, she sits next to him and grabs the remote. She turns it on without looking at him, and he can’t help but smile while tucking his knife back into its holster concealed by his boot.

“Hey, wait, I like that show,” he points. She goes back to the channel she’s passed.

“You’re a Trekkie?”

“It was one of the few shows in Russian,” he says, “in the 70’s.”

He raises his arm and looks at her expectantly. She studies him for a moment, and he wonders what’s passing through her mind. He wonders if she’s fighting the same thing he is. Finally, she yields, tucking herself into his side.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Tattoo Artist Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings (per the warnings MDNI): foul language, suggestive themes, brief non-consensual grab (non-graphic)

Word Count: 5.2k

A/N: Part One of Ink & Needle

Inside the club Riot Room, you meet a masked stranger.

Chapter Two

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // ink & needle masterlist

The puddle in the caved pavement ripples as a raindrop shatters its silent surface. Small, but growing larger and wider until the water is still again. Another raindrop falls from the sky and the process is repeated.

A beginning. An end. A beginning. An end. A—

Fresh start.

New roots.

The brick that starts the riot.

All things have a beginning. This moment is no different, because it feels like the start of something, and for so many fucking reasons.

And it’s not just the water. It isn’t only the water. There is a neon sign, and its reflection is in that tiny pool. A bright pink that is at odds with the old London architecture surrounding it. Maybe the color is melting, or maybe it’s your imagination, and your brain has finally kicked off and this is its farewell salute.

Why, when you are here for someone else’s beginning, does it really feel like yours? It’s not sour or sweet or foul or sticky but heavy as if your boots are filled with liquid cement.

This is supposed to be Evie’s night. This is her bar crawl. This is her marriage. This is her bachelorette party. But now you’re at the last place of the evening, and everything is suddenly barring down like an avalanche.

Riot Room blares the pink neon sign. It’s loud, and the very edges of your consciousness ache from how bright it is. You’re not even standing that close.

Below the sign is an archway with an open gate. A tall man in all-black stands off to the side of it checking IDs and handing out wristbands. From the open gate comes a pounding, shredding beat that you’re not sure is heavy metal, electronic, or a combination of the two.

Riot Room is completely different from the other places you’ve visited tonight. The four places before this were all quaint pubs with odd names and a nostalgic sense of comfort. Riot Room is a club. There is nothing quaint or nostalgic about it.

Two scantily clad women in black leather wearing large coats trot by, their heads bent close as they talk to each other. Their lips are painted a dark purple that resembles bruising as if they’ve been kissed roughly.

To your right, Sam’s gaze drops to span the length of one of the women. She looks on in appreciation, her pink-painted lips pursing with interest. Her dark skin is speckled with gold dust and her tight curls are bundled up on the top of her head in two big buns.

Sam’s gaze draws away from the woman’s bare legs. Her gaze falls on you, and you grin widely, knowing she’s been caught. The corner of her mouth quirks with a hint of smile.

She leans in until your shoulders touch. “It’s not like you weren’t looking.”

You lean in a bit more until your noses are close to brushing. “But I wasn’t the one who got caught.”

Sam laughs and pulls away, the sound of it bright and airy. She waves her hand as if trying to ward off evil.

Once she’s caught her breath, Sam leans around you, addressing the two women standing to your left. “Ready, ladies?”

Jade tilts her head, her blue ponytail shifting to fall over her right shoulder. She crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. “Did you pick this place, Sam? Seems like a ‘you’ kind of place.”

Sam nods toward Evie with one of her buns. “The bride-to-be agreed to this.”

You and Jade turn in unison. Evie shrugs. “I did.”

Jade snorts and holds out an outstretched hand toward the club. “You hate these kinds of places.”

“Oh my god,” mutters Sam throwing her arms up in the air, her gold bangles clacking against each other.

Evie laughs softly, and the sound is sweet enough to rot your teeth. That’s the thing about Evelyn Green. She is the nicest, most kind-hearted, selfless person you’ll ever meet. Rarely does this woman do anything for herself, and putting this evening together for her was a struggle. Not because she’s difficult, but because she wanted tonight to be about everyone, not just herself.

Evie’s button-nose scrunches slightly. “I told Sam I wanted to come. When am I ever going to go to a place like this after I marry Archie?”

Jade’s lips form into a thin line and she shakes her head. “Archie is the most un-pretentious rich boy I’ve ever met in my life. He’d love you even if you were a plastic bag. And he hates all those events the two of you go to anyway.”

“Yes,” agrees Evie. “But he’s required to go, and once we’re married, I will have to attend as well.” Her face falls slightly, and it’s understandable.

Evie’s fiancée comes from wealth—the old money kind. Archie’s great grandfather is of British nobility, and while Archie isn’t titled, that doesn’t really seem to matter. He is well-educated, and many of his closest friends and colleagues all run in the same circles.

Evie is not from that life. She grew up a poor coal miner’s daughter in southern Missouri. She managed to scrounge up enough money to move to Columbia to attend Mizzou and met Archie during an exchange program. She was in a park, and Archie was playing soccer with friends. Knocked her in the side of the head with the ball. Archie sat with her in the ambulance and the two went on a date the next day.

They’re in love, and it’s a gorgeous, beautiful thing. But not all of Archie’s family is supportive of their marriage. Many look down on her for her background. Evie acts like it doesn’t bother her, but you know different. Those events they attend together cut deep, tear into her until there is nothing left but her forced smile.

Jade sighs loudly and then turns toward Sam, pointing at her. “If I find out you forced her—”

Sam groans and then grabs Jade’s outstretched forearm, tucking Jade against her side as the two of them walk arm-in-arm towards the club. “Oh shove it, Jade,” mutters Sam.

Evie giggles and holds out her hand to you, wiggling her fingers. Grinning, you entwine your fingers with Evie’s and follow the bickering duo.

They argue all the way to the door. IDs are checked. Wristbands are handed out. A cover is paid. And then you’re walking through the gate, under the archway, and into an open courtyard.

That heaviness returns, and your boots feel like lead. Something about this place is different from the rest, and you cannot put a finger on what you’re sensing. It’s a change in the direction of the wind. It’s a falling autumn leaf. There is a shift happening, and you’re not aware of where it might come from.

The night sky is directly above your head, and you can see every star in the sky. To your immediate right—just inside the gate—is a coat check. Next to it is a stage where a man in a Jason Voorhees mask stands behind a DJ booth. He is shirtless, well-muscled, and covered in fake blood. Though both feet are on the ground, the rest of his body shakes and writhes with the intensity of the music. The bass is the loudest aspect, rattling around in your body until you start to feel dizzy.

On stage with DJ Voorhees are several other masked men. They too wear hockey masks, but they are all painted a different color. They don’t wear shirts either and they jump around on the stage, pushing and shoving each other, occasionally dropping down into the crowd to do the same before running to the stage.

The crowd is thick but mostly near the front of the stage. Beyond them on the far side of the courtyard is the bar. It’s long, spanning nearly the entire wall, with several bartenders and barbacks working along it. Next to the bar near the stage is a set of stairs that leads up into a building. People enter and exit through the door. There are windows but they’re entirely blacked out and you have no idea what might be back there.

You scan the length of the bar and find another set of stairs on the other end. This one descends and next to it is another gate—this one much smaller than the entrance—guarded by security. The back wall of the courtyard—the one facing the stage—is lined with people, but there is walking space between them and the crowd near the stage.

Evie’s smile widens, and you suddenly don’t care anymore. This is for her, even if you feel uneasy. Her happiness is the most important thing right now.

“I’m grabbing us drinks,” yells Sam over the music. She gestures with her thumb over her shoulder before she heads that way.

Evie steps a bit closer to you. She’s nervous but eager as she squeezes your hand.

One of the masked men jumps off the stage and into the crowd. They all yell and then he pops up, throwing himself in people’s faces. You instinctually step forward to block Evie as he darts around a club-goer and appears directly in front of you.

“Fuck off,” you yell when he pushes himself into your face. All you see is the purple-painted hockey mask and he won’t fucking move. He just stands there like an ill omen that won’t allow you to look away.

You’re about to speak, your lips and tongue forming the shape of what you want to say. Then, he disappears, as if knowing your intention.

Jade snags your upper arm and leans in, her gaze fixed on the point the guy slipped away to. “I’ll stay with Evie. Go check on Sam. Make sure she isn’t just buying us tequila shots.”

Evie reluctantly gives up your hand as you navigate the congested dancefloor. You have to twist your upper body to avoid collisions. Just through the crowd, you can just make out Sam’s buns. A man steps into your path. He isn’t looking—likely too drunk to even notice that you’re right behind him—and you step out of the way to avoid is wayward swagger.

But there are too many goddamn people, and you can’t avoid them all. Instead of him, you bump into someone else.

“Shit. Sorry. I—” You glance up. “Oh fuck.”

A wraith stands before you, all cold shadow and violent foreboding. Dark eyes surrounded by pale eyelashes observe you from behind a black balaclava. Around the mouth are skeleton teeth but they’re a tad faded which only adds to the ominous presence of this strange man. He is tall, and you have to bend your neck to see directly into his face, and that doesn’t even take into account how broad his shoulders are.

Space is non-existent. The only thing you understand about your surroundings is him. This man is a being out of hell, a creature of fire and blood, and yet you’re drawn to him. You are a pale moth, a gentle creature, and he is the pyre in which you will burn.

He takes hold of your upper arm, and his grip is strong. His strength is both a threat and a comfort. He could snap you in two, but it’s placement and how firmly he holds on to you tells you otherwise. This man is dangerous, and yet through the hardness is a softness in the brow that you recognize as concern. His dark eyes narrow, and as he pulls you closer to him, he leans in before his gaze moves to a stop over your right shoulder.

“You okay?”

It isn’t the wraith gripping your upper arm who’s addressing you. You glance over your left shoulder and meet a softer expression. Black hair cut short, tanned skin, and kind eyes. This man is completely different from the one that still holds onto your arm.

“Fine,” you murmur but realize he can’t hear you over the music. “I’m fine.” This time you project, and he nods.

“Gaz!” He turns away, and a different man holds out a plastic cup full of beer to him.

Gaz takes it and then this newcomer turns in your direction. You want to leave, to walk away, but that’s difficult when your upper arm is still in a vice grip. You shake it, trying to throw the stranger’s grasp, and make no ground. His hand stays put.

“Who’s this?” asks the newcomer, and you recognize the accent as a Scottish one.

“Some wanker ran into her. Knocked her right into Ghost.”

“Fucking hell. You good, Lt?”

Ghost doesn’t say anything, or if he does, you don’t hear him over the music. Shaking your arm again, you attempt to free yourself for a second time. Ghost still doesn’t let go. Instead, he tugs you a little closer until you feel his body heat.

You hate being told what to do, and you especially hate men who cannot take a fucking hint. You try again, ready to smack the balaclava right off Ghost’s face if he doesn’t release you. But he does, and his grip is gone so suddenly that you nearly topple backward.

Acting bolder than you feel, you give Ghost your best scowl before turning toward Gaz, your mouth forming into a smile. “Thank you,” you say, excusing yourself quickly and heading toward the bar.

“What kind of a name is Ghost?” you mutter to yourself just as Sam turns around from the bar. She cradles six drinks in her arms like a newborn baby.

“Jesus fucking Christ.” You reach for them, grabbing one before it tips over to spill across the floor.

“Jade sent you, didn’t she?” laughs Sam, handing you another plastic cup. “Can’t trust me after that tequila incident.”

“No comment,” you answer, making sure the drinks you’re holding are secure and won’t slip out of your grasp.

When you return to Jade and Evie, the two women have their arms wrapped around each other, swaying in a little circle, giggling hysterically. The moment you and Sam appear, Evie is pulling away from Jade, reaching for the gin and tonic you hold out to her. When the drinks are distributed, Sam and Jade have one in each hand while you and Evie only hold one.

Before this, the four of you visited four different pubs, and had plenty of drinks at each establishment. While it’s nearing the end of the night, there isn’t any reason for you to go overboard. Slowing down might be best, especially if Sam and Jade are going to double-fist drinks the rest of the night. Tomorrow—technically today at this hour—is supposed to be a spa day with some of the women from Archie’s family. Hungover is the last think you want to be while dealing with them.

As your lips suction around the head of the straw, you feel a pull, a tug toward the back wall of the courtyard. You resist the urge, refuse to look because you know who you’ll find. Instead, you suck on the straw, focus on the bite of the gin, sway your hips until the pounding beat is all you know in your veins.

But the pull won’t release. It won’t slacken. And the more and more you resist, the more it aches to not look, because no matter how startling his appearance is, it intrigues you, makes you think about how long it’s been and how you wish to be touched.

Would he keep the balaclava on? Would he take it off? And why does that intrigue you?

You start to turn, to surrender to the tug, and then snap back to reality, nearly knocking into Jade as you force yourself away from looking. The drink in your plastic cup sloshes harshly against the side but doesn’t spill over.

Evie leans in, her lips close to your ear, and she nods in the direction of the tug. “That guy won’t stop staring at you.”

“Who?” you ask innocently, knowing exactly who Evie is referring to.

“Mystery masked man.” Evie grins, her straw caught between her upper and lower teeth.

This time you look. There he is. Ghost, as his friends called him. He leans against the wall, the same small group of people surrounding him from earlier. They’re all talking, but Ghost is staring in your direction, and his gaze is locked in on you.

You quickly glance away and shrug even as a dull heat warms your limbs. “Looks like trouble.”

“Looks like a good time if you ask me.”

“Evie,” you gasp, bumping her shoulder.

“What?” she laughs, sucking up the last bit of her drink.

Jade goes up on her toes, her head swiveling back and forth. “Who are we looking at?”

Sam catches on and twists, glancing in the same direction. She’s successful first. “Oh my god.” Sam leans in until her cheek is pressed against your own. “That man is staring at you.”

“I know!” You pull back a bit, but Sam doesn’t let you go far.

She bumps your shoulder. “Go talk to him.”

“And say what?”

“Hello. Have anyone waiting on you? No? Great. Let’s get out of here. You can even keep the mask on.”

You roll your eyes. “No. I’m not doing that.” You reach out and snag Evie’s arm. “And it’s her night. Why would I leave y’all for a hook-up?”

Sam finishes one of her drinks. She removes the straw and pops it into the other cup, doubling it up by putting the full plastic cup into the empty one. “Listen, if you won’t. I will. The guy next to him with the dark hair is an absolute snack. Even the older guy with the weird mustache is making my daddy issues purr.”

Jade’s eyes widen slightly. She nods enthusiastically. “Oh he is quite nice.”

“Right? Girl. I could take him and not in a fight.”

“Fine!” you exclaim. “I’ll go talk to him.” You turn toward Evie. “If you’re okay with it?”

Evie grins around her straw. You know what it means. Evie wants you to go because she wants to see everyone happy, but you wouldn’t call yourself excited. That heavy feeling is back, the one that feels like a new beginning.

The issue is that fresh starts are a cleansing. They are often a renewal. You think of cold water, of a slate wiped clean, but there are other markers for such things. Fire destroys but it also creates the opportunity for new life. Controlled burnings are a thing, and this man—this Ghost—can only be fire.

“I need a refill anyway,” you mutter, turning toward the bar, some of your confidence slipping.

You take a deep breath, the alcohol in your blood singing, giving you a feeling of lightness that makes your feet move of their own accord even as they want to drag. It is confounding. You don’t know what you want.

Slowly, you navigate through the crowd, moving ever closer to your wraith. He watches you the entire time. As you draw nearer, and your gazes lock, he straightens. Ghost pushes off from the wall like he’s expecting you to come to him. You notice the rise and fall of his chest, and the way his right hand clenches and unclenches in anticipation.

The gesture is so surprising, you lose all your nerve, walking right past him and to the bar. You don’t have to see him to know that he’s watching. His gaze is a drill, and you sense the bite of it at your back. Your palms are sweaty, and you discard your empty drink in the nearest trash bin.

You order another gin and tonic, handing over a crumpled pound note to the bartender. As you turn around, you notice that Ghost is gone. He isn’t leaning against the wall or even lingering with his friends. They’re still there, chatting away, but Ghost is missing.

Your heartrate kicks up and it’s suddenly so loud you don’t hear the thunderous pulsing beat of the music. It’s like you’re standing in a dark train tunnel, and everything is narrowing down to a single point. The crowd near the bar has grown in the last few minutes. People walk up and down the stairs next to the bar, and now that you’re actually focused on the building, you can some of the interior lights.

Evie, Sam, and Jade are out of sight, but you know they’re probably rolling their eyes, ready to question you about why you didn’t approach him. Better to accept your defeat and move on. Yes, there is a tug, a tether attached to this stranger that you cannot seem to shed, but you don’t know this person. There is no harm in not pushing this further, in moving on, and pretending you never met him in the first place.

“Whatever,” you mutter to yourself, as the roar of the music comes rushing back.

As you squeeze between two people, one of the mask-wearing men from the stage appears from nowhere. It’s the same guy from earlier. The one with the purple hockey mask who threw himself at you and Evie. You step back and bump into someone. That momentum only pushes you closer to him.

Purple-mask cages you in, lunges repeatedly like he’s going to grab you or hit you. It’s intimidating. Awful. You want to tell him to leave you alone, but the music is so loud you’d have to scream.

You step to the left to try and move around him, but he only puts himself back in your path. This time, you form the shape of a bite, ready to sting with your words, but all conscious thought leaves you the moment his hand makes contact.

He does touch. And it is not gentle.

He tugs on your jacket, then your top, then your jacket again. You bat is hand away, try to move out of range, but he is so much faster. His arm goes around you, and then he drags you in like you asked to dance.

“Let go!” You yank your arm free, but the guy still holds firm, guiding you deeper into the crowd.

Everything is hot. Tight. Overwhelming. Stealing all breath.

You pull again. “Let go!”

This time he does. This time, he disappears.

Ghost looms like a dark shadow, his hand around the guy’s neck. His palm is large to the point that Ghost’s hand easily encases the man’s throat.

“Touching a woman without her consent isn’t polite. In fact, I’ve killed men over less. How about you apologize to her, yeah?”

It’s the first time you’ve heard Ghost speak. Even over the music, you easily hear the rough, gruff timbre of his voice. It’s harsh like liquor and yet entirely smooth when it washes over your body and floods your senses.

Ghost drops the guy and he immediately bolts, darting through the crowd and pushing people out of his way. Ghost does not run after him.

Instead, he turns toward you and lowers himself enough to get close. All you see are his eyes which at first seemed dark, but now look like how light shines through a whiskey bottle.

“Did he hurt you?” The concern in his voice is genuine, and somehow that pleases you. There is a small trace of anger, but it’s fleeting, and not worthy of attention. Ghost isn’t worried about your purple-masked assailant. He’s worried about you.

You shake your head. “No.” Lick your lips. Breathe deep. “No. I’m fine.”

His pale eyelashes look like little halos. Is the hair on his head the same? Is it darker?

“You sure?” he asks, this time starting to straighten a bit.

“Yes. I just—I need some air.”

Ghost nods. “Come with me.” His hand gently rests against your elbow, and you accept it. This touch is not a threat, and you surrender to him, allowing him to lead you away from the crowd. They part easily as if on instinct. Maybe Ghost is truly that intimidating.

Ghost leads you to the far edge of the bar near the secondary set of stairs. He does not escort you down the stairs but to the other archway you noticed earlier. The security guard nods at the two of you and then you step down onto damp pavement in a little alleyway.

Your rescuer immediately pulls out a pack of smokes from the inside of his leather jacket. He selects one and then holds the pack out to you. You reach for one. It’s a reflex. You tend to smoke when you drink because it prevents you from drinking more than you need, but sometimes all you do is chain smoke and then you can’t talk the next day. It’s a terrible habit but one you haven’t been able to kick.

“Thank you,” you murmur once your cigarette is lit. He simply nods and pushes up his balaclava to suck on his own.

You try not to stare but you catch the faint hint of a long scar along the edge of his jaw. Beneath that, his entire neck is a solid black tattoo. You’ve seen them before, where people blackout parts of their body in ink. His stretches across the muscles in his neck, and when he inhales, you take note of every ripple of muscle. The strength there is astounding.

Glancing away quickly, pretending you weren’t admiring him, you clear your throat. “I didn’t catch your name.”

Ghost cannot be his name. There’s no way.

He exhales, the smoke drifting up into the air. “That important to you?”

“Yes.”

He stares at you for a moment. “Ghost.”

Fuck. Why’d you think he’d say anything different from a man wearing a balaclava out in public. It’s not his real name. That’s obvious, but you’re not sure if you want to push the matter. Yet it does make you wonder why he didn’t give you his real name.

You decide not to push it, giving him your name instead. As he exhales, the smoke fans upward to crown his head like a pair of horns before twisting off into the night sky.

“Why’d you scowl at me?” he asks, ashing his cigarette.

You run your tongue over your front teeth before speaking the lie. “I didn’t scowl.”

“But you were angry,” says Ghost, pointing his cigarette in your direction before he takes a drag.

“You wouldn’t let me go,” you counter, growing annoyed with this line of questioning.

“Someone knocked you down. You didn’t speak or look at me. And I’m the one you ran into. I was concerned.”

“For a complete stranger?”

“I’m a compassionate person.”

You sigh and roll your eyes. “And yet you threatened to kill the man who touched me.”

Ghost points toward the gate, emphasizing each word with a light thrust of his hand. “The threat was deserved.”

I’ve killed men over less.

His words rattle around in your head. What normal person says something like that? The fact that he said it without fear makes you question what line of work he’s in.

Ghost drops his arm and takes another drag on his cigarette.

You should be afraid. You should walk back inside to your friends. That’s the safe thing to do. It’s the smart thing. But you’re feeling a bit bold—and a little annoyed. You want to know where this goes or if it’ll lead nowhere at all.

Straightening your shoulders, you drop your cigarette and put it out with the toe of your boot. “My friends think I should fuck you.”

It’s out of your mouth before you have the chance to think twice. Ghost’s hand pauses halfway to his mouth.

His head tilts slightly, and then turns in your direction. “What?”

You hate repeating yourself, but you’ve already said the words. You cannot take them back.

“My friends noticed you staring at me. Told me to talk to you. If I didn’t, one of them would have.”

Ghost fully shifts in your direction. He takes one step toward you. Another. There is a dark swagger there, and he’s trying desperately not to smile.

“You want to have it off?”

Yes.

“Thanks for the offer but I really should leave.” You start to step backward as if to return to the club.

Ghost must realize this because he moves like a bullet, blocking your path, planting one hand against the brick wall behind you. Your gaze falls on his hand and you notice all the tattoos. They cover his fingers and the back of his hand, disappearing under the sleeve of his black leather jacket.

“You’re taking the piss.” Ghost is smiling now but it’s not nefarious or cruel. He’s politely amused, and that is somehow worse. He leans in until you can smell the rich scent of his cologne. “You want to fuck or not?”

You swallow, desperately wanting to say yes. “I have to stay here. Can’t leave my friends.”

Ghost shakes his head and lowers his voice. “We don’t need to leave.”

The thick lust in his tone worms its way into your bones. From there, it oozes from the marrow, sinking into your blood and nerves, consuming every piece of you until your autonomy is nearly snatched from your control.

“You’re being awfully bold,” you murmur.

“You suggested it. I’m simply finishing it.”

“Don’t play games.”

“I’m not.” Ghost straightens a bit. “But I don’t want to unless you’re willing.”

He is sensing you hesitation, and it’s not that you don’t want to. It’s that you’re making excuses because that’s what you do. You step around things, shimmy by issues, and try to avoid as much as you can.

You cross your arms and pop a hip. “I am willing. But I don’t believe you when you say we don’t have to leave.”

He smirks. “So I can’t bend you over that box?” Ghost nods his head at a point behind you but you don’t even look.

“Very funny,” you deadpan.

Ghost straightens his back and his hand falls away from the wall. “This place has an underground area. Mostly employee only but there are a few back rooms where the…musical guests stay.”

“You know an awful lot about this place. Take women down there often?”

Ghost shakes his head. “Never. I like to scope a place out first.”

I’ve killed men over less.

What does he do for a living that he wears a fucking balaclava out in public and wants to “scope a place out” first? Every possibility flows in and then directly out of your head. Any of them could be possible.

“You’re not making a good case for yourself.”

He shrugs. “Up to you. Come with me or don’t.”

Ghost’s word and tone are casual, but you see the tension in every muscle and in the way he carries himself. There is a hesitation in him. A fear that you might say no. But the gin in your veins is strong, and it’s singing, convincing you to go with him.

When do you ever take risks?

“Okay,” you murmur. Then, more loudly. “Lead the way.”

Chapter Two

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