#she’s my little doll she’s my plaything she’s my darling

[goldensunset]

You made me want to draw Xion. How dare

same here bestie

[elizabethwritesmen]

I once was poison ivy

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Part 2 but now I’m your daisy

Older!Fireman!Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Synopsis - You've spent your entire life taking men who intend to manipulate you and manipulating them instead. It's the only way you know how to survive. Then, one day, you meet Steve Harrington and you realize love and lust are so much more than survival.

A/N - This will be a two-parter. Maybe three if it runs too long.

Warnings: Fluff, sexual themes, smut to come in the second part, talks of using men for their money, vivid description of a car accident, drunk driving.

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I've been breaking hearts a long time and Fooling with them older guys Just playthings for me to use

The napkin on my lap was in pieces.

I'd been tearing it apart, whether out of anxious habit or sheer boredom I wasn't sure.

The man sitting across from me just would not stop talking. He started the second I met up with him in the parking lot and hadn't closed his mouth since. I nodded along and provided just enough commentary to seem present, but my brain was miles away.

He cleared his throat, staring at me pointedly until I met his eyes, a saccharine smile gracing my face.

"Are you alright, doll? I know all this shop talk can be a lot for a pretty girl like you to keep up with," he stated with all the confidence in the world, and I fought a scoff at his condescension.

"Oh, I'm fine!" I grinned wildly, almost childlike, "To be honest, I'm just in awe of you. Absolutely fascinated. I keep asking myself what I did to deserve a date with you!"

The lies cut through my teeth like butter, slick and smooth. I knew they worked when he puffed out his chest and a red tint covered his full cheeks, "Well darling, if you keep talking to me like that, you'll get more than one date with me!"

"There's nothing I'd love more!"

I know I should've cursed him for all he was worth, but that's not how my lifestyle worked. I didn't care how much of a pig a man was, as long as his money was louder than his mouth. And this man's money definitely was.

You see, he was older, a business man. He worked at some high end finance job, and he was most definitely the boss. I met him through my own job. I was a waitress and he frequented my corner booth on his lunch breaks. He knew my schedule and came to eat every single day I worked at 12:00 sharp with a new story about his job, his divorce, or his 1970 Chevelle. On the days I didn't work, he stayed away, claiming I was the only girl there worth looking at. And, every time, he left me a crisp 100 as a tip.

The last time he'd come in, he'd ended his lunch by asking me on a date. He told me he wanted to pick a dress out for me and treat me to the nicest dinner I'd ever had. Poor thing had no idea he wasn't the first millionaire to offer that. I agreed happily, pushing down any reservations and forcing myself to look forward to it.

So there we were, at one of those restaurants where you have to dress formally and use certain etiquette. I hated those places, I knew I didn't belong there, but it was what I had to do and I always did it with a smile on my face.

He continued talking and I began fiddling with the Versace dress adorning me, tugging on the hem. I only heard snippets of what he was saying. After hearing a million men tell the same stories, I thought there was no reason to pay any real attention.

Our waitress startled me out of the trance I'd fallen into, dropping the check off at our table.

"Here," he smiled, placing $200 neatly in the little black book, "That's enough for you to add a cheesecake to-go for my beautiful companion, and to buy something pretty for yourself!"

The girl's eyes widened and she grinned, staring at the generous amount she'd been given. It took her mere moments to bring by a bag with the cheesecake in a box at the bottom, and I was finally done.

"I'll walk you to your car," Mr. Boring offered in a way that I couldn't possibly refuse.

Well, almost done.

Once we reached my Passat, he pressed me lightly against the driver's door and planted a sloppy kiss on my lips. I cringed my way through it until it was finally over, and he opened my door for me.

"Maybe we can go out again next week?" he proposed, "I'll call you and we can set it up."

"Of course!" I nodded, eagerly climbing into the seat.

"Oh, and before I forget," he sighed, pulling his wallet from his pocket and fishing out two more crisp hundred dollar bills, "This should cover gas and the rest is a thank-you for making an old man feel young again. Seeing you in that dress made my evening."

I smiled at him as he walked away, my expression dropping the second he was out of sight. And then, I was finally headed home.

Something happened for the first time In the darkest little paradise Shaking, pacing, I just need you

It was about a 30 minute drive to my house, and I had the music cranked up the entire way. I was passing through the last intersection before my highway exit when I saw something out of the corner of my eye.

It was an SUV, much bigger than my car, headed straight for me. It was going so fast but in that moment time slowed down. It was too late for me to stop or get out of the way, I knew I was screwed. I yanked the wheel to the right, hoping they wouldn't hit me directly. I thought that if they caught the back end of my car it would hurt less.

They slammed into the back driver's side door, just barely missing me, sending me careening across the highway and into the ditch. I screamed as my head slammed into my window, blood running down my temple and onto my neck.

Finally, everything stopped. My car was, beyond all rationality, still playing music. I turned it all the way down, looking around.

The SUV was upside down on the highway, engulfed in flames. I saw a man laying about 20 feet away from it on the asphalt. I prayed he was okay, and that nobody else was in his vehicle.

Then, I examined myself. Glass had shattered everywhere, and there was a pile of it in my lap. My poor Versace was tattered and bloody, and I frowned momentarily in a small fit of grief. The back of my car was completely done for, and I was shocked my airbags didn't go off. Of course, there was no impact to the front of my car.

It only took minutes for sirens to overtake the scene. There were two ambulances, a firetruck, and several police cars.

I slipped my seatbelt off, groaning at the pain. It felt like I'd been hit by a truck. I guess I had, in a manner of speaking. My body was suffering from the turmoil.

Shockingly, my door opened when I pulled the handle and I climbed out, falling to the ground with a cry and a sharp wince.

"Hey, hey, hey!" the voice was deep, and I glanced up to see the fireman it belonged to running in my direction, "Don't move, just stay still. Please, stay still. God, you could've died trying to climb out of that car. Too tough for your own good!" He kneeled beside me, his arms holding me up, his eyes scanning me for all signs of injury. "Here you go, calm down. It's okay now, I've got you."

His voice was soothing me, and so was his thumb as he rubbed calming circles on my hip.

"Please," I cried, my voice almost too small to be audible. I squirmed, trying and failing to break free, "I need... I need..."

I wasn't sure what I was pleading for. I just wanted relief. My bones felt like they were combusting.

"I'm gonna get you some help, sweetheart, I promise. You're safe with me." He called the paramedics over to have a look at me. They ran straight for us and he lifted me up placing me comfortably on the stretcher.

As he began to walk away, I called out meekly, "Please stay with me!" and reached blindly for his hand. He gave it to me and nodded, squeezing my palm lightly as he helped them wheel me to the ambulance. They got me inside of it and starting poking and prodding, asking me questions.

"I don't want to go to the hospital," I whined, "I'm fine, I don't need a hospital."

"We gotta get you to the hospital, sweetheart. I'm sorry, I know it's scary, but you're tough though, huh?," his voice was still so soothing, and I nodded, holding tighter to his hand that was still intertwined with mine.

"Will you come with me?" I stared up at him, my eyes wide and pitiful in a beg.

"I can't, I have to get back and help clean all this up," he told me, his voice regretful.

"Please," I was whimpering at that point, desperate. I hated begging but he was the only thing keeping me from an anxiety attack. The only thing grounding me. The only thing keeping me from asking questions like, what if I'm seriously hurt? What's going to happen with my car? Is my cheesecake okay? How am I going to replace this dress?

Okay, some of the questions were silly but cut me some slack. I'd just been hit by a truck.

He chewed his lip in thought for a moment before sighing, "Let me talk to my boss and see what I can do."

He was gone for about five minutes, but when he came back, he was only in a white T shirt and his turnout pants. He set his jacket and hat on the bench seat next to me and climbed in beside me, grasping my hand again.

"Thank you," I whispered, and the sweet smile he gave me warmed my tummy.

Hours passed in a flurry of medical stuff I didn't understand and tests being run. When everything calmed down, I was sitting on a bed in an ER, a thick medical grade bandaid on my temple where I hit the window and some pain killers in my system. Fortunately, I wasn't hurt badly at all, just extremely sore and shaken up. I had a concussion, but that was the brunt of it.

"Okay, Miss L/N. I've got a prescription here for painkillers, it should help soothe your soreness and your headache. Other than that, you're free to go," the doctor walked in the room and told me jovially. He was nice, he made me feel comfortable. I was thankful to have him instead of someone colder. But what really made me feel comfortable was the firefighter, whose name I'd discovered was Steve. He stayed right beside me the entire time, even when I was first admitted. He even called my mom for me when I was first admitted, and that's the only time he let go of my hand.

"I think that's all, thank you," I sincerely responded.

"Great. Then I'll leave you be. If anything else happens, come back. Concussions are no joke. But I'm sure Steve knows that, so you're in good hands. He'll take care of you," he gave us a pointed look, glancing from mine and Steve's interlaced fingers to our faces.

"Bye, Joe," Steve dramatized, rolling his eyes.

"Bye Steve. Bye Y/N," the doctor responded between laughs, taking his exit.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Steve turned to me, his hard features softening the second his eyes met mine.

"Have you heard anything else from my mom?" I asked, trying to keep the hope in my voice at bay.

"She checked on you once, about an hour ago. I told her I was taking care of you."

"Oh."

His eyes were boring into me, searching. I'm sure it seemed odd to him, a mother not immediately rushing to her child's side when she hears there's been an accident. Wasn't very strange to me, though. My mom had never spared much time for me.

He cleared his throat, speaking more quietly, "She said she wants me to get you home safe, so that's what I'm gonna do. One of the nurses is gonna give us a ride to the station and I'm gonna drive you from there."

"Well it's settled, then. Let's go," I beamed, grabbing his hand and hopping off the bed. I didn't make it very far, though, nearly collapsing the second my feet hit solid ground.

Steve was quick, catching me and holding me steady. I lifted my eyes and they met his, inches away. I could feel his breath, warm against my skin.

"Be careful there, Super Girl. You're too weak to take on the world just yet," he sighed, and I had to fight the urge to lean in.

He was handsome. I'd noticed it the second he ran over to me, my knight in dirty turnout gear. I'd noticed it again in the ambulance when he told me he could go to the hospital with me. And I noticed it as his arms squeezed me tighter.

"I can walk," I mumbled.

"I'm sure you can, but you aren't. Come on, I've got you," he stated, as if there was no room for argument or disagreement. One of the arms around me slipped down to the crook of my knees and he lifted, pulling me securely into his hold. I gasped, grasping tightly to his shirt, my nails leaving imprints in the soft fabric.

"Steve, I'm heavy!" I screeched, and he chuckled.

"Even if you were heavy, I can handle it," he said, like it was obvious. My stare stayed skeptical and he sighed, "Sweetheart, you're not heavy. You're nothing compared to the gear I wear and haul, and the people I have to carry out of buildings."

I stayed stubborn for a moment longer before giving him a slight nod, "If your back starts to break, put me down!"

"I don't have any plans to put you down, sweetheart," he winked, and with that, he was carrying me to the ambulance bay where an Altima was waiting for us. One of the nurses was leaning against it. She was pretty, like a young Angelina Jolie. Her scrubs hugged every curve and jealousy pinged in my gut at how perfect she was. It turned to discomfort, though, when I saw the way she was looking at us.

There was a scowl plastered onto her face, full of judgment. Her eyes were stuck on Steve's arms around me, and if looks could kill, she'd have me dead in a second.

"Can you open the door for me, Bridget?" he asked, frustration laced in his voice from the way she was staring at us instead of helping.

"Of course, Stevie," she cooed, doing as she asked. He helped me in the back seat, going as far as to buckle the belt around me. My breath hitched as he did so, the proximity turning my cheeks bright red.

Bridget's face dropped as he slid in beside me and shut the door behind himself. She opened it right back, "What are you doing, Steve? Your spot is up front!"

"I'd rather sit back here with Y/N and make sure she's okay. Come on, we should get going. I'm sure she's ready to shower and rest."

She huffed, her anger embarrassingly evident, but she gave a slight nod and slammed the door, climbing into the driver's side and speeding off. My head was pounding, so I leaned on Steve's shoulder the whole time. Every now and then he'd shield me from the sun with his hands or run his fingers through my hair, keeping me as comfortable as he could.

Once we got to the fire station, he helped me out and we waved goodbye to Bridget. She gave me one more dirty look before leaving, and I hoped I would never see her again.

"There you are, Steve!" a voice joined into the mix, and I turned around to see a man about Steve's height with long curly hair approaching. He had a bag in his hand.

"Hey, Eddie," Steve greeted, "Thank you for covering my shift all night."

"All night and all morning. I'm assuming you won't be back after you take her home."

Steve looked bashful. It was cute, his cheeks turning red and his eyes averting downward.

"I promise I'll make it up to you, man. I just couldn't leave her, she needed me," he rushed out an explanation and I couldn't stifle my giggle.

"Yeah, sure she did. Come on, dude, I'm not mad. I needed the hours anyway and I'm not like you, I don't have a ton of beautiful women begging me to escort them to the hospital. My Friday night was all free."

"I don't have a ton of them either," Steve cried out defensively, "Just the one."

"Well then get her home before she decides she doesn't neeeeeeed you anymore," the other man, Eddie, winked then and turned to me, "Oh, by the way, I'm Eddie. Steve's best friend, confidant, life saver, shift coverer. I'm the reason he could be with you all night."

His tone was joking, so I played along, "Oh, well thank you so very much. I would've just died without him. As a matter of fact if he leaves my sight I'm sure I'll faint."

"Marry her," Eddie deadpanned, turning to Steve with the most ridiculously serious look on his face. The only response he got was an eyeroll. "Okay, whatever, get out of here. Here's the rest of your stuff, and what we managed to get out of Y/N's car. You can make the shift change up to me later." He handed Steve the bag and glanced my way, "And Y/N, I'm sure I'll be seeing you again. Until then, I'm glad you're okay."

Steve pulled his keys out of the bag, clicking them. A truck beeped across the parking lot and he wrapped his arm around me, helping me over to it.

The last we heard of Eddie was a scream over the parking lot, "Oh and Steve, put some clothes on that poor girl!"

He glanced down at my ripped up dress and blushed.

"Here," he handed me his turnout jacket, "Put this on."

I did as he asked and slipped back into his arms, allowing him to lift me into the passenger seat. I liked the way the material felt on me, warm and loose. It smelled of smoke but it also smelled of cinnamon and something muskier, all Steve.

As he pulled away, I decided to make small talk. It was a ten minute drive back to my house and I didn't want it to be awkward. Not that a single moment we'd already spent together had been. Steve had a way of making me feel like I was finally safe at home.

"Bridget and Eddie seemed nice," I commented. Obviously, I didn't mean the first part but I had a sinking feeling that Steve and Bridget were something of an item and I didn't want to upset him.

"Eddie is a great guy. We've known each other forever, and he's always had my back." He paused for a moment, "And Bridget was awful to you today. You don't have to pretend she wasn't."

"I just thought you and her were probably friends, or maybe even a thing, and I didn't want to say anything mean about her just in case," I smiled softly, apologetically.

"We're not. But she wants to be. She's a uniform chaser. She doesn't know the first thing about me other than my job."

"Do you get that a lot? Girls that are only interested in you because of what you do?"

"More often than you'd think. But it's okay. I guess it's better than not being wanted at all."

"You think if you were something else, something more boring, girls wouldn't want you?" My brows were furrowed in confusion. How could a man so wonderful have such a gaping insecurity?

"I didn't feel that way at first, but I guess I've become cynical over time."

"Well, I'm cynical with the best of them and I'm telling you that you're wrong," I started, "Don't get me wrong. The turnout gear is ruggedly sexy. Straight out of a calendar, really. But I wouldn't have wanted you to come to the hospital with me if you were any other fireman. I wanted you there because of how you made me feel. Safe, and taken care of."

Silence filled the air. I don't think he knew how to respond.

"What about you?" he finally asked, "That was a nice dress before it was ruined. You must've been on quite a date."

"I wouldn't call it that," I stared at my lap, color rising in my cheeks.

"Didn't go well?"

"It's not that, it's just... I wasn't really interested in him."

"What was wrong with him?"

"You ask a lot of questions," I breathed out a laugh, wanting a subject change. I felt shame, like if Steve found out the kind of men I date and why, he would drop me off and forget about me. I didn't want that. I craved more of him. More of his time, and his headspace. I hadn't known him long, but it's hard not to swoon over a man who spends hours of his time taking care of you.

"I'll stop. For now."

Shortly after he said that, we pulled into my driveway. He helped me out of his truck and into my house, commenting on how cute he thought everything was.

"Where's your bathroom? I'm gonna get the shower running for you," he turned to me and said.

"Oh," I blushed, "You don't have to do that. Really. I can manage to get around."

"I want to. I told you I would take care of you, and I'm not doing it halfway. Now should I go looking until I find it or are you gonna tell me where it is?"

"My room is down the hall, the bathroom is in there," I smiled shyly.

He didn't waste a second, pulling me back into him and let me lean on him the entire way there. I leaned against the sink as he looked around, taking the room in.

"A bath would probably be better than a shower. You're still weak, I don't want you to slip and hurt yourself."

I didn't respond, I just watched him as he turned the faucet on and felt the water, adjusting until the temperature was perfect.

"Thank you," I finally said as he finished up and stopped the drain.

"Of course. You gonna be able to get from the tub to the bed?" he asked me.

I giggled, nodding, "I think I'll manage."

"Okay... if you have any trouble or need anything, you're welcome to call me."

"How am I gonna do that without your number?"

His face went red, a silly smile crossing his lips, "Of course. You're right. Here."

He slipped his phone out, pulling up the screen to create a new contact and handed it to me. I quickly typed in my name and info and handed it back. He called me once, hanging up as soon as it rang, and nodded once affirmatively.

"There. Now you have mine, too."

"I'll call you, Steve."

"Yes, if you need anything at all."

"Okay."

He seemed reluctant to leave, and I was reluctant to let him, but he finally mumbled a goodbye and let himself out. I grinned into my hand, the butterflies still not settled.

I was not the kind of girl to feel things like I was feeling. I had a process, a way of getting through life, and it didn't involve getting hung up on the first handsome fireman I meet. I willed myself to come back to reality, but it was difficult. His face was stamped into my mind.

My phone pinged and I glanced down, his number filling my screen.

"I left my jacket. Can I stop by later and get it? And bring you dinner? I'd like to check on you anyway."

Any hope of coming back to reality flew out the window. I typed quickly and pressed send before I could talk myself out of it.

"It's a date."

[sea-lanterns]

Cowgirl!AU thirsts for you (and your fishies);

Cowgirl!Dehya and/or Cowgirl!Beidou both having you ride their cock/or strap. Their hands holding tightly onto your hips just to keep you steady as you plant your hands on their chest while you move your hips against them. At some point they lean up slightly to whisper in your ear with that husky southern drawl of theirs saying, "Your taking me so good, darling," before flexing their hips up inside you to push themselves inside you even deeper, leaving you gasping and quaking on top of them.

Sheriff!Jean seeking you out to relieve her stress on by bending you over her desk in the sheriff's office and rutting her cock/or strap into you repeatedly. She's slowly losing herself to her frustrations and you can tell by the way she presses your naked body more onto her desk till the wood is just digging into you. Your gonna be hurting so bad once she's done with you but she makes up for it by getting you food and water, praising and holding you and bringing you back to her place after.

Heiress!Ningguang who spoils you fucking rotten with buying you dresses, jewelry, perfume, really just about anything. She just wants to make you feel good, her little doll (as she calls you), and another way she does this is by going down on you. It's rare for her to please another woman like this, but your just so special and irresistible that she can't help but be between your legs eating you out to her hearts content. Nothing makes her heart race more than hearing the pretty sounds you make.

Final one (for now); Outlaw!Shinobu who has to be careful about seeing you considering her unsavory reputation because of the gang she's in. She'll admire you from afar, giving you notes whenever she sees you about how breathtaking you are. Then by midnight, you'll be sneaking her into your room where she'll be worshipping your body, muttering against your skin in her southern drawl about how "scandalous" it would be if people found out she was the one making you scream at night.

SINSSS AOJXJWOJDKSJANZ— 😍

THESE IDEAS ARE SO HOT OHMYGOD—

I have no words. I just want to be their plaything and ride these cowgirls like a horse, holding onto the reins (their shoulders or their neck) and just letting them bounce you up and down while you whine and take all their thrusts…

My favorite ideas are Sherif! Jean and Outlaw! Shinobu since I just know they’d look mouthwateringly hot in cowboy attire 🥵

[rosieofcorona]

Ortolan

Angels, darlings, besties, I present to you the most evil thing I’ve ever written. The first chapter of a little gothic story about our favorite vampire ascendant and his beloved consort. Named, of course, after the bird that is born and bred to be eaten whole. Horror ensues. Also on AO3, if you prefer. Thank you for reading!

All her life Tav had lived in the palm of the palace’s shadow, its black spire-fingers stretching and reaching into the corners of the city when the sun dipped low. She had never known then how it held her, that distant, haunted thing, had never thought its eyes might watch her when she wasn’t watching back.

She watches everything now.

From its high balconies, she can see all of the Gate spread out below. The streets, the shops, the city center, the painted roofs and cobbled roadways— all in miniature from here, like little playthings from her childhood. The people move like dolls beneath her, in and out of the castle’s black hand, and on the days time seems to dilate in a widening, infinite loop, she thinks she sees herself among them, walking freely in the sun. 

She could make the lower city in an hour, if she hurried. 

It’s not so far, she thinks. Just far removed.  

Half a league and a lifetime away.

*****

Where Tav feels out of place in their new home, Astarion thrives. 

He stalks the halls with newfound confidence, cold command in every step, making note of things he’ll have their servants change. He seems to know the place inherently, every floorboard, every stone, while Tav gets lost with alarming frequency by comparison. 

She only explores at Astarion’s urging– Until it feels like home, my darling – but the halls are narrow and labyrinthine, stairways twisting into darkness, secret passages that lead nowhere or loop back to where she started. When learning the layout seems impossible and makes her feel like a rat in a maze, Astarion reminds her that all the prior spawn, including himself, had done it. 

Even an animal, she wants to say, can learn its way around a trap.

It’s not all awful, she supposes. She loves the libraries and the moon garden, with its fragrant phlox and foxgloves, and the oratory, too, when she gets brave enough to enter (Astarion promises more than once that she will not burst into flames). 

In fact most of the rooms, when she discovers them, are beautiful, pristine save for a gauzy shroud of dust left over centuries. Others have fallen to neglect, or to irrelevance. There is no need now for the garderobe, the vanity, the ice house, for the dovecote where no living birds remain. 

She finds the kitchen and the larder and the buttery standing useless– though the rats, if they could speak, might disagree. They’re busy gnawing at the stock of moldy scraps still in the pantry, hardly minding her approach until she’s on them. 

Her eyes track them as they scatter, like a hunter, like a predator. An instinct she’s developed since her death.

She is stronger, swifter, sharper– as Astarion had promised– but there is violence softly shimmering beneath. She wants to tear at something, always, wants to follow something home. She wants to bite down hard enough to make her jaw ache.

She never tells him out of fear he will encourage it. 

Tav dreads the day she knows is coming, the day he’ll send her out to hunt. He loves her bloodlust when he feeds her– Such an eager little thing– and keeps her hungry to incentivize her finding her own victims. 

But a rat is not a victim, says her instinct. 

She follows one into the back half of the kitchen past the storerooms, to a passage she has never seen before. The rodent slips beneath a door that hangs half-rotten on its hinges, as if no one has been through it in a century. It is unlikely, it occurs to her, that even Astarion knows it exists.

The door creaks open with her touch, the air beyond it thick with odor– wine and earth and slow decay, with something coppery beneath. She pricks her ears toward the sound of little claws upon the stonework, of a heartbeat in the dark that’s not her own. 

The rat has vanished out of sight, but it’s no matter. She can trace it by its movements, by its scent. As she creeps farther down the passage, the metallic scent gets clearer– copper, yes, but also parchment, like the binding of a book. Hints of mushroom, hints of honey, hints of soil, mold, and… rat blood .

The realization feeds her drive and her disgust in equal measure. Turn around , she tells herself. Let the poor thing go . 

But she moves on as if compelled, down one long staircase then another, winding deep beneath the palace where it’s damp and dark and cold. At the bottom she stops to listen, stops to take a deep breath in. 

There is a foulness deep below– the unmistakable scent of death– and still, the rat blood, like a top note, rises over the decay.

She hurries blindly into the blackness, her feet following her nose until she loses track of how many times she pivots and pivots back. They move underground until the air gets moist, the stone floor slick beneath them. Her own feet stick each time she pulls them up, as if walking through mud, or through gore. 

We must be deep beneath the earth, she thinks, for it to be so wet. 

The creature ahead of her stops suddenly, its breath heavy and exhausted, running one way then another, side to side. Dead-ended by a wall, no doubt. It finds no way ahead.

She can make out the trembling shape of it, her eyes black with lack of light, and then another shape between them, and another, and another. They look like piles of festered meat left in a storeroom, long-forgotten, and for a moment she believes that’s where she is.

Tav takes a step around a pile and something crunches beneath her heel. A bone, or shard of bone, she notes, the flesh long-rotted off the marrow. Another step, another crunch, a skittering sound like a stone being kicked. 

She kneels to touch the little object, to bring it closer to her face. Another shard, it seems, an animal tooth, the one end needle-sharp and hollow…

The realization swells and hits her like a wave. 

Her single-mindedness is banished as she looks around the room, no, not a room, a crypt– the crypt!– where Cazador locked all of his spawn before the ritual. Whatever is left of them coats the floor, their blood, their hair, their shattered teeth, and Tav can smell it now, their stench, beneath the rat that she’s all but forgotten. 

Her own voice screams above the instinct. I should not be here.  

She turns and runs in the direction she came from, at least, the direction she thinks she came from– and should she turn left here, or right? There should be stairs, where are the stairs, where are the stairs? 

She runs until she can run no more, until she corners herself in a corridor, caught between the way she came and a bolted door. She tries to stop herself from shaking, not from cold or damp, but terror, the idea she might be left in here until she is nothing but rot. 

But what she has learned from getting lost is that he will find her. 

She’s never asked him how he does it. She isn’t sure she wants to know. 

He always does, she reassures herself. I only need to wait. 

She doesn’t know how long she huddles there in the bleak and soundless gloom, doesn’t know how long she listens for his footfall. 

At last a voice slips through the darkness. A pale hand reaches for her own.

“You’ve wandered far this time, my darling. I could hardly trace your scent.”  

A horror scurries down her spine like little claws upon the floor. That’s how I tracked it when it ran, she shivers. Parchment, mushroom, honey.  

It’s how he finds her now, no matter where she runs.  ***** It is hours later when she asks him, with his blood still on her lips, how it feels to wring the life out of a creature, drop by drop. 

“You ought to know,” he answers absently, completely unperturbed. He is preoccupied, deciding on the perfect place to bite her, fingers tracing every vein beneath her skin. “You’ve killed a thousand times, my love, have you forgotten?”

“That was different. Not for blood.”

“No, gods forbid,” Astarion laughs. “Most times for gold.” 

She feels annoyance, like a spider, creeping up the back of her neck. “Do I hear judgment?” “Certainly not.” He makes a show of looking scandalized, a hand fluttering over his heart. “I’d never begrudge you a little violence, you know that.” 

As he moves further down the bed his touch trails with him, hands and mouth mapping a blue line down her body, along her breast and hip and thigh. He settles there and moves her legs apart so he can kneel between them, makes her shiver in familiar delight.

She wants to lose them in this moment, those poor creatures in the crypt, wants to put them from her mind for now and always. But with every touch she feels Astarion’s hunger, still unsated; with every kiss, she feels the sharpness of his teeth.

Like animal teeth, she thinks. Like theirs, like mine.  

“But do they suffer? When you drain them?”

Astarion sighs like rustled velvet, looking up at her from his knees.

“Such a soft heart, still,” he murmurs. “Did you suffer, my beloved?”

How easily, how often she forgets that he has killed her.

If there was suffering she can’t recall it now, no matter how she tries. The memory’s far off in the distance, formless, fogged by ambiguity. If she moved toward it, maybe she could make out certain details…

But his tongue is on her now, and she welcomes the distraction. It is unpleasant, after all, to relive dying. He drags it slowly over the soft flesh of her thigh above the artery until she hums a little sound of satisfaction. 

“Would you like to?” He asks, in that same, soft voice. His eyeteeth shine like pearls in the rising moonlight.

“Please,” she whispers. It is all the urging he needs. 

She cries out at the breaking of her skin, the rush of blood into his mouth. The feeding has always been pleasurable, even when she was alive, but it is heightened now that they are bound together. She can feel him from the inside now, coursing through his body, she can fill him and fulfill him with blood alone. “More,” she pleads, when he pulls away to look at her. Already he is bright with her blood. “Astarion, more.”

If this is suffering, she wants it– every evening, every hour– until whatever light still shines in her eyes goes out.  ***** In her dreams she finds her way back to the black mouth of the crypt, its iron gates swung wide on their hinges as if to swallow her entirely. She’s running frightened, like a rabbit , like a rat from something watching, someone whispering her name into the dark.

[theodora3022]

Shiny New Toy

Summary: Madame Sandrone has taken a special interest in you, while cleaning up her deceased colleague's belongings.

A/N: A Spontaneous little drabble I wrote after seeing this concept...Have never tried writing female Yandere before, hope this does not suck :(

Courtesy to @deceitful-darlings for letting me use this concept!

Content warnings: Content warnings: OOC (character is not shown in game yet, I HC her to be from Fontaine, IF YOU DO NOT LIKE THIS HC Please do not click read more), threats of violence, bodily harm, mentions unethical experiment, gender neutral reader but reader is implied to be non-human (adepti/youkai) 

Signora, the fair lady, Rosalyne, is dead at the electro archon’s hands. You were even allowed to bid her goodbye at her coffin before the ceremony, not that you have any other choice. 

You are not sure what to make of this information for a few days. 

At first, what’s left of your hopes made you believe you have a chance out of this prison now that your captor passed away.

What you failed to account for is how you are counted amongst Signora’s possessions. For the Fatui, possession of the deceased needs a new owner. 

“Normally, I have better things to do than cleaning after a dead colleague. But I volunteered for this, as I know the witch must have some collection worth looking at after so many years of life.” 

“What a surprise I got indeed.” The petite girl tilted her head and blinked curiously, as if some new shiny toy caught her attention. “Not even I know she loves playthings of your kind.”

You wanted to open your mouth to protest, but decided to swallow the words at the end.  Isn't that what you are to Signora? 

Despite her delicate doll-like appearance, the frilly dress,and light chestnut strands that hands down her shoulders loosely, this is a Fatui Harbinger you are dealing with here. 

“Hmmm, what shall I do with you?” Seeing the girl crossing her gloved fingers, thinking, you know what you need to do. It is risky, but better now than after she comes up with some sick games to play with you. 

“Would you let me go? She’s dead and I am of no use to the Fatui.” Those “brave” words only made her narrow her eyes, all you got is a light tap on the head.

If this is Signora, she would have slapped your face so hard that it leaves marks, and your lunch will be canceled, at the very least. 

But this Harbinger’s nonchalant attitude unsettles you even more. 

“It is Madame Sandrone to you, remember that nice and clear. I do not tolerate such inappropriate behavior.” Sandrone pouts while crossing her arms, a gesture that could be seen as “cute” if she is not making you kneel under her Mary Jane heels. 

“Have some respect for Lady Harbinger, I think you need some p-”

“Enough, Éliott. Go join the scavenger crew for Signora’s treasures. You are no longer needed here.” The man exited the chamber without another word, seemingly while making futile attempts at controlling his shivers.

“Close the door on your way out. Now, where were we?” Descending from her large mechanical device, Sandrone starts to take steps in your direction, with her skirt in hand. 

How her heels tap on the ground while walking towards you, sounds like the beginning of the end. Signora already said there is no sane soul amongst the Harbingers, no matter how harmless they might seem. You cannot figure out where Sandrone's loose screws are, not that you want to either.  

Being looked down by a small girl is surely a strange experience, after all, you got used to Signora towering over you. Forcing you look her in the eyes, Sandrone lifted your chin.  

The way that she caresses your cheek is just plain disturbing. What’s worse is although she is smiling a lot ,it never quite reach her blue eyes. “What a pretty thing. This whole ordeal is not a waste of time after all. How else might I get my hands on the centerpiece of Signora’s collection?”

“I will be your mistress from now on. What material for the collar would you like?  As for leaving…lose that delusional mindset, clearly Signora has not trained you adequately. ”  

Letting go of your chin, Sandrone suddenly bends down to grab your wrist, forcing you to let out a hiss of pain. Worse, she seemed to be displeased with your reaction. 

You could never assume from her looks alone, how such a dainty doll-like girl could have absurdly strong grip strength. 

“To those like me who tinker with experiments, you are like a walking treasury of rare, special materials. Do your best to behave, or you might just become part of my spontaneous projects. When I say part, I mean it. Understood?”

"Or I can give you to another of my cher colleague, I know he would LOVE to have you."

“...Yes, Madame Sandrone.” You try to lower your head, so as not to let her see lights fading away in your eyes. 

Lights pats land on your head, the same ones given to domestic animals. “Good, now come along, Chéri, don’t make me waste more of my precious time.”

No curse words, no hitting, yet Sandrone's polite words, dripped in sweet honey still managed to make you fear for your future.

[themistressdomme]

Limits are only piss/scat anything else have free reign

🪿

Okay, thank you for telling me, my little goose! 🥰

So you just want to be used by me, hm?

You can be my sweet little plaything. I'll make you stand in the middle of the room whilst I slowly circle you, my footsteps the only thing echoing. Featherlight trail of my touch, a single index finger tracing over your body, leaving goosebumps in its path, hm?

Maybe I'll sit you down in a chair, continue circling you with light touches here, a teasing touch there. Wrap my hand loosely around your pretty neck while I admire it. Maybe I'll be tempted to leave a mark, hm? Tickle your neck with my teeth before I bite down softly and suck? Such a pretty mark I made on you, love.

Maybe I'd stand behind you, reaching down to play with you. Will you be needy for me, doll? Will you drip for me in anticipation? I'll check, and -

Oh, look at that. My needy little thing is just a drippy mess.

I'd take a seat on the bed and make you come to me. You'd comply like a good little plaything, wouldn't you, darling? Come, straddle my lap. Let me mark your throat and your chest some more. Will your hips start moving on their own accord? Start grinding pathetically against my leg so you can get some relief?

Maybe I'll stop your hips with rough hands, giving you a stern look for grinding without permission. Or, maybe I'd hold your hips and guide you, letting you grind harder and faster against me like the desperate slut you are, hm?

Oh, so many ways to tease you and make you a poor little mess.

Maybe I'd even give you my fingers to ride, doll. How many do you think you can fit? Maybe I ought to stretch you out. Start easy, before I have three fingers, making you ride them? I'm not going to pump my fingers, sweet thing, so you'd best move your hips and show me how desperate you are to cum for me.

Maybe after, I'd pull my fingers out of your dripping center - I bet they'd be glistening, hm? "Clean them off for me, pretty thing. Show me how good that mouth of yours works."

🪿

Do you have any petnames that you like to be called, darling? And how do you feel about "good girl"? I know you use she/they pronouns 🥰 And please let me know if something doesn't sit right with you, okay? I don't have a list of your kinks that I can go off on, so I'm dabbling in a little bit of everything xx

[marvelmaniac715]

It’s day 21 of my virtual Chucky advent calendar! Only three days left, and I can’t wait for everyone to see day 24! Today Chucky is a doll (one of the fragments created at the end of Chucky Season One) and he’s found himself being given as a present to a child on Christmas Day.

————————————————————

His orders had been to infiltrate a home and lay low. But no matter how many times he was shoved inside a box, it never got any less dark or claustrophobic. The sound of ripping paper invaded his eardrums as a sudden blast of light gave him a head-splitting migraine. 

When he’d recovered from his sensory overload, he was face to face with a beaming girl of about nine. Her curly blonde hair was styled into ringlets on either side of her head, and her crystal blue eyes shone with pure joy. A blindingly white smile reached each rosy pink cheek, and her glance towards her parents was angelically thankful.

You couldn’t blame Chucky for seeing this child as an angel at first, she looked like the picture perfect little girl. Their house was large and clearly expensive, there was a glass chandelier hanging from the ceiling and the girl was surrounded by a mound of toys. A large fire was burning in the corner. This place felt like heaven.

But as soon as the child pulled him out of the box, he realised that this wasn’t heaven, it was hell. 

First it was the pony rides, where he was jogged up and down until he felt sick. Then the girl tried to sit on him, and all of the non-existent air left his lungs. Then she carried him up to her room by the arm, bashing him hard against the wall with each step. 

She’d gotten a new set of markers from Santa. So obviously, that meant a makeover. Chucky had never felt so degraded. A better man would reflect upon his actions and weep for his victims, vowing to wrong any possible rights. But Chucky was no better man. Instead he silently bemoaned his fate as a roughly handled plaything.

She was about to give him some ‘mascara’, but she aimed poorly. With one quick poke, his left eye was completely gone. Ugh, he could feel it rattling around inside his skull, and half of his vision was pitch black. He nearly broke then, he nearly screamed. But this child was a tyrant even before she knew he was sentient, what would she do if she found out?

The girl screeched and threw him to the floor. If he had been human, that landing would have either snapped his neck or given him a bad concussion. Instead, he just bumped his head really hard and wheezed a little, as quietly as possible. 

He was blessed with silence and peace for a few hours, then the girl and her mother came up to change into their pyjamas before going down to watch a Christmas movie. The girl had just ran out into the hallway when her mother spotted him in a heap in the corner.

“Oh, Sephy- Persephone dear, I know you’re excited to have so many new toys, and it is Christmas, but you must clean up after yourself my darling.”

The yell that the girl- Persephone apparently-sent back was flippant and bored.

“Mommy, his eye’s all messed up, I don’t wanna play with him no more.”

The woman sighed and picked him up, only to let out a little gasp when she saw his face. Quickly making up her mind, she threw open the lid of a large chest and dropped Chucky inside, discarding him with casual disdain as one would a piece of dog shit at the bottom of their shoe, shutting the lid with a loud thump.

As the family enjoyed a Christmas movie on their couch, Chucky wailed and writhed from inside the dark, dusty, cobweb infested toy box.

[mypoisonedvine]

𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭-𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐞 || helmut zemo, bucky barnes and sam wilson x reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : your sugar daddy boyfriend is finally out of prison and he brought a few friends to show you off to.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : just over 4k

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : smut (foursome/group sex, oral m receiving, spitroast; sliiiight dubcon???), established zemo x reader, sugar daddy relationship, ‘sir’ kink, ‘daddy’ kink, pussy spanking, one regular spank, orgasm control, overstimulation, creampie, a bit of cockwarming, exhibitionism, possessiveness (kinda? but also not at all lmao it’s hard to explain), a bit of degradation but plenty of praise as well, subtle cuckolding but without the usual power dynamics there, shitty reconstructed “sokovian” (I wrote it in the latin alphabet but the cyrillic and translations are at the end), unexpected and unnecessary fluff, very subtle angst (basically all in a flashback anyways)

                  You were needlessly anxious as you waited for him to arrive.  It had been your own idea to wait in the jet, and yet you spent every other second glancing out the tiny window, desperate for a glance of the man you missed so dearly.

If someone had told you all those years ago, when this arrangement first began, how easily he would have you wrapped around his finger… you couldn’t have believed them.  It’s just about the money, you would’ve told them, but you would’ve been impossibly wrong.

For a lot of women in this sort of situation, it really was just about the money; likewise, for a lot of men in his situation, it was just about the sex.  But the two of you had something entirely unique, nearly indescribable in fact, that very few could ever understand.  In the beginning it became clear to you that he was more in need of a companion than a lover or girlfriend, specifically.  He was still grieving his wife, still devoted to her completely, but lonely right to his core… angry, even, at the prospect of a life without his family.  You were a shoulder to cry on, first and foremost.

You thought maybe he enjoyed spending money on you because it was his way to protect you, in a way he felt he had failed to protect his family before.

And it was you that fell for him first, for his passion and his kindness before his riches or looks.  Just when you feared that he’d only ever see you as a status symbol or dress-up doll, he returned your affections in spite of his guilt at first and the two of you were inseparable ever since.

Except, of course, when you were separated, and he was imprisoned, and you were left on your own again.  Not that spending his money wasn’t fun or anything, but his loneliness was more sympathetic with each night you spent in that massive bed by yourself, wanting just to feel the warmth of him beside you again.

So, it should be understandable why you were so on edge in anticipation of his arrival.  Your painted fingernails toyed with the hem of the dress you remembered he liked on you most— the silk one that barely covered your legs and was only held up by absurdly thin straps crossing at your back.

The night he bought it for you was clear in your mind like it was only yesterday; his voice in your ear telling you how he couldn’t resist taking such a thoughtful, intelligent woman like yourself and dressing you up like a mindless drolja… or ‘slut’ as it might be said in English.  Just remembering the way he said things like that sent a shiver down your spine as strong as really hearing it, your thighs clenching together on top of the plush leather seat.

Just as you thought you might go crazy waiting for him, you saw the car pull up— your Helmut at the wheel and his two associates in tow— and your heart soared.

Longer than all the years apart combined was the minute you spent waiting to descend the jet’s staircase, hoping to meet him on the taxiway at the exact right moment.  You made sure the jewelry around your wrists and neck was laying just right before finally making your appearance.

The way he looked up at you as you started to walk down towards him… it wasn’t so different from the way he’d looked at you through the glass for the past few years, really, but it felt different.  He certainly looked different to you, without the prisoner’s uniform and looking rather imposing with that massive coat instead.

You were careful to still walk slowly, since you were wearing stilettos and all, even when you wanted more than anything to run to him and jump into his arms.  Instead, you came face to face with him, loving that confident smirk which never seemed to leave his expression, and slipped your arms around his fur-adorned neck.

“Dobrodošla nazad, ljubavi,” you hummed, pressing your lips to his and almost letting out a squeal of surprise when he immediately slipped his tongue into your mouth, kissing you aggressively as his gloved hands gripped you at the waist.

He was rarely so bold, but then again he had been alone in prison for so long with only your words to try to satisfy him.  As much as you cherished being in his arms again, you also got the impression that this wasn’t just about making up for lost time— if that were true, he would’ve skipped the kiss entirely and taken you in the back of his car the moment he saw you.  No, this was a show of dominance, and not only for your benefit; that was clear when one of the men with him cleared his throat loudly and Helmut still didn’t stop.  

But that was very much like him: he was never finished with you until he was satisfied, and not a moment sooner.  His power over you was so effortless because you didn’t mind at all being his plaything… so much so that it was you leaning in for more when he pulled back, making him laugh softly.

“Did you miss me, lutka?” he purred, and you nodded as you bit your lip slightly.

“Always, Helmut,” you nodded, finally taking a moment to look away from him and at the visibly uncomfortable men at his side.  “I heard you freed him,” you said to the man you knew to be James Barnes, “thank you.”

“I’m still not over that,” the other— Sam, as you’d heard— added with a scoff.

“Come on, darling, let’s board the jet and we can talk there,” Helmut suggested, and you nodded as you turned to let them follow.

Of course, you couldn’t be totally sure, but you were pretty confident you could feel three pairs of eyes on your ass as you climbed the stairs.  Honestly, with how short the dress was, there was a risk of your thong being exposed as well, exactly the sort of almost-subtle teasing your Baron loved the most.

Once inside, Helmut showed James and Sam to their seats, and took his own as he instantly pulled you into his lap.  You caught the other two men glancing to the empty fourth seat, knowing there was plenty of room for you two to stay apart, but could they really blame you after how long you’d been alone?

Throughout the takeoff, one of his strong hands rested comfortably on your crossed legs as the other held his glass of champagne, and Sam’s gaze was attached to the way his thumb gently stroked your thigh while James seemed to be doing his best to look literally anywhere else.

“I noticed you haven’t introduced us to your… friend…” Sam trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Oh, yes,” Helmut chuckled as if he actually forgot, “this is the woman who has been managing my estate in my unfortunate absence.”

“You’re trying to tell us this is your accountant?” James grumbled.

“She’s also my lover,” Helmut relented.

“Obviously,” Sam replied, unamused.

“She’s beautiful, no?” Helmut prompted as he ran his fingertips higher up your thigh, only glancing at the other men as he focused mainly on nuzzling against your neck. 

“Yeah, the finest money can buy,” Sam quipped, earning a cold glare from you and your man.  

“Are you with me for my money, draga?” Helmut asked you quietly as he planted a gentle kiss to the spot right where your neck met your shoulder.  You smiled and shook your head, staring right at Sam’s nervous expression.

“No, sir,” you answered aloud, and the title clearly made both of the other men uncomfortable… if, perhaps, in different ways.

“Uncross your legs,” he demanded, though his tone was still soft, and you obeyed right away as he started to lightly move his touch between your thighs.

James began adjusting in his seat and never really stopped, tugging at his jeans in an obvious attempt to conceal the growing bulge between his legs, but you only laughed at his clear embarrassment.

“See how respectful she is?” he cooed his praise, addressing the other men but keeping his eyes on you.  “I know exactly the words to make her obey to my every whim… James, you and her share that quality.”

The man sneered as you suppressed a giggle, squirming in Helmut’s lap impatiently.

“She’s loyal, too, unendingly dedicated,” he continued.  “You know she visited me weekly in Munich, at the very least?  Always by my side… like any good pet.”

A whimper escaped your throat at that term, your gut burning with need as he balanced praise and degradation effortlessly.  You didn’t find it truly demeaning only because you loved being his plaything so much, and because you knew mutual respect was at the core of your relationship with him.  But, still, it was nice to feel small when he was there to keep you safe.

James watched with a small snarl and Helmut slipped his hand into your panties, and Sam licked his lips but shifted his stare to your face instead, just as your eyes started to roll back and your head fell weakly on Helmut’s shoulder.

“And such a precious little pussy as well,” he added darkly, giving you a spank between your legs to make you choke on a squeal.  “Sweet, delicate… much like a Turkish delight, but even more addictive.”

“Please, sir,” you whispered under your breath.

“You want more, don’t you?  Tako očajno…” he chuckled.  You nodded, already starting to soak through the lace and rock your hips.  “You want to be fucked, yes?”

“Yes,” you moaned.

“Be polite and take care of our guests first, draga,” he encouraged, kissing your neck one more time before releasing you from his embrace.

Although you were most interested in being with the man you loved, you were happy to obey whatever he wished— and, frankly, sinking to your knees on the jet’s carpeted floor to crawl towards James wasn’t exactly lacking in its own appeal.

James’ eyes narrowed as Sam’s widened, and you sat up between the spread, denim-clad thighs as you blinked up at him and licked your lips.

He tensed up slightly as your hands delicately slid up his legs, his Adam's apple bobbing with a dry swallow when you grabbed his belt buckle and began to open it.

“You… you don’t have to…” he mumbled, apparently too distracted to finish his sentence.

“Yes I do,” you denied.  “Because he told me to.”

Sam winced and looked away as you unzipped James’ fly and pulled his jeans and boxers down to expose his cock, already hard and leaking a bit from the tip.  You smiled proudly, but chose not to tease him for his eagerness and instead just get right to work; you gripped him at the base and gave a few kitten licks over his shaft, savoring the taste of his precum and looking up at his expression that was equal parts shocked and sultry.

You only spent a moment suckling on the head before skipping right ahead and deepthroating him all the way to base.

“Oh, fuck,” James choked, reaching up grab the seat behind his head as his back arched, making you want to smile though you thankfully kept it down.

“Well-trained, isn’t she?” Helmut interjected proudly.

“Y-yeah,” he answered, his other hand grabbing your shoulder tightly as you began to bob your head.

Occasionally, in your peripheral, you caught Sam looking, and it made you wiggle your hips with the desire to rub your throbbing clit against the floor.  

You got a chance to breathe whenever you pulled back to suck the head and stroke the rest with your hand, and in a few minutes you had already found all the little spots that made him moan the loudest, or made his legs quiver a bit by your sides.

“Stop,” Helmut instructed, and you were already starting to pull off when James hissed and grabbed your head to hold you down.

“N-no, please,” he blurted out.

“She’ll come back to you but Sam is looking rather lonely in the corner over there,” Helmut explained, and James hesitated but let you go.  You wiped your lips and started to move towards Sam, but he shook his head.

“I don’t roll like that, man,” Sam explained, “I don’t want her doing it just because you said so.”

“Darling, won’t you tell us how badly you want to service your new friends?” Helmut challenged, and you swallowed nervously because you were a bit embarrassed to say too much and potentially anger him.  But the sparkle in his eyes didn’t seem like he was leading you into a trap… even if the other two men were confident that was what it meant.  “You find them attractive, don’t you?”

“Um, yes, sir,” you answered hesitantly, “I… saw them, and I wanted to know what their cocks looked like.  And tasted like.”

Helmut smiled and leaned forward, giving you a spank of approval through your dress (which was riding up to show most of your butt anyways).

You looked at Sam expectantly.  “May I please suck your cock, Mr. Wilson?”

His eyes darkened and you knew you were on the right track.  “What happened to ‘sir’?” he asked coyly.

“I only call Helmut ‘sir,’” you explained, “but I could call you something else.”

His finger curled to encourage you to come closer and you crawled up to sit between his legs.

“Call me ‘daddy,’” he finally instructed, opening his belt and pants for you.

“Yes, daddy,” you nodded, keeping your mouth slack for him to push his cock into.  You hummed as the head slid over your tongue, looking up at him as he bit his lip and thrust back into your throat.

“Shit, that’s good,” he whispered, guiding your head at the speed he wanted.  “Who taught you how to suck cock so good, baby?”

Helmut raised his hand and James snorted.

Sam was a bit longer but he was still no challenge to swallow all the way down, and you heard him breathing through his teeth but let your eyes fall shut to focus on your work.

“Is this… how you treat all your guests?” Sam asked tensely between heavy breaths.

“Only those who are at the right place at the right time,” Helmut answered cryptically, but you happened to know this sort of occasion was incredibly rare.  Although it might seem counterintuitive to some, this was his way to re-stake his claim over you, and after so much time apart apparently he felt he had a lot to prove.  “Keep going, but don’t let him come,” another instruction echoed from behind you.  

You pulled back to stroke Sam’s length while you croaked: “yes, sir.”

Helmut had you go back and forth for a while, keeping both men on edge and occasionally allowing you to stroke one while you sucked the other, your own need growing so quickly as you dreamed to have something inside you, anything really.

Obviously, he knew exactly how much having a cock down your throat made you wet and desperate.  And he knew that such a taboo act of, in a certain sense, breaking fidelity with a man as he not only watched but commanded you to do it would get you right on the edge in no time.

He had gotten in your head so quickly after meeting you, memorized everything that made you tick, and not once had he forgotten.  

“I-I’m close,” James warned as you sucked his head, making you slide the tip of your tongue over his slit before you took a break to suck his swollen balls into your mouth.  “Fuck, can I come?”

“Not yet,” Helmut instructed sternly.

You felt him tug you back and into his lap suddenly, and he quickly yanked your dress down to expose your breasts to the men in front of you.

“Her tits are hard, no?” Helmut prompted them, and you watched them both nod as a warm hand reached around from behind you to tweak your hardened nipples.  “Yes, she really loves to get on her knees and choke on cock.  I’d let her do the same to me but I have greater plans for her…”

As if it weren’t obvious what those plans were, he pulled your skirt up to your waist as well, spreading your legs and pulling your flimsy panties aside.  

“Is she wet?” he asked the men and they nodded again.

“Drenched,” Sam chimed in.

Helmut gave another spank to your clit as you shuddered, then rubbing slowly as if to soothe the sting.  “I’ll teach you what happens when you get wet for another man, little girl,” Helmut growled against your ear, “not to mention two.  And they’re Americans, do you have no shame?”

“I’m sorry, sir,” you whispered.

“No, you have nothing to be sorry for,” he corrected.  “I love seeing you act like a whore all for me.”

You hadn’t even realized he’d taken his cock out of his trousers until you felt the thick tip of him prodding at your entrance.  It was already a lot just by itself, but then you had these strangers staring at you and for some reason it only turned you on more.

That ‘some’ reason of course being that you loved your Baron taking ownership over you for anyone to see.  Clearly, prison had given him much more creative ideas than just fucking on a balcony or against the glass of a window.  

“Are you ready for me?” he asked in a hushed voice against your skin which seemed to be burning hot all of a sudden.  

“Yes, sir,” you whispered.

It took a lot not to cry out as he pulled you down and filled you in one deep stroke, your nails digging into the leather of the chair’s armrests at either side.  But more than the sting of pain it felt so perfect, so fundamentally right, and just after your gasp of shock was a sigh of relief.

He sighed along with you and let his forehead fall between your shoulder blades, clearly a bit overwhelmed at being inside you again for the first time in so long.  “Draga...” he breathed, “not that I ever doubted… but you must have been faithful to me; you’re so tight, I know no one has touched you since I left.”

“Only you, sir, nobody but you,” you agreed breathlessly, eyes falling shut.  

He kissed your back as he started to move your body on top of his, the hands at your waist tightening and tugging on the remaining fabric of your dress.  “Tako dobro,” he hissed, “you feel so good, darling, you can’t imagine how long I spent dreaming of being inside you again.”

A tear rolled down your cheek, and it would be impossible to say for sure what caused it— a little bit of everything, really.  

Opening your eyes and noticing the way they were staring at you, you leaned forward and took each of the other men’s hard cocks in your hands, stroking in time with the way you bounced your hips on top of Helmut’s.

The both of them had been on the edge for a bit too long, Sam already biting his lip as James thrust himself up into your palm.

“Fuck, please,” James moaned, “I need to come in your mouth.”

“Come closer then,” you breathed, watching him stand up and bring his cock right to your lips which you eagerly gagged on, any pretense long gone as you sloppily sucked and stroked while Helmut thrust up to slam into you.

“Ohh, fuck, that’s it— gonna come,” he grunted as he reached up to press his hand against the ceiling of the jet, and it all must have hit him rather unexpectedly since the moment his musky taste began to coat your tongue, you heard a clanging sound and realized he had pushed up so hard that he bent the steel interior, his other hand tightening into a fist in your hair.

You moaned happily as you swallowed every drop, still sucking even as James’ moans became loud and higher in pitch.

“Fuck, don’t stop, oh god,” he whined, cock throbbing even after he stopped filling your throat with come.  You reached between his legs and squeezed his balls a bit and you could tell his knees nearly buckled, causing him to finally pull back and tilt your chin up to stare down at you.  “You’re somethin’ else,” he panted, taking a moment to catch his breath before falling back and slumping into his chair.

You looked over at Sam and saw his hand was still lazily guiding yours to stroke over his cock although come already painted his abs and dripped down from his swollen head over your fingers.  “Can I clean up your mess, please, daddy?” you asked, voice a bit hoarse though you couldn’t be sure if that was from the deepthroating or just how hard Helmut was fucking you now.

Pulling your hand back, Sam’s eyes followed as you lapped the thick, hot come from your hand, moaning openly at the taste.  You sucked your fingers down into your throat, not leaving a drop behind.

He leaned back in his chair and began to catch his breath, both of them now staring at you with that exhausted, glazed-over expression.  They looked satisfied, and you considered it your reward for a job well done.

"A belly full of come and a pussy full of my cock, you must be feeling ecstatic," Helmut presumed.

"Yes, sir," you agreed quickly.

All at once he began to fuck you faster, harder, deeper which you hadn't even realized was an option.  He growled a string of the filthiest curses in your ear, in Sokovian so the other men wouldn’t understand, with one hand wrapped around your neck as the other pinched your clit almost too roughly.  Even in your native language you could barely understand it: how could you when he was so deep inside you?

“Will you come, draga?” he finally asked, voice rough with his own desperation.

“Not until you let me, sir,” you moaned, and he chuckled a bit.

“Good girl.”

But wow, the way he rubbed your clit was impossible to ignore, like he was trying to make your promise impossible to keep.  You tightened your jaw, moaning through your teeth now as you fought to keep your orgasm at bay.  

“Please sir, I need to come, please— so close, I’m so close,” you mewled.

“I won’t be much longer, either,” he warned.  "Too long without you has taken its toll, I need to finish."

“Inside me, sir, please,” you begged, “come inside me.”

You felt him nod against the back of your neck.  “Come for me,” he instructed simply, and as obedient as ever, you felt your walls pulsing as pleasure overtook you.  Not even meaning to, you threw your head back, and he had to hold you tightly to keep you from shaking too violently as the waves of sensation washed over you.

The heat of him spilling inside you warmed you from the inside out, making you smile happily through the fog of your high and intentionally tighten your walls around him.  He hissed and throbbed within you, his fingers digging into your hips now as he held you down against him.

He gave a few more lazy thrusts until finally slowing to a stop, both of you catching your breath eventually.

"My... accountant will be keeping my cock warm for the remainder of the flight," Helmut informed the other men, "I hope you don't mind?

"No, no, go ahead," James approved as his head fell back against his chair.

It was still quite a ways to your final destination so it wasn't much of a surprise that you ended up falling asleep in the Baron's arms, something you used to do every night that had been only a dream for years.  Perhaps this afternoon wasn't the reunion you expected, but it was somehow even more perfect than you could've ever wished for.

///

dobrodošla nazad, ljubavi = добродошла назад, љубави = “welcome home, love”

lutka = лутка = “doll”

draga = драга = “dear/beloved”

tako očajno = тако очајно = "so desperate"

tako dobro = тако добро = "so good"

[wh0reyp0tter]

hi lovely just to wanted to ask for a dom lily evans smut with female reader pls 💞🥰

Little Plaything L.E

Lily Evans x fem!reader

Includes: dom!Lily, slapping, pain kink, degradation, wlw, strap-on, mommy kink, pet names, dom/sub dynamic, and pure smut 

_______________________________________________________________ 

I let out a soft whimper as Lily smirks down at me, her long red hair falling past her face. I tug at the silk ties holding my wrists against the headboard. “Now, now, princess, be a good little whore for me,” she hums. I feel her tug my panties down my legs before throwing them across the room. I watch Lily bite her lip as one of her fingers drag between my folds before shoving it into my mouth. “See how sweet you taste? Just like candy, huh?” I nod silently as she pulls her finger away from me. She pushes the digit back inside of me before curling slightly. I let out a moan as my hips push of the bed.  

“Lils,” I whine. I hear Lily laugh as she grips my jaw tight and forces me to look into her eyes. 

“That’s not what you call me, is it darling?” She taunts. I shake my head quickly as I feel another finger prodding at my hole. It slips in causing my eyes to screw shut, the two fingers start to slowly fuck into me. Lily releases my jaw before a harsh slap stings against my cheek. She presses a bruising grip to my neck, squeezing the sides. “Open your eyes,” she seethes. “I expect a response when I speak to you.” My eyes open to meet her bright green ones. “What do you call me?” 

“Mummy,” I choke out. Lily hums in content as her fingers fuck into my hole, the sloppy sound filling the room. 

“Hear how wet you are? Just from me tying you up and slapping you around. Such a little slut,” Lily laughs. My cheeks heat up at the degrading tone in her voice. “You like it don’t you? You like it when I use you like a little plaything.” 

“Yes,” I breathe out. “Love when you use me.” A smirk plays on the redhead’s lips as she looks down at me. Her thumb moves to circle around my clit quickly causing the fire in my stomach to build. I let out a loud moan as Lily changes the position of her fingers to abuse my g-spot. 

“There we are,” Lily whispers. My hips begin to buck against her hand as she moves her hand from my neck to press my hips against the bed. 

“Please mummy, oh my god!” I shriek. The evil smirk doesn’t leave the girl’s face as she quickens the circles on my clit. 

“Such a pretty little slut, aren’t you, doll?” she hums. The pleasure was enough to make the ability to speak properly disappear completely. Lily’s pleasuring movements stop completely as she scowls down at me. She reels her hand back before sending a harsh smack to my cheek. My head is thrown to the side as my eyes water slightly. Lily’s hand grips my jaw as she forces me to look into her green eyes. “I thought I made it clear I want you to answer me when I speak to you, whore.”

“I’m sorry, mummy. So so sorry,” I whine as I look at her. “Just your little whore. Just a little plaything. All yours.” The smirk regains its place on her lips as she looks down at me. 

“All mine,” she grins. I watch as Lily stands up and walks to the other side of the room. I close my eyes and try to catch my breath. Moments later I feel a hand pushing my thighs open. “Open those thighs. Let mummy at your slutty pussy, baby.” I let my legs fall open as I look at her. I see a harness and strap-on wrapped around her hips. I let out a loud whine as I feel Lily rub the tip of the rubber cock rub between my folds. 

“Oh Godric,” I mumble as the head of the rubber presses into my hole. Lily bottoms out as I feel it press against my g-spot. My mouth falls open as she begins drilling into me relentlessly. 

“There we go, my little whore. Taking mummy’s cock like it’s your job,” she mocks. 

“Is my job, the only thing I was made to do,” I moan loudly. Lily’s hips fuck into me even faster as my eyes squeeze shut. I let out a string of loud moans as her fingers dig into the flesh of my thighs. 

“That’s my girl,” Lily mumbles as her fingers find the sensitive bud between my thighs. I let out a shriek-like moan as my hips roll forward. 

“Fuck,” I whimper as I feel the pace her fingers quicken. “So close. Please, I’m so close!” 

“Here we go pretty girl,” Lily says through her clenched teeth. “Cum all over my cock.” As soon as those words leave the redhead’s mouth, my thighs begin to shake, and my vision goes white. A high-pitched moan breaks out of my throat. My back arches off the bed as I clench around the rubber cock inside of me. I feel Lily pull out of me as a soft whine leaves my lips. 

“You didn’t cum,” I pout as I look at her. 

“I, uh, I did,” Lily says, a blush washing over her face. “Watching you like that.” She trails off. I giggle softly as I press a soft kiss to her lips. 

“Hot,” I mumble against her lips. Lily chuckles as she rolls her eyes.

[chanelsebbie]

Hi! I loved the stuff on your other account, and I wanted to see if you could write something with Tom being needy, but when you snap at him, he becomes all big, macho, and dominant?? Thanks!

Needy

➵Warnings: Smut, needy tom, suggestive content, dub-con but not really, degrading

➵Masterlist

➵a/n: I loved this, you want me dead, b?? I love you tho and thank you for the request 🥺

“Tom, stop,” you mumbled, trying your hardest to pay attention to the script in front of you. 

But Tom planned on doing the opposite, his lips still on your neck, sucking small pink and red marks on your skin, his fingers drifting up and down your inner thighs, too close to where you needed him most. 

“Come on, darling, lighten up a little bit. You’ve been staring at that script for hours, I think you need a break from it,” he argued, turning your head with his finger under your chin, leaning in to have your lips on his. 

“Yeah, because it’s my job,” you argued, “How I make money. You can’t always be the breadwinner,” you shifted away from him. 

“I’ll make it worth your while,” he smirked devilishly, leaning over to your ear, whispering, “I can make you cum so hard you cry, darling, it would be all about you,”

He takes one of your hands, placing it right on his painfully hard bulge, “See what you do to me? Feel what you do to me?” he muttered. 

The shifting of your thighs didn’t go unnoticed by him as you swallowed hard. You wanted nothing more than to have him dip down between you legs and lick you until you passed out. But you really needed to finish this script before you started work tomorrow.

“Tommy, I can’t. I really have to finish this,” you said as politely as you could muster, knowing that you had been needy at times like this.

The eldest Holland brother scoffed at your dedication, even if he would do the same thing in your situation, seeing as you two had the same job.

“Just take a break,” he protested your argument, “the script will be there when you get back, darling,”

Now you were getting annoyed, Tom’s antics becoming a distraction rather than motive. You knew he wasn’t going to stop.

“Thomas. Stanley. Holland.” You finally gritted, his eyes growing wide at someone using his full official birth name besides his mother, “I said no,”

“Right,” he scoffed in disbelief, getting up and heading towards the bedroom before slamming the door behind him, not bothering to look back your way.

Something about the way he slammed that door told you that there was no more playful tone, and once you were done, you were going to be in for it.

You finished the script around an hour later, but stayed out there longer than necessary because you really, really didn’t want to see what Tom was cooking up in his devious little brain about a tit for a tat. 

Finally, you mustered up the courage to get up off the couch and set your script on the kitchen counter before finally slipping down the hall to the last door, hesitantly twisting the knob.

The first thing she was greeted with was Tom’s back to the doorway, most likely either pretending to be asleep or actually asleep.

You slipped into bed and under the covers, a warm lamp lighting the room as you scooted as close behind him as possible, wrapping your arms around him as you leaned in and kissed his neck gently.

If he wasn’t awake before, he definitely was now.

And yet he resumed in a dormant state, pretending you weren’t even there as he continued to stay in the same position.

“Tommy,” you silently whined, your fingers tracing his bare chest, trying to coax him to give in just like he did you.

“Tommy?” He scoffed, “I thought I was Thomas.”

You closed your eyes and let out a breath of regret, poking your head over him as you kissed under his earlobe, knowing it was his sweet spot.

“Come on, darling,” you teased, mocking his British accent.

Before you could think, Tom was grabbing you by the throat and hovering over you, a lustful sadistic look in his eyes as he searched your wide ones.

“I have half a mind to tie you to the bed and edge you all night, then leaving you there while I sleep on the couch,” he growled lowly.

You whimpered, knowing that was the last thing you wanted, and he knew it too.

“Or maybe I could just use you as a little plaything to get myself off and not touch you for the next week.”

“All this over me snapping back?” You challenged.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling merciful, princess, after all, it is your first time truly pissed me off, huh?” His grip tightened slightly, making you squeak.

“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to fuck you until I cum. And if you cum as well, so be it, but it won’t be my problem. Understood?”

Your face sported a look of annoyance, but in all reality, you felt like this is what you needed. To be put back in place. To be dominated. 

“Understood?” he gritted when he recieved no answer, snapping you back into reality from your diviating thoughts. 

“Mhm,” you nodded, biting your lip to keep from letting loose a smile that would surely get you in deeper shit.

Without another word, Tom released your throat, letting his hand drift down your body, and you shivered right as he got to your v-line, his soft, intentional touches driving you insane. And needy.

Soon enough, his fingers found your clothed clit, drinking in the reaction you were giving him, your eyes on his.

Even though he was insistent on only pleasuring himself, you knew that he just loved make you cum just a little too much, making his promise futile.

His mouth was propped open, small pants tumbling from his lips as he took control, shifting your panties to the side and inserting a finger, curling it, not giving you any time to adjust before he was thrusting at a fair pace.

You whimpered and whined, writhing under him as he did his best to stay concentrated on pleasuring you. Put your sounds were so heavenly.... so distracting.

His pace quickened as he soaked in your musings, your arms going around his shoulders, hands going to the back of his head, pulling him in and locking your lips with his as your moans were now muffled with his mouth.

Suddenly, he pulled back, panting, “See? This is all I wanted, darling. Now cum,” you nodded as he did the same, “cum all over my fingers, slut.”

Like a dog on command, your core tightened around him as you threw your head back, letting out long, breathless sounds of pleasure as he helped you ride it out, now grinding his painful hard-on onto the skin of your thigh.

He abruptly yanked out his fingers, then stripping you forcefully as he threw you around like a rag doll, and once you were perfectly bare for him, he stood back to admire his favorite girl.

“Stunning,” he sighed out, before stripping himself, now going to hover over the top of you, his patience for release thinning.

He lined himself up with you, your eyes meeting his, a wordless confirmation that this is what you truly wanted.

It was a stretch, it always was, but it felt amazing to have him inside you, slippin in centimeter by centimeter, making you feel every ridge and vein. His want and his need for nobody but you. 

You were breathless as he started to move, sliding in and out as he stretched you, his heavy breaths making you squirm on his cock. His eyes were locked with yours, his chocolate brown eyes staring into yours, a disagreement leading to such a romantic, passionate moment. 

He began to go quicker, adding to the pressure in your core, leaning down and kissing your neck, whispering soft nothings into your skin as he continued to move. 

“Just like that,”

“So good for me, my perfect girl.”

“Fuck, clench around me like that again, darling,”

“I love you. I love you so fucking much,”

The outpour of affection made you weaker and weaker as you slipped into another headspace, whimpers and moans the only noise you could make as his paced quickened and hardened. 

“Fuck, I’m close, darling, are you close?” he panted, and you nodded, letting out a small ‘mhm’.

You clenched hard around him, both of you plummeting over the edge. Both of you let out a symphony of moans and gasps as you both slipped into a state of euphoria, the both of you grasping at each other as you did. 

The both of you struggled to catch your breath, Tom pulling back and looking at your closed ones, smiling to himself, knowing that he made you feel as good as he did. 

“Fuck,” you sighed. 

“So. Still feel like talking back?”

[i-cant-sing]

Omg part 2 for yan light please? Your writing is so on charater for him and yan L was also really good as well

Yandere Light Yagami Pt 2:

Pt 1 can be found here!

Thanks to everyone for requesting pt 1! Enjoy! :)

Check out my MASTERLIST for more!

Yandere Light Yagami:

You didn't know you could be this compliant. You didn't. But Light did.

As you both layed in bed, naked, Light holding you to his chest, rubbing soothing circles on your belly, you both had different train of thoughts that were ultimately going to reach the same station. You were thinking about how you had become so... docile? Had you been in confinement for too long? Was Stockholm syndrome kicking in? Was it because of the guilt of not being able to stop him? Or was it because Light killed everyone you cared about?

You had tried to play his psychological games. But you lost. You had managed to get a hold of the Deathnote, and you were going to write his name in but he caught you and broke your fingers. You then tried to play along; you came up with a good system for who to kill. You would do extensive research on each person, serving both purposes: to see if the person truly deserved death and to slow Light down. But you later found out that your efforts didn't matter. He was killing people on a whim and he was having someone else do it for him. Misa Amane. She was quite famous. And pretty too. You didn't know why Light would use you for intimacy, both in and out of bed, when he already had a willing participant.

For every mistake you made, no matter how little, Light would punish you by killing people you were even remotely associated with. Your family, friends, everyone was dead. And judging by the content look on his face, L was going to die soon too. Hopelessness. Maybe that's why you have become like this.

"I love you." Light said, pressing a kiss to your temple as he snuggled you more. "You're so beautiful like this." You really were, in his eyes. Now that you don't fight him anymore, now that you understood that you belong to him, you're beautiful. Light liked you being so... submissive. But more than that, he loved the look of complete defeat in your eyes, the realisation that you only have him in this world now. No ones going to come for you. No one could; only he and Misa knew about you.

"What's next?"you managed to ask him. Whats next on his list of impending doom? He hummed, before replying, "Well, soon all obstacles in my way are going to be removed. Once that happens, I'll become the ruler of the world. And then, I'll get rid of all the filth in this world." You closed your eyes, asking "how? Do you have a new system of justice in mind?" Light gripped your chin, turning your head towards him. "I am the system, (Y/n). I am justice." You saw that crazy look in his eyes. You sighed, turning away from him, but Light suddenly flipped you over, straddling your waist as he leaned down. His hair tickling your face as he looked at you with possessiveness. "Dont look so gloomy, darling. I know you feel lonely when I'm not here, but soon you'll have a baby to keep you company." He said before kissing you passionately, biting your lips hard before getting off of you. "For now, Misa will keep you entertained." He chuckled before putting the cuff back on your ankle, and left the room.

Misa. When you first met her, you knew she didn't like you. She thought that you were trying to steal Light from him, that you were actually in love with him. She tried to attack you at first, but Light had pulled her out of the room and told her that he actually loved her and that you were just a part of the plan, a temporary plaything. And so Misa put up with you. Light would usually put her in charge of you; he had caught you trying to stab yourself with a nail filer after he had slept with you the first time. And now that you were carrying his child, he had to make sure you wouldn't do anything like that again.

Misa came in a few hours later, locking the door behind her like usual. "Hey, (Y/n)!"she chirped, as she skipped towards you. "I brought some stuff for you!"she told you as she dangled big shopping bag. "Hi, Misa. Whats in that?"you asked her, your voice monotonous. She put the bag down and started to uncuff your ankle. "You'll see! But first, let's take a bath." She helped you clean up yourself and the room. Once she was done, she sat you down on the bed and gave you the bag. You opened the bag to find clothes in it. Maternity clothes. You had barely started to show. You were a bit glad that you hadn’t started showing, because anything associated with the baby would make you remember the events that caused it. When you first realised that you were pregnant, you tried everything you could to get rid of it. You didn't want to give him another thing to hold over your head. But once Light found out, he became even worse somehow. He was glad he was having a child; and now he had to do everything to make the world fit for his offspring. He started handing out harsher deaths, killing off people who rubbed him off the wrong way. To you, he stopped being physically violent. But he did become more possessive of you. He wanted to know what you were doing, why you were doing it. He wanted to know if you had fallen in love with him; if you had finally decided to become his lapdog.

When Misa came to know about your pregnancy, she was angry. Not at Light, but at you. But Light manipulated her again. He told her that he didn't want her to have a kid because her body would get messed up. And he needed her as his right hand, and being pregnant would get in the way of that. Once the baby was here, they would raise it together, as if you were a surrogate. Misa bought it.

You knew Misa wasn't stupid. She was actually quite intelligent. You actually enjoyed her company. After Light would do his number on you, it would be Misa who would come to pick up the pieces. She would be the one to wipe your tears away and bandage you up.

You had tried to convince her to let you go, tried to even fight her. But she was too observant. She predicted your moves. She always knew when you were planning something. She saw right through you.

You thanked Misa for the maternity clothes. She had ordered you guys some food, your favourite. As you began eating, Misa looked at your belly, with adoration and envy? "Penny for your thoughts?"your voice brought her of her trance. "Oh! It's nothing. Just thinking about how much Light would love the baby. I cant wait for it to come!" She smiled. You looked at her, shaking your head. "He won't." "What?" "He won't love the baby, Misa. He isn't capable of that."you told her. She smiled, "You're wrong. He does love. He loves me! He loves you too, I know. But he loves me more! And he'll love the baby as well!"

You finished up your food, "Light doesn't love us Misa. Not you, me or this baby. If he did, why would he beat you? I've seen the bruises on your arms, don't try denying. You know that he's just using you to achieve his goals. And I'm just a rag doll for him. You deserve better than him. You don’t deserve the resentment Light gives you when all you do is love him. Once he's tired of us, he'll get rid of us too. He’s hurt both of us. He's hurting both of us." You held her hand, looking her dead in the eyes. "And love isn't supposed to hurt Misa." She looked at you with an indescribable emotion in her eyes, whatever fantasy of Light she had, was cracking. "Whatever. Its not like I've got through to you before anyways-" you were cut off by Misa, her soft lips crashing with yours.

You tried to push her off, but she wouldn't budge. You heard the door open and suddenly she was ripped off of you. It was Light. He dragged Misa to the corner of the room and started thrashing her. "WHAT THE FUCK MISA?! I TOLD YOU TO LOOK AFTER HER! NOT FUCK HER!" Misa starts stammering, "Light, baby. Its not what you think-" She was cut off by Light slapping her. "Oh its not?! You were fucking sticking your tongue down her throat!" "No, it was just an accide-" He slapped her again, causing her to cry. "SHUT UP! I KNEW I SHOULDN'T HAVE TRUSTED YOU! SHE'S MINE! MINE!" Light started choking her, not realising in his screaming fit that he'd left the door wide open for you.

This was it. The perfect distraction. Your moment to escape has finally come. But you couldn't move. Not when your eyes were fixed on Misa.

You were almost a carbon copy of Light when it came to intelligence. But you still weren't able to escape him all these months. Because Light was able to control you because of a single flaw of yours. You cared. You cared about people you didn't even know, but you still cared.

If I leave now, she will die. And with that thought, you lunged towards Light, pulling at his arms trying to get him off. "Light! Stop it! Its not her fault!" Suddenly, you were pushed to the ground. Light started punching you. "Oh I know its not her fault! ITS YOURS! YOU DECIDED TO WHORE YOURSELF TO HER SO YOU COULD GET OUT OF HERE, RIGHT?! DON’T YOU UNDERSTAND THAT. YOU. BELONG. TO. ME!?!"He yelled between punches.

Misa looked at you from behind Light's shoulder. She quickly got up and tried to stop him. Pulling at his arm, she yelled again "Light! Stop! You'll kill her and the baby!" But he didn't stop, only replying "She's gone through worse! And if the baby's that weak, then it doesn't deserve to survive!" And just like that, Misa realised you were right. Whatever dream she had of Light and her was gone. She slowly backed away from Light.

Light was still punching you, even though you had lost consciousness long ago. Suddenly, Light started choking up. He got off you, not understanding what was happening to him. He turned to look for Misa, asking her to help him. But as she stood there, with the Deathnote in her hands, he realised what had happened. Misa had written his name. "M-Misa!?" She just stood there, her eyes glazed. Or had she finally woken up? "Love isn't supposed to hurt, Light And you've hurt us. A lot. Now perish."

Once Light had stopped breathing, she rushed towards you. She checked for your pulse. You were still alive. Misa pressed a soft kiss to your lips. "It'll be okay, (Y/n). We'll be okay. I'll fix everything."

You all got part 2, I got the ending I wanted. Everybody wins.

Now if someone here knows how to study biochem or do witchcraft, hmu cause I dont wanna fail exams. Speaking of which, Ill be less active here, so if you do send in requests, keep them short. Or better yet, send in questions. I’ll be happy to answer them. :)

[ja3minz]

enchanting.

rated m.

dom!fem!reader x sub!haechan.

warnings: mommy kink, praise kink, light bondage, light degradation, crying, overstim, choking, dirty talk, unprotected sex.

donghyuck was such a whiny boy.

you loved it, you couldn’t lie. you loved how high strung he was under your touch, you loved how every little kiss made him whimper and beg for more.

he was so adorable.

donghyuck was breathless, chest heaving up and down as you rolled your hips against his. he had been achingly hard for a while now and your wet core pressed right up against his shaft wasn’t doing him any favors.

“please…please, y/n.”

“ah, that’s not my name. you know better, pretty baby.” you ran your nails across the honeyed skin of his jawline, the simple gesture making him shiver.

“nngh, m-mommy! mommy! please. pretty, pretty please. i’ve been so good for you all night.”

you hummed in response, mulling over your options. either keeping him here like this, stringing him along until he was absolutely and truly spent; or giving the boy mercy and letting him have what he so desperately wanted.

“use me, mommy. use my pathetic cock. use me like a toy.” donghyuck babbled, tears clinging to the corners of his doll-like eyes. he struggled a little against the silk ribbons that were tying his hands above his head and you could see he was trying so desperately not to thrust upwards into you.

you cooed at him, lifting your hips off of him to get a better look at your prize. “oh, look at my baby. my sweet little angel, so desperate to cum.” you said with a small, teasing pout, fingertips running down the expanse of his bare chest until they got to his cock, rested prettily against his tummy.

donghyuck inhaled sharply at the sudden touch, thrashing around when your soft hand encased around him. you had barely moved, stroking him slowly but after hours of teasing everything felt heightened to him.

you squeezed his length once and he just about jumped out of his skin, back arching off the bed.

“mommy..! o-oh god, mommy...mommy it’s so much...just wanna cum. i’ll do anything! please let me cum.”

he had been reduced to tears now, a few of them coming tumbling down his rosy cheeks while he fell limp onto the pillow underneath him. you cooed at him again, using your other hand to wipe his tears away. “my baby boy...you want it so bad, don’t you?”

donghyuck nuzzled against your hand for a moment before nodding tiredly, his doe eyes effectively sending shockwaves through your heart. “please…it aches so bad, mommy. i’m sorry for b-being such a brat to you, i’ll be good now.” he begged softly, pressing soft kisses against your palm.

when he looked at you like that, how could you not take pity on him?

“okay, my baby. mommy will give you what you want.” you hovered above his cock, it still in your hand as you began to aim it towards your sopping wet entrance.

“mommy’s gonna use your pretty little cock to get herself off and if you’re good enough for me then i’ll let you cum inside me. okay?”

that sounded like heaven to donghyuck.

cumming inside you was a delicacy he very seldom got due to his inherent brattiness, and he cherished it every time he did. there was nothing like the feeling of your white hot walls squeezing tightly around him, and the feeling of stuffing you full of his cum. the noises you would make that made his chest puff with pride knowing that he was fulfilling his duty of being your plaything.

he couldn’t wait.

“yes! yes, yes! thank you so much, mommy! thank you, i promise i‘ll never be bad again!”

he let out a sharp gasp when the tip of his cock had entered her, letting out a fluttering sigh that made you giggle. oh, how you loved the control you had over him.

“that’s my good boy. filling mommy up so well.” you moaned as you slowly sank down onto his cock until he was fully sheathed inside of you.

his toes curled and he cried out for you as you began to set your unrelenting rhythm, bouncing up and down on his cock. the view was breathtaking, your tits bouncing up and down and the sight of you swallowing his cock like that was enough to make him cum right there.

you were just so beautiful. it made his heart soar.

“m-mommy’s so pretty...s-so pretty. wanna be mommy’s toy forever.” he babbled on, eyes falling shut as he tried hard to focus on not cumming. “love...love it when mommy u-uses my cock. it feels so- ah! so good!”

you hummed in response, tossing your head back before letting out a melodic moan. “yeah? you like being mommy’s favorite little fuck toy?” your hand traveled towards his neck, wrapping your fingers around it and squeezing. “you look at mommy when she speaks, baby boy.”

his eyes shot open and he let out the cutest little moan, one that made you smile slowly. he began to struggle against his binds again, his cock twitching inside of you. “i love it! i love it, i...nngh. i w-wanna cum, mommy.” he huffed.

donghyuck wanted to wait. he wanted to wait and prove he could be good but he couldn’t. it was too much for him. he couldn’t wait any longer.

“i wanna fill mommy’s pretty pussy up...please...please, i wanna...ah! mm! c-cant hold it!”

his eyebrows furrowed, hands balling into fists. his whole body tensed, he was using everything in his power not to cum until you told him to.

he was losing the battle fast, though.

you watched him nearly fall apart with an adoring smile, licking your lips before leaning down to capture his lips in a deep kiss. as you were doing this, you released your grip on his throat to reach up and undo his binds.

you wanted him to touch you.

his hands instantly found themselves on your sides, squeezing them tightly before wrapping his arms around you completely. it was just so darling how he always wanted to hold you during sex.

such a clingy baby. you mused to yourself.

you began to roll your hips against his, moaning into his mouth as you did.

donghyuck was so loud, it was almost comical. even with your lips against his, he was openly moaning whorishly; still babbling on and on about how much he wanted to cum. begging her to let him cum.

he was just so close.

you pulled away just enough so that your noses were touching, hot breath fanning over each other’s faces. your lidded eyes kept contact, and then you finally said those magic words.

“cum with me, baby boy.”

donghyuck’s hips lifted, and he began to pound upwards into you like a man possessed by pleasure, mouth falling open to let out a final scream of your name as his orgasm came rushing over him like a waterfall.

he came hard, so hard he saw black spots dotting his vision before fireworks exploding behind his eyelids. donghyuck fell back onto the bed with his fingernails digging in the skin of your hips as he filled you up to the brim with his cum.

you came not too far after him, the simple sight of him losing it underneath you sending you over the edge. you came with a loud moan, eyes rolling upwards as the warm rush of cum filling you overtook your body.

it was absolutely incredible.

donghyuck went limp underneath her as his orgasm rode out in waves, the aftershocks sending shivers down his spine. “thank you…thank you so much, mommy…you’re so good to me.” he responded airily, an angelic glow surrounding him.

goodness, he was pretty. brown hair a mop on his head and full lips swollen from all of the kissing and lip biting. stray tears still escaped from his eyes, falling down his cheeks that were tinted the loveliest shade of pink.

what artwork he was.

you giggled softly, rolling your hips twice more to tease just a bit before pressing some chaste kisses across his jawline. “my sweet boy, you did so well.” you whispered, causing him to grin in response.

his chest bloomed at your compliments, your dreamy voice lulling him to sleep.

donghyuck didn’t let go of you the entire night.

[get-your-fics]

Plaything

Summary: You are Malcolm and Ainsley’s babysitter, but end up getting involved with the father of the Whitly family in unexpected ways.

Pairing: Martin Whitly x reader

Warnings: Cheating, kidnapping, drugging, language, non-con sexual content

A/N: so this has been in my drafts for a while and I don’t think I’ll ever get around to finishing it, so consider this my new year’s eve present to y’all :)

“Coming!”

The voice came from inside the Whitly’s townhouse three seconds after you had rung the doorbell. Footsteps drew closer, and the lock on the front door clicked. The knob twisted before the door pulled open, revealing a man on the other side.

“Hello,” he said in a deep, rumbling baritone. He had brown, curly hair and a full beard. He was wearing a bright red sweater, and he had a welcoming smile on his face that you noticed didn’t quite reach his eyes. “You must be (Y/N).”

You forced a smile on your face. “That’s me.” You reached a hand out to him and hoped he didn’t notice the way you were slightly shaking. You couldn’t help but get a little nervous when meeting new people. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Whitly.”

His blue-green eyes raked over your form up and down as if he was taking all of you in. After a moment, his grin grew wider, and grabbed your outstretched hand. “Please, call me Martin.” You tried to ignore the way the feel of his skin ignited sparks along your nerve endings. “Why don’t you come in?”

You subconsciously mourned the loss of contact when he retracted his hand. He stepped aside and held the door open wider for you. You stepped inside and wandered further into the foyer, gazing up at the crystal chandelier and high walls in admiration. “Wow. You have a really nice home, Mr. Whitly.”

He closed the front door behind him. “Thank you,” he walked closer to you, “and didn't I tell you to call me Martin?” He nudged your shoulder with his elbow and gave you a playful wink. You felt an involuntary blush wash over your cheeks as he called up the stairs, “Ainsley! Malcolm! The babysitter is here!”

You heard the pitter-patter of light footsteps against hardwood before you saw two children appear at the top of the stairs. They flew down the winding staircase in a blur and landed in front of their father at the bottom. One of the children was a girl with long, blonde hair that was slightly mussed. The other was a boy slightly taller than his sister with brown hair like his father’s and bright, blue eyes.

“Kids, meet your babysitter, (Y/N).” Mr. Whitly wrapped his arms around his children’s shoulders. “You listen to her while we’re gone, all right?” They nodded wordlessly, and he ruffled their hair with a chuckle.

“I’m coming! I’m coming!” You swiveled your head to see a woman rushing down the stairs, her stilettos clicking against the hardwood. She finished putting her other earring in as she came to a stop next to Mr. Whitly. “Sorry I’m late, dear. You know how long it takes me to get ready.”

She flipped her glossy, chestnut brown hair over her shoulder, and it cascaded down her back in elegant waves. You assumed this must be his wife. She was extremely beautiful and had a regal air about her. “Mrs. Whitly, it’s nice to meet you,” you stammered out and held your hand out to her.

She glanced at you before draping her hand in yours. “You, too.” She gave your hand a single shake before drawing hers away. She turned to her husband. “Really, darling, we must get going if we want to make it to the banquet on time.”

“I wonder who’s fault that would be,” he muttered with a roll of his eyes only you caught. You stifled a giggle. “You go ahead and get in the car, dear. I have to give (Y/N) a few instructions first.”

She let out a sigh. “All right.” She gave each of her children a kiss on their head before exiting the townhouse, leaving a cloud of Chanel perfume in her wake.

“Here’s some money in case you want to order a pizza later.” Mr. Whitly dug out his wallet from his pocket and handed you a crisp twenty dollar bill. “They should both be in bed by nine o’ clock.” He put a hand on your shoulder and leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Thanks for agreeing to watch them for us.”

He smiled at you, and you felt like you were glowing under his touch. “No problem.” You gave him a small smile back. You didn’t know why you were reacting to him in this way, but he was so handsome, you couldn’t help it.

He patted your shoulder before turning to his children. “Be good for (Y/N) while we’re gone, okay?” He kissed the top of their heads before giving you a final wave goodbye. You waved back, and he followed after his wife out the door.

You watched the headlights of the Whitly’s car pass over the windows as it drove away. Then, you turned to the two Whitly children who stood stock still at the bottom of the steps. You bent down so you were eye level with them. “So...” you smiled at them. “Who wants pizza?”

The Whitly children were rather surprisingly easy to deal with. Ainsley was a little demanding, dragging you around by your hand to play dolls or stuffed animals with her. Malcom was more guarded and reserved. He had this haunted look in his large, round eyes, like he had seen too much, more than he let on.

When you put the kids to bed on time, you still had a while before the Whitly parents were due home, so you retired to the living room. You laid down on the couch and turned on the tv, flipping to some random channel playing a movie. The blue light from the screen washed over you as your eyes started to flutter closed.

Next thing you knew, there was a hand on your shoulder shaking you and a deep gravelly voice whispering in your ear. “(Y/N), wake up.”

You opened your eyes. The television was off. You blinked rapidly to clear your blurry vision and, through the darkness, you could make out Mr. Whitly’s form hovering above you. “Oh, Mr. Whitly,” you murmured, your voice groggy. “I’m sorry. I fell asleep.”

“That’s all right.” You thought you felt his hand trail up from your shoulder to caress your cheek, but it could have just been your mind playing tricks on you. “Here’s for babysitting.” He pressed a couple of folded bills into your hand.

“Thank you.” You closed your eyes and stretched your aching limbs. You were all cramped from napping on the couch.

“Do you need a ride home?” he asked.

You shook your head. “No, that’s okay. I can walk.”

“Walk? At this time of night?” He looked dismayed. “At least let me get you a taxi.” You nodded, and he stood up. “I’ll go call one now. Can I make you a cup of tea while you wait?”

You sat up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. “Yes, please.”

He smiled. “Great. I’ll be right back.” He retreated to the kitchen, and you felt your cheeks warm. You didn’t want to inconvenience him, but you wouldn’t pass up the opportunity to spend a little more time with the man. There was something intriguing about him. You found him undeniably charming, and his presence was so warm and comforting.

“Leave,” a voice drew you out of your thoughts, and you whipped your head around to find where it was coming from. You spotted Malcolm standing in the archway leading to the foyer dressed in his blue striped pajamas, a blanket wrapped around his small frame.

“Malcolm?” You furrowed your brow. “What are you still doing awake?”

“Don’t drink it,” he urged you in a hushed whisper. Before you could question him further, the sound of approaching footsteps made his clear blue eyes go wide. He whirled around and dashed back up the stairs the way he came as quiet as a mouse.

A second later, Mr. Whitly returned with a steaming cup of tea in his hands. “Be careful, it’s hot,” he warned you as he set the cup down on the coffee table in front of you.

“Thank you.” You stared down at the murky, brown liquid in the cup before looking up at him. “Did you call a taxi?”

He folded his hands in front of him and nodded. “It’ll be here in ten minutes.” He jutted his chin out in the direction of the cup on the table. “Aren’t you going to drink your tea?”

You looked back down at the cup, curls of steam rising off of the surface and floating into the air. You didn’t want to be rude, and Malcolm was probably just trying to play a joke on you. But when you lifted the cup to your lips and took a sip, you swore the grin on his face grew wider and his cerulean eyes turned dark. You set the cup down and wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, looking up at him with a smile.

“Good girl,” he nearly purred, sending shivers down your spine. He drew closer to you as your vision became fuzzy, his eyes as black as a shark’s when it smelled blood. You felt like you were being sucked into a blackhole, and you gave in as gray dots blurred your vision.

The last thing you saw before you were completely swallowed by darkness was Mr. Whitly’s menacing grin sharper than a knife.

-

Falling. You were falling. You were falling down a long, winding rabbit hole. Your eyes were closed, and swirls of bright light lit up the veins running along your eyelids. You couldn’t move. Your limbs were numb, but it felt like every inch of your skin was draped in warmth. Then, the gray gave way to a blinding light above you searing your eyes.

You winced. “Turn it off,” you groaned. “Turn it off.”

The light moved out of your eyes, and you blinked to see Mr. Whitly hovering above you. His lips lifted into a wide smile when he saw you. “Finally. You’re awake.”

You frowned. “The sun. It’s too bright.” Your words were slurred, the vowels and consonants running together until you were barely intelligible.

He chuckled. “Don’t worry. You’re all right.” He reached out a hand and brushed some stray strands of hair out of your face.

You tried to move your arms, but couldn’t. You looked up to see rope looped around your wrists. You tried your legs next, but same thing. You looked down to see you were restrained to a metal table and your form was completely bare.

You looked back up at him. “I’m naked.”

He laughed and hummed. “Yes, you are.”

You furrowed your brow, but your muscles felt like they were made of molasses. Your mind tried to form a coherent thought, but it felt like your head was stuffed with cotton. You leaned back against the table and groaned. “My head hurts.”

“I’m sorry, dear. It’s probably a side effect of the drugs I put in your tea.” He corners of his lips turned downwards, but his expression didn’t match the twinkle in his eyes. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, really. I was just going to let you do your job and go. But when I saw you standing on my doorstep, so innocent and naive, I just couldn’t resist.” He brushed his thumb over your lower lip and stared down at you with an unreadable look in his eyes. “I had to make you my new plaything.”

Your lips parted, and his thumb slipped into your mouth. Without realizing what you were doing, you swirled your tongue around the pad of his finger. You closed your lips around his thumb and sucked. He watched you, entranced, before removing his appendage from your mouth with a pop. You let out a high-pitched whine.

“Fascinating,” he murmured, never taking his eyes away from you. Everything felt like it was moving in slow motion. “I am sorry, (Y/N).” He slid down your body as your vision blurred. “But I’m not sorry about what comes next.”

[writingkeepsmewhole]

Bad Habit

This is just a one shot about Sam and Dean. This is also meant to be day 4 or my 365 Fic challange. I know it’s now the 5th and not the 4th but it’s 3AM so I’m counting it as the 4th of January. :P Sorry if it sucks I rushed it, all of it.

Sam and Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Warnings: SMUT, Language, Threesome, No wincest. 

Fic Summary: Reader is a succubus that convinces the boys that she can feed without killing.

I walked into the building a jazz band playing on the stage farthest from the door. Fully aware of all the eyes on me. I couldn’t stop the smirk that came to my face as I sat at the bar.

“How can I help you?” The bartender asks his dark eyes dropping to my low cut dress.

“Surprise me.” I say leaning forward to place my chin on my hand.

“Sure thing.” He says smirking.

I smile back spinning myself around on the stool to scan the crowd. Leaning back I meet a few pairs of eyes but no one catches my eye.

I stop when I see a pair of men in the corner, trying their hardest not to look at me. I can’t stop the grin knowing I found my victims for the night.

“Here’s your drink miss.” The bartender says an apple martini setting on a napkin with a phone number on it.

“Thanks love.” I say winking at him, taking the drink and sliding off the stool.

I make my way over to the two men, both of them seeming out of placed dressed in flannel. The shorter one of them first to look up when I stop at there table.

“Hello boys.” I say smiling at them.

“Uh hi.” The taller one says.

“How’s it going?” The other says.

“It could be better, do you mind?” I ask guesting to the seat next to him.

“Sure.” He says smirking his green eyes lighting up.

“Your a doll.” I say sitting down and placing my drink down.

“So, how can your night be better?” The taller one across from me asks.

“Well.” I say biting my lip as I take a breath the smell of lust coming of the both of them.

“I’m looking for a little entertainment.” I say looking at the green eyed one, him undressing me with his eyes.

“You think you two could help me with that?” I ask him.

“Depends on what kind of fun you want?” He asks wrapping his arm around me.

I jump when something cold and hard is pressed into my side. I look down to see a gun. Hearing a click from under the table I turn to look at the long haired one.

“Hunters? Really?” I ask them both.

“Sorry sweetheart just trying to save a few lives.” The one next to me says.

“Well sorry to disappoint but I haven’t killed anyone in years.”

“You expect us to believe that?” The long haired one asks.

“Yes, I know how to get what I need without leaving corpses in my bed.”

“You are really trying to tell us you feed without killing people?” Green eyes asks me.

“When I’m a good girl I do.” I say moving closer to him, placing my hand on his thigh.

I watch him gulp but he doesn't lean closer.

“Sorry darling we made sure to wear protection against your charm.”

“Well that’ll make me want you even more.” I say pushing out my bottom lip.

“But if you two don’t want to play let me go and I’ll go find someone else.”

“Yeah that’s not gonna happen.” Brown eyes says, across from me.

“Why not?” I ask pouting.

“Because we don’t want to find your leftovers tomorrow.”

“Your really not listening are you? I don’t kill my playthings. Just leave them with a good time and I get fed. Everyone wins.”

“I’ve read the lore I know the truth.”

“Ooh what a smart little librarian, but I hate to pop your bubble handsome but we all don’t run around draining people dry. I can prove it if you like.”

“Oh yeah, how?” The one next to me asks.

“That’s easy, one of you join me for the night.” I say smirking at him, then looking at the one glaring holes at me.

“Or the both of you. Doesn't bother me. The more the merrier.”

“Were brothers.” The long haired one says.

“Oh, well just the one then.” I say shrugging.

“Sammy don’t act like we’ve never shared a girl.” The one next to me says.

“Dean, shut up and it’s Sam.” Sam says glaring at him.

“Let’s just finish this job and go home.”

“Now, now Sam no need to be so angry. This night can end well for all of us. You two come with me I get a snack and I’ll even help you catch the other bitch that’s hunting in my territory.”

“See Sam not so bad you the one always going on about that not all monsters are evil.”

“Stop that.” Sam says glaring at me.

“Stop what?”

“Seducing him.”

“Oh I stopped doing that after he shoved the gun in my ribs plus if you really do have protection from me I can’t make either of you do anything.”

“Then why-.”

“Why are you still attracted to me?” I ask already knowing he’s question.

“Well your a male and I can’t help but ooze pheromones.”

“I thought you said you can control it?” Sam asks clenching his jaw.

“To a degree but being this close is gonna have some effect. If you get your brother to let me go I will walk away and your head will clear up soon enough.”

“No.” He says straightening up.

“Your coming with us.”

“Is that so?”

“Sam.” Dean says sounding like he was warning him.

“I’m not letting her feed off someone else. If she says she can prove it I wanna see it for myself.”

“Now that’s what I want to hear.” I say smiling my stomach flipping with excitement.

“Get up.” Sam says standing up.

“You heard him.” Dean says pushing the gun into my side.

“Yes sir.” I say watching Dean’s green eyes darken.

I smirk making a note to self as I stand up. I watch as the both of them discreetly put their guns away. Them both grabbing my elbows.

“Relax boys don’t want to draw attention now do we?” I ask linking my arms with them.

They both look down at me and then share a glance as we walked to the door.

“So your place or mine?”

“Ours.” Both say at the same time.

“Of course.” I say let them lead me to an older black impala.

“Nice car.” I say as Sam holds the front door open for me.

“Aww how gentlemanly of you.” I say sliding into the seat.

“Keep going.” Sam says siding next to me as Dean gets behind the wheel.

“Well your the bossy one.” I say earning a glare.

“Differently got to say this is a first for me.” I say as Dean starts the car and starts heading into town.

“What are you talking about?”

“Well normally by this point I've at least gotten a kiss or two. And being the middle of a sexy man sandwich should be more sweaty than this.” I say hearing a huff from both of them.

“Both so angry.” I say not getting a reply.

“Well this is gonna be a fun night.”

“Hush.” Sam says looking at me.

“Ask me nicely.” I say winking at him.

He only tightens his jaw.

“I really bother you huh? How long has it been? A few months? A year?” I ask him making his face flush.

“Oh don’t tell me longer?”

“Sammy’s not a one night stand person.” Dean says making me turn to look at him.

“And I take it you are?”

He shrugs, pulling the car into the parking lot of the cheapest hotel in town.

“Well now you boys are gonna make me seem like the town hooker.”

“Well aren't you? You live off sex.” Sam says.

“Only because I have to. I have a job and everything.” I say as we all get out of the car.

“Didn’t expect that.” Dean says leading us to the room 304.

“Well you shouldn’t judge a book by it’s cover.” I say as he unlocks the door.

I follow him inside him turning on the lights to show a typical hotel room set up. Double beds, table and chairs, dresser, TV and a bathroom.

“How cosy.” I say pulling off my jacket leaving me in a low cut black dress.

“What are you doing?” Sam asks, Dean smacking his arm.

“Dude you know what you invited her here.”

“I don’t think asking someone to come over by gun point is an invasion but whatever helps you boys sleep at night.” I say sitting on the bed closest to the door.

“So, how should we get this thing started?” I ask crossing my legs and leaning back on my hands.

“You just have to have sex with one of us right?” Sam asks surprisingly smooth.

“Well not exactly that’s the most fun but I can just feed from kissing someone. I get more from sex. I can go longer without feeding when I have sex.”

“I thought you fed off you know…” Dean says blushing.

“Sperm?” I ask laughing.

“No, I can feed of a male or female.”

“Sweet.” Dean says moving to pull off his jacket and flannel him throwing it on the other bed.

“Very.” I say looking him up and down.

He was definitely fit. Wide shoulders and nice arms from what I could see. He moves over to sit next to me a necklace hanging from his neck. It simple a black obsidian crystal hanging from it.

“Your protection.” I say glancing at it then back at him.

“Who knew a few fancy words and a black rock could keep me halfway clear headed around someone like you.”

“Magic is a funny thing.” I say reaching up to touch it, both him and Sam looking shocked.

“It keeps the wearer protected. It doesn't harm me any. Just keeps my “negative” energy from clouding your mind.”

“So if we take them off you can control us?” Sam asks moving to sit on the other side of me.

“Not exactly. I can make you want me so bad you can stand it. But I can’t make you go out and kill someone.”

“I think we’ll keep them on.” He says looking me up and down.

“Of course, I can feed just fine with them on, that is if you boys ever get around to doing anything.”

“Like what?” Dean asks making me turn to look at him.

Smirking I move closer to him only stopping a few inches from his face.

“Whatever you want.”

I smirk when he presses his lips to mine, the taste of bourbon filling my mouth. Wrapping my arms around his neck I kiss him back getting a rush of energy as I start to feed from him. Feeling him pull my closer, a moan leaving his mouth I pull away from him.

“Easy now.” I say smiling at him.

“What the fuck was that?” He asks his green eyes meeting mine.

“That was me feeding.”

“But I liked it.”

“Well duh, kissing me is the only thing your gonna wanna do.”

“I thought I would painful.”

“Sex demon remeber, sex feels good.”

“So do you still need to…” Sam asks pulling my attention away from his brother.

“Feed? Yes, that was like eating one fry out of the bag only makes you want the whole meal.”

“You won’t kill us?”

“Cross my heart big guy.” I say smiling as Sam moves closer bending down to my level.

“One of us will kill you if do.” He says his mouth almost brushing.

“Oh I would love to see that.”

He doesn't respond only closing the gap between us. I tangle my fingers in his hair as I kiss him back letting out a moan as I feel his energy flow into me. I leave my other hand on the back of Dean’s head as he moves in to leave kisses on my neck.

I let them push me down to my back Dean’s hand running up my thigh as Sam pulls away from me making me whine.

“You taste like wine.” Sam says making me giggle.

“Really?”

“Yeah, why is that funny?”

“I thought she tasted like pie.” Dean says.

“That’s why. I taste like whatever you crave.”

“Didn’t expect that.”

“You don’t expect a lot of things do you?” I ask turning to Dean.

He shrugs leaning back to press his lips to mine, him squeezing my thigh, his other hand digging into my hair to pull me closer to him.

I pace myself careful not to take too much from him as I feel Sam kiss over my shoulder and down my chest. I smile as Sam pulls down the straps of my dress.

I wasn’t wearing anything underneath so it was easy for him to get to my breast him leaving kisses over it then my nipple. I gasp when he bites down on it making a rush go threw me both from the act and pulling more energy from Dean.

I pull away from him, his eyes dark and heavy.

“How ya feeling?” I ask him.

“Never better.” He says trying to kiss me again.

“Hold up there I don’t want to eat you up at once. Learn to share.” I say moving to pull Sam up and press my mouth to his.

“I hate sharing.” Dean says sounding like he was pouting him moving down to my chest.

I moan when pulls my dress down and starts sucking on my other nipple, his hand sliding up higher. I dig my fingers into Sam’s hair.

I don’t resist as Dean pushes my legs apart his hand easily finding my bare mound. I start to undress Sam trying to keep myself from letting go and draining him I move to kiss down his neck. Sucking on his skin I unbutton his shirt finding that he’s even more in shape then his brother.

I run my hands over his chest kissing my down. Dean moving with me him moving between my legs.

“Well someone is happy to please.” I say moaning as he starts to lick my clit.

“Yeah well what about you?” Sam asks his voice deeper.

I smirk looking up at him, his waist inches from my face. He’s jean’s not doing much to hide what’s waiting underneath.

“I’m always happy to please.” I say smirking at him and start to unbuckle his belt.

I make quick work of his jeans and boxers smiling when I freed his cock. Taking him into my mouth I feel his pulse as I wrap my hand around the base of his cock. He lets out a moan as I start to suck softly bobbing my head up and down. He grabs a handful of my hair and starts to thrusts into my mouth. I match his slow pace but gasp when I Dean push a finger inside of me.

I lose my train of thought for a second as he pumps his finger in and out of me, him still licking my clit as he pushes a second finger into me.

Sam tightens his grip on my hair reminding me of what I should be focused on. I go back to doing what I was doing, sucking on his cock only this time I suck harder and move my head faster

He lets out another moan him using his arm to move my head up and down. I don’t mind it making me hotter as he uses me. He clearly seems to enjoy it too his cock seeming to grow in my mouth. I use my tongue to rub the underside of his cock that seeming to push him over the edge.

I smile feeling him start to cum in my mouth the salty taste being the best thing I could ever have. I easily swallow all of it feeling a rush corse threw me. Sam holding my head tight to him as wave after wave of his seed fills my mouth.

When he’s finished I pull away from him and lick my lips.

“See your not dead.” I say smiling at him.

He smiles down at me and nods. He takes a shaky breath running his fingers through his hair.

“I’m gonna take a shower.” He says sitting up.

“Good more for me.” Dean says pulling away from me.

“Jerk.” Sam says pulling up his pants and walking to the bathroom.

“Bitch.” Dean says just as Sam closes the door.

“Do I wanna know?” I ask as Dean crawls up my body to hold himself over me.

“No.” He says moving his head down to take one of my nipples into his mouth.

I moan reaching down to remove his belt. Once I unbuttoned his jeans he pushed them down just enough to free his cock.

I didn’t mind we he pushed himself inside me I was as ready as he was. I moan when he starts thrusting into me him leaving bite marks along my chest and stomach.

I wrap my arms around him him pulling my leg up to hook around his hip as his pace picks up. It doesn't take long before we are both spilling over the edge. Him moaning loudly.

He falls over to the side laying next to me as he catches his breath.

“That was awesome.”

I giggle and nod my head turning to look at him.

“Yes it was.” I say feeling like I was practically buzzing.

“So you can keep from killing anyone?”

“Yes, both you and Sam will be a bit tried for the next few days but you’ll be fine.”

“And you?”

“And I’ll go run a marathon or something.” I say smiling earning one back.

Sitting up I start to fix my dress just at the bathroom door opens, Sam coming out dressed in a towel.

“Hi there.” I say standing up.

“Where are you going?” The both ask making me giggle.

“Well home of course. I’ll swing by tomorrow to help you boys as promised.” I say picking up my jacket and putting it on.

“But, I mean you can stay.” Sam says making me smile.

“Yeah he’s right it’s late.” Dean says as I reach the door.

“Now, now boys.” I say opening the door and turning to look at them.

“You know what they say, Don’t start a bad habit and you never have to quit.” I say winking at them then closing the door, leaving them with a night they won’t forget. 

[grizzly-bear-bane]

His Darling, snippet

Mal as a teenager, meeting her littliest brother for the first time.

+

Lady Catherine knew if she were moved to sigh one more time, she may forget her place and spank young Mallorie for being so petulant. 

The girl had kicked off her shoes, her stockings, had taken off her tiara which had taken her ladies an hour to arrange in her hair, and would have removed her dress in her tantrum had Lady Catherine not arrived when she did.

Many of the princess’s attendants were as young as Mallorie herself. Though not a single one of them had been raised by Lady Catherine, they knew to keep their mouths closed and stand in respect, in waiting. Not stomping about. Not muttering indignities under their breath. 

“Enough, your highness,” she said at last, shocked when she was forced to repeat herself in far less patient tone. “Princess. Enough.”

The girl at last obeyed, crossing her arms, her gaze downcast in defiance. She had angry tears in her eyes but deeper down, Lady Catherine knew, her sweet, young Mallorie was hurting. Another breath and she’d crumble. 

“Ladies,” Catherine said, needing to say nothing more. The attendants quickly and quietly exited the room, closing the doors gently behind them.

Mallorie sobbed, turning away again in shame now. “How could he do this to me?” She sobbed, her hands balling into fists. “I’m his daughter, Lady Catherine. I am a princess, I am not a maid!” 

“You are a princess, yes, but you are his subject first and his daughter, second.” Before Mallorie could argue, Lady Catherine took her hand. “Your King, and your father, has given you a command. One that you must obey.”

Mallorie yanked her hand away. “No.” 

“Your Highness, please. I did not raise you to behave this way.” 

“Well, then...Why aren’t you then raising this baby instead? Why did he not call on you? Is this not your duty to our family?”

“It is, and I shall be, but from a position of counseling you. You are the King’s one daughter, and as such, I encourage you to accept this new role as a tool for growth and education,” Lady Catherine urged. “Someday when he has chosen a husband for you, and you bear children of your own, this experience will serve you well, your highness. Take time to reflect and find peace.”

But they could already hear the telltale sound of a baby nearing them. An ornate carriage had arrived and from it a crying baby was removed. Mallorie walked to the window to watch her attendants down below, cooing over the baby to make him cease his crying but he only screamed louder. 

Mallorie slammed the window shut, startling herself when one of the stained glass panes fell out of place and clattered unbroken to the floor at her feet. She glared at it. “Why isn’t his mother responsible for him?” 

She and Lady Catherine both turned to the sound of laughter as Paul fully opened the door to the wardrobe from where he had been eavesdropping. 

“That little bastard’s mother is a plaything, sister. Would father truly inconvenience his fun with that screaming thing always sat in his toy’s lap?” He ducked the ring Mallorie threw at him and tried to run before Lady Catherine could scold him. He crashed right into Michel as their eldest brother entered the parlor.

“It’s not fair!” Mallorie stomped her foot at her brothers. “I will raise no child but my own when I become a mother. I hate that baby, I hate our father, and I hate this old castle!”

Michel closed the parlor door behind him and stared down at her with the same indifference Lady Catherine had tried and failed to raise out of him when he too was her young charge. He glanced at her flippantly. “Lady Catherine, stand aside. You are too close to my sister.”

She held her tongue and obeyed, taking several steps back, but now she too was fuming. 

Michel towered over Mallorie, his hands heavy and not at all comforting on her shoulders. “Must I bend you over my knee and spank you like I do my own children? You are embarrassing your family and insulting your King. Be grateful that he only had you and Paul moved to a castle still within his reach... I would hate to have to see you and your brother squalor in poverty for refusing the King’s favor. What, with your own mother now forgotten to her grave while his latest “play thing” has his full attention. I will only tell you this once, Mallorie—and Paul,” he said, turning to address the younger prince who was now standing behind Lady Catherine, hiding. “As a prince, as a brother, and as a boy fast becoming a man, Paul, you are to command this household and demand that every soul here obeys you. Even your sister. For you to allow her behavior to spiral this long is shameful to you both. Chin up. Shoulders straight. Do not cower behind your servant, boy. And you, Mallorie, as a princess and as a daughter, you have been given an order and henceforth that order should be your sole purpose until your King has gifted you with another assignment. Am I clear?”

Paul nodded at Michel’s feet but Mallorie would not. Lady Catherine eased her hand around Paul’s wrist, ending his intention to go and stand between Michel and his sister. 

The look Michel gave Mallorie placed a lump of fear in Lady Catherine’s throat that only grew more impossible to swallow as Mallorie simply returned his forehead with her own, her brow arching in challenge. Where had she learned such? 

He squeezed her shoulder, she brushed him off and took a step back, shying a glance at Lady Catherine and Paul before at last she nodded at Michel’s feet. 

The lump in Lady Catherine’s throat now lay heavy and painful in her stomach. Beyond respect, beyond duty, beyond everything Lady Catherine had ever known, she could no longer deny that Mallorie was justified in her anger. It was not she who was behaving dishonorably, it was her father. How long had it been since King Miles had called Mallorie or Paul to court? How longer still had it been since last he’s visited? King or not, his true legacy would be one of infidelity and children cast aside to fend for themselves until such a time as he had purpose for them. 

She watched Michel turn heel in triumph. Smug as ever, he swung the doors open to welcome the baby and his small entourage in. They were followed by Mallorie’s ladies. 

Mallorie covered her ears when the attendants brought the baby to her. She was surprised to see that for however small he was, he was already a toddler. A sickly one, but not an infant at all. 

She found herself surrounded by watchful eyes. Her ladies, the child’s nursemaids, Michel and his messengers to the King, and they all looked to her expectantly, waiting for her to take the child. She wiped away her tears quickly, and crossed her arms again, peering under her lashes at him squirm and cry. “His nose is wet.” 

Lady Catherine dabbed his nose with her handkerchief. “There,” she said softly, gently pushing the princess closer. “He’s ready for you.”

Mallorie glared one final time before taking him. She was awkward, holding him at arm's length. She looked from Michel to Lady Catherine, expecting someone to tell her what to do next. Only, before Lady Catherine could speak Michel had the small party clapping loudly and boastfully. It frightened the poor baby. 

The Lady had to smile when Mallorie held him to her chest to pat his back, instinctively as protective of him as she knew the princess would be. To everyone’s amazement—except of course Lady Catherine—the baby ceased his crying at once. His little brown eyes swept over the princess’s sparkling earrings and necklace. With deep dimples he smiled up at her before grabbing her necklace to put in his mouth.

Mallorie wrinkled her nose and snatched it away from him, regretting the pained look the baby gave her. She quickly kissed his little red palm in apology. He was truly the smallest being she had ever held. Like a little doll. Smaller even than her lap dog, and yet the baby was dressed in a tiny, ornate doublet and hose, and a chain of nobility around his neck that was ridiculous for a toddler. All stuffy and uncomfortable. No wonder he had cried so much. It was a wonder that he hadn’t exhausted himself by now, but soon, Mallorie decided to herself, forgetting her unwelcome guests and attendants, that once her brother and his spies were no longer lurking about, she would have her ladies fashion the baby a wardrobe much more gentle for him to wear. 

Lady Catherine and the attendants bowed low as Michel left, dragging Paul by his ear. Their guests soon followed. She breathed a great sigh but it was one of relief now. She joined the princess on the bench where she’d gone to sit. “Well, your highness?”

“I still dislike him,” she muttered, her brow furrowed in her feeble attempt to lie. 

Lady Catherine chuckled, reaching over to ease Mallorie’s lock of hair from the baby’s mouth. “You are fond of him.”

“I pity him.” She frowned, once again holding him at arm's length, standing him up on her knees. “He has no idea that he’s been abandoned by his mother and father. At least Paul and I had our mother to love us, but not this baby. It’s a shame.”

“I have faith, your highness, that that will soon change.” The Lady stood and curtsied, preparing to take her leave but she paused, full of conviction. The princess may not yet understand her feelings nor see the potential before her, but Lady Catherine surely did. “In your care, your highness, this child will know love… from you. It is not enough to have the hands of attendants and nursemaids to nurture him and to teach him his princely duties, nor is it enough to have the world’s finest tutors. You know this well. You and Prince Paul have had each other for family, and now so will young Arthur. He will surely be blessed here.” 

When Mallorie didn’t respond, the Lady curtsied and made her way to the doors. Behind her, she could hear the princess quietly hold little Arthur closer, exchanging curious gazes and, she was certain though she could not see it, a smile as well. 

+

[sunriserose1023]

Deep Blue, Painted Golden {2}

WORD COUNT: 2304 WARNINGS: Modern AU, angsty, getting drunk, flirting CHAPTER SUMMARY: Peggy convinces you to get out of the house, not knowing a chance meeting will change your life. 

Masterlist

“You’ve got to get out of this house.”

Your eyes were wide when you turned to face your cousin. Peggy shook her head, arms crossed over her chest. You blinked and Peggy sighed. 

“There’s a little pub down the road that we can—“ “No.”

Peggy raised an eyebrow. 

“Go get dressed.” “Peg—“ “This is a new stipulation of mine. If you stay with me, we must go visit the pub.”

You narrowed your eyes before you sighed. 

“Peggy.” “Don’t ‘Peggy’ me. What will it hurt? Go get dressed. Throw a cap on or something. I don’t care. You’ve got to get out of this house and have some human interaction.” “I can’t interact with other humans. They all think they know me and they all want something from me.” “Not here.”

You let your head fall back, shifting on the couch. 

“I have fans in London, Peggy.” “Yes, I know. But the people around here … they don’t get starstruck. Did you know that Brad and Angelina used to stay here when they were still together?” “That’s not true.” “It is! I saw them at the pub once or twice.”

You sighed, chewing on your bottom lip. Peggy sighed, walking over and sitting beside you, laying a hand on your knee. 

“What will it hurt?” “No one knows I’m here and I’d really like to keep it that way.” “Absolutely no one knows that you’re here?”

You nodded. 

“Not the press, not even Sharon.”

Peggy raised her eyebrows. 

“Your sister doesn’t even know that you’re here?”

You shook your head. 

“I had to get away. I … I felt like I was drowning. I called you and hopped on the plane.”

Peggy nodded, moving her hand to hold yours. 

“You know you can always come to me. But I really need to get out of this house. As much as I love your cooking, I need greasy fried chips and a glass of wine.”

You smiled, then sighed. 

“Okay. Let me find a hat or something.”

Peggy gave an excited squeal and you laughed, crawling off her couch and heading for your room. 

Steve ducked his head as he followed Bucky and Wanda into the pub. They were huddled together, Wanda’s arm linked with Bucky’s, and he kept leaning in closer to hear what she was whispering to him. Steve felt like a major third wheel, and he slipped his hands in his pockets as he looked around. 

The pub was crowded, but not overrun with people. No one was paying him much attention, something that he was savoring. He enjoyed his fame, but there was something freeing about no one knowing—or at least not caring—who he was.

He nodded his thanks to Bucky when a pint of beer was pressed into his hand, and Steve smiled as he took a sip, then leaned his back against the bar. 

“Pardon me, can I step by you?”

Steve moved to let a dark-haired woman lean over the bar, lifting his head and doing a slow double-take when he saw a woman trying to blend into the background. She was gorgeous, hiding behind a beret-like hat on her head and a chunky scarf around her neck. She seemed familiar for some reason, and Steve took another sip of his beer, smiling when her eyes met his and widened. 

“If I can offer a piece of advice?”

Steve looked back to the dark-haired woman with her attention on the bartender. She looked to him, a demure smile on her painted red lips. 

“Don’t bother.”

Steve raised an eyebrow and she kept that smile. 

“She’s not looking for any sort of male companionship tonight.” “My apologies.” “Don’t worry about it. Just trying to save everyone the heartache.”

Steve had an amused smile on his face when he took another drink. 

“Maybe next time.”

The woman laughed, taking two martini glasses with neon green liquid in her hands. 

“I doubt it, but keep that optimistic streak. You’ll go far with it.”

Steve laughed, nodding to her as she walked back to her friend. Steve took a long drink from his beer, unable to keep his eyes off the woman with the sad eyes, claiming a booth in the far corner with her dark-haired companion. 

You shook your head, laughing out loud at … whatever it was Peggy had just said. You couldn’t remember what it was, but you knew it was something funny. You leaned back in the booth, smiling at her, laughing again when she snorted before she laughed. 

When you’d calmed down and took a sip from the beer she’d gotten you, Peggy leaned forward. 

“Did you know that tall man by the bar has been watching you all night?”

You nodded, swallowing the drink you’d taken. 

“I’m not going to lie. He’s pretty.”

Peggy snorted again, sending the two of you into fits of giggles. She tapped her nails on the table, then pointed at you. 

“You should go talk to him while you get us another round.”

You glanced towards the bar, then shook your head. 

“I’m not looking for anyone right now. God knows I need to be single for a while.” “Or maybe God is sending you a nice little present all wrapped up in a bow.”

Peggy glanced over her shoulder, then shook her head. 

“He’s American.” “Oh, really?” “Mm-hmm. The few words we said to each other, I could tell he was a filthy Yank.”

You laughed, leaning over and patting her arm. She pushed her empty bottle towards you and you groaned as you climbed out of the booth. You made your way to the bar, nodding and smiling at people before you let your arms rest on the bar. 

“I was wondering if you’d ignore me all night.”

You slid your eyes to the left, where the man who’d been watching you was leaning against the bar. You leaned over, speaking in a stage whisper. 

“Contrary to popular belief, I wasn’t paying you that much attention.”

He gave a soft laugh, and you let yourself look at him fully. He was … beautiful. Tall, with dark stubble dusting his cheeks and chin, thick muscles barely contained in his almost ridiculously tight shirt. But it was his eyes that had your attention. The bluest blue was staring back at you, smile lines beside his eyes only making him more attractive. 

“Like what you see, doll?”

You couldn’t stop the snort. 

“‘Doll?’ Are you kidding me right now?”

He started to open his mouth and you laughed, shaking your head.

“Next thing I know, you’ll be calling me a dame or something.”

He winced as he shook his head, taking a sip of his beer. You rolled your eyes. 

“You’re lucky you’re cute, because you’re not the greatest at talking to women.” “You think I’m cute?”

You felt your cheeks warm and you shook your head. He gave a soft laugh, leaning closer to you. 

“I’m Steve.”

You met his eyes, blinking in surprise when it seemed like he honestly didn’t know what your name was. You swallowed, speaking as low as he had. 

“Y/N.” “Nice to meet you.” “You, too.” “Can I buy you a drink?”

You blinked, feeling your head swim. You gave him a smile, leaning closer. 

“I really don’t need another. Don’t tell my cousin, but when she sent me to get us another round, it was always my plan to get us some water.”

Steve gave a quiet laugh. 

“Your secret’s safe with me, doll.”

You shook your head. 

“‘Doll.’ Like I’m a toy. Some little plaything for you.” “Or something pretty and fragile.”

You turned to meet his blue eyes again. 

“Something to be put on display, where everyone can see.”

Steve shook his head, leaning closer to you. 

“Rogers!”

He blew out his breath, glancing over his shoulder. He nodded, turning back to you. 

“Sorry, my friend—“ “It’s okay. It was nice to meet you, Steve.”

You held out a hand and he took your hand in his, bringing it to his lips and kissing your knuckles. You sucked in a breath as he winked at you, letting your hand go as he stepped away, into the crowd. You felt your chest heave with every breath you took, your hand tingling where his lips had touched. You turned around and went back to the bar, shaking your head and gathering your things. Peggy shook her head, reaching out for you. 

“Darling, what is it? Are you alright?” “I want to go. Can we go?”

Peggy nodded, gathering her things and ushering you out into the cool night air. 

Steve kept his hands in his pockets, absently kicking a rock down the sidewalk, ignoring Bucky and Wanda making out beside him. He couldn’t get your face out of his mind, still couldn’t shake the desire to take you in his arms and hold you until that haunted look left your pretty eyes. 

“You do know who you were talking to at the bar, right?”

Steve lifted his head, looking over to Wanda. She had her arms around Bucky, her chin resting on his chest as he held her, his head dipping to nip at her neck. Steve shrugged his shoulders, shaking his head. 

“She said her name was Y/N.”

Wanda smiled. 

“Yeah, Y/N Carter. Only the biggest pop star in the entire universe.”

Bucky lifted his head, shaking it to get Wanda’s hair out of his face. 

“Wait, seriously?”

Steve blinked and Bucky gave a laugh. 

“Damn, son. Nice.”

Steve shook his head and Bucky squeezed Wanda’s sides. 

“Let’s take a bet. How long’s it going to be before we hear the song she writes about him?” “I don’t know, from what I heard, she’s still hung up on that guy from that band. You remember the one?”

Bucky nodded. 

“The Guardians of the Galaxy. Despite the lame-ass name, they’re not as awful as they could be.”

Steve shook his head and Bucky rolled his eyes. 

“Stevie’s stuck in the past when it comes to music. Anything after 1975, he’s iffy on.”

Wanda laughed, taking hold of Bucky’s jacket and pulling him in to kiss him again. Steve lifted his head and gave a breath of relief. 

“Here’s our cab. Thank God.”

Peggy shook her head, taking another sip from her glass of water before pointing at you. 

“Drink it down.” “I’m working on it.” “You don’t have to eat anything, but drink the water. You’ll thank me tomorrow.” “I’m working on it.”

Peggy rolled her eyes, taking another drink. She set her glass in the sink and walked to you, taking hold of your chin and kissing your cheek. 

“Don’t wake me before nine tomorrow or I’ll have to kill you.” “I’m not planning on being awake myself before noon.” “See, this is why I love you.”

You giggled, swatting Peggy’s ass as she made her way down the hall to her bedroom. As soon as she was gone, you pulled your phone from your pocket, pulling up the internet app. You wiggled your head for a moment, then rolled your eyes, typing “Steve Rogers” into the Google search bar. 

Your eyes widened as you saw the many images that popped up, articles galore. You clicked on one article, reading about how he was a Heisman trophy winner, first round draft pick, quarterback for the New York Avengers football team, where he’d led them to the championship game seven different times, winning five of those times. He was just a few years older than you, a mainstay on People magazine’s Sexiest Man Alive list, and as all of the articles you clicked on made a point to announce, he was single. 

You tapped your phone against your hand, lifting it again to flip through the Google images, eyes widening when you saw a shot of him in just his football pants, laughing out loud and feeling your cheeks flush when you ran across a photo of a younger version of him apparently modeling Calvin Klein underwear. You bit your lip, unable to keep the smile from your face. 

The smile faded when you thought of how easy it would be to make a call and have all of his information laid at your feet. You could be texting him right now. All you’d have to do is call your sister. 

You set your phone on the kitchen counter, glancing out the window of Peggy’s little breakfast nook. The moon was high in the sky and you glanced up at it, slowly exhaling as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

You weren’t looking for anything. You had a long line of disastrous relationships you were trying to move past, men you thought you’d be able to build a life with, but in the end, all they wanted was either the notoriety of being with you or for you to cower behind them and build them up. How did you know Steve wasn’t just like all the rest of them?

You couldn’t say for sure, but there was something about him, something that sparked in your heart the first time you looked in his eyes, something that told you he was different than the rest. And knowing that, you also knew you had a choice here. You could pursue him the way you always had, by literally having your people contact his people, or you could let it happen organically, where if you ran into him again, you could talk, and if not, oh well. 

You looked back up at the moon and closed your eyes, giving in to the little girl inside and making a wish. You blinked your eyes open and smiled, nodding your head as you walked towards your bedroom, humming a melody you’d just thought of.

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