#and that's just plain disrespectful and annoying. maybe not right away but maybe a year from now WATCH

[odysseys-end]

Newbie

He could barely hold in his excitement. His senior may have to forgive his disrespectful behavior just once because this discovery is just simply phenomenal. Why, he's probably the only first-year with such forbidden knowledge! Forbidden but precious. If Tsukasa closed his eyes and tried really hard, he could just imagine Tori seething with envy right about now. He has to clasp his hands over his mouth, fearing that he may just say something to ruin this moment.

Never mind the fact that his senior looked only a second away from cursing out his entire bloodline. Judging by the way Sena Izumi's hand tightened on the book he held, he was trying. So maybe Tsukasa shouldn't tease him too much.

Sena Izumi, a former student of Primavera Institute of Magic. Expelled for practising the Dark Arts. Blacklisted by the Diviner of the Sanctuary. It's been years since his banishment from the kingdom, yet here he is, alive and irritable. The portraits of Izumi shown to them did not do any justice to his actual appearance. Yet another stigma that evil has to look ugly or plain. The youth before him is reminiscent of pure, untouched ice.

If Tsukasa were to have encountered his senior wandering the hallways of their school, he wouldn't have associated dark magic with him. Back on track, he came here to learn things from his senior. Magic that couldn't be taught in school, expressly forbidden but tempting all the same. His mentor probably wouldn't scold him, he might even say something along the lines of: magic is a medium to express one's soul and desires. easier to translate than the convoluted nonsense that is human speech!

His mentor would probably laugh like an incredibly annoying goblin.

"If you're just going to stand around like an idiot, just get out of my way instead of wasting my time." Sena Izumi growled. Right.

"Sena-senpai... eek! You don't have to look so scary!" Tsukasa protested when Izumi shot him a venomous glare. It made him want to recoil but if he backed down now, this chance would be gone forever. In record time, he immediately ducks down just as something made contact with the wall behind his head.

"You're resorting to throwing things now?! Are you not dignified, senpai?" exclaimed Tsukasa, aghast. Peeking cautiously at his senior, Tsukasa catches a glimpse of a smile on Izumi's mouth before it's gone. He's still standing there, not a hint of any movement except the book he held earlier is no longer in his hand.

"Look, I did not wake up this morning to get harassed by some rich and pampered neophyte. You're pretty daring to come in here, unaccompanied, Suou Tsukasa-kun." The air turned frigid. A few seconds had merely passed but Izumi had managed to turn this whole floor into a wintry domain. In the corner where he huddled, Tsukasa tried to summon a small ball of flame in his hands. Upon hearing his name, Tsukasa faltered, the feeble attempt at fire fizzled out.

Izumi stalked closer. Tendrils of ice seemed to spread out wherever he stepped. When he was finally in front of Tsukasa, he knelt down. with a small action, he managed to completely dispel whatever fear Tsukasa was beginning to harbor and also evicted him from his domain. Izumi flicked him.

"Go home, reckless brat."

The windows were still open in his dorm room, the curtains fluttering wildly- an after-effect from a teleportation spell. Tsukasa stared blankly at the cold, pale moon. He was sprawled on the floor, with a book in his hand. What just happened? How was he sent back here without alarming the defensive magic the school had around its perimeters? How is he not suffering from any repercussions from coming into contact with black magic when Izumi had approached him and even used glacial magic to touch him-

Oh.

Slowly, he sat up. The book he held was innocent, bound with a cranberry linen cover. The title was embossed in gold letters: Article of Faith, by Sena Izumi and... Tsukinaga Leo. Huh. Every copy of this book had been burned, the Elders claimed that it was teaching aspiring mages to reject the Sanctuary. Then this must be...

Tsukasa flipped through the pages, some sort of trepidation gripped his heart. Countless annotations made by flawless handwriting filled the paper. Most of it was directed at certain passages written by the co-author. I've got the last remaining copy, and it's Sena Izumi's.

"If he wanted to give this to me, he could've done so nicely." He pouted.

[masterserris]

branching timeline where ock doesnt get rebooted and always stays superior spider man. there and done.

character reboots are sadly just. a Thing in comics and no matter how much i hate them (ock and galactus are real good examples) it’s necessary in order to craft some new stories for them too. sometimes.

it really is character murder to go an revert them, it goes completely against their logical growth and what they normally would decide to do, but ya know. ugh

anyways. lifebringer galactus and superior spider-man for all time, im gonna SCREAM.

I JUST REALLY LOVE REDEMPTION ARCS AND HATE IT SO MUCH WHEN THEY GET STEAM ROLLED BC OF OUTSIDE INFLUENCES DICTATING WHERE THE STORY NEEDS TO GO.

 WHEN LOGICALLY IT MAKES NO SENSE IN UNIVERSE AND THEY MAKE DECISIONS THEY NORMALLY WOULD NOT DO.

ESP IF THEY HAVE CANON WAYS TO GET OUT OF SAID SITUATION.

(cloning, powers, allies, ect. like damn just stop and think and use one of these!! YOU HAVE ACCESS TO THEM SO USE THEM!)

[band--psycho]

Bucky Barnes x Reader-The Lost King(Royal AU)

A/n: This is my second entry for @girl-next-door-writes bingo writing challenge (this is probably one of the longest fics I’ve written) I hope you all enjoy it!!

Streams of sunlight began to flood into the room, the brightness of the light causing Y/n to stir in her sleep as her eyes fluttered open. Normally, she’d marvel at what a beautiful morning it was but today was different. Today, she couldn’t help but feel the dull ache in her heart as she turned to see Bucky sleeping peacefully beside her. Lightly she caressed his face, careful not to disturb what was bound to be the last peaceful sleep he’d have for a while. She tried to push the fear and worry that filled her head but in truth she was terrified, the war between their country and King Schmidts had grown fiercer and bloodier over the past few days. Bucky, wanted to show  a display of hope and strength to our people and was going to ride out to the battle with a large number of soldiers in just a small number of hours. Of course Y/n supported his decision, she knew it would give their people hope, hope which so desperately needed to be shown in these dark times but she knew what Kinf Schmidt and his men were like from the reports she’d read and the gossip that swam round the castle; these people were cut throat,ruthless and bloodthirtsy. She knew Bucky was a talented fighter, there was no denying that but still the fear that he may not return from this battle seemed to be permanently ingrained in her mind.   

“Good morning, sweetheart,” Bucky whispered drowsily, dragging Y/n from her thoughts. 

“Morning,” Y/n whispered before lightly pressing her lips to his. The kiss was soft but yet it seemed to convey all the emotions Y/n didn’t trust herself to say, maybe it was because Bucky knew her so well or maybe it was because he felt a familiar feeling of dread himself. He knew what he was doing was risky but it needed to be done. 

“I know, sweetheart, I know” Bucky cooed once they pulled away from the kiss, instantly seeing the sadness in her eyes. He knew that there were no words that would ease the worry from her mind so he did the only thing that he could do. He held her. He pulled her into his embrace, his hands lightly roaming over her body, not in a sexual way but in a soothing one. The pair of them stayed like that, wrapped up in each other's arms, silently comforting each other, right up until there was a dull knock at the door. Both of them wanted nothing more than to just stay in that moment but they couldn’t. It was time and they both knew it. 

“Promise me you’ll come back to me,” the pain in Y/n's voice was enough to make his heartbreak.

“I’ll always come back to you, my love,” he soothed, holding her even closer than before. 

 “Always,” he repeated like a mantra, placing a final kiss on her lips.

“I love you” 

“I love you too,” she replied back with tears in her eyes, coldness washing over her body as he pulled away from the embrace, vanishing behind the door to make his way down to the armoury.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n stood leaning against the stone railing of balcony, her gaze locked onto the horizon which she had watched the love of her life disappear into. It had been six months since she said her final farewell to the man she loved and she had been out here everyday since, no matter the weather.She remembered watching him the day he left, she had stood in this very spot, fear and anxiety plaguing her thoughts. She recalled the way the sun had glinted of his pristine armour, of the way he spoke and inspired his men, lifting their spirits from the back of his noble steed as the animal trotted along the lines.He had stopped in front, looking over the men following him as his horse pawed restlessly at the ground. His short hair was neat, every strand styled in place the way he liked, and despite the distance she remembered the spark in his eyes and the familiar smirk upon his face as the battalion of men cheered for him, ready and willing to follow their king into battle. 

He had waved to her, blew a kiss in her direction before setting off. She had stood in place for what felt like hours, watching his figure grow smaller and smaller until he vanished out of sight altogether. 

His goal and wish was for his actions to reignite hope amongst their people, and for a time it had. But it only lasted so long, they say no news is good news, but for most the disappearance of their king and his gallant men had only increased their desperation  and despair, one in particular.

“Your Majesty,” as though on que the recent bane of her existence made himself known. Sighing, Y/N turns her head towards the voice she and come to loath.

“Lord Stark, can I help you with something?” She inquired with a curt tone, already knowing what he was here to discuss with her. She had been avoiding him for this very reason, and it seems he had clicked onto her intentions. She was in no mood for this.  

She hears him sigh in response, as he, her royal advisor comes to stand a few feet behind her, “You know why I’m here your majesty. We didn’t get the chance to finish our discussion.”

“On the contrary  Lord Stark, I believe we have, on multiple occasions now. What you mean to say is that you’re unsatisfied with my answer and wish for me to reconsider my decision.” she corrected sternly, trying her hardest to maintain her composure

“I meant no disrespect my lady, I’m just saying it would be wise to-“

“To what? To marry again?”Y/N cuts him off before he can finish

“We’ve been over this Your Majesty, marrying again would protect you and it may even form a new alliance,” His words and tone felt like a dagger in her heart, how many times had they discussed this. Y/N curses herself at the feeling of tears building up, fighting to keep them in as she looks to the sky and takes a deep breath, calming herself. He was out there still, he had to be, why was it so hard for others to have faith in him.

“You’re talking as if he’s dead,”

“I cannot even begin to understand how hard this is for you-“

Pity, his tone reeked of it, if she turned to him now she knew she’d see it plain as day upon his face. He spoke to her as though she were a child, one that needed coddling and protecting. She knew the kingdom needed a king, they needed security and an heir and she had been doing her best. For him above all else. He had done so much for her, he had given her his life and his heart and in turn she had done the same and she refused to give up on him now. 

“He’s not dead, he’s out there somewhere.” Lord Stark merely sighed in response to her again, though this time there was an irritated tone to it. She could tell her stubbornness was annoying him, but she couldn’t bring herself to care, he had pushed her past that months ago.

“I understand your need for hope.” 

She couldn’t help but let a humourless laugh slip past her lips as she turned to look at her advisor. Head high and shoulders back, she knew he would see the redness in her eyes, but above all else she wanted him to see her determination and strength. Approaching him, she mutters, “Hope which you should share for your king.” Not giving him a chance to say anything else, Y/N walks towards the doors to the balcony, hope lost was as good as admitting defeat, in accepting that that which you have faith in no longer invokes to inspire you. Bucky deserves more than that.,”

~~~~~~~~

Lord Rogers, much like Y/n refused to believe that the king was dead.. Regret and guilt tended to fill his mind when he would search him, he hated that he didn’t go with him to the battle. Ever since they were boys, the two of them would always be there for each other, protecting each other from foes. As a young boy, Steve didn’t have the best life, but Bucky was always there to defend him and no one would dare harm a prince, those that dared to try normally ended up flat on their arse. When Bucky inherited the throne he gave Steve a title, land and with that came some long overdue respect. But inheriting the throne led to Bucky having to face harsher foes than just the local bullies and of course through every battle Steve was there, protecting his friend the same way Bucky had protected him for all those years before. This time it was different though, Bucky insisted that Steve stayed at the castle to keep an eye on Y/n, to protect her if anything happened to him in the battle. It worried him but he also understood Buckys reasoning so didn’t try to fight him on the matter.Steve spent days at a time searching the surrounding forests and mountains for any sign of the king's survival, only returning to the castle to check on the Queen, knowing she, like him, was struggling. But hers was for a different reason, he knew she was being pressured by her royal advisor, Lord Stark to re-marry and it pained Steve to admit it but Lord Stark had a point, their country was vulnerable without a king, Y/n was an excellent queen, there was no denying that but men from other lands failed to show her the respect she deserved without a king next to her. Steve knew Bucky was alive, he knew in his heart that he was alive,they were like brothers and he Steve was determined to find him.

Steve was riding through the woods on the border of the land, it was an area he hadn’t been to since the king first went missing. In the distance Steve saw another man on horseback, instantly his guard was up, prepared for the possibility of an attack. A few seconds passed and the figure started to become clearer but the man fell off his horse before Steve could make out any detail or features of the man. Steve dismounted his horse almost instantly and made his way over cautiously toward the man. As he got closer to the figure he noticed the all time familiar features of his best friend; his hair looked long and matter, his clothes were torn and he was covered in blood. Worry flooded over Steve’s face as he knelt down next to Bucky, letting out a small sigh of relief when he realised the blood wasn’t Buckys. Carefully he picked up the king's unconscious body and placed it on his own horse before bolting back to the castle.

~~~~~~~

A frustrated sigh left Y/ns lips as she entered her bedroom. She’d spent most of the day trying to calm the Lords who were getting more agitated by the day as well as dealing with the constant hints Lord Stark was making about finding a new suitor. She hated this. She hated being like this, passed around like she was a piece of meat to any king that would help the country. She knew in both her head and her heart that she would never remarry, if Bucky wasn’t found then she would rule the country alone like she had been doing with the hope that sooner or later the Lords would respect her the way they did Bucky. She all but collapsed on the bed she once shared with Bucky, her eyes slowly drifted shut as she got lost in the memories of her and Bucky. 

Y/n nearly jumped out of her skin when she heard someone burst through the door, to her relief though it was only Steve. However his boldness was something that caught her attention, normally Steve was such a gentleman and would always wait to be summoned into the room. 

“Steve? Are you okay?” She asked, confusion racing through her brain as her eyes scanned over Steve, searching for answers. 

“I found him,” those words were enough to have Y/n darting out of her bed and grabbing her robe before following Steve to the infirmary, a mixture of anxiety and relief filling her her thoughts. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When she first saw him in his bloodstained clothes, she instantly thought the worst. She thought he was dead. But when she saw his chest slowly rising and falling she felt relief wash over her. He was alive. All of those months of waiting for him and he was here. He was really here, back with her. Hours passed and Y/n was still sat by Bucky's side, not wanting to leave his side ever again, she never wanted to let him go ever again. A few more hours passed before Bucky's blue eyes slowly fluttered open. Shock and terror filled his eyes when he first opened them, until he saw Y/n's face, as soon as he saw her face he felt all of the pain and terror fade away. He slowly raised his hand to her face, trying to work out if he’d wandered into a dream, but this felt more real than any dream he’d had in the months that’d passed. 

“You’re safe, you’re home,” Y/n cooed, stroking some of the stray strands of hair away from his face. Her voice was  soft and sweet just like he remembered it and at her touch he felt like he was being brought back to life, like all the terrors of the past six months hadn’t happened. 

“You came back to me,” she soothed, caressing his face as she lightly placed her forehead against his. 

“Of course I did,” Bucky whispered, moving his head slightly to press a kiss onto her palm, “I had a promise to keep.”

(Credit to the gif owners)

Tag List: 

@sarcasticallywitty15 @abadamn @wiccanmetallicrose @little-diable @xacatapelsyx @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @amythedvdhoarder @chrissquares​

[fruitymimi]

My Darling - Light Yagami x Reader

Reader is a detective taking over the Kira case and Light likes being called Kira...

A/N: ok so yall... this might be a little much but im testing some other things like the posession and what not in this fic... cause i wanted to make free bird sort of dark, but i didn’t know if yall were comfortable with that. lmk tho. and before i even put it in the warnings, light mentions the reader calling him “my god” and this in no way is to disrespect any religion or make anyone uncomfortable. purely just light yagami’s god complex.

Also I promise I’m gonna write Free Bird soon, just tell me how dark I’m allowed to go with it cause... I can give y’all crazy Hawks..

warnings: DEATH NOTE SPOILERS even tho its been 14 years, light has reader call him “my god” and kira, lots of degradation, mentions of ryuzaki’s death, light and reader talk about light’s relationship with misa, so this includes cheating and talk about cheating, i think thats all? ill update if i notice anything else

pairing: Light Yagami x Reader

words: 3307... the way this is the longest story i’ve posted...

“It just doesn’t make sense. Why would Kira leave such a big opening for us both?” Y/N squinted their eyes, looking down at the table full of supposed “evidence” that was left after Ryuzaki’s death. Y/N was the only person Ryuzaki truly trusted to take his place, even though he always said he trusted Light, he still had his lurking suspicions. 

“Maybe Kira wanted someone to find out..” Light said, looking at the back of their neck, his lip caught between his teeth. He’d always felt this way about Y/N, always had a hidden lust for them ever since he first laid eyes on them when he was taking his exams. His attitude would be different towards Y/N, always seemed more patient and kind with them, but annoyed and arrogant towards others. 

Y/N shook their head, “you know, Light,” Y/N turned to face him, crossing their arms over their chest, “sometimes I wonder how I lost my valedictorian spot to you in highschool,” they jokingly teased, poking his chest. They could have sworn his eyes glowed red, but they were instantly comforted with his regular face, his typical heartthrob-like appearance. 

Light chuckled, putting his hand behind his neck, a bright smile on his lips. “You know sometimes I think a bit too fast,” Light said, his eyes forming crescents as he smiled. 

They hummed. “Maybe you got your valedictorian spot because you used your smile to your advantage. I remember that was how you got out of classes and late slips,” they rambled, turning back around to face the table of evidence. 

 Light licked his lips, watching when they bent over the table.  “Ah… You noticed?” he asked, “I’d say you were flirting with me, hm?” Light tilted his head, noticing how they froze. 

“Light, you know I couldn’t do that to Misa.” Y/N said, shaking their head as they went back to their work. “You know I couldn’t hurt a friend..” they mumbled. 

Light let out a sigh, rolling his eyes. “It’s always ‘Misa this..’ or ‘Misa that’. Who cares how she feels?” Light hummed, placing his hand on top of Y/N’s, meeting their gaze. 

Light has thought about this before. If he wanted to date Y/N, he didn't have to tell them about his true identity, though Light has always thought about how amazing it would be to have his darling on top of him, calling him Kira. It would feed his ego, make him feel like the most powerful man on earth.

Y/N pulled their hand away, tilting their head. “Shouldn’t you..? You’re her boyfriend.” They reminded, shaking their head once more. 

“Mm, not for long..” Light whispered, leaning against the table with his head cocked back. “I don’t want her. I want someone else.” Light told Y/N, turning his head to face them again. 

Y/N blinked, staring into Light’s eyes. It was a habit they had, a habit that developed during the beginning days of the Kira investigation when they were accusing Light of the murders and it was almost impossible to read his deadpan expression. But when they looked into his eyes at this very moment, it was almost like they shined red. Almost a twinkle of scarlet. 

“What do you mean? Misa has plans to marry you, Light. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was naming your future kids as we speak-“ 

They were cut off by Light moving behind them, his lips awfully close to their ear as he opened his mouth to speak. “I said what I said.” he told them, “And I meant what I said.” Light ran his hand up Y/N’s arm, looking at their reflection in the computer screen in front of him with hooded eyes. “Now, Y/N, answer me this… Do you want something with me? All you have to do is nod that pretty head of yours and I’ll be all over you..” He whispered in their ear. 

Y/N hesitated for a moment. They were “good” friends with Misa, by good, it means they have had their fair share of insults thrown back and forth due to Light’s obvious difference in tone and emotion towards the two. Misa always suspected that Light & Y/N were up to something, more importantly, the poor girl was so paranoid that she thought Y/N was going to take her precious Light, yet she never acted on her suspicions due to Light always being with Ryuzaki during the day, she just assumed they didn’t have anything to hide. Either way, Misa or not, Y/N wanted Light just as much as Light wanted them, it was all a question of morality. If Misa walked in and saw her boyfriend pressed against the person who was now the head investigator of the Kira case, Y/N was sure the girl would freak, though Light has always told Misa that if anything were to happen to Y/N and their family, Light’s relationship with Misa would change in an instant and he wouldn’t think twice.

Y/N bit down on their lip, nodding their head. “I want it..” they mumbled, closing their eyes when they heard Light laugh, that pretty little laugh he always did. 

“Good choice.” Light said, spinning them around. Light looked down at them, pressing his lips against theirs. In all honesty, Light had never done anything intimately with feelings behind it. His body felt like it was on fire after discovering what it feels like to actually enjoy the kiss they shared. 

Y/N wrapped his arms around Light’s neck, leaning into their kiss as they fluttered their eyes shut. 

Light pulled away after a few seconds, his hand finding its way to the back of Y/N’s neck. “Pretty soon Misa will be out of the picture,” he hummed, his free hand finding the bottom of their shirt. “And you and I will be able to be together without having to worry about her,” Light tugged the thin fabric off of their body, tongue trailing down to wrap around their hardened nipple. 

Y/N arched into his touch, a gasp escaping their clenched teeth. “What do you mean Misa will be out of the picture..?” they asked, brushing his hair back. 

Light’s eyes flickered up to meet Y/N’s, a smile pulling at the corners of his lips as he took their nipple into his mouth. Light took the other nipple between his fingers, leaving Y/N’s question unanswered. 

Again, Y/N could have sworn that they saw a red glow in his eyes when he looked up and smiled. 

Light pulled off of their nipple with a pop. “I want you to get on your knees for me,” Light said to them, standing up from his kneeled position. 

Y/N instantly did what he said, unbuckling his pants, allowing them to fall to his ankles. Y/N looked up at him, tugging at his plain black boxers to expose his half-hard cock. Light sucked in a deep breath, his hands coming to Y/N’s hair. 

“Be good for me and choke on my cock..” Light whispered, watching them wrap their lips around his tip. He bit down on his lip, his hips arching forward to meet Y/N’s mouth, pushing himself farther down his throat. He watched his cock disappear down their throat. He gripped their hair, keeping their head in place as he thrusted his hips back and forth into them. He loved hearing them choke on his cock, it made him feel so powerful. “That’s fucking right, baby… Such a good little whore for me…”

They looked up at him through his lashes, keeping their mouth open for Light to use. Light made eye contact with them, keeping their hair from getting in their way. Light took in a sharp breath through his teeth, humming in approval. “So skilled using that pretty little mouth of yours… Keep doing it… Just like that..” he said to them. “Imagine what Misa would think… How do you think she would react if she walked into this room and saw you on your knees for me, taking all my dick down that pretty throat of yours… Think she’d be upset? ...Think she’d snap?” Light mumbled the last part, his eyes almost rolling back as he watched them.

Y/N hummed around him, the vibrations caused his dick to twitch in their mouth.. Y/N squinted their eyes, they knew Light knew something they didn’t, but Y/N would never think that he was Kira or something. To be honest, they never really know what they would do if Light turned out to be him and Ryuzaki was right. They always got so defensive and annoyed whenever Ryuzaki would even bring up the accusation. Y/N doesn’t think they could even be mad at Light, they loved him too much. He was basically their best friend.

“How does it feel, hm? Being below me, sucking my cock like the good little pet you are…” He watched them roll their tongue against his tip, swirling it over his slit. “Worship my cock like it’s your god, slut. You should be working but you’re mouth wide open all for me… It just shows I have so much control over you, yeah? I can tell you to do anything and you’d do it for me without hesitation?”

They nodded, maintaining eye contact with Light as he thrusted in and out of their mouth. 

“Making all those lewd noises… Oh, I’m sorry. You can’t control how dick depraved you are,” Light laughed, “ When I fuck into that pretty hole, I want you to scream my name, darling. I want you to cry ‘cause you feel so fucking good getting split open on my cock.”

Light hummed, “Get up. I want you to lean over against the table. And pull off your pants..” Light said to them, pulling away from their mouth. They did as he said, leaning over the table how he wanted, bent over for Light. 

Light walked over to them, rubbing his tip against their hole. “Aww… Look at that… Already stretched and ready… You’ve been waiting for a fat cock to fuck that pretty hole, hm? Before you came here, you fucked yourself, huh?” Light teased, slowly pushing his tip against them, “Well, my darling… Who does this body belong to now?”

“You..” Y/N whispered, laying their head down against the cold table. 

Light gripped their hips, pushing into them with one hard thrust. “Say it louder. I don’t think you convinced me yet..” he said. 

“My body’s all yours, Light. All yours to play with and fuck..” They told him, closing their eyes with a moan. “It feels so fucking good, Light..”

Light hummed, placing his hand on their lower back to keep them stable. “So fucking tight… that pretty little hole of yours is taking all of me… As it should..” he mumbled, beginning at a decent pace.

They felt their eyes cross at the feeling of his cock, gripping onto the edge of the table. “All for you, Light!” they moaned out when they felt him brush against their sensitive spot, toes curling. 

Light chuckled. “Ah… I found it..” he whispered, angling his hips to rock against that area over and over. “I can’t wait for you to cum all over this cock… Have you acting like a bitch in heat. Look back at me when I fuck you. I want to see your face… That pretty expression.”

They looked back at him, biting down on their lip to conceal the noises spilling out of their mouth. 

“Be as loud as you want, darling. Let everybody know that I’m the one making you feel this good. Let them know that your body is mine.” Light snapped his hips into them, quickening his pace. “Such a good little bitch, yeah?”

“I don’t want-… I don't want Misa to walk in!” Y/N arched their back, feeling tears fill at the brim of their eyes. They could feel the burn of the stretch from his cock still, but it was a feeling that they absolutely loved. They always dreamed about what it would be like to have Light stretching them open. 

Light pulled their hair, pressing them against his chest. “I don’t fucking care. Let her walk in. You should be grateful for my cock. You know Misa always is ready for me and asks everyday, but I always say no because I want to be buried inside of you. Don’t fucking act like an ungrateful bitch, take what’s given to you. Say you’re sorry.”

Y/N nodded, the tears spilling out of their eyes. “I’m sorry, Light..” 

“No, Y/N… What are you sorry for?” he asked, his hand coming down to smack their ass, watching the jiggle. 

“I’m sorry for being ungrateful. Thank you for your cock..” They whimpered. 

“I want you to call me your God..” Light whispered in their ear, “Say you’re sorry, ‘My God’.” Light told them. 

They looked up at him, cheeks soaked in tears. “...What do you mean?” They asked, still gripping at the table with sore knuckles. 

Light bit down on his lip to conceal a smile. “Oh… I forgot.. Cute little detective doesn’t know what I’m talking about..” Light would be lying if he said this conversation wasn’t egging him on, lying if he said the thought of Y/N being stretched on his cock and not knowing his true identity didn’t excite him. 

Y/N bit down on their lip, rocking their hips backward to meet his thrusts. “I-I don’t understand what you’re talking about..” Y/N whimpered, looking up at him through their lashes. 

Light let out a deep breath, humming into their ear. “You being so oblivious is so sexy, you know..” Light continued moving his hips, feeling Y/N clench around him. “What if I told you…” Light took his sweet time punctuating each of his words with a rough thrust, looking down at them, “What if I told you that the man who’s fucking into this tight hole of yours knew something you didn’t about Kira, hm?”

Y/N winced at the feeling, “If you have affiliations then-- fuck, then you should have told me, Light. You know how important this case was to Ryuz-”

“I don’t have affiliations with Kira, darling…” Light leaned down, mostly for dramatic effect. He took Y/N’s jaw into his hand, making them look up in the reflection of the computer screen. Y/N opened their eyes, looking up at their two moving bodies, listening to his voice and the sound of skin slapping against skin. He rolled his hips into him, hitting deeper areas as he breathed heavily into their ear.

“I am Kira.”

Y/N looked at him in the computer reflection. “Light don’t.. Joke around with me like that…” His eyes were doing that red thing again.

Light hummed. “I felt you clench around me, darling. Does that simple idea excite you? Getting fucked by someone you’ve been chasing for so, so long, only to end up at his mercy… If you tell on me, you’ll have no choice but to tell them how you found out and what you were doing to find this out. Imagine how disgusted the press would be if they found out you were spread open for Kira’s cock, hm? No… Imagine how disgusted Ryuzaki is in you... “ Light chuckled.

Y/N moaned out at his words, smacking a palm over their mouth as they went wide eyed. Something about the particular situation was sending them into a frenzy. Their sex spasming around Light, legs going weak and shaky as a band snapped in their stomach, orgasm washing over their body without warning. They knew it was wrong, but they were too caught in the moment to stop or prevent it. They wanted Light so badly for so long, the fact that he admitted to being Kira was only aiding the burning lust for him. They relaxed into his hand that was still holding his jaw, broken whimpers falling from their bruised lips.

“I knew you’d get off to the thought like a fucking slut… So do it. Moan my name as I fuck you into overstimulation, have that body aching for more. Gonna fuck you until you can’t see straight, gonna make sure you know who owns this pretty body. I’m gonna make sure you know that only I, Kira, can make you cum like that…” He whispered into their ear, his eyes still staring at them in the computer’s reflection.

Y/N’s face burned, eyes hooded as they panted. “Fuck me, Kira… Please… I’m all yours…” Y/N said, watching his lips turn into a smile and his cheeks flush red instantly, “It turns me on knowing that you’re Kira and you own my body…” They kept going, “I want you to fill me with your cum, make me remember who owns me even after you pull out. I want to feel you for days, Kira..”

Light let out a grunt, closing his eyes as he felt his orgasm approaching. It was something about Y/N calling him Kira that made his knees go weak. Hearing Kira always made Light feel some type of way, but hearing Y/N moan out the name sent shivers down Light’s spine. It was like the simple name was at the top of some made up hierarchy in his head, hearing someone call him Kira while they were bent over for his cock, begging for his cum made him feral.

He bit down on Y/N’s neck as he came, his hips stuttering, making his thrusts sloppy. He let out a string of curses, his chest heaving against Y/N’s back. “So fucking good for me..” he hiccuped, his hands still gripping Y/N’s jaw tightly. He finally let it go, looking at the pretty handprint left on their skin, the same on their hips.

Y/N couldn’t believe what they just did, but somehow it just made them want more. They turned around onto their back, gripping Light’s shirt collar. “Keep going, please..” They begged, looking up at him with glossy eyes and tear marked cheeks.

Light laughed, his hands finding their hips again as he slid back into them. “I knew you were a slut, but I didn’t think you were this slutty,” Light looked down at them, finding a rhythm in his thrusts, “Getting off to the fact that I’m a criminal, one you’ve spent so much time trying to trace… And all this time, he was right in front of you. Well, I guess right on top of you now, huh?” He chuckled, watching their face twist in pleasure.

Y/N nodded, eyes crossing as he spoke. “You’re so fucking big, Kira..”

Light moved his hands to their cheeks, roughly pressing his lips against theirs, moaning into their mouth as he slid his tongue between their lips. 

He continued his hip thrusts, Y/N’s whimpers and moans spilling into his mouth. 

“Gonna cum for me again?” Light asked, looking into their eyes. 

They nodded, looking back at him. “I wanna cum..” they said, pulling him into another kiss. 

“Cum with me then..” he said, quickening his hips. Light never felt any better, he was in pure ecstasy, knowing he was able to fuck the person he’d been fantasizing about for years, and they even get off to Light’s obvious god complex. He couldn’t ask for more. 

They both came, pressing against each other as they moaned in unison. 

After a little while, Light sat up and looked down at Y/N, stroking their cheek with his thumb, a smile on his lips.  

“You know, baby… We should do this again sometime.”

[chrisevansgoodgirl]

red, white, blues in the skies, summer's in the air and baby, heaven's in your eyes

summary: Can you write a daddy kink and spanking fic with Steve? Hes all about it at first but then all hell breaks lose🥵🥵 You know you said somewhere that Steve's so respectful when fucking you and so THOROUGH. Thank you😘😘 --requested by @donutloverxo

i just want to take a moment to thank you so much for messaging me a while back when my friend moved to california. it was a sad night for me but your messages honestly made me feel better. even the ransom one, which i still need more details on. is he okay? i feel like he would cry. anyway, hope you like this!

warnings: everything. anal. choking. spanking. biting, mentions of blood maybe. don’t judge me. hair pulling. breath play. major daddy shit, you know, the usual.

pairing: steve rogers x reader

a/n: so sorry for any typos! i am about to be late for a tattoo appointment! and for that reason, I know i missed some of the people who asked me to tag them in my chris evans fics so i apoloize! so if i did pls message me and i promise i will add you to my tag list in my phone asap!

The question of how you got here—bent over Steve’s thighs, your ass propped up, stripped naked—could have been given many, varying answers, depended on who you asked. Steve would claim it was attitude, sheer disrespect. You would credit it to him not paying enough attention to you. Why you got here, that only had one answer. Because you wanted to be here.

It started last night. You were out with Steve, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, and Okoye. Okoye and Bucky were, when drunk, very simply, philosophical hippies. They wanted to talk about the universe and how we were all destroying the planet and each other. Sam just got plain annoying and needed to annoy Wanda. It was the weirdest thing, he just needed to get on her nerves. He would get competitive about who was drinking more, he would challenge her to anything. Darts, once, a race back to the compound another. That ended terribly, but neither seemed capable of recalling that past a certain level of alcohol intake.

That left Steve, this authoritative presence—always able to get you wet, but when you were drinking, your friends were surrounding you, acting like children, and he was just there, you were hopeless. He was strong and always so sure of himself, that was what you loved most about him.

Everyone was scattered around the bar. You had disappeared for the restroom and once you got out, Wanda and Sam wrangled you into a conversation about who was a better lead on missions.

Steve was at the table, his phone in sight because he was Captain fucking America. He was the most important man in existence and he always needed to be available for his country, or the world, more accurately. That used to be an issue, before Thanos, before they fixed everything. That used to strain your relationship, never knowing when he was going to be called away. It was rare now, so rare, but his habits were tough to break. He had a beer bottle in his hands, sipping here and there, but mostly, he was watching you. Only you. He came out to be a babysitter, but it was barely a job he took seriously.

He just wanted to be with you.

You made your way to him after it seemed Wanda and Sam had forgotten you were there at all. He set his beer down on the table and took your hips. It was a move of pure control, you couldn’t get away from him, but you also couldn’t get closer to him. “What do you say? Should we call it a night?”

“It’s been an hour,” he pointed out.

“I want you to fuck me.”

He lifted his eyebrows. “That’s why you haven’t been drinking much.”

“I missed you, daddy.” Daddy? It was a key to the lock that sometimes was Steve Rogers. Was there anything you couldn’t get him to do while you were calling him daddy?

“How much?”

You scoffed. “What?”

“How much did you miss me?”

“What kind of question is that? I miss you a lot when you’re gone. I ache until you’re back home, falling asleep with me, waking up with me. I understand that you’re a Cancer but you’re being so extra right now.”

“No, I’m just being curious.”

“Do you need me to show you how much I missed you?”

“What if I do?”

“Then I will do anything you ask,” you guaranteed, “I would get on my knees right now, daddy. I would let everyone watch me choke on your cock, let them all watch you fuck my face.”

He nodded once. “I don’t think such a grand display is necessary. Especially given that I could just watch you fucking a toy last night, despite my clear instructions that you were not allowed to.”

Your face flushed. “You…were watching me?”

So, it had been a mutual decision to set up a camera in the bedroom. When he was gone and he could call, it just made phone sex easier. When he came home, that sex was always something else. You liked watching it from time to time. However, he was not supposed to be using it to make sure you weren’t breaking rules! That wasn’t fair, that was a major invasion of privacy.

“Yes, I was watching. I missed my baby girl, wanted to see her beautiful face, her stunning fucking body.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Were you going to lie to me?” he questioned. “If I came home and asked you if you had listened to me, what would you have said?”

You glared. “I guess we’ll never know.” You turned on your heels to return to Sam and Wanda, but he grabbed your arm and yanked you back to him.

“Daddy didn’t tell you that you could walk away.”

“Steve,” you warned.

He scoffed. “So, you messed up and now you���re going to be a brat with me?”

“We’re not doing this here.”

“No?” he feigned confusion, reaching for his phone. He tapped the screen a mere three times before turning it to you.

Right—you had stupidly let him talk you into shoving a vibrator in your pussy before you headed out. You’d thought that just meant he missed you incredibly. Clearly not. “Don’t,” you said.

He scoffed. “Baby, I know you didn’t just tell me what to do.”

You glanced back to make sure your friends were preoccupied. “I don’t want to do this tonight, okay? I’m tired and I missed you, you were gone for a long time and I just wanted you to come home so we could spend the night together and have fun. I didn’t think you were going to invade my privacy—”

“Invade your privacy?” he interjected. “You have no privacy, doll, because you’re mine. Normally, you’re fine with that. But you were misbehaving and you need to be punished, so now you suddenly want to pretend it’s a problem? Your dramatics won’t save you tonight.”

He knew you well. And you knew him, he wasn’t going to drop this game. If you said no for an entire year—which, just to be clear, you did not have the ability to do—he would just punish you that very second you finally said yes because he could hold a grudge like it was nothing. Better to get on with it, before he decided to just stop all sexual activity. “Fine. What first?”

“Would you have lied to me?”

“Technically, no.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Can’t wait to hear this one.”

“Well, you always know when I’m lying, so is it lying?”

“Yes, it is. Don’t say something to me if it’s not true.”

You finally moved closer, taking one of his hands in both of yours. He watched you carefully, ready to stop you if you made a single move he didn’t like. You turned his hand and kissed his palm several times. “I love you.”

He scoffed. “And I love you. That doesn’t mean I’m not spanking you until your ass is several different shades of red.”

You huffed. “Well, can we get it over with?”

“No,” he scoffed. “Definitely not.”

You wanted to roll your eyes, but you knew that would only provoke more of this nonsense.

He turned to the phone again.

“Steve, not in front of everyone—” your words cut off with a yelp before you pressed your hand flat over your lips, desperately trying to silence the sounds you were making. The toy lying against your skin, set just right thanks to the very tiny, tight panties he placed you in, abruptly began to vibrate at a speed you were not prepared for.

Steve caught your arm and kept you steady. “Don’t call me Steve again,” he directed. “Not tonight, doll.”

You only let your hand slip when you couldn’t handle it anymore and needed to speak, not when you had the confidence you wouldn’t humiliate yourself. “Daddy, please—”

“Already begging to come?” He turned it up and one of your legs buckled, he kept a hold on you, mistrusting your ability to stand on your own.

“No, no,” you blurted out. “Stop, please—”

“Apologize.”

You snorted, eyes widening when you realized what you had just done. “I’m—”

And once more, the speed picked up. You grabbed the edge of the table for balance even though you knew he wouldn’t let you fall. You shot him a desperate look and he finally took pity on you, turning off the vibrator all together.

“You’re in for a rough night,” he informed you.

You pretended that was the last thing you wanted to hear, you pretended that you were upset, annoyed, exhausted. That was so far from reality. It had been a while since he went all out to punish you, you almost forgot how much you liked it. But standing there, hoping no one knew what was going on, you were quickly reminded.

Only, when you got home, you didn’t get your rough night. Well, not the one you wanted but his satisfied smirk told you this was what he had always meant. He watched you undress and remove your makeup, then he spent a cruel amount of time just kissing you everywhere, except the one place you needed him the most.

He tied your wrists and ankles to the bedpost. You were sure he was going to fuck you, make you so stupid and obedient that a sincere apology would just fall from your lips. You were wrong.

Instead, Steve elected to get himself off several times and cover you with his cum. You weren’t complaining about that, you loved feeling it on your skin. Your issue was when he untied you and told you to get in the shower before you both turned in for the night. He didn’t even get in with you.

While you were in the bathroom, he took the liberty of picking out what you were going to wear. You couldn’t be much of a tease in a simple oversized t-shirt—which wasn’t his—and leggings. You kept your back to him the entire night, but he circled his arm around you and held you like he was scared he was going to lose you, regardless of your clear anger.

It didn’t end there. When you woke up, he kissed you. It was the kind of kiss that always prefaced something, it was the kind of kiss he always gave you when he came home from a mission—a message of ‘I missed you’.

But as you were pushing on his stomach to get him on his back, he pulled away. He explained to you that he was still upset that you disobeyed him. He gave you the option, he could spank you now and fuck you later, or he would wait until you apologized and meant it.

It was an awful way to wake up, added to the frustration of the night before, your response was rude and vulgar. He merely smirked, kissed your forehead, and slipped out of bed.

Training shirtless in December. Getting way too close whenever he needed to walk by you or around you. Constantly touching you or doing things with his hands when he knew you were watching because he knew you were addicted to his fucking hands. He was shameless. And mean. And you were limited on options because you needed to have sex with this man! But you also wanted to keep your pride intact.

It was like this for several days and just one night less. He would torture you in front of everyone because he knew you weren’t going to act out. Then, the nights were strict. He made you shower alone, made you dress yourself in bland, old clothing, and then it was nothing but actual sleep.

The night it all changed was another night out, only it was a Stark party and that meant the whole gang was going. He couldn’t tell you what to wear if you avoided him all day, so you did. You spent all your time with Wanda and Nat. It was an obscenely early breakfast, then shopping, then brunch because alcohol was needed, and more shopping, up until the team was getting ready for another—undoubtedly—eventful outing.

In your skin-tight, tiny pink dress, Steve was slipping. You could see it in the way he looked at you, in the way his hands were fisted at his sides, his set jaw, and his squared shoulders. Control was fleeting and you were nothing short of smug, which only made him more determined to fight back.

He drove you to Tony’s because you both were trying to appear normal to everyone else. They always made their jokes about the games you two played, so discretion was a must. The aspect of getting caught and not just blatantly being shameless also played a role behind your secrecy.

He inquired about your day because he wanted you to admit what you did. Instead, you were almost wholly honest, you told him that you wanted to spend time with the girls. He didn’t buy it, but he wasn’t going to call you out, not while you were alone. You took advantage of his silence and divulged secrets told to you that you probably shouldn’t have—but this was Steve, he would never tell a soul.

“Wanda says Vision is terrible at going down on her.”

He shot you a look. “Can you not tell me these things about my teammates?”

“Will you help him, baby?”

His eyes went comically wide. “What?”

“You’re just so good at it.”

“You’re insane.”

You sighed. “Fine, just let Wanda suffer.

“I will.”

He was clearly uncomfortable, and you were enjoying it immensely. “Nat says Bucky is really, really good.”

He sighed. “I didn’t want to know that.”

“But I’m sure no one is better than you…remember the last time you ate me out?”

He scoffed. “Pretty sure we were going to a Stark party…it’s been too long.”

“I don’t mind,” you claimed. “I’m always the one that is too impatient to let you, anyway.”

“I always have to tie you up,” he muttered almost more to himself. “But if you were trying to get on my good side…”

“What?”

He jerked the steering wheel right and sped into a parking lot.

“Steve, what are you doing?”

He turned off the car and looked at you. “If you behave now, you might get a reward tonight.”

“Steve, we’re going to be late. The team gets mad when we’re late.”

He didn’t look worried at all. He began angling your body toward him, hands sliding down your sides until he reached your hips. He pulled you closer to the edge of the seat and you took the cue to lean against the door. “Open your legs for me.”

You curled on leg around the side of the seat and pressed the opposite out as far as you could. This was not a good idea, but when were you ever going to say no to him telling you to open your legs? Most days, they just fell open for him.

He ran his hands back up your thighs to move the dress out of his way, smirking as you shivered.

You didn’t care anymore, about anything. You couldn’t stop staring at his lips, completely willing to forget all the shit he had put you through the past few days. His mouth could make you do anything, all he ever had to do was ask.

He started by kissing your thighs because he wanted you to snap at him, to tell him to hurry up. You wouldn’t—screw the team. You would just have to bring up all the times they were late.

His eyes flit up to you several times make sure he had you absolutely wrecked with all his teasing. Your thighs were shaking, tired from how you were using them, but you always knew that he made it worthwhile.

When he finally pressed just the gentlest kiss to your pussy, you shuddered. “Daddy,” you whined. “Please eat my pussy.”

He hummed as if he was contemplating.

“Please, daddy,” you whined. “Please, it’s been so long. I miss it.”

“You don’t prefer the beard?” he challenged knowingly. The beard didn’t always make sense for his cover, sometimes he had to get rid of it. You never let him do so without fucking you just one last time—rough, fast, dirty.

“No,” you denied. “I do not prefer it.”

He arched an eyebrow, ending all those small kisses he was scattering along your skin. “Really?”

“I prefer you, Steve Rogers. Beard, no beard. Long hair, short hair. I don’t care what you look like. I just know, every second of every day, I want you to be fucking me.”

He hummed, tried to pretend it didn’t matter. But it did, because Steve needed a partner that needed him. Not in that gross, misogynistic way most men were guilty of. He needed a partner that sometimes couldn’t think straight, that sometimes couldn’t complete the simple task of living until he was inside them. “Good answer.”

You smiled. “I’m aware.” You fit those requirements well. Yes, you were good and wanted to please him. However, you were also greedy and demanding and sometimes, you threw fits and tantrums, sometimes, you refused to do what you needed to do until he made you come. You felt zero shame about wanting and needing him and you knew the simple fact of desiring him specifically always got him off.

“You really are my good girl,” he feigned realization, as if you hadn’t made it abundantly clear a million times over.

“Yes, I am.”

“And my good girl wants her pussy eaten?”

“Yes, I do.”

He kissed his way up your thigh again and finally, turned to your cunt. He kissed you several more times as you squirmed, then licked up slowly as his eyes were locked on yours.

You shuddered. “Daddy, that feels so good.”

“If you weren’t being such a good girl, I would spank you for not wearing underwear.”

You smiled.

He repeated that same touch several times, looking more and more pleased every sound you made, every jerk of your hips. It was all slow, all calculated movement designed to pleasure you just enough, but not enough. He just wanted to taste you and tease you, and you didn’t mind any of it. This is the most time Steve has spent on you in a while, you were just enjoying his attention.

You were 40 minutes late, messed up hair, flushed cheeks, shaky legs because he didn’t let you come—and everyone knew exactly what it was that had made you late, exactly what you had prioritized over them.

You were insane. You had been driven to that point by Steve Rogers, Captain America—he was a cruel man not that selfless hero everyone got to see. He’d taken you so close to that edge so many times, promised if you were patient that he would make it all up to you.

When he finally lifted your hips and buried his face between your thighs, you were sure your finish was coming. He sucked on your clit mercilessly, tongue swiping out a few times to gather the arousal leaking down your pussy. When you let him know you were close, he set you down on the seat again and told you to put your seatbelt back on.

He had done this before but maybe it was all that time that he had been gone. Maybe it was that his face was wet, his lips redder and fuller than usual, and that he simply smirked and wiped the back of his hand over his skin. It was just different. He was not going to get away with it.

You didn’t say a word for the rest of the drive. Even though he was cooing at you the entire time about how you were his doll and you were beautiful, and he claimed to love you so much. He kept touching your hair and your arm, but you wouldn’t budge.

When Bucky threw you a pitiful look, the whole plan just sort of fell into place. You couldn’t really be blamed, right? He couldn’t consider it your fault—no, at this point, he had to know that anything you did in response to his disproportionate punishment was all on him. He left you alone, didn’t fuck you, didn’t let you come—flirting with Bucky was well within your rights.

It started simple. Bucky was trying to warm up to his metal arm more—the next step in his therapy—and you liked helping. This wasn’t that, necessarily, but you could say you were killing two birds with one stone. You simply walked right up to him and draped his arm around your shoulders. You knew your boyfriend wouldn’t like it because that was what you did to him, it was one of the many ways you liked asking him for attention without using words.

Steve eyed you for nothing more than a second, and neither of you acknowledged it any further, but you knew it bothered him. You’d been given quite a powerful gift one night when Steve had you pressed to the wall, chest to your back, hand to your throat as he fucked you from behind. He had admitted that he was being so complicated—that was a week of hell, one you always shuddered thinking about because you couldn’t walk straight a few days after—because he didn’t like how he felt whenever you would just disappear with Bucky. He promised he wasn’t accusing either of you of anything, it just reminded him of how things used to be with his best friend. You didn’t like flirting with Bucky, but after what Steve had done, it was deserved.

Apparently, he wasn’t too angry since he was on you as soon as you and Bucky separated. He held you as close as possible until he talked you into going outside. Stark parties were always crowded and loud and it wasn’t rare that people would be nearly glued to the side of the building and one another, practically having sex with their clothes on. But it was rare that you and Steve were some of those people.

Yet, he was not hesitant. He led you outside, his fingers linked between yours. As soon as he could, he turned back to you and caged you against the building with his forearms on either side of your head.

He made no further moves, he just watched you. Your skin was itching with desire, but you wouldn’t let him know that. “Did you want something, daddy?”

He smirked a little, shaking his head. “Not much. I just wanted you to know that I’m aware you’ve been good.”

You smiled unintentionally, but it felt nice that he knew you were being good, knew that you wanted something very specific. Him, completely to yourself, just one night. You deserved it.

He leaned down and you tilted your head back to meet his kiss. “Well,” his lips brushed over yours, “that was until you decided to be a brat with Bucky.”

You pulled back, pouting at him.

He arched an eyebrow, challenging you to protest.

“Well, if you’re not going to touch me—”

“I was going to reward you for your patience. Good thing I decided to wait.”

“Are you kidding? I waited for you to come back and then your stupid mission got extended by three days—three, so I broke on the last night. Big deal. Then you get here and you don’t fuck me, and don’t even get me started on the shit you just pulled. I wanted attention and affection and Bucky seemed willing to provide.”

One of his hands wrapped around your throat, his thumb massaging over your pulse point. “So, your grand solution, if I’m not giving you what you want, is to run to Bucky?”

“What if I say yes?”

He glanced around before tightening his hand and looking down at you. “If you say yes, then I’m going to punish you. I’m going to take you to the side of this building, in the alley, get you on your knees, and make you remind me how much you love me. So, baby doll, what’s your answer?”

It was as if he thought you wouldn’t enjoy every second of that. “My answer is yes,” you claimed. “If you’re not giving me attention, I’ll get it from Bucky.”

He took another quick look around before dragging you into the alley just like he said he was going to. Before you could say a word, he was tearing off his jacket to toss onto the floor. He pressed you down onto it by your shoulders, hands then flying to his pants.

By the time you were comfortably settled, hands safely on his thighs, Steve had his cock out for you. Eyes on his, you opened your mouth and swallowed as much of him as you could, slowly because you needed some type of upper hand.

He didn’t let you keep it for long, however. His hand settled at the back of your head and he began fucking your throat like someone who wasn’t just pretending to be angry. Like someone who wasn’t just being the most extra fucking person because he had wanted this the very second that he’d returned home.

You knew better, you always did. He wasn’t mad, you weren’t sincerely flirting with Bucky, you wouldn’t do it again, but he wouldn’t mind if you did—given that you didn’t cross any lines. It was a fun game, but it was time to end this. All this fighting over him watching you, the power struggle, it was done. You just wanted this man to fuck you. You would surrender and you wouldn’t mind it one bit when he had you in bed later that night.

It had to be fast, he couldn’t let you tease. There were people around, people who would undoubtedly gravitate toward the alley. It was pure luck that it was empty at all, but he wasn’t going to waste time being grateful. He was rough sliding in and out of your throat, these quiet grunts just barely audible through all your gagging and the noise of the outside, the people, the cars.

By the time he finished, your throat was sore, tears began running down your cheeks all the way to your neck, drool was starting to slip from your lips. You were a mess, on your knees in an alley, all for Captain fucking America. You never dreamed of being this cool when you were younger, but sometimes things just worked out.

He had leaned onto the brick wall behind you with his forearm, eyes slammed shut, mouth hanging open as he caught his breath.

You waited patiently, despite your declining oxygen and your growing desperation for it. You swallowed when you could, tried breathing through your nose calmly, you didn’t want to have to tell him to pull out. You wanted to keep him for as long as he wanted you to, you wanted him to tell you that you were good with those heart eyes that he always got when you sucked his cock.

He began running his fingers down your hair. “Clean me up, baby.”

You did so as well as you could, but he barely gave you sufficient time before he was pulling you onto your feet.

He leaned in almost immediately to reach down, under your skirt to slide your panties down your legs. You lifted your feet when he needed you to, but mostly, just stupidly stood there. He wasn’t going to fuck you out here, was he? He was a risk-taker, you’d give him that, but an actual gambler? Not quite on that level yet.

He stood, pressing the lace to your chin to dry your face of spit and tears. He was so soft about it, so different than how he had been just moments ago. You watched his face the entire time, blushing terribly at how intently he was staring at you.

“Open your mouth, sweetheart.”

You did so, fully expecting him to kiss you. Instead, he shoved your panties between your lips and was turning away before you could blink. He tucked himself back into his pants with such ease, ease that only came from having super-hearing and knowing for sure that he wasn’t going to be caught.

So, yeah. Long story short, you pushed Steve too far and now he was mad. More than the average amount. Honestly, did he expect you not to retaliate? After he left you alone in the alley without calling you his good girl? If he didn’t see it coming, then he didn’t know you as well as you thought he did.

But he did know you enough. His rough hands had been moving over your ass for the better part of an hour. He’d positioned you in the bedroom so you could see the clock, he wanted you to see that he intended to take him time. He hadn’t spanked you yet and you were just about shaking in anticipation, you knew he had to feel how wet you were.

Yet, he didn’t say a word. He didn’t let you either, any attempt was cut off by some disapproving noise and you were too scared to push him more. Not after what you did…

But you were also impatient. You weren’t trying to be disobedient or argumentative, but you had to communicate with him. He was driving you insane, you weren’t sure you could do this much longer. You cleared your throat a bit. “Daddy—”

“Baby girl, one more time and daddy will have to gag you.”

You immediately shut up. You didn’t want to be gagged. You noticed that when you were less vocal, he was less vocal, and at the end of it all, what was the point of all the theatrics if he wasn’t going to praise you?

He leaned down and kissed the top of your head.

You just wanted to hear it. That you were good, that he was proud of you. Instead, without warning, his hand struck one side of your ass and you were so surprised that you yelped.

Your hands rushed to your mouth as you turned back over your shoulder slightly to eye him. You saw him smirk, this was obviously what he wanted, but then he tsked at you. “I’m sorry, daddy, I was just surprised. I’ll be quiet, I swear.”

He let his palm rub over the red mark across your skin. He hummed, feigning thought. “I don’t know, doll.” His opposite hand came up to grab your jaw, turning your attention forward again.

You were opposed to the gag, but if he wanted to choke you… You brought both your hands up to his forearm and pressed against it until his hand slid down a bit, settling confidently to your throat.

He scoffed. “Want me to choke you?”

You nodded.

“You can speak.”

“Please, daddy,” you begged.

“After all the misbehaving? Do you honestly think you deserve it?”

“Yes.”

He snorted. “Okay.” His hand wrapped around your neck, so suddenly that the surprised noise you made got caught in your throat. The next time he smacked you, your moan was choked, barely audible.

You were immediately relieved. You weren’t going to have to try to be quiet. He always treated that part like a game, if he told you to be quiet, he would then do whatever he could to make you get loud.

He was hitting harder than usual, hard enough that the only thing keeping you draped over his lap was his hand in front of you that was wound around you. You didn’t mind at all, you always wanted him to let go a little. But of course, he was Steve, and he couldn’t stop being overprotective if his life depended on it.

That he wasn’t more concerned with checking in on you was testament to how angry you’d made him. The thing with Bucky was clearly a game, Steve knew you were just making some cheap shots to get his attention. Taking you outside and getting you to suck him off was just him indulging you.

This was not that. You were being punished and his greatest source of irritation seemed to be that you were completely unapologetic. Also, there was the pride aspect, that you had done this in front of the team. If he couldn’t keep you in check, what kind of a leader was he?

But he most certainly couldn’t control you, not unless you wanted to let him. Mostly, he seemed to like that, seemed to like the challenge, the power struggles, the attitude. However, tonight, when you were dancing with Wanda, he seemed a bit…opposed. Wanda herself had been mad at Steve because of a little disagreement they had during their last mission. She was playing to win and if your sore aching ass was any indication, she had.

You always danced with Wanda, you danced with all your friends. But see, Wanda could read minds and that didn’t always produce the best scenarios. She knew you were desperate for an upper hand and she was just crazy enough to help you get it. It started fun like it always did when the girls were free of the boys, but then her hands were on your hips. Yet, you were fine, you knew Steve wouldn’t like it, but oh well.

Then, she spun you around, your back to her chest, and you were facing Steve. And well, she let her hands wander. You had been drinking a little, it was thrilling watching Steve watch you, knowing that he was going to make tonight hell for you.

He was beautiful, sat there, contemplating, strategizing, waiting with the restraint of a god. This was one of those moments when he just couldn’t turn off Captain America, when one was blending into the other. You never minded that. You loved Steve first, of course, but Captain America was just right after that.

You were excited when he calmly got onto the floor almost an hour later and told you it was time to go. You had to bite your tongue to stop the giggles and the words you desperately wanted to say as he took your hand and led you outside. Your body was humming with energy as he drove you back to the compound, hand firmly on your thigh.

He told you he could smell you, your pussy, how terribly you wanted him. He carried you to his room, knowing that your legs were weak and that if given the option, you’d beg him to fuck you in the hall. It was the start of your submission, you both loved it when he handled you like it was nothing.

By the time he yanked your panties down, you were already crying and shaking, your entire body throbbing for a release. Some of your tears had rolled down your cheeks and onto his thigh, and he could feel your knees buckling despite you trying to stand for him. He always ordered you to stay on your feet no matter how useless it was, no matter that even in heels, draped over his huge body, your feet barely touched the ground.

He stopped spanking you only to grab one of your hands from his forearm, dragging it down. “Touch your clit.”

It was nothing short of awkward positioning. You had to reach under his thigh and back up to where your cunt was. You had to angle your ass up just a little to have access, and he took that to mean that you wanted him to smack you harder.

He leaned down, kissing your head. “You’re okay?” He let your neck go just a little, a sign he wanted you to use words.

You nodded, clearing your throat. “Yes, daddy.”

“Don’t stop touching your clit until I tell you. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“And you better not come.”

“Okay.”

“If you do either of these things, I will tie you up and spank you for the rest of the night. I won’t fuck you, I won’t make you come.”

You nodded again. “Okay.”

You were slow about it, worried that you might work yourself up too quickly. He only just started with this, he wasn’t going to let it go for at least 30 minutes. He smacked you the entire time. It was heavy and noisy, and never failed to make your hips jolt so much that your clit was constantly moving out of reach before you panicked and set yourself back in the correct place.

“Rub your clit faster, doll.”

“Daddy—”

He reached down to take your hand, pressed firmly on your clit, and spoke over the moan that fell from your open mouth. “Do it like that, don’t make me tell you again.”

Even when he moved his hand, you continued. Your moans were strangled but loud enough for him. “Daddy, I’ll come like this.”

“Don’t,” was all he said and followed with another strike across your ass.

“Daddy, please, I’m going to come.” Your thighs were already shaking, that pressure in your lower body was building, threatening to bloom into a numbing orgasm. “Daddy, I can’t do this.”

“Yes, you can.” Another smack. “Aren’t you my good girl?” And another. “Don’t you wanna make daddy proud?” Another.

“Yes, daddy, but it feels too good,” you blurted out.

“My decision has been made.” He hit you twice more before you started to panic.

“Daddy, I’m sorry,” you whined. “I’m really sorry, please let me stop!”

He settled one hand over your ass cheek and removed his hand from your neck to take your hand away from your pussy. “Baby, make it a good apology or we will start all over.”

You pulled your joined hands up and started kissing his knuckles. “I’m sorry, daddy, I promise I am.”

“For what?” he asked slowly. “Say all of it.”

“For flirting with Bucky.”

He smacked you again and you hissed. “How did you flirt with Bucky?”

“I let him touch me.”

Once more. “And why is that wrong?”

You waited until your skin stopped stinging before you spoke. “Because only you should be touching me.”

He hummed and his hand came down again. “Go on.”

“And for dancing with Wanda.”

“You wanted to make daddy mad, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” you admitted.

“Because you wanted to be spanked,” he accused.

You nodded. “Yes.”

“How’s that working out for you, doll?”

“It was fun for a while,” you admitted.

He snorted. “You’re a god damn brat.”

You kissed his hand again. “Your brat?”

He rolled his eyes, but you could see he was trying to fight a smile. “Yeah, mine. No one else should touch you, no one else should be dancing with you.” He finally pulled you up, quickly setting you so that you straddled him. He touched your face with both hands, looking over you carefully.

Your hands went to his pants and you began moving them out of the way.

He lifted an eyebrow at you. “I know you’re not doing that without permission.”

Biting your lip, you shrugged and pressed your palm against his cock through the pants.

He spanked you again and you crashed into him. Your knees slipped from the mattress and you frantically caught onto his shoulders. He gave you no time to recover, instead, rolled over so you were under him. “You know what I want to hear, doll.”

You did know. As much as you wanted him to praise you, he wanted you to tell him you loved him. But, again, you truly were a brat and sometimes decided to withhold such an admission. “I love you, daddy.”

“I love you, too.”

You brought a hand up to his face. “Are you gonna fuck me, daddy?”

“I’m gonna ruin you, baby doll,” he corrected. “First, I’m gonna eat your pussy and let you come. Then, I’m gonna fuck your pussy until I’m not hard anymore. Then I’m gonna fuck your mouth until I’m ready to fuck your ass.”

You would place money on the absurd idea that he’d somehow gotten a degree in teasing. Pathetically, you clutched at his shirt. “Please?”

He smirked. “Anything you want, baby girl.”

You yanked the hem up his back and he assisted you in taking it off. You kissed him hungrily, open-mouthed, moaning, yanking on his lip with both of yours.

He wasted no time, spared no warning, offered no preparation time. Abruptly, two of his thick fingers were inside your pussy and you were crying out, throwing your head back, body arching up closer to his. He started kissing your face, down the faint tear tracks that resulted from the prior spanking.

Again, he ordered against your skin, “say it again.”

“I love you,” you blurted out, hips rolling up to get him in further. “Daddy, I love you so fucking much.”

As his fingers curled, he kissed down your face, your neck, all the way down to one of your breasts. “Touch the other,” he directed, and didn’t close his mouth around your nipple until your hand had cupped your neglected breast.

He sucked hard, pressed his fingers hard, held you down with his hips hard. Everything about him was hard and rough and determined. He took you there fast, to that place where your body was shaking, these whiny, small noises couldn’t stop pouring out of you if your life depended on it, your hips jerking, your pussy clenching, stars behind your god damn eyes.

“I’m close, daddy. Can I come?”

He bit into your skin instead of answering, perfect teeth surrounding your nipple, a fucking threat. Did he actually think you didn’t want him to dig his teeth into you?

Your second hand came up to the back of his head where you fisted his hair and pressed him down more. “Harder, daddy, harder.”

He let his teeth pinch you just a tad more, concern clear in his actions.

“Harder,” you repeated.

Again, he gave you what you asked for, and pressed a third finger inside you. It was a delicious, disorienting, blissful stretch that you had to spread your legs to try to take.

“Harder,” you ordered, tone sharp, maybe a little condescending.

His fingers began pounding into you, wet noises echoing from your pussy. Finally, you were sure his teeth had pierced your skin.

You screamed so loud you were sure the entire floor heard you—distantly, you spared thought to who was going to give you a rough time at breakfast. Your orgasm followed almost instantly, and Steve fucked his fingers into you until you were mewling and brushing your fingers through his hair. You couldn’t say much at the moment but that little gesture never failed to stroke that unspoken part of Steve—which you had always known about—that also liked praise.

He turned up to you and you saw him lick his lips, maybe you’d seen a flash of red, maybe you’d just imagined it. Your breast stung, you thought you might have felt something drip down your skin… He pulled you up with him, hand on your arm, his other hand touching your lips, giving you a little taste of what your pussy had left behind on his fingers.

Before you could say a word, Steve was getting you on your knees and pushing you toward the headboard. You were confused by it but since you were still reeling from your last orgasm, you decided to trust him. He kept you facing away from him and you didn’t understand why until your wrists were being tied to the headboard. He took your hips and yanked you back and it was then you thought maybe you knew what he was doing. Your ankles were next, which was a long process given that you were so far away from the next spot on the bed that could hold a rope.

You were uncomfortably angled, body pulled tight. It was his favorite way to eat you out, you were completely exposed to him, unable to pull yourself away if he was overstimulating you. How he got back under you is another part of this that you were unclear on, anticipation now clouding your ability to logical thoughts.

His hands slid up your thighs, over your ass, clasped around your waist and then he pulled you down almost violently, clearly unconcerned about the way that pulled at both your arms and legs. You didn’t mind much either.

Once more, he didn’t bother with any of that elaborate shit. You weren’t built up, you weren’t led to an orgasm. He ate your pussy like it was the only thing he knew how to do. He alternated between running his tongue through you—prodding your entrance just slightly, then over your clit, back down and the same, over and over—to sucking your clit between his lips, moaning, sighing, making all of these appreciative noises that only added to all the sensations.

His fingers dug into your skin, your ribs painfully, your limbs were aching, but you knew it didn’t matter. Even if you told him all of this, even if you could make yourself care—as if you could focus on anything but his mouth—he wasn’t going to stop until he was satisfied.

Your first finish was slow, a somewhat drawn-out process that he worked to keep you on the edge of for just a few moments. He wasn’t teasing, necessarily, but he needed to remind you, in this state of hazy pleasure, that your body was wholly his. You squeezed your eyes shut, yanked on the ropes because that was the only thing you could do, and once again, reminded him that you loved him.

The second orgasm felt nearly immediately after—though, time distantly existed to someone as satisfied as you. You were trying to relax, worried you would spend yourself before you got fucked. He didn’t stop, he didn’t slow, if anything, he was faster, more skilled. He sucked at your skin roughly, a demand because he was getting impatient.

You were a whimpering, crying mess, begging him in half sentences because you were unable to articulate fully what you wanted. Your pussy spasmed, clenching in desperate need to be filled as he focused solely on your clit. You screamed things that you knew he would be smug about for days to come, how good you felt, how badly you needed only him, how much you wanted to be on his cock because he had the best cock in the world.

Prior to you, Steve thought he didn’t need to hear such biased things from a lover. But since he couldn’t get drunk, this was basically the only drug he could indulge in and get something out of.

This was around the time you started to worry, because again, you were offered no recovery time. He flicked his tongue over your clit regardless of your pleas for a break, regardless of how desperately you pulled on the ropes, regardless of the tears rolling down your cheeks. It was too much, you couldn’t come again.

He brought his hand up and spread your cunt, tongue continuing back and forth over that sensitive spot. You sobbed, utterly broken, overwhelmed, consumed, and insisted that you couldn’t give him another one. He stopped licking you only to say, “you can, and you will,” before diving right back in.

He must have known that this was it, this was when you needed your reprieve. You finished and he made sure not a drop of you went to waste, but then he was kissing around your thighs, you could feel that his cheeks and jaw were wet and there was something deep inside you that loved that his face was covered in you—maybe you could go a couple more rounds.

He tore the ropes off, uncaring of what happened to the bed or anything else—though, the way the post creaked made you worry. He just wanted to get you loose quickly and as soon as you were free, he was laying you down and kissing you wherever he could reach, mainly your chest and one of your arms.

When his lips were on yours, you remembered how badly you had wanted him inside you. It didn’t matter that you could barely move, you insisted on pushing his jeans down. “Daddy, please?”

He helped you because he doubted your ability to do so on your own, but he made the mental note to let you undress him before he ate you out next time. He loved when you undressed him, how your fingers would glide down his skin so softly, like he was something delicate or breakable. Sometimes, it made him forget who and what he was.

Though you were soaking wet, somewhat numb from all that overstimulation, he was hard enough that it hurt. His cock pressed into you carefully, inch by inch, his eyes on your face the whole time. He loved the flush on your cheeks, that hazy gleam in your eye, your swollen, parted lips—you looked so wrecked.

You weakly hooked a leg around his ass, hands following to grasp at his shoulders. “Daddy, I feel like I’ve needed you inside me for a fucking year.” And now he was there, and it made no sense how complete you felt, how sated, how at-home.

He kissed your lips first, a clear apology, then he kissed all around your face until you couldn’t stop smiling. “I’ll make it up to you,” he assured. “I’m gonna pound your beautiful little pussy until I know you can’t take it anymore.”

Sometimes, fucking so wildly and creatively was at the cost of simple intimacy. As he picked up this steady pace, this nice roll of his hips that was deep enough to make you cry out and forceful enough that his skin slapped noisily against yours, your eyes sought his out. He set his hand to your cheek, a nonverbal order to keep looking at him. His eyes always seemed like an ocean to you, so great, so dangerous, so mysterious. You realized he hadn’t spoken about his last mission, you were beginning to wonder if there was a bigger reason for all these games. Maybe this was his way of sneakily getting you here without having to talk about it—he never liked you to worry.

You finished and it felt like he was finally home, despite him having been there for several days. You shuddering beneath him, tightening around him to the point of being painful just grounded him like nothing else could, reminded him that he was human.

His hips stilled immediately and before you could say a word, his lips were on yours. He was smart, anyone who ever claimed Steve wasn’t alarmingly intelligent was dead wrong. He was a strategist above all else, that also applied in bed. He wanted you to come down fast before he started up again, he wanted you loose and weak because you were less likely to make him come that way. And he had such grand plans for the rest of the night, it was written all over his face, meaning he was edging himself.

There were few things better than when Steve did this. He always knew how to start slow for himself, not gentle, not boring, just simply not enough. With time, he fucked you harder, he grabbed you like you were little more than a toy given to him simply for his pleasure, the noises he made were animalistic, the things he would say… You just had to last that long, and it was always a mystery if you would, if he would take it easy on you or not.

Usually, he didn’t care to be so considerate.

He settled his weight on one of his forearms as he pulled away from the kiss. His opposite hand slid down your body and to your sensitive cunt.

“Daddy,” you whimpered. Nope, he most certainly was not going easy on you tonight.

He didn’t start fucking you again. Instead, he rubbed firm, quick circles over your clit until you were shaking and screaming and crying and squeezing his shoulders in your hands.

While you were coming, he brought his hand over your mouth and nose. You did your best to look up at him, but he kept his fingers on your clit and you could barely think straight, let alone see straight.

“Hear that?” That was when he started thrusting. “Hear how wet your pussy is? It’s been that wet all night, you’ve been so desperate for my cock all night. When you were flirting with Bucky, when you were dancing with Wanda. And they both knew it. Bucky can smell you, too, and I’m sure Wanda was reading your thoughts.”

Both of those suggestions were mortifying. It wasn’t normal how weak and pathetic you got over Steve’s cock. Thinking that the team knew that, that Wanda was listening to some of your thoughts, you wouldn’t be able to look them in the eye for at least the next week.

He kept his hand over you, preventing you from breathing because he knew it would make your next orgasm better. He felt a sinful amount of pride when your eyes began crossing, when your hips started to jerk, when you started digging your nails into his skin. You were so fucked out you didn’t care what you looked like or sounded like, and that was what turned him on like nothing else after long nights like these.

You started shoving his arm as you were coming down, realizing once more the importance of oxygen. He waited, kept his hold over you, eyes locked on yours, until your eyes filled with more tears and your skin turned just a little red. When he let you go, your chest heaved as you greedily took in air. And he never once stopped driving his cock in and out of you, reveling in the sounds.

“Daddy—”

He scoffed, rolling over effortlessly so you were on top. “Come on, sweetheart, I know you’re not trying to tap out right now.” His hand spread over your back, holding you down flat. His voice was surprisingly steady considering his erratic thrusts. “Not only would I not let you, but you know you’re tougher than that.”

Your cheek was pressed to his chest, the loudest sound you could hear was his pounding heart. You had your hands somewhere on his body, all you could feel was skin and muscle and heat. His hands slid down to your ass where he held you in place and fucked you harder than he usually liked to. Screams tore from your throat along with these small mewls when you were almost choking on air because you could barely remember how to breathe.

“You love me, baby doll?”

“Yes,” you rasped. “Yes, daddy, I love you.”

“You gonna be a good girl and let daddy use you all night?”

“Yes.” That was a big promise you weren’t sure you were going to be able to keep but your desire to make him proud sometimes beat out logic.

“Sit up,” he directed but moved you himself. He placed your hands on his chest but kept a good hold of your shoulders. “You know what I want.”

And for some reason, your hips, despite all the screaming your muscles were doing, started to roll.

He let out a pleased sigh, eyes roaming over your body. His hands weren’t tight, they were just there if he needed to catch you, but this was all you. This was his baby, riding his cock because you were such a good girl.

This had to be adrenaline, there was no other explanation for why you were able to move on your own. From this position, you could feel how wet and sticky you’d gotten his thighs—how many times had he made you come? You weren’t sure anymore.

As you drew yourself closer to an orgasm, now wildly bouncing on his cock, screaming, gasping, sobbing, you pressed your nails down into his pecs as sharply as you could.

He watched your breasts move with you, smugly admiring the bruised and broken skin around your nipple. His heart swelled when he felt you trying to mark him up, too. You made him wish that he didn’t heal so fast sometimes, if only so he could be covered in you as much as you were covered in him.

He caught your hip in one hand when you were getting him too close. He dragged you down until you were flat on his lap, struggling to sit on the entire length of his cock. His other hand went to your clit again and you threw your head back and moaned shamelessly. He flicked his thumb over you until you were shaking, your knees digging into his sides, your chest heaving, your arms buckling.

He let you come down this time but not because he was feeling nice. He’d been so lost in you that he had let himself get just a little too far. But that didn’t stop you from being a fucking tease, he suspected nothing in this world could. You were sitting there, pussy occasionally clenching around his cock, your hands kneading your breasts and pinching your nipples.

His hand tightened on you when your shaky fingers touched the bite he’d left behind. You hissed a little, glancing down to assess the damage. He was sick for biting you like that, but you were sick for looking so god damn happy about it.

Your eyes flit up to him, catching him looking just a little weak. His mouth snapped shut when he realized you were watching him. “Wanna give me another one, daddy?”

Scoffing, he sat up, situating himself onto his legs so you could sit on his thighs. His arms slid around your back and he pulled you up until you were a head or so taller than him. With your eyes locked, he sucked your nipple between his lips.

“Fuck, daddy,” you whispered.

He hummed lightly, teeth just barely pressing down.

“Shit,” you muttered, almost more to yourself. You always liked feeling it, but he’d never taken the time to let you watch him do it.

He started sucking, taking more of your breast in his mouth until he’d decided where he wanted to let his teeth cut into your skin. He did it slow, sinking them in carefully and keeping his gaze on you the whole time. You were shaking again and he could feel your cunt leaking onto his lap. He wasn’t sure he’d ever gotten you this wet before.

Your eyes filled with new tears when he finally broke your skin. You bit your lip to keep from making a noise too big, but it was an agonized cry that made him pause for just a moment. But then you squeezed your pussy around him and his hand came down on your ass loudly, you weren’t sure what scared you more the sudden sound or the force behind it.

He pulled his mouth off and admired his work for a second before turning up to you. “You want to be a fucking brat after I’m making you act like this?”

You scoffed shakily. “And how are you making me act, daddy?”

Instead of answering that, he asserted, “I’ve never seen someone so desperate to have every hole fucked this hard. I’m sure most people haven’t.”

You arched an eyebrow at him.

“Maybe I should fuck you in front of the team, hmm?”

That idea probably didn’t put you off as much as he thought it would. Although, calling him daddy, begging for his cock and his cum, crying because he won’t let you finish—thinking of other people watching you submit like that was a little embarrassing.

“How about just Wanda and Vision?” you suggested.

He snorted. “Really?”

“He can watch you eat my pussy, you can show him how to do it.”

He hummed, pretending that he didn’t care.

But he should have stopped you because you were about to cross the line with him. After all, it was one of your favorite hobbies. “But before we get Wanda’s hopes up, maybe he could practice on me a few times.”

And when he gripped your hip tighter, you knew you’d hit the bullseye. He took his opposite hand and grabbed your jaw. “I’m only going to say this once, doll.”

You hummed, trying to hide how pleased with yourself you were.

“If you ever joke about someone else eating your pussy, I’ll fucking spank you until I see some blood.”

Though it was more than likely an empty threat—Steve didn’t have it in him to do that to you, even when you promised you would tell him if it was too much—his deep voice, his unrelenting grip on your jaw, his dark eyes all made you wetter.

“Understood?”

You tried not to smile but you failed, and continued to fail as you tried to hide it by nodding.

He scoffed sharply. “You’re so fucking spoiled.”

He grabbed a handful of hair at the back of your head, smirking when you startled. Before you could say a word, he was yanking you down until his cock had slipped out and you rolled off his lap. He didn’t much care where you landed, he just shoved your face into the bed.

Then he was on top of you, settling his body over yours but being careful not to set any weight on you. He was not gentle at all when he entered you again because this was the kind of fucking that wouldn’t stop until you were sweating, dripping with cum, crying, and blurting out nonsense that always seemed to placate him.

He kept your face pressed into the mattress as he railed into you. You screamed loudly because you could, because he wasn’t letting you do anything else, because it was the only way you could express to him how badly you wanted to finish, how badly you wanted him to finish. As you were coming, you only got louder, your throat was starting to ache, your heart was pounding, your head spinning—you couldn’t fucking breathe, not that you minded, and you were wasting the little oxygen you did have to let this man know he was fucking you just right.

He waited until your body was thrashing with aftershocks, until your voice had died down somewhat, and then lifted your head. Instead of letting you catch your breath, he leaned over and kissed you. It was a sloppy, open-mouthed kiss with a lot of tongue, both of you moaning as his hips continued to move.

“Daddy, are you gonna come?”

“You want me to?”

You nodded as well as you could with his hold on your hair. “Please, daddy.”

He hummed before shoving your face back down. He sat back then, free hand coming to the small of your back to keep you right there. With this new position, he had a lot more leverage and he took full advantage of that. You didn’t scream this time, you couldn’t. A sound had caught in your throat the second he slammed back into you harder than you could ever remember him doing so. It fucking hurt and you were aching, but you loved that harsh sting you felt in your pussy. You loved that he was the one who did it to you.

He collapsed back over you as he finished. His mouth took your shoulder, biting down to muffle the groans pouring from him as his body moved at a steady pace. You could feel his cum filling you, soon it would be dripping out, soon he would be moving again until he’d just about fucked it all out of you, and he’d want to do it again and again, until he wasn’t hard anymore.

Currently though, he was. He was buried deep inside you and it hurt to have him there while you were still tight from your last finish and the impending next one. It was a feeling you’d gotten used to, a feeling you’d grown to crave sometimes. That pain that was so uniquely Steve Rogers because no one else had that stamina or strength.

He sat up again, releasing his hold on your head so you could finally breathe. He let you collect yourself as he began positioning you over him. He spread your legs as wide as they could go, draping your thighs over his.

Was he ever going to give you a break?

His hands both curled around your waist, fingers pressing firmly down on that skin. He dragged you down further onto his cock and you threw your head back. He kept fucking you like this, just pushing and pulling your body and holding you so tight. He was merciless, forcing you to take as much of his cock as you could before you screamed. He loved hearing you scream. It fueled him on, so it was no surprise when he pinned you down to the mattress, hands painfully grasping at your skin, and began fucking you so roughly that the bed was rattling. You were shrieking and crying and pleading, and your hips were angling up so you could take him in deeper. All you wanted was your next orgasm.

When you got it, you felt much like a shattered vase. You could do nothing but lay there in pieces, panting, disoriented, struggling to keep a grip on reality. Through it all, he pounding into you, roughly handling your body to best get himself off.

You knew he was coming when he brought his forearms down on either side of you. It was a few more harsh snaps of his hips and then he was unmoving, and you were full of him. He wasn’t completely rested on you, but it was the only thing in that moment that could ground you.

You blindly, mindlessly reached for him. You curled your arm back, grabbing his hair to pull him closer. You didn’t want to kiss him, you just wanted him as close as he could possibly get. Regardless, he did kiss you until he felt like you had come down enough for him.

He slipped his cock out and you felt his cum following, dripping from your pussy. He climbed off the bed, standing at the very edge where he gestured you over. “Come here, baby doll.”

You weren’t sure how you made yourself crawl over to him. It was purely a miracle that your muscles worked. You were on your hands and knees when you took him into your mouth. His hand settled in your hair and he let his head fall back.

He wasn’t totally soft, but as soft as he was going to get while his thoughts about all the ways he wanted to fuck you persisted. He grabbed your hair and pulled you off, smiling a little when he saw you pouting. There were few things he liked seeing more than when you would get bratty just to suck him off. “Lay down on your back.”

You quickly obliged. He had never placed you in this position before and you loved when Steve took control of positions—it was never disappointing. He took your waist and pulled you to the edge of the bed until your head was dangling over. Immediately, you opened your mouth for him and he thrust back in.

You gagged noisily, your throat moving around him as you struggled to take him. He let you adjust on your own while his hands wandered your body. First, he grabbed your breasts, pinched your nipples until your back was arching and you were whimpering for more. He let them slide down until he could grab your thighs. He spread your legs as wide as they could go and watched your cunt pulsing and clenching, messy, sticky. And dipping with his cum.

“Keep your legs open for me,” was all he said before he leaned over and his tongue was sliding through your folds. You whined, muffled by his cock, utterly frustrated by how badly you wanted him to suck your clit. He pressed his hands down flat on your thighs to keep you pinned right where he wanted and began fucking your mouth.

The room was filled with sounds of you choking and moaning and him eating your soaking pussy and those breaths that you drew from him when you swallowed him just right. During your finish, he stopped his hips, denying himself the same relief. This happened several times and you wouldn’t have minded if he did it for the rest of the night. You didn’t understand how you could want more after all he had given you, but you did. More of his mouth, his hands, his cock.

When he pulled himself from your mouth, he was hard again. You didn’t let him tell you what to do next. You just reached for him, one hand wrapping around his cock and the other massaging his sac. You didn’t stop even though he was fucking you with his fingers, cruel and punishing, until he was spilling out on your skin.

He watched as you let your hands spread his cum all over your breasts and down your body to your pussy where more of him remained. You covered as much of yourself as you could in it and all he could think was that he wanted to do the same to the rest of your body, particularly your ass.

You knew immediately what was coming next. You got up, haphazardly crawled around the mattress until you could lie down and pressed your ass against him eagerly. He got his cock wet with your dripping center, just lightly dipping in and chuckling at the weak sounds you made, and then slowly, he pressed into your asshole.

You gripped at the sheets as he fed you more and more of his cock. Once more, when his hips were flush against you, he became insatiable. He used you to get every last ounce of frustration out and you felt powerful and wanted. He was rough and relentless, he didn’t care how many times you orgasmed, he didn’t care that you were overstimulated and overwhelmed.

You were sweating and shaking, impossibly wet, but he kept going because your hips were driving back to meet his thrusts. You could whine and beg as much as you wanted but Steve knew your body and he was the one that decided when you had had enough. You grabbed at his arms where he had them placed over your head on the mattress for balance, desperate to touch him, to bring him closer to you.

He never stopped fucking you while he situated himself on his side and pulled you along with him. He held you against his chest, arms wound tightly around you as his fingers either pinched your nipples, wrapped around your throat, or rubbed your clit. You were drowning in dozens of sensations that you couldn’t distinguish if your life depended on it.

When Steve finished again, he held onto you almost desperately. He whispered in your ear, the sweetest things, a major contrast compared to the entire night. “Thank you, baby doll, I’ve needed that since I got home.” He took your jaw in his hand and turned you to face him. “Do you love daddy?”

You nodded and made this pathetic noise because you stupidly thought you were capable of forming words. He smiled a little and suddenly, you were just lost in him. His eyes. His lips. His entire fucking unfairly beautiful face.

“Did daddy make you feel good tonight?”

You nodded again. You didn’t know much but you did know that you were high off these things that Steve did to you.

He gave you a single, chaste kiss. “You deserved it, baby girl.”

You began turning your body toward him and he took the hint. He pulled out, grabbing the blankets that were strewn all around the bed. You curled up against him, so tiny and so weak, and he was brimming with pride because he did that to you and you let him and you, this amazing fucking person, loved him. He wasn’t sure what he did to deserve it, but he didn’t ponder too long as he wrapped you up in the blankets and cradled you against him.

tags:

@donutloverxo @chris-evans-indian-fanfic @onetwo3000

[clara-licht]

you are enough: first impression

Summary: She was just another face in the crowd, someone you wouldn’t look at twice. He never really noticed her. That is, until the fifth day.

Pairing: Peter Parker x Reader

Word Count: 1.7k+

Warning: burst of anger? should that be a warning?

Timeline: Peter's first school year, pre-spider bite

Note: yay for first story! I wrote this under 3 hours from sudden burst of energy, so if you spot any mistake please let me know! This story is taken directly from my real experience on my fifth day of university. What happened then followed me even until now, but now my friends and I can look back on that day and laugh. Please tell me what you think about this 💜

Series Masterlist | Marvel Masterlist | Main Masterlist

——————————

Peter first noticed her on the fifth day of his first school year. Well, actually everyone in his class noticed her on that fifth day.

He had seen her a few times in some of his classes that week, but he didn’t really pay attention to her. After all, she was just another classmate. She was also pretty quiet and kept to herself most of the time. He didn’t think he had even heard her speak before.

Always wearing an unzipped jacket over a shirt, pants, a pair of Converse, and with her red Kipling backpack. Sitting on the second row. Earphones are usually on in between classes. As far as Peter was concerned, she was just another face to forget.

Until that fifth day.

He had come into class almost late that morning. It was Friday and Fridays always felt so slow since it’s so close to the weekend. Peter admitted his almost tardiness was the result of being too lazy to wake up on time when all he could think of was having the weekend off after a week of school.

The only seat left was the one behind her, so he just took it. His best friend since childhood, Ned, wasn’t in that class, and he didn’t really know anyone else yet, so no one saved him a “usual spot”.

When the teacher came in, Peter was already prepared to pay attention, hoping that the day would go faster if he was busy.

“We’re going to do a group project starting next week. Each group will take turns presenting their assignment every week, so that’s one group per week.” The teacher, Mrs. Warren, said. “Let’s see… We have 24 people here, so split into 6 groups of 4. I’ll give you 10 minutes to assign your own groups now.”

The classroom immediately erupted into chatter while Mrs. Warren turned her attention to the computer screen on her desk.

Peter felt some kind of dread as his classmates started talking among each other on how to split the class. He had nothing against group projects, but he knew virtually no one in this class and would most probably be left out and joined the “leftovers”. He could only hope that whoever winded up in his group could pull their own weight instead of just dumping their work on others.

Therefore he was pleasantly surprised when the girl at the front seat (“I think her name is Sally?”) turned around and said, “Should we just use our current seating to split the group? That way it’s random and fair.”

There were a few hums of agreement.

The classroom they were in had 8 long desks, 4 on each side of the room, with 3 seats per desk. So taking that into account, the group should consist of one student per desk. Seeing as Peter was sitting right behind her, that meant they would be in the same group.

Peter looked at who would be in his group. Aside from her, there were Sally (“It is Sally, right? Right…?”) and behind him was a guy whose name he couldn’t really recall. (“It’s either Tyler or Abe, I think…?”) Peter could kind of remember them being active in other classes, so that was a sigh of relief for him.

Until another student piped up.

“I don’t want to be in this group!”

Peter glanced at that student. ‘Ah, this one I know,’ he thought with a slight eye roll.

Eugene Thompson, though he insisted to be called Flash. He’d been loud in every class they shared and bragged a lot. One of those rich kids, Peter assumed. Growing up in a modest household, bragging about money was never something he could understand. If you had enough money to brag about, then maybe use them for charities and stuff instead? At least that was Peter’s opinion.

“Then which group do you want to be, uhh, Thompson, was it?” Sally asked.

“Call me Flash,” he answered. “And I don’t know, I just don’t want to be in this group!”

“Why?”

“I just don’t like it.” Flash shrugged nonchalantly.

Peter could see Sally’s eye twitch in annoyance. “It’s just one assignment and you don’t really have a reason.” She tried to say.

“Why would I need a reason? Mrs. Warren said we can choose our own groups, and I don’t want to be in this one. I don’t vibe with it.”

Despite being annoyed himself, Peter decided to just sit back and watch everything unfold. He didn’t need to attract attention to himself. With his big glasses and frail figure, he looked very nerdy and jocks like Flash liked to pick on nerds. He didn’t need that.

The banter between Sally and Flash went on for a while. Peter was sure everyone in the class was pissed but no one said anything, probably because they didn’t know each other and didn’t want to say something wrong accidentally. It was getting very annoying, though. And to make it worse, Mrs. Warren didn’t seem to care.

While listening to Flash, he didn’t notice the girl sitting in front of him glaring heatedly at Flash with clenched fists and gritted teeth.

“I’m just saying, why can’t I-”

SMACK!

Flash’s words were interrupted by a sudden loud smacking noise, causing nearly everyone to flinch.

The girl in front of Peter had smacked her palm on her desk and stood up, pointedly glaring at Flash with a glare so intense it could probably burn him, clearly seething with anger.

“STOP MAKING EVERYTHING DIFFICULT, FOR GOD’S SAKE!” She yelled.

Peter blinked.

Did the quiet reserved girl just… yell?

“What do you think you’re doing, huh?!” She yelled again, this time coming closer to Flash. Flash gulped and took a step back. “You don’t even know anyone in this class! It’s only our FIRST WEEK!”

“But I-”

“ZIP IT!”

Flash shut his mouth so fast Peter could hear his teeth clacking.

“Our teacher is waiting for us right now! If you have any complaints about your group then speak up properly once you KNOW them! SO JUST GO WITH IT FOR NOW AND GET THIS DONE AND OVER WITH!”

The class was silent. She was still glaring at Flash and Flash was cowering in fear.

To be honest, Peter was afraid of her too, but deep inside he was impressed. When no one else spoke up, she did. Maybe with a bit of an overkill, but she still spoke for the rest of them. He’d take that.

“Any more complaints?” She asked through gritted teeth.

Flash quickly shook his head.

“Good.”

She sat back down and looked away as if nothing happened.

No one said anything for a while, still in a bit of a shock.

“Um, well…” Sally cleared her throat, “So are we decided then? With this arrangement?”

A chorus of yes later and Mrs. Warren finally spoke, “Give me your group lists later after class. I trust you can arrange it, Ms. Avril?”

Sally nodded, “Yes, ma’am.”

“Okay, let’s start our lesson for today.”

As Mrs. Warren started teaching, Peter couldn’t help but stare at the girl in front of him. This was the first time he actually looked at her.

The first thing he noticed, although it may sounded rude, was her… size, so to speak. She was considerably bigger than the rest of the girls in his class. She was clad in plain unisex clothes. From what he had seen earlier, he could find no trace of makeup on her either. She actually looked a little messy, not fitting into that traditional feminine look.

Not that Peter had anything against femininity or even not conforming to said femininity. He was raised by a respectful pair of husband and wife who drilled respect for diversity and people’s choices into him. Aunt May would also have his head if he had even the slightest misogynistic thought. No, he knew better than that.

Around ¾ into the lesson, Mrs. Warren told them to go into their groups and start discussing their projects.

“Let’s start with introduction, I guess?” Sally said once all four of them were together. “I’m Sally Avril, but just call me Sally.”

“I know, I was in your History class.” The girl from before said. Her voice was actually quite soft when she wasn’t yelling. Peter was once again surprised by her.

Sally giggled at her, prompting her to let out a small smile. “I’m (y/n) (l/n). Feel free to call me (y/n).” She said quietly.

“I also know that already. You sat two desks from me, didn’t you?” Sally asked with a smile.

(Y/n) nodded. “Also I apologize for earlier… I just couldn’t stand him.” (Y/n) muttered with narrowed eyes.

“We don’t blame you, honestly,” the other guy in the group said. “Flash was being a dick. I’m actually glad you spoke up against him,” he snickered. “I’m Tyler Corbyn, by the way. People usually just call me Ty.”

“It’s just that no one said anything, so I thought I had to put a stop on it. He was disrespecting our teacher by misusing the time she gave us like that.” (Y/n) scoffed.

“And you?” Sally turned to Peter.

“Oh, um… Peter. Peter Parker.” He mumbled.

“Okay, now that we’re introduced, let’s talk about the assignment, shall we?”

After the discussion, the group agreed to meet up after school on Monday to start their project.

Sometimes Peter would let himself glanced at (y/n). He had to admit, even if he was still a bit scared of her, she didn’t seem that bad. He just needed to not press her buttons or risk her blowing up. She still had a short temper, after all.

He was certain that the rest of his classmates realized this too. They were all afraid of her, for sure.

It was kind of a bummer, but her display of anger that day would follow her for nearly her entire high school days. All the boys in their class feared her, especially Flash, and tried to avoid her. The girls would eventually befriend her once they know more about her.

And Peter? Well… He may thought she was scary for now, but there was respect within him. His Physics class seemed quite interesting now.

——————————

Notes: yes, I did yell in class when the professor was present and yes, she didn’t give a shit about it.

Taglist + Mutuals (let me know if you want me to untag you!)

@marvelexi @lou-la-lou @spiderbibby @hello–zuko-here @everydaymj @galaxystern08​ @allegra-soleil​ @fancyxparker​ @delicatepeterparker @parkerpeter24​ @terrifictomholland​ @quackeroos​ @angel-spidey​ @greenorangevioletgrass​  @awkward-darkness​ @chloecreatesfictions-archive​ @tonguetiedholland​ @peterspideysstuff​ @and-it-burns-like-a-fire​ @geminiparkers @weirdowithnobeardo @perspectiveparker

[spaceskam]

Hello! For Title Tuesday, how about 33 and wangxian, since I recently fell into this ship and am still swooning and desperate for more! Thank you, love everything you do!

thank you! and thank you for waiting a week too! I’ll add the ao3 link whenever I get the chance to post it over there, I hope you like it!

title tuesday instructions

tags: cql canon, post-canon, a bit of sad and lonely WWX 

33. an uncomfortable month [ao3]

When Wei Wuxian came back to Cloud Recesses, he’d been excited.

He missed Sizhui and Wen Ning and having a reliable place to sleep and bathe, but mainly he missed Lan Zhan. He’d been so excited to hang on him again, to trick him into staying up past curfew by talking for hours and it was simply rude to fall asleep while someone was talking, to catch those moments when he smiled. He missed them together, whatever that meant and in whatever capacity he was allowed to have it in.

However, he hadn’t expected it to be so… weird. Awkward, maybe, was a better word. Lan Zhan was, for the most part, the same, but he was always so busy and so Wei Wuxian had to entertain himself. To make matters worse, apparently, people thought he was the great Hanguang-Jun’s ward. At first it’d been funny, but now it was simply annoying.

“Lan Zhan,” he whined, pouting and squishing his face against Lan Zhan’s arm. He didn’t slow down his pace or even accommodate Wei Wuxian’s affections, so he took the hint and stood up straight. He rolled his shoulders, shaking away that little bud that was beginning to blossom inside him that did nothing but remind him that he was unwanted. He was hoping to get rid of it before he couldn’t ignore it. “Lan Zhan, what did you tell them? I’ve told three separate people that I’m not your ward and not a single one of them believed me.”

“Mn.”

“Mn,” Wei Wuxian mimicked, rolling his eyes, “What does that mean?”

“I have said nothing to anyone about my relationship to Wei Ying,” he said.

“Yeah, including me,” Wei Wuxian grumbled softly. Lan Wangji tilted his head slightly in his direction as if listening and Wei Wuxian managed a laugh, petting his arm. “I’m teasing, Lan Zhan. So, what, do I just let them think that? What if rumors start about my age, though? Aren’t wards much younger?”

“Let them come to their own conclusion,” Lan Zhan said firmly. Wei Wuxian’s face felt warm at the implication. Though, maybe there were no implications and his mind was just a bit naughty.

His mind had definitely been awfully naughty these days.

“So, you won’t mind what they say when I stay in the Jingshi long past curfew?” Wei Wuxian asked. Lan Zhan didn’t answer which meant he didn’t mind. Wei Wuxian leaned closer. “But what will they say if I don’t leave at all?”

Lan Zhan came to a halt, turning to him. Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened a bit, shocked he was getting that much of a reaction. Lan Zhan hadn’t really given him much of a reaction since he came back. It was all very cordial. Plain. Wei Wuxian never overstayed his welcome at the Jingshi because of it, regardless of how much he wanted to take a nap in his bed again. It was much warmer than the guest rooms.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said, staring at him. His eyes slowly grazed over his face and then further down and Wei Wuxian felt a bit lightheaded. “Are your rooms not satisfactory?”

“No,” he said. Lan Zhan blinked and then nodded before Wei Wuxian’s brain processed anything at all. “No! I mean, yes, I mean, they’re fine. Fine.”

Lan Zhan took a slow, even breath. “Wei Ying.”

“I suppose I was under the impression that I would be staying in the Jingshi,” Wei Wuxian said slowly, stupidly, but it didn’t matter. He didn’t know how long Lan Zhan planned to let him stay here, but it couldn’t be too much longer. “You know, like we did last time.”

“Wei Ying was here under pressing circumstances last time,” Lan Zhan pointed out, his eyebrows pulled together just enough to show his confusion. It was such a small change from his normal expression that Wei Wuxian barely caught it. “Wei Ying deserves a space of his own for however long he will be here.”

And it was so sweet that Wei Wuxian didn’t have the heart to tell him that he didn’t really mind sharing if it meant sharing with Lan Zhan. In fact, he’d much rather that. If they were in the same room, then they would at least see each other every day without Wei Wuxian having to hunt him down.

But Lan Zhan had been very thoughtful and Wei Wuxian smiled.

“Oh. I suppose I misunderstood,” he said. Lan Zhan blinked slowly and he took a step forward.

“Wei Ying can stay as long as he desires. And he can have whatever he desires. If he wishes to stay in the Jingshi, he is welcome,” Lan Zhan said. Wei Wuxian nodded slowly in understanding, but his cheeks just started to grow warm and he found himself laughing for no reason. It wasn’t funny. He did it anyway.

“Silly Lan Zhan, you don’t want to give me your house! I am just a ward, don’t you remember?” Wei Wuxian laughed. Lan Zhan blinked, but then nodded his head once.

Lan Zhan continued to walk and Wei Wuxian followed as they made their way to the open courtyard where young disciples were practicing sword forms. They were all around 13 or 14 and greeted Lan Zhan with a warm ‘Hanguang-Jun’ and then quickly averted their eyes from Wei Wuxian. They hadn’t done that before he left, even when they knew he was the Yiling Laozu. He put a little more space between him and Lan Zhan, just to be safe.

The days continued on like this, Lan disciples averting their eyes and Lan Zhan just being eerily calm. Not to say he wasn’t always calm, but he seemed almost sedated. Wei Wuxian wasn’t sure how to handle that. He would press his luck and stay later in the Jingshi, but he was never told to leave even as Lan Wangji went about his business to prepare for bed. It was like he didn’t care about anything but work. Wei Wuxian felt like he’d missed a step.

“A-Yuan!” Wei Wuxian called, walking a bit faster than was Lan appropriate to catch up with him. He was the only one who’s behavior made sense. Sweet and righteous and adorable. 

“Wei-qianbei,” Lan Sizhui said warmly, bowing politely. Then he stood up, paused a moment, and went in for a short hug. That was another thing that made sense. He always gave him hugs when no one else was around. Wei Wuxian gave them freely right back.

“A-Yuan, could I ask you something? Between you and I, of course,” Wei Wuxian said, trying to keep his voice diplomatic as they continued to walk. It made him smile so big his eyes turned into little crescents. Adorable, truly.

“Yes, Wei-qianbei, anything.”

“Did something happen while I was gone? The Lans have never been exactly fond of me, but viewing me as Hanguang-Jun’s ward and being too awkward to even look my way is definitely new. Did a rumor about me spread? I haven’t heard any,” Wei Wuxian said, tapping his nose thoughtfully. He’d tried to come up with reasons and failed each time. “Even your Hanguang-Jun has been weird.”

“Ah,” Lan Sizhui said, giving a tense little smile and looking away quickly as his cheeks began to burn red. Wei Wuxian stopped walking, putting his hand on his arm.

“A-Yuan,” he said, using the same tone of voice he’d used when he would tell him to spit out whatever he’d shoved in his mouth 16 years ago now. It was enough to make him tilt his head back in Wei Wuxian’s direction.

“Hanguang-Jun just… made it very clear that you were not to be disrespected,” he said carefully. Wei Wuxian’s eyebrows furrowed.

“What does that mean?”

Lan Sizhui pushed his hair off his neck and looked around. Wei Wuxian put his hands on his hips and waited for an explanation. Hanguang-Jun had been acting strange as well. What the hell could he have possibly done?

“Have you been to the Jingshi?” Lan Sizhui asked quietly.

“Of course I have.”

“Then have you not… noticed?”

“Noticed what?” 

Lan Sizhui’s face flushed again and he shyly looked at Wei Wuxian which only furthered his confusion. He went to the Jingshi nearly every day. Had he missed something that obvious?

“Perhaps you should ask Hanguang-Jun. It doesn’t feel like my place to say,” Sizhui said. Wei Wuxian scrunched up his nose and sighed.

“Everything is so difficult around here,” he said, earning a small smile from Sizhui. Wei Wuxian reached out to smooth his forehead ribbon carefully. “Fine, I suppose I’ll ask.”

“Alright, Wei-qianbei.”

“Once I straighten that, we’ll address this Wei-qianbei nonsense. Am I not worthy enough to be your Xian-gege anymore?” Wei Wuxian asked, enjoying the sound of his laughter. That made sense. If A-Yuan was laughing and smiling with him, then things couldn’t be that bad. He was sure of it.

“Alright, Xian-gege.”

Wei Wuxian spent his day as normal as he could, though he was already prepared to pack up if need be. He would ask Lan Zhan what he’d missed and see what he said, but he didn’t want to be in a place where everyone wouldn’t even look his way anymore. It was too uncomfortable.

He didn’t want to leave Lan Zhan and he wouldn’t if he didn’t have to, but it was beginning to feel like he had to.

As the day began to wind to an end and it was around the time that Lan Wangji would be retiring to the Jingshi, Wei Wuxian made a point to beat him there. He let himself in and took a look around, trying to notice if there was anything amiss. Nothing stood out.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said as he entered in complete silence. Wei Wuxian spun around to face him, smiling as innocent as he could. 

Lan Zhan eyed him skeptically, not buying it for a moment and yet not calling him out either. It was little things like that that reminded him that Lan Zhan was a grown man now and not a hot-headed teenager. Not that he’d ever admit he was hot-headed, but still.

“Lan Zhan! I was waiting for you, let’s eat,” Wei Wuxian said, coming close and plucking the tray of food out of Lan Zhan’s hands. He brought it to the table and knelt on one side. Lan Zhan was still watching him closely as he placed Bichen on its stand and came closer.

Lan Zhan knelt at the other side of the table and poured tea for the both of them. Wei Wuxian smiled in his gratitude and downed it. They ate in silence which seemed to be an immediate warning flag for Lan Zhan if the way he was staring said anything. Granted, Wei Wuxian never listened to that particular Lan rule before.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan said softly as their meal ended. It was around the time he usually started moving around the room to prepare for bed. And it was the night he usually took a bath, so typically he would go to the other side of the privacy screen and disrobe while Wei Wuxian talked through his body lighting on fire from the inside. “Is there something wrong?”

“Ah, why would something be wrong?” Wei Wuxian laughed. Really, he just wasn’t quite ready to ask what happened after he left to travel last time. What had made all the Lan disciples look away and spread rumors that he was a ward. He still couldn’t get over that. A ward! How could they possibly think he was a ward? 

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan repeated.

Wei Wuxian sighed and let his shoulders sink a bit, his eyes going anywhere but in Lan Zhan’s direction as he fiddled with his robes. It shouldn’t be so hard to ask.

“Lan Zhan,” he said, “What changed while I was gone? I asked A-Yuan, but, you know, just like his Hanguang-Jun, he’s all too respectful to tell me what is yours to say. So all I ask is what happened to make everyone avoid me. More than they avoided me when they knew I was just the Yiling Laozu which, honestly, is impressive.”

Lan Zhan stared at him for a long moment and Wei Wuxian would’ve thought he was just annoyed by the question if not for the way his ears were slowly burning brighter and brighter with each breath. Wei Wuxian tilted his head.

“Lan-er-gege, what did you do?” Wei Wuxian asked, a bit of teasing in his voice if only to lighten the tension.

“My sect will be ordered to stop avoiding you. I apologize for their lack of respect,” Lan Zhan said. Wei Wuxian rolled his eyes.

“Aiya, Lan Zhan! You know that isn’t it! Now, tell me,” Wei Wuxian said. Lan Zhan took a deep breath and stared at him. Wei Wuxian pushed himself up on his knees and walked on them over to him. He sat down right beside him, their knees nearly touching. “Is it something bad? Would it be easier for me to leave?”

That got his attention and Lan Zhan looked at him quickly, his eyes sharp and determined. They both knew Lan Zhan wouldn’t keep him here if he didn’t want to, but Wei Wuxian felt a rush of warmth at the idea that Lan Zhan would still give a lot to make him want to be here. To feel welcome in his home. That was nice.

“Alright,” Lan Zhan said, his hands clutching his robes, “I had a larger bed constructed.”

“Ah?” Wei Wuxian breathed, eyebrows coming together in confusion. He looked over his shoulder to the bed and, yes, maybe it was a bit larger than when he slept in it last, but it wasn’t that much larger. Just… big enough for two. “You’re… getting married?” Wei Wuxian asked slowly, dread poking at his gut and against those quiet sounds of ‘you’re not welcome, no one wants you here’ pried into his mind.

“Wei Ying,” Lan Zhan breathed, looking some mix of fond and exasperated. Wei Wuxian could hear his heart in his ears.

“What does a larger bed have to do with me?” he asked. Lan Zhan slowly closed his eyes. Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened when he realized what the Lans were thinking, what they must be assuming he and their brilliant Chief Cultivator were doing in that large bed. “Ah! And they’re calling me a ward? Is that to save their own thoughts? How shameless of them, Lan Zhan.”

“And not shameless of me?” he asked, tilting his head. Wei Wuxian blinked and then nearly melted.

“Oh. Lan Zhan,” he teased, gently pushing his shoulder. Wei Wuxian’s insides were similar to the way he felt when he knew he was naked behind a privacy screen‒entirely on fire to the point he was almost dizzy. “Were your disciples not just assuming, Lan Zhan? Well, that would explain why A-Yuan got so flustered when I asked. Ah! You are shameless. But, don’t worry, shamelessness looks very nice on you.”

Lan Zhan’s smile slowly appeared and that was nice. Similar to A-Yuan’s, if Lan Zhan was smiling then nothing could ever really be wrong.

“Then why would you give me my own quarters? And why would you act so scandalized when I asked why I wasn’t living in the Jingshi? Lan Zhan, you’re terrible at courting!” Wei Wuxian pointed out. However, saying the word courting out loud when he was speaking about the two of them made a little too obvious what was going on and he leaned closer to Lan Zhan to keep his mind busy. “And still your disciples were thinking things that hadn’t even happened yet.”

“Yet?” Lan Zhan asked, ignoring his questions that were honestly rather important. But, well, he could get those answers later he supposed.

“Yet,” Wei Wuxian repeated, eyes scanning his face. He was so handsome. All of those naughty thoughts that Wei Wuxian had shoved away out of respect came back to the surface very quickly. “Lan Zhan.”

When Wei Wuxian found himself sprawled half-naked on the bed within the Jingshi, he didn’t finally notice the size difference.

[calypsoff]

Eighty Six.

This sucks so bad, like this whole situation is horrible. Like Robyn really pushing through with this, she could at least come back home. I am not that bad, I made a mistake let me make it up to her but she is adamant in staying with Mel, Rorrey picks up Rylee and brings her here to me, I haven’t seen Robyn since we landed. That was a whole week ago, I have nothing to do but be at home and just run my business that Rorrey is of course helping me with, it is so kind of him to help me with everything. I was wondering if he hasn’t got better things to do then look after me but no, he said he doesn’t mind, he enjoys my company. Getting this home I didn’t think of moments like this, having to get down the steps by sliding down on my ass, it’s a whole mission but I don’t have my wife to help me. The bedsheets haven’t been changed since she’s left so this is fun, I can barely make the bed too, she did everything for me, literally did everything. But Robyn on the other hand, she is having fun since I have broke my leg. She has been out every night, I am seeing pictures of her out, I am jealous because she looks so well, she looks so happy and acting like I am not giving her heartache, but I am sorry. She does do one thing, cleans my clothes and sends them to me but still, I miss her a lot. Rylee is not filling the void at all “I can always hear you coming down” Rorrey laughed as he ate his cereal “I am not carrying you like that, I nearly died” I chuckled, we are dumb “I hate it because like by the time I be getting to bed I burn off all my food, then I be hungry again” shaking my head “should text me, I will bring you some food” nodding my head “I am glad you’re here though, thank you” it is nice of him “it’s fine, but I will say this. You need a cleaner to come, the home is getting dusty” I sighed out, he has a point “let me call Robyn” I joked “you want your head on a plate” Rorrey laughed “she would have your head nigga” he isn’t wrong.

Rorrey can cook, I have to give it to him. He’s been cooking for me every day “I’m gonna ring my dad, finally” Rorrey cheered “stop dodging your parents, they only want the best for you. Just tell them, you messed up” he laughed, I sighed out. I haven’t exactly told my parents about what happened to me, and that my leg is in a cast, I didn’t even tell them about Robyn and I falling out meaning that she left, they know we was arguing but not that she left the home, so this will be fun “son, I am working” oh he is, I forget that he does “sorry; you on a break or something. I really need to speak to you” the line went silent, that is a disapproving silence because I think he knows that I have fucked up more “Christopher” my dad said “yeah” he knows me well “I have time” I chuckled a little “so erm, yeah. Robyn isn’t living with me anymore; you know when you asked. I lied, I have been on tour with Drake all that time and not seeing my daughter, I didn’t spend Christmas with them either. I spent it alone at the house, she is with her friend. I didn’t spend new year with her either, I went out to Tyga’ new year party. But then we met up in New York, like Robyn had been trying to prove a point to me, a point I was ignoring so what happened was I heard drake admitting he was playing me all this time, that he wanted Robyn. I lost my temper and chased him, and we both fell down the steps and I broke my foot so now I am back home in a cast with a semi naked man in my kitchen” Rorrey laughed out “what is funny about this situation Chris, I am angry with you!” my dad didn’t like the joke at the end, but it was funny to me.

This is why I didn’t want to tell my dad any of this, I know what the reaction would be like, he can be so dramatic at times “I am in shock, so the times you have been calling me and your mother you have been single and going around places, like where? You spent New Years where?” my dad is angry as shit, I am glad I am not in VA, he would beat my ass “you stupid boy answer me!” he shouted “just like Canada and then toured with Drake to like near enough every city in the America, and went to parties and on the New Year I spent it with Tyga, and then stayed at his home” I mumbled “is any of this ok!?” he is shouting a lot “no dad, I understand what you are saying. And I know none of this is normal or good, I thought I would tell you because you needed to know” Rorrey cringed, I think he can hear my dad going crazy “we asked you, me and your mother facetimed you and you said we are ok but then it comes together, I asked to see Rylee and she wasn’t there, you are so stupid. Your wife has left you and you did all this!? You know how stupid you look, you aren’t no Picasso Chris, you are in the same position as me. You have a beautiful, respectful wife and she has left you and you do this!? She has left you Chris, how does it feel, I would be losing my mind over your mother, and you are pointless and pathetic, sitting there in her home in a cast. I am angry with you Chris, very angry, she has giving you so much life and opportunity and you give her shit, I was here! I was here when you were speaking to her. I didn’t raise that; you aren’t my son because I didn’t raise such a disrespectful boy. I kept saying jail changed him, yes jail did play a part but not every part, now you are plain stupid!” putting my head down, I am going to take it because he isn’t wrong, what can I say, I fucked up “first thing Chris, first thing in line is your wife is always right. When your wife says that friend is no good, he is no good! You don’t look the other way, he wanted your wife, and you didn’t listen, you heard the opposite, you practically blamed your wife in this. You judged her, I didn’t raise that no. I didn’t, I am so angry at you. That is your family Christopher, you left this home disrespectful, and you got there even worse” my dad would have beat my ass, I am glad I am not there at all.

I remained silent; I respect my dad so much. He is my everything and what he says is right so I wouldn’t back chat him like that “so now what? You have a broken foot, and my grandchild is where? I can’t believe you allowed your child to be away from you that long, you have the perfect opportunity to be there for her every day where I had to work, I am jealous of that, but you did that? So where are they now? What are you doing to fix this” chewing on my bottom lip, oh boy. This next part is going to be fun “she is with Mel, she bought me back home and said she isn’t coming home. We have been back for a week, and she has been out every night, what can I do with a broken foot dad!?” I spat “everything! You move the world, if the world stops you, you move it. What haven’t you learnt Chris, you knock on that door, you be there. Women will push and push and push until they can’t, and they will stop. You fight Chris, what do you want!? Do you want Robyn?” nodding my head “more then ever, I miss her so much, but she is really not wanting to hear me, you know?” Rorrey pointed at my plate before walking off, nodding my head at him “she doesn’t want to hear you, doesn’t mean she doesn’t want to see you. Do you expect her to come to you? A week alone is too long, you disrespected your wife and then more, you need to be there Chris” my dad is right “I have been laid back” I mumbled “moving aside how I am angry at you, you better. I mean it Chris, you fight for her and show her that you mean it. She loves you Chris, it’s so hard to find love and you got it, this is what you do?” I feel so bad right now.

Rorrey is quiet with me, he knows I needed time to think and just digest what my dad was just saying to me, he said a lot and honestly I do deserve it, I fucked up big time “I can’t eat, but thank you” I said “it’s cool” I feel bad I am wasting it “I upset your sister, but you are here for me? I just find it crazy, you know?” Rorrey smiled a little “my sister loves you Chris, if she didn’t I wouldn’t be here. She asked me to be with you, to stay with you because she didn’t want you to be alone, she is caring for you from afar but the longer you wait around it will get boring and she will see you as nothing, my sister doesn’t wait around, and I am shocked she is for you, but she is loves you. She said it’s me he upset, not you. She asked and I came, I am not going to get involved because honestly, it’s not like you cheated but you need to learn how to talk to my sister too, I don’t like it either, but we move forward” Rorrey is a good man “thank you, you think I should go to Mel’ home?” he chuckled “why not, your daughter is there. As long as I can drive your car then nigga I am down” I chuckled “of course, you can take it whenever” I don’t mind him driving them at all “Robyn is going to be fake annoyed to see you but ride the wave brother” I need too.

Everything is so tiring, meaning that I have to drag my leg around. Climbing into my Urus car was dreadful btu I got there “you know what Rorrey, I think I am going to get Drake back. I am going to air him out for this, what you think?” I need to get his advice, he knows his shit “why not, he hurt you. Maybe you can’t do anything meaning like beat his ass, but you can surely air him out for this shit, it is so childish and petty you know” that means I can, I have been deleting all the posts of Drake, everything. All traces of that nigga, I really fucking hate him for what he has done to me. Going onto my Instagram, I have a little something written out, I want people to know what kind of nigga he is, he is a bitch ass nigga, and it may be long as fuck this post, but niggas need to know that he ran from the fade he was going to get, going to my drafts. I have all this written out, I just needed Rorrey to say I should, and I should. Reading over the post that I made ‘Always believe and trust in your wife when she says the nigga is a bitch nigga, your wife knows who is real and who isn’t but y’all king is a bitch nigga. Someone that can’t handle rejection and then runs from a fade. I know y’all seen me with a cast on my leg, that is because this bitch @champagnepapi ran down the stairs because he couldn’t fight me, this nigga thing he could take my wife, this sick motherfucker that caught herpes from a stripper thinks he could be with my wife! I ain’t even going to get you nigga don’t worry; I am done with you and your sly team that lowkey hate each other. You can come at me with anything because I know I didn’t do anything on that tour. I just need y’all to know that it wasn’t some accident, if you ever look at my wife again I won’t miss’ pressing send on the post anyways, I don’t care anymore.

Stood behind Rorrey as we waited on Mel or whoever to open the door, they are taking their time anyways “they see me here ain’t they?” Rorrey laughed shaking his head, the door opened eventually “sorry, we were pointing on who was going to answer. Come in..” Mel dragged out “what a pleasant surprise, you came along?” nodding my head “to see my daughter” I sad, Mel moved out of the way to let us in “she is playing, well I say that but she is on her playmat” I hate these crutches so fucking much, making my way inside “Robyn is not here by the way” Mel added, I sighed out. I want to ask where, but I will anyways “where is she?” I had to ask “a meeting, so it’s just me, Tina and Rylee” I can wait for her, I need to be persistent in this. I need to get my wife back, I am so excited to see her, I love Robyn.

My mind really hasn’t been on Rylee at all, and it sounds bad of me, but I am just waiting for Robyn to come in, she is looking amazing. Like her body is just looking so good, she is doing the most of course but I need to get her back, stop her showing off her body like that I mean I ain’t like other niggas seeing it but who am I to be overprotective like that, I just need her back “this dumb bitch took us to the damn ghetto” my head shot to the door seeing Jahleel first “what you mean, what she done now?” Mel asked, “she wanted food and then we took a turning, we had her fans chasing us” my smile grew seeing Robyn all smiles, she is smiling and that is making me smile “I was hungry” she said, then she noticed me and her smile went “got lost?” she said, I cleared my throat “I came to see Rylee” I pointed out “should have asked, I could have delivered her to you” licking my top lip “I thought I would save you the trouble” the whole room is so silent, they are listening to us both and watching us “I prefer the trouble” she sniggered “clearly, anyways I am going to change” she walked off bag in hand, she is so fine and she looks so much more happier, maybe it’s me I don’t know but she is very vibrant, I am not sure what to do.

[theraputicwritings]

Fragile Masculinity

A/N: I’m back and I am soooo happy! It’s been a long two years without writing and I apologize for it. I’ve been dealing with a lot that’s made it difficult for me to find inspiration and motivation to write. But lately, I’ve felt the bug. I’ve been rewatching Criminal Minds and have really wanted to write about Spencer Reid. I’m moving next week and I plan to write a story, blurb, or maybe even start a full ass fic every night that I am on the road. Should be about five days and I’m excited for the challenge. In the mean time, I wanted to share this story that I’ve had in my brain for the past week and I finally sat down to write it two days ago. It’s my first Spencer x reader and I really hope you all enjoy it. It was fun to write which is exactly why I love writing so much!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Word Count: 2,988

Warnings: Canon-typical violence, mentions of murder, rape, torture, fluff, angst

“You could certainly say that I’ve never underestimated myself. There’s nothing wrong with being ambitious.” – Angela Merkel

Another difficult case. All of the cases had their own thing that made them unique and difficult but this one just took the icing on the cake. Five women. All cops. All tortured, raped, and then murdered. Their bodies had been discarded like trash. It had been two days and while the team had developed a profile, it didn’t feel like they were any closer to finding the unsub who was doing this.

You had just finished making two cups of coffee, one black and one with an ungodly amount of sugar.

“Here, just the way you like it,” you said, handing the coffee to the BAU’s resident genius, Spencer Reid.

“Thanks…” He took the cup but didn’t turn to look at you. His face was set and focused as he stared at the map on the case board.

You sighed and faced the board as well, staring at the different victims who had died. Two of them while you were in the small town. You couldn’t help but feel a level of responsibility for their deaths. If the team had just been there sooner, maybe those women would still be alive.

“Hey, sweetheart, why don’t you make me a cup of coffee too?”

The voice made the hairs on your arms stand up and you could feel Spencer tense up as well.

It was one of the officers of the precinct. This was the third time he’d asked you to make him a cup of coffee. The first time you were already by the pot, so you made him a cup to be polite. The second time, you were just about to give the profile and you’d declined, using the excuse of being busy. It had been annoying before, but now it just felt plain disrespectful.

You slowly turned to him and raised an eyebrow. He had a smug look on his face and it made your blood boil even more.

“First off, it’s Agent. Not sweetheart, not honey, not babe. Agent. Second, I’m not an intern, secretary, or assistant. Go make your own damn coffee. Now if that is all…”

You trailed off and smoothly turned back to face the case board and your partner. You stayed silent until you heard the officer’s heavy boots stomp away.

Before you could say anything, Spencer chuckled under his breath.

You turned to him and raised an eyebrow.

“What? Did you think that was too much?” Your voice dared him to disagree, but you knew that he wouldn’t.

You two quickly became good friends when you joined the team. Lately, you’d been getting signals that maybe Spencer wanted to be more. You wouldn’t have minded it, honestly. The two of you got along really well and you did care for Spencer. But with work, thinking of a relationship got pushed to the back corner. You didn’t have time to pine over a relationship. Especially at that moment.

“No, I’m surprised you didn’t snap sooner,” Spencer smirked and took a sip of his coffee.

You shook your head and smiled.

“He’s just lucky that didn’t happen. I don’t think his fragile masculinity could handle much more.”

With that, you spent the next several hours, pouring over the case together. Based on the victims and how they died it was so clear that this man despised women and maybe even more so women with some form of power. He saw them as a threat to his masculinity and so did everything he could to tear them down. Based on the profile he was probably in his mid to late thirties and cocky. He had a dominant personality but had probably had his masculinity squashed throughout his childhood and adult years. Now he was trying to prove himself in the only way he could think to do it.

The profile was detailed and good, but there was something missing in it. It was on the tip of your tongue, but you just couldn’t tell what.

By the time the rest of the team had come back, you weren’t much closer to finding it, but it was starting to get late into the day. You weren’t going to give up though. More than likely there was going to be another woman missing tonight and you wanted to find the bastard before that happened.

When the words started to swim off of the case board, you decided to step outside for some fresh air. It was cold, and there was a fresh blanket of snow on the ground. It woke you up more than the coffee had and it helped refresh your brain.

As you looked up at the clear night sky, you thought more about the case. Clearly, you weren’t making the connection on something but you couldn’t tell what. You were so caught up in your thoughts, that you didn’t hear the familiar heavy boots as they came up to you.

“I’ll show you fragile masculinity.”

The voice was low and followed by a swift blow to the back of your head. Instantly you dropped like a bag of potatoes and were out cold.

———

Back at the station, it had only been a few minutes, but Spencer had already noticed you weren’t back yet. It wasn’t that he stalked you, but you’d caught his eye since the day you joined. It was difficult to admit, but Spencer liked you a lot more than just a friend. You stood out in a room. You were witty, bright, and you always took an interest in Spencer. Even when the team shut his ramblings down, you encouraged him to continue or would ask him about it later. You cared for him and it made him feel good.

“Hey guys, has Y/N returned? I haven’t seen her.”

After a chorus of no’s and head shakes, Spencer stood up from the conference table.

“I’m gonna go check on her, make sure she’s okay.”

He didn’t know why but he had a gut feeling that something was wrong.

His instincts were right, of course. When he got outside, his keen eyes instantly spotted the blood on the ground where you’d been attacked. As soon as he saw it, his head jerked up and looked around the dark street. There was a clear path where your body must have been dragged off.

Spencer knew he should have grabbed the team, but with the snow coming down, he didn’t want the tracks being covered. So he drew his gun and slowly started to follow the drag marks. They only led to an alley where a car must have been parked waiting. From the tire marks, he could tell it was a large truck, but the snow made it difficult to find out which direction you had been taken in.

Quickly, Spencer ran back into the police station and burst through the conference room doors.

“She’s gone!” He exclaimed! “There’s blood outside and I followed his tracks but it led to nothing. Guys, I think the unsub has her!”

His voice was panicked and immediately everyone jumped into action. Morgan and Emily ran outside to get a better assessment of the crime scene. Meanwhile, Rossi and Hotch asked Reid questions about what he’d seen and started working on finding out who had grabbed you.

——-

You woke up in a dark room and the first thing you realized was pain at the base of your skull. The second thing you realized was that your hands were tied above your head and you were dangling from the ceiling. With a groan, you blinked and tried to adjust your eyes to the darkness.

You didn’t have to worry about that too much though, because in seconds the overhead lights had been flickered on. You closed your eyes hard as the brightness made your headache only that much more intense.

When it didn’t seem to be that bad, you slowly blinked and took in your surroundings. Your profiler brain worked quickly as you figured out that the unsub must have taken you. It looked like you were either in a basement somewhere or in a cellar. You could tell you were underground though. It was very cold and that’s when you noticed you were only wearing your underwear and a tank top.

“Well don’t you look all pretty dangling like that. I could just eat you up, sweetheart.”

As soon as he said sweetheart, your body tensed. You knew exactly who it was and you kicked yourself for not realizing who the unsub was sooner. It was the officer who you’d snapped at.

The young man sauntered down a flight of steps and you mentally willed for him to fall. That didn’t happen, of course, and has he got closer, you braced yourself.

You didn’t acknowledge him though. You knew any response wouldn’t do you any good. This man wanted to hear you be afraid of him and you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.

As he got in front of you, he grabbed the chain that was dangling you from the ceiling. It was attached to some sort of pulley and he used it to slowly drag you down until you were forced to be on your knees in front him.

“Now look at that? Doesn’t that just feel right sweetheart? You’re exactly where a woman should be. Beneath the man, ready to submit and serve him.”

Your face was defiant as you looked him right in the eye.

“I wouldn’t submit to you if you were the last man on earth. Go to hell.”

This made him smirk and he yanked you back to your feet. You could feel your arms screaming in pain as you stretched into the awkward position.

“You know, if you had just kept your pretty mouth shut, smiled, said yes sir, and made me a cup of coffee, you wouldn’t be in here. But now you are. And by the time I get through with you, you’re going to submit.”

His voice was calm and that almost scared you more than anything else. He’d clearly had the practice of torturing women before and you mentally prepared yourself for what you knew was about to happen. All the while praying that your team would find you still alive. And if they didn’t… well, you hoped they didn’t grieve for too long. And you didn’t plan to go down without a fight. There was no way you were going to submit to this pig.

———

You didn’t know how much time had passed. The only thing you knew was the pain. But you hadn’t made a single sound, not a tear was shed. You just continued your hard stare into this man’s eyes as he performed different types of torture. At first, he had just used his fists. When that didn’t get the response he wanted he found a crowbar and started to use you as his own personal piñata.

You didn’t know how much more you could take. Your arms were exhausted from holding up your weight and if you were correct, this torture was about to take a turn for the worst. You weren’t planning to submit physically or mentally, which meant this monster of a human was going to force you to submit sexually and then kill you. It’s how all of his other victims had died and you weren’t looking forward to dying the same way.

After one particularly bad blow to your rib cage, he threw the crowbar down in frustration.

“Submit!” he screamed in your face.

Your face hardened and you calmly said, “No. I will not submit to you. I’ll die before I submit to any man.”

His face red and veins bulging out of his forehead and neck, he yanked your chains so you were on the floor.

“Fine. I’ll make you submit, sweetheart. And you’ll like it too.”

Just as he grabbed your hair by the base of the skull, a loud bang came from above you. Your face brightened as you realized your team was coming. This was going to be over soon.

“You lose. You will never be able to hurt anyone again.”

If it was even possible, his face turned even redder. He let go of your hair and let chains fall completely loose so that you were nothing more than a heap on the floor. Your arms were so exhausted, you couldn’t even hold the weight of your traumatized body.

“This isn’t over,” he growled before taking off out a backdoor that you hadn’t noticed before.

It didn’t matter though, because within seconds after, the basement door had been kicked in and you heard people running down the stairs. You felt warm hands on you and you looked up to see a concerned Spencer trying to get the chains off of you.

“He went outside, he went that way,” you managed to get out.

You’d kept your head level that entire time, but now that you knew things were safe, it was like you could feel all of the emotions of panic, fear, and hopelessness bubble out of you.

You gasped out a sob and fell into Spencer as he finally freed your arms from their chains.

“I know. Morgan’s going after him. You’re safe now.”

Spencer carefully held you up as Hotch’s stern voice called for a medic. You felt a large hand caress your head and despite your fears and panic, you felt the safest you’d felt all day.

——

It didn’t take long for the medics to come down to whisk you away to the nearest hospital. Spencer stayed with you the entire time, but the two of you didn’t say much. He kept his hand wrapped around yours and would occasionally give you a grounding squeeze but that was it.

You didn’t mind though because it gave you time to ponder over this new side of Spencer. You knew that Spencer cared for the team like they were his family, but the protectiveness and worry he’d shown over you was different. It made you reevaluate whether a relationship could happen between the two of you. It made you question everything you felt about the doctor sitting next to you.

When you arrived at the hospitals, paramedics quickly wheeled you in, breaking the contact you had with Spencer. You turned your head to look back at him and again was met with a look of concern that no one had ever shown you before.

It wasn’t until you’d been settled into a room that you saw Spencer and your team again. The doctors had given you a nice dose of pain medication and explained that you had a few broken ribs and lots of bruising, but nothing that required surgery.

“We’ll be leaving tonight, but the jet will be coming back to take you and Reid home in a few days. I’m really glad you’re okay, Y/N.” Hotch’s voice held the same monotone undulation, but you could tell his words of comfort were genuine by looking at his eyes.

After a few more pleasantries among the team, a nurse came by to inform them that you needed to rest. A round of hugs, kisses, and goodbyes later and it was just you and Spencer.

There had never been such a thing as awkward silence between the two of you for as long as you’d known Spencer. But there certainly was now. Finally, you broke the silence by taking a long deep breath.

“You don’t have to stay with me tonight, you know? Or the next couple of days either. I know you’d rather sleep in your own apartment.”

Spencer smiled slightly before shrugging.

“It’s alright. I want to be here with you. You shouldn’t be going through this alone.”

Another awkward silence fell between you and it hung for a few more minutes before you both started talking at the same time.

“Thank you by the way-“ “Will you go out with me sometime?”

The question seemed to shock both of you and you blinked twice.

Again, your voices interrupted each other.

“Sorry—“ “Wait, what—“

Before you knew it, you were both giggling at the awkwardness. It was like you were two high school kids in a rom-com.

The giggles were cut short though when the movement caused pain to sharply spread across your chest.

“Ow,” you groaned as you wrapped your arm around your middle.

“Y/N,” Spencer started, moving his chair so he sat right next to you. With slight hesitation, he reached across and took your free hand.

“When I realized you had been kidnapped, I realized something else. And that’s that I have strong feelings for you. I have for a while. I don’t know if it’s love or affection, or maybe it’s both. But I do know that when I saw you in that man’s basement, I couldn’t wait much longer to tell you how I feel. So if you’ll allow me, I’d like to take you out on a date.”

The declaration surprised you and you took a moment to think about it. You’d be lying if you didn’t have feelings for Spencer as well. But you’d done everything you could to suppress them. This job was obviously dangerous and you and Spencer both knew how it could be to lose someone you love because of it. And there were also the worries of if you were to break up at any point. You’d still have to work together and you didn’t want to lose the work dynamic you two had over a breakup or a lovey-dovey relationship.

But you didn’t want to say no. Today had made you realize that life could be ended in a moment's notice. You didn’t want to waste it on what-ifs and could be’s.

So you didn’t hesitate for too much longer before saying, “Spencer, I would love to go on a date with you.”

“I always did something I was a little not ready to do. I think that’s how you grow. When there’s that moment of ‘Wow, I’m not really sure I can do this,’ and you push through those moments, that’s when you have a breakthrough.” – Marissa Mayer

————

Thank you so much for taking the time to enjoy my story. As promised, here is your tag @dr-reid-ismyspiritanimal I hope you all enjoyed my story. If you have any suggestions for stories or requests, please fill my messages! Love you all!

[prose-for-hire]

Silent night

12 Days of Christmas: Day Four

Pairing: Darla x vamp!reader

Request: can you please do Darla x reader “Remind me why I can’t kill the carolers?”

Requested by: Anon

Warning: Both reader and Darla don’t mind killing.

A/N: The gif !! She’s so pretty 🥰🥺 

You and Darla had been travelling ever since she sired you. She wanted to show you everything your new world had to offer. She saw you and was instantly enamoured. She loved you, you knew this as easily as you knew magic was real. As you knew gravity was. She didn’t tell you often, but she definitely showed you. She fought fiercely beside you. Both of you knowing you had each other’s backs when it came down to it.

However, you had run into some trouble. She didn’t do ‘hiding’. But, because of the recklessness you had displayed through most of Europe and some of Asia, you were now laying low in LA. She determined that laying low and hiding were very different. There was an air of sophistication to laying low that you didn’t get with just plain hiding out. Which made sense to you.

This time of year didn’t make much of a difference to either of you. You rarely decorated and the potential change in weather didn’t affect you much. However, you did have one tradition. A large feast where you would invite as many humans as you had befriended in the area you were living in. This happened every Christmas and there was something oddly comforting about the tradition of it. She adored how easily you picked up survival. Ways to handle being undead.

You often ended your nights tangled together, spending every waking moment together. You were addicted to each other. You couldn’t get enough. 

Your home was surprisingly plush. You had all you could want. Beautiful views of the city. Height so you could see your prey easier. It was because neither of you had become accustomed to gross underground lairs. You liked the finer things. The creature comforts.

Which is how you ended up in this situation. There had been a knock at the door that you had ignored. You would usually take advantage of this, humans who knocked on your door were basically walking takeaway meals that you never had to pay for. But you had just finished a meal and were wrapped around each other in bed. The only gift you would give this year was your love for each other. You didn’t celebrate Christmas.

It had been a few minutes and you decided they must have gone. That was until

“Remind me why I can’t kill the carolers?” She snapped, ready to storm over to the door and give them something to use their voice boxes for. Maybe she could get the soprano to hit the high note she kept missing.

“Because, baby, it’s not lying low if we start killing people on our doorstep” you whispered with a smile.

“It’s dark. Humans have horrible sight in the dark” She offered, clearly planning her move. She smiled at the thought. You rolled your eyes and decided the best action would be to pay them off and hope they left before Darla changed her mind. You were organising a feast after all, and these particular guests were not

“I’m going to ask them if they know Silent night” You suggested, “Heavy on the silence” You muttered as you walked towards the door. You swung the door open and they smiled at you, their rosy cheeks sickened you. Their hearts beat in time to the music and in some way it added a morbidly beautiful element to it that now you were a vampire you didn’t particularly care for.

They sung a carol you didn’t really know. Or want to know, as it happened. So you tried to hurry them along as you heard Darla’s exasperation starting to get louder. When she started sighing, it was a warning for everyone in the immediate vicinity to run. So you decided, just because it was Christmas eve and you were the one in control, to exercise some mercy, “Great. You’re all great. Now, please leave. Immediately” you hissed with a very rare warning look. Rare, because usually you and Darla would inflict pain first try and talk later.

However, it made them sing louder and your eyes widened in horror. Had they just ignored you? Just sung over your warning? Your hands balled to fists. You were annoyed. Disrespect on your own doorstep. It wasn’t right. You stepped towards them, your eyes flashing amber which made everyone’s throats suddenly close up. They started to back away down the hall but you stepped out to.

Darla was quickly behind you rubbing her hands up your back approvingly but stopped when she saw you weren’t planning on killing. You had decided they would taste too sweet for your liking. They were singing for a charity it appeared. It sickened you just to think of it. Darla sighed, fast becoming bored as she stared them down. You scanned the crowd and picked off the weakest looking one who was holding a basket filled with items.

“Give me that” you almost screamed at him, snatching something up and tugging Darla inside.

“You did all that for a bramble?” she inquired, although her tone wasn’t so much interested more frustrated.

“Wh- it’s not a bramble. How do you not recognise mistletoe?”

“Does it do anything… interesting?” She sighed, already bored.

“Well, no, but-”

“Will it help us kill Angelus and take over the world?”

“I don’t think so, but-”

“Is it poisonous?”

“Actually probably” you admitted, before finally explaining, “It’s a tradition. You hold it above your head and the person beside you has to kiss you” You explained and saw a bit of recognition behind her eyes. She could remember it somewhat from earlier in her life.

Even so, she shrugged, bored and walked away. Complaining that you took a plant rather than the vast array of lives that had been on offer. A perfect smorgasbord of people and you had pulled her away wanting.

“It’s Christmas eve, baby, you’ll ruin your appetite for tomorrow night” You reminded her, setting the mistletoe down beside her as you massaged her shoulders soothingly. She thought about this, her head on the side before nodding slowly. She enjoyed having you around. You thought things through but still matched her blood lust. You were perfect for her.

“Then… we should find something to distract us while we wait” She said, turning to face you. She had picked up the mistletoe, appealing to your nature with a devilish smile. You eagerly kissed her and she smirked further into the kiss. She dominated your mouth, pulling you in. As if she had cast a spell on you, you were hers. Putty in her hands. You were so distracted you didn’t realise as she threw the plant away. She directed you backwards, leading you to the plush bed you shared. It was the best 24 hours of your un-life.

That Christmas had been the best you could remember and you spent the next decades trying to recreate it.

[futurewriter2000]

You’re a mean one - pt. 1

A/N: Well this took an unexpected turn lmao. But I kinda like it, even though I don’t know how to continue it. Should I?

PAIRING: Sirius Black x reader

XX

It all happened so sudden. You just realized, like a flick of a switch it all became clearer. 

You were just too good. 

It sounded a bit ego-centric but you felt it. You’ve tried so hard for so long to please other people, to make them happy by being the best version of yourself but in the end, you were just naive. You were good and naive and that cost you. 

It cost you so much. It cost you your feelings- your feelings that were so used to being hurt and disappointed over and over again like they were a railroad. 

So this was it. This were you. This is you not trying anymore. 

The holidays were over and you came back to your room, placing your trunk on the bed and opening it. 

The other girls didn’t even notice you and that hurt you. But you unpacked and pretended that nothing can ever touch you anymore. 

Rule #1: Focus on yourself, not others.

 With that you smiled, put your walkman on and started cleaning your room. You organised your desk, put your books where you wanted them to be, pulled out your new calander 1978. No magic. Just plain traditional cleaning. 

You smiled as you finished, feeling accomplished already. 

This was your last year. Your last, final year of Hogwarts. You are going to make it count. 

You turned around with a smile, the music blasting in your ears when you saw four people looking up at you. You pulled down your headphones and turned off your walkman. 

“Well, finally.” said Marlene, rolling her eyes and expecting some sort of an answer from you but you just kept looking at the four of them sprawled on one bed. “Not a hi. Not a how are you.” she kept saying but you only simpered.

“Hi.” you said and looking at all four of them. 

James and Lily didn’t even bother to say it back, they were too busy giggling and whispering to each other. They both made you uncomfortable if you were honest with yourself. You didn’t mind them being together but they were just the annoying type of couple. The always touchy touchy, giggly giggly type of one. Sirius didn’t bother to say hi as well, only kept looking at Marlene, asking her something when she leaned back to him and started to ignore you completely. 

So with a shrug you turned on your walkman and put your headphones on. It  was with a swift of your arm that you reached out for your coat and made your way to the door when you noticed Sirius’ eyes curiously on yours. He said something to which you couldn’t hear, so just before you left through the door, you pulled down your headphones and asked. “What?”

“Are you listening to Fleetwood Mac?” he asked, watching you with surprise.

“Yes.” you smirked and just left through the door. 

---

Again. Headphones were on and you were in the Great Hall, having tea for breakfast and looking at your Arithmancy homework. 

The others were on the other side of the table and there was one specific pair of grey eyes on you. They observed as your one foot was on the bench, your right hand hugging it and flicking the pencil between your fingers. 

He closely observed your fingers. Three slow taps and two quick ones, then he observed your lips that slightly moved. He mirrored them, singing along to the same song you did. 

“What are you doing?” Marlene asked him as she saw him staring at you. “Is Sirius crushing on (y/n)?” she teased and he scoffed. 

“Yeah, sure Marls. Like I don’t have more important things to do then to crush on your pathetic roomate.” 

“She’s not pathetic.” Alice said, smiling at you. “She’s really nice and since New Years she’s exceeding in all her classes, which I cannot say for your sorry arse.”

Sirius rolled his eyes and leaned back, taking a last glance at you and mumbling to himself. “The Steve Miller Band.” 

“What?” Marlene asked and Sirius shot his head up. 

“Nothing.” he smiled, then looked back at you. “Didn’t she used to always be here- like sitting with us, talk a lot.” 

“Yeah.” Marlene smiled. “She’s actually pretty funny once you get to know her. Quite a joker.” she looked at you as well. “I don’t know what’s gotten into her that she started avoiding us.” 

But the answer to that was easy. You just didn’t want to be with people who constantly ignored you, talked over you, made fun of you... You didn’t want to be around those people who kept making fun of who you were. 

That was why the next time you had class with them you sat next to Remus. He, unlike the others, was always nice to you as well. The two of you started talking  and laughing. It was until the the same four came into the room and started staring at the two of you. 

“What’s funny?” Sirius immediately asked. 

You and Remus both looked at eachother and stopped laughing. “Nothing.” you said. 

“That’s not nothing, sweetheart.” he leaned and kept looking at you. 

“Yeah. But I’m just Marlene’s pathetic roomate, so why would you care in the first place, sweetheart?” you kept your face expression flat and see him grow a bit red under his eyes. 

Turning away from him, you looked back at Remus and continued your conversation.

--- 

The next he saw you, he was in the library with Remus. He was sitting on the other edge of the table, staring at you from a far and trying to figure out but he couldn’t. He tried to figure out the tap of your fingers or the move of your lips but the words were just so disformed. 

“What is she listening to?” he narrowed his eyes meanwhile Remus slowly looked up from his book, looking at Sirius and then at who he was looking- you. 

“Thinking of a way to start a conversation to appologise?” he asked and looked back on the book.

“More like the first one than the second one.” he kept trying to figure out. 

“Maybe she’s listening to Parni Valjak.” Remus said, barely pronouncing it. 

“Parni what?” he looked with furrowed eyebrows. 

“She said she went to Bosnia and Herzegovina during the holidays, where her step-dad comes from and that there was their concert to which she went to. She said she loved it.” Remus said than looked up at Sirius then at you. 

Now they were both looking at you as you rocked your head forward and back, moving your lips more fiercly. Sirius felt himself smile.

“She’s actually cute.” he heard himself say outloud than quickly shot his head to Remus who was already grinning. “If you tell anybody, you won’t live another day.” 

“Tell what?” Remus grinned, forcing his head deeper in the book. 

---

It was not a great day. Not in the slightest that was why you were in no mood to talk to anybody. Not that you much did these days but these kind of days cost you the most. 

“(y/l/n)!” a shout came from a far but you just turned around the corner and didn’t want to wait. 

You quickly reached into your bag and pulled out your walkman, putting your headphones on but before you could turn on the Walkman, you crashed into someone. 

Your headphones fell from your head around your neck, an arm wrapped around your waist, holding you on your feet and all of a sudden he was there and you were there with him, close.

“Nice try.” he smirked. 

Moving away, you fixed the strap of your bag and just moved past him. 

“Oi!” he shouted after you. “You can’t just walk away!” 

“Fucking watch me.” you mumbled to yourself and turned around the corner, again, crashing into someone. That same one. “Can you fucking stop that!?” 

“If you tell me why you’re ignoring me?” he kept grinning. 

“Cuz I don’t want to fucking talk to you!” you snapped and tried to walk away but he grabbed you by the arm and pulled you back. You stopped and ripped your arm from his grip. “Fucking leave me alone you creep!” 

“What the hell is wrong with you?! I’m just trying to be nice!” 

“No!” you shouted back. “You had your chances of being nice to me but you blew every single one of them but since I am treating you with the same disrespect you treated me, everything is wrong. Well, this is you!” You opened your arms and slammed them against your body, turning away and storming up to your room. 

---

Since then he avoided you as well. He didn’t want to hear about you nor see you until he got himself into trouble and was waiting to walk in McGonagall’s office.

“But professor that’s unfair!” he heard a shout from the other side of the door, a far familliar shout. 

‘Who knew she could get into detention?’ - he thought, smirking. ‘Hope she gets Filch for detention.’ 

“I have told you multiple times before Miss (y/l/n). You cannot-”

“I have to!”

“Sit down, Miss (Y/l/n)!” 

“How can you not understand! You’re supposed to understand! They need me!” 

Sirius smirk turned into a curious frown and he listened carefully.

“Professor, please. I would only miss a few classes and I could ask my friends for notes. It wouldn’t change anything.”

“Your attendance is needed and you wouldn’t be focused on your work. You’d-” 

“It’s just until they-”

“I SAID NO!” Sirius felt himself jump at the sharp tone of professor McGonagall. “You’re only duty is school and that is what Dumbledore and I agree on!” 

“Not if I drop out.” you opened the door and stormed out, McGonagall shouting after you.

“Miss (y/l/n)!” she repeated over and over, sighing when you were out sight. 

Sirius was standing up and looking between you and McGonagall. “I’ll promise I’ll come back.” he told McGonagall and running after you. 

He stormed into your room and quickly throwing the trunk under your hands. “The hell you are dropping out!” he shouted and sat on the trunk. 

“This is none of your busniness, Black!” you said and started getting your clothes from your warderobe and onto the bed. “Now give me back my trunk!”

“You’re not thinking straight! You know you’re not!”

“I’m thinking perfectly clear! NOW GET OFF MY BLOODY TRUNK!” 

“No.” he crossed his arms over his body. 

You stood quiet for a while. “I’ll wrestle you.”

“I’d like to see you t-” 

You jumped on him, knocking him off your trunk and quickly trying to get off him but he pulled you back and you fell on him once again. 

“You’re a mean one.” he smiled as his hands kept trying ot take a hold of yours but they kept trying to push away. “Mr. Grinch.” he sang and to you, in that moment, was funny so as much as you tried to get out, you started laughing. 

When your arms lost strength, he took a hold of you firmly and kept you locked in his arms. “Finally, she laughs again.” he smiled.

“You’re such a prick.” you laughed, trying to get out but he was still holding you, tightly, strongly and smelling so goddamn good. As much as you enjoyed being in his arms, you tried to force yourself into thinking otherwise. “Now let me go.”

“Nope.” 

“Black.” you warned.

“What are you gonna do? Wrestle me? We both know how that ended.” he chuckled and you sighed.

“Please...Sirius.” 

He sighed as well. “You can’t just drop out, (y/n). Not when you are months away from graduation.”

“You don’t-”

“Understand? Times I heard this line-” he took a deep breath in. “Just a few more months. Than you can do whatever you want but we both know that would be the biggest mistake.”

“But my family needs me.”

“And how does dropping out of school help them?” he asked and you grew quiet. “Exactly.” he said and there was silence again.

He held you in his arms as tight as he did before. He stared at the ceiling meanwhile you were pressed against his chest and for that moment, everything was peaceful. You just wanted to melt into him but then again, you were just pathetic to him and that changed everything.

“Can you let me go now?” 

“Nope.” 

“Why not?”

“Cuz you’re still mad at me.” 

“I’m not.” you replied. He looked down into your eyes as you looked up at his and he smiled. 

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not.”

“It’s because of the whole pathetic roomate thing, right?” 

“Just let me go.” you tried to wiggle yourself out but he was just too strong.

“I never meant that.” 

“Sure.”

“I’m serious.”

“Yes, you are.”

“Can you not use the name thing on me? It becomes annoying really fast.”

“You become annoying really fast.”

“You’re the most stubborn person I have met.”

“Just let me go.”

“Make me.” he closed his eyes and smirked.

And then you got a sudden idea to which you were never much daunting to do. But you wanted to do it, like a crave or desire. 

Your hands went to his hips and slowly made their way under his shirt. His eyes opened themselves wide and before he could find the ability to speak, you spoke first. “Like this.” you looked up at him longingly, your cold fingertips touching his bare skin on his hips, feeling goosebumps underneath. He was looking down on you confused but not quite against it, so as you felt his arms weakening you moved closer where your nose touched his, your cold hands on his bare chest and gently scratching him. You leaned down so your lips were almost touching his, you could feel his heartbeat under your palms and as much as you wanted to, to every single bone that wanted for you to taste him, you pushed yourself away and stood up, grinning at him. 

He was still in a daze when he saw you walking to your night stand. It took him a while to gather his thoughts but in the end, he didn’t want any other thoughts than the one that was in his mind since your hands touched his skin. 

So as you took your wand from the nightstand, he was standing close behind you. He took a hold of your hand and turned you around in a flash, pushing you on his chest and kissing you passionately. His tongue slipped into your mouth and his teeth clashed hard against yours. You tasted perfect to him so when he pulled away, biting your lower lip in the proces, he slid his hand on your lower back and pushed you closer. “Feel this, sweetheart.” he glanced down and so did you. He was hard and that has made you grow more hot than you have ever felt. “This is what I’m going to do to you. I’m gonna make you ache for me.” he kissed you again, fiery, pushing you on the bed and leading those kisses further away from your lips...

[cake-writes]

Six (1/6)

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Chapter Warnings: Angst, Violence, Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (Bucky), Eating Disorder (Reader), Slow Burn, 18+

Summary: Bucky knew that there were more important things for him to worry about. Of course he did. He still had to work through the horrors of his past, never mind his present, which was the exact reason why he honed right in on your petty bullshit. You distracted him from the things he didn’t want to think about. You also drove him up a fucking wall.

Written for @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​‘s Multi-Fandom Followers Challenge - ‘enemies to lovers’ trope.

James Buchanan Barnes couldn’t stand you. Or your generation.

‘Millennials’ they were called, ranging anywhere from 25 to 40, give or take a couple years. Boy, were they wasteful, entitled, and disrespectful – spoiled rotten by the children of his generation. Where all of their parenting had gone wrong, he wasn’t sure, but it explained a hell of a lot about the world’s current state of affairs.

He knew that Steve didn’t like any of it either, but Steve wasn’t vocal about it; not that Bucky was vocal, of course, because he wasn’t.

Except for when you were involved.

The shitty attitude, he could handle. You griped constantly, so much that it grated on his last nerve after every mission. ‘Broke a nail’ this and ‘bled all over my new shirt’ that. No matter how good you were in the field, he loathed having to deal with you longer than necessary. You whined like a spoiled brat and it was exhausting.

He could also deal with the disrespect. Because your face was buried in your phone 24/7, you’d stumbled into him more than once in the hallway without offering so much as an apology – never mind the time that you very nearly got him shot because you forgot to put the stupid device on silent while the two of you were doing covert ops, or all the other times you interrupted him while he was talking to send off a text. Sometimes he thought you did it on purpose just to piss him off, but he let it slide.

What Bucky couldn’t stand was the wastefulness. Growing up during the Great Depression had taught him not let a single thing go to waste. In fact, he’d say it was downright shameful to do so. His outdated mentality on the subject was just as hard to grow out of as it was for him not to comment on it, and needless to say, he commented. A lot.

Shortly after Bucky moved into the compound, he went to the kitchen for some orange juice one morning and found you throwing away some wilted but perfectly edible produce. An argument ensued. He used up the remnants for breakfast, while you stormed out of the room.

That particular incident was what set the tone for your tumultuous relationship, if you could even call it that. You’d only met a week or two prior, and neither of you left a good impression on the other. He was still keyed up from his return to civilization. You were a victim of circumstance. In retrospect, he knew he shouldn’t have picked the fight, but he didn’t regret it in the least because your bad habits just continued on from there.

One afternoon, he found you stuffing your face with candy instead of eating the tub of yogurt you’d bought a month ago. Bucky knew it was about to go off because it sat there every day at eye level, unopened, with your name written on it in curly black marker, taunting him whenever he opened the fridge. As the expiration date neared, he told you more than once that he’d eat it if you weren’t going to. He’d quickly noticed what a picky eater you were – even though no one from his generation was picky like that – and in some way, he might have been trying to be nice.

More than that, though, it was his attempt at controlling the situation and with it, your wasteful behaviour. You saw right through it and another argument ensued, during which you told him to just eat the fucking thing and stop riding your ass about it. He ate the entire tub by the next morning. You never bought yogurt again.

After dinner one night, he caught you scraping most of your meal off your plate into the trash. He’d seen you pushing it around from the corner of his eye, picking at it like you didn’t have an appetite and maybe you didn’t. He assumed you’d pack it away for later like a normal person, but instead you threw it out. It resulted in yet another argument, and this one ended with hot, angry tears spilling down your cheeks right before you told him to go fuck himself for constantly hassling you about your eating habits.

That was about two weeks ago, and the two of you hadn’t talked since. It was the longest you’d gone without talking to each other over the six months or so since you met, during which you’d argued more times than he could count. Lately, though, you weren’t around much and neither was he. Too many missions. A blessing in disguise.

Bucky knew there were more important things for him to worry about. Of course he did. He still got nightmares, despite the weekly therapy he’d begrudgingly started to attend at Steve’s suggestion and Sam’s prodding. He still had to unpack and work through the horrors of his past, never mind his present.

Yes, there were more important things for him to worry about, which was the exact reason why he honed right in on the petty bullshit. It distracted him from the things he didn’t want to think about.

In some ways, you became his distraction.

When he first met you, he thought you were attractive – and to him, your body still was but Christ, did your personality drive him up a wall. There was never a shred of sexual tension between you and him because all that existed was just plain tension. The air was thick with it whenever you were in the same room, and your teammates were always prepared to break up whatever argument arose from the two of you being together for more than a minute.

While you picked a fight every now and then, it was usually him and, truth be told, Bucky didn’t really blame you for not liking him. He didn’t like himself much, either. He’d done more than enough terrible things for a lifetime or two. That was one reason why he was in therapy.

By comparison, this was minor. It was stupid. It was petty, but whenever you were around, every word out of his mouth was a criticism. He blamed it on the fact that out of everyone he worked with, you were by far the most obnoxious and you made no secret of your disdain for him. It was annoying. You were annoying.

That said, the two of you somehow worked well together. On the battlefield, you listened to his orders without question. You respected him as a soldier, an ally. You did the job, and you did it well – usually. In the thick of it all, he actually liked to be with you and if he was honest, he’d admit that liked the fire in your eyes when you covered him or returned fire. Unfortunately, he just couldn’t afford to be so honest. Not anymore.

The problem was that as soon as the fight was over, you were at each other’s throats all over again. All the excess adrenaline coursing through his veins and yours after a mission certainly didn’t help matters any, especially on the plane ride home, when tensions were high and him just looking at you wrong set you off. Or vice versa.  

It was only by pure luck that you hadn’t been paired up over the last two weeks.

He quickly discovered that that was a bad thing. A very bad thing. When you were finally paired up together for a mission, it went south very quickly due to your lack of communication. He wasn’t paying as much attention as he should have been and neither were you. Instead, you wound up being thrown against a wall where you smacked your head against brick and concrete and, for a moment, he thought the worst.

You didn’t regain consciousness for almost a week.

It wasn’t a pleasant time for Bucky. No, his nightmares were worse than ever because now he had you to add to his always-growing list of mistakes: his failure to protect you, to watch your six like you had his. He blamed himself for not trying to fix things sooner.  He blamed himself for a lot of things. That was another reason why he was in therapy.

He wasn’t there when you woke up, but he arrived just in time to watch you yank the IV from your arm, snarling at the nurse not to touch you again. When the nurse saw him walk in, she looked relieved to see him, almost, like he’d be able to talk some sense into you.

Yeah, right.

You quickly pulled the bag of fluids hanging beside your bed and scanned it with frantic eyes, searching for something – he didn’t know what. All he knew was that it was unsettling to see you like this, so frazzled, so upset. Something was wrong.

“Hey, doll,” he said, taking a couple of cautious steps into the room, but you didn’t even seem to hear him. Normally you would have snapped at him over the casual address, but instead, you were talking to yourself.

“Six days,” you muttered, trying to do the math on your fingers, but it didn’t quite click. Your brain was a hazy mess, and unfortunately, you couldn’t remember much – just that you’d been knocked back into a wall and then – nothing. “Ten thousand?”

It wasn’t until you swore loudly that you realized Bucky was in the room. He was just the person you needed to see right now. Perfect.

“What do you want?” you asked, dropping the bag down onto the bed. Next to it lay the feeding tube the nurse had just very uncomfortably removed.

“You wanna tell me what all this,” he gestured to the bloody IV on the floor, “is about?”

“Not particularly,” you snarked. “I’m being discharged. Out of my way, Barnes.”  

As always, you drove him up a wall, but he was a little more forgiving this time. You’d just woken up from a coma. That was probably why your behaviour was so off. It made sense.

Instead of dignifying your attitude with a response, he just stepped aside and let you storm out into the hallway.

Still, he found himself trailing behind you – giving you your distance, but he also wanted to keep an eye on you for any other erratic behaviour. If you noticed that he was following you, you didn’t say anything. Instead, you signed some discharge papers at the nurse’s station, accepted a small pile of folded clothing – your torn uniform – and made your way to the elevator.

Bucky got in with you almost automatically. In fact, he hardly even realized it until his feet had already taken him there. He didn’t know why.

You eyed him suspiciously as he pressed the button to the ground floor, but he ignored you. The ride downstairs was silent and uncomfortable – tense as always – but your racing thoughts distracted you from it, fingernails tapping anxiously against the handrail in the elevator as it made its descent.

As terrible as you felt, you had to go to the gym. You had to burn off the ten thousand calories that had been pumped into your body over the last week. Needed to.  It wasn’t optional.

“Sorry,” he said then, and you glanced over at him. He didn’t apologize often.

“For what?”

“I wasn’t covering you,” he responded, meeting your eyes for a moment before he looked away. There was a hint of shame there that you didn’t miss. “I should’ve had your six. You got hurt because I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Shit happens,” you told him, tone neutral, but some small part of you appreciated his apology – his honesty, even though it wasn’t his fault. You were the one who should have been paying more attention, but all you were focused on during the mission was burning off the calories you’d had at lunch. The fact that you and Bucky were in the middle of a rough patch at the time was the furthest thing on your mind.

Just like now.

Bucky didn’t say anything at that, and the conversation died out. Thankfully, the elevator finally reached the bottom floor just in time with a quiet ‘ding’.

You didn’t even look in his direction as you exited the elevator, planning to make a beeline for your room to get changed into more suitable clothing. The nightgown you were wearing – courtesy of medical – was comfortable, but not exactly good for exercising.

“You got someplace to be?”

You shot Bucky an irritated look and said like it was obvious, “The gym.”

“You just got out of medical—”

“Let it go, Barnes,” you called over your shoulder.

Thankfully, he did let it go.

You made it to your room in the neighbouring building just fine, but the moment you shut the door behind you, your calm demeanour was replaced with panic. How the hell were you supposed to burn off ten thousand calories? You were going to be at the gym all night.

And you were.

In the end, you were at the gym for hours. The sun was shining high in the sky when you were released from the medical ward, and now it was dark. A quick check of your watch showed that it was a little after eight o’clock.

By this point, you’d done a half hour on every single cardio machine in the gym: treadmills, ellipticals, a random stair climber that never got used, then spin bikes when your back started to hurt from being on your feet for so long.

Now that your legs were thoroughly fatigued, you were putting your arms to work with a punching bag. Boxing still required some leg work, of course, but your wrapped knuckles were catching the brunt of it.

In between the bursts of cardio, you were going to the bathroom and weighing yourself after, not that it made much of a difference – not even half a pound. With all the exercise, you wound up drinking far too much water, so now you were peeing out the difference. As soon as you finished pulling your sweaty leggings back up, you already felt like you had to go again. It was a special brand of hell.

You’d just returned to the heavy bag and landed a couple of unsteady punches when you realized you weren’t alone. Bucky was here, now. Of course he was.

Over the past few hours, some of your teammates had come through. Steve and Sam came in to train together, and were pleasantly surprised to find that you were finally up and at ‘em again. Clint grinned at you and gave you a thumbs-up. Natasha was glad to see that you were already feeling well enough for some cardio.

Except you weren’t feeling well enough at all. You were ready to puke. Truth be told, you’d been feeling like that for a while, but you held it back because you needed to burn off the calories. With a conservative estimate, you’d maybe only burned a third of the ten thousand.

Just a third.

“You feeling alright?”

Bucky’s hand was gentle on your sweaty shoulder and you jumped, very nearly losing your footing. You knew your body was a bit more sluggish, now, but your reaction time was embarrassingly slow.

You shrugged off his hand. “I’m fine.”

“You don’t look fine,” he told you.

“So what?” you snapped at him. “Why do you even care? You didn’t during the mission.”

That was a low blow, and you knew it. He’d already apologized, for one, and for two, it wasn’t his fault to begin with. It was yours.

When Bucky’s jaw tensed, you turned back to the heavy bag in front of you, refusing to meet his eyes again.

You hated always being so nasty to him, but only he could inspire such a rise out of you. You weren’t sure why. The two of you got on like water and oil, constantly arguing about stupid, petty bullshit. The arguments usually happened when you were at your worst: cranky from a lack of food or angry with yourself for an abundance of it. Sometimes, he got a bug up his ass about your eating habits, and that was what really set you off. It was a sensitive topic. You despised talking about it because that just stressed you out even more, so much that every now and then it made you cry.

Of course, he’d never seen any of that until a couple of weeks ago.

The punches you landed were weak and pathetic, let alone not where you’d been aiming at all. That may have had something to do with how spotty your vision was – like a runner’s high times a thousand. You blamed it on your own lack of focus and discipline, but you knew deep down that it was because your body desperately needed to rest. Either that, or it needed some real sustenance, not liquid calories from a feeding tube.

You leaned a hand against the heavy bag to steady yourself from the sudden dizzy spell, but it didn’t help much. Your body pitched forward anyway.

“Hey,” came Bucky’s voice, then – soft and soothing. “Don’t worry. I’ve got you.”

His arms were around you, one hard and unyielding under the sleeve of his sweatshirt, but he was warm – so warm and gentle and you found yourself leaning into him, dazed and half-conscious. Your vision was spottier than ever, almost black. You weren’t sure if it was because your eyes were closed or you were dreaming. Maybe a mixture of both.

Then, a split second later, you were blinking up at your bedroom ceiling.

Bucky was there; he’d pulled your desk chair over to your bedside and was sitting in it, thumbing through one of your books. When you shifted, he looked up from the novel to you.

“What the hell,” you muttered under your breath, slowly pulling yourself up to a seated position. When had you made it back to your bedroom? And for that matter, what was he doing here? With one of your favourite books, no less.

“You fainted,” he explained so simply that it set you off.

“I didn’t faint,” you argued, more for the sake of arguing than anything else. You didn’t faint like a pathetic damsel in distress. That wasn’t something that you did. “I was doing cardio, and then…”

His brows raised expectantly.

You crossed your arms in a huff. “And then I ended up here.”

“Sounds like you fainted to me, but what do I know,” he said dryly – teasing, almost, but you weren’t on good enough terms for that. “I mean, you sure were dead weight for someone who was still conscious.”

“What?” you asked stupidly.

He carried you here? That was bad enough, but what’s worse was that he said you were heavy. He was a super soldier; you definitely shouldn’t have been too heavy, but you had been eating worse than usual lately and you probably put on an extra few pounds whilst in medical—

“Christ, would you calm down? I’m kidding,” he interrupted your anxious thoughts and you realized, then, that they must have shown on your face.

When you met his eyes and saw that gorgeous pale blue so up close, you briefly forgot what you were panicking about to begin with. You’d always loved his eyes, despite how often the two of you were at each other’s throats. They were just about the only thing you liked about him.

Whatever fleeting appreciation you may have had disappeared in an instant when he added, “You know I’m gonna have to take you back to medical if you push yourself too hard again.”

You frowned. “I didn’t push myself too hard, I was working off—”

Then you cut yourself off and chewed your lip. You almost said too much. He wouldn’t get why your head was so fucked up because, honestly, even you didn’t get it. How could you expect someone else to?

“You were working off what?”

You glanced at him and found that he genuinely seemed like he wanted to know. Actual curiosity, and possibly a hint of concern played out on his features as he studied your face.

Well, if he wanted to know so badly, then you’d tell him. Maybe then he’d finally leave you alone. Good riddance.

“The calories,” you mumbled, feeling even stupider after saying it out loud.

His brows furrowed in confusion. “What?”

“The calories,” you repeated a bit more clearly. “Medical force-fed me while I was out.”

“Why does that matter?” he asked far too seriously for your liking. “You’re lucky you’re not brain dead.”

You bristled at the way he brushed off your concerns so casually. “What, like you?”

Bucky exhaled slowly, offering a glimpse of exactly how patient he was trying to be with you. “Look, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. You’re obviously just fine,” there was a little bite to his tone as he got to his feet, then, “so I’m gonna go.”

Well, now you felt bad.

“Shit, Barnes, wait—”

You didn’t realize you’d actually reached out for him until your fingers embedded in the thick fabric of his shirt sleeve. He stared at your hand on his metal forearm for a moment before he turned his eyes up to yours, looking every bit as unsettled as you felt.  

You immediately let him go and started picking at a very interesting piece of lint on your duvet, doing your best to ignore the heat rising in your cheeks. “Sorry. Thanks for, you know, caring.”

He scoffed a little at that, to which you hesitantly looked over at him again only to find that he’d flopped right back down into the chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “Someone has to. You look like hell.”

“Gee, thanks,” you sassed. “I can really feel the love.”

Despite your bristly demeanour, and his, you felt the corners of your lips turn up all the same.

Part Two / Master List

[blarrghe]

@midnightprelude sent me the prompt “Full Moon” for some autumnal vibes like a full-on month ago and this has been floating around in my brain ever since. In my defence, it is still fall and I wrote this during Sukkot so we’re even more on theme. Yes that is why it took me so long and no other reason... Anyway, spent all of yesterday obsessed with this idea and it’s not going away. Incredibly liberal liberties are taken with the nonexistence of Dalish lore and/or holidays. Influenced in part by that one post that said that Thedas’ two moons could orbit in such a way that they’re both full in the sky during Satinalia. ---

“Solas, you coming?” The Inquisitor peered his face into his tent with an expectant smile, rousing his attentions from where they’d settled in the pages of one of Varric’s books. They weren’t much his sort of thing, these tales of simplistic crime-fighting and antagonistic partnership, but sometimes even he needed something easy to read. He tried to find some memory of whatever task he might have already agreed to which could have the Inquisitor tapping at his tent walls at dusk. The days spent cleaning up rifts and wraiths in the aftermath of Orlais’ ill-thought civil war in the Exalted Plains had drained most of his energy. 

“Coming where?” He closed the book and gave the Inquisitor a long, curious look. He seemed bright and wakeful, which shouldn’t have surprised him - he’d been in the field alongside him enough that the Inquisitor’s seemingly boundless energy wasn’t exactly new - but the smile still never failed to confound him. This grey and harsh world shouldn’t have been able to produce such a lively spirit, but not only had it done so, Taren Lavellan was not even the only one. 

“Is he coming, boss?” Solas heard the Iron Bull call out from some distance behind his tent, eager energy in his voice as well. The Qunari was always arranging some kind of rowdy festivity, usually in celebration of some flimsy cause or another. We killed a dragon - hurrah! We took a Keep - hurrah! We closed all the rifts in the southern section of the map - hurrah! It’s raining - hurrah! Solas pursed his lips. 

“Satinalia?” The Inquisitor answered his question like it was something unforgettable that he should have already been excited for, “the full moons?” 

Ah. The holiday was popular in all parts of Thedas, but no doubt the Inquisitor had it in mind to celebrate according to the Dalish custom. He knew of the tradition in an abstract sense; his dreams had shown him pilgrimages of elves up onto high cliffs, dances and prayers offered up in misguided thanks to “creators” who did not deserve them. He sighed, and his displeasure appeared to disappoint the Inquisitor. Solas felt an unwelcome stab of guilt for once again meeting the Inquisitor’s attempts at relating to him like one of his own with refusal. He was a good Dalish elf, despite the Chantry's best efforts, and he had every right to be proud of that, even if he was wrong about all of it. 

“Your traditions are not my own.” He explained apologetically, and he was surprised to see the Inquisitor’s smile return. Then, Taren was laughing - not with cruelty, but with a sort of exasperated disbelief. 

“So?” 

Solas opened his mouth to speak, but found that he had no further protest ready. 

“You don’t have to believe, Solas, holidays are about more than that.” Taren shook his head like a parent correcting a child - how ironic - and left his tent without properly closing the flap, clearly expecting him to follow. Reluctantly, Solas obliged. 

“Where are you climbing to?” He asked as he stepped out into the cool evening. The camp was set up in a valley sheltered between rocky ridges and grassy hills, and fog settled into the crease of it like a blanket. To the east ran a path toward an ancient Elvhen ruin, and if he stayed to dream he would find battles raging bloody through the night. The land still bore the scars which the Chantry had burned into it; buried ruins and desecrated tombs. And it bore scars from even further back than that, in the shapes of the cliffs themselves. 

“Up there.” The Inquisitor pointed due north, toward a distant high hill of misshapen stone. Atop it rested a great and ancient statue; the figure of a lone wolf that seemed to survey the entire valley below. 

Solas chuckled, following the Inquisitor’s gaze up to the effigy of Fen’Harel. “Very well.” He agreed, noticing that along with The Iron Bull, the Inquisitor had apparently recruited Dorian, Varric, and even Sera for the expedition. They stood by, dividing bottles of wine and blankets into packs to carry between them. “Lead the way.”

The Inquisitor did lead, finding footholds with sharp eyes and scampering ahead to scout out the most secure paths as needed. Solas fell to the rear of their line, watching as the Inquisitor’s other elven companion hopped up the rocky cliffs behind him. 

“I’m surprised you agreed to celebrate something Elvhen, Sera.” He remarked, “has our fearless leader inspired you to reconnect with your people, perhaps?” He knew that he hadn’t, and though he was a little curious as to how the Inquisitor had managed to convince the disrespectful rogue to participate, mostly he just knew that the comment would annoy her in a way that might prove amusing. 

“Shut up, it’s not even elfy.” Sera didn’t miss a beat, snapping back with crass annoyance. “Everyone does Satinalia.” 

“But the pilgrimage to a high cliff at moonrise, that is most certainly elfy.” He replied, pressing her on cooly. 

“Hey, we all do it in our own way. No harm in trying something new.” Varric, always trying to keep the peace. Or maybe he was simply reassuring himself, the trek upwards did have him panting already. 

“Right,” Sera cut in, “and my way is: you drink until the moons blur into one.” She thumped the pack on her back with a grin. 

Solas sighed, and continued walking. 

The statue of Fen’Harel seemed so much larger up close. The Inquisitor settled himself down at the great wolf’s feet, leaning his back against one large toe of the Dread Wolf’s left paw, and began removing blankets and other supplies from his own pack. He unstrapped a bundle of thin branches from where they’d been fastened to the underside of his pack and with Dorian’s help began assembling a small fire. Solas laid his own supplies down nearby, and walked a few paces out to the very edge of the cliff, turning his face toward the shining full moons. 

Once a year, both of Thedas’ moons rise in the sky together, two full round circles of light, filling the sky and diminishing the light of any star that dares shine alongside them. Every culture across the world has devised some way to honour them, and always the holiday is associated with tricks and devilry, but also raucous behaviour and celebration. He had seen in dreams the festivals of ancient Tevinter, where the god of chaos was worshipped with the rising moons, and the celebrations in Antiva that set the whole city alight in lanterns while masked revellers danced wild in the streets. Dalish elves take to high cliffs, singing loud and howling songs up toward the heavens, and dancing round their fires. 

Dark had fallen as they climbed, night spreading over the valley on cool winds through the dry grasses. Moonlight shone through the fog brought in by the wide river that snaked through the planes, so that the ground below appeared even further away than it was; as if they’d climbed all the way to the heavens, leaving the valley under clouds. Above, the two bright moons had filled the sky, hanging before the eyes of the great wolf like distant jewels. They looked, every year, like they might in their paths across the sky collide and bring down ruin and destruction upon all things, but they never did. 

Suddenly, a loud howl broke the peace of the quiet night, and Inquisitor Taren Lavellan was standing next to him, one foot up on an outcropping of rock, his face high and his neck arched back, hands cupped around his mouth to amplify the sound. Solas nearly jumped, and the Inquisitor finished his howl by dropping his hands away from his mouth and grinning, turning to watch Solas’ stunned face with laughter creasing at the corners of his eyes. 

“You know, I always sort of liked Fen’Harel.” Solas looked into the Inquisitor’s eyes searchingly and swallowed with dry uncertainty, surely the Inquisitor was not testing him. “Not to emulate, of course, but I mean as a story.” 

“You like the story of your people’s betrayal?” 

The Inquisitor mostly ignored his question, opting to explain his clan’s customs in observance of the holiday as an answer instead. 

“The songs we sing for the moons, do you know them?” 

Solas shook his head. He had seen the dances and the singing in dreams, made out the names of the tyrants that this world’s elves honoured without sense, and turned his face away. He had studied enough of the Dalish lore to understand how they had fallen into such folly, but to watch them cry out in joy and worship for all that he had fought against, year after year, was too much to bear. 

“On Satinalia, we sing for Fen’Harel.” Taren continued, and Solas turned his attention from the lights in the sky back to the Inquisitor’s smiling face in shock, “it’s the only holiday that honours him.” 

“Honours him for what?” He couldn’t help but to be curious. Fen’Harel was an outcast figure in Dalish lore, a trickster and a fiend, depicted as being entirely without honour. 

Taren shrugged, “for all his mistakes, he was still one of the Creators.” He explained, “we sing a lament - literally speaking, it asks him back.” 

“It...what?” 

Taren sighed. “Well it’s symbolic, really. We don’t really pray for Fen’Harel to return, it's for those who leave, whether they are taken or led astray. A hope that they find the People again.” 

“That doesn’t explain what there is to like about Fen’Harel.” Solas replied, shaking his head over the explanation. “Is it not a Keeper’s job to protect the clan from the influence of the Dread Wolf?” 

The Inquisitor shrugged. “Fen'Harel ma ghilana.” He said, pointing the expression at Solas with a touch of sadness, and Solas chuckled despite himself. 

“The Dread Wolf leads me astray?” 

“It’s what we say when someone has been misled,” Taren began to explain, and Solas cut him off, still smirking. 

“I know.” 

“The story of Fen’Harel, it’s not something to protect people from like a warrior, waiting to be attacked by savage wolves in the night. That’s not what Fen’Harel is.” 

“Oh, then what is Fen’Harel?” He asked, unable to help himself. 

Taren avoided the concept of a straight answer once more, instead answering Solas’ question with one of his own.

“Do you know much about how a wolf pack functions?” He didn’t wait for the answer, “the idea that there’s a head wolf, a leader stronger than the others who determines the direction of the rest of the pack - that’s wrong. A wolf pack is like a Dalish clan.” He explained, “a wolf pack is a family. It works together. The old teach the young, the strong protect the weak, and the pack moves according to patterns as old as the land itself.” Solas nodded along, he knew well that wolves were misunderstood creatures. The Inquisitor continued. “Sometimes, a wolf will go off alone, either because of scarcity or fighting within the pack. But a lone wolf is vulnerable; it’s no way to live. They have to find other packs to survive, or perhaps find what it was they were seeking and return…” Solas listened patiently, watching Taren’s eyes drift toward the shining moons in thought as he spoke. The Inquisitor was a lone wolf in his own right, having left his clan well before the events of the conclave in his own quest for knowledge - Solas had been surprised and impressed to learn that history from him. “So the story of Fen’Harel, it isn’t just about lies and deceit. It’s a reminder of what’s important.” He finished. 

“And what’s that?” 

“Honesty, community.” Taren shrugged, “we protect the clan from Fen’Harel by upholding those things. There will always be evil in the world - that’s what it means, for the Dread Wolf to be incapable of leaving his tricks behind. Every culture has a figure to explain the inevitability of darkness. But there’s a reason he’s represented as a wolf, and not some other creature.” Taren went on, “a lone wolf, vulnerable because he forgets the purpose of his pack.” 

“You think that Fen’Harel is vulnerable?” He felt almost completely stripped away, standing awash in the bright moonlight. 

“We think he is lost.” Taren answered, seeming not to read the full extent of the stunned expression on Solas’ face, “just like any of the People who are left to fend in the world alone.” 

“An interesting interpretation.” Solas furrowed his brow and covered his raw nerves with the facts of what he had seen elsewhere in the world, “though I don’t know that it holds true in every clan.” 

Another shrug. “Of course it doesn’t. But the message is there, and every Dalish storyteller finds it. That’s why we tell the stories. Fen’Harel may be a hopeless figure, but he is hopeless because he is the lone wolf, not the other way around.” He turned to Solas, reaching out an arm to grip his shoulder warmly. “Your mistake is thinking we take to every story so literally, Solas.” 

Solas shook his head, ready to argue back against the Inquisitor’s odd reasoning. He had seen Dalish clans scar their faces like slaves to gods they didn’t understand, and been disrespected and shunned for daring to speak against traditions they followed blindly, when he’d tried. If anything, the Inquisitor - fearsome figure that he was - was closer to him than to the true Dalish he claimed to love. “I’ve certainly never met any Dalish elves who could view the tale of Fen’Harel so favourably.” He said cooly, and the comment left a slight frown over the Inquisitor’s face as it registered.

“And how many clans have you visited, exactly?” Taren pointed the argument back to him, but he didn’t answer. He had seen more clans rise and fall as he slept than Taren could have visited in his travels, no matter how extensive they may have been. 

“So you, First of Clan Lavellan, did not spend your life training to defeat Fen’Harel when he comes to rip the world apart?” He asked, trying to sound lighthearted, but even if the jab was clever, he found no joy in the teasing. 

“No.” Taren shook his head. “Though maybe I should have, if Darkspawn Magisters are real.” He chuckled dryly, “some stories about monsters are true, and some are just symbolism. Some are both. If the Creators were really betrayed by Fen’Harel, then he was a powerful god indeed, and we’ve seen all too well what a lone power bent on destruction can do.” He returned his gaze to the moon. “But the stories depict him as a wolf, and wolves don’t succeed alone.” 

“You’ve thought a lot about this.”

It wasn’t the first time that he’d heard the Inquisitor give unexpected and thoughtful consideration to his own traditions. So much was wrong with what the Dalish passed down through the generations as their history, and yet rather than rejecting it, the Inquisitor continuously surprised him with interpretations that seemed to set it right. 

“I was thinking of writing a book.” Taren admitted sheepishly, and Solas realised that he was looking to him now for approval. 

A book. The studious Inquisitor wished to leave his mark by sharing his loving study of Dalish lore with the world. Interpretations of the scraps left to him in a broken world. Wrong interpretations, Solas reminded himself, though it was becoming harder and harder to convince himself that they were. His heart sank with the secret realisation that he would never get to read them. He nodded approvingly, unable to help himself from returning Taren’s look with a small smile. “Of course you were.” 

Taren returned his attention to the moons and howled once more, the grin spreading back over his face as he did. Behind him, the small fire crackled and his companions laughed. Bull and Sera raised their voices to join his cry, sending wild and yelping howls off into the night. In the distance, a howl was returned, and Solas couldn’t tell if the sound came from real wolves, or the small Dalish clan they had met wandering the valley. 

“You act like a lone wolf, Solas. You spend all this time wandering, seeing all of our history in dreams, and you think you know, but how can you? And… what's the point? Who is it for?" The Inquisitor turned to him with something careful in his gaze, and concern tipped his words. 

Solas frowned. How like him, this impossible Dalish accident, to be concerned about his being alone. "Well, I suppose my knowledge has been useful to you, if knowledge must have a purpose." He contended, and the impossible Dalish accident shook his head.

"And before the Inquisition? After?"

Inquisitor Lavellan, who knew better than most what it meant to be lonely. If only he knew that the lone wolf he saw had no pack to return to in this world. If only he knew what the cost of that return would be. 

“I have never been Dalish. There is no clan to which I wish to return.” He said correctingly, and Taren shook his head at him again. 

 “You could have a place, lethallin.” Taren gave his shoulder another warm squeeze, and Solas’ heart grew heavy with the name that meant friend. 

“In your pack of wolves?” He smirked a little, hiding the spreading guilt with his indignation.

“In my family.” Said the Inquisitor, turning his back on him with one last firm and friendly pat to his arm before he returned to the fire.

If only he knew to whom it was he offered his friendship; what ruin Fen’Harel would bring to his world to escape the loneliness of his own mistakes. 

That night, as the Dread Wolf slept, he had uneasy dreams filled with the sounds of distant howling. 

[anastasiaskarsgard]

This is an AU where Roman didn’t get killed

HER

He hated her the first time he met her. It’d been another boring day in class, when the teacher has announced they had a new student. Mildly intrigued, Roman sat up straighter and waited for the apparently shy new girl to enter.

To say he was underwhelmed was an understatement. The teacher directed her to sit next to him and he looked her over as she approached. She was tall and thin, with no hint of a figure like most of the other girls. She wore glasses and looked very plain, yet she seemed completely self assured. She was annoying.

“My face is up here dick,” she said under her breath as she sat down.

Roman’s temper flared at the disrespect. “Nothing on you even worth looking at.” He said haughtily and ignored her the rest of that year.

At 15, he found her crying in the girls bathroom after he’d finished fucking some slut. He was pretty sure she’d heard their activities since she refused to look at him as she just cried on the floor in the corner. Roman glanced over at her as he washed his hands.

“I hope you’re not crying over me.” He sneered.

If looks could kill, he was certain he’d be dead on the spot. Pure venom in her eyes burned into his own, as she swiftly stood and marched up to him, stopping only inches from his face. “You’re not worth the shit on my shoe freak.”

“What a dirty mouth. I know something you can-“

SLAP!

Roman stood there stunned as he watched the now furious girl, that only moments before had been crying on the floor, storm out of the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and there was a clear handprint on his face. He always had faster reflexes than girls, so they never were able to land slaps, but he hadnt even seen that one coming.

He hated her.

At 17, he was leaving a party when he heard a girl scream off in the woods nearby. Curious if he could catch some people fucking, he drunkenly stumbled in the direction of the sound. As he got closer, the voices became clear yet he couldn’t recognize them in his hazy state of mind.

“I thought we were past all this.” A deep male voice growled.

“Well you thought wrong. We are done.” A female voice snapped that raised the hairs on Romans arms.

“Maybe I don’t want to be done.” The male said menacingly.

Roman rolled his eyes and wished he’d just minded his business. He was in no condition to save anyone, but didn’t like where this was going.

“You feeling froggy motherfucker? Leap!”

Roman’s eyes went wide as he recognized that voice: it was her. He shook his head and turned to go, when he heard the unmistakable sound of someone being struck and falling to the ground.

Spinning around he marched towards the irritating girl and whatever idiot was attacking her, and stopped as soon as they came into view. She was standing over his unconscious body, smoking a cigarette.

“Get a good show Godfrey?” She asked as she snapped her penetrating eyes up to his.

She made him uncomfortable. It’d been a long time since he’d cared to really look at her and he decided he was really drunk, because she was beautiful. He scoffed at that thought and turned his back on her as he went to find his car. She didn’t need him, she never did.

At their graduation she walked up to him and hugged him. He froze, unable to process what was happening and looked at her bewildered as she pulled away and smiled.

“You’re the most handsome boy I’ve ever seen... and the most tragic.” She purred.

He stared dumbly at her, still unable to respond to her uncharacteristic behavior.

By the time he got his wits about him, she was gone. He looked for her, and asked around but no one knew where she’d gone. It’s like she disappeared.

He didn’t find her again until he was twenty two, and it was very much on accident. He was full of blood from a recent meal, and was feeling aroused, so he went into a strip club. The place had a lot of very pretty girls and it didn’t take long, before he had two of them sucking his dick in the VIP. Slamming his cock down one of the girls throat, not particularly worried about her breathing, he was almost about to empty his seed, when he smelled her.

Looking up, he spotted her watching him, holding a tray, obviously a waitress. Suddenly horrified with his company, he pushed them away and tucked himself back in his pants. When he looked back up she was gone. Cursing to himself, he jumped up, searching for her. When he couldn’t find her, and was told no one matching her description worked there, he broke a large mirror, before storming out.

He found her again at twenty five. She was back in Hemlock Grove at his hospital visiting what appeared to be her mother. For the first time in his life, he was afraid to talk to a girl. He watched her on the security cameras, night after night as she stayed by her mother’s side.

Finally growing curious to investigate what was the matter, he was told the mother would die any day now of cancer. Without much thought he ordered all her bills covered by the hospital. The following day, he tuned into his favorite “show” and found the room empty.

Feeling disappointed, he exited the security office and made his way to his car when a hand reached out and grabbed him, spinning him around.

It was her.

“What the fuck is this?” She spit at him.

Roman looked at the papers she was holding, stamped with PAID IN FULL. “Obviously it’s the bill.”

She practically had steam come out of her ears. Stomping her foot she shrieked,”I’m not for sale! This will get you no extra favor with me. I will not fuck you!”

Roman chuckled, feeling truly amused by her announcement. “I don’t expect anything from you.” He said before turning and walking away.

“Wait!”

He stopped and waited. He didn’t turn as he heard her swift steps come up beside him. “Can I buy you dinner to thank you?”

Roman smirked, “I’m not going to fuck you just because you buy me dinner.”

Her face flushed and she looked as though she was going to hit him, when she laughed and shook her head. “Deal.”

At twenty seven he finally got the nerve to ask his best friend, out on a date. She scoffed at him, but smiled and agreed.

It was the best date he’d ever been on.

At twenty eight he proposed they elope in Vegas and she thought it was an excellent idea. It was the most fun he’d ever had. But that was every time he was with her.

He loved her.

At thirty she gave birth to their twins. Two perfect children, each resembling their parents combined features. Roman had never seen anything as beautiful.

He remembered the first time he realized she was beautiful, and felt his world drop out beneath him. Although his wife was still gorgeous, she was aging. He however, was not.

At thirty three, she suffered a miscarriage and it nearly killed her. Roman was forced to accept that one day she was going to die. But he pushed that thought down and tried to not think on it.

On her fortieth birthday, he cried in the bathroom at her party. Everyone had marveled at how well she had aged, and wanted to know her secret. Roman stood stoically by her side, as no one seemed to notice he hadn’t aged since he was 18. Looking at his beautiful wife and all her friends, he was struck with the reality that they’d all die.

It wasn’t fair. He hated her for making him love her. For making him need her, when she knew she was going to leave him. He had to excuse himself to the restroom where he currently was hiding, unable to get ahold of himself.

KNOCK KNOCK

“Go away!” He yelled.

“Roman? It’s me. Can you let me in please?” His wife asked.

Hesitantly, he unlocked the door as she slipped in and locked it.

“I hope you’re not crying over me.” He missed the joke.

He glared at her, huffing and folding his arms.

She laughed and shook her head, “still a brat.”

She was impossible! Suddenly feeling claustrophobic, he tried to push past her to exit, but she grabbed him and pulled him into a tight embrace.

“Don’t you run from me Godfrey.”

“Hn,” he grunted, trying to remain rigid and cold.

“I know why you’re mad.”

“I seriously doubt it,” he snapped, pushing her away from him.

She didn’t release him, just held him tighter. “It’s because I’m going to die and you’ll be all alone....”

He didn’t know what to say, so he just embraced her right back. Nuzzling his face in her hair, he felt a wave of sadness crash down on him again, and felt his tears moistening her hair.

“I love you Roman.” She whispered.

“I know, that’s the problem. I love you too.”

[screamingatanemptyroom]

I Can’t Eat Love pt 12

Hey everyone! The story continues! Thanks to everyone who sends me messages and comments! Sorry if I’m spamming your feeds, but I try to answer all the old questions before posting the next part, so I don’t get too far behind. 

I’m really having fun, and I hope you guys are too!

Master post linked here

Quick content warning for this next part. Lenora’s mother is emotionally and physically abusive. The physical part is not described or detailed. 

______________________________

I thought I had mentally prepared for my mother’s  arrival. It had been almost two years since I had last seen her face in my past life. I couldn’t help but wonder if she would be any different in this one. So many things had already changed here and there, perhaps she had as well. 

Sitting at my desk, pretending to work but unable to even read one page, I stopped to laugh at myself. At these types of pathetic hopes. I knew better than anyone that she wouldn’t change.

I heard the sounds of a carriage outside, dropping the unread book in my hand with a loud thud. My heart rate increased, pounding in my chest as I stood up, moving towards the entrance.

I could already hear her screaming.

 “HOW DARE YOU DROP MY BAG YOU STUPID COW!”  Mother stood there, her face red with rage, screaming at one the young women who worked as a maid at our home. She was a newer higher, I had only seen her a few times around the main hall, but I felt a pang of sympathy as she shied away from my mother’s anger, mumbling apologies as she clutched the bag in question.

“I’LL TEACH YOU TO DISRESPECT ME!” the terrified words and tears of the maid fell on deaf ears, as my mother raised her hand, preparing to strike the girl. Even in her anger, a slight grin tugged on the corner of her mouth. She thrived off of moments like this, making others afraid.  

______________________________

“What happened?!” As she got in the carriage after the disastrous party, mother glared at my father and me, confused.

 “Prince Ronan… he… he broke of the engagement.” I could barely force the words out through my tears. My father sat at my side, trying to hand me a handkerchief to dry my eyes, looking overwhelmed.

“…” The carriage was deathly silent.  My mother looked at me with a tired, disdainful gaze.

“So you’ve finally done it?” Her gaze was sharp, feeling as though it was flaying me open. “I’ve told you over and over to ensure he fell in love with you, and in the end you couldn’t even keep him interested enough to tie the knot?!”

“Dear, maybe this isn’t the time or place…?” My father interrupted with a sympathetic glance towards me, but was ignored.

 “Did he leave you for another woman?” Her question was cold, sucking all the warmth out of the carriage. I shivered, trying to hold back further tears and nodded silently.

“THEN WHY DID I WASTE ALL MY TIME ON SUCH A WORTHLESS GIRL?!!” Her hand raised up in the air. I closed my eyes as it came down towards me, wishing I was someone else.

______________________________

 The lawn was silent. Mother’s hand was stopped, paused mid-swing as I reached out and grabbed it. The contact stung my palm, but I smiled gently, refusing to show any pain in front of her.  Behind me, the maid still crouched, staring up at us both with wide eyes, only releasing the bag she still held as a grim-faced Hallers reached out and took it from her.

“Welcome back, Mother. Why don’t we have some tea inside?” 

My first words to my mother since I woke up in my second life. It felt oddly surreal. Our eyes met, and despite my complex feelings she didn’t appear to realize anything was amiss. Shrugging, she dropped her hand and stepped away from the maid, a bored expression back in place.

 “No, no tea just yet.” She was looking at the family home with disgust. “I must have a bath first, I’m positively filthy from the road dust.” Without a further glance at anyone, she strolled inside, heading upstairs. Shooting a quick glance to me to confirm I had no disagreement, Hallers went into action, giving out instructions to the servants to arrange the bath and unpacking.  

With a small sigh of relief, I turned to return inside, only to pause as I felt a small tug on my sleeve.

Surprised, I looked back to see the maid I had rescued from being struck.

“Thank you, Miss!” Her eyes were filled with gratitude, making me unsure as to how to answer. I wasn’t someone who should be thanked. I was the one who brought that woman back in the first place.

I forced a smile, “Don’t worry about it. She thinks everyone is useless…” I paused, briefly looking back at the home which now contained my mother. “Especially me.”

“That’s impossible!” She stuttered slightly on her reply, obviously nervous at the conversation, “No one could think YOU are useless, after everything you’ve done! Everyone looks up to you, Miss!”

“I wouldn’t say that…” I met Hallers gaze, expecting him to chastise the girl for not returning to work but found him nodding in agreement instead. I wondered briefly if complimenting me was the way to get on his good side, and then brushed the idea aside as ridiculous. Hallers was an eternal professional. He would never give leeway in the rules for such a silly reason!

Focusing back on the young maid, I asked. “What’s your name?”

“Lia, Miss.” She curtseyed as she spoke, a well-practiced gesture. Despite her youth and inexperience, she had obviously been working hard. I made a mental note to commend her to Hallers later, along with a warning to keep her away from my mother.

It was the least I could do.

“Well Lia, I’m happy you’re fine.” I turned away and walked back inside, thinking of the confrontation that was awaiting me shortly. 

“One of us should be.”

______________________________ 

My mother took her time with the bath, only coming down after several hours had passed. I had given up waiting and was going through some of the weekly expense reports in the office, feeling tense. Every nerve was on edge. If anything, it seemed  as though Mother’s long absence from the family had worsened her self-indulgent and abusive personality. My hopes of being able to reason with her were disappearing fast. 

This was not going to go well.

A quiet knock on the door sounded, and Hallers, his face once again expressionless, let my mother in. I stood up to greet her, smiling despite my sudden nervousness, and looked over at the butler, feeling a pain in my chest at the concern in his eyes.

“We’ll need a few minutes alone. I’ll ring for tea once we’re done.”

He looked back at my mother for a moment, worry slipping through his otherwise perfect mask. “Are you sure?” He whispered. It must have cost him a lot to ask this, and  for the briefest of moments I wished more than anything I could say yes. That I could hide behind him and beg him to stay. To protect me from what I had to do next.

 But that wouldn’t help me in the end. I had to change my fate, and to do that… I needed my mother on board.

“I’m sure.” And I was. Despite how much I wanted to avoid this, I knew with absolute certainty that I didn’t want him to witness what I was about to do. “I… have to do this. “ 

His face resumed its mask, but his eyes stayed on mine.  “Good luck, Miss.”

The door closed behind him, and I was alone with my mother.

______________________________

She was beautiful, it was impossible to deny it. Coppery hair, held up in an intricate design, large dark eyes framed by full lashes, her features were delicate, hardly touched by time. She moved with a grace of a much younger woman, each motion stunning to watch.

She sat down in one of the chairs, looking me over with a critical eye. “How are things going with the Prince?” The first question she always asked when she saw me.

How many times had I dreamed of giving her a positive answer, of finally making her proud of me?

But it was never meant to be, in this life or the last.

“We barely see each other.”  

In response, She glared at me, annoyed by my answer. “PERHAPS if you put more attention to your appearance?” She glanced at my dress again. “No man would want to court a plain girl who dresses like a servant!”

I couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. I did wear simpler designs at home, no longer comfortable in the complex lace ridden monstrosities that Angela constantly wanted me to wear, but it was still well made, elegant clothing. This design was one of our best sellers at Prosperity, in fact. 

“No, this just won’t do.” She shook her head, smiling condescendingly at me. “I’ve heard of this new shop, “Prosperity.” Apparently it’s all the rage among the nobility. I’ll take you there before your birthday and we’ll try to make you look presentable.”

I kept my face straight, sitting down behind my desk. “That’s alright, I own quite a few dresses from there already.”

How I managed to say that without laughing, I was unsure. Fortunately, Mother didn’t notice, it was unclear if she had even heard my response at all. She was already making her own plans.

“Of course, I’ll go shopping tomorrow, I need an entirely new wardrobe. I’ve had this for an entire season, and I hate to have them think I’m out of fashion. Then once we’re done at the dress shop we’ll move on to accessories…” She continued speaking, but I had already stopped listening, internally wincing as I mentally added up the amount of money she was already planning on spending within her first day of arriving.

I couldn’t let this happen.

“Mother,” I interrupted her, ignoring her annoyed stare, “As far as shopping goes, we’ll have to be careful. We still have debt to pay, and we can’t afford…”

“Of course we can afford it!” She waved a hand, dismissing my concerns. “Your father is a lord! We run the duchy!”

I shook my head. “The money from the duchy is all going back into the land for now, to help it get back on its feet. Right now we are solely getting money from my business…”

“WHAT?” She jumped to her feet, her face pale. “Are you working for money, you stupid girl? Who do you think you are, a merchant’s daughter?!” She laughed, an angry, bitter sound. “If anyone caught wind of this, if the palace heard of this… you’d be finished socially.”

“We’d be finished anyways, given the amount of debt we had.”

“None of that will matter when you are Queen!” Her voice was raising, her face turning red. “No one will dare collect from us then!”

“We can’t count on that.” My voice turned pleading. “Please be reasonable, we must live within our means…”

“WE COULD COUNT ON IT IF YOU WERE DOING YOUR JOB PROPERLY!” Leaning over my desk, her face was close to my own, I could see my face reflected in her furious gaze. “If you were prettier, smarter… better… He would love you and never look away. Don’t you DARE ruin my life because you are too boring to keep your own fiancé from straying!”

Mother sat down, catching her breath as she finished her tirade. I watched her with a tired gaze, wishing I was anywhere else. That I was anyone else.

My hand trembled as it inched towards the drawer in my desk.

“Please, Mother. For once in your life consider your family before yourself. I’m only asking for a little restraint, nothing life-changing. Can’t we just…” My voice broke. “Be a family? Work together?”

She laughed, her eyes mocking me as she answered with a smile. “You do not tell me what to do. You should never have had any involvement with the Duchy’s finances or a business in the first place. We’ll put a stop to it immediately. Your father will take over, as is proper, and you will focus all your attention on catching and keeping the prince’s attention. As for me?” She chuckled. “I am going shopping tomorrow.”

I felt a chill, as my heart froze within my chest. My gaze turned cold and my hand no longer trembled as I unlocked the drawer, slowly removing the folder from underneath the false bottom. 

The file I had Rig prepare as his second assignment. The one I hoped would never have to be used.

Thud.

I tossed the papers on the desk in front of her. I was smiling, but the expression didn’t meet my eyes, which grew colder as she reached for the papers, confused 

“What is this?”

“See for yourself.” Every word lacked emotion. I couldn’t allow myself any chance to feel pity for her, to feel regret over what had to be done.

She opened the file, reading each page, the blood quickly draining from her face. Tossing the papers to the floor, she glared at me, spitting with rage. 

“LIES!” 

I sighed. “No, Mother. That’s the truth.” I pointed at the folder. “You are having an affair with the Earl of Beral. You have been visiting him at his private house regularly during the time you pretended you were staying with family. The affair has been going on for two years now, although he is by no means the first.” I explained the contents of the papers with a dispassionate tone, as if describing the weather. “Every detail of your affairs is written down in that file. Every. Sordid. Detail. ” 

Her eyes widened. “No matter what some piece of paper says, that doesn’t make it true.”

“But it is true, Mother.”

And it was.

______________________________

“Mother!” I slammed the door to the small room we were renting, furious. “Did you steal from the dress shop I work for?!”

She sat at the table, her usually well-styled hair disheveled. I noticed she was wearing a beautiful new gown, now stained with dirt. In one hand clutched a piece of paper, the other covered her eyes as she sobbed. 

“That bastard!” She pounded the table with the fist holding the paper, crumpling it further. “THAT DIRTY, LYING BASTARD!”

I was confused, but still pushed forward, determined to hear the answer. “Mother… did you steal from the shop I work for? They fired me today, thinking that we were working together! That was the only source of income we had! What are we going to do?!”

She dropped the hand covering her eyes, glaring at me. “None of that matters, you stupid girl! I needed the money so I took it!” She sniffed disdainfully. “I’m the wife of their Duke, they owe it to me!”

I winced. We hadn’t seen father in weeks. Severely depressed after we had lost our home, he had taken to gambling in gentleman’s halls. I hid what money I could, but he somehow always found some to take with him, only to come back with nothing, smelling of alcohol and regret. I had heard rumors that he owed the wrong kind of people money now, and with him not returning day after day, I assumed the worst.

“We’re not owed anything now, Mother.” I sat down at the table as well, feeling defeated. “What’s wrong?”

“I took the time to get dressed up, and go see him! He should be GRATEFUL! How dare he turn me away, as if he’s somehow BETTER than me!” She was barely coherent in her rants, throwing the piece of paper on the table.

I looked at the letter, and felt pain at the words. “You were having an affair with the Earl of Beral?”

 “Six years we’ve known each other! But now that he has a young whore for a wife he suddenly doesn’t need me anymore!” She pounded the table again with her fist. “I thought he simply wasn’t getting my letters, that’s why he hasn’t come to get me… but this…”

I wanted to cry, but held back my tears, trying to reach out to comfort her. “Mother…”

She slapped my hand away. “STAY away from me!” She spat, standing up and pointing at me. “This is all YOUR fault! All you had to do was marry the Queen’s brat and we would have been happy!”

“Mo...”

“You killed your father, you know?” She grinned viciously “He died in a ditch, alone, without a single crown to his name and it’s all YOUR fault!”

“…” I couldn’t speak, it hurt too much to breathe.

“Well I’m not staying here a moment longer.” Mother walked to the door, pausing and looking back at me. “I’m going to find the earl, and I’m going to remind him of who I am. And all the dirt I have on him.” She laughed. “Goodbye.”

The door slammed behind her, leaving me alone, staring at the door.

______________________________

“Even if  you have this… paper.” Mother pointed at the file on the floor. “It doesn’t prove anything.”

I shrugged. “I don’t have to prove anything, Mother. All I have to do is release this information to the nobility.” 

Her mouth gaped open for a few stunned moments. “You wouldn’t!”

“I would. You would be cast out from all proper society. A social pariah.”

“But… You would ruin your own reputation at the same time!”

“It may be slightly detrimental, yes.” I spread my hands helplessly. “But after father divorces you and we’re separated legally, many will remember how little you and I see each other. They think of the Queen as raising me more than you already. In the end, I’ll survive the scandal.” I stood, keeping her gaze. “But you won’t.”

In the silence that followed I gathered the papers on the floor, stacking them neatly on the desk and sitting back down.

 “You will be given a monthly allowance. Use the money how you will. Be here for birthdays and anniversaries, otherwise I don’t care where you are or how you spend your life. I think both Father and I would be happier if you spent as little time as possible here.”

I handed her some money, which she held limply in her hand. She stared up with me, her eyes filled with a hopeless rage.

 “I will make you pay for this, you ungrateful brat! You’ll regret crossing me!”

Tapping the folder in front of me, I smiled. “Try me.”

“You’re a monster!” She whispered the words, staring down at the papers that held her dark secrets.

“Naturally.” I stood up leaning closer, whispering the last words in her ear. “One gave birth to me.”

She left silently, and I sat back in my chair in silence.

______________________________

It was done.

I should feel relieved, or angry or sad… but instead, I felt empty.

I had wished for a different ending in this life.

______________________________

I stood on the street, staring at the woman’s body on the street. Rig put a hand on my arm, worried. “I didn’t want you to see this, but Hale said she looked like you…”

“It’s my mother.” I whispered, taking in the all too familiar features, now still and silent. “How…?”

“Made to look like a robbery, but there’s some whispers that an Earl might have paid someone to keep her quiet.” He studied my face for a few moments. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No.” I turned away, shaking my head slowly. “You can’t help the dead.”

______________________________

She was still alive in this life, and even if she never loved me… I still hoped she had a different end in this one.

I stared down at the folder on my desk, replacing it in its hidden compartment. It felt unnaturally heavy in my hands.

This was what I was now.

“A monster.” I whispered, feeling the room starting the fade around me. I was having trouble catching my breath. I reaching out a hand for the bell to call Hallers, but it seemed to move further away.

“Miss?” I heard the door open, but the sound was wrong, as if I were underwater. “I saw her Ladyship exit, are you…”

“A monster.” As I fell through the darkness I felt someone grab me.

“LENORA!”

______________________________

Unsure of how much time had passed, I started to fight my way to consciousness, but paused as I heard familiar voices.

“Thank you for checking on her. The doctor says she’ll be fine, she just needs rest.”

Hallers? Who is he talking to?  I wanted to sit up but  every muscle in my body felt weak as if I had run for miles without rest.

“She works too hard!” A woman spoke out, upset. Maline? “She needs to learn to take it easy, she’s not even sixteen yet and everyone depends on her.”

“She’s tough.” Another voice answered, the accent reminded me of Rig. “She’ll take on the world and win.”

 “I know she’s tough, but I worry!”

“I worry too.”

The voice that sounded like Hallers sighed. “All we can do is support her. But if anyone hurts her…”

Rig’s voice laughed. “Oh they won’t live to regret it, will they?”

I wanted to speak out, ask them who they were talking to, but even as I prepared to open my eyes, a wave of exhaustion hit me, and I returned to the peace of unconsciousness.

[tokoyamisstuff]

Scars Ch. 6 - Bucky x Reader Soulmate AU

Based on the Soulmate Prompt where whatever you write on your skin, it appears on your soulmate’s.

[Masterlist]

Summary: Sometimes your worst enemy is yourself.

Warnings: Angst ending with liiiiight fluff.

Words: 3177

Chapter 6: Approach

“You can’t stay in there forever, Buck!”

Not even his best friend Steve could convince him from doing so. It was like he hadn’t even moved an inch since they got here a few days ago. At least he was eating and drinking, but that was it. He wouldn’t answer any of you, and sleep was impossible to him in his current state.

He was numb, lost and confused. And the pain wouldn’t stop. There was no way to redeem himself - or at least he felt that way.

“I’m sorry” you mumbled, “But I have to go to work now.”

God, you were still so exhausted. Every night you’d wake up from nightmares several times, bathed in sweat and breathing like you had just ran a marathon.

Sadly, you had to go. Those first few days, you called in sick and took some time to pull yourself together - but you couldn’t stay sick for too long. You were a workaholic all this time before, and they’d get worried. The risk of them paying you a visit to look if you needed any help would get too high. Well, your colleagues were really nice people, now that you thought about it.

“It’s alright” Steve assured you, giving you a hug to bid you goodbye “I’ll care for him. Thank you again, for everything!”

In contrast to what Steve said: For the rest of the day, nothing was right.

You couldn’t concentrate even if your life would depend on it, always thinking back at how the poor Bucky was rotting in your room - and it was your fault. Even your patients realized something was off, since you couldn’t force yourself to smile even the slightest bit. On your breaks, you stared out of the window, buried in thoughts this whole time. And you were watching the clock until you could finally go home again.

Just a sick friend you wanted to care for, you told your colleagues when they asked you what’s wrong. It wasn’t a lie, actually.

Understandably, your mind was in conflict about what you should do, but you had the whole day to think about it: You’d talk to him. Face to face. You wanted, no, needed to be strong. For him.

“I’m back” you said grumpily as you closed the door behind you.

Steve’s look said it all: Bucky hadn’t come out yet, even while you were away.

“He’s not even talking to you?” The Super Soldier squinched his eyes shut and muttered a “No”. Damn, what a blockhead that man seemed to be.

“You’re burying my whole apartment in paperwork, Rogers” you mocked as you pushed away some folders and files from your kitchen table, to make room for your bag.

“I’m going to make spaghe-” your casual chat ended abruptly when a photo fell out of the folders - showing Bucky, lying on a operation table, covered in blood. You picked it up, feeling tears emerging in your eyes the longer you looked at it. He looked like a corpse - no, even worse. Quickly, Steve snatched the picture out of your hand.

“This is some stuff I collected those past years at one of HYDRA’s old hideouts” he explained. “After he escaped them, I tried to find him all this time - but instead of any clues, I found this. I know it’s painful to look at, but all of this is evidence that he didn’t do any of his crimes on purpose.”

“Did he consider going to therapy?” you whispered with a grim tone, making Steve wiggle his eyes playfully, silently judging you.

“Okay” you added, “I get it. Maybe I’ll take this as an opportunity to start one, too.” You chuckled. “That would be a weird couple therapy, huh?”

Did you just say ‘couple’? As if that could ever work out between you two. Too much had happened. And yet...

“Lay down for a bit. I bet you didn’t allow yourself to have a break ever since I left. I’ll cook, and then...”

“No need to” he answered, full of resolve. “Is it okay to get my stuff to your home office? You’ll have more space here, and I can work in peace.”

“Did you just try to politely say I’m annoying you, Cap?” You wondered how you were able to laugh so carefree while someone else in this house was suffering at that same moment. “It’s okay. I’ll bring you some food later.”

While you were cooking, you began to wonder. Steve is worried about bothering you with cooking and all that stuff, but you didn’t mind. It was fine, actually. You’d even say you wanted this.

You inherited this house from your parents, who wanted to flee here to escape HYDRA - but they were found in your homeland and got killed before they could move to this place. It was so big...way too big for a single person. And it was lonely sometimes. So knowing someone to be here was a nice variety.

“Here you go” said, placing the plate on a free spot of the desk. Steve was still buried deep into all kinds of paperwork, currently being on the phone with someone.

“Please, Y/N” you suddenly heared him whisper just as you were about to leave the room. “If you’re going to talk to him, you have to be sure you’re 100% sure that you’re ready for it.”

You didn’t answer - because you didn’t know if you were.

How long had your hand been on that handle now?

Opening the door felt like the most difficult task in the world for you. Right now, you’d only feel fear about what the reunion with him would awaken inside of you.

“No” you thought, wiping some tears of negative anticipation out of your face. “Since when am I so sensitive? Everything will be fine...”

“B-Bucky?” you stuttered as you stepped into the completely back room. “I- uh, I’m sorry for coming in just like this. But, well...it’s my house, and I got a spare key.”

Bucky sat in a corner of the dark room, his back leaning against the wall. Oviously, he wasn’t exactly glad that you tried to get close to him. But damn, you simply had the loveliest voice that has ever graced his ears...

Even in this almost entirely dark room, you could clearly see the rings under his eyes. He looked like the perfect picture of misery, and your chest stirred at this sight.

At first, he shot you a menacing glare, but tried to relax his expression, still eyeing you warily as you stepped inside.

“Y/N...”  His voice alone was enough to make you jump. It was the same as the Winter Soldier, even though softer - but still, every time he’d open his mouth it would cause you to shiver, instantly tensing as you tried to not lose control over your own body again.

He immediaely realized the obvious effect his voice had on you, so he didn’t say anything else. His head turned away from you, and you could see him flinch when you raised the blinds of the room and opened the windows, letting some fresh air hit his face.

“Keep on talking” you said as you slowly approached him, “It’s okay. I can bear with it.”

The light you saw in his eyes was fright - or wonder...perhaps a bit of both.

“You shouldn’t be around me” he stated. As you sat down next to him, he tried to get some distance between the two of you in an instant.

“Steve is worried about you” was your firm answer, shyly adding “And so am I.”

He arched his brow, tilting his head to the side to face you again. Here they were again: Those sapphire blue eyes, closer than ever before. But this time, you could even find some beauty in them.

“Are you alright being here?” His voice was deep and rough, but gravely concerned. It also sounded a bit hoarse, as if he’d been crying all day. Wasn’t unlikely, since his red eyes just strenghtened that theory.

You were still shaking so hard even a blind person would notice. Plus: All that evident distress, showing clearly on your face. “No, I’m not really okay. But it doesn’t matter” you said, stumbling over your own words.

All those past years, you only ever wanted to be close to him - but right now, that you knew the truth, you couldn’t even stand to breathe the same air as him.

Your behaviour was contradictionary. He could fully understand if you’d act accordingly: To hate and fear him. Yet, even though you were apparently still very frightened just by his presence alone, your words were kind and soft.

He tried to get up and away from you, but felt too weak and simply plumped down to the floor again. “I’m fine on my own. Thanks for your concern” he said without a single trace of emotion in his voice.

But his struggling was to no avail - you’d stay.

Both of you were so insecure, carefully tiptoeing around each other and unsure what to do next.

“I’m sorry.” He said it so many times before, but this was the first time it wasn’t just words written on your skin.

Your answer was plain, but the truth: “It wasn’t you, was it? Steve said so.”

Yes, it wasn’t him. Hydra messed his mind up so badly, it hurt you to even think about it. He never wanted to do any of this.

“Still, they made me do it. With my own hands. They used me for this. It would be a lie to say I had nothing to do with it. And disrespectful towards the victims.”

You sighed at his words. He really seemed to hate himself, and even though you did your own part to make him think like that, you couldn’t accept it staying that way.

Rolling up your sleeve, you revealed an unsighty scar. At the first second, he didn’t understand. But then it hit him like a truck - it was a burn mark.

“Pretty ugly, huh? They’re all over my body. Last thing I knew was that I woke up in the hospital. I'’m pretty proud that I managed to get out of the burning house back then.”

Bucky’s glare was locked at your wounds before he’d face the ground once again, ashamed of his actions. “You're still beautiful” he whispered so quietly you didn’t even hear it. Maybe it was also the fact that your heart was racing so fast, it was drowning any other sound for you.

Pulling your knees towards your torso, you kept on talking: “But they are a sign that I fought. And I’m here now. An old lady once told me I should never let the past distract me from the possibilitie of the future. And so should you. I know they took your previous life, but...well, you can start anew here. Make up for everything and lead a happy life...one day. I’d love to help you catch up on all the things you’ve missed.”

Then, he would finally look up from the ground to face you - a weak smile forming at the corners of his mouth. Your words seemed to have reached him. A shiver went down your spine as your glare met his again, and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you again. He stared pretty obviously and a little too intense, as if he was trying to memorize every single one of your facial features, afraid you’d never be this close to him again.

He sunk into the ocean of your beautiful orbs, before his glare wandered over to your arm. You winced, and tried to surpress a scream when he touched the scar - making him realize he reached out for you with his cybernetic arm. Seeing your trembling body right next to his made him want to curl you up in his arms so badly - but he knew it wouldn’t have the calming effect he wished for.

You felt your heart race even faster than before, but it also pained you that you were still so weak. Bucky did nothing wrong.

Bucky grabbed his head between his hands, muttering “S-sorry...I didn’t want...” But his vocal cords seemed to still being weakened from all the crying those past days. Still, it his voice had a nice and friendly tone - nothing like the one yelling at your parents to tell them what he wanted to know.

“That’s my problem and mine alone” you explained. And you meant it. “It’s not your fault. It’s the Winter Soldier that I’m afraid of, not you.”

“No, it’s just as you said. I’m a broken weapon, but I also can’t become human again. I could snap at any second so I shouldn’t be near anyone. But I don’t want to make Steve any more sad so I need to live on, I guess.”

Before he could even speak the last word of that sentence, he felt your palm brushing his cheek. It was just for a second before you hastily pulled back, but you did it. You touched him out of your own accord. And now you just kneeled in front of him, looking at him with wide, teary eyes.

“Don’t say something like that. Please...I-I mean...I've already forgiven you, Bucky! So please, don’t talk so badly about yourself!”

His breathing hitched at your pleading tone, and he searched for the glimpse of a lie at your face - but the gentle shine glimmering up in your eyes told him it was the truth.

“I don’t deserve this” Bucky answered, but gave you an earnest, reassuring smile. He tried, even though you couldn’t change how lowly he thought of himself right now. It would be a long way...

“Good thing you don’t have a say in that matter of who I forgive and who not” you chuckled. “I-I really regret those harsh words I said. It wasn’t fair. And I don’t want you to feel bad for me freaking out. I don’t do this on purpose - it’s just...well, when I see you, my body reacts on it’s own, I can’t change it.”

Wow. You were so bad at comforting you wanted to open a hole and immediately bury yourself into it. Quickly, you tried changing the topic, getting up on your feet again. “And now, you really need to take a bath and get some rest afterwards. Dinner’s ready, too! So don’t you dare declining my offer!”

Confidently, even though still shaking, you turned around and got out of the room - Bucky following you like a lost puppy.

“Make yourself at home, okay?” you demanded with the most charming smile he’s ever seen as you placed some fresh towels and new clothes on the cupboard. He nodded obediently at you, before you closed the door and started reheating the spaghetti.

When he was done and stepped into the kitchen, you were sitting there, reading as you were waiting for him. 

“Where’s Steve?” Bucky whispered hesistantly, and you pointed at one of the doors in the back.

“At my home office, working without any end. You sure got a wonderful friend.”

“I do” he mumbled as you put a plate of spaghetti in front of his face, and suddenly he snickered weirdly.

“First I got such a loyal best friend, and now a caring Soulmate. Not really a surprise, considering the kind of mess I am.”

“Well, Steve and I are sure a piece of work, too” you couldn't help but chuckle along with him, even though the topic was kinda sad. “We sure are an interesting trio.”

It was such a small thing to just watch him eating, but it made hope swell in your chest. He was a kind soul, even if broken. Yet his eyes had a weird mixture of saying “Come near me and I’ll kill you” and “I’m afraid, please don’t hurt me!”

Bucky didn’t mind you watching him, even though he was way more nervous than he would ever admit, not even to himself.

You wondered about it. Bucky was quiet and reserved, nothing like Steve had described his friend: Once he seemed to have been very upfront, cheerful, and easy to open up to people. An idol for everyone. And now, he was so silent. So mistrusting...maybe it’ll get better, given time...

“I hope it wasn’t all that bad” you cooed, and your gentle attitude made it easier for him to be at your side - even though he still felt that it was a bad idea.

“No, it tasted fine. Thank you very much” he mumbled into his beard, this whole time showing his sweet little sulk. Ugh...he’d need a shave, too. Maybe tomorrow.

You stood up, waving a hand as a sign for him to follow you. “And now, for the love of god: Sleep! If not for yourself, please do it for me!”

Steve was still sitting in your office room and leaned back on the chair, grinning widely as he heared every word the two of you exchanged.

Bucky layed down onto the bed for the first time, after you’d scold him about never using it, while Steve had to sleep on the couch. Okay, it wasn’t really as if Steve was sleeping that much anyway. Those two really are a bunch.

“Sleep well, Bucky” you whispered carefully, even daring to get a strand of hair out of his face. You started to admire his handsome features - the same you caught yourself staring at this whole evening already.

That warm smile you offered him somehow managed to make his chest feel slightly lighter, and his drained body would do the rest of the work, as he felt his eyelids falling shut without his consent.

You stayed a while and simply sat on the edge of his bed, humming a little song to help him fall asleep. It was amazing how well you could control yourself when it came to helping him - even though you felt like you were collapsing into yourself on the inside.

Even in sleep he still looked troubled, as if he was unable to find peace even in sleep. He had something of a fallen angel, you thought.

It was weird: Seeing him like that made your heartbeat rapidly slow down. He didn’t look scary at all. Just like a man you really wanted to care for - and be close with.

You pulled the blanket over his shoulder and neck and bid him one last, loving look before making your way to the bedroom yourself.

Somehow, the bed felt cold for the first time, even though you were used to sleep alone. But then, you heared Bucky snoring from next door. The sound made you chuckle, a feeling of giddiness and wholeness arising in your chest.

He was actually kinda cute.

And soon, that last thought would put you to sleep.

[Part 7]

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