#either when the spells were made or when they were cast

[elizabeth-holland24]

The Beast Within - Chapter 5

Days in the sun when my life has barely begun. Not until my whole life is done will I ever leave you. Will I tremble again, to my dear one's gorgeous refrain. Will you now forever remain. Out of reach of my arms. Oh, those days in the sun. What I’d give to just relive one. Undo what's done. And bring back the light. Oh, I could sing, of the pain these dark days bring. The spell we are under. Still is the wonder of us I sing of tonight. How, in the midst of all this sorrow, can so much hope and love, endure. I was innocent and certain, now I'm wise but unsure. Days in the past, I can't go back into my childhood. Oh, those precious days couldn't last. One that my father made secure. I can feel a change in me. Oh, hold me closer. I'm stronger now, but still not free. Days in the sun, will return. We must believe as others do. That days in the sun. Will come shinning through.

Flashback

The woods always felt alive, even in their stillness. Sunlight filtered through the canopy of leaves, casting golden patterns on the forest floor. A young Mausi skipped over roots and around trees, her worn shoes crunching against the earthy path. This was her sanctuary, a place where rules didn’t matter, where she could dream endlessly and imagine a world beyond her small village.

As she wandered deeper, a muffled sound stopped her in her tracks. A soft, hiccupping sniffle.

Curiosity, tinged with concern, bubbled inside her. Who could be crying here, in her woods? The sound pulled her forward, her little feet quiet now, as if afraid to disturb the sadness lingering in the air.

And there he was—a boy, crouched by the base of an ancient oak tree, his head buried in his knees, his shoulders shaking ever so slightly. His clothes, though finer than hers, were dirtied from the forest floor. He looked about her age, maybe a little older, but it was hard to tell. His form was curled in on itself, as if he wanted to disappear, to fold himself into the shadows of the woods and never come out.

Mausi’s heart clenched. She didn’t know why, but seeing him like that hurt her in a way she couldn’t name. She wasn’t the kind of girl to ignore someone in pain—especially not when that someone seemed so lost.

She took a cautious step forward, her small voice breaking the silence. “Why are you crying?”

The boy stiffened but didn’t look up. “Go away,” he muttered, his voice raw and shaky.

Mausi frowned but didn’t leave. Instead, she plopped herself down beside him, tucking her knees under her chin. She wasn’t the type to be scared off easily, not by a little grumpiness.

“I’m Mausi,” she said cheerfully, though her voice was softer than usual, as if she knew not to push too hard.

Silence.

“My dad calls me that. It means ‘little mouse.’” She paused, glancing at him. “What’s your name?”

“Doesn’t matter,” he grumbled.

“Well, I’ll just call you ‘grumpy boy’ then,” Mausi said, crossing her arms with mock indignation.

At that, he finally looked up, his tear-streaked face partially hidden by unruly blonde hair. His green eyes, red-rimmed from crying, locked onto hers. For a fleeting moment, something unspoken passed between them—a connection neither could fully understand.

“I don’t need friends,” he said, his tone defensive but weak.

“That’s fine. I don’t need another friend either,” Mausi replied, shrugging. “But I’m not going anywhere. You look like you need someone.”

The boy stared at her, as if trying to decide whether she was a nuisance or a lifeline. Eventually, his shoulders relaxed just a fraction, and he let out a sigh.

They sat there in silence, two small figures against the vastness of the woods. The weight in the air began to lift, little by little, as the boy’s sniffles faded into the rustling of leaves.

From that day on, the two became an unlikely pair, their connection forged in the quiet corners of the forest where the rest of the world couldn’t reach them. The boy never told Mausi his name, and though curiosity burned within her, she never pushed him to share it. Somehow, she understood that names held power, and his reluctance was less about hiding and more about protecting something fragile within himself.

Instead, they created a world of their own, one where names didn’t matter, and labels were irrelevant. They met in the same secluded spot beneath the ancient oak tree, the one whose roots snaked into the earth like veins carrying the lifeblood of the forest. It was their sanctuary—a place where laughter, exploration, and quiet companionship thrived, untainted by the weight of expectations.

The boy was guarded, his words often clipped and his demeanour prickly. He had a way of snapping when he felt too exposed, a defence mechanism Mausi came to recognize as fear rather than anger. But she had a gift for disarming him. Her chatter filled the silences he carried like armour, and though he’d roll his eyes or let out exaggerated sighs, Mausi noticed the corners of his mouth twitching upward when he thought she wasn’t looking.

She talked about anything and everything:how her father was always building something; how she didn't have a mother, how she loves adventures and reading, hoping one day she'll get an adventure of her own, how in her village they made fun of her for being different. Her words painted vibrant pictures, filling their little world with light and warmth.

At first, the boy didn’t respond much beyond a grunt or a sarcastic comment, but slowly, the cracks in his shield began to show. In stolen moments of vulnerability, he shared pieces of himself—little glimpses into the life he kept hidden.

As the weeks turned into months, the boy’s edges softened further. He taught Mausi how to skip stones across the surface of the creek, laughing when her first attempts sent the rocks plunging straight to the bottom. In return, she showed him how to whistle using a blade of grass, their giggles echoing through the forest as they competed to see who could make the loudest sound.

Yet, no matter how much they shared, there was always a heaviness in the boy’s eyes, a weight Mausi couldn’t quite name. 

One day, as they sat side by side on the bank of the creek, Mausi noticed a scar running along the inside of his wrist. It was faint, almost hidden by the dirt smudging his skin, but unmistakable. She reached out instinctively, her fingers brushing against it before she realized what she was doing.

The boy jerked his arm away, his expression darkening. “Don’t,” he said sharply, his voice colder than she’d ever heard it.

“I’m sorry,” Mausi stammered, pulling her hand back. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s nothing,” he interrupted, his tone firm. But the way he turned away from her, his shoulders tense and his hands clenched into fists, told a different story.

Mausi didn’t say anything else, afraid that if she pushed too hard, he might disappear again. But the scar stayed with her, a silent reminder that the boy she called her friend carried more pain than she could see.

Even in their happiest moments, the shadow lingered. It was in the way he sometimes stared off into the distance, his brow furrowed, as if he were reliving something he couldn’t escape. It was in the way he flinched at sudden noises, his head snapping around as though expecting danger.

Mausi wished she could take that shadow from him, to make him laugh so hard it disappeared forever. But deep down, she knew it wasn’t that simple. Some hurts ran too deep to be erased by kind words or shared laughter.

Still, she stayed. Because even if she couldn’t heal him, she could be there—to listen, to laugh, to remind him that he wasn’t alone.

And in return, the boy gave her something she didn’t even know she needed. For all his guardedness and sharp edges, he made her feel seen in a way no one else ever had. When he looked at her, it was as though she mattered—not as the village’s ‘little mouse’ but as Mausi, a girl who could climb trees and weave daisy chains and bring light into the darkest corners of the forest.

Together, they carved out a space where the weight of the world didn’t exist. It wasn’t perfect, and it wasn’t without its complications, but it was theirs. And for a while, that was enough.

The rain came suddenly, drenching the forest in a matter of moments. Thunder rumbled in the distance, and the sky hung low and gray, casting the woods in a shadowy gloom.

Mausi clutched a bundle of wildflowers in her hands as she raced toward their spot, her heart pounding with a strange urgency she couldn’t explain. The rain soaked through her clothes, chilling her to the bone, but she didn’t care. Something felt wrong—terribly wrong.

When she reached the clearing, she saw him.

He was curled up at the base of their tree, just as he’d been the first day they met. But this time, his sobs were not muffled. They tore through the air, raw and gut-wrenching, the kind of sound that made the world feel heavier.

Mausi dropped the flowers and ran to him, falling to her knees beside him. “What’s wrong?” she asked, her voice trembling. “Are you hurt?”

He didn’t answer. He just shook his head, his hands clutching at the damp fabric of his shirt as if trying to hold himself together.

Mausi hesitated, unsure of what to do. Finally, she did the only thing that felt right—she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, even though she didn’t know if it was. “You’re not alone.”

For a moment, he stiffened in her embrace, as though the kindness was too much to bear. But then he broke, his sobs growing louder as he buried his face in her shoulder.

“I can’t—” he choked out between gasps. “It’s gone. They’re gone. Everything’s gone.”

Mausi didn’t understand what he meant, but she didn’t need to. She just held him tighter, her own tears mixing with the rain as she tried to absorb some of his pain.

For weeks, he didn’t come back.

Mausi visited their spot every day, her heart sinking a little more each time she found it empty. She left little gifts for him—wildflowers, pebbles, even a tiny carved mouse she’d made from a piece of wood. But they remained untouched.

She began to wonder if he was ever coming back.

When he finally did, he wasn’t alone.

Mausi’s face lit up when she saw him, but the joy was short-lived. The boy she knew was gone, replaced by someone colder, harder. He stood with a group of older boys, their laughter sharp and cruel.

“You’re here!” she said, her voice filled with relief. “I was so worried. Are you okay?”

He smirked, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “What, are you some kind of puppy?” he sneered. “I don’t need you following me around.”

The words stung, but Mausi refused to let him see. “That’s all you have to say?” she asked, her voice trembling. “After disappearing for so long?”

“I don’t owe you anything,” he snapped. “I’m not your friend. We’re not even on the same level.”

The boys around him laughed, their jeers echoing in the clearing.

Mausi blinked back tears, her heartbreaking in a way she didn’t think was possible. “Fine,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “Sorry I cared.”

She turned and walked away, leaving the flowers she’d brought for him lying on the ground.

The boy watched her go, his fists clenched at his sides. Every instinct screamed at him to call her back, to apologize, to tell her the truth. But he didn’t. He couldn’t.

“She’s better off without me,” he told himself. “Everything I care about gets taken away. It’s better this way.”

But as her figure disappeared into the shadows of the woods, he felt the weight of his words crushing him. For the first time in his young life, he wondered if pushing someone away hurt more than losing them.

A/N: Hey guys, sorry it took me so long to publish this chapter. Thank you so much for the love and support this story has gained. We got a flashback, wonder who that boy is. Anyway I hope you enjoy this chapter, thank you so much for the love and support on this story again. Don't forget to comment, like and reblog, so I know if you are enjoying it. I think that's all. Thanks for reading <3

[protectorsoftheearth]

So the magic being fucked up is living in my brain and I need to try and figure it out pls help

Here's what's confirmed

Sending doesn't work

Scrying, Augury, contacting other planes, clairvoyance, communing with divine entities all don't work

Teleportation circles have all been dispelled

Curses are stronger

Permanent light enchantments have been dispelled

Specifically 'old magic' enchantments have been dispelled, those thought permanent

Magically bound prisoners escaping

Petrification releasing

Magical items have not been affected by this mass dispel

Possible consequences from that

Trent, the other Cerberus mages and Caleb are no longer bound

The prison under Xhorhas has been fucked up, as has the Vault under the Platinum Sanctum in Vasselheim which includes the horn of Orcus and other terrifying magical artifacts

Hallow and other such protective longstanding enchantments are fucked, ie most temples and the blooming grove?

Ryn is no longer petrified

The binds on ukatoa and other such entities are released or in the process of being weakened? (also the divine gate is being weakened?)

Halas is free from his gem?

The mages in Aeor that were kept in stasis are now free

The binds on Vecna are released?

Is that it? Have I missed anything

[sqvishii]

My personal headcanon is that the way Fae asks for their lover's hand in marriage is by weaving them a flower ring and proposing to them, they either cast a spell to not wilt or to change the flower ring regularly

So imagine the shock when you jokingly proposing to any of the diansomia boys with a flower ring

(This applies to qny of them, but i had silver in mind)

(Also just dumping my tjoughts here)

THIS IS SO CUTE I ☹☹

fuck ir this is so cutr im doing all of them

♡

• sebek zigvolt

both of you were walking in the garden, while he was talking about how great malleus is, you busied yourself with a flower ring

it was a bit simple to make, you wondered if your half fae boyfriend would like your little creation

while he was still talking, you went in front of him and presented him the ring, making him stop for a moment.

his reaction was priceless, just a blank stare with blown eyes once he realized what it was LMAOOO 😭

"HUMAN! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING, PROPOSING TO ME WHILE WE ARE STILL SCHOOLING?!"

"sebek what."

turns out you didn't know a thing about fae stuff and all that, he calmed down and accepted the ring

.. silver saw him staring at the wall blankly with tears running down his eyes before looking out the window, revealing you messing around with ace

he was a bit sulky once he found out you didn't know a thing about fae culture and actually thought you were proposing 😭🙏

keeps the ring on, you can see his flustered face whenever he walks around and lilia is teasing him about it

♡

• silver vanrouge

as usual, silver was asleep in the garden. typical

while bored out of your mind, you decided to make a flower ring for your sleepy boyfriend so you can surprise it with him once he wakes up.

with your fingers delicately working on the flower and stickig it onto the ring, you felt silver wrapping his arms around you

his head resting on your shoulders as he asked what you were doing while he was still half asleep, his eyes widened a bit once seeing the object in your hands as you showed it to him.

"[name], are you sure you want to marry me? im not an ideal husband, but i can try to provide and such. if we were to have kids then-"

"silver wtf are you on about."

oh. yeah, you didn't know anything about fae customs.

he was taught about fae culture from lilia lolz, he embarrassingly hid his face from you as you put the ring on his gloved hand.

he wears it daily and often asks lilia to cast a spell on it whenever he sees it withering.

♡

• lilia vanrouge

while you were out somewhere, probably at sams shop, you saw a pretty looking flower ring.

thinking of lilia and how he would rather enjoy the small gift you bought for him, you purchased the said items alongside a few more.

walking back to the campus, you could only be fnaf jumpscared by lilia who popped up in front of you, upside down, like a bat.

recovering from your surprise, you quickly boop him on his nose, makig him laugh before standing up like an actual human being.

sitting down on the ground, you showed him everything you purchased. from antiques to books.

once you showed him the flower ring, his smile turned into a straight line as he stared at you.

it wouldn't be long until he smiled sadly, knowing you didn't know a thing that you just did.

"are you trying to propose? haha, in fae culture, we usually propose through flower rings."

"oh.. then, consider this as my promise to marry you!"

.. just like meleanor.

he could only laugh as he puts it on, did the shine in his eyes get larger?

he wears it wherever he goes, he hopes the day of your actual proposal is soon.

♡

• malleus draconia

you were staying in your dorm before you heard the knock, like, the knock. your boyfriend is here to take you out on a nightly stroll!!

grabbing your jacket, knowing it's a rather chilly night, you noticed the flower ring your made yesterday for him. bringing it with you, you opened the doors and saw him patiently waiting.

holding your hand in his, the moon shining its light down on the pavement the both of you stepped on, the both of you either talked or kept on walking in comfortable silence.

the next moment you brought on a new topic, you pulled out the ring, making him stop taking a few steps forward as he stood there in shock.

it wouldnt be long until fireflies decorated the area near you two, giving it a melodramatic scene as you stood there, utterly confused.

"i accept, man of child."

"malleus what do you mean 😦"

turns out you knew nothing, not even a shred of fae culture.

the fireflies would be gone and it would start raining LMAOOO

he thought you were serious, well, you were; about the whole ring thing, but he didn't think that,,,, ☹

very well then, he shall be content with the trinkets he has now.

having the ring on him, he gets all giddy now whenever he looks at it and never takes it off.

[shorthaltsjester]

doing questionable things like rewatching a bard’s lament for “fun” and scanlan and vex you will always be famous. the fact that scanlan brings up that they’ve travelled across planes to fix vex’s daddy issues but then it’s vex’s daddy issues that ground her rebuttal to scanlan when she tells him to stop treating kaylie like an object. and god. vex’s “fuck him! fuck him for not saying anything sooner. and fuck us for not asking.” in the immediate aftermath, and then once she has time to put her walls back up, vex’s “my take-away from scanlan is that we all talk too much.”

the fact that vex was the one who made that comment that without his magic scanlan is just some guy but he’s also the some guy that vex spends the campaign looking up to (even if she does it through barbs and snark), the fact that when vex was fighting against saundor hearing things like “unproven ally” scanlan was all jokes until he realized how much vex believed what was being said to her. the fact that when scanlan comes back, it’s vex who literally sees through his disguise.

what do you mean scanlan was a deadbeat father who discovered a daughter that he did love but loved only as an object until vex called him out on it? what do you mean vex was a woman who struggled to forgive in part due to her crapshoot father and she was the first to forgive scanlan when he came back?

vex and scanlan also have such interesting interactions in terms of the balance of snark, silliness, and sincerity. it’s not uncommon from any characters of sam or laura’s since they are both silly little guys who also love drama and roasting each other especially when it comes to character rp, but as always it’s so dynamic when it’s the two of them bouncing off each other, especially when they’re doing so through scanlan and vex who are already bitchy characters (affectionate) with humour as a deflection method. but it’s a silly and deeply sincere moment when vex finally puts the witch hat scanlan gave her back on with his promise that he won’t run away from the final battle. it is one of my favourite laughable moments in c1 but it also reeks of sincerity when scanlan asks vex if she prefers planetar scanlan or normal scanlan and vex tells him he is fucking hot as a planetar, but she loves him like he was and he’s her favourite when he’s just himself.

like. they’re insane do you understand. the dawnfather asks vex to prove herself and scanlan turns her into a dragon to help her succeed, pelor asks vox machina what vex means to them and scanlan says she’s greedy and mean and the most perfect of them all. the knowing mistress asks scanlan to prove himself and vex escorts him on a broom he unlocked for her and then she picks an impossible lock for him, ioun tries to remind scanlan that his strength is the joy he provides to his friends and he makes a deflective quip that he’s really powerful and vex undercuts his deflection with a sincere assertion that he is. scanlan cast his last wish spell letting her see her brother on her wedding day. vex sent herself across the continent alone with her worry and grief while scanlan’s corpse lay awaiting resurrection to ensure that his daughter could be there to either bring him back or say goodbye.

they are the platonic chosen soulmates of all time to me. i make a post like this like once a year minimum and it’s because they Haunt me. both sam and laura said what if we made high charisma characters using their charisma as a shield and humour as a weapon and they saw through each other’s masks but they never explicitly talked about it to one another. good riddance to talks machina but i will never forget the episode post bard’s lament with laura and sam where sam revealed that vex was the only one who said anything that actually got through to scanlan and another episode where laura revealed that the reason vex was so angry and sad when scanlan left was that vex felt like her and scanlan had a unique bond where they were the only two who really saw one another’s masks for what they were. also laura providing the insight that while vex was actively working on being more forgiving, another reason she was so open and happy with scanlan when he came back was that vex didn’t want to scare him away again.

what am i supposed to do with all that? be normal about scanlan and vex? literally impossible

[archiveofvirtue]

CHERRY PIE ⸻ dean winchester

content / dean winchester x fem!reader, established relationship, pie addicted dean, flirting, intimate touching and kissing, slight fluff, mentions of alcohol, 2.4k words

summary / When joining Dean with a slice of cherry pie turns into something more extensive, unfolding a deeper connection than either one of you had imagined. — inspired by the song “cherry pie” by warrant

The Harvelle’s roadhouse was buzzing with life, a mix of laughter, music, and clinking glasses filling the air. The neon sign above the bar flickered, casting a reddish glow over the crowd as they danced and mingled. Dean sat in a corner booth, nibbling on a beer, his eyes focused on the pool table in the center of the room. He wasn't paying much attention to the game, though. His thoughts were elsewhere—far from the game.

They were on you; you could feel it.

You slid into the booth beside him, a mischievous glint in your eyes, your fingers grazing his arm as you placed a plate of food on the table. "Thought you might be hungry," you said, voice teasing as you pushed the plate toward him.

Dean glanced down at the slice of cherry pie, its filling red against the flaky crust. He chuckled, shaking his head. "You're gonna get me in trouble, bringing me this," he said, but the smile on his face gave away that he didn't mind at all.

You leaned closer, lips brushing against his ear as you whispered, "Maybe I like getting you into trouble."

Dean's grin widened, and he turned his head to catch your lips with his in a quick, heated kiss. You tasted sweet, like the cherries from the pie, and he felt a familiar spark of desire flare up inside him. You always had that effect on him—you were wild, unpredictable, and full of life, everything that made the chaos of his world feel a little more bearable.

"So," you said, pulling back just enough to look at him, eyes shining with amusement. "You gonna eat that, or do I have to feed it to you?"

Dean smirked, picking up the fork and slicing off a piece of the pie. "As much as l'd like that," he said, popping the bite into his mouth, "I think I can manage."

You watched him with a satisfied smile, your hand slipping under the table to rest on his thigh. You felt the warmth of his skin through the fabric, and as he leaned in for another taste of your lips, the sweetness of the pie and a slight hint of whiskey lingered between you. You knew you were getting under his skin just as much as he was getting under yours.

"Good?" You asked when you finally broke apart, voice breathy.

"Delicious," Dean replied, his eyes locked on yours. You knew he wasn't just talking about the pie.

Suddenly one of your favorite songs came on, pulsing through the bar, and you grabbed his hand, pulling him toward the dance floor before he could protest.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, body swaying to the music as you pressed yourself against him. Dean's hands settled on your hips, guiding your movements as you fell into a rhythm together.

The room seemed to blur around you, the other people and the noise fading into the background. All Dean could focus on was you—the way your body moved against his, the feel of your skin under his hands, the scent of your hair as it brushed against his cheek. You were intoxicating, and he was completely under your spell.

"You know," you said, lips close to his ear as you two danced, "I've always had a thing for bad boys."

Dean chuckled, his grip on you tightening. "Is that right?"

"Mhmm," you hummed, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Especially the ones who look at me the way you do."

Dean's heart skipped a beat, the words hitting him harder than they should have. You knew you'd struck a nerve by the way he was looking at you, making him feel something deeper than just the heat between you two.

You leaned in, capturing his lips in a slow, lingering kiss that told him exactly what you wanted. You had a way of getting under his skin, of making him feel things he wasn't sure he was ready to feel. But with you, it didn't seem so scary. It felt... right.

"Can't help it," he murmured, his voice rough against your skin. "You're just too damn irresistible."

Your smile was wicked as you pulled back just enough to look at him, eyes full of promise while the heat between you only grew hotter. "Then show me how much you mean it."

Dean didn't need to be told twice. He tightened his grip on your waist, spinning you around so that your back was pressed against his chest. His hands roamed over your body as you moved together, the heat inside you taking over.

The world outside your little bubble didn't matter anymore—there was only the music, the movement, and the undeniable chemistry between the two of you.

You leaned your head back against his shoulder, your breath coming in short, eager gasps as you let yourself get lost in the moment. When Dean's lips brushed against your neck, trailing down to your collarbone, you let out a soft moan, threading your fingers through his hair and pulling him closer.

You stayed like that for what felt like hours, lost in each other. And when the song came to an end, you were both breathless, bodies pressed close together as if you couldn't bear to be apart.

You looked up at him, eyes filled with a mix of desire and something deeper-something that made Dean's heart swell. You didn't say anything, you didn't need to. The way you looked at him, the way you held him close, told Dean everything he needed to know.

He leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Let's get out of here," he whispered.

You nodded, a soft smile playing on your lips. "Lead the way, Winchester."

Hand in hand, you stepped into the cool night air, making your way to the Impala. Dean held the door open for you, his touch lingering as you slid inside.

As he climbed into the driver's seat and started the engine, Dean couldn't help but steal a glance at you. You were leaning back in your seat, eyes closed and a contented smile on your face. You looked so peaceful, so beautiful, that it made his heart ache.

"Where to?" he asked, his voice soft.

You opened your eyes and looked at him, your smile widening. "Surprise me," you said, your tone playful to which he just nodded.

You grinned, as he put 'baby' in gear, pulling out onto the road. You had a feeling tonight was going to be one to remember..

As the car sped down the dark road, headlights cutting through the darkness, you reached over, brushing your fingers through his tousled hair. "You always know how to make a night interesting," you said with a playful smile, eyes sparkling in the dim light.

Dean glanced over at you, his green eyes piercing through you, your heart doing that familiar flip it always did when he looked at you like that. "You haven't seen anything yet," he replied, his voice laced with a teasing edge.

You drove in comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds being the rumble of the Impala's engine and the occasional rustle of wind through the open windows. Dean could feel you watching him, your gaze soft and thoughtful, and it sent a warm thrill through him. He'd never been one for settling down, but with you, everything felt different—like maybe, just maybe, he could finally stop running.

After about half an hour of driving, you came across a small, secluded lookout point just off the road. The view was stunning, with the moon casting a silvery glow over the landscape and the stars twinkling brightly above you.

Dean parked the car and turned off the engine, the sudden silence almost deafening. He looked over at you, who was already gazing out the window, your face illuminated by the soft light of the moon.

"Wow," you whispered, your breath fogging up the glass slightly as you leaned closer to the window. "It's beautiful."

Dean nodded, unable to take his eyes off you. "Yeah, it is."

You turned to him, catching the meaning behind his words, and your cheeks flushed slightly. "You've got a way with words, Winchester," you teased, though your voice was warm with affection.

Dean shrugged, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Just calling it like I see it."

You laughed softly, the sound sending a pleasant shiver down his spine. You opened the car door and stepped out, stretching your arms above your head as you breathed in the cool night air. Dean followed, walking around the car to stand beside you.

For a moment, you two just stood there, taking in the view and the peacefulness that surrounded you. The world felt a million miles away, and you were grateful for the rare moment of peacefulness.

You moved closer to Dean, wrapping your arms around his waist and resting your head against his chest. Dean automatically slid his arms around you, holding you close as you stood together under the blanket of stars.

"You know," you said after a few minutes, voice barely above a whisper, "I never thought I'd find something like this... someone like you."

You felt his heart skip a beat at your words, and he tightened his hold on you, resting his chin on top of your head. "I know the feeling," he murmured.

Looking up, you found something in his eyes that made you smile—a softness you’d barely seen Dean have.

"Let's stay here for a while," you suggested, your fingers tracing lazy patterns on his back. "Just you and me, no distractions."

Dean nodded, his thumb brushing lightly across your cheek. "Yeah," he agreed. "I'd like that."

You two leaned against the hood of the Impala, you nestled comfortably in his arms, and watched the stars twinkle above. The night was quiet, the only sounds being the occasional rustle of leaves in the breeze and the steady rhythm of your hearts.

After a while, you tilted your head up to look at him again, your eyes gleaming with that familiar mischievous glint. "So, about that pie," you began, your tone playful.

Dean raised an eyebrow, smirking down at you. "What about it?"

You bit your lip, pretending to think. "I don't know... I just figured a guy like you might have something better up his sleeve."

Dean chuckled, shaking his head in amusement. "You're never satisfied, are you?"

"Not when it comes to you," you replied, your voice dropping to a husky whisper.

Dean's smirk softened into something more tender as he cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your soft skin. "Good," he said, leaning in closer until your lips were just an inch apart. "Because I'm not planning on going anywhere."

Your breath hitched slightly, and you closed the distance between you two, your lips capturing his in a kiss that was slow and deep, filled with all the unspoken promises you'd been dancing around for so long. Dean kissed you back with equal need, pouring everything he had into it—every emotion, every unsaid word, every hope for a future he hadn't dared to dream about until now.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless, foreheads resting against each other as you tried to steady your racing hearts.

"I think I'm falling for you, Y/N," Dean admitted, his voice rough with the weight of the confession. "Hell, maybe I already have."

You looked up at him, eyes shining with a mix of surprise and comfort. You smiled, a soft, genuine smile that reached your eyes. "Good," you whispered, repeating his earlier words. "Because I'm already there."

Dean's breath caught in his throat at your words, and before he could say anything else, you pulled him back in for another kiss—this one slow and tender, a kiss that spoke of the future the two of you could have, if you were brave enough to take the risk.

As you stood there, wrapped up in each other under the endless sky, Dean realized that for the first time in a long time, he wasn't thinking about the next hunt. All he could think about was the woman in his arms and the life you could build together—one filled with moments like this, moments where the world outside didn't matter, and all that existed was the love between you two.

It wasn't something he'd ever expected to find, but now that he had it, he wasn't planning on letting it go. Not for anything.

feedback and requests are greatly appreciated !!

-> dean winchester masterlist!

tags: @nuemanfilms @pinkgic @angelicjackles @6thlisbongirl @s4wdvator @nxptvn @nourties @alluvthegurlz

[itneverendshere]

you said i have to trust more freely - r.c series (three)

requested here; (one); (two)

pairing: rafe x pogue!reader (the duff inspired) word count: 5.4k

You hadn’t planned for that kiss to happen the other day.

It was supposed to be all part of the game, of the plan.

You just wanted to learn things properly. Right? But you knew, you had wanted it, and worse, you had liked it.

God, what the hell were you doing?

He was Rafe Cameron. Cocky, rich, your nightmare with a reputation that should have sent you running in the opposite direction. And yet, here you were, feeling the ghost of his lips against yours, wondering what would’ve happened if he hadn’t pulled back. If you hadn’t let the spell break.

"Focus," you muttered to yourself, shaking your head like you could shake him off too. You had bigger things to worry about—like Nate.

Remember Nate? The whole point of this was to get him to notice you, to finally realize that you were more than just the girl he studied with. You weren’t supposed to be getting caught up with Rafe Cameron’s sudden vulnerability or, God forbid, catching feelings for him.

You groaned, running a hand through your hair as you turned down the street toward your apartment. But no matter how hard you tried to ignore it, the thought of Rafe stayed with you for hours, sneaking its way back in every time you thought you’d pushed it out for good.

What was it about him, anyway? He was hot, sure. But it wasn’t just that. It was the way he looked at you sometimes, like he was seeing something deeper. Like there was more to this than either of you were willing to admit. And maybe that was the problem. Maybe you were starting to want him to see more.

By the time you reached your door, you had spiraled enough to know you needed a distraction. So you did what any girl in your situation would do: you grabbed your phone and texted Harper back.

You: Movie night better include wine. Lots of wine.

Her reply came almost immediately.

Harper <3:  “Already taken care of, babe. See you soon.”

You smiled to yourself, feeling a little better. It was exactly what you needed. Maybe after a few glasses of wine and some cheesy rom-coms, you’d finally stop thinking about that stupid kiss.

As you closed the door behind you and flopped onto your bed, your phone buzzed again. Expecting it to be Harper, you lazily reached for it, but your heart nearly stopped when you saw Rafe’s name instead.

Rafe: got your notes ready for tomorrow? or should i just show up and charm my way through it?

You stared at the screen for a second, unsure whether to laugh or throw your phone across the room. Why did he always have to do this? Act like nothing had changed when everything felt different?

Not that you were any better.

Finally, you typed back.

You: “depends. can ur charm get you through an entire chapter on portuguese colonization?”

His reply came almost instantly. Like he’d been waiting for yours.

Rafe: “we both know my charm can get me through anything.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the stupid smile tugging at your lips.

You: “let’s not test that theory. see you tomorrow.”

You tossed your phone aside, willing yourself not to overthink the fact that just seeing his name pop up on your screen made your heart race.

You were going to get through this. Nate was your goal. This thing with Rafe was just a detour. A very distracting, very complicated detour that you’d handle... eventually.

But tonight? Tonight was for your girls, your movies, and drowning out the chaos in your head with as much wine as it took to stop thinking about blue eyes and stupid smirks.

Later that night, you found yourself sprawled out on Ava’s couch, surrounded by blankets and popcorn, watching some cheesy rom-com that Harper had picked out. The glow of the TV cast a soft light over the room, but your mind was still elsewhere. Even with your best friends beside you, laughing and making snide comments about the movie, your thoughts kept drifting back to him.

It wasn’t just the kiss—although that had definitely been messing with your head lately—it was everything. The way he’d been acting, the things he’d said, the stupid nickname that you couldn’t seem to shake. Harper and Ava had a point, but they didn’t know Rafe like you did. Not anymore, at least. You’d seen sides of him recently that no one else had, and while you weren’t exactly sure what to make of it, there was something there. Something more than just the cocky rich boy everyone saw.

You sighed, reaching for another handful of popcorn, but Harper, ever the perceptive one, caught the look on your face before you could hide it.

“You’ve been quiet,” she said, nudging your leg with her foot. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Yeah, you’ve barely roasted this movie,” Ava added, throwing a piece of popcorn at you. “That’s not like you.”

You didn't want to get into it, “Just tired, I guess. Long day.”

Harper wasn’t buying it, though. She turned the volume on the TV down and sat up, crossing her legs underneath her. “Okay, spill. This is about Rafe, isn’t it?”

You groaned, covering your face with a pillow. “Can we not talk about him ?”

“Nope,” Harper said, yanking the pillow away. “Not until you tell us what’s going on. I know a liar when I see one."

Busted.

“Did something happen?”

You hesitated, glancing between the two of them. They were your best friends, and you knew they only wanted what was best for you. But the whole thing with Rafe felt complicated, like more than just a stupid crush. Still, you couldn’t keep it all bottled up forever.

“Fine,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair. “There was... a kiss.”

Harper’s jaw practically dropped. “A kiss? With Rafe?”

“When did this happen?” Ava demanded, practically bouncing in her seat. “Why didn’t you tell us earlier?”

“I was scared!” You bit your lip, feeling the heat rise to your cheeks again as you thought back to that moment in the library, “He knew I never kissed anyone and offered.”

“Wait, what? Your first kiss was with Rafe freaking Cameron?”

Ava gasped, covering her mouth in shock. “He offered? What the hell does that even mean? Did he just, like, present his lips to you like some weirdo?”

You groaned, wishing you could shrink into the couch and disappear.

“It wasn’t like that, okay? We were talking, and it came up. I told him I hadn’t kissed anyone, and then he was all, ‘I can fix that,’ or something. It just... happened a few days later.”

“So, what was it like? Was it good? Did he use tongue? I need details, girl.”

Harper elbowed her. “Ava! Let her breathe, she’s clearly still processing.”

You felt your cheeks heat up even more as you fidgeted with a loose string on your sweater. “I don’t know. I mean, yeah, it was good, okay? Really good. But it’s Rafe, and now everything’s weird, and I don’t know what to do.”

Harper’s expression softened,  “Okay, I’m trying to wrap my head around this. You’ve hated Rafe for, like, ever, right? And now, all of a sudden, you’re kissing him? What about Nate?”

“I know!” you groaned again, throwing your head back against the couch.

Ava looked like she was about to explode. “So... do you like him? Because it sounds like you’re starting to like him.”

“No! Maybe? I don’t know.” You buried your face in your hands. “I wasn’t supposed to like him. It wasn’t part of the plan. But then he had to go and be all... different. Like, he’s still Rafe, but sometimes he’s—I don’t know, sweet? Ugh, that sounds ridiculous.”

Harper sighed, shaking her head slowly. “Babe, if you’re getting all messed up over a guy like Rafe, this could be a problem.”

“Tell me about it,” you muttered. You didn’t want to like Rafe. He was the last person you should be catching feelings for. 

“Guys like him? They’ll pull you in, mess with your head, and leave you confused as hell.”

“I know,” you said, hating how true that sounded. “But it’s not just that. There’s something else. Like, when we’re alone, he’s— I don’t know. He lets his guard down, and I see a side of him that I don’t think anyone else does. He's weirdly honest."

Harper raised an eyebrow. “You sure you’re not catching feelings?”

You let out a frustrated sigh, flopping back against the couch. “I don’t even know anymore. I thought this was just a stupid kiss, but now it feels like everything’s different. And it’s so dumb because I should be focused on Nate!"

Ava and Harper exchanged a glance, both of them looking concerned. Harper was the first to speak.

“Okay, maybe this is a sign you need to figure out what you really want. Do you want to keep chasing Nate, or... do you want to see where things go with Rafe?”

You blinked, the question hitting you harder than you expected. What did you want? Nate had always been the plan—nice, safe, uncomplicated Nate. 

It wasn’t just the kiss. It was how you couldn’t stop thinking about him. His stupid grin, the way he’d tease you but also get serious for like, two seconds, just long enough to make you question everything.

You sighed, pushing your hair out of your face, “This was a terrible mistake.”

Harper crossed her arms, studying you. “Okay, here’s what we’re going to do. Call him.”

“What?!” You sat up, heart racing. “No way. I can’t just call him out of nowhere.”

“Yes, you can,” Ava chimed in, nodding like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Here’s the test—if he picks up right away, it means he’s been thinking about you too. If he doesn’t? Then maybe he’s just playing games.”

You stared at them like they’d just suggested jumping off a cliff. “Are you guys serious? There’s no way I’m doing that. You're not serious."

Harper smirked, grabbing your phone off the table and holding it out to you. “Do it. Right now. Trust me, if he cares, he’ll pick up.”

What kind of fucked up science was that? Rafe? Liking you? It was ridiculous. There was no way. Not when he'd been with so many girls, kissed even more, and never gave you a second glance. You were just...there.

Your stomach twisted in knots. “What if he doesn’t answer? What if he thinks I’m weird for calling at night? What if I just— explode from embarrassment?”

Ava waved her hand dismissively. “If he doesn’t answer, then you know where you stand. But if he does... well, that’s another story. And I highly doubt you’ll explode. Just call him and see.”

You took a deep breath, staring at your phone like it was about to bite you. It felt reckless, terrifying even. But you were curious too—what would happen if you actually did it? Would he care? Would he answer?

“Fine,” you muttered, grabbing the phone from Harper and quickly finding Rafe’s name in your contacts before you could change your mind.

Ava grinned, leaning in. “Ooh, this is gonna be good.”

“I thought you hated him—"

“Call him!”

You hit call, holding your breath as the phone rang once, twice—

And then, to your absolute horror, it stopped. He picked up.

“Hey,” Rafe’s voice came through, “Everything okay?”

Your heart jumped into your throat.

You glanced at Harper and Ava, who were both staring at you like this was the most exciting thing to ever happen. You cleared your throat, trying to sound normal, like you hadn’t just spent the last ten minutes freaking out about calling him.

“Uh, yeah, everything’s fine,” you said, cringing at how awkward you sounded. “I just... wanted to see if you were ready for tomorrow’s study session.”

Lame. So, so lame.

Rafe chuckled softly. “You called me at night to ask about studying? I didn’t know I was that irresistible.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was pounding. “Don’t flatter yourself, Cameron.”

He laughed again, and you could practically hear the smirk in his voice. “Too late. Anyway, I’m ready for tomorrow. Was studying really the reason you called?”

You glanced at Harper and Ava, who were both nodding furiously, encouraging you to say something—anything that wasn’t study-related.

“Well... maybe not just that,” you admitted, feeling your cheeks heat up again.

There was a pause on the other end, and when he spoke again, his tone was softer, more serious. “I’m glad you called.”

Your heart skipped a beat. You weren’t sure what to say, so you just muttered, “Yeah, me too.”

There was another moment of silence, like you were both trying to figure out what to say next.

“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Rafe said, his voice a little lower, almost... warmer? “Night.”

“Night,” you replied, and then the call ended.

You dropped your phone onto the couch, staring at it like it had just turned into a bomb.

Harper squealed. “He picked up right away! And he was flirty! Oh my God, he likes you!”

Ava clapped her hands, bouncing on the couch. “I knew it! He’s totally into you. Nevermind what we said earlier. Rafe Cameron is into you. We were wrong. Scratch the whole 'he’s just messing with your head' thing. He’s definitely catching feelings.”

You scowled, “Where’s your backbone? Five minutes ago, you were all, ‘Rafe’s trouble, don’t fall for it,’ and now you’re practically shipping us?”

Harper shrugged, unapologetic. “Yeah, but that was before he picked up right away and sounded all soft. That’s different, babe.”

“Exactly!” Ava chimed in. “Nate who?”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t know. He’s... safe. And uncomplicated. Why am I even entertaining this idea of Rafe?”

Harper raised an eyebrow. “Because safe doesn’t make your heart race. And it sure as hell doesn’t make you stay up all night overthinking. If you were so into Nate, you wouldn’t be calling Rafe at night. Or letting him kiss you!”

You opened your mouth to argue, but nothing came out. They had a point, as annoying as it was. Nate might’ve been the goal, but Rafe was what had your head spinning. You groaned again, flopping back against the couch.

Sure, maybe he’d been acting a little off lately. Like, sometimes he’d actually ask you how your day was or show up when he knew you’d be around. You didn’t think much of it, though. That’s just how it was with guys like Rafe—he probably wanted something, or maybe he was just bored.

You huffed, feeling your cheeks heat up. “It’s just so stupid. He’s Rafe. He’s... ugh, he’s complicated, and I don’t even know if he’s serious, or if he’s just bored, or what. And now I’ve kissed him, and I can’t stop thinking about it, and—”

“And now you’re realizing that maybe Nate isn’t what you really want after all,” Harper finished.

You sighed, hugging a pillow to your chest. “What am I supposed to do now?”

He’d flirt, he’d flash that stupid grin, and then he’d move on like nothing ever happened. Why would you be different? 

“Easy. You figure out what you want. Not what Nate wants, not what Rafe wants. You. And until then, just... enjoy. No one said you had to decide everything right now.”

Harper nodded in agreement, giving your arm a reassuring squeeze.

“Yeah. Take it slow. And for tonight, let’s just not overthinking every little thing, okay?”

Yet, you thought about him all night. You’d seen the way he treated other girls. He’d throw them those lazy smiles, the ones that practically screamed I’ll forget your name by tomorrow, and it always seemed to work.

They all fell for it—why wouldn’t they? Rafe was good at getting what he wanted, and he never stuck around long enough for things to get messy. You? You were invisible up until recently. He only paid attention when he felt like pissing you off. Your friends had to be reading too much into things.

This was Rafe. The same Rafe who was impossible to figure out, who never took anything seriously—least of all you. There was no way he liked you. 

But the next day came way too fast, and you were paying for it. Hard.

You groaned as you dragged yourself into the library, sunglasses on like they were going to somehow shield you from the pounding headache.

Harper and Ava had insisted on one more glass of wine, which of course, turned into two. And now, you were here, praying Rafe wouldn’t notice that you felt like death.

As you slumped into the chair across from him, he immediately raised an eyebrow, “Rough night?”

You gave him a look, your head already throbbing too much for his sarcasm. “Don’t even start, Cameron.”

He leaned back in his chair, eyes twinkling with amusement as he took in your state. “Wow, I can smell the regret from here. You look like you partied with a bottle of tequila and lost.”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “It was wine, thank you very much. And yeah, it was a little too much.”

He chuckled softly, flipping open his notebook. “A little? You look like you just survived a war zone. Was the study session that boring to look forward to?”

“Ha ha, so funny,” you muttered, wincing as you reached for your bag. “I’m here, aren’t I?”

“Barely.” He tilted his head, clearly enjoying every second of it. “I’m impressed you made it at all. Should I have brought a bucket? You know, just in case?”

You glared at him from behind your sunglasses. “I hate you so much right now.”

Rafe just grinned, unfazed. “Trust me, it’s mutual. But seriously, you need water or something? You’re about two seconds away from face-planting on that table.”

You bit your lip, knowing he was right but not wanting to give him the satisfaction. Still, your mouth felt like a desert, and the thought of anything cold and hydrating sounded like heaven.

“Maybe… a coffee?”

“Have you eaten?”

“Huh? No?”

“You’re not drinking coffee before you eat.”

You squinted at him, thoroughly annoyed. “Rafe, I’m hungover, not five years old.”

He just raised an eyebrow, clearly not swayed.

“Hungover means your brain’s working even worse than normal, so yeah, I’m pulling the adult card here. You need food before coffee.”

You rolled your eyes, regretting it instantly as your head throbbed harder. “Fine. I’ll get food after the coffee.”

He shook his head, already getting up. “Nope. I’m grabbing you a bagel or something.”

“Rafe, seriously—” you started, but he was already walking away, not even bothering to let you finish.

You slumped back in your chair, groaning under your breath. As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. You hadn’t eaten anything since last night, and your stomach was twisting in a way that wasn’t just from the hangover. But it was so typical of him to boss you around, like he knew what was best for you. He seemed almost too serious about all this, like it wasn’t just about breakfast or caffeine. Was he actually… worried?              

He was being so over-the-top about something so simple. Maybe he noticed things you didn’t even realize were slipping—how little you’d been eating, how tired you always seemed. You didn’t want him to worry, to get so wrapped up in how you were doing. But the fact that he did… 

Rafe returned, dropping a bagel in front of you. “Eat. Then you can have your coffee.”

You blinked at the bagel, caught off guard. “You actually got me food?”

He gave you a look. “You really thought I wouldn’t? What kind of person do you think I am?”

“A pain in my ass?” you muttered, but there was no real bite to it. You unwrapped the bagel, taking a cautious bite, and, annoyingly, it actually helped. “Thanks, I guess.”

“You’re welcome. Now, once you finish that, we’ll get started on actual studying. You might wanna take those sunglasses off too. It’s not that bright in here.”

“Stop being so smug about it,” you grumbled, but you took another bite of the bagel, your headache easing just a little.

He leaned back in his chair, stretching out like he owned the place.

“Hey, if you’re gonna drink like that, you should at least have someone who can take care of you after.”

There was something about the way he said it that made your heart skip a beat. “Is this your way of saying you care?”

“Eat your bagel.”

You rolled your eyes, but there was no denying the flutter in your chest. Why was he always like this? One minute he was the biggest pain, and the next, he was sweet? You took another bite of the bagel, trying to ignore the way his comment made your stomach do a weird little flip.

Rafe just watched you, arms crossed, looking smug as ever. "I'm not saying anything," he teased, leaning forward slightly. "But you did call me last night."

You nearly choked on your bagel. "That was for studying!"

He raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth pulling into a grin. "Oh, right. You totally call guys at night to talk about history."

You threw a balled-up napkin at him, feeling your cheeks heat up again. "Don't start with me, Cameron. You texted me first!"

"Fair enough," He caught the napkin effortlessly, still grinning, like teasing you was the highlight of his day. He was holding his hands up in surrender, but there was no hiding the amusement in his eyes. "Don’t know if it’s the kiss or maybe you’re just starting to realize I'm not all bad."

You scoffed, trying to brush off how much that actually hit home.

"Please. You're still an entitled jerk, Rafe. One kiss doesn’t change that."

But the truth was, maybe it did change something. You hadn’t been able to stop thinking about him since. And now, sitting here with him being all unexpectedly considerate, it was getting harder to pretend like there wasn’t something going on.

“So it hasn’t been keeping you up at night?”

“Why would it? It was just a kiss. Happens all the time, right?”

His smirk widen, “So I didn’t get your panties in a twist?”

You were going to throw a book at his face.

"You’re so full of yourself," you muttered, trying to act unbothered, but your pulse quickened.

Rafe leaned in a little closer, that stupid smirk still plastered on his face. “I’m just saying, it seemed like more than ‘just a kiss’ with the way you keep getting flustered. You sure it didn’t mean anything?”

You narrowed your eyes, determined not to give him the satisfaction.

“What do you want me to say, Rafe? That I’m totally falling for you? That I can’t stop thinking about the kiss? Because that’s not happening.”

He chuckled softly, leaning back again, but something shifted in his expression. He was still teasing, but there was an edge of curiosity now, almost like he was testing the waters.

“Good to know. Guess I’ll just keep doing my thing then.”

“Your thing? What, being an annoying, arrogant jerk?” you shot back, though there was less bite in your tone than usual.

Rafe’s lips twitched, “I’d hate to think I’m keeping you up at night.”

Ugh. Why was he like this? Why was this working on you?

You rolled your eyes, trying to stay focused on the whole reason you were here in the first place: studying, Nate, anything but this. But the way Rafe was looking at you right now, like he could see through all the walls you put up... yeah, it was messing with your head again.

"Can we just study now?" you grumbled, flipping open your textbook, praying the conversation would shift before your cheeks got any redder. "I didn’t drag myself here to talk about your ridiculous fantasies."

His grin softened into something more genuine, and he shook his head, finally relenting. “Alright, alright. I’ll be good. Let’s get started before your brain melts from that hangover.”

But as you pulled out your notes, you couldn’t help but notice the way his gaze lingered just a little too long. And worse, you knew your heart was doing the same—stupid fluttering and all.

There was something about this back-and-forth with him that was starting to feel... different. And maybe, just maybe, that scared you more than you were willing to admit.

As the two of you dove into the study session, you tried—really tried—to focus on the material in front of you. But every time he leaned in a little closer or cracked a joke that made you roll your eyes, your mind wandered back to that kiss. To the way he looked at you when no one else was around. To the fact that, as much as you hated to admit it, Rafe Cameron was making you feel something you hadn’t expected.

“Do you remember that bonfire when we were sixteen?” he asked all of a sudden.

You raised an eyebrow, confused for a moment. “Which one? There were like, a million bonfires.”

“The one where you dumped your drink in my face.”

Your hand froze halfway to your mouth. Oh. That bonfire. It felt like a lifetime ago, but the memory came rushing back, clear as day.

“I can’t believe you remember that.”

Rafe chuckled, shaking his head. “Yeah, it’s not exactly something you forget. One minute I was talking to you, and the next, I was soaking wet with a face full of—what was it? Lemonade?”

“Spiked lemonade,” you corrected, biting your lip to keep from laughing. “You deserved it.”

“Deserved it?” he echoed, leaning forward, clearly enjoying this trip down memory lane. “I asked if you wanted to hang out by the water. How’s that deserving a drink to the face?”

You rolled your eyes, feeling the old annoyance bubble up again. “You asked me to hang out after you and your friends had spent the whole night making fun of me."

He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Okay, okay, maybe we were a little rough back then. But I swear, I wasn’t trying to be a dick that night.”

“You were always a dick,” you muttered, but there was no real heat behind your words. Sixteen-year-old you had despised him and his cocky attitude. 

He smirked, “You were so pissed off. Your face was all red, and you were shaking with anger, like you couldn’t believe I’d even dared to speak to you.”

“You had it coming.”

“I probably did,” he agreed, a softer look crossing his face. “But I remember thinking, even back then, you were different. You didn’t take shit from anyone.”

You blinked, taken aback by the sincerity in his voice. “Wait, are you actually complimenting me right now? What is happening?”

Rafe just grinned, leaning back again, but his eyes stayed locked on yours. “I’m just saying, you’ve always had more fight in you.”

Your stomach did that weird little flip again, and you quickly looked away, focusing on the crumbs left on the table. “Well, maybe if you hadn’t been such an ass, I wouldn’t have had to.”

“I think that’s why I liked messing with you so much.” His voice was quieter now, more thoughtful. “You always pushed back.”

You bit your lip, not sure how to respond to that. The Rafe you remembered from back then was all arrogance and teasing, but this... this was different. It was like he was admitting that he’d seen you in a way no one else had back then. 

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approaching cut your conversation short. You glanced up, thinking it might just be another student passing by, but your heart nearly stopped when you saw Nate walking toward you and Rafe.

Rafe’s smirk faded instantly when he spotted him approaching.

“Hey,” Nate greeted with a casual smile, though his eyes flicked quickly between you and Rafe, “Didn’t know you guys studied here too.”

You cleared your throat, trying to sound normal even though your brain was racing. “Yeah, uh, just catching up on some work.”

Nate’s smile wavered slightly as his gaze lingered on Rafe, then back to you. “Mind if I join? I was just gonna find a spot to get some work done, but...” His voice trailed off, leaving the question hanging in the air.

For a second, you were torn. Nate was here, right in front of you—the guy you’d been chasing for months, the one who was supposed to be the plan. But Rafe was sitting across from you.

He leaned back further in his chair, crossing his arms with that signature smirk creeping back onto his face. “Yeah, sure, the more, the merrier.”

You shot him a look, silently pleading with him not to make this worse, but he just raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying the situation.

Nate pulled out a chair, setting his bag down, “What’re you working on?” he asked, glancing between you and Rafe.

Before you could answer, Rafe spoke up, again, “Just a little review. Nothing too complicated, right?” His eyes flicked to you, daring you to answer.

You swallowed hard, feeling both their gazes on you. “Yeah, just going over some notes. We’re almost done, actually.”

Nate’s eyes lingered on Rafe for a beat longer than necessary, like he was sizing him up. “Right. Cool. I guess I’ll just... grab a spot over there.” 

“You do that.”

“Rafe.” you grumbled under your breath, kicking him under the table.

"You wanna grab lunch after? I was gonna head to that new sandwich place, and figured you might want to come."

For a split second, you hesitated. Lunch with Nate was the safe, easy option—exactly what you’d been trying to hold onto. But the way Rafe was watching you now... Nate’s invitation wasn’t just about lunch. It was a claim, a reminder that he was the one you were supposed to be into.

"I, um—” you started, but the words were stuck in your throat.

You’d just spent the last half hour trying to convince yourself that Rafe didn’t matter. That this whole thing with him wasn’t a big deal. But now, with Nate standing right here, it felt like your brain was short-circuiting.

Rafe stood up suddenly, his chair scraping against the floor. "Well, looks like you’ve got plans," he said, his voice flat. He glanced at you, before grabbing his notebook. "Catch you later, I guess."

Before you could say anything, he walked away, his footsteps heavy as he left the library. You stared after him, your heart doing this weird thing where it felt like it was both racing and sinking at the same time.

Nate raised an eyebrow, watching Rafe go. "That guy’s... intense," he said, his tone light, but you could tell he was fishing for something.

You forced a smile, "Yeah, that’s Rafe for you."

But even as you said it, your mind wasn’t on Nate. It was still stuck on Rafe—on the way he’d looked at you before he left, like maybe he’d been hoping you wouldn’t just go along with Nate’s plan. Like maybe he’d wanted you to choose something different.

"So, lunch?" Nate asked again, his smile back in place, but it didn’t feel the same. Not anymore.

You swallowed hard, nodding automatically. “Sure, lunch sounds good.”

But as you followed him out of the library, you couldn’t ignore the feeling that you’d just walked away from something important. 

[okkotsuus]

"YOU'RE AS BEAUTIFUL AS THE DAY I LOST YOU" (katsuki b.) !

features: katsuki bakugo

contents: fantasy au. angst. hurt/comfort/more hurt. mutual pining. barabrian!katsuki. fem!reader. childhood friends to lovers to strangers to lovers again. kidnapping. grief. crying. implied panic attack. major character death. no beta we die like men. 3.9k

notes: i've been yearning desperately to make bakugo say stoick's famous line from httyd2 (my second favorite movie)... if there's interest i'm considering continuing this into the canon verse with it being these two 'reincarnated'.

tagging: @saexy (for enabling and encouraging me in killing off characters) & @meristryker (for enabling me in the gc like a real one)

never in all his life did the great katsuki bakugo think that he would ever love someone enough that he could die. watching the loving smiles of his parents, the gentle caress of his father's hand to soothe his mother's unbridled anger: it made his stomach churn.

yet, at the tender age of seven, while on a trip to a nearby village to discuss the war shifting on the horizon, he finds himself absolutely smitten by their chieftain's daughter. wide e/c eyes peeking out from behind her mother's leg, hands clutching onto the hem of the long skirt.

katsuki finds himself enamoured in that instance, seeing sweet you, looking at the boy with such curious eyes. he stomps over to you: temper even fiery in his youth. his hand grabs onto yours as he hauls you out from behind the safety of your mother.

under the dim candlelight of the meeting room, flickering flames cast dancing rays across your skin. his chubby little face is scrunched into a scowl, tugging you out of the room and into the courtyard with a tenderness that betrayed his expression.

"i'm katsuki and you better not forget it!" his pitchy voice calls, still dragging you behind him. he looks over his shoulder, soft red eyes narrowed in what was an attempt to be intimidating.

but when he sees the relaxing of your eyelids, falling slightly in contentment, with a warm smile that rivals any feeling of victory: the mask of indifference slips in a blink of an eye. red dusts over the slops of his face, baby-fat painted the same carnelian as his eyes. his small hand grips tighter onto yours, as if he never would let you go.

your chubby little face stretches as your smile widens into a toothy grin, eyes crinkling at the corners. "got it, katsuki, i'm y/n!" he swears your voice is just like the lullaby his mother would hum while rocking him to sleep, bringing a rush of warmth through his chest.

that day, katsuki bakugou falls terribly in love with y/n l/n.

the two of you are deemed inseparable, hands always connecting like opposing poles of a magnet. pinkies intertwined stronger than any woven cloth. it's as pure and innocent as it can be.

if one were to see y/n, then it was irrevocably certain that katsuki was a few steps away. it sends rumors spiralling through the lands that there will be a union between the bakugo barbaricum and l/n dynasty. you're only eight when there's an attempt made for your hand.

the thought of two families as powerful as you and katsuki's joining was a fearful thing to many. it spelled doom for many weaker civilizations, those who had dug their own graves with their actions.

your family, blessed be you to have been born to loving parents in a world such as this, easily rejects the many proposals. the l/n dynasty is in a state of power where they are not forced to fend for their village: allowing you this freedom.

running through the streets of his stronghold, chasing each other for the sake of some game that was the farthest thing from either of your minds. katsuki feels whole when you are at his side. the world doesn't seem so ugly, he doesn't feel so angry, everything sings the hymns of the heavens.

he can't pull his ruby eyes off of your form by the age of fifteen. the katsuki you had known, baby-faced with a slight stutter, has began to fill out into a man. his shoulders broaden and begin to carry thick cords of muscle. the chubbiness of his cheeks begins to give rise to sharper angles. his whiny voice is pushed aside by a more gravelly tone. he shoots up like a sprout, hunching over slightly in faces that used to fit him so easily.

but he isn't the only one who is growing into his frame. your shoulders soften at the corners, collarbones visible with every slight movement. your baby fat begins to settle and collect on your hips, rounding them. those toothy grins of yours become framed by pretty lips, always looking soft as a pillow. clothes that used to drape over your like a sheet now feel tighter in certain places, stretching over curves that popped up overnight.

the two of you don't know what to do with yourselves, stolen looks when the other isn't looking. you still hook pinkies, but the touch sends flares of heat running up the back of your neck. it's like you were just meeting each other for the first time all over again.

katsuki feels like a damn sap with the way his heart thunders under his skin: threatening to burst out. he's too taken to notice the heat that was rising to your face whenever he was around, the way your hands nervously would grip onto the swaying fabric of your skirt. too blind to see that you were just as infatuated with him as he was with you.

hurried words, lingering touches, sneaking glances, the two of you had every hint of love right in front of your faces. yet, there's a hesitance that lingers in the back of young minds: afraid that falling in love would end up with no one catching them.

unsurprisingly, katsuki is the one who jumps first. it's a quiet night, the moon is high in the sky. his breath puffs out in front of him like smoke, winter beginning to show herself once more.

you looked too beautiful under the soft azure glow that the celestial sky casts upon you, he simply couldn't bear another moment without you known how much his very soul ached for you.

on the eve of his sixteenth birthday he whispers the words like a prayer, voice softened and gentle for once in his life. "y/n... you plague my every waking thought, i cannot let my heart beat any longer without it being yours."

e/c eyes widen as your head snaps to him, lips parting in shock. katsuki beats you to it, rough palms (once baby-soft) cupping your cheek with a tenderness he was unaware he possessed.

the stars illuminate the sunkissed slopes of his cheekbones, showing the fine lashes that fan out over his eyes. katsuki was ethereal, in every sense of the word, it catches your breath in a hitch. your mind stumbles through everything you could say right now, desperately trying to find the perfect response.

but when the pads of his thumbs drag over the apples of your cheeks, leaving a buzz in the wake of his touch, all rational thought leaves as you allow words to flow like a stream. "i have loved you longer than i have known you, katsuki." your voice is hushed, only filling the small space between the two of you: like a secret that only he and you would ever know.

it sends a trill up your spine when his eyes visibly soften, his face had been growing more and more sharp by the day but only when he was with you did the curve of his cheeks soften. he turns back into a boy around you, as you turn back into a girl when held so gently between his hands.

katsuki surges forwards, nose clumsily knocking against yours, teeth colliding with your own. he's inexperienced, never having kissed a girl, much less even though of kissing anyone but you. you both are a mess, giggling softly through messy pecks smearing over each other's faces. it feels like you're both those giddy kids once more, chasing the other through the cobbled streets of your village. he makes your heart sing.

it was even harder to be apart from him now, hands fully clasped together as you walk through the streets of either of your hometowns. yet, no one is surprised. neither of your parents nor his even bat an eye when you announce the courtship at a family dinner.

love is as natural as breathing for you and katsuki. inherently you have always known exactly what the other needs. he knows just how much you like the wildflowers that grow en-route between your homes. you know just how much he likes when you rise on your tiptoes and press a kiss against the corner of his lips.

it's young and dumb, a rush of big emotions and smiles that stretch your cheeks so far they ache. once you both are eighteen, katsuki turns the courtship into a betrothal. an elegant gold ring, with a garnet slotted right in the center, it sits pretty on your ring finger. his band is thicker, small e/c gemstones scattered along the surface. when in battle he loops it through a chain around his neck: pressing a kiss to the ring before charging forwards.

the world has known y/n l/n and katsuki bakugo have been in love for nearly twelve years, official for three, and betrothed for one. the bakugo barbaricum and the l/n dynasty have began making their plans to unify upon the wedding. it sparks a wave of unease in the badlands.

all it takes is an emissary sent from the dark forest for your world to crumble into shambles. a demon who seems to be the land's scourge reincarnated, hand that turn all to ash, pillages your beloved village. he comes in tow with a mimic and a fire mage. destruction rains as you are brought to the center as their singular demand is you.

your eyes lock with the demon's red eyes, a color that had made you feel so safe until now. the hair on the nape of your neck stands pin-straight as his hand extended towards you: palm up.

a flurry of emotions rush through you like a burst dam, memories of katsuki at the forefront. you want to be selfish, to damn him and his band of criminals to hell, to fight back despite the gravity of the situation. but he is bringing terror upon the people you swore to protect with your life.

so, you step forwards, soft hand sliding into his own. never had a rough palm felt like daggers against your skin, never had you so violently despised the way carmine shines in the light of blue flames.

to save your people, your family, the home you have known your entire life: you go. swept away in black mist. the last thing you see of that place is the bakugo horde rushing towards the gates, your eyes lock with katsuki's before the void claims you.

katsuki lets out a guttural scream as her charges head first into the miasma, falling onto the ground as the last wisp flows just through his fingers. his fist slams against the ground, hands gasping at the dirt you had just been on. he allows himself to cry in front of someone other than you, a wail echoing through the ruins of your village.

that day, you disappear off the face of the realm. no matter how many search parties are sent into the dark forests in the badlands, they all return empty-handed (if they return at all). katsuki keep his ring around his neck, so it beats against his bare chest with every movement: like a reminder of how it felt when his heart actually beat .

scars wind around his arms, around his biceps, over his forearms, across his shoulders. his face is hardened, permanent frown on the lips you used to kiss so tenderly. he's angrier than ever, fuse short as his attention span.

he is a shell of the man he had been, going through the motions of survival but never truly being alive.

this persists for a grueling two years. for seven-hundred and thirty days. for seventeen-thousand five-hundred twenty hours. he is separated from the only person that has ever felt like home, the woman he has loved longer than he knew how to read.

he masks it behind his ego, boisterous laugh to hide the ringing in is ears that hadn't been able to stop. he's more violent the field, less forgiving when in training with kirishima. the explosions that thunder from his palms produce a blackened smoke that lingers and settles in his lungs like a fog.

yearning hits him late at night when he lays alone in bed, a bed that you had once shared with him. silent tears pour, running down the sides of katsuki's face as he stares blankly up at the ceiling. his breath feels short as his chest heaves to get air in. the man's mind is clouded with the look on your face as those bastards took you. he can still remember every single little twitch of your expression when you finally saw him. he remembers the way your breath hitched. he remembers the tears that began to pool at the corners of your eyes.

but, most of all, he remembers not seeing you: for what feels like the first time in his life.

katsuki cannot recall when he finally fell asleep, or if he ever even truly did. his dreams are plagued with you anyways, so the line between memory and dream is thin as a tightrope.

he has a dream that he makes it in time to save you and wakes up alone. that one sticks with him for months, hanging over him like a shadow. if he was only a minute sooner, a stride faster, reacted quicker. maybe you would be in his arms right now instead of gods know where.

relief comes in a rumor that circles in a tavern that a woman with h/c hair and e/c eyes was spotted wondering through the dark forest. katsuki doesn't hesitate, he makes no effort to send out a scout party. he rides at dawn, horse hooves beating against the grass in a frenzied gallop as he makes his way into the badlands.

none of the rouges or thieves hope to stand a chance with him, the smart ones don't even try. he vanquishes the less fortunate with a single swing of his cutlass. the man doesn't stop to rest, only to water his horse and allow it to graze while he catches a brief nap.

his horse comes to a stop right outside the dark forests, whinnying in rejection to enter. katsuki doesn't blame the poor thing, this was the kind of place people went with no intention to come back from. he dismounts, not tying his horse off: it would return with a whistle.

the forest is eerie, yawning opening that is reminiscent of a gaping mouth. but he didn't fear. because at this point, he'd rather not come back if it meant he wasn't coming back with you.

footfalls crunching against leaves and sticks echo through the dim lit treeline. the canopy is so thick that it completely obscures the bright sunlight katsuki has just been under: the perfect place for criminals to hide. the trees creak and groan, as if the land itself was breathing and living.

only when he hears the snap of a twig does he stop, his head snaps around, a flash of h/c darting just out of the corner of his visions. the man's heart stops as he stumbles to pursue, not minding the whipping of low handing branches against his face. not when he could see you darting through the underbrush.

he finally sees you in the full when you run into a path dead-ended by brambles. it's really you. y/n, his y/n.

but you look over your shoulder with such a forlorn look it makes his heart ache in his chest. you don't believe that it's really him. "toga, this isn't funny, it's cruel to keep making me see him." your voice is rougher than he remembered, as if your throat had been worn. it makes his fists clench at his sides.

the mimic had been wearing his face, just to torment you?

just the thought of it sends a rage burning deep in his chest. he has no way of knowing what you have been through. katsuki couldn't protect you: like he always feared he would fail to do.

his steps toward you are hesitant, ruby red eyes softening the second he sees your face. his heart is pounding out of his ribs, it makes him wonder if you can hear it.

a rough hand reaches up to roughly tug the chain that held his engagement band around his neck, the links snapping and clattering to the ground. he doesn't even look at it. with a gentleness, he holds out the ring to you.

your eyes dart back between the metal and him, hands tentatively reaching for it. the thundering race of your heartbeat is all you can hear. your hands, once soft, now rough as his bush against his own as you roll the ring between your fingers.

katsuki's heart breaks when he feels the callouses on your fingertips. he lowers slowly to his knees in front of you, tears fighting their way to prick at the corners of his eyes. he looks up at you like you are the light in the world, a goddess before him. in a way, you are, because he had prayed to every deity to hold you again, even if it was only once more.

"you're as beautiful as the day i lost you." his words come out in a rasp. thick emotion coursing through his chest; nearly choking him.

he watched your eyes widen, tears pooling as you too crash onto the ground. your arms wrap tight around his neck, face pressed side-by-side with his own. strong arms encircle your waist in an instant, pressing you closer with an urgency.

"katsuki... oh gods, katsuki..." you don't even know what to say, just repeating his name like a desperate prayer. your cheeks are wet and your chest aches but you don't care, because he's finally here.

lips clash desperately, just as messy as the kiss the two of you first shared five years ago. it's a mess of teeth and tongue as your fingers tangle into ash-blonde hair, his hands finding the back of your head and your hip. he sucks the breath out of you, as if wanting to absorb you into his being.

and you'd let him if he asked.

carmine eyes search for e/c, his hands cupping your cheeks as he pulls back to study your face. it's like you never left. your eyes are tired, there's some grime on your cheeks, a soft scar above your eyebrow that you've had since you were thirteen.

the softest smile spreads on his face, forehead pressing against yours as his lashes flutter shut. katsuki lets out a deep sigh, one he had been holding for nearly two years now.

warmth blooms in your chest as everything finally settles back into place like puzzle pieces. your hearts beat in sync, you draw breath when he exhales, everything is right in the world once more.

but your heart skips a beat as your eyes open to see that cursed white hair with horns peeking out from below it. tomura shigaraki. a wicked smirk on his lips as he's leaned back against a tree, simply watching.

your hands grip tighter onto the back of the shawl draping over katsuki's shoulders, breathing turning shaky and ragged.

no. no. no. they couldn't take this from you. not again. not after how hard you fought to escape the league just at the fleeting chance of being able to see the man you love. this had to be some cruel joke, right? a trick of the light, maybe...

even you aren't naive enough to believe that, your eyes close as you lean against katsuki, head burying into the crook of his neck. your fiddle with his hands to slip the ring back onto it's rightful place on his third finger. a part of you had already resigned to being ripped away again.

after two years with the demon, you learned firsthand what shigaraki was capable of. and you were not going to allow katsuki to find it out as well.

your legs shook as you stood, a weak smile given at your lover's confused look. "i'll always love you, 'suki, you know that." his eyes widen as his head nods, brows furrowing.

"then let me keep you safe."

carnelian irises widen in realization as his head turns to look back, growl ripping from his chest at the sight of the scourge of the realm's protege. his hands immediately reach for the hilt of his sword, explosions popping in his palms.

but you're already beginning to approach. katsuki seizes you in one arm, hauling you away like the day you first met. he runs through the forest with you: knowing that shigaraki would not allow the both of you to leave.

he bounds over winding tree roots, holding you steady and tight against his chest. the impending sense of doom begins to crawl up the back of his neck, but he needs you to be safe.

with you in his arm, he stumbles out of the forest, shrill whistle leaving his lips as the sound of hooves grows closer. with ease he sets you up on the saddle, but he does not join. you realize immediately what is about to happen. "katsuki-"

"no. it's my turn to keep you safe, y/n. i've always loved you, and i always will. in every life i will find you, and in every life, i will protect you." his words bring tears to your eyes as you desperately stake your head, sobs bubbling past your lips.

shigaraki creeps out of the forest and he delivers a harsh smack to the horse's haunches, sending it galloping away. within a second later a hand is reaching through katsuki's chest, mocking laugh against his ear.

"how heroic. i'll make sure you die slow, barbarian."

never in all his life did the great katsuki bakugo think that he would ever love someone enough that he could die.

that was until he lay on the edge of the forest floor, lifeblood leaking from the gaping hole in the center of the chest. but he wasn't anguished: because he died for you, the only person who he would ever love.

okkotsuus 24

[hellsslibrary]

Hellooooo!! i just saw your post asking for requests and stuff, so uh

here i aaaaam :3

i was wondering if you can do sub! lucifer or barbatos :p

you can do like literally whatever but i am STARVED for sub composed men that eventually are not-so-composed (i wanna see grown men cry)

"Shh... Don't think that water will save us from others."

#a.n. : I'M SO FERAL ABOUT THIS ONE SHOWER CARD OMG.... So shower sex with Luci where you drive him crazy lol.

!!Warnings: Top!Dom!Male!Reader, Sub!Bottom!Lucifer, fingering, finger sucking, shower sex obviously, praise, teasing, a little crying, overstimulation (this is not mentioned but implied), no penetration, Reader is MC, this all take place after the events of the card with skateboards, open final.

The sound of groans and slight squelching sounds was heard in the bathroom. But everything is easily hidden from others outside this room by the sounds of water and a spell cast on the walls.

Your fingers have been moving inside Lucifer for God knows how long, and you made no attempt to stop. Not that Lucifer minded; the stamina of demons is much higher than that of humans, but damn, this was getting too good.

How many times did he cum? He doesn’t remember anymore, and you didn’t count either. Just the fact that you finally managed to convince him to take a break after he worked so wonderfully on creating the best skateboard is already a miracle. But Lucifer himself understood that he deserved it... And how could he disagree when you were so sensitive to making sure he took breaks while working earlier?

"M-MC...Are you ever going to stop?" He asks, still being able to somehow spit out a complete sentence without almost stumbling over the letters.

"Mmm... No, I guess. You're not even at your limit yet, why should I stop?" A rhetorical question comes from your lips, which makes Lucifer’s legs tremble with excitement.

He is clearly not at the limit of his strength, far from it. But you will spend a very long time here if you want to bring him to this line, which is what you actually wanted. You just wanted him to break, in the nicest sense of the word.

Your fingers slid so perfectly inside his already soaking wet walls, each time pressing on a tiny spot that made him moan with pleasure. His dick was constantly rubbing against the shower wall, smearing his cum from several orgasms all over the wall. Lucifer’s palms lay lazily on the wall, and he rested his forehead on them to hide his red little face, which of course you didn’t want, but you didn’t really mind.

"Are you already brought to a complete state of bliss, if you understand what I'm hinting at, Luci?" The only answer to your question was a shake of the head.

But little did you know that it was a lie.

Lucifer felt like he was ready to dissolve, turn into a puddle from the movement of your fingers in him. He felt his entire being being torn apart in the most pleasant sense of the word. He felt like his whole brain was ceasing to function, because he had not been aware of it for a long time.

He's not even sure he can control his own body. A rare moment of vulnerability for him.

Lucifer realizes that his mask will soon crack. It will break like a crack in glass that will break it sooner or later. His self-control will burst.

Or rather, it has already done it.

“Are you crying, precious? Very good, relax, no one will hurt you here...” You whisper when you see tears running down the part of his downward-leaning face that you can see.

He groans when he realizes your fingers are playing with his tongue, making him whine. Such a humiliating sound for him, the Avatar of Pride himself. He shouldn't make sounds like that, but honestly? Fuck it all.

His head leans back, resting on your shoulder. His back collides with your torso. His hips try to match the movement and rhythm of your fingers, moving with them. And his mouth sucks your fingers, as if his life depended on it... Although he will obviously remember this for a long time later.

“Come on, let go,” You whisper in his ear, kissing his cheek, feeling the salty taste of his tears and looking down, slightly surprised that he came at that very second, but absolutely satisfied.

Lucifer hums around your fingers in mock displeasure when you don't slow down your movements even for a moment. He understands that he will regret this.

But it feels so fucking good.

“MC... You... will break me...” He whispers, muffled by your fingers, barely able to form a simple sentence as he feels your fingers deliberately aiming specifically for his prostate.

“Hush, baby,” You coo, he wants to drown in your voice, he realizes that he can’t even hear the sound of water. "Just relax, I won't eat you, you're so fucking good."

He nods. The movement is convulsive, clearly not smooth, and so unusual for Lucifer. You just smirk at this, kissing his neck, making him whimper, wiping away his tears.

After all... Maybe he won't regret this experience as much as he thought.

[the-griffons-saddlebag]

⚔️ 𝗡𝗲𝘄 𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗺! Deathmetal Axe
Weapon (greataxe), very rare (requires attunement) ___ This adamantine axe is covered in narrow cracks, which periodically erupt with harmless, magical flame. Along its haft are four strings: plucking a string creates a deep, bone-rattling resonance from the axe. If you’re proficient with lutes, you are proficient with the “deathmetal axe”, and you can play it as if it were a lute. You gain a +2 bonus to attack and damage rolls made with this magic weapon, as well as on any Charisma (Performance) check you make with it. Whenever the axe hits an object, the hit is a critical hit. 𝘾𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙜𝙚𝙨. The axe has 7 charges for the following properties. It regains 1d6 + 1 expended charges daily at dawn. If you take 10 or more lightning damage and then use one of the axe’s properties on your next turn, the number of charges required by the property is reduced by 1. 𝙎𝙥𝙚𝙡𝙡𝙨. While holding the axe, you can use an action to expend 2 of its charges to cast either the “shatter” or “thunderwave” (2nd-level version) spell from it (save DC 16). 𝙏𝙝𝙪𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙤𝙪𝙨 𝙋𝙚𝙧𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙘𝙚. Whenever you take the Attack action with this weapon, you can expend 1 of its charges to replace one of your attacks with a special performance. When you do, make a DC 16 Charisma (Performance) check. On a success, you create an instantaneous wave of sound, which affects creatures within 10 feet of you; friendly creatures within the wave immediately gain 2d6 + 2 temporary hit points, and hostile creatures must succeed on a DC 16 Constitution saving throw or take 2d6 + 2 thunder damage. When you roll a 20 on the Charisma (Performance) check, the radius of your wave increases to 30 feet, and the number of temporary hit points gained and thunder damage dealt is doubled. A creature is immune to these effects if it can’t hear the performance. The wave then fades. ___ ✨ Patrons get huge perks! Access this and hundreds of other item cards, art files, and compendium entries when you support The Griffon's Saddlebag on Patreon for less than $10 a month!

[villainscharm]

the corrupted knight | gwayne h. x f!reader

MASTERLIST

a/n : IM FINALLY FINISHING ONE GWAYNE FANFICTION THANK GOD

rating : explicit. mdni !!

words count : 1.9k

contents : smut. dark!gwayne. fingering. corrupted kink. manipulation. age-gap. gwayne is obsessed with you. reader is a riverland lady. no physical description.

Gwayne Hightower was corrupted by the existence of you.

You, a daughter of a Riverlord, who had caught the attention of the Hightower knight unknowingly. Your father served his duty to the King at court, devoted and dutiful.

The Hand’s son had seen you before in the godswood of the Red Keep and in the Great Sept from time to time. You were pretty, in your house color gowns and the lovely hairstyle you usually wore. There was something about you, your innocence and preciousness that provoked him into darkness.

You were obviously aware of who Gwayne was, but shared little interactions with him before. He was handsome, older. A knight from Oldtown and a Gold-cloak too, it would be hard not to notice his existence. Not to mention who his father and sister were as well.

Up until the time when you accidentally bumped—ran into him in the hallway. The way you said his name rang through his brain like a spell-cast.

‘Ser Gwayne! My apologies, I did not see you.

You had apologized quickly, before rushing off to see your Septa, as you later informed him during the second encounter. Where you thought it was all purely a coincidence, except it wasn’t. Because it was Gwayne's plan all along.

Though, it wasn’t entirely his scheme, but his father’s as well. Otto Hightower was anything but a fool, there were no days that went by that a cunning plot wasn’t on his mind. He had directed his son before, alerting him of who your father was and what good it would be to gain him to their side.

Your house was a strong ally of Princess Rhaenyra, the heir, and his support for her claim has never been quivering. With you as your father’s only daughter, it would not be easy for him to accept an upright offer of marriage in any way to anyone. But Gwayne Hightower determined to change that, he would not rest until he made you his lady wife. No matter if it was for an alliance or the good of the realm, you will be his.

He knew your father had a failed journey in knighthood, therefore his own experience and reputation would give him the benefit of archive recognition from your father, which he did successfully. Gwayne would make up a story about his unappreciated hard work from his own father, how the Hand wasn't pleased with his eldest son choosing a path in knighthood instead of achieving something much higher.

And for you; a little suggestive smile and compliments were already enough to leave you hot and flushed. Gwayne enjoyed that a lot, he loved making you red with his words and gestures. He loved it when he asked you something and you bit your lips in consideration, and the sight made him want to devour your lips for the entire world to see.

Every consuming thought Gwayne had about you was filled with sinful things. He was a boy from Oldtown, born and raised by the Faith of the Seven. He should have grown into an honorary gentleman, not a depraved man waiting to corrupt your very soul. Because of your innocence, sometimes it became difficult for the Hand’s son to lure you into darkness. He wasn’t sure if it was a challenge or a punishment. Either way, Gwayne aimed to break it.

Everytime Gwayne Hightower was in your presence, he felt the Gods judging him. Everytime he stroked his own cock to the thought of you spreading your legs wide only for him, he felt the Gods cursing him—banishing him to the seven hells.

Corrupted. Sinful. Unforgivable.

The chivalrous knight, an honorable man. The son of the Hand of the King and the brother of the Queen of the seven kingdoms.

Gwayne Hightower was doomed, and he had no intention of praying for forgiveness in that.

After knowing the Hand’s son for some time, though not truly, your father had made a decision. He would allow Gwayne Hightower to marry you, but when he did not say. Gwayne, the virtue he was, awaited patiently. His own father approved of his success, but it wasn’t firm until your father agreed.

But virtue wasn’t something Gwayne was for as of late, ever since knowing you, a pure soul was the last thing the knight was. A moon passed and your father was yet to give his answer, while Otto Hightower himself was also pressuring the Riverlord for an answer in advance as well. Gwayne could no longer wait, no, he would get the answer himself. Hopefully, tonight, without any consulting with his father.

A knock on your chamber door awakened you from your sleep. It was midnight, judging by the darkness outside of your window. Sleepily, you got out of the bed and slowly made your way towards the door to open it, wondering who might be disturbing your sleep.

“Ser Gwayne?” You were surprised when the door opened, revealing the knight in his sleep attire. He looked comforting to your sight. You were used to his normal attire in green or his shiny armor and golden cloak, so the sight surprised you nonetheless.

“I’m sorry for disturbing you, my lady. But there is something I need to tell you,” he voiced, allowing himself inside of your chamber and closing the door behind smoothly.

“Must you tell me now? The hour is late, ser. It is rather inappropriate for us to be in this private,” you carefully whispered to him, the sleep started to wear off now that you saw his beautiful face.

“I must. Because if I do not, there is a chance I’ll never get to tell you forever,” Gwayne paused, darting his gaze away before pacing around the corner of the room. You noticed the distress in his demeanor and couldn’t help yourself as your hands offered him comfort on his arms. “What is it?”

The concern in your precious voice almost made Gwayne lose his facade, a smirk threatening to reveal itself on his face, but he fought it in successfully.

“I fear your father would never allow me to marry you.” His words caused paleness to take over your face. You felt your hands turn cold and your heart dropped  from fear and anxiety. “What makes you think that?”

“It has been over a moon now since he made a promise. Every day I keep asking him about our marriage, and every day he would tell me soon and soon,” you watched how his fingers ran through his auburn hair distressingly. He looked so pretty under the moonlight, you thought.

Gwayne turned to you then, carefully finding your gaze. His one hand found your jaw, he caressed them gently with fondness. He whispered your name, speaking. “You are a beauty, my dear. If something is preventing us from marriage, then at least can I get the chance to tell you how much I love you?”

The breath in your throat hitched. “I love you too, Gwayne,” your voice whispered. You could see a smile forming on the corner of his lips.

“Then at least our love agrees with each other,” Gwayne moved his face closer then and gently, he pressed his lips onto yours.

Eventually, the kiss turned hot, passionate and irresistible. Gwayne was not letting your mouth go, he was never giving you a chance to catch your breath. And when you did, he slid his tongue into your mouth smoothly. Tasting the sweet and wetness against your tongue.

You moaned into his mouth as he deepened the kiss, pushing himself closer to you; chest to chest. The sheerest of your nightgown didn't actually shield your skin at all. Gwayne could feel the fullness of your breasts pressing against him, and it sent blood straight down to his cock right away.

Slowly and carefully, he led you backward to the end of your bed before pushing you onto the mattress. Gwayne’s rough hand sneaked under your nightgown, finding your thigh. He gave it a gentle squeeze, earning a quiet gasp from you. His soft lips traveled from your lips to your neck, giving it a small suckle that was enough to leave a pinkish mark upon. While his other hand came to cup your breast, his thumb found your hardened nipple, making you mewled at the sensation.

“Gwayne—” you called but was quickly shushed by him.

“Do not worry now, my love. Am I not making you feel good, hm?”

Gwayne broke the kiss to look at your face then—hot and red and flushed, just like how he loved. Your eyes glossed with unfamiliar desires. Nodding, you urged him to continue his action and that he did.

A gasp slipped out from your lips when his fingers made contact with your entrance; wet, virgin and untouched, teasing the bundle upon it. Feeling how wet your cunt was by just kissing, Gwayne almost busted inside of his own breeches at the thought.

His blue eyes now darkened with lust, watching your face carefully—hungrily. His name fell from your lips like prayers when his finger finally entered your tight cunt. He loved it, he cherished every moment by his eyes as he watched you writhing underneath him. Gwayne dragged his mouth to your other nipple then, biting it through the fabric of your nightgown.

You were a mess underneath him. An unfamiliar feeling was building up inside of you as his fingers worked themselves on your pearl, approaching your highest. You were unsure of the feeling, but Gwayne kept comforting you with soft assurances in your ear, telling you it would be alright soon.

“Come for me, my love. I want you to come for me, look at me as you do so.”

Gwayne whispered keenly close to your ear, kissing and sucking the soft spot below as he did. The lewd sound of your arousal increased as well as your moans, eventually, you climaxed with his name on your tongue.

You were still catching your breath when Gwayne got up from you. His eyes watched you darkly, a satisfied smirk displayed on his face. You were exhausted, he could tell after coming down your high. It was your first time, anyway. Your face flushed hot with sweat glistened on your features. You looked beautiful, glowing from the orgasm and Gwayne couldn’t wait until the next time where he would officially take you in your wedding bed.

Carefully, Gwayne adjusted the fabric of your nightgown to its proper place before tugging your blanket up to shield your shivering body. He softly pressed a kiss on your cheek, your eyes were closed now, slowly drifting into sleep. Before slowly making his way out of your chamber.

After closing the door, Gwayne turned to see your father walking in the hallway. His pace stopped in his tracks as he noticed the familiar face exiting his daughter’s bedchamber in the middle of the night, and his blood began to boil at the sight.

On the contrary, Gwayne didn’t even look shocked or surprised by the presence of your father at all. In fact, the Hand’s son had already planned that out before even coming to your door. Consequences be damned, at least Gwayne was finally able to get the answer out of your father.

With a self-satisfied smirk, Gwayne raised his finger up to his lips, gracing it with a suggestive manner before walking away from his sight. When morning came, the King would announce the official news of your marriage within the fortnight, which your father could no longer prevent it no matter what.

[writingsbychlo]

LAST NIGHT | mattheo riddle

summary; on again, off again, you and mattheo have always gone round and round in circles, but this is the last time.

word count; 3962

notes; based on this song! my first ever mattheo fic, or even slytherin boy fic, so hope you enjoy, sorry if it sucks lmao <3

“I’m done, Mattheo!” Your voice bounced off the walls, giving the half-arsed silencing spell you’d cast two hours ago a run for its money. “I’m fed up of this. I’m fed up of your attitude, and your bullshit, and the way you just don’t seem to care about anything!”

“Oh, you’re done?” He mocks, bringing the cigarette back to his lips as he sits on the windowsill, rolling his eyes and blowing smoke out into the night air. 

“Yes, I’m done.”

“Bullshit. You say that every other week. What is this, our fourth breakup this year? Fifth?” Stubbing out what was left on the stone wall, he flicked the butt out into the darkness, finally swinging his legs back to the floor and turning to face you. “You had no problem with my carefree attitude and my bullshit and my laidback nature when we started dating. Why are you throwing a hissy fit now, what’s this really about, huh?”

Your jaw clenched, clenched so hard it hurt. He smirked at that, wider when your fists balled by your sides, and he took an arrogant swig of the firewhiskey the two of you had been splitting. The very drink that had given you the courage to do this in the first place. 

“Nothing to say, then? That’s what I thought.”

“Mattheo—”

“Storm your pretty arse out the door, love. Slam it, like you always do. You’ll come back in the middle of the night, like you always do, and I’ll be here waiting for you.” A lump caught in your throat, and the fiery anger in your body settled into a cool rage. 

“It’s different this time, Mattheo. When we started dating in the fifth year, nothing but having a date to Yule Ball mattered, but we’re two months from graduation, and you— you’re hopeless. We’re hopeless.” His brows pinched, a snarl taking over his features at your harsh words and the small seed of victory was squashed by the tension building in the air. “You won’t tell me anything about our future, about your own and if I even have a place in it. You won’t make plans, you’re barely even passing your classes and you don’t care. It’s been years, Matt, and you still treat me like I’m just some fun.”

“Exclusive fun. At least I’m not sleeping with anyone else.” He smirked again around the words, throat bobbing as he swigged at the whiskey, a golden drop leaking down his chin and your hands itched to wipe it away. “You knew who I was when we met.”

“Yes, I did.” Your voice cracked, and just like that, a gaping cavern seemed to split through all those emotions, leaving a feeling of hollow, cold numbness to fill your chest in its place. So wide it was dark, echoes of feelings bouncing on stone walls, and you rubbed over your chest. “But I wish you were someone I never met.”

Silence filled the space between you both, airtight like the oxygen was starting to thin. “You wish I was someone you never met?”

“Yes.” Your voice shook even as you said it, the glass bottle clinked on the stone ledge as he set the bottle down. His shoes scuffed on the floor, as he made his way over to you, long strides that you matched backwards, until your back was pressed to the door. “Mattheo.”

His hands slammed onto the wood on either side of you, crowding you until your noses were brushing, the warmth of his body seeping into you. His voice was like a growl, skittering along your body like a reverberation as he spoke, “You wish you never met me?”

“I didn’t—”

“No. You didn’t.” He cut you off, your shoulders slumping in defeat as that red in his gaze took over. There was no sentience now, nothing to be said, not as your hand slipped across the wood towards the doorknob behind you. The time for talking was over, there was nothing left to be said now.

He was right. 

He knew you far too well. Just like every other time, you wanted to storm out, slamming the door and cursing his name, promising you’d never go back. Just like every other time, you’d end up coming back to him, over and over again, a vicious circle where you crawl back into his bed, and he whispers sweet things in your ear that never come true, and you go on like it never happened. 

Over and over and over. 

You released the doorknob, his eyes searching your own, and instead, you gripped his jaw. He startled, even more when you yanked his mouth down to yours, hands sliding around until you were pulling yourself up to his height. He groaned, a deep sound as his mouth opened against your own, wet and needy with desperate kisses. 

His body collapsed against yours, pinning you to the door, only interrupted by his own arms sliding around your waist, bodies flush and racing hearts pounding together through your chests.

“See, isn’t this so much better?” He muttered, nipping at your lower lip as your head tipped back to rest on the wood, his mouth beginning to make tracks along your jaw instead. “When you just shut up and stop overthinking, and let things go how they work, huh?”

That same hot mouth continued its path, your breath shallowing as he kissed down and down, wet tongue licking across your collarbones and the swell of your tits. Rough hands pushed up at your shirt, bunching the fabric up as your shaky hands attempted to undo the buttons, falling into every touch and lie that came from his mouth. 

Just like always, you fell into his trap, like a bee to honey, he knew every weakness. Dropping to his knees before you, pretty brown eyes all but sparkled as he smirked up, glittering with victory. His tongue laved over the soft skin below your belly button, tracing the edge of your skirt, fingers toying with the hem line when your own laced into the soft brown curls, pushing them back. 

“Matty…”

“That’s right, baby.” Another wet kiss to your stomach, one sensual enough to leave your back arching against the wood, pushing closer to him as his hands dipped under the skirt to find the sides of your panties. Peeling them slowly down your legs, he propped his chin on the soft pudge of your stomach, peering up. “The only thing that mouth should be screaming at me is prayers to God and begs of my name.”

Your scoff was lost to a moan as he slapped the tender back of one thigh, skin stinging, the welts that would be left by the cold rings decorating his fingers only made you tremble with further excitement, further need. Need for him, desperation for the man who knew you so well, like the back of his hand. Every touch, every tell, every weakness exploited was by design and knowledge. 

“You want my mouth, baby? Say it. Tell me what you want.” A nip to the inside of one thigh, delicate skin abused by teeth and lips, a bruise there he would leave so proudly. 

“I want your mouth.”

“Yeah, I bet you do. Tell me, who would make you come like I can if you left me, huh?” 

A retort sat on the tip of your tongue, stinging words with a bitter bite, ready to chew his head off once more for his arrogance, but it all died away as your head thumped back on the door. His tongue swept through your folds, head hidden under the pleats of your skirt as he lapped from your entrance to your clit, hot breath fanning across your sensitive skin as he moaned. 

He wasn’t gentle, nor was he patient, not as he set to work on something he enjoyed just as much as you did. His tongue worked you over, your thighs trembling on either side of his head as he licked and swirled, fingers sliding up the sides of your legs. You didn’t want to speak, to give him the satisfaction of rewarding him for his effort, teeth sinking into your lower lip in a desperate attempt to keep quiet.

He took it as the challenge it was, growling against your core, the vibrations shaking along your spine and lighting you up like fireworks in the crisp night air, sparking you to life like a fuse. He doubled down on his efforts, wet and messy, pulling on every trick he knew you loved, tongue sinking into your hole just to pull back as you clenched, teasing and taunting until you were dizzy. 

Sucking on your clit until your knees shook, almost threatening to give way, he sank one finger into your dripping cunt, and your pledge for silence gave way, a loud cry slipping from you and bouncing around the room. He nipped at your sensitive clit to celebrate his own victory, a squeaky sound escaping at the sensation, and your nails scratched into the wood of the door, doubtless leaving claw-marks he’d never let you live down. 

That one finger became two, scissoring and curling until you could no longer take it, exploding around his digits with frantic rolls of your hips into his hand. He let you ride it out, never letting up, never stopping his assault, your body spasming under his hold until he was pulling back, other hand pinning your hips to the door. 

Your legs finally gave way, only held up by the support of his body as he kept you locked where you were, slamming those fingers in and out of you until you were begging. Begging for another release, begging for reprieve, begging for anything at all, as he barrelled you towards another orgasm. 

When this one struck it was with a scream, with a burning heat so intense you thought your clothes might turn to ash on your very skin, melt away into nothing the same way every thought in your head had managed to do. 

He finally pulled back, slick and shining fingers going straight to his mouth as his body supported your own, one hand slipping to your hip and holding you tight, steadying you against the door until your shaking breaths evened out. 

The taste of yourself was still on his tongue as his mouth crashed into your own, your shaking hands nothing like his steady ones as the two of you tore at one another’s clothing, stumbling together in a tangle of limbs and kisses towards the bed. Stripping on another of clothes in rough movements and angry tugs and rips, until you were bare, his hot cock pressing to your stomach, smearing precum over your skin and letting you know just how much he wanted you. 

He may have you fucked stupid, wrapped around his little finger, but at least you knew you had him in that same helpless grip. 

Reaching between your bodies and taking his hard cock in hand, he let out a stuttered moan at the first pump, the drag of his flesh in your hand, precum spilling out over your fingers in a sticky trail. His need tasted like sin on your lips, your name a mumbled praise that sounded like a curse as you pumped him slowly, his hands flexing so tightly on your hips they’d no doubt leave tainted marks. 

“Fucking hell, baby. Gonna’ fuck you so good, gonna’ fuck you ‘til you remember some sense, ‘til you’re screaming the way only I can make you.” With one rough shove, you were spilling out across his mattress, gripping the sheets with your fingertips as he crawled up and over you. 

A quick movement and you were flipped, finding yourself face down into the bedsheets, his weight pressing into you at every angle from above, and then—

Then the stretch, the slow drag as he sank into you, joint moans as he gave you no time to adjust. The burning rage in his veins drove him into you until your hips sat snugly together, his throbbing cock stretching out every wall within you to that delicious brink between pleasure and pain. 

“Fuck, Mattheo…”

“Don’t say my name again tonight unless you’re fucking screaming it.” He pulled back, snapping his hips into your own with such brutality that the sound echoed around the room, your fingers screwed into the sheets practically turning white-knuckled with how your body tensed and shuddered. He did it again and again, slamming into you with a force that knocked the breath from your lungs every time. “I’m still so goddamn mad at you, but you’re just too hot when you yell at me.”

“Fuck you.” Your words didn’t have nearly as much vitriol as you wanted, not when they were muttered out into the sheets as your face pressed into them, drool on your lips from every slam of his cock into you. He caught them though, fingers lacing into your hair and yanking your head up, the pace never slowing, even as his body covered your own, lips brushing the shell of your ear. 

“I already am, sweetheart. You just can’t help yourself, giving yourself over to me even when you’re mad. My pretty little slut.”

A particularly sharp thrust, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as every other feeling seemed to melt away until only the pound of his hips into your own was left. You could feel him everywhere, outside and inside, as he filled your every thought and every cell. It had always been like this, utterly intoxicating with him since that very first kiss, the moment those captivating eyes had locked on your own and you’d been tangled in the web that was Mattheo Riddle. 

The first scream slipped free from your lips as his hand came down across your arse with a slap, a condescending chuckle followed it and he rewarded you with an extra hard squeeze. Driving into you with renewed force, he left a matching handprint on the other side, and you cried out his name with cracked voice. “That’s right, fucking take what I give you.”

“Mattheo!”

His name was like a chant now, unstoppable as pleasure swelled and built inside of you, brain going foggy and his name the only thing that was clear, His touch was grounding but his kisses were like a drug, trailed along your shoulder and spine as he smothered you into the mattress, tears building in your eyes with the delicious overwhelm of it all. 

Trembling, shaking, your body was hardly your own as you squirmed beneath him, pushed down into the bed as tears wet the sheets from your eyes, used like a whore and loving every second of it. 

Another peak was building, the tangling in your stomach a telltale sign as your body tensed under his touch, like an instrument he knew just how to play as his fingers skated along your body, tweaking nipples and travelling down to your clit, harsh circles rubbed into the swollen bud.

With only a couple of unsteady circles, you exploded, screaming his name just as he promised you would heat flaring through you, sweat slick between your bodies. 

His lips left sloppy kisses along your neck as he never let up, only stopping enough to pull back, and leave you for just a second as a trembling mess on the sheets. Long enough to flip you over, to push your knees up until they were almost to your chest, hooked over his shoulders as he sank back into your wetness. 

Your hands were shaking, coming up to grip at his biceps, half-lidded gaze locked on that fiery stare of his own, even when his forehead came down to press to your own. Your nails tore welts into his arm, a pleasured hiss on his lips and his hips stuttered, lips tugging up at the edges in a pain-fuelled smirk of sheer bliss.

“God, look at you. My perfect girl, and this perfect pussy grippin’ me so good. I fucking love you, and you love me.” You could only muster a whine in reply, arching your back until your nipples brushed his chest, the added stimulation making your eyes roll back in your head, shuddering right down to every last nerve you had. 

“Mattheo…” Your voice was raw, unable to scream anymore, and a sick gratification flashed over his features, open mouth brushing yours, letting you swallow every moan he let out. 

His hips rolled, the fluttering and spasming of your inner walls sending him toppling over the edge, and with one last rough stutter of his hips into you he stilled. Bracketed between your thighs his weight collapsed atop you, heat flooding your core as he spilled into you, pump after pump, the aftershocks of your orgasm reigniting a little at the feeling, drawing out until you tingled right down to your fingertips. 

If you’d had any strength at all, any ability to even move, you’d shove him off of you, roll away from him out of his grip. Instead, he lay against you, panting, tracing his fingertips softly up and down your ribs in that way he knew you loved, until he’d gained enough of his own strength to push himself up. 

A whimper slipped free from your lips as he pulled out, wetness leaking from you immediately in his absence, goosebumps covering your skin as his body peeled away from your own. Kneeling back between your aching thighs, Mattheo’s lips twisted in a cruel smirk as he eyed the mess he’d left between your thighs, only growling at the embarrassed flush that covered your body as you attempted to snap your legs shut. 

That burning look of anger and passion still flared somewhat in his eyes, no longer a blazing inferno but lingering enough like smouldering ashes, and he barely bothered to reach over the side of the bed and snatch up his abandoned shirt, tossing it onto your chest for you to clean yourself up. He collapsed down onto the bed beside you, a satisfied sigh escaping him as he propped one bent arm behind his head, rolling onto his side and watching you mop between your thighs with amusement, snickering at the sensitive gasps that occasionally slipped free. 

When you were done, his arm snaked over your waist, tugging you closer to face him as you tossed the ruined shirt down onto the floor somewhere to be cared for later. Sometimes he’d light up a cigarette at this moment, in others, he’d pull the hidden bottle of firewhiskey from under his mattress and take a mouthful. Today was one of the rare occasions when he did neither, settling into your side with a smile on his face, eyes slipping closed and he nuzzled half of his face into the pillow on your side.

Your eyes remained open, though. Studying him. It was no wonder you had caved so many times, no wonder it had been so easy every other time to fall into his arms, to believe all his embellished promises and pretty words. So easy to stay, when he looked like an angel, innocent and sweet and kind, with half a smile on his face and an adorably possessive arm over your waist as you cuddled into him. It was just like every other time you’d caved to him. 

But not this time. 

No, for once, you’d be strong. You’d endure the pain of leaving him, endure the suffering of being without him if it meant being happy, being healthy, being the kind of woman a daughter could look up to one day. You would never let your own child, your friends or family endure this kind of toxicity, so why did you continue to allow it for yourself?

No more handsome smiles and golden eyes drawing you back in. 

It was as you were making this decision, taking a bracing, deep breath, that his eyes cracked back open, focusing on where you lay mere centimetres from him. Staring at you from a shared spot on the same pillow, he gave a hint of a smile in the dim lighting of the room, eyes sparkling, like things might really be different this time. 

You’d fallen for it one too many times. 

His lips puckered slightly, expectant for a kiss, and your own lips pressed together, resisting the urge to find his. Instead, you rolled over, throat stinging and eyes burning as you faced away from him, sliding out of the bed. The stone was cold under your feet as they hit the floor, every step from the comforting warmth of the sheets was like stepping into the Arctic. 

“Why are you not in bed right now?” Mattheo groaned, and you heard the sheets rustle as you gathered your clothes. He rolled in the bed, clutching a pillow to his chest instead, an amused look on his face. “You don’t need clothes, I’ll keep you plenty warm.”

Tugging on your shirt, you only bothered with two buttons, his brows rising and smile beginning to dim, as you tugged on your skirt and yanked up the zip. Socks didn’t matter, nor did your tie, shoving them into the pockets of your robe, and he propped himself up among the pillows. 

“What are you doing?”

“Leaving.”

“This again?” He said, still not taking you seriously. His messy hair, swollen lips, those pretty brown eyes, it was all so hard to resist. The frown on his face, the disbelief in your conviction, less so. “Stop being ridiculous and come back here. You’ve made your point, I’m sorry. I’ll do better. Whatever.”

“No, Mattheo. That’s just it.” Finding your shoes and scooping them up, your toes flexed on the cold floor, a protest at the cold, but you’d make it back to your room before they got frostbite. “You won’t change. You never change. I’m not doing this again.”

“We’ve been over this.”

“Yes, and you were right.” His eyes narrowed, confusion flashing over his face at your concession. “I always leave, and right about this time, I always come back, and crawl into your bed, and I’m not doing this again. This time it’s different. This time it’s over, Mattheo.”

“It can’t be over.”

“But it is. This is the best decision for us both, really.”

“I think I should have been part of a decision that's in my interests, then!” He burst, scrambling across the sheets and standing himself, beginning to tug on his own clothes. “We’re not over. We can’t be, you don’t mean that.”

“Mattheo, stop.” He did, pants sitting low on his hips, unbuttoned as his hands fell slack to his sides instead. “Just, give it some thought. You’ll see, I’m right.”

“You’re not right.”

“Sleep on it.” You couldn't do it anymore, any longer and you’d give in like always, fall into his arms and let him temporarily kiss it better. 

“I’m still gonna’ wake up wanting you and me.”

You sighed, hand closing around the door handle again. This time, you had the strength to open it. For once, you truly felt like he was listening to you, like the threat of leaving was at last finding its home within him. He was hearing it. 

“Don’t leave.” He whispered as you stepped into the hall, the silencing spell crumbling around you as you left the bubble, and the sounds of the world came crashing back in. The howl of the wind outside, the shuffle of midnight wanderers in the common room, and owls hooting to the moon, all fill the empty space. “Don’t leave me. I love you.”

“Become something worth staying for, and I’ll keep loving you too.”

[zaldritzosrose]

Surrender (Sihtric x Noble!Reader)

Summary: Your relationship with Sihtric was secret, except from those closest to you. And ever the gentleman, Sihtric was determined for you to remain pure. But somethings, or some people, are just too tempting to resist.

TW: She/Her pronouns, afab reader, innuendo, dry humping, fingering, eventual sex, Sihtric being soft and a little subby (if you squint)

Words: 2,660

It had been quite the task to hide your relationship with Sihtric, being a lady-in-waiting to the Lady Aethelflaed. Courting a Dane would not go down well with the King, you knew that without any doubt. But it did not stop either of you, the sweet, shy smile Sihtric would always cast your way was far too hard to resist.

Though it had not taken your Lady long to notice, which should have spelled disaster. But she had been nothing but supportive. Even going as far to assure you no one would know other than her, and anyone Sihtric himself chose to tell. In terms of his friends, he had not needed tell them. Apparently, he had not been as subtle in his affections towards you as he thought. Finan had been the first to notice, not hesitating to tease Sihtric over the way he never seemed able to tear his eyes away from you any time they were at the royal castle. And it had only been a matter of time before Uhtred and Osferth knew as well – the Irishman being incapable of keeping it a secret for long.

Which brought some comfort, with how your lady and his friends would always find ways to bring the two of you together in secret.

And if there was one thing to be said about your Dane paramour, was that he was a gentleman, through and through. At least with you. No matter how much you tried to tease and tempt, Sihtric was stubborn and determined not to, in his words, ‘sully your virtue’. He would remind you time after time, that it was not proper of him to make a Christian such as yourself sin. Even when you tried to remind him that not every Saxon was a devout Christian. But he was dead set on that fact.

Until one day, you heard quite the interesting piece of information that you knew might help…persuade your lover.

“It stays innocent if our clothes stay on…”

You had heard those words uttered between two ladies, around your age, at the Winchester market and they had stuck with you. Sihtric was set to return to Winchester that evening and you kept the phrase turning in your mind as you awaited his return. You had returned to Winchester castle and completed your duties for your Lady, when word soon came of the return of Uhtred and his men. And Lady Aethelflaed being the staunchest support of your relationship, prepared for you to finish your duties and have an excuse to leave her company. You had nothing but thanks for her, she did not need to help you as she did, but you were forever grateful to her for it.

So, you waited, under a particular tree in some secluded gardens just outside the busy centre of the city. Secluded enough for a secret lover’s meeting. And you did not have to wait long for Sihtric to arrive, and he never failed to make your skin flush and your stomach flip with how he greeted you. Thick arms wrapping around your waist and lifting you into his embrace, burying his face into your neck. Like he was reminding himself you were real.

“Missed me?” you laughed, blushing as he peppered kisses over your cheeks before finally reaching your lips.

“What do you think, my lady?” he whispered, following his path of kisses back over your face again.

You could only giggle in response; he made you feel like you were the only person in his entire world when he held you like this. But those kisses were not enough for you. Not right now. He had been gone for a few weeks, almost a month, and that amount of time had not dulled your need for him.

Your hand found the back of his neck and kept him close as he set you back down onto the ground. Not hesitating to push your lips onto his in a much more aggressive kiss and Sihtric was quick to meld his lips to yours. Facial hair tickling your skin as he walked you back towards the tree behind you. Hands resting on your waist tight, quickly taking control of the kiss as he usually did.

But before long, he pulled back and you could not help the sigh that left your lips and Sihtric only smiled in response.

“You know why, my lady, I do not want to-” he began but you pressed a finger to his lips.

You knew what he would say, that he did not want to ‘taint your virtue’.

“I heard something today, you know, that might persuade you,” you whispered, pressing a single kiss to the curve of his jaw, and you could see him roll his eyes. But he waited for you to continue.

“I heard…that it stays innocent if we remain clothed,” you continued, and Sihtric pulled back a little, but you chased his lips and pulled him down for another kiss.

But this time you tried to move things further, your hands now gripping into his shirt and pulling him tighter to your body. And he relented, until your hands began to delve lower.

“Not yet, my lady…” he whispered and when you opened your mouth to speak again, he silenced you with a final kiss.

Three weeks later, a note arrived at your rooms with the name of an inn and nothing else written upon it. Which meant only one thing, Sihtric was leaving again. You had no duties remaining, so you wasted no time in grabbing your cloak and hurrying out of a little-known door to the castle. The walk to the inn felt like it took forever, when it was mere minutes with how quiet the city was now. The whole situation was bittersweet. You were excited to see Sihtric as always, but you knew this meant he was going to be gone for who knows how long.

When you arrived at the inn, you were greeted immediately by Finan who only nodded and led you quickly to where Sihtric was roomed. You appreciated the help of course, the less time spent in the more public areas of an inn was better. Finan led you upstairs and knocked once on what you assumed was Sihtric’s door before leaving you to wait.

Thankfully, your lover did not take long to answer, tugging you inside and shutting the door quickly. He was quick to pull you into his arms. Sihtric was one for showing, rather than telling. Physical touch over poetic words.

You were pulled to the bed and Sihtric was quick to have you straddling his lap, a place you had been quite a few times before. His hands on your waist, holding you in place as his lips found yours. The kiss was hungrier than the one he had greeted you with only a few weeks ago and the few you had shared in between. But he always was before he left you.

You wasted less time in trying to push things further and he was a little slower in stopping you this time. Your hands gripping his shirt and unlacing a few ties toward the top. Exposing his throat and collarbone to your lingering kisses. The groans you earned from his lips only spurring you on.

As if on instinct, your hips began to roll, giving into the passion that was coursing through every inch of your veins. Sihtric’s grip on your hips tightened momentarily before he began to help you move and you took that as a sign. You got bold, kissing and nipping softly at his neck and smiling when he did not stop you.

But your joy was short-lived.

“My lady…we should not...” he groaned, the roughness in his tone telling you something very different.

“Sihtric, what I said still stands. We remain clothed, it remains innocent,” you whispered, now kissing from his neck and up to the shell of his ear.

You could feel his resolve faltering. But not quite enough. Sihtric pulled back from you and held your face in his hands.

“When I return, we will talk, my love, I swear it.”

A month, that was how long he had been gone, and you were getting more concerned by the day. Uhtred had followed Alfred and the Saxons to battle with the invading Danes and no news of the outcome had returned to Winchester. And no news was worse than bad news. Not knowing if any of them lived or were hurt or worse. Lady Aethelflaed could see you were concerned and did her best to keep you distracted but when you were alone, you could only wonder what the truth was.

Before he had left, Sihtric had asked you to meet him at the same inn as before and that he would send word the moment he stepped foot in Winchester. Now, it was simply a waiting game.

Days later, such word arrived, and you did not even try to hide the way you rushed from the castle. Lady Aethelflaed made excuses for your sudden departure, as she always did. You near ran to the inn, pushing past patrons and finding Sihtric hidden away in a corner. Without a word, he took your hand and pulled you back towards a room he had already paid for.

The moment that door shut, you were in his arms. Sihtric pressed your back to the door the second the latch clicked closed and his lips found your neck immediately. His beard had grown in the time had been gone and the rough hairs only added to the sensations against your skin.

You can tell he is so lost in his pleasure as he slips his leg between yours, spreading them apart ever so slightly. It is only when you begin to roll your hips against him that he stops.

“You promised we would talk…” you mumbled, the sudden absence of his touch leaving your mind a little foggy.

“I did.”

Sihtric was torn. As much as he wanted more, craved more, there was a part of him that felt guilty at the idea of, for want of a better word, defiling you. As far as he had been concerned, you were good and pure. He could not take that away from you.

“I will say it and keep saying it. It is innocent if we remain clothed…” Your voice was no more than a whisper as you moved to kiss him again, gripping his shirt and pulling him back tight against you.

And you kept saying those words. As you kissed down his jaw, his neck and all the while moving your hands lower from his back to his waist and finally gripping the firm flesh of his backside.

All those things combined had something snap in him. A low, almost whimpered groan leaving him as he pressed himself more forcefully against you. The wood of the door scratching at your back. What you didn’t expect was his hand to grip your thigh and pull it to his waist. Gone was the soft gentleman that had been so averse to such intimacies. Replaced now with a man slowly being consumed by his need and desires.

“I promise…it will be innocent still…” Were the last words that left your lips before they were replaced with moans. His hips rutting up into yours in an almost desperate rhythm, searching for some sort of friction to relieve the rush of blood to his cock. Your words were breaking his resolve piece by piece, but he no longer cared.

But you were not quite ready to relinquish all control. You had spent so long breaking that steadfast resolve of his, that you were not about to falter at the last stretch.

Your hand slipped down his body, palming him over the fabric of his trousers and relishing the sigh that he breathed against your neck as he finally got some of the friction he needed. Your movements were slow, giving him some but not quite enough for him to find release.

“Please…” he mumbled against your neck, barely loud enough for you to hear. So, you played on it, slowing your hand further and asking him to repeat himself.

“Please, my love, just…please,” he barely knew what he was saying, but he knew that his resolve was nothing. He needed you; he wanted you.

You did not let him see the smile that tugged at your lips as you sped up your movements, working his length until he was panting and huffing against your throat. His own hand had found its way beneath your skirts and had them pushed up to your waist. Now it was your turn to moan out, as his fingers dipped quickly beneath your small clothes and between your already slick folds. There was little need for such touches, you were already more than wet and ready for him, but he wanted to feel you. Sihtric had only allowed himself such a pleasure with you once before and he vowed now to never deny himself again.

“Sihtric..” you moaned out as his thumb found your pearl, practised movements creating a steady rhythm that had your head falling back against the door and your hand losing rhythm over his cock.

But he did not mind one bit, your words playing over and over in his mind. If you believed it, then it must be true. “It stays innocent if our clothes stay on…”

His hand on your thigh tightened as the fingers buried in your cunt pulled away. Your whine at the loss of contact was cut short when your heard the rustle of fabric as he untied his trousers. Pushing them down just enough to free his now painfully hard cock. His lips were gentle against yours as he slowly pushed inside, the stretch painful, but not enough to make you want to stop.

And much like before, feeling you clench and relax around him made him wonder why he had denied himself this. You wanted it just as he did. His thrusts began gentle, easing himself inside and giving you time to adjust. You appreciated the gesture, but you wanted…no…needed more.

“Faster, please…”

That was all he needed. His hands gripping your thighs and lifting you higher up the door, reminding you of the strength that was held in such a soft shell. The new angle was enough to have you moaning his name, over and over as his hands held you firm against the door. His rhythm picking up momentum as he chased your release and his. There was no concern for how loud you were being, his name being chanted over and over again as he pounded his hips into you. His own grunts and whimpers muffled by the skin of your neck.

Soon, release found you. Your hands gripping the fabric of his shirt as you sighed out what sounded like his name, but your voice was too pleasure filled to tell. But Sihtric was far from done. Planting one hand against the door and focusing solely on finding his own release. Which came soon enough, the way your walls clenched round him in the aftershocks of your orgasm was enough to having him painting your insides with a soft groan.

He slowed himself to still, pressing kisses over your skin until he reached your lips. The two of you remained there for a while, simply taking in each other’s presence.

The next morning came, and it was the first time you had spent the night sleeping at Sihtric’s side. But you could think of nowhere else to be. Sihtric soon led you downstairs and you were both greeted by his friends, who all turned to you with what could only be described as smug grins. What they all said next, would only be the beginning of their teasing.

“It stays innocent if our clothes stay on…”

Tags: @foxyanon @sihtricfedaraaahvicius @legitalicat @fallingintoyourlilaceyes @alexagirlie

You guys are the reason this got written so you deserve to be tagged!

[alwaysanundertone]

Day 2: food play | wolfstar

smut

TW: NSFW oral (fem receiving), fingering

You just came back from your date in Hogsmade, Remus was carrying a heavy bag full of candies, while Sirius held your hand. You didn’t quite understand why they decided to buy so many candies, but you thought it only made sense: it was Halloween season, there wasn’t such thing as too much sugar.

Once at their dormitory, you sprawled on their bed, while they locked the door. Soon, they were on the bed, one of them on either side of you.

"You look gorgeous, love" Remus was gazing into your eyes, making you blush slightly. Sirius trailed his hand slowly on your arm, then brushing his fingertips over the exposed skin below your navel, making you squirm: you couldn't help it, when you were near them, you always felt a deep rooted need.

You saw them exchanging a knowing look, before casting a silencing spell.

"Now love, are you going to be a good girl for us and undress?"

You nodded, slightly confused: they usually started off slowly, but you didn't mind them ordering you around, it was quite hot honestly.

You obeyed, unbottoning your jeans and taking off your shirt. You felt slightly exposed, they were dressed while you laid there in your panties and bra: you had to resist the urge to cover yourself.

"You look like an angel"

"Me and Remus had an idea" Sirius cut him off, getting up to pick up a pack of his favourite gummies and one of chocolates.He looked at you with a devilish grin "Now, love, you will stay very still for us, and we will make you feel so good" You nodded frantically.

Remus picked up the bag of chocolates, opening it with his teeth. He then proceeded to work on the front clasp of your bra, exposing your breasts.

"So beautiful" You blushed, waiting for their next move. The fact that you didn’t have a clue on their plans made you even more aroused, the power dynamic making you nearly feverish with need.

Remus started to position the sweet treats all around your nipples and in the valley between your breasts. Every touch made you want to squirm, but you knew that you couldn't, they said to stay put.

Sirius covered the line from your breasts to your mound in candies. "We thought of a little game. We’re going to play with you, but if you let even one of these candies fall, your orgasm will be denied, so stay put, do you understand?"

"Yes, yes I understand"

Sirius fingertips grazed your clit slightly: you knew he was testing the waters, wanting to know how much you were willing to obey. You stayed still, even though your body begged to squirm, you didn't.

He then put a little more pressure on it, while Remus started to suck on the chocolate right next to your left nipple, then dragging it on your chest, writing an "R" on it. Every touch seemed to be amplified; the soft texture of the gummies being dragged on your sensitive skin made you feel on fire.

Sirius lowered his head on the candy right above your most sensitive area and sucked on it. Then, slowly, he dragged it right on your clit, applying even more pressure.

You knew you couldn’t move, and you hated them for this, because they knew how responsive you were to their touch. You’ve always hated being restrained, but now you wish you were, that way you wouldn’t be thinking about staying still and actually enjoy their touches.

“Now love, you seem a little distracted, we should do something about it” Remus then started teasing and sucking your right nipple, his other hand now pinching the other one. He knew how sensitive you were. He stopped to chew on the chocolate, winking down at you, then resuming to kiss your skin.

Meanwhile, Sirius had lowered his head on your core, and was beginning to suck on your clit, while his index finger teased your whole slightly.

If they kept this up, you were sure you were bound to come soon, the stimulation being nearly overwhelming.

“I’m… Sirius”

“Aw, you’re about to come already, love?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, they both stopped touching you altogether, making you whine desperately. “Remi, she tastes sweeter than usual, you should really try”

Remus reached for Sirius collar, and they started to make out right above you, the sight of them together so hot, you thought you might come by just watching them.

After a while, they finally went back to focusing on you, switching positions. “Angel, you were so good  for  us, we’ll let you come now”

Remus started sucking your clit, while Sirius entered you with one of his fingers, and you soon felt the orgasm nearing, they sensed it. “Let go for us, love. You’ve been such a good  girl, listening  to us. Come for us, angel”

And you did, Sirius kissing you while they both worked you through it, stopping when you clearly got overstimulated.

As soon as you got your breath under control, you opened your eyes. "Wow, that was-"

"We know, we're the best boyfriends ever, you got so lucky, yada yada, now come here, we're going to have hot shower sex" Sirius picked you up, throwing you on his shoulder, taking off for the bathroom.

tags: @sxmnc @peterparkerspersonalplaything @riaaavm @iamawkwardandshy @eeviee4 @mysterialee @famouscrusadeluminary @el1smells @rishofkf @mooonyxoxo @happymaeday @yourfiendlyneighbourspiderman @whyshouldihaveanam3 @amazing-bobinsky

[jm-2406]

Answers.

Summary - after an unexpected heated makeout session in the library, Theodore Nott corners you in his bedroom, demanding answers for your reckless behaviour. his possessive side comes out after witnessing you dancing closely with someone else and he decides that enough is enough.

Word count - 1.1k

Note - beware of the stupid writing, i gave it my best. This is written in third person pov and has mentions of [Y/N]. It is quite sweet imo.

This was not how she had planned for the night to go. This was not what she had thought would happen when she stepped foot in the party. And she definitely did not think that she would find herself in such a compromising situation with none other than the host of the party, Theodore Nott.

But, no matter what she had thought or planned for the night things were completely opposite now.

"Did you really think that I'll spare you after the stunt you pulled?" His raspy voice did its magic on her, he didn't even need his wand to cast a spell on her that prevented her from looking away from his intense eyes.

"I don't know what you are talking about." She decided to play dumb; To irritate him and make him mad so that he would leave her instead of cornering her in his bedroom, demanding answers. Answers that could change their equation and mess up everything.

"Oh, so the innocent [Y/N] doesn't know 'what I'm talking about', Is that so? Wearing this sexy dress to rile me up, Flirting with Malfoy, getting too close to him, grinding against him while you looked directly into my eyes and then you have the audacity to play dumb with me? Do you take me for a fool, [Y/N]?" His voice was low but strong, it sent shivers down her spine, in a good and bad way; clouding her senses in fear and lust.

Theodore placed his hands on either side of her head, caging her effectively. [Y/N] turned her head to the side when she felt him coming closer, their noses brushing. She gasped as her eyes fell on the trail of blood dripping from his palm; looking down she could clearly see the shards of glass even in dim lights. It didn't take long for her to put the two and two together. 'Oh god, how much did he drink?' She thought.

"Answer me [Y/N]," Theodore demanded again and bit her earlobe gently. [Y/N] shuddered at the sinful touch. "Stop playing games with me." He whispered in his silky voice.

"You're hurt," [Y/N] said and pushed at his chest. Theodore moved back, giving her space to escape from him but instead, [Y/N] rushed to the bathroom and returned with a first aid kit.

She made Theodore sit on the bed and bandaged his hand. "How careless could you be?" She muttered under her breath but Theodore understood her words. He held her chin with his un-injured hand and made her look up at him, gazing deeply into her eyes he said. "How breathtakingly beautiful could you be?"

He brought his face closer to her, their breath mingling together, just a few centimetres between them but [Y/N] pulled back. "You had one too many drinks. You're not in your senses. You don't know what you are doing at the moment. I can't let you make this mistake."

Theodore pulled her to his lap by her waist. [Y/N] gasped, she kept her hands on his chest to balance herself. "Do I look like a drunkard to you? Can you smell alcohol on my breath? Do you think so low of me that I'll take advantage of you when drunk?" He said with utmost sincerity. [Y/N] was at a loss for words. What she thought to be a drunken mistake was reality. Theodore was sober, he knew what he was doing by coming so close to her.

"Why are you doing this?" Her eyes filled with unshed tears. "I am going to say this clearly once again. I feel nothing for you." Her voice broke as she said. Her heart knew that her mouth was spewing lies but 'it was for the best', she consoled herself.

Quickly putting some more distance between them, [Y/N] rushed to the door only to find it locked from the outside. "If you feel nothing for me then how will you explain whatever happened between us in the library, Miss [Y/L/N]?" She heard his cheeky remark. Tears wetted her face as she pulled on the door but it didn't budge.

"It won't open. My room is secured very efficiently so if by chance someone does trespass my room, he'll get trapped inside. The door won't open unless I unlock it." Theodore stated calmly.

[Y/N] froze. She turned around to face him. "Please. Don't make this difficult for me, for us, for everyone around us, for Daphne." her voice was thick with emotion, breaking his heart.

"That's what I'm asking from you." He was near her in a matter of seconds. His hands cupped her face. He wiped the remaining tears from her cheeks and brought his lips closer to hers, his eyes searching her face for any signs of discomfort. "Tell me the truth, [Y/N]." He asked her once more.

“I do… I feel the same as you. I'm just… afraid… of the consequences.” She finally confessed, her resolve breaking as she lost herself in the moment. Her heart soared high, her soul content with her response. She sighed as she felt Theodore's lips on her, he tasted like the apple juice that he drank not long ago. Their kiss.. it was magical, full of Passion and intensity. He kissed her like he was a starving man and she was a scrumptious meal. He poured all his feelings, his doubts and insecurity into that one kiss. He ravaged her lips completely, kissing her with everything that he had while she found herself moaning against his lips, submitting herself to him. The world be damned.

-♡-

When they were found together in his bedroom the next morning, no one doubted them. The lies that they weaved left no chance of doubts regarding their last night's activities. She reprimanded him and herself too for getting caught up in her emotions and doing something morally wrong, no matter how right it felt while doing it. He laughed it off saying that it'll never happen again but they both knew that it was a lie.

It was not the end but just the beginning. Their beginning.

-♡-

Anyone up for part two/prequel? Please let me know.

[perseephoneee]

kinktober 6 (klaus mikaelson x f!reader)

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ kinktober masterlist

content warnings: blood sharing, you taste your own blood, slight cock warming

a/n: part two of kinktober halloween! i'm a practicing witch so i got wayyy too into the details.

all of these are inspired by this post by @moremaybank

Being a witch in New Orleans meant two things. One, you were guaranteed a run-in with the Mikaelson Family. Two, Klaus Mikaelson would either want to kill you or use you.

To your fate, he found you mildly amusing and infinitely useful. You had a particular percolation towards divination and had luck advising people in the past on what paths to avoid. In exchange for not killing your friends, Klaus has requested your services. Lucky you.

Tonight, you were not with Klaus. You were in your home, lighting candles for Samhain. You were wearing a black dress and witches hat in case trick-or-treaters came by. You had already set up your altar with photos of your ancestors. You were in the process of setting aside some of your dinner as an offering. You were supposed to be left alone. You were never that lucky.

You hear knocking on the door and open it to see Klaus smiling like a cat.

"Trick or treat," he said mockingly. You considered the merits of slamming the door in his face.

"This is my night off."

"This is a friendly call," Klaus said, peering into your home. "Care to invite me in?"

"Friendly entails that we're friends."

"We are friends, love. I even brought you a gift," Klaus said, pulling a box out of his pocket, ribbon wrapped around it. You narrowed your eyes, taking the gift hesitantly and opening it to see a ring. It was a Claddagh ring, except instead of being all silver, the heart was made out of black tourmaline for protection.

"What's the catch?" you asked.

"No catch. I saw it and thought of you," Klaus sighed. "It really is cold out here, and I would be appreciative if you invited me in."

Realizing you weren't going to get the original off your doorstep in any timely manner, you sighed and invited him in. He smiled, immediately inspecting your home as he entered. You went back to your alter, arranging everything as you gathered other supplies.

"In the middle of something?"

"Yes, tonight is actually an important night for my people," you mumbled, filling your arms with candles.

"Ah, Samhain, when all the people I've killed decide to haunt me."

"Do they really?" you turned to look at him, hiding amusement.

"Yes, it's rather annoying," Klaus took the candles out of your arms as you struggled to hold everything. You mumbled a thanks, heading to your living room with him falling behind you. "What spell are you casting this evening?"

"I'm giving thanks to my ancestors and asking for safe passage into the new year," you responded, putting all your materials on the ground. You also liked to give thanks to Hecate, but you didn't think he'd care much about that. Surprisingly, Klaus was silent and even helped you set up your circle. You shuffled your tarot cards, laying seven out before you as you got comfortable on the ground.

"Am I allowed to be here?" Klaus asked. You paused.

"Actually, it's sometimes helpful to have another person as a consort," you answered honestly. You thought he might bite your head off for calling him a witch's consort, but he just nodded and sat next to you as well. You snapped your fingers, lighting all the candles as you took several deep breaths. "I give thanks this Samhain and request safe passage into the new year. I light these candles for my ancestors, Hecate, and Mother Earth, who I will see in spring. Use me as your guide and as your soldier."

The flames burned brighter, a slight wind picking up in the room. Klaus looked around curiously as you flipped over your cards to see the message given to you. The spirits materialized slightly in the room, and you felt their energy trying to pull from yours, desperate for a life of their own. You weren't expecting the force and recoiled slightly as you continued chanting thanks and deciphering the cards. The flames grew hotter, and you struggled to hold your own against so many ghosts. Without warning, you felt Klaus put a hand on your shoulder. You didn't ask before latching on to his energy, pulling from it as an extra force to push back the spirits from the veil. When you closed the circle and finished your spell, the candles burned down to small flames again, leaving you in the quiet of your home. You felt yourself start to fall, Klaus catching you and holding you up as you regained your footing in the living world.

"Is that what usually occurs?" he asked.

"Sometimes, it was just stronger this time around," you coughed, trying to sit up. Klaus helped you, but he didn't remove his hands from you. "Having you around was what helped me push them back."

"Well, we do make a good team," Klaus smiled. You were quiet as you searched his eyes.

"Klaus, why did you come here tonight?"

He paused. "Would it be wrong to say because I missed you?"

You shook your head no, and he visibly relaxed.

"Y/N," Klaus said. "I'm going to kiss you."

You nodded, and he leaned in, kissing you reverently. The big bad of New Orleans was gentler than you imagined, his hands soft against your face as he pulled you closer to him. You sighed into the kiss, letting him deepen it as he laid you carefully on the ground. You pulled him on top of you, fingers scratching his scalp as one of his hands pushed up your dress. He pulled your legs around him, allowing you to feel him against your core.

The kiss grew in intensity, Klaus nipping your lip and coaxing a moan.

"Klaus," you breathed. "I want you, please."

Klaus chuckled at your begging, sitting up to remove his shirt. You removed the rest of your clothes, heat spreading through your body as Klaus admired your form. He sat back against your couch, pulling you into his lap and kissing you again. You let yourself sink down on him, moaning and burying your face in his neck. His hands grabbed your ass, helping you move as you worked up a rhythm. You felt so full with him in you, and the growls you were coaxing from him were enough to bring you to the edge. Klaus brought his hand between you, rubbing over your bud and helping you come with a cry. He held you up as he chased his own release, and when he came, he sank his teeth into your neck.

You had never had a vampire drink from you before, but you expected it to hurt. Klaus drinking from you, though, felt intimate. Like you were now a part of him, he could never shed. Even after he slowed your movements, it took him a second to detach from your neck. His lips were coated red as he rested his head back. Curiosity got the better of you, and you wiped his mouth with your thumb and licked it clean. The taste of your own blood wasn't as appetizing as it was to vampires, but you saw the way Klaus zeroed in on your lips, and it made it worth it. He bit the inside of his wrist, holding it up to you to drink from. You accepted, not breaking eye contact as you felt your skin stitch itself back together.

You both sat in silence.

"You know a Claddagh ring is typically reserved for lovers?" you asked.

"I'm well aware, love."

"Why do I feel this was your plan all along, to seduce me?" you traced his chest, narrowing your eyes at him. He just smirked.

"I've wanted you since I saw you; I just finally saw an opening."

You kissed him again, feeling him everywhere inside of you, as you spent the rest of the evening together as one.

[lotussuns]

Just let me do this. G. Satoru

Warnings: shameless smut, penetrative sex, fingering, reader has a pussy, she/her pronouns used, cum play, dirty talk, mostly praise but some degradation as well, some religious undertones? i guess. Some dom/sub undertones

Word Count: 1,5k

Gojo loved playing with your pretty pussy. He loved the texture, the warm and wet feeling on his fingers, he loved the taste, the smell, everything. Most of all though, he loved doing it to satisfy his selfish needs - whether it be after a particularly rough session of fucking, or in the middle of watching a movie, he loved teasing you to the point of tears. He preferred you pliant, soft, needy. Just like you were acting now.

Your body was still shaking after an earth-shattering orgasm, you were trying to catch your breath while Gojo held up a glass of cold water for you.

“Here baby, drink.” He said while bringing it to your lips and soothingly stroking your back. “You did so well for me, baby. Made me feel so good.” He murmured into your damp hair that he brushed back.

You finished your glass in one go, pulling away from him and laying straight on your back to calm the erratic beating of your heart. Fuck did you love him, but Gojo was starting to drive you insane. The marks he left on your body would surely be spotted by your friends tomorrow at the planned get-together, and you’ve had enough of Suguru’s incessant teasing, especially when Satoru was around. Not to mention, you will be walking funny tomorrow if you let your sensible side get lost again and fuck Gojo first thing in the morning. But it was hard thinking clearly while he was on your side, it was as if the spell he cast on you all those years when you met didn’t fade away at all. Not that Gojo’s devotion to you didn’t grow exponentially either.

Your lover’s voice brought you back to earth again, and at first, you didn’t pay enough attention to know what he was saying which caused him to smirk boyishly.

“Did I fuck your brains out, princess? Seems like my dick rearranged your insides so hard I gave you a concussion.” He laughed while manhandling your body into his desired position. You meant to go pee actually, but now it was as good as impossible with how two strong arms circled round your torso and brought your back closer to his muscular chest. God, he was so hot.

“Shut up, don’t piss me off, Toru. I don’t have the energy to kick your ass.” You mumbled ignoring his obscene comments. In response, he started peppering your back with kisses, some small and innocent while others were wet and open-mouthed. That’s Gojo Satoru for you.

His hands started traveling further down your soft tummy, resting on your tights that were still littered with “proof of his uttermost love and devotion.” as he called it. You knew where this was heading immediately after he traced shapes down your soft body, and you didn’t have to wait long until his skilled fingers started playing with your sloppy cunt.

“Satoru.” You said breathlessly, partially hiding your face in the pillows.

In response, one of his hands steadily grabbed your squishy thigh and placed it on his body to give him more access to your needy cunt, securing it there with his hand. “What is it, baby? I just want to play for a little bit.” He whispered into your ear. “You’ll be a good girl and let me, right? You know how I love touching her, just a little bit, okay.” He kissed the shell of your ear.

“She needs to know who she belongs to.” He said before starting his ministrations

Gojo started playfully, not even wanting to get you off, with one finger slowly dipping between your lips. He could feel his warm cum that slowly started to seep back out, even after he fucked it inside you repeatedly. The feelings of your combined releases on his finger made his softened cock twitch and he bit his lip in order to stop the whine that threatened to fall from his lips. He continued tracing his cum soiled fingers up your pussy, mischievously nudging your swollen clit causing you to let out a small moan.

“Good girl.” He praised knowing you got weak in the knees at the pet name. “ I won’t torture you too much this time, I promise, doll.” He said in a hushed tone and you knew fully that he was lying. You could tell by the first letter he was shaping into your overstimulated cunt - G.

After he was satisfied with that, he dipped back into your filled hole and repeated the motion with O, while you were left clenching around nothing. It was incredibly intimate, being claimed that way, with his cum, his name, his touch. And he knew it got you going almost as much as him, he knew you loved it when he took you like this - gently yet with intention.

J was the letter you hated and loved the most. When you felt his skilled fingers slowly move up to your clit to perfectly place the dot on top of it, your whole body shuddered at the direct stimulation. He continued to press on the little nub, tracing small circles into it, not showing an ounce of care for your worn-out body. His movements speed up while he bit and sucked on your neck, losing himself in the feeling and grinding his half-hard cock between your asscheeks.

“Shh, just let it go, baby, let me claim this cunt like she’s begging me to do. She loves being treated like this, like my pretty cumdump.” He praised sweetly. His grip on your thigh tightened and his hips sped up slightly.

“Come on slut. Don’t make it repeat myself. Fucking cum.” He growled into your ear and slapped your clit once before continuing his abuse on your poor button. That was enough to have you gushing, pushing the rest of his cum out of your spent hole while you continued to clench around nothing. Your eyes rolled back into your skull, while your mouth opened slightly into the perfect O shape.

“F-fuck yesss. ” He groaned, biting his lip while looking at you. His cock shot out small droplets of cum, which surprised Gojo, he was expecting to be shooting blanks by now, with how much he came inside you just minutes prior.

“Yes, baby, yess. I’m so proud of you, knew your sensitive pussy would still handle this. I love you, I love you, I love you.” He babbled between kisses while slowing down his movements to help you ride out your orgasm.

“Look what you’re doing to me baby, driving me insane. I can never let go of you, fuck, I cannot live without this, without you by my side. Will kill anyone who ever tries to get between us.” He continued, that last part was a bit uncalled for but Gojo always spoke from his heart after a good nut.

Your blue-eyed prince repeated the movements of his fingers, for the umpteenth time, almost religiously in the way he seemed to worship your cunt like a priest handling the holiest of artifacts. When his fingers met your wet and pulsing entrance he audibly moaned and dipped his finger in to collect your wetness.

“Just one more, princess, one more.” He whispered while kissing you softly in appreciation that you were still letting him do this after your orgasm left you gasping, small tears running down your cheeks.

“Mhm, love you, Toru.” You babbled, so far into subspace not fully understanding what you were saying. Feeling lost in his touch.

He softly pumped his finger thrice for good measure, and finally traced his perfectly manicured finger into the last letter of his last name. He purposefully avoided your clit this time, satisfied with the outcome.

Well partially, he was thinking of eating your pussy out after writing his full name and making you go completely braindead, but he will save it for another time. He was rough on you before, making you finish on his cock so many times both he and you lost count. In his defense, it was impossible to do it any other way, he wanted to devour you whole, show you why he was the closest thing to a god a man could possibly be. He would give you the world if you asked nonchalantly about it, how could he control himself around you in any way? With a goddess like you by his side.

“I’m done now, sweetheart. Thank you so much.” He said as he gently moved you on the bed and kissed the valley between your breasts, his crystal eyes following every move of your chest to make sure you were okay. “Let’s get you cleaned up, you need to pee.” He stated before picking your limp body in his strong embrace.

You left a few kisses on his damp chest, loving the salty taste on your lips. “Yes, I would like that. I love you so much.” You mumbled with your eyes closed, still not fully out of your headspace, knowing he would take care of you like he always does.