#look i know this is damning and i should be disapproving of both of them in this context

[reyolfx]

cas: melts donatello's brain for the cause

dean: cas what's wrong with you that was BAD BEHAVIOR

dean, later: here's an AW traitor who's obviously frightened. cas, look into my eyes. i want you to fry his brain. yeah, just like that. little more. okay eyes on me. that's enough.

[jaewritesfic]

Melon!AU Part 2

If it had been anyone but Cass to suggest it, Bruce is certain that both Damian and Tim would have responded with an immediate and vehement, Are you insane?!

But it is Cass. It's Cass, so Damian makes a choked sound and bites out, “Help. The Pit Demon?”

Similarly, Tim chokes out, “I don't know about that one, Black Bat. I mean- it's- it looks-”

“Judging books?” Cass asks through comms, a gentle disapproval in her tone that rivals Alfred’s in effectiveness. Bruce himself feels a little cowed by it.

Diplomacy had not, after all, been on his mind before his daughter spoke up.

He should know better than to make assumptions, especially if she's right and the creature isn't as hostile as it seems.

That's still a very big if.

“Commissioner,” Bruce says lowly, turning his head. Gordon is lingering near the roof access stairway, having come up to brief them but seeming reluctant to even look down on the creature in the alley. “Have there been any casualties? Injuries?”

Jim falters, uncharacteristically rattled. Bruce can't blame him - there's a low level dread and an unsettling feeling just being in the same vicinity as the creature, and that's as a seasoned vigilante. Someone who faces death down regularly.

“Uh. No. No, it uh- it took some swipes at people who got too close, but it didn't connect. We backed off pretty fast and called you as soon as possible.”

Bruce blinks. “Not even any blood drawn?”

Gordon shakes his head. “Damn miracle. The thing is fast and those claws are vicious.”

He hears Cass hum into the comms, and he understands exactly why.

The thing in the alley is built to do damage. He has his doubts it was any kind of miracle that made it ‘miss’ any of the swipes it took.

Trying to scare them off indeed.

“Black Bat. What exactly are you reading off the creature?”

“Looking for exits. Desperate. Overwhelmed.”

Bruce hums. “Being cornered and desperate will make anyone or anything dangerous. We need to proceed carefully here. Even if it doesn't want to hurt anyone, that doesn't mean it won't if it thinks it has no other-”

The shadow that is Cass shifts in his periphery, and he looks up to the opposite roof just in time to bark, “Do not-!” as Cass steps off the roof and flips down into the alley.

Why are his kids so determined to give him a stroke?

Dick vaults up over the edge of the roof to join he and Tim, saying, “I'm here, what's-”

He cuts off and claps his hands over his ears with everyone else when the creature shrieks at Black Bat's unexpected arrival.

“Black Bat,” Bruce grits out, heart in his throat as he peers over the edge with ringing ears. “Retreat back to the rooftops now.”

One tap to the comm. No.

Bruce grits his teeth, fighting not to show his anxiety. It's not like Cass to refuse orders. Hell, he can't remember her ever disobeying an order in the field so blatantly.

The low warning noise the creature is making now is almost as bad as the shriek. Something about it sets off every alarm bell in his brain, like it was never meant to be heard by human ears. Almost a growl, almost a moan, something celestial and unfathomable.

Cass doesn't back up or get any closer. She raises a hand slowly in a little wave and says, “Hello.”

If it were possible to startle a fax machine, it would probably sound like the creature does as it jerks and snaps its mouth shut in surprise, lamplight eyes going huge and round.

Masterpost

[denileisariver]

imagine bruce catching you humping a batman plushie <3

dick comes home one day with a massive box filled with superhero merch, the rest of the family emptying it out quickly, sporting their favorite heroes memorabilia.

at first, bruce doesn't think much of it. he thinks it's cute that they want to show their support, showing love to the people they grew up to be inspired by. that is up until he realizes none of them at all have anything that is remotely dedicated to batman whatsoever.

dick and his stupid superman hoodie, jason with wonderwoman joggers, duke with flash shoes, barbara with dinah's band on a t-shirt, stephanie with a damn green arrow cup. seriously? green arrow?

it makes him grumpier than usual, highkey lowkey insecure because while he is gothams beloved hero, he isn't their hero. he doesn't acknowledge his family besides a grunt here or a shrug there, going nonverbal and isolating himself because he's jealous of the other members of the justice league and is too much of a hard ass to admit it.

so he decides to go to the only person he feels that he can confide in without judgment. you. bruce had been away from you for way too long, even avoiding you because he felt that his reaction was childish, and it really wasn't the big deal he was making it out to be.

so after a couple of days of him wallowing in his self-pity, he goes up to your room after patrol, knowing you usually stood up until late hours of the night waiting for the families return, even though he specifically told you not to.

he isn't aware of what you're doing on the other side of the door, wearing one of bruce's old sweatshirts that his scent still lingered on, and a pair of batman panties that you bought discreetly, before dick had even brought all the other superhero merch to the manor.

you're grinding your precious cunt on the face of a batman plushie that you did take from the box, whimpering mindless babbles of how much you missed bruce, how much you needed him.

you don't notice him opening your bedroom door, completely oblivious that he's staring at you slack-jawed, his cock twitching in excitement in his suit. bruce's eyes follow the curve of your ass that looked so perfect, covered in batman logos all over it. then catching the pointy bat-ears that stuck out from underneath you, moving in cadence with the rock of your hips.

oh. so this is what you do when he's not there.

he guesses that you must've been doing this for a while now, because your back is arching and your movements become increasingly sloppy, toes curling and making a mess of the plush beneath you. he curses to himself a bit in a small whisper, palming the buldge in his pants that was begging to be released.

"that's it, princess. make yourself cum,"

the sound of his voice makes you jump, whining in surprise. you get all flustered, embarrassment replacing how horny you were, almost. batting your lashes at him, you're unsure if you should continue, but bruce tuts in disapproval, urging you to keep going.

"did i tell you to stop?"

you waste no more time, not wanting to annoy him in case he decided to make you get off without his help. it doesn't take long at all, your clit swollen and sensitive from repeatedly rubbing it on the poor stufie, the friction quickly sending you over the edge. you bend over, both because your legs are weak and tired out and to give bruce a better view of your desperation.

your panties stick to your pussy because they're so soaked, outlining the pretty folds of it, your cunt fluttering around nothing. bruce pulls at your underwear, the fabric lifting and going between your tiny seam, your labia wet and exposed for him. the action emits a small moan from you, gently swaying your ass in front of him, hoping to entice him enough to fuck you. which it does.

he squeezes one of your asscheeks with a large hand, grabbing the batman plushie from underneath you and inspecting it. it's damp, the smell of your arousal filling his nostrils. he has to resist licking your slick off of it, but he doesn't see the point in doing so when he has the real thing right in front of him.

so he tosses it to the side, grabbing and flipping you over so you're straddling his chest. his calloused hands grope at your thighs, pulling you a little closer to his mouth.

"if you wanted to ride my face, all you had to do was ask, sweetheart."

you never been more grateful in your life for being a greedy little slut than you are now.

a/n: yes this was inspired by that one webtoon :p

[spidermarkmp]

nerdbf!sunwoo x female!reader

18+ smut warning! mdni.

note: this picture was posted and immediately my brain went 😵‍💫 so here is this :) also this is my first little story so please go easy on me.😭 this wasn’t really proof read either so if you catch any grammar mistakes, ignore it. also kind of a bad ending bc I had no idea how to end it truthfully🫡 let me know your thoughts! enjoy hehehe

——————————————————————————

thinking about nerdbf!sunwoo just fucking you so sensually slow and hard over your desk. he’d have both his hands on your hips, thrusting up into you over and over till you’re an absolute moaning mess. you are holding onto the sides of your desk for dear life as he is abusing your poor little pussy like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, like he has many times before. something was different about this time though. this time, he kept his glasses on. the other moments you guys were intimate like this he’d always make sure to take them off and toss them to the side, much to your dismay. you’d tell him incessantly every time you guys were together that you absolutely LOVED his glasses and thought they were one of the most sexiest things about him, and him telling you off each moment. to sunwoo, he thought you were the craziest person alive when you’d say that to him. he’d often have it in his mind that glasses made him way less attractive, thinking of them as a curse to deter as many women who’d show even a slightest bit of interest in him. until he met you. you who makes sure to tell him almost everyday how god damned good he looks with his glasses on. you who would beg like a bitch in heat for him to not discard them for once every time he fucks you. if it was any other day, he would have told you no.

but when you were in those tiny little cherry printed shorts that he loves so fucking much, and sat all snuggly in his lap, legs on either side of him, spread open with your cunt so close to his clothed cock, looking so intently into his boba eyes with your own e/c ones, he just couldn’t bring himself to say no to you anymore.

so here he was, finally giving you what you longed for in your six months together. him making you fall apart with each sharp thrust of his dick, and each sharp thrust making your body jerk forward nearly having you hit your head on the wall in front of you, but you were too lost in the moment to care. you were on cloud nine right now. after so much failed attempts trying to get your boyfriend to do this simple favor for you, you felt like the happiest woman alive. and not even going to lie to himself, sunwoo was too. he should have done this ages ago if he knew you’d be this fucking tight at the sight of just him and his stupid glasses. the way you were chanting his name like a mantra had him nearly over the edge. with a new found sense of adrenaline, he quickly pulled out ignoring your groan of disapproval and flipped you over, your slightly bruised-red ass now sitting on the wooden table with your legs in the air being supported by his arms that are hooked underneath them. he looks at you deep in the eyes as he starts to steadily snap his hips forward into your throbbing pussy again, throwing his head back for a split second and letting out a deep moan at how you squeezed around him, just by looking at his face. “God…fuck baby, you keep doing that…I don’t know how long I’ll last.” he breathed out. you were too fucked out to care though, your moans getting higher and higher in pitch every time the tip of his thick cock would hit that one delicious spot inside of you. you were in a state of total euphoria, your toes curling as you felt yourself slipping away. and with his pace deliberately getting faster, his face scrunched up in pleasure with those fucking glasses on making him look as attractive and as irresistible as ever, you don’t know how long you’ll last either.

@spidermarkmp, all rights reserved.

[bon2bonn]

Bang Bang

Agent!Charles leclerc X vigilante!reader X agent!Max verstappen , established!lestappen X reader.

Words count : 1.3k

*I'm in my lestappen feels 🤷🏻‍♀️

Warnings : guns , violence ,cursing?, knives, morally grey character, blood .

The gala was in full swing , high society with lavish attires and jewelry that screams "filthy rich" , the crowd chatting up , exchanging pleasantries and gossip , striking alliances and negotiating deals but that's what to expect from such gathering .

Up on the balcony overlooking the crowd stood Charles or more known as (agent Percival) looking as handsome as always adorned in a three piece black suit gaze Sharp and focused as he scanned the lively crowd before stealing a glance down at Max or (agent Emilian) who stood by the bar discreetly scanning every exit while keeping a keen eye on the flowing crowd all while nursing a glass of something strong and in his words "very much necessary to go through these kind of shit shows" smirking at his fixed cold stare that discouraged any of the ogling women trying to flirt or even try to strike a conversation with him away .

Nodding subtly at one of the fellow agents as he passed by him , taking a glass of champagne from a waiter standing by before turning back to the crowd once again , shoulders tensing as he felt a delicate hand sliding in the crook of his arm but her scent repaxed his worries but he kept his guards up . looking down to locking eyes with her gleaming ones , her signature red lips inviting him to steal a kiss and as bad as he wanted to it wasn't the time nor place , the black backless dress with long sleeves hugging her curves didn't help at all , with her hair descends down her back in relaxed elegant curles with two price framing her face , he scolded her in a defeated tone " amour " as she reached for his glass taking a sip and giving him an innocent smile as he gave her a deadpanned one back , sliding her hand out of his arm to reach up fixing his slightly crooked tie before settling it on his chest as she gave him a sly smile " hello darling , missed me yet? " His hand instinctively went to her waist moving subtly to shield her from any possible attack still keeping his disapproving stare " you know we do " before looking down and as she followed his gaze she gave a wink at Max who's already looking at them with fiery eyes before leaning up to whisper in Charles's earpiece "hello , my emil " looking back down rising the glass on greeting with a wide smile as he raised his with a smirk that slipped into a full grin for a split second before turning back to the task at hand leaving Charles for now to deal with whatever she doing there .

Looking at her he asked in a defeated tone "you're not supposed to be here amour , not tonight at least" she tilted her head to the side giving him a mischievous look "can't a girl have a fun night out , I even got all dolled up . What do you think?" He only tugged her closer leaning to voice to her ears only " you know damn well what I think , what we both think of doing to you right now Mon amour " and went on " but that's not the point , now tell me what are you doing here? " Giving her one more look he added "or should I say what have you done ? " She just shrugged taking another sip "nothing anyone can prove , so don't worry " , " but you know I'm always worried with those too many close calls " before she could argue back alarms went off cutting their chat short as the majority of the gaurds securing the exits starts heading to the west wing of the venue , the rest escorting the guests out in a haste .

" Well , this is my cue " She gave Charles his glass back "and yours too " then she leaned up close for the earpiece to pick up "I'll see you soon" before giving him a light kiss on the cheek turning to head to east wing dodging cameras before slipping into a dark corner .

With a sigh he turned to head to the closest exit tuning in with the rest of the team "where's our target?" Lando's voice came in " north wing , exit 3 , four guards and two on the lookout " . " Copy that" Charles answered followed by Max's curt "copy" before switching back to his Chanel with Max "she's probably out there causing havoc" who gave an amused Huff " you know her , never a dull moment with her around" before taking out his gun "alright, I got the target locked in position . I'll handle the gaurds , the lookout are by the fountain , I'll meet you in extraction in five" , "copy that" .

Taking up the stairs , one right and two doors down she reached her destination , picking the lock and straight towards the grand painting pausing as she took it in "an original" she mumbled before shrugging it down revealing a safe behind it 30 seconds to crack it open taking what she needs and 10 to hung back the painting giving it a pitiful pout "what a shame" then heading back out to go down the back entrance , but not everything goes as planned as she found two guards on alert right as she took the corner , one stepped out to grab her " hey! You're not supposed to be here!" . With one move she took him down throwing a blade at the second one before he could reach for his gun . And From the window above she saw Max taking down guards , and far enough there was a hidden figure lurking with a gun and she hurried to head out but not before leaving a little gift behind .

Max took down two , quick and easy , the third made the stupid move to face him and went down in a second , the last one took the chance to try to tackle him down but received a right hook that knocked him down followed by a swift bullet , that left the target, a cowardly man gaping at the falling men who were supposed to get him out safely before turning to make a run for it but didn't take two steps before a bullet Peirced the ground few inches from his feet as Max gave a warning shot "don't even think about it , I'll gladly put the next one in your head " and that got him to shrink and raised his hands in surrender , now with his hands tied behind his back being led out through a secret gate .

Both reached the extraction at the same time, finding the blackedout SUV waiting as planned , handing over the target , preifing is in two hours back in headquarters. and as the car rolled out a bullet shot through hitting the curb and before they could shoot back a thud of a body was heard , and as they suspected a small curved knive stuck out from the back of the shooter's neck.

A heeled figure emerged out before she bent down taking her knive out wiping away the blood with a handkerchief huffing out " it's rude to shoot people in the back " then throwing it away after . As she reached them she slips her hand into Max's outstretched one "Schat" he greets fondly then gave her a kiss in the knuckles before turning her hand giving her palm another one both turning to Charles who remarked loudly " it's quite , too quite" . That earned him a dazzling smile as she stepped away heading towards her car parked few metres away from the back entrance " you know me too well , I never go out without a bang" and as if on cue a loud explosion went out , taking down half of the venue in flames , and with that she blew them a kiss as she drove down the road .

[thetxtdevil]

Oh, to wake up and be called twin 😙😙😙

Anyway, here it is!

We all know, yeonjun has this whiny attitude right? However, he is the oldest and he tends to act maturely than others if he wanted to. Can you make someting about school student president yeonjun? Where he is the most strict school president the campus ever had. Then here's his vice pres, who balances it. Like, when yeonjun is too strict, she'd be like "that's too much, how about..." in the most gentle way. And theennn, before they can even leave the campus after being caught up on some works on the council office, yeonjun would be whining about these, like, "y/n, you shouldn't have changed the rules, they need to be punished because of what they have done" or something like that. But still, at the end of the day, yeonjun, he may be the president, but he is under the vice's power. 😋 like, she loves to play with and tease yeonjun whenever they are in the office, (i know you'll be adding the edging part 😳😋❤) and yeonjun is whiny whenever reader does this, but he still obeys. Hmmmm, but they do love each other. Being all time bestfriends with no boundaries 😭😆

- 👭🏻

Ooo twin this got my gears turning

---

"You did what to whom?" Yeonjun goes red out of anger.

"We might have toilet papered the head of the department's office thats why he's been strict about our publishing."

You giggle at the prank but look over worried at Yeonjun rubbing his face having a hard time not to lash out, "Why?" you ask

"We thought he's being too harsh" the younger students say.

It was true the head of the English department has been unnecessarily harsh on grading and simply on the students' lives. He was disapproving the fact that 'we have our own lives' and not truly focusing on work.

"Maybe we should not only being strict on publishing but no more access to the library" Yeonjun blurts out making the younger ones and even your gasp.

"Yeonjun, you can't do that they're in college the library has valuable resources" you plea, Yeonjun sighs trying not to look at your sweet face knowing too damn well that he'll melt.

Yeonjun rolls his eyes and waves his hand to let you approach the situation, "You're allowed access to the library but I want you to apologize and give your outmost respect to the HoD."

The students' tense posture relaxed showing their gratification towards you. You smile and walk away with Yeonjun.

Holding his arm you whisper, "You gotta stop acting tough or else no one is going to like you."

Yeonjun scuffs, "I need to show my dominance."

Both of you arrive at the empty council office, it was after hours, you both should go home too but at the same time both of you wanted to be together longer. Yeonjun starts his work on the computer immediately getting in the zone.

You walk over to the stack of papers needing filing, "do you?" Yeonjun looks over the desktop already forgetting what he said. "Where's all that dominance when I'm fucking you?"

Yeonjun's defined cheeks turn pink, thoughts of you runs through his mind. Thinking of you two having to reprint papers because they had both of you all over them, the time the janitor walking in see him tied up with his tie and you riding him on the desk, so on and so forth. He shifts in his chair looking back at the screen gulping down the drool forming in his mouth. You chuckle at his reaction, looking back at the papers which were starting to get less and less interesting.

You twirl around walking up behind Yeonjun's seated position, your hands on the arm rests as you hover over him. Acting like you were reading his words on the screen.

"You need a comma right there and change that to a period" you say leaning down so your breathe tickles his neck.

Yeonjun's nervousness was clear when his hands were shaking the mouse having a hard time pointing the arrow to the spot that needed to be fixed. He then feels your hand over his guiding the mouse to the right spot. You grin at his chest heaving, letting go of his hand you turn his chair around facing you. The man looks up through his eye lashes seeing your menacing grin. You straddle his hips determined to fit on the small desk chair. Your skirt flowed on top of each others groins, Yeonjun's hands instinctively guide up your thighs finding out you were wearing thin panties underneath. You kiss the man while slowly grinding on his growing hard on.

"Now show me that dominance you have."

A nuisance,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling

[clangenrising]

Month 14 - Newleaf

As usual, rumors spread through camp like a wildfire in greenleaf. When Sagetooth got back from tending the garlic patches, she immediately overheard Ospreymask and Branchbark whispering about something scandalous. 

“It’s just ironic, isn’t it?” Ospreymask was saying. “Like, he’s always getting on me for being too chummy with Pebblefall or whoever and then he goes and has kits with a rogue.” 

“Yeah,” agreed Branchbark, tail twitching. “I honestly don’t think it’s that big a deal, but it’s a little funny that it’s him. Like, I guess now he’ll get a taste of his own medicine.” 

“Who will?” snapped Sagetooth. Both warriors flinched, fur brushing up, and turned to look at her like they had been caught eating prey on patrol. 

Ospreymask recovered quickly, though. “Russetfrond,” she whispered conspiratorially. “He got Mystique pregnant.” 

Sagetooth sighed heavily. “That fool boy. What was he thinking?”

“Who knows,” Branchbark huffed. “Maybe he thinks the rules don’t apply to him now that he’s deputy.” Sagetooth wasn’t listening anymore. She stalked off towards her den, rehearsing the scolding she was going to give Russetfrond when she saw him next. 

She couldn’t believe it! She knew that the world was going insane these days - both Stormwhisper and Blazingbrush having broken the code and had kits - but if there had been anyone she had expected to stick to tradition, it would have been Russetfrond. He’d always had more sense than his mother. Honestly, Sagetooth liked the boy. It was that small affection that was feeding her massive disappointment now. 

She wasn’t expecting to see him in her den. He was talking with Oddstripe and both of them looked up when she entered. Russetfrond’s ears slid backwards in shame. 

“There you are,” she said, scowling at him. 

“Sagetooth,” Oddstripe started, surely about to counsel her to go easy on him, but Russetfrond raised his tail to stop the other healer. 

“It’s alright, Oddstripe,” he said grimly. “Would you give us a moment?” 

Oddstripe hesitated but nodded, lips pursed. “Alright.” Ears back against his skull, he slank out of the den, leaving them alone. 

“I can't believe you,” Sagetooth said. “How could you be so foolish?” 

“I don’t know,” he sighed, looking down at his paws. “I’m sorry Sagetooth. This never should have happened.” 

“Damn right!” she huffed, stomping past him to deposit her garlic in the herb stores. “Goldenstar has always had trouble respecting Clan tradition so I would have expected this from someone like her but you? You must have known this wasn’t acceptable behavior!” She sat down and turned to look at him, making her disapproval clear on her face. 

“I did,” he said, and Sagetooth was surprised by his melancholy. “I knew the whole time that it was wrong and I still did it. I thought it would be fine if I kept it a secret, as if StarClan didn’t already know. I’m lucky they didn’t pick a harsher punishment.” Despite herself, Sagetooth felt her heart soften. 

“Yes, you are,” she said firmly. “I’m glad you at least seem to understand what you did wrong.” 

“I do,” he nodded, meeting her eyes with a hollow, hopeless gaze. That broke her heart. That expression didn’t belong on his powerful face. 

“Tch, come here,” she sighed, spreading her tail to invite him close. He obediently approached and settled down against her flank, leaning down into her despite his superior height. Sagetooth stretched up to give him a few licks around the ears. 

“What’s done is done, kit,” she continued. “All that’s left is how you make it right. You’ve told Goldenstar?”

“Yes,” he huffed sullenly. “She said it wasn’t going to be a problem. I hate how accepting she’s being about it.” 

“It’s her way,” scowled Sagetooth. She pushed down the complaints she had that were begging to be voiced. Her duty now was to guide Russetfrond, not gripe about Goldenstar. “Have you tried convincing the kittypet to join the Clan?” 

“Yes,” he sighed. “She’s not going to cooperate. It was all I could do to keep her from taking the kits back to her twolegs.” Sagetooth growled lowly. Kittypets…

“Well, good on you,” she said definitively. “Once they’re born they’ll need a strong paw to raise them up. I’m sure you’ll be able to foster their loyalties properly and turn them into excellent warriors.” 

“Thank you, Sagetooth.” Russetfrond closed his eyes and leaned into her. She wrapped her tail around him and purred reassuringly. 

“It’s going to be alright,” she said into his forehead. “The Clan will be there for you. StarClan is forgiving. This is a blessing in disguise, mark my words.” Russetfrond grunted tiredly. The two of them sat there for a good long while, Sagetooth letting him take comfort in her presence. It was good, she thought, to feel like her guidance was needed again. 

She closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer to StarClan. Let him learn his lesson, she prayed. Let these kits be loyal warriors. Let their mother cause no problems. 

After a few more long, quiet moments, Russetfrond gathered himself and stood up with a deep, slow breath. “I should get back to work,” he said. “Sparrowpaw has a lot of training to do before he gets his warrior name.” 

“Good,” Sagetooth nodded. “Devote yourself to your Clan. It will make these next few months easier.” He nodded dutifully, looking a little less defeated. “And don’t be afraid to come to me if you need advice. It’s what I’m here for.”

“I will,” he said. “Thank you, Sagetooth.” 

“StarClan guide you, kit,” she dipped her head and he returned the gesture.

[dominimoonbeam]

To The Edge - 22

This work is mine and I do not give consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted without my permission. I am sharing chapters as I work on this story but it is copyrighted material that I plan to rework and publish when completed.

story tags: scifi romance, hijinks in space, rogues learning to trust, violence, blood, guns, death, explicit language, so much kidnapping,

Works organized and easily found over on the patreon. <3

TO THE EDGE - CHAPTER 22.

“I told you that trick shot idea was stupid!” Rory couldn’t remember the last time he’d laughed this hard.

“Eventually—” they started to argue.

He shook his head. “No, you did not get it to work eventually. You just sprayed a ton of bullets and managed to hit the target with one.”

“It was more than one!” They waved an arm back in the direction of their target practice. “You know you’re impressed.”

He was tired in the best way, in a way he hadn’t been in longer than he could remember. He was worn out just from having fun. They’d both done trick shots, competed in distance shots, and even done a bit of dueling. “I did so much better than you! I at least nicked the target every time.”

“What should I name it?”

Rory shook his head. He couldn’t believe they were still pretending their backwards shot was worth a damn. “Just admit you can’t do it, Stardust.”

They clucked their tongue in disapproval. “Don’t be sour just because you lost more duels.”

He held up an arm. “Okay, okay, I will admit you won more duels if you admit you can’t do that backwards shot.”

“Never,” they answered instantly. “You wouldn’t even try to be helpful!”

“I’m not wearing sunglasses to help you!” he said for the hundredth time.

They caught his arm. “Let’s just do a few more tries.”

He smiled and shook his head, no matter how tempting that sounded. “No. Even if we weren’t out of paint cartridges, we are definitely out of time.”

Stardust sulked.

“Trust me, you want to be out of here before the sun sets. This moon gets icy at night.” And they were both sweaty and covered in paint. He chanced a glance at them as they walked toward the ship. They were dripping in pink and green. “And really, at this point, I’m not sure if we could tell new paint shots from the old. You are covered. Although, I don’t hate that shade of green in your hair…” He reached out, rolling one paint-soaked lock around his gloved fingers.

They swatted his hand away. “You’re one to talk.”

“What? My hair? Oh shit… Did you have to use so much neon orange?”

“Orange is better than green. This shit might stain…”

“At least neither of us wore the jacket… We’d look like pirates in it if it was covered in all this shit.” And if that stained, it really would be ruined. No one but a pirate wanted to be mistaken for a pirate.

The gravel crunched and shifted under their boots. The wind had turned cold and the shadows long. It was going to feel great to get a hot shower and back into the steady hum of space.

“Cosmic…” they said, voice low, just as he noticed something was off.

He didn’t miss a step and neither did they, still walking that straight line toward their ship. “Fuck.” A figure was leaning against the canyon wall far off to the right, not even hiding. They wore gear for combat and a full mask, their riffle in their arms.

“To the right…” they said.

“Yeah, I see it… Just keep walking toward the ship.”

His heart pounded. They didn’t have any live ammo. They didn’t even have any paint rounds left. “There’s another one to the left,” he said, voice still low and steps measured. And there would probably be a third at the ship if this crew had the time to set up this trap…

“Who do you think they are?” Stardust asked and he heard the strain in their voice—trying to be casual when they too had to have realized how screwed they were.

“Probably bounty hunters… If we can get to the ship…” Two mercs stepped out of the shadows ahead of them and one continued right into their path. “Shit. Shit. Shit,” Rory exhaled under his breath. “Okay, so that makes four. They must have been waiting for us to come back…” he said the obvious to fill the space. This was bad. There was too much distance and open ground. If he had bullets…

“I don’t suppose you have any live ammo left on you?” It seemed worth asking even when he knew the answer.

They shook their head.

“Keep walking. Straight toward the merc in our way. When we reach him, you make a run for the ship. Don’t look back. Don’t stop. Just run for the ship and get inside.”

“What?” The surprise in their voice was a gut punch to his senses. “I-I can’t get in without the co—”

Rory scoffed. “Oh, bullshit, I know you know the code to the door. Why are you arguing? Run. They won’t shoot you if they’re after that bounty.” Stardust was still wanted alive. He checked often just to make sure.

The shooters on their sides aimed, guns humming with life.

Stardust still wasn’t running, keeping slow step at his side. He was about to push them when they suddenly jerked to the side, in front of him and up close. For one delirious second he thought they were going to do their stupid trick shot… but they had no ammo and they weren’t even facing him. Their back pushed up to his chest and their arms spread.

Rory ground his teeth. “Stardust…what the fuck are you doing? Move!” He grabbed at their jacket, smearing paint, and tried to drag them to the side. The ground shifted loudly underfoot in that little skirmish. It seemed to confuse the mercs too.

“You said it yourself. They won’t kill me,” Stardust argued.

His heart twisted in his chest, until it felt like it was literally clogging his throat. “That doesn’t mean they won’t shoot you on accident if you act like a human shield!”

“Just keep walking forward but keep me in the way,” they said, like there was any chance in hell he’d do that.

“This isn’t a fucking game. Run,” he practically hissed in their ear, trying to shove them to the side. Why? Why wasn’t he considering it? Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew this wasn’t the worst idea. The mercs wouldn’t risk shooting a Solinoh. He might be able to use them to get closer. But he couldn’t.

“If I move they’ll shoot you!” they snapped.

Rory was afraid those words and the sound of their voice breaking under the strain of emotion would be echoing in his head for the rest of time. They shouldn’t sound like that. They should have left him standing there and saved their own skin. “So what if they shoot at me?” he yelled and shoved them away from him. “Run for the ship and the guns.”

They stumbled forward, paused for a second and then mumbled, “Okay,” before bolting forward, not at the ship, but at the merc.

“What? No—”

Stardust, unarmed and covered in paint, rushing a fully armed mercenary was enough to surprise everyone standing in that valley. The merc dropped his rifle to swing on the strap around his chest when he reached out to grab the primer coming at him. They twisted sideways, grabbing his sleeve to pull him forward. They used his weight and momentum to unbalance him, press into his side and grabbing his sidearm off his belt. Instead of firing it, Stardust tossed it high over their head.

Rory Atilla had brought down a corporation transport with nothing but mining explosives when he was a teen. He had chased off pirates from his parents’ farm with a nail gun. He had gotten onto a ship and escaped his burning homeworld and been on adventure every day since. But when he darted forward, dropping to his knees to dodge bullets and slide on gravel, arm out to catch that loaded weapon, he thought this might be the best moment of his life.

All the best moments were right on the edge of being the worst.

His heart pounded in his throat, not for the thunderclaps of gunfire or bullets skirting his body, but because in his periphery he saw his Stardust grapple a merc twice their size and go down.

He twisted to the side and shot twice at one of the attackers, having to turn to find the others before he could even see if the one to the right had dropped or not.

“Stardust!” he called through the storm of gunfire, needing the confirmation of their voice but not getting it.

Something hit his chest hard enough to push him back a step just as he was standing but it wasn’t enough to stop him from shooting back, emptying the pistol and dropping the two mercs to the left.

His legs shook when he started forward again. It had all happened in a matter of seconds, from that first shot to this moment. But it only took a second to die.

Stardust was on their back in the gravel under the big merc, grabbing at his arms and shoulders, and kicking at the ground while he slammed his heavy fist down into their face.

Rory closed the distance, ears ringing. Why had they done it? Why had they taken the risk? Why put themself in danger? “Get the fuck off them!” he heard himself roar when he threw his shoulder into the other man, tackling him off of the primer.

The wind screamed through the valley, the sun dropping lower with every second.

He punched him, practically climbing him to stay on top in a mess of a grapple. He had to get this done. He had to make sure Stardust was okay. Were they up? Had they still been moving after that last punch?

Why hadn’t they left?

The merc fisted one hand in the front of Rory’s jacket while the other pulled a big knife.

Rory already had his hands on the man’s rifle, twisting it against the strap to push the nozzle into his stomach. He held the trigger down and a volley of shots competed rang out.

As soon as the man collapsed, Rory unclipped the rifle and put a few more bullets in him before making a quick turn to see if anyone else was standing.

No one was.

Not even his primer.

[crimson-kisses]

Hi, um, so I LOVE your writings on Prussia and Germany. Glad to know there are people out here still blessing us with yandere hetalia content. I find it interesting how you mention in Germany's oneshot that Prussia told him he should be harsher with you from day one... So, the morbid curiosity wants to know, pretty please, what that would look like in detail?

Thank you very for such lovely compliments, warms my heart, it keeps me going and pumped up for writing more! 🌻 I would love delve deeper into such concepts although it will be rather short and simple. Gilbert is a bastard when it comes to giving advices, it’s always a clean cut which he’s aiming for. 🐝✨

Warning: Contains usual yandere themes, mentions of violence and drinking.

🇩🇪

Beratung

The aroma of coffee permeates the air as he is pulled back by his shoulders, his head meeting a solid, sturdy chest while his brother playfully ruffles his hair. In that moment, he feels like a mischievous teenager caught in the act, rather than a towering young man he has become.

A small cough escapes his lips, accompanied by specks of blood staining the pristine white shirt, drawing a disapproving glance from his older brother. However, his brother remains silent for a while, taking deep drags from his cigarette as they both stand beneath the glow of a streetlight.

Ludwig winces as he wipes his bruised nose, attempting to compose himself and maintain a semblance of dignity. He is already embarrassed about being forcibly removed from the bar by his brother.

"Eine ziemliche Schlägerei, aye junge?" his brother remarks, exhaling smoke that twists and weaves into intricate patterns as it ascends, Ludwig pointedly disregards the accusatory taunt. Both of them hear a crashing sound coming from inside the bar, followed by the slamming of a door.

They catch a fleeting glimpse of Lovino supporting a drunken Florentyna, their figures visible for a moment before disappearing around a corner. 

"Was it him?"

Ludwig offers a slight nod, opting not to elaborate further, although he knows his brother wasn’t known to let such incidents slide so easily. It could work in his favor or against him.

The cigarette beneath Gilbert's polished boots is crushed, his gaze scrutinizing Ludwig until their eyes finally meet. 

"Well? I expect more than just a nod from you," Gilbert presses, his disappointment evident. It was far from ideal that his older brother had been urgently summoned due to a bar brawl. Damn it, that cantankerous bartender should have kept his nose out of it.

"Don't curse that old man in your thoughts," Ludwig winces audibly at the retort, confirming Gilbert's suspicion that Ludwig had indeed cursed out the elderly man for doing precisely what Gilbert had instructed him to do in such situations.

"Francis— that French Arschficker— was the one who started it all",

Ludwig's attempt to shift the blame onto Francis, earns him nothing more than an exaggerated eye roll and an indifferent look, further dampening his mood.

"I'm not here for a game of blame, Ludwig. What I witnessed was you nearly tearing Feliciano’s head off with a shard from a broken bottle."

In response, Ludwig merely huffs with pride, which promptly results in a firm smack to his head.

"Just tell me what caused all of this and who was involved. And don't you dare feed me some bullshit, you hear me, junge?" Gilbert's voice carries a stern warning.

Ludwig rubs the back of his head and his neck, his embarrassment growing by the minute. Here he is, being scolded by his brother in the dead of night. He wonders if Gilbert had been sleeping or simply lounging around, which would explain the presence of the cigarette.

When Gilbert made his entrance into the bar, there was a contemplative air about him. Swiftly, he had landed a powerful punch on Antonio, knocking him down, and forcefully slammed Francis' face against the wall. It appeared that he had been suppressing his frustrations and had finally found a way to release them.

"They were making comments about her," Ludwig admitted, studying Gilbert's expression closely. In response, Gilbert simply shrugged and let out a deep sigh.

"So what? They insulted your manhood? Is that what this was all about? Antonio is going to whine like a little bitch about his broken nose, you know."

"That would be Francis," Ludwig spat out the name as if it were burning his tongue, causing Gilbert to raise an eyebrow.

"He was... well, he kept going on about how I wasn’t experienced enough and how I couldn't handle her if it came down to it. He was insulting me, Brüder, and then he just HAD TO BRING UP SOME BURIED SHIT!! And then Lovino... that damn bitch had a lot to say about love and pleasure and shit”,

Gilbert simply let Ludwig vent out his frustrations in a stream of jumbled and incomprehensible sentences, while he attempted to wipe away the previous droplets of blood off his shirt. His efforts were futile, sadly.

"I just hate that I feel so inferior compared to them. I….. I don't know what to do anymore. Even she makes me feel that way, as if I'm just pathetic. I try to be patient, but Verdammt!"

"You let her think that, holding yourself back and all, don't you?" Gilbert interjects.

Ludwig runs his hand through his hair, smoothing it down after nearly tearing it out in frustration. He closes his eyes, admitting that yes, he does let her think that way. He holds himself back, afraid of scaring her or confirming the doubts others have about him. He nods in agreement.

"Well, then you're a dumbfuck. Stop caring about what others say and handle her directly. Put your foot down instead of tiptoeing around like an uncertain school kid," Gilbert asserts.

Ludwig groans in response, ignoring the intense stare from Gilbert. He knows deep down that it shouldn't matter what others say, but he can't help replaying their demeaning words in his mind. It becomes too much, especially when they start speaking about you, insinuating that he can't please you or even handle you. That's when he lost control.

When they began to critique your relationship with him.

"Lutz, it's not going to be easy to handle a fully grown woman if you continue down this path," Ludwig's hand descends slightly to his cheek as he attentively listens to Gilbert's words. "You have to be tough, be patient if you want that, but if you fold so easily, then you're in for a difficult time."

"It's not about them demeaning or underestimating you, shit."

Gilbert's lips purse as he opens a soda can with a resounding clang, swiftly followed by a massive gulp. His gaze fixates on the empty streets ahead, his eyes narrowing as he mutters, "It's you belittling and underestimating yourself."

Ludwig raises a brow as Gilbert grabs him by the shoulders again, both of them stumbling along the sidewalk. A couple of minutes pass as Gilbert empties the soda can and effortlessly crushes it in his fist.

"Some women require a bit of building, some require a bit of molding, and others a bit of breaking. Not everyone is made the same."

"I'm not... uh, I'm not quite sure about that," Ludwig responds, voicing his uncertainty.

Gilbert pays no heed to his comment as he continues, seemingly pondering how to ensure his brother doesn't mess things up too badly, or else he would have to intervene himself.

"That's the issue, you're not sure about yourself in the first place. Buckle up, Bruder. Your woman isn't going to be a walk in the park. She's bursting with passionate fire, and she'll end up stinging your ass if you don't get yourself together."

Ludwig remained silent for a while, his brows furrowing slightly as he walked alongside his brother. Gilbert's gaze was fixed on the moon, which hung in the sky above them. 

"We don't get to love so easily, Ludwig," Gilbert spoke softly, his voice tinged with a hint of melancholy. "We never had that privilege. For beings like us, humans have always been transient beings, fleeting like dust that settles for a few brief years."

Ludwig's gaze shifted to his brother, his features reflecting a mix of understanding and sadness. He knew that all too well. 

"You remember your pretty little Snow White?" Gilbert's voice took on a nostalgic tone, breaking the previous melancholy atmosphere. Ludwig turned to him with a bewildered expression, caught off guard by the sudden shift in topic.

"Bruder! That was different. I was a child!" Ludwig replied, his tone laced with exasperation.

"Well, you sucked at wooing a lady back then, and it seems you haven't improved much, maybe those cunts do have a point" Gilbert remarked, his words laced with a hint of mockery. Ludwig shot him an offended glare, but Gilbert responded with a half-hearted smirk.

"If I hadn't caught you being so captivated by that young Mädchen, I wouldn't have even known she was your type," Gilbert continued. Ludwig let out a frustrated sigh, 

"Okay, that's enough," he interjected, his voice firm. "Let's just go home."

"I even considered arranging a marriage between the two of you, you know, get you a wife," Gilbert added, his tone filled with reminiscence. "Do you have any idea how proud this old man was? to see his young boy finally muster some manly balls?"

Ludwig stared at him with a nonchalant expression, a look of surprise on his face. 

"What?"

His confusion is ignored once again.

Gilbert's grip only tightened on Ludwig's forearm, who had a hint of embarrassment coloring his expression. "My point is, it's alright to chase your romantic dreams and indulge in all that teenage shenanigan bullshit," he began, his voice tinged with sarcasm and sincerity.

"But now you're dealing with a strong-headed woman, not some delicate Victorian-era Snow White. It's okay to have lovey dovey expectations, but as a man, you need to stand your ground and make your intentions clear," Gilbert continued, his tone firm. "Don't play around or mess things up, Ludwig. Tread carefully, or you'll end up with a tangled mess of threads."

Ludwig hummed, his expression growing more grounded as he narrowed his eyes in deep thought. He absorbed Gilbert's words, carefully considering their implications.

"So, you're suggesting that I should be more assertive and dominant," Ludwig started with a thoughtful tone.

“I am suggesting that you don’t fuck around too much, don’t be too arrogant-minded or violent like that Danish imbecile or that Russian brute”.

The blond shifted awkwardly with his boots, gaze fixated on the beer stains which he grimaced at. His brother better not see that unless he wanted to hear another lecture.

He had heard Mathias bragging about his darling, apparently a daring young woman herself. Although his comments were, uh, quite something.

“And also, don’t think too much with your dick”,

Ludwig roughly choked on his own spit, taken aback by the unexpected comment.

Gilbert, however, responded with a dismissive eye roll. He casually took out the car keys from his pocket and opened the passenger door, signaling for Ludwig to get in, even though it was Ludwig's own car. Reluctantly, he made his way to the passenger seat.

With a smooth purr, the car’s engine roared to life and soon they were on their way to wherever Gilbert wanted to go.

“You gotta wait for the right moment to strike, bide your time patiently, you would be surprised what France goes through with his Dame or any other nation”,

“What did she do?”

Ludwig's curiosity got the better of him and couldn't help but ask eagerly, for someone who was commenting on his lack of experiences, it was amusing to know the Frenchman had issues of his own when it came to his darling.

Gilbert smirked, his eyes glimmering with amusement. "Turns out she's quite the escape artist. She's resourceful and has a way with words and her cunning mind."

Ludwig raised a brow in interest as his brother continued,

"The last I heard, she caused the poor man to have flashbacks when she decided to reenact the events of the French Revolution using a butcher knife."

The blond snorted, well that’s what he gets, as he turned on the radio to some shitty pop song.

“Really?”,

“Ja”.

The romantic man had gone on and on about how to treat a woman, wooing them and intending to jab at Ludwig's lack of experience when it came to such things.

That’s where the Italian brothers had joined in, with their unwanted advices which turned into passive insults. Soon enough, Antonio retorted how Lovino was like a neutered cat when it came to his bella. Which resulted in a furious bar fight which others joined in.

It hadn’t taken long after that, when Feliciano in his drunken confidence commented on Ludwig's misfortune with women. And how his darling would be better off with someone else.

This led to Ludwig's attempt to send him to the heaven above using a piece of broken glass shard, after punching the shit out of him.

A serene atmosphere filled the car as both brothers listened to the radio, only one of them was cringing with disdain at some of the lyrics. After a while, Gilbert started again, turning down the volume of the radio.

“That’s the issue with these so-called romantic nations, they don’t think critically when they need to. Diving head first into situations with a bleeding heart only leaves you vulnerable and not to mention, with a fucking mess to clean up after”.

“You gotta be careful and tactical, don’t let emotions and feelings cloud your judgment and think with a straight mind about how to tackle the situation”.

He gets a firm nod with a determined resolve.

The radio's volume increased again. Neither Ludwig nor Gilbert had spoken for a while, and the world seemed to be at a standstill in the late hours of the night.

As the car slows down to a crawl, Ludwig blinks in confusion, taken aback by the sudden change in pace.

Then, an overwhelming surge of boiling anger courses through Ludwig's veins, threatening to consume him. 

The frustration within him intensifies, and he clenches his fist tightly, wanting to shatter the noisy radio into pieces.

Ludwig quickly realizes that his dear older brother had carefully arranged for someone to monitor her every action, collecting any possible information and meticulously organizing every aspect beforehand.

“Consider this a tutorial, huh?”,

Even though it is late, he observes that you radiate a lively energy, your laughter echoing loudly. A rosy hue adorns your cheeks, overflowing with an infectious joy that fills his heart with warmth, you looked so beautiful, even with tired eyes and wild, messy hair.

He doesn’t register his brother’s words. No, his eyes are on you. And some piece of swine who’s holding you so intimately, brown hair and judging by the light, he had gray eyes. Both of you looked like a youthful couple after a casual date. He didn’t know who he was, was he your date or just some random cousin?

Nonetheless, he had to go. Cut out of the picture, burnt, for all he cared.

“Was für eine Schönheit”

Ludwig’s eye twitches with barely contained jealousy.

[do-it-for-the-fandom]

Cloudy With a Chance of Murder.

Part I: leaving the crime scene.

This was... well, it was more difficult than she had anticipated.

They had spent the last two weeks together. With his mother and daughter in Europe celebrating Alexis' graduation, and Kate being forced to serve out her suspension, they'd had the freedom to really dive into this honeymoon stage of their relationship.

Honeymoon seemed very accurate, too. With the exception of venturing out for the necessities - you know; food, fresh air, the occasional spot of sunshine - they had spent almost the entire two weeks behind closed walls of both her apartment and Castle's loft. Their homes were their sanctuary, a safe haven where they could just be; where they could kiss, and touch, and laugh without fear of outside judgement. So quickly, she had grown used to that, grown accustom to living life in Castle's pocket; never more than the flex of a pinky-finger away from him.

That was the first thing she missed; the proximity. He was still right by her side, but there was at least 15 inches of unwanted distance between them at all times. She was also suddenly so aware of how impossible it felt to look at him and not smile. She was constantly having to school her expression, to bite down on her lip to stop it from curling into an expression of amusement as he said something so typically Castle. His commentary about the weather girl's assets should have earned him a disapproving frown, not a stifled smirk, but she just couldn't help herself...

And Lanie was too observant for Kate's liking.

Something's changed, her friend had so innocently commented, setting off Beckett's spiral of doubt.

Lanie didn't know the half of it. Two weeks had felt like a lifetime and - in Beckett's mind, at least - nothing was the same. It never would be. She was equal parts thrilled and terrified.

Beckett slipped into her seat behind the steering wheel and slammed the door shut behind her.

"Woah!" Castle looked at her from the passenger's side. "You okay?"

"You need to cool it," she warned.

Castle frowned, confused and offended and... well, mainly just confused and offended. "What did I do? Was it my comment about Mandy Mich-"

"Lanie is onto us," Beckett blurted.

"Oh." Castle visibly relaxed and leant back into the seat. He chuckled and Beckett turned her head to look at him. "Lanie is not onto us."

"Castle, she noticed something was up within seconds of seeing us."

"Within seconds of seeing you," he corrected. "Maybe you're the one who needs to cool it," he joked.

"I'm trying but you keep..." Her voice trailed off.

"Keep what?"

She dropped her head back against the headrest, closed her eyes and let out a long sigh.

"God, you're not even doing anything, are you?" She opened her eyes and fixed her posture before raking her nails through her hair. "Okay, you know what? It is me. I need to cool it."

She inhaled deeply, then let the breath out slowly.

"I'm fine," she insisted.

They both knew she was anything but...

"Do I really get you that hot and bothered, Detective?" Castle asked in a low, lusty voice that sent a shiver down her spine.

"Castle," she whined. "Please don't."

He could see that she was genuinely worried, that the fear of them getting caught - the fear he had spent days trying to convince her was unnecessary - had returned with a vengeance. He wouldn't push it; wouldn't tease her anymore.

"I'll stop," he assured her with a comforting smile.

But goddammit, if that show of solitude wasn't the sexiest damn thing he'd done all day...

^^ how she feels when Castle respects her boundaries without hesitation or childish ribbing. Girl, control yourself!

[ynyaan]

𝙎𝙢𝙤𝙠𝙚 ༄ | 𝐋𝐨𝐤𝐢 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ࣪𖤐

𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 | 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | ♕

𝘾𝙞𝙜𝙖𝙧𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙚-𝙎𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜!𝙇𝙤𝙠𝙞 𝙭 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧| 𝙁𝙚𝙢!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧 / 𝙂𝙣!𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

Summary: You are at an awful party before meeting Loki on a balcony. You both share a conversation of tension and the smoke of cigarette. "I desire to learn as to why your voice is etched into the walls of my mind.”

.ᐟ 𝙏𝙚𝙣𝙨𝙞𝙤𝙣 / 𝙗𝙖𝙙 𝙗𝙞𝙩𝙘𝙝 𝙫𝙞𝙗𝙚𝙨

You were invited to a fancy dinner gathering. Granted, the night will be filled with disapproving stares and senseless rats that gossip and dance. The party is to be filled with discussions of wealth and flaunts of businesses.

You’ve decided to wear something strong and bold to the eye. A dress, a garment gracefully descending to caress the midpoint of your thigh. Something distinct, the design laced with small bits of shining gems. The color green, the color of money.

“Oh, come on now, let's us not be blinded by the truth! You ARE a child of wedlock!”

Laughter. Moronic rich people who have nothing to do but bring people down to get where they want to be. They provoke emotions to ruin reputations, a plan consisting of their followers, followers that have the task of laughing along brainlessly, like backup performers in a circus.

“Atleast I need not to suck my father's cock just to please him.” You spat, earning frowns and gasps around your crowd.

You were not born out of wealth like these people, but you worked hard and climbed the ranks to get where you are now. These people ridicule you to no end because they cannot fathom the fact you worked hard for something only they should have the privilege of.

You turn to your heel, but before walking away, “Oh daddy, will you give me more money if I take your length?” You hissed, enunciating each word with a baby-like voice, earning once more, faces filled with anger to the specific affluent.

You walk away, ignoring the whispers that grew loudly from the scene you've caused. You turn to find an escape, a window, a balcony.

Perfect. You sighed whilst entering the balcony that finally smelled like fresh air instead of fake money. You walked till you reached the edge of the balcony, smelling the cold air and enjoying the moonlit night.

You whip out a cigarette from your dress's pocket; you usually only smoke when you are pissed or generally just done with everything.

You bring it up to your mouth before realizing you left your lighter inside your bag. “Damn.” You whisper, biting your lip before hearing a soft chuckle, deep and low.

You turn your head and see a man dressed in a suit of green, hair slicked back, and smoke puffed out of his lips. He looks at you, his green eyes shining into yours, it was unreadable but his gaze felt dangerous.

“Your dress is charming.” He comments.

“Yes, well, it's wasted to the rats here.” You respond, not caring if this man could be one of them moronic people. He takes a single step closer to you.

“My name is Loki. Loki of Asgard.” Asgard? It must be a country you don't know of. “My father makes me come to these dull events for social 'interactions'." He continues.

“I assume you cheat out of it every time, simply by going here?” You guessed, seeing as he looked pleased here on the balcony.

He simply smirked in response. “I go by the name (y/n).” You say, deciding to share your name as a courtesy.

“Ah yes, so I've heard.” Silence surrounds you both, not wanting to question what he meant by that. You were frequently talked about, though it was more like being gossiped on.

You were getting quietly uncomfortable with the silence. You had nothing to do with your hands except hold your unlit cigarette.

Out of habit, you bring your cigar up to your mouth. The man beside you suddenly inches closer. He puts his free arm around and touches the other end of the balcony, locking you in without touching you.

He leans closer, faces inches apart. He then positions his cigarette with the one in your hand and shares the fire with you. Once it was lit, you bring it up to your lips and puff the smoke out, relieved you finally got to smoke.

“Thank you.” You say, suddenly feeling his arm move to your waist. You look at him with a questioning eyebrow. He moves his face away slightly. “Hmm?” You hummed.

“I must say I've heard stories about you. Fascinating that it leaves me wondering..” He cuts his sentence off and inhales his cigarette.

He takes his hand off your waist and takes your chin instead, tilting it slightly up. You smirked, opening your mouth ever so slightly, and Loki proceeded to blow the puff of smoke inside.

You inhale it, blowing it out of your nose simultaneously. “I wonder, what is under that false display of yours.” He finishes.

He releases his hold on you, moving his hands to the side of your neck. You feel him brush against your ear. “I want to open your soul." He confesses, whispering his words like a prayer.

"I desire to learn as to why your voice is etched into the walls of my mind.”

You stood there, frozen in place. You decided to puff another smoke, exhaling it out on his neck as his face was still beside your ear. “My my, you're one interested man, aren't you?” You teased.

He chuckles softly before standing up straight. He swiftly takes something out of his pocket. “Here, call me whenever you need me.”

"Let's talk soon." He hands you a card, which you quickly take. He turns on his heel, and just like that, your smoking partner was gone.

“How amusing.”

𝙒𝙖𝙩𝙩𝙥𝙖𝙙: Star (@_ynyaan) ───⋆⋅☆⋅⋆── 𝐼'𝓁𝓁 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝓁𝒶𝓉𝑒𝓇 <𝟥

[littlejuicebox]

I just want to stay in that lavender haze.

Pairing: Astarion x Original Female Character/Ranger AKA AstarionxWren Rating/Warnings: PG maybe 13?/ Act 1 Spoilers / Nudity / Sexual Tension / Gore / Angst / Anxiety / Cursing / Lae'zel being kind of a butthole Chapter number: Nine Word count: 3.9K Masterlist: Click here. Song inspiration: "Lavender Haze" - Taylor Swift Notes: I know only a few people read this series religiously but thank you! Wren and Astarion are my little lovely goobers and I'm glad at least one person loves them as much as I do. And I know my other work gets more attention, but this is my favorite storyline and I plan to continue writing it. That being said, if you do actually enjoy their story… I truly appreciate the comments on this fic and that’s what inspires me to keep writing them even though they don’t get as much traffic.

-----

After terminating the last few goblins, everyone recollected themselves outside of the dilapidated temple. A few healing potions were drunk, a couple of incantations were murmured and then the group turned to Wren with an expectant look, waiting for her next directive.

The half-elf woman never actually wanted to be a leader. But more than once, she’d had the damned role thrust upon her. It was becoming annoyingly, and unfortunately, apparent that this time would be no different. What was it about her that made everyone trust her judgement; why did they let her make the calls? Hadn’t Shadowheart been doing a fine job… couldn’t she just… keep doing it?

The tired little bird sighed, running her bloodied, callused hands through a mess of gut-splattered brunette hair as she looked towards the sky, quickly gauging the time. It was early evening by now. The last few rays of sunlight were glimmering upon the horizon as that soft blend of rose and orange began to melt into a deeper, star-speckled blue. The merry band of misfits had to accomplish two things at once by nightfall… so unfortunately, they would have to split up.

Wren rubbed at the jagged lightning bolt burns sneaking out from underneath her bracers; it hurt like hells. Her eyes glossed over the group as she took a deep, exhausted breath, and then muttered, “Well... I’m sure Halsin needs to get to Emerald Grove as soon as possible. Some of us should go with him and the others should swing by the bog to pack up camp and bring it all back to the Grove. We'll have to head out from there once we've all had some time to recover. Astarion and I will go with Halsin, the rest of you can pack up camp and then meet up with us.”

Lae’zel made it clear she disapproved of this call with a hissed, “Tchk! Why do we have to do all the grunt work, while you and your favorite vampire princess get the easier route.”

Astarion almost leapt forward to snap at insufferable woman, quite displeased with being called a princess. Before he could, Wren’s mouth hardened into a thin line at the challenge, and she quickly stepped closer to the Githyanki, tone dropped into an irritated hiss.

“You’ve been given more people than we have, Lae’zel. The Grove needed Halsin back yesterday, and Astarion is skilled at both downing and evading enemies… whatever we may happen to need along the way. The Archdruid can surely handle himself. As for the rest of you… Well, sorry to be the one to say it and to burst your little bubbles, but none of you aren’t quite as versatile as the two of us, and you all need one another to cover your weak spots. It isn't favoritism, it's pragmatism.

And as for me? I had my brain invaded and nearly fell to my death today… so no, I’m not interested in packing up camp and playing inventory manager right now. If that’s such a problem for you, Lae'zel, and you’re questioning my judgement, then leave my shit there for all I care. I have all I need in my pack... Or should I remind you, I'm not the one that insists on hauling a stone wheel all around Faerun when a simple whetstone would suffice?"

Wren and Lae'zel were roughly the same height; she stood nose to nose with the fighter, her two-toned eyes boring into angry reptilian ones. Gods, Wren was growing so tired of this. If no one else wanted to be the one to make the calls, then why was there always someone questioning her judgement?

“Oi, no worries, mate! I’ll take care of yours and Fangs’ stuff.” Karlach cut in, stepping between the two women, quick to try and ease the group tension. “Go on and we’ll meet you — the Grove has to be in an absolute state by now, what with Kagha and all her antics.”

Lae'zel spat at the ground and then spun away from Wren, and the two groups went their separate ways in silence.

-----

The short journey to Emerald Grove was a mostly quiet one. Astarion felt too mentally worn from all the revelations of the day to play the loquacious, flirtatious rake. Wren, on the other hand, felt absolutely shredded around the edges of both her psyche and her body.

The Druid and the ranger had a brief conversation about her father, but it soon became clear it wasn’t a subject Wren wanted to discuss for too long. She would trail off or become distracted during the conversation, her mind entirely elsewhere. Halsin graciously took the hint and let silence fall among the trio, chalking everything up to the exhaustion of such a tedious and gore filled day.

At the gates of Emerald Grove, many of the tieflings and a few of the druids welcomed the Archdruid with a chorus of ecstatic cheers. All three beings were ushered in with a smattering of hugs, thanks, and congratulations, which Wren numbly accepted and Astarion willingly played into. Halsin soon interrupted the small welcoming party and rushed to interrupt the ritual of thorns, unleashing a scary and very bear-like chastisement to all the participants. His thundering voice drew the attention of everyone in the grove, and Wren took the opportunity to quickly peel away from the scene.

Astarion’s eyes followed Wren as she headed towards where they’d rescued that Tiefling kid from the Harpies weeks ago. This was his chance; the other campmates weren’t around to stick their noses into his business. The vampire thought for a moment that he might try and use his body to lure information from her like a Harpy used their voice to lure tiefling children… and he quickly made his peace with that possibility. Whatever the method, the rogue had to act now, without the risk of outside interruptions. He had to pry some information out of Wren tonight.

The pale elf quickly trailed down the remaining stone steps while the other druids had their heads bowed, listening to Halsin's booming lecture. Silent steps led him around the curved pathway, down to the water bank. He thought he’d see Wren rinsing her hands and face, ridding them of filth or taking a small moment of silence to stargaze or smoke from that pilfered pipe. He truly didn’t expect to see a panicked little bird, tearing wildly her own armor, trying to rip it off. He stared dumbly at the wide-eyed and panting ranger, watching as she appeared to be in the middle of a battle with… well, herself.

Wren’s eyes snapped to Astarion, where he was frozen mid step, scarlet eyes assessing her hysterical movements. Suddenly, she called out in something between a strangled scream and a sob, shaking hands now pulling desperately at her chest plate, “Take it off! Take it off! Please!”

She fell to her knees, half in the sand, half in the water. Her hands ripped at the leather straps of her armor as she heaved. She sounded as if the weight of her armor were crushing her; she sounded as if she couldn't breathe.

Of course, she could breathe… she was speaking, after all. Astarion didn’t know what else to do but answer her pleading voice. So he moved forward, deft hands quickly unsnapping buckles and ripping leather pauldrons from the ranger’s shoulders. She gasped in relief, and without a word, nimble fingers moved down to snap off her chest plate and then quickly loosened the laces of her bracers.

His brow furrowed as he watched Wren’s face, still caked in goblin guts, with thin rivulets of tears streaming from her two-toned eyes. She clumsily slid her bracers off and threw them down into the sand. Wren was still heaving as she sank down into the earth and then suddenly, she was sobbing, her entire body shaking with the force of her cries.

Gods. This absolutely hadn’t been the plan; Astarion was, once again, totally out of his depth here. How did he keep getting caught in these ridiculous situations with her? None of this ever ran on any script he'd ever prepared for himself.

The rogue ran a stressed hand through his hair before he took a deep breath and kneeled beside her, placing his cold hands on either of her shoulders. “Darling, listen to me! Shut up, right now. Stop this instant or else the entire grove is going to be here staring at you in a few minutes and unless I’m horribly mistaken, you don’t want that. Wren, come on, that's enough!”

The ranger wasn’t listening; to be fair, Astarion couldn’t be sure she heard him in her current state. She was still crying -- well, wailing, really -- and the look in her eyes seemed a million miles away. He recognized that look, that feeling. It made his gut churn. The vampire began to panic; she needed to quiet down before this all became an even bigger spectacle, or worse, someone accused him of causing her pain.

“Darling! Wren! For gods sakes—“ The rogue snapped his eyes shut and plunged forward in a last-ditch effort. He smashed his always-cold lips into her always-warm ones, swallowing her insufferable cries, digging so tightly into her shoulders as if he were hoping to pull her out of her own mind with brute force.

They stayed frozen like this for several beats; time almost felt like it ground to a halt. Astarion could hear the half-elf woman’s heart thudding erratically in her chest and then, miraculously, slow itself to a steadier thrum. The vampire opened his eyes and pulled away to see the little bird staring dumbly at him, her perpetually berry-stained lips swollen from the crushing force of his mouth on hers. Wren blinked rapidly, but remained silent, before carefully lifting her hand out of the water and brushing it against her own lips.

“Apologies, darling, but I didn’t know what else to do. Now let’s get cleaned up and then we can chat about whatever is going on in that pretty but absolutely twisted head of yours.” Astarion murmured, quite ruffled, but still lifting himself to his feet and then holding out a hand to help the little bird up, as well.

The half-elf woman had apparently fallen selectively mute, but she nodded her head and followed the vampire as he dragged her back toward the grove circle.

He was still mad at her. Furious, really. He didn’t have all the words to explain why, but he felt she’d somehow been misleading or hiding things from him all along. But then again, hadn’t he been doing the same in so many ways? If he weren't outright lying, which he definitely had more than once, then wasn't he also concealing aspects of himself… just like she had? But somehow, despite the clear hypocrisy Astarion was aware of and chose to ignore, it still felt like a betrayal to him. And yet, even though she absolutely infuriated him… the way she looked in her panic plucked at his heartstrings and compelled him, beyond his better judgement, to comfort her.

Gods this was supposed to be easy. A nice, simple plan. But it grew increasingly complicated by the minute.

-----

Halsin kindly allowed Astarion and Wren access to his bedchamber. The bear of a man often preferred to bathe in the natural water source on the edge of the Grove, but he conveniently kept a tub for soaking within his personal chambers, more for his own rare moments of enjoyment.

“Thank the gods that the druid isn’t totally removed from society.” Astarion mumbled, after Halsin helped to fill the massive wooden tub with heated water and then politely saw himself out. He was about to have a lengthy conversation with Kagha… surely, they would hear the results later.

Wren hadn't uttered a single word, but she watched as the vampire moved around her, plucking jars from the shelf by the tub and sniffing them. Finally, he settled on one, and poured some of the milky contents into the tub, causing the water inside to turn a clouded haze of pale purple. Then, he spun to the little bird and clapped his hands in his signature, impatient chop-chop. “Well, come on then, darling. In you go."

Wren sat blinking at him, unmoving. Astarion scoffed and rolled his eyes, briskly moving toward the archer. “Little bird, surely you aren’t going to turn down the first real bath you’ve had in weeks and the only one you’ll get for who knows how long. Now enough of this. Arms up.”

The half-elf sighed and followed Astarion's order with heavy limbs. The vampire stripped her of everything besides her underwear and then tugged her with a bit of force, over to the tub. The rogue couldn’t help but admire the sinewy ripples of her back, and the freckles along her collarbone as he watched Wren remove her smallclothes and sink into the opaque tub of water.

The little bird closed her eyes and sighed as the comforting smell of lavender began to swirl around her. Wren allowed herself the smallest moment of bliss as she inhaled the relaxing tendrils of scented steam, but then she felt Astarion’s leg slipping into the bath with her and snapped her eyes open to stare at the silver-haired elf.

The man cocked an eyebrow as he assessed Wren’s wide, shocked eyes from where he faced her, now sunk chest deep in water, sitting on the opposite side of the tub. He huffed and leaned back in the bath as his long arms crossed resolutely.

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re suddenly a prude now, little bird. This bath is more than big enough for the two of us, thanks to the behemoth it belongs to, and we’ve already seen one another completely nude and in the throes of ecstasy. So, if you think I’m going to pass up the only luxurious bath I might get in weeks, just because you’re naked and in a sour mood, you’re dead wrong.”

Wren chuckled; Astarion smirked in response at the first sign of her potentially improving mood. And then the ranger gave a good-natured eye roll before she shifted over just enough to make a bit of room for the rogue’s legs. But still, she didn’t speak.

The vampire occupied himself with dunking a sponge in water and wiping the grime off his own body. After that, he grabbed a small wooden cup off the bath tray and rinsed his hair; pale hands moved to scrub more of that milky liquid through his blood-flecked silver strands. Astarion closed his eyes and carefully rinsed again, inhaling the floral aroma and ensuring he felt no more suds remaining in his precious curled locks.

When the rogue’s lids fluttered open, the little bird had already moved to scrubbing her own body with a sponge. With his eyes closed, Astarion didn't see that she'd been staring at him, admiring his little smile and the way his hair looked weighed down by the water.

Wren flicked her gaze toward the vampire and sighed; her mouth opened as if she were about to speak, but then she sighed and shut it again. A few more minutes of silence passed, in which both beings simply welcomed the heat as it eased the soreness of overtired muscles.

Eventually, the ranger broke the silence, her voice still raw and scratchy from the earlier episode at the shoreline. The pale elf's eyes were closed as he lounged in the tub, but quickly snapped open when his pointed ears picked up her quiet, shaking voice.

“There are many pathways to and from the Underdark throughout Faerun. Kol was out with his friends, exploring one of those pathways. Unfortunately, they’d picked one that led to a cavern full of Phase Spiders… not unlike the one we encountered down that well.

We were out hunting when we heard their screams and went to investigate. By the time we downed the spiders, Kol was the only one alive… but barely.”

Astarion passed the cup to Wren as she spoke, and a few more seconds of silence passed as she rinsed and scrubbed her own hair with the lavender-scented solution. The elf watched from hooded, relaxed eyes as the water ran down the woman’s neck, languidly flowing down to that little spot at the crook where two faint pinpricks blended into a smattering of freckles, before finally trickling to where her breasts hid under the clouded tub of water.

“My father and the other elders wanted to leave Kol there to die… simply let nature take its course. But a few of the younger generation, including myself, begged them for mercy and they relented. Kol spent a week with us before he was well enough to go on his way and return to the Underdark. But he didn’t want to go. Life isn’t exactly great for male Drows in Menzoberranzan, especially not a second son, despite the Baenre name. So, he left a coded note in the cavern in case any of his other friends hoping to escape came looking for him... and then he was one of us.

Father considered Kol dead weight… he was softer, an artist… he would often draw me pictures of squirrels or other creatures. He was about average with a blade and terrible with a bow… but he was talented in other ways and surprisingly kind. I’d never met a man with a gentle, soft-hearted nature quite like him. And he pulled a softness out of myself that I’d shoved down and all but forgotten when my aunt brought me to my dad.

My father never wanted to be a parent, he remained unwed and unattached for that very reason, but I was an unexpected consequence of his actions and well… suffice to say I didn’t always have the most tender upbringing. Neither did Kol, but he honored his own nature despite that.

Anyway, my dad wanted me to marry Zahara, my first love… or one of the other warriors. His priority was to guarantee my safety and status within the clan. Either Zahara or I were going to be the next elder when one of the clan members passed… so it was the most pragmatic decision. But I was uninterested; so was she… we’d had our fun, but the romantic love just never stuck between us.

Against my father’s wishes, I snuck away with Kol... more than once. We sometimes journeyed down into the Underdark, and he showed me around very briefly. I suppose you've never been, but it’s beautiful down there, truly. We would never venture close to the city; he didn’t want to risk being caught… turning from Lolth is unthinkable and unacceptable in their culture. But I know he missed the beauty of the Underdark… he drew it all the time.

Father eventually relented and gave his blessing for Kol and me to be married. He knew I would leave and marry Kol on my own, settle down in some small hamlet or within a city, if it ever came down to it. So, we were married one beautiful autumn day, and we spent five years as husband and wife until his own kin found him.

They tracked us for days, waiting for the right opportunity. Kol was ambushed; they found him alone by the river near where we’d made camp. He was drawing, practically defenseless apart from a small dagger. I had been hunting not far away with the youngling group I’d been placed in charge of. I ran to the screams, but he was already gone when I got to him... Minthara was among them, she escaped… but one of her siblings and a two of her cousins were less lucky, in the end.”

Wren blinked away tears that were just beginning to form in her eyes as her voice cracked. She inhaled a shuttering breath through wobbling lips. Astarion watched the little lip scar that he was absolutely obsessed with as it trembled and fought back the urge to move forward and envelop it in a kiss.

The little bird dunked her lithe hands under the water and brought them back up to her face, wiping at the final specks of blood still stuck to her forehead and cheeks. She missed the spot near her eye, and Astarion leaned himself forward, lifting his hand to gently rub at the stubborn stain with his thumb. His eyebrows furrowed as he struggled to process all the information. And then, he stuck his foot in his mouth.

“So… when you said you downed two of house Baenre… it turns out you didn’t actually mean your own husband.” He murmured, his hand lingering a beat too long on her cheek.

“No! What?!” Wren snapped, her own eyebrows crinkling together as she pushed Astarion's hand away from her face.

Astarion rolled his eyes and huffed, leaning back again on his side of the tub. Part of him wanted to back off, but the more insolent and hurt part decided to double down. “Look, you've been quite mysterious about all this, and one can’t help but assume things, trying to make sense of it all. You’re hard to read!”

“Have you ever considered I’m not here like a book to be read?” The little bird snapped, suddenly lifting herself out of the bath. Streams of water trickled from her dark hair down her naked, freckled body. Astarion averted his gaze, suddenly quite aware he'd made another misstep and unwilling to piss Wren off further with his wandering eyes.

She climbed from the tub and snatched a towel from the shelf, wrapping it around herself before crouching and rustling through her bag. Then Wren quickly pulled her chemise from the sack and threw it over her head. When she turned and looked at Astarion, the expression on her face was a heartbreaking mixture of disappointment and sadness. She heaved a heavy, burdened sigh as she slipped her camp shoes on and shoved everything into her bag before grabbing it by one tattered strap.

“Astarion…” His name on her lips simultaneously sounded like a song and a slap, “If you’d ever bothered to actually ask me about myself… I would’ve told you the truth. I would’ve told you anything you wanted to know… if you’d just asked. I felt it, that night you pried into my mind, after the first time we kissed, you know. Why do you think you saw primarily nature scenes? That Wood Elf you kept seeing? It was a nightmare… not a memory.”

And then she walked out of the room, leaving Astarion alone and staring up at the ceiling. The vampire ran his hand through his hair and then groaned, dunking himself under the water’s lavender-scented, hazy surface. He closed his eyes, effectively cutting his senses off to the outside world. For a while, Astarion considered staying like this forever… he didn’t need to breathe, after all. Perhaps he could just hide in the tub, senses numb, all alone. Nobody would miss him or come looking for him here… that much was certain.

But soon the bath water started to grow cold, his fingers began to prune, and the rogue’s discomfort forced him to break through to the surface — and to reality — once again. He stood and shook his head, spraying scented droplets around the room before gathering his own towel and wrapping it around his waist. Astarion sighed and sat down on a bench, pinching his nose bridge as he wondered what in the hells he should do now. His body was clean, but his mind still felt riddled with debris.

Perhaps it hadn’t been Wren weaving a messy web around him… perhaps he’d been the one doing it to himself all along.

[satrs]

Can’t feel my face - bllk x fem!Reader N°4

"FUCK OFF, HORNY DEMON",

Barou retorted. "I'm no damn amateur. That donkey is done for." Shidou raised a brow at that, shutting himself up, so he would save himself the trouble. Shidou then explained all the details of the fight and other stuff, also some tips against the Treasure he often had the chance to observe in action, since Barou's cut man didn't seem to be anywhere in the establishment.

Barou headed to the back, to get himself ready for the fight, leaving Shidou and Y/N standing. "That's all. We can go if you want too, ma", Shidou exclaimed, earning a disapproving shake of the woman's head, "I wanna watch the fight", she returned, voice laced with a curious undertone.

This managed to make Shidou's face light up, happy with the fact that she is now showing interest in the thing he is so invested about. His arm wrapped around her waist, dragging her to a free and comfortable seat to wait for the upcoming fight.

"Y/N!", a familiar voice, suddenly interrupted Shidou's and Y/N's conversation, causing both of them to look at the man the voice was coming from.

It was Sae standing next to the owner of the club, Mikage Reo. He looked over at them, confusion written all over his face. Shidou let out an annoyed huff, taking Sae's look as a sign to come over to him, which he and Y/N eventually did.

"Y/N? What are you-", "Oh this is the infamous fairy Y/N? You were the one who stitched up the horn dog over there?", Mikage interrupted Sae, all his attention on the young woman, purple orbs staring right back into her own. "Say, are you interested in doing that more often? You did a truly remarkable job there!", he exclaimed, moving over to Shidou to examine his injury, much to Shidou's disadvantage.

"I'd rather not", she answered with a nervous laugh, overwhelmed by the whole situation. Firstly, Sae being here and secondly, the richest man in the country right in front of her eyes? A bit too much for one day.

A small pout formed on the young billionaire's lips, "C'mon! You surely know me, right? I can offer you a big amount of money-cash, if you prefer." Sae shot Mikage a stern glare, pissed off by the fact that he interrupted him and also, why was Y/N here? With him?

"No, Reo. She shouldn't do this job, nor should she be here right now", he stated, his look causing her to look away nervously. Reo understood the situation that was unfolding before him, handing Y/N a card with his name and number engraved into it, hoping she would reconsider his offer, before heading off to his Treasure to make sure he is ready for the fight.

"What the fuck? So that's what you're busy with?" Sae was clearly pissed off. Why didn't you at least tell him that you were going to blue lock? He would've gladly taken you here himself.

Y/N didn't understand the reason for his mood. It should be none of his concern what she was doing and with whom. But why did she feel a tint bit of guilt in her stomach?

She didn't want to bother him, what bullshit, he thought. There is no way she could ever bother him. But for her sake and the sake of his and Shidou's friendship, he decided to flip it off.

„Whatever. You two have fun, I got something to do now anyway. But I'll drive you home."  Shidou tried to object, but Y/N stopped him, agreeing to the red haired's offer.

Soon, Reo appeared again, announcing that the fight would now begin. Everyone anticipated both of the fighters stepping into the ring, welcoming them with cheers when they appeared.

Barou looked different from before. His hair now down, some hair caught in an awfully loose ponytail he created. He was also stripped of his clothing, only left in boxer pants, just like his opponent.

He, Nagi Seishiro, looked different than you would imagine ‚ the Treasure of Blue lock' to look like. Hair white as snow, some of them loose over his forehead. His eyes were gray, and he overall had a bored expression on his face, even yawning.

This displeased Barou immensely, taking it as a form of disrespect. As the fight began, Y/N and the other guests were at the edge of their seat the entire time.

The fight resulted in a close victory for Nagi Seishiro, leaving the both of them with a fair amount of exhaustion.

As the both of them went out of the ring, Shidou accompanied Barou to the back while Nagi strolled right in front of Y/N's eyes. Their eyes met as they held their gaze until Nagi gave her a charming wink, a small, but visible smile on his lips.

Suddenly, Reo came back into view, directing Nagi over to where Y/N was seated. He introduced Nagi to her, but she was barely able to focus because of his appearance. Naked chest covered in sweat, rising and falling while catching big and quick breaths, he still managed to look into her eyes as if a predator would eye his prey.

And oh boy, did he find his prey. Nagi was mesmerized by the mysterious girl, yearning to know more of her, see more of her.

“She is the one you told me about?” the white haired male questioned without tearing his gaze from her.

„Yes, the wonderful Y/N! Our patch up nurse!", Reo exclaimed in a joyful manner, as if she already agreed to attend to the job he offered her.

During the whole conversation, Nagi's eyes never left her, either admiring her voluptuous body or mesmerizing face. Y/N herself found it hard to attentively listen, too distracted with the man in front of her, who's eyes sparkled with interest in her.

The both of them finally breaking their interested glares from each other as they noted a person walking up to them.

“Everything alright?” It was Sae again, questioning in a protective manner. He went on over to Y/N, putting his hand on her lower back, startling the young woman in the process.

Nagi was left unimpressed by this, still longing for the attention the woman had on him a moment before, desperately scanning her face to be met with her beautiful eyes again, exploring the depth of her iris.

“More than alright", Nagi stated while pushing his bangs out of his face for a moment in an attempt to clear his face from the remains of the aftermath of the battle.

His lingering eyes were still firm on the woman, causing Sae to grit his teeth. He didn't like the fact that this spoiled brat in front of him eyed Y/N up and down, ready to jump on her and devour her.

In order to get away from this situation, he applied small pressure to Y/N's back, motioning her to follow his lead. “Let's get you home.”

Regardless of her protests, he still managed to get her out of the establishment, ignoring her rants about wanting to stay there.

Arriving in front of his car, he left her standing in front of the passenger seat's door, not bothering to opening it for her. He went into his assigned seat, awaiting her to step inside the vehicle.

Despite her trying to get to the bottom of his behavior and actions, he purposely ignored her questions of ‚ what has gotten into him' or ‚ 'what his deal was'.

The drive has gotten quiet then, the only audible noise being the motor of his car. Irritated by his behavior, she grabbed her phone, trying to pass time.

Then she received a message from a familiar name.

Shidou:

It's not nice to leave without a word, angel face.

She felt guilt in the stomach for leaving Shidou without a word.

I'm sorry, Shidou. Sae really wanted to go. You know how he is.

Shidou: It's alright. See you around, yeah? Also, call me Ryusei.

Sae noticed her typing away on her phone, taking a quick glance at the device. As he read  Shidou's name on display, he felt a bitter taste on his tongue, unable to ignore. When did they even meet up? Did he already get into her pants? These questions filled Sae's mind, turning his attention back on the road,  pushing down faster onto the gas, causing the car to drive faster than allowed.

Y/N fell back into her seat, the impact of  the speed animating her to take a glance at Sae. Before she could snap at him, she noticed his intense stare glued onto the road. Nervously swallowing down the lump in her throat, she retreated her gaze back onto the road. A wave of relieve washed over  her features when the car soon came to a halt, softly falling to the front at the impact.

When she realized that the car halted in the parking lot of her apartment complex, she was ready to step out in rage, not in the mood to deal with Sae's attitude any longer. But her plan was canceled by Sae's firm hand taking a hold of the back of her neck, turning her head towards him and smashing his lips on hers.

This quick action shocked Y/N, but she still found herself returning the kiss, their lips sensually inspecting each other. She soon moved, making her way into his lap without breaking the kiss. Her movement caused Sae to let out a low and lustful groan into her mouth, his tongue soon gliding over her lips, searching for  her consent.

She gave in, letting his tongue enter her mouth, exploring every bit of her in need while his hands roamed her body, getting comfortable on her ass, giving it a firm squeeze. Sae soon broke the kiss, Y/N unable to process the reason for it.  His eyes glazed with need and voice filled with want,

“Get in the back.”

                                                ════ ⋆★⋆ ════

Meanwhile, Shidou was still in Blue Lock, mood falling with every second away from the woman. Barou noticed his behavior, questioning it. When he told him that the reason for his low mood is the absence of the young woman, Barou couldn't help but admit to himself that he wouldn't mind her being here too.

Even though she showed the King her fangs, he couldn't help but want to put her in her place, entertained by the idea of  her under him, claiming her. He was no blind man, clearly recognizing her eternal beauty, but he cursed himself in the mind for not being able to speak with her - alone.  He promised to himself  to take matters into his own hand the next time they meet.

To show her that he truly was the King, her King.

At the top of Blue Lock, Reo and Nagi made themselves comfortable in a private VIP Lounge. But neither of them were able to enjoy the show that was being presented to them by the attractive dancers, their mind being filled by the thought of one woman-

Y/N.

Even though Reo was holding up a confident facade back then, on the inside he was a tad bit nervous. He had never found himself being nervous around a woman, it was always the other way around. When he flashed them his handsome smile, and flashed his status around, he had them wrapped around his finger in an instant. But her? It was different. Even when she seemed nervous or out of place, she never lost that mysterious, bold and confident presence of hers. That was what made her so interesting, wanting to know more and more of her-never getting enough.   He really wanted,  no he needed, her to accept that job. If she would, he was sure that he would find himself in Blue Lock more often than usual.

Nagi was in no better condition. Her eyes that were glazed in curiosity, he could stare at them for hours on end, losing himself in them.  Not to mention her figure, clothes hugging her curves deliciously, making his imagination run wild. He needed her. Never did the young man had any interests besides boxing and lazing around. But now that she came into the game, he really wanted to play with her. And if she would accept the job offer, he would be able to get closer to her.

Maybe he would even purposely let himself get injured during fights, just to get patched up by her.

Shidou, Barou, Nagi and Reo found themselves a new eye candy, possessiveness filling their mind. They had to talk to her again. Have her.

Claim her.

                                             ════ ⋆★⋆ ════

One more guy left... hihi

Also, for the ones who don't know, a cutman is the guy who aids the Boxers in breaks, be it with injuries or needs. They can also be their trainer.

[pascaloverx]

Sweet Love

Summary: You're an up-and-coming writer, congratulations. To protect your beloved job, you're willing to do anything. Even strike a deal with the devil, better known as your sister's neighbor. You and Dean Winchester don't really see eye to eye, but in a moment of desperation, you agree to collaborate with him for a greater good.

Author's Notes: Many characters do not belong to me but to the Supernatural Universe (2005-2020). I hope you enjoy the fanfic's story. The fanfic will contain strong language and adult content.

chapter four chapter six

CHAPTER FIVE

The following days were calm. You and Dean exchanged glances when you met in the hallway of the building where you both live. You exchanged small kisses in the elevator, and when Sam was asleep, Dean made a late-night visit to you. One interesting thing is that since you started sleeping regularly with Dean, he has spent more time without bringing strangers home. And most importantly, your new book is going smoothly. This should cheer you up, but it doesn't. Because it means that when you finish writing the steamy parts of the book, this agreement with Dean will come to an end.

"Do you think your brother doesn't suspect anything?" You ask as you and Dean are coincidentally coming back from the grocery store together. Dean has his groceries in one hand and the other on your waist. He's leaning against the elevator while you're basically leaning against him.

"Do you really want me to think about my brother now?" Dean asks, his breath brushing close to your ear, and you smile awkwardly.

"We're in the elevator. Do you have a specific topic for now? Like what we've been doing together at night?" You turn to look at Dean, who looks at you with a mischievous gaze. You lean in to kiss him. A quick kiss, but full of passion. The truth is, there's chemistry between you and Dean, and spending time with him has been a good thing for you.

"I think we should drop off the groceries at your sister's apartment and head to the car. I think there are one or two things we can do there that will be good for your writing. A confined, tight space with two people. Sounds promising." He says between your kisses, which makes you giggle. Until the elevator door opens on your floor, revealing Castiel. He and Dean lock eyes, and you don't know what to do. Obviously, you step out of the elevator, and Dean follows suit, even though he hasn't shown any reaction since he saw Castiel. Castiel looks very handsome, with an elegant overcoat and a glow aura. But his expression shows concern.

"You didn't respond to my invitation, so I thought I'd come here to see if you…" Castiel speaks softly, as if gathering the strength to face Dean. Dean then stares at him, looking angry, and you wonder if it's a good time to leave the hallway and let them talk in peace. But Dean seems to read your mind and gently holds your hand. You wonder if he did this to feel support or to hurt Castiel.

"I've been busy. Damn, actually, I haven't been that busy, but you can imagine why I didn't respond to your invitation. Who invites their ex to their wedding?" Dean responds to Castiel, basically interrupting whatever Castiel might have been trying to say. You look at Dean with a disapproving glance.

"Do you really want to discuss this in front of Y/N?" Castiel asks, and you understand him. Their relationship is their business. As much as you're sleeping with Dean, it doesn't give you the right to interfere in his personal affairs.

"Actually, Castiel, I don't want to discuss this. I thought it would be obvious that I'm not going to your wedding but since I have to say it in so many words, I won't be able to watch you get married with someone else. I'm trying to overcome the hole you left in my life. It would be better if you respected that." Castiel looks a little saddened by Dean's words but shakes his head positively.

"I just wish we could be friends. But I don't think you're ready for that. I wish you the best in the world, Dean. And it was a pleasure seeing you again, Y/N." Castiel lightly touches Dean's shoulder and after the two exchange a long look. It's as if the tension between them is building up in front of you. A crestfallen Castiel leaves, taking the stairs instead of the awkward wait for the elevator.

"You could have been more delicate with him. Maybe he just wants you two to have a healthy end to your relationship." You say and Dean looks at you a little annoyed.

"Look, even though we fuck and get along well, we're not a couple. I don't need your advice. I am able to know how I should act in any situation." Dean is rude to you, which shouldn't surprise you but it does. You try to hide that you're upset by heading towards the door of your sister's apartment. But Dean holds the door before you can enter.

"What do you want? Insult me? Treat me like you just treated the guy who stood by your side for two years, even when you looked beyond repair?" You turn around nervously and speak with some anger but the truth is that you're not lying.

"I don't want to make the same mistakes, Y/N. I'm sorry if I was too frank or even a big idiot. I just..." Dean looks at you wistfully and you feel like he must simply be hurt. Which isn't an excuse.

"At the end of the day you're right. We're not together. You should do what you do best and go fuck everyone. Maybe then you'll get over what happened to you and Castiel. And if it wasn't clear, our agreement is over." You say looking into Dean's eyes and then you push the door hard and enter the apartment. You hear Dean call your name a few times, but you ignore him. Right now, all you want is a tub of ice cream and to watch a movie.

[kaziee2]

Not yet but soon

Summary: Reader a soft omega with a ready to kill alpha

Warning: Cursing, like really small violence, smug men

Pairs: [Alpha Yelena x Omega reader]

[Words: 2.4k] [A/n: not totally proofread, been in my drafts for like months, first ever writing a/b/o hopefully you guys enjoy]

“Yelena you have to let go of me,”

“No,”

“Whyyyyy,”

“Because I said so, I’m the Alpha..hmp,” Yelana complained with pouty lips, holding onto you tighter. 

You mentally groaned at her, after a minute of trying to wriggle yourself out of Yelena’s arms, you gave up and wrapped your arms around her, hearing a contented sigh from her. You look down Admiring her sleeping face, you never understood what made everyone so afraid of her. She is such a sweetheart. You both stayed in the same position until you fell asleep on top of her, cuddling to one another. 

It was late into the afternoon when you both started to wake up, neither of you wanted to leave the bed, but you knew you missed the morning report and most probably will expect a disappointed Fury, you wince at imagining his disapproval look staring at you. 

You looked to see your mate’s sleeping face, you savor the peace of the moment you and Yelena were in. These were just one of the rare times you both could relax without the thought of the world ending at every opportunity it gets.

But every peaceful moment doesn't last when suddenly you jumped out of bed surprised, when your door room burst open with a very angry looking Natasha. Her angry pheromones radiate around the room and you suddenly feel sick to your stomach. 

Yelena finally stirring awake when you suddenly jumped out of her arms, she instantly feels another Alphas presence (which she feels is familiar). She turned her head to face the door, ready to practically fuck up the person who dare ruin both her and your moment together but most especially for scaring you. 

Once Yelena sees Natasha at the door, she stands up and rushes to push her and her sister out of the room, trying to rid of the angry pheromones in the room. 

Once both were outside, you stared down the door feeling more calmer than you were seconds ago, the pheromones of an angry alpha still lingered in the air but soon it started to dissipate. You sat at the edge of the bed, hugging the blanket which Yelena uses often, her scent was strong on it. You can hear the bickering from the other side of the door, but you didn’t really delve yourself to know the reason for the outburst of the redhead alpha. You just laid down and waited for Yelena to return and fill you in.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?!” Yelena whispered with a harsh voice to her sister, “You were scaring (Y/N)! What is so important that you couldn’t have just knocked like any regular normal person would do?” she raises one brow while crossing her arms. 

“Well if you didn’t make me wait for you for fucking two hours in the training room, then MAYBE I wouldn’t be so mad,” Natasha with the same harsh voice, she points to her sister. 

“Pshh, I don’t need training, it's one damn day! I’m practically better than everyone here in physical combat, I’m at par with you сестра (sister),” Yelena huffs, “If anybody needs training, train the damn newbies. They have no combat training, go bother them.” Yelena was mad, she didn’t need this daily training all the time, her fighting skills are perfect.

“Yelena, you know damn well, we need to keep on training to better ourselves and for your information, those kids can technically still beat you up,” Natasha points out, “With powers maybe,” she hears Yelena mutter. 

Natasha thinks for a moment before having an idea that will surely get Yelena to train, “Why don’t you bring (Y/N) to train with us, they could just sit and watch us train,” she offers, “And why should I let my precious omega be bored to death with watching us?” 

“Why would they get bored, you’re there to entertain them. Flex your muscles, show your omega how strong you are,” Natasha says with a cogent voice. 

Yelena doesn’t seem so convinced but does think about it, you watching her, and her very broad muscles, you’ll practically drool over it! 

With one last attempt to get her sister to train with her, she gives her a deal she know Yelena would never refuse, “If you train with me now, I’ll let you beat me couple of times, to show off,” and with that Yelena agrees, “Not like I need that to beat anyway,” a smug smile on her face.

Natasha pats herself on the back on being able to convince Yelena to train with her. Technically it wasn’t so important and she could’ve just let Yelena miss a day at best, but nobody else was available or capable to match her hand to hand combat. Steve may be strong but his combat skills could truly need some work, she internally sighs at that. 

They both start to prepare themselves with Yelena going back inside the room with a smile on her face, excited to bring you to training with her (even with you just watching). Natasha, on the other hand, goes to the training room to set up a spot for them, since most likely there would be agents scheduled to train today.

The moment you saw Yelena walk back in, you knew something was up. She had this smug smile on, and her scent smelled of pride, now you're wondering what she's planning. 

“Detka (baby), change of plans! We’re going to train with my bitch of a sister,” Yelena announced while changing into her gym wear. 

“Don’t you mean you’re going to train with your sister, as you know. I am not an agent or an Avenger, I’m an assistant and you know how Maria feels about me joining your training sessions,” you remind her, Maria has always been so protective of you since you were the only omega female that has been hired into S.H.I.E.L.D.    

Yelena looks at you perplexed to why she would have to worry about Maria at all, “Oh detka (baby), you misunderstand me, I will be training with my sister, you will be there to accompany and cheer for me as I beat my sister,” you roll your eyes at that. 

“I guess it's fine. At least I’ll have a good view of something while waiting for you,” you purr your words while walking up behind Yelena and wrapping your arms around her midsection, putting your head to her shoulder, “None of that milaya(darling), do not start something you can not finish,” her voice held want but she held back. 

“We should go before my sister comes barging in again,” Yelena removes herself from your hold and holds your hand in her own dragging you with her as she leads both of you out of the room.

Upon entering the gym, you immediately recoil due to the smell of every alpha scent that hits you. It's not strong enough to make you want to puke but it does slightly make you dizzy. Yelena squeezes your hand to bring a sense of comfort when she notices you recoil when entering. You love her so much for that, she always knew when something felt wrong for you and would always try to help you feel better, marked or not.

Your loving gaze on her was quickly cut short when Natasha approached you both from the other end of the gym, “Yelena glad you could make it,” she said with sarcasm,”(y/n), it’s always nice to see you, glad you could come too, makes it easier for this one to comply simple orders,” she points at Yelena with a pointed look, “Well as you know Nat, if Maria finds out I’m here you're done for,” you smirk at her, “And you will most probably be sleeping on the couch for the month,” 

Natasha's eyes widen after some realization and now she looks absolutely scared, “Oh please don’t tell Maria about this,” she practically begs. 

“The black widow begging now, never thought I'll see the day,” you and Yelema both laugh at her, barely being able to hold it in. 

Natasha looks mad but keeps a calm and stoic face, “Let’s just start our training, come on Yelena. I set up a bench near out training spot, you can sit there (y/n),” 

When everyone was settled, Yelena walked over to you and kissed you on the cheek, “Watch me beat my sister,” she puffs her chest in pride, ready to show her mate how strong she is. You just roll your eyes at that. 

Few minutes goes by, and you’ve kept score on who won each time. You were about to score another win for Natasha when someone blocked your view, looking up you see a man standing in front of you, just by inhaling his scent due to him pumping it out to show himself off to you, he was an alpha. “Uhm…excuse me you’re blocking my view, can you please move,” your voice came out low, you were never good at asserting yourself. 

“What’s a sweet omega like you doing in a training room, hm?” he ignores your request and continues to flaunt at you. Showing his broad muscles, that just makes you want to gag, but you’re just too polite to do it. You give him a nervous smile, starting to get really uncomfortable with how close he’s trying to get to you, but you just keep on moving away until you reached the end of the bench you were sitting on. 

“Come on, don’t you want a strong alpha like me to take care of you,” he grins at you, “An omega like you need an alpha like me,” he gets closer to you prompting to wrap an around your shoulders, but before he could even get close he was quickly punched in the face, him staggering a bit to the left due to the force of the punch. 

“DON'T YOU KNOW WHAT A MATED OMEGA LOOKS LIKE! Ty sukin syn (You son of a bitch)!” Yelena yells at the male alpha, she was angry, angry like you have never seen, her chest was heaving and her eyes had dark intentions. 

You immediately snap out of your shock and stand between her and the alpha that was currently cowering in pain and fear. “Move out of the way omega, let me deal with this!” she yells at you, her pheromones overcome you, trying to make you submit but you stand firm. You felt if you let Yelena move towards him, there will be blood. 

Yelena growls in frustration that HER omega was protecting a piece of trash, she moved towards you but suddenly was held back, and she knew who the culprit was, her own fucking sister, “LET GO! LET ME AT HIM! I'LL SHOW HIM NOBODY TOUCHES MY OMEGA!” Natasha’s hold on her is strong, “YELENA! Calm down, just let him go, he learned his lesson,” but Yelena still tried to wiggle her way out of her sister's hold. 

From this point on, you couldn’t handle the stressful situation more so after defying Yelena’s orders is taking a toll on you. You immediately helped the male alpha recover and ordered him to get out, you hoped with him gone it would help relieve some tension in your alpha. But when it didn’t and you saw Natasha starting to struggle holding down an enraged Yelena, you took a more direct approach. 

Walking up to Yelena, she looked at you with anger and possessive eyes, you cupped her cheeks and kissed in the lips. The longer the kiss went on, you felt her body slump in ease, Natasha deeming it safe to let go, she did, and when she did that, Yelena quickly held onto you, Natasha took that as her que to leave both of you alone. 

Both of you only parted ways when needing to breathe became a necessity. Yelena looked at you softly, any residing anger in her had died down, she could never be mad at you, never at you. She loves you too much to let anything happen to you, and when that alpha started to approach you and started making you uncomfortable, she couldn’t handle it anymore and just marched her way to separate him from you, punching him just came to instinct. 

“I’m sorry moya lyubov’ (my love), I couldn’t bare the look at that svin'ya (pig) being near you and when he tried to touch, I lost it…oh I know you hate violence, bu-” you stopped her apologizing, knowing it wasn’t really her fault.

“I know love, I don’t blame you, it was probably my fault too anyway, I should have said something instead of just sitting there,” you kiss her on the cheek in gratitude, “Well he should’ve known better,” Yelena puffed her chess, and started to nuzzle her face in your neck, just right where her mark should be. 

You love when she does this, it always brings comfort to you. “I guess we made everyone leave,” you giggled softly when looking around the gym over Yelena’s shoulder. 

Yelena didn’t really care if there were other people around she just wanted to hold onto you and never let go. You quickly noticed how different she was acting when her hold on you got tighter, “Hey are you ok, what’s wrong?” you ask her softly. 

Yelena didn’t know when she started to feel this way, so vulnerable…she hates it and loves it all at the same time, she’s scared that the more she falls in love with you and you suddenly think she isn't a good enough alpha for you, it might just break her. She doesn’t want to lose you. 

“Yelena,” you gently called her and she looked at you, “Whatever you're thinking, it will never happen. I know you're new to this whole love thing and I know you get scared sometimes being soft, but I promise you, that I will always be there for you and we can explore the new things together,” you smile at her, and kiss her on the lips, but Yelena knew this kiss was different from the rest, it was filled with passion and love, and she loves the feeling of it. 

“I love you, my alpha,” 

“I love you too, my omega”

[wuahae]

CONGRATS AGAIN MY LOVELY SHING STAR BFF TWINSTER 4LYFER CAT!!!! im forever proud of u my lovely <333

hopefully i can send a little request of jacob (sorry i am in my crazy cobster feelings) + 8:24 pm + a library!!

(suggestive; minors dni!)

[20:24] / library

-

“jacob.”

there’s the distinct noise of your clothes rustling, wooden chair creaking as jacob leans over more, breathing in your scent as he nuzzles into the nape of your neck. “hmm?”

“jacob, not here.” a beat of silence, and then nothing. he shifts lower—higher, if you account for his hand on your thigh. you try again, voice wavering. “jacob.”

“yes, my love?”

“don’t ‘my love’ me!” you hiss, smacking him lightly. “we could get caught!”

he hums again, leisurely, innocently. “by who?”

it’s times like these you really wonder how you end up in situations like this. the only reason you were in this godforsaken (you can only hope god isn’t watching) library in the first place on a friday night was because you had this cursed essay due at midnight, and by the time you’d arrived at the library in the afternoon, you hadn’t even started. jacob had joined you around six pm with the promise of dinner together, but as the minutes ticked by and the essay wasn’t exactly writing itself, that promise seemed more futile by the second.

(“let’s go,” he’d said, tucking his chin on your shoulder as he looked over at your laptop. “you can take a little break to go eat.”

“i can’t,” you bemoaned, fingers clacking away at your keyboard, 15 separate tabs opened on your browser along with multiple other windows. “this is life or death.”

well, it might as well have been. this damn thing was worth 15% of your grade.

jacob then drawled out your name slowly, sweetly, and instinctively, you tensed. the cursor blinked on your screen, halfway through typing a word. a chill ran up your spine—you’ve known him long enough to sense danger before it came.)

and that was how the situation escalated to this, secluded in the stacks of the library, completely at your boyfriend’s mercy.

“we’re going to get banned from the library,” you manage to make out through breathless puffs of air and restrained whines as jacob inches his fingers higher up your inner thigh, tracing little shapes onto the sensitive skin. he sucks on the thin skin of your throat once, like a point of emphasis, before letting go to murmur.

“don’t worry,” he assures. “no one’s coming by here at this hour. and besides—” jacob makes his first bold move, his thumb moving up and brushing slightly over your underwear. “even if we did get caught, we wouldn’t get banned. the librarian loves me.”

he gives a little more pressure, a soft tug at the nape of your neck, and a soft moan passes by your lips before you slap your hand over your mouth, squeaking out whatever was left. “jacob!”

“so you do want to get caught,” jacob muses, warm breath twisting your stomach into knots. “i’m okay with that too, but you should have just said so from the beginning. we could have chosen a much more conspicuous—” he strokes you again, harder, and your legs spread involuntarily “—spot.”

“th…that’s not what i—” you try to say, but it all comes out jumbled from your cotton-heavy tongue, brain foggy as the ugly yellow library lights clash with the blue light emitting from the computer screen, half-written document staring right back at you. “you know i have to get this done.”

“you can spare a few moments to go eat, love.” it must be a talent of his, the ability to sound so sweet and kind even as he watches you dissolve away in his palm like wet tissue paper. no wonder no one ever believes you when you tell them of your jacob-inflicted woes. “you haven’t had anything since breakfast.”

“i had a—ah—a protein bar.”

jacob tilts your chin towards him with his other hand, a disapproving look. “now we both know that isn’t a meal.”

you choke back a frustrated cry, squeezing your eyes shut. “jacob—”

“why are you calling me that?”

“what?”

“my name,” jacob says, thumbing the edge of your underwear aside. your gut twists again, breath catching as he ghosts a finger over you, fully bared for him. satisfaction seeps and settles into him, even as he tries to keep up the innocent charade, the way he smiles knowing he has you right where he wants you. he knows exactly what to expect when he starts these kinds of things with you, having done so too many times before; this time is no different. “call me cobie, like you always do.”

this is it. this truly is the end for you. everything feels so loud—your restrained moans, the rumble of the air conditioning, the slip of his finger against you that only gets more obscene as he mouths at you. cobie is for when he’s normal, when he’s kind and gentle and the textbook definition of the perfect boyfriend, not when he’s like this, when he’s trying to unmake you until he’s left with only your want. it’s why you try your luck again, consequences be damned. (maybe out of spite, maybe to gain back some sense of control in the midst of his molding.) “jacob, i really don’t think that’s what we should be—”

“cobie,” he corrects, insistent. “say it with me. co—“ he draws out the syllables, sweet and melodic, hand slipping completely underneath your panties and pinching your clit “—bie.”

the surprised yelp that escapes you is unrestrained, unfiltered, the embarrassment rushing through your veins somehow just making the burning in your core grow hotter. “come on, say it,” jacob probes, and you’re fumbling to hold onto anything that can ground you: the chair edge, the table, the toned arm between your legs, flexing as he slowly drags you to a high.

“can you feel that?” he asks softly, palm pressed firm against you, slick and wet and desperate. he drags his fingers (the second is a new addition; he doesn’t miss the way your breath hitches) and lets them catch at your opening. your head spins, his fingers teasing around and never in. “looks like your body is honest even when you don’t want to be.” 

jacob lingers, pauses his ministrations for a moment too long, and you let out a questioning whine in response. it’s pleading, it’s instinctive, it’s downright humiliating, but it pales in comparison to the way you feel yourself clench around nothing, the way your hips twitch and jerk, rutting against anything he’s willing to give you.

“p—please—”

jacob grinds his hand down, sucking at a spot beneath your jaw that has you clenching again, words incomprehensible and slurred and almost piteous with how much you beg. he runs a hand along your jaw and guides your face to him once again, his eyes patient and giving, the meaning you know of far too well. he’ll give you what you need, if you give him what he wants. and he stills. “‘please,’ what?”

fuck it all. fuck propriety and what’s left of your dignity and fuck that goddamn assignment. you've had your grave dug—you have for a long time. all you needed to do now is lie in it. blood pounds in your ears, white noise buzzing through your body; the defeat forms heavy on your tongue, your mind hazy and scrabbling for something. anything. (desire is a potent thing, and jacob has always known just where to press to make you crumble.) “please…cobie.”

jacob’s hand traces your cheek gently, lovingly, as if you were the most beautiful thing he’s ever laid eyes on (you are. you always have been), and smiles. “that’s my girl. that wasn’t so hard, now was it?”

he pulls you closer, wrapping an arm around your waist as his fingers beneath you draw nearer once more, ready to plunge in and claim what’s his for the taking—

a notification pops up in the corner of your laptop, the little jingle signifying a new email sounding through the empty library. lolling your head against his shoulder, you move to catch a glimpse of what could possibly be sent to you at eight in the evening, only to see an announcement that makes you forget everything that was happening prior: good evening class. due to unforeseen circumstances, the essay final draft due date will be changed to monday midnight. hope you’re all doing well. happy weekend!

you both blink at the screen, frozen. jacob pulls his hand away from you, scooching his chair back to its regular place, but you’re still reading the email over and over again to make sure you aren’t hallucinating in a fit of hysteria.

“i’m not imagining it, right?” you ask jacob dumbly, pointing at the screen. “he really posted an extension?”

“yup!” jacob grins back. “isn’t this great? now we can finally go home.”

you shut your laptop, a sigh of relief heaving from your chest as you move to slip it back into your backpack. “thank god, cause even without what you were trying to pull, i really was not going to make it in time for—what are you doing?”

hand on the edge of your chair, jacob’s pushed you out slightly from underneath the table, kneeling to slip into the gap before pulling you back in. he places one hand on each of your knees, a distinct glint in his eyes. “well, we have to finish what we started, don’t we?”

fear. dread. a strange, twisted sense of arousal. “i thought you wanted to go get dinner?”

“i do,” jacob smiles, mischievous and teasing as he spreads your legs. pliant. “dinner’s right here.”