#so rose is forced to be alone once again while whatever this is passes or changes shape. idk

[lordelmelloi2]

🥲

[murdockparker]

Roses and Regrets - Part 1

Anthony Bridgerton x Reader

Summary: Freshly out of mourning, Lady Barlow, née (Y/L/N), makes her re-debut in society. If only she could simply ignore a certain viscount...

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: none. enemies to lovers!!

A/N: I didn't expect this lil requested fic to turn into such an event, let alone a multi-part story! so, you're welcome or I'm sorry?

next part

__

She was perfectly happy. 

Well, supposedly right now she wasn’t. 

Her husband, Lord Barlow, had passed away ten months ago, leaving her with an empty estate, a shiny title and more money than she knew what to do with. Lord Barlow was an old viscount, desperate for an heir and willing to do anything to get one. 

In came Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

Young, beautiful and well-bred, she was the perfect choice for any man of the ton. If only her father hadn’t a penchant for gambling. Perhaps she’d be married to a man more suited for her rather than the oaf of a dustbin she was forced to be with. She was no fool in believing in a love match for herself, rare and far between as they were, no, but she did have half a mind to imagine a kinder man as her husband. A man who perhaps cared even a little bit for her wellbeing. 

No matter. 

A dead man cannot care for her wellbeing either. 

“Lady Barlow,” a maid knocked, entering the ornate drawing room.

“Yes?” (Y/N) did not look up from her reading—the newest edition of Whistledown had just been delivered. While she herself was never one to gossip terribly, it was quite fun to keep up with the circus of the season. 

“Do you plan on attending the Danbury ball this eve?”

“I do not see the point,” she scoffed playfully, “after all, Meg, I am but a widow in mourning.”

“Perhaps her ladyship should reconsider?” Meg asked gently, placing a new pot of tea next to her lady. “I rather think it has been a socially acceptable amount of time since your husband’s passing.”

“If I am not to enjoy the perks of being a widow,” (Y/N) sighed, finally looking up at her favorite lady’s maid, “whatever is the point?”

“Perks that Viscount Barlow has graciously allowed you to use during your time of mourning—”

“The current viscount is all but twelve,” (Y/N) reminded. “He has no use for this estate in Mayfair until he himself becomes an adult, in which, I am sure he and his mother will come to make use of it. I believe if my maths are correct, that leaves me all of six years or so to use this home.”

“Forgive me my lady, but should you not be looking for a new husband, then?”

(Y/N) smiled at Meg. She enjoyed their friendship, her maid being only a handful of years older than herself, it made for a likely pair. “No one wishes to marry a widow,” she said simply, “widows are damaged goods. Every sensible man of the ton will be wanting a pretty little virgin instead.”

“My lady!”

“What?” She barked a laugh. “You know it to be true.”

“Regardless,” Meg said, clearing her throat. “Lord Barlow passed nearly a year ago, the period of mourning is rightfully over. You are expected to rejoin society.”

“Dreadful.”

“It is expected,” Meg repeated.

“It does not make it any less dreadful,” (Y/N) said. “Very well. Pull a dress and prepare a bath, it seems the ton gets to see my dreary face once again.”

—

Anthony Bridgerton was a man scorned. 

Particularly by his own mother in this very instance. How foolish he had been to share his intentions of marriage this season with her—for now she spread the news like a wildfire. Every desperate mama and her equally desperate daughter came flocking to him like bees to honey. 

It was only now, in the dark corner of the ballroom, that he found a respite.

“Looking a bit green, Lord Bridgerton,” a voice beside him called out. 

“I am not—” Anthony had huffed a reply before even knowing whom he was speaking to. “Lady Barlow.”

“I am shocked you can recall my name,” (Y/N) laughed over her champagne flute. “Considering how many new ones you’ve had thrown at you this eve.”

“You are out of mourning.”

“Is that a question?”

“It was an observation,” Anthony corrected.

“What gave it away? My bright dress? No tear stains left on my cheeks?”

“You are here, out and about,” Anthony said. “And, forgive me for not playing along with your delusions, but I do not think you cried much at all for Lord Barlow’s passing.”

“How dare you assume such a thing,” (Y/N) faux gasped. She had intended on pressing a hand to her chest. Intended, anyway. Somehow she forgot all about the champagne currently residing it her grasp. “Damn… this was a new dress too.”

“Good God,” he laughed. “First you are spilling all over yourself like a child and now you are cursing—tell me, do all married ladies act like you?”

“I am a widow,” (Y/N) had found a cloth and begun dabbing up the spill. It had only dribbled at most, but still, it was a new dress. “I rather think I can act the way I please.”

“Like a drunkard?”

“Like a free woman,” she said, fighting every childish urge to stick her tongue out at the viscount. “I am only here to show my face, prove I am still alive and I shall go about my merry way.”

“Lady Danbury is a widow,” Anthony noted. “Yet she still mingles with society.”

“I am not Lady Danbury.”

“You are not.”

“Do you not have young misses to go and woo?” (Y/N)’s eyes hardened. “Take your pick from the litter, Lord Bridgerton, any of them would be pleased to spend such valuable time with you.”

“Are you insinuating you are not?”

“I rather thought it was a statement, yes,” (Y/N) said.

Anthony’s eyes went only a fraction wider, nostrils flaring. “Well, if that is what you wish—”

“It is not a mean of wishing,” she laughed, “but really a necessity.”

“Good evening, Lady Barlow,” Anthony sneered, smoke practically coming out of his ears. If (Y/N) had half a mind she’d call for the authorities to put that fire out, instead, she simply finished her drink and smiled wistfully at the dancing ballroom, feeling fulfilled. 

—

Dearest Gentle Reader,

The season is in full swing thanks to the mark of Lady Agatha Danbury’s ball, a notable and traditional first event of the London scene. Eligible young ladies now on the Marriage Mart were enjoying their first taste at what fine society has to offer, however taxing or daunting it may be. 

Our resident Capital ‘R’ Rake, Viscount Anthony Bridgerton is finally deciding on a wife, surely making him the finest catch of the season. Matchmaking mamas and their young ladies alike were seen flocking to him like petulant children asking their parents for pin money, thanks to his own mother, Lady Bridgerton’s declaration of such an idea last night. The viscount seemingly had enough of the attention, taking like a wallflower and hiding away in the back of the ballroom near the end of the evening. 

His company? None other than Lady Barlow, evidently out of mourning as of last night. While the this Author is under good authority that the match between Lady Barlow and the late Lord Barlow was not a love match, given their fourty or fifty year age difference, it has taken the new dowager viscountess longer than most anticipated for her to get back into the season. A woman as young as Lady Barlow would be eager to find another husband to support her, but something tells me that she is quite enjoying her time as a widow and will not easily give that up. 

While this Author has very little idea of the actual nature of the relationship between Lord Bridgerton and Lady Barlow, it is only to be assumed that it is simply not a favorable one. The two were seen making a scene by the refreshment table, a scene that went unnoticed by many prying eyes of the ton, leaving Lord Bridgerton storming away and Lady Barlow with the winning hand. 

Good show, Lady Barlow. 

Lady Whistledown Society Papers

—

“Brother! You are in Whistledown!” Eloise sang to no one in particular. 

“I have no care that I am in that gossip rag,” Anthony ground out, rustling his newspaper. “I can only imagine it is just another advertisement of my search for a wife this season.”

“Er, yes, however—”

“However?” Anthony’s attention immediately shot up to his sister, newspaper be damned. 

“Who is Lady Barlow?” Eloise asked. 

“No one of importance,” Anthony could feel his temperature rising. 

“Lady Barlow?” Benedict laughed. “Is that who you were talking to last night dear Brother? Is she not still in mourning?”

“No.”

“No it is not who you were talking to, or no she is not still in mourning?” Benedict gave his brother an amusing glance.

“Oh, according to Whistledown—”

“Sister—”

“Eloise, you may not recall Lady Barlow, given you only just came out this season,” Benedict began, deciding that this conversation was very much worth his time this morning. “But she used to go by Miss (Y/L/N) before her marriage to the late viscount.”

“(Y/L/N)…” Eloise looked to the ceiling, finding nothing in particular. “Oh! Is she not the woman who—”

“I am taking my leave,” Anthony said abruptly, newspaper all but forgotten. 

“Escaping, Brother?” Benedict asked. 

“I have calls to make,” Anthony sneered, ignoring the pleased face his brother was making. “Excuse me.”

“It seems Lady Barlow is a touchy subject,” Eloise noted as her eldest brother left the drawing room. Benedict snorted. “What?”

“You do not even know the half of it, dear Sister.”

Anthony Bridgerton, did not in fact, have any calls to make. He had no impressionable interactions last night to warrant such a visit to anyone—the Queen was still in need of naming her diamond, after all—but he had no desire to stay and be berated by his family this morning. He truly had no plan, no thought in his head on where he was going, he just simply was. 

Apparently he was going to the park.

It was still early in the day, few people graced the park at such an hour. The few who did, however, were too busy reading the latest Whistledown to even notice him. Anthony saw a handful of post boys running opposite of his direction on his way here, it was only natural they scoped out this location. He knew it was going to be a problem the minute they finished reading—if Lady Whistledown truly wrote about him, which he had no reason to believe his sister was lying about, all eyes would be on him.

“Might as well enjoy the peace and quiet for now,” Anthony exhaled. He took a quick glance at his watch—half past eight. Hardly could he recall a time he took a turn about the park on his own, usually he was in the company of his family or holed away in his study worrying about expenses and the like, never did he take a moment to actually enjoy the grand weather such as the kind today. Determined to enjoy it, he sat down on a favorable bench and watched the birds swim across the pond.

“Unbelievable.”

He turned his head, only to find Lady Barlow dressed in a rather pleasantly pink dress and matching hat, a look of distaste on her face.

“I didn’t take you as the park-going type, Lord Bridgerton,” she nodded, folding her hands. She had been carrying a small red book in one of them. “Especially at such an early hour, too.”

“Lady Barlow,” he nearly sneered. “Can a man not enjoy the park?”

“Oh surely a man can,” (Y/N) agreed. “But you? You are no man.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“It seems to me that you’re sitting in my spot,” she ignored his quip, readjusting her stance in annoyance. “This is where I come to read.”

“Can you not read elsewhere?” Anthony asked. “There is an entire park at your disposal.”

“No,” she hummed. “Afraid not.”

“No?” He laughed. “Surely out of the entire park you can find a suitable spot to read your—let me guess—romantically inclined fodder?”

“Poetry,” she corrected, “and no, I cannot simply read elsewhere. The shade is just right under this tree and I rather like overlooking the pond between my chapters.”

“Shame I got here first, then,” Anthony clicked.

“You…!” (Y/N) scoffed, fighting every urge in her body to stomp her foot. “You are an impossible man, surely you know that?”

“I thought you said I was no man?” Anthony’s brow quirked. “Or perhaps I misheard?”

She scowled. “You are not amusing.”

“On the contrary,” Anthony leaned back on the bench, stretching his arms and taking his claim. “I find myself very amusing.”

A duck quacked from the pond, either laughing at the viscount or agreeing with him—it was hard to tell. 

“You leave me no choice,” (Y/N) said sternly, taking a seat on the other end of the bench—feeling worlds apart from the man on the far side. In actuality, it couldn’t have been more than two feet, three at most.

“Truly?” Anthony laughed humorlessly. “You cannot be serious.”

“Hush,” (Y/N) said, opening her book in earnest. “I am trying to read.”

While there had been no guns drawn, this was a duel, in every sense of the word. Both parties sitting still as statues, Anthony’s gaze trained on the pond, (Y/N)’s on her book. Occasionally, she’d flip her page to the next, huffing every time Anthony still did not get up and move on. 

Stubborn. Both of them.

“Will you be quiet?” Anthony said, growing exasperated. “I cannot think when you are breathing so loud—” 

“You wish for me not to breathe?” She shut her book. “I never anticipated you’d wish me dead—”

“Please,” Anthony said. “You know that is not what I mean at all.”

“I never know with you. You, Anthony Bridgerton, are an enigma and I hope I never have the pleasure of truly understanding you,” (Y/N) said, fingers whiting from her grip on her book.

“So you admit it would be pleasurable?”

She wanted to wipe that grin off of his face, how, she was unsure. Idly, she thought about how a good smack to his cheek would feel. Painful in the moment but oh-so wonderful after, cathartic, probably. “I am not getting up.”

“Neither am I.”

“I am willing to die on this bench,” (Y/N) spat.

“Funnily enough,” Anthony’s voice dropped, “so am I.”

“How are you to find your viscountess on this bench?” She asked, angling her body towards the torturous man. “Surely you do not expect her to just walk past?”

“I am sure I can manage,” Anthony said calmly. “Many young ladies will walk this way when they see me sitting here."

“Even with another woman sitting beside you?”

“I rather think they’ll find you easy to ignore, I know I do.”

“Ha! You are truly something else, Lord Bridgerton,” (Y/N) sat straighter. “Insulting a polite woman in public?”

“You are the furthest thing from polite,” Anthony leaned in. “Rude, ostentatious, quite full of herself—”

“Might I offer you a mirror?” The grip on her book tightened, cover bending from the force. “Or are you afraid you’ll see horns?”

“Oh, do they match yours?” He nearly sang. 

“Funny,” she clicked, finally setting her book down, lacing her fingers together in her lap. “You should run a comedy act at the circus, seeing as you are a right clown.”

Anthony stood up, whether by the force of his breath or sheer spite he will never know. “You are the most ridiculous woman I have ever met.”

(Y/N) met his height, now standing as well. “And you are the most irritating man I’ve ever had the displeasure of knowing.”

“I am going to walk this way,” Anthony said, forcefully pointing to his right, eyes not leaving hers. She did have the most remarkable eyes.

“And I will walk this way,” she pointed to her left, less force in her action but seething all the same. “Have the day you deserve, Lord Bridgerton.”

“Why you little…!”

She had already turned and stomped away, a fuming smudge of pink against the greenery of the park, growing further away with every step.

“What a wretched woman,” he mumbled, looking down at his watch again—nine on-the-dot. In the corner of his eye, something bright red caught his attention. Her book. She had left it behind.

Perhaps he would burn it.

Perhaps he would just put it in his pocket and carry about his day.

In the pocket it went. For now.

[little-diable]

A Sacrifice for Him - Dean Winchester (smut)

I'm finally back to writing! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

Summary: Dean and the reader get into a fight on a hunt, forcing them to part ways. But while Dean tries to drown his anger in beer, the reader is being kidnapped. Will they find back together to finally admit their feelings for one another?

Warnings: 18+, smut, oral (f), unprotected piv, mentions kidnapping and some typical SPN violence, friends to lovers, happy end of course

Pairing: Dean Winchester x fem!reader (2.9k words)

Dean had his eyes focused on his hands, on the semi-cold bottle of beer he kept clinging to as if it was his lifeline, saving the older Winchester brother from drowning. His heart was pounding, still fired up from the fight he had found himself tangled in, growling angry words at (y/n). Fuck, his words kept ringing in his ears, followed by the sobs that had clawed through her, angry tears that had rolled down her cheeks like wine staining a piece of linen. 

The evening had started like many others, with the three of them hiding away in a corner of the new bar they had stumbled upon. Once again were they trapped in an unfamiliar town, following clues to fight against whatever kept the people living here on their toes. While Dean and Sam were preparing to fight against a nest of vampires, (y/n) had focused on something else, something that had pushed them into their fight.

Sam had found shelter in the bed of a girl he had met that very evening, giving his brother and (y/n) some alone time, hoping that they’d finally get over themselves and give into the feelings they’ve been fostering for years. But their evening had taken a few unforeseen turns, forcing annoyed grunts out of Dean as (y/n) tried to explain her theories, thoughts Dean couldn't and didn’t want to follow. 

By now he couldn’t remember why he had been so angry, perhaps he had been angry at himself, for not being able to speak those words he had always wanted to speak, confessing the love he felt for her. By now he couldn’t remember what she had replied, why she had tried to convince him of the ideas keeping her awake late at night. 

“Fuck.” Dean threw his head back, eyes squeezed shut as he drowned his last gulps of beer. It took him a few moments before his eyes found the bright screen of his phone, freezing as he realised how late it was, as he realised how many hours had passed since the fight, hours since he had last seen (y/n). 

Without thinking twice, Dean dialled her number, teeth running along his lower lip, anxiously waiting for her to pick up. But she didn’t, forcing Dean to deeply exhale, thumbs flying over the screen as he messaged her a few words, asking her to call him back. His green eyes kept staring at the seconds and minutes passing by, minutes where he was met with nothing but silence. 

Dean anxiously rose to his feet, reaching for his car keys to drive back to the bar where he had last seen (y/n), where he had stormed out into the dark night, leaving her behind. He couldn’t help but curse himself for being this stupid, for giving into his anger, leaving her behind with tears rolling down her cheeks. His heart picked up its pace as he parked in front of the bar, giving himself a few moments to try and regulate his breathing, picking up on nothing but silence. He couldn’t listen to any music, not when his thoughts were running wild, painting pictures that had an awfully sombre feeling to them. 

She’ll be okay. She’ll be okay. She has to be. Dean kept chanting the words, dirty boots meeting the ground as he walked back into the almost empty bar. With his hands buried in the pockets of his jacket, Dean made his way to the bartender, staring at the elderly woman that seemed to recognise him, greeting Dean with a simple “Did you forget something here? I can’t promise you’ll find it, somebody most likely took it with them.”

“I’m looking for my friend, the woman I was here with.” His words had an unfamiliar tone to them, dripping with fear, with desperation. The woman studied him for a moment, palms pressed to the surface of the bar. Her eyes flickered to their surroundings, wandering to the booth where Dean and (y/n) had been sitting all these hours ago.

“She left a few minutes after you, I haven’t seen her since.” A heavy sigh left Dean, murmuring a small “Alright, thank you” before he left the bar once again. With his phone pressed to his ear, Dean made his way back to Baby, finding shelter in his car, back pressed against the leather seat. 

“Hello?” Sam’s tired voice rang in his ears, forcing Dean’s almost teary eyes to momentarily flutter close. “Dean? What’s wrong? It’s almost two am.”

“She’s gone.” Hurt flushed through him as the words rolled off his tongue, adding to the weight resting on Dean’s heart. His palms were sweaty, clearly projecting the fear he felt, the uncertainty making him tremble.

“What? (Y/n)?”

“Yes, fuck, who else could it be?” It took Sam a few moments to reply, Dean could pick up on a few rustling sounds, on an unfamiliar voice that asked Sam why he was leaving. 

“Pick me up, I’ll wait in front of the diner we had lunch at.”

……

Reader's POV:

She woke with a gasp, eyes shooting open, forced to blink a few times before she could adjust to her dark surroundings. Heavy breaths left (y/n), trying to move around on the chair she had been tied to. Her insides screamed at her to call out for Dean, hoping that he was close.

The memories of their fight kept flashing through her mind, forcing a groan out of (y/n), once again realising how heavy the tension between her and Dean was. Fuck, no matter how angry she was at him, she’d always try to reach out, wanting and needing to feel him close. 

“You’re awake, finally!” (Y/n)’s eyes found the dark ones of an unfamiliar woman, hands balled into fists to prepare for whatever may happen to her. Her heart was racing, pounding in her chest, unable to breathe through the emotions rolling upon her like a tidal wave. She couldn’t remember the last time she had been trapped in a situation like this, without Dean or Sam close, hell, she couldn’t even remember the last time she had been on a hunt on her own. “We’ve prepared everything for you.”

“What are you talking about? Let me go!” Her voice had a raspy undertone to it, making (y/n) wonder how long she had been out for. The woman’s laughter rang through the darkness, disappearing from (y/n)’s sight before she could ask another question. Panic flushed through her, spurring her on as she tried to tug on the rope keeping her tied to the chair, hissing whenever the rope burned her skin, leaving ugly marks. 

Before (y/n) could even try to loosen the rope she heard the sound of a metallic door being pushed open, exposing other women that followed the one that had spoken to (y/n) moments ago. She froze in her movements, wide eyes taking in the burning stake she could see from her chair. The flames kept growing higher, flashing through the dark night, forcing goosebumps to rise on (y/n)’s forearms. Was this hell? Was she trapped in another world she couldn’t escape from?

“The time is finally right, we’ve been waiting for this moment for years, and the second we saw you, we knew. You're perfect for Him.” The woman from earlier kept talking to (y/n) as a few other women freed (y/n) from the rope. Before she could try to fight her way out of their grasp, she was picked up by them, carried outside as they chanted words she couldn’t understand. 

“Let me go you freaks! What the fuck are you doing?” (Y/n) could feel the heat of the flames on her skin, making sweat pool on her forehead like raindrops falling from the sky. No matter how much she tried to toss around in their grasp, there was no way out for her, and slowly it began to dawn on her that she was their sacrifice, about to be tossed to the flames. 

“Don’t fear the flames, he is waiting for you.” She couldn’t concentrate on the woman’s words, could only focus on the heavy tree trunk being brought closer, forcing her against it. Once again they wrapped some rope around her body, binding a crying (y/n) against the tree trunk. Dean’s name left her lips over and over again, hoping that the older Winchester brother would come and rescue her. 

“Please, you don’t have to do this.” The whimpers rolled off (y/n)’s tongue like a prayer, hoping that the women would wake from their state, that they’d realise how fucked up this very situation was, but they didn’t seem to pay her crying any mind.

“We have to, otherwise He will punish us. He asked us for sacrifices, so we gave them to him.” A groan left (y/n), reminding her of the words she had shared with Dean, how she had tried to convince him that they were hunting down a satanic cult, picking up on the carvings they found, on the signs and symbols. 

The women began to form a circle around the burning stake, chanting words in Latin, words (y/n) couldn’t pick up on. No longer were they focused on her, leaving her standing in the pale shadows of the dark night. Once again she tried to free herself, tugging on the rope as tears ran down her cheeks, tears that only picked up their speed as she felt a warm hand finding hers, making her heart pick up on its beat. 

“We got you, sweetheart, stay quiet for me.” Dean’s voice rang in her ears, forcing her eyes to flutter close for just a second, giving into the relief she felt. The women kept speaking their prayers, kept singing their songs, not noticing how the two brothers freed (y/n), how they guided her through the darkness with quick and quiet steps, leaving the forest behind before the women could notice them. 

……

“Come here.” Dean was sitting on the all too uncomfortable mattress of her motel bed, arms opened. (Y/n) moved closer, freshly showered, in a desperate need to feel Dean close. Without speaking a word she crawled into his opened arms, head resting on his chest, limbs tangled with his. Both were caught in their thoughts, reliving the past hours, glad that the two of them got to share a room while Sam slept down the hallway. Dean’s hand moved up and down her back, enjoying the feeling of the soft fabric of the shirt of his she was wearing, covering her just enough to hide her panties. “I’m sorry, fuck, I’m so sorry for saying all these words, I didn’t mean them, I was angry, at myself.”

“Why?” The word was murmured against the fabric of his dark shirt, hand fisting his flannel, scared that she’d be ripped from him again. A deep, shaky breath left Dean, eyes focused on the parts of her face he could admire from above. 

“Because I’m scared about what you make me feel, it’s been years, and I’m still so fucking scared of what you’re doing to me. I can’t concentrate around you, fuck, every hunt we’re on I’m close to throwing a fit, because I’m so scared you’ll end up hurt.” With her breath hitched in her chest, (y/n) lifted her head off his chest, eyes finding his forest green ones. She reached her hand out to cup his cheek, feeling his stubble pressing into her palm. 

“I feel the same, always have. But I’d rather worry about your safety than not worry about you at all, Dean.” He stared at her for a few moments before he closed the gap between them, lips slowly moving against hers, testing the waters as if he was scared that he was trapped in a dream. (Y/n) was pulled closer by Dean’s hands finding the back of her thighs, making her straddle his lap, hissing as the fabric of his worn out jeans rubbed against the inside of her thighs. 

A few curses left Dean as her clothed panties met his bugle, rubbing against his hardening cock, desperate to be freed from the confines of his clothes. Their moans blended together, forming a sound so sinful they’d end up in the darkest corners of Purgatory. 

“I need to be inside you, finally need to feel you wrapped around my cock.” Dean’s words forced a moan to claw through (y/n), eyes wide as she was flipped around, landing on the mattress with her back pressed against it. She watched Dean pull his flannel and shirt over his head, rising from the bed to step out of his jeans. (Y/n)’s eyes couldn’t help but wander down to his boxers, taking in the sight of his cock pressing against the thin fabric. 

Before she could snap out of her thoughts, Dean had already pushed the shirt she was wearing up her chest, exposing her breasts to his glistening eyes. Their eyes kept holding contact as his mouth found her warm skin, sucking on her hardening nipples, kneading her flesh with his big hands. Fuck, the mere thought of ever missing out on this left her trembling, silently thanking Dean and Sam for rescuing her, for saving her from the high flames. 

“More, please.” Her whispers left Dean smirking, forcing him to kiss his way down her body, fingers moving along the outlines of her damp panties. Once again their eyes met as he pulled the fabric down her legs, nestling between them to push his mouth against her heat. Her moans guided him on, hand finding his hair to tug on his roots, to force him even closer as his tongue brushed through her slit. Dean moaned at the taste of her arousal, hoping that he’d forever get to cherish her taste, finding pleasure in the way she choked on her gasps, how she moaned his name. 

“You taste so sweet, I always knew I’d end up being addicted to you, sweetheart.” Heat flushed through her, urged on by his praises, by the words that left her heart racing and her walls clenching around nothing. (Y/n)’s eyes fluttered close as he pushed two fingers into her tightness, tongue pressed against her clit, teasing the pulsing bundle of nerves. He could tell that it wouldn’t take long for her to let go, no longer used to being touched like this, and certainly not by the man she had been in love with for years. “Want to feel you wrapped around me, want to make you cum with my cock.”

Another “Please” left (y/n), watching him free his cock, pumping himself a few times before he brushed his tip through her slit. Both held their breaths as he pushed into her, forcing her walls apart with a few curses rolling off his tongue. 

“Shit, I’ll never be able to stop fucking you, you feel so good.” Dean felt as if his soul was no longer part of his body, it felt all too unfamiliar to experience something he had wanted for this long, not used to ending up on the good side of fate, guided by a lucky strike. The sound of their bodies meeting echoed through the room, rough thrusts that left (y/n) choking and Dean groaning, hoping that they’d be able to last a few moments longer.

“Don’t you dare stop, I’m begging you.” (Y/n)’s words were murmured against his lips, chasing his mouth for a few more kisses as Dean pushed her closer and closer to the edge. His warm fingers took care of her clit, adding the right amount of pressure to push her into the veil of darkness that wrapped itself around her. With her eyes closed and her head thrown back (y/n) gave Dean enough room to suck on her throat, leaving marks she’d proudly wear the next morning, unable to stop her smile from widening whenever his eyes would flicker down to her throat.

“Come on, cum for me, doll.” Dean’s raspy words pushed her over the edge, moaning his name as he fucked her through her high. He didn’t stop moving, prolonging the moment for long enough, till he had to pull out, relieving himself on her stomach. Their eyes met, lips unable to stop themselves from sharing another kiss before Dean plopped down next to her. He reached for a tissue, cleaning her up with gentle touches, careful not to hurt her. 

“Thank you for rescuing me.” (Y/n)’s whispers forced Dean to open his arms, to pull her closer once again as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I’ll always rescue you. Tomorrow we’ll take care of these crazy bitches, I promise.”

[banditywrites]

Okay I kind of forget if I sent a prompt before, so ignore this if I did. But a prompt idea would be your “rush of rose gold” idea, where lance becomes addicted and doesn’t tell anyone.

I have had this written for a few weeks, but due to midterms, I was just able to fix it up a bit now for you! Thank you for this prompt!

Words: ~1995 (I can't seem to keep anything to the 1k I said I would)

Warnings: Addiction, withdrawal, mention of vomiting

Rush of Rose Gold

Lance drummed his fingers along his thigh. He felt Blue push at his mind, but he couldn’t tell what she wanted. He was trying to concentrate on the mission at hand. He really was.

It was tedious and boring, but it was still a mission. Voltron was acting as an escort for cargo ships in this sector. They had recently formed an alliance with a very nice group of aliens who had agreed to share resources with Voltron. In return, all the paladins had to do was make sure their cargo shipments made it from one planet to another.

Lance felt his fingers tapping harder as sweat dripped down his brow. He swallowed, trying to force away the feeling of his too dry throat.

He felt like shit.

But he needed to keep it together. Keep it together. Just for another varga or so. Then he could tell his team that he wasn’t feeling well and go back to his room and… and…

Lance felt a stab of guilt deep in his gut.

Nothing. It was nothing.

Not a big deal.

The alliance with the Nail’ne was new and they had celebrated it quite enthusiastically. At the party, Lance hadn’t had a reason to refuse any food or drink they passed his way. The little vial filled with liquid rose gold that a politician had slipped into his hand had seemed innocuous. It had felt warm on his throat and it wasn’t until the entire vial was gone that he realized it might have been a mistake. The world had gone fuzzy, and he found that he didn’t care. He felt great. He didn’t miss home or his family. He didn’t worry about the war or being the seventh wheel. He was just so happy.

That night, the team had realized something was off and Shiro, thinking Lance had willingly drank something alcoholic, sent him to bed with the instruction to drink water and sleep it off. Hunk had checked on him later. He remembered his friend asking if he was alright. Lance had been staring at the wall, drifting in a gentle haze, but he answered with a soft hum.

They all left him alone after that and he fell into the best sleep he’d had while out in space.

When he woke up, he thought he was dying. Shiro lectured him and he threw up in the corridor that day. They left him to his misery, telling him it would be over soon and to take it as a lesson to be more careful.

Lance snorted at the memory as he slipped off his helmet and attempted to wipe the sweat from his brow.

Be more careful. As if their lives didn’t always hang between life and death as they fought an intergalactic war with giant, robot cats.

He had first realized something was wrong when the sick feeling gave way to a sort of itching under his skin. At the next gathering with their new allies, Lance found himself searching out the politician. When he did find him, Lance had only stared, unable to say anything. What was he thinking? Finding this practical stranger again? What was he going to do? The stuff wasn’t alcohol. It was obviously something else, something stronger. The alien must have seen something in Lance’s tired stare because he winced sympathetically and slipped three more vials into thr boy's hands.

Lance had found a reason to leave after that, claiming illness, tiredness, whatever, it didn’t matter.

“Not all at once,” he had cautioned before he slipped away again and back into the throng of dignitaries.

When he got back to his room on the castleship, his hands were shaking. A voice in the back of his head asked what he was doing. This isn’t who you are, it whispered. But Lance shook his head and pushed the thoughts away.

Maybe I don’t want to be me all the time, Lance whispered back. It wasn’t a big deal. It was nice and warm and it made him happier and he could sleep after and he was so tired. He needed it to sleep. Sleep was a good thing. Just a little bit. Nothing wrong with it. Coran always offered teas to help them sleep, this wasn’t any different.

Lance opened the first bottle and took a small sip.

That had been weeks ago.

The vials were emptied after five days and he had told himself no more, but he felt so sick when it ran out. The team was going to realize something was wrong and the fear of being discovered sent him sneaking down to the planet’s surface, looking for more of what he needed. He didn’t know its name, but a description of the substance was enough to get him more. He found himself in the right part of town where there were plenty of the aliens willing to gift him portions of their stash just because they recognized him as a paladin. He probably should have worried about that, being recognized… but it didn’t matter. Getting more was what mattered. Not feeling like useless garbage all the time was what mattered.

Lance settled his helmet back over his sweaty hair. He was due for some more. He found that if he just took a few small sips throughout the day, he would be fine. But this mission was dragging on too long. He was glad to help, but it was just him out here. They probably didn’t even need to escort this cargo ship. There were no signs of Galra or anything. Lance sighed. He was the only lion out here, so, even though it was boring, he needed to concentrate and be ready. It wouldn’t look good if he messed up a solo mission.

Lance drummed his fingers along his armrests and gave a shudder. It was cold and he was feeling nausea beginning to build. As soon as he got back, he would tell his team he wasn’t feeling well and they would let him skip dinner and go to his room. He was allowed to not feel well. Fighting a war out in space was tiring.

By the time the mission was over, Lance was ready to crawl out of his own skin.

-0-0-0-

He was not expecting to meet Coran in the hangar. Just Coran. Standing and looking him over before breaking the silence.

“Will you come with me?” The Altean asked.

When they ended up in the medical bay, Lance nearly turned and ran. He had been avoiding this. Coran had offered to scan him multiple times. Every time Lance claimed he was feeling ill. Which had been… maybe too many days now. He should not have used that excuse so much. But Lance couldn’t let Coran scan him. He would find it in his system. He was sure to find it.

Lance tried to remain calm.

“What is it, Coran? I was just going to go sleep. I’m tired today.”

“I’m sure you are,” Coran answered before motioning to the exam table. “Have a seat, my boy.”

Lance laughed nervously. “I’m not sick, just tired.”

Coran looked at him and Lance didn’t know what the man’s expression meant. Sadness maybe.

“Lance,” Coran paused, motioning to the exam table slowly. “I need you to sit down.”

Lance did as he was told, forcing out a laugh again. “I’m really OK.”

Coran didn’t respond at first, but he pulled at his mustache and seemed to be lost in thought.

“Coran?” Lance finally squeaked out when he couldn’t take it anymore. The man stepped forward and looked him in the eyes.

“I need you to know that I want to help you. Remember that.” Coran raised an eyebrow and stared until Lance nodded, slowly, not wanting to know where this was going.

“I care about you, lad. I want you to be alright.” Again, Coran stared until Lance gave a slow nod. “It is because I care that I cannot watch you hurt yourself.”

“Coran?” Lance forced out of his closing throat. “I don’t underst-.”

The Altean reached into his pocket and pulled out a single vial of rose gold liquid.

Lance’s vision tunneled.

“Your team has noticed you acting differently. We are all worried about you. So, I began an investigation while you were away today.” Coran swirled the substance and it glittered in the light. “I found this in your room.”

“My room,” Lance breathed.  A thousand excuses died in his throat. Not mine, it’s not what it looks like, it’s not a big deal…

“Do they know?” Lance asked.

“I have spoken with Shiro. He agreed not to tell the others for now. We don’t want to hurt you or embarrass you.” Coran took a deep breath, “but I think you need help.”

Lance was starting to shake his head.

“Let me help you, my boy. Please.”

Lance felt his eyes burning and they stung like the rest of him. And it was all so stupid, and it wasn’t him, but it was and what did Coran think of him now?

“You’re not angry?” Lance shuddered out.

“No.” Coran shook his head. “Scared and worried. Not angry.” The man sat a hand on Lance’s knee stopping it from bouncing. The gentle touch sent tears spilling over.

“Coran, Coran, I didn’t meant to. I swear. It just happened. I don’t feel right anymore. And it helps and it makes me feel better and I feel like I’m dying without it and I don’t know what to do!” The words all tumbled out in heaving sobs. “I am so sorry. God, I’m so sorry. But I need it. I need it.” He was reaching for the tiny vial, but Coran quickly held it out of arm’s reach. Then, with five quick steps Coran was dropping it into the waste chute.

Lance jumped off the table without meaning to.

“No!” And he didn’t know what he was doing, because it was gone. And there was nothing he could do about it. He was standing now, his hands outstretched, panic gripping him. “I need, I need-,” his voice broke. His heart was skipping beats and he was going to die if he didn’t have-

Steady arms wrapped around him.

Lance let his arms drop to his side as he let out a strangled sob.

I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this. Don’t make me do this.

The arms tightened around him and a strained voice murmured into his hair.

“I know it’s hard to see right now, but you’re going to be alright.”

Lance was speaking aloud without meaning to, rambling and sobbing and being so very weak.

Coran shushed him, smoothing his hair down and told him he wasn’t weak at all.

“Please,” the man whispered. Lance’s arms clutched at Coran’s back as he felt his world slipping away from him.

“Help.” Lance choked. “Help me.”

Coran nodded and let out the quietest sigh of relief.

“We’re going to take care of it. You’re going to be alright. I promise. You will be alright.”

Lance didn’t understand how he could ever feel alright again. There were shadows bearing down on him and he was so tired and sick and nothing had been alright for such a long time.

“Lance,” Coran was cradling the back of his head with one hand, “it’s going to be hard, but you’re going to find the light again. Together, we can find it.”

Lance couldn’t see it. But with Coran holding him so tight, sounding so sure, maybe he could imagine the possibility of a life outside of the darkness he had found himself in. He had to believe that there was something outside of this misery. Even if he couldn’t see it now.

“Okay,” he heard himself rasp out. “Okay,” he repeated before burying his face into Coran’s shoulder. The Altean hummed softly and didn’t let go.

Lance leaned into the warmth.

[kitkatopinions]

Forgot to talk about something in my little new rw/by ep post. Spoliers for V9.

Ruby giving away her emblem. The thing is that while the general idea of it as Ruby losing more of what is iconic to her (Cresent Rose, emblem - I do wonder if she'll temporarily lose the cape) is a good one, it comes with two major problems that keep it from being as emotionally meaningful as it could be.

1. Emblems are a badly included piece of the world of RW/BY the explanations with them and in-universe references to them are nearly non-existent, leading it to feel like little more than an only sometimes useful design tool instead of part of the world-building and therefore also character building. This is very similar to weapons being named, it seems like an ill thought out 'rule' that was done for coolness sake alone that the writers never really bothered with making sense of or even really putting it in their work. Because no one in RW/BY has ever bothered to talk about where or how they got their emblems, what it means to them, or how much it relates to their identity, it leaves the inclusion here feeling like it's just symbolism for our sake and shouldn't matter to Ruby at all which makes her 'sacrifice' feel more like a random grab for any way to get what she needed. Like she could've just as easily taken off her choker and given them that, or sacrificed a glove.

2. The connection it has to Summer Rose. I believe Ruby's emblem is the same as the emblem we see on Summer's grave, which means we can pretty much assume that Ruby sees her emblem as connected to her mother. But Ruby's obsession with Summer lately still feels forced to me and on top of that, since Ruby has never actually discussed modeling herself after Summer or talked about the emblem being her mother's first, Summer having the emblem has seemed like little more than a blink-and-you'll-miss it passing thing and emblems have been handed down before (Weiss, Jaune,) so to me this also just felt like another casual design choice that doesn't matter. On top of that 'it's a symbol of a mother's promise-" Well whatever Summer said about it or how Ruby feels about it, I sure wish I woulda known before. This show has such a problem with actually properly setting things up and it leaves so many small moments like this feeling lackluster. Now that I'm meant to see this emblem as super meaningful to Ruby because of how connected it is to her mother, I'm left once again feeling like the Eleventh Doctor is wearing Amy's glasses. It's just an object I know the writers want me to care about, but due to the lack of work that was put into it... I feel nothing but annoyed, wishing they'd have either included it earlier or just not at all.

I feel like Yang could've just handed the teapot lady her jacket and been like "Uhhh it's a symbol of me staying warm in the snow" and I would’ve cared just as much.

[tenaciouschronicler]

October 13 2024 2009

Hey Nanna?

Hey Nanna.

HEY NANNA?!

UM EXCUSE ME WHAT WAS YESTERDAYS UPDATE!

Ok. ok ok. So inside the original Colonel Sassacres book Nanna wrote John a letter full of even more implications than what happened with Mom and the Jasper bunker. In this letter, Nanna states the book has some sort of journey that ended on her date of death. Potentially afterwards if Dad wished it. Firstly, I guess its not entirely strange for her to assume she would die before John came of age depending on her own health and age. But the way its framed leads me to believe their is some sort of, I dont know, cycle? predetermined fate? something! that Nanna was aware Needed to come to pass. And Dad knew at least some of it. Is that why hes so obsessed with meteor sightings? What does he know? What did Nanna tell him? Is that why hes unbothered by the existance of Imps?

Moving on to the real crux of it all.

"There will come a day when you will be thrust into another world ... a realm of Warring Royalty in a Timeless Expanse."

What sort of prophetic BS?! Has she been to Skaia/The Incipisphere? Did she hack into SkaiaNet or something?? How did she know! You are already dead (let alone fictional) otherwise I would shake you down for more context! But thats for later.

In closing, Nanna goes cryptic again and I am scrutinising every word. She feels as though she and John have already met and Will meet once more, again playing into my cycle theory.

Theres just so much going on here and I am full of exicement and frustration and I have so many questions!!! *exhale* Im gonna just go over some of the things she has underlined in the third paragraph. Get ready for dictionary time!

Agents: a person who acts on behalf of another or takes an active role to produce a specified effect. Most likely to be, seeing as this is a game of chess, the minor pieces (bishops, rooks, knights) that we have yet to see.

Exiles: person in forced or voluntary absence from ones own home/country. So far consists of Wandering Vagabond and Peregrine Mendicant considering their current location is future Earth and their names.

Consorts: significant person, typically spouse, to a reigning monarch. Surprise, surprise. Looks like queen pieces will be very important to the story though I wont discount kings getting in on the action.

Kernelsprites: entities that affect the Medium upon entry after prototyping that act as sudo NPC guides. Weve met them, sort of, but this implies a far greater significance than has been shown so far.

These first four, all in the same sentence, seem like they are going to play some major roles in the story and how it unfolds.

Underlings: a person lower in status or rank. Pawns or I guess in this case Imps. Described as toiling.

Denizens: inhabitant or occupant of a particular place. Does this imply beings outside of the chess game? Are there any on the planet below John? Described as slumbering (or are they awake now that John has arrived?)

These two are also in the same sentence and while are seen probably wont go too far beyond whatever their defined roles are.

These next four are 1. a doozy, 2. probably going to describe our four friends, John, Rose, Dave and GG.

Heir of Breath: (inheritor of life tasked with its continuance)

Heir- inheritor of a legacy with the expectation of continuance

Breath- that which enters and exits the lungs, life

Seer of Light: (able to see beyond the visible path)

Seer- one that sees, predictor of events/developement sometimes by means of divination

Light- (god theres so many) visible spectrum, device to start flame, understanding of a problem (as in enlightenment)

Knight of Time: (servant to the progress of existence)

Knight- mounted man-at-arms serving a feudal superior

Time- indefinite progress of existence/events in the past, present, and future as a whole

Witch of Space: (able to manipulate the expanse of space and its demensions)

Witch- a person normally associated with evil supernatural power

Space- a continuous expanse which is unoccupied, the demensions within all things live and move

There is a ton of speculations you can make with these definitions alone but whos to say Hussie will follow expectations. I added my own theories next to each title and Id love to read any others.

Ascend: to go up, climb

Probably the most clear definition as we've seen it in action with John and the eccheladder. However, it feels too simple of a process for how convoluted Skaia has been. Theres gotta be something else we are missing here.

Anyway, I hope you enjoyed dictionary time. Im gonna go ruminate on this some more while we wait for more updates.

[enig-og-tro]

The King

Had he been a good man? He looked down at his worn, aged hands as he pondered. He had been fair and just had he not. A fair and just ruler always trying to do what was right. But had he tried to do what was right for his people, or for himself? Lost in thoughts he gently turned his hands, almost as if to admire the weathered skin. The screaming outside brought him back to reality. In a daze he looked up from his hands and towards the big wooden doors that block his throne room from the rest of the world. Its through these locked doors he can hear the screams and the shouts from the battle he’s losing outside. Lost, he corrected himself, the battle was already lost. It had been lost before it even started.

He sat hunched over in his throne, the darkness of the room making him look even older than he really was. It didn’t use to be a dark room, for most of his life the throne room would have been lit up by braziers and roaring fireplaces. It didn’t use to be this empty either, but now he was alone. No court, no advisers, just a lonely king sitting on his throne. This throne, once the mightiest seat in the kingdom, now made him feel unbearably small. He couldn’t take it anymore, and so with some effort he rose up, and stumbled forward. With a thud that echoed in the silent room he hit an empty chair, which stopped him from falling all the way to the floor. Stupid, he thought to himself, weak, he shakily got to his feet. He wasn’t sure if it was the age or the circumstances that caused him to fall, he could hardly differentiate between them nowadays. Age had hit him suddenly, while young and with the world at his feet he had felt like he would live forever. The first gray hairs had shattered this belief. And now it was all gray. Had his youth been spent well?

The question had been gnawing at him for years. Had all that time spent with statecraft, all the wars, had any of it amounted to anything? Had he been a good man? While pondering this, his eyes fell on the chair that had caught him. He remembered who had used to sit in that chair. With dragging feet, he backed away from it, until he could see all the empty chairs forming a crescent in front of his empty throne. He remembered them all. Traitors and cowards, a spark of anger ignited in his chest. They had sworn themselves to the kingdom, to him. And yet now their chairs sat empty. When the cause seemed lost, and the end came closer they had run. Many of them he had considered friends, but now even they had abandoned him when he needed them. With a wail of anger and grief he grabbed the closest chair and flung it back. It hit the wall almost inaudibly. The sound of the battle now close enough to drown out whatever sound it had made. The spark of anger died as he listened to the sound of fighting and dying outside. Could he blame them for fleeing from this? Wouldn’t he have done the same? He looked at the empty chairs again, wishing that at least one had not been empty. That he would not have had to wait for the end alone.

The walls echoed his footsteps as he started pacing. He had always paced when he was restless, walking helped him think he would always say. Making sure to never get too close to the locked door, he walked around his throne room deep in thoughts about all that had led him here, to this moment. This room had once been filled with people nervously awaiting his judgment. Now there was only him waiting for judgment. His throne room had become his prison, its splendid walls his cell. But judgment had already been passed on him. That’s why this was all happening was it not? So, he was not awaiting his judgment here, but his punishment. He froze as this new thought forced itself upon him. This was his cell as he awaited his execution. Like so many wicked people before him, this would be his fate. Did he deserve it? Had he not been a good man? A loud bang drew his attention to the door. The battle was over, and the executioners were here.

And it dawned on him that they did not care if he had been a good man or a wicked one. Another bang, and the door shook. His life, his actions, everything that had happened, he could not change those. With a sudden burst of conviction, he sprang towards his throne, and climbed the steps up to it. The wood of the armrest felt smooth under his hand as he caressed it. It had been his lifelong companion, and it was right that it would witness his end. His end, he thought, the only thing that remained. Another, louder bang, the doors cracked and splintered in protest, but still held. His hand reached down next to the throne and grasped the hilt of his sword. It was dusty when he brought it up, it had been years since he had held it. With one aged hand he held the blade up to his face, and with the other he brushed the dust off. The eyes that reflected from the steel blade were younger, the skin around them less worn, and it was as if the sword glinted with sunlight from a day long ago lost. And for a moment he felt once more like he would live forever. But the sunlight died and was swallowed up by the darkness of his throne room. The door finally gave and crashed to the floor. Sword in hand he spun around and prepared to face his executioners. His courage waned and died, his hands shaking as he gripped the hilt tightly. He wanted to be brave, but the question kept repeating in his mind. Had he been a good man?

[seijorhi]

Inexorable ♕

My birthday present for my beloved wife @iwaasfairy​ and my contribution to her birthday bash collab you can find here. I love you, you’re incredible and I hope you like this i even wrote smut for you smh

Iwaizumi Hajime x female reader

tw: dub-con, stalking, unhealthy relationships, very questionable decision making, smut, nsfw, um... implied murder?

He’s sitting on the steps outside your apartment when you get home from work, a lit cigarette dangling between long fingers. He brings it to his lips, the bright cherry red tip glowing as he takes a nice, slow drag and you scurry on past.

Not a word passes between the two of you, but olive eyes follow you up the stairs regardless, just like always. His name is Iwaizumi – Iwa – but you only know that because you’ve heard his friends yelling it down the hallway. In the three months since you’ve moved in, you haven’t so much as introduced yourself to the guy, but like most strangers crammed into the same shitty place there’s some kind of a routine between the two of you.

Why he religiously chooses this time of night to take his smoke break is beyond you, but like clockwork you’ll arrive home, having walked back from the bus stop and Iwaizumi’ll be there waiting for you, cigarette in hand.

Well, not waiting, just… there. Black leather jacket with a hoodie underneath, there’s a cut above his eyebrow tonight that he hasn’t bothered to clean, a purpling bruise colouring his jaw. Whatever dealings Iwaizumi’s tangled up in, you don’t like to think about too much, but you know it can’t be anything good. His friends dress like him, all have the same ‘don’t fuck with me’ vibe. You’ve seen their scrapes and bruises too – the weapons that stick out from the waistband of their pants – though you’re always quick to avert your eyes when they catch you staring.

You’ve heard them snickering about it when you hastily dart past, all but slamming your front door shut. 

And it’s not that you’re scared of him. There are people who play at being dangerous, and ones who are. Iwaizumi doesn’t strike you as somebody who enjoys playing, and while you don’t doubt for a second that he is dangerous, he isn’t to you. He wouldn’t go out of his way to hurt or scare you – you’re not even a blip on his radar – but what Iwaizumi is, at least as far as you’re concerned, the reason your step quickens and you can’t bear to meet his eyes, is intimidating.

Tall and broad shouldered, with those piercing green eyes. You’ve only seen him smile once, though it was more a quirking of his lips than anything else – usually he just stares, his expression halfway between impassive boredom and a scowl. 

No, Iwaizumi doesn’t scare you nearly as much as the bouquet of flowers you find sitting on your doorstep, a handwritten note tucked in between the roses.

—

The calls come next. You block one number and he rings from another, followed by endless texts. Cute little messages you suppose are meant to brighten up your day. 

Hi baby, love the skirt you’re wearing today. You know blue’s my favourite on you, always look so damn pretty. It’s like you’re trying to drive me crazy haha

Morning babe, I was thinking about you last night. You remember that trip we always said we were gonna take in the summer down to the lake? I can’t wait to bring you there.

Why won’t you answer my calls? I just wanna talk to you, hear your voice again. Let me make things right. I love you.

Don’t you miss me? I miss you. So, so much… You look beautiful today, by the way.

Baby, I love you, but you really shouldn’t be staying out so late with your coworkers for drinks. I just want you to be safe.

They’re not all soft and sweet though. Sometimes he just sends you pictures, and those creep you out most of all.

You change your number, and it doesn’t make a difference.

—

It’s hard for you to try and convince yourself that you’re imagining the prickling sensation on the back of your neck as you go about your day. You know he’s watching you – the messages and the voicemails just drive that home, but what else are you supposed to do?

You can’t just pack up and run again, and what good is a restraining order when you have no proof he’s violating it – and by the time you do, it probably won’t help you.

Kazuma’s always had patience, but only up to a point.

The final nail comes the day you arrive home to find one of Iwa’s friends heading out from his apartment – the tallest, with the curly dark hair. Barely spares you a glance until he seems to think better of it.

“Didn’t realise you had a boyfriend, sweetheart.”

He says it so casually, but the words make you falter, a sinking feeling in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

And for a moment, he looks half surprised that you’ve bothered to reply – so far you’ve done nothing but pretend to ignore him and Iwa and every last one of their friends. But the mirth slips from his expression quickly enough once he gets a good look at yours, “Blonde guy with a shitty dye job, tall-ish. Saw him leaving your apartment an hour ago.” 

But to walk out of your apartment, he had to have first gotten into it.

“Guessing he wasn’t your boyfriend then,” he says, eyeing you with an odd look. But you don’t respond and after a short pause, he simply shrugs and continues on his way. 

You couldn’t care less.

Kazuma was in your apartment.

Leaving flowers at your doorstep is one thing, but now he has a key. 

And it feels like there’s somebody else moving your body as you stumble towards your apartment, your hand shaking so badly that you fumble and drop your own keys twice before you finally manage to slide them home and push your way inside.

It’s waiting for you inside your bedroom, sitting atop your pillow; a pretty blue box wrapped with white ribbon.

Your phone flashes to life a minute later; an incoming message from an unknown number. 

Did you like your present, baby?? I hope you don’t mind, I kinda borrowed a little something too… 

With your heart in your throat you watch those three bouncing dots as the image comes through. 

A pair of red lace panties – yours – scrunched up in his fist, wrapped around his–

Your stomach heaves, and you barely make it to the bathroom in time before you’re hurling your guts up.

—

You’ve always had an impulsive side, and more often than not it’s landed you into trouble.

So you force yourself to calm down and think before you do anything rash. You head to the police station the very next morning to file a report, fresh off a sleepless night. The officer seems sympathetic, but you know before she even opens her mouth that there’s nothing they can do.

There’s no proof of a crime committed; nothing was taken (nothing you can prove, at any rate) and because your door wasn’t tampered with and the windows weren’t smashed, there’s no evidence of a break in. She suggests changing your locks and going to stay with some friends or family for a few days and you don’t know whether you want to laugh or burst into tears.

And instead of going back to work, you call in sick.

Iwaizumi isn’t sitting on the front steps when you get back home, and why would he be? You’re not supposed to be home for another few hours – so instead you head to his apartment door and mustering every last ounce of courage you possess, you raise your fist and knock.

Silence greets you. 

You wait for a moment, a heartbeat, not daring to breathe, but there’s no answer. Which, really, shouldn’t be that surprising considering it’s mid-morning on a Tuesday, but you can’t help the crushing sense of disappointment that washes over you. The thought of trudging back to your apartment to sit and stew alone for the next few hours while you wait for him to come back makes your skin crawl. You can’t just sit still and twiddle your thumbs, not when–

Abruptly, the door in front of you swings open, and you find yourself face to face with a glaring Iwaizumi. His expression falters, momentary surprise flickering across his eyes at the sight of you standing in his doorway.

This time you don’t avert your eyes. Your heart’s pounding, your hands clammy and trembling by your side, but this is the only choice you have left. And so as a single eyebrow cocks and Iwa falls into a lean against the doorframe – the only invitation you’re gonna get – you steel your nerves, take a deep breath, and speak.

“I-I need a gun.”

To his credit, Iwaizumi doesn’t snort. “You planning on shooting somebody, princess?”

They’re the first words he’s ever spoken to you, and they make your cheeks burn, your stomach twisting into a knot. It’s not a dismissal, but there’s a tinge of amusement colouring his tone and you can’t help but wilt a little under the weight of his gaze. 

Better sense would tell you to turn around, walk back to your apartment and curse your own idiocy for entertaining this stupid idea to begin with But Iwaizumi’s staring at you like he’s expecting an answer and all you can think about is the fear that gripped your heart last night, how you couldn’t bear to turn the light off, half terrified that at any moment Kazuma would come back – and this time he wouldn’t be satisfied with just some panties.

You can’t live like this, and you can’t just pack up your life and wait for the same thing to happen in the next place, and the one after that. Kazuma won’t stop, you know that. 

“I…” you chew on your bottom lip, dropping your gaze so that you’re staring at his chest instead of those piercing green eyes. “I don’t, I-I’m not–”

“A killer?” he interjects, and you almost flinch at his bluntness“Yeah, no shit.”

Taking another breath in through your nose, you force yourself to meet his gaze, even as your nails bite into the palm of your hand and your heart skips a beat. “I just want…” but you can’t even bear to say the words aloud, not without your voice shaking like a leaf. “It’s for protection. I don’t know who else to go to. Please,” you beg.

Iwa exhales heavily, a crinkle appearing between his brows as he frowns, “This got anything to do with the blonde asshole that’s been sniffing ‘round your place?”

Your bewilderment must show, because he snorts, finally stepping back to let you inside. “Mattsun told me,” he says, answering your unspoken question. 

The unmistakably hard edge to his words takes you a little by surprise, but you nod anyway, gingerly taking a seat on the couch when he jerks his chin at it. “Oh, uh, yeah. He’s my ex, kinda. We… didn’t end well.”

It’s the understatement of the century, but you somehow doubt a man like Iwaizumi gives two shits about your past relationship with a stalker. Your fingers play with the hem of your skirt as the imposing man settles down beside you. “So does this mean you’ll get me a gun?” you ask. “I can pay you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I have some money–”

Iwa scoffs, cutting you off. “If you think I’m letting you anywhere near a loaded gun, pretty girl, you’re dumber than I gave you credit for.”

You reel back as if he’s slapped you. But Iwaizumi’s staring at you with that steely expression and blood rushes to your cheeks. Why are you surprised? Did you actually think he was going to help you – a veritable stranger – just because you have some sob story? Why even bother letting you in if he was just gonna make you feel like an idiot? And for a moment you forget the gnawing terror that’s kept you up all night, letting yourself become awash with indignation. You have no control over the hurt noise that leaves your throat, but the ‘Fuck you’ that follows; that one’s intentional.

You don’t have time to regret the insult as you jump to your feet; his hand shoots out to wrap around your wrist, jerking you to a halt the moment you try it. 

“I didn’t say you could go,” he tells you, and you can’t fight the shiver that rolls down your spine at the unmistakably commanding tone. “Sit.”

Wordlessly, you comply.

“Look at me.”

Again, there’s that harsh undercurrent in his voice that tells you he’s not asking, and you lift your gaze with a tense swallow. Iwa still hasn’t released your wrist, the warmth of his calloused palm searing against your skin. 

He doesn’t speak for a moment, olive eyes studying your face intently as you force yourself to sit still under the appraisal. “I said that I wasn’t going to give you a gun, not that I wasn’t going to help.”

Your eyebrows draw together in confusion, “What–”

“I’ll take care of it,” he snaps, cutting you off once again. And as you inhale sharply, you realise that it’s not anger you see burning in those pretty eyes, but sheer, unrelenting fury, an icy rage that you don’t understand, that terrifies you as much as it enthrals.

Because you feel like it’s on purpose. Like he’s finally letting you get a glimpse of what silently seethes beneath that impassive mask of his. Are you scared now, sweetheart?

“H-how much?” you ask breathlessly, eyes wide and heart pounding. 

“I don’t want your money,” he says quietly, his voice low and husky. And just in case there was any confusion as to what he does want, his other hand comes up to your face, a broad thumb tracing along your bottom lip as he cups your cheek.

Iwaizumi leans in slowly, as if he’s giving you time to shove him away and tell him that you’re not that kind of girl. Part of you – the part that’s terrified, frozen stiff and regretting the very moment you decided to step into his apartment and cross that line – wants to. Even now, as those hooded olive eyes drink you in, his warm breath ghosting across your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake, you’re afraid that it’s too late for that. You’ve opened a door that should never have been opened and there’s been a fundamental shift between you and him. There’s no going back for either one of you.

And the other part of you revels in it.

“Don’t kill him,” you murmur the second before his lips meet yours. “Not unless you have to.” You don’t even know if he heard you, and as Iwa deepens the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours you find that you don’t care. You lose yourself to Iwaizumi as he leans closer, gently pushing you to lie back on the couch.

He isn’t satisfied with just your lips for long, planting hot, open mouthed kisses along your jaw and down the column of your throat, sucking on the sensitive flesh. His teeth nip at your collarbone as he busies himself unbuttoning your shirt, but your gasp sounds more like a needy whine than a plea for him to stop. 

He laughs a little at that, his chest rumbling against your stomach, but he makes no moves to slow down. Instead he turns his attention to your bra, his hands far less gentle with the delicate lace than he was with your shirt, and then his mouth is on your tits, licking, sucking, biting. Tomorrow, your skin will be littered with pretty red and purple marks, and judging from the single minded focus glinting in his eyes as he stares up at you, that’s exactly his intention. Iwa drags the flat of his tongue along the swell of your breast, circling it around your nipple before he sucks it into the wet warmth of his mouth, and the whimpering moan you give him in response is a thing of beauty. 

“Good girl,” he croons. “Such pretty, perfect tits.”

Your back arches when he cups the other in his hand, and you cry out when he roughly tugs the sensitive bud. He waits until the sting fades and you relax, sagging back against the cushions with relief before he does it again, harder this time. The sharp, searing pain ripples through you, your breath seizing in your chest as you try in vain to writhe away from his touch, but it’s followed by a flood of pleasure so strong it almost makes you dizzy. The fleeting kiss Iwa bestows on the supple flesh a moment later could almost be taken as an apology – if not from the satisfied smirk curling at his lips. He has no desire to be gentle with you, not today or any other day. That’s not who he is. 

Large hands ease down your side, reaching for the hem of your skirt. Iwa doesn’t bother trying to pull it off of you, merely flips it up, exposing your soft thighs and the delicate panties lying underneath. 

In an attempt to be helpful, you lift your hips to allow him to drag the lacy scrap of fabric down your legs and discard it, but Iwaizumi seems perfectly content with leaving them where they are. Even so, it takes you by surprise when his mouth descends on your cunt, the wet, pink muscle laving along the seat of your panties. You shiver in response, one hand instinctively reaching out to tangle in those spiky brunette locks, but if you’re about to tell him to stop teasing, the words are robbed from you when Iwa pushes the fabric aside and buries his face in the heat of your pussy.

His nose nudges at your clit and you jerk at the first lap at your folds, already shamefully wet for him. There’s no rhythm or rhyme to the way he eats you out, letting a long, thick finger slide into your cunt while he suckles and licks at your clit, but you can’t deny that it’s working. Your thighs tremble and quake beneath his hands, every second of his attention dragging you closer to unravelling entirely. And you’re awash with pleas, little whimpers and moans as he chuckles, the low vibrations making your fingers tighten in his hair as another burst of pleasure flutters through you. Your hips rise and fall against his face, desperate for more when he finally slides his tongue inside of your heat, eager to taste your cunt properly. You want more, you’re desperate and aching for it; but Iwaizumi’s grip tighten bruisingly against your thigh in warning. 

You’re at his mercy, and he’s in absolutely no hurry.

The first time you cum, it takes you by surprise. It feels like an endless build-up, Iwa’s tongue lapping at your pussy like it’s heaven sent, his mouth working diligently to drive you insane. Every touch feels unbearably good, from the long, slow strokes to the way he drags the tip of his tongue along your clit. Your toes are curling, your tits heaving with the desperate breaths you choke down, and all of a sudden his mouth latches onto your clitoris and he sucks hard at the swollen nub. You almost black out right there and then, stars bursting behind closed lids as pleasure wreaks havoc over your body. But as good as that feels, it’s not until you open your eyes and catch sight of the hunger blazing in Iwaizumi’s eyes that you tip over the edge, cumming into his waiting mouth with an earth shattering moan. 

At some point he must have let you go to rid himself of his own clothes, and your panties, but you’re boneless, basking in the afterglow as he shifts you once more, lifting one of your thighs up to hook your leg over his shoulder as he settles back onto the couch.

You just watch through hazy eyes as Iwaizumi gives his thick cock, already hard and flushed an angry red, a few cursory pumps. And his eyes are fixed on yours as he leans down, guiding the tip to your sopping cunt. 

“Fuck, you have no idea how long I’ve been dreaming of this, princess,” he grunts out. 

Warning bells sound in your head once more, your gut clenching uneasily, but any protests you might have voiced fall by the wayside as he slowly presses into you. It’s the girth, more than anything else, that takes you by surprise. It hurts, stretching out your poor, oversensitive cunt as his cock fills you up, inch by agonising inch. 

Iwa hisses from between clenched teeth and your eyes squeeze shut, trying to breathe through the pain. It won’t last long, you know that, and until it does you just have to grin and bear it.

You can feel it twitching inside of you, every ridge and vein, the way your slick walls hug his cock. His thumb strokes along your hip, soothing you as your face screws up and another whimper slips out. You think you hear him say something, praise maybe, or encouragement, but all you can focus on is the way his cock throbs inside your pussy when he finally bottoms out and stills.

And for a moment, he doesn’t move. A small kindness, letting you become adjusted to his size before he fucks you the way he’s dying to. 

“Look at me,” he says, and while his tone isn’t as sharp this time, it’s no less of an order.

Your eyes flutter open as Iwaizumi turns his head just a fraction without breaking eye contact, pressing a soft kiss against your calf. His eyes are glazed with feverish lust, pupils blown wide, almost swallowing up that thin ring of olive green entirely, and you wonder whether you should feel afraid right now.

You don’t have the words to describe it, the distant unease that seeps through you as you stare into the eyes of a man who’s clearly not in control anymore. If you screamed right now, tried to fight back or stop him, would it make a difference? 

Do you actually want to?

“You’re mine,” he growls out, drawing his hips back and slamming them forward ruthlessly as you choke on a scream. 

He’s relentless, hissing out curses as he fucks you like a rag doll, filling your wet, tight little cunt again and again and again. It’s all you can do to fist at the edge of the cushion, one hand wrapping around his back, your nails raking down his skin, drawing blood in their wake.

And Iwa doesn’t care, tossing his head back as he pounds his cock into your needy cunt, his balls slapping against your ass with every thrust. “Iwa,” you plead between gasping breaths, clinging to his broad frame. You don’t even know what you’re begging for, not as he grabs you by the hips and lifts you up, hauling you closer so he can fuck you deeper. And you can feel his cockhead rutting against your cervix with every vicious thrust, the painful stretch of your cunt as you’re forced to take his fat cock. It hurts, it does, but holy fuck you can’t focus on that when his fingers slip between your legs and he starts to rub at your puffy, oversensitive clit.

You’re whining, mewling, hips shifting as you rock against him, desperate for more friction. “Please, Iwa,” you moan.

The sound of it, the lewd slaps of skin against skin, the wet squelching as he drives his cock home again with an unforgiving pace would be enough to make you burn with embarrassment, but you don’t care because you’re quickly losing yourself to mindless pleasure. Every stroke fills you completely, it’s hot and thick and the drag of his cock against your plush walls, the way it kisses that sweet perfect spot with every thrust is driving you to insanity.

“Fuck!” you cry, clenching tightly around his length as you hurtle over the edge for a second time. You’re gushing, convulsing, back arched up off the couch, lips parted and–

Iwaizumi stops with a growl and you barely have time to process it before he’s flipping you onto your front, yanking your ass up into the air and hammering his cock back into your swollen, abused little pussy. It’s a bruising pace he sets as he chases after his own end, your name falling from his lips in harsh, breathless grunts. 

It doesn’t take long for his thrusts to become sloppy, your cunt sucking him in and pulsing around his cock. And you don’t have the mental capacity to beg him to pull out, not as his muscular chest collapses against your back, his arms wrapping around your waist and he pumps you full of his seed.

Neither one of you move straight away, both fighting to catch your breath and calm down in the afterglow of your orgasms. Your eyes flutter shut as he presses soft, sweet kisses to the back of your neck, your shoulders, anywhere he can reach. It’s an intimacy that doesn’t belong here, but you find yourself arching into it, a small, tired smile curling at your lips as Iwaizumi lavishes you with affection. 

And you can only whine softly when he finally pulls his cock out and stands, lifting your boneless form up into his arms, chuckling quietly when you bury your head into his chest. Your head’s empty, your thoughts a jumbled mess as he carries you into his bedroom, depositing you carefully onto the bed. 

Iwaizumi leaves you there like that, and when he returns a few minutes later he’s dressed again. He doesn’t smile, but there’s something oddly content about his expression as he stops by the doorway and takes in the sight of you; naked and thoroughly fucked out, curled up amongst his covers. 

“Iwa?” you ask sleepily, stretching your aching body to make yourself more comfortable as you nestle further into the soft mattress.

He doesn’t answer you as he strides in, but you watch through half lidded eyes as his expression hardens. Stopping by the bedside, Iwaizumi reaches for you. You think he’s going to cup your cheek again, maybe run his fingers through your hair, but instead his hand slides between your thighs, gathering up some of the cum that’s seeped from your pussy with his fingers and slowly pushing it back inside of you, humming when you whine and shift under him.

“I’m leaving for a bit,” he tells you, your gut clenching as you remember why you’re in this position in the first place. “You don’t leave this apartment until I get back. You don’t answer the door, you don’t tell anyone you’re here, you don’t leave this bed unless you have a goddamn good reason. Understand?”

Weakly, you nod.

“Such a good girl for me,” he breathes, and this time when he leans over he does kiss you, sweeping your hair back from your face before his warm lips meet your cheek. He lingers there for a beat longer than necessary before pulling away with a sigh.

And as the door swings shut, the sound of the lock clicking into place behind him, you begin to question whether you’ve made a mistake. You don’t doubt for a second that Iwa will follow through with his promise. Whether it’s tonight or tomorrow or a week from now, he’ll find Kazuma; him and his friends, and they’ll make sure he stays away. And until they do, you won’t leave this apartment.

There’s a sinking feeling in your stomach that despite your pleas, Iwaizumi’ll kill him. 

Not because that’s the only way for this to end, though you realise that that’s always been a possibility, but because of what you glimpsed in his eyes today. Stupidly, you’d thought you had Iwa pegged. But there’s something that lurks beneath that facade, something more dangerous than you could’ve possibly imagined and the moment you opened the door to Iwaizumi it sunk its teeth into you and now you’re not sure if it’ll ever let you go.

And as you lie back in Iwaizumi’s bed, covered in the marks he left behind you wonder whether you’ve merely traded one monster for another. Perhaps it was inevitable. Inexorable.

[kuroliondragon]

Painting Roses in the Winter (Leona Kingscholar x Reader)

It is only the begging of winter and yet Leona, who is not used to low temperatures, is already freezing. It is your job as his herbivore to keep him warm…

Warnings: Fluff, slight swearing, needy lion

"Oi" The lion lazily called to you.

But he was met with total silence.

"Oi, herbivore" he tried getting your attention again. But still nothing.

He grumbled. Are you trying to ignore him? Or are you genuinely deaf?

"Oi! Herbivore!" he yelled. Nothing…not even a giggle to indicate you were messing with him.

After some tossing around his bed, he decided to turn and face your way and demand answers on why were you ignoring him all of a sudden. As he turned around with a loud puff, he found that he was the only one in the room. Leona blinked a couple of times, trying to focus his vision, getting rid of his sleepiness. His sharp emerald eyes scanned the whole room, every single corner he could find, even the balcony. He even sniffed the air in a search for your alluring scent. No herbivore spotted. What the-? Where did you go?

Just a moment ago you sitting there, rambling about how you couldn't, no matter how hard you tried, pass professor's Trein class on Animal Language. You just kept complaining that Trein couldn’t let you pass without the basics and insisting that you couldn't find anyone to help you. Leona's ears were hurting, plus you didn’t really let him sleep in peace. So, he was about to offer you a helping hand, only if you would repay him in a way he would be satisfied, which meant cuddling all day and doing everything by his book. Leona's eyebrows frowned as he reached for his phone to call you. Soon your sweet voice sounded through the speaker. "Herbivore, why aren't you laying near me right now?" he demanded.

You chuckled at his sudden yet forceful demand.

The lion let out an annoyed growl, "Why aren't you here?"

"Is it true that your mood becomes more easily irritated in the cold months or am I imagining things?" You sarcastically asked.

The lion let out another growl, but this time it was a much louder one. "Herbivore, don't make me come here and take you” he warned.

"I would like to see you try." You dared back.

You heard a annoyed groan, before Leona ended your conversation and angrily slammed his phone on the bed. He stood up and made his way to find you and bring you back to Savanaclaw.

You on the other hand, were stuck in Heartslabyul with your troublemaking friends pleading you to help them paint the roses red while Riddle was away. Ace and Deuce had forgotten that Riddle had given them a specific time limit to do their task of painting the roses. But they didn't have enough time to paint all of the roses in the Rose Garden by themselves before Riddle came back. If he found out that they had broken rule number 230: 'On Friday's the roses must be painted red between 4:30 pm to 6:30 pm.' he would defiantly have their heads. So, as the good friend you were the moment your friends messaged you about their crisis, you run to help them. Only now, you were stuck with painting the roses while neglecting Leona, who was fuming in rage because of your absence.

You carried on helping your friends and hoped Leona would take his sweet time finding you. It wasn't long. By the time you heard footsteps approaching, you had no time to react, as were whisked off your feet and thrown on somebody’s shoulder. It didn’t take a genius to realize that your kidnapper was none other than Leona himself. One glance at the lion and you could tell, he was ready to eliminate anyone who stood in his path. Part of you wondered how quickly he had found you. He must have been quite needy to get out of his bed and come all the way to Heartslabyul to get you. You bit your tongue, not daring to argue about the roses that needed to be painted. What you didn’t expect was the protesting cries of your friends.

"Leona-senpai, you can't take (Y/n) like that! They promised to help us paint the roses before Riddle comes back!" Ace complained.

"Yes! Please let them go!" Deuce pleaded as politely as he could.

Ace turned to Deuce and angrily protested, "Don't play the good kid! Tell him that he can’t do whatever he wants!"

Deuce taken aback, glared at his friend. "You can't talk to him like that, he's a dorm leader!"

Ace ignored him as he turned to face the Savanaclaw Dorm head, "They're not yours alone you know."

Big mistake. If your friends knew what was good for them the would have stayed silent. Now he as their senior and a dorm leader had to teach them what happens when someone messes with his herbivore. Leona smirked and looked at Ace with amusement "They are mine. I do what I want with them.” Leona turned to look at you, still hanging in his shoulders, "If I say they won't be painting stupid roses, then they won't, got that you silly herbivores?" Leona said with a threatening smile.

Your two friends shallowed in fear and yet Ace seemed more then ready to argue back, but Deuce snatched him before he had time to say anything else that would anger Leona even more. "Come on Ace, we really have to paint those roses before dorm leader Rosehearts gets back!" Deuce said with a shaken voice as he pushed Ace towards the rose bushes.

You let small chuckles as Leona walked away from the Rose Garden, mumbling "Who the fuck paints roses in fucking winter…"

As the two of you entered his room, Leona gently placed you on the soft mattress of his bed. He took your bag, searching for your phone. Once he found it he turned in off and threw it in the bag once again. You gave him a questioning look, in which he replied, "So, idiots won't take advantage of you."

He plopped in the mattress near you, his tail moving around your thigh until it circled around it in a clenched grip. His reached his arms to bring you closer and nuzzled his face on the top of your head. As soon as his emerald eyes closed, they opened in distress. He readjusted his position as he bend slightly to smell your hair. He gave it a few sniffs and then looked at you with a disgusting expression, "Not only you smell like other herbivores, you smell like paint too."

You gave him a small laugh, "I was painting roses a second ago."

He hummed in response as he shoved his nose at the crook of your neck, trying to erase the other scents on you and let only his thrive. Once he was done, he snuggled closer to you and let his eyelids fall.

"Are you going to be like that the whole winter?" you finally asked.

"Yes" he hissed.

[hxwks-gf]

» 𝖇𝖗𝖆𝖙

𝖑𝖊𝖛𝖎 𝖆𝖈𝖐𝖊𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖓  𝖝 𝖗𝖊𝖆𝖉𝖊𝖗

𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎: 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝, 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝚊𝚏𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚞𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚒𝚗 𝚊𝚗 𝚒𝚗𝚓𝚞𝚛𝚢 𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚎𝚕𝚍, 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚒 𝚏𝚘𝚛𝚌𝚎𝚜 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚜 𝚙𝚞𝚗𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚖𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚛 𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚕𝚎𝚜𝚜𝚗𝚎𝚜𝚜. 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚕𝚎 𝚒𝚝 𝚜𝚎𝚎𝚖𝚜 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚒𝚝 𝚘𝚞𝚝 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚙𝚒𝚝𝚎, 𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚒 𝚐𝚘𝚎𝚜 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚑𝚘𝚠 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚒𝚝'𝚜 𝚍𝚎𝚏𝚒𝚗𝚒𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚢 𝚋𝚎𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚜𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚜𝚘𝚖𝚎𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚎𝚕𝚜𝚎.

𝚠𝚌: 𝟹.𝟻𝚔

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝚜𝚖𝚞𝚝, 𝚍𝚘𝚖!𝚕𝚎𝚟𝚒, 𝚜𝚠𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚒𝚗𝚐, 𝚜𝚎𝚡, 𝚍𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚢 𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚔,  𝚋𝚎𝚕𝚝 𝚙𝚕𝚊𝚢.  𝚑𝚎'𝚜 𝚐𝚘𝚝 𝚊 𝚜𝚑𝚛𝚎𝚍 𝚘𝚏 𝚊 𝚐𝚘𝚍 𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚙𝚕𝚎𝚡 𝚝𝚘𝚘

ao3 link

“Captain, please! I’m ready to be back in the field, Hange already cleared me for dutyㅡ” 

Levi whirls around to face you and jabs a finger into the center of your chest, his stone grey eyes turning to slits in frustration.“You are not ready for the field, [L/N],” he snarls. “You have proven your recklessness enough to guarantee that you will never see outside Wall Rose again.” 

You were momentarily taken aback by his sudden change in temperament; you were always so used to his disinterested stoicism. The sting of tears in your eyes forces you to look down at your feet in shame. Crying in front of the captainㅡyou had never felt more humiliated in your life. But he had no right to lock you up in the city while the rest of your squad was out beyond the wall, risking their lives. Your place was with them, and Levi knew it. 

“I’m a better Scout than half the regiment,” you finally say through gritted teeth, still staring at the ground. “You think I’m reckless? Then go bench Mikasa too, while you’re at it.” 

“Now you’re giving me orders?” he replies, dangerously soft. 

You meet his eyes. His unreadable expression has returned. “I’m telling you to treat me fairly,” you say, crossing your arms. 

“Life isn’t fair,” Levi snaps, turning away from you with a flourish of his cape. “I thought someone as smart as you would have figured that out by now.” He doesn’t stay long enough for you to spit whatever insult you had waiting on the tip of your tongue. You could do nothing but fume as Levi stalks away from you to rejoin the regiment.

Your cheeks burn with shame as you feel the eyes of the rest of the squad looking back at you in sympathy, but the sound of the horses’ hooves trotting away on the cobblestones tells you that no one is willing to stick up for you. 

You take a hesitant step forward, gazing after them, focusing on the back of Levi’s head. His dark hair was always the easiest to pick out in a crowd. As if he knew you were watching him, he turns his chin over his shoulder and those grey eyes meet your own again. A silent conversation drifts between the two of you, until he finally disappears around the corner, taking whatever he had planned to say with himㅡleaving you alone in the middle of the street. 

The sky is dark by the time you hear their return. The absence of their words was enough to tell you that the mission didn’t go as planned, and there were bound to be reports of casualties. You stand at the window of your quarters, looking down at the group of soldiers trudging along the street. Your eyes scan the faces quickly until you land on Levi’s, and the wild pace of your heartbeat lessens. He always came back. But this time he looks as if he had truly taken a beating; his face is solemn and splattered with blood. Blood that hasn’t evaporated yet, meaning it isn’t Titan blood. It’s the blood of a fallen comrade. 

A sinking feeling plagues the pit of your stomach as you turn away from the window and lower yourself into a chair at the table, waiting for him. A few minutes later, a knock sounds at your door. 

“Come in,” you call to him. 

Levi doesn’t meet your eyes as he appears and closes the door behind him, pulling his green cloak from his shoulders and dropping it to the ground in a heap. He says nothing as he unhooks his ODM gear and strips it carelessly from his body, slinging it over the back of your bed. 

“Levi?” you offer, keeping your words gentle and calm. 

“Don’t,” he says, voice low with sorrow. He stands in front of the fireplace, keeping his back to you. You notice his hands flexing at his sides, as if trying to keep control of himself. 

So you say nothing else and stay put at the table, waiting for him to speak. 

“I know you’re a better Scout than half the regiment,” Levi finally says, still facing away from you. The shadows from the fire dance along the walls of the room. “I know you can take care of yourself.” 

“So why am I on house arrest? I should be out there with you, fightingㅡ” 

“Because,” he snaps, turning his head sharply to the side, “if anything happened to you, I don’t know what I’d do.” 

There it was. The confession hangs in the air as you go rigid at the table, fingernails digging into your palms. You and Levi had been doing this dance for years nowㅡbut neither of you were good at it. Missed opportunities, stolen chancesㅡthat about summed up the relationship.

“You can’t protect me forever,” you find yourself saying, slipping out of the chair and walking over to him by the fireplace. He still doesn’t look at you. You take a deep breath and simply stand beside him, the sleeve of his undershirt brushing against your arm. “Not in this world.” 

“I know,” he mutters, staring into the flames. “Every time the regiment leaves on a mission, less and less return. And after that day, when I found you covered in your own blood, I had already subconsciously made the decision to keep you safe, no matter what. Even if it meant locking you up.” 

“Look at me,” you command him, gripping his shoulder and forcing him to turn. His grey eyes are bloodshot and partnered with dark circles underneath them. The blood on his cheek is dark, like a tattoo on his skin. You reach up and trace it, flakes of it falling off at your touch. 

Levi stares at you with his eyebrows pulled together. He extends his fingers to run them through your hair, before coming to rest at the spot where your shoulder gracefully curved into your neck. His thumb draws idle circles over your clavicle, sending an onslaught of goosebumps over your skin. 

You lower your hand and look into his eyes. Such sad, lonely eyes. Eyes that truly have seen too much bloodshed, too much loss, too much sorrow. All you want to do is make it all disappear. “Let me come on the next mission,” you plead, entwining your fingers with his. His skin is cold. “You know I belong out there, beside you.” 

His dark hair falls over his forehead as he nods, closing his eyes in defeat. A beat passes, and he glares at you. “Why do you have to be such a stubborn brat?” 

The corner of your mouth lifts in a smile. “Because you taught me not to take anyone’s shit, Captain.” 

Levi rolls his eyes, but doesn’t disagree. His fingers travel from your neck and down your arm, until his hand is gripping your own and he’s pulling you towards your bed. 

“You know how much I like it when you call me ‘Captain’,” he growls, pushing you down gently until you’re laying on your back with your legs hanging off the edge. Levi nudges them apart and looms over you, the blood decorating his face making him look feral and unhinged. It excites you in a way you never imagined. He ducks down and presses a fervent kiss to your lips, wasting no time shoving his tongue inside your mouth. He tastes like salt and sweat, but there’s a lingering sweetness as he kisses you. His hands are braced on either side of your head. Your fingers are trying to unhook his belt and pull up his shirt, earning a low chuckle from him that reverberates past your lips and down your throat. 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” He reaches down and takes your wrists in his hands. He pins them above your head with ease, gazing down at you through half-lidded eyes, ridden with lust. “You’re already a brat outside of this roomㅡcan’t you just behave for once?” 

“Maybe,” you purr, tilting your chin up in a silent plea for him to resume kissing you. “But where’s the fun in that?” 

Levi lets out another growl that sets off a white-hot fire in your core. He shoves his tongue in your mouth again with a groan, tightening his grip on your wrists. “Brat,” he calls you again against your mouth, unable to hide the feral need behind it. You press your thighs together to create just a little friction to ease the growing pressure between them, but Levi is quick enough to slip a hand down to keep them apart. 

“What did I say?” he says, leaning back to look at you beneath him. His eyes glint in the firelight. “Behave.” 

“Or what?” you taunt, jutting your chin out defiantly. 

Levi’s nostrils flare and the hand above your head disappears from your wrists, moving to grip your chin with surprising speed and agility. He holds your chin with his thumb and index finger, forcing you to look up at him. The pressure between your thighs is unbearable now, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of begging. Levi’s hold on your chin loosens, sliding down to wrap around your throat. He’s enjoying this too much. 

He leans down and takes your bottom lip between his teeth, biting down gently but firmly. “Behave, or I’ll have no choice but to punish you.” Levi’s eyes glitter as he traces your swollen lip with the pad of his thumb. “Unless that’s what you really want.” 

You say nothing, but your tongue darts out to wet your lips. A breath hitches in his throat as he watches it, his hand still wrapped around your throat. He squeezes, and the blood rushes to your ears. You could feel yourself becoming a soaking mess right underneath him. 

“Teach me a lesson,” you say breathlessly, almost pleadingly. “Captain.” 

With a wild snarl, Levi’s hand disappears from your throat and hooks around the back of your knee, roughly shoving your legs apart. He pushes his fingers underneath your shirt and grasps at your breasts, momentarily dropping his head against your navel and groaning in lust. You throw your head back in pleasure as he pinches your nipple, already peaked and stiff for him. 

“Get this off,” he commands, withdrawing his hands and gesturing to your shirt. You obey, pulling it up and over your head. He runs his tongue across his teeth as you lay exposed to him, the dim light from the dying fire illuminating the curves and dips of your torso. Levi braces himself over you again, sinking his teeth into the sensitive spot of your neck. As he works with his warm tongue and teeth, he frees a hand to tug at your pants. A silent command. 

You shimmy out of them to the best of your ability as he marks your neck. You now lay completely naked underneath him, wholly at his mercy. A pained moan escapes you as he bites down on a particularly sensitive spot, and his hips push against yours in earnest. You could feel his hard-on bulging through his pants, sending dark shivers straight down your spine and into your core. 

“Please,” you whisper into his ear, his dark hair tickling your nose. You can’t take it anymore. His lustful scent invades your sensesㅡall you can smell, hear, see, and breathe was him. 

“Are you finally begging?” he growls, pulling back to look at you. 

“Don’t you like it when I beg?” you ask him, dizzy with desire. You want him so bad. So bad, you know you’ll do just about anything for him. 

Levi’s throat bobs as he swallows, but he quickly regains himself. “Yes,” he says, pulling himself off of you entirely. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch him strip his sweat-stained shirt over his head, revealing the sharp and defined muscles hidden beneath. Without breaking eye contact with you, Levi unhooks his belt and slides it from his pants, folding it in half. Your eyes widen as you realize his intention. 

“Turn around.” 

You do so without any hesitation, pressing your chest and stomach into the bed, ass exposed. As you rest your head on your crossed arms, Levi gently trails the leather belt over your skin, starting from the middle of your shoulder blades and ending at your backside. He’s completely silent. You shiver with the anticipation, wondering when he’ll actuallyㅡ

CRACK! 

A pained but pleasured wail escapes you as he brutally whips your ass, the delicious sting reverberating throughout your entire body. You hear him let out a stifled moan, and the faint touch of leather returns. You’re absolutely dripping now, feeling the beads of your slick sliding down your thighs. One of his hands moves to grip your hip to steady you. You can feel each individual fingertip digging into your skin. 

“Beg.” 

The single word is enough to send you into a lust-filled haze. Before you could answer, Levi brings the belt down again, cracking across your skin. You cry out for him again, a mix of sobs and moans. “P-please,” you manage to choke out between pleasured sobs. “Captainㅡ” 

“Fuck,” you hear him groan, and the sound of the belt clattering to the ground echoes through the room. Both of his hands are on you now, one still attached to your hip and the other sliding up the center of your spine to rest at the base of your skull, fingers wrapping around your nape and shoving your face into the blankets. You’re not sure when he found the time to slip his pants down, but your ass bucks toward him once you feel the head of his cock pressing against your entrance. “Beg for my cock, brat,” he hisses.

“Please give it to me,” you plead, words muffled by the blanket. “Fill me with it, Captain.” 

His fingers fist in your hair and Levi roughly jerks your head up by the roots. His chest presses against your back as he leans over you to press his lips to your ear. “I can’t hear you.” 

“Please!” you cry out, nearly sobbing. 

He releases you, your head falling back into the sheets. His hands splay over your hips and you instinctively lift your ass higher for him. You hear him chuckle darkly. “So eager,” he murmurs, running his palm over the smooth skin of your backside. Without warning, he lands a swift smack against it, earning another sinful moan from you. “It seems like you enjoy the pain.” 

You can barely think straight. The pressure in your core was too much to bear, too much to handle. “Levi,” you pant, calling him by his name now, “pleaseㅡ” 

He slams his cock into your entrance without another word. You tip your head back and let loose a string of moans and curses, a symphony of pleasure for his ears only. He slides his member out painfully slow, until only the tip is left. Levi pauses there, listening to your incoherent sobs, until he snaps his hips forward and slams so deep into you again. 

“God,” you manage to gasp out, breathing heavily. He begins to thrust into you at a brutal pace with his hands still gripping your hips tightly. The onslaught of pleasure is almost too much for you to handle as your vision starts to blur with tears, mouth open in an eternal expression of ecstasy as Levi fucks you senseless. “Godㅡfuckㅡ” 

“You’re right,” he grunts, the wet slap of skin hitting skin filling the room, “I am your god.” 

“Y-yes,” you moan, fisting the sheets in your hands. “You are.” 

Levi’s thrusts don’t falter as his hands disappear from your hips and snake around your torso. With one swift motion, he’s lifting you up and pressing your back against his chest, sitting on his haunches. He bounces his hips to keep you bobbing on his cock, his muscled arms wrapping around you and finding your throat again. His breath tickles your skin as he sinks his teeth into your shoulder, suckling the skin and branding you as his. 

“Fuck!” You’re overwhelmed by the multiple stimulations, feeling the pull in your core growing hotter and hotter. 

Levi growls in your ear, a string of saliva stretching from his lips to your skin. His fingers constrict around your throat. “You make the sweetest noises,” he growls into your shoulder, quickening the pace of his thrusts. “Sing for me.” 

You do as he says, letting out another wail of pleasure, tipping your head back to rest against the crook of his neck. 

Levi hums in approval and slows down, much to your disappointment. You were so closeㅡa few more seconds, and you would have been a complete mess in his arms. But Levi isn’t stupid; he’s figured out your tells and knows just when to stop in order to drive you absolutely crazy for his cock. He pulls out of you completely and gently adjusts you on the bed so you’re laying on your back, looking up at him with eyes that are feral with desire. He runs his hands over your thighs in admiration, leaning down to leave a trail of nips and kisses along your navel. 

“Levi,” you softly plead, reaching for him. 

He slides up and hovers over you, dark hair falling over his sweaty forehead. His grey eyes blink slowly at you in the dark, the light of the embers glinting off of them. Your hands travel over his muscled arms, broad chest, taut shoulders, until they come to rest on his cheeks. You cradle them gently, and the two of you stay like that for a few momentsㅡjust staring at each other. 

He speaks first. “If anything ever happened to youㅡif anyone tried to take you away from meㅡI will tear this entire world apart with my bare hands.” 

“Why?” you ask, pulling his face closer and pressing your forehead against his. 

“You know why,” Levi murmurs, his hot breath fanning over your mouth. You kiss him, running your tongue over his teeth. 

“I want to hear it,” you whisper, pulling away. His cock is twitching against your entrance again. You wrap your legs around his, urging him to slip inside of youㅡand he does, with a tight groan. Levi dips his head into the crook of your neck as he starts to fuck you again, slowly and carefully. You’re pressed so tightly against him, you’re not sure where your skin ends and his begins. You move as one, thrusting together languidly, sharing breaths and holding onto each other as if even the slightest amount of slack would make the other disappear. 

“Say it,” you plead, lifting his head up to look him in the eyes. His jaw is set as he holds back his groans, a bead of sweat sliding down the side of his face. “Please.” 

“Goddammit,” Levi moans and closes his eyes. His hips falter in their thrusts, his breathing becoming ragged. 

“Look at me,” you murmur, running your fingers through his ebony hair. He obeys, opening his eyes again and finding yours. They’re glazed over with lust as he nears his climax. “Tell me.” 

“You’re mine,” he finally gasps out, his entire body becoming tense and taut. “Do you understand me?” His thrusts become erratic and quick, slapping against your skin. “Mine.” He bares his teeth like an animal, and you feel the tip of his cock press against that spongy part deep inside of youㅡsending you right over the edge. You cry out out his name over and over again as you ride through your glorious orgasm, your hands gripping his shoulders for dear life. 

“Fuckㅡnghㅡgoddammit,” Levi growls, gasping for breath as you clench around his cock. A few seconds later, you feel him explode inside of you, filling you with his seed. Droplets of sweat fall from his forehead and drip onto your cheeks. 

He pulls out of you with a groan. You lay there, spent and exhausted, while he fetches a wet cloth from the washbasin and proceeds to clean you up. He works silently and diligently, making sure you’re pristine before he rinses the cloth and hangs it up to dry. Your eyelids are already drooping as you listen to him clean himself up at the washbasin, cracking your eyes open again when you feel the bed dip as he climbs into it and settles in beside you. 

“So I’m yours, huh?” you mindlessly murmur into his chest, draping an arm over his torso. “No one else’s?” 

“Don’t start with me,” he sighs, exhaustion lacing his words. “Go to sleep.” 

“Should I beg again?” 

“Do you want stable duty for the next three months?” 

You laugh. The warmth of the fire and the afterglow of your love-making is a match made in heaven for a good night’s sleep, the dreaming world calling your name over and over again. But you need to hear Levi say it againㅡsober, not just in a sex-fueled craze. “Just once, and I’ll leave it alone.” 

Levi doesn’t say anything right away, but his arm that’s curled around your shoulders pulls you in closer. You feel his cool lips press themselves to the top of your head, and he inhales the scent of your hair. 

“You’re mine,” he finally breathes, so softly that you’re afraid you’ve imagined it. But a few moments pass and he pulls away. “Brat.” 

A ghost of a smile graces your face, hidden in the dark. It was enough. 

i guess i officially write for captain levi now, and i’m not even mad. 

@baroque-baby​ @pimpnamedslickback1​ since you guys asked for it specifically 

[mammons-best-boi]

I really liked the Diavolo x reader where they have an argument,do you think you could do a part 2 where he apologizes?

Ya know, you're not the only one who has asked for that. I have a feeling that this is gonna be also sad. (this is the previous ask)

It took three days before Lucifer and Barbatos forced Diavolo to tell them what happened.

Diavolo spilled everything, and a many tears, to his two right hands.

Lucifer and Barbatos shared a look and, with a nod, Barbatos departs, leaving Lucifer and Diavolo alone.

"Lord Diavolo, do you realize how much damage you could've caused to your exchange program, not to mention to your relationship."

"I know.." Diavolo slumps in his chair.

Lucifer rounds the table to stand next to his employer. "I believe that the best course of action, as your friend, is to apologize." He places a hand on Diavolo's shoulder. "Mc is very forgiving, they may be hurt for a while, but they will forgive you." With a squeeze, Lucifer pulls his hand back.

"How do you know that!?" Diavolo's voice cracks and wobbles.

With a pained sigh, Lucifer takes a seat across from him. "If they can forgive Belphie after.. after what happened, I sure that they will forgive you."

Diavolo nods somberly, sniffling softly as he thinks. Thinks about what happened, how to fix it, and an appropriate apology.

It took another two days for Diavolo to get everything put together; ball thrown in your honor -to be held this coming weekend, four dozen roses and other flowers -all arranged to tell you how he feels, plus he freed his whole day to spend it with you -getting you anything and everything you could ever want.

When he arrives at the HOL, he's greeted by six very unhappy brothers, all with scowling faces.

Taking a deep breath, Diavolo straightened his shoulders and started to talk. "I messed up-"

"No shit." Mammon growls

"I messed up, and I'm here to make it right. If they'll still have me.." Diavolo stares at his feet.

Mammon and Asmo share a look, a silent conversation spoken is slight movements, and Asmo leaves the line up.

"How do we know that you're not just going to make it worse?" Belphie asks, he can feel his tail lashing even though he's in his human form.

"I.." Diavolo looks up to your window. "I won't make it worse on purpose. I just want to tell them that I'm sorry, that I'll do whatever it takes for them to forgive me." He looks Mammon in the eyes. "Please.."

Mammon, unyeilding, glares at the prince. "Ya think that's gonna convince us to let you in? Do ya have any clue whatcha put 'em through?" Mammon pushes past his brothers and pokes the prince in the chest. "No, ya don't. Ya wouldn't know how scared they were when they got back, how they flinched away from us when we asked what happened." Mammon had backed the prince off of the front steps and onto the walkway.

Belphie, who had trailed behind Mammon, speaks up. "I worked hard to get them to trust me, even slightly, after what I did to them. And now.. now they're scared of me again." Tears well in the corners of his eyes. "Do you know how bad it hurts? To have all of the progress I worked to make dashed across the rocks because of someone else?"

"I'm so sorry Belgriphor.." the prince bows in apology, but Belphie just huffs and walks back to the house.

"I may not know what happened between the two of ya, but I've seen how it hurt 'em for the past five days. An not once in them five days, did ya reach out to them. Not a text, not a call, not even a text to any of us ask how they were." Mammon pulls at his hair as his phone buzzes a pattern. "Yer just lucky that they still wanna see ya, otherwise I'd boot ya from the premises." He growls as he leads the prince back to the door and the four remaining brothers.

They part so the two could pass, but promptly surround the prince. It would be a comforting thing in any other situation, but now? Now it's a threat, no, a promise of what'll happen if he makes this worse.

With a deep breath, he opens your door.

This is getting kinda long, so I have to add another part. And where better to leave it than on a cliff hanger!

[hyunjilicious]

I just read what is and what should never be and it was PHENOMENAL! I love everything you write anyway so I was wondering if you could do a small one where Bucky is alone and depressed and he calls yn because he feels lost and she is just there for him? No worries if you can't! I love you anyway 💕

Omg!! You’re too sweet! I really wanted to do this one justice, but I suck at angst... I love you too!! and I’m sorry if this sucks!

Summary: after the events of Endgame, you and Bucky part ways. Even though you haven’t spoken in months, when he needs you, you’re there ANGST 2.2k

Warnings: overall angsty vibes. Sad Bucky. Idk depictions of depression I guess? shitty writing!

“You came” Bucky's surprised tone pulled you out of your thoughts.

Before saying anything else, you shook your head in disbelief. From certain points of view, he looked exactly the same as when you last saw him months ago, but if you looked past his rugged exterior, it was very easy to tell something was truly eating away at his heart.

“Of course I came” you frowned, “You called me”

“Thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore” Bucky mumbled.

You looked him up and down, thoroughly confused by his statement, but decided to keep the tone of the conversation from going too dark too fast. “Shut up, Barnes” you scoffed, “Don’t even joke about that.” A hint of a smile appeared at the corner of his lips, but it was forced, you could easily tell he wasn’t truly being himself. “What’s up?”

Bucky took a deep breath as if gathering the courage to word his thoughts. When his eyes met yours he flinched, the pain clouding his otherwise bright blue eyes. He started with a long sigh and a shake of his head but then, cringed as he finally spoke up. “I need help”

His confession went directly to the pit of your stomach. “What happened? Whatever it is, you got it, but what-”

“Nothing happened” Bucky stopped you, “I need help”

“I don’t understand”

“I need someone to-” he sighed, closing his eyes as his head fell forward in what could only be described as shame, “I need someone to talk to” and it was funny, considering he just walked out of his psychiatrist’s office. “Someone that’s not paid to listen to me” he added, “Someone who understands”

It was moments like these that you truly wished Steve was still here. Or Nat. Your best friends, yes, but they were the glue that held you all together, and now in their absence, you were all threatening to fall apart. 

But of course you’d be there for Bucky. Whatever he needed you were more than eager to provide, but at the same time, you were fully aware that your capabilities were limited. You didn’t lack the understanding or the experience, but you lacked the words. You had the sympathy, but not the advice he needed. But you were there. Like you have always been and always will be, so, that afternoon you ended up on his living room floor.

Surrounded by empty bottles of alcohol that had no effect on either of you whatsoever, you sat and listened to him rant his heart out until his throat couldn’t take it anymore. And then he broke down - completely. A full on mess, tears staining his cheeks as the temperature dropped in the room with every other pained groan he’d release. But he let it all out and the weight he had been carrying on his shoulder was unimaginable. There were too many things eating away at his heart, but the guilt was what kept him under its spell, what kept him up for the last months, what was physically destroying him.

“Y/n... “ he called for you, face hidden in his hands as he spoke, “I know you’re gonna say no, but-”

“No,” you stopped him, “Then don’t ask me”

“Please”

“No, Bucky” you sighed, grabbing his wrist so you could look him in the eyes, “If you already know it’s a bad idea, please don’t tell me because I’m afraid I’ll actually go through with it right now”

“But i can’t fucking sleep!” he cried out loud, falling back against the couch, arms propped up on his knees, “I keep having the same nightmares over and over again, and I can’t take it anymore”

“You don’t-” you took a deep breath, “You don’t want me to erase your mind, do you?”

The look in his eyes proved that that was exactly what he wanted. And the unshed tears that coated the otherwise pure and radiant blue of his eyes was almost enough to convince you.

“Please-” he begged, “I-”

“No, Buck” you shook your head and shuffled to face him properly, “As time passes, it’s only gonna get worse. The past will eventually catch up to you. You’ll want to know what you did”

He didn’t have it in him to fight you, so silence settled for a while. “You know sedatives don’t work on me?”

“I… never thought about it, but that makes sense”

Bucky gathered his lips into a tight line and nodded his head.

“Lady shrink isn’t of any help?” you asked.

“I have no clue what she’s doing” he shrugged, “Maybe it’s good in the long run, but fuck if I know how she expects me to make any kind of progress right now”

“You are, tho” you reassured him, “Making progress I mean”

“Am I?” Bucky laughed incredulously.

“Yes! You’re almost completely on your own feet. You really pushed through”

“Or maybe I’m just ignoring all of my problems”

“You just told me about them” you chuckled, and threw an arm over his shoulders.

Hesitatingly at first, he eventually leaned in into your hold, allowing himself to completely fall against your chest. “I hate this”

“I think that’s a given” you laughed, curling your fingers around the roots of his way too short hair. “A wise man once said that whenever someone acts like they have their shit together, they’re either lying or delusional”

“Who said that?”

“I don’t know” you confessed, “I saw that on the internet”

For the first time that night, you actually heard him laugh, and it sounded so good - it was short and weak, but it was sweet and honest. “That’s a pathetic attempt at cheering me up, but I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it” Bucky said as he pushed himself up.

“I wish I could do more” you mumbled, “But I don’t know what, or how, but-”

“Thank you”

“You don’t have to thank me, you know that” you smiled.

He didn’t know that. He’d never stop thanking you for even the smallest gestures. The day where Bucky would understand that kindness, in some cases, is a given, was far away, but you had the patience and determination to work for it.

As you talked and talked, and the topic of conversation kept shifting from one area to the other, the sun set, night settling outside his small windows. It was time for you to leave, and you would’ve done it, had he asked you not to at the last second.

You had your shoes on and one hand on the door handle, when he stumbled over his words, obviously too shy to properly hold his ground. “Actually can you- can you-” he mumbled, pointing to his couch, “Can you stay here tonight?”

And of course you did. The night didn’t last much longer after that, with Bucky settling on the floor, only a blanket to keep him company, and you sprawled out on the couch as silence settled.

But your mind was too busy to drift off. You knew his’ was too, but decided to refrain from speaking up, hoping to let him fall asleep, even for a short while.

It was loud inside your head. You always promised yourself you’d never intrude on someone’s thoughts and read through them without their approval, but you physically felt Bucky radiate energy, and your mind just slipped. But then, your heart almost stopped.

You saw yourself. You saw yourself slapping him back in Wakanda when he decided to go under ice again, you saw yourself moving a car out of his way back in Bucharest, when you risked your life for his because you trusted Steve that much, and because you were that good of a friend. You saw yourself at Tony’s funeral, eyes shiny with tears and then felt an almost uncontrollable urge to hug yourself - and then realised it wasn’t your urge, it was Bucky’s. At this point, your heart beat so fast you were actually afraid he’d hear it. But when goosebumps appeared all over your skin, you realised he couldn’t hear you, that he was asleep and that the nightmares started materializing. 

What convinced you to act on it was the sudden jerk of his body and the way to fully tensed instantly after. So, unable to just sit and watch, you rolled over to the side and allowed your hand to fall by his temple, little specks of light rolling off the tips of your fingers as you forced the thoughts away. Seconds later, you saw him relax and shift around, gathering the blanket he laid on to his chest as he drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

His relaxed form and the steady pace of his breathing put a smile on your face. But you made the mistake of thinking this was a one time thing, however, before you realised, you found yourself leaning over him again, ushering yet another wave of nightmares away. And it kept being an ongoing process until the sun rose, and you cursed yourself as you did not get one second of shut eye. But it was worth it. The sight of him finally resting, knowing he spent his night in his happy place that you this time did not intrude on, made up for your tiredness. 

When Bucky drifted out of his deep sleep, you figured it was safe to relax too. But knowing that if you went to sleep right now you wouldn’t wake up until noon, you stood up, determined to give him the full best friend experience.

But all you found in his kitchen was a box of stale cereal, a soft cucumber and candy wrappers. Had he not looked so adorable sleeping shirtless and curled into a ball on the floor, you would have woken him up yelling. But instead, you decided to order some food, and the simple fact that the sound of the delivery guy ringing the doorbell didn’t wake him up, actually terrified you. With a life like yours, no one sleeps that deeply, but then there he was, snoring away the late hours of the morning. 

By the time he finally stirred awake, the food was already cold, and you were bored out of your mind. “What- what time is it?” he mumbled, voice rich with sleep.

“A little bit past 2” you yawned from your spot on the couch.

“2 pm?” Bucky huffed, sitting up in a hurry and rushing to grab his phone. “What the-” he turned to you confused, “It’s 2pm…”

“Yeah” you sighed, “And the food is cold”

“Food?” Bucky gawked, looking over at the small table by the window, “You got food?”

“You didn’t have any” you defended yourself. You wanted to scold him for not taking better care of himself, but he looked so homey and cozy and vulnerable, that you couldn’t bring yourself to.

Eventually, you stood up and walked over to him. “I’ll let you eat, Buck, but I gotta go” you sighed, giving him a hug, “Got some stuff to do” you lied, by stuff meaning sleep, since you were exhausted.

“Yeah, of course” he mumbled in agreement, wrapping his arms around your frame, and bringing you closer. He sank his head into the crook of your neck, holding you to his chest for a moment longer than you would have considered friendly. But you didn’t complain, his hold was stern and loving, and you really needed that right now. “Thank you” Bucky added when he finally let you go. His right palm cupped your cheek as he looked down at you, awe and admiration in his eyes.

“Nothing to thank me for, Buck” you smiled, and then pulled away.

He silently watched you get ready to leave, following you around until you reached the door and turned around to say goodbye. And it was weird. Your heart boomed against your ribcage, and you didn’t have to read his thoughts to know he was feeling the same kind of nervous. And it may have been the one too many stories you read but you actually feared something was going to happen. Thankfully, it didn’t. Instead you shared another hug, and parted ways.

However, all you managed to do was reach the staircase before you heard his door open, followed by the sound of his bare feet sprinting down the hallway. “What are you-”

“Can you stay?” he asked, shaking from head to toe, “In New York I mean, can you please stay? Just a few more days”

“Well, I- yeah, I guess I can” you mumbled.

“I just, I need a few more days. You’re screwing my head back on, I just need you now. Steve is gone, and Sam is all the way in Louisiana and I hate phones and I-”

“Wow-” you laughed, “I’m not even the second choice, I’m the third?”

“Shut up, Y/n” Bucky frowned, “Stop being a smartass for a second”

“I’m sorry” you rolled your eyes, but he didn’t care.

In the blink of an eye, Bucky threw his arms around your shoulders and hugged you close, and you weren’t sure if the ‘I love you’ that echoed inside your mind had actually been spoken or just thought, but it was everything you never knew you needed.

[yoomiii123]

Recollections - Chapter 6

Recollections is a collection of interconnected OneShots that span Jasper's life with Alice. They are in the same continuity, but can be read as stand-alones.

You can also find this fanfiction AO3 or FF.net.

Summary: An unexpected slip-up suddenly leads Jasper to consider an entirely different future. A future, without the Cullens. One, in which they both have red eyes [aka the time Alice slipped up and Jasper couldn't stop thinking about her with red eyes].

Timeline for this chapter: This takes place pre-twilight. Jasper and Alice have met five months ago and are currently living in a small cabin in the canadian woods, where they get to know each other better and Jasper tries to adapt to the vegetarian diet.

Word Count for this chapter: 4'322

Trigger Warnings: none

Rating: PG

---------

 April 02, 1949 - Fort George QC.

Time moved faster in the peaceful calm of the Canadian wilderness. At least that’s what it felt like to me. Or maybe it was just that time passed so much faster when you had someone to spend it with. And Alice really knew how to spend time.

We had fallen into a comfortable routine of hunting, training, and relaxing in the cabin. Alice liked to delve into the future for a few hours every day, checking in on the Cullens. I spent most of that time reading. First, the books on local wildlife I had found on one of the dusty shelves in the bedroom, later the magazines and newspapers she brought home from her trips to town.

She visited Fort George about once a month to get a few necessities like candles, matches, or replacements for the clothing we ripped, and always brought home a few newspapers so we could keep up with whatever was going on in the world. There was nothing major of interest happening, but it passed the time.

Being up here in the quiet, with only her and my emotions around, helped me slowly regain control over my gift. As the months passed, it became easier to separate the emotions and though this came as a blessing at first, it gave the depression weighing on my mind newfound power as well. However, it never became overbearing like it had before, and I solely credited this to Alice.

Somewhere close by a group of deer passed me, and I thought about chasing them for a moment. Though I’d already forced myself to down more than I had ever had in one sitting of human blood, the acid at the back of my throat was still sizzling. This was normal, Alice had explained. Apparently, animals weren’t as filling as human blood. Between this, the foul taste, and the continued frustration of defeat every time I couldn’t finish my prey, I had been over it weeks ago.

To me, the idea of killing a human became more acceptable with every passing day but Alice was always so thrilled whenever I got back from a hunt. She’d sit in front of me for hours, examining my eyes closely to see how they changed. The muddy orange tinge they had taken on brought her unmeasurable joy. It was enough to dissuade me from pursuing the idea. At least for now.

This time, however, she was not waiting for me in front of the cabin.

Alarmed, I sped up, intently listening, and scouring the area for her emotions. When I finally found them, they were almost unrecognisable.

Her cheerfulness and hope were vanquished, overshadowed by something much heavier, much darker. She was deeply upset. Not upset like when I had pushed her away at first or when I pinned her to the ground during one of our training sessions. This was deep, ground-breaking, earth-shattering despair.

A single sob reached my ears, powerful enough to tear my body into pieces.

I didn’t slow down before reaching the door, storming into the dimly lit room. She was curled up on the rocking chair, her legs held tightly to her chest and her beautiful face hidden behind her knees. She sobbed again. I would have preferred to lose a limb.

“Alice?” I gently asked, as I approached her. She didn’t react. Panic rose inside of me. Had she been hurt? Had a nomad passed by while I was out? No, she would have seen that. But what else could have pained this delicate creature so much?

I sank to my knees in front of her and carefully lifted her head, examining every inch of her perfect face to ensure that she was not injured. Her skin was as flawless as ever, no signs of a tear or bite mark. But then—

I smelled it on her breath the moment I noticed her eyes. So used to the liquid gold, my brain had skipped over it at first. But now, with the enticing scent of human blood in my nose, I saw it. Familiar gold had turned into a painful amber, tainted by the influence of her victim’s blood.

She had slipped up, I realised. Alice, perfect little joyful Alice, had killed a human. And despair was choking her almost as badly as it used to claw at me. It was unbearable. And yet, just taking it away from her felt wrong.

“I-I didn’t want to… It just— It was so strong, I—,” she sobbed.

I couldn’t endure seeing her like this any longer. Without thinking twice, I wrapped my arms around her delicate frame and pulled her into my lap.

“It’s okay,” I found myself whispering as her hands grabbed my shirt, tearing the thin fabric. Her tiny body was shaken by her sobs. The pain bled straight into me. I swallowed the venom that was watering my mouth when she gasped for air, and clenched my jaw, silently sharing in her sorrow. Just holding her.

It took a while for her to recover. The light had long disappeared and it was pitch black in the cabin when I finally felt her despair slowly recede. It didn’t disappear, sorrow like that never just disappeared, but at least she was starting to calm down.

I gently ran my fingers up her back to her neck, searching for her alabaster skin. And when I finally found it, I tore down the barrier I had so carefully built up to separate my emotions from the outside world.

The remnants of her anguish hit me first but having regained control over my gift, it was an easy thing to dissipate them. But I didn’t stop there. Instead, I pulled forth all the hope, affection, love, and appreciation I had so graciously received from her over the past five months and pushed them into her tiny body.

She immediately responded to it, her muscles relaxing and her head finally lifting from my chest. “W-What is this?” she stuttered.

“Everything you gave to me over these past months. I thought it’s time I returned some to you.”

She sighed happily. “Why didn’t you tell me that you’ve got control over your gift again?”

I wanted to shrug my shoulders but immediately decided against it, realising that it would make Alice uncomfortable. “It didn’t seem important,” I admitted.

We fell silent again, until I finally found the courage to ask her. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”

Darkness fought for a hold on her emotions, but it couldn’t get past me. I was determined to keep her safe.

“I-I saw that you finished the newspaper and wanted to get you a new one but there— Just a few miles south, there was a hunter who had fallen off a cliff… There was so much blood. I didn’t want to. I wanted to be strong. For you. But the smell was so overwhelming. I couldn’t stop myself…”

I fought off another wave of shame and despair, but Alice stopped me before I could completely defeat them. “Don’t take it away. I want to feel it.”

I tensed. It was against every fibre of my being to let such a gentle creature feel this pain. But I couldn’t turn her down either. So, I let the darkness come, carefully re-introducing her to it by letting the emotions slowly seep through the invisible wall of positivity I had enveloped her in.

Her muscles tightened, and I could feel her fingers gripping the cotton of my shirt with renewed force.

“Is there a body we need to take care of?” I asked carefully without any judgement in my voice. How could I have blamed her for this? I had been thinking about doing the same for days now. It somehow just had never occurred to me that she—

Alice interrupted my thoughts by shaking her head, tickling my neck with a few stray strands of her spiky hair. “They won’t find him until the ice on the Bay has melted,” she said.

I nodded. She had taken care of things. 

I was taken aback by how much this surprised me. Of course, she knew how to dispose of a body, she was a vampire after all. Still, she had always made animal blood seem like the natural choice for her. I just had never imagined her with red eyes. But now, as we fell silent and she rested her head against my chest once more, it was all I could think about.

xxxx

Alice’s cheery disposition was clouded for a few more days and I noticed that she meticulously avoided the bathroom mirror and all other possibly reflective surfaces. She dodged my eyes as well. I wasn’t sure if it was because she still felt like she had let me down or because the colour of my eyes reminded her of hers. The fact that she accompanied me on all my hunts, almost drowning herself in animal blood, supported both. 

I didn’t dare to ask, not wanting to bring back the painful memory.

To my relief, she eventually recovered and five days after the incident, there was no trace of the kill left in her eyes or emotions. The only change remaining was the fact that she spent more hours rigidly sitting on the floor in front of the rocking chair, resting her back against my legs and combing through the future.

I had asked her about what she was seeing once because I sensed an unusual commotion in her emotions; disappointment, fear, worry, and helplessness flashing quickly after each other before disappearing altogether. Alice just shrugged it off and changed the topic. I hadn’t asked again, but the turmoil recurred every time she turned her eyes to the future for more than just a few minutes.

It was churning her feelings right now.

I sighed and lowered my book, looking down at the top of her head. Alice had done everything to put her slip up behind her, even torched the dress she was wearing that day. Meanwhile, I couldn’t stop thinking about it. The image of her with red eyes had burned itself into my brain and I saw it whenever I closed my eyes.

From the moment she had first told me about animal blood, it had been a certainty that I was going to become a vegetarian too. That my eyes would turn golden just like hers, and that we would join another coven within the decade—or even sooner. Alice had been getting more frequent visions of us meeting them just a few days before the incident. It was a sign of the event getting closer, she had said.

But now, with the image of her with perfect ruby eyes so vividly painted by my imagination, another possibility had formed inside my head.

I had had doubts about animals even before tasting their poor substitute blood for the first time. And the last months had only confirmed that this lifestyle was not for me. Compared to the revolting taste and unquenchable thirst, killing suddenly didn’t seem as bad anymore.

Sure, I still remembered the crushing weight of death but being around Alice would make it tolerable. I was confident in that assessment. And even though I hadn’t talked to her about it yet, I was almost certain that she wouldn’t mind it either. A lot of her reaction the other day was due to her feeling like she let me down, she had admitted that.

I could see it clear as day now. No limiting ourselves to one place at a time nor silently suffering through painful thirst as we tried to blend in with humans. Instead, we could travel. Maybe even spend some time with Peter and Charlotte. There were so many countries she had talked about. We would have to leave out the South and Italy, but other than that, the world would be hers. I could see us visiting cities by night and spending time in lush forests during the day. Crossing the Atlantic to Europe. Maybe even climbing a few mountains.

But there was one thing that kept me from sharing this idea with her.

I leaned forward to get a better look at the drawing she had been working on before disappearing into the future. It wasn’t a specific scene like countless others before. Instead, the five portraits were randomly scattered on the page. The Cullens. Would she be able to let them go?

As if she had heard my thoughts, an immense pain blossomed in Alice’s tiny body. The force of the unexpected emotion hit me like a battering ram before I could take any preventative measures. My body stiffened and my mind was wiped blank for a second. Then, I finally caught myself and got the situation under control. 

Alice started shuffling at my feet, but the unsettling sentiments didn’t disappear. Instead, shock and hysteria mixed with her paralyzing fear and the heart-breaking grief. Whatever she had seen, it couldn’t be good.

“No. No. No, no, no, no, no...”

I had been so preoccupied with protecting myself from her sudden outburst that I hadn’t even noticed that she started mumbling. The same word, over and over again. An endless stream of denial, irregularly interrupted by her sobbing.

“What did you see?” I asked, carefully placing a hand on her shoulder. The touch only intensified her effect on me, but I still hesitated to intervene. Emotions were a private thing, and I didn’t want to intrude. Not, if she wanted to feel this.

She winced as if my hand had burnt her and was on the other side of the room before I could react, frantically pulling at her hair.

“Alice, what’s going on?” I repeated my question, but she didn’t respond again. She was completely trapped, blinded by whatever terrifying thing she had seen.

I didn’t want to, but I had to. If she had seen danger coming, I needed to know. Immediately. And so, I took a firm hold on her emotions and pushed the darkness away, soothing her with all my might. 

Alice blinked, disoriented. Dazed by the sudden emptiness inside of her.

“Tell me what you saw,” I repeated once more, approaching her. She needed to get away from the window. If someone was coming, they would—

“They’re going to turn us down!” she shrieked, and I groaned under the renewed wave of panic she was summoning. I was able to keep it away for now, but if she continued to get herself worked up like this, I would reach my limits pretty soon.

“Alice, I need you to calm down,” I panted. 

A new sliver of worry, this time directed at me, demanded passage into her heart. I let it through.

“I-I’m sorry Jasper, this is all my fault,” she sobbed and hid her face behind her hands. Our vampiric nature robbed her of the tears but that didn’t make her crying any less painful.

I had to make a decision before her emotions became too much and overtook me as well. And so, I hesitantly let go of her sorrow and sadness, limiting myself to keeping the panic as far away from her as possible. Another tearless sob cut through the air as the emotions returned to her. It formed a big knot in my stomach. 

I reached her before the next cry could escape her throat and wrapped my arms around her tiny body, unable to believe that I was consoling Alice again. The second time this week. Alice, the endless array of sunshine and hopefulness that had managed to pull me from the darkest pits of my depression. Alice, who never once looked at me without a smile on her lips. That smile was now gone, replaced by a deep frown she hid in the soft fabric of my shirt.

“Are we in danger? Is someone coming?” Her previous outburst made me suspect that this wasn’t the case, but I needed to be sure. I couldn’t concentrate on her fully, not until I knew we were safe.

“No.” Her answer was little more than a breath, muffled by the cotton, but my sensitive ears picked it up anyway. 

I let my shoulders relax. At least her body would come to no harm. But her mind… That was an entirely different beast to tackle.

xxxx

I waited for a couple of hours, until the panic was no longer fighting my hold and stretching out its invisible claws in Alice’s direction, before I asked her again. “What did you see?”

The question evoked another sob, but it was more subdued than before. I suspected that her body simply lacked the strength to produce a more intense reaction right now.

“The Cullens,” she finally whispered. “They’re turning us down.”

The revelation hit me right in my gut. Not strong enough to make me double over but more than sufficient to spread a nauseating sensation throughout my whole upper body. 

Even though I had thought about an alternative way forward, there still was a side in me that longed for the peaceful happy ending she had promised on that rainy day in Philadelphia. A side that ached for the warm joy she always experienced when talking about what our life with the Cullens would be. It had been those emotions, that hope, that made me follow her on the first day. Losing it, would have meant losing her just a few weeks ago. But that was no longer the case.

I had spent days thinking of a different future with her. And frankly, I did no longer care what this future held in store. As long as Alice was in it, I would be fine.

“And then?” I asked. “What happens after that?”

Alice lifted her head from my chest, staring at me from her dark ochre eyes. “What do you mean ‘what then’? They turn us down, Jasper!”

I soothed the panic that developed inside of her. If we were going to talk about this, it needed to be in a calm, rational way. 

“I know. I just wondered if you saw what happened afterwards.”

She freed herself from my arms and took a step back. “You don’t understand. There is no afterwards. Our family is gone and… and I— I’m the reason for it.”

Her body started to tremble again, and I didn’t dare to interfere with her sadness. Not yet at least. Instead, I opted to distract her. “Tell me what exactly it is you saw. Why do they turn us away?”

She threw her hands in the air, frustration oozing from her pores and immediately overtaking the sadness. It was not the win I wanted, but I'd take it. 

“I don’t know. The process is still too uncertain right now, but the outcome is clear. They turn us away," she said.

I sighed and took a seat on the couch to our right. 

Alice observed me for a moment, before pulling the rocking chair closer and sitting down opposite me. “It started to flicker after the— incident. First, I thought it was them moving again that caused the vision of our meeting to falter but then— I had red eyes in this vision, Jasper. They were always golden before. Now they’re red and the Cullens are turning us away."

I sent her a wave of calm before replying. “I don’t think this is your fault. I’ve been thinking about it and… What if this is not an accident but our decision? What if we just decide to go back to normal? To live our immortal lives like they are supposed to be lived?”

Her eyes widened. “That’s not an option, Jasper.”

“What if it was?” I had expected her to be apprehensive at first. She had lived with the idea of being with the Cullens, pursuing a vegetarian lifestyle as she liked to call it, for many years. It was only natural for her to be hesitant. 

“You know that I’ve been struggling. This whole animal blood thing is not working out for me. I am thirsty all the time and feeding only makes me feel sick for hours. Yesterday, I missed half of what you told me about New York because my mind fantasised about the masses of people and how no-one would notice one or two of them disappearing,” I continued. “I don’t want this to be our life.”

She reached for my hands and sent a shiver of consoling sentiments up my arm. “Jasper, I—”

I cut her off. “You said it yourself, this isn’t going to get better any time soon. I don’t want to spend our first decades together in constant pain, always thirsty and thinking about how I’ll kill the next unfortunate human soul that crosses our path. I don’t want you to worry about whether we’ll get too close to one of them. Blaming yourself if you don’t see it early enough.”

Alice was waiting to protest, I could see it in her eyes, sense it in her bones. But I didn’t let her get this far. 

“You would blame yourself, I felt it that day in Philadelphia.”

Her disapproval subsided but she still pulled her lips into a pout.

“We don’t have to do this to ourselves. I’m not looking forward to the killing but if that’s what it takes, I’ll gladly take it. It would be different, I know I can take it if you’re by my side. We—”

This time it was her that interrupted me. Her voice was soft, airy and crystal clear yet laced with a painful undertone that pierced my marble skin as if it were butter. 

“But it wouldn’t, Jasper. I’ve seen it.” She gently squeezed my hands. “I’m sorry that I pushed this on you without explanation. It wasn’t right, this should have been your choice from the beginning. But it is the only choice.”

I could sense that she was scared to continue, deeply upset by the memories of past visions she was undoubtedly thinking about. 

“I’ve been getting more and more visions about it lately, probably because you’ve been pondering it,” she explained. “I’ve seen us with red eyes. I’ve seen me trying to help you, console you. It’s not enough. No matter what I do, no matter how much I love you, I cannot protect you from incorporeal feelings that are as untouchable to me as the air itself.”

I shuddered from the darkness that flooded her emotional compass. So much grief. “What did you see?”

“If we go down this path, there is no future for us. It has been changing, sometimes it’s just a few months away, sometimes decades. But all the visions, all the futures I see of us with red eyes end with you helplessly drowning in depression and me being alone again.” 

She gently placed a hand on my cheek and forced me to look into her eyes. “I’m afraid of being alone again, Jazz. I can’t do it anymore.” 

The pain in her words urged me to pull her close, to put my arms around her and protect her from whatever horrors she had seen. But how could I protect her from something a future version of myself would inflict?

“So this is it?” I muttered. “The die has been cast? Fate has spoken? The only path for us to be together is animal blood?”

“My visions can change, you know that,” she admitted. “It’s possible that we will find a loophole somewhere down the way, but the chances are slim. And I’m not willing to take these odds. Plus, I really love the Cullens and I know you will too.”

I sighed. The picture of her ruby red eyes slowly dissolved in my mind and took with it all the hopes I’d had for an easier future. Perhaps, this was how it was always meant to be. I had spent a good part of my second life inflicting pain on thousands of creatures, vampire and human alike. Maybe it was only fair that I lost a few decades of the third one to pain as well.

“What do you think?” she asked cautiously. 

I raised an eyebrow and looked at her. “Does it even matter? Your visions don’t leave much of a choice.”

“It does to me. This is our future, we’re talking about. Whatever we do, I want us to decide on it together.”

I sighed and closed my hands around hers. “I want us to be together for as long as possible. And if the only way to achieve that is by forcing myself to drink animal blood for the rest of my immortal life, I will do that.”

A smile danced on Alice’s lips just as hope and affection were waltzing inside her heart. I had made her happy and that was all I cared about. 

However, the joy didn’t fully reach her eyes yet. She was still holding back. “And the Cullens?”

I chuckled. “Being with them will make you happy, won’t it?”

She nodded determinedly. 

“Then being with them will make me happy too.”

That was all it took. The last ounce of doubt lifted from her and joy flooded every single cell of her body. A small, elated shout escaped her throat as she pushed herself from the rocking chair and straight into my lap. 

I shouldn’t have been surprised by her reaction, having sensed the emotional build-up seethe beneath her skin. Still, I found myself overwhelmed by the sudden outburst of affection, unsure of what the best course of action would be. 

But Alice didn’t give me time to overthink it. Instead, she wrapped her arms and legs around my upper body, embracing me tightly and showering me in emotions that would have immediately intoxicated even the most resolved man. She had no intention of letting go anytime soon. And I didn’t want her to.

[yandere-sins]

i just binged-read all of your BNHA works and omg... 🥲 you don’t understand the rollercoaster of emotions i just went through! can i please request a story of Kirishima noticing that Bakugou has a crush on his darling. then when Kirishima confronts Bakugou about it, things get heated/physical? keep up the good work, i love your writings! 🥰💗

Thank you so much for reading through them, I am so glad you enjoyed them! :D And thanks for requesting ♥

»»———————— ♡ ————————««     

“I don’t fucking know either!”

Loud. Terribly loud were the two voices shouting at each other in your room, the little bit of safe haven you owned, entirely disrupted by the two men arguing. It was only made worse by the fact that they were arguing about you rather than anything else, their attention involuntarily always coming back to you after every sentence.

You had long ducked away, slipped into the area between the wall and your bed, the only place you had claimed as yours ever since you were forced to live here. It was barely spacious enough for you to breathe in, but it was too small to force you out of as well, which you always appreciated. On most days, Kirishima would treat you kindly and with a strange understanding despite the situation and relationship you two had.

But just as quickly did his mood change, his tendencies to demand more than you were willing to give being a constant point of stress between you two. Hiding yourself back here was the closest to some privacy you had, and now than ever, you just wanted to disappear from this pitiful existence. You didn’t even want to hear about what they were talking, let alone witness how the conversation would go.

“Fuck,” Bakugou groaned loudly, rubbing his hands over his face. “Of all the people...”

“Yes. Of all the people, it just had to be my partner you fell in love with,” Kirishima hissed back, equally angered. You couldn’t even pinpoint for how long the two had been discussing this topic, but it left a bad taste in everyone’s mouth, as it seemed. Sighing quietly as to not draw more attention to you, you buried your head in your knees.

For the longest time, you had believed those two were good people. Sure, Bakugou was a hot-headed bastard sometimes, but together with Kirishima, who shone with his kindness, you three always had a lot of fun. When Kiri confessed to you, you had been so happy! What you thought was love probably was more like a deep friendship, but you didn’t say ‘no’ and went out with him.

But then the craziness started. It was subtle at first, and you confided in Bakugou, who told you, you were just imagining things. No one seemed to notice how Kirishima started to polarize your time constantly, how, when he wanted cuddles, he simply pulled you into an embrace even if you didn’t want to. How every problem was solved with ‘Just don’t go there anymore, you can stay here! I’ll take care of everything!’

You very quickly found out you had been wrong both with him being a good person and you being in love with him. But then, of all people, he still allowed Bakugou to come over! Where he kept you locked in his apartment all day while he played hero outside, he still allowed your friend to visit whenever. Seeing that Bakugou was not going to help you, no matter how much you pleaded with him to save you, broke your heart. It completely shattered you.

Honestly, you wanted to believe that you three had been friends once, but whatever happened to make the two into what they were now, it scared you. It frightened you so much that you barely slept at night, rarely managed to eat more than two spoons of your food, and rendered you unable to focus on anything if not ensuring you were safe when things got too much to bear. And now, your body shaking more than ever, you had to witness how even Bakugou seemed to have changed sides, and that scared you even more.

You thought he was just loyal to his friend by refusing to help you, but by god, he was the same as that maniac Kirishima.

“Look, I didn’t choose that either! But you knew I liked them way before you confessed!”

At that, Kirishima only clicked his tongue, unable to say anything in return to counter this claim. So it was right, Bakugou had liked you all along. All these things about Kirishima’s and your love life must have been so painful for him to listen to in this case. However, right then, as you overheard their conversation unwillingly, you didn’t feel bad for him even a second.

“I wish it was anyone else, but it’s them!”

“Well, are you sure?” Kirishima grumbled, and you kind of understood Bakugou’s frustration as his friend didn’t seem to want to hear the truth. “Yes, I am damn sure!”

“If that’s the case...” Kirishima sighed before you heard steps drawing closer. “[Name]? Can you come out? You know it’s rude not to show your cute face to our guest.”

Even if he spoke his words in a sugary voice, nothing about Kirishima could calm you. Slowly looking up at him again, you saw him reach his hand out to you, knowing fully well that he couldn’t get you out of that gap even if he probably wanted. The mood in the room was tense and full of heated tempers. Their back and forth had only made everything more awkward and uncomfortable as it already was for you.

Inwardly, you wanted nothing more than to stay in your hideout, hoping it would all quickly pass, but crossing Bakugou’s gaze briefly, you saw his brows only furrow more, and you wagered if taking Kirishima’s offer was better as long as he still asked nicely before either of them would lose their patience with you, too.

Slipping out of the space without taking his help, it wasn’t long before Kirishima picked you up anyway. The man had as much understanding about boundaries as you had about what even was wrong with him. He sat you down in his lap on the couch, waving Bakugou over, who reluctantly took a seat on the furthest armrest from you.

“Tell him, [Name]. You love me, right? You want to be with me, right?”

Opening your mouth, you wanted to protest, but Bakugou stole the words from you before you could talk.

“Bullshit! They’ve always been complaining because you suck at being a boyfriend! They could do so much better and be with me, right [Name]? Tell that idiot!”

You felt like a dog, with both owners screaming at their furbaby to chose them and go to the one it likes more.

Their back-and-forth continued, Kirishima swearing his love to you up and down while Bakugou praised his abilities to be better in... every way. Kirishima liked to remind you how much ‘fun’ you two had together and how much he did and would do for you in the future. Bakugou liked to argue with his friend, using insults and belittling comments about his plans. Neither made a very good impression, and their voices rose to a volume again, making you wish you had earplugs to drown out at least a little bit of their shouting.

Instead, you lifted your hands to your ears, cupping them as to drown out the sounds, hoping it was over soon. Why couldn’t they both leave you alone? Why did you have to end up in this situation, not once, but twice? Why did the two best friends you had turned out to be this crazy? Crazy about you?

There still were so many questions to be answered, and you curled into yourself as you spiraled down into overthinking everything that happened. From regrets you had, to disbelieve you still harbored, to the despair you felt as you couldn’t pinpoint when this nightmare would end.

You were so inside your own head, you didn’t notice how their voices slowly calmed down, their hearts breaking as they saw you so overwhelmed by the situation. Kirishima and Bakugou exchanged a few glances, and even in Bakugou’s serious and furious expression, there were hints of worries to find that only his friends could discern.

“How about you move in with us... and maybe they can make a decision then. Not that I’d just give them to you, but I can’t watch them being sad about us fighting. You always meant a lot to us.”

Huffing, Bakugou turned his head away, hiding the flustered red spreading on his cheeks. “I won’t share with you, you Dumbass! They’re mine. They love me much more than you freak!”

“Doubt it,” Kirishima chuckled as he brought his hand to your head, brushing over it comfortingly. He had never been afraid to say his opinion openly, a trait you had always found remarkable and remarkable stupid at the same time. “Whatever,” Bakugou grunted, standing up before storming out of the door without another word of goodbye, Kirishima sighing before he pulled you close.

“I hope this makes you happy,” he mumbled, not even knowing you weren’t listening anymore. “I’d do anything if it makes you happy.”

By the evening, a new roommate was sharing the apartment with you and Kirishima. They didn’t talk, neither at dinner nor before or after that. You didn’t mind the silence, but you did mind having to hold one hand of each as they decided to watch a movie, ever so often squeezing to gain your attention and giving you grins when you looked at them. As if that equaled making a decision which you liked better, just because they had a few seconds of your attention.

But even worse were the changes. The first thing Bakugou did was move the bed. Your hideout was no longer as he decided you didn’t need it. And where you had struggled to keep Kiri from you, you now were too scared to shove away Bakugou. Perhaps, you really had it nice with Kirishima. You pondered about it all night as you were squeezed between them, their arguing going deep into the early hours before they fell asleep, snoring away into your ears.

Would it have been easier if you had just chosen one of them?

Or would it be fatal to ever choose between them?

[violet-knox]

Hi, I would like to make a request but first I would want to thank you, regardless of whether my request is accepted, It really makes me so happy how you portrait and write for Severus, it means so much to me, I don't think I can thank you enough but thank you, thank you so much and about my request, if you can I would like to request a young Severus x reader sweet smut story with lots of tender, meaningful touches and words, he deserves so much to be loved and wanted and feel good about him.

Study Break

Pairing: Young!Snape x Female!Reader

Summary: Fed up with Severus studying for your N.E.W.Ts 24/7, you decide to give Severus a well deserved study break. 

Warnings: Smut. Lots of smut (Oral sex, vaginal sex, hand job, fingering, humping, implied light dom/sub)

Word Count: 6061

A/N: Oh my anon! Thank you so much for your lovely words!! 😭😭 You are too kind and your ask made me smile every single time I read it from the first day I got it! I will truly miss having it in my draft box, but I’m very honoured to finally have written your request. 

I think I’m beginning to get more comfortable with smut. I definitely need more practice but considering the word count of this one shot, I’d say there is definite potential. Hopefully I’ll eventually find the write style for me and we can get to the more.. raunchy stuff 😏😏😏

You watched Severus pick up what had to be the tenth set of books that evening, placing them next to the others on the table in your own little corner of the library with a thump. You sighed and set down your quill, your eyes so strained you weren’t sure if there truly were four towers of books around you or if you were just seeing double. Severus took a seat back beside you and resumed his quest to memorize every spell, every potion and learn everything there was to know about the Wizarding world. That’s at least what you’d convinced yourself that he was doing because no one in the history of time had to have studied for their N.E.W.Ts as intensely as he was currently claiming to do. Day after day, week after week, you’d walk up to find him with a book in his hand barely eating a thing as he made his way to the library. You were beginning to feel more like his overly concerned mother than his girlfriend and that really didn’t sit well with you. You were tired of having to force him to take breaks if only to eat and sleep. His health was important to you and it hurt to see him suffering so much for a grade. 

“Sev, I can’t do this anymore,” you told him with a heavy sigh, your fingers rubbing your temple as you closed your eyes to try and regain your sanity. Severus snapped his head towards you, his eyes wide as he studied your posture. His heart beat rapidly, sweat trickling down his forehead as he anticipated your next words. “I think we need a break.”

His heart broke and he felt it fall to the floor, shattered in a million pieces. He’d always feared this day would come; the day you realized you couldn’t handle him anymore, the day you realized you deserved better than him. He could sense the tension, the frustration you felt these past couple of weeks as he buried himself in his studies to distract him from the truth. He’d used it as an excuse to escape this moment and found himself in a downhill spiral of denial and avoidance. 

“F-from us?” His throat was so dry, he could hardly find the courage to speak, afraid that when he did, it would truly be over. He wanted to tell you he could do better, that he hadn’t been himself these past few weeks, letting his fear of losing you cloud his judgment, but he couldn’t find the strength to do it knowing you were right to ask for a break. 

“From studying!” You lightly pushed his shoulder with a chuckle, a bit taken back by his assumption. Your smile slowly faded as concern returned to your face. Had this been why he’d thrown himself into all these books? Did he want to end things with you?

“I-I know (Y/N). I know I haven’t exactly been the best boyfriend lately and I truly am sorry for that,” he said, taking the second chance the universe had granted him to try and make things right with you. By Merlin’s grace, you hadn’t broken up with him and he knew if he was that scared of losing you, he had to do something to change how he was treating you. “But these exams, they will determine our entire future! They’re important!”

“You’re important Sev! You can’t keep pushing yourself like this,” you argued back, hoping to knock some sense into him and help him let go of whatever was driving him to act this way at least long enough to unwind a bit. “You need to take a break every once in a while.” 

You smirked as you moved your hand from your lap to his, slowly sliding up his leg. Severus rose a brow at you, unsure about your advances until he felt you cup him over his trousers. His eyes widened as he jumped out of his skin, quickly grabbing your wrist and pulling your hand off of him, only to be reminded you were a Slytherin for a reason. With your free hand, you slipped two fingers beneath his trousers before he tore you away from him once more. 

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?!” he asked in a hushed voice, his face burning red, hoping no one was around to see that smirk on your face while he was holding your wrists in the air like he was just about to push you against the bookshelves and claim the entire library as your own personal make out room. 

You said nothing as you pressed your lips to his, smiling as you kissed him. Severus jerked back, but you were persistent, keeping yourself interlocked with him as he kissed back and finally began to ease up on the tension he held, slowly letting go of your wrist to lean into your kiss. He turned towards you and held you by the waist as you kissed him, your own hands subtly returning to his body. You did your best to distract him, one hand pulling on his tie as the other fell down to his lap. You could tell he’d lost himself in you as he usually did when he deepened the kiss, giving you the opportunity you needed to cautiously slither your fingers over his bulge. For a brief moment, you thought Severus had finally seen it your way and taken the chance to indulge in the moment when he moaned only to be stripped away from such hope as he broke your kiss and brushed your hand away. 

“Severus, relax. No one ever comes to this corner of the library.” You needed him to trust you, to let you help him take a break for once because you weren’t sure how much more strain your relationship could take if he kept pushing you away like this, claiming the exams were more important. “Trust me and just let go.”

Severus found himself enchanted by your words, sweet whispers of lust and devotion, all meant for him and him alone. His eyes softened as his shoulders dropped, letting you place your hands over his arms, your lips trailing soft, sensual kisses along his jawline. He looked over your shoulder and down the only corridor leading to your forbidden corner, his hands holding your waist as you got closer to him. His gut told him to keep watch, worried you’d get caught and banned from the library forever, but his heart, his mind were with you and how good your lips felt against his skin, sucking on his neck, leaving small love marks as your fingers lost themselves in his hair.

His breath thickened, a small whimper escaping his throat as he gave into your seduction. With one hand firmly gripping your waist, the other slid up your side, resting on the side of your breast. You moaned with delight when you felt him accepting the idea of a well deserved break and pulled on his hair just enough to encourage him to continue. Eagerly, he cupped your breast over your uniform, kneading it in his hand as you continued your quest to ease his stress. With your free hand, you slowly slid it down his chest until you’d found the outline of his cock. Severus bucked into your hand as he squeezed your tender breast, feeling a spark ignite within him. He held himself back, suppressing the need to let go as he reminded himself where you both were.

It had been so long since he’d felt like this, free from the stress, from the pressure of school. It had been so long since he’d felt this close to you. Your relationship had never been defined so physically, neither of you relying on the sexual passion between you when it came to the love you had for one another. When you’d started dating, he knew he’d never let your relationship end up that way, partially afraid of his own physical abilities and partially as a reminder of why he fell in love with you in the first place. But he’d forgotten how good it felt to trust you completely, to let himself be yours for just a brief moment. He forgot how unwinding it was to mindlessly lose himself in your caring touches, your soft kisses and tender words. 

“You’re so brilliant Sev,” you whispered to him between kisses, loving how he always fell apart at the compliments you’d give him in such heated moments. “You’re the most talented Wizard I know and I’m so proud of the person you are, the achievements you’ll make.”

You spoke like you were predicting the future, knowing all Severus needed was to realize there was someone who truly believed in him. He only ever threw himself into his studies like he did the past few weeks when he was feeling discouraged and abandoned. You’d hoped when you got together that he’d never feel that way again and it was true for the first two years. But it seemed the pressure of graduation and the idea of building a future affected him more than you’d realized and you didn’t notice until he’d buried himself in books and parchment. 

You’d made yourself a promise that day you’d finally shared your first kiss, one you intended to keep now until the end of your days; you’d never let Severus feel alone or unappreciated again. And indeed, you’d kept that promise today as you felt him through his trousers, his mind completely off the need to study until he passed out. You could feel his arousal growing as he tightened his hold on you, feeling as much of you as he could until you found him pushing you off him once again. 

For a moment, you thought you’d completely failed and was about to grunt in frustration before you saw him quickly packing up his belongings like the library had just been set on fire. You relaxed in your chair as you watched him so eager to pack up. Crossing your legs, you made no notion of leaving, getting his attention as he stopped what he was doing to stare at you.

“We’re going somewhere private,” he stated, throwing his bag over his shoulder as he wordlessly commanded you to pack up your own belongings. A part of you wanted to tease him, to lightly protest and claim you already were in private, but your own need for him had grown sufficiently and you couldn’t wait to unbutton his shirt and watch him pull off his trousers for you.

Pushing yourself to your feet, you gathered your things and let Severus take your hand as he marched out of the library. He looked so focussed as you both made your way after what felt like an endless amount of stairs. Neither of you knew where you were going, all your past adventures usually taking place in the boy’s dorm when no one else was around, but with exams coming up, students were scattered all over Hogwarts, every corner scattered with books and endless rolls of parchment as everyone studied. Finally, you made it to a floor that wasn’t swarming with people, walking down a hallway that became less and less occupied until you began to near the end. Stopping near a tapestry that depicted the attempt of Barnabad the Barmy to teach trolls ballet, you both looked around, trying to decide where to go, Severus making his choice first and pulling you with him as he started walking down the hallway which you knew would only lead to more classrooms.

“No Sev, let’s go this way,” you told him, tugging him back as you pointed to the corner you’d never explored before. Severus however didn’t agree with your decision, pulling you back towards the hallway. 

“Are you mad? We’ll be lost for days if we go down there,” he claimed. You smirked, wondering if that was really so bad. It would at the very least give you both some privacy which is what you were currently looking for and if some tragic accident were to occur to his textbooks and they were tossed out the window, perhaps he’d finally take a proper break. 

“Wait Sev look!” You pulled him back and stopped to look at the wall where a door had suddenly appeared. Severus looked at you in shock, swearing it wasn’t there a moment ago. He didn’t stop you as you went to turn the knob, opening the door to what looked like a bedroom stripped straight out of the honeymoon suite at a fancy hotel. A large king-sized bed was standing in the middle of the room against the back wall surrounded by a sheer silver curtain. Candles were the only source of light in the room, floating around the ceiling, lower than the ones in the Great Hall. 

Without a second though, you ran inside, dragging Severus with you, closing the door once he’d entered. You put down your bag and looked around in awe, absolutely astounded that such a room existed in the castle. It felt surreal, like the room was alive, enchanted in some way to serve you in any way you pleased. Hogwarts was such an amazing place and you’d learned long ago never to take for granted what the castle had to offer, and this was no exception. 

You walked over to the bed, shedding your clothing along the way. You dropped your robes and removed your shoes and socks before you pulled back the curtains and took a seat on the bed, smirking at Severus as you removed your tie. You sighed as you got comfortable, staring him down and kneeling on the bed with legs spread wide, slowly undoing the buttons on your shirt. 

“(Y/N), don’t you think this is a little too-”

“Nope!” you protested before he could even think to finish that sentence. “Severus this is absolutely perfect and after these past few weeks, we both deserve some time off, just a few hours to relax. A release from all that stress.”

You shrugged off your shirt and tossed it to join the rest of your scattered belongings. Slowly you began to crawl to the edge of the bed, Severus hesitantly dropping his own schoolbag as he walked towards you. Your smile grew as you watched him remove his robes from off his shoulders. He took a seat beside you and began removing his shoes as you snuck up behind him and placed your hands on his shoulders. Slowly, you began to massage him, Severus leaning into you as he closed his eyes, smiling at how caring your touch felt. You watched him with content as he finally seemed at peace, nothing around him to remind him of the burden he’d created for himself, nothing but your love for him to fill the room. 

Slowly opening his eyes, he looked up at you, returning your smile before you gently pressed your lips to his. You took your time with this kiss, your lips completely in sync as he lost himself in your soft lips, his hand buried in your hair as yours slowed their motions and wrapped around his waist and shoulder. Without parting, he kept his hold on you as he crawled backwards onto the bed, leaning back and letting himself go as you took control, throwing your legs over him and settling atop his lap. Severus moaned as he dropped his free hand over your leg, slowly slipping it under your skirt. 

You finally parted, Severus pushing himself up as you sat, happily smiling at him. Tugging on his tie, you removed it from his neck before you helped him unbutton his shirt, quickly throwing it to the side, looking forward to the struggle of finding your clothing again when it was time to get dressed. Severus pulled you in by your waist as you pushed his hair over his shoulder, grinning with content before you began to pepper him with kisses. You pressed your lips everywhere you could reach as you buried your face between the crock of his neck, one arm thrown over his shoulder, your hand in his hair. Severus pressed you into him as much as he could, merging your bodies together before unclasping your bra, needing to feel as much of you as he could. 

Briefly parting from him, you happily relieved yourself of your bra, wasting no time pressing your lips to his, your bare chest against his, hands wrapped around one another so tightly. You grinned against his lips as you shifted in his lap, feeling his hard cock strained against his trousers. He definitely wasn’t thinking about those exams now. 

Breaking away, you slide your hand down his chest to feel him through his trousers, Severus leaning back as he let you explore him with a smile. He watched you intently as you moved off him and undid his belt, tugging on his trousers enough to release his shaft from its clothed prison. Your fingers gently wrapped around him, his breath held in anticipation, his heart raging against his chest as you slowly moved up his length only to stop at the head. You locked eyes with him, happily watching his torment as your thumb grazed his slit, smearing precum as you made small, slow circles. 

“(Y/N),” he moaned as he bucked his hips in desperation. His voice was caught in his throat, his mind barely able to form a thought as you slowly began to slide your hand down your shaft, your grip on him so loose, taking your time and twisting your wrist along the way. “Please.”

His whispered plea, was a moment you immediately committed to memory, never wanting to forget how easily undone he became from your touch. You were pleased with yourself and your mischievous spur of the moment plan to help him relax, grateful it ended like this with him squirming beneath you for your touch. 

“Please what?” you whispered back, keeping your pace steady as you waited for him to make his demands, knowing full well it didn’t matter what they were. You were in control and he was all too aware of that.  

“F-faster.” You could tell he was holding back the temptation to try and take mastery over you like he always did, but it was suppressed by his need to let go, something you were rather grateful to see. If this were any other time, you knew he’d tease you back or do anything in his power to keep his pride and hide the fact he’d completely submitted to you. But the stress of the last few weeks had truly gotten to him more than you knew. It was clear to you that at times, he needed someone to take control, to help him steer through life, someone to show him he was loved, that he mattered and was worthy of such a pure thing. 

Instead of adhering to his request, you dipped down and pressed your lips to the head of his cock, your tongue very gently licking up precum before you wrapped your lips around him. Severus became a moaning mess as you continued to tease him, taking your time as you sucked on the end of his cock. He bucked his hips in desperation, all his energy focussed on restraining himself, but he couldn’t help his growing need as you slowly stroked him, sucking him so gently. 

Satisfied with the groans of frustration he let out, you took him into your mouth as far as you could manage. Severus fell back on the bed with a thump, fisting the bed sheets beneath him as you set a slow even pace, bobbing your head and gliding your tongue on the underside of his shaft. You listened to every sound that came out of his mouth, your panties dampening at how lustful his moans were, how much pleasure was seeped off his tongue from your touches. Increasing your speed, your hand stroking what your mouth couldn’t reach, you heard him coming completely undone, doing his hardest to stay in control, but it had clearly been too long since his last release.

“I-I’m close,” he barely managed to mumble as his cock twitched in your mouth. With a pop, you pulled yourself off him and immediately, he regretted trying to warn you at all. He groaned as you sat up and leaned over him, stroking his hair as he rolled tumbled down off the edge of his climax. You felt bad for denying him his release, knowing he so badly needed it, but you couldn’t let the evening end just yet. You were just getting started and by the end of it, you were sure Severus would thank you. 

“What the bloody hell did you do that for?!” he blurted out, his eyes closed shut as he felt every muscle in his body tighten, his heart pounding so hard as he tried to focus on your fingers running through his hair rather than the agony he felt in his groin. 

It tore at you to hear him so upset, guilt growing in your chest from the weight of his words. You thought perhaps it was a mistake to pull away, but it was too late now. All you could do was hope to make it up to him and eventually give him the release he so very much deserved. You said nothing, fearing no words could sooth him now. You focussed your attention instead on comforting him as you continued to stroke his hair, your lips finding his jaw as you desperately kissed him. His breath slowed, his muscles relaxing as he felt you pour out your love for him. Staying in that position, you waited until he’d completely eased his hold on you without exchanging another word. 

Severus had almost wished he could spend the rest of the night cuddled in your arms, a small whine of protest slipping his tongue when you pushed yourself off of him. He watched you hop off the bed and begin searching the ground of your robes, removing your wand from them before setting it on the bed and smiling at him as you pulled on the waistband of your skirt. He found himself once again enchanted by you as you pulled down your skirt and panties, leaving you completely bare standing in front of him before you stepped forward and reached down to free him of the remaining clothing he had on. He felt that lustful spark reignited itself as you crawled back on the bed and watched you cast a protection spell before seating yourself in his lap, pushing him back to meet the soft cloud like pillows. 

He let out a groan of bliss, his hands sliding up and down your legs as he enjoyed the light pressure of your hands over his chest, your eyes burrowing into his. You leaned down and kissed him passionately, your tongue gliding against his bottom lip before you found yourself fighting for dominance, Severus submitting rather quickly as you explored the inside of his mouth. You knew what he was anticipating, and though the guilt from before still lingered, your mission to keep the evening as lengthy as possible remained your top priority. It seemed however, that despite Severus’ willingness to give up control, he was hoping to push your buttons enough to bypass any further teasing and give him what he wanted. As you kissed, you felt his hands exploring your body, one finding itself over your breast, squeezing and tugging while the other lay over your thigh, his thumb pressed to your clit and running circles over your dripping slit. 

You moaned into his mouth and felt him smiling in satisfaction, leading you to break the kiss in retaliation, grasping the hand on your thigh as you began rocking yourself over his hard cock. You slid across his length, eliciting a moan from him as his hands immediately went to your hips, pressing into them, urging you to go faster. You held back from giggling as you regained the upper hand, controlling his needs as your pussy rubbed against his cock. 

“(Y/N),” he begged in desperation, his eyes shut as he threw his head back, his brows furrowed with frustration. You loved hearing your name spoken in such a needing tone; a tone you knew he’d only speak for you. Planting your hands on either side of his head, you stopped your motion all together, Severus wide eyed as he wouldn’t dare blink and miss a second of this moment, his heart pounding with anticipation for what you would do next. 

Slowly slipping one hand down, you grabbed hold of his cock and lined it up to your entrance, slowly sinking down until you were completed seated on him, Severus moaning the whole way down as you held your breath. You both panted as you adjusted to the feeling, your warm dripping wet walls tight around him, his hard length filling you up to the hilt, fitting so perfectly inside you. Without warning, you began to move your hips, grinding yourself on him without pumping his cock, knowing it would drive him mad. Nothing could ever compare to the feeling of Severus filling you up as you rubbed your clit against his pelvis, the slightest movement sending waves of pleasure through you. But the first time you’d done this, Severus had flipped you over in frustration, pounding into you with such force and clearly that same thought crept to the forefront of his mind now as you continued to tease him, leading him to believe you were ready to spend the next ten hours prioritizing your pleasure before you’d consider letting him come. You continued to grind yourself until he couldn’t take it anymore, his grip on you so tight as he groaned in annoyance. 

“(Y/N), please,” he moaned for you once more, pleading for you to ride him and send him over the edge. He’d always loved your smile, but in this moment, he could truly see the mischief behind it, and it frustrated him to no end knowing you had complete control over his pleasure and his ability to feel release wash over him. 

“Please what Severus? You have to tell me what you want baby,” you said almost innocently, like you had no earthly idea what he could possibly want. 

“Please ride me. Let me come.” His voice was barely above a whisper as he made his demands clear. He was rarely ever so direct, his feelings hidden behind a barrier it had taken years for you to break down and you couldn’t lie, it felt good to have him beg for you like this.

“All you had to do was ask,” you whispered with a smile. 

Deciding he’d suffered long enough, you removed yourself from him, slamming your hips back down hard and fast. He’d been so good for you tonight, so compliant, even dragging you out of the library for privacy, earning him a well deserved reward. You began to ride him as fast and as hard you could, your breasts bouncing with every thrust, his moans filling the room as you panted from the friction between your legs. You felt the knot in your core tighten, threatening to snap as his cock reached deeper and deeper inside you with every thrust you made. 

Severus couldn’t keep his eyes off you, his mind entirely focussed on the pulses of pleasure he felt every time you slammed back down on his cock. His eyes flickered between your breasts and the sight of you taking him so fully. One hand eventually slid back up your body to grip one of your breasts, enjoying the moans you gave when he twisted and teased your nipples. He let out his own groans as his line of sight dropped back down to watch his cock appear and disappear inside you. It didn’t take long for him to feel his release building up, electing to opt out of warning you in fear you’d deny him his much needed orgasm again. 

It all happened so fast, Severus stopping his motions as he held your hips still, pressing them down on him, his cock pulsating inside you as he came. You were shocked and more than a little disappointed that your ride had been over so quickly, your own needs still not fulfilled as you watched him groan, his eyes closed, his release lasting longer than you’d seen before. 

“Severus!” you shouted, playfully shoving his chest, the frown on your face was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. You removed yourself from him and sat back as he planted his elbows behind him, looking up at you. He felt guilt and sadness seep into his chest as his high died down. He’d never felt so good in his life, the release you gave him one he was sure to remember but was it worth it if you were to be upset with him for not following the unspoken rules of the bedroom?

“I-I’m sorry,” he said, almost choking on his words, hoping you felt the sincerity in his apology. He knew it was wrong to have focused on his pleasure, neglecting yours, but in the moment, his cock begging for release, it was all he could think of. Grabbing hold of your thighs, he took you by surprise as he flipped you over, hovering over you as he stared deep into your eyes, apologizing with everything he had. “I can make it up to you.”

“You better,” you whispered, that warm look he gave you melting away any resentment you had towards him. His eyes always carried so much weight with them, reflecting a much older age than the rest of his body and you absolutely loved them. They were always the one thing that helped you decipher is emotions while charming you in times like these, coaxing forgiveness from you. Resistance was always futile, but you tried anyways, tried to remember not to let him off so easy, to make him earn forgiveness. Yet even in this moment, you found yourself completely enchanted by him, knowing if he asked to head back to the library right now, you’d oblige against your own wishes. 

You carefully watched him as he slowly leaned down, his lips meeting your chest, planting a kiss between your breasts before circling each one; a kiss placed on every side. You arched your back into his touch, your hands gripping his hair as your head was thrown back, your eyes closed. A cloud of lust enveloped you as he continued his path down, leaving a hand over your breast, very gently squeezing. Severus focused his full attention on you and the sounds you offered him as his lips found your hips, a kiss placed on each of them before he planted a final one right above your clit. You moaned with desire, your hips bucking before he used his free hand to hold you down. 

Severus couldn’t help but tease you as you did to him earlier, his tongue barely grazing your swollen clit as he sucked on your skin before slowly moving down. As he began to taste you, he pulled back and gave a light lick from your entrance to the end of your clit, the gasp you gave him exciting him further. Letting go of your breast, he hooked his arms beneath your thighs, lifting you up enough to give him full access as he began to lap up all the juices that had flown out of you, your moans music to his ears. Severus had only eaten you out once before, the pleasure you felt that day something you’d never forgotten, but this felt so different. He was more experienced and determined this time, he was confident as he sucked and licked your clit, his tongue teasing your entrance.

Every lick sent shivers through your body, your core aching for more when his tongue began to prod you. You felt his nose press against you, grinding into your clit as he pressed his tongue inside you. It didn’t feel nearly as fulfilling as his cock, but you loved the feeling he gave you now as he pumped his tongue in and out of you, flicking every which way as he pressed his thumb to you the nub between your folds. He ran circles in sync with his pumps and you couldn’t help but try and grind into him despite his hold on you. 

“More,” you moaned desperately, feeling a knot form as he moved his lips back up to suck on your clit. He pressed two fingers to your entrance and easily slipped them in, pumping you hard and fast. You moaned with every push, every lick of his tongue sending waves of pleasure through you, his fingers long enough to reach deep inside you. Hooking them as he pulled back out, you couldn’t help but squirm beneath him, that knot you felt threatening to snap with every move he made. 

Burying your fingers deeper into his hair, you gripped him tightly, eliciting moans of his own as he fastened his pace, wanting to feel you cum around his fingers, your juices spilling out of you more and more as he continued to please you. The faster he went, the more you could feel your release building up, bringing you closer to the edge, your nipples so hard, your clit throbbing from the stimulation. It only took a few more pumps to find your release, your insides exploding with pleasure as your walls collapsed around his fingers, his tongue lapping up all your juices. He slowed his pace and helped you ride out your high until your groans of satisfaction turned into soft, satisfied moans. He licked his fingers with a hum of his own, smiling as he crawled back up to you, kissing your lips and letting you taste yourself on his lips before rolling over to lay beside you. 

“Have I been forgiven?” He whispered with a smirk as you rolled over to meet his eyes with yours. You smiled in return and let out a soft sigh. Once again you found yourself completely enchanted by the look he gave you, so desperately needing your approval, to know he’d done right by you and repented for his mistake. 

“Always,” you whispered back to him as you brought a hand up to brush his hair away from his face. Severus gently captured your hand in his as you brought it down to his cheek, pressing it against his skin as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the afterglow surrounding you both in the magic room made just for you. 

“Good,” he mumbled under his breath, unable to bear the thought of disappointing you. He was beyond happy in this moment, your relationship feeling stronger than ever before, thankful you’d pushed him to let off some steam and take a break from studying. He was so beyond lucky to have you, he couldn’t imagine living a day without you and your care for him. “I love you.”

His eyes were so soft when he opened them again, whispering those three little words to you as he gave you the first genuine smile you’d seen from him in a while. You could tell he was content, that he hadn’t regretted running away from his studies with you and wasn’t thinking about leaving any time soon. Silence fell around you as you finally found him at peace with himself, a balance struck between self-care and responsibilities. Of course, you’d always be there for him to help when the scales tipped over, but for now, you took tonight as a win, a step towards your future together.  

“I love you too,” you whispered back, letting the room settle as your hand dropped to his chest. You cuddled into his side, his arms wrapped around you with so much love for you. No more doubts lay between you, nothing but trust and love remained in this room that you hoped would only be a template for your future, one where you shared a bed every night and a life every morning.

~

A/N: I’ve used the room of requirement before in the past for plot convenience and I really need to find new and creative ways to give them privacy 😅 

~

@sleepysnapesnake @darkthought15 @bush-viper-cutie @fluffymadamina @dracos-mudblood @mitchiesdungeon @severuslovebot @ravenhopeflyte54 @cuddlebunny0330 @flowerdementia

[shorkbrian]

Jerk

Oh Jesus y’all I can’t handle these thirsts they’re making em flustered as heck oh no.

oh frick but really doe Bakugou is soooo mean and he’s probably the type that’s into degrading and humiliating his partner, totally has dacryphilia and can’t get off unless you’re crying big, fat, salty tears. He honestly likes you, likes having you around and enjoys your additions in class discussion. But you’re just so easy to bully, he can’t help himself. He tells you it’s your fault, if you put up more of a fight he’d back off. If you didn’t just take his insults and jabs at your character lying down, he’d leave you alone. But he never would. nasty dude.

(College au lol)

TW - noncon, NSFW, handjob, crying, Bakugou is not nice but what's new.

Sometimes he’ll corner you on campus, knows you have evening classes and waits to haul you behind the building as soon as your class ends. Talking to you in a quiet, dangerous voice as he forces you back there, his hot hands gripping your arm (far too tightly), his erection brushing against your ass with each agonizing step.

“Hey (Y/N), you little bitch, did’ya miss me? No? Too bad.”

“You better shut your whore mouth, don’t want the entire campus knowing how much of slut you are. Saying “stop” isn’t going to make me do anything but fuck you harder, stupid bitch.”

“What’re you gonna do, tell someone? Who’s gonna believe a pathetic little extra like you, hmm? I’m their quarterback baby, they can’t afford to lose me. No, you’ll fucking do whatever I say.”

Once behind the building, pressed against the wall, he’ll slap your face, once, twice. Red paints your cheeks, and you’re already crying at the sting. Bakugou just grins, enjoying every second as he squishes your face in his hand, bringing his face close to yours. So close, you can feel each hot puff of air on his every exhale. So close, you can see the beauty of his ruby red eyes, darker maroon flecking the bright iris. Pity Bakugou was so mean.

A beat passed, the two of you just looking at each other, breathing each other’s air. Then he kissed you, mashing your lips together, squeezing your jaw until you opened your mouth, let him inside like you always did.

When he pulled away, you were gasping for air, hand coming up to wipe at the tears streaming down your face. Bakugou huffed, before planting both hands on your chest and pushing. You let out a distressed cry as you were shoved backwards, loosing your balance and falling down into the dirt. You’d probably have bruises later. Who were you kidding, you were with Bakugou. Of course you’d have bruises later.

The blonde crouched down, cocking his head to the side as he watched you, eery smile on his face. You didn’t like that look. You scrambled backwards, pushing at the dirt and scuffing your hands until your back hit a wall. Bakugou stayed where he was.

“You’re so fucking stupid, only thing you’re good at is being a shitty little toy for others to push around. You realize that? That’s all you are. Nothing. Worthless little pussy on legs.”

His words stung, and you had to scrub at your eyes again, wiping away the fresh wave of tears. In doing so, you didn’t notice him stand up, stalk closer, until he was towering over your sitting form. When he “tch’ed” you jumped, looking up.

“Get the fuck up.”

You hesitated.

A hand grabbed your hair, Bakugou’s face twisting into a snarl.

“Now.”

You rose as quickly as possible, finding yourself face-to-face with your aggressor once again. Well, face-to-chest. Then you were flipped around, shoved against the wall of the building as hands began kneading at your chest.

“Mmm, shit baby, you’re always so damn soft.”

A gasp escaped you when he started pinching, grasp becoming firmer and more demanding until it hurt, the man pulling at your chest now. The hard, considerable bulge of his erection was humping against your ass slowly, as if Bakugou was savoring each little thrust of his hips.

“So easy. Bet you would bend over for anyone who asked, wouldn’t you? Slut. You’re just a little cockwhore, ain’t that right?”

He took a few steps back, pulling you with him until he could bend you at the waist, still grinding against you. But in this position, his cock was pressed against your clothed cunt, delivering delicious friction to your clit. You resisted the urge to wriggle your hips in order to chase that feeling. “Hey - “  A slap landed across your ass, and even through your jeans, you could feel it burn. “I asked you a question bitch. Answer me.”

You whimpered.

“Y-y-yes Bakugou..... I am.”

“You’re what? I didn’t quite hear that last part. ”

You could hear the sneer in his voice, wincing at the pressure as Bakugou groped at your chest.

“A-a cockwhore.”

“Fuck yeah you are, I can feel you getting wet down here.” He pulled away from your body, lending you relief for a half a second before he smacked your cunt, hard. “You’re so desperate!”

He was gleeful as he turned you around again, pushing you into the wall. He was always pushing. Pushing over your books the first time he met you, pushing your boundaries, pushing for you to come up to his dorm while his roommates are out, pushing your sanity.

You shuddered as the blond unzipped his jeans, groaning as the zipper pressed against his dick as he pulled it down.

Closing your eyes, you swallowed. You didn’t know what he was going to do next, didn’t want to see the manic look on his face as he decided which part of your body to get off on today.

You weren’t surprised when you felt his hands grab yours. He pushed himself flush against you, and you knew without looking that his cock was standing up proudly, bobbing against his stomach. If you breathed in too far, expanded your lungs, your could feel it twitch against your abdomen. You tried to take short breaths.

His hands guided yours to wrap around his dick, and the second you felt the hot flesh touch your hand, that’s when the waterworks really started. You were crying uncontrollably as Bakugou forced your hands around him, thrusting upwards shallowly, head dropping to your shoulder with a choked-off groan. He wasn’t squeezing your hands too tight, enjoying the soft, loose grip for now.

When the man grew impatient of this, he let go of one of your hands, reaching up at swipe at your face. He was trying to wet his hand with your tears.

‘C’mon (Y/N), keep crying.”

You were bawling, tears dripping off your chin, snot beginning to flow from your nose. Just like Bakugou liked it. He kept on wiping at your face, collecting the tears and snot and drool, before rubbing his hand on his cock. Then he’d make you jerk him, testing to see if it was wet enough for his comfort. The more time passed, the more tears fell.

It took a bit, but finally Bakugou was satisfied with the amount of wetness coating his cock. Grabbing your free hand again, he guided it back to his cock. When you struggled to rip our hands away, his grip just tightened, crushing your digits between his hands and his cock.

There was no preamble, no gentle beginning. Bakugou was thrusting like a mad-man, head once again on your shoulder. You could hear him moaning softly, above the slick sounds of the messy handjob. It was sickening. 

When his hips kicked up another notch, plump balls smacking into your wrists with each thrust, you knew he was close. It took just a few more frantic pumps of his hips before Bakugou was spilling over, hot cum dripping out, leaking onto your hands and dripping down to your shoes.

You tried to pull away again, letting out a desperate sob as Bakugou kept your hands anchored, his hips still moving, almost grinding himself up into your hands. His breath was stuttered, heavy and panting in your ear.

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck, oh that felt damn good.”

Finally he released your hands. 

Reigning back in your sobs, you looked at them, fingers dripping and palm wet and sticky with the mans cum. You hated him so much.

The sound of pants being zippered drew your attention, head snapping up to look at Bakugou. He was watching you intently, wiping his own hands against his jeans. A sigh of relief. Usually he tried to fuck you, or get you off. It looked like tonight he would be satisfied with just a handjob. You were going to go shower until your skin peeled off, then sleep for a day or two, classes be damned.

“Wipe it onto your slutty little cunt.”

...

“What?? B-b-bakugou you-”

“Wipe it onto your. cunt.”

He leveled you with a glare, hands crossing over his chest. You were frozen.

“Geez bitch, do I need to do it for you? Just fuckin’ wipe that shit onto your pussy, it’s not that hard.”

Trembling, you obeyed, wincing was you stuffed your hands past your jeans, past your underwear. You cringed when you felt how wet your slit was, how inflamed and puffy you felt down there from Bakugou’s teasing rutting earlier. Bakugou watched with a smirk as you pressed your hands against yourself, doing your best to wipe off his cum. 

When you finished, the man looped an arm around your waist, causing you to squeak in alarm. You recoiled from his touch, breathing hard, but he wouldn’t let go.

“What, you thought you were done? Thought a fuckin’ lame excuse for a handjob would satisfy me? God - “ He snickered loudly, beginning to pull you along, forced to walk beside him “ - You really are a stupid slut.”

You bit your lip, tears still wetting your lashes. It was uncomfortable to walk with the amount of wet in your underwear, the thought of Bakugou’s cum just sitting there making your stomach roll, tensing.

“Can’t wait ‘till we get back to my place; shitty roommates are gone for a few days, thank fuck. Can finally try edging you all night, use your body like a toy and shit like that. Fuck, I’m excited.”

You were going to throw up.