#sure snapping and snarling at him whenever he fucks up and says the wrong thing might be more satisfying in the short-term

[demon-country]

I've seen some meta posts and fanart about Blitz giving Stolas those "gud job" stickers he gave the little goat, and I just love all of them for so many reasons. It's such a good concept, especially in the context of a future where Stolas works for I.M.P., because I think it'd ultimately be very good for both Stolas in general and for his and Blitz's relationship.

Bear with me for a second as I go on a little tangent, but I remember seeing a post awhile back about this dnd group who had a kindergarten teacher for a DM, and she would give out stickers when the players did a good job in the game. After a little while she started to encourage them to do better outside of the game too, like showering/doing laundry more often or learning how to cook so they could take turns with her to provide the weekly meal for their group, and she would praise them when they did, which made them want to do it more often. She'd also do stuff like tell them, “we don't use autistic as an insult here, I'm very disappointed in you”, and they'd stop. And all of that worked, because they were so unused to having someone be proud of them or getting praised for good behavior.

Good job stickers are such a small reward, but both children and adults alike tend to cherish getting them and are more motivated to do well when they have tangible proof that their efforts are noticed and appreciated. If you consistently give people praise for what they do right while they're still learning, they usually take the inevitable course corrections that come with any learning curve a lot better. And when they get something really wrong and cross a line, a simple “I'm very disappointed in you” or "hey, that's really fucked up, don't say shit like that" hits much harder, and prompts them to both want to do better and to be more conscientious of their words/actions going forward in order to be told they did a good job again and get another sticker for their accomplishment of unlearning the unwanted behavior.

And literally I think that'd work so well on Stolas - and probably Blitz too, let's be real. He's starved for approval from people whose opinion he cares about and he's likely desperate to be told whether or not he's doing the right things, because he's been trying so hard to be a better person, but he's been having to do it basically entirely alone without much direction. Positive reinforcement would work so much better for people like him and Blitz than getting a tongue lashing every time they got something wrong. And I genuinely think Blitz and Stolas would want to use this method of positive reinforcement once they got started. They don't like hurting each other outside of a BDSM context, and honestly doling out praise for doing well is probably something they already used to do during/after scenes, so once Blitz gets them started with the stickers I think they'd probably fall back into it pretty naturally. Whether the others follow suit is up for debate though lol.

[ashwhowrites]

What about an Older! Mechanic! Eddie x Reader who's the daughter of Eddie's best friend, (Steve, Gareth? Idk) but in the beginning they hated each other, like they didn't have anything in common, but after a night when reader was kinda drunk she just found Eddie and he helped her getting to her house, and reader says something like you're cute, but you're an asshole and some days after Eddie's still thinking about it, they end up finding each other again at some shop in the town, and they decide to get something to drink and they end up finding out that maybe, they really don't hate each other, and start flirting a lot! Eventually they became a couple and Reader's dad is like I knew you liked Eddie, but he's not mad bc his daughter's an adult

I love older! eddieeeeeeee. I always picture him with a beard and it's so hard not to constantly write about that detail of him. But I never know if Eddie girls, guys, and thems also like Eddie with a beard? Well anyway, I wrote this fic and loved it, then realized I slowly slipped away from some details of the plot you included. So I truly hope this fic is okay and you still absolutely love it. I hope it's what you wanted, even though some of it was changed. I just really liked the scenes I wrote and didn't have the heart to delete it. It felt too good to me. As always, thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

Cute, but an asshole

Y/N couldn't stand when Eddie came over. She understood he was her dad's best friend, but he was rude, a single loser who slept around town and everyone was obsessed with him. Sure, he was attractive and charming, but she couldn't handle all her friends hoping he'd stop by.

Her friends loved it when Eddie was around. He'd sit and flirt with all of them, they'd flirt back and Y/N was left watching. Maybe there was a small hint of jealousy she felt, knowing her friends caught his eye but she hadn't.

Eddie did notice her, he noticed her in ways he never should have. Gareth moved away after high school, got married, and had a kid. Twenty-three years later, he came back and Eddie met Y/N. And he knew he was in big trouble when he noticed how gorgeous she was. The easiest way for him to keep a distance from her was to simply ignore her existence. He knew it worked when she began to glare and snarl whenever he was in the room. Then she started getting mean back and her smart mouth pissed off Eddie in many ways.

Then she got a boyfriend and Eddie swore he'd never been so jealous in his life.

"So, Randy what do you go to school for?" Gareth asked, slowly twirling his pasta as the table sat in silence. Y/N smiled towards Randy as encouragement, and he happily answered. The two stuck in a conversation as Eddie rolled his eyes.

Y/N noticed his rude behavior all night. Whenever Randy talked, he'd mock him, discredit him, and belittle him.

Randy kissed her goodbye at the door, her smile quick to come off when she turned to march towards Eddie. He sat at the table with a smirk and drank his beer. Gareth in the kitchen, cleaning the dishes, unaware of the heated tension in the dining room.

"What the fuck is your problem?" She snapped, her foot coming forward and kicking him in the shin.

He bit his lip as he groaned in pain. "You can't seriously like that guy." Eddie said, trying to hold back a laugh. "he's a total square."

"I do like him! And there's nothing wrong with being well-mannered." She sassed, her eyes giving Eddie a look over. A look to tell him that he was the exact opposite.

But Eddie was older, and he knew exactly how those young guys wound up. "trust me, honey. Those guys stick around to get in your pants, then he's on to the new thing. He's a rich spoiled kid, he'll get rid of you once you aren't a shiny pretty thing anymore." Eddie said, standing up as he mockingly patted her head.

She swore steam was coming out of her ears. She smacked his hand away and marched off to her room.

What did he know, he was in his late forties and single. He knew nothing about relationships.

~~~

But when Y/N walked into a bar on what was supposed to be a romantic night, she thought Eddie deserved more credit for his wisdom.

Tonight was meant to celebrate her and Randy's five-month anniversary, but he never showed. She felt like an idiot for liking the guy. Sure, she knew she didn't love him, but she liked him and he was a good distraction. In ways, he made her feel confident, beautiful, and special. Which was all taken away within hours. She called and called, no answer on his end as she sat at the restaurant.

She didn't want to believe Eddie was right, but he was. Y/N knew the second she finally had sex with Randy that she'd regret it. And here she was, not even two days later being ghosted. Instead of moping at the restaurant, she went where everyone drank away their problems.

That's when Eddie found her, completely drunk and flirting with the bartender.

Eddie was a regular at the bar, he didn't have much going on in his life and enjoyed the social drinking. But he didn't expect to see his best friend's daughter completely wasted and batting her eyelashes at the bartender. He gave in, of course, and Eddie couldn't judge him for it. If Y/N looked at him like that, he'd be a puddle at her feet.

"Alright, sweetheart. Think you've had enough." Eddie said as the bartender slid her another glass. She pouted and whined as Eddie slid the drink back over.

"Don't think so. Hand it over, Bobby." She slurred but Eddie interfered again.

"Stop! You're not like my dad or boyfriend. So fuck off." She spat, successfully getting the drink as she chugged it down.

"I'll fuck off after I get you home, safely." He said in a stern tone. Cash was slammed on the table and he was fast to grab her hand and began to pull her off the stool. When the room started to spin, she lowered her guard and let him take her home.

The car ride was dead silent, the air was uncomfortable and she wasn't sure if she needed to puke.

"I need air." She managed to get out as she gagged. Eddie was quick to pull over, helping her unbuckle her belt and then getting out of the car. She was surprised by how gentle and caring he was. The way he helped her out of the car and sat next to her on the curb.

The fresh air called her stomach and she took deep breaths. She knew the hangover tomorrow was going to be an ass to deal with.

"What are you helping me?" She asked, her eyes closed as she concentrated on not puking.

"Because I'm not a terrible person." Eddie shrugged. His eyes were on her, taking the chance to admire her up close. He never allowed himself this close to her. And even if she reeked of a run-down bar, he wanted to be closer.

"Ha, funny." She faked and laughed. "You are the biggest asshole I've ever met. Well until Randy anyway."

Eddie let the name-calling slide as he focused on the second part. "what did he do?"

"Not like you care. You'd probably get to tell me I told you so and rub it in my face that I'm some stupid young girl who doesn't know anything." She scoffed, her eyes open just to glare at him. She wanted to glare the soft look in his eyes away. Why was he looking at her like that? Did he always smell this good? Finally being face to face, inches away, she instantly knew why girls never looked away.

"I do care about you. And you're not dumb, he's dumb. You are young, but that doesn't mean you don't know anything. Talk to me." He said, his hand softly resting on her knee. She tried to ignore the way it made her heart flutter.

If she was sober, she probably wouldn't have given in. But she was drunk and the words rolled off her tongue.

"We had sex, and he disappeared on me. I mean you were right," she said as she turned her head to fully face him. The pain was easy to tell in her eyes as Eddie felt his stomach drop. "I'm not a pretty shiny thing anymore. He got what he wanted and that's all I was good for." Tears filled her eyes as she looked away. She felt embarrassed to admit to Eddie he was right.

Eddie wrapped his arm around her shoulder and brought her body into his. Her head was in his neck as she softly cried.

"I shouldn't have talked to you like that. Yeah, he's a dick and I knew that. But I'm sorry for ever making you think you are just a shiny thing for boys. You are beautiful, so smart, and incredibly sexy. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You are worth so much more than sex. Don't let that idiot make you think differently." Eddie said into her hair, his chin on the top of her head as he rubbed her arm.

"If I'm all those things, why do you hate me so much?" She asked, keeping herself hidden in his neck.

"I don't hate you."

"Yes you do," she scoffed, pushing herself away from him. But his arm still lingered on her shoulder. She wiped away her tears, "You always ignore me, you never notice me! But you notice all of my friends and spend all your time flirting with them. So there's something you don't like about me" She rolled her eyes as she finished speaking.

"You're right," he sighed, Y/N tried to hold back more tears, "there's something I don't like about you." His hand reached down to her chin and moved her head to look back at him. Her wet eyes looked into his. "I hate more than anything that you are my best friend's daughter and that it's completely inappropriate to feel the things I feel for you."

Y/N wasn't sure what to say, her eyes stuck on him as she listened to his words. She didn't want to admit anything unless her sober self did it first.

"You're much cuter when you're not being an asshole." Y/N laughed, trying to ease how tense their conversation became. But the confession made her heart swell.

"Let's get you home, kid." He laughed, standing up and taking her hand.

~~~

It's been a week since that night and Eddie found himself too nervous to see Gareth or Y/N. He confessed all his thoughts to a drunk Y/N, who probably didn't remember the night.

He felt guilty for ignoring her for his benefit. He didn't connect the ways that she could have felt hurt and it made sense why she built that wall with him. But now he wanted her to break it down, and he wanted her. He wanted to make her feel special and worthy.

But he knew he caused some wounds and the hurt lingered on her and it wasn't his place to rush her healing.

Eddie was lost in his thoughts as he stared ahead at the cereal aisle.

"Thinking hard, huh?" He heard a voice come from behind him. He jumped out of his thoughts and turned around. Y/N stood there with a cart and a smile on her face.

"Hi, stranger. How have you been?" Eddie asked, he hated how nervous he felt but she looked happy and she spoke to him, so that had to mean something good.

"I've been good. Things with Randy are done for good." She said, Eddie nodded. That means she remembered that night. "and I wanted to thank you for helping me get home that night."

"It wasn't a big deal. I'm happy to help."

"Well I need to go, dad has me on a time limit." She laughed, Eddie smiled but felt a little bummed their talk had to be cut so short. She began to walk past him, then stopped and looked over her shoulder.

"Oh Eddie," she said, he turned to look back at her. "I have inappropriate feelings for you too." She sent a wink and walked off. But Eddie was frozen in the aisle with a smile on his face and a flutter in his stomach.

~~~

A few days later, Eddie was pulling up to Gareth's house. A case of beer in his hands as he knocked on the door.

And to his delight, Y/N opened the door. She was in sweatpants and a tank top, a night in.

"I'm sorry, my dad got called into work. But you are welcome to come in!" Y/N said, stepping aside as Eddie walked in.

"Beer?" He asked, holding up the case.

~

Half the case was gone as they settled on the couch and talked all night. It turned out they had more in common than they believed. They had a similar taste in movies and music. Same opinions on food and people in town.

The more they talked, the closer their bodies got.

"Can I tell you a secret?" Y/N whispered, her face inches away from Eddie's.

"Oh absolutely, darling." Eddie laughed, moving his face closer to hers. Practically nose to nose.

"I've always thought you were so fucking hot. I mean, I still do. You have this strong jaw, aged eyes, and major sex appeal. I can't tell you how many friends I stopped talking to after you flirted with them because I was so jealous." She explained a confession she was sober enough to make.

Eddie fought off the huge blush he felt on his cheeks.

"That jealous? That's so hot." Eddie whispered, a dark look over his eyes. "Want to make them jealous?" His lips were inches from hers as he cupped her jaw.

Y/N knew what he was hinting at and god did she want it.

"Definitely," she smiled, his lips pressed against hers as he devoured her. The kiss was heavy and hot. Set her body on fire and made her see stars. Eddie moaned in the back of his throat as she climbed on his lap. Her hands ran down his toned back.

He couldn't control himself, his hands worked down her body and landed on her thighs. He gave them a quick squeeze before he moved them to her ass. She moaned as his hands squeezed her ass, her hands moved to under his shirt, her fingernails scratching his chest and feeling his chest hair.

Their moans and groans filled the empty house as their tongues battled and tasted each other.

~~~

After their heavy moment together, the flirty looks and comments couldn't stop. Whenever Eddie was over to see Gareth, Y/N couldn't help herself. Whenever her dad left the room, her lips and hands were on Eddie in seconds. That not he complained, kissing her was his favorite thing in the world.

It didn't take long for them to start going on dates and becoming a couple. Gareth knew Y/N was dating and had a boyfriend, he just wasn't sure who it was. He had a feeling it could have been Eddie, he knew his daughter and she was easy to see through. Eddie had a better poker face so that's where Gareth was stuck.

Y/N could have been dating a different guy but had a massive crush on Eddie. But it wasn't his place to force answers, he'd wait until she was ready to tell him.

~

Y/N was waiting by the door, Eddie was on his way to pick her up for their date. Gareth respected her privacy and didn't sneak to see who's been picking her up.

"Hey, kid. I got to tell you something." Gareth said, Y/N walked over to the opening of the living room where he sat on the couch.

"What's up?" She asked her eyes on the clock.

"I know you have a thing for Eddie," Y/N froze in her spot and her eyes went wide. She went to deny but her dad kept on taking it. "And I just wanted to tell you before you got your hopes up. But he's dating someone. He's never been serious with anyone before but this girl he's locked into."

Gareth watched as a tiny smile that was quick to appear was also quick to disappear from her face. But she didn't look upset, and that's how Gareth felt like he already knew.

"And you aren't upset at all," Gareth said with a smirk. "I thought you'd be crushed."

"Oh well, you know. Just a crush." She said as she tried to brush it off.

"Y/N, I know the girl is you," Gareth said, taking a sip of his beer as she stood shocked. "I have a feeling why you both tried to hide it, not very well might I add. If you wanted it a secret, maybe don't let him feel you up in the hallway. But I want you to know, you are both adults, and I just want you to be happy."

Y/N blushed embarrassed at the thought of her dad watching her boyfriend feel her up. But she felt happier than ever to know her dad accepted Eddie.

"Thank you, dad." She said, she walked over and leaned down to hug him.

"I'll still kick his ass if needed."

Y/N laughed and bid her goodbye. A bright smile on her face as she walked out and met Eddie halfway.

"What's with the big grin?" Eddie asked

"My dad knows," before she could finish her sentence, Eddie was already running to his car and starting the engine.

He may have been older, but he still reacted like a child sometimes. But hey, she wouldn't want it any other way.

Tags!

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[oosleepyfaeoo]

How could you be so blind? - Part III

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Blind!Reader

Summary: Aemond sees you as the most beautiful woman in the world but you can't see that. (sorry I suck at summaries.)

Warning: a lil angst, the reader is a female, eventual smut

Words: 1,721

A/n: English is not my first language.

Part 2 / Part 4

Aemond kicks the door open as he enters his penthouse, with Alys hot on his heels. A smug smile on her face. 

“What in the actual fuck was that, Alys?” He growls, his lilac eye burning with hatred.  

Alys throws her purse to the massive sofa and walks towards him, her hips swaying sensually. “what do you mean sweetheart?” She looks up to meet his gaze, a fake innocent smile on her lips. 

“You know very well what I mean.” He spits out. “Who invited you to the party? Cause I'm sure as hell it wasn’t me.” 

Aemond was LIVID. After your last encounter at your place, he texted Alys, breaking their... deal. He wanted to say more than that, to accuse her of declaring that the book you gave him was from her. But he didn’t have the energy so he wrote a simple text. 

Don’t appear in front of me ever again. 

Aemond consumed a lot of his time thinking about his feelings towards you. Wishing to stop being a coward and confess his feelings for you but it wasn’t that easy. The fear of being rejected and ruining your friendship made him almost explode from anxiety. Spending most of his nights awake, his mind plagued by the thoughts of you.  

When you refused his invitation, he accepted his fate by going alone to the party. Not wanting anyone else but you. But unfortunately, Alys had other things in mind. Appearing by his side when he walks into the red carpet, interweaving her slim arm around his.  

That made the paparazzi go wild. The flash of the cameras shooting so fast almost made his only good eye go blind. Journalists shouted question after question, asking if they were together and if yes, how long.  

Before Alys could reply something stupid, Aemond pull her away into the party. Leaving behind the crazy mess of confused journalists. 

That night passed so fucking slow. Aemond couldn’t stand Alys anymore, hating how she made them look like they were married or something whenever someone approach them. 

Helaena gave him a confusing look, surprised to see Alys with him and not you.  

“I may or may not ask for a lil favor from your kind older brother.” She said with a wicked smile. 

Aemond knew something was wrong with Aegon cause since he arrived at the party, Aegon have been hiding away from him as if Aemond was the plague in person. That bastard put her name on the guest list. 

“Alys... This is getting out of hand.” He sighs, resting his head on his hand. Feeling a headache start to form. “You knew that I didn’t want you at the party. You know that things between us are over!”  

Alys frowns, her eyes shining with rage. “Is this because of that handicapped girl?” she snaps. “Y/n, is it? Such a boring name but at least it suits her.”  

Aemond could feel his blood boiling at her words, grabbing roughly her arm. Forcing her to meet his hateful gaze. “Say that again or Gods help me, direct a simple word towards Y/n and I will end your modeling career in one day. Do you hear me?” He growls lowly, noticing a hit of fear in her eyes but it was gone quickly. 

She pulls away and grabs her purse. “You will regret this, Aemond.” She snarls, walking towards the door. “Mark my words.” And with that, she was gone. 

Aemond groans and falls down to his sofa, sighing as his tense body melts into the soft cushions. He grabs his phone and quickly texts Aegon. 

Aemond sighs tiredly, losing all hope for his brother. 

Finally, it’s over. Now he can focus on you.  

//// 

You hum happily as you pack up your books, being done with the classes. Helaena stood by your side, eyeing you skeptically.  

“Someone is in a good mood.” She says while walking out of the class with you. “Did something good happen during the weekend?”  

A shy smile appears on your lips as you recall that today was Monday. The day of your first training with your new guide dog. You are so excited to start training that you almost couldn’t sleep the other night. But there was another thing you were also excited about. To spend more time with Cregan.  

Cregan Stark was the definition of a true gentleman.  

During your appointment with him, he was kind and patient. Asking some questions of how was your way of living, your schedules, whether your university accepts guide dogs in their establishment, etc.  

His question was to help him find the perfect dog for you, with the right personality and temperament. 

He also explained how this was a family business, taking great pride to train and give lovely homes to those great beasts so they could help people in need. The way he excitedly explains everything about his work to you, shows you how he loves his job. 

After all the talk, he took you to see his dogs. The sound of all of them whining and barking happily as they see their owner, wanting pets and treats from him, made you smile brightly. 

Cregan told you to take a seat while he went to get the dog that he had in mind. After a few seconds, the sound of heavy paws stomping the ground made your head perk up.  

“Easy boy! We don’t want to scare your new owner, don’t we?” Cregan says with a laugh as the massive dog tries to jump onto your lap. “This is Knight. He’s one year old, perfect to begin his training. He’s already trained with the basics but his guide dog training will begin with you.” 

“Knight... What a cute name.” You pet his massive head, feeling his soft fur through your slim fingers.” Will you be my Knight in shining armor?” a giggle exploded from as Knight bumps his head against your chest. “Can you describe him for me?”  

“Oh.. Of course!” You hear him taking a seat beside you and you felt his fingers brush through yours as he pets Knight’s head. “He is 34 inches in height, he weights now 60 pounds but when he’s fully grown, he will be 120 pounds. Part of his weight is fur, so don’t worry.” 

Your eyes widened, feeling a little nervous thinking of how he will fit in your small apartment. Well, you two will fit perfectly but you couldn’t have more people over, or else no one will move around the apartment freely. 

“His coat is pitch black with a small spot of white on his chest.” A giggle fell from your lips as Knight start licking your hands. “He has heterochromia, his right eye is light blue and his left eye is dark brown.”  

Your smile fell a little as the image of Aemond came to your mind. Of course, Aemond doesn’t have heterochromia but Knight’s eyes made you remind of him.  

After meeting Knight and getting used to him, Cregan said that you will begin the training that week. 2 hours for three days a week, after your classes, and you will meet him at the park with Knight.  

“Get everything ready for Knight this Monday cause after the first class, you will take him with you to your home.” He says as he escorts you to the door. “You will bring him with you everywhere you go, so he can get to know the space you frequent.”  

You nod and said your goodbyes. 

~~~~ 

“Well let’s say I have a date with a big haired boy,” you say with a giggle, referring to Knight but Helaena didn’t know that which made her look at you with a confused look on her face.  

“What?” she asks, watching you walk into the bus. 

You wink in her direction, well at least you think you did. “You will see tomorrow.” And with that, you are gone. 

Helaena quickly grabs her phone and texts Aemond. 

//// 

“Good! Now you can give him a treat.” Cregan says, watching you order Knight to sit so you can give him the treat. “You both seem to work very well together.”  

You gave him a cheerful smile. “Knight is a great work partner! I couldn’t have wished for a better dog than him.”  

Cregan hums and start packing up his stuff, ending his class early cause of the dark clouds forming above them in the sky. “I think it might rain. Let's end here” He says as he starts feeling small drops falling on him.  

You nod and start guiding Knight toward the path to your house. “Alright! Thank you for the class, Cregan! See you tomorrow.” You waved at him and start walking.  

“Huh... Wait! I'll accompany you to your apartment.” He jogs to you just as you walk out of the park. “Since it’s Knight's first trip to your house, I wanna see if he pays attention to the path.”  

“Oh?... Sure!” You say as you both start walking to your house, praising Knight during the trip as he pays attention to every corner and smell. 

//// 

Aemond was sitting in his car in front of your building when he sees you with a big, handsome guy beside you, laughing at some joke he told. Aemond’s blood boils with jealousy. Who does this guy think he is?  

His eye widen when he sees a massive black dog walking beside you with a harness saying “Guide Dog! Please Do not touch him!”  

“So this guy is the guide dog trainer Y/n talked about...” He hums, his large hands gripping the steering wheel tightly as anger and jealousy ran through his blood.  

He watches both of you walking in your building, noticing the guy’s hand dangerously resting on your lower back.  

Turning his car on, he drives back to his place. He needs advice on this matter. He never had a serious relationship before or fight for someone since women mostly throw themself at him.  

The first person that comes to his mind is his sweet sister, Helaena. She must know how he can conquer you back. She knows what to do.  

Relax, Aemond. It will be fine... I hope... 

.

.

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There are some tags that don't work

[002yb]

Gimmie a jason who is utterly unaware of his own sex appeal and a dick who is absolutely committed to being the first one to rake his nails down and fuck between jason's thighs.

It's never a stretch for Dick to figure out why Jason shuts down on them. For as emotional as everyone accuses Jason of being, it's never without reason. It's why when Jason suddenly starts to pull away from Dick in the middle of a briefing, he knows he fucked up somehow. A feat, given this exchange has been nothing but professional.

Even still, it happens and Dick scrambles to figure out why.

He carries on with the conversation, but not without running the entire thing through in his head - start to finish. Regardless of what angle he looks at it though, Dick can't fathom what there is for Jason to be upset with.

They have a case. They need bait. Someone beautiful, someone alluring, someone capable: Jason.

Again and again Dick tries to pinpoint what it is that set Jason off, but there's nothing. Dick has done nothing but unwittingly sing Jason's praises this entire exchange, but the more he talks the deeper Jason's scowl becomes until, abruptly, he cuts Dick off with a sneer.

"Hah, hah." Jason scoffs, arms drawn tight around himself. With a snarl, he snaps, "Stop fucking around, dick. We need someone with a modicum of sex appeal for this."

Dick furrows his brows, head tilting slightly in his confusion as he meets Jason with an inquiringly drawled, "Yeah?"

It's the wrong response, given how Jason flushes red, angry and embarrassed and oh. Dick realizes it a moment too late - Jason thinks Dick is making fun of him. Just the notion baffles Dick enough that he's flabbergasted, helpless but to watch in dumbfounded horror because what!?

"Wait! Wait, wait--" Dick sputters, chasing after where Jason storms away. It doesn't take long to catch up to him, to catch Jason's wrist and hold him back and pull away when Jason turns on him - puffed up and spitting vitriol because 'you're not fucking funny, dickwing; go to hell,' but Dick is unperturbed, hands raised in placation while talking over Jason because, "Just wait, okay?"

Jason is steaming. Dick might be, too.

"The hell would I be making fun of?" Dick asks, just to make sure.

Jason scowls at him again, "I'm not bait. I'm not a hook. You have eyes--"

"Yeah, and I'm looking." Dick gripes back, shoving Jason first in the shoulder, then prodding at his pecs, waist, hips, all while badgering, "Sex appeal, sex appeal, sex appeal--"

"Oh my god, shut the fuck up," Jason complains, smacking at Dick's hand. Dick slaps Jason's thigh in retaliation and persists with his barrage of, 'sex appeal,' until Jason relents with a defeated groan.

Unconvinced as Jason still looks, Dick still offers him a small smile while pinching Jason's cheek between thumb and forefinger, laughing under his breath at how Jason scowls and saying anyway, "Sex appeal."

"Cut it out." Jason grumbles, flush still high on his cheeks.

Dick's hand drops from Jason's cheek to the curve of Jason's neck, the heel of his palm rested over Jason's fluttering pulse. There's an appeal in that, too. In the blood that rushes to Jason's cheeks and burns across the tips of his ears, in the ways he's vulnerable to contrast everything else Jason has built himself up to be.

"I wasn't joking." Dick tells him, earnest.

And Jason's pulse skips beneath his hand, his breath catching. Dick is always attentive with Jason, so of course he notices when Jason shuts down on him; he catches on just as quick whenever Jason opens up, too - whenever Jason makes a leap and needs to be caught.

Dick thumbs over the cut of Jason's jaw, the barest of smiles pulling at his lips. Tentative and small so as to not scare Jason off; timid and enthralled because Dick meant it: Jason is beautiful, alluring, captivating and breathtaking. Dick's most genuine smiles have only ever been biting and he's helpless to how he bares his teeth or how his heart skips a beat in time with Jason's own.

[captain-mj]

In the past I feel like you’ve said ‘I was just waiting for an ask so I could post this’ so this is an ask to give you that excuse completely. I request that thing you just really want to write. Use it at anytime you want. We love your writing.

Please let me read that thing you want to write !!!

*non normal noises*

i will absolutely take you up on this!! Ghost and Soap sparring angst edition, rather short, kinda clunky, very self indulgent for me.

Soap had never seen Ghost spar. Ever. He didn't get why. It felt like everyone should spar, just to keep their skills sharp. Maybe no one asked him? Whenever Ghost was in the gym, which was shockingly rare from what Soap saw but maybe he just went at different times, people avoided him. It would make sense if no one wanted to spar with him.

Maybe that's why it was so strange that today, someone asked Ghost to spar and he said yes. It made Soap wonder if he'd always say yes, just no one asked.

Ghost wrapped his hands and pulled off his jacket. Soap's attention was immediately caught on the wrist that was exposed at this move. In his head, he could hear Gaz calling him a Victorian woman seeing ankle.

Ghost had the other person fight him and it was clear he wasn't trying very hard. He was almost playful about the moves that would send the other guy sprawling to the ground. "Come on, private. You can hit me harder than that." He assured before yanking them back up.

A few other people stopped what they were doing to watch, several grimacing when Ghost sent the private tumbling. "Ah come on Simon, you're going easy on him!"

Soap watched Ghost... flinch wasn't the right word. His shoulder jerked up slightly, as if to cover his ear and block out what the guy was saying. The private managed to get a hit on him and Ghost cuffed his head to force him back.

"Get him, Carter!" Someone yelled and Ghost's shoulder jerked up again. He started to dodge the private's attacks instead of fighting back.

Soap sensed something was wrong and started to look for a way to de-escalate. He wasn't sure what was setting Ghost off, but he didn't want anyone to get hurt.

The private lunged at him in a rather unprofessional move. It managed to get Ghost on his back but it also flicked the switch.

Ghost grabbed the private and really hit him. No sense of hesitation or carefulness. The private's head snapped back and he quickly started to back up.

"There ya go Riley!" Someone jeered and Soap thought for a moment he was mocking him.

Ghost grabbed the private and started to hit him harder. For a moment, the world felt frozen as everyone who watched went from entertained to horrified.

The private tried to wrap his legs around Ghost to flip him but the man was a brick wall.

Someone started to scream for Price and people were moving quickly but Soap didn't bother with that. He just ran at Ghost, slamming into him to get him off of the private.

Ghost was feral, actually snapping his teeth at Soap despite the mask between them. "Fuck off. Fuck off. Fuck off."

Soap tried to pin Ghost and quickly found himself on his stomach, arm bent behind his back. He saw the private quickly scrambling to get away, blood dripping from his nose with a limp.

Soap struggled with Ghost, trying to get out of the pin he was in. His arm was slowly being twisted further and further up his back and he thought for a brief moment that his arm would pop out of his socket.

Price yanked Ghost off of him. "Simon, you're okay. You're alright. I promise."

Ghost kicked at the ground aggressively but didn't hit Price. He huffed and snarled. "Fuck you."

"You're fine. I promise. You're alright." Price held Ghost tight until his breathing evened out. "So. I think sparring is still of the table for you."

"Just wanted to try."

"What happened?"

"I was back in the ring." Ghost grunted, trying to pull away from Price who simply yanked him back down.

Soap tested his arm. It was his bad arm and he couldn't quite feel his fingers. "Ring?"

"Fighting ring." Ghost explained. "Couldn't let them win."

Soap shivered, wondering when the fuck he would've been in a fighting ring

[sinzkiller]

Mayuri Kurotsuchi x reader

"Jealousy"

EXPLICIT CONTENT. I have so many ideas but it's difficult for me to write it all since I'm kinda weak in English :(

Kurotsuchi Mayuri, a captain of the 12th Division, a mad and a cruel scientist, yes he is and everyone knows that. No one dare to anger him, not to mention approaching him. He is the last person that you want to mess with, the one who will fuck up you up and turn your life into a nightmare. However, the creepy captain sure has a soft side that no one knows, because he's good at hiding it.

"Akon, can you please pass me that paperwork over there" you said, fingers still typing on the keyboard, eyes completely locked on the computer, reading all the collected data that had been displayed on the screen. With the paper on his hand, Akon bowed down like the gentleman he is, handing it over to you. "Anything for you, my princess" he said in a flirty way, with a huge grin on his handsome face. He took your hand and place a quick kiss on it, as a joke, of course. "Ewwwwwww" Rin who had been watching the two of you is disgusted and couldn't focus on what he's doing.

Standing up from your chair, your fingers pinched the lower part of your lab coat, pulling it slightly upwards and bowing like a princess "Thank you...my prince...pfft" you said, almost laugh at him.

"You think that's funny? Huh, y/n?" Your captain snapped from behind, causing you and Akon went silent and your face turning pale. Slowly, you turned around to see his painted face and greet him with a soft smile which you instantly regretted doing it. Mayuri stares at you for a moment, before he rolls his eyes in annoyance. "Akon, why do you need to be this close to her? You just need to pass the paper, isn't that an easy task to do?"

Akon and Rin were your best friends for a long time, the only two of them besides Nemu you were comfortable with. Your relationship with everyone there is actually pretty good, except with the captain. Captain Kurotsuchi for sure love to put you in hell sometimes, he dislike it when you're getting close with your other colleagues in 12th Division especially when some of them being flirty with you. The only way for him to solves this problem is by dragging you to his private lab and working with him there for entire day. It's kinda confusing because you think that he might like you since he always seems so jealous whenever you're with someone else and yet he seems not, who's know?

"Y/n, you are distracting Akon, so please stop talking to him" says Mayuri. "Captain, it's me who started the conversation first, not Y/n" Akon tries to back you up but Mayuri won't listen to him, raising his slender index finger and pointed at his computer "continue your work, Akon, and I won't repeat myself." he snarled. Akon went silent, he's only nodded and walk away from you two, hoping that the captain doesn't cause you any harm.

You felt something grab your left arm with a strong grip, it was his hand. "Follow me, woman" he said in a harsh tone, you literally pray to all the Gods that you know because he sounds like he's going to kill you. As you two entered his private lab, you saw Nemu standing in front of Mayuri's huge monitor, looking at the two of you in confusion. "Get out of here Nemu, I need to settle this thing between me and Y/n" He said as he pushed Nemu out of his lab.

"Understandable, Mayuri-sama" Nemu answered as she closed the automatic door behind the two of you and walked away from that place.

"What did I do to you?? I don't remember doing anything wrong, in fact I completed all my work and handed it to you on time, I wasn't even rude to you was I?" Pulling your arm from his grip, you backed away from him. He can kill you whenever he wants, he can unleash the power of his Zanpakuto and drown you with poison there. But he didn't, he only watched you in silence. You stared at Mayuri, there was something about him that you just noticed at the moment, it was something unusual about the way he look at you. How long has he been looking at you with such a soft gaze?

Without saying any words, he approached you and pushed you against the wall, caging you between his arm as he roughly kisses you on the lips. "I don't like seeing you with others, you are mine, only mine" he said, pulling away and now kissing your exposed neck. "I don't shares, you know." He pushed your hips down so that your pussy on his left knee which was already between your thighs, forcing you to grinding on it. "You know what to do." He commanded. Mayuri wants to take off your clothes so bad, but something in his mind stopped him.

"No..let she crave for more..craving for my touch.."

"Ca.. captain" you moaned, staring into his eyes as you do what he says. "Id prefer you call me by my name when we do this, so that everyone knows who you belong to"

"M...Mayuri...." You moaned his name, looking at his half opened eyes as you grind your pussy on his knee. You don't even know what you're doing, you were drowning in your own pleasure and lust. The excitement he felt lead him into gripping your neck roughly with his hand.

"That's it...just like that mhmmmm" with that he inserts two of his fingers inside your mouth, shoving them deep and toying with your tongue using his fingers. Thank God it's not the one with long nail......

"If only you didn't aroused my jealousy then you don't have to experience this"

Your hips move back and forth faster than before, almost reaching your own climax. Before that could even happen, he pull his knee from between your thighs and had you fall into a kneeling position in front of him. He lifted up your chin and made you look at him in the eyes. "No, I won't let you cum, stupid"

Both hands gripping your hair as he pressed your face against his clothed dick that still hard, moving up and down slowly as he let out a loud moan. "Mmm.. feels so..good ah.." He pressed himself to your face harder than before that you almost couldn't breathe, the rough texture of his pants brushed against your soft skin.

"Mmm...Ma..mm..yuri pweash sstop..mm"

"Shut up you slut" He hissed, slapping your cheeks and continue to grinding on your face. You were completely helpless under him, unable to resist and letting him to do whatever he wants on your body. Damn, it's turning him on so much, thinking about this with you underneath while he's looking at your innocent eyes... It's was your fault after all, because of you he's in a great mess like this, because of you he finds himself stroking his own dick almost every night and came into his hand, instead of inside your pussy.

"Hah..... Ah.." finally, he came. His grip on your hair is tighten and he stop moving, your face still pressed on his clothed dick with your mouth slightly open.

"Ah....mmmmm... I.. hope you're satisfied" You said in a low voice, almost crying and you didn't dare to make eye contact with him.

He looked at you, hands caressing your cheeks softly as he gave you a worried look.

"Am I being too harsh on you, sweetheart?"

__________________________________

You: Heheheh

Mayuri: What?

You: I.... I knew it

Mayuri: Knew what?

You: YOU ACTUALLY LOVE ME!!

Mayuri: wtf??? *Blushing *

You: Oh come on~

Mayuri: Shut up or I'll dissect you.

;)

I love Mayuri Kurotsuchi and I'm not ashamed of it.

_____

[incaensio]

after so many hours, katniss is glad for her ability to listen, yet not pick up on anything. she has no name for the dissociative state in which she slips on at times, but it sure comes at hand now, when it seems she's been hearing the same conversation based on pointless compliments about things she's not particularly proud of. she has to snap out of it when another voice, with a different accent, joins in. it is just on time that johanna speaks, because the man wants katniss to shake his hand — she doesn't have the time for it though, thankfully, because johanna mason has swept him in her own speech, even though the subject is the same: katniss everdeen. katniss herself has no way of tuning this out, though. she's wanted to speak with the sole female victor from district seven several times before; who has not heard of her? she had been remarkable during her games, and outside of them even more. it seemed almost everyone had something to say of johanna, and, often, not good things and that alone, coming from capitolites, made johanna worth meeting. maybe there was something there — not to be the only one who's rough around the edges.

the tales are true, that much katniss gathers, as johanna continues talking; she's making fun of them, openly, crudely. katniss' eyes widen, and she does not know how she manages to keep a smile off her face. maybe it's because when johanna speaks of the fireballs, katniss can still smell the fire, the burnt clothing, the burnt hair, the burnt flesh. that does the trick. "does he?" she is skeptical, because katniss herself is torn: half - amused, half - terrified, she glances up at the other victor, but she is almost certain johanna won't mind — if this is just another common exchange for her, it's likely she's used to this. "guilt - tripping." she repeats, still in a daze. they certainly had their part of it, guilt. they all had fun while she burned, while rue was murdered, while peeta almost died so many times over. "usually i think i'm suited to no kind of crowd." she manages to slip out, moments before regretting it. not because she shouldn't commiserate, but because of what comes next.

johanna's glance at peeta makes katniss stiffen, and what was malleable and willing suddenly becomes hardened, and johanna is no better than marcellus, or whatever the man's name had been. only that, unlike with the capitolite, katniss makes little effort to keep up the friendly act, and her jaw tightens, her eyes squint. she's not wrong. she's not lying. fuck's sake, she's speaking the truth, the plain truth, but she says it so easily, so openly. how could she do that? is she so stupid? or is she the heartless one, and taunting capitol is just as fun for her as it is taunting someone she should relate to, for all of their similarities? "don't you have a haymitch of your own? mine always tells me to shut the fuck up whenever i'm sputtering bullshit." katniss thought she was past this. sure, not everyone would buy into it, but the cameras sell the story so sweetly, she has tried so hard. “just because you played a part during your own, doesn’t mean everyone else does it too.” now who’s spewing bullshit? even through her almost snarl, katniss can tell she most likely sounds fucking flat.

For Katniss Everdeen — @incaensio

“Katniss Everdeen,” a man with a rich yet plummy accent said. “Or shall I say, the Girl on Fire?”

His veneers flashed a porcelain white as he laughed heartily at his own idea of a quip.

“Marcellus Fontaine,” he introduced himself, hand outstretched.

“The Girl on Fire,” Johanna Mason mused to herself, loud enough for Marcellus to hear. “Very fitting title.”

“Yes, indeed,” he agreed, turning toward the voice, beaming. His demeanor stiffened after realizing who had spoken. In a moment, a wall had been built up between them, uncertainty taking precedence. Johanna’s habit of being unpredictable and candid left him wary of what she might say or do next. Instead, he led the conversation back to Katniss. “Your stylist has outdone himself.”

“Oh no.” Johanna shook her head. “I’m talking about when she almost burned to death in that arena. Remember the fireballs hurtling toward her? Quite a spectacle!”

While Johanna’s eyebrows raised in feigned amusement, Marcellus’ own raised in disbelief. Her sardonic remark was met with a beat of silence. It was finally broken when he cleared his throat.

“You’ll have to excuse me, my wife—” he said timidly, waving his hand in an aimless direction.

“Yeah, why don’t you go find her,” she urged rather than asked. She patted his shoulder, giving him a gentle shove away from the two of them, allowing her to his place next to Katniss. Johanna waited until he walked out of earshot before turning back toward her.

“Don’t worry. He loves it,” she admitted. Her eyes contained a gleam of humor, yet there was a morsel of truth to her words. Not all Capitolites lived in blissful ignorance of the brutality they inflicted on district citizens. Some salved the guilt by making charitable contributions to the tributes like Marcellus had for the past few years, and Johanna felt no shame in reminding anyone who shared his remorse of their idle role in the deaths of children. Others enjoyed being brought down a few pegs after having spent most of their lives in powerful positions; however, Johanna avoided playing into the likes of them and their fantasies as they usually sought sexual gratification. But most were too far gone, brainwashed into acceptance and compliance.

Although Johanna had earned a reputation of being volatile, she knew better than to cost her tributes their much-needed sponsorships. She was selective with her outbursts these days, learning the hard way not to bite the hand that fed her.

“Piece of advice, guilt-tripping works,” she said, raising a champagne flute to tinted lips. “I think you’re more suited appealing to that crowd. At least then you’re not pretending.”

She tilted her head toward Peeta, the day to Katniss’ night. The young pair’s romantic relationship being a façade was merely an assumption, but Johanna found it difficult believing there was enough privacy or emotional availability in this stringent environment for truly falling in love.

“It’s smart, what you’re doing,” she said, her words hushed. “I wish I’d have thought of it. You’d have to be a real heartless bastard to get in the way of young love.”

A laugh that sounded more like a scoff escaped her. There was a tinge of bitterness brought on by the cruel irony in being ruled under a tyrannical government. Love was a luxury in Panem.

“Who came up with that bright idea? Don’t tell me it was Haymitch.”

[mydearlybeloathed]

𝐆𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐑

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: There always seemed to be something holding you and Percy apart, whether it was your maniac older brother or rumors of a spy in Camp Halfblood.

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Percy Jackson x Castellan reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1110

Tears streamed down both of your faces. You’d tried to hold yours in, but when you saw Percy's eyes begin to shine with his own unshed tears, you were a goner.

That’s how it always was with him. Ever since you’d met at age twelve, you knew you were a goner the moment you met his sea green eyes. That summer was perfect. Nothing was wrong. You and Percy were hitting it off fine, well on your way to being best friends. Your brother, Luke, wasn’t a homicidal maniac who wanted to go to war with the gods. Life was good.

That’s when everything got fucked up.

Before Luke’s betrayal, you didn’t even know the meaning of the word lonely. Now it was the only word in your vocabulary. No one trusted you and you couldn’t go a day without someone accusing you of being some sort of spy.

Sometimes… Sometimes you wished you had gone with Luke when he asked you to join him. But no, you decided to stay at camp, thinking that you had a home there. Screw that.

… Well, not everyone hated you. Percy still talked to you. It annoyed the hell out of Annabeth, his other best friend who you’d been rather close to before everything fell apart. Now, whenever she looked at you, she was just reminded of how Luke betrayed her. Did no one care that you were hurting too? He was your brother after all! Your big brother who swore he’d never leave you, left.

As always, the only one who was there to wipe away your tears was Percy. It didn’t take long for you to fall helplessly in love with him, and it didn’t take much longer for him to follow.

For some time, things were okay. After the quest into the Sea of Monsters, Annabeth almost trusted you. The kids at camp were semi–starting to realize that you wanted nothing to do with Luke. And after you and Percy had rescued Artemis and Annabeth from Atlas, things were even good. You had even kissed Percy at the celebration of the Winter Solstice after the whole matter was done with. He’d kissed you back with just as much passion as you did. Things were good.

And then word spread that there was a spy in camp.

Of course, blame was set on you with unsurprising speed.

You stood at the table with Percy at your side, listening as each of the cabin counselors gave reasons as to why you were the guilty one. You didn’t bother with trying to defend yourself. They wouldn't listen if you tried.

“I say we banish her,” said Clarisse La Rue savagely.

Percy took a step closer to you, taking your hand in his. “It’s not her.”

Clarisse rolled her eyes. “She’s got you wrapped her little spying finger, Jackson. Surely you see that.”

“No,” Percy nearly snarled back. “I don’t see that. Because it's not true.”

“It makes sense though,” said Katie Gardner hesitantly. She avoided meeting your cold gaze. “She’s his sister, Percy.”

“She’s standing right here,” you croaked. Your throat burned. All you wanted to do was get out of there before you burst into tears. “It wasn’t me. I would never betray the camp. I’d never betray you guys.”

As expected, no one believed you.

After the meeting was adjourned, it was decided that they didn’t have enough evidence to condemn you. Percy walked with you near the beach, both of you being painfully silent.

Suddenly, you stopped. Percy stood beside you, examining your face carefully before following your gaze out to the ocean. The sun was beginning to set, the colors of pink and blue and orange mixing together in a beautiful mural in the sky.

Finally, you spit out the thoughts churning through your mind. “I’m leaving, Percy.”

His head snapped in your direction, his eyes wide and disbelieving. “... What?”

“I’m leaving. Tomorrow.” You just decided. This was how it had to be. “It's for the best.”

Percy took both of your hands in his and pulled you to face him. You kept your eyes on the ground, knowing that if you looked into his eyes you’d be a goner yet again. “No. You don’t have to. I’ll convince them you're innocent. You don’t have to go.”

“But Percy,” you said, your voice cracking under the pressure of your held in sobs. “They’ll never trust me. You’re the only one who wants me here.”

“Shouldn’t that be enough?”

“It should. But it's not.” You squeezed his hands, leaning forward to rest your forehead against his. “It's not forever. I’ll… I’ll be back. When this is all over. I know you’ll win this war, Percy. With or without me.”

“No.”

“I’ll only hold you back.”

“Then hold me back. Anything but leave. Please.”

The tears rolled down your cheeks, mixing with the ones falling down his in the close proximity. “It’ll be easier if I leave.”

“If easier means I fight this without you, then I don’t want it,” Percy said with so much certainty and anguish that it forced your eyes open.

Some minutes passed where all you did was stare into his eyes. You really could get lost in them. You’re lucky you managed to hold onto your resolve at all. “I’m so sorry.”

Percy sniffled miserably and stepped away from you. He rubbed at his eyes, turning away, facing the ocean. You did the same, not really knowing what to say anymore. You supposed all you could say was, “I love you, Percy. Please know that I love you more than anything else in this world.”

“Then why’re you leaving?”

“Because I love you. You’ll understand someday.” You hoped he understood someday.

His hand slid into yours. The moon was peeking up over the horizon, shimmering its reflection onto the ocean. He squeezed your hand tightly. “I’ll see you on the other side then?”

Not a goodbye. A see you later.

A tiny, broken grin forced its way onto your face. You squeezed his hand back. “See you on the other side, Perce.”

And you did. Well, it was a little before the other side actually. In the middle of the Battle of Manhattan, you’d come in blazing with your sword of celestial bronze. After you sent a monster to Tartarus right before it tried to attack Percy, he whirled around to face you with the wildest grin on his face and a shimmer in his ocean eyes.

You knew then, as you smiled and ran to hug him in the center of a raging war, that you’d always be a goner for Percy Jackson.

[blueicequeen19]

Innocent Pt. 15

"What are you going to do?" I asked after we'd cleaned up and dressed. Rafe was pacing again.

"I don't know what I'm going to do." Rafe drags his hands down his face. "Them being back could ruin my family."

"Then take care of them."

"My dad is going to choose Sarah. He'll choose Sarah and I'll go to prison."

"Then leave. Run before they can do anything."

"I can't abandon my dad. Not after everything. He needs me."

"Does he need you more than he needs Sarah?"

"I don't want to talk about this anymore. I know my dad won't choose Sarah, not without getting himself in trouble." Rafe said, trying to convince himself more than me.

"Well, if we're done with whatever this was I'm going home." Home had no meaning to me but I did miss my lumpy mattress and the quiet. I get to my feet and Rafe looks at me like I've struck him.

"I don't want you to leave." Rafe says so matter of fact, like I should've already known that.

"Rafe, I don't even know what this is supposed to be. Am I your unpaid therapist that you fuck? I'll keep your secrets but you're not going to lock me away to use whenever you want."

"Please," he says dryly, "you like fucking me just as much as I like fucking you."

"Well if I'd known you only wanted me for my virginity then I wouldn't have slept with you." I snap. He laughs but it doesn't meet his eyes.

"I'm Rafe Cameron, you should be grateful to lose your virginity to someone like me."

"A killer?" It slips past my lips before I can stop it but it's too late to take it back. I stand my ground as his angry eyes search mine.

"You didn't mind my killer tendencies when it came to your father." Rafe stopped directly in front of me, his breath hitting me in the face. My stomach rolled at his words but he wasn't wrong. Part of me didn't even care that he was a killer.

"I'm out of here." I stomped off, half expecting him to stop me but he didn't.

I got home in record time and collapsed on my bed, welcoming a peaceful nights sleep for once. My sleep is restless and terrorized by Rafe and his body. I get up two hours before my alarm and take my time getting ready. My mom shoots me another update and I don't respond. It still wasn't good and I wasn't ready to face it yet.

I eat two bowls of cereal and a cup of coffee before Leah shows up.

"You look like crap." Leah chuckles as I plop down into the passenger seat.

"Thanks." I roll my lip at her but she knows I love her for her blunt honesty. I'm sure the bags under my eyes looked amazing.

School drags by so slowly. With everything going on outside of here, I can't believe I'm working on homework. Like there weren't more pressing things. I snap my notebook shut when Leah plops down beside me, breathing like she ran here.

"They arrested John B!" She pants and my stomach flops. Im going to be sick. It's only a matter of time before they bring Sarah in for questioning. It takes me a moment to realize that Leah is pouring out all the details and I didn't hear a damn thing.

"That's crazy!"

"Right? I never pegged him to be a killer, let alone a cop killer." I gulp at her words.

"Did they say why he shot the sheriff?" I ask although I don't care for the answer.

"No, but that's a good question." Leah shrugs and moves on to her next topic while I quickly shoot Rafe a text.

"Did you hear?" I ask. The three bubbles indicating he's typing a response immediately appear.

"Yes. Come to the loft after school." Rafe says back. I want to roll my eyes but I know I can't tell him no.

I show up at the loft after Leah drops me off at my car. I race up the stairs when I come to a stop, almost running into Kelc on his way down. He charges towards me and I shrink back as he comes to a stop on the same step as me, disgust painted across his face.

"I'm sure a quick fuck is just what he needs." Kelc snarls. I quickly shake off the shock of his hostility and lean towards him.

"There won't be anything quick about it." I snap, looking him up and down before going up the rest of the steps. I push the door open and find Rafe sitting on the bed with his head in his hands. He looks up when I approach. His eyes are bloodshot and numerous empty bottles sit on the nightstand.

"It's only a matter of time before they come for me, Em." Rafe says, his voice thick with emotion. Rafe pulls me between his legs and wraps his arms around my waist.

"You need to leave." I plead, my arms tight around him.

"It's their word against yours." I add and Rafe shakes his head.

"I'm pretty sure they have the gun I used." Rafe pulls away and downs almost half a bottle of vodka from the nightstand.

"Then what are you waiting for? Please leave Rafe!" I dropped to my knees in between his legs and wrapped my arms around his waist. His breath hitting my forehead as I fought to keep my tears at bay. This couldn't be happening. His hands caressed my back as he held on to each other.

"I don't want anything to happen to you." I peered up at him and he brushed my hair from my face.

"My father won't let me go to jail. He'll figure this out." Rafe sounded so sure as he cupped my face and brought my mouth to his. His tongue immediately finds it way in my mouth and I gasp.

"Rafe." I murmur against his lips but he fists my hair, pulling me into his lap.

"I'm glad I met you, Em." Rafe nips my lips and I shudder as his hands roam up my back, grinding myself down on his hardening cock.

"What's your plan, Rafe?" I groan against his ear and he yanks my shirt off over my head.

"I'm going to kill Sarah." My bra follows my shirt and he kneads my tits, taking one of my nipples in his mouth.

"Rafe, you can't come back from that. She's your sister." I pant. He yanks back on my hair, forcing me to look at the ceiling as his tugs on my nipple with his teeth. His fingers twist and pull the other one.

"I want to make you cum until you pass out." Rafe growls, licking up the valley between my breasts.

"Rafe, please." He suddenly stands and places me on my back on the bed then removes my jeans and panties.

"I hope you didn't have plans tonight."

[seriouslysnape]

Miscommunication (pt.2)

James Potter x Remus Lupin x Sirius Black x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Language. Poly! relationship. 

A/N: Part 1 is here!

Word Count: 3,376

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

It had been three weeks since you had stormed out of the boys’ dorm in a scurry of anger. It had also been three weeks since you had touched, talked to, or even spared Sirius a passing glance. As far as you were concerned, he didn’t even exist. Despite your dramatic exit, Sirius was confident that you’d crack soon enough and come running back to him, begging for forgiveness. But the more time that passed, the more that he was beginning to realize that might not be the case.

In a general sense, life continued on as it always had. You walked through the Hogwarts’ corridors with the three Gryffindors, laughing at James’ jokes and blushing red under Remus’ kisses. You gave all your love and time to James and Remus, not offering Sirius a drop of your attention. 

He tried to ignore it. He tried to brush it off like it didn’t bother him and like it didn’t make a difference whether you were with him or not. His attempts to drown you out the way you had been drowning him out were successful at first, but it only took about a week for him to realize how much this was killing him.

In the mornings, you woke James or Remus up (depending on whose bed you slept in the night before) with bubbly kisses and sweet giggles, something that you had always done for all three of the boys’ wake up calls. Sirius had gone almost 23 days (but not like he was COUNTING or anything) since he had any kind of interaction with you.

No cuddles.

No hugs.

No kisses.

Nothing.

The whole situation put James and Remus into a bit of an awkward position. You were on great terms with the two of them, considering they hadn’t insulted you and invalidated your feelings right in your face. This was a difficult challenge to tackle, because they felt guilty for continuing to love up on you when Sirius wasn’t getting his usual share. This was a rather particular arrangement that had taken lots of trial and error to make the right adjustments. Now that the balance had been thrown off, the whole thing didn’t feel right.

James and Remus had both tried to convince you to talk things out with Sirius. They knew that deep down this wasn’t what you wanted, and things couldn’t go on like this forever. James and Remus knew Sirius better than anybody. They were fully aware that Sirius was regretting what he had done and was kicking himself for it...even if Sirius wouldn’t show it or admit to it. 

Sirius was beginning to lose precious sleep over this. He tossed and turned in his bed that had grown so lonely without you. His arms felt so empty not being wrapped around you, holding you snugly to his body. Suddenly, he didn’t have anyone to help him with his Potions homework or someone to remind him about his Transfiguration exam coming up. He didn’t have the girl that completed the complex puzzle that was Sirius Black. He felt so unfinished without you.

He missed you.

But his pride was winning out.

“How’s the brat today?” Sirius questioned dryly, not even looking up from his Herbology textbook in his lap.

“Sirius.” Remus and James echoed, clearly displeased at Sirius’ cold name for you.

Over the last three weeks, Sirius would ask about you when you weren’t around and he was alone with the boys. He would ask how you were doing, but what he really wanted to know was if you had said anything about him or given any indications that you were close to giving in. James and Remus were growing impatient with Sirius. They had tried to step back, allowing both yourself and Sirius to have time to allow your fog of frustration to air out. They had hoped that Sirius would come around to realize that he had been wrong in all kinds of ways, and you both could work it out on your own.

Between stepping all over your feelings like they were a sidewalk and calling you a bitch for being rightfully upset, Sirius had one too many strikeouts on his record.

“What? If she’s going to act like a child, then I’ll treat her like one.” Sirius growled.

James crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back in the chair that he was sitting in by the common room’s fireplace. Remus watched the two of them from over the rim of his cup that contained his favorite hot tea. 

“She’s hurt, Sirius. You hurt her,” James snarled, eyebrows furrowed in agitation, “I don’t blame her for not wanting to talk to you.”

“Did you not hear the things she said to me? She was totally out of line.” Sirius argued, his demeanor going rigid and his defensive mode kicking into high gear.

“Because you pushed her too hard,” Remus cut in, “She has every right to be upset.”

Sirius was shocked that they were taking your side over his. You were never allowed to speak to any of them the way you had talked to Sirius that day. You weren’t allowed to talk back, get an attitude, touch yourself without permission, as well as other rules that had been established early on in the relationship. They all took the rules very seriously, and the fact that James and Remus were brushing it off was mind boggling to Sirius.

“I didn’t push her at all. She caught an attitude with me.” Sirius remarked tossing his textbook aside.

“Because you don’t always treat her the way you should,” Remus snapped, “All she wanted was for you to listen and talk to her.” 

“Do I not already do enough for her? I walk her to class, I let her sleep with me, not to mention that I fuck her pretty much whenever she wants,” Sirius pointed out, “And now I’m still not doing enough?”

James shook his head, sighing harshly. He was disappointed that he still wasn’t getting it. 

“She’s our girl, Padfoot. She responds so well to Moony and me because she knows how much we love her,” James explained, “You’ve got to start treating her like you love her.”

Sirius’ hardened features went light at what James was saying. He looked between his two best friends, who were sharing matching expressions of urgency. Sirius felt a sickening feeling creeping into his stomach that he could feel all the way up into his throat. Had you gone this whole time thinking that he didn’t love you like the other two did?

“But...I do love her.” Sirius spoke, almost in a whisper.

James and Remus looked at one another briefly, a bit relieved that he was maybe starting to see clearly now.

“She doesn’t know that. You’re going to lose her for good if you don’t change some things, Pads.” Remus added once he saw that Sirius was beginning to have a serious breakthrough moment.

That surely got Sirius’ attention. That wasn’t something he wanted at all. It made his heart hurt even to think about possibly never being with you again. He had to fix this, no matter what he had to do or say.

He just hoped that it wasn’t too late.

The remorse and the contrition that he was feeling that had been building up in him over the last three weeks was finally seeping through the cracks of the surface. It was like a fire that just kept spreading and spreading until the only thing he could see were the hot, orange flames and black smoke that would suffocate him if he breathed in too hard. It was like a switch had flipped. He couldn’t stand it anymore. He didn’t care about his pride or his image or his dignity. 

He just wanted you back.

So, the boys began to devise a plan. Sirius admitted that he didn’t know how to even begin apologizing to you. He wasn’t great with apologies, considering that even the word ‘sorry’ probably had only fallen from his mouth only a couple of times in his life. This was going to take some calculation and planning to get it right. 

You had been doing a bang up job of ensuring that you weren’t ever alone with Sirius. You made sure that either James or Remus was by your side whenever you were in Sirius’ presence, to avoid being forced to speak to him. Remus and James were confident that they could get you two in a room alone together. That was the easy part. The hard part would fall to Sirius, which came down to the actual apology.

James and Remus knew you’d be suspicious if Sirius apologized first. You’d likely only think he was apologizing because he was touch starved and wanted sex, not because he cared about you and was terrified of losing you. In their eyes though, as long as he was honest and didn’t lose his cool, you’d be able to see his real intentions.

Remus had told you to meet him in their dorm, and that no one would be there until later in the day. That seemed pretty normal to you, so you didn’t even give it a second thought. The dorm was empty when you arrived, prompting you to slip out of your uniform and into one of Remus’ sweaters all while getting comfortable on his bed. Shortly after you were settled, the three boys congregated just outside the door, whispering in their semi-circle formation.

“You got this, mate. Just be normal and be honest,” James instructed, “I guarantee you that she’s missing you just as much.”

Sirius was nervous. Not because he didn’t know what to say or what to do, but because he had half convinced himself that you had already decided he wasn’t worth your time anymore. He couldn’t live with himself if he was the reason you had left him.

“We’ll be out here just in case you need us,” Remus piped up, “It’s gonna be fine, Pads.”

James and Remus gave Sirius reassuring grins as Sirius took a deep breath before turning the knob of the door. He entered the small dorm room, his heart fluttering when he saw you sitting on Remus’ mattress. Your head snapped up, your face full of delightful expectation for Remus, but it faded just as fast as it came when you saw it was Sirius. He definitely noticed, but tried not to take it to heart. Your eyes were locked in with his, and you could already tell something was up.

“Hey.” Sirius said plainly, and in a bit of a squeak.

“Hi.” You replied.

He was honestly surprised that you actually gave him an answer. He thought you might’ve ignored him completely. The joyous relief that he felt from you actually talking to him was almost enough to send him to his knees, pleading for you to give him another chance. 

His gaze did shift to the book that was placed next to you. It was your Herbology textbook, the same one that Sirius had been studying from earlier that day.

“Studying for Herbology?” Sirius asked, but obviously that wasn’t what he wanted to talk about.

“Yeah,” You answered, unsure of what exactly was happening, “I was just waiting for Remus.”

Sirius nodded, avoiding the sting that burned in his chest at the reminder that he hadn’t truly seen you in almost a month. You looked so comfortable in the large sweater and the blanket that was draped over your lap. Your hair was slightly messy from the breeze outside that you had walked through to get here. Your skin was glowing from the warmth of their room and the sudden interaction you were having with Sirius.

You looked perfect to him.

He knew he needed to say something now. He needed to kick start this conversation before things got awkward and weird. Although, he never minded silence as long as he had you to occupy his every thought. All the things that he had planned to say were abruptly wiped from his mind. He was going out on a limb here, totally about to wing this. He just had to go for it.

“Can I sit?” He questioned, referring to the slight open space next to you.

You nodded hesitantly, shifting over so he could have a little more room. He sat down just about a foot in front of you, both of you turning to face each other. James and Remus were just outside the door, their ears pressed up against the door to be sure they didn’t miss anything.

Sirius looked at you for a few moments, taking in your curious, attentive behavior. He took a breath, and spoke again, but it came out as more of a ramble.

“Baby, I know I’ve hurt your feelings. I didn’t want or mean to hurt your feelings, but sometimes I just say stupid shit and then I’m too proud to admit that I said something stupid and...” He trailed off when he realized that so far he wasn’t saying anything that you didn’t already know. 

This was yet another reminder that Sirius wasn’t a great talker. But he wanted to let you know the things that you didn’t already know. He wanted you to know that he was truly sorry. He was sorry for ever making you feel like you weren’t worth anything to him. 

He wanted you to know that you were his world.

“I miss you,” He began again, preparing for any possible reaction from you,  “I’m sorry for everything I said. I’m sorry that I hurt you...I never, ever wanted to do that.”

Your silence wasn’t because you weren’t believing what he was saying or because you didn’t want to listen. You were silent because you were floored that this was happening. Never in a million years did you think that you’d be sitting here listening to a real, heartfelt apology from Sirius Black. The thought of you leaving him had really scared him, and you could see it.

“I know I’m different from Moony and Prongs. They’re a bit better at this than I am,” He admitted, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you.”

Truth be told, you weren’t really mad at Sirius anymore. You could never stay angry at him. Your whole avoid-Sirius-at-all-costs routine hadn’t exactly been a walk in the park for you either. There were several times where you were tempted to just let it go and forget about it. But now you were glad that you hadn’t done that, because you would’ve lost this opportunity to understand one another a little better.

“All I had wanted that day was to talk to you. I like talking to you,” You explained, “I just get frustrated when you don’t want to listen and the only thing you can think about is fucking me.”

Sirius sighed, his eyes diverting to his hands that were fiddling with the edge of the blanket in your lap. He had known that the other two boys were right, but hearing it come from you made him feel even more guilty.

“I know. I guess I’m just not good at talking. It’s not that I didn’t want to, it’s just...not what I’m good at. I’m sorry that I made you feel like you weren’t important,” Sirius confessed, “But I do love you. And I don’t want to go another day without you.”

Another silence filled the room, one that had Sirius’ heart pounding in his chest. He felt like his entire life was on the line. Like, his entire fate was resting on whatever you were going to say or do next. You had every right to get up and walk out and never speak to him again. He knew he had crossed so many lines so many times that it was a wonder you were still here. He just hoped that you’d give him another chance. He hoped that he deserved another chance.

You were starstruck. You were completely touched and moved by what he had said. Maybe it wasn’t the most flawless apology ever. Maybe it was a little rough around the edges with a couple of hiccups. But deep down it was true, honest, and pure. 

Just like the Sirius Black that you had come to love.

He didn’t have anything else to say, and he hoped that what he had said was enough. Your warm hand came to his face, his head lulling into your palm when you brought his worried eyes to look at you once more. 

“I love you. I promise you don’t have to go without me anymore.” You smiled, accepting his apology and offering your forgiveness.

All color returned to Sirius’ face, his shoulders relaxing and his chest releasing a bated breath. You captured his lips into a needy kiss, one that was nothing short of long awaited. Sirius’ hands came to the side of your neck, his blood pumping in his ears. He had missed this. 

He had missed you.

He was even more thrilled when you crawled over into his lap, his hands guiding your legs around him as he refused to let you go from his lips. Although, when the other two boys came bursting in, your hot make out session was forced to a halt. They came in as if they had no idea what was going on, fake surprised expressions plastered on their faces.

“Well, hello there.” James chided with a smirk.

“Did we miss something?” Remus asked.

You and Sirius only laughed, as the four of you crammed together on Remus’ bed. Sirius continued to pepper kisses wherever he could while you craned your head to look at James as he spoke.

“So, I guess the two of you got things worked out?” James acquired. 

“We sure did.” You smiled, giggling when Sirius’ kisses brushed against a particularly sensitive spot on your neck.

Your lips found his again, Sirius leaning you back onto the mattress and keeping secured there. When your breathing began to get heavy and your noises became a little hungrier, James and Remus announced their exit.

“Well, I suppose Prongs and I will leave you to it.” Remus winked.

Sirius broke the kiss only to respond, but that didn’t stop you from leaning upwards to suck on his pulse point, not even phased by what Remus had said.

“You two aren’t going to stick around?” Sirius wondered, groaning as your hips rolled into his quickly hardening dick through his pants.

James shrugged.

“We’ll let it slide this time,” He said triumphantly, ushering Remus out the door, “Besides, the two of you have some catching up to do.”

Sirius let out a guttural laugh as he took a moment to look down at you. You looked so beautiful sprawled out underneath him; your lips swollen from the kissing and your eyes blown with lustful expectation. He knew he’d never be able to take you for granted again.

“My pretty girl...” He mewled, “I love you. A million times over I’ll tell you that I love you.”

“I love you, Siri,” You hummed, swiping a loose piece of hair from his forehead, “Now make me cum the way I know you know how to.”

Sirius chuckled lowly at your boldness, his pupils dilating at the flush of arousal that sent through him. You knew better than to tell him how to run his show, but he knew this was a special occasion, so he didn’t mind taking an order or two. 

“Well, now, what happened to ‘sex doesn’t fix everything’?” Sirius joked.

“It doesn’t, but we already fixed what needed to be fixed by talking,” You smiled, “Now we just both get something we want.”

Sirius laughed out loud, continuing his shower of kisses and swiping your skirt off in one swift move, your body squirming with anticipation. He felt confident that things would be better now. He was more than thankful that he had another shot at this. He was happy he had you back, and the four of you could go back to normal.

And now things would be even better than before.

***

Tags: @justadreamyhufflepuff​ @satellitespidey​ @blackpinkdolan​ @gubleryum​ @gxtitobxby​ @risingtripletaurus​​

[alrightberries]

dante’s inferno

request: wassup homie could you maybe write a college au fic where levi and reader are rommies, then one day reader brings home an adopted cat without levi's prior knowledge? You could decide what happens next lol. Tysm 🥺

❈ pairing: levi ackerman x reader

❈ genre: fluff, semi-crack ❈ word count: 4k

❈ summary: college au. in which you bring a stray cat to your dorm and your neat freak roommate won’t let you keep it.

alternatively: a compilation of college shenanigans where you and levi are best friends who are bad with feelings (ft. an unamused cat named dante)

❈ trigger warnings: profanity. mentions of alcohol and smoking. implied smut.

a/n: this was supposed to be loosely based on the nine circles of hell according to inferno by dante alighieri— hence the title— but i did my research wrong so now it’s loosely based on the seven terraces of purgatory according to divine comedy. i’m keeping the title tho.

Inspired by this art by @ryuichirou on tumblr.

Permission to repost art was granted by the artist. Do not repost/edit the art without explicit permission from the artist.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

i. first terrace: pride

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why?”

“We’re not keeping it.”

“But why.”

Levi’s tongue clicks in annoyance. His eyes glance next you where the offending creature lay on your bed; tail curling, paws kneading at his your favorite fleece blanket. Quite frankly he’s a little offended when the little shit has the audacity to glare at him back.

He’ll never admit it, but his ego’s a bit bruised because the cat’s glare was slightly better than his.

“I said no,” he firmly replies, looking back to you. “It’s bad enough I have to share a room with an anarchist who has no respect for boundaries—“

“One time, I forgot to use a coaster that one time!”

“—and now you expect me to share a room with a dirty fur ball who does nothing but eat, shit, and sleep?”

“He’s a cat, Levi.” You murmur, scooping the cat into your arms. “And he has a name,” you give a nervous smile when you see your rommate grit his teeth. He feels a headache coming.

“You named it?”

“Dante is not an ‘it’.”

Levi makes a move to step closer but immediately stops when the ‘Dante’ hisses at him.

“Aw, he likes you.” You coo.

“Clearly,” he replies unenthusiastically. “Listen,” he sighs. “I respect your cat’s pronouns but that doesn’t mean he’s allowed to stay. Or do I need to remind you of the mac and cheese incident?”

Okay, maybe he was on to something. If you got caught with a pet in the dorms you’d breach your third and final warning, and you’d be forced to dorm off-campus. The fact that you were still here after the mac and cheese incident was solely because Levi pulled some strings (aka asked Erwin, golden boy of the campus who owed him a favor, to pull some strings).

But you couldn’t just let Dante go. There was something about him that felt so familiar; something about his black fur, thin silver eyes, unamused snarl, and overall grumpy demeanor. Especially endearing was the way he’d grumble and pretend to be annoyed whenever you tried to cuddle him but would complain if you stopped.

You just couldn’t figure out who or what he reminded you of.

Maybe you would’ve figured it out too if you weren’t so distracted with watching Levi and Dante stare at each other. Your eyes dart back and forth between the grouchy cat sitting on your bed and your grouchy roommate sitting on his desk. Both were slightly crouched over with their heads tilted up in a show of dominance; they were engaged in what seemed to be a glaring contest, gunmetal irises unamused and mouths taut in a snarl as they protected their territory.

You sigh. You really, for the life of you, couldn’t figure out why Dante felt so familiar.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

ii. second terrace: envy

Levi is not jealous. He’s not.

At least that’s what he tells himself as he sulks alone on his bed. His arms are crossed and his lips are in a pout, eyebrows knitted in distaste, occasionally glancing to your side of the room where you sat up on your bed. He’s sure whatever movie you chose to watch together is interesting and all, but right now all he could pay attention to was that stupid cat. Sitting on your stupid lap. Getting its fur stroked by your stupid hand. Getting all the love and affection his stupid self should be receiving.

It was him you should be cuddling, not Dante. Saturday nights were reserved for him and you, not you and a cat while he happened to be in the room. He’s been trying to make a move on you since high school and he can’t fucking believe he’s losing your attention to a cat. Sure, he’s always been too chicken to make a move and had to suffer seeing you get together with assholes— as per your type during your emo high school days— but this was a new low. He can’t wrap his head around the concept that he’s losing his longterm crush to a motherfucking cat.

When you coo at how adorable the fleabag was for what felt like the 50th time that night, Levi decides he’s had enough of the cuddle-hogging piece of shit.

Wordlessly, he crosses to your side of the room and lifts the cat from its perch, ignoring your protests as he sets it down on the floor and tells it to ‘scram, you little fuck.’ He uses a hand to dust your lap free of any microscopic cat particles Dante probably left behind before lying down his head down once he was satisfied. He grabs your hand to put it on his hair.

“Stroke.” He orders, eyes closing.

“What? No! You pushed off Dante.”

“He was in my spot.”

“You couldn’t have given up your lap pillow for one night?”

“One night?” He scoffs and turns to look at you. “You’ve been abandoning me for two weeks. That disgusting, tic-infested, rabies-carrying slob has no business sitting on your lap.”

“He’s not disgusting, you gave him a shower before you agreed to let me keep him. And I took him the vet to make sure he had all his shots. He’s clean, Levi.”

“Tch, good. Now throw him out and let him find someone else to freeload from.”

“Okay, what’s going on?” You guffaw. “You’ve been grumpier than usual. And why’re you being such an ass to Dante? He’s just a cat.”

“Don’t think he’s special in some way. I’m an ass to everyone.”

“Then why does it feel like you’re always extra mean to him?”

He doesn’t reply. His lips are downturned into a frown when he looks away with a click of his tongue, and you realize with a sigh you won’t be getting an answer from your cryptic roommate soon. Your fingers start mindlessly stroking his undercut when you get lost in your thoughts— a habit you developed through years of Levi using your lap as a pillow. He always complained the first few times you did it but you knew it calmed both him and you, and that it put both your minds at ease. Moreso Levi right now, apparently.

You’re keenly aware of how he seems to curl up into you the more you keep going. You watch as his shoulders slump down when you stroke the side of his face, and his eyebrows relax slightly. From your angle, you could even see the way his eyes close in content. Maybe even a tiny smile if you were being delusional.

Your lip twitches upward.

“Oh my god, Levi, are you jealous of a cat?”

“Shut up and play with my hair.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iii. third terrace: wrath

“You owe me a new cravat.”

You blink up at your roommate. “What?”

“You owe me a new cravat.” He repeats. He pulls from his pocket a white piece of fabric— barely recognizable— torn into shreds, releases it mid-air. It gently lands on your open palm.

“Wait, did Dante do this?” You ask, eyeing the slik in your hands.

“Unless you went feral in the middle of the fucking night and decided to cut up my clothes, yes.”

“Oh my god, Levi, I’m so sorry. I swear Dante will never—“

“You actually owe me three cravats,” he interjects. “The first two I overlooked since they weren’t that expensive but I draw the line here.” His lips are downturned into a frown, eyes poorly concealing his clear distaste. “This one’s my favorite and it was made from silk.”

You eye the fabric in your hands once more before nodding in understanding, setting down the once beautiful cravat before taking out your wallet. It was only fair that you paid him back; he was being more than generous with letting your cat stay and keeping it a secret, and now you wonder how many bad things Dante’s done that Levi’s overlooked or simply never brought up with you.

“Sure, I’m really sorry. How much do I owe you?”

Levi doesn’t say anything. Instead he pulls out his phone and types something on what you could only assume was google, most likely looking for the same brand of the cravat your cat had just torn into shreds. You weren’t entirely sure how much those could cost, but surely you could afford—

“What the fuck!” You screech, eyeing the page with very, very hefty price tags listed. Holy fucking hell where did he even get the money to buy something so expensive. Gulping, you nervously look up at your unimpressed roommate. You already knew he was taking it easy on you; his aura was the only thing intimidating, at least he wasn’t giving you the murder eyes. And even though he was a man of his word, you were thankful he hasn’t reported Dante.

Still, it didn’t change the fact that Levi looked pissed beyond belief.

“Uhm... can I pay you with a check that’ll definitely bounce?”

“You will pay me in cash.”

“Fuck, fine!”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

iv. fourth terrace: sloth

Levi silently works on his desk. His laptop’s open in fromt of him, numerous notes from classes and books from the library surrounding him. The gentle sounds of clicking and clacking echoe throughout the room as fingers typed at the keyboard, eyes concentrated and lips pulled taught as he focuses on his task. He’s on a roll. He’s almost done with this part of his research, nothing could snap him out of this, he just needs to—

“Levi, when do you think Dante will come back to me?”

He stops typing and grits his teeth.

This is how it’s been the entire night. Ten minutes of peace before you ask him some stupid questions that could’ve been answered with common sense.

“Fuck if I care.”

“Do you think it was something I did?”

He resumes typing. “Yes.”

“Do you think he’ll come back?”

“No.”

“Even after all we’ve been through?”

“Still no.”

“I miss him,” you sigh. “I miss him so much.”

“Then you shouldn’t have left the door open.”

It’s been a week since Dante escaped the dorm and Levi doesn’t understand why you’re still so depressed about it. I mean, you only lost a cat that you loved and treasured and treated like family. Surely a week of moping around in your pajamas and eating nothing but chips and soda was catharsis enough.

He hears you shift in your burrito blanket, presumably to turn away from him so you can sulk into the wall next to your bed. Good. Now he can get back to working on—

“Levi do you think Dante-“

“Enough.” He grits, slamming his laptop shut.

“Where’re you going?” You ask, eyeing the way he hurriedly stuffs papers and books into his bag along with his laptop.

“Out.” He replies, grabbing his keys and his coat. “I can’t stand this shit anymore.”

Your head is burried in your blankets when he slams the door shut and all you could do was slump down because great. You lost Dante, and now you’ve royally pissed off Levi.

Great. Just fucking great.

Unlike your cat, however, your roommate comes back hours later, just before curfew. He doesn’t bother with a hello— he never does— and neither do you, opting to stay hidden underneath the sheets. Though suddenly, there’s a dip in the mattress followed by a pur next to your head.

Could it be?

“Dante?” You murmur, lifting your head from underneath your cocoon of fabric. Small black paws and silver eyes meet your gaze. “Dante!” Immediately sitting up, you pulled him to your lap, scratching his little head and cooing about how much you missed him as he purred and curled into to you.

Levi would never say it, but he missed seeing you smile at the little fleabag.

You turn to look at your roommate. “How’d you find him?”

“Asked around the campus. He wandered into another dorm building and probably thought it was ours.”

“Well yeah but... I thought you hated him?”

“I do.” He replies instantly.

“Then why’d you find him?”

“I hate him, not you.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

v. fifth terrace: avarice

“I fucking hate both of you,” Levi grumbles, staring at the dorm.

Towers of boxes lined his supposed to be clean dorm room. He had a hard time prying the door open since it was blocked, and he wasn’t even sure how the boxes weren’t blocking out the light from how high they were piled. Dante’s sat on a stack of box directly next to the door, purring and flicking his tail around. Levi squints his eyes and glares at the little shit.

“You especially.”

“Mrow?”

Levi’s day had been, with no irony or sarcasm at all, amazing. He got a good grade on his research paper; the guy in front of him at the cafe accidentally ordered an extra serving of (coincidentally, Levi’s favorite) tea and gave it to him for free; and he got full marks for the presentation he’s been worrying about for weeks. His class even got dismissed early so he had an extra hour for lunch. He knew you didn’t have classes, so in honor of his great day he thought he’d do something nice and take you out for lunch. His treat, of course.

But any trace of his good mood vanished when he went back to the dorms and got greeted to a room that looked like it came from an episode of Hoarders.

This is what he gets for trying to be nice.

“Levi! Is that you?” You called out.

“What the fuck happened?”

You laugh sheepishly— at least Levi thinks you do. He couldn’t see you beyond the hundred boxes that took up your shared room. He hears some rustling and the sound of things being moved around before finally your head pops out from behind a wall of brown, smiling at him apologetically before walking towards him (and tripping a few times).

“Remember when I said I’d order some toys for Dante as a surprise?”

Levi’s eye twitches. “Don’t tell me—”

“I accidentally ordered 10,000 instead of 10. Online shopping struggles, am I right?” You nervously chuckle at his pissed off face. Levi was not in the mood.

Your smile widens as you make twinkly gestures with your hands. “So uh... surprise?”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vi. sixth terrace: gluttony

The clinic is still when you first entered.

The harsh smell of alcohol and sterile metal makes your nose grimace, and the coldness of the thermostat brings goosebumps to your arms. Behind the wall, somewhete in the waiting room, cats are hissing, dogs are barking, and you could even hear the sound of birds angrily chirping and rattling their cages.

Dante cowers in fear on the silver table, and your heart aches. His ears are down and his fur’s standing on its ends, but you couldn’t comfort him. Not right now, at least. The veterinarian still needed to do a few more checks.

You gulp, “how’s... how’s Dante looking, doc?”

“Not good,” she murmurs. Her eyebrows are furrowed, and she takes a deep sigh as she eyes the information on the chart. “It’ll take months before he can walk properly again, possibly more if we don’t do anything about it soon.”

“Don’t tell me... is he—-”

“I’m sorry, my dear,” she sighs. “But your cat is heavily obese.”

The corners of your lips twitch down into a frown, and your palm is warm when you start to stroke Dante’s fur. He calms down a bit from your touch, less on edge but still guarded as he warily eyes the doctor’s gloved hands.

“But I don’t understand,” you reply. “I’ve been following the recommended diet you put him on, and I haven’t been feeding him anything other than the cat food and vitamins you recommended. How’s he still obese?”

“Well, we could look into other solutions, but for now I think we ought to look at whether or not Dante has an underlying health problem.”

Levi tunes out the chatter between you and the vet, bored eyes staring into nothing. He’s leaning against a wall and he’s watching the cat carrier. Your bag’s slung over his shoulders and your coat’s in his arms, and he was sure you didn’t even need him to be here for “moral support.”

He mentally scoffs. You probably just needed a chauffeur to drive you for free, and honestly, Levi would rather feel like a chauffeur than a coat rack.

His eyes make contact with Dante’s, and all the fear in the cat’s eyes is suddenly gone, replaced with a steely glare and bared teeth. A warning, one no one else notices but him.

Levi gives him a solitary nod, understanding what Dante wanted to say.

Don’t tell Y/N I’ve been sneaking to the neighbors.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

vii. seventh terrace: desire

There’s something about the buzz of alcohol and nicotine that makes Levi confident—- the liquid courage in his veins and the smoke in his lungs clouding his judgement. Perhaps that’s where he finally gets the balls to cross the room, drunken eyes on your equally intoxicated ones, before he pulls you in for a kiss.

The kiss starts slow, with lips just interlocking and lightly testing the waters. But then he feels your tongue make its way inside his mouth and your fingers weave into his hair to tug him closer, and Levi loses the last threads of inhibition he has. His tongue massages yours and one of his arm wraps around your waist, the other comes down to grope and knead your ass. He feels you walk backwards and your hand pulls at his tie, dragging him with you. Suddenly he’s trapping you against a wall, lifting one of your legs up to wrap around his hips so he could grind his crotch into yours.

Levi doesn’t expect his first kiss with you to be like this; messy and full of tongue and spit, full of fingers clawing at clothes and small grunts escaping your lips. He was hoping it’d be more romantic, with warm cheeks and fingers softly intertwining, shy kisses exchanged through little smiles.

But he’s not about to complain—- he’s wanted to be with you for years, and god he loved having you like this. Loved having you all hot and desperate, trapped between his firm chest and the wall. His cock is hard in his pants, and he just about growls when he feels you start to undo his belt, the fly of his pants coming down as you got on your knees and stared up at him with innocent eyes as you pull out his aching boner. There’s a cheeky grin your face when you pump at his length, and your tongue peaks out of your mouth before—

“Levi, are you okay?”

His eyes snap open, and he’s greeted to the sight of your worried face directly above his.

“Fuck!” he yells, and his forehead slams into yours when he flinches away. “Sorry, sorry” he quickly ammends when you yelp in pain.

He’s covered in sweat, he notices. Chest heaving, heart beating a little too loud for his liking, and he silently pulls the blankets over his cum stained boxers when you sit beside him.

God, he was really hoping you wouldn’t notice the fact that he came in his pants like a high schooler. And it was before dream you even got to suck him off. How much more pathetic could he be.

“Are you okay?” He asks, and you nod.

“Yeah, m’fine, it’s just...” your eyes are distracted, staring off into space. Fingers trace his thighs, and you sigh. “You were having a nightmare,”

Levi blinks. “What?”

“You were having a nightmare,” you repeat. “Kept tossing and turning and groaning in your sleep. And you kept making these... funny faces,”

“...right,” he nods. Sure, a nightmare. A nightmare he never wanted to wake up from.

It takes about ten minutes to reassure you that yes, he was fine, don’t mind the way his cheeks are flushed, he was just... shaken up from his nightmare, is all. Then you’re back to bed, sleeping the night away, and twenty minutes later he’s on his way back to bed too; this time with a fresh pair of boxers and a content look on his face, all thanks to him finishing off his fantasies in the communal bathroom during his shower.

The door makes a quiet click when he shuts it behind him, and he freezes when he catches sight of Dante sat up on your bed, tail flicking behind him as he gives Levi a knowing look.

Levi squints his eyes, and he threateningly whispers, “you tell no one.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

epilogue

The half empty room brings a frown to your face, and all you could do was pout as you sealed up the last of the boxes.

“Why do you have to leave again?” you ask, and Levi turns around as he finishes folding the last of his clothes. He shrugs. “Cats aren’t allowed in the dorms.”

You owed him your entire college career, that much was sure. The RA’s found out about Dante, and Levi had taken the fall to spare you. He wasn’t required to move out since it was only his first strike, but he insisted on doing so so that Dante wouldn’t be alone, saying he already found an apartment nearby and he’ll never hear the end of it from you if he didn’t take Dante with him.

Bullshit. Levi had a soft spot for Dante, you knew that much. He wasn’t doing it for you, he was doing it for himself. Though normally you’d be overjoyed to know that Levi really did secretly like the cat he pretended to hate so much, this time, you were just pissed. You couldn’t believe a fucking cat was stealing away the guy you’ve been in love with since high school. Sure, you were too much of a coward to ask him out, but he was basically your boyfriend already—- the entire campus knew you inadvertently had dibs on each other.

“Yeah but... do you have to leave me alone?”

“I asked you to come with me, and you said no.” He points out. “I still don’t see why when we’ve been roommates since we were freshmen.”

“It’s different off-campus!”

“How?”

“Because it’s like... it’s like we’re moving in together, y’know?” you reply. “And it seemed wrong to move in with you when we’re not even dating.”

“Let’s do it, then.”

“What do you mean?”

He sighs, handing you a spare key to what you could only assume was his new apartment. You glance between him and the key in your hands, and he rolls his eyes when he realizes that you still don’t get it.

“I know we’re doing this backwards since couples don’t typically move in before the first date,” he says before gesturing to Dante. “But we already have a son, and I know you’re his favorite parent. We can share custody until you can move in with me.”

You blink. “What?” Your brain stopped working when Levi referred to you as a couple, and you’re pretty sure your heart stopped beating too. At this point, anything he said went in one ear and out the other. He flicks your forehead.

“Hey— ow! What was that for?”

“You weren’t listening.”

“And you’re being a prick!” you grumble. “It hurts, y’know.”

He scoffs. “What do you want me to do? Kiss it better?” he scoffs.

Your mouth moves faster than your brain, “I’d rather you kiss me.”

Wait. What?

Before you could go back on your words, Levi shrugs. Warm palms gently grab your cheeks, pulling your face closer to his. Your eyes widen and you momentarily freeze, brain definitely not working anymore. He hesitates when you don’t make a move, but then you’re shyly leaning forward, and that was all the confirmation Levi needs.

“If you insist,” he whispers, and suddenly your words die on your tongue when his lips interlock with yours.

alrightberries © 2020. do not modify or repost.

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[realcube]

video games + blowjob 🎮

characters: bakugo, kirishima, sero & kaminari

tw// oral (giving), swearing, fem!reader, nsfw - minors dni

all aged up!

katsuki bakugo

♡ bakugo only finds the time to play video games once every millennia 

♡ most of the time, he’s working, training or spending time with you 

♡ also he only plays when the bakusquad arrange a time + date on the gc bc - he’ll never admit it - but he misses talking to them and playing like he used to, so the occasional Battlefield call they have really triggers a sense of nostalgia for all of them

♡ but the calls usually last a good while though lol - minimum 5 hours

♡ usually you let him be and don’t bother him during his calls bc you know how rarely he gets to call his pals but one day, he had been teasing you so much leading up to  his call - leaving you extra needy - and you couldn’t really help yourself

♡ so you snuck into the study room while he was playing, starting off by giving him a light massage which he enjoyed but the problem arose when you slowly got to your knees and began pawing at his sweatpants

♡ that’s when he noticed that you dressed up in your best lace for him too, which made him hard lol

♡ at first he looked pissed off and tried to ignore you but he kept losing focus on the game, his mind brimming with all the things he wanted to do with you

♡ eventually, he gave in and briefly muted his mic to hiss in your ear, ‘fine. but if you make a single fuckin’ sound or try to tease me, i’ll fuck you for all of them to hear, kay?’

♡ you simply hum in agreement before pulling both his boxer and sweatpants down without hesitation, then getting to work

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

bakugo growled deeply, at both your expert mouth movements around his hard member and at the shitty orders kirishima gave. “ ‘over here’ ? where the fuck is that?” it took an embarrassing amount of effort to suppress his moans while said that.

but he wasn’t all to blame. as you made it a point to deep-throat him as soon as you thought he was going to open his mouth to say something. 

“what happened to you, bakugo? you’re so quiet! is everything okay?” mina offhandedly pointed out while heading to the ‘over here’ that kirishima described. although you couldn’t hear what mina said since bakugo was wearing a headset, his reaction was enough to amuse you. 

bakugo snarled, immediately barking profanities at her, “shut it, pinkie! nothing’s fucking wrong! now get back to shoot-” he realised he was on the verge of climaxing so he desperately went to mute is mic before letting a moan escape his lips as he slumped back into his chair in pure bliss, his eyes rolling back into his head slightly as faint pops could be heard from his sweaty palms.

something about the pleasure you worked so hard to bring him an shot an indescribable sense of euphoria through his body, hence he reached down to ruffle your hair without averting his eyes from the screen. “good girl. now scram.”

eijiro kirishima 

♡ again, he doesn’t really have time for video games; his main priorities are work, training & you 

♡ but sometimes video games can fall into the ‘you’ category bc occasionally he asks you to play super mario cart, animal crossing, wii sports etc with him

♡ the only time he plays video games without you is when he plays with the bakusquad on the arranged date they planned

♡ but before the call starts, you can tell he is really tense by the way he is biting his nails so you inquire about it and he kinda just gestures to your new - rather revealing - pyjama set then at his throbbing erection

♡ and ofc being the supportive gf you are, you offered to give him a blowie

♡he loved the idea but at first, he was kinda worried that he might get caught since he is usually very vocal during sex so obviously it’d be hard to just...stop

♡ however you reassured him that he’s manliest guy you’ve ever met so he’d definitely be able to resist a few moans

♡ so he came around quite quickly lol

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

“come over here quickly!” kirishima commanded proudly into the mic, a wide grin spread across his face at not only how good you were making him feel, but also at how well he was repressing his moans and the praise he so desperately wanted to give you for sucking so skilfully.

he had to say though, the amount of energy it was talking him to do all of the above was enough to leave him exhausted to the point that the game was just a blur of background noise. and the bakusquad could tell something was wrong as usually kirishima has the best aim out of them all but he has yet to make a single headshot.

although his eyes were glued to the screen, his mind was fixated on only you and how good you made him feel. as he approached his orgasm, he simply let his eyelids flutter shut as he focussed on the little movements you made; your tongue rubbing the underside of his cock, your occasional desperate attempts to deepthroat him, the way your lips wrapped perfectly around his girth, how you resorted to using your hands to take care of the parts of his length that your mouth couldn’t fit. 

“good job.” he hummed his praise for you as he felt you helplessly try to take him into your throat once more before he was ready to cum but the moments leading up to his high were interrupted by a “thanks, man!” from denki which made kirishima’s eyes widen before he hastily muted his mic, allowing himself to orgasm in your mouth from there and let out all the loud moans he had been hiding. 

“thanks, baby.” he said, slowly feeling the post-cum ecstasy fade as he leaned over to press a gentle kiss on your forehead, proceeding to slap his hand over your mouth as he noticed you were about to head in the direction of the bin. “swallow it.”

hanta sero

♡ since sero became a pro-hero he definitely plays way less video games than he did before but he didn’t quit

♡ but whenever he does play, you’re either on his lap or giving him a blowie 

♡ so needless to say, this wouldn’t be your first time sucking him off while he played

♡ anyway, y’all were getting ✨spicy ✨ one day until he realised that he had a call + battlefield scheduled with the bakusquad

♡ deadass he was kissin’ down your neck while rubbing circles on your clothed clit until he just faltered like ‘oh shit i’ve got a call with ‘em today, don’t i?’

♡ DFRGTHYJU you were livid >:((

♡ bc he had got you all riled up and now he was just gonna leave 😩

♡ you asked him if he could skip the call just this once to finish what he started but he was like ‘bros before hoes’ while putting on his headset 

♡ but being the generous king he is, he unzipped to allow you to give him a blowie while he played 

♡ at first you were all pouty bc he should be the one giving you oral but once you realised that it was his offer or nothing, you begrudgingly got to your knees and began 

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

“eijiro, cover-- eijiro! kirishima!” he yelled into his mic, clearly getting riled up from the high action of the game and the matching high action of your mouth. “hellooo? you there, man? oi, i think kiri ‘s afk.” sero reasoned, looking at the frozen figure of his teammate. 

he felt the tip of his cock hit the back of your throat so he couldn’t help but look down at you, shooting you a cocky smirk instead of the moan you were expecting. he knew what you were trying to do but he wanted to make it clear that it wasn’t going to work on him.

sero had lots of practise at choking back moans and hiding orgasms so it was going to take much more than deepthroating to catch him off-guard. 

he momentarily muted his mic so he could instruct you to go deeper while simultaneously grabbing fistful of your hair to force you to deepthroat him once more, bringing him much closer to his orgasm.

eventually, he suddenly reached his climax but you didn’t allow him to mute himself; you wanted to see him struggle. but unfortunately for you, it was hardly an issue as by now, he was used to cumming silently. but you forgive him as the faces he mada are enough to make you wet as hell.

“alright, mr tough guy.” you purred in his ear, muting his mic for your sake, “let me ride you. let’s see how quiet you can be then, hm?”

challenge accepted. 

denki kaminari 

♡ probably still plays video games a lot - even when he gets a job as a pro-hero

♡ but mans still got his priorities straight so if you ever approach him while he’s playing, saying that you’re feeling a bit horny, he’ll quit real quick lmao

♡ and a video games session with the bakusquad is no exception

♡ you’re feeling horny just thinking about the way he ate you out last night so you told him you want to return the favour as you watch him put on his headset

♡ you knew this was a special time with his friends though so you would’ve been too hurt if he said no but ofc he gladly accepted your offer

♡ but he still wanted to play though so he was a bit conflicted for a moment or two until an idea struck him

♡ ‘just blow me while i play, babe!’

♡ to say you were confused and a little concerned would be accurate, so you inquired further to make sure that he was 100% comfortable with it and he’d deal with the repercussions of a slipped moan 

♡ he seemed confident that it wouldn’t happen though - a little too confident. but this stemmed from the fact sero had told him that he lets his girl suck him off while he plays video games and nobody ever notices. but kaminari didn’t realise that sero’s impressive ability came from years of practise.

♡ you obliged though, happily setting yourself on your knees in front of him and taking his length into your mouth 

♥　♡　♥　♡　♥　♡　♥

“thanks, man!” kaminari exclaimed cheerily, a bright smile spread across his face; partially due to his teammate’s praise but mostly how he’s made it so long into the call without a single moan despite the fact you were making him feel so good down there.

however, as you looked up at him and observed his cocky smirk, something snapped inside you - as it reminded you of the grin he wore last night that you got to see when he’d occasionally pull away from your soaking cunt for air. hence, you recalled how much of a tease he was yesterday and how it pissed you off to no end.

so now that he was sitting submissive to your touch in front of you, why not take your revenge?

your neck slowly retreated backwards to the point where the only thing connecting you to kaminari’s cock was a string of saliva, to which he instinctively whined, “hey! w-why’d ya stop?” completely disregarding the fact he forgot to turn his mic of so mina replied, “who stopped what?” out of confusion.

kaminari’s eyes widened and his face flushed in a way that brought you great amounts of satisfaction, so for being good entertainment, you rewarded him by unhurriedly enveloping his cock with your mouth once more. 

“oh, nothing!” kaminari choked back a moan, realising that his high was fast approaching so he acted accordingly, going to mute his mic, “one second gu-- ah~” the front is cock was finally  - and suddenly - welcomed into the walls of your throat, followed by rapid thrusts which was enough to result in an irrepressible groan escaping his lips.

luckily, his finger found the mute button before the bakusquad was forced to listen to the rest of kaminari’s orgasm. “fuck, baby~” he groaned, tossing his head back in pleasure as his hips jerked back and forth and before he knew it, he was at his climax. out of habit, he yanked his dick away to cum all over your face and chest, barley able to see the masterpiece he created through his heavy lids.

once he finished, he looked down at you with a proud smile, drool staining the corner of his lip, “always so pretty for me~”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Anything else, Mr. Barber?

Warnings: noncon sexual acts and rape, cheating, coercion, blow job, somniphilia, abuse of power, no edit.

This is dark!Andy Barber and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Andy Barber is fed up with his tardy assistant.

Based on these drabble requests: 

Andy Barber + somniphilia + “You’re late.” + Andy waking up the reader with sex. 

Andy Barber + losing a bet + “do it or I’ll make you.” + Reader bets on something she's confident about, and agrees (ig?) to go down on Andy if she loses. When she inevitably loses, she's reluctant… 

Andy Barber + “Do it or I’ll make you.” + abuse of power + Andy wants his cock sucked by his young assistant, but she's a little reluctant. 

Andy Barber + “Why are you crying?” + Somniphilia + Something where he forces himself on her and she doesn’t wake up until the end 

You knocked with your elbow before the voice came from the other side of the door, staunch and irritated. Fuck, you were late again. It wasn’t your fault, the cafe was crowded and your boss hated the vending machines river water. You let yourself in but Andy didn’t even look up as you entered.

You put the paper cup down as you greeted him, “Mr. Barber.”

“You’re late,” he kept his eyes on the folder in front of him.

“I got held up at--”

He took the cup and sniffed the brim. He scrunched his lips and sat up, his eyes meeting yours at last.

“Cream or milk?” he frowned.

“Milk, like always,” you wisped, your heart still beating from your frantic race to the office.

He took a sip and put it back heavily. He swallowed stiffly and cleared his throat.

“You sure?” he gave a fickle grimace, “tastes like cream.”

“I swear I ordered milk--”

“Just like you said yesterday you wouldn’t be late again.”

“I tried, I--”

“No more excuses,” he crossed his arms, “you’re late one more time and you owe me.”

“I’ll stay late tonight,” you offered.

“No, we’ll see,” he shifted in his chair, “if you can keep track of time, maybe we won’t have to.”

“I’m sorry--”

“You have work to catch up on,” he interrupted again and dropped his arms, he leaned back and grabbed a paper from the pile, “go on.”

You left and sighed as you closed the door behind you. You went to your desk, only a few feet from his office and took off your jacket. You really tried to be on time but Andy just didn’t seem to realise that his last minute texts for you to head down to the archives or to hit the coffee shop weren’t helping. That or he just didn��t care.

You booted your computer and fished around for a pen in your bag. Your leg jiggled as you thought about the next day, maybe if you left earlier you might avoid another slip-up.

☕

A week. A whole week and every day you were right on time. Andy couldn’t complain as you brought him his dark roast with milk and his documents in their acrid folders. It cost you some sleep and some early morning road rage, but he had nothing to gripe about as you met him with a smile.

It didn’t last. You hit a train at midtown and that threw your whole day off. Usually you missed it as the freight came at the same time every morning. The universe liked to see you fail.

Again you entered after a knock. Andy didn’t say anything as you set down his cup and you hesitated to leave as you waited for his reproach. Still nothing. You went to the door and his chaired squeaked.

“Before you leave tonight, we need to talk,” he snarled.

“Yes, Mr. Barber,” you pulled the door open.

“I need the Hanson files copied,” you heard him toss the envelope and you turned around.

“Will do,” you neared and took the manila casing.

“Collated and stapled,” he stared you down, “now go. I’m done wasting time.”

You retreated and flinched as the door clicked behind you. You pushed your head back and cringed. Fucking train.

☕

This time, Andy was late. It wasn’t unusual that his hearings ran long but you knew if you left, it would be worse. The elevator dinged and you watched the doors. He stepped out and bid a goodbye to whoever else was within. He didn’t even glance at you as he quieted and swept by your desk.

He snapped his fingers as he opened the door to his office and you stood. You felt like a dog, your tail between your legs as you followed.

“Close the door,” he said and you obeyed again.

He dropped his bag against his desk and sat. He rolled the chair back as he spread his legs wide and stretched his arms behind his head. He rubbed his eyes and his hands fell onto his thighs. He tilted his head and his jaw twitched as you faced him nervously.

“How many times do we have this conversation?”

“Please, there was a train--”

“Always something. The whole world is against you,” he scowled. “Well, I’m done with warnings. You were late and you owe me.”

“Mr. Barber--”

“Don’t worry, I’ve been thinking about it all day, how to settle this all,” his lips curved slightly, “we had a deal. You’re late, you pay.”

You were silent and slightly confused. You gulped and his fingers tapped on his pants. You winced as suddenly he gripped his belt buckle and unhooked it.

“Mr--”

“Get over here,” he said.

“Wha--”

“We’re done talking, so get over here and show me you want this job,” he sneered, “because it really doesn’t seem like you do.”

“No, I-- you can’t--”

“Do it or I’ll make you,” he shifted as he reached down his dress pants and pushed down his pale blue boxers.

“Mr.--”

“You make me real tired of repeating myself and if I have to again, this conversation and your time here is over,” his eyes bore into you and you wavered on your feet.

You took a careful step, waiting for him to stop you, waiting for him to tell you he was kidding. He didn’t and you took another and another until you were behind his desk. He turned his chair to face you and stroked himself above his open fly. Your lips parted as you couldn’t help but stare.

“I don’t have to tell you how to suck it, do I?” he taunted.

You inhaled and grabbed the desk as you got to your knees. He kept playing with himself as he wheeled closer. He angled his dick forward and tapped your lips as you bent over him. You let out your breath and opened your mouth. You wetted the tip with your tongue before you stretched your lips around it.

His hand fell from his dick and went to the back of your head. He urged you down and groaned as he felt the resistance at the back of your throat. You choked as he forced himself deeper and you breathed through your nose. His other hand went to your shoulder as he guided your motion, slowly at first.

The sloppy noise of your mouth filled the office and you gripped the top of his pants as you struggled to keep going. Your eyes watered and the droplets hovered along your lashes. He moved you fast and moaned as his fingertips swirled over your scalp.

“That’s it,” he said, “knew you must be good for something.”

You murmured around his dick and he hissed. Your throat constricted around him as you gagged and he shoved your head down over and over.

“Don’t make a mess now,” he purred.

He pulled you back and slammed you down all at once. He held you there and rolled his hips as he jerked and came down your throat. You let out a pathetic sputter and gasped as you gulped down his salty cum. Your throat milked his dick and he sighed as he eased out of your mouth.

You fell back and caught yourself on your hands. He rubbed his thighs and stared down at his wet cock, “whew, well, let’s hope you’re late again tomorrow.”

☕

You weren’t late again but that only seemed to make Andy’s temper worse. Even as you arrived before him, he seemed irked by your very existence. He got his coffee, his files, and anything else he could think to demand. You got your peace even if it wasn’t entirely that.

You were tired all the time. You made double sure to be at the office a full hour before your start and you even stayed late, just in case he wanted to punish you for leaving without his say so.

Several weeks passed but things didn’t get better, especially as each time you walked into his office, you felt him in your throat, heard his dark moans. 

That day was no different as you waited for him and his black jacket flapped against you as he brushed past you without so much as a good morning. You turned and followed him into his office and put his coffee down. He shook his head and sat.

He took a drink and grimaced. “Cold,” he muttered.

“Sorry, Mr. Barber, I--”

“Go,” he waved you off.

You swallowed your voice and went. You sat at your desk and heard a sudden splat and the hollow clatter of the coffee cup. Was he mad at you? About what? You were early everyday, you got him everything he asked for, you did your job, you lived at work… what more could he want?

☕

When his assistant wasn’t late the next day, Andy was smug. He’d taught her her place and gotten off in the process.

At first, he’d nearly slapped himself for the idea. He knew it was wrong but he was tired of her being late, tired of being unhappy about everything in his life. Laurie barely looked at him as she brought her work home, Jacob was too busy with his friends to need his dad, and this woman couldn’t even bring him his coffee on time.

It was a simple solution to two problems. It eased both his stress over his errant employee and the neglect of his marriage. It didn’t last, but she wasn’t late again. Even after a week, even after two, then three. His frustration returned and so did his need.

He couldn’t look at her. Everytime he did, he saw her on her knees, head bobbing over his lap, and heard those delightful noises. She made him want it again but he didn’t know how to get her again. It was easy to justify it with her missteps but when she behaved, it made him feel rotten.

That, however, did not keep him from getting hard whenever she called him Mr. Barber or her eye lingered on him a little too long.

He didn’t know what to do, so that day, he stayed late at the courthouse. He called the office and told her to go, otherwise she would wait for him. If anything, his lesson had been effective in teaching her the importance of punctuality.

But even as he drove home, he kept thinking of her. He stopped at the corner of his street as the streetlights turned on and stared down at the dark shape of Laurie’s car. He took out his phone and dialed.

“Andy,” Laurie answered.

“Hey, I’m sorry I’m late, things… I’m just all tied up. I’ll be a while,” he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against his knuckles as he gripped the steering wheel.

“Fine,” she answered curtly, “see you in the morning?”

“Uh huh,” he sat up, they both knew it was an empty promise.

He headed back to the office. He searched through the old filing cabinet and pulled out the resume; hers. He read the address at the top. He hoped she hadn’t moved since then. He keyed it into his phone and got out the doors right before the cleaners locked up.

He drove to her building and sat outside. He watched the front and as less people came, he knew he had to act. He reached behind his seat and grabbed the empty paper bag from his lunch. He puffed it up and took off his suit jacket. He went to his trunk and took out the hoodie he kept for emergencies.

He ran up the steps of the building as a woman unlocked the door. He waved to her and called out, “hey,” she turned back as the door buzzed and she opened it, “you don’t mind holding that? I’ve been waiting for an answer for twenty minutes and… he waved the bag, “it’s getting cold.

“Oh, whatever,” she let him grab the door and he smiled, enlivened by his own act.

“Thanks,” he followed and watched her disappear onto the elevators.

He repeated the number in his head, 310, 310, 310…

He took the stairs up to the third floor and left the bag against a railing. He stepped into the hall and counted the doors to hers. He listened through the wood, he could hear her television. He tried the handle but it didn’t budge.

He exhaled and reached into his pocket for his keys. He still had the pocket knife from the days when Jacob was in the scouts. He remembered the trick his dad had taught him, one of many he couldn’t forget. He unfolded the nail file and jammed it in the slot.

He wiggled and the door opened as the handle almost cracked in his grip. He peeked around and pushed inside. He expected her to gasp, maybe even to scream, but she didn’t even sit up.

The deadbolt was loose, broken from his intrusion. He put the chain in place instead and approached the back of the couch. Again he braced himself for her shock. She was asleep. The coffee table was littered with a styrofoam container, a wine glass, and a half empty bottle.

He stopped and stared down at her. He tucked away the knife and took off the hoodie. He paced, hoping she’d wake up and scare him out of what he was thinking off. He had come this far, hadn’t he? He couldn’t stop now. He wouldn’t.

He unbuttoned his shirt and as he got to the last, he paused. He should go home but what was there but a silent and sleepless night beside his wife. He folded the shirt over the chair and took off his leather shoes. He rolled off his socks and stood straight. He unbuckled his belt and pushed his pants down with his boxers.

He was hard and hurting. He went to the couch and sidled between it and the coffee table. He grabbed the wine bottle and swigged. For courage. His nerves were jittering as he looked down at her dark blue tee. It was longer and reached halfway down her thighs. He only ever saw her in her blouses and her skirts, a bit clueless but always put together.

He touched her leg lightly and cautiously bent it. She breathed loudly but didn’t rouse. He straightened her leg and reached under her shirt. He tugged the panties down and untangled them from her feet, watching her face with each move.

He moved her leg over the edge of the couch and got on his knees beside the other. He tickled along the hem of her shirt and bent over her, holding himself up on the arm as he stroked his dick. She was going to wake up.

He didn’t care, he needed to fuck her. He pushed against her and slid his dick back until he found her entrance. He watched himself as he thrust into her in a single motion. Her body jolted and she grumbled. He smelled the wine on her breath but she stayed asleep.

He rocked his hips and hummed at the sensation of her walls around him. He dipped into her over and over, a smooth rhythm as it got easier with each tilt of his hip. He focused on his dick gliding in and out of her as he grasped the collar of her tee in his hand.

He sped up as he felt the ecstasy bubbling inside of him. His flesh slapped against her loudly and her leg dangled against his thigh. He closed his eyes and pushed his head back as he let out a long groan. So close, so close, and all he could focus on was his climax, even as he heard her surprised voice and felt her hands bounce of his chest.

“Andy!” she cried out.

He crashed into her and she shoved against him. Her legs bent around him and she wriggled helplessly. She sobbed and he bucked one last time as he came. He spilled into her as her walls squeezed him.

“Call me Mr. Barber,” he purred as he held himself completely inside of her.

He opened his eyes as he heard her sob. He looked down and stroked her cheek. She turned her head away from him and smacked away his hand.

“Why are you crying?” he asked and pushed against her until she whimpered.

☕☕☕

Please reblog and leave some feedback if you enjoyed.

[kingandfireheart]

Lucien Vanserra Sass Appreciation Post

For more serious Lucien content see my other posts:

What the fuck is happening in the Autumn Court series Part 1 (Eris) and Part 2 (Lady of the Autumn Court)

What stories are left: Lucien

When Lucien introduces himself:

"Lucien," my captor said quietly, the name echoing with a hint of a snarl. "Behave."

Lucien went rigid, but he hopped off the edge of the table and bowed deeply to me. "My apologies, lady." Another joke at my expense. "I'm Lucien. Courtier and emissary." He gestured to me with a flourish. "Your eyes are like stars, and your hair like burnished gold."

When Lucien is intrigued by Feyre:

"Well," Lucien said, his remaining russet eye fixed on me, "you don't look half as bad now. A relief, I suppose, since you're to live with us. Though the tunic isn't as pretty as a dress."

When Lucien wants to know if Feyre thinks he's hot:

"Thank you for the meal," I said. It was all I could think of. "Won't you stay for wine?" Lucien said with sweet venom from where he lounged in his seat. I braced my hands on my chair to rise. "I'm tired. I'd like to sleep." "It's been a few decades since I last saw one of you," Lucien drawled, "but you humans never change, so I don't think I'm wrong in asking why you find our company to be so unpleasant, when surely the men back home aren't much to look at." At the other end of the table, Tamlin gave his emissary a long, warning look. Lucien ignored it. "You're High Fae," I said tightly. "I'd ask why you'd even bother inviting me here at all-or dining with me." Fool-I really should have been killed ten times over already. Lucien said, "True. But indulge me: you're a human woman, and yet you'd rather eat hot coals than sit here longer than necessary. Ignoring this"-he waved a hand at the metal eye and brutal scar on his face-"surely we're not so miserable to look at."

When Feyre leaves their first dinner together:

He gave a distant nod and motioned for me to leave. Dismissed. Like the lowly human I was. Lucien propped his chin on a fist and gave me a lazy half smile. Enough. I got to my feet and backed toward the door. Putting my back to them would have been like walking away from a wolf, sparing my life or no. They said nothing when I slipped out the door. A moment later, Lucien's barking laugh echoed into the halls, followed by a sharp, vicious growl that shut him up.

When Lucien notices Feyre checking him out:

Lucien paused, and I found him smirking at me, making the scar even more brutal. "Were you admiring my sword, or just contemplating killing me, Feyre?"

When Lucien is a sarcastic motherfucker:

“So is this what you do with your lives? Spare humans from the Treaty and have fine meals?” I gave a pointed glance toward Tamlin’s baldric, the warrior’s clothes, Lucien’s sword. Lucien smirked. “We also dance with the spirits under the full moon and snatch human babes from their cradles to replace them with changelings–”

When Lucien describes Amaratha perfectly:

"What happened to the magic to make it act that way?" Lucien let out a harsh laugh. "Something was sent from the shit-holes of Hell," he said, then glanced around and swore. "I shouldn't have said that. If word got back to her-"

When they run into the Boggee:

"I heard its voice in my head. It told me to look." Lucien rolled his shoulders. "Well, thank the Cauldron that you didn't. Cleaning up that mess would have ruined the rest of my day." He gave me a wan smile. I didn't return it.

When he gives Feyre a title:

"Are you a warrior, though?" Would you be able to kill me if it ever came to that? Lucien huffed a laugh. "Not as good as Tam, but I know how to handle my weapons." He patted the hilt of his sword. "Would you like me to teach you how to wield a blade, or do you already know how, oh mighty mortal huntress?

When Lucien just needs someone to spar with:

“Do you ever stop being so serious and dull?" "Do you ever stop being such a prick?" I snapped back. Dead—really, truly, I should have been dead for that. But Lucien grinned at me. "Much better.

When Lucien and Feyre spend quality time together:

Over the next three days, I found myself joining Lucien on Andras's old patrol while Tamlin hunted the grounds for the Bogge, unseen by us. Despite being an occasional bastard, Lucien didn't seem to mind my company, and he did most of the talking, which was fine; it left me to brood over the consequences of firing a single arrow. An arrow. I never fired a single one during those three days we rode along the border. That very morning I'd spied a red doe in a glen and aimed out of instinct, my arrow poised to fly right into her eye as Lucien sneered that she was not a faerie, at least. But I'd stared at her-fat and healthy and content-and then slackened the bow, replaced the arrow in my quiver, and let the doe wander on.

When Lucien diagnoses Faerie problems perfectly:

A brush of ice slithered across my nape. "He would be that brutal?" Lucien studied the wine in his goblet. "You don't hold on to power by being everyone's friend. And among the faeries, lesser and High Fae alike, a firm hand is needed. We're too powerful, and too bored with immortality, to be checked by anything else."

When Lucien is told to Back Off, so he exacts his revenge:

Lucien's russet eye was bright, though the smile he gave me didn't meet it. The face of Tamlin's emissary-more court-trained and calculating than I'd seen him yet. "I'm unavailable today," he said. He jerked his chin to Tamlin. "He'll go with you." Tamlin shot his friend a look of disdain that he took few pains to hide. His usual baldric was armed with more knives than I'd seen before, and their ornate metal handles glinted as he turned to me, his shoulders tight. "Whenever you want to go, just say so." The claws of his free hand slipped back under his skin. No. I almost said it aloud as I turned pleading eyes to Lucien. Lucien merely patted my shoulder as he passed by. "Perhaps tomorrow, human."

When Lucien hides:

"I had to go sort out some hotheads on the northern border-official emissary business," he said, setting down the hunting knife he'd been cleaning, a long, vicious blade. "I got back in time to hear your little spat with Tam, and decided I was safer up here. I'm glad to hear your human heart has warmed to me, though. At least I'm not on the top of your killing list."

When Lucien and Feyre become friends after he tells her how to trap a Suriel:

Another riddle-and another bit of information. I said, "It's a good thing that while you have superior hearing, I possess superior abilities to keep my mouth shut." He snorted as I took the knife from the table and turned to procure the bow from my room. "I think I'm starting to like you-for a murdering human."

When Lucien is day drinking and living his best life:

“Would you like me to grovel with gratitude for bringing me here, High Lord?" "Ah. The Suriel told you nothing important, did it?" That smile of his sparked something bold in my chest. "He also said that you liked being brushed, and if I'm a clever girl, I might train you with treats." Tamlin tipped his head to the sky and roared with laughter. Despite myself, I let out a quiet laugh. "I might die of surprise," Lucien said behind me. "You made a joke, Feyre." I turned to look at him with a cool smile. "You don't want to know what the Suriel said about you." I flicked my brows up, and Lucien lifted his hands in defeat. "I'd pay good money to hear what the Suriel thinks of Lucien," Tamlin said. A cork popped, followed by the sounds of Lucien chugging the bottle's contents and chuckling with a muttered, "Brushed.”

When Lucien is incredibly casual for a guy going to an orgy:

What?”

Lucien laughed. “Yes—all those female faeries around you were females for Tamlin to pick. It’s an honor to be chosen, but it’s his instincts that select her.”

“But you were there—and other male faeries.” My face burned so hot that I began sweating. That was why those three horrible faeries had been there—and they’d thought that just by my presence, I was happy to comply with their plans.

“Ah.” Lucien chuckled. “Well, Tam’s not the only one who gets to perform the rite tonight. Once he makes his choice, we’re free to mingle. Though it’s not the Great Rite, our own dalliances tonight will help the land, too.

When Lucien is the mom friend:

"You look . . . refreshed," Lucien observed with a glance at Tamlin. I shrugged. "Sleep well?" "Like a babe." I smiled as him and took another bite of food, and felt Lucien's eyes travel inexorably to my neck. "What is that bruise?" Lucien demanded. I pointed my fork to Tamlin. "Ask him, he did it." Lucien looked from Tamlin to me and then back again. "Why does Feyre have a bruise on her neck from you?" he asked with no small amount of amusement.

When Lucien loves drama:

"Accountable?" I sputtered, placing my hands flat on the table. "You cornered me in the hall like a wolf with a rabbit!" Lucien propped an arm on the table and covered his mouth with his hand, his russet eye bright. "While I might not have been myself, Lucien and I both told you to stay in your room," Tamlin said, so calmly that I wanted to rip out my hair. I couldn't help it. Didn't even try to fight the red-hot temper that razed my senses. "Faerie pig!" I yelled, and Lucien howled, almost tipping back in his chair. At the sight of Tamlin's growing smile, I left.

When Lucien bolts:

“I had to keep my hands clenched at my sides to avoid wiping my sweaty palms on the skirts of my gown as I reached the dining room, and immediately contemplated bolting upstairs and changing into a tunic and pants. But I knew they’d already heard me, or smelled me, or used whatever heightened senses they had to detect my presence, and since fleeing would only make it worse, I found it in myself to push open the double doors.

Whatever discussion Tamlin and Lucien had been having stopped, and I tried not to look at their wide eyes as I strode to my usual place at the end of the table.

“Well, I’m late for something incredibly important,” Lucien said, and before I could call him on his outright lie or beg him to stay, the fox-masked faerie vanished.

When Feyre goes to a party:

"Cauldron boil me," Lucien whistled as I came down the stairs. "She looks positively Fae." ...

I squared my shoulders, disinclined to let him see how much his words or voice or sheer well-being impacted me. Not yet. "I'm surprised I'm even allowed to participate tonight." "Unfortunately for you and your neck," Lucien countered, "tonight's just a party." "Do you lie awake at night to come up with all your witty replies for the following day?" Lucien winked at me, and Tamlin laughed and offered me his arm. "He's right,"....

"So there's singing and dancing and excessive drinking," Lucien chimed in, falling into step beside me. "And dallying," he added with a wicked grin.

When Lucien plays a prank:

"I also remember you telling me how witchberries were harmless, and the next thing I knew, I was half-delirious and falling all over myself," I said, recalling the afternoon from a few weeks ago. I'd had hallucinations for hours afterward, and Lucien had laughed himself sick-enough so that Tamlin had chucked him into the reflection pool...."

When Feyre gets drunk of Faerie Wine:

“Tam would gut me if he caught you drinking that.”

“Always looking after your best interests,” I said, and pointedly chugged the contents of the glass. It was like a million fireworks exploding inside me, filling my veins with starlight. I laughed aloud, and Lucien groaned.

“Human fool,” he hissed.

But his glamour had been ripped away. His auburn hair burned like hot metal, and his russet eye smoldered like a bottomless forge. That was what I would capture next.

“I’m going to paint you,” I said, and giggled—actually giggled—as the words popped out.

"Cauldron boil and fry me,” he muttered, and I laughed again.”

When Lucien is hungover and third-wheeling:

Lucien kept rubbing at his temples as he ate, unusually silent, and I hid my smile as I asked him, “And where were you last night?” Lucien’s metal eye narrowed on me. “I’ll have you know that while you two were dancing with the spirits, I was stuck on border patrol.” Tamlin gave a pointed cough, and Lucien added, “With some company.” He gave me a sly grin. “Rumor has it you two didn’t come back until after dawn.” I glanced at Tamlin, biting my lip. I’d practically floated into my bedroom that morning. But Tamlin’s gaze now roved my face as if searching for any tinge of regret, of fear. Ridiculous. “You bit my neck on Fire Night,” I said under my breath. “If I can face you after that, a few kisses are nothing.” He braced his forearms on the table as he leaned closer to me. “Nothing?” His eyes flicked to my lips. Lucien shifted in his seat, muttering to the Cauldron to spare him, but I ignored him. “Nothing,” I repeated a bit distantly, watching Tamlin’s mouth move, so keenly aware of every movement he made, resenting the table between us. I could almost feel the warmth of his breath. “Are you sure?” he murmured, intent and hungry enough that I was glad I was sitting. He could have had me right there, on top of that table. I wanted his broad hands running over my bare skin, wanted his teeth scraping against my neck, wanted his mouth all over me. “I’m trying to eat,” Lucien said.”

When Lucien drops one of the best lines in the book:

"I see," I lied, not quite seeing at all. Lucien chuckled, sensing it, and I glared sidelong at him. "You've been noticeably absent again." He used the dagger to clean his nails. "I've been busy. So have you, I take it." "What's that supposed to mean?" I demanded. "If I offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss, too?"

When Lucien doesn't know what is coming in the future:

Downstairs, Lucien snorted at the sight of me. "Those clothes are enough to convince me I never want to enter the human realm." "I'm not sure the human realm would know what to do with you," I said. Lucien's smile was edged, his shoulders tight as he gave a sharp look behind me to where Tam was waiting in front of a gilded carriage. When he turned back, that metal eye narrowed. "I thought you were smarter than this."

When Lucien admires Feyre's attitude:

“Don’t you understand what Rhys is?” “I do!” I barked, then sighed. “I do,” I repeated, and glared at the eye in my palm. “It’s done with. So you needn’t hold to whatever oath you swore to Tamlin to protect me—or feel like you owe me anything for saving you from Amarantha. I would have done it just to wipe the smirk off your brothers’ faces.” Lucien clicked his tongue, but his remaining russet eye shone. “I’m glad to see you didn’t sell your lively human spirit or stubbornness to Rhys.”

When Lucien is a fashionista:

Lucien had gifted both to me—the dagger during the months before Amarantha, the belt in the weeks after her downfall, when I’d carried the dagger, along with many others, everywhere I went. You might as well look good if you’re going to arm yourself to the teeth, he’d said.

When game recognize game

“Cursebreaker,” some murmured. “Blessed,” others whispered.

I made a show of looking surprised—surprised and yet accepting of the Cauldron’s choice. Tamlin’s face was taut with shock, the Hybern royals’ nothing short of baffled.

But I turned to Lucien, my light radiating so brightly that it bounced off his metal eye. A friend beseeching another for help. I reached a hand toward him.

Beyond us, I could feel Ianthe scrambling to regain control, to find some way to spin it.

Perhaps Lucien could, too. For he took my hand, and then knelt upon one knee in the grass, pressing my fingers to his brow.

When Lucien is scared of Amren:

“I think Amren would probably deny that she feels any affection for us—”

“Amren is a bedtime story they told us as younglings to make us behave. Amren was who would drink my blood and carry me to hell if I acted out of line. And yet there she was, acting more like a cranky old aunt than anything.”

“We don’t—we don’t enforce protocol and rank here.”

“Obviously. Rhys lives in a town house, by the Cauldron.” He waved an arm to encompass the city.

When Lucien is a little murderous:

“You’re working with that prick,” Cassian cut in, whatever catching-up now over, apparently. He moved to Mor’s side, a hand on her back. He shook his head at Azriel and Rhys, disgust curling his lip. “You should have spiked Eris’s fucking head to the front gates.”

Azriel only watched them with that icy indifference. But Lucien crossed his arms, leaning against the back of the couch. “I have to agree with Cassian. Eris is a snake.”

When Lucien volunteers to go on a quest:

“You will be going into the human territory,” Rhys warned. “I can’t spare a force to guard you—”

“I don’t need one. I travel faster on my own.” His chin lifted. “I will find her. And if there’s an army to bring back, or at least some way for her own story to sway the human forces … I’ll find a way to do that, too.”

My friends glanced to each other. Mor said, “It will be—very dangerous.”

A half smile curved Lucien’s mouth. “Good. It’d be boring otherwise.

When Lucien makes a friend

“Not for long—not if Vassa has anything to do with it.”

“You sound like an acolyte.”

Lucien blushed, glancing at Elain. “She’s got a foul temper and a fouler mouth.” He cut me a wry look. “You’ll get along just fine.”

[arcadejohn127-9]

Hello! :) Is it ok if i request the brothers (and the undateables if possible 👉🏻👈🏻) with a teenage MC who's not afraid to call them out whenever they do something stupid/harmful/immoral and has very high morals in general? Like, when Lucifer tried to kill Luke they were furious cause he wanted to kill a child (actually 2 but..), or (this is based the first chat with him after ch.16) when Belphie goes "come on, that's mean!1! >:(" They reply with, "hahah! Wanna know what else is mean?(◠‿◕) The fact that you literally killed me for EXISTING, and when you found out that i was your sister's descendant you were all buddy-buddy with me. You're an hypochrite(Is that how you say it??) And you're a shitty person in general, you killed a CHILD. So i think it's very clear who's the mean one here." (GSJSGSJ I'M SO SORRY THAT IT'S SO LONG AND SASSY-) or they go full on rant about CONSENT with Simeon for the angel event. They also don't really accept opinions about their morals, like:

Diavolo: *lectures them about how humans and demons are different and how things that are clearly wrong in the human world are not in the Devildom*

MC: hm... That's a very well-elaborated and and valid arguement, but something doesn't feel right so i'm gonna just stick with my previously elaborated opinion!(✿^‿^) (wich translates into "i think your opinion is bullshit but i can't exactly tell you that so i'm just gonna be polite about it.")

I think they'd be embarassed being called out by someone who's literally an infant compared to them GSJSGSJ

you can ignore it if too similar to the sassy MC! ^^ i'm sorry it's so long 🥺

While this is very similar to my previous ask, I can do something for you! Hope I was able to put your prompt into proper essence, whilst writing this I got quite heated myself as I started to think how insane it must be for MC In the game

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

"I'm tired." You suddenly barked out, everyone turned their attention to you.

There was a big meeting including the student counsel and the exchange students. You were sitting at the end of the table; every second of noise was like a hammer to your self control. Your anger slowly rising higher and higher until it felt like you were suffocating in it. Satan was the first to notice; sensing the sin like it was a strong disgusting smell.

"What...? Are you really interrupting the meeting just to say you're tired?" Lucifer snarled at you.

"Oh, of course Lucifer is the one to make a rude comment, what? Annoyed I'm making my feelings known?!"

None of them understood what the sudden uproar was. All of them staring at you with wide surprised eyes. You were often one for remarks and expressing your thoughts but this was different; you've snapped. The hatred and anger in your eyes were uncomfortable. They made you look like a completely different person.

"What is the meaning of this? You're being unnecessarily angry-"

"I'M UNNECESSARILY ANGRY?! Oh ho ho~ you tried to kill Luke for being in the house! A LITERAL CHILD!"

Lucifer was stunned; freezing under your intense glare. Everyone's eyes darting over to his figure. He wanted to say more, he wanted to make you shut up. You could understand that look on his face all too well; you exactly what he wanted to say to you. But no, he couldn't possibly do it Infront of Lord Diavolo.

Your anger was only fueled more as you stood up from your seat.

"All of you are a threat! I'm a teenager, DAMNIT! How many times have I had my life put at risk because of one of you or have been threatened to be murdered or harmed - the only reason you didn't do it because you didn't want to cause issues with Diavolo or wanted me for your personal gain!"

"Do you know how meaningless that can make a person feel?! All of you are rotten, horrible beings!"

They all shared a shameful and uncomfortable look; the exchange students weren't sure if they were supposed to be in this conversation. Seeing as the focus was set on the brothers actions. Barbatos tried to warn something like this would happen but no one would take his words seriously. They expected something alot less intense.

"Come on, don't be mean-" Belphie tried to speak, keeping his tone playful as if believing that would fix it.

"You know what's mean, Belphegor? Killing a defenseless child for simply existing and then never apologizing - mind you, NO ONE HERE HAS EVER APOLOGIZED FOR THREATENING ME OR TRYING TO KILL ME - and then having the AUDACITY to be buddy buddy with me after finding out I'm related to your sister."

All the brothers expect Satan winced at your words. Their sister being a sensative topic and to hear you speak of it with such venom in your voice. They weren't sure what to do, some wanted to yell at you, others wanted to leave. But no one did anything. It felt as if they were all frozen.

Was this your magic? Was this harsh feeling of someone stepping on their chest coming from their pacts with you?

But that was just the brothers; the others were feeling a similar discomfort but they knew if they dared tried to leave it would end in chaos.

"But no, I'm mean,I'm the big meanie here who isn't being sweet and forgiving over being put into continuous danger, I'm SO sorry."

You forced a tight sarcastic smile, pretending to be upset.

"Now, let's all calm down, you have to understand - Demons and humans they just don't work the same, what is immoral to you won't be the same here, this is very different kind of society, you came here to be taught and learn to understand these other realms you were unaware of-"

It was now Diavolos turn to be utterly destroyed.

"Everything about that made me feel disgusted, so you're fine with all sorts of immoral acts? That's what you're telling me?"

The demon prince caught onto what you're implying and realized what his words meant, he quickly tried to fix his mistake but you weren't having it. Speaking over him, raising your voice as much as you could to drown him out.

"How about YOU understand MY society and my world's rules!"

"Here's the thing, your lordship, I didn't consent to be here, I didn't agree to be whisked off from my normal life and away from everything I've known, you forced me here and expected me to just deal with it - Solomon knows more about this program than me!"

"You're right, there should of been better preparation but you have to understand the differences between-"

It seems no one has learned. Your head snapped towards the older angel. You began to slowly trudge over to him.

"I'm so glad you decided to speak up, Simeon, because talking about consent, did you even know what those bangles would do to the brothers??? Did you just think it would be all fun and games to just make them angelic again despite knowing their history? None of them were okay about it and you just went ahead with it anyway - THEY WERE PRACTICALLY BRAINWASHED!"

Everyone in the room felt a sharp whiplash from your words. From one moment being furious and despising the brothers to now scolding someone who's harmed them.

"I didn't know it would be like that-!" He truely didn't, he felt awful about what they did.

"And yet you didn't seem to be in a rush to do anything about it, to me you seem to rather enjoy seeing them like that."

He couldn't say anything. He couldn't even try. Simeon just let his head drop in shame, knowing your words were true.

"Everyone here expect Solomon and Luke are innocent - Barbatos you're on thin fucking ice."

You snarled, pointing over to the butler. He didn't flinch under your gaze. Just staying composed and beside his master.

"I'm out of here." You declares, spinning on your heel and stormed out.

Luke suddenly jumped off his seat; tears streaming down his face and rushed after you. Calling out for you as he ignored Simeon's pleas.

The room was silent as everyone mewled over your words. Stunned they all got cussed out by a mere teenager and all of them knew; you were right.

[riotwritesthings]

I'll cave in (whenever you see fit)

A BIG BIG HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!! to @warmachinesocks​

thanks for being you that’s big sexie of you. Here’s a thing.

Winteriron, M, 5k - Vampire!Bucky, human!Tony, an abduction, a rescue, and some dry humping

Bucky knows better than to get involved with a mortal, and he pays the price when Hydra kidnaps his boyfriend. Tony is human, he's questionably in distress, and he is Handling It. (minor violence, surprisingly soft all things considered.)

~~~

Bucky should have known this would happen. Fuck, he should have known.

An immortal should never get involved with a human, that’s rule fucking one because it never ends well for anyone.

Especially not for the human.

But he’s selfish, so fucking selfish, and the first time Tony smiled up at him, open and happy, Bucky knew he was doomed.

He knows something is wrong the second pushes the door open to find the basement apartment completely dark. The only light is the weak streetlight pouring in through the one tiny window, near the ceiling in the kitchen.

Even in the dark, Bucky can easily tell that the place has been trashed, though it is only a subtle difference from the organized chaos Tony usually keeps his workspace in.

The apartment is too quiet, too still, and he knows instantly.

Bucky fucked up. Badly.

Because it had been entirely too easy to get used to the warmth of Tony’s smile, of his skin, the way he so easily made a space for Bucky in his life.

It had been so easy to let himself get comfortable in Tony’s weird basement apartment that’s half home and half machine shop, perfectly Tony. The way the apartment is brightly lit with industrial lights at all hours of the day and night so Tony can see whatever brilliant new invention he’s working on next.

Bucky never had a chance at not getting attached, because in all his years he’s never met anyone like Tony.

Tony is perfect, and brilliant, left with nothing after his father's company was stolen out from under him and Tony just built himself a new life, tries to help wherever he can. He keeps erratic hours and never minds that Bucky comes and goes at all hours of the night, that Bucky can't go out in the daylight.

Bucky hasn’t been in the sun in nearly a thousand years, but with Tony in his arms, so warm and bright and alive, he could almost remember what it felt like.

And now Tony has been taken.

Bucky knew who was responsible even before he found the symbol burned into the wall. It’s Hydra. Of course it is, and those bastards won’t care that he’s human, that he never should have been involved in any of this, all they’ll care about is hurting Bucky as much as they can.

And they picked exactly the right target.

Hydra has been after him for nearly as long as Bucky has been not-alive, determined to wipe out all vampires at any cost. Even once the war was over, even after all the other hunter’s guilds signed the peace treaty, Hydra refused to give up their mission and for some reason they’ve taken a personal vendetta against Bucky. Probably because he’s evaded them so many times.

And now they have Tony.

The thing is that Bucky hasn't really known Tony that long, not even by human standards, but he is completely, irretrievably in love. He’s ready to burn the whole world down to get Tony back, even if Tony never forgives him for it.

But he’s not going to be able to find where Tony is being held, not on his own. Not in time.

The downside to immortal friends though, is that Bucky hasn’t actually seen any of them in years, because what’s a couple decades between centuries old beings? Steve is back in Europe for a while, working on his painting, and Bucky hasn’t seen Natalia in nearly fifty years now, which means she probably won’t turn back up for another fifty.

There is one more option, Bucky is just less than thrilled about it.

It’s no secret that the other hunter’s guilds don’t approve of Hydra’s methods, the amount of collateral damage they leave in their wake. The lengths they’re willing to go to.

Like kidnapping innocent humans.

It’s definitely still a stretch to hope they’ll be willing to help someone like Bucky find Hydra, but he has to try.

And he does have one idea of where to start.

Bucky and Sam don’t like each other very much, and that’s been the standing opinion for the last decade. Which for a hunter and vampire, is basically a lifelong friendship.

It’s at least enough that Bucky can show up at Sam’s door without immediately getting himself staked.

The door flies open and Bucky blinks, because it never fails to surprise him how old Sam has gotten. Every time, Bucky is a little bit expecting Sam-as-he-met-him, still a kid, on his first hunt and clearly terrified but so determined to save the world, so idealistic. And now he’s so jaded, older and tired and it’s just one more reminder of just how badly Bucky has fucked up.

Tony is going to go cold and tired and it will be all Bucky’s fault.

“You’re here about Hydra,” Sam says flatly, no preamble, and at least that answers Bucky’s question about whether or not Sam even knows that Hydra is setting up camp in his territory.

"Tell me where they are," Bucky demands, resisting the urge to flash his fangs just yet because he's not here to threaten answers out of anyone. Not unless he has to.

Although he doesn't find it encouraging that Sam doesn't answer, just clenches his jaw and swings the door open a little wider, letting Bucky see that the extra heartbeat he hears belongs to Clint. Standing in the hallway with a crossbow in hand.

Bucky lets his lip curl up a little, because apparently this is going to be that kind of conversation.

“What do they have against you, anyways?" Clint asks conversationally, like he's not holding a loaded weapon with an expression that says he'd really like to use it. "Seems very personal at this point."

“What, you want the entire list?” Bucky snaps and finds that he is more than willing to give the whole sordid story if that's what it takes.

But he doesn't have the time for that, Tony doesn't have the time.

Instead he grits his teeth and demands “Tell me where they would take a human hostage."

It has the desired effect, both of the hunters tense and Clint’s eyes go wide, and maybe now they’ll realize that this isn’t about him.

The only thing that matters is Tony, and Bucky doesn’t even care that he’s not just admitting to that weakness, he’s basically screaming it from the rooftops by telling them. Doesn’t care that Sam’s eyes narrow in painful understanding.

“We can’t tell you that,” Sam says and he really does sound regretful, but Bucky snarls because that is not what he wants to hear. “Even if we don’t agree with what they’ve done, they’re still—“

“If you don’t tell me, I will kill you,” Bucky interrupts, his voice low and harsh and it’s gratifying to hear the spike in heart rates, it means he still has a chance of convincing them, whether by threat or force.

“Barnes—“ Sam tries to interrupt, but Bucky doesn’t have time for this.

“And then I’ll find out where he is anyways,” Bucky promises, “the only thing you’ll accomplish is slowing me down.”

“You wouldn’t,” Clint says, but he doesn’t sound sure and his grip on the crossbow is white-knuckled, “you’ll start a war you can never come back from.”

“Try me,” Bucky hisses, flashes his teeth and lets his eyes flare. He wants them to know how deadly serious he is.

Clint raises his crossbow, but Sam sighs.

“In the old warehouse district,” Sam says, shoulders tight with anger and fear, “on the far west edge of the city.”

“You’ll regret this,” Clint calls after him as he stalks away, but Bucky knows that he won’t.

Not if he can just get to Tony in time. Nothing matters beyond making sure his selfishness doesn’t get Tony killed. He doesn’t care what it costs, Bucky is more than willing to leave everything and go on the run again, all he cares about is making sure Tony is alive to hate him.

Sam’s information is good, so at least Bucky won’t have to go back when he’s done here.

He’s been dealing with Hydra for centuries now, and Bucky can easily identify the abandoned factory as a Hydra base. It’s the new bars over the windows, the reinforced doors, the impression of movement just below the surface of the dilapidated building.

He only has a couple hours before the sun comes up, and then he’ll be trapped in the building with who knows how many Hydra hunters. He has to find Tony and get out as quickly as possible.

He has to make sure that at least gets Tony out.

Hydra are still setting up their bases more or less the same way they always have, the same holes in security, and getting into the building is easy. Finding the makeshift holding cells is even easier, on the south-most side of the building, but the problem is that all of the cells are empty.

The entire wing of the factory seems to be empty and there’s fresh blood splattered across the walls and the floor, still wet and shining in the fluorescent lights.

The building is too filled with the smell of mold and decay for him to tell whose blood it is, for him to have a hope of picking out the familiar sweet tang that means Tony.

He can hear the sounds of commotion in the distance, what sounds like screams and gunshots further into the factory. It’s the same direction the trail of spilled blood is leading, and Bucky grits his teeth as he follows it.

The base is nearly deserted. Bucky only sees a couple hunters as he follows the sounds of the fight. Everyone he runs into is scrambling for weapons or the exits, and they don’t seem to be expecting him at all. They seem like they’re afraid of something else entirely, like they’re trying to escape.

Bucky doesn’t let them.

They took Tony, and he doesn’t even want to let himself imagine what they’ve done to him. On the slim chance he manages to get Tony out of here, Bucky can’t have any of them going after him again.

He has to make sure they never even think about going after Tony again.

The sounds of screams get louder as he moves into the heart of the warehouse, up the stairs to the offices. The blood is thicker here, splattered across the walls and the floors with evidence of a struggle. Smeared like someone has been dragged down the long hallway kicking and fighting.

With every empty room and bloody handprint he passes his rage grows, and by the time Bucky reaches the last door all he can see is red.

He slams in the door so hard that it splinters apart, chunks of cheap plywood flying everywhere. There’s a smell in the air like acrid smoke, like melting electronics and fire and blood, nearly overwhelming.

Bodies litter the room, dead and dying, but all he sees is Tony.

Bucky has spent the last four hours trying not to let himself imagine all sorts of horrible things. Tony hurt, Tony dead, bleeding, tortured, screaming. Rightfully cursing Bucky for getting him into this mess, rightfully wishing they'd never met.

He’s not prepared for what he actually finds.

Tony is alive, bloodied and bruised but so vibrantly alive, a knife in his hand and a vicious smile on his face as he plunges it into the chest of a Hydra hunter.

Bucky freezes uselessly in the doorway, watching in awe as Tony rips the knife free again, paying no mind to the spray of blood as he spins on his heel. Buries his blade in the gut of someone trying to creep up behind him.

And all at once it’s over.

The room goes still as the last hunter falls with Tony’s knife in his neck, Tony’s knees against his chest baring him down to the ground.

Bucky doesn’t even need to breathe, but still he finds himself choking on air as he watches Tony slowly right himself again, looking over all the destruction he’s caused.

Then Tony looks up, catches sight of him, and the expression on his face shifts from cold and vicious to warm and happy in an instant. Bucky’s cold dead heart lurches in his chest.

“Hey sweetheart, about time you got here,” Tony says, tossing him a jaunty wave with the knife still in hand.

Bucky crosses the room almost in a daze, headless of the blood that slicks the floor and the bodies he has to step over. All he can see is Tony and as soon as he’s close enough he traces his fingers reverently along the line of Tony’s jaw, ghosting over the dark bruise starting to form.

“Are you okay?” Tony asks, nonsensically, leaning into Bucky’s hands on him like Bucky isn’t the most dangerous thing in the room.

And hell maybe he’s not, Bucky certainly doesn’t feel dangerous. Not faced with Tony’s bright eyes and warm skin.

He feels weak, feels completely undone.

Bucky laughs, soft and strangled, and he hasn’t been cold in centuries but his hands are shaking as he cups Tony’s face in his palms.

“No,” he chokes out around another laugh, because he’s not okay, not anywhere close. “I thought- I didn’t know if you were- Tony--”

“Hey, hey,” Tony cuts him off, pulling him in closer and tucking Bucky’s face down into the curve of his neck. Where Bucky can hear the rapid thump of his heart, smell the adrenaline and the sweat that clings to his skin beneath all the blood.

And oh god there’s so much blood, covering Tony’s skin and his clothes and the room around them. Bucky can barely smell Tony through it and he tucks his face a little harder into the hollow of Tony’s throat.

“I’m okay,” Tony promises, fingers of one hand pressing into Bucky’s hair, his other hand resting on Bucky’s side and still wrapped tightly around the knife. Still prepared, and Bucky has never loved him more.

He drags his tongue up the line of Tony’s neck, through smears and splatters of blood. It’s almost a disappointment, definitely a thrill, that none of it is Tony’s.

“What did you- how did you even-“ Bucky keeps interrupting himself, can’t get a full thought out. He’s too concerned with lifting his head and pressing his lips to every inch of Tony’s perfect, unharmed face.

“I keep telling you, I’m a bad bitch,” Tony says, that beautiful smug grin on his face and Bucky just has to taste it.

Tony melts into it so easily when Bucky kisses him, his hands demanding but so gentle, like the room around them isn’t full of carnage. Like Tony isn’t the one who put it there, like he doesn’t have a care in the world except letting Bucky lick into his mouth, taste the adrenaline and determination and life straight from his lips.

Bucky has never tasted anything like it, has never met anyone like Tony, and he could have lost this.

He has to get closer, closer. He doesn’t even realize he’s backing Tony across the room until the back of Tony’s thighs hit a metal table, and Bucky just keeps pushing. Until the table clangs against the wall, until Tony is bent backwards over the surface.

Bucky follows him down, breathing him in, pressing between Tony’s thighs and still trying to get closer.

The table clatters, covered in knives and crossbows and stakes and Bucky doesn’t give a fuck about any of that. It doesn’t matter how much noise he makes now, Tony is the only living person in the warehouse, the only heartbeat on this rundown block. The only thing Bucky needs to worry about.

He certainly doesn’t give a fuck about the bodies that still litter the floor except that none of them are Tony, thatTony put them there.

Bucky doesn’t care about the bridges he’s burned, has never cared less about the impending sunrise. All that matters is Tony.

And Tony isn’t pushing him away, isn’t complaining. He just hooks one leg over Bucky’s hip and arches up against him, finally dropping his knife to drag both palms up Bucky’s back, pulling him in closer.

Tony is so warm beneath him, wrapped around him, always pulling Bucky in when he should be pushing him away.

“Fuck,” Tony sighs against his lips, one hand in Bucky’s hair again. Tony’s legs tighten around his waist, entire body rolling against Bucky’s, his voice shaking slightly as he says “I was so worried about you.”

Bucky wants to laugh again, because that’s soTony, worrying about Bucky while abducted and fighting for his life. Caring about Bucky in the first place when he should have run, should still be running, should leave Bucky far behind and never think about him again.

Nevermind that the idea has pain lancing through Bucky’s chest like he didn’t even think was possible anymore. He’d take the pain of losing Tony happily if he knew it meant Tony would be safe.

He will walk away, once they get out of here, that’s what Bucky tells himself. He just has to breathe Tony in this one last time and then he’ll walk away.

If Tony will let him. Which doesn’t seem likely, so far Tony has seemed determined to stay by Bucky’s side no matter what, and Bucky can never deny him anything.

The warehouse might be empty now but there’s no telling how long it’ll be before more hunters show up, and they should be getting out of here, Bucky knows that. But he can’t tear himself away from Tony’s warmth, from Tony’s hands moving over him.

Bucky can’t stop thinking that he could have lost this. That if he hadn’t found Tony alive and well Bucky would have made an even bigger mess. There would be no end to the carnage.

When he pulls away from the kiss Tony is panting raggedly and if Bucky had the spare brain power he’d feel bad about that but oh, he really doesn’t right now. Doesn’t care about anything but pressing his lips to Tony’s blood-splattered cheek swearing “I never would have stopped looking for you, never.”

“I know,” Tony promises, still trying to pull Bucky back into another kiss despite the way his words come out weak and breathy, his chest heaving against Bucky’s and his heart thundering.

So alive, alive, alive.

“I’d have done anything to get you back,” Bucky growls, dragging one hand down Tony’s side to his hip, digging his fingers in and shifting them until he can feel the hot brand of Tony’s cock against his hip.

“Fuck!” Tony gasps and the scent of his adrenaline spikes higher, turns sweet and warm as his fingers tighten in Bucky’s hair. “I know, I know, c’mon honey--”

And Bucky can’t say no to that, can never deny Tony anything.

Still, even as he lets Tony haul his face up again Bucky can’t stop the words from spilling out, his voice an awful snarl as he says “and if they’d hurt you--”

It’s probably for the best that Tony slams their lips together again and cuts him off, he doesn’t need to know all the monstrous things Bucky would do in his name. Much better to just let Tony kiss him, let Tony flick his warm tongue over Bucky’s blood smeared lips and the tips of his fangs, like he doesn’t have a fear in the world.

Tony’s heart rate kicks up harder, his next inhale weak and ragged against Bucky’s lips and Bucky forces himself to pull away. He lets Tony catch his breath and moves on to biting his way along Tony’s jaw, not enough to break the skin, just enough to get the taste of his skin on Bucky’s lips.

He tastes like sweat and arousal and need, so much love pouring off of him that Bucky can practically taste it. He’ll never get enough of it, doesn’t ever think he’ll stop being caught off guard by it.

“I told you,” Tony pants out when he finally gets his breath back and for a second Bucky doesn’t even know what he’s talking about, too distracted with the wet drag of Tony’s lips over his cheek. “You don’t have to worry about me,” Tony says, one of his hands landing on Bucky’s ass to pull him in closer, harder, arching up into the demanding roll of Bucky’s hips as he moans out “‘m not gonna let anything happen to you either.”

Bucky laughs raggedly, grits his teeth, presses his face into the curve of Tony’s throat and the craziest part is that Bucky believes him. As crazy as it is he has no problem believing that Tony is equally ready to burn the world down. That the bloodbath around them is only the start of what Tony would have done.

The heat building between them is so intense that even Bucky feels warm, feels like he’s burning. Like he’s absorbing all that wonderful warmth and still Tony has so much to give, never runs out of it, never pushes him away.

Bucky growls, lifts his head to make it easier to resist the urge to sink his teeth in and instead rolls his hips against Tony’s, swallows Tony’s shaking moan with another fierce kiss. “You’re so- fuck, gorgeous, the way you looked tearing thorugh them--” Bucky can’t even find the words to describe it but Tony’s scent spikes, proud and smug and fond.

So damn addictive.

He can feel the needy throb of Tony’s cock against his hip, against his own when Bucky shifts a little more, and he grinds himself down against Tony. Chasing the shocks of heat and pleasure that shoot through his system everytime Tony jerks beneath him, everytime Tony cires out and drags in a ragged breath and then clings to Bucky harder, pulling him in and rocking up against him, so alive. Tony’s heels digging into the back of his thighs, hands moving restlessly over Bucky’s skin, sliding up under the back of Bucky’s shirt and leaving burning trails in his wake.

Tony feels so amazing wrapped around him, so alive, warm and demanding as his fingers dig into Bucky’s skin, his breath escaping in gasps and moans. The impossible heat between them continues to grow, until Bucky is sure it’s going to burn him away entirely, he can’t possibly survive something like this.

He can’t possibly keep it, not something like him.

“Bucky,” Tony whines and he’s shaking now, blood roaring through his veins. So close to Bucky’s fangs as he drags his lips up Tony’s throat.

“C’mon baby,” Bucky growls, clenching his teeth against the urge to bite, “lemme feel you sweet thing, wanna hear you.”

“I’m-” Tony gasps and then cuts off with a keening moan as Bucky pins him down more firmly, grinds against him harder. Tony tries to wiggle a hand between their bodies but Bucky grabs his wrist, presses Tony’s hand to the table beside his head.

“Just like this,” Bucky pleads, his own cock throbbing as he slows the rock of his hips, dragging his cock firmly along Tony’s until he shakes. “Just like this baby, wanna watch you make an even bigger mess of yourself, wanna fuckin�� lick you clean when we get home.”

It’s a nice thought, even if Bucky doesn’t know if he’ll actually get a chance, has no idea what’s going to happen next. At least the idea of it has Tony moaning louder, arching up against Bucky’s grip on his hip and on his wrist, always trying to get closer.

“Bucky, Bucky-” Tony wails beneath him, nails digging into Bucky’s skin, thighs tightening around Bucky’s hips, and Bucky can feel the way Tony’s breath catches in his chest. The way his heart pounds as he drags in one more breath and then breaks.

And this, this is Bucky’s favorite sound, the way Tony’s voice cracks on a loud moan as he falls apart, the stuttering jump-skip of his heartbeat. Hundreds of years wandering the earth and he’s never heard anything like it, could happily listen to all the sounds Tony makes for the rest of his endless life.

“Bucky,” Tony sighs, dazed and slurred, fingers still tight in Bucky’s hair even as his entire body shakes. “Fuck, c’mon honey, I’m right here, let me have it, let me feel you.”

He can hear Tony’s thundering heartbeat like it’s his own, can practically taste it on his tongue, and a feral sound rumbles out of Bucky’s chest as he tips over the edge, snarling against the all too delicate skin of Tony’s throat and clutching at him tighter, tighter.

“I love you,” Bucky confesses in a voice that’s so broken it’s practically a whisper, like his greatest secret. The worst thing he’s ever done.

They need to leave, need to get the hell out of here. Bucky should probably leave the city entirely, go back on the move, leave Tony far behind where he won’t get hurt.

That’s the plan.

He knows all that, but Bucky can’t seem to bring himself to let go, can’t stop kissing Tony over and over and over, feeling the warmth of Tony’s skin beneath his hands. Like it’s the last time he’ll ever feel it.

“Come on,” Tony breathes against his lips, “we gotta get out of here before the sun comes up.”

Bucky groans, but he knows Tony is right. He can feel the approaching dawn in his bones and the last thing he wants is to be trapped in a Hydra base full of corpses all day. Or to still be here when more hunters show up, to have to leave through the sewers.

So he reluctantly pushes himself upright, mourning the way Tony’s lingering warmth starts to fade as soon as they’re not pressed together anymore. Tony’s hand is so much steadier than his own as Bucky helps him to his feet, so warm and alive and unafraid.

Bucky wants to pull him into another kiss. Wants to drop to his knees and press his face to the wet patch slowly spreading across the front of Tony’s jeans, taste him, lick him clean just like Bucky had promised. Doesn’t want to face the real world just yet because that means facing the fact that he has to leave.

That he doesn’t get to keep this.

Tony’s hand is still steady in his, his smile small and fond and he leads Bucky out of the warehouse, through the room of bodies and the bloodsplattered halls. Bucky pulls them to a stop just outside the heavy door he’d ripped his way through, paying no mind to the lightening color of the sky.

Burning to dust would hurt less than this.

“I need to leave,” Bucky says, the words tearing their way out of his throat, “I may have... made some threats. In order to find you. And Hydra isn’t going to stop as long as I’m here.”

He hasn’t even told Tony why Hydra is so determined to ruin his afterlife, not entirely, and now he doesn’t have time. Tony has been dragged into Bucky’s mess and he’ll never know why, and the only upside is Hydra will blame the bloody mess inside on Bucky. They’ll hunt for him more furiously than ever, and the best thing Bucky can do is lead them far, far away.

This is why not getting involved with humans is rule fucking one but Bucky doesn’t regret it, knows he never will. And as much as it kills him he can’t ask Tony to come with him.

Tony nods, like he expected it, and then asks “where are we going, and how long do I have to pack whatever’s left of my apartment?”

Bucky gapes at him.

It hadn’t occurred to him that he wouldn’t need to ask, and Bucky knows he should be relieved but all he feels is guilt. He loves Tony, but at what cost? He would do anything for Tony, and Bucky is ruining his life.

“You- your home,” Bucky tries to protest, his entire body going cold, colder than anything he’s ever felt before. “Your workshop--”

“You saying I can’t rebuild?” Tony interrupts, “I’m insulted, honestly. How dare you doubt me.” His smile is wide, and cajoling, like he’s trying to cheer Bucky up. Like he’s trying to convince Bucky.

“You’ll have to leave everything,” Bucky insists and maybe he does need convincing. It feels a little like he’s lost his mind, like he’s dreaming. He had a plan. “Your entire life, to hide with me, I can’t- I can’t promise the next time you’ll even see the sun.”

Bucky doesn’t need to breathe but he’s wheezing for breath now, his empty chest aching it’s so full of confusion and guilt and hope. He can’t let Tony do this, he can’t ask for this, he can’t--

Tony grabs Bucky’s face in his warm hands, palms calloused and still tacky with blood, as steady as they are when he’s building the future. As steady as they were around the knife, as when he was leading Bucky out of the bloodbath.

“Bucky,” Tony says simply, dark eyes so impossibly bright even in the sickly fluorescent light that spills out of the warehouse. “Bucky,” he repeats, low and sweet and amused, his voice wavering slightly as says “You are my sunshine.”

Bucky laughs again, can’t believe how much he’s laughed on a night that started out with his absolute worst nightmare. Even if it is a little hysterical.

He had a plan, but he also knew better than to get involved with a human, knew better than to stay in one place this long in the first place. Tony has been wrecking all of his plans without even knowing it for months now anyways.

What’s one more.

“You’re stealin’ all my lines,” Bucky accuses but he doesn’t mind, oh he doesn’t mind at all. He gets to keep this, keep Tony, the brightest thing he’s ever seen.

“I love you,” Tony says, so matter-of-fact, and it almost knocks Bucky’s legs out from under him. Every single time.

“That’s my line,” Bucky says, and he smiles, and his hand is steady as he wraps it around Tony’s wrist. “I love you,” he says anyways and tangles their fingers together, doesn’t plan on letting go anytime soon. “Let’s go.”