#the dark is filthy and the silence is gonna kill me

[applepies-and-starlight]

Hhhhhiiiiii chat the OCD is kicking into high gear again and I do Not feel great 👍

[sinner-as-saint]

stealing hearts

Mob!Bucky x Thief!Reader 

Run-through: His mansion was highly secured, and yet, breaking in and trying to steal from him was rather easy for a skilled thief like yourself. Key word: trying. Of course you got caught by his men. And the mob boss was known to be ruthless, cold, merciless – the list of his villainy was endless – so you thought he’d end you the moment he laid eyes on a thief like you. However, he didn’t. Instead, he made you an unusual offer. One you couldn’t resist. 

Themes: thief!reader, mentions of homelessness and parental death, slight angst, mob!bucky, dom!bucky, slight daddy kink, sex toys, age gap (reader is in her early twenties), smut, fluff, cocky!reader

a/n: more mob!bucky bc i need to write him for my mental health

“Where is he?” 

You heard a deep, surprisingly calm male voice ask, followed by multiple footsteps that echoed outside this dark room which resembled a dungeon, or rather a large storage room filled with boxes. 

You heard someone correct the man. “Uh, it’s a woman, sir.” 

The footsteps stopped for a brief moment, then resumed. The first authoritative voice spoke up again. “She was alone?” 

“Yes.” 

Silence. More echoing footsteps. “I’ll handle this. Wait here.” Immediately all the other footsteps stopped and only one continued approaching. 

A few seconds later, the door opened and a tall man walked in. You knew who he was, you’d broken into his home after all. Bucky Barnes. You had seen his face on the news multiple times. He was also easily recognisable because of his metal arm. He was the one most people feared around here. He was the infamous mob boss. Filthy rich, arrogant, merciless. But powerful more than anything. 

He took one look at you, tied to a chair in the middle of the dimly lit room, and scoffed. The asshole scoffed. 

You glared at him. “Spare me whatever dark villainous speech you have planned and just shoot me already.” You hissed, looking away from him. 

He was quiet for a second. Then said, “What makes you think I have some dark villainous speech prepared?” His voice was surprisingly softer than how he sounded outside. Smooth, rich voice. The kind that felt like a caress. 

You turned to look at him again, still glaring, “All you old, rich bastards are the same. You love to hear yourselves talk.” 

He chuckled this time, shoving his hands in his pockets as he walked in a slow circle around the chair you were currently tied to. “I’m not that old. Besides, wealthy is the right word here.” He ignored the way you scoffed at his words, and continued, “Also, a thief who hates wealthy people? Very original.” 

You sarcastically chuckled this time. “See what I mean? You love to hear yourself talk.” 

He stopped right behind you, where you couldn’t see him. You would be lying if you said your heart didn’t start racing immediately. Out of your sight, he could have a gun pointed at your head right now and you wouldn’t even know. 

He didn’t say a word. He just stood there. Letting the anticipation build. Until you couldn’t take it anymore. Yanking on the ropes didn’t work, you tried that earlier. So you said, “At least have the decency to look me in the eyes while you kill me.” 

He was quiet for a moment. 

“What’s your name?” He asked. 

When you gave him your name, he sighed and said, “Who said I’m gonna kill you?” 

Oh? 

“Well I can’t imagine you’re gonna let me walk away just like that either.” You’d been observing rich people all your life, you knew how they operated. You knew he would ask for something in return. 

“No,” He said, remaining out of your sight. “No, I won’t let you walk away just like that.” He confirmed. 

You laughed humorlessly. “Just so you know, I don’t have any money.” 

He ignored you. “Who sent you?” He asked. 

Ah, the interrogation. Again. “Your loyal guard dogs already asked me that while they were tying me down. And they used some very colourful language too,” You scoffed. “And I’ll repeat what I said to them. No one sent me. I don’t work for anyone.” 

He began walking around you again, coming to a stop right in front of you this time. You looked up at him. Damn he was… kind of handsome. You couldn’t help but smirk, then failed at hiding it. 

“What’s with the smirk?” He asked. You were surprised with how calm he was with this whole thing. It was unnatural. 

You held his stare as you spoke, “Nothing I was just thinking about how I used to watch the news growing up and they always mentioned how much of a big bad monster you are. But there’s not even a single battle scar on your pretty face.” 

He chuckled this time, shaking his head as he looked away from you for a brief moment. “Stop making me sound old. Also, the scars are everywhere but on my face.” He said, stepping closer, bending down a little so he could whisper, “And did you just call me pretty?” 

Your smirk faded. Your murderous glare returned. “Fuck you.” You said quietly. 

He stepped back with a proud smirk on his face. “How did you get in here? With no help? I’m finding that hard to believe.” 

The smirk came back. “You’re doubting my amazing thieving skills? I spent years perfecting them mind you.” 

He sighed. “Years? You look twenty-five at most, have you been stealing shit since you were a kid?” 

You shrugged, or tried to, “Gotta do what you gotta do to survive. Dead parents, grew up with shitty relatives, ran away from there, been a thief ever since.” You summarised your life in that self-deprecating way you always did. 

He didn’t laugh, or chuckle. He just stared at you with an expression you couldn’t read. “Where do you even live?” 

You gave him a sassy smile, “I’m a thief, I break into somewhere new each night. You’d be surprised at how many vacant apartments with comfy beds there are in this area.” 

Again, he gave you that same poker face. Handsome poker face. “And you broke into my house tonight for what? To sleep?” 

“House?” You gasped dramatically. “This is a damn castle. Though the décor is a little too dark, then again it suits you, you know? Nice gardens, by the way.” 

He sighed again, like he was dealing with a difficult child. “Why did you come here? And how? How did you get past my guys?” 

You took a deep breath and began explaining, “Number one, I came here to steal whatever expensive things I could find. Though you do have very nice comfy beds but I never,” You put more emphasis, “ever, sleep in a house when the owner is home.” 

“Charming.” He commented. 

You continued explaining. 

“And as for how, well I spent the last few days hiding and watching. You have thick bushes out near the entrance of your castle. I stayed there, observed and learnt your security guards’ schedule, and found out that the multiple cameras around your property also rotate. I figured out that I had exactly a fourteen-second window to get past the gates. I found a chance and took it. Picking the locks was easy. But then your people just had to catch me while I was halfway through stealing that lovely painting from your lovely library.” You finished with a smile so sweet it had him sighing again. “And now here we are.” 

He mumbled something under his breath about god saving him, then he walked to the door and opened it. He called out a name and someone came running. A young man with a sweet face, looking younger than you even, walked into the room. 

“Peter, I need you to make all necessary arrangements.” Bucky pointed in your direction and said, “She’ll be staying with us. Looks like we have a new member.” 

You ignored Peter’s very confused look, and hissed at Bucky. “What? I didn’t agree to this!” 

Bucky turned to face you with a serious look on his face. “You have no job, no income, and no place to live. I’m offering you all three and you are not in a position to refuse me.” He continued over your attempt at cutting him off. “You have skills I could use. From now on, you work for me.” He paused. “Agreed, little thief?” 

You glared at him. Damn. A job, a salary, and a roof over your head? The bastard knew you couldn’t refuse. You had to be smart here. He could’ve killed you, but he didn’t. Instead he made you this almost irresistible offer. This could only mean that… 

“You really need me for something, don’t you?” You asked, suddenly sounding cocky. 

He clenched his jaw. And that was confirmation enough. “We’ll talk business later.” 

You laughed in his face. “Alright, alright, don’t get too excited. But if I’m working for you, I have some conditions and requests.” 

He blinked. The Peter guy was so quiet and still you almost forgot he was in the room. “What makes you think you’re in a position to have conditions, or make requests? I could’ve killed you the moment I saw you, you know that?” That cold voice of his would’ve sent shivers down anyone else’s back. 

“But you didn’t because you need me.” You argued with a sly smirk. “Now, here’s everything I need,” You turned to Peter and began listing, “A nice room, preferably the guest bedroom at the end of the right wing.” You winked at Bucky and said, “I checked it out earlier and it has the best view.” You turned to Peter and continued, “I also want a whole new, complete wardrobe, with bags and shoes and everything.” You looked at Bucky and said, “Can I also have a car and a chauffeur?” 

He frowned. “No.” 

“What if I need to move around? Run errands, go get my nails done and all?” You fake pouted. 

“I said no.” 

You rolled your eyes, “Fine, can I have a pet horse?” 

Bucky sighed, “No.” 

“A puppy then?” 

“What are you, a child?” He questioned. 

You smirked, “I mean you’re probably old enough to be my father.” You teased him and tried again, “Can I please have a puppy, daddy?” You knew the way you said it sounded far away from innocent. 

Bucky walked over to you so fast your brain barely registered it. He grabbed you by the back of your neck and stared deep into your eyes. “If that’s the case then daddy can also put you over his lap if you keep being a brat, and spank your little butt raw until you either cry or come, or both. Is that what you want, little thief?” 

You were breathless as you whispered, “No.” That wasn’t entirely true, and damn it, you both knew it in that moment. 

Bucky smirked. “Good girl.” He whispered. Then stepped away and turned to Peter and said, “Untie her and get her whatever she wants.” He looked at you as he said, “No cars, horses, or dogs.” 

Then he left the room. Leaving you speechless, and very much wet. 

— 

Peter, you learnt, was one of Bucky’s assistants. Whatever Bucky asked him to do, he did. That included sending a group of mean looking men out to shop for all that you had written down on your ‘Requirements’ list. 

He showed you to your requested room and promised your stuff will be here before the end of the day. And sure enough, by the time the sunset everything you had asked for was brought to you. 

You squealed when you entered the closet, excited to put away all your new things. Clothes, accessories, bags, shoes, toiletries, makeup, skin care products, and more. 

Peter came by again in the evening, bringing you dinner and said, “Boss said he’d see you in his office tomorrow morning at eight. Don’t be late, please. He hates it when people aren’t punctual.” 

You’d be lying if you said the mention of Bucky didn’t immediately remind you of what he said earlier about you being on his lap and… ugh. Damn him. 

For the first time in a long time, you went to bed with a full belly that night. And you squealed again when you got in the comfy bed, freshly showered and moisturised. As you drifted off to sleep, feeling weirdly warm and safe, you forgot all about your meeting with Bucky the next morning, and how you needed to be up early for it. 

— 

Bucky couldn’t sleep that night. So much had happened in such a short time. One moment he was having a quiet, calm day of golfing with Sam, and the next he got a phone call from his security guys that his mansion had been broken into. 

He went from spending a rare day off with his best friend, to having a sassy, drop dead gorgeous thief in his guest room. He sighed, sipping on his whiskey, holding the phone to his ear as he looked out of his bedroom window. 

“Oh, I know that sigh of defeat.” Sam laughed through the phone. “Is she really that pretty that you couldn’t even use your brain?” 

Bucky rolled his eyes. And here he thought calling Sam to complain about everything was a good idea. Of course the latter would only make fun of him. In fact, he thought, maybe Sam would team up with you and you two would make fun of him together. 

“Shut up, Sam. I’m serious.” Bucky sighed again, “She pisses me off but at the same time… I don’t know. This girl has been living like a fugitive since she was a kid. I looked up the relatives she ran from, her uncle and aunt, and honestly, anyone would run from them. God knows what kind of messed up shit she’s witnessed and been through her whole life.” 

Sam was quiet, listening. 

Bucky continued. “You know the bushes near the entrance? She hid there for days. Days, Sam! Through the rain, and cold nights all just so she could study the guards’ movements. She probably didn’t eat that whole time. Who knows when’s the last time she had a warm meal? She’s so resilient. And strong. But so sassy, and the way she runs that mouth it makes you want to-,” 

Bucky exhaled, exasperated. And continued. 

“She has that look in her eyes, you know?” Bucky thought back to earlier when he first saw you. “Life hasn’t been kind to her. She has really sad eyes. Like she was forced to grow up and take care of herself. I couldn’t…” Bucky trailed off, “I couldn’t just let her go back to living like that. Go ahead, make fun of me for it.” He sighed. “She’s gonna be really useful to me.” He stated. “You remember last year? When I was ambushed by Roger’s men? Something of mine was stolen then, and I’m gonna get it back using her.” Bucky already had a plan made. “I needed a skilled thief anyway. I mean she managed to break into my house, that means she actually is really good. She could even lead some of my guys when they go-” Bucky stopped talking and asked, “Are you even listening?” 

Sam chuckled, “I am, I am. It’s just rare to see you admire someone like this. Who knew big bad Bucky could be so soft? You better let me win next time we’re golfing, otherwise I’m telling everyone that you have a crush on the thief.” 

Bucky groaned, “What is this? What are we, children? I do not like her like that, alright? I’m about a decade and a half older than her. And she won’t stop reminding me of it.” 

Sam laughed again. “Oh I like her already. Anyway, have fun with your crush and tell me how it goes.” 

“Goodbye, you asshole.” Bucky ended the call and shook his head at the thought of what Sam said. A crush? On a thief? No way. 

As he made his way to his study room, Bucky couldn’t help but pause outside the guest room in which you slept. He could hear soft snores coming from within. Something in him felt satisfied that you were able to sleep soundly here, not having to find vacant places to break into. He wanted to keep it that way. 

Why? He didn’t know. Whatever it was, Sam was wrong. 

As he sat at his desk in his study room, Bucky tried to get work done but he couldn’t stop thinking about you. Something about you was different. Bucky never trusted people this easily, let alone allow them into his home. 

That reminded him of something… Bucky found the list that Peter had left on his desk. The list of Requirements, as you called it. And as he read all the things his men had to go out and buy earlier, Bucky couldn’t help but laugh. He hadn’t laughed like this in a long time. 

Oh this could be fun. Bucky couldn’t wait for your meeting the next morning. At eight sharp. 

— 

When you woke up, the sun was in your face. But you hadn’t felt so warm and comfy in a long, long time so you relished the feeling. You let out a yawn, opening your eyes slowly. And you found yourself looking right at a rather pissed off Bucky standing at the end of the four-poster bed, with his hands in his pockets. 

All black suit, perfect hair, and those blue eyes… 

“Oh hi,” You said, taking your sweet time as you sat up in bed. “Good morning.” 

“It’s two in the afternoon.” Bucky hissed. “Who sleeps in for that long? You and I had a meeting at eight this morning. I was waiting.” 

You yawned again. “I’m sorry, this bed is really, really comfy.” You said, as if that was a decent excuse. “Maybe you shouldn’t have put such nice beds in your guest rooms if you didn’t want your guests to sleep in.” 

Bucky closed his eyes for a moment, looking like he was trying very hard to contain his annoyance. “You are not a guest. You work for me. So when I tell you to meet me in my office at eight, I want you there.” 

You smirked, peeling off the covers and slowly crawling over to the end of the bed where he stood. You knelt on the bed right in front of him, “Oh? You want me?” You teased, knowing he would snap at any moment now. 

You remained kneeling on the bed as his metal hand reached out and wrapped around your throat, squeezing just a little. The smirk on your face stayed in place this time, only pissing him off even more. “Watch your mouth, little thief.” He said. 

“Or what? You’ll spank me till I… what was it you said?” You repeated his words from the day before, “Till I cry, or come. Or both?” He remained quiet. His hand tightened around your throat, choking you a little bit more. You couldn’t help but whisper, “Jokes on you, I’m into this shit.” 

Bucky let go of you immediately. You laughed in his face as he shook his head and shoved his hand in his pocket again. 

“Get out of bed and get ready. Meet me in my office in half an hour.” He ordered and turned to leave. 

“But I’m hungry,” You said right before he could walk out of the door. “You can’t treat your guests like this, you have to feed me.” 

Bucky refrained from groaning. “Fine,” He said, turning to look at you over his shoulder. His broad shoulder. “I’ll have someone bring up some food for you. Now hurry up, don’t be fucking late again.” He barked. 

—

Bucky was embarrassed to admit to himself that his hands were shaking as he left your bedroom and walked to his study room. Fuck, less than twenty-four hours and you already had such a bizarre effect on him. 

Bucky shut the door behind him, and closed his eyes to find some kind of composure. Fuck, fuck, fuck. The sight of you in those black satin shorts and that tight, excuse of a top… fuck. The sight of you so comfortable in bed had messed him up so much he’d gripped you by the throat like an animal. 

He was grateful you didn’t seem to notice the hardness in his pants. He needed to get a grip. How the hell was he supposed to boss you around if this is what a brief interaction was doing to him. 

He sat at his desk and waited. And about twenty minutes later, there was a knock at the door. It was one of the housekeepers with a tray of breakfast food. Bucky waited some more and after a short while, there was another knock at his door. Before he could even open his mouth to say something, you walked in. 

Bucky’s heart skipped a beat. Just who allowed you to look this good? You were glowing after a good night of sleep. You looked incredible in your little sundress. Bucky watched as you took a seat on the other side of his desk before he even asked you to. The smell of your body wash and perfume drifted over to him, and he was almost salivating. 

He kept watching as you moaned in delight when you took your first sip of coffee, then your first bite of warm croissant. 

“Glad to see you’re enjoying your breakfast at,” He checked his watch, “almost three in the afternoon,” He spoke, finally. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to discuss your position here in my house and as my employee.” 

You scoffed through a mouthful of some kind of pastry. You swallowed it with a sip of coffee and said, “So formal, my god. Just tell me where to go, what to steal and I’ll do it, no need to be so poetic about it.” 

Bucky sighed. “I don’t need you to steal anything at the moment. There is something, but the time isn’t right. I will let you know when it is. But as of now, I have other plans for you.” 

You frowned at him as you finished your breakfast. “Okay… I’ll do them under one condition.” 

“Enough with your conditions.” Bucky hissed. 

Despite his warning, you continued, “There’s this old, abandoned apartment complex,” You said, grabbing a pen and a sheet of paper from his desk like it was your own, scribbling something down, “I have some stuff hidden in there that I need. Not much, just two boxes. I know you won’t let me go but could you have someone go get it for me, please?” 

Bucky looked down at the address and apartment number written on the paper. “What stuff?” He asked. 

“Just stuff I’ve stolen over the years.” 

He scoffed, “But you have everything you need here.” 

You nodded, “Some of the things are… priceless.” 

Bucky nodded. “Fine. I’ll have someone go get it. Now, about your role here. You’re gonna start training with the guys tomorrow.” 

You frowned, “I’m a thief, I don’t need exercise.” You argued. 

“No,” He said, calmly as he leaned back into his chair. “But you need to learn how to fight, how to use a gun, a knife, self defence, how to be part of a team and all that.” 

Okay. Things got very real. You stayed quiet and nodded. 

“Can you drive?” 

You shook your head. 

“I’ll have someone teach you.” 

You shrugged. “So, no stealing for now. Only training like I’m going to battle. Anything else?” You asked. 

“Yes, actually.” 

–

About an hour later, you stood in the middle of what Bucky called your new workstation. You looked around the spacious room, impressed. It looked a lot like a lab, with every equipment a thief could ever need, even some new tech that you yourself weren’t familiar with. Weapons, trinkets, everything. 

“So you want me to teach your guys how to steal using this stuff.” 

“I want you to teach them necessary skills.” Bucky corrected. “Strategies. How to be observant. How to pick locks, how to be discreet, how to be invisible and hide for days, how to use a narrow, fourteen-second window to infiltrate a secure place. Whatever else you can teach. Minus the stealing.” 

You smirked, leaning against your new desk. “So you like what I do, huh?” 

Bucky ignored that. “Don’t cause any trouble.” He said. “I’m paying you to do a good job here.” 

You looked around again, not able to fight the genuine smile that formed on your face. “It’s like paying a kid to be at the playground.” You smirked, looking at him with determination in your eyes, and some mischief. “I’m gonna have so much fun here with my new friends.” 

“Do not hurt my guys, I need them.” 

— 

The next couple of weeks went by rather quickly. You woke up each day, excited for a change. No more having to be constantly on the run, no more having to steal for food, clothes, or find shelter. You had more time to live now, not just survive. 

Plus you had the lab. It was your favourite place ever. Surrounded by gadgets and tech you didn’t know could exist, weapons that you were starting to get the hang of, and Bucky’s guys that you used as if they were your test subjects – you actually had fun each day. 

The dynamic between you and Bucky changed too. And it all started the day after he first showed you your new lab… 

“My guys have your stuff from the old apartment. It’s in my office, come get it.” He spoke through the phone – your new phone – ordering you to come collect your stuff. 

You almost ran out of your room and to his office. When you got there, the two boxes were placed nicely on one side of his desk. A cardboard one, and the other one was a medium sized metal code-lock box. He stood behind the desk, watching you. 

“As requested,” He pointed at the two boxes, “Your stuff.” He paused, then said, “Open them.” 

You froze. “Uh, what?” 

Bucky shoved his hands in his pockets. “If I’m gonna allow you to keep your stolen goods in my house, I should know what they are. Now come on, open the boxes. I need to check them.” 

You walked into the room, shutting the door behind you. As you approached the desk, you tried to find a way out of this. “You don’t need to. They’re nothing. Just things I’ve collected over the years.” 

Bucky gave you the usual, handsome poker face. “Would you like me to open them?” 

“No,” You said quickly. You rushed to the cardboard box, opening it to let him see the contents. “See? Just books I’ve stolen from everywhere.” You explained as he looked inside the large box filled with old and new books. 

“Now the other one.” He said, eyeing the metal box. 

“That one has… um, personal things.” You said. “You don’t need to see all that.” 

Bucky walked around the desk, stopping only when he was inches away from you. He leaned a little close to your ear and whispered, “I have received bills of all the things you made my guys buy recently. Some of the bills explicitly listed each and every piece of lingerie and underwear you ordered, including a certain little red thong you’re possibly wearing right now.” He said, making you shiver. “And now you wanna talk about boundaries?” 

You pulled away to look at him, seeing the proud triumph in his eyes. “Fine.” You refused to let him win this one. You reached for the box, unlocked it, opened the lid and waited. Bucky was quiet. Too quiet. “Say something.” You whispered, “This is very awkward.” 

Finally he did. 

“Get on the desk.” He said. You froze again and seeing that you weren’t moving he leaned in to whisper into your ear, “I said, get on the desk. If I’m gonna allow you to keep all of these toys, then I better test their… effectiveness as well.” 

You avoided his eyes, focusing on the top buttons of his shirt as you asked, “What kind of rule is that?” 

“My kind.” He replied. “Now get on the desk. Legs up and spread them so I can see exactly what I have to deal with.” 

Fuck. 

You sat up on the desk, feeling just a little coy as you lifted your legs up and placed them on the edge of the desk, spreading your knees as far as they would go so he could look at you down there. 

Bucky scoffed. “See? There’s that red thong.” He pulled his metal hand out of his pocket, placing it on your inner thigh, slowly inching upwards. His cold fingers lazily teased your clit, then slid down to inspect your wet folds. He pulled the thong to the side and mindlessly dragged a metal finger up and down your slit, making you shiver and moan as he touched you. 

You let out a quiet whimper which made him groan. 

You looked down in between your thighs, his hand teasing you like it was the most casual thing. You sheepishly looked up and into his piercing, icy blue eyes that were already staring at you. You couldn’t look away. 

“Which one’s your favourite?” He asked. And it took you a little while to realise that he was referring to the pile of sex toys in the metal box. 

“The, uh… the vibrator.” You answered. Your face got all hot but you refused to seem embarrassed. 

Bucky smirked, pulling his hand away to reach for the vibrator. Light pink wand with a bulbous head. Bucky looked at it, then at you. He looked down at your wet folds and spat before turning the wand on and pressing it right on your clit. His spit helped the toy to move around better as he circled your clit with it, before moving it up and down your slit. 

You couldn’t help but moan and gasp as you felt the familiar pressure forming in between your legs, and you involuntarily bucked your hips against the vibrator, trying desperately to chase your orgasm. Of course Bucky noticed, and he scoffed as he lifted the vibrator off you, denying you your release.

“No,” You whined, closing your eyes and tilting your head back, “Please…” You begged. 

“Look at me,” he said, softly. You looked back at him as his other hand wrapped around your throat. Bucky leaned in enough so that his lips brushed against yours when he spoke. “You will come when I allow it, you hear me? 

You nodded immediately. 

“Good girl.” He said as he placed the vibrator back against your core. You felt the vibrations all over your body, as you stared into his icy blue eyes. He moved the toy around a little more before lifting it off you again, turning it off this time. “You can take your books and go now, this box stays with me.” 

He put the vibrator back safely, shutting the box. 

You closed your legs, hopping off of his desk. “What do you mean it stays with you? You can’t just… just steal my toys!” You frowned at him, pissed. 

Bucky gave you an annoying smirk. “Yes I can. Now whenever you need a toy, you can come ask for it. If I feel like it, I’ll let you have it.” 

Bastard. 

You left his office angrily that afternoon. And vowed never to beg for any of the toys in that box. Let him have it. Screw him, right? 

Wrong. 

You couldn’t sleep that night. Your fingers didn’t relieve you as much as the vibrator would have. And that’s how you found yourself swallowing your pride and knocking on his office door. The lights were on so you figured he’d still be in there. 

“Come in.” He said and you could already hear the smirk in his voice. 

You opened the door, walked in and shut it behind you. “I need it.” You said, looking at him as he lounged on the couch near his desk. 

“Need what?” He asked, acting oblivious as he placed his drink down and pretended to be confused. 

You rolled your eyes at him. “The vibrator. Please.” 

He leaned back on the couch, with a playful smirk on his face. “Oh I put it in the trash. I put all of them in the trash.” 

You blinked. It took a moment for the anger to surface. You took a step towards the couch. “Do you know what I had to do in order to rob that sex store? I had to fight the guy who was closing up for the day. With a baseball bat! And you know the worst part? He was one of my ex flings!” 

Bucky let out a chuckle. 

“Don’t just sit there and laugh! What am I supposed to do now?” 

He gave you a mischievous look and said, “Come here.” 

You crossed your arms over your chest and stood there in the middle of his office. “No.” 

“Keep being a brat and I will drag you here by your hair if I have to.” He raised an eyebrow at you. “Try me.” And those words had you moving towards him at once. 

You reached the couch where he was sitting and stood in front of him. “Now what?” 

“Get on my lap.” 

You rolled your eyes, refusing to show how his words and tone made you want to drop to your knees and take him in your mouth instead. “You’re such a disgusting, old, pervert who just wants to-,” 

He cut you off by pulling you into his lap and grabbing you by the throat. His metal hand squeezed your throat just enough to make you whimper. “What did I say about you and your smart mouth? Hmm?” Then he scoffed and said, “Right, I forgot you’re into this shit.” He squeezed your throat a little more. “If I reached down there, would I find that you’re completely wet and ready for me?” 

You whimpered again, instinctively grinding on his lap. He chuckled, shaking his head. 

“Look at you,” He murmured. “You won’t need your toys now,” He said, “If you need to come, you ask for my cock. Understood?” 

You nodded immediately. 

He smirked. “Now, will you be a good girl and fuck yourself on daddy’s cock or what?” 

You whined, nodding, “Please…” 

Bucky couldn’t help but lean in for a kiss then. All your whimpering was too much for him to handle and he couldn’t take it anymore. 

You kissed him back, allowing him to almost tear your PJs off of your body. You only pulled away from the kiss to say, “We need a condom. I’m not on birth control.” 

Bucky nodded, reaching to pull a condom out of his pocket. “Remind me about the birth control thing tomorrow.” 

You watched as he undid his trousers and put the condom on. The moment it was on, Bucky pulled you in for a kiss again. He helped you as you lifted up and then slowly lowered yourself down on his hard cock. 

You couldn’t look away as he held your stare. You both gasped and moaned as you finally sank down on him. Your body resisted just a little to fit him inside at first. Bucky felt it too, and an arrogant smirk formed on his face as he grabbed your hips in place and gently thrust his hips up, filling you up.

You moaned out loud as he did. “Fuck, you feel good, little thief.” He whispered. 

Once he was buried deep inside you, you leaned in to kiss him again while lifting your lower body just the slightest, before sliding back down on his cock, you whimpered as he groaned, filling you up and being all snug inside of you. 

“Oh fuck,” He swore again, “You feel so tight around daddy’s cock.” 

The tip of his cock reached places you never knew existed. You whimpered, whining in pleasure as you took a good look at the man beneath you. He oozed power, manspreading on the couch with you on his cock. 

You moved faster then, impaling yourself down on his cock each time. You whimpered shamelessly as you felt him filling you up completely each time, feeling him reach deeper into you with each thrust. His hand slipped between the two of you and found your clit, he rubbed it lazily. Grunting and moaning under his breath as you sped up even more, riding his cock and making him lose his damned mind.

“You have such a perfect little cunt…” He said, “It’s all mine now.” 

You were whimpering and whining yourself as you took more and more of him. But you couldn’t help but tease him, “And here I thought mixing business with pleasure was a bad thing.” 

Bucky playfully slapped your thigh. “I make the rules here. From now on, mixing business with pleasure is a very good idea.” 

You leaned down to kiss him, biting down and tugging at his bottom lip while you sped up, and his cock stretched you out each time he filled you up. “Fuck,” You whined. 

His hand circled around your waist and he pulled your warm body closer to his. He was still very much clothed, except for his cock being out and buried inside you. Meanwhile your PJs were on the floor, leaving you completely naked on his lap. Something about that contrast made it even hotter. 

“Beg.” He said, “I want to hear you beg me to let you come.” 

You bounced on his cock moaning and whining, feeling him stretch you out as you stared into his blue eyes. 

“Please daddy,” You whimpered, “Please, can I come?” 

Bucky held you at your waist and rhythmically thrust his hips up each time to match your movements. “Hold on, just a little,” He panted against your cheek, kissing the side of your face and gripping your jaw with his hand. “Just a little,” He whispered, “Wait for me.” 

“Please… I can’t,” You didn’t slow down as you felt your orgasm wash over you, and he kept thrusting his hips up into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came, hard, feeling your walls squeezing and clenching around him as you came undone. You panted and leaned forward, pushing your face into his neck to catch your breath. 

Bucky came right after you, his warm load spilling inside of you, filling you up as he wrapped his arms around you and pressed your trembling body closer to him.

“I’m sorry,” You said as you caught your breath. “I’ll wait next time.” 

Bucky laughed. “It’s alright. You were still such a good girl for daddy.” He murmured. 

—

That night changed everything. 

Ever since, each time you annoyed Bucky he would just fuck you against the nearest surface. Safe to say you began to annoy him even more. 

But he could also be kind sometimes. For instance this one time when he found you in the library: 

You were lounging on a sofa, reading when he walked in silently. 

“Winter’s tale?” He surprised you with both his literary knowledge and presence. 

You peaked at him from behind your book and said, “Leontes is such a cunt. Quite like you sometimes.” 

Bucky ended up fucking you right there on the sofa. And then promised to get you your own bookshelf in the library because he didn’t like the way you stuffed your books among his on the current shelves. It’s messy and immature, he said. Grown ups don’t keep their books like this, he said. 

Bucky could also be so confusing at times. Like how he would always treat you like the thing between the two of you was just a casual fling. But then he would get jealous whenever he saw you getting too close to any one of his guys while you trained with them. 

“I will be overseeing your training from now on. No need to join the guys in the morning.” He said out of nowhere when you joined him for dinner in the dining room one night. 

“Why?” You asked. 

“Because you distract them too much with your shenanigans. Constant flirting, walking around in your little workout outfits, all that needs to stop.” He spoke, avoiding your eyes. 

You smirked. “So we’re gonna be early morning workout buddies from now on?” 

He sighed, “Don’t make me regret this.” 

You chuckled, “Oh you will regret this.” 

He did. But in the best ways. So each morning workout either started or ended with a nice fuck sesh. 

—

You were at your workstation one morning when Bucky walked in with a serious look on his face. 

You’d just seen him a couple of hours ago for your ‘workout’ so you wondered why he was back. Usually he left you alone for most of the day, only finding his way back to your bed late at night. So this was unusual. 

“What’s going on? Why do you look like you want to murder someone?” You asked as he stood right in front of you with an earpiece in hand. 

“Put this on.” He said. 

You did as he asked. And waited. 

Bucky grabbed his phone, walking to one of the nearest screens and a few taps later, you were looking at the live feed of some kind of body cam. 

“What’s this?” You asked. Just then, you began hearing muffled voices coming from the earpiece. 

Bucky turned to you. “My guys are… retrieving something of mine from a secret location. I need you to guide them.” 

Your eyes widened. “Wait, is this it? Is this the thing you needed me for?” 

Bucky’s face gave away nothing. “Just do as you’re told.” 

You nodded, quickly looking back at the screen. “Who’s leading them?” You asked. 

Someone’s muffled voice replied from the earpiece. “Thor is.” 

You nodded, looking at the screen. “Right. How could I miss those biceps that are bigger than my head?” You said. 

Bucky smacked you on the butt and said, “Focus.” 

“I am, I am. I got this.” 

Anf for the next few minutes, you led the men through whatever maze of a building they were in. You found the location within seconds and managed to have a blueprint of the place. You warned them of the cameras, told them when to move and when not to. You instructed Thor how to pick an ancient looking lock that led them into an even bigger maze. But you did everything right, used the right strategies, the right tricks up your sleeves, and you managed to get the guys out of there safely, with the mystery package they stole. 

Once they were out in the clear and confirmed that they were on their way home, you turned to Bucky and asked, “How did I do?” You waited eagerly for his response. 

Bucky just smirked and said, “Good. You passed the test.” 

Your smile faded fast. “What? What test?” 

Bucky explained, “The guys weren’t actually out stealing shit. I just wanted to see how you would do in a situation like that. And you did great. Congratulations, little thief.” 

He turned to walk away but you called out. “You know, I deserve a nice gift for being so amazing.” 

“Do you now?” He asked, not turning around. 

“Yes, I want a dog!” 

Bucky paused at the door. “No.” He said and left. 

“Please, daddy…” You pouted. 

“No.”

Oh well, it was worth a try. 

— 

The next morning, you woke up and got ready for yet another day of annoying Bucky. However, when you stepped out of your bedroom door, you noticed something outside your door. 

It was a basket. And inside it slept two puppies, two of the fluffiest little balls of fur you’d ever seen. Once the shock passed, you began tearing up immediately. 

You picked up the basket as slowly as you could and made your way to Bucky’s bedroom. You walked in without knocking. And there he was, standing in the middle of the room, getting ready for the day, buttoning his black shirt, casually looking like a god. Once he saw you, his playful smirk showed itself. 

“So, how do you like-,” He stopped talking the moment the first tear fell down your cheek. His smirk disappeared. “What is it?” He asked. 

You carefully placed the basket down, the puppies inside it sleeping soundly. Then you rushed to Bucky, wrapping your arms around him tightly. 

Bucky hugged you back instantly, though confused concerning your reaction. Out of all things, he didn’t expect this. “Hey, what’s going on?” He asked, softly. 

You sniffled, hiding your face in his chest. “I was thirteen when I ran from my uncle and aunt’s house.” You said, voice muffled. “And they had dogs so I grew up with them. But when I took off to be on my own, I couldn’t have a dog because I could barely take care of myself.” You sniffled again. “And it’s hard being without animals when you grew up around them, you know?” You let more tears wet his shirt. “Thank you,” You said, finally. 

Bucky held you as your shoulders shook with your sobs. He placed a gentle kiss on your temple and whispered, “Oh baby, I’ve got you now.” 

You pulled away to look at him, both of you ignoring the patch of wetness your tears left on his grey shirt. “You got me two puppies.” 

Bucky smiled down at you. “You deserve it.” 

You sniffled, “You’re being nice, what do you want?”

“Nothing,” He rolled his eyes, “Now get out of here.” 

You stayed put. “I can’t. I have to make it even.” 

“Yeah?” Bucky raised an eyebrow at you. “How?” 

You shrugged. “I don’t know, let me suck your-,” 

He cut you off by pulling you closer, a hand wrapped around your throat already. “You are very tempting right now, in your little red dress. And if you don’t want want me to tear it off right this instant, I’d suggest you-,” 

You cut him off this time, “Who said I don’t want you to tear it off?” You asked with a smirk. 

Bucky sighed before pushing you down on his bed. “I’ve got a busy day ahead.” He said, looking down at you as he hovered above you, “But you don’t care about that, do you?” 

You giggled, shaking your head. “Not one bit.” You said, running your hands over his chest and his strong shoulders. 

He smirked, giving in. He leaned in for a brief kiss while he pulled your dress up and placed both his hands on either one of your knees and separated your legs, settling in between them. 

Your heart raced in anticipation. His hand slowly dragged your thin underwear down your legs and threw it around somewhere behind him as he inched his face closer to your already dripping core.

“Such a fucking brat.” He mumbled and brushed his soft lips along your inner thighs, making you giggle and moan quietly under your breath.

“Shut up, admit it. You’re obsessed with me.” You sassed, then moaned out loud when you felt his warm tongue lick from your entrance up to your clit. You felt a familiar rush in your veins. Fuck he was addicting. 

Your hands grabbed fistfuls of his hair, tugging on it as his mouth teased you. His tongue slowly circled around your clit, earning more moans out of you as your back arched off the bed. His bed, you realised. This was the first time you two were fooling around in his room. 

Only now did you realise how it smelt like him. Dark, male, addicting. But most of all, dangerous. Fuck, just his scent made your head all foggy in lust. 

Bucky had you squirming, moaning, a complete mess under him in no time. “I love seeing you like this,” He said, kissing your inner thighs, “Too busy moaning for me to run that smart mouth.” 

You couldn’t answer as your legs trembled around his head, he locked his arms around your thighs and pushed his tongue deeper into you, making you cry out of pleasure. 

“See what I mean?” He chuckled, “I bet you want to say something sassy so bad right now, but you can’t.” He playfully bit you before sucking on your clit. “Daddy’s tongue has you all tongue-tied, huh princess?” 

You cried out. “Please… please daddy,” You whined. 

With a proud smirk, a look of determination in his pretty blue eyes, and a couple more strokes of his tongue, he had you gushing out all over his tongue, lapping up all that you gave him. While you moaned and squirmed on his bed as he sucked on your sensitive clit until you calmed down. 

You kept your eyes shut as you caught your breath, feeling him leave small kisses all over your thighs. 

When you opened your eyes again, his face was right above yours. His devious blue eyes looking down into your wide open ones. You were certain all he saw in your eyes was hunger. For him. 

“I want you,” You whispered, sliding your hands into his hair. “Now.” You demanded. 

“Brat.” He hissed when you tugged on his hair. 

You smiled. “Pretty sure it’s princess.” You teased. 

“A bratty fucking princess then.” He didn’t give you a chance to sass back as he leaned in for a deep kiss, holding himself up with one hand as he quickly undid his trousers. You helped, pulling his cock out and stroking it. Bucky moaned into the kiss as you did, and the sound of it sent shivers down your back. 

You gasped, and whined into the kiss as he carefully slid into you, filling you up entirely, inch by inch. Stretching you out deliciously like he did all the time. Bucky wasted no time, he pulled out and pushed back into you, making you moan into the kiss each time until the makeout turned lazy and messy, filled with gasps and moans. 

You noticed he wasn’t being as ravenous as usual. He was… trying to be gentle with you. 

Indeed he was. Your heart skipped a beat when Bucky laced your fingers together and pinned both your hands above your head as he sped up just a little into you. He was groaning and panting against your lips as he fucked you slowly, and you were unable to focus on anything other than him. 

His hips rolled against your body perfectly, and his body weight pressing down gently on you was comforting. His grip around your hand tightened each time you’d moan his name out loud. 

“That’s it, princess.” He whispered against your open mouth, “Tell me who’s making you feel this good. Who’s fucking you, huh?” 

You kept whimpering his name over and over again as he fucked you nice and slow, kissing his way down your face, from your collar bones to down your chest. And you cried out when he took a nipple into his mouth, teasing it with his tongue.

You opened your eyes as he pulled away to look down at you, his lips soft and pink and parted as he breathed rapidly, fucking into you a bit faster. 

Something shifted in that moment, you weren’t sure what. But something changed. 

His brows furrowed as he tried so hard to hold back and make you come before he did. “Fuck,” He swore. “Come for me.” He smirked and leaned down to whisper in your ear. “Come for daddy, princess.” 

You felt the pressure building in between your hips as he sped up even more, his metal hand reached down and grabbed your hip gently, keeping you in place as he sped up into you. Your bodies moved perfectly against each other.

Bucky pushed his face into you and nuzzled your neck as he growled in pleasure. With a few more strokes of his cock, you came undone, moaning and whimpering under him, grinding against him hungrily while he came right after, filling you up again. 

He stayed there, limp on top of you for a brief moment, before he slid off of you and laid down beside you. He caught his breath while you blinked rapidly, trying to calm your racing heart and figure out what the hell just happened. 

Before the awkward silence settled in completely, you got up on shaky legs and fixed your dress. “Well, this has been fun. I gotta go feed my new kids now. See you later.” You grabbed the puppy basket and almost ran out of his bedroom. 

As you shut the door, you heard him laughing to himself. A boyish, carefree laugh that made you smile. 

— 

With your new dogs, training, your lab, more training, days flew by. 

Whatever Bucky had planned, whatever big heist you were supposed to carry out, you knew it was coming soon. 

You often wondered what would happen once you successfully stole whatever he intended for you to steal. You didn’t even know what it was yet. Must be something precious either way, if all this planning went into it. But what after that? Would you no longer work for Bucky then? 

Would this… whatever it was between the two of you that both of you absolutely refused to acknowledge – no matter how much Sam teased you both for it – would it all end? 

You were lost in thoughts of all this when you found yourself mindlessly making your way to Bucky’s office one evening. Your two dogs, loyally in tow. 

You found Bucky in an equally sour mood as you, sulking at his desk with a drink. 

You shut the door behind you, leaving the dogs outside as you made your way to Bucky. He looked up at you and silently patted his lap. You made yourself comfortable on his thighs, an arm around his neck as you leaned in and nuzzled his cheek. His stubble rough against your nose and cheek. 

“What’s wrong?” You asked, “What has you looking like an evil god plotting the end of mere mortals who are standing in the way of you dominating the world?” 

He chuckled at that. “You are so annoying you should be grateful at least you’re pretty to look at.” He mumbled, taking a sip of whatever was in his glass. You assumed it was whiskey. 

You couldn’t help the laugh that left your lips. But then you noticed that distant look in his eyes. Unfortunately, you were very good at reading people. You leaned in and kissed his cheek softly. 

“What is it?” 

He let out a sigh. “You never ask me what I’m keeping you around for.” 

You shrugged. “You said you’d tell me when it’d be the right time. I’m just waiting, I guess. You told me about Rogers and his men and how they stole something from you. The details aren’t necessary, whatever it is, I’ll get it back. I promise.” 

Bucky placed his glass down and turned to look at you. His metal arm held you securely on his lap. “It’s my mother’s ring.” He said. “The ring has been in our family for generations. All the men propose to their women with it.” He paused, then added, “I have nothing left of hers. Just the ring.” 

Damn. Well. You would have never guessed that. A family heirloom? Why would Rogers tell his men to steal that? How would he even know to steal that? 

You began to ask just that. “How did-,” 

Bucky answered before you could even finish your question. “Steve, Sam, and I used to be friends. I always thought we’d be friends till the very end. But then Steve went rogue, power got to his head.” 

Shit. No wonder Bucky and Sam were so close, they survived the downfall of a strong trio. 

“I’m sorry.” You murmured, gently stroking his cheek. “I’ve never had close friends like that, I can’t imagine what it must be like to lose them. But I can tell it makes you really upset.” You pointed out. Then you took a deep breath and said, “I’ll get your mom’s ring back. And I will even kick Steve for you if you ask me to.” 

Bucky gave you a faint smile. 

“Just get the ring back.” He said, staring deep into your eyes. “I need it.” 

Oh? The thought of him on one knee, asking someone to marry him was surprisingly uncomfortable. But you pushed all that aside. 

“So when do I go?” 

— 

Another week later, the plan was ready. Bucky’s men were ready. You were ready. 

You had the location, had studied the blueprint very well. You’d be in contact with Bucky the whole time through the earpiece. Steve was rumoured to be out of town. His guards would not be expecting the heist. This was perfect. 

Or so you thought. The moment you got near Steve’s house, a gut feeling told you something was off. And you must’ve mumbled something to yourself because Bucky’s voice came through the earpiece just then. 

“I’ll say it again. The moment you sense something wrong, fall back. Do you hear me?” He used the cold, bossy tone. 

You scoffed and replied, “Yes daddy.” 

A few of the guys chuckled around you. And you could hear Bucky sighing as you giggled to yourself. 

You noticed the guards getting ready to move, the typical security rotation. You looked behind you and whispered to the guys, “We have exactly twelve seconds to make it past the gates. Don’t be too loud, and follow me. If you can’t make it, stay back here and keep watch. Everyone understood?” 

They all nodded silently. 

“Okay… now!” 

Not all of the guys could make it. Some had to stay back because the twelve-second window was too short for everyone to beeline through the gates. 

But the group of you that made it past the gates and into Steve’s house were in for a big surprise. It was a trap, Steve wasn’t home but his people had been waiting for you. 

What was meant to be a clean heist ended up in a crossfire. 

You could hear Bucky barking orders through the earpiece. “Fall back! Now!” 

You almost did… but fuck you were so close. So close. That was when you took the earpiece off and tucked it into the pocket of your cargo pants. He may have been right, but the adrenaline was too much to resist. You’d missed this feeling, this rush of being so close to danger, to being caught… 

So you went for it. 

Walked deeper into the trap. 

You knew where the ring was kept, you had the little box in your hand. You didn’t have time to see what it looked like as you put it away in your pocket, along with the earpiece that Bucky surely was still screaming through. 

And then. The room exploded. 

Then there was nothing. Just ringing in your eyes, and blurry images in front of you. You coughed, gasping for air and all you got were dust in your lungs. 

You faintly remember hands reaching for you, dragging you, trying to get you to walk. But your body did not cooperate. It refused to. 

You don’t know how much time passed. Or where you were. 

You could hear the panic in his voice as you tried your hardest to reorient yourself. Bucky was here? You were lying on the floor somewhere. You couldn’t remember much. 

The heist. The ring. A lot of fighting. An explosion. 

Ah, an explosion that threw you across the room causing you to collide against a concrete wall. 

Your side hurt, badly. Your head throbbed. Your vision was blurry, but at least Bucky was here. He was here, you could hear his rapid footsteps approaching. 

“Baby….” His voice sounded distant. “Baby, open your eyes. Please.” He had never sounded so vulnerable. Due to the way your body moved, you assumed you were in a rapidly moving vehicle. “Look at me,” You felt his hands on your face, “Princess, please…” You couldn’t focus too well on what he was saying, “... sorry, I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have… baby, please…” 

Then there was just darkness.

And pain. 

And a headache that refused to go away. 

But you were with Bucky so you gave into the darkness. You knew you were safe now that he was here. 

— 

When you woke up, you realised you were in Bucky’s room. On his bed. The headache was still here, not as bad as before though. 

The room was dimly lit, so you figured it must be well into the evening. The house was quiet, but as you tried to sit up, you heard him. 

“Thought you were gonna sleep for two more days.” 

You couldn’t help the smirk. “I slept for two whole days?” Then you panicked, looking around, “Where are my dogs?” 

“Safe, fed. Sleeping.” Bucky stepped out of the dark corner of the room, but didn’t come any closer. He was quiet for a few moments. Then, “You almost got killed.” He stated, looking like he hadn’t slept in days but no less handsome. 

You scoffed. “As if that’s all it would take to kill me. You know, I once fell from two storeys and survived with just a twisted ankle. I’m amazing like that,” You winked at him. “Besides, I did a good job. I managed to get your precious ring,” You went to pat your pocket, only to realise that you were no longer wearing those cargo pants. 

Of course, he wouldn’t have left you in those same clothes for two days while you recovered. You looked down under the blanket and you were wearing clean clothes. His clothes. Sweatpants and a t-shirt. The t-shirt smelled like him. 

“Looking for this?” He held his hand up and there it was. Prettiest piece of jewellery you’d ever laid eyes on. You could see the big, heavy stone from here. Dark green, black, silver. It looked elegant, and like it was crafted in some fae realm. It was truly unique. 

“You changed me.” You pointed out, looking down at the clean clothes. 

He gave you the same poker face. “What does it matter? I’ve seen you naked more times than I can count.” He said. 

“And you made me wear your clothes.” You gave him a bratty, triumphant look. 

He glared at you. “I’m sure my clothes feel more comfortable than those tight little dresses you wear all the time.” 

You gasped dramatically, “You mean those tight little dresses you fuck me in all the time?” 

That had him walking towards his bed immediately. “Don’t fucking tease me. Not right now, you’re hurt.” 

“Aww,” You teased, “You care about me.” 

Bucky sat down on the edge of the bed, turning to face you. “I guess I do.” He said, reaching out to touch your face carefully. 

You couldn’t look away from him. He was so gorgeous. Even in poorly lit rooms with his face half hidden in shadows, he was the most handsome man you’d ever seen. 

He smirked when he noticed you checking him out, “I know I’m pretty, stop drooling.” 

You scoffed, shoving on the shoulder. The muscular bastard of course didn’t even move an inch. 

“I’m gonna go bring you some food.” He said, taking your hand in his metal one. “You’ve been unconscious for days, you need the energy.” He slid the ring on your ring finger so casually it took you a few moments to realise what he’d just done. 

Only when he got up to walk away did reality hit you. Hard. “Wait, what the fuck?” You held your hand up, “What does this mean?” 

Bucky gave you a shrug, “Get used to it.” 

“Bucky!” 

“What?” 

You blinked, mouth open, your body frozen in shock. “Did you just… are you for real? I thought the plan was to get the ring back so you could display it in your office and admire it like the deranged villain you try so hard to be.” 

He couldn’t help but laugh. “Change of plans.” 

You lowered your eyes, tracing a finger over the big stone on the gothic looking ring. “You can’t marry a thief.” 

Bucky sat back down again, taking your chin between his fingers. “Why not? You stole something very precious the day you broke into my home, and this is your punishment now. A life sentence, if you will.” 

“What did I steal?” 

“My heart.” 

You groaned at his cheesiness, leaning in and hiding your face into the crook of his neck. “You bastard.” 

Bucky chuckled. “I love you too.” 

You were quiet for a moment, breathing in his scent. It grounded you. But then you pulled away and asked, “What about Steve?” 

“I’ll deal with him.” Bucky answered, sounding grave and cold. “He hurt my princess,” He said, pulling you closer so much that you were almost on his lap, “I’m gonna kick his ass.” 

You giggled, “Well technically he hurt your princess because she broke into his house to steal. Honestly, he had every right to hurt your princess.” You argued. 

Bucky smirked, “So you agree? That you’re my princess?” 

You rolled your eyes at him, “Technically I’m your fiancé but I don’t really care about labels so yeah, I’ll be your princess or whatever.” 

He laughed, “Oh you don’t get to be nonchalant about this. I’ll throw a big party, invite the whole city if I want to. And you’re gonna be the centre of attention the whole night, parading around in a pretty dress of my choice, showing off your ring, and telling people how much you’re in love with me.” 

You groaned again. “You are insufferable.” 

“I love you too, princess.” He repeated, kissing your forehead.

[nerdytyrantphantom]

sharpshooter (joel miller x f!reader)

summary: after a long game of cat-and-mouse, you finally have joel miller where you want him. little do you know, you’ve walked right into his trap.  pairing: joel miller x f!reader word count: 2.7k rating: 18+ explicit  warning: oral (f receiving), unprotected p in v sex, creampie ao3 link: click here a/n: enemies to lovers! porn with no plot! FILTHY CONSENT! this story was really just an outlet for me to release a bunch of my sexual frustrations lately lmao. enjoy!

You’d been tracking him for weeks and it was finally about to pay off – literally and figuratively. As the sun sank into the horizon, Joel Miller’s silhouette disappeared into an abandoned shelter on the outskirts of the woods, and you knew this was your opportunity to get your reward from the Fireflies.

Once the moon’s glow lit the pathway to the safehaven, you began your descent towards the shelter. Snow crunched beneath your boots as you approached the rotting door, and with an aching creak of the hinges, you were inside.

Silence. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness, you realized the interior was seemingly unscathed. No cabinet doors swung open revealing their emptiness. No overturned shelves littering the floors. It appeared like no one had ever looted the place – a rare sight in this world. 

You clicked on your flashlight for further investigation. There was a staircase in a corner of the room and you knew that’s where your target had to have disappeared to. As your flashlight shined over the room – the empty dining table, rickety shairs, dusty shelves – you noticed footprints.

Puzzled, you realized the footprints didn’t lead to the staircase like you thought they would. Instead, they had only gone a couple feet in front of where you stood before they disappeared. Everything went still.

By the time you turned around, it was too late; Joel had his gun pointed at your head the same way you had yours aimed at his. 

For a moment, the two of you stood there with your eyes locked in a fierce stare. You had been told of the atrocities the man had committed, but had never been warned of how attractive he was. As your eyes bore into each other’s, there was a change – something shifted. There was a spark of something – what, exactly, you weren’t sure – but suddenly you were blinking, losing concentration.

Joel spoke first. “You’re not a bad shot,” he said, a hint of admiration in his voice.

You kept your tone even. “You’re not so bad yourself.”

He cautiously lowered his rifle. “Look,” he sighed, raising his hands in surrender. “I don’t know about you, but I’m getting tired of playing this game.”

You held steady. Focus. “Yeah? And what game is that?”

A smirk ghosted his lips. “The one where you pretend like you’re gonna finally shoot me.”

Livid by his insinuation, your fingers darted to the trigger – but Joel was faster. He instantly redirected the muzzle of your gun over his shoulder, sending a bullet flying through the air and shattering a window on the wall behind him, before shoving you against the wall. 

“Careful there, rookie,” he chided, pinning your arms above your head. “Might do something you regret.” Towering over you with his calloused hands firmly locked around your wrists, you tried to ignore the flickers of fire stirring inside you.

“I wouldn’t regret it,” you seethed through gritted teeth. You pounded your head against the wall in frustration – for not killing him when you had the chance, for getting caught in his trap, for feeling an undeniable desire infect your thoughts. You glared up at him through your eyelashes. “I’d get my fucking pay and move on with my life.”

Joel’s grip tightened. His jaw clenched as he considered your words. “That it then?” he asked, cocking his head to the side. His dilated pupils scanned your face. “You just taking orders?”

You ignored his question and winced. He was squeezing your pressure points and he knew it. While your eyes searched for a way to break free, your mind became further plagued by the man in front of you. His body was so close. His warmth was so palpable. And he smelled of pine and whiskey – the scent sending your hormones into a frenzy. You swore you were getting drunk off his closeness alone.

In seconds, he flipped you around and flattened your chest against the wall. “I asked you a question,” he warned, now holding your wrists at the small of your back.

Despite the hostile environment, he kept a respectful distance from your body. Besides his hands that shackled your own, he didn’t touch you – and it made you absolutely ache. 

With nothing at this point left to lose, you couldn’t help yourself. You listened to the carnal urges whispering in your ear and gave in to fueling the fire inside of you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Joel asked as your hand massaged his pants from behind you. It was hard to perfectly align your palm with his crotch, but your intentions were clear.

“Something I won’t regret,” you answered, your voice much softer than you intended. There was a hint of a plea in your tone. Pathetic. However, your movements grew confident as you felt his pants tightening beneath your touch.

Joel traced the tip of his nose over the skin behind your ear, testing you. “This some sort of trick?” he murmured, his breath sending goosebumps down your spine. “Or is this real?”

Your eyes fell shut at his touch. His deep voice and southern drawl were as smooth as honey as he spoke into your ear. Your body buzzed with want as your hand grew more fervent over his pants.

You arched your back against him, attempting to rub your ass over his crotch, while your hand now clung to the hem of his shirt. “I’ll show you,” you whispered over your shoulder, raising your head to give him further access to your neck, “if you let me.”

Joel loosened his grip on your right wrist, but continued to hold your left one secured against your back. “Go on then, baby,” he murmured. “Show me what you want.”

You placed your hand over his own and guided it across your body. Slowly, you traveled up the span of your stomach to your chest and squeezed your hand over his, letting him feel your pebbled nipple through your shirt. He tenderly massaged your breast and already, you could tell so much about the man you had been hired to kill - how his touch was strong yet gentle, careful yet confident. 

Under your hand’s lead, he continued to explore your body lower. As your hand snaked into the waist of your baggy pants, Joel buried his head into the crook of your neck, deeply inhaling. Your teeth sank into your bottom lip as you guided his fingers over the top of your panties. 

Relinquishing control, you placed your hand against the wall now as Joel fingered the wet warmth pooling in the center of your underwear. “This all for me?” he purred into your neck before nibbling gently. You gasped at the sudden contact of his teeth, but eagerly nodded as his fingers delicately traced every dip and curve of your core.

“I told you,” you panted, cautiously turning around to be face-to-face again. “It’s real.”

For a moment Joel studied you like he was trying to figure out what to do next with you. You resisted the urge to beg him to touch you and did your best to wait patiently. Then, in one fluid motion, he was lifting you up and sitting you on the edge of the table. 

Your hands planted on the surface behind you as Joel lifted your foot. With slow, deliberate movements, he began unlacing your boots one at a time. Next, he instructed you to lift your hips and pulled off your pants, leaving you in nothing but your shirt, coat, and soaked panties while he remained fully dressed. 

Once he had your bottom half how he wanted it, he remained standing and placed your foot over his shoulder. “Been a long time since you were properly fucked?” he asked, turning his head to place a delicate kiss on the inside of your ankle. His scruff tickled your skin and you found his leisurely pace torturously frustrating. 

“Y-Yeah,” you nodded, eyebrows furrowed in anticipation as you watched his lips trail more kisses up your calve towards your thigh. His eyes locked with yours for a moment and your stomach dipped at the delicious look painting his face. He looked like a starving man about to devour his first meal.

As he approached your thighs, Joel repositioned himself on his knees. He gently lifted your legs and placed them over his shoulders, before returning to your supple flesh. “You really need it, huh?” he mused, dragging his tongue up towards your panties. When you could only swallow a lump in your throat and nod, voice dry, Joel cooed. “Poor baby.”

Unable to restrain yourself, your fingers threaded through Joel’s dark peppered hair, the thick curls lacing between each digit. You cradled his head in your hands, fighting the urge to finally make his lips meet your heat, and instead studied his face with quiet desperation.

“You want me to fuck you good, baby?” he asked. With his lips on the very edge of your panties planting a delicate kiss, he looked up at you for your response. 

Your hands squeezed at his scalp as you nodded. “Please, Joel,” you whimpered, uttering his name for the first time. The sound seemed to trigger something in him as a glint of arousal flashed through his eyes.

“Say it all together,” Joel instructed, his warm breath fanning over the wet spot of your panties. He started to kiss through the fabric, letting his tongue suck and lick right where you were desperate for it. 

Your head shot back in pleasure as you pulled Joel’s face against you. He allowed you to flatten his nose against your panties as you instinctively bucked your hips. “I want you to fuck me, Joel,” you whimpered, massaging his scalp as you held him against you. You grinded against his face. “A-And I want you to taste me.”

Joel growled in satisfaction as he swiped your panties to the side. Finally, you felt his breath directly on your skin, and keened at the sensation. Without missing a beat, he dragged his tongue up your opening, before taking your clit into his mouth. With a pleasurable hum, he sucked and stroked his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. Meanwhile, his hands hugged your thighs, pulling your body against him as much as possible.

A white-hot euphoria overtook your body. With Joel in complete control, the only thing you could do was hold on and ride the wave he was sending you on. “Joel,” you tried to warn him, leaning over his body. His lips continued to work against you, his warm mouth like a magnet to your heat. “Joel, you’re gonna make me…” you trailed, continuing to cradle his head.

Joel hummed in response and massaged his fingers against your thighs. “That’s it, sweetheart,” he encouraged, nuzzling his nose into you. His mustache tickled with every word and the combination of sensations was becoming unbearable to handle. “That’s it, let me see how good you taste, baby,” he murmured. 

You made the mistake of looking down at him and that was it – you were done. At the sight of his strong arms hugging your thighs on either side of his head, his sharp nose flattened against your core, and his deliciously dark eyes staring into yours, you felt an electric wash of pleasure cascade throughout your body.

You arched your back and practically wept as you came. Panting, you struggled to pull him off of you, his hungry mouth desperate to lap up everything you’d given. “J-Joel,” you whispered, desperate to catch your breath. “Too much,” you explained, but he was deaf to your plea, still eating away at you. The pleasure faded into an overstimulated pain as he pushed you onto your back and continued to work over your clit.

“I’m not done with you yet,” he murmured, finally giving you a break and kissing up through the pubic hair covering your mound towards your belly button. He pulled your shirt up over your breasts and tugged down your bra. As your nipple met the cool air, it was quickly warmed up by Joel’s hot mouth and rugged breathing. 

As he feasted on your chest, you heard the fumbling of his belt buckle. In seconds, the leaking tip of his cock was teasing your entrance. You raised your head, desperate for a look at his cock tantalizingly close to your opening, but were blocked by Joel still on your chest. 

“What is it, baby?” he asked, trailing his mouth to your collarbones. “You want to watch the moment I slide my cock inside of you?” he asked. His lips enclosed around your chin and nibbled up your jawline. 

“Mhm,” you nodded with a fervent whimper. Joel smirked. He rested his forehead against your own and took in the sight of you watching him guide his cock inside. The combination of pain and pleasure was instant; as he stretched you open, your parted your legs wider, 

“Oh, my God,” you whined as he bottomed out inside you. The way he filled you completely and pressed against you was unreal. Your hands clawed at his shoulders for purchase. “You’re so fucking big,” you said, your breath hitching as he began to establish a rhythm.

“Shhh,” he cooed, tucking your hair behind your ear as he increased his speed. “You can take it, baby,” he encouraged, burying his nose into your neck. “That’s my girl.”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head at his praises. Every touch lit your body on fire: his pubic hair tickling against your clit, his thick girth filling you completely, and the tip that kept hitting that perfect spot deep inside you. As Joel wrapped his arms around you in an embrace, your body started to melt. 

“Come on, baby,” Joel purred, feeling your body grow limp in his arms. “Stay with me.” He took one of his hands and slid it down your body. Before you could protest the contact, his finger was already toying with your clit.

“Joel!” you cried, keening at the overwhelming sensation. His callused finger continued to rub slow swirls over you as his mouth came to the corner of your own. “It’s okay, baby,” he murmured, kissing the edge of your lips, “you can take it.”

His other hand rose to the back of your neck and held your head steady as he stared into your eyes and continued to thrust into you. Just as your eyebrows began to furrow in pleasure, Joel’s mirrored yours, and you could feel his own orgasm nearing as his movements became sloppy. 

“Come in me,” you begged, feeling that familiar pleasure wash over you a second time. “Please come in me, Joel,” you repeated, squeezing your eyes shut as your mouth fell open in ecstasy. 

Joel squeezed the back of your neck. “Look at me, baby,” he pleaded, and it was then, just as you opened your watery eyes brimming with tears, that Joel grunted in pleasure and you felt his warm spend shooting deep inside of you. The moment seemed to last forever, until finally, Joel collapsed onto the table beside you.

“Jesus Christ,” Joel panted, his hand lazily reaching out to stroke your belly while he caught his breath. Your eyes stayed shut as you panted, tongue absentmindedly licking your lips as you savored the moment. “That was something.”

A goofy smile spread across your face as you came back to planet Earth. You turned to face him and he immediately wrapped his arms around you pulling you close. “Yeah, that was,” you agreed, burying your face into his neck. As you breathed in his scent again, you held back another moan at the feeling of his warm cum leaking from between your legs. “Fucking amazing,” you added.

Joel squeezed you against him and massaged your scalp as he held you close. For a moment, you two simply enjoyed the moment, the only sounds your shallow breathing and beating hearts. 

Then you felt Joel angle his lips against your head. “By the way,” he trailed, his hand lowering to stroke your back. You felt his lips start to grin against you. “I never got a chance to ask: what’s your name?”

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

My Beloved - Galileo Galilei

Translations may not always capture the exact nuances or tone of the original text. Expect grammatical errors.

Galileo: "I feel strange about it myself, but for some reason, on the day we met, I revealed my true name to you, no matter how trivial it may be."

Mitsuki: "Why is that?"

Galileo: "I wonder why?"

While taking in her earnest gaze, I gave a vague answer and tilted my glass.

(It's really weird.)

(I've been dragged around by Drake before, but I never thought I would end up drinking with her.)

As I rolled the rich taste of the wine on my tongue, my thoughts were enveloped in a floating sense of intoxication.

My body felt hot, and I could even feel the heat in my breath.

(Hm?)

Suddenly, I looked back at her and found her blushing, staring intently at me.

Galileo: "Your cheeks are red. Are you drunk?"

Mitsuki: "N-No, I'm not drunk."

Galileo: "Then what's wrong? Why are you blushing?"

Mitsuki: "That's because right now, you..."

Galileo: "What about me?"

Mitsuki: "Your expression looks very gentle."

She stammered unclear words, clearly flustered.

(I don't understand why she would blush at that.)

(But it fits her.)

Perhaps due to the wine, my slightly foggy head led me to think that way, and suddenly, something stirred inside my chest.

It wasn't discomfort, but rather...

(Can she blush even more?)

Following an impulse that surged within me, akin to the curiosity of exploring unknown stars, I got up from my seat.

Mitsuki: "Galileo?"

I approached the sofa next to her and reached out to touch her cheek.

Mitsuki: "............"

Mitsuki appeared surprised but didn't resist my touch.

Galileo: "You're warm."

Galileo: "Your cheeks are red, and your eyes are glistening. Is it because of the wine, or are you crying?"

I peered into her eyes and gently lifted her chin.

Mitsuki: "Ah."

(What was that sound?)

Mitsuki's sweet voice, which she accidentally let out, stuck to my ears unexpectedly.

Mitsuki: "I-I'm not crying. It's just that my heart has been pounding since a while ago."

Galileo: "Why aren't you looking at me?"

Mitsuki: "That's..."

She turned her face toward me, but when our eyes met, she quickly looked away again, flustered.

Mitsuki: "Galileo, are you teasing me?"

Galileo: "I'm not teasing you."

Galileo: "I just thought it wouldn't hurt to observe your warmth and expressions."

(It's hard to understand why you keep stepping into my life even after I've pushed you away.)

(But looking at it differently, it means there's still room for exploration.)

I was staring at her quivering lips with a feeling similar to examining the stars.

Mitsuki: "I'm gonna use the restroom!"

She stood up hastily and awkwardly left the room.

(Her expressions change so quickly.)

Even in this short period of time, she displayed laughter, confusion, and shyness, showing a range of emotions.

I sat back on the sofa alone and felt like the room had suddenly fallen into silence.

It was as if a sense of loss had taken over.

(Ridiculous. This should be a normal thing to see.)

Was I thinking foolish things because I'd inadvertently compared her to a friend?

As I held the glass again and gazed out the window, I saw the crescent moon shining.

However, the moon gradually became covered by clouds, stealing the light from the sky.

(That's right, I have nothing left to lose.)

As if pulled into the darkness myself, I closed my eyes.

------------Flashback------------

Priest: "A heretical scholar who denies God's teachings一no, a filthy heretical monster."

Galileo: "Don't tell me that's why I'm一"

Priest: "Sinful monsters should not exist. May you burn in the fires of God."

Galileo: "I hate them. I hate all of them."

Galileo: "It's all because of this blood."

Galileo: "I will kill them all. I will kill every single one of them with my own hands!!"

---------Flashback Ends---------

Galileo: "----!"

(That time?)

It might have been just a few minutes or perhaps even seconds, but the dream I'd seen in an instant brought back vivid and intense emotions.

(Ah, that's right. I don't have time to indulge in past sentiments.)

(I don't need such lukewarm emotions.)

(As long as this world exists, the hatred within me will never disappear.)

The moment the hatred in my chest flared up, the glass I was holding shattered, and my blood got mixed in with the wine, the scent of iron spreading.

Mitsuki: "Galileo!?"

Mitsuki: "What happened!? We need to stop the bleeding."

Mitsuki returned and had an expression of shock unlike anything before.

But my heart no longer moved, and her panicked voice sounded distant.

(As long as I have this hatred, I will never forget my purpose.)

Even if her straight gaze stirred my heart again, my path in life would never cross with hers.

(I will definitely achieve my goal no matter how much you try to get in my way.)

My bloodied hands seemed like proof of my renewed determination.

Part 1 ╎ Part 2 ╎ Premium ╎ Epilogue

[belit0]

Hokage

Pairing: Uchiha Izuna / Senju Hashirama

“We should tell him.”

“Just shut up and ahhg-“

Two huge hands sink into Izuna’s hips as his lover pushes him down, claiming dominance over his body more profoundly.

His forehead rests on a broad tanned shoulder from the Senju who rocks his shape, sizes so different in comparison Hashirama makes him straddle him for fear of crushing his form if he lays beneath him. Izuna knows it’s an excuse, verbiage from the first Hokage to manhandle him as he likes, use the force difference to lift him up as if he weighed nothing and ease him back onto his cock.

It’s not like the Uchiha can complain. Not exerting himself and being consumed by this enormous tree he has as a partner is a privilege only he can afford.

Attention returns to the world as the possessive grip disappears away from his waist, and Hashirama puts both of his hands behind his head, leaning against the bed’s backrest.

How rude. Just as Izuna is about to finish.

“Hokage-Sama please, I’m almost there, more...”

If Senju wants him to beg the way he likes so much, he’ll do it, for being denied to cum is something he’s been suffering for the past hour and it’s not fair. Who would have thought Hashirama could be so dominant during intimacy?

“Are we telling him or not?”

“Yeah! We will definitely tell him!”

“What is that?”

“Yes, sir...”

“Good boy.”

The movement resumes as his hips slam upward, lifting Izuna with his hands as if he were a puppet. The Uchiha clings with his fingernails to his partner’s massive shoulders and feels the long-desired orgasm coming, almost, almost....

THUD

Door is kicked down and Izuna’s climax postponed again, but not because of his lover. This time it is his older brother who deprives him of his pleasure. 

Madara enters the room spewing smoke from his nose, hair more disheveled than usual and a vicious Sharingan spinning violently.

“HASHIRAMA WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH I-“

From behind, just as disheveled and angry as the Uchiha leader, Tobirama walks in, smacking on the head whom he had been chasing all over the village to avoid ending up just... here.

“Anija, regretted to report this jerk’s insistence is merely something you can deal with.”

Both of them try to catch their breath, while on the bed both lovers continue to be connected body to body. A single sheet covers Izuna’s ass, falling over both of their laps. But the position, the nudity, and the marks on both torsos are quite obvious.

Izuna would have stood up to calm his brother, who has just discovered his months-long secret relationship with his best friend. This is the worst-case scenario for it to happen. Well, maybe not, posing could have been worse.

Only Hashirama’s commanding hands keep him fixed in place, unable to move, still full and about to orgasm in front of three men.

“Madara, we were just discussing with Izuna about sharing with you about our bond!”

Senju has the audacity to grin with all his teeth, as if his cock wasn’t inside a person.

“GET YOUR HANDS OFF HIM YOU FILTHY FUCKER THIS VILLAGE WAS A MISTAKE I SHOULD HAVE KILLED YOU AGO-“

“Anija, I entrust you to take care of this other business after you wrap up... that.”

Tobirama announces as he drags the Uchiha leader out of the room, a deep blush on his face after realizing the situation.

“Oh, but, Mady, don’t you want to stay and watch me finish off your little brother?”

Wow.

Izuna never thought his beloved’s dark attitude extended outside the privacy of the bedroom, but that’s proof enough.

There’s no door to close anymore, yet there is suddenly silence in the house again, a sign of Tobirama using his Hiraishin to get rid of the annoyance.

“So? Now what are you waiting for, little tiny thing? Gonna cum or not?”

[somekndofnature]

No Other Way #19

Another one for the @domaystic prompt challenge and it is safe for work, just a few kisses and curse words.  I started with an idea for this prompt and then, when I sat down to write it...well, it sort of did it’s own thing. Still, I’m happy with the end product.  

Day 19:  Managing Expenses

Fandom: Inuyasha; Modern MMA AU

Pairing: Inuyasha/Kagome

Rating: T for language and suggestive humor

AO3

Well, Too Much Silence Can Be Misleading

Inuyasha fell face first onto his bed, groaning as his tense muscles ached in protest. One clawed hand reached out and snatched the pillow from the opposite side, crushing it to his chest. He buried his nose in the downy soft cushion and inhaled Kagome’s gentle scent before releasing a weary sigh. It had been a long day.  

While he appreciated Sesshomaru’s effort to finally start to involve him in the running of the fighting federation, as more than just a fighter, it didn’t mean they were suddenly best friends. Some days, only the fact that it was his father’s–their father’s–legacy kept them from killing each other. Today was one of those days. Inuyasha just couldn’t stomach his condescending behavior; the long suffering-sighs every time he voiced a question or idea, the constant aire of superior disdain as he looked down his nose at his half-breed brother, or the grumbling under his breath about Inuyasha's unruly hair, foul language, and unprofessional clothing. 

Tough shit, Sess. A plain black shirt and jeans is the best you’re gonna get out of me.  

Unless it was fight night, then Inuyasha was required to wear a suit to the arena. It was a federation rule and apparently the hill Sesshomaru was willing to die on. Everyone came looking their best, shaking their feathers like arrogant peacocks. It was another part of the performance, hyping up the crowd. Inuyasha could only ever think of tearing his claws through the uncomfortable silk and wool to get down to business. Kagome’s gentle touch resting between his shoulder blades was the one thing that ever stayed his hand. She made everything worth it. 

Those quiet moments in the locker room just before he stepped into the ring, where she divested him of that sham finery, were some of his most treasured memories. Her delicate fingers would slip glossy buttons through their holes, unwind the silk knot of the tie that threatened to choke him, and strip away the facade of culture that he barely maintained. With soft spoken words of encouragement and concern whispered across his skin, Kagome would bare him, body and soul, revealing only the hanyou who loved her beneath the shiny trappings.

Filthy bastard half-breed still needing that lowly creature to calm you like a pup.

Inuyasha winced and bunched his shoulders, growling under his breath at the insidious voice of his half-brother that infiltrated his thoughts. Sesshomaru was the last person he wanted to be thinking about right now. He hugged Kagome’s pillow tighter and tried to push all thoughts of his dick of a sibling from his mind. He had spent all day with the fucker; Inuyasha didn’t need to bring their family drama home with him, as well. He took a deep breath, like his girlfriend had taught him, and counted to ten, trying to tamp down on all of the anger and resentment that had swallowed him today, but knowing that only her presence would fully soothe him. 

Soft white ears perked up at the sound of keys jingling in the lock on the front door. Kagome! 

Inuyasha’s heart leapt as he scrambled out of bed and down the hallway, rushing the front door just as it opened. Kagome fell through, laden with several bags that she was now squishing under her weight.  

She blew a dark curl out of her eyes and looked up at him with a tired smile. “Hi!”

“Hey,” he replied, brow furrowing as he helped her to her feet. “Why didn’t you call me from downstairs? I could have helped you.” 

Kagome dusted off the front of her blue skirt and fluffy pink sweater. “No need. I had it under control,” she replied, ignoring the sprawling bags that crowded the entryway and belied her statement. “Sorry, it took me so long, I had to go back to Sango’s place to drop some stuff off in my room and grab more clothes.”

Inuyasha shook his head as he gathered everything into his arms. 

“Wait!” she called when he headed for the kitchen. 

He turned back just as Kagome toed off her shoes and pranced toward him. “What is it?”

“You didn’t kiss me,” she replied, laying a hand on his chest. 

One corner of his mouth drew up into a lopsided smile as she stood on tiptoe and threaded her fingers into the silver hair on the back of his neck. Inuyasha let Kagome  draw him down into a gentle kiss, playing her lips over his in feather-light, tender, caresses that left him cursing the burden in his arms. He couldn’t hug her close or run his hands over her soft curves. Too soon, she was pulling away.  

Kagome cupped his cheek in her hand. “You look tired. Long day?”  

“You have no idea,” he replied with a roll of his eyes as he stepped away from her touch and headed into the kitchen.

“That bad?” she asked, following on his heels. “I thought things were improving between you and Sesshomaru.”  

He snorted, placing the bags on the counter. “He’s lucky he didn’t leave missing the other arm.”

“Inuyasha,” she chided at his side as she started unloading. 

“Look, I’m sorry, Kagome but he is just such an arrogant fuck,” he snapped as he leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “It drives me insane.” 

“Oh yes, arrogance is completely his problem. It is so not a family trait,’ Kagome replied with a wry smile over her shoulder. She grabbed a few things out of the bag and started to put them away in the refrigerator. 

Inuyasha balked. “Are you trying to say that I’m arrogant? I’m nothing like that asshole.”

The door to the fridge closed with a poignant thunk as Kagome turned to face him. 

“What?”

“Inuyasha, what was that thing you said to Kouga, the last time we saw him?” she asked, folding her arms over her chest. 

“That he didn’t have a big enough dick to satisfy you,” he immediately repeated without shame. 

“All while implying that you do?” Kagome raised a brow like she had made some kind of point even as her cheeks pinkened. 

“What? That? That isn’t arrogance, ‘Gome. It’s the truth; I don’t need to tell you that. Besides, have you seen those tiny workout shorts he wears? He can’t be packin’ much south of the border or he’d be falling out.” 

“Well, it’s nice to know that you’ve been looking,” she said with a smile playing at the corners of her lips.

He shrugged. “At what? Ain’t nothin’ to see. He’s like a fucking Ken doll down there.”

A bright chuckle sputtered from her. “Inuyasha!” 

“What?”

“You keep proving my point.” 

Inuyasha rolled his eyes and reached back to grip the counter in tense hands. “Come on, ‘Gome. That’s not the type of arrogance I’m talking about. Sesshomaru is just unbearable. He thinks he knows everything and that I’m some sort of dumbass. He’s always talking about how he and the old man established the foundations of this country from the ground up,” Inuyasha said, slipping into a mocking impression of his brother’s elite accent. “‘Father and I did this’ or ‘Father would have laughed at such a suggestion’, blah, blah, blah.” A growl rumbled in the back of his throat at the memory. “It’s like, I get it, ya know? They spent centuries together building this whole empire. Sesshomaru knows everything about him from the way he took his coffee to his favorite fucking brand of socks. Everyone knows he’s the real son! He doesn’t need to keep reminding me! I know!” 

His angry shout seemed to echo through the air as the smile fell away from Kagome’s face. “Inu.”

He bit out a curse and looked away, shifting from foot to foot before ultimately pushing off the counter. “I gotta get out of here.” 

“Wait!” She caught his arm and he couldn’t find the heart to shake her off. It would only make her cry and him feel like the biggest jerk alive. “Inuyasha, look at me.”

After several moments he reluctantly faced her again but kept his arms crossed tight over his chest. This wasn’t a conversation that he wanted to have. 

Kagome’s blue eyes darted all over his face until he had the distinct urge to fidget. They had enough arguments between them that he knew it wasn’t pity which furrowed her delicate brows but genuine empathy. She had also lost her father at a young age and only remembered him in flashes of memory or occasional dreams.  

She placed a hand on his forearm and cupped his cheek. “You are your father’s real son–” 

“Keh.” He cringed, ears flattening against his head as he studied the floor.  

“Listen to me,” Kagome insisted, lifting his eyes back to hers. “You are Toga Taisho’s real son and there is nothing you or I or anyone can do about that. It’s biology; he made up fifty percent of everything you are. Not even Sesshomaru, in his mighty wisdom,” she drawled with a roll of her eyes. “Can change that.”  

Inuyasha remained silent, scowling at his toes and ready to bolt the moment she released him. 

“Come on, puppy,” she pleaded, rising on tiptoe to wrap her arms around his neck. “I know Sesshomaru is patronizing and insufferable and…” She trailed off, releasing a delicate but irritated growl that only endeared her to him more.  “But you’re doing the right thing.”

“Keh. By what? Not killin’ him?”

“You’re trying,” she insisted. “That’s what’s important. Good relationships aren’t built overnight.”

“I don’t want to build a good relationship with that asshole,” Inuyasha spat, making his disdain for both Sesshomaru and her psychology mumbo-jumbo known.  

“Inuyasha,” Kagome replied in a firm tone. “I’m well aware that you don’t really feel that way. The two of you are the only ones left of your family, and I know that there are some chasms between you that are too wide to cross, but I also know that you want to try.”

He grimaced but slipped his arms around her waist. “Whatever the fuck that’s worth.” 

“It’s worth a lot,” she replied. “Your father would be proud of you.”

In spite of his desire to appear indifferent, Inuyasha’s ears perked. “For what?”

“For being the bigger man, for not giving up, even when things get difficult. He would definitely be proud. I mean…” Kagome shrugged. “Your mother would be proud of you too, but that sort of goes without saying, doesn’t it?”

Inuyasha shook his head but ultimately relaxed, linking his hands behind her back. “Fine, but you don’t get to use that one for at least a month.”

“Stop making it so true and I’ll stop telling you.” Kagome gave him a soft smile. 

He glanced away, feeling his cheeks start to heat. “Keh.”

“Yeah, “keh” yourself,” she replied, giving his hair a gentle tug. “You’ll just have to learn to live with it.” 

Inuyasha pulled her closer, gratified when she melted into the line of his body like she had always belonged there.  

Kagome released a contented hum. “So, will you stay? I’ve really missed you today.” 

When she looked up at him with those pleading blue eyes, he could hardly say no. Inuyasha didn’t quite feel so restless anymore anyway. Right now, he couldn’t think of anything he wanted more than to spend a night-in with her. He gave a grumbling nod of assent.  

“Yay!’ She placed a swift kiss on his cheek, flitting out of his arms before he even had the chance to tighten them around her.  

Inuyasha scowled and followed after her. “Oi! Is that all I get?”

“I have to start making dinner soon, Inu,” she replied with a giggle as she once again turned to the full countertop. “Now help me out.”

“I get it,” he said, coming to her side. “You’re just using me for manual labor, aren’t you?”

Kagome winked. “Maybe, but I offer one hell of a compensation package.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that,” he replied while pulling several items out of the bag. When his hands closed around a package of chicken instead of the steak Inuyasha remembered her promising, his frown deepened.  “What the hell is this?”

She closed a cabinet door, glancing his way before rolling her eyes. “Oh don’t start, Inu. Meat went up in price. I’m a poor grad student. Between my half of the rent at Sango’s, utilities, transportation, and feeding a ravenous hanyou, I’m strapped.” 

“If you needed cash, why didn’t you just ask me?” He started digging his wallet out of his back pocket before she rushed over, stopping him.  

“I’m not going to take your money, Inu.” 

“Why not?”

“Because, I was just kidding about the ravenous hanyou thing; I don’t mind.” She shook her head and turned back to her task. “I’ll be fine.”  

He scoffed. “Come on, ‘Gome. We can at least go halfway on things like food. You’re here all the time cooking for me.”  

“That’s not true,” she mumbled absently. “What about when I’m at Sango’s?”

“Yeah, and when was the last time you spent the night there?” 

“Two weeks ago for my French Lit exam. Why?” Kagome asked with her head buried in a cabinet. “Are you complaining? You don’t want me here?”   

“No, that's not it, at all. I just think it’s ridiculous,” he replied, while tossing the empty sacks into a drawer. “You practically live here.”  

The sudden silence made his ears twitch and Inuyasha looked up, meeting her surprised gaze. “Is this your way of asking me to move in?”

His eyes went wide, dark brows arching upwards. “Uhhhh…” 

“It wasn’t.” Kagome started waving her hands through the air with her cheeks turning beet-red. “Never mind, forget I said that.” 

Inuyasha was still in mild shock at her suggestion. It wasn’t that he had never thought about it. She was over at his apartment all the time. For the first time in a long time, he could say that he felt content. He’d never had a life as good as the one he did now, asking for more felt greedy. It never stopped the longing for something permanent, though.

He wanted Kagome around all the time, even when he was moody and frustrated; hell, especially then. The idea of coming home to a place they both lived, of building a life together, of picking out curtains and arguing over bills, of lazy Sundays where they never got out of bed; it all filled him with such a bone-deep sense of peace and satisfaction.  

She fidgeted the longer he stared at her, finally grabbing her small duffle bag off the counter. “I’m just gonna throw my stuff on the bed.”

“Wait.” Inuyasha stepped forward and captured her hand. 

“What?”

“You would really want to do that?” he asked while searching her eyes. 

Kagome’s face softened into a smile as she dropped her bag to the floor and faced him fully. “Of course, Inu.”

“Aren’t there some people who would object?” 

“Who? Mama?” 

He shrugged. “And the old man.” 

“Inuyasha, it’s the 21st century and I’m twenty-three. I think Mama and Grandfather can deal with the fact that I’m living with the man I love,” she said with a roll of her eyes.  

“I think he’s going to have some things to say about it.”  

“Well then, he can take them up with someone who has the patience to listen.” She squeezed his fingers. “So, does this mean you’re asking me to move in?”

“I don’t know,” Inuyasha replied with his heart slamming against his ribcage. “Are you saying yes?” 

Kagome bit her lip before she blossomed into a radiant grin and jumped into his arms, giving him a full body hug. “Yes, yes, yes! Of course I want to live with you!”

“Whoa,” he chuckled, catching her under her thighs. “Wasn’t expecting that reaction.” 

Kagome tightened her arms around his neck, silencing Inuyasha with a heated kiss that curled his toes. 

He groaned, clawed hands slipping down to cup her soft backside as he carried her toward his…their bedroom. 

“Inu,” she mumbled against his lips. “What about dinner?” 

“It can wait,” he replied, grunting when her thighs squeezed his hips. “We have something to celebrate.”

Kagome nodded, moaning into his mouth as he crossed the threshold with her still wrapped around him.

Inuyasha kicked the door closed behind them, still marveling at how such a terrible day had turned into one of the best of his life. 

[winchesterszvonecek]

I See Red 18+

Chapter 9 - It Hurts to Know That I Can’t Have You

Word Count: 4260

Series Masterlist | Full Masterlist

Like most demons, Crowley disliked Hell. In fact he downright hated it. Despised it with an absolute passion and if he could he’d never step foot in that horrid place for as long as he lived. 

It didn’t matter that he ruled it. That he’d been named the King of it. He still hated the place with every fibre of his being  and would do everything in his power to make sure he didn’t have to descend into the pit unless absolutely necessary. And today just happened to be one of those days. 

Today Crowley found himself to be rather enjoying his time surrounded by fire and brimstone, you know, if he ignored everything else and focused solely on his reasoning for being there. Which was to feed a particular rumour spreading demon to his hound, who was very much looking forward to sinking her teeth into some more demon tainted meat as she’d developed quite a taste for it. And who better than the demon responsible for jumpstarting the rumour about Crowley saving Selina and sending her human attacker straight to the deepest, darkest pits of Hell?

Not that it was a rumour as it was very true in every sense of the matter but still, Crowley wasn’t about to abide by such behaviour. An example clearly needed to be made of any demon willing to participate in such gossip and where better to start than with the one responsible for it in the first place? Besides who knows, perhaps seeing what happens to those stupid enough to talk behind the King’s back might make other demons less inclined to do so.

“Please, your majesty.” Arman begged, his voice trembling as he was forced down onto his knees upon the filthy, blood soaked ground of Hell’s kennels. “I didn’t…”

“I don’t like rumours, Arman. I never have and I never will.” Crowley said coolly, pacing before the rightfully scared demon. Arman was about to speak once again until Crowley raised his hand, silencing him before any words could pass his lips. “I especially don’t like those that involve myself and any personal business that I may have with ones such as the Winchesters.” 

“Last I checked…” Arman spat, his behaviour changing so drastically that it caused Crowley to stop in his tracks, brows furrowed as he finally dropped his eyes to meet the strangely brazen demon. “The Winchesters are supposed to be the enemy. God knows how many of our kind they’ve killed over the years. Selina especially. So you can go ahead and kill me all you want but I can promise you… That whore is gonna get what’s coming to her.”

“Is that so?” Crowley hummed out, playing it casual despite the intense rage he felt bubbling away inside him. He smiled, one that lacked any form of happiness before his lips pressed together and a loud whistle echoed throughout the room, wiping Arman’s smugness clean off his face as it was pretty obvious that his attempts at riling Crowley up enough to result in a quick death had failed. Miserably.

Crowley had learned from his brief interaction with Damien that slow, painful deaths were absolutely the right way to go when it came to Selina and everything to do with her. Therefore he was well and truly able to control his own emotions long enough to see that through with Arman.

The moment Juliet sunk her teeth into his flesh that rage slowly drew to a simmer. Before dying down completely alongside Arman’s screams as the hound picked him clean and left nothing but bones where he once stood.  

“Good girl.” Crowley said happily, patting Juliet gently atop her rather head before she skulked away into the darkness of the kennels. 

The soft clacks of Juliet’s claws had barely begun to fade away when Crowley’s phone rang. One of the perks of being King was that he never once lost service, no matter how deep beneath the Earth he was and for once he found himself to be incredibly grateful for that when he saw exactly who was calling him. 

“Selina.” Crowley exhaled as he picked up, after having returned Earthside as the last thing he wanted was for Selina to hear the souls of the damned wailing around him. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

“Alright, look just… Just let us go and we’ll forget any of this ever happened, huh? How does that sound?”

“Dean?” Crowley’s brow furrowed a touch at the sound of the eldest Winchester. He dropped the phone from his ear, double checking that he hadn’t just imagined Selina’s name on his screen. 

But he hadn’t. 

Selina had called him and therefore it only raised a few questions. And concerns. 

Raising the phone back to his ear, Crowley was just in time to hear his new favourite voice mutter sarcastically, “Great negotiating skills, Dean. Really, top marks.”

“I don’t see you doing anything to help ease the situation.” Dean fired back, only adding to Crowley’s confusion greatly and part of him suspected that he’d been accidentally butt dialled. 

“Shut up!” An unfamiliar voice yelled angrily, making Crowley’s stomach churn in an almost human way as the situation was becoming ever so clear the more time went on. 

“Everyone just relax…”

“Easy for you to say, Dean. You’re not the one with a knife to your throat.”

Crowley had never moved so quickly in the span of his very long life as the world around him shifted. Selina’s words were like a punch to the gut as he couldn’t fathom the idea of anything happening to her. Again. Especially if it involved her dying as in that case, he’d never see her again and would resort to ripping Heaven apart in order to find her. 

Now, he may not have the power to actually do that but so help him God he would try.

Appearing in what looked to be an old warehouse, Crowley remained hidden by the cover of darkness as the scene before him began to unfold in real time. Sam and Dean were unarmed, as was a third, unfamiliar man, their hands behind their heads as they openly surrendered. And no doubt due to the fact that some idiot cop had Selina pressed up against him with a knife to her throat.  

A second assailant, who was clad in an odd looking black tunic, was holding a gun to yet another unfamiliar man's head. But Crowley didn’t care about him whatsoever, sorry Harry, not when Selina’s life was at stake.

“If anyone says another word I’ll slit her throat, I swear to God!” The cop yelled, adding a touch more pressure to the blade that sliced ever so slightly into Selina’s skin, making her wince softly as she felt the warmth of blood trickle down her throat.

“Do that and you’ll be dead before she hits the ground.” Crowley said nonchalantly, despite his worry. He stepped out of the shadows, revealing himself just as the hostage takers spun swiftly on their heels. 

“Who are you? How did you find us?” The cop asked, tightening his hold on Selina in such a way that made Crowley all but seethe with anger. He kept his cool though, stalking towards them with such casualness that Selina couldn’t help but smile as trust him to put on a show.

“Me? I’m the King of Hell.” Crowley said plainly, flashing them a grin when all they did was furrow their brows at him. He blinked once, clouding his eyes with his essence and finding amusement when those unfamiliar with demons let out frightened whimpers. “Now, I’ll give you five seconds to let her go. Five…”

Crowley was cut off before he’d even made it to four. The cop thrust Selina towards him, practically throwing her into his arms where he caught her with both ease and relief. He had a hard time even letting her out of them, much preferring to keep her within their safety but he was fully aware that this wasn't the time nor the place for his protectiveness to rear its head. Not when Sam and Dean were in direct line of sight of the King and their sister.

“Same goes for him.” Crowley motioned towards Harry, sensing Selina's concerns for the young man and within the blink of an eye the Ghostfacer had joined them, seeking protection behind Selina as he wasn’t sure who he was more afraid off. The hostage takers or the strange man with the piercing red eyes.

Glancing to his side, needing more reassurance that Selina was truly alive and well, Crowley was met with her grateful eyes and a soft smile, one that was barely noticeable but enough for him to make out. He happily returned it, briefly, as a split second later his eyes dropped to the cut on her neck, bright red and still dripping blood down the length of her pale skin. His jaw tensed, anger once again beginning to boil inside him and with a quick twist of his hand the hostage takers fell to the ground. 

Dead. He’d snapped their necks and as far as regret goes, he felt none.

“Crowley, what the Hell are you doing here?” Sam asked, eyebrows knitted together tightly over his confusion riddled eyes as he, along with everyone else, ignored the fear filled rambles of both bewildered Ghostfacers. 

They’d give the boys the riviting talk that is all things demon later but for now they were much more concerned with exactly how, and why, Crowley was even here.

“I called him.” Selina confessed, pulling her phone from her pocket to reveal the call that Crowley had forgotten to hang up on in his haste to show up and save the day. She ended the call, locking her phone with a quiet click as both of her brothers just tilted their heads in question, making her sigh softly to herself before adding, “I figured he was the best chance I had of not getting my throat slit, okay? So sue me.”

“I had things under control.” Dean replied, but not without hesitance. And a frown from his sister in response as they both knew he did not have anything under control and truth be told, that cop was about five seconds away from killing Selina therefore Crowley had been her best chance. 

But Dean wasn’t about to openly admit that. He still had some dignity left that he’d like to keep and he wasn’t about to let Crowley take that from him.

Satisfied, yet minutely irritated, Sam and Dean collected their discarded weapons before ushering the still unnerved Ed and Harry out of the warehouse, leaving Selina with Crowley as she figured thanking him in private would be less embarrassing for all of them. She waited until the outer door swung shut, the clanging of it settling fully into silence before she finally mustered up the courage to turn and face the demon. 

“You seem to be making a habit of coming to my rescue.” Selina said playfully, folding her arms over her rapidly beating chest as she did everything she could not to look him directly in the eye. 

Especially now that she was alone with him. Again. She could already feel that familiar tension forming in the air. Thicker than before. Suffocating to a point where her lungs felt tight. And boy was it desperate… So, so desperate to finally be broken that if they weren’t careful, it might end up just that. 

“I’ll always come when you call, darling.” Crowley replied softly, stepping forwards a little as he brought his hand up to cup her face, using the hold to gently raise it so she would look him in the eyes. 

He could feel her own hand begin to graze slowly up his arm, carrying a chill he hadn’t felt in centuries up with it. Her touch contuined on across the warmth of his chest, where she immediately gripped one of the lapels of his jacket with such force he jerked forward a little.  

“I’m starting to see that.” Selina whispered, her eyes falling from his as she smiled sweetly, and in such a way that it had Crowley lean that much closer to her. 

As the distance between them grew shorter, Selina’s stomach fluttered so furiously that it made her a little scared that a swarm of butterflies were about to come flying out of her mouth like some horror flick. She took a breath, gathering all the strength she needed to look back up at him, meeting his eyes that were so utterly soft she might have melted to the floor.

Even despite that she couldn’t stop her gaze from continuously dropping to his lips, where she could see the tip of his tongue poking through a little. She couldn’t help but imagine what they’d feel like. What he’d feel like, and that was partially the reason why she leaned in to the point where there was barely two inches of air left between them. 

“And there’s something else I’d like to see too.” Selina whispered, her breath puffing out over Crowley’s skin with such heat that for the first time in… forever, his eyelids actually fluttered. “Or rather, something I’d like to try.”

“Then try it.” Crowley urged, in a tone so quiet he wasn't sure whether or not she had heard him. 

But it didn’t matter if she had. Not when the way his lips brushed over hers was all that was needed to add more than enough fuel to the raging fire that was swiftly igniting between them. In one fluid motion Selina tugged on his jacket with enough force that his lips planted firmly against hers, allowing them both to feel exactly what they’d craved since that day outside Jody’s.

Crowley’s hand slid around the back of Selina’s neck, moving up just enough to cradle the back of her head and deepen the kiss neither of them ever wanted to end. It didn’t matter that they shouldn’t be doing this. That it was wrong on so many different levels, yet at the same time felt soright. 

They simply didn’t care about anything else but the sensation of one another. The world around them stopped turning, becoming nothing but a noiseless blur as they got lost in the overwhelming passion of a kiss that was, quite frankly, overdue. But no matter how lost Selina seemed to get in the moment, or how badly the roughness of Crowley’s stubble against her skin made her never want to part from him, she couldn’t seem to stop the alarm bells in the back of her mind from going off. Loudly.

Reluctantly Selina pulled back, panting softly for air as she hadn’t realised how little was left in her lungs and she was surprised she hadn’t passed out. It took her a few seconds longer than normal to open her eyes and when she did her heart screamed for different words to leave her mouth. But unfortunately for both parties, it didn’t quite scream loud enough to overthrow her conscience. 

“I’m sorry.” Selina whispered, her heart sinking as her head fell forwards, where she was unable to see the drop of Crowley’s lips when he realised exactly what she was sorry for. “I wish things were different.”

“They can be.” Crowley said softly, gently hooking his finger underneath her chin and tilting it back up. Her eyes were glistening in the dim light of the warehouse. Full of regret and if he looked deep enough he was fairly certain he could see a hint of love behind that which she was trying her hardest to keep on show. 

Nothing. 

Selina was trying so hard to show no emotion over what was to come and yet at the same time she was telling him everything he needed to know and more.

“How? How can they be different?” Selina asked, practically choking out the words as this felt more difficult than anything she'd ever faced in her life. And yes, she was including the apocalypse in that. “Last I checked, you’re still a demon. Still the King of Hell. In what sense could this ever be different?”

Crowley remained silent, his eyebrows drawing together as he fell deep into thought, looking for anything in the vast amount of knowledge he’d gained over the years that he could use to answer her question. No matter how hard he searched though, he couldn’t seem to find anything. 

“You have no idea how much I want this.” Selina carried on, bringing one hand up to gently cup the side of his face. She ran her thumb over the lining of his beard, feeling her heart break that much more when he leaned into what was probably the first non-harmful human touch he’d had in a while. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted this… Ever since that night I’ve only wanted you and I don’t know why. Or how. But I do… I want you , Crowley. And it hurts to know that I can’t have you.”

“What makes you think you can’t?” Crowley asked, genuinely curious as to her answer yet at the same time dreading it.

“You know why.” Selina whispered, ghosting her thumb alongside Crowley’s eye in indication of what lay beyond them. “What you are… What I am. It would never work. Not when I know that what I might feel for you, you could never feel for me.”

“You don’t know that.” Crowley said softly, lightly brushing a few strands of Selina’s purple hair behind her ear before his hand came to settle aside her saddened face. 

He wanted to tell her, of course he did. Why wouldn’t he? If he told her the truth, that he was able to feel things, human things. Like sadness, happiness, maybe even love then perhaps this scenario would have a different outcome to that which he feared. But no matter how badly he wanted to confess that, he couldn’t.

Truthfully, part of him was scared that his ability to feel emotions would wear off after a time. That in a few weeks, months, or maybe even a year, he’d resort back to the demon that he once was. The cruel, capricious demon who’d once cut off the finger of a prophet and attempted to have the very woman he had now fallen for killed. And Crowley simply wouldn’t allow himself to do that to Selina. 

Better she go on by herself and figure out a way to get over him than have him string her along for a few months only for her to end up having to get over him anyway. Crowley knew that would be a whole lot tougher. If what she was saying was true then she might have grown to love him by then. She might have given him the one thing he truly desired and if that was the case, then it would only make it that much harder for her to let him go and demon or not, he couldn’t break her heart like that. 

So he had to let her do this. 

“You’re right.” Selina exhaled, her breath trembling a touch and almost making Crowley slip up and blurt out his deep seated feelings for her as he couldn’t stand to see her like this. But better he see her like this now than have to go about seeing her brokenhearted later. “I don’t know that. But I can’t take the chance… So I think it’s best that we just… Go back to how things were before.”

“If that’s what you want then I will oblige.” Crowley said painfully, forcing his lips to twitch upwards a little to hopefully offer Selina even a hint of ease over having to do this. “Only, I hope you don’t mean all the way back as I very much enjoy the occasional text message.” 

“Me too.” Selina smiled, and genuinely too even despite the pain blooming in her once cold chest. 

She’d never had true feelings for someone before. Never had the opportunity to and in all honesty she was kind of glad for it otherwise she’d have been subjected to a lifetime of feeling like this. Empty and numb, yet at the same time overcome with immense heartache. 

“I just think it’s better if we stick to that side of things… Before someone gets hurt.” Like me, Selina added mentally. 

“Of course, darling.” Crowley agreed, barely as it was taking everything in him not to fight for her. But like she said, someone could get hurt and given the darkness still lingering inside him he wouldn’t be the one getting the shorter end of that stick and he’d be damned if he burdened Selina with it either.

Best they both go about feeling equally as disappointed over the outcome of this moment than one feeling worse than the other. At least that way Crowley would sleep better at night. Figuratively of course. Unless he had Selina tucked safely by his side then he’d never sleep, but as the saying goes and all that. 

“Well I should probably leave.” Selina sighed, forcing herself to step away from Crowley and his intoxicating nature. 

Only, she didn’t move more than a few inches back before it started getting difficult. Like seriously, did he have a magnet in his pocket or something because why the Hell was it so hard for her to move away from him? She sucked in a breath, her eyes flicking down to his lips that she was so badly drawn to. 

Fuck it, Selina thought to herself. What harm would one more kiss do? 

Other than make leaving all the more difficult. But it’s not like she was even thinking about that as before Selina knew it her lips were back on Crowley’s once more. He grabbed hold of her waist, securing her against his body and relishing in the slow drag of her fingers through his hair as she lost any and all control over herself.

“I must say darling, you and I have very different definitions of leaving.” 

“Shut up and keep kissing me.” Selina was quick to take his lips in hers again, happily allowing him to take control whilst she did nothing but indulge in her plainly obvious weakness before she truly had to leave. 

If this is how she planned to go about things then Crowley wasn’t about to say no. No matter how loud his thoughts were telling him to. His tongue delved deeper into her mouth of its own accord, tasting every single taste present on her own and bringing her to a state of heightened bliss that she never wanted to fall from.

“I’m not known for my self-restraint, Selina.” Crowley said breathlessly between kisses, his beard scratching over Selina’s skin in a way that had her hum softly into his mouth and make him all the more unable to control himself. But he did warn her, which is why she appeared to have no issue with him backing her up against a pillar. 

Thankfully the sound of a door opening pulled them apart before things could get too steamy, Dean’s voice echoing throughout the building as he called out, “Cat, let’s go already! What’s the hold up?”

Crowley vanished, along with the bodies of the former hostage takers, leaving Selina to think on her feet as to an explanation for what was keeping her. She couldn’t exactly tell Dean the truth otherwise he’d kill Crowley and lock her in the dungeon, accusing her of being hopped up on demon blood or something equally as idiotic. 

In a minor fluster she pulled her phone from her pocket, almost dropping it in her haste to raise it to her ear where she was just in time to babble out some words before Dean came rounding the corner towards her, eyebrows raised as he expected an explanation for her dawdling. 

“Just do what Jody tells you and you’ll be fine.” Selina said, motioning for Dean to give her a second as she played this off. And of course Dean just rolled his eyes, allowing her to sign off on her pretend phone call with Claire before turning her attention towards him. “Sorry… Lost track of time.”

“You don’t say.” Dean scoffed, eyes casting over the warehouse to see the bodies gone and to that he couldn’t help but smile a little. Perhaps they’d be calling Crowley more often if it meant no cleaning up. “Hurry it up will you? I’m starving.”

“No surprises there.” Selina mumbled, making her move towards the direction of the door when Dean shoved her a little. She managed to keep her footing, firing a glare over her shoulder at him as she straightened her jacket and smoothed down her hair. 

That had been far too close for comfort, she thought to herself. It was bad enough that she’d almost let Crowley absolutely ravish her in a dirty, old warehouse but with her brothers waiting for her outside? That was a danger even in itself and if she wanted to avoid her own stint in the dungeon and Crowley's untimely demise then she’d need to be more careful. 

And by that she meant absolutely no more kissing the King of Hell. But you know what they say… Things are a whole lot easier said than done and when it came to Crowley, Selina would quickly find out just how much of a weakness he truly was.

Chapter 10 ->

[writethelifeyouwant]

Monsterfucking

Summary: Hi, my name is Dean Winchester. I’m an Aquarius, I enjoy sunsets, long walks on the beach and monsterfucking.

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Benny Lafitte Rating: 18 Tags: Omegaverse, Purgatory, Monsterfucking, Alpha!Benny, Alpha!Dean, Top!Benny, Bottom!Dean, Bi!Benny, Bi!Dean, Outdoor Sex, Oral Sex, Brief Blood Kink (he’s a vampire guys, what did you expect) Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Knotting Word Count: 2,389 Bingo Squares: @spndeanbingo - Trying Something New | @j3bingo - Alpha | @spnabobingo - Non-Traditional Alpha Traits

Created for: @there-must-be-a-lock’s 4k Fics Against Humanity challenge! My prompts fit together soooo perfectly, and the lovely Lou suggested Benny as the monster of choice, so here we are! Happy New Year, and here’s to starting how we mean to go on - with filthy, filthy smut.

Benny made a welcome change to the monotony of Purgatory for Dean. He didn’t mind the outdoors living, and he even welcomed the constant monster killing, but he hated being left alone with only his thoughts for company. The pair of them didn’t talk about much, but the chatter was enough to fill the silence of the forest and distract Dean from pining for the world he’d left behind, topside. Benny had also given him a mission, a goal to aim for beyond survival; he had given Dean hope of a way out.

Except it was taking them a fucking long ass time to get to this magic fucking door. And two alphas on the road together for this long, with not a single omega anywhere to be found, was starting to present a problem.

At first, Dean had wondered if maybe things would work differently in Purgatory. There was no need for breeding cycles in a place like this, so maybe he wouldn’t get his rut at all. Time was difficult to keep track of here, so he wasn’t sure when to expect it, if it was even coming, and for a time he’d forgotten all about it. Then he began to catch a new scent on the air after he and Benny had begun travelling together.

Benny’s scent grew stronger and stronger as the light grey day pressed on into dark grey night, but neither of them mentioned it. Dean could smell salt water and weather worn wood, and something sharper but slightly sweet and sugary warm – rum, maybe, he thought. When they lay down to sleep that night, side by side like always, Benny’s scent began to choke Dean, curling into his lungs on the back of the smoke from their fire, and searing his nerves until they were raw and bristling.

“So, what are we gonna do about this?” Dean grunted, forcing the words through the cloying haze that had leaked into his throat. Benny laughed softly, glancing over in his companion’s direction.

“Well, unless you’ve got something you haven’t told me,” the vampire smirked as his eyes flicked down to the lower half of Dean’s body, “nothin’ much we can do, brotha.” Benny shrugged, obviously resigned to the inevitability of his circumstances. Dean wondered how many ruts Benny had struggled through solo since he’d gotten his head taken off in the real world.

“There’s no ‘megas crawling around this hellhole?” Dean checked, curious on his own behalf as well. If Benny was going into rut, that meant he would too, eventually.

“None that aren’t just as likely to bite your cock off as they are to take a knot,” Benny chuckled.

“Don’t haveta use their mouths,” Dean grinned ruefully, but he took Benny’s point. Sleeping with the enemy wasn’t gonna get them out of this one.

“Oh yeah? You gonna hold one down for me long enough to knot? Keep ‘em there the whole time we’re tied so they don’t pull my cock off? Not fuckin’ likely,” he snorted derisively. “Plus we’d have to hunt one down, first, and I’m gon’ be in rough shape pretty soon. Not the best time to go trawlin’ these godforsaken trees lookin’ for a slick hole.”

“So what, I’m just s’pposed to sit around and protect your ass while you dry hump a pile of leaves for a week?” Dean demanded incredulously.

“You got a betta idea, cher?” Benny raised a stern brow in Dean’s direction, as if to say ‘shut up and live with it’, but Dean didn’t shut up, and his mouth said the word before his brain had thought it through properly.

“Yeah!” he scoffed.

Benny’s other brow raised to join its mate.

“Well, do enlighten me.”

Dean shifted uncomfortably on the forest floor, shot the vampire a nervous glance. Benny was sitting up and looking down at the hunter, expectation illuminated on his face in the flickering light of the campfire. Dean cleared his throat.

“If you’re after a week of hardcore sex, let me in on the action too.” His voice pitched up at the end as his resolve faltered and Benny’s eyes flashed wide and hungry in the wavering shadows.

“Never met an alpha who was an ass man,” Benny finally grunted, and Dean shrugged as casually as he could.

“Nothin’ wrong with it,” he defended, but his voice betrayed his nerves. Of course there wasn’t anything wrong with an alpha male enjoying anal sex, but it was unusual, and Benny was from a different time, he might be a lot more old fashioned than Dean.

“No,” Benny muttered eventually, gaze raking itself over Dean’s body, still prostrate before him on the ground. “No, nothin’ wrong with it at all.” Dean felt his cock throb as the pitch of Benny’s voice dropped, the rough Louisiana timbre deepening into a growl that radiated Alpha. Benny’s nose twitched, interested, and Dean could smell the shift in the air too as his own arousal made itself known – warm leather, dusky gun oil, and the sweet caramel of whiskey – scents that melded remarkably well with Benny’s own markers.

“Well, what’re you waitin’ for, boy? Get them britches down,” the vampire grunted, going for his own buttons. Dean rolled his eyes but there was no point starting a scrap over something he suggested – something he wanted, if he was being perfectly honest with himself. It had been far too long since he’d had a good fuck.

“How many times you done this before?” Benny asked with mild curiosity as they stripped down for each other.

Dean gave the other man a once over, not at all surprised to find he liked what he saw. Benny was broad, toned, and in possession of another monster all his own – Dean hoped to God that one wouldn’t sprout fangs.

“Enough to know I like it,” Dean answered smugly, “so long as the person with the knot knows how to use it.”

“Oh, I don’t think that’ll be a problem,” the vampire grinned, running a hand over his cock and starting to jerk it while he looked over Dean’s own naked body, cock starting to chub up between his legs under Benny’s gaze.

“You’ve never fucked an alpha before though, right?” Dean reached down and took himself in hand, relaxing back and looking to the side where Benny was still sitting, and shot him a challenging gaze.

“I’m sure I’ll be able to handle it,” Benny smirked, “never opposed to tryin’ somethin’ new.”

“Then why don’t you get your ass over here and show me?” Dean quipped. His snark had the desired effect, because Benny pounced forward and straddled Dean in a heartbeat, rutting their cocks together between their two bodies. Their grunts echoed softly in the forest clearing as Dean bucked beneath the man on top of him, hands scrabbling for purchase in the strong muscles of Benny’s back, scratching deeply into the skin.

“Careful, boy,” Benny hissed against Dean’s neck, and the hunter quivered when he felt the sharp prod of fangs against the skin of his throat.

“If you bite me,” Dean moaned brokenly as Benny’s hand made its way between their legs, skimming low to his goal in the damp cleft between Dean’s cheeks, “I’ll chop your head off.”

“Ah, c’mon,” Benny laughed-groaned, fingertips pressing hesitantly against Dean’s hole. “Just a nibble?”

His fangs scraped through Dean’s stubble, and the human tensed instinctively, summoning all his strength and throwing the monster off of him. He scrambled to his knees, panting and snarling in Benny’s direction. Benny threw his head back and laughed throatily, coughing a little as the breath settled oddly in his chest.

“I was fuckin’ with you,” he smiled threateningly but Dean saw the set of vamp fangs begin to retract, and he relaxed a little. “Stay on your knees though, boy, that’s a good look for you.”

Before Dean could think of a retort, Benny had summoned some of his supernatural speed to propel his forwards and onto his feet so his cock was level with Dean’s mouth.

“You sucked an alpha’s cock before, too?” Benny grinned down, tapping himself smartly against Dean’s lips. Dean glared up at him, and the vampire pulled back for a moment, leaning down so he was face to face with the human and yanking him back by his hair. “And if you bite me, I’ll chop your head off. Got that, cher?”

Deciding not to dignify that with a verbal response, Dean pushed Benny off of him and grabbed for the monster dick, pulling it to his lips, not wasting time before he gagged himself on it. Benny groaned and fisted his fingers in Dean’s shaggy hair, holding him in place and fucking the man’s throat vigourously.

“You weren’t kidding, you have done this before,” Benny chuckled breathlessly, pulling out of Dean’s throat so he could demonstrate some other oral skills. Dean pulled off the dick with a cough and licked down his shaft, laving over the stones at he base while he caught his breath.

“Cock’s a cock,” he grunted, kissing back along Benny’s length towards the crown. “Don’ matter if it’s attached to an alpha or ‘mega.”

“You get down on your knees like a little bitch for omegas?” Benny barked with delight, eyes lighting up. “You ain’t like no other alpha I’ve eva met, boy.”

“That’s ‘cause most alphas are too cowardly to take what they want,” Dean glared up at Benny with a sharp pride in his eyes. “Bet deep down you’re just as scared as all the rest of ‘em.”

Dean landed with a grunt on his back as Benny’s knee collided with his chin. Blood filled his mouth where he’d bitten his tongue and he coughed it out onto his chest. Looking up, he saw Benny’s eyes go dark, and his fangs struggled to break loose of his jaw, but to Dean’s surprise he reigned himself in. Then the vampire was on his hands and knees above the hunter and licking broad stripes up Dean’s chest to collect the blood that had pooled there. Benny licked his way up Dean’s neck and into the man’s mouth, moaning as he sucked on Dean’s tongue and bloodied lip in a monstrous imitation of a kiss.

“Get off’a me,” Dean grunted, pushing Benny’s shoulders back so he could manoeuvre himself around onto his own hands and knees. “We’re not here for the romantic shit, fuck me or fuck off.”

He leant down and braced his head on his forearms, knowing the position would show off the relevant assets for this exercise. Benny got the message, thumbing over Dean’s hole again, pressing his finger in gently as the muscle fluttered around him.

“Shame you’re not an omega,” he mused from behind Dean. “This hole would look real pretty all slicked up and dripping f’me.”

“Well you better get it that way before you put that cock anywhere near me, bitey,” Dean snapped, squeezing reflexively around Benny’s thumb. “You ain’t fuckin’ me dry.”

“Guess you are an alpha,” Benny grunted, spitting on Dean’s ass and watching it drip down between the cheeks, “you’re a fuckin’ bossy little bitch.”

“And you call me bitch one more time, you won’t be fuckin’ me at all. I’ll tie you to the nearest tree and let you rut yourself bloody on the trunk. Alpha monster like you, probably won’t be able to stop yourself.”

Two spit-slick fingers shoved into Dean’s body, shutting him up with a loud groan. They fucked into him mercilessly for a moment before withdrawing again, and he felt more spit drip down the lengths, slicking him up for the main event. Before long they were both getting impatient, and without nearly enough prep, Dean began begging Benny to put it in.

“Oh, eager little alpha, are we?” Benny jeered, but he was equally as eager to comply with Dean’s demands.

“Just fuck me already,” Dean groaned as Benny teased the tip of his dick around the puffy, pink hole he’d been ravishing with his fingers for the past few minutes.

“Well, since ya asked so nice,” Benny shoved forward and Dean howled but bucked himself back onto the intrusion, his body drinking it in greedily. “Fuck yeah, that’s a good alpha,” he crooned, rocking into Dean and draping his body over the hunter’s back. “Yeah, fuckin’ take it boy.”

“What the fuck d’ya think I’m doin’,” Dean ground out through clenched teeth, his eyes rolling back into his head as Benny rubbed against the bundle of nerves that made getting fucked in the ass so worthwhile. “Oh, fuck yeah, do that again,” he demanded.

“Bossy, bossy,” Benny grunted, punctuating each word with another thrust and pulling more and more whimpering groans from the man beneath him. “C-can ya reach your jacket?” he panted after a few minutes of furious thrusting.

“Just about, why?” Dean grunted, bracing himself on his elbow to reach for the discarded garment and pull it to him.

“‘Cause I’m ‘bout to knot. Wan’ you t’have a pillow or something.”

“How considerate,” Dean groaned, reaching down to jerk himself off so he could finish with the vampire, but Benny batted his hand away.

“Don’ you dare,” he growled.

“Why the fuck not?” Dean demanded, of half a mind to buck Benny off and leave him to knot his fist.

“Because after I’m done with you, I wan’ a try. You’re havin’ too much fuckin’ fun down there,” he groaned, and Dean felt the knot beginning to swell at the base of Benny’s cock start to nudge against him.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Dean grinned to himself, reaching back between his legs to finish himself. “Real alphas like me can knot a bitch however many times they need it. Plus if I cum now, you’ll have something better than spit to use for your first time.”

They both howled as Benny’s knot popped and tied him to Dean, the hunter cumming in hard spurts into his own fist as he felt the vampire filling him up. They collapsed together, Dean’s head landing on his jacket-pillow and Benny resting his head on Dean’s shoulder, his breath coming in ho, humid puffs against his sweat damp skin.

“Fuck this is gon’ be a good rut,” Benny grunted after a few moments of silence, and they burst out laughing.

[minshookie]

Late night hookup

| Yoongi |

Warning! || 18+ smutty smut smut, fuckboy!yoongi, unprotected sex, oral fem receiving, cum eating, fem masturbation, rough sex, vocal Yoongi 🤤

[ jin • Yoongi • Hoseok • Joon • Jimin • Taehyung • Jungkook ]

You’d opened his contact for the 14th time in the past hour, down bad was an understatement for you at the moment.

It’s the fact that you knew he was in town, it’s also the fact that he chose to ignore you that made you upset, yet you yearned for his harsh touch.

Text first maybe? You put your phone to rest, your independence wouldn’t dare let you give into the temptation, if he wanted you he’d be here. And you’d ignore him until he made up his mind.

One thing that wouldn’t be ignored though, is the ache settling in your core, rolling onto your back bringing your thighs together to apply pressure to no avail. He’s never there when he’s needed.

Separating, you let your fingertips massage over the dampened fabric finding the lazy ovals you were accomplishing pleasurable. Just before you could indulge your phone chimed.

“You awake?”

You could scream in happiness! Your late horny wishes have been heard.

“Yeah, welcome back in town, how are you!”

“Excited to see me? You’re horny huh?”

Once an ass always an ass, he’d beat around the bush until all the leaves fell off before he’d give a straight answer.

“Yeah, get over here.”

“Get some help y/n,I’d think that you’d find someone new already.”

“Are you coming to fuck me, or can i continue to finger myself...you interrupted me.”

“Impatient little thing you are, sure continue, but open the door when I get there.”

Tossing the phone to the corner of your bed you rolled off changing shirts to look sightly presentable.

Skipping like and lovesick schoolgirl you cleaned the living room like he’d even notice the scatter of classwork and pillows if you’d left it. Setting drinks up on the table you anticipated your 2 AM date.

His knock undeniable, you pranced to the door pulling it open letting in the dusk breeze, “hey, you look different.” you looked his stature up and down, “and you look tired.” He quips pulling you into him his chilled hand wrapped around you neck. Kissing you, his taste never changed liquor and mint, he explored you like he’s been hungry for you. “Still don’t know how to kiss? Fucking virgin.” He bullied walking into your apartment removing his heavy shoes.

“Can you stop being an ass Yoongi.” He threw himself in the couch watching you primarily as you closed the door, gong to the kitchen before his statement stoped you. “I don’t care about the tea party you set up in there, get over here.”

Legs spread his hand rested inside of his black sweats. Obliging you went to him, only here for one thing, and he was ready to get it as quick as he could, “wanna lay on the couch for me?” The pounding in your chest persistent, knowing fully what’s to come. Letting your back hit the couch, he threw your decretive pillows. “Miss me?” He freed you from your panties, letting his limber fingers massage you collecting your slickness. “C’mon speak up.” “Yeah I did, you miss me?” You breathed out in impatience. “Like hell.”

“You play with this while imagining me when I’m away?” Sensually he stroked your bundle of never earning a physical reaction. “Honestly?” “Mm yeah tell me.” Vulgarly he spit on your mound before continuing to toy with you. “I think about your little friends more than I imagine you.” You lied for his reaction, thoughts of Yoongi swam in your head more than you’d like to admit.

“Liar.” He entered you with his index and pointer, whimpering to show your appreciation. Moving back and forth rotating his wrist ever so slightly. “Tell me this though.” He changed his tactics now rapidly stroking the most sensitive area inside of you. “This still make you cum cutie?” He jokes obviously watching you buck at his skilled fingers movement. Staying in place he gave you the treat of massaging the area into your first orgasm of the night. Your stomach clenched and you griped around him unintentionally. “Mmhhm fucking hate you.” Insulting him was a regular during orgasm and he enjoyed it. He continues forcing more pleasure on you as you cum.

A cocky grin plasters his features, “I guess it does.” He leaned coming face to face with your core, still pulsating. “Sensitive little thing still, I would’ve thought you’d grow from that.” He latched onto your clit causing you to prop yourself on your elbow in surprise. “Yoongi fucking wait.” You pushed his head to no result he licked and sucked on your clit with no mercy. “Ah fuck please Yoongi.” He looked up his dark eyes commanding you as he let go. “Done for the night?” You shook your head no, “just a little sen-” “nothing new.” He went back down, lapping at your sopping entrance with hunger and lust, grunts erupted from him.

With better leverage he enters you with his tongue prodding you like you’ve missed oh so bad. It seems like he left and came back better than he’s ever been at this. It was muffled but you understood his dirty comments. “Fucking cum in my mouth, you’re gonna taste it bitch.” Moving back to your clit he flicked quickly replacing his fingers, rubbing your tender sweet spot. Eyebrows furrowed in focus he closed his fiery eyes. “Shit! Shit! Ahhh shit!” Squirming inches from succumbing to your second orgasm. You griped his styled hair pulling him deeper onto your cunt. He latched sucking you, your stomach tightening.

Finishing messily onto his digits and lips. “Fuck Min, who gave you lessons in Korea?” You heaved legs wide needy for more. Ignoring your comment he connected his lips with yours not giving you time to breath. purposely kissing you sloppily making sure he spread your nectar along your tongue and lips. “Sweet?” You nodded, bucking, begging for him subtlety.

“What next baby, ask for it,what do you want?” He took off the sweats fully commando underneath, he stroked himself collecting his precum and bringing it to your mouth. “I know you’re filthy. Eat it.” You suck his fingers, and he visibly holds back a groan. “Fuck me, that’s what I want.” You answer seductively.

You got up from the couch, grabbing his shirt bringing him to your bedroom, “bigger bed?” “Yeah, you like it?” You crawled on top, putting your ass in the air cheekily. “It’s your turn to buy the pill.” He laughed at your random outburst, “shut the fuck up already.” He got behind you aligning and plunging into you a groan of enjoyment coming from him. “Always so fucking tight.”

Gaining a grip he bottoms you out earning a squeal. “Nice a full? Ready to fuck?” You could hear his impatience, you nodded in response. “Damn it y/n speak baby.” He griped your ass harshly. “Just do it already!”he pulled out completely hooking you with his arm rolling you onto your back pulling your shirt off with your assistance.

“I have been thinking of you in this position ever since we landed.” Pushing your legs up, “hold them with your arms...please.” Obliging to his lustful wishes, on your back legs bound by your arms, everything vulnerable on display for him.

Getting comfortable he entered you, bottoming you out throwing his head back. “Tighter than before, you’ll fucking kill me.” He fucked into you sensually keeping a grip on the back of your thighs, “feel good? Wanna- oh shit.” Tightening around him he fucked into you harshly, the lewd smacking sound something that was very missed.

Resting his forearm next to your head, dominantly he gripped a handful of your hair, letting his head fall at you ear shamelessly moaning into it. “Mm so good y/n, you’re too good.” Picking up speed making your breath trap itself in your throat. “Tell me-mm tell me.”unable to respond to his commands you whimpered in a sorry excuse for response.

By the change in tone you could tell he’s close to finishing off, while in the chase for his high, he pulled your hair harsher. Placing his other hand on your sensitive clit. “Fuck!” Pulling back up he removed his hand from your locks placing them on the back of your thighs his pace giving a little slack.

His eyes closed thumb massaging you assisting you to orgasm. “You better fucking cum.” He gritted.

He continued his rough thrust until he hit his peak “oh fuck me!” Whining he spilled inside of you as you tightened around his member once again lost in his gift of euphoria.

He pulled out of you sweat dripping over his features his seed warmly gushed from you. He removed his shirt the heat getting the best of him.

His member already half mast. He got up stretching before striding to the bathroom. “ don’t move.” You could care less what he just said, your senses still draped in pleasure. Though certain thoughts threatened to pull your lustful high. “Your legs or arms cramping?” He came back cleaning you up, using a colder cloth you cool your sweaty limbs. “Left leg.” He pulled you from the folded position massaging your leg and thigh.

“Too rough?” “Not enough.” He laughed under his breath, “noted.” He let go of your limb standing from the bed, leaving the room.

Though not exclusive your heart still aches for him slightly. “I’m leaving.” He came back with his sweats and shoes on, grabbing his shirt. “Oh, I pulled out some of my best alcohol and you leave?”

He smiled kissing your drenched forehead, why did he love torturing you. “Yeah, I got a busy day tomorrow.” He sighed pulling his shirt over himself. Groaning you rolled over out of the bed, pulling on a large shirt, “I’ll walk you to your car.” Obliging you followed him out.

Walking side to side, in silence until you both left the building standing in front of his pricey sports car. “You know you never gave me that ride.” He grasped your waist lifting you onto the hood, darkness shields you both.

“Mm tomorrow If I’m not tired, we’ll go get something...ice cream?”

“Stop acting like my boyfriend Min.”

“That’s what you want though, right?”

Sighing you felt uncomfortable when pressed with the truth.

“Well I’m sorry y/n but I can’t be, acting is the best you’ll get.”

“I know...so, who’s your best fuck back home?”

“Haha, some real pretty girl that you don’t need to ask about....but don’t worry, I cum and think of you.”

He laughs at your visible discomfort.

“You’re literally disgusting.”

Any and All feedback is greatly appreciated! !

[sinfulx]

4:16am

[4:16am] bang. dabi was startled, he opened his eyes, turning to the old, barely functional alarm clock. 4:16am. His thought process was all over the place, pulling the cotton sheets off his body, he decided to get up and check what it was. maybe a stray cat? or a pesky hero might have finally found him. either way, the noise that just happened a minute ago was bugging him. he opened his bedroom door, yawning as he walked out of his bedroom and into the hallway. he assumed the noise came from the kitchen. he kept walking, he kept moving towards the noise that might just end his life, but he wasn’t positive now was he? finally escaping the dark, eerie hallway, he took a few steps into the living room & kitchen. the apartment was open, one story, so the kitchen and living room were connected. he noticed the dimmed kitchen light was turned on, and the fridge was open. [4:18am] fear. your body was in shock, staring at the raven-haired man, with piercing cerulean eyes. all you could feel was the sense of unsafeness. you had a piece of sliced bread in your mouth, you looked stupid, like a dumb mutt who just so happened to break into a house with a wanted villain inside. you were in the fridge, searching for food. you didn’t have a home, you didn’t have a job. you lived on the streets, but it didn’t surprise anyone, your parents made you this way, didn’t they? “who the fuck are you?” he asked, clearly annoyed. you quickly closed the fridge door, the piece of bread falling from your mouth as you yelped. “i’m sorry! i’m sorry! i’ll leave!” you begged and pleaded, you knew who he was, you knew his abilities, how could you be so stupid? he stepped closer, while you were backing away. he sensed your fear, as if you were prey and he was the predator. “see? i’m leaving, please don’t hurt me!” your pleads were becoming frantic as you headed for the door, running away from him. he grabbed your arm as you reached for the door. [4:24am] shock. your body couldn’t move, he had you pressed against his chest, almost as if it was a hug, but you knew better than that. he held your hand, guiding you somewhere, you two walked down the hallway, the lightbulbs needed to be changed but it didn’t bother him, nor did it bother you. there was dreaded silence between you and him, you even swore you could hear your heartbeat. he opened the door slightly, pushing you in. he immediately slammed it shut and locked it. “clean up.” he stated, you were still trying to process everything. you flicked the light switch to see a bathroom, it wasn’t in the best shape, but it was functional. you were confused, you thought he was gonna hold you hostage, or even worse, kill you. there was some shampoo and conditioner in the shower, you checked the cabinets to find boxed hair dye, the ones you’d find at dollar general. you quickly closed the cabinet, sensing he might notice if you touched anything. you stared in the mirror, maybe he noticed that you were filthy and living on the streets. it wasn’t hidden, you had scuffs of dirty all over your clothing and your hair was matted and messy. you pulled down your pants & underwear, carefully slipping the shirt over your head and throwing it on the ground with the rest. you stepped in the shower, turning the dial to hot, you felt warm water trickle down on your body, it felt nice and relaxing. you opened the bottle of shampoo, pouring some on your hand. with your empty hand, you closed the bottle and put it away. carefully, you massaged the shampoo in your hair, rinsing it with the shower head. your grabbed the washcloth, using some soap, you cleaned your body. you then rinsed everything off, once you were all done and cleaned, you turned off the shower. [4:36am] calming. once you were done and dried, you slipped on some of his clothing, his clothes didn’t fit you right, but they were soft and warm, so it didn’t matter, now did it? you flicked the light off, opening the door. you saw his bedroom door was open, peeking in, he was sitting on the bed. “you mind sleeping on the couch?” he asked, you nodded, but before turning away, a question still lingered, “why are you letting me stay with you?” you stutter a little, letting out the question as he groaned. “doll, would you rather be on the streets?” he looked at you, you shook your head in response. he nodded. “then get on the bed and sleep.” he stated, laying down and pulling the cotton sheets over him. you climbed into the bed, it was soft and finally, you felt peace. it felt calm, you felt safe. you pulled the cotton sheets over your body, and scooched next to him, burying your head in his chest as he groaned, he wanted to move you, but instead, he didn’t. “thank you, ‘m tired” your voice was muffed as you slowly drifted to sleep. “me too, doll.” he rubbed his eyes, putting an arm over you, and sleep finally took over.

[potter-imagines]

Off Limits (Draco Malfoy)

Summary: Y/n and Draco Malfoy have been secretly crushing on one another for quite some time. Draco and his friends notoriously taunt students, especially Gryffindors. So why is Y/n, a Gryffindor, off limits? What happens when a friend attempts to harass Y/n?

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x reader

Disclaimer: Anyone else on DracoTok ??? Set in fourth year (no mentions of tri-wizard tournament, sorry saving it for later) xx 

Warnings: Little bit of bullying (hp edition bullying)

Word Count: 4.5k

“Y/n… are you alright? That was your third cup of tea- you’re going to be jittering out of your seat in Charms!”

Through the bustle of her thoughts a worrisome voice tore Y/n from her daydream. The Great Hall was bouncing with energy. All houses were scarving up their lunch as the chatter filled the enormous room. Y/n sat quietly with her fellow Gryffindor classmates.

Physically she was sitting with her friends but mentally, she was across the table sitting with the bleached blonde Slytherin Prince himself. It was a recurring game between the two. Stolen admiration and stares. Words were rarely exchanged, and neither could answer why. Draco had told her once he wished she was in Slytherin, but otherwise they only spoke together when necessary. She made him nervous, and it was a feeling he didn’t like. He found himself worrying over the unfamiliar emotions he felt towards her. Both being too scared to act on their feelings, it all went unspoken.

Her attention has been drawn on him for the last 20 minutes. She casually sipped on her tea, filling her cup back up each time it grew bare. The warm of the lavender brew kissed her taste buds and slithered down her throat, emanating her body in a hug.

It wasn’t until her curly haired friend placed a hand on her shoulder that she was forced to look away.

Hermione was in the middle of an argument with Ron over who was to blame for Gryffindor losing ten points during Potions. Snape loathed the house so it was no surprise to anyone when he eagerly took points away when Ron’s cauldron exploded and split in two. Hermione paused when she noticed her best friend staring intently behind her.

Y/n sent her a quick reassuring smile and said,

“I’m fine, Hermione. Just thinking.”

Harry was busy rushing to finish his Charms paper before next period. He would add a comment every few minutes but was removed from the conversation for the most part. Ron interjected himself into the conversation as he shoveled a load of mashed potatoes into his mouth,

“More like worrying. What’s got your knickers in a twist, Y/n?”

Y/n winced as she got a full view of his meal in his open mouth. Y/n could hear Hermione gasp as she reached forward to smack Ron on the arm. He gave her a look of bewilderment, clearly not expecting her reaction.

“Ron! Dear Merlin, have some manners.” Hermione’s eyes were wide as she glared at the red head. Ron just shrugged and resumed with his meal. Steam rose from his plate and if she wasn’t so mentally withdrawn, Y/n would’ve been happily digging into the feast. There was not a day that goes by where Hogwarts meals fail to impress.

Although the uneasy feeling building in her stomach did not allow this. It was almost nauseating to be surrounded by the delicious foods. Y/n leaned forward towards the table and pursed her lips. Her e/c eyes looked past Hermione, as if she was invisible, and landed on the rambunctious table behind her. A small wisp of white flashed behind Hermione and Y/n felt her heart leap in her chest.

Her maroon sweater clung loosely to her body. It was Friday so there was no hassle over her neglecting her robes. Rubbing her thumb against the sleeve Y/n allowed herself a moment to wander. She thought of Draco. How it would feel to hold his hand. To lay in his arms and run her hands through his snow white locks. To take late night adventures with him around the castle after hours. To be his rock and hear all the little thoughts running rampant in his head. To be his.

A far off thought, yes but a girl’s allowed to imagine right?

Cautionless the young witch sitting before Y/n whipped her head around to see what was captivating her friend so much. Expecting to see a dinosaur with a shark’s head, as she had never seen her friend so mesmerized, Hermione furrowed her dark brows in confusion as she scanned the scene. All she saw was the annoying table of Slytherin’s and a gloomy, cloudy sky outside the windows. Draco and his friends were loudly talking, Hermione rolled her eyes at his. They never failed to annoy her. Most of the students sitting in the group infuriated her. Pansy was constantly harassing Hermione with her cruel words and bothersome antics. Crabbe and Goyle took more interest in pestering Ron and Harry but they still found a way to get to her as well. Draco was the worst of all cause he seemed to be in charge of all the taunting and hell. Sure, since the start of the group's fourth year in the fall he had laid off, but not completely. Snarde comments were thrown here and there but the intensity had decreased.

The oddest part of it was none of Draco’s wrath was ever placed on Y/n. Crabbe, Goyle, and Pansy got their insults in on her daily but never Draco. There were times Hermione caught him scolding his friends in the courtyard for a comment they made towards Y/n and it baffled her.

She hadn’t noticed she was staring- or rather searching- for very long until Pansy’s sharp, hateful eyes caught hers.

“What’d you think you’re staring at, mudblood?” The sneering Slytherin glared dangerously at Hermione. Pansy sat between Draco and Blaise, the corner of her lip lifted as if she was growling at Hermione. Her hands were clutching the wood of the table ready to pounce. The loud conversation died down as the surrounding Slytherin’s and Gryffindor’s listened in, half out of amusement and the other out of fear.

“Are you gonna answer me or just sit there looking dumb with your iditot friends? Huh?” Her thin brows lifted towards the ceiling, intimidation emanating off her skin. Y/n winced in guilt. Hermione was only curious as to what caught her attention and now she was caught in Pansy’s.

“If anything dumb is the most lazy insult you could use against Hermione. If I remember correctly she’s the top of our class and if I can remember correctly, you’re number 36 out of 40. Did I get that right?”

“You filthy little blood traitor, you’re gonna regret-” Pansy had shot up like a predator ready to kill their prey. Y/n was almost certain she saw flames burning in Pansy’s dark orbs. Gasps emerged as students readied themselves for a fight. Ron was frozen in shock, no help at all, only stunned. Harry had only rejoined the conversation when Pansy’s wrath began, making him just as taken back as Ron. Y/n knew this wouldn’t end well but she couldn’t handle Pansy berating her friends for game. Just as the devilish Slytherin threw her leg over the bench, Draco snatched her arm stopping her actions all in one move. A noticeably screech came from her lips from the pain of his grip. Her fists were clenched by her side and her plans were obvious to the whole crowd. By this point, everyone in the Great Hall was watching the mess unfold.

The brunette girl snapped her head to the leader of their group. Her gaze screamed ‘let me go’ but Draco was not about to let that happen.

“Pansy, shut up and sit. You’re not gonna do anything.”

“Draco she just-” Suddenly Pansy was forced back into her seat causing a loud thump. Draco practically shoved her into compliance snarling in the process. If the scenario had been different, Y/n might’ve giggled at Pansy’s befuddlement. Even Blaise was astonished! The tension was too thick for a laugh to lighten any moods.

“I said, shut up and sit down.” His words were final. The girl now coward under his icy stare. If looks could kill, Pansy would be 6 feet under by the hands of Draco Malfoy. The silence was uncomfortable and no one wanted to be the first to make the next move. Shakily, Pansy grabbed her fork and resumed eating, pretending she didn’t just get humiliated in front of the entire school.

Y/n remained focused on Draco, studying his expression. His eye remained glued to Pansy but not in a loving way. The rage in his eyes could be seen from the moon. He was testing her, installing fear in her. When he decided his message stuck, he turned away and looked forward at the h/c witch sitting across from him. Y/n’s body shuttered at his movement and quickly looked to Hermione. A wave of electricity ran down her spine. He felt it too. Draco’s gaze stayed fixed on Y/n unable to tear away. He spent a lot of time staring at her, examining her features, although he took these stolen glances when she wasn’t looking. This time he knew she saw him, the only difference is he didn’t care. A part of him hoped her doe eyes would move back to his somber ones.

“What just happened?” Ron was the first to speak up among the table. Y/n could feel the endless pairs of eyes on her. It seemed everyone was seeking answers.

“I have no bloody clue.” She mumbled. Hermione reached out and tugged on Y/n’s hand, a silent thank you. A small gleam tugged on Y/n’s lips as she squeezed her hand back. Lifting her head she found the familiar pair of stormy eyes. This time, she didn’t look away.

Rain drops kissed the stone of the castle as a storm brewed outside. A continuous thump played on repeat. It was a soothing lull to Y/n as she walked back to her dorm from the library. The last few hours she was cozied into an armchair staring out the window. Her initial intentions were to study but after an hour of skimming through her Potions textbook and feeling more lost than ever, she gave up and lost herself in the weather.

Most students were busy socializing, it was a Saturday night after all. Harry, Ron and Hermione begged Y/n to join them at the Gryffindor party for 4th years and ups but she politely declined. Typically she’d tag along and set aside some time to enjoy herself but for the night, she preferred to be alone. Ever since her odd encounter with Draco and him defending her, she had a difficult time controlling her thoughts. He seemed to be the only thing occupying her thoughts.

The corridors were empty for the most part. A few giddy students tipsy off firewhisky rushed by her. She was approaching the staircase towards the common room when the calling of her name stopped her in her tracks.

Y/n clutched her books to her chest and she turned around. The hallway appeared empty, though the crashing rain made it hard to hear. Y/n wrote it off as her imagination and resumed her walk. Her cheeks were rosy from the harsh breeze sweeping the grounds. She decided on a detour wanting to delay her arrival in the common room. Fred and George would surely convince her to join in the partying and she wasn’t in the mood for that at the moment.

Y/n’s steps clicked against the ground filling the empty void. Bright flames created lighting in the halls guiding Y/n on her journey. Her feet carried her around effortlessly, the destination still undecided.

If it were a weekday, she wouldn’t be able to make it a few feet wandering around this late without a perfect stopping her. She was scolded a handful of times but never written up. Maybe that was because it was typically a Gryffinor or Huffelpuff who caught her. Undoubtedly a Slytherin perfect would waste no time turning her in.

Suddenly a noise caught Y/n’s attention. It wasn’t loud, almost nonexistent but Y/n knew her ears had not tricked her. It sounded like a clank, similar to when she would drop her wand on the stone floor. Y/n peeked over her shoulder but once again, it was empty. Nearly. If he hadn’t stumbled Y/n would have missed him but she didn’t.

The black cloak left the trail. His fast movements to hide caused it to wave back ever so slightly. A tiny look of his bright locks poked out from the stone corner. Y/n smiled to herself as she thought, was he following me?

The happy witch swiveled back around and gracefully continued down the corridor. She pretended to not notice the presence behind her as she led him to a spot, unbeknownst to him. Draco had no inkling that Y/n was on to him. He was sure his hiding skills were immaculate. He had been playing hide-n-go-seek with the house elves since he was a child. His only mistake was calling out to her earlier. He was desperate for a conversation, but his nerves got the best of him. Draco tiptoed a safe distance behind Y/n as she skipped down the wavy path.

She quickly rounded a corner causing Draco to pick up his pace. It wasn’t until he turned the corner that confusion graced his face.

“What?”

Without warning a hand clamped around his wrist and yanked him backwards. A door slammed loudly making Draco whip around to face his attacker. Much to his surprise the beautiful Gryffindor he had grown so infatuated with stood before him. Her h/c hair was pulled back into a messy ponytail but she still looked gorgeous. This was the first time the pair has been so close to one another. She could smell the hint of peppermint wafting off his breath. It reminded her of a potion she had smelled months ago.

Both speechless, the pair stood inches away from each other. Draco’s eyes flickered from her plump peach lips to her eyes, then back to her lips. He was hoping she’d speak first and luckily, that was exactly what she did,

“Why are you following me?”

Draco griminced growing bashful. His head fell down to his chest as he stared at the ground trying to come up with an answer. This was not an emotion he was accustomed with. Never in his life has a blush of red painted his cheeks from the actions of a girl. Especially a Gryffindor girl. He wondered how his father would react then pushed away the thought. Y/n leaned her head down forcing Draco to meet her gaze.

“What makes you think I was following you?”

She gave him a knowing look. He was caught and there was no denying that. Draco took a moment to take in the closet she had shoved them both into. It was a supply closet by the looks of it. There was one window with a small nook overlooking the vast forest extending beyond the castle grounds. A few dusty textbooks, some beakers, empty test tubes, and four old broomsticks. He hadn’t spent much time on this half of the castle. He found himself exploring a lot of new areas of the castle while following Y/n around. It started last year, the beginning of their third year. It was far easier for him to admire her from afar then risk rejection.

“Fine, I’ve been following you. I just wanted to know what you’re up to. There’s about seven parties going on tonight so you can’t tell me you weren’t invited to one.” “I was, but I didn’t feel like socializing tonight. I could ask you the exact same thing.” Draco smirked. He might not be the biggest fan of Gryffindor’s, but her playfulness and ease to serve it right back enticed him.

“Maybe I didn’t feel like socializing either.” Y/n shot him a look of skepticism. He wasn’t fooling you but you decided to play his game.

“But you want to spy on me?”

“I wouldn’t say spy-” This earned a scoff from the Gryffindor. Draco rolled his blue eyes and sighed, “Okay I just enjoy ‘spying’ on you at times. Don’t make me explain it please. You’re amusing. Quite odd too, but amusing nonetheless. I don’t know.”

Y/n could feel the heat kissing her cheeks at his words. If it was any other boy, she would tell them off or find it a bit creepy but she had been crushing on Draco now for years so she couldn’t help the rapid beating in her chest. Draco searched Y/n’s face for disapproval, he thought he had scared her off at this point. Instead, she looked up at him and gave him a teasing smirk,

“How many other girls do you spy on, Malfoy?”

The usual cocky boy was taken aback by her question. The last thing he needed was for Y/n to think of him as some sleaze. In all honesty, he had never taken genuine interest in a girl until he met you.

“Only you, I swear. No other girl in this school has held my interest as long as you.”

“Why did you stick up for me yesterday at lunch? With Pansy… I thought you two were y’know… and you made her stop. Why?”

It was hard to ignore her sadden expression. A pang struck his heart at her brokenness. He wanted to hug her but he hardly even knew her personally. It was funny in a way. He had spent almost two years observing her and taking notes over her actions but had never made a move. Quickly he shook his head,

“I’m not with Pansy, if that’s what you think. She’s quite annoying, can’t spend more than an hour around her without a bloody headache. Not exactly my type.” Y/n giggled causing Draco to smile. It was the first genuine smile he had in awhile. “But I’m not sure. I just didn’t like the way she was speaking to you. She was wrong anyways so why let her get away with it? Not that you needed my help, anyhow. You can hold your ground pretty well, love.”

Y/n’s breath caught in the back of her throat at the phrase. She heard it from her friends but never from Draco. It had a larger effect on her. A small precipitation built in her palms. The closet was becoming crammed with the growing tension between them. For the first time tonight Draco held the confidence and he took full advantage of it. Seeing her frail and shy made his heart melt and long to protect you. It was a feeling that scared him but he was willing to invite it.

“Cat’s got your tongue?” Draco teased the girl like a game of cat and mouse. It was new to him, seeing her wiggle uncomfortably. Lately she has been on the upper hand. Now it was his turn. Her flustered state caused his stomach to do flip flops. She was the most adorable girl he had ever laid eyes on.

Y/n placed her hand on his stern chest keeping a small space of distance between the pair. Draco tried to deny the sensation that rushed through his bones under her touch.

“Shove off, Draco. I don’t like the way your friends treat mine.” She rolled her eyes carelessly. This was an issue she wanted to end. It hurt Y/n to see the way Draco’s friends treated hers. She didn’t like seeing Hermione upset and ashamed over her blood status, which holds no importance in her mind.

“I’m sorry, darling. It’s hard to explain but I can tell them to lay off a bit. They haven’t done anything to you have they?” His hand now rests over her own, still placed on his chest. This was the first time she had felt the warmth of his hand on hers. The butterflies in her stomach were screaming but she resisted their cries. “No, actually that’s the weird thing. I think today was the first time I’ve actually had a conflict with one of your friends. Why is that?” Draco grinned at her confused expression. All this time he spent admiring her from a distance, he never realized how breathtaking she really was up close.

“They know better, I wouldn’t allow that.”

He hadn’t fully processed his words before they slipped. Y/n’s head tilted to the side watching his profile. She waited for a chuckle, for him to admit it was a ploy. Draco’s posture stayed fixed and tense. His words held more weight than one might think. It led onto more and Y/n wanted to hear him say it. Vulnerability was an uncomfortable emotion for Draco and for the first time in a long time, he was scared.

“Why do you treat me differently, Draco? I’ve never heard you say one bad thing about me. You stood up for me yesterday. You’ve been spying on me. You look out for me… why?”

Y/n’s hand slipped away from his and folded near her lap. The tension was as thick as honey. All Draco could think about was the hint of cherry in Y/n’s perfume that was tattooed in his memory. He thought about her all summer long, never able to get the sound of her childish laughter out of his head. Spent hours in his mother’s garden sitting underneath a large cherry tree thinking about her. The only thing he wanted to change about Y/n was to make her his.

Maybe it was the cunningness of the Slytherin in him, he just couldn’t resist the opportunity. Rejection was the last thing on his mind, it was worth the risk.

In a light manner Draco pushed Y/n back a step until her back was pressed into the stone wall and the back of her head against the glass of the window. A small yelp came as Y/n was caught off guard by his sudden movements. Even through the darkness Y/n could make out Draco’s features. He looked assured- not his usual arrogant, high and mighty demeanor. Draco’s hand snaked up above Y/n’s head, giving himself stability as his face neared hers.

His free hand slowly curled around Y/n’s chin, taking his time. Y/n was positive he could hear the pounding of her heart. She reached up and pinched the skin of her arm between her finger tips. Draco stroked her cheek, brushing his thumb to her chin every few swipes. Nope, not dreaming, Y/n thought to herself.

Their eyes locked and Draco sent her a look of approval, not wanting to cross a boundary. She answered his question by closing the gap between them, leaning up on her tippy toes to meet his lips. Her hands slipped around his neck pulling him in closer. She savoured the taste of peppermint and apple on his lips. His kiss was soft, but overflowing with passion. It wasn’t sloppy but smooth, like two puzzle pieces matching up. Y/n’s lips moved with his happily. Her hands found their way to his platinum blonde hair, grazing at his soft locks earning a groan of pleasure from Draco. They continued on for another minute or so until Y/n’s need for oxygen got the better of her.

Pulling away softly Y/n rested her forehead against Draco’s. The only sound filling their air was the two of them trying to catch their breath. Drunk off adrenaline Draco’s eyes lit with glee. The happiness rising in his chest was addicting. Placing his gaze on Y/n Draco felt warmth,

“I really, really like you, Y/n. Even if you are a Gryffindor.”

Little chuckles came from both as they basked in the moment. Y/n was excited to run back to her dorm and share her night with Hermione. Hermione- what would she say?

A pit of worry settled in Y/n as she started to process what was happening. Draco noticed her shift in moods and moved his hold to her shoulders pulling her back a step. Y/n shifted her attention to the window and furrowed her eyebrows,

“What will your friends say? Your parents-” Before she could finish Draco beat her to it. He gently moved her chin to focus herself back on him. She drew her bottom lip into her mouth, biting on it nervously. Draco smirked at this, her little action driving him mad. Reassuringly, Draco bent at the knees a bit and placed a tender kiss to Y/n’s lips, then her cheek, holding her face in his hands. She was beyond flustered, her cheeks had yet to stop burning since she pulled him in the room. His hair swept against her forehead as he shook his head, “I don’t give a shit about any of them right now. Just you. Please be mine, Y/n.”

Her breath caught in the back of her throat. Draco scanned her face looking for any signs of an answer. He had never officially asked a girl out before so this was all new. She could easily say no and tell all her friends about it and torture him for years. Instead, Y/n nodded ‘yes’ then reconnected her lips once again with Draco’s. He moved to get a better position but just as he did, the closet door swung open causing a ray of light to burst in.

The two separated in an instant, scared shitless over the intruder.

“Well look here Georgie! We were right about all that lip smacking! It’s Y/n and Malfoy!”

“No way!” Soon rough George Weasley popped his head into the closet with a mischievous grin. Fred folded his arms over his chest smirking at the two of you. He was already planning out who George and him should spill the news to first. The endless chuckles began to emanate when he took in the sight.

Annoyed at their presence Draco shot dagger worthy glares at the twins. She shoved his shoulder trying to diffuse his frustration. The twins were her friends after all. Draco shot one last look at the twins before sneering,

“Get lost, Weasels!”

This only escalated the giggles between the twins as they rushed out singing loudly,

“Y/n and Malfoy sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G-, first comes love, then comes marriage-”

When they got far enough down the hall, Y/n sent a look to Draco. He was annoyed, not mad. Y/n moved towards him, leaning against his chest. The Slytherin Prince gripped her waist embracing her.

“If you don’t want to go back to your dorm yet, I know a spot. We’ll have to take a lot of stairs-” Y/n groaned in response earning a small laugh from Draco. “I know but I think you’ll like it. We can see the stars from up there.” Draco had only ventured up to the Astronomy Tower a handful of times though taking her there seemed to be a perfect idea. She’d love the stars, and it would give him more time to spend with her.

Y/n laced their fingers squeezing his hand. Draco pulled her hand to his lips pressing a chaste kiss to the skin.

“Okay, lead the way Draco.”

[thefanficmonster]

Vulnerability

Karl Heisenberg (Resident Evil 8: Village) x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Mentions of blood and injury, Swearing, Spoilers for RE8

Genre: Angst, Romance

Summary: With the only person he’s ever truly cared about, the only person who can calm him down and force him to take care of himself and balance his life out is taken from him, it’s safe to say the takers are bound to pay.

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Thank you so much for your request and I’m so sorry for the long wait you’ve had to endure but here it finally is - I hope you still come across the fic and take the time to read it despite the long time that’s passed. If you do so, I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

“THAT BITCH DID WHAT?!“

The unlucky maid that was sent to Heisenberg’s factory as an alternate way to be killed rather than turned into wine cowers in fear as the metal-controlling man sends the majority of the objects around them flying across the room, crashing into against the walls in his state of uncontrollable anger that has the girl frightened to no end. Although, if she’s being honest, Heisenberg has every right to be furious right now. Who wouldn’t be after being told their enemy snatched their lover to use as blackmail.

And this poor maid was the messenger who had to deliver the news to Heisenberg about two days after the capturing of Y/N, Karl’s lover.

The two weren’t known to be a couple by anyone but rumors started floating around - especially among the rest of the Lords - when they kept seeing this woman around the factory and by Heisenberg’s side, sometimes even during the meetings of the Lords.

Leaving her out in the open and so vulnerable, so easy to be grabbed by the filthy, ill-meaning hands of the Dimitrescus, is a fault of his own he’ll never get over. He’ll never not regret not keeping a watchful eye on her at all times, even when she claimed she needed space after the two had an argument.

When that happens - though rarely, it still happens - Y/N tends to wander off, either in the village or in a complete separate part of the factory which is thankfully large enough for them both to enjoy their privacy without running into each other unless they want to. So, when Karl hadn’t heard from Y/N for a day and a half he didn’t think much of it, seeing as how she had a tendency of leaving him in silence for a day or two to cool her head and let him cool his and avoid further complications of their argument.

But when she didn’t show even after those regular forty eight hours of silence, Karl started worrying. And, as he’s come learn only minutes ago, he was right to do so - Alcina had snatched Y/N while the girl was walking around the outskirts, not far away from the factory itself. The girl barely had time to scream before being knocked out cold and dragged to the Dimitrescu castle.

Heisenberg should’ve known showing off his vulnerability so openly would only bring him headaches and heartaches - he knew having a vulnerability in the first place would be a huge inconvenience and a risk, especially when said vulnerability is vulnerable in and of itself.

“What does that bitch want?!“ He growls at the girl who’s gone as pale as a ghost, looking so tiny and fragile in comparison to the enraged man towering over her. He’s already taller and bigger than her, but this anger only adds to his huge presence and intimidating appearance.

“S-she told me to tell you her and M-Mother Miranda knew of...your plans. They’ll give you back the girl when you agree to lay off the plans and...“ The girl trails off, terrified of the reaction she’ll receive for the last bit of the negotiation.

“And?!“ Karl has no patience for reluctance and most certainly has no time to waste when the girl he loves is in the clutches of one of the people he’d want to drain the life out of with his own two hands. 

“And, as proof, burn the factory down...with everything in it.“ The girl finishes, grimacing and hiding her face behind her arms when she does, expecting to be hit or screamed at or even killed. This man has never been in his right mind to begin with let alone now that the most important person in his life has been taken from him and is in grave danger.

The long moment of silence she’s met with surprises her. It’s gotta be the calm before the storm, she thinks to herself, slowly lowering her arms to look around in search of the man who she thinks has already left the room. But no, Karl is standing in front of her, wearing a smile upon his face. A menacing one. One promising that it is indeed the calm before the storm.

“Alright.“ He says in a scarily light-hearted tone of voice, one that is so calm it sends chills down the maid’s spine, “Return to your Mistress and report back that I agree to her terms as long as Y/N’s delivered to me by tomorrow morning.“

The maid cannot believe her ears nor her eyes but there he is - Karl Heisenberg, the most dangerous of the Lords, agreeing to drop his reputation in the water to save the love of his life. All with an unfaltering smile across his face.

                                            ��                  *  *  *

“Mother Miranda? I’m calling with some great news to share with you.“ Alcina Dimitrescu smiles a pleased smile as she looks at her reflection in the vanity mirror before her, “Heisenberg has chosen to stand down. Yes Mother, you heard me correctly, the stupid man-thing has chosen the pathetic woman over his own reign which I’m sure he wouldn’t have had the chance to carry out anyway thanks to your unmatched power, Mother Miranda, but now it’s official. He’s taken the ultimatum and has agreed to all the terms we laid out for him. In exchange, he hopes to get the girl back by tomorrow morning.“ A reply comes from the other side and Alcina laughs a low, mocking laugh, “Oh, he will be receiving her tomorrow morning, he needn’t worry. I’ll make sure to send him the wine bottles she’ll help us produce.“ The other woman on the line laughs as well, filling the Vampire Mistress with a sense of pride and accomplishment. “I have no doubt the gift will find him we-“ The tall woman’s word die down in her throat when a sharp pain spreads throughout her chest, leaving her breathless and disoriented. The ache spreads to her head where the screams of her daughters echo like an agonizing chant.

“Mother! Mother please help us! 

“Mother these monsters will kill us!“

“Mother, save us!“

The hurting mother drops the phone, attempting to get up to her feet, just to be knocked back down by the intense pain. The pain of a mother losing her daughters.

The daughters that were about to gruesomely murder Karl’s lover in the dungeons right below the castle. The three vampire girls were no match for Heisenberg and his army of lycans which he unleashed upon the whole castle, sending them in search of Y/N who he was quick to find in the dark torture chambers, beaten and bloodied but alive nonetheless.

“Darling, please, talk to me. Don’t do this to me, Y/N, please wake up.“ Karl ducks down in front of the seemingly lifeless body of Y/N, taking her face in his hands, gently holding her head up after he unchained her from the cuffs and contraptions meant to ensure her escape impossible. “Look at me, doll, come on. You’re safe now, you’re safe. Those bitches won’t live to see the light of day tomorrow let alone thing to bring you harm again.“

Although exhausted and weakened past the point of a lifeless doll, Y/N manages to force her eyes open and look into the concerned ones of her lover, Karl. “You came for me.”

“And what else was I gonna do, Y/N?“ He asks softly, gently smoothing back the hair stuck to her sweaty and bloodied forehead, “I would’ve come sooner had I known...“

She cuts him off, “But you didn’t, and that’s ok, you couldn’t have known. I knew you’d save me eventually. I never lost hope.” Her voice is coarse and low, each word painful to push past her sore throat. “I knew you would never let me die.”

“I could never, doll. I don’t know what I’d do without you.“ He presses his forehead against hers lovingly, allowing her a moment to catch her breath before carefully swiping her up in his arms, “Come on, angel, let’s go home.“

Y/N may be his vulnerability, but she’s also his greatest strength. Without her, he would’ve never taken revenge on the Dimitrescus and would’ve never been this determined to end Miranda’s reign and ruin her plans. Without her, he would be half the man he is now.

[mitsukui]

make it cream | g.w.

Pairing: George Weasley x female reader.

Summary: George finally tastes a bit of his own medicine ━  a sequel to ‘Good Girl’; if you still haven’t read it, I highly recommend you doing it so, because it’ll make so much more sense! (PART 1! + PART 3!)

Word Count: 2,5k (I know this got a little bit long, but take it as a ‘thank you’ present!)

Warnings: smut! Oral sex (male receiving), masturbation (male receiving), dirty talk, edging, cum play, daddy kink, degratation kink.

Disclaimer: none of the pictures used in the edit below belong to me; I simply put them together.

A/N: the amount of support I got from ‘Good Girl’ was insane, you guys! I could never express how grateful I truly am for each and every one of you. Thank you for all the likes, the reblogs, the messages. I hope you enjoy this sequel as much as you enjoyed the first part. Please, leave me some feedback if you feel like it! My askbox is open for your opinions, thoughts and requests. Thank you so much for your time and attention!  ♡

@gecrgesweasley​ thank you so much for giving me permission to use your idea somehow! ✨

Masterlist!

You had grown a bit tired of it. Enough was enough. It was not like you were unhappy with it; most times, you actually enjoyed it enormously. But now, every single time was the same.

It was high time you dominated George Weasley.

The sensations you felt that night still lurked in your body. Images of his big hands lashing out onto your skin still burned in the back of your mind. The warmth of his saliva on your tongue could still be felt whenever you pressed it against the roof of your mouth. Your legs still trembled slightly when you thought of the overstimulation he put you through after he had fucked your face mercilessly.

That night had been the first of many. Before it, you had never had any complaints about your sex life with your boyfriend. He had always shown himself as a caring and thoughtful partner. But you had been relentlessly suspicious of something within him fighting to make its way to the light.

George’s façade concealed how ravenous he truly was in bed.

And his dominating ways had awoken something in you.

You caught yourself wondering during lunch breaks whether you could make him come undone only with your hands. You visited muggle sex shops after work frequently. You spent long, extra minutes in the shower, pleasuring yourself over the thought of degrading him, exactly like he had done to you so many times before.

All you needed was an opportunity, since you already felt confident enough to try a few things on him. All you needed was an opportunity. And, apparently, all the planets aligned on a Saturday night to lend you a helping hand with that.

As usual, he had decided to work on a few things for Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes in the comfort of his flat, where you tended to spend your weekends at. Midnight was slowly approaching, but he was still going over some numbers and projects he had planned with Fred.

You found him in the kitchen, leaning towards the small squared table. He was still in his uniform, and numerous parchments were spread across the place he was working at. One of his hands supported his chin while the other was used to fiercely scribble new considerations about previously discussed topics.

It was funny how he could turn you on doing the most ridiculous things, such as working. George was a very intelligent man, and whenever he poured his brain out into something, you could feel your knees buckling. The way he would share his and Fred’s projects with you without exception was quite cute, too.

But tonight was not about being cute. Tonight was about torturing him and making him beg.

“It’s late. Almost midnight. Let’s go to bed.” Your voice brought him back to reality, and he offered you a weary smile. In your eyes, the way he threw himself into his passions was beautiful; but, once again, you found yourself secretly desiring to help him relieve all of the stress that existed in his body.

“I’m not tired.” He said in a low voice. “And if I don’t have this ready by tomorrow, Fred is gonna kill me.” As he chuckled, he shook his head to himself.

“Well, he’s not anywhere to be seen here, is he?” You raised your eyebrows playfully. A big difference between the twins was that Fred knew how to disconnect from work when their shift was over. But George was different. He used to go for that extra mile quite often. And to you, that was beautiful, too.  “And I know you’re tired. You know I know you like the back of my hand, right?”

You both stared at each other for a little while in silence before laughing softly. He gave up on pretending he was not tired, because deep down inside he knew you were right, and let his body to sink into the chair. His slender fingers loosened his dark amber tie, and your heart instantly skipped a beat.

“If you don’t want to go to bed, just let me do something for you, then.” You suddenly spat out, unable to control your excitement. The universe was right there, offering you a chance to do what you had been dreaming of for a few weeks. “Please.”

“Damn, princess. You know I go crazy when you beg for something.”

Your teeth were pressed gently onto your lower lip right after you whispered a second plead, and your eyes gained a new devious sparkle to them. The heat between you two was soon to elevate, just like that first night.

George spread his legs a bit and patted his muscular thighs, wordlessly telling you to sit on his lap, which you eagerly complied. You wasted no time in settling your body onto his, and pecking his thin lips once.

You reached out for both of his hands, and you swallowed hard at how big they looked when compared to yours, arousal starting to build up in your loins.

Looking intensely at his eyes, you placed one of his hands around your neck. He was fast to give your skin a delicate squeeze but, somehow, you craved for more. So you took his other hand to your lips.

They wrapped around two of his fingers, and your tongue ran over his skin. His exhaustion made his body more sensible than it usually was, and you felt pleased with yourself as soon as he threw his head back. Husky groans began to leave his lips when you started sucking on his fingers hungrily. You hollowed your cheeks, already moving your head up and down and rocking your hips against his body.

You could feel he was about to switch from groans to real moans, but things could not be that easy for him. You pulled his hand away from his mouth, a string of your saliva still connecting him to you. He sighed heavily due to the frustration that now took over his body.

“You are such a little whore.” He was panting slightly as his eyes fell upon you once again, and there was a light flush on his skin. “Daddy needs to teach you a lesson. Good girls always finish what they started. Open your mouth.”

“No.”

A flash of disbelief splashed across his face and it was almost as if the world had stopped for one or two seconds. He was unsure whether he heard you correctly.

His hands got a grip on your hips, his fingers pressing down onto the soft skin hard enough to leave some bruises there. “I said ‘open your mouth’, princess.”

“And I said ‘no’, Daddy.” A smirk appeared on your lips, adrenaline rushing through your veins faster than blood itself. You tilted your head to the side, and used your fingers to play with his tie and the collar of his shirt. “I’m not taking any orders tonight, Daddy. I’m calling the shots, for a change.”

After that, it did not take long until he was completely undressed in front of you, his hands tied to the back of the chair with his own tie, and his hard cock sprung free, laid on his stomach.

You had barely started teasing him, but he was already whimpering for some mercy. His eyes were closed, his eyebrows furrowed, and he felt like bursting into tears any moment now.

It was fun to be dominated instead of dominating, but it was something he was not used to. He did not know how to control his own instincts that well, and he was suffering. His desire was to cum all over your hands, but you said he could only do that when you allowed him to. Painting your entire body with his own seed was something he loved doing, but being unable to do it whenever he wanted to was causing tiny excruciating  fireworks to explode inside his chest.

Your lips brushed against his left thigh, pampering the freckle-stained area with soft and small kisses. You eyed him while making your way up through his body, your mouth soon reaching his crotch for the first time that night.

He felt the warmth of your lips touching his cock ever so slightly, and returned to whimpering. A delicious wave of desire crashed within your body when you tasted the precum that leaked from his tip. However, you allowed your mouth to be restrained to that area only.

George attempted to buck his hips up to thrust into your mouth, but you immediately leaned back. “Now, don’t be a bad boy, Daddy.” The tip of his cock received a new substitute for pleasure without warning: your fingers.

Loud cries echoed in the kitchen as you ran your fingertips gently over his reddened tip. You were deeply mesmerized by his reactions, yet you wanted more.

“Would you like me to suck your dick, Daddy?” You purred, your voice dripping in lust and excitement over your recently discovered dominance. He nodded vehemently. “Would you like to feel my wet and warm tongue running up and down your shaft?”

Those filthy words were leaving your lips easily, and your nails were scratching his skin lightly. “Can you imagine receiving a sloppy blowjob, Daddy? Tears running down my face as your thick dick hits the back of my throat.” You wrapped your hand around him, and pumped him up and down a few times, your pace being terribly slow.

“My saliva getting mixed with your juices and, then, escaping my lips and dripping down my tits.” Your hand moved in a faster pace, but it was not fast enough for him. His chest started rising and falling, pleasure erupting in his body. “And, finally, your hot seed exploding in my mouth. Can you imagine that, Daddy?”

A giggle slipped out of your lips and went straight to his core. His cock twitched in your hand, and you pretended to be surprised. “Oh! You like that, Daddy?” Up until that moment, you had been enchanted by the sight of his tip disappearing and reappearing in your hands. But you finally looked up at him, and you swore you were in heaven.

George had his eyes closed, a thin layer of sweat covering his forehead. He was tirelessly trying to free his own hands. Even though his lips were apart and trying to say something, nothing was coming out of them.

“You know how much I love to have you in my mouth. You fill me up so well, Daddy! You are so thick, so big, and so veiny.” A little peck was laid on his tip, and his muscles tensed up as he tried again to be freed from the restrains on his wrists.

You finally put an end to his suffering and took all of him at once, his cock indeed hitting the back of your throat. You gagged and tears welled up to your eyes, but you persisted. Pushing your head even further down, you heard him moaning your name.

He was in sheer ecstasy. You carried on sucking him hungrily, and his needy whimpers did not cease. There was something about the way your bodies connected: he fit perfectly into your mouth, and he felt your touch could work wonders on him. Among so many lustful feelings and thoughts, he realized he was hopelessly in love with you.

“I-I’m close, princess.” His back arched a bit, and he groaned loudly. “Don’t stop.”

But you did. You stopped without thinking twice. And he cried out loud, frustration coloring his veins again. George tried to form coherent sentences to express his discontent, but it was difficult to think straight.

“You’re pathetic, Daddy. What do you think people would say if they saw you like that?” His thighs were splattered with delicate kisses like before. His breath was uneven, and he cleared his throat. Your words resonated through your surroundings, but he did not feel embarrassed at all. In fact, he was enjoying this far more than he expected.

“I reckon you are a whore. My whore, Daddy.”

Your fingers danced against his wet tip repeatedly while your other hand gently cupped his balls. His legs trembled violently due to the extra pressure you put onto his sensible tip. He warned you he was close to releasing one more time, but you stopped your movements again.

Your boyfriend mewled shamelessly, sounding like a desperate kitten. It was the second time you were edging him after a long session of teasing, and you could tell he was aching. The veins in his cock were prominent, and his tip was now taken by a dark reddish shade.

“All you have to do is beg, Daddy. I know you can do it.”

“P-Please, princess. Let me cum. I don’t know if I can take it anymore.” The tiredness he had endured all this time became evident on his voice, and you almost felt sorry for him.

He was a hot mess. Sweat dripped from his face, strength no longer existed within him to fight against the wrists restrains, and agony was the only visible feeling on his handsome face.

With a fond smile on your lips, you ordered him to cum for his princess as you pumped his cock in your hands for the last time. When he warned you about his release being close, you let go of his big shaft and watched it as it landed on his stomach.

You whispered dirty nothings as your hands ran up and down his body, and it did not take long for him to feel his orgasm being expelled from his tip. Thick strings of his seed covered the skin on his own stomach.

That was a sight to be proud of.

You moved your body closer to his, at last removing your knees from the cold kitchen floor. Trying to soothe him a bit more, you used your hands to caress the sides of his body that still trembled slightly. Without warning, your tongue collected all of his cum into your mouth. He felt your tongue running up and down, side to side, over his abs, and his torso jolted in overstimulation.

His taste was amazing to you, and you felt incredibly close to him by doing that. You, then, realized you were hopelessly in love with him as well.

With a tad of effort, you finally stood up properly. Your intimate moment had taken its toll on you, too. Knees were sore, legs were weak, and throat was slightly sore.

You leaned down towards his face, and his eyes confessed he could not take any more bit of teasing. Your thumbs stroked his cheek bones, signaling it was really over now. But you still squished his cheeks gently, and his lips opened only for you.

His own cum was soon deposited in his mouth, and he moaned at the new sensation. You brushed your tongue against his lips and, once you were free to talk again, you did. Your voice came out like a hoarse murmur, but George thought it was incredibly sensual.

“Can you swallow it, Daddy?” Your fingers continued on caressing his skin and he nodded weakly, your eyes watching him swallow his own release. “You’re such a good boy.”

“I’m going to fucking destroy you next time, princess.”

“Bring it on, Daddy.”

[juniorgman187]

Spoiled Rotten (Reid Fic)

Summary: After Spencer went radio silent on Reader while he was in prison, their pride and stubbornness threatens to tear them apart forever. Reader’s forced to mourn the death of who they were and experience the inner turmoil of navigating who they are.

A/N: Y’all are gonna kill me for the ending, but it’s one hell of a way to go.  Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Angst Content Warning: Imprisonment, humiliation, abandonment, anger, frustration, angst, yelling, fighting Word Count: 5.3k Playlist: Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo

Time jumps are indicated by “. . .” or “_ _ _”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

A rather unfortunate predicament we’ve found ourselves in tonight. I can’t say I’ve ever been quite this uncomfortable in my life, yet I’m careful not to speak too soon. Because I know the second Spencer opens his mouth to break the silence we’re currently sitting in, I’ll stand corrected. 

“You’re breathing really hard,” He tells me out of nowhere. 

See, I stand corrected. 

Now that I’ve become hyper aware of my own inhale and exhale, my respiration is just that much more restricted. I’m practically holding my breath at this moment - both from the anticipation of catching this unsub in the act and giving Spencer one less thing to scrutinize about me. 

“I didn’t say you had to stop breathing,” He tacks on as if it would put me any more at ease. Not that if he had explicitly said such a thing, I would’ve. 

Unlike other people, I wasn’t exactly jumping at the chance to throw myself at his feet so he’d like me. But to use that as grounds for his disdain would be foolish. Our rancor went deeper than the basic lack of synergy between us. 

And in the spirit of getting to the bottom of that abyssal pit, I finally asked the question with words that always seemed to hang above but never would form. 

“Why was I the only one denied visitation while you were in prison?” 

It may surprise you to know that it wasn’t always like this between us; we were actually close once, although it is hard to imagine that version of us ever really existing. However, if I think about it hard enough, I can remember with perfect clarity who we used to be. 

. . .

“Jeez, you really don’t like these things do you?” I nudged him playfully before feeling instantly guilty once I witnessed the result of my shove that must’ve been a little too much for all 120 (at most) pounds of him. I’d neglected to remember the strength I held over the lanky Doctor as well as neglected to notice where the trajectory of my push would land him - in the direct line of a circus clown walking the opposite direction as us. This, of course, brought him face to face with the character. Unfortunately, I managed to catch a glimpse of the lens of Spencer’s glasses grazing the white face paint of the caricature. 

After a shudder of mortification and a very brave shriek, Spencer ran to my other side to be as far away from the clown as possible and apparently, as close to me as possible. From a distance, you’d think we were conjoined simply by the way he was glued to me - shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow, hip to hip, thigh to thigh. 

While removing his glasses to clean them off with the hem of his blazer, he answered, “Carnivals? I mean, what’s not to like? What with the loud noises, the heart-attack-inducing food that’s more grease than actual food, or the sheer amount of bacteria harboring on each and every handle, hoop, ball, or button of these ridiculous game booths.” 

“Wow, you really don’t like carnivals.” I should’ve figured. 

“Nope. Never have and probably never will.” 

As someone who looked forward to the fair every summer of her childhood, any aversion to carnivals broke my heart. I had a fondness for them borne in adolescence that I couldn’t quite justify now in my adulthood. 

“But they’re fun!” was the best argument I could muster. The whine in my voice being provoked by the possibility that the higher the shrill of my pitch, the easier he’d be to sway. Turns out, Dr. Reid was not nearly as susceptible to my auditory persuasion as I might’ve thought he was. Just a stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel. 

“I’m sorry. I know you brought me here because you love these things, but I just can’t get past the ...” He surveyed the fair, ostensibly against his will, in search of the perfect word to describe our surroundings. “Filth.”

I would’ve argued in the defense of the carnival, mentioning how it’s endearing that the only bathrooms for miles were porta potties, and that the screaming, crying, sticky children galore just added to the attraction, and that there was a hidden charm to the way the roller coasters creaked beyond their means with every ride. 

But to an extent, I agreed. It was rather filthy, and I wasn’t much of a germaphobe myself so to someone like him, this would be hell on earth. 

“Well, you get what you put into it. If you’re willing to overlook some minor imperfections, I really think you’d enjoy this place.” 

Spencer by now had his hands in his pockets and his walking pace had slowed to a complete halt. There was a moment of skepticism, followed by a partially open smile to make way for the laughter that escaped from the disbelief that he felt for letting me break his resolve so easily. 

“Alright then. What do you want to do first, Brat?” 

The nickname I’d earned could be seen as meanspirited, but truly, it was affectionately diminutive. Like all good nicknames are. And like the proclaimed Brat I was, I’d taken him to all my favorite parts of the fair. 

First came the bumper cars to ease him into the experience - as ironic as that sounds. He was reluctant to submerge his gangly body into a mini vehicle, much less one that’d been inhabited by God knows how many people before us, but he pushed his reservations aside when he realized he’d get to slam into my car (safely, of course). 

Secondly, we went on the Carousel, but this was only in preparation for the real ride that I wanted to take him on next - the Swinging Chairs. He’d gotten a little nauseous, from both the repetitive circling and the galvanized chains he had to hold that were definitely held by several others. 

He had no interest in going on the Gravitron - super lame, I know - so we opted for the Ferris Wheel instead. I didn’t mind making this compromise so much after recognizing all that he’d done for my benefit that night. And for his generosity and selflessness, I thought it only fitting to end the night going somewhere so tame he couldn’t possibly have any opposition to it.

The photo booth.

The booth in particular we’d gone to was smaller than an airplane bathroom, if you can imagine that. The bench seat was barely wide enough to fit Spencer, let alone seat the both of us. While he didn’t explicitly make the offer to let me sit on his lap, it was kind of a give in that I’d have some part of my body intertwined around him like stubborn ivy. 

. . .

I still laugh thinking about the tangled mess of limbs we were below what the camera couldn’t capture. It was arguably the furthest extent of contortionist work I wanted to do in my lifetime, and henceforth exceedingly uncomfortable, and yet, I’d never felt more at home than when I was in his arms. 

That night he would tear off the top three photos to keep for himself while I kept the bottom three photos. 

To this day, I have never seen the pictures that he kept, and I’m left to wonder if he had them at all.

Because I still have mine. And they were virtually the only thing keeping me sane throughout his trial and subsequent imprisonment. 

Six Months Ago ...

My eyes were locked on the loose thread of my cardigan that I was rolling between my fingers anxiously. 

“Would you stop that?” Penelope swatted my hand away from my sweater. “You’re making me nervous just looking at you.” She grumbled. 

“Sorry,” I apologized bleakly.

A few seconds later she groaned again, making me think I was still doing something bothersome, but it turned out to be just the opposite. “Ugh, I know that sounded mean, and I hate when I sound mean, but I can feel my forehead creasing from the stress, and watching you fidget is going to give me an ulcer.”

“I wish I could help it. I’m just really worried about him.”

“Well I am, too, but that’s not gonna do us any good right now. All we can do is hope for the best.”

Sometimes Penelope’s overly optimistic view on life was futile and unwelcome, and truthfully, this was one of those times. 

“Penny?” 

As she turned her head, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the lenses of her dark green glasses. I could see my own mournful expression as I asked, “What if he’s found guilty?” 

She started to say something but stopped herself. “Right now, all we need to focus on is his bail. We can worry about a verdict later.” She put her hand on top of mine and shook it briefly to remind me that we were in this together. 

Moments later recess was over and the team came trudging back into the courtroom. 

The sound of the judge clearing her throat and our footsteps on the floor made this feel all too normal. 

How could Spencer’s life be hanging in the balance in such a place as non-intimate as this? 

It frustrated me how casual things felt today and how everyone was acting normally. Prentiss had yet to bat an eye, Rossi’s stoic expression never changed, and Penelope was telling me not to worry. Everyone was acting so aloof. 

My eyes darted to Spencer, who was looking back at us woefully. I couldn’t bear to see him like that any longer, so I kept my head down and stared at my feet after I took my seat. 

Even when I closed my eyes, I was haunted by the vision of him in a suit, just like one he’d wear to work. But instead, he was wearing it for this - this vastly different situation. 

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at him the same in one anymore. I’ll probably just remember this particular look on his face, in this god awful courtroom, during this horribly nauseating circumstance. 

If one thing was for certain, it was that this would all come back to me if I ever laid eyes on him in a suit, and that thought fucking terrified me. 

Because that one thought spiraled into the next: Everything was bound to change after this. Every little thing would change in every little way. 

Spencer’s lawyer, the judge, and the prosecutor were going back and forth for a while, but I tuned it all out because I knew if I had tuned in, I wouldn’t have been able to hold back my arguments. Eventually, though, I heard something I could no longer ignore. 

“If past behavior is the best indicator of future conduct, and I do believe it is, then your client presents a flight risk.”

I stood up immediately, getting a head rush from the speed. I knew what was to follow, so I needed to be on my feet the second I heard it. Maybe so I could run and escape before I had to.

“Bail is denied. The defendant will remain in federal custody pending trial.” 

“Spencer!” I shouted, losing all the composure I’d been trying to maintain. I reached for him as if he was at any capacity to reach back and hold me. God, I needed him to hold me. Hold me like how he did at the carnival. 

Hold me.

Luke held me back as I fought to be near him.

“Let me go!” I screamed, trying to break free of his tight grip. Spencer could only stand and stare, mirroring my own wistful glance. He mouthed something to me that I couldn’t quite make out, but if I knew him at all, he probably said something about not wanting me to worry about him. 

“(Y/n), (y/n) it’s gonna be alright.” JJ reasoned, pulling me into a hug. 

“How long before this case goes to trial?” I heard Prentiss whisper to Spencer’s lawyer. 

“It’s a complicated case. I’d say three months maybe?” 

Immediately, I worked myself out of JJ’s arms and pushed my way through the team, running up to the barrier between us.

“Spence!” I cried out in anguish. 

To the sound of my voice, he glanced over his shoulder sadly. He wasn’t even shocked I’d been able to get so close to him - he seemed to expect it, and for that, he was sad. Because he knew if I was going to be as stubborn as to fight to get to him at this hearing, then I was going to be stubborn enough to reach him in prison, too. And should he find himself behind bars, he knew that I’d get to him one way or another. 

That is if he’d let me. 

“Be strong,” He weakly smiled. ‘For me’ his sad eyes begged in addition. He held my gaze for as long as he possibly could before disappearing into another room. 

As I watched him walk away, I could feel my heart shattering and crumbling into the pit of my stomach. Perhaps that was a premonition, a true gut feeling, telling me something I at the time couldn’t have known and wouldn’t have accepted. 

That was the last time I would see Spencer. 

People always say when something unbelievable happens, it doesn’t feel real, but this? Nothing felt more real and more intense than this. 

There was no other way for me to see this situation but as the first defeat in an endless line of them.

If Spencer was denied bail, what else could happen to him? Could he be found guilty too? Because prior to this, the denial of his bail seemed impossible. He posed no flight risk, but according to the judge, he did. So if what I once thought to be impossible happened, then it could and would happen again.

I knew Spencer was going to be found guilty.

What I didn’t know, though, was how I was going to live with myself from then on.

I didn’t go that day. 

I knew myself too well. So did the others, which is why they didn’t object to my decision not to come to Spencer’s trial. They knew I was better off staying home. Especially, if there was the chance that I might react hysterically again.

I didn’t stay home, though. That part the team never found out about. 

I went to visit Diana instead. A much wiser choice, in my opinion. 

“You know, we’ve been talking so much about Spencer today, but we haven’t talked about you yet,” said Diana. 

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” I feigned a polite smile. 

“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” She tilted her chin downward and gave me that sly grin of hers. 

“No, no, of course not. I know better than to underestimate the Diana Reid.” I quipped, making her smile widen. “I just figured you’d wanna spend your time talking about someone much more interesting.” 

“Oh please, Spencer and I talk about you all the time.”

I perked up from the checker piece I was fiddling with. “You do?”

“Mhm,” She nodded over and over again. “I always knew there was something between you two because you could always talk about each other to me, but for some reason, you could never actually talk to each other.”

For the first time in months, I genuinely laughed and I couldn’t help it. “He makes me nervous! I always feel like he might correct something I say, or tell me that there’s food in my teeth.” 

“You know, now that you mention it, I do remember him saying something about seeing a really big piece of lettuce in your teeth one time.” 

“Diana!” I squealed, pushing the checkerboard at her, pretending to take offense. 

“I really don’t know what you’re so nervous about! I think it would be good if you just talked to him.” 

“It’s, um, it’s not that simple. Not right now, at least.” 

My energy quickly nose-dived and I tried to do my best to hide it from Diana, but it permeated through the rest of the visit. I couldn’t fully enjoy myself after it. 

The team and I all agreed not to let Diana know, especially not with the uncertainty of the case. There was no point riling her up if there was nothing to be worried about. And I could only imagine how I reacted - Diana would be reacting 10 times more hysterically. 

But as much as I hated to say it, I almost would’ve rather been in her position. 

I would give anything to un-know Spencer’s circumstance.

Present Time ...

In this car, there was nowhere for him to run or hide, not like before.

Anytime I so much as entered his gravity by being in the same room, he’d flee the space in the next breath. Granted, he couldn’t really avoid me entirely. We did have to be on the same flight for an extended period of time, but he made that work by letting me choose my spot first, then choosing a spot directly on the opposite side of the jet. 

What a gentleman, huh?

“Kudos to you, by the way. For managing to avoid me for this long. I imagine it’s been as not-easy as it has been incredibly-cowardly.” My words stung as they flowed from my lips as badly as I imagine they seared his already cracked skin. I couldn’t believe that now that I finally had the opportunity to talk to him, I was using it to be petty and passively aggressive. But then again, I could. 

Because after what he put me through, he deserved to feel the full severity of my indignation.

My only wish was that he knew exactly how I had felt when I found out. 

. . .

Icarus. 

He died tragically while using artificial wings, invented by his father, to escape from the Labyrinth. When Icarus flew too close to the sun, it melted the wax that held the wings together, and he fell into the sea.

‘Don’t fly too close to the sun.’ That’s the moral of the story. That’s what Reid was trying to tell me. But I didn’t listen. 

I flew too close. 

I had approached the window with more zeal than this predicament warranted. 

“I’m (y/n) (y/l/n). I’m here to see Spencer Reid, R-E-I-D,” I eagerly spelt his last name with ease as though it were my own last name. 

She’d flipped back and forth between pages, running her index finger up and down the sheet for far too long that it made me worry. Turns out, I had every right to be worried. 

“I don’t see you on the list, ma’am.” 

I was so mindnumbingly dumb that I couldn’t even see how dumb I was being. “Oh no no no, I’m with the FBI. I called earlier and left a message, remember?” 

“Yeah, I remember you,” She smiled politely, giving me the tiniest fragment of hope. “But you’re not on his list.” Only for it to be shattered in an instant. 

I had yet to process or accept this information. “So what does that mean?”

“It means he doesn't wanna see you right now. And frankly, neither do I. Next!” 

“Wait, could you just please check with him? My name is (y/n) -” 

“Ma’am, you are holding up a whole line of people that wanna see their loved ones too, so I suggest you see yourself out before I call security to help see you out.” 

I knew by her tone of the word ‘help’ that meant a prison guard would most likely forcibly remove me from the premises, and the last thing I needed was to feel even more humiliated. 

I got plenty of that when I had to come back to the BAU. 

“You’re not on the list?” Luke seemed genuinely shocked. More so than I was. Above all, I just felt really stupid. 

“I’m sure it was just a mistake.” Stephen reasoned. He was so good at being level-headed. Which normally, I would’ve loved. But right now, it only fueled the fire burning in my chest.

“That’s what I thought at first, too. But later on, she asked him herself, and he said - and I quote, ‘I don’t want to see her. Not now. Not ever.’”

. . .

Those were the words that seared my skin, and he hadn’t even spoken them directly to me to do it. 

The words that did just enough to heal me back to health were, of course, Penelope’s.

“Since you haven’t seen him yet, the rest of us will just wait until you have. It’s only fair that you have your first turn before the rest of us go back for a second time.” 

Back then, it was easy to hold out hope, but the more and more time passed, the more he kept denying my visits. Therefore, the more my hope began to fade. 

It had been weeks since anyone else had seen him before I finally surrendered. Although I had newly-brewing sourness towards Reid, it didn’t feel fair to deny him everyone else’s presence until mine was permitted. 

Luke was the one who volunteered to visit first. And to my dismay, Spencer didn’t fight against it. 

The proof was finally there. Now I could say with absolute certainty: Spencer just didn’t want to see me. 

It was both ironic and utterly frustrating to think about how I’d never gone more than two weeks without seeing him. Even when the BAU got time off after big cases, we’d always spend that time together. The longest we’d spent apart was 12 days. And right when he came back to D.C, we were attached at the hip for the next week, trying to compensate for all that time we were apart. 

Now, look at us. I haven’t said one word to him in half a year. 

If tragedy and comedy could coexist, this would be it. 

“How is he?” I asked Luke as soon as he got back. 

“He’s holding on,” Luke affirmed with confidence. What he said next lacked any of that. “He told me to tell you not to worry about him.” 

Something in me knew it was a lie. “Did he actually say that?”

His lack of an answer was one itself. 

“Did he say anything at all about me?”

“I tried telling him how much you wanted to see him, but he just brushed it off. I’m sorry, (y/n).” 

This became my routine for the months to follow. Every time someone would come back from the prison, I’d ask them if they talked about me, but the answer was always no. After a while, it had gotten to the point where I purposefully started leaving myself out of the loop. At least in that case, it was by my own volition that I was being excluded, not by a predicament being forced on me. 

Not by Spencer. 

“We’re not doing this right now,” Spencer declaration brought me back to the present, where I found him removing himself from both the conversation and the vehicle. When I heard the latch click to open, my hand reflexively flew to my auto-lock to prevent him from leaving. Naturally, he still managed to escape using his door’s button.

If I couldn’t stop him, then I could follow him. 

“Then when will we do this? Huh, Spencer? When? Because anytime I try to talk to you, you run away.” The mere fact that I was speed-walking after him was proof. While he casually strolled down the sidewalk paying me no mind, I tried to be clever and walk down the street so we’d be somewhat side to side. I was tired of staring at his back every time he walked away. I needed to see his face.

For his every stride, I had to take at least three steps. He was gliding through the world so effortlessly as I was trekking my uphill battle. It was quite fitting, though. Further exemplification that, between us, I was fighting harder to preserve the people we used to be, the relationship we used to have. Meanwhile, he couldn’t care less. A stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel. Just like he always was. 

As I began to speak, I had to also be conscious of the parked cars along the curb, being careful to weave in and out. 

“For months, you have blatantly ignored me. The entire time you were in prison, you denied my visits. And it’s not like it was a one time thing. I tried to visit you over 100 times while you were in jail! 100 times I got rejected. 100 times I got turned away. 100 times my heart shattered.” 

By now, I was speaking so loudly that I could see household lights within neighboring homes turning on. I hadn’t even realized how far we’d walked down the street and away from our car, but it was the last thing on my mind. 

“Then after you were released, it’s like I never even existed. I had to find out that you were out of there a week later than everyone else because they all assumed you came to me yourself to tell me the good news,” I laughed wryly at my own stupidity. “Do you know how hard it was for me?” 

“Do you know how hard it was for me?” 

It took me a second to register that he was actually engaging with me in this conversation now. But when I looked at his expression, I could see that something within him had snapped. A little piece of me was glad, though. Now I knew for sure that there was some effect I had on him. 

“Hard for you?”

“I know you came to visit me 100 times! Want to know how I know? Because I was there, too! I was there every time a guard came to ask if I wanted to see you. I was there every time I turned you away. And while you got to walk out of those doors every time I did, I was stuck in there, rotting in that cell, thinking about how badly I wanted to see you. How badly I wanted to touch ...” His voice faltered. “To touch you. But I had to protect you!” 

“You do realize in protecting me, you were hurting me in the process.” 

“Because you just don’t know when to leave well enough alone!” His hands tugged at the root of his unruly hair like evidence of the frustration that my stubbornness caused. “You’re such a pain in the ass because you can never cooperate! It’s gotta be your way or no one else’s! ‘Spencer, it has to be this way because I said so. Spencer, you have to let me see you because I said so. Spencer, you have to talk to me because I said so. Spencer, you have to ride this stupid roller coaster because I said so,’” His imitation of my nagging voice would’ve made me laugh before. Now, it was bringing me onto the verge of tears. “Since clearly no one’s told you this before - not everything is about you! You just want it to be because you’re a whiny, little brat! You’re so spoiled rotten that you can’t even see how far down it goes. If you did, you’d know that you’re rotten to the core and that nothing will ever satisfy you. Especially me.”

His words had done more than sear me. They pierced me. They ripped me. They destroyed me. When he called me Brat, I thought it was endearing. Now, looking back, I realize - no, that’s just how little he thought of me. 

As I came to the conclusion, I stopped dead in my tracks on the pavement. 

I was done chasing Spencer.

His face had fallen from its anger, indicating he was apologetic, but I was beyond accepting his sorry excuses anymore. I couldn’t stand to look at him so I looked behind me to find our car at least a football field away. I guess in many ways, I’d gone the whole nine yards. 

“This is what you wanted right?” I turned back to him momentarily. My voice scared me how calm it was because, inside, I was boiling with rage. “Well, here you go, Spence. Have all the fucking space you want.” 

It was usually me watching his back while he walked away, and now, he was watching mine. 

“(Y/n), wait!” 

And for the briefest second, it actually felt good to be the first one to leave. 

I was free. 

_ _ _

To my dismay and relief, when I walked into work the next morning, he wasn’t there. I would’ve looked for him with more than a cursory glance except I was stuck on looking at something strange in the bullpen that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But as I walked further in, a blaring siren went off in my head. 

Spencer’s desk is completely empty. 

I instantly sorted through my purse for my phone to reach Prentiss when I noticed something more. 

I had been desperate to cling onto any notion that he still loved me, and there it was, just sitting on his desk. Proof that the man I loved was still in there somewhere.

The top three pictures from the carnival photo booth.

I laughed, as I always did, thinking about how much we had to exert ourselves to be positioned in a semi-adequate way. In the next wave, I felt profoundly empty. He had kept the pictures all these years, and now that I finally get to see them, he’s left me.

As I brought my hand to my face to clear the tears pooling at my lower lashes, I saw that my finger had an ink smear on the pad of it. There was nowhere else I could’ve obtained it except for if there was writing on the back of the photos. 

What I read when I turned it over was as follows. 

I want to be this guy for you again, (y/n). I just don’t know how. 

I just don’t know if I can.

No matter how much I’ve changed, one thing’s still the same.

I love you. 

I should’ve focused on the message, but all that I could focus on was that if I managed to smear the ink, that meant it was fresh, written just now. 

He was still here. 

I pocketed the photos and abandoned my purse, only carrying with me the phone that I forgot to use to dial Prentiss. After a moment’s indecision, I figured that taking the stairs would be faster than the elevator, and I bounded down the steps without hesitation. 

“Spencer!” I yelled into the parking structure when I reached the ground floor. The sound of me bursting through the door caught the attention of Anderson, who was getting out of his car. 

“I just saw him leave.” Anderson threw his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the exit. I knew, even in my state of mind, there was no feasible reality where I could reach him on foot. I had to call him. 

I pleaded to myself for him to pick up with every ring of my phone. 

“(Y/n),” He said like a statement instead of a question. Again, he’d anticipated I’d do this. He probably picked it up not even having to look at the caller ID but knowing it was me and no one else. 

“I don’t need you to be the guy you were before, Spencer. I just need you to bend a little bit. I know we’re both stubborn people, but if we can just find a halfway point-”

“(Y/n), (y/n),” He was settling me and the sentences that were coming out of my mouth at 100 mph. 

“I’ll bend if you bend.” I promised. 

The static of the call filled my ears until his voice finally did.

“For everyone else, I bend ... for you, I break.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

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[sunder-soul]

𝖜𝖍𝖎𝖙𝖊 𝖉𝖔𝖛𝖊

❶·❷·❸·❹·❺·❻

Chapter Two: He’s very, very beautiful. Black hair in tidy waves, dark, hooded eyes lined with sooty lashes, full lips, angled jaw, and all his fine features illuminated by the glow from the pub behind you. If you’d met him anywhere else you might have blushed, but here, now, you have to resist the urge to arch a brow. Wordcount: 2.3k Content warning: language, allusions to bigotry.

Story Tags: @crazytwentythrees

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McCollin slams the Records Room logbook down on your desk and you nearly jump out of your skin. “I told you to drop it,” he says coolly.

Your initials are scribbled on the page half a dozen times over the past two weeks. You look up at him wide-eyed. “I…”

“You were only supposed to watch that stupid trial once,” he interrupts, eyes hard.

“Look, I’ve found stuff, McCollin! Merope Gaunt? She ran away with Tom Riddle, for Christs’ sake, they got married and everything! That’s why Morfin was talking about her in his trial!”

He falters, brow furrowing. “How did you find out that –”

“I’ve been doing some work on the case – off hours,” you add hastily at his expression, “and look, I know you said it was pretty cut and dry, but in that whole trial no one actually asks him why he did it –”

McCollin laughs a little unkindly. “No one asked him why he did it? Do you hear yourself? Didn’t you just say his sister married a Muggle?”

“Yeah but she died ages ago,” you say desperately, leaning forward.

“Why does that matter?”

“Morfin was released from Azkaban in ’28 and came home to find his sister gone. He lived right around the corner from those Muggles, McCollin, so why did he wait fifteen years to kill them?”

McCollin gives you a deeply sceptical look. “Your problem is that he didn’t kill them sooner?”

“My problem is there’s no reason that he didn’t kill them sooner!” you correct. “If he’s really such a nutcase, why did it take him that long to get revenge on the Riddles?”

“Maybe he didn’t know who she’d run off with until then,” he shrugs.

“Then how did he suddenly find out in ‘43?”

McCollin sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Look, kiddo, I’m gonna do you a favour. I’ll let all this slide if you drop this thing now and stop letting it distract you.”

You gape at him. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am.”

“But I’ve found –!”

“I don’t care what you’ve found, I need you to do your job,” McCollin snaps, waving at your desk. “So some pure-blood nutter murdered some Muggles because his sister ran off with one of ‘em, what in Merlin’s name is so hard to understand about that?”

“She had a kid with him!” you hiss.

He hesitates again. “You found a birth certificate?”

“No, but she died in a Muggle orphanage and was buried in the pauper’s yard, what do you think happened?”

McCollin, for the first time, looks somewhat doubtful. “Case never mentioned a kid…” he says slowly.

Hope sparks in your chest. “And where was Tom Riddle whilst his wife died in childbirth, huh? Where did the kid end up? Did Morfin know about them? Did Riddle even know?”

McCollin exhales a very fatigued sigh. “You’re not gonna let this go, are you.”

“No,” you say immediately.

“If you figure this out, will you get back to your actual job?”

“Yes.”

“You promise?”

You’re on the edge of your seat. “I promise.”

He grits his teeth. “Merlin… fine. What do you need?”

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

You hate Azkaban. The place is dark and cold and dripping wet, the dementors never stay quite far enough away, and the screams and sobs of the prisoners within the black stone stick in your heart for weeks afterwards.

“In and out,” McCollin mutters, pulling off his hat and casting the dementor beside you an aspersing look. “Five minutes, kiddo, and then we’re gone.”

You nod quickly and step down the long, dark corridor, peering at the parchment in your hand and checking it against the cell numbers scratched into the stone on either wall. You find him around the corner. Cell 75191.

You lift your lit wand, squinting into the darkness. “Morfin…?”

There’s the faint clinking of chains and then a skin-crawling hiss that makes your heart clench in fear, followed by a rasping, phlegmy cackle.

“Morfin Gaunt?” you try again, catching sight of movement in the corner of the cell, a figure hunched there.

He only hisses again.

“I don’t speak Parseltongue, Mr Gaunt,” you say with a forced calm, “I’m here to talk about the Riddles.”

Morfin spits at the ground. “Riddles,” he growls. “Fucking Riddles, fucking filthy Muggle Riddles in their filthy stinking house, got what was coming didn’t they? Got what they deserved in the end –”

“You knew about Merope and Tom Riddle, didn’t you, Mr Gaunt?” you interrupt, hands shaking in the aching cold. You bury your non-wand hand in your pocket in vain – the chill of the prison is all-permeating.

“Filthy Riddle… filthy scumsucker…”

“Why did you kill the Riddles in 1943?”

He barks a hideous laugh. “Muggle scum they were, had it coming, saw the light leave their eyes at the end of a wand like was intended, not my sister, not my family –”

“Why did you wait, Mr Gaunt?”

There’s silence. Your heart thrums nervously.

“You got home in 1928 but you didn’t kill the Riddles until 1943… Why didn’t you kill them sooner?” you press carefully.

Morfin doesn’t reply for a moment, and then – “Muggle scum,” he mutters a little dolefully.

“Yes but what changed?” you say, patience fraying a bit. “What changed in 1943? Did something happen?”

“Scourge of the earth… got to get rid of ‘em all, that Grindelwald fellow had the right idea, get rid of ‘em –”

There’s a sound like a heavy door closing in the distance and you’re suddenly very aware that you don’t have a lot of time left. “Did you know about Merope’s child?” you ask pressingly.

Morfin descends into a coughing fit and spits what sounds like a hefty wad of mucus onto the floor of his cell. “Knew it,” he says darkly, “I knew it, that slut…”

“You knew?”

“Looked just like him, didn’t he?” he snarls.

“Who?” you say at once.

“He looked just like that nasty, filthy, disgusting Muggle… Well, they’re all dead now.” He laughs nastily again. “Rotting in the ground where they belong, Muggle scum…”

You can hear McCollin calling for you but your head is spinning. He waited… he waited fifteen years…

If Merope’s son had been born at the end of ’26, he would have been sixteen in July of ’43.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

“I know why he waited,” you breathe to McCollin the second you’re back in the safety of the Ministry.

“Why?”

“I know why he waited to kill the Riddles – Merope’s son came to find him – maybe he was looking for his family, he probably grew up in that orphanage – he really did only find out about her kid in ’43 and it made him snap and –”

“Slow down,” McCollin frowns, hand on your shoulder. “What are you saying?”

“You have to get me access to Morfin’s memory of that day,” you say intensely.

His face and his hand fall in unison. “You said that if I got you in to see Morfin, you’d let it go,” he says sharply.

“I know but Jesus McCollin! Shouldn’t we find her son?”

“This is getting out of hand,” he mutters, turning and walking off across the huge entrance hall.

“Please,” you say, following him. “Please! I –”

“No,” he says flatly.

“But –!”

“What, you want to watch murders now?”

“McCollin, just listen –”

“I’m serious, drop it,” he drawls, stepping into an elevator and turning to point at you. “I don’t wanna hear you say the name Riddle again.”

The elevator dings, the door slides shut on McCollin’s serious face, and you sigh in frustration.

“Riddle?”

Your head lifts in surprise. The voice had come from beside you, a very formally-dressed old man with curated grey hair, gold glasses, and a haughty expression. “Yes, sir…?” you ask slowly.

“Ah yes, a real shame, all that,” the man sighs, looking up at the elevators expectantly.

You blink. You recognise the man from around the Ministry, but you can’t think of a single conceivable reason why a senior member of the International Confederation of Wizards knows the name of a Muggle murdered eight years ago. “…Yes, it was.”

“Such a waste,” he shakes his head sagely. “He could have gone far.”

You don’t know what to say. “You’re… you’re talking about Tom Riddle, sir…?”

“Yes, of course,” the man titters, “Slughorn recommended him to me personally – assured me he’d go far. A real talent, he said.”

Something is definitely not right, but the man’s elevator dings and he steps inside at once, expensive robes swirling as he turns. “To end up in Knockturn Alley of all places,” he sighs, “and to think... the boy could have been Minister for Magic one day.”

The doors shut before your gobsmacked face.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

“So let me get this straight,” Mori says lowly, setting down another drink for you. “You think the kid’s here? In Knockturn Alley?”

“I think so,” you murmur as Mori takes your empty glass away. “Either that or some poor schmuck with the exact same name as a murdered Muggle is walking around completely unrelated to all this shit.”

“Have you found anything on the kid?”

You nod blankly. “Looked up the name and found a ton of stuff straight away – star pupil at Hogwarts, won a ton of awards, Prefect, Head-boy –”

“Sounds like a square,” Mori snorts.

“He fell off the map a bit after school,” you frown, leaning forward on your forearms. “Found an address from a few years back but doesn’t seem up-to-date. The guy definitely mentioned Knockturn Alley though, so –”

“If you told me a name, I’ll probably know him.”

You shoot him a nervous look. “I dunno, Mori, I’m really pissing McCollin off with this already. If he finds out I’m leaking names –”

“Well I’ll tell you this for free, no one down this way’ll take kindly to someone in Ministry robes poking their nose around,” he says darkly.

You sigh and take a sip from your drink. “I know.”

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

You leave just past midnight, giving Mori a wave as you grab your cloak and head for the door, already reaching for your wand to Apparate as you push it open –

You walk straight into someone. “Oh,” you exclaim, stepping back. “I'm so sorry.”

“Not at all.”

You look up at the voice in surprise, smooth and pleasant and velvety. The face behind it is even better; he’s very, very beautiful. Black hair in tidy waves, dark, hooded eyes lined with sooty lashes, full lips, angled jaw, and all his fine features illuminated by the glow from the pub behind you as he pushes the door wide and holds it for you, stepping aside with a polite twist to his lips to let you out first.

If you’d met him anywhere else you might have blushed, but here, now, you have to resist the urge to arch a brow. He’s not exactly what you’d normally expect from customers of Moribund’s.

“Thank you,” you say evenly, stepping past him and rather theatrically hoping he’s not some sort of pretty-faced creature that would strike when your back’s turned –

“You’re from the Ministry?”

You hesitate. His question was perfectly curious and well-warranted – the purple robes you were still wearing were also not what one might normally expect from customers of Moribund’s. “I am,” you say quietly, pulling out your wand.

“Are you here on business or for pleasure?” he smiles a little. It makes him even more beautiful. It makes you more suspicious.

“A bit of both,” you say truthfully, thinking of your conversation with Mori.

“Rather strange for someone of your profession to patron a place like this,” says the young man, head tilting a fraction.

You hesitate for a moment, but if he intends on giving you trouble, it feels like a good idea to establish that you have people looking out for you around here. “I’m friends with the barman.”

“In which case it's odd I’ve not seen you more, then,” he says very smoothly, the little twist to his lips returning, “since I’m something of a regular.”

But you’ve had quite enough. “You’re letting the warmth out,” you say politely, inclining your head at the door he’s still holding open as you lift your wand. “Enjoy your drinks.”

“Would you care to join me?”

You hesitate, eyes flicking back to the young man. His head is still tilted slightly as he watches you, and suddenly you can’t tell if the curl to his lips is more attractive or unnerving.

“I’d very much like the company,” he smiles, white, straight teeth, too handsome, too gorgeous.

Alarm bells are going off in your head. Too smarmy. He knows he’s beautiful, that much was certain, and something about him is giving you the creeps in a way that feels strangely familiar. Like you’ve met him before. “No,” you say clearly, “but thanks for the invitation.”

“Ah, I should have known that someone like you would already be spoken for,” he says with a knowing nod, charming and good-natured.

“No,” you frown. You can’t tell what’s rubbing you the wrong way about him, but there’s something.

His brow lifts slightly, like your response surprised him. “Not a fan of the drink, then?”

You snort a light laugh. “No, I am.”

There’s a beat of silence. “An early morning, perhaps?” the young man says just as lightly – though there’s a very faint edge to his expression that you clock at once. He can’t figure out why you’ve rejected him. What an arrogant asshole…

You sigh a bit shortly, liking him less by the second. “Goodnight,” you say pointedly, trying to lift your wand again but –

“Have I offended you somehow, madam?” he asks, sounding slightly amused. “If I have it wasn’t my intention to do so.”

You shoot him a look that is unapologetically annoyed. “You haven’t offended me, you’ve disrespected me,” you say curtly.

His eyes sparkle, his lips curl even more. “By asking you to join me for a drink?”

“By refusing to take my answer graciously,” you retort smoothly, “I said no. I don’t appreciate being cajoled.”

Some of the humour dissipates from his face, and you seize the opportunity to escape.

“Goodnight.”

And you lift your wand in a swift motion and vanish before he can interrupt again.

☆゜·。。·゜゜·。。·゜★

❶·❷·❸·❹·❺·❻

Reply/message me to get added to the tag list! 💖

[janetbrown711]

"Yakko is so going to kill me," Wakko? Lol

It had been 28 years since Queen Angelina the First died.

21 years since Yakko became king and married Max.

16 years since Wakko had become an uncle.

and 15 years since Wakko had decided to travel the world and become a "representative" or diplomat of Warnerstock.

And Wakko was happy with that. He loved getting to travel and go on diplomatic missions for Yakko- it made him feel important. Plus, he was one of many so if Wakko wanted to stay home and hang out with his nieces and nephew, he could. It was pretty sweet.

Sure, he was more than a little hesitant at first, but he had grown a lot in the last 24 years in therapy with Doctor Scratchnsniff. He was a lot better at socializing, as well as knowing his own limitations. He wasn't perfect, but he was a lot better.

And happier.

Wakko was a lot happier.

He was on such a diplomatic mission in the town of Millstone- a poorer town he was supposed to report on so Yakko could send them what food and supplies they were in need of.

Well- that was the main task at hand, but he also knew there was an excellent woodworker in town and he wanted to get a little something for his nieces and nephews (even if he knew they would find it a little lame).

And so there he was, walking through the town market on a brisk but not snowy winter's day. He browsed through stall after stall of trinkets, with guards not too far behind him (he liked his space but knew guards were necessary). He looked over trinkets and other interesting things as the salespeople offered him deal after deal upon recognizing him (not a lot of people wore bright red hats like his). Wakko refused most (except a few desserts just for himself as a treat for a hard day's work), as he still hadn't found the woodworker he had come into the market in the first place to find.

Eventually, he did spot it and was about to make his way over, when he bumped into a stranger on the street.

"Oh- I'm sorry, I-" he immediately went to apologize, but the stranger had already moved quite a bit away.

Wakko shook his head a moment before continuing on to the stall. To his surprise though, when he reached his hand in his pocket, he found that all of his money was gone.

"Halt! Thief!" One of Wakko's guards shouted from far behind, and Wakko immediately turned his head to see the stranger he had bumped into weaving through the crowd of people and getting away from the guards as fast as they could in whatever way they could. Leaping over boxes, climbing onto tops of stalls, whatever needed to happen, they did it, alluding the guard's grasp. It was quite impressive, if Wakko must say so himself.

One of the guards eventually turned and saw Wakko just standing around and watching the escape unfold and ran over to him.

"S-sorry, your highness. We'll get your money th-theif in no time," The guard huffed a moment.

"Great," Wakko sighed as the guard went back to being just a bit behind him as he's supposed.

"Yep," Wakko had no doubt they would, so he went back to continuing to browse the fine handy work of the woodworker.

"They won't catch them, you know," The woodworker, a gruff-looking tiger, said.

"What do you mean by that?" Wakko asked, looking up.

"O-oh your highness, I didn't- well..." The tiger stammered. "I meant to say that they're rather... difficult to capture is all."

"Do you know where they live?" Wakko asked. The woodworker shook his head.

"Like I said- they always avoid capture. They probably live on the outskirts or deep within some alleyways or something."

Wakko pondered that a moment.

"Thank you for your information... when I get my money back, I'll be sure to return to make my purchases," Wakko nodded at him, before going back to the guard.

"I've decided I'm going to take a stroll rather than wait around in this busy market, wait for me by the carriage," He said.

"Y-your highness, wouldn't you rather I stay with you for your protection? It's clear this town isn't safe," The guard said nervously.

"Relax, I'll be okay," he smiled. "Plus, according to that tiger over there, the most dangerous criminal in this town is already being pursued, so I've nothing to worry about."

"Well, I- uh-"

"I order you to wait for me at the carriage," Wakko rolled his eyes, not really comfortable with it, but knowing it was necessary. The guard nodded, and went on his merry way, leaving Wakko alone to search for his thief.

Wakko took the tiger's advice and searched every alleyway he could find or any place a hideout could possibly be. Granted, he didn't have much in terms of street smarts about these things, but he had read some books about secret hideaways. Still- his search was mostly unfruitful, and before too long he noted that the sun was starting to set and the wind began to blow harder, meaning he didn't really have that much time before dark, and people would start to head to their homes (something he ought to have been doing too). However, he was determined to bring them back some of those special carvings no matter what, so he kept looking.

As he predicted, the wind did get stronger as he continued on his way, making him clutch his jacket closer to him. He really should be heading back to the carriage, but now it felt more like he had to see this through. He couldn't just- not bring something for everyone, that's rude.

And well... not only that, but there was something off about his pocket-thief he just couldn't put a finger on. He barely caught a glance at them but they were small- short and skinny. Wakko wanted to figure out how to help them somehow, ask for some advice on what to put on the report? Who knows. He just wanted to see them, talk to them probably.

After walking a bit more, a larger gust of wind blew through, so strongly that it shifted the debris of an alleyway nearby. It piqued his interest, so he decided to invesitage, moving the pieces of wood and boxes and crates that blocked it off, before finding a makeshift covered in dirt, rainwater, metal sheets, and all sorts of garbage, with an old tattered quilt as a possible doorway.

That had to be where they were.

"Look, I know you're awfully clever and did completely blindside me, but I think it'd be nice to have a conversation, wouldn't you?" Wakko asked, leaning against the top of the shelter, before it shifted and he quickly stepped back.

"We could go somewhere nice and warm, get you some food or something with that money..." Wakko sighed.

"Look, I want to help, okay?" He said, waiting to see if he'd get a response. When he didn't, he frowned.

He then heard a very weak, very long cough come from within.

Wakko bit his cheek.

"Are you okay?" He asked.

No response.

He debated with himself quickly before deciding to open the blanket door to see what was the matter with his pocket thief.

To his surprise, the robber was no more than a teenager, all curled up on the filthy floor shivering almost to death. Their fur was matted and curly, their clothes filthy and torn in places, though they sure had a sense of style... oh, there was his money.

However, most concerningly, their face was a bright shade of red and they looked very, very weak. He felt their forehead- burning hot.

They were most likely dying- if not now, then soon.

"How could someone go from running and leaping around to suddenly sick and dying in a matter of an hour?" Wakko thought to himself, before shaking his head and debating as to what he should do.

"Well... I can't just leave them to die. Look at them for crying out loud- they're a child."

"Well duh, but like- what do you know of childcare? What are you even supposed to do-? How would you even explain this??? 'Oh hi Yakko, here's this random dying kid I found who robbed me blind, can you make them not die?'"

"I can't leave them though..."

Wakko sighed, taking off his coat.

"Yakko is so gonna kill me," He said, wrapping the teenager in his thick jacket before scooping them up and away from their little shelter. Good god, they were a sickly little thing.

Quickly he made his way back to the carriage, and when the guards opened their mouths to question what on earth Wakko was doing, he silenced them.

"Just-.... take me home, alright?" He sighed, letting himself in to the carriage.

"O-of course your majesty," The guards took the orders well, closing the door behind Wakko as he sat down.

The thief in his arms grumbled and opened their eyes a little bit.

"If you're asking me what I'm doing, I have no idea," Wakko sighed, looking out the window as the carriage began to move back home to Warnerstock.

He never did stop by that woodcarver stall again.

Oh well, looks like he was bringing something else home, whoopie.

...

Yakko was so going to kill him.

Part 1