#Pretty sure I know the admiral would be furious. Even more so now actually since if it had WORKED itdve fucked smth

[isaacathom]

In the voice call earlier the guy who plays Vandervest in our dnd game was all "He trusts Naielle. She's so... pliable!" And it genuinely takes every ounce of my being not to tell him that, which generally true, she has LITERALLY gone behind his back after one of his orders and undermined it. She's literally done that. But neither the player or character know!!! And now we're doing a mutiny so its.like well I dodged one specific bullet and I won't be court martialed for that first thing, just for this second thing, so, well!

[yourmidnightlover]

never go back

Summary: spencer notices how your boyfriend takes advantage of you and finally does something about it.

TW: titty sucking, oral (female receiving), cheating, dom!spencer, scratching, slapping (only one), cursing, choking, spencer dirty talk lol, penetrative sex, creampie. *let me know if i missed anything*

WC: 3,724

A/N - i'm using noah as the 'other man' schtick in probably all of my future one shots bc i can't find it within myself to create a new character each and every time. so your douche of a bf will always be noah miller. if you ever get a nice bf i'll be sure to change his name but for now this is what we're working with. got it? got it.

masterlist

-------------------------------

there are many things that people should go back to. schooling, maybe an old job, an old vacation spot.

your boyfriend was not one of those things.

mostly because your boyfriend sucked.

it was now a fact that spencer reid himself had come to believe quite a while ago and now, well now he had reason.

he had always felt as though you were too good for noah, similar for practically anyone in existence (himself included). he was always a complete ass to you no matter the circumstance.

there was one time the entire team had been back really late from a case that took a toll on all of you. it was emotionally and physically draining. the flight back had been delayed because of weather issues in the state you had been in, meaning you couldn't leave until days after it was solved.

any time you had gone to answer the phone, spencer would be able to see your stance and body language through the glass window. you had been apologizing for something you couldn't even control. you would narrow your brows the way you only did when you were being yelled at. you bit your lip the way you did when you were being made to feel guilty.

he was guilt tripping you for something you couldn't even control.

when you had gotten back it wasn't any better. noah had been giving you the cold shoulder. he was defensive when you asked what was wrong.

and that was only 3 weeks into the relationship.

after being together for 2 months, you had gotten flowers delivered on your desk. you assumed they were from your boyfriend, reasonably so, and went to go thank him. spencer saw the shock in your eyes when you saw your boyfriend huddled in the corner with some new intern. spencer saw the look in your eye change from sadness to anger in the blink of his own.

you took a deep breath, and walked away from the situation, completely missing the way he tucked the intern's hair behind her ear as he leaned in to whisper something to make her giggle. when you got back to your desk you threw the flowers in the garbage can, not even bothering to read the note.

it was pretty indirect, but looking into it he realized it was an issue that should've been addressed. every time the team would go out together, everyone was clearly invited. you would always decline because 'noah wanted to take me out tonight' or 'noah said he needs me, so i'll have to rain check'.

it wasn't because you were a bad person, the opposite actually. it was because noah was taking advantage of your kindness.

because any time you needed him, 'noah's out with the boys' or 'noah had to work late' or, here's a kicker, 'noah had a hard time at work'. as if you don't have a hard time looking at dead bodies while he just has to write up reports.

even when you got injured during a case, shot in the shoulder, noah seemed as though he couldn't have cared less. he wouldn't even go to your apartment to visit you while you were in recovery because 'noah didn't have time to visit'.

spencer could even recall when you went out with the girls one night, spencer being the designated driver, that you had told them how 'noah didn't want you to dress too provocatively so you had to wear something more modest'.

now, spencer doesn't care all to much about what you wear because, frankly, it's none of his business. but now that he heard how noah cared oh-so-much, he decided to wrack his brain for the 'provocative' outfits you've worn. there was not a single one that anyone should make a comment about. you looked stunning no matter what you wore, so you'd grab any man's attention no matter the clothing on your body.

but spencer? he made sure to never be that much of an asshole to you. he made sure to make up for him being an asshole.

he would grab you some morning coffee like you always had before you had a boyfriend. he would make sure to tell you that you looked lovely when you were able to go out with the team. he would visit you when you injured yourself and were lonely, he even stayed back for a few days with you to help you get through it.

hell, he was the one to get you the flowers. you had been having a rough week and spencer thought it might cheer you up. he had gifted you a bouquet of 12, blue chiffon flowers because those were your favorite.

but this was his breaking point. you had come to his apartment, once again in the middle of the night, talking about noah fucking miller cheating on you.

he had done it once before when he was 'out with the boys' you decided to stop by when he said he'd be back, wanting to just be the amazing girlfriend that you are. so when you walk in and hear your boyfriend moaning along with another woman that isn't you, you immediately run back out. you run back out and drive all the way to spencer's.  

and here you are again. spencer wasn't mad at you, it was noah he was mad at. he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

spencer had always liked you, no, he's always loved you. everything about you. how could he not? you're perfect.

but loving you how he does and seeing you being used as a toy to fuck for a certain noah miller not only made his heart ache but also made his blood boil.

spencer wasn't an idiot. he had heard the way the old morgan had referred to women. the thing is, noah is way more of a fuckboy than the old morgan ever was. and that scared spencer to pieces. he knew that you would only be missing out on team outings just to get fucked by a douchebag. he knew that the only reason said douchebag wouldn't visit you was because you couldn't fuck. he knew that the reason said douchebag was cornering that intern was to fuck her, too.

so when you arrived at spencer's place, this time you weren't crying. you were furious. you were angry and upset, as was spencer.

"he did it again, spence," you breathed out as you paced across his living room floor. "i was supposed to meet him in a few hours but i was going to surprise him and i caught him with another tramp! i didn't even confront him. i just- i just left!"

"cheated? noah?" he asked as if he didn't believe it at first, not wanting to seem like as much of a dick as noah.

"yes! cheated. god! i am so ANGRY!" you ran your hand through your hair, a grunt leaving your mouth. "and... and frustrated! and... UGH!" you sighed aggressively.

"and what?" spencer asked as he stood up, slowly making his way to you. "what else?" he said, his hand now brushing that stubborn strand of hair behind your ear.

"i-i'm..." you trailed off, getting lost in his beautiful eyes.

if you were honest with yourself, you'd admit how much you loved spencer. but you thought he'd never love you like that. not since you helped him through jj getting married. he really thought she was it for him, at least that's what you'd come to think he believed. over the years you had grown so much closer and grown such an attraction for each other that the other person knew about. it was ironic, truly.

"say it, y/n," spencer leaned over you, his lips ghosting over yours. "i need to hear you say it."

"god, just kiss me," you said, your hands flying to the back of his hair to push his mouth to yours.

there was no hesitation from spencer to give you everything he had. his hand on the side of your face remained there as his other hand drifted to your waist to pull you closer to his body. your tongues met fervently with covetous, passion, and longing yet with just gentle firmness that felt protecting and as if it was how everything was supposed to be.

"please, spencer," you quietly whispered once you unlatched from one another.

"please what, princess," he asked, his hand running through your hair.

"i just... i need you," she pleaded with him, her hands still tugging gently on his hair. "please," you put your foreheads together, breathing in each others air as you silently begged him to help you in any way that he could.

"i'd do anything for you," he whispered so delicately as if the entire team were standing right beside you. "you know i'd do anything for you."

"then do something," you demanded.

spencer took action by kissing you just as intensely as before, this time his hands went to your ass. he grabbed your thighs to signal for you to jump, once you did you wrapped your legs around his torso as he carried you into his bedroom. he set you down just in front of the bed before you began to undo his shirt, him returning the favor by undoing yours.

"god, i've wanted you for so long," he growled, nipping gently at your earlobe as he laid you back on the bed. "lift your hips," he ordered, you obeyed his every command. you always would. "good girl," he praised as he ran his hands down your now bare waist.

"please," you begged, your hips bucking up to get any source of friction. "spencer..." you trailed off.

"i know, princess. i know," he said before climbing on top of you, connecting your lips with his once again, this time much more eager than before if that were possible.

as you arched your back, he took the opportunity to unclasp the hook on your bra. you shrugged it off your shoulders to allow him to throw the bra somewhere else in his room. he finally took a breath, removing his lips from yours to admire the view in front of him.

"god, you're so beautiful," he growled before placing gentle but eager kisses along the tops of your breasts, massaging the one his mouth wasn't on.

he pressed his knee between your legs, allowing you to buck your hips up to get that release you wanted so bad. you whined as he took your nipple in his mouth, his tongue flicking past it rapidly as he occasionally nibbled on it gently.

"spen-spencer," you ran your hands through his hair, tugging gently on the roots.

"mmm," he sat his head up, trailed kisses up your throat. "god, i love you so much."

"i-i love you," you moaned, pulling his head up to connect your lips together. "i love you so so much."

"i'm so glad to hear that," he huffed a sigh of relief. "because otherwise it'd be awkward when i did this," he began trailing kisses down your body, leading down towards your center. "i'll show you what it's like to be with a man that actually loves and respects you, yea? show you what it feels like to actually be pleased by a man? what it's like to be with a real man?" he teased.

his fingers trailed around your entrance, gathering your arousal that'd been building for what felt like ages. he pressed gentle kisses around your pussy before finally connecting his lips with your clit, a low groan emitting from your body because of the contact.

"yes, please," you shot your head back, relishing in the feeling of the direct skin contact.

"hey," spencer slapped your thigh, your head shot back up to see him between your legs, a truly beautiful sight that you'd never get tired of. "eyes on me," he demanded before going back down on you, not breaking eye contact as he brought out sounds from you that you weren't even sure you could make. "talk to me, princess. let me know how it feels."

"fe-feels so good," you sighed, taking your breasts in your hands and massaging them. "i-i can-can't even think," you stuttered out, too caught up in the pleasure to form a coherent sentence.

you had felt so good as he sucked on your clit, succeeding in bringing you closer to the edge than noah ever has, but when he inserted two fingers into your entrance...

"oh my fuck!" your hands shot down to grab onto his locks, pushing him further into your body, a low groan leaving him.

his fingers didn't stop their work. he curled them at just the right spot, sending you flying over the edge. spencer used his free hand to grab onto your thigh to keep them from closing in completely on his head, still working you through your high. he placed a kiss on your clit once more before he brought his head up to you, connecting your lips passionately.

"could noah ever make you come like that? huh? could he make you feel so good you could barely even think?" he grabbed your chin in his hands, holding it in place to look at him as you shook your head the best you could. "no?"

"mm-mm," you tried to shake your head 'no' once more.

"did you think of him while i was going down on you? were you thinking about how he fucked that little tramp?" he asked harshly, you shook your head 'no' again. "oh, what were you thinking, princess?" he finally released your face so you could speak.

"ab-about how well you know my body. about how, how good you looked between my legs. about how much i love you," you replied quickly, knowing exactly what to say.

"right answer," he connected your lips once more. "what do you want, love?" he asked, peppering soft kisses along your jaw where his hands once held your throat firmly.

"you. i-i want you in-inside me," you swallowed, your hand finding his and pulling it up to your lips to press a kiss to it, then another, then another, then another. "please, doctor?" you used your best puppy dog eyes you knew he couldn't resist.

"god, call me that again," he rasped lowly.

"what... doctor?" you took his hand and started sucking on his fingers, letting them slip in and out slowly and then moving onto the next.

"fuck, yes," he growled as he pressed another kiss to your lips before lining himself up at your center. "are you sure, princess?" he traced your jaw with the fingers you were previously sucking on.

"yes, sir," you nodded. "i'm sure."

you felt him slowly push inside of you slowly to allow you to adjust to his size. you had your suspicions of how big he was, but feeling him inside of you made it all much more real.

"fuck, you're so tight," he moaned into your ear quietly as he slowly pulled back out, going in just as slow.

"sp-spence-"

"wrong," he slapped your face gently, a whimper leaving your lips before he grasped your face to make you look him in the eyes.

"doc-doctor," you corrected yourself.

"good girl," he said, feeling your pussy clench from the praise. "oh you like that?" he felt it again. "maybe you just like hearing me talk, yea?" his pace began picking up slowly. "you like hearing how this pussy makes me feel? how tight... and warm... and wet it is?"

"u--uh huh," you nodded your head the best you could as he began thrusting much more rapid, hitting that special spot inside of you with each movement.

"it seems like you haven't felt this good in a long time huh? haven't had your pussy pounded like this in a while?" he asked as he was catching his breath.

"ne-never, doctor," you confirmed, hands reaching around his back and dragging your nails down, surely leaving scratch marks all down them.

"fuck," he growled. "noah never made you feel this good princess? never made you forget how to speak in sentences? never knew how to get you going like this?"

"n-no, no! never! god, never!" you cried as you pulled his body even closer to you. "i-i'm close, please!"

"you wanna come all over my dick, yea? you want to show me how much your pussy loves it when a real man fucks it?"

that was it to let that spring burst inside of you, parts flying everywhere. you cried his name as he worked you through your orgasm, holding onto his shoulders and hair to keep you grounded.

"cum inside me, please," you begged. "fi-fill me up."

"fuck, whatever you want, princess," he kept pounding into you at a rapid pace. "god, i'm gonna come inside you, and send you back to that scumbag of a boyfriend so he can see that you're mine now. so he can see what happens when his girlfriend is mistreated and fucked by someone who knows what they're doing, yea?"

"yea, yea!" you whined, nails digging back into his skin as he released his load into you, thrusting it gently back inside after.

"god, i love you so much," he moaned into your ear, pressing a kiss to your cheek by your ear.

"i love you," you replied, stroking his hair to help him come down, him still inside of you. he began thrusting inside of you once again.

"don't want any of it to spill out before you get to him," he felt you clench around him one more time. "you're very responsive, princess. i like that about you."

"it-it's just you, spence. it's always been you," you pulled him in for another kiss.

this one was full of passion but not the kind of eagerness. it was full of desire and longing, pent up emotions flowing out into one another fluidly.

"now let me go see my soon-to-be-ex-boyfriend," you huffed as he pulled out of you, wincing from the overstimulation. "i'll see you later?"

"i'll see you later," he pressed a kiss to your forehead before helping you gather your clothes.

driving back to his apartment, you felt rather giddy with yourself. should you have felt bad? absolutely not. he's a manipulative asshole who's used you for sex on numerous occasions, so he deserved the bittersweet irony of what was coming to him.

*get it, coming to him? lol i'm sorry i had to :)*

you knocked on the door softly, greeted by a rather chipper noah who grabbed your face as soon as he saw you, connecting your lips. his kiss was nothing like spencer's. his lips weren't as soft and tentative. they weren't plump and round, they were harsh and rough and unpleasant.

he quickly led you to the bedroom, not to your surprise. he sat down on the bed, you straddled his hips, acting as if it were spencer instead - which was pretty hard to do after knowing what he was like in the sack.

you felt his boner through his pants quickly after you got on top of him. then when he flipped you over and pulled your pants and underwear down, he was met with a surprise.

"someone's excited to see me," he chuckled before licking a thick stripe from your slit to clit, very aggressive to where it almost hurt to have the pressure. "god you taste so good, doll."

he continued at this for a while, inserting his tongue to your hole very once in a while and licking up yours and spencer's arousal with it. you faked your moans and whimpers as his ministrations became more eager, not really getting you anywhere.

after he was finished with your turn - no, he didn't even make you cum - he laid back on the bed as if he were waiting for you to get on top of him again.

"actually," you stood up from the bed, pulling up your clothes with you. "i'm done with this. we're over."

you watched his face as he took in the information just released to him. it changed from surprised and shocked, to confused, to disgusted, to angry and frustrated.

"what the fuck?" he sat up from the bed, a disgruntled look on his face. "you wait until after you cum to tell me this?" he walked over to you, arms flailing in the air.

"yea. i did. and by the way, i didn't cum," you informed him. "that's something you've never really been good at making me do. although i'm not sure how you've been able to convince me to do anything with the way you treat me."

"what do you mean? i'm a good gu-"

"shut up for one second, please," you rolled your eyes, running your hand through your hair. "i know you've cheated on me numerable times. i stayed because i thought that maybe there was a reason, but i've come to realize that i was just... settling with you," you shrugged.

"you've treated me like crap since this 'relationship' started and i'm tired of it. i know someone who not only treats me with respect and kindness, but can also actually make me cum. shocker," you chuckled.

"who is this asshole? what the hell-"

"i wasn't finished, sweetie," you spat out viciously. "he's not an asshole. you're the asshole. you're the one that's getting dumped. so this is goodbye," you turned around to walk out of his room before leaving him with one more thought. "how did his cum taste with mine?" you tilted your head innocently, smiling at his shocked face as he realized what you meant before walking out.

and you were never more glad that you didn't have to go back to him anymore.

taglist:

@muffin-cup​ @greenprisca​ @averyhotchner​ 

[asagi-red-wolf]

We all knew this was gonna happen so here’s an AU absolutely no one wants

Vivziepop-Yuri On Ice

wait no hear me out

Stolas the bored and lonely silver-haired charmer who’s attracted entirely to One Mess On Skates with massive self-esteem issues except Blitz’s anxiety presents as anger more than it does nervousness or depression but Stolas doesn’t know this at first (this poor child is in for An Awakening and not just a sexual one)

Blitz begrudgingly works at a hotel to pay bills and help out his twin sister, who’s in rehab after her own skating career was upended by a teenage injury, he’s kinda miserable all the time, and one of the reasons why seems to practically live at the hotel, it’s name is Angel and it’s A Problem but more on that later

Stolas: Starting today I’m going to be your coach!

Blitz: ...fuck off

The thing is, Blitz does admire Stolas, but he keeps it a closely guarded secret and he’s 100% sure Stolas is only there to humiliate him- he’s not sure how yet, but he’ll figure it out at some point

He’s also partly mad that Stolas is retiring because No, Blitz’s entire life goal was to steal your gold medals you coward and now what huh???

I actually feel like Stolas and Viktor would be weirdly similar in their- let’s call them “methods”, Stolas’s good-natured-but-ultimately-shitty-coaching-tactic teasing is right in line with Mr. Piggy Comments and I’ll be surprised if Blitz manages a full year with this man and never purposely steps on him even one time

Blitz is fine with eros though, it’s agape he has to learn, and oof that’s not easy for anyone involved....

All of this, ofcourse, is compounded by the fact that at the last GPF banquet Blitz absolutely threw himself half-naked against Stolas and most definitely dragged him to his hotel room for a night Stolas would never forget and Blitz would never remember- spoiler alert, he was absolutely a hundred times drunker than Stolas thought he was and Blitz doesn’t even remember there was a banquet in the first place

Meanwile, The Problem living in the hotel is Angel, who’s A Threat to everything Blitz holds dear

Because Angel is a fucking prodigy because ofcourse he is

That man hasn’t failed to place on the podium a single time since entering the senior division at barely-eighteen and it makes Blitz froth with rage, it feels like every competition that’s unfortunate enough to contain both Angel and Stolas is just a dick measuring contest to see who can do the most quads and score the best composition points, Stolas always edges out a win but the gap has been getting frighteningly small lately and Blitz is worried that his dream of being the first one to rip the gold off of that pretty motherfucker’s neck is going to be some blonde bimbo who gets everything he wants because he bats his eyes and looks like an ange- ooooh that’s where his name comes from....

Meanwile, Angel is completely unaware that this “rivalry” exists and honestly couldn’t care less about Stolas, the one he cares about is named Alastor, who is also constantly a front runner, but doesn’t climb quite as high or quite as fast as Angel does, something Angel personally believes is because of 1. Alastor growing up in New Orleans where skating just isn’t really A Thing like it is in New York and 2. Alastor being stiff

Alastor does dance with emotion but it’s always the same two or three emotions, he never really gets sensitive like Angel and Stolas do, he has the raw power but he lacks fluidity and grace and sometimes his composition falls flat compared to the more heart-pulling types of things Angel and Stolas compose for

Angel keeps hoping to get Alastor’s attention if he can keep beating him- because he seems competitive that way- but Alastor won’t give him the time of day, so one day he decides he’s going to force Alastor to pay attention to him by offering to be his coach

Something Alastor responds to with a very quick “Ha! No,”

Angel is half stunned, half furious, HE FUCKING FLEW TO CANADA FOR THIS SHIT?!!?

The thing is, Alastor isn’t really skating with any motivation, he’s not trying to be an Olympic athlete or anything, he doesn’t really care about winning, it’s just what his hyperfixation has been for most of his life and he’s good at it and he’s still very young so he’s doing this wile he figures himself and his future out, it’s not the same all-consuming “Win or die” situation Angel is in, where Angel had to constantly claw at the leaderboard like his life depended on it because it fucking did, because the only reason he was allowed to keep skating is because he was getting recognition from an early age and starting to earn money with it and he had it drilled into his head that if he lost he would be forced to quit

Skating is Angel’s entire life, but it’s only a temporary fixture of Alastor’s

And that kinda... breaks Angel a little bit

He really thought he had found someone- in his own age bracket and with his level of skill- that he could bond with, who felt the same way he did, loved the same things he loved, but.... no

It’s lonely, it’s isolating, and it’s actually embarrassing that Angel had been so confident his coaching speech would work only to be turned down and then told that Alastor doesn’t really care about improving in the first place

It’s all.... alot....

And that’s- surprisingly- what gets Alastor’s attention

Angel is on top of the world, there isn’t a person in figure skating who isn’t clamoring for his attention, so why is he so lonely? Why is he so sad?

Alastor is dreadfully bored with life, everything is always the same, he aches for change but has such limited interests- and limited finances, skating is expensive and moving to Canada as barely an adult to continue pursuing it is even more so- that he can’t do much to improve that bleakness

Angel has provided him with something that makes him feel..... curious again though, so he catches Angel before he leaves and agrees to let Angel coach him, on the condition that he NOT try to push anything on Alastor that’s even remotely sensual- Alastor has made it this far in a “romantic” sport without showing a single hint of love or lust and he intends to keep it that way, thank you

Angel is all too happy to agree, and they find out that they’re a strangely good match, Alastor is a calming presence who actually listens to Angel instead of writing him off as a ditzy blonde with nothing going on in his brain, and Angel is compassionate and very supportive of Alastor’s asexuality and how he wants to represent it- something Alastor can’t say anyone else in his hobby/career has been thus far, they work well together and communicate with surprising ease, a stark contrast to The Mess going on between Blitz and Stolas who barely get their shit together before it almost falls apart again, atleast at first, they get it together eventually- and eventually Alastor decides.... maybe this is where he’ll stay

He hasn’t really grown much fonder of skating, he’s learned to appreciate a few new things about it but that’s really it, but.... he has grown much fonder of Angel, and, you know, he hyperfixates, skating has been his fixation for years, now that fixation is Angel, and skating just happens to come along with it, so what’s there to complain about?

[vidalinav]

Life’s a Beach (1)

I underestimated how long this fic was, so I smashed them together. I will continue just posting snippets and writing it like that (and then smashing them together), but since most of you will already have read it, I will include a bonus scene at the end. My thank you for putting up with my unconventional writing process. 

Summary: Tarquin comes to town and Cassian is jealous. 

~

Cassian doesn’t like when Tarquin visits.  

Never mind the ban from the Summer Court or that at one point, blood rubies pilfer their court. Never mind that Summer crowns him holier than the seas and the sun. Cassian doesn’t like the ease in which he walks. He may not have his usual royal garb, but he glides along the Sidra. The mighty king out for a stroll.  

Nesta looks like his queen.  

His mate is bright and beaming, huffing laughs and smiling wide as she praises his ideas. Cassian has ideas, too.  

But Nesta isn’t interested in his ideas as he follows them around. Nesta just continues smiling. Her skin glows with the sun, the apples of her cheeks turning a pretty shade of apricot as Tarquin notes the dying rays. Are you a poet Tarquin? Cassian wants to ask, but knowing the High Lord, he just might be and Nesta fucking loves poetry.  

Her cheeks remain pink and Cassian resists grabbing her hand and dragging her back to the house. You’ll die of heatstroke; he might say if she protests. But no.  

He won’t.  

He promises to be on his best behavior.  

Even so, Cassian can’t help eyeing buildings as they pass. Just break one, he urges. One and we can ban you from the Night Court. But that might mean, Nesta spending some time in Summer, with her good friend Tarquin, who makes Nesta beam like that, make her cheeks red like that.  

All Cassian sees is red.

All Nesta looks at is Tarquin.  

“You know, I never thought someone as young as you would be so conniving.”

Conniving? Cassian isn’t paying attention, but at the word, he’s ready to deem it insulting enough to fight Tarquin if Nesta so much as gives him a look. But Nesta only listens as Tarquin speaks. Cassian can’t even read her expression. It’s blank as she stares.  

“I admire that quality,” The little high lord says.  

Admire someone else, buddy.  

Nesta only snorts, the words making her laugh.  

The light plays with her eyes as she smirks. They look bluer today. Less silver. Cassian has to think that it has something to do with Tarquin. Tarquin who brings out the blue in Nesta’s eyes, who brings pink to her cheeks. Never mind that it probably has more to do with how bright it is today.  

“You’re too smart,” he remarks, and Cassian wants to roll his eyes. Nesta is too smart, too smart to be hanging around with some pompous flatterer. “No wonder you’re good at this game.”  

“What game?” She asks, lightly, but even Cassian can hear the caution. Her voice slowing as if coaxing an answer from his lips.  

“The game we all play. These situations that have us playing with life whether we want to or not.” Nesta lilts her head curiously, waiting for further explanation and Cassian waits too, because he’s not sure he understands. Tarquin looks like he’d rather not speak of it, but he continues even so.  

“Fae are good at games–invented them really. Court politics, morality, marriage, and bargains. I have to believe you’re good at them. Not just because I’ve seen you, but because I know what Eris offered as soon as he had you in his arms… It’s always the smart ones who win these games–the most clever.”  

Nesta rolls her eyes as if his words offer no great importance, “It’s never the smart ones who win.” She counters. “Not the ones who are strongest or the most magically gifted or the one who smiles the sweetest while she glides across the floor. There is no game that you can win by being the most beautiful person in the room… No game I’d want to play anyways.”  

“Then who does win?” He urges. Tarquin almost sounds desperate for the answer, and Cassian has to wonder if Nesta has woven a spell around him too just as much as Eris.  

“Whoever’s luckiest,” Nesta shrugs simply, “So there’s no point in trying so hard… We all end up in the exact place we were always supposed to be in.”    

She doesn’t sound happy about that either, and something about the tone makes Cassian want to hold her close. Make her remember that it’s a joy to be here. To be together, even if it is with another male who skin beams with the summer sun.

I’m lucky to have you. 

He hopes she knows.  

“Then you’re lucky,” Tarquin notes, “And blessed. You’re blessed and lucky. Smart and clever.” He laughs as if brushing the seriousness off, “Is that why you’re so good at cards? Azriel was moping last night. I thought that had something to do with you.”  

Nesta lifts a casual shoulder, a soft smile playing on her lips. Cassian thinks even that is a play–some move she knows will help her counter his attack. “Azriel loses because he wants to win and it’s easy to win against someone who’s already shown their cards.”  

“Motivations are everything.”  

“Yes,” Nesta nods frankly, “so why are you here?”  

Cassian wants to know, too.  

Actually, Cassian wants to push him into the Sidra and see if pretty fishman can float, but he’ll take Nesta’s verbal spar in any case. If he runs back to the House with his tail between his legs, Cassian will consider it a win for the both of them. His lovely strategist.

But Tarquin doesn’t run. Cassian doesn’t think Tarquin will ever run from Nesta and that simple fact makes him furious. That there is another male in this world who will see Nesta and not balk, who will know Nesta and not grimace.  

Cassian is not the only male who stays. Not for the power or the beauty or the poise, but because underneath all of that is a female who can conquer as much as she can tame. Whose voice sounds like the sea, whose eyes are crystal clear waters, whose mind rages against the tide.  

Tarquin breathes in ocean air.  

Every morning, he fishes on the coast. Every evening, he sleeps to the humming sea. Who would know Nesta better than someone who dreams of waves?  

So, it doesn’t come as any surprise when Tarquin looks to him, as she asks her question. Why are you here?  

“Because I want to know you.”  

A fool’s choice.  

“I’m not foolish enough to claim you,” He adds, “and I’m not foolish enough to think you’ll ever be claimed, even if you have a mate. No offense, Cassian.”

Offense taken.  

“I’m not even foolish enough to think I can even begin to know who you are or what you’ve been through… But when you looked at me that day in the Summer Court, and asked me to help your family, offered me anything that you could give me alone.”  

What? Cassian looks to Nesta, but she promptly ignores him, staring at Pompous Prince Tarquin.  

“I’d never seen anyone want so badly. I wanted to know what that felt like. Know what stirred so deeply in your heart that you looked at me like you’d give me the entire world for just one yes.”  

Tarquin raises a shoulder and Cassian tries not to swallow so loudly. He thinks he might have to shove a fist down his throat to stop his screaming, “You’re a question I keep mulling over and I’ve yet to figure out what the answer is. I don’t even know if I could know the answer if it stared me in the eyes, but I would like to learn. To feel half of what you feel, to learn how to love so truly.”

~

Cassian replays her answer as he sleeps. He goes over it and over it and over it again. At some point, he wakes her up in the middle of the night, shaking her shoulder.  

“Nesta,” he whispers, “Nesta? What did you mean?”

His mate only groans, her brows furrowing, as she burrows further into blankets. Cassian knows he’s playing in dangerous territory, but he can’t stop thinking about. It’s driving him insane.  

“Nesta, what did you mean?”  

He says it once louder, shaking her again. Nesta only juts out her elbow, hitting him in the rib. Cassian holds in the heavy moan as he clutches his chest, and Nesta settles in her sleep.  

Still, Cassian can’t give up now. “When you told Tarquin you’d think about it, what did you mean? Nesta?”  

Cassian grasps her shoulder, shaking her lightly, “Nesta!”  

“What?” Nesta yells, leaning up so fast, she almost hits her head on his chin. “What do you keep yelling about? I’m trying to sleep!”  

Even furious and half-asleep, she looks beautiful. The strap of her nightgown slips down one shoulder, and he trails the movement as if his own fingers push it down. Nesta crosses her arms, and he swallows down the want. Not an appropriate time, Cassian.  

She raises a brow, “Well?”  

“I wanted to talk,” he says simply.  

Nesta looks to the clock on the wall, glaring at him exasperated. “At two in the morning?”  

“Good a time as any.”  

She looks mad that much is true, and Cassian wishes to appease.  

His mate is tired, so he’ll fluff her pillows, rub her shoulders while she relaxes enough to tell him exactly what she means when she tells Tarquin she’ll think about it. As if his I want to get to know you is an offer she can’t refuse.  

But as he fluffs her pillows, Cassian can only think of Tarquin.  

He would have waited to speak to her, prioritizing Nesta’s health over his wants. Just this morning… or yesterday morning, the High Lord of Summer makes sure to ask Nesta if she’s eaten as she reads her book on the couch–a fact he finds rude to say the least–and when she says no, he offers to make breakfast for her. Oh, so generous of him. Never mind that they have a House who cooks their meals.  

Cassian scoffs as he thinks about it. What High Lord plays chef? And who is he to ask if Nesta’s eaten as if his mate isn’t being taken care of?  

He yanks at the pillow, beats at it, punches it. He can’t help but imagine Tarquin’s face. He can see feathers jutting from the cushion, and still he hits. The cloth lays in the cinders on the bed before he stops.  

Nesta sighs at the mess, grabbing one of the pillows from his side, clasping it to her head.  

“What are you doing?” Cassian asks.  

“Hoping I suffocate enough to pass out.”

Her voice is muffled, and he grasps at the pillow. Her hair is a ruffled mess. It splays out on the pillow in waves. Cassian can’t help but breathe at the sight of her and the sound is a sigh of relief.  

She’s his… Or as much as Nesta can be his.  

She chose him.  

Nesta with her matted hair, the side of her cheek pink from where she pushes up against the pillow, her silver nightgown making her skin glow in the light of the moon, chooses him.  

Shouldn’t that be enough?  

Cassian rubs at his face, feeling all too shameful. “I’m sorry. I just–” He takes in their bed, feathers littering the duvet. Suddenly, he feels like a little kid. What was he doing beating a pillow like that? Waking Nesta in the middle of the night? 

“You’re jealous,” Nesta says.  

Her voice echoes in the room, and Cassian frowns at the words. Of course, he’s jealous. That much is obvious. He’s always jealous.  

Nesta is beautiful and powerful and smiles like she grants the sun its light, and males flock to her like moths. Not just any males either but stupid princes and arrogant High Lords and stupid, arrogant Tarquin!

Nesta only grabs at the pillow in his hands, setting it under her head as she closes her eyes. He waits for her to speak, but he can only hear the ticking of the clock, on and on as time passes.  

Nesta doesn’t say a thing.  

“That’s it? That’s all you have to say. You’re jealous and you go back to sleep.”  

The pretty pink of her lips purse, but she doesn’t even open her eyes as she says, “If you were looking for comfort, you shouldn’t have woken me up at two in the morning.”  

Well… damn.  

Cassian settles back at his side, crossing his arms as he stares at the ceiling. He’s one less pillow down, but that doesn’t bother him much. It’s the thoughts that don’t quiet even for a second. Stupid mating bond.  

That thought though has him looking to Nesta. No, he loves that mating bond. He loves her. And even if Tarquin wants to impede himself like a wall between them, Cassian will still love Nesta Archeron.  

He closes his eyes repeating those words as if they’re a lullaby that will let him drift off to sleep. I love Nesta Archeron. I love Nesta Archeron. I love Nesta Archeron.  

The words don’t comfort him even a little.  

But Nesta sets her head on his chest. She tucks herself in to the crook of his arm and Cassian squeezes gently–he tries not to hold on too tight.  

She must sense his surprise. Whether that be from the bond or because Nesta knows him like that back of her hand, he doesn’t know. But she blinks one eye open, looking at him with bright grey and all his fears are assuaged.

“You should hold me since you woke me up.”

Cassian can only blink, nodding his head as she wraps his arms around her, and he settles in. He can hear her heart beating and he can hear her soft breathing and Cassian can go to sleep to this. He can.  

Cassian will hold her until she tells him let go. Cassian will not let go.  

Still… he can’t help it.  

“I bet Tarquin can’t hold you like this.”  

Cassian only gets mouth full of feathers.

~

Tarquin tells Rhys that he’s going to stay for two weeks. During this time, they’ll talk of treaties, draw up some plan of trade, some easy comings and goings of Night Court and Summer Court residences. Cassian tells Rhys that they don’t need a treaty. Throw him out now, he thinks.  

“Is something going on with you?” Rhys asks, leaning back in his chair, ever the High Lord. Cassian is starting to hate High Lords.  

Cassian crosses his arms, grinding his teeth. He’s in the sitting room in the estate. Amren solves a puzzle as if nothing about this meeting is important at all. Mor talks to Feyre by the dining room, gossiping rather than listening to Rhys moan about Tarquin and peace treaties. Nesta, not that she goes to these meetings, is out doing gods know what with Tarquin who wants to view the city.  

Take me to all your favorite places, he says. Cassian rolls his eyes just thinking about the way Nesta’s light up. Bookstores and restaurants and museums. She knows them all. Nesta goes with him, first. Why does Tarquin care? Is he planning on buying a winter house in Velaris?  

Cassian’s blood runs cold at the thought.  

“He’s jealous,” Azriel says, throwing a scroll at Rhys which he easily catches.  

Mor’s head jerks up at the word, even Feyre smirks with interest.  

“No,” Cassian dismisses, but he’s never been a good liar. His voice pitches high and Rhys eyes him with humor, “I… just think that we don’t need Summer Court resources, when we have an abundance of them already.”  

“You’re also banned,” Amren comments helpfully, “I would say that makes you the most biased towards these dealings.”  

“Your boyfriend is from the Summer Court; wouldn’t that make you the most biased?” Mor asks. Amren simply shrugs.  

“I mean have we considered that. That male banned me and now we’re opening our borders?”  

“Our borders have always been open,” Feyre says, not so helpfully. The look she gives him has him sinking in his seat. “Also, you wrecked the central magistrate.” 

“They’ve rebuilt it,” Cassian argues.  

“You mates are all the same,” Amren groans loudly, “She’s not going to fuck Tarquin.”  

“Shut up Amren!”

“That’s the best you can do? I’m sure Tarquin’s more eloquent.”

“Amren,” Feyre says, giving her that motherly reprimanding look. An expression that Cassian supposes comes with the motherhood package.  

It does the trick.

Amren sneers, but she settles back where she sits on the floor, picking at her puzzle. Cassian has the sudden urge to knock the pieces off the table, just for the comment alone.

“Nesta loves you, Cassian,” Feyre says, her voice light and calming. Too bad it doesn’t calm him, and he doesn’t want to talk about this now even if she goads. “What’s there to be jealous of?”  

Cassian already knows this answer. He knows this answer this morning, the other night, the minute summer enters Velaris spring. It’s not that Nesta loves him. Cassian knows Nesta loves him. It’s that he lets his guard down. He forgets the most crucial information of all–

Nesta is easily lovable.  

Sure, she might give a sneer or two at someone who annoys her well enough or beat the living daylights out of someone who threatens those she loves, but Nesta is an easily lovable dork.

She laughs at stupid things and it’s the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. She’s a goofball! He swears she knows every book in that library. She absorbs information like a sponge, will rant for hours about everything she learns. Her thoughtfulness knows no bounds. They’ll be off at the market and if she sees something that looks like Gwyn or Emerie or himself or whoever, she has to have it. She has to give it to them. They go to get cinnamon buns and she orders enough for the priestesses. She remembers everyone’s birthday. She learns the name of every patron and their families and their language and their holidays. It’s not hard to love Nesta.  

Who would not love Nesta?  

So yes, he has something to be jealous of.  

“You look stressed,” Mor notes, her eyebrows raising.  

Amren nods, “You look like you’re going to fight someone.”  

“Or puke,” Azriel adds.  

“Just don’t fight Tarquin,” Rhys concludes, “I can’t ban you from the court, but I can certainly make sure you’re away in Illyria while he’s here.”  

“You guys are really supportive, you know that?”

“Well at least we’re not trying to steal you’re girl,” Mor teases.  

“Yet.”  

Cassian gives her a glare, but she only laughs a bright sound.  

“I’ve never seen you jealous,” she says.

“I’m not jealous.”  

Azriel raises a pointed finger, “what about that one time you threw that rock at that window?”  

“Or when you broke that male’s nose,” Rhys suggests.  

Amren rolls her eyes, setting down a piece of her puzzle, “How about the last time we all went to a bar.”  

Mor, Azriel, and Rhys look to each other, contemplating the words. Cassian watches as they nod their heads slowly.  

“Oh yeah.”

“You’re right.”  

“You were jealous then, too.”  

“I was not jealous,” Cassian insists.  

Thankfully, Feyre–sweet Feyre offers him relief. She raises her hands, and Cassian thinks he’s glad to have such a loyal sister-in-law. “Guys, he was not jealous.”  

Thank you, Feyre.  

“He was territorial.”  

The others voice their agreement before Cassian has a chance to speak–to defend himself from this defamation of character.

Not that he can defend himself.  

He remembers that day all too well…

It’s the first Nesta goes to a bar with them. The first time she goes to a bar in a while, and she’s nervous. But she looks beautiful. So damn beautiful that he thinks he might suggest staying in. She has on a black dress with these tiny straps and a necklace that makes him want to trace her neck with his tongue until she’s mewling and soft and pliant. But she’s nervous, so he only kisses her forehead.  

We don’t have to drink he says. I won’t drink either, he promises.  

Cassian turns out to be a bold-faced liar.  

He’s drunk by the time the first band plays. He keeps gobbling down the drinks. Nesta gets them for free. Martinis, vodka sodas, gin, and whiskey. All manners of shots. Every alcohol keeps floating her way. The males seem to think they only need to find the right one. The one Nesta prefers and they take it as a challenge. He remembers asking if she even needed their money all those months ago, and she only shrugs a shoulder. Haughty and much, much too beautiful.  

Nesta offers to send them back, but Cassian gulps them down one by one before she can even call over the waitress. I can take it, he says.  

Once again, Cassian is made a liar.  

They have to carry him out of that bar. At some point, he remembers flying over the city as Rhys and Azriel chase him through the streets.  

The only way they get him down is by Nesta calling for him. An easy trick, he thinks. If they asked him, they should have tried that first. Of course, he answers his mate when she calls.  

When he meets her, crawling back with his wings drooping to the concrete, Nesta only opens her arms as if she wants him to hug her. Cassian hugs her. He… climbs on top of her, really.  

But she combs her fingers through his hair and Cassian hunches over to lay his head on her shoulder and the next thing he knows… he’s lying in bed, a glass of water and some headache powder on the side table.  

She’d hit that nerve in his neck.  

Cassian wants to scoff just thinking about it.  

“Where is Nesta anyway?”  

The question has Cassian grinding his teeth, he can hear the noise in his ears. With fucking Tarquin.  

“She’s out,” he says instead.  

“Out where?”  

“Out to museums,” He lists thinking of all the places Nesta enjoys. “Or picnics.” All the places that Nesta will smile at. “Or restaurants.” All places Nesta will bubble up with laughter, that she’ll blush with glee, that she’ll gaze at wistfully with that bastard Tarquin. “Or maybe romantic boat rides. The one in that fucking swan.”  

Cassian doesn’t even know he grabs on to the throw pillow, but the next thing he knows the cushion is torn in half and the stuffing falls out like billowing snow.  

The others look at him strangely, but it’s Feyre who takes a cautious step towards him, taking the pillow from his hands.  

“And when will they be done?”  

Cassian rolls his eyes, looking to the clock. “I meet them in a half an hour. We’re getting lunch,” he mocks in a voice that doesn’t sound anything like the High Lord of Summer.  

Feyre hums in answer, her eyes widening innocently. Cassian stares in suspicion.  

He watches as the others look to each other, too. Azriel to Mor. Mor to Rhys. Rhys to Feyre. Feyre to Amren. And then all of them look back to him.  

It’s Mor who bounces brightly, “I want to go!”  

“I’m going, too,” Rhys announces.  

Feyre crosses her arms, “You can’t go. I’m going! Someone has to watch the baby.”  

“Let Nuala and Cerridwen watch the baby! I’m supporting my brother.”  

“I’m supporting my sister!”  

“Oh, for cauldron’s sake,” Amren groans, “just bring the boy!”  

Cassian frowns as they start packing up around him, yelling at each other for their coats and… baby carriers.  

Amren only pauses to laugh at the look on his face.  

“It could be worse, you know,” She says, her voice something she probably thinks sounds soft and comforting, “Tarquin could have already made some move. What do males say these days? Oh right, I want to get to know you or something equally as vomit inducing.”  

Cassian simply picks up the throw pillow to his left and screams.  

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

BONUS SCENE 1: 

The evening of their first outing, Cassian can’t button his shirt. He should've taken that as his first sign that things would inevitably go wrong. 

“Are the buttons winning?” Nesta asks lightly. Cassian huffs a curse, hiking the shirt over his head. It gets stuck around his neck and he groans out a response.

Fine, he thinks. I give up. 

Nesta laughs at his slumping shoulders. 

“It’s the wings,” He says, muffled through the cloth. His wings drift up and down as if huffing themselves, showing her that they too are thoroughly annoyed. “This shirt isn’t made for Illyrians.” 

That’s a lie, but Nesta only hums. 

“Well... as much as I like you topless and I do like you topless.” Cassian can feel her hands trailing up his ribs and he squirms at the ticklish touch. “I don’t think it would be appropriate for public outings.” 

“You mean you’d be jealous,” He breaths. Nesta pulls the shirt down, unbuttoning and buttoning it again. His mate makes it seem far too easy, and she smirks up at him when the shirt is fully on. Her lips painted in red. 

The fresh air is cool in his lungs without the noose of dress ware, and he winds his arms around her, breathing in her scent. “All those females looking. Males too. What would you do if they propositioned me?” He urges, holding her closer, bringing her hips to his. “Cassian, Cassian, take me in your arms.”

He dips her low as if they’ve finished some waltz, and lifts her high until her leg is around his waist. That’s when he notices the slit in her gown, running all the way up her thigh. 

“They’ll chase me through the streets, you know. I’m a very hot commodity.” 

Nesta doesn’t even laugh. In fact, she merely lifts her eyes, her expression blank in that very Nesta way of hers.  

She fingers the collar of his shirt and Cassian can’t help but follow her hands. He thinks of every place those fingers can touch. “You wouldn’t be so difficult to catch. All it’d take is some buttons.” 

Cassian roars with laughter and Nesta smiles at that. A small turn of her lips. 

She turns back to the vanity, though he can’t say she’s not already perfect. He’s about to say so too, but that’s when he notices the dress. 

It’s hugs her every curve... the way Cassian only wishes to hug her. The black brings out the gold in her hair, in her sun-kissed skin. There’s a slit, Cassian knows, and tiny, tiny straps. 

Cassian moves towards her without a second thought. How anyone can think when they look at Nesta Archeron, he doesn’t know. He grasps her arms, dipping his head low. He places a reverent kiss on her shoulder and Nesta looks at him through the mirror, blinking up at him with those big, magnificent eyes. 

They’ve never fucked in front of mirror before.  

Cassian makes a note. 

“You know, we can always skip this... thing. Who would even notice if we're gone?” 

“Considering it’s for us, I’d say plenty.” 

She says the words with enough disdain that Cassian frowns at the tone. She  looks away as he catches her eyes.

“Do you not want to go?” He asks, dropping his hands. 

“I want to get this night over with,” she says, with a certain bite that has him backtracking. He runs over the day and all things she can be mad at him for, but he finds nothing, so he doesn’t understand.  

The night is for them. 

To celebrate her more than anyone. There’s been so many celebrations for her these past months as if they’re making up for lost time. Cassian doesn’t mind. Nesta should be celebrated. And Nesta doesn’t seem to mind, though she’s rather quiet during those outings. 

That’s not unusual. 

He used to think Azriel was the most introverted of them all. But Nesta beats him by miles. 

“Why--”

“I just don’t like that we always have these. Why can’t everyone just leave us alone?” 

Cassian stares at her reddening skin. The way her eyes dart back and forth, trying not to look to him. His frown deepens at the way she hides. 

He thought they were past this. 

Cassian is the first person to admit that he doesn’t know Nesta. Not in the way he wants to and Nesta seldom tells him much. But he at least knows her well enough to know that when she gets upset, it’s rarely what she says it is.

So Cassian takes inventory. 

They’re going to a get-together. They’ve done that before. They’re wearing formal clothes. They’ve done that before. They’re meeting the same people. Yes, that’s correct. The only thing that’s different is... the location? 

“You have a problem with the restaurant,” he guesses. 

Nesta merely lies her chin on her palm. 

“It’s new... they have good food... so I hear. It’s got great music, which you like. It’s got a bar,” Cassian’s gaze whips to her, “Is it the bar?” 

Nesta rolls her eyes, but he can see the way her cheeks flush a bright pink. The color softens something inside of him, makes him want to hug her and hold her and get rid of every bad thought in her head. 

The bar. Of course. He sees the way she cringes at alcohol, the way she shifts in her seat when a dinner turns into an after party. She doesn’t even like most of their holidays for that reason, because they all get drunk and she sits in the corner not knowing what to do. Nesta hates being embarrassed.

She can drink if she wants, he tells her, it’s her choice. They won’t judge her for it, he affirms, but... Cassian can’t guarantee that and Nesta knows that’s a lie. Nesta doesn’t even touch liquor. 

Cassian feels his chest start to sink and he must show it on his face, because she scoffs. 

It’s bad enough she doesn’t want to go to the city most days. She’s told him it’s because she’s scared to face who she was, afraid that she’ll be back there soon enough. Cassian can’t reassure her well enough. We can face it together, he says. We can face it all. But it’s been baby steps and these outings are the only times she pushes her limits. 

Cassian shifts her around, laying his hands on her cheeks, rubbing at the heated skin. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want.” 

“I don’t want to be a coward.” 

Cassian shakes his head, “you’re not going to be one if you go and you’re not going to be one if you stay.” 

Nesta sighs, and Cassian kisses her forehead because he doesn’t know what else to do. He doesn’t know how to instill in Nesta that she’s the strongest, bravest person he knows. How does he convince her of a truth that’s so obvious?  

She isn’t going to change her mind that much he knows, but damn him if he let’s her wallow alone.  

“I won’t drink,” He offers, “We can play cards, dance a little... I promise I’ll try not to step on your toes again.” 

“I want you to enjoy yourself,” She says, her lips pouting in that way that makes him want to kiss her nose and her cheek and every place that he can touch. “To have fun.” 

“You are fun and I enjoy myself plenty with you.” 

Little does Cassian know that the enjoyment of the night is him knocking back barrels of drinks, stripping to his underwear, and running head first through the streets. 

To be continued... 

~

LOL. This fic is insane. Because not only do you get snippets before you get the final chapter, you get snippets in the final chapters. Snip-ception. 

~

Tagged:  @my-fan-side, @sophilightwood, @nestaarcher0n, @duskandstarlight, @soitsgorgeous, @ekaterinakostrova @swankii-art-teacher, @lordof-bloodshed, @arinbelle, @thewhelk, @daisy-in-danger, @highqueenevankhell, @lovelynesta, @sirendeepity, @champanheandluxxury, @ladynestaarcheron, @moodymelanist, @teagoddess99, @spoilersteph, @angelicvoice19, @bo0kmaster69, @drielecarla, @generalnesta

I think that’s it. Also know that if you asked to be tagged on snippets, I am going to tag you MANY TIME throughout the day... so be cautious about that. 

[bloody-bee-tea]

Sweat

Jiang Cheng knows that it’s a risky move to show up to this office party with Nie Mingjue in tow, but then again it’s not like he cares. Much.

He had tried to introduce Nie Mingjue to his parents countless times, but they always shot him down, citing that they don’t have time for things like this. So Jiang Cheng never got to introduce them.

But the invitation to the party had said he could bring a plus one. It didn’t specify any further than this and Jiang Cheng had waved the invitation at Nie Mingjue, who of course hadn’t gotten one of his own.

Jiang Fengmian wanted to cut a deal with Jin Corp. and everyone knew that Jin Guangshan didn’t make deals when the Nies were involved. So Nie Security hadn’t gotten an invitation at all.

Jiang Cheng is aware that his father will be furious with him for bringing Nie Mingjue but he will be going in his capacity as Jiang Cheng’s boyfriend. It won’t be work related. And it isn’t either of their fault if Jiang Fengmian wants to make a deal with the slimiest bastard in their business.

Jiang Cheng is going to give his dad a metaphorical fuck you by bringing Nie Mingjue.

At least that had been the theory. Now that they are actually at the party, Jiang Cheng is getting pretty damn nervous again, sweat clinging to his temples and back.

“It’ll be alright,” Nie Mingjue whispers and pulls him close with a hand on his hip. “I’m right here.”

Jiang Cheng doesn’t say that that is part of the problem and instead leans into the contact. He has to admit that it does feel pretty nice to not be alone for once.

“Until someone steals you away and then where will I be?” Jiang Cheng grumbles, mostly just to be contrary, because he does feel better this close to Nie Mingjue.

“I hope you’ll be on your way to save me,” Nie Mingjue gives back and brushes a kiss over Jiang Cheng’s temple. “Since work is not what I’m here for. Look, there’s Wei Wuxian,” he then tries to distract Jiang Cheng and he has to admit that it works reasonably well.

Wei Wuxian drags Lan Wangji over to them as well and Jiang Cheng is sure that Lan Xichen is mingling somewhere, too, so there are at least four friendly faces around. Five, if you count Jin Zixuan and with how hard he’s trying lately with Jiang Yanli, Jiang Cheng is inclined to count him.

Jiang Cheng tries to follow along with Wei Wuxian’s excited chatter about his newest project, but his nerves are getting the better of him once he catches sight of Jiang Fengmian and so most what Wei Wuxian says flies right over Jiang Cheng’s head.

“Uh-oh, here he comes,” Nie Mingjue mutters and steps that little bit closer to Jiang Cheng, making sure that he knows he’s there and he’s supporting him.

Wei Wuxian throws a wide-eyed look over his shoulder before he turns the same wide eyes on Jiang Cheng and Jiang Cheng sighs.

“Go,” he tells him, secretly a little bit relieved that Wei Wuxian wants to remove himself from this situation and Wei Wuxian is gone faster than Jiang Cheng can blink.

Speaking to Jiang Fengmian is never pleasant, but it’s always worse when Wei Wuxian is present. It seem like the sheer existence of Wei Wuxian makes Jiang Fengmian forget that Jiang Cheng even exists and no matter how much time passes or how many therapy sessions Jiang Cheng goes to, it never stops hurting.

Nie Mingjue puts a steadying hand to the small of Jiang Cheng’s back and presses another kiss to his temple where anyone can see and Jiang Cheng loves him for how little Nie Mingjue minds all that family drama that comes with dating him.

It had been one of his big worries when they started dating, but Nie Mingjue seemingly never cared beyond hating how it always hurt Jiang Cheng and that more than anything helped Jiang Cheng to seek out help and to realize that this isn’t normal.

It isn’t normal how he tenses more and more the closer his father gets. It isn’t normal how his heart starts to beat faster when Jiang Fengmian’s eyes fall on him. And it’s certainly not normal how Jiang Cheng starts to shake when clear displeasure clouds over Jiang Fengmian’s face.

“What is the meaning of this?” he asks once he reached them and he’s not even looking at Jiang Cheng anymore.

All of Jiang Fengmian’s attention is on Nie Mingjue.

“What a surprise to see here, Mingjue,” he says and Nie Mingjue tenses with the address.

Jiang Cheng knows that Nie Mingjue hates how overly familiar Jiang Fengmian and Jin Guangshan get whenever they talk to him and so he leans just a little bit more back into Nie Mingjue’s hand.

“Fengmian,” Nie Mingjue gives back, his voice pleasant, though his jaw is clenched. “I’m here with Wanyin.”

“Wanyin,” Jiang Fengmian repeats and turns to look at Jiang Cheng as if this was the first time he noticed him next to Nie Mingjue. “You should be mingling with the Jins.”

“I should be showing my boyfriend around,” Jiang Cheng gives back, hating how there’s the tiniest shake to his voice.

“Your boyfriend,” Jiang Fengmian repeats and looks back at Nie Mingjue. “You’re colluding with the Nies?”

“I am dating a Nie,” Jiang Cheng says, forcing himself to remain calm and collected. “Which you would know if you had ever taken the time to meet my boyfriend.”

“Ah, you know how it is,” Jiang Fengmian says and Jiang Cheng hates that tone of voice, especially when it’s aimed at him. “I am a busy man and who knows how long this fling of yours will last. There’s no need to introduce us when this is bound to end sooner rather than later. I mean, Mingjue is a busy man himself. You shouldn’t hog his attention.”

It’s a reprimand that Jiang Cheng has heard several times before, in different contexts, but it still cuts him deeply. Deeply enough that he can’t even find his voice and it only worsens his mood, because he should be able to defend his boyfriend and their relationship from his own father.

“Enough about this now,” Jiang Fengmian decides as if Jiang Cheng had actually managed to say anything. “Mingjue, about that contract—” Jiang Fengmian says, his attention completely on Nie Mingjue already, and Jiang Cheng has to bite back some tears.

“I am not here for work,” Nie Mingjue bites out and takes Jiang Cheng’s hand in his. “I am here as a plus one to my boyfriend. If you really do want to talk about the contract, you should make an appointment with my secretary.”

Jiang Fengmian blinks, clearly surprised by Nie Mingjue’s firm rebuke and Nie Mingjue takes that opportunity to drag Jiang Cheng away from him.

“I know he’s your dad, but I seriously hate him,” Nie Mingjue mutters once they are out of earshot and Jiang Cheng laughs wetly.

He hates his dad sometimes, too, but he can’t bring himself to say that.

“I’m glad you’re here with me,” Jiang Cheng says, slinging his arms around Nie Mingjue’s middle and just breathing for a few moments.

“Even though I just made it more difficult for you?” Nie Mingjue wants to know, but he squeezes Jiang Cheng back.

“He would have found something to criticise me over anyway,” Jiang Cheng mutters. “It’s easier to endure when you’re there.”

“I’m not leaving you out of my sight tonight,” Nie Mingjue promises him and Jiang Cheng is just about to breathe in relief when the severe clicking of heels announces the arrival of Yu Ziyuan.

“Oh, fuck,” Jiang Cheng whispers and moves away from Nie Mingjue only to come face to face with his clearly disapproving mother.

“Is this how we make business deals now? Whoring yourself out?” she asks, clearly not caring at all who hears her and Jiang Cheng is quick to shake his head.

“Mother, this is my boyfriend, Nie Mingjue. We’ve been dating for a while,” he rushes out, hopes to salvage this situation somehow and he has to admit that he wasn’t prepared for the surprised look on her face.

“Boyfriend,” she repeats. “The boyfriend you have been trying to introduce to us several times?”

Ah, so at least she noticed his attempts.

“Yes,” Jiang Cheng meekly gives back and Nie Mingjue holds his hand out.

“Nie Mingjue, a pleasure to make your acquaintance, finally,” he says with a small smile and Yu Ziyuan only hesitates a second before she takes his hand.

“I wasn’t aware my son was dating you,” she says and Jiang Cheng flinches.

He had told her, several times actually, but of course she didn’t listen to him. She listens more to him than Jiang Fengmian, but it is still not a lot.

“I am,” Jiang Cheng says, trying to sound surer than he feels, and he can’t read the glint in his mother’s eyes at all.

There is a very long silence before Yu Ziyuan speaks again.

“If you hurt him, I will ruin you,” she says and then turns around to leave in the same manner in which she arrived.

“Was she talking to me or to you?” Jiang Cheng asks, once his mother vanishes from his sight and Nie Mingjue sighs.

“I think she actually meant me,” he gives back and then pulls Jiang Cheng into a kiss. “That actually went better than expected,” he mumbles against Jiang Cheng’s lips and Jiang Cheng has to agree.

He has anticipated his father’s disinterest in his boyfriend, so even while that had still hurt, it wasn’t unexpected. But his mother is always a little bit of a wild card and Jiang Cheng never knows what to expect with her.

“Come on, after this I need something to drink,” Nie Mingjue says once they part and Jiang Cheng couldn’t agree more.

They mingle for a bit afterwards, speaking to Lan Qiren and Lan Xichen, and even Jin Zixuan for a while before they retreat back into a relatively quiet corner.

“This wasn’t so bad so far,” Nie Mingjue says with a sigh and leans against the wall. “Being your arm candy certainly has its perks.”

“Like what?” Jiang Cheng snorts but he has to admit that having Nie Mingjue here did wonders to relax him.

“Like being able to simply walk away if someone starts to talk business to me,” Nie Mingjue gives back and threads their fingers together. “And I get to admire you all evening, so that’s a definite plus.”

“Shut up,” Jiang Cheng hisses, but he can already feel how he turns red.

“Never,” Nie Mingjue whispers and kisses Jiang Cheng’s burning cheek.

“You’re an idiot,” Jiang Cheng tells him, aiming for stern but of course he softens immediately when Nie Mingjue looks expectantly at him. “And I love you.”

“I love you, too,” is the immediate response he gets and Jiang Cheng didn’t know how nice it was to never having to wonder or wait for those words.

Nie Mingjue always makes very sure that Jiang Cheng knows just how much he’s loved.

“What the fuck is your father’s problem?” Nie Mingjue mutters suddenly, breaking Jiang Cheng out of his pleasant thoughts and he leans around Nie Mingjue to see better.

“Fuck, he had something to drink,” Jiang Cheng whispers under his breath, because Jiang Fengmian is never a pleasant person to be around—at least not if you are name Jiang Cheng—but it only ever gets worse when he had something to drink.

“I’ve got this,” Nie Mingjue decides and hands Jiang Cheng his empty glass. “Get me some more, would you?”

Jiang Cheng works his jaw a few times, but when Nie Mingjue nudges him into the opposite direction of his father he sighs. “Fine.”

Nie Mingjue gives him a winning smile before he turns around to meet Jiang Fengmian halfway and Jiang Cheng can’t help it. He knows that no matter what’s going to happen it will hurt him, but he simply has to know.

He doesn’t leave to get them new drinks.

“Mingjue, what a nice surprise,” Jiang Fengmian says, just a tad too loudly and Jiang Cheng winces. “What brings you here?”

“We already talked today,” Nie Mingjue reminds him, his hands clenching at his side.

“Oh, did we? Remind me again, then,” Jiang Fengmian says, his voice now a little bit more appropriate and he leans into Nie Mingjue’s space. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m here with your son. You know, because we’re dating?” Nie Mingjue tells him and Jiang Cheng knows what’s going to happen a split second before his father opens his mouth.

It feels like someone reached inside his chest and tore his heart out.

“Wei Wuxian? I thought he is with that Lan boy?” Jiang Fengmian says and Jiang Cheng sees how Nie Mingjue freezes.

Jiang Cheng has trouble breathing himself, but he keeps his eyes fixed on Nie Mingjue, because it’s the only safe place to look at right now.

“You piece of shit,” Nie Mingjue mutters, and before Jiang Cheng or anyone else can react, he moves.

Between one blink an the next Jiang Fengmian is on the ground, clearly knocked out cold, and Nie Mingjue is shaking out his hand as he turns around and looks for Jiang Cheng.

“Fuck, you heard,” are the first words out of Nie Mingjue’s mouth, before he rushes up to Jiang Cheng to crush him to his chest.

“You punched him,” Jiang Cheng mutters, blinking several times, because it doesn’t make sense.

His father is in on the ground and people are staring at them, but it doesn’t make sense.

“Of course I did!”

“You just punched him,” Jiang Cheng repeats and it’s only the arrival of his mother that prevents him from breaking down into hysterical laughter.

“What is going on here? Wanyin, an explanation!”

“Your husband forgot who his actual son is,” Nie Mingjue hisses at her, not letting go of Jiang Cheng and clearly not going to apologize for his actions.

“Ma’am, do you want us to call the police?” a security guard suddenly asks and Jiang Cheng tenses in Nie Mingjue’s arms.

He will not allow Nie Mingjue to get punished for this.

Jiang Cheng is about to tell his mother that when she waves them away.

“That won’t be necessary,” she says. “I think it was deserved,” she then adds, much more quietly, before she turns to the room at large. “It seems like my dear husband had a little bit too much to drink and he slipped in a rather unfortunate way,” she calls out. “Please don’t be worried and continue to enjoy the party.”

Jiang Cheng stares at her, his mouth open and it’s only when she turns back around to him and Nie Mingjue that he gets a little bit of control back.

“I think you should leave now,” she says, and Jiang Cheng isn’t sure she ever heard her sound so soft. “Well done,” she adds and pats Nie Mingjue’s arm before she goes to deal with the situation at large.

“What the hell just happened,” Jiang Cheng mutters, but he allows Nie Mingjue to pull him away from his father and from this party.

It’s only when the cold night air hits him that he starts to realize what just happened.

“You punched my father because he was an asshole to me,” Jiang Cheng whispers and Nie Mingjue grimaces.

“Well. I would do it again,” he declares as if Jiang Cheng was about to tell him to not do that again. “He deserved it.”

“He did,” Jiang Cheng agrees and then steps close to Nie Mingjue. “You punched my father for me,” he repeats and Nie Mingjue frowns.

“I can’t tell if you’re angry right now,” Nie Mingjue admits, but he puts his hands on Jiang Cheng’s hips.

“I am in absolute awe of you and I love you so much,” Jiang Cheng tells him and leans in for a biting kiss. “And I think you should take me home now.”

“Oh, so that’s how it is? Me punching your father is doing it for you?” Nie Mingjue teases him, but he starts dragging him towards their car.

“Hell, yes,” Jiang Cheng breathes out, because no one has taken such a stance for him.

“Good to know,” Nie Mingjue says. “But I’d still rather not make it a habit.”

“I think the memory will serve me well, too,” Jiang Cheng says and before Nie Mingjue can get into the car, Jiang Cheng crowds him against the side of it, tucking his face into his neck. “Seriously, thank you.”

“My heart, I love you and no one gets to behave like that when it comes to you,” Nie Mingjue says and puts his arms around Jiang Cheng. “No thanks needed.”

“Oh, I’m gonna thank you,” Jiang Cheng says with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrow and Nie Mingjue barks out a laugh.

“Alright,” he says and then they scramble into the car.

It’s a quiet ride home, despite everything, but Jiang Cheng keeps a hold of Nie Mingjue’s hand and he has to admit that he has never felt so loved before.

And he will make sure Nie Mingjue knows how much he appreciates his actions.

Link to my ko-fi on the sidebar!

[genshin-impact-writings]

hi there! may i request small frappé with pumpkin spice and whipped cream? childe x reader ty! this is my first time requesting so i hope i didnt do this wrong!!

Heya, dear anon! Thank you so much for your request, it was perfect and i had a lot of fun writing this. So, here's your drink: A small frappé with pumpkin spice and whipped cream on top. Hope you enjoy! <3 (Reblogs are very much appreciated.)

Prompts: fluff, fake dating, “You’re not wearing that, are you?” + “I don’t think I can do this anymore.” (400 followers event: JJ's coffee shop)

Be mine – Tartaglia x gn!reader (fake dating!AU, fluff)

“You’re not wearing that, are you?”

With furrowed brows, you looked at Tartaglia. He was standing behind you, watching you as you turned in front of the mirror to get a better look at your outfit. “Why?” you asked, a hint of confusion echoing in your voice. “Is there something wrong? Is it too much?”

“No,” he replied, and a smile flashed over his face as he stepped closer and wrapped his arms around your waist from behind. Resting his chin on your shoulder, he added, “It makes you look even prettier than you already are, to be honest. Everyone’s going to stare at you.” He nuzzled your cheek. “And I’m not sure if I like that thought.”

You felt your face growing hot at his words and tried to wriggle out of his hug. “Stop that,” you said with a sheepish grin. “No one’s here, there’s no need to act like we’re a couple.”

Tartaglia hummed in response and took a step back after releasing you from his hug, although he couldn’t deny that your words hurt him more than he liked to admit. He knew that you were right – the two of you weren’t really dating, after all. It was just a show you put on to stop your friends from constantly pestering you to finally find yourself a boyfriend. When you had asked him to pretend to be in a relationship with you for a while, Tartaglia hadn’t hesitated to help you. Up to this day, he hadn’t regretted it – well, a bit, maybe.

At first, it had been nothing more than a game and a secret the two of you shared – something that never failed to make you laugh when your friends weren’t around. But as the weeks passed, things had… changed. At least for him.

He had no idea how you felt about the whole situation, though. If you still thought about him as a friend or if his constant flirting did have some kind of effect on you… if you maybe had developed real, genuine feelings for him too. It was foolish, he knew that, but he couldn’t help but hold on to that thought whenever he saw you.

You watched him in the mirror, the way he stared into the distance absent-mindedly, his pretty blue eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite put your finger on. He often had that look on his face when he thought you weren’t noticing it but whenever you brought the topic up, he always told you that you were imagining things before he quickly changed the subject.

That didn’t stop you from asking, though. You turned around to face him, your left arm slightly outstretched, almost as if your body couldn’t decide if you wanted to reach out for him or not. “Hey,” you said, your voice a lot softer than you initially intended. “What’s wrong?”

It was fascinating to see how his facial expression changed almost immediately, how he put on a smile that could have fooled anyone but you. “I was just thinking that you’re right,” he replied and shrugged. “About us, I mean. We’re not a couple when your friends aren’t around, and I’m sorry if my actions made you feel uncomfortable.”

You let out a surprised laugh. “What made you think I was uncomfortable? I just – I don’t know, I guess I wanted to say that there’s no need to pretend anything when we’re alone. It’s not necessary and I don’t want to bother you. Um…” You shook your head, annoyed by your own stammering. “You’re not making me uncomfortable. That’s what I was trying to say.”

You watched as his smile slowly transformed into a more honest one, and suddenly, there was this warm feeling welling up inside you again. It had happened a few times already, mostly when he looked at you like you were the most precious thing he had ever seen or when he hugged you like he had done earlier but you had never bothered yourself with thinking about it. After all, he only acted like that because you had an agreement with each other, not because he actually cared about you… at least not in that way.

And it was fine, although you couldn’t deny that a part of you had always wondered what it would be like to be in a real relationship with him. He could be reckless and even kind of belligerent sometimes, yes, but when he was with you, he seemed to be a completely different man – caring and considerate, always trying his best to make you smile when you were upset or sad. He was your best friend, the one you could always rely on, no matter what happened.

And sometimes, just like in this moment, he was the one who made your heart skip a beat without even knowing it.

“We should go,” you said, shaking your head once again to get rid of the confusing thoughts that had come to your mind. “The others are probably already waiting for us.”

*

On your way back home, you couldn’t stop thinking about something your best friend had said to you. Sometimes, you couldn’t help but wonder if they secretly knew that your relationship with Tartaglia wasn’t real but since you didn’t want to risk anything, you had decided to let sleeping dogs lie a while ago. Maybe they didn’t know it, anyway but something about the way they looked at you when they told you how happy you could be to have someone like him in your life, had suggested that they were well aware of your fake dating. “If you weren’t so cute together, I would be so jealous, really,” they had added with a grin, darting a glance at Tartaglia who had been joking around with one of your other friends at this point. “He’s awesome, (Y/N). Don’t mess this up, okay?”

The words were still echoing in your mind. How could you mess it up if everything wasn’t even real? Of course you knew what they were trying to say but at some point, you would have no other choice than messing everything up because you either had to tell your friends toe truth or act like you and Tartaglia had broken up. You couldn’t force him to play along forever, after all.

Sooner or later, he would find someone and fall in love for real, and then you would have to let him go, no matter how awful it felt to imagine him being with someone else. The thought hurt – and at the same time, it made you absolutely furious.

You stopped in your tracks, confused by the sudden anger that welled up inside of you when you thought about Tartaglia’s hypothetical future partner. Just because he would start to date someone, you definitely weren’t going to lose him; he would still be your friend. The only thing that would change was the fact that he would no longer act like he was head over heels in love with you.

And that was the moment it finally hit you.

The problem wasn’t that you were afraid of losing your friend. The problem was that you didn’t want him to fall in love with someone else – you wanted him to love you, actually love you, not just pretending like he had done for the past couple of weeks.

It was absolutely crazy, you knew that. He had agreed to fool your friends with you for a while because he thought it sounded like fun but actually developing feelings for each other hadn’t been a part of the deal. It had been completely out of the question, even.

Heck, why did everything have to become so complicated all of a sudden? Why did you have to fall for him? Everything he did, every hug, every kiss… all of that was part of your charade. He didn’t do it because he had romantic feelings for you.

Right?

You couldn’t help but remember the scene from earlier when he had hugged you in front of the mirror, implying that he’d be jealous if someone else would start to admire you. There had been no one around to see; he didn’t have to talk to you like that – and still, he had done it. And he had hugged you in a way that still made your heart beat faster.

Damn it. You needed to talk to him.

You needed to talk to him right now.

You turned around and rushed back to the restaurant where you had parted ways maybe fifteen minutes ago. He wasn’t there anymore but you knew that he sometimes went for a walk near the docks because he liked to listen to the sound of the waves, so you decided to look for him there.

It wasn’t too hard to find him – and as he spotted you approaching him through the crowd, a soft smile flashed over his face. “Did you miss me already?” he asked in a teasing tone that usually would have caused you to roll your eyes. But right now, it just made you feel more insecure.

“I need to talk to you,” you said. Admittedly, it wasn’t the smoothest conversation starter but you were way too nervous to bother yourself with being particularly eloquent in that moment. “About us.”

He raised his eyebrows. “About us?”

“About the whole situation,” you explained. “The relationship thing we have going on. I – I don’t think I can do this anymore. It just… it just feels wrong to pretend like we are dating when we’re not. I don’t know why I came up with that idea in the first place, it’s so stupid and I’m sorry for dragging you into this and-“

“Whoa, slow down, (Y/N),” Tartaglia interrupted you and furrowed his brows. “What are you talking about? I told you many times that I don’t mind helping you. I know your friends, I realize that they can be quite annoying when it comes to… well, your love life. You’re not taking advantage of me if that’s what you’re concerned about.”

You buried your face in your hands for a few seconds and let out a frustrated groan. “That’s not the reason I want to end this, Tartaglia,” you said. “I want to end it because it just feels wrong. We don’t love each other – we shouldn’t pretend that we do. It’s… it’s just not right.”

“Who says I don’t love you?”

You had expected every answer from him but not something like this. With wide eyes, you stared at him, searching his face for a sign that he was joking, that he was trying to fluster you like he already did a million times but his expression was unusually serious. “What?”

“Who says I don’t love you?” he repeated patiently. “You said it’s not right to pretend that we love each other. But the truth is that I’m not pretending anymore. So, it’s not wrong, is it?”

You couldn’t reply. Your thoughts were racing as your brain tried to comprehend what he had just told you but you felt like you weren’t able to think straight at all. Not when all you could think about was that he loved you.

Tartaglia stepped closer, gently cupping your face with his hands. “I love you,” he said, the tone of his voice so earnest that it send a shiver down your spine. “And I think that you may love me too, so if that’s the case could you please say something? Or – I don’t know, blink twice, maybe?”

“Shut up,” you said, finally snapping out of your state of shock. “Shut up and kiss me.”

Taglist: @blissmal, @aimicoos

[ac3id]

Puppy Girl | 18+

pairings: dabi [ touya todoroki ] x female! reader. 

summary: dabi takes his puppy whore for a walk. 

warnings: pet play, public, humiliation, dubcon, sex toys. 

wordcount: 1.8k |

navigation

It was starting to become a recurring event. He had promised you it would be a one-time thing but lately, he was pulling you to the park naked with him every other week.

 It was a simple bargain the first time. You listen to him and indulge in his deranged, lewd fantasies and he lets you live without a dog collar attached to your neck for a week. 

You were hesitant but the thought of being able to live as a decent human being with at least a small amount of respect even if it was just for a week; was tempting. 

Soon it became a currency. Months after months you’d spend your one day with him, totally humiliated and degraded just for the rest of the week to go by a little easy, and every time he would push your limits even further.

The very first time he took you outside with a leash attached to the collar around your neck was appalling. You were terrified, there was no speck of arousal within you. Dabi had guaranteed you’d find it hot, you just didn’t know before because you had never tried it. But honestly, showcasing your sexual adventures to the world was surely not your kink. It was his kink though, and you didn’t have a choice.

You and Dabi didn’t have the most organic relationship, if it weren’t for the fact that he had brought you to his home with a blindfold and zip lockers around your wrists, you could have at least tried to talk to him about this. You were just his pet. His cute, little, stupid puppy, too dumb to think for herself. No wonder you got caught by him. 

After the Hero-dominated society fell and Shigaraki took over, Dabi was quick to find you and take you away as his little captive. It made many headlines; Previously a brave Hero, now a slave to the evil Dabi.

You never read them though, he wouldn’t allow you any communication with the outside world. It was just the two of you. 

“Da-Touya please, I don’t want to go out like this,” he insisted you’d call him Touya, it was a beautiful name- his real name. It still shocked you, Dabi was the first son of Endeavour. The universe sure had its ways. 

“What’s wrong doll? You look pretty,” his slender fingers caressed your face. He was admiring your form; naked beside the pretty bondage belts wrapping your body, the nipple clamps pinching your hardened buds, the vibrator pushed deep within your cunt, vibrating at such a painfully dull pace, and the pretty tail butt plug buried deep in your asshole.

 With a pair of dog ears fitted over your head along with black thigh-highs decorating your legs, you looked perfect to him; ready to fuck, he dolled up his fucktoy beautifully.

“I don’t want to walk out like this,” you whined. He told you he was going to take his dog out of a walk earlier that day, stupid for you to expect it would be an actual dog.

“You don’t get to decide that, puppy,” he whispers, his nose touching yours his hands pet your head as you are an actual dog.

 “Just be good for me, like a good girl,” his voice drops, his tone gets deeper and serious. “Or do you want to get punished? I’ll send you to the timeout room,”

You freeze at the mention, you still remember the day as clear as yesterday. You were acting up, getting moody, and crying. Pushing him away and screaming at him, Dabi had the patience for a while, and then, later as punishment he let a nomu twice your size fuck you, destroy you. It was still fresh in your memories.

 “No, please-”

“Good girl.” he praises, kissing your lips lightly before tugging on your leash. He looks back at you one last time, watching your feet wobble as you try to walk with both your holes tightly stuffed. It was cute, he liked watching you suffer.

 His eyes roamed your figure, stopping at your thighs. He could never understand why but those stockings which you wore got him going.

 Shigaraki had suggested he should put those on you, he was reluctant at first knowing that his boss is far worse than him but in the end, he took the advice. And, God, he does not regret it. 

“C’mon cutie, walk faster.” he tugged on your leash again and you almost fell over, the vibe hitting a deep spot within you. You cry, drool escaping past your lips. “At this rate, we’ll reach the park after sunrise. Do you want everyone to see you like this?” 

It was currently 3 A.M. Too early or late for anyone to be outside their houses, it was the perfect time for Dabi to his whore out for a walk.

 “We are going to be walking?” you ask in shock, you were sure you wouldn’t be able to make till there without blacking out. “Yes, we are puppy.” he hummed and with a smirk, he pulled on your leash again. 

The walk to the park wasn’t long, barely five minutes but since you were dressed like a slut- no. Not even a whore would let a man do this to her, even a whore would have more dignity than you. You stumbled, the vibrations turning extreme as Dabi messed with the controller. 

“Keep walking,” he commanded.

 “If you fall, I'm not letting you up. You’ll have to walk on all fours like the bitch you are,” Rude remarks from Dabi were nothing uncommon, he lived to degrade you but what haunted you was the way he said them.

 He did not hide how he felt, his face displaying his exact expression. He was always smirking or smiling while talking down to you, he thought it was funny. The ever-persistent smirk still lasted on his face as he watched you try your best not to fall with the vibe fucking your cunt unforgivingly. 

You follow behind him, your thighs pressed together trying to ride out the overwhelming pleasure. Dabi hums the tune of some familiar song that you can’t figure out in your current state. 

Your clench around the butt plug, the stretch still burning in your rear. Moans and whimpers fill the silent night as you lose yourself, the air is warm. It’s summer still, everything around you is silent and dark.

“You might want to keep your voice down.” Dabi starts, his eyes scan a bench. He’s thinking of fucking you on it. Despite the countless times both of you have gone out like this, Dabi has asked for nothing more than a blowjob. But today, he is feeling brave, and besides, your moaning, whimpering, and those cuteass ears and tail have got him going. 

“What if someone sees you here like this, do you want everyone to know how much of a slut you are? Walking around naked at a park like this, do you want them to know you have no shame?” 

Instead of answering you cry. You cry while cumming, the overwhelming pressure which kept building in your abdomen finally bursting. Dabi looks back at you, disappointment was written all over his face. He watches your juices drip down your thighs as you lewdly moan. He clicks his tongue,

“Didn’t I tell you something about cumming without my permission?” He did, a long time ago. You don’t even remember, “‘m sorry,” you cry in a small voice. He glares at you, his blue eyes dancing with furious flames. 

You feel small under his stare, “That’s no good.” He growls 

In a swift motion, he pulls your leash, dragging you next to him. He pushes you on the bench, your naked body hits the slightly cooler seat making you shiver. Dabi feels his jeans tighten when he watches you fall on the bench, displaying your pretty ass to him. Your cute, little tail sticks out between your ass making him groan. 

You turn your head around to Dabi and see him staring at your ass. Taking this as your chance you quickly apologize. 

“I’m so sorry, Touya. I didn- Ah” you get cut off with a slap to your ass. “Dogs don’t talk. Bark for me,” 

Your eyes widened in shock and fear, was he serious? By the look of his face, you could tell he was joking, but there was no way you were actually going to bark for him. Another slap falls behind you shutting you up. 

“Bark.” His voice dark, filled with authority and dominance does make you feel like his little. A tingle of pleasure travels down your spine and in a weak, timid voice you start barking for him. Your cries are quiet and soft, you don’t want to be heard by anyone and the last shreds of your dignity don’t let you raise your voice any higher. 

“What’s that? Are you a puppy? Quit barking like a girl,” Dabi scoffs at his own joke. 

You feel the buzz come back, the vibration which had paused singing back to life. You squirm on the desk, the position you stayed propped against the wooden seat uncomfortable. 

Dabi picks you up and places you on his lap, his lips pressing against your neck leaving butterfly kisses and his hands wrapped around your waist he makes you sit through your second orgasm. 

“These look needy,” his finger inches towards your hardened nipples clamped between the metal. They stand stiff and ready to be played with. He rubs over the buds causing you to moan out loud. Dabi chuckles. 

“Keep barking, baby. You’re a greedy, little puppy with an even greedier, little cunt.” He chuckles in your ear before lightly biting your earlobe. 

You feel yourself reaching closer, the vibe resting tightly clenched between your velvety walls brings you towards your edge. 

“You close, baby?” he pets over your head while his hand travels down your navel. He cups your pussy, his fingers playing with your slit. 

“Woof.”

He laughs, he is not oblivious to the fact about how pathetic this makes both of you look but he 

can’t help it. 

It makes his dick hard. 

His fingers graze along your dripping cunt before settling on your stiff, little pearl. He flicks your cute clit and you cry. Your insides clenching and your mind going crazy, Dabi keeps rubbing onto your clit until you cum.

You let out a loud moan as you feel slick running down your legs. The pressure finally bursts and you see heaven. Dabi still holds you close to him, wrapping his arms around you dearly. 

“That’s the second time you’ve disobeyed me, puppy?” he rasps in your ear and you freeze. The state of ecstasy that you had found yourself in, finally fading away. You open your mouth to speak but Dabi shuts you up by shoving his fingers into your mouth. 

“You’re being a little bratty these days, it’s time we let you in ‘timeout’, right?” 

Your face pales and stomach. 

You cry for forgiveness hoping Dabi would reconsider but we all know, he doesn’t give second chances. 

[imagineyourworld]

First Impressions

Peggy Carter x Fem!Stark!Reader 

Summary: When Peggy and Howard’s sister first meet they both get the wrong impression of why the other is at Howard’s apartment 

Warnings: Drinking, allusions to sex

Check out more of my work here 

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Peggy had begun questioning why she ever agreed to meet with Howard, she knew that man was impossible. But he was also one of her oldest friends and when her friends asked for help she found it rather difficult to refuse.  So now here she was, in one of Howard’s lavish New York apartments waiting for the man who was already fifteen minutes late.  Finally Howard walked through the door.  “Good to see you, Peg”, he greeted before he made his way over to a small cart in the corner of the room and started pouring himself a drink. “Do you want a scotch?”  Peggy shook her head. “No, thank you, Howard. I’d like to know what you wanted to talk about, you said it’s urgent.”  With his drink in hand Howard sat down in the armchair opposite of the one Peggy was sitting in.  “Yes, I recently-”, he started but was interrupted by a young woman entering the room. She was very beautiful, Peggy noticed as soon as her eyes fell on the woman. And incredibly furious, judging by the fire in her eyes. It really is a shame, Peggy thought. That Howard always seduces beautiful girls and then drops them. Leaving them heartbroken at worst and at at him at best. “Howard Stark, you ungrateful, arrogant, self obsessed idiot! I flew all the way to New York for you, even though I had better things to do I might add, and the second I turn my back you hurry off to meet one of your girlfriends?”  Howard jumped up and lifted his hands in surrender.  “(Y/N), my dear, it’s not like that. This is-”  The woman, with an accusatory finger in the air, shook her head as she stepped closer. She stopped only a few centimeters before Howard and for a moment Peggy thought she was about to hit him, not that it was underserved if he really invited that poor girl over only to leave her alone.  With a sigh he put his glass on the small table next to the armchair he had just vacated.  “How about we talk in private?”, he asked and without waiting for an answer he grabbed the woman by the elbow and lead her out of the room.  “I’ll be back in just a moment, Peg”, he yelled over his shoulder before the door closed behind him. 

-------

“You can’t just burst into a room like that, I was having an important meeting”, your brother started.  You just rolled your eyes. You knew what kind of ‘meeting’ he was talking about and were not keen on deepening the topic.  “I thought that’s what your many bedrooms are for, not the sitting room that’s supposed to be for everybody”, you shot back.  Howard tried to put on his most charming smile, which it seemed had granted him the favour of the woman currently sitting on the other side of the door. The woman you couldn’t help but think about. She was gorgeous, Howard’s conquests usually were, but it wasn’t just her beauty that made her stand out, there was something else about her. Maybe it was the way she held herself, as if she had found her place in the world and had no intention of moving. Maybe it was the smile on her lips, that kinda reminded you of your own whenever your brother had said or done something dumb. Or maybe it was the kindness and determination in her eyes, that you had spotted after looking at her for only a split second.  “You know, that woman in there is too good for you, they’re all too good for you and never realise it until it’s too late”, you couldn’t help but yell. Part of you was actually hoping that maybe the pretty brunette could hear you and would take your words to heart.  Instead of answering you Howard simply smiled.  “You like her, don’t you?”  Though your brother often disregarded women’s feelings, that was never the case with you. The two of you could read each other like a book and you were lucky enough that you never had to hide your attraction towards women from him, if anything it brought the two of you closer together, since you had basically the same type.  “I like pretty much every living being enough not to wish them heartbreak caused by Howard Stark”, you scoffed.  He leaned closer to you until his lips almost brushed your ear and though the two of you were close and you were not opposed to being physically close to your brother, the stench of his cologne and the lingering smell of scotch almost made you push him away, until he whispered something in your ear, that is.  “It’s really not like that, she’s a friend.” Howard must have sensed that you were about to tell him that you knew exactly what his female ‘friends’ were to him, so he continued. “That’s Peggy Carter in there. The one I’ve been telling you about.”  You opened your mouth and closed it again. That was Peggy Carter? Howard really had told you a lot about her, and judging by the smug grin he was now sporting he knew that you had developed a slight crush just based on his stories. But how could he have left out how pretty she was? How could Howard of all people not have mentioned it?  Finally you found your voice again.  “Well, perhaps you should introduce me then.” 

-------

Peggy looked up from the magazine she had been flipping through when the door opened again. She had been expecting Howard to come in alone, but instead he held the door open for the young woman and closed it behind the two of them.  “(Y/N), would you like something to drink?”, he asked as if nothing had happened.  The woman sat down in the armchair Howard had occupied earlier and Peggy wasn’t sure whether she should admire her ability to make herself at home in Howard’s apartment or find it disgraceful.  “I don’t suppose you have a water on that cart, do you?”  Peggy looked from the woman to Howard and back again. They did realise she was right there in the room with them, didn’t they?  “I’m afraid not. But I had Jarvis buy some of that way too sweet iced tea that you like so much.”  The woman nodded with a pleased smile gracing her lips, lips that Peggy tried her best not to look at because this was one of Howard’s girlfriends and she shouldn’t be looking at her like that.  “Thanks”, the woman said to Howard, who had positioned himself on the armrests of her chair.  She took a sip and Peggy could have sworn that this woman was doing everything to draw attention to her kissable lips.  “I don’t suppose you’ll introduce me?”, she finally asked Howard, her eyes flitting over to the woman, who seemed to be staring at her.  Howard jumped up from his seat and lifted a hand to motion to the woman.  “Peggy, this is (Y/N) Stark, my sister. (Y/N), Peggy Carter, my most trusted friend.”  Peggy couldn’t believe her ears. Sister, she’s his sister. Even though at first glance they didn’t look much alike, there was something in the way they held themselves, something about their gestures and their smile that made her realise that, yes, she was indeed Howard’s sister.  Not having forgotten her good upbringing Peggy stood up and offered her hand. (Y/N) did the same.  “It’s nice to finally meet you, Howard’s told me a lot about you”, she said with a smile. A smile that Peggy could have sworn made her knees go weak.  “I wish I could say the same”, she replied with a smile she hoped was equally as charming.  She couldn’t quite read (Y/N), wasn’t sure whether her smile was simply friendly or perhaps meant something more, but something told her that she’d have a lot of time to figure it out.  “What do you say, Peg, do you wanna stay for dinner?”, Howard chimed in.  Peggy let go of the other woman’s hand, only now realising that she was still holding it, and nodded.  Usually she would have declined, dinner at Howard’s was always a long and prestigious affair, but if sitting through dinner meant she’d have another chance to see (Y/N) smiling at her she’d gladly bear it.  “I’d love to”, she said, looking more at the woman she knew she wanted to get to know better, whose lips she wanted to kiss and whose laughter she wanted to hear than Howard. “I’d really love to.”  (Y/N) smiled and for the first time since Steve went into the ice Peggy felt as if she had a chance at love again. 

-------

I just finished the first season of Agent Carter for the first time (I know, shame on me for waiting this long) and it just inspired me to write something about this beautiful badass woman. As always, feedback is very welcome. 

[fuwushiguro]

@nomadmilk​ thank you sooooo much for the congrats gorg!! sorry its taken so long to write this, but welcome to bunny life!! hope u have a fantastic shift and enjoy ur time with hawks (he’s super popular at these things!!)

This is part of my Playboy Mansion event which is now closed.

Hawks x f!reader

Genre: smut

Warnings: 18+, consensual sex, mentions of alcohol, oral (male receiving), fingering, mentions of cum, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, car sex, daddy kink, praise kink, degradation.

Words: 2k

The party was in full swing. Everyone was chatting, laughing, dancing, generally having a great time. So why were you so bored? This is your latest in a long line of Playboy parties. They’re fun, of course they’re fun. That’s why so many people come to attend these things after all. It’s such an exclusive event, invite only and only those in the know get the special pink envelope in the post every time the function comes around. But it’s the same every time, it’s the same smiling, happy faces dancing and drinking every single time. You were bored.

You needed some excitement.

You got more than you bargained for when a trio of bunnies approached you. They cat walked over to you, one slightly in front of the others. These particular bunnies are a group of girls you haven’t really taken the time to get to know. You say hello in passing, but nothing more past that. They looked like they meant business, like they had something to tell you about.

“You do work here, yes?” the leader questioned you. You quirked an eyebrow. Was the outfit not enough of a giveaway? Or the fact you see her almost daily since you both live here. You just nodded, simply. Not sure you’d be able to keep your attitude in check if you actually spoke. “So why are you just sitting here? Work the room, get drinks for the guests.” she commanded. You scoffed.

“Sure.” you replied as you stood to your feet. Before you could get back to work, she grabbed you harshly by the wrist. “Let go of me.” you yelped as you attempted to free yourself from her hold.

“What’s wrong with your fucking face? This is a party. You have the best job in the world, seem a little happy about it.” she scolded as she got in your face. Just as you were about to use your free hand to slap her across her stupid smug face, a third party intervened and snatched her away from you.

“Behave little bunny.” he spoke. Her features instantly transformed from furious to flirtatious.

It was Keigo Takami. You’d seen him around before, but never spoke to him. You’d never been this close to him. Most of the bunnies had a soft spot for Keigo, and it wasn’t hard to see why. He was pretty. A pretty blonde stranger with a splash of mystery. What wasn’t to like? He was a big flirt too; you’d heard several stories exchanged of him from the other girls. He’d fucked quite a few of them, even though it was against the rules.

“Keigo!” she began excitedly, “nice to see you again baby… You wanna go somewhere?” she asked him. He looked over to you, but you paid him no mind. You picked up your cocktail tray and wandered off towards the bar.

“Not tonight.” he simply stated as he followed you.

He tapped your right shoulder and you immediately looked to see who it was, when you didn’t immediately see him you turned to your left to see him smiling. He clearly thought it was amusing, but you were in no mood. You gave him a half hearted smile as you reached the bar, you set your tray down and waited for the bar staff to fill it up with drinks for you to carry.

“Tough night?” Keigo questioned. You nodded.

“Apparently your girlfriend doesn’t like me too much.” you responded. He shook his head, immediately denying the accusing tone to your voice. Keigo doesn’t do girlfriends. Before he lets you pick up your serving tray, he rests his heavy hand on it preventing you from lifting.

“Apologies if this comes off a little forward or… you know… inappropriate,” he began, “but do you wanna come and take a breather in my car with me?”

You knew what he was doing. It wasn’t as smooth of a line as he thought it was. But he was staring into your eyes, you were staring back into the pretty pools of honey that were fixated on you. Your hand was on his as you had placed it there when you initially wanted your tray back. It was silly that you were even contemplating it, but the overwhelming adrenaline from the bitch bunny’s confrontation had your train of thought all over the place. You couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t think what a good and bad idea was. You just wanted some air, you wanted to be out of here. So, you held his gaze and parted your lips.

“Yes.”

☆ ☆ ☆

You left together, and no one seemed to notice. There were so many guests and a large selection of bunny girls, who would care if two people went missing? He opened the passenger side door for you. So chivalrous. You thought to yourself. When he began driving, he put a hand onto your headrest. His face was a little too close to yours as he reversed, he poked his tongue out as he was concentrating. You felt the blood fill your face, warming your cheeks from slight embarrassment. You did your best to turn away and regain your composure. The little act didn’t go unnoticed, Keigo looked at you and smiled.

“Are you nervous?” he queried.

“A little.” you confessed.

He began driving around the back of the mansion. There were so many acres to the yard, only a small fraction was used by the guests for these parties. But still, you’re fairly sure people aren’t meant to drive on the perfectly mowed grass.

“I don’t think you should be doing this.” you told him, but he didn’t stop. Plunging further and further into the darkness of the unlit field.

“Don’t worry babe, me and your boss go back.” he told you. The pet name making you dizzy.

The car came to a stop. Silence. You knew what was about to happen. He knew what was about to happen. But the tension in the air was immeasurable. It was a waiting game to see who’d make the first move. You could barely look in his direction. The tense atmosphere could be cut with a knife.

☆ ☆ ☆

“Good girl…” he cooed. Your throat accommodating seven inches of his fat veiny cock. Your eyes watered, but you didn’t care. His hand rested delicately on the crown of your head while you went at your own pace.

You sloshed your tongue around his erection, stimulating each vein as you bobbed up and down.

“Such a good fucking bunny, aren’t you? My little cock slut.” he praised.

You felt shame that you were just another bunny on his ever growing list of conquests, but in this moment with his cock head nudging your tonsils, you’re finding it difficult to care. When you lifted your head, he wrapped a fist around the base of his shaft and started jerking himself off. He forced your head back to his cock, you let him fill your wet cavern with his tip. You knew he was close, his moaning was like music to your ears.

“Hnng. – fuck – fucking hell sweetheart I’m gonna fucking cum.” he announced. You hummed approvingly. “Gonna take it all aren’t you? Take all of my fucking cum you – jesus fuck - you little slutty bunny, take daddy’s cum.” he pumped his cock a couple of more times before spilling into you with a needy high pitch whine. Thick white ropes filled into your mouth and you swallowed almost instantly.

“Thank you.” you smiled sweetly, showing him the lack of cum in your mouth. He was still heaving from his orgasm. There was a sheen layer of sweat clinging to his skin, little beads dripping down his forehead.

“Fuckin’ hell sweetheart.” he spoke, it sounded like more praise. Like he was impressed with you. The thought of making him proud went straight to your aching cunt. He took a few more moments to settle himself down and regain his composure. When his breathing steadied, he grabbed you by the wrist and pulled you onto his lap. He kissed you deeply while you positioned yourself to straddle him on the driver’s seat. He slowly unbuttoned the bottom of your corset, revealing your lacy black panties that resided underneath. He pushed them to the side and ran a single digit up the length of your slit. The feeling made you shudder and collapse your body onto his.

His cock was back to full mast, he used the tip head to explore your folds before plunging into you.

“Hnng… Daddy…” you mewled, earning a scoff from the blonde.

“You’re like that huh? A slut for daddy like that? Get yourself off,” he commanded, “Go on, get yourself off on daddy’s cock.”

You descended onto his length and he sat snugly at your cervix. You wrapped your arms around his neck to steady yourself. He pulled down the front of your corset, wanting to watch your tits bounce as you used him to get off. He used his tongue to dance over your left nipple and a free hand to roll your right one between his finger and thumb. The occasional pinch forcing you to clench around him. You were bouncing on him, taking him so well. He took a moment to look at your face, admiring the way your eyes scrunched and lips pouted as little ‘ooo’ sounds escaped.

“That’s it baby girl, just like that.” he smiled. The sweet pet name was enough incentive to make you pick up the pace. Raising higher and sinking lower on his fat cock, each vein hitting every sweet spot inside of you. You could feel the car rocking. But you didn’t care. No one would know, no one could see, no one could hear.

“D-daddy, oh! Oh daddy! Fuck!” you cried.

“Yeah babe, just like that. Juuuuust like that baby. Fuck you’re such a good slut for daddy aren’t you?” he told you. His fingers dug into the supple flesh of your hips, and you’re sure tomorrow they’ll turn into beautiful blue blooms to remind you of who you belonged to tonight. He started meeting your motions, thrusting up inside you and hitting deeper than you could by yourself.

“Hnng. Keigo! Gonna, gonna cum daddy!” you practically shouted, the feeling of the coil within you coming undone. He couldn’t respond, he had reached his peak for the second time and was soiling your insides. But you didn’t stop, he didn’t stop either. He wanted to fuck his seed further into you, his bruising thrusts were relentless.

“Good girl, you can do it. Doing such a good job f’me.” he told you.

Within seconds he felt your cunt clamp him in, he didn’t think he had anything more to give you but the feeling of your glorious snatch trapping him unravelled him once again. Depositing more of his load into your tight pussy. You collapsed on him once again, moaning into his ear as you came around his cock. You moved your body back slightly to look at him, kissing him deeply. Your tongue massaging his as you carried on panting into each other. You carried on warming his cock, but parted your bodies slightly so you could calm down. He looked down at where the two of you were connected and snickered.

“What a pretty little mess you made.” he commented. When you looked there was a mixture of his cum and your slick stuck to his trousers. You looked at him, innocently batting your lashes.

You had officially made the list of bunnies that Keigo had fucked. But you had a feeling you’d be on an even more exclusive list of bunnies that Keigo wants to fuck more than once.

© 2021 fuwushiguro

I hope you enjoyed your shift as a playboy bunny!! Thanks so much for taking part in this event I hope this was worth the wait!! Mwah mwah xxx

[ultimate-sidemen-imagines]

A Not So Happy Anniversary

Title: A Not So Happy Anniversary

Pairing: Reader/Harry

Word Count: 3,151

Warning: SMUT SMUT SMUT

Summary: You and Harry have a long distance relationship. When Harry messes up and misses your three year anniversary, you confront him face to face.

Author’s Note: Ladies and gents, it feels good to be back. My inbox is open to requests. Let me know what you think!

You were furious with him. 

Completely and utterly furious with him. 

He had done this to you a million times, you always had forgiven him and moved on. But this? This was definitely something you couldn’t let go.

Both you and Harry had been dating for three years now, not a moment did you regret the decision to date the famous "wroetoshaw" on YouTube. You would be the first one to admit that his fanbase and everything that came with being labeled as his girlfriend terrified you but Harry made it worth it. Thankfully, the both of you had managed to keep your relationship away from the public. Fans not in your personal lives eliminated any unnecessary stress you both didn’t need. You were happy, he was happy. You guys barely fought. But that was about to change tonight.

Harry lived in two places: Guernsey and London. He traveled back between the two constantly which always made you a little bit upset. You understood why he'd want to live in London, of course you did. When you had gone out there with him, even you struggled to leave London once your time was up. A mix of the city life and the fact most of Harry’s friends lived there - it was a no brainer. 

But being stranded in Guernsey while Harry was away in London had been the first major roadblock in your relationship. There would be long amounts of time that Harry would be in London, leaving you by yourself at home and missing your boyfriend. He'd always come back eventually and apologize in a shower of kisses. You couldn't help yourself but forgive him but this was too far now. 

You stormed off back inside your small little flat, flipping off any guys that whistled at you in your short, black mini-dress while doing so. You had decided to get dressed up since tonight was a pretty big deal - the three year milestone with Harry. Your anniversary was today, something that you had reminded Harry about for two weeks. He promised over and over again that he would be home on time for your anniversary and that he'd meet you at your favorite restaurant for a romantic meal. Long story short, you had been sitting at the table for two hours with no sign of Harry. He'd let you down. 

You burst through the front door of your flat, throwing your heels off to the floor and locking the door with both locks. At least that way, Harry couldn't get in if he got there in the morning. You sniffled, feeling yourself now start to get upset more than angry. How could he do this? He promised. You’d always forgiven him for being late to come home before but this just felt like a slap in the face. 

A second later, you were at the fridge - taking out a bottle of wine and taking a swig from it. You knew it was stupid to try and numb the pain with alcohol, it would only leave you feeling like shit in the morning. You shook your head and put the bottle away, deciding to just go to bed and forget about Harry until the morning. 

It was about half an hour later when you had finally gone to bed, wearing one of Harry’s t-shirts and sweats. You were scrolling through Twitter to see if Harry had written anything yet no tweets came up for today. You were a little concerned at that but once you remembered just why you were angry with them, any feelings of being concerned were out the window. You turned off your phone and placed it on your side table - not being able to avoid the framed photo of you and Harry sitting there. At the sight of it, you quickly turned off your lamp and went to sleep. 

-

"Y/N, Y/N. Baby, wake up." You felt yourself being shaken out of your dream, your name being repeated over and over again. Eventually, your dream of a happy anniversary slipped away and your eyes fluttered open. 

You saw a dark figure over you in the bed, causing you to scream out. The figure put his hand over your mouth, trying to reach over to turn on the light as you struggled against his hand. "Babe! Stop! It's me! Harry!" He exclaimed in a loud whisper, turning on the dim lamp light to reveal himself. 

You calmed down as soon as you realized it was him, shoving him off you and sitting up in the bed. "For fuck sake Harry, you can't just hover over me in pitch darkness at-" You looked over at the time. "2:30 in the fucking morning!" 

"How the hell did you get in here anyway? I locked the front door with both locks." You grumbled, crossing as arms as Harry raised an eyebrow

"Yeah, I noticed that. I had to climb up a floor outside and get in through your window." He motioned the open window before shooting you an amused look. "I told you that you needed to lock your windows." 

"And you need to take the hint when I don’t want you in the flat." You grumbled, before grabbing one of your pillows and throwing it at him. "Harold, leave. I don't want to fucking talk to you or even look at you right now." 

"C’mon babe, don’t be like that. I know you missed me." He joked, only making the situation worse in pure Harry style. How the hell could he be making jokes and not even acknowledge how badly he had messed up? You just glared at him, shoving him off the edge of your bed and laying back down. "Go to the couch - we’ll talk in the morning when you’re actually ready to have a serious conversation.”

"Baby, come on. I'm joking." He cooed as you just ignored him and tried to go back to sleep. Harry bit his lip and sat back on the bed again next to you, watching your body turn away from him. He took the peaceful moment to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear before running a finger down your arm softly. 

"Harry, I’ll seriously do something I’ll regret if you don’t get out and give me some space." You seethed, though Harry didn't budge. 

"Your threats don't make you scary, babe. You're like a hamster." He teased before he decided to get serious - he knew you'd really kick him out of the flat if he kept pulling jokes as such. "Look I'm sorry, okay?" 

"Sorry for what, Harry? Missing our anniversary, maybe? Maybe promising you'd be home yet you didn't come back on time. Really? I always let it go but you crossed a fucking line this time." You shot back at him. 

"My flight got delayed, okay?" Harry admitted in defeat. "The plane was having engine failure so we couldn't take off in time. I had to sit on that plane for ages, I only just landed an hour ago." He said, leaning down to kiss your shoulder. "I'm really sorry that I missed our dinner. I'll make it up to you, okay? Please don't be angry with me. It’s not my fault that Gatwick is proper shit." 

"No Harry, I will be angry at you." You said annoyed, still refusing to turn your body towards him. "Okay fair enough, your flight got pushed back far. But you could've come back to Guernsey days ago so you wouldn't miss our anniversary or maybe actually spend some time with me - but no. You're too busy partying it up in London with all your friends and all the girls that probably want to sleep with you the first chance they get. I know there’s gonna be one day where you just don’t come back to Guernsey for me and that’ll be the end of us." 

"Babe, where is all this coming from? You know when we started dating that I said I’d be travelling back and forth." Harry frowned, knowing your anger was coming from something more than him missing dinner tonight. He hated to see you aggravated over this topic. Especially when all his friends knew just how much he loved you and how loyal he was. He knew that you weren’t exactly the biggest fan of the amount of female attention he received online. He understood that. But it did bother him seeing you truly believe that he’d never come back home to you one day. “What makes you think I’d ever do anything like that to you?”

"I’m just scared, Harry." You whispered back at him. "I'm very scared of what could happen while you're in London while I'm stuck here." You closed your eyes and tried to block everything out. Until you felt him turn you on your back. You opened your eyes slowly to look up at Harry hovering over you. You felt your heart skip a beat looking up at him in the dim light. Even when you were upset and mad with him, he still had the power to take your breath away. 

"You're mad, you know that? Absolutely crazy." Harry stated, leaning down to place a kiss on your forehead. "You think I'd get bored of you? Seriously? Take a look in the fucking mirror, Y/N." He teased you before he returned to neutral. “Whatever I’ve done to make you believe any of what you just said? I’m so sorry, babe. The last three years I’ve had with you have been the best of my life. I would never violate you like that.”

“You know I also work in London too - doing all the Sidemen shoots and videos. I’m building that brand more and more to make sure that I can always come home whenever I want. I’m doing it so that we can live comfortably, that I can take you on holidays and help you pay for this place while I’m away. Never once have I been in London and not missed you, Y/N. I know I’m definitely far from perfect but I won’t let you think that I don’t love you. Cause I do, so fucking much.”

He leaned down and placed kisses down the side of your face - pressing a quick peck on your lips before moving down to your neck. 

"I fucking hate you sometimes." You insulted, gasping when you felt him leave love bites on the certain spot on your neck that drove you crazy. You snaked a hand into his hair when he did so, feeling yourself wanting him more rather than wanting to punch him back to London. 

"I sincerely doubt that you hate me right now." He said in a cocky tone, pulling his head back to admire the hickies he had left on your neck and smirking down at you. 

"Shut the fuck up." You growled, grabbing his fistful of his jumper and pulling his face back down to yours. You slammed your lips back against his, the whole action coming from both anger at him missing your anniversary dinner and lust at the same time. You knew there was love in your actions as well but you were more focused on other things at hand. 

Harry did a pretty good job at keeping up with the pace of your lips against his, deepening it and taking the moment to nip at your bottom lip. You moaned softly at that before your hands were underneath his clothes, practically ripping them off him and throwing them off to the side. He did the same with you, the both of you continuing to keep your lips together almost like it was a form of life source. 

It wasn't long before the couple were now fully naked, Harry's body pressing against yours as you made out. Something about his skin pressed against yours always gave you a funny feeling in your stomach - such a warm and safe feeling. You knew that you loved this boy after three years of dating, you only hoped you'd be able to communicate that through this.

Harry pulled back after a while, leaning over to the bedside table to retrieve a condom while you placed kisses along his neck. You made sure to leave your own marks on his skin. He grabbed one quickly enough and groaned at your hickies, pulling himself off to you long enough to roll the condom onto himself. You felt your eyes gleam at the sight of your fit boyfriend in his most vulnerable state. You completely understood why she got so jealous of him being away from you - he was such a gorgeous boy. 

Your boyfriend was back on you a second later, continuing to make-out with you again as he settled himself between your legs. You wrapped your legs around his waist to keep him close, eventually both of you pulling away for air. There were no words uttered between the two, speaking with your eyes and facial expressions. The rough lust and anger had faded away now to a soft kindness and love that you felt whenever you were near Harry. You smiled at him as he returned the favor before pushing into you without another second wasted. 

"Oh!" You moaned, leaning your head back against the pillows as he did so. It had been awhile for you both, having been ages since he was last home. You had definitely missed this. "Harry," You breathed out as he let out a long sigh, getting used to the feeling of being back inside you before he started to set a pace. “Feel so good around me, baby. Fuck I missed you.”

"Harry," You moaned louder this time, going up in volume the faster he went. "Harder, baby." You urged him on, hearing a type of groan and growl leave from his lips. He buried his face into your neck as he continued to thrust faster, leaving more hickies on the other side of your neck. 

"Oh fuck yes." He grunted against your skin, his words only bringing back that fluttery feeling in your stomach. "My gorgeous girlfriend. Even when you’re angry at me, you’re still so fucking hot.” He whispered, lifting his head up from your neck to look at you in the eyes while he fucked you. “No-one can have you, you hear me? You're mine." He whispered, taking one of his hands to wrap around your neck. Not too tight but enough to send your mind spiraling.

"Oh fuck Harry!" You cried out at this, your hands going straight to his shoulders. You dug your fingernails into his skin, dragging them down his pale back as you struggled to get your words out. "You're mine, Lewis. You're mine and I'm yours." You choked out, gasping and moaning out a version of his name at every thrust.

"Damn right." He growled, eventually turning you both over so you were on top of him. He kept control despite the change in position, angling his hips up and holding your hips to keep you steady. He kept doing that for a while, just smirking at hearing the porn-worthy noises that came past your lips. That smirk wiped away however when he felt his thrusts starting to falter, Harry coming closer and closer to his orgasm just like you.

"Oh baby, I'm so close." You whispered, clutching onto him as she felt her high nearing. Harry only smirked at this, trying to go as fast as he could in that moment. He sat up from the mattress, keeping a hold on your hips. He kissed you, "Go on baby, come for me. I wanna hear you." He growled against your lips. That was your breaking point.

"Harry!" You practically screamed, reaching orgasm. It was incredible the types of orgasms Harry gave to you, they always left you speechless and shaking. You heard strangled groans of your name come from Harry, feeling him reach his orgasm too. You kept rocking your hips against his as you both worked each other through your orgasms - eventually stopping when Harry pulled out. He collapsed down onto the mattress, bringing you down with him and holding you against him.

You were left a panting mess, resting against Harry’s body and your head on his chest. All that could be heard was your and Harry's panting, both of your eyes closed to take in what just happened before Harry motioned you to look at him.

"You still mad at me?" Harry asked sweetly after a while, “I don’t know how you could be after that.”

"Oh shut up." You rolled your eyes playfully, enjoying his laughter before you pecked his lips.

"Still - I still think something needs to change, Harry." You admitted, gaining Harold's attention. "I mean... I... I love you, I do. And I want to be with you. But you’re in London constantly. I can’t even travel to see you that often because of university. If I’m just barely going to see you, I can't deal with that. I need a compromise." 

Harry thought about what you said for a moment, placing a small kiss to your forehead. "You're right. I will admit that I love London more than Guernsey but I love you more than anything." He admitted to you, nothing left but love filling his beautifully colored eyes of his. "So let's fix the problem. When you graduate from uni, come back to London with me."

"What?" You asked, confused. 

"Come back with me to London, move in with me and Cal. We never have to be apart that way." He cooed. "I can talk to the guys about letting me come back to Guernsey every couple weeks or so to see you more rather than what I have been doing until you finish school. But when you finish, I want you to move out to London to stay with me permanently. I want to have you there for everything. None of this long distance bullshit. Especially if it’s making you doubt me. I want you with me. To prove to you that you never had anything to be scared about.”

It was definitely a lot for you to take in, moving from your small little town to the big city of the UK. You were nervous about thinking of starting a life there but as you looked at Harry and saw that future involved him - it became a no brainer. 

"We'll talk about it properly in the morning, okay? For now, let’s get some sleep. Especially since you gotta make up for missing today." You said softly with a smile, pecking his lips before laying your head back on his chest. 

"So after the morning sex?" Harry teased, making you roll your eyes and hitting him with the nearest pillow as his laughter vibrated throughout the whole flat. 

Yep. London sounded pretty good.

[bakugosbigtoe]

Wowowow this month has been crazy.

Here’s a piece for the BNHA March collab. This months topic was a Sex Worker AU, and I actually had a lot of fun writing this!! It’s the first thing I’ve actually finished in a long time. So I hope everyone enjoys!!!

Himiko Toga as a sex worker

Content Warnings! Nsfw, hints of dark nsfw, degradation, knife kink, blood kink, death, murder, talk of sex work

—————————————————————————

Word Count: 3,190

It was a cold winter night, as Himiko Toga walked the lonely streets of Musutafu. Her hair was down instead of in her normal messy space buns, and instead of her classic button down shirt and skirt, she wore a long overcoat that covered the black and red lingerie set she had on. She had dabbled in the trade of sex work a few times, but it didn't sit right with her.

Until now.

Now she had a reason to do what she was doing.

And that reason was for you.

By now you and Toga had become good enough friends to know what her side job was, even though Toga had promised to never tell a soul. She was scared to tell you at first, since being a sex worker was frowned upon, but of course. You were supportive, you always were. And Toga loved that about you.

The blonde woman stood outside of the hotel your husband agreed to meet her at. She assumed he made another bullshit excuse as to why he wasn't coming home to you, but she also lied about her whereabouts tonight. Toga pulled her coat tightly against her body, mostly to try and comfort herself, rather than for the fact she was cold. She didn't want to have to be the one to break the news to you about your husband's antics. But.. she also didn't want to see you sad anymore.

She would've done anything for you. Whether it was showing up to your place of work with your favorite breakfast and coffee on mornings you were running late. Or coming over and spending the nights when your husband didn't come home.

And for the past week she had been living at your house and your husband? He was nowhere to be found.

Until the night the two of you hatched this plan. Toga was swiping through Tinder when she stumbled across your husband. So of course she showed you his profile, it broke you. Toga held you while you cried, reassuring you everything would be okay. Once you had calmed down enough to form a sentence you asked her to prove he was cheating on you. You needed proof, because you still didn't believe it.

And when he took the bait all too easily, Toga was furious. How could someone cheat on you like that? You were perfect! She never would have admitted it out loud but she may have had a small crush on you.

That was a lie.

It was more than a crush and Toga knew that. She had been in love with you since the moment she met you. But you were married to a cheater nonetheless.

So Toga told you she would take care of it for you, and that's exactly what she planned to do. By any means necessary.

Around midnight, your husband's car finally pulled into the hotel parking lot. He had made a reservation at your favorite hotel, which Toga thought was just cruel. So instead of waiting outside for him any longer she walked inside. She pulled her bane mask over her face so he wouldn't recognize her by the reflection in the crystal clear glass.

While speaking to the nice woman behind the counter, Toga felt two hands on her waist and a kiss was planted on the top of her head.

“Sorry, I took so long parking the car babe.” The familiar rough voice sent a shiver down Togas spine. She didn't want to be in this situation, but she needed to do it for you.

Toga smiled up at him behind her mask, and spoke softly. “Dont worry about it.”

His smile faltered when he heard Togas voice, but he didn't make any notion suggesting he knew who she was. And for that she was thankful. Once Toga was given the room keys she tried swallowing the lump in her throat, the situation had just become surreal. She turned on her heel and started walking up the staircase to their room on one of the top floors.

Sure enough, your husband had chosen the room you two spent your last ‘staycation’. Toga remembered you flooding her snapchat with the fact there was a balcony, floor to ceiling windows and a large tub that both you and your husband fit in together. Togas stomach flipped as she watched him unlock the door for her, holding it open for her. He was trying to seem like such a gentleman, but that only made Toga more angry.

Once he let the door close behind them, he took his shirt off and hung it on one of the hooks before turning his attention to Toga. He waited until she made eye contact before he pulled off the wedding band he had supposedly been wearing for the past five years. But seeing how easily it came off, Toga was now convinced this hobby wasn't just something that he had recently picked up.

The blonde let her bag slip off her shoulder onto the floor with a clunk as she turned to set up the camera you insisted on making her bring. You needed to see what was happening, so you could move on. Which.. Toga knew that, but she never wanted to see you hurt in any type of way. She also knew that this could probably kill you. It was obvious looking at your husband that you were head over heels for him. And he couldn't even bother to be faithful. That sent a wave of rage through Toga’s body.

Fueling the anger that was already inside of her.

“What are you waiting for?” Your husband asked as he started unbuttoning his shirt, a shirt you had bought him. “I want to see that pretty face underneath that mask.” He stepped towards Toga placing both his hands on her shoulders, and slowly rubbed them before lightly squeezing her upper arms. “If you wanted to keep it on, you should’ve said that when we set this up” He squeezed her arms painfully tight.

Only no matter hard he squeezed, Toga never made a sound. Instead she looked into the camera that had started to record the encounter she and your husband were about to have.

Toga turned around to face him and pulled him towards the bed before taking off her mask, “All you had to do was ask, no need to get rough. That costs extra.” She ran her hand down your husband's chest as he cupped her cheek, running his rough finger over her bottom lip as she spoke.

“Mm, how much extra?” He asked lowly, while running his hand through her long blonde locks.

Toga’s eyes widened at his question but answered confidently. “It depends on what you want to do. We never did discuss limits or what you would like to do with your time here.”

“Well” His hands left Togas body as he slowly circled her. “First off, you will only address me as sir from here on out. Secondly, I will call you.. y/n.” He waited to see Togas reaction as he stated your name.

“Y/n?” Toga choked out. He wanted to call her your name. Your name? “It’s lovely, is she someone close to you?”

“You could say that, I guess.” He brushed Togas hair out of her face and brought her mouth up to kiss him. The kiss was awkward and down right gross.

But because she needed the proof, Toga kissed him back. She unbuttoned his shirt the rest of the way, while dragging her nails down his chest. His hands went to the tie on her overcoat and undid it swiftly before pulling back to admire her body.

His hands roamed hungerly down her body, roughly grabbing her breasts through the lingerie set. “What are your limits, y/n?”

Your husband's eyes stared into Togas, with nothing but anger and hatred. “I don’t have any, sir.”

“None whatsoever?” He asked as he kissed down Toga’s jaw, before roughly grabbing her throat, cutting off her airway. He let out a soft growl in her ear and chuckled, “Then get on your knees.”

She hesitated for a moment, and he must have seen that. Because instead of letting Toga kneel on her own, he forced her to the ground so now she was eye level with the tent in his pants. He grabbed a handful of her hair and made her look up at him.

He was getting off on her distress. She was sure now, you had no idea this side of him existed. The cruel man who hired sex workers, and called them by your name, and doing the things to them you never would allow him to do you.

The man in front of Toga reached down to his waistband and unbuckled his belt then hissed through a clenched jaw, “What are you waiting for? I'm the one paying you.”

Toga swallowed her own pride for a moment and unbuttoned the man's pants, letting them drop to his knees as he slid his boxers down as well. She was rather surprised by the size of him, and now understood why you were hardly able to walk after one of your date nights. Your husband seemed well aware of how endowed he actually was and watched Toga intently. She sighed softly and gripped the base of his cock. She slowly licked over his tip, ridding it of the pre-cum that seemed to coat the entire head.

A moan was heard from the man as Toga went further down on his cock. Hearing him moan sent a shiver through her body, so she swirled her tongue around him as her hand pumped up and down his shaft. He was already practically hitting the back of her throat and he wasn't even halfway in her mouth. At this point she was grateful she didn't have a gag reflex and forced his cock down her throat.

His hand went into her hair, pulling her further into him. “Fuck, y/n~”

Toga inhaled his musky scent and pulled back for a moment, letting the trail of her saliva string from his cock to her puffy lips. She stroked his cock quickly, earning breathy moans with every pump of her hand. Without warning his hand in her hair pulled her forward until her lips pressed up against his tip again.

“Open your fucking mouth,” He growled as Toga stopped her motions and braced herself against his thighs. Once she did as she was told, the man grabbed her by jaw, pulled her to her feet and then spit into her mouth, “What a fucking slut. Get on the bed.”

At this rate, it would be a miracle if Toga didn't leave the hotel room without bruises on her jaw. She thought back to you, wondering if he ever marked you like that.

Toga pushed that thought to the back of her mind as she climbed onto the bed. As she went to turn back to face him, the man came up behind her and grabbed her hips. Turning Toga onto her back, he- quite literally- ripped the lingerie set off of her, tossing the torn lace to the side.

His hands roughly groped her body as he made his way down to her throbbing cunt. He brushed a finger up and down her slit before slowly inserting his index finger. The man may have been rough with her until now, but it seemed he at least wanted her to have a good time. When the first moan left Togas mouth, she swore under her breath. She hated that his hands on her body felt good, and that he kept calling out your name.

A second finger was inserted as Toga’s body responded to his movements. Right as he gained a consistent pattern, he stopped. She looked down at him, wondering why, and the second she made eye contact with her. He twisted his fingers inside of her, sending a sharp pain through Togas abdomen.

“I didn’t say you could look at me. Did I y/n?”

Toga shook her head and laid back down on the bed, the pain lingered inside of her. “No, sir.”

He clicked his tongue and stood up. Forcing Toga onto her stomach. The man brought her to the edge of the bed and pressed the tip of his cock against her entrance. And with no warning he inserted himself inside of her.

Toga clenched the bedsheets into her hands as she tried to stay quiet as he soon bottomed out inside of her. He moaned with every little move he made, until he gripped her hips tightly and started thrusting. He didn’t start out slow either. He slammed himself inside of her repeatedly, only seeming to use her to do the job. And somehow fill the role that- you- his wife hadnt fulfilled.

The blonde girl moaned into the sheets as he railed into as if he was trying to obliterate her organs. Soon after what only seemed like a few minutes he reached up and grabbed a handful of Togas hair. On top of pulling out of her. He practically picked up the much smaller girl and made her knee in front of him. His fingertips dug into her jaw and his other hand stroked his cock until the hot white, sticky threads of cum was released into Togas open mouth.

The second the first drop hit her tongue she tried not to gag, but it was useless. When he saw her gag as taste of his seed, he let go of her jaw and slapped her. The force was enough to knock her into the bedframe behind her.

The sound of the slap echoed through the now all too quiet room as Toga sat back up. Before she could actually process what happened, the man grabbed her arm once again and jerked her to her feet.

“What the hell was that?” Your husband squeezed Togas arm tightly as she tried pulling away from him. When she looked up at him she saw the anger and the hatred in his eyes as he slowly became more violent.

So now the situation had flipped to where instead of rough kinky sex- it was life it death. He was going to kill her if she wasn’t careful.

Toga managed to get one of her arms free of his grasp and slapped him in the face. She managed to slip her other arm from his grasp in that one split second of shock. Running across her room to the bag she had brought with her, Toga rummaged through it until she found a small letter opener.

While twisting the small knife in her hand, she looked at the camera that was still filming and mouthed, ‘I’m sorry.’

Your husband came up from behind Toga and wrapped his hand around her neck, while placing something cold and thin on the girls spine.

“You have spunk.” The man brought his hand around her to place the small pocket knife against the base of her neck. “I don’t like that, y/n. You’re supposed to listen.”

He dragged the blade across her skin slowly before ripping it away. Leaving a small shallow cut in her skin.

Togas eyes widened as she saw the blood dripping down her arm from the cut on her shoulder. He.. really was going to kill her.

She turned around and looked up at him. Keeping the letter opener behind her arm so she had at least one means of self defense. Even if it didn’t seem like much.

“I’m sorry, sir. I won’t do it again~” Her goal right now was to try and sound convincing. Despite the panic in her chest.

He reached up to touch Togas face with the pocket knife, dragging the flat part of the blade down her cheekbones. He flipped the blade so the sharp end was cutting into her soft skin, not quite hard enough to make her bleed.

Chills went up her spine as she subconsciously moved against his touch. She had always had a thing for knives and blood.

“Oh? You like that, y/n? The blade cutting into your skin? Who knew you were such a dirty little slut~” Your husband teased and pressed the knife into the artery on the side of Togas neck. “If you act up one more time, Himiko, then you’ll never see my wife again.”

Togas heart dropped into her stomach, he knew who she was, and he probably had known the whole time. Now she really was in danger.

“Not because I’m going to kill you, no no no. That,” He folded the knife and put it back into his pocket. “That would be too easy.” He tugged on her long blonde hair so she was looking up at him once again. “I’ll kill her instead, but not after telling you what you do for a living.”

A wave of anger ran through Toga's body as she listened to what he would do to you. Before she knew it something inside of her flipped and she pressed the sharp end of the letter opener into his neck.

“You think she doesn’t know?” Toga laughed, and not the cute laugh from before. This one had a sort of manic presence to it. “Y/n was the first person I told, because we have a mutual respect for each other.”

“She respects me for what I do, and I respect her for staying with a dirty cheater like you.” Toga pulled her arm back and jabbed the letter opener into the artery on the side of your husband's neck. His blood was pouring out of the small wound onto the carpet of the hotel room.

Toga reached into his pocket and pulled out the pocket knife before opening it, pressing the tip of the knife into his sternum. “If you haven’t realized I, unlike you, love your wife. So~ I’m going to leave you here, to hopefully bleed out before someone finds you.”

She stood up and grabbed her overcoat, putting it back on before walking back over to your husband's body. He had managed to pull the letter opener out, so now his blood was steadily coating the floor.

The girl grabbed a small glass vial from her bag and filled it with your husband's blood. Taking it to the small box of vials that she kept tucked away into her bag. Another cheater down and another wife to comfort..

Before she went to leave the room, she walked back over to his belongings and took his wedding ring. She could at least return this to you. Regardless of her hatred for your husband she wanted you to be happy.

She pulled the bane mask over her face and pulled her bag over her shoulder as she left the hotel quietly, completely unbothered by the fact she had just killed a man.

She waited on the edge of the sidewalk for a cab, giving them your address once she sat down inside.

She couldn’t wait to see you.

[shorkbrian]

Enough

My take?

Bakugou asks you out - it honestly comes out of nowhere.

Why would a pro hero be interested in just another paper-pusher working in his agency building? 

(NSFW, rough fucking, slight predatorXprey)

You were flattered to say the least, but also intimated. He had stormed up to you at your desk (the man had never spoke to you before, so you didn’t know what to think) and slammed his hands down, rattling your pens in their cup, making you jump.

“You’re gonna go out with me”

“W-what?”

“Did I fucking stutter? Go out with me.”

Had you missed something? You had never talked to the man in your life, had only seen him as he came and went, your work station one of the ones on the same floor as his “office”.

There had been no indication that he was interested in you - there had been no indication that Bakugou even knew you existed.

But you didn’t want to insult the hero, you knew he was proud and brash and maybe not the best at feelings, so maybe he’d been wanting to ask you/ talk to you for a while. 

Still, you didn’t feel comfortable saying yes.

Maybe it was the way he stood over your desk, practically leaning into your space, leering down at you with those bright red eyes. You didn’t like his tone, the way his words were a statement instead of a polite request. Almost as if he was ordering you to go out with him... or else.

So you brushed him off, you need some time to think about it, have to see if you have any free time (”I’ll give you a whole damn month off, lets fucking go do something or some shit.”) and you had to quickly come up with poor excuses, ones that both of you could tell were weak, fake.

 Bakugou had just set his jaw, before clicking his tongue and storming back into his office, leaving you alone at your desk.

Yeah, that had been a weird day.

The next week at work had been weird too, Bakugou glaring at you whenever you unintentionally looked in his general direction. He caught you in the break room, leaning in the doorway with a cup of coffee clutched in his calloused hands.

The man just smirked, stood still, made you squeeze your way past him even though he was perfectly capable of moving.

He had bumped into you in the elevator, mouth set in a firm line that somehow seemed pleased when the elevator filled up with other people, allowing him to crowd into your space, literally breathe down you neck.

The pro hero managed to “accidentally” trip and spill his cup of water all over you, making your shirt stick to your skin, your cheeks heating up in embarrassment. He had scoffed at you, before you had hurried past him and rushed to the bathroom to try and pat your shirt dry with paper towels.

By the third week of Bakugou being an absolute shithead, you had made your decision - not that you were going to let him know that. He hadn’t asked you about going out any further, and by now you knew, you didn’t want to get involved with that.

Bakugou was too volatile, too unstable and angry and insecure. You wouldn’t be able to handle even trying to connect with him.

So you did your best to avoid him

----

And oh, did Bakugou notice.

He didn’t like being ignored, being fucking teased. Because that’s obviously what you were doing, playing hard to get. Well, he was good at this game, always got his prize, everything that he wanted in the end.

It was clear that you wanted his attention, any attention for that matter. You wore those tight little shirts, buttons almost straining at the seams, the top button undone so Bakugou could see down you shirt every time you bent over in his line of sight.

Those slutty skirts, short and form-fitting, the slit up the back giving teasing glimpses of your legs as you walked. Every skirt you owned made your ass look great, Bakugou enjoyed admireing the view everyday whenever you were turned away from his office, bending over at a co-workers desk to look at some documents or some shit like that.

Your silky stockings that made your legs look so long and soft and smooth, the high heels that clicked with each step. Even though each and every outfit was modest and work-appropriate, your body just wouldn’t quit. You looked hot, Bakugou wasn’t afraid to admit that it was the reason why he had noticed you.

But there were plenty of beautiful women employed by his agency.

You were special.

There was something about you, the spark in your eye, the straightness of your spine. You were bold, weren’t willing to roll over and show your stomach. Bakugou knew you were stubborn and confident and stupidly self-assured. 

It intrigued him. You hadn’t thrown yourself at him, respected his space - that’s why you were allowed on the same floor as his office, one of the few desks that was in view of it.

He didn’t care about your existence at first. No, you were just another shitty extra. But damn, he had sure taken notice when you put an idiot in their place.

A fucking mailman had tried to “hand deliver” a package - meaning he was going to try and get up in Bakugou’s face, beg for an autograph, fanboy all over his office and be stupid and annoying and clingy. Bakugou was left wondering why the receptionist had even let him up, in which case damn, he should probably fire her or something.

Bakugou hadn’t even noticed the man until a shout drew his attention away from the boring paperwork on his desk. There you were, hands on your hips, staring down an angry mailman who was flailing his arms like a goddamn octopus. The man was mad, shouting at you about delivering the package, before you promptly snatched it out of his hands.

You set it to the side on your desk, before crossing your arms and turning back to the shocked mailman. You informed him that he could either get out now, or you’d drag him out by his ear, since he wanted to act like a pissy little baby.

And damn, did that make Bakugou pay attention to you.

Unfortunately, after the mailman had left with his tail between his legs, you hadn’t even attempted to take the package to Bakugou. You had asked one of your coworkers to do it, Bakugou had watched you gesture to the box on your desk while talking to one of the other employees. Truthfully, Bakugou was a little disappointed you weren’t going to come into his office.

But from that day on, he was hooked on you.

And now, with you trying to play coy, being a little bitch that couldn’t own up about their feelings? Bakugou was furious with you. He had been man enough to admit his feelings, to ask you out on a date, show his interest. And what had you done? Brushed him off, gave little fucking stupid excuses and tried to smile your way out of things.

Bakugou could see what you were playing at. 

Little tease.

He could tease right back.

After weeks of your stupid flirty game, Bakugou was done. It was clear you weren’t interested in him, kept avoiding him and turning the other way whenever you spotted him. Tried to take the stairs in order to not run into him on the elevator, conveniently got sick whenever Bakugou wanted to do trust building exercises with the team working on his floor.

He didn’t need your fucking approval, he could take what he wanted. You thought you were better than him? You were nothing but dirt. 

Granted, you were pretty dirt - dirt that made his heart clench tight and his dick twitch whenever he thought of you in your little pencil skirts.

But still dirt.

And for some reason, even though you had subtly turned him down, you still decided to be the worlds biggest tease.  Bakugou was going to snap, he was frustrated and horny and angry that you didn’t even have the balls to tell him in person that you didn’t want to go out with him.

All day you’d been acting extra flirty, laughing with your coworker over some stupid shit, the sound making Bakugou’s do little flips. He saw you accidentally drop a stack of papers - bend over to pick them up, perfect little ass sticking out just for him. You had ate your lunch at your desk, coincidentally Bakugou also randomly decided to do the same, watching you lick yogurt off your spoon. God, the way your tongue swirled around the spoon, licking up the creamy white substance had Bakugou popping a stiffy, had him chewing through his vegetables with a little more force than normal.

After lunch you had given a quick stretch of your arms, letting your back curve just right and Bakugou wanted to swear as you let out a breathy little moan as you stretched out a sore muscle, no one else around to hear it but him.

Fuck.

Getting through the rest of the work day was hell, Bakugou remaining seated at his desk so he wouldn’t have to be bothered with trying to hide his boner when he stood up. He had to watch you welcome your coworkers back from lunch, smile at one of them, let out a stupid little giggle at some stupid shit one of the fucking stupid little employees said.

He tried to put you out of his mind, focus back on his work. He was managing to do it pretty well actually, until his bladder got the best of him and he had to make a trip to the bathroom. Luckily by then his boner had gone down.

There weren’t many people on this floor, no need for separate bathrooms - just one single room, unisex.

Bakugou knocked on the door waiting barely a second before pulling it open, almost blowing up the damn thing as someone practically fell onto him.

“Sorry! I was just opening the door and I didn’t hear you knock…” You trailed off as you realized who was attached to the arms steadying you.

Bakugou glared at you, not listening. He was focused more on the fact that your breasts were squished up against his chest,  could feel your rapid heartbeat, was so close that he could see the bright little specks of color in your eyes as you gazed up at him with a shocked expression.

With a flurry of movement, you pushed yourself away from your boss, stumbled backwards, and promptly fell flat on your ass.

Now normally, Bakugou would burst out laughing, or maybe sneer and goad you about being clumsy and dumb, but not now. 

Not when he had caught a glimpse up your skirt as you fell away from him.

HIs heart was beating so fast in his chest, Bakugou didn’t even register your quick “So sorry sir!” as you scrambled to your feet, hurriedly trying to straighten out your clothes. He could only stare at you, try to control his breathing, stop himself from jumping you right then and there. 

Were you serious? Teasing him like this, leading him on, being an absolute slut with no remorse? He could barely believe you. As you dashed past him, cheeks flaming, Bakugou watched you go, a plan forming in his head.

He was going to teach you a lesson.

——

Bakugou waited until the end of the work day, 4:55, before exiting his office and stomping over to your desk.

“Hey, I need you in my office in twenty minutes.”

You looked up at him, confused, brow furrowed. “Bakugou-san, it’s almost five.” 

Bakugou could care less, sneering. “And? I need you to stay later. You and I are gonna have a little discussion about your compliance with company rules about work attire.” You turned bright red, glancing quickly down at your outfit. “Of course, I can talk to you now if you’d like, out where all your coworkers can hear me tearing you a new one. …Your choice.”

Glaring up at him, you shook your head, spitting out “I’ll see you in twenty minutes Bakugou-san.”

He smirked as he turned away from you, swaggering back into his office. The man liked your little spark of defiance, the stubbornness hiding deep down. 

 The two of you would be having a lot of fun in a little while.

There wasn’t much more for him to do except wait, scroll through his phone, boots knocked up on his desk, leaning back in his office chair, hand behind his head. It was almost amusing, watching you say goodbye to your coworkers as they left, pretending to straighten your desk and finish up whatever you had been working on.

Ten minutes passed, Bakugou watching you squirm out of the corner of his eye as each subsequent “goodbye” of your peers left you more secluded with your boss. 

Twenty minutes passed and you got up, straightening out your skirt before coming to knock loudly at his office door, pushing it open before he could acknowledge your presence. He raised an eyebrow at the subtle show of disrespect - maybe you knew what game he was playing, were trying to rile him up even more? Every little play of yours made his blood burn hotter.

You sat down in the chair across his desk, folding your hands in your lap, tucking your feet to the side - the very picture of professional employee. Bakugou kicked his boots off his desk, leaning forward over his desk.

He didn’t say anything, just watched you, narrowing his eyes as you lifted your chin, staring straight back at him. 

“If you had me stay late just so you could try to intimidate me, that’s disappointing.“  Bakugou shrugged at you, and you almost snorted before continuing. “I’m curious as to why I’m here - my work attire is always appropriate, I complete my work on time, there’s no reason for complaints. What am I not doing for you? I’m a good employee.”

“Well, for starters-“ Bakugou stood up, rolling his neck, relishing in the subsequent pops from his bones releasing stress. “You could stop always being such a fuckin’ tease.”

The look of confusion on your face was priceless.

“It’d be nice if we could get this game over with too - much as I like playing, I wanna get to the part where my cock is down your throat.”

Mouth dropped open in shock, you quickly snapped it shut, a blush rising on your cheeks. “What game? This is inappropriate Bakugou-san-“

“What game?” Bakugou scoffed. “This little game of cat-and-mouse. Damn, didn’t take you as the dense type.  Are you just trying to get me to punish you? You’d like that, wouldn’t you - little slut.”

Bakugou knew you weren’t playing a game with him, knew that your teasing was unintentional. But your obliviousness made him hard, and it was fun watching you rocket to your feet, indignant at his words.  Before you could even get a response out, Bakugou spoke again, starting to walk around his desk towards you.

“Seriously, don’t act fucking stupid.  If you want me to spank you so damn bad, all you gotta do is ask.”

He held out his hands, as if it was ridiculous that he had to tell you this. The blond could tell you were starting to get what was about to happen, eyes flickering down to the steadily-growing bulge in Bakugou’s pants. He could see the wheels turning in your head, the reasons he wanted to talk to you after everyone had left for the day, why he had been such a creep these past few weeks. 

You bolted.

Heels clicking against the floor, only able to take short steps in your pencil skirt, brain blank with fear. 

This was exactly how Bakugou had wanted this to go.

He wanted to chase you down, pin you despite how you struggle, and fuck you like an animal. 

It was easy for him to cut you off from the elevator, leaping over desks and sliding in front of the doors before you could reach them. With a frustrated cry, you whirled on your heel, dashed towards the stairwell. Bakugou beat you there too, lunging at your form and pushing you to the side before you could open the door. 

You stumbled, a heel coming off in the process. You shucked off the other shoe, taking a second to throw it at your boss. Bakugou laughed as he dodged the strong throw, your heel thudding uselessly against the wall behind him.

“Keep running bitch, you won’t get far - there’s no where to go.” He taunted.

You barely waited a moment before taking off across the office floor again, able to go faster without difficult shoes. You were heading back towards Bakugou’s office, the man realized. A smart move - the door locked, there was a phone you could use to call for help. Too bad you wouldn’t even reach the door.

The pro-hero grabbed your shoulder, pulled to whip you around to face him, making you stumble backwards. Without missing a beat, he slapped you across the face, palm burning. That wasn’t part of the plan, but Bakugou was worked up, running on adrenaline and emotions. Your head whipped to the side from the force of the slap, shocked. 

Taking advantage of your sudden stillness, Bakugou grabbed your waist, lifted you up and into his arms. Your arms were flailing now, trying to punch and hit and scratch but even with your strength you were barely a nuisance to the pro-hero.

Here’s the part that he had trouble with - where was the best place to bend you over? Your desk? Should he shove you to the ground and rip off your skirt? Up against the wall where he could thrust up into you with wild abandon?

On his own desk?

That sounded good.

The man marched to his office, kicked open the door and then kicked it shut, wincing when you landed a solid kick to his knee that twisted the joint a bit too far to the left. “Goddamn, you still gotta lot of energy? That’s gonna change, I’m gonna fuck you until you pass the fuck out.”

You shrieked at his admission, doubling your efforts to try to get the man to loosen his hold on you. Bakugou dropped you onto his desk so you were sitting upright, wrenched your thighs apart, stood between them as he wrapped a hand in your hair and pulled your neck back as he pushed himself flush against your body.

“Mm, you feel real damn good. Like the way you struggle ’n shit - rubs just right over my dick. Feel how big I am? I’m gonna fuck you open with it.”

He could hear your choked whine, still too proud to beg. No, you were too stubborn and proud to beg and plead right away. Bakugou knew you would after he broke you down though, had you drooling over his desk. 

The man used this moment to bite at your neck, relishing your gasp as he bite down roughly on the side, before quickly sucking over the red indentions of his teeth. Your hands were on him, one wrapped around the wrist of the hand wrapped in your hair, the other hand pushing against his chest as if that was going to make him go away or some shit.

His hand not wrapped in your hair fisted into your shirt, uncaring of the fabric as he flexed his arm, literally tore it off your upper half. Bakugou didn’t have the patience to take it off properly; He had waited too long for this, he was almost lightheaded with how much blood was rushing through his dick right now.

You were wearing a simple bra, nothing fancy - which was good, cause Bakugou ripped that off too, leaving you bare from the waist up. He was breathing heavily, panting as he quickly glanced at your body, taking in your soft skin, the rise and fall of your chest as you squirmed and whined and tried to escape from his grip. He liked the way you leaned your upper half away from him, following the hand pulling your hair so it wouldn’t pull your strands, subsequently pushing your lower half against your boss.

The blond groped roughly at your tits, giving quick little slaps to each one to watch them jiggle. 

“You have been such a fucking tease, you know that? Wearing these tight outfits, little shirts that don’t even cover your tits. Every time you bend down I can see right down ‘em,  see what the tops of your tits look like.” With a grunt, Bakugou bent his head, biting roughly at the top of your chest. “Makes me wanna fuck your tits, spit all over ‘em until they’re dripping, make you hold ‘em together around my dick. God, that’d be hot.”

He let go of your hair, hands falling to your waist to pull you closer so he could grind his bulge between your legs. With him not pulling your head back, you could focus on what he was doing, fight back.

Bakugou felt the burning pain on his cheek, then heard the sound, then registered that you had just slapped him. Fucking bitch.  With a growl, Bakugou grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks painfully in-between his fingers, bringing your face forward so he could press his forehead against yours.

“Try that shit again, see what happens. I can assure you it won’t be fuckin’ pretty. I don’t mind, but you probably would.”  He threatened. Your eyes shined, not wet with tears, still sparking with the fire of defiance. 

Bakugou wanted that spark. Did he want to extinguish it? Fan it into a blazing fire? He didn’t know, he just wanted. 

He glanced at your lips quickly, instinctively licking his own before making eye contact again. He couldn’t resist - didn’t want to. Bakugou surged forward, capturing your lips with his own, immediately biting and growling into your mouth, using the hand on your waist to move you against himself, humping into your clothed pussy.

When he pulled away, you were gasping, a string of saliva dripping down your chin. 

The blond gripped at his throbbing cock through his pants, groaning.  His hands moved to your skirt while pulling you to your feet, clumsily fiddling with the zipper in the back, trying to tug it down with one hand while the other kneaded into your chest.

With how you were positioned, it’s no surprise when he felt you bite down onto the side of his neck.

Bakugou laughed, tapering off into a moan as the pain bloomed in his neck.

Fuck, that felt good. He didn’t mind you biting at him, even if you were doing it to try and get away from him, and not out of lust.

Finally beating the zipper on your skirt, Bakugou stripped off the garment, whistling when you were revealed to him, no panties covering your sex. There you stood, nothing but smooth, sheer panty-hose covering your legs.

Bakugou flipped you around, shoved your face into his desk. He needed to be inside you now, he was done with games, done with the teasing, done with the dirty talk. 

You were bent at the waist, ass up in the air. The blond quickly undid his pants, pulling down his boxers just so his dick could be pulled out. There was already precum beading at the tip, and Bakugou hissed as he gave his member a quick stroke. Letting go of his cock, the man took hold of your panty-hose, right at the crotch, smirking as you wiggled around, yelling profanities.

Damn, you really were perfect for him.

The panty-hose ripped easily, a large hole that exposed your cunt, the barest hint of wetness in between your folds.  The blond didn’t want to wait to prep you, simply spat into his hand, gave his cock a quick stroke to cover it in his saliva, then lined himself up, cock nudging at your pussy.

“Relax your fucking hole bitch, this’ll hurt less.” He paused, surprising himself. Usually he wasn’t so considerate. “Or not, again, your choice.”

And with a snicker, the man began slowly pushing in, grunting as he was immediately met with tight resistance. But Bakugou wasn’t a quitter, and what he wanted, he got.

It took several minutes - minutes of you beginning to cry, beg for him to stop, shrieking at each new inch that sunk into you. Bakugou on the other hand had his head thrown back, calloused hands gripping your hips tightly to prevent you from moving anywhere but back and further onto his cock.

And then he was bottomed out, balls pressed against the top of your pussy, the pressure teasing your clit.

“Jesus Christ, You’re such a damn tease, but fuck, this pussy’s worth the work.”

You squirmed, before stilling as you gasped, able to physically /feel/ your boss’s cock twitching inside of you.  

Bakugou didn’t waste any time getting to work.

“You have been riling me up every damn week. I fucking hate you and you’re slutty little body, making me all hot n shit- haven’t been able to focus on anything. Stupid bitch.”

He was thrusting into you, pushing you across the desk before pulling you back onto his cock.

“Bet this is what you wanted the whole time. It’s why you brushed me off, huh? Ignored me like that? You just wanted me to hold you down and take what I fuckin’ want.”

Deep down, Bakugou knew that wasn’t true. It was clear by the way you struggled, your pathetic cries,  you whimpering “No, no I’ll rip your fucking throat out!” On each thrust. But even deeper down, Bakugou didn’t care whether you wanted this or not.

He did, and that’s what mattered.

His abs were clenching, pleasure shooting through his gut as you tightened around his cock, practically milking him. The suction was heavenly, made him groan, made him relax down against your body, sprawling to cover your back. 

Like this, Bakugou let his arms rest over your shoulders, his hands grabbing the other side of the desk. Your hips were trapped against his, pinned to the desk. There was no where for you to go, you could barely breathe with the man’s weight on you.

But it let Bakugou hammer into you like a stallion.

You whined as his speed increased, aided by his grip on the desk, his hips working furiously, skin loudly slapping against skin. 

With a growl, Bakugou buried his face in between your shoulder blades, mouthing roughly at the skin there, panting and growling and groaning like an animal as he fucked you.

Fuck, he was close, fuck.

With one last thrust, his balls tightened up, his dick jumping. He quickly pulled out, immediately reaching his hand down so he could fuck into his fist, and within seconds the man was cumming over your back.

Fuck, that felt fucking amazing.

When he was able to think clearly again, actually bring air into his lungs, Bakugou looked down at you, laying limp against his desk. There was a shine of wetness between your thighs, your pussy glistening and clenching around nothing.

“Aw, poor little tease wants to cum?”

He could tease too, giving your ass a quick, light slap. With an embarrassed shudder, you nodded imperceptibly.  Bakugou chuckled, bringing his fingers down to the puffy little nub nestled at the top of your pussy.  “If you want me to make you cum, you gotta say so. Don’t try and tell me you aren’t turned on’ you’re a shitty-ass liar.”

You trembled, before managing to spit out “Make me cum.” Bakugou shuddered, loving the hate filling your voice, the emotion. You sounded like you wanted to kill him, strangle him with your bare hands, and yet you were still begging for him to make you cum. How pathetic.

“Mm, too damn bad-“ Bakugou pulled his fingers away from your cunt, slapping your ass again, a little harsher this time. “Maybe next time I’ll let you cum. Teasing sluts don’t get to have shit, gotta earn it first.”

Maybe next time he’d fuck your throat.

[gusu-emilu]

Ship: Wei Wuxian / Wen Ning

Summary: Wei Wuxian gives Wen Ning a heartbeat, but not in the way either of them expected.

Rated T, No Warnings Apply

POV Wen Ning, Burial Mounds Settlement Days, references to WWX's poor health, First Kiss, Pining, Cuddling, Presumably Unrequited Love, or more accurately: whatever these two have going on, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, and the inherent homoeroticism of necromancy

Ch. 1/2, 6k, read on AO3 above or on Tumblr below

Wen Ning has always known that Wei Wuxian is not someone to hesitate.

The moment Wen Ning enters the Demon Subdue Palace after packing up the last sack of turnips, Wei Wuxian grabs his wrist.

“Come look!” He tugs Wen Ning deeper into the cave, slender fingers wrapped around Wen Ning’s wrist. He grins at Wen Ning over his shoulder. “I’ve made some more demonic devices, probably my best batch yet. I’d like to see the impersonators down in the town copy these!”

Wen Ning steadies his balance, not fully recovered from Wei Wuxian suddenly whisking him away.

Wei Wuxian has never hesitated to touch him. Wen Ning still isn’t quite used to it, having grown up in a family of doctors whose every touch felt calculated, and among clansmen more focused on war and strength than friendship. Clansmen who rarely respected him, never mind showed him affection.

Even now, he exists in a constant state of volatility due to his outbursts of resentful energy. Every family member in the Burial Mounds is careful around him, even A-Yuan at times.

But not Wei Wuxian.

Wei Wuxian is entirely different. Has always been different.

The first time they spoke, Wei Wuxian had already been comfortable with casual touch. Wei Wuxian hadn’t hesitated to lay hands on him to adjust his archery posture—steady hands he can still imagine on his upper arm and around the side of his ribs, friendly pressure like a heavy quilt, as Wei Wuxian comforted and praised him.

Then the war began, and Wei Wuxian choked him in Lotus Pier—furious, merciless hands like paws of a frightened animal. Wei Wuxian hadn’t hesitated then, either. He would’ve fully choked Wen Ning had he not held back enough to let him speak.

Then the war ended. Now Wei Wuxian uses him as an armrest, fixes his hair, arranges talismans on him, even once tried to pick him up and carry him as a joke. (He'd been a bit too weak to manage it for long. Wen Ning hadn’t thought that part was funny.) Now he drags Wen Ning around by the hand, all without hesitation.

Had Wei Wuxian hesitated before raising him from the dead?

Wen Ning isn’t sure which answer would comfort him.

“Take a look at this one,” Wei Wuxian says as he places a stone tablet in Wen Ning’s hand. A faint black cloud winds around the tablet, the smoke’s path tracing the red fulu writings carved into its surface. “Still pretty weak, but I’m getting closer to replicating yin iron with just regular stone.”

Wen Ning glances back and forth between the tablet and Wei Wuxian’s tired but enthusiastic smile. His eyes are bright with joy, but dark circles frame them. He hasn’t eaten much in the past few days, instead focusing relentlessly on his experiments, despite needing to save energy to heal the stab wound from Jiang Wanyin.

But Wen Ning still hasn’t figured out how to make him rest. Maybe admiring the new batch of demonic devices will help calm his inventive frenzy.

He nods, giving a small smile at Wei Wuxian. “That’s good.”

“Weak yin iron will be much easier to use. Better for small applications here and there, less dangerous…” Wei Wuxian squats by the scattered piles of demonic cultivation tools and notes, rummaging through to find another invention, the tablet already forgotten.

The black cloud around the tablet continues to swirl, small wisps seeping into Wen Ning’s skin. The tablet feels more like a block of dust than like stone, but despite his dulled senses, he notices…something else. A second sensation.

A throb.

“Wei-gongzi?”

“Yeah?” Wei Wuxian says, squinting at a page of especially messy notes.

“Does…does this have a pulse?” The stone continues to throb weakly, more of a resonance than a physical sensation, its aura cold like resentful energy.

Wei Wuxian looks up from the papers, one eyebrow raised. “It’s still doing that?” He stands and takes the tablet, examines it. “Hm. This might be good! I’ll have to find out what flow pattern of resentful energy caused this.”

Wen Ning closes his hand. Strangely, he wishes for the tablet to still be pulsing against his palm. It had felt kind of pleasant, if disturbing. “Resentful energy can create a heartbeat?”

“Well, it’s not exactly a heartbeat. But yes, if channeled the right way.”

“…Does that mean I have one?” Behind his back to prevent Wei Wuxian from noticing, he presses three fingers to the inside of his wrist, where years ago Jiejie had taught him how to read the flow of his blood. A black vein of resentful energy now covers those lifeless pulse points. “I’ve never felt it.”

Wei Wuxian turns the tablet between his hands thoughtfully. “No…you don’t have a heartbeat.” Then he grins, one of those sly grins that crosses his handsome face slowly, as if an idea has rushed into him so quickly that he needs to pace his smile just to contain it. Wen Ning doesn’t like those grins, because they make something flutter inside him.

“At least, not yet!” Wei Wuxian adds. “Do you want one? I could figure something out—”

“No, it’s okay. I’m fine without one.” The last thing Wei Wuxian needs is another project to stay up all night for—least of all an unnecessary project that Wen Ning requested by accident. Wei Wuxian has done enough for him already.

“I’m serious!” Wei Wuxian says. “It shouldn’t be too hard. I can test it right now.” He trails a finger over the blood-red writing on the tablet and mutters a few words under his breath. The black smoke around it thickens. “Just something temporary, to see if the idea works.” He steps closer.

Nervousness immediately jolts through Wen Ning. It’s unfortunate that death has muted the nerve endings in Wen Ning’s skin but has done nothing to quiet his anxious mind, which is always at both its most overactive and sluggish around Wei Wuxian.

Wen Ning watches the tablet’s red markings begin to glow, watches Wei Wuxian’s expression harden to a chiseled concentration.

“Come here,” Wei Wuxian says.

If Wei Wuxian’s hunch works, Wei Wuxian will ignore his health until he finishes developing the method to give Wen Ning a permanent heartbeat. If it fails, Wei Wuxian will still ignore his health, this time trying until he finds a different method.

It’s best to not let him try. To give him a firm “no.”

But Wen Ning has never been good at those. Especially when it comes to Wei Wuxian.

He has also never been good at lying to Wei Wuxian. Although he must do so for the sake of Wei Wuxian’s health, it’s hard to admit that he doesn’t miss his heartbeat.

He misses many small details of his body. Jiejie had taught him the ways of Dafan Wen medicine, made him attuned to the evidence of life in himself. He knows how fast his heart rate is supposed to be while lying in bed, knows which pressure points she once worked at to calm his anxiety, knows the irregularities of the breaths he no longer takes.

He used to like his heartbeat, his breath, their soothing rhythm as he fell asleep. It was comforting to understand that much about himself, to follow this evidence of life, when in childhood a piece of his soul had been snatched and left the rest of him a puzzle.

Now the lack of this evidence of life feels like a testimony against him.

Wei Wuxian could return some illusion of life to him. Would be happy to do so.

Selfishly, Wen Ning wants him to try. Being a walking experiment has its unsettling moments—more accurately, a constant hum of discomfort—but there is something morbidly enchanting about letting Wei Wuxian mold him into whatever he envisions. Into the magnum opus of a genius.

An even more selfish part of him wants to beg Wei Wuxian to try, because how symbolic would it be for Wei Wuxian to restore his heart, of all things…

“Wen Ning?” Wei Wuxian asks softly.

“Okay,” he answers, and instantly regrets it.

Wei Wuxian smiles again, this time the smile he saves for when he is about to tinker with the Ghost General. Wen Ning has learned all of his smiles by now, and he still doesn’t believe that there is one specially for him. But Wei Wuxian gives him that reassuring nod, the warm curve of his lips, the eager yet slightly rueful glint in his eyes, and Wen Ning can only recall seeing that expression the previous times Wei Wuxian rewrote pieces of him.

Wei Wuxian explains exactly what he’s going to do and how the resentful energy will flow. Wen Ning nods, and Wei Wuxian rests a hand on Wen Ning’s chest—casually, moving without hesitation, like always. “It won’t actually restart your heart. Just give the illusion of a pulse for a few minutes.” He furrows his brow as his focus intensifies. “That is, if it works.”

The feeling of Wei Wuxian’s hand on the center of his chest is stabilizing, yet it sets Wen Ning’s mind into disarray, despite how many times he has felt this before.

Wei Wuxian closes his eyes, preparing to reroute the resentful energy inside Wen Ning.

A cool stream of energy enters Wen Ning. Growing colder, gushing rapidly—

Freezing—

Then over almost instantly.

Wei Wuxian opens his eyes. “Feel any different?”

Wen Ning feels a bit dizzy, which is new. He hasn’t experienced vertigo since becoming a fierce corpse. But that fades quickly, and soon he is left with only the feeling of thick fabric pressing against his chest where Wei Wuxian’s hand rests.

He shakes his head. “Do…do you feel anything?”

Wei Wuxian shifts his hand, presses harder against Wen Ning’s chest. Waits, then sticks three fingers in the groove of Wen Ning’s neck, and that feels nice. Wen Ning almost wants to hold his hand there—

“No. I guess it didn’t work.” Wei Wuxian sounds much more tired than before. He removes his hand.

“That’s okay. I don’t need a heartbeat.”

“You want one though, yeah?” Wei Wuxian begins sifting through the inventions scattered across the cave, perhaps looking for another device, perhaps just hunting for kindling to spark an idea.

Wen Ning had been too selfish by agreeing to this. Who knows how long Wei Wuxian will research this now?

“I don’t want you to start another project,” Wen Ning says, and the faint thread of anger in his voice is stronger than he intended, even though that anger is mostly directed at himself. It's been harder to control his emotions since resentful energy began feeding them.

Wei Wuxian looks up, startled. Then he grins and gives a small laugh. “Are you turning into your jiejie now? Bossing me around…”

The joke only strengthens Wen Ning’s resolve. It reminds him that he can invoke Jiejie’s authoritativeness. He has never been good at following in his sister’s footsteps, but calling upon her immovability is almost as effective at steeling him as resentful energy. “You should sleep or come help us outside instead of always working in here.”

Wei Wuxian rubs his eyes. “I know, I know. You’ve all told me many times.” He seems to regret the slight bite in his tone. He tends to snap once in a while, the effect of stress lashing out from behind his mask, but it always dissolves as quickly as it appears.

“I’ll listen to you,” Wei Wuxian says, gently this time. Wen Ning feels a wave of relief. But then Wei Wuxian smirks and adds, “For now. I really do have some theories I want to test.”

“But—Wei-gongzi—”

Wei Wuxian rises to his feet and walks over to him. Stands and looks at him for a while, then says, almost murmurs, “I have enough projects for myself.” He tucks a strand of hair behind Wen Ning’s ear, and Wen Ning nearly melts. “Let me do something that’ll make you happy.”

This is bad. Very bad.

Wei Wuxian isn’t even telling the truth. His projects are all for the protection of Wen Ning’s family, not for himself. But the fond touch, combined with the sweetness in Wei Wuxian’s voice, is already enough to make Wen Ning bend.

He would much rather take care of Wei Wuxian than be taken care of. But if he weren’t worried about being a bother, he would tangle his hair just for Wei Wuxian to run his fingers through it, to twirl and comb and braid it the way he unravels and reorders the resentful energy inside Wen Ning.

“You really don’t need to. Getting a heartbeat was just an idea,” Wen Ning mumbles.

“And a good idea! We all need more comforts around here, don’t we?” Wei Wuxian nestles three fingers in the groove of Wen Ning’s neck to search for a pulse again, his brow knit in thought. Despite himself, Wen Ning can’t help but be glad that he can feel that touch a second time.

When Wei Wuxian experiments on him, the tugs and surges of resentful energy don’t exactly feel good. It’s like ice cracking under his skin, leaving shards that poke out of him. Or like the bony hand of a skeleton yanking at his insides, ripping him apart and rattling the pieces around.

The pain and discomfort frighten him. Remind him of what Wei Wuxian is capable of. What Wen Ning is capable of.

Yet he finds enjoyment in the fear, in the icy fingers of resentful energy, because those are the shadows of Wei Wuxian’s hands on him, reshaping him.

And before Wei Wuxian experiments on him…that feels too good. The doting—almost loving—attention, the careful examination, mumbled words, soft touches…

Wei Wuxian pulls his hand away and brings it to his own throat. His glance darts around the cave as he seems to calculate something in his mind.

Then he grabs Wen Ning’s hand and presses Wen Ning’s fingers into his neck. The sensation comes delayed, but Wen Ning feels it.

A pulse. Wei Wuxian’s pulse.

Wei Wuxian continues looking around the cave and thinking, as if this is just another ordinary step in a routine. But to Wen Ning, this is—this is—have they ever done something this intimate? How can Wei Wuxian let him feel the rhythm of his pulse, of his life force, and act like it’s nothing?

Somehow that makes it even more intimate, that Wei Wuxian doesn’t seem to mind…

Wen Ning counts the beats to himself.

Too slow. Not by much, but Wei Wuxian’s heart rate is too slow for his age, his size.

Wen Ning would make a mental note to tell Jiejie, but he knows she’s already aware. Wei Wuxian’s health has been deteriorating since he stepped back into the Burial Mounds.

“Wei-gongzi?”

“Mn?”

“I…I have a different idea.”

Wei Wuxian lifts Wen Ning’s hand from his neck, but doesn’t let go. He smiles. “What’s that?”

“You can just give me the tablet.” Wen Ning looks down at the slab of stone, thin black wisps of smoke swirling around it. “I can feel its heartbeat.”

“You don’t want your own?”

He shakes his head.

Wei Wuxian playfully taps the back of Wen Ning’s hand a few times. Four times, to be exact. Wen Ning can’t help counting. “That heartbeat isn’t very human, though.”

Neither am I, Wen Ning wants to say, but he knows Wei Wuxian will scold him if he does. “It would be more than enough,” he says instead.

“You’re going to make the Yiling Laozu feel like a fraud if you let him give you scraps and call it ‘more than enough.’” He sighs and glances down at the tablet. “But you can take it until I come up with something better.”

“Then…is there something that you don’t think is a scrap?”

Wei Wuxian brings Wen Ning’s fingers to his neck again, and the warm pulse hums through his fingertips. “Well, there’s my heartbeat.” He winks. “I’d still call that a scrap, though.”

“No it isn’t,” Wen Ning blurts.

Wei Wuxian raises his eyebrows. Then his expression turns thoughtful. “Would you rather keep feeling mine?”

Wen Ning doesn’t reply, but he knows his face says everything. Not even rigor mortis can hide the answer.

“Forget about that useless rock, then.” Wei Wuxian pats his chest. “I’ll be your heartbeat for now.”

Wen Ning is sure that if he still had blood flow, he would be flushed. Panicked energy begins to twitch inside him. “N-No, it’s okay—”

“You don’t want my finest craftsmanship, and you don’t want my scraps! What am I going to do with you?”

“Nothing,” Wen Ning answers quietly.

“Yes, something.” He takes Wen Ning’s hand and tugs him toward the slab of stone he uses as a bed. “Hm. How should we do this? Maybe—”

“Wei-gongzi,” Wen Ning says, exasperated. He likes that Wei Wuxian never hesitates, never slows down—it’s attractive, in a frustrating kind of way—but it often leaves Wen Ning in the dust with his mind still sputtering and struggling to function.

“Alright, sit here.” Wei Wuxian gestures toward the bed. “If you want to,” he adds.

It’s pointless to ask if Wen Ning wants to. He wonders if Wei Wuxian knows that he doesn’t need Chenqing or yin iron to make him do just about anything.

Suddenly filled with dread, a dread that he is going to like this too much, he steps forward and awkwardly sits down on the edge of the bed.

“Perfect,” Wei Wuxian murmurs. He taps Wen Ning’s knee twice. “Spread your legs.”

Now Wen Ning is certain that he would be flushed if he were alive. “S-S-Spr—what?”

“Hey.” He smirks and points a finger at Wen Ning. “Who taught you to have thoughts like that? Don’t worry. I just need you to make room for me.”

Wen Ning gets out some garbled form of “okay” and spreads his legs, creating enough space for Wei Wuxian to sit on one of his knees.

Which Wei Wuxian does.

Sit on his knee.

He also wraps his arms around Wen Ning’s neck and pulls him closer until his cheek touches Wei Wuxian’s chest.

“I can’t do all the work myself.” He cups Wen Ning’s chin. “You have to move too.”

Wen Ning swallows—by habit, since he doesn’t really need to do that anymore—and positions himself so his ear rests over Wei Wuxian’s heart. He can’t feel Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat through the robes, but the gentle sound of thum, thum seeps into him right away.

Warmth, too. A lot of warmth.

“Good?” Wei Wuxian hums.

Wen Ning makes a small noise of contentment in the back of his throat. He fiddles with his hands in his lap, trying and failing to find a good place for them that isn’t Wei Wuxian’s legs. “I hear it.”

“Only hear it?”

He opens his mouth to object, but he knows that Wei Wuxian will spot the lie before it leaves his lips.

Wei Wuxian opens the collar of his dark outer robes and lets Wen Ning rest his head on the thin red inner garment.

Even warmer. Softer.

He can feel Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat.

He hasn’t felt something like this since he was a child. It’s…not what he expects.

Jiejie had taught him how to take a person’s pulse. How to place three fingers on each wrist and find the six pulse positions corresponding to the meridians of the body, to identify the different types of pulses—their depth, width, length, strength. How sometimes the pulse feels like beads rolling along a table, while other times it feels like the crisp pluck of a guqin string, and so on, each revealing secrets of the body, guiding how to best heal the patient.

All that knowledge had once been exciting. It seems mundane, now.

The medical analogies for a pulse at the wrist, Wen Ning realizes, don’t work to describe what a heartbeat from the chest feels like when it’s pressed against his cheek.

It’s like wading in a warm stream, sunshine beating on him. The gentle lap of current, its smooth rhythm—thum, thum—like the most natural and simple form of expression.

Wen Ning wishes Jiejie had instead taught him how to decipher a person’s soul by listening to their heartbeat, because with this strange, steady language reverberating in his ear, it almost seems possible.

“Now?” Wei Wuxian asks.

Wen Ning doesn’t make a sound this time.

He counts Wei Wuxian’s heartbeats and tries to guess how many fit into a minute. They remain like that, long after Wen Ning loses count, with Wei Wuxian’s warm body in his lap. They both relax, and Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat eventually fades into Wen Ning, like it’s his own.

His awareness returns when he notices Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat slowing even more. He pulls away, immediately missing the comforting solidness of Wei Wuxian’s chest, and looks up to see a calm, drowsy expression on Wei Wuxian’s face. His eyes are heavy-lidded and almost fully closed.

“We’ve been telling you,” Wen Ning says softly. “You don’t sleep enough.”

Wei Wuxian rubs his eyes. “You really are becoming bossy.”

“I just want you to take care of yourself.”

“You and your jiejie are like a pair of vultures. Circling me when I’m weak and picking at me!” He gives a wan smile and reaches around Wen Ning’s back to rub his shoulder. “But I appreciate that you care about me.”

Wen Ning absorbs the feeling of Wei Wuxian stroking his shoulder, the thrum of Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat still lingering in his ear. “I appreciate that you care about me, too,” he mumbles.

He’s not sure if Wei Wuxian hears, but figures he knows anyway.

* * *

The next day, Wei Wuxian lets Wen Ning listen again.

And the day after.

And the day after that.

It becomes a pattern, as reliable as the beat of Wei Wuxian’s heart. Wei Wuxian is more likely to skip a meal or lose a night of sleep than he is to shirk his self-proclaimed “heartbeat duty,” and Wen Ning begins to wonder if Wei Wuxian likes it as much as he does.

Then Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli show up in Yiling.

That night, Wei Wuxian drinks like he wants to waterboard himself.

He forgets about heartbeat duty after that. Wen Ning lets him.

* * *

Two weeks later, Wen Ning brings a medicinal draught Jiejie prepared to the Demon Subdue Palace. The sun outside sank long ago, leaving behind deep blues and browns that bleed into the entrance of the cave. A single candle flickers on a rock shelf in the cave wall, illuminating the craggy wall and the floor strewn with bits of metal and wood and crumpled talismans.

Astoundingly, Wei Wuxian is not hunched in the corner scribbling away. He’s in bed scribbling away, his sleeves rolled up and his tied-back hair slightly disheveled the way they are when he digs in the mud pond for the lotus pods that won’t grow.

He hadn’t come out to farm since the day before. Wen Ning wonders if he’s fixed his sleeves or his hair since then.

Wen Ning steps over as quietly as he can manage with his clumsy feet and waits beside the bed, holding the draught with both hands and feeling a faint sensation of its warmth. “Wei-gongzi?”

Wei Wuxian presses the wooden end of his brush into the corner of his mouth. “Do you know how to make a Spirit-Attraction Flag attract only ghosts of a certain age?”

“…No.”

“Mn. I—wait—” He cuts off and draws what looks like disjointed pieces of an array scribbled in the margins around rejected brushstrokes.

Wen Ning lets him write for a while, then says, “My jiejie made this for you to drink.”

“And why,” Wei Wuxian asks without a pause in his writing, “is she spending resources on me instead of saving them for A-Yuan and the others?”

“You need medicine, too. Because your stab wound still hasn't healed, and—and Jiejie says your body still isn’t used to not having a gold—”

Wei Wuxian abruptly stops writing. Wen Ning clamps his mouth shut, and wishes he hadn’t said anything.

With a lack of pleasure that he fails to hide, Wei Wuxian scribbles a few more things, then stands up, slices a cut in his finger, and begins trailing red lines on a Spirit-Attraction Flag. “I’m going down the mountain to test this.” He looks over at Wen Ning with a softened expression and walks out of the cave.

Wen Ning doesn’t need him to say that it’s an invitation to follow. He always accompanies Wei Wuxian down the mountain. He’d rather Wei Wuxian sleep, but at least leaving the Burial Mounds always puts him in a better mood.

After they pass through the final protective array and the forest around the path begins to change from grim black leafless trees to green trees shaded blue by moonlight, Wei Wuxian seems to relax. But instead of testing the flag in the clearing where he usually does, he continues walking.

They reach the edge of the forest. A few clouds in the sky hide some of the stars, but the moon is out, a bright half of a silver coin. They pass the town from a distance, still close enough to see amber dots of light from the few lanterns lit at this time of night, but far enough that even Wen Ning’s sharp vision can’t discern clear shapes of the buildings. Wei Wuxian stares at the town once in a while, as if he can see something in the muddied blocks of light.

They enter a different patch of forest and stray just far enough inside for tree branches to reach across the sky again.

Wei Wuxian holds up the flag and examines it.

He lowers the flag to his side.

“Wei-gongzi,” Wen Ning says quietly.

“Yes?”

“Did you…”

He trails off when Wei Wuxian begins slowly rolling up the thin canvas. “I think I just wanted to go for a walk,” he says. “I’ll let the spirits rest today.” He sets the folded flag on a large rock and sits on the ground, his back against the stone, looking out at the plains and town from the recesses of the forest.

“I like walking with you,” Wen Ning says, and sits beside him.

Wei Wuxian usually buries his sorrow in his projects, in the crop fields, in his games with A-Yuan. This aimlessness is the closest glimpse Wen Ning sees of Wei Wuxian’s true state of mind. Wei Wuxian ensures that he is alone whenever he truly lets in his sorrow, but Wen Ning accompanies him during the times when he comes close. As if Wei Wuxian wants him to see—wants someone to see—but refuses to reveal everything.

No one else but Wen Ning has sat next to Wei Wuxian while he draws portraits for no particular reason (he never shows them to Wen Ning, but Wen Ning can guess whom he draws), no one else has slept across the cave from him while he mumbles in his sleep, no one else has wandered down the mountain at night with him.

Wen Ning doesn’t know if he should feel privileged or worried that Wei Wuxian lets him see this much.

He doesn’t think he deserves to know Wei Wuxian’s deepest thoughts, but he wants Wei Wuxian to pass more sorrow onto him, let him shoulder some of the pain. Wen Ning’s heart is dead, he can take it.

“Wen Ning,” Wei Wuxian says. He smooths his robes, adjusts his fitted sleeves. “I haven’t done heartbeat duty in a while, have I?”

“You don’t need to.”

“Maybe I want to.”

Wen Ning looks down at his knees, but Wei Wuxian scoots closer.

With their backs against the rock, Wei Wuxian hugs him in, rests his hand on the side of Wen Ning’s head, cradling him against his chest. Wen Ning tucks his arms away, trying not to touch Wei Wuxian, but Wei Wuxian takes one of his hands.

“It’s okay,” Wei Wuxian says.

Wen Ning waits a moment, wishing he had proper breath to steady himself, then carefully wraps his arms around Wei Wuxian, nestling close to his slender frame.

It feels different this time. Not because their position is different, or because Wuxian’s heartbeat is any faster or slower, stronger or weaker.

There is no purpose this time. It isn’t for Wen Ning to experience sensations more fully. It isn’t for Wei Wuxian to find comfort.

They are just two bodies cast aside from life, bodies that struggled to catch each other during their fall until they landed in each other’s embrace.

Holding Wei Wuxian feels as natural as his heartbeat, as inevitable as each thrum beneath where Wen Ning rests his head.

And just as fleeting.

Wei Wuxian is more alive than any person he knows, yet is wasting away more each day, having given up everything to protect the Dafan Wen.

And Wei Wuxian is not his. Only one thing ties them together: they have each made the other into a member of the living dead.

With whom did it start? Was it Wei Wuxian, who brought Wen Ning back as a fierce corpse, or was it Wen Ning, who held Wei Wuxian down as his core was removed? Or was it the world that did this to both of them?

But despite the thread of shared death that ties them together, Wei Wuxian could break that connection if he wanted to.

Wen Ning is bound to his family, bound to this unnatural body, bound to Chenqing's laments. He can never reenter the world.

But Wei Wuxian...

One day, Wei Wuxian may have the chance to belong in the world again. With his shidi and shijie, with Lan Wangji.

Wen Ning will always be banished to the margins of the world.

“How long are you going to live with us?” Wen Ning finds himself asking.

Leaves rustle quietly in the forest, clouds disappearing above their heads to reveal more stars against the dark liquid sky. An owl hoots questioningly far behind them.

“Until tomorrow,” Wei Wuxian says. “Ask me again tomorrow, and I’ll tell you again.”

“I can’t ask you that every day.”

“Then don’t ask me at all.” He strokes Wen Ning’s hair, over the back of his head and down his back. “I’m not leaving.”

Wei Wuxian continues playing with Wen Ning’s hair, running his fingers through it, stopping occasionally to work out a tangle. Not for the first time, Wen Ning wishes he could feel touch more strongly. He had dreamt of moments like these as a teenager, gentle caresses from Wei Wuxian, impossible moments. He hadn’t realized he would receive them one day after they had given up their lives for each other.

“When do you think we’ll get our next visitor?” Wei Wuxian asks. “Think I can make that Spirit-Attraction Flag into a Guest-Attraction Flag?” He chuckles. “We can hang it at the ridge. People will be drawn from miles to come talk to us. Tell Uncle Four to get lots of fruit wine ready." He fiddles with the sleeve of Wen Ning's robe. "I’ll have you test out the flag. Wear it like a cloak, and go walk around Yiling to see how many friends you make.”

“I can barely get anyone to buy turnips from me.”

“Change of plans, then! I’ll make a Customer-Attraction Flag, and we’ll finally be rich.”

Wen Ning smiles. “What are we going to buy once we’re rich?”

“Toys for A-Yuan.” Wei Wuxian rubs across Wen Ning’s shoulders, back and forth. “Every toy in Yiling.”

“We should buy every toy in Lanling, too.”

“That’ll need a lot more money. We’ll have to grow bigger turnips.”

“A giant one.”

“A single giant turnip?” Now there is real laughter in Wei Wuxian’s voice. “I’ll have to plant you as the seed to grow something big enough. Don’t tell your jiejie. Although she might figure it out when you disappear, and meanwhile a turnip the size of the Burial Mounds takes over Yiling.”

“I still won’t tell her.”

Wei Wuxian makes a low humming sound. “I can always count on you.”

Wen Ning melts more into Wei Wuxian’s embrace, surrounded by his warmth.

“Too bad that no matter who we bury in the lotus pond,” Wei Wuxian says with a sigh, “those plants still don’t want to sprout.” This time he doesn’t rub Wen Ning’s back or fiddle with him while he talks.

He’s never said something like that about the lotus crop without following it up with a confident proclamation—But when have I ever not achieved the impossible?, They’ll poke their heads out soon!, My lotus flowers will be the biggest you’ve seen, just wait!

He’s never left hanging the chance that the lotus crop might not grow.

Wen Ning waits for the cocky remark, but it doesn’t come. “They’ll sprout if you’re the one growing them,” Wen Ning suggests, filling in the declaration that Wei Wuxian missed.

“…Yeah.”

Wen Ning’s stomach sinks. He looks up. Wei Wuxian smiles at him and guides him to rest against his chest again.

“It’s only been two weeks. They might take a while,” Wen Ning says, his face nearly turned into Wei Wuxian’s robes.

“I’ll just cheat and make a Lotus-Attraction Flag.”

“I’ll help you.”

“Of course you will. You’ll also help me with the flag for attracting guests to marvel at the beauty of our lotus pond!”

Guests again.

Wen Ning knows that Hanguang-Jun had visited on the day his consciousness returned. Jiang Wanyin and Jiang Yanli had met with Wei Wuxian soon after. Both left marks on Wei Wuxian.

Is he thinking about them?

Wishing he had warmth of his own to give Wei Wuxian, Wen Ning hugs him tighter. He's not sure if they lower to the ground in one movement or slowly slide down, but eventually they lie on their sides, facing each other, arms tight around each other. Wei Wuxian’s heartbeat speaks, and Wen Ning listens.

I’m lonely, it whispers. I’m so lonely.

Who is there in the Burial Mounds for Wei Wuxian to feel the same affection toward as he feels about Hanguang-Jun? Or to provide the same comfort as the company of his siblings?

Everyone in the Burial Mounds has tried their best to provide the support of a new family for Wei Wuxian. He has even called them his family. But try as they might, how could the Dafan Wen replace his shidi and shijie?

The shidi and shijie Wen Ning helped Wei Wuxian save, only to steal him away from. He knows that it was Wei Wuxian’s choice to lead the Dafan Wen to the Burial Mounds and live with them, but would he have made that choice if he had never formed a relationship with Wen Ning and his sister? The thought makes guilt churn in his stomach.

“Wei-gongzi?”

Wei Wuxian runs his thumb in gentle circles over Wen Ning’s shoulder. “Yes?”

“Is that something you want?” He pulls away from Wei Wuxian’s chest to look up at him, though not quite into his eyes. “Guests?”

“Don’t take that all so seriously. If guests come, would they be as good of a drinking buddy as Uncle Four, or as good of a storyteller as Granny, or as energetic as A-Yuan? They couldn’t compete.”

“But you meant it,” Wen Ning says, surprised at the force in his own voice, quiet as it is. “I’ll help you bring guests here.”

Wei Wuxian smiles and brushes his thumb over Wen Ning’s cheek, the touch warm and soft like hushed words. “You’re already too good to me. Don’t worry about me.” He sighs and looks up at the sky. “Each of us will have things we want, but can’t have. It’s just part of living.”

Wen Ning, too, looks up at the star-studded sky through the dark silhouettes of trees. The full shapes of the constellations are broken up, but he can picture which stars are waiting behind the black hands of tree leaves.

As he follows the disjointed forms of the constellations, he decides that he will relieve Wei Wuxian’s burdens.

He is not sure at what moment he makes the decision, but it settles into his bones and becomes his purpose for the night.

Not just for the night. For as long as Wei Wuxian is by his side.

The day Wen Ning’s consciousness was restored, he had heard A-Yuan singing a song about walking the “single-log bridge.” Curious, Wen Ning had asked where A-Yuan learned the song.

“Xian-gege,” had been the answer. The song’s lyrics had been about Wei Wuxian walking alone into darkness.

Wen Ning will not let him walk alone.

If Wei Wuxian wants to walk the single-log bridge, Wen Ning will carry him across it.

“Will you tell me about them?” Wen Ning asks.

“About what?”

“The things you want, but can’t have.”

* * *

Thank you for reading! Next chapter is coming soon. If you enjoyed this fic, come visit me on AO3!

[grasshopperjay]

the cold wind of it all (18+)

pairing: jay halstead x reader

song: no questions asked - fleetwood mac

word count: 2.5k

summary: the reader is part of the intelligence unit, and jay doesn’t seem to like her very much. a heated conversation between the two leads to something unexpected, and then that leads to something even more unexpected.

warnings: swearing, angst, yelling, mentions of death, smut, unprotected sex, dom!jay

You don’t like Jay Halstead.

And Jay Halstead doesn’t like you.

At least you thought he didn’t.

“You didn’t play that the right way, you should have called it.” He stomps down into the locker room, getting in your face before you even have the chance to explain yourself.

“I did what I thought was right.” You say, slamming your locker door shut.

“We could have got something out of that guy if you’d have just ended it when you were supposed to, but now he’s dead.” 

“Yeah and what if I had called it then? I’d probably be dead, Kevin included. I’m pretty sure if everyone thought the same Voight would be down here with my badge, but he isn’t so drop it Jay.”

“No I’m not gonna drop it! I lost a CI!”

You’re so frustrated in the moment, and you have no verbal comebacks so you do the only thing you can think of, even though it’s totally offside. You’re doing it before you can even evaluate your actions, your hands landing solid on Jay’s chest with a half ass output of force to try and push him back. 

He looks back at you with wide eyes for a moment, and then responds with some force of his own. One hand latches onto your waist, pushing you back into the lockers, while the other grabs onto your chin, your eyes meeting for a split second before he’s kissing you. 

What the hell is happening?

It’s completely unexpected, and the shock of it all has you dead still in his hold. Jay tenses and pulls back, looking at you with a look that mirrors your own, utterly confused at what just happened. 

He backs away, hands held out at his side, and then he’s rushing out of the room.

The adrenaline pumping through you is making you to run, get out of there so you can stew over it, think it over and process, but you’re in the middle of a work day, a ruined work day because of Jay. How are you supposed to go up in the bull pen and act like everything is completely normal when he’s just gone and done that?

You take another five minutes to try and collect yourself before heading back up, tail between your legs. Jay doesn’t make eye contact, and you try not to either, barely paying attention to anything that Voight is saying until he’s barking out your name.

“Y/N,” Your head perks up, and Voight nods to the interrogation rooms, “You and Jay, head in. Try and get something out of him.”

Your stomach drops, and you can all but see the blood drain from your face. When you’re not out of you chair immediately, Voight furrows his brows at you. “Everything alright?” He asks, and you nod. “Then head in.”

You sigh and stand, following Jay in while he looks through the case file to avoid looking at you. You close the door behind you, and Jay starts. 

“Ben Compher,” He puts the file down on the table and you try to figure out how’s going on completely normal, like nothing happened. “How do you know him?” 

“I don’t.” The suspect shrugs.

You really shouldn’t be in here. Your head is not in this. And you don’t understand how Jay’s could be.

“Well we know you’re lying, cause Ben said he got the information about the deal from you. And now he’s dead because of it.”

Jay leans over the table and you should be focused on the suspect, or literally anything but what you’re actually focused on. Jay’s hands are spread on the table and all you can picture is how that same hand was holding your jaw earlier.

And what it could do to the rest of your body. 

You’re really not supposed to be thinking this way about one of your coworkers, especially not about Jay. Someone who has shown zero interest in you from day one, well until today that is.

He’s never had anything to say to you unless it’s been negative. Correcting you, or belittling you in front of the team like you’re a newbie cop. And now out of the blue he kisses you? It’s infuriating, and you should be mad, you should have slapped him, but instead you’re sitting here thinking about how his lips felt on yours, and how you wish he were bending you over that stupid table. 

And that's were you pull yourself out of the game. Turning and walking out of that interview room just as fast as you blew in. 

.....

You’re fresh out of the shower, in the kitchen making some tea in nothing but your underwear and a big t shirt. Ready to relax after the weirdest day, when it gets even weirder. 

There’s a hard knock at the door, and then your name is being called through the barrier. The voice all too familiar. 

You stalk to the door, already furious, opening it without even thinking twice about putting pants on. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“You made the wrong call today and you know it,” He’s barging into your apartment, determined. 

“Are you kidding me, Jay? Are you seriously here to lecture me right now?” 

“I just want to hear you admit it, tell me. Say it.”

“Say what?” 

“That you messed up! And then you walked out of that interview, what is wrong with you?!” 

“What is wrong with me? How about what’s wrong with you? Jay you kissed me completely out of the blue today! So I’m sorry if I wasn’t fully invested in that interrogation!”

He completely ignores everything you’ve just said, instead yelling back, “Admit it!”

“Okay whatever, yeah, I did. But I’m not doing this with you. I don’t wanna talk about this stupid fucking case anymore.” You dismiss. You really need to get away from him, cause if he gets too close you’re not sure what you’re gonna do. Ever since that kiss your mind has been in the gutter, and you’re not sure you trust yourself around him.

He stares blankly at you, like he wasn’t expecting you to say it. You can tell he was expecting more of a fight, he wanted it, but he’s not gonna get it.

“I’m done, Jay.” You try to turn away, but he grabs onto your arm, and that’s all it takes. This time it’s you who makes the move, all but lunging at him, and he responds just as eagerly, kissing you with fever. 

Apparently he’s been thinking about all the same things as you today, cause there’s no questions asked. 

He boosts you onto the counter, his hand coming up to grip your jaw, turning your head so his lips can slide down to your neck, and your hands fumble to grab onto something.

Your finger tips graze under his shirt, and his breath hitches. He kisses you one more time before pulling back to tug his shirt over his head, and the sound that leaves your mouth when you lay eyes on his bare chest is just about pornographic. He smirks, but before he can open his mouth you’re pulling him down to you. “Shut up,” You mutter, hands gripping onto his biceps while you kiss him. 

His hands slide up the tops of your thighs pushing up the t shirt until he reaches the waist band of your panties. He tugs them down your legs and your nails dig into the skin on his back. 

He grunts, gripping back onto your thighs with firm hands. “Easy, Y/N.” 

“What?” You smile, rubbing back over the raised skin on his shoulders, “Can’t handle it?” 

He lets out a breathy laugh and then he shakes his head, “Nah I can handle it,” His hands fall down to your right behind your calves, tugging you forward until you’re slipping off the counter. “Question is, can you?” 

You bite your lip, trying to hide your not so subtle grin while you lean into Jay. Your hands wandering down his chest to fumble with his belt. “Mhm,”

He smiles and then shakes his head, grabbing onto your wrists to tug them away. “Not here,” He flicks his head behind you and you step backwards, beckoning him to follow you.

You lead him to your bedroom and there’s barely anytime for you to turn around before he’s pushing you onto the bed. You try to scramble up to the headboard, but he’s catching your ankle before you can do anything, pulling you back down with a grin. 

“You sure about this?” He asks, but he knows the answer. He wouldn’t be hovering over you like this if he weren’t. 

“I’m sure.” You confirm, sighing while he kisses your neck. 

Jay resurfaces, his lips finding yours fast. His hands are just as quick as last time, they slide all the way up your torso, taking your shirt with them. You lift your arms so he can throw it to the side.

Jay’s lips land back on your neck again, biting gently at the skin. You arch your back, breasts pressing into his chest trying to get as close as possible. Your movements distract him and he pulls back, eyes trained directly on your chest covered by a barely there bralette.

“Fuck,” He whispers, sitting back fully to admire. 

You whine at the lack of contact, becoming impatient with his wandering gaze. “You’re so damn beautiful.” He sighs, ducking back down to press kisses down your neck. When he drags his teeth across the swell of your breast, you release a breathy moan and he laughs, his hand slipping underneath your back to get at the clasp. You bend your knee and push up, arching make it easier for him, but your thigh makes contact with the prominent bulge in his pants and he groans against your skin.

He undoes the clasp quickly, and you shrug off the straps, tossing the material to the side. His mouth is occupied immediately, and he sucks a nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around before placing gentle kisses around the swell of your breast. He wanders downward, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your stomach. You wiggle as he rubs his thumbs over your hipbones, looking up at you devilishly from his position. He licks a trail up beneath your belly button, then blows cold air on it, raising goosebumps. His name leaves your mouth along with a string of whines and you start to become a little more impatient.

“Easy,” He whispers. He’s purposely going slow, trying to torture you. You moan, bucking your hips ever so slightly.

Finally, Jay drags a finger up your slit, a smirk crossing his face immediately. “So wet for me baby,”

“Jay,” His name leaves your lips much louder, and much whinier than you intended, making him stop in his tracks. He looks up at you, an annoyingly smug but handsome smile on his features.

“Needy.” He says teasingly, his finger barely applying pressure to your cunt.

“I’m gonna do it myself if you don’t hurry the fuck up, Jay,” Your hand moves down but Jay catches your wrist firmly, pinning it down to the couch.

“That’s no fun.” His voice drops an octave and you squirm on the bed. 

“Oh my god,” You breath out. He keeps his bright eyes trained on you as he leans down to lick a stripe up your slit. You moan at the contact, finally getting some relief. His tongue swirls around your clit, sending your hands straight into his hair. You run your hands through his locks, tugging on the strands. 

His hands reach under you, grabbing a hand full of ass all while pulling you closer to his mouth. He lifts one of your legs over his shoulder, his tongue not stopping for a second. 

You’re writhing underneath him, your hands gripping onto anything they can find, his hair, the couch, his shoulders. You’re a mess.

And then he slips a finger into you, curling it up while he sucks hard on your clit, queuing a high pitched cry from you. Your sounds bring back that damn smirk, you can feel it against your skin.

He pushes another finger into you, tongue flicking over your clit. Your breathing is long past fast, you’re trying to catch it now because he’s continuously knocking the wind right out of you. He’s doing absolutely everything right and in the back of your mind you’re wondering how he learnt to do all this, but your main focus is on the obvious, his face buried in your cunt.

His fingers curl up and swipe your g spot, opening up to stretch you out, receiving a strangled moan from your throat. “Jay, I’m so close,” You cry, “Don’t stop!” You hold his head in place, and buck your hips up to grind onto his mouth. You’re probably suffocating him, but you really can’t be bothered to stop, and he doesn’t seem to be slowing down, so you’re assuming he’s okay with it.

One last movement of his fingers throws you over the edge, and your body shakes as your orgasm rocks through you. Jay’s fingers slow as you work through the euphoria, his lips staying away from your oversensitive clit.

He places a chaste kiss on your stomach before moving up to your lips. You taste yourself on his tongue as it slides into your mouth and you moan against his lips, your hand wandering down to cover his bulge.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last,” He curses, mouthing at your neck. “I need to be inside of you,”

You receive a sideways smirk as he pops the button on his jeans and pushes them down, underwear quick to follow. He strokes his hard cock and you swear your mouth starts to water. If he’d let you, you’d be on your knees so fast for him.

He hovers over you again, lining up with your entrance. You wrap your legs around his waist, running your hands up and down his shoulders. With a low grunt he pushes into you, you moan and watch as Jay’s features tighten, his eyes squeezing shut above you.

“Fuck, you’re so tight,” The pace starts slow, he speeds up gradually igniting a second wind in you. 

“Don’t stop,” You beg, pulling his face down so you can connect your lips.

A sharp thrust grazes your g spot, and you quite literally wail out. Your arms are moving frantically along his back, grabbing and scratching anywhere, while you squirm underneath him. Amidst your moving your leg slips out from under his, and Jay’s weight drops further onto you. He grunts, and his cock slips out, you whine high pitched and he chuckles, “You’re desperate, huh?”

Punching him in the arm would normally cross your mind but right now you’re not in the mood to argue, so you just nod. “Please, don’t stop,” Jay’s hand slips underneath your leg to push your thigh to your chest while he pressures into you again. Your back arches of the couch and Jay curses, “Stay fucking still,” His free hand comes up to sit at the base of your throat and you moan out.

“You want it?” He asks, railing into you again.

You nod your head weakly with the constriction of his hand, and his fingers tighten around you.

“Say it,” He spits out, teeth clenched.

The words fall out of your mouth almost automatically, “I want it so bad,”

“Good girl,” He mumbles the words and let’s go of your leg, his hand slipping down to where you’re connected. The pad of his middle finger presses directly onto your clit and you jerk up. His grip on your neck gets tighter again as he works his hips up, sending his tip slamming into your g spot, which queues another scream and sudden movement.

“Jesus, I’m gonna need to tie you up next time, quit fucking moving.” He growls.

Your pussy clenches around him when he says that and a deep groan is pushed out his throat before he chuckles, “Mm, you like that idea don’t you?”

You nod, eyes squeezing shut as you try and fail to bring your hips up to meet him. “You can do whatever you want,” The words slip out embarrassingly easy, and you turn your head so he can’t see the way your cheeks flush.

His head dips down so he can get his lips on your neck, letting out a breathy chuckle that you feel on your skin. “Oh baby I plan to,”

He bites the spot under your ear and you whine, your hands coming up to hold him against you.

He slides his finger up again to circle around your clit and you feel yourself getting higher and higher, unable to move under his weight. His every thrust radiating pleasure through your whole body while he keeps you pinned underneath him.

You turn your head, and whisper against his lips. He slides his tongue into your mouth, pinching your clit.

It’s sends you over the edge fast and hard, your vision going black for a moment while warmth spreads through your body. 

When you come to, Jay is wiping a warm towel over your stomach, grinning while you lift yourself onto your elbows. “Are you good?”

“I think so,” You say quietly, and then you’re blurting out probably what you’re both thinking, “What just happened?”

“I don’t know, but I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” He grins, walking around the side of the bed until he’s beside you. He reaches a hand out to stroke your hair and you hold onto his arm. “Need anything?”

You shake your head, tugging on him while he slides back into the bed, pulling the covers up and over the both of you. 

“We should, uh, definitely do this again...” Jay says, tugging you into his chest. 

“Absolutely.” You nod, “I’ll argue with you any day if this is what’s gonna come of it,”

[sessrin-eternity2]

Yashahime Second Act Teaser PV

Yashahime The Second Act is almost here and we have a wonderful yet mysterious new teaser? This is definitely showing some clips from the Second Act preview but we've got some new ones as well because I really don't recall seeing some of these clips in the first preview, so this is interesting. We have Towa here holding the tenseiga above her head while many demons are flying upwards... not sure how they got there... from what I'm thinking someone or something may had summons them possibly for Towa to absorb demon energy to the tenseiga or something. There is still no full confirmation that Towa will keep her father's blade, she may give it back to him or he'll request for her to return it to him since he may need it for another situation. We'll have to see what really happens. I do hope we get some interactions between Sesshomaru and his beloved daughters and hopefully his cinnamon roll niece, Moroha. I'll fangirl so hard if that happens.

Moroha looks like she's ready to take down a foe of some kind, it could be those demons or another rival has arrived to the scene. She looks quite frustrated here, and who could blame her? She's also still furious about Setsuna's unexpected death, they're all family after all. I wonder if she'll be getting new power upgrades like Towa and Setsuna. I hope her parents will be able to see her in action soon.

Setsuna is looking more and more like her father Sesshomaru, this is one of his signature expressions, the eyes, the mouth and the look, definitely Sesshomaru. It appears Towa has been either knocked out or blacked out from something, you can see her down on the ground just a little bit in the top frame of this set. Is Setsuna protecting Towa while she is down and out? I want to see more scenes like that. We've mainly seen Towa or Moroha protecting her the most, now it's time for Setsuna to help protect her big sis. Her new blade is so uniquely designed, I just love it to pieces.

Wow, Riku?! We can already see him here in his newly designed attire, and I love it! Not only he has new clothes, he also has a new earring accessory or possibly the same one and he has added an intriguing sword charm to it. I really admire the style of it... Hm, that's odd to have in the federal era though, unless they did make such charms in that time. We also see some ice or crystal debris flowing around... what happened here?! Did Riku obtain new skills or did he always have these? Is he breaking something? Just what is he doing? Can't wait to see how this unfolds.

What has happened to Kirinmaru?! I don't know why but he looks like he's in deep grief or in some kind of depression... Is he remembering something disturbing of his past? His past wife? His daughter Rion? Things his sister, Zero may had done? Toga perhaps? He looks pretty distraught, almost the way Sesshomaru has been looking lately. I wonder if Zero has messed with his memories... and I do often wonder was she the one involved in causing trouble in Kirinmaru and Rion's relationship as father and daughter. I really want to know what happened with them too. There's not much new with Rion but she seems to have a hand gesture of prayer or begging... She's very beautiful, I love her design, very cutesy.

Oh my flipping Mokomoko! Zero what have you done now?! The pure look of evil and hate in her eyes... who the heck is she even trying to burn in this house?! She's certainly talking and looking down at someone. There are so many theories of what could be going on in this scene...

①️ Many have pointed out that this is Lady Izayoi's mansion and Zero may had contributed in trying to kill her and baby Inuyasha on the same night Toga died. That's a big possibility because Zero can use puppets of herself, we saw that in episode 15 of Season 1. And she may had helped kill Toga? But there was two people in battle, Toga and Takemaru... wouldn't he had of interrupted Zero to stay out of their battle? Or did Takemaru die by Toga's hands immediately... and Toga was able to survive, tried to make his escape but Zero decided to take his life away due to pure jealousy... Oh that would be such a big fat shocking twist if she really was the one who really slaughtered Toga...! Think about how even more infuriated Sesshomaru would be with Zero, he'll have more reasons to kill her... But remember this too, Zero had her other demon markings when she found out about Toga's death and they faded away after making her wish. She don't have those markings in this scene at all.

②️ Could this be Zero on the night she may had of killed or tried to kill someone else? Like... Kirinmaru's Wife? (Don't know if we'll find out about his baby mama and such, plus we don't know if Kirinmaru got married or it was one of those one night stand sort of things.) Was it another character we have no idea about? A familiar character? Or is it Rion? Or worse... possibly Rin?! Girl! You better not be trying to burn Rin after you tied your sorry tail to her beautiful soul, get a life will ya?

③️ Could this be Sesshomaru and Rin's mansion Zero is burning and she trapped Rin inside while doing so? I know there's a lot of us who really want to believe this is the mansion of Sessrin and there's some of us who really don't wanna get clowned but this is a possibility it could be true... because not so long ago Sato gave us some new artworks of Sesshomaru and Rin... and they were in a house together, it's very rare to see them in such places. I often wonder if Sato is telling us stories about Sessrin's life before Rin got into the tree through their art. The artworks they released came before the new preview and not so long ago either... could this house been a spoiler? What if this house or mansion could of been a safe place before the fire in the forest? Did you notice that the walls are almost the same as the ones from Sato's picture? Let's all wait and see if it comes together as these things.

I know for sure this scene of Sesshomaru slashing a butterfly in half has a lot of people worried and pondering about what is going on in this clip... Yes, it is just like the purple dream butterfly, they look the exact same but are colored differently. Not sure if this is the present or just a flashback. This scene actually makes you wonder are there two dream butterflies? One is good and one is evil? The purple could mean Kirinmaru's butterfly or the green one could mean Rion? Her aura is the same color as the green butterfly... however this could be just a spirit like a Japanese user mentioned on their Twitter. Is it a puppet? Is it a ghost? Is this dream butterfly dangerous and has other meanings to it that would cause Sesshomaru to slash it in half? Was it going after Rin? The girls? Inukag? Or Sesshomaru himself? And Sesshomaru, he looks extremely upset in these frames... oh no... what's happened? Please don't be anything bad about Rin, she's dealing with enough as is Sesshomaru.

So much stuff going on, I can't stop processing everything and I can't stop watching the teaser over again. Season 2 please hurry up! *Waits patiently* We're getting closer, just need to keep waiting. (Had to reupload because the other is not appearing, so I take it as one of Tumblrs issues sadly. And sorry for taking long been moving and unpacking a lot. (つ﹏<。)

[borat123]

Analysis Pro NH Anti NS

Naruto Manga Part 2

Part 13 Finale

The reanimated Minato appears on the battlefield. He asks Naruto out of the blue, if the girl healing him is his girlfriend. Naruto’s reaction to this is actually very flat and careless. He hesitates and fumbles his words, then he falsesly agree and says ”if you’re splitting hairs, i guess”. The defintion of splitting hairs is and i quote: to make often peevish criticisms or objections about matters that are minor, unimportant, or irrelevant.

So clearly Naruto doesn’t even remotly see her in a romantic light. Not that he ever did, his ”crush” on her was only a side effect of the rivalry with Sasuke. He only noticed her because she actively tried her best to get noticed by Sasuke and made herself as pretty as possible. And Naruto being the goof that he is, saw the biggest Sasuke fangirls attempt at getting his attention and got jealous of Sasuke and tried to get her attention instead of Sasuke so that he could be better than Sasuke at something.

Anyway Sakura becomes furious and immediatly punches Naruto (in the middle of healing him by the way) and he comments on how she’s supposed to heal him and that he’s suffered more damage now because of her (honestly if anything they are more like two siblings quarrelling).

Then Minato out of the blue just like his stupid girlfriend comment compares Sakura to Kushina. But he actually looks embarrassed that she resembles her not so positive side. Kushina obviously has her loving, caring and ambitious side and he certaintly doesn’t compare her to that, but only her temper (that sooo many girls share in Naruto by the way it’s not exactly a unique trait). Minato looks embarrased and nervously laughs and then says somewhat sarcastically ” i leave my son in you’re capable hands”.

So he doesn’t actually supports them as a couple as some have claimed. Naruto later tells him that he hasn’t found a girlfriend and he accepts that and supports him.

Naruto thanks Sakura for healing him and then tells her to rest. He doesn’t actually see her as a capable kunoichi and he never really believed in her strength. Compare this to how he treats Sasuke or Hinata where he willingly invites them into battle with him and it becomes blatantly clear that Naruto doesn’t respect her. Besides Sakura even comments on how he only sees her as a damsel in distress and she’s not exactly wrong.

The first thing Naruto thinks about when he sees Sakura’s new super strength is how she’s gonna ”turn him into a stain” if he makes her angry. Her physical abuse on him has obviously had an lasting effect if that’s the first thing he comes up with. Compare this to Sasuke’s reaction where he smirks proudly instead.

We get another perspective of Naruto’s and Hinata’s hand holding where we see Naruto squeeze her hand harder and him smiling at her. We also have more foreshadowing of Naruto and Hinata’s future relationship. She notes she wants to stay beside Naruto forever, while remembering Naruto, she is able to not only complete the Eight Trigrams Sixty-Four Palms, but also combine it with Gentle Step Twin Lion Fists.

Naruto is later at the verge of death and Sakura uses her role as a medic Ninja to try and save him. She talks about how his unbeliveable dream is just around the corner and also does CPR on him (which a lot of people confuse with a kiss for some reason, i guess they’re either stupid or desperate for anything remotely close to NaruSaku). Besides it feels a lot more like Sakura is desperate to save her friend, who is much more like a brother to her than a romantic partner. Honestly the girl has been horny for Sasuke most of her life so why would that suddenly change just because she tries desperatly to save her friend who she only has nothing but platonic feelings towards.

When Naruto’s saved he doesn’t even thank her and just says ”lets go”. The depth honestly astounds me!

Later Sakura performs a very wise decision of rushing straight towards Madara with no plan or warning of her ingenious plan. This is very similar to when she decided to come back and stab Sasuke when he fought Kakashi. Typical case of narcissism, thinking she’s hot shit and can do everything herself even though Sasuke and Naruto (her much stronger teammates) saved her sorry ass. Naruto and Sasuke then help her and she doesn’t even thank Naruto for saving her and only despairs over Sasuke not caring. Naruto barely reacted at all to her getting stabbed. Compare this to when Hinata got stabbed when he went bat shit crazy and almost transformed into the Nine Tails.

Hinata is put under the Infinite Tsukuyomi and mentally calls out for Naruto...

And Naruto hears her mental call! In his protective nature he almost ran out of the Susanoo, leaving Team 7 behind. He is only just stopped by Sasuke. Let me really talk about this here, not only could he hear her mental call, but he also had no hesitation to rush out to save her even though he would leave Team 7, his ”family” behind. I mean hearing mental calls and seeing emotions through eyes, that’s some next level shit honestly!

This sort of validate the idea that Naruto and Hinata are connected. Both Naruto and Hinata constantly use words the other has said (for example Hinata says his Ninja way and Naruto makes a refrence to being ”selfish” earlier in the war. There are so many parallels between them that i cant list them all here). They also understand each others hardships, how they are both ”proud failures” who work hard to change themselves. They are kindred spirits. They both admire and respect each others will to never give up and that’s also ironically why they both start falling for each other. We know how in Naruto people are connected through blood, for example with the summoning jutsu. Naruto’s blood vow to Hinata was him sealing that connection between them.

Inside the Infinite Tsukuyomi, Hinata dreams of being with Naruto, while Neji and Hanabi watch. Which, incidentally, also discards claims that she cared nothing for Neji because apparently her greatest dreams was being with Naruto and Neji being alive.

Interesting how they show Hinata in this panel as it could be viewed as an in direct reference to Naruto’s and Hinata’s relationship and past.

We see Naruto and Hinata standing very close to each other at Neji’s funeral. It was implied that they actually got really close after the war. Hinata is also seen crying at Neji’s funeral so that debunks stupid claims of her not ”caring”. Honestly he was like a brother too her, of course she would care?! What’s wrong with people?

Besides i think that it’s very likely that the Last could have worked to be set shortly after the war. Both Naruto and Hinata have shown (atleast for me) that they both love each other and that they are ready for a relationship. But at the same time, Naruto, even though he’s matured a whole lot compared to the start of Part 2 is still oblivous to real romantic love, even though he has shown signs of it towards Hinata. That he thinks Hinata and Ramen are the same thing is actually somewhat believable since he confuses his love for her with his childhood comfort food that has brought him happiness. It’s actually a very Naruto thing in my opinion.

So it still makes sense to be set 2 years after, the characters need to mature and be older sure, but it defiantly could have worked earlier.

Anyway that will be all for these analyses. It was a lot of fun to write these and hopefully you learned something new by reading them. Hopefully this brought some new light towards NH and also some depth as to why NS was always a crack ship.

Naruto and Hinata’s relationship is something that had always interested me since the start. Actually NH moments in Part 1 are my prefered subject and i wouldn’t mind maybe doing analyses on them too. Thanks for reading!

Here are all the previous parts:

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12