#also before anyone accuses me of being an attention whore; I’m not saying this for me;;; but seeing my favourite creators get basically

[sabbathbloodysabbeth]

So I’m bored and I’ve been considering it, and I think I’m going to actually follow through.

✨one shot requests✨

18+ only (minors please don’t interact)

If you have an idea, or concept you want to see written send it in to my ask box! It’s not 100% guaranteed to get a one shot, and if it doesn’t I’ll still toss ideas out there for it and maybe one of my followers might want to write it!

I write mostly Steddie, but I’m willing to do any platonic ship and Chrissy x Robin. (Though if there is another ship that’s romantic I’ll consider accepting your request)

I can deny some of the requests because they make me uncomfortable! Remember I don’t owe you anything.

I’m also doing this because I enjoy interacting with others! And i feel like I haven’t done much of that on here. So please send something in! I’ll gladly respond :)

(I’m a whore for attention and will do anything for it)

Asks can be anything! Requests for a one shot, gushing over a head cannon, just dropping in to say hi literally anything. Though if it’s a hate filled ask I’ll still respond because like I said I’m a whore for attention and you’re feeding me in a problematic way but still feeding me 😎

Writing Example;

"Chris, I think you need to cut back on 'The Last Of Us', It might be getting to your head because I will not die from foot fungus." He laughs gently, a small snort leaving him before he turns his head to look back forward. Carefully nodding his head in acknowledgement to a group of kids that he recognized from school. Wincing as his feet lands back onto dry pavement, causing him to bounce a little bit again, hearing the slight laughter from a couple of people around him.

"Athletes foot existed way before that show started to air Munson," Chrissy snorts out as she moves her hand up to her hair, that was down past her shoulders only for a second before she had to tie it up into ponytail for the pool. Wearing two hair ties on her wrist, one that was for her and the other for Eddie. Who had been too distracted with the idea of seeing a boy back from the dead then swimming or looking up pool rules."Now, don't change the topic! Did you? Or did you not come only for Steve Harrington?" She accuses, walking a bit faster to playfully poke the back of the others right shoulder. Green sandals slapping the scolding pavement loudly, nearly hitting the others heels in the process.

"Well there was that one other time when Johnny Depp's face randomly popped up in an ad when I was watching po-"

"Ew, don't you dare finish that sentence dude or I seriously jump in this pool and drown myself." Chrissy's nose is scrunched up at him in disgust. Gagging lightly as she quickly adds, "And there's children!" She squeals a little bit as they finally find the worst spot to sit at. A small area near the corner of the fence that everyone avoided due to the amount of ants that lived in said corner. Both of them scrunch their noses up at the sight of bugs, Eddie being extra careful not to squish any from underneath him as he held a battle with his sensitive feet.

"Well, you did ask me if I've ever come for anyone but Steve Harrington." Eddie comments with a sleazy smile, tilting his head to look away from the ground back to Chrissy. He knew exactly what he was doing as he keeps squirming around, eyes fleeting down to the towel that the other was carrying along with the bag filled with their things. Snapping his fingers at her to drop the towel to the ground, being impatient. Still doing a slight jig in attempt at making sure to keep his feet from burning to a crisp.

"I should let your feet burn off," She playfully growls, setting the bag down off to the side first, furthest away from the bugs as possible. Purposely not setting the towel down to the ground, knowing exactly what she was doing before quickly rolling up the towel in a tight twist. Swinging it in a small circle to get the twist effect before moving forward and slapping the others side with it, causing a loud slapping noise to go over the buzzing sound of chatter that surrounded them. Eddie yelps out, hand flying to his side skin turning a light pink with little goosebumps forming from where the towel impacted. Now hopping up and down in a little circle, hissing from the pain of his feet and his side. "Feet still hurt?" The girl teases, batting her eyelashes at him playfully. Breaking out in soft giggles when he begins to glare at her, though a softness still left in his demeanor.

"You abuse me woman," he whines in complaint right as she finally lays the towel out evenly on the ground. Barely getting it on the ground before Eddie's standing on top of it with a dramatic sigh. "Poor things were about to turn into fried dogs." He jokes, referencing his feet in a way that he knew Chrissy hated. Earning a small pinch at the fattiest part of his arm, causing him to giggle manically at the other. Closing his eyes for a second as the sun flashes itself into his eyes, blinding him leaving him to only be able to hear Chrissy digging into her bag loudly. Moving item after item around with soft clacks.

After a minute of hearing this, a soft "aha," was heard signaling Eddie to open his eyes to catch sight of Chrissy holding a ugly orange bottle. His nose scrunches up immediately when he sees the horribly animated sun with sunglasses on and goo going down the right side of its face. It was a horrible image and whoever approved it had some serious issues. He's pretty sure he could draw a logo that looked ten times better then that. Realization dawns on him when he realizes that the girl was going to try and put that stuff on him! He hated the feel of cold cream against his skin, and was already coming up with scenarios in his head on how he was going to drown himself as quickly as possible.

[kkusuka]

HQ poly Headcannons  pt. 2

Poly Headcannons <3  part 1 

pairs: Oikawa & Ushijima, Hanamaki & Matsukawa, Suna & Osamu, Kita & Aran, iwaizumi & Kyotani, and Oikawa & Kageyama

nsfw and sfw

Oikawa Tooru & Ushijima Wakatoshi

Sfw

This was an interesting match up

Considering the fact that Tooru can barely stand sharing you sometimes, they seem to make it work!

You were most likely Ushiwaka’s girlfriend, and Tooru just couldn't stand for that

Well at first he didn't really know that fact

He met you in the stans after an Alders game that he 100% wasn't there to spy on Toshi or to see how much better he got, no way

But luckily, you the beautiful angel of light, sat next to him to cheer for Waka’s team!

So after the game when Tooru was flirting with you and you completely ignored him to go to your boyfriend, Oikawa was more than let down

And you ignored him for the brick wall???? He just didn't understand.

Now he wanted you more than he did when he saw you, even more so that you belonged to the bastard Ushiwaka.

After almost 8 months of befriending you, he finally weaseled into your relationship! And Ushiwaka was so whipped for you he let it happen!

But at that point, he was so whipped for you that he didn't even care that they shared you!

Your guy’s dynamic is a bit twisted and hard to get a good understanding of.

Where Tooru makes it painfully aware to everyone that the two of you are dating, Wakatoshi is like a silent predator

He’s silent but deadly, and you’ve known him for far longer. That means he knows what you really like.

It's simple, he let’s tooru take you on extravagant dates and all that meaningless stuff.

But Ushiwaka is always there waiting at home to cuddle and watch a ton of movies with, he even lets you climb on him and cuddle him like a big teddy bear

Nsfw

This is one of the pairs that I think you're fucked in

It’s a silent competition of who can wreck you worse

Unlike some other Oikawa pairs, I truly believe that Oikawa would top

But Wakatoshi is also a top, a big man who has big needs

This ends up with you most likely with a two cocks one hole situation

If not that, it's the classic split roasts or Eiffel tower!

Oh to have Ushiwaka reaming you with Tooru in your mouth, yeah it's not as peaceful and soft as it sounds

But it’s still worth it

It starts softly! Then they go harder to try and beat the other! Then they really just treat you like a fleshlight.

Thankfully Tooru knows good aftercare techniques

But you still can’t walk for a while

“You can cum for me, show Toshi why you like better, go ahead”  

“You stretch so good for me, even after Tooru’s turn, you're always so tight”

“Look at her little clit, did Ushiwaka not pay enough attention to it? That’s ok! Tooru’s gonna make it all better for you!”

Hanamaki Takahiro & Matsukawa Issei

sfw 

Let's be real here, you met them at a spencers or a sex shop in a mall.

But it was a cute meetup!

After that, you guys just seemed to keep bumping into each other and became close friends

The initial relationship was started by Makki, he was the more open of the two so it made sense

And it’s been smooth sailing from then on

The amount of inside jokes you guys have is almost ridiculous, everywhere you go in the city you have a joke

You guys spend almost every waking moment with one another

One of their favorite things is to take you shopping, so you can do a little fashion show for them with anything you want to try on!

As in them make you try on revealing outfits for them

Dates normally would include random dinners at restaurants them a movie night/ sleepover

Like you guys would just stay up an fool around for hours on hours

They literally have no problems sharing and are always making sure you're perfectly ok with everything they do.

Nsfw

As expected you guys are very adventurous

Daddy Matsun got you and Makki covered

Well that's when Makki isn't trying to ream you into the couch

They both like toys, like a lot, a lot

Punishment is where the toys really shine, but you can't really call the toy punishment, punishment because you feel really good during it.

And it the most repeated thing you guys do

Mattsun’s the punishment dealer, so he’ll give you the biggest dildo that you guys have, no lube, he’ll tie your arms up and make you try to get down on it

BUT if he’s feeling a bit more punishing, he’ll set up a vibrator and set it to your little clit and turn it ALLLL the way up

But if that isn't enough, he will either let Makki in your ass, or the fuck machine will come out

They really love watching you try to get off, it does two things

1-  it gives them new ideas

2- it shows how much you need them, and their cocks in your little aching holes

This lead to them having you wear plugs in public, which moved to wearing a vibrator

Sometimes, they make you wear a mask, but under the mask

(come here)

(closer)

(closer)

They make you wear a ball gag under your mask

Good babies do what their daddies tell them too <3

“Look ‘Kawa, her hole is so tight she can barely fit both of us, just relax baby. They’ll get in, we’ll make sure of it”

“Makki, spread her legs wider, don't let her his from this”

“Don't make me gag you brat, you’re lucky Makki is in good mood, huh?”

Suna Rintaro & Osamu Miya

The way you got together was like love at first sight  

For both of them too

You met Osamu first, you were seated next to him at an Italian cooking class

You guys had joked around and he was so impressed by your cooking that he got your number!

(he won't tell you but he had already sent pictures of you to Suna, and he was doing it allllllllll night)

He immediately invited you to Onigiri Miya, where you met Mr. Rintarou

Who was already practically in-love with you just from pictures.

You were clearly drawn to them, they were so cool!

They made a big scene of asking you out too

They both took you to one of the best restaurants in the city and had a private balcony dinner

After dessert they took both of your hands and asked you, in sync nonetheless, you do wonder how long it took for them to figure out how to do that

Clearly, you said yes, and that was the first of the many great memories you have with the two!

Since they both have pretty busy schedules they can't always come to you, so you go to them!

Even if they assured you that you didn't have to work, that never stops you from taking up shifts and Onigiri Miya on Monday and Fridays, (sometimes on Wednesdays if Osmau relents)

Even when you do work, you make time to make and bring Suna lunch every time he has all day practice

(you make them both lunch every day, but they can get it themselves, they are grown men, and you serve no one)

Traditional dates are less common, you guys mostly just like to hang out with each other

Like 3 am cooking challenges and asking to get ice cream from the shop down the road

You guys also, when you can, just spend hours cuddling in your bed or on the couch just in each other's arms

(can you tell i’m uwu-ing)

Nsfw

For having a busy schedule you guys sure do have time to fuck

A common theme is having Samu fuck you when Suna watches

God, watching you fall apart around his best friends dick will never get old, so so pretty when you're all fucked out and begging for him too

Sometimes hell have you suck him off, but he isn't unstable he can wait his turn~

Osamu works just as hard as he does, he has to let oust some stress and, you're just so good at making them feel better

Remember the cuddling?

Yes, that's a guise to cockwarm you, let them relax you always feel so good and today was s stressful

I can tell you saw this coming but, Suna likes to put whipped cream all over you, it gives him an excuse to eat you out for hours and Osamu and excuse to have you naked and able to eat as much whipped cream as he wants

Do they like double penn.?

Yes, very much so ma’am.

Just know that you are stuffed at any available moment they can manage

*cough*  whipped  *cough*

“look she’s grinding into like a circus whore huh ‘Samu? go harder” 

“look into the camera baby, tell them all the things you’d love for them to do to you” 

Iwaizumi & Kyoutani

This was an interesting one for sure

A senpais pretty girlfriend thing too

Iwaizumi knew Mad Dog had a crush on you before he did, and he did everything in his power to deny the accusation

The entire team could see how the second year was calm and behaved when you were around, so taking the high road

Iwaizumi came a with a plan: bring you and Kyotani as close as possible

All with consent firm you and knowing he was ok with anything that would happen

Suddenly inviting him to hang out with the two of you

Then it was letting him have you in his lap while you watch movies

And that progressed into letting him cuddle you after bad days, never  without Iwa of course

Everyone on the team could tell the effects that it was having on him, he was calmer and easier to get along with.

He even started listening to Oikawa when he spoke, it was like a miracle.

And k\Kyotani finally got enough courage to tell you!

(you had pretty much known, but wanted him to say it himself)

Thus began what I would call that “Kyotani learns how to love” saga

Dates were first, they both took you to a small field of flowers to have a picnic and when it got dark out you guys set up a sheet and watched a movie!

For the both of them being temperamental, they got along really well

(mostly because Kyotani hangs off nay words you or Iwaizumi say)

You also make the both of them lunch and some afternoon snacks for practice!

(and if anyone who sees you guys, they’ll never mention how odd the two angry boys look next to their sweet little princess)

Nsfw

Sir Iwaizumi holds the torch

He’s the main dominant force, though Kyotani tries oh he does

Yeah, hate to say it but you bottom for them, every time.

A big thing is when he lets Kyo get you alone (while he watches)

Yeah maybe he lets kyo take over every once in a while, he’ll let him have you

Iwaizumi love having you under him, putting you in the mating press while Kyo watches from a chair a vibrator tied to him, just watching until Iwa finishes and leys Kyo try and breed you

You guys have also dedicated hours to getting you stretch enough to take both of them in one hole, but if not that then one hole for each of them will do

As you could imagine, they both love marking you up

You always come out of sex looking beat up

Most of the bruises are on your neck and inner thighs, but the bites on your nipples and the curve of your ass beg to differ

Now the real question is when Kyo is being bad!

Feathery kisses all over him, that's not where he wants your mouth, lower go lower

Don’t leave him!

He always learns his lessons after hours of waiting Iwa breed you

You being bad?

No cumming for a week, they can play with you but unless you want the time to get longer you don’t even think about orgasming.

“Calm down Kentaro, it’s too early to break her, we just got started.”

“Yeah i let Hajime have you but you still belong to me too, don’t forget that”

Kita Shinsuke  & Aran Ojiro

This was the perfect girl next door story!

Middle school aran was so thankful to have you calm him down after yet another Miya twins episode

So as the two of you grew up it was natural that you became friends with his friends!

Namely his bestfriends- Kita!

Who was practically at your feet the second you met

From first to third year, they both grew to REALLY like you

They were both ready to spend the rest of their lives with you and were prepared to share if you wanted that.

The day you guys all got together was when they lost to Karasuno at nationals

You guys went back you the hotel room and just sat, cooing how well they did and how great they were no matter the outcome

It wasn't out of the normal for them to be all over you, both of them got a hand, but Aran was nestled into your lap and Kita was snuggled into your chest

Nothing was planned either, at that moment they knew that it was their chance!

The look on their faces when you said that you felt the same!

From then on you were treated even more like a queen

Every Monday before school one of them gets you a bouquet of flowers for the week and the other comes up with a date idea!

You're involved in the dates cycle and that now have a pile of stuffed animals that you got them from things like festivals or the mall

Since your relationship started with a cuddle, it's a favorite between you guys

A movie and some take out. Making fun of the Miya twins, and when Kita won’t admit it, you guys watch a rom-com, where you and Aran laugh at Kita's confused face when he doesn't understand the joke

Even with all of that, the real favorite between you guys is staying after practice and just having fun while cleaning up.

They just wuvvv uuuuuuuuu <3

Nsfw

Even if Kita is the commanding voice, Aran id the driving force

Kita likes when you two put on a show for him

Not that it's hard, even if Aran wasn't half as good as he was, your faces could satisfy him until his dying days.

Speaking of shows, Kita is a dictator, which means punishments

One of his favorites is having you finger fuck yourself in front of him and Aran until you can't move

Another is tying you up at having you watch the both of them jerk off to seeing you try and get off by grinding on the sheets (which does not work)

Aran, whether he admits it or not, he took a page out of Suna’s book

His entire hidden photo album is of you either being fucked by him or sucking Kita off

He also has an entire recorded version do you guys fucking that he and Kita watch when you aren't home

When Kita does have you to himself he takes on the Dom/Sub kinda thing

Aka borderline pet play

You sit and listen to him and what he says like a good pet, and you get a reward!

He dresses you up in little white dresses and he has you kneel in front of him and cockwarm him while he works

When Aran has you alone he takes the chance toooooo

….

…

…

..

Breed you!

Like a good little girl!

You take his cum so so well, don't you!

Yes yes, you do!

“Don’t let her walk all over you Aran, breed her like a good cow” (i had to, I really did)

“You look so pretty stretched around my cock, you're a good breeding whore, right? Yes, you are!” 

Oikawa Tooru & Tobio Kageyama

This was a classic “in love with my senpais pretty girlfriend” kinda thing

Kags didn't mean to

He had known you from middle school and had a huge crush on you, but he knew that was as far as it would go

But when you came up to him after the game with seijoh and told him that he would have better luck next time

It was the hug that got him and in true Kageyama fashion he just couldn't help the words that fell from his mouth

“Thank you, you're still really pretty, and I've always loved you!”

Silence………………………………….

He couldn't even apologize because Oikawa was already on you yelling at him about never letting you near Kageyama again.

Yeah you had calmed both of them down, telling Tooru that he was overreacting and Kageyama was harmless to your relationship

After a few days of silence, you had invited Kageyama to have a “talk” with you and Oikawa

It was really just talking about feelings and ultimately Oikawa admitting that he was willing to give it a try, but you were his first and foremost and that won’t change

But you were quick to realize that they were actually really good together

The rivalry between the two always kept you on your toes and fueled both of their superiority complexes

Dates were always happening all the time, anther constant competition for you to like one of them better than the other

It's mostly movies and take out but its a date nonetheless

One thing they love to do is try to teach you how to play, all the time they try to get you to hit their sets

Even if you're awful at it, they appreciate you trying to learn more about their greatest passion.

You also try to go to as many of their practices as you can manage, they really love having you there to cheer them on!

Nsfw

Ok so at first Kageyama had absolutely no idea what to do, so some exploring was mandatory

Finding out he was a switch was a happy surprise!

That leads to things going two ways!

You could have Tooru taking his throne in the bedroom and he commands his two peasants to do exactly what he wants them too

This can include just regular soft sex with your little tobio gazing and longing for him, while tooru watches

Or

Tooru will have the two of you grinding, Tobio with a cock ring and you a strict order to no cum until told.

Or maybe he’ll have the two of you ride dildos, tied up and making a pretty show for him

Or you could have Tobio dictating both of you

This is mostly having you ride him while Toru watches, but he can't touch

It also might be Tooru eating you out and kags in your mouth, fucking your face. <3

Whenever either of the boys wins something you take all the time in the world and worship him as he deserves!

“Aw! Tobio I know you can go faster than that! Oh ho ho, ~ y/n I know you aren't about to cum! I didn't give you the go-ahead! Hold on, baby!”

“Tooru you look so weak. You haven't even touched her and you're ready to cum.”

“You look so pretty under me, Tobio~ let me and Tooru take care of you!”  

[diavolosthots]

Could you make a fic about Diavolo finding out that his mc is being bullied for not being good enough for the future King?

We all know MC would get the hell bullied out of them by several demons

Warning: mentions of bullying

Unworthy (DIAVOLO X GN!READER)

Coming to the Devildom, you would’ve never imagined all the fascinating things it would bring you. After all, hell is supposed to be this dark and unforgiving place, is it not? Yet, when you arrived you were greeted with somewhat open arms. A little mistrusting, and a hell of a lot chaotic, but not as badly as you would have imagined it. Things, for the most part, went smoothly, and even Belphegor grew on you at some point. Of course, what would this story be without some classic romance? The Demon Lord took particular interest in you and you found yourself being intrigued by him too. Seriously, the man is attractive, intelligent, and has a sense of humor; it’s an overall win! Still, there was a lot that came with being close to him. Even as just a friend, you were challenged on the daily for ulterior motives or any regime you might lead against him. As his lover, all of that became worse. But none of that mattered to you, or really made you think twice about him. You always came out on top, truthful and honest, and never proved a threat to the future King. In a way, Barbatos had even praised you for it, although discreetly. It felt good to be wanted and it felt even better to be wanted by him, that’s why you didn’t really have much of a problem to prove yourself pretty much on the daily. 

But proving yourself didn’t just mean you had to prove yourself to him and his immediate circle, did it? Demons were jealous beings, rageful demons… the seven avatars shone in every sinful creature that walked the Devildom grounds and some of them shone out more than others. You weren’t a favorite by default, being human and all, but having managed to “suck your way up to the Demon Lord”, per the citizens of the Devildom, had you on a whole new hate list. Diavolo was, per unspoken rule of, once again, the citizens, off limits for anyone. Many have tried and all of them have failed to come close to him. Barbatos had been the main cause of that because the loyal servant seemed to think no one was good enough for his Lord, but if by some miracle, someone did manage to get past Barbatos, it was Diavolo they had to worry about. The Prince was picky, always has been, in everything he does and in everyone he takes. Even being courtesan to the future King proved more than difficult, and yet, somehow, someway, a measly human managed to snuggle up to him. 

Needless to say, you really grabbed the short end of the stick. Thankfully, you were at the House of Lamentation for most of your time outside of RAD, so the bullying and accusations were limited to school hours, but you would be lying if you said they didn’t take a toll on you. Hearing things like, “pathetic, useless human” or “Spineless cocksucker” or “dick kissing attention whore” took its toll on you mentally. Of course, the abuse never stayed verbal, did it? If none of the brothers were around to protect you, which thankfully rarely ever happened, people are quick to get physical, too. Being shoved into walls, robbed of any money you had on you, or even being dunked into the toilets are all not new tricks to you. As much as life in the Devildom was glorious, it was also frightful. Naturally, as most people would, you tried to keep these things to yourself, maybe cry in the shower or in the middle of the night when you were sure everyone else was asleep. 

Today, you couldn’t hide it though. You were supposed to meet Diavolo right after classes were done, but sadly, one succubus decided to gang up with a few incubi and throw you, yes literally throw you, down the steps at RAD. Nothing terrible happened, but you twisted your ankle and bruised both elbows when you landed. If that wasn’t enough, they of course had to throw some words at you as well. “He’s just looking for new meat.” “You’re nothing more than a cockwarmer.” “You don’t think Lord Diavolo actually wants you, do you? You’re an easy slut with no sense of self worth.” You cried, of course, and couldn’t wipe the tears quick enough before Barbatos came to pick you up. His usual smile faltered and before he even asked what happened, he went to get Diavolo. “I’ll tell My Lord immediately.” For obvious reasons, that’s the last thing you wanted, but Barbatos was already gone before you had the chance to stop him. You curled up on one of the steps, pulling your knees up to rest your head against, one hand rubbing over your twisted ankle while your face rubbed against your knees to collect the tears, “What ever did I do….” that’s the thing though, you really didn’t do anything. 

“(Y/N)!” Diavolo was quick behind you, racing down the steps to get to you and immediately dropping to his knees to inspect your ankle, grimacing when you pulled it back because the pressure he put on it hurt, “Get some ice Barbatos.” “Yes, My Lord.” You couldn’t look at him, feeling pathetic that a few bullies got to you and actually managed to somewhat break you. “Talk to me (Y/N). What happened?” He tried to lift your head, cradling your face in his hands but you turned away from him, not wanting him to see your tears, which broke his heart. His arms wrapped around you gently, pulling you into his chest while letting himself fall back on his butt so both of you could be more comfortable. You shook your head against his chest, watching as the tears got soaked into his red RAD uniform, which made you feel worse. “They hate me…” the sentence came out in sobs, making Diavolo’s arms only tighten around you, “Who hates you?” 

His head rested on top of yours, anger and sadness boiling beneath his skin. Anger because who dares touch you? Who dares mess with the Prince’s lover? Sadness because he feels like he can’t do anything unless you tell him. His head lifts when Barbatos comes back with the ice pack, taking it from him and then shifting a bit, “I’m putting this on your ankle, alright?” He waits for you to nod before placing it gently against your ankle, which had started to swell already, “who hates you, (Y/N)?” You gripped his coat tightly, hiding your face further in his chest, “Your people…” 

You told him everything, albeit in between sobs and heavy breathing. He listened, making sure to keep the ice back on your ankle, although it almost broke a few times from how hard he was gripping it. Honestly, he can’t believe anyone would have the guts to touch you while you’re under his care and supervision, but especially because you’re his. Have they forgotten whom they’re messing with? This could easily end in a death sentence for all of them, and from a quick glance at Barbatos, Diavolo knew that his servant was thinking the same thing. “You’re coming with me, (Y/N). Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” You let him pick you up, bridal style, and carry you through the never ending RAD hallways until the outside of the Devildom hit your skin. He walked, all the way back to the castle, with you in his arms, and something about that made you feel at ease. He didn’t push anything else, he didn’t even try to make it better, although he did make it better by just holding you. 

“Why am I here?” You couldn’t help but wonder, though, why he did bring you back to his castle. After all, you lived back with the brothers, but his next words had your heart flutter and a soft smile spread across your lips, “because you’re staying with me, by my side, where you belong.”

[wolf-queer-discourse]

Adventures in Aphobia #1

So I was scrolling through Tumblr the other day (a regrettable mistake as always), and I had the great pleasure of seeing this joyous post.

*deep breath*

Not gonna lie, posts like this make me real pissed. Pissed because the person who posted this exists in a space where they feel comfortable enough to post this online. Pissed because these posts are so common and often face little backlash. And pissed because there’s nothing better than allosexuals condescendingly explaining to asexual people why they’re dirty attention whores who invent their own oppression. Ace people deserve to be defended against this horseshit. Young people see these posts, and it’s extremely damaging to have your identity be nothing more than fuel for people in discourse to mock you and demand you bled in order for them to notice your pain.

Anger aside, many people do not see why this post is wrong, so why is it? Let’s unpack this clusterfuck of bigotry:

“would love to see substantive evidence of systematic “aphobia” that isn’t actually just misogyny, toxic masculinity, or rpe culture.”

God damn, we are not mincing our words here XD. A few things: systematic in bold, which tells you if you do not make a blood sacrifice on the altar of queer pain you will not be taken seriously. Potential nitpick, but systemic and systematic are not the same thing. I believe systemic is the word they’re looking for. Systematic implies a lot more intentionality that can be hard to prove. Systemic merely means that systems, in their current state, do aphobic things, which they absolutely do.

“Aphobia” in quotes is absolutely rich. Not only will this person refuse to acknowledge systemic aphobia, which is only one type, but this poster casts clear doubt upon the mere concept of aphobia in and of itself. We love to see it.

There’s a lot to unpack here. The statement, as clearly condescending as intended, is sort of correct, though it doesn’t mean a whole lot. Systemic oppression is about the systems in a society (government, healthcare, etc) discriminating against people. Systemic oppression is not bigotry faced on a person-to-person level. In short, systematic oppression is something a person experiences in their overall life, while personal discrimination is experienced on a personal level by people who are not singularly in control of the systems. This post boils down the negative comments ace people face into being called “weird”, which is an understatement for sure, but calling a gay person weird isn’t systemic oppression either.

It’s still bad and discriminatory.

This is such a snotty way to dismiss aphobia as some mere, insignificant comment with no meaning as if it doesn’t reinforce society’s painful aphobic views in the same way casual homophobic comments reinforce heteronormativity and society’s hostility toward gay people.

Ace people face discrimination in healthcare, most notably, which is systemic discrimination, but the systemic discrimination of asexuals really ought to be its own post if I’m to nosedive into it. Even if ace people faced no systemic discrimination, it wouldn’t make this point anymore correct. Discrimination is a perfectly valid reason to feel disregarded by society, and often only ace people are denied the right to feel this way and are instead gaslit into admitting what they face is no big deal and they’re just making it up for attention.

The experience of being pressured to have sex when you’re allo vs ace is very different. The vast majority of allo people do not plan to be celibate their whole lives. Many ace people do not want to have sex, ever. “Waiting for sex” in much of western society and in Christianity is seen as pure and honorable. Yet being asexual and never wanting sex is seen as a deviant disorder and people are accused of robbing their partner of sex forever.

There’s really a specific flavor of sexual pressure that is unique to ace people. Sex being to “fix” someone or because they “just need to try it”.

In this respect, aphobic sexual pressure is better compared to that faced by gay people and lesbians. Lesbians especially often can face this same struggle, men pressuring them to have sex because they think lesbians just need to “try it” or to “fix them”. I can imagine this poster would have no issue acknowledging lesbophobia being the root of lesbians coerced into sex with men, yet she does not give ace people the same.

Imagine if someone said (and knowing our fucked world, someone probably has): “Lesbophobia doesn’t exist. It’s just misogyny. Straight women are coerced into sex too!”

It’d be pathetic bullshit. Toxic masculinity, misogyny and many other issues can all tangle into combined messes with other forms of bigotry. Lesbophobia is an experience that deserves to be recognized apart from misogyny, even if the two are linked. Please stop erasing ace people’s experiences with this when it’s not the same thing.

Honestly, though, this post, as trashy as it is, if anything, is perhaps, really asking: Is there any type of aphobic experience that’s inherently exclusive to ace people?

I still wager to go say, yes, yes there is, but I must make an important point first:

Most experiences of queer discrimination are not limited to queer people.

Homophobia and transphobia are both experienced by cishets in certain instances. Feminine straight men can be victims of homophobic harassment. This does not disprove the fact that it’s homophobia just because a straight man is the victim of it. A tall cis woman with broad shoulders and a lower voice may be the victim of transphobic remarks or comments. The basis of these comments is rooted in transphobia, however, so the fact that the victim is cis does not erase the transphobia.

People who argue that experiences ace people complain about can be experienced by allosexuals are not poking a legitimate hole in doing this. Certain experiences related to aphobia can and are experienced by allosexuals. If you do not acknowledge this, then homophobia and transphobia aren’t real because cishet people have sometimes experienced them.

Despite cishets sometimes experiencing queerphobia, most of us acknowledge that their experience of that bigotry, however unfortunate, is not the same as that experienced by actual queer people. It’d be quite homophobic for a feminine straight man to claim he knew just as much about the gay experience as an actual gay man. Similarly, when allosexual people relate experiences that were rooted in aphobia, it’s overstepping a line when they claim asexual discrimination isn’t real because they experienced elements of it too.

Cishet (cishet including allosexuals) people do not experience their doctors telling them their sexuality might be a disorder or caused by trauma. Allo queer people can experience this with their sexualities too.

“using sex appeal to sell products is misogyny, it is not engineered to gross sex-repulsed people, it is meant to objectify women.”

This is a strawman thinner than my last nerve. Uh, what? What ace people are you seeing that literally think sex appeal was engineered to gross-out sex-repulsed people?? I don’t think this is a core argument??

Yes, sex-repulsed ace people sometimes complain about sex appeal in media being uncomfortable. But that’s it. Every time an ace person shares a discomfort of theirs doesn’t mean it’s the entire basis of their oppression. For the love of God, let ace people discuss their experiences without being blow-torched over not being oppressed enough with an individual discomfort. 

BONUS ROUND

(This was in the tags)

“Completely vilifies celibate individuals” 

...no…? What…? Huh…? 

The most charitable interpretation of this vague accusation is that the poster means celibate people face aphobia as well, due to not wanting to have sex. I have no idea how this “vilifies” anyone, but that aside, as said before: people who are not queer can face aphobia. Also worth noting that society treats celibate people way better than ace people, which is really another example of aphobia. Celibate people can be told they’re missing out (which could be at very least related to aphobic ideals), but they’re rarely called broken. Celibacy is seen more as a respected, controlled ideal in allo people, but when ace people want to do it, they’re just mentally ill.

Anyway, the post was aphobic trash, and it needs to be debunked more often. Mocking ace people online is not a good look anymore, guys. Don't be ugly.

[ghostdrew22]

Glass Shatters || Draco Malfoy

Requested: No Pairing: Draco Malfoy x fem!reader, also kinda Blaise x fem!reader Warnings: mentions of drinking, toxicity, ANGST, just pure fucking angst and asshole!draco, oh and swearing lol Summary: You realise that it’s time to end things with Draco when he hurts you one last time. AU with no Voldemort - 7th Year.

WORDS : 2294

Lyrics taken from ‘What Do I Tell My Friends’ by Bree Runway (the loml)

~~~

Hold me, don't let me go I'm fragile, I'm gonna fall right into you Catch time that I have lost Fly high, free fall, ooh

There’s always been something so beautiful about the way that glass shatters, loud and chaotic, scattering shards of itself everywhere and lodging itself in places that it doesn’t belong. It’s poetically exquisite, to just come apart and spread into tinier pieces of what you were once before, but it’s grossly painful to wear oneself out like that.

Sometimes, though not often enough, there is someone there to catch the glass before it hits the ground and scatters into a million pieces. A safety net, perhaps is the right word, there to protect those lattices from coming into contact with the hard surface that awaits them. Something to keep them from separating like the tangled limbs of playful children on a trampoline when they come back down to land against the woven polypropylene. But there’s not often a safety net waiting for you to fall.

And maybe that’s why people typically shatter like glass.

Turn it up for a wild one Turn it up for a wild one Turn it up for a wild one I'll get stupid, I'll get dumb (Uh-huh) Turn it up for a wild one Turn it up for a wild one Turn it up, turn it up, uh

You catch a glimpse of Draco across the room. He’s doing it again. He’s got one arm around Cho Chang’s shoulder and another around Millicent Bullstrode’s, and not a single sliver of attention is being directed toward you.

You’re not fragile. No. You never have been.

For as long as you can remember, you’ve prided yourself on being strong, on being able to protect yourself. What most people see when they look at you is power and ferocity- you're made of what Gods are made of and almost everyone knows it. You are not fragile.

But when it comes to Draco, you are like a frail baby bird that's always being nursed back to health. That was what a routine like the two of you had demanded. Submission, protection, but most would call it toxicity. You are putty in his hands and he knows it- every wall that you’ve ever built to protect yourself is nothing more than a child’s play pen when Draco is involved.

You catch his eye and scowl at the mischievous grin that he’s got on his face. He knows how much you despise his flirtatious nature, and it’s exactly that reason that encourages him to keep it up. You’re a beast that’s not to be messed with, like a tiger lodged in a cage, and he’s the only one that knows how to tame you. It always goes down the same way; he insists that the two of you need to keep it on the down-low, he then proceeds to flirt with everyone, you get upset, the two of you get in an argument and well... he always wins.

You're not fragile yet he always gets a reaction out of you.

But not tonight, no. Tonight it’ll be different.

Tonight you’re going to have a good time, with or without that snow-flake haired prick. You turn beside you where Neville, your best friend, is seated and smile at him.

“Neville, want to get smashed with me?”

“Always, Y/N.” Neville responds with a grin and you excitedly get up to get you both some drinks.

You're g-g-getting way too close (Oh oh, oh oh) Stop blowin' up my phone (Oh oh, oh oh) Just let me be alone (Oh oh, oh oh) It's gotta come to an end 'Cause what do I tell my friends? What do I tell my friends?

Draco catches a glimpse of you leaving the couch where Neville, Blaise and Hannah are sitting, and decides to follow you toward the drinks table.

“Whoring around are we?” He asks with his eyebrows raised and you roll your eyes.

“Oh please, you’re one to talk.”

“What the fuck did you just say?”He tugs on your chin and brings you up to face him.

“First of all,” You start as you softly remove his hand from your chin and lower it to his side, “You heard me. Second of all,” You put a hand to his chest and gently shove him backwards, “Back up please, I can smell your breakfast from here.”

He runs his tongue along the inside of his cheek in annoyance. “Y/N, this bratty behaviour-“

“Call me a brat, ever again, and I’ll make sure that’s the last thing you ever call me.” You smile, “I have a name, stick to it.”

This is very new for Draco, he’s never seen you speak so calmly in the heat of an argument. He’s seen you rage at him, yell until your lungs are sore and throat is raw, clench your fists so tight that crescent moons form in your palm. But he’s never seen you like this, never so collected. If he’s being completely honest, your level-headed appearance is throwing him off.

“Whatever pothead Neville’s given you is clearly fucking with your head, let’s go back to my dorm-“ He starts as he inches closer and grabs your wrist.

You yank yourself out of his grip and take a few steps away from him, “As tempting as that offer sounds, I’m good thanks.” When you notice the look of confusion painting across his features you smile awkwardly, “I know how this always ends so I’d much rather be alone.”

“So I’m just supposed to wait until you don’t want to be alone anymore?” He asks with a scoff.

“It’s not like I haven’t been doing that for you.” You accuse and watch as he clenches his jaw in frustration, a sign that his patience for you is wearing thin. “And that’s not what I meant. I want to be alone, indefinitely.”

“What?”

“This,” You gesture between the both of you, “Is over. I can’t do it anymore.”

“Oh my fuck, do what Y/N?”

“All of it. I can’t keep sneaking around anymore like some kind of dirty secret. I can’t keep watching you flirt with everyone that’s within a 5km radius, and I can’t keep lying to my friends. What am I meant to tell them when I go disappearing for hours at a time and come back, covered in hickeys?”

“Nothing. It's no one's business.” He grits out angrily and you scoff with a small laugh.

“You’re pathetic. We’re done.” You utter before walking away from him, and his little corner, and go back to join Blaise, Hannah and Neville on the dance floor.

In the mirror like you're tough, right? I shoulda known once when you bit twice Drip drop both my , yeah I been nice Vodka overdose but no ice I'm done catching feelings, I catch flights Was in the dark but I got bright Not crawling back to you tonight Not crawling back to you tonight, tonight

“Shots, now.” You mumble once you get back to your friends and they waste no time obliging.

Draco’s had the pleasure of picking you apart like a worn out doll for too long, you won’t tolerate it anymore. He calls, you run. He warns, you heed. He scolds, you leave. Whatever he wants, you do without a moment of hesitation. When had you become so easily prey to his antics? You steal a glance of him checking himself out in a nearby mirror and feel your throat close up in disgust. How can someone so gorgeous be so horrible?

Deep down, beneath all that beauty and cockiness, is a vulnerable, scared and loveless little boy who didn’t learn to outgrow his insecurities. He can pretend all he wants that he’s a diamond but you’ll always know, he’s dark and desolate like a stone of coal. Something inside of him is fractured beyond repair and now he’s just remnants of disintegrated life. And try as hard as you might, you can’t fix whatever’s broken inside him. It’s not your job to anyway.

You always run back to him, in hopes of finally curing the malaise that torments his soul, but not tonight. No. Tonight will be different.

Turn it up for a wild one Turn it up for a wild one Turn it up for a wild one I'll get stupid, I'll get dumb (Uh-uh) Turn it up for a wild one Turn it up for a wild one Turn it up, turn it up, uh

“Is this a party or a funeral? For fucks sake, turn it up Ginny!” You shout as you turn behind you to face the beautiful ginger that’s controlling the music.

“Anything for you Y/N.” She responds flirtatiously as she sends you a wink and proceeds to turn up the volume to the music. You look away from her with a dopey smile, trying to pretend that her wink hadn’t made butterflies erupt in your stomach. Oh Ginny. If you hadn’t wasted so much time pining after that blond prat then maybe you’d have gotten to her before Harry had.

“Come dance with me!” Blaise yells over the music and you happily agree as you let him take your hand and move you toward the makeshift dancefloor.

Any other time, you would have refused. It’s no secret that, despite being best friends, Blaise and Draco can be very competitive. Blaise had always been your friend and Draco, had not. But it was quite obvious to anyone who had eyes that the two of them both took quite a liking to you, and while your relationship with Draco isn’t public, it’s still never a good idea to get too close to Blaise. But fuck good ideas, tonight none of it matters.

If Draco likes to see you angry then today he’ll see you seething. Every unspoken rule that’s ever sat between the two of you will now be broken so harshly that it’ll shake him to his core.

You wait until you’ve spotted him in the room, then you hook your arms around Blaise’s neck and allow his hands to fall on your waist as a measure to guide you along with him. It’s not long until Draco sees you, and when his eyes lock with yours, you know that he’s positively enraged. If this is a game, today you are winning.

He’s almost always got the upper hand. But not tonight. No. Tonight is different.

You're g-g-getting way too close (Oh oh, oh oh) Stop blowin' up my phone (Oh oh, oh oh) Just let me be alone (Oh oh, oh oh) It's gotta come to an end 'Cause what do I tell my friends? What do I tell my friends?

Before you know it Draco is crossing the room and yanking you away from Blaise by the arm, dragging you to an abandoned section of the room.

“What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing?”

“Why are you hovering so close to me?” You ask in frustration as you step back from him. “Sheesh.”

“Sheesh? Sheesh?” He repeats in disbelief and you have to resist the urge to laugh. “Y/N, how much have you had to drink?”

“Not enough apparently, considering I’m standing here with you and not grinding against your better looking counterpart.” You mumble and Draco scoffs.

“Blaise is not better looking than me-“

“Okay Romeo, whatever you say.” You cut him off with a giggle, “Are we done here or was there more?”

“Was there more?” He repeats in a mocking tone, like a child making fun of their childhood friend. “Of course there was bloody more!”

His outburst has you laughing, genuinely laughing, and for a second you see the Draco Malfoy that got you into this mess in the first place. Your funny, good-looking, charming classmate that you accidentally allowed to creep into your heart. But he’s not the real Draco, no, that Draco doesn’t actually exist.

You bring your hand up to cup his cheek and, without even thinking, say “I wish that this was the real you.” He furrows his eyebrows at you, clearly confused, but you continue nonetheless. “I can’t keep doing this Draco, I love you but I love myself more and I can’t allow you to get in the way of my wellbeing any longer.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, “How am I getting in the way of your wellbeing?”

“Tell me that you love me too, right now, say it.” You shrug.

“Y/N, you can’t jus-“

“Okay, tell me that we can go public.” You revert and he swallows.

“Why are you-“

“Fuck, I’ll make it easy for you.” You interrupt him once again and give him a thin smile, “Tell me that what we have is real and that we’re in a relationship.”

He opens his mouth but no words come out and you nod your head awkwardly in understanding.

“Y/N, it’s not that-“

You scoff and shake your head in disbelief, “Your chest is hollow and yet you still have no space for me.”

“No-“

You blink back tears as you continue, “You push away everyone that cares about you and then you turn around and complain about the fact that there’s no one left to root for you. How can I possibly be in your corner when you’re continuously trying to shove me out of it?”

There are tears welling in your eyes but you don’t let them fall, no, he doesn’t deserve to make you cry.

He looks at you in shock and you know that you’re not getting any kind of closure from him. Despite how hard you’d tried to convince yourself otherwise, you had always been nothing more than a warm bed that he could settle into when he was lonely. The fire in you that he’s always admired seems to dwindle whenever you’re beneath his gaze, and now you realise that it’s not fair for you to die out for him.

“I hope you learn to start letting people in.” You whisper before giving him a kiss on the cheek and walking back toward your friends.

He watches you walk away from him and struggles to sort through his thoughts. No, no, no. You can’t leave him, everyone else has already left him. You’re safe, you’re warm, you’re you, and Draco knows that he has feelings for you but how can he possibly convey that when words always get trapped in his throat like a cricket in a shoebox?

He knows what he wants to say to you, the words are scraping against the belt of his mouth like knives ripping through tape on a cardboard box, but how does he get them out, how does he make you understand?

Maybe that’s just it, he doesn’t.

He doesn’t make you understand. He doesn’t get you. He breaks, little by little, with every step you take away from him.

What do I tell my friends? What do I tell my friends? What do I tell my friends?

“What was that about?” Blaise asks in your ear and you roll your eyes as you pull back to look at him.

“Draco being immature, nothing important.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Blaise smiles sheepishly. “I was worried that maybe something was going on between you two.”

You smile brightly at the boy as you bring his hands down to your waist and sway to the music. “Why would that worry you Zabini?”

“I’m kind of into you.” Blaise whispers before bringing his lips down to connect with yours.

You don’t notice, too engulfed in the feeling of Blaise’s lips against yours, but across the room Draco’s eyes are focused quite intently on you and Blaise. When the two of you kiss Draco drops the glass that he had been holding, and he thinks that maybe he’s that glass; being smashed to smithereens.

~~~

Okay, I’ll stop with angst now... (maybe) I have the sudden desire to write fluff so the sequel to ‘Falling Out Of Love With Astoria Greengrass’ will definitely be wholesome and fluffy.

I’m probably not going to post again for a few days, I’m a bit worn out rn, but I’ll be back to writing soon!

anyway, love you all

jean <3

[eijirohno]

alright so he’s blocked me so I can’t reply to the original thread but here’s my full story. My name is Miki Moon, I’m 19, and I want to tell the whole truth.

PrincelyMagik/HimboKing/Jesse is a toxic individual, and their server Apex HQ is his personal arena for shit stirring: a thread

Update: (Monday, November 2, 2020) he’s since changed his discord to ParanoiaIncarnate#0796 and his tumblr is now HimboKing

Let’s start at the very beginning. About a week ago, Jesse invited me to Apex HQ, immediately obsessed upon meeting me in another server, and introduced me to Apex HQ as “the girl he’s been simping for” and according to Jesse himself and his friends, I was the subject of conversation in several calls, streams, and chats, and members of the server recognized me even though they hadn’t met me

Jesse basically would ask me to show pictures of myself, like selfies and mirror photos of my outfits to the chat and then encouraged other members to comment on my appearance along with him while he called me things like ‘Hot Lady’, and associated most everything about me with my appearance.

other members of the server would speak to me and he’d tell them to stop it or would make them delete messages if they got too flirty for his tastes, even though I hadn’t expressed romantic interest in him whatsoever.

On October 28th, Thursday, he private messaged me

(I attempted to gently reject him and change the subject. This was my second mistake, after allowing myself to be sexualized and degraded)

After this point, Jesse began treating me differently, and essentially ignored me or talked over me. On Friday, after what I thought was a teasing, playful conversation, I left my phone for a short moment to attend to something personal, and Jesse had assumed I went away because of something he’d said bc I jokingly said “nvm Gn!!!” in character as Ferdinand

He privately messaged me and said we need to talk, and while confused, I agreed and asked what was up. He then told me I’d talked over several members of the server, was annoying and an attention whore, and mentioned a conversation and a minor issue I thought had already been resolved and moved past.

I attempted to explain I hadn’t realized I had been ‘problematic’ and tried to apologize and ask questions for my own clarification. I was informed I was guilt tripping and not being genuine.

This private dm was also being screen shared to other mods without my prior consent. (And Jesse intended it to be without my knowledge but I wasn’t dumb enough to not see the chat and that his status said ‘sharing their screen’) and they spent about thirty minutes calling me a liar and a fake and tried to say I was dragging names of other mods. I hadn’t.

I reluctantly agreed to an ultimatum that basically told me to stay quiet unless I could stay ‘on topic’ or I would be banned. They tried to force me into silence, and refused to both listen to my apologies and speak to me privately.

after this, I returned to the chat after a short break and continued like normal, and no one in the chat had been notified of anything I’d supposedly done- yet. I carried on conversation like normal both Friday night and Saturday morning

Early Saturday morning I reached out to another mod privately, and apologized to them. They ss my conversation and forwarded it to Jesse, who messaged me Saturday afternoon.

He sent a private dm telling me to “play nice” and when I said that my conversation with the other mod was none of his business (since it wasn’t in the server) and he then decided I was being “hostile and feigning offense” and he was “tired of my shit”

He then proceeded to try to goad an argument out of me, but by midday Saturday I’d already started receiving information as to what kind of person he is, so when I told him I knew what games he was playing and that his mind games wouldn’t work on me- he jumped straight to insulting me and called me a bitch bc i said it was like the drama I experienced back in high school.

After that, he banned me, sent a violent gif, and told his server they’d confirmed I harassed mods and was a fake individual who lied and faked my whole personality and everything I said- which was absolutely NOT true

This image was sent to me by a friend in the server who has since been banned for defending me.

Several former victims and friends of Jesse have since reached out to me, and confirmed I’m not the only person who has experienced this. In fact, I’m the fourth documented person to have problems with Jesse in Apex HQ alone.

Yesterday, before he blocked me on tumblr as well, I’d made this thread underneath where he advertised Apex HQ to hopefully prevent anyone else from experiencing the hell that is that server as well as ‘friendship’ with Jesse. Someone close to him reached out, only knowing his side of the story, and accused me of lying, with only the ss of the later argument that Jesse had shown them.

I’ve since shown them more of the ss, as well as some other information, and they deleted their reply and made amends, which I’m grateful for. I hope this makes some of the others still in the server realize the truth as well. I’m more than happy to share evidence and proof to anyone who doubts me.

Please. Stop viewing his twitch streams. Don’t join this server. Take away his power over smaller or newer Apex fans. DNI with him if you kin Felix. He will sexualize you because he associates you with Felix.

[putseraphinaonthaphone]

That's on Me | Revised Fic Pt. I

based on the thirst about Izuku wanting to beat the pussy because it's too good up by @awilddreamerwrites

cw// everyone is aged up to third years, quirk use during sex, innocence kink, m/m, anal play, d/s dynamic, creampies, sloppy seconds, threeway, group sex, Bakugo x Reader in an established relationship, queer reader who uses feminine descriptors (Bakugou calls you his girl/woman in intimate scenes where there's already pre-established consent to do so, pussy, tits, etc) but he/him pronouns, BakuDeku Poly dynamic w/ reader endgame

There was always tension in the air when the three of you were in the same room, different than the preceding energy of one of your boyfriend's explosive outbursts. More like the smell of a storm in the air, like lightening followed by earthshaking thunder.

Deku would look at Kacchan, and Kat would look at Deku, and Deku would look at you and Kat didn't really mind and why didn't he mind?!

If anyone came in he would start barking at Deku to 'get his eyes off his boyfriend before he blows his face off,' but if you happened to time it perfectly and you three were the only ones in the common room..

Your boyfriend didn't growl at you to cover up if you were wearing his boxers that molded indecently to your ass beneath his shirt, in fact he groped at your curves possesively- delighting in the way Deku watched every movement of his hand on your ass while you cuddled into him.

So when Deku burst into Kat's dorm room while you were face down, ass up and getting absolutely railed-- it seemed like the final straw snapped in all three of you.

"Get in here and shut the fucking door nerd." Your boyfriend growled at Deku who was already doing so without having to be asked. He came closer to the bed, entranced by the filthy squelching of the blond's cock in your soaking wet pussy.

"You've always got an eye on my- ngh- fucking girl, Deku. Imagined him like this didn't you?" Even though his words should've been angry, it sounded more like the dirty words he growled at you that lit your pussy on fire. Your boyfriend was fucking you stupid but you tried your best to call out to the greenet, wanting him to know that you wanted him here (as much as Kat did if he let himself admit it.)

"'Zuku," you couldn't help the way your voice came out fucked and whimpering when Kat was rearranging your guts with a vengance.

"Fucking slut, why is your cunt getting tighter on my cock when you say his name?" His accusing tone was rendered meaningless because his cum started filling your cunt as he hammered into you, making you cum around him to milk every drop of seed from his balls as they smacked against your ass.

"Because he wants me to take a turn at his pussy." The utter confidence in Izuku's earnest voice made your pussy clench around Kat's slowly softening girth. He pulled out of your pussy and let you collapse tiredly on the bed, sprawled out like the perfect little whore you were tempting them both to ruin you. He kissed your temple and grumbled a 'traitor' under his breath before turning to face Deku.

The greenet had his dick out and a scarred hand wrapped around it, and it made Kat's cheeks dark to see that he didn't try to hide himself. He keep stroking a cock that made both of you revel in your inner size queens, and the little sound he made when he grabbed his own heavy balls made Kat sport a half chub quick enough to make him dizzy from the blood loss.

But he had to pull himself together, if he was going to make this work with his heart and dignity in tact.

"And why the fuck do you think I'd let you?" He challenged, green eyes clashing with red as the two stood too close for their posture to be aggressive.

It was intimate, like they shared a center of gravity and couldn't help but be drawn together.

"Please, Katsu, Zuku.." You whimpered, your eyes heavy lidded and pleading as you rolled onto your back- pulling one knee up so that they could both see Kat's cum leaking out of your hole. "Stop fighting. I want all of us to fuck in as many permutations as possible before I can't take anymore. Got it?" Your demand was spoken with only a few moans and whimpers as you fingered your stretched pussy, knowing one of them would break and you'd get what you needed.

"Do you have a condom or.. can you swear to me that you're clean?" Kat looked at Deku seriously, and Deku's breathed hitched by the intensity of those red eyes on him. His rhythm with his hand stuttered before he was able to nod with honesty ringing in his voice as he answered,

"I'm clean, Kacchan. I swear. I wouldn't put him.. or you at risk like that. And.. no one compared to you two. I haven't had sex in months." The admission made you whine- you were going to be at the mercy of hasn't-had-his-dick-wet-in-months Izuku? You prayed that you'd be able to walk tomorrow.

"Then go for it. But I'll be watching you. Do a good job and make him cum or you'll never get to fuck his pussy again." The threat made Deku's thick cock spurt more precum as he nodded and made his way to the center of the bed to push both your thighs to your chest. There was no way you'd be able to escape the mating press he put you in, so your pussy gushed realizing you wouldn't really have a choice about being impaled on his cock-which was well over your boyfriends already intimidating 8 inches.

"You think you can be a good girl for me and take it all?" The tip of his cock kiss your cum filled hole, and he looked at you so sweetly when you nodded you could almost forget he was about to split you in half.

You could hear Kat cursing under his breath to the side of you as he pulled up a chair to watch, but you could also hear the shameless sound of spit hitting his hand so he could jack off to the sight of Izuku's muscled form pinning you to the bed. The greenet had grown over his three years at UA, and he was a few inches taller than Kat now, and a lot broader.

His large scarred hands gripped your hips as he started pushing into you, inch by inch until he was buried as far inside you as he could reach- pressing snugly against your cervix and his heavy balls resting against the luscious fat of your ass.

And it was like he saw the face of god. Your dripping, clenching, fluttering heat was the best thing he had ever felt on his dick. Even if he got to put his dick in Kacchan's equally fuckable ass like he dearly wanted to, he didn't think even then it would beat this. This, the perfect and maddening pussy that belonged to Kacchan's beloved boyfriend. His girl.

The pleasure of it, hot as the sun and tinged with something dark and hungry and wild, grabbed him by the base of the spine and infected him with the almost painful craving to rut into you as hard and deep as possible.

"He's so fucking tight," Izuku's filthy moan wasn't even addressed to you, but it made your pussy clench further around his thick girth as he fucked you. There was green lightening crackling around him and his gaze on your was determined as he fucked into you harder- wanting to get as deep into your insatiable, hungry little pussy as he could. He could think of nothing else. Not even Kacchan watching him fuck you, not what this all meant.

Your moans had long since gone past embarrassing but your boyfriend only continued to watch as his childhood best friend fucked orgasm after orgasm out of you, not put off in the slightest by the growing mess off fluids between your lush thighs caused by his generous attention to your throbbing clit.

At some point there was a loud CRACK and the headboard fell to pieces where Izuku had been trying to hold himself up. He had let go of your hips at some point, but the sharp smack of his hips against your ass was a testament to how determined he was to imprint the shape of his dick into you.

"He has the best pussy I've ever fucked. Doesn't it feel like he's trying to milk your load right out of you?" Katsuki grinned ferally with pride at being blessed with such an irresistible partner.

"He's going to," Izuku's bright green eyes meet yours intensely, and you shivered under his gaze as he continued to fuck your overstimulated pussy. Your legs shook around his waist but all he did was fuck you deeper so you couldn't run from it.

"Ah ah ah, don't run, sweetness. Even if I have to break the bed too, I'm making sure all my cum ends up in your tummy.."

Your cervix was hammered so persistently you were sure Izuku's plan was to shoot his cum directly into your womb. By the time he let out the filthiest groan of "ngh- fucking, take it-" all you can get out is a garbled mess of

"yes!" and "'Zuku!" and "baby.."

Katsuki was laying beside you now, watching Deku fight to control his strength as your pussy threatened to undo himcompletely by fluttering and milking him until he was gritting his teeth from the overstimulation. Kat had cum twice all over his own fingers watching Deku being bested by you. He was so high on the thought that his girl could do this to Izuku. Make him look all fucked out, flushed tits heaving as he kneeled over your well fucked form, desperate..

Pretty.

"You look like a fucking slut, Deku." Why did that come out sounding like he was flirting? "You owe me a fucking headboard too dumbass." You watched your boyfriend growl the threat as an after thought, smirking at the blush on his cheeks. When Izuku came back to bed after putting the washcloths he used to clean you both in the bathroom, his eyes trailed over Katsuki's bare chest and low slung basketball shorts with a slight wet spot- his fourth erection of the night making the greenet's mouth water.

"I think I can find a way to make it up to you."

[ibijau]

Concubine nhs pt6 / on AO3

“What if you lived here,” the emperor says as he peppers with kisses the crook of Nie Huaisang’s neck. “I could arrange to give you quarters of your own. You’d get to spend your time as you please, you’d only see the people you want to see, and it’d be easier to be together.”

Nie Huaisang hums, tracing patterns on the other man’s sweaty back, enjoying the warmth and closeness. He’s never actually complained against Nie Funyu, but the emperor might have picked up on his reluctance whenever it’s time to go home. Or maybe he didn’t notice, and just wishes to have him more at his disposition. They’ve counted themselves lucky when they could see each other once a week in the nearly two months since they’ve become lovers. The emperor is often busy during the day, and worries too much about Nie Huaisang’s reputation to make him stay at night. He doesn’t want the Nies to get the wrong idea, he’s explained, even if in this case the wrong idea would be the right one.

It’s sweet of him. The emperor would probably be horrified to learn that Nie Funyu has given him spring books, ‘for inspiration’, and encouraged him to ask for advice to Meng Yao, whose mother was a courtesan.

There are many things the emperor doesn’t need to know.

At least, the war against the Wens seems to be going well. Nie Mingjue has captured a strategic city already… though the Wens apparently have shown signs that they might attack the lands under Jiang Fengmian’s protection, and if they succeed that could be a serious threat to commerce. Nie Huaisang has spent a couple of sleepless nights peering over maps, trying to guess what his brother’s strategy might be. They might need to rely on the armies that are under Jin Guangshan’s command, which won’t be pleasant because he’s a prick and difficult to work with, but his son is engaged to the young lady Jiang, so maybe…

“Huaisang, what do you think then?” the emperor asks, rising on one elbow to look at his lover’s face. “About living here?”

“I think your uncle won’t like it.”

“This isn’t about him, and I’ll deal with him if needed. Do you like it?”

A home of his own wouldn’t be unpleasant, Nie Huaisang figures. It would make it harder for people to order him around, and he wouldn’t have to report everything he does when he’s alone with the emperor. On the downside, it means being forced to follow protocol and learn a whole new set of rules to avoid getting in trouble in the imperial palace, where people are ever so attentive to rank and constantly plotting for their own schemes. It also means losing Meng Yao, the only friend he’s managed to make since coming to the capital.

“I don’t want people to think of you badly,” Nie Huaisang says, and means it. He doesn’t like hearing the emperor insulted. “They’ll say you brought in a servant’s son as your whore when you won’t even take a wife.”

“I don’t want a wife, I want you,” the emperor replies with such sincerity that Nie Huaisang can only smile at him and steal a kiss. The emperor allows that kiss, but ends it before it can turn heated, an air of concern on his face. “If you don’t want to live here, just say no.”

“Hm.”

“But if you’re scared of what people might say, then I’ll make this as official as can be. I can’t take you as my wife, but there have been male concubines in the past. You’d have every honour that I can bestow upon you, a monthly allowance, your own quarters, as many servants as you’d like… People would owe you the same respect they’d owe anyone else in my household.”

That’s probably not as much respect as the emperor thinks. Having lived so much of his life as a servant, Nie Huaisang has overheard a lot of gossip and is only too aware of what people say about that sort of situation. He’s heard his father chat  with his guests about the many whore of their good friend Jin Guangshan, or share stories about the old emperor and his tragic romance that elicited more laughter than compassion. 

And that’s just what nobles share among themselves. Servants are just as ruthless when talking about their masters. Nie Huaisang knows what people said about his father for taking a pretty servant girl into his bed a whole winter, even talking about marrying when she became pregnant, before eventually sending her back to her old job after deciding he didn’t want to divide Nie Mingjue’s inheritance. If Nie Mingjue himself hadn’t become fond of his bastard brother and insisted on seeing him legitimised... and people gossip about that, too.

People are mean.

“What if you change your mind about me?” Nie Huaisang asks.

The emperor looks sad and brings a hand to Nie Huaisang cheek, caressing his face with unbearable tenderness.

“I won’t. I’m sure about the way I feel.”

Nie Huaisang says nothing. People are always sure at first, always ready to say whatever it takes to get a pretty little thing in their bed, until someone prettier comes around and catches their attention…

But the emperor isn’t people. He’s someone who means what he says, and his every action make it clear that this isn’t just about sex. He’s so genuinely happy when they’re chatting, when they’re playing a game, when he gets to make Nie Huaisang try some new food. Even today the emperor was more interested in painting together, and they probably wouldn’t have made love if Nie Huaisang hadn’t seduced him.

Nie Funyu scolded him after the one visit that didn’t end up in bed, accusing him of not putting in the effort, of being selfish, of risking his brother’s life by not giving in to the emperor’s every whims. So now, Nie Huaisang is careful, even though he’s half sure he doesn’t need to be.

The emperor is not like other men.

It’d be easier if he were. It’d be just a transaction, which Meng Yao says is the best way to deal with those situations. When feelings get involved, things become messy, he said, and made Nie Huaisang promise not to do something stupid like falling in love.

It might be too late for that, but Nie Huaisang promised anyway.

“If you don’t want to live here, it’s fine,” the emperor says when Nie Huaisang has been silent for too long. “Just know that I’m willing to give this to you. Anything you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“I want to run away with you,” Nie Huaisang replies too fast. “Far away from here, and hide from everyone we’ve ever known.”

The emperor sits up, a sad smile on his lips. It’s unfair that he’s beautiful even when he’s sad.

It unfair that Nie Huaisang can’t have the only thing he really wants.

“What about your brother?”

Nie Huaisang stretches, and wrinkles his nose. It’s getting late, he realises, looking through the window. He needs to wash and get dressed so he can leave. He doesn’t want to.

“I guess Mingming is allowed to visit us sometimes. But only if he’ll keep the secret.”

With a short laugh, the emperor takes Nie Huaisang’s hand and helps him sit up as well, before stealing a kiss.

“And my brother?”

“I don’t know. Would you miss him?”

“Very much so.”

“Then he can visit as well,” Nie Huaisang generously allows. “In fact, he can even live with us, but he’ll have to do his share of work. Can he hunt?”

“Wangji is a strict vegetarian.”

“So what? Plenty of people eat meat who can’t hunt. He could hunt and not eat meat. I’ve heard people say he’s amazing with a bow. If he lives with us, he can go hunt for rare furs, that will make us some nice money. I can sell my services as an accountant or something of the sort. And you… well, you can just stay home and write poetry, you’re good at that.”

“A kind way to say I don’t have any useful skill!” the emperor complains, pulling him close for a kiss that’s more laughter than anything else. 

For a moment, Nie Huaisang thinks that the kiss will lead to more, but the emperor is too serious and reasonable for that. Instead he gets a soft towel to clean Nie Huaisang’s body until the only traces of their lovemaking are a few red bites. They both have other things to do. The emperor must lead his people, and Nie Huaisang must humiliate himself by sharing more than he’d like about his intimate life with his father's cousin.

As they both get dressed, the emperor chats quietly, trying to figure out when they might be together again. There are some important celebrations coming up, and he needs to hear the grievances of a great number of officials and supplicants because of the trouble caused by the Wens. It probably will be two weeks before he can make time again, if not more.

Two weeks feels like a very long time. Not only will Nie Huaisang miss the emperor, but he’ll have to deal with his cousin’s temper, who is sure to be upset by this long pause in their acquaintance.

“Xichen, I’ve decided what I want,” Nie Huaisang says as he finishes tying his robes. The emperor looks at him with a puzzled air, as if he’s already forgotten what they were talking about. Then, as he remembers, his expression turns hopeful, so much that Nie Huaisang can only smile. “I want to live here, with you. As your concubine, your servant, your whore, I don’t care, I just want…”

He can’t finish, because the emperor crosses the distance between them and kisses him as if his life depends on it. 

They do end up making love again after all. The entire time, the emperor swears he’ll take care of Nie Huaisang, that he’ll protect him, that he loves him,  that they’ll be happy. Life isn’t that simple, but Nie Huaisang can pretend that it is. It’d be nice to be happy.

In his next letter, Father says that the emperor has written to him about taking Nie Huaisang as his concubine, and sent a contract draft regarding that offer. Father then congratulates Nie Huaisang for tricking the emperor so well, and forcing him to make his support of their family as official as if he’d married one of their daughters. That praise leaves him feeling dirty. The emperor is a good man, who doesn’t have to be tricked into doing what he thinks is right, and Nie Huaisang hates that this is how others see their relationship.

The best thing about going to live in the imperial palace, Nie Huaisang decides, is that Father won’t be able to write such cruel things anymore for fear the emperor might see it.

[storiesforallfandoms]

silence ~ lucifer morningstar;lucifer

word count: 2873

request?: no

description: when a new intern at the lapd with a special power meets the devil himself, they both find that their powers are useless against one another

pairing: lucifer morningstar x female!reader

warnings: swearing

masterlist

this is my 666th post, so i thought it was fitting

In retrospect, becoming an intern at the LAPD seemed like a good idea in my head. I thought it might be like those movies where someone with a power like mine proved herself to be useful in police investigations and rose the ranks quickly until she was like a junior detective or something, going around on cases with the cops and helping to figure them out. It seemed like the right way to use my gift instead of just sitting on it and trying to pretend it didn’t exist.

But boy, was I ever wrong.

First, I was never allowed into the interrogation room to face the criminals being brought in, so I couldn’t even use my gift. The one time that I did use it, I had managed to get into the viewing room while an interrogation was happening to bring something to the police chief. One of the detectives was interrogating a suspect and, even through the one way glass, I was able to hear his thoughts. He had no idea what she was talking about, that he hadn’t been anywhere near the crime scene, he wasn’t even in town, when it happened, but the cops weren’t believing his alibi. I thought this was my chance to finally prove myself.

“He’s innocent,” I said, drawing the attention of the police chief and the other detective in the room with me. “He wasn’t even in town. He has out of town alibis, you should call them, they’ll check out.”

I expected the police chief to ask me how I knew, or to even be impressed that I knew so much. I was so proud of myself, until I looked up at the police chief’s face to see he was glowering at me.

“Go back to getting coffee, intern. This isn’t any of your business.”

Of course, I was right. His alibis checked out and he was sent home that evening. Did the police chief tell me that I was right? Did he apologize for brushing me off and ask me how I could possibly know that the suspect was innocent just from a brief glance? No, of course not. Instead, he barked at me to go get him some file on a different active case.

I was debating on quitting. I had never even wanted to be a police officer, far from it actually. I had no reason to stay if no one was going to take me seriously. I even had my noticed written and ready to give to the chief, I just had to work up the courage to face him first.

I was bringing some case files to Detective Decker when I heard an unfamiliar British voice speaking.

“I’m telling you, it was the pimp. He doesn’t have an alibi to confirm his whereabouts the night of the murder, and the dead hooker’s fiancé said that she told him all sorts of stories about the pimp being violent. He’s basically a textbook killer.”

I came around the corner to find a tall, handsome man stood in front of Chloe’s desk. She was rolling her eyes at him as I approached.

“The pimp has no motive, Lucifer, there’s no reason that he’d kill her,” she told him.

Lucifer? I thought. Like the Devil?

“Of course there is! Besides the fact that he’s a violent pimp, the girl was getting married. She wanted to stop working for him, to get a real job so that she could have a real family, that would make any pimp pissed off.”

Chloe looked past Lucifer and smiled at me. “Hey (Y/N). You got those files for me?”

I nodded and handed them to her. As I did so, a smirk appeared on Lucifer’s face. “Well, well, well, what do we have here?”

“Lucifer, this is the precinct’s intern, (Y/N). (Y/N), this is my partner, Lucifer,” Chloe introduced us. She shot Lucifer a lot upon seeing him looking me up and down. “Please do not scare her away, I like her a lot.”

I smiled brightly at Chloe.

“I’m not going to scare her away,” Lucifer insisted. “I just wanted to get to know her. You’ve been keeping the pretty intern a secret from me, you naughty girl.”

I could hear Chloe’s internal groan as she rolled her eyes yet again. Lucifer put a hand on my shoulder and turned me to face him. He looked deeply into my eyes and I could feel my heart racing.

“Now, little intern (Y/N), you don’t want to just be an intern here, do you?” I shook my head. What kind of question was that? I don’t think anyone wanted to be an intern anywhere. It was just where you started until you could climb the ranks. “No, of course not. There’s something more you want in life, something juicier than bringing coffee to lazy cops. Now, tell me...what is it that you truly desire?”

I looked into Lucifer’s eyes and I could see that he was expecting something from me. I eyed Chloe in confusion. “Is this a joke or something?”

Chloe let out a laugh as Lucifer’s face twisted in confusion.

“Looks like we’ve found someone else who’s immune to your charms, Lucifer,” Chloe laughed.

I broke free from Lucifer’s hold and turned to Chloe. “I wasn’t eavesdropping, but I heard you talking about the murder you two are looking into. Are you still questioning the pimp?”

“We have him in the interrogation room, but he’s not talking,” Chloe sighed. “He keeps saying he was home that night, but he lives alone so no one there can confirm if he was, and his neighbours say they didn’t see him that night but he could possibly have been home.”

“Which he wasn’t, he was out murdering our dead hooker,” Lucifer commented. Chloe glared at him as he spoke.

“If you’re going to talk to him again do you think I could...come with you?” I asked. “I think I could be helpful.”

“Of course!” Chloe said. “You’d be more helpful than Lucifer, that’s for sure.”

In her head, I could see the previous interrogation of their prime suspect; in which Lucifer spent most the time accusing the suspect of being the murderer until the pimp finally said he didn’t want to speak with Chloe anymore unless it was just the two of them.

Chloe nodded for me to join her as she walked towards the interrogation room. I nearly skipped with excitement as I followed her into the room. Sitting on one side of the metal table was a young looking guy, probably in his early 20s, wearing jeans that were at least two sizes too big and a wife beater tank top. When the door to the interrogation room opened, he looked up. His eyes immediately landed on me and a gross smirk spread across his face.

“You brought me some eye candy,” he mused as he looked me up and down. “Hey sweetness, if you ever get tired of being good you should come find me.”

I tried not to gag as Chloe said, “That’s enough. We’re not here for you to stare at us, we’re here to get to the bottom of Destiny’s murder.”

“I told you and your crazy ass partner that I didn’t kill her!” he snapped. “Just because no one saw me at home doesn’t mean I was the one who killed her.”

“I know that,” Chloe said, “and we’re not accusing you of anything. It’s just our jobs, when there’s no alibis to confirm your story we can’t just let you go. Especially not when Destiny has reported you for violence in the past.”

“That’s bullshit!” the pimp snapped. “I have never hit any of my girls! I love them like they was my family. If I ever hit Destiny, it was in self defence. The bitch was crazy!”

I looked into his head to see he was thinking of the last time he saw Destiny. It was when she told him about her engagement, and she was telling him she wanted to quit the prostitution business so she could have a real family. He got angry, lashed out and hit her. It was one punch, but he gave her a black eye. She began to cry and he hit her again, this time a slap, and called her a whore. It took another many restraining him to get him to finally back off of her.

“He’s lying,” I said, causing both Chloe and the pimp to look at me in shock. “The last time he saw Destiny he gave her a black eye.”

“That’s not true,” the pimp said, although the look on his face and the uncertainty in his voice said otherwise.

“Actually, that matches with a report the police got from Destiny just a few days before she died,” Chloe said, pulling a sheet of paper from the file. “It says here that she called the police on you to report an assault. You also claimed self defense then.”

“It was self defense!”

“Then where are the marks that Destiny left on you?” I asked.

He went silent then. Chloe and I smirked, we had him right where we wanted him.

“Now that we’ve gotten that out of you,” Chloe said, “let's try this again; where were you on the night of Destiny’s murder?”

“I was home,” he insisted, although now the cocky tone of his voice was gone. “I worked until like 2am, making sure any of the girls that were out got back and paid what they owed, then I went home. I crashed almost immediately, didn’t wake up until 12pm the next day.”

To my disappointment, the scene playing out in his head showed he was telling the truth. I saw him collecting money from his other call girls, then returning home for the night. The clock on his bedside table read “2:50am” before it went blank and he fell asleep. I looked over at the file on Destiny’s death to see that they placed her murder around 3am.

“He’s telling the truth,” I sighed. “He was at his home at 2:50am, just ten minutes before Destiny was murdered.”

Chloe looked at me in shock again. “How do you know that?”

I gave her a small smile and shrugged a little. “I have a gift.”

I dismissed myself, feeling as though I had nothing else to offer. I was walking with my head a little higher and feeling a little prouder knowing I had finally put my gift to some use, when I felt someone grab me and pull me into a nearby empty office. I was slammed against a wall, knocking the air out of me. I wasn’t ready for a fight, but luckily for me there wasn’t going to be one, as the perpetrator was none other than Lucifer.

“What are you?” he asked.

“Dizzy,” I responded, blinking to try and get my head straight.

“No, I mean what are you? How did you know those things about the pimp?”

I pushed Lucifer off of me, straightening my clothes and finally able to compose myself. “Not that you’d believe me, but I’m able to read minds. I have been ever since I was young. I wanted to put that to good use so I applied to work here to try and help with the investigations, but unfortunately detectives don’t take interns too seriously.”

Lucifer circled me like a shark circling his prey, looking at me with confusion. I felt him beginning to pull up my shirt and I quickly batted his hand away. “What the hell man! Back off!”

“I just wanted to see if you had wings!” he responded.

“What? Why would I have wings?”

“Because no mortal human should be able to do what you do. The gift you have has only ever been held by an angel.”

I rolled my eyes and turned my back to him, pulling up my shirt just enough that he could see my bare lower back. “Well, sorry to disappoint, but I am just a mortal human. No angel wings here.”

As I began to tuck my shirt back into my pants, I realized that the room was silent. Like, actually silent. I couldn’t hear Lucifer thinking, which was strange. No one ever had just a blank mind, everyone was always constantly thinking, whether it was about their friends, family, what they were going to eat later, things stressing them out, relationships or lack thereof. People were always thinking, so there was always a dim hum in my mind of the voices of those around me speaking.

But not Lucifer. I couldn’t hear what he was thinking of me as he eyed my back again in confusion.

“I can’t hear you,” I breathed.

“I’m not speaking,” he told me.

“No, I know you’re not speaking, but I can’t...I can’t hear your thoughts.” I looked at him, curiously. “What are you?”

“The Devil,” he responded, plainly, as if it should be obvious. And maybe it should have, his name was Lucifer after all.

“Wait, like...like the Devil? Satan himself?”

“Oh, don't use that nickname, it’s my least favourite.” He paused a moment before adding, “Wait, do you actually believe me?”

“Of course,” I responded with a shrug. “I mean, I’m a mind reader. Who am I to say that angels and demons don’t exist?”

Lucifer let out a slight laugh, one which I mirrored. I leaned against the wall behind me while Lucifer leaned against the desk. We were both watching each other, intently.

“You’re the first person to believe that I’m actually the Devil,” he told me.

“You can’t blame others for not believing, most people think all that stuff is made up, or it’s impossible for angels and demons to walk among us, even the religious people,” I said. “You’re the first person to believe me without having to get proof.”

“Well, to be fair, I did just watch you interrogating a pimp and cause him to deflate quicker than a popped balloon,” he pointed out. “Have you ever had trouble reading minds before?”

I shook my head. “Never. For as long as I can remember, I’ve always been able to hear people’s thoughts. It’s kind of refreshing to just be in the silence right now, honestly.”

“I can imagine. How many dates were ruined with that little gift of yours?”

I couldn’t help but laugh at that thought. There was definitely more than a few dates ruined because the guy would show up and either think She looks nothing like I thought she would, or, halfway through the date, would stay picturing what I looked like naked and how nice it would be to hear me moan their name.

“Let’s just say I’ve never had a stable relationship,” I responded. “The last guy I managed to be with for longer than a few dates thought about breaking up with me on numerous occasions, but never did. I decided to see how long he would go thinking about how unhappy he was in the relationship until he finally broke up with me. Turns out, as long as it took to sleep with his best girl friend that he always told me not to worry about.”

Lucifer winced. “That’s rough.”

I shook my head. “It was actually satisfying to see the colour drain from his face when I told him I knew every unhappy thought he had, and that I knew he had cheated. I warned him I could read minds, but he never believed me. He did after that.”

The two of us stood in silence for some time. I wondered what you were supposed to say when you found out you had met the actual Devil, if there was anything to say. Had Lucifer told anyone else? Did anyone actually believe that he was the Devil? Judging by his earlier comment, probably not, but there had to be at least one.

I sighed and stood straight again. “I gotta go back to work. If I’m not at the police chief’s every beck and call he loses his mind.”

I rolled my eyes for dramatic effect, then started to leave the office. Before I could, Lucifer quickly stood and reached a hand out to grab my arm.

“Wait! Before you go, I actually own a club, it’s called Lux. You might’ve heard of it.” I nodded because of course I had, who hadn’t heard of Lux? It was like the biggest club in town. “Well, if you don’t have plans tonight, maybe you could stop by. We could get to know each other a bit better. You could tell me the dirty secrets of all my patrons.”

I chuckled. “The Devil doesn’t know the dirty secrets of everyone in the world?”

“Of course not, that’s far too much information for one Devil to handle.”

I smiled and considered his offer. Why not? It could be fun, right? Partying with the Devil for a night? Who could say they had done that, and actually meant it.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll see you tonight, 9:00 work for you?”

Lucifer smiled. “That sounds lovely to me.”

[ac3id]

Can i request Oikawa + jealousy sex?

Can i request Oikawa + jealousy sex?

idk,,, i feel like this is a little rushed 😔 anyways I hope you like it, maybe I'll turn it into a full fic.

pairings: oikawa tooru x female reader [haikyu]

warnings: nsfw, fingering in public,

oikawa doesn’t get jealous easily. he knows you have a standard, and that you wouldn’t go behind any guy that makes you feel special. after all, you choose him– and he’s, like, the best.

but sometimes you manage to bring the worst out of him. and at times like this, he never fails to show who you belong too.

even though he was your boyfriend, he couldn’t help but feel he was third wheeling a date. with you and iwaizumi lost in your own world, laughing and giggling at jokes which weren’t even funny. he wondered wether you were doing this on purpose.

were you still mad at him? he said he was sorry, yeah sure it didn’t sound that convincing but he was sorry. besides, it was silly arugruing about how it wasn’t that big of deal that he used up all of the shampo– it’s literally just shampo! just get a new one.

he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you, you were really testing his patience. leaning towards iwaizumi while he was sitting right next you.

“really? i didn’t know that!” you chuckled, grinning at the dark haired man, sending jealously running through oikawa’s veins. unable to bear it any longer, he sneaks his hand down on your thighs and under your skirt while slowly inching it upwards until his fingers were petting your clothed cunt.

you send side glares at him, even reaching your hand down to push his away but he does not budge. iwaizumi keeps you both busy with a conversation, not even letting you confront him.

after getting bored, he slips his fingers in your panties, running digits down your slit making you gasp. “are you okay?” iwaizumi asks, noticing your visible discomfort. you open your mouth to answer but oikawa chooses rub his fingers on your little clit, making you moan. you barely manage to cover it up with a cough before you answer, “no, i’m fine. it’s nothing.”

iwaizumi looks unsure but he lets it slide nodding and letting his attention slide back to oikawa, chatting away about volleyball. you bite your lip, your nails digging into oikawa’s hand as he dips his fingers lower and lower until it rests over your pretty hole. he slowly dips it inside, pushing past you tight opening. your velvety walls hugging his larger digits, pulling them in deeper.

he starts pumping his fingers into your cunt, not giving you even a moment to adjust. turning his face to your direction, he gives you a sly smirk before turning back to iwaizumi. he acts like everything is normal, like he isn’t pounding your cunt with his fingers under the table while you wither in your seat.

iwaizumi’s phone lights up ringing and he rushes to answer it. placing it next to his ear and talking to the person at the end of the line, he gives you both an apologetic look before rushing out of his seat. you can only guess it was some sort of an emergency.

oikawa nibbles on your earlobe. touching his lips next to your ears, whispering, “are you having fun, princess?” his ministrations under the table become bolder as he pounds his fingers into your stupid pussy faster and harder.

just as he feels your precious cunt squeezing around him, he withdraws his fingers. a fitting punishment for you flirting with his bestfriend, he thinks. you whine, asking him why he stopped. he shrugs and with a lazy grin he says, “i don’t know. i figured you’d like it better if it was iwa-chan instead of me.”

“why are you doing this?” you whine as his digits pick up the pace and bring you close to your climax. “why? hm, i just feel like it.” you can tell he’s lying but the way his fingers brush against your cervix, and how the coil in your stomach tightens every second coming closer, makes you give zero shits about it. you only whine quietly, trying not to divert to much attention towards the two of you. oikawa hums the melody of some song stuck in his head while his other hand plays with your hair as he rests his head on your shoulder. to anyone else the sight would have looked cute but little would they know about the impure intentions. he sits close to you so he can hear you little mewls, rejoicing in them.

your eyes widen as you slam your hand against your forehead in realisation, “is this what it’s about? you’re jealous.” you groan turning back to oikawa giving him a small glare. he huffs, “i’m not jealous. you just seem to having a lot of fun– with iwazumi being here. do you want to fuck him?”

you gasp, not being able to believe his spineless accusations. “no, i don’t. maybe, he’s kind of hot. but i love you and only you, tooru,” you voice is soft while you call out his name and seems to do the trick. he gives you a small smile, planning to say something but iwazumi returns from his call, pressing a halt on the conversation.

“sorry guys, had to take it. it was from work,” he says taking his seat back, opposite from the two of you. “what’s going on here?” he asks.

oikawa smiles, stealing a quick glance at you before turning to iwazumi, “you know, iwa-chan,” he says your name with his fingers quietly making its way back beneath your skirt and under your panties. “thinks you’re very hot.” he sings. iwazumi’s heat up, a blush forming on his cheeks as he looks at you with wide eyes.

you pinch at oikawa’s arm unsure of what he’s thinking. “i–that’s not,” you struggle to answer. blood rushes up to your face as oikawa starts again, “she also wants to fuck you, iwa–chan. don’t you think she’s a little bit of a whore?”

you watch him with glassy eyes, begging for him to stop. his fingers under your skirt fuck you harder while he talks about you to iwazumi lewdly, telling him about what you are like during bed, humiliating you. you still can’t understand what he’s planned but as you cum on your panties by his fingers, you know there’s a lot more he’s going to be doing to you.

[chayacat]

Devil’s Sweet Star (20)

Fandom: Dead by Daylight

Ghostface x Female Reader  

Rated M for Violence, Language and Smut  

***

All artists have a muse. An inspiration. Motivation, unwavering will. A signature of their own. It’s impossible to copy the work of an artist, because he always leaves a part of himself, a small detail, whether in the choice of shapes, lines, colors, etc., which allows us, little observers to recognize his work. We could take the example of Vincent Van Gogh, Pablo Picasso, Sandro Botticelli, Michelangelo, Andy Warhol and finally Salvador Dali. All these artists had a particular signature, a little something that made their works unique, inimitable. Yet many have tried to reproduce them in order to make money. And even if some of them succeeded, they quickly found themselves behind bars.

But Danny is an... Particular artist. His works are particularly... Bloody. Certainly, he’s an assassin, but an assassin who wants to leave behind a trace of his passage, a piece of him in this vast world. Something that will remind everyone that he existed. At least Ghostface existed. But if every artist has a muse... What's Danny's muse? To tell the truth... He's got two. The first is simply envy. His insatiable urge for blood, to hear the gentle howls of his victims and to see the authorities tearing their hair out in the face of the lack of clues, is the reason he does this. As for his second muse...

Well, his second muse is you. For him, you are a precious jewel that he must protect at any price. No one should approach you and he won't let anyone near you. Of course, you will have the right to have friends, but don't plan to spend too much time without him. Besides, he feels frustrated that you prefer Jed to him. His alter ego is so boring compared to him! And yet how many times did he tell you? How many times did he tell you to think carefully?

And yet you chose Jed. But what happened that night ... He will remember it forever. Those little chills he felt on your skin when his tongue ran through your belly, your chest. And your little moans...A twisted smile appeared on his face just thinking about it. He's going to make you languish, but he's going to enjoy himself. And if you change your mind... it is beyond the seventh heaven that he will take you.

But for now, he has a more urgent matter to deal with. Because tonight is the big night. Everything was ready. Hoggins had brought charges to McKellan, who of course had retaliated strongly. How does Danny know? It's a journalist don't forget it. During one of his nightly visits, he had spied on a conversation between the two men and judging by McKellan's tone, the exchange was muscular.

“it's been so long that I've been waiting for this moment ... You dared to attack my angel in front of me. It's time for you to pay. I'm going to make you the best masterpiece ever created." He said, looking at McKellan house.

He had checked everything. He knew everything by heart. The round of the guards, the presence of the camera, McKellan's habits... absolutely everything. No surveillance camera.... humph, he thinks he's so untouchable that he doesn't feel the need to have security cameras. Poor fool. You're going to bitterly regret your arrogance. And Hoggins is going to pay the price.

It does not enchant Danny to attribute this murder to another, but if it is to see Wilhelm go round in circles, the game is worth it. He had parked his van in a place well out of sight. McKellan's villa is a staple, isolated from the city. No neighbourhood, no one to see or hear anything except the guards. Danny will never understand the rich and their desire to get away from people. Even if in a way, it feels good to have nothing around you, except the birdsong and the rustling of the leaves. But for these people, it's mostly a way not to mix with the "plebe".

He put on his mask and proceeded to the villa discreetly. It's time for the show. It's time for the massacre. From the bushes of the rear terrace, he watched the guards stationed. He knows that in a few minutes they will move to the sides and go around up to him. He must therefore move forward without being spotted to the building. And indeed after a few minutes, the guards moved. They always start at the inside of the terrace before returning from the outer sides. It was therefore cautiously but without concern that Danny advanced, not without paying attention to the flashlight that often came in his direction. Once near the walls, he glanced inside.  

As expected, it was impossible to get in from the back as the number of guards was too large. But he knows where McKellan's office is, and he knows that in exactly 20 minutes, he's going to go to his office and lock himself in and listen to music. He always puts the volume to the fullest, a significant advantage since so no one will hear him scream. He will be the only one who has the privilege of hearing it. Perfect. Once he's dead, Danny will have exactly 1 hour to make his masterpiece and leave because the guards will start suspecting a problem because of the music. Obviously, their boss listens to it every day for the same time. So, if it goes beyond the usual time slot, it's not normal.

Danny passed on the right side of the villa, on the side of which McKellan's office should be. And indeed, the second window of the office is open, surely to ventilate the room. He climbed to the gutter and clung to the balcony to enter the room. And the least we can say, is that this was to be the richest room in the house. He had something in common with Hoggins.

The walls were white marble making the room brighter. The many decorations in gold and red, as well as carpet flooring of the same color, recalled the time of ancient Rome. The few sculptures also for that matter.

“A passionate man of Ancient Rome... that will make my pleasure even more... Living. He will not only be my best masterpiece... but also the masterpiece of this room. It would almost bother me to soil this place of his filthy carcass and pig's blood. But he has to pay for touching and insulting my little angel...my precious love.” He said looking all around the room.  

He saw multiple objects that could be used for him, including multiples knife that look much sharper than his own. He could steal them but Ghostface is not a thief. He had taken a rope that he had found in the garden shed a few nights earlier. Like all the strings he took... this one will help him keep his "work" still.

He had the diagram of his artistic project in mind, with every little detail, of what he was going to cut to what he was going to leave whole ... Nothing much. He looked where he could hide and wait to strike. The cabinet in front of the desk will be the ideal hiding place. As soon as he will be close enough... he will catch him. Suddenly he heard footsteps. McKellan is on his way. Danny hides in the cupboard and waited. McKellan entered, furious as ever.

“Hoggins asshole... after all the services I have rendered to you to enrich yourself like a fat pig, you dare to accuse me?? I should cut your balls off... And this little whore and her damn coffee... not only has it not closed but it also gains in reputation! I'm surrounded by fools.” He said heading to the CD player. “Maybe I should kidnap her and torture her...or sell her as a prostitute...I’m sure that she can make a lot of money...”

Danny's blood was boiling. How dare he imagine for a second making you a toy for filthy fat pigs???  For a bonus profit??? He wanted to jump on him now, he wanted to slit his throat, butcher him, tear him to pieces... But if he goes out now, the guards will hear him and his whole plan will fall apart. He's got to stay calm. He's got to stick to the plan. As soon as he's at the cabinet level... he can attack. McKellan set the music on and turned the sound loud enough for the guards outside the room to hear it. Either he's deaf or he's crazy. Or both.

He stood for a few minutes in front of the reader before starting to "waltz" with his eyes closed. He reached the level of the cabinet and once in his line of sight, Danny went out to knock him out with a blow. He used the rope to tie him to the chair. He knows that from now on, he has 1 hour to do what he has to do. And he intends to take advantage of it. McKellan awoke after five minutes, trying to get away. The music was too loud for anyone to hear, so he looked at the knives but was quickly attract by a sinister sneer.

“Well, well... You finally woke up. You have a beautiful office. In fact, you have a very nice house, I would almost be jealous if it were not yours. Such a beautiful home for a rotten man like you... It's a shame.” said Danny, playing with his knife.

“You...I should be honoured by your presence... but unfortunately, I'm not very friendly with psycho like you. Hoggins sent you, didn't he? he's just a bastard.” Said McKellan with disgust.

“Sorry to tell you, but I'm not a man you can hire... I am acting and I will always act on my own. See if I'm here... it's because you and I have to settle.” Replied Danny before sticking his knife in McKellan's leg, making him scream.  

“YOU LITTLE SHIT!!! I’M GONNA CUT YOU HEAD OUT!!!!

“You see... You attacked someone very precious to me... and if there is one thing, I hate more than anything in this world... is that a rotten man like you, touch on what belongs to me. I'm sure you're wondering who I'm talking about. The "whore" as you like to call her, the boss of the Nebula... No luck for you... She's mine. And I'm going to make you regret every word you say. I hope you enjoyed your last musical moments... But don't worry... I intend to make you the masterpiece of your collection. And my best signing. Let the show begin.  

He cut off the leg where he had planted the knife, with a dry blow, recovering it before it fell to the ground. He did the same with the second and put it all on the desk. He stopped for a few seconds to listen to McKellan's delicious screams about the "tragic" loss of both legs. What sweet music to his ears... But unfortunately, he can't enjoy it very long, he has a countdown to respect.

“Oh... It hurts? I'm really sorry... I should have gone more slowly to lengthen the pleasure. But don't worry... I still have material. And limbs to cut you up. It's too bad you can't see that.”

“Please please ! I... I will give much more If you kill Hoggins for me!  I can make you the richest and the happiest man in this pathetic city! All the women will fall at your feet! You don't need that little slut! She's good for nothing! Just a little whore who thinks she's going to make a career!”

" I don't think you understood. I'm going to tell you one last time. One...” Danny started, planting his knife in one of McKellan’s arms. “I don't work for ANYBODY. If you think I'm just a puppet, I want you to know that I'm just for myself. I'm only doing this for my one and only pleasure. Never, and I say NEVER, would I work for anyone, even less for a rotten man of your kind. But if it makes you feel any better, Hoggins is going to come and keep you company in hell. Two...”

He thrust his knife deep into MacKellan’s arm to keep him awake until he finished talking to him. He drew his face closer to his.

“I only need one woman and that's her. I won't let anyone.... ANYONE, treat her like a good-for-nothing. You threatened her, assaulted her, you even sent someone several times to kill her. She is mine and only MINE and I will not let anyone near my angel, you fat pig!”

Danny pulled his knife out of Mackellan’s arm before repeatedly stabbing McKellan's skull. He recoiled inwardly at the sight of this bloodied, lifeless skull. He cut off his arms, then cut off his tongue and cut off his belly like a pig. He took out all these innards, cut them to a certain length and used them to tie his victim once again, one end ending deep in the throat, like a snake coming out of his mouth. He made sure to hold his arms and legs on the top of the skull, like deer antlers. How can he do that? A magician never reveals his secrets. Once his work was finished, Danny took out his camera.

“Look at you, you’re a masterpiece....MY masterpiece! You get exactly what you deserve you Motherf*cker. Now my little angel is safe...Almost if we count me in the lot. Well! Smile for the camera!”  Danny said before taking a picture. “Oh, I almost forgot the message! It’s necessary to give a lead to this dear Wilhelm ... even a fake one. Hoggins... You might not like the next few days.”

He wrote a bloody message on one of the walls of the office, leaving the policeman and the guard thinking that Hoggins was the author. One way or another. Then he quickly but discreetly left the premises before the guards were alerted by the unusual extension of the music. He returned to his van, changed, put his Ghostface outfit and mask back in the bag before heading home. On the road, he couldn't help but stop and burst out laughing, a laugh as he thought about what he had just done. The adrenaline was still running through his veins, he could not calm down.

He took a few minutes to calm down, then take the road again and went home. He parked and looked at your window. Everything was off and given the time, it was normal. Everyone was asleep, no one to testify anything to the police. Everything is always perfect. He went up to his apartment, entered, closed the door and walked to his office with his bag in his hand. He put it all down on the couch and looked at his hunting board, a satisfied smile on his lips.

He took his red felt, which was still working despite the rage of the last time, and bared McKellan's face with a long cross. That's it. He's finally dead. And there's more to kill. Hoggins is next on the list. But Danny will let time pass before attacking him. For now, he's going to focus on you. His sweet little star, his precious love, his angel. He looked at his bag, perhaps a little visit is necessary? Anyway, you sleep then ... you're not likely to say much.

A light cool wind entered your room, but it didn't seem to bother you. You were warm in your duvet with a radiant smile on your lip. Danny, or rather Ghostface was above you, a big smile behind his mask. He stayed for a few minutes without moving before lifting his mask slightly to kiss your cheek delicately.

“You can finally sleep easy, my angel. That fat pig won't do anything to you anymore. But never forget that you belong to me. Sleep well my love, hoping I'll be in your dreams.” he whispered so you don't wake up.

He put a small piece of paper on your nightstand to warn you of McKellan's death. The word is simple: "He's dead." He knows you will understand who it is. He left as discreetly as he had come, to go to bed as well, despite the little adrenaline he had left. It's going to be a long night.

But Damn it was so delicious.

***

(I'm practically about to pass my code exam! I'm so happy! hoping we won't be confined to the date where I'll pass it. I want to thank you all as much as you are, you are almost 40 to follow the poor little French potato that I am! In the meantime, I hope you will love this chapter as much as the others! they all deserve to be appreciated so much! Have a great weekend to you all! See ya!)

[shadowfae]

I mentioned this in the tags of one of my reblogs but my personal theory is that NH sent the hate message to themselves. The convenient timing of all this apparent hate showing up in the face of legitimate grievances reminds me of the whole "dreeming-r*yalty accused me of being a scammer" situation, in which everyone who wasn't outright kissing the asshole's boots suspecting himself as the culprit.

I can't fathom anyone going out of their way to be that awful or graphic over racism of all issues. And the fact that they had it at the ready tells me that they had this before, and was ready to use it at the slightest criticism, given the disparity between the topic addressed in the message and the topic they're currently under fire for.

So my theory goes as follows:

- NH was worried they'd be called out for something. Maybe someone threatened to make a post about them being racist.

-NH makes the burner account "horoscope whores", and opens up a new message to themselves via mobile (this is something that is very possible as I use this myself as a way to archive posts for later viewing)

- racism drama doesn't end up happening so they drop it

- alterhuman drama begins.

- maybe they couldn't find a way to delete their "damning evidence of harassment" in order to send a message more on-topic with current drama, or maybe they correctly figured that their brain-dead stans wouldn't be able to tell the difference, but they use this "evidence" anyway, once the drama reached a fever pitch.

- all for the sake of drawing attention away from their wrongdoings, a la dreeming-r*yalty. and its clearly working, when it comes to NH's stans, because none of them have an ounce of critical thinking skills and don't want to see their fave for the problematic bully that they are.

Thoughts?

I don’t think they sent it to themselves, because best guess, they have some 50k followers. When you’re that popular, breathing wrong in anyone’s direction brings on the hate. I’m actually just surprised that they were willing to blame anyone at all for it, because people see you make one wrong move and those who wouldn’t otherwise have a reason to bitch suddenly have an opening.

It’s the sort of “You took the last scone from someone on accident, they reported you, and the next thing you know the guy who hates your haircut and takes it personally is telling the administration you’re the sole reason for all the shoplifting they’ve been dealing with”. We were a scapegoat, someone took advantage of both parties to start a nice little war and then sat back with the popcorn.

The fact that they didn’t see this coming, despite running their blog for years, is the part that surprises me. I have probably 750 followers and I know that, because I’m not an idiot. I answered politely and I didn’t bitch until they called me worse than a fascist. They could’ve just asked, hey what the fuck, and I would’ve taken their side. The fact that they didn’t proves they never wanted to be in good faith with someone who had only ever shown them that he was acting in good faith himself.

I also don’t want to say they did this specifically to discredit valid accusations, but I can see where that’s coming from and can absolutely see how someone would draw that conclusion. I try not to assume malice, especially since they pointed out that me saying “Glad they’re getting their comeuppance” really looks like I was glad for the hate (and yeah, my bad), when in reality I was talking about the accusations coming to light and the community noticing now that it was blatant that they’re a terrible person. It sure doesn’t look that way, and if I want to claim the grace of assuming people know my intentions when things aren’t worded right, I ought to give them the same.

So it was probably just bad timing, but I don’t blame anyone for being wary. Recognizing patterns like this can save someone’s life, and maybe it’s a false flag this time, but next time it might not be. So we learn from this. All we can do.

[atlas-of-a-human-soul]

frENEMIES, pt. 10 {Quarterback AU}

Summary: Grayson has some explaining to do.

Warnings: angst

Series Masterlist

"Ever saw something that instantly shattered your heart to bits you could never truly pick up and glue back together because some pieces would always be missing?

Seeing something that makes your entire body feel alien to you, as if it triggers an out of body experience?

So, instead of looking away from the wreckage, you can't seem to move. Breathing becomes a heavy task, swallowing spit feels like it could choke you, yet your eyes are glued to what keeps tearing you apart.

You were right that night. I was being unfair to you and I was throwing around accusations because I needed you to be the bad guy in order to justify my need to save my heart from the pain you could inflict upon me. You were right and the next day I wanted to tell you that in person. I hoped we would finally find common ground and not have to worry about heartbreak anymore.

And I went looking for you, high and low, asking anyone who could possibly know where I'd find you and I did. I found you, quarterback. I found you with a seductive smirk painted on your rosy lips that quickly connected to someone else's. I found you pushing her against a wall and making her moan, the sound that echoed throughout the empty hall and my head for months to come. And I found you there as you two disappeared in some storage room where my imagination painted the picture of what happened next and let me tell you, there is nothing worse than allowing your imagination to paint a picture of anything.

Was she worth it?

Was she better? Experienced?

Was I so unimportant that you didn't even wait for twenty four hours after we had a falling out?

Did I mean that little?

Was I so easy to forget?"

Grayson could see it in her eyes, the same look he imagined on her face when she saw him with that cheerleader, a girl that was just a way to numb his pain. He didn't know any better then, but had he known there was still hope for something with Y/N, that would never even cross his mind.

And she had that pain, that horrified, unmistakable ache screaming at him and she wasn't even speaking.

"It isn't what you think, I promise you." And he reached for her hand only to have her retract it fast, too fast for his liking. Moments ago she was kissing him like her life depended on it and now she couldn't stomach the thought of his touch.

"Then tell me what it is because all I see is a very gorgeous, very pregnant woman calling me your whore." The disgust laced in every word she spat at him like poison had caught his heart in a web he had to untangle or he'd surely die.

"This is Lacy and she is my publicist. Not my girl and not my baby!" Grayson exclaims, looking over his shoulder for his publicist who chuckled awkwardly.

"So she isn't a crazy fan-girl forcing a kiss on you?" Lacy's uncertainty had caused her to take a step back, looking at Y/N again before the poster above her head caught her attention.

"Are you...are you THE Y/N Y/L/N? The author of frENEMIES because I'm obsessed with that book!"

Folding her arms across her chest, Y/N's eyes fall to the ground as she tries to center herself. Grayson's looming presence casts a shadow over her and she's doing her best to remember Grayson isn't the same person he once was and neither is she. She's trying to give him the benefit of the doubt and accept his explanation because she quite honestly felt like it was a flashback from college, like some sort of a twisted form of heartbreak PTSD.

"Wait...is...Is Grayson the mysterious quarterback?!" Lacy's excited, high pitched squeals breaks Y/N's focus and she finds her eyes taped to his warm, worried gaze.

Fear is evident in his eyes as if he can already see her leave without talking things through like she used to do.

Granted, when he gave her a concussion in the past by 'accidentally' tackling her during that one semester she thought it would be fun to take PE in college, she didn't really want to listen to his excuses at all. Though he did take her to the hospital even when she insisted she was fine, Grayson knew she wasn't because she kept calling him Raisin. He stayed with her that day. And that night. She wasn't capable of admitting it back then, but she quite liked knowing he was right beside her bed. It felt safer somehow, which is quite ridiculous considering she always ended being anything but around him.

But then again, she also remembers the time he asked her to dance when she showed up to a campus sanctioned event. She told herself she'd be perfectly fine with sitting in the corner all alone without anyone to dance with, that she could handle seeing everyone having a partner or at least a friend, but she wasn't.

Somehow, he knew that and surprisingly enough, she agreed to dance with him and what was even more shocking is that the only slow song of the night played right at the time she took his hand. She'd later find out he paid the DJ to play a slow song "The night we met" and at the time, she didn't really understand why.

They argued half the time because he said she's too short and his neck and back would hurt from hunching to talk to her and she called his hips stiff and dancing weird, but then again, he called her pretty too and she laid her head on his chest.

There were so many times when he was both her worst nightmare and sweetest dream and unfortunately for her, that didn't seem to have changed now either.

"You're quiet. It scares me when you're quiet." Grayson licks his lips, blinking a few times before glancing at his shoes once. He always did that when he was nervous.

Swallowing thickly, she sighed before nodding. "I just needed a moment. Lacy made quite an entrance." Glancing at the woman who really, really wanted to know if Grayson was the quarterback from the book. Lacy could already see the press release, the public would love them.

"Sorry. I get protective over him. He's had a fair share of stalkers." She said it so casually as if it was no big deal and yet it made Y/N frown deeply, enough to warrant Grayson's hand on her shoulder.

"No, yeah. I get it." Smiling awkwardly, Y/N glances at Grayson when he rests his hand upon her shoulder, his touch warm as ever and soothing for her soul.

"This story will break the internet." Lacy begins her excited chatter, but one look at Grayson and she finally understood - they don't want this to be public knowledge and she is imposing on their time together. Y/N especially didn't want his name to overshadow the content of the book that had changed her life and inspired a career as a writer.

"I'll go and organize your weekend. It was lovely to meet you. And uh...have fun...protected fun." Winking at them, she finally left the two alone and it made it that much easier to breathe again. At least for Y/N.

"Thanks for not storming off when she showed up." Grayson stood in front of her, his other hand bravely cupping her face and while he wanted to pick up where they left off, Y/N looked like she could cry.

"I didn't storm off because I could hardly feel my legs, Grayson. This could have easily been true. Every time I get anywhere near you, ten girls pop up from nowhere and I can't compete with that." Pulling his hands away, she finally stands properly, no longer leaning on the desk that saved her from falling on her ass more than once that day.

"I won't compete with that." If seeing him once had shaken her so badly, she was scared of what would happen if she kept seeing him.

Would her past issues resurface? He already made her feel like an insecure college girl who hated herself because she never felt good enough for him, or any other guy. She hated feeling weak, disposable and she felt just that.

"THERE. IS. NO. COMPETITION." Running a hand through his hair, he shakes his head. "Can't you see that? There was never any competition. Three years passed and I supposedly got all I wanted and nothing mattered because I'd still lay awake at night and wonder where you are and who you're with. I've stopped using girls for one night stands because nothing could erase the emptiness in my chest...the same emptiness that disappeared when I walked into this book shop." And yet he found himself weak, vulnerable, fragile even. Unlike Y/N, he liked that because he had someone he could say he loves enough to offer that part of his damaged soul.

"Actions not words, Grayson. It's...It's an amazing feeling to hear you say all that, especially when I've waited so long to hear it, but I no longer give value to words, only actions. And you'll be here for a few days and then what? What is the point of all this if you're just gonna leave on Sunday? Gonna finally be able to say you took my V card? Because that won't be happening. And this isn't me being bitter or presumptuous, I'd actually like to spend more time with you, but you will leave eventually and I want to draw the line."

Grayson loved how bossy she is, how determined not to fall for his charms. It made him smile despite her murderous glare. It made him smile because he knew things she didn't.

"Wait. Hold up. I'm fine with that, but V card? You really haven't? Still?"

"Gonna mock me about that? I'm not like you Grayson. I look for a real connection, feelings. No one came close to that. Besides...I'm only twenty five." She lifts up her chin proudly, but he caught that little quiver of her bottom lip that came before that. And he was happy. He was happy she did wait and not because he had some fantasy about being her first, but because he wanted her to have someone who loves her when she's ready.

Secretly, he did hope it would be him.

"No, sneaky little princess. I won't mock you. But then again, I do wonder if you can really keep that line intact." Licking his lips his smirk quickly appears and she can hardly keep a smile at bay. Her lips twitch, giving him an inkling of her inner struggle, making him braver, leaning in once again.

But she wasn't ready to kiss him again. Feeling his lips messes with her mind enough to make her rational decision making skills disappear and she couldn't afford that again.

"Look, I'll grab a jacket and we can go somewhere more private and talk. Okay?" Biting her lower lip, she raised her eyebrows in expectation, watching his smile with the slightest disbelief upon his lips and she nearly gasps when he kisses the top of her nose so quickly she hardly had a moment to react.

Stepping away, he gives her room to do as she suggested, thinking it would be better if they're in private because things he has on his mind are more acceptable where no one could see them. He didn't care if anyone heard them.

Letting out a frustrated huff, he thought how he's been asking for a God given sign on what to do next in his life and he finally found his answer - whatever entailed having her in his life was the right path for him to take.

A vibration makes him look down at the desk she was leaned against, noticing her phone as it lit up with a photo...a photo of a man. A man he could recognize.

"I'm ready." She smiled, about to pick up her phone but even she knew it would be impossible to hide the truth from Grayson now that he'd seen the photo.

"Wh-why is Mike calling you?" His voice broke and Y/N could tell it would be an argument before it even started.

"Because...we are...sort of dating."

Tags: @livexdolan​​​ @dreadingdaisies​​​ @strangerliaa​​​ @mendesficsxbombay​​​ @beinscorpio​​​ @peacedolantwins​​​ @dolandolll​​​ @idekxdolan​

PART 11

[porkchop-ao3]

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 58)

Full Circle

Sorry for the wait! Hope you like this one. Warning for abuse mention, and lots of conflict. 

Tagging @emily-strange ❤

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

-

I only got a few feet from the saloon when I spotted him; Micah, riding into Van Horn. I spurred Rayna forwards quicker, waving a hand and calling out to grab his attention. He noticed me and stopped dead, leaving me to close the gap, I stopped beside him. The look on his face was one of pure shock, clearly not expecting to bump into me.

"Hey, you better turn around," I said, jerking my chin back the way he came. 

He took a moment to respond, "and why's that, missy?" 

"'Cause there's Pinkertons in that bar," I answered, going to leave immediately. Micah reached out and grabbed my arm though, and I stopped Rayna suddenly before he could drag me off the moving horse. Rayna whinnied and I turned to scowl at Micah, wrenching my arm out of his grip. 

"And what're you doing drinking with the Pinkertons?" He asked. 

"I wasn't. I got out of there as quick as I could. And if you've got any sense, you'll do the same."

"How do I know you ain't working with them? You know we've been wondering who our rat is–"

"We ain't got a goddamn rat. Why'd you think they're out here in Van Horn, asking locals about us? They don't know where we are. Now come on," I hissed, carrying on. 

Micah turned and followed me, heading northwards out of Van Horn. He matched my pace, trotting alongside me for some ungodly reason. I could sense him looking at me, and when I met his gaze his eyes were narrowed, suspicious, analytical.

"It don't look too good, you know. You and Morgan disappear for the night, then I find you in Van Horn, knowing all about what the Pinkertons are doing," he growled at me, and a swell of nausea made my mouth water and my palms sweat. He was right. It absolutely didn't look good. "I wonder what Dutch will say." 

My eyes flashed wide and I stammered out my response. "Well, Dutch'll likely put a bullet or two in me if you go spinning stories like that."

"They ain't stories, though. The way I see it, I've got plenty reason to be suspicious."

"Well, I can't exactly deny that. I see how it looks, Micah, but I have to ask; why on earth would I choose now to drop you all in it?" I questioned.

"So you and lover-boy can get out with a mere slap on the wrist," he proposed, and I couldn't help but scoff.

"The hard-on the law's got for Arthur? Ain't no way in hell they'd strike a deal with him," I argued. "Anyway, they don't know who I am, I sat and had a full blown conversation with one of 'em and he had no idea."

"I don't know if we can trust you," he snarled at me with narrowed eyes.

"You think if I was working for the Pinkertons I'd've warned you about 'em? Hell no, I would've just sent you in and gone to watch when they hanged you, you moron," I snapped, rolling my eyes.

"Mm, I'm surprised you ain't tried killing me yourself– oh wait, you did," he rumbled dramatically and I grimaced in distaste.

"My God, Micah, could you exaggerate any more?" I sighed, quickly losing my patience. "You yanked my hair, you could've been going to strike me, or put a knife in me, I reacted on impulse."

"Sure you did," he drawled, baring his teeth at me. 

"My brother used to yank my hair like that right before he slammed his knee into my stomach, or my face, depending on how much of a mess he wanted to make. Ain't felt that in a long time, I weren't in control of my actions!" I hissed, raising my voice and glaring at him as though I could murder him with my gaze. Micah recoiled, blinking at me. "I need you to give me a goddamn break!"

"A break? Ain't that all you've had this past week?" He retorted.

"Cause healing after being set on fire's such a break. God, just leave me the hell alone, I ain't interested in speaking to you."

"That ain't nice. 'Specially since we're headed the same way, back to camp."

"I ain't going back to camp."

"Then where you going?"

"Back to Brandywine Drop, where I'm staying the night, lord knows I ain't ready to go back to that goddamn camp where everyone's walking 'round on eggshells. I did you a damn favour back there," I jabbed a thumb over my shoulder, "do me one and let me be."

"Oh but I did you a favour when I stopped Mr. Schwartz from having his way with you, remember that? I could'a sold you to him and you would've been in that house as his personal whore to this day, but I didn't, out of the kindness of my heart," he told me theatrically, bracing a hand against his chest and cocking his head at me. "I should've taken the damn deal, would've if I knew you'd be doing the same shit now just with a different feller."

"What do you mean?" I demanded and he tittered almost drunkenly.

"You're Morgan's whore, now. He's got you to take away from camp for a little hanky-panky whenever he needs to blow off steam. God knows that's all you're good for, 'specially since you stopped bringing money in."

I did no more than scowl at him, unable to think of something to say despite scrambling for words in my mind.

"Just a pity that I didn't get there first. I could've had you, hell, anyone could, I know it. He just had a head start," Micah continued, boiling my blood. It was so hard to rise above it.

"You keep telling yourself that, if it'll make you feel better believing I'd ever consider letting you near me."

"God, you're full of yourself!" He spat.

"Rather that than have such a low opinion of myself as someone must have to lie down for a man like you. When was the last time you had a woman, huh? Maybe that's why you're so insufferable to be around, maybe if you blew off steam as often as Arthur does," I was running my mouth now, letting the words flow as they pleased. I didn't care. I stopped Rayna in the middle of the trail, and Baylock stopped just a second after, putting Micah and I right next to each other, though I happened to be facing him since I was sitting side-saddle.

Micah chuckled darkly. "You're more fun when you're pissed off," the sharp pronunciation of his 'p' sent spit flying at my face and I flinched. 

"Dodging the question, I see," I quirked a brow, challenging him, almost.

"You seem mighty interested to know," he mocked, mirroring my tilted brow.

"Don't even think about suggesting what I think you're suggesting."

"You asked about it," he pointed out, shrugging his shoulders.

"You are insufferable," I growled through clenched teeth.

"Aw, it's okay, I know you're just scared," he cooed, leaning forwards. I leaned back.

"Scared of what, exactly?" I questioned.

There was a pause. An uncomfortable one where he was staring right into my eyes and I couldn't look away from the cold blue of his.

"The fire," he whispered. I blinked, thought about my burns, but it was as if he made the mental leap too and was quick to clarify. "The one that burns between you and I every time we bicker like this."

I screwed my face up. "Excuse me?"

"There's a lot of heady tension between you and I, the kind that feels like we'll either kill each other or fuck each other when it all comes to a head," he smirked with his teeth flashing, the gap that Arthur had made appearing almost cavernous as I eyed it.

"I know which one I'd put money on," I muttered.

"Me too," he hummed, and added in a voice that was low and teasing; "princess…"

"You gotta quit calling me that, I swear to God," I growled. He giggled like a child and I narrowed my eyes. 

"Like I said, you're more fun when you're pissed off."

"God, I hate you," I sighed, and went to ride again when he caught my arm, almost dragging me off my horse a second time. "Micah!"

"The more you say that the more I like you," he practically snarled, despite his words, his voice wasn't kind. "Oh, just think of the fun we'd have."

His grip slid down to my hand, gripping it tight. It was so weird, and I flashed my startled gaze up to his eyes. He tugged his reins to force Baylock closer and when he let go of them, his hand moved to my face, gripping my chin tight enough to hurt. I flinched a little but I was otherwise frozen in place as he twisted my face towards him, and wearing a somewhat smug smile, he leaned towards me and I panicked, sucking in a sharp breath a second before his lips met mine. 

I hated him. I had just said that to his face. We'd just bickered and argued and insulted each other and not ten minutes ago he was accusing me of ratting the whole gang out to the Pinkertons and suddenly he was kissing me. Something about the situation did not sink in immediately and I sat frozen on my horse, eyes sprung wide, just staring, as his lips worked against mine; harshly, almost could be described as an assault. His moustache scratched at my upper lip and I caught the scent of sweat and cigarettes and it was so different to Arthur's own smell that it pulled me out of my stupor and urged my muscles to move. 

I wrenched myself away, but swung the momentum his way so that he was the one shoved backwards, grappling for his reins before he fell off of Baylock; the horse whinnied and side stepped anxiously at the ruckus. I stared at Micah, my mouth hanging open wordlessly, so astounded by his actions that my mind was just blank.

"What the hell is wrong with you?" I breathed, not having it in me to yell. He righted himself on his horse, turned his head just slightly my way to side-eye me. 

"What, you didn't like that?" He drawled with a shit-eating smirk.

"What is it with you kissing me?" I shook my head.

"I'm just having fun with ya', sweet thing," he laughed.

"It ain't no fun! I just don't understand you," I shook my head, hearing my own voice waver. A lump formed in my throat and my eyes prickled with moisture, and I wasn't completely sure why until the guilt caught up with me. 

I thought of Arthur. I thought of Micah's lips being against mine for far longer than they should've been, and how I hadn't shoved him away instantly. How could I have frozen like that and let it go on for longer than necessary? Arthur… this would hurt him. I knew it.

"Fuck you, Micah," I spat, then spurred Rayna forwards, riding quickly away, hoping that Micah didn't see the tears escape down my cheeks.

-

I set up the tent and the campfire on the other side of the train tracks at Brandywine Drop, clearer ground than before so I'd have a better chance at spotting any wildlife that came sniffing. I was still reeling from Micah's kiss, my upper lip feeling as though it was burning, like I'd taken a sip of coffee too soon, but it wasn't the pleasant warm tingle that Arthur's kisses always left with me. It was the wiry scratch of a moustache and the bruising insistence of unwanted lips. My hands still shook and I cried all the way back to our camp, trying to be quiet and subtle in case I passed anyone but unable to stop the sobs that rocked me every now and then when I thought of Arthur. My Arthur, the thing I loved more than anything on the Earth, and now I'd hurt him without him even realising. 

I couldn't stop crying! Even as I sat by the fire and tried to pull myself together, the pent up emotion from the past months flooded me and I let loose; it was so, so difficult to contain once the final straw broke the camel's back. I realised I'd suppressed more than I thought and despite feeling pathetic, I let myself take the moment. I hoped by letting it all out, I could have some sort of control over myself once Arthur returned, and I had to tell him.

Because I really did have to. This wasn't something I could attempt to hide from Arthur, even if I wanted to. Arthur and I had built a relationship on communication and honesty, I wasn't about to go against that. I knew that finding out about this would upset him, anger him, but not half as much as it would if he found out at a later date from Micah.

I spent the remainder of the daylight gathering berries and herbs and carrots from the surrounding area, snacking on a crunchy raw carrot while I waited for Arthur to return from his work. I calmed down eventually, drying my tears and pulling myself together, my emotion draining and leaving me feeling lethargic and placid. I understood that it would change once Arthur returned, and I still felt guilt churn up my gut whenever I thought about what had happened. 

I was sitting with my sketchbook, doodling Rayna as a distraction, when I heard hoof beats and looked up to find Arthur. But it struck me as I saw a figure emerge that there was more than one set of hoof beats, and immediately the hairs raised on the back of my neck and I dropped my sketchbook, pushing myself to my feet. The light from the fire touched the figure, illuminating it properly. It was a man, but not my Arthur, and he had his repeater trained right on me. A gasp pulled through my throat, and my eyes flashed to a second man. I recognised him immediately; considering I'd been speaking to him in the saloon only a matter of hours ago. 

"Agent Wilson of the Pinkerton Detective agency," he re-introduced himself as he swung down off the dappled grey horse he was riding. Strolling towards me, he retrieved something from his belt; a pair of metal cuffs. "Though we have been acquainted already, haven't we, Miss?"

"Yes sir, I believe we have," I said as confidently as I could, trying to keep the frown from my face. 

"We know who you are, Ma'am. Now, I'm gonna have to ask you to come with me," he told me firmly, and my hand twitched towards my gun belt, but the other agent's gun was still pointing at me. "Come on, now. Don't do anything stupid. Put your hands where I can see 'em. Go on, up."

I hesitated, looking between the two men. I weighed my chances. If I pulled my gun, I likely wouldn't have time to land a shot before the other agent did. He was aimed and ready. I was cornered, and soon made even more helpless by the additional three men appearing behind me, and two at my side, all on foot and each with another gun pointed at me. This was it, I had no way out.

I raised my hands up in the air, clenching my jaw as agent Wilson stepped towards me.

"Turn around," he ordered. With a breath I did as I was told, and soon my arms were being pulled behind my back, locked in place by the cuffs. I let my eyes fall closed and felt everything drain from me, going numb. I flinched as the agent crouched and lifted the bottom of my skirt to reveal my ankles, binding those with metal too. 

"What have I done? I've done nothing wrong," I argued, though my words were tired.

"We know you're with Van Der Linde. Nice little show you put on at the bar, but uh… some new information has since come to light," he told me. My mind instead turned to the possible ways that they could've found out. I'd said nothing, hadn't I? Did one of them recognise me? Why hadn't they done something about it while I was there?

"Where'd this information come from? What goddamn proof do you have? I'm nobody," I hissed, and Wilson just laughed, tugging me towards the horses. I groaned as he suddenly grabbed me and lifted me up, tossing me roughly onto the back of the other agent's horse. The thump against my stomach as I landed threatened to empty it. 

"Don't you worry about that," he answered as we started riding, going at a leisurely trot. My mind reeled. How on earth could they know? And how did they know where to find me?

I went cold as realisation hit me. There was only one person who knew the Pinkertons were in Van Horn. There was only one person who knew that I'd spoken to them. 

Micah.

"It was that goddamn bastard, weren't it?" I growled through bared teeth, rage flaring up.

I heard Wilson chuckling. "Calm down, Miss."

"You tell me, someone told you about me, didn't they? You've got a snitch. Goddammit tell me!" I yelled, struggling on the back of the horse, pulling at the cuffs on my wrists and ankles, crying out when it cut into my burnt skin.

"Stop moving or you'll fall off, and I ain't stopping to pick you up again every two damn minutes," the agent above me snapped over his shoulder.

"Micah! Micah Bell, he's working for you, ain't he?" I screamed. 

"Smart lady, this one," Wilson laughed and I panted, my eyes wide, breathless as I stared at the moving ground. I was stunned, my mind blank apart from the knowledge that this was real. Micah was the rat, working with the Pinkertons and screwing over every single one of us. 

It explained why he was in Van Horn. He must've been going to speak with them, but I interfered. And when I'd pissed him off a final time with that kiss, he'd told them exactly who I was… and where I was. I sagged on the horse, watching my hair swing in front of my face, watching the rocks and dirt kick up from the horse's hooves. The fight left me, and I wondered if I'd been better off going for my gun back there, taking my chances… It was useless. I almost certainly would've taken a bullet. 

But now they were carrying me off to God knows where. God knows why. They already had Micah, he was probably telling them everything they needed to know, they probably knew where the gang was camping, what they were planning, everything. So what would I be able to give them that Micah couldn't? I wasn't a high profile outlaw, I didn't have thousands of dollars worth of bounty money on me. In the grand scheme of things, I really was nobody.

Unless they were picking us off one by one. Well, it would make sense, they had been extremely unsuccessful in trying to ambush us as a whole group, it seemed it didn't matter how many men they threw at us, they weren't a match for the most capable guns in the Van Der Linde gang all joined together. The only way they could succeed would be by thinning the numbers, trying to get to the most capable men, strike while they were alone.

I swung my head up, eyes wide as I frantically looked around. There were just two men with me, Wilson and the unnamed agent whose horse I was on. The other five men… they were still back at my camp. Waiting. I felt sick, my mouth watering and my skin puckering up with goosebumps. 

I wasn't nobody. I was extremely useful. My ties to Dutch's best man, my relationship with him that Micah had almost certainly informed the Pinkertons of, it put me slap bang in the middle of the first phase of this new plan. I could've laughed – if it wasn't such a dark situation – at the way things had come full circle for me. 

I was bait.

[chelsfic]

The Worst Damsel Part 1 - The Witcher Fanfic - Geralt of Rivia x OFC

A/N: This can be read by itself as the first part of a new series or as a sequel series to No Charge. In this follow up I feel like I’ve found my voice again. It was very fun to write! If you’d like to be tagged please let me know.

Summary: The Witcher has taken on a traveling companion: the damsel in distress he rescued from near certain death and/or torture. The only problem is she has a lot more attitude than your typical damsel.

Warnings for mentions sex work and Geralt being an arse

“Aren’t damsels in distress meant to be wilting, gentle flowers, overcome with gratitude for their rescuers?” Geralt bit the words out, baring his teeth in an annoyed sneer.

Bethany sneered right back at him, “Aren’t rescuers meant to be chivalrous and noble, respectful and admiring of the female sex?!!”

Geralt lunged forward, grabbing the fabric at the back of her dress, miming as if he pinched her bottom. Bethany snarled and wiggled in his grasp which only served to increase his amusement.

“Why, my lady,” he growled into her ear, stubble rasping against her cheek. “I do admire you greatly, especially the round parts. And as for respect,” he drew back and gestured to the red nail scratches across his cheek, “I’ve the greatest respect for your aim. But your dramatics will not change the situation one bit. This is the only place in town that’ll have us.”

Bethany and Geralt, the unlikeliest traveling companions to come through town in many years, were standing in the darkened corner of a taproom. A taproom which also served as the lounge for the town’s popular and raucous brothel, The Scarlet Kiss. 

Bethany gritted her teeth. 

“You didn’t even check anywhere else!” she accused, jabbing her finger into his chest. The affect was somewhat dampened when she hurt her finger on his heavy chest armor and flinched back, “Ouch!”

Geralt’s smirk softened to a gentle smile and he took her hand in his, cradling it. 

“I’ve been through here before, Beth. Many times. I know where I’m welcome and where I’m not.”

Seeing his softened aspect Bethany let out a long breath and asked somewhat primly, “And you’re sure your desire to renew old acquaintances in this establishment has nothing to do with it?”

Geralt laughed and bowed his head over her hand to place a soft kiss on her fingertip. Bethany shivered at the touch of his lips and held her breath awaiting his reply. She knew, just *knew*, that the Witcher could read her face like an open book. He must know she’d been developing annoying, horrid, unmistakable *feelings* for him despite her best efforts. And despite her logical mind telling her that Geralt was a worldly man who certainly had utilized the services of a brothel in the past...she still couldn’t bear the thought of him holding another woman in his arms. He caught her gaze as he lifted his head and she saw him read it all on her face as plain as day. 

And still he would be a *prick* about it.

“Well, my lady, I did not say I would not *enjoy* our stay here, did I?”

“Oh!” she shouted in frustration and stomped one dainty foot on the tip of his boot. The Witcher yelped and hopped around in exaggerated misery. It helped a bit.

“Fine,” she relented. “But I want a bar for the door of my room.”

***

After securing two rooms they took their dinner at a long communal table toward the back of the lounge. They sat on benches across from one another and Geralt quickly drew attention in the form of flirtatious glances and passing touches from the brothel’s workers. Bethany rolled her eyes and feigned a remarkable interest in her stew while watching from beneath her lowered lashes.

 She wasn’t a snob. She didn’t feel superior to these women or to anyone despite being brought up as the daughter of a rich merchant. She supposed being thrown out and accused of demonic possession by said merchant might have had something to do with her humbleness. But it hurt her to see the Witcher so cavalier, so unfeeling toward her. She knew she had no claim on him and no reason to begrudge him anything. Indeed, he’d taken her under his wing after rescuing her from the oubliette in Lord Raskan’s estate. She was obliged to leave the village where she’d grown up, the only home she’d ever known, all because she’d spurned the advances of a marginally powerful lord. She had nothing of her own and no place to seek refuge. Geralt was the only person in an age who had shown her any kindness. To an outsider her obstinance, her outrage at him over the brothel might seem ungrateful. She wasn’t ungrateful. He’d won her gratitude and her heart. The problem was he didn’t seem to want them. No, it amused him to have her as a kind of pet. That was all.

She sighed into her stew as a long-legged redhead perched on the Witcher’s lap and leaned close to whisper in his ear, effectively presenting him with her cleavage. Geralt’s hands clutched at the lady beneath the table and she gave a squeal of delight. Bethany thought she might gag.

“Geralt,” she proclaimed in clipped tones. “I’m tired, will you show me to my room?”

He slowly drew back from the redhead who was sporting a vicious pout and glaring at Bethany out of his eyesight. 

“Of course, my lady. Just a moment,” he said before dipping down to lav his tongue along the whore’s chest. “Wait a moment for me, Pru, will you?”

The whore nodded and scooted back onto the bench with a victorious glare at Bethany. Bethany pretended not to notice and stood up to wait by the foot of the stairs. Geralt rose and his massive frame seemed to dwarf the rest of the room. Despite herself, Bethany felt a catch in her throat at the sight of him. He was magnificent. And he was meant to be hers, damn it! Wasn’t that how it worked on all the stories?

As they climbed the stairs and entered the less crowded corridor of bedchambers above she watched the lines of his posture loosen. When it was like this, just the two of them alone together, he was softer, less abrasive and showy than he was downstairs. She wished she could bottle this version of him and sneak a whiff of it whenever he was being particularly annoying or careless. 

He stopped in front of a door at the end of the hall, “This one’s yours. Mine’s just next door so if you need anything just call for me and I’ll hear you.”

A sudden, loud cry of ecstasy came from one of the rooms up the hall. 

“Well,” he said with a smirk, “You may have to speak up.”

He lingered for a moment, his hands hovering in midair as if he meant to embrace her but wasn’t decided yet. For once she read the expression on his face: he was stricken at the separation, however slight it might be. They’d been sharing a bedroll on the road for the last several nights before making it into town and he still felt responsible for her safety. She could hardly be in more danger here than in the wilderness. And yet.

The Witcher gave a characteristic grunt and lowered his hands to his sides. 

“Goodnight, Beth,” he whispered.

“Goodnight,” she said opening the door to her room and stepping inside. “Geralt.”

A/N: Please let me know if you’d like to be tagged.

[ibijau]

Part 2 of Lan Xichen refusing to listen when Nie Huaisang tries to tell him about Jin Guangyao’s crimes, this time post canon. As a quick warning... don’t go in there expecting a reconciliation ahah :D

In all his years of acquaintance with the Nie sect, this is the first time that Lan Xichen is made to wait at the gate, and the insult smarts. This is how a merchant or the servant of a noble family begging for help might be treated, not the leader of one of the Great Sect, and certainly not an old friend. Then again, it has been many years since Lan Xichen last came to the Unclean Realm alone. Perhaps he would have received such a welcome all along, after he and Nie Huaisang...

They never broke up, not exactly, not in such a manner that Lan Xichen could pinpoint an exact date to mark the end of their intimacy. But Nie Huaisang became more closed off in the months after his brother's death, more reluctant to tolerate any sort of affection, and Lan Xichen, tired of being denied again and again, stopped visiting alone. He only came alongside Jin Guangyao, in whose company Nie Huaisang was always a little less cold. For a while, Lan Xichen even wondered if his former lover's affection hadn't shifted toward a new target.

He wishes now that it had been something so easy. The truth, he fears, might be more unpleasant yet.

After nearly a shichen of waiting at the gate, Lan Xichen is brought inside by a disciple. Not Qinghe Nie's first disciple, but one of lesser importance who takes him to a sparse room and offers him subpar tea. He is then informed that the sect leader is currently busy, but will make time for him as soon as possible.

In a way, Lan Xichen finds this already answers the questions he has come to ask. Just a few weeks ago, Nie Huaisang would never have dared to be so rude to anyone, least of all one of Nie Mingjue's sworn brothers. He used to always drop everything for Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao, throwing himself at them with heavy tears... but then again, he was always the one begging them to come as well, whereas Lan Xichen is now here uninvited.

Another shichen passes, and then some. The tea Lan Xichen was offered is worse cold than warm, but he still finishes it as darkness creeps on him. Night, outside, is coming close, and Lan Xichen regrets not booking a room at some Qinghe inn. He has never had to before, and quite foolishly he hoped this wouldn't have changed. A mistake he will not repeat, if he ever visits again.

At long last the door opens, revealing Nie Huaisang who looks...

It would be only polite for Lan Xichen to rise up and bow to his host, or salute him in some manner. If he doesn't it isn't in protest of the long wait, but only because he can hardly recognise Nie Huaisang. The man in front of him might as well be a stranger. It might just be that it has been so long since Lan Xichen has had cause to truly look at the man he once loved. It might also be that for the first time in nearly a decade, Nie Huaisang isn't playing a role. Either way, Nie Huaisang seems taller than Lan Xichen thinks he ought to be, even accounting for the fact that one of them is standing and the other sitting. That might be because he is standing so straight, his shoulders squared rather than hunched. He looks, as he has for this past decade, a little too thin, but rather than making him frail and delicate, Lan Xichen finds the other man's features now bring to mind a carefully sharpened blade. Nie Huaisang's eyes are certainly as cool as steel, his narrow smile threatening in a way his sabre never managed to be.

“Er-ge, I'm surprised you've come here,” Nie Huaisang calmly states, looking down at Lan Xichen as he puts down a candle on a chest near the door. “I suppose I should ask the reason of your visit.”

“I think you know it already,” Lan Xichen replies without thinking, too startled by this stranger bearing a face he once adored to be polite.

Nie Huaisang smirks. “Do I? I don't think I do. Please do tell me, Er-ge. I am but a stupid man, I need things stated plainly.”

Not so long ago, Lan Xichen might have unkindly agreed.

“I'll ask this before all else: the other night, did Jin Guangyao really move?”

Nie Huaisang's smirk curls a little higher. “I've said already that I can't be sure, haven't I? Maybe he moved, maybe he didn't... I was tired, and I was wounded, and I was so terribly scared,” he explains in a mocking tone. “Weeks after the accusation was first made, I just had it confirmed that one of my very dear friend had murdered my da-ge, and you expect me to have been clear minded enough to remember every inconsequential detail?”

“You already knew he had killed da-ge,” Lan Xichen retorts.

Nie Huaisang's mouth slowly opens in a artful 'Oh' of surprise too deliberate to be anything but artifice, while his hand sets on his heart as if wounded by the accusation. He looks right out of a picture, beautiful and elegant and insincere.

“Er-ge, I'm not sure I quite understand what you're saying.”

Lan Xichen frowns. He had not expected this to be easy, of course, but he hadn't prepared himself for such coldness either. In his mind, Nie Huaisang ought to have been shouting at this point. But then, he was thinking of Nie Huaisang as he lives in his memory, young and spoiled, rather than the man he became while Lan Xichen wasn't paying attention.

“I am saying that I have given due consideration to what Wei Wuxian said last month in that temple,” Lan Xichen says. “I believe that he might have been right.”

Even an actor as talented as Nie Huaisang can break character. For a brief instant, he appears to struggle to contain a smile, though that problem is solved when he quickly opens a fan with a sharp yet graceful gesture. Lan Xichen is left breathless when he recognises the fan. It is one he bought for Nie Huaisang, when they were young and not yet crossing the line between friends and lovers. When they finally did, they wrote together a few lines of poetry on that fan, because Nie Huaisang, so sweet at that time, wanted to do like the couples in those stories he so enjoyed reading, and Lan Xichen of course couldn't have done anything but indulge him in this caprice.

It cannot be an accident for this particular fan to have been chosen as Nie Huaisang's shield.

“Er-ge... no, sorry, Zewu-Jun, that is a serious accusation you're throwing at me,” Nie Huaisang saying, almost sounding hurt. Almost. “So, I must ask... do you have any proof? You can't say this without some serious proof.”

Something in Nie Huaisang's tone is a little odd, as if it matters to him whether Lan Xichen has anything concrete to show.

“No more than you probably did when you started all this, Huaisang.”

“But if I had done that, I would have had proof” Nie Huaisang retorts, his eyes burning from behind his fan. “Plenty of it. If I were to have gone on the path of revenge, it might have been because Baxia had become restless in the weeks after her master's death, and started causing problems in the sabre's hall,” he explains, dropping the fan to reveal a feverish expression. “So of course I would have checked my brother's tomb, and found it empty. That's when I might have become suspicious of foul play, and turned to you for help. I wonder, would you have listened to me, or would you have rushed to defend someone you clearly valued more than me?”

Lan Xichen's eyebrows rise high in surprise. He knows for a fact that Nie Huaisang never mentioned his brother's corpse being missing, he certainly would remember that.

“If this is your excuse for never letting me know the truth...”

The fan comes up again. “Er-ge, this is purely hypothetical of course,” Nie Huaisang says pleasantly, as if they were discussing the weather. “I suppose if those things had happened, I wouldn't even have had a chance to make a case against Jin Guangyao before you'd make it clear on whose side you were. You've always been so quick to defend him, haven't you? Even when da-ge was alive... they were both your friends, but you only ever seemed to side with one of them, didn't you?”

It is an unfair statement. Lan Xichen used to defend Jin Guangyao in front of Nie Mingjue, yes, but he made no less efforts to mend that relationship on both sides. Many times he tried to explain to Jin Guangyao how their sworn brother's personality worked, how Nie Mingjue meant no harm by speaking the way he did, how he was truly trying to help by offering chance after chance for Jin Guangyao to prove his good faith, especially in that business with Xue Yang, and how Nie Mingjue's education and personal experience made it hard for him to understand that Jin Guangshan wouldn't be swayed by the demands of a bastard son he half openly despised.

Lan Xichen had done all that he could to be a bridge between two men whose affection was so disturbed by deeply different worldviews. Many things had escaped his attention at that time, but he had never been so foolish as to think every problem in their friendship came from Nie Mingjue alone.

Just because Nie Huaisang had borne witness to only one side of his efforts didn't mean the other side never existed.

“Someone had to defend him,” Lan Xichen coldly points out. “I realise now that some of his enemies were right to hate him, but how could I not dismiss them when their first impulse was always to attack him for his birth?”

“But I didn't!” Nie Huaisang explodes, closing his fan to furiously point it at Lan Xichen. His hand trembles with rage, and there's not art to his expression now, only raw emotion of unexpected intensity. “I didn't come to you calling him a son of a whore!” He cries out. “I didn't call him a bastard, or a servant unworthy of his title! All I said was that I suspected murder, and instantly you defended Jin Guangyao, before throwing it to my face that maybe it was my fault if da-ge had been so unbalanced!”

Nie Huaisang waves his fan at Lan Xichen, heavy tears staining his face.

“Do you know how terrified I was to share this with you? You'd been on Guangyao's side so often, you'd been the reason he'd had access to da-ge even in his unstable state! Everything was telling me that you could have been complicit in da-ge's death, that you and Guangyao could have been working together! But I loved you!” Nie Huaisang shouts, his voice breaking on the words. “I loved you, you were the only thing I had left and I loved you, certain you loved me as well, so I trusted you and tried to come to you with my discoveries, and for what?”

Laughing hysterically, Nie Huaisang reopens his fan to hide his tears.

“You don't even remember that day, do you?” he croaks. “Everything changed for me that night, and it wasn't even worth remembering for you.”

Lan Xichen stares down at the table in front of him, desperately trying to recall the conversation that left such an impact on Nie Huaisang. It must have been before they drifted apart, he guesses. To his shame, he truly cannot remember.

He tells himself that he too was grieving, that Nie Huaisang doesn't remember well, that he was perhaps less clear in his accusation than he now thinks he was. Lan Xichen easily finds many excuses for not remembering, but he knows them for what they are: excuses. The truth, ugly as it might be, is simply that he paid little attention to what Nie Huaisang had to say at that time. His grief, raw and exposed, had been uncomfortable to witness, and Lan Xichen had only held on to the good parts of his lover while waiting for the bad ones to go away on their own.

“So Wei Wuxian guessed right, then,” Lan Xichen whispers, unwilling to dwell on his past failings at the moment. “You did all this...”

“Did I?” Nie Huaisang asks, regaining control of himself, his expression turning distant again in spite of the lingering hoarseness in his voice. “Everything I said was hypothetical of course. Who knows what I did or didn't do? After so long, who knows what could have been prevented if you'd only trusted me half as much as I might have trusted you? But I will say this...”

He lowers his fan, revealing a sharp smile, more like a beast baring its teeth than anything.

“Er-ge, supposing I did any of the things Wei Wuxian accused me of the other day, then you would bear as much fault in my supposed crimes as you do in Jin Guangyao's,” Nie Huaisang says, almost sweetly. “The mighty Zewu-Jun, so pure and good, so untouched by dirt and blood, having enabled so much pain and chaos just because it's easier to look away when things are unpleasant.”

Lan Xichen doesn't answer. It is an unfair accusation, he tells himself. Jin Guangyao's actions were never under his control, and neither were Nie Huaisang.

What happened wasn't his fault, and he refuses to react to Nie Huaisang's very obvious taunting. It is clear now that the other man will not give him a straight answer regarding anything that has happened. Perhaps it was foolish to ever hope that he would, considering what Wei Wuxian said he might have done.

“It's getting late, Zewu-Jun,” Nie Huaisang remarks, glancing out the window as if he only now realises how dark it has become around them. The candle he'd brought with him offers little light. “You should get going. I hope you'll understand why I don't offer to let you stay the night.”

“I wouldn't accept even if you offered,” Lan Xichen replies as he stands up. “I suppose we'll meet again some other time, Nie zongzhu.”

“Only if I have no other choice, Zewu-Jun,” Nie Huaisang says. “I'll call for someone to take you back to the gate. I've already wasted enough time on you.”

With how often he has been here as a guest, Lan Xichen doesn't need a guide to find his way inside the Unclean Realm, not even in the dark. He keeps that remark to himself, unwilling to deal with Nie Huaisang longer than necessary.

Soon enough he is outside the gates of the Unclean Realm, free to breathe again, and starts walking into the night, toward Qinghe. Lan Xichen knows he could fly, but walking gives him a better chance to think and consider what he has just learned, and to analyse this conversation with Nie Huaisang.

It is the first time in many years that he gives this much thought to his former lover's words and actions, he realises, and something like guilt curls coldly into his chest. Perhaps this really could have been avoided, if he had paid more attention to the changes in Nie Huaisang's personality... but in those years after the Sunshot Campaign he'd seen too much grief, accepted too well that it manifested in odd ways, that someone people would wallow in it and let it become the core of what they are. Nie Huaisang had seemed only another example of this. Having always been so expressive in his joys, it felt unsurprising that he would fall as eagerly into his despair.

Lan Xichen, busy with his own trouble, with a sect to run, with his brother's punishment only then lifted, cannot be expected to have dedicated all his energy and time analysing the changes in a lover who kept pushing him away.

Can he?

He also cannot be blamed for the crimes of others, Lan Xichen eventually decides. All he did was consider the information at hand, and trust people based on their actions. Anyone else would have done the same, his actions were measured and reasonable, and though he was wrong in his judgement, everything he did was in good faith.

What happened wasn't his fault.

Was it?