#and I’ve just been given permission to go as crazy fucked up as I want because of this knowledge

[illmoraineakoi]

Just did some research into how insects fuck.

I should not have done that.

I should not have done that.

I should not have done that.

I am having Ideas that I would very much like to be not having.

[chatterbox-73]

Kinktober 2024.

Day 2 - Wax Play.

Dabi/Toya Todoroki x fem!Reader

This story is a smut story for Kinktober, I’ll be writing more characters x reader one shots for Kinktober and if you want to see a character please let me know...

You must be 18 years or older to read this...

🔞⚠️NO MINORS ALLOWED⚠️🔞

A/n I got a little off topic, there’s still wax play, it just isn’t the force in this fic… anyways, in this fic Dabi’s quite abusive… so reader’s discretion advised.

Summary: Dabi tries a new way of play with you, however when you show signs of not liking it he doesn’t care. Dabi wants to set you ablaze and leave nothing behind, and your too blind with love… no infatuation to see the mental scars he’s leaving you with.

Word count: 770

CW: NSFW and adult content, dub-con/non-con, domestic ab*se, wax play, Jacob’s ladder piercing, burning, bondage, yandere Dabi, swearing, mention of d**th and m*rder and Stockholm syndrome.

You’d never been interested in BDSM or any kind of crazy, wacky sex, yet here you were lying on your stomach with your hands tied to your bedpost, you boyfriend trusted into from behind as his drips hot wax onto your back and ass. Not that you really had a choice in what was happening to you right now.

“Dabi, it’s hot” you whine and try to wiggle your hands out of the rough tightly tied rope, feeling the molten wax drip on the roundness of your ass before it run down to the small of your back, pooling with the rest of the wax.

When you both start, it felt like heaven, like warm rain. Dabi’s heated hands massaged the wax into your skin, all while he slowly fucked you, you had even been given permission to cum, to which you took full advantage of and released twice on his thickness, though it seemed Dabi was starting to let go as his once gentle, slow and sensual thrust became rough, quick and frantic, his piercing catching on you even so often, causing pained grunts to leave his chest and squeaks of discomfort to pass your lips, that Dabi’s only concern was with himself, or rather him cumming.

“oh no… it’s hot?” Dabi faked ignorance and concern, however you fell for it every time, “yes it’s hurting me” you cried and wriggle more. You suddenly felt a large amount of extremely hot wax poured on you back, you screamed in pain and tried to move away from Dabi. “Where are you going?!” Dabi yelled like a maniac and pulled you back by your waist, putting a strain on your wrist and shoulders, while his hands burnt your skin the moment they touch you. “Oh yeah, this is really doing it for me” Dabi groaned as his grip on you got tighter and hotter, you could feel his jacob’s ladder piercings dragging against your entrance and walls, the cool medal contrasted his hot throbbing girth nicely. If Dabi was just fucking to like normal you’d be cumming already, but he’s not, instead he has been dripping hot wax on your body for the past hour and you feel like your body is about to give out.

(Dabi starts being even more of a really gross douche bag from here on)

You really couldn’t take it anymore, it was all too much “Dabi stop! I’ve had enough” you sobbed in pain, however Dabi just gripped you hair and leaned into your ear, “shut the fuck up! Your whining and bitching is turning me off” he spits and pushes you face into the pillow, soon after you felt his load pumping into you. “You know, if your cunt wasn’t so tight, I would’ve killed you by now” Dabi pulled out of you and slipped up his pants, he then moved to undo the rope. Once your hands were free, you wrapped your arms around his neck and hugged him tightly, “did you enjoy it? I hope you did” you kissed his seared cheek. “Get the fuck off me skank” Dabi grabbed a hand full of your hair and ripped your body away from him, before shoving you to the ground. You sat on the ground and looked up at him with tears in your eyes, “don’t you love me?” You sniffed and the patchwork man knelt down in front of you, Dabi grabbed your face. “No” Dabi smirked.

True be told Dabi did love you, he just wanted you watch you crumble, he wanted to set you alight and dance around the ashes, he wanted to give you rose just to watch them wilt right before your eyes, he wanted to love you so rough your body would break. Dabi wanted to use you up so no one else can have you, he wouldn’t let anyone else have you, he wants to hurt you and piece you back together, he wanted you to never trust anyone else ever again.

You sobbed and grabbed Dabi’s shoulders, “please, I want your love” you moved in close to his, “oh don’t cry, your so ugly when you cry” Dabi chuckled and cupped your cheeks, he admired his work, the way your eyes watered and your lip quivered. Dabi knew he’d done well, you were already so dependent on him and soon you’d be completely broken, just a emotionless doll, a toy just for him.

Dabi would indulge you tonight, and stick you back together… “I lied princess, I do love you… more then life itself” because tomorrow he’s he’d break you all over again.

Kinktober Masterlist

Day 1 - Yasuhiro Hagakure : Debt.

Day 3 - Gojo Satoru: Silk paradise

[deamazed]

GONE GIRL RP PROMPT. from the film.

when i think of my wife, i always think of her head.

the primal questions of a marriage: what are you thinking? how are you feeling?

what have we done to each other?

pour me a bourbon, would you?

what's up, jitters?

it's a bad day.

i'm so crazy, stupid happy!

whose beer am i drinking?

what's your type?

i prefer men who are funny, not 'funny'.

that's code for 'i hate strong women'.

what type are you?

so tell me. who are you?

you know i have to kiss you now.

i would be a fool to let you walk through a sugar storm unkissed.

go home, fuck her brains out, then smack her with your penis: some wood for you, bitch!

you are way too into that cat.

we understand there are concerns about your wife/husband/partner?

i'm not someone who hits the panic button but — it's weird, right?

you mind if we look around?

it's our anniversary.

i remember these books.

now you can say you came. and in 10 minutes, we'll leave.

perfect. time for a quick tour of all my failings.

i love your parents, but they can be assholes.

people want to hear from you.

i thought that'd be embarrassing.

i love having strangers pick at my scabs.

i am here in a strictly journalistic capacity.

you challenge me.

and — fun fact for our readers — you have a world class vagina.

my colleagues inform me that as yet, you are not married. isn't it time we fixed that?

he's just playing with his phone. playing, like... tetris.

if this girl doesn't show up... this could get out of hand.

let's stay on our toes.

given the scene in the house and given our spike in violent crime of late, we're going to take this very, very seriously.

sorry. i felt like i was in a law and order episode for a second. bum-BUM.

is she kinda... standoffish?... ivy league?

i have zero reception.

sir, don't take that tone with me.

stupid, dumb bitch.

he's always been a misogynist asshole.

everyone told us — and told us, and told us — marriage is hard work.

abandon all hope, ye who enter.

technically, we're supposed to fuck at the next stop.

we've never fucked in a bookstore.

i dragged you into the ladies' room on our second date.

books, sex, bourbon. life is good.

sometimes i want to punch us in the face, we're so cute.

i don't need a lawyer.

everyone knows "complicated" is code for bitch.

just because i don't love her, doesn't mean i don't care about her. i'm really scared.

you want to look like you've been up all night.

that's a weird thing to say.

when you're upset, you bottle it up. you can seem... angry... like —

great. i'll try to balance on the exact edge of your emotional razor.

i knew you shouldn't have moved back here.

we care about her. we love her, and we want her back.

we filed a restraining order.

it'll help us track her movements before she disappeared - where she went, who she might've seen...

maybe i'll teach you a thing or two.

i think i've done a pretty good job.

let's swear we will never be like them.

we have each other — everything else is background noise.

this is where you say 'everything else is background noise'.

i come by once a week, make sure the place hasn't burnt down.

picture me: i'm a girl who is very bad. i need to be punished, and by punished, i mean had.

open the door, and look alive.

want to test your marriage for weak spots? add one recession. subtract two jobs.

i felt like i needed to shoot something.

right, i forgot. you can give your parents $879,000 without asking me, but god forbid i buy legend of zelda without your permission.

that's the basic tenet of a prenup, right?

why are you throwing that in my face again?

i don't know how to not have a job.

now, i'm beholden to you.

suddenly, i knew everything was about to get worse.

oh look, he's being a good guy so we can all see him be a good guy.

you really don't like him.

you have to keep up your strength.

i'm asking you nicely - please delete that photo.

you can't share that with anyone.

it looked like you were having fun.

this place literally smells like faeces.

i'm going to go benadryl myself to sleep.

i feel like i could disappear.

i've been so worried about you.

you gotta pick up when i call you — where the hell have you been?!

can you at least say you love me?

i love you. but, sweetheart, we have to be real careful right now.

you told me i needed to have my own life.

i need you. now. touch me.

did you leave a pair of red panties in my office? lacy?

i'll have to check my red-panty inventory.

you told me you were going to get a divorce.

never say that out loud again.

i don't want to fight. i just want to be with you.

he uses me for sex when he wants. otherwise, i don't exist.

last night, i went from desperate to pathetic.

do our code: no bullshit.

a child is not a hobby.

we could have had this fight four hours ago.

you're really going to walk out now?! you're such a coward!

someone should burn this place.

you fucking asshole. you liar. you fucking lied to my fucking face.

you've been lying to me for over a year.

god, it's so fucking small. you're a liar and a cheat.

i thought writers hated cliches.

wah, boohoo, i got laid off. guess i'll fuck a 20-year-old.

i can't figure out what the fuck they mean.

are they supertwat's?

we're dealing with a 20-year-old who isn't sure where she leaves her undies.

free spirit is code for stupid.

just because the guy isn't weeping, doesn't mean he's not hurting.

the hallmark of a sociopath is lack of empathy.

are you trying to tell me that this photo is remotely in the realm of acceptable behaviour?

a picture is worth a thousand words. ever heard that phrase?

i'm so sick of being picked apart by women.

for valentine's day, i thought i'd buy a gun.

i'm being paranoid. crazy. i'd just sleep better with a gun.

if someone were staging a crime scene, why mop up blood?

a pool of blood and no body suggests homicide.

why have you kept this stuff? it's like a little box of hate.

you know how hard it is to make a murder case without a body? it's incredibly difficult. so i want one last thing... i want a body.

sometimes, the way he looks at me? this man of mine may kill me.

i'm so much happier now that i'm dead.

he took my pride and my dignity and my hope and my money.

he took and took from me until i no longer existed. that's murder. let the punishment fit the crime.

to fake a convincing murder, you have to have discipline.

america loves pregnant women. as if it's so hard to spread your legs.

you know what is hard? faking a pregnancy.

you need to bleed. you need to clean.

men always use 'cool girl' as the defining compliment, don't they?

go ahead! cum on me! i don't mind, i'm cool girl.

i waited years for the pendulum to swing the other way — for men to read jane austen and make out while we leer.

i will admit: for someone who likes to win, it's tempting to be the girl every guy wants.

for him, i was willing to try.

i wax-stripped my pussy raw and blew him regularly.

i forged the man of my dreams.

he actually expected me to love him unconditionally.

he doesn't get to fucking win.

grown-ups work for things. grown-ups pay. grown-ups suffer consequences.

fucking crazy bitch.

she's framing me for her murder.

you are married to a psychopath.

your problem is just beginning.

does missouri have the death penalty?

as long as you don't own a python and blast death metal at 4am, we're gonna be best friends.

that's the most disgusting thing i've ever heard.

are you laughing me out of your building?

this is why i have a $100,000 retainer — because i win unwinnable cases.

so far, this is a he-said-she-said.

i haven't had a date in almost a decade because if a girl googles me? bye-bye.

if i could make up a girl, this would be the fucking girl.

she framed you with the ties you wouldn't wear.

can you imagine being almost 30 years old and never having had anything go wrong for you?

i'm serious. i will not say a word against that girl.

i can't imagine what she's got in store for you.

that's life, baby.

the whole thing just feels... easy. like finding an envelope marked CLUE.

ever heard that phrase - the simplest answer is often correct?

whatever the hell they found, we have to assume it's very bad.

he's nice because he wants to fuck you.

i'm not sad. i'm angry.

i was going to kill myself. can you believe that?

why should i die? i'm not the asshole.

it's a ticking time bomb. you gotta throw yourself on it.

a guy admitting he's a giant asshole? people love that stuff.

looks like you've done a good job.

where's the money, sweetheart?

you've hiding. i don't know why, and i don't care.

i don't think you've ever really been hit.

next place, be more careful, okay? lot of people out there worse than us.

every time you look smug or annoyed or tense, i'm going to hit you with a jellybean.

why are you so good to me?

why is it that when i need someone to save me, i always think of you?

oh my god. you little slut.

she's the girl with the giant cum-on-me tits.

come. you're staring at ghosts.

seriously, i can't believe how fucking good you were.

you are so good to me. and i am so exhausted.

you'll be very safe. i won't let you get away again.

you scared me. don't do that. i need to feel safe.

you were never under my thumb.

you are the best person i have ever known.

they disliked me, they liked me, they hated me, and now they love me.

whenever you said something stupid, i thought 'maybe he's just stupid'. i was wrong.

none of this is mine - none of this was put here by me.

i need some time to think.

that's the last thing you need.

i'm not going to force myself on you.

i just want you to be you again.

my defence is the truth.

want to play a little true or false?

you thought quinoa was a fish?

you fucking bitch.

it's an insane story.

don't blame yourself.

you must've bled quite a bit there.

how'd she get the box cutter if she was always tied up?

stop pretending.

i just said what you wanted to hear.

that's how well you know me! you know me in your marrow.

take off your clothes.

you're a murderer.

i'm a fighter. i fought my way back to you.

you begged for me to save your life. and i obliged.

the media will destroy you.

give it the night. sleep on it.

was there ever a baby?

if two people love each other and can't make it work, that's the real tragedy.

kiss my cheek. now.

you can't live in the same house as that spider.

mess with it, they'll come looking for blood.

we had the national spotlight on us, and we stained the rug.

i swear to god, you two are the most fucked-up people i've ever known. and i specialise in fucked up.

i'm the definition of 'at risk'.

remember: don't turn your back.

i'd never hurt you. i do need you to participate though. that's fair, right?

tell the truth and shame the devil.

fuck it. let everyone take sides.

i love tests.

we are toxic. we complete each other in the sickest possible way.

you think you could ever be with a nice, normal woman?

i complete you. i'm the only one who can.

stay with me and i will make you happy. you know i can. i've killed for you.

you're breaking my heart.

what have we done to each other? what will we do?

[littleboba]

❝ domestic ❞

note: i came back and made some minor edits, nothing crazy ♡ part two is up!

♡ ── wc: 581

♡ ── pairing: nanami kento x fem!reader

♡ ── desc: sex but make it light and humorous + breeding kink undertones + biting (like once)

Your nosy aunts should’ve given you a heads up.

Every single one of them who came to the wedding or pressed you for your honeymoon venue, should’ve at least had the decency to let you in on the big secret behind life as a married person. This is not at all what you had in mind.

Apparently, the realities of sex, marriage, and "domestic bliss" were really just your husband listing off the day’s agenda while simultaneously dick-deep in your guts.

How you’ve managed to get to this point is a mystery beyond you, but���all things considered, you wouldn’t mind doing this a little while longer—now that rattling off grocery list items in between kisses has steadily become the norm.

Still, some kind of warning would’ve been nice.

“Work going okay?” You pant against Nanami’s bare collarbone.

He’s a little sticky with sweat and fluids (saliva mostly), his own and maybe some of yours too. Along his neck are blotches of red and purple, trophies that show he belongs to you just as much as you do him.

“Mmm, it’s so-so. I’ve had to work—shit—overtime twice this week…not fond of it.”

A genuine laugh bubbles in the back of your throat but it comes out staunched and choked as your muscles tighten, orgasm coiling in your gut. You’re getting so close to the edge. You probably won't last much longer

“I see.” You press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “…Gojo bothering you again?”

“Please—don’t bring him up while I’m trying to come.”

This time you do manage a laugh. It’s airy and breathless, and music to Nanami’s ears. His hips knock into yours, fervent as you return his efforts with a squeeze.

You are the one he adores more than anything as both his lover and companion. There’s no doubt in his mind that he wants to have a child with you. The thought alone is enough to send him over the edge. He groans into your mouth, intent on fucking a baby into you. “Love you—love you so much.”

“Love you more…” You kiss him impatiently, sucking his bottom lip. Your fingers trace the taut muscles of his back, and glide across the smooth plains and ridges of his skin.

“Ken, harder.” You mewl.

He does just as he’s told; he’s prepared to paint your walls white.

Your cunt trembles around him. And soon your orgasm rockets through you, sending a shock of pleasure racing down your spine and prickling your toes. Nanami moans into your neck as he finally comes.

At some point his teeth had found the junction between your shoulder blade and neck. You sport a crescent-shaped mark as proof.

There’s silence as you catch your breath. Nanami wipes you down with the bedsheet, and silently urges you to at least pee first before succumbing to sleep.

“Should've held back a little.” You tease with droopy eyes.

Your husband raises a brow in response. The little smile on his lips tells you he’s definitely in high spirits, perhaps even a little smug. Who wouldn’t be? You have the luxury of knowing your husband is always keen on giving you his best in bed. So, of course, you’re feeling sated too.

After bit of cleanup, you slump back into the mattress with a book in hand. You aren’t going to read it, but maybe Nanami will indulge you so you can fall asleep to the deep timber of his voice.

“Hm, I…think we’re out of milk.” You say, curling against his side.

He nods, plucking the book from your hands. “I’ll pick some up then.”

© all works written by littleboba, belong to littleboba aside from characters used. please do not replicate, repost, or use without permission.

[hmm-self-indulgence]

Michael Shelley x Gn!Reader

Read as a statement. Italics are Jon, and regular is You! Gender Neutral, congrats you are married, have graduated uni, and live in England. Statement given around mag 140. I’m going with the descriptions given on Fandom Wiki for Michael, and the classic interpretation of Helen (since she has no canon description).

Warnings! Intense language, traumatic experiences, major character loss, some almost sexual themes but no smut. Pretty much just PG-13 except for language and some monsterfucking elements. READER HAS SEMI BISEXUAL TENDENCIES (you get both distortions for the price of one!) Also, what's a timeline, never heard of her? So just general timeline fucking up for the sake of some fluff and angst. Mentions of religion and praying (kinda worshiping the spiral a la Manuela)! Drug mentions. Also, violence against Elias, but who cares! Some artistic liberties taken when it comes to a lot of things. I’ve never been to the UK so some stuff might be wrong. Technically unintentional spousal abuse, (gaslight gatekeep girlboss) plus technically kidnapping? Plus the reader is a bit mean to Jon. Also my friend proofread this and said it reminded her of twilight a bit so I hate that but I wanna post it anyway. I hate that I took unintentional inspiration from twilight but here we are anyway.

No one has the permission to repost this on any website. Do not use my content or claim it as your own! I do not own these characters, they are made, owned and are the property of Johnathan Sims. I am in no way profiting off of this and this is made with full respect to Rusty Quill.

Quick taglist @decora-peaches , @swordsandfools, sorry gang I'm a fool who needed the confidence to post this and its been quite a bit since I promised to post this.

Helen has decided to try to buy our friendship again, as she has brought me a statement. Where she got it from I have no idea, but I feel the need to record it. Anyway, Statement of (y/n) Shelley, regarding their life and experiences with their husband... Michael. Date written, unknown. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, The Archivist.

Statement begins.

I'd like to first say that I hate your Archive and everything you stand for. You took the man I love from me twice and I despise you all for it, but Helen asked for it and I cannot deny her anything. So here is my statement, and I hope you choke on it.

I met Michael Shelley in our first year in University. We were in a maths class together. We had finals coming up and a handful of our classmates wanted to meet up at the south library to practice together later in the day. The study session ran extremely late, and it was dark when I left the building. He must have seen my hesitance and offered to walk me back to my dorm, and I guess we hit it off.

We went out quite a lot, and he was so sweet and always listened to what I had to say. He was occasionally forgetful, but he never made me feel like I was

Michael always had this… obsession with the unnatural. He told me what happened to his friend when he was a child, and I believed him well enough. I didn't believe in ghosts or ghouls or any of that lot, but he did. Michael heard that the Magnus Institute was hiring, and before I knew it he had dropped out and started working there full time. I was surprised, but honestly I didn’t think much of it at the time because he was so happy to have that damn job.

My parents were... not thrilled with Michael. To them, he was too quiet and, as you know, working for the Magnus Institute isn't the most glorious or well paying job, and my parents were worried that he was crazy. To be honest, he wasn't all there when I was with him, he always seemed to be a world away. But that didn't matter to me. He was mine, and we loved each other.

He proposed at my graduation, and we got married a few months later. The wedding was a small thing, his parents didn't come and mine showed up begrudgingly, so it was mostly just a few friends and his two of his coworkers that showed up in the end. Michael was so damn happy to see Emma and Eric. Eric even brought his little boy with him. It was the happiest day of our lives, I don’t think I ever saw Michael smile as much as he had that day.

We had a small apartment right between our workplaces. It was a bit of a trip for both of us, but I don't think either of us minded. He went on a few trips for the institute, so when he told me he was going north with Gertrude I didn’t see anything the matter with it. I helped him pack some warm clothes, and we had dinner before he left. Nothing… Nothing seemed wrong at first. I was used to him not being able to talk when he was on his trips, but after 3 weeks of silence went by I was scared. I got the letter the next day. “The Magnus Institute regrets to inform you that Michael Shelley has passed away. Our deepest condolences, Elias Bouchard.”

I went to the institute to get answers, storming my way into Elias’s office. He didn't even have the kindness to look shocked or even the slightest bit remorseful. Didn’t say shit about it either, just that he was dead. I asked about his body, if there was anything that could be buried or just anything about what happened. He just… stared at me, just saying that Michael was dead and that the institute was sorry.

I don’t remember much about what happened next, but I remember feeling his weasley little neck in my hands as I tried to squeeze the answers out of him. Security pulled me away and when he caught his breath he told me he wouldn’t press charges, but that I had to leave and not come back. As I was escorted out of the building, I saw Gertrude and Emma staring at me with those blank eyes. I begged her to tell me anything about Michael, anything at all and that I knew she was with him on that trip. Nothing made her react at all, but I swear she flinched when I asked if she killed him. I don’t know how I got home that day.

I prayed that day. I prayed that the institute was wrong, that Michael was alive, that this was just a sick fucking joke. But it wasn't, and I had to bury an empty box alone a few days later. Work gave me a few weeks off that were spent practically catatonic in our bed. People came by, friends, my parents, but they couldn’t bring him back to me or fill the empty hole that was left in my life. It's strange, you never realize how dependent you are on a person until they suddenly leave, no warning. It’s like a crutch being kicked out from under a missing limb, but you never stop falling.

But you don’t deserve my grief, my sadness, you already know what you did. You don’t want to know about my Michael, you want to know about the Michael you created. For Helen I will indulge you. I first saw the yellow door about three months after he passed. I was grieving, and that makes us so much more foolish. I had been walking home after work and I was lost in my own head, taking turns and alleys I hadn't ever seen before. I think I was around Westminster when it happened. Some men had tried to grab my purse, and I ran.

I heard their footsteps following me as I ran through the small, dark alleys, my shoes smacked against the slippery cobblestone and I was so afraid. I was ahead of them by a bit, and I started banging on doors, begging for someone to help me, but no one answered. No lights were on in any of the homes and I felt my heart hammering in my throat threatening to escape. Then I saw it, fused into a cobblestone fence. A bright yellow door at the end of the alley, just barely opened so a sliver of light peaked through. I ran towards it, running through it before slamming the door behind me. I never heard anything from the other side of the door.

When the adrenaline died off I noticed the hallway. The walls were an obnoxious mix of beige and yellow. There were these mirrors in the hallway, kind of like the mirrors at carnivals that distort your body and make you look different. Everything hurt to look at, and the lights were so bright I was getting a migraine. The place made me feel like I was on a LSD trip. That wasn't even the strangest thing though. In my peripheral vision I kept seeing… something. It only appeared where I couldn't focus on it. I tried to go back to the door I came from, but It wouldn't budge, and I never got a clear view of what was there so I started walking. After a few minutes of the endless nauseating hallways I saw another door.

I don't know what I expected when I opened the door, maybe more weird hallways, but never in a million years did I expect it to be my own apartment on the other side. I was frozen in place, shocked and so, so afraid when I felt something grip my shoulder strongly, jerking me forward and into my bedroom before the yellow door slammed shut with a bang. And when I looked back there was no door.

I told myself I was hallucinating. That something was wrong and it was all just a bad dream. I spent the whole night convincing myself I was going mental. Lying to myself worked, and I was so close to believing it when I saw the bruise on my skin under where I was shoved. Some part of that night had to have been true, I had no fucking clue what really happened.

Looking back it was so stupid of me. So fucking stupid but I needed to know what the hell happened that night. I started looking for danger, going into darker areas later in the night. I walked around with fake jewelry that looked nice enough from far away to entice some lowlife thief. I got robbed twice, got a few scrapes and bruises but the door didn’t show up again. Kept telling myself it was grief, maybe some disorder or another that stemmed from that first night.

I don't know how it was different from that night, but maybe it knew they wouldn't have hurt me too bad, so the door left me to my own devices, or maybe I’m just insane..

I wasn't expecting a door when I saw it next. There had been a break-in near my work, and a police officer came by to ask us some questions. The officer was this real brute of a man, tall enough that he had to duck to get into the shop. I don’t remember his name, but I didn't like the look of him. Of course I answered the questions, but the officer just started getting closer and closer. I was scared and closed my eyes for just a second, and when I opened them the yellow door was to my right, where a window was supposed to be. I bolted straight into the door, I don't even know if the officer followed me. But the door opened and the nauseating hallway was there again.

When I heard the door latch I took a moment to breathe. The strange figure appeared in my peripherals again, always disappearing when I tried to focus on it. I called out to it, asking where I was and what was going on. Looking down the hallway I saw something tap the mirror, like it was poking it from inside. I moved closer until I saw the horrible hand gripping the inside of the mirror. They weren't hands, hands don't have that many bones, hands aren't that long or sharp but… there they were. I didn’t even realize I was standing in front of it until I felt that strange weight on my shoulder again. I turned around quickly but nothing was there, and turning around I almost screamed. My reflection was there, but it wasn't alone. Whatever was connected to those claws resting on my shoulders looked almost like Michael. I could feel the weight on my shoulders, but the thing with Michael’s face was only in the mirror.

Michael wasn't originally a tall man, but now he almost had to bend over to fit his entire frame in the mirror. Michael didn't have hands like that, Michael’s smile was never that large, and most importantly, Michael wasn't alive. But here stood the thing that was and wasn't my husband. But when he said hello I just broke down. I told him everything and begged him to stay by my side. He said he had left, but that which both is and isn't him has been here. He said he would stay, and I said that I loved him. I don’t think he loved me, not the… the new version of him. I don't even think he had any emotions left at the end. I think there was just enough Michael to remember me.

I knew he wasn't exactly like my Michael, but he was close enough to make me happy. I knew he was hurting people, the hallways weren’t silent, and I heard screaming occasionally. There were a lot of mirrors in his doors, and sometimes I saw faces in them, real normal faces. I wanted him back, even as he had become he was still my Michael.

His door was in our… my apartment some days. Oftentimes it wouldn't even open, but it was just a comforting presence. His door, his shenanigans, it all just became my new life. He wasn't Michael, but he was enough like him to make the grief go away. If I fooled myself enough it almost felt normal again, like when we were first married. He didn't speak much, he just came and went like a house cat. I would speak to him, or at least his door when I was particularly lonely.

There were times he acted like his old self. Some days he would go through the motions of making coffee, only to stare at it in distaste before he disappeared.

I would see him standing in our apartment, just staring at a wall or going through one of his old routines. Some nights I would wake up to see him staring at me from the foot of our bed. I even found some of his gold hair on his pillow again. We lived that way for around seven years. In that time, nothing really changed, we just inhabited the same area. It wasn't ideal, but it was better than living without him, so I didn't mind.

A few months before he disappeared, again, he came back with blood on his hands. I tried to ask what happened, but all he would say was that he “poked the eye”, and I assume that means it's your lot. He seemed so pleased with himself so I didn't ask any more questions. That's when things got bad again.

I didn't see him for a few weeks, and I was worried, not even his door was here. I was so afraid he was gone again, and I worried I was insane again. I prayed, not to God this time, no, I prayed to the hallways and the ever changing fractals. I prayed to the spiral Michael mentioned. I offered worship and my love in exchange for any part of my lover back. And this time someone answered.

There was a figure in my room again, but it wasn't Michael. It was a woman I came to know as Helen. She was around the same height as my new Michael, and her voice was just as disorienting and alluring as my husband. I had to mourn Michael twice, but Helen filled in the gaps he left very well. Helen didn't know much about me, only that she felt pulled towards me, but she was determined to learn.

Helen tried to be a person more than Michael did at the end. Michael would never stay long, but Helen would spend hours in our apartment, just sitting or watching me. I would see her doors throughout my day, always in the most impossible places. She told me once it was just to see me smile, can you believe that? Michael did the same thing, and I adore her for this kindness. She is such a kind presence, and I care for her.

It's strange, in another life I think I could love her the way I love Michael. But this is not the life we are in, and my heart belongs to Michael. You took him from me, and I will never forgive you for that, your eyes will be blind one day and you will be left with nothing, just like me.

Statement… ends. Helen, why did she give this to me. What does this mean? I asked Elias, and apparently some of this is verified. Michael did pass away at this time, and he was married to one Mx. (Y/N) Shelley. I have elected not to reach out to their family, as if this is true, then reaching out would only end poorly. I… I need to talk to Helen.

[sub-hoshi-enthusiast]

I'm still not writing for bts anymore but I just wanted to get these few requests out cause I don't wanna be a bitch and make these people wait so long for something and then have me say "sorry lol I don't wanna do it anymore 🙃" but anyways this is for @babyboytae1 so I hope you like it (even tho you requested it like eons ago and I only just now made it-)

Making BTS Cum in Their Pants

Jin

     In the moment, Jin would find this incredibly hot. The fact that you have so much power over him you can make him cum in his pants like an over excited teenager drives him nuts. His favorite thing is when you don't actually touch him, but just tease him with your words as he desperately ruts against your thigh, a pillow, or anything else you've given him permission to use. You'd be sitting on the couch trying to watch a movie when he comes up to you all hot and bothered, so you just keep staring at the screen while lightly patting your thigh and he gets the message. He'd be grinding against your thigh,whimpering and moaning into your ear and if he tried to take his pants off for some better friction you'd just look at him and say something like "Did I give you permission to do that doll?" And he just shakes his head with a high pitched whimper while speeding up the movement of his hips. From time to time you'd look over at him with a "Is that the best you can do?" or "Look at you doll, so desperate to cum you're using my leg when you could just be jerking off somewhere." Your simple words bring him to the edge faster than he thought they would so he starts begging for his release, hips stuttering as he waits for your reply. When finally told to cum his eyes roll back in his head as he cums all within the confines of his underwear. He'd sit there for a bit before he starts complaining about how he'll have to do the laundry again even though he just did it (I want Jin as my housewife ok, sue me) but he knows he'd do it again in a heartbeat if you asked him to.

Yoongi

     If it's just in his jeans or any other regular clothes he had worn for the day I don't really think he'd mind. He loves to make sure that you're enjoying yourself and if him cumming in his pants makes that happen then so be it. He'l be damned, however, if you try to make him do it in pretty clothes he's bought to dress all cute for you. If he's wearing lingerie or a pretty skirt/dress he's found at a store just for you, he's not going to let you ruin it just because you're horny. If you guys are in the foreplay section of the night and you have him grinding all up on you in a pretty pink skirt he wore with a nice white set of lingerie and you tell him to keep it on while he cums he'll just glare at you before ranting about how much it cost and how embarrassing it was for him to go get it and wasn't going to put himself through that again so you can just take what's been handed to you. You'll just giggle at him with a quiet apology as you press a kiss to his lips and carefully undress him before going on with the night you have planned. Sometimes you'll just bring it up as a joke because you have to admit his little rants are pretty darn cute since he talks with a pout on his lips.

Hoseok

     Hoseok is very loud and very sensitive so you just have to play with him out in public, what monster wouldn't? So you have definitely made him cum in his pants more times than he could count. In changing rooms, bathroom stalls, even a little ways down an alleyway close to your home when it was dark enough. He's in heaven when you push him up against a wall, looking him in the eyes as you mutter all the dirty things you wanna do to him while rubbing him through the front of his pants. Just that is enough to make him cum. The thought of someone stumbling upon you two and seeing how weak and pathetic he becomes under your touch makes him go crazy. Realistically you've taken precautions to assure that wouldn't happen but the thought is a turn on nonetheless. Long story short- make him cum in his pants in public. If you make him walk around for a bit with his release almost staining the front of his pants (don't worry, you give him a long hoodie or shirt so no one could see it unless they were looking for it) he would be willing to go another round as soon as you got home.

Namjoon

     Oh my goodness I've been waiting for this one!! Could you imagine? Making the leader of one of the most widely known groups in the world do something so dirty?? Yes please 🤤! He can look so calm and collected to everyone else but he'll be on his knees humping your leg with his pants still on in a heartbeat if you asked him to. Now that's a pretty picture. The leader of BTS pathetically humping your leg like a mutt, not caring if he ruins the clothes he has on. Even better if you force him to wear them a little while longer into the session, taunting him about what a dirty boy he is and letting him feel his release seeping through his pants and sticking to his legs. Y'know what I think I've thought about this a little too much-

Jimin

     Jimin is the kinkiest little bitch, as we all know, so he's down for anything you wanna do to him. He is really into humiliation though so if you make him cum in his pants and then sneer at him while telling him what a pathetic whore he is for getting off so quickly he will become hard as a rock again in seconds. It's not like it's something he would do unless you told him to do so, but he does still enjoy it to a certain degree. The humiliation factor? 10/10 would do it again just to hear you insult him, but he finds it a little uncomfortable after a while with his release sticking to his legs. He does prefer to stay pretty clean for the most part and doesn't like the feeling of cum on his skin. Unless of course you wanna cum on his face, then he's all for that. 

Taehyung

     Our sweet puppy Taehyung :,). I honestly don't really think he'd like it that much. It's sticky and uncomfortable and like hell he'd let you ruin his expensive ass pants. That shit's probably Gucci so I don't know about you but I couldn't replace that in a million years. He's also just a sweet boy who wants your praise so the humiliation factor isn't too appealing to him either. The only way I could really see him enjoying getting his release on his clothes is if he cums on his stomach or something and you wipe it up with his underwear and then shove it in his mouth as a makeshift gag as you fuck him. Other than that, ruining his clothes is a no go. 

Jungkook

     Our sweet baby boy is all for experimentation with you. If there is absolutely anything you'd wanna try out with his all you'd have to do is say the word. I think with this situation it would be more like J-Hope in the sense he would love for you to make a mess of him out in public. Making him walk around the rest of the day in his ruined jeans that would probably be more visible that J-Hope's cause Kookie does tend to wear tight jeans most of the time (which is honestly probably why you felt the need to pull him aside and take care of him cause damn those thighs) unless he's wearing sweatpants which still wouldn't help his case. But that's really the only time I think he'd cum in his pants. He doesn't really see the need to do it at home since there are so many other options but if you're out in public he's always down.

[hopefullystillatheatrestudent]

Who do you think made the first move, j or m? When and where?

so this ask quickly became something crazy long and i’m sorry but i’m also not because i think you guys will like this. i sure do.

ok so this was fun bc i wanted to answer this question as best as i could and i um found something that i don’t know if cockles truthers generally know???? jensen and misha got together officially(we know this bc of the anniversary post)on december 14, 2009. do you. do you want to know what episode they were filming then.

it was my bloody valentine.

do you want to know what episodes they were filming after having just gotten together????????? just for some perspective for the emotions they may or may not have been feeling at the time???

........ guys

it really puts it into perspective ummm why they were so adamant about not having stunt doubles and doing it themselves huh

oh and these bloopers mean a lot more to me now in context

these were before they were official:

i’ve always wanted to talk about misha in GENERAL during the season 5 gag reel but now contextualized it ALL MAKES SENSE. guys. he is not himself in the whole ass thing. in the sense that he has a huge. huge. huge. huge. huge. huge. huge. crush. on jensen. like it’s actually so adorable?????? his voice is so high. he makes dumb jokes just bc his mind isn’t on planet earth. he cracks so easily and is so smiley and has such giddy frenetic crush energy and i’ve never seen anything like that from him again EXCEPT sometimes during their(him and jensen’s) panels and interviews and stuff. i think people overlook just how gone misha is on jensen, tbh. and that’s why he’s so weird in this gag reel!!!!! like the ‘that was BEAUTIFUL’ in the strangest goofy voice um.......he’s just a bit overwhelmed bc this really hot guy is talking to him guys ok stay cool

he has a crush!!!!!!!!!! oh boy does he ever!!!!!!!

oh and of course jensen is no better bc he is actively flirting and TRYING to make misha break bc he enjoys his dumb smile and face so much. why am i getting emotional like i can imagine the sheer flirtatious awkward energy and their hearts racing and the butterflies and the ‘oh my god oh my god oh my god he’s so cute oh my god FUCK’ and you can constantly see it from both their ends on that gag reel like can you IMAGINE THAT WORKING ENVIRONMENT???

ok so i’m literally putting it all together. so this moment happens after they’ve wrapped up shooting season 4:

and my favorite thing about it isn’t just that they’re obvious dorks who are very obvious. it’s VICKI AND DANNEEL IN THE BACKGROUND. THEY ARE SMILING SO BIG. so that leads to the conclusion that they have to have known right??? like they might have even known before jensen and misha did. like those two were ridiculously transparent here and the vibes were DEFINITELY picked up on by their wives. i’m sure misha had no problems coming to terms with him having a crush on jensen; it’s not like that sort of thing was new to him. jensen though???? i mean, i analyzed that whole speech he gave in 2016, so his feelings were still terrifying him at this point. they must have been.

i’m purely speculating now. this is getting good. this is getting SO FUN. i think danneel and jensen HAD to have talked about it before anything happened. i wouldn’t be surprised if this exact moment right here didn’t prompt some sort of discussion. and they come to an understanding, clearly, because soon after, this happens:

this was in august 2009. and OH BOY GUYS GUESS WHAT THEY WERE FILMING AROUND THAT TIME. IT WAS THE ENDVERSE EPISODE. I SURE AM IN IT NOW HAHA

like jensen and danneel must have talked about it before then, right???? in order for jensen to feel comfortable giving a ring to a guy he clearly likes more than a friend?? so yeah. jensen has been given the ‘go ahead’ from danneel at this point and now they are in the ‘...is this really gonna happen’ phase.

so we’ve come to that phase. where the tension is at an ALL. TIME. HIGH. because jensen has permission and misha has permission. but they’re both like ‘ok but does he like me back????’ like oh my god they are children wow wow ok

so that ‘we’re gonna have a good time’ blooper???????? jensen was coming onto him HARD. all those times jensen was making faces at him to make him break?????? nothing but flirting. both of them. they are insufferable.

and then my bloody valentine happens. i don’t think they had hooked up yet. i think they were just realllyyyyyy enjoying each other’s company, like a lot, but they were too scared to do anything about it. and i think, well, know, because it’s been confirmed, that that’s when someone made a move. and i think it was jensen. and WHAT I THINK, not know, is that jensen asked him out to dinner, without saying outright that it was a date, and that it was during that dinner that they talked it out. anddddddd that’s that and they’re dating. and um here’s what the new couple did(just for context):

THEY’RE A BRAND NEW COUPLE HERE. DOES EVERYTHING NOT JUST MAKE COMPLETE SENSE NOW???

annnnnnd these too. they really were this messy right out of the gate.

[scorpiobitch95]

Summary: Sy walks in on your daily yoga practice for the first time and is captivated by what he sees.

Pairing: Captain Syverson x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: 18+ only, smut, dirty talk, rough sex, swearing, sex (oral, female receiving), sex (p in v), bodily fluids (breeding kink? maybe?), unprotected sex, spanking.

Author's Note: This work is for 18+ only, no minors tolerated. You consume content at your own risk. This is my first smut fic, it's been running rampant in my head since starting a daily yoga practice over 3 months ago... now where is Sy when I need him? Y'all, when I tell you how much I need this to happen... wow. Hope you enjoy!

Edited by myself, sorry not sorry for the errors.

*No permission is given for reposting my work, copying it, or claiming any ideas or parts as your own.

Please like, comment, and reblog if you enjoyed!

••••

Namaste

The mid-morning sun warmed the room around you, illuminating the open airy space. A place for peace and self-serving practices, you used your sunroom for many acts of self-care. Along the walls were plants and yoga gear, lined up neatly.

Daily yoga had been a part of your routine for several months, bringing you peace and mindfulness, and not to mention a great toning workout for your whole body. It was a habit, just like drinking water: your body craved it.

Today's practice was around the halfway mark when you heard Sy let himself in the front door. You’d never practiced yoga in front of him before, but his interest always piqued when you mentioned it. Your focus faltered when you noticed his presence; he was standing in the doorway, watching you quietly. Good thing you weren’t in a balancing posture.

“You’re early! Sorry, I’ve still got a bit left.” You were able to see him as you flowed from your cobra into downward dog and stretched in this posture, bending your legs and swaying your hips, working out all of your stiffness, you looked at him upside down.

“Don't be sorry, sweetheart. You take your time, Sugar. I’ve got a beautiful view.”

He grinned big and whistled quietly as you raised your leg into a three-legged dog and brought it forward smoothly into pigeon pose, which, coincidentally, you knew made your ass look terrific. You brought your mind back to your center and refocused on your breath as you leaned into this hip stretcher. With Sy in your life, keeping your hips stretched and limber was a must.

You mimicked these motions on your other side but were distracted when you heard him fidgeting. A smirk slithered on your lips.

“It’s not too late to join me. You could do with a little more flexibility, baby,” you moaned at him seductively.

“You and I both know that if I get down there with ya, it’s not yoga we’ll be doin’ Sugar.”

“Oh come on, Sy, let’s get you all warmed up before I have my dirty way with you.” Teasing him was your favorite pastime. You knew the day he saw you do yoga would lead to a fun time for you both.

A growl erupted and you took a glance at him and winked as you twisted in your pose. You knew your ass was calling his name in your blush yoga leggings; you had him mesmerized by every move you made. His eyes were glued to you, and he was ready to pounce.

You continued your flow as though nothing was out of the ordinary, seeing just how long he would last. You ended up on your back to finish your routine. Sy's need was growing by the intensity of his breaths as you moved into a bridge pose, but surprisingly, he held the remainder of his composure until you transitioned to happy baby. Feet pressed in your hands, your clothed core was exposed to his hungry gaze. You closed your eyes, feeling the deep stretch in your hips once again, focused on your inner tranquility and your meditative breathing, that is until your thoughts were interrupted by his scent.

Sy was hovering above you, his large hands placed on either side of your head on the mat, his knees pressed to the back of your thighs. Opening your eyes, you smiled and reached up to meet him as he leaned down. You kissed his soft lips, giggling.

“Well, hi there. That’s a great pose choice, babe. Tabletop is really great for your spine.”

“You better be wrapping up because you’ve teased me long enough. God damn, Sugar, I don’t think I’ve been this hard in my life.” He leaned forward and pressed his hips into your opened ones. “You make me crazy with how sexy you are, ya know it?”

“Oh yes, happy baby pose is definitely sexy. How can you possibly resist me when I’m doing this?” You couldn't help but laugh at yourself because this posture was borderline ridiculous. He kissed you again and bent his head down to trail kisses along your jawline and neck.

“Well you're makin’ me happy, baby. That pussy of yours is callin’ out to me. Come on, tell me you’re ready for me… you’re drivin’ me wild.” You tried to laugh at his eagerness but were quickly overtaken again by his lips on yours and his tongue seeking the inside of your mouth. You released your feet and wrapped your legs around his hips and your arms around his neck as you coaxed him closer to your body.

“Is there such a thing as naked yoga? Cause I think I could be down for that anytime, Sugar.”

“Why don't we do some naked yoga practice of our own right now, Captain? I think I know a few things you’ll like.” His cock ground into the warmth emanating from your center and both of you were beginning to gasp heavily. Breaking away and gasping for air, you breathed out, “Mmm, fuuuuck. Yoga does have its perks, doesn’t it?” Your hand caressed the back of his head while one brushed his cheek softly.

“My body is warmed up just for you. Do your best, Captain.”

Winking and biting your lip, you guided his mouth to your neck, where he covered your skin with a gentle-rough exfoliation of scruffy kisses and nips. His lips were warm and wet as he trailed his love bites from your neck down your collar bone to the exposed tops of your breasts. He took over and unzipped your yoga bra, ravaging your nipples with feral growls of appreciation.

Involuntarily, your back arched to beg for more. You needed him closer; you wanted to fuse yourself to his strong form the way pieces of glass meld when heated to become one whole.

Kisses peppered your bare belly, your torso squirming from the tickling of his beard on your flesh. His hands wandered down to your leggings, peeling them down with your lace thong as he continued his hot, wet kisses. Sy immediately moved his bearded mouth to your pussy, not wasting a single second before beginning to devour you.

Your legs instinctively clamped towards his head, but Sy was quicker: his warm hands wound themselves under and around your thighs, holding them open. “Do that bridge again, baby.” You put your feet down and pressed your hips up into a wide-legged low bridge, bringing your wet cunt even closer to his mouth. “Yes, just like that.” He whispered those words against your clit, making you vibrate with sheer bliss. You tightened your core muscles and focused on breathing down through your middle to intensify your pleasure.

Sy's tongue had a reputation for making quick work of you; he could always make you come in record time. He'd barely had time to pleasure you yet, but you were so turned on that all it took was for Sy to hum and whisper into your pussy, “Come for me… mmmm… Come for me, Sugar.” With a final suckle of your clit, you were convulsing on his tongue.

“Holy shit, fucking yes!” You exhaled a huge laughing breath as you lowered your body and he kissed his way back up to your breasts. “Wow... fuck, let me see you, Sy.” You reached for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head to expose his yummy chest. You looked from his chest back to his face: his blue eyes were afire and hungry with lust, latched onto yours with the intent to conquer you. You caught his mouth with yours as your hands roamed over every inch of his broad back, feeling his muscles ripple underneath his smooth skin.

“Darlin', I need ya. Now. I’m gonna need to get a piece of that sweet ass of yours that you’ve been teasin’ me with.” He flipped you over suddenly, his hands immediately on your cheeks, squeezing and massaging them with his strong hands. You heard the rustle of clothing as Sy rid himself of the remainder of his clothing. An electric shock ran through your veins when his large hand cracked against your ass, your pussy becoming more charged by the second.

You took the opportunity to move into an easier access position that would put you on full display for him: puppy pose.

Sounds so innocent, you smirked to yourself. On all fours, you brought your hands forward and brought your knees backward, dropping your head, heart, and belly down to the mat below, causing your hips and ass to raise up in the perfect position.

“Oh Sugar, you are the sweetest thing… now, let’s take care of ya, huh?” Slapping your ass again, you felt Sy’s cock burning hot on the lips of your center, only his head teasing you gently... in and out, in and out. Now he was driving you wild.

“Syyyyy, I need you to fuck me now, please.”

With your words, his throbbing cock split you open, the intensity nearly sending you into bliss again. Your hips lined up perfectly with his, and the thick veins that bulged on the underside of his cock stroked the front walls of your pussy deliciously. You sighed in relief as your hips took his increasing speed, flesh smacking flesh, and his hands were still on your ass, squeezing possessively. There would definitely be bruises tomorrow.

Every thrust was making you see stars, and you were just getting going. You wanted to take control back so you pulsed your core muscles a few times around him; it always drove him crazy. “Just like that… God, Sugar, you’re incredible... keep doin' that.”

You were approaching your edge again but knew that you wanted to try a few other things before you were totally spent. “Sy, stay inside me and stand up.” Working to move in sync, you pushed up into downward dog as he stood, you walked your hands back and widened your legs out into a wide-legged forward fold, wrapping your hands around the back of your ankles. You were still on full display, but this time with the better ability to push back and meet his thick hips, your body taking all of him. Sy was able to push harder and faster into you like this, guiding your hips along his veiny length. His cock was still constantly caressing your G-spot, bringing you close once again.

Sy rubbed his hands up and down your hips, and you could feel the soft hair of his meaty thighs tickling the backs of yours. It was one of your favorite parts of him. You adored his hairy body. So virile. So hot. It made you do stupid things.

“Sy, fuck you feel so good like this.” Knowing you were near your release, his hand snaked around to softly engage your clit, your wetness making his motions effortless. You focused on holding your balance as your second orgasm ripped through you, making your legs tremble incessantly.

Sy immediately grabbed your hips to steady you, not wanting you to fall. “You got one more in ya, baby? Give me one more,” he cooed at you sweetly.

“Mmm, yes. Stay standing.” You shakily made your way down to your mat and moved to lie on your back. Rocking back and forth on your spine, you brought your legs back behind your head and set your toes gently on the ground, your body still trembling from your first two orgasms.

“Fuck.” Sy breathed as he watched you curl your body up and present your pussy right to him. Plow pose was aptly named, you thought.

Giggling, you told him, “That’s the idea, babe. Now, let’s both finish this practice strong, yea?”

He was on you in a flash: Sy was standing above you, the view of his ripped back and peachy ass were your show while he crouched into a wide squat, grabbed your hips, and entered you again. Your legs were pressed together in this pose, creating even more delicious friction for you both.

Sy’s grunts and breathy 'Fuck, Sugar's were your cue to know how close he was. You brought your hands up to caress the backs of his thighs and calves, stabilizing yourself and keeping him close to you.

You’d never felt him go so deep before, and if you hadn’t had the consistent practice of taking all of him — and there was a lot of him — it could have hurt. He was stimulating every spot, working you up once more… you didn’t think you’d have it in you, but as Sy become more erratic and fucked you faster, his deep thrusts made your control slip, and you crashed into waves of ecstasy once more. As your orgasm overtook you, it was all you could do to keep your hips upright. Grounding your trembling body, Sy held you in position as he swelled and released into you with a final snap of his hips, expelling a deep guttural moan.

Both of you sucking in air, you couldn’t help but laugh at your current position as you tried to catch your breaths. Pulling out of you, Sy guided you down to the mat gently and laid down beside you on his back.

“Now, we lay here quietly in Shavasana and soak in the nutrients of our practice,” you guided him, a cheeky grin taking over your face.

“Oh, you’re soakin’ up those nutrients, all right. Careful to not spill a drop, Sugar.”

••••

I do not own Captain Syverson, Sandcastle, or anything related to it.

[axwalker]

Jealousy--One Shot

Book: The Royal Romance, Book 2. Engagement Tour. 

Pairing: Drake Walker x Alexis O’Brien (MC) 

WORDS: I’m using my WD golden ticket so 3,000 words. 

POV: Dual 

TRIGGER WARNINGS: SMUT!! 🍋🍋🍋 A very frustrating Drake and Alexis.  

ALL MY FICS ARE +18 !!!! 

I’m participating in the  @wackydrabbles​   prompts. This week’s prompt is “I can’t do this anymore.” 

I apologize for any grammatical errors.   

Tags in the comments ;) 

DRAKE

Standing next to my window, I admire the Roman ruins of the Palatine hills as the royal train rolls into Rome. I’ve always loved Italy, but something about this trip is getting to me. It might be the woman occupying the cabin next to mine. It might be the fact that my best friend is almost as crazy about her as I am. Almost. He can’t possibly care for her the way I do. I down the rest of my glass and pick up a simple shirt and a pair of pants for tonight’s banquet. Fuck the black tie.

Since O’Brien came back to court, I tried to avoid her as much as I could. As a result, I’d cut off a leg tonight just to lay eyes on her again. I crave her like a drug. I spent the last few days debating with myself, and each day I grow a little more desperate, my arguments growing wilder and less probable by the minute. “Maybe” is how every single thought began, each one borne of desperation. Maybe I can make Liam understand that I’m crazy about the woman he loves. Maybe he’ll understand that I’ve been lying for months. Maybe Alexis will realize that she wants a quiet life with me. It’s a weakness on my part; I just need to get through this banquet without giving into it.

Thank God there’s a bar. I’m going to need something to make this experience tolerable. I grab a whiskey and drink half of it before I even head to my table. I’m halfway there when my eyes meet Kiara’s. She’s been leaving me flirty messages since we built the barn to celebrate Liam’s engagement. She’s a beautiful and smart woman but I couldn’t be less interested. 

“Come with me,” she says, pulling at my elbow. “I saved you a seat.” 

At that very moment, Lexie walks in. She’s wearing a red silk dress that matches her lips, pours over her curves, and reveals only a hint of cleavage while allowing you to imagine what you can’t see too fucking easily. Her hair falls over her shoulders and down her back, highlighting her long neck and her gorgeous face. As always, I seem to settle on her mouth. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen her wear red lipstick before, and, for some reason, this opens an entire box of fantasies. I want to see it soiled. To kiss her so hard that neither of us can breathe. To pull back and find that mouth ajar, panting, the lipstick a red blur around the edges., I want it so badly I’m not sure how I’ll get through the goddamn night without having it. My hands sliding that silk dress over her head, learning every inch of her the way I’ve dreamed about for months. Except right now, Lexie’s eyes are fixed on the point where Kiara’s arm is linked with mine, and her expression—sad and wounded—is like a knife to my chest. I step away from Kiara, grabbing my drink and draining it. “I’m sitting with Maxwell and Olivia,” I tell her firmly. 

 “Doesn’t Lexie look gorgeous?” Max asks. My eyes move across the room again. Her red dress shimmers, sticks on her curves. `

“She looks like she needs more clothes,” I complain. 

“Olivia helped her choose that dress,” Max says with a brow arched. “It fits her like a glove.” 

“Yeah,” I reply. “That’s sort of the problem.” 

My gaze is still on her, though. Moving up from her hips to her waist to her breasts, back up to that mouth of hers. I picture it again; the lipstick smeared, her breathless under me. And then a single hand cups her hip bone, visible through the thin silk, and I’m ejected from my fantasy at high speed. My lust transforms into rage in a single breath. Fucking Signore Francesco Lombardi. When everyone finally takes their seats, I discover that she and Francesco are at the table on the other side of mine, giving me a painfully direct view of the two of them. Whenever she stands, his eyes are on her, devouring her. He paws at her when she returns, jumping to pull out her chair but managing to get his fucking hands over approximately sixty percent of her body when he does it. And if he tries to look down her dress one more time, I’m definitely taking him out. I don’t give a fuck about our diplomatic relationships with Italy. I go to the bar again and ask for another glass of Macallan. Tonight it’s either get drunk or completely lose my shit in front of hundreds of witnesses. Pretentious food and great speeches are given out that I don’t notice. She is more real to me than anything in this room or out of it, the only thing I can see. No one knows her fears like I do. No one knows how fragile she really is, how deeply sweet. How funny and smart and kind. But I know. And for all the fighting we’ve done, there aren’t two people in this room as made for each other as the two of us. My world is constructed entirely of rules about what I owe Liam –my education, my career, and so many other things. But somehow, it excludes the only thing that matters to me. Her. If it weren’t for how Liam feels about her, she’d be here with me tonight. I watch her say something to Liam, and he nods, his eyes telling her how he feels. Jealousy runs through my veins. 

 “Enough,” I say quietly as I stand. I don’t know what possesses me to follow her. I know, with every bone in my body, that I have no claim on her. But I saw that look in Liam’s eyes, the one that says he’ll do anything for her, and I found myself on my feet. She’s halfway down the hall by the time I reach her. She looks over her shoulder warily when she hears me, but she is too late. I’m already there. I grab her elbow before she has time to react and pull her into an empty office. She stiffens and pulls back, ready as always to fight. Eyes flashing and hands on her hips. Seething before I’ve even said a word. “You have no right to—” That’s when I cup her jaw and capture that mouth I’ve longed for the whole goddamn night.

ALEXIS 

 His mouth comes down on mine, demolishing my pathetic attempt to object. He seizes it thoroughly, with such certainty, as if he’s spent his entire life practicing for this precise moment. His hands raking back through my hair, his tongue finding mine as he presses against me. His mouth moves over my neck, and he groans, a noise of both despair and satisfaction. 

“You didn’t want me a week ago, but now you do?” I start to push back, but he holds me tight against him. 

“I just don’t want you stuck in a shitty ranch with a poor veterinarian when it all ends. It was never about not wanting you.” I know there are other reasons why I’m supposed to object, but they escape me. I’ve wanted this too long, his hands on my body, my skin pressed against his, and his mouth creating a trail of kisses down my neck. It’s right. I’ve known nothing in my life with such certainty as the fact that nothing in the world matters more to me. His hands move from my hips to my breasts, and then he pulls one strap of my dress down, trailing slow, open-mouthed kisses over my shoulder and collarbone, almost reverently. Nipping with his teeth and soothing it with his tongue. He pulls the dress down to my waist, unclasps my bra with a single hand. He cups my breasts, bringing his mouth to them in the same way, sharp and sweet at once and creating a need in me so intense that it borders on pain. I gasp and arch toward him, submitting entirely as my head falls backward against the wall. He pulls back just enough to see my face. His chocolate eyes are dark now as he searches mine, looking there for something he desperately needs. Permission. He wants permission. As if I’d ever tell him no. 

“Yes,” I whisper. “Please.” 

“You’re sure?” His voice is gruff with desire. And when I nod, he pushes the dress over my hips and allows it to slide to the floor. His hands follow, skating over my hips, down my thighs, and I stand before him now in nothing but panties and heels. “That fucking dress nearly killed me,�� he says, smoothing my skin as he kisses me again. He pushes against me, his shirt against my bare skin, his erection pressed hard to my stomach, a quick pulse there as if he is desperate for friction. He slides his index finger under the elastic of my panties. The moment he touches me, my whole body jolts. 

“Fuck,” he hisses, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. “You’re already soaked.” His finger slips back and forth, lightly, in torturous circles before it pushes inside me. 

“Oh God,” I whisper, my body bowing toward him. He adds a second finger, and this time his groan is louder than mine. 

“Jesus, Lex,” he growls. “You’re going to be the end of me.” 

I unclasp his belt and unzip his pants reaching down to pull him from the confines of his boxers. He is thick and heavy in my hands, hissing as my fingers wrap around him, tugging gently. 

“Stop,” he exhales after a minute. “I’m not gonna last if you do that, and there are so many things I want to do to you first.” 

He pushes my panties down and lifts me up almost simultaneously, turning to deposit me on the table behind us. He kisses me once, hard. “Lie back,” he commands. He drops to his knees, spreading my legs so I’m displayed before him. Suddenly, his fingers are joined by quick swipes of his tongue. 

“Oh my God,” I gasp. “Drake … just—”

 His mouth and tongue lick and brush and pull, creating flames that begin there and spread all the way to my toes. I try to move, but his free hand clamps down on my thigh, holding me in place. 

“I’ve dreamed about doing this every goddamn night for months, Alexis. So let me.” 

I can’t even nod in agreement because suddenly, everything inside me is building so quickly that I can’t tell where I am or where I’m going. 

“Oh,” I gasp. And then his fingers push inside me and I explode with a cry of ecstasy and surprise, arching against his mouth. He doesn’t pull back, but instead slides his hands beneath my legs and tugs me closer, buries his face to create wave after wave of something I never thought would happen in the first place. 

“Holy shit,” I breathe. He leans over to kiss me and when he does, I wrap my legs around his waist, bringing him against me so suddenly that he gasps in my mouth. 

“Lexie,” he groans. 

“Please,” I whisper. It seems impossible for anyone to be more satisfied than I am now, yet I still need the very thing Drake wants most, the thing he is so sure he shouldn’t give. He looks tortured and pulls back, but I tighten around him, pressing him against me. “Don’t even think about stopping right now.” He shifts his hips just enough that he is pressing right there, not inside me but mere seconds away from it. In a single pulse, he could be buried deep inside me. 

“Is this okay?” he asks, his voice tight. “Do we need …” 

“No,” I beg. “Just do it. I’m on the pill.”

He pushes in, barely. He’s so thick that already I’m stretched to the point of pain. 

“Oh fuck, Lexie,” he whispers. “God, that’s so good. Just give me a minute, or this is going to be over before it starts.” 

Finally, he moves once more, going slowly, a low noise deep in his chest as he finally shoves all the way in. 

“Are you okay?” he asks between clenched teeth. I nod as I adjust to the size of him, pain still outweighing the pleasure. It’s when he starts to withdraw that the pain recedes as a burst of pleasure sucks the air from my lungs. It feels too good, something so vast and all-consuming it can’t possibly end well. I never finish this way but oh my God… If it were ever going to happen, it would be now. His next thrust is faster, more certain, but he stops entirely at my sharp inhale. “Did I hurt you, baby?” he asks. 

“No.” He didn’t hurt me. He stunned me. His strokes come slow and rhythmic then, as he leans over, finding my mouth with the table bracing his weight, his arms taut. “I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” he says, holding still inside me. 

“Keep going,” I beg. “Don’t stop.” 

“Patience,” he grins. “You have no idea how hard it is not to come right now.” 

I grab his ass and push upward, ignoring his warning, thrilling at the low grunt he makes. “Alexis,” he growls, “goddammit.” 

His hips jerk back and then forward, almost involuntarily. It’s all I need. I cry out as it happens again, everything inside me bursting. He thrusts quick and hard, desperate now, and then stiffens with a single guttural noise as he pushes in one final time. He falls against me, his mouth against my neck, his breath warm on my skin. It’s closer than I’ve ever been to another person, and I would like to stay here, just like this, forever. But after a moment, I open my eyes when I realize what we’ve done. 

It’s a little like waking from a dream. What the fuck have I done? The best sex I’ve ever had and the biggest mistake I’ve ever made just occurred simultaneously. The guilt and astonishment collide with each other. It was wrong. No matter what other considerations there are, I just slept with Liam’s best friend.

I know I don’t owe Liam anything. I came to Cordonia to see if there was something between us beyond that kiss in New York, and there wasn’t. He’s engaged to Madeleine and I’m hopelessly in love with his best friend. Bu this isn’t about me. This is about Drake. 

I just became that woman. The kind of woman that would stand between two brothers. The type of woman capable of breaking a lifelong friendship in a moment of lust. 

I know that sooner or later, Drake will resent me, us, if he loses Liam. Somewhere inside, I knew that, but because I wanted him and was jealous of Kiara, I chose to ignore it. He looks up at me, and his smile fades. 

“What are you thinking?” he asks. There’s dread in his voice. His jaw hardens. “You regret it.” 

“Drake,” I sigh, nestling in his chest. “It’s not that. It was…amazing. I just need to figure this out.” 

“Figure what out?” 

I bury my face in his neck. I don’t want to be having this conversation with him. I wish there was a way he could just hold me and take me to his cabin and work this all out on my own later. But there’s not. “What happens next. I mean, it shouldn’t have happened. We both know that. Liam… “

“No,” he snaps, pulling away. “Do not bring him up. Are you really going to let the way it might look to everyone outside this room dictate whether or not it’s okay? This is about us, Lexie. No one else.” 

Except it’s not everyone outside this room. It’s him. Until a week ago, Drake was determined to push me away. He didn’t want to betray his best friend. He told me over and over again that he wasn’t that kind of man. That he would never forgive himself. 

I let my need obliterate every reasonable thought, as usual. And in doing so, I’ve let myself down and—far worse—I may have put Drake’s friendship with Liam at risk. I pull away and grab my dress and bra off the floor. 

“We have to get back out there before someone notices we’re gone.” 

He buttons his shirt. “So you want to go back and continue flirting with Liam like this didn’t just happen?” he asks.

.

It’s right then, at that precise moment, that I realize that no matter what happens, Drake and I will never be together. Liam will always be there, between us. Right now, in our post-orgasmic bliss, Drake is not thinking straight, but I know what he will be telling me tomorrow morning. Or at least how he will be feeling. Guilty. 

“I can’t do this anymore.” I take a deep breath to calm myself. “So what matters most is that we both get through the banquet like nothing happened.” 

“And then what?” He growls.

His anger doesn’t scare me. “Can we please just get through the next hour?” I ask. “Liam is out there. Olivia, Max, Kiara are out there. The most important thing either of us can do right now is to act like nothing’s wrong.” 

He fastens his belt and moves to the door, his jaw rigid. He’s doing what I asked, but I hate that he’s leaving mad. I’m doing this for him. I don’t want him to lose the only relationship in his life that matters to him. “Drake, wait—” 

 “For what?” he demands. “I just fucked you on a table, and now you’re sending me on my way. What more could you possibly need to add to that?” With those parting words, he crosses the door and walks out, leaving me heartbroken. 

[robininthelabyrinth]

This one's gonna take two asks, I'm incapable of making it more succinct. In Accurate description NHS said "I’m taking you back with me to the Nie sect when all this is over. If your parents want you back, they can come ask nicely.” Could we get that AU? And the Jiangs HAVE to ask nicely, because with the war on the horizon they can't risk alienating the Nies, but they are so bad at it? NHS's half assed plan to poach JC gets more and more solid the longer he has to watch this train wreck.(1/2)

How hard can it be to love your own flesh and blood? Even NMJ has stopped admonishing him for wanting to poach another sect's heir. What a political nightmare that would be. But JC is so relaxed with NHS's birds? And keeping up longer and longer when training with da-ge? And smiling more? And JYL said, she's never seen him so loose in the shoulders? NHS can make this work. JFM and YZY never valued JC anyway 

Part 2 of Accurate Description (necessary to read that first)

-

“Absolutely not,” was the first thing Nie Huaisang’s brother said when Nie Huaisang first raised the idea of kidnapping Jiang Cheng for his own good. “Absolutely fucking not.”

“Nie sect principle three,” Nie Huaisang said.

“Well, shit,” his brother said.

This was because Nie Huaisang’s brother is the best.

“I’ve gotten other people involved in this,” Nie Huaisang added helpfully.

“You’d better have,” his brother said. “I am not dealing with the fallout from this on my own.”

Nie Huaisang nodded happily. That was about what he’d expected.

A few moments later, his brother asked, “Why are we kidnapping him, anyway?”

-

“This is temporary,” Nie Mingjue said gruffly.

“Very temporary,” Jiang Cheng agreed, sounding stiff and awkward. “I don’t even know why I’m here.”

“You know exactly why you’re here,” Nie Huaisang objected. “I told you why!”

Jiang Cheng gave him a dirty look.

“Also I have no idea how da-ge got you here, but you’re staying,” Nie Huaisang said firmly. “For as long as it takes for your parents to show that they deserve you returning to them. You’re not getting a choice.”

Jiang Cheng’s face was turning red.

“That’s not the deal, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue interjected. “Jiang Wanyin can return home at any time he wishes.”

Nie Huaisang glared, but his brother ignored him.

“He can also stay as long as he wishes,” he said, and this time it was Jiang Cheng’s turn to stare. “If you want others to respect him, you must first pay him the respect he deserves yourself. Now, I have to go, but Jiang Wanyin – know that our home is always open to you.”

He put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it, then ruffled Nie Huaisang’s hair, and left.

Jiang Cheng looked dazed.

Nie Huaisang smirked.

“…you said something about him giving out hugs?”

“Oh yeah,” Nie Huaisang said. “Great hugs.”

-

“I can’t believe you would betray me like this,” Nie Huaisang whined. “And after all I’ve done for you!”

“A little training’s not going to kill you,” Jiang Cheng said. “Come on already.”

“My brother put you up to this, didn’t he? You sold me out for a hug.”

“I sold you out for the opportunity to go on a proper night-hunt,” Jiang Cheng said. “Also, he said he was proud of the progress I’ve been making on my cultivation and sword training since I got here. And gave me a hug.”

Nie Huaisang grumbled but conceded that his brother was especially difficult to resist when he was in full big brother mode. If he wasn’t, Nie Huaisang wouldn’t have been nearly so willing to give up the neat new sword he’d found in the Xuanwu’s cave and store it down in their saber halls until his brother and Baxia could figure out how to suppress it - he hadn’t even realized it was full of resentful energy at first, and he still thought it was especially aesthetic.

“Besides, if you don’t practice something soon, he’ll come after you himself,” Jiang Cheng said. “Wouldn’t you rather train with me?”

“No. You’re just as crazy as he is.”

Jiang Cheng looked disturbingly complimented.

“I’ll come look at your birds later,” he offered.

“You’d do that anyway,” Nie Huaisang said. “You love my birds.”

Jiang Cheng did, too. Nearly as much as he loved all the feral cats that roamed the walls of the Unclean Realm, every single one of which seemed to have immediately pegged him as a soft touch and come nosing around for treats – Nie Huaisang had never seen Jiang Cheng look so calm and peaceful as when he had a cat under his palm.

It really put into perspective how stressed he looked the rest of the time.

“Oh, all right,” he groaned, and Jiang Cheng beamed. “Just know that I hate you.”

“Same to you, Nie-gongzi,” Jiang Cheng said, completely insincere. “Same to you.”

-

“You know, I’m surprised my parents haven’t shown up to demand me back yet,” Jiang Cheng said over lunch one day. “It’s not – it’s not a problem. It’s only – I thought – Mother at least –”

“Oh, they’re demanding all right,” Nie Huaisang sniggered.

“…Nie Huaisang, what have you done,” Jiang Cheng said.

“Conspired, that’s what,” Nie Mingjue said. “I don’t know if I should thank you for discovering my brother’s sole talent, namely for scheming and conspiracies, or to blame you for it, Wanyin – but you do have very loyal friends.”

Jiang Cheng blinked.

“Well, first your parents went to Lanling,” Nie Huaisang explained. “On account of Jin Zixuan and Mianmian very obviously sneaking food around and buying all sorts of things that you would like before smuggling them – very poorly and obviously, mind you – into Jinlin Tower, and of course they were also overheard talking about something that sounded an awful lot like ‘Wanyin’; everyone assumed they were hiding you. Turns out they weren’t, of course; it was just a stray dog they’d named something with similar tones. Not their fault everyone got the wrong idea!”

Jiang Cheng’s eye twitched.

“And then, of course, they went to Gusu, on account of Lan Wangji telling everyone you were his sworn brother –”

“His what?!”

“Well, close enough. On account of how you saved his life.”

“I did not!”

“I thought I heard something about how you carried him on your back as you fled from the Xuanwu’s cave and the Wen sect’s ambushes, when he was exhausted and could not walk,” Nie Mingjue said mildly, and Jiang Cheng spluttered. “Had I heard wrongly?”

“…well, no…but...”

“Of course, you weren’t at Gusu,” Nie Huaisang continued, ignoring them both. “Though there were some heavy implications for a little while that you’d gone off with Lan-gongzi –”

“Isn’t he missing?”

Nie Mingjue coughed and looked down at his plate.

“And none of you said anything?” Jiang Cheng asked, looking between them. “At any point? Did you just, what, not talk to them?”

“I have spoken with your parents several times since they have started looking for you,” Nie Mingjue said, and his voice was suddenly hot with roiling anger. “I have concluded that Huaisang had a point regarding the necessity of their learning how to ask for your return.”

Jiang Cheng blinked.

“Your parents are jerks,” Nie Huaisang volunteered. “And you deserve better.”

“Yes, thank you,” Jiang Cheng said, a little strangled. “I think I – got that.”

“Good.”

-

“It’s just, my jiejie –”

“Supports you being here. She sent you a care package. It’s in your room.”

“…Wei Wuxian –”

“Sent a note along with the package. Says to keep up the good work.”

“How did you even get something like that?!”

“I have my ways.”

-

Nie Huaisang was staring blankly at the wall when Jiang Cheng walked in and did a double take.

“Okay,” he said to Nie Mingjue, sitting patiently nearby with a letter in his hands. “You broke him. How?”

“He just discovered that he inadvertently saved a great deal of lives,” Nie Mingjue said. “As did you, by agreeing to come here.”

“I only agreed to come here because you lied and told me it was necessary to help defend my sect,” Jiang Cheng grumbled, clearly not meaning it.

Nie Huaisang let out a high-pitched and somewhat hysterical giggle.

“It was,” Nie MIngjue said solemnly, offering him the letter. “It appears that Wen Chao was given permission to attack and crush the Jiang sect, but has been delaying in anticipation of your return on account of wanting to deal with all of you at once. The delay allowed our spies time to discover his plans, and to carry warnings to your parents. They were thus able to fortify the Lotus Pier’s defenses against invasion, and to hold it off until aid could arrive – which they wouldn’t have managed if he’d attacked at once, as he would have if you’d been there.”

Jiang Cheng stared.

“Would you like to sit down and stare at the wall?” Nie Mingjue offered kindly.

“…yes please.”

-

“How’d you convince him to let me come here, anyway?” Jiang Cheng asked Nie Huaisang as he packed up his things. He was finally heading back to the Lotus Pier, albeit only long enough to collect soldiers and come back to join what they’d started calling the Sunshot Campaign – his parents had finally figured out where he was and sent word that had, in the view of the Nie, just barely qualified as sufficient to get some leeway.

Lan Wangji was waiting in the hallway to escort him there, and he’d sworn to Nie Huaisang that he would not allow either of Jiang Cheng’s parents to say anything untoward while they were there. He’d looked very serious while he said it, too, which pleased Nie Huaisang to no end and made Jiang Cheng look more than a bit nervous.

“You’re only asking that now?” Nie Huaisang asked, amused.

Jiang Cheng shrugged. “You going to tell me or not?”

“It was easy,” he said. “I just invoked Nie sect principle three.”

“…what’s that?”

“‘A fire burns all the same’,” Nie Huaisang said. “Variously interpreted as: ‘Treat your neighbor’s harm as your own’, ‘Do not stand idly by as your neighbor bleeds’, or ‘Indifference to evil is equivalent to evil’.”

Jiang Cheng stared.

“How about ‘if you see someone who needs you, you have an obligation to act’?”

Jiang Cheng blinked. “Okay,” he said. “And?”

“And what?”

“And what else did you say? You convinced him to literally kidnap the heir of another Great Sect; I can’t believe that you accomplished that simply by saying ‘hey principle three applies here, let’s do this’.”

“Maybe I did,” Nie Huaisang sniffed.

Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes. “Fine, keep your secrets. I’ll get them out of you one day.”

“Maybe you will,” Nie Huaisang said.

-

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said. “If I wanted to keep Jiang Cheng permanently, what principle would I have to invoke for that?”

“Nineteen.”

“Nineteen?” Nie Huaisang frowned. “But, da-ge, principle nineteen is the one about marriage – oooooooh.”

[divinefireangel]

Scream Princess

SF9 Jaeyoon x F! Reader Smut.

YES I USED THIS GIF ON PURPOSE 😈

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. If this piece of fan fiction is offensive to any celebrity, fandom or culture please let me know so I can take it down. Also note that this is my version of a character or celeb, which will vary from person to person.

Author's Note: Listen. I fucking hate frat boys okay 😂. So this was easy to write cause Jae is hot and I'll do anything for him 🥰 This is the longest fic I've written so far. And I'm proud. I hope you like it anon! I have to warn you, I didn't include the choking sadly 😔 slipped my mind. But I still hope it lives up to expectations 🥺.

Copyright: Please note that this is my work and if you want to publish this on any other platform, take my permission before doing so. Taking an author's work and posting it somewhere else without any intimation is just disrespectful. I readily welcome suggestions and criticisms. That being said, Happy reading! 🤍

Warnings: 18+ ages and female readers (nothing specified with respect to appearance, etc of reader). Fuck buddies/enemies to lovers. We live for that cute shit. Rough sex. Mentions of blowjobs. Fingering (f receiving). Jae calls reader 'princess', just incase I wasn't clear. And it's smut, so your typical smut warnings. Nothing overboard don't worry. But do let me know if I need to add something more. Not proof read. Excuse the errors.

Requested: Yes! By a lovely anon 🖤

frat! boy jaeyoon and you have a love hate relationship. you love him when he chokes u and calls u princess, hate him every other second. maybe he gets so jealous at a party seeing u play pong w someone else that he takes u upstairs to make u not hate him and to let everyone else youre his.

2.8k Words ;)

It was a simple arrangement. When either of you are horny, you fuck. And the rest of the time, you pretend he doesn't exist. Ugh how you hate fratboys. But Jaeyoon is hot. You gotta give him that. And he works out a lot which is very much seen on him and the way he tosses your around when you fuck.

Sex with him is just so fulfilling. He'll give you everything you want. The passion. The speed, always fast. The way his tongue always makes you so hot. Just thinking about it makes you wet. The way he stares at you with so much hateful fire that you mirror, when he's so deep in you. The bruises he leaves when he grips you so tight you can't escape from under him. The soreness you feel after every session of sexual entanglement is just delicious. You hate it.

But what you enjoy most is how he calls you 'princess' while fucking your guts out. The rest of the time, you can't tolerate his existence. It makes you wanna roll your eyes so hard they might get stuck. You hate his playboy manners, the way he always acts like he's so cool cause he's a part of the most popular fraternity on campus. You hate how he's so cocky and acts like every girl walking would just drop their panties if he told them to. You hate that he thinks he's better than everyone. You hate him, so much.

And so here you are, at one of his frat parties, as much as you didn't want to be here. Even after insisting that you're busy and don't want to go to the party, your friends and roommates didn't buy your excuses, stating that you need to get a boyfriend or at least get laid. Oh if only they knew. Standing in the corner of the lawn, a red solo cup with disgusting beer in your hand, you stare cringingly at the mess of hot bodies grinding against each other, desperate for god knows what. Yep. You are definitely not attending another such, event.

" Hey you busy? " A voice asked.

Looking to your right, then left you notice a cute guy, who was clearly looking at you. Blinking you look at him with a blank expression. What's he playing at, you wonder.

" Oh right sorry. I'm Youngbin. We're playing Beer Pong and we're a player short and you are standing here by yourself so I thought you could join us. If you want to, of course. No pressure. " He said flaying his hands around innocently.

Well you do have nothing to do right now, might as well follow the cute guy. Who knows, he may ask you out.

" Yeah sure! I'd love to. I'm Y/N, by the way. "

" Ah. Nice to meet you. Are you a freshman? "

" Sophmore actually. "

" Oh nice. I'm a senior. A few freshmen students are still underage, gotta be careful you know. "

" Oh yeah I get it. But you should know that they are at times wilder than us. " Giggling at your words, he leads you towards the table, finally reaching.

" Oh great you found someone. I'm Zuho. " Another cute guy said. Wow you were really gonna miss out if you'd stayed in your room.

" Y/N. " You said as you shook his hand.

" Okay so it's 3 versus 3. You guys start. " Zuho said to the collective mass, starting the game. Winning a few, and losing a lot of ping-pong balls, you were finally happy. A little tipsy, but still sober enough to do a math problem, you continued to play the game, now having more players on each team. Surprisingly, you were good at the game and not so surprisingly, you started to get close to Youngbin. Slight lingering touches on your arm, your waist and the tingle that went down your body when he moved you hair so you could focus on bouncing the ball. Maybe the ball wouldn't be the only thing that would be bouncing soon.

" YO YOUNGBIN! " A booming voice called. Oh no. You knew this voice. You knew it really well. Begrudgingly you turned to look at none other than Lee Jaeyoon. Of course the fucker is here. He's at every party, trying to hook up with random girls who all seem to be interested in him.

Staring at you intently as he hugged Youngbin, You wished the ground will open up and swallow you whole. Why was he here. You were having so much fun. Well who says you can't have fun with him right here, staring at you like you were a piece of candy. Yeah nope. Time to go home. Vibing with the music, you slowly start to step back as everyone at the pong table started to talk to Jaeyoon. After stepping far enough, you turn on your heel, ready to strint away. Feeling someone grab your wrist, you're turned around with so much force you crash into a hard chest, hands going to his shoulders to stabilize yourself. Looking to see who stopped you, you're met with a cocky smirk, adorning the face of, well you guessed it.

" Where are going? I thought you were having fun so I came to join you. And you decide to leave without telling me? I'm hurt princess. " He says, the smirk only getting bigger as your blood boils with rage. This fucker. If given a chance to wipe out someone's existence completely, you'd choose him.

" Yeah well. Since you're here, it won't be fun anymore. "

" Oh is that how it is? "

Nodding yes, you step away from him, crossing your arms as you try to look tall next to his broad, tree like, super climbable figure. Stop it. Don't think of him like that. Not now at least.

Running his tongue on the inside of him cheek, he looks down at you. He looks hot. And angry?

" Well princess, I'm hurt. Right here. " Pointing at his chest, he moves closer to you. Breath hitching, you stare at him wide eyed, as his face comes to your eye level.

" You seemed to have forgotten out arrangement princess. "

What is he talking about. Was he drunk? Sniffing, you check if he was drunk. He wasn't. Which is shocking. Grabbing your upper arms and pulling you near with his hands, his lips move to your ear.

" I'm not happy with the way you were getting so close to Youngbin. You shouldn't do that when you have me. "

" Excuse me. What. " You say, breaking free from his grip. Looking at him, your face screams, 'Are you crazy'. Well someone should.

" What the fuck do you mean ' you're not happy'. Last I checked, I'm a free independent woman, who is single, and would very much like a cute caring boyfriend AND who doesn't just wish to be someone's fuck-buddy. So if you may, I'd like to go ask out Youngbin. " Smiling bitterly, you try to make your way around Jaeyoon, only to be grabbed by the wrist and pulled back into Jaeyoon's muscular chest.

Glaring at you, he starts to walk towards his room, a path you aren't new to, as his grip on your wrist tightens, pulling you with him. Entering the room, he pushes you in, then locks it. Stumbling, you grab his chair so you don't fall. What. The. Actual. Fuck.

" What in the actual HELL is wrong with you! What the fuck dude. Why are you acting like this all of a sudden? Is it cause I was actually happy flirting with Youngbin? Last I checked, I don't belong to anyone. And especially not to you. So don't go around acting like you're my boyfriend because you aren't. And don't at all act like you care about me because the whole wide freakin world knows that you care about no one but yourself. So move, before I kick you so hard you'll have to go the hospital. " To say you were angry would be so wrong. You were furious. His existence infuriates you.

" I like you. "

" What? " Is he for real? Manipulation? Really?

" I'm not trying to manipulate you. I really do like you. And I wasn't happy seeing you get touchy with one of my friends. " Is he a mind reader or something? Probably. I mean he does know what you want when you just whine and writhe under him as he pleasures- Wait no! Stop.

" Why tell me now? " You ask calmly, well as calm as you could get without letting your guard down.

" Because... I don't know okay! I just, I just couldn't stand there as he got close to you. When it could've been.... Well could be me.... " He said slowly. You've never seen him so, vulnerable. He looks like a sad puppy.

" I'm sorry but, are you sure? " Chewing on your lower lip, you wait for him to reply. How can he like so suddenly. It's not natural right?

" I am. I really like you. And I want you to be my strong independent girlfriend. I want to take you out on a date. A real one. Many dates. Please just give me a chance. You won't regret it. " Taking your hand in his, he rubs his thumbs over your knuckles. Dramatically, you life your eyes up, only to find him looking at you with puppy eyes. Nodding your head slowly, you swallow. Breaking a grin on his face, he places your hands on his wide shoulders as he connects your lips for the first time this evening, his hands wandering from your waist to your hips.

" Oh baby. I'll make sure you never regret this decision. " And with that he places his hands on your ass, tapping it so you jump in his arms. Obliging, you connect your lips again, wanting to feel them melt against yours as you process what's happening. Placing your on the table, he removes yours and his jackets, throwing them on the floor somewhere. Moving close to your seated figure, his hands find themselves on your neck, tilting your face up to kiss you again and again till you're both out of air in your lungs. He slowly grinds his hips to your front, your knees going around his hips as your hands tug at his shirt.

Stepping back he removes his shoes and shirt, exposing his well toned chest and abs to you. Removing your footwear and freeing your hair, you beckon him to come to you as you bite your lip seductively. Smirking, he obeys you, coming as close to you as you want. Lips meet your neck, one hand to your hair, pulling it till your head tilts back exposing the flesh on your neck to him, his other hand wandering up under your top. Hunching it in your palms, you remove your top as he wastes no time to undo your bra, freeing your breasts to the cool air of the room.

Kissing down your body, his lips latch on to your left nipple, hand toying and twisting the other. Arching your body into his face, you grab his hair, pulling it like you always do. Releasing your nipple with a pop, he begins to undo his belt with one hand. Raising his free hand to your head, he advances in your direction till your chests meet, skin to skin, heat to heat, and lips meet once more.

Without breaking the kiss, he discards his pants, leaving him in boxers. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he lifts you up moving the two for you to his bed. Gently he puts you on the matress, hands finding the button of your jeans, undoing it and pulling them down your legs. Staring in your eyes he bites his lip, freeing it sexily he leans his face down to your neck, kissing, biting and marking you with little lovebites.

Rotating your head to the opposite side you gasp when you feel his fingers rub your folds over your panties. Lifting your upper body off the bed slightly your hands grab hold of his wrist that's on your needy mound. Keeping them there you begin to grind yourself on his fingers, releasing breathy moans of constricting pleasure.

" Fuck princess, you look so hot grinding yourself against me. Let me take care of that for you. " He whispers on your ear, chills travelling down your body reaching just where you need him. Letting go of his wrist, you grab onto his shoulders, pulling him down to kiss him again. Moaning in his mouth when he moves your panties to a side with his fingers, touching your wet pussy. Groaning at how wet you are, he easily slips in two fingers in your hole, pumping them slowly. Breaking the kiss you curse at the feeling of his thick digits moving along your entrance.

" Oh fuck. Yes- Please don't stop " You gasp when he touches your g-spot with his fingertips at the same time his thumb finds your clit. Increasing the pace of his fingers, he presses his nose on your cheek, breathing out ragged breaths as he grinds his dick to the matress at your moans. Roughly he rubs your clit pulling out as you cry in protest, feeling empty. Opening your eyes at the loss of warmth above you, you feel his hands pulling your panties down your legs, noticing his hard length, tip so red he would probably cum if your wrapped your mouth around him. Ripping open the condom, he rolls it on his cock, forcefully making your lay on your back as he enters you whole. Crying out at feeling so full with his dick deep in your pussy, you arch your back adjusting to his thick length. Slipping an arm below you when you do so, he licks your lower lip, biting it and pulling at it.

Drawing his hips back just a little, he slowly starts to ease himself in you, body rocking against yours, hair falling down on your forehead, hands grabbing your waist to keep you in place. Pressing your fingers into his back you chant his name, encouraging him to go further and faster. Being the mind reader he is, he pulls out almost whole, before ramming his cock in as fast as he can. Screaming out in pleasant surprise you hug him tighter, allowing him to go faster and faster till you lose your voice.

" Princess. You're so tight around me. Yes baby, scream my name " He growls in your ear deeply, the coil in your stomach getting tighter with each thrust, feeling full till your stomach every time his dick is balls deep. And feeling just as empty when he drags out. Your hole stretched out to accommodate his thick girth, making you think it might tear open. Jaeyoon is driving his cock in and out of you so rapidly you can feel you juices leaking out of your pussy, drawing you closer to your orgasm.

" Jae. I'm gonna- I'm close " You warn him, wanting to cum undone together.

" Yeah baby me too, fucking scream my name for me princess. Please I need you to. Scream princess! " Rubbing your clit, he freezes at sensation of your walls closing around his dick just as tightly as your legs close around his hips. Screaming his name out so loudly, your body jerks and squirms shamelessly as you cum on his cock, squeezing his till he's dumbfolded above you and helplessly cums in the condom.

Falling on top of you gently, he catches his breath, chest heaving heavily as you slowly unclench your legs and pussy, also catching your breath, enjoying your post orgasm euphoria. Whimpering when he pulls out, your body convulses around air, still not over your high. Blinking your eyes, you close them slowly, feeling tired out due to the mind blowing orgasm you just had.

Feeling a damp cloth on your sore folds, you open you eyes unwillingly, looking at your 'boyfriend' who's cleaning you up. And who has already worn sweats. Going back to the bathroom, he throws the towel in the laundry basket, returning to the room and handing you one of his shirts and clean boxers. Shyly you put on the clothes given to you.

" Oh don't go all shy on my now when you were just screaming my name a few minutes ago. " He says laughing. Blushing you wait till he comes to sit behind you, laptop in one hand.

" Wait what about the party? " You ask, wondering why he's switching on his laptop.

" Eh. It's just another party. And I have you here now. You're all the party I'll ever need. " Pulling you close by your waist, he makes you sit between his legs, covering your legs with his comforter. Throwing a pillow on top of the comforter, he places the laptop on it, playing a newly released movie. Nuzzling into your neck, he pulls you closer and wraps his arms around your frame as you both started your first binge session.

[emwritesfootball]

Dérbi de Lisboa | Rúben Dias

hey Em, can you do Rúben Dias praise kink smut, like a bit similar to a Eric Dier, where the reader plays for Benfica female team and plays against rivals and she scored like 4 goals, but Dias is super proud of her and keeps saying "good girl"

Word Count: 830

Warnings: oral sex (female receiving), praise kink, etc

- - -

You smiled down at your phone, reading the text you’d just received.

Rúben: Good luck tonight

You: Wish you could be here

You put your phone away, not waiting for a response as you tried to focus and put the fact that your boyfriend wasn’t able to see you play anymore now that he was away playing for Manchester City. You missed him like crazy, but you weren’t going to tell him that - not when he was about to win all sorts of titles with his new Premier League team. Instead, you were going to play your heart out on the pitch tonight, and FaceTime him when you got back - either crying if you lost or recounting every second if you won.

It was the last Dérbi de Lisboa of the season and you didn’t want to fuck it up. Benfica had had horrible results from the previous matches and you were determined to get your name on the scoresheet and show everyone what you could do.

***

You took your place on the pitch to Darlene’s right, nodding at her in the silent unspoken communication that the two of you had developed over the season. When the whistle blew, nothing else mattered but scoring goals.

The crowd was deafening when you put the ball in the back of Pereira’s net before the fifth minute, performing the goal celebration you’d been thinking about since Rúben left. It was created with the intention of letting him know you were thinking of him even countries away, and you just hoped he’d gotten to see it.

By the time the first half ended, Benfica were up by three; you’d put in two of those and lodged an assist from Darlene’s goal. The team was buzzing with excitement in the changing room, trying not to get your hopes up too high because there was still another half to play. You didn’t dare look at your phone, not wanting to jinx all your good luck.

The second half was just as good as the first, if that was possible. Sure, you’d given up possession the first few minutes and Sporting had managed to get one back, but the counterattack was brilliant. Spurred on by the thought of getting a hat trick, you raced down the pitch with the ball, slotting it right underneath Pereira’s outstretched arm to the roar of the crowd.

The final score was 5-2 to Benfica, and you were a heady combination of exhausted and exhilarated as you celebrated with the team, everyone laughing and hugging and crying.

“You were amazing out there.”

At first, you thought you were dreaming. Hearing Rúben’s voice felt like a dream, but you quickly realized it was very real. “You’re here?” You asked, incredulous. You disentangled yourself from your teammates, your tired legs carrying you forward until you reached Rúben. He held you in his arms, spinning you around as you both laughed. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

Rúben shrugged. “I asked Pep for permission. I just couldn’t miss my girl’s big match, and I’m glad I didn’t.”

You took him home with you that night, both of you unable to keep your hands off each other. You hadn’t seen him since the winter holiday and you needed to make up for lost time, especially now that you’d won the Dérbi and were on a high.

“I’m so proud of you,” Rúben whispered, laying you back on the bed as he kissed you soundly. You realized he was wearing your kit as you reached for him, kissing him back with everything you had. “Seeing you score was so sexy.”

Your stomach dipped at the praise and you arched your back as Rúben kissed his way down your torso, sliding your joggers and panties down your legs so he could reward you for all your hard work on the pitch. “Fuck! Rúben!” You cried out, your hands finding his hair as he started to lap at your dripping core.

“Good girl.” The praise rolled off his tongue before he slipped two fingers inside you and before he sucked on your clit. He whispered dirty things to your pussy as he made you cum multiple times on his fingers and mouth. “Look at you; such a mess after all your hard work,” he smirked, his lips shiny with your juices. “My good girl.”

“Please, Rúben!” You begged, reaching for him. “I need you inside me.”

Rúben kissed you until you couldn’t think, driving his cock into your sensitive pussy. “Good girl,” he murmured over and over again with each thrust until the both of you were cumming together.

“I’ve missed you,” you whispered, your head on his chest as you both caught your breath, your fingers tracing patterns on his sternum. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

“Me, too,” he replied, pressing a kiss into your hair as both of you drifted off to sleep, finally able to get proper rest now that you were back in each other’s arms.

[featherymalignancy]

How About a Hug, Hm? REMIX

So a few days ago I got this ask about my Elriel one-shot “How About A Hug?” because I messed up the formatting and I you basically have to to read it as a reblog. I also was really unsatisfied with the end result.

So, I did the most Feathery™️ thing every and REWROTE THE WHOLE GODDAMN THING.

Please enjoy, and know that I will go back and tag people/clean up formatting tomorrow. Right now I just need to post and 😴

——————————————————

Elain Archeron was running late.

Granted, it was only by seven minutes, which—in many social circles—was still considered well within the accepted boundaries of punctuality.

The problem was that a) being late made Elain anxious, and b) there was absolutely nothing polite about Nesta Archeron when she was made to wait, even by her own kin.

Yet another reason it had been critical that Elain arrive on time: Nesta was already likely to be somewhat hacked off when she saw what Elain was wearing tonight, and Elain had hoped to avoid any further dramatics on her elder sister’s part.

She spent half the cab ride downtown trying to convince herself that it was fine that she’d borrowed something out of Nesta’s closet (even if it had been without permission) and that she hadn’t had a choice; she simply didn’t own anything appropriate for dinner at a four-star restaurant. However, by the time the cab slithered under Trump Tower’s unsavory shadow and into Hell’s Kitchen, she’d given up pretending.

The truth was she had half a dozen cocktail dresses that would have been perfectly suitable for dinner in the West Village, even if the place they were going was one of the nicest sushi restaurants in the city. No, Elain had raided Nesta’s closet for a far more embarrassing reason: she’d been in search of a dress she hoped might finally win her Azriel’s attention.

She wasn’t proud of the absurd crush she had on the guy, but it really couldn’t be helped. He was gorgeous, and smart, and darkly funny when he wanted to be, and she’d been secretly mooning over him since they’d met through Feyre’s fiancée three years ago. God, what she wouldn’t give to have him return even a fraction of her feelings.

Apparently not her dignity, Elain thought with a glance down at her neckline.

The worst part was that Azriel seemed oblivious to her interest in him. He was always polite to her, always made a point to talk to her when he caught her hiding out on the balcony during one of Feyre and Rhys’s crazy parties or sit next to her at their big family dinners, but he’d never once given her any indication that he was in any way that he reciprocated her feelings, which should have been reason enough for Elain to pack it in and stop harassing him.

And that was to say nothing of Mor.

Mor was the friend who’d first introduced Feyre and Rhys, and from what Elain could gather, she and Azriel had a long and complicated history. It didn’t seem to matter that Mor had been dating the same girl for over a year now. When she was in the room, Az’s eyes were always on her. Not that Elain blamed him—Mor was gorgeous in a way girls like her could only dream of being. Still, there was no denying the sting of watching the guy you were interested in pine over someone else.

Given all this, Elain wasn’t really sure why she’d gone to such lengths to dress up for this dinner. Mor would surely be there wearing something incredible and couture, thereby rendering everyone else invisible to Azriel. Still, Elain was a hopeless optimist, and she’d stubbornly sold herself on the idea that if she found the perfect dress, she could finally convince Azriel that she was a woman worthy of affection, rather than Nesta’s bookish, boring little sister.

She had to admit, there was nothing bookish about her tonight. The dress was tighter on her that it was her waifish sister, and dear god it deserved a Medal of Honor for the way it managed to keep her boobs looking so perky even without a bra. She didn’t suppose Nesta would be too happy about that bit, either, so she could only hope her sister was in a good mood by the time Elain arrived.

Just then Elain’s phone buzzed, and she looked down at it and groaned. It was from Nesta.

Where the 🤬 are you?

Running late, Elain quickly typed back. Is everyone waiting?

She watched the gray ellipsis pulse at Nesta responded.

Feyre and Rhys aren’t even fucking here yet. But hurry up, Cash is already driving me insane.

Elain rolled her eyes. She wasn’t sure who Nesta thought she was fooling when she and Elain shared a bedroom wall. Nesta and Cassian, Rhys’s other best friend, ended up banging almost every time they saw each other, which—since Rhys and Feyre had gotten engaged four months ago—was fairly frequently. In fact, Cash was at their apartment making Nesta scream so often that Elain had been forced to invest in earplugs and a sound machine. From Elain’s perspective, it seemed rather pointless of Nesta to pretend she wasn’t completely hot of a guy she called “Daddy” in bed.

Elain shuddered at the thought, hoping that Nesta would end up going to Cash and Az’s loft in Williamsburg tonight instead. Though, she realized glumly, they only ever seemed to go there when Azriel was out, and the only person who seemed able to keep Azriel out later than Cash was Mor. That meant Elain’s options were either to pop an Ambien and hope for the best, or stay out and watch Az make moon eyes at Mor all night. Neither one was particularly appearing.

Elain ignored Nesta’s text as the car pulled up outside the restaurant and she wiggled out, smoothing the back of her tight dress before giving her curls what she hoped was an artful tousle before slipping inside.

Elain’s heart felt into her stomach as she took in the elegant but understated interior of the famed Sushi Nakazawa. Given the prices, she’d assumed the place would be all black granite and swanky chandeliers—the kind of place cleavage like hers wouldn’t seem out of place. Instead the place was elegantly spare and distressingly well-lit. God, she was such a prize idiot.

Unfortunately, she was also out of time, because a quick survey of the interior found that her group was already gathered at the bar, Mor, Feyre, and Rhys having showed up in the interim between Nesta’s text and Elain’s arrival.

Elain’s eyes went to Mor first, who stunned in a cardinal red lace and net sheath. It clung to her frame like it had been made for her, and despite a latent jealous she couldn’t quite contain, she was relieved to find that she at least wouldn’t look overdressed.

Elain’s stomach only wended in a tighter knot when Mor’s eyes fell on her and lit up, a reminder that not only was Mor prettier, she was also an infinitely better person than Elain.

“There she is!” Mor beamed, coming forward and hugging Elain. “I love that dress, Ellie!”

Elain braced herself for Nesta’s inevitably remark, but it was actually Cash who reacted first.

He’d opened his mouth to comment seemingly before he’d actually looked at Elain, because the second he realized what exactly she was wearing, his eyes they snapped the ceiling, as if looking at her chest directly might turn him to stone.

“Whoa, El, all dressed up tonight!”

Nesta, wholly unmoved by his attempted chivalry, elbowed him in the ribs.

“Don’t be vulgar Cassian!” She snarled before narrowing her eyes. “And that’s mine!”

Cash smirked, seeming more at ease now that Nesta was his target.

“I knew I’d seen that bef—ow! Goddamnit woman, what was that for?”

He scowled down at the dangerous stiletto Nesta had just jammed into his toe box.

“Sorry,” she cast over her shoulder, not deigning to look at him. “Did I accidentally step on your foot?”

“I’m an adult,” Elain interjected, cheeks burning as she faced her sister down. “Stop acting like I’ve fourteen and stuffing my bra.”

“They’re just boobs, Nes,” Rhys added, arm slung over Feyre’s shoulder. “Relax.”

“Watch it,” Nesta warned him, but Feyre only laughed.

“I agree!” She said, turning to smile at Elain. “And I think they look amazing.”

“If I’d have known they were going to be such a topic of conversation,” Elain mumbled, grateful Azriel wasn’t here to witness this circus. “I would have worn something else.”

“No, I’m with Feyre,” Mor said, wicked grin forming. “Breasts that nice deserve to be shown off.”

Elain wasn’t so humble that she didn’t feel herself preening a bit at that comment, even if she was still flustered by the prolonged attention. Either way, she was grateful when Cash interrupted with a somewhat sheepish laugh.

“Teenage me would be furious if he heard me say this, but can we please stop talking about boobs?”

“Elain’s boobs or just any boobs?” Feyre said with a smirk.

However, before Elain could admonish her for it, Feyre was crushing her into a hug.

“Hey you,” she said, wrapping her arms and Elain’s neck and whispering in her ear, “let me and Rhys know if you wanna stay at our place tonight; Cash already grabbed Nesta’s ass twice when she thought we weren’t looking.”

Feyre indicated the mirror behind the bar with her eyes as they pulled away, and sure enough, Elain watched Cash’s hand as it drew lazy, dangerous circles just above the swell of Nesta’s well-formed behind.

Elain groaned, hugging Rhys now as well. God , her sister was such a hypocrite sometimes.

Ignoring a lingering twinge of annoyance, Elain forced herself to glance in false realization before casually asking, “So where’s the Birthday Boy?”

“He was on his phone out back,” Rhys said, before raising a hand in greeting to someone over Elain’s shoulder. “There he is.”

Elain tried not to look to eager as she turned and drank in all six feet four inches of perfection that was Azriel Macar. He was dressed all in black, from his prada boots to the soft, expensive t-shirt fitted enough to show off his toned physique. Elain honestly had to fight not to swoon as he ran an effortless hand through his glossy sable hair, the longer pomaded pieces on top stand up for a second before falling into an artful tousle.

“Hey Ellie,” he said, gaze on her and gone so quickly that he never even had time to notice her much-discussed cleavage. Instead, his eyes flicked to Mor and held for a long, meaningful beat before he turned back to Elain and added politely, “Thanks for coming.”

“Sure,” she chirped, trying to ignore the fact that he was coming closer, and that in another second she’d be able to smell that divine Givenchy cologne he always wore. “Of course!“

She bent her head, pretending to be fixing the clasp on her bracelet as his scent hit her and she had to bite back a groan. Sweet Jesus, he smelled good. When she looked up again, everyone else was shuffling to their table and Azriel was lingering, a soft smile threatening to the reveal the absolutely devastating dimples in both his cheeks.

“Do I get a hug?” He asked. “It is my birthday after all.”

He extended his arms, and she gave a nervous laugh, accepting the gesture by stringing her arms around his neck.

“Of course,” she repeated stupidly, trying to ignore the way the muscles in his arms flexed as he embraced her. “Happy Birthday.”

At this he squeezed her a little tighter and she fought off genuine giddiness.

It was a friendly gesture, she warned herself, and it ended the minute Mor called, “Az, come sit by me.”

Elain cleared her throat as he pulled away, turning to where Mor was still beckoning. However, before Elain could get too flustered, he turned back to her.

“Shall we?” he said, indicating Elain go ahead of him. To her delight, they reached the table to find that the only two seats left were next to each other. She tried not to give her eagerness too much leash as he pulled out her chair for her before sinking into the one between she and Mor. Mor leaned over to give him a soft peck on the cheek, and he flushed.

“Where’s Emmy tonight?” Feyre asked as Mor tried to wipe the lipstick from Az’s copper skin and he battered her away, like child trying to fend off an over-bearing mother.

“She’s sick, poor little thing,” Mor said, giving a tiny pout. “She hasn’t been able to get out of bed in days.”

Elain didn’t bother to her disappointment. Emerie had been one of Nesta’s best since they’d met in college almost ten years ago, and she not only was she like family to the Archerons, she also happened to be the only person in the group who knew about Elain’s crush. Elain had sworn her to secrecy at the time, and though it would have been reasonable to assume that once Emmy knew, Mor would know, Elain appreciated that she could trust Emerie to keep her secret.

Elain felt Emerie’s absence keenly and Nesta and Cash began bantering back and forth at lightning speed. Emerie was a master at slowing the tempo of Nesta’s quick wit, making it easier for Elain in particular to feel she could keep up.

More selfishly, Elain also missed Emerie’s ability to keep Mor distracted. When Emmy was around, she was all Mor could focus on. However, in her absence Mor’s attention had reverted almost completely to Az, a fact he didn’t seemed to mind a single bit, if his growing smiles were any indication.

Still, he seemed to be going out of his way to make sure Elain didn’t get lost in the chaos of conversation surging around them, even if he never looked at her for more than a moment or two before his eyes flicked back to Mor, studying her dark brown eyes and crimson lips.

After they placed their drink orders and the waiter came over to begin explaining the omakase menu, Elain wondered if she had time to dodge under the table to throw on some lipstick of her own. Assuring herself everyone was suitably distracted she bent down, hastily uncapping the tube before looking up just in time to see Nesta brush a very deliberate hand between Cassian’s splayed quads.

Elain jerked back, banging her head on the table.

“Fuck!” she swore quietly, straightening and rubbing her head.

Nesta shot her an alarmed look across the table and Elain flushed.

“All you alright?” Azriel asked, and she tried not to bleat in excited panic as his fingers brushed the back of her head. “What happened?”

“I—dropped something,” she fumbled, cursing her sister for being such a salacious wench.

Wasn’t it enough that she and Cash were already going to keep her up all night? Did she really have to make Elain look silly in front of Azriel, too?

“Does it hurt?” Azriel said, still studying her head before letting his eyes go to the server. “Do you need ice?”

“No, no,” Elain said hurriedly, trying to regain her composure. “I’m fine.”

“Did you at least find whatever you were looking for?” Mor asked, and Elain’s flush deepened.

“And then some,” she grumbled to herself, and Cassian gave a quiet but unmistakable laugh before letting out a surprised exhale. Elain had a fairly good idea what Nesta was squeezing to shut him up.

“Should we order, then?” Mor asked, hand falling onto Azriel’s arm. “Any particular requests, Birthday Boy?”

“He’s thirty now,” Rhys pointed out. “I think that makes him a Birthday Man .”

“Birthday Old Man,” Cassian amended. “Don’t worry champ, I’ve already put some viagra in your bathroom.”

“You’re not supposed to share your prescriptions, Cash,” Azriel said with mirth, eyes sparkling even as his face remained neutral. “And besides, I would feel dead back if you needed one tonight and couldn’t find them.”

“Checkmate,” Mor purred as Cash flipped her off.

Beside Azriel, Elain was fighting not to blush again. Cash’s comment, however sophomoric and lewd, had her imagining what Azriel was like in bed. She wondered for a moment if Mor knew before dismissing the thought and the twinge it induced.

“Let’s put this poor souls out of his misery and order,” Feyre said, smiling at the server where he still waited patiently. “Maybe if Cash’s mouth is full, he’ll stop talking.”

Cassian grinned, and, after placing their requests for the chef’s tasting menu, they all settled into an easy conversation. Cash and Rhys regaled them with stories of Azriel at various ages, from the gawky child he’d been when they’d first met him to the shy teenager who’d been terrified of girls.

“Let him be,” Mor said, touching her friend’s shoulder. “He was sweet in high school!”

Rhys laughed.

“It took him a year to pluck up the courage to say three words to you,” he pointed out.

“And they were ‘here’s a pen’ in response to you asking him the time. Nice work, Shakespeare,” Cash said, attempting to muss Azriel’s perfectly styled hair before being batted away.

“I can’t imagine Az ever being awkward,” Elain blurted. “I bet girls thought he was mysterious and cool.“

“See?” Azriel said, gesturing to Elain. “This is why I sat over here.”

“Oh please ,” Rhys said, bubbling his lips. “Ellie’s just being polite. If you two had known each other in high school, we all know how to would’ve gone: you’d have had an obscene crush on her and your dreams of true love would have been dashed after she politely signed your yearbook ‘have a good summer, Adrian’, leaving you heartbroken and alone.”

Azriel gave Elain a soft smile, and her heart burst open as thousands of butterflies flitted out of it.

“I hate to say it, but he’s probably right,” he told her. “I assume high school Elain was very popular.”

“She was,” Feyre said. “Eight different guys asked her to prom.”

“I’m not surprised,” Az said, and Elain made a great show out of drinking out of her masu to avoid having to answer.

She was relieved when the food began arriving to distract everyone, if only to save her the temptation of telling Azriel that there was no universe in which she wouldn’t have been into him, high schoolers or no.

Instead discussion turned to the Feyre and Rhys’s wedding as they ate, and as final plates were being cleared, Cash took the opportunity to once again mocked Azriel for the fact the latter had lost the rock-paper-scissors competition to be Rhys’s best man.

“I lost on purpose,” he told Elain quietly, taking a sip of the Yamasaki Single Malt he’d ordered after dinner.

“Why?” she laughed, following his gaze across the table to where Cash and Nesta were now bickering about whether Rhys’s stag night in Vegas would be better than Feyre’s hen do in Napa.

“Because Rhys told me that you’d convinced Feyre to pick Nesta as her maid of honor, and no offense, but your sister terrifies me. I’d much rather be with you.”

She laughed, biting her lip. It felt so terribly like they were flirting, but she couldn’t decide if it was her imagination or not.

“She terrifies everyone,” Elain said. “And I have a feeling this won’t our last trip down the aisle together.”

Azriel only quirked a bemused brow at this, which had Elain flushing scarlet.

“Not like that! She laughed, fumbling to pretend the idea of them being together was absurd rather than her heart’s desire. "I meant for Cash and Nesta’s wedding. Don’t tell me those two aren’t going to end up together.”

“We’ll have to work out a custody agreement when they finally get over themselves and start dating properly,” he agreed. “I’m spending a fortune on earplugs.”

She laughed, and he seemed warmed by the gesture, because he flashed a modest—albeit dimpled—smile being turning back to the larger conversation.

After dinner they’d gone a cocktail bar, then an Irish pub, and finally—much to Azriel’s chagrin—a karaoke bar. Rhys and Cash spend the majority of the evening trying to wrestle Azriel on stage while Mor and Feyre sang duets to Beyoncé and Spice Girls.

Elain was content enough to sit back and simply observe the scene as it unfolded around her. It was hard to contain her giddy, dreadful anticipation when Mor left around one to check on Emerie and Azriel—besides bidding her farewell with a soft kiss on the cheek—didn’t move a muscle.

Less than an hour later, Cash and Nesta both disappeared about an hour after without so much as a goodbye. Elain groaned, hoping they’d be asleep by the time she got home.

She’d have to rally if she wanted to manage it; they would be at it for hours yet.

By three the place was clearing out, and besides them, only a few tables of marathon drinkers and a girl on stage performing a beautiful rendition of Fleetwood Mac’s “Landslide” remained.

“We’re gonna go,” Rhys said, arm slung around a rather drunk, giggling Feyre. “Ellie, do you want to come with us?”

Elain glanced at Azriel, who’s glass still had two fingers of whiskey in it. If she wanted a chance to be alone with him, this was it.

“I think I’ve got one more in me,” she said, smiling.

“If you mean drink, I’m in,” Azriel said.

“Oh c’mon, brother,” Rhys goaded. “Just one song. I wouldn’t even film it….much.”

“Do Beyoncé!” Feyre chimed in, and Azriel shook his head.

“You know I’d play in traffic before I ever sang karaoke,” Azriel said mildly, making Feyre laugh. "Thanks for coming.”

He rose, embracing Rhys and pressing a kiss on Feyre’s head.

“C’mon, my little drunkard,” Rhys told her. “Let’s get you to bed.”

“Let’s have sex when we get home,” Feyre said, her attempted whisper fully audible. Rhys pretended smack his forehead with his palm and a mimed, “ Oh brother ”, to Azriel and Elain before coax a still-singing Feyre outside.

Azriel chuckled before draining the last of his drink and rising. Elain pretended not to notice the way his well-tailored jeans fit his lean legs and…other parts of his anatomy as he adjusted his belt buckle and glanced down at her.

“Bud Light?” he asked, and she nodded, bobbing to her feet as well.

If she wanted a way to get closer to him that was more elegant than her increasing urge to crawl across the table and into his lap, this was certainly it.

“I’ll come with you.”

He flashed her a modest smile before indicating she lead the way. He ordered and waved off Elain’s attempt to pay before leaning on the bar to avoid towering over her. The gesture brought them nearly eye-to-eye, and Elain had to actively fight not to let hers roll back in pleasure at the bergamot and amyris wood notes in his sinful cologne. Up close Elain could see how much green he had in his hazel irises, and she wanted to tip into them and swim until she drowned.

“Did you have fun?” she said, desperate to get the conversation flowing again, and he smiled, making her stomach flop.

“I did, yeah,” he said, glancing around the bar in bemusement, as if still wondering how he’d ended up there. “Thank you for coming.”

Elain shrugged, grinning.

“You say that like you didn’t think I’d show,” she said, resting a cheek in her hand. She knew by now her expression was not her less than a swoon, though she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Hadn’t been this been her plan all along? Finally get Az’s attention long enough to tell him how she felt? Now was the best chance she’d probably ever get.

“No, I figured would,” Az said, interrupting her reverie. “Or hoped you would, whatever.”

Was that—

Did that mean what she thought it did?

Normally she would have chalked it up to wishful thinking, but the way he rubbed the back of his neck, dimples appearing as he huffed what almost sound like a sheepish laugh, had hope igniting in her chest.

“What does that mean?” she pressed, forcing herself to meet his gaze.

For the first time all night, he didn’t look away. Instead, his eyes skated back and forth across her face, as if she were a riddle he only had seconds to memorize. She watched, transfixed, as he wet his plush lower lip with his tongue before biting it almost self-consciously.

“It means I’m glad you came,” he admitted. “And that you didn’t go home with your sister and Rhys.”

It wasn’t the confirmation she’d been hoping for, and the ambiguity of the statement had her conviction waning. That could just as easily have been mean platonically, and if she pushed him and ruined things between them by making it awkward—

“Of course I’d be here for your birthday,” she said, giving his shoulder a playful shove. “That’s what friends are for.”

She couldn’t help the way her voice got stuck on the word, not when her throat suddenly began to clog with tears.

She had to get out of here, right now. Before she started crying and made things worse. She made to retract her hand but Azriel grabbed it, grip gentle but intent.

“El, don’t go,” he said, and she was surprised at the frank discontent in his normally-impassive expression.

She waited for him to explain himself before instead he let out another strained laugh, grip on her wrist easing. However, he didn’t let go entirely, choosing to intertwine their fingers instead.

Holding hands.

She and Az were holding hands.

And he—

She glanced back up to find he was studying her again, his face a mixture of terror and delight. When she gave his hand a soft squeeze, he let out the breath he’d been holding.

“Jesus, I am bad at this,” he said, reaching up to tuck a curl behind her ear. She wasn’t sure if she’d imagined it, but she thought his gaze flicked down to her lips as he continued to study her with heavy-lidded eyes.

“Bad at what?” She asked, though she’d begun to suspect she knew exactly what, even if it seemed too good to be true.

“At least my timeline is improving,” he breathed instead. “And I haven’t offered you a pen you didn’t ask for yet.”

Hoping she wasn’t misreading the situation, she let her finger trail down to trace the circular buckle of his Gucci before glancing back up at him and purring, “Do you have a pen?”

He smirked before raising his right wrist and glancing at his watch face over her shoulder.

“It’s….3:17 am,” he said, smile spreading as she gave a low sound of approval and flicked her gaze to his lips.

“Smooth,” she said, and tried not to lose her mind as he let his raised hand fall to the back of her neck and bent to kiss her.

He had almost girlishly full lips, and they opened for her as they settled into the kiss. Immediately his hand tangled in her hair so he could alter her head position slightly and get a proper taste of her. She groaned into his mouth he pulled at her lower lip with his teeth. He tasted like oranges and the expensive Japanese whiskey he’d been drinking all night, and pleasure tightened in her low belly as his tongue brushed hers. Her brought his free hand up to cradle her face, and in response she pushed closer to run her hands underneath of his shirt and down the silken skin of his back.

“Fuck,” he breathed with a heated half-laugh, nose brushing her cheek as he bowed into her touch. “You’re killing me, woman.”

She only smirked, feeling more confident now that she had before. She could hardly believe this was happening, but she was too excited about it to fully care.

“Let’s get out of here,” she said, and he bit his lip, as if restraining himself from kissing her again.

“Like to another bar?” he asked, dazed as he continued to stare at her lips.

“Like to my bed,” she said boldly. “Or yours, depending on where Cassian and Nesta ended up.”

He didn’t speak immediately, just studied her, and she panicked.

“I mean, only if you—I’m sorry, should I not have—?“

He only kissed her again in response, more gently this time.

“Please stop apologizing,” he said, kissing her jaw now before seeming to realize something and pulling back, brows synced.

“I—Jesus, do you seriously not know?”

She felt a bit sheepish at his incredulous tone and fought not to stiffen.

“Know what?”

He laughed softly, though their was a edge of self-deprecation in it that kept the gesture from seeming conscending.

“I really am the worst at this.”

“At what?”

“El, I’ll crazy about you. I have been crazy about you since we met.”

“You have?” she blurted, horror fading into genuine—if elated—confusion.

He laughed.

“Did you think it was coincidence that you and I are always sitting next to each other at dinner? That I always find you at Rhys’s dumb parties?”

“I—“ she began, still trying to decide if this was a dream or not. “What about Mor, though?”

“Mor?” he repeated, confused now, too. “What about her?”

“I thought you and she—“

He leaned in to brush his nose against hers, and she blushed at the innocent affection in the gesture.

“Not at all,” he assured her. “I did have a thing for her in high school, but I got over it after she and Cash slept together at prom. We’re just friends, I swear.”

“But she’s always touching you, and every time I see you together you can’t stop looking at her.”

At this he laughed, his smile so genuine and open she almost didn’t recognize him.

“She’s always been touchy-feely,” he said. “She grew up in Madrid, and people are just more affectionate there, I guess. And I only watch her when you’re around because she called me out for having an absurd crush on you, and I was afraid she was going to get drunk and blow my cover by telling you.”

Elain shook her head, still not quite believing what she was hearing. Reading her expression, he bent to kiss her softly.

“What guy wouldn’t be crazy about you?” he breathed. “You’re incredible.”

This seemed to break the spell, and she twined her fingers in his hair and pulled him down for another steamy kiss.

“Text Cash,” she said a little breathlessly when they broke away. “I don’t want an audience.”

She couldn’t felt but feeling smug when he almost dropped his phone at those words. It felt good to know that she wasn’t the only one affected by all this.

“Cash and Nesta are at the lof—“ Az began after a minute, but Elain cut him off with a kiss.

H rose, pulling her against him as his tongue brushed the roof of her mouth.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he said as she kissed his neck and tugged on his earlobe with her teeth, earning a low groan. “You’ve been drinking.”

She grabbed his chin so he would look at her.

“Not that much,” she said, and it was true. “And besides, I wanted this way before tonight.“

“Good,” he breathed, pressing a hand to her low back to bring her close to him. “Because so have I.”

Though they spent the majority of the ride up town and the elevator up to her apartment making out, something seemed to shift as Elain’s door clicked shut behind him, as if the gravity of what they were about to do had finally caught up to them.

Reluctantly Az peeled his lips from where they’d been glued to her neck as he took a small step back, as if to give her space.

“What’s wrong?” She asked, feeling embarrassed for how much she still wanted him even now that he seemed to have come to his senses.

“Maybe we should—” he broke off, looking somewhat guilty. “Hold off.”

She nodded, trying to keep the tears at bay again.

“Are you worried this could mess things up in the group? Because I understand—“

“No,” he said hurriedly, coming forward again, as if he could no longer stand to be away. “Not at all. I just—you’re special, El. You deserve to be taken out and spoiled.”

“Az, you just took us to a $1,800 dinner! Or did you think I didn’t see you pulling our server aside?”

Azriel opened his mouth, and she covered it with a finger.

“You don’t need to earn my affection. It’s yours already, free of charge.”

“I’ve just been—I waited so long to make my move and I’m terrified of fucking it up,” he said with a soft laugh.

“Why, are you bad at sex?”

Azriel laughed, seemed to relax at her teasing.

“I’ve never had any complaints,” he breathed again her lips, kissing her deeply again.

She gently bit his lower lip in response.

“Then I’d say you’ve gotten nothing to worry about,” she said, kissing him a third time.

She moaned softly when drove his fingers into her hair, hips canting towards her as he pressed her more fully into the door.

She could feel his body’s reaction to her pressing between her thighs, and she moaned again.

“Fuck,” he breathed onto her skin. “You are so gorgeous.”

“So are you,” she said, running her hands up the back of his t-shirt and feeling the mosaic of muscles flexing underneath. “Take this off.”

He laughed and pulled the offending garment over his head, making her groan in delight.

“God, this body ,” she breathed, running a hand down his chest and enjoying his shiver at her delicate touch.

He responded by spinning her away from him and gently dragging down the zipper of her dress until he could slip a hand inside of it.

“I knew you couldn’t have a bra on underneath this thing,” he said, voice a touch smug as he cupped both bare breasts and her breath caught in her throat..

“I’m surprised you even noticed,” she said, voice somewhat. “I wore this dress for you, and you didn’t even look at it once the entire evening.”

She laughed, the sound into a soft moan as he twisted one nipple in experimentation. When she sighed and let her head fall back onto his shoulder.

“Of course I noticed the dress,” he corrected. “You have the most perfect tits I’ve ever seen. I just knew that if I let myself look, I might not be able to stop looking.”

“You shouldn’t say that until you’ve seen them without the sorcery of underwire,” she said.

With that he spun her to face him, catching her gaze to ensure he had her permission before tugging down the top of the dress so her breasts fell free.

“Gorgeous,” he said, easing to his knees so he could replace his fingers with his mouth. “Absolutely gorgeous.”

“If I known this was going to be your reaction, I would have worn a bodycon dress in front of you ages ago,” she said, threading her hands through his hair as he dragged his teeth and tongue along her nipple.

“You don’t need some tight dress to be sexy,” he said, resting his chin her her sternum so he could gaze up at her. “I’d take you in your overalls and pigtail braids any day.”

“Is this some Pippy Longstocking fetish we should all know about?”

He grinned, rising to his feet and giving one of her curls a playful tug.

“Because as devastating as you are playing dress up in your sister’s clothes, I prefer you as you.”

“You can’t say that when I’m naked,” she said with a smile, touching his cheek.

“Why not?”

“Because I may start crying and ruin the mood.”

He cocked his head to the side, tracing her lips with a finger.

“I wouldn’t mind a few tears from you in bed. But only if it’s from you sobbing in pleasure.”

His words sent blood pooling south, the intensity cause a dull throbbing.

“Why do I feel like you could do it, too?” She asked, reaching down to free his belt as he heeled out of his boots.

“Don’t tempt me,” he said, taking her hand and guiding it between his legs. “Forget this,” he said, squeezing gently so she could feel how hard he was. “I could go down on your all night and be the happiest guy on Earth.”

Emerie had said as much once, at a drunken girls’ night.

Azriel strikes me as the type of guy who loves eating girls out. It’s why gay women find him so easy to befriend; we recognize kindred spirit.

Elain vowed to never tell the others she’d been right.

“Will you let me?” He asked, gently nudging her dressing off her hips until it came free and pooled at her feet.

“Is this a trick question?” She said, voice going hoarse as he slipping a hand into her underwear.

“Some people don’t like it.”

“I’m not one of them,” she said, he smiled, coaxing her legs around his waist so he could carry her.

“Thank God,” he replayed. “That would break my heart. Which way?”

She pointed him in the right direction before giving into temptation and kissing him again, looking to way she could feel like body reacting to hers as he held her close. Only when they reached her room—which was decidedly messier than she’d have liked considering Azriel Macar was now in it—did he set her down.

He wasted no time into coaxing her onto the bed, taking only a moment to admire the silky black thong she wore before dragging into down her thighs and discarding it.

“Spread your legs for me, El,” he said, brushing kisses to her knee as she slowly did as he commanded.

The light from the nearby street lamp made the room a lot less dark than Elain was used to during sex, and for a moment she though to be embarrassed or postpone. Then she glanced down to admire the contrast of Azriel’s inky black hair framed against the pale skin of her thighs, and she forgot what it even meant to be self-conscious as he finally put him mouth on her.

She swore at the first brush of his tongue, which was both deliberate and extremely delicate. She threaded a hand through his hair at his second stroke, the touch more intentional this time.

“Azriel,” she breathed.

She watched the muscles in his beautiful back shift at this, as if hearing her moan his name had untethered something in him. When he put his mouth back on her, it was clear he was no longer attempted to tease her. Instead he felt right to where she needed him most, refusing to relent until she tipped over the edge.

Even then he didn’t seem satisfied, it and it was only after he made her come a second time did he pull back, licking his lips before bending to kiss her.

“Take your pants off,” she demanded. "Right now.”

She felt him grinning against her neck as he peeled off of her, slowly working the buttons of his pants before sliding them down his trim hips. He wore black boxer briefs underneath, and he honestly looked like an Armani model. She bit her lip, eying the sizable swell of him through the cotton.

“Those too,” she breathed, greedily drinking in his well-defined adonis belt and the bare trace of hair above the band.

He did as she commanded, and she nearly melted. Naked he was a God, all rippling muscles and smooth unblemished skin, save for the chest piece tattoo that extended onto his shoulders and halfway down his arms. She let her eyes sink lower. Even half-hard he was big, and her belly clenched.

Wasting no time, she urged him to take her place on the bed before kneeling at his feet and putting her mouth on it.

“Shit,” he hissed, driving a hand into his hand then down his face. “Ellie, you’re kiling me.”

She looked up at him through her lashes, and he growled in approval, seeming to decide something before breaking her grip on him and hauling her to her feet. He kissed her again, and she could feel his cock as it practically pulsed between them.

She still wasn’t sure she could believe it was for her, that somehow he wanted her as much as she did him, and had for almost as long.

“Condoms,” he breathed against her mouth. “I need to be inside of you.”

She froze.

“I don’t have any,” she said, dismayed.

How could she be so stupid? Why didn’t they stop on the way home? The closest bodega was six blocks, and she knew everyone who worked there. The last thing she needed was all of them knowing—

Azriel pressed a swift kiss to her lips before tangling from her.

“Where are you going?”

“To grab a condom.”

“Naked?

He flashed her a slight grimace, “Let’s agree you won’t ask where I get it from.”

“Oh Moses,” Elain said, face flushing scarlet as she listened to Nesta’s door creaking open.

Azriel was back in less than a minute, tossing an entire box onto the nightstand as he pulled open one of the foils with his teeth, using his free hand to push his damp hair, long enough to brush his cheekbones now that it wasn’t styled, out of his eyes.

“You found those distressingly fast,” Elain said, unsure if she was amused or mortified at the situation.

“Cash is predictable with his hiding spots,” Az said, eyes hooded as he stroked himself several times before rolling the condom onto his length.

“And why did you take the whole box?”

Azriel laughed softly.

“Because I have a feeling we’re going to need them.”

Without another word Az sank to his knees again, one hand lazily stroking himself to maintain his erection as he went down on her again.

This time it only last three seconds or so before he pulled back, resting one knee beside her hip to steady himself before pulling her onto his shaft in a single wet stroke. Using her left bent leg as leverage, he adjusted his angle, smirking at her low, guttural moan of pleasure.

“Good to know your g-spot is as sensitive as the rest of you,” he breathed, and she laughed and tugged him into an ambitious rhythm.

Soon the only sound was their shared breathing, and the sliding on their bodies against one another. She came first, and he followed even before the dizzying waves of pleasure ceased. He pumped lazily in and out of her for another half dozen stroke before gently extracting from her and peeling off the condom.

She curled against him, cheek pressed to chest as her hands continued to explore. Her fingers caressed his swelling pectorals and each of his abdominal muscles before lazily venturing back between his legs. He gave a hiss of pleasure as she began to work his silken shaft in earnest, and in minutes he was fully ready again.

He groaned when she snatched one of the condoms and rolled it onto him before swinging a leg over and sinking astride him.

Her third orgasm hit her only a short time later, and she sighed when he bucked up into her before going languid under her ministrations.

She leaned down to kiss him as he ran a soothing hand down her back.

“Jesus,” he breathed, pressing his forehead to hers and swirling his hips, still inside her despite his orgasm. “That was incredible.”

She purred her contentment, feeling something even more alluring than desire swell in her chest as he discarded the second condom and tugged her into his arms, tangling their legs. He still smelled like cologne, but it had mixed with her perfume, and sweat, and the scent was intoxicating. She wanted to bath in it—in him—until she died from bliss. She listened to his breathing even out, and as she was drifting off to bed, he felt his breath ruffle her hair.

“Do you like pancakes?” he murmured. “I want to make you breakfast in the morning.”

“Really?” she said, looking at him over a shoulder and melting at the warmth in his smile, less guarded now than it had been even hours before.

“I want to make breakfast for you every morning,” he breathed. “I have since I met you.”

She smiled, nestling closer to him.

“I’d love that, but I should probably be the one making you breakfast. It is your birthday, after all. You have to let me give you something other than a bj and a few orgasms for your birthday, even if it is your dirty 30.”

Az choked on a laugh.

“Say you‘ll dinner with me, then. No family or nosy friends around, just us.”

“I think the word you’re looking for it ‘date’,” she said, laughing as his cheeks flushed before realizing something. “Or is the idea just too formal for the situation? I know we did things a bit backwards...”

“We did,” he agreed, stroking her cheek. “But that doesn’t mean I want to spoil you any less. So yes a date, if you’ll still have me.”

“I will,” she said, meeting his hazel eyes before gently kissing him. “With pleasure.”

He smiled against her mouth.

“Then that’s the only birthday gift I want or need from you.”

She smiled, feeling happy to the point of bursting when he kissed her ear and closed his eyes again.

"Happy Birthday, Az.”

His hum of contentment vibrated through her back.

“The happiest,” he breathed.

[mypoisonedvine]

Quid Pro Quo | Maria Hill x reader

summary: when Agent Hill calls you into her office, it’s the least you can do not to come running.  but either way, you’re gonna come quickly.

word count: 1.8k

warnings: smut!, oral sex f receiving, a touch of overstimulation, workplace relationship, subtle d/s undertones, but other than that it’s just some relatively wholesome established relationship smutty smut!

“Agent Hill needs to see you in her office,” Christine told you quickly as she stopped by your desk, making you nod in acknowledgement as you hoped your face hadn’t given away your excitement.

You didn’t want to seem too eager, too rushed, lest someone question why you were champing at the bit to do more work and realise that work wasn’t the issue at all, so you tried to finish the report you were working on first.  But of course you couldn’t finish a report when all you could think about was Maria; Maria, with all her looks that lingered, all her slanted smiles and little touches on your back and shoulders.  She knew exactly how to keep you on edge all day, until you were so close to snapping that you’d do anything she asked.

So, you just stared at your computer screen for a few moments, glancing at the clock and wondering if time had suddenly began to stand still because it had felt like hours of waiting in less than a minute, before finally jumping up and walking down the hall and into the elevator to make your way to Maria’s office.

You tried to compose yourself when you stepped out onto her floor, turning into the hall and following the familiar path as you found her door half-open, where she was standing by her desk on the other side, bent down to write down on something there.  She looked so focused, and it took a knock on her ajar door to get her attention as she promptly looked up and you waved hello.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” she nodded, standing fully upright.  “Come in, and you can go ahead and shut the door behind you.”

She was so stern, so composed and frightfully stoic, that for a moment you wondered if you’d misunderstood and this was really a business call after all.  The moment the door was shut though, her entire demeanor shifted as he smiled and pushed you right back up against it, pinning you to the frosted glass and kissing you slowly yet passionate.  You hummed contentedly and kissed her back, reaching up to rest your hands on her shoulders.

“Missed you,” she mumbled against your lips before slipping her tongue into your mouth, making you moan already.  “Did you miss me?”

“Of course,” you sighed, following her when she stepped back and guided you to her desk.

“I think you should make me come first,” she grinned, “because you get way to blissed-out and sleepy after I get you off.”

“Don’t need to tell me twice,” you chuckled as you dropped to your knees, ever-thankful that she was wearing a skirt today so you could just push it up and pull her lacy panties down her smooth, muscular thighs.  “I’ve been dreaming about tasting you all day.”

Her cocky grin fell into a slow sigh as you instantly latched onto her bud, sucking it just enough to make her moan, but leave her wanting more.  You darted out your tongue to slide through her slick folds, gathering the taste of her that you found there and letting it coat your mouth.  “Oh, fuck, just like that,” she encouraged as she reached down to hold your head steady, rocking her hips slightly.  You loved getting her off like this, with her still standing and still dressed; you loved being reminded that she was your boss— not just your boss, but your boss’ boss— and you were on your knees in her office where someone might walk in and see you both.

She wasn’t exactly riding your face, she couldn’t really do that while standing in heels, but she was rubbing herself on your tongue and it drove you wild.

“God, I’ve been thinking about you so much,” she groaned, “thinking about you when I get off, and I have to get off pretty often if I have any chance of focusing.  You know how much it drives me crazy knowing you’re just a few floors away, how much I wanna go down there and throw you over that desk and show everybody that you’re mine?”

You moaned, the sound muffled with your mouth preoccupied, but it was every bit as needy and desperate and raw as you felt.

“I’m already close, fuck, see what you do to me?” she laughed breathlessly.  “Can’t even keep it together, shit, I’m so close... baby I’m close, I’m gonna come.”

You nodded, not as permission (because she absolutely did not need your permission) but as a plea, as an expression of how badly you wanted her to come for you.

Her legs began to shake, and if you weren’t so thoroughly aware of how strong she was, you would’ve worried she’d fall.

“Yes,” she moaned, her head falling back, “ffffuck yes, right there— I’m coming, oh my god—”

You hummed happily when you felt her pussy spasm and contract, a stronger flavor of her rushing over your tongue and lips until it even began to drip down your chin.  Looking up at her, you reveled in how lovely she looked riding your face through her peak, that cool and composed Agent suddenly reduced to loud moans and sensitive whimpers.  She sighed and stepped back, pulling up her own panties and readjusting her skirt as she admired you knelt on the floor with pretty much the entire lower half of your face covered in her arousal.

“You look good,” she grinned.  “You look ready for me to return the favor.”

“I mean, I’m not gonna stop you,” you shrugged playfully as you stood up and wiped your face, though your coy attitude was lost when she grabbed you suddenly and tossed you down onto her desk, lifting your legs and spreading them as your dress rolled up your thighs.

“How bad did you miss me?” she interrogated as she began to kiss up your legs, your hips bucking up in search of more stimulation.  

“S-so bad,” you moaned, “Maria, you’re all I think about— I need you, please.”

“Yeah?” she pressed as her grin pressed against the sensitive skin inside your thigh.

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, groaning when her mouth teased you through your panties and your back arched up off of her desk.  “Please don’t make me wait anymore, I’ve been waiting so long,” you whined.

“You could stand to gain a little more patience,” she suggested.

“You could stand to gain a little more speed,” you shot back, getting what you wished for when she pulled your panties aside and spat on your pussy before devouring it, sucking and licking at you with all the vigor and intensity that you could handle (and then some).  “Fuck!” you sobbed, your body fighting the overwhelming sensations by trying to squirm away, but she grabbed your hips and held you down— your head spun to feel how much stronger she was than you.

Your eyes rolled back in your head when she slipped her tongue inside you, fucking you with it while still managing to brush up against your clit with each slide of it against you.  When she reached up and used her thumb to pull back the hood that shielded your clit, leaving your most sensitive places exposed to her, it was all you could do not to scream as your hands clawed at the mahogany desk beneath you.

She looked up at you as she took you apart, her eyes burning with that all-encompassing fire that made you feel hot everywhere, and it was nearly impossible to keep eye contact when she stared you down like that.  But you knew she wanted you to watch her do this to you, see that passion in her eyes that almost felt like it bordered on fury at times.

“F-fuck, don’t stop,” you whimpered, “Maria— I’m close.  Fuck, I’m gonna come.”

A little rumbling purr echoed from her, vibrating over your pussy enough to make you gasp.  When she did it again, it was the last thing that sent you over the edge, your walls tightening around her tongue as you bit down on your lip to keep from getting too loud; your legs quivered and clamped down around her head unintentionally, but even that wasn’t enough to deter her from fucking you right through it— and a bit past it, in fact.

“Oh god,” you whined, realizing she had no intentions of slowing down.  “M-Maria, I can’t— I can’t take anymore.”

She never stopped to respond to you in times like this; even a few words’ worth of a break was too much, apparently, and she just glared back at you with a look that said much more anyways.

“Fuuuuck,” you groaned, your hips bucking wildly as she applied more force to keep them still.  Your clit was throbbing, the sensations overloading your body and making your fingers and toes tingle with numbness for some reason.  You heard the most outrageous sounds pouring from your mouth and you could hardly believe it was you making them, your voice so wrecked and broken that it was entirely unfamiliar.  

The first orgasm hadn’t really ended when the second one began, so strong that you weren’t sure if you shut your eyes or if your vision just went black.  

Finally, finally, she let up, although she gave your swollen clit a little kiss at the very end just to see your whole body jolt in response to the gentle touch.

You sighed and fluttered your heavy eyes, melting into her arms as she helped you sit up.  “Told ya you’d get all sleepy on me,” she chuckled.

“Well yeah, but it’s your fault for making me come like that.”

“And by ‘like that,’ you mean twice?”

“I mean that hard,” you rolled your eyes, “and twice.”

“I’ll be waiting for my thank you card in the mail,” she winked.

“I have much better ways to thank you than that,” you smiled sleepily.  “Like taking you out to dinner tonight.”

“I thought the point of dating a subordinate was that I get to take you out and, you know, spoil you and stuff.”

“You’re thinking of a sugar baby,” you clarified.  “I’m not a sugar baby.”

“Then what made you so sweet, hm?” she grinned, kissing the little ticklish spot just below your ear.

“Maria,” you giggled, “I’ve gotta get back to my desk.”

“If you say so,” she sighed, lifting your chin with her finger before kissing you slowly and gently, already making you fall back into your trance as your arms wrapped around her neck and pulled her closer.  “Or you could just stay here and I could make you come for a few more hours.”

“Yeah, or that,” you mumbled dreamily into the kiss, feeling her smile against your lips as she leaned you back against the desk again.

[springfallendeer]

Today was a ride, towards the end.

Don’t get me wrong. Another shitty day. 5 of the past 7 shifts I worked, I didn’t have a closer. So I had to do the work of two people. At least today I was given permission to just tell customers to fuck off as opposed to having to make sandwiches all day.

Then of course everything has a weird sort of climax at the end. 45 minutes after I’ve closed and am cleaning, some guy shows up and gets all indignant. Over wanting a piece of salmon. Groaning on and on about how he came out specifically for the salmon, wasted the gas, and even called ahead of time to make sure we had it. (Meanwhile I’m here like “I see your cart full of groceries, dude. And I’ve also been the only worker here for almost three hours. If you called, you certainly didn’t talk to the actual person you needed to talk too.)

But then to top it all off

Some crazy lady turns up with two dogs, one of which is clearly a menace. I took the trash out then just start hearing the sound of a dog barking. I get up front and I see this dog barking and lunging at another customer. For the next few minutes, that dog is going after anyone who walks by. Even as I go to leave, the dog tries lunging at ME. Clearly not a service dog. I complained up front, letting actual managers know what was up.

[narutogwriting]

What about an angst and/or fluff scenario where kiba opens up to his s/o about his father? Like he acts like it doesn’t affect him but one day his gf asks him about it and he lets his true emotions out? I love your writing and thanks if you decide to do it!!

I’m so sorry this has taken so long to get to this! I am absolutely in LOVE with this idea! I have started and restarted this prompt a million times because I really wanted to do this prompt justice. I hope you like it<3

Why Doesn’t He Want Me?

Pairing: Kiba Inuzuka x Reader

CW: none

Length: 2.6k+

Summary: Kiba was raised by two strong women. He’s never felt like he was lacking anything not growing up with a dad. That’s what he tells everyone, anyways.

Inspired by a scene from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air you know the one

Kiba was a lot of things. Arrogant, confident, loud, sure of himself.  He was hot, and he knew it, and he loved to flirt. It was easy to take him at face value, accept him for the playboy he pretended to be. But that wasn’t really Kiba, you knew.

Kiba had been raised by the definition of strong women. Between his mom, Tsume, and his sister, Hana, there was no room in his life for disrespect towards women. Despite the way he liked to pretend he was a player, Kiba held a deep reverence for all the girls in his life. Any sort of misogyny he’d picked up in the early academy days had been thoroughly scared from his body the second his mom had gotten wind of it.

Fight like a girl? Run like a girl? Act like a girl? None of those things were insults to Kiba. He saw the way his mother and sister fought, the way they ran, and how strong they were. Kiba’s whole life had been shaped by having a mother and sister that raised him.

And Kiba loved the way he grew up. Sure, his mom could be a little scary at times. But she was tough and strong willed and independent. Hana was a little softer, though Kiba wasn’t sure how she’d managed to end up that way considering how hard their mother was. They were a perfect contrast to each other to help Kiba become a relatively well rounded guy.

Kiba knew that he had known his dad when he was young. He had been too little to remember him, but he had one picture of his dad holding him when he was a baby that was tucked away back somewhere in his closet. The few times his mom--in all her fury--mentioned his father, she’d vent over the way he’d left her alone with a two year old and an eight year old child.

She didn’t talk about him much ever. It was a sore spot for his mother, he knew. She didn’t have many weaknesses, but being left by Kiba’s dad had really done some damage to her.

It was out of love for his mom and respect for her hurt that Kiba made it a point to never even think about his dad. When people would ask about him, Kiba would sometimes make jokes that he’d been too weak willed to handle a woman like his mother, but that was the extent of him talking about his dad.

And he thought it must’ve been true, though. His mother was amazing. His sister was amazing. What other reason could there be for his dad not sticking around?

~

Kiba’s a young child again, so young that he hasn’t even met Akamaru yet. He’s at the playground, reaching for the monkey bars. He can see his dad on the other side, waiting for him. Kiba’s happy, confident. He’s just two years old; he’s never been let down before, never had a bruise that hadn’t been kissed or a scratch that hadn’t gotten a bandaid on it. He’s never reached for someone and been left on the floor.

So Kiba grabs for the first monkey bars, his eyes securely fixed on the rings above his head. He doesn’t think to look to make sure his dad was there, because hadn’t he always been?

He reaches for one ring, and then the other, and he’s going quickly, surely. He’s half way across when his eyes flicker from the bars above him to the ground below him, looking a million miles away. The distance scares him, he falters, and when he reaches for the next ring, he misses.

Little Kiba goes barrelling to the ground, hitting the wood chips. They soften his fall just a little, but it still hurts. His eyes water as his lips begin to tremble, and reaches out, blinking blurrily through the tears. 

He’s reaching out, and he’s waiting, and he’s expecting his father to be there, to pick him up and rescue him and comfort him. 

But he doesn’t.

When Kiba can finally see past his tears, all he sees is his dad’s back as he’s walking away, leaving him on the floor, crying and hurt and alone.

He yells out for him, begging for his dad to come back even as he’s disappeared into the distance.

~

Kiba wakes with a cry, sitting up startled. He blinks, looking around the dark room. He’s in his bedroom, and it was all just a dream, he realizes.

More of a nightmare, really.

Kiba’s breathing hard, and he realizes he’s shaking. He tries to relax, take deep breaths as his hand reaches for his cheeks and sees that they’re wet.

He’s crying. He can’t believe that he’s fucking crying. “What the hell…” He mutters to himself, shoving his fists to his eyes to try to stop the tears. It was just a stupid dream.

You sit up slowly at Kiba’s side, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Kiba? You okay?” You murmur through your yawn. Glancing at the clock, you see that it’s about three am. Kiba usually sleeps through the night.

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He mutters, but you know Kiba better than that. He’s shaken by something, and you slide one arm around him, resting your head on his shoulder as your free hand strokes through his hair.

“Kiba…” You say softly. He’s silent, but you don’t mind. You let the quiet drag on, letting him collect himself. You know Kiba doesn’t always have the words to describe what he’s feeling, and sometimes he just needs time to get his thoughts together. You wait patiently, hugging him reassuringly and letting your fingers massage his scalp softly.

After a while, Kiba sighs. “It was just a bad dream is all,” he tries to assure you, but you’re not so easily deterred.

“Do you want to tell me about it?” You ask him gently.

Kiba finally turns to you, seeing how you’re looking at him with those wide, concerned eyes. Since you’d been together, you’ve pushed him in the best ways. You had such a gentle, unassuming way about you that he’d never realized he needed. You were soft when he was hard, vulnerable when he was closed off, and you saw him when all he wanted was to hide away.

He never could keep anything from you.

He wipes at his eyes again, quickly, like if he does it fast enough, you won’t see it, but of course you do. You never miss anything  when it comes to Kiba. 

“I had a dream about my dad is all.” He says quietly, and you nod in understanding, but don’t say anything; just wait for him to continue.

Shifting uncomfortably, he tells you, “I was little, like two or something. I was on the monkey bars, and he was watching me, waiting for me on the other side, but when I fell, he left, and I was crying and shit. It’s stupid.”

“Kiba,” Your voice is low and soft, but stern, making him turn to look at you again. You’re gazing into his eyes so intensely it almost makes him flinch, but he stays locked in on you.

“It’s not stupid.”

And he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding in. This is another thing about you that is so great for Kiba. Sometimes he thinks he needs some kind of permission to feel, like he doesn’t deserve it or it's not important enough. 

And of course he doesn’t need permission, but you give it to him anyways, let him know that it’s alright to feel hurt and sad.

Kiba looks lost and broken and so sad it makes your heart clench. You love Kiba, love him so much. You can’t stand to see him like this.

“You don’t talk about him much,” You finally say, deciding to help Kiba by directing the conversation. He just shrugs, staring at his hands. “Do you remember much about him?”

Kiba shakes his head. “Nothing, really. I was pretty young. I know one or two things that my mom’s told me, but she doesn’t like to talk about him. I’ve never asked Hana… I’m sure she has more memories than me, but I don’t really want to know them.”

That makes sense to you. It’s too painful; in a way, it’s a sort of bliss to Kiba to not be able to remember anything on his own. To ask Hana, to hear stories about his dad, would only open up wounds that Kiba wasn’t prepared to deal with.

“It doesn’t matter anyways,” Kiba continued. “Ya know, it was just a dream. It’s not like it means anything…”  

He lays back down, tucking himself under the covers like he’s done with the conversation. But he should know better. You’re not going to let him off that easily. 

“Actually,” you touch his cheek with your hand, slowly turning his head to face you. “I think that that dream has given me more insight into your feelings than you ever have.”

Kiba stares at you blankly because while the dream upset him, he really didn’t think there was more to it. You lay down next to him, tucking yourself into his side as you stare up at him with affectionate eyes. You love this man more than anything.

“The monkey bars are the childish side of you, showing that these feelings are coming from a stunted place because you were too young to process it all.” You explain to him, and he’s looking at you like you're crazy, but you don’t mind. “Your dad was waiting for you on the other side, because you feel like you had to go to him, like it was your responsibility to be the one to initiate and carry the relationship. You have a great mom, Kiba. You should know a good parent is always there for their kids, not vice versa. “

You kiss his cheek softly as your heart aches for Kiba and his sadness, the kind that had been buried so deep, even you hadn’t seen it there.

“The reason that your dad walked away when you didn’t make it across the monkey bars is because you feel like you weren’t good enough, like you did something wrong, and that’s the reason he left....”

Your voice cracks as you speak the words because it’s so tragic, and it’s just not true.

Kiba was the most amazing person you knew. He was so great, so full of love, and everything you never knew you needed in your life. And to realize that for so long he’d been holding this feeling like he wasn’t good enough… It broke your heart.

The silence seems to drag on forever, and it almost makes you nervous. You can’t read Kiba in the darkness, and it’s so quiet. But he’s slowly beginning to shake, and when you touch his cheek again, you realize that tears are flowing freely down his face.

“Kiba,” You say, but he’s getting out of bed. You don’t know whether or not to go after him, but he’s just going to his closet. He’s reaching to the back, throwing things aside to get to whatever he’s trying to find.

When he finally does, he comes back and sits on the bed. You push yourself up to look at what’s in his hands and see that it’s a picture. It's crumbled and creased and has a small stain on it, showing you how old it is. A closer inspection shows a toddler Kiba being held by a man that looks almost nothing like him. You see that Kiba got his nose from his father, and despite having the same canines as his mom, the softer smile from him too.

Kiba’s gripping the picture tightly in his hands, and you’re almost afraid he’s going to rip it.

“You know,” he rasps out, his teary eyes locked on the picture in his hands. “It’s been years since I looked at this thing. When I was little, I used to look at it every day. I kept it under my pillow and would study it, to make sure that if my dad ever came back, I would recognize him.”

He sniffles, rubs his nose. “I would look at it every night and then every day, I’d look around everywhere I went, hoping I’d catch even a glimpse of him.” Kiba laughs through the tears, a dry, humorless laugh that makes you wince in pain for him. He crumbles the picture into a ball and chucks it at the wall.

“I don’t need him, you know?” Kiba’s trying to keep his voice calm and steady, but the words wobble as they leave his mouth. “What would I even want him for, anyways, huh? He’s never done anything for me! I got into the academy without him, I became a chunin without him! I’m becoming a great ninja! I got a beautiful girl. Everything I know, I’ve either learned from my mom or taught myself!” 

He’s getting louder and louder with each word. His hands are balled into a fist, but you take them in your own, pressing your lips to them gently until they uncurl. You won’t let his pain harden him.

“I’m eighteen years old now! I can’t even remember my father! I always tell people he left because he couldn’t handle my mom, because she was too good for him, and it’s true!” The last word is broken by a sob, and he’s trembling as he collapses against you. You hold him with all of your strength and love, pressing kisses over his head as tears start to fall from your own eyes.

“She was too good for him, and so is Hana. But, you’re too good for me! You’re way too good for me, and I would never leave you! So he must’ve… He must’ve been unhappy with me.” He cries out. You can feel his tears soaking through your night shirt.

“I must’ve not been good enough for him… Why wasn’t I good enough? Why doesn’t he want me?” And it’s the presentense that really sends you over the edge. Not wondering why his dad hadn’t wanted him when he was younger, but needing to know why still, even now all these years later, his dad wasn’t around.

So you hold him as he cries, and you cry along with him. You place kisses over every crevice of his body, whisper “i love you’s” into the crook of his neck. You reassure him, over and over in every way you can think of that he is worthy, that he is enough. That he is not defined by somebody so broken that they couldn’t love anybody but themself.

You tell him as much as you can, until it’s ingrained into his brain, that if and when Kiba decides to become a dad, he’s going to be the type of man that his own dad could only dream of becoming. That, despite the pain, despite the abandonment, Kiba has come out on the other side, strong and loving and kind and a good man. The type of man that you are proud to have in your life, and proud to love and be loved by.

It’s emotional, and it’s heavy, and you both are worn and exhausted by the time the sun is breaking a light blue through the darkness. Kiba falls asleep in your arms, holding you like you’re his only anchor. 

And you know it’s not fixed. Some things that are broken will always stay cracked. But it’s a start. For the first time, Kiba is healing. He is Kintsugi, the art of putting broken pottery pieces back together with gold. Though there are cracks in him, for the first time, with your love, he is seeing that he can fill those cracks in. He can paint them golden, become more beautiful, more whole than he was before. He will use that pain and that hurt that he’s felt for so long. 

He is worthy. He is loved. He will be a better man.