#apologies for the rage but it feels necessary today and always

[rin-fukuroi]

𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤. 𝐓𝐰𝐨 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 [𝐃𝐚𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐧𝐠]

Please do not translate or publish my works without my permission.

The originals of my works can be read here

Fandom: Honkai: Star Rail

Pairings: Dan Heng x fem!reader

Warnings: school AU, just fluff.

▶• ılıılıılıılıılıılı. Eve - 遊生夢死

Note: English is not my native language, so I apologize if there are errors in the text qq

I usually don't like to write smth like this, but I made an exception by writing this work once as a bday present for my dear friend. I still think I'm not very good at feeling this character, but I hope it's not too noticeable XD

You remember exactly when it started. You remember perfectly well when your life became so unstable and restless, but happy and saturated, as if filled with bright colors for the first time.

One look. Two words that planted a feeling in your chest that could be awakened by a man who barely decided to take the first step, which he will never regret.

✧ ✧ ✧

Thoughtlessly tracing the margins in your notebook with a pencil, you get bored, yawning quietly at the last desk in the middle row. The office is filled with the tired voice of the teacher and the quiet whisper of your classmates, who can't wait to go home. Raindrops patter softly on the windows, making you even more sleepy.

Today is your birthday. How ironic that it was on this day that the sky cried from the moment you stepped outside the school.

At least you'll be able to come home soon and get some sleep.

Your gaze lazily rose to the gray clouds. For some reason, no one around seemed to care about writing a synopsis or the raging elements outside the window. This day could have been much more intense if you had friends, right? Perhaps so. But you've always been comfortable being alone. Being alone also has its charms. You are always focused on your own thoughts, not filling your head with unnecessary meaningless chatter. Yes, from the outside, friendly communication really looked quite fun, but is it really necessary if now it seems to you that everything is in its place?

You sigh softly, about to return to your notes, when your gaze catches on another bored figure by the window. Exactly. There was always someone in the class who seemed like a kind of kindred spirit to you. For sure, Dan Heng thought about his life the same way you did. You've never seen him smiling cheerfully in the company of classmates. His gaze is just as extinguished, directed at the gloomy sky. Funny… You didn't pay much attention to him, but whenever this guy came into your field of vision, he looked like your reflection.

Although you can't even remember what his voice sounds like.

This does not mean that you never had the desire to talk to him, but you often found him reading another book or leaving school alone with headphones on. Perhaps these are just excuses for your self-doubt, but you sincerely believed that your company would be superfluous for him. Dan Heng always looks so cold, detached, but he doesn't seem to be bothered by the lack of any connection with society.

Just like you.

Hmm… if you think about it, he could have been quite popular with girls if he had been more sociable. His hair always looks so well groomed. Slightly curly short black strands gently shimmer even in the dim sunlight, barely breaking through dense clouds, contrasting against the background of bright turquoise eyes. Aristocratically pale skin and pleasant facial features. Yes, Dan Heng can definitely be called handsome. Maybe he's even your type.

Although, how do you know what your taste in guys is, because you've never fallen in love.

But when those expressive sea-green eyes meet yours, for some reason my heart feels so restless in my chest. Is it out of fear that you seem to have been staring at Dan Heng for a while so obviously that you even managed to get his attention? Yes, but… it was like there was something else.

You look away, burying your face even more in the palm of your hand propping up your head, turning back to your notebook. It was probably the first time you made eye contact with him. What is this feeling? Somehow… It's restless.

You flinch when you finally hear the loud sound of a life-saving bell, knocking you out of your embarrassing thoughts. It must have been so long since you talked to anyone but your parents that even such a small thing could throw you into confusion.

You hurriedly gather your things from the table, scooping them into a bag before heading for the exit, following the crowd that has already managed to run out into the corridor, when a strange hand of the man behind lands on your desk, enclosing you between his body and a chair.

«Wh-what?..»

You turn around uncertainly, facing the chest of a guy with an indifferent expression on his face. The fright on your face is gradually replaced by complete puzzlement.

— D-Dan Heng? Something happened? — has your voice always sounded so quiet or just this time?

— Did you bring an umbrella today?

— Huh? An umbrella? — your eyes widen with even more shock when two things put you in a stupor at once. This is a Tribute to Heng. He's talking to you right now. And asks… About the umbrella?! You're hardly sure you've ever heard his voice, but what he said now seems absolutely absurd.

— It's raining outside. I saw you looking out the window and thought you might not have brought an umbrella.

— Oh, that's right… Um… — you're nervously going over all the memories in your head up to the moment you left the house. And really…

Your thoughtful look, replaced by confusion, said more to Dan Heng than your tongue was able to utter now.

— We live not far from each other. I spend.

✧ ✧ ✧

«What's going on?!»

You awkwardly huddle with a silent classmate under an umbrella as you walk steadily in complete silence to the sound of raindrops hitting the asphalt. There are so many questions in your head that you would like to ask, but for some reason the words get stuck deep in your throat. How the hell does he know where you live? Why did I come up to you with such a strange offer in the first place? Why today?

There must have been some truth in the rumors that Dan Heng was a strange guy who didn't walk around the classroom quietly enough.

You give the guy short glances, having time to notice how calm he looks in such a situation. The same as always. You also notice how his shoulder gets wet from the incessant rain while he holds an umbrella over your figure, which is moving further away from him.

How embarrassing is this… You are gradually approaching Dan Heng, feeling the heat tingle your cheeks even under the cool breeze. It's just to avoid feeling guilty. No more than that.

The longer the silence hung over you, the more clearly your heart was throbbing somewhere in your ears, making you even more nervous. Are you so uncomfortable just because it's practically a stranger to you, or is it because it's Dan Heng?

Your eyes light up when the fence of your house is visible on the horizon. You can finally get through this stress alone.

— Um… we're here.

You both stop, and a short sigh leaves Dan Heng's chest, giving you an unreadable look from top to bottom. You've never thought about how much taller he is than you, but now it seemed like you were nothing more than a scared kitten cowering at his feet.

— Yes. Then… Till tomorrow.

Dan Heng's lips pursed up, and his gaze was blunted somewhere in the asphalt under his feet, which made you relax a little. Ah… he's probably embarrassed too, because you really look alike. It is unlikely that Dan Heng is used to communicating with anyone. He gives the impression of a man who voluntarily chose solitude, but for some reason he exudes sadness, the nature of which you cannot understand. You wanted to ask why he decided to accompany you, why today… But you just nod, grabbing the strap of your bag, hurriedly running to the door.

— Y/N!

For some reason, you were almost sure that this was not the end. Exactly… It wasn't sadness.

You turn around, meeting Dan Heng's furrowed brows, flushed cheeks and sparkling turquoise eyes as he tightens his grip on the umbrella in his hand, looking at you, seeming to carefully consider what he wants to say.

— Happy birthday…

— Huh? — it seemed to you that your heart turned over in your chest, pausing for those few moments that felt like an eternity while you stared into Dan Heng's deep eyes. In these quiet waves, which shimmer with soft ripples in his eyes, you can read tenderness, awe, which creep through your body with a tremor that you have never felt before. Your stomach is cramping with an unpleasant, but such a warm feeling that makes you even more nervous. It's all like a fever attack that will kill you if you don't hide behind your door right now.

You open your lips, whispering your answer, which probably only the rain hitting the roof of your house has heard.

— Thank you…

But Dan Heng heard you. That's probably why he hurried to turn around and head home as soon as possible, in order to hide the way the corners of his lips lifted in a soft smile under a wet umbrella.

[amhrosina]

I'm With You (Always) - Frank Castle x Reader

MASTERLIST // JOIN MY TAGLIST

A/N: This one ended up being a tad shorter than most of my other fics, but I felt like it told the story I was trying to tell. I didn’t want to drag it out if it wasn’t necessary. I hope you enjoy! Thanks for requesting, nonnie! <3

Request: Omg your fics always HIT 🫶🏻💀 I feel like there’s a bunch of fics of Frank comforting the reader, but none really of the opposite. Could you do something like that? I mean mans been through the mf WRINGER

Summary: On the 5th anniversary of Maria’s death, Frank grapples with the guilt of loving someone else (i.e., you) for the first time since her death.

(Warnings: it’s angsty as hell (sorry not sorry), cursing, frank is way too hard on himself, frank castle needs a hug!, reader comforts frank, all im asking marvel is for them to make him happy!!!!!!, references to what happened to Maria and the kids) 

Frank knew he should call you. It was the least he could do, considering the shit you’ve put up with for the past ten months. He’d put you through hell, showing up on your doorstep at all hours of the night, bleeding and in serious need of medical attention. It was something you handled with grace, even though he was undeserving of your gentle nature.  

He was a moody, cut-throat bastard, and you both knew it. He was emotionally withdrawn, irritable, and had very little trust left in him to give. But you never minded, and he spent most of his time with you perplexed at your ability to forgive and forget so easily.  

His phone buzzed on the coffee table, and he knew it was you calling without having to look. You had called him this morning, too, and left a short voice message about how you’d be free this evening, if he wanted to see you. The serene warmth in your voice had caused his chest to ache, an all too familiar feeling when it came to you.  

Of course, he wanted to see you. He always did, even when he was being the angry bastard version of himself that he hated so much. Your tone, so doubtful and hesitant, fueled a heavy rage in Frank’s heart, and he cursed himself for being the cause of it. He should fucking answer the phone.  

He watched as the screen faded to black. He hadn’t moved from his unrelaxed position on the floor, and he’d just ignored you, again. He shoved his face into his palms, running his fingers through his hair and tugging it in a motion fueled completely by anger. Anger wasn’t foreign to Frank – he'd had his fair share of things to be angry at – but this type of anger, the one caused completely by his own actions, was new to him.  

You didn’t deserve this. He didn’t deserve you, and he was actively fucking it up more as the night went on. Despair weighed heavy on his heart, and he wanted so badly to explain it to you – beg you for your forgiveness and apologize for being a broken man who still loved his wife, even years after her death. But the date on the calendar had paralyzed him, and he hadn’t moved from his hunched position in eight long hours. 

Five years. It had been five years since his family had been taken from him, and he was still just as broken as he was the day it happened. You knew, of course, that his family had been murdered in cold blood, right in front of him, but he’d never told you the details, and you never asked. You had no idea that today would push Frank beyond his boundaries, like it did every year, completely shutting down his ability to function. 

Frank used to let the rage consume him, let it burn through him until all he could see was red, but he had personally killed every fucker involved in the plot to murder his family, and once that rage had sputtered out, he was left with nothing but a massive, aching hole in his chest. 

This year felt a little different, if he really thought about it. The patch you’d begun mending in his heart was present, a gentle reminder that someone, somewhere cared for him deeply. But as hard as he tried to pick up the phone and call you, he couldn’t find it within himself to do it. Every time his thoughts drifted, and he ended up thinking about you, a pang of betrayal would wind its way through his chest until he felt like he couldn’t breathe. Would Maria be okay with this? Would she like you? Would the kids? It all felt very surreal to Frank, so he did what every other jarhead had been trained to do and shut it all down until the numbness finally overpowered the ache.  

His phone flashed with a notification, and he glanced over, expecting it to be a text from you, angry and done with whatever this thing was between the two of you, but it wasn’t. Of course, it wasn’t. It was you, and your kindness would always win when pinned against your anger. It was a simple message, one that Frank couldn’t figure out how to feel about.  

‘I’m coming over, and I’m bringing you dinner. I won’t stay, unless you want me to.’ 

Clearly you were aware something was going on with him, and his heart ached at the thought of you worriedly walking through Hell’s Kitchen to come to his aid. He thought about leaving, going out and walking around until he was sure you wouldn’t be here when he got back. You shouldn’t see him like this, so beaten down by life that he could barely move. He could text you, tell you to turn around and go home. Maybe you’d be so put off by his rude behavior that you would turn around without a second thought. 

Frank didn’t do any of those things though. Maybe he needed a lot of things, or maybe he didn’t, he didn’t know, but more than anything, he knew he needed love, and he would be a fool to turn down what you were trying so hard to offer him. He slowly picked up his phone and typed out a short response. 

‘Okay.’ 

- 

You stared at the door for three long minutes before you finally reached forward and knocked. The adrenaline that had been coursing through your veins earlier had caused you to rush into this plan, and now you were second guessing the bold text you’d sent Frank. Was it too much? Too harsh for him on a day when he deserved the utmost softness?  

His rapid response had fueled your hurried haze, and you had picked up your already-brisk pace, only stopping to rethink your plan when you arrived on his doorstep. You could take the coward’s way out – leave the bag of takeout food on his front steps and bolt before he opened the door – but something about that felt inherently wrong. 

The squeal of the floorboards on the other side of the door sounded, a precaution Frank had purposely installed to make him aware of anybody entering his home, and you tightened your grip on the bag. You didn’t know which Frank would be on the other side of the door, but you were determined to at least give him something to eat. 

The door swung open, revealing an incredibly disheveled looking Frank. The red sting of his eyes was immediately noticeable, and your heart broke looking at him. You wanted to hug him, kiss him, anything to remind him that you loved him, but you didn’t know how he’d react to physical affection on a day like this. A day of mourning, of loss, of immense and immeasurable grief.  

He glanced down at the food in your hands, and you stiffened at the thought of him taking the food and shutting the door in your face. You had given him that option, but the last thing you wanted to do was abandon Frank on the rare occasion when he needed someone else to lean on.  

“Hi.” You mumbled, raising your hand in an awkward wave. “I brought you food.”  

“Hi. Thank you.” His voice was a hoarse whisper, and your heart broke just a little bit more hearing the sorrow in it. He opened the door wider. An invitation beckoning you to come inside.  

You stepped through the doorway, awkwardly shuffling your feet as Frank closed the door and deadbolted it behind you. No one said anything for a moment. You didn’t know how to comfort this level of grief, but you’d always been taught to make yourself present in a grieving person’s life, so you ignored the awkward silence and tried to act like this was a normal interaction between you and Frank.  

“Have you eaten?” You asked, lifting the bag of food for emphasis.  

Frank shook his head. You turned, setting off towards the kitchen to unload the food. You’d gone a little overboard, probably, but you didn’t know what type of food he would want, so you got a little bit of everything. When Frank saw the spread of cuisines you had laid out on the counter, his eyes widened.  

“Did you stop at every restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen?” He raised an eyebrow at you, and you quickly turned away, unsure if you should feel ashamed under his gaze.  

“It’s,” you paused, trying to figure out what to say, “comfort food. I just didn’t know which kind was your comfort.” You shrugged, looking over the array of food in front of you. 

He shifted beside you, and you suddenly became aware of his hand on the small of your back. He pressed a long kiss against your temple and grabbed the box of Thai food closest to him. His affection eased some of the tension in your shoulders, and you leaned against the counter with him as he dug into his food.  

“Should I... I mean do you want me to...” your question trailed off as you motioned towards the door. 

He glanced between the door and your hand, still hung in the air in an awkward pointing position, and shook his head.  

“Stay.” He murmured, and added, after a pause, “Please.” 

Frank Castle didn’t beg, but you could’ve sworn that it sounded like he was pleading with you. Stay. Don’t go. Don’t leave me alone with my demons. You nodded and began to put the extra food in his refrigerator as he devoured his meal.  

The silence between the two of you was no longer awkward, now that Frank had made it clear that he wanted you to be here. As you finished organizing the contents of his fridge, he moved across the kitchen, grasping your hand between his and fiddling with your fingers. 

“How did you know?” He asked, eyes cast downward where your hands met.  

“About today?” You leaned into his hold, pressing your knuckles against his hard abdomen. He nodded, the only response he could give you at the moment. 

“I had a funny feeling when I woke up this morning, and then I hadn’t heard from you all day, so when Karen asked me how you were holding up, I sort of put the pieces together myself. I’m sorry if I overstepped.” 

He shook his head, bringing the tips of your fingers to his lips.  

“I don’t know what to say.” He murmured against your fingertips. You reached forward, cupping his cheek with your free hand.  

“You don’t have to say anything, Frank. I’m with you no matter what, okay? Whatever that means for you.” 

He nodded and leaned into your palm, closing his eyes.  

“I will always love Maria.” He mumbled, tears threatening to spill behind his closed eyelids. “But I love you, too. And, after Maria, I didn’t know I was still capable of that until I met you. Is that enough for you? To share me with someone who’s de-,” He stumbled over the word, clearing his throat, “Who’s dead?”  

You’d never heard Frank speak so plainly about Maria before, and the ache cascading from him was a palpable feeling. You held back your tears as you pressed your other hand to his face.  

“Frank, she was your wife, and she was taken from you. Of course, you still love her. I wouldn’t expect anything different.” You pressed your forehead against his, fully leaning into his warmth. “You’re always enough.” 

Your final statement had Frank collapsing against you, pulling you into a tight hug. His body shook with sobs against yours, and you clung to him like you would a life raft in the middle of the ocean.  

“I love you.” His voice was a muffled whisper against your shoulder. You lightly ran your fingers along the nape of his neck. 

“I love you too, Frankie.”  

“Thank you for coming over, baby.” 

“I’ll always come for you, Frank.”  

It was a promise you knew you would never break, and you’d spend your life proving it to him if need be. Frank would always be hurting, even in the good moments, and you were determined to show him a love deeply enough to help remind him during those times that he was cared about and loved, flaws and all.  

Tag List:

@xleiaorgana @mukbee @dilfs5678 @kokoterainonago666 @blackwidownat2814 @mymamalife @minervadashwood @emiemiemiii @h4rrys @messymissy @mylifeispainandiloveit @mossexe @fightmilk @spikedhe4rt @fictional-hooman @merleisapartygod @babyslyth @legocity2 @quackson03 @certifiedhunter @deliciousfestsalad @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @km-ffluv @chiaraxtargaryen @trulylavandedarling @D0wnbad @lilyevans1 @imagineadream @22carolina08

[tsukii0002]

Hii!! I like ur new write style!Today i came with a question, do u ever think what sin lillith would represent? I fell that will be smt about coward idk what do u think?

What sin would Lilith represent?

Another interesting question and also about Lilith. Believe it or not, Lilith is one of my favorite characters, why? Because knowing so little about her, anything can happen. You can imagine her personality, her problems, her story... something similar happens to me with the demon king and with Michael. But she is special, in a way she is the trigger of the whole story. So here I leave you my thoughts on our angel ancestor.

I headcanon that Lilith was an angel with great power, but she wasn't looking to be useful like Levi, she wasn't looking not to be a burden to others like Beel or to be recognized like Mammon. She just wanted to be happy, live her best life with her brothers and loved ones.

For this reason, when the fall happened and her brothers became demons, Lilith felt a great guilt. A guilt that would weigh on her shoulders for all eternity. For her happiness and her beloved, she had damned the people she loved the most and destroyed THEIR happiness. Here she would fit as a coward, she had let the others bear the consequences of their actions, she had not faced them, like a coward.

But I think there was something that weighed more heavily than guilt. The rage, the anger, the feeling of having been betrayed by her family, but above all a question, why? Aren't angels supposed to be the embodiment of good and justice? Aren't their goodness and love supposed to be infinite? Then why? Her father, the one who had created her, the one who had taught her to love, condemned her... for loving?

There are so many possibilities that it is difficult to choose one. The only thing I am clear about is that Lilith's transformation would be something like "the purest becomes the most demonic", therefore she would be a more fearsome demon than her brothers.

Lilith's resentment towards the celestial realm would really turn her into an even more powerful demon. She could be the avatar of resentment, unable to forgive; she could be the avatar of destruction or the incarnation of pain, a pain that haunts the soul...

And in that situation, he could have decided to go to the human world, to say goodbye to her beloved and to leave his seed throughout the human world, as a way of spreading evil throughout it. Thus, many thousands of years later, Lilith would meet one of the descendants of those seeds... or something like that 🙄🙄

.

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I'm sorry it took so long, I've been a bit absent, and I also apologize that this took longer than necessary. As always, many thanks to @kkcharm , your ideas are always very interesting and fun, they help me a lot to imagine and write.

.

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[herofics]

Hi , i honestly don't remmeber if i sent this request before bc i have bad memory so i apologize if i already did , CW for self h*rm , can i please request tamaki amajiki finding out his s/o self harms via scratching their arms on walls / bruising their own arms / legs as a way to deal with the guilt of not being able to control their anger better ? if its too specific you can do something less specific , thanks for your attention and have a nice day / night

Today is actually the anniversary for the last time I hurt myself, so I’ve been clean for exactly 2 years today. The relationship is pretty new in this. It’s really not my best work, but it’s okay I guess.

Tamaki was very observant, but he was always a bit hesitant to interfere with the things he noticed. He didn’t want to make anyone uncomfortable or stick his nose where it didn’t belong, but he was worried about you.

You weren’t doing so well again, you felt like your anger was bubbling just beneath the surface, and it would explode out of you if anyone crossed you in any way. So you aimed it inwards, all that anger, all that hate and rage. You didn’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings or get into a fight, you didn’t want to be so angry. It was a vicious circle of hating yourself for being so angry which fueled your anger even more.

You were lazing around in Tamaki’s dorm room, while he finished his homework. You’d already done yours so you had some time to just lay around. You were scrolling on your phone and came across some post one of your classmates had made. It was about Tamaki, Mirio and Nejire, about how they were a bunch of stuck up morons who thought they were special. You didn’t read any further, because your blood was already starting to boil. You dropped your phone on your chest and hit the floor next to you a bunch of times, way harder than necessary.

“Oh my fucking god people are idiots” you hissed as you sat up.

Tamaki was looking at you with a bit of an odd look on his face. You couldn’t really decipher what it was, but there was something mixed in with his normally anxious expression.

“What?” you asked, trying to get your anger to simmer down.

“You do that a lot when you get annoyed” he stated, putting down his pen and turning to face you in his chair.

“Do what?” you asked, tilting your head to the side, even though you knew exactly what he was talking about.

“You hurt yourself. I’m not sure if you do it on purpose or if it’s just a reaction to when you get angry but it’s not good either way” he said and got down from the chair, sitting on the floor next to you.

You shook your head, but you weren’t really even trying to deny it. You just sighed and leaned your head against his shoulder.

“I’m just so angry all the time and I don’t know how to control it without doing that. I don’t want to hurt anyone”

“But it’s okay to hurt yourself?” Tamaki asked softly, but his voice was full of worry.

“I think it’s the better option, yeah” you said quietly.

“I-I don’t want you to do that to yourself, I want to help you figure out something else that can help, something that isn’t self-destructive” he said adamantly, though anxiously.

“Can we just drop this? I don’t really wanna talk about it” you sighed with frustration.

“I don’t want to force you, but I’m sure there are healthier ways to deal with all your anger we could try to figure some out-”

“Drop it, please?” you interrupted him almost begging him.

Tamaki sighed. He knew he wasn’t good at confronting people, but at least he had told you he was aware of the situation. Maybe you could come to him the next time you felt like that.

“Okay, but I just want you to tell me if you feel like that, so I can try to help”

“I’ll try” you said, even though you weren’t really sure if you would.

[solarpunkifier]

Sometimes it just strikes me in full force that corporations will sacrifice the environment for more profit, knowing all the while that doing so will eventually kill both them and all of us - and still not fucking caring

[subbykboys]

new to this | taeyong

↳ pairing : virgin!taeyong x reader

Genre ➞ pure smut oof

Warnings ➞ sub!taeyong, corruption kink, begging, mild degrading, handjob, fingering (m. receiving), public-ish(?), mild choking, running into walls

Word Count ➞ 8.3k

requested by @ninachocoo

posted ; 3.08.21

Hot. God, it was so hot. 

Then again, summer in your part of town always was. But this heat— this heat was different. It surrounded you, pulling perspiration from your pores and clinging to you persistently. It spilled down your throat, filling your lungs with every deep inhale. It robbed you of any and all of your energy, leaving you too tired to rouse yourself from where you lay on the cool tile floor of your kitchen in front of the open fridge (the absolute coldest spot you could find in your entire house). 

You didn’t cope very well in warm weather, if that wasn’t obvious. 

And, at the cost of your poor housemate’s sanity, you always found new and creative ways to cope with the excruciating rise in temperature, 

“Y/n a few of my— how many times do I have to tell you to stop doing that?!” You couldn’t bring yourself to so much as flinch as the fridge door was abruptly slammed shut, only managing to pull a whining complaint from the back of your throat as your only source of cool air was ever so rudely ripped away. 

“Fuck you, Mark. It’s too fucking hot to worry about the stupid electricity bill.” You huffed, peeling your eyes open just long enough to shoot an icy glare in the direction of the scowling brunette. 

He crossed his arms over his chest stubbornly, lower lip jutting out. “I think you forget that it’s a combination of both of our money going into paying them, so I think that I have a right to worry about how much is coming out of my pocket because you think that laying in front of an open fridge is a good way to ‘beat the heat’.” 

“Offer me a better solution, I’m open to suggestions.” You sighed tiredly. 

He only rolled his eyes. 

“Oh! I’ve got one,” you exclaimed suddenly, clapping your hands together as a gasp of excitement flew from your lips, “How about I just strip down and walk around butt ass naked? That should do the trick! Oh… but little Mark would like that a little too much, wouldn’t he?” You offered him a taunting pout, feigning sympathy as you glanced down unabashedly towards his crotch. 

Instinctively, his hands flew to cover himself as his cheeks throbbed a devastatingly obvious shade of red, bright enough to rival even the ripest of tomatoes. “Y–you—” 

Your lips curled with an amused smirk, but it faltered at the sound of thundering laughter coming from behind your flustered housemate. Your eyes followed the sound, finding its source in a group of about five or so men crowding up the foyer. Brows lifting in mild surprise, you shifted your attention back to an even more humiliated looking Mark. 

“You brought company.” An apology hung at the tip of your tongue. You really tried to keep your pg-13 teasing to a minimum around other people, especially knowing how susceptible Mark could be to his own embarrassment. 

“Hey Mark, I thought you said your roommate was a raging asshole with the sex drive of a teenaged boy on viagra? She seems pretty cool to me! And hot.” One of the taller boys chimed, a massive dopey grin plastered across his face. 

You turned to Mark slowly, brows raised. But he wouldn’t meet your eyes, head lowered. He wasn’t good at hiding his guilt. 

Welp. No apology for ole Marky boy today. 

“Please, allow me to properly introduce myself to our company.” Mark's eyebrows jumped all the way to his hairline as you pushed yourself off the floor and tossed an arm around his shoulder. “My name is (y/n), but I suppose Mark's asshole roommate with the sex drive of a teenage boy on viagra could work, too.” 

The look you shot him out of the corner of your eye had him shrinking in on himself, regret shining in his big brown eyes. But, you ruffled his hair, a silent reassurance that you weren’t all that torn up about the comment, especially considering it was hard to deny the layer of truth that lingered within it. 

You’d probably subjected Mark to more than his fair share of sleepless nights while you were up into the early morning giving the man (or woman) of the night the experience of a lifetime. A few scathing comments to close friends was more than understandable when looked upon in that light. Besides, you were never good at holding a grudge against your sweet, awkward, puppy-eyed housemate. 

The tall one that had spoken before chimed in eagerly, “I’m Yukhei, but my friends call me Lucas. Xuxi works, too. Or papi if you're feeling especially— ow!” Lucas yelped loudly as a hand connected to the back of a head with a sharp smack. You watched in amusement as another tall, charming looking man tugged him back, shooting him a warning glare before turning his attention to you. 

“Ignore him. He has a bad habit of forgetting his manners around attractive women. My name's Johnny, it’s great to finally meet you.” The sweet, disarming smile he offered you had any reservations melting away, and you easily returned the gesture before he proceeded with introductions. “This Haechan, Jaehyun, Doyoung, and— Taeyong?” 

Johnny pivoted around, brief confusion settling across his face before he spotted whoever he’d been looking for. Reaching behind Lucas, he grabbed someone's arm, tugging them into your line of sight. 

“And this is Taeyong!” He concluded with a grin, slapping a large hand down on the shorter boy’s shoulder. Taeyong dipped his head shyly, not meeting your eyes as he murmured a soft greeting that you were just barely able to catch. Soft tufts of dirty blonde hair fell over large brown eyes as he bowed politely, the air of meekness unmistakable. 

Oh, he’s cute. 

Your lips curled into an impish smirk. “Hi, Taeyong.” 

A faint blush darkened his cheeks and you caught a hint of a smile upturning the corners of his mouth. 

Really cute. 

Mark knew you well enough to see the gears beginning to turn in your head and coughed loudly when your stare lingered longer than necessary.

“O-kay, now that you’re all acquainted…” he stepped in swiftly, opting to intervene before you could get any wise ideas about his friend. “We have got a group project to work on and it would be extremely helpful if you’d refrain from providing any distractions. I already have a hard enough time trying to get them to focus for longer than five minutes as is.”

“Aww but I wanna hang out with your hot roommate, Mark.” Lucas whined loudly, practically throwing himself across Mark’s shoulders as the cutest pout you’ve probably ever seen fell across his lips. “She’s got a way nicer ass than any of you guys.” 

Doyoung sighed, his face screwing in second hand embarrassment for his friend’s shameless behavior. “Lucas, please.” 

“Have some dignity, man.” Haechan huffed additionally and you grinned in amusement as he grabbed the collar of Lucas’s shirt and began tugging him towards the living room. 

“Don’t worry, Mark. I’ll stay out of the way. I would hate to hinder your geek fest.” You teased, wrinkling your nose as you stepped past him. 

“Thank you, (y/n). I really— wait, Geek f– it’s a project worth thirty percent of our final grade!” 

“To-may-to, to-mah-to.” You waved a dismissive hand over your shoulder, before pausing briefly. Spinning on your heels, you turned back to face 

the cute boy, who visibly jolted the moment your attention landed on him. “It was very nice meeting you, Taeyong.” 

“Y- you, too.” He stuttered sweetly and you had to fight the overwhelming urge to reach over and pinch those adorable pink cheeks. Either pair. 

With one last sultry smile, and a wink just to fuck with Mark a little, you sauntered back into your bedroom. Miraculously, you were no longer concerned with the previously unbearable heat plaguing your apartment. Now, you had something —or rather, someone— far more interesting to occupy your mind. 

Taeyong was having a difficult time focusing, which was pretty out of ordinary. He had barely gotten anything done with his assigned part of the project, less than half a page filled out with what little information he managed to collect. Luckily, none of the other guys seemed to notice, too distracted by their own inabilities to focus to take notice of his. Otherwise he would have to concoct some lie. But he wasn’t good at lying. He was a terrible liar, in fact. So he would probably just end up blurting out the truth which was you. You were the reason he couldn’t focus. You with your mischievous eyes and your pretty smile and intoxicating laugh. Mark’s asshole roommate with the sex drive of a teenage boy on viagra. 

He’d seen pictures of you before. But they didn’t do you any justice. In pictures, you were pretty. In real life, you were beautiful, charming, witty, sexy, and you winked at him. Girls don’t wink at him. Not ever. But you had. You’d winked and smiled at him and he wasn’t sure if you were just teasing him because he flustered easily or if there was a chance it meant something a little more than that. 

… he secretly hoped it meant something a little more than that. 

But he shouldn’t be thinking about you right now. He should be thinking about finishing his research. Not your eyes. Not your smile. Not your voice of the way you purred his name and those shivers rushed down his spine and he could have sworn something twitched— okay. That’s enough. He really needed to splash some water in his face, cool down a little before his mind wandered to places it definitely should not. 

“Ah— Mark?” 

The younger boy lifted his head, brows raising. “’Sup?” 

“Where’s the bathroom?” 

He perked, tipping his chin forward. “Oh, it’s to the right of the k— shit, wait. That toilet’s busted. Um, just use the one in my room. It’s at the end of the hall.” 

“Thanks,” Taeyong pushed himself up with a soft grunt, nearly tripping over Yukhei’s long legs as he maneuvered himself around the cluttered coffee table, “I’ll be right back.” 

None of the other guys took much notice of how quickly he rushed out of the room, much to Taeyong’s relief. He let out a low breath the moment he turned the corner and found himself in a vacant hallway, but that relief was short lived. 

Mark had only said that his room was at the end of the hall. But, there were two doors at the end of the hall. Meaning one of them could possibly lead to your room. And you were in your room. Which meant if he walked through the wrong door on accident… he could walk in on you. Oh god. Heat rushed into his cheeks at the mere thought of such a humiliating occurrence. For a moment, he debated turning on his heels and returning to the living room. 

But, he wasn’t ready to go back to studying just yet. He was still feeling flushed and antsy and needed another moment or two to himself. Plus… he was actually starting to need to pee a little. Damn him and his tiny bladder.

Hesitating, he gently knocked on the door on the right side of the hall then waited ten seconds. No response. Just to be extra certain, he knocked twice more before finally turning the knob. Cautiously, he peeked his head inside. The black out curtains were drawn tight so the room was dark, too dark to make out anything defining outside of the vague shape of a bed and dresser tucked into the far corner. It took a few minutes of stumbling blindly through the inky blackness, tripping over clothes and extension wires until he found what he hoped to be the bathroom door. 

Without too much of a second thought, he opened the door. 

Then he froze. 

He thought it was Mark’s room. He really did. He thought he was tripping over Mark’s clothes and Mark’s wires. Though, he probably should have noticed the light coming out from beneath the bathroom door, indicating that someone might be inside. Or maybe he did but ignored it because– because maybe Mark just left the light on. That could have happened. That totally could have happened. 

But it didn’t. 

Because it wasn’t Mark’s room. Those weren’t his clothes or his wires and he didn’t leave the light on. 

He realized this all too late of course. Because now he was staring at you. You who was wet and naked and… wet and naked. He couldn’t move. He couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t think. He could only stare, dumbstruck, mind short circuiting as billowing steam curled around the shape of your body like an iridescent veil, beautiful skin glistening under the soft golden light. Your head was tipped back, lips slightly parted, hands soothing your slick hair out of your face as the hot water cascading down the swells of your 

breasts and over the curves of your shoulders.

It was like watching something out of a pornographic shampoo commercial. 

“Oh—” it was somewhere between a whine and gasp, strangled and broken by the time it escaped his trembling lips. It was so quiet, you shouldn’t have been able to hear it over the hiss of water. So it took him off guard when your eyes opened and flicked in his direction. 

He flinched, body jolting backwards like it intended to make a break for it, but it was like your stare locked him into place. His brain was screaming at him to do something; to move, to  turn away, close his eyes, apologize, bash his head against the freaking wall, literally anything but stand there staring at you with his mouth open like a complete idiot. But he couldn’t. 

The corner of your mouth curled, forming into a downright devilish smirk that sent hot tendrils of desire spiraling through his veins. Then you quirked a brow and it was like a burst of electricity bringing him back to life. His hands flew up from where they’d been frozen at his sides, slapping so hard over his eyes that he yelped in shock at the sting. 

“Ohmygod I- I am so sorry! I am so—” he whirled around, spewing high pitched apologies as he scrambled for the door. Only, his eyes were closed so instead of bolting out the door he face planted into the wall next to the door. “Ow!” 

Your low laughter rippled through the small bathroom and red hot embarrassment raced up his neck and into his face. He could only whimper out one finally strained apology as he clutched his throbbing nose and stumbled back into the darkness of your bedroom, slamming the door sharply behind him. 

By the time he’d managed to scramble back into the hall, Taeyong felt like he was on fire. His heart was beating wildly in his chest and he was certain if he dared to look in a mirror he’d be the equivalent of a tomato. 

Humiliation gripped at his throat, squeezing painfully around his airway every time he recalled the previous events. He’d never be able to face you again. Not after that train wreck. Not ever. Groaning distraughtly, he sank against the wall, silently wishing that the floor would just swallow him up and put an end to his suffering.

But, there was something worse than the embarrassment. Something hotter and harder, throbbing shamelessly in the confines of his suddenly far too jeans. He saw you naked— wet and naked, looking like a freaking goddess beneath the stream of hot water, soap suds still clinging to your skin. He had never seen a woman like that before. Not in person, at least. And none as beautiful as you. 

Biting his lip, he squeezed his legs together, trying his best to will away his progressively hardening erection. That, of course, did not work. And it didn’t help in the slightest that every time he so much as blinked, the image of you in the shower came rushing to the forefront of his mind, still fresh and vivid and devastating. 

Oh god. There was no was no way he could go back to working on the project now. If he thought he was being unproductive before— he probably wouldn’t be able to get a single legible word written with the image of you and your body burned into the back of his eyelids. 

He was doomed. 

And he still needed to pee. 

Damnit. 

It was about nine at night when the low voices transformed into booming laughter, the walls practically vibrating under the barrage of stomping feet. It didn’t take a genius to deduce that they’d finished up on their project— either that or they mutually reached the end of their attention spans. 

Regardless, you were bored of remaining cooped up in your bedroom merely for the sake of your roommate’s econ grade and needed to stretch your legs a bit. Not to mention you were beginning to crave something greasy and unhealthy. You were almost certain the group of college boys lounging in your living room wouldn’t be opposed to some pizza, fries, and milkshakes from your favorite delivery place. 

“I don’t know about you boys but I’m starving!” You sang brightly as you all but skipped into the room. All eyes swung to you, wide and stunned as they watched you waltz over to where Mark sat in the love seat and throw yourself into his lap like it was the most normal thing in the world. He grunted under your weight, lip curling in annoyance but wrapped his arms securely around your stomach nonetheless. You pretended not to notice the lingering eyes of one particular boy, meticulously curled into the farthest corner of the couch. “Anyone down to order?” 

“Ugh please!” Yukhei exclaimed, throwing his head back dramatically. “I am dying of hunger.” 

The others were eager to voice their own agreement and you turned to Mark with an expectant smile. “Rubio’s?” He asked, already reaching for his phone. 

“Read my mind.” You hummed, pinching his cheek until he hissed and swatted you away. 

It was nothing short of chaos trying to get everyone’s orders, multiple overlapping voices making it hard to discern exactly who was asking for what, but somehow Mark managed to place all of the requests with only a handful of difficulties. Well, all but one. 

“Taeyong.” 

The boy’s head jerked up so fast at the sound of his name that you were surprised you hadn’t heard something crack. Up until then he’d been sitting quietly with his knees to his chest, staring at his feet, pointedly avoiding looking in your general direction. He could only hold your gaze for a few tense seconds before his cheeks flamed and he dropped his eyes. 

“I– uh– y- yes?” He coughed, blinking hard. 

You tilted your head, offering him an innocent smile. “Is there anything you’d like to eat?” You couldn’t stop yourself from adding an unnecessarily suggestive pitch to the question, words dancing wickedly across your tongue. 

Taeyong swallowed and pulled his knees tighter to his chest. “I– I’ll just have some of the- the pizza.” The words tumbled clumsily out of his mouth and your grin only widened as he became more and more flustered under the heat of your persistent stare. 

“Perfect. Then we can share.” 

The poor boy nearly choked on air when you abruptly pushed yourself off of Mark and sauntered over to where he sat, squeezing in between him and an eager Yukhei, who was more than happy to make room for you. His entire body went rigid, brief panic shooting across his features as you made yourself comfortable. It was tight with Jaehyun, Lucas, Taeyong and now you all squished onto the couch, so you were practically flush against him, shoulder to shoulder, thigh to thigh. You pretended not to notice that he was holding his breath. 

“Thirty minutes.” Mark announced, shutting off his phone and shoving it back into his pocket. 

“What should we do while we wait?” Jaehyun asked, ignoring Yukhei as he whined about how he’d be dead of starvation before the food even arrived. 

“Movie?” Haechan suggested. 

You perked. “I know a good one.” 

“No— no.” Mark cut in quickly, pointing a finger with the intention to reprimand in your direction. “Every time you pick a movie it’s either fucked up or really fucked up. So no.” 

“Don’t be a pussy, Mark.” You huffed, wrinkling your nose at him. “Just because you don’t like horror movies doesn’t mean your friends don’t.” 

“I, for one, love a good horror movie!” Yukhei remarked, a smug grin breaking across his lips as he shot a flirtatious wink in your direction. 

Haechan scoffed. “Bullshit! You couldn’t sleep alone for a week after we watched The Shining. And that wasn’t even scary!” 

“There was a tidal wave of blood.” He grumbled defensively, crossing his arms over his chest as he slumped, lower lip jutting out dramatically.

“No tidal wave of blood is this one, promise.” You snickered, snatching the remote from the cluttered coffee table and switching on the television. It only took a few minutes of browsing through Netflix before you finally located the movie you’d saved to your watch list a few weeks ago but had never gotten the chance to watch. 

Marked hopped up to flick off the lights as you pressed play, any excited or nervous murmurs coming to a halt as the opening credits rolled across the screen. Beside you, Taeyong tensed, squeezing his legs even tighter to his chest. You glanced at him from the corner of your eye, not missing the nervous way he gnawed at his lower lip even in the darkness. 

“Not good with horror movies?” You hummed, nudging his knee. He flinched in surprise, eyes shooting over to meet yours before he quickly diverted his attention back to the screen. 

“No, not– not really.” He admitted weakly, clearing his throat. 

A playful smirk twirled onto your lips and you subtly leaned into him, whispering near his ear, “you can hold my hand if you get scared.” 

A fierce blush consumed his cheeks, illuminated by the soft grey light of the television. “I– I’ll be okay.” He coughed when his voice cracked and you chuckled under your breath, opting to cut the poor boy some slack… for now. 

The movie progressed with the usual eerie start before transitioning into something lighter, though the low hum of anticipation-building music never ceased. Even if at some point it became rather repetitive, you thoroughly enjoyed a good horror movie. Most of the time, they failed to meet expectations and you left feeling rather disappointed that your stomach hadn’t leapt into your throat any point throughout the film. However, every once in a while, you were pleasantly surprised. 

Now, was not one of those times. 

Boredom quickly settled over you as the plot developed, revealing itself to be almost identical to a number of horror movies you’d watched in the past. You slumped back in your seat, a subtle scowl staining your lips. But then… inspiration. Devious, unquestionably self indulgent inspiration that risked putting a certain someone in a possibly very awkward (but also very delightful) position. 

The slow slide of your eyes from the television over to the boy seated at your left revealed that not everyone found the movie to be boring and repetitive. Taeyong was practically trembling. He had both of his hands over his face, wide, uncertain eyes peeking out timidly from between his index and middle fingers. 

You had to sink your teeth into your lip in order to subdue the large grin threatening to break across your face. 

Fuck, he’s too adorable. 

Unable to resist, you allowed a curious hand to wander towards his leg. With a brush so subtle it could’ve been mistaken for a breeze, you traced a finger over the seam of his pants. But, with his senses on high alert, it wasn’t a sensation he missed. He jolted violently, head swinging in your direction. There was fear in his eyes, but it quickly melted into relief else once he realized it was you and not some demon. 

Then his eyes drifted to where your finger lingered, hovering over his clothed thigh, and the relief transformed into something else entirely. Something hot and shameful and desperate, something he tried to hide behind frantically fluttering eyelids and quivering lips. But it was unmistakable. 

You lifted your brows, a silent question swirling in your gaze. He swallowed, breath coming out in quick, shallow huffs as the unnameable emotion thickened inside of him, then he nudged his leg shyly towards you. The air you didn’t realize you were holding in your lungs rushed out in one quick exhale, a subtle smirk curling onto your lips as excitement swirled in your gut. Taeyong sucked his lower lip into his mouth as your open palm landed boldly on his lower thigh, fingers pressing gently into the clothed muscle just above his knee. 

For a few minutes, it remained there, not moving any lower or any high, simply resting on his leg and he found himself relaxing beneath your touch. The heat of your hand was a welcome –comforting, even– distraction from the horror movie that had progressed to the point in the plot where the reckless characters put themselves directly into the line of danger instead of taking the intelligent path that would help them avoid it all together. You could feel the tension returning to Taeyong’s muscles as suspense building music poured from the surround sound speakers. 

In a two sided attempt to both comfort and tease, you began gently massaging his thigh. His breath audibly hitched, gaze straying from the screen once more in favor of watching the slow, deliberate motion of your fingers squeezing around his leg. That alone was enough to set his long neglected desire to flames. It burned within him, hot and dangerous, turning his face a dark, flattering crimson. 

It was too much. He’d never been touched like this before. You weren’t even close to his crotch and he could still feel the distinctive hardening beneath the zipper of his jeans which were growing tighter and tighter with every passing moment. At this rate, he’d make a mess of himself before the movie even reached its climax. 

The mere thought of coming untouched was enough to make his head feel dizzy, a mixture of humiliation and heady lust licking at his nerves. 

He couldn’t believe he was feeling this way, in a room full of his friends no less. If one of them were to look over, even through darkness, it would be impossible to miss your hand laid across his lap or the feverish blush coating his face, illuminated by the dull light of the tv. 

Then, your hand shifted higher. It was a minute movement, couldn’t have been more than an inch or two. But it had his pulse spiking in his veins nonetheless, blood rushing downward. You gripped gently at the inside of his slim thigh, thumb tracing slow, calculated circles into the rough material of his jeans. He trembled beneath the teasing ministrations, jaw clenched to fight back the urge to moan as your curious touch wandered upwards once more. 

“Is this alright?” 

The question came unexpectedly, a sudden rush of warm breath hitting the curve of his throat. He sucked his lips into his mouth, shivering faintly at the low, rough sound of your voice, just quiet enough that none of the other men in the room could make it out. 

He offered a sharp, jerky nod, desperately heaving in deep breath through his nose. The corner of your mouth curled. 

“God you're shaking. Are you that sensitive? Or do you just get off on getting felt up in front of all your friends? How naughty.” You chuckled tauntingly, words borderline malicious. 

“I– I don’t— I’m not—” he swallowed, shaking his head frantically in denial of your words, despite the flames they ignited inside of him. 

“I think you are.” You purred, tracing your index finger lightly over his prominent bulge, eliciting a strangled moan from his trembling lips. He was fortunate enough that at the very moment the sound escaped, some ditzy bimbo began screaming her lungs out in the movie. Still, he slapped a hand over his offending lips, looking around frantically to see if anyone had heard his slip up. Luckily enough, it seemed they hadn’t. 

This was payback, he realized abruptly, this was payback for walking in on you showering. 

But even if it was— 

It felt too damn good. 

His head tipped back, hand surging to cover his burning face and stifle his whimpers as you suddenly gripped firmly at his clothed length. A low, appreciative hum thrummed through your chest as you felt him twitch, delighting in just how responsive he was to your touch. His thighs squeezed together, hips shuddering upwards as you mapped him out. 

The urge to set your teeth upon his neck was almost overwhelming, but you resisted only because it might draw some attention from the room’s other, currently oblivious, occupants. You doubted Yukhei would miss it, even if he was desperately hiding his eyes behind those astoundingly massive hands. 

But shit was it tempting. 

His pretty porcelain skin would look so good painted in varying shades of pink and red. So sweet and pure… you wanted to taint him. 

He couldn’t stop moving now, squirming and quivering in place. He was unraveling right before your eyes, and you were devouring it. What a sight… 

Warmth stirred in your belly, and you rolled your palm down. He jolted violently, then in the next second he was up on his feet. It happened so quickly that you nearly fell over, just barely catching yourself from falling into the spot he previously occupied. Yukhei shrieked in shock, throwing himself directly into Jaehyun’s lap. 

“Fuck, Taeyong! You almost gave me a heart attack!” Haechan shrilled, clutching a pillow against his chest. Instead of responding, Taeyong jerked forward, the movement sharp and robotic, like his body wasn’t quite caught up to his brain. 

“What are you doing?” Doyoung asked, squinting at him through the darkness. “And why do you look so—” 

“B- B- Bathroom!” Taeyong squeaked out abruptly. You could only watch with wide eyes and gaping lips as he proceeded to run out of the living room like his ass was on fire. 

“Movie must’ve freaked him out.” Johnny muttered. 

“It’s not even that bad.” Yukhei scoffed in a voice too high pitched for his words to sound believable, grunting when Jaehyun shoved him off of his lap. Noisy banter was quick ensue. Noisy and distracting enough for you to make a quick and silent escape without catching any of the other boys’ attention. 

“Taeyong?” You called softly, worry churning in your gut that you overstepped or upset him. “Tae, I’m sorry if I—” you gasped, words cutting off in your throat as a hand found your wrist and you were quickly tugged around the corner and into the unlit hallway. 

The motion was so unexpected you ended up tripping over your own feet, having to slam a hand against the wall to steady yourself. But it was only when you felt a rush of quick, warm breath against your face that you realized the position you’d gotten yourself into. Taeyong was standing in front of you, face flushed a feverish shade of red, faint perspiration glistening on his skin, and he was standing with his spine flush against the wall, effectively caged in by your body. And he was looking at you. 

Really looking at you. 

With the kind of eyes that had something tightening deliciously in the pit of your stomach, chills of excitement ricocheting through your veins. 

“Tae?” His name was less than a breath on your lips, laced with an unspoken question. He sucked his lower lip into his mouth, fluttering gaze dancing across your face. 

“I almost…” he swallowed, shivering voice tapering off as he became overwhelmed by the proximity. He could smell your shampoo, a subtle, smoky-vanilla kind of scent that made his head feel dizzy. “I almost c- came.” 

The corner of your mouth swirled, both amused and charmed by the way he whispered the word, tone so innocent and shy that the filthy meaning behind it almost became misconstrued in your head. 

“Do you want to come, Taeyong?” You asked quietly, jutting a knee forward to press between his thighs. He gasped, trembling lips silently caressing the shape of your name as his hands shot forward, clutching desperately onto the sides of your shirt. A shy nod was all he could muster, the words feeling far too dirty to say aloud. But you weren’t satisfied. 

“Say it.” You murmured, nose brushing against his. His breath hitched at the command, warmth flushing through his veins beneath the staggering heat of your dark, hooded gaze. “If you want it, say it. If you don’t, tell me now.” 

“I want it!” He said quickly, only to flush and shrink in on himself, taken aback by his own outburst. Licking his lips, he repeated himself in a much softer voice, “I– I want it.” 

You let out a low hum, curving a gentle hand around his jaw. “Can I kiss you?” 

A shock ran through his body, his wide eyes snapping down to trace to soft lines of your mouth. “Yes.” He breathed, suddenly desperate for a taste of your lips. You didn’t deny him. 

The first brush of your lips against his is light, delicate… teasing. It made his knees tremble, fierce anticipation and wild desire running rampant through him. He opened up for you like a goddamn flower in bloom, melting sweetly when you applied even the slightest bit more pressure. His mouth was soft and warm, his kiss shy. And there was something ever so endearing about the way he clutched at your top like it was the only thing keeping him upright. 

You kept the pace deliberately slow, relishing in the soft moans that fluttered from his chest as you sucked his lower lip into your mouth, gently sinking your teeth into the sensitive flesh. He was wracked by a violent full body shiver when you licked over the seam of his lip. 

God he’s adorable. 

His strong reactions made you wonder if he’d ever been kissed like this before. Or, perhaps, this was a new experience entirely. 

“Taeyong.” He whimpered when you abruptly broke away from the kiss, but you ignored it. “Are you a virgin?” 

His eyes widened, a deep red flooding his cheeks. Then, he nodded, gaze dropping to the floor as the tips of his ears darkened. 

Wicked excitement curled in your gut, heat licking at your veins at the thought of being the first to corrupt such a sweet… innocent… 

“Have you ever been touched before?” 

He shook his head, chest pressing against your with every jagged inhale he drew into his lungs. 

You dipped a hand between your bodies, trailing teasingly down his stomach. “Would you like to be touched?” Your voice had dropped at least an octave, a low, rasping whisper that nearly made him keen. 

“Yes.” A devious grin settled across your lips at the quickness of his reply. Didn’t even need to think that one over, huh? 

You slid your hand over his crotch, feeling his hips buck uncontrollably when you squeezed. “Just looking at you,” you began, toying with his zipper, “I never would’ve guessed what a little slut you are.” 

“I- I’m not a slut.” He whimpered, digging his fingers into your waist. 

“Aren’t you, though?” You popped the button of his jeans. “I mean, take a good look at yourself, Yongie; letting yourself get felt up and teased by your best friend’s roommate while they’re just in the next room over. Seems pretty slutty to me.” 

Taeyong couldn’t help the soft moan that escaped his chest at the degrading word, his cock twitching within the confines of his boxers. Slipping a finger beneath the elastic, you tugged it away from his skin, letting out a playful coo when his weeping pink tip peeked out. The blush on his face intensified tenfold, both of his hands dropping down instinctively to cover himself. But you were faster, snatching his wrists and pinning them against the wall on either side of his head. 

“Don’t even think about it.” 

Shivering, he offered a compliant nod. 

“Good boy.” 

He barely had time to form a reaction to the praise before he felt you around him, stroking and caressing. The responding moan that burst from his lips was loud— too loud. You were quick to cover his gaping mouth, successfully muffling the series of succeeding gasps and whimpers. 

“Careful, sweetheart,” you clicked your tongue, watching the way his eyes fluttered and rolled as you tightened your grip around his cock, “you wouldn’t want your hyungs to find out what a little slut you’re being, now would you? Mark was so kind, inviting you into his home… How do you think he’d feel if he were to see you taking advantage of his hospitality, getting your pretty little cock played with by his roommate? How shameless...” 

Taeyong whimpered, and you felt the gentle press of his lips against your palm, followed by a meek flick of his tongue. He was looking at you now, really looking at you, with the kind of pathetic, wanting eyes that never failed to make your skin burn in excitement. You wondered if you could make him cry, overwhelm him with pleasure to the point where he couldn’t keep his emotions at bay. The desire to ruin him was almost unbearable. 

Swirling your thumb over his tip, you slotted a leg between his, pressing up against him from underneath. He nearly keened at the pressure, hips rolling greedily over your thigh, simultaneously pumping his cock into your closed fist. Heaven, this must be heaven. Honestly, you hadn’t expected him to succumb to his desires so readily, with such… enthusiasm. But this Taeyong surprised you at every turn. You’d thought he’d be shy, reserved, hesitant to give in, but here he was, riding your thigh and fucking your hand like his life depended on it, his muffled moans pulsing beneath your palm. 

It’d be a flat out lie to say you weren’t beyond turned on. 

There was a slick warmth building between your thighs, soaking into the fabric of your underwear, and tight knots in your stomach, threatening to burst at any given moment. The knowledge that less than thirty feet away, your roommate and all his friends were gathered and one stray moan from the crumbling man before you could give away all the filthy things you were doing to him stroked the lustful flames blazing through your blood. One glimpse into those hooded, glassy brown eyes told you he was suffering from a similar burn. 

“Turn around.” You demanded, somewhat breathless as you tore your hands off of him. A low whimper escaped past trembling lips at the loss of stimulation, a shiver rippling down his spine as his hard, abandoned cock swung through empty air. Regardless, he was quick to comply, spinning himself around and pressing his palms flat against the wall. You hummed a praise, pleased with his eager compliance, rewarding him with your touch. He gasped, forced to sink his teeth into his lip to stifle his whimpers as your hands slipped over his body: one returning to stroke his dick while the other pushed beneath the material of his top, venturing up to his chest where your fingers set to toying with his sensitive nipples. 

“(y/n)—” he moaned your name desperately, rocking his body back against yours as overwhelming pleasure pulsed through his veins. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” you chuckled darkly, splaying a steadying palm across his hips as they began grinding back into yours, “you sound like you're about to burst.” 

He moaned, shuddering when you caressed his sensitive tip, and an idea struck you. 

“Can you do something for me, Tae?” You asked, voice a low, rasping against the shell of his ear. “Can you suck?” 

Any short lived confusion dissipated from his mind when he felt your fingers nudging at the soft flesh of his lips. A deep blush flooded into his cheeks, but his mouth opened nonetheless, shyly taking your digits inside. 

“There you go…” you purred, feeling his tongue lick delicately at the pads of your middle and ring finger. He sucked, and you lowered your head to press slow, encouraging kisses laced with whispered praises to the juncture of his throat. You felt the soft vibrations of his muffled moans quivering through your knuckles and against your lips. He was shaking, the stimulation to his cock causing violent tremors to wrack his body. He wasn’t far off from release, you could tell as much by the way he was twitching and the slow increase in volume of his sounds. 

But you weren’t finished yet. 

Not by a long shot. 

You pulled your fingers from his mouth, the suction of his lips giving with a lewd, wet pop. A filthy sound coming from such innocent lips. 

Leaning forward, you nipped gently at the shell of his red tinted ear, hand releasing his dick in favor of venturing beneath the hem of his pants. You heard his breath hitched and offered quietly, “Tell me if you want me to stop.” 

Taeyong nodded in understanding, but offered no resistance as you pushed the thick denim down over the soft curve of his ass. His shoulders jumped, a gasp shooting from his lips when you slid a saliva soaked finger between his cheeks, coming to the abrupt realization of what your intentions were. 

“O– oh—” 

“Is this alright?” 

He swallowed, glancing back at you from over his shoulder. “I– I’ve never…” 

You soothed a hand down the front of his thigh, “it’s okay if you don’t want to.” 

There was no judgement in your tone, rather a gentleness to the reassurance that put his buzzing nerves at ease. “That’s not it,” he shook his head, gnawing at the corner of his lip as a soft pink crept across his cheeks, “j– just…” 

“Just?” 

Taeyong drew in a deep, trembling breath. Your furrowed brows shot to your hairline, heat twisting in your gut as he suddenly bent himself over, sticking his ass out, practically fucking presenting himself to you. “B- be gentle…” he whispered shyly, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. 

Steam would surely start coming out of your nose if your temperature rose any further. This is fucking ridiculous. How was it possible for a man to be so cute yet so sexy all at once? This couldn’t be good for your health… 

Smirking deviously, you settled a palm between his shoulder blades, pressing down ever so slightly and watching as he delicately arched his spine. “I’m always gentle.” 

A hiccuping moan rushed from his chest at the first careful press of your finger, his brows furrowing deeply as his muscles tightened in response to the foreign stretch. 

“Relax, sweetheart.” You reminded lightly, settling soothing kisses across his shoulder. He drew in a series of deep breaths, allowing himself to adjust to the sensation of having something inside of him while melting into the tender caress of your cool lips across his feverish skin. You felt the slow dissipation of tension, felt the way he melted beneath you. “There you go…” you cooed, easing into him until your knuckle before allowing him a few moments to adjust. 

He was panting, forehead thudding softly against the wall as his hips trembled, a strange but not unpleasant feeling sparking to life inside of him. 

“Oh…” it was a barely audible sound, soft and breathless of shuddering lips. But you didn’t miss it, didn’t miss the way his shoulders drooped, his walls tight relaxing ever so faintly around the intruding digit. The corner of your mouth curled upwards in a salacious smirk, and you curled your finger experimentally. 

His reaction was instantaneous, a moan of surprise entwined with unexpected pleasure rushing from his flush throat. He glanced back at you from over his shoulder, eyes wide and trembling, hazy with an emotion you immediately recognized as pure, unfiltered lust. Your grin widened, almost triumphant as you whispered, “feel that?” 

He nodded rapidly, a gasp of breath wracking his chest. “Yes,” his hands were curling into fists where they were braced against the plaster wall. 

“Wanna feel it again?” 

The sound he let out was a combination of several things, keening and desperate for the sensation he’d never before experienced. “Please. Please.” 

It was impossible to say anything but yes when he begged like that. 

You rewarded him by stretching him out around a second finger, his knees nearly giving out when you thrust them in as deep as they would go. He was an absolute mess, forced to slap a quivering hand over his gaping mouth when his teeth proved insufficient at keeping his sounds in. You were enjoying yourself perhaps a little too much, enjoying watching him slowly crumble, enjoying watching his innocence shatter into tiny irreparable pieces on the floor beside glistening drops of precum. He was just too irresistible… 

“You’re about to come, aren’t you?” He was nodding before you even finished the question, muffled moans and sobs escaping through his fingers as he fucked himself back onto yours. You curve a hand around the shape of his jaw, tugging his head back at an angle that surely causes a strain in his neck, and slot your lips into his. Shoving your tongue down his throat proves a far more efficient means of keeping him quiet. 

But when you curled your fingers inside of him, subsequently stroking that sensitive bundle of nerves, even your mouth wasn’t enough to stifle the shriek of pleasure that burst from his throat. You were hoping the screams you heard emulating from the other room were enough to drown it out. 

“Keep your voice down.” You all but snarled, curling a hand around his throat. 

“I- I can’t— oh god, it feels so g- good.” He babbled, voice strained from the sheer effort of trying to keep himself from crying out in bliss. “I’m g- gonna come— I’m gonna c- come—” the sound of him choking on his words, gasping for breath around the added resistance of your restricting hold was even hotter than you imagined it would be. 

“Gone on, sweetheart. Let me see you make a mess of yourself.” You kissed the shell of his ear, deciding then to have mercy and offer his pathetic, weeping cock a helping hand. He was finished the moment your fingers grazed his tip, struck with an orgasm so powerful it had his knees buckling beneath the weight of his quivering body. 

His jaw when slack, unleashing every pent up sound he’d managed to keep bottled up thus far. They came rushing out of him too quickly to stop, not that you made much of an effort. You were enjoying the way he was moaning your name like it was his saving grace far too much to care whether or not the other boys were hearing. In fact, the thought of them hearing their sweet, innocent Taeyong whimpering like a bitch in heat, moaning your name, gave you an unexpected rush of delight. 

You didn’t stop fucking your fingers into his tight little hole until you were certain you’d milked him for all he was worth, until he was reduced to little more than a trembling, whimpering mess against your chest, barely able to keep himself upright. 

“Oh my g- god.” He murmured shakily, head falling back to rest on your shoulder. 

A low chuckle slid from your lips as you gently released his spent cock, simultaneously pulling out of him. He winced faintly, whining weakly at the unpleasant emptiness that ensued. 

“That felt pretty good didn’t it?” You teased. 

He bit his lip, humming airily as he melted into your hold. 

“You’re a good boy, aren’t you, Taeyong?” Your words danced over the curve of his throat, flooding his senses with the fluttering implication. Blushing, he nodded, a shy bob of his head that caused the sweat soaked fringes of his bangs to fall over his eyes, clinging delicately to his pretty eyelashes. “Words?” 

“I—” he swallowed, gaze flitting as his face reddened further, “I’m a g- good boy.” 

You mouth curled deviously. Holding your come covered hand up to his panting mouth, you whispered against the shell of his ear, “good boys clean up their mess.” 

His breath hitched, wide eyes jumping over to meet yours. You held his gaze boldly, cocking an expectant brow. Then, ever so lightly, his tongue dipped out from between red bitten lips, kitten licking his come from your fingertips. You could’ve come right then and there, watching him shyly lap his own release from your hand. Honestly you would’ve been happy to stay like that all night, his tongue tracing the lines of your palm, caressing your knuckles… 

But then the doorbell rang, and someone cleared their throat in the other room. 

“Uh… foods here.” 

Taeyong leapt away from you with a gasp, flushing deeply as his hands flew to tuck himself back into his jeans. 

“D- do you think they—” his voice cracked and he coughed as crimson crept up his neck. 

You smirked, not in the least bit ashamed. 

“Oh, definitely.”

A/N; well i dropped off the face of the earth, sorry about that loves. but i think you’ll be happy to know that i have a number of wip sitting in drafts, should i tease the banners? 

[bakugosbratx]

Hi hi! Congratulations!! 🎊

Could I please request a fic with Eren or Levi and could they have some yandere tendencies? Like they’re too protective, gets jealous easily, would absolutely fuck you until you’re screaming so that the guy who’s been checking you out heard?

NSFW 18+ Let them hear you — Yandere Eren Jeager x Reader

Warning: 18+ Content. Sexual content, bdsm, degrading, unprotected sex, oral, non-con, abuse, possessive, toxic relationship, gaslighting, Jean abuse, punishment, violence, etc.

Words: 1.9k

Check out my other works here

A/N: Hey love. Thank you so much for the request! I hope it meets what you are looking for. I am only on the third season so I apologize in advance for anything that seems uncanny. Enjoy.

P.S. I am still on break but I am trying to complete some request that have been sitting in my drafts. I miss y’all and will be back before y’all know it. Thank you for all the love and sweet messages.

“Eren, what are you—“

“Shut the hell up, Y/N.” Eren seethed through gritted teeth as he pulls you along. The death grip on your poor arm is making you cry out in pain. This only infuriated him more.

You did nothing wrong. You were eating your lunch with Mikasa when Jean strolled on over. It is not a secret that Jean likes you. Everyone knows that Jean likes anyone with a pulse. You have told the man multiple times that you are not interested — along with Eren — and you have a boyfriend, but it does not stop the man from trying. Especially when Eren is busy.

“Hello Y/N.” Jean greeted with a flirty smile. Your eyes couldn’t help but roll.

“Hello Jean.” You sigh as he sat across you two.

“What’s with the sad face, pretty thing? Eren got you down?” Jean chuckled before taking a bite of his sandwich.

You scoffed. “Me and Eren are doing just fine, thank you very much.”

“Well, your face says otherwise. If you ask me, I’d say you can do better than that douchebag anyways—“ Jean’s spill got interrupted with a hard punch to the side of the head then another one to the nose. Gasp filled the room as eyes landed on who did this to the man. No one was surprised to see it was Eren himself.

Eren grabs Jean by the collar of his shirt, lifting him up to meet his height. Eren’s natural blue eyes were filled with rage. “You son of a bitch. Why the fuck are you flirting with my girl, Jean? She told you more than once she’s not interested.”

Jean manages to release himself from Eren’s grip, stumbling to keep his balance. This is not the first time these two have had altercations with one another.

“Ha, you don’t see the way she looks at me. Besides,” he pauses to wipe the blood leaking from his nose, “she was totally flirting with me.”

“Bastard!” Eren bellows as he goes to attack again, but the higher ups stop him along with you and Mikasa.

“Eren, stop.” Mikasa and you demand, hanging onto his arms.

“Let go of me! I’m going to make that son of a bitch pay.”

“That’s enough, Jaeger.” Captain Levi scolds. Eren snaps out of his rage to meet the small man’s eyes. “In my office. Now.”

Though Eren is still angry, he still knows when to show respect. Especially when it comes to the higher ups. Everyone in the room knew this.

“Yes, sir.” Eren sighs, still breathing heavy.

“Eren,” You began with sorrow filled irises. Though this is in no way shape or form your fault, you cannot help but feel the guilt within your bones. If only you would have done more than maybe Eren would not be in this situation.

Eren just glared down at your small frame compared to his, clearly not happy with you. It was a look you know all too well and you know you will be in for it later. Your heart pounded against your ribs at the thought.

“We’ll talk later.” Eren hissed before following Captain Levi to his office.

Jean did not mess with you for the rest of the afternoon. Eren was sent to clean up the horse stables while the rest of the team did their chores. Eren made sure to have his eyes on you anytime you were in close proximity. His glare was one you always refused to meet with your own two eyes. It made you feel small. Just like how Eren wanted.

Your anxiety has been through the roof all day. No one can blame you, though. Eren is a loose cannon on a good day. So, your super barely being touched was noticed, but not discussed amongst your peers.

Strong hands touched your shoulders. You jumped out of reflex. Looking up, you see your boyfriend looking down at you.

“Eren!” You exclaimed with joy and fear. He noticed both emotions.

“Follow me.” Eren orders, patting your shoulder more rough than he should have. You did not even have time to comply as his hand snakes around your bicep and pulls you along.

“Eren, you’re hurting me.” You whine as he pulls you towards the closest bedroom available.

“Eren, what are you—“

“Shut the hell up, Y/N.” Eren seethed through gritted teeth as he pulls you along. The death grip on your poor arm is making you cry out in pain. This only infuriated him more.

Slamming the door open, he ushers you along inside and swiftly closed the door behind him. Your hand wraps around your now warm, pulsating arm. You can feel the heat from Eren’s glare down onto you. You start to tremble.

“Eren, I—“

“I said shut the hell up, Y/N.” Eren growls. He has taught you more than once to respect his orders, but you just cannot seem to listen. You will pay for that sooner than later.

Eren leans against the door, arms crossed as he heavily sighs. “What were you doing with Jean earlier today?” He finally asked. You turned to face him.

“N-Nothing!” You stammered. You know this made you sound guilty, but you are actually innocent. Just Eren knows how to intimidate you and when you’re in this position, your nerves take over.

Eren scornfully chuckled. “Please, do you really think I’m that dumb, Y/N?”

“I’m telling the truth, Eren! You know I don’t like Jean.” You spat. Your blood is boiling at this point. This accusation has been thrown at you more than once in your relationship and quite honestly, it’s getting tiring.

“Watch it.” Eren warned. You know you are not supposed to raise your voice towards him. He has corrected that behavior more than once and will do it again if necessary.

“Why was he sitting with you at lunch?” Eren interrogates after he notices you lose some confidence to yell at him.

You let out a deep sigh. “He just showed up. You know how Jean is.”

“And you didn’t stop him?”

“What was I supposed to do?” You questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Tell him to fuck off!” Eren barks.

“And I did!” You argued back.

A small shriek escapes your lips as Eren charges towards you, wrapping his hand around your throat, and pushing you down onto the nearest bunk bed. You struggled to untangle his fingers as they squeeze your throat tightly.

“What did I say about talking back, slut?” Eren growls.

“I-I’m s-sorry, E-Eren.” You managed to get out as you lose circulation to your lungs.

“Oh, you will be. I’m going to make sure this filthy little mouth of yours will not be able to talk for weeks.”

Eren finally let’s go of your throat. You immediately cough. There is not enough oxygen in the room to get to your lungs fast enough it seems. Eren would argue and say you deserve it.

You hear a belt unbuckle along with his pants unzipping. His pants hang low on his hips as he watches you collect air. By the way his boxers are fitting quite snug, you know what is coming.

“On your knees.” Eren demands, pointing towards the creaky wooden floor below. You shook your head no, your eyes pleading. Eren did not respond to that well as he grabbed a hand full of hair and forced you to the ground.

“Do you ever fucking listen? I said on your damn knees.” Eren growls. You did not even have a chance to explain that you are not in the mood because Eren’s length is now being stuffed down your throat. You choked on Eren’s cock as every inch was entering your mouth.

Your nails clawed at Eren’s clothed abdomen. His hand never let up on your hair as he thrust in-and-out of you. You are choking, coughing for air, but Eren refused to show any ounce of mercy. In fact, he found it quite amusing. You should know better than to disrespect your boyfriend.

“Where is all that back talk now, princess? Don’t have shit to say with my cock down your disrespectful ass throat, do ya?” Eren mocks as takes another rapid thrust down your windpipe. Drool covered your chin and Eren’s dick. You can feel his girth stretch out your throat and he loves it. He loves seeing you struggle.

Pre-cum started to leak from his erected member. You are mentally thanking your maker. You needed a break and a gasp for air, but those prayers were answered quicker than expected. Eren pulls out his cock from your sore mouth. You let out pitiful coughs as he stroked himself to the sight of you.

“Strip then get in doggy.” He demands. Not wanting to make this worse for yourself, you do as your told. You are not even sure whose room this is. You just hope they do not walk into see the sinful things you and Eren are doing.

Each article of clothing fall to the floor and you get in the position Eren wants you in. All of your delicate tight holes are displayed for his taking. He walks over and spreads your ass out some more to get a better view. You yelp when a hard slap hits your ass.

Without warning, he brings you closer to him by latching his hands onto your hips and his cock slips into your tight cunt. Your walls do their best to expand to his girth, but no amount of sex with Eren can get you prepared for that. Your pussy takes in inch-by-inch. His stamina and merciless rhythm is forcing you to be accepting of his cock. Your knees shake under the pressure and your hands tightly grip onto the covers below.

A hard slap to your ass exploits the moan you have his behind your lips. “I kept your throat intact for a reason. Use it.” Eren scolds before hitting your ass again. You whimper.

“Eren.” You mewl.

“Yeah, who is making you feel this good?” He teases as he continues his venomous thrust.

“You do.” You sob. Your pussy is beginning to become accustomed to Eren’s erection and he is hitting all the right spots. He always does.

“Can Jean make you feel this good?” He groans, his knees slowly buckling beneath him.

“Never.” You wail. Your weeping cunt confirmed this as well.

“Damn,” he pants, “straight.”

Cum leaked from Eren’s cock deep into your cunt. You let out little moans as you became stuffed with Eren’s seed. Though you did not like he was not using protection, you have no say in the matter. This is for his pleasure and your punishment. You just have to take it like the good little submissive girl he taught you to be.

You milked every single drop of Eren before you were granted permission to put on clothes. Your hands intertwined as he lead you to the door. There stood Jean, Armin, and Conny. They all looked horrified as well as you. Eren’s smug smirk never left his features.

“What the hell are you doing in my room, Eren?” Jean exclaims in furry.

“Handling business,” he wraps his arm around Jean’s shoulder and let’s go of your hand to pat his chest, “By the way, thanks for letting me fuck my girlfriend on your bed.”

©bakugosbratx

All Rights Reserved

[edenmemes]

misc poetry sentence starters

❝  one gets so used to one’s own horrors, one forgets how they must seem to other people.  ❞ ❝  you remind me what love lives in this skin.  ❞ ❝  you are the most phantom-like of all; you are a mere dream.  ❞ ❝  i’m not telling you a story so much as a shipwreck—the places floating, finally legible.  ❞ ❝  the world was made so we can find each other in it.  ❞ ❝  the night isn’t dark; the world is dark. stay with me a little longer.  ❞ ❝  i want you desperately. i want your strength and your softness, your hands, all of you.  ❞ ❝  is that too much to expect? that i would name the stars for you?  ❞ ❝  against your cheek my hand is warm and full of tenderness.  ❞ ❝  the world grows green again when you smile.  ❞ ❝  your share of pains would fill a sea.  ❞ ❝  i’m so stuck on the ‘was’ of people.  ❞ ❝  what i love in you is your power of loving, a bit wild, a bit primitive, but absolute.  ❞ ❝  i like figuring you out. you are so human and puzzling.  ❞ ❝  the unwillingness to try is worse than any failure.  ❞ ❝  you wanted happiness. i can’t blame you for that.  ❞ ❝  i did violence to my own heart.  ❞ ❝  i don’t know how to stay tender with this much blood in my mouth.  ❞ ❝  like a magpie, i am a scavenger of shiny things: fairy tales and dead languages.  ❞ ❝  and here you come with a shield for a heart and a sword for a tongue.  ❞ ❝  you kiss the back of my legs and i want to cry.    only the sun has come this close, only the sun.  ❞ ❝  sometimes being offered tenderness feels like the very proof you’ve been ruined.  ❞ ❝  when will it cease, this monstrous rage of yours?  ❞ ❝  i will plant my hands in the garden. i will grow, i know, i know.  ❞ ❝  i had it all and i want it back again.  ❞ ❝  i don’t care about anyone, and the feeling is quite obviously mutual.  ❞ ❝  we are two reflections that cross swords with each other.  ❞ ❝  as for me, i am a watercolour. i wash off.  ❞ ❝  do you dare send me away as though you were were waiting for something better?  ❞ ❝  my dear, you are in danger of being burned by your own flame.  ❞ ❝  i am three oceans away from my soul.  ❞ ❝  you, occasionally, glimmer with a light i’ve never seen before. it frightens me.  ❞ ❝  i went to sleep last night so i could see you.  ❞ ❝  even the eyes of gods must adjust to light. even gods have gods.  ❞ ❝  how much can you change and get away with it, before you turn into someone else, before it’s some kind of murder?  ❞ ❝  it does me no good to be good to me now.  ❞ ❝  i may look alright, but if you were to look more closely you wouldn’t find a single healthy bit in me.  ❞ ❝  i must clothe myself in other worlds.  ❞ ❝  suffering is the privilege of those who feel.  ❞ ❝  sorry about the blood in your mouth. i wish it was mine.  ❞ ❝  the vigor, the fire, that enables you to love and create. when you lose that, you’ve lost everything.  ❞ ❝  i can be bold, because i have you with me always.  ❞ ❝  you are shaking fists and trembling teeth. i know: you did not mean to be cruel. that does not mean you were kind.  ❞ ❝  not that i want to be a god or a hero, just to change into a tree,  grow for ages, not hurt anyone.  ❞ ❝  i laughed today. for a second i was unhaunted.  ❞ ❝  you are sunlight through a window, which i stand in, warmed.  ❞ ❝  there’s something electric in your blood.  ❞ ❝  you say you are broken,   but broken mirrors like you create the most beautiful patterns of light.  ❞ ❝  time doesn’t obey our commands.  ❞ ❝  i love you quite passionately, and with a touch of tragedy.  ❞ ❝  to feel anything deranges you. to be seen feeling anything strips you naked.  ❞ ❝  i love you --- like a storm bursts overhead --- i must confess it; all the more fiercely because you burn and bite.  ❞ ❝  and i have seen rivers, not unlike you, that failed to find their way back.  ❞ ❝  i am less a god now that you’ve touched me.  ❞ ❝  your words are gentle; but my blood runs cold to think what plots you may be nursing deep within your heart.  ❞ ❝  you said i killed you --- haunt me then.  ❞ ❝  your soul is frail and solemn, loyal and spring-like.  ❞ ❝  you look like you’ve eaten the sun, like you drank so much sunlight you’re drowning in it.  ❞ ❝  strangeness is a necessary ingredient in beauty.  ❞ ❝  you will hear thunder and remember me.  ❞ ❝  ever think it’s possible for us to be happy?  ❞ ❝  and i would wonder across all the deserts of this world, even after death, to search for you.  ❞ ❝  since we’re bound to be something, why not together?  ❞ ❝  i am ashes were once i was fire.  ❞ ❝  this mouth will destroy you the moment you mistake it for something soft, for something that is yours.  ❞ ❝  it’s no easy thing to bear, the weight of sweetness.  ❞ ❝  kill the light! i’d rather wallow in the dark.  ❞ ❝  i have thought of you often since the darkness.  ❞ ❝  with your presence the sun becomes irrelevant.  ❞ ❝  there is no god left in this skin. there’s just the ash. just the ash.  ❞ ❝  open your eyes, look more sharply, see me as i am.  ❞ ❝  what the hell is tragedy? i am.  ❞ ❝  i’ve got a lot of feeling for you. you’re kind.  ❞ ❝  how beautiful it is, how beautiful, that glow before the stars break.  ❞ ❝  so much to do today: kill memory, kill pain, turn heart into a stone, and yet prepare to live again.  ❞ ❝  i am myself. that is not enough.  ❞ ❝  i may be mad, god-seized, but i will stand outside my madness.  ❞ ❝  my power, which to me is still a curse ---  ❞ ❝  ocean sea with its caressing swell; it has so often cooled my heart.  ❞ ❝  do you bathe in perfume, and dry yourself in light?  ❞ ❝  i like you; your eyes are full of language.  ❞ ❝  let me tell you what i do know.    i am more than one thing and not all of those things are good.  ❞ ❝  you are the cause and the cure --- both.  ❞ ❝  i have kisses for the back of your neck.  ❞ ❝  your beautiful glance is unbearably cruel.  ❞ ❝  we might meet again, someday between dreams at dawn.  ❞ ❝  suffering is a terrible fire; it either purifies or destroys.  ❞ ❝  lately it hurts more to imagine you are a stranger rather than a destroyer.  ❞ ❝  and i say to myself: a moon will rise from my darkness.  ❞ ❝  since you walked out on me, i’m getting lovelier by the hour. i glow like a corpse in the dark.  ❞ ❝  i will not whine. i will obey and be forever still.  ❞ ❝  you move like the moon.  ❞ ❝  my eyes ache with the weight of unshed tears.  ❞ ❝  in your eyes, the fires of twilight.  ❞ ❝  do not haunt my soul; i have done well forgetting you.  ❞ ❝  i am no one. i cannot love. it’s in my blood.  ❞ ❝  you’re wearing your armor to protect your heart. who can blame you? it only makes sense in a world like this one.  ❞ ❝  you are not real. you are a dream of a dream.  ❞ ❝  there are so many things i’m not allowed to tell you.  ❞ ❝  i am indeed a shameless, evil-minded and abominable creature.  ❞ ❝  come this evening --- i am eager for stars.  ❞ ❝  i am on fire with that soft sound you make, in uttering my name.  ❞ ❝  i want you mostly in the morning when my soul is weak from dreaming.  ❞ ❝  to me you are the desert and the sea; everything secretive.  ❞ ❝  i thought i was wounded to the core but i was only bruised.  ❞ ❝  it is a dead heart. it is inside of me. it is a stranger.  ❞ ❝  i live --- but i’m mutilated.  ❞ ❝  if there is a light then i am going to swallow it.    if there is a god then i’m going to make him cry.  ❞ ❝  i am condemned to be a saint or a monster: unable to be the one, unwilling to be the other.  ❞ ❝  you will open your wounds and make them a garden.  ❞ ❝  i come home --- and i feel like a ghost returning its haunt.  ❞ ❝  i planted roses, but without you they were thorns.  ❞ ❝  everything inside me is in revolt.  ❞ ❝  how this darkness soaks me through and through.  ❞ ❝  give me my robe, put on my crown; i have immortal longings in me.  ❞ ❝  say something dangerous like i love you.  ❞ ❝  listen, are you breathing just a little, and calling it a life?  ❞ ❝  in times of crisis, we must decide again and again whom we love.  ❞ ❝  breathe the scent of little, earthly things. let the twilight touch you.  ❞ ❝  my heart is just like the ocean, has storm and calm and tides.  ❞ ❝  you became for me a sacred being, not to be touched save in adoring thoughts.  ❞ ❝  gods are stubborn. so am i.  ❞ ❝  is it better to out-monster the monster or to be quietly devoured?  ❞ ❝  there’s something soft in me. i killed it and it’s rotting.  ❞ ❝  beware. beware. there is a tenderness.  ❞ ❝  half gods are worshipped in wine and flowers. real gods require blood.  ❞ ❝  i’m alive. like a wound, a flower in the flesh, the path of aching blood is open within me.  ❞ ❝  you dangle on the leash of your own longing; your need grows teeth.  ❞ ❝  i have it in me...to scare myself with my own desert places.  ❞ ❝  my mouth still houses century-old magic.     in my ears i hear a ringing and singing and no god.  ❞ ❝  keep talking. i’ll keep walking toward the sound of your voice.  ❞ ❝  i’m full of poetry now. rot and poetry. rotten poetry.  ❞ ❝  this skin is sick with loneliness.  ❞ ❝  memories are sharp. they bite. i have spent most of my life trying to grow a thicker skin just to make sure i would not bleed out whenever i felt those teeth scrape up against me.  ❞ ❝  i wonder if i will ever find a language to speak of the things that haunt me the most.  ❞ ❝  after fury, what do you do with the remains?  ❞ ❝  come on, dance with me. the earth is spinning. we can’t just stand on it.  ❞ ❝  let’s admit, without apology, what we do together.  ❞ ❝  try to find the right place for yourself. if you can’t find it, at least dream of it.  ❞ ❝  it takes grace to remain kind in cruel situations.  ❞ ❝  i am too full of life to be half-loved.  ❞ ❝  today you want nothing because wanting comes too close to feeling.  ❞ ❝  there’s nothing more terrible, more alluring, more mysterious than love.  ❞ ❝  heavenly wine and roses seem to whisper to me when you smile.  ❞ ❝  my soul is devoutly and wholly under your spell.  ❞ ❝  will you see the human in my being?  ❞ ❝  if i had a flower for every time i thought of you…i could walk through my garden forever.  ❞ ❝  part broken part whole, you begin again.  ❞ ❝  i don’t know if love’s a feeling. sometimes i think it’s a matter of seeing. seeing you.  ❞ ❝  i wonder which will get you killed faster, your loyalty or your stubbornness?  ❞ ❝  whether you come as a lover or an exeutioner, i am ready to receive you.  ❞ ❝  i think i understand your longing. it looks so much like mine.  ❞ ❝  i’ve had so many knives stuck into me. when they hand me a flower, i can’t quite make out what it is.  ❞ ❝  i like the sea: we understand one another. it is always yearning, sighing for something it cannot have; so am i.  ❞ ❝  do i not live? badly, i know, but i live.  ❞ ❝  something of you stuck with me. a splinter.  ❞ ❝  i clung to your hands so that something human might exist in the chaos.  ❞ ❝  sometimes i shut my eyes, and shut my heart towards you, and try hard to forget you because you grieve me so, but you’ll never go away. oh you never will.  ❞ ❝  my golden love, if only you knew, what precious honey you are for me.  ❞ ❝  i had an old wound once, but it is healing.  ❞ ❝  always this in-betweenness, this almost, this it might be that...  ❞ ❝  when i close my eyes, i see you. when i open my eyes i want to see you.  ❞ ❝  dark as it is --- you see, that little flickering, is the light of my soul.  ❞ ❝  am i a monster or is this what it means to be a person?  ❞ ❝  i am talking about evil. it blooms. it eats. it grins.  ❞ ❝  sapphires are those eyes of yours, ravishingly sweet.  ❞

[aghostpost]

The Hard-J (Victor Creed x Reader)

A/N: I know I said it would be ready by the weekend but... it wasn’t! Excuses only work for those that make them, so I won’t bother lmao~ This one is for @queengiuliettafirstlady and everyone else that loves a little Victor Creed intensity. ♥

“Can we not do this today, please?”

“What the hell was that about?” He slammed the door after him as I went to my kitchen to put groceries away. 

“He saw me walking back from the store, that’s it.”

“That’s it, huh? What did I say about hangin’ out with him?”

“We weren’t hanging out! I told you, he saw me walking and he was helping me carry a few things. That. Is it.”

“You see how he talks to me? How he’s always talked to me-“

“-I see two brothers who, for whatever reason, can’t seem to hack it.”

“We aren’t brothers.”

I rolled my eyes, shoving my peanut butter and fudge swirl ice cream into the freezer. “Brothers in arms.”

“Because there’s no damn respect! Always lookin’ down at me like he’s some kinda fuckin’ superior.”

“Vic…”

“I don’t want you around him. You hear me?”

I let out an exasperated sigh as I rolled my eyes. “It’s too hot to argue about this shit.”

“You’re the one arguing instead of just agreeing, Y/N.”

“Your relationship with Logan is just that: yours. I have no problem with the guy.”

“If I see you two together again-“

“- Do not end that sentence with a threat, Victor-“

“- I’ll do you one better and end it with a guaran-fucking-tee!”

“We live in the same city, I’m bound to run into him sometimes!”

“Y/N look at me… Hey!” He shouted, making me jump out of my skin as I gave him my undivided attention. Clearly he was serious, which he tended to be. But this time, more serious than normal.

He was always so very dead serious whenever we talked about Logan.

“I don’t care if you’re next door neighbors with him. If I see you two with each other again, it will not end well.”

“For him? Or for me?”

“Both o’ you.”

I stared him down and watched him do the same, his face cold hard steel, not even a muscle flexing as he spoke to me. “What the hell happened between you two, anyway?” I asked. “What did he do that’s so damn bad you’re forbidding me to even say hi? He kill your cat or somethin’?”

He smirked and let out a huff of a chuckle, his left fang peeking from behind his lips. “You think I’m kiddin’?”

I rolled my eyes and pushed him away from me to continue putting the food away. “Yeah, sure. Whatever. I’ll stay away from him, Victor. Whatever the hell makes-” I couldn’t finish my sentence before I heard the loud crash of glass breaking. I whipped around and saw a wet puddle dripping on my wall, the floor beneath it decorated with broken glass and what was a very nice bouquet of assorted flowers. “Are you shitting me?!”

“Oh, I got your attention now?”

“You had it! You’re throwing a temper tantrum, breaking my shit, all because you’re jealous of someone I’m not even interested in?”

“Jealous?” he questioned as he slowly stalked towards me, like a predator carefully eyeing its prey. I was no stranger to Victor's temper; under the right circumstances, he could go from settled to up in flames with the snap of a finger. Maybe it’s because he was never really at ease, always ready to pounce at any moment’s notice if necessary. Yeah, I know he has little patience and is kinda trigger happy to get into a fight, his own source of entertainment. But that was with other people, strangers. With me, he exercised a lot more restraint. We’d have arguments, he’d yell, maybe hurt a wall and then storm off.

But whenever Logan was involved, it was a different story...

“You need to relax,” I warned as I slowly backed away from him, ready to defend myself if necessary, even if I knew it was a losing battle. 

“Did you just say I was jealous of him?”

“Are you?”

“What reason do I have to be jealous?”

“You tell me. What is it, Vic? You think I’m gonna run off with him into the sunset? You come over here one day to see me, all my shit is packed up and I leave a note behind? I doubt he’d throw my shit around like you just did.”

“I bought you those damn flowers,” he growled.

“You gonna buy the replacements too?” I asked playfully, trying to diffuse the tension but failing. It was painfully obvious, literally, he wasn’t in the mood to play when I felt his fist grip me like a boa constrictor. He forced my head against the kitchen cabinet behind me and got close to my face. If he moved any closer he’d be able to taste the chive cream cheese bagel I had on the way over here. 

“Now that all depends…”

“Victor, let go of me. Now.”

“What’s the matter, hm? I thought you liked it rough?” he spoke with a tone of warning before a lecherous grin spread across his face. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t release a flutter deep in my belly, my incessant desire for him threatening to surface. It was embarrassing and admittedly disgusting to me, how even in moments as such, there was always going to be some shred of me that could neither ignore nor deny my constant thirst for him to satisfy me in ways only Victor knew how.

“You’ve made your point.” I tried to remain calm while fighting for air. I was willing to bet money that he could feel my pulse quickening beneath his grip. If even one of his claws came out I’d be bleeding out all over the linoleum.

“Have I?”

“You have five seconds to get the fuck off of me... or I walk.” He stared me in the eye only a few seconds longer before relinquishing his grip. If there was anything I caught on to in the seven months we’ve been seeing each other, if that’s even what you wanna call him dropping by for food, sex and quality conversation with a solid night’s rest, it’s that he actually greatly enjoyed having me in his life. He would never admit it, of course, being the poster boy for hypermasculinity; no way he’d display the level of emotion required to confess he liked me. But I picked up on it in subtle ways he probably doesn’t even notice. The way he throws his arm over me in his sleep, subconsciously keeping me in place with him. The way he came over and pretended it was just for sex, when we wouldn’t wind up having sex at all. The flowers he bought me, before throwing them to the wall in a rage. Most importantly, the way he wouldn’t stay gone long after a fight and would come back with his tail tucked in ready to apologize, afraid that would be the fight that finally scared me off and into the arms of someone else. I wasn’t using that to my advantage here, but I was letting him know what we both knew but never spoke of:

He wanted me around. He liked me.

I took a moment to allow oxygen to return to my lungs before I addressed him. “I pushed a button o’ yours with that little J-word?”

“What on Earth gave you that idea?” he asked sarcastically.

I nodded. “Fine. Noted. But I promise you, next time you use your words, because if you ever think about putting your hands on me again-”

“-Now you’re ending sentences with threats?”

“Guarantees, right?” I stalked to the corner of the kitchen and grabbed the broom that was wedged between the wall and my fridge then slammed it into his chest. “Dust pan behind the fridge,” was all I said before making my way to the bedroom.

“We’re not done-”

“-I am.” The moment I turned the corner out of the kitchen he was following me, the broom loudly clapping against the kitchen floor. The same hand that was just wrapped tightly around my throat was now finding its way around my waist along with his other one, pressing me to the wall. “Victor-“

“-I’ll getcha new flowers.”

“Fuck the flowers and fuck you.” He wasn’t hearing any of it. He grabbed my wrists and began making his way to the couch, my legs clumsily bumping into any and everything I walked towards. 

“I’m not gonna pour my heart out an’ tell you all the fucked up things about me, if that’s what you’re waitin’ for me to do.”

“Mutant in human world. It’s not hard to figure out.”

“And I’m not tellin’ you the textbook of reasons I’m not holdin’ hands with him either.”

“And I’m not agreeing to stay away from him for your reasons and personal grudges unknown.”

“So maybe I didn’t make myself as clear as I thought.” Before I was aware the back of my legs bumped into the arm of my couch. I was desperate to create some sort of distance between us, so I fell backwards and wiggled away to the far opposite end of the couch. He stood at my feet and without breaking eye contact, lifted the loose black henley from his chest. He was possibly the only person I knew that could wear black and long sleeves in the peak of a summer in the city without breaking a sweat. But now wasn’t the time to be impressed by minor things.

“It’s too hot for this, too.”

“You tellin’ me no?”

“Yes!”

“Why?” he asked as he continued advancing in my direction, fumbling with the belt on his jeans as he kicked his shoes off.

“Because I don’t feel like it. You’re not about to makeup sex your way out of putting your hands on me, dick.”

He shrugged to himself. “You never turned it down before.”

“Well, you know what they say the definition of insanity is, right…”

“Doin’ the same shit, expecting different results.”

“And I want different results, Victor.”

“Fine. So let’s try somethin’ different.” Without a word or warning he bent down and scooped me up, a hand firmly resting under each of my thighs, my legs snaked around his waist. I thought he was headed towards the bedroom, but he took a surprising left turn to the apartment balcony, gripping me tightly before using a hand to open the sliding glass door. The humidity instantly smothered me, my glasses fogging from the shock of being exposed to the summer heat after leaving my air conditioned living room. He sat in one of the wicker seats of my patio set and placed me in his lap, lifting my sundress so I could straddle him free of obstruction. He placed me directly onto his cock and was not gentle about it; my head instantly fell back as a rush of air escaped my chest, my hands finding his neck. 

“Fuck,” I whispered.

“Exactly.”

“Shut the hell up.” There was no time for playful banter. The sun had only just started to set, meaning there was still plenty daylight for us to be seen; this had to be quick. And quiet. Quiet would be the hard part without a doubt. With his help, I lifted my body up and down, his fingertips digging into my hips as he held tightly to my waist. “Holy shit, Vic.”

“Still think I’m jealous?”

I grinned to myself. “I dunno; you’re fuckin’ me like you got somethin’ to prove,” I teased. Clearly there was jealousy but I knew better than to answer him with a yes. But if jealousy is this good a sexual motivator, I’d be happy with this silver lining to our fight. He lifted my dress up more, enough for him to expose my tits and seize my right one with his mouth. My head fell back, a cry escaping me when I felt the sharp stab of his teeth on the mound of flesh. “Fuck!” He growled, his mouth vibrating slightly around my nipple. 

“Ya still gonna run away and leave a note?” he asked, the heat from his mouth making toes curl.

“Never.” Unless he pushed me to it, of course. 

I felt the pads of his fingertips press my scalp, my hair tightly intertwined in his digits as he pulled my head back and forced me to make eye contact. “Don’t threaten to walk again.”

I rolled my eyes. “Or else?” I mocked.

He shook his head, his pelvis ceasing, the rapid rise and fall of our chests the only movement remaining between us. “No. Just don’t.”

I stared at him a moment longer and simply nodded before standing and turning around, lifting my dress over my head, then taking the rusty balcony rail in my hands to steady myself. I turned to look at him; to my surprise he was already stroking himself in the absence of something else warm wrapped around his cock. “Whatcha waitin’ for?”

“Can’t enjoy the view?”

“Enjoy it any longer and I’m gonna melt.”

“Someone other than me hungry for it?” he said with a hard slap to my right cheek before roughly re-entering from behind, making me jerk forward into the hot metal rail. I grunted at the pain in effort not to be too loud and settled comfortably on him, my body fitting him like a glove. He was in no way gentle as he thrust himself in and out of me, primal grunts escaping his chest every time his hips rammed into my ass. My tits would surely be bruised the way I was uncomfortably pressed into the railing. I stared at the rusted and flaking metal coating of the bars beneath my arms and fought to keep my legs from collapsing beneath me, every bone in my limbs turning to apple sauce, my muscles sore and aching. If only this kind of workout kept me in shape and was doctor recommended. And quiet as I was, there was nothing I could do to muffle the loud smack that echoed in the air when Victor got slap happy, or the sound that came from my mouth as a result. The funny thing was, the more I tried to shush him, the more intensely he fucked me, and the more sound we both ended up making. 

“Sss, holy fuck! Fuck fuck fuck, Vic! Shit!” I cried out, the restraint I had for my volume loosening. On a slower day I would have had a bit more self control, but I never lasted long, or quietly, when he was in a more animalistic mood.

“Mm, that’s right,” he grunted, digging his fingers into my hip bones. “Lemme have it, baby.” And before I knew it I did exactly that. My legs gave out beneath me and I fell to my knees, failing to hold myself up on the balcony railing any longer as I came. My moans were beyond stifling, and I felt nothing else, not even the pools of sweat pouring out of me. For just a moment I’d fallen into a deep well of ecstasy, my head throbbing from the mix of summer heat and pleasure, before I regained some composure to return the favor. 

I grabbed the thin cushion from my patio chair and placed it at his feet and knelt before him, taking him into my mouth as deep as I could. As hungrily as I could. Without hesitation his hands flew to my head, cradling the back of my skull and maneuvering me to a pace of his pleasure. “Atta girl,” he encouraged. He knew I was a sucker for praise, and after being a complete asshole I was expecting him to lay it on with the ass kissing for the rest of the evening. Now he had me working like I was the jealous one, when really I was only in competition with myself; I wanted to see if I could make him cum quicker than any of the other times I did this. I worked my head in a swivel and both of my hands in opposing twisting motion, pulling him into me as far as I could without biting off more than I could chew. It was useless, however, since Victor was determined to push my head down way past my limits. His hips undulated as he thrust his dick deeper and deeper into my throat. He’d momentarily pause and hold his place before pulling out to allow me to draw air, all before repeating the process. “Look at me,” he demanded, which was all he needed to say for me to know what time it was. I stared upwards at him with his cock still in my mouth, my eyes glassy with tears, and he pushed himself deep into my throat one final time and pumped the tip of his dick at the back of my throat. He held eye contact for as long as he could before his head fell backwards, eyes slamming shut as I felt the muscles of his thighs tighten. He grunted a low, beastlike growl before I felt him release all he had to offer in my throat, the sensation slightly tickling. I slowly jerked his dick off for good measure to ensure I got him for every drop before swallowing the thick, sticky fluid, swirling my tongue around his tip before he removed himself from my mouth. 

“Ah, Jesus fuck,” he sighed, his chest rising and falling as he tried to recover.

“I think I missed that Sunday school lesson.” He rolled his eyes and looked down at me, head still resting in his lap, before rising and extending a hand. I grabbed and he pulled me up, coming face to face with him and the wild grin plastered on his face. “Back inside before my ass gets covered in bug bites.”

“I could scratch it for ya,” he offered, running a claw harmlessly up my spine. I shivered and pushed away from him before round two threatened to begin, sliding the balcony door open, relieved once the ice cold air conditioning hit my chest.

“No thanks. But you absolutely can buy me another bouquet of flowers. And a vase, while you’re at it.”

[windvexer]

Hi Chicken!

Let me start off by saying that you’ve become my favorite witchcraft blog on the hellsite. You’re so articulate and well-informed, I’ve only been following you a short time but I feel I’ve learned so much from you.

Now let me ask, can you give me any information a beginner should know about cord cutting ceremonies? Are there methods that you’ve tried and prefer? I’ve got an ex that I can’t help from taking up space in my head and heart, and I am ready to move away from them for good. I apologize if this isn’t really up your lane, but I figured you might have some good insight.

Keep doing the good work, Chicken. We love you!

Thank you for the welcome distraction from my steadily growing rage. Facebook is not it today, my friends.

I have never been very into cord cutting. It's one of those things I've never found to be highly useful or necessary.

My thoughts and opinions, as usual YMMV:

Energetic cords are not necessarily the reason you are having thoughts/feelings about a person you don't want to think about or feel about.

Energetic cords are, well, literally little metaphysical tubes that send energy back and forth.

But even if the cord is cut, removed, or damaged, that doesn't erase every part of you that is still thinking of/feeling about a person.

Things change us. The present you is not the past you but just with energy cords attached to a person you're not about any more.

In my beliefs, there would be some part of you (or a few parts) which are continuously thinking/feeling about this person.

These parts may have different motivations. One part may be thinking about that person because they made you feel less than worthy, and this part of you is always preoccupied with worthiness and strives to achieve it at all times. So this part can't let go because it was made to feel unworthy.

Another part may be a part which prides itself on being loving. So it constantly ruminates on this past person because it questions how it could be more loving and improve itself in the future.

These are only examples: parts and reasons for preoccupations are infinite.

An actual cord connection which is still transmitting energy is possible. In my beliefs, what this would do is compel additional/thoughts feelings, or more often influence you to ponder this other person. Usually, we can identify cords by a feeling of connection - that you still feel connected to the person, not that you are just having thoughts or feelings about them.

However, even if the cord were totally inert and removed, that does not "magically" remove all the changes that occurred to you, the ways you feel, and the mental habits and behaviors that have arisen out of this situation.

A cord cutting can help. But it isn't necessarily going to fix things the way you hope it will.

It may be of much greater value to spend time with your inner parts, treat them with love and support, and help these inner parts of yourself heal, grow, and learn how to integrate changes and realizations into a new pattern of healthy growth.

As far as an actual cord cutting:

I would highly, extremely recommend performing divination on the ceremony ahead of time, especially in the categories of immediate effects, things to watch out for, and expected outcomes.

For example, a friend of mine left a very abusive ex in the last calendar year. They had been together for many years. When she tried to pull out the cord, it made her very physically nauseous. Her guide told her that this connection had been too internalized for her to safely rip it out, and she needed to go about healing in a different way.

It is of use to use physical components, such as a string that represents the cord, and physically break it or snip it in two.

Watch yourself carefully for "tailspin" behavior, as can sometimes occur when we work magic on our own minds and emotions (this may include strange emotional patterns, temporary worsening or altering of thought patterns, and physical pains).

If it brings you peace and satisfaction, don't let me dissuade you from a cord cutting ceremony. I believe they have a use, and that they are a fine way to start a healing process. But I do not believe they are the totality of the healing process in and of themselves.

[chudleycanonficfest]

Vino

Day 25, Post #1 by @thedistantdusk

Title: Vino Author/Artist: TheDistantDusk Pairing: Harry/Ginny Prompt: In Vino Veritas Rating: E (to be safe) for smutty references.    Trigger Warning(s) (if any): Drinking (everyone of legal age). Frank discussion of sex acts. 

They started drinking at 1 PM. 

It seemed the best way to spend the day together before the Hogsmeade day — not weekend, much to Harry’s disappointment— reached its untimely conclusion. He had to cancel the upstairs room he rented for them, too, which he’s still not chuffed about, and not just because they’d definitely have shagged.

Because with Ginny, It’s more than just physical. It’s always been more than just physical. He misses her… deeply, hollowly misses her. It’s a constant ache in the pit of his stomach, like there’s always part of him that’s somewhere else. They had to settle for a heated snog behind the Three Broomsticks before heading in to escape the cold, but that hadn’t been enough. For either of them.

Of course, on the surface he pretended to understand the sudden change of events. It’s a particularly cold February, so cold that McGonagall was close to canceling the Hogsmeade visit altogether. According to Ginny, she only settled for an early dismissal instead when the student body threatened to mutiny. So Ginny’s due back at 6 now, which truly is shit, but anything is better than not seeing her at all.

Harry blinks at his beautiful girlfriend across the table and wonders why she’s been withdrawn today. Distant. At first, he chalked this up to school stress. After all, she is quidditch captain. He knows firsthand how stressful that can be— and while he’d held the captaincy, NEWTS hadn’t even been on the horizon yet. He also hadn’t dealt with a castle full of ghosts and sadness and distorted memories. 

After the drinks started flowing, though, it became clear that school stress wasn’t the issue. Or at least not the biggest one. When she finished her first pint, she started sending him these fleeting looks of puzzlement in between updating him on the Hogwarts gossip. Her second and third pints brought even greater looks of scrutiny.  Now that she’s midway through her fourth pint, she’s full-on staring at him. For the past twenty minutes, he’s felt a bit like an animal in a zoo. Harry hasn’t known what to do about that, really. As much as he loves her, Ginny’s not known for her subtlety. Or patience. She’s always come outright with any concerns or problems, always addressed them head-on. So this constant look of confusion has been… well, confusing. Harry handled the last twenty minutes the best way he knows how: drinking more, holding her hand across the table, and waiting for her to take the lead. He offers a tiny smile and reaches for his pint. He’s content to wait as long as she needs, for whatever she needs.  As it turns out, though, he decides to take a drink at the worst possible moment. Had he been looking, he would’ve seen her cock her head and open her mouth as she reached some sort of internal breaking point. Unfortunately, he just brings his pint glass to his lips instead. So for better or worse, all he hears is the question itself.  “Why do you go down on me so much?” Harry immediately chokes on his beer. It splatters down his front, coating the table in amber specks. He apologizes through a cough and grapples with a napkin, but Ginny remains unfazed. “I… erm.” He coughs again, shaking his head. “Sorry. Wasn't expecting—” “And I’m not complaining,” she says quickly, resting her chin on her palm. “I mean, obviously.”  Oh? He relishes the blush that creeps up her neck. “Then what are—” “It’s just…” She sighs, peering down at her pint glass. “I’ve spoken to Luna about it, and as much as she—"

“You’ve… you’ve spoken to Luna about this?” he asks weakly, head spinning. “Who else—?”

  Ginny plows on as if she hasn’t heard him. “I just figured, I guess, that when we properly started shagging you’d do it less. But you erm… haven’t. So.”

  There’s a pause as the blush from before creeps over her entire face. 

  Harry takes another cautious sip of his pint as a raucous peal of laughter erupts behind him. A firm reminder that they’re very much in public. He squints at the woodgrain on the table. Why is that turning him on even more?

  “Erm… what exactly do you want to know?” he asks after a minute, surprised at how graveled his voice sounds. 

  Ginny sighs, still holding her face in her hands. “Just that, really,” she murmurs, tongue coming out to wet her lips. Fuck. He grips his glass even tighter. “I just… I want to know. Why do you do it so much?” 

  “Erm…” Harry winces. He realizes he’s been saying that a lot.

Ginny’s hand comes up to rest on his, and it’s only when she speaks again that he realizes how drunk she truly is. “Take as long as you need,” she slurs sagely, peering into his eyes. “I’ve been waiting to hear these words for a long time, Harry.” 

And he’d laugh, probably, if this entire concept didn’t terrify him a bit to explain. 

  Bloody words. 

  He twists his pint glass, watching as foam overlaps its white-capped ring. Words have never been his strong suit. How, exactly, is he meant to convert this string of images and feelings into something resembling an explanation? 

  But it’s clearly something she wants answered. Something that’s probably bothered her for longer than she wants to admit. So Harry shuts his eyes, trying to remember, trying to think. 

  He honestly hadn’t given the concept much thought until sixth year. He knew that… general activity… happened before they started dating— obviously. The twins (perhaps deliberately) left enough moving magazines around the Burrow to leave little to the imagination. So he’d seen wizards doing it. They seemed to enjoy it almost as much as the witches splayed out in front of them. Harry just hadn’t considered, really, that he’d ever do it for any reason other than paying his dues. It seemed a simple act of reciprocity. Something one did out of expectation rather than genuine interest. 

  A wry smile creeps across his lips when he thinks about that particular misconception. Because that’s the furthest from the truth, isn’t it? Their relationship flashes through his mind like a film reel. The first time his thigh slipped between her legs as they snogged on the lawn. The pride that swelled in his chest as she wrapped her thighs around it, clutching it as close to her center as she could as she rocked, rocked, rocked. 

  Fuck, how he’d cherished the trousers he wore that day, too. For over a year, they were the closest thing he had to her knickers— and even then, he stole that first pair of knickers right off her. Though perhaps “stole” was the wrong word, because that implied some degree of secrecy… and there was nothing secret about it. He just winked at her as he pulled those blue knickers down her thighs and stuffed them in his trouser pocket. Ginny stared down at him, her chest flushed and heaving. He felt like the most powerful person alive before he even started, and when he actually did… 

  Fuck.

  He returns to the present and adjusts himself beneath the table. 

  “I… erm,” he starts, clearing his throat. “I guess I’m… well, I’ve never been good at….” He makes a broad gesture. “Touch. Yeah?”

  Ginny blinks. “Touch?”

  Harry nods, biting inside his cheek. “Erm. When I kissed you in the common room in sixth year, that was the first time I really understood I could, you know, touch you. To make you happy. To…” He huffs out a sigh, his thoughts growing more sluggish. He sifts through them for a few seconds before reaching the answer he’s searched for all along. 

  “I erm. I figured out pretty quickly that I could use touch to turn you on,” he admits to the woodgrain. “And erm… for someone who wasn’t used to touching, that was pretty… nice. To learn I had that power.” 

  His whole face feels red-hot, like it might combust at any second, but he takes her silence as a cue to continue. 

  “Anyway. As soon as we started snogging, I really wanted to do it, but obviously we didn’t get the chance at school. So instead I thought about it. Wanked about it. For months.” He lets out a slow breath through his nose and focuses on a wood beam above their heads. 

  Has he ever admitted to a specific wanking fantasy before? He doesn’t think so. 

  “Continue.” Ginny’s voice warbles through his thoughts. 

  He swallows and tilts his head down to face her again, pleased to see that confusion has evaporated from her face entirely. Now she’s looking… uncomfortable… for entirely different reasons. 

  Harry smirks; he’s liking this whole opening-up thing more than he thought. But what else to tell her… hmm.

  “Well, we both know I wasn’t great at first, of course,” he says, shrugging. “But you were erm. A good teacher.” He bites his lip again and remembers those early, awkward days when she still needed to shift against his face, to direct him where he needed to go.

Even back then, she lost all sense of decorum pretty fast; that was always his favorite part, really… when she started in with the deep moans, commanding him to add more fingers, to keep them in place, to crook them against her. There was no sense of accomplishment greater than the way she gripped his ears, his hair, his shoulders, her thighs clenching around his entire face as she choked out his name. Being surrounded by her— pressing his tongue against the final pulses of her clit as she rhythmically clenched against his fingers— made him feel more complete than anything else. It left her dazed and gasping; it left him feeling not only useful, but powerful. Necessary. 

  The whole ordeal's made him come in his trousers, actually. More than once. And speaking of trousers…

  Harry clears his throat. “You could’ve asked a while ago, you know,” he says as casually as he can with a raging hard-on. “Back when I took your knickers, even. I want you to tell me if you have a question about anything. Ok?” He swallows, finally blinking up at her.

  Shit. 

  If she looked distracted before, it’s nothing compared to now. She’s just peering at him with lips parted, chest heaving, eyes unfocused. One hand is balled into a fist on the table top, the other gripping on her thigh.

  Ginny eventually rips her eyes away with an annoyed whimper. “Fucking fuck,” she mutters, rubbing her temples. “I’m so fucking turned on.” 

  Harry laughs and finishes his pint, his chest bubbling with pride. “I guess that’s a yes.” 

[invisibleanonymousmonsters]

Fight Club

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: Everyone will say Jason Todd is protective of the people he loves. But sometimes independence is more important than protecting. 

Word Count: 4,000 [One Shot]

Warnings: harassment, stalking, general daily discomfort that women have to deal with 

Y/N was so fucking tired.

It was a miracle that she hadn’t fallen asleep on the bus home from work.

But anyone with half a brain knew that doing so in Gotham was basically asking to get robbed or worse.

Never fall asleep on public transit. Only buy purses and wallets that zip close. Never leave any personal belongings alone in public. Never use an ATM at night. Only take well-traveled and well-lit routes. Always be aware of your surroundings.

These were the unwritten rules of living in Gotham. It was how you stayed safe, how you stayed alive. But even when one followed them strictly, that didn’t insure that they would always be safe.

Which is why Y/N noticed a middle-aged man staring her down on the bus. He knew what he was doing. He knew that he was making her uncomfortable. He was clearly getting off on it.

Y/N just blasted the music in her headphones and pretended not to notice. But she could feel his leering and it made her stomach twist into knots.

She looked down at her watch: 6PM.

Y/N knew she could call Jason. She knew this.

It would take her all of 30 seconds to explain the situation, Jason would instantly understand and then be waiting at her bus stop for her, ready to escort her home safely and glare at whoever had made her uncomfortable.

But Jason was probably sleeping still. 

Last night, he’d returned from patrol needing stitches and had so many bruises scattered across his face that Y/N kept messing up her counting. She was also suspicious that his right hand was broken, but Jason brushed if off so smoothly that she let it slide.

The point was that Y/N had managed to force pain meds on her boyfriend. Jason always slept until late afternoon after patrols anyways, basically becoming nocturnal since he often wouldn’t get back until 5AM.

The meds were meant to make him sleep all day and force him to recover.

The stubborn part of Y/N didn’t want to prevent Jason from getting his much needed recovery and rest.

Except this guy didn’t plan on just staring at her.

When he saw that she was getting off at the stop that was just announced, he too stood up from his seat and moved to the other exit that she wasn’t using.

Y/N was aware of all of this, making sure to track him subtly through the corner of her gaze. It was from the conditioning that all women unfortunately had to go through, whether they realized or not.

Without turning around, she caught his reflection in the window of a building she walked past. He kept a distance to remain unsuspicious, but it was obvious that he was following her.

Y/N tried to subtly walk faster. But she also realized she couldn’t go straight home now. Even with Red Hood being her live-in boyfriend, there was no way she was letting this creep know where she lived.

She started taking a strange route, making weird turns. But it was hard not to lose him without fully running, which she didn’t want to do until it felt absolutely necessary.

But then she came upon a coffeeshop that she knew had a front and back entrance.

She quickly went inside and pretended to get in line for coffee. But when she looked for the man in the corner of her eye, he wasn’t going to come in. Instead, he decided to linger outside and wait for her to come out.

Y/N subtly left the line and made for the back exit.

‘Now it’s time to run,’ she thought to herself.

Y/N was grateful that she had decided to wear stylish sneakers today instead of heels.

By the time she reached the steps of her apartment building, she was breathing heavily. She had been looking over her shoulder every few feet to make sure the creep didn’t get smart.

When she reached her door, she made sure to be quiet in case Jason was still sleeping. Then when she reached the bedroom and quietly opened the door, her mountain of a boyfriend was still passed out in bed with his face pressed into her pillow.

Y/N decided to get started on dinner and quietly moved about the kitchen.

But no matter how much she tried to concentrate on her cooking, her mind kept returning to the man who had tried to follow her home.

What would he have done if he found out where she lived?

Did he plan on grabbing her before she got there?

Did he just get off on making women scared?

Was he planning on raping her? Abducting her? Killing her?

The more Y/N thought about it, the more her fear shifted into rage. Why was it so much more unsafe for women to just merely exist in the world?

But she had no intention of telling Jason.

He would be furious. Not at her, at a man who thought it was OK to even make his girlfriend feel uncomfortable and unsafe – let alone any woman. He would go on a hunt for him and teach him a lesson.

Jason Todd was protective of the people he loved and the innocent – of which Y/N was both. But he also had a bad temper. And whoever was the reason for it starting up better run for their life because Red Hood was not a merciful man and his morals were unpredictable.

So, no. Y/N was not planning on telling her boyfriend, who was also secretly a vigilante with rage issues, about the man who ogled her on public transit and tried to follow her home.

But Y/N was so lost in her thoughts that she didn’t hear said boyfriend finally wake up.

Next thing she knew, someone was slowly wrapping their arms around her waist.

Y/N jumped.

Obviously it was Jason. She knew that. This was not uncommon behavior for him.

But after the day she had and being lost in her thoughts, the feeling of someone’s touch scared the life out of her.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Jason immediately muttered in a whisper at her reaction. “It’s just me.”

Y/N turned around in hopes of easing any worry before he asked any questions.

“Sorry,” she gasped. “I didn’t hear you wake up.”

But Jason narrowed his gaze at the crazed look in her eyes. He could somehow feel her heart racing as he gripped her torso, and traced lines up and down her rib cage with his thumbs in an attempt to soothe her.

“What happened?” He asked as he brushed some hair out of her face.

“Nothing. I’m fine. I was just in my head and zoning out, so you scared me.”

Jason was basically a human lie detector. So he raised an eyebrow at her attempt.

“Y/N,” he warned.

She sighed and shook her head. “Promise you’ll just listen? That you won’t freak out?”

Now Jason was even more worried. “Y/N, what happened?”

She sighed again, knowing it was pointless to ask him not to freak out when it came to her. Now all she could hope for is that she’d be able to calm him down.

Y/N explained what happened to Jason: the bus, the following, the running to make sure a threatening stranger didn’t follow her home.

She could see Jason’s body getting more and more tense, and his expression angrier and angrier. His hands clenched into fits. His posture straightened with purpose.

“Did he grab you? Did he touch you?” Jason asked as soon as he was sure she was done with her whole story.

“No, but…” her words died out.

“He didn’t have to for you to feel violate,” Jason offered her.

Y/N nodded and hung her head.

“Why didn’t you call me?” Jason asked softly.

“I…I don’t know. I wanted to you to rest.” Then Y/N really thought about it. “And despite his intentions being very clear…there was still a voice in my head telling me not to overreact, that there was a small chance I was being paranoid.”

“Y/N, even if you had been wrong, I would’ve rather you felt safe than worry about being wrong. I wouldn’t have been mad at you, or even annoyed.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Y/N.” Jason sighed and pulled her into his arms. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I just love you and want you to be safe.”

She nodded into his shoulder.

———

For the next week, Jason was waiting for Y/N every day after work at her bus stop to walk her home. She didn’t ask him to or even suggest it. But Jason knew she was still shaken after the incident. And the last thing he wanted was his girlfriend living in fear.

On the eighth day of him doing this, Y/N finally spoke up.

“Jason, ya know, you can’t do this forever…”

“I know,” he smirked.

“Why are you smiling?”

“How would you feel about me teaching you some self defense?”

Y/N stopped walking and turned to face him. “Are you messing with me?”

“Nope.”

———

The next weekend, Y/N found herself in the bat cave with her boyfriend, both of them in workout clothes.

“First things first, you have to gain your strength. I can teach you all the moves I want, but you have to make sure your body is in the right condition to defend yourself. And I don’t mean just physically. Confidence is key, beautiful.”

Y/N rolled her eyes at the last part, but still smiled.

“Did we have to have an audience?” She asked as she looked over to see that Tim was on the computer, and Dick and Barbara were working out together.

“Ignore them.”

The next couple of hours, Jason taught Y/N all of the basics of self defense. Especially the tips that benefitted women.

Eye strike. Knee to the groin. Heel-palm attack. Elbow hit. How to escape from a bear-hug attack. How to free herself from a choke hold. How to get out of a headlock.

Y/N was covered with sweat. Meanwhile, Jason looked as put together as he had when they started.

“OK,” she finally said with hands on her hips as she tried to catch her breath. “But if someone that’s the same size as me tried to attack me, I don’t have a chance.”

Jason tilted his head to the side. “And who said that?”

Y/N rolled her eyes. “J, come on. Look at you! Do you really think I would be able to get away – no matter how hard I tried?”

She looked her boyfriend up and down. He was built like a tank, standing at 6’3 and with an almost inhuman width. Just his thighs seemed bigger than her torso.

While Y/N loved cuddly with her giant teddy bear of a boyfriend, she had mercy for anyone that decided to pick a fight with Jason Todd or Red Hood. They didn’t stand a chance.

“Size isn’t everything,” Jason told her with a wink.

She rolled her eyes again.

“Dick! Barbara! Can you come here for a sec?”

“What’s up?” Dick asked with Barbara by his side.

“Y/N thinks that she’d never be able to take on someone bigger than her,” Jason shared with them.

Barbara didn’t even bother trying to hide her laughter.

Dick smirked. “It’ll take a lot of training, Y/N. But don’t worry, I’ll teach you how to kick Jason’s ass. Until then, let us know if he’s giving you any trouble and we’ll handle him for you.”

Jason glared at his older brother, but chose not to give his usual sarcastic retorts. He turned his attention back to Y/N instead. “Dicky here is 5’10 and about 175. Meanwhile, Babs is 5’6 and can’t weigh more than 120.”

Barbara crossed her arms. “Didn’t you ever learn that it’s not polite to comment on a woman’s weight?”

Jason gave her an apologetic look but he knew she wasn’t actually offended. “The point is that I’ve seen Barbara hand Dick his ass more times than I can count. Not to mention guys twice her size.”

Then he looked at the couple and gestured to the sparring mat. “Would you be so kind?”

Dick didn’t seem to have any issue with facing off with his girlfriend.

Meanwhile, Barbara looked excited.

As the two of them began sparring, Jason lowered his voice down to Y/N and pointed out Barbara’s strategies and moves. Then he would explain how she was manipulating her smaller frame and turning it into an advantage.

Next thing Y/N knew, Barbara had Dick on the floor.

Dick was beaming up at his girlfriend with nothing but pride and awe.

“See?” Jason muttered quietly in Y/N’s ear.

Barbara laughed and held a hand to help Dick up. He jumped back onto his feet and gave his girlfriend a kiss. 

“What’s going on?” A voice said at the bottom of the stairs.

They all turned to see Damian had entered the Bat Cave.

“Teaching Y/N some self defense,” Jason shrugged.

Damian sighed. “I do not understand why society does not train women to defend themselves – especially when they are not protected from evil men.”

Y/N laughed. “Not everyone was raised by a league of assassins, Damian.”

But then Damian’s words hit her again in a different way. She spaced out for a moment.

Jason looked at her with concern. “You OK?”

She just nodded.

He wasn’t convinced, but let her be. “I think that’s enough training for today.”

Jason’s brothers convinced him and Y/N to stay for a family movie night. 

They used Jason’s old room to shower, since Y/N was covered in sweat by the end of her self defense lesson. Jason gave her some of his old clothes for her to wear that he’d left behind.

When they got to the theatre room, Jason could tell how exhausted Y/N was. She was going to be sore tomorrow – probably for a few days, actually.

She curled into Jason as they grabbed one of the love seats. In moments like these, Jason was always amused how she seemed more like his pet cat than his girlfriend.

Dick and Barbara cuddled together, as well.

Damian brought a book, pretended to already be bored, and acted like he was forced to join family movie night.

Tim brought in his laptop so he could continue to work.

Alfred brought them snacks every so often.

Even Bruce came in halfway through the movie, making his entrance so subtle that they almost didn’t notice.

But lo and behold, not even 15 minutes into the movie, Y/N had passed out. 

Jason ended up having to carry her to his car after the movie – not that he minded in the slightest – and drive home as smoothly as possible, so he didn’t wake her.

———

A few days later, Y/N found Jason reading while lounging on the couch in the living room of their shared apartment.

She hopped on beside him, laying across his chest and sliding underneath his book.

Jason chuckled at her antics and put his book down, realizing she wanted his full attention and not just to snuggle while he continued to read.

“So, I was thinking…” Y/N began.

“Mhmm,” Jason hummed.

“I’m not the only woman in Gotham who’s been harassed. You of all people know that – probably better than I do.”

Jason’s amusement disappeared as he listened to where she was going.

“Did you know that in most big cities, there are almost always more women than men?”

“I did not.”

Then she sat up straight, but remained close to him. “But Gotham is the only major American city where there are 20% more men than women.” She waited for him to interrupt, but he just continued to pay close attention. “Researchers believe it’s because of the high crime rate in Gotham, and therefore it’s even more unsafe for women to live here than men.”

“Makes sense,” Jason agreed. “Why are you telling me this?”

“When you started giving me self-defense lessons and then Damian made the comment about no one training women, I kept thinking how other women don’t have a family of vigilantes to keep them safe or teach them how to defend themselves.”

“I’ve seen enough of this city to know that you’re right,” Jason commented darkly.

“Exactly.”

“You still haven’t explained why we’re talking about this…”

“Right,” Y/N smiled embarrassingly. “What if we – I don’t know – started a center for women to learn what you taught me. Completely pro bono. Like a…”

“Fight Club?” Jason offered with a smirk.

“Well, not exactly. But kinda,” Y/N giggled.

Then she frowned as her mind was still working all of it out. “I just don’t know who could teach it. You and your family are already too busy. Teaching women how to defend themselves is a little beneath you…”

“First of all, it’s not beneath us. But you’re right: Dick barely has a second to spend with Babs. Tim is so sleep deprived that he’s just gonna collapse one day. It also wouldn’t be smart for our cover and show that all the Wayne kids can hold themselves in a fight. People might start putting things together...”

“Right,” Y/N agreed and looked further disappointed.

“Hey,” Jason said with an encouraging smile and lifted her chin to look at him. “It’s a good idea. And between my brothers and me, we know plenty of retired heroes that would be more than willing to help out.”

Y/N’s eyes brightened. “Really?”

He nodded. “Dinah, Roy, Wally and Artemis. Hell, I bet if Bruce mentioned it to Diana, she’d smuggle in some Amazons to really show ‘em.”

Y/N smiled at the idea.

“You should tell Bruce,” Jason added.

“Bruce?”

“He has a habit of blindly writing checks for a good cause. I bet he’d just straight up buy you a warehouse to hold classes in.”

She frowned. “I don’t – won’t he feel like I’m taking advantage of him?”

Jason laughed. “I know he’s shit at showing it, but Bruce likes you. And I think he’d be more than happy to help.”

Y/N’s eyes glazed over. “Bruce Wayne likes me?”

He rolled his eyes. “Don’t let it get to your head…”

“So, you think this is a good idea?”

Jason couldn’t help himself when she looked this adorable and excited. He grabbed her torso and flipped them so her back was on the couch and he was now hovering above her.

“I think it’s a great idea,” he told her softly before kissing her.

But before Y/N could push the intimacy any further, Jason pulled away from her lips.

“I have to tell you something,” his voice suddenly went serious.

Y/N’s smile dropped. “What? What is it?”

“I know you didn’t want me to…”

Then she sat up, lightly pushing Jason off of her. “Christ, Jason. What did you do?”

He took in a quick breath. “I found him.”

“Found who?”

“The guy who followed you.”

“Fuck,” Y/N put her hands over her face. “Jason. God. What the fuck.” “I know! I know. I should’ve told you sooner.”

Y/N rubbed her face and looked at him. “Please, please tell you didn’t kill him.”

Jason had the audacity to roll his eyes. “I didn’t kill him, OK? Happy?”

“No, I’m not happy! You went after him when I explicitly asked you not to!”

“Did you forget that the guy you’re dating is also a vigilante? In what world did you expect me to not look him up?” He shook his head in wonder. “I mean, the idiot’s face was all over the public transit database I hacked when I looked up the footage from the cameras on your bus – not to mention the footage from half the storefronts you walked by.”

Y/N only glared at him.

“Don’t be mad,” he requested.

“Well, I am.”

Jason sighed. Then he scooted closer, hoping she’d allow it. “Look, I get what’s going on. And I get why you want to help all these women.”

She eyed him, but let him continue.

“I’m sure it’s hard to believe, but I know what it’s like to feel like you can’t protect yourself.” He cleared his throat, catching himself. “I know it’s not the same as what women have to deal with on a daily basis. I’ll never really know what that’s like.”

Jason kept all the terrible things he’d seen on patrol to himself. But there were things he knew would terrify and traumatize her. Because of this, Jason wasn’t as oblivious to the suffering of women as the majority of men were. Or maybe he just chose to actually acknowledge it and care.

He took in a deep breath. “But I just hated the idea of someone doing that to you. And I know there’s probably a million times its happened and you haven’t told me, or you didn’t even notice because you’ve gotten so used to it. I just…I couldn’t let him get away with it.”

Jason paused to let her process his excuse. He’d be the first to admit it wasn’t a good one.

But Jason Todd was fiercely protective of the people he loved. And Red Hood’s sole purpose was to protect the those who couldn’t protect themselves – no matter the cost.

So when his girlfriend was troubled enough to lose sleep or zoned out constantly to rehash what happened, he was going to do something about it.

Jason was fully aware of his anger issues. But he also learned how to redirect them to be something a bit more productive.

“So…what did you do to him?” Y/N asked nervously.

He gave her a look, silently asking her if she really wanted to know.

“Jason…” she warned him.

“He had a record, OK? Let’s just say you weren’t the first woman he’s done that to. And a lot of them weren’t as lucky as you. So he got what he fucking deserved.”

“And what is that?” She pushed, refusing to let him gloss over it so easily.

Jason rolled his eyes. “I roughed him up a bit, alright? Told him I’d be watching. Scared the shit out of him enough that, hopefully, he won’t ever pull that shit again.”

Y/N let out a laugh and shook her head at him.

Jason would take her amusement over her anger any day, even if she was teasing him.

“What?” He asked through a grin.

She bopped his nose. “So protective over me.”

Jason had enough of the distance between them.

He moved her body so she had no choice but to sit on his lap. “‘Course I am.”

Then he kissed her. But when he pulled away, his face was rather thoughtful.

“You’re not going to feel helpless forever, ya know.”

They were words to comfort her. Because deep down Jason knew that promising to always be there for her wasn’t going to make her feel better. She wanted him as her boyfriend, not her bodyguard – despite Jason being more than happy to be both for her.

“I know,” Y/N confirmed with a shy smile.

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

Whatcha think?

[ncssian]

A Favor: Part Fourteen

Nessian Modern AU

Masterlist

a/n: my quickest AND longest update to date?? who am i??

merry christmas for real this time. thank you sm for reading i never voice my appreciation for yall but it’s there i swear

tw: abuse mention

***

Cassian’s plan to grab his stuff and get the hell back home is intercepted by Feyre, who pulls him aside and proceeds to spill everything about her fight with Nesta to him.

His heart hurts for Feyre—he of all people knows what it’s like to feel unwanted by your biological family. But what did she really think would happen? Their entire friend group is about placing chosen bonds over blood bonds. Feyre can’t be that offended if Nesta prefers the company of her friends over her little sisters. And trying to talk to Nesta about her therapy? Jesus.

But Cassian has a feeling it’ll take both Feyre and Elain a long spelling out of things before they can begin to understand Nesta the way he does, and he doesn’t have time for that right now. He’s too distracted to even provide the comfort Feyre came to him for.

Somehow, he makes up an excuse and detaches himself from the conversation, leaving to find his coat and keys. Azriel spies him on the way to the door and gives him a look.

“Not a fucking word,” Cassian growls as he passes. Everyone else is engrossed in a game of poker and getting progressively more drunk. Feyre now sits on Rhys’s lap, once again content. Azriel only smirks but shakes his head, letting Cassian slip out of the penthouse unnoticed.

He takes the long way home, needing the night air and flashing headlights to clear his head. Once he gets off the freeway leading to town, though, he picks up his phone and calls Nesta.

She doesn’t pick up.

On the fourth call that goes unanswered, Cassian gives up. Fine. She doesn’t want to talk to him tonight. But still he finds himself driving past her neighborhood, once, twice, as if he’s listless without being able to talk to her. He has too many feelings he needs to get off his chest, and she’s the first person he always goes to for those things.

Try to consider her feelings.

It’s that thought that forces him to turn around and drive back to the cabin. They’ll both feel better in the morning, anyway. He can find her and talk as soon as the day starts.

It’s past midnight when he finally pulls up to the driveway, and still he’s disappointed to not see Nesta’s car there. Still he’s disappointed to enter an empty cabin.

The Christmas tree they decorated together sits unlit in the corner of the living room, their presents untouched under the fir leaves. Without turning the lights on, Cassian trudges upstairs and heads straight to bed.

Any sleep he finds is short and restless. His eyes shut sometime around three in the morning, and when they next open, early dawn light is streaming in through the windows. Snow flurries gently against the glass.

Giving up on the prospect of genuine rest, Cassian accepts that he’ll have to seek out Nesta with dark circles and a half-functioning brain today.

He already has a list in his mind as he heads downstairs: get coffee and breakfast for Nesta, get dressed, be at her door by the time she wakes at nine.

Then he reaches the foot of the stairs, and realizes none of that is necessary.

Straight out of his dreams, Nesta is sitting cross-legged on the ground before the coffee table, inspecting a puzzle piece in the cutest sweater he’s ever seen.

Cassian freezes with his hand on the banister, wondering if he’s still asleep. He watches her bite her lip intently, trying to fit the puzzle piece into a corner of the puzzle. It doesn’t fit.

“Fuck,” she swears softly, tossing the piece aside. Cassian clears his throat.

Nesta’s head shoots up, her focus broken. “You’re awake.”

“You’re in my house,” he says dumbly.

“That’s what the key you gave me is for, isn’t it?”

Hesitantly, like he’s approaching a wounded bear, Cassian walks farther into the living room. “Are you—I mean, are we…?”

“Use your words, baby.”

He breathes a sigh of relief. She doesn’t seem upset. There’s so much he wants to ask her: did she sleep well? Where did she get her Christmas sweater from, and does it mean she’s secretly been a fan of Christmas all along? Does she want hot chocolate or coffee with her breakfast?

“How was your night?” he settles on. He moves to sit across from her at the coffee table.

“Find where this goes,” Nesta demands, handing him a new puzzle piece and pointing to their nearly finished puzzle.

Cassian obeys, and Nesta talks while he works. “I was pretty pissed when I got home last night,” she says. “I wanted to tell you all about this stupid fight I had with my boyfriend, and how I knew he was right but I was still furious at him, until I remembered that you were my boyfriend, and I didn’t want to see you.”

Cassian pretends to focus on the puzzle, letting Nesta get her words out.

“So Gwyn called to say thank you for her present—you were right, by the way, she loves it—and then we ended up talking the whole night, and I told her everything about my sisters and,” she waves a hand, “the other shit.

“And at one point I realized that I was telling her the stuff I needed to be telling you. So I came here as soon as I hung up with Gwyn.”

Cassian looks up. “When was that?”

Nesta shrugs. “Five in the morning?”

“Nesta,” he scolds. “You’ll fuck up your sleep cycle.”

“Will you let me get to my point, damn it?”

Cassian shuts up and sits back.

Nesta is staring down at the puzzle, fiddling with her fingernails. Carefully selecting her next words like an attorney would. “I wanted to apologize for—the things I said last night. I was projecting my insecurities onto you, and I’m sure you already know it, but that doesn’t make it okay.” She looks up, face serious. “My sisters and I bring out the worst in each other. We always have. But I let that affect how I treated you when you had nothing to do with it.”

“But you were right.” Cassian can’t stay quiet anymore. “I mean, a lot of what you said was wrong, but at the heart of your point you were right.” It took Cassian all night to sift through what Nesta had said, to separate the truth from the meaningless words of hurt. He finally sees it now.

“I should have watched out for you last night, even if I couldn’t claim you as my girlfriend. I know how you are in new environments with new people and I left you to the wolves.” The wolves are his most trusted friends, sure, but they aren’t Nesta’s. And he was an idiot to forget it.

Nesta fixes another puzzle piece into place, and for the first time this morning, true regret passes over her face. “I didn’t enjoy hurting you. I hated every second of it while I was doing it. So as long as you know I didn’t mean any of it, I’ll be fine.”

We were good distractions for each other in your lonely little cabin, but deep down you know we wouldn’t last a day in the real world.

You were sad and desperate for acknowledgement when we first met, and you’re the same way now.

Cassian nods once. “I know,” he says softly. “You could never lie to me.” Even if some of her words had struck a little truer than they should have. Cassian realizes bitterly it’s because her insecurities are the same as his.

“So are you going to tell me about what the real problem was yesterday?” He dares to broach the elephant in the room.

Nesta stiffens, refocusing on the puzzle to avoid his gaze. “I already told you,” she says. “My sisters and I bring out the worst in each other.”

“There’s more to it than that, though.” When Nesta doesn’t respond, he adds, “Feyre told me her side of the story. It probably wasn’t all of it, but if it makes you feel better, I agreed with you.”

Nesta snorts derisively. “She was being unreasonable, but I made it worse. You know that, don’t you?” She raises a brow. “You know how I am.”

Cassian remembers their screaming match from the time he tried to get her a doctor’s appointment, and oddly enough, smiles. “I know you hate it,” he says, “and I know it’s frustrating as hell, but people stop taking your arguments seriously when you start flinging insults. It probably isn’t fair, but you’ve been in a courtroom. You know how it works.”

Nesta grimaces. “Believe me, the future lawyer in me is not proud of how I held up in last night’s fight.”

“Right there.” Cassian slides a section of green pieces over to himself and fits them into place, completing the rolling hills of the landscape scene. There’s only a handful of pieces left, all in the sky area. He waits for Nesta to be ready to speak.

After several moments of working in silence, she says, “My sisters have never really accepted me the way I am. I used to think Elain did back when we were kids, but then I stopped prioritizing her and she stopped understanding.”

Cassian knows Elain is pissed that her once-closest sister no longer cares to talk to her. But what he wants to know is why Nesta stopped answering her calls. Why she pulled away and went into isolation, and wouldn’t come out for anyone until a few short months ago.

Nesta clears her throat. “I was not a well-adjusted kid. I’m not a well-adjusted adult, either, but—I was even worse in my youth. I had a deadbeat dad, who I hated while my sisters adored him. I hated the life we had to live because of him, and I let that hate seep everywhere. Into everything and everyone else.” She blows out a breath and shakes her head. “There was no place closer to hell than that fucking one-bedroom apartment. I hated the person I was in that place—like I had no control over my emotions, my tantrums, my entire self. I was stuck in this childlike state of rage and I couldn’t move on, couldn’t grow up.

“No one could figure out what was wrong with me, so I had to take care of my issues myself. I read more books, I went out more often, I always had headphones in—I learned how to escape. I learned how to limit the destruction. Once I did that, I could care for Elain more openly. I could have civil conversations with Feyre, too. That’s where we went wrong, I think. I gave Feyre hope that I could be a better person, and once she latched onto it, she refused to let go.” Nesta picks at the sleeves of her knit sweater. “She never understood that I was cold and removed just because I was. She always had this belief that deep down, I secretly had a heart of gold and a shit ton of love to give. I never bothered telling her she was wrong, so her expectations of me grew. And so did Elain’s. And then I graduated high school.” She shrugs.

Cassian frowns. “That’s when you left your family and moved here?”

She nods. “The distance helped. For a short time, I thought I was free. No responsibilities or people to answer to. But then I met Tomas—my ex—and Feyre and Elain followed me to Colorado not long after my dad died. And even then I stayed optimistic, because most people would be lucky to have their sisters and boyfriend all in the same place. I thought I could finally have all the relationships a normal person my age was supposed to have if I just put in the effort.” She meets Cassian’s eyes. “I never told you much about Tomas, did I?”

His stomach sinks, but he shakes his head.

“It was not a fun first love. But the only reason I didn’t tell you about it earlier was because I didn’t know how to describe it myself.” She rubs her palms down her thighs, but it isn’t enough to hide their tremble.

“I know what to call it now,” Nesta says. “It was abusive.”

Cassian says nothing. He can’t. But his hands curl into hard fists under the coffee table.

“Lana made me work up to using that word.” She rolls her eyes, like the whole thing annoys and embarrasses her. “He was abusive: physically, verbally, emotionally. I’m not going to go into the details or anything, but it’s what was happening to me during those college years that my sisters needed me to be there for them.”

Cassian would never in a thousand years ask Nesta for information she isn’t ready to give, but in that moment he’s overwhelmed with the need to know everything—every little thing that’s ever been done to her, so he can draw up a list and exact calculated revenge for all of it. His voice is rough against the lump in his throat, out of fury or despair he doesn’t know. “Nesta…”

“I promise I’m almost done.” She holds up a hand.

Take your time. Tell me everything.

“This isn’t about him,” Nesta says. “This is about my sisters. Because even if I hadn’t been stupid enough to let that man waste almost four years of my life, I would have ended up in the same place with Feyre and Elain. They’d still be disappointed when they realized I couldn’t be what they wanted me to be.” She wraps her arms around herself in a hug, and Cassian wishes he’d sat beside her so those could be his arms.

She shakes her head. “I did my best so I wouldn’t be cooped up with them, wouldn’t be lashing out at them… and it still wasn’t enough. They wanted me to be nice, friendly, talkative. So I tried doing that too, even though I hated it. But around the same time things with Tomas started to get unbearable, Feyre found Rhysand and you guys. So now I had to hang out with my sister while she had a group of strangers constantly surrounding her, and go back home to a man who hated me at the end of the day.” She looks up at Cassian then, and her blue-gray gaze hits him with the force of a truck. “As soon as Feyre moved away to Velaris, I saw my way out. I finally broke up with Tomas. I gave up on all my relationships and I let go, and I don’t care if you or anyone else thinks it’s pathetic, or the bare minimum. It’s all I had to give.”

Cassian swallows roughly, unable to find his words. “It’s not pathetic, Nesta,” he finally says. “There’s nothing pathetic about doing what doesn’t come easily to you.”

There’s a million other things he needs to say to her, to make sure that she knows she isn’t stupid, or embarrassing, or not enough. But it all floats right out of his head when she heaves a big, dramatic sigh, as if a great weight has been lifted off her chest. As if Cassian’s measly words were all she needed to hear to feel alright.

She snatches up the final remaining puzzle piece and clicks it into place. “And we’re done,” she declares.

Cassian looks down at the table between them, which is now fully lit by the beaming morning sun outside. His eyes land on an empty space near the corner of the landscape, and his face falls. “There’s a piece missing,” he says.

“No way, where?” Nesta leans closer.

Cassian is already on his hands and knees, checking under and around the table for the missing piece.

“This is all your fault,” Nesta is saying above him. “You bumped into the table that time we were making out and all those pieces went flying.”

“Well, how fucking far could it have gone? Help me find it.” He’s serious now, searching the floor with intent. They can’t leave the puzzle unfinished. It was the only thing he could find in his garage all those months ago that could distract Nesta from anticipating her MRI results. And after the diagnosis, it had been a way to lift her mood, to give the two of them an excuse to spend every evening together—

“Sweetheart, it’s just a puzzle.”

Cassian sits up straight at that. “Just a puzzle?” He narrows his eyes at her.

“Well, it’s either that or an overextended metaphor for our relationship—are you crying?”

“No.” He blinks quickly. If there’s wetness there, he doesn’t know how Nesta glimpsed it.

He’s had a hard twelve hours. Nesta even more so. “I just feel really bad, about last night and everything else.” Because even if she acts like what she just spilled to him isn’t a big deal, he’ll never forget it.

He looks up to find Nesta laughing. Hand-over-her-mouth cackling. Before he can ask what’s wrong with her, she’s climbing up onto the coffee table, breaking up the puzzle and sending pieces scattering as she crawls across it. “Nesta—” he starts to protest.

She drops into his lap, winding her arms and legs around his powerful body. And she leans in and kisses him, long and deep and sweet. His hands settle into the curve of her hips, where they’ve always fit perfectly.

She breaks the kiss to fit her palm to his cheek. “I’m sorry,” she says. She never says that. “I didn’t mean to make you upset.” Her lips quirk up teasingly, but real guilt from the night before lingers in her eyes. Cassian realizes in that moment that Nesta could never hurt anybody more than she hurts herself.

“Don’t waste your apologies on me.” He nudges her nose with his. “Save them for people who’ll actually need to hear them.”

A real smile starts to bloom on her face. “I’ll try.”

Pride and love take his breath away, but he manages to say, “Thank you. For sharing so much of yourself with me.”

She makes an embarrassed noise and waves him off, but emotion shines in her eyes. Just to spare her, Cassian changes the subject. “Now what in the world are you wearing?”

She glances down at herself, frowning. “You don’t like it?”

“I love it.” The sweater looks hand knit, bright red with a green Christmas tree in the center. Balls of colorful fuzz decorate the tree as ornaments. “I want you to wear it every day,” he says.

“Over my dead body. I’d rather you help me take it off.”

Nesta’s hips feel especially snug against his as heat rushes to his crotch. She smirks like she caught him on a hook and leans in to whisper, “You look tired. Did you stay up thinking about my dress last night?”

Cassian swallows roughly. It might have crossed his mind a few times—not just the dress, but the fact that she had picked it out for him. He didn’t know that Nesta cared about things like that.

She rubs a thumb under his weary and reddened eyes. “After your anger faded, did you think about all the make-up sex we were going to have? Because I did.”

“Nesta,” he groans, dropping his head to rest against her chest. Either she plays him too well or he’s too easy to play, because Cassian is half a second away from damning everything to hell and dragging her to the living room carpet.

Until Nesta’s stomach growls loudly.

That’s when he remembers: it’s Christmas morning, he’s with the love of his life, and they’re both starving and sleep-deprived.

He looks up to find her eyes screwed shut in frustration. Before she can protest, he warns, “Don’t even think about it.” He pats her thighs. “Let’s get some food in you.”

***

Cassian makes them chocolate chip pancakes, and Nesta, feeling clingier than usual today, hangs piggyback off his body the entire time he cooks. She hasn’t slept in almost twenty-four hours, yet she feels like she was born anew this morning.

In the middle of breakfast, Cassian’s phone vibrates. He hardly even glances at it before turning it over.

“Who was it?” Nesta asks through a mouthful of pancakes. She hasn’t asked him about how his own night went, but she expects that his friends will want to call and talk to him at some point today.

“Feyre,” he says without looking at her. “She asked where I went last night.”

“Why’re you ignoring her?” She raises a brow.

Cassian looks a little surprised. “I thought we were mad at her.”

“No.” Nesta sets her fork down. “I’m mad at her. What’s your excuse?”

He shrugs. “Solidarity. I’m mad that you had your Christmas Eve ruined. I know what it took you just to show up there.”

“You’re the only one that knows.” Nesta supposes that not everything has been cleared up with Cassian after all. “Listen,” she tries to soften her blunt tone. “Whatever is between me and my sisters… you don’t need to concern yourself with it. You’ll never have to choose sides between us.”

He watches her closely, carefully. “Even if I want to defend my girlfriend?”

Her stomach flutters at that inconsequential word, but she doesn’t show it. “Even then. Feyre looks at you like an older brother. I’m sure Elain does too, a little bit. Don’t let me get in the way of that.” He probably feels guilty every time he texts Feyre, the loyal bastard.

Cassian looks at his plate, then nods resolutely. “I can do that.” He adds a moment later, “For what it’s worth, I do get where the girls are coming from. Even if they had a shit way of going about it.” His eyes darken as he remembers.

Nesta doesn’t know what he was told about the fight, but she chuckles at his moody face anyway. “I expected you to. You’ve always loved spending time with your family, and you’ve never known anything different. But the reality is this: the closeness you have between you and your brothers isn’t something that can be forced onto every group of siblings. And the more Feyre and Elain try to force it, the more I push against it.”

“It sounds stifling.” His face is open, understanding. “To feel like you’re always too much but never enough.”

Nesta pauses, stunned. Cassian is almost too empathetic sometimes, like he carries a thousand past lives within him. Maybe he spent his time learning Nesta by heart in those lives.

Or maybe she’s getting too damn sentimental. She chokes out a dismissive laugh, going back to her pancakes. “Just text Feyre back. Then we can have the rest of the day to ourselves.”

***

Late morning brings heavy snowfall and a chill that infiltrates the walls of the cabin. The Christmas tree in the living room is lit—something Cassian didn’t notice earlier when he came downstairs to find Nesta in his house. Realizing that she’s the one who lit it up first thing in the morning does something to his chest, but he pushes the feeling down where it can’t scare Nesta away.

The weight of the past day must finally catch up to her, though, because by the time Cassian finishes lighting the fireplace, she’s knocked out asleep on the couch.

“No makeup sex then, Nes?” he says softly. Getting up from the hearth, he goes to pull the fur couch throw over her body. Cassian settles at the end of the couch near her feet, taking care so she doesn’t wake, and picks up his laptop from the coffee table. He’s been slacking with his work ever since he got with Nesta, and he might as well catch up on it now before Rhysand takes notice.

The first email that pops up in his inbox is a corporate reminder about the annual New Year’s Eve fundraiser gala, hosted in some high-class hotel in Denver this year. Cassian reads the email once, twice, three times before reaching for his phone.

Rhys answers on the first ring. “Oh, so you don’t hate us,” he drawls.

“What?” Cassian is confused.

“Because with the way you’ve been acting at family events lately, one would have reason to think you don’t want to be around your family much.”

“Oh—no, this isn’t about that.” Cassian refuses to let Rhys linger on this topic. “I called about the New Year’s party.”

“What about it?” he says. “Other than that tacky hotel.”

Cassian decides to spit it out. “I’m not coming.”

Rhys is stunned silent over the line for a moment. “What do you mean, you’re not coming?” Cassian never misses company events, no matter how much he hates dressing up and driving out to the city to schmooze with donors.

But too many of his holidays have gone to Rhys instead of Nesta this year, and he finds himself unwilling to give more.

“I’ve been stressed as hell lately,” he lies, trying to stay quiet for Nesta. “I’m always the one driving hours to see everyone else, and I can’t go all the way out to Denver for another party. I’m sorry.”

“Bullshit,” Rhys responds. “You have nothing going on at work and nothing going on outside of it. What could you be stressed about?”

Cassian makes a mental note to find a hobby that doesn’t include his brothers, if only so he can use it as an excuse to spend time with his secret girlfriend in the future. For now, he has to settle with the truth. “I can’t tell you.”

It’s a petty card to play, but it’s a valid one. No matter how nosy his family might be, they know how to back off when a line is drawn, no explanation required.

Rhys’s voice softens. “Is it serious? Is it a health issue?”

Cassian nearly laughs, even though he feels bad for making Rhys worry. “No, nothing like that. But I still can’t come.”

“What can I do to make it easier for you?” Rhys tries again. “New Year’s isn’t the same without all of my family in one place.”

Cassian snorts. “Come over to my place then.” He says it half-jokingly, but then Rhys doesn’t answer, as if he’s thinking.

“The gala guest list is too big to fit in the cabin…” he ponders. “But I guess I could have it narrowed down at the last minute. The Mayfairs certainly won’t be happy about it, though.”

Cassian’s eyes widen, and he looks over at Nesta’s sleeping form. “Uh…” He scrambles for something to get him out of this.

“New Year’s at a luxury cabin, all of us reuniting at your home for the first time in months? I love it,” Rhys declares. “Better than fucking Denver, that’s for sure.”

Cassian coughs, then covers it up with a forced chuckle. “I’ll have the place ready by next week.”

The call is over before he knows it, and all he can do is stare at the phone in his hand wondering what the hell just happened.

You didn’t entirely lose, he thinks to himself. You’re spending New Year’s with Nesta.

Yeah—New Year’s with Nesta and his entire family. He drops his head back against the couch and groans quietly.

***

Nesta wakes up late in the afternoon to Cassian presenting her with a mug of eggnog and bad news about New Year’s Eve.

The idea of another party, especially one with her sisters present, so soon after the last one makes Nesta’s very bones ache. But she supposes she’ll just have to take the next week to recover and prepare, because she isn’t missing out on a holiday with Cassian for anything.

The way she’s started romanticizing simple things like the new year should probably alarm her, but it doesn’t.

They sit down to open presents with the TV playing lowly in the background. It’s nothing serious, and Nesta isn’t expecting to get anything much until she unwraps her present.

It’s a vinyl record packaged in an elaborate sleeve with the words Nesta’s Mix etched across it. She slowly pulls the record out of the sleeve, staring at it. “What’s this?”

“It’s called a vinyl.”

She spears him with a look. “I got that. What’s on it?”

Cassian turns sheepish, sprawled out across from her on the carpet. “I stalked your Spotify to figure out what you listen to. Then I made a playlist based off what I thought you’d like and got it turned into vinyl. It’s all new music…” He trails off at the look on her face. “But if you hate it, the B-side has your favorite songs on there. You can listen to it either way.”

“I don’t hate it.” Nesta blinks her burning eyes rapidly, staring down at the gift in her hands. She’s not used to receiving thoughtful gifts—or pricey ones. “Thank you,” she says plainly, trying to let her feelings speak for themselves in those two words. “I love it.” She knows she should be saying more, damn it, but what can she say?

Cassian reaches out to put a hand on her knee, his thumb stroking circles across her leg. She looks up at him and realizes she doesn’t need words. Leaning forward, she lands a kiss on his cheek and can only hope that it’s sufficient. “Where am I going to play it?” she asks.

“I was close to getting you a record player when I remembered I already have one. I’ve never used it in my life.” He looks at her more gently now. “So it’s basically yours.”

Nesta’s chest tightens painfully. Not because he’s giving the record player to her, but because he’s suggesting they own it together.

“My present is going to look so stupid next to yours,” she says quietly.

Cassian grins. “Now I really need to see it.”

Nesta buries her head in her hands in humiliation while he tears open the wrapping paper of his gift, and only looks up when she hears him laugh aloud.

He’s holding a copy of one of Nesta’s favorite romances, and the first of many of her books that he’s ever stolen from her and read. He turns the vintage paperback around in his hands. “I remember this one. I totally had a sex dream about it.” He gazes in reminiscence at the busty blonde on the cover.

Nesta snorts, but scoots closer to him eagerly. “Look inside.”

He flips it open to find dark scribbles along the margins, in every single margin.

“I annotated it,” Nesta says hesitantly. “With my thoughts and analysis on each scene. It’s probably dumb to critically analyze a ninetie’s erotica novel, but I thought you’d find it funny.”

Cassian is flipping through the pages more slowly now, taking his time to read each one. “I don’t think it’s funny,” he says after a moment, his eyes still on the book. “I think it’s more than anything I could have asked for.”

“Well, that’s a bit dramatic for a romance book—”

“Not the book.” He looks up at her with something in his eyes. “It’s all your thoughts.” He looks back at the book in wonder. “Written out for me in detail to keep.”

He starts to smirk, searching for a specific page. “I already know how you feel about the boat scene, but now I need to read about it.”

Nesta makes a noise of protest, grabbing for the book. “Don’t spoil the good parts yet.” She can hardly believe it. He finds her joke present good. “You always spoil the good parts first and get sad about it later.”

He makes a face. “True.” He lowers the book, growing serious. “Nesta.” He clears his throat, and her heart starts pounding. She can hear the words before he says them—

“You’re a really good gift giver.”

Nesta’s breath shudders out of her, in relief or disappointment she doesn’t know. Cassian is still staring at her in amazement, and she can only respond by throwing herself at him, her arms holding him tight.

He doesn’t falter under her weight, but pulls her closer. “Thank you,” he says into her ear.

She pulls back far enough to see him. His beautiful face is outlined with too many emotions for her to read, yet somehow she knows exactly what he’s feeling.

Overwhelmed, she leans in to place a soft kiss above his upper lip, then on his mouth. “Merry Christmas,” she whispers against his lips.

“Merry Christmas, Nesta.”

***

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[diaryofabeautyfiend]

This is two parts because I got carried away. I wrote this on my phone and proof read as much as I could.

Warnings: cheating, male masturbation, m/f sex, minor spoilers for “Defending Jacob”.

——————————————————————————————

Plain Gold Ring

“Plain gold ring on his finger he wore

It was where everyone could see

He belonged to someone, but not me

On his hand was a plain gold ring”

-Nina Simone

When the Barbers moved to your building every old bitty in the place was buzzing with excitement. You had loosely followed Jacob Barber’s case as it played out on the evening news. The whole thing was bizarrely too neat and tidy for your liking. You tried to stay out of idle gossip as much as possible. But, when you heard Andy Barber was interviewing for a senior position at your firm, you had questions.

Andy was brought in to interview for a position that you were also interested in. You requested a meeting with your boss and you went in guns blazing. Your poor boss was not ready for all the excitement.

“Am I still being considered for junior partner?”

“Y/n, calm down.” When he saw you winding yourself up, he popped an antacid an a few ibuprofen.

“Calm down? Calm down he says. I’ve been with this firm since I clerked for you in Law school, Stan. I’m the best fit for this role and you know it.”

“I know you are, kid. I’ve been out voted.”

It’s common knowledge that the partners don’t want too many women gunning for their jobs. They already have one token female partner. They didn’t feel the need to add another. You were infuriated. You stomped back to your office and slammed the door.

All of the work you put in. All of the late nights. You don’t have time to even date. And all for what? You had to calm down now because you were starting to cry out of sheer frustration. You took a deep breath and started going through your to do list. With a relatively light schedule you decided to leave for the day. You mumbled something to your assistant about a doctors appointment and headed for the elevator.

You saw some of the senior partners headed your way shaking hands with Andy. You pressed the elevator button furiously trying to avoid them. Could you make it down seventeen flights of stairs in your stilettos? The elevator dinged and you jumped on just as Robert called your name.

As soon as you put your car in gear, your assistant called. You sent her to voicemail. She called again. Declined. Finally she texted call me back ASAP. Emergency. Fuck.

“Caitlan I said I had an appointment. What’s the emergency?”

“Sorry. Mr. Cramer insisted I call. He’s standing by my desk” she whispered. “They want you to have lunch with them today. Maybe it’s about the job.”

“Did you see guy shaking hands with them? That’s the new junior partner. They are asking me to lunch to reject me. Fuck! Where?” You rested your head against the steering wheel.

“Commander’s at 1:00.”

“Fine.” you groaned.

You went home to freshen up and send out your updated resume. You made sure to include “Willing to relocate” at the end to broaden your prospects. You had a friend in Chicago who worked for a very high profile firm. They were always looking for new blood. You shot her a text to let her know you were looking then emailed your resume. The prospect of starting over completely made you nauseous. You would have to go through the ranks and probably waist another five years to get exactly where you were right now.

When you arrived at the restaurant the maître d brought you to the table where Stan, several other senior partners and Andy were waiting. Andy stood up to pull out your chair.

“Gentleman. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“Sit down, Y/N. We wanted to introduce you to Andrew Barber.”

“Andy. Please call me Andy. It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N. These guys haven’t stopped talking about you all morning.”

“All good things I hope.” The men laughed and ordered a round of martinis. Good thing you ate a big lunch at home. No one likes a sloppy drunk girl.

“Yes. Well, Y/N, as you may not know Andy has accepted the junior partner position. We would love if you brought him up to speed on anything you’re working on and show him the ropes.”

You were seething. “Of course Mr. Cramer. Happy to.”

“Oh. Good. Let’s order huh? I’m starving.”

You were silent for the rest of lunch ordering two more martinis very dry and a salad. Dressing on the side of course. The men spoke loudly and never even tried to include you in the conversation. You excused yourself to use the restroom. Andy, ever the gentleman, stood up at the same time.

You didn’t go back. Not that it would have mattered. You ordered an Uber and checked your email. You didn’t notice Andy at the valet stand.

“I’m headed back to the office. Need a ride?” he called to you.

“No. I’m good. Thanks though.”

“Are you sure? I don’t mind.” He watched you pace back and forth reading a message almost out loud.

You didn’t look up from your phone. “Shit.” You scowled looking at the screen. You dialed Caitlan’s extension. “Caitlan, Sloan Treadaway’s deposition was moved to today. I need it pushed to Monday.”

“Oh. I’m sorry. I figured you would be coming back so I told them it was ok to push it up. I can call them back.”

“No. Don’t bother. I’m on my way back.”

“Looks like you can use a ride after all.” Andy was grinning from ear to ear.

He held the door and rushed around to the other side. You pulled a small bag out of your purse. You freshened your hair, popped some breath mints, lotioned and spritzed away the smell of booze. Andy thought this must be commonplace for you. It’s not easy trying to run with the guys. He could walk into this deposition piss drunk and most people wouldn’t care. You had to be perfect. He always hated that aspect of working in a big firm like this.

“Sorry. I’ll pay to have your car cleaned.” It smelled like you now. Expensive perfume and minty breath. Sweet but not sickly so. He inhaled letting his nostrils flair breathing you in. “Don’t want your wife to be pissed.”

“Lori? Don’t worry about her. She’ll understand.”

“How is she doing with her job search?”

“Doing ok. Thanks for asking. She’s interviewed with a few places.”

“She worked for a non profit right?” When he looked at you quizzically, you quickly explained yourself. “I hear things. Anyway. I know the director of a non profit organization that might be a great fit for her. I’ll pass along her information.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it. Stan told me you were the front runner for this position. I know how hard it is for women in this industry. I want to say how sorry I am…”

“Let me stop you there. First of all, don’t be sorry. You’re high profile and a damn good litigator. They would be stupid not to offer you the moon. You’re over qualified for this job. You didn’t come here gunning for me. I’ll be fine. Besides, a few of these old bags have one foot in the grave. It won’t be long for me.”

Andy smiled at you but still kind of felt like shit at the way the firm treated you. When you pulled into the garage you offered a quick thanks and rushed into the building to prepare.

Andy stayed behind for a bit. He spent a few precious moments breathing in your scent, letting it linger and wash over him. He hoped his clothes would smell a little like you. Stan said you were a “fire cracker”. Andy always hated that analogy. He knew by the way the group of men talked about you that he would like you. Your quick banter in the car confirmed it. Throughout the rest of the day you would invade his thoughts. He and Lori were still married but their relationship was long over. You had excited him more in a couple of hours than she had in years. When he got home he didn’t eat dinner or speak to anyone. He went right to his room where he replayed your exchange over and over. The ghost of your perfume lingered on his shirt. Both of your scents mixed together gave him a raging hard on. He kept your shirt over his face while he fisted his cock.

——————————————————————

The next morning you decided to face the day with a fresher attitude. Sometime yesterday you heard from your friend. She was thrilled that you reached out to her. She has been trying to get you out there for a while. Knowing that you had a solid backup plan was giving your hair volume and clearing your skin.

You thought you were early but Andy was already in your office waiting for you.

“Morning, Mr. Barber.” God he loved how you said that.

He scoffed, “Andy. Please. I brought you a coffee. I hope it’s ok. I got your order from Caitlan. I thought we’d order in lunch today. We have a lot of ground to cover. You should probably let your family know you’ll be missing dinner.”

“I don’t think my dead ficus will worry too much.” Your tone was dry.

“I apologize for the assumption.”

“Not necessary. Though my mother and my therapist would both be pleased to know that I look like someone who could have a family.”

You were funny. You seemed to say whatever thought popped into your head. You had one hell of a poker face though. He didn’t know if you were trying to be funny or if this was just you. When you didn’t look up from your computer screen he didn’t laugh.

As the day wore on you warmed up to him a little. You filled him in on the three big cases you were working on. You were actually going to trial on a very important case soon. He insisted you rehearse your opening statement a hundred times.

During the third run through Andy’s phone was blowing up. He finally turned it off and told you to keep going. He watched you pace around the room and coached you on your stance. “Stand with authority not arrogance.” He chided. He showed you himself then, asked if he could touch your shoulders. “Round them out like this. Good. Back straight. See?” he pointed to your reflection in the window, “It’s not menacing or arrogant. But you look like you’re in charge. You look perfect.” Hell. Was he flirting with you? By the time you looked at the clock it was 9:30.

“Fuck is that the time?” he said with a boisterous yawn.

“Shit. We should pick this up tomorrow.”

“Let’s go get a drink. I’m buying.”

You quirked your eyebrow, “I’m sure your wife and kiddo are dying to see you.”

He stacked some folders neatly on your desk and looked up at you through his lashes, “I’ll be sure to tell my therapist that I look like a guy who has a happy marriage and a good relationship with his kid.”

Your cheeks heated. The way he was looking at you made you sad but it also warmed your insides. “I’m sorry.” you mumbled.

“Don’t worry about it. We said we would stay together until Jacob went away to school. He pretends to ignore the fact that we have separate bedrooms. We put on happy faces everyday. We’re a typical American family.”

You laughed at his admission. His whole story was so fucked up. You wanted to know everything about him. “You know, I think I will let you buy me a drink.”

“Good girl.” he said in a low voice that went strait to your core. The whole way to the car you repeated a mantra in your head reminding you not to get involved with a married man. It didn’t matter how unhappy they were. But you wanted him. Every time he touched you, your insides would quake.

The bar was packed with regulars from the DA’s office and other firms. You introduced Andy around. The guy was a legitimate pro. He was so smooth working the room. The whole time he kept finding small ways to touch you. The brush of his fingers on your arm his breath against your ear when he asked if wanted another drink. Your heart nearly stopped. You stuck with him for a while until your feet couldn’t stand anymore. Every time he caught your eye from across the room he winked at you.

For the first time in a long time Andy was enjoying himself. Your friends were fun and not at all stuffy like he thought this crowd would be. You were adorable. Your laugh was cute. The way you brushed against him on purpose was cute. You were openly flirting with him the more you drank. He had a massive crush on you. What grown man has a crush these days. He thought maybe if he fucked you and got it out of his system he’d get over it.

Your friend Liz sat down at your table trying to talk to you for a solid minute before you noticed. “Sorry. I was distracted. What were you saying?” She threw her head back laughing at you.

“I said you two would make a gorgeous couple.”

“Stop. He’s married.”

“Happily?”

“That doesn’t matter. Married is married.”

“So that’s a no. He’s been eye fucking you all night. Shoot your shot, darling. We get so few in this life.” The light hit his wedding ring just right making you feel horrible for even entertaining the thought. Do not get involved. You kept chanting it in your head over and over until Andy slid in the booth next to you. He leaned over so he could talk over the din of the crowd.

“Hey, you. Wanna get out of here?”

“You don’t need to bring me home, Andy. I can catch an Uber.” That was such a ridiculous statement since you lived in the same building.

“That’s not what I asked. I said do you wanna get out of here?” His eyes were fixed on your mouth. A salacious grin splayed across his lips just knowing you’d give in.

“Andy. I….” You stuttered over your words. Your brain stopped working when you felt his warm breath on the shell of your ear. “Let’s get out of here.” Your breath hitched in your chest when he touched the small of your back. He payed his tab and lead you out of the bar.

You held hands in the car. His thumb rhythmically traced patterns on your knuckles. Every touch sent bolts of arousal to your aching cunt. It felt electric. You were ready to crawl into his lap by the time you made it into the garage. He parked in his spot and followed behind you to the elevator. You lived two floors below him. You glanced back at Lori’s sensible suv next to his car and felt embarrassed. He caught you looking and stopped you in your tracks. He took your chin in between his thumb and index finger forcing you to look at him.

“I understand if you don’t want to invite me in. I’m asking a lot of you. But I really like you, Y/N. You are funny and intimidatingly smart. And, fuck me, you are fucking stunning. I can go to work tomorrow like nothing happened. Don’t worry about Lori. Worry about what this means working together. Can you handle this?”

Your brain was no longer working and deferred to your pussy for any and all further decisions. You had not had even mediocre sex in six months. You just knew Andy was going to blow your mind. All day you have been working together so well. You challenged each other and he encouraged you when you faltered. Would this change the dynamic at work? Absolutely. Could you handle it? You’re damn right you could.

“I can handle it.”

“Good girl.” You all but sprinted to the elevator. He wouldn’t touch you until you actually got inside of your apartment and closed the door. When you did, he pushed against you and covered your lips with his.

You tasted the golden flavor of beer on his tongue as it probed your mouth. He unbuttoned your blouse and pushed it over your shoulders letting it hit the floor. He kissed his way down the column of your neck to the swell of your breasts. You panted underneath him raking your nails through his hair.

“God you smell incredible. At any point if you don’t want this….”

“Andy, shut up and fuck me.” He growled low in his throat before he picked you up and carried you to your bedroom. You could see how hard he was through his impeccably tailored slacks. You unzipped his fly and took the whole throbbing appendage in your mouth.

“Fuck, baby yes.” he hissed. You relaxed your throat muscles and swallowed him deeper. “You look so pretty with my cock in your mouth.” He moaned your name over and over soaking your panties. “Stop, honey. Let me see that pretty pussy.”

He eased you down onto the bed and undressed you painfully slow. It had been so long since he was intimate with someone, he wanted to take his time. He started with your feet removing your heels and massaging your insteps. His hands ran up the length of your legs to your skirt. He took off your panties first letting the skirt material pool around your waist. “So wet for me. So beautiful.” He slipped two fingers in between your folds hitting everywhere but your clit. He built up a tortuous rhythm that had you begging for relief. He smiled down at you watching completely fall apart. When he dipped his fingers inside of you, you were done. Your orgasm spilled out in one glorious cry. Before you could catch your breath he pulled off your skirt and unhooked your bra. His cock was weeping at the sight of you. A large hand held the back of your neck holding your head in place so you could look at him. Your eyes locked as he buried himself inside of you. There were no more words as he moved inside of you. Only breathless moans and sighs would escape your lips. He increased his pace and your orgasm started building again.

“Fuck. Andy, I’m….fuck!”

“I’m with you, honey. Come with me.” His words were your undoing. You latched your whole body onto him. He held you tight whispering praises in your ear. He kissed you slow and deep easing you back down to Earth. “You ok?”

“I think so.” You both laughed at the sight of yourselves. Sweat glistening off of your skin, lips puffy and kiss swollen. He eased off of you and rubbed your thighs to relax you. You thought he would get dressed and rush out but he crawled under the covers instead.

“Can I stay for a while?” Big arms pulled you down to his chest. He stroked your back softly to help you drift off to sleep.

“I’d like it if you did.” He pressed a kiss onto the top of your head and let his eyes flutter closed.

When dawn found you a few hours later, you were still tangled with each other. You jolted awake panicking because Andy was still in your bed. “Andy, wake up. You stayed all night.”

“I know. What time is it?”

“6:45.”

“Then we have time. Go back to sleep.”

“But Lori…”

“I told you not to worry about her. Get back on this pillow and let me hold you. Please.” The poor guy was so touch starved you guessed. Andy Barber was not a man who did well being single. He loved being in love. He longed for a connection. For passion. He knew those things would sometimes fizzle out of a marriage. But, with you, he couldn’t see that. Your fire matched his fire and Lori was the wet blanket that always snuffed him out.

He supposed that wasn’t really fair. Two people were in their marriage. He worked long hours and spent very little time doing anything but being an ADA and being a dad. He didn’t give the same dedication to being Lori’s partner. The stress of this past year pushed them further apart. He felt obligated to be with her. It was his idea to stay together for Jacob’s sake. He regretted pushing for it.

He pulled you close to his body and wrapped an arm around your waist. He nuzzled your hair and fell back to sleep. You did too.

[britishassistant]

@emyluwinter submitted: Hi!!With you again a freelance newspaperman who writes about the reporter Yuu and the Prefect!! I am very glad that you liked my little stories so much that I wrote earlier!!! It's very encouraging that my work is appreciated.

So today will be a small addition to the latest events related to the villainy of Crowley in the form of the kidnapping of Yuu's "family" and friends,and after the final" conversation " of the Prefect with Crowley.

Because of the noise and shouting, opening the room with a spare key, several henchmen cautiously look inside. Yuu had already changed back into civilian clothes and put on extra gloves to hide the knuckles on his hands that had been cut from the blows. - Um....chief, how are you? Yuu takes a deep breath. - Your boss should call a doctor. - So we were talking about you, micro-chief, - one of the minions adds, almost in a whisper. - Huh?Why am I a micro-chef? - Yuu looked at them in confusion. - Well...it's like you've just "talked" to the leader of one of the most powerful villains in the League of Villains.. - Plus your uncle, Mr. Cruel. - Your' family ' and friends are all right. We're not crazy enough to hurt them. - I don't really want to have a walrus's heel sewn on my forehead, - one of the henchmen added ruefully. Yuu couldn't believe it. - Are they really all right? - That's right, micro-chief! But please leave before Mr. Cruel breaks us down into test tubes. We want to live. - And I have a cat at home, how can I be without it. So we'll show you to the exit. Yuu chuckles uncomfortably.It was the first time he had felt so strange. Perhaps it was a mixture of shock, fear, and despair, laced with anger and rage. But for a second, he felt all the power that Crowley held in his hands. But now all this was not necessary, only his loved ones were important.

- Thank you..no, really, I'm grateful that they're safe and sound. - Yuu felt that all these minions were no different from civilians, and they just worked wherever they wanted. And now they are worried about the fact that their superiors have made a lot of mistakes. - Your cameraman friend is a great word player! - I lost three rounds in a row to him. Minions distract Yuu with simple and cute conversations. Some of them showed their pets. Yuu was even asked to sign an autograph as their favorite reporter. They were very moved by their understanding. Although for the most part, they behaved so as not to run into even more trouble. ***

TWST Anita hugged her baby tightly. - Oh Yuu, I was worried if you were okay. - Sorry, Mom - Yuu could barely hold on, they were terribly tired for this day and the last thing they wanted to do was go back to the kidnappings and villainies. TWST Roger patted their hair affectionately. - We were tied up just for show. The rest of the time off-camera, we sat on their couch. - He won four games of cards with the guards,- Anita added, chuckling softly. - Well, they're not stupid enough to harm us.- Roger chuckled. Yuu was just glad that they were all right. Yuuken held Grimm in his arms while standing next to them. - You held out well. - I should have burned all his feathers! - Grimm snorted. - And you cheated, Yuuken! You've made up more than half the words! - No, I didn't cheat, the guards told you the words. Yuu took a deep breath, the growing panic attack quickly passed in his parents ' arms and listening to Yuuken and Grimm. Uncle Divus arrived just a few minutes before the lair to make sure they were all right. None of the minions or minions were even willing to leave shadows in his path. "I sincerely apologize, Anita, that that idiot with the feathers would do something like that. Divus said guiltily, looking at his sister. - Don't take Divvy personally, I know that neither you nor Yuu will let us offend anyone. Everything ended well. - Anita said gently. Cruel relaxed a little at the realization that there was nothing wrong with the people close to him. Looking at the tired Yuu,Kruel just silently hugged him and hugged him very tightly. - You did very well, Yuu. I'm proud of you. - Thank you, Uncle Divvy...I think this time it's over once and for all. -I heard from the guards that Prefect beat him to the intensive care unit, but I don't know how he managed to get in. Yuu chuckled mirthlessly - yes, Prefect helped me out when it was most needed. Ah...I saw him get through the vent or something. Roger swore softly. - Damn it, I wanted to get his autograph! - Roger!Why do you need an autograph? - Little kitty King even has one, I also want an autograph!

Grimm uneasily climbs onto Yuu's shoulders and rubs his head against Yuu's cheek. He watched Yuu more closely than anyone else and saw the state they were in. - Hey .. Yuu. - Yes, Grimm? - Let you take a vacation, your hands are shaking like you're not letting go of a jackhammer. - Grimm glared at Yuu. - I absolutely agree with him, Yuu. Honey, you need a break, you have black eyes and you've lost weight since the last time we met. Being under constant stress is detrimental to your health. - Div, what about that country house you were talking about the other day? - Roger immediately joined in, taking up the idea. - I'm driving, so we can all go together. - Yuuken, you'll go too, no objection,- Anita smiled softly. - Yes, ma'am. I'll just talk to my superiors about letting us go for a couple of days. - Weeks at least,- Сruel added. *** Sitting surrounded by at least 15 pups, Yuu felt like he was falling asleep, they were really too tired for everything that had happened. The quiet snuffling of the pups around him brought him back nostalgically to the time when Yuu was just learning to play the piano with his father and, due to his age and height, couldn't reach the pedals below. How he and Uncle Divus would look at all sorts of fashion magazines, and Yuu would try to draw this or that dress or suit with crayons under his uncle's guidance. Even now, he could hear his mother and father discussing something with Uncle Divvy over a bottle of wine and quiet laughter. Grimm and Juuken fell asleep in a couple of minutes lying on the couch. Grimm climbed onto Yuuken's stomach and used it as a pillow.

Only in the evening, waking up from the doorbell, Yuu sleepily opened his eyes, they slept so soundly and well that they did not even notice how one of the particularly daring and playful puppies tried to gnaw his sleeve. - Who's, Uncle Divvy? - Yuu rubbed his eyes and yawned contentedly. Cruel carried several boxes into the room. - Courier with delivery, although it is strange that no one expected a special package. - What's is Divvy? - It came in the name of Yuu. - Me? - After getting out of the trap of the puppies, Yuu looked at the boxes with a puzzled expression. They were all in his name. And then Yuu noticed several small cards attached to the boxes. In the first box were expensive bagels with filling and frosting. It was a gift from Tsunotaro with an apology that they had to go through all this and Crowley had caused them so much inconvenience.

In the boxes from Tsunotaro there was also a basket of wild roses with a very pleasant and subtle aroma. Several varieties of very delicious tea and a letter was enclosed in an envelope. - "The items are very expensive and refined. Who is this secret fan, sweety? - Anita smiled softly. - From a friend, Mom...a very kind and good friend. - Yuu pulled out the letter and sat down on a chair and began to run his eyes over the beautiful written lines. Malleus certainly tried to put all his feelings and sincere empathy into the lines. The letter was very touching and full of grace, but the one phrase that caught Yuu's attention most was the one from the villain. "If you or your loved ones need help, please contact me first. It doesn't matter what the circumstances are, it doesn't matter who I have to stand up against, whether it's villainous or even heroic, I will always help you no matter what happens, my dear and sweet reporter. Your loyal friend and " pink ink was added "and the most important terrible villain" - this must have been Vanruge. ... your loyal friend and loyal fan. Enjoy your vacation, we'll probably take a break for a while, too. " At the bottom was another postscript in pink ink : "One of the minions had the temerity to fall asleep in a den with the windows open. And now in our shelter a flock of birds, rabbits, squirrels and other small creatures that need to be attached" Yuu choked on a laugh as he imagined the mighty Tsunotaro surrounded by all these cute little animals. Finally, this long day gave Yuu something good, at least they will spend a few days with their family and close friends. Finally, the long-awaited rest and a short vacation came. By the way, the bagels with stuffing that were sent were damn delicious. - To bribe me on an empty stomach, up villainy is not otherwise-Yuu grinned, finishing another bagel. Thank you for your attention!

AAAAAAAH, I LOVE THIS!!

The perfect little ending to ease the sad of the last submission!! Yuu getting away with beating up Crowley! Crowley’s henchpeople treating Yuu with more respect and kindness than birb dad does!! Yuu’s dad wanting the Prefect’s autograph!! Forcing Yuu onto a vacation because their family loves them and wants them to feel safe and happy!! Yuuken and Grim going home with them and falling asleep in the puppy pile together!! Malleus’ care package and Lilia’s additions to his note!! I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS!!

Thank you so much for sending this in!!

[leviiattacks]

Two Faced | Chapter Six

↳ levi ackerman, the very person who was about to kindly behead you by a surprising turn of events manages to become your loving husband? you would be elated if this was true love, but it's all thanks to a mysterious magic spell that your life is spared. for now at least.

pairing :: duke!levi x duchess!reader genre :: royal au, angst, fluff, slice of life etc word count :: 2.4k  author note :: i have not yet proof read any of this or chapter five like i said i would, so i apologize for any mistakes. sigh im sorry for the angst in this chapter ??? T__T i suppose my own mood tends to be reflected in my writing. anyway, i’m working on requests too so if you have any feel free to send them in :D  → next part is here!!

Everyone within the estate notices the way your schedule suddenly changes, half of them have no clue what you're doing seeing as it would be unfavorable for them to be aware of it in the first place.

However, after the bitter events of your first ODM-gear session you find it necessary to tell Sasha and Mikasa the truth. It's embarrassing really, and your mind disintegrates trying to find an appropriate way to tell to them about it. Sasha especially considering you've hid so much more from her.

The thought of letting them in on your lie has crossed your mind a number of times, but the image of Levi throwing you to the floor as he shakes in simmering outrage makes itself present. He will have objections against this and if he finds out you may end up in the same vulnerable position as before.

But, you don't care. If he wants to end your life for providing your confidants with honesty, so be it. It's not as if you have much of a choice.

Mikasa is sat in front of you bubbling with rage, she's disinfecting the gash at the top of your head - it has inconveniently tainted the surface of your skin after the second time you accidentally flipped in your gear.

Her breathing is heavy, evidently leaden with acidity it's become background noise to you. You're now increasingly mindful of how she's trying her best to keep calm for you. The realization that you're a liability and a hindrance to those around you makes you wince in shame.

You may as well be considered a synonym for humiliation at this point. That's how badly you're handling everything that comes your way.

Sasha doesn't say a word as she's brushing the knots out of your hair. There's nothing more you want to do than snatch the wooden paddle brush away from her, tell her she doesn't have to do this for you or commit herself to someone as unworthy as yourself. It's shameful that you let her continue - your only reason is that making her feel uncomfortable by the action is a possibility and that is the last thing you wish for.

The corners of your lips twitch upwards but you fight the desire to laugh at your pathetic circumstances.

"We aren't really in love." You finally say it. "He's never loved me." Your voice is ragged, voice trembling, breath laboured.

"You don't need to explain." Mikasa is calm in the way she approaches it all. "All we need to know is that the Duke is a pig."

Sasha has now stopped brushing out your hair now playing with the ends of your strands between her fingers.

"We expect no explanation from you it's been a long day." She gently whispers.

"Everyone deserves to rest. That includes you." Sasha's soft voice provides a kind of comfort that consoles you the way stars provide solace to the night. Your eyes fill to the brim with tears, you've desperately wished for years that someone would tell you that and mean it and here it is. She's smiling down at you, not even an ounce of irritation present in the way she addresses the situation.

Mikasa is silently caressing the top of your hand with her thumb. They aren't outraged or resentful. Even though they should be they aren't.

Heart twisting due to the prickles of relief they've given you your shoulders slump and you give in choking down a sob.

Sasha circles her arms around your quivering form and she strokes your hair. "It was hard, right?"

Attempting to blink your tears away you feebly nod. The weight of it all being kept to yourself has been unbearable. Tolerating this unwelcoming and cynical actuality on your own has been one of the hardest obstacles to come your way. To be swept off your feet and loved with such sincerity only to then be thrown away by that man like a rag-doll. Only to be coerced into doing what he wants or to face the music and face an early death. It's truly had a deeply somber affect on you.

You take one profound breath and you begin to tell them your story.

There are moments at which Mikasa's grip on your hand strengthens in a mix of frustration and protectiveness.

Eventually, at some point Sasha tries to secretively wipe a tear away when you recount Levi's blackened, subdued gaze the day he reverted back to his old self and announced you would never be a wife of his.

It's all too overwhelming for you when you tell them you're only alive sitting in this bed because you've bartered your freedom for a chance at existence. It's always been that way, you had to give, in order to receive, but this is one of the rare occasions you don't feel that way. The beating of your heart steadies, you're thankful for the way they listen and ask for nothing in return.

You stare at them once you're finished worried that you've overloaded them with too much information, you didn't even think to believe how they'd feel associating with a speculated "witch".

"You believe me right?" Your hoarse voice is thickened with worry.

You feel Sasha nod above your head.

"We believe you."

Staring at her glossy eyes you turn to look at Mikasa, she holds your arm in place and squeezes your hand reassuringly, it's enough to convey that she too has faith in you.

The days since have been passing excruciatingly slow. The day after the ordeal with Levi you can sense the way the other cadets look at you. It's a combination of distaste and pity. They stay far away from you, don't want to pair up with you during group exercises or activities - you aren't annoyed at all. In fact it's in their best interest they stay far away from your uncoordinated stiffness.

Oluo seems to feel horrible for challenging you to use ODM-gear when your core strength was not to the best of your abilities, he mumbles an apology for contributing to the gash on your forehead but you tell him it's quite alright and you assure him it isn't his fault that you thought you would be able to master the mechanism of the gear so early on.

On one of your more empty days you finally find the time to make your pit-stop at Hange's office, knocking on their door a breezy "Come on in!" is the response you're given.

To your surprise Levi is sitting there with a map and pen in his hand. Unmoving, his attention is solely on the plans in front of him. Ignoring him you inquire what it is Hange wanted to so desperately discuss with you but they wave it off saying the issue they had has now been solved.

Turning to walk away you don't divert your stare to Levi, simply knowing he's in one piece is good enough for you.

Other than that the repetitive pattern has stayed the same. It's a cycle of waking up, skipping breakfast, training for hours on end, returning completely exhausted, bathing and ultimately passing out in bed almost as soon as you've made contact with the mattress.

Levi and you awkwardly have to share the same bedroom at the estate to avoid any rumours of a broken marriage spreading. You don't understand why it matters, the "rumours" would be factual and true.

At first he sleeps in his office using the excuse of paperwork and planning attack formations but he knows that excuse will soon run dry. Later he utilities one of the armchairs in your room and sleeps in it for an hour or two, it concerns you how he's barely sleeping now, but you aren't vocal about your worry. Last but not least today is what you call a hollow night, the other half of your King sized bed is vacant, you haven't caught a single glimpse of Levi all day despite foolishly being on the look out for him. These nights are the worst.

Silence comes hand in hand with the peace and tranquility of the dark but that isn't what you feel, nevertheless you make the effort to sleep knowing your body will thank you for it when you train tomorrow.

Just as you're at the brink of drifting softly to sleep you feel the weight on the other side of your bed shift, you nearly jolt but your body's survival instincts halt the action. Suddenly, you are eerily alert of your surroundings. This isn't Levi, he'd never dare to come anywhere near you in general, but then shock renders you in place, he's fatigued by your presence perhaps it is him and this is finally your time.

That doesn't sound right to you. Levi is a man of his word if he wanted to go through with it he would have long ago.

A warm palm embraces your cheek and you second guess your previous line of thought. Instead of Levi Is this Lev?

This confirms your suspicions. The magic has yet to fully dwindle away. It's faltering.

Eyes fluttering open with caution you want to tell him how you've missed his presence greatly for this will be short lived. Lev will come and go. Even if you know it'll only obstruct your progress you wish to tell him you're grateful for the affection he gave you when he was around, but as you open your eyes half lidded he presses you into his chest.

The pace of your heart erratically springs, his breath is tickling the back of your neck. You can hear the blood drumming in your ears.

It pains you but you have to push him away.

But when you begin to emphasize the distance between the two of you he doesn't give you the opportunity to speak again, he flares up in want and presses his lips against yours, kisses you hard. You automatically reciprocate and your nerves cause your teeth to accidentally clatter against his.

His fingers run through your hair, frantically, desperately.

You'll be scolded for this later but it's not like you care and it's not like you can talk Levi out of it now. Not when he's like this.

An uncontrolled breathe leaves you and he lightly cups your jaw slipping his tongue inside. It tastes of whisky, you immediately recoil.

He's intoxicated.

"I'm sorry. Go to bed Lev." Your plain response is enough to worry him.

He holds onto your wrists and tugs at you. "My love?" His adoring stare is enough to make you crumble.

This isn't playing out how you want, you can't do this, not right now. You refuse to make this harder on yourself. Turning around you face away from him.

"I'm tired."

But Levi refuses to make it any easier on you.

He pulls you in by the torso again, handling you like a delicate flower.

He asks again.

"Whatever is wrong? I'll handle it for you."

It's abnormal hearing him talk to you with positive regard or even offer to help you. Repeatedly you warn yourself don't give in. The pace your head throbs at is in time with your heart, you're finding hope in the hopeless if you tell him your feelings.

"My Lord. Please leave me alone. Please. When the Sun rises you will regret this, as will I." You're unrestrained in your pleading now, your wailing fills the chambers you and Levi occupy.

"Please." Your voice is straining and urgent.

Thankfully, the maid's quarters are far, they won't hear the way you cry out for him to put an end to this torturous mind game.

Face slippery with hushed tears the tearing of your heart can not be heard. Bloodshot eyes blur your vision, you can't see. You don't think you want to, not when he firmly grips onto you like his life depends on it.

Then. The air changes, he's still holding onto you but his arms stiffen. He feels the way your back shivers against his chest. How your choked, cracked gasps for breath are an indication of how he's destroyed any chances you've had of sleeping.

Wordlessly, he lets go of you. Not a single word is uttered. The only sound amongst the alienating silence is his footsteps.

You hate this.

He closes the door behind him as he departs.

No, you hate him.

An unusual amount of sunlight compared to usual floods into your room and you have to practically block it out with one of your arms. Stirring awake your eyes burn, the whites must still be raw and inflamed.

This is usually the amount of sunlight you'd expect to see midday. Stifling a yawn you look around you. Then it hits you. It's not morning.

It's midday.

Your hands fly to your mouth trying to swallow your gasp down your throat, you're in hot water. It's not permitted for anyone to miss training unless they're excused by one of the higher ups. It's not as if you've missed a hour of training either, you've missed four.

There's no way to explain this, no way at all.

After everything he put you through last night the least Levi could have done was wake you up or at least order one of the maids to do so. It's his fault you slept at that ungodly hour.

An incessant knocking begins and you're almost certain it's Levi who's come to scold you for missing training. For some reason you can't make yourself care about his possible annoyance just yet.

"I'm coming in!"

You let out a short sigh. Thank Heavens it's only Sasha.

The door flings open and she pulls you out of bed not giving you the chance to greet her good morning.

"What have you gone and done???"

Awkwardly you chuckle. "I slept in and forgot training." Her face contorts and twists not knowing what expression is appropriate to express her bewilderment.

"No, no. WHY DID THE DUKE LET YOU OFF TRAINING TODAY?? IT'S OUT OF CHARACTER."

At a complete loss for words, open mouthed all you can manage to do is clear your throat trying to keep your jaw from dropping. "He what?"