#this is me being stupidly determined to type out all of those tags

[neonponders]

WIP Wednesday

Thank you for tagging me @lazybakerart 💗💋

I’ve got two big writing projects on my plate this week lol but one thing I’m kind of indulging is a break-up/getting back together fic that I actually started in this post, but I’ll share what I have so far underneath the cut ~

(and excuse me while I overshare, because I’m still stupidly proud of this The Mummy_au post that I made if anyone wants a taste of that)

Tagging (if you want) ✨ @ghostofjellyfishforgotten , ✨ @smashmouth-hargrove , and ✨ @withoneheadlight 

(also just a heads up for the wip below: it’s once again me exploring my own asexuality through Steve, but I don’t know how far I’m going to go into it. Still, that might be a content warning people may need if they’re sex-repulsed 🌹)

Ch. 1

Sex with Billy was fine. Good, even.

When they finally moved past every look and touch being a threat veiled in a tease, Steve enjoyed looking at Billy. He enjoyed looking at Billy and discovering those California eyes already on him. He liked Billy’s hands. The man had beautiful hands; strong, thick fingers but...somehow elegant.

He liked Billy’s body, even though he sometimes worried that the guy seemed determined to break it ten different ways. Cigarettes, alcohol, excessive working out, and sometimes all at the same time.

Sex didn’t always mean Steve got to cum. Usually he didn’t, actually. But he enjoyed Billy’s kisses on his neck, and the taste of his tongue, and - admittedly - he loved just having all of Billy’s attention enraptured on him. Steve didn’t mind taking his dick inside because once he got used to it, that felt surprisingly good. When he managed the pleasurable sparks and sensational tingles that mounted into something explosive, he understood why sex was great. But for the more frequent, calm nights, he’d come to think of it as a weird yet pleasant massage.

So he took it. Because it was easier on his hands and knees, for one, and because Billy had a control complex. And Steve could hide his lack of enthusiasm.

Not to say that Billy was selfish or careless. Far from it, Billy Hargrove was an incredibly doting lover. Big surprise, there. Considering how the guy

Well

Existed.

Steve couldn’t really blame Billy for never noticing that he could go a long time without sex. Because Steve liked resting his hand on Billy’s chest while they watched a show or movie. It didn’t matter how much bare skin he had access to. In fact, the more coverage, the better. A clothed body is better to cuddle with than skin that can get sticky or irritated.

Steve liked kissing. He’d always liked kissing. Kissing was the reason he’d assumed he was like everyone else: the desire to kiss, crushes and girlfriends, masturbating, even the giddiness of sex with someone new.

But something fizzled out very quickly in Steve’s brain. Once hands and intent started moving beneath clothing, Steve just...didn’t want it. Suddenly a lot of things popped into his brain that he’d rather be doing. But he persevered because he loved Nancy, and her blooming sexual prowess and bravery was sexy.

Fun.

Billy was a whole big bag of new with an edge of scary that turned out to be more endearing than Steve thought possible. So it was easy to go like that for a while.

Normal.

Eventually he had to admit to himself that he didn’t like taking showers at 1am because he didn’t enjoy being covered in his own, and Billy’s, sweat. He didn’t like feeling the drips on his skin or the tackiness of too many skin oils on his hands.

He hated admitting to himself that he felt relief whenever Billy went out of town for work. He missed Billy, of course, but a lot of things had begun to snowball together in Steve’s life: changing jobs, managing bank accounts and savings, and there were a lot of truths Steve was facing outside of his relationship.

He was tired. Damn tired. He spent many days off wondering if people in their twenties feel this tired all the time or if it was just him. It must just be him. Because Steve sees Robin just as much as he doesn’t. She’s got goals.

And Billy

Billy has big dreams. He’s ready to work damn hard and already is. That’s why he uses his hefty gas money funds, to travel around. Scout the areas. Steve even drove him to the airport once, so Billy could really gain some distance over the weekend. Expand his network.

As if the universe knew, some bigwig passing through Hawkins on their way to Chicago ran right into Billy. A bigwig looking for a handsome, charismatic, young guy to mentor. It really couldn’t be more perfect than divine intervention. They’re Billy’s inlet to the business. Modeling, acting, freaking UNICEF ambassadorial work if he wants to feel extra important. If he gets big enough to have his face mean something around the world.

Within one conversation, he’s got a business card, and an appointment in a Chicago skyscraper next week to take measurements and do a rudimentary photo shoot. The manager warns him that it’s the agency getting to know him, but like any job interview, it’s his chance to interview them right back. Billy likes that a lot—feeling like he has a stake in something instead of just being a corporate pawn. And maybe he eats right out of the manager’s hand, but it’s still a shot. And he’s taking it.

He immediately goes to Steve’s work, fired up from seeing a future for the first time like he finally got the right prescription glasses. The only caveat is that Billy has to move out of Hawkins, which isn’t even a flaw, really. It’s as close to perfect as life’s ever been for him.

Steve can only listen quietly as he sits at the table in the break room. Because Billy’s got big dreams that are already coming true. Every detail of his enflamed speech is given over pacing feet; he can’t even bother to sit at the table. Billy’s got so much energy he’s already mentally and emotionally out the door.

Steve…isn’t. His mental health has been on a downward slope since before they graduated, and it won’t allow him to reach anywhere. He doesn’t have any dreams to steer him in any direction anyways.

Billy’s rant begins to wind down about what he wants to do; his fire about his dreams and his motivation simmers down to an even boil. Steve’s impressed and already proud of the person Billy will become, but Steve can also hear Billy’s frustration with him and their relationship.

For not keeping up.

Steve’s…kind of never been able to keep up. In bed or in life.

And perhaps the saddest part is that Steve doesn’t even have it in him to fight for it. For them. He doesn’t feel worthy enough to hold Billy back. So he doesn’t.

Billy snaps a little, “Why aren’t you saying anything? I’ve been talking about this for the last two years! Steve?”

He’d gotten distracted by looking at his backpack hanging on the wall. Steve’s throat hurt. Two years? God, it’s really been two years already…

He pinched his fingertips over the table as he began, “Billy, I support you. I know you can get there—wherever it is you want to be. I’m not going to tell you to stop or slow down. You’re going somewhere. But I’m…”

He took a breath to finally say it. “Not. I don’t know what I’m doing, and I don’t think I have the energy to figure it out any time soon. You should go.”

Steve can see the disappointment sinking through Billy’s features. And the anger that he’s so used to throwing up as a shield. Billy has so much energy coursing through him as it is, Steve can’t blame him for swinging right into the direction of livid.

The real surprise comes from how soft he speaks. No yelling. No hitting the table. No wrenching Steve up by his green uniform vest. They were long past those outbursts. Which…really just confirmed Steve’s decision. Billy had come a long way. He could go so much further.

“That’s what you have to say? Just like that…you’re really giving up on us?”

Steve knows he’s gaping like a stupid fish. But it isn’t just like that, is it? Billy’s been revving his engines to get the hell out of Hawkins ever since he got here in the first place. Steve tries to say as much, but Billy cuts him off.

“I thought you’d be excited for this. You should be hauling me out of here to pack my bags.”

Steve tries to offer a small smile, but his voice betrays him. “I thought I kind of am? I didn’t take you for the long distance type.”

It’s not the response Billy wants. That should make Steve feel better than it does; the blatant display that Billy wants more of Steve. His excitement, his attention, maybe his companionship…

Steve doesn’t know what he wants—or rather, he does. That’s the issue. Billy’s wants and Billy’s problems can all be resolved by leaving one critical piece behind.

Steve.

Some more things are said, but Steve doesn’t do well on the spot. Especially when the limelight is Billy. Steve fails the tests and he fails the interview. Billy storms out, leaving Steve at the table, pinching his fingertips white before he unconsciously glances at his backpack again.

The backpack full of apartment lease papers. The papers Steve’s already signed because even with his insecurities, the mornings he woke up to discover Billy spooning him after having returned in the middle of the night were his best days. Because Billy’s silly insistence on hand poured coffee was his favorite drink. Because Billy was funny and weird like an artist and loony like a nerd with his video games, and Steve knew—or at least hoped that—Billy loved him the day he started holding his hand while driving that stupid, loud, beloved Camaro—

Because Steve’s heart was a magnet. It stayed where it landed and tugged back even when pulled away.

All he’d needed was Billy’s autograph to be given the keys. Keys to the rest of their lives, if Billy wasn’t already so far away.

Ch. 2

Robin gripped Steve’s arm, hard. A gargled sound escaped him as he grimaced and tried to pry her hand off. Her other hand pointed at one of the catalogues on the store’s many counters. When he invited her with him to pick out glasses, he hadn’t expected to walk out of the freaking optometrist’s office with bruises…

Nor had he thought he’d see a familiar face in the catalogue. Plenty of models were looking editorial chic, advertising that anyone could look as good in whatever glasses they chose.

Except Billy really did look good. The picture was just a vague image outside, the camera focused on Billy’s three-quarter profile gazing off past the photographer.

“I didn’t expect him to actually be working this fast,” Robin admitted. “It’s been…what? Seven months, give or take? I thought casting calls for models were competitive.”

“Not if you look like Billy,” Steve huffed with a quiet mixture of humor, sadness, and just a sprinkle of spite. A sprinkle of jealousy, if he was being honest with himself. The self-help book tucked under the covers of his bed talked about honesty. So he admitted honestly, “He looks that good and knows how to stand out in a room…good for him.”

He could see in his periphery Robin looking up and scrutinizing him. “Really?”

Steve shrugged with a nod. “Yeah. What’s the other option? Him struggling for work?”

Robin sighed and plucked a display set of glasses at random to try on and occupy herself. “That’s big of you, but everyone wants something cathartic. It’s annoyingly impressive that he landed the front cover of a magazine in less than a year.”

Steve opened the catalogue to give them both a reprieve. “You wanna get food after this? Take your mind off the audition?”

For all the good being a band geek did, Robin had experienced her own humbling experiences over the last few months. Like failed auditions to be in city orchestras. She and Steve were feeling very stuck in Kansas while Billy gallivanted around Oz.

• • • • • • •

The plot gets messy because years will actually go by, and Steve and Robin get married so that they can share insurance benefits (and be safe in their bi/lesbian open relationship, buy a house together, etc. It’s the life/happiness security Steve wants but obviously there aren’t any romantic feelings).

Of course this is when Billy happens to reenter Steve’s life. He’s got some hot-shot model he’s been seeing, and apparently Steve is married so there’s the added dash and twist of ~ cheating ~

I’ve been in some kind of mood, all right.

If you made it this far, thank you for reading lol.

#harringrove #wip wednesday #this is a long one i'm sorry lol #also do check out the mummy au linked above for a much happier wip lol #neonponders #lazybakerart #the art of steve in a blindfold can also be considered a wip? #i'll reblog it for everyone haha #ficlet #break-up/getting back together

[tintinwrites]

soft place to land | Din Djarin x Reader | Part One

A/N: Writing this story came so naturally to me and I really enjoyed it and I have lots of plans for it!! I hope you love reading this as much as I loved making it <3

Rating: T (will be M in the future, needy pies)

Warning: Canon-typical violence. Naughty words. That’s it honestly!

Word count: 2,933, apparently!!

Summary: You’re supposed to be nothing more than yet another quarry for Din, but then you see through him like his helmet doesn’t offer any secrecy at all.

GIF credit: @thesefleshfailures​ who also needs to be credited for helping me with knowledge I needed (or reassuring me I was overthinking the things I did know) and loving me during writing this!

Tags: Open!

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

The cantina was crowded, but there was no doubt in Din’s mind that his quarry was somewhere among all these civilians.

This wasn’t his usual type of job if he was being honest, hunting someone down for the Hutts of all beings, but the few quarries he had frozen in time on his ship didn’t add up to much and your capture would have him set for quite a bit.

He needed some money.

When he’d landed the Razor Crest and the kid looked at him with those big eyes that were probably wondering if he was going to get to explore, he was a little defensive as he said, “I’m only doing it for the money.”

He’d made sure that everything was secure and no womp rats had followed him out, then let the beeping of the fob tracker lead him to where it sensed someone that aligned with the chain code data entered into it.

A glance over the puck with your bounty told him that you were pretty much as bad as who he was hunting you for, which made him not as worried about working for them; apparently you’d scammed them into allowing you to infiltrate their group and run off with a bunch of their money earned from shady dealings.

It was also a lot of money.

He was guessing a cut of what you had taken from them.

The device lead him to a little cantina where his eyes were searching the crowd for someone matching your description.

It didn’t take him long to figure out who you were; even if he hadn’t known exactly what you looked like, your eyes flashed to him the moment he stepped into view.

He found that when his quarries had committed a crime as big as yours, they knew he was there for them, and he didn’t need to make a sound for you to look up at him like you’d anticipated his arrival.

You tried to be subtle about it. You placed your stolen credits on the table calmly and slid out of your seat like you were simply finished with your drink.

And then you bolted out a rear entrance.

Din wasn’t an idiot; he’d scoped out the place enough to determine all possible exits and there was only one from the way you’d taken, an alley stretching between this building and the one sitting next to it.

Running would have been the first, most typical option that anyone else would consider, but you were his last quarry he was taking this week before turning them in and he wasn’t really in the mood to spend his time racing after you and tackling you.

It was pretty obvious that you were an easy target for him and he decided to take this job like it was leisure time.

Meanwhile, you were bolting through the small space behind the cantina and heading for the alley, glancing over your shoulder and expecting to see the bounty hunter stalking out the back door.

A pitiful little noise of fear fell from your lips when you turned around and skidded to a halt, seeing him standing halfway down the alley.

He was leaning back against the wall of the opposite building, one ankle crossed over the other and his hands folded in front of himself, staring at the ground as if he was simply resting off a few drinks.

“I can bring you in warm...or I can bring you in cold.” His neck practically rolled with grace as he casually lifted his head to look at you, though his words were more to frighten you than a legitimate threat; it was demanded that you were brought alive.

“—you’re determined.” And you stood there.

You just...stood there.

You didn’t try to run back into the cantina or find another escape and you didn’t try to stupidly ambush him without weapons like many had done.

He stared at you in confusion for a long moment then realized he was wasting time, stepping towards you perhaps a bit cautiously in case you had some secret plan that he couldn’t figure out.

You didn’t even flinch when he was standing right in front of you, an intimidating figure seemingly made of metal looming over you with the intention to drag you back to where you’d be punished if not murdered by Hutts.

It wasn’t until he grabbed onto your arm and began cuffing your wrists that you finally made some sort of normal reaction to your situation, tears filling your eyes and rapidly falling down your cheeks in a performance he had to admit that was pretty impressive.

He rolled his eyes at your sob, jerking on your other wrist to secure it as well.

You grabbed onto his hands with your now-limited grip and his eyes flashed to you with curiosity and warning that you couldn’t see as you softly said, “You are so lonely.”

He was staring again, entirely bemused, not sure if you were making some weird attempt at appealing to him or if you knew something he barely acknowledged, sad eyes looking deep into his as if you could see them right through the helmet.

All he did in response was grab onto the cuffs to drag you along to his ship, deciding you were trying to shake him.

Not that he had to drag you since you were stumbling behind him, walking without any hesitation when you managed to match his determined— purposeful stride.

Typically, he would shove you in carbonite with the rest of his quarries, but since you were his last this week, he was going to be dropping you off right away, and you really weren’t giving him any trouble.

There was the possibility of you lulling him into a false sense of security and attacking him the moment he — and he wouldn’t — let himself trust you; he was fairly certain he could overpower you with little effort, though, and he was going to nip any thoughts of attacking him in the bud.

You still weren’t fighting him when he stopped you in front of the carbonite slabs, making you stare at the few beings who were frozen in their horror.

His grip on your arm was perhaps a bit too tight both in an attempt to frighten you and because he was possibly a little shaken from your observation of him. “One wrong move...and that’s you.”

You nodded, letting him bump you forward towards another part of his ship where he urged you to carefully climb a ladder with your bound hands, right behind you to the point where his chest was pressed to your back as you jerkily climbed into the cockpit.

He gripped your shoulder and pushed you down into the seat behind and to the right of the pilot’s seat, then sat down with perhaps too much aggression in the seat at the helm.

A soft coo sounded, both of you looking towards the little floating cot next to the dashboard where a tiny green being with very large ears popped up and stared right at you.

“Do not touch him.”

“I wasn’t going to.”

His tone was defensive, but yours was not even though he’d implied you would dare hurt the little being; you almost sounded fond.

He focused on powering up his ship and bringing it into the air, reaching out without looking to grab the kid by the back of his cloak and plop him back in the cot when he tried to climb out.

The trip was tensely silent then, and he was happy to have such a compliant quarry despite you being a little strange.

When the ship was at lightspeed and his mind didn’t have to be focused on much aside from making sure his timing was right for your drop off, his thoughts wandered back to the only sort of lashing out you’d really done when he was cuffing you.

You cried, but you didn’t beg him to spare you like he might have thought.

You are so lonely.

He heard the distinct sound of crying clear in his mind then looked slightly over his shoulder to find that you were sobbing again.

But it still didn’t seem like someone trying to appeal to his sympathy like usual and you were very confusing. “Please, you can’t take me back there. People are going to be hurt if you take me back.”

There it was, your typical attempt at bargaining with him as if this was more than money to him and there was anything you could do to convince him to let you go.

Quarries offered him money that he knew they didn’t have.

Some offered to kill for him as if he could possibly need that.

You didn’t offer anything to him, but it was clear to him that you thought tears would make him consider perhaps a change of heart.

Of course people were going to be hurt, specifically you who had been dumb and immoral enough to scam Hutts out of money for Maker’s sake, and that wasn’t going to convince him to let you run free.

A higher whimper mixed with your own, soft and much nearer, and he turned to find the kid was looking at you with tears welling in his big eyes.

Din immediately whipped around to look at you, accusation rolling off him. “What are you doing?!”

“Nothing, I’m not even near him!” You held up your bound hands to show you were innocent, that there was no reason for him to assume you were doing anything.

“Then why—forget it.” He slowly moved back to his original position.

He was reading too much into this, paranoid that you weren’t even trying to stop him from taking you aside from your attempt at guilting him. Younglings were often emotional and he was probably sad to see another person crying.

He realized you’d clear miss Nevarro if he didn’t drop out of lightspeed and he turned his focus on that instead of thinking about what you’d said to him, about how soft and calm you seemed for a person who ran off with money that wasn’t theirs.

Especially about how the child continually tried to climb out of his cot to go to you.

We need the money, he told him with a look he couldn’t see as he broke through the atmosphere towards the planet.

You didn’t plead again when the ship landed in the spaceport and you didn’t even need him to tell you it was time to take you back, standing up on your own and following him to the ladder down to the lower level of the ship.

Climbing down would be a little more difficult for you than going up had, and he went down first to help you. It occurred to him that you easily could have attempted to go back to the cockpit to try flying his ship, but he doubted you were a pilot at all let alone a good enough one to actually manage anything, and you simply let him help you down.

His grip was tight on you anyway in case you tried anything, pretending no one was looking at him suspiciously as he first earned his credits in exchange for the few quarries he had in slabs of carbonite.

It seemed you were going to be brought to someone in particular, someone in charge of transporting you back to the Hutts you’d stolen money from, and he took you in last to make this drop off as efficient as he could.

The man who came to collect you was a tall wisp of a human that apparently drove terror into your heart the moment you saw him, finally showing genuine will to be free as you dug your heels into the ground and tugged against Din’s grip.

“Please, please, you have to listen! People are going to be hurt if you let him take me back to them!”

You were nearly panicking and something about it seemed almost genuine, like you weren’t thinking of yourself.

He merely continued dragging you ahead.

Then you yanked hard enough for him to stop in his tracks, stumbling back into you and looking at you with wide eyes that you couldn’t see behind his helmet.

“Whatever they said, I didn’t do it! You have to listen, I didn’t! I know you’re good. I know you’re a good man. I see it. I can feel it. You are not heartless.” Your arm left his now limp grip, hands pressing into his armor as if that proved there was a heart somewhere beneath it.

It obviously wasn’t the first time he stared at you, but it was the first time he hesitated.

The terror in your eyes was genuine, your words tripping over one another in desperation and your voice holding this tone like you really knew that he was anything close to good.

He grabbed onto your arm again, leading you up to the man and shoving you towards him a bit more roughly than he’d intended to, taking his cuffs back when someone who wasn’t him had a good grip on you.

“And here I thought it was cocky to preempt that you’d have her here by today,” the man said in a thick accent, his tone haughty otherwise.

“She was easy,” Din’s own voice was low and uninterested in long conversation.

“You must speak of a different girl. She’s been nothing but trouble from the day I met her. This little stunt of hers hasn’t gone unnoticed. She will—”

“My money?”

He almost seemed embarrassed at his little speech being interrupted, unaware of the little self-satisfied smile on Din’s face as he watched the man hurriedly pull out a decent amount of credits and toss them to him.

Looking at them quickly and determining that it seemed to be the amount that was promised, Din’s eyes scanned over your dejected face as he turned and walked away.

“You believed the use of your skill was difficult enough before? Have you any idea what they have planned for you? You’ll be in chains for the rest of your many years. You won’t see a bit of food or water until you’ve weeded out all the traitors that have been piling up since your escape.”

He paused at that, turning his head to look slightly over his shoulder and seeing you through the very edge of his visor in obvious pain at the man’s hold on you.

But it was not his business.

The Child attempted to run out of the ship when he returned, but its running was at about the speed of Din’s slowest walk and he was able to scoop him up.

What he assumed to be an attempt at going out to explore was much different as the kid struggled in his grip, letting out small whimpers of...fear?

Like he was scared of something and needed to go outside.

The first thing Din recalled was how the Child had cried with you; young beings usually read off fear as well and would think it was necessary to be afraid if someone else was showing it.

—but he hadn’t seen your fear.

Perhaps he was in a bit of a rush to climb up into the cockpit with one hand on the ladder and one gripping the kid, plopping him in his cot as he sat in the pilot’s seat.

He was trying to climb out more than before despite continually being put back in, even denying his favorite piece from the dash that he loved playing with.

Din needed to fly away now, starting to notice a little doubt creeping in on himself in confusion at what was going on, if you were what he’d assumed of you and if the Child’s fear was linked with yours.

His eyes landed on you through the transparisteel, watching as you were marched to this man’s ship, instead of leaving like he intended to.

You were crying, but you followed dutifully.

And when you were standing there as the ramp to the ship opened, head down in defeat, the man turned around and slapped you hard enough to send you to the ground for literally no reason.

Din stared.

Then he groaned and let his helmet thunk back against the seat.

Fuck.

“You stay,” he warned the little creature dangling on the edge of his cot, getting up and moving swiftly down the ladder.

He grabbed a small blaster from his arsenal, walking from his ship to the transporter’s and aiming it at the man’s head as he yanked you unkindly to your feet.

“Give her to me.” His voice could be considered frightening by many, but this idiot only shoved you towards the ship and grinned.

“You think you can fool me by coming back to tell me you were shorted credits?” He glared back at you with a warning.

“I’m taking the credits and I’m taking her.”

His lips twitched, grin turning into something smaller and more sinister. “There were rumors you’d gone soft.”

Din shot a blaster bolt right into the man’s head.

How’s that for soft?

Your scream was not very loud, perhaps like you’d noticed the comment made him angry enough and you were stunned but not entirely taken aback.

However, your eyes were a little bit wide as you looked from the body on the ground to the helmet looking at you.

He nodded towards the Razor Crest.

“Get on the ship.”

#din djarin imagine #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian imagine #din djarin fic

[dyaz-stories]

Out of The Woods — Two: Loyalty

One: Acceptance

Hey guys! Super glad you’re hyped about this story :D Here’s chapter two, based on the prompt for day two of Inukag week. Hope you’ll enjoy it, and don’t hesitate to let me know if you want to be tagged for this story!

With the exception of a part at the end of the chapter, this was again beta-read by the amazing @sweetchcolate​, thank you so much for doing it on such short notice!!

Tagging: @keichanz​ @misspepperpottss​ @nopenname22​ @nartista​ @hnnwnchstr​ @littlestuffstohide​ @kazeinori​ @superpixie42

For most people, moving through a forest in total silence was near impossible. Even if they somehow managed not to rustle any leaves, didn’t make any twig crack under their feet, and succeeded in keeping their walk light, they would scare birds or deers, or worse, attract the attention of demons.

Not only did the woman manage not to do any of that, but she made it look easy, her fluid movements a testimony to how much of a threat she was. Slipping between bushes without making a noise, she took a glance down at the lake beneath her. There, laying on a rock under the sun, was the man she was here for, completely unaware of her presence. She’d placed herself under the wind, she wasn’t making a sound— she was unnoticeable. She wished it had made her feel powerful, but it just gave her the sickening feeling of being a predator, the type that she had devoted her life to hunting.

She hesitated on the procedure to follow. She was itching to reach for the oversized boomerang strapped to her back, but if she threw it from that distance, she considered it a given that he would hear it coming and be able to dodge it. If he tried to deflect it, which was equally likely in her opinion, it could play in her favor. The Hiraikotsu, being made of the bones of demons, had many interesting properties.

She was still weighing the pros and cons when a flock of birds flew away from right above her. The demon jumped to his feet instantly, and even from this distance, she could tell he was looking in her direction and sniffing the air. She plunged behind a bush, heart hammering in her chest, hand tightening around her weapon. She was prepared for an attack, she always was, but that didn’t mean she felt no fear.

After a few moments, the demon seemed to shrug it off, and she allowed herself to take in a deep breath, before turning around slowly, a dangerous glow shining in her eyes.

Behind her, the man responsible for the previous agitation didn’t even have the decency of looking sorry. Instead, he gave her a smile, that stupidly warm smile that made her skin tingle.

“Oops?”

That was it. Having worked so hard, for so long, to keep her composure at any given second, to keep her emotions under control, meant nothing at that moment. That one word was enough to break the carefully crafted dam.

“Do you have a death wish, monk?” she hissed through gritted teeth. “What have I told you? Any mistake can cause our deaths. That man has killed and—”

“…and he will again, sure, you’ve mentioned that once or twice,” he shrugged, with that nonchalance that drove her insane. “I am afraid you have a tendency to repeat yourself, dearest Sango. However, there are demons everywhere in this forest, and they must disrupt the birds. And of course, thanks to yours truly,” he curtseyed exaggeratedly, “we are protected by a barrier. He couldn’t find us if he knew we were there for sure. Which he does not.”

At this point, Sango was starting to feel a painful migraine coming, something she had gotten a little too accustomed to since she had started to work with Miroku. At least the monk was good at what he did, but after every single job they took together, she wondered if the price to pay was really worth it.

“No, but now, he knows something’s near,” she explained, “and he’ll be suspicious.”

Miroku looked above her shoulder, down at the half-demon.

“He looks like he is sleeping. Not the most suspicious attitude, if you ask me.”

“I didn’t,” Sango replied dryly. “Because you know nothing about those things.” A glance, and her worries were confirmed. Sure, his eyes were closed, and she couldn’t see much from here, but there was a tension to his body, in his legs and shoulders, that she recognized immediately. “He knows there’s something. We need to move.”

She walked past him, and Miroku rolled his eyes when she did, struggling to follow after her. His robes weren’t adequate for this mission, and even if he tried, which, admittedly, he hadn’t been doing earlier, there was no way he could be as silent as her. Hadn’t he had his eyes on her back, he wouldn’t have known the woman was there, and she was only a couple of meters away from him.

“I don’t know why you bother. We will not have the element of surprise here. We cannot approach him without him noticing. Even with the barrier—”

“I’m aware, Miroku,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “But that does not mean we want him to know we’re here before we’re ready to take him on.”

Hm. To be fair, that did make sense.

“The most efficient way to get there is through the river,” Sango reasoned out loud. “If we climb down, he’ll definitely hear us coming and we will be at a disadvantage. Water should cover our scents and the river should be loud enough that he won’t hear us, as long as we’re not too obvious about it. Of course, he’ll know as soon as we enter the basin, but that is the best we can manage. Think you can handle it?”

Miroku nodded, determination steeling his face, and Sango almost sighed in relief. When he took things seriously, which did not happen often, he was capable of being very efficient. He was easily distracted even then, sure, but his talents allowed him to make him through almost any situation. As long as no beautiful woman entered his sight line, they should be good. He became simply unbearable when he was around women.

“Sango, I’m sure I have mentioned this already, but did you know you truly have the most marvelous a—”

“You’ve seen the Hiraikotsu tear through thousands of demons, monk. What makes you think your skull stands a better chance?”

The dangerous edge in her tone didn’t go unnoticed, and Miroku chose to stay quiet after that. It was no doubt the smartest choice here, but it almost pained him not to voice his thoughts out loud.

She had the most marvelous ass he’d ever seen.

Inuyasha laid peacefully by the lake, one feet casually moving in the water, enjoying the sun. Today had been a good day so far. There were left over fruits from the day before, which meant he didn’t have to go out early for breakfast, and had been able to stay a little longer in the cabin that was now filled with Kagome’s scent, something he fiercely refused to admit he enjoyed as much as he did.

Kagome had stuck around for a while after that, and he appreciated her presence by his side. She had taken to weaving straw to try and make mattresses for the two of them. It was far from being her specialty, and the process was slow, but he liked that she was doing it. It meant — it had to mean — that she was planning on staying after all, right?

As always, the activity had started out real quiet, and then, after a while, she hadn’t been able to stop herself from talking. He enjoyed watching how long she managed to hold on until she finally gave in. He wasn’t the biggest fan of her chatter, but he did like her voice, liked how natural it was, how it made him feel. It was really— it was a really normal activity, wasn’t it? If he’d lived in the village, he would probably get in those types of conversations. He wouldn’t like it all that much, but it wasn’t unpleasant to think about every once in a while.

They’d eaten together, and he’d entertained her when she had asked him questions about the forest. She treaded carefully when it came to his past, and it was almost funny to watch her try her damn best to be as sensitive as possible. She’d left not long after, climbing up a part of the basin that formed an admittedly unpractical staircase, and he’d enjoyed his peace and quiet since then.

Well. Somewhat.

It wasn’t like he missed her when she was gone, but things were a little too quiet ‘round here when she wasn’t there.

His eyes snapped open at a whistling sound and he jumped to the side, just in time to avoid the huge, white object that had been hurled at him. Up in the air, he identified it as a boomerang. His mind started to piece together what was happening: the object had to have been thrown by someone, someone that he needed to locate real fast unless he wanted to—

Something hit him in the back, knocking him into the lake.

“Fuck!” a woman’s voice yelled as he pierced the surface.

Under the water, Inuyasha snarled, struggling furiously to get rid of the projectile that was sending jolts of electricity through his entire body. The feeling wasn’t unlike the first time he’d met Kagome, or what Kikyo’d do if she thought he was getting too close, in the beginning, and for one terrifying second, he wondered if he’d been betrayed.

But the power diminished and, once it was exhausted, the object fell down into the water. The thought vanished from his mind, leaving him with only one concern: how to survive in this situation.

“We can’t let him leave our sight, monk!” the voice hissed angrily above him, further confirming his opponents were unknown.

“Apologies, Sango dearest,” a man said, voice deep and even, “though considering what I hit him with, I doubt he’ll be able to do much when he comes out.”

Did he really believe that? Hah. He wouldn’t know what hit him.

“Yeah, yeah. Just be ready.”

The woman didn’t sound as confident as the man, Inuyasha noted, but he did have the advantage now. They didn’t know where he was, and they thought him to be diminished. He didn’t stop to think about what was going on, or why they were there. All that mattered now was to make use of that advantage, and he intended to do just that.

He darted out of the water in their direction, unable to locate them precisely without his senses.

Everything happened in a second. The air around the pair crackled with reiki, then shattered, and the black-haired man fell back with a grunt, but Inuyasha only had eyes for the woman. His claws were just about to tear into her when the boomerang appeared between them, seemingly out of nowhere. He met her dark eyes, where he didn’t find any particular emotion. No anger, no hatred. Just determination.

He hit the boomerang, and it was like he had just ran into a wall. The force of the impact sent him flying back a few meters. When he landed, he was disoriented, and his entire arm felt numb. He wasn’t too worried abut any injury, but it meant he couldn’t risk getting in contact with her weapon again. That wasn’t good.

She flexed her hands, and he knew she was itching to attack. Still, she wasted precious seconds to glance at her companion.

“Everything okay, Miroku?”

The mask covering her mouth made her voice sound hollow, yet Inuyasha could hear worry breaking through. It left a bitter taste on his tongue. It was easy to imagine the people who hunt him as mindless, emotionless assholes. Knowing they did have those feelings, were capable of concern for others and just— just denied it to him… That was difficult.

The man grunted in reply, pushing himself up with the help of his staff.

“The ofuda should have taken him down,” he commented, panting. “Something’s wrong there, Sango.”

“Not for long,” she replied, narrowing her eyes at Inuyasha.

“I’m not sure—”

But she was running already. And Inuyasha was ready for her.

She swung the boomerang in front of her, and he dodged out of the way, just out of reach. As expected, she lost her balance when the huge weapon didn’t hit him. He grabbed her arm, pulling her forward, and punched, hard, in her stomach. There was a muffled groan and she fell to her knees, propping herself up with the weapon she hadn’t let go of.

Inuyasha wasn’t done. He tore the boomerang out of her hands, throwing it to the side. He noted how heavy for him, and he suspected there was something magical at play, but that was not a consideration he could waste time on right now. With a powerful kick, he threw her back to the man she had come with.

She got up almost immediately, supported by the monk. Clearly, she had fighting experience.

Again. Not good.

“Together,” she said, voice strained with pain.

Without exchanging a word, they charged, and Inuyasha knew he was in deep shit. On their own, he was pretty sure he could take them. Right now, though, even as he got in fighting position, he could see her drawing a dagger, and he knew that between his ofudas and her attacks, he likely wouldn’t stand a chance.

There was only one thing he could think of.

He was about to dig his claws in his chest to draw blood when the ground between him and the pair exploded. Reiki crackled in the air, a feeling that was starting to get a little too familiar — but didn’t hurt him.

“Step back!” Kagome’s voice shouted from behind him.

She was unbelievably relieved when they obeyed her, coughing and raising their hands defensively. Reiki couldn’t have hurt them too bad, but its energy was based on intention, and she certainly intended for it to be an unpleasant experience. Right now, though, all she wanted to do was check on Inuyasha.

She ran to him, heart hammering in her chest, and missed the incredulity in his eyes when her hands cradled his face as she tried to find any injury.

“Are you okay?” she asked.

“K— ‘m fine,” he said, wrapping his fingers around her wrists in a surprisingly gentle motion.

He brought her hands down, but didn’t let go of her wrist. It was small and fragile in his hand, and yet it gave him some— some comfort. Her soft skin, her warmth… He liked it. His jaw tensed when she moved, but when she took his hand in hers, squeezing it briefly, he felt fear draining out of him.

With her by his side, he could take on anything.

He stepped in front of her in a protective manner and glared at the two, who were staring at her in disbelief.

“I’m giving you one chance to get the fuck out of my sight,” he growled.

That was dangerous and stupid. They could tell anyone where he lived, and there was no way that would end well for him — and Kagome. At best, they’d have to move, if she was willing to go through the trouble . At worse, he’d be killed, and she’d go back to the village.

He wondered if that was the worse case scenario for her as well.

“There has been a mistake,” the man said.

The woman nodded, still staring at Kagome. Lifting her hands, she removed the mask, and took a deep breath when it fell off.

“We were told you’d murdered two priestesses,” she stated bluntly, turning her eyes to Inuyasha. “We were here to stop you, but clearly…”

“Don’t know how to make your research?” he mocked her, though the sentence had felt like a punch to the gut.

The woman seemed annoyed, but she still averted her eyes. Shame burned her cheeks. Demon slayers didn’t make that kind of mistake. They were supposed to be better than that, better than all the stupid mercenaries and warrior monks who only acted out of hatred. They only knew how to negotiate with demons, only killed when they had to. The murder of an innocent human was generally the line not to cross. The fact that one priestess was still alive was a pretty big sign that she’d fucked up, but it didn’t mean he was innocent.

“It means you’ve only murdered one priestess,” she bit back. “That’s one too many.”

Inuyasha stepped forward, a mix of anger, pain and tension shooting through his body. In that moment, he wanted nothing more than to tear out the bitch’s throat.

“He didn’t kill Kikyo.”

Kagome’s voice froze him on the spot. The woman’s eyes turned towards her, a deep frown in her expression.

“And how would you know?”

Despite what the man had said, she had done her research. The second priestess, Kagome, the one who had gotten lost in the forest and whose body hadn’t been found, had arrived months after the death of the first one. There was no way for her to have that information.

“Inuyasha told me. I believe him.”

Inuyasha exhaled a shaky breath. Kagome’s words — there was no explaining why they made him feel so much better. He shouldn’t give a fuck whether or not he was believed. Knowing he was telling the truth should have been enough on its own, and yet… And yet they gave him a relief he had never thought he would get.

Sango stared at the priestess as Miroku’s earlier words came back to her. He was correct, something was wrong there. Not just because she was here and alive, but because Inuyasha was clearly a half-demon, and not a demon. A very powerful one, sure, but anyone with any knowledge on demon would have identified him as such.

“May I ask what you’re doing there, Lady Kagome?” Miroku enquired calmly from behind her.

Kagome jumped. She had almost forgotten the woman’s companion, who had only stood there, silently observing for the past few minutes.

“They told you my name?” she asked.

“They did,” he replied with a nod. “They explained to us that you had disappeared in the forest, and that they assumed you had been killed by—” He gestured at Inuyasha. “—by the forest’s god, who they suspected to actually be a demon, but that they had not found a body. We were to bring them your remains back, if we found them.”

Kagome clenched her fists, gripping Inuyasha’s hand as tight as she could, but the half-demon didn’t say anything about it. Her strength was nothing to him, and if it could give her any form of comfort… He was happy to be there for her.

She was shaking with anger when she managed to open her mouth.

“They sacrificed me. They decided that to appease the forest’s god, he needed a— They called me a virgin sacrifice. I can’t imagine they expected me to come back but— Even if they did, why should I?”

Even as she spoke, there was a twinge of guilt in her stomach. Maybe they needed her. There could be people who needed her remedies, her knowledge, people who had no involvement with what had happened to her, who didn’t deserve to die because of those actions.

Inuyasha’s thumb gently stroke her hand twice. The movement was brief, barely perceivable, and when she glanced at him, he wasn’t looking at her.

But it helped. Kagome took a steadying breath, and focused back on the two others. This time, they looked genuinely uncomfortable.

“I’m sorry,” the man said. “We made a mistake in targeting you, and it seems we were fed lies in order to kill you. If you want us to, we can take you back to the village. We can make sure something like that will never happen to you again.”

Kagome didn’t have to think before she shook her head.

“I don’t want to go back,” she said.

Her voice somewhat lacked resolve, some of her doubts permeating through it, but it was her decision nonetheless. She wasn’t changing her mind. Not yet.

“I don’t like what’s going on here,” the woman commented. “Your name is Inuyasha?”

“Got a problem with it?”

“Why would that first priestess say you’d killed her if you didn’t?”

Inuyasha removed his hand from Kagome’s to ball it into a fist. There was no way the woman knew anything about him and Kikyo. She couldn’t know that he’d sooner take a reiki shot through the heart than to think about it, or that he would have died a thousand times before laying a finger on her. She hadn’t said it to hurt him.

It still felt like someone had replaced his blood with ice.

“How should I know?”

He’d tried to sound angry, uncaring, biting, but his mouth was dry and it hurt to speak. Kagome gave him a worried look and her heart squeezed in her chest. Inuyasha shut down whenever she tried to bring Kikyo up, but she knew how much pain it brought to him, and she hated it. He had helped her so much since she’d arrived — she wanted to be able to share his burden, to help him, even if only a little.

“She’s not wrong,” she said softly. “There is something weird here. It makes no sense that they would call you after sacrificing me. If the goal was to get rid of Inuyasha— why wouldn’t they do it sooner? They didn’t have a priestess for months.”

The woman nodded.

“My thoughts exactly. Did you notice anything suspicious while you were there?”

Behind her, Miroku grinned. Unlike him, Sango was always straight to the point, hated any unnecessary nonsense when she was working. He found it to be extremely endearing.

Kagome shook her head in reply.

“I wasn’t there very long. I can’t imagine much gets past Mo, so start with him, maybe? I thought we got along fine, but in the end—”

She cleared her throat. She didn’t like to think about that night.

“Thank you,” the slayer said. “We will.”

Sango didn’t add anything, but she did promise herself that she would get to the bottom of this. She didn’t have much to go on yet, but her instincts were screaming at her. They were telling her that Kagome was right, that Inuyasha hadn’t killed Kikyo, and they were telling her that she had fucked up here. Badly. She knew she wouldn’t be comfortable with herself until she had made things right.

“It was an impressive shot you took back then,” Miroku said, voice light, and it was like weight fell off her shoulders. She often complained about his small talk, but sometimes, when her thoughts were that dark, she was so thankful for it. In those moments, she felt that the good things about him definitely outweighed the bad. “A reiki shot that precise without a bow and arrow, and with a demon standing in the way… That was good.”

Kagome let out a tense chuckle.

“Thank you. I didn’t think much about it. I could feel you charging your ofudas, and even if Inuyasha’s a half-demon, I thought— I thought it was the only thing to do.”

“Quick thinking,” he complimented her. “I cannot believe I have failed to introduce myself. I am Miroku.”

“Kagome,” she smiled. “But you know that already.”

Much to her surprise, Miroku grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips.

“Lady Kagome,” he said, “it is an absolute pleasure to meet you. If I may, you look simply divine and—”

A low growl started coming out of Inuyasha’s throat just as Sango smack the back of his head with her boomerang.

“Hands off,” Inuyasha snarled.

“Sorry about that,” the slayer said, pulling Miroku back. “I’m Sango, by the way. We’ll let you know if we find out anything. And— Sorry about… All of that. The Hiraikotsu,” she tapped her weapon, “shouldn’t leave lasting damage.”

“Can I not at least say goodbye to the wonderful Lady Kagome?” Miroku protested weakly.

“Fuck off,” Inuyasha growled.

Sango didn’t even bother trying to reply, simply dragging him behind her.

“C’mon, monk. Let’s find out what’s wrong in this village.”

Neither Inuyasha nor Kagome moved until the two were out of sight. When they finally disappeared, Kagome let out a long breath.

“Are you hurt?” she asked, turning to face Inuyasha.

He looked away. Having so much of her attention on him, it made him feel— weird. Not necessarily in a bad way, but he still didn’t know how to handle it.

“’m good.”

“She said her weapon shouldn’t cause lasting damage, so clearly, you’ve been—”

“Drop it.”

“Just let me help, Inuyasha, I can—”

“I said I’m fine, dammit! Why would you care so much anyway?”

“Because I’m worried about you!” Kagome snapped. “You were attacked! They were teaming up on you when I arrived, and if we hadn’t managed to— to talk to them I don’t know what—”

She interrupted herself to swallow back her tears. In front of her, Inuyasha had gone completely still, ears pinned back against his skull, his fight or flight reflex activating. He wanted nothing more than to run away so he wouldn’t have to deal with her tears.

Shit. Shitshitshitshit. She was crying. Or, well, almost crying. He could smell the salty scent, and for some reason, it absolutely horrified him.

“Hey,” he said, reaching out awkwardly to put his hand on her shoulder. “I told ya. I’m fine. I just hit her— thing, and my arm felt weird, but it’s all back to normal now, ‘kay? ‘m good. You don’t need to worry ‘bout me.”

Even if  the feeling was… surprisingly nice, now that he thought about it.

Kagome sniffed and nodded, but didn’t meet his eyes. All the emotions she’d forced down earlier in order to help him were surfacing, and there were a lot of those.

“I heard you scream,” she whispered. “And then when I arrived, you were fighting with them, and I was still on the cliff, and there was nothing I could do, and I kept thinking ‘what if I—‘”

“Y’need to breathe.”

She tried to glare at him, but it wasn’t very efficient what with the red eyes. Still, she did as he said. It wouldn’t do them any good if she fainted or something like that.

“I swear,” he repeated, “’m fine. I’ve been here a while, and it wasn’t my first fight. I think I could have taken them even if you hadn’t shown.” He gave her a smug grin. “They really were no match for me.”

He had hoped she would roll her eyes and tell him he was too arrogant, that he needed to stop bragging, but instead, she smiled.

“That’s good to know. I’m happy it was resolved without anyone dying or being severely injured, though.”

Yeah, something told him she wouldn’t have liked that his last resort attack included using his blood as a weapon. Welp, good for everybody that he hadn’t needed to do that.

“I guess you helped a little for that.”

Kagome let out a soft chuckle, and damn, it was good to hear after all this fear and tension. After he’d smelled her tears.

“Been thinking, though. Your reiki… didn’t hurt me.”

“I hoped it wouldn’t,” she said. “I hadn’t tried anything like that before but that energy… It reacts to what you want. And I didn’t want it to hurt you.”

She doubted it would have worked as efficiently had she been trying to hurt another demon, but here, she had felt it would be fine. Apparently, she had been right.

She didn’t notice the way Inuyasha looked at her. He would have understood if she had told him she just wanted to break up the fight and that she expected him to be collateral damage. It would have hurt, but he’d have understood. Instead, she had now cried for him and she had stopped her reiki just because she wanted to.

Fuck.

“It looks like I’m really going to need to practice without a bow, though,” she sighed. “I guess I’ll try that tomorrow.”

He hadn’t missed her earlier reserve about going back, but the way she talked to him— it sounded like she was definitely staying. It shouldn’t have made him happy.

It did.

“I can help ya with that. I could catch small demons for you to train on.”

“What? No! I don’t want to do that!”

“You could try on me then. Use me as your target and just will your reiki not to hurt me.”

“Are you insane? That’s way too dangerous!”

He grinned. She wasn’t amused, he could tell, but this was… fun. He liked teasing her. She made it so easy and her reactions were— they were damn cute.

“’s only dangerous if you hit me. Not sure you can.”

“You’re not going to bait me into shooting at you, Inuyasha.”

She was smiling now, and it was easy, simple, light. It had been a long long time since he’d last felt like that. An eternity. Deep down, a voice told him that he should keep her at arms length, just in case she changed her mind at some point and decided to leave, but he buried it. For once in his life, he wanted to just enjoy the moment instead of expecting the worst. When he managed to get the voice to shut up, it immediately felt like the sun shone brighter, warmer.

It still wasn’t as dazzling as Kagome’s smile.

“Are you sure you want to investigate the situation more?” Miroku asked, lifting an eyebrow. “We don’t owe them anything, and I do not think we will get paid for this. We could just leave.”

Sango shook her head. Miroku’s proposition was tempting, she’d give him that, but it was also the easy way out. It was not the path she chose to walk.

“We almost murdered an innocent man,” she replied. “We don’t do that, and I won’t have people telling those stories about my family. We need to make this right.”

Miroku let out a long sigh. He didn’t worry about those things. He, personally, had no problem telling someone their house was haunted in order to get a good night of sleep there, all expenses paid. Sango, on the other hand, refused to let that slide, and always insisted to pay their host. He could appreciate that in her but sometimes, she was just trying too hard. She didn’t need to carry everything on her shoulders. Life could get much easier, much more fun, if she’d only let it.

“You don’t have to stay, though,” she said. “You can go back to the village, and I’ll meet you there once I’m done. I know this isn’t your favorite thing.”

Miroku didn’t even consider it.

“I’m staying with you.”

“Thanks,” she replied, a smile in her voice.

Miroku’s eyes softened, in a way they never did. As always when that happened, though, Sango wasn’t looking at him, and she had no idea he was showing such emotions.

“Anything,” he replied softly.

And he meant it.

#inuyasha #kagome #inukag #inukag week #mirsan #my writing #out of the woods

[xlady-saya]

I want this touch to be familiar [fic]

Relationships: andrew/neil, side aaron/katelyn

Summary: Deep down, Andrew knew he would always reach this crossroads, a time where the thought became too strong to ignore.

Going all the way with Neil. It's not something he can continue to avoid thinking about. When Andrew looks back to the days where he held Neil's hands down, when he never got off with him in the same room, he's forced to acknowledge how much he's allowed.

Not allowed. Welcomed. Wanted.

But that’s not all there is to it, and the desire to make a decision finally makes itself known.

Tags: first time fic, p*rn with feelings, relationship study, fluff and communication, multichapter 

Read on ao3! 

They're having a movie night when the idea sinks its hooks into Andrew's brain. He’s not blaming the Foxes, but their bad choices in films is the catalyst to a milestone Andrew didn’t think he’d have to deal with so soon.

In a swift motion, he brings the hand that's not on Neil's thigh to itch at the back of his own skull, unsettled. He almost thinks he should ban himself from these get togethers, if only to avoid these ideas from taking root. Though, if he's being more honest with himself for once, he'll admit it's not the first time it crossed his mind.

It's possible that's the problem entirely.

No, this idea is more comparable to a mosquito, swarming around in his head and beating against the grooves at random points in the day. It's so powerful, so persistent, it's like this one mosquito is a whole swarm, poking around the ridges in an indecisive process to figure out where it finally wants to dig in.

The movie night is just the point in which it finally latches on and doesn't let go.

It's a predictable action film; Andrew doesn't understand why every director in Hollywood keeps trying to recreate James Bond, but he stopped caring about the movie two minutes in. Neil is boneless and relaxed from the shower they shared after practice, fingers drumming beats against Andrew's wrists while his brow furrows at the film. It has enough explosions and suspense to keep Neil somewhat entertained, though Andrew suspects the focus is mostly due to Neil trying to pick apart the inaccuracies of it all.

Most of the time, Neil ends up staring at Andrew for a majority of the film. Andrew finds it easier to not mind in the darkness, where he can feel the brightness in Neil's eyes instead of actually seeing it.

Essentially, this is the only reason he comes to movie nights.

He's almost at the point where he's ready to ignore the thing completely, along with the Foxes’ scathing commentary, but then the scene comes on.

It's not hard to see coming, but as crude and rough as the Foxes are, their movies don't often include sex scenes. Andrew isn't usually bothered by this type of thing, but it does nothing for him. He's neither repulsed or intrigued; the man isn't his type (or Neil, his brain says, unhelpfully), and the scene isn't aggressive enough to feel like assault.

No anger or heat surges under his skin as the slow orchestra plays, the woman's dress falling to the floor in what he's sure is supposed to be a good shot but has been so overdone it's pointless. Suddenly there's skin, and chests, and the actress' loud gasps turn into louder moans.

It's obnoxious, how fake it sounds, the camera angle cutting to show just enough in between movements.

"Ughhh," Nicky groans, and Allison turns to give him a look. Nicky sags in his chair even further just to spite her, almost falling out of it. "Why do they always do this? I don't need to see two straight white people suck face and bone in every movie! What is this doing for the plot?"

Aaron's head perks up, and he pauses his mid mouthful of those stupid chips Katelyn got him. "What's wrong with straight white people?"

"Everything."

Matt raises his third beer of the night. "Cheers bro, I'll drink to that."

Aaron looks to the wall, as if it will offer him anything better than his current company.

Andrew's eyes fly back to the television, right at the moment the hero slots himself between the actress' legs.

The swarm in his head digs in.

Andrew's hands tighten in the couch cushion, but he keeps the hand on Neil's thigh steady so he won't notice. Neil can be so perceptive when he wants to be, when it comes to Andrew specifically. It's infuriating, sometimes. Andrew never asked to be known so well, yet here they are.

Neil cracks a smile at Nicky and Aaron's fighting, more fond of it now than anything, and Andrew tracks the curve of it with his eyes. On screen, the spy starts thrusting.

"It's romantic!" Allison counters Nicky's claims, and he chucks a pillow at her with a surprising amount of force. Some of the feathers float out.

"They met not even a day ago!"

Aaron's chips are forgotten, which is about as serious as his brother gets nowadays. "I think you've hooked up with dudes you've met within an hour, you asshole."

"This ain't about me."

It's at this point Neil decides to speak, his brow arching in a way Andrew is pretty sure he didn't do prior to starting their this. Andrew's eyes fly up to catch it, and he realizes he'd been admiring the slope of Neil's neck, the discoloration where his hair meets his nape. "Honestly Nicky, what right do you have to talk about plot? Didn't you make us watch that terrible beach movie last week just because you liked the actor?"

Off to the side, where they're trying to become siamese twins, Dan and Matt chime in with some 'ooo's and air horn noises. They’re loud enough to startle Kevin from whatever he’s texting Thea about, and Allison’s cackle follows. Renee’s smile has a slight sharpness to it, the evillest she can look nowadays.

Andrew can't be bothered by the antics; his focus keeps returning to the movie, and the fact is nearly enough to startle him. But he stays still, calm, and doesn't give anything away. It's the best defense he has for the war about to rage inside him. His mind, two seconds from overdrive.

"Et tu Neil?" Nicky sniffs, and then the actress has some kind of orgasm, since she makes a noise akin to a dying bird.

And, because when is it ever about the love interest, the man keeps going, chasing his own release. Andrew's throat feels scratchy.

Andrew spares a look at Neil's face, and finds the striker's attention divided between the screen and Nicky's ramblings. Andrew doesn't care about whatever Neil says in return, he's too set on the slide of Neil's tongue over his bottom lip, the heat of his skin under his palm. Andrew moves his hand more towards Neil's inner thigh, and his breath hitches when Neil's legs widen on instinct for him.

The idiot isn't even aware of it.

Andrew would only need to slide his hand deeper to graze the place where he and Neil could be connected, as close as they can get. He'd be able to work Neil open, savor the twitch of Neil's hips.

Neil is mouthy enough in bed with how they do things now. Would he be louder? Uncontained?

Andrew allows himself to watch the rest of the scene play out on screen, the two rehearsed 'rough' thrusts, the groan of pleasure. But this time, it's hard to be disinterested. It's hard to not let his mind, so gifted with spinning fantasies on account of his cursed memory, put him in the spy's place.

What would Neil feel like, he wonders. Tight and warm probably, strong legs locking around Andrew's hips until his ankles are crossed and knocking against his lower back. Neil can get so greedy sometimes, even with his obnoxiously high consideration for Andrew's boundaries. When he's allowed to take, he's desperate about it.

Would Neil let him go that far? No, would he want to?

Does he want--

Andrew stops the train of thought there, but doesn't cut the journey short. He has no choice but to be stuck here now, and thus, Andrew can no longer swat the idea away like the pest it is.

Going all the way with Neil. It's not something he could avoid thinking about after a certain point. When Andrew looks back to the days where he held Neil's hands down, when he never got off with him in the same room, he's forced to acknowledge how much he's allowed.

Not allowed. Welcomed. Wanted.

Bile rises in his throat on instinct, and he squashes it down. Sex with Neil is not something he needs to feel terrible about, and he doesn't. It feels the opposite of terrible, and Andrew hasn't worked through all those troublesome thoughts yet. He can't pin a label to it.

He remembers when jerking off in the shower, mouth pressed to Neil's, had felt like a huge thing to give. Now it wouldn't be enough.

Neil touches him now, Andrew asks him to touch. He's used to Neil's weight on top of him and his hands sliding suggestively over his abs, his biceps. His hands are used to resting comfortably over the curve of Neil's ass, grinding against him.

And it hasn’t stopped there. He's had Neil's mouth on him, his blue eyes on every part of him as the striker sucked him off after a particularly good game.

Andrew had shut down the goal, and the look in Neil's eyes had made him feel far too much. Overwhelming, dizzying.

So they'd taken the next step, not without hiccups, not without caution, but they'd done it.

And that's the thing with Neil; once they cross a certain line, it's a snowball effect. They're incapable of going back.

Neil blew him then for the first time and suddenly Andrew couldn't get the image out of his head, Neil's lips around his cock, trying to adjust to get the best reactions out of Andrew, to make it feel good.

Neil, so stupidly determined about everything he does.

And Andrew, the fool he is, got used to it. He never expected it, because routine was not a yes, and some days he preferred to not be touched at all.

But now, when Neil sinks to his knees or asks to jerk Andrew off, the initial anxiety Andrew might've felt months prior isn't there. It's been burned away into something more concerning, addictive.

Because Neil will stop if he needs him to.

So, Andrew let go, and the floodgates opened.

Shared handjobs turned into frequent blowjobs, which turned into heavy petting without clothes. Andrew feels stripped down, raw, with how much trust he's given this single person.

Every now and again, he searches deep in his soul for some ounce of disgust, regret for any of it, and it makes him angry to find none.

The only thing that does make him angry is how good it feels, a natural reaction Andrew can’t just drop cold turkey. Yet, his body doesn't just enjoy the progressions he and Neil have made together, so does his mind.

Again, he derails the train there, not willing to admit it, and returns to the thought of plowing Neil into their mattress.

It was only a matter of time before he ended up at this crossroads, only so far he and Neil could go before reaching the logical 'next step.'

But, it doesn't have to be a step at all if Neil decides against it. If Neil doesn't want to, they won't. The itch in Andrew's brain is mostly due to the fact they haven't discussed it. He has no idea how Neil feels, if he even thinks about it in the way Andrew does.

There hasn't been time, but Andrew knows if he's reached this point he has to bring it up.

He's not afraid to; he and Neil aren't like that. It's about framing it in a way Neil's exy-only brain won't read into it wrong.

He needs Neil to be able to say no if that's what he needs, he doesn't want to imply he wants this from Neil, that there's a pressure to take it there. Because as stubborn and rebellious as Neil can be, unwilling to be pushed around, Andrew is a weakness.

So, Andrew won't accept anything from him other than the absolute truth. 'Always' doesn't exist with things like this.

The movie turns back into a mindless explosion show while the fantasy in Andrew's brain is paused, mostly because indulging in it feels wrong at this point. If it's something that'll never happen, there's no point letting it play.

What he already does with Neil is enough, more than enough. Andrew never thought he'd ever be like this with anyone, and he's still not used to it. His pleasure during sex came from control in the past, on being able to dictate how it all went, to touch without being touched and have the person like it.

Neil turns everything upside down; where control once stood undefeated, something else sits, unmovable. White-hot, blinding desire.

A danger, unacceptable.

Andrew's eyes rest back on Neil and the heat coiling in his abdomen subsides, softened by the unruliness of Neil's bangs and the glow against his cheek. That's another problem too, about Neil. Desire isn't alone.

But, Andrew sets that issue aside for now.

Feeling Andrew's pensiveness, Neil turns his head, blinking so slow Andrew can see the flutter of his lashes. He nearly pushes his face away.

He's not sure what Neil sees in his analysis; Andrew knows he can't read minds, but it's unsettling and calming all at once to watch him trace the wrinkles in Andrew's face. He asks himself if maybe Neil can feel the itch too.

Neil hooks his fingers over Andrew's lightly, and Andrew realizes all too late how tight his grip on Neil's thigh had gotten.

"Okay?" Neil asks, and fuck him for doing so, for catching Andrew slip. He curses himself for slipping at all, or maybe the better term is falling.

Andrew taps Neil's hand once, twice, three times, and squashes the urge to kiss him.

"Yes," he says, and it's not a lie.

It's not a lie, and he doesn't have the energy to think about why that is. He just knows that soon, it will become a bigger problem. He puts it to rest.

Instead, he watches Neil nod and smile, and when Andrew finally turns back to the television, his brain gets to work on the words he needs to say, and knowing how they’ll probably come up short.

--

Andrew's mind is a vault mechanism. When one part of the lock is cracked, there's usually another waiting behind it.

He hasn't realized it yet though, couldn't possibly, with Neil rutting in his lap.

Andrew grunts as his nails dig into Neil's hips, where the brunet's sweatpants are dipping dangerously lower by the minute, a consequence of the force of their dry humping.

He's not quite sure how they got this carried away in the span of ten minutes, but all Andrew knew then was this wasn't a bad day, this was a day where Neil could pin Andrew to the couch without consequence.

So he let him.

Neil is shirtless, scars on display along with hard nipples and a twitching abdomen, the heat building and building.

Because of Andrew.

The position should feel stupid, immature, maybe even high school, but Andrew's brain is swimming with a pleasure comparable to nicotine.

It's nothing he thought he'd feel before, because the weight of someone on him never used to lead to good things.

"Fuck," Neil breathes, hips stuttering against Andrew's and wiping the dangerous path away before Andrew can even take a step towards it. Neil gives a rough jerk, barely able to fight Andrew's grip, but he prefers when Neil works for it. He doesn't let up, because he knows the striker is nothing but determined.

Neil whines, surging forward to pant into Andrew's mouth. He growls; part of him was enjoying the show and doesn't appreciate the interruption. The other part of him can't get enough of Neil's mouth, the wicked tongue pulling his out and sucking on it like it's another part of Andrew's body.

Neil is always so scatterbrained; he'd do it all if he could.

Andrew's breathing comes out heavy, wet, and they've fallen out of position quite a few times as a result of their desperation. Neil's clothed cock is barely grazing Andrew's now, but he doesn't have the will to stop Neil from moving so fast, so needy. There's a small wet spot forming against Andrew's pant leg, and he watches Neil fight to keep his head from lolling back from the dizziness of it.

It makes something smug burn through Andrew's chest, seeing Neil sigh and whisper incoherent nothings which don't amount to much more than 'yes' and 'more, Andrew, more.'

Andrew leans back into the couch cushions and bucks up, earning him a sound so Neil he can't take it. It's a cross between a gasp and a groan, devolving into another string of curses. At this point, Neil's pants are low enough to reveal the coarse hair of his groin, the criss crossing scars almost as tantalizing as the hardness pressing against Andrew's leg.

Andrew suddenly doesn't have enough hands. He's torn between pressing his palm over the scars, keeping Neil under his grip, or digging into Neil's hair to expose the column of his throat.

This is why this kind of thing can still get a bit overwhelming, but not in a discomforting way like it used to.

It's still fairly new, the dry humping. At first, it had started as slow and experimental grinding in the morning, Neil pressed up against Andrew's front while he rocked forward. The first time, Andrew had to stop, too taken by the newness of it, the unfamiliarity.

He hadn't had time to really pick it apart and think about why he was doing it or if it made him anything like them. If pressing Neil down and chasing his own relief didn't reveal something uglier about him.

By that point, he'd had Neil's hands on him on a regular basis, jerking him off and pulling him into his throat. Those things were becoming less daunting.

He's used to letting Neil get him off now, to getting off in front of him with his own hand. It's just...this is so much more shared, intense. Andrew isn't quite used to it, but the movie night sits heavy in the back of his head still, and he thinks it might make a little more sense now.

The process to get here had been the same, a slow evolution; they'd use grinding as a means to get worked up, to cause friction before moving onto blow jobs or heavy makeouts. It turned into a thing when Andrew didn't have the patience to separate from Neil for even a moment. Humiliating, but in the heat of the moment he hadn't thought twice. He remembered asking for his yes between biting kisses before humping Neil into their bed, and when he came, the rush had been blinding. The heat running through his veins carried all through his spine and down to his toes, intensified even more by Neil's body jerking against his.

Close, intimate.

And so very, very close to the real thing.

Before that thought threatens to ruin everything, Andrew bucks up again and Neil's moan blocks the path again.

Andrew is so hard it's painful.

Before Neil can press down in kind, Andrew tightens his hold until Neil can do little more than squirm, leaving them stuck like that, with Neil's hands making a mess of Andrew's hair and unable to give them the sweet friction. Andrew rubs circles into Neil's hip bones until he hears the sigh he's looking for.

Watching Neil blink, eyes blown wide in a desire fueled haze, makes Andrew lick his lips in anticipation.

Neil blinks down at Andrew, not really seeing, breath stuttering as he fights the grip. "H-hey--"

"Hey," Andrew replies, feigning innocence. It's not effective, when one of his hands snakes around to Neil's back, looking for any trace of discomfort or even a silent 'no.' When he finds nothing but want, he presses his fingers down onto Neil's lower back to force him forward. Neil's back arches like a cat, like Andrew pulls all the strings. "Move up."

Neil exhales shakily as he shifts, legs spreading and putting him back to where they initially started. Andrew takes the time to rid himself of his jacket, way too warm, and unzips his jeans to help the tightness.

Neil's gaze flies to the prominent bulge under Andrew's boxers instantly.

"Right there," Andrew says with his hands back on Neil's ass, squeezing the muscled flesh greedily and trying hard to avoid the thought of spreading him open like this. He aligns Neil so their cocks are settled against each other again. It's a struggle for them to stay still; Neil leans forward so Andrew's neck muffles most of his groan, and sucks on his pale skin. Andrew's voice is nothing short of strained when it comes out. "That's it."

Neil smiles when he pulls back, and Andrew has to look away. Idiot, always so pleased with proof of Andrew's unraveling. "Can I--"

"Yes," Andrew growls, and he meets Neil halfway. One hand flies to the back of Neil's neck, digging into the hair at his nape to pull him close again. His skin is scorching to the touch.

Neil doesn't hesitate. His hips move fast as his hands dig into Andrew's biceps, intent on chasing the orgasm for both of them. Small, jagged whimpers leave his mouth with every thrust, his cock brushing right against Andrew's. Neil is practically bouncing, and it doesn't take long for Andrew to realize he's moving too, just as fast, just as rough. The head of his cock pokes out of the slit in his underwear, smearing precum on Neil's pants.

"Oh fuck, fuck," Neil moans at the same time Andrew starts grunting with each jerk of his body, unconcerned with the volume. If anyone knows what's good for them, they won't be back early. Andrew's vision starts to blur, his movements less coordinated, breathing loud. He's close, so close and the heat pooling in his abdomen makes his head swim.

It should unnerve him, this lack of control, this animalistic urge to keep going, take and take. But Neil looks the farthest from afraid above him; he's matching Andrew in his entirety, grunting loudly and rotating his hips in just the right way for them to feel every inch of each other. His hands are dutifully clutching Andrew's shoulders, unwilling to move. Because Neil knows, he knows this is Andrew's most vulnerable moment, seconds from orgasm. No matter how close to the edge they are, Neil won't risk Andrew's discomfort, he won't let Andrew's pleasure be overridden by shock or the disregard for his boundaries.

Andrew hates him, he hates how Neil is the only one who will ever make him feel this way, because now no one else is good enough.

In more ways than sex.

Andrew snarls from the anger of it all, from how inaccurate it feels to call it that. He brings a hand up to wipe the sweat off Neil's brow, pushing aside his bangs so he can see those eyes for all they are, the ring of blue a bottomless pool Andrew no longer tries to escape.

Neil's mouth falls open from whatever look is on Andrew's face, and he's no longer able to keep his eyes open, throwing his head back as his orgasm rips through him. He trembles in Andrew's arms, and Andrew feels the warmth of Neil's cum against his cock, even through his sweats.

Andrew's arms lock around Neil's waist as he thrusts up harshly, and in the last split second before he comes, he imagines they're not just dry humping like dogs in heat. He allows himself to imagine he's inside Neil, that they're as close as they can possibly be, and it makes Neil feel good instead of pained.

Andrew comes, but it's with an unexpected dose of shame. Despite that, he comes hard. It's full body, enough to make his shoulders shake, his breath hitch. It's that same tingling sensation running over him, stronger at the points where he and Neil touch.

It doesn't make sense to him.

He hadn't meant to let his brain go there, to let the fantasy rear its ugly head again, but it had felt so...

He didn't have the right to think about it without Neil's yes, not in this case. Because it means some fucked up part of him craves it, needs to take it.

He won't, he won't do that. He knows he won't, but then why does it make his stomach swirl?

Andrew sighs before going rigid, and Neil must take it as his cue to separate. That's one thing which hasn't really changed, Andrew's need for space. It's gotten better, he can normally stay pressed against Neil for ten or so minutes, and it's weirdly comfortable. However, eventually his brain will begin to overthink or itch with a need for room, and he'll have to push away.

This immediate stiffness is unusual though, and Neil catches it so fast Andrew should feel vulnerable about it.

Neil goes still as soon as he senses something is off, and removes his weight from Andrew in a blink. He's never seen Neil move so fast away from him, not out of fear, but concern.

Neil is mistaken here though; he's not the one who's done something wrong.

Neil puts as much distance between them on the couch as he can, bringing his knees to his chest and only grimacing at the wet squelch of his pants.

His chest is still heaving, and part of Andrew finds excitement in that. He made Neil feel good, it's proven by his mussed up hair and swollen lips, the high blush. Neil waits, eyes scanning the lines of tension in Andrew's body, the soft parts of his face.

Andrew watches him for a long time as he thinks, trying to find evidence he's right, that he took it too far. Neil can't read his thoughts, but for a moment Andrew worries he can.

Did he feel it, Andrew's body claiming him, using him in a way Neil maybe has never thought of?

Andrew glares, but he knows Neil will be able to tell it's not at him.

Andrew is usually able to begin the long dissection of these issues in his own head, revealing the threads he can offer to Bee to pull at and untangle into something more manageable. But right now, he's at a loss.

They sit like that so long their breathing evens out, and only at that point does Neil reach out. He extends his hand forward, not commanding, but offering. Yes or no. "Andrew?"

Shit.

He hasn't moved in minutes. Time is never something he managed well in his head, always pulling him back to the past in a blink while the future pulled apart like dust, disintegrating before taking a full shape. He inhales shakily; Andrew hates to show so much, but this is Neil. They're alone. He scrubs a hand over his face in frustration, trying to bring it back to its blank state before he reaches out to pull Neil closer.

They're still not touching anywhere else, Andrew can't handle that yet, but it's enough of an acquiescence for Neil to understand the problem isn't him.

He moves to the cushion next to Andrew, his bare feet settling against the carpet as he waits for Andrew to say something.

And well, this is where he brings it up. There's no point in waiting, beating around the bush is useless and pointless and not something they're capable of doing.

Andrew's words come out blunt as ever as he stares into nothingness. "Before I came I thought about fucking you."

The harshness of the words, and how removed they are from any emotion should probably make any normal person flinch. Neil isn't just anyone.

Neil, for all his usual drama, doesn't react to that, and Andrew feels the ghost of relief. Once, Neil told Andrew his lack of reaction to otherwise terrible events made Neil feel better about them. Andrew hadn't really understood, but now he just might be seeing the logic.

Neil's gaze on him during their vulnerable moments typically makes Andrew want to jump out of his skin, far too exposed, but with this it's less difficult to plow forward. Neil stares at Andrew, as blank as he can manage, while still letting the curiosity furrow his brow.

Andrew wants to wipe off the sweat there.

He cracks his knuckles, mulling over the words and trying to find a way to say them where he won't have to admit too much. Unfortunately, it's impossible.

He scowls at the coffee table as he speaks, like the words are vile. "I've been thinking about it a lot lately. I haven't been able to stop."

Why can't he stop?

Because part of him can't help himself, is that it? He can't control himself, even after years and years of limiting every possible stimuli so he could.

If he sounds angry it's because he is; how dare Neil push him this far, so unintentionally. Yet even then, Andrew knows the blame is all on him. The irritated tremble in his voice should not fucking be there, just like the thoughts shouldn't be. He shouldn't have given ground enough to make such a confession, to make Neil think he's torn up and ugly.

Andrew should be a blank slate, but Neil is chips in the stone, splashes of paint which Andrew cannot scrub off.

He told Neil what he's always told Neil: the honest version of how he feels, even if he wishes he felt nothing.

Long before the movie night, long before he cares to remember, and he    remembers everything, he's thought of slotting their bodies together, of pulling Neil impossibly close so they're intertwined in every way.

At Andrew's aggravated scowl, Neil finally chooses to speak. The confusion is more obvious on his features now, the ring of blue reappearing and threatening to wash Andrew in waves.

"You don't have to stop," Neil says, like it's the simplest damn thing in the world.

What the hell does he know? He's not in Andrew's head, he's not--

"Neil--" Andrew almost growls, a warning Neil should be all too familiar with. Stop while you're ahead.

Neil is a very bad listener, with a short fuse to match.

"I think about it," the striker bites out quickly, almost challenging. Those blue eyes widen with the admission, rocking on the balls of his feet. Andrew's entire body freezes up, hell the world might have stopped for all he cares. Even Neil bites down on his bottom lip, as if to cut the words off, before realizing how stupid that would be. He knows how Andrew feels about regret, and he's not lying in this moment. Andrew would be able to tell. A few seconds of quiet pass, they hear some muffled music through the windows. Neil's voice is a silky whisper to his ears, despite how cracked it sounds. "I think about it too. So...there, stop putting this just on you. I think about it a lot so, you don't have to do...that."

It's so stupid, how Neil can remain so interesting even when Andrew's feeling this on edge. It's a welcome distraction for a second, before the words really sink in.

Neil thinks about it.

Viciously, Andrew steps on the small slug which resembles hope as it crawls through his brain. He ignores the mess in his pants as he turns to face Neil, sitting cross-legged on the couch.

Andrew raises a brow, daring Neil to elaborate on the that he's referring to.

"Hide it so I don't have to know," Neil supplies, waving his hand in the air. "Shoulder it all yourself like you always do. This way I've made it both of our problem."

Neil winces, no doubt scolding himself for the poor choice of words.

Andrew's face is back to a blank slate. "A problem, is it?"

That's certainly how he saw it, but having Neil echo the sentiment makes him feel more, which would be terrible enough, but the feeling isn't even good.

Neil's gaze is a freshly sharpened blade. "No. Not to me," Neil says, firm. "You know we don't have to, but--"

"But you think about it," Andrew echoes, unable to help it. The coils he tries to wrap around the realization are slippery and can't get a grip, so he repeats it. Neil thinks about it, the desire is shared.

What is he supposed to do with that information now? One step forward, two steps...somewhere.

Neil swallows, and the redness on his cheeks is oh so appealing to even Andrew's hazy mind.

Neil thinks about it.

But that doesn't mean they can just...do it. Andrew doesn't know if he can; the disconnect between what his body wants and what his brain can manage is a minefield and he's never wanted to scratch at gray matter so badly.

Briefly, he understands why Aaron values normalcy so much. Normalcy would allow Andrew to just be the horny college student he could've been, instead of having to deal with all these speed bumps and cones in the road to get to the ultimate goal. And even if he were to get there, there's a big chance he'd decide it's better to turn back around to prevent a crash.

But he is not Aaron, and he does not value normalcy.

He values--

"I do," Neil states, so understanding, and maybe a little flustered. Flustered, not scared, not unsure. "I like doing that stuff with you Andrew, but how it is now is good, more than good. Hell, that was so...wow. You know I've never felt this towards someone."

Neil's smile is so far away from what Andrew can handle he has to ruin it.

"Horny?" He says, and hates how even when he's deflecting the thought sends a shiver through him. The thought of Neil only wanting him, only giving himself to him. Andrew squashes the possessiveness, uncomfortable.

Neil gives him a look for that, but isn't deterred. "Technically yes, but you know what I mean."

Unfortunately he does, but that's even more uncomfortable to think about than the physical desire. Neil has never been shy about his feelings for Andrew, not since Andrew actually acknowledged their this and showed how he was going to make zero moves to push Neil away. Even if Neil did hold back his bluntness, he gives Andrew those fucking looks like he's the most amazing thing he's ever laid eyes on, not some delinquent with a crooked nose and a hostile disposition.

And still that can't be it. Neil's desire, like his feelings, are so intense they can't possibly be fake. The eagerness, the desperation with which he receives Andrew's advances...it's not the issue. Neil is trying to tell Andrew he doesn't need to feel pressured, like Andrew doesn't already know that.

He thinks he's getting closer to what his real problem is with it, but it's just out of reach. It's a shared desire, he checks that off. Neil thinks about it, another check. And Andrew...

No matter how he tries to kick it aside he wants it. His body craves it and his mind can't let it go. He wants and it's so nauseating in how it's not, instead it's light and tender and all things he is not supposed to be.

So, where is the issue? It's him, it's--

"Stop avoiding the truth," Neil says, and when Andrew looks back at him those pale blue eyes are intense, almost deadly. They pry Andrew apart, flaying the flesh from bones and seeing the rawness inside, like Neil has managed to pin down the anxious animal inside him with talons sharp as knives.

The words 'shut up' die on his tongue; what truth? What can Neil see that he can't?

Andrew doesn't have fears. He briefly entertains the idea that what bothers him is the fact Neil thinks about it and that means one day he'll really want it and won't be able to hold the urge back. If Andrew can't give it to him, if he decides he can't go through with this, Neil will be like everyone else, just someone who wants more than Andrew can offer. Then he'll leave.

But Andrew doesn't fear. And it would be stupid to fear; anyone who would leave for something like that simply isn't worth the time of day. Yet...yet...

Andrew thinks of life without Neil, and he remembers emptiness crashing down, an empty stadium, and true darkness.

Frustrated beyond all reason, Andrew retreats into the bedroom to change into clean underwear and sweats. There are no footsteps behind him, no annoyed sighs or disappointment in his wake. He hates how Neil knows how long he needs before following, how trusting he is, because he changes right in front of Andrew a few moments later, needing no boundary.

"There's no 'truth' in this to avoid," Andrew answers, delayed, as he tracks the curves of Neil's body, the scars making him feel safe and angry all at once. Angry at those who would hurt his person, safe knowing Neil doesn't shy away from the ugliness.

Neil shrugs as he sits on the bed, beckoning Andrew over. He follows, of course he does, it's automatic.

What he says isn't a lie; he hasn't figured out the truth of this. Neil grins at him, infuriating. "No, I just think you're avoiding thinking about it. Don't get me wrong, I have no idea what you're actually thinking about, I'm not a mind reader. But if something else weren't bothering you I don't think you'd be this antsy."

"I'm not antsy."

"I told you, I'm the better liar so you should stop trying," Neil says with a smile, kicking his legs out in front of him. There's bruises on his knees from their last game. Andrew reaches out to press his palm against them, frowning at the yellowish color; there was no helping the fall, but Andrew had still checked him out afterwards. Neil sighs into the touch, leans into it, and it hits Andrew that this level of vulnerability he's been given is not something he's ever asked for, but he couldn't let go of if he wanted to.

Can’t let himself betray.

"I haven't made up my mind," Andrew says, not like he has to. Neil is normally good at knowing when Andrew isn't ready to give his final answer, but something about this feels different. It makes Andrew say as much as he can. "I don't know yet if I can do it."

What he thought would be devastating to admit aloud feels more like one weight has been shed. Neil doesn't even react, apart from prying Andrew's hand off his knee to trace the veins on his wrist.

"That's okay," Neil whispers, and there's enough encouragement in the tone to make Andrew growl.

"Shut up."

Neil freezes, his fingers hovering over Andrew's knuckles, and has the audacity to squint at Andrew. The man always did have a death wish. "It is."

Andrew turns away, in what to others would read as a clear dismissal, the cold shoulder. Neil has never cared to accept those things.

"Andrew," Neil says, and it's with conviction this time. No gentleness. "I'm not going to...leave if we never do it, I don't care about that, I just care about you. But if it is something you want, it's a yes--"

Fury spikes.

Andrew bites back the auto-response of 'I don't care if you leave' because it's a deflection he won't bring into this. He doesn't have time to keep that wall of his intact during a conversation like this. Neil will fight it and see through it and it'll waste their time.

But honestly, screw Neil for seeing through Andrew so easily. For pulling out fears that shouldn't be there and aren't, they aren't.

When Andrew turns his scowl on Neil, the striker doesn't so much as flinch. Andrew is here, giving away too much, showing too much, and Neil takes all of it.

"That doesn't have to be your final answer," Andrew stresses, voice tight, and this time Neil does have the decency to look surprised. Those pretty eyes soften with it, and Andrew sees the exact moment he puts something together which Andrew hasn't yet touched. "We don't have to. That goes both ways, I won't take that from you unless you're 100% sure so you better be and fuck you if you don't tell me the truth when the time comes. And it's not going to be you letting me, or doing it for my sake, or some other half-assed reason. If you don't want to, we won't. "

If I can't, I won't.

And the only reason he wouldn't be able to is if...

Andrew feels a stone settle in his stomach, and almost grins from how amazingly stupid this all is. Bee would be so proud, him getting to this point, on the cusp of figuring out what the hell is going on in his head.

All of a sudden Andrew is tired, too much energy pulled out of him, a war of emotions, all for him to come to the obvious conclusion.

It always comes back to Neil.

And Neil seems to have figured it out too; he stares at Andrew for a long time, scanning his face, giving him that look, the one which burns Andrew from the inside. Warm.

"The next time one of them says you're soulless, I might have to fight them."

All Andrew's words, and Neil manages to find the sliver of realness buried in it. For a moment, Andrew thinks Neil will let it go, for Andrew's sake. But, he should know better. They're no longer at that point, and Bee would call that progress, but Andrew doesn't know what to do with it yet.

All he knows is that if Neil thinks he can soothe any of Andrew's thoughts, he will, no matter how many times Andrew tells him he doesn't need it.

It's quiet, when Neil finally speaks. "You wouldn't hurt me," he whispers into the small space between them. Andrew hadn't realized they'd gotten so close, but there's his forearm, pressed right against Neil's. No wincing, no queasiness.

Andrew starts to turn away, and Neil risks blocking him with his hand. Andrew's vision is all blue, Neil's bangs such a mess he wants so badly to push them back again. "You wouldn't hurt me Andrew, if that's what you're worried about. You couldn't. I trust you. Of course I want to, but it's not a deal breaker. Stop treating it like one."

Andrew doesn't move, it's amazing he can even look at Neil, but he can't stop. There's so much he could argue in return, lots to prove wrong. Neil doesn't know anything about this, he can't possibly get it, or know what he's really giving Andrew, or what he’ll want in the future.

Their future; another subject to flood Andrew's brain. Too much at once, too much.

And yet, Neil is a deadly weapon, except with Andrew the slicing wounds give way to blooms instead of blood.

Neil strikes. "If you decide it's a yes, and I come back and say no, would it be a deal breaker for you?"

Andrew twitches from the mere thought, which is as good as a full body jerk. Neil could say he never wanted to have sex again and Andrew wouldn't push, he'd stay. "No," he seethes, unable to keep it out of his voice. Neil goes right for the throat every time, making one of Andrew's arguments null.

As for the other...

"I want to," Neil says, and for once, he seems embarrassed. It's a rare thing on Neil, the worried lip, the giddiness. Like he's excited. It's not even about the sex, he's pretty sure Neil did this when Andrew first held his hand too. Andrew's stomach flips itself over in half, the bastard.

"You wouldn't be taking either," Neil says, and Andrew flinches internally. Hurting Neil...he could hurt Neil, he could-- "We'd be...sharing, like we always do. So you can stop beating yourself up over my decision, and think about yours."

In Neil speak: Do whatever you need to do to figure out what you need, I'll be waiting.

Andrew hates the assumptions, mostly because they're right. This is not something he can resolve with one conversation. The thought of somehow ruining this for Neil, for making his first time something horrible, is too much for him to unpack this quickly. Who knows how long it will take him to reach a decision, or what the decision will be.

Yet, Neil's here, telling him he doesn't care how long it takes, or where Andrew lands at the end of it. He'll be here, now and after.

What percent is Neil even at? The millions maybe. Andrew's blood boils before it comes down to a simmer, then fades completely. Andrew never asked to feel, but Neil is wearing him down everyday.

The thought repeats: Andrew doesn't know how to stop.

He clenches his fists, grabbing Neil's shoulder and forcing him down onto his side to lie next to him. Words won't work for him anymore, and he's not capable of touching or even kissing right now. But it's a concession, a thing he is learning to give without despising the weakness of it.

Neil gives a small yelp but goes with Andrew willingly, not resisting. His curls fan out on the comforter, one decorated with cats that Nicky gifted them. Andrew sighs; Neil has yet to make any sense to him, even when the entrance to the messy path ahead of him has cleared.

He'll need as much rest as possible to figure this out. It's too early to go to bed, but after all this Andrew needs sleep, and he hates how Neil being next to him has become the new normal.

"I fucking hate you," he says in the small margin of space between them, and closes his eyes before he can be blinded by Neil's idiotic smile. "Go to sleep junkie."

Andrew's memory feeds him Neil's smile anyways.

Neil sighs across from him, and Andrew immediately feels drowsy, like it's a spell over him. He falls into it, not resisting.

As the world fades in and out, the most important thoughts stay afloat, and he embeds them in his head. They're less like mosquitoes now, more like additional grooves.

Neil wants it, Neil is ready. There's no sense in Andrew dwelling on that issue further for now, so he bypasses the first lock of his mind. Of course, he was never so optimistic to think that was the only thing holding him back, and Neil pulled that out of him too.

The big issue, the one holding Andrew back. The striker's words flood his mind, blurred and echoed. 'You wouldn't hurt me.'

But is that the truth? There's only one way to find out, and Andrew isn't sure if it's something he's willing to risk. Neil never was and never will be someone fragile, but that’s not the point. That’s not what Andrew means.

Just the realization he has the power to hurt Neil with this, the way Andrew was hurt…it makes him shy away from any attempt.

After all, he decided long ago he wouldn't risk losing Neil, not for anything, returning words said on rooftops. And yet…Neil makes him itch to prove those things wrong.

He's not sure yet where to go from here, but he pushes it aside to think about later. He has as much time as he needs. With the first lock conquered, the tension in his shoulders relaxes. Neil thinks about it, wants it. So can Andrew.

Just like that, Andrew finally concedes; he lets the idea of want flood in.

This time, there's no guilt to be found. Neil, with all intentions, made sure of that.

--

#andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #all for the game #aftg

[sevenincubistolemyheart]

Tainting Purity

Au: Demon Au!

Tag list: @bangtans-apollo @xsmilebitesx @wilhelminalucinda @xsunnyhoseokx @okgoogul @mariacorbi @spiritualotaku @littlekitten8590  @felic-ci  @saturated-pink  @fckyouartclass  @saraisthoughts

Rating: I’m gonna stay safe and say M for this entire series!

Summary: If someone told you that demons would be an everyday part of society a month ago you would have called them crazy.  But now that they actually were, you were surprised to find them much more docile than you would’ve initially assumed. In fact, it was the Humans who were hurting them, more often than not. So when you get fed up and stand up for an innocent demon being attacked, you shouldn’t have been so surprised when your own species turned on you, including your own parents, and left you to fend for yourself. Luckily, the newly made treaty calls for a Human to live with demons if there’s 5 or more, and so, you’re now rooming with 7 demons. But not just any kind of demons. Incubi. Your life has suddenly just gotten a whole lot more interesting.

Potential triggers: Mentions of being turned on and other sexual topics, as in this au the boys are all incubi. Brief cursing, kinks including a bit of thigh riding, oral fixation, and a fair amount of dirty talk. I’m gonna go ahead and add dubious consent as well.

Pairing: BTS x Reader/OT7 x Reader

Genre: Supernatural, Drama, Romance, Angst, Fluff, Hurt & Comfort

Length: 6.2k

To say that demons were not very accepted when they came out was an understatement.

People were understandably terrified, and there was a lot of questions to be had. The demons, to their credit, were actually very accommodating. They'd been sent up here to gauge our reactions to them, and were to live here. They explained the different types, because yes, different types existed. From Incubi to Fallen Angels to Ifrits.

According to the demons, the rest were merely grunts, soldiers with supernatural abilities. As for Lucifer, and where religion fit in with all of this, the man who asked found himself pinned by the throat with the warning to never ask again. That was the one question they vehemently refused to acknowledge. They wouldn't even say if angels or God existed at all.

As for you? You actually thought it was some elaborate hoax at first. You'd always believed in the Supernatural, very strongly in fact, but the idea that demons suddenly just decided to reveal themselves was just too unbelievable. Until you saw their powers first hand, anyway. When you saw fire burst forth from an ifrits hand right before your eyes to light his cigarette, it hit you all at once.

This was real.

It took you a few more days to fully come to terms with it of course. You did a lot of research and unfortunately weren't surprised to find many hate-based groups, determined to hate them in the name of “good” or “God”. Many protests and fights had broken out, both from demons, fed up from being discriminated against and Humans, scared of the unknown and in defense of beliefs that were now called into question.

But in addition to the hateful people, there was another group that fetishized them, especially the succubi and incubi. Since they fed on sexual energy, it was often a win-win but some of them were disgusted by it. After being the ones to use Humans and manipulate them for millennia, it just wasn't the same to have themselves be used as sex objects. Others still, felt it was a give and take, and many incubi and succubi liked it that way, rather than merely being used for their abilities. Many found amusement in it, but the ones that didn’t were often shunned by the fetishists just as much as those that hated them.

Then, of course, there was the largest group, made up of the ones that were afraid or caught in the middle, unsure of what to believe, and how to act around these new, intimidating creatures we’d all been taught to fear. Eventually, a representative stepped forward for the demons, and talks began with the united nations. Experiments were shot down, immediately, but low-grade demons who underestimated what Human technology was capable of were sometimes able to be subdued. Sex trafficking was a booming market for demon slaves. Sometimes, demons turned and helped Humans capture them, either for their own safety or even for food, in the case of Nogtisunes.

Eventually, a compromise was reached. The demons would not kill any Humans, and only fight back if genuinely threatened, and the Humans wouldn't exclude them from establishments or try to harm them. Needless to say, both sides weren’t exactly happy with the arrangement, especially the Humans, and the law was frequently broken.

You were on your way to your favorite cafe to meet up with your parents for a late brunch when you saw it happen. There was a person being kicked and attacked by a group of surrounding people, men, and female alike. You stood in shock for a moment, surprised that people were walking past this like nothing was happening before you huffed and sprang into action, pushing past the people forcefully and standing in front of the person to shield them. “What the fuck is wrong with all of you!? Who do you think you are to pick on this innocent-” You checked behind you at the male struggling to get to his feet. “Boy?”

A boisterous male stepped forward and shouted at you.

“Boy? As if! That thing’s a beast in Human form, it deserves nothing but the pain and suffering they gave us for so many years!”

You looked over as you felt a hand on your shoulder, gently pulling you back a bit, seeing the bloodied male rising to his feet. He spat some blood out of his mouth and grinned at the man. “Actually, my kind gave you nothing but pleasure. Just because you get off on inflicting pain on others, doesn’t mean we all do.” He said cheekily, eyes glinting as the man’s face turned a brilliant shade of red. You gasped pulling him behind you in panic as the man lunged. “Watch out!” You winced as the hit of the man's fist met your stomach, doubling over in pain as he scoffed.

“You stupid bitch! Why would you stand up for this disgusting creature?”

You rolled your eyes, even as you grit your teeth at the pain, forcing yourself to stand up straight again, even as your stomach pulsed in pain. “The only disgusting creature I see is standing right in front of me. This incubus didn’t do a damn thing wrong, and you had no right to assault him like this!!” You hissed at him in return, eyes alight with anger.

“Jungkook! There you are!”

You looked up towards the unfamiliar voices only to gasp as you were violently pulled into the crowd by your hair. You tried to get free but heard a voice you knew all too well scoff. “Can’t believe I actually raised a filthy monster fucker.” You wretched yourself away from the hand even though you lost some of your hair with a pain that had your eyes tearing.

“Dad!? I know you don’t like demons, but abusing them when they haven’t done anything to deserve it is wrong! The treaty was made for a reason!!” You said back coldly. “And I’m not “fucking” any of them, I just have the basic common sense to know that hurting anyone innocent, whether demon or Human is wrong. I thought you did too. Clearly, I was wrong.”

You turned towards your Mother, expecting her to be on your side as she typically was only to find her looking on in terror at something behind you. You turned and watched in awe as the injured boy, Jungkook’s wound healed, despite being openly bleeding when you’d jumped in to help him.

“Leave, and never come back.”

You abruptly turned back to look at your Mother in total shock, eyes wide at her quiet words.

“W-What?”

She shouted then, voice louder than you’d ever heard it. “I said leave! You’re no longer welcome in our household! I can't believe my own flesh and blood would betray her own species like this!! If I ever see your face again I’ll personally make sure you regret it!” She stormed off with your father in tow as you stared at the spot she’d once occupied, numb with shock and fear slowly creeping in.

“She’s right! You’re on your own now little girl, and you deserve the same as the filthy monster you stupidly tried to protect.” The few remaining people of the mob turned their attention to you, and you couldn’t even find the strength to bring your arms up to try and protect yourself as another boy lunged at you, about your age.

“That’s where you’re wrong.” A deep voice spoke from behind you, close enough that you could feel the warmth of his skin as he held the boy's wrist in an ever-tightening grip beside your face. He must’ve stopped the boy before he could hit you.

Another voice spoke up to your right.

“Try and hurt her again, any of you, and you’ll never get off again, got it?” This voice spoke in a cheerful, more high pitched tone, and you turned to look at him, causing the shortest male of the bunch to smile kindly at you. You finally processed what was happening and backed up further, going towards the group of incubi and sighing in relief as they circled around you protectively. You mumbled a “thank you” but you saw Jungkook nod out of the corner of your eye, so clearly he at least heard you.

The attackers were clearly on edge now at the shortest boy’s threat and reluctantly backed off though not before shouting at you one more time. “That’s right you filthy whore, run back to your demonic sex toys!”

One of the boys huffed a breathless chuckle and you could’ve sworn his eyes flashed fully black before he snapped his fingers and hissed back to the boy spitefully. “Have fun trying to cum now you little shit!”

This was all a lot to take in and you were starting to feel a bit lightheaded, as it all hit you.

“Hey, Seokjin hyung, are Humans supposed to be that pale?”

You shook your head, trying to clear your mind and get your bearings as you groped for something to hold onto, taking a deep breath to keep calm as your hand was guided to a muscular arm which you squeezed gratefully. Eventually, you managed to come back to yourself fully, and blinked a few times, thankful you could see properly without the world spinning as it had been.

Once you looked around you flushed as you realized the men who’d stood up for you earlier were now observing you intently. You looked to your right and quickly released the tall boy beside you’s arm, blushing further in embarrassment. “I’m so sorry! I just got a bit dizzy is all.” You apologized to him, sheepishly rubbing the back of your neck.

He smiled at you, but it seemed forced. Your attention was brought to the one you now know was Jungkook as he bounded confidently over to you. “Thank you for standing up for me. I can definitely make it up to you…” His voice trailed off into a seductive growl that had you swallowing, and you stepped back in surprise as his nimble fingers briefly slipped beneath your t-shirt to skim your bare sides, making you jump away. “AGH, n-no that’s really not necessary!!” You squeaked out nervously.

You gasped sharply as you felt someone nibble playfully on your sensitive earlobe from behind, and you quickly surmised it was your savior from earlier, as his deep voice clued you in. “Oh, but we really wouldn’t mind princess. It’d be our pleasure, and yours too if your currently soaking panties are anything to go by~” He purred in your ear, grinning as you wrenched yourself away from him and put a bit of a distance between you and the other boys, suddenly dizzy for a much different reason.

“That’s enough, I mean it!” Your voice cracked and you nervously avoided their gaze, not used to boys being so...direct like this. It was flustering beyond belief, and if you were being 100% honest with yourself, hot as Hell. You finally looked up and felt another rush of pleasure go through you at the sight of one of them tonguing the inside of his cheek as he looked you up and down. His intense gaze suddenly met yours and he smirked, causing you to blush a darker shade of red as you ducked your head once again.

“I-I don’t even know all of your names.” You pointed out meekly, hating how submissive these 7 men were making you feel with just brief touches and looks.

The one whose arm you’d been clinging to snorted in amusement at your dazed state but obliged you nonetheless, with a simple nod. “Fair enough then. I’m Kim Namjoon.” He motioned to his friend beside him and he took over with a grin. “I’m Kim Seokjin!” He blew a kiss your way and chuckled as you looked away shyly. “The name’s Yoongi, Min Yoongi.” Your attention was brought to the person who spoke and you found it was the one who’d cursed the boy earlier. “Hello!! I’m Park Jimin, and you don’t need to be so shy cutie!” He giggled as you smiled his way, realizing he was the other one who had stood up for you. “I’m Jeon Jungkook, though I think you know that by now.” The youngest spoke up with a smirk.

“Aww you’re so adorable!!” you tensed before forcing yourself to relax under the sudden attack hug, returning it before he pulled back. “Hi!” He chirped. “My name’s Jung Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi if you want!” His cheerfulness did wonders or your nerves and you found yourself smiling back as you nodded, stepping back and turning to face the last boy in the bunch. He looked you up and down slowly before he chuckled in that deep voice of his. “Kim Taehyung, but you can just call me Tae sweetheart.” The way that nickname sounded coming from him was not helping your arousal and judging from the way his smirk widened, you guessed he knew quite well what effect his words were having on you.

You waved quickly, offering them a smile, along with your name even as you were trying not to clench your thighs and give away how truly horny you were. “I really should be going but I’m glad I could hel-” You were abruptly cut off by Yoongi.

“Going where, exactly? We all saw what happened back there, do you have a place to stay?”

You winced at the blunt reminder but hesitantly shook your head. “Well, no, but I’m sure I’ll find someplace!” You scrambled for an excuse to leave, trying to brush it off but Jungkook intercepted your path before you could go any further. “I can’t just throw you into the streets after you stood up for me, and lost your home because of helping me. Please, come stay with us.”

You opened your mouth to protest but Seokjin spoke up before you could. “We need a Human anyway. You may not know this since it wouldn’t affect a Human such as yourself, but in the fine print of the treaty, it was made clear that groups of 5 or more demons need to have a Human live with them if they want to obtain lodgings. They...heh.” He shook his head with a sarcastic snicker. “They don’t trust us demons as it is, and they don't like the idea of us banding together without Human supervision.”

You saw Namjoon roll his eyes at that, and you mulled it over. You checked your phone and quickly came to the conclusion that you didn’t have much choice. You were just about to start college, and you’d dropped out of contact with your high school friends after you’d graduated so it wasn’t as if you had many options. “Well...alright, fine. But we’ll need to set some ground rules when we get to the house, okay?”

Namjoon spoke up with a nod. “Sure, that’s fine. C’mon, you can just sit on someone’s lap in the back of the car.” He said casually, beginning to lead the way. On the way Hoseok slung his arm around your shoulder once again, making you notice he was quite the touchy-feely type, not that you minded. He was pouting though, which made you tilt your head in confusion. “Something wrong Hobi?” He seemed to perk up a bit at the nickname and nodded, if a bit nervously. “Well...why do you want to set rules? Do...Do you not trust us?” His voice is quiet, but resigned, like this is something he was used to.

Your eyes widen in surprise and you look up to see the others, while still walking, had an ear tilted towards your conversation. “Is that what you guys think? Oh my God, no, nothing like that! It’s just because there’s 7 of you guys and 1 of me. Plus, even though I know a little about demons and such, I really don’t know too many specifics. I didn’t even realize you guys were incubi until Jungkook pointed out that one guy was a sadist. You are all incubi, right?”

You jumped back as you accidentally bumped into Seokjin’s back as they’d all stopped out of the blue.

“What’s-?”

Your mouth went dry as you saw every one of them glaring at you intensely.

“You want to make rules? Fine, here’s the first one. Never say that name in our presence again. Got it?” Seokjin’s voice was a low rumble, a clear warning held within his words as he looked you up and down.

It took you a moment to put it together before your eyes widened and you nodded in understanding. Of course they wouldn’t want to hear God’s name come from your lips...they were demons after all. “Sorry I really wasn’t thinking…” You mumbled, shrinking beneath their gaze. At your frightened form, the boys all softened a bit, and Hobi squeezed your shoulder reassuringly, as Jimin spoke up to the left of you.

“No worries sweetheart, we just really don’t like hearing that name. Especially from those that belong to us. It may not make sense to you as a Human, but it brings out the worst parts of all of us when we hear it. The last thing we want to do is lash out at you when you haven’t truly done anything wrong.”

Namjoon piped up from aways in front of you as you all began walking again. “Anyway, to answer your last question...yes, we’re all incubi. We have a few friends who are other species but the 7 of us like to stick to each other most of the time. Safety in numbers and all that. Not to mention the amount of trouble some of our other kind cause.” He said conversationally.

You nodded in understanding and got lost in your thoughts as the boys bantered between each other. Your arousal was finally calming down to your utter relief, and you jumped in surprise as Taehyung waved his hand in front of your eyes, an amused grin tugging at his lips as he startled you. “Sorry for frightening you, but we’re here and you didn’t hear us calling you...” He chuckled.

You smiled apologetically as you shook your head to shake away your leftover thoughts, laughing sheepishly. “Sorry about that guys, guess I’ve got a lot on my mind. Where should I sit again?” You asked, feeling shy all over again as you remembered you’d need to sit on someone’s lap so there’d be enough room.

3 voices overlapped as they spoke at the same time. “You can sit with me!” Jimin chirped, while Jungkook leered at you. “My lap’s always open for you angel~” He purred with a smirk, and the irony of him calling you angel after just telling you not to say God in their presence wasn't lost on you. Taehyung meanwhile, looked you over unashamedly, before he shrugged. “Whatever will make you more comfortable.”

Seokjin huffed at the three youngest. “You three are shameless. Give the poor girl a second to breathe, she just calmed down.”

Jungkook’s smirk only widened and he met your eyes when his tongue darted out to wet his lower lip. “Exactly. Makes it all the more fun to get her wet for us again…” His voice was low and seductive and you found yourself blushing again as you pouted at him, even as you felt yourself growing slick. “Cut it out, this isn’t fair!”

Jungkook merely raised a challenging eyebrow in response. “Oh? Am I getting to you that much?” He huffed a breathless laugh as you crossed your arms in addition to pouting. “You’re so easy. I’m not even really trying you know.” He boasted.

You scoffed at that, and rolled your eyes, ignoring the way you saw his own narrow. “Whatever. Would you mind if I sat with you Jimin?” He’d been the one to mess with you the least out of the younger ones, so you were praying he’d have more self-restraint than the other two and show you a little mercy. You’d definitely need a nice cold shower once you were alone.

Jimin perked up at the sound of his name and sent you a boyish grin that had you smiling back unconsciously as you ignored the glare you felt burning into your back. “Of course you can!” You all piled into the car then, even though Taehyung pouted and you could still feel Jungkook’s eyes on you.

You hesitantly sat on the edge of Jimin’s leg in between Jungkook and Taehyung, barely sitting at all due to nerves as you held the handle tight enough that your knuckles cracked audibly. It wasn’t Jimin that you didn’t trust, he was nothing but sweet to you so far, but damn, if you weren’t still a horny mess from Jungkook working you up again. You yelped as Hoseok suddenly stopped short, causing Jimin to instinctively grab your waist protectively and pull you into him, and also rubbing your clothed core right into his thigh in the process. You couldn’t help your whimper and 6 pairs of knowing eyes were on you in seconds.

A loud honk at the back of you confirmed that it was actually 7 though Hoseok reluctantly returned his eyes to the road. You could still see his gaze flicking to look at you in the mirror anytime he could though.

You ducked your head in embarrassment as your cheeks burned, the intensity of all of their gazes not helping your dripping arousal any as you crossed your legs, and cleared your throat, trying to at least maintain some of your dignity.

The atmosphere of the car was thick with sexual tension, and you could distinctly feel how much from Jimin’s boner at your back.

“You don’t need to be ashamed, it’s us who should be. We're typically much better at controlling ourselves than this. I'm sorry babygirl.” You flinched as the sound of Namjoon’s voice broke the silence after a few minutes. You met his gaze and he suddenly inhaled sharply as your pussy clenched at the nickname that left his lips, cutting himself off. “You’re just-” He let out a chuckle and bit his lip, trying to fight his urges. Noticing his struggle, Seokjin piped up from beside him. “You smell so good, and because you’re a virgin in so many ways, that’s only enhancing every sensation, and making us want you more.” He admitted, voice a quiet mumble.

You blushed at Seokjin’s crude words. “How did you-?” Yoongi cut you off. “We innately know any Human’s sexual experience, and their biggest desires typically as well. Even the smallest kinks, things you want to experiment with, even if only once...we know it all, at just a glance.”

Hoseok suddenly stopped short again as someone cut in front of the black SUV, making you cry out in a half-whimper, half-whine, without conscious thought.

“Hoseok please-!”

A few groans emitted from the boys as they fought desperately to hold themselves back, but others were quickly starting to lose their composure. Hoseok met your eyes in the mirror at the next light, eyes hooded with lust, but with a dangerous glint you hadn’t seen before. “Sweetheart, if you call my name like that again, there is absolutely no way I’m going to be able to stop myself from pulling over and fucking you raw.”

Yoongi snickered huskily, and hummed, knuckles white from how hard he was clenching his fists. “Calls your name? If she makes another fucking sound I’m personally going to make sure she screams instead.”

The dirty words made your mouth dry and you swallowed, but nodded obediently, biting your lip hard to hold back God forbid Hoseok stopped short again. You started as Jungkook and Taehyung suddenly decided to teasingly walk their fingers up each of your thighs, making you try to lunge for their wrists, only for Jimin to easily hold your hands back, with a strength that took you off guard. When you looked back at him in surprise, it was like he was a different person entirely from the sweet boy you’d met earlier. You’d taken his silence and stiffness for control, and clearly, that was a mistake. He smirked at your shocked expression, leaning forward to leave a kitten lick on your ear that made you squeak before you quickly bit your lip harder than before at the warning looks Hoseok and Yoongi sent your way as he continued to toy with your sensitive ears, driving you absolutely mad.

Your ears, neck, and inner thighs were all highly sensitive areas for you, and it looked like the three boys were going to take full advantage of it.

Jimin's lips moved from your ears to your neck and began to leave playful nips and kisses on the exposed area while Taehyung and Jungkook's fingers reached the top of your pants. They shared a long look for a moment before you heard Taehyung let out a quiet huff, and abruptly his mouth took over Jimin's previous position, nibbling and teasing your ear, not unlike he had done in front of the cafe earlier.

Your attention was quickly brought back to Jungkook as he slowly pulled back the waistband of your pants, making eye contact with you and smirking as his hand slipped into them. You glared at him, opening your mouth to protest when he let one finger caress your clothed core teasingly, making you flinch violently enough that Jimin had to tighten his grip on you while Taehyung giggled quietly in your other ear, sending shivers down your spine. "I almost forgot how sensitive virgins are...ah, it's just so fun to tease you like this!" He mumbled, before returning to attacking your ear with renewed vigor. Your breathing hitched, the pleasure becoming enough to really make you want to cry out, as you tried to squirm in Jimin's iron grip.

You felt him smirk against your neck, but were once again distracted by Jungkook as he leaned forward to tease your other ear, whispering quietly. "Aww, is it too much for you? Scared you're gonna bring attention to yourself?" When you nodded, starting to turn submissive as your situation finally hit you, you felt Jungkook's teeth suddenly pull teasingly on your earlobe in unison with Taehyung, making you slam your eyes shut at the pleasure and frantically kick the air, while desperately trying not to vocalize how you were feeling. "Look what a good girl you're being for us princess." You registered that it was Jimin's voice by your neck now speaking. "Don't worry we'll help you be quiet~" Taehyung's deep voice at your left ear was the only warning you received before he offered you his index and middle finger. "Open." His command made you want to obey but your stubbornness won out at being humiliated like this and you instead tried to move your head away from him...and went right into Jungkook. "I'd do what he says little girl. You don't want to have us force you, and then punish you do you?" His voice was teasing but when you scoffed and turned to glare at him, the seriousness in his gaze made you shudder.

By now, your panties were completely soaked through, thank God you chose to wear black pants today so it wouldn't be too noticeable. You gulped, but tried to stay strong in your decision. You couldn't let them win, not when they'd decided to play dirty like this. "F-Fuck all of you." Your voice was a hoarse whisper but they all clearly heard it. Taehyhung let out a positively bone-chilling chuckle by your ear. "Oh, you're going to wish you didn't say that." Jungkook merely hummed. "I had a feeling you were a brat when you rolled your eyes at me earlier but to think you'd use such language? Tsk..." His hand cupped your core so unexpectedly that you couldn't hold back your gasp as he hissed in your ear. "We'll fix that." Jimin was oddly quiet and it was only when you'd calmed down and Jungkook pulled his hand away that he spoke, voice even and gentle. "That wasn't very nice of you to say, you know. We were even going easy on you." That made your eyes widen. Easy!? You'd never been so horny in your life, he had to be joking!

"Oh well, guess we'll just do this the hard way. Open."

This time, you heard his voice in your mind as well, and when you tried to fight it, you found yourself steadily growing more and more turned on. You tried to squirm in his grip but Jimin simply giggled and forced you still again with his superior strength, voice still deceptively light. "Bad girl. I said open." It was steadily growing harder and harder, and you were fighting desperately against his instructions until your eyes were literally tearing from so much pleasure. Jungkook relished in this, wiping away one of your tears as it fell and cooing at you. "Aww look how cute she is, trying to fight us. C'mon little girl, it'll only get worse the more you resist." His voice turned serious, as he growled. "Give in...Open your mouth." His voice merged with Jimin's in your mind, and you finally crumbled under the power of their suggestion. But you didn't just open your mouth. You begged, the second your lips separated. "Please stop it!!"

Your eyes opened wide as you panted...and locked eyes with the other 4 boys, all watching your predicament. When had the car stopped? You couldn't remember or focus on anything besides the pleasure the 3 younger demons had been giving you.

Now that you were back to yourself though, it hit you like a train what had just happened and you scrambled out of Jimin's now lax grip, desperate to get out of the vehicle you'd been trapped in. You caught your breath, completely humiliated and eyes teary for a reason much different than pleasure. You felt a hand on your back and actually jumped away. "Don't touch me!" You demanded, even as your voice shook with held back emotions. You saw Hoseok looking at you guiltily and looked away from him to glare at the three who'd put you in this state.

"What the Hell did you do to me? You...You were inside my head."

Truth be told...that made you feel more violated than any of their other touches.

Jimin looked genuinely sheepish as he stepped forward to explain, frowning when you took a step back, but staying where he was. "It's an ability of ours. We can suggest ideas in Human's minds. We typically disguise it better by tricking your mind into thinking it's coming from yourself but we didn't do that this time."

That made you scoff. "There won't be a next time, make no mistake of that. You had no right to do what you just did okay?" You snapped, clearly irritated, though truthfully, you were also disgusted with yourself, because part of you liked it and you just didn't know what to make of that. As if he'd read your mind Jungkook spoke up as he saw Jimin's face fall.

"You're overreacting. We made you feel good and deny it all you want, but you liked every minute of it."

You blushed but shook your head. "Even if I did, that's not the point! You need my okay first, you can't just overwhelm me like that without any notice!"

"So we're okay to do it if we ask you first?" Taehyung asked, eyes hopeful.

You sighed, shaking your head in exasperation, "I can't do this right now. I need a cold shower and a pair of clean clothes first and foremost. Then we're setting ground rules. Alright?" Taehyung, Jungkook and Jimin all reluctantly nodded and you turned to check on the older one's responses. Seokjin spoke up as you thought he would.

"I'm sorry, I should have stopped the-" You shook your head, holding your hand up with a tired smile. "Jin, I appreciate it, I really do. But I mean it when I say I can't do this right now. I feel absolutely disgusting, and I need a shower stat. Please tell me this house has a shower I can use to clean myself and calm down?"

"Oh, so you're still-ow!" Jungkook winced as Yoongi smacked him over the head for the suggestive comment he was about to make and you nodded at him in thanks.

"Yeah, I know where the shower is. C'mon, you can follow me inside." Namjoon interjected, starting to walk to the gate. It was only then that you bothered to take in where exactly you were. This place was so charming! "Woah...how the Hell are you able to afford this quaint little place?" You asked as you followed after him, trying to push what just happened to the back of your mind, at least for the moment. Namjoon smiled a bit despite himself at your childlike awe as he led you into the entry hall, the other boys not far behind, though they quickly separated to do their own things. "We've been demons for way longer than most, and while we've never had a need for Human money, whenever we recieved it, we kept it. You'd be surprised just how many of your kind tried to pay us for our services. It came in handy when we came to the surface, and let us get this place and any other necessities or things we wanted. We've got more than enough between the 7 of us to last us several mortal lifetimes."

You nodded in understanding as he led you further into the homey cottage, taking in its simplistic beauty as he opened a door and let you go first before closing the door behind himself. "I know you don't really have any clothes yet so I'm going to lend you some of mine for now. They'll be big on you for sure, but we'll go out and get some proper clothes with you tomorrow. The bathroom is right there to the left of you and there are fresh towels inside. I'll leave the clothes outside on the bed for you." He bowed his head and turned to leave when you asked him the question that'd been plaguing you since you'd first interacted with him.

"...Do you not like me for some reason Namjoon?"

He turned to face you with a smile that was a little too wide; eyes a little too perceptive.

"Why do you ask? I haven't given you any reason to believe that, have I?" He asked, voice calm.

You shook your head and shrugged. "No, admittedly, you haven't done anything outright. But all of the others have either shown explicit interest in me somehow or made an effort to be friendly, and you haven't really done much of either. In fact, the few times you have spoken to me, it's been very..." You searched for the right word. "business-like, I guess."

Namjoon observed you for a moment with an unreadable expression before he suddenly strode towards you, backing you up until you hit the wall behind you with a light thud. Your cheeks heated as he placed his hands on either side of your head, bending down to your height to look you in the eyes. He observed your expression for a moment, before he smirked suddenly, something you hadn't seen before. It changed his entire demeanor, making him seem much more intimidating, and suddenly you were hyper-aware of the fact that he was close enough that you could feel his breath on your lips. It smelled like cinnamon, and his cologne was intoxicating.

"Do I seem business-like now?"

His words snapped you out of your stupor as your gaze jumped from where you'd been observing his lips to looking into his eyes. You felt meek under the borderline possessive glare he was giving you and shook your head stumbling over your words as you were taken aback at his sudden change in demeanor. "I-N-No you don't!" His lips twitched into a smile then, and you found your mind going blank as his tongue darted out to wet them.

'I really want to kiss him.'

The thought came as your gaze flickered to his lips again, your thoughts drifting to how nice and plush they looked, and would surely feel against your own...you went to lean in, but he pulled away just as you were about to close the last remaining inch. Just as suddenly as he'd cornered you, he was leaving with a simple wave of his hand. "Go ahead and take all the time you need in the shower, the clothes will be there when you get out, and we'll have lunch once you’re ready."

You blinked once. You blinked twice. Then, you let out the breath you'd were holding and sank to the floor, cheeks blushing a ruby red as you recalled just how close his lips had been to your own. Your fingertips brushed against your lips and you sighed. You'd been so close to losing your first kiss. Seokjin wasn't wrong when he said you were a virgin in more ways than one. It was a bit embarrassing for you to be entering college, never even have experienced a real first kiss yet. Though living with these boys, you had the sinking feeling that wasn't going to be the case for much longer, no matter what rules you put in place.

What the Hell had you gotten yourself into, agreeing to stay with these people?

A/N: And that’s a wrap on the first chapter! I really, really hope you guys enjoy this, since I kid you not I stayed up until 5am last night typing all of this out lol. I worked really hard on it, so I hope it paid off! I think this’ll be a really fun world to play in so I’m excited to continue the journey with all of you guys! 

Please send me an ask and let me know your thoughts since I crave validation and praise as much as Jimin! Also, feel free to tell me who you like the most so far, or who you’re looking forward for the reader to have interactions with! Kinks you potentially want me to explore would be super cool too! I take all of your feedback into account when I write! 

Okay, bye-bye thank you so much for reading!

#sismh: fics #tainting purity #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x you #kim seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x you #jung hoseok x reader #jung hoseok x you #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you #kim taehyung x reader #kim taehyung x you #park jimin x reader #park jimin x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #jung hoseok #min yoongi #kim taehyung #park jimin #jeon jungkook #bts supernatural au #bts demon au #incubus! bts #bts au #bts au fanfic #ksmutclub

[terrifying-testicles]

Sugar Daddy!Bakugou x Reader Ch. 2

All right you heathens, it’s here! I want you all to know that pretty much all of this gets written in my free time at my internship lol. I was asked to tag someone in future updates, so if you want to be tagged in the future just lemme know!

The outfits mentioned in the fic appear in this order: 1 2 3

Words: 5.8k

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Bakugou stares at his laptop screen, a deep frown pulling at the corners of his mouth. It had been a week since his friends had suggested being a sugar daddy. Sero and Kaminari had been making jokes at his expense any chance they got. Between missions and patrols, texting him horribly lewd memes. The last time it had happened, Kaminari had been two floors below Bakugou. He was awfully surprised when the ash blond barged in on him training, strolled straight over to Kaminari’s gym bag, grabbed his phone and looked him dead in the eyes as he blew it apart. Mouth agape, Kaminari was speechless as he watched Bakugou saunter out smugly. Kirishima had the decency to only bring it up when they were hanging out outside of work, and was serious about it. Sometimes he threw a joke around, but he chose his words wisely. Bakugou grumbles as he drags his hands down his face. He’d be lying if he said he hadn’t been curious about what it would be like to be a sugar daddy. He scoured forums and read accounts from daddies and babies alike, as well as suggestions. The more he considered it, the more he was into the idea. The only problem now was that Bakugou had no clue what to do about his profile. He’d compared different websites used for arrangements, and once he chose one, he went to sign up but…he was unsure. Grey catches his eye, Bakugou turning his head to find dark orange eyes staring back at him. He sighs through his nose and scoots his computer further down his lap. The cat’s eyes light up and he leaps up, settling against Bakugou’s chest. The hero brings his right hand up to scratch between his ears. “Katsuuuuki!” A shrill voice rings out, followed immediately by the slamming of his door. Bakugou groans loudly. Footsteps echo through his apartment before pink fills the doorway to his bedroom. Mina leans against the door frame, hands on either side, reminding Bakugou of a pin-up girl. “How’s my favorite blasty boy?” she asks, grin full of pearly teeth. “Who the fuck gave you a key?” Mina laughs and strolls towards the bed, reaching out to pet his cat. “Senshi, actually.”

The cat purrs loudly in response. That stupid cat adored Mina, always preferring her over any company if she was present. He wouldn’t put it past the ashy feline if the damn thing wasn’t such an idiot most of the time. Mina looks over to the laptop on Bakugou’s knees and gasps loudly. “Is that a sugar daddy site!?” she shrieks. Bakugou sputters and reaches to slam the screen closed but Mina is already snatching it up and jumping over him to land on the bed with a subdued bounce. Senshi leaps off of Bakugou, the Chartreux settling into Mina’s side, purring not unlike that of a boat. Bakugou scoffs at the traitor. “Give that back, freak!” He reaches for his computer but Mina slaps his hand harshly. “I would if this were a joke and it wasn’t you.” The pinkette fixes Bakugou with a sly look. “So, have you made an account, yet?” Bakugou narrows his eyes. “…no.” Mina squeals. “Good! I can help you, then!” “No way!” Bakugou tries once again to take his laptop and is, yet again, smacked away. “Oh, come on,” she whines. “There’s no way you could make a profile that doesn’t come off as scary or too vague.” “Shut up, just give it back.” “No!” Mina brings her legs under her in a crisscross and turns her back to the blond. Senshi yowls in complaint. “I won’t question your decisions, because let’s face it Katsu, you’re hot as fuck and you’re letting it go to waste! I just want you to be successful in your sugar daddy endeavors.” Bakugou had pressed himself against her back, reaching around to grab the laptop, but stops his struggle as Mina finishes talking. He frowns, staring at the Log In or Sign Up page, mulling over her words. Prideful as he is, Bakugou has to admit she’s not wrong. He’s not the most charming person, and he’s not the best at talking about himself in a way that isn’t pure bravado or defensiveness. Mina, on the other hand, is stupidly charismatic and knows her friends to a terrifying degree. Bakugou growls. “Fine, you can help me, but nothing gets posted unless I say so.” Mina whoops and gets to work signing him up. “Hot stuff?” Bakugou asks incredulously. “I’m not going to make you Lord Explosion.” She quips without taking her eyes away from the screen. He just huffs and settles his chin against her shoulder. “I’m guessing you don’t want others to know you’re a pro hero, right?” Mina feels him nod. “Hmm…” Bakugou glances at her, whose brows are drawn in a determined fashion, lips pursed. After a moment she grins and begins typing away, Bakugou barely able to keep up with her wild key strokes. “Hey, don’t make me sound too cocky.” he snaps. Mina rolls her eyes and deletes a few words before rewriting it. “How’s that, then?” Bakugou gives a scrutinizing look, but Mina knows it’s only for show. When he finally nods, Mina tosses the laptop to the side, earning a surprised sound from the man behind her. “Now we need a picture,” she pulls out her phone. “Normally, I’d say only a partial face pic, but it might be easier to recognize you as a hero that way. Plus, you’ve got a killer profile and it’d be a disservice to every prospective baby to hide it.” Bakugou wants to protest, but Mina’s flattery gets her surprisingly far with him at times. This is one of them, so he just puffs out a tired sigh and gestures for her to continue. “To the balcony!”

It’s well past dark when Bakugou finally manages to usher his friend out. Living in the same building as her proved to be a test of his patience on many occasions. Since he got her out, he’s been busying himself with browsing through profiles of women in his area. He’s not sure how to approach anyone on here and suddenly wishes he hadn’t kicked Mina out. Some babies play up the innocence, reminding him of actual adolescent girls, so Bakugou avidly avoids those profiles. Some express their sex appeal loudly, which is definitely not what he’s looking for. He’s getting ready to throw the damn laptop when a familiar face catches his eye. Bakugou clicks on ‘AngelEnergi’ and blanches at the picture. [h/c] ringlets cascading delicately over [s/c] shoulders and exposed collarbone, framing [e/c] eyes and pouty lips. A beautiful sigh, but all Bakugou can see is the mocking face of the woman who took his job into her hands. Bakugou can’t believe his luck, jaw clenching at the embarrassing memory. Her face had been haunting him all week, anger at her actions flaring up at full force and— And what? What could he do? Bakugou isn’t the kind of person to turn her in for unlawful quirk use when she still saved someone. He wasn’t going to message her just to bitch her out, either. In all honesty, he’d been intrigued by her. Loathe as he was to admit it, whatever drove her to act as if a pro hero, while irritating, was still attractive. Not everyone is made to be a hero, but she stepped up, despite the risk she faced. It’s an admirable trait. Bakugou takes a breath to level himself. He scrolls down and looks at her full profile. ‘You can call me Angel, though I may not always be one ;) I’m 23 and work all day in a lab, so from time to time I’d like a little luxury on the side. I’m great conversation and don’t mind being pure arm candy. I’m sweet enough~ My arrangements are preferred to be nonsexual. If you’d like to work something out, just give me a time and place for dinner – has to be somewhere public! – and I will let you know if I’m interested. My available times are below.’ Bakugou glances over the times before opening up her photo album. Beside her profile picture, there’s one of her in a blue, form-fitting evening gown, and another of her in a lingerie set from only the neck down. Bakugou flushes at the last one, quickly clicking out of it. Sure, she’d put the picture up willingly, but he wasn’t one to ogle unless they were face to face. That thought sends the hero into a full force blush that extends down his neck and across the tip of his ears. Senshi pads across the couch and nestles himself against Bakugou’s thigh. Said man scratches the cat’s head with a long sigh. “What do you think?” He glances down at his furry companion, who gives a full-body purr. Bakugou snorts. “Of course you do.”

……………………………………………………………………………………………

You open the bathroom door, steam pouring out into her living room. You step out, towel around your chest and are wrapping another around your hair to set atop your head. You smile at the dog lying on his back in the armchair, snoring loudly. You start to head for your room when your phone dings. Curious, you cross to the coffee table and wake up your phone. The screen lights up with two notifications. You swipe away the game alert, but your thumb hovers over the alert from the dating site. ‘HotStuffZero has sent you a message.’ You raise your eyebrows. It’s been a bit since anyone has messaged you, so you’re somewhat surprised by the late-night contact. You tap the notification and unlock your phone. The message just says, “Friday @ 6” and a link. When you check it, you see it’s an upscale restaurant only a twenty minute train ride from where you live. You tap on the profile and can’t help the way you smile at the handsome face before you. His profile picture is of the man’s side profile, looking out at a presumed skyline, if the cityscape backdrop is anything to go by. His pale blond hair is wild, but his face is stern, all angles. You can’t help but admire the cut of his jaw for a moment. It’s the only picture on his profile so you move on to his bio. ’24, Taurus, feisty. Looking for someone to spoil with gifts and take to events. If you’re seeking out fancy dinner dates, extravagant galas, and no-limit shopping sprees, then let me know. No expectations.’ He’s young, you think. You had yet to meet a sugar daddy on here younger than mid-thirties. It was a pleasant surprise, though the last bit confused you. No expectations? Of me or of him? Either way, you could handle whatever came your way. You returned to your messages and shot off a quick “See you there” before locking your phone and throwing it atop the coffee table. This should be fun.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Bakugou really wasn’t a fan of upscale restaurants like this. Sure, he could afford it, had more than enough money to enjoy bougie spots and high-end meals, but he surely didn’t have the patience for the pompous pricks sat around him. They’d pay him no mind until he opened his mouth, then suddenly everyone within earshot was aghast, but would listen intently as if filling up their gossip arsenal. An ideal date for him would be set at home where he could cook a meal far better than some high-strung chef. Yet, all that he hates about these upscale places are exactly why he’s here, right? To show that he could afford something to ostentatious, that he was more than capable of spoiling his potential baby with absolute ease. Bakugou frowns, realizing he still doesn’t know her name. He can ask once she shows up, but he hates not knowing more about her beforehand. He likes having eh ball in his court, with every advantage he can manage. He made it here half an hour before their set time, with a seat near the back of the restaurant to give him a perfect view of the door and most of the establishment. He already has a wine picked out, waiting until she gets here to order it. Hell, he even knows that they’ve met before, while as far as she is aware he’s nothing but a stranger. Checking his phone, he sighs. Still fifteen minutes before they’d agreed to meet. Maybe he shouldn’t have been so early. His nerves are high, leg bouncing so badly the table has started a light tremor. It’s just a date, not even with a potential partner, but someone who doesn’t even have to like him, so long as the money is good. Bakugou’s stomach goes sour with that thought.

You shuffle up to the restaurant, anxiety nestled between ribs. The exterior is extravagant, taupe sponged brick and burgundy awnings sprouting forth above arched, stained windows. The doors are a dark oak with bronze in-lays that swirl along the edges. One heavy door is propped open, giving way to an even fancier entrance, the host dressed in a deep red dress, looking all the part of someone who belonged here. So much as you craved a luxurious lifestyle, it was still a foreign concept to you. You hadn’t even made it inside but you already felt like you stood out. You were happy to lounge at home in sweats and a tank top, though pants were optional if you had nothing to do that day. You walk in and take deep breaths through your nose and you approach the host stand. The woman glances up and gives a wide smile. “How may I help you, ma’am?” her tone is sugary, and you’re certain she’s actually genuine, your nerves settling somewhat. “Um, I’m meeting someone.” “Name?” the woman asks, opening up the black leather book on the stand. You bark out a laugh, shifting your weight between feet, and clear your throat. “Actually, I don’t know his name.” The host glances up at you, raising a brow. You bite your lip for a second. You almost make an excuse before wondering why the fuck you care what some host you’ll only meet once draws conclusions about from your dilemma. “He’s blond, spiky hair, very handsome,” you trail off, unsure the hostess would have any cue who you were talking about. “Ah,” the woman leans to the side, glancing around the slatted wall behind her to look across the dining room. She points to the back. “He should be right back there.” You smile and thank the hostess before making your way between tables. You spot him, drinking from a glass of water. He’s wearing a maroon button down, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow and the top two buttons open. The table cloth hides the rest of him but you’re sure he’s sporting nice shoes; he seems the type. He sets down his glass and suddenly vermilion stares back at you. Heat washes over you in a wave, a shy smile pulling at your lips. When you make it to the table he goes to stand, but you hold up a hand to stop him. “It’s fine.” You pull out the chair and sit, taking a deep breath. “I realized I probably should have asked your name.” you laugh. The man across from you curses under his breath. “Bakugou.” You smile “[L/N].” Bakugou clears his throat. “Uh, you look nice.” You were wearing a silver gown, off the shoulder, a quartz studded belt encircling your waist, the rest of the dress cascading in squared off bunches. Bakugou had caught a glimpse of strappy shoes and a toned thigh peeking through the slit in your dress. He was definitely not prepared to be left breathless by this woman. When they met, you were casual and he wanted nothing more than to tear you a new one. Now, you’re elegant and your smile is mesmerizing. Bakugou doesn’t know what to do about it. “So, um,” your voice brings him back. You had one hand on your glass, fingers tracing the condensation. You look nervous, so different from the defiant fire to your eyes from the previous week, and Bakugou is torn between hating it and loving that it’s probably because of him. “I’m not the kind of baby that asks for money up front, just so you know. I don’t want an allowance or anything like that.” “Right to business, huh?” Bakugou leans forward on his elbows, hands clasped in front of his mouth. You shift in your seat at the intensity of his gaze. You laugh curtly. “Yeah, I just like to get all of that out of the way so it’s less awkward when we get to know each other. I hate having it nag at me the whole time.” You take a sip of your water and glance around the restaurant. You don’t understand why you feel so nervous. Maybe because he’s the youngest sugar daddy you’ve met. Maybe it’s the heavy weight of those piercing eyes. Maybe it’s how unbelievably hot he is. Or is it D, all of the above? You think “So, what are you wanting, then?” You blink at him. “Oh, well. I guess I’m just looking to be pampered.” “Why—” “Good evening,” Both of you look at the server. Bakugou curls his lip, irked by the interruption. You greet him kindly before they are asked what they want. Bakugou orders the bottle of wine he’s been waiting for and turns to his date. “Know what you want?” he asks. You blush and quickly snatch the menu up. “No, I’m sorry.” He’s somewhat satisfied by your flustered state. “No worries. I shall return in a moment with your drinks.” The server leaves as quickly as he appeared. You chuckle nervously. “I should’ve checked first, sorry.” “Stop apologizing.” He snaps. He hadn’t meant for it to come out, but it’s become a reflex at this point after years spent shaking Kirishima out of his self-deprecating mindset. You look surprised for a moment, until a sly smile quirks the corner of your mouth. You are suddenly made aware that your date may be less reserved than you originally thought. “You were saying?” you prompt. Bakugou furrows his brows a moment before remembering what you’re referring to. “I was gonna ask why you don’t just date someone instead.” You purse your lips. He’s definitely bold, not holding his tongue for the sake of being polite. You appreciate it. “Well, I spend a lot of time at work and don’t really want to invest myself in looking for someone and settling down. I can’t risk being held back for a partner, no matter how much my mother hounds me for it.” Bakugou can’t help the smirk that makes its way to his expression. He’s quite similar in his reservations. “What about you?” she asks, eyes trained on the menu as she searches for something that sounds good. “I don’t have time to fuck around when I’m working to be the best.” He notices her quick glance up at the curse word, but she otherwise seems unbothered. “Interesting,” she murmurs, loud enough for him to hear. You are smirking, still reading the menu, not giving any explanation for what you mean. The server steps up to the table, wine bottle in hand. He pours you each a glass and sets the bottle on the table, taking your orders and scurrying off again. You drink from your glass while staring at Bakugou. He quirks a brow at you, one hand fiddling with his silverware while the other lays, palm flat to the table. “What?” You set your glass down but keep fingers wrapped around the stem, stare unwavering. “Have…you seem familiar.” Bakugou grins in an almost feral way. Your eyes narrow. You know that smile from somewhere, teeth bared in a subtly dangerous way. Wild hair and piercing red eyes… You open your mouth to speak, but Bakugou beats you to it. “I feel like I should be offended,” he leans in, smirk widening, and you tense. “After showing me up, playing hero,” At that your [e/c] eyes go wide. “you’d think you’d remember me.” You bush your chair back. “I’m sorry, I just– listen, I—” you start to stand, panic overtaking you, until fingers wrap tightly around your wrist. You heart stops for a second, meeting his stern glare. “Hold the fuck on. I’m not here to get you in trouble, idiot.” Bakugou wants to smack himself. He’s not trying to scare you off but he’d doing a damn good job of it. You hesitate. Slowly, you sit back in your seat, arm still held in a vice grip. “You’re…not? Even though I used my quirk in public like that?” He sighs and lets go of her wrist, leaning back in his chair. “No,” he takes a large drink of his wine before continuing. “When I realized it was you I was tempted, but…” Bakugou purses his lips, unsure of how to continue. “I don’t know. I wanted to see what kind of person pulls that kind of shit. I guess.” You eye him. He seems almost skittish, shoulders tensed up and holy shit you can see the muscles rippling under the button up. “I…so you’re Ground Zero?” her voice is barely above a whisper and Bakugou is thankful for the discretion. He nods. You nod in return, thinking. “I couldn’t help it. I just reacted, I guess.” Bakugou leans forward, prompting you to continue. “I always wanted to be a hero. My quirk is perfect for it, too.” You give a strained smile. “Energy manipulation and absorption. My hair acts as a conductor for me to draw in energy. Electric, kinetic, even drawing it from people if we touch skin-to-skin.” You wiggle your fingers around for emphasis. “I can take it and put that energy into my movements. As long as I move around I can channel it. Put extra power behind punches and jumps. Problem is, overuse leads to nosebleeds, migraines, and most importantly seizures.” You let out a heavy sigh through your nose, scooting your chair closer to the table and leaning forward. You keep your eyes off of Bakugou’s face, not keen on seeing how he reacts. “I had a pretty bad seizure when I was 14 and the doctor said if I pushed it I would be more prone to having them with future quirk use. So, being a hero was no longer an option. I mean, who wants a pro to go down in a fight due to a seizure? Too much risk.” Your voice trails off and you bite your lip. You glance up at Bakugou. His brow is pinched, a hard frown in place. “I didn’t mean to make it awkward—" “Shut up.” Your jaw clacks shut, eyes wide. Bakugou turns his head away with a huff. “It’s fine.” He flicks his eyes to match yours, one hand clenching and unclenching on the table. Bakugou wasn’t expecting that response. He’s only spoken with you for less than twenty minutes but he’s starting to understand that the woman seated across from him will not be anything he expects. It excites him. “What do you do instead?” he asks to change the subject. You light up almost immediately, smile spreading and bunching up your cheeks. Cute, he thinks. “I work in a lab! I’m the supervisor for my lab, actually. It’s a University funded lab, and my team works on experiments and studies related to physics with a little bit of kinesiology thrown in. Since my quirk has a lot to do with kinetic energy, I love conducting studies around it. We share somewhat with a team of chemists, but we generally get along.” Bakugou listens intently as you gush about your work and the seemingly crazy group you work with. Your food arrives and the two fall into a relative quiet as you eat. Bakugou is surprisingly comfortable with the lull in conversation. He’s used to Kirishima, who talks while stuffing his face, which usually turns into a lecture from the ash blond. On to pof that, his ex would get so caught up in talking that she’d let her food get cold. Bakugou finishes off his wine to drown the memory. You are mostly done with your meal when you prop your head in one hand and watch Bakugou. When his gaze lifts to yours, you smile softly. “What made you want to be a hero?” you ask with genuine curiosity behind bright [e/c]. Bakugou could give you an honest answer. He could tell you how he grew up being a big fan of All Might, became inspired by the number one hero to work hard and be even greater. If he were honest, he’d tell you that he still looks up to the former hero and has a faint desire to prove himself to his old teacher. But honesty is vulnerability, and Bakugou may as well have censored the entire concept of vulnerability from his mind entirely. Instead, he gives you a cocky smile and says, “With a quirk like mine, I knew I had to be the best.” You arch a brow, lips pressing together in a thin line. You hum noncommittally and Bakugou can tell you think his answer is bullshit. So used to his friends, he expects to be called out without mercy. For the third time that night you completely throw him for a loop. “Well, you’ve certainly made your way up there. Probably one of the best pros climbing the charts right now.” You know that he knows it’s purely said to sate him, but you bit back a smile when he visibly puffs up, a haughty demeanor taking root that’s near impossible to miss. “I’m not sure I ever imagined that the great Ground Zero would ever seek a sugar baby, much less of me.” You are pouring yourself another glass of wine as you say this. You lift the glass to your lips and lift your eyes to meet his. You’re startled by the sharp gaze that greets you. “If this is gonna happen then there’s gonna be rules,” he starts, tone eerily even. “First rule: don’t fucking sell yourself short. I’m the best and only accept the best, so quit shitting on yourself. I don’t wanna hear that self-deprecating bullshit.” All you can do is nod, throat tight. “Second,” Bakugou lounges back in his chair, not unlike a King who knows the power he holds over his court. You grip your glass tight, eye wide and attentive. He feels something warm swell in his chest at your undivided attention, warmth spindling up behind his sternum and into the dip where his throat meets collarbone. “I don’t want anyone to know I’m a sugar daddy. I don’t care what people think of me, but my PR agent would have my head if rumors like that went around. In public, we’re together, but no one needs details.” “You’re a private person, I take it?” your voice is quiet as you sip at the wine. “If I want someone to know my business, they will. My fans and the press don’t need to know shit about me outside of when I’m kickin’ ass.” He punctuates the sentiment with a deep scowl. You nod, smiling softly. “I agree. I’m not the kind of person to share my life with the world, only what I want them to see of me.” Bakugou grunts. “There’s gonna be events I take you to, public shit with press and all those fucking vultures. They’ll probably ask you about ‘us’ but you don’t gotta answer anything.” He narrows his eyes. “And if you do, watch what you say.” You chuckle. “You don’t need to worry.” Your smile widens, teeth on display and a playful glint in your eyes. “Do I get to call you any pet names?” “Not if you want to keep your tongue.” At that, you bust out in laughter. Patrons seated around you shoot glares your way, though neither seem to care. When you settle down, you tell him, “Noted. Anything else?” Bakugou flexes his jaw in thought. “Not right now but I’ll tell you if I think of anything.” The two fall into another comfortable silence as Bakugou finishes his meal. You observe the people around you, the way they hold an air of superiority about them despite no effort on their part, elegance second nature to them. You had worried that your date would leave you feeling inadequate, making you hyper aware of the role you were playing that felt so unfamiliar. Yet here you were with your favorite hero, feeling free to be as much yourself as the situation allowed. Hell, more so, even. The server comes by to leave the check and take their plates. Bakugou glances over the ticket, then reaches into his back pocket to retrieve his wallet. You expect a credit card, like the dates before him, but instead he pulls out large bills and tosses them onto the table. He stands and quickly moves to pull out your chair. He even goes so far as to offer his arm. You take it with a bashful smile. Once outside, you take a deep breath of the city air. This side of town was quieter, less pollution and traffic. Bakugou pulls away and faces you. “I’ll call you a cab.” “Oh no, I can take the train.” He shoots you a look that says ‘Excuse me?’ so you shut your mouth and look to your feet. The hero takes out his phone and taps away before putting it back in his pocket. “Are you telling me you took a fucking train to get here? In that?” Bakugou gives you a once over, jealously flaring inside his chest at the thought of others eyes you up like this. He’s unsure why he feels so strongly about it, but he’s long past the days of shoving his emotions into a box and wishes he just knew how to make the ugly feeling fuck right off. “Uh, yeah? I don’t have a car.” You shrug. A growl bubbles up from Bakugou’s throat and he takes a step closer to you. You straighten, face now mere inches from his, those vermilion orbs pinning you in place. “From now on, when we meet, I’ll pick you up.” You can only nod, voice gone under his gaze. He nods, stepping out of your space. You take a deep breath now that you feel you are able. “There’s a stupid gala in a week and a half. I’ll give you details later.” Bakugou holds out his hand and for a moment you stare at it, confused. He clears his throat. “I need your phone, dumbass.” You jolt with an “oh!” before pulling it from your purse and handing it to him. “It’s some fundraiser my agency and a couple others are throwing. I don’t remember what for, but heroes and other celebrities are gonna be there.” He hands you back the phone. “Be sure to dress nice. This is your debut.” As he says the last bit, he pulls a wad of cash from his wallet and holds it out to you. You balk, taking a moment to stare before your fingers timidly curl around the paper. “Buy something that’s solid. Even Mina is ditching print.” You have no idea who that is but just nod your head in understanding. He keeps making you feel like words are impossible to conjure. No one has ever made you so speechless. A car pulls up to the curb and Bakugou has the door open and is ushering you in before you even realize. From your seat, you blink up at your date owlishly. He leans on the car door, dim fairy lights casting a warm glow behind him. “And one last thing,” Bakugou leans in, forehead almost pressed to the car’s cool metal lip. His voice drops to a level only you can hear, a purr edging his words. “I better be the only you call Daddy. Got that?” You feel pins and needles prodding your cheeks and numbing your fingers. You nod dumbly. He shakes his head, arching a brow in expectation. Swallowing, you shift in your seat. “Yes, Daddy,” you whisper shyly. He rewards you with a wide smirk, teeth peeking out behind pink lips, and leans back, hand gripping the door and fuck you can’t stop gawking at those biceps. Bakugou feels pride at the way you eye his arms, and maybe he flexes a little just to show off. “Night, baby.” With that, the door slams shut and the car pulls away from the restaurant. You raise your voice enough to tell the driver your address, then return to the daze the hero had left you in. It takes a few long minutes before you are able to pull it together. You flip through the cash he gave you, eyes growing to saucers when you see he gave you a whole ¥50,000. You couldn’t believe he’d give you so much, and for a dress! You stuff it into your purse and pull out your phone, staring at the new contact. You huff at it, Bakugou having put his name, just plain and boring, and edit the contact, changing the name to Daddy followed by an explosion emoji. You pull up a new conversation and shoot off a text to ensure he has your number. The whole way home you grin like a maniac, a light buzzing resonating through your entire being. You’re in a daze as you climb up the 4 flights of stairs to your apartment, humming something random as you unlock your door, only grounding when Rōrupan barrels into you and sends you right on your ass. You place both hands on either side of the dog’s face, scratching intently and sighing dreamily. “It seems things are turning out pretty good for me, Rōru.” The rest of your night is a haze of excitement humming in your veins.

Bakugou makes it home, thoughts stuck on the woman he spent his evening with. When he walks through the door Senshi immediately appears at his feet, rubbing himself across Bakugou’s leg, purring loudly like he has a car engine for a heart. The blond picks him up and scratches under his chin while wandering around the loft aimlessly. He’s left with a light feeling, energy swimming through his body and he doesn’t understand it. All of this from one date? Bakugou scoffs as he sets Senshi on the bed. “You should have seen how gorgeous she was,” he mutters to the cat. He removes his shirt, receiving a chirp in response from his companion. “You’d like her…but I guess you’re a whore for anyone who will give you attention, huh?” Senshi rolls onto his back, wiggling and mewing, as if to say, “Why don’t you give me attention?” Bakugou rolls his eyes affectionately, then continues to get ready for bed. And if he dreams of carding his fingers through [h/c] hair and kissing soft skin, that’s only between him and his cat.

_-_-_-_-_

@sessi03

#my writing #bnha #bnha x reader #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #katsuki x reader #bakugouxreader #guys i was starting this chapter and then had an epiphany #during a nap i realized that i was going to turn what was intended to be a couple chapters at most #into a fucking slowburn #i hope you bitches are PREPARED #cause i'm not #but it literally keeps me awake at night thinking about where this shit's gonna go #i have basic ideas for the main shit but the rest i'm just like #whatever lets see what happens ig

[unproduciblesmackdown]

i was gonna send an ask like "have you considered: 'anger is a type of geography' + 4x11" and then i checked and you actually had! but if you feel like considering it More then here's a free space

oh thanks for these Layers of Allyship re: humoring my repeated [anger geography sign tapping] and checking for things and then sending me asks about it all to invite yet more Consideration.........yeah i feel like i mentioned it at least once in tags or smthing lol??? but here comes yet more consideration / giving it an In The Text post if that doesn’t exist already yet either

the Anger Is A Type Of Geography Quote From Hanif Abdurraqib in question for everyone’s reference:

anger is a type of geography. the ways out of it expand the more you love a person. the more forgiveness you might be willing to afford each other opens up new and unexpected roads. and so, for some, staying angry at someone you love is a reasonable option. to stay angry at someone you know will forgive your anger is a type of love, or at least it is a type of familiarity that can feel like love.

like, yeah sure what with winston originally talking to lauren and mafee about this and taylor Happening to walk in on it, he probably wasn’t necessarily planning to go off on his Indignant Monologue to taylor right then and there, but the fact remains that he was willing to do so, and i definitely think that that wouldn’t be the case if he didn’t have this Respect for them and think that they have respect for him in turn, and if he didn’t also think that that mutual respect is holding hands with mutually valuing each other. like, he wouldn’t say it if he didn’t think taylor might actually listen / consider what he says, and he wouldn’t even Want to say it if he didn’t give a shit about them, because he’s not just complaining about “um i simply ask for more money,” it’s about the fact he Feels Disrespected by the implied deprioritization of tmc employees and that the way this (false lol) choice is presented to them being Unfair and disingenuous. like, you could (and im sure most viewers do) interpret the other stuff he says as just him backing up his “Pay Me” argument when all he really cares about is the Pay Me part, but a) that’s not how We roll and b) doesn’t make sense with winston being just as happy as anyone else in 4x12with taylor Apologizing re: many of these 4x11 points, despite them not saying they were gonna change the Bonus situation lol, and c) it Does make sense to think that the Mutual Respect between taylor and winston matters to him due to [see: the rest of this post]

well wait lol first of all yeah sure the money Must matter to him b/c nobody could possibly be in the world of High Finance as a passion project (except for taylor apparently lmao cuz i mean we know that the Real reason they are determined to stick with hedge fundery (and involved in the first place) is b/c they are the best part of the show and elevate all the other Lesser Elements of it as well) and also we can figure that this was probably winston’s first year working a Big Time Official Job and he doesn’t have the savings that other ppl might when they’ve been in the business multiple years, and this seems to be backed up by lauren referring to him as they guy who’d be the First One Smothered by either taking a bonus cut by 40% or not getting that bonus at all until a whole other year, which, like he seems to also imply, is also Unhelpful in that surely these investment finance people turn around and invest their own finances, and Bonus Now is better than Bonus Then b/c.....interest....Long Shares.......and also just like tfw you want your job to pay you.......but anyways Seriously [next paragraph]

cuz winston *must* be working at Taylor Mason Capital b/c he really values working with taylor more than, say, wanting a job that will make him the most money, or will necessarily look the best on a resumé if he’s just looking to up his stats, b/c yeah, this is sure an unlikely opportunity for him where this is what we’re assuming is his First Fancy Job and he’s getting to be the Top Quant right out of the gate, but he must also know that like, it’s still like “oh so you were head quant at a brand new fund :/” and also he must know that there’s a Risk with said fund and he might even end up having been head quant at a new fund that burned out really quick, super impressive........and, we Know that winston *knows* how good he is at what he does, even though he keeps getting dunked on for that like he’s sooo conceited lol like. he IS that good, sorry!!!! why should he downplay it, we don’t actually see him being one of these shitheads with a fragile ego trying to prove themselves Superior or whatever.....ANYWAYS yeah the point being that, winston claiming to have a lot of offers already in the interview might very well Not be any kind of bluff, and he’d surely know that he could rise through the Quant Ranks quickly enough at some other fund even if he started out as anything but Our Main Quant at those places.......and if Getting Tf Paid Top Dollar was really his primary concern, “go with the brand new hedge fund which doesn’t have Established History / Experience / Clout and has the one big investor but who knows what’ll come next and any business that Just opened is not your safest bet even if you trust in your own skill and in that of your ceo and you Know that even if you’re not immediately destroyed, funds will be tighter / of a Lesser Amount than at a bigger established fund”.........the now-dramatic-irony of him talking about how those Tech Firms Out West pay guarantees, not bonuses.........like, when he was trying to get onboard with axe cap, he was obvs interested in trying to leverage to get Paid more, which is like, not necessarily winston wanting to be a trillionaire but also just how stupidly everyone’s supposed to like Play The Game of negotiating / leveraging / calling your employer’s bluff to get a certain starting salary / get a raise or whatever, dumb as hell baked-in Requirement........discuss your wages with coworkers gang!!! anyways. and but Also winston makes it clear when interviewing for axe cap that Working With Taylor Mason has appeal, even if he’s flippant about it, cuz he’s flippant about all of it cuz that’s his shtick here.....

like, when it’s Taylor Alone who calls him back eventually, he’s fine with meeting up with Just Them, and later on meeting up with Just Them (and the other quants, rip) again, and agrees to work in this lil basement evidently Not on axe cap premises b/c he’d been at axe cap’s offices and this is Not That Place......and yeah him talking about taylor selling axe on using his algorithm in kompenso sure implies that winston has this whole time Assumed that all of this was still ultimately in the service of axe cap.......and he was apparently fine with reporting to Taylor Alone and not getting to rub elbows with any other higher-ups, and he’s obviously pleased well enough with a “good work :)” from taylor and isn’t like “hey be sure to tell axe & co i did this singlehandedly etc” or anything, and he’s not really complaining about the whole “work in this lil basement Not at axe cap hq with taylor mason dropping in at least once to check on you and that’s about it” situation, which obviously is hardly that “You’re A Valued Axe Cap Employee” treatment one might expect if they wanted that.....winston’s glad that taylor called him, he’s trying to appeal to them and what *they* want to see rather than how he tried to go for what he thinks [a place like axe cap] would wanna see like he did in the interview, he’s showing up at this weird basement rendezvous to be on a 3 person quant team of taylor’s, he’s fine to not only do this on his own but also accept those increased demands that make it a [fifty(? or 15, either way) phds would work on this]-Level task, and then he’s glad just to have taylor’s approval at the end of the day.......they Wouldn’t have been able to promise him any leverage of “please do your best work on this” with like, promotions / clout within axe cap or axe-cap-levels of Lots Of Payment b/c like, well taylor wouldn’t outright lie anyways but also Especially wouldn’t if they wanted to keep this quant around for tmc, so winston must never have been asking about that kind of thing

and then, bless your Missing Scene fic but there’s zero canon content re: “uh how/when did taylor break it to winston that this algorithm was for their own fund actually and btw do you want to work for that fund instead,” but presumably it went smoothly enough, he was already happy to Effectively work for them alone apparently even if he still thought that yeah, he was working for taylor who was working for axe........just Yeah altogether it’s evident that “Working With Taylor Mason” must matter more to him than “working with any Other big name financiers” or “getting paid as much as he can get” or “raking in that clout asap to leverage with Other jobs or just like, in general.”

and then of course you have the fact that taylor is Recognizing his ability by calling him back and offering him this job, going “despite your demeanor your skills are superior” and “those other two were sweet, but you’re more talented, i need you,” [praying hands emoji], and giving him this Second Chance and entrusting him with this Solo re: building this algorithm which, unbeknownst at the time to him, is really this linchpin of their hopes & dreams of launching their own secret fund here, and really they must’ve been planning from the start to keep him around if he succeeded b/c it’s not like the algorithm and their whole planned Quant Department wouldn’t continue to be integral to the fund’s success, it wouldn’t really be ideal to have this guy be the one to build an algorithm to reel in an investor who’s working in.....wait for it......billions of dollars here, and then be like, okay bye dude. they must Know how good he is same as winston knows how good he is, and him being Head Quant from the very start was surely never just about mase cap having precious few employees at the very start of things....they could’ve like given him that Lead Position temporarily or whatever, they’re ceo. but they really do value him as like, maybe he doesn’t have the ideal ~personality~ for what fucking ever, either for being Properly Assertive and Impressively Flashy like axe cap might want, or just easy to work with, which taylor would care more about than axe cap would lol, but yknow, they value his Abilities and surely they must also value his efforts re: I Promise To Try and re: his really singlehandedly making that brilliant amazing algorithm which evidently did the trick as they hoped it would

and then......dare i get to the Emotional part of things, the Interpersonal....the anger and the love...............

i mean already when winnie n tay are having their post-math-meetup meetup, aka the first time they’re meeting After their disastrous really-first meeting aka the Interview, you have winston taking a way more grounded approach to this “yeah i want to work for you please accept me” process which is obviously in response to what he thinks Taylor wants from him based on the mess of the interview, evident thanks to winston telling them that he’s been thinking about all of that.......and i mean, part of taylor’s whole thing is they have that grounded approach pretty much always lol, (or try to....Want to...), but they sure seem to Also be bringing this effort to Accommodate him based on the hot mess of the interview, wherein yeah they wouldn’t’ve expected to have to ever interact again with this person they were dunking into the trash (and of course from that Meta Perspective, the scene when originally written was meant to be winston’s only appearance ever), but they really seem to also be bringing a more dialed down approach, letting him talk first and going along with his “you ever done math meetup” intro until he’s the one who changes the subject, and i really see that Head Tilt as a sympathetic one lol, not necessarily like “awww :’0″ levels lmao but still like. they Know he’s likely to have some [emotional vulnerability] re: what last went down between them since they weren’t especially gentle with him then, and they like, demonstrably give a shit about that fact lol. they’re also not just wholly swinging in the other direction to make up for it or anything lol but they’re Also making it clear that, yknow, they’re willing to work with him For Real, not just in this “are you willing to work for me, y/n, okay great” way, but in this way of [winston making an effort to make things easier on taylor] and [taylor making an effort to make things easier on winston] which is already playing out here between them.

and the whole matter of winston’s seemingly genuine Dismay at messing up even part of this exchange, i.e. the “[wince-ston] damn it, sorry,” like, sure maybe he just really wants the job, but [see: everything above about how he Must primarily want to work with taylor re: wanting any of these jobs lol] and, after all, he “oh shit, sorry”s @ them when he’s well-established as their Head Quant in ep 4x08 and generally shows this directed-at-self displeasure at thinking he’s messed something up even without some clear “your (potential) job is on the line” element......he just Doesn’t Want To Disappoint Taylor Themself, doesn’t need some particular fear of further repercussion behind that.

and speaking of Lack Of Fear, you Know we love to point out how kompenso (and really winston’s :/ + “sure, why not :\”ness at the end of 3x09 lol) demonstrates that winston isn’t afraid of taylor either as an [intense and unusually-demeanor'd person who Does apparently strike people as Scary(tm) sometimes lol] or as this Esteemed Rising Star Axe Cap Higher-Up or simply as his de facto boss.........he’s not raring to tell them that the other quants bailed b/c of his own disapproval lol, but he’s honest as soon as they deduce as much, the tone of “fine, yes, big time” + his standing up to get even closer to them instead of just shaking in his desk chair like :c pls forgive me obviously does Not convey that he’s terrified of them, and then the rest of that interaction jsut being like, ugh god so fucking essential, they’re both able to stand face to face and be like I Am Looking Directly At It / I Do See It re: each other, both of them just continuing to be Honest and Direct with each other, God.....taylor might’ve swatted his metaphor away but he was not all that put out, and then they’re Using His Own Language by bringing it back three seconds later, like, yeah sure at this point they have a vested interest in this individual quant (the only one left lol) accepting this Demanding Task, but a) they’re not exactly playing it cool on that front, they Just said “i need You,” it’s unlikely that this is just some all manipulative tactic here by encouraging his metaphor after all lol and that’s hardly their style anyways even if they Can be strategic(tm) about things, and b) they’ve Just Previously adopted his own words lol with winston having said “as for not being a dick” and taylor saying “you backslid into being a dick” (combining His Phrasing with Theirs aka “if you promise not to backslide”....god!!!!!!)

and so then yeah to top it all off winston even ~pushes his luck~ lol by being a lil deliberately rude re: his ex-coworkers lmaoo, and you get taylor’s Reaction to being sort of tested here to be Closing Off Their Expression (speaking of....their tiny lil Eyebrow Twitch when winston infers that he’s making something to pitch to an investor.....god!!!!!! a) winnie n tay and b) emmy) and making it clear that their interest in him acting Easy To Work With was a practical matter......winston watching them go up the stairs, taylor looking back at him as they Ascend and he gets back to his desk.....jesus

the point being!!! they vibe with each other so well by Kompenso already and just *get* how the other operates and communicates and Neither Of Them are offput by the other, Neither Of Them are unwilling or uninterested in meeting each other where they’re at, and each exerting this effort to really work with each other........and how winston is Not intimidated by taylor as either someone who’s so ~weird~ and can be so Intense, or as someone who is his boss lol........which yknow we always also point out as Important re: tayston developing from this point, where taylor would be careful in how they approach winston about fwbship but would feel like it was even reasonable to consider it in the first place thanks to not having to feel like oh he definitely wouldn’t feel comfortable being honest if he wanted to say no / wasn’t sure

also Yeah It’s Billions but winston freely swearing with the F-word when they’re assessing the completed algorithm, which taylor has no reaction to lol.......the both of them being Hyped about this algorithm lol, like, Of Course they’d both be, but it’s fun :)

and then 4x03, with winston not acting terrified about there being potential Algorithm Problems, and taylor making sure to be like “don’t you dare blame latency” lol like which obv he May Have been planning to mention lol since he’s intending to give this technical answer rather than throwing out his Front Running / Interference Theory like mafee then does.....fun little moment too anyways.......taylor Allowing winston’s tangent about being cassandra and emails and “it’s pronounced owned,” like, they’re not raring to Interrupt / cut him off even if it’s Not obvious what he has to say is absolutely crucial and considered relevant by everyone else, and they’re not telling him he’s a stupid idiot and wasting their time or anything else before sending him away.......imagine. and just think about the beauty of winston very intently / earnestly saying his “i’m cassandra: Always Seeing The Future” right to taylor. 

and in 4x08 they build on his metaphor Again after having just Validated him despite everyone else really wanting to do the opposite lol......i “lol” but would everyone else lay off a little Lol......his self-reproach upon Registering that disapproval / oh-no-i’ve-messed-upness again.......then despite winston Standing Right Beside and then Sitting Right Behind taylor they don’t really interact l o l .....we have taylor being all “why is He so happy” and silently observing his Solo “i won” moment, rip, but also congrats.....and then i suppose that covers the Prior To 4x11 stuff lol

just......even re: the relative little we’ve Seen between them up to that point, winston might not have intended to talk to taylor right then, and he might or might not have intended to eventually talk to them in front of anyone else, but You Know He Knows that taylor listens to him, and that he doesn’t have to like, say things in what other people think is The Right And Effective Way to talk (even by billions’s fucking off the shits standards on that front lol), because taylor Does care about what he actually means and what his actual intentions are, not just “oh that very direct/honest thing you said Seemed rude whether you intended it or not”.......the “sad” after his yngwie malmsteen metaphor was the only time they’ve critiqued something like that lol and they then used that metaphor, So, and they’ve copied him calling himself a dick lol, and they built on his Sword metaphor, and they’ve just always been interested in Understanding him and communicating effectively with him, not in trying to get him to communicate differently or just making sure he knows He Should Feel Bad about how he Does communicate, though god knows the latter is something that everyone else seems to be somewhat #about. god knows some axe capper would have that “are you finished?” simply be the Purely Rhetorical intro to their barrage of Dunking-Upon insults, although it sure seems possible that that could’ve been sort of gently dismissive enough anyways to Encourage winston to not be finished even if maybe he would’ve stopped there otherwise.....but everyone else follows taylor’s lead in Not Actually Interrupting Him at any point, despite all the 9_9 and >:| as it were, and like, even though taylor then lets this whole thing end just with mafee going tf off on winston and bullying him into deferring and would-be deference, b/c winston might have this amount of moxie and he might be honest and he might not be scared of taylor (or anyone else here really) but he’s obviously not that assertive and definitely not that aggressive, he’s self-loathing, he’s easily put out, and all of this just bolsters how much it means that he communicates so well with taylor, b/c they’re Not interested in anything that would be counterproductive to actual effective communication but which might be “productive” if they had a goal of wanting to twist his arm about anything or pressure him into acting a certain way or just fueling their own ego or sense of superiority, axe cap style. they Value all his actual input and they have this respect for him where they don’t Want to bully him even if it’s not that difficult, like, yeah mafee was being mean to him for sure and trying to insult him into simply shutting tf up rather than like, actually responding to any of his points or doing anything but reinforcing them, but also winston has been Put Out by milder [negative responses] too, it’s of course more than just “i respect you too much to like, yell at you and try to diminish you”

and Frankly Winston Was Right and he may have been Indignant and he may not have been ~polite~ about it (though like, relative to how he is generally this Direct And Honest, there’s also not all that much evidence he’s deliberately trying to add some extra servings of Rudeness or anything) but once again like with the “as for not being a dick, i can’t absolute guarantee it” moment and the “fine, yes, big time” moment, and the “im sure it’ll go faster without the dead weight; Whoops ;)” moment, and the [talking about the algorithm problems] moment, and him freely jumping in with the “this plan might get us killed (not literally)” and “it’s b/c it sucks that they had to decapitate their dad, also not literally lol....although...” remarks, he’s just like, never afraid to tell taylor something that sure might not be the most pleasant for them to hear, and sure might not be something they Want to hear. and what’s Honest is that he’s Angry about this, and they won’t want to hear that and that they will even less want to hear his Honest Thoughts about why this is unfair, but he’s willing to say that to them, and even though we were like “haha boy winston if this isn’t fixed big time you might wanna quit :/” it’s also like, he must’ve trusted them to not wanna just fire him for lack of reverence to his ceo, and we can Juxtapose this with a) the scene that we’re set up to juxtapose it with, wherein a group of axe cappers carefully tell axe he’s being dumb as hell and might fuck all of them over, and axe tells them all to shut the fuck up b/c He Is Their Sun and he can do what he wants and get the fuck out of here, and we can also juxtapose it with b) winston being jumped on immediately in The Interview for ~lack of reverence~ to the potential employer, putting on this cocksure hotshot act (trying to..) and daring to express confidence in himself and be like “i should be interviewing you” / you should be selling to Me lol......jump to 4x11 and winston is caught off guard, he’s not putting on any kind of act, he’s not trying to appeal to anyone, sure mafee might turn it around on his [last we checked, the quant hates himself]ness, but this wasn’t about Winston Lashing Out b/c he’s angry at himself, he’s angry at Them for not valuing him, for what he perceives as them not even *really* giving them the option of the 60% Now approach, which sure seems to be justified seeing as apparently nobody but lauren goes for it and after winston invokes the Peer Pressure / pressure to seem Loyal / Committed by deferring, mafee immediately uses that [social pressure] to crush his dissent........where was i. right like. winston’s truly just Mad At Someone Else this time, he wouldn’t be here if his self-esteem was so low that he was immediately ready to just accept and absorb this treatment, and he Knows that taylor will actually listen to him which is their fuckin Mutual Respect thing and who tf else does that for him all the time, and he knows that taylor doesn’t value their own ego above everything else Unlike Some People, and he knows that he can be honest and get an honest reaction and that their honest reaction to his honesty is not “ugh you’re stupid / annoying / rude / etc,” b/c he’s Not, and that might be everyone else’s idea of him to some degree, but taylor Gets him better than that

and then you don’t quite have taylor being obviously Angry back, but they’re not exactly thrilled, and letting mafee go off on winston / effectively telling him they expect him to consider That the response and in turn respond back to that, can sure be interpreted as an expression of something a little short of pure goodwill and best intentions towards him here lol......again, i lol through the pain.......winston only has further reason to be angry, his Complaints weren’t resolved in the least and he came in all “i feel disrespected” and surely that’s only been doubled down on, b/c this isn’t Just “pay me goddamnit,” it’s really also just about the fundamental respect itself, which he figured that taylor cares about too, and so this would be something he could appeal to / expect them to earnestly.....he feels like none of them are being valued more than this feud with axe cap, he (maybe) feels like said feud is causing the quants’ work to be deprioritized in favor of more elaborate schemes based on “what will screw axe over specifically,” he feels like he’s not being valued as a Very Important Employee, he feels like this False Choice thanks to Social Pressure is insult to injury, like they’re not supposed to get a real chance to question this. boy i’m really just going off talking about any and all aspects of this huh, where’s the Anger Geography core here

well here it is: winston doesn’t ever talk to taylor in any more Filtered way due to them being his boss / him feeling a need to be more careful around them, if anything, they’re the one person he can be Least filtered around, b/c they care about What He Actually Means and aren’t all hung up on whether his communication style seems gratingly weird / wrong / offputting. winston isn’t bringing any particular leverage to this situation, yeah sure he pointed out He’s Valuable but he also did that in the interview with even less leverage and in the basement when he thought he was just working on some weird side project for axe cap in this remote quant dungeon - he’s counting on them to just Listen To Him and care about what he means, same as he always does and like they’ve done thus far. and he’s Temporarily Burned by this, which is tragic, but then 4x12 happens, and who knows if taylor and winston talked between these scenes at all cuz billions sure won’t say at all, but either way winston sure seems to pick up on the fact that taylor is responding to his Complaints here, the implication they were taking a too-axe-esque approach to them now answered by taylor deliberately differentiating themself from axe, and asserting that they Do value their employees and their contributions, and that taylor has this responsibility to them, and maybe Had gone astray there with the revenge jag but aren’t actually interested in that being the core of everything.........winston is Validated and we realize it and he seems to realize it lol, he definitely Was listened to, and he sure wasn’t like fired or anything, he Could Be Angry with them and that wasn’t going to lead to taylor wanting to sever even the Professional relationship or anything like that. sure seems to be no grudge held between them during the “q is for quantitative, babey” scene there lol and yeah it’s billions and shit moves fast / people will roll with A Lot of mistreatment apparently (see: winston also does not seem to harbor any grudge against mafee here lol but who knows) but the Fact Is, here they are, having found A Way Out Of [Anger], after having had this altercation which wouldn’t even have been possible if Winston hadn’t felt it was possible for them to interact like this, for him to be mad and be honest about that anger and the hows and whys of it and for that Not to be a dead end between them or something that could shatter the relationship entirely. and he was Validated!!!!

and guess who i also love to quote and paraphrase lol i also think of mariame kaba talking about interpersonal Conflict being possible Opportunities in a relationship, because working through said conflict can allow the relationship to grow / deepen / strengthen. which sure seems to Hold Hands with this idea: that you can Be Angry with someone because you already know that won’t break the relationship, and that even if you don’t already know that, going through that experience / process of Being Angry with someone and coming out the other side together will show that the relationship can handle that / will have involved gaining tools to be able to handle that going forward. and really like, we’ve seen winston Forgive taylor’s anger at him right off, and that may not be the sweeping heights of love but it came from Understanding (and....low self-es steam probably lol) but no really, he Shows that he understands why they reacted like that by behaving in this way that he figures is more in line with what they actually want, just talking and being direct with no boxes or [wags] or standard boring interview questions or posturing, showing he’s willing to work with them in the “please hire me” and “i’ll try to Behave” ways lol........and taylor is offering their own patience and sympathy and restraint and Understanding and willingness to bend.......things are happening on an emotional plane between them here.

and then after winston chooses to be on board with mase cap, and after he’s worked for them so long that it’s comp time baby, and after these few Sample Interactions we’ve seen in which taylor doesn’t cut winston down or show contempt for him and they continue to directly or indirectly validate him, winston can be Angry with them and taylor can (definitely Sorta) be Angry back, and winston surely even Stayed Angry after that scene in 4x11, and he didn’t quit, and was that [terrible self-esteem actually lol] or was it him believing that there could be a way out of this state of anger between him and taylor? both?? we get to decide!! b/c he’s sure not Validated and Vindicated until later lol.....what does he sit there on that couch alone in that room and Think in those moments...........and then once things Are better resolved, they have this whole [episode of conflict] in their history, and like is the whole Point of all of this, that’s hardly necessarily just some awful and unfortunate thing.......their relationship can survive something like that, and the conflict sure sparked this kind of Genuine Interaction between them which couldn’t have happened if winston just shied away from all this / kept it to himself because he didn’t think taylor would Listen or Care or Understand. 

and it’s Not Just About The Money, and even when he expresses that he’s upset about this perceived disrespect / not being valued as an employee, we Know that he’s not someone who’s got this need to feel superior to everybody else / like he’s always Winning, and we know he’s not after Maximum Clout, but he does want to Work With taylor and he evidently wants to feel valued By Them, who does happen to be his boss and does have this avenue to potentially treat any employees unfairly. and we know that winston *knows* in this objective way how good his work is, and both winston and taylor have acknowledged that yeah, His Work / professional quantly ablities have value, so winston Knows he should expect for that to be valued in the form of “your quantributions are important and you’re getting paid to reflect that”........and that he feels like he’s for once not being Allowed Honesty re: everyone supposedly being pressured into deferring is like..........what do he and taylor have if not earnest, open communication b/c they both value and respect what the other Really Has To Say!!!!!! that’s winnie n tay and it’s also tayston.

which, speaking of which, Sidenote: when it comes to tayston hcs we generally have this as a “they’re not currently doing Their Thing at this point anyways, and maybe the fact that that’s been ended (and they Haven’t been talking through this particular conflict yet) is adding to the tension / anger / feeling of not being valued hahaha rip” deal lol, but also if they Were still currently in their fwb/[???]ship like obviously this would spill over and probably require an at-least-temporary halt to give everyone some space seeing as it’d be a little impossible to truly completely Set That Aside in the recent aftermath l o l ......but despite the lingering tension / awkwardness that would be present whenever they Do next meetup [imagine: an I Was On The Phone With You, Sweetheart phonecall prior to 4x12′s scene?? wrow] the layers to that ensuing sex lol......reunion sex? makeup sex? not-hate-sex-but-maybe-still-needing-to-vent-a-lil-Emotional-frustration-maybe sex? maybe all of the above and more

ANYWAYS even i don’t know why this is so long, and also it’s 7am. i definitely think that winston trusted taylor and the Relationship between them to be able to handle Anger (his, for once, lol) and for that Anger to even potentially be something Constructive. and he was right. and in 4x12 he’s there with them at the very end, wearing the tmc logo, standing behind them in the hellhole which is axe cap hq, knowing that taylor is the one person (here, certainly) who definitely Gets and who’s Got him, who’s asserted this loyalty and commitment to him after he’s certainly done that re: them, and once again winston definitely has this Choice to be here with them just like he must’ve had that choice to join up with their fund in the first place, he’s never been trapped with them or forced into alliance with them, and we just Know that he’s not choosing to be here just for Linkedin reasons / what’s best for career advancement and/or for raking it in as best as he can manage and/or for gaining clout and status or whatever, and we sure never see him reaping some kind of deluxe treatment/benefits just for being closely associated with taylor / having their approval. everything we see points to winston caring most about what happens between him and taylor and that he gets to work with them and that he’s here because of that mutual respect and value for each other. 

and really, the show also repeatedly tells us that winston Does basically have these world-class abilities and *is* that valuable, and we know that winston Knows how good he is, and he must’ve legitimately had all those offers and known that he’s really good enough that these places Should compete for him. he must’ve known that he has this Potential here and all of these options laid out in front of him, and he takes taylor’s call and shows up in a basement for them and singlehandedly writes an algorithm good enough to found their fund upon and he follows them there when now he’s got this Proof of just how incredible his work is and could’ve leveraged that anywhere else. but his relationship with taylor has always had this personal aspect to it and the fact is that, even with his choice of Paths laid out in front of him, he chose and keeps choosing the geography of winnie n tay. Love. thank you and goodnight

#time to attempt a nap!!!! Them!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! #winston billions #tayston #nothingunrealistic1

[greyias]

Author Questions

Tagged by @aearyn, who is managing to catch me at the right moments with these tag games. (I owe the rest of you one Tag Meme to Rule Them All -- The Sequel )

Author Name: Greyias

Fandoms You Write For: Currently just SWTOR, because I am monofannish like that. Formerly: Stargate Atlantis, Four Brothers, Bonanza, Rawhide

Where You Post: AO3, Pillowfort, and good ol’ refuses-to-die-despite-shooting-itself-in-the-foot-a-million-times Tumblr. I also have an old FFnet account, but I don’t post on it anymore

Most Popular One-Shot: Because I’m lazy over on AO3 and don’t want to generate a title and description for all my prompt stuff over here, it’s a bit hard to determine, but via Tumblr notes... probably this cracktastic Fractured Alliances fic that was written pre-Copero. Technically this ficlet I wrote as a companion piece to a KoFi sketch I got from @nsfwfrosch has more... but I think those are probably more from the fabulous art 😉

Most Popular Multi-Chapter Story: I’m going to go with the recently finished monstrosity that is By Guidance from the Stars

Favorite Story You Wrote: Goodness why must I pick amongst my babies??? I actually do go back and forth depending on the day, but... Unsent Correspondence still holds a very special place in my heart

Story You Were Nervous to Post: It feels like cheating to say Smoke and Sand, since it was my first fic I had written and posted in like ten years, and in a new fandom to boot. Beyond that, I think Unsent Correspondence, because I was really emotionally attached to the project, kind of went out on a limb exploring the limits of Theron’s characterization (that the game later verified with the tr8r arc), and as a whole it’s such a drastically different approach to storytelling I wasn’t sure if it was going to put people off.

How Do You Choose Your Titles: Lots of sobbing and alcohol? I obsess over titles a lot of the time as well as descriptions, because I feel like they’re kind of part of “marketing” your fic to readers? And also I really, really suck at them most of the time and spend way too long on Wikipedia or quote websites or the dang thesaurus trying to find something that will work.

Do You Outline: It depends on the type of work I’m writing. On something smaller I might just write straight out, getting the idea(s) onto paper as quick as possible. The longer and more detailed a story starts to get, the more I begin to outline. Finishing up By Guidance of the Stars, I would actually go through several draft outlines, from a summary, that’d be expanded to me basically word vomiting what I wanted to happen or just me arguing with myself on what I’d forgotten, that I would then take and actually write liner notes that was half-actual narration and dialogue, half a gist of a sentence, before I went in and filled it out with real words and grammar. I kind of seem to discover a new process every week, depending on what mode my brain is in.

Complete: Okay I’m just gonna count SWTOR stuff to make my number crunching easier... between multichaptered fic and prompts... 80 -- dear lord that’s a lot more than I realized it was.

In-Progress: I will count what’s only currently published and unfinished and that number is... ONE. The Date Night fic, which no one really realizes is unfinished because each part is self-contained. But I know it’s unfinished and that bugs the heck out of me.

Coming Soon: I had to open Scrivener for this. And for this I will count what only currently has an actual word count or outline (and is not just an idea floating in my head that I haven’t written down) so... 10. One of which is actually really close to being done, I just have to wrap it up. And I have, um, a few unfinished prompts in my askbox.*shifts guiltily* Sorry about that...

Do You Accept Prompts: I do, and apparently I really like writing them because that ridiculously high completed count? Like a good 80-85% of that number are prompts  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Upcoming Story You Are Most Excited to Write: Oh god, it’s not even on my numbers above because I technically haven’t even started a document or outline yet, just talked my poor friends’ ears off about it -- but it’s a canon-divergent AU I’m tentatively calling “Chance Encounters”, where Theron and Grey meet aboard the Esseles, and by random happenstance continue to bump into each other at various points in the Vanilla storyline. It’s stupidly adorable and angsty at points, but I’m going to finish these other things first.

Tagging: @queen-scribbles, @storyknitter, @a-muirehen, @brietopia, and @for-the-flail (and anyone else who wants to tag themselves in)

#thank you for the tag! #tag thing #meme thing #one day i'll catch up on all my tag games #one fine day #(today is not that day)

[sabraeal]

i got tagged by @l0chn3ss....again, over a week ago....I’M CATCHING UP I PROMISE

1. How did you come up with your username and what does it mean?

I think I just have always used this username for internet things. I picked it back when I was working on a fic that involved a hierarchy of angels -- Sabraeal’s dominion is healing and illness. It seemed apropos, back when I was certain I was going to cure cancer with my biology degree

2. Which fanfic of yours has the most feedback? (bookmarks/favorites, follows/subscriptions, visitor hits, kudos)

In a move that surprises no one, Seven Suitors for Shirayuki on AO3.

On tumblr it is Were Hearts Not an Unknown Country

3. What is your FFnNet/AO3 profile icon, and why did you choose it?

It’s the same as my tumblr icon, and I love it. @heartamplifier made it for me and it is gorgeous

4. Do you have any regular/favourite commenters?

Besides @superhappybubbleslove and @claudeng80 on tumblr, I have a handful of semi=regular commenters on AO3 who I don’t know personally but would probably die for

5. Is there a fanfic that you keep going back to read again and again?

I feel like not one SPECIFICALLY. I have phases where I’m like, time to go hurt myself and read ISM’s fics, or like time to go read sarah’s regency fic and scream about how i want them to make out, or like let’s read the sexy alt timeline to Ever After again because I feel like lightly suffering. Sometimes I get in the mood for fics from other pairings I love and go read their greatest hits

6. How many stories are you subscribed to? How many do you have bookmarked?

I had 46 bookmarked and 7 stories subbed to

7. Which AU do you find yourself writing the most?

Modern AUs, for some reason, and when I’m lucky, fantasy/magic AUs

8. How many people are subscribed and bookmarked to you in total? (you can view this on the stats page)

57 user subscriptions, 345 fic subscriptions, 487 bookmarks

9. Is there something you’d like to write about but are afraid of people judging you for it? (Feeling brave? If so, share it!)

Not...overly? Though I just realized I might be signing myself up for shark dick, Shape of Water-esque smut and I just....don’t know how i feel about that turn in my life.

10. Is there anything you would like to be better at? Writing certain scenes or genres, replying to comments, updating better, etc.

I’d love to be able to focus more when I write. I have such little non-baby time to write, and I can have a real problem buckling down and getting stuff done. Thanks ADD, you’re a real peach/

11. Do you write rarepairs or popular ships more often?

Uhhhhh well, I guess popular ships, since Obiyuki EXPLODED since I started writing for it. But I do have some rare pair content coming up, so my time right now is split

12. How many stories have you posted on FFNet/AO3 to this day (finished and unfinished)?

I have 40 works, though some of those are collections of one-shots, so that’s anyone’s guess, honestly

13. How many stories do you have saved in/with your writing program?

I am not counting that, lord have mercy.

14. Do you write down story ideas, or just keep them in your head?

Write them down! As long as I’ve decided they’re gonna get written, everything gets written down (unless it’s SUPER short)

15. Have you ever co-authored a story?

NOT YET

16. How did you discover FFNet/AO3?

Oh children. Children. I’m over 30. I was THERE when that shit was made.

17. Do you consider yourself to be a popular or famous author in your fandom(s) on FFNet/AO3?

I’d say in terms of ANS, yes, but it’s a big fish, small pond situation. In terms of popular authors in bigger fandoms, I am a very, very small fish

18. Do you have a nickname or fandom name for your readers?

I....do not?

19. Was there an author who inspired or encouraged you to write?

Not...specifically? I was always really driven to write. In terms of fandom...I think I only was so determined to post Seven Suitors because I thought @infinitelystrangemachinex needed to be able to read more than 2 good fics that weren’t her own writing

20. What writing advice would you give to a beginning author?

Enjoy the process. If you’re only focused on telling the events, you’ll always be bored after you’ve outlined the story. Get pumped for showing off your skills.

You can’t improve in a vacuum. Talk out your plots with people. Let people edit your shit. Too many times people think they have to do it alone, and that’s how you stagnate as a writer.

Take writing advice from people you want to write like. Anon comments, random comments -- none of them matter, because you have no idea whether what these people want align with how you want to write. Listen to them, sure, decide if there’s something in it you can use, but -- this person could think Twilight was a good romance. Or Tolkein was good at character development. You don’t need their opinion.

21. Do you plot out your stories, or do you just figure it out as you go?

I always know where I’m going. Maybe not SOLIDLY, but I don’t start a fic where all I know is the beginning

22. Have you ever gotten a bad comment on a story? If so, what did you do?

HAHAH YEP. I deleted it. It’s one thing to have constructive criticism (whether it’s helpful or not), but this was basically “don’t think this is mindless hate...*two comments worth of mindless hate*”

23. Is there a certain type of scene that you have a hard time writing? (action, smut, etc..)

Anything with a lot of limbs

24. What story(s) are you working on now?

SO MANY. I have a Seven Suitor’s B-side, a Suzuri WFB fic, a stupidly huge mitsukiki mermaid AU, the next chapter of Merry & Bright, the next chapter of Sensitive Negotiations, and sometimes I even get to pick away at the second part of the Stripper!Shirayuki fic

25. Do you plan your next project(s) before you finish your current ongoing story(s)?

Yep. I like knowing where my focus will be (though I tend to work on multiple things at once)

26. Do you have a daily writing goal set for yourself?

I try to have fic-related goals, like -- I’ll finish this scene, i’ll get to this part -- and I try to have a few fics i get through in a day (between 2-4, usually). But I also only dedicate two 20-minute sprints to each fic per day (except on saturdays, which are for plowing through fics close to being finished)

27. Do you think you’ve improved as a writer since you first started?

DEFINITELY

28. What is your favorite story(s) that you’ve written?

Only looking at finished fics, probably either A Lion to Terrify the Wolves or Creatures of a Brief Season

29. What is your least favorite story(s) that you’ve written?

I don’t think there’s any specific fic i don’t like? Maybe something I wrote as a teeny tiny, that never saw the light of day.

30. Where do you see yourself (as a writer) in 5 years?

Hopefully published? We’ll see. Have to have time to work on original things, first.

31. What is the easiest thing about writing?

Dialogue

32. What is the hardest thing about writing?

Keeping track of all the details over a long period of time *deep sigh*

33. Why do you write?

I enjoy telling stories! I can’t imagine not doing it

for tagging.... @superhappybubbleslove, @infinitelystrangemachinex, @thelionshoarde, @claudeng80 @codango

#writing meme #i feel like i have to reiterate #my writing process is extremely targeted to overcoming my specific mental quirks #like i get bored working on the same thing all day every day #so i have to skip around #and i know my optimal working time is 20 minutes #so i work in 20 minute spurts with 10 minute breaks #it's taken me YEARS to get to this point #so if you're frustrated with not being able to write a lot #first work on doing every day #same time #and then start playing with different styles of working. pomodoros worked for me #but my husband can't stand them #you'll get there #just keep trying #and keep experimenting

[reivenesque]

Fic: Safewords (Shadowhunters/Malec)

Title: Safewords. Word Count: 3808 Words. Summary: There are abs on his screen, sweaty glistening, toned abs. So toned it’s almost an 8-pack instead of a 6-pack. Slick with sweat and almost shimmering under the vintage lighting of Magnus’ loft, staring back up at him like it’s a piece of juicy meat and he’s the hungriest predator in the vicinity.

Tags: Humor/Romance. Magnus/Alec. Alec and Lydia Brotp. Lightwood Family Feels. .

[ao3]

After twenty plus years of suffering through hours of repetitive, boring official meetings filled with monotone ramblings and a lot of dead air, Alec has perfected both the art of detached interest and incognito texting. Although through the years the incognito part of the texting has become more and more difficult to successfully pull off. He isn’t like Izzy and Max whose fingers fly through the touch screen keypads like people with far too much experience for their years, or Jace whose fingers fly through the keypads just the same but with far less accuracy and far less concern over the spelling or grammar. Alec thinks he’s become far too fluent in Jace-text-speak than is normal. Unlike his siblings though, when he doesn’t have a bow in his grasp the fingers of his hands spontaneously turn into all-thumbs. He misses the days when phones had actual buttons.

His first phone was a Nokia 3315 and he’s convinced it’s secretly a magical artefact not unlike his own bow. He was once stupidly caught cornered by a couple of demons in an alleyway by himself, his weapons knocked clean out of reach and the only thing he had on his person was the phone. It was a spur of the moment decision to throw it at the demon closest to him and somehow that distracted them long enough for Alec to make an all or nothing leap for his bow. Unfortunately the phone did not come out of that battle unscathed. It was ruined, but even before it expired it managed to accept one last call from Jace asking Alec where he was.

Alec still keeps the remnants of that phone in a special commemorative box in a drawer at his desk.

What was his mom saying again? He decides to do a mental check-in.

“—once again I am left sorely disappointed at the incompetence—”

Well nothing new to report there.

At least his mom has stopped referring to Magnus as the abomination. She’s gone past the actively trying to talk him out of it stage into the silently seething stage which is truthfully a breath of fresh air. Nowadays she actively tries to not talk about him or acknowledge that he exists at all unless it’s inevitable that their paths cross or she absolutely has to refer to him for one reason or another, only then does she actually call Magnus ‘him’with accompanying spittle containing at least 17 percent venom.

He really thinks that Magnus is starting to grow on her.

“Do you have anything to add, Alec?”

Yes. The Clave is stupid. Their rules are stupid. This whole meeting is stupid. What was it about again? He can’t even remember. He wishes he was at home tucked into bed with Magnus as the little spoon under a heap of blankets on Magnus’ golden Egyptian cotton sheets because it really was made for the Pharaohs.

“No, mother. You’re absolutely right.”

He thinks it’s the right answer because she doesn’t glare at him and subsequently moves on to another subject. Anything that doesn’t dispute her indubitable rightness is never the wrong thing to say.

He feels the vibration of an incoming text from the left side pocket of his jeans and with the skills befitting a synchronized swimmer and the grace of above water goose, he manages to slide the cell phone out of his all of a sudden far too tight pants while keeping his visible self absolutely aloof and at-attention. He’s so slick even Izzy and Jace who are sitting on either side of his position at the foot of the table, directly in his mother’s line of sight don’t notice a thing. Lydia and his father are in mirror positions at the opposite end of the table. Alec’s pretty sure the only one who actually wants to be at this meeting is his mother. His dad looks like he’s pining for the company of his pillow. Jace is outright yawning and Izzy looks impeccably dishevelled as only Izzy can look. Even Lydia’s looking around at all the disgruntled faces in the room like she’s having the exact same train of thought as Alec. When their eyes meet from across the length of the table, the silent acknowledgement that this meeting is utter bullshit goes absolutely without saying.    

How’s your meeting, my dear? The text is surprisingly unsurprising from Magnus. Surprising considering that it’s barely 8 A.M. and Magnus doesn’t usually leave the company of his bed until at least 9.30, unless Alec stays in late, then sometimes they don’t leave the bed at all. Unsurprising since it is Magnus and Alec had dragged away the blanket before he left because if he couldn’t be curled up nice and comfily in bed then Magnus wasn’t allowed to either.

Kill me now. Or at least magic some coffee into my stomach and patience into my soul. It takes him far too long to type out that message after having to backspace multiple times because his thumb keeps on hitting the S instead of the A and he M instead of the N. He hates touch screen keypads so much.

That enjoyable huh? Alec can almost see the feline grin on Magnus’ face and he kind of wants to punch that expression right off his being, and then kiss him right on his stupid face. What was his mother saying again?

“—ashamed!”

I regret all tge choices I’ve made in life tgat has leaf me up to tgis point.He doesn’t even care about spelling anymore. Spelling doesn’t even matter when he’s likely to get nettled to death by his mother’s silent disapproval and vocalised shame.

You wound me Alexander. Followed by a series of sad and teary eyed emojis.

You know what I mean. He’s lying, he still cares about grammar and spelling, he isn’t an uneducated mundane.

No, I don’t think I do.Followed by a couple of streaming tears emoji.

I LOVE YOU STUPID.

Yes, I think I may have a vague idea now.Magnus continues his abuse of emojis.

“Am I boring you, Alec?”

Yes.

“No, mother, I’m seriously reflecting on my past actions.”

“Good.”

He feels Izzy’s grin before he turns to look at her, just in time to catch her mouthing, ‘ass kisser’ at him.

He whispers back when his mother has her back turned to them. “Not the ass I want to be kissing.”

“By the angel!” Jace exclaims from his left side, his tone one of horror and attracting all the attention to him.

“Yes, Jace? Is something wrong?” Maryse asks concerned. Looking intently at Jace and not noticing both Alec and Izzy almost sputtering trying to contain their laugh.

“Wha—N—No, Maryse. What I mean is…uh, by the Angel, only now…uh, I…only now I realise what trouble Clary and I have caused you and Alec and the Clave and we’re…uh, really sorry.”

His explanation is so unconvincing even Maryse looks sceptical at her Golden Boy Jace.

Need safe-word for when I need you to come rescue me from boring meetings.

How about ‘canoodle’?Alec tries hard not to physically roll his eyes.

How about ‘medium rare’?

…you’re never going to let me live that down are you?

Depends.

On what? It’s the first time Alec’s got Magnus in the text version of being speechless.

The level of canoodling.

How about this?Magnus texts back and Alec has to wait a few seconds until whatever it is Magnus is sending him comes though.

He looks away from the phone for a split second while waiting for the text to come in, determining that his mother has moved on from Jace’s half-ass explanation with barely a suspicious glint. Izzy keeps on glancing at him with a teasing look that he does his best to ignore. Jace has not made eye contact with him or anyone at the table for the last 7 minutes which counts as almost a record. If Alec wasn’t Alec and Jace wasn’t Jace, he’d think that his parabatai was even blushing.

His phone vibrates in his hand, signalling that whatever Magnus has deign to send him has finally come in. It’s a picture file that he opens without a second thought.

He lets out a sound that’s somewhere between a strangled choking sound and someone stepping on a cat; both the person and the cat, attracting all the attention to him. He tries to cough to cover up his shame but it’s too late.

“Yes, Alec. What is it now?”

He tries not to choke on the oxygen he’s inhaling. “N-Nothing, mother. I just swallowed a fly.”

“There are no flies in the institute,” Izzy says unhelpfully. Alec glares at her.

“Only ones named Simon,” adds Jace, equally unhelpfully. Alec wonders if it’s too late to put in a request for a new sister and a new parabatai.

Lydia shoots him a questioning look and he tries to telepathically beg her for help. “I have been getting complaints about bug infestations in the Institute. I think it has something to do with the crypt in the basement.”

Alec wants to buy Lydia shots, and lots of it. Maybe even a mundane house in the suburbs.

His mother lets out an ever suffering sigh but decides not to continue her line of questioning.

And the meeting once again resumes. At this point Alec doesn’t know head nor tails or what’s going on or what his mother is even talking about and he isn’t even pretending to. He dares a glance at the picture again.

There are abs on his screen, sweaty glistening, toned abs. So toned it’s almost an 8-pack instead of a 6-pack. Slick with sweat and almost shimmering under the vintage lighting of Magnus’ loft, staring back up at him like it’s a piece of juicy meat and he’s the hungriest predator in the vicinity. Medium rare indeed.

I didn’t mean actually kill me. I’ve grown pretty fond of being alive thanks so much.

Are you impressed, my dear?Alec can almost hear the smugness in his tone.

No. Not even a little bit. Not even at all. What the hell are you doing anyway? Please tell me you’re not doing one of those fake candid selfies of yourself.

I love you Alexander and I love everything you love, but I truly am going to throw out 10 Things I Hate About You if you don’t stop quoting it every other conversation. And to answer your questions. 1. I’m working out, if you must know. You think his dazzling physique maintains itself my love? And 2. No I am not doing one of those fake candid selfies, don’t worry your pretty little head off. A selfie is just a selfie.

At this point Alec has given up trying to look even remotely interested in what his mother is saying.

Like the way that hell is just a sauna?

Magnus texts back some devil horn emojis but with no text. After a few seconds, another text with an attached picture comes in. Alec is almost too afraid to look.

But not afraid enough.

His heart starts palpitating. His palms become clammy. He forgets how to swallow or breathe. His boyfriend truly is the devil.

There are biceps on his screen. Rippled, muscular biceps gleaming with still dripping sweat. Slightly veiny yet toned and taut and shining like a sexy beacon calling Alec towards the deadly rocks and his almost certain doom.

All of a sudden he doesn’t feel too well. His head feels light and his heart is thundering in his chest.

“Alec, are you okay?” He hears Izzy ask through the muddled haze that used to be his somewhat competent mind and constitution. He thinks this must be what the sailors in Greek mythology felt like when they heard the songs of the Siren.

Unwanted attention turns to him once again.

“Alec?” he hears his mother and the concern in her voice is unnerving.

“Sorry. I-I just…I just felt a little light headed for a minute,” he says, trying to cover up the four shades of pink his face has probably adopted. Both Jace and Izzy look at him in concern. But Lydia has a knowing look on his face that he neither likes nor appreciates. Alec thinks at some point his father actually fell asleep with his eyes open because he isn’t reacting to anything at all. He’s just sitting there silent, arm crossed over his chest and eyes wide open. Like, eerily wide.

“I think this would be the best place to end this absolutely enlightening and engaging meeting, don’t you, Maryse?” The emphasis on the two words make it apparent that Lydia is neither enlightened nor engaged. “Everyone’s been running ragged these past couple of days trying to deal with the influx of demon activity. I think they deserve the day off. Unless there’s some pressing matter at hand, of course.”

Maryse glowers at Lydia, but doesn’t refute her words. “Of course.”

“Well that’s that then,” Lydia says, getting to her feet. Alec doesn’t like the look she keeps sending his way because it’s the same look Izzy has on when she thinks she’s discovered some huge secret of his. He especially hates it now because Izzy is looking at him with the same exact expression and the same lopsided grin. He doesn’t appreciate the look Izzy and Lydia are exchanging with each other either. He wishes there was a way to go back to the time when everyone hated and didn’t trust Lydia at all. But then again, she did just give him the day off.

He almost leaps to his feet, startling Jace out of his happy place where he isn’t envisioning his beloved parabatai kissing anyone’s ass on loop and all is right in the world. Jace still can’t look him in the eye without seeing Magnus’s ass in the very next frame. He wants Clary to hug him and pat him on the head and kiss the nightmares away.

Alec is startled when Jace suddenly jumps up and even faster than regular Nephilim speed, disappears out the door and down the corridor like he has a hoard of Drevak demons on his ass.

No one knows how to react.

“Well. I think I’m going to go lie down,” Alec says after a while and begins his retreat. If he’s fast enough, he can get out of there before Lydia or Izzy can make—

“Try not to overexert yourself while doing all that laying down,” Izzy says.

“Being able to lay down in bed is such a magical activity,” Lydia says.

Alec feels betrayed by them both.

“Oh by the angel!” Maryse exclaims, her face in her hand. She points one manicured finger out the door and turns to her son.  “Alec, go do what you need to do. I don’t want to know about it, I don’t want to hear the insinuation of it. Next time we have a meeting we’re leaving the phones at the door. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Alec can’t get out of there fast enough. He whips out his phone and frantically types out, MEDIUM RARE MEDIUM RARE MEDIURM RAR MEDIUM RARW MWDIUM TARW CANOODLING CACCNOOLDING MEDIUMRAARW.

He slams open the door of his room just in time to see a purple portal open up at the far end wall beside his closet. He doesn’t speed up his gait at all. Nope, not at all.

He exits on the other side to the welcoming atmosphere of Magnus’ eclectic loft and the sight of Magnus in an absolutely offensive sleeveless grey hoodie. And he’s actually doing reps with a dumbbell on a bench that he’d probably magicked out from nowhere in particular. Actually it looks suspiciously like the workout bench in Jace’s room. How dare he? He upped the ante of the candid selfie of himself. This is an accidentally on purpose intentional work-out walk-in. How very Magnus. And how dare he?

“Alexander,” Magnus says, looking up with a wide smile as if he’s at all surprised to see Alec standing there looking all flushed and absolutely scandalised. This just won’t do.

Alec struts towards Magnus with a purpose in his gait and mission in his heart. At this point Magnus has dropped this entire farce of a workout and put down the dumbbell.

Sweat is trickling down the center of his glistening heaving chest, between his tanned, perfectly sculpted pecs peeking out over the precariously zipped up hoodie. Alec hates that hoodie. Since when did Magnus actually own hoodies? They seem far too innocuous and plain for his taste. But maybe that was his plan all along. Either way, Alec hates that hoodie and he needs it to come off, right now.

He grabs his shocked boyfriend by the undone lapels and in one swift move, rips it open. This time it’s Magnus’ turn to look absolutely flustered in shock and unconcealed glee. He can’t even concentrate enough to keep up his glamour. His cats’ eyes watch Alec like a predator, but in that moment no one can really tell which one of them is the predator and which one is the prey.

One obstacle out of the way for Alec when he finally gets the offending article of clothing off his boyfriend’s exquisite person and lets it fall to the floor in a heap. He feels Magnus’ hand fiddling with the buttons of his own shirt before he reaches into his pants and pulls out his stele, dropping it to the floor without care.

Magnus has a look on his face that’s half experienced 400 year old warlock and half 7 year old child in a toy store that’s made entirely out of candy. Alec likes this side of him. He likes it even more when he backs Magnus up against couch, the back of his knees hitting the footrest and stopping them both in their tracks. Alec spares a glance down Magnus’ now shirtless torso and the way his sweaty shoulders and chest are almost luminous under the warm light and the glowing crescent moon hanging in the night sky. The taut, lean muscles of his biceps and his well-defined abs usually hidden under layers of expensive fabric and precious jewels.

For the first time since they met, Alec actually realises that this is his. Magnus is all his. He doesn’t have time to contemplate the meaning of it all before he feels himself subconsciously grasping Magnus by the side of his face and plating a kiss on his lustrous, glitter gloss covered lips. The kiss lasts a good minute before Alec pulls back and shoves Magnus back onto couch when he lands an unceremonious, scandalised yet tantalised heap. His sparkling cat eyes never once looking away or even blinking. He hasn’t said anything the whole time but his gaze speaks volumes in surround sound.

Alec’s not exactly sure what he’s doing or where he’s going with this, it almost like his body is moving of its own accord regardless of how ridiculous his brain is telling him he probably looks right now. All of a sudden he feels all of his 20 plus years of virginity greeting him like that one annoying jokester in class everyone only pretends to like but then rolls their eyes at when he’s done walking away.

What is he doing?

Taking off his shirt evidently, a completely vulgar and unsanctioned act and he’s pretty sure he didn’t verbally permit his body to do such a thing. But he’s unbuttoning the last few buttons on his unsurprisingly monotonous long sleeve black shirt and Magnus is looking at him like the sexiest awkward virgin in all the land. Magnus’ gaze is more inspiring than Shia Labeouf entire 30 minute motivational spiel. Alec only knows about that because Jace watches the video on repeat to psych himself up before a mission. But why is he thinking about Shia Labeouf and Jace when Magnus is shirtless and dishevelled and sprawled out right there?

He whips his shirt off his back and to the side, this time watching as Magnus’ glittering eyes rake hungrily across his own body.

Alec takes a deep breath, all while his brain is still yelling at him about what a bad idea this is. Monumentally bad. Walk of shame back to the institute bad. Even worse than when he and Magnus only had drinks because Izzy and Lydia will know. His mother knows. Oh god, Alec cannot get over what a bad idea this is and starts contemplating how he managed to get himself into such an awkward situation. He was having a really good day too. And he still owes Lydia some shots and a nice beige house in the heart of suburbia.

Magnus on the other hand doesn’t seem to share Alec’s insecurity and embarrassment as he reaches over before Alec can react and grabs onto the buckle of Alec’s belt, dragging him back onto the couch where they land a sandwiched heap.

“Nice of you to join me, my love. It was getting very lonely and very cold on his sofa by myself.”

Alec can’t seem to find the words, or even remember how to form actual words. “Medium rare,” he says instead.

Magnus smiles, one of those small but genuine ones where his eyes sparkle like they’re reflecting the stars in the solar system all at once. “Have I ever told you that you’re the most adorable person I’ve ever met in my 400 years of life?”

Alec would have been even more touched by Magnus’ words if he wasn’t feeling so awkwardly long on the couch, draped over Magnus in a rather uncomfortable position, propping himself up by the elbows on either side of Magnus’ head and his legs hanging uselessly over the edge. “I’m sure you say that to all the boys.”

“No, I don’t,” Magnus replies simply, his expression still easy going and playful but the glint on his eyes hardened and serious. “I love only you, Alexander Lightwood.”

Alec answers Magnus’ heartfelt confession with his lips. He feels Magnus’s hands fiddling with the buckle of his belt, but this time it’s Magnus who suddenly pulls away. He locks eyes with Alec, his face and entire body language serious yet understanding and comforting. “Only if you really want to,” he says, looking deep into Alec’s eyes.

And for the first time today Alec’s mind is clear and unwavering and he thinks, yes, he does. “I really do, Magnus. Only with you.”

Magnus smiles and it’s the most gorgeous sight Alec has had the pleasure to behold.

In the meeting room back at the Institute, Robert Lightwood with his eyes still open, his arms still crossed and his posture still rigid, sleeps on without a care.

#shadowhunters #malec #shadowhunters fics #alec lightwood #magnus bane #fic: safewords #i just realized i never posted this fic on my blog #it was on a writing challenge #reiven fics #anyway #obligatory #shameless self promotion #reiven shadowhunters fics

[inevera13]

Fate’s Predicament - Chapter 1 (NEW MLB FANFIC)

THIS IS MY FIRST FIC EVER AND I’M ACTUALLY VERY DETERMINED AND EXCITED, I DON’T KNOW HOW MUCH I’LL BE ABLE TO UPDATE BUT I’M POSTING THE FIRST CHAPTER CUZ I JUST WANNA KNOW IF IT’LL HAVE ANY RESPONSE AT ALL??? IT’S A LITTLE SHORT AND SO FAR I’VE ONLY WRITTEN THREE CHAPTERS BUT I’M !!!, ANYWAY HOPE YOU ENJOY READING IT, I’M ACTUALLY PRETTY PROUD! (:

(It’s not posted yet, but here’s my AO3)

✍ ✍ ✍

Marinette picked a loose thread on her pink sweater and let it fall on her denim skirt before brushing it off. She played with the little silver hoop earrings Alya had gotten her last Christmas while waiting for said girl.

It had been a long while since the power granting, black miraculous stones had left her ears; yet, here she found herself, reminiscing. She thought of Chat Noir almost every day, even if it got less frequent and less painful over the years. It didn't consume or overwhelm her with a painful variety of feelings anymore.

Today, though, would be their 10th anniversary and, in days like these, Marinette needed all the distractions she could get. 

"Hey girl!" Alya greeted upon arrival. 

"Hey! Finally!" The designer said good naturedly, eyeing her friend's flowy purple dress, black biker jacket and matching booties in approval.

"Listen, i have something to show you..." Alya said, cryptically. 

"Uh, okay..." She answered slowly, narrowing her eyes.

They ordered coffees and Alya looked at Marinette, increasingly excited.  

"Look!" The happy girl shoved her phone on her friend's face. 

"Alya, you're kind of blinding me right now. Um, that's a very nice phone...?"   

"Girl. Please." Alya deadpanned "Look at all these e-mails!" 

"Is that good?" 

"Yes! Because-" 

Their coffees arrived, the girls thanked and payed the waitress and, when she left, Alya quickly stirred the hot beverage a bit before blowing on it and gulping it down in one go, like a shot. She always did this, whilst Marinette always waited for it to cool down while calmly stirring it. 

"Because...?" The now curious girl asked, black eyebrows rising. 

"Because! These are all about a Chat Noir and Ladybug comeback!" 

"...what?!" 

"Yup." 

"Why?! Did some Miraculous get stolen again? That's highly unlikely, and i think i would've heard about that." 

"Nope. But the crime rate has been getting stupidly high in Paris, and the people are demanding a comeback." 

"That's ridiculous!" Marinette rasped, incredulously. "The police can surely handle that. It's been six years since me and Chat left the scene... Why would they need heroes now? How did this idea even start?" The girl painfully rolled her eyes, "Besides, you know master Fu won't hand out Miraculous unless strictly necessary. We hopefully still have a lot of time until the next gen." 

"Marinette." Alya whisper-shouted "The people have spoken! They want their heroes back. And, believe me, this is starting to blow up. I'm nothing but the administrator of a no longer active blog and look! I got hundreds of e-mails. The people want this, and they, we, won't stop until we get it." 

Marinette sighed audibly. "Alya, don't be ridiculous. Master Fu won't be won over by a mass tantrum that isn't even directly associated with him or affects him in any way. He's a wise, patient man." 

Alya smirked "We'll see." ---#####--- "I can't believe this is actually happening." Marinette whispered, eyes shut tightly. 

"I told you..." Alya retorted in a small, dazed voice.

Both girls were currently looking down at a pair of very familiar polka dotted earrings, carefully stashed inside a strong wooden box that had magically appeared on Marinette's bag, for the second time in her life.

Marinette looked tentatively at Alya. "Do you think - you know - Chat got his too?" She fixed her gaze on the table in front of her. "Wherever he is. Or if i'll have a new, um, partner..."

"I don't know, honey...we can't know, we can only hope."

"I don't wanna do that. I don't want to hope. If i'm being honest, I don't even know if i actually want to see him again." She looked back at her friend. "I'm nervous, Alya. I'm gonna see Tikki again...I can't believe this. Maybe it's just- just a cruel joke. We didn't even see Master Fu at all today and...i don't know. This can't be."

"I get that you're nervous...it's a part of your life that took a lot for you to leave behind, and now it's coming back, out of thin air. But think of this as an opportunity, girl. To accept things better, or have closure..." Alya sighed "And...you said it yourself that you believe in fate. Maybe have a little more fate in fate, you know?" She paused. "Also...maybe master Fu sent someone, like that boy you helped today, to test you again, no?"

Marinette looked pensively at her journalist friend. "Maybe..."

All those years ago, the day after she had spilled her guts to Alya about everything, about a month after Hawkmoth's defeat and Chat Noir's disappearance, Marinette had gone to Master Fu's. 

Eyes still red and puffy, she had said one last teary goodbye to the wooden box that contained the earrings, and the kwami, that had changed her life and had enabled her to do so much for her city. That day, her and master Fu had talked a lot about many things, some questions had been answered, including how the wielders were chosen.

At first, it had sounded a little silly to Marinette, but, with time, she understood that maybe it had been a stroke of pure fate. She definitely didn't feel like the jewels had been left in the wrong hands, so perhaps fate should be a little more trusted.

Ever since that day, she went to visit the old man at least once a month. Usually more, unless she got lost in a spiral of work where she forgot she was still a human with basic needs. Thankfully, she had people to remind her of such fact, and get her out of said spiral.

She had been at master Fu's about a week ago, and none of them had even mentioned anything miraculous related. Marinette had happily gushed about having finished a commission she was proud of, and the man himself seemed proud of her too, and happy. Everything just seemed normal. 

But now, here she was, holding her past and her future in her hands.  Despite missing being Ladybug, Marinette's life hadn't stopped at all. She was happy, had many good friends, an amazing family and a well paying job she loved, even if it was a bit of a risky career path.

The first year after both Tikki and Chat had left her life had been rough, but she had had Alya and master Fu to count on and talk to through it all. The girl had had a few brief relationships, but didn't really feel the need to have a romantic partner in her life. And, truth be told, since both Adrien and Chat had left, she hadn't truly liked anyone romantically, despite the casual flings and dates.

After Ladybug and Chat Noir had unmasked Gabriel Agreste, Adrien had moved to Canada to finish his studies. He hadn't said a word to anyone apart from leaving a carefully typed letter for Nino, Alya and Marinette. He'd deleted all his social media, changed his number, and went off the radar for years.  Even if she hadn't been hung up on him anymore when he left - seemingly forever - it had been disheartening, and she had never felt as much hate for Hawkmoth as when she sat next to Alya on her and Nino's dark orange couch and listened to their friend read the cold sounding letter, tears silently streaming down his face. 

Adrien and her had become very close friends over the years, and she had been so worried. He was the first thing that went through her mind when she saw the villain that had been terrorizing Paris for years turn into Gabriel right in front of her eyes. She had almost wanted to cover it up, just so Adrien wouldn't have to suffer. But she knew she couldn't, and Chat was already on him.  Recent tabloids had talked about him possibly having come back to France a few weeks ago, but there were no clear pictures or official news yet. Some magazines venomously suggested he had come back for his father, who would probably be released sometime next year, which wasn't so far away.

"Should i...put them on?" Marinette asked tentatively.

"If you think you're ready..."

The girl inhaled and exhaled sharply before taking the earrings out of the box and putting them on.

✍ ✍ ✍

Chapter 2! 

Thanks for reading! :D Follow the tag if you’d like!!

#Fate's Predicament #Miraculous #fanfic #mlb #marinette cheng #adrien agreste #chat noir #ladybug #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #adrinette #marichat #ladrien #ladynoir #zagtoon #idk what else to tag #sigh #read this plz thnx

[footyplusau]

AFL competition framework is better than ever. So can we stop the fiddling for five minutes?

If your definition of a great competition is every team having at least some sort of chance of beating any other team on a given day, then AFL football has never been in as good a shape as right now.

Take a look at the ladder. Two of the bottom three spots are currently filled by two of the three most successful sides of the past decade. The other has played finals the past three years and twice been within one win of a grand final berth.

Play Video Don’t Play

Cats slay Saints in final quarter

Play Video Don’t Play

Previous slide Next slide

FootyFix: Can the Tiges keep it up?

FootyFix: Can the Tiges keep it up?

Rohan Connolly previews all the footy action ahead of round 5 in the AFL.

Cats slay Saints in final quarter

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Cats slay Saints in final quarter

Cats slay Saints in final quarter

Geelong remain undefeated after claiming a 126-88 win over a spirited St Kilda outfit at Etihad Stadium.

Tuohy tries a different tactic

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Tuohy tries a different tactic

Tuohy tries a different tactic

Zac Tuohy tried something just a bit different as Tim Membreylined up a set shot.

AFL hit with another racist incident

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AFL hit with another racist incident

AFL hit with another racist incident

Footage shows a man launching a vile tirade at Saturday’s Brisbane Lions-Western Bulldogs game.

Heath Shaw’s insensitive sledge

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Heath Shaw’s insensitive sledge

Heath Shaw’s insensitive sledge

Giant Heath Shaw has come under fire and since apologised after calling Swan Tom Papley a ‘f***ing retard’.

Dockers stun Kangaroos at the death

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Dockers stun Kangaroos at the death

Dockers stun Kangaroos at the death

Fremantle have claimed their third consecutive win, defeating North Melbourne 67-62 in Perth in a thriller that went down to the wire.

Outstanding Giants pour more misery on Swans

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Outstanding Giants pour more misery on …

Outstanding Giants pour more misery on Swans

Buddy Franklin’s 800th career goal was little consolation for the Swans as GWS condemned their cross-town rivals to a fifth straight loss.

Dockers’ last minute win

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Dockers’ last minute win

Dockers’ last minute win

Having trailed since the first quarter the Dockers left it until the very last minute to make their push.

FootyFix: Can the Tiges keep it up?

Rohan Connolly previews all the footy action ahead of round 5 in the AFL.

Brisbane and Carlton, tipped almost universally this season to finish 17th and 18th, have at least won a game. And on Saturday, the Lions led the reigning premier by 38 points shortly before half-time, a Western Bulldogs outfit which came from seventh after the regular season to win a flag.

If that doesn’t signify evenness and unpredictability, what does? As for exciting games, we’re hardly short of them are we? So what’s with this incessant need to tinker, not just with laws of the game, but the very framework of an AFL competition that is working just fine?

The Bulldogs won the grand final from seventh place last year. Photo: AFL Media/Getty Images

We’ve become used to the annual night grand final kite-flying exercise. Last year there was a concerted campaign to offer Brisbane and potentially other clubs more assistance because they hadn’t been in the finals for – shock, horror – a few seasons.

And now we’re getting more impromptu “suck it and see” polling with the concept of a 17-5 fixture. Well, I’m sick to death of it. And I’m not the only one.

The 17-5 fixture concept is one of AFL chief executive Gillon McLachlan’s favourite kites. And he’s got plenty of helpers (usually connected to TV networks) all too ready to take it out for a run seemingly every few weeks.

In the latest breathless dispatches, we’re told three groups of six teams would be ruled off after every team had played each other once, the top two “conferences” fighting out a top eight berth, but even more stupidly, a bottom-six side potentially given a finals chance as well as points to use in the next national draft.

Lions players look dejected after losing the round five AFL match against the Western Bulldogs on Saturday. Photo: Getty Images

The 17-5 model is necessary, apparently, because there’s not enough incentive for teams stuck in the bottom six after 17 rounds. Well, here’s one. Try winning more of your first 17 games. If you don’t, why on earth should you deserve a chance for a “wildcard” finals spot or whatever US sport-inspired jargon seems sexy right now?

Apparently, the fact that last year none of Carlton, Brisbane, Richmond, Fremantle or Gold Coast won more than one of their last five games highlights the need for a “new solution”. In fact, perhaps all it highlighted was that they just weren’t very good teams.

We play 198 home and away games a season now. News flash. Not all of them are going to be gripping, nor have finals spots riding on them. And even with close to 200 games to churn through, I’ll wager there’s a higher percentage that indeed do have something riding on them than the 132 we played in a 12-team competition until 30 years ago.

A solution to tanking? It’s talk that had some credence when teams stood to earn an extra priority draft pick as well as one for finishing at the bottom of the ladder. But the AFL dispensed with institutionalised priority picks five years ago.

Now that the only gap between clubs’ draft hands is determined by ladder positions, is the difference between draft selection No.1 as opposed to Nos. 2-3-4-5-6 on a 40-man playing list really enough to have AFL clubs even considering deliberately dropping games? Give me a break.

As for adding excitement? So the top six spend the last five rounds playing each other. Given they’re the best-performed teams to date, it’s more than likely they lock horns at least once again, if not more, during the finals proper. Is that more exciting? Or more a case of familiarity breeding if not contempt, boredom.

And speaking of incentives, if we adopted the 17-5 model, would clubs, knowing they could still potentially play finals even were they 13th on the ladder with just five games left, still hit the regular season as hard?

What would be the point if you only had to be somewhere vaguely beyond the bottom five to still have a chance in September? You could spell some players for half a season and have them hit a physical peak for two months only.

We could effectively call the first 17 rounds pre-season, scrap the home and away tag and have a nine-week finals series. See how ridiculous this gets?

Perhaps I’m getting old and cranky. But the goldfish memories, driving of agendas and constant refusal to consider history as context infecting football more and more drives me batty. The 17-5 fixture and the rationale for its necessity are just another example.

But I’m also not too old and wedded to the past to realise that right now, we have a framework of an AFL competition that is the best it’s ever been. The model isn’t broken. It doesn’t need fixing. How about we leave it the bloody hell alone for at least five minutes?

AND WHILE I’M AT IT

Up for grabs: North were unlucky to lose out in another close contest. Photo: Paul Kane

So how are North Melbourne going? Depends who you ask. My suggestion on Twitter on Saturday evening that the Roos had been stiff this season certainly drew plenty of scorn.

There was the usual “chokers” label regularly applied indiscriminately to any team which loses by a kick after leading. And in North’s case, the increasingly regular “Brad Scott must go” lines.

I wonder, though, how many people throwing those tags around expected much more from the Roos this season than they’re getting? Not many, I would have thought. And if those that did were unrealistic to expect more, I reckon they’re also being a bit harsh now.

This is a team that has calculatedly taken the rebuilding route, with the departures of five veterans at the end of last year shedding close to 1600 games worth of collective experience to do so. This year was never going to be smooth sailing, most people consigning the Roos to the bottom four, where with a 0-5 scoreline now, they’re every chance to wind up.

The question now is whether the focus, after three losses by under a kick, should be on the five-goal leads North have given up each time, or the effort in getting to those winning positions. I think it’s the latter.

Fremantle and North Melbourne line up for ANZAC ceremonies at Domain Stadium. Photo: Daniel Carson/AFL Media

Two of the defeats have been to a reigning premier and a preliminary finalist of last season, both in pretty decent form again. The other, on Saturday, was against a clearly revitalised Fremantle in Perth, the most difficult of road trips, where North have won just twice in their last dozen appearances.

It’s true the Roos under Scott have issues in the tight finish. In his eighth season as coach, North have lost 21 games decided by single figures, and won only nine. Then again, how many expected them to be that close to those three teams this season anyway?

The effort can’t be questioned. And the gains have been considerable, the Roos already using 29 players and handing six their AFL debuts, all of whom have had some sort of impact when given a chance.

Senior recruits Nathan Hrovat and Marley Williams have added plenty, Trent Dumont has improved out of sight, Mason Wood is now back in the mix, and while senior types Jarrad Waite and Ben Jacobs are still several weeks away, there’s more good kids ready to have a crack in Ryan Clarke, Sam Durdin and Corey Wagner.

If there’s one thing Scott should look at harder now, it’s playing even more of their like and having the courage to drop some under-performing veterans. But this is a team playing much, much better than a 0-5 win-loss record would indicate. And while it’s easy to parrot lines like you’re only as good as the scoreboard, in North’s case right now, that is patently untrue.

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