#admist the chaos

[straylightdream]

hopelessly devote

featuring: werewolf han jisung x f. reader

synopsis: his life changed unexpectedly and he’s attempting to cope with the inner turmoil he faces as he accepts the beast living inside him.

genre: wolf au, college au, smut, angst, mutual pining, friends to lovers, roommates to lovers

warnings: angst, talks about being a werewolf, and explicit sexual content (smut warnings below the cut)

word count: 5.7k

𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐟𝐢𝐜𝐬.

an: I’m reworking and old story and starting a connecting series with skz as werewolves. Thank you @therhythmafterthesummer for helping me edit and figure out this story.

warnings: protected sex, fingering, soft dom jisung, mentions of marking and bruising, knotting

It’s a quiet night, but it’s one of those nights where you haven’t been able to fall asleep. You have too much on your mind to actually fall asleep. The sound of your roommate knocking on your bedroom door catches you attention, before it slowly opens.

“Can I come in?”

Rolling over so you’re looking at the door, “yeah.” Jisung stares at you with sad eyes. Patting the bed next to you he joins you

He seems tense as he lies next to you. There’s a worried look that’s painted across his face. Laying on your side you stare at him.

“Jisung what’s wrong?”

A heavy sigh passes his lips as he turns on his side to stare at you. “The full moon is in two days.”

You can’t help but feel sorry for him. This is only going to be his second full moon and from what he’s told you the first one was very painful. He was a complete mess the following day.

“Has Chan or Changbin mentioned if it will get easier?”

“Chan said as soon as I start changing freely without the full moon it will start to barely hurt,” he doesn’t sound confident at all as he speaks to you.

“Why don’t you try changing without the moon?” You reach out, taking his hand in yours.

“YN, I’m afraid of losing control each time I change,” another heavy sigh passes his lips as he gently squeezes your hand. You’ve been by his side from the moment he got bit. You took him out to the forest the first full moon he changed. You stood by his side as he screamed in pain changing for the first time. You stayed there until he begged you to drive away. His number one fear has always been hurting you.

“There’s so many things I’m not ready for. First I have to learn how to change on command. So that each time I change it doesn’t feel like I’m dying and then I need to figure out how I even get through my first rut.”

Your cheeks burn at the thought of Jisung having to go through a rut. When he first changed Chan and Changbin came over to let him know the ups and downs of his new life. Jisung was so overwhelmed by all the information he started rambling on about it and mentioned how bad his rut will be at first.

“Do you have an idea on what you’re gonna do about your rut?” You aren’t sure why you ask. Maybe it’s because Jisung is your best friend and roommate and you’re just worried about him, or maybe it’s because you have a crush on him and part of you can’t seem to push it away.

“I’m not sure. I might have Chan and Changbin lock me up. They said the first time will be by far the worst and that afterwards I’m just gonna be,” he pauses and looks at you with his cheeks flushed. “I’m just going to be pretty horny.” He swallows loudly and stares at you awkwardly, “Chan said I’m just gonna be on edge a lot.”

“Does anything help?” you’re playing with fire by asking this but you can’t seem to stop.

“Chan said I just should act on my urges. That relieving it makes everything better.” The tips of his ears are bright red.

“I guess having a girlfriend would help,” you let out an awkward laugh.

“Yeah probably,” he drags his thumb across your skin catching your attention.

“Did you want to sleep in here tonight” it’s not the first time you would share a bed with him. Jisung has always been a person who loves skinship and often loves cuddling with you.

“Yeah I don’t exactly want to be alone. If I go to my room I’m just going to lay there and overthink everything.”

He moves so he’s laying on his back staring at the ceiling. A heavy sigh passes his lips as he looks so torn up. Without thinking you move closer to him resting your head on his chest and putting your arm across his stomach holding yourself closer to him.

“You're not alone Jisung. You never have been,” you listen to his heart and snuggle up closer to him.

“I don’t know what I would do without you,” his hand gently runs up your side. “My greatest fear is doing something that would hurt you.” His voice is shaky as he speaks to you. “I need to learn to control this so I don’t have to worry about something snapping inside me.”

You look up at him to see his eyes are glassy, “Jisung I’ve never been afraid of you. Even that night in the forest, I wasn’t afraid of you. I was just worried about you being hurt.”

You hold him tighter wanting to let him know that he's safe with you. You love him so much, and it hurts to watch him suffer through everything he’s going through.

“What happens if I hurt you?”

“It’s not going to happen, so stop worrying about it,” you know that even when he gets frustrated with you there’s never been an ounce of malice towards you. Everything with the beast inside him heightens all his emotions at one point or another but he wouldn’t ever hurt you.

“If it makes you feel better this full moon I’ll stay far away,” you know he regretted letting you go to the forest with him the first time he changed.

“Yeah that’s probably for the best,” he sighs.

“Will you be alone?” Your stomach twists just thinking about the thought of him being alone out there suffering.

“No Chan will be there, and he said Minho will come along too.”

“Okay as long as you’re not alone.”

You lay there in his arms until you both fall asleep. Your dreams consist of your best friend who is holding you close. You dream of a lazy summer afternoon where you’re both laying on your bedroom floor as teenagers laughing. Things were easier back then. You crave the normalcy of your teenage years, but you wouldn’t give up how things are now. Even though Jisung is a wolf and you wish more than anything you could take his curse away from him, you would stand by his side until the end of the world.

The morning light shines through your curtains waking you slowly. You nuzzle closer into the chest of your best friend. A soft yawn passes your lips as you close your eyes.

“Good morning,” he says softly.

“Good morning,” you slowly pull away, stretching your body.

-

The day of the full moon Jisung is on edge. He paces around your apartment for most of the morning. In the afternoon he starts telling you about his plan for attempting to work on learning to change at will.

You want nothing more than to just hold him and tell him he’ll be okay, but you know you can’t do that.

Around sunset he grabs his backpack and starts to head out. He gives you one final goodbye and holds you tight for a long moment before pressing his lips to the top of your head.

“I’ll be back after sunrise. Please stay here, and please be safe,” he says softly.

“I’ll be okay Jisung, I need you to stay safe and not worry about me.”

As he walks out the door you lock it and press your back to the door. You take a deep breath trying to hold yourself together but you can’t help the sob that breaks as you start to worry about your best friend. You know the pain he’s going to suffer through tonight is going to be excruciating. You cry for too long before you force yourself to pull it together.

You try your hardest to keep yourself distracted as the sun fully sets and the full moon rises. Looking out the window that looks onto the city, there’s an aching in your chest as you worry about Jisung.

As night comes you lay in bed barely able to sleep. You get maybe two hours of sleep as you wait for Jisung to return home. The alarm clock on your nightstand reads six in the morning. You listen carefully hearing the front door open. Leaping out of bed, you run to the living area to find an exhausted Jisung walking in. He’s dressed in a pair of sweats and a shirt. His hair looks a mess and his eyes are red like he’s been crying. Without a second thought you throw your body into his and hold him tight.

“Are you okay?” you ask, holding on.

“Yeah I’m gonna be okay,” he says as tears slowly slide down his cheeks. “It was just as hard as last time.”

Pulling away from him you reach up and wipe his tears away. He looks completely defeated as he stands there in front of you. Your heart breaks at how sad he looks. “How do I keep doing this?”

“Chan says it gets easier,” you try to remain positive as you try to hold yourself together.

“When is it gonna get easier?” He drops his head as the tears continue to slide down his cheek.

“Unfortunately I don’t know, but trust what Chan and Changbin say,” you brush away his tears gently. “Maybe before the next moon you should try to change on your own?”

“Okay,” he sighs. “Can we please nap together? I just need to be held.”

“Of course.”

Laying in his bed he lays on his side with you pressed right behind him holding him tight.

-

Over the next three weeks Jisung is gone often. Whenever he’s not in school he’s with Chan, Changbin and Minho attempting to learn to change at will. They’re doing everything in their power to help Jisung cope with how his life is now.

The first few days he comes home he’s just as emotionally drained as he was the last full moon. About a week in he just seems dazed and tired. You haven’t had to hold him as he falls asleep.

He’s got a few days until his next full moon and he’s a ball of nervous energy.

Sitting on the couch next to you a heavy sigh passes his lips. You look over at him raising your eyebrow curious to what’s on his mind.

“Jisung?”

“My first rut is near,” he spats out, out of nowhere.

Your eyes go wide knowing that his first rut is going to be intense.

“Minho says that from when I got turned the timeline lines up that it’s going to happen shortly after this full moon.”

“Okay you can get through this. What’s the plan?” You assume Jisung and the small pack of boys have already made up a plan.

“I need to stay far away from you, so I won’t hurt you,” his voice is laced with worry as you stare at him.

“I’m not afraid of you hurting me,” you can’t understand why he’s so worried about hurting you.

“The boys said I’m going to have this hunger inside me that will make it where my brain will only want one thing. I can’t let anything happen to you.”

You know exactly what the one thing he’s going to need is. There’s this little part in your brain that wonders what it would be like to let him have his way with you. What it would be like to feed the beast.

“Okay. I’ll do whatever you want. Where are you going? I’m assuming you won’t be anywhere near me.”

“They said that even the scent of you could push me over the edge. I’m going to stay at Chan’s. He said most of the pack will be there to watch over me. Hyunjin just finished his first rut and he said it was intense.”

“What did Hyunjin do to get through it?” You probably shouldn’t ask but you want to know.

“Hyunjin has a girlfriend,” Jisung says with his eyes trained on you. “Hyunjin said it got to be too much and she had to help.”

“Are you going to have someone help you?” The thought of a random girl being with him intimately makes you feel sick to your stomach but you won’t ever admit that to him.

“No I can’t risk hurting anyone, and we both know I can’t just hook up with a random person.”

-

It’s the day of another full moon and Jisung is just as nervous as ever. The boys have taught him to change on command but he’s still scared. Every time he’s been out with the boys he’s come back slightly dazed and exhausted. He says it doesn’t hurt like it used to, that his body has adjusted to it. He says it still hurts but it doesn’t feel like every single bone in his body is breaking.

Sitting on his bed you watch as he packs his backpack for his night. A heavy sigh passes his lips as he stops and turns to face you. He pushes his fingers through his hair and drops his head.

“What’s wrong Jisung?”

“I feel like I had so many plans with my life. Between school, a career and wanting a relationship and this curse ruined everything.” He sounds completely frustrated by the cards he has been dealt.

“You can still finish school, and find the job you want. This isn’t something that is gonna stop someone from loving you,” reach for his hand and pull him down so he’s sitting on the bed next to you.

“How can someone love me when I’m a monster who could hurt them?” He can’t look at you as he speaks.

You wish you were more brave enough to tell him you were in love with him, helping him go through this has done nothing but make you love him even more.

“Does Hyunjin’s girlfriend love him?”

“Yeah they’ve been together a year or so.”

“Do any of the other boys have partners?” You reach over taking his hand in yours.

“Minho has a girl he refers to as his mate.” You can’t help but be stuck on the thought of them having mates. What does being a mate exactly entail?

“What does being a mate mean?”

“They haven’t told me all the details about it, but Minho mentioned that you feel an intense connection with someone. You also mark them,” his cheeks burn bright red, mentioning marking.

“What’s marking?” You can’t help but be curious.

“Um,” he’s clearly embarrassed now. “You bite the spot between their shoulder and their neck and it marks their partner as theirs. It tells other wolves to stay away.”

“Oh,” you can’t help the burning feeling that takes over your cheeks.

He stands up and looks out the window to see the sun is starting to go down. “I need to meet the boys in the forest.” He leans down and gently presses a kiss to your forehead gently. “Stay safe please. I’ll be back after sunrise.” Your conversation you just shared has left you with the feeling of your head swimming.

You follow him through your shared apartment and stop at the front door.

He stops at the door and gives you a sad smile, “Jisung, before you go I just want you to know that you can have a future with someone. That this curse doesn’t make you unloveable. Believe me someone will love and care for you.”

“I hope so because I want to love someone in return. I want to have a mate who isn’t afraid of the monster that’s in their bed.”

Stepping closer to him you rest your hand on cheek staring into his warm eyes, “you’ve never been a monster. There is absolutely nothing to be afraid of.”

-

Laying in bed at sunrise, you wait for Jisung to return home. The front door opens and you walk into the living room to find him standing there looking dazed. A heavy sigh passes his lips as he pushes his fingers through his messy hair.

He stands there staring at you with his warm eyes. He gives you a half smile and drops his backpack on the floor.

“How was it?” you ask, stepping towards him.

“It hurt, but not like it used to. I’m just really tired,” he says.

“Let’s go to bed,” you reach down, taking his hand in yours.

“I don’t deserve you,” he practically whispers.

“I’m always going to be here for you,” you pull him into your bed. Holding him close to you.

-

The last two days Jisung has been locked in his room. He’s even more easily frustrated than he normally is. Standing in the kitchen you listen carefully as Jisung’s bedroom door is open. He walks into the kitchen carrying a backpack.

“YN,” he sighs.

“Is it time?”

He nods as a sigh passes his lips, “I’m on edge and my brain is fogged. I need to leave. My brain wants to do things that it shouldn’t.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be safe please don’t worry about me,” turns on his heels to walk out the door.

“Do I not get a hug goodbye?” He’s never left without saying goodbye.

“In all honesty your scent is sending me into overdrive. I think it’s best if we don’t.”

You can’t help the feeling of rejection that takes over you. He walks out the door and you can’t help but feel worried about him. You know how much he’s been dreading this.

The whole day you attempt to distract yourself by doing homework, but you can’t help but be worried about your best friend. At night you lay awake hoping to receive at least a text from Jisung letting you know he’s okay.

It’s ten in the morning when your phone starts ringing. Unfamiliar number is on your screen and you waste no time answering the phone quickly.

“Hello?”

“YN?” You immediately recognize the voice on the other side as Chan.

“Chan, is Jisung okay?” You’re suddenly worried your best friend is hurt or something is wrong.

“Jisung is in pain,” he sighs. “His first rut isn’t easy. We told him he needs to act on his needs somehow but he won’t listen. He just keeps moaning your name,” he pauses, giving you a moment to process everything he’s saying. “I don’t know much about your friendship or relationship with Jisung. But I haven’t ever heard him mention another girl other than you.”

“Is there anything I can do?” You don’t know what you can do to help but you don’t want him in pain.

“He’s gonna kill me for even calling you, but he needs someone to help him relieve himself.”

You swallow attempting to process what he just said. “Are you asking me to have sex with him?”

“YN I’m really sorry, but yes.”

“Okay, text me your address.”

Hanging up the photo you took a moment to gather yourself. This was absolutely insane and you probably shouldn’t be so willing to do this. Looking in the mirror you push your fingers through your hair and take a deep breath. Roaming around your room you start packing up an overnight bag. You aren’t exactly sure what you’ll need or how long you’ll be gone but you start packing some clothes to change into and some hygiene essentials.

The drive to Chan’s place feels like it's taking a lifetime. Your head is swimming as you drive there. Pulling up to a house on the edge of the forest you find Chan sitting outside with a blonde boy you’ve seen a few times.

“Thank you for coming,” Chan says, walking towards you. “This is Hyunjin by the way.”

“Nice to meet you,” Hyunjin says, giving you a little smile.

“Where’s Jisung?” you ask.

“Follow me,” Chan says.

He leads you into the busy house. Walking inside you see a few of boys you’ve seen before. He leads you up stairs to a room down the hall.

“He’s in there.”

You hear a loud moan that sounds a mixture of pain and pleasure.

Opening the door you step inside and find Jisung shirtless laying in bed in nothing but a pair of boxers. You can’t help stare at his toned body on display.

His eyes snap to you and he jumps out of bed quickly. “YN?” He stands there staring at you with lust blown eyes. “Why are you here?”

You drop your bag on the floor by the bag as you stare at him. “Chan said you were in pain,” you take your sweater off sitting it on top of the dresser next to you.

“I’m here to help,” you’re absolutely insane and you know it. You literally came across town to have sex with your best friend because he’s in the middle of his first rut.

“Do you have any idea what you’re offering?” He swallows loudly and steps back. “Medicine doesn’t fix this.”

“Jisung I know what I’m offering,” you take a step towards him.

“We shouldn’t do this,” he shakes his head.

There is a stinging feeling in your chest, a feeling of rejection. “It’s okay if you don’t like me like that or you’re not attracted to me. I just thought it might be nicer than some random girl.”

“YN it’s not because I’m not attracted to you or I don’t like you. I’m just worried I’m gonna hurt you. I want to knot you so bad,” he practically growls. You blush at the mention of him knotting you. This isn’t the first time you’ve heard of knotting. Early on after he was changed he mentioned it when he was rambling on one day nervously, and when you asked questions be awkwardly explained his new anatomy.

There’s a warmth that washes over your body at the thought of Jisung being rough with you and you can’t help but wonder what it would feel like for him to stretch you open with his knot.

His breathing is heavy as he steps towards you with dark eyes. He’s looking at you like you’re the only thing the world.

“You need to leave now,” he growls.

“Jisung, I don’t want to. I want to help.”

He inhales deeply, stopping right in front of you, “oh my god you smell intoxicating.”

“I can do whatever you need me to.”

He steps closer to you. There’s barely any room between you as he puts his hand on your cheek tilting your head back. He swallows loudly looking at you with a hunger in his eyes.

“I might say some stuff I don’t mean. I’m really sorry if I make you feel uncomfortable.”

“What could you possibly say that makes me uncomfortable? Jisung it’s me, I’m your best friend.”

He leans his head back taking a deep breath, “my body burns thinking about what I want to do to you. The thought of knotting you makes me feel like I’m going insane.”

You look down between you to see his hardened length straining against his boxers.

“Jisung do whatever you want,” you say softly.

His eyes snap down to yours with blown pupils. He practically growls staring at you. “Don’t say shit like that. I need you to keep me in check. Tell me I can’t be rough. Tell me I’m just your friend.”

His last sentence catches you off guard, you’re taken out of the moment as you knit your eyebrows together, “Jisung why do I have to tell you you’re just my friend?”

He swallows, stepping back shaking his head, “because if that’s not burned into my mind I could do something stupid.”

“What could you possibly do?”

“I could mark you.”

Your eyes go wide as you process what that means, “do wolves mark their friends?”

“Wolves don’t feel a need to mark someone unless they’re in love with them,” he shakes his head and moves away from you.

Reaching down grabbing his hand you stop him from walking away from you, “are you in love with me?”

“Please don’t make me answer that,” he sighs.

“Jisung tell me if you love me or not,” you demand as a sea of emotions starts to take over you. Your eyes start to brim with tears.

“I’m a monster. YN I can’t hurt you, there’s literally something inside me right now screaming at me to shove you against the wall and take you right now. It’s taking everything in me not to rip your clothes off with my teeth, shove my knot deep inside you.”

You can’t help but rub your thighs together at the mention of him ripping your clothes off with his teeth. You try to push away the inappropriate thought, “that doesn’t answer my question.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he steps closer to you again.

“You’re hurting me right by not telling me if you love me or not.”

There’s a long moment of silence between you as Jisung stares at you. The room feels small and an aching feeling is starting in your chest. “Han Jisung, if you're too afraid to admit how you’re feeling I’ll tell you how I feel. I’m hopelessly in love with you. I loved you before you turned and I’m pretty sure I fell even more in love with being by your side during this.”

“YN I’m so afraid, I love you so much and I can’t lose you.”

“You won’t ever lose me,” you know his rut is heightening all his senses. You stand right in front of him and smile at him softly. “Let me help you through this. Not as your friend but as someone who is head over heels in love with you.”

He nods his head, putting his hands on your hips and moving you closer to him. “Please don’t let me get too rough with you. I’ll try my hardest not to hurt you with my knot.”

“Okay.”

He leans down, crashing his lips into yours for a heated kiss. Your fingers tangle in his hair holding him close to you. There’s a warmth that washes over you as your lips move together.

Stepping away from you with a wild look in his eyes he practically growls, “I need you naked.”

You can’t help but smile stepping away from him. You waste no time stripping down to just your underwear. You’re completely bare from the waist up staring at him.

“You’re stunning,” he says, reaching out and taking your breast in one hand. “I can’t even say all the things I want to do to you.”

His lips crash into yours like a wave crashing on the shoreline. His hands grip your sides holding you close to him. You can’t help but moan as his hand moves down to grip your butt pulling you close.

Tilting your head back, his lips trail down your neck gently nipping at the skin.

“Jisung,” you moan loudly.

“I never thought I would hear you moan my name,” he groans with his lips against your skin.

“Please get fully naked and lay on the bed so I don’t manhandle you,” he steps away from you.

“Okay,” he’s trying his hardest not to hurt you.

Stripping away your last layer of clothes you lay down on the full size bed under the window. He strips away his own clothes and his hardened length slaps against his stomach catching your attention.

He crawls on the bed and sits on his hunches between your legs. His hands rub and down your sensitive skin on your inner thighs.

“I’ve wanted this forever for so long. Even before I turned, but when I turned I just craved you even more,” he groans. He presses his lips on your stomach. “There’s this voice inside my head that just keeps telling me all things I want to do to you. You turn me on so much it’s hard to control myself.”

“Jisung do whatever you want to me,” you can’t help but wonder about all the dirty things he’s thought about doing to you.

“I can’t lose control, no matter how much I want to lose myself in you,” he runs his finger through your already wet folds. “I can’t hurt you.”

His index finger does lazy circles on your sensitive bundle of nerves as his other hand rubs your thigh. You moan softly at the overwhelming feeling. Your eyes are focused on him as he stares at you. His finger slides into you slowly.

“Jisung please enough of this. I just want you,” you moan.

He moves away from you and lays on the bed next to you. You look over at him confused on what he’s doing.

“Condoms are in the nightstand, I need you on top. I can’t risk getting too rough. Hyunjin’s girlfriend still has bruises from Hyunjin first rut.”

Crawling off the bed you grab a foil packet from the night stand and tear it open. Crawling onto the bed you slide the rubber down his hardened length. He groans as you touch him. He’s so hard it looks absolutely painful. You straddle his waist with his erection right in front of you. Biting your bottom lip you stare at Jisung who looks feral staring up at you. Taking his length in one hand you move so you’re hovering over him. He holds his breath as you slowly sink down. Once he fills you completely you sit there on him with your hands resting on his chest.

“Han Jisung I love you,” leaning down your nose rested against his. You press your lips to his for a heated kiss.

“I love you so much, and I really need you to move because I feel like I’m dying.”

Pulling away you rest your hands on his chest as you start to move your body up and down his length. His hands tightly grip your hips as you move up and down his length. The room is filled with the echoing sounds of skin hitting skin, and the low moans passing Jisung’s lips. The sight of Jisung under you with his bottom lip caught between his teeth is a sight you want to remember for the rest of your life.

“Please go faster,” he whimpers. It’s clear he’s trying his hardest to keep control of himself.

“Anything for you,” you moan.

You pick up the pace going as quickly as you can. His hand moves to grip your butt kneading your skin and earning a low moan from you.

His head rolls back and you see the sight of his fangs showing. Your hand moves towards his jaw tilting his head down to look at you. “Are you gonna mark me?” You ask if his fangs are showing because he wants to mark you. The thought of him marking is so intriguing to you, and you can’t quite explain why.

“I can’t. Not yet,” he growls.

“Did Hyunjin mark his girlfriend?”

He grips your hips tightly causing you to still completely. His eyes are wild as he stares at you as he sits up holding your body close to him as you sit on his lap.

“He marked her, but this is different.”

“What do you mean?”

“I can’t just mark you because I told you I love you.”

You run your fingers through his hair and he softens under your touch, “am I your mate?”

“I believe so. I feel a connection towards you I haven’t ever felt towards someone before. I love you so much.”

“Then why don’t you mark me?”

“Because I want this to be more romantic. I don’t want to do it just because I feel like I’m losing my mind,” he sighs, dropping his head to your shoulder. His lips gently press a kiss to the area he would mark.

“Okay Jisung,” you push him back down on the bed. You smile down at him as you start to move your hips again.

“You better take me on a date after this,” you say, rolling your hips. A small smile spreads across his lips as he stares up at you.

“I will do anything for you,” he says, gripping your hips again.

You ride him until you find your release. The coil in your stomach snaps and a warm wave washes over you, the sweet release you find is unlike anything you have ever felt before. Throwing your head back you moan his name loudly not caring if any of the other boys in the house hear you. His hand tightly grips your hips as he continues to move you up and down his length as he chases his own release. There’s a stretching feeling in your core you've never experienced before. Your eyes go wide realizing his knot is expanding. You moan his name adjusting to the feeling.

He moves your body slowly up and down his length. Each time his slowly expanding knot catches your entrance you can’t help but moan.

“Are you going to let me knot you and fill you up?” He groans. The lusted filled haze is taking over his brain.

Silently you nod unable to form words. “Does it hurt baby?”

“No,” you practically scream, still adjusting to the feeling.

“I knew you could take it.” He starts pressing wet kisses up your neck as he chases his high.

He slams you down on his lap coming undone moaning your name. Leaning forward you collapse on top of him. He wraps his arms around you and holds you close as you both pant trying to catch your breath. This is a moment you want to live in for the rest of your existence.

“I love you,” he whispers, never letting go.

He holds you close reminding you that you are locked together for a while. You lean back a little to look at his beautiful face.

“Sit up for me baby,” he says softly.

With your bodies still locked together you’re resting on your knees as you sit on his lap. His hand gently rests on your hips that are already starting to show fingerprint shaped bruises.

“I hurt you,” he sighs.

“Jisung, you didn’t hurt me. Please don’t ruin this moment by worrying about some bruises. Please just hold me.”

He sighs and lays back down. “Promise me if I ever hurt you, you’ll let me know.”

“I promise, now please hold me before round two.”

He smiles and kisses the top of your head, “I see you already want another round while we’re still locked together.”

-

Laying in his bed he holds your hand tightly. Tomorrow is another full moon, and even though he can now easily change at will. The full moon still scares him. You curl your body close to his resting your head on his chest. Your leg is resting across his stomach as you cling to him.

“Jisung?”

“Yeah baby?”

“Don’t be nervous. It’s going to be way easier than it’s been,” you say softly.

“I’m trying to tell myself things are getting easier,”

Things between you and Jisung are different, but it’s for the better. He pushes your hair to the side and looks at the crescent shaped mark on your skin that’s starting to fully heal.

“Did you want me to stay here or did you want me to go to Chan’s place with Minho’s mate, and Hyunjin’s girlfriend?”

“You can stay with the other girls, if you would like,” he runs his fingers across your mark.

“If I stay at Chan’s house, I’ll be closer to you.”

“You won’t have to wait for me. I'll just join you in bed.”

You lay there holding each other. You fall asleep to the sound of his heartbeat, and you can’t help but fall more and more in love with every beat of his heart.

Regarding my taglist: I’m tagging so many people like 300+ people and the the amount of reblogs and interactions I’m getting compared to my taglist make me quite sad. I kindly ask if you request to be tagged that you interact with my writing. It takes me a really long time to make sure I tag everyone. Im going to start removing silent readers and blank blogs to make tagging easier. If you want to on a taglist the form is still open. Im just really asking for interaction if I’m spending the time to tag you.

Thank you to anyone who has been replaying to the post and reblogging them.

[thinkingnot]

c!clingy!!!!!

[tarjapearce]

Heathens (Pt. 2)

Priest! Miguel O'Hara x Nun! Reader

Art by @mar_mar0u in X

WARNINGS: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Religious topics, Corruption Kink, Oral in holy places (Male receiving) Fingering, implicit Breeding kink, Angst, violence (Whipping, and other physical injuries) Character background, sexual and mutual pining, power dynamics, not proofread.

Summary: Father Miguel is growing tired of his beatific life.

A|N : reblogs and feedback fuel me :'). Thanks in advance.

Previous Spanish Version

Miguel tried, tried with all his might to fool himself. It was one of those things he excelled at like no other.

The war won't reach us.

He'd always mumble to his coworkers back at the machinery factory. A place he was designated after failing thr recruitment's medical tests. On purpose.

He faked his eye sight terrible and a slurred speech enough for the doctors to deem him a failing specimen that wouldn't last for more than days, in a war that had brought nothing but calamit to everyone involved.

People barely spoke to him at the factory, which played off perfect. He did his job, none bothered him except for reaching things too far of reach, and he got home safe.

A lanky man that slowly but surely developed his brawns within the heavy duty line. His job was to fix and assemble motors that would end up in cars, planes, ships and whatever medium used to destroy the enemy.

Part of Nueva York was already destroyed. The echelons in society blurred to the point of subduing everyone under the same category in the neighbor states. Refugees.

The church played an important part as they took as many as they could under their beatific walls.

Miguel wasn't a devote believer, but respected the business enough to help whenever they required it in his little town. Anyone who helped others in need had his respect.

If the church needed a new roof to harbor in more refugees, he and other men would make it. The innate feeling of helping and guiding others was something the Church's Father always complimented.

He explained Miguel what would he do in case he turned himself to God and follow a path of holy life. But no matter how much the Father spoke, his ties to the world and it's pleasures were too much to give up.

Miguel had all the qualities of being the perfect Father, but how could he consider such thing when the woman underneath him, writhed while clawing at his back, and begged the heavens above for him to not stop? Begged him to plow harder within her drenched and spasming walls over and over?

A Father would never do that. He didn't care if he was called basic for wanting sex. He didn't care if he was called greedy for wanting a nice car and a little property in a secluded area in the outskirts of Roeville.

And he definitely didn't care if he was called thoughtless for wanting a little family in the admist of chaos. Someone to get home to. Cause again, a Church's father would never. They could never do such things. If anything, he'd fulfill the lord's command of multiplying one day.

He was more than happy as he was, living a relatively innocuous life.

The war won't reach us.

A lie he fed himself to the point of turning it into his personal mantra. And when none else that those three words came into the town, in the shape of armored rebels, destroying everything he had worked for so hard, Miguel knew a decision needed to be done.

He took the remaining survivors out and guided them away from cruel eyes that wouldn't doubt into recruiting them into their madness.

He might have escaped the elite pass to a major scale war, but he often forgot about the opposition. The opportunists that would gain power in the right hands of ignorant and bloodthirsty people.

The rebels had gone town to town, forcefully recruiting men to join their barracks, to fight against a new order that promised nothing but their rights removed.

Miguel didn't want to know shit about it.  He didn't want to partake in a war he didn't start. He didn't want to leave the commodities life had served him so far. In fact, as he guided the people through the frozen river, he begged his neglected friend above to allow him to keep a rather easy life.

But rebels caught up to him, killing those that dared to run away, gaining the immediate end for treason to a cause they've never pledged for. A bullet ricocheted on the six year old boy propped on his shoulders, falling immediately to the glacial waters.

Miguel didn't doubt and pulled the kid out, despite feeling his bones freezing and numbing, and hauled him to the ground. If blood loss didn't kill him, hypothermia would. There was little he could do but offer the child a few words of consolation as he held his feeble and trembling form, drowning in tears; feeling the short life escaping warmly through his fingers.

Shouting, screaming and a couple of shots was all he could discern before an armored man pulled him by the collar, making him drop the boy's body to the ground and kneel. The tip of the man's weapon rested a bit too intimate on his head.

"P-Por favor!" (Please)

Miguel mumbled in between nervous pants snd clattering teeth as his hands rose in defense.

The man interrogated him, in spanish. Where was he from, where were the rest and what did he do. And like an epiphany, his mouth spilled the words not even in his wildest dreams he thought pronouncing.

"Soy... Soy un Padre, de la Parroquia San Buenaventura. Sólo vine a ayudar." (I'm a Father, from San Buenaventura's Parish. I came here to help.)

Said parish had been visited during his childhood and possibly long forgotten and non-existant by now, everything he knew about holy endeavours was thanks to his reluctant catholic upbringing. And it was enough to prolonging his stay in this realm.

"Porqué huiste entonces?" (Why did you run away then?)

"No quiero morir." (I don't wanna die.)

The man scrutinized his soul, but the words had came out his plump mouth with such conviction, it left no room for doubtsto those that wouldn't hesitate in shooting at the minimum sign of lying.

Miguel could be one of those people that could say undoubtedly God has a dark sense of humor. Cause none other than the leader asked him to bless him and his weapons to then take the reduced and mourning group to the nearest church.

And now, almost a decade and holy studies later, he preached the mass to people in town. Donned with the holy robes that would screech with condemning words if people ever knew what crossed his mind every time he laid his eyes on you.

His little lamb. His ever delicious little lamb, awaiting to be corrupted by none other than the wolf himself.

Cause that night, back at his den, corruption had ruled over both of your minds. Not only he had shown you what pleasure was and how you could achieve it on your own, but promised more.

More of him exploring places of your body none had the blessing of doing so before. More of him tasting those areas you only though of a single purpose, but his tongue had proven multi-task. More of that debauchery ritual where you'd finally be his.

With a heavy heart and little words beyond see you soon, you left to your duties, back to the reality. Leaving him alone with a painful and raging boner. Screaming for him to not neglect it that way ever again.

And he tried. By God he was trying to not pull you to a nearby storage room and taste you again. His whole body turned into this needy mass of nerves whenever you stared his way a second too long.

The remaining innocence in you, edged him into fisting his hand around himself and pump into oblivion at night before sleeping. His mind took a recent knack for torturing him.

It reminded him of the first months into his chastity vows, and how close he was into breaking them with a woman that was beyond willing to satisfy her own curiosity regarding priests, but war, his cruel friend; acted as the main motivator to remain within line, since it still waged outside and men were still needed outside to die.

And no matter how many gorgeous women paraded under his radar, his vows remained intact.

Until you showed up, drenched in his door, in dire need of help. Not only had you shaken every promise he was trained to believe, to their very core. But ebbed him to his old sinful ways.

The wolf's pelt was growing too large within the sheep's robe he had disguised himself with, in order to run from a fate that was nothing more than a premature death.

The parishioner's voice snapped him out of his darkening thoughts, he dictated a penance and an absolution prayer, not really caring for the man's sins, cause he was worse. He closed the confessional window and stood to open the door.

Only to find the reason of his impure thoughts before him, sitting on the floor, polishing the altar's candle-snuffer.

His dark pupils were blown wide as your hands stroked with gentle moves the handle. How such mundane task turned his gears for the wrong turn was the proof of your power over him.

His groin twitched when your hand circled around the brass bar and moved up and down the rag to remove as much dust as possible, pumping softly.

"Sister."

His voice came out in a husky mumble he tried to keep in his usual deep tinge. But his composure cracked as soon as you turned around and stared back with those beautiful doe eyes of yours.

He gulped.

"What are you doing, pequeña?"

"Sister Leanne sent me to polish the altar's tool as a punishment for the missing vegetables in the inventory."

You mumbled between nervous laughs. And he chuckled. Of course Sister Leanne would do that. As gentle as the woman was, she didn't hesitate into applying discipline the way she saw fit.

She needed to set an example, even more when she was about to be ascended to Mother Superior or Abess.

"I apologize."

"Whatever for, Father?

"I can't deny part of it it's my fault. As I lead you astray from your original tasks."

A flush crept on your cheeks as soon as your mind flooded with the remnants of that night.

"It was the rain, Father. Not you."

"I thought I told you to not call me that when alone."

"I'm sorry. Some habits are hard to kill."

"And remove."

You swallowed a thick lump. His eyes were already undressing you with his red-ish gleam.

"I... started to wear less layers."

May God have mercy on his soul, cause his need gnawing at his flesh certainly wasn't having it. His chest puffed with a deep inhale

"You were right about them. They're... They're heavy to wear. Makes it impractical for almost everything."

He nodded knowingly as an idea popped in his already tainted and corrupted mind.

"That's true. Robes makes it heavier and slows you down."

"I thought the cassock was lightweight? "

He shook his head and offered you his hand for you to stand up. A hidden invitation to his wicked game. You took it.

"It is when done with the proper materials. Otherwise is heavy." He led you inside the confessional. And closed the door as soon as you were in. Cornering you against the hefty oak doors.

Your breath hitched as soon as his hands placed yours on his chest. A pleased purr rumbled through upon the contact.

"Heavy isn't it?" You nodded while feeling the smooth and thick fibers of cotton, stretching all over his chest underneath your fingertips.

"That's why I don't use layers underneath."

Heat begun pooling in the pit of your stomach, "You don't?

He didn't have to instruct you verbally to confirm such thing. His eyes guided your hands through the map of his body to finally stop inches above his tightened crotch.

His heart crinkled with utter delight upon seeing your eyes widen and blink while admiring him. Hardening even further at every second you weren't touching him.

"It's alright. Don't be ashamed. Knowing one's body is crucial to identify where some sins come from."

He sat at the chair, his throne, with his legs sprawled, the cassock tightened around his well sculpted and worked legs, tightening enough to outline the silhouette of his awakening cock.

The confessional was custom built, and given his height, two people could fit in. And what better use for it than having you inside with him. Trapped between his neverending legs.

"Would you know what to name a man's anatomy, pequeña?"

He removed the fabric belt around his waist to then unbutton the lower part of the cassock. Revealing a set of lighter pants, trapping his erection underneath.

Your eyes shamelessly remained on the happy trail leading to the growing bulge between his legs. Curiosity was definitely taking a choke hold on your brain. Although built big enough for two people average sized, you had to crawl closer between him.

"I believe it's called a... c-cock."

"A cock, yes." He nodded proudly, "And how would you know such thing, Hm?"

He beckoned you closer, holding your chin gently while at it.

"T-There's an anatomy book well hidden in the library. I don't wish to remain completely ignorant to my surroundings, Father."

"Ah, I see." He let the father calling go for this time, cause the surprise in your face was everything a man could get when about to perform one of the most lascivious of acts.

He took himself out, letting his erection to sprung in it's full glory before you.

"Does it looks like the one in the book?"

You shook your head softly. His flushed and engorged tip, twitched upon feeling your breath oh so close to his velvet skin.

"At all."

The rich fragrance of clean soap and woody incense remained in his skin.

"You're allowed to touch."

With a new gulp on your throat and hesitating hands, your fingertips grazed  his tip. Earning a little hiss from him. Finally feeling other textures that wasn't his calloused hands.

Curiosity made you take him firmer around the base, his hands enveloped yours and guided you to stroke him, up and down.

Your cheeks flushed even deeper while watching his face contorting in pure bliss. It reminded you the way he looked at you as he was devouring your now tingling flesh.

"Does it feels good?"

He nodded through hazed eyes, urging you to move your hand faster with his own, setting a tortuous tempo.

"Oh, very. Very good." he nodded and panted breathlessly, nails clawing at the cushioned part of his seat.

"Then... why is a sin?"

As much as he wanted to quench your learning thirst and instruct you through it, he couldn't care less about what was a sin and what not. But he could satisfy said interest with a more practical example.

"Open your mouth." He talked as he took his hefty cock and beckoned impossibly closer.

Your clothed chest rested inches away from his inner thighs. Lips parted open and when his tip rubbed between your lips, your tongue moved on its own and swirled on his slit. Earning a shaky whimper from him.

"Dios..." His head was thrown back as you took his whole tip inside. The warmth your lush mouth offered couldn't be compared. His hips bucked and you groaned when another inch was pushed in.

"Keep going, pequeña." He husked as he slid a hand underneath your headdress and took a gentle hold of your nape. With enough pressure he guided you up and down pushing as much cock as he could into your mouth, withdrawing carefully whenever you gagged.

The soft saltine taste bursted all over your taste buds, singing in delight. You were tasting a man. The proper way. You hummed approvingly.

Once more he took himself by the base and slapped your awaiting tongue a couple of times with his tip before pushing in  again.

His shaky groans turned into deep and raged pants the more your cheeks hollowed around him, licking and sucking in a pace that had him thrusting his hips softly and melting. His hands didn't know whether to claw or hold on whatever surface they had underneath.

The wet and sloshing noises from your mouth made him dizzy, and your hand squeezing his balls gently wasn't helping. Seeing your eyes filled with the same unmarred lust as his, corroded any rational and holy thought our of his frying brain.

You were dangerous. Oh, so dangerous he could mistake you for the very snake that temped Eve back in Eden, cause your tongue swirled and tasted in the right places like no other, despite being your first time.

And by God, he knew you weren't made for a holy life. You couldn't. He refused to believe you were made for such simple and boring life when you were sucking his demons out with such artistry, he couldn't feel but jealous at the sudden thought of someone else teaching you such things.

No woman had achieved such feat on him before by using solely her mouth.

"Sigue, por favor-" He gulped and bit his lip before a loud moan could escape him. His eyes tried to keep on front watching you, bobbing your head up and down. (Keep it going)

If your mouth was delicious, he couldn't help but wonder, how your insides felt.

Would you be drenched? Would you be tight for him? Would you take him as well as your mouth did? Of course you would. You were using your mouth only and left him yearning for more than that.

His teeth bared as his pants turned even more raged and blown. The soft kisses alternated between kitten kicks and unabashed lapping, bending not only his will, but the urge to hold you in place and have fun with your mouth.

The sight of you being bold and taking him in a go completely, made him explode with an acute, shaking and broken whimper.

"Mnnfuck-" He held you in place while he squeezed the very last drop of his hot cum down your throat. All while you looked at him with drunk, pleasurable eyes as you swallowed him.

His chest heaved and his hand rubbed over his face, awash with raw need. But you didn't stop there.

A low humming rumbled through, reverberating through his skin. Sending another wave of jolts down his spine. His head was spinning a second per hour

"W-Wait..." but you didn't listen, you kept tasting and his teeth clenched, "E-Esperate-" He blabbed and choked, his trembling hand took a firm hold of your headdress and pulled his limping cock out your mouth with a squelching pop.

But your tongue sought him, hungry and hypnotised by his taste.

"Stop- Oh Dios... S... Stop-" you whined as he hunched and rested his forehead against yours, putting his throbbing cock back to it's confinements. His breath fanned over your mouth and kissed you deeply. Drowning any furtive and remaining moans.

His tongue swirled over yours, luring it only for a mischievous suck to be delivered, tasting himself in the process.

"Please" You clung to him, body doused with fire, and his nose heaved deeply, still recovering from what you provoked within. His eyes remained shut for a second, to then seizing you with a tender look.

"Not yet, pequeña."

"Not yet. Then, when?!" You whined impatiently, "If you don't want me anymore just say it!"

He understood your frustration, he really did. With gentle hands he cupped your face.

"I do want you." He pecked your lips, "More than this pretty head of yours refuses to believe. But we must wait."

"I don't want to!" You sniffed and he kissed your head once again, soothing your frustration with feathery kisses. Then he stood and picked you up easily in his arms to finally sit you on his chair.

"If I am to claim you, is cause I'm taking my time to destroy every bit of your mind, understand?"

His hands immediately stirred up the skirt of your habit up to your waist, proving your words true of you wearing less layers, leaving your thighs and cunt bare to him as they were parted and placed on each side of the chair's arms.

With a serpent-like motion, he swept his tongue over his lips, awash with prurience when his gaze remained in your drenched entrance. Drooling and glistening, begging to be taken.

There was something he couldn't truly explain when he had you like that. It played too many good tricks in his dazed mind.

As much as he wanted to bury himself to the hilt, he couldn't. He didn't want you to be marked by a whip and shunned before the whole church as a heathen.

He didn't want you to bear with Cain's mark and be despised by the whole community just cause you gave into a natural need.

Two of his fingers coated in your slick, to then rub ever gently at your needy and throbbing nub of nerves. Gaining him a soft coo.

"I need to take my time to posses every bit of you, dear."

Your mouth gaped and whimpered as he slid inside with a sloshing fwop. Walls immediately etched to his fingers, squeezing him and urging to go deeper.

"You think I don't want to take you right here? " He kissed your lips and then your jaw

His thumb rubbed in slow but firm strokes, applying enough pressure to have you a blabbing mess and tidal waves of pleasure quenching your body's primal need.

His fingers hooking and wriggling inside only earned him a renewed groan. Your hands clutched at the surface behind you, as his fingers delved deeper, meaner and faster. Your frame shook with every stroke he delivered in your weeping walls.

He had to cover your mouth at the lewdness spilling out nonstop of it, to focus on the increasing wetness he provoked in your slurping hole.

A shaky whimper was muffled the more he pumped his fingers into you, grazing that sweet and exquisite spot that got your body trembling and your walls contracting around him in a wicked and debauched symphony. Your head was thrown back, too heavy with lascivious thoughts to function properly.

Mouth parted to whine and eyes remained shut, unable to digest the obscene display of prowess by his fingers. Your tightness increased by every second, signaling your need for release.

"Come"

An order. Disobeying was out of the question. A specific thrust had your spine arching and your soaked hole exploding with something so devastatingly delicious, it had you panting and mewling in heat as you drenched Miguel's hand and forearm completely, he kept prodding and poking at that gummy spot within you. Your nails clawed at the seat, trying to anchor your floating soul to your body.

"Oh my God!" You hiccuped in a garbled moan.

His palm kept your stuttering hips under control, his eyes remained at the spasming muscles within you, trying to keep his fingers inside, sucking, squeezing and milking him.

"Tan perfecta." He crooned while pulling out gently to lick and slurp his fingers clean and kiss you with all his might . (So perfect)

Too enraptured in your taste to hear the approaching steps until too late.

"Father O'Hara?"

The voice from the other side of the wall made both to freeze in place. Your eyes went wide and his grip on your panting mouth tightened.

"Are you there?"

Miguel placed a drenched finger in his lips.

Closing your eyes shut, you both awaited for whoever that had arrived to leave, and once the steps could no longer be heard, he released you.

And you gasped and panted for air and he smirked. Admiring with wickedness at his creation. He could already taste your little cries and whimpers for more of him. And damn him if he was lying if his mind didn't come up with the vilest of fantasies, like defiling you in the altar, at everyone's sight, so they could know the real him and show everyone he had claimed you and what they were missing.

He helped you on your feet and wipe away the thin layer of sweat covering your face with utmost care.

But that side was reserved to none else but you. His beloved lamb.

"Soon, I promise. Okay?"

He kissed your lips deeply, sealing his words with a promise. He was a man of word.

You'd have to wait a bit longer.

----

The dull ache in your lower belly announced your period's arrival. Asking the head of the medical supplies and writing your name in a book was a subtle way to keep the youngsters and  women in fertile age in check.

Given the few past experiences with nuns suddenly getting pregnant, security when it came to outings increased. Same for the Parish. Another guard was hired to keep the morning shift in case men came to lurk around.

The parish had a reputation to have beautiful nuns under the roof, even if older.

But since you had your period, no harm approached. You could see a little proud smile in Sister Danielle as you fetched your supplies for the week. Teas, pads, some painkillers and a brand new addition, moist towelettes from the city.

"If you run out of them, come again, alright?"

With a nod, you went to the bathroom and changed. You washed your hands and walked back to where Sister Leanne was, to tell her about your condition.

Cause in truth, you felt tired, pained and exhausted. Your face lit up upon seeing her.

"May we speak?"

"Not now. Discipline calls me."

Quirking a brow you looked at her while watching a trail of nuns behind her. One with a slender guava stick, another with a bucket in water, and the other with a rope.

"W-What's going on?"

"Come and see."

You weren't the only one that followed them. A group of nuns giggled, as they whispered hushed secrets to eachother.

Your fingers wrapped around your cross while following the rest, like a dutiful sheep.

To your surprise another nun was held as her sleeve was slit open, on both arms. The woman cried for mercy and soon she was pushed forward before the circle of nuns and Miguel that showed up alarmed.

"You have sinned!"

Sister Leanne begun with a commanding voice. even though Miguel was the Father, he had little to do with the nun's management.

Your mother figure pulled the crying woman's arm, showing a bruising a couple of inches away from her elbow.

"This woman has corrupted her body, the temple of Jesus Christ! With contraceptives!"

A collective round of gasps were heard through the nuns. Contraceptives, same as sex were the highest forms of faults within the Parish. Specially within the convent.

"Not only you poison your body with mundane pieces, but break your vows, just to obey your flesh's whims." Leanne spat with venom.

The poor woman was tied up against a post. Her habit was torn in the back, to expose her temporary unmarred, milky white skin. She begged for forgiveness as water was doused over her.

The first hit made you look away and cover your mouth, a sudden fear rose in the back of your throat.

His need of waiting was more than reasonable now.

This was one the motives why Miguel hadn't taken you yet. And seeing the poor woman writhe in pain and beg for her life, made you remind him of his words.

You had been so neck deep in wanting him that had forgotten completely about the consequences of your forbidden meetings.

The women's cries and pleas were muffled by the aggressive whistle the stick did everytime it swung to strike down and mark her over and over.

Your gaze locked with Miguel's briefly. His eyes said it all.

Now you understand?

As quickly as your eyes met him, you tore your gaze away. Too afraid of the possible lash out for simply looking at him.

A surge of cramps and the newly reached levels of stress had you folding over. His face fell upon the pain in yours. The supplies in your hands were self explanatory. Periods weren't something new to him, after all he took care of the women under his unit in the factory cause the rest was too stupid and scared to do something.

And as much as he wanted to approach and see if you were alright, he didn't want the situation to be mistaken for something else and draw unnecessary attention towards you both.

He felt a coward, but it also fueled his hate for the life he chose in order to save himself.

Once the punishment was finished, the woman was untied and taken to the infirmary. Sister Leanne looked at you

"What is you wanted to talk to me about?"

"My period."

"What about it?" Her voice accused with a frown, still on edge.

"I just asked Sister Danielle for my supplies." She heaved, relieved.

"Good. Good." She sighed and rubbed her face, "I want you to know that I'm not proud of the things I must do. But someone has to."

"I know."

"Please don't ever dare to betray me that way, okay?"

The stung in your chest just bloomed deeper with guiltiness.

What if I'm already doing it?

You nodded, gaining a hug from the woman that raised you, in order to ground herself from the sudden rage that took over her emotional panel of control.

Would you whip me too? Would you make me bleed?

"Go rest. I'll get you some food, alright?"

---

It had been days since either of you approached each other. The raw display of consequences of a failed secret affair was the culprit of the distance that grew wider and wider between the both.

It was a forceful reminder of what laid ahead if you ever got caught. Miguel knew how much the new Mother Superior loved you.

He always heard at dinner with the higher ranks the endless stories about you as a teenager. Precocious and daring. Nothing alike to the tame and demure woman he had already tasted twice.

Would she hate him for corrupting her little and perfect sheep? Absolutely. Maybe would whip him too if she could.

The thought alone made him chuckle.

The silence on both ends made him reflect in so many things he thought long forgotten.

A child's random laugh during a baptizing had brought to life that buried yearn. The way the little human stared at him with a toothless grin on their face sent his heart into a frenzy.

In fact, he always reminisced in the many families that paraded proudly on church. Displaying their affection, laughs and others that only echoed in the solitude of his residence outside the Parish.

There was none waiting for him, no little human screeching in happiness upon hid arrival, and no partner to share his daily adventures on his modest job. There wasn't nothing like that for him.

Just endless hours of praying, visiting the sick, bible studies, hypocritical speeches on how people act and behave with those around him and how to not succumb into the temptation, like he did.

He was the biggest hypocrite under the heavenly roof and everyone adored him. Congratulated and asked for tips on how to be more like him.

If he could, he'd say drink a beer every day and fuck a lovely woman whenever time allowed. But instead his mouth spilled the most ridiculous things such as keep your mind focused and away from trouble.

But he wanted trouble. He wanted that trouble to mewl and writhe underneath. He wanted that trouble to squeeze him to death as he came inside. And definitely he wanted that trouble to swell with his child.

Ten years in this lie had been more than enough for him. War had been long gone, everyone had moved on in the city. Mostly had families. But he...

His hand pinched the bridge of his nose.

Secularisation wasn't an option, since his name was already in many churches and abbeys and running away would imply to spend most of the savings he had done so far. Priest life paid shit, but if this neverending lie had taught him something, was to be more financially wise. And thanks to that, he could afford a home somewhere in the rural areas, away from prying eyes and judging glares.

He had enough of the white rectangle around his neck and the stupid golden ring on his finger dictating how to live his life. Even though God had granted him his wish of having a simple life, he didn't want it anymore.

He wanted it his way. And as entitled and selfish as the thought was, he deserved a forever break from his duties. He knew what he wanted.

He knew what he needed. And he needed you. He missed you. He wanted you to be his problem.

At first he thought it was the lack of contact and other people to talk to, but seeing you so scared back at the public whipping and your need to know more about the world, only reinforced his decision into making you his.

He could take you see places and explain things if you wanted. He could take you anywhere you wanted to. He could please you the times he saw fit without the fear of someone spying or you getting hurt by those that pledged a servitude oath.

Miguel knew what the nuns did to those that ended up pregnant and he wanted you safe. He had seen the underlying longing of knowledge in your eyes and see what was beyond those sacred walls.

Her period

His brain soared alive with the idea.

How many days had gone since you got it? Twelve days?

And if there was something he knew by heart is a woman's cycle. Ironically he used that knowledge to avoid getting his hookups pregnant, even if he used a condom. And now, he was using it for the opposite.

In two days you'd be ovulating. And you had returned early from a sudden trip due to sickness.

He didn't know if to thank God or his luck for such delicious coincidence.

But what if she decides to stay?

No. You wouldn't. You couldn't be so blind to do such thing. His plan was foolproof.

With the gears turning, he set his plan into motion.

----

Taglist:

@tango-juice @miaasmf @migueloharastruelove @slight-darkness @zombiesurf @oharasfilipinawife @thedevax @eepiebeepie @vsplanet @smartyren @m4dyy @keenspeachy @deputy-videogamer @the-colourfull-bean @killjoy-nightshadow @whos-writing-stuff @tomalymme @x0tw0d57 @huniedeux @ange-grayson @cubecube555 @riuichiii @plumplum2099

[lesbiantahani]

ignoring how it all ends ignoring the tragedy and the grief and the heartbreak of it all theres just. god there is something abt nats smile and laugh when misty kneels for her. she finds it endearing given the circumstances bc it's so fucking misty quigley its so goofy and uninhibited and nat laughs with dimples and flushed cheeks and she looks like a teenage girl again admist all this chaos and fear and uncertainty and its because misty is fully doing this dorky manoeuvre seriously and so fucking earnestly, she's pledging her undying loyalty and servitude and protection to her and nat feels it in her belly she feels it in her gut and it bubbles up into her throat and comes out as laughter and then 25 years later misty still held onto that pledge of loyalty she made and STILL is there looking after her, vows to help nat and find answers and save travis and heal and protect her. misty is still and always will be back at that cabin, kneeling as a knight to her queen

[todoriin]

lose something, babe | rin can't leave you if you do it first.

cw: toxic relationship, avoidant gn!reader, angst w comfort, ambiguous ending, unhealthy portrayals of love, read with caution.

The rain hits your windshield like bullets.

Even with your wipers cranked up to the most powerful option, you still can’t see too clearly admist the chaos, streetlights and passing cars becoming nothing but droplets of light in the dark. It’s exceptionally lonely in your car, and cold, too.

Bringing your sweater-covered hands to your mouth, you breathe warmth into them, reaching for your phone. 

No messages from Rin, or any notifications, for that matter. You don’t know whether to be relieved or saddened that he didn’t care to reach out in this weather, not that it surprised you. The only thing Rin will have with him when he crawls over mountains and swims across seas is his pride, and it’s the one thing he vehemently defends, even if it’s against you. 

He makes you feel so small in comparison to him, and in a way, you are. Your name isn’t on billboards, you don’t have millions of followers on social media, and you don’t have the ego of a thousand suns behind you. At any moment, he could leave, and you know that, so you'll do it first.

Even if it means getting trapped in a thunderstorm; your least favourite weather to be stuck outside in.

Your phone rings with the sounds of a call, phone speaker turned up to max volume to break through the thunderous storm.

“Isagi?” You greet.

“Yeah? What’s up?” He answers from the other end.

“Am I interrupting anything?”

“No, you can talk.” 

“Can I crash at yours for a little? I’m… a bit far from home and you’re closer to my location.”

“You’re outside? In this weather? Does Rin know?”

“Don’t tell him.”

“Why not?” 

You’re silent, pondering whether to lie or not. However, your lack of an answer gave Isagi one regardless.

“It’s none of my business, I shouldn’t have pried. Come over, you shouldn’t be alone in a storm like this.” 

“Thank you, it means a lot.”

“No problem. Drive safe.”

“I will.”

It feels a little warmer when Isagi hangs up, his friendliness contrasting the ice that Rin likes to weaponise and throw against you.

The drive to his takes no longer than five minutes, and when you arrive, Isagi is already waiting for you, bundled in a warm hoodie and track pants.

Comfort is standing under the light and warmth of his front entrance, gratitude is being thankful to have a roof over your head. 

“Come in,” the athlete ushers you inside. 

“I’m sorry to barge in like this,” you murmur guiltily, quietly removing your shoes because to make sound was to exist, and you don’t want your presence to be a burden to him. You know that you're out of place here, and that his hospitality was one you don't deserve.

“No, please don’t apologise. It’s what friends do for each other.” 

It’s peaceful at his place. There’s a 90s romance playing on his widescreen TV, an opened bag of chips on his coffee table paired with a no sugar fizzy drink. He ushers around the attached kitchen to pour you a cup of water.

You don’t recognise the show, and you won’t pretend like you do. To make conversation, you ask him what he’s watching, and whether or not it’s good since you’re on the lookout for good shows to watch. It’s only when Isagi’s done with his explanation that your phone buzzes with a message, the notification even reaching his ears.

“Is that Rin?” The dark-haired questions.

“Yeah.”

rin: The storm just reached here, are you safe?

y/n: yeah

Three bubbles appear, and then disappear, and then reappear. “Did something happen between you two?” Isagi asks, sincere and careful with his words. 

“A small argument.”

“Are you sure? I don't know if it was... small.”

The evidence is plastered all over your face. Puffy eyes, dry tear marks, a red nose- all traces of the breakdown you had in the car that you tried to wipe away, but the most observant of people in the world see what others don’t want you to. Isagi’s good at that exactly.

"Small arguments don't cause people to drive so far from home."

You might cry again if he keeps looking at you so pitifully. You’re not miserable, you want to tell him, that you’re happy in your relationship with Rin even though sometimes his thorns pierce your most guarded of layers. There are more ups than downs with Rin, and you work through them together, you just need some time to breathe without him first because it’s easier to do so without him, that’s just how love and relationships should work, and when will this nightmare end?

“It was a small argument,” you pinch your nose bridge, eyes stinging with tears that threaten to fall.

Isagi hums in sympathy, not believing your words. That’s when your phone buzzes with another message. 

rin: Where are you?

you: safe im turning notifications off

Isagi invites you to talk, that if you need the space, he’s offering it to you. What starts off as a small rant blows up into something you can’t control, only spaced out by sighs and noises of exasperation as you go over the fucked up things you both said to each other tonight. 

By the time you’re done, there’s a series of loud bashes on Isagi’s door. Rin’s voice comes from the other side, fighting the downpour outside that still drums down, neither of them relenting.

“Don’t open it,” Isagi tells you, and you remain frozen in your spot. It’s hard to get up, hard to breathe, hard to think as he easily gets up and walks over to the entrance.

Is Rin angry at you for coming here? Has he come to drag you back home? To continue the argument from before you stormed out?

An infinity stretches between now and Isagi opening the door, but time comes crashing down when you hear the abrasiveness of Rin’s voice. He’s demanding for you, asking if Isagi did anything to harm you as if he isn’t the sole reason for your tears and sorrow tonight. As if he isn’t the one who hurt you the most, and here he is, making a ruckus in the home of a man who let you under his roof when you couldn’t go home. 

“Rin, leave Isagi alone,” you call out, finally finding the courage to stand.

It’s silent, but the footsteps come barrelling towards you and Rin turns the corner with a frantic look in his eyes. 

“Fuck, baby, are you okay?”

You were until he showed up. “I’m fine. How did you know I was here?”

“Your location, you’re always sharing it with me.”

“I- then what gave you the right to show up?” You almost choke on your anger, “I don’t want to see you, Rin.” 

His grip on the wall tightens, as if the floor beneath him would give out from any second and he’d be sent tumbling into the abyss of emotions he can’t recognise and refuses to recognise. Despite it all, he can’t stop looking at you, as if tearing his eyes away would cause you to vanish, and he’d be tripping after traces.

“I needed to know if you were safe,” your boyfriend breathes shakily, pushing himself off the wall and towards you. You back away and only stop when your feet hit the couch, and Rin cages you in easily, large hands wrapping around your wrists like chains. “Come home, babe.”

“I want space, Rin.”

“I’ll give you space, I’ll give you everything you need, just- come home,” he begs, leaning in to rest his foreheads against yours with closed eyes. 

It’s airy and desperate, the way he speaks. It is a siren’s song, and you shouldn’t listen, but oh, he is speaking so softly and kindly that it lures you in to a false sense of security. You almost close your eyes- almost, but in the moment it matters most, you push him away, allowing him to see your sorrowful state for the first time since he caused it.

Is love supposed to be as cruel as Itoshi Rin? Is it supposed to make you cry, fight, and thrash?

“Let go,” you try to tear your hands out of his, but he only retaliates by kissing your complaints away, swallowing them with his mouth so that your venom will settle in his stomach instead of his heart. 

He’s insistent and everywhere. One of his legs are slotted between yours, his hands are warm on your cheeks, and the clash of his nose and teeth against yours feel so raw and human that it drains all of your fight out of you. How do you run away from this?

Persistently and blindly, he places kisses along your face, never straying too far from your lips.

No matter how much you want to pull away, you fight for what you love, not against it, so you sink into him instead and let Rin run his course, helpless to his onslaught of affection.

You try not to cower away too much.

“I’m sorry,” Rin whispers. “Don’t be mad anymore, I’m sorry for being a dick, come home, I'll leave, I just need to know that you're safe.” 

He coaxes you into coming home with him, that you can come pick up your car tomorrow because he knows you hate driving in heavy rain. That he’ll pay for whatever parking fees you have accumulated. That you can talk- really talk it out, together at home.

The look Rin gives Isagi is less than friendly when you bid your farewells. You deem it compulsory to go out tomorrow to buy a gift for the poor soccer player, who has been an involuntary witness to the mess that is tonight. 

There is concern in Isagi’s eyes when you turn around to wave goodbye. 

[miguelswifey04]

hobie gives fairy!spidey a hug just to tease her and suddenly a giant tree appears in the hq—and everyone just stares at it (whenever she’s flustered she leaves behind flower petals and leaves, basically nature things)

YES i’ve been waiting for this one 🧚🏽‍♀️✨🤍

hobie brown x fairy!spidey! f reader

warnings: none; pure fluff

as hobie playfully wraps his arms around you, teasing you with a warm hug, a sudden influx of magical energy fills the room. as everyone's eyes widen in surprise, they turn their attention to a stunning sight before them – a gigantic tree towering in the middle of the headquarters.

leaves, flower petals, and vines cascade down from you, caught in a whirlwind of your own powers. you blush, your cheeks radiating warmth as the room fills with the sweet scent of nature. the other members of the team are in awe, witnessing this breathtaking display of your unique abilities.

hobie is taken aback but cranes his neck up in awe to see your cute little naturey powers in display. “woah , babe, looks like your powers are a little... bloomin’ today,” he chuckles as he nudges your arm playfully.

you were quite embarrassed as your emotions and feelings usually tied down to your fairy-like powers. “hobie, this is not the time nor the place for puns!”

despite the unexpected appearance of the tree, which now serves as a temporary centerpiece in the headquarters, everyone begins to appreciate the beauty and serenity it brings. soft light filters through the leaves, creating an enchanting ambiance in the room.

gwen comes from behind miles as she takes notice of the beautiful ambiance of the headquarters. she slightly giggles as she places an arm on your shoulder from behind. “well, i wasn't expecting this today, but i have to admit, it's strangely... peaceful.

miles nods as he chimes in standing next to hobie, “yeah, it's like a mini oasis in the middle of the concrete jungle.”

you take a deep breath, the petals and leaves gently swirling around you, and you manage to regain your composure. “okay, okay, let's not make a big deal out of it. i’ll just... figure out how to fix this. sorry about the inconvenience, everyone.” hobie grins, wrapping a comforting arm around your shoulders, “no need to apologize, babe. just another unexpected adventure in our crazy lives. we’ll deal with it together, like we always do.” hobie hugs you from behind as he leaves soft kisses on the side of your face.

miguel comes out of his office as jessica and peter are on his side. he’s sneezing as he somewhat seems to have allergies from all the plants, flowers, and pollen that seems to fill the air. “fairy, you need to-“ he gets caught off by his own sneezes and sniffles, “get rid of it. it’s cute and all but it messes up with my allergies, please.”

“uh—sorry miguel!! i’m on it!!” everyone around you laughs as they take in miguel’s disheveled appearance. with a renewed determination, you focus on your powers, calibrating your control to gradually dissipate the tree. leaves and petals gently fall from the air, slowly gathering in a small pile at your feet.

admist the chaos, a sense of unity and support fills the room, reminding everyone of the strength you find in each other and the undeniable bond you share.

———

a/n: bruh a spider fell on my bed while i was writing this 😭

[steveshairychest]

During high school, Eddie goes through the five stages of grief when he realises he's got a crush on Steve Harrington.

Denial comes first. He ignores his crush. He pretends not to be affected by Steve's smile, Steve's laugh, his sparkly eyes, and stupid perfect hair. When he catches himself staring at Steve across the cafeteria, he tears his eyes away angrily and reminds himself he's being an idiot. He doesn't have a crush on Steve.

Denial shifts into anger when he can't ignore it any longer. He has a crush on Steve fucking Harrington. Eddie scowls at himself in the school bathroom mirror, there's grass in his hair from where Steve and his friends shoved him to the ground 'accidentally' and he's pissed. He's pissed at Steve, at Tommy H and at himself; himself especially. He can't believe he has a crush on the guy who pushes people around with his friends, the guy that sneers down at kids like Eddie and beats people up for the smallest things. He's angry at himself for liking such an absolute dick.

Then he starts bargaining with himself. He lies on the floor of his bedroom, a cigarette in one hand, and the pencil Steve borrowed last week in the other. Things like - 'if only i could kiss him just once, then i'd never think about him again.' 'If I move schools, I won't have to see him.' - spiral around in his head as he tries to think of ways to get over his very inconvenient crush on Steve. Except he's bargaining with himself and he's not even sure if he's capable of getting over Steve. The jock has made himself quite comfortable in Eddie's mind (and heart).

Word that Nancy and Steve are dating reaches Eddie during lunch, and he tries his hardest to mask his disappointment, his jealousy. He wouldn't go as far as to say he is depressed, a little sad maybe. He knew that he had no chance with Steve, but that doesn't make it any easier to ignore the ache in his heart and it was even harder to resist curling up in bed and not moving all weekend. Eddie tells Wayne he's sick and that he needs to skip school on Monday. He isn't ready to see Nancy and Steve's no doubt over the top displays of affection

The acceptance doesn't come for a while. Steve graduates. Eddie doesn't. He's left wandering the school halls asking himself why his crush on Steve didn't leave when the jock graduated. Why is he still looking for Steve across the cafeteria? Why does he try to find Steve in a crowd of people? Why is he so caught up on a guy that he doesn't even see anymore? It doesn't make sense.

And then he sees Steve, really sees Steve.

He wishes they would have met under different circumstances. He can't even find it in himself to be excited to see Steve because he just watched a girl die in his trailer. And he's wanted by the police and said girls crazy boyfriend is hunting him and he's really freaking the fuck out.

Steve Harrington is the last person he expects to see admist all the chaos that is now his life.

But Eddie comes to learn that this Steve is different, softer, kinder. He doesn't call Eddie crazy when he explains what happened in his trailer. Actually, Steve is the one that sounds insane while explaining that there is an 'evil Hawkins with monsters' and that this sort of stuff apparently happens all the time. He struggles to accept that fact.

Eddie's crush on Steve starts to spiral out of control the more time they spend together preparing to fight an evil being Eddie isn't entirely sure exists. He wants to run and hide, but Steve’s smile has a hold on Eddie. The soft way he says Eddie's name and ensures him, "It'll be fine. We've done this a million times." Makes something inside Eddie want to stay by Steve's side. It wants to bump shoulders with Steve and tell him lame jokes to lighten the mood. It wants to ask questions that he never got to ask when they were younger. It just wants Steve, no, he just wants Steve.

Eddie's own impending doom causes him to start not hating the idea of having a crush on Steve.

And when they're saying goodbye and promising each other not to be heroes, all Eddie wants to do is confess. To tell Steve everything before things can go wrong. But the words die on his tongue the second Steve meets his eye. He can't do it. He's not ready to be rejected. "Make him pay." Eddie says instead, his smile wobbling slightly as he watches Steve leave.

The acceptance comes while he lays on the ground, his gaze blurry and his body numb as he watches the bats fall to the ground. Steve did it, he thinks to himself. He wants to laugh because, of course, his last thought would be of Steve, his lifelong crush. He can hear feet slapping the concrete and voices echoing around him but he's already too far gone to call out, to ask for help. There's no helping him. He's accepted that, and he's accepted his crush on Steve.

But now, as Steve runs towards Eddie's lifeless body, we are back at square one. Denial.

[thatfeelinwhenyou]

i didn't want to bring this up on my page because i didn't want the negativity to affect my readers who are just here to have a good time. but awareness needs to be spread.

admist the chaos of sasaengs not knowing how to respect enhypen's space, i would like to reiterate that enhypen is not my, yours, or anybody's plaything. the audacity of some fans to think that sitting beside them on the plane, or calling them repeatedly over and over again at 2am will magically make them fall in love with you is crazy. get a grip. the boys are already enduring so so so much, heck we all know they have nothing but genuine love and respect for their fans. the least we can do as fans is to respect their basic human rights.

it irks me to my core to see every single fancall/fansign interaction to be along the lines of pretending they're your boyfriend. fym you want them to praise you like a dog? what good did you do anyway? have some fucking respect, not only for them but yourself. the lack of appreciation for enhypen as artists is unfathomable. its always about how handsome or boyfriend material they are but never how talented and amazing these seven boys are at what they do. it just never ceases to surprise me when people don’t talk about their artistry and stage presence. it's to the point other fandoms know them as the "fan service group". fuck. these boys are more than your vampire boyfriend… yes i write AUs but i don’t expect myself to be dating any of them?? if anyone doesn't agree with this (for some unworldly reason), feel free to unfollow me.

if you have time, i urge yall to go on the X. there's a bunch of xhs and weibo accounts that you can report for appalling sasaeng behaviour towards enhypen. enhypen support is also mass emailing belift to get their shit together, pls pls pls do so too if you're capable!

[strong-with-the-sarcasm]

Part 10- keep me from my grave

"Well, don't sing me praise. Just keep me from my grave." -Me Against the Devil by The Relentless

Main Masterlist Regent Series Part 9

They met at a bookstore. 

It had been almost two full months since the Joker had met his end, his head mounted and strangely not decomposed, with Jason returned to the Batfamily Gotham had settled into a lull. Not a quiet one, but a lull nonetheless. 

Jason was taking a break from sorting through cases with Dick, head throbbing from the lack of sleep and patience for annoying siblings wearing thin. 

The bookstore, tucked away in a quiet part of Old Gotham, was often empty of people during the day. Despite its large bay windows, comfy seating and welcoming atmosphere, the Page-Turner would remain a hidden gem to the city dwellers. For Jason, it was a haven he could never feel bad about keeping to himself. 

He’d branched out from classics some time ago, deciding to try other genres he’d long since ignored for the Bard, meandering around the shelves to find a title that caught his eye. 

It was between the mysteries and thrillers that he found her. 

Her. 

She was sitting on the ground with her back pressed against the thriller shelves, slender jean-clad legs tucked towards her chest to cradle a book, eyes never straying from the pages, red hair tied into a low ponytail with what looked like a small braid tucked behind one ear. Jason couldn’t tear his eyes away from her soft features, desperately wanting her eyes to meet his, her lips to offer him a smile and her hands to cradle his own.

 For the first time in his life, Jason finally understood what the regency novels meant by love at first sight… because the man was halfway there already. 

The Page Turner was a haven admist the chaos that was Jazz’s life, especially once she finally admitted to herself and Danny that she needed help to manage her depression. Her little brother was concerned, but also relieved when she confronted the elephant in the room first. He’d been weary of bringing it up himself, not wanting to worry her more. 

(Silly brother.)

(It was her job to worry.)

Nonetheless, Jazz asked around among the living and dead for a therapist recommendation, which she was correct about it being difficult in Gotham, but Jazz didn’t want to branch out just yet. A toss up between disbelief and enthusiasm awaited her, but she didn’t let it deter her from contacting the recommended psychologist- Harleen Quinzel. 

A bit awkward to be in a session with the reformed rogue, dutifully ignoring whatever lingering shades wanted her attention. Harley was a great listener, more importantly she cared about Jazz as a patient, as a human being. Whatever Bozo the Clown had done to her, what she had survived, had given Harley a new lease on life with his death (ironically). 

“It sounds like ya never been allowed to simply be, Jazz.” Harley spoke plainly and evenly, her brooklyn accent barely clipping her words. The redhead had spoken of her childhood, her brother’s death, the neglect.

Opened up about the nightmares, how Danny’s destroyed grave haunted her. Let the truth spill from her lips, free to simply exist in the space between the two women. Sure, Jazz would never spill secrets about the Realms, but where it concerned her guilt, or lack thereof, about the blood on her hands- yes, Jazz knew Harley wouldn’t judge her. 

And it was true, Jazz had no childhood. She was Danny’s caretaker, his first memory, his first steps towards, the first to have his back. There had never been just Jazz, only Jazz and Danny. Every dream she’d once had, broken and scattered in the ashes of Danny’s grave. 

(Danny had no hope of reaching the stars, of being an astronaut, with his death.)

“Sweetie, Danny sounds like he is capable of taking care of himself for a while. Have you considered finding a hobby?” Harley questioned, sincere in her wish to help. 

Jazz sighed, “I wouldn’t know where to begin.” What did she have outside her little brother and work as Regency? 

“Do ya like to read?” 

Jazz huffed, finding amusement with that question. Of course she liked, no, loved to read. It had been her one escape from the nightmares so long ago, but she hadn’t found the time since taking regency to lose herself in a good book. 

Harley didn’t need her to respond, offering a sincere smile in response to Jazz’s lack of reply. 

“There’s a bookstore in Old Gotham, the Page Turner, ya could check out? There’s no pressure to pick up a book, but it would be enough to just get through the door, yeah?” 

“I’ll try.” 

“That’s a good start.” 

As it was, Jazz wasn’t able to find time between Realms Work and patrol to do anything other than sleeping, eating, and various other tasks that filled her days (and nights). The more it itched at her, to listen to the therapist she liked, the more Jazz wanted to read a book. To get lost in a good story, just like she used to. 

Patrols were harder with Hood back, his haunt under his command once more and streets protected by a vigilante in red. Only twice in the few weeks since Jason had been moved from her side to the batcave had the Regent caught a glimpse of him, both as his nighttime persona, and from a distance Jazz hadn’t been able to sense him as clearly as previous. He did seem healthier with the pure ecto and his Proto-Core, though Jazz was in no mood to test her luck by crossing into his Haunt. 

The girls were sad to see the Regent less, even though Jazz remained firmly in the Phantom haunt and was barely a few minutes away at any given time, but it was the principle of the thing. The Regent was one of the good ones and a woman at that. A woman who could kick ass wasn’t rare, but it was rare that they would take up a vigilante role for the occupants of the Alley. 

Red Hood, while awesome and respected by his people, was a man. 

Some of the girls were gradually drifting into the Phantom haunt, or a shitty part of Old Gotham that bordered on the Alley. Regardless of it’s quality it belonged to the Phantom Fraid… and Phantom was a Protector Spirit. 

(With the Regent and the Phantom, crime was all but extinct in their haunt.)

With the decrease in crime, Jazz was finally able to dematrilize her armor, set down her sword and enter the Page Turner. 

A distinct mix of old books, ink, and some kind of body spray welcomed the redhead once she stepped inside, intrigued by the sense of calm that greeted her in place of a human. 

Which was fine, Jazz preferred to browse in peace. 

Grateful for the shelves being categorized, Jazz found herself enthralled by a thriller (They Never Learn by Layne Fargo) and didn’t notice another person in the aisle until they were within arm’s reach. 

Jazz flinched back, embarrassed by her lack of focus and attention to her surroundings, dangerous when one is a vigilante in Gotham. She greeted the man in front of her after a few moments of awkward silence, his stare making the redhead even more embarrassed, but now by her appearance. She'd been too tired to fuss with her hair or clothes beyond ensuring the orange-red strands were brushed into a semblance of order and her clothes were somewhat decent. 

(Jazz was more concerned with her bracelets being concealed under glamour and sleeves.)

(The metal, eternally cool against her warm skin, offered some comfort in times like these.)

(She was the Lady of the Acropolis, once student of Pandora, the Ancient of Peace.) 

(There is nothing that can make her feel lesser without her consent.) 

“Uh, hi.” 

(Oh how eloquent, Jasmine.) 

“Hi.” The deep voice, smooth and accented like a native Gotham, made Jazz finally move her gaze from his chest- nice chest as it was, it was his eyes that made her breath rush from her lungs. 

Jason. 

.....Jason!

(Oh yes, Jazz picked a good day to walk into the Page Turner.) 

(She was finally able to talk to her dream man.)

(She wasn’t disappointed.) 

(And by the smiles they had as walked away, neither was Jason.) 

A/N:

This isn't the best, I know. Hey, they finally meet! Keep an eye for the updated masterlist, because I'll be putting the link up and changing some of the chapter titles. Thanks for reading!

Update: “They Never Learn” by Layne Fargo is an actual book, with a female Anti-Hero who kills bad men. I don’t want to say more because I’ll spoil something, but it’s a great book.

[shleepyissleepy]

When Sweet Meets Savory

Alastor/GN!Reader

Prolouge

Content warnings: Vague depictions of violence and death.

Notes: Descriptions, name, and gender of the reader is left alone.

___________________________________________

Dropping ass first into hell wasn't exactly on today's to-do list. The last thing you remember upon waking up in the middle of a bustling, critter ridden city was that you had just gone out for your morning stroll. It was quiet out. The fog had just begun to settle in, and it seemed that the day was due for a little rain. You had plans to go shopping, tidy up your quaint little apartment, and get some chores done. Perhaps read a book or two while your record player sang sweet melodies. Yes, a peaceful, productive day was in the works, well that was, until you decided to take a detour through the trail just short of less than a mile it'd take otherwise to get to the convenience store.

Something felt incredibly off. Entering the forest opening were the trail began, and stepping past the overgrowth of weeds and roots, it was clear this area of the neighborhood didn't get many guests. Normally, it's a smooth sailing walk, besides tripping over a couple of rocks and roots, that takes less than 10 minutes to walk through fully. However, today, it seemed you had a plus one. Someone had followed you into the trail, judging by the crackling footsteps behind you. Part of you assumed they just happened to be going the same way you were, but it just felt... wrong.

Anxiety started bubbling up in the pit of your stomach. Of course, you must be overreacting, but it couldn't hurt to pick up the pace a bit. Bad move. Immediately, the steps behind you move faster, and out of reflex, you do as well, sending you to full-on sprint. Slapping branches out of your way and jumping over protruding mounds of dirt at the speed you were going, mixed with the ever-growing fear as agitated grunting and heavy steps close in behind you causes you to hyperventilate. You didn't even make it halfway through the trail when the perpetrator caught up to you, tackling and pinning you down. You wondered if anyone heard your screams, or if anyone found your mutilated body.

Well anywho, that's how you found yourself here, admist the chaos of a crimson city. Honestly, you expected more fire and pitchforks. Adapting to your new environment took some time, well okay, a lot of time. Eventually, when you stumbled upon your reflection for the first time, you had audibly yelled in shock and fell on your ass. If you had a nickle for everytime that's happened since you got here you'd have two, which is not a lot but it's funny that it happened twice. Finding somewhere to settle proved extremely difficult given the fact that it was hell and everything came with a price, whether it be in the form of an "act of service", to giving up your mortal soul... and an absurd amount of money, of course. Which was why you eventually found yourself standing at the ominous front entrance of the comically infamous in completely bombing, Hazbin Hotel.

A place meant to house and redeem sinners. To be completely honest, you knew exactly why you were here in hell, however you were not very keen on sharing that information. But maybe if you could waltz in, and give a good enough introduction to apply for a job here, you may also get to have a decent roof over your head. Now the only issue with this little plan, was that there was literally no job openings that you knew of listed here, so you had to come up with... well something. Maybe coming here on a whim was a terrible idea, or it might just be the best decision you'll ever make in your undead life. You'll never know until you open those doors.

With a sigh and somewhat confidant stance, you push open the double doors, reveling in the crimson golden glow of the hotel. Immediately you find yourself in the lobby with pointedly no check in desk. Clasping your hands behind your back, you survey the interior and notice a bar to the left of you. A cat like demon with wings is behind the bar cleaning a glass, and actively avoiding to look in your general direction, but he definitely knows you're there. Just before you can finish examining your surroundings, a cheery voice booms infront of you.

"Hellooo!" You stumble back, eyes wide like a deer caught in headlights. A young woman in a red suit stands before you and practically touching noses with you seconds prior.

"Oh my gosh I'm sososo sorry I didn't mean to spook you, I'm just so excited to see a new guest!" Her voice trails off in a giddy nature, her heels rocking lightly. Finally you begin to process that the princess of hell, Charlie Morningstar, is in front of you. Which of course you expected, but not quite imagining it like this. Releasing the tension in you posture you hold out a hand to shake, introducing yourself. She practically shakes your arm off.

"It's so nice to meet you, I'm Charlie Morningstar- ah, but you can just call me Charlie..." backing away with a spin, her arms reaching out beside her in a grand display.

"Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel~!" She ends of with a sing song tune to her voice.

"Ah, it's nice to meet you as well...uhm but I'm here looking to be a guest, per say." Shit. You really didn't think this through. Also "per say"? Who says that??? Charlie laughs faintly, closing the distance once again to hold one of yoy hands in hers in a polite sort of fashion.

"Ah nonsense. Everyone is a guest here!" She tugs your hand gently but with purpose, guiding you towards the bar.

"C'mon lemme show you around, this is the baarr and the bar tenderrr.~" The demon behind the bar finally shoots you a non-committal glance before going back to scrubbing a... completely clean glass... yeeahhh. You give him a polite wave regardless and move on.

Over the course of the next thirty minutes, Charlie gives you a tour around the hotel. You couldn't help but feel charmed by her excited nature. She gushed on and on about the hotel and its goals, she seemed really committed to this place, you could practically see the sparkle in her eyes. Eventually, she got to asking you about what brings you to the hotel, your goals and such. Welp, time to bullshit something!

"Well you see, I'm here on business. I see your vision of redeeming souls, and I have an offer for you, if you're interested." Please almighty Lucifer be interested. She urges you to continue.

"I have a wonderful idea that could add some frosting to the cake, if you will. To your lessons and exercises. How do you feel about opening a library?" An awkward pause floats in the air. Charlie cocks her head slightly as she feigned a smile.

"Ah... a library?" You pat the air with your hands to wave away the tension. Internally screaming at the single braincell in your head to come up with something.

"Let me elaborate." Clearing your throat, you straighten your posture. A shiver runs down your back, and there's a dry spot in your throat. Time to make the pitch.

"With a library, guests can find themselves a quiet escape, something healthy and stimulating. Not only that, but you could utilize a library for writing and reading exercises. What's a better way to connect with people and to express yourself? I can offer poetry and calligraphy lessons, teach others to write about their experiences and through this medium, perhaps there would be a better chance to really help sinners along the way to redemption!" Slightly out of breath, you finish off with your best award winning smile. Most of that was just complete bullshitting out of your ass, but there was some truth to it. You always found comfort in setting like a library, or a cozy cafe in the hidden nook of a shopping center. Reading and writing has been proven to be therapeutic and a good medium for expressing yourself. Letting the mind wander and letting your imagination take hold of a pen- you're losing focus.

Your eyes snap back to Charlie from where they had trailed off, she stares back wide eyed. Worried you may have offended her for even pitching this ridiculous idea, you began to apologize. However you were interrupted by her grabbing your shoulders. She stood on the very tips of her toes and gleamed.

"That. is. a. WONDERFUL IDEA!" She spins you around for a moment before gushing further about all the new ideas she has for lesson plans and exercises.

After a while of banter back and forth, you were surprised and relieved to hear that you got the job. Not only that, but you were extatic to hear that you would be receiving your own room. Score! This is exactly what you needed. Now the only issue was the fact that the hotel... did not have anywhere to put a library, but that can be arranged! Charlie said she knew the perfect person for the job...

...and that was when you immediately regretted your decisions.

[slimeylee]

fic prompt in the replies of this post !

first helluva boss fic . ive been very fixated on it recently :3

also inspired by season 2 episode 6 !

* swear warning , tickling .. idk what else

switch ! fizzarolli (he / him ) , switch ! blitzø ( he / him )

__

Fizzarolli enjoyed the fresh morning smell of fire in Hell as he zoomed through the town on his Heelys. He leaned back and relaxed as he was dragged quickly down the sidewalk by his dogs, on his way to his concert rehearsal with Mammon.

Suddenly, the silence was interrupted.

"LOOK, LADY, IT'S NOT MY FAULT IF YOU ONLY KNOW HOW TO MAKE COFFEE THAT TASTES LIKE PISS!" Blitzø yelled, getting thrown out of a coffee shop. He sat up on the sidewalk.

Fizzarolli's eyes widened as he grew near to running Blitzø over, calling out a whistle.

"Woah, woah, woah, woah, WOAH-" Blitzø yelped, bringing up his arm as Fizz and his dogs screeched to a stop.

He looked down at the group of dogs, and Fizz stood with a smirk. "Oh, wow, lookie who it is!" Blitzø's facial expression immediately changed once Fizzarolli began.

"Oh, fuuck.. you again." Blitzø groaned in annoyance, adjusting his sitting position on the sidewalk. "Stalkin' me now, huh?" Fizz grinned widely.

Blitzo stood up from the ground, crossing his arms. "Oh, don't fuckin' flatter yourself, clown. I have my own life, you know; WITHOUT you in it." He stepped closer to Fizz.

"And gee whiz! We've been in each others relative vicinity TWICE in the last FIFTEEN YEARS, that would make me THE SHITTIEST STALKER IN HISTORY!" Blitzø announced, putting his hands on his hips. Fizzarolli had gotten down on the ground, petting one of his dogs.

"Uh-huh! Sure... Blitzo." Fizz teased, crossing his arms now. Blitzø grit his teeth. "The O is silent now, bitch." He poked Fizz in the shoulder, which he then brushed off.

"Twice," Fizz said, slowly raising from the ground and stepping closer to Blitzø. "is already way too much." He said with a large grin, pushing Blitzø out of the way.

"Yeah, well at least I'm still actually working for my shit, and not getting everything handed to me like some pampered attention whore!" Blitzø gestured as he spoke, Fizz walking away while he stepped along.

Blitzø begun walking away as Fizzarolli snarled, but then he looked down at his hand. He then remembered Ozzie, and what he was on his way to do.

"Yeah, well, guess that's what resilience and talent gets ya," Fizz chuckled, turning around. "Plus, my horns were always bigger than yours,"

"Weren't they?"

He picked up his sunglasses, glaring at Blitzø with a smirk. Fizz turned around again to leave, but he was caught off guard when he heard Blitzø running up behind him.

"WhaAAA-" Fizz yelped as Blitzø tackled him to the ground. "You fucking bitch!" Blitzø growled, wrestling Fizzarolli on the ground as the clown attempted to get up. "Get the fuck off me!" Fizz yelled, pushing at Blitzø's wrists.

The two of them suddenly flipped over and Fizz struggled to get Blitzø to the ground. Admist the chaos, Fizz accidentally poked his side. He, and even Blitzø was surprised to hear the squawk that he had let out.

"...What the fuck was that?" Fizz smirked. "Nothing!" Blitzø immediately went back to shoving at Fizz, to which he fought back by poking Blitzø's side again.

"Are you ticklish, Blitzo? What a discovery. I would've thought you'd grown out of this by now." Fizz teased with a large grin. "Oh, fuck no, don't you dare, you fuckin' dipshiIIIIT-!" Blitzø jumped with a squeal as Fizz quickly scribbled his fingers into his side for a few seconds. "Ohohoho! I did think we were gonna fight, but this is even better!" Fizz exclaimed.

"Get the FUCK off of MEHEE!" Blitzø squealed as Fizz tased his sides again. "Stohop doing that, dipshit!" Blitzø said, bringing up his arms from their place on the ground and fighting Fizz back with a squeeze to his side.

"OH, FUCK-" Fizz jumped, nearly totally caught off guard by that. Blitzø sat up, jumping at Fizz and scribbling between his ribs. "SHIHIT!-" Fizz cackled. "Oh wow, Fizz, thought you would've grown out of this by noHOHOW-" Blitzø had taken the opportunity to tease back, laughing out suddenly as Fizz poked him in the side. "Yohou think you're a funny guy, huh?" Blitzø asked him, a small smirk on his face.

"Ihi doHOO- FUHAHACK!" Fizz squealed as Blitzø scribbled into his stomach, squeezing his side a few times inbetween as he cackled. "Yeah, tickle tickle, fuckin' bitch." Blitzø said with sarcasm, a wide grin on his face as he moved back up to Fizz's ribs.

Fizz suddenly came up with an idea. He extended his left arm out and behind Blitzø.

"What are you-" He began, stopping and looking behind him. He jumped with a yelp as Fizz's right hand wiggled into his side. "FuHUHUCK-" Blitzo cackled. He reached out for Fizz's stomach, but Fizz used his left hand to grab Blitzø's.

"You're a fuhuhucking cheheater!" Blitzø yelped, reaching out his other hand. Fizz curled away from Blitzø, smirking. "Oh, no, you don't!" Fizz suddenly moved both of his hands to attack Blitzø, wiggling his fingers into his stomach and sides.

"SHIHIT!" Blitzo cackled, grabbing Fizz's wrists and lunging toward him. "Yohohou're going fucking dohown, bitch!" He exclaimed, his fingers drilled into Fizz's hips as he bounced up with a shriek. "NOHOHO!" The two continued their fighting for a little bit.

Fizzarolli scribbled into Blitzø's sides and Blitzø scratched into Fizz's hips. The two sat up, continuing their tickle quarrel.

They both had let out surprised gasps as they suddenly were lassoed, and flung upwards into a random building.

They were slammed against a wall and heard the word, "Hired," before looking up. It was Striker, and Moxxie's dad.

Well, shit... Now they were in trouble.

__

[cauldronlakefiles]

Alan Wake and The Implications™️ of Gnosticism as told by Carl Jung (1916)

So in AW2 NG+, there is a new video called "Spiral," where he ruminates on the implications of what the Spiral could mean (spoilers below, and a very long post ahead)!

"There are loops beyond these loops. Vast, complex super structures. Beyond what's happening to me now, ahead of me. And I'm there as well. A version of me, something I have become- some elevated, enlightened version- an archon, a demiurge, a demon of some sort- playing a secret game."

Now this is veeeery interesting to me. 

In the Gnostic religion, The Demiurge (literally "artisan" in Greek) is described as a creator of the material world. He is the God of the world, but not the God of the universe. Think Cronus or Odin, under Uranus and Burí. The Demiurge cannot create something out of nothing. He takes matter, already existent and created by the upper god, and turns it into our world, though it comes out imperfect due to the matter being imperfect. 

Then, we have another Greek word admist his monologue: the "archon." The archon is Greek for "ruler" but in Gnosticism, it is the builder(s) of the universe, composed of a team. There's usually seven, and each one rules a planet.

And finally, the demon. That's self-explanatory. In Gnosticism, the definition is interchangeable with the Archons. The Archons are demons and the demons are Archons. Yes, this is relevant.

What I find interesting is the intersection where these definitions meet, the center of the Venn diagram. The Demiurge, the Archon, and the Demon is Yaldabaoth, The Son of Chaos and The Prince of Darkness. He is also known in some iterations as Samael, the Angel of Death, and is primarily viewed as the precursor to our modern day Satan, as well as the Gnostic equivalent to Seth, Saturnus/Cronus, and Typhon. He is described as having a face made of "half flame, half darkness, defiled with blood." 

If you ask what his morality is, you will spur a fishtfight among the occult (as I found out by perusing the various forums and subs). He is generally considered evil or amoral, but he used to be depicted as a genuinely "good" God. He is usually described as arrogant, a "fiery nature," ignorant of higher powers and jealous of other gods. 

Now, Jung further developed his idea of the Demiurge and Archon and Demon from Yaldabaoth, giving him the name of Abraxas, as taught by Basilides. Little is known about Abraxas, as the sources beyond Jung are scarce, though his name dates back to the ancient Greeks. The church burned much of the text that held his name. The Catholic Church outright banned him for being a pagan God and a demon. He is the God of time, and is more powerful and more dualistic than the aforementioned Yaldabaoth (both morally and figuratively) . He was a prominent figure in his book, *Seven Sermons to the Dead,* where he had this to say about him:

"That which is spoken by God-the-Sun is life; that which is spoken by the Devil is death; Abraxas speaketh that hallowed and accursed word, which is life and death at the same time. Abraxas begetteth truth and lying, good and evil, light and darkness in the same word and in the same act. . . He is the God of the cosmos, extremely powerful and fearful. He is the creative drive, he is form and formation, just as much as matter and force, therefore he is above all the light and dark Gods. He tears away souls and casts them into procreation. He is the creative and created. . . His power is the very greatest, because man does not perceive it at all. He is magnificent even as the lion at the very moment when he strikes his prey down. His beauty is like the beauty of a spring morn. To see him means blindness; To know him is sickness; To worship him is death; To fear him is wisdom; Not to resist him means liberation … Such is the terrible Abraxas … He is both the radiance and the dark shadow of man. He is deceitful reality."

Abraxas is duality, the God and the Devil combined in one. He is the beginning and the end. The first word and the last.

Anyway, we reach the part where he has successfully Ascended. He pronounces himself the "Master of Many Worlds." He becomes, in this sense, an "archon, a demiurge, a demon," and I can only imagine what that entails. Talk about a character arc! 

[everythingne]

out of the woods - ls2 [2]

With a home race that couldn't go better, Dhanishka feels the confidence to let loose. But, Bahrain's post race celebration brings up some confusing feelings Dhanishka definitely won't handle the best. Charles plays the disappointed older brother role very well, Daniel is a bit of an enabler as is Lando, who also wins a bet with McLaren. Also, the FIA makes a weird call.

logan sargeant x ferrari!ex!oc

fc: iffat marash (and other pinterest girlies)

warnings/notes: mentions of past car accidents, drunkeness, a makeout scene, tbh if logan looked at me the way i describe here i would fold oops. conflicting feelings here for miss dubey

(part one) (part three)

Bahrain hasn't even started, my home race hasn't even started, and I already feel like I'm about to snap. I knew coming into this race there was a lot of pressure on me to do well, not to mention how basically everyone I knew and their fucking mother was here, but from Ferrari alone. This was the season they planned to solidify Charles and I next to Red Bull. They'd been secretive about their car, their plans, and whatever, just to hopefully psyche out the other teams.

Personally, I just wanted to win for myself, but thats a whole other story.

When I walk in the race, cameras are on me faster than I can say my name, thousands of eyes watching the only rookie this season as she makes her way into her paddock. Inside the paddock is no better, and the garage can't even be a safe haven as reporters walking the pit lane try to get video of me and Charles greeting eachother.

He's like a bright red beacon of safety admist the chaos of this morning. He hands me a coffee, says it's supposed to be some sort of weird chai thing. It tastes... like slightly more bitter and heavily espresso filled chai. But I drink it anyway because lord knows I need the energy.

"You look stressed, is it the race?" Charles asks after our debriefing, when I'm working on reaction times. I keep working at whacking the buttons, eyes trained on the center as I also work my periphery.

"I think so." I say, uninterested, and Charles purposefully messes up the game so I look at him with a loud exclamation. He grins, and I get now why Arthur had punched Charles in the arm as a greeting once. He looks like a cat that knows it's done something wrong, but smugly doesn't care. Like my aunt's big brown cat named Porsche.

They'd bought her a 'Porsche' for her birthday that year. Haha.

"What's it actually?" Charles asks when I catch my breath a little, taking a big gulp of water and then sipping on the coffee-chai-thing.

"I talked to Logan after we left the resturant and I can't stop thinking about it." I set down the cup and go to return to the game before Charles grabs my wrist and pulls me back.

"Do you wanna talk about it before the race? Maybe get it out of your system so it doesn't affect you while driving?"

"You're talking like you speak from experience."

"Maybe I do." He hums and I huff through my nose, before grabbing both of my drinks when he nods his head back to his drivers room. Probably the only place here we could get privacy. He pops me down on his couch and sits next to me, motioning for me to talk.

I stammer a bit before sighing, “Logan still thinks it’s my fault. He still thinks I had something to do with the accident. And I’m a fucking idiot because I still love him.”

Charles’ eyes widen as I lean forward and huff, rubbing my forehead as I keep talking, “I still love him after three years. And he doesn’t love me back and that hurts but I can’t do anything about it.”

"you still love him?" He asks and I nod, and then hitch forward with a sharp gasp. It's like saying the words out loud have thrown every possible emotion in my face. Anger at him for breaking up, regret for not chasing him, a deep sorrow for the things we'd lost. He had been my first love, something so innocent. I didn't know how I was supposed to live without him.

"I do," I whisper through the lump in my throat, "I love him, but I can't even look at him without feeling sick."

For once with all the issues I've come to tell Charles about, this is one that stumps him. But he wraps an arm around me, pulling him to his side as he rubs his hand along my back and I curl into his touch. I don't exactly cry, but I more so just hyperventilate.

And it takes maybe ten minutes for me to calm down fully and when I do, Charles squeezes my hands.

"No matter what happens, I've got you." He says softly, "just like at dinner, I've got you."

I nod and he hands me a tissue, I fix up my makeup and stand, letting him escort me back out to the garage so we can go get out fireproofs and race suits.

The sun is long set when we start the race, the warm up lap making my nerves spark as my fingers twitch on the steering wheel. I knew Bahrain's track like the backs of my hands, I knew exactly what to expect and what to do and where to go. Starting p8 wasn't terrible, I would've preferred to be higher but I'll take what I can get. In front of me is Yuki, Carlos, Daniel, Charles, Oscar, Lando, and Max. With Logan directly behind me and Alex behind him.

I'm not super worried about Alex, but Logan had a pretty similar driving style to me so I worry about him coming and overtaking me. I know I can overtake Yuki, Carlos, and Daniel if I give myself time and risk going wide when it comes to Carlos, but Lando, Oscar and Max will be my biggest competition. Though I'm not sure about Charles, I guess it depends on what we're told on the radio.

Within the first five laps, I've gotten past Yuki and Carlos, but Daniel's giving me a run for my money. Charles even tries helping, but it's no use, and I take my place behind Daniel for the foreseeable future. I don't mind it, holding P6 at the beginning isn't the worst scenario. I just have to wait until people starting going in for tire changes and such, hopefully I'll be able to use that to get around.

Eventually, Daniel understeers and it gives me a perfect opportunity to whip around him and I solidify myself in P5. Oscar's ahead of me, Lando ahead of him, Charles in P2 and then Max holds P1. Charles is fighting him for it and I'm impressed with how we're doing so far.

At some point Logan comes up behind me, I'm only alerted via the radio for half a second before I see him try and push me to the edge of the track. I speed up, purposefully oversteering the turn to knock him off my back.

By the end of the race, I find myself P3 by a goddamn thread. Lando having wing damage making it easier for me to snag around him in one of the last turns. Charles isn't far ahead of me, and Max holds his P1 usual. Lando's P4, Oscar P5, and Logan P6. Everyone else is pretty much scrambled, almost all the racers overtaking someone multiple times throughout the race.

I can't really feel anything under the thrum of my excitement, Charles coming up behind me and lifting me off the ground in celebration as Max laughs from a distance. We're making our way to the stage for the podium, helmets off and a hat secured over my head to block out the sun and my post-race helmet hair.

"Lets go! 'Ishka!" Charles jumps and I laugh, whacking him on the head as he hoists me in the air.

"Congrats, kid." Max grabs the brim of my hat and yanks it down, making me yelp in surprise as Charles sets me down. I fix the brim of my hat while Charles laughs, trying to help me yank down Max's hat too before I'm called to walk up on stage.

The roar of the audience is deafening, the announcement a warble as I take the trophy with a thank you and shook the hand of the woman who gave it to me. I lift it above my head, the noise only growing, and I can't help the satisfied shout that leaves my throat in celebration.

Dipping back into the paddock, I see Logan being ushered away from me by Alex. Even though the sight of him makes my throat close and stomach drop, I try to keep my head up. I try to not let it affect me, but I know it does.

I told Logan the truth. I let him him go because he wanted to go. Nothing Logan did now would change the way my heart ached for him. In F2 I learned quickly to shove my emotions down and never let them escape me, and when I wasn't in the safety of Charles' company, I felt like I had fallen back into that same routine again.

Cold, sharper than a tack, everything rolled right off. I bit my tongue when necessary, fought back only when provoked.

It was nothing like how I had been before Trident. That much was known. But I wasn't about to be used again. Never again.

A few hours later, we're at the hotel Charles is staying in, him laying face first on his bed while I fix up my makeup in a mirror for the upteenth time. Another night out is in order to celebrate the season kickoff, Max inviting Charles and I along with him, Daniel, and Carlos to some sort club I've been to a hundred times already.

Once I've used Charles' bathroom to change into my clothes for the night, I'm wrapping a large Ferrari jacket around myself to be a bit more 'presentable' until we get to the club. I lean into the mirror to check and secure all my jewlery before I make my way out of the bathroom.

Charles looks up from where he's sitting in one of the chairs in the hotel room, his eyes doing a quick once over before he grins and stands up. He's wearing some jeans and a loose black button-up, a gold necklace swinging before settling against his collarbones as he makes his way to my side.

"Revenge dress?" He muses to me with a smirk and I whack his arm with a loud laugh, shaking my head as I walk to grab my purse off the coffee table.

"It wasn't intended to be, but sure." I grin as I take a sip from my wine glass on the table, eyeing the now empty bottle we were using to loosely pregame the night, "Glad to see you've gotten a bit of fashion advice, the polo looks good. If Max is wearing anything Red Bull I'll choke him out."

"I'll help you." Charles laughed and hands me his wallet. I pop it in my purse without thinking, I know it's so I don't run off without him, and I pretend to be annoyed. But the action is sweet.

"We have a little private room with some of the other drivers," Charles grabs our phones off the charges and hands me mine as he pockets his, fixes his hair in some sort of habit, and then looks back to me as he grabs the handle of the door, "So, you can leave your stuff there until we leave."

"Sounds good to me." I follow him out the door, my heels clicking on the tile on the hallway as we move down to where the carpet starts. Charles turns back to me as he walks, watching me dig out my car keys. When I lift my eyes to meet him he scratches his jaw and then speaks.

"Logan's gonna be there. That's fine with you?" Charles asks. I had told him in the garage this morning about my argument with Logan. It had been eating at me, and Charles being ever the observant picked up on my shift in attitude before I did.

"I probably won't even see him, this club is always packed." I reason, even with the private room. I'd spend most of my time at the bar. If I was with my friends, also the dancefloor, but I had a suspicion I wouldn't be doing much dancing tonight.

"You sure?" Charles holds the elevator door open for me, letting me step in and press the button for the lobby. I nod, adjusting my outfit a little bit as I look over at him.

"It's fine, I'm over it." I shrug, looking at myself in the mirrored doors of the elevator and fixing up my hair loosely. I can feel the elevator slowly start to lower and I grin at myself.

Maybe it was the confidence from my win, but I looked good tonight.

"You cried over him this morning and now you're saying you're over it?" Charles hums, thinking back clearly to me frustrated for no reason this morning and his intervention with led to me half-hyperventilating into his chest.

"I got P3 in my first F1 race, Charles. No one can touch me. I'm hot, sexy, and breaking the Ferrari curse." I playfully do a little z-snap that has Charles chuckling as the doors open to the lobby and he brings me out to an awaiting car. This was something else I would never get used to, how we all just kinda casually had luxury vehicles. Now, my parents were well off, my father a CEO and my mother a tailor, and they had plenty of money to give to me and my sister if we needed it. But it hadn't always been that way. So the Ferrari just idling outside the hotel, clearly brought over by Ferrari for Charles and I to drive like once this whole weekend is a shock to me.

He lets me in the back, then gets in the passengers, instructing the driver on where to go while I lean back with a content sigh and watch the streetlights pass.

dhanishkadubey made a new post!

liked by logansargeant, oscarpiastri, charlesleclerc, and 254k others...

dhanishkadubey: kicking off the start of a wonderful szn. much love to the tifosi 🏎️ ❤️ (📷: @ charlesleclerc)

charlesleclerc: ❤️

danielricciardo: this bitch drinks fireball like water.

dhanishkadubey: ur rlly exposing me like this danny :(?

user1: congrats on p3!!!

oscarpiastri: go dhanishka go !!

user2: tensions rising in the loscar fandom tn

maxverstappen: great start to your rookie year, dhanishka :)

anyadubey: YAAA THATS MY SEXY SISTER!!!

user3: actually in love w her.

When we arrive at the club, the place is already going hard. Early 2000s music pulses from various speakers, the lights flashing to the beat of who I think is Britney Spears mixed with that one song from Saltburn. It's Daniel who greets us in the upstairs room, showing me where to leave my bag and jacket while Charles is escorted off to the side by Pierre and Max. I spot Esteban and Lance chatting idly with Magnussen and some other racers. It's odd combinations tonight, as the grouping strays from the normal clumps of friends, but it means I find myself engrossed in a conversation with Alex and George maybe thirty minutes after getting inside.

"I seriously thought you were gonna be much meaner!" George shouts over the pulsing music and I laugh as he hands me my drink from the bartender. I thank him softly and take a big sip, nodding at the sour taste im expecting from the cocktail.

Catching George's eye, I tease, "Do you want me to be?"

"God no," George waves a hand in my direction with a soft laugh, something playful and almost childlike gleaming in his eyes as he tilts his head, "Carmen's plenty mean to me."

"Oh stop!" Alex scoffs, whacking George's arm, "As if Carmen's little jabs equate to Lily's!"

"Didn't you literally call Lily the doll from Squid Game?" I ask, then pop my straw in my mouth and take a slow sip. Alex freezes as if he's been caught red handed, and George suppresses a giggle.

"Look..." Alex holds up a hand in defense but George and I are laughing too hard to really hear whatever excuse he uses to defend his actions.

"Okay, can I ask you a question, Dhanishka?" Alex asks after we've calmed down, leaning forward on the bar as I settle in my seat with George on my other side. I nod and he swallows and I can see him roll the question through his head. He takes a sip of his drink, swallows, and turns to ask, "If you wanna answer, what exactly happened with you and Logan? 'Cause he's been moping since you got announced to be racing with Ferrari and I might lose my mind if he doesn't knock it off."

"Oh god," I say into my midori sour, taking the bitter drink into my mouth and swallowing it and setting my hand over the cup. George leans over to look, head slightly tilted like a puppy as Alex quickly speaks up.

"If you don't wanna say anything, it's fine, but--"

"--No, no. It's fine Alex," I wave a hand, "uhm, Logan and I started dating when we were racing in Renault, but we'd been kinda... I guess flirty since the end of our formative years and into like secondary school. We were... I was fifteen, so he was seventeen or sixteen at the time? It was just like... puppy love, y'know? Pure and innocent, nothing too serious.

"And, we were both in love and it was nice. It really was nice. But, when that crash happened with Trident, I think something snapped in him. I... the breakup... it came from nowhere. I don't know if it was because he was mad, thinking I had something to do with it, or if he just... didn't know what to do and needed control after Trident took that P2 position from him? I don't know. We hadn't spoken since that day until last night."

"You talked to him last night?" Alex asks with slightly wide eyes and I nod, taking another sip of my drink.

"We argued about it last night while waiting to leave." I sigh, rolling my shoulders as I pop the straw between my lips and take a long slow sip, then speak, "He thought I had something to do with the crash, I told him I didn't, he asked me why I let him leave--which, Alex, feel free to tell him I think that's a dumb fucking question. I wasn't gonna force him to stay if he was unhappy, or if he didn't wanna date anymore. I'm not a monster."

"Wait, wait," George waves a hand to grab my attention and I turn to him with a soft hum, "So is he mad at you?"

"I don't know," I finish off my drink, noticing both George and Alex are not even halfway down their respective drinks, "I can't tell with him. I would completely understand if he was furious about everything, but none of it was my fault. I didn't even know Trident planned to crash into him!"

"I'm gonna try talking to him," Alex looks over at someone to the right of me and I don't have to look to know he means Logan's there. I nod, sip my drink, and excuse myself to go back to the room. George escorts me up there, to make sure I'm fine, and then leaves me to Daniel who grins.

"You've had something to drink, right?" He asks and I nod, but happily join him and Lando at the bar for shots of various alcohols. And I end up drinking a few glasses of soju back to back with Max at one point, introducing him and Checo to different flavors while Daniel laughs at Max's shock over how everything just tastes like a slightly sour juice. I'm finishing my fourth glass of soju when I start to feel woozy. Taking a water from the bartender, I count the drinks I've had in my head and roughly equate them to about a handle of alcohol.

Lando orders a final round of shots for us, Fireball burning down my throat.

"Danny!" I call to the Australian, who turns in a full circle before realizing wher eI am. He nods and steps closer so I don't have to shout.

"The bathrooms right there," I point to a hallway and Daniel nods, "Can you grab my stuff and I'll meet you guys by the door?"

"Yeah, just be quick! Text me if you need anything." He squeezes my wrist and I nod, slipping away and down the stairs that lead tot he dark bathrooms. Once I'm done, I step out into the hall looking down at my phone when I slip on water pooled by the door. Or what I hope is water.

A hand juts out, catching me by the waist and tugging me forward so I'm no longer falling backwards. The firm hand is familiar, and when I glance up to thank the man who caught me I make eye contact with Logan. I resist the urge to make some rude comment and thank him softly instead.

"Are you gonna tell everyone about us dating?" He asks instead and I scoff.

"Are you gonna start a fight every time I see you?" I rebuke, and then shrug, "Alex and George asked. And if I said no, they could just look it up. I didn't say any apecifics, just the bulk."

Logan looks a little relieved at that, almost like he was nervous about their reactions if they knew every little thing that we'd done. Truth be told, puppy love was the best way to describe us back then. Stolen chaste kisses, giddy smiles when holding hands, little meaningful gifts, late night texts that led to sleepy smiles the next day. I was sure he'd had something more... mature after he'd broken it off. I had rationalized in my head that was why he broke it off. I'd never know the real reason, I wasn't going to ask.

"You..." Logan finally lets go of my waist, and in the low light I see his eyes sweep over me with a look I want to decipher. I've lost the key to his brain, and I know I won't be finding it any time soon.

"You look as beautiful as the day I left you, more so now... but," He laughs, shaking his head, "Sorry, I had too much to drink. I shouldn't."

"You shouldn't." I agree, but a tiny smile curls at my lips, "But thank you."

Logan looks at me for a long moment and I return the gaze, our eyes spelling out stories of his hands carding through my hair, laying on a blanket on the roof of his London apartment and listening to music in shared earbuds, us cheering on Oscar when he'd asked Lily out and celebrating with him after.

He was so much of my past, and somehow I found that I wished he could fit into my future.

"Can I ask one thing?" Logan says, the music pulsing above us louder now, making his voice get swallowed by the music. I step closer to hear him as I nod, throat dry as trepidation rolls across my skin, his lips part, and it takes a second for him to ask, "Can we not fight? I don't think I can ever see you look angry at me again, I've been replaying our argument outside the restaurant for days now.

"I don't wanna leave our past behind us and move on," He continues when I gape at him, "I loved you back then, maybe I still do now or maybe its the fact I'm so drunk the world is spinning, but you were such a big piece of my life. I've known you since we were kids, Dhanishka I can't let go of you now that I've got you back."

His heart is being held out for me, hands shaking as he stares at me, and I just stare back. Just friends, I tell myself. That's all we'll be.

"You know," I start, and I can feel its my heart and blood alcohol content leading the conversation and not my brain, "I do think I still love you--or maybe its the fact I'm just as drunk as you are, if not worse. You made my life, you made me who I am, from the stupid jokes to the little kisses behind our garages, or sneaking into eachother drivers rooms to nap..."

I swallow my pride, "I won't let go of you this time."

He grins and on wobbly legs he takes me into a hug, I let his arms wrap around my waist, hands warm against my skin as I throw my arms around his neck. The stairs squeak behind us, and we step back, but I don't see anyone come down. When I turn back to him, I find he's still looking, and as the music shakes the walls and rolls into my skin, I find one of my hands cupping his jaw. His breath cuts short, lips parting as his tongue darts out.

It's so dumb how easily I fall back in love with Logan Sargeant.

He dips down before I can think to pull back, slotting his lips against mine, and I welcome it. His grip on me tightens as he tugs me back in, bunching fabric under his fingernails as he gasps when I nip his lip.

"We shouldn't do this." He gasps between a kiss he drives, only to be cut off by me stepping closer to keep our lips dancing. He turns us, pressing my shoulders to a wall, cornering me underneath him, and I bite back a whine in the back of my throat.

"We shouldn't," I agree, and gasp when he moves closer, his hands sliding down to guide my hips towards him as his knee knocks mine apart. He steps one foot between mine, leaning into me, and I can't help the whine he forces out of my lips this time. And when I see his satisfied grin, I can't help the tiny bashful smile that pokes at my own lips.

"You're an asshole." I breathe against his lips, the club pulses above us, footsteps creaking on the stairs, but in that moment we dont feel the pull of the crowd singing and dancing. His hands grip my waist through the thin fabric of my black dress, pulling me in, and I feel everything. His chest hits mine with his sharp breath in, our eyes finding each other and holding a gaze I feel as bitter as the tequila in my stomach.

"I know," He pulls me in by wrapping his arm around my waist, hand finding my jaw and tugging me impossibly closer. Our lips meet again, all heat and fervor and my hands find the back of his head, knocking our teeth when I tug him in after he breaks the kiss.

22R stains his lips and I see it on his teeth when he grins, memories flicker through my eyes. He tastes like expensive whiskey and rum, a hint of shitty bottled beer taps my tonsils when I swallow. He tastes like everything I should run from and yet, I crave more.

"Dhanishka!" Charles calls for me somewhere in the club, voice loud against the music, and I step back. Reaching out to grab my wrist, Logan pulls me in once more, his thumb runs along my lower lip, fixing the smudged lipstick in the dark, dingy bathroom hall. I don't know what to say, I don't know if this is a moment where I'm even supposed to say anything.

"Danny!" Daniel shouts, coming to the hall of the bathroom and I push Logan back into the men's room and slam the door shut before he can say anything.

"There you are!" Charles calls and I wave, turning to them.

"Sorry," I giggle, the warmth of the kiss on my face as I feel the ghosts of Logan's hands on my skin, "I think I had a little too much."

"So did Max," Daniel snorts, flicking on his phone flashlight so I can properly see the stairs as I make my way over to where they stand halfway down them. I hear the men's room door creak and turn back to catch Logan's eye as Charles grabs my wrist and carts me upstairs.

We share a tiny grin between us, charged by drunken decisions, it's our moment. No one else sees. Or if they do, they don't say a word But Charles' grip on my wrist tightens, and I have an odd feeling we might not have been as alone as we thought we were in that hallway.

taglist (thank you!)

@chasing-liberosis @justsomejess @struggling-with-delia

[tarjapearce]

Crimson Crown (Pt. 3)

Royal! AU Miguel O'Hara x Princess! Reader

Special thanks to @pinkiemme for this amazing fanart for this fic ❤️✨

WARNINGS: Angst, Sibling bonding, awkward talks, mild squeeze of jealousy if you squint, Bit of fluff, meaningful talks, slow burn, apologies, tension, arranged marriage.

Summary: In the admist of a feely chaos, a common ground is found.

Thanks to my beta reader @oharasmommymilkers00 <3

Every bendable joint stretched, and some popped as you awoke, but in all honesty, functioning today wasn't something you wanted to do. Thoughts rooting heavier in your head upon remembering last night's events.

Your face sunk into the pillow, allowing its plush and warm embrace to cradle your face longer. Bloodshot eyes turned glossy and soon one tear fell. Another followed and so on, as if your body had finally released all the bad things that you had been bottling up.

You didn't cherish it, just finally dwelled on it, giving in to the sadness you had pushed away for so long that it came biting back at you before reaching for your diary and writing all your suffering away. Some tears certainly had stained the pages as you wrote.

Dainty hand scribbled angrily and pained but eventually stopped after a couple of pages. The servants announced their presence to bring your first meal of the day. A bit of gruel and fruit.

One of the servants stared at you for a second, but quickly returned to her duties, leaving you alone once more. Appetite wasn't something you wanted to indulge in too much, but certainly, you'd need the energy if you wanted to go out.

You ate in between stacking all the paintings back in the wooden box. The colorful landscape of your room was slowly returning to its dull color. The sheets and the hardened tainted tips of the paintbrushes were the only things that popped out.

The paintings were stacked into a corner as you made the space for another hobby, almost leaving the place as you had originally acquired it. Cold, empty, home of the darkness that loved to sit and watch you from the corners.

You'd miss your mother's comforting words after a terrible day, you missed Lucille. Sometimes you'd indeed wonder what would she be doing. Why Miguel forbade to bring her in was a mystery to you. The only thing certain is that you needed your friend. You needed a friend.

Of course, you missed the little cherry tart Lucille gave you every time she'd find you crying. The strolls through the castle she'd take you to whenever your parents discussed things so carelessly before you. But none of that mattered anymore.

A princess's duty was far more than just training oneself in the arts and being well-versed in many things. The ugly side of it, something you'd recently been acquainted with, had taught you the real meaning of being a royal. Sacrifice.

Even though your kingdom was now under the protection of Arachne, the price in return seemed a bit too high. Your happiness. But again as your mother had said

Our wishes matter little when men decide it's fun to play war.

Those words have stuck with you ever since. Marriage was something you didn't though too much, despite your father's attempts to marry you to a king of abroad lands. He even had considered offering your hand in marriage to Kraven if it meant to keep the peace. Of course, your mother had opposed greatly, but she was only saving you up as her last card under the sleeve and handed you over to the biggest player in the war-waging game, Miguel.

Miguel had won. Like usual. You were to marry him within two months and a week. It finally dawned on you—cold and bitter truth. You dreaded marrying him and just acting like a public figure for both kingdoms. He didn't need you, much to your maudlin reasoning, you knew he was more than capable of leading the kingdom on his own.

He doesn't need you

Your mind chanted. And for a moment you believed it. The way he acted, showing little glimpses of kindness to then completely ignoring you until he saw fitting not doing so, either by his counselor's advice or a little guilt.

Guiltiness

Of course not. The man had slayed without remorse anything that meddled with his kingdom. You were sure that if your realm would have much more resources, you'd be at war with him.

But this kind of war, an inner one, was something you were losing.

You had seen his little to no reaction to what his brother had called you. The word made you sick, but it made you sicker to know he let everything unfold.

So so cold.

Mere politics. A game in which you were a pawn. His pawn. It kind of made you wonder what kind of mistresses he had.

Had you met them without realizing it? Hopefully not, and you prayed for it to never happen. You wouldn't be able to stand it. A reason why you admired so much your mother.

On rare occasions, you had seen her cry because your father preferred a mistress' than her own company, but she always held her head high, face cold and proud. Never allowing the rest to see her waver.

Fresh tears were wiped off your face as the servants came once more. You bathed and prepared for the day. Peter came in once you were ready, frowning for a moment at your reddened face, his eyes noticed you had cleaned up the painting area, leaving it bare.

"Your Majesty" Peter greeted

You bowed at him.

"Could I have Lady Gwen and Lord Hobie to accompany me today?"

Peter tilted his head in confusion, "Beg your pardon?"

"I will go to the city, I need some supplies."

"You could ask and the king-"

"He's done enough. I don't wish to keep using his good faith when I can get them myself, ser Peter."

The words felt sharp as they came out of your mouth, but in truth, you didn't want to keep adding to his stress.

You sighed as your fist clenched for a moment on the skirt of your dress.

" And I need to clear my head. A trip to the city would be good."

"You've got to understand that I cannot leave your side, right?"

"If you get in trouble, I'll take full responsibility for it."

Peter's eyes softened and nodded.

"I'll call them."

-------

"Are you awake?" Gabriel spoke as he entered Miguel's chambers. The king received him with a grunt as he looked at some new reports Jessica had brought him.

"Of course you are. Did you even get some sleep?"

"No."

"Surprise, surprise." Gabriel shook his head and took one report. Miguel's gaze fixed on him, a little hidden smile creeping on his face.

"What are you doing?"

Gabriel's hand unfolded yet another report, "Helping you."

"I can do it myself."

"It's my kingdom too. Of course, I need to know what is happening around."

Miguel chuckled and let him. They remained quiet, going through the many reports. Some weren't as urgent as the others, surveillance of areas, economics, politics, and letters incoming from other kingdoms.

A couple of ones directed to you. Your parents mostly and one from a woman named Lucille. He put your cards away and let one of his agents, Margo, deliver them to you. He didn't trust regular servants to deliver such personal things, too much of a risky move.

"What are the plans for today besides pouring yourself to work?"

Miguel sighed and went through the last report before looking at Gabriel.

"I need to test some things before making advance in something else."

Gabriel rested against his chair and put his feet on the table, which Miguel quickly removed.

"Thought you'd like to apologize to your future bride."

"She doesn't want to be disturbed, and you're the one at fault. Not me."

Gabriel's eyes widened softly and he nodded.

"Still, I might send her a letter."

"No. You're to ask an audience with her and apologize. Make it right."

"What about you?"

Miguel waved him off, a sign to which Gabriel understood as 'I'll find a way later'.

"You know... heard the servants talking"

"I don't have time for gossip, Gabriel."

The younger O'Hara snorted and gestured towards him.

"They say they have seen your little princess crying. A lot, ever since she came here actually."

Miguel tensed for a moment and put the papers down.

"I know it's been forever since you've courted someone. But-"

"Courting doesn't lead a country"

Gabriel shrugged and stood. "In any case, I will apologize once she returns from her trip."

His words snapped Miguel's attention back at him.

"What trip?"

Gabriel smirked at his demanding tone, "She's in the city, looking for things."

Miguel pinched his nose bridge.

"She could've asked..."

"Peter sent her off-"

"What do you mean Peter is here?! He is supposed to be her guardian!"

Miguel secured the sword to his hip and darted out of his room. Gabriel seemed pleased as he followed him. He thrived in seeing his brother antsy and panicky over silly things.

A present reminder that he was still human, and not a belicista monster at heart like everyone made him to be.

Peter's eyes darted away from him upon his arrival.

"Why aren't you with the Princess?"

"She asked me not to come with her. Asked for Gwen and Hobie instead"

Miguel's icy glare remained on a scowling Peter.

"Why?"

"Ask her yourself."

Gabriel's excitement died upon sensing the tension between the both.

"Ser Peter, my apologies for interrupting your duty. But, do you know by chance where she has gone to?"

"She needed some space."

Away from you both.

Peter's mind wanted to say but it would surely gain his title removed. His mouth kept in a straight line as Miguel kept on glaring at him.

"She wanted to get some things for herself."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Peter sighed and shook his head.

"Because she said you'd done enough. And she doesn't want to be disturbed."

Gabriel cringed, his eyes darting back and forth between Miguel and Peter. He didn't mean to offend you, but something  worse was happening. And it was his fault, yet Miguel was already seizing that burden as his own.

" Will you let us know when she arrives? I understand her wish to be left alone, but the distress I put her through yesterday needs to be addressed as soon as possible."

Peter just nodded as Miguel entered your chambers. His frown immediately deepens upon seeing the current state of your room. Just like he had given it to you. Bland, dull, and with no colors, just like your ongoing emotions.

The paints were carefully stacked in a corner, his gift stored back where he had sent it. The faint scent of your perfume, the only indicator you had been here, was subtly overpowered by the smell of dried oil paintings.

Your desk was neatly organized, but a couple of crumpled sheets ruined the pristine image. He took one and unfolded it bit by bit. A single word scribbled and scratched with such violence it tore the page.

Concubine.

He rubbed his face and crumpled the sheet once more. Angry steps guide him away from your room. Gabriel was out of his sight.

Good.

----

The trip had surely made your brain ease the anguish and bad thoughts your mind was spiraling into.

One thing you certainly liked about Arachne, was the many imported products you could find. That would mean, finding the golden Thelerian thread you used for your embroidering back at home.

Crimson, golden, green, indigo blue, and black along some hoops and needles. You also got some other materials. Hobie and Gwen followed you but kept their distance when sensing the gloominess taking over you. They just followed wherever you went. They gave you your space.

You'd stop at the baker's for his tarts, obviously. You got half a dozen of them. Along with some more books about Arachne.

There were a couple of interesting things that caught your attention. The machinery used was something you'd never seen before; and surely the affluence of foreign people.

If you paid close attention, you could distinguish the people from their origin country. Erunians’ upper class always dressed in fine linens with subtle armoring pieces, a couple of them paraded through the market.

You could spot some fellow Thelerians in the art and fabric shops. They'd be probably looking for supplies, as well for a new upcoming activity in the arts academy. A wistful and longing glance was thrown their way before your eyes met a flamboyant man, dressed in the silkiest fur coat you had seen so far.

An Onerimian. You saw other people, probably people from even further kingdoms of Enethor.

It made sense for Miguel to go to such extent as to marry himself in exchange for his country thriving. He was a king after all. No monarch would want their land suffering unless it was a terrible one. Which you had heard stories about.

Once your shopping ended, you got back into the carriage and returned to the palace.

-----

The news of your arrival fell upon both Miguel’s and Gabriel's ears. The latter got himself ready to talk to you.

"See you later, Miggy"

Miguel just grunted in response as he watched you from his window and rubbed his face on your melancholic expression.

The servants always talked, but seeing your face with saddened and dull eyes, made the headache grow gradually.

The council held less power than him, but even so, their influence was something he couldn't deny. An extension of his power. They helped him as well with so many other things, or else he'd never had a break.

Being a ruler wasn't easy, being the head of a whole nation was worse. For once, the questioning of his worth came into mind after so many years.

He had even sacrificed his health to keep the kingdom striving and together for the past seventeen years on his own. And in all that time a marriage never crossed his mind. Until now.

----

"Princess!"

Gabriel bowed with a serious face, and your discomfit grew, but you still pushed that aside and bowed back.

"My lord."

Gabriel sighed and clasped his hands before you.

"Could you spare me some minutes of your time for a hearing, your highness?"

Your heart thumped with violence inside your chest but you nodded

"Certainly, sir."

"Good. I... Thank you. I know you wanted to be left alone for the day, but I must apologize to you for my actions yesterday. It was completely out of line."

Gabriel sighed and looked at you, honest words and eyes fixed on your defeated form.

"I didn't know my brother had gotten engaged. I was out on duty and found out when I got to the castle. It has never been my intention to insult you, your highness."

"Your honesty is quite admirable, ser. Thanks for that"

"Do you accept my apologies?"

"Yes. Now if you'd excuse me, I must go"

Gabriel bowed and left you be.

The servants took your things inside your room as you bowed to everyone that greeted you.

Dinner time approached and the food was brought to your room.

Your mind gravitated towards Miguel. Thankful that he had respected your wishes to be left alone for the day.

What about tomorrow and the day after that?

Your hands faltered and a heavy sigh escaped your lips.

As long as you were kept busy, the rest didn't matter, right? He seemed way too contemptuous of being away and meddling with his affairs.

Probably with a mistress

Your breath hitched as you rubbed your face in disgust at your thoughts. What he did in his spare time was none of your business. Yet it was unavoidable to feel your chest constricting at your hurting thoughts.

Enough

Your mind rumbled as you focused on the new task before you. The embroidery was one of your favorites, it was calming and required your full attention. It helped you back at home.

-----

The next day went like nothing had happened. You were still in your room, embroidering. You were so engrossed in your task that got startled when a woman in her elite uniform cleared her throat, finally making her presence known to you.

"My apologies for startling you, your highness. I am Margo. One of the king's agents."

She bowed and you followed

"He sends this to you."

Margo delivered a little paper with a note scribbled on it. Penmanship sloppy and hurried but legible enough.

Meet me at the main hall within an hour.

You frowned upon reading the note and sighed.

"I'll be there. Thanks for your service, Lady Margo."

"Please, just Margo. I'll let him know of your reply right away."

She left, and you groaned inwardly.

Nervous steps guided you through the main halls of the castle. Finally, they stopped a few meters away from what you thought was his office. He was talking to Jessica and then excused himself as soon as he saw you.

Oh dear.

-----

He was before you within a couple of strides, long legs reached your presence, and his forever stoic yet deep eyes settled on you. Breathing felt heavy and stuffy. 

"Princesa"  his voice held a bit of a gruff. He cleared his throat and pointed the way ahead.

"Walk with me."

It wasn't a suggestion or an order. And still, you followed. His hands clenched and relaxed as He walked with you, matching your pace.

"Is there a specific reason why you have requested my company tonight, My lord?"

He chuckled, glad that you were addressing things without sugarcoating them.

"I want to apologize."

"Whatever for? Prince Gabriel has already apologized. We have... reached a truce regarding that situation."

Miguel glanced at you with curious and soft eyes as you both kept walking through the castle.

"I know you are aware of what our marriage implies, Princesa."

"Of course. Even though my family was the one to orchestrate such union, I’m a firm believer that our kingdoms could mutually benefit from it."

"My thoughts exactly. What are your prospects for Theleria? "

"We might not be the realm we used to be centuries ago, but I believe we have been turning into something better. I don't favor war, and many might see it as a weakness, but as long as there are more options, I won't be afraid to explore them."

"What if war is the only way?"

"Is it truly, though? I know there are times when war is the only way out. And as much as it pains me, it must be seen through. To me, war is the last resource."

"On that, we agree."

Miguel nodded as you stared at him with a curious gaze.

"Contrary to what everyone outside my kingdom's walls believes, I don't engage in war because they're fun. Wars are the result of several failed attempts at dialogue. My last resource."

You smiled softly at his words and he smiled back.

"I must apologize to you, then. My initial judgment has been proven wrong. And I'm glad it did."

"How so?" Miguel inquired as you both walked wherever your feet took you. The soft and sweet scent of the gardens tickled your nose.

"This arranged marriage was quite sudden for both. I know much. You weren't looking for such a thing, neither did I. Yet-"

"Here we are."

Miguel slicked his hair back as Peter's words finally started to sink in.

"I know a kingdom is the most important thing for a good ruler. It is important to you as it is important to me."

You spoke as you faced him.

"My parents might have arranged this, but... It doesn't mean we can't influence the path it takes. As your future... ally"

Your words hesitated, "I want to be seen as more than just a public figure, but someone you can rely on if the chance presents itself."

Miguel's heart thumped with strength at your words. His gaze remained on you a little longer than it should.

" What do you aspire to accomplish in Arachne, Princesa?"

" The same thing I'd want for my future kingdom, My lord. For it to keep striving, improving, and marching towards a better future, where its citizens know they can have the same opportunities they'd get in abroad lands. For them to know that we have their back. Like it should be."

Miguel's hands tingled upon your words. The urge to reach for you and hug you at finally finding someone who understood his reasoning was a bit overwhelming, in a good kind of way. His heart seemed to be pumping in excitement.

"Seems we share a vision."

"Indeed. Our kingdoms' well-being is the thing that brought us here. Would be foolish to think differently."

"I apologize if... I've underestimated your reasoning, Princesa."

You shook your head with a lax smile.

"It's alright, sir. It's only natural to be guarded towards stranger's opinions."

"You're certainly no stranger"

Your brows rose in surprise "Oh?"

Miguel blinked at his own words

"I mean..."

He rubbed his neck softly

"I think allies would be too soon since I've got yet, to prove my worth to you and your scary council. Acquaintances, it's the right term."

You spoke with a soft smile. The kind of smile one would wear when facing an awkward truth.

"Acquaintances, then."

He didn't like that word, as true as it was. It didn't sit right in his head and it had left a bad taste in his mouth.

"I must know though, Princesa. Why would you order Peter to stay behind?"

"Well, poor man needed a break. He's always looking after me."

His jaw clenched softly at the compassionate words for Peter.

"You must understand he can't leave your side, right?"

"I take full responsibility for that, my lord. I know I shouldn't ignore your authority. I'm sorry for that."

The servants ran around the castle, some looked your way with keen eyes, whispering among them as they saw you and Miguel.

"In any case, thanks for listening, my lord. I hope your doubts have been cleared a bit with our conversation. Your company is always enjoyable"

"Certainly."

His mind slapped himself inwardly as you chuckled.

"Then I bid you a goodnight, ser."

You bowed to him and made your way back to your room. He went back to his office.

His mind ran a mile per second with all sort of thoughts.

"Certainly" He groaned in annoyance. He also wanted to say your company was good, but instead, he came out as a self-centered man.

"What's wrong?"

Peter entered his chambers in casual dressings and Miguel glared at him upon remembering the other bits of the conversation.

"You don't need a fucking break. I do."

Peter's brows knitted together in confusion at his sudden words. Your genuine concern for Peter didn't sit right either.

"Then, spend more time doing what you like. Or more time with the princess."

"She said we're acquaintances."

"Which is not far from the truth. Why are you upset?"

"Because you were right. And I hate it when you do."

Peter's smile grew wider "Told you."

"Cállate."

Peter chuckled and sat before him.

"What did you talk about?"

"She told me that she wanted to be a reliable ally. She... understands my vision."

Peter's eyes widened softly as his smile turned into a smirk.

"Seems you did right in approaching"

"Told you to keep your allies closer."

Your sincere words regarding your concerns about the kingdom had his attention fully enraptured into you. The attention that he only put into little selected things. A sort of attention he'd gladly address you again with, just to hear you talk so fervently about your common goals.

"Si si, ya. Vete." (Yeah, yeah. Leave)

"Sleep. Tomorrow's a long day."

He just nodded and watched Peter leave.

Acquaintances were better than strangers. It was a progress, a baby step, but a step closer nonetheless.

-----

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[taffycandyqt]

heyyy again, can i request the rise turtles reacting to reader deciding they want to pierce them-selfs but too lazy to go get them professionally done so they just walk in on the reader half-way piercing them-selfs and freak out cuz they just have a needle in them and reader is laughing their ass off at their face.

(the piercing can be anywhere an there face)

remember to drink lots of water as well and take care of yourself <3

Your literally so sweet! Thank you! <3 and right back at you, take good care!

Also I got to like the middle of Mikey's and then Tumblr deleted the whole thing so I just kinda🥲

TW: Mentions of blood (nothing gross), mentions of needles and needles piercing skin

Notes: GN reader

You decided that getting piercings was too much effort and too expensive. So why not do it yourself?

Raph:

*PANIC*

Boi is the epitome of terrified

And look, he knows piercings are a thing and that people get them but like he isn't surrounded by many people with them and he always thought it was supposed to be done professionally.

So, safe to say when he comes to your place to hang and finds you in the bathroom with blood dripping from your ear and a needle in it, broski SCREECHED.

Legit worried someone straight up tried to stabb you with a needle.

Tonight was the night! You finally decided to suck it up and get that double piercing you've always wanted. However, you were poor.

So! DIY it is! People do it all the time so it couldn't be that hard right?

Wrong.

At least you think so. You didn't really do any research before hand so you aren't 100% sure the bleeding is bad. But at the same time you don't think bleeding is normal in this kind of situation. Or at least not the desired result.

Admist the chaos of you trying to control the bleeding Raph texts you that he dropped by for a short visit. You figured that the calming presence of your boyfriend would help lift you mood and keep you from freaking out. So after telling him where to find you, you sat down on the toilet lid to actually search up how to to pierce yourself. (And if bleeding is normal). However before you could get to any useful information you hear the surprised screech of your boyfriend.

"OH MI GOSH! ARE YOU OKAY??!"

"Oh, Raph this is jus-"

"WOW thatsalotofblood...COTTON BALLS! or gauze?? You have those right? How did this happen?? WAIT! We need to remove the needle first! Did someone do this to you??? Was it an accident? How do you accidental-"

"PFFFFFFFTTT! HAHAHehehehehe!" You practically cackled.

"w- ... what ...?" Raph said, no less panicked, just a little more confused.

"Raph. Sweetheart, hehe," you couldn't help but giggle. "Love of my life, I'm fine, I'm just piercing my ears."

"Oh. So the bleeding is normal then?"

"Oh, no. I'm pretty sure that's a bad thing."

"TAKE THE NEEDLE OUT!"

Mikey:

You cannot tell me this boy has not thought about getting piercings before.

They're just so pretty and cool, and he is all for them! (Low-key upset he doesn't have ears because of all the cool ear piercings out there)

Even with that though, when you show up with needles sticking out of each side of you bottom lip, bro is a little scared.

Like wtf are you doing??

When you tell him though, he is HAPPY to help.

He will even get a piercing with you!

Splinter will make him take it out later buuuuuut, it's about the couple bondinggg!!

On a high of boredom and internet envy (a.k.a, seeing tons of pics of hot ppl with snake bite piercings) you began to prepare needles to give yourself some dope piercings. After expertly pushing the needles through both ends of your bottom lip you were reminded of your 'bi-weekly mandatory art and cuddle couple bonding date' (Mikey's name for it). You couldn't just take the needles out so after some thought you just decided, screw it, it's not like I'm bleeding. It hurt a little though.

After slipping under the man hole cover and navigating the nasty sewer you made it to the lair. Voicing a quick hello to Splinter as you passed through he living room he met you with a swift wave, still thoroughly invested in his l show.

Making your way to Mikey's room you speak a quick 'knock knock' to get his attention, seeing as you couldn't really knock on a curtain. As the turtle of the hour excitedly pushed open the curtain he was more than a little surprised upon seeing you.

"EEP!"

*WHEEZE!*

You couldn't help it okay?? You didn't know what reaction you were expecting from him but it definitely wasn't 'EEP!'. Eventually you both calmed down enough to talk.

"Angle, what did you do?"

"I'm getting snake bites! Did it myself, what do you think??"

"That's so COOL! Can I get a piercing too!!?"

"I'm pretty sure that's up to your dad hun."

"He'll be fineeeeeee! Come on! This can be the art portion of the 'art and cuddle' date.

Later:

"ORANGE!" Splinter yelled. "I DON'T CARE IF THIS IS SOME FORM OF TEENAGE REBELLION, TAKE THAT OUT NOW OR I'LL DO IT MYSELF!"

"But daaaaaaad!"

Leo:

If you thought Raph's screeching was bad, Leo's is worse.

My guy just wanted to see you and just so happens to portal to you right as the needle goes STRAIGHT through your septum.

When he sees this he FREAKS TF OUT then slips and eats bathroom tile right after.

You'll laugh but he will be so shook

Like he saw the needle GO THROUGH YOU!

Mans is high-key traumatized.

It doesn't help that he probably forgot that piercings were a thing and is just like, wth would you put a needle in YOUR FACE.

When you tell him you're just getting a piercing he will get pouty about you laughing at him (and embarrassed that that wasn't his first thought) and you'll basically have to baby him the rest of the time he's there.

"Oh y/nnnnn-"

*Pinch*

Needle successfully through the septum.

"EEEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAH- OOF!"

"HOLY! LEO! WTF you scared the crap out of me! Are you okay?!"

"Wha- eeh- THERES A NEEDLE IN YOUR NOSE!" He yelled pointing a finger at your face.

"Sksksksksk," you snickered. "Yeah, Leo, I put it there."

You had always wanted a septum piercing, but you just couldn't bring yourself to actually go and get it done so you figured the only way to get it is to do it yourself. Your just lucky Leo scared you after it was through rather than before, who knows the kind of bloody nose you would have gotten.

"WHY?!"

"Uuuh, cuz septum piercings are cool?"

"..."

"So how'd the floor taste bud?"

"I-! Hey! Why don't you try seeing someone STAB a NEEDLE through there face. I SAW I GO THROUGH!" He gestured dramatically before folding his arms and facing away from you.

"Awww, come on now handsome. Don't be like that. Tell you what, why don't we make some hot coco and we can watch whatever movie you want"

"Mmmhmmhmhm" he grumped but complied as you led him to the kitchen.

He clung to you the rest of the evening and consistently snuggled his face into your neck during the movie.

Donnie:

Low-key grossed out by the idea of a needle going through someone.

Even more grossed out that you decided to #1. Do it yourself, and #2. Pierce your tongue.

Just, ewww.

But then you had the GALL to ask him if he could help you and he's just like, with what??

I'm not touching your tongue and I am sure not stabbing it with a needle, so what do you want from me??

Will tell you about the multitude of mouth infections you could get from a tongue piercing

Will be there the entire time to make sure you don't hurt yourself, though he has to look away when you actually put the needle through.

Again, ew.

Even though he finds the whole idea gross, he will admit that when all was said and done, it looked good on you.

Your probably the only person he thinks looks good with one.

"I'm sure Mikey would be more than happy to help you."

"No Donnie! I asked YOU cuz I want YOUR help!"

You told Donnie all the time how you wanted a tongue piercing. You were just to lazy to get it done professionally and frankly, you don't want a stranger prodding your mouth. When you realized you could do it yourself, you were so excited. Donnie helping you would just make it all that much better!

"Y/n, while I am happy to assist you in any matter and am glad you came to me for such, I'm afraid I cannot help you in this matter."

"Why not? Your smart, with your help my piercing will be perfect!"

"Dearest. You are correct, I am smart. However, I am a man if science and my talents lie outside the realm of bodily piercings. Besides, are you aware of the sheer amount of infections a piercing give you? Mouth piercings especially cause quite grotesque infections, and that's not even to mention the damage it can cause to your teeth."

"Awwww." You sighed in disappointment.

"..."

"Though... I suppose nothing stops me from making sure you follow the instructions correctly."

"YAAAY!"

-a couple minutes later-

"Okay, dear, let's go over one more time. Gauze?"

"Yes!" You replied.

"Needle?"

"Yup!"

"Piercing?"

"Yeppers!"

Donnie looked at you for a moment and raised an eyebrow at that response, but kept going regardless.

"Lighter and ice cubes?"

"Yeppiroo!"

"Okay. The first step is to heat the needle."

After carefully going through the instructions you finally got your long awaited tongue piercing! However Donnie didn't think you had started to pierce your tongue and saw you with a needle halfway through your tongue before looking away and gaging, which you couldn't help but laugh at. That was until Donnie told you to stop before you hurt yourself. Overall, he did make the whole experience, so much better.

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

I hope that was good! Sorry if there are any inaccuracies. I am literally going off of what I saw in the parent trap soooooo. Yeah. There's my first fic.

Imma go to bed now🥱😵

[wxaezhen]

"Ofcourse, that fear is not the only reason I play. I do not strum the chords of my guqin because I know that you are not truly gone. Please tell me I am right, I have never found myself this uncertain..I have never found myself.... questioning; Not until you came into my life. You are my constant, Wei Ying, Admist of all chaos."