#and being told that having any concern about your comfort or appearance is a sin and a sign of being unintelligent or wtv

[orchres]

I cannot take a lot of what cis women have to say about """"femininity"""" seriously esp the pink preening variety because it all looks the fucking same. It's not so much a genuine expression of self as it is purchasing an identity in lieu of actually thinking about what all these actions and values they claim constitute this idea of femininity mean. ur not feminine ur just a buyer of pink objects lol I can't respect that anymore than I can respect alpha males because it's two sides of the same stupid cissexist coin

[cinnikiroll]

being alive isn't a sin / there's no need to apologize

Summary: When Tammy comes out to her mom and it doesn't go well, Hannah is there to comfort her.

Word Count: 1,675 words

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of religious guilt, 'praying for forgiveness' for being lesbian, mentions of being a "sinner" for being lesbian, along with other content of that nature. Read with caution, or don't read at all, if that type of content upsets you.

If you like this fic, please do check out my other fanfics on AO3 under the username cinnikiroll. Here is a link to my profile, where I have fics from other shows for your viewing pleasure!

https://archiveofourown.org/users/cinnikiroll

Tammy's hands shook as she picked up her phone.

She had been dreading this call for days, ever since she'd told her mother she needed to talk about something serious. As she opened her contacts, her thumb hovering over the call button, she could already feel the heat of judging eyes on the nape of her neck.

The saying, 'there is no hate like Christian love' remained in the forefront of Tammy's mind as she finally gained enough confidence to hit the call button. Her body was trembling, and she could feel tightness building in her chest.

"Ma? I have something to tell you."

Her voice was small, meek, a far cry from her typical confident tone. She could hear the concern in her mother's voice when she responded.

"I... I'm lesbian, Ma."

The silence on the other end of the call said more than any words could. It seemed to extend into eternity, permeating every corner of Tammy's terrified heart.

She had already considered what to do if her mother judged her for her sexuality, but she had been holding on to a loose sense of hope that maybe, just maybe, the legendarily pious Mrs. Gregorio could be accepting of her daughter's identity and love her despite it.

With every second the silence lasted, Tammy's grip on the rope of hope loosened, until she was adrift in the sea of judgement and pain.

A deep, exasperated sigh could be heard on the other end of the line, pushing Tammy further out to sea. She could no longer see the shoreline, and she felt as if she was drowning in pain. Her own mother, judging her for who she loved... it was hard to accept.

Yet, she knew she needed to. She couldn't pretend that she was something she wasn't, couldn't pretend she was straight, just to please her loved ones. She'd done that for years, but the lack of genuineness she'd felt had dragged her down.

At every admittedly infrequent family meeting or discussion, whether over the phone or in person, she'd had the urge to leap up and proudly proclaim her lesbian identity to the crowd, judgement be damned!

But now that Tammy had actually opened up, revealed that part of herself... it felt as if she had lost more than she had gained.

Had it been a mistake to be honest?

Should she have lived a lie, just for the sake of being close to her family, to those who loved her?

No. She shouldn't have. No matter how painful her mother's judgement was, she had to open up about her identity, had to be genuine.

"You can't be."

Those three words, full of indignation and shock, were all Tammy's mother could utter. The sounds of shifting rosary beads and soft prayers muttered in Italian in the background informed Tammy that not only her mother had heard her confession; a great deal of her family members that were visiting had as well, and they appeared to be frantically trying to pray the gay out of her.

"I am, Ma. I have been for years. I'm sorry, I-"

"You should be ashamed! You're a disgrace to the Gregorio family name! A sinner!"

Tammy was dumbstruck by the vitriol in her mother's words. All vestiges of concern had disappeared, replaced by red hot rage. It had been so long since she'd heard her mother yelling, and memories of her childhood flowed back to her unbidden and undesired.

"Return to God! Pray to him. You're a good Catholic girl, Tamara Gregorio. There's no reason for you to live in sin like this."

With every word that left her mother's mouth, more memories began to return to Tammy, leaving her curled up on her couch crying, unable to respond to any of her mother's- and her other family members'- angrily hurled words of judgement.

"I'm sorry, Ma," she managed to gasp out once her sobs had quieted down a bit.

"But it's who I am. I can't, and I won't, change it. I already have a girlfriend-"

The agonized cry on the other end of the line cut off the rest of the sentence Tammy wanted to say.

The clicking sound that followed of the phone hanging up cut off the rest of the conversation Tammy wanted to continue.

The text that followed shortly after, just six simple words, cut off any remaining hope of connection or familial love Tammy hoped to feel.

"You are not my daughter anymore."

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

The darkness of the night was deep and quiet as Hannah laid down to rest. Her heart had been troubled and pained the whole day, concerned for Tammy, who she knew had chosen to call her mother and come out to her.

She knew firsthand that religious parents had the possibility to be extremely intolerant of any member of the LGBTQIA+ or any minority community. Thankfully, her Muslim parents had been remarkably kind and loving towards her when she'd come out, but she knew that was the exception to a very painful rule.

Rolling over and rustling her sheets, Hannah noticed the time- 11:30- and then heard a soft knock on her door. It was barely perceptible, but her good hearing allowed her to notice it.

Unaware of who would come to visit her on such a dark and unnaturally cold late night, she swiftly opened the drawer that held her service weapon- which she wasn't supposed to keep at home, but she took no chances as a woman living alone- and went carefully and cautiously to the door.

Making her footsteps as soft as possible, she sidled up to it and yelled in a loud voice to whoever was outside.

"Who's there? I am a trained federal agent; I have a gun and I will use it!"

A familiar voice responded, and Hannah felt her heart aching at the pained tone it held.

"It's Tammy. I... I need you."

As soon as Hannah opened the door, Tammy practically threw herself into the taller woman's arms, pushing both of them down to the hardwood floor with the force of her embrace.

"Oh, eshgham... the call went badly, didn't it? I'm so sorry."

The gentleness in Hannah's tone, the caring way she spoke her often used term of endearment-eshgham, meaning my love in Farsi- just brought more tears to Tammy's eyes. Before long, she was fully sobbing, unable to breathe well.

"I... I'm a sinner. A disappointment to my family..."

Tammy repeated her mother's words tearfully, and Hannah's eyes widened in shock upon hearing those horrible insults spoken.

"No, my dear. You aren't a sinner. Identifying as a lesbian, or as bisexual, or as any member of the LGBTQIA+ community doesn't make you a sinner. Your mother may say that, but those are just words. They aren't the truth."

She pulled her girlfriend closer, determined to comfort her. Seeing the woman she loved so confident that she'd failed her religion and family simply because she chose to love differently to their standards broke her heart. She wanted to cry herself, but she forced herself to be strong, to hold the woman she loved in her arms and say comforting words as if nothing was wrong.

Tammy silently showed Hannah the text her mother had sent her.

You're not my daughter anymore.

"She'll never be my Ma ever again..."

The childlike way she said that, the raw pain in her voice... it tore Hannah right to the core of her being.

As a mother, she could never imagine disowning her child over anything. Naomi was her world, her heart. Granted, she was also only twelve years old, not a grown woman, but a mother always viewed her daughter as their baby, no matter how old they grew.

The bond between a daughter and mother was sacred. It was unfathomable to her that Tammy's mother could forsake that bond over something that seemed so trivial.

Unwittingly, she shed tears over this parting, dampening Tammy's shirt. When Tammy noticed the pain that her girlfriend was suffering due to the agony she herself was suffering, she felt a sudden wave of love drown her heart.

Hannah loved her so much that she was willing to cry over her pain? Even though she might never understand it?

The thought of such deep love brought a smile to Tammy's face, and before soon, all of her sadness was banished.

Who cares if her family judged her under some false premise that being lesbian made her a sinner?

Who cares if her mother never spoke to her again?

She had Hannah, and the force of Hannah's love alone could sustain her.

Hungrily, like a baby seeking milk from its mother, Tammy's lips began to rove over her girlfriend's slender frame, biting gently whenever she found sensitive spots.

Hannah's tears were quickly forgotten, replaced by soft whimpers of pleasure at the touch of her lover's lips against her sensitive skin. She pulled Tammy closer to her, looking into the other woman's eyes with unbridled passion.

"I love you," she murmured, "even if your family does not. You are my guiding star, my anchor in an ocean of sorrow. Never think you are less than simply because you don't conform to typical Roman Catholic standards. Religious standards for women are usually stupid anyway."

Tammy paused in her love biting to laugh loudly at Hannah's comment about religious standards. It was true, they were quite often antiquated and conservative, especially when it came to women.

Hearing the laughter of the woman she loved brought a bright smile to Hannah's face, and before long, both of them were smiling and laughing, their sorrow forgotten, at least for the moment.

When they finally tired and went upstairs to sleep, Tammy clung tightly to the taller woman, not wanting to lose her. Despite the many assurances of endless love that she'd been given, she was still afraid given recent events.

"I'm not leaving you, ghalbam. I promise."

And Hannah kept that promise, clinging tightly to Tammy the whole night.

[red-writes]

soft yan! shinsou x chubby! reader

summary: you keep receiving these letters in your mailbox from an unknown person, somehow you find yourself slowly falling for the creepy admirer until one day they decide to reveal themselves to you in the worst way possible—by looming over you while you sleep.

warnings: yandere behavior, insecurities, light smut.

Boo’s note: hi okay, this is dedicated to the annie that asked me for a shinsou fic, tbh I didn’t really know what to make it about bc u didn’t specify but here I hope you like it *^* uhh it’s also unedited im sorrrrry

Everyday at 7:00 am, the mailman drops off mail. Everyday at 7:10 am you’re rushing downstairs after stuffing half a bagel in your mouth to retrieve the stack of envelopes from the mailbox. The letters started appearing a month ago, pretty purple envelopes sealed with a cat sticker were amongst your mail everyday. You picked out the purple one and dropped the other unimportant, plain white envelopes on the coffee table. You took a seat on the couch and hurriedly opened it up.

My dearest love,

Last night I had a dream about you. You’re perfect face was smiling at me, you called my name and even held your hand out to me. You were so perfect I woke up crying. The more time that passes, the more I find myself falling deeper and deeper in the never-ending ocean that is you. So deep, so warm, comforting and gentle. Do you think that maybe one day, we could be happy together? That we could live a life together somewhere peaceful where you have me and I have you and that’s it. To me, that sounds like heaven, a world where the only person I only ever see is you. You’re my everything, my reason to live, to breathe and to continue living in this grueling world. I hope the rest of your day is good, I hope you enjoy yourself at the party.

xoxo,

shin.

After reading you couldn’t help the hard pounding of your heart, it was unusual yes, but you found his fondness for you quite endearing. You clutched the letter and held it to your chest. While it was strikingly odd that he knew about tonight’s party, you didn’t mind. Up until now shin had been harmless, never saying or doing anything too weird or creepy, nothing to warrant you to visit the local police station. You refolded the letter and tucked it back inside of the envelope. Instead of mulling over small details, you needed to find something to put on tonight!

+

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived. It was a charity event for the company you worked for, everyone from the hero deku to chargebolt was in attendance. Big parties like this were not your scene but you had to go, your boss invited you personally and you didn’t want to let him down. You took a drink off of one of the tables and made your way to a less crowded corner of the room. You took rare sips of your champagne as you sighed. This place was definitely not your scene.

“You look fabulous tonight” you hear from beside you, you’re quick to turn your head and your eyes lay upon none other than the mind-jacking hero, Shinsou!

You’re quick to bow, “ah! Mr.shinsou, sir, it’s an honor to meet you” you greet and he’s chuckling softly.

“Hey now, don’t worry about being too formal with me” he says, voice gentle as he rests a hand on your shoulder. Your face is burning, he told you that you looked nice! The number five hero just complimented you!

“Thank-thank you” you say and quickly take another sip of your drink to try and calm your nerves, “you look nice as well”

He gives you a genuine smile, “you’re so sweet”

You can hardly breathe right now, Shinsou first told you that you looked nice and now he was calling you sweet? Was this your lucky day or something?

“Well Shinsou I-”

“Oh! Hitoshi, I’ve been looking for you man!”

Chargebolt walked over to where the two of you were standing and wrapped his arm around Shinsou’s neck. He began pulling him away, going on about how ground zero almost slapped one of the patrons. Shinsou turned to wave goodbye to you and you did the same. Once he was out of sight you released a breathe you hadn’t know you’d been holding in. Tonight felt like a dream, you really didn’t want to wake up from it.

“y/n! There you are, I need to you take pictures of me and some of our guests!” Your boss yells and you’re sighing, downing the rest of your drink before you rest it on a neighboring table.

“Coming sir!”

well maybe you were ready to wake up from it now.

+

The next day at the same time you retrieved your mail, you’d shuffled through it several times and yet you hadn’t found that signature purple envelope. The day after that and even the day after that one there was no letter for you in the mail. It stung. Maybe they’d lost interest in you? Maybe they decided that you weren’t good enough after all?

The sixth day after receiving no letter you’d decided to give up, it wasn’t like you knew this was going to happen. You threw yourself onto your bed as soon as you got out the shower. You’d been doing poorly at work lately, your mind too busy focusing on those purple envelopes rather than the stack of paper work in front of you. You pulled the sheets up to your chin and shut your eyes, praying that you wouldn’t dream of that person or their kind words.

There was an odd sensation you got, it felt like cold air was hitting your body. Were you still dreaming? You didn’t leave your window open. Your eyes fluttered open, your vision still slightly blurry as you came to. Your sat up and rubbed your eyes. From the corner of your eye you saw a figure standing there. Fear that laid dormant until now began to unfurl itself in your gut, you slowly turned your head to face it and there he was.

“M-mr.Shinsou?!” You whisper yelled, he gave you a soft smile and held his hands up in front of him.

“You caught me” he says and begins walking towards you, you’re scurrying away from him on the bed.

“Why- why are you here?!” you hold the sheet up in front of you like a shield.

“I felt guilty about not sending letters for so long..I made you sad and I couldn’t forgive myself for that so I came to make it up to you” he explains and your still sleep filled mind was struggling trying to comprehend his words.

“Letters..you’re the one who has been sending me all of those letters?” You ask and he nods, he takes a seat on the edge of your bed and that familiar pounding of your heart is back. It was him, the person you’d been longing for, for so long now.

“Mhm, everything I said in those letters were true as well, how beautiful I think you are, how addicting your personality is, how absolutely sinful I think your body is..” he whispers and you feel air caught in your throat. Shinsou inches closer and closer to you and in a flash of purple he pins you underneath him.

“Mr.Shinsou..-”

“Hitoshi, call me Hitoshi” he corrects.

His head slowly lowers until his face is millimeters from yours, his breath is hot against your lips and you can’t help but shut your eyes, you’d been wanting this- wanting him for such a long time now. Shinsou’s lips press gently against yours and you find yourself kissing back, your lips move in a glorious synchronous. The kiss was one of passion and hunger; proof that the two of you had been longing for the other. You pulled away from him, lungs grateful for the ability to breathe again.

“Hitoshi..” you whisper and Shinsou sucks in a breath before his hands move downwards to pull at the hem of your night gown.

“Can I?” He asks and you find yourself nodding. The number five hero, the man who has been stalking you, sending you letters that if you were anyone else would find creepy, the man you’d fallen for…

You raised your arms in the air as he slowly began lifting the sheer cloth off of you revealing your nude body to him. Your cheeks burned in embarrassment, your arms folded to cover your exposed chest.

“Y-you might be disillusioned after seeing me completely naked..if you regret choosing me to give your heart to, I don’t blame you” you shyly confess and Shinsou’s eyes widen.

“I could never, I've merely dreamt about this day every night for months on end...you are the most beautiful person I've had the pleasure of laying eyes upon.” He says, his hands gently pry your arms away from your body and you can feel hot tears well up in your eyes as he lays you back against the soft blankets.

His lips are soft as they press themselves against every bit of exposed skin, his kisses don't shy away from stretch marks or any of your other insecurities. A warm, heated feeling that blossoms in your chest. 

Love? Desire? Serendipity?

It felt like all three combined into one big ball of sentiment. 

His hands gently massaged your breasts evoking soft mewls of his name from you. His hands slivered downwards to grope the flesh of your stomach.

“Soft beautiful...” he mumbles, his hands move even further downwards and cup the warmth between your legs. The feeling of his hand directly against you has your legs spreading, giving yourself completely to him. His fingers gently rub circles at your clit, your hips stutter up into his touch, moans and whimpers tumble out of your mouth dumbly. The situation you've been so eager for, for so long was finally upon you.

Your back arches off the mattress as he slides a slim finger inside of you, the sensation feels much fuller than your own fingers do. You beg him to go faster, add more and make you feel better than you have ever before and he's shushing your lust filled ramblings with a kiss. 

“I need to savor this moment, I won’t get many more like this” he expresses and your concern is evident on your face but he doesn't allow you to ponder on his words. He adds in another finger and curls them upwards, pressing them against the spongy sweet spot, his head ducks down and his lips wrap firmly around your clit and suck on the aching bud. Your eyes roll back into your head and your body shakes, unable to handle to the newfound euphoria.

“Ah- shinsou! I’ll- cumming!” your cunt spasms around his fingers as your orgasm hits you, you grip onto the sheets around you as your thighs shake.

“You look so pretty like this, so so pretty” he compliments, before you know it your eyes are involuntarily fluttering shut. You're scared, panic fills you at the thought of him not being here when you wake up, you don't want this to be another fever dream. 

+

When you awake the next morning you feel heavy. Your body slumped with the exhaustion of the previous nights activities. You're eyes widen as your hand feels around the bed, your fingers bump into the heat of another body and there is. The yellow halo from the sun is cast over his head as his chest rises and falls.

You scoot in close enough so that your noses are just barely touching. His eyes begin creaking open and purple gems meet your own.

“Good morning”

“Morning..”

Questions about what he meant last night could wait…you wanted spend your time right now loving him.

[1kook]

commercial break ; EIGHT

this is part of my netflix & chill series! takes place a little after part 7 :)

SUMMARY You always do this— always ask for more. You take and you take until there’s nothing left for Jungkook to give. But Jungkook is the same.  WARNINGS unprotected sex, nipple clamps, overstimulation, pretty pet names for jk, oc is so fckin horNEE, both have a high sex drive, oc is obsessed with the koobies MISC flashbacks to jk’s ex gf yes you read right!, there’s backstory yuck, taehyung the bestie, jk is just so happy where he is now <3 RATING m (18+) WC 1.9k

NOTES finally after six months..... we get a glimpse of jk’s life pre-netflix n chill 🥶 also i just rlly wanted to write jk wearing the nipple clamps hehe 

Taehyung had warned him about this. 

“As hard as it is to believe,” he had said one night during their first year of university, haphazardly parked outside of a Wendy’s at three in the morning. Jungkook was trying to finish an assignment— early, always early —when he had been abruptly hauled to fulfill Taehyung’s spicy chicken sandwich craving. “Girls are hornier than guys.”

Jungkook remembers it so clearly. 

He had chuckled, had harbored this feeling of contentment, of belonging, with his best friend beside him, talking about the most mundane things. “No way,” he had said. He had only broken up with Haerim last month; his first girlfriend, his first heartbreak, all in his first year of college. So he wasn’t particularly bothered with women at the moment, and he probably wouldn’t be for a long time. He quite liked this life of solitude, the peaceful waves brought upon by the comfort of being alone, the occasional break in the water when Taehyung or Namjoon checked in on him. 

Taehyung, on the other hand, had always been concerned with women. A furious nod, huge eyes. “Dude, I swear,” he had exclaimed, and then had launched into a full feature recapture of how horny his then-girlfriend always was. Jungkook had simply listened— it’s what he does best —and nodded along when Taehyung continued his silly ramblings. 

He can still remember his thought process. 

Of course girls are horny. But Jungkook doubts they’re as horny as him or any of the guys he knew. Speaking for himself, Jungkook knows his sex drive is too high; too high for someone who’s only lost his virginity earlier that year. 

Haerim had once told him he asked for too much. And Jungkook understood, really; she was his first, and maybe he got a little too excited in his conquest to try everything, a conquest she wasn’t too keen on joining. “Do you even like me?” she had asked the night they broke up. “Or do you just want to have sex?”

Both, he remembers thinking, but that thought had felt like the wrong answer to give her. Her words had made him squirm, had made him feel so small. Was he asking her for too much? Was Jungkook too much— a handful for her to deal with? Jungkook’s love language had always been physical touch. He thought she understood that. 

They parted ways in the most mature way possible. A simple break-up, no hard feelings. Jungkook felt terrible. He had pushed her too far, had asked for too much. They aren’t as horny as guys, he remembers thinking. Or at least, not as horny as Jungkook. 

In the end, Jungkook remembers politely disagreeing with Taehyung on the matter. 

Until now, nearly four years later, with your hands circling his bare waist. 

He’d just finished nailing you into the mattress not even ten minutes ago, had fucked his cock into you until you were screaming so loud your neighbor had banged on your shared wall. Your lips are soft against his shoulder, the prettiest little giggle slipping past them. It’s pitch black outside, your room enveloped in shadows, but the warmth you press against his back is akin to that of the sun’s; Jungkook can’t think of a more fitting comparison. “I was thinking,” you purr, voice like warm honey down his throat. It makes him melt, has his eyes fluttering shut as your hands trace feathery lines against the waistband of his boxers. 

“That’s not good,” he manages to murmur, trapping your hand over his belly button. You make this sound, something between a satisfied hum and a moan; Jungkook wants nothing more than to spread your legs far apart and lick you down the middle. You shuffle closer behind him. He can feel your tits against his back, the hardened nub of your nipples. 

But it appears Jungkook isn’t the only one interested in nipples tonight. 

“The clamps,” you whisper, voice nearly lost under the thrum of the air conditioning, the steady beat of his heart in his chest. 

And in that moment, Jungkook truly understands what Taehyung had meant that night. 

They sting, terribly so, make him feel like someone is going to rip his nipples out of his chest at any moment. But at the same time, they make his toes curl, make Jungkook grind his teeth together in a feeble attempt to dismiss the pleasure. 

On top of that, the look on your face when Jungkook leans over you, the thin metal chain of the nipple clamps touching your chin, is enough to fuel his solo sessions for years to come. “Oh,” you gasp, trembling hand reaching up for the glittering chain. 

Jungkook hisses at the tug, accidentally bucks forward into the warm cradle between your legs. It makes you whimper, hand on his shoulder, the other holding onto the cruel device on his chest. “Fuck,” he bites, brows furrowed together as he glares down at you. 

“S- So pretty,” you slur, delirious. Jungkook’s not even inside of you, just has his cock resting on your hip. He thinks there might be a droplet of drool clinging to your lips. “Jungkook,” you breathe, finally lifting the other hand to his chest, thumb caressing the pretty gold clamp that is squeezing the life out of his nipple. It feels so good, and Jungkook is so embarrassed. 

You let him in soon enough, eyes trained on his flushed chest as he sinks into you. You’re still so loose, so wet and tender from the fucking he gave you earlier, from the two orgasms from before. He can’t comprehend how you’re still asking for more, capable of more, after he had spit in your mouth, bent you like a pretzel, and all but consumed your entire being in his earlier lust. 

He reaches the hilt and you tug at Jungkook’s clamps, make his chest jerk forward in surprise. “Fuck!” he chokes, hand on the back of your thigh around him. “Don’t f- fucking do that,” he begs, but it feels so good and you’re so entranced, he hardly thinks you hear him. 

It’s like you’re stuck in a daze, tiny mouth opening to release the sweetest little moans, eyes scarily trained on his chest. It’s like you don’t see him, don’t see Jungkook right before you, and for some reason… he adores the feeling. “Look at me,” he whispers, testing the waters. 

You spare him a glance, a supportive smile, and then it’s back to staring at his nipples. 

It makes Jungkook awfully hard. 

In a weird, roundabout sort of way, it’s like he’s being used. Like he’s nothing but a pawn in your lustful schemes, just a visual stimulus to help get you off; in short, it’s a teensy bit degrading. Dismissive. Whatever you want to call it. 

His dick twitches at the thought. 

And, like always, you’re in perfect step with him. Another tug at the chain, another moan torn from his lips. “So pretty for me,” you croon. It’s his line, you know it’s always been his line. Jungkook pushes deeper into you, but aside from a sinful cry, it doesn’t deter you. A wicked grin crosses your features, hand crawling around his neck to tangle in his locks again. “Tits all pink,” you shiver, tapping the pad of a finger against his nipple. Jungkook’s eyes roll to the back of his head, bucks forward suddenly. 

“N- Not pretty,” he growls, pushing you down deeper against the sheets, like maybe they’ll swallow you up and he’ll be saved from your lewd ways. “You’re pretty.”

You chuckle, and then contradict the sweet tone of your voice with a harsh tug against his clamps. Jungkook all but howls, pistons into you until he feels your cervix kiss his tip, call him forward, practically beg for him to fill you whole. “Prettiest boy,” you whimper, tracing his swollen nipple with your finger as if it’ll soothe the prickling sensations that shoot down his spine, makes him rut deeper into you. 

Jungkook wants to cum so badly, wants to spill his seed down your insides until it paints every wall, kisses every inch, until it’s physically impossible for you to not be pregnant. 

But the worst thing is, Jungkook is so terribly spent from the early events of that night, that the mere thought of coming again sounds like it would be painful. Of course, Jungkook immediately realizes the hypocrisy in his statement— he frequently makes you come various times in one night, sometimes in the span of a few minutes —but he never thought he’d be on the receiving end of this— this— overstimulation. 

Your walls squeeze around him, your fingers playfully tugging at the chain in intervals until Jungkook’s back arches forward, hips grinding against your quivering opening. “Cum inside,” you pant, curling one finger around the wretched contraption that seems intent on killing him slowly. He groans, hips snapping at your offer. He wants to so badly, but his toes curl, stomach tightens almost ominously. “Maybe if you do it a second time I’ll get p—“

“Shut up,” he begs, gasping for breath. You manage to laugh through a moan, harshly yanking your fist towards you in a motion that nearly has him crashing down on top of you. “I can’t—“ he shudders, forearms trembling. 

“You can,” you encourage, ankles locking together at the base of his spine. His every being feels overwhelmed, head like TV static. His dick throbs, practically begs for another orgasm that Jungkook fears will tear him apart, leave him a boneless pile of limbs for days. And his chest— “look, Jungkook,” you purr, pinching the already tortured nub between your fingers, “look at your fucking tits” —feels like heaven. 

It only takes a few more rushed thrusts, your stuttering moans like music to his ears, and a particularly brutal pull of the clamps on his chest, before Jungkook is bursting. And it’s painful, just as he thought, makes him release the most airy, fluttery whine. It’s so embarrassing, and frankly surprising, how high his voice can get, but it makes you beam beneath him. “Oh, such a good boy,” you coo, catching him in your arms when he slumps forward, chest against yours. 

He’s as boneless as he predicted, jaw twitching as he tries to gather himself into an acceptable state again. “Fuck you,” he groans, hips jerking with the after shocks of such a stimulated orgasm. 

You laugh, carding your hands through his hair. “You were made to wear cute things like that,” you mumble, lips pressed against his temple. 

Before he can speak (not that he knows what he’d say), you’re tugging him back by his hair, looking like you’ll eat him alive. He wants you to. “The cuffs,” you murmur, nose knocking against his. “Let’s try those on you next.” 

You always do this— always ask for more. You take and you take until there’s nothing left for Jungkook to give. 

But Jungkook is the same. You match him so well, fill the gaps when he’s too shy, lay yourself out when he needs more. 

(“You ask for too much,” Haerim had confessed, staring him down from the doorway of his dormitory. The room had always felt small, but today it feels miniature. Like the walls are closing in on him; he can’t breathe. “I don’t think anyone in this world can keep you satisfied, Jeon Jungkook.”)

Your heel knocks against the back of his thigh, and he is suddenly made aware of the trembling lips of your cunt around his cock, still so wet— still so horny. “Again?” you ask so sweetly, fingers dancing across his back. 

Jungkook shivers. “Again.”

Copyright © 2020, 1kook on tumblr. absolutely NO reposts allowed.

[the-insomniac-emporium]

Crimson Ties (Bela Dimitrescu/Reader, Soulmate AU) Pt. 4

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: T for language Warnings: None for this chap Genre: Hurt + comfort Summary: Sure, your soulmate may be a vampire (of sorts), but there's nothing that love can't conquer, right?... Maybe it's time you learn a little more about the odd circumstances of your soulmate's existence- and the fear that lies beneath the surface. Notes: If the last chapter was "hurt" followed by comfort, this is "comfort" followed by hurt, also known as the part where the story's central conflict comes into play. Features an appearance from Daniela, who reminds us that Cassandra's not the only one with a sharp tongue around here. Previous Chapters: 1: Stem the Flow, 2: Tangled Strands, 3: Rumbling Thunder

4: That Which Burns

“Of all the stars, the fairest,” Bela murmurs in your ear, keeping her arms wrapped loosely around your waist, before giving you a gentle kiss on the cheek. If you hadn’t already been blushing, you certainly would have now done so. You’re leaning into her touch, face flushed as can be, loving every moment of this. For a while now you’ve been curled up with her, while she reads excerpts from her favorite works. Although both of you would have preferred to do this outside, enjoying the view of the stars, you figured it would be best not to push your health too much. After all, you had lost a huge percentage of your blood. Well, temporarily, but it was still better to be safe than sorry.

“That’s probably my favorite line from Sappho,” you chimed, fondly remembering some of your schooling. “Though the one about being remembered always stands out to me. I’m not sure I remember it correctly, and I’m sure it’s been translated a few different ways over the years… but I think it’s ‘someone, I tell you, will remember us in another time’. Might have gotten that backwards, actually.” Giving an awkward little smile, you sheepishly rub the back of your head with one hand. “Either way it feels so romantic. To think of a love so strong that it echoes throughout time, fondly remembered for generations… it warms the heart.”

“Mhmm, most definitely, my dear. Many aren’t as lucky, however,” Bela laments, an odd expression crawling onto her face. There’s the slightest waver to her lower lip as she speaks. Concerned, you turn in place to get a better look, gently reaching out to caress her cheek. Is there something I’m missing? You think, wondering what you should say. “I’m alright, I promise. Merely distracted by a fleeting thought. Let’s read another, yes?” Before you can protest, she’s already turned to another page, starting to read as if she already knew which one was next (which would not, at all, surprise you).

Love shook my heart, Like the wind on the mountain, Troubling the oak-trees

“Oh, if only I could speak Aeolic Greek, so that I could serenade you with tender prose, all the days of your life… just as it was originally written. Wouldn’t that be lovely?” Bela offers, once again smiling wide, as if nothing in the world was wrong, at least not when you were by her side. Though you are not keen to ignore her earlier stroke of misery, you are equally reluctant to put a damper on her current upswing. Now what were you to do? Little comes to mind, other than the simplicity of human warmth, and so you lean once more into her embrace, head held aloft on the strength of her shoulder.

“Here, as I am now, is more than lovely enough. Your voice is soothing in any language, sweet as sugar, relaxing as can be,” you reassure her in your softest tone. Heart fluttering, she finds herself easing back into the comfort of the moment, forgetting all about her earlier woes. “Shall we read another?” Nodding, Bela again turns the page and begins to read:

He’s equal with the gods, that man Who sits across from you, Face to face, close enough to sip Your voice’s sweetness

And what excites my mind, Your laughter, glittering. So, When I see you, for a moment, My voice goes,

My tongue freezes. Fire, Delicate fire, in the flesh. Blind, stunned, the sound Of thunder, in my ears.

Shivering with sweat, cold Tremors over the skin, I turn the colour of dead grass, And I’m an inch from dying.

“Does that make me equal to the gods, then?” You ask, as soon as the last line is given its moment to shine. A small hum comes from your soulmate, who seems equal parts intrigued and confused. “I look in your eyes and my lungs light on fire, my heart ricochets around my chest, and I hear the chorus of angels singing your holy praises. The fact that I can manage to speak at all is confounding. Maybe the muses have seen fit to lend me their artistry, so that I might make conversation worthy of your existence, my dear.” With that said, you find yourself being squeezed gently, Bela placing another kiss against the top of your head. Now, it seems she is the one without the ability to speak. “The divine witnessing the divine, yes?... Let me read the next one, and we’ll see if my voice could ever compare to your own.”

It’s innocent enough, your choice. A turn of the page, just another poem, selected for nothing more than respect for chronology. Yet something drains from the space around you as you begin to read, so subtly slow that you hardly notice.

Girls, you be ardent for the fragrant-blossomed Muses’ lovely gifts, for the clear melodious lyre: But now old age has seized my tender body, Now my hair is white, and no longer dark

How were you to realize that the great shadow of fear loomed over your soulmate, when she had refused to name it mere minutes ago? How were you to know to halt your reciting, when the aching of her heart rendered her throat dry, and she could not bring herself to call out to you? Words poured like poisoned wine from your lips… your soulmate having no choice but to drink up every last drop.

My heart’s heavy, my legs won’t support me, That once were fleet as fawns, in the dance I grieve often for my state; what can I do? Being human, there’s no way not to grow old

A shaky breath from age-old lungs, exhaled into tense air, forced out past a trembling jaw. Say something, Bela tells herself, any poem but this. For a split second you pause, and she wonders if her thoughts have found new light in your own mind. But you break the momentary silence without much care, simply having been unsure of your pending pronunciation of an old name, perfectly unaware of your partner’s panic.

Rosy-armed Dawn, they say, love-smitten Once carried Tithonus off to the world’s end: Handsome and young he was then, yet at last Grey age caught that spouse of an immortal wife

At last her ordeal was over. The final words hang heavy in the air, weighing down her shoulders, but they are done. Her fears had been dragged out from the pit in her stomach, now waving about like dirty laundry. There was only one way for her to avoid this happening another time: Tell you the truth. By now her silence had earned your attention, with you turning in her lap again, concerned gaze meeting her hollow one. Gently, she gives you a reassuring squeeze.

“I… am not one to balk at the nature of things, however painful the truth. Yet I hesitate now, with the very person I am bound to with crimson ties… How cowardly of me,” Bela all but snarls, anger clearly not directed at you. It’s clear in the way that she holds herself that she has more to say. There’s not much you can do other than wait, though you do tuck an arm around her waist, beginning to rub soft circles against her back. “Allow me to drop the pretenses. You are not immortal, but I am. We’ve only been together for a day and a half, and already I’m worrying about your lifespan. It’s safe to say that this particular poem was an unfriendly reminder of our situation.”

Oh. How exactly were you supposed to respond to that?... Your girlfriend- your soulmate- was immortal. Hmph, as if her essentially being a vampire hadn’t already been enough to freak you out. Now this? Well, maybe it wasn’t too much farther of a stretch from the last revelation, even if you were still recovering from that one. Even then, something told you that this was equally hard for Bela- both to say, and to simply feel. As if she needed more stress surrounding her partnership with you…

“Of all the ways for us to mimic legends… I don’t even know what to say, my dear. I… I suppose that I can only reassure you that we will make the most of every moment we have. However much time we are destined to get, we’ll make sure it is filled with bliss,” you reply, slowly, making it up as you go. An ache builds in the center of your chest as you talk, an internal yearning for greater confidence. Although words were your “weapon” of choice, you were not always a master in your use of them, too human to be infallible. “Maybe we should set aside the poetry for now, shift our focus to something, ah, less meaningful?”

“That would be for the best,” Bela agrees, already shifting like she was going to stand up, before you even had a chance to get off of her lap. Something strange had fallen over her expression, an invisible veil, putting an uncomfortable distance between the two of you. Inside your chest, a thundering heart threatens to go still. Had you done something wrong? Did you commit some unspoken sin? Together the two of you rise, in sync yet more separate than before, a thousand questions and anxieties rendering both of you silent...

—————————

Across the room from you, a pair of bright eyes watch your every movement, peering out from over an open book. If you didn’t know better, you might have thought that the “ruse” was intentionally poor. But for all the five hours you had known her, Daniela Dimitrescu had done nothing other than prove herself odd, clumsy, and quite possibly… overconfident. Admittedly, that still made her undeniably more pleasant than Cassandra. If you had to be stuck alongside someone other than your soulmate, well, ‘twas best that it was this strange redheaded gremlin. Even if she had expressed an unfortunate interest in eating you.

Gods, what is wrong with this family? You think, frowning a tad, unable to stop yourself from making eye contact with Daniela. Instantly she’s looking away, pretending to be engrossed within her book. The very same book that had remained open to the same page for half an hour now. I do hope Bela is having more fun right now, with whatever “business” called her away so unexpectedly. She hadn’t seemed happy to have to leave your side, earlier tension notwithstanding. Coming here to the library had been her suggestion, though you doubted she knew that Daniela was there, or at least hadn’t anticipated her sister’s unnerving behavior. Already the redhead was looking back at you, even less subtly than before.

Sighing, you decided that you could only put up with so much of this tomfoolery.

“Are you in need of something? Or is there something on my face?” You ask, setting your own book aside as you do. There’s a few moments of silence, as Daniela glances around the room, as if you might actually be speaking to someone else. When no scapegoats teleport to her rescue, she very awkwardly clears her throat, then moves to sit at your table. Though you are loath to admit it, your heart starts beating faster as she approaches. Not out of attraction, hell no, rather fear. Perhaps getting her attention hadn’t been the wisest choice after all…

“I just think it’s funny,” Daniela chimes, trailing off just long enough to run a finger down the length of your arm, “that Bela abandoned you so quickly. You’re so… fragile. Cassandra told me about the fun little introduction you had to our family- the blood loss, being chained up, the fear you felt when you got caught in our territory.” Suddenly she’s devolving into a fit of giggles, hand resting not-so-gently on your wrist. When you try to pull away, her nails dig in, and her gaze snaps back to your own. “But you don’t remember that part, do you? If you did… oh, we’d have to lock you up, like the little pet you are, to keep you from running away. I’m sure Bela wouldn’t mind seeing you in chains.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” You snap, uncharacteristically furious. While it was true that you couldn’t recall exactly how you made it into the castle’s dungeons, you refuse to accept Daniela’s implications about your soulmate, or her assessment of your dedication. A brief second passes where you think she’s about to lunge towards you. Instead, she withdraws her hand, moving it to prop up her chin instead. Then, her lips slowly drag upwards into a wicked grin, wide eyes filled with dangerous amusement.

“So you’re more than a wannabe Shakespeare, after all? A bit more teeth, a touch more vulgarity, maybe a twinge of bloodlust, and you might actually fit in around here. Not enough to get our family’s ‘gift’- our secret to a long, happy life- but enough that Bela won’t grow bored of your sappy poems,” she teases with another string of laughter. Before you can question her about this ‘gift’, she’s all but jumping to her feet, stretching out her arms as she does. “I can’t wait to update Cassandra about you. We’ll be betting on how entertaining you’ll end up being. Try to keep from bailing on my dear sister too soon, alright?”

Just like that she’s disappearing into a swarm of flies, leaving you more confused (and angry) than ever. Taking a deep breath, you try to focus on what you need to do next: Find Bela. Talk to her. Get some goddamn answers.

[pendragon-of-chaos]

Just your heartbeat

Arthur Pendragon NNT x Doctor!femS/O

Warnings: None

Author’s note: This is my first post here, and i don’t think I will post much because i don’t have the imagination to make it a hobby, but my asks will be open if someone wants to send me a request or something. Just keep in mind I will mostly do it slowly! Headcanons or scenarios are valid!

Arthur is one of my biggest husbandos but he doesn’t get the same attention as the rest of the characters, so I just felt the necessity of publishing this one shot I imagined, hoping that my fellow Arthur stans like it! English isn’t my first language so I’m sorry if there are some errors. Feedback would be great!

Word count: 1515

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Life isn't easy when your castle, and practically the whole city, is being occupied by the demon clan. The Camelot population was forced to live in an underground bunker while the Holy War happens in Britannia, and as their King, Arthur dedicates his time in doing surveillance rounds, accompanied by Cath, Nanashi, and some of his knights.

He always had incredible abilities in combat, specially with swords, thanks to Merlin's training. However, when this situacion started he couldn't do much except to ask his comrades for help so the number of demons around the city wouldn't ascend. I'm saying at first, because thanks to the passing of time and Nanashi's experience, now he can take out a good bunch of demons all by himself without breaking a sweat.

Or at least the majority of times.

Because of his impulssive nature, acheing for adventures and new challenges, the young King ended up today more bruised than expected.

"King Arthur, you're back!" - Announced one of the villagers  who were standing next to the doors which led to one of the main rooms in the underground city. More villagers gathered around the doors until they were completely opened - "Did you have any problems? It's been a while since we saw you looking like that"

Arthur's clothes were dirtier than usual, with some tears here and there. You could even see some small bruises in his face, but nothing big enough to worry at first sight.

"Don't worry! I may have been a little bit careless, but I'm fine, and I also could defeat some dozens of demons as usual!" - Replied the young King with his cheerful and enthusiastic self, puffing up his chest in a prideful way. At least until a sudden pain made him stop and cough while taking his hand to his chest, leaving the people watching him concerned

"I will go get some of the leftovers from lunch, please don't overwork yourself" - Said one of the women while she returned to the dining room along some more.

"You should get checked by (Y/N), just to be sure that you don't have mayor injuries".

Arthur couldn't help being nervous when he heard (Y/N)'s name. He was a carefree and adventurous boy, working on his strengh since he got separated from the seven deadly sins to protect his people; but he still had weaknesses, and (Y/N) was one of them.

How could he not fall in love with her? She was sweet, helpful and loved by the town. He had visited her more than once and her voice alone made him feel butterflies. With the passing of time it became more difficult to see her, He could barely hide his feelings and that embarrased him even more.

"I insist, it is nothing! I'm sure the pain will fade away the moment I rest-" - His excuses were interrumpted by Nanashi, who got closer to check him with a look

"It wouldn't hurt you doing a little check up. Besides, it's not only for your wellness, it's also for Camelot's people since they want to see you healthy. You are their protector after all"

Arthur couldn't do much besides nodding while scratching his head and look at the ground; knowing well that it wouldnt matter whatever he had to say, because they would keep insisting until they were sure that their King was in full condition

"Well, if that majes you happy, I'll go right now..." - He looked up as the villagers started to nod and continued with their chores. Once the crowd dissipated he walked to the nearest table so he could put down the basket where Cath was, and then he set course to (Y/N)'s room. In front of it, the King took a deep breath to gather the courage and knocked on the door

“Come in!” – A cheerful voice spoke from inside. (Y/N) kept looking to the door from her seat across the room, until Arthur appeared – “Your Majesty! It’s been a while since the last time you came here, did something go wrong?” – She stood up and bowed to greet him.

Arthur closed the door behind him, smiling gently at her – “I told you to call me Arthur, we know each other well. And, I just got slightly hit while patrolling, but they forced me to visit you” – He ended with a nervous smile – “I didn’t mean to bother you!”

(Y/N) listened carefully and made a gesture with her hand, inviting him to take a seat on the bed so she could observe him well.

“You don’t bother, it’s my work to make sure nobody is ill or hurt after all” – Arthur took off his sword so he could sit comfortably, waiting until (Y/N) got closer to his face – “Hmm, just some bruises and cuts, as usual, they will heal fast” – (Y/N) looked into his eyes, smiling relieved, making it imposible for Arthur to hide the sudden blush on his face. Once done, she stepped back.

“I already told them that it was nothing to worry about, but it’s nice to confirm it”

“However, your clothes show signs of combat. Are you sure it doesn’t hurt in any other place?”

“I’ve only felt a sudden pain in my chest” – He said while pointing at himself, right where he felt it – “But I don’t think it’s really important”.

“I see… I can’t allow myself to let you go without being completely sure you are alright, so please, take off your shirt so I can auscultate you” – And with that said, (Y/N) turned around so she could get her stethoscope.

Arthur followed her words and left his clothes to the side embarrased, preparing himself for (Y/N)’s next move. What he didn’t know was that (Y/N) was doing the exact same thing, and she was thankful of having turned her back on Arthur so he couldn’t see her face. After all, she couldn’t deny she had a little crush on the young King.

Once prepared, (Y/N) turned around and went back to sit next to Arthur, looking at his chest.

“You do have a bruise where you pointed some seconds ago” – She adjusted the stethoscope in her ears, pressing the metalic end on Arthur’s back, causing him to shiver at the sudden cold – “Take a deep breath please”

While (Y/N) listened carefully pressing on his back, Arthur looked to the wall in front of him. His only mission right now was avoinding getting nervous again, but (Y/N)’s closeness and the intrusive thoughts which claimed that (Y/N) had indeed noticed his blush a few minutes ago made it difficult for him. The more he tried to avoid those thoughts, the more he realized he was in love with her. Just a few seconds later he felt the metal on his chest, fearing the worst.

His fast heartbeat didn’t go unnoticed. (Y/N) frowned a little. Could it be because he just came back of fighting? Maybe, but his calm behaviour said otherwise.

Worried, (Y/N) stayed a few more seconds listening to his heart, to make sure her ears weren’t fooling her, until she got up, pulled away and took off her stethoscope – “Your lungs are alright, but there’s something worrying me, your heart is beating faster than it should… that could mean you have an internal wound…”

Yup, she got him. At least she didn’t think about the reason being him crushing on her. Besides, (Y/N) supossed that being Arthur a King, there wasn’t any hope for her, so she simply thought that there was an unknown problem with him.

“Like I said, they’re just some bruises” – Arthur took his clothes and dressed quickly, getting up and looking at (Y/N) – “Thanks to you I even feel better! I’ll go right now to inform the people there is nothing to worry about” – He walked to the door and before he could open it (Y/N)’s voice made him stop and turn around slightly

“Even so, come back in a while! I want to be sure it really isn’t anything dangerous”

Arthur could feel her concern in her words, adding fuel to his feelings

“Later? Even if I feel alright?” – (Y/N) nodded, laughing at Arthur’s stubborness.

“Even if you feel alright. And if you don’t come back, I will search for you”

Arthur sighed softly with a smile- “In that case I will be back in some hours so you don’t have to worry more than necessary, and you will see that I’m as well as always!” – Laughing he opened the door and said goodbye until he was out of the room.

Another blush appeared again in his cheeks thinking about what he agreed to do. Coming back? Knowing him, he will be caught again, and he can’t make excuses forever. He better learn to relax himself or he would end up having to confess his feelings without being prepared.

In her room, (Y/N) sat again on her chair  leaning on the table with a goofy grin, wishing that those heartbeats where for her; and without knowing (at least for now) that indeed, it was like that.

[animeyanderelover]

Hello again! Can I have prompt 46 with Ash? Tnx

Recently I told my friend that I had a lot of requests about him and she laughed about it. She doesn't really like him, but she gives him credit since he looks good.

Tw: Yandere themes, unhealthy mindset, unhealthy relationship, possessiveness, obsessiveness, delusions, extreme paranoia, isolation, desperation, mentions of kidnapping,overprotectiveness, mentions of self-harm, Stockholm syndrome

Prompt 46: "Can I...can I kiss you?"

It was nothing less than a miracle that someone like you existed, someone who was cleansed from all the sins of this world and the corruption of humans. You were radiating with everything Ash had wanted for this world, a world that he wanted to give to you. It was the minimum from what she should and would do for you, it was his duty as your very own guardian angel. A role he was utterly dedicated too, devoted to his very own angel who forgave him his sins every time.

It was true, you had forgiven him his crimes already a long time ago as everything around you had started to fade away and you had lost count of how long exactly you had been stuck in here. Somewhere around one and a half years would be your expectation, looking on how the seasons had changed through the large and closed windows which symbolized your loss of freedom. But you didn't mind anymore.

You only needed and wanted Ash, your guardian angel.

There was clear tension in his body, you could feel how he stiffened up under your embrace. He had never really received that sort of affection before from anyone nor would he have ever wanted it from all those worthless lives walking around freely. You were the only person he actually wanted any sort of touches from. That was how pure you were, even causing someone like him craving something and falling victim to his own desires. And it was his own fault for being so weak-minded. He didn't deserve you yet letting you perish outside would be an even greater sin. He had to keep you safe.

"My Queen...what are you doing?"

Being able to keep his composure was important in front of you, though he remembered to have failed multiple times in the past already. Severe punishment was the only thing he could think of to atone for his failures for not being good enough, for proving himself to be so incredibly useless. Even now he could feel some unhealed wounds aching a bit, but you didn't have to know about his weakness and incompetence.

You blinked slightly confused up at him when he asked you such an obvious question, but it soon turned into slight giggling that instantly plunged Ash's heart into painfully warm emotions and forced his eyes to get wet. It had taken a while until you had been able to look so happy after he had quickly rescued you from all the evil waiting to devour you. The distress he had felt back then could never be put in words and no burns, knifes and broken bones had been able to make up for what you had been suffering under. Even now it remained as a anxiety deeply stuck in his heart. But looking at you now, smiling at him and not staring with wide eyes filled with fear at him, was worth much more than his whole life could ever repay you.

"I’m hugging you. It’s just that you always look so worried and stressed over my safety and never appear to take a rest. Just now you did as well so I thought this might help you a bit. A strong hug can be more worth than thousand words after all. That’s what my mother told me at least when I was younger.”, you replied softly, pressing your face deeper into his chest with a content look on your face.

There was nothing Ash could think of for a few moments, instead he seared the scene in front of him deep into his brain, how you were currently buried into his chest, looking so happy and peaceful. So stunning and precious.

Tears were quick to escape his eyes only seconds later, his insides stirring up with warmth that stung him and yet baked him with something he hadn’t felt in so long. Comfort and peace.

This was exactly why he had to protect you with his very own life, no one was allowed to snuff out the light you carried inside of you and that was able to even share it’s warmth with him. You possessed too much kindness to understand, but normal humans only destroyed what they touched, ruining it with their greed.

He wouldn’t let them do the same to you.

He would kill everyone who would even do as much as getting too close.

He just had to guarantee that you would live.

But first of all he had to calm himself down or otherwise he might worry you even more than he seemed to have done already. The tears were quickly wiped away with his sleeves before Ash was able to look at you again, still feeling like he wanted to continue crying. His heart felt like it might burst at any moment.

“You have so much warmth and love inside of you that I don’t think I deserve any of it. You shouldn’t even be concerned about me, I merely do what I have to do as your guardian. If you were to fall victim to this damned place, I would perish as well. What use is an angel who can’t even protect their chosen one?”

Pain was twisting his voice and face a bit when he dared to imagine how a world without you would be, a world filled with grief and darkness for him. Letting his guard down would be a fatal mistake, he had seen the worst of this world and the humans and he knew that it would happen again. That was why he had to be like this for you were his heart beating outside his chest. If something were to ever happen to you...

The angel hadn't even noticed that he had already started crying again, fist tightened and body shaking whilst getting lost in fears of losing the one good and bright thing this world had still left.

"But for me you're more than just a guardian angel. You're my angel and I want you to feel happy as well. I want you to feel loved as well. You do so much for me, but I feel like I only cause you stress and uneasiness. Shouldn't you be happy because of me?", you asked him in slight protest, feeling sadness whilst seeing the man you had come to love like this again because of you. You had never seen him truly relaxed nor had you ever been able to show him your feelings. He wouldn't let you, not thinking that he deserved you.

His reaction was instant, suddenly falling on his knees upon hearing from what you had said that he had disappointed you yet again, the visible look of your sorrow only stabbing his fear deeper into his very soul.

"I-I am so sorry! I didn't know that you felt this way only because I was so selfish to only think about myself like this! I don't deserve your forgiveness and accept any sort of-"

When he felt the soft sensation of your hands cupping his stained cheeks, he abruptly stopped his rambling, trying to not choke on his own breath that had gotten irregular.

"You don't have to apologize to me. I don't want to hear you saying such things about yourself. Don't you understand? I am unhappy whenever you are like this, seeing yourself as so worthless and not deserving of my love. That's what hurts me so much. You're rejecting my feelings. I love you, Ash. And I want to know if you do too. Because if you do, please stop talking like this and behave so distantly."

Your voice conveyed every bit emotion that was going on inside of you in that moment, something that Ash noticed with widened eyes as well.

Silence was cut short by him when he realized that you wanted something crucial from him which he would gladly give you. He had never considered that you would ever consider his love as something you wanted, consider him as someone you loved. When had been the last time someone had been truly kind to him and loved him? He couldn't remember anymore.

"Of course I do. You should never doubt my feelings for you. I love you more than you could ever imagine. It's impossible to function without you.", he managed to reply with a shaking voice as he grabbed both of your hands in his own.

"Then why are you acting like this? Everyone deserves someone who loves them. Without love it's a very painful life, isn't it? That's why I am hurting as well. Let me love you and I promise that you'll be able to feel peace as well.", you muttered slightly embarrassed out, leaning your head down so your forehead could rest against his own.

Slight sobs were starting to catch up to Ash as he was staring in pure awe at you.

"Thank you. I'll be better and make sure that I won't cause you sadness anymore.", he pressed out, tightening his grip on your hands only the slightest bit so he wouldn't hurt you.

"I'm glad to hear that.", you replied with a sincere smile on your face, joy stirring your heart up just by seeing that for the first time since he had abducted you, Ash was looking relieved and less tense. He just looked extremely grateful.

"May I ask you for a favor then?", you requested with a certain idea in mind.

"I'll do anything for you.", Ash replied, sounding very emotional.

"I want to do something for you for once since you normally do anything for me."

Hesitation and clear dislike instantly shadowed his face, the thought of him asking something from you going against Ash's belief in all the wrong ways. You shouldn't have to do him favors.

"It doesn't have to be something difficult. It can be a really simple thing. Just...something that I can do for you this once. Please.", you begged slightly, seeing the angel already struggling. You knew how he felt about such things, he hated letting you do something for him and he had never done it before either. Ash saw it only upon himself to serve you which was another thing that sometimes made you feel guilty. You wanted to do more for him as well.

"Can I...can I kiss you?"

Maybe that had been more a slip of his tongue, but he had been slightly panicking since hadn't want to sadden you again nor had he wanted you to do physical work for him. It was supposed to be the other way around.

So when he had stared for a moment at your face, eyes locked on your lips, he had considered somewhere deep in his mind possibilities which he had been fantasizing about a few times before, but hadn't thought that they would actually have a change of happening.

In his opinion they were still sinful, it would take a while for him to get used to the idea that you wanted to receive physical affection and love from him. The first impulse when he realized what he had said was instantly apologizing, only to be interrupted before he could even start saying anything.

You had already leaned down to fulfill him his wish before he could take it back again.

[honeyxchoso]

Promise (fuckboy!Satoru Gojo x reader) (college AU)

warnings: Gojo being a fuckboy who knows his effect on women all too well, MC's declining mental health implied

genre: angst? (sfw)

word count: 1.9k

“Please, just hear me out!” Gojo begged, face contorting into a desperate expression you knew all too well by now.

The scene is just like the numerous ones you’ve experienced in the past few months, all consequential to Satoru Gojo asking you out earlier that year. You should have known better. After all, you’ve been a witness of all of his intimate endeavours throughout high school. It was naive to assume that you would be spared of his promiscuous behaviour and that, somehow, this would be different.

“I promise you it won’t happen again!”

The exclamation just fell on deaf ears. That very promise, which he never fails to make in moments like these, has lost all meaning long ago. The sincerity fading more and more each time it was broken. These conversations, which once used to reduce you to tears, have now lost all meaning they once might have possessed.

All you know is the emptiness you feel resulting from your heart being shattered over and over again, your soul reduced to nothingness. You can no longer cry. You can no longer get mad. You are no longer surprised. Just a shell of the person you once were.

No longer are you even aware of your surroundings, lost in your own mind as Gojo spouted endless dubious apologies and false promises, all of which you’ve heard dozens of times before. How many times have you turned a blind eye so far? How many second chances have you given? How much longer will this go on? You do not know.

How did it come to this?

You and Satoru are first years in an honours programme at Jujutsu college, with you majoring in Biology and him in Physical engineering. Although you had known him since your first year of high school, you two have only gotten close in the summer leading up to your first year at college. During that summer, he’s managed to get closer to you than anyone ever has before. It really isn’t that difficult to imagine considering his flamboyant personality and stunning appearance.

Right now, you were at a cafe, waiting for Mr Perfect to show up for your weekly Math and Chem study session. You chuckle looking at a meme he just texted you. The lovely bastard is fashionably late per usual, but you are somehow never annoyed at that nasty habit of his. Five minutes of texting later, you feel a tap on your shoulder alerting you of Satoru’s arrival. Soon after the tap, you can feel his presence on the left side of your head.

“I think you can kiss heaven goodbye, as it must be a sin to look that good,” he proudly stated right next to you. You gazed to the side with widened eyes and your mouth slightly agape. It was just quick enough for you to catch a glimpse of those gorgeous sky blue eyes of his, mischievously peeking up at you from the pitch-black sunglasses the man always adorned. It truly was a sight to behold. To your great misfortune, however, it was gone as soon as it came, with him rising up to ruffle your hair a bit with his enormous hand before going to sit at the other end of your small table.

You focused on regaining your usual composure, as you’ve grown accustomed to his flirty persona during the summer while observing him picking up girls wherever you went. His sense of humour is just atrocious, but it eventually grew on you also. Despite his provocative behaviour and dirty humour implying he’s still very much immature for anything of the sort, you’ve started harbouring hope that one day, just maybe, he’ll give it a shot for you. Yes, as naive as it was, you couldn’t help but fall for the marvellous man sitting across from you.

You sighed at your inner turmoil and slightly irritably ran a hand through your hair. Satoru, of course, interpreted your reaction as you being annoyed at his borderline foul compliment and the thought elicited a deep, alluring chuckle from him. Slightly shaken from the beautiful sound, you plastered on a smile and looked at him, asking to begin your study session already since he was late again.

Two hours of studying later, you two were walking back to the student dorms on the other end of the campus site making small talk on your way.

“Argh! I hate this unit so much. Why do we have to memorise all the functional groups when it would be so much easier to just look them up in the data booklet during exams? It is so unnecessary!” you cried out, pouting while clenching your fists in exasperation. When Satoru didn’t respond, you relaxed your posture and turned to address him, only to blank out upon seeing the way he was staring at you.

He had a tender look on his face the likes of which you’ve never seen before. His lips formed into a small but genuine smile with his eyes relaxed as he just looked at you. You felt as though he was staring right into your soul. At this point, you both stopped walking instinctively and held your eyes locked wishing for the tender moment to last forever. Satoru was the first to speak up.

He called your name, not breaking eye contact. You just barely took notice of his voice, getting lost in his gorgeous blue eyes during your little moment just now. God, does your name sound good coming from his mouth. You barely had the common sense at this point to utter out a small “Hm?” and no notion whatsoever of what was yet to come.

“Would you like to go out with me sometime?”

You were baffled. The person you’ve been crushing on for months now just asked you out. You. Little old insignificant you. Too startled to form a coherent response, you replied with the only concern you had. “Me?”

After all, you were a nobody. You’ve seen the women who talk to him on a daily basis. The perfect height, athletic, well-adorned in all sorts of jewellery and fancy clothes, makeup perfectly done and never a single strand of hair out of place - those were the type of women surrounding Satoru Gojo. Compared to them, you were the lowest of the low. Your face contorted into one of confusion before your eyes started tearing up. This must be a joke...

That was only in the few seconds leading up to Satoru bursting out in a tear-inducing laugh. This did well to break you out of your small trance, sobering up a little before becoming even more confused. He asked you out, and now he’s laughing about it? Is this man in his right senses? You don’t recall him having any alcoholic beverages at the cafe so it can’t be. He stopped laughing soon after and used the tip of his right-hand sleeve to wipe away his tears.

“Of course it’s you, silly! It’s 10pm. We’re the only ones here right now!” he exclaimed, giggling a bit throughout forming his sentence still. This only served to confuse you even more. It must be a joke, then.

“You’re joking,” you voiced your thoughts. At this, his formerly happy expression fell and formed into one of concern.

“How could I be?” he asked. Seeming genuinely concerned as to why you’d think that. His eyebrows furrowed and his lips formed an unusual frown. “How could I ever joke about something like that? You have no clue what you mean to me, Y/N.” You could tell from his expression that he was being sincere, making you falter. Your face seemed to be enough of a response for him to continue speaking.

“You are honestly the best person I have ever met. You are strong and independent despite everything life has thrown at you. You are smarter than anyone I know. You have an amazing sense of humour and are a great listener. You’ve always been there for me when I needed you most. Along with being a good person, you also make me a better person myself. You fulfil me. Without you, I feel my very existence would be meaningless.” All the while saying this, he hasn’t broken eye contact once. “So I will ask you once again, Y/N, will you go out with me?

Following that evening, the two of you were in a happy relationship.

So how did it turn into this?

You first noticed something was wrong when you saw him dancing really close with a girl at a college party. He had his left hand low on her waist and his other hand entangled in her hair, bringing her closer so he could lean into her neck. It was just an embrace, right? Perhaps she was his friend who needed comfort of some sort? These are the excuses you made for yourself at the time to console the slight pang of concern and betrayal felt upon witnessing that scene. You never confronted him about that. At the time, you told yourself that was because there was no issue to address but reflecting on that moment now, you know it was the fear of your suspicion being proven right that discouraged you from bringing it up.

This happened about an additional five or six times before you started acting a bit more adverse to Satoru’s usual affection. You would no longer initiate kisses and would become stiff in his embrace. It was mortifying to know he was behaving so naturally around you when you know he’s off with other women when he thinks you aren’t looking. Despite this, the relationship was maintained as your love for him didn’t falter.

After a while, his endeavours would cause arguments. He would argue the women were coming onto him, that he was drunk or anything of the sort, just to get out of the situation, and you would argue he was fully aware of his promiscuous behaviour. These arguments would always end in forgiveness and the movie would rewind yet again. That is what led you where you are now. Your forgiving nature backfired and your feelings for the man were constantly extorted.

Sometimes, enough is enough.

It is time to put a stop to this neverending loop your relationship has turned into.

“Stop,” Satoru was still pleading for forgiveness when you interrupted him mid-sentence. Your simple exclamation seemingly pausing time, as it was the first word you have uttered in this conversation so far. Gojo looked at you anxiously, hope evident in his eyes that you would forgive him. Oh, how you loved those eyes of his, full of deceit.

“I’ve had enough. I’ve given you far too many chances and have been disappointed every time without fail. It is time for both of us to admit to ourselves that this won’t work. Not the way it is now.”

Despite your calm exterior, your previously empty inside now felt a sharp, anxious pain. No one said it was going to be easy. While the fear of change is strong, you know this is the right thing to do. Fear can bring no actual harm, but this relationship has and will continue to do so if you don’t put a stop to it. It is time.

“Goodbye, Satoru Gojo.”

[write-r-die]

Prisoner - Part 14

February, 1067

Henry Cavill is a respected Norman baron who has been tasked with finding Lady Thomasin, an ill-tempered Saxon noblewoman, and returning her to London so the king can marry her off to a cruel Norman invader. The two grow close during the long journey, and Henry puts his own life in danger (more than once) to protect the woman he loves.

Masterlist

This chapter sucks but it’s about to get super good!

Thomasin went straight to church in the morning to confess. She liked and trusted Elaine, but she wasn’t comfortable sharing her innermost thoughts with her yet, especially since her daughter was likely to eavesdrop. 

Not that she particularly trusted William’s priest to keep her confidence, especially considering what she planned to confess.

Her conversation with Charlie pricked at her mind like a sewing needle hidden in a bed might prick at her body.

Thomasin lowered herself to her knees and made the sign of the cross. “Bless me, Father, for I have sinned. It has been three months since my last confession.” It was the custom to confess at least once a month, but the past year’s events had altered everyone’s routines.

“What are your sins, daughter?”

“I have been unkind. I have blasphemed. I have not loved my neighbors. I have not kept the Sabbath day. I have been . . . amorous.” These were mostly the same sins as usual, but the amorousness was a new addition thanks to that week she spent in Henry’s lap. “That’s all I can remember.”

“Are you sure of that?” asked the priest.

Thomasin took a deep breath. “No. I have not yet - that is, I’m considering another sin. You won’t betray my confidence, Father, will you? That must surely be a sin. Is it not?”

“It is. No, child, I won’t betray your confidence and share your secrets. What is this sin you consider?”

“I’m thinking of . . . lying . . . to the king.”

There was a long pause on the other end of the curtain. “Explain.”

All at once, Thomasin’s story came rushing out starting with the night the Cavills took her prisoner to Charlie’s idea that she lie to the king about her virginity. “And I know I mustn’t bear false witness against my neighbor, but I am not bearing false witness against my neighbor, only myself. You see?”

The priest was silent for a long time. “Would it truly be so bad to marry Lawrence?”

“Yes!” He drove his wife to commit self-murder. Didn’t he? He didn’t seem actively cruel. Did he truly become so angry that he beat his wife until she lost the child in her belly? It seemed to Thomasin that he couldn’t be bothered to do such a thing, that he didn’t feel anything strongly enough to act in such a way – to act at all, really.

“I think so,” Thomasin amended. “I can’t be sure. But it cannot be good.” Of that, she was quite certain. 

“Is that the only reason you don’t wish to marry him?” asked the priest.

“There’s Henry, too, of course.” She swallowed hard. “I cannot bear the thought of Henry being with someone else.” The words stuck in her dry throat like fish bones. Lord. That was the first time she’d admitted it. It was painfully true. The idea of Henry bedding another woman, her bearing his children – it made her sick to her stomach. 

The priest sighed. “It is never easy to follow God’s laws. We all must make sacrifices to enter His Kingdom, for the road to Heaven is narrow and steep.”

“You think I ought to marry Lawrence? Don’t you know what happened to his last wife?”

“Seek solace in the spiritual world. Devote yourself to God. It is through Him that you will find comfort and joy.”

Thomasin had to literally bite her tongue to keep from lashing out. Wouldn’t God want His children to be happy? Didn’t He want Lawrence to be punished?

The priest told her to recite certain prayers to atone for her sins. She thanked him as graciously as possible and nearly stomped out of the chapel. 

She was being childish, she knew, but she could not help it. Most girls were married off at fourteen to men they did not know. She was some twenty years old and unwed. She spent her life being coddled and guarded by her father. And now she was a piece of chattel to be traded by men who did not know her or care for her wellbeing. 

She knew in her heart that Henry wouldn’t let that happen. He’d give his arm for her if she asked him to. But it might not be enough. 

She believed that he was a finer swordsman that Lawrence – better than even King William, perhaps – but she also believed his honor made him vulnerable. Henry might be the finer warrior, but she suspected Lawrence had a great and dark mind. That could be just as dangerous. Sometimes more so.

Henry ordered her to let him deal with the matter. It was the only thing he ever truly asked of the woman he held so dearly and treated with such generosity and respect. But if it was in her power to preserve the life and limb of the man to whom she owed her own, how could she not? Surely he would understand. He must.

***

The next few days numbered among the most difficult in Thomasin’s life. She felt sick even after her courses passed; she’d worked herself into a fine state. She had an episode like this when she was young, around the time of her mother’s death. The healer, a monk, called it hysteria. She’d been blessedly free of it since then – it didn’t even happen when her father got sick – but now it was back, and it would not go away.

One of the Saxon prisoners died – of what, Thomasin did not know – and two more pledged their loyalty to William, even though it meant giving up everything they owned, including their dignity. They made their pledge in front of the entire court just before supper.

Thomasin and Henry were seated at the table at opposite sides, one chair over from each other. They could steal glances at one another during the meal, but they could not speak. Thomasin supposed that was the point. 

Lawrence had taken to sitting next to her most nights. They didn’t speak. Lawrence had ceased with the pleasantries after her comment about his last wife. He ignored her as much as possible, but he sneered whenever she spoke. 

Thomasin understood that he didn’t want this any more than she did, but he needed a wife to produce heirs and Thomasin was a gift from the king. He couldn’t refuse. He did still get pleasure out of the arrangement, for seeing him with Thomasin upset Henry to the point where he could hardly hold back his anger. Between Henry’s jealousy and Thomasin’s feistiness, conquering her was sure to be excellent sport.

The Saxon knights came forward and fell to their knees before the king and his wife and made their pledges. The other Saxons in attendance – mostly women, but a handful of warriors and former nobles that pledged themselves to the Normans early on – showed a range of emotions. Some of the men applauded their brothers for being sensible; others appeared to be ashamed. Most of the women looked like the wanted the whole thing over and done with, especially Elaine, who knew most of the Saxon prisoners either from tending their wounds or meeting them at court before the Norman invasion.

Henry’s reaction was surprising. He glared at the trencher of food in front of him, nostrils flared and jaw clenched as though he were the one being forced to swallow his pride. Thomasin made no effort to hide her concern, and neither did Charlie.

He, of course, knew about Cerdic’s presence in the dungeon, and he worried that Henry would allow his emotions to get the best of him. Frankly, he didn’t understand why Henry was so upset. He thought Cerdic was dead already; soon enough he would be. Perhaps he was feeling guilty for his part in the conquest. Thomasin had his head in knots. 

During the applause that followed the oaths, Henry shoved away from the table and made a beeline for the main doors without offering any excuse or explanation.

Thomasin looked quizzically at Charlie, who sat directly across from her. He shook his head. She stood up and went after him anyway.

The large corridor was mostly empty, except for a young couple kissing deeply in a shadowed corner and a handful of female servants walking back and forth between the hall and the kitchens. They gossiped as they walked, paying no attention to those around them.

“Henry,” Thomasin called, scurrying over to him. He had his shoulder leaned against the wall and he was rubbing his face with his hand.

He looked up at the sound of Thomasin’s voice and gave a weary smile. “You should not have followed me,” Henry said, trying to sound stern; he just sounded tired. He caught sight of his ring hanging from the chain around Thomasin’s neck. He held it in his hand, still hanging from her neck, and smiled slightly. 

“You followed me when I ran off in the woods,” she said. “I’m only returning the favor.”

“Or exacting your revenge,” Henry teased.

Thomasin shrugged her narrow shoulders and repeated Henry’s earlier words back to him. “It’s a matter of perspective.”

“This looks very fine on you,” Henry said of the ring. 

“Will you have a pendant made for me like your brothers’ wives and your mother?”

“Patience,” he said teasingly. In fact, he had commissioned a jeweler shortly after arriving in London, though the piece’s production was delayed because Henry didn’t have his ring to show the jeweler. Instead, he had to provide the man with his shield so he could study the symbols painted on it. It wouldn’t be very pretty, he thought, but as long as it was recognizable it didn’t matter.

He knew better than to seek to borrow Charlie’s ring when he arrived. He would lend it to Henry if he asked him to, but he’d certainly put up a fuss about it.

And then he remembered the Saxon awaiting his death three floors below them.

Henry’s smile faltered. 

“What’s wrong?” Thomasin murmured. 

Seeing Cerdic, simply knowing that he was alive and nearby, upset Henry. As far as he could tell, the man was a boar, and it would be no great loss to the world for him to die. But it still bothered him.

Cerdic didn’t know about Henry’s relationship with Thomasin, her betrothal to Lawrence, or even that she was at court. He had no fondness for Thomasin, it seemed, and he would certainly not treat her with respect if they were wed, but he was still a living reminder of the life the Normans stole from her. That Henry stole from her. He sometimes felt that Thomasin was as much a prisoner as her former intended.

She cared for Henry, of course, but he wondered how much of her affection was true – true, in that it would still be there if she were free of Norman rule – if she had the option to return home to her father and go on living as she did before.

More than that, he worried how Thomasin would feel if she knew Cerdic was here. He swore Roger and Charlie to secrecy, of course. Lawrence didn’t know of his intended’s former relationship with the red-bearded prisoner – if he did, he would surely use that information to inflict pain.

“The Saxons . . .” Henry shook his head. “I’m so tired of all this fighting.”

Thomasin took a deep breath knowing she was about to start a fight. “Then why do you insist on fighting Lawrence?”

Henry’s nostrils flared in anger; he let the ring fall back into place. “Don’t start.”

“I’m not trying to start anything,” she said apologetically. She stepped closer as he started pacing in a circle, one hand on his hip as he rubbed his brow with the other. His hair, still short by Saxon standards, was a small pile of tumbling curls stacked atop his head. But he still looked so handsome. “I just . . . I’m just . . .”

“Just what?”

“I’m frightened! All right?!” How dare he make her say it out loud?

Henry stopped pacing. He tried to soften his features, but he was still stiff with nervousness. “It will be all right, Tom. Nothing will happen to you.”

“I don’t care about me!” she hissed. “I want to protect you just as much as you wish to protect me. Why won’t you let me?”

Henry was lost. “How?”

Kal let loose a warning bark that nearly made Thomasin jump. She hadn’t even realized he was in the hall with them. “Go,” she said to Henry. “I need a moment to compose myself.”

Henry slipped past her just as Lawrence came into view, carrying a goblet of wine in one hand and holding the other behind his back. Henry tensed his muscles so hard he nearly shook. Thomasin nodded silently to assure him that she was all right. Henry stomped back into the hall as Lawrence took a long drink from his goblet of wine.

“Would you like some?” he asked Thomasin.

“No, thank you.”

“Very well.” He tapped his fingernail against the rim of the glass. “You remember the nobleman’s family that I put to death?” he asked, lifting the cup to his lips again.

What sort of a question was that? “Yes.”

“Do you think they would’ve been better off alive, surrounded by lustful soldiers?” Lawrence asked calmly. “Do you think the baroness would be pleased to see her young daughters beaten and defiled in the same home where she was once mistress? It was a mercy killing in some ways.”

Thomasin was silent. She’d considered such questions for months after the Normans landed up until the night Henry lifted her out of her hiding place. She always concluded that she would rather be dead than passed around like a brood mare. 

 “You’d never have been so lucky. That would’ve been your fate if the king weren’t so set on bringing your brother to heel, which he clearly cannot, and if anyone but the Cavills had come for you, you would’ve been tied and beaten into submission and raped nightly, not carried about like a babe with your virtue intact.”

“I know that,” Thomasin snapped. What was his point? “Are you truly surprised that I might wish to marry someone who would treat me well? Someone I know would never raise a hand to me?”

“I won’t deny that I struck my wife on more than one occasion,” Lawrence said. “She came to me when she was fifteen years old. Still a child in need of discipline. You’re more intelligent, more mature, and I think you will know better than she did. I was not the source of all her troubles, as much as you might like to think so.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I dislike the way that you fawn over Henry and regard me as the most heinous of villains. You should be grateful for your good fortune. You’re betrothed to a man capable of mercy toward women.” 

Beating his wife was mercy? He likely just meant that he wouldn’t take her against her will, and that was a great mercy indeed for women. Beating wasn’t so heinous, Thomasin supposed, but that didn’t mean she was all right with it.

“What do you care what I think?”

“I don’t. I care about whether or not my peers perceive me as weak, though, and I won’t have a wife who runs after another man anytime he frowns.” His voice remained even but his whole face had gone bright red with anger. “We’re to be wed next week. Once you are mine, I won’t tolerate such behavior. A wife obeys her husband in all things; you will not embarrass me by fawning over a weakling. Should you continue to do so, I won’t hesitate to show you my displeasure. Am I clear?”

The calm with which he spoke was unsettling. God’s truth, Thomasin would have felt better if he shouted. 

Thomasin dipped her head. “I understand, my lord.”

Lawrence’s face returned to its normal color and a smile bloomed across his face. “Good.” He gave Thomasin a peck on the cheek. “Sleep well, my beloved.”

She didn’t notice Elaine and her daughter standing nearby until Elaine called out to her. “Thomasin?” She scurried over to her friend. “Are you all right?” Thomasin swallowed back the lump in her throat and nodded. “Here. Come with me.” She released her grip on Mercia to pull Thomasin around a corner for greater privacy, squeezing her hands reassuringly. “What’s happened?”

Thomasin didn’t realize all the color was gone from her face or that she was quaking like a leaf. “I’m fine.”

“Mamma?” Mercia said.

“A moment, my love,” her mother told her. “She was falling asleep at the table; I was leaving to put her to bed,” she explained to Thomasin. “I didn’t mean to listen in on your conversation.”

“I don’t care about that,” Thomasin said, shaking her head.

“I didn’t hear anything clearly,” Elaine said over her. “I only saw that he was talking to you and the look on your face.”

Mercia wasn’t paying attention to what the women were saying, she only saw the sadness in Thomasin’s eyes. “Why you crying?” she asked, eyebrows knit together. Thomasin noticed for the first time how cherubic the child appeared.

“I’m not crying.” Thomasin honestly didn’t think she was. And she wasn’t really, in that there were no tears, but she certainly looked distressed.

The child wouldn’t accept the non-explanation. “Mamma, why she crying?”

Elaine released her friend’s hands and crouched to look her daughter in the eye. “Go back inside, please. Lady Thomasin and I are speaking. I’ll take you to bed just as soon as we’ve finished.”

“But she sad!” Mercia objected. She looked around. “Where Bear? Bear make you happy. I go find!” She was still upset with Kal for assaulting Batty, but she trusted in his ability to bring joy to others.

“No, no, that’s all right,” Thomasin said with a sniffle. “I don’t want to bother him.” The last thing she needed was for Henry to be involved.

Mercia frowned for a moment before thrusting her doll up toward Thomasin’s face. “Take,” she commanded. “Batty make you feel better.”

Thomasin swallowed again and reached out numb fingers. She couldn’t remember the last time she held a doll. “Thank you.”

“Not for always,” Mercia said, holding up a finger. “You keep just until you feel better.”

“I understand. Thank you.”

Elaine and Mercia walked Thomasin back to her room. Elaine gave Etheldreda some instructions. “Mercia, can Lady Thomasin borrow some of Batty’s magic?”

“Just a little bit,” Mercia agreed.

Elaine smiled in thanks. She tore the doll open just enough to pull out some of the dried lavender, which she instructed Etheldreda to put in hot water for Thomasin to drink. “It will keep you from getting upset. I’ll send along some more herbs to help you rest. And more of Batty’s magic,” she assured her daughter. She turned back to Thomasin. “It won’t seem so bad in the morning. A good night’s sleep always helps.”

“I don’t think I can shut my eyes,” Thomasin said.

Elaine smirked. “Sleeping drafts are my specialty.” She didn’t mention that the drafts were the only thing that kept her from going mad when the Normans arrived. Without them, she’d spend all night staring up at the ceiling, clutching her daughter to her chest, praying for mercy from God and the invaders both. 

She slipped away to put Mercia to sleep while Etheldreda prepared Thomasin for bed she sent a servant back with a pack of herbs for Etheldreda to make a sleeping draft and a handful of lavender to replace Batty’s stuffing.

Thomasin watched the fire flicker until the draft was ready. Etheldreda watched her drink, ensuring she drained every drop. Thomasin wiped her mouth with the back of her wrist.

“Lie down,” said Etheldreda.

Thomasin shuffled down in the bed as her maid drew the covers over her. “Etheldreda, have you ever been married?”

She nodded. “Twice.”

“Did you love your husbands?”

“Oh, yes.”

“Did they ever beat you?”

The old woman frowned. “Peasant women can be lucky on occasion. Sometimes we get to choose our husbands.” She tucked Batty under the covers beside Thomasin. “Shut your eyes and rest.”

“I don’t feel tired,” Thomasin said skeptically. She was asleep moments later.

**

Thomasin woke around noon the following day. She was still in a daze, so she decided to keep to her rooms for the day. She’d go visit Henry once she was feeling better.

Etheldreda drew her a steaming bath to ease her into the waking world. She washed and brushed her mistress’s hair, as there was too much of it for Thomasin to manage on her own. She told little stories about her daughters and granddaughters. She had sons, too, Thomasin thought, but she didn’t talk about them. Thomasin guessed they were killed in the war.

A servant dropped off some bread and cheese so Etheldreda and Thomasin did not need to leave the room for their nooning meal. Thomasin did feel better, she thought as Etheldreda laced the back of her simple gown. 

The servant had only just finished when someone pounded on the door so hard that it shook. “Thomasin!” It was Charlie’s voice.

She pulled the door open, knowing immediately that something bad had happened. “What is it?”

Charlie’s shoulders heaved as he breathed heavily; he’d clearly run from wherever he had been to Thomasin’s room. “Henry’s challenging Lawrence.”

“Today?”

“Now!” Charlie said. “If you want to help him, we must go.”

Thomasin didn’t even stop to put on her slippers. She ran alongside Charlie, damp hair loose and whipping around her. The people they passed looked at her like she’d gone mad. Maybe they thought she was drunk for presenting herself in public like that. Or a strumpet.

They finally reached the throne room.

Charlie shoved the doors open and Thomasin rushed inside. Henry had removed his glove and prepared to throw it down; Thomasin surged forward and managed to grab it out of his hand before he could and careened toward the dais and the king.

She fell so heavily on her knees that she scraped the skin. She’d have awful bruises tomorrow. It didn’t matter.  She stared up at the king with enormous eyes. “Your grace, they can’t fight,” she gasped. “Please don’t let them fight.”

“Thomasin,” Henry snarled.

“There’s no need for them to fight,” Thomasin said over him. She refused to turn and look at him.

William raised an eyebrow. “No need? Does this mean you’ll marry Lawrence willingly?”

“Absolutely not.” Her tone was far too harsh but she prayed William would excuse her given the circumstances. “But – I cannot be his wife. Not truly.”

William asked, “Why?”

Oh, God help her. This stupid, stupid girl. Charlie’s plan might not work but she at least had to try.

“Because. Because I’m not – I’m – I’m not a virgin!”

[alreadyblondenow]

Black on black | Lucas Wong

▸ Lucas x reader ▸ Smut, Sprinkle of angst, devil au ▸ HALLOWEEN SERIES: 127 HOUSE ▸ 3/5 for NEOHALLOWEEN writing festival hosted by @nct-writers

Summary: We’ve read different stories about humans summoning demons to ask them for a favor but what happens if, the devil himself summons humans so he can have his own fun? The devil himself strikes a deal with a sinner to save her from the trouble she singlehandedly caused in exchange for her to accept the torture that the devil has planned for her. In bed. But an unexpected turn of events happened that even the devil himself did not see it coming.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: Rough sex, bleeding while sex, choking, swearing, mentions of alcohol, blood play?, bleeding, unprotected sex, mentions of blackmail, filth, straight up filth, fingering, it’s the devil so its rough sex click away if you’re not into that, mentions of depression

A/N: PURE FILTH. I made this as a breather from the two fics before this hehe. Pure fiction and inspired by some movies of course. Don’t expect that this is good like the two fics before this hehehehhehe I just wanted to write for Lucas, finally. 

Taglist: Again, I hope I didn’t miss anyone, if yes please do message me so I can apologize huhu @huangxx @fruityutas @floweringtheflowers​

Growing up, we’ve read different stories about humans summoning demons to ask them for a favor but what happens if, the devil himself summons humans so he can have his own fun? Execute his own way of torturing humans even if they’re still alive and breathing here on Earth?

Lucas, the devil himself. Comes to play in our world during Devil’s Night, his night. It’s like a birthday party for him but nobody knows who he is just how he likes it. He made this huge party for his own pleasure, looking at the humans wearing different costumes, reading their faces, and waiting for a perfect timing. He is specifically looking for someone he can ruin for a good laugh. Someone whom he can ruin in the sheets but also ruin her spirits, her point of view in life, her way of thinking.

The house your friend brought you in was loud and blaring for Halloween night. It was a house and not a club, but the party was so wild that it looked like a club from the outside. Everyone is dressed perfectly for Halloween and tonight, you dressed how you feel. Black wings, black dress, black everything. Perfect for mourning your innocence, purity, and dignity.  

You plan on drinking and pouring all your sorrows at the dance floor, flirt a little if life permits, and maybe go home with a random stranger and have a one night stand. It was a desperate call, you just want to forget your stupidity, feel numb, and be distracted. Fuck morality you said to yourself.

“Did you eat before we get here? You already look fucking wasted” your friend asked, shouting at you so you can hear her.

“No. But I’m fine” you answer her after downing a tequila shot. You feel tired already from too much dancing, mingling with strangers but no one is interesting enough. Little did you know, someone is very interested in you.

He can smell your pain, your struggles, and your desperate call. Your sin is fresh for him and you’re in need of torture, he has a great feeling that he will enjoy this night. The thought of it makes Lucas blush and feel excited for the cherry on top of this night. He was smiling darkly on his little corner, watching your every move, entertained on how you down your alcohols with so much desperation to feel numb.

You drown yourself in the sea of people, dance with strangers who reeks of alcohol, feeling and letting the alcohol get into your system. Everything was blurry. The party lights change every second following the beat of the music. You watch the surroundings turn colored to black, colored to black, colored to black.

“Oh” until someone handsome startled you and appeared in front of you out of nowhere. Looking into his eyes made everything slow, maybe it’s just the alcohol or simply because he’s just handsome and dreamy.

“I think you’re the one for me” shameless. Bold. Just like that, he has you wrapped around his finger.

“Do I know you?” you tried stopping your smile and with your best effort, you put on a serious face. But he can see right through you.

He smirked and came closer, smelling your perfume, and shamelessly bit your left ear. “No. But I know what you did yesterday” you pushed him away but the man was strong and enticing. He held you close to him, holding you on your waist as your eyes are finally captured by his. “I know what you did to get your promotion, such a bad girl you are” you feel his hand slide under your dress, caressing the softness of your skin.

“Tell me the truth, does it feel good to blackmail your boss by forcing him to have sex with you and secretly make a sex tape? Scaring him that you will show it to his wife and his three daughters?” he chuckled darkly while he enjoys watching you get scared.

“Fuck you! I deserve this promotion-“ you croaked, feeling your tears run down your cheeks. But you won’t let this man get inside your head and tried to put up a fight, showed him you’re not scared. Lucas became even more entertained when he saw you cry and fake your bravery.

He didn’t expect you to be quite a fighter and a little fierce, but he loves a good challenge. And you’re definitely it. “Of course you do, but I’m not here to expose you. I want to give you a deal. I will make this all go away, but receive the torture that I have planned for you tonight” his voice became even more inviting and to be completely honest you’re open to accept anything and desperate to make it all go away. What you did was something you want to forget, you’re not a bad person just a very desperate one.

“Who are you? How can you make this all go away, I don’t want anyone to get hurt” He played with the strap of your bra that fell off your shoulder, running his thumb on your clothed nipple. By this time you feel so nervous because you have no idea what this man can do to you.

“I’m the devil and you’re in big trouble clever girl”

You saw it in your own eyes. Under the flicking lights. His face became scaly, the horns on his head look too good to be fake, red dark eyes that hold terror, teeth sharp and dirty as he laughs at you. Then suddenly returned to his handsome form, the one you can stomach to look at.

“F-fine, I’ll do everything you want. Since you’re not giving me any choice here but after this deal, I never want to see you again” you looked at him with scared eyes but still, you stood in front of him with the right amount of bravery.

“You’re not in the position to ask for something. Just enjoy this privilege” the way he kisses your cheek so softly disgusts you after seeing his true form.

For you, you only agreed to do this because the night can come and go. The sun will soon rise and you will be given another day to start over and forget about this night. Just like any other one night stand, you just have to make the sex count, enjoy yourself, and then forget about everything. What can possibly go wrong? You were looking forward to a good fuck tonight anyway.

‘Receive the torture that I have planned for you tonight’ those words linger in your mind like a promise that you’re waiting for him to fulfill. It irritates you how he’s just devouring you while you sit comfortably on his lap by the edge of his massive bed. His dress shirt is only half unbuttoned and you don’t know why you’re itching to get him naked already. So with all your confidence, you unbutton his shirt fully and expose his perfect body.

It made you speechless. Tan skin, perfect chest, abs hard as a rock. It amuses him how you’re completely enchanted by his body. “Remove your clothes, leave your panties” you do as you’re told, removing your own clothes while you kept your eyes lock on the man in front of you. “Perfect” he whispered, brushing his fingers on your now exposed nipples. Soft and slow, making it sensitive, making you whine and turn your head around as you roll your hips slowly on his clothed cock. He is big you’re sure of it.

He puts his thumb on your clothed clit, touching you with the utmost care, taking his time with you, and returning his lips on your neck. “Wheres that torture you were talking about?” you whine out your concern, still waiting for that promise.

“Shut up” is all he said. But it wasn’t stern. It was in an airy tone in between kissing your neck and your boobs, he almost sounded weak but that’s impossible.

He roughly put you in bed, ruined your panties in one go, and spread your legs like you’re just nothing. It was quite a rush and it happened so fast. You don’t know when did he remove his pants and underwear but he is now devouring the valley between your boobs, kissing it softly while his hand caresses your legs like he owns you.

Did it sink in already to you? That you’re now naked in bed and about to have sex with the devil?

His hard cock brushes on the insides of your thighs, feeling how big it is and already doubting if it could fit inside you. “It will” he whispers, ah, he can read your mind. Great. “fuck me already” you spoke to him in your mind, which made him smile.

“How many times do I have to tell you, you’re not in the position to ask for something” he bit your lower lip and made you bleed. He licks the blood and licked your lips. How surprising, you like what he’s doing so you wrapped your arms around him and did the same thing to him.

You bit his lips. Let it bleed and lick his lips right in front of his eyes.

Lo and behold. This is the first time a human surprised him with such boldness. As much as it hurts his pride being continuously challenged, he still wants to see your face when he finally ruins you. But it seems like your touch is ruining him, the way your hands roam around his back is addicting for him. How can this be? “Don’t touch me” he said, but this time it wasn’t soft. He sounded angry and frustrated. But you didn’t stop and continue touching him, irritating him more with your touch forcing him to kiss you.

“I said don’t touch me” he repeats and you feel his skin getting warmer like a kettle on the stove.

“No. Let me touch you, that way you can enjoy more”

It’s not that you already found out that your touch affects him. He is naturally enticing, luring, and handsome. There’s no way you will let this moment pass without having your own fun. A handsome man is on top of you, perfect kissable thin lips, beautiful body with perfectly tanned skin, you don’t care anymore if his eyes turned red and dark.

Lucas on the other hand has never seen anyone look at him with full admiration. How you swirl your finger around his nipples, and kiss him with all the lust you have surprised him. He didn’t expect this kind of pleasure, he felt like a king.  

Desperate people can do horrible things like sleeping with the devil. “Are we going to fuck or are we just going to admire each other for the whole night?” you asked him and he was challenged. He lifts your hips and rests it on his thigh, dragging you completely on the mattress as he spread your legs even wider than before. “I’m completely aware that you’re not a virgin anymore… but tonight I’m gonna make you bleed. I will hurt you and you” there was his scary tone again that sends a shiver in your spine and widen your eyes.

“Hmm?” the answer to your question was answered by one swift move.

Lucas rammed his cock in your tight walls, not giving a fuck if it hurts you. “Shit!” you covered your mouth and breathed deeply as you feel Lucas pulling out completely and ramming his cock again inside you.

It hurt. But just like the first time you had sex, the pain was gone after a few hard thrusts.

He did make you feel like a virgin again and that completely blows your mind. How? As expected, it was a good fuck. Better than anything you’ve had and you’re happy you gave in. So happy that you were smiling while hurting, moaning a string of curses while his fingers dig on your skin.

He pulled out his cock and ran a finger on your slit. The bold move made you whine and you feel your bud so sensitive. He showed you his middle finger with your blood on it, smirked, and licked his finger clean with a devilish smile. He went back to fucking you real hard your head bumps on his headboard. The way he was fucking you was like he haven't had sex for a year.

He cums inside you and started to roll his hips slowly. “I need to rest. Go slow” again, your body is answering to him. Your arms wrapped around his neck, he’s giving in from your touch.

“Did your boss made you bleed this good when he was fucking you on his table yesterday?” he asks while still rolling his hips oh so slowly and showering your neck with kisses. He wasn’t tired at all even though he’s grunting and breathing heavily. You feel his soft touches again around your chest, tracing your collar bone but when his hand reaches your neck, he suddenly chokes you and thrust quickly putting you on edge again.

“Harder,” you said, struggling but it pleasures you. You are truly the perfect one for him he thought. As he went harder, choking you until you reach your high again, you watch him smile in satisfaction kissing you while choking and fucking you hard amuses him to the core.  

Oh, how he loved the sex! After cumming inside you, he finally let go of your neck, letting you cough and catch your breath. Your body feels weak and tired, he definitely worn you out but he seems ready to go for another round, so this time you beg. “Please. Rest”

He chuckled and continued kissing your body, devouring your lips, making your nipples swollen. You noticed he’s making you touch him now, he seems to be addicted to your touch at this point. He can’t stop holding your hand, intertwine it with his, and whenever you pull your hand away just to teas him he grips it hard and wrap your arms around his neck.

Still body to body and his cock inside you, Lucas was asking for another round but you refuse. He might be the devil but consent is still important. You refuse and refuse until he gets tired of asking. “Okay. I give up. But that was-“

“Great? Awesome? Admit it you’re already looking forward to seeing me again” you were still struggling to talk from too much choking, the feeling of his big hands around your neck still lingers on your skin.

“Come to Hell with me. You’re the best I’ve had so far- I can make you rich, I’ll give everything you want” he reaches for your hand and placed a soft kiss at the back of it.

“Did you forget that I agreed to this because I have a perfect life here? Don’t forget your part of the bargain, hmm?” it completely surprised him how you easily refused his offer and still embraced your life here. After everything that happened in his bed, he still can’t believe you don’t want to stay with him.

When you got up to clean his cum dripping from your legs and prepare yourself to come home, he stopped you from leaving his room. Kissed you more and for the first time in his entire existence, he begged. “I’m not going to say it again, it hurts my pride. Stay with me”

“Do you love me? After we fucked like that? You suddenly love me?”

“I don’t love you”

“Then I don’t have any reason to stay and come with you” you kissed him one last time like what you always do to every man you slept with.

He felt betrayed, frustrated, and annoyed.

After having sex with him, you left his house limping and sore but quite glowing because of the amazing sex. It was fun while it lasted, but all good things come to an end.

Lucas did make it all go away. He gave you a clean spot for the promotions, deleted your boss’s memories about you blackmailing him, and he deleted the only evidence of what you did beforehand. It was like magic for you and you got all these for free by just having sex with him. What a win-win situation. Your life became perfect as it can be after that night in 127 House. No one can take this all away from you. Or so you thought.

He built your career in just one snap of his finger, the same goes for how he ruined your life. Just because you hurt his pride and refused his offer. After a few months, he released the video to the police and got you arrested. Laughing on the side as he watches you get your hands cuffed. Listening to your cries in jail, it’s like a lullaby for him. But that’s not where his torture ends, he even ruined your mental health. Made you depressed while you were doing time, made your family turn their backs against you. Not even one visit for a year.

That’s why you quickly jumped in bed when finally someone remembered you. Even just one visit from your family can lift your spirits.

But he wasn’t family.

“You did all this!” without hesitation you shouted at him, showing your anger from your side of the room. But he was just sitting there, watching you cry and shout. Smirking.

“Shut up. I’m here to offer something” there he is again with his twisted deals, “Come down there with me. I have a contract here, just to make everything professional and tidy. Sign it. Or you will suffer more”

He was sitting cooly in front of you, like a rich man buying a piece of a very expensive jewelry. One of the guards un-cuffed you and handed you a pen and the contract that will make everything go away. Is being with him for all eternity better than jail? Will he finally keep his word this time? What if one day he found another woman who can offer the same things?  

“You said you don’t love me”

“I lied. I don’t know what love means but if it's close to obsession, then I’m obsessed with you.”

“Why can't you leave me alone?”

He chuckled darkly and leaned closer to the glass that’s keeping you away from each other. “You’re in love with danger and all things dark that's why I can't let go of you. You are, truly the one for me” You turned silent and he just watched you cry in front of the contract, gripping your pen and confused as fuck. He was running out of patience.  

“Are you going to sign that or I will make you?”

For the last time, you read the contract and read the words ‘forever’ over and over again and looked at Lucas before you sign it. Forever with this man? you signed it with a heavy heart and smashed the pen on the table and cry some more.

“Lastly,” he stood up from his seat, buttoning his coat and fixing his sleeve. “Say that you love me” he smirked again in front of you, giving you no choice.

“I love you”

He looked deep in your eyes for some time, smelling your fear through the glass. And with one snap, the glass was gone. It didn’t surprise you this time, you’re well aware of what he’s capable of. In the first place, he ruined your life.

He snapped his fingers again, but this time you’re surprised. “Did you know that after you cleaned my dripping cum from your legs that night you come to bed with me and we had sex again- oh! It was better than the first and second round!”

Flashbacks in your head were playing, as you remember how he lured you in bed that night again. The way you removed your dress in front of him again was so clear this time, he was smiling and you were enjoying his touch. You closed your eyes and the next memory that played in your head was how he put your hands above your head, fingers intertwined with his and the feeling of your fingers gripping tightly still ghosts your hands until now.

“It was all an illusion Y/n. You never left 127 House, I just made you believe that you’re in jail. If you thought that it was already a year, well, it’s only been three days”  

[starshipsofstarlord]

‘Tis The Damn Season | Hamish Duke

Warnings; includes angst, implications of smut (not too detailed), breakup, heart ache, sacrifice, pain, and angst again

Based of ‘tis the damn season by Taylor Swift

If I wanted to know who you were hanging with 

Whilst I was gone, I would’ve asked you

Belgrave, home. For a while, you had thought that Hamish had served as that shelter, but the brick road broke, splitting the pair of you apart. It was as though the pair of you were ice, thawing over the time that the independent plan had been brewing.

This place, it was to be missed. It was a great step of a risk that you were to be taking, and so was the weighing of your heart. It felt as though it would be difficult to carry, it would remain with you, surely even after you crossed and exited the borders of the town.

Leaving overall, let alone him was to be exceedingly difficult, any attachment had to be released, like a bird from a cage. But birds in cages had routines, they’d be fed, and get affection, but this one wouldn’t. He’d just be abandoned, left to fend for himself.

The man that had been the only dream that had rendered your brain at night placed the guitar into the back of your car. He knew that it, what you had, was ending.

This was the end, and alternately not the one that Hamish had been expecting. If you were leaving university behind you, in the reflection of your rear view mirror, he would be left standing, alone and broken hearted.

It’s the kind of cold, fogs up the windshield glass

But I felt it when I passed you

“Goodbye Hamish.” It felt like a cruel lyric that would be used in a song, a line you’d harmonise on stage.

Getting into the drivers seat, you allowed yourself a first and last glance through the chilled glass, blinking away any tears that threatened to spill.

He was a good man, there were great things ahead of Hamish Duke. But none of that included you, this was his journey now, you had already made the choice of yours.

And this was the price of it, the freezing of your heart; the truest and purest love that you had ever felt. No matter, you had already paid it, and caused pain for both Hamish and yourself.

There’s an ache in you, put there by the ache in me

But if it’s all the same to you

It’s the same to me

Turning the ignition on, you proceeded to drive past everything that you had ever known, all that you had love for.

The smallest distance seared a wrenching ache within your chest. It felt like a punishment for putting yourself first for once, it made you concerned, surely it shouldn’t have.

The car’s slow pace had Hamish biting his lip, containing any of his avid disagreements to this. He understood your priority, respected it even, but none of that made watching you leave any easier.

If anything, it gave him an urge to turn and head to a bar or something of the sort. But he remained, his heart sinking lower as you got further from his line of sight.

It shouldn’t have heart him as much as it did. It was common knowledge that first loves weren’t eternal. Time would only help him accept that cruel fact, or so he thought.

So we could call it even

You could call me “babe” for the weekend

Hamish’s body was under bliss, he had found his solace once more. He fit perfectly upon your nude form, it felt like his soul was rebuilding itself.

But he had to remember that you were only here for the weekend, you’d soon be gone again. And he would fall apart all over, just like the first time.

“Babe.” The blonde moaned, his hands intertwining with yours, he had missed more than just pleasure from your entanglements. He had beyond missed the entirety of your being.

The name that you were keen to lap from the tip of his theoretical tongue was a misplaced comfort. It shouldn’t however have the effect of such comfort, not when the pair of you were claiming to have been trying your hardest to move past what you had once been.

It was an old and tiring routine, that you were prone to returning to. The sinful actions were bad for each of your mental health, but it felt right to argue against it.

 The wisest decision would be to forget Hamish, and every notion he inclined you to feel, but it was too difficult, especially when he had you seeing orgasmic stars.

‘Tis the damn season, write this down

I’m staying at my parents’ house

“Aren’t you seeing any old friends from university this Christmas?” The question was poised by your mother, she was far too concerned by the fact that since your arrival you had hardly left the house.

It was even blurred by snow outside, not too much to the point where you’d have to be shovelling it from the porch, but it was enough. It was beautiful, perfect for this time in the season.

In fact, you loved the snow. But the memories that bombarded your mind from the wonderful weather had your mind rolling back to Hamish, specifically how blue his eyes appeared amongst the frosted surroundings.

The thought had you sniffling, holding in a post breakup breakdown from your mother’s eyes. She thought you were sick, demanding that you get something for ‘that runny nose of yours, it could be contagious’.

And the road looks real good now

And it always leads to you and my hometown

The exact second that you entered your car, your hands sternly hit the steering world. Were you not allowed to follow your career through the workings of the world without punishment?

Because it sure felt that way, as though you were being a rebel in a war, however the battlefield was that of your heart. It was tearing slowly, and had been over the entirety of your hopeful escapade.

It cried regularly to be united back with Hamish, to its rightful home. It was suffering from separation anxiety from him, clouding the gaps in your brain and making them think about the tall, handsome man alone.

And the road taken looks real good now

And it always leads to you and my hometown

Every time that you were in your car, it felt like you were leaving home all over again, and Hamish would be standing by, with his upset aura, trying his hardest to keep himself together.

It was the worst feeling, knowing that exiting town was essentially the same as stabbing him in the heart. There was no feeling worse than knowing that you had hurt Hamish, you still felt more than something for him.

Whenever you’d come by of a weekend, which was every couple of months, occasionally each few, you’d take the pill of seeing him. But not too long ago, you’d realised how cruel the self invitation really was.

He had been growing used to life without you, and then you’d reappear, lounging in his bed, only to rip away from him and cause a terrible ache in his heart when you’d return to your performing duties. It was unfair, so you refused this month to allow him to know that you were back, otherwise the painful pattern would only continue, and there’d never be an end to it.

I parked my car between the Methodist

And the school used to be ours

Belgrave university was right beside the pharmacy, it only made you feel actually sick. The memories from the school were returning, there were so many of them, it was as though they were trying to anchor you in the snow as you stepped out of your car.

Almost all of them included Hamish, he was the main attraction of the university anyways. But perhaps you had stood there reminiscing longer than you should have, because it seemed that you had drawn some unwanted attention.

Hamish. He was walking from the entrance, a sombre expression had been held upon his face until he saw you. And then his face was rivalled with hope and confusion, you hadn’t informed him that you were back yet.

He’d already expected you to be returning for the holidays, mostly for your family, however, you hadn’t told him, and from the wideness of your eyes, the realisation kicked into his instinct. You had had no intention to.

But he continued to walk towards you anyways, trying his best not to smile and coo at the adorableness of your red nose.

The holidays linger like bad perfume

You can run, but only so far

The thought of making a leg for it, sprinting as far away as possible, or getting back into your car and steering away certainly crossed your mind.

This interaction was certainly not a miracle of the season, it felt like a curse, ascending from hell itself. You hadn’t wanted to see him, but the universe had interfered and made a collaboration.

I escaped it too, remember how you watched me leave

But if it’s okay with you, it’s okay with me

However every time you came and left, this building confrontation had been avoided, with you packing your suitcase for the umpteenth time, zipping each of your mouths shut and hearing nothing but the sound of the wheels rolling across the concrete of your family’s driveway.

Now, to contradict it all, the pair of you were stood upon even ground, it wasn’t outside of either of your homes, it was strangely the perfect place for this. And you found your dread slightly dissipating, aware that this was always going to happen, the road had just ended.

We could call it even

You could call me “babe” for the weekend

He was confused as to what to say or do. This was the first instance that he had seen you again in a place other than in his sheets, it was overwhelming.

“You haven’t been answering my messages.” His tone was calm, but in it, pain was presented, his sad blue eyes also justified that aspect of his aura. “Here for another weekend?”

It came across as less pleasant than he had anticipated, he was stressed to say the least. Something happened to him, it was out of the ordinary, he had wanted to speak to someone, and the first person that had came to his mind was you.

‘Tis the damn season, write this down

I’m staying at my parents’ house

Wringing your hands at the sound of his voice, it was visible that his presence made you nervous. That wasn’t what he wanted at all, he already scared himself after that sheathing of wolf fur wrapped itself around him and chose him as its vessel. His intent wasn’t to make you mirror his discomfort.

And so he uncrossed his arms, putting them into his trouser pockets and tried to look as relaxed as his exterior could fathom.

“I’m staying with my parents, it’s the holidays and all. Had to come home somewhen.”

And the road not taken looks real good now

Time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires

But you knew, that it was all to return to him. That was the universe’s plan for you, if you ever tried to get away, it’d only force you to reconnect once again. There was no escape, and a part of you was not complaining about that.

The other however was outrageous, nothing could ever be easy, it all drifted down shore from the plan, the ultimate dream. Using your voice to sing was the goal, however here you were instead, mentally cursing and dragging the name of the planet through the darkness inhabited in your neurons.

Now I’m missing your smile, hear me out

And the road not taken looks real good now

Right now, all you wished was to stay. His smile was inviting you to do, and so you stepped cautiously towards Hamish, hands going to his face and pressing the pads of your fingers to his cold cheeks.

Snow began to fall, but you could care less. It already felt like there was a blizzard forcing to search for shelter, and here it was, in the body of this one man. He was different from the rest, he was your road, the one you wanted to continue on, rather than drive away from.

And it always leads to you and my hometown

Sleep in half the day just for old times’ sake

His eyes shut at the contact, it was far more passionate than the times you had seen him during your occasional visits. Don’t get it mistaken, the sex was great, however it was a coping mechanism, rather than a true example of love.

There had been something missing, at first you assumed that it was the lack of labels between the two of you, however you proved yourself wrong after realising that it was the proximity that the pair of you had once had.

The loyalty, the trust, the knowledge that the two of you had traded. It had always been mutual, and so was this heartache, it wasn’t fair for the pair of you to be apart, yet still suffering from more than the distance.

I won’t ask you to wait if you don’t ask me to stay

So I’ll go back to L.A. and the so-called friends

There was one singular thing that Hamish desired to ask. However it’d be a two way street of cruelness if he allowed it to slip. But if he gave it permission to leave his mouth, then perhaps it would be a different story.

Everything could go back to normal, the way things had been. Except from him of course, he was forever changed, he was the house to a creature so unbelievable, yet proven real, that he could not just dispose of it. That would end in his death if he were to split from this monster within him.

But he would also die if he had to be distanced mentally from you any longer. He took one long stride of his leg, cupping the edges of your face, and clashed the two of your lips against his own. The contact was hungry, needing to swallow any last breaths that could possibly be breathed in each other’s presence.

If he had it his way, he wouldn’t break the unison against you, however he had to, otherwise he would surely have to catch your tired body, not that that would be the worst thing in the world.

“Stay, don’t go again.” It fell, permitting a moment of silence in the air. This required thought, but the answer could be sudden, if it were, then that would be the true response that he was seeking. It would be an instinct to remain here, with him, at your home.

Who’ll write books about me if I ever make it

And wonder about the only soul

It made a sigh tumble from the hollow of your throat, as though you were shocked by his defiance and desire. However you were not, the grand query was to come to pass sometime, it had been eventual, until now.

He had finally ripped the band aid from the soreness upon his beating chest, and done so to your own. He had opened the wound, allowing it to breathe in the surrounding air, making your own hitch as you thought of an appropriate reply.

It wasn’t professional to be so swayed by his proposition, however, what about all that you wanted to accomplish? The career you were pursuing, the town of Belgrave wouldn’t be so kind to permit you the reputation you were seeking. 

“I don’t know what to say.” The truth left your lips, the mind that was being stalled by all the possibilities, the two paths that were duelling for your footsteps, was suffering from total confliction. There was no easy answer, either way, you were to be giving something you loved up.

Who can tell which smiles I’m fakin’

And the heart I know I’m breakin’ is my own

“How about yes?” He was desperate to hear it, the confirmation that you would remain with him through the tough time that he was painfully living through. Your absence, albeit how it was completely your choice, did not help the situation. 

Hamish needed someone that not only he could rely on and trust, but would help him. Somebody whom could keep him in touch with his human side, and away from the likening to alcohol that he had picked up upon now that he was legal to purchase it himself.

“Okay. I’ll stay for a little, but no promises to it being permanent.” You had been swayed by not only his engorging blue eyes, but also the pain, the pleading that echoed behind them. He was desperate for you to remain with him, and you feared for his mental health if you didn’t compromise.

To leave the warmest bed I’ve ever know

We could call it even

Even though I’m leaving

The pin had dropped, the choice had been made. The sacrifice bled out from your heart, the same red as the sheets that were currently around you. Hamish stared up at the ceiling, his hand softly stroking the skin of your shoulder.

“It’s funny, every time that we spend the weekend together like this, I tell my mum that I’m seeing an old friend from school.” The sound of your voice pursed a smile to Hamish’s face, he huffed a small, almost wolfish laugh.

“That’s kind of the truth, if you think about it.” He pulled you closer, placing a slow yet short kiss upon your lips, to which you reciprocated. This had been the best choice that you could have made, for not only the man nestled in the bed beside you, but also yourself.

And I’ll be yours for the weekend

‘Tis the damn season

We could call it even

It was both a selfish and selfless call that you had taken. One that perhaps one day, you would kick yourself for making, but right now, you held no regret to it. Hamish had been your first love, and fate had it so that he would also be your last.

“My mum would be over the moon to know that I was with you rather than one of the girls that I took bio with.” She had forever been fond of Hamish, even before the two of you had became an item. Even your father had a likening to the young man. The pair would pleased that the two of you were still in communications.

“What are we now?” He asked seriously, he had reeled enough answers from you for one day, however it was another thing that he would have liked to know. He didn’t merely want you to be his only over the weekend, he wanted it to return to the way it all was, before your first departure, he’d ensure that you had already taken your last ticket out of town.

You could call me “babe” for the weekend

‘Tis the damn season, write this down

“Us, I suppose. The equals to one another, as we always were.” His dimples showed at the clarity that you provided. Until he felt a pain in his back, it cracked up through his spine as he felt it begin again.

The dreaded transition, the curse was sparking to life in the worst possible moment. He needed you to be away from him, if he harmed you, then that would surely kill him. He couldn’t have a mark from his own hand upon you, it would be against his will, but the blood would have still been drawn by himself.

I’m staying at my parents’ house

And the road not taken looks real good now

Time flies, messy as the mud on your truck tires

Hamish’s sudden seating in bed had you frowning, your hand caressed his his shoulder, however he snarled at your touch, harshly shrugging you off from him. To say you were worried was an understatement, in the light of the afterglow, he had always been quiet and calm, but this was something you had never witnessed. 

If you believed in anything beyond this world, perhaps you’d have suspected he was possessed by something greatly evil and controlling. But they were all tales, fiction and fairy tales that were drawn into illusions and dreams.

“Are you okay?” He wasn’t, and if he didn’t get space from you, then you too would be suffering. And so he spat the only thing that he could think of to get you to spook, to run far away from him.

Now I’m missing your smile, hear me out

We could just ride around

And the road not taken looks real good now

“I’ve changed my mind. Leave!” It was as though he roared the words at you, and he had you in a haste to scramble for your clothes and leave his room. This wasn’t supposed to happen, none of it. But he knew that he had been too greedy, he couldn’t be alive with this horrible circumstance that was inside of him and have you. 

It may not have been fair, but it was the safest route. In the end, he had figured it out, you couldn’t help him with this. He didn’t want to tell you, he didn’t want you to know that he was a monster. 

You never believed in the supernatural anyways, and that was now for the best. It would make you safer, and more importantly, have faith that he was just a jerk, not some killer that hunted under the full moon.

And it always leads to you and my hometown

It always leads to you and my hometown

You had escaped from your hometown. But Hamish would always draw you back, one way or another...

[sinisterlyhan]

01. lee felix / 2834 words

some fluff here and there, soft sex, unprotected sex, established relationship, female reader, kind of dom!felix

a/n: alright, i have one more minho drabble to write and i think my brain will be fried for the remaining times. 

felix was sulking when he walked into your shared apartment. you could see from the arch of his lips and how his eyes were dimmer than usual that he was upset, and the way he kicked his shoes off and had to fumble with the doorknob to lock the door told you he was not in his mind as well.

setting your laptop aside, your brows raised when he didn't greet you the way he always would when he gets home from classes and work, instead he sighed and headed straight inside for your shared bedroom, one that still needed heavy renovating ever since you two got together and impulsively decided to turn his bedroom into a storage room instead.

you got off the couch and headed inside as well, wanting nothing more than to ask if felix was doing okay. he rarely sulks like this, he had always been such a bright and cheerful person that seeing him so quiet all of a sudden made you feel uneasy.

the door to your room was opened and you pushed it open carefully before poking your head inside. you saw that his school bag was discarded at the corner of your messy desk and, and felix was standing by the bed, looking down at the blanket with a stoic gaze.

he jumped a little when he felt your arms wrapping around him from behind, one over and the other under his shoulders, your hands meeting each other in front of his chest. you leaned your chin on his shoulder, rocking him from side to side before you helped him relax by planting a muffled kiss to the nape of his neck.

"hello, love," he finally mumbled, turning slightly to the side before opting to lean his head against yours instead. he was smiling now, appreciating the surprise back hug that lingered as a form of silent support.

"hey," you greeted back, your voice soft. tilting your head to the side of look at him better, sympathy flooded into your eyes at his exhausted features before you asked, your pinky finger reaching up to brush at his blond bangs. "rough day today, huh?"

felix hummed sadly, his voice low but childish upon being asked to vent about his day. he has been waiting for all the pent-up negativity to explode from inside, and he was only ever comfortable with venting in front of you since he knew you wouldn't look at him any differently from it.

"remember the semester project i told you about? no one has done anything so i'm going to have to do half the work, and it's due this weekend so i need to rush it," he said. "and even though i want to tell our professor about it, i know i wouldn't at the end because i don't want my group mates to not get at least some credit."

you listened to him vent about his day. all the people who frustrated him along the way, an occasional slip-in of a funny incident with his friends, and then more terrible people he didn't know how to be mean to. listening to felix talk had always been a joy due to how nice his voice was, but now that you have fallen so madly in love with him, hearing about his day just became part of daily activity you could never miss.

"aww, i'm sorry your day went like this," you said as you pulled away to turn him around. felix was pouting down at you, his hands moving down to your waist to pull you closer to him. you laughed, knowing what he was asking for, and you quickly cupped his cheeks to plant a kiss on his lips.

he immediately smiled. he could never get tired of kissing you—it was like you applied some type of addictive candy to your lips, they were always so sweet and he could never get enough of them.

"i'm feeling much better now," he mused, his eyes sparkling at you with their tender lights.

you rolled your eyes, feigning a dramatic shiver as you squeezed his cheek. "cheesy," you mumbled before leaning in to kiss him again. "just the way i like it."

and felix didn't let you go this time around, his grip on your waist tightening with each smooch of your lips, unable to remove himself from your sweetness. you complied with his request, holding his jaw and tilting your head for a better angle.

just as the kiss got much needier, he suddenly pulled away, earning a whine from you. but when he caught your eyes by searching for him and you realized how much hooded they have become, you clamped your mouth shut to keep the verbal complaint from surfacing. his eyes were brown as the breaking soil, and they impacted you as nature would—beautiful, powerful, and very desirable.

you have seen them like that a few times before, sometimes after midnight and sometimes in the early morning but all of them had been warm, passionate occasions.

"can we have sex?" he asked, a surprise, little pout appearing on his face as he played with your shirt. "i really need you right now."

oh, how dare he look so pretty when he spilled such sinful words with such lustful voices.

"my baby needs helping to unwind?" you asked despite knowing the answer, once again swiping his bangs away from his eyes. he gave you an eager nod then, and you grinned before leaning in to kiss him yet again.

it was much more aggressive this time because this kiss would be leading to something bigger than just a hot makeout session.

besides, felix has been wanting you for the whole day. his only way of releasing his accumulating stress was by daydreaming about being able to be inside you when he gets home, to pound into your hot heat, and to hear your lovely voice whimper his name as your eyes squeeze in bliss because he makes you feel so, so good.

he pulled you onto the bed with him, pulling you by your hands and impatiently tugging you down to his side. you had to break away for a moment to take your shirt off, your heart eagerly punching your chest as you scrambled on top of his legs and straddled his this abdomen.

your hands flew back to his face and you brought your lips back to his, kissing and biting him until you could feel his lips swollen under yours. the tingling sensation of his hands danced across the skin of your back and your stomach, feeling your curve up, and the featherlight realization of your bra straps hanging loosely off your shoulders, waiting for him to rip it off of you was none other than exciting.

you squealed out a laugh when, without you knowing, felix unhooked your bra and it fell in between the two of you. he pulled away to swat the garment away, then he returned his attention to your glorious breasts. he sighed in admiration—it seemed he loved every part of them, from their size to their perkiness.

taking your bud in his mouth, he moaned at the soft roundness of your boob as you squirmed at the way his tongue kept flicking across your nipple. your arms went behind his head, hugging him to your chest at the feeling of your breasts being fondled so softly with his hand and mouth. it was the kind of attention you loved and deserved, and felix had always been giving it to you to the fullest extent.

as he paid his attention to your chest, he could feel blood rush to his hardening member the more you huffed and puffed at the feeling. soon enough, he was poking at your shorts, and you, after gasping at the feeling, ground down on him just to feel some friction.

"ah–fuck–" felix groaned at the pleasant feeling, his eyes closing for a moment before they opened to look at you. he was begging at this point, his cock twitching just at the thought of being able to pound into you senselessly, leaving all the problems in the world at the entrance of you heat. "please let me fuck you, (name)."

"what do you think we've been doing, lix," you said with a faint chuckle, sitting up and taking off your pajama shorts.

seeing that, felix quickly went ahead to untie the strings of his pants and shook it off his legs. you barely caught sight of his hardened member under his boxers before he slipped it off as well, letting his dick spring free. you gulped with a faint smile, knowing he would fit well inside you but anticipating the pleasurable stretch anyway.

he hissed when you grabbed his tip, your thumb running over to spread his pre-cum all over before you got back to your original spot. you casually sucked at your thumb as you positioned yourself, tasting the bitterness of his cum and smiling seductively at him as you sucked your thumb dry.

"god, that's hot," he said through clenched teeth, his head falling back against the headboard and his mouth agape.

the giggle on your face didn't last too long. when you sunk on his length, your eyes widened and your lips parted at the incredible stretch you really should get used to by now. felix had his hands on your hips, guiding you down on him with deep, raspy groans leaving his lips.

when you were finally seated with him slug inside of you, felix reached up to wipe at your eyes, and you huffed out a burst of soft laughter in appreciation of his concern. he smiled at you, utterly in love with the way you leaned against his hand for many reasons, before he kissed you with a hand traveling behind your neck.

without breaking away, you decided to put your thighs to work and started to bring your heat up and down on his cock.

you gasped into his mouth at the first stroke, and the second, the third. and you kept going at a slow pace, both to adjust to his length and to take the feeling to the fullest amount. and every fire that ignited in your chest as his shaft rubbed along your walls made you and felix whine ecstatically.

you looked down at him, finding his careful yet endeared gaze staring up at you. and felix seemed to fall in love with you again, right now with your hair fallen beautifully all over your face and you riding him so sensually, making him feel nothing but pure goodness.

"gosh, i love you so much." he had to say it, his voice hitching suddenly as you clenched around him. "ahh, you feel so good!"

you giggled, your hands going to his cheek and stroking it with your thumb. you went down to kiss his face, starting from his forehead to his eyes, and you moaned contently against his skin when your lips landed on his freckles because felix had thrust up against you.

the wetness kept building, your juices slick around his cock making you feel every inch of it. then you started to rush to feel it more, moving faster to give both you and felix as much friction as you could. his tip was venturing within you deeply, brushing and pressing repeatedly until it finally hit your favorite spot.

you broke away from his mouth to let out a pornographic moan, your head threw back and your hands gripping his shoulders tightly. knowing he had found the sensitive spot within you, felix brought his hands down to your ass and helped you maintain your position just so you could feel the same surge of electricity with each fallen thrust.

you were leaning on him for support, your head pressed against the side of his head as you moaned your delightful pleasures away. and felix took the chance to press his face against your breasts, feeling the pillowy surface but not letting that drown out the way you were taking his cock like your hole was practically made for him.

your thighs desperately going against your exhausted muscles as you chased the orgasm building at your core. "fuck–lix, i can't, i'm close," you whispered next to his ear, your hot breaths fanning against the sensitive skin and making him shiver.

something stirred within him, and he remembered once again his strong desire to fuck you. not like this where you rode him and he occasionally thrusts up to your cunt because he couldn't control himself, but as in him pinning you down and just sexually ramming into you, just hitting your spot again and again so he could get an ample amount of you screaming his name.

you squealed in surprise when he lifted you off of him and flipped you on your back. your hands went up to your head, his small hand just enough to pin your wrists above it. you couldn't move, felix was much stronger than you thought. before you could even comment anything about this sudden action, he inserted himself back into you harshly, causing you to let out a choked gasp.

"felix! i can't take mor–oh fuck," your voice kept being rendered breathless the more his hips snapped against yours, meeting you to the hilt before he dragged it out and going back in again.

he had this concentrated, rapturous expression on his face, indicating that you were doing extremely well in helping him forget his shitty day because now all that filled his mind was you, you, you. your pussy, your sounds, your body, your essence—felix could only care about you and how great you were making him feel.

and he was losing control over himself. you tightness clenching around his senses, blocking him from any sane thoughts that weren't about this exact moment. felix looked down, his hand still pinning yours above your head while his other hand kept your thighs separated for him.

you were loving it, he could tell; you were loving the restrictions just as much as he was enjoying how obedient you were being, just letting him fuck you open like this and still not being able to shut up despite how overwhelming you felt.

"fuck, lix–ahhh—" your vocabularies were reduced; if you knew words before, you didn't. all that managed to come out of your mouth have only been curses, a string of moans, and his name.

felix was enjoying himself way too much, as he should. your fucked out expression and your hoarse voice left a permanent mark in his head; something he had been and will be thinking about whenever he needed.

"shh, we're almost there," he whispered after leaning down to your face. his hand removed from your wrists, and, upon being released, they were quick to play down to his shoulders, going across to hug him to you.

your eyes were faintly teary, causing him to soften, so when he leaned down it was to kiss you instead of simply burying his face at your chest. you kept humming against his mouth, your breath quickening with each snap of his hips until he pulled away just enough for you to let your noises out properly.

"are you close?" he asked, grunting with his lips barely ghosting over yours and his droopy lids covering most of his eyes.

"y–yeah–" you nodded, your eyes shut tight when he went faster to chase your orgasms.

the balloon popped unannounced, leaking and coating your cum all around him, making his dick warm and covered. felix growled out loud, still fucking against you until he hit his own release, hot liquids squeezed out of his tip and mixing in with yours inside your used hole.

he collapsed on top of you when he was done, not pulling out just yet because he wanted to keep his cum—and his dick—inside where it was warm. your arms went tightly around his back to pull his clothed torso close, chest heaving with his. 

"was that okay? that was good, right?" felix asked after a brief moment of rest, still panting rather heavily.

you laughed with his ear pressed against your heart, stroking his hair. "yes, yes that was."

"thank you for making me feel so nice all the time," he pouted, turning his head so his chin poked at your skin. he turned childish again, back to the usual self you loved so much.

"of course," you said. "thank you for making me feel the same as well."

"do you want me to clean you up or should we stay like this for a little?" he asked then, hissing a bit when you tightened around him. he looked up at your grinning face, triumph littered all over the crinkle of your eyes and quirk of your lips, and he gave you a small, lustful glare.

oh, it seemed somebody was asking for round two.

[straydawg-writing]

𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞'𝐬 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐦.

- 𝓚. 𝙯𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙮𝙘𝙠

• hunter x hunter series!

summary:

┍━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┑

𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙖𝙡𝙡𝙮.

𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙛𝙧𝙞𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙨 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙜𝙩𝙝.

𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙞𝙛 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙜𝙤𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙤 𝙜𝙚𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙧𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩, 𝙞𝙩 𝙬𝙤𝙪𝙡𝙙 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙫𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙗𝙤𝙮𝙨 𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙢𝙨𝙚𝙡𝙫𝙚𝙨.

ˏˋ♡̩͙♡̩̩̥͙♡̩̥̩ ⋆ ♡̩̥̩♡̩̩̥͙♡̩͙̩͙ˊˎ

- 𝙞𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧, 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙛𝙞𝙜𝙝𝙩𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙖𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙜𝙨𝙞𝙙𝙚 𝙂𝙤𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙆𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙪𝙖. 𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙤𝙬𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙥𝙡𝙤𝙩. (𝙢𝙤𝙨𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙨𝙚𝙩 𝙙𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙘𝙝𝙞𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙖 𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙖𝙧𝙘)

┕━━━━━♥♠♣♦━━━━━┙

Chapter 1 —

⋯✰⋯

"Book."

"Gain!"

Bisky's eyes shined like stars as a smooth blue gemstone appeared in front of her. You could spot tears of hers spring up as she cradled the glittering rock like it was the most precious thing in the world.

"What should I name it? Blue-chan? Planet-chan?" she gushed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. You stifled a laugh, catching a glimpse of Killua's dumbfounded expression. If one thing were true, it's that he does not understand women.

While Gon and Killua endured Bisky's brutal training during Greed Island, you had grown to like her. Despite her being 45 years older than you, you imagined she was the closest thing to what a big sister would be like. Or maybe a mom? You wouldn't know.

Unfortunately, you weren't special enough to escape her unforgiving training either. Bisky knew no mercy. While training their physical bodies, she also trained the trio's nen abilities.

Gon developed his special punch move by using the rock, paper, scissors of Chinese martial arts. Killua learned how to better channel his electricity, though Bisky had looked concerned when he first demonstrated it to her. You couldn't blame her. Killua's ability to withstand electricity only came from years of shock torture, and you noticed how he rarely mentions the fact that he still feels the pain. You caught on to it the night you watched his Heaven's Arena match, remembering his voice floating to the stands.

"𝘐'𝘮 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘤𝘢𝘭 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘐𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘦. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘴 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘐𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘴."

Your heart clenched for him every time you remember this fact. He has a tendency to hide his pain, in order to not burden his friends.

Then there's you, who Bisky took upon herself to help.

Since the day Wing opened your nen pores and declared you a Manipulator, you practiced your nen with Gon and Killua daily. When the time came to decide your special ability, the answer was as clear to you as a cloudless sky.

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘢𝘭 𝘦𝘭𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴.

Since then you'd been seen carrying around leather pouches of dirt, water, and vines wherever you went. It was a nice start, but it sure did make your back hurt. And of course, Bisky would not accept that. Ordering you to dump out all of your pouches to the ground, she had you draw out your power from the scattered elements that had begun already mixing with the dirt.

Unsure, you had hesitantly stretched out your arm and tried pulling from the water. It took you a number of tries to get it right. You had squinted long and hard, focusing on extending your nen to the elements around you. To your giddy surprise, small, sparkling droplets of H20 were separating from the glob of inky mud to float just a few inches above your hands. Concentrating harder, the droplets began orbiting one another. They looked like little planets.

Sensing the vines, you were able to control their movements too, even manipulating ones that hadn't originated from your leather pouch.

Bisky's wide smile was all that you needed.

From that day on, you only practiced manipulating whatever was around you. The earth was your ally.

"Well, what will you do once you find Ging?" Bisky's voice snapped you out of a daze.

"Naturally, I'll introduce him to Killua, my best friend in the whole world!"

"What am I, a roach?" You mocked, but couldn't keep a smile from spreading across your face.

Gon's unyielding positivity and bubbly voice was like honey to your ears. No one could ever doubt the adoration he held for his best friend.

"Stupid, cut that out! It's embarrassing," said Killua, turning red as a tomato. He looked away in an attempt to hide his embarrassment, except you were right there to catch his blush.

You flashed a mischievous smile to Killua. "You know, I think an I-Love-You-Too-Gon-I-Also-Think-You're-The-Best would suffice once in a while."

"Shut up."

Killua was as stubborn as ever. You are playfully rolled your eyes before turning your attention back to the rest of the group. Gon was inviting Bisky to come with them and meet Ging, but she had said something about not being interested in men who already have kids.

"If I stay with you any longer, I really will get too attached..." Bisky tried to mask it, but you've always been good at noticing little details. She was going to miss them. And truth be told, you were going to miss her too.

"The hunter world is a small place. We'll all see each other again in no time!" you reassured your friends. "See you later, Bisky."

"Take care, Bisky." Gon said his goodbyes, Killua nodding next to him.

⋯✰⋯

"Accompany on."

"Nigg!"

At that, a bright light enveloped all of them, streaking them through the sky. Every time you did this on Greed Island, you had always shut your eyes tight. You'd never get used to the feeling.

The next thing you knew, the three of you landed in an area thick with white fog. It was slightly chilly, causing you to shiver. A hundred feet in front of you was a tall sakura tree with roots so large they could be mistaken for a magical beast. It had to have been there for at least a couple hundred years. Soft, pink petals drifted in the wind, dancing around you and your friends. As your eyes focused, you noticed a shadowy man reclining on the tree's roots. Could it be Ging?

Before you realized what was happening, the mysterious man turned towards the three of you and opened fire on Gon.

Then, Killua was diving in slow motion and pulling Gon out of the way and the two of them were rolling on the ground holding onto each other. Getting a hold of your senses, you looked down at dozens of bullets that had made holes in the ground and noticed an injured ant lying motionless on the floor. The thing was completely decapitated.

"Now look what you've done, you killed an innocent soul!" you exclaimed to the man, pointing at the poor bug.

"That's not Ging..." Gon whispered.

"What was that all about?! First, you push us down, then you fire at us. Stop messing around!" Killua accused the Not-Ging.

After helping Gon back up, Killua examined the insect too. That is, before it ruthlessly attacked him.

"Oh. It wasn't dead," you stated the obvious.

The man quickly finished off the ant biting Killua's leg with his machine gun before scoffing at you. He took off the black jacket he was wearing, unveiling straight, platinum white hair so long it almost touched the floor. You could get a better look at him now. He was lanky, and the beret he wore casted a shadow over his eyes. If you had to guess, you'd say he's about 6'3. Just who was this man? Had God finally sent an angel to cleanse you from your sins?

"I was being dead serious. If I hadn't opened fire, you would have been attacked. That was no ordinary ant, it was a Chimera Ant."

"A what?"

"An aggressive, carnivorous insect that's been designated Quarantine Level 1. You three didn't realize it, but you were standing right in front of their nest. If I hadn't fired the moment I did, an army of Chimera Ants would have consumed all of you by now," the angel explained.

You gawked at his beautiful long locks, gracefully flying in the wind as he turned to leave.

Gon seemed to have recognized the man, asking something about if he were the one who had saved him back then. Gon told a story about being rescued from a fox bear, though it looked like he had remembered something else because he held his cheek as if he'd just been hit. For the first couple of seconds, the man looked at Gon like he was in denial about the person right in front of him. Then, like it was nothing, he called Gon by his name. And if by a miracle, he also knew Ging.

"My name is Kite. Ging was my master."

You nudged Killua, "Did you hear that?! He knows Gon's dad!" Killua looked just as shocked as you.

The three of you followed Kite to a small campfire as he told them stories about Ging, himself, and his current mission. You were thankful for the heat source, warming your hands against the flame as it was only getting colder as night fell. You cursed yourself for not being like Gon and Killua, who always had their long sleeve layers and could just strip them whenever the weather deemed it necessary. All you were wearing were burgundy shorts, combat boots, and a black t-shirt. And of course, your necklace. You reached your hand and held onto the choker pendent around your neck. It was all you had left of your home. Just holding onto the pink pendent brought you enough comfort to warm you from the inside out again.

The sun was beginning to set by the time you met Kite's friends and the cute dog that had taken a liking to Gon. Your eyes softened as you watched Gon play with the puppy, having found its sweet spot right behind its ear. He caught you staring, and flashed his pearly whites.

"Y/N, come rub his belly! He's so soft!"

Getting up from your spot next to Killua and wiping the dust off your shorts, you traveled to where Gon was now teaching the dog new tricks.

"How are you gonna teach him anything without any dog treats?" you asked, petting the little dog.

"With this!" Gon pulls out a handful of goldfish from his pocket. He tossed one to the pup, who caught it in midair.

You held in a laugh. "Gon, why do you just have goldfish lying around in your pockets like that?"

"You don't always have time to snack when you're training you know.. Plus, It's in a baggy!" He showed you the zip -block bag that was stuffed inside the pocket of his green shorts, bashfully rubbing the back of his neck. This time you couldn't help but let out a laugh.

"Oh I see, as long as it's in a bag, right? Can I see one?"

Gon nodded and put some goldfish in the palm of your hand. Looking for Killua, you spotted him sitting on a log watching as the sun set under the ocean's horizon. He looked so ethereal as the orange light reflected off of him. The light made his fluffy white hair shine, and a slight breeze made delicate strands wisp in the wind like snowflakes. You almost felt bad for disturbing the picturesque scene in front of you.

"Hey, Killua! Come feed this dog Gon's two-year-old musty goldfish with me!"

Yeah, you had ruined the moment.

"It's not two years old! I bought it in Yorknew," he whined.

"But it's musty?"

Killua walked up to the two of you with a questioning look, and you paused your bickering to hold open his hand and transfer the goldfish. The dog barked.

"I'm not sure, animals typically run away once they smell Mike on me," he said, referring to the oversized human-eating guard dog at the Zoldyck estate. Considering it's job was to deter people, you guessed that made sense. Still, you had faith that this innocent pup could show Killua some love. He needed the free therapy.

"Just try it!" Gon pushed.

Killua succumbed to Gon's request, holding the treat out to the tail-wagging puppy. Though, instead of taking the treat, it knocked Killua clean over, licking his face.

"What the heck— Help!" Killua desperately tried wiping the slimy slobber off of his lips.

"I think he's trying to kiss you." You giggled.

Mission accomplished!

"Kite did say that hunters are well-liked by animals. This means you're a great hunter, Killua!" Gon excitedly shared.

Killua offered a small smile. "I haven't passed the test yet, dummy."

⋯✰⋯

author's notes: hope you guys liked the first chapter! i'm excited to keep this story going!

[ibijau]

I blame @nillegible who dropped this amazing concept on the xisang discord,  then wrote a wonderful take on it and said it was fine if I played with it as well

Nie Huaisang wasn’t supposed to be in that part of Carp Tower, which was precisely why he was there. Nobody ever came around there anymore, not since Jin Guangyao had so virtuously turned his back on the demonic cultivation his father had encouraged and allowed to fester inside his sect.  Nie Huaisang had come there a few times during his days of investigation, never finding much of interest. He had figured out that it was the quietest place in all of Carp Tower, though, and he had often escaped there when forced to be in Lanling yet needing a moment to compose himself… and even now, with Jin Guangyao dead months ago, it was hard to keep his cool in enemy territory.

It did not help that Jin Rulan, after inviting him to Carp Tower to discuss new terms on a number of old treaties between their sects, had suddenly been taken by an emergency he could not explain. He had asked Nie Huaisang to stay as his guest until the matter was settled, promising it would be quick.

That had been over a week ago.

Nie Huaisang, this whole time, had done his best not to snoop around. It was no concern of his if Jin Rulan had to deal with emergencies, he refused to get involved unless he was invited to do so. The temptation was there to find out, certainly, but… Nie Huaisang was tired of other people’s secrets. So to avoid finding out anything, he mostly spent his days wandering in the gardens, or seeking peace in this abandoned part of Carp Tower. It was so quiet here, he could almost pretend that everything was fine.

The quiet was broken after he passed the door of a little building, and heard a shout.

“Uncle Nie!”

Nie Huaisang startled, and turned in the direction of the voice. He saw a child running his way from inside the building, the sight pulling at a heart he thought he no longer had. Without thinking, Nie Huaisang fell to his knees and opened his arms wide, letting the child throw himself at his neck before pulling him into a tight hug.

“Uncle Nie, you’re here!”

“SongSong?” Nie Huaisang gasped.

Before he could even fully process how impossible it was for that child to be here, more voices rushed their way. Still acting on instinct alone, Nie Huaisang stood up again, keeping the little boy in his arms. It was a relief when he saw Jin Rulan and Wei Wuxian rush out of that same building, meaning he probably wouldn’t have to fight after all. 

Wei Wuxian seemed to have less amicable thoughts about him. He frowned deeply when he saw that Nie Huaisang was holding the little boy so closely, and pulled out his flute as a quiet threat.

“Nie zongzhu, put down that child,” he ordered.

“Wei gongzi, I don’t think I could even if I tried,” Nie Huaisang retorted, feeling Jin Rusong’s grasp on him tighten, the little boy curling up against his chest in terror. “SongSong, have they scared you very much?”

“He says he’s LingLing,” the child muttered, pointing an accusatory finger at poor Jin Rulan who looked quite in shock over whatever was going on. “He’s not, LingLing is little like SongSong.”

“And you don’t know the other man either, so you became scared?” Nie Huaisang asked, smiling when Jin Rusong nodded and hid his face against his neck. “So my clever little SongSong decided to run for it. What a clever boy! Well, it’s lucky you found me. You know me well, right SongSong?”

The little boy relaxed a little, clearly happy to be receiving praise. He was always such a sweet child who soaked up affection like a sponge. Nie Huaisang used to adore him and to spoil him rotten whenever he could, even after having realised he would need to orphan him someday. He had cried for days after Jin Rusong had died, and again when he had understood why the child had died.

Or appeared to die, as seemed to be the case. The little boy in his arms was warm and very much alive.

“Put him down,” Wei Wuxian ordered again, glaring at Nie Huaisang.

“No, I won’t. Not right away. Hey, SongSong, it’s fine, these two are not bad people. They are my… they are uncle Lan’s friends. And we both know uncle Lan would never be friends with bad people, right?”

If the other two startled at those words, Jin Rusong eagerly nodded, and dared to glance in their direction with less fear.

“He’s not LingLing,” he insisted, pointing again at his cousin.

Jin Rulan, usually never showing any emotion but haughtiness or anger, made a grimace of anguish at the accusation. As was to be expected. He’d been young when Jin Rusong had died, but the two cousins had been raised like brothers, they had been so close before tragedy struck.

“I’ve told you, you’ve been very sick, A-Song,” Jin Rulan explained, taking a step toward his cousin and the man holding him. “I’m Jin Ling, I’m just… I’ve grown up a bit.”

“I don’t like it,” Jin Rusong retorted, tears pooling at the corners of his eyes. “I don’t like you. I want my mommy and daddy. Uncle Nie, take me to mommy!”

Nie Huaisang froze, that simple demand knocking the breath out of him.

It had been natural to pick up Jin Rusong and to comfort him, like something out of a memory, but suddenly reality caught up to him. He noticed the way Wei Wuxian looked at him with suspicion, with hatred almost, his posture ready for a fight. He saw the fear in Jin Rulan’s eyes, how he was clearly desperate to come steal back his cousin from the man who had…

Ah.

Nie Huaisang smiled as he knelt down again, trying to push the child away from him.

“SongSong, I think you should go with your cousin, actually. Look how strong he has become, don’t you think he’ll take good care of you?”

The more Nie Huaisang tried to free himself, the harder Jin Rusong clung to his neck, desperately clawing at him so he wouldn’t have to let go, leaving red lines on his skin.

“I don’t know them, I don’t know them!” he wailed, spilling heavy tears. “Uncle Nie, I don’t know them, stay with me! Take me to mommy!”

With a sigh, Nie Huaisang gave up for a moment and allowed the little boy to curl up again against him, his tears calming quickly. Earlier it had made him feel warm and happy to have this child in his arms. Now, it only amplified the hollowness in his chest, reminding him of things he used to have.

Watching them intently, Jin Rulan tilted his head before looking at Wei Wuxian.

“Maybe… if A-Song trusts him… You said it’s best if he stays calm for a while, right?”

Wei Wuxian’s frown deepened. His posture remained tense, but he nodded slowly.

“If Nie zongzhu is willing to help. Though I wonder how much of a surprise this situation is to him?”

It was Nie Huaisang’s turn to frown, though he made efforts to keep his body relaxed so he wouldn’t stress out poor Jin Rusong.

“If I had known that SongSong was alive, I would have made different choices on certain matters,” he stated in as pleasant a voice as he could manage. Jin Guangyao would still have needed to die, that had never been negotiable. But if he had known that Jin Rusong had survived the attack on his life somehow, then he would have been more careful of Qin Su’s well-being. In fact, Nie Huaisang would have kept certain things secret, so his nephew wouldn’t have to live with the infamy of his father’s sin. “I am willing to help though, if I’m allowed.”

Jin Ling and Wei Wuxian exchanged another look, before the young sect leader took another step toward Nie Huaisang and his cousin.

“A-Song, if Nie zongzhu comes with us, will you listen and be good?”

“I want mommy,” the little boy replied.

“Mommy can’t be with SongSong at the moment,” Nie Huaisang explained, glad for once that lying had become so easy to him. “Neither can daddy. But I think LingLing has important things to say, so why don’t we go back inside and listen to what he has to say?” Jin Rusong shook his head, looking ready to cry again. This called for desperate measures. “I’ll let SongSong play with my fan,” he offered. “Today, it’s one that has birds on it.”

Jin Rusong considered it for a moment. It used to be a game between them, Jin Rusong so fascinated by the pretty fans, Nie Huaisang desperate to protect them from clumsy and occasionally sticky hands. It used to make Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao laugh to see the two of them play fighting over fans.

It was odd to think of Jing Guangyo and Lan Xichen laughing, after everything.

But for Jin Rusong, those memories hadn’t been tainted. So he did not hesitate very long before nodding eagerly. It took a bit of a balancing act, but Nie Huaisang managed to pull out his fan of the way without having to put down the child. It made his heart clench to see with what care Jin Rusong slowly opened that fan, the shining smile on his face as he discovered the painted birds. It really was more than Nie Huaisang could handle so he turned to look at Jin Rulan and Wei Wuxian, fearful he would start crying in nostalgia otherwise.

“How is this possible anyway?” he asked. “I was there when… I was there. I saw it happen.”

“We’re not sure how exactly he did it,” Jin Rulan explained, motioning for Nie Huaisang to follow them back inside. “But A-Song has been kept in stasis all this time while uncle tried to find ways to heal him. He… there was something wrong with A-Song’s heart, so it was the only way uncle could keep him alive until he found a cure.”

Once they were inside, Jin Rusong’s attention drifted away from the fan for a moment, the child shivering in fear in Nie Huaisang’s arms. Not without reason. Not only was that building a medical practice of some sort, but in a corner stood the terrifying Ghost General himself. Well, he scared Nie Huaisang and Jin Rusong anyway, the child because he could probably tell this person wasn’t quite alive, the adult because he knew what that man was capable of, even if at that moment he looked all sorry and pitiful. 

It puzzled Nie Huaisang at first that this fierce corpse should be there, until he remembered who his sister had been. Medical miracles might have run in the family.

“Well, SongSong and I are listening,” Nie Huaisang said with a polite smile. “Why don’t the three of you explain this situation to us?”

Jin Rulan nodded, and took a deep breath.

“So, I was going through my uncle’s belongings a few months ago when I found this journal he kept. I couldn’t quite believe it at first, but I found another secret room and inside…”

[mc-critical]

Who do you think, out of the entire MC franchise, would you say was the best mother? I would honestly have to say Mahidevran since she was so nurturing and compassionate towards Mustafa (I loved their scenes together) and you could tell Mustafa’s safety always came first to her. What are your thoughts?

No mother of the franchise is perfect and as I’ve said before, there is no way mothers in the harem can develop a completely healthy (as we know it) relationship with their children. Still, I appreciate the various types of mothers we saw in MC/K and I usually love the scenes they have with their sons and/or daughters, since they enrich the characters and give them more humanity and depth.

I think I’ll also put Mahidevran as the best mother of the franchise. To be fair, one important writing advantage she possesses over the rest is that her relationship with Mustafa is probably the most fleshed out mother-son relationship of the entire franchise - we saw it develop in the span of four seasons and we saw every possible side of it. Mahidevran’s motherhood is a very vital aspect of her character: her love for Mustafa has always been there ever since her introduction and after she lost SS, Mustafa was all she had left. Everyone around her encouraged her to focus only on him and his upbringing. That didn’t seem so easy for a person who had yet to adapt to the immediate changes of her life and to accept the loss of a person that has undoubtedly been very important to her, but Mustafa has been there with her in every step of the way and the support they gave each other as early as S01 was very profound and human and I couldn’t help but tear up many times. And most remarkably, when she put her past in Manisa behind, when she truly focused the most on Mustafa, Mahidevran’s motherhood became a powerful indicator of her character development and I truly can’t think of another mother who evolved this beautifully.

Mahidevran has very strong motherly instincts outside of Mustafa and I loved how she saved Mehmet, the care she took of Mihrimah during the Janissary rebellion and the understanding she provided when Mehmet was struck with the arrow in E75. Hürrem also had equally strong motherly instincts during the same rebellion as well and I admire her for it, but one could argue it’s a little more surprising for Mahidevran to show them in such a way - back in S01, pre-E16, she didn’t seem to show signs that she could take care of the children of her enemy like that. Not many people would expect a person who has wished Hürrem’s death in her childbirths to do that at all. And yet she did. Once she saved Mehmet, we found out that she didn’t want the children’s deaths at all, even though she did make an attempt on Hürrem’s life when she was pregnant out of hurt and desperation. In fact, Mahidevran’s hate for Hürrem seems to be unbreakable, to know no bounds, except when it concerns the children. Once that happens, this is the only time she’s ready to let go. These are the only times she could ever understand Hürrem. The one scene where she herself went to her in good terms, to the point of her trying to return her ring, happened after she found out Hürrem protected Mustafa. It is clear that children and motherhood are important to Mahidevran, so important they can become the most important things in her life, so important she can leave her enmity with Hürrem for that and that alone. And conversely, her hatred for Hürrem reached the strongest peaks when it concerned Mustafa, as well: once he was exiled to Amasya and once he died, respectively, giving her a whole new motive to live and seek justice from the hands of God.

The advices (E55 and E56 aside) she gave to Mustafa are Mahidevran at her most perceptive - she speaks both from heart and experience and does her best at nurturing and caring for her son, understanding his struggles the way no one else could. Mustafa seeking vast support from everyone comes as much from her as it does from Ibrahim (I’m referring to this scene in particular) and while that sure is a double-edged sword when it comes to Süleiman’s opinion, it did motivate Mustafa to give his all to be the best heir he can be and gave him a certain upper hand over his brothers. Her advices are also her at her most decisive - showing that at this point, she knows what she’s talking about and can easily sense danger and warn accordingly. She has gained a fair sense of paranoia when it comes to his safety (understandably enough) and that is a factor of her advices as well, but it proves that she can be careful, that she isn’t as naive as she may look and that it’s not that easy to deceive her as it may have seemed.

Interestingly enough, before Mahidevran fell out of love with SS, she was fighting with her own loss and winning SS back and her hurt over it may seem to have taken primacy over the advantages she has as a mother. In E10, her first thought was Mustafa when SS appeared dead. Even in E55, she begins to look at her own possible advantageous position that comes with Mustafa only after Valide reminded her that she has her son. The falling out of love has started to the point she can openly think of her own future, but her feelings for SS were still conflicted and she could freely remember all the good times with him and lament them before she considered standing up. Her arc was moving back and forth between Mustafa, Süleiman and her own independence before she completed the full transition and had the chance to embrace the comparatively calmer environment and take full hand on Mustafa. Which is why Mustafa not being a priority at all is exactly Mahidevran at her worst. Due to her will for revenge, it was him she detached from to the point of her not wanting to go to Manisa with him in order to finish her battle with Hürrem in the form of ruling the harem. That was the only moment where she considerably detached herself from one of her best virtues and arguably did the most mistakes, culminating in a definite loss, for that moment. But we can say this was a learning experience for her, the cathartic process that granted her an entirely new push in strength and made her both a better character and a better mother than ever.

Yes, Mahidevran isn’t the perfect mother and she could inadvertently put Mustafa in danger due to her own personal pride being wounded (E48), her tears that could sometimes turn into breakdowns (E23) definitely affected him a lot to the point he was constantly willing to defend her, which, admittedly, could cause trouble (once again E48), but I could understand all this, because when everyone else doesn’t seem to alleviate your pain in the best way in your eyes, you become helpless when you have nobody else to confide in. For Mahidevran Mustafa was the only one she could truly confide in and he was her only tangible source of comfort when she’s pained to the point she can’t think rationally, in a way. There were definetly moments where she was ready to assert her own power through him, involving him in her fights. But once again, these things were stuff she developed out of, now indeed considering his safety first and foremost, telling him to stay away from any and all danger and to not provoke his enemies in any way. She became ready to eliminate all threats to him by herself and that’s also why she commited her biggest sin in the series: it was in a desperate, urgent attempt to protect Mustafa that she killed Mehmet. She thought only about him then, never about herself. (in E101 we see that Mustafa isn’t in the best condition after being exiled in Amasya to the point he was willing to not let anyone close to him and commit suicide and Mahidevran knew this, giving orders to Taşlicalı through Fidan to not leave him alone while she’s gone. With that I wanna thank Joanna for noticing this a while back! <33) She was ready to do anything and everything for him. Her path as a mother is heartfelt and fascinating to me.

I find Ayşe Hafsa to also be a very good mother, though. She was also the most notable in her advices and perceptiveness she delivered to SS. It was for a reason he thought of her as his conscience and seeing how he spiraled down massively after her absence, she may have been a huge part of his justice system, even though there were times where he disregarded her. She grounded him and told him which lines he shouldn’t cross just as she provided emotional support when he left for campaigns or went in the divan.

Her and Hatice are probably the best mother and daughter relationship on the franchise (Gevherhan and Kosem come as a close second), for there we saw genuine love and genuine support, as well. She fell ill precisely for the thought of her daughter’s pain after she learns about Ibrahim and Nigar. Hafsa is more tradition-bound and that may cause her to disregard her children’s wishes or cross paths with them quite a few times, but her motherhood is certainly one of her good qualities, especially when it shined through her flanderization in S02.

Despite of her cold pragmatism, Şah seemed to be a very good mother, all things considered. She was able to put Esmahan's wishes above her own by agreeing to try marrying her to Bali Bey and most importantly, sparing Lütfi Pasha for her sake alone.

I don’t consider Hürrem to be a totally bad mother by any means, especially how, as I mentioned, her motherly instincts can be as strong as Mahidevran’s, but there are factors where she falls a little short for me. One of them is screentime, to be brutally honest: we simply didn’t get much of her relationship with Mehmet for this reason, except for the schematic praise, hope for him to be the padisah and her not allowing him to go to the sanjack. We didn’t get much of her with Mihrimah in S03, either, even though their S03A relationship is the best part of it for me. I love her relationships with Selim, Bayezid and Cihangir much, much more writing-wise and my favourite point of Hürrem as a mother, as I mentioned once, is the S02B Cihangir arc. There we see her genuine concern over him that puts her motherhood to the forefront, we see how terrified she is of his incoming operation and that’s Hürrem at her most emotionally honest overall (and I wish we had more of that!). I love her protective mama bear attitude. I love how she managed to keep her children away from conflict in the earlier seasons (with the exception of little Mihrimah in S02A) and that certainly gave her some advantage.

Her problems as a mother, however, appeared later down the line and managed to prevail, with her mishandling of the Selim and Bayezid conflict being her biggest failing in the whole show for me. Her fixation on her enemies, or Mustafa in particular, dominated in how she dealt with her children in S04, to the point she moulded them for the political game, made pragmatic decisions she explained far too late (like why she sent Selim in Manisa), condemned them for their mistakes more than necessary (Mihrimah) and attempted to make them fully fixated on one goal, to no avail. I get her motives - Mehmet’s death empowered her will for revenge in an enormous way and she is now even more desperate to win the fight of her life that would help her make them respect her, ,,kneel to her feet’’ and defeat them all, but that way she had to make her children fully commit to that same fight, putting their personal feelings and desires behind and sometimes overlooking their own problems. She loves her children a lot and the realization that she had to choose between Selim and Bayezid broke her to pieces, but some problems manage to outweigh that. She’s an interesting, relatable in this time period, mother, but I certainly wouldn’t call her the best one of the franchise.

We didn’t see much of Nurbanu as a mother, but she certainly seemed to love Murad, but show strictness as well. We also saw how ruthless she can get when it comes to the survival of her and her son when she was about to kill Defne's kids.

Defne is a very nurturing mother, from what we saw. She's probably shown as a nurturer the most when it comes to all the mothers and her love and protection of her children is warm, yet heartbreaking, especially because she's ready to take risks she never had when Nurbanu comes for them. That scene was the peak of her removing her loyalties to her in general.

I wouldn’t compare the dynastic sultanas like Hatice or Gevherhan as mothers, simply because they’re not very often shown as such. Hatice wanted to have children so badly, but we didn’t see her much with her living children, which is solely a writing issue. Gevherhan isn’t seen as a mother that much to comment on it, either, even though yes, she clearly loves her children.

Safiye is another deal: she loves her children, but keeping her power has always taken primacy over them. Though it’s not to be denied that their deaths are moments of big vulnerability for her and indicators for the last ounces of her humanity - once Fahriye died, she seemed to have lost some of that humanity. Once Iskender died, she was finally willing to let go. But this humanity in her motherly relationships couples with her moments of disregarding them: as seen with Fahriye and especially, Humasah. There was a hinted resentment of Humasah’s of Safiye, and I’m sure there was a reason for it, despite of Humasah listening to her still in some cases.

Handan is a comparatively good mother. She also tries her best to protect Ahmet from stronger enemies and he is the reason she had fought this war against Safiye and Halime and ended up outranking them. One part she commited suicide was perhaps because she didn’t see any sign of acceptance in Ahmet of her love with Dervish, one of the few things that made her happy in the cage that is the castle. Getting such strong disapproval from her own son… it hurt.

I see Kösem as a mother that cares about her children, but is often forced to couple them with the needs of the country or caves in to the necessity to represent the traditions, as well as the country. That’s why she ended both Ibrahim and Murat, no matter how much she didn’t want to. Her whole arc was about the dilemma of representing the state and her own motherly persona and she fought the fratricide law so hardly, for no one to endure their children being killed no more. She knows best what is like to lose children and that also motivated her in doing what she considered right in ruling the empire, trying her best to stop any failings.

I elaborated in the past on why I think Halime and Gülbahar are very toxic mothers and I stand by these opinions.

I know the ask was about who is the best mother in the franchise, but I want to mention, for the second time, the worst mother in the franchise, is Turhan. Oh god, Turhan. She is the worst mother both character-wise and writing-wise - nor have we seen her show any affection for Mehmed at all, nor have we had that much time to see it, either. She is a one-dimensional thematic symbol, nearly devoid of vulnerability or humanity, and (even though that fits thematically, except for her relationship with her son) that also includes her son.

[hitsuackerman]

Why Did It Have to be Him? pt. 1 (Aizawa x Reader)

a/n: okay ya’ll this is purely self indulgent because i have been simping so hard for this man lately. anddd the fact that my guilty pleasure for Aizawa is student-teacher scenarios huhuhu (splashes holy water on self) that being said... i hope ya’ll like this :)

Warnings: Student-Teacher relationship, Age-gap, Cursing

Link to Part 2

Masterlist for other fics :) here

Today was like any other day.

You woke up and did everything that needed to be done. With how routine it had become, things were quite a blur. One moment you were changing in your house and the next you were now face to face with your fellow class 1-A people.

With the minutes dragging by, you could feel your heart beat faster. Fingers growing numb at the sensation of seeing him again. Heat building up between your thighs at the mere thought of his presence.

Despite the volume of the class rep's voice telling you all to sit down, your ears were more focused on the classroom doors. Any moment now, he would enter and the silent and devouring longing would happen once again. Your teeth instantly chewed on your inner cheek when the doors slid open.

"Okay, class." He began. "Change into your PE uniforms. We will work on your quirks today."

One by one, your classmates left the room. His eyes followed their movements one by one. Landing on you, he could feel his heart clench and his mind working overdrive. Both your eyes met yet no one dared to break the contact.

"Hurry up and catch up with the others." He instructed. "Tell them to be ready in 20 minutes."

"Yes, Aizawa-sensei."

He knew that look too well. The way your eyes would linger on his face and slowly make their way down. He could see how your pupils were dilated with the small distance between the two of you. How many weeks had this been going on? Placing a hand on your back, barely touching the fabric of your uniform, he led you out of the room and went to the teacher’s lounge.

‘Damn this.’ You cursed yourself. What started off as admiration came spiraling down after the Summer Camp incident. How did it end up like this?

Yes, you knew who he was. The moment he entered the classroom on the first day of class, the bandages and the dead look on his face was all too familiar. How could you not recognize one of your favorite heroes? Sure there was Vlad and All Might, but there was just something about your homeroom teacher that made you want to tug on the line of student and teacher.

This was just a crush, right? The way you can’t stop staring at him, how you’d want to run your fingers through his messy hair, or even just trace his jaw line with the tip of your finger. Just when you thought it would all stop, that’s when things went out of control.

You were currently aiding Recovery Girl in cleaning up the medical cabinets. She had just finished healing a rather nasty bruise on your thigh due to your clumsiness. Yes, there was still a patch of black and purple, but you opted not to have it bandaged since there wasn’t a need for it. As a thank you, you offered to help her finish the easier tasks.

When you were about to leave the school, you bumped into a skinny blonde figure.

“Young (L/N).” All Might called out to you. “I need your help. I cannot seem to find Midnight or Present Mic anywhere.”

Willing to help the number one hero, you followed him towards a lounge with Principal Nezu and Vlad all dressed up. However, all them seemed to be focused on the curled up yellow sleeping bag nested on the floor.

“We truly apologize for this inconvenience but we need your help.” Principle Nezu began. His small furry paws pointing towards your homeroom teacher. “Is there any way you can persuade him to leave his cocoon and change into something more formal? You may use your quirk if needed.”

“I’m not sure if he’ll listen, but I’ll try.”

Slowly walking towards the yellow caterpillar, you went on your knees and poked his back. Your fingertip felt just how soft the material was. No wonder he could sleep anywhere in this thing. Poking a little harder, there was still no response.

“Sensei…” You warned him. “If you won’t get up, I’ll have no option but to use my quirk on you.”

“You do realize you shouldn’t have told me that?” He turned around and faced you. His hair even messier than before. Eyes red from sleepless nights and the stubble thickening. “That wasn’t a smart thing to do.”

“But it did get your attention.” You replied. Tucking in a strand of hair behind your ear. A small smile on your face for winning his attention.

“They stooped that low to call a student…” Aizawa said as he finally unzipped himself from his yellow sanctuary. Relieved sighs could be heard around the room. Standing up, he took the suit and went to the comfort room to change.

Sitting down and basking in the awkwardness of the situation, your eyes darted to the screen. Reporters were now waiting for the two homeroom teachers to appear for an interview. Gritting your teeth, your mind wandered to Kirishima and the others who were now trying to rescue Bakugo.

Returning back to the room, Aizawa was now suited up and immediately your mind went boom. His hero costume did a fine job in hiding all those muscles. Absentmindedly swallowing your saliva, your eyes savored the view of a clean Eraserhead. Your theory had been proven right, his binding gear really covered his broad shoulders.

“Do me a favor and hold this.” He asked. Handing over his gear.

Not expecting it to be a little heavy, your eyes widened and your thoughts ticked. Every single minute, he had to carry this around. No wonder he’s got a good back. Feeling the sofa dip, you glanced at your homeroom teacher.

‘My god. His side profile. Holy shit he looks so handsome.’

Bringing up his hands, he began to rub his face. A small grunt escaping his mouth. Rummaging his pocket, he took out his eye drops and finally gave himself the relief he needed.

“It’s not good to stare, (L/N).” He commented as he returned the eye drops in his pocket.

‘Shit. I stared for too long. Crapcrapcrapcrap.’ Your cheeks burned from embarrassment. Thankfully, the other people in the room were too busy staring at the monitor. Say something, you told yourself.

“I, uh, I was just thinking that maybe you should lose the stubble.” (Y/N). HOW IDIOTIC COULD YOU BE? “I-I-I don’t mean it that way. It’s just that it would make an impression to the reporters that the school is really taking things seriously…”

Aizawa just stared at you. He knew you were chewing your inner cheeks. The way you held on to his binding gear tightened. But the slight tint of pink on your cheeks made him wonder. You were still feeling things after all this time? Maybe he might take your suggestion. Of course for the media, not for his student.

Excusing himself, you heard the doors open and close once more. Mentally, you slapped yourself. You could smell it now, detention and maybe a bit of scolding. Your shoulders fell and you began to fidget with the cloth.

“Okay, everyone, remember what we talked about.” Principal Nezu began. His small feet tapping on the ground. This was the first time you saw him all serious. Facing you, his eyes scanned the room and back at your sitting body. “Where’s Aizawa?”

“He probably forgot something.” You replied.

“Tell him to immediately go into the press room once he arrives.” Upon receiving your confirmation, both he and Vlad exited the room. When they opened the doors, you heard the cameras flashing and the murmurs of all the reporters.

“Are you alright?” You asked All Might. The look on his face seemed rather disturbed. His phone trembling in his fist.

“If you’ll excuse me, young (L/N). I have to attend to this urgent matter.” The tone of his voice laced with anger and concern. And just like that, you were left alone in the lounge. The sound of the monitor bouncing on the walls to cover up the silence.

You jumped a bit when the doors opened once more. Strands of Aizawa’s binding gear fell to the floor. Quickly picking and putting them back into place, your eyes landed to your homeroom teacher once more. For a moment, your breath hitched.

Even though his hair was messy, you saw that he was now clean shaven.

‘Holy mother of gods. That is a sin, right there.’ Not wanting to linger on him, you focused on the screen and tried to cancel the steps of his footsteps going towards you.

“Is this okay?” His voice was tired and dead. Yet there was a tiny bit of curiosity in them.

“Y-yeah…” Stare at anything but his face. Save your pride and respect the line. You repeat to yourself. “They, uh, Principal Nezu said you should head over to the interview room when you arrive. And now that you're here, you should go to them.”

“Thank you.” That’s all he said. 

Straightening his tie, you couldn’t help but look at him. When he finished, he looked at you. Almost as if he were asking if it was straight enough. Giving him a thumbs up, you furrowed your brows when he took something out from his other pocket.

‘Does he have two eye drops or something?’ You wondered.

Taking a hair tie out, he fingered through his hair and tied it in a half up half down.

‘OH MY GOD. HOW CAN HE HIDE SUCH A FACE?! HOLY SHIT.’ If anything, you were sure your jaw had dropped and it was all to clear that you were thirsting for your teacher right there. Being hypnotized by his kept look, you failed to realize that he had inched his way closer and closer till he was only a step away from you.

“(L/N).” His voice was low and husky. Authoritative but restrained. “You know I do not tolerate any of this.”

You snapped yourself back to reality. Bowing your head with embarrassment, you took a step back to give him space.

“I apologize, sensei. I didn’t mean to.” The beating of your heart echoed to your ears. You were sure he could hear them at that distance. “It won’t happen again.”

With that, he left you alone and proceeded to join the interview.

Letting go of the breath you had been holding, you clenched your chest and flopped to the sofa. Breathing in and out, you tried to calm yourself and the situation that had just unfolded. Biting your lower lip, you held onto the fabric and let a few tears slip from your eyes. Expelled. You were sure of it.

With the interview over and the gut wrenching fight of All Might versus All For One, you decided to drop everything and go home. There were just too many happenings for a single day. The comfort of your own bed and a tub of ice cream was all you wanted at this point.

“Excuse me, but I really should get going.” You informed the group.

“Take a taxi.” Principal Nezu offered. “You may drop by my office tomorrow for a reimbursement.”

“It’s okay, Principal Nezu. My house is only a 20 minute walk from here.” You bowed and bid farewell.

“(L/N).”

‘Crap. Is he going to expel me now? Why can’t this wait till tomorrow and not in front of everyone… fuckfuckfuck.’

“You are my responsibility. I’ll walk you home.” Aizawa said. Not even waiting for a response, he said his goodbyes and left the room with you.

The walk towards your home was nothing but awkward silence. His coat hung on his arm while his binding gear rested on his shoulders once again. Footsteps and the occasional honking of the horn were all you could here. The minutes dragged by slowly and you wanted to make a run for it to save yourself.

Finally, you spotted your apartment. That felt like the longest 20 minute walk you’ve ever had.

“This is my stop. Thank you for taking me home.” You bowed.

“How did you get that bruise?” He asked. His eyes resting on your thigh. The look on your face told him you had forgotten it was there in the first place.

“I fell down the stairs.” You responded. Scratching your cheek.

Crouching down, he inspected the bruise.

‘What the hell are you doing, Shota? Do not touch her skin.’ He internally yelled at himself. There was really nothing to it, he reminded himself. All he needed to do was to poke the bruise and give you the necessary treatment for it.

Shivers crawled down your spine when you felt his calloused finger touch the purple patch of skin. The moment he poked it, you felt your stomach tingling and heat building up. When they said there was a thin line between pain and pleasure, they weren’t kidding on that one. Feeling him poke it once, your breath hitched and a small, barely audible, moan escaped your mouth.

‘Oh god. Oh god. He did not hear that. He definitely did not hear that.’

But he did.

‘Stop this right now, Shota. She’s a goddamn student.’ The small moan you made was enough to make him curious. The rationality of this situation was screaming negativity. However, your skin was just so soft to the touch. And that moan? He wondered what other sounds could he make you do. ‘Fuck. No. This is Wrong.’

Standing back up, he cleared his throat and placed his hand in his pocket. He felt his heat rising and definitely did not want you to see that. Thank goodness it was dark.

“Sorry about that.” His eyes still fixed on you. “Recovery Girl did a good job on healing it. Just give it some ice therapy and it’ll be gone in a few days tops.”

“I will. Thank you for the tip.” You took your keys from your bag and gave him a shy smile. The touch of his skin on yours still lingering on your senses. “I better get inside now.”

“I shall take my leave then.”

With that being said, you unlocked the door and went inside. Not wanting to look back knowing just how delicate the line was. Once the hatch clicked, you slid down to the floor and tried to gather your thoughts. Times like these you were glad you lived alone.

“Why did it have to be him? Why did he have to touch my thigh? Why did you have to moan? Fuckfuckfuck” Burying your face in your palm, you scolded yourself why you let your emotions get out of control.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the door, Aizawa had let his hair down. The chilly wind brushing his face. His unwanted friend had now settled down. His focus was on his hand. Specifically his finger. It was only for a few seconds but all he wanted was to maybe have one more opportunity to touch your skin. Clenching his fist, he placed it back into his pocket.

“What the hell did you just do, Shota?”