#i wish i could have made it better but i'm at work sorry anon

[hughiecampbelle]

The Boys Preference: Lashing Out And Regretting It

Requested: heyya! love how you write the boys characters you got them so well just like how they are on the show. if its okay and if its a good idea, may i request an imagine with the boys and homelander and their reaction after they and reader got into an argument, getting to the point where they told reader some hurtful things and told reader to leave because they dont need reader or reader is nothing to them/is useless. they just say this because they’re angry but reader takes their word to heart and did just as they said. now they cant find reader or finding it hard to locate reader. could be platonic or familial. thank you! - anon

A/N: Screaming I love this!!! I live for the angst!!! I'm so sorry I've been so slow with requests my loves! I hope you can understand! Feedback is always appreciated! 💜💜💜

Requests are open! 🔮

Butcher embarrassed you in front of everyone. Yelling and screaming, calling you useless, all because Samer got away. You were a little too occupied with Kimiko and Frenchie to realize, opting to save your friend than chase after him. Both Kimiko and Frenchie were eager to come to your aid, but he shut them down. He got in your face and he humiliated you, said the team was better off without you. You left without a word, ignoring your friends who begged you to stay. You left your phone behind, knowing they'd call and text, apologizing for him. You were good at your job, the best even. You and Butcher have worked together a long time. This was your first mistake in a long time and he couldn't let it go. You were done. You packed a bag and disappeared. When they realized they couldn't reach you, they split up, looking at your apartment and usual hang outs. No one had seen you. Suddenly Butcher can feel his heart in his stomach. Regret spread through his chest. Everyone was pissed at him, but no one was angrier at him. He never should have done what he did. Now you were gone. Who knows when you'd show up again?

Hughie regrets it immediately. He said what he said because he was angry, and stupid, and awful. You left the night of the Tek Knight party. You were a Supe, a powerful one, but for whatever reasons, your abilities weren't what they used to be. You argued with him, saying he shouldn't go in alone. It came out before he realized, before he could take it back. Right now, he was more powerful than you were. What right did you have telling him what to do when you couldn't do your single job? The look on your face, the horror and hurt, it made him sick to his stomach. He tried to apologize, to explain, but you were done. You threw your hands up, wishing Hughie and the rest a safe mission, but you were done. M.M. assured him it was better to go through with it than run after you, so he did, but the whole time he's thinking about you. He doesn't find you at the office or apartment. You disappeared. They tried to track you, find you, but they hit wall after wall. You'd show up again, they all told him, you just needed time. He'd never felt so guilty in his life.

Annie didn't think you were trying hard enough. It didn't seem like you cared anymore. Not about the team, or taking down Homelander. You seemed like you were just going through the motions. She meant to just talk with you, but things escalated pretty quickly. As soon as she said the words, she knew she was in the wrong. You were becoming a liability to everyone involved. If you were done, burned out, then just say that. Leave. But if you wanted to be a part of this team, if you really cared, you'd stop being so useless. Truth was, you were tired. You were tired of everything. There was no name calling or fighting back. You didn't have it in you. You got up and you walked out, pushing past Butcher and the rest who were just walking in. Annie goes to follow you, but you just pick up your pace. She calls and texts, but you never answer. Everyone says to give you your space, but she can't let it go. She shows up at your place which is completely empty. It fills her with so much shame. She apologizes profusely, asking you to come back, but she never gets a response.

M.M. is reactive and angry and he knows what he's done is wrong immediately after. He's been in charge of this team and so far all you've been is negative. You've lost your faith in the team. He understands, he gets it, but for the sake of everyone involved, he needs you to look on the bright side. If there isn't one, he needs you to make one. He ends up blowing up at you while you're waiting for Hughie as Webweaver. You tell him, Annie, and Kimiko that you have a bad feeling about this, a terrible feeling, but it was too late to do anything. Hughie was already inside. He knows now is not the time nor place, but he loses it. If you can't have faith in the mission, in your teammates, then you shouldn't be here at all. Your attitude problems only hurt morality and it was worse than useless, it was dangerous. Annie and Kimiko try to de-escalate the situation, but you've made up your mind: you're done. You leave without a second thought, wishing them a safe mission. Because they're all occupied, no one can really do anything about it. After his panic attack, Marvin sees just how right you were, but when he calls it goes right to voicemail. When it seems like you disappeared, he does everything he can to track you down. You don't want to be found, though.

Frenchie fights with you after Samer gets away. It was the three of you that were in charge of him and you let him get away. You didn't have any fight left in you. It was your fault. He must've been working on the cuffs for weeks. You trusted him and you let Kimiko get hurt. You know that's the reason he's so upset: because he had to cut off her leg to save her. She could have died. You know what she means to him. And yet, he goes a little overboard. Everyone thinks so, yelling at him to stop when he's gone too far. You were useless. You let Samer get away, you let Kimiko get hurt, you failed at every single job you were given. He can see the look of hurt on your face and finally stops, the room left in a heavy silence. You grab your coat and you leave. There was no use in fighting with him, he was right. Annie and Hughie called after you, pleading with you to stay, but you waved them off, storming out. When they don't hear from you, they all start to worry. You sent a single text to Frenchie before turning off your phone. Tell Kimiko I'm sorry. Feeling guilty, he goes to your place. You're not there though, and neither are your immediate belongings: wallet, keys, phone, some clothes. He has to do something to fix this, to make things okay.

Kimiko is really hurt you turned yourself in alongside Frenchie. The guilt was eating you alive, all the things you've ever done. It was horrible. It was unforgivable. When you come back alongside Butcher, who insists you and Frenchie can replicate the virus, you can't stand to look at her. She wants to talk with you, to ask you why, and eventually, when you get a little alone time, she does. Of course she would understand, your upbringings were cruel, brutal, and it lead you down this road, but you couldn't move on. You couldn't forgive yourself. Kimiko was pissed. Did you really think it was that easy? Did you really think you were the only one eaten alive by guilt and shame and self-hatred? She was signing at you furiously, as close to yelling as she could get. You were so smart, so intelligent, and yet you were wasting your talents wanting to rot away in prison! If you were going to throw your talents away and hurt the team and hurt her and become a useless nobody, then what was stopping you? Certainly not her, not any of your friends. You don't have it in you to fight back. You don't have anything left in you, not anymore. She tries to get your attention when you leave, but you don't look back. When none of them hear from you, Kimiko begs The Boys to do everything they can to find you. Please, she has to make things right.

Bonus! Homelander cuts people out of life left and right. Still, you never thought he would turn on you. And yet, when you don't know who the snitch is, when you're not closer to pinpointing the culprit, he loses it. His eyes even heat up, though he catches himself, calming himself down. Firecracker interrupts his yelling, foolishly, but in the end it saves you from hearing anymore about how pathetic, useless, stupid you are. That you don't deserve to be a part of The Seven, you don't deserve to be a Supe at all. He goes off with her, believing it was Webweaver all along. You don't know how much time you have, but you know, in order to avoid his wrath, you have to leave right away. Get some space between you so that he can cool off, if he ever does. You took it as a pretty clear way of saying that you were out, you lost his trust. You weren't a friend anymore, you weren't anything anymore. Firecracker had saved the day. Again. When he comes back, covered in blood and no closer to finding the narc than he was before, he goes looking for you. He searches the entire city, but you've disappeared completely. Vanished.

[recklessmark]

i can help

Pairings: Manipulative step dad Mark x Innocent afab reader

Summary: You're hurt by your breakup but determined to make your step father feel better after finding out that you’ve made him hurt almost every day for the past few months

Genre: smut

Warnings: unprotected sex (be safe!), infidelity, daddy kink, virginity sex, masturbation, coercion and heavy manipulation, degradation, dirty talk, breeding.

Word count: 4k

A/N: to the anon that sent the ask of step dad mark, this is not exactly what you imagined. i twisted the story a little bit... hope you like it :)

It had been a long fucking day. A long week to be honest. 

But today was an interminable marathon of work that left Mark weary. The clock struck 4 a.m. and he yearned for the solace of your voice, a lifeline amidst the storm. Despite the ungodly hour, he dialed your number, his heart praying fervently that you would answer. And when you did, a familiar rhythm of "hi" and "how are you?" began, like a soothing melody as he took off everything but his underwear and slipped under the covers. 

“When do you come back?” You asked, making him smile. 

"Just a few more days, my princess. I promise," he assured, his voice a balm to your restless soul.

"Okay," you replied softly, vulnerability seeping into your tone. Then, in a hushed confession, you added, "I miss you."

His throat emitted a low, smoldering chuckle, envisioning the delicate blush that surely adorned your cheeks. “I miss you too, sweetheart. What have you been up to though?” 

You rambled on about your day, telling him about how you  made cookies earlier for Henry—your idiotic boyfriend, and that you were quickly growing bored in the mostly empty manor and your completely empty apartment. His wife—your mother—had been out of town for five days, and even if she was present, it still felt like she’s invisible. Sometimes, Mark felt sorry for you, but he was also thankful for that because it meant he was the one that took care of you.

He tried to pay attention, honestly he did. But he hasn’t touched his cock in almost a week because of how busy he’s been on the business trip and he missed the sound of your voice. So what else was he supposed to do when his cock fattened up in his briefs? 

When you started talking about this argument you had with your boyfriend, he tuned out your words a little bit, just listening to the softness of your voice, imagining the pretty little whimpers you could make with it. Pushing the covers and his underwear down, he freed his cock and instantly took it in his hand, stroking slowly. His breathing started to change a little, growing heavier and faster, making you trail off in the middle of your sentence. 

“Don’t stop talking, princess.” He rasped, hand speeding up. 

“Are you okay?” You asked quietly. 

“I’m perfect. Your voice is just so soothing, baby. Keep talking.” 

“O-okay.” You continued hesitantly, telling him about how you were so sad after the argument, wishing he was there to give you advice, or just simply provide comfort for you. You also told him about how you’ve been having trouble sleeping since you can’t come to his room in the middle of the night after having a nightmare. God- he fucking misses that too. It’s one of his favorite things, being able to caress your body or grind against you while you sleep, never waking up because of how safe you feel in his arms. When he let out a quiet grunt, you stopped again. 

“Are you sure you’re okay? What was that?” 

“I’m so good, princess. Keep going.” He tried not to moan through the words. 

“Okay…” He swiped a thumb over the tip and took in a sharp breath, making you stop again. “Why are you breathing weird, Daddy?” 

“Baby, I'm not.” He sighed. “I promise I'm okay. If you don’t want to keep talking, we don’t have to.”

“No!” You said quickly, because of his tone. “I didn’t mean it like that, I was just worried.” Instead of letting him reply, you continued talking about random things that have happened while he’s been away. Every once in a while he’d let out a sound to let you know he was listening, a grunt disguised as a sound of acknowledgement, but you bought it. 

He started tuning out your words again, just focusing on the soft lull of your sleepy voice. You being sleepy is probably his favorite thing, closely followed by you being scared or in pain. You’re so pliable, so easy to manipulate. He can caress your tit or your ass and pass it off as an accident, or even tell you that he can’t sleep in clothes, only underwear, and that it’s perfectly normal for your step father to sleep almost naked beside you whenever your busy mother is away. Sometimes, if he’s really lucky, he can convince you that you won’t be comfortable in those modest pajamas you wear and that you’ll be able to sleep much better in just his shirt. And you almost always agree. 

He stroked his cock even faster, quickly nearing his orgasm after so long without one, and when he cursed under his breath, then let out a long, quiet groan, you trailed off again. 

You did your best to keep speaking, stuttering through the sentences, but it fell on deaf ears as he came, thinking about how fucking hot it was that you didn’t even know.  When his noises quieted and he was slightly panting, you decided to ask again. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“I’m perfect, baby.” He sounded significantly more tired and relaxed, but he knew you’d be too stupid to put it together. “You’re so good for me- my good girl. Thank you, princess.” 

“You’re welcome…?” You asked, confused, but he wasn’t going to bother explaining. “Are you tired now?” 

“Just a little, but I can stay up for you.” He murmured, grabbing a tissue from the nightstand to wipe his come off his stomach, cock twitching as he imagined you licking it off him instead. 

“You don’t have to. I’m tired too.” He knew you well enough to know that was a lie. 

“How about we go to sleep, but don’t hang up. How does that sound?” 

“Okay, yeah. Thank you, Daddy. I love you.” You said quietly, but he could practically hear the smile in your voice.  

“I love you too, princess. Sweet dreams.”

He knew he would at least have some. 

"Mark?" you whispered, your voice trembling through the narrow gap of the door. He stirred in bed, the sheets slipping down, revealing his bare chest. Sensing your distress, he sat up, his eyes filled with concern.

"Another bad dream?" he asked softly, his voice a gentle caress that soothed your frayed nerves. Nodding in confirmation, you stepped inside, drawn to the comfort of his embrace. With a tender gesture, he lifted the covers, inviting you to slide beneath them. Curling up against his chest, you sought solace in his presence as his arms enveloped your trembling form.

"Did I wake you?" you whispered, your voice laced with guilt, your vulnerability laid bare before him. Whenever your mother is away doing god-knows-what, you always find yourself slipping into her bedroom. You didn’t know if it’s the right thing to do to sleep next to your mother’s husband without her knowing it, but it’s easier to fall asleep with Mark, especially when you have one of those nightmares.

"Nah, couldn't sleep," he replied, his fingers tracing soothing patterns along your back, an attempt to chase away your anguish. "Just had a lot on my mind. But let's focus on you. Do you want to talk about your dream?"

Tears welled up in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you struggled to find your voice. It wasn't a nightmare that had shaken you to the core—it was something far more devastating. With a quivering breath, you finally managed to utter the words that weighed heavily on your heart.

"It's not... not a dream," you choked out, the truth hanging heavy in the air. "I... I broke up with Henry."

Mark's lips pressed together, a concealed smile tugging at the corners. Beneath the guise of sympathy, he masked his true sentiments, knowing all too well that Henry was a pitiful fool who never deserved someone as exquisite as you. But he had bided his time, refraining from openly expressing his disdain for the fucker while you remained entangled in a relationship. Now, as the truth spilled from your lips, he adopted a pretense of speechlessness, his feigned sympathy coating his words.

"Well, that's unexpected," he mumbled, his voice veiling his true satisfaction. "I'm sorry, baby."

The words lingered, a heavy silence stretching between you. And then, the floodgates opened, tears streaming down your cheeks as the weight of your decision crashed upon you. Mark held you tighter, his touch a lifeline amidst the wreckage of your shattered relationship.

"It's okay," he murmured, his voice a seductive lullaby, its dark undertones weaving a tapestry of comfort. With tender care, he wiped away your tears, his touch a balm for your wounded soul. "I'm here for you, always. Let it out, let it all out."

Sobs wracked your body as you clung to him, your tears staining the fabric of his embrace. “I really like him…” you cried out, your voice trembling with a mix of desperation and pain.

"I know," Mark grunted, his voice laced with a hidden jealousy that he fought to conceal. "But I don't think he's good for you."

Looking up from his chest, a slight frown etched upon your features, you questioned. “How do you know?”

He sighed, his thumb tenderly caressing the crease between your brows. “This is not the first time you cry because of him, is it?”

Your lips pursed, your gaze thoughtful as it rested upon him. Mark's words held an undeniable truth—your relationship with Henry had seldom been a source of genuine happiness. He craved excitement, always seeking something more, while you, plagued by fear, hesitated to embrace life's adventures. It had been a ticking time bomb, waiting to implode.

"Did I ever make you cry, baby?" Mark asked, as if seeking confirmation that your ex was a douchebag. A soft shake of your head earned a tender smile from him. "You see, he's not the right person if he fails to bring you happiness."

His words resonated in the air, mingling with the breathless silence surrounding you. Mark's lips brushed against the crown of your head, a gesture filled with an enigmatic tenderness. The nature of your bond remained a mystery, veiled in shadows, yet whenever you were near him, your stomach fluttered and your mind grew weightless. Whenever he touches you, it always feels good. Not a normal good though. It makes your core start to ache and you feel like you have to pee. The more you continued thinking about it, the more you started to feel it. 

"Daddy?" you ventured timidly, your voice barely a whisper. He emitted a low hum, granting you permission to continue and you tried to let the vibrations of his chest calm you. “How come whenever you touch me, it... it makes me feel... weird?"

His hand froze on your back, and a sudden tension enveloped the room, causing you to stiffen, worried you said something wrong.

"Weird how?" Mark's voice echoed with a mixture of curiosity and apprehension. Your cheeks flushed, warmth blossoming beneath your skin as you struggled to find the right words.

"Good weird," you managed to confess, your voice laced with uncertainty.

A silent pause hung in the air, before Mark's hand resumed its soothing motions on your back, as if trying to quell the charged atmosphere between you. With a voice heavy with anticipation, he asked, "Where does it feel good?"

Your breath hitched, your mind racing, as you summoned the courage to answer. "My tummy... and... and my..." This time, it was Mark who stiffened beneath you, his reaction palpable.

“Where, princess?” He urged you to continue, but you just whined softly and buried your face in the sanctuary of his chest. Sensing your hesitation, his free hand ventured boldly, brushing against your inner thigh with a teasing caress that sent shivers coursing through your veins. With a featherlight touch, he trailed his fingers upward, barely grazing the fabric that concealed the heat between your legs. You jumped at the sudden touch.

“Here?” He rasped. A nod escaped your lips, accompanied by a barely audible affirmation, "Mhm."

“Do you know what this is?” That made you frown— you’re not stupid. 

“Of course I do.” Your tone made him chuckle under his breath. 

"Have you ever touched here before?" His gruff words ignited a tremor within you, nearly eliciting a whimper as you confessed the truth.

"No... I'm not supposed to," you muttered, feeling your hips instinctively seek the pressure of his fingertips.

“Who told you that?” You knew if you looked at him, he’d be frowning. 

“School…” You said quietly. You never like to talk about the fact that you went to a religious school– people always make fun of you for it. He hummed in acknowledgment, then removed his hand, making you let out a needy whine and buck your hips forward. Instead of responding, he just took your hand, and gently moved it down, under the covers. When he placed it on his bulge, you gasped and tried to remove it, but he held you there, making you feel him. 

“You know what this is?” He asked and you bit your lip as you nodded. “Good. Do you know why I’m hard?” This time, you shook your head. “Because of you, princess.” 

“Me?” You lifted your head to look at him. 

“Mhm. Always you. Everytime you sit on my lap, cuddle with me, whimper when we spar and I go a little too rough– you always make me so hard, baby.” You stared at him with wide eyes, watching the his dark-browns almost completely disappear from the size of his pupils. “And everytime, I have to come in here or go to the bathroom and jerk myself off to make it better. And it’s all your fault.” That made your face tighten in a grimace. 

“I’m  sorry. I didn’t mean to…” He brushed some of your hair behind your ear then cupped your cheek, placing his thumb on your bottom lip. 

“It’s okay, baby. But if you want to make me feel better, you have to do something.” You wanted to help him, you wanted to make up for all the times you made him feel like this. 

“What? I’d do anything.”

Instead of answering, he just helped you on top of him, so your front was completely pressed to his. You placed your hands on his chest and he grabbed your hips, then started dragging your core over his bulge. 

“Anything?” He asked.

You nodded, holding down a whimper. “Just wanna make you feel better, Daddy.” 

“Good girl. You’re so good, princess.” He cooed, giving you a soft smile that made your heart flutter. “Have you ever kissed anyone before?” 

“Only once with Henry,” you said quietly, glancing away from him, embarrassed at your lack of experience. 

“Good.” He all but growled. Mark removed a hand from your hips and placed it on the back of your neck, then pulled you down, only stopping once your lips brushed his. Your eyes fluttered shut in anticipation, you weren’t sure what to expect from this. 

Finally, he pressed his lips to yours, slowly kissing you to get you used to it. After a moment, he deepened the kiss. The warm, wet sensation on your lips made you gasp and he slid his tongue in your now open mouth. It was weird. But it feels good.

By now, your hips were rutting against his as you grew more desperate. He was barely guiding your movements anymore while you chased the pleasure. When he pulled back, your eyes fluttered open, lips still parted and chest heaving. You never knew kissing could feel like that. Your step father must have some magic because it didn’t feel like that with your ex. That thought made you freeze. 

“W-wait, we shouldn’t be doing this. You’re my step dad and– I was supposed to wait until marriage.” You said quietly. 

“I thought you said you wanted to make Daddy feel better?” He frowned, making your stomach drop. 

“I- I do, but,” 

“There’s no “but.” Either you want to help me or you don’t.” He had a look of disappointment and anger that was intensified by a frown. “You’re the reason I feel like this. You seriously just want to leave me in pain?” 

Pain? You didn’t know it was hurting.

“It hurts?” You squeaked, brows furrowing in concern. 

“You’ve never heard of blue balls?” You shook your head, so he continued. “It’s incredibly painful, sweetheart. Only feels better once I can bury it in a tight, warm cunt. And you’ve made me feel like this for months.” 

“I- I’m sorry, Daddy, I didn’t know…” You whimpered, chest aching at the thought of you being the cause of his pain. 

“I don’t forgive you. Not yet anyway.” Tears welled in your eyes from his words. 

“I want to help. Please,”

He shushed you and cupped your cheek again. “You sure?” 

“Please. Wanna make you feel better.” You whimpered and the corners of his lips turned up at your words. 

“Okay, princess. I’ll let you help me.” 

“Thank you.” Before you could even finish, he was rolling you both over so he was on top. He settled between your legs and leaned up on his knees. 

“First, this has to come off.” He said, grabbing the bottom of your shirt and pulling it off. “You’ll only really be able to make me feel better if you’re naked.” He explained, when he saw your confused expression. “These too.” He pulled your sleep shorts and panties down your legs, making you blush. Letting out a low groan, he swiped his thumb through your folds, then circled your clit lightly, making your hips buck into the friction.  

“You’re helping already.” He smirked and you glanced at the tent in his underwear. It didn’t look like you were helping. You whined when he removed his hand, but he quickly moved down to your hole and inserted a finger, letting out a low groan at your tight heat. 

As he fingered you, he debated what to do. While part of him wanted to prep you, make it as easy on you as possible, a larger part wanted to fuck your virgin cunt right now, before it could get any looser. He didn’t have to think about it for a second longer before he was removing his finger and shoving his pants down his thighs. When you saw his cock, your eyes widened as your lips parted in shock at his size. He took it in his hand and stroked it slowly. 

“Just the tip, okay? I promise, baby. Just need to put the tip inside, then Daddy will feel better.” He said, to ease your anxiety. You whined, but agreed anyway. He leaned over you and you wrapped your arms over his shoulders as he lined his length up with your hole.

“Relax, princess. It’s okay.” He whispered against your ear. You couldn’t help but obey. It took a lot of pressure before his cock was able to breach your hole. Once he pushed in though, you tensed up again. 

“Hurts, Daddy. It hurts…” You whimpered, eyes burning with unshed tears. Your pussy was trying to force him out, not used to the intrusion yet. 

“I know, baby. Just relax.” His voice was strained with arousal and he reached a hand down to rub circles on your clit, making walls flutter around his cock. “Fuck, that’s good.” He groaned, resting his forehead in the crook of your neck. 

“God- I know I said just the tip, but it feels so good. Can you take just a little bit more?” 

“Daddy please, it hurts…” You whined. 

“I know, princess. You gotta relax, it’ll feel good soon.” He slowly pushed in farther and you cried out, digging your nails into his back. “So fucking good. Your little cunt feels so good.” He said through a moan. He pulled back, then pushed in again, continuing the slow rhythm. 

“This is just what I needed, baby. You’re doing such a good job for me.” You tried to focus on his words and the stimulation on your clit, rather than the constant pain from the stretch. “Good girl. Good fucking girl- take it.” He growled on a particularly sharp thrust that made you let out a choked sob. 

“You fucking owe me for all the times you gave me blue balls. I’m gonna fuck you every night now to make up for it.” He hissed, voice getting progressively breathier as the speed of his thrusts increased. “Gonna bury my cock balls deep and fill you up with my come fucking breed you, every single night.” He growled. His pace turned bruising and you could barely release any sounds because of the way your breath was being punched out of you with every thrust. 

“You deserve to be my little breeding bitch after all the months you made me fucking come on my hand instead of in this tight, little cunt.” He spat, placing a hand on your neck and squeezing. “What’ll your mommy say, huh? When you go to her asking for birth control. Or are you just gonna let me knock you up?” You let out a whimper, feeling your cheeks heat up at just the thought of the embarrassing conversation. 

“Maybe you will just have to let me knock you up. After all, it’s not like you can tell her you let her husband fuck you.” 

“Daddy,” You sobbed, too overwhelmed emotionally and physically. 

“From now on, you’re going to come in here every night. And I’m going to use your little cunt until I fuck my load into you. Do you understand?” He growled, making you whimper. “This is your own fucking fault so stop bitching about it. You’re the one who decided to be a fucking tease around me.” You let out a choked sob, knowing that he’s right. You didn’t tease him on purpose, but you still made him hurt everyday for months. 

His thrusts turned frenzied as he buried his face in the crook of your neck again. Only a few thrusts later and he was pushing all the way inside, the pressure on your cervix almost painful as he forced his cock in. He let out a low groan and you could feel him twitching against your walls as started to fill you. He stilled for a moment, breathing heavy, then leaned up to sit on his heels. 

He slowly pulled out, eyes never leaving your cunt, and cursed under his breath when his come started dripping out. Ignoring the blood on his dick, he swiped his fingers through the mess and pushed it back in your hole. As he watched some of it leak down to your ass, he made a mental note to buy some lube so he can fuck that soon too. 

“Did- did I help?” You whimpered, making his gaze move to you. He eyed your fucked out face, the way your cheeks were still wet with tears and your hair was tousled, and gave you a small smile. 

“You did, princess. Thank you. But this isn’t a permanent fix, okay? I meant what I said about you coming here every night.” Despite the softness of his voice, it was still stern, letting you know that this wasn’t a request, it was an order. You let out a quiet whimper at the thought of having to do this again, but as long as you were making him feel better, any pain you felt would be worth it. 

He grabbed your underwear to clean his cock, then pulled them back up your legs. You already made enough of a mess on his sheets, he didn’t need his come adding to it any more than it already did. When he laid back down and pulled you into him, you hissed in pain as you moved but eventually got comfortable enough to sleep. 

“Love you so much, princess. You did such a good job for me.” He placed a soft kiss on the top of your head, making you smile. 

“Love you too, Daddy.” You mumbled sleepily. 

[writingforatwistedworld]

Hii, I'm glad you're back . Even if it was for a few days you really left a place in tumblr not just for your work but for your presence itself.

I had a question for a while and I'm sorry if you answered it before and I seemed to not notice , if that's the case then forgive my ignorance but I was wondering , since sebek seems to respect his grandfather alot and has inherited the hate for humans from him and it's a known fact in self-aware au that the faes 'love' the overseer alot I must say.. does that mean that sebek also inherited his 'love' for the overseer from his granpa? If so how did green grandpa see the overseer, what made him 'love' them and how does he show it .

If you don't want to write this then feel free to ignore it , hope you have a great day and don't forget to drink water and eat well<33

Hi there Anon. It's so sweet of you to say that. I didn't think I would have made such an impression on anyone. But I completely forgot to write about Sebeks grandfather -_-

Well, better late than never.

Self-aware au

WARNINGS: Jp-version spoiler (like, the whole thing!!!), (Platonic!) yandere themes, war, religion, unhealthy mindset, isolation, unhealthy family dynamic

(Platonic!) Yandere headcanons

Ah yes, our local way too loud and loyal member of the reptilian family. No need to to worry about him. I mean, what could go wrong? (Hehe…)

Baul was not from the Valley of Thorns. Growing up in Sunset Savannah he did not grow up with the beliefs of the Faes (in other words, he was not part of a religious cult)

So imagine the huge shock he felt when he finally became a solider under the Draconia banner and started to become more and more like the other Faes

Well, for starters, yes, he wasn't indoctrinated into the whole church thing since birth but also wasn't raised to see you as an equal like the beastmen of the Savannah

You could say that he was a healthy mixture of both

Emphasis on the “was”

You see, isolation and being the only one sticking out (if we discount the humans invading the valley) does leave you open for a lot of things

If we count two (being the surroundings he was in) and two (his more or less unnoticed loneliness) together, we can see pretty fast where that led

Never mind his superior (and friend I mean come on they might as well be brothers) Lilia constantly rambling about the Overseer, savior of all, and how you accepted everyone in your kind embrace

Ok. Nice. Neat. Great. In the beginning, Baul wasn't very interested in joining any kind of religion

But the longer the war held on, the more he wished there was someone he could ask for help in his task of protecting those he deemed close to himself (you see the generational pattern?)

At some point, even the proudest of all can't hold on for forever

So he turned to you, the supposed God that was on so gentle

And goddamn that religious gaslighting and placebo effect worked damn well

Not only did he feel like there was someone there who supported him from somewhere in the universe (even though that was just him believing too much but let have him have some hope, ok?) but also he finally had a community

Whenever he would leave one of the many churches in the valley a Fae would approach, thanking him for protecting their home

Sooner than later did the former non-believer think of himself as your chosen shield of the valley

The war came and went away

If only the same thing could be said about Bauls new religious beliefs

And when he saw that grandson of his, cute little chubby hands that gripped a wooden toy sword tightly, he knew that his position as the valleys shield would not cease

Yes, even Baul would die one day. Fae or not, he was at the end of the day mortal

But that talent of his grandson would surely be of use to you, right?

If his younger self would see him like this, would it run away? Would it feel disgust at the thought that his future self would use his own grandson for selfish, religious reasons?

If only Baul knew that “God” didn't even know they were living beings that existed in a different world…

[rinhaler]

ur stepdad!gojo and uncle nanami fic got me feeling things so much so i felt the need to go into anon to confess bc im just so feral for this idea LMAO

ik ur not taking requests, and this isnt really a request but i just wanna leave this here as a lil tidbit or lil scenario bc ur fics had my mind running and i have nowhere to put it, and you can do with it as you wish, but here:

reader being a camgirl as a way to earn extra money to buy nice shit (should be paying for school but lmao) ofc, this doesnt go unnoticed by stepdaddy gojo and uncle nanami. They question where youre getting the money to buy all this cute shit, and ofc u make up an excuse, but they dont buy it.

gojo or nanami, could be either one, stumble upon your little…. “operation” one night, totally by accident while trying to get their rocks off.

they confront you about it, and perhaps they both tag team you at the same time while youre “working”, on camera for all to see. and you make SO MUCH MONEYfrom just that one night 👀

do with this as you will, just felt the need to drop this here hehe >:3

-simp anon 🐚🩷🍬

BABE I'M SORRY THIS TOOK ME SO LONG TO ANSWER BC I'M AN IDIOT AND TOTALLY DIDN'T PROCESS THE "THIS ISN'T A REQUEST PART" 😭😭😭

when i tell u when i first got this ask my jaw was on the FLOOR

I honestly don't know which idea I like better? The thought of them both accidentally coming across you doing a show and perving over it is so hot. Maybe Nanami finds it first and doesn't immediately tell your step daddy. He has to jerk off to it first?? He's a little taken aback by how confident you are considering how shy and seemingly innocent you are in person.

And I know Gojo is going to be teasing Nanami about being on a cam girl site.

"How did you find this, huh, Nanami?" completely winding him up with a smirk on his face that Nanami just has to ignore.

You aren't live when he shows your step daddy. He just shows him your profile. They both act clueless when you get home from college, saying your hellos and goodbyes as you go up to your room to study. (meanwhile you're actually just doing your makeup and picking what lingerie to wear to your stream).

They both hang out in the kitchen until your mother goes to bed, telling her they're just having a nightcap before her dear brother hits to road.

And then you're live, the audio playing quietly as you perform. Gojo is so surprised to see you like this but he just can't ignore the tent he feels forming in his pants.

They decide to interrupt your little show, and your viewers take note of how good your acting is! Plus the whole step-cest angle is really hot.

You make the most money you've ever made thanks to them double stuffing you and pumping you with so many loads you can barely see straight 💗

[flowerandblood]

The Loved One (2/2)

[ modern • Aemond x Alys!sister • female ]

[ warnings: sex content, oral sex, smut, angst, swearing, toxic behaviour and relations, manipulation, therapy ]

[ description: After the events of that night, Alys' sister tries to move on from what happened, proud that she didn't cause a tragedy. However, when it turns out that Alys' boyfriend has broken up with her the next day, her older sister becomes hysterical, and she wonders despairingly whether she was the reason of his decision. Lost, obsessive, distant, desperate Aemond. Anon request. ]

This is Part 2 of The Second One

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

My other works: Masterlist

_____

Even though weeks had passed since that bizarre night, she couldn't forget what had happened. It didn't help that the next day her older sister called their mother crying, saying that this shithead had dared to leave her, to walk away after all she had endured for him.

She stared with big eyes at the pancakes lying on the plate in front of her, feeling the cold sweat on her neck and the rapid pounding of her heart, listening to her mother's puzzled questions trying to calm her down, saying in a trembling voice that maybe it would be better this way, that after all they were still fighting.

Alys seemed to have forgotten everything that happened between them and what he had said to her the day before – she felt tears under her eyelids hearing her sobbing, her helpless confession that she loved him and didn't want to live without him.

She felt his hand between her thighs, his tongue deep inside her throat.

She was ashamed that she had barely held back, that she had refused him with difficulty, that some part of her wanted him to stay.

To fuck her.

She swallowed loudly, feeling herself shudder at the memory of the piece of paper he had slipped under her door and what was written on it.

I wish I had met you before her.

She felt a kind of discomfort at the thought of being possessed by some kind of terror and satisfaction, because she was bonded with him by a secret that no one knew about but them.

A moment later, however, she recalled how awful things he had said about Alys, how objectively he had treated her, and that he would have done exactly the same with her if she had not regained her sobriety of mind in time.

She has big tits and a big ass.

She sucks cock well.

She shook her head, feeling that it made her sick to her stomach at the thought, and got up from the table, unable and unwilling to listen to it, recognising that her sister was right.

They were made for each other.

To her despair, Alys came to their house again later that day. She paid no attention to her, directing her despair and pain towards their mother, telling her that he wasn't taking her calls, that he had blocked her number, that he had simply texted her briefly and that was it.

"How could he do this, after so many years. We've been through so much together and he breaks up with me over a fucking text message? Like a fucking kid, no conversation, no explanation?" She heard her mumbling coming from the living room and their mother's voice trying to reassure her – she stood in the dark hallway of their house, eavesdropping involuntarily, thinking with some kind of amusement that it was obvious he had ended it that way.

She shuddered when she heard her name and the fact that her sister had stood up: she ran quickly upstairs, fearing that the subject of their argument and what she had accused him of would now cause her to lash out at her.

True to her intuition, Alys knocked on the door to her room after a while – her mother tried to calm her down but she interrupted her saying that she just wanted to talk, that it was possible she knew of something more.

They stepped inside: her older sister grunted as she tried to quiet herself down, wiping her smudged make-up with her fingers, her face red from tears.

"I'm sorry for his inappropriate behaviour yesterday. He kept staring at you, too sure to get me off balance. Did he bother you after I left?" She asked, putting her hands in front of her, as if this question was a formality for her.

Something in the way she said it, in her conviction that it all revolved around her, that she was asking it not because she was worried about her but because she wanted to prove something to herself made any sympathy and remorse she had felt a moment before disappear.

She told me about you. What an ugly duckling you are. That you don’t know how to dress well, don’t know how to accentuate your figure and your assets. That you hide yourself in big sweatshirts and sit with your nose in books instead of really living and that there’s nothing to talk to you about because you can’t converse about anything interesting.

She recognised that she had acted appropriately – she had cut whatever was going on in time and told him to leave, so she didn't feel the need to admit anything.

"He wanted to talk to me about Gombrowicz, presumably so that I would repeat it to you later and to arouse your jealousy. I told him to leave and that's what he did." She replied softly so that her words were not a complete lie – her sister pressed her lips together, clearly displeased by her statement, her nostrils quivering in uncertainty and rage.

She had no such intention.

"Is that all? He didn't want anything else?" She asked coolly.

She raised her eyebrows and laughed dryly, recognising that for some reason all this amused her – the thought that her little sister about whom she had said such things might have taken away something that belonged to her.

Take him, she thought.

You're both sick.

"Me? Please. I told him clearly not to involve me in your affairs and use me against you." She said indifferently. She noticed out of the corner of her eye that her sister had turned purple – she swallowed loudly as if she was afraid of what she was about to hear.

"What did he say to you?" She asked in a trembling voice forcing herself to be calm, from which she felt a thrill of satisfaction.

"A lot of things. For example, what you say about me. What a caring, good sister you are. How much you worry about me, with what tenderness you think of me." She replied while playing with the pencil lying on her desk, not even looking at her, feeling the awkward silence that had fallen around them.

"I…after all, you know that I would never say anything in bad faith. I get upset with you sometimes, like any sister, I don't understand you, it's true, but I love you, you know that. God, that fucking liar and manipulator!" She growled helplessly, fiddling with her necklace between her fingers in a nervous gesture, looking pleadingly at their mother as if hoping for her support in the matter.

"If he's a liar and a manipulator, why do you want to be with him?" She asked tiredly and impatiently, no longer feeling anything but grief and disapproval.

"That's how we are, both of us…like fire, we argue and come back, it's always been that way." She muttered, and she swallowed hard, thinking with relief that the fact that she had refused him was the wisest decision of her life.

"Do what you want, don't get me involved. Leave." She said dryly, taking a book from her shelf, Trans-Atlantyk by Witold Gombrowicz.

Alys left her room, clearly furious that the conversation hadn't gone according to her plan, that she couldn't go on playing the victim, the one innocent and perpetually abused.

She thought she wanted nothing to do with them.

A few weeks passed and she slowly began to forget about the situation even though Alys couldn't get over it – she knew she was now on some sleeping pills, immersed in utter despair.

She figured that sooner or later she would find someone else – she just prayed that he wouldn't change his mind and come back to her, because she didn't know how she would bear the sight of him in her house.

However, something happened that she had not expected at all.

One evening she received a message from an unknown number.

She opened it and frowned after she read its contents.

Block it and delete it? Threaten him with telling Alys and her mother everything?

She felt her heart start pounding like crazy, a cold sweat on the back of her neck – she covered her mouth with her hand, terrified, wondering where he had got her number, what was she supposed to do now.

She was afraid of what he was capable of, that he might start talking about the fact that she had let him stay with her after all, that something more than a kiss had happened.

She swallowed loudly as she looked at her screen and slowly typed out a reply on her phone's keypad.

She shuddered when, a moment later, her display lit up again and she opened the message from him with her heart beating fast.

She sent it, clenching her eyes, thinking with despair that her answer was too aggressive, that it would surely enrage him, that she would regret all that had happened, her stupid moment of weakness.

She looked at what he'd written without knowing for herself what she felt, her throat squeezed so tightly that she had trouble breathing. She jumped when the messages began to appear one after another.

She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself, angry at herself for letting him do this to her, telling her what she wanted to hear, putting himself in the role of a disappointed and disillusioned man who needed comforting.

She read everything he wrote with an expression of disbelief, completely shocked by this sudden externalisation. She felt her heart squeeze, her body trembling in horror at the fact that he was trying to play with her again, unwittingly giving her what she wanted.

He knew she longed to be appreciated, to be important to someone, to be the only one, to do something her sister had failed to do.

To fix him.

He was giving her himself on a plate, distraught, seeking comfort and refuge, an opportunity for her to prove herself, to show to herself that she was better, more tender, smarter than her sister.

She felt tears of helplessness and humiliation gathering at the corners of her eyes, and swallowed loudly, typing out a message on her phone.

She sent the message and breathed out loud, covering her face with her hands, wondering in pain why he was doing this to her, why he was being so cruel.

Did he want to prove something to himself, to stab her sister in the back with her help?

She shuddered when she heard her phone vibrate and unlocked it quickly, her lips dry with stress.

She didn't know why she burst into sobs after reading his message, why she felt so sad, embittered and humiliated.

I wish I had met you before her.

Why was he doing this to her?

Why was he messing with her head?

For some reason, because of everything she had read, she felt even worse, the pain that ripped through her heart seemed unbearable.

Some part of her wanted to believe him.

She had trouble sleeping, going back to what he had written again and again, once wanting to block him, then immediately deciding that there was no need, that he had clearly given her peace.

She knew she should forget about him, but she couldn't.

Therefore, she tried to concentrate on her studies. Her classes filling her entire days – she even took extra lessons, wanting to be away from home in the evenings as well.

Walking through the large, neo-Gothic hall, she came across a poster hanging on the notice board, announcing open lectures taking place every week on Thursday at 7pm, on the works of Orwell, Kafka, Dostoyevsky and Gombrowicz, entitled 'The Fall of the World'.

She thought the whole thing sounded extremely tempting, and as she loved all these writers, she decided to attend at least once.

The lecture was held in a library that anyone could enter to make things easier for outside listeners – when she went inside most of the seats at the tables were already taken.

She stopped in mid-step, wanting to back away, but it was too late; the tall, well-built figure of a blond-haired man sitting in one of the chairs turned towards her involuntarily, his gaze expressing shock.

"Miss Rivers, welcome! Please, take a seat." Professor Moore, the same one who had lectured to her year on twentieth-century world literature, spoke to her.

She nodded, horrified that it would be at least odd if she left now, so she sat down in one of the empty seats trying not to look at the sinister, inscrutable man sitting a few seats away.

She felt ashamed that some part of her was glad to see him, as if she hoped to meet him again.

"Orwell's Nineteen Eighty-Four is an extremely heavy read, filled with metaphors, and yet, the author foretold something in it, perfectly describing what communism led to, the fear of surveillance and propaganda, the feeling that everyone is an informer, that no one can be trusted, can be observed in a large part of contemporary Russian citizens. Cut off from non-state information sources, from certain parts of the internet, they live in the conviction that their country cares about them, that the security services are following them and spying on them for their own good. Some even firmly believe that this is for the best. Don't you think it's frightening that something Orwell predicted actually happened, on top of it earlier than he thought?" Asked her professor – she raised her hand, recognising that if she allowed herself to be drawn into the discussion, she would stop thinking about the man who sat a few chairs away.

He let her speak with a nod.

"Orwell wrote this book in 1945, already knowing what Nazism and Communism were. He did not understand how Western Europe could have agreed to recognise Stalin as one of the victors and lead, as a result, to the so-called Iron Curtain in later years. This book was his warning, his sense that we had crossed some line of dehumanisation after Auschwitz that had never happened before in the world." She said on one exhale, a second person, an older man also raised his hand.

"He may have known, but he also felt under his skin that it would not end with communism and Nazism. And he was right. The place of these groupings is being taken by others, just as threatening, also talking about the rights of the nation or the equality of all. We forget that Hitler and Lenin also originally floated on fine words." Said the man, several people nodded their heads in agreement. She shuddered when she heard another voice, familiar to her, speak up without permission, impatient.

"Orwell was not an idiot. If he had wanted to deal with the problem of the rise of political sects, he would have started with that, but he places the plot in the course of events when the state is completely subordinated to the apparatus of power. We hope for a happy ending, a complete victory, but Orwell recognises that there was no such thing after the Second World War. Nuremberg held Germany to account, but not Russia or Japan. Nowadays we don't even talk about their crimes – we delight in their culture and history forgetting whose side they were on, often committing far worse crimes than Hitler."

He glanced at her, as if to see how she would react to his words, to his voice, and momentarily dropped his gaze, as if embarrassed, caught off guard.

He said coldly.

She was surprised by how accurate this observation was.

She looked at him involuntarily – he was sitting with his profile to her, his jaw clenched, the fingers of his hand stretched out on the tabletop moving restlessly, playing with the pen that lay before him.

"Each of these three comments is exceptionally apt. The anxiety that Orwell arouses accompanies us in our daily lives right up to the present day, and somehow he has managed to create a vision of a universal totalitarian system that suits every one that has been mentioned. Let us now turn to the specific chapters…"

They passed the rest of the lecture discussing whether there really was any resistance movement at all, or whether it was just a contrived idea used to catch would-be rebels and break their will even before they could really stand up to anyone.

Somehow the conversation about the book had put her in a depressed, gloomy state; when the professor thanked them and said they were seeing each other next week she wasn't sure she'd come a second time.

Even more so if she was to see him during them.

They were open lectures and he had a right to be there, but she was already tired.

She heard his footsteps behind her and knew it was him when she felt his large hand grab her gently by her arm.

"Wait. I'm sorry. I really didn't know you were coming −"

"− I know. You have nothing to apologise for." She said softly, wanting to pull away from him, but he didn't let her go – even though she wasn't looking at him she could feel his burning gaze, his heat, his raspy breath on her cheek.

"− I don't know yet −" She replied in a shaky, tired voice, feeling that her heart was pounding like crazy. For some reason she felt tears burning under her eyelids – at the same time she wanted him to give her peace and not to do it, something in his darkness, in his unpredictability attracted her.

"− promise you'll come next week − that you won't give up because of me −" He said in a low voice.

She felt embarrassment and a squeeze in her throat at the thought that she wasn't sure if he meant that he didn't want her to give up her interests because of him, or that he was hoping to see her again.

She thought with despair that perhaps it was the same thing that kept Alys from forgetting him.

He grunted and let her go, clearly sensing that he had held her for too long, an awkward silence full of tension fell between them.

"I'm not going to lie. I was hoping to see you here." He murmured lowly, lowering his gaze, slipping his hands into the pockets of his trousers, the black turtleneck he wore perfectly framing his well-built, broad chest.

She pressed her lips together at his words, adjusting the straps of her backpack hanging over her shoulders in an involuntary, nervous gesture, unsure what she was supposed to respond to such a confession, feeling heat in her lower abdomen at the thought that for some reason he didn't want to forget her.

"Why are you doing this? What else do you want from me?" She asked embittered, looking up at him at last – he lifted his gaze to her, fear, desperation and shame in his eyes.

He swallowed loudly, as if he didn't know what he should answer, looking at her in silence.

"I missed you." He muttered quietly, embarrassed like a small child. She shook her head, her eyebrows arched in pain and disbelief.

"What?"

"I missed you. The way I felt back then."

"For God's sake, we only spoke once, what do you miss? The adrenaline that was bubbling inside you at the thought that maybe I'd be naive enough to let you fuck me? I let you into my room, into my life only for you to humiliate me. You are a cruel man."

She mumbled out while bursting into a loud, uncontrollable sob, covering her face with her hand. She heard in disbelief that his reaction to her words was identical – he embraced her and pulled her close, hugging her to his chest and although she wanted to push him away, she couldn't.

"− I didn't mean to hurt you − I swear, I really just wanted to talk, I couldn't sleep, I was angry − what happened next −" He mumbled out, his voice stuck in his throat – he drew in a sudden, shaky breath of air, swallowing loudly.

"− I just − I don't know, I have no idea what came over me, I never cheated on her, I swear − I swear −" He babbled, both of them crying loudly, her hands rose higher and tightened on his back – she felt both pain and relief at the thought that he was as embarrassed and heartbroken as she was.

"− can we start again? − as if we had never met? −" He asked pleadingly and she, not knowing why, nodded, thinking she wanted to leave it all far, far behind.

Although they both calmed down after a moment, they still lingered in each other's embrace – a pleasant shiver ran down her spine as she felt his large hand stroke her hair and back with a calm gesture full of care, her face snuggled into his warm chest, her nostrils filled with his masculine scent.

She shuddered and swallowed loudly as his lips placed a drawn-out, hot kiss on the top of her head, her breath caught in her throat when she felt something pulsate hard in his trousers.

They pulled away from each other, wiping their faces, both pretending nothing had happened – he breathed out loud, combing his hair in a light, careless gesture, his cheeks red with emotion.

"− see you −" He muttered, and although she knew she shouldn't, she showed up for the next lecture.

And then the next and the next.

Each time he sat down next to her, close, too close, his legs splayed comfortably making his knee pressed against hers, but she didn't move away, herself getting something out of the situation that she couldn't name.

Her sister had told her mother on the phone that she had moved on, that she wasn't going to trouble herself with this bastard, told her about their endless arguments, about how he would raise his voice and throw things, leave in the middle of a conversation slamming the door, about how he always acted like a spoilt little child when he didn't get what he wanted.

She knew that she was leaving out of these arguments what she herself had said and done in an obvious attempt to create a narrative of his one-sided aggression, however, despite being malicious and ironic, she was struck by how completely different his view of the whole thing was.

Sometimes the two of them would buy warm tea from the vending machine and spend spring evenings in the university park sitting on the grass on his leather jacket, just talking – since they had both cried and cuddled he had not tried to touch her or otherwise invade her personal space.

"My family has always been involved in the modeling industry. Big money, big banquets, fashion shows in Paris and Venice. I always despised it, but what could be done? My father expected me and my siblings to take over his inheritance, on top of which his daughter from his first marriage was fighting for a bigger share than she was originally entitled to. It was some kind of nightmare." He muttered, taking a sip of the hot liquid from a small cardboard cup, looking somewhere ahead with a blank stare, the sun was setting behind the beautiful neo-Gothic red brick buildings.

"To be honest, it never interested me. I was into art, but not this half-world. When I met your sister I liked the fact that she was going after what she wanted. Of course, she wasn't the first chick to want to go to bed with me for the obvious benefits, but her impudence was downright endearing in a way. Only later did I realise that it was impudence mixed with calculating. But we were both too proud to let go, to be the weak link."

He sighed and shrugged his shoulders, finally looking at her with the same tired, resigned eyes she had seen for weeks – she couldn't tell if what he was saying and showing her was the truth or just his game.

But who would want to pretend for so long?

He lowered his gaze, scratching his cheek with his thumb, seeing in her eyes that she remained wary of him, that she did not trust him.

She herself didn't know why she had allowed him to spend time together, only to find with sadness that some part of her wanted to understand him.

"I'm afraid you won't be able to undo what's happened inside your head without the help of a professional." She said softly, looking down at the cup she held between her hands on her thighs. She heard him swallow hard – she knew this topic was not comfortable for him.

"If you really do it, I'll go with you." She said quietly, feeling a sense of discomfort, knowing she shouldn't do it, on the other hand realising that her mother had made sure Alys visited the psychiatrist at least a few times, and he needed it just as badly.

"Will you come with me? If I make an appointment." He muttered in a low, hoarse voice. She looked at him in disbelief, feeling a tightness in her throat, once again surprised by his behaviour and his words.

She did not believe that he would do so, recognising that this was part of his plan to soften her up.

Nevertheless, after a few days she received a message from him with the address of the doctor's office and the time of the appointment.

She turned up at the place indicated, lying to her mother that she had gone to the University Library – the office of the man he had mentioned was in fact in the suburbs, and next to the door to the building was a nameplate with his profession.

A few minutes before the time he pulled up in a big, shiny black SUV, dressed in a black tight T-shirt tucked into black trousers, a watch on his wrist – when he got out he looked stressed and unhappy, she knew he really didn't want to do that.

He lit a quick cigarette even though he only had a few minutes left before his visit and she thought he would cowardly tell her that he didn't feel like it after all, that he didn't have to do it, that he was already feeling better.

"Is it really necessary? Externalising myself to some fucking asshole for my money?" He asked coldly, taking a drag on his cigarette with a quiet hiss. She looked at him feeling a squeeze in her chest, tears of regret under her eyelids at the thought that she had spent so much of her time and effort on him only to realise that he was exactly as she had imagined him to be.

"− I'm sorry − thank you, little one − if it wasn't for you I wouldn't have come here at all −" He muttered low, taking a quick drag a few times, extinguishing the remnants of his cigarette on a bin standing nearby, letting the smoke out loudly through his nose.

Seeing the look on her face he swallowed loudly and lowered his gaze to his feet, wiping his forehead with the back of the hand in which he held the cigarette in a nervous gesture.

She had the impression that his body was quivering.

He startled her when he stepped inside, so she moved behind him, both of them heading up the steps past the signs straight into the cabinet. She watched as he sighed heavily and knocked, a middle-aged man who could have been their father opened the door for him after a moment.

"This is my friend I mentioned. I want her to be there when we talk." He said lowly, and she froze, looking at his back in disbelief as he stepped inside, convinced that he just wanted her to wait for him outside.

She lowered her gaze, horrified at the thought that he would be telling him his problems, his most intimate secrets in front of her, but she wasn't sure she could refuse when he had already taken such a big step forward.

The doctor smiled at her and, with a gesture of his hand, encouraged her to go inside, so she did, taking a seat on the other side of the sofa, the doctor sat opposite them.

"Please tell me what brings you to me."

He began – she stared at a flower in a pot standing at the other end of the office, feeling like an intruder, as if she was eavesdropping on someone's conversation and had no idea what she should do with herself.

"I tend to be verbally aggressive. I tend to get involved in toxic relationships with other toxic people and I'm like that myself."

She heard his low voice and swallowed loudly, somehow appreciating his self-criticism, the fact that he saw the problem holistically.

"Let's start with the first sentence. What do you think verbal aggression means?"

"I know what to say to hurt someone. I know it, I do it on purpose and I get satisfaction from it."

"Please say something more about this feeling of satisfaction."

He remained silent for a moment – she heard him shrug his shoulders, impatient.

"The feeling of power."

"What do you feel after that, when the satisfaction passes?"

"Emptiness."

She looked at him uncertainly, fiddling nervously with the fabric of the dress covering her thighs, feeling that her whole body was tense, a cold sweat on her back.

"A lot of people get addicted to adrenaline. Also from arguments, aggression or violent sex. The lack of affection and security is filled with temporary emotions, and their absence causes similar symptoms to alcohol rehab. When you regain control you see yourself and the world as it is."

He remained silent.

Said the doctor. She saw him just nod at his words, swallowing hard, looking at his hands, seeing with horror that he was picking at the cuticles around his nails creating tiny wounds.

"You mentioned that you consider yourself a toxic person and get into a relationship with such people."

"Yes."

"Why do you judge yourself that way?"

The man asked, and he licked his lips in a quick impatient gesture.

"Because I am cruel to other people. Harsh and vicious."

"Please elaborate on that thought."

For the next half hour he talked about examples of his behaviour, how he despised models making a career out of bed, how deep down he loathed her sister and himself, the business he was forced to be stuck in, full of injustice and discrimination.

She listened to it feeling resentful towards him for deceiving her sister for so long, on the other hand hearing for the first time how Alys addressed him, what the beginning of their relationship was like.

"When I gave her what she wanted she was the sweetest, most submissive woman I knew. But if I didn't, she would turn into a screaming, spiteful creature telling me I was a cunt and a little child, so I didn't leave her hanging. What did she expect, that she would call me that and I wouldn't answer anything? That I didn't know she had nothing more to offer me than her body? What pissed me off about her wasn't that she lacked knowledge, it was that there was no curiosity about the world in her, that she didn't want to expand it, to understand more. Just fucking, partying and posing."

"But you still lasted in that relationship because, from what I understand, you were so comfortable. What changed?" The doctor asked, and she flinched as he glanced at her quickly, immediately looking away, swallowing loudly, terrified of what was about to leave his mouth.

"I think that I'm in love with someone."

She drew in air loudly, feeling tears under her eyelids, her whole body breathless – she felt the heat in her lower abdomen, that embarrassing, sticky wetness between her thighs.

She knew she shouldn't, but when he suggested after the visit that she go to his place, she agreed.

There was a kind of despair in the way he pressed her against the wall with a sudden motion as soon as the door closed behind them, the way his slick tongue forced its way between her swollen lips with his groan of relief, the way, with quick and sure movements, his hands slid the material of her underwear off her, which she threw off her legs with an impatient flick.

She knew she shouldn't, but she felt nothing but delight as he knelt in front of her looking at her with wide eyes. He lifted the material of her dress over her thighs, throwing her hip over his shoulder – she tilted her head back with a soft moan as his lips began to brush and kiss her hot, silky, weeping folds.

"− we can't −" She muttered, but she knew she'd only said it to feel a little less regret that it was so pleasurable, that her fingers clenched on his short hair as he cupped her little clit between his lips and began sucking on it, teasing her pulsing opening with the tip of his tongue again and again.

"− fuck − fuck −" She whimpered girlishly, rolling her hips involuntarily in rhythm with his strokes – a loud murmur of delight erupted from his throat at how much she was leaking, the sound of it running in vibration through her entire body.

"− I could spend all day like this − would you like it? −" He gasped between teasing motions of his tongue pushing its way between her sticky muscles, hot with arousal, a moan bordering on a cry broke from her throat as he began to tease the spongy spot hidden inside her from which his whole corridor seemed blurred to her.

"− stop −" She mumbled helplessly, panting loudly along with him, feeling his words deep inside her – her walls began to clench around nothing. He only grunted at her plea, stopping abruptly, rising from his knees: she settled again on both feet, feeling that her legs were trembling all over.

"− you can leave now, if you want − I won't stop you −" He breathed out, with a quick, sure movement of his fingers undoing the buckle from the belt of his trousers – she looked at him with her eyes wide open, feeling in her mind only that wonderful heat between her thighs.

"− be gentle − be gentle and don't mock me −" She muttered, and he grabbed her by her hair and pulled her close, their lips pressed together in an aggressive, sticky, loud kiss.

She squealed quietly as he lifted her easily, in an involuntary reflex she threw her arms around his neck, enclosing his waist between her legs, his moist mouth smelling of her wetness not pulling away for a moment as his one hand dealt with the material of his trousers and boxers.

The tips of his fingers ran over her cheek, his forehead pressed against hers as she felt the fat head of his cock push in between her weeping folds – they both moaned low, surprised, as his fingers dug into the soft skin of her thigh, forcing her to fit his long, thick erection deeper inside her.

"− fuck −" She whimpered, spreading her thighs wider – he looked down at her with eyes black with desire, his lips parted in a pathetic groan as her leaking walls let him all the way in.

"− god, little one − oh fuck −" He mumbled out with involuntary stabs of his hips thrusting into her as deeply as possible – they both moaned into each other's mouths as his lips pressed against hers again, her hands ran over his hair and down the nape of his neck, answered by his loud murmur of pleasure.

"− I've waited so long for this − you were already wet for me then, weren't you? − you wanted it inside you −" He breathed out, speeding up his pace, each push of his swollen cock teasing again and again the same spot he had squeezed with his tongue earlier, only a helpless moan of pleasure escaping from her chest, their bodies slapping against each other with a loud clicks of her moisture.

"− please − please, please, please −" She babbled between licks of their tongues and lips, his large hands clamped down on her ass, accelerating, the stabs of his hips opening her wide on his length again and again, her walls pulsing against him, sucking him inside.

"− oh, yes, that's it − gonna cum, baby? − gonna cum for me? −" He cooed slammed into her with his cock pulsing with lust. She nodded her head clenching her fingers in his hair, panting hard, and leaned back with a sweet moan as her body shook with convulsions, her walls began to throb and clench against him in pleasure.

"− god, yes − little one − where −" He muttered, and she only managed to whimper for him to come inside her, thanking God for the existence of the pills. She heard his low groan of relief and pleasure, a few messy, greedy thrusts of his hips were enough to make him spill inside her, their bodies twitching and quivering, shocked at how intense this close-up was.

For a long moment they both merely panted and kissed lazily, his hands running over the bare, hot skin of her buttocks, her fingers stroking his hair with his quiet murmur of pleasure.

"− so good − so kind − so pretty −" He hummed between their kisses, stroking the soft skin of her cheek with his thumb, shame overwhelmed her at the thought that she felt butterflies in her stomach at his words.

She knew she shouldn't do this, but she let him take her once more on his bed, his thighs slapping against her buttocks again and again with each desperate thrust of his hips, their naked bodies entwined together in a tight embrace, sweaty and hot.

"− fuck − fuck −" He panted into her mouth between greedy, messy, loud kisses, his wonderful scent filling her entire lungs, her naked breasts pressed against his chest, her fingers digging into the bare skin of his back.

"− mghm − m close −" She mumbled out, her walls oversensitive after her earlier fulfilment, the tip of his swollen cock rubbing again and again the spot inside her from which she felt shivers and tickling, the heat in her lower abdomen unbearable.

"− come on, little one − give me one more − that's it, fuck! −" He gasped loudly and bit his lower lip, trying to stifle the low groan of pleasure that ripped from his throat as her fleshy muscles began to throb in orgasm, sucking him inside.

She tried to push him away, delicate and sore, quivering and writhing beneath him, but he accelerated, slamming into her for a moment more with sure, deep thrusts.

"− I know, baby, just a moment longer − shhh −" He mumbled out before he reached his peak inside her for the second time, a soft, loud sigh of relief and delight escaping his lips.

He collapsed on top of her, burying his face in her hair, panting heavily along with her, their skin sticky from sweat and exertion, their hands trailing blindly over their naked bodies, wanting to remember and take everything possible from this moment.

"− stay with me, little one − please, stay with me −" He whispered softly, his voice trembling with emotion, with the feeling that she was going to try again to escape him, what he wanted and what it all meant.

She swallowed quietly and combed her fingers through his hair, looking up at the ceiling with slightly parted lips, breathing loudly, her body at once relaxed from another fulfilment and tense, filled with uncertainty and fear.

He could feel her hesitation – when he heard no response from her he lifted himself slowly on his arms, wanting to look at her face.

"− do you know what the real tragedy of this situation is? − that some part of me reciprocates your feelings − but I don't know how I could ever really trust you −" She whispered in a calm, low tone, feeling a lone tear of regret flow from the corner of her eye onto the pillow under her head smelling of his perfume, the adrenaline and endorphin stopped bubbling through her body, leaving only an emptiness inside her.

"− what I told that doctor is true − I want to change − want to be a person worth loving − I know I screwed up then −" He whispered, stroking her cheek with his large hand – she looked away, feeling her own body tremble, his thumb ran over her soft skin.

She felt him looking at her, completely unsure of what to say, his soft manhood still deep inside her.

He slipped out of her gently after a moment, standing up without a word, grabbing his trousers which were lying on the floor, standing with his back to her, putting them on, not even giving her a single glance.

She stood up too, clenching her lips so tightly that she felt like they were purple, her throat twitching all over in a sob that she didn't let escape, but she couldn't hold back the tears of horror, shame and disappointment that flooded her face.

She didn't look at him when she left, when she ran down the stairs and simply left the building, moving in front of her, trying to think soberly where she was and what bus stop she should go to in order to get home.

She heard a vibration in her backpack after a while, her phone ringing and ringing, but she didn't even take it out, not knowing what else they were going to say to each other.

It was obvious that he had never respected or taken her sister seriously, and while it was obvious that she wanted him, she couldn't believe that the depth of his feelings were actually that great.

She felt that he had talked himself into this feeling, mythologised it and also her character, creating in his mind a tragic story of two lovers who had always been destined for each other, to further distance himself in his mind and mock her sister's personality.

She arrived home pale but refrained from crying in front of her parents – she explained that she felt sick and would go to bed early.

However, not half an hour passed and she heard the screech of tyres on her driveway – she got up to the window and took a few steps backwards, startled to recognise his car, her throat squeezed so tight with fear that she felt like she was going to vomit.

She ran quickly downstairs hearing raised voices, his, her father's and her mother's, her mother clearly outraged at the sight of him and his insolence.

Will he tell them everything?

Will he humiliate her in front of her parents, entertain himself at her expense now?

Will he take revenge?

"How dare you show up here after all this? Have you no shame?"

"Did your younger daughter get home safely?"

"It is none of your business, young man, you are to leave our house immediately!"

Said her mother, enraged and heartbroken, her father threatened to call the police on him, but he lifted his gaze hearing her footsteps and spotted her on the half-floor standing on the stairs.

Something changed in his gaze – she saw that he swallowed hard, in his eyes pain, fatigue, regret and something else from which she ran out of breath.

"Thank you. I've already found out what I wanted." He said lowly, turning and simply walking away, closing the door behind him – her parents looked at her in disbelief, they heard the sound of the engine firing up.

"What did he mean? Why was he asking about you?" Asked her father, and she looked at them with her eyes wide open not knowing what to say.

Did he come just to check that she got home safely?

"After all, this man is unpredictable, look what he did to Alys. He's made her dependent on him, like a parasite he's put the idea in her mind that she won't be able to live without him."

"He goes to therapy. He asked me to go with him. He didn't want to be there alone." She told only part of the truth with shame, having no strength to pretend any longer. Her mother froze, looking quickly at her father and then back at her, her eyebrows arched in disbelief.

"And she did the same thing to him."

"What?"

"Alys was doing the same thing to him. He was showing me messages from her, mum. Sent from her number. That's why I went with him." She mumbled out and burst into sobs again, covering her face with her hand, her pain and regret finding an escape at last.

Her mother seeing her condition moved towards her and hugged her, in her embrace some kind of understanding – her father looked up at her from below with his hands placed on his hips and sighed heavily, shaking his head.

"Alys can't know."

For the next few days neither he nor she made contact. Some part of her was grateful to him for not pressuring her, for letting her put it all together in her head.

She herself did not know what she felt.

On the one hand, caution prevailed in her in his presence – she had the feeling that she was still waiting for some blow from him, an unexpected hit that would break her and prove to herself that he had been playing with her all this time for his own entertainment.

But then she remembered their conversation in the university courtyard, what he had said at the psychiatrist's.

I think that I'm in love with someone.

She read their long exchanges about poets, writers, but also about their thoughts and their lives, trying to find any trace of a lie or manipulation in them, but was pained to find that, although it may have been due to a lack of distance, she did not find it.

She no longer knew what was truth and what was a lie.

The last extra classes of the semester were open lectures she was attending with him – she knew they would be discussing Trans-Atlantyk and she thought maybe that was a sign.

She reasoned that if he didn't turn up it would mean that he had given up, that he had been disappointed with her and got bored and that she could move on at last.

She had arrived earlier than usual, wanting to borrow some books from the library for the holidays. Standing at one of the bookcases she spotted him from a distance sitting alone at a table, bent over a thick volume – even though it was still half an hour to class he was sitting in the same seat as always.

She felt the heat fill her body, her heart began to pound like crazy due to some incomprehensible joy at the sight of him.

She moved towards him with several tomes in her hands and sat down next to him – they did not greet each other, however, she felt his gaze on her, his warm breath on her skin.

She turned her face towards him and noticed that his healthy eye was all red, his lower lip trembling, as if he didn't believe she would come, that he would ever see her again.

Something in that sight, in the tear that ran down his cheek made her lay her head on his shoulder, snuggling her nose into his neck – she heard him draw in air greedily, his hand rose quickly and touched her cheek, his fingers twitching, stroking her soft skin with a gentle, tender motion.

She put her hands around his arm and stayed like that, feeling strangely calm and safe – she felt him place his cheek on the top of her head, she could hear his broken, heavy breath, his lips placing a tender kiss on her hair once in a while.

She turned her face towards him, heard only his quiet, low sigh as their fleshy lips found each other in a sticky, hot, wet kisses, his large hand holding her face in place, not allowing her to move away.

She pulled away from him at last, stroking his well-defined jaw with her thumb, his gaze dark and hot, his lips swollen and red from their caress.

She returned to her earlier position without a word, sinking her face into the hollow of his neck, embracing his arm with her hands – he breathed quietly, sliding it out of her grasp, enveloping her waist with it, pulling her close so that she could hug his chest.

The tips of his fingers traveled down her back as he took the book that lay in front of him from the table top and placed it on his thighs, clearly wanting to simultaneously read on and cover up whatever was going on in his trousers.

They stayed like this until the class began when they finally pulled away from each other – his hand quickly found hers under the table, stroking the top of it with his thumb.

Though doubts still filled her heart, for the first time in years she felt hope.

_____

Aemond Taglist:

(bold means I couldn't tag you)

@notnormalthings-blog @nikstrange @zenka69 @bellaisasleep @k-y-r-a-1 @g-cf2020 @melsunshine @opheliaas-stuff @chainsawsangel @iiamthehybrid @tinykryptonitewerewolf @namoreno @malfoytargaryen @qyburnsghost @aemondsdelight @persephonerinyes @fan-goddess @sweethoneyblossom1 @watercolorskyy @randomdragonfires @apollonshootafar @padfooteyes @darylandbethfanforever9 @fudge13 @snh96 @rwdkarla

[goldeunoias]

Men with a non-sexual dominance... Heeseung .

Please and thank you, it is a necessity at this point.

ilysm daisy. 💖

ily you too~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Come on kitten, let me brush your teeth for you," Heeseung cooed gently, holding your face delicately in his hands as he grabbed your brush. You giggled and let him do, opening your mouth some so he could brush around your gum lines.

"Did pretty baby have a good day at work?" he inquired softly, letting you spit in the sink and pouring you a cup of mouthwash. You nodded and swished it around in your mouth, Heeseung fixing the straps on your nightgown that he'd also bought for you.

"I may get promoted by the end of the cycle," you beamed at him, Heeseung humming and turning you around so he could adjust the straps on your nightgown properly. His warm hands made your skin rise to the same temperature, fidgeting slightly as you felt your nipples poke against the silk.

Heeseung was quick to notice your change in demeanor, patting the counter as a gesture for you to sit up on it. You did so quickly, Heeseung kneeling down on his knees and grabbing your ankle.

"Princess's feet must be sore from working all day," he said sweetling, massaging your feet while his lips started kissing your ankles.

"I-I'm sorry I didn't shave my legs....or the other region," you apologized, Heeseung shaking his head profusely as he kissed up your legs. His lips felt soft against your freshly washed skin and you resisted some when he tried to part your legs, Heeseung giving you a warning glare to not disobey him.

"Let's check to see if princess is wearing any underwear yeah?" He cooed, spreading your legs and groaning to himself when he saw your barren core.

"That's my good girl, following directions so well you have arousal droplets clinging to your hair," Heeseung teased, pulling you closer and raising your legs higher to get a better view.

"Keep your dress raised for me yeah? We wouldn't want your princess parts to soil your nightgown now would we?" He teased, licking his lips when you shook your head and raised it up as instructed.

He made a tsking noise and you yelped when Heeseung lightly drug his finger down your sticky folds, holding the digit in front of your face.

"My princess got her princess parts all dirty now didn't she?"

You nodded and apologized, biting down on your lips in nervousness. Heeseung noticed and reached up to remove your bottom lip from your top, holding it in place. He reached over, unable to hide his grin as he spoke against the shell of your ear.

"Do you want me to clean it for you kitten? Make it clean again?"

You gave a meek "yes" and Heeseung chuckled, sinking back down to his knees.

"As you wish princess."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

PLEASE leave feedback in words, likes don't tell me anything, and don't cause me to write more! Anons, comments, reblogs do!

[skz-streamer]

Sensitive S/o

Pairing: Skz x fem!reader

Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Angst/Misunderstanding?

Warnings: Sensitivity? Slight crying, weights, frustration, small arguments...Im not really sure what to put here so lmk if I missed anything :)

Notes: ARGHHHH I HAD SUCH A HARD TIME TO COME UP W DIFF SCENARIOS SO IM SORRY IF ITS A LITTLE WORDYYY :((( Suchhh a cute ask though thank you lovely anon The Ask :)

Summary: Skz and their sensitive s/o

-please read responsibly, and remember that this work is fiction and meant strictly for imaginative fun. the idols used in fics are more accurately faceclaims and personality outlines for imaginary characters, and should not be interpreted as factual representations of existing people

Full word count ~4.8k ;)

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

Chan:

"So, Y/N," Chan began with a cheeky grin, "did I ever tell you about the time I tried to cook dinner for the members?"

You chuckled, your heart fluttering at the familiar tone of his voice. "No, you haven't! Do tell."

Chan launched into a hilarious account of his culinary mishaps, imitating his fellow members' shocked expressions as they took their first bites of his concoction. You couldn't hold back your laughter, and your eyes sparkled with delight as you listened to his animated storytelling.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky, the two of you settled onto a park bench. The conversation flowed effortlessly, jumping from one topic to another. Chan's arm rested casually around your shoulders, and you leaned into his comforting presence. His jokes and lighthearted banter continued, wrapping you in a cocoon of happiness.

A mischievous glint danced in his eyes as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Hey, Y/N, did you know that you're the only person who can keep up with my terrible puns?"

You laughed, rolling your eyes playfully. "Oh please, Chan. Your puns are legendary. I just try my best to match the greatness."

He grinned a warm and affectionate smile that made your heart flutter. "Well, you succeed spectacularly"

As the conversation flowed, your heart felt light, and the world seemed to slow down around you. But just as the laughter and stories continued, there was a shift in the atmosphere. Chan's teasing took a slightly sharper edge, and a comment that was meant to be a joke struck a chord in you.

"Come on, Y/N, don't be such a crybaby," he teased lightly, not realizing the weight his words held for you.

Your smile faltered, and you felt a pang of hurt deep within. You knew he didn't mean any harm, but sometimes, even the lightest remarks could trigger a sensitive nerve. You tried to shake it off, forcing a chuckle as you replied, "Yeah, yeah, I know. Just can't handle the master of puns, that's all."

But Chan noticed the change in your demeanor, his keen eyes picking up on the shift in your tone. His expression softened as he realized his words had landed differently than intended. "Hey," he said gently, his voice a warm reassurance, "I didn't mean it like that, Y/N. You know I'm just messing around, right?"

You nodded, your throat tightening as you struggled to keep your emotions in check. You hated how easily certain comments could bring tears to your eyes, even when you knew they were meant in jest. But it was hard to shake off the sensitivity, a part of you that you sometimes wished you could control better.

"Hey," Chan's hand cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had escaped. "It's okay, really. I didn't mean to upset you."

Your lips quivered into a small smile as you looked into his eyes, grateful for his understanding. "I know, Chan. It's just…."

He sighed softly, pulling you into his embrace. "Y/N, you don't have to help it. Your feelings are valid. If something bothers you, it's okay to feel that way."

As his arms encircled you, a warm sense of comfort enveloped you. Chan's soothing words seeped into your heart, reminding you that you were allowed to feel whatever you felt. You leaned into his chest, tears wetting his shirt, and he held you tight.

"You're strong, you know," he murmured into your hair. "Being sensitive doesn't make you weak. It means you care deeply, and that's a beautiful thing."

You sniffled, laughing softly through your tears. "Leave it to you to make me feel better, even when I'm being silly."

Chan's fingers brushed gently against your back as he rubbed soothing circles. "I'll always be here for you, Y/N.”

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Lee Know: 

As the credits rolled on the screen, Lee Know let out a content sigh. "That was a good movie, huh?" he said, his voice a soothing rumble against your ear.

You nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips. "Yeah, I enjoyed it. Thanks for picking it."

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. "Anything for you, babe."

You felt a rush of warmth at his words. It was moments like these that made you appreciate how considerate and caring Lee Know was. He had always been attentive to your needs, and you cherished the way he understood you.

But just as the credits faded to black, your blissful moment was interrupted by a sudden noise from outside the window. It was a car alarm going off, and the loud blaring sound pierced through the tranquility of the room.

You winced at the sudden noise, and Lee Know tightened his grip around you, his protective instinct kicking in. "Ugh, that's so annoying," he muttered, annoyance evident in his tone.

You nodded in agreement, but something about the noise seemed to have unsettled you more than you anticipated. Your heart raced, and your eyes began to sting with unshed tears. You tried to shake off the feeling, reminding yourself that it was just a trivial noise and there was no reason to get upset.

Lee Know sensed the shift in your mood and looked down at you, concerned furrowing his brow. "Hey, are you okay?" he asked gently.

You sniffled, your voice barely above a whisper. "Yeah, I'm fine. It's just... the noise startled me, I guess."

He frowned, his thumb gently wiping away a stray tear that had escaped your eye. "You sure that's all it is?" he asked softly.

You nodded, avoiding his gaze. You knew your reaction was disproportionate to the situation, but you didn't want to burden him with your irrational emotions. You had always been sensitive, and sometimes it felt like a weakness.

Lee Know's eyes softened as he cupped your cheek, turning your face to meet his gaze. "You don't have to hide anything from me, you know," he said, his voice filled with sincerity. "If something's bothering you, I want to know."

Your lips trembled, and you felt another tear slide down your cheek. "I know I shouldn't be this upset over a stupid noise," you admitted, your voice cracking. 

Lee Know's expression turned gentle, his thumb brushing away your tears. "Hey, it's okay to feel things deeply," he said softly. "That's just who you are, and there's nothing wrong with that. You're not weak for being sensitive, you're strong for embracing your emotions."

You sniffled, feeling a mix of vulnerability and relief wash over you. "But I feel like I'm burdening you with my emotions," you confessed, your voice barely audible.

He shook his head, his eyes unwaveringly locked onto yours. "You could never be a burden to me, Y/N," he said, his voice filled with conviction. "I love every part of you, even the parts you might consider flaws. And I'm here to support you through everything, even the moments when you feel overwhelmed."

As he spoke, you felt a warmth envelop you, like a protective shield against your own insecurities. His words were a balm to your wounded heart, soothing the self-doubt that had been festering within you.

"I don't want you to ever feel like you have to hide your emotions from me," he continued his voice tenderly. "We're a team, and that means sharing both the good and the tough moments. So, if something's bothering you, let me in. I promise I'll always be here to listen and support you."

You nodded, tears still trickling down your cheeks but now with a sense of acceptance. Lee Know pulled you into a warm hug, his arms cocooning you in a sense of safety and understanding. He held you tightly, letting you know that he was there for you, no matter what.

❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。❀。• *₊°。 ❀°。

Changbin: 

Amid the bustling gym, the clanking of weights and the steady rhythm of treadmills formed a backdrop to the scene. You were there with Changbin, trying your best to push through a particularly challenging exercise. The weights felt heavier than usual, and frustration began to bubble up within you as you struggled to complete the set.

Changbin, ever attentive to your emotions, noticed the change in your demeanor. He had a knack for picking up on your subtle cues, the way your brows furrowed just a bit more, and the determined set of your jaw turned into a slightly defeated slump. As you lowered the weights and sighed, he could sense that something was bothering you beyond just the physical challenge.

"Hey, you're doing great," he said gently, his voice a soothing presence amid your turmoil. "Remember, progress takes time. We all have our off days, and that's completely okay."

You managed a weak smile, appreciating his support even if it didn't entirely erase your frustration. "I know, but it's just frustrating. I used to be able to do this without any issues, and now..."

Changbin's hand found its way to yours, offering a reassuring squeeze. "It's natural for things to change over time. Our bodies adapt, and sometimes that means facing new challenges. But you're not alone in this. I'm here with you every step of the way."

As you attempted the exercise again, a combination of fatigue and your emotional sensitivity made your eyes prickle with tears. You couldn't help but feel frustrated with yourself for getting so worked up over something that seemed trivial in the grand scheme of things. But that was the thing about emotions—they didn't always follow a rational path.

Changbin noticed the glistening in your eyes and immediately put down the weight he was holding. He gently cupped your cheeks, his thumbs wiping away the tears that escaped. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to be so hard on yourself. Your feelings are valid, whether they're about something big or small."

You sniffled, embarrassed by your vulnerability. "I know it's silly, but I can't help feeling like this."

Changbin's warm gaze never wavered, his fingers tenderly brushing against your skin. "You're not silly for feeling things. We all have moments when certain things hit us harder than they should. It's part of being human, and it's what makes you, well, you."

You appreciated his words, his understanding, and the fact that he didn't dismiss your emotions. It was something you loved about him—the way he allowed you to feel without judgment, even when you were grappling with feelings you didn't quite understand yourself.

Leaving the weights behind, Changbin led you to a quieter corner of the gym. He sat down with you, his arm draped over your shoulders as you leaned against him. "You know, sensitivity can be a strength too."

You sighed, feeling the tension slowly melt away as his comforting presence enveloped you. "I guess so. I just wish I could control it better."

Changbin pressed a soft kiss to your forehead. "You're doing just fine, trust me. And if there's ever a time when something bothers you, all you need to do is tell me. I'm here to listen."

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Hyunjin: 

You and Hyunjin find yourselves in the midst of a painting session. The room is drenched in soft, natural light, casting a warm ambiance that should have fostered creativity and joy. Hyunjin is passionately absorbed in his work, brushstrokes gliding across the canvas with determination. You, however, struggle to bring your vision to life. Frustration simmers beneath your surface as you attempt to replicate the vibrant image in your mind.

You swipe the brush across the canvas, the result falling short of your expectations once again. A sigh escapes your lips, caught between the desire to excel and the feeling of inadequacy. Hyunjin glances over, noticing the shift in your demeanor. Concern creases on his features as he puts his brush down for a moment.

"Hey, everything okay?" he asks, his voice a mix of genuine curiosity and worry.

You look up, forcing a smile. "Yeah, I'm just having a bit of trouble getting it right."

Hyunjin steps closer, his gaze softened by understanding. "You know, it's not about getting it perfect on the first try. Sometimes you have to let go of expectations and let your instincts guide you."

As he speaks, you feel a mix of gratitude and frustration. You appreciate his attempt at encouragement, yet the weight of your self-criticism is hard to shake off. You nod, trying to absorb his advice.

But as time passes, your painting continues to deviate from your vision. With each misstep, your frustration mounts. Hyunjin, noticing your growing agitation, offers more guidance – albeit in a way that inadvertently fosters further frustration. His words come out more as critiques than suggestions, and before you know it, your patience snaps.

"Why can't you just let me figure this out on my own?" you burst out, the words carrying a tinge of hurt that takes Hyunjin by surprise.

He freezes the brush still in his hand. "What? I'm just trying to help."

"I know, but it feels like you're just criticizing everything I do!" Your voice wavers, anger and hurt tangling in your chest.

Hyunjin's frustration is palpable, too. "I'm not criticizing. I'm just trying to guide you towards improvement."

"Well, maybe I don't need your constant guidance!" Your voice quivers, the sting of your sensitivity gnawing at you. You hadn't meant for your emotions to escalate so quickly, but here you were – caught in a one-sided argument, tears pooling in your eyes.

Hyunjin's features shift from frustration to confusion as he registers your tears. "Hey, why are you getting so upset?"

Your gaze drops to the floor, shame mingling with your tears. "I don't know, okay? I shouldn't be reacting like this, but I am."

Hyunjin's expression softens as he takes in your vulnerable state. He realizes that this isn't just about the painting; it's about something deeper – a sensitivity that you both know you possess. He lowers his brush, stepping closer to you.

"I didn't mean to make you feel this way," he says, his voice gentler now. "I forget sometimes that not everyone responds well to the way I communicate."

You sniffle, wiping away a tear. "It's not just you. It's me too. I know I shouldn't let things like this affect me so much, but I can't help it."

Hyunjin sighs, his gaze sincere. "You know, sensitivity isn't a weakness. It's just a part of who you are. And I should've been more considerate."

Your eyes meet, a mixture of emotions passing between you. "I'm sorry I snapped at you," you mumble.

Hyunjin places a hand on your shoulder, a warm smile forming. "It's alright. We both have our moments. Let's just take a breather and come back to this later, okay?"

You settle on the couch, the unfinished canvas a silent reminder of your earlier frustrations. Hyunjin wraps an arm around you, pulling you close. "You know, I admire your sensitivity. It means you care deeply about things, and that's a beautiful trait."

You lean into his embrace, finding comfort in his words. "Even when it leads to moments like this?"

He chuckles softly. "Especially then. We're both a work in progress, learning how to navigate each other's emotions."

You smile through the lingering tears, feeling a weight lifting off your shoulders. "I'm lucky to have you."

Hyunjin presses a kiss on your temple. "And I'm lucky to have you. We'll figure this out together, one painting stroke at a time."

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Jisung:

You and Jisung are having a fun-filled game night at your apartment. The coffee table is covered with an array of board games and card decks, and laughter fills the air as you and Jisung engage in friendly competition. It's supposed to be a lighthearted evening, a chance to unwind and enjoy each other's company.

As the game progresses, Jisung's playfully competitive side shines through. He throws out witty comments and playful jabs as he wins rounds and makes strategic moves. His remarks have you laughing alongside him, but one comment catches you off guard and hits a nerve.

"Wow, you're not having a good luck streak tonight," he teases, a grin on his face.

You force a chuckle, but the comment stings more than you'd like to admit. You've been feeling emotionally sensitive lately, and the comment, while meant in jest, resonates with your current state of mind. You glance down at the game board, your enthusiasm waning slightly.

Jisung notices the shift in your demeanor, his expression softening with concern. "Hey, are you alright? I was just joking."

You offer a small smile, "Yeah, I know. Just got lost in thought for a second."

He nods, but his gaze lingers on you for a moment before returning to the game. Despite his attempt to move on, you find yourself feeling more affected by his comment than you expected.

You try to push aside the sensitive emotions that have been triggered. You focus on the games, engaging in the banter and laughter just as you always do. But in the back of your mind, that comment lingers, creating a subtle discomfort.

As you play another round, you notice that your thoughts are a bit scattered. You make a strategic move, but it doesn't quite go as planned. Jisung's playful teasing takes on a different tone in your ears, reminding you of the earlier comment.

"Ouch, looks like you're having an off night," he remarks, a grin on his face.

You glance at him, forcing a smile, but inside, you feel a pang of sensitivity. You didn't want his comments to affect you so much, but here you are, struggling to shake off the emotions they've stirred.

As the game night continues, you feel the weight of your sensitivity growing. You try to brush off the discomfort, but it's becoming increasingly challenging. You want to enjoy the evening and the company, but the comment has struck a chord you can't ignore.

Eventually, you decide that a break is in order. You put on a smile, hoping to hide your feelings and excuse yourself to the bathroom. You get up from the table and make your way to the restroom, closing the door behind you with a sigh.

Inside the bathroom, you lean against the sink, trying to gather your thoughts. The emotions you've been suppressing finally spill over, and you find yourself sniffling softly. You hadn't anticipated that a lighthearted comment during game night would trigger such a strong reaction.

Outside the bathroom, Jisung's concern hasn't faded. He knows you well enough to sense when something's wrong, even if you try to hide it. After a few minutes, he decides to check up on you. He approaches the bathroom door, his hand gently resting against the wood.

"Hey, is everything okay in there?" he asks softly.

You take a moment to compose yourself, wiping away your tears. "Yeah, I just needed a moment."

He doesn't sound convinced, and you hear a soft sigh from the other side of the door. "You know you can talk to me, right? If something's bothering you?"

His words resonate, and you realize that he genuinely cares. The vulnerability you'd been trying to suppress feels overwhelming at this moment. With a shaky breath, you open the bathroom door, revealing your slightly teary-eyed state.

Jisung's concern deepens as he takes in your appearance. Without hesitation, he pulls you into a comforting hug. "Hey, it's okay. You don't have to pretend with me."

Tears escape despite your efforts to hold them back, and you bury your face in his shoulder. Jisung holds you close, his touch a soothing balm for your frayed emotions.

"I'm sorry," you manage to whisper, your voice shaky.

Jisung pulls back slightly, his fingers gently wiping away your tears. "Don't be sorry. It's okay to feel how you feel."

You take a deep breath, the weight of your sensitivity slowly easing as he offers his understanding and comfort. "It's just that... your comment earlier, hit me harder than I thought."

Jisung's expression shifts from concern to realization. "Wait, the thing I said during the game?"

You nod, feeling a mix of relief and vulnerability in sharing your feelings with him.

He lets out a sigh, his thumb gently brushing against your cheek. "I'm sorry if I upset you. I didn't mean to"

You offer a small smile, touched by his genuine concern. "I know you didn't mean it that way"

Jisung's gaze softens as he holds you close. "You don't have to go through this alone, you know? I'm here for you, always."

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Felix:

 You and Felix are spending an afternoon together, exploring a bustling shopping district. The sun shines overhead, casting a warm glow on the streets as you stroll hand in hand, occasionally stopping to peek into storefronts that catch your interest. It's meant to be a carefree outing, a chance to enjoy each other's company and the city's charm.

As you walk, a group of girls pass by, casting a quick glance in your direction before bursting into laughter. Your heart sinks as you catch the tail end of their mocking glances. You feel exposed as if their laughter is directed at you, even though you can't be entirely sure. You clasp Felix's hand a bit tighter, a mix of discomfort and embarrassment pooling within you.

Felix continues chatting about something he spotted at a nearby store, seemingly oblivious to the brief encounter. He's always been the kind of person who radiates positivity and doesn't let minor things affect his mood. You don't want to ruin the day with your sensitivity, so you offer a small smile and nod as he speaks.

As you browse through a store, Felix's genuine concern hasn't waned. He can sense that something is off, even though you're trying your best to hide it. He decides to address the issue and approaches you, his voice gentle.

"Is everything alright?" he asks softly.

You hesitate for a moment before admitting, "Honestly, something kind of bothered me earlier."

Felix's expression shifts from curiosity to attentive concern. "What happened?"

You take a deep breath, summoning the courage to share. "When we were walking, I noticed a group of girls looking at me and laughing. I don't know why, but it made me feel self-conscious."

Felix reaches out, gently tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. "You're a wonderful person, and those girls' opinions don't matter. If anything, their behavior says more about them than it does about you."

"Felix," you begin, your voice soft but resolute. "There's something I want to tell you."

He shifts slightly, his gaze meeting yours with unwavering attention. "What is it?"

Taking a deep breath, you find the courage to speak your truth. "I love you."

Felix's eyes widen ever so slightly, his expression a mix of surprise and tenderness. The moment hangs suspended between you, a pause filled with emotion.

Then, a heartwarming smile spreads across Felix's face, his gaze never leaving yours. "I love you too, more than words could express."

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Seungmin:

You and Seungmin have always had a strong bond, but like any couple, disagreements are a natural part of your relationship. One evening, a difference in opinions leads to a heated argument that tests both your emotions and your sensitivity.

The topic at hand is trivial, something that wouldn't usually escalate into a conflict. But somehow, the conversation has spiraled into a full-blown disagreement, each of you holding your ground with growing frustration. As words are exchanged, your sensitivity to certain tones and remarks heightens the intensity of the argument.

"Can't you just see it from my perspective for once?" Seungmin exclaims, his voice tinged with exasperation.

You feel your heart clench, the sharpness of his tone cutting deeper than he intended. Your sensitivity to emotional nuances has always been a double-edged sword, allowing you to connect deeply with others but also making you more susceptible to feeling hurt.

"I am trying to see your perspective," you reply, your voice strained. "But that doesn't mean my feelings don't matter."

Seungmin's expression shifts, a mixture of frustration and regret flickering in his eyes. "I didn't mean to dismiss your feelings."

As the argument reaches a temporary impasse, you struggle to rein in your emotions. The sensitivity that runs through your veins makes it difficult to shake off the lingering hurt caused by the heated exchange.

Seungmin's brow furrows as he takes in your expression, his frustration fading into concern. He realizes that the argument has taken an emotional toll on you, and the realization dawns that his words have impacted you in a way he hadn't anticipated.

"Hey, are you okay?" he asks, his voice softer now.

You struggle to hold back tears, your emotions bubbling over. "It's just... sometimes the way we argue... it gets to me."

Seungmin's gaze softens as he comprehends the depth of your sensitivity. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize..."

Seungmin takes a step closer, his eyes unwavering. "We'll work through this together, okay? I'll be more mindful of your sensitivity, and you'll let me know when things get tough."

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips, touched by his willingness to bridge the gap. "Deal."

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Jeongin:

You and Jeongin find yourselves on a quiet rooftop, the city lights below casting a soft glow against the night sky. The stars twinkle above, and a sense of tranquility settles over the two of you. Stargazing has always been a cherished activity for you – a time to reflect, share thoughts, and simply enjoy each other's company.

Tonight, however, there's an underlying weight tugging at your heart. Lately, you've been feeling emotionally sensitive, and specific comments and situations are affecting you more than they should. You had hoped that tonight's stargazing would provide a moment of solace, a chance to open up to Jeongin about your feelings.

As the two of you lie on a blanket, gazing up at the constellations, you feel a mixture of contentment and apprehension. You decide to seize the moment and express what's been on your mind.

"Jeongin," you begin softly, "sometimes, I get a little more affected by things than I let on."

He turns to you, his eyes curious. "What do you mean?"

You take a deep breath, trying to put your feelings into words. "Well, like when certain things are said a certain way, or when I'm feeling overwhelmed, it gets to me even if I try not to show it."

Jeongin nods, but his expression doesn't change much. "I get it. We all have our moments, right?"

You feel a pang of disappointment – it's as if he didn't quite grasp the depth of what you were trying to convey. Nonetheless, you press on, hoping he'll understand better with a bit more explanation.

"Yeah, but sometimes it feels like the sensitivity is a bit too much. Like, I wish I could just brush things off, but I end up overthinking."

He offers a sympathetic smile. "It's okay, you know? You're allowed to feel how you feel."

His words are reassuring, yet you had hoped for a deeper connection, a moment of shared vulnerability. You let out a soft sigh, the stars above seemingly reflecting the emotions swirling within you.

As the night progresses, you both continue to share stories, laughter, and quiet moments of contemplation. It's a beautiful night, but there's a part of you that longs for a more profound understanding from Jeongin.

The conversation turns to dreams, aspirations, and fears. You listen intently as he speaks about his hopes for the future, his determination to succeed, and his worries about letting people down. He talks animatedly, completely immersed in the conversation.

You seize the opportunity to dive a bit deeper. "You know, Jeongin, I've been feeling a bit lost lately too. Like, I'm not sure where I'm headed."

He grins, nudging your shoulder playfully. "Don't worry, you'll figure it out. You're amazing at whatever you do."

You smile back, but a part of you aches. It's as if your words were merely skimmed over, not fully comprehended. You had hoped that sharing your uncertainties would spark a more profound exchange.

He yawns and stretches, a contented smile on his face. "Tonight was nice, huh?"

You nod, feeling a bittersweet smile tugging at your lips. "Yeah, it was."

As he gathers the blanket and begins to pack up, he glances at you, his gaze lingering for a moment. "You okay?"

You hesitate, then decide to voice what's been on your mind. "Honestly, I wish sometimes you could pick up on the things I don't say. Like, understand when I'm struggling even if I'm smiling."

Jeongin's expression shifts from confusion to realization. "Wait, are you saying… you've been feeling more sensitive lately?"

You nod, relieved that he's finally connecting the dots.

He lets out a sigh, his features softened by understanding. "I'm sorry if I missed that. I guess I assumed you were always strong, that you didn't need anyone to worry about you."

You let out a chuckle, a mix of amusement and fondness. "Well, even strong people have their moments."

Jeongin's hand finds yours, his grip gentle and reassuring. "I promise, from now on, I'll pay more attention. I want you to know that you can always talk to me."

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[wise-tortoise]

Hi! i’m new to chengxian. so i was wondering, do you have any recs please? preferably long one shots (10k+) and set in the original location (i don’t like modern aus mostly as they are based in the us or uk). sorry for all the stipulations!

HELLO ANON AND WELCOME TO CHENGXIAN!!

I am DELIGHTED to be a source of fic recs, and I have JUST the fics for you.

First of all, I highly recommend checking out the various ao3 collections of past chengxian events, such as Chengxian Happy Ending Fest, or Chengxian Minibang 2023, Chengxian Week 2020, Chengxian Week 2021 , Our Meeting is Inevitable or The Chengxian+ Collection, which are a goldmine of wonderful fics. I'm sure you'll have no trouble finding something to your taste among them!

Now, on to my personal recommendations, under the read more because this got LONG.

Based on what you said you'd prefer, the fic all my dreams have come and gone a half a million times by iri_vail sounds like something you'd enjoy. It's a lovely post-canon shuangjie reconciliation fic, 10k words, with wonderful art. There's frogs too!

consider rivers by Lirazel, 9k, canon divergence fic with no war that rewrote my brain chemistry. Jiang Cheng wants Wei Wuxian to marry Jiang Yanli: lots of yunmeng trio feels, lots and lots and lots of pining.

after the sun sets by Artemis1000, 12k words, it's an amazing fic set during sunshot campaign, lots of hurt/comfort, lots of love and understanding and softness between our two favorite miscommunicators.

electricity between both of us by zyprexd is an absolutely incredible series of two fics that make me go feral. Past w4ngxian, tentative shuangjie reconciliation with long overdue communication, lots of feelings aknowledged and accepted, Wei Wuxian introspection.

Turn Back, Dull Earth by groundwiremantaray, 8k, canon divergence, a whole lot of fluff (with a delightful twist). Though not a oneshot, if you like to read happy times with chengxian, this is absolutely the fic for you.

this love that I most fear by Runespoor, 25k words divided in three chapters, in which a coreless Jiang Cheng has to aknowledge Wei Wuxian as his bastard brother in order for him to become sect leader, with all the relative implications. An angsty delight!

Little Sesame by Rurtle, which is an absolute must read. In which the summoning ritual goes wrong and Wei Wuxian reincarnates into a dog. Shenanigans ensue.

born of waters like blood by Artemis1000 (same Artemis as before) which is one of my absolute favorite fics of all time. Chengxian baby made of resentment and lake waters! Chengxian being dads! An unspecified number of eyes!!!! This fic is a bit shorter than the others I've recced, but absolutely worth reading.

letters from inside the storm by serein, in which everyone has a very bad time (not me though, I enjoyed this IMMENSELY), double whump with a very tentative reconciliation.

if tomorrow would ever come... by Midori_99, 17k, a reincarnation fic in which Wei Wuxian after his death reincarnates into a playful little fox and, despite his best efforts, finds himself once again in Lotus Pier, beside Jiang Cheng (and, really, there's no better place for him to be). The good, GOOD, cathartic angst right here, good food for the soul.

If you'd like EVEN MORE chengxian fics, my bookmarks are open and the fics are all ready to receive lots of love (and of course, if you like, there's my fics too, but they're only open to registered users)

Alright, that's definitely not all the fics I would like to rec, but that's about all I can fit in a single post before it becomes too long.

I suggest of course that you check out other works by the authors I listed, as they are all incredibly talented (and I really really wish I could put more of them here but I tried to contain myself with word count and setting as per your request)

Thank you for the ask anon, I hope you'll enjoy your stay in the chengxian side of fandom and I wish you a wonderful day!!

[runningfrom2am]

requiem // part three

summary: according to coriolanus snow, his best friend had the most beautiful voice in all of panem. she had been training her whole life constantly to get where she was; being up for a residency at the most elite opera house in all of panem. singing was her passion. her true love; and when that got stripped from her in a second, his world became a whole lot quieter. he loathed every minute of it.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 2.5k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: opera singer!mentor!reader (blink and you'll miss it), she's kind of a prodigy!! p cool imo, mute!reader, bestfriend!coryo, friends to lovers trope ooo, mentions of graphic violence early on (particularly the prologue) but after that it's pretty safe, depictions of ptsd/trauma, mental illness and minor suicidal ideation but at least she's not entirely alone, descriptions of minor medical treatments and use of medication.

a/n: guys me and bestie got tickets to sabrina's tour and we are SO excited- we're making our outfits and we're putting in the WORK on rhinestoning those i'll keep yall updated

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist // pinterest board

By the morning, you were in a much better mood. You woke up early, earlier than usual, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't excited to finally go home. You spent the night crying over the fact that you would very likely be stuck like this, but all you had left this morning was acceptance. It would be nice to finally sleep in your own bed again.

You had cleaned up all the dead flowers, and packed all your notes into a folder by the time the sun made its way into the sky, and your parents arrived shortly after that to pick you up.

They tried to be nice, they really, truly did, but they were disappointed in you. You could see it and feel it in the tense silence that always surrounded the three of you during their "visits". It was awkward, and there was nothing you could do to fill the quiet room.

"Are you ready to go?" Your mother asks, helping gather your bags packed full of clothes and books that remained untouched. You nod, smiling hopefully at her. You follow her out to the hall and down the stairs.

"There's really nothing you can do? You can't operate again?" You hear your father's voice before you see him, and you really wish you hadn't.

"No, I'm sorry, sir. her vocal chords have been reconstructed to the best of our ability, operating again would do more harm than good. It would retraumatize the area and could result in more complications, it would be a miracle if that would even help her voice." The doctor replies. "Her voice may come back naturally, but only time will tell."

You hear your dad sigh as you round the corner, and he smiles at you sadly. "Let's get you home, okay?" He says, placing a hand on your shoulder and taking your bag from you, leading you out to the car.

You walk into your mother's library later that afternoon, a notebook in your hands. You knock gently on the door frame to notify her of your presence. "Yes, dear?" She asks, not looking up from her book. You huff, knocking on the door again and waving to grab her attention.

She looks up this time, realization flashing in her eyes. "Oh, gosh, sorry. I thought you were your father." Lies. "What do you need? You should be resting."

You hold up the notepad in your hands with the prewritten note. 'can you call coryo?'

She takes a moment to read it, brows furrowed. "Coriolanus? You just got home, give him a day off from babysitting you. He probably needs a break."

You frown, quickly flipping the page and writing again.

'he's not babysitting me. we're friends.'

"I understand he's your friend, but sometimes even the best of friends need a break from each other."

You roll your eyes. If you could groan you would. If you could call him yourself, you would.

'I'm 18, if I want to invite my friend over I will. I don't need permission anymore.'

Your mom chuckles, shaking her head as she reads the large print of your note. "Except now, you do. Don't you?"

The best you can do to express your frustration beyond how it shows on your face is to stomp your foot on the ground like a little kid before storming off down the hall. It was all you could do. You would try the same routine with your father.

It didn't work on him either, not that you were surprised. They didn't want company on the day you came home, but that didn't mean they actually wanted to spend time with you apparently.

You holed up in your bedroom, put on your music, and laid in bed staring at the ceiling.

It felt like hours before someone came to free you from your own mind, the silent prayers that you would be able to open your mouth and make a single sound. That didn't mean you had been brave enough to even try yet, though, until there was a knock on the door.

You tried your luck, attempting to call out a quick 'come in!', but nothing came from it besides a scraping pain in the back of your throat. You sigh, rubbing your neck gently in a poor attempt to make the pain go away as you crawl out of bed and go to the door, pulling it open with a scowl on your face.

It settles only slightly when you're met with a member of your family's staff standing there holding out a small, delicate vase containing three roses.

You stare at each other, neither of you able to speak a single word as you take the flowers from her hands. She was a young girl with dark hair, and she had been in your home for a year. You didn't know which District she had come from- it wasn't like she could have given you an answer if you asked. The removal of her tongue ensured that fact.

Occasionally you had wondered what each member of your staff had done to earn their fates, but you liked to theorize. Until now, that is, because the fate you were sentenced to is all but the same, and you had done nothing wrong.

Her eyes widen slightly for just a moment as she looks at the scarred skin across your neck, and then quickly back up to meet your eyes.

Her lips part as if to speak, and you tilt your head slightly at her until she quickly shuts her mouth again. You can see her struggle a bit to swallow as she just gives you a small nod, handing you the card that accompanied the flowers before turning to shuffle back down the hall.

After shutting the door and placing the flowers on your windowsill, you carefully unfold the small envelope and read its contents.

'Something to brighten up your room.

Welcome home.

-Coryo'

Graduation and the accompanying gala were within a week of your return home. You're eternally grateful you spent the time to pick out your dresses months in advance, because if you hadn't, you were sure you wouldn't have gone at all.

Standing behind the stage, your eyes continue to focus over and over again on Coryo in his spot in line. It was much preferred to look out at the audience or on the stage as your other classmates were handed their diplomas and posing for pictures for just a moment before exiting on the other side of the stage.

You had missed the rehearsals while you were in the hospital, so really you were just about to wing it- but still, you didn't want to watch anymore.

You dreaded the silence that would come along with your name being called. Well, silence would be preferable to the exaggerated cheers that were more likely to follow- everyone celebrating your mere act of survival after the school spent weeks scrambling to find someone else to sing the anthem at the beginning of the ceremony.

So looking to your best friend was all you could do to calm the blooming anxiety, cursing the alphabetical organization by last name that kept you apart for the moment.

Then it was your turn that came all too quickly.

You look at him again and he smiles at you, which you return with the fake one you were building for the sake of all the photos about to be taken of you as your heels click across the stage. The cheers that block out the sound while you keep your eyes ahead almost make you want to keel over and vomit right on the black flooring of the stage.

Is it possible for cheers to be full of pity? For an applause to be so... sad?

You'd been on the receiving end of countless rounds of applause before, but none had ever made you so embarrassed.

With flushed cheeks and a performative grin, you shake Dean Highbottom's hand.

"Congratulations." He says, and something behind his eyes for just a moment shows that he is not immune to the infectious pity spreading through the audience. He had never shown much emotion before, and if you weren't so close to him right now, you definitely wouldn't have picked it up at all. "We're happy you're here."

All you can do is nod, swallowing and attempting at a grateful smile as you take your diploma from him in the small red, leather folder.

Holding it up and turning to face the audience, you tilt your head with your signature smile for a beat to give your family (or any reporters interested in your recovery and story) time to take their photos before holding the folder to your chest and taking a small bow.

You allow yourself to pretend that you're okay for just that moment. That this was the end of one of your performances, and for just that one moment with your head down, you could block out the pity that came along with the standing ovation you were now receiving.

You were used to it.

But this isn't at all what you expected your final bow to be. And it hurt.

"Congratulations, Miss." Coryo's voice behind you in the crowd makes you smile, and you turn around to face him.

You roll your eyes with a fond smile on your face, doing the best you can to return the sentiment by poking him in the chest over his red gown a couple of times before pulling him into a hug.

He returns it and you feel his chest move as he laughs, gently rubbing your back before reluctantly pulling away. "Hey, where are your parents?" He asks, looking around the crowded front steps of the academy crowded with other students and their families waiting for rides to the gala.

You thought it was a poor choice in words, calling the graduation after party and dance a "gala" when in fact it wasn't one at all. Where you performed was a gala. Or, where you were supposed to be performing. In your mind it was anyway. Maybe you had it backwards.

You stare at Coryo, waiting for him to look back at you again before you're able to try and explain.

"They left." You mouth out, once his attention was back on you. "Work."

"They left?" Coryo asks, brow furrowing slightly as you nod in confirmation. "They're not coming for the dinner?"

You shake your head. "Busy."

"Well, you're stuck with me then." He smiles, nodding for you to follow after him.

When you walk up to his cousin, Tigris, the only person who was able to come for his sake, you realize you may just make up the saddest and loneliest table at the whole event. All your classmates had at least their parents, but most also had extended family members and friends as well. Crowded tables, loud chatting, lots to say and lots to celebrate. You had... less of that. Less talking, in particular.

And once again, you were right.

You tried to enjoy your dinner while many people went out of their way to come and pat you on the back and congratulate you on your graduation- and it just felt patronizing.

Coryo watched it all go down from the seat across from you at the table, staring at classmates and parents as they stopped to talk to you, knowing damn well you wouldn't respond. He hated every minute of it.

The frustration burned behind your eyes like a freshly struck match every time someone tapped your shoulder over the beautiful graduation dress you had asked for his opinion on months ago, the very same one that matched the rose pinned to the lapel of his jacket.

'Why couldn't they comment on that instead? Say you looked beautiful? Or say nothing at all?' He thought.

You couldn't even do a thing about it besides giving people awkward tight-lipped smiles and fake appreciative nods.

"Have you seen the state of her?" Livia says to her friends as you're walking by, and instinctively you drop your head. "I mean, it looks so bad, I'm surprised she would ever show her face in public again."

Coryo's arm that's linked with yours tightens its grip, and he has to be the one to look over.

"Wait, Coriolanus, you were there, were you not?" Persephone grabs his attention when she notices the two of you walking by.

The two of you freeze, sharing a look. Both roughly translating to "Are they fucking serious?"

He clears his throat. "Excuse me? Do you have absolutely no manners at all, I really do not think that-" His gaze flicks between you and the girls from your class as he speaks, preparing to scold them for being so incredulously rude.

Their eyes all go wide simultaneously. "No! Oh, goodness, we're not talking about you, Y/N!" Livia defends quickly and takes a small step closer, looking genuinely mortified by the confusion. "Clemensia. We're talking about Clemmie."

"Oh." Coryo says at the very same time your lips form the same word you couldn't speak.

Sure, they were talking about your classmate this time, but you were not foolish enough to guess they hadn't had a similar conversation about you when you weren't present. Unless they had more pity for your situation, which may very well be worse.

"We were wondering if you knew what happened, you were the last one with her before she got this... 'illness' that has apparently turned her half snake."

Your eyes go wide at Persephone's explanation, and you look frantically between them and Coryo. He had never told you anything about this, and he knew it was his job to keep you updated on all the petty and worthless gossip going on at your school while you were away.

You smack his arm a few times, eyes pleading for him to please explain what they were talking about, as the girls watched you with amused and slightly sympathetic smiles.

"Oh, well..." He hesitates noticeably, shaking his head dismissively. "I didn't... as far as I know she just fell ill."

He was lying and you knew it. You could feel his muscles tense around your arm.

"Oh, really? So, you and Clemmie go to the Citadel to speak with Dr. Gaul, and she is never seen again without scales and you just claim... nothing weird happened?" Livia asks, clearly not buying it either.

He gives a resigned sigh, looking around briefly. "I am not meant to discuss it." He explains quietly. "But... I honestly do not know. She brought us both into a room separately to discuss the contents of the proposal. I went first, and they instructed me to not wait for her. If something happened, I was not made a witness."

The girls seem a little disappointed with this answer, but only for a moment. It was believable enough to them.

"I mean, it's human experimentation- obviously." Livia says with a shrug, bringing her glass up to her lips. "I really don't put it past the doctor, she is deranged at the best of times."

"Ooh, yes, maybe she wanted to see if she could give a human a pit organ- maybe Clemmie can see heat now. Or smell with her tongue." Persephone giggles in a whisper, leaning in so only the three of you were privy to her joke.

You tilt your head, and immediately your mind is running a mile a minute. If Dr. Gaul could alter someone's DNA enough to turn them partially into an animal, she could easily reconstruct your vocal cords... Right?

no taglist this time around!! my fics usually get over a hundred requests to be added to the taglist so instead i made a library! follow me over on @runningfrom2am-library and turn on notifs to get updates when i post new parts!!

[eatmeandbirthmeagain]

Hii,can I request a baldwin one shot ? Where his lady love is pregnant and he is cured from leprosy ? And he wins a tournament for her. You know where would men would get favours from their ladies and fight with a really long stick and the one who falls from the hoarse first losses ? Like in Merlin and House of Dragon . He always shows her off proudly to everyone like the good husband he is. With lots of fluff. I really need some (a lot of) baldwin fluff .He is the only one I've been thinking 24/7 .My man deserved so much better like a significant other and so much love,adoration,etc.😭 Not mfcking Guy or his nonsense . I love your writing so much. When I read your work I feel like I'm living it. By the way congrats for surviving the exams. Sending lots of love <3 💗💗💗.

♡ All For You - King Baldwin x Reader ♡

A/N: Hello Anon! First of all, I am so sorry that it has taken so long to get to this beautiful request 😭. Second, thank you so much for your kind words, I'm so glad you love my work and thank you for your well-wishes <3 !! I hope this is what you had in mind for the one shot! As always, this is based on the film Kingdom Of Heaven, not the real historical figures. Enjoy!

PS: I hate Guy too, Anon 😭

TW: Mentions of Cured Leprosy

It had been six months since the king's disease, that was almost certain to be his end, had been cured by a newly discovered, deep sea plant.

His recovery had been a pleasant surprise to all, but none more than his beloved wife. Y/n was completely overjoyed to have her beautiful husband free of pain for the first time in years.

He himself was in tears with joy the day that he could feel her touch for the first time as sensation returned to his body.

As soon as the last traces of terrible disease had left his body, the king and queen wasted no time in starting a family.

The experience of his illness had taught them both that life was far too short and precious to waste. So not even a month after he was cured, it was announced to the public that the queen of Jerusalem was pregnant with the king's first born.

Since reclaiming his body and health, Baldwin had indulged himself in all kinds of activities, sports, and hobbies that he had missed out on in his years of weakness.

Years of barely being strong enough to get out of bed every day had left him pining for physical activity. One of the sports he had taken great intrest in was jousting.

He had developed a love for the sport since reading about it in a French book when he was younger, but deep down knowing he would never be well enough to play. Until now.

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

“My love! My love! I have something to show you!” Baldwin called, practically tripping over himself as he rushed into the royal chambers.

“Easy darling, don't hurt yourself” y/n said as he approached her with the biggest smile on his once, yet no longer, mottled face. “Look at this!” he held out a flier to her. It was for a jousting competition.

“I am going to enter it, I want to win for you!” he said excitedly, looking at her with anticipation.

Y/n chuckled at his enthusiasm. She could not deny it, he had gotten very good at the sport.

“Are you sure you are up for this darling? I would hate to see you hurt” she replied. Baldwin just smiled, taking her hands in his.

“I am more than strong enough, my love. This is everything I have ever wanted! All I need is your favour” he squeezed her hands to his chest.

Y/n sighed, “very well. Just please, be safe” she told him gently.

Baldwin’s grin widened with joy.

Y/n took a moment to think about the fact that he was still a young man. The mask he used to wear made him look much older than he was, as did his usually calm temperament. But at heart, he was a still young man trying to impress his wife. This warmed her heart greatly.

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

Soon the day of the competition arrived.

For y/n, her anxieties had grown more and more as the day grew closer. But for Baldwin, his excitement had only increased each day.

He was excited to not only participate, but to also finally feel like a man. For years, he had cursed his frail body for not providing the physical protection that his wife so deserved. And now with their baby growing inside her, the need to prove himself as a strong father and husband grew as well.

As much as y/n reassured him that she loved him so much regardless, and that he had nothing to prove, he still wanted to. For her and their baby. 

The king was also looking forward to showing off his beautiful wife to the other contestants. He took every opportunity to present her beauty to the world proudly and this day would be no different. 

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

As the tournament proceeded, each of the men battled until only one remained on their horse, until finally, it was the his turn. Baldwin's competition was won effortlessly and he moved up to the next round again and again until only he and the last man remained.

Y/n had been biting her nails the whole day as she watched from the crowd, and finally it was time. She could not have been more overjoyed when that last man fell from his horse into the mud.

Baldwin was in utter disbelief as the crowd cheered and chanted “long live the king!”. He had really done it.

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

That very night, the queen doted on her husband, congratulating him to the nth degree. They displayed his trophy as a prized possession on the shelf next to their shared bed (this would become one of many prizes he would win for all kind's of sport).

“I am so proud of you sweetheart” y/n whispered to her husband, massaging his tense shoulders as he bathed that night.

She kissed the top of his head and rubbed the back of his neck with her thumbs, earning a tired groan of pleasure.

“Thank you sweetheart” Baldwin murmured in reply.

“I loved winning for you. It was incredible, it just felt so right. Like this was all meant to happen...” he said softly.

“Yes, I believe that it was. Now let's get you into bed before you fall asleep right here” the queen chuckled, noticing his half closed eyes and the words trailing off slightly at the end of his sentence. 

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

The two dressed for sleep and cuddled up against each other in the warm bed.

Baldwin’s hands cupped his wife’s pregnant midsection, laying his head against her chest.

“When I do this, I can hold my entire family in my arms at once. Is that not amazing? Everything I love is right here with me in this exact room” he said to her, his voice sleepy and calm.

Y/n chuckled, at his words.

“I could not be happier than I am at this moment. This is all I have ever wanted, and you have given it to me” Baldwin turned his head up to look into her eyes. “Thank you my love. For everything, truely.”

Y/n could not help but let a single tear roll down her cheek. That was the sweetest thing she had ever heard.

“Of course my darling, there is nobody in the whole world I would rather be with at this very moment than you,” she replied pulling him closer, her voice barely above a whisper.

“You are everything to me Baldwin and you always will be” she kissed the top of his head and ran her fingers through his soft hair.

That was the last thing the king heard before he let his tired body rest. Worn out from the long day of exercise and excitement instead of a terrible disease stealing the life from his body.

Y/n smiled at her husband's peaceful, light snoring that had long since replaced the difficult, struggled breathing that used to keep her awake at night with worry that one day he would fall asleep and never wake again.

Those fears were long since gone and she could now sleep comfortably with the knowledge that all was well and her husband was safe in her arms.

[soyeonsbabygirl]

Hear me out

So y/n broke up with her boyfriend not long ago, and minnie (g!p) tried her best to see her smile again, happy and all cute again. But nothing worked she cried every night in her arms how she hated her ex boyfriend and how she wishes she never met him, she hated that. She hated that her bestfriend cried so much over a stupid men, so she took her way and made her feel like she's the most important person in the world in that moment. She made sure to make her feel good and to forget about that stupud ex boyfriend wich she did bc minnie showed her all the stars that he couldn't do, she fucker her with nothing but love and a promise to keep her bestfriend the happiest person in the world. But she couldn't keep her feelings anymore and she let them spit out like a river and thats when they became a thing

Or

Minnie fucking y/n roughly but with a care so that she forgets about her ex stupud boyfriend and she confess to reader

(i'm sorry i needed to send this request it's stuck in my head since yesterday)

-the mimin x reader anon (also can i be your 🦤 if it's not taken?)

Hi honey! Sorry it took me so long to reply to this but ofc you can be 🦤 Anon! (My first anon this is so cool whatt)

I can be a better boyfriend than him.

G!P Nicha Yontarak/ Kim Minnie x Reader

Minnie sighed as she heard you crying again. It had been 2 weeks since you and your boyfriend — who Minnie personally never liked — had broke up. He had cheated on you which caused you to break up with him. Minnie was upset to see you so upset but was happy that you had finally left him.

She had known for a while that he was a player but she never said anything since she loved seeing you happy contrast to how you were now.Ever since you guys had broken up she would hear you crying, especially at night which made her hate for him grow even more. She wanted to see you smile or better yet just forget him and date her.

She knew how to treat you better and knew what was best for you, she was your best friend but in her mind she was your girlfriend. I mean you guys have slept in the same bed cuddling more times than she could count and each time you guys would cuddle it felt more intimate than the last time even if that wasn’t the goal. You would always kiss her cheek sometimes being too close to her mouth almost as if you meant to kiss her, she would dream of how your lips would feel against hers multiple times often getting hard from just the thought. And when you wore her clothes it made her even crazier imagining multiple scenarios of you being hers and not having to share you with anyone else because you’d be hers and hers only.

One night she had enough, you were in her arms as she held you crying your eyes out. Sobbing saying how you weren’t good enough for him, how everything was your fault, you were just a terrible girlfriend. She got tired of it and grabbed your face kissing you, the kiss was filled with love and passion. She pulled away quickly when she realized what she did.

“I’m sorry- I-I should've asked first I didn't mean to-” before she could finish you pulled her back in to another kiss. This time it had more lust than passion, Minnie’s hands went under your shirt her cool fingertips against your hot skin sent shivers down her spine.

Her tongue dancing with yours as you guys made out on your bed. You both pulled away breathing heavily as Minnie flew to your neck applying kisses to it, you let out soft moans and sighs after each kiss she left. “M-Minnie…please..I need you so badly..” your voice was no louder than a whisper. Minnie smirked against your skin as she lifted your shirt off your body, moving down to kiss your collarbones muttering small praises about how pretty you were, how long she's been waiting for this, and how she loves you.

Minnie took your sweatpants off while you pulled her shirt off her body. “You know,” she said in between kisses “I can be a better boyfriend than him.” She pushed your panties to the side as she slipped a finger inside you smiling at how much you whined. She went back up to your face kissing your cheeks as she began to move her digit in and out of you.

You moaned with every thrust of her finger she made loving the feeling already getting obsessed with how her finger felt inside her. By the time she added a second finger she took in your facial expressions and how pretty you looked like this. Your reactions told her enough of how your ex treated you during sex, and it made her upset. She was gonna show you how much better she was as she sped up making your face contort to pleasure, your walls tightened around her fingers making you mewl.

She knew you were close but if anything that just made her speed up even more til she heard you let out a loud moan your orgasm coating her fingers as she pulled them out. She saw you panting with a wide eyed star struck look as if this was your first time and then came to another conclusion that upset her.

“He’s never made you orgasm? was that your first time ever orgasming?” your shy nod told her everything. The idea of her being the first one to make you orgasm made her harder than she already was, “fuck I need to be inside you right now.” she murmured.

You bit your lip as you looked at her “Do it. I want you to fuck me Minnie.” That was all she needed to hear. She immediately took her pants off as she rubbed her tip on your lips, “how many inches are you used to?” you were silent for a few minutes before answering “I think..5..” Minnie was a bit dumbfounded by this.

It made her feel happy that she was bigger than your ex boyfriend but also a bit astonished. Seriously what did you see him? it doesn’t matter now since she was gonna make you forget all about him. She pushed into you making you count each inch til she was fully inside you. She smirked as she saw your reactions, the way you gripped her hand trying to adjust to her size, the whiner your voice got the more she entered inside you, all of it was beautiful to her.

She was smiling when she saw you take all of her dick in your pussy, once she was sure that you were used to feeling of her inside her was when she started moving. Her hands gripped your hips as she fucked into you. “Fuck, you're so tight. Your pussy feels so fucking good.” you could barely respond only moaning as your vision blurred from each thrust. Minnie began taking up speed as she went deeper and faster inside you.

One of her hands held you down by her hips while the other groped your boobs roughly enjoying how they felt. She felt you get wetter and wetter with each thrust making her moans mix with yours, all the times she would hear you moan for your ex during sex she’d never heard you moan like this. She went rougher even as she felt you orgasm coating her dick, but she had no plans of stopping.

You began to cry from overstimulation as it felt like she had only gone faster when you orgasmed, at one point only driven by lust as she hooked her arms under your legs placing them on her shoulders. With this new angle, she was able to reach even more deeper inside you loving the new angle.

Your moans were so loud that anyone who were to step inside the apartment would be able to hear you guys , the sounds of her thrusting in and out of you echoed throughout the room as both of your moans got louder.

She watched as your walls began clenching on her cock indicating you were close, she was also close and got an idea as she leaned down to your ear “cum for me baby, cum all over my cock. I want us both to cum at the same time.”

She went faster and deeper til she moaned your name in ecstasy painting your insides white, she looked down at you as she stayed inside you slowing down her thrusts, at one point she pulled out a bit and looked at your face.

She was confused as she saw you had a weird facial expression but then saw your eyes squeeze shut tightly as a clear liquid shot out of you. Minnie had a shocked look on her face as she looked down at you. She just made you squirt. Not only was she the first person to make you orgasm but she was also the first person to make you squirt.

You were panting as you looked like you were about to say something but before you could Minnie latched her lips on your clit lapping up all your juices harshly sucking on your clit. You moaned loudly gripping the sheets and due to how sensitive you were you orgasmed again in her mouth as she lapped it all up.

She came up to your lips and kissed you as she laid down moving you to lay on her chest. Once you both caught your breathes she spoke, “Y/N, I’ve been in love with you for so long. I know you just got out of a relationship but can you please give me a chance?”

It was quiet for a few minutes which to Minnie felt like hours. You pecked her lips as you smiled. That was all she needed to hear as she held you impossibly closer to her.

-

This requested me think of boyfriend by Dove Cameron and now I can’t unsee it😵‍💫 I hope you liked the request lovey and I promise I’m working on that Mimin request💋💕

[kunshokunsho]

I've come to your asks a few times before, and it's crazy to think I only found your blog in march. I'm bad with reblogging and commenting and such bc of compulsions, but genuinely you're my favorite artist, and I want you to know that. you draw my comfort character in a style that feels very welcoming and safe, and I really can't thank you enough. I've never seen something from you I don't instantly love, and even if you stop posting one day, I don't think I'll ever forget the warm feeling that so many of your art pieces bring me.

(also the way you talk about jay is the most relatable thing ever)

I wish I could do more to share my appreciation and spread your work to a larger audience. I'm sorry I can't get myself to comment all the positive things your artwork makes me feel when I see it, but please know the effort you put into every piece is much appreciated. and the things you draw genuinely can make someone's day a bit better

-🍄 (I guess you can consider me mushroom anon from now on... asks from march 3 and april 16 were also me, if you're curious)

have a good day / night, kunsho!

oh my god thank you so much,,, this is genuinely the nicest thing someone has ever said to me and you’ve made my year 😭😭 i will continue to work hard to give you and everybody art to enjoy :)))) <33 (also any type of support helps dw abt it :) )

(and here’s a jay just for you(im gonna assume jays one of your favorite characters if you follow me..))

[itsabouttimex2]

AAAAAAA hey I'm the anon who sent that ask and I love the monsters you've picked for each character in the Monkie Glaive AU!! Sun Wukong being a Rajang immediately made me think of the other pilgrims and what sort of monsters they could be in this crossover (Rajang Sun Wukong paired with a Kirin Ao Lie is... a very angst-charged idea that would be a really interesting dynamic too, for example... Sun Wukong tapping into his lightning powers after consuming Ao Lie's horn as some sort of sacrificial last stand between sworn brothers would be a hella angsty idea...).

Also it's kind of interesting to think of how the journey would be like in this AU — Tang Sanzang would be kind of a monster tamer, in a way? Or would the journey not happen at all? He's living the dream Monstie Rider/Tamer MHS life lol

How does the main character 'Monkie Kids' squad work like in the AU (as in, MK, Mei, Pigsy, Tang & Sandy)? Are all of them human? How does Y/N get inserted into the fray?

Sorry for asking so many questions! You can delete this ask if it's too annoying ^^;

Monkie Glaive

The Pilgrims and LBD

Ok, to start off with- Wukong eating Kirin!Hybrid Ao Lie’s horn for a power-up is such a genuinely good idea that I’m actually sad I didn’t think of it myself- but I’m making it canon now because it’s too good of an idea to waste.

(Especially given it’s the second time he’d lose someone dear to him in this AU. Technically three, because he loses Macaque twice)

Also, it works even better considering that Wukong’s “final foe” in his past is the Lady Bone Demon, instead of the Demon Bull King (who remains a sort of ally)- and she definitely wasn’t the sort of person he could defeat alone.

And, unlike canon… he actually killed her.

So, what kind of monster was the Lady Bone Demon that could be so dangerous that Tang Sanzang would allow Wukong to kill her?

A Shagaru Magala- who bear with them a powerful, frenzying plague that rots the minds and bodies of whoever become infected with it.

How bad is this virulent infection? This about sums up the reaction to contracting it that any being has.

Her plot was to bathe the world in her plague and simply have the infectees destroy it after going mad. (In fact, her first victim was Macaque- twice over.)

So the Great Monk, ever compassionate and merciful… still wished to show her mercy- though, she hadn’t molted yet, and still wasn’t at the peak of her power. She was still a juvenile of her species- a Gore Magala when Sanzang made the plea to spare her.

Despite being sealed away, the Lady Bone Demon molted very soon afterwards, assuming her true aureate form- which gave her the power to break free. Then she went and tracked down the pilgrims for a final all-out fight- that had lethal consequences.

The Lady Bone Demon descends in a shower of infectious gold and black.

She makes her first attack towards the monk- which his loyal pilgrims move to intercede.

One makes it in time, and collapses in a shower of pitch dust and pained tears.

Ao Lie, infected by the Frenzy Virus and losing his mind… tearfully allows Wukong to kill him and eat his horn. So the Great Sage loses a friend to his own hands for the third time, and gains an incredible boost of power.

Sanzang, realizing that his misplaced “mercy” is in part what allowed this to happen, gives Wukong explicit permission to end the fight- fatally.

After a bloody and brutal fight, the Monk takes a moment to hold and soothe his disciple, to tend the Great Sage’s repeating sorrows and well of tears. There’s not much that can be done to calm him- Wukong just has to slowly work through the tears and agony of losing another friend.

(And Tang Sanzang probably has to talk him out of returning his staff to Ao Guang in a fit of sorrow and guilt. Wukong is not in a good headspace through this AU.)

But, unknowingly, Lie’s thunderous spirit is bound to Wukong’s body, an ever-present force that’s always trying to comfort and soothe the simian- not that he can communicate or interact with him directly. He’s just there, hoping that one day Wukong will forgive himself for what’s happened.

———————————————————————-

Tang Sanzang himself is the world’s very first Rider, actually! Instead of beasts, Sanzang treats his disciples as though they were his very own children- which is why they all adore him so much.

He’s especially doting to Sun Wukong, who is very much in a nasty downwards spiral and in need of rehabilitation and therapy. He rarely uses the circlet (which Wukong put on himself and frequently used to self-harm), but acknowledges the need to reign in the simian’s worst aspects.

Sha Wujing is a Lagiacrus, actually! I didn’t necessarily want to add a second thunder element to the gang, but… come on! He’s blue and orange! He’s big and mean! He’s a watery fella! It had to be this Leviathan! I’ll just have him not have access to the lightning element to balance things out.

(But I also seriously considered making him a Coral Pukei Pukei)

It also allows him to be a “big, scary-looking monster that would inspire fear in those around him.

And for Zhu Bajie, I think he’s quite appropriate as a Mosswine- though I had considered making the demon a Poogie! I think being the lazy and gluttonous individual that he is, Bajie might be the sort to lay still for so long that moss grows across his back.

Also, Wukong slowly picking through the moss for bugs? Getting to do a harmless little “simian” thing and engaging in healthy skinship? It’s so good for him.

And, as offered by the incredible commenter above… Ao Lie is a Kirin. I imagine he’s the monster that Sanzang most frequently rides, given his docile nature and placid attitude. He’s still quite clumsy in his human form, but now trip-ups tend to result in Lie sparking off and inadvertently putting quite the light show.

He’s a little insecure about maybe not living up to the majesty and grace that his kind are known for, honestly. And, right up until the very end- Lie is quite nervous about being around Wukong.

(I’ll make a separate post later for the Monkie Kids, just so I don’t clog this up!)

[jinkicake]

Hi

Flowers for you because you deserve 🤗

I wanna ask if you've already made a forced marriage with Deinslief?

I love reading your works ❤️

Forced / Arranged Marriage Trope

(pt. ??) Dainsleif x Reader

A/N: Hi, Anon!!!! You're too sweet </3333 Thank you for the flowers, they're so pretty TTTT I haven't written one of these for him yet but, I wrote it for you!!! I'm sorry that this took a while, I've been writing but never have the time to post!!! I love Dain so I hope you enjoy this!!!!

WC - 988

~~~

“Knight captain of the Royal Gaurd, Dainsleif.”

The announcement of your betrothal looks as if it means nothing to you. Dainsleif can read the judgment in your expression, he can see how displeased you are as you run your pretty eyes up and down his kneeled frame.

Oh, you have no idea what you do to him.

It seems that you have nothing else to say to him, to the one which you are going to be married to, or anyone else as you turn and head back for your room.

Before you leave out the door, you take a step back and gently spin on the tips of your toes to face the remaining audience in the room.

“He is who I am supposed to be married to? A knight?” You do not hide the judgment in your voice as you speak with a squeak.

“Part of the Royal Gaurd, your majesty,” One of your handmaidens answers and it does not satisfy you in the least. Your eyebrows shoot to your hairline as you manage to give her a tight-lipped smile.

You await their bows and curtsy before stepping out of the room, no doubt heading for your place of solitude. No matter how much you despise this alliance and wish to push the knight off, he knows you better than you think. Dainsleif knows why you push eligible bachelors away, one after another until the last they could pick from was him.

You value your independence more than anything else.

It’s also why he knows to find you at one of the more reserved fountains hidden away in the court’s garden. You’re all alone as you prefer to be, looking pitiful as ever while staring at your reflection in the rippling waves of the water.

The sounds of Dainsleif’s light steps gather your attention, a quick turn of your head but, you’re quickly back to running your gloved fingers against the surface of the water.

“I did not wish to insult you,” You quietly murmur and the knight takes it as the only apology he is going to receive from you tonight. He cherishes it.

“I understand,” Dainsleif stands beside you, his back toward you as he looks on at the hidden bushes of the garden. The shrubs are so tall that he can’t imagine anyone finding you here for hours, it’s clear why you prefer the spot so much.

“I do not have the desire to be a wife.” You confess and finally, allow your hand to scoop up some of the water. The substance completely drenches the material covering your palm but, it’s a sensation that does not bother you. You relish in the feeling of your hand in the water, it’s freeing and calm, you can choose to move however you wish. Dainsleif grants you silence as a sign to continue. “I am not devoted, not submissive in the least. I worry more about the country than I’ll ever worry for my future husband.”

Dainsleif’s jaw clicks with that as he quietly sighs, would you not care for your husband even if he were the one fighting for the country?

“That does not matter to me,” He replies and softly lets his eyes flutter shut. “I will let you keep the freedom that you desire.” At the lack of response, the knight opens his eyes and turns to face you. You’re staring at him, chin on your knees as you try to understand his perspective. He can tell you don’t understand an ounce of his harbored affections, one that has been buried for many years. The pout on your face signifies this, you look lost as you stare at the stars in his eyes.

Slowly, Dainsleif lowers himself onto one knee (fitting of a knight) and gently pulls your hand into his own. He takes his time with removing your glove and keeps his eyes trained on your face to see if your expression changes.

“I promise you will get everything you want, your highness,” He seals the promise with a kiss on the back of your hand, a gentle peck that makes you gasp. The sound is followed by a bodily reaction as you stiffen all over and immediately try to pull away.

“Why?” You ask and the quickened rise and fall of your chest does not go unnoticed by the knight. He keeps his trained eyes away from the sight. “Why do you wish to marry me?”

“Your happiness is always something I have cherished, if you trust no other man to make you happy then you must allow me.”

“Accept me.”

The expansion of your pupils tells the knight everything he needs to know, followed by the shallow intake of your breath. He forces himself to withstand his feelings of desire and tries to think of anything else than sealing the plead with a proper kiss.

You blink at his words, parting your lips to speak but no words come out. As you look down at him and run your eyes over him one more time, you begin to nod.

“Alright, only because you have properly protected me for so long.” You announce before bringing your hand to gently cup his cheek. Dainsleif has known you since he got the position assigned to you, over five years ago before either of you broke the yolk of adolescence. “And, because I know you will be a good husband.”

The softness swimming in your eyes nearly makes the knight’s heart stop. His breath hitches in his chest as he tries to mask the effect you have on him. The task is entirely hard to do now since you’re finally reciprocating his feelings.

Dainsleif will personally see to your utmost safety until the day he no longer roams this earth.

((Perhaps that vow is why his lasting immortality stings that much harder since he ends up living much, much longer than you do.))

[halsteadlover]

My Blessings

*Gif not mine credits to the owner*

• Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader.

• Requested by anon: Just sending you a request about Jay seeing your bump for the first time.

• Warnings: none, just tones of fluff.

• Word count: 1752.

• A/N: so I’m trying to update as much as I can now, I hope you’ll like this and please share, comment, reblog e like if you want, it’d mean a lot ❤️ love you all and thank you for your support.

Pregnancy sickness was no joke.

Since you found out you were pregnant, toilet and bed had become your best friends, if you weren't in bed you were throwing up and if you weren't throwing up you were in bed resting.

You were warned the first few months would be tough but not so tiring you couldn't even do the housework or even work.

Not that you had any other choice though. Jay wouldn’'t let you touch anything even if you wanted to.

In fact, since you told him you were going to have a baby, he became super protective of you, he wouldn't let you do anything, not even cook. Not that you minded, you never told him but you loved madly that protective side of him and you felt so lucky, because you knew your baby couldn't have a better father.

You couldn't wait to see them together, to see the love of your life become a father which was one of the things he wanted most. Since the good news had arrived, you immediately noticed a change in him.

Besides the overprotectiveness, he had gotten incredibly sweeter—which you didn't even think possible since he'd always been the sweetest, most thoughtful man you'd ever met—he was much more present. He was just happier.

You couldn't believe how a little bean could make him so content, happy, joyful. He was always so smiling, his beautiful green eyes sparkled so much that they alone could light up an entire galaxy. He was so beautiful it hurt, and with each passing day you loved him more and more, which you didn't even think possible.

He always tried to give you everything he could, he was always there for you, asking if you wanted some water, if you wanted something to eat, when you were throwing up he never left you alone, not even for a second, he was next to you holding your hair and he’d stroke your back, and how angry he’d get if you threw up in the middle of the night and didn't wake him up.

Every night before going to sleep he’d caress your non-existing baby bump, talking and whispering sweet things to the bean in you womb. He usually talked about his day, how much he already loved him/her and couldn't wait to hold him or her in his arms.

He had already started buying a huge amount of toys, cradles, strollers, even though the baby was several months away and how much you enjoyed seeing him built the cradle with that joy printed on his face which made him even more irresistible.

The more you looked at him, the more you didn't know what you had done to deserve such a beautiful person by your side, how could’ve you been lucky enough to give your child the best father that any person could even think of having.

That baby wasn't even fully formed yet and already had Jay wrapped around his finger.

“It'a okay baby I'm here, everything will be alright,” Jay kept whispering comforting words to you as he held your hair with one hand and stroked your back with the other as you threw up. What better way to start the day than having your face down the toilet?

God you hated this, you couldn't wait for this phase of constant vomiting and endless exhaustion to end. It was a nightmare.

“I'm so sorry my love. I wish I could take this from you.”

You shook your head slightly. “It's not your fault,” you muttered initially “Actually yes, it's mostly your fault.”

He laughed. “I'll take all the blame.”

You stood up and feeling dizzy, you leaned on Jay, who put his arm around your hips, holding you tightly to keep you from falling.

“Baby are you alright? Do you need to lay down?” he asked, his voice worried. It broke his heart to see you sick and so weak and, above all, not being able to do anything to help you.

“No, no, I just want to brush my teeth now,” you replied “Baby you will be late for work.”

“There's no way in hell I'll leave you right now, forget it, I'll be late I don't care, Voight will understand.”

“No baby he won't,” you chuckled, knowing your boss well.

“Like I said, I don't care about anything or anyone but you, you are my priority and I want to take care of you baby,” he retorted before leaving a kiss on the top of your head and from the tone of his voice you understood there was no room for you to argue.

After brushing your teeth, Jay went into the kitchen to make you something to eat for breakfast, and while you were changing into a shirt (obviously Jay's), you noticed something that made your heart leap with joy.

Your belly was finally starting to show.

It must’ve been the pregnancy hormones, but you started crying with happiness. It was an indescribable feeling seeing your baby growing inside of you. You didn't tear your eyes away from the mirror even for a second as your hands continued to caress your baby bump, the shirt lifted.

You stood in profile, facing the mirror and God, you would never have believed that just seeing your belly grow could give you such an indescribable emotion. When had it happened? When did it grow so much? Did it just grow overnight?

You were so distracted by looking at your belly in the mirror you didn't even notice Jay had run into your bedroom, worried stiff.

“Baby what the hell? Why you didn’t answer me? You scared the shit out of me, I thought you passed out or something.”

If you weren't so up in the clouds, you would’ve teased him about his overblown concern and the way he always thought the worst.

You turned to him. “Baby look!” you exclaimed, cheering like a little girl in a candy store.

Jay's gaze dropped to your belly and his eyes nearly popped out of their sockets as he too noticed your growing baby bump. His mouth dropped open in amazement and at the same time a huge smile formed on his face.

“Oh my god…” he sighed, not expecting to tear up at the sight of your belly growing. How could he not be moved though? His baby was in there growing, his child.

“God baby you're so fucking gorgeous,” he said before pulling you into a warm hug. He kissed you like if his life depended on it, his hands on your face. “I love you so, so, much I can't even explain it.”

“Jay….” you whispered, feeling him sniffle. You broke away from his embrace for a moment, noticing how he looked down and immediately tried to wipe away his tears. “Oh baby….”

He shook his head, but you placed your hands on his face and lifted his head, forcing him to look at you. With your thumbs, you wiped away his tears even though in the meantime you were the one who was crying.

“Don't cry please you're gonna make me cry too.”

He giggled through his tears, hugging you again before pulling away and showering you with kisses.

“I'm sorry baby I just… I just feel so lucky, so blessed to have you,” he said, then looked down at your still uncovered baby bump, “You both are my miracles. I honestly don’t what I did to deserve both of you.”

His hand began to caress your belly his eyes used on jt as you looked at him, your eyes scanning every inch of his face. Seeing him so happy filled your heart with so much joy you were almost afraid it was all just a beautiful dream.

“The mother of my children… Man, how did I get so lucky?” he marveled, but he seemed more talking to himself than you. It was as if he was trying to convince himself about what he had done in his life to deserve such happiness, but he really didn't know how to answer. Before you could say anything, he leaned in front of you, lowering himself to your belly.

He started planting kisses all over your belly, as his hands continued to caress you. Just the sight of this brought tears to his eyes and you had put a hand in front of your mouth to avoid bursting into tears like a fountain.

“Hi baby it's your dad again,” he whispered after giving a kiss on your baby bump, addressing the little bean inside you. “Hurry up and get out of here buddy, I really can’t wait to hold you… And also because I don't like seeing mommy feel so sick, I know it's not your fault but I just want her to always feel good,” he sniffed again and by then you had lost every ounce of self-control and became a total mess, “I love her so much baby and you can't understand how lucky you are to have a mom like her, and how lucky I am to have someone so wonderful and fantastic like her by my side, to spend the rest of my life with… And I love you madly too little bean, I haven't even seen you yet and you've already made me fall madly in love with you and if only you could look at me…” he chuckled “I'm a mess right now and I only saw the baby bump… I can’t even imagine what will happen when you’ll be here…”

As your hand stroked through his hair, your face was still streaked with tears and when Jay looked up at you and noticed you were crying, he stood up and placed his hands on your cheeks before wiping away your tears.

“I'm just…These damned hormones…” You let out a sob and you both laughed.

“Sorry love I didn't mean to make you cry,” he said, giving you kisses and kissing your tears away. It wasn't new to see you with tears in your eyes every time Jay spoke to the baby, so he had gotten used to it a bit even if it wasn't easy anyway, he hated that even a single tear wet your face.

“How about we go do some shopping for our baby?” Jay asked, giggling when he saw how your eyes lit up and how you stopped crying as soon as you heard the word shopping.

God what I’d do without you.

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Masterlist

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[padfootdaredmetoo]

I come with requests (pls). You can decide if it has smut or not but-

SHERLOCK (ENOLA HOLMES VERSION) IS TALKING TO IRENE AND Y/N IS JEALOUS CUZ HE SEEMS TO FLIRT WITH HER N STUFF.

Again, you can decide if there's smut or anything but I NEED this fic.

It would be greatly appreciated as I need another reason to listen to Reputation.

Hey Anon,

Again I'm incredibly sorry you had to wait so long. Hope you enjoy this!

Warnings: Smutt, dom / sub vibes, arguing

The whole situation was wrong. You stood in the doorway of Sherlock’s apartment, the apartment you recently had to move into. The woman seemed to enjoy your startled expression, her eyes were dark and there was a smirk ghosting on her red lips. 

“This is-” Sherlock started his eyes fixed on the woman, to your relief he had kept his distance. He was leaning against the fireplace mantel. 

“Oh, I know who she is.” Her eyes narrowed, and her body was sprawled across the couch. “I’m Irene, an old friend of Sherlock’s,” She said moving her gaze back to him. 

You wanted to throttle her, wishing that women’s issues could be settled like men. Instead, you smiled brightly. 

“If I knew we were having guests I would have put something together. I’ll put the kettle on.” You moved into the kitchen. 

“No need darling. I'm not here for tea.” She uncrossed her legs and sat upright. “I came here for business.” 

Then it started. You stayed on the edge of the room as the two started to banter. Crime scenes, clues, motives, both trying to get the upper hand. You struggled to keep up as they argued, one thing was glaringly obvious. The tension in the room was palpable. You felt the electricity and it made you sick to your stomach. 

They were an inch away from each other, Sherlock looking unimpressed and cold, while she looked like she was savoring every moment of the interaction. 

“Maybe you should look a little closer, somewhere in the woods maybe?” 

“Moriarty-” 

“Sends his regards.” She whispered her eyes focused on his lips. Part of you felt like you should intervene, and the other part of you felt like slinking away. This was so embarrassing, he seemed to forget about your existence altogether. Part of you knew it was because he wanted the missing information from the case he was working on, but the rest of you couldn't feel that logic. 

You were swallowed up by his lack of concern for you. He looked and acted as if he was single, he was doing exactly what she wanted him to do. 

She turned on her heel and left, slamming the door behind her causing you to jump. Your stomach and chest were tight, but you would rather be shot than let him see that he had hurt you. 

You moved to the bedroom and shut the door, locking it even though you knew he would probably be sitting there sorting through her riddles. 

You grabbed a bag stuffing it with clothes, anger seeping out of you. It was going to be a huge mess if you went to your sister's place like this but you didn’t care. Any place was better than here. 

You opened the bedroom door and to no surprise, he was sitting there staring out the window. Muttering under his breath. He never liked being interrupted when he was like this. So you walked across the living space towards the front door. 

“Where are you going?” He asked exhaling smoke from his pipe. 

“Doesn't matter.” You shrugged. 

“Of course, it matters.” He stood up fully attentive now. 

“No -” 

“She just gave us the missing clue, Morarity is--” 

“Is a fucking ponce. I don't have time for this Sherlock. I can't do this,” You slipped a little then took a deep breath making your way closer to the door. 

His large frame blocked you and you were surprised that he was making such an effort to keep you there. He looked like he was struggling to explain something. 

“You're angry. I don't understand why.” This made your blood boil.  “But Moriarty wants you.” 

“I’m glad someone does.” You bit back. His face was stern and you knew he wasn't going to let you leave and a part of you was happy to argue.  

“You don’t think I want you.” His voice was just above a snarl, and his eyes were dark. His anger had the opposite effect on your body, your pulse raced and you suddenly felt a few degrees too hot. His glare was consuming and you hated him for how attractive it was. 

“Obviously not. She was all over you, and you - you - you - just let her. Right in front of me - you didnt even -” He leaned his face closer to yours and your words cut off.

“She wants you to run out of here angry. There’s a delivery carriage just up the street that hasn't moved since she got here.”Sherlock whispered. “She’s already left, thinking you’d run out of here. We have the upper hand.” 

You thought about what he was saying, there was plenty of logic. The way her eyes would land on you periodically despite flirting with Sherlock. She was obvious too obvious about it. You still felt like fighting. 

“I don’t like this.” You gritted your teeth. Many converstations had recently been had over the many ups and downs of the life he lead. How you were attched to him publicly now due to a careless misstep. Now you understood his reluctance all these months. 

Moving in with him was the safest option. You didnt realise how angry all of that made you, how your private life was boiled down and sold as broth for everyone to consume. Somthing so dear to you, you knew deep down you wouldnt want to live without him. You closed your eyes, you wanted him. But the world needed him. All those murdered women, cases left unsolved completley neglected until he would show up. 

He was doing what was right. A thought that comforted the anger you felt at the loss of control. 

“Then let me make it up to you.” He said through gritted teeth. A voice in the back of your mind told you to run away from the darkness in his eyes. Your body stood frozen in place, welcoming his rage. 

He closed the space between the two of you and gripped your jaw tightly. You looked up at him with wide eyes, he was so angry. His mouth crashed into yours and you felt yourself slip away into blissful submission. 

This wasn't normal for you. When you wanted to fight you let him have it. You would shout at him and was always secretly grateful that he could take it. He never tried to take advantage, letting you express your emotions freely. Normally without consequence. But his hands were warm and gripping at your flesh madly.

You felt like you should make an effort to push back, try to take some control back. But your body had a mind of its own. You wanted him to make it up to you, and for once you didn’t want to be the one thinking and doing.  

You let him ravish you, pulling apart the front of your dress. His mouth biting the flesh along your breastbone. He pushed you against the living room wall, and a crashing sound was noted in your periphery but you didnt have the brain power to care. He used his knee to press his way between your legs. His hand ran up the inside of your thigh bringing your skirts up higher. 

His mouth tenderly sucked in a nipple causing you to knot your fingers in his hair. A groan escaped your lips, your eyes fluttered closed and the last of your thoughts faded away. 

Your mind was singularly focused on receiving his touch. He placed one last sharp bite against the base of your neck before picking you up. He kissed you messily as he carried you back to the bedroom. Kocking over piles of books and experiments. The place would be a disaster after but you didnt care. His large body somehow managed to safely navigate the chaos before reaching the bedroom. He threw you down on the bed and quickly discarded your dress. His body was on yours in the span of a breath, he wasn't going to risk letting you sober up and snap back to reality. 

A faint warning sounded that there were still men waiting outside the house… That thing could be dangerous. The thought only made you wetter. 

Your mind went blank as you felt his mouth on your clit. No warm-up, no warning. Your legs snapped shut and you let out a scream. Your hips bucked and he placed a hard slap to the side of your thigh. 

You were getting close, your voice was loud. He moved away and you tried to push his face back down. He resisted you easily. With a fluid motion, he had moved his whole length inside you. The stretch was almost enough to make you orgasm. 

“Not yet.” He snarled, thrusting inside you wildly. His large hand cradled your neck with a delicious grip, his teeth sinking into the flesh under your collarbone once more.  

The pain and pleasure was too much for you. Your hips met his every thrust desperate for his command. Your throat was sore from crying out. 

His thrusts became harder and deeper, stealing the air from your lungs. Your whole body was tensing up.

“Cum” he growled into your ear and your body contracted and seized. The pressure was unbearable, he forced his way in and out of your tight cunt, finding his own release. 

After an eternity your body finally collapsed into nothingness. The most soothing nothingness. 

Sherlock collapsed onto the bed next to you. Pulling you against his naked body tightly. You let him move your limp body, still not able to grasp the world. 

“I’m sorry.” He whispered into your hair. His voice was thick with grief, and you shuddered against the sudden cold that moved against your skin. “I will send you to Frace, there is a monastery there -” 

“Stange thing to do to a woman before banishing her to live with nuns” You mumbled rubbing your cheek against the hair on his chest. 

“I can keep you safe.” He sighed heavily. 

“Perfectly safe here. He’ll find me if you send me away, better to stay next to you. Handle this like every other case.” You were very proud of the contributions you made to the cases you had helped with.

___________

The man shifted looking down at his watch once again. The lady never left the apartment. He felt antsy, Moriarty made it very clear how he deals with disobedience, the last thing he wanted was to end up another case file on Sherlock’s desk. 

He didnt really want this job. He looked at the apartment window through his side-view mirror. Guilt hit him at the thought of kidnapping a woman. His brother had made it very clear that this was the only way to pay off his debts. The thought of his nephew and sister-in-law, made him stay in his seat. 

Stupid family. 

After a long while he got down from the carriage. He ran up the stairs and was hit with the sounds of crashing and screaming without his better judgment opened the apartment door.  221B, just like in the papers. 

To his astonishment, the place was trashed. Books, instruments, broken glass, and various liquids thrown across the hardwood. The sound of the woman’s screams made his stomach drop. Sounds like maybe someone else was hired, in case she went the other way or something. With a heavy sense of guilt, the man turned and shut the door behind him. He ran down the street leaving the carriage there. Maybe whoever else was on the mission would go back for it.

Thinking one last bitter thought about his family, he got on the next train out of London. He sat on the train and said a prayer for the poor woman, pledging never to get involved with such things again.