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#and only the adult performers remaining
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He was oppressed and afflicted,  yet he did not open his mouth; he was led like a lamb to the slaughter,  and as a sheep before its shearers is silent,  so he did not open his mouth
isaiah 53:7
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Nobody is making anyone go into scriptwriting. No one is born in a Netflix company town where their dad takes them into the script mines at age 12. Fuck writers who want to get paid more than once for the same job. They should only get residuals AFTER all the people who do REAL WORK, like construction, grips, costume, makeup & animators etc. Most of them are much better at their jobs than writers especially for streaming services, and they are what screenwriters can lean on & novelists can't.
People need to realize that the unions for white collar people like WGA or SIEU or NEA (public sector unions are why cops who kill the people they were supposed to serve & protect remain employed get pensions) is not the AFL-CIO or any other historical union fighting for the lives of the people who built the country's industry and made it run, any more than the NRA are the Minutemen of 1775 New England.
First, go fuck yourself, you fucking scab. No, seriously - you don't come to my blog and spout off about what workers deserve unions and decent pay and what ones don't, like it's your fucking decision. The intellectual labor that writers perform is just as real as any other work done on a film set - "all who labor by hand or brain" is the inherent logic of industrial unionism for a reason.
Second, writers aren't asking to get paid more than once: residuals are deferred pay, you absolute moron. In Hollywood, whether it's writers or actors or voice talent or whatever, you get a small fraction up front - it's usually an ok check, depending on the union's day rates and so forth, but you can't make a living off stitching these together - and then most of your pay comes from monthly royalty checks that provide you with the income you need to live off when you're between jobs.
The problem is that, historically in Hollywood, residuals have been structured with a very long "tail" - the payments start out relatively low and then get more generous over time as the show has more seasons and (presumably) goes into syndication. This doesn't work with streaming's new business model, where increasingly shows are getting 2-3 seasons max and streaming services have become increasingly quick to not just cancel shows but yank them off their servers in order to avoid paying residuals.
So what WGA writers are fighting for is a system that ensures writers (but also actors and other creative workers, because the unions pattern bargain) get a fair share of the show's revenue, even if the show is only given 2-3 seasons.
Third, the U.S labor movement would not exist today if it wasn't for white collar workers and public sector workers. About half of the U.S labor movement - 7 million workers - is public sector, and those workers are overwhelmingly women of color, mostly working as either teachers or postal workers. Likewise, about half the U.S labor movement is made up of white collar workers, and we're graduate students and adjuncts and lab researchers, teachers and social workers, administrators and IT departments.
I'm both public sector and white collar, and I'm a member of an NEA union. I'm an adjunct professor who earns $6,000 a course and it's my job to get working adults with jobs and families who've never gone to college or who've been out of higher ed for a decade to graduate with a bachelor's or a master's. If you don't think that's real work, you're free to research and write all the lectures and powerpoints, deliver those in an entertaining and educational fashion, answer a flood of questions from students who need help navigating academia, and then grade all the midterms and finals and research papers.
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crashandlivewrites · 4 months
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Spread Your Wings- Part 1
This came from some very, very horny brainrot from a porn star by the name of Manuel Ferrara and got me thinking. And writing.
Pairing: PornStar!John Price x PornStar!fem!reader
Summary: Porn wasn't your ideal career choice, but here you were. Your manager has just contacted you saying a veteran of the field has requested to work with you as he winds down his career. The only issue? You've definitely gotten yourself off to him multiple times, leaving your professionalism in question. And John, well, John's not helping the situaiton with how he treats you.
CW: MDNI 18+ content, NSFW, porn industry inaccuracies, oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), fantasy relationship, John being an absolute munch (duh), consent and check ins (because John is responsible in every universe)
Word Count: 4.9k
Part 2 >
Read on Ao3
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It wasn’t your first career choice, nor your second, third, or fourth. In fact, if you were honest with yourself, it was never even a thought. Yet here you were, several performances into your adult entertainment career and on a steady rise with a decent paycheque along with it. But you were yet to experience a big break, one that would just allow you to feel a little more settled, give you the standing to be pickier with the roles you selected to film. And you had feeling that this next one was going to be that breakthrough. 
Holding your phone in your hand, you read and re-read the message from your manager that he’d sent you earlier in the day. 
Got a personal request to film with you. John Price. Details listed below. 
John Price. John fucking Price. That man practically owned the porn industry. One of the most popular male actors for almost the past couple of decades. You’d be lying to yourself if you hadn’t done a deep dive or two into his repertoire of videos on long, lonely nights with a bottle of wine and some toys to accompany you. Porn was one thing. John Price porn was another. He was older, hot, and had thick, veiny, mouthwatering cock that made you squeeze your thighs together every time you saw it. But that wasn’t what had drawn you back to his videos time and time again. It was the way he seemed almost… tender. Rough, to be sure. But also, sweet.
 And he wanted to film with you. You. He had only released a few videos in the past year, slowly winding down his career to instead focus on his hobbies and other interests. Or at least that’s what his team had told the media. 
The document your manager had attached to the text was a simple call sheet with the basic run down of the shoot. It was nothing you hadn’t done before. In fact, it seemed vanilla in comparison to most porn, but that’s what John Price was known for. Soft sex. Romantic sex. Pussy pleasing— if you wanted to be a little crass, but that was the reason he was a massive hit with the audience. You’d also heard from other co-stars that he was incredible to work with. Charming, attentive, and made sure his partners always felt comfortable. 
And he requested you? 
That was the part that stunned you the most. You stared at the two names on the call sheet, his name directly next to yours under the subheading ‘cast’. You blinked, wondering if you’d imagined it. But your name remained, and you were meeting with him in— you glanced at the time and swore. Less than an hour before you had to be on site and the drive took a good twenty minutes on a good day. 
Hopping into the shower, you knew you’d have time to prep on site, but there was something in you that wanted to make a good impression on your costar, craved making a good impression to someone as decorated and well-respected as John Price in the industry. 
***
As your manager was walking with you to the meeting room, you realised you’d never actually met John Price before. Sure, you’d seen him around at a few work events, but he was a rare sight at social gatherings these days. You could feel the nerves bubbling underneath your skin as your manager scrolled on his phone, muttering comments under his breath as he went. 
“Pretty much one of his last videos. Or at least that’s what his manager said. I’m honestly surprised he chose you over someone more well known, but it’s great for your career.” The subtle dig wasn’t missed on you, but there was some truth to your manager’s words, and you’d been thinking the exact same. Why had he chosen to work with you, someone practically unknown to him? Maybe it was a question you’d never have an answer to as you stopped outside of the door, fixing your hair unconsciously before pushing the door open. 
He was already in the room, sitting next to his own manager, Kate if you remembered correctly, with the director at the head of the table. Smiling at the group, you ducked your head and mumbled a couple of apologies about being late as you hurried to your seat, directly across from him. There was a general murmur from the room acknowledging your apologies before returning to their conversations. You swallowed thickly as you raised your head, meeting his deep blue eyes as he stared at you, the corners crinkled as a wide smile stretched over his face, a smile, it seemed, that was just for you.
“Hey sweetheart, lovely to meet you. I’m John.” He spoke lowly, quietly, as though to the of you were sharing a secret. His voice was rough but soothing, exactly like it had been in all the videos you’d watched of him. Crossing your legs, you held out your hand to shake his with your own shy grin as you introduced yourself. 
“It’s an honour to be working with you, John.” It wasn’t a lie. You had a lot to gain from working with him. Just having your name on the call sheet was enough to open doors for you. The director was Nikolai, who you’d never worked with before, but you knew he was a good friend of John’s. He also shook your hand before getting the meeting underway, outlying the expectations, and going over the general script. There wasn’t much to the story, like most of John’s scenes, but you weren’t complaining. Little story meant less lines to remember and John tended to improv. Next was an overall brief of safety, a rundown of yours and John’s likes and dislikes during scenes before everything started to wrap up.
 Once signing the consent forms, your manager stood up, nodding to you as he collected the form along with Kate and Nikolai. 
“I’ll leave you two to it.” He spoke. Your brows furrowed, feeling your heart race as you glanced over at John who shot you a warm smile.  
“John prefers to talk to his scene partners one on one beforehand.” Kate explained, patting her colleague on the shoulder. “Something he’s always done. Allows you to get to know each other a little better.” 
“Oh.” Your voice was small, but you nodded as the trio left the room, leaving you alone with someone you’ve gotten off to before. 
“I know it’s a little unconventional, but I feel like it smooths things out for the scene.” He explains gently, pouring two glasses of water and passing one to you. “I’ve seen your work. You’re good. I liked the one you did with Johnny.” People often think that working in adult entertainment rids you of awkward modesty, but here you were, face heating and glancing away from the older man as he fully admitted to watching your scenes and was complimenting you on your performance.
Your scene with Johnny had been enjoyable, which had been a rare occurrence in your experience in the field. It was a job after all, not filled with screaming pleasure like scenes often displayed. But Johnny had made it easy, fun. Kept the mood lighthearted during the retakes and scene cuts. 
“It’s probably been one of my favourites to date. Johnny was good to work with. I know you’ve worked with him before.” John nodded. 
“A couple of times for threesomes and gang bangs when he was first starting out. But I stopped doing group scenes once he got on his feet. Wasn’t really my thing.” He shrugged, eyes carefully watching you even as he lifted the glass to his mouth. You hummed, pursing your lips, and interlocking your fingers. Letting out a huff, John placed the glass down and reached out, resting one of his large hands over yours, thumb caressing your knuckles. 
“You’re okay, sweetheart. I know the reputation my name can bring but I assure you, anything you’re not comfortable with, it’s off the table.” Your shoulders relaxed as your head lifted, a genuine smile on your face. 
“Thanks, John. I just… you’re very seasoned in the field.” You winced at the word choice, but he chuckled, standing up to walk around the table and take a seat next to you. 
“With my expertise comes the ability to adjust things to my liking. It’s why I work with Nikolai. He knows how I work, lets me run the show really and works his mastery by getting the angles that make me look mildly flattering.” 
“You’re flattering from all angles, John.” At the compliment, he raised his brow, eyes trailing down your body for a moment before snapping back up to yours. 
“Seen my work, have you?” He teased, the smile turning cocky as he leaned back in his chair, rested his cheek on his fist. You shot him a look of your own, which answered everything. “So, you know how I tend to conduct my scenes?” 
“You like to please your viewers.” You answered confidently (answering questions about your scene partners sex scenes is something both normal to want and possible to do, right? You might even get a good grade.) “Your tendency to lean towards softer sex brings in a more female-dominant audience.” The smile reaches his eyes, lighting them up in a way you found particularly charming. 
“I like to please pussy. An important distinction.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “It’s why I became more selective about my scene partners.” 
You were thankful your legs were already crossed over, covering the urge to squeeze your thighs together at the lowering of his tone. A question nagged in the back of your mind. Why you? But you weren’t confident enough to ask it.
“How do you want the scene to run?” You asked instead, turning the conversation back a little more professional. John shrugged. 
“I like to let things flow semi-naturally. Enjoy a lot of sensual touching and kissing. I’m getting older so I don’t enjoy the rough and fast constant fucking like I used to. Also, a lot harder to keep it going for that long.” He glanced over at you out of the corner of his eye. “Besides, I find my scene partner enjoys it more when there’s a lot more sensual physical contact involved.”
“And how would you know that?” Your voice was coyer than you felt, leaning towards him as you placed your elbow on the arm rest. His head tilted the expression on his face overwhelmingly cocky as he snorted. 
His voice lowered to a velvety purr. I’ve become good at reading people, sweetheart. I can tell the difference when people fake feeling good, and who’s actually into it. If I’m going to spend my time coming into a studio, I want to enjoy the day’s work, and for my partner to as well.” 
The hairs on your arms stood on end as his voice lowered, his eyes boring into yours as he waited patiently for you to respond. Running your tongue along the line of your teeth, you processed his words. 
“How do you know that we’ll work out, though? We’ve never worked together before. Wouldn’t it be easier doing a scene like this with someone you’re more comfortable with?” 
“Sweetheart,” John shuffled forward on the chair, placing a reassuring hand on your thigh, thumb tracing over the inside of your knee. “I’ve watched your work; seen what scenes you feel more comfortable with. Had Kate speak to your manager too, to get an idea of what your preferences were. I think we’ll work out fine.” 
“You asked about me?” Your eyes were fixed on where his hand rested, looking at the thickness of his fingers and swallowing. 
“I like to know who I’m working with. But I also had to listen to Johnny talk about you for hours after his scene. Thought I should take the buck down a peg and show him how a real veteran pleases a lady.” His breathing was levelled and composed, the complete opposite to yours, allowing him to hear exactly how much he was affecting you. You swallowed thickly as you tried to keep some semblance of professionalism while his thumb rubbed slow circles into your thigh, and you began to worry about the state of your panties.
“It’s porn, John.” You whispered, eyes blinking rapidly as you tried to surreptitiously shift in your seat. “It’s acting, it’s a job.” 
“Doesn’t have to be, sweets. Who says you can’t enjoy your work? Especially when you’re good at it, huh?” His smile broadened as he lifted his free hand to smooth over the bristles of his thick beard. Squeezing your thigh one last time before standing up, cupping your chin to ensure your head follows his movements. 
“You can back out at any time. Just say the word. But until then, I’ll see you in 30 on set, yeah? You’ll find your uniform in your change-room.” Two fingers tapped your cheek before he stepped out of the room, leaving you alone, hot, and bothered. Thank fuck for the change of clothes. Hopefully you wouldn’t soak through these panties as well, but after all, it is porn.
Taking a bit of time to freshen yourself up, you stood, staring down at the so-called ‘uniform’ John had told you about. A thin satin slip nightdress with some lacy white underwear, bra foregone. You couldn’t help but feel your heart in your throat at the thought of John specifically picking out the piece with you in mind. Surely, he’d done this with all of his costars. 
As you thought back to each of his videos, trying to recall what each of them had been wearing, unwarranted jealousy filled your head instead and you squeezed your eyes tight. He was a costar. Nothing more. This was his job. He was many years your senior. It was silly, childish, and petty to get jealous over the other people he’d slept with, especially professionally. But he’d chosen you to film with, and that stirred some primal, possessive part of you, and you slid the silk over you, wondering how thick fingers might rip it off.
A knock at the door pulled you out of your head, snapping you into gear as you changed. Pulling it open, you saw Kate standing there waiting. Her gaze remained professional as she admired the dress. 
“It suits you well. John’s always had a good eye for things like that. Come, let’s head to set.” Walking at a steady pace, you kept the conversation flowing. 
“Does John usually do things like this?” You pointed down at the dress, trying to keep your tone neutral. Kate laughed lightly, shaking her head. 
“Not always. Usually only with his favourites.” She gazed at you out of the corner of her eye. “But he’s so winding down on his career, so maybe he’s just in a generous mood.” There was something in her tone that left you feeling slightly baffled, no closer to understanding the reason why he’d picked this out for you. 
Stepping into the studio, the first person you noticed was John, dressed in a button-down shirt with fitted slacks. He whistled lowly, eyes unabashedly roaming over your figure. 
“Look at you. Knew that colour would suit you well. Come. The sooner we get started, the sooner we can enjoy ourselves, yeah?” He held out a hand, motioning towards the set.
“You didn’t have to.” You breathed, glancing down at the dress. “But I really appreciate the gesture. Almost makes me feel bad for not getting anything for you.” Taking his hand, he leads you towards the bedroom set, where you were playing his partner in an established relationship, waiting for him to come home late from work. 
“The gift is working with you, sweets, and looking so perfect in that dress.” His stare was a little hungrier this time, raking over your body. Squeezing your hand, he stepped back behind the camera as Nikolai motioned for the scene to begin.
***
As you stood leaning over the kitchen bench, you hear John step onto the set, placing down the empty prop briefcase as he sighed heavily. 
“Hey, sweetheart. I’m home.” A hand clasped over your hip as he pulled you towards him, burying his face in your neck. Reaching up, you cupped the back of his head, humming softly as you tilted your pelvis back against his. His fingers dug into your hip firmly, a deep rumble in his throat probably not audible enough to be picked up by the microphone. 
“Welcome home, honey. Did you have a good day? 
“Better now that I’m here.” He replied almost instantly, body hands now cupping your body, breath heavy on your skin as he trailed his fingers up and down the lines of your body. “Especially when my wife is lookin’ so pretty in what I bought her.” 
His… wife? That hadn’t been specified in the script. Sure, it said an established relationship, but there was something that stirred inside you at the sound of that word coming from his mouth in reference to you. And so, you played along. 
“Gotta make sure I look pretty for my husband, don’t I?” You purred, turning your head to his as you grinned, pressing your lips to his temple, nails dragging over his scalp. 
“Always look pretty, lovey. Pretty for me, hmm?” God he really was good at making his costars feel wanted, pinging the right receptors in your brain that craved this for real. You moaned prettily, arching your back for both John and the camera as his hands slid up your front, thick fingers ghosting teasingly over your breasts as he mouthed at your neck. Whimpering, you placed one hand over his, trying to urge his hand down, but he tittered in your ear. 
“So desperate, aren’t you? Don’t worry, you’ll get what you want. Just let me play with you first, yeah?” You nodded at him as you glanced over your shoulder. There was no way you were going to say no, not with the way his large hands were running over your body, tugging the pathetic excuse for clothing as he went. Your lashes fluttered as his lips sealed over your neck, sucking softly as he ground his erection into your ass. 
God he was already hard. The voice of reason in the back of your head told you he’d most likely taken viagra like a lot of the men did to keep it up for so long, but the fantasy you were playing through your head liked to think it was all you. Letting out another low growl, John bared his teeth, biting into your neck before sucking soothingly. 
“No marking!” You heard your manager exclaim in the background, before being hushed by Nikolai. 
“Don’t interrupt. He knows what he’s doing.”
As if to spite your manager further, John swept your hair away, latching onto the other side of your neck, drawing out a soft moan as you clung to his short hair, encouraging him further. 
“Yes! Please! Mark me as yours.” John presses his weight against you, causing you to fall forward onto your elbows on the bench. Hands cupped the globes of your ass roughly as he pressed a line of kisses down your exposed spine. 
“My pretty fuckin’ wife, aren’t ya?” His voice was thick with desire as his fingers teased the hem of your dress, scrunching it up until it lifted over your ass. John groaned as he revealed the swell of your cheeks, the thin straps of the white thong he’d bought barely covering anything. “Look at you. So fuckin’ pretty. Too fuckin’ pretty for me. Can’t believe you married me. I’m so lucky to have you, sweets. Perfect girl f’me ain’t cha?” 
Your head was spinning as the words of praise kept coming. Bent over the kitchen bench, ass on display for him, and held down by one of his strong arms made you feel incredibly vulnerable yet secure in a way you hadn’t felt filming before. 
“One leg up for me?” He tapped the outside of your thigh, and you hitched it up obediently, knee resting on the bench to expose yourself further to him. John let out a low breath as he sunk to his knees between your spread legs. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see a camera following his movements and so, like you’d been taught, you clenched, causing your clothed cunt to throb for the camera. And for John. You heard him chuckle and glanced over your shoulder to see him staring up at you with a brow raised. 
“Cheeky thing.” 
His hands ran up the backs of your legs, causing you to shiver in anticipation. His breath was close to where you wanted him and you whined in response, tilting your hips back ever so slightly to display your soaked underwear better for the camera. At that movement, John clicked his tongue and slapped your ass. 
“This pussy’s mine, y’hear?” He growled almost possessively, fingers digging into the backs of your thighs, keeping your legs spread for him. “Look at you. So wet and eager for me, huh? Bought you these pretty knickers and you’ve already ruined them.” One finger gently traced along the length of your clothed slit, and you keened, trying to push your hips back to gain more friction, but his other arm wrapped around your hips, pinning them to the cold bench. 
“Don’t get greedy now, sweetheart. You’ll get what you want, just let me admire you first.” Already, your legs were trembling as his thumb brushed against your clit. Gasping a little excessively for the camera, you bit your lip, fingers pressing into the stone below you as you felt him lift up the soaked underwear and pull them to the side. 
“Oh love.” He cooed, blowing gently on your sensitive, exposed skin. “You’re so wet. Have I been neglecting my duties as your husband? Not been treatin’ my wife right and leaving her desperate and utterly drenched. You been wet and wanting all day, sweets?” Though you couldn’t see his face, you could hear the smirk in his voice, hear the cockiness as even he knew you were this wet for him naturally. 
Moaning in affirmation, you shook your ass in his face. “God please… need your mouth on me, sir. Need it so badly.” He chuckled, thumb returning to brush against your clit, this time with no fabric in the way. 
“Being so polite, love. You really do want it, huh? My mouth on your pretty pussy? Look at it. So swollen and needy.” Gritting your teeth in impatience, you glanced over your shoulder, meeting his cocky gaze as lips pulled into a smirk. 
“Please, I need your mouth on me. I’m so wet for you. Want your tongue in my cunt.” The smirk faded slightly from his face and his eyes narrowed as he stared up at you for a moment. One finger steadily tapped against your thigh as time seemed to ooze by. Gulping, your brows furrowed, unsure if you’d said something wrong, but then he winked and leaned forward, licking a fat stripe up your slit. 
Breath hitching at the sudden movement, a broken moan left your lips as your eyes fluttered closed. Your body clenched as your hips twitched, angling them slightly to follow John’s tongue. Chuckling darkly, John whispers into your cunt, your own ears barely able to pick up the words. 
“There’s the real you, sweetheart. Gimme more of that.”
The soft whimpering from your mouth just urged him on, his tongue licking broad strokes over your cunt before he slid his fingers between your labia, spreading them to flick the tip of his tongue delicately over your clit. Jumping at the direct stimulation, you tried to pull away from him, but his arm still held firm over your hips. 
“None of that now, love. You’ll take what I give you like my good little plaything, yeah?” 
“Oh fuck…” You whispered under your breath, eyes fluttering as you nodded. Taking that as permission, he dove back in, lavishing your cunt like he was starved. His tongue dragged up the length of your slit before plunging in to taste you deeply, thumb working over your clit. Then, he kissed his way down so his lips could replace his thumb, sealing themselves over the bundle of nerves, sucking and flicking it at the same time. 
The bristles of his facial hair burned the insides of your thighs pleasurably as he buried his face into your wet pussy, nose prodding your hole as his mouth continued to work you over. His hands ran up your legs, caressed the backs of your thighs, and over your ass to spread your cheeks wider, giving him more room to work with. 
“John… oh my god John please!” You buried your face into the crook of your elbow as you moaned pitifully, feeling a genuine orgasm rising much faster than you were expecting. 
“Lift your head up!” The sharp voice of your manager broke you out of the fantasy and propelled you back to the reality of the moment. You were at work, filming. This wasn’t for personal pleasure; it was meant to be marketable for audiences. Lifting your head up, you tipped it back slightly, putting on a face for the camera as you moaned, not that you needed to fake much with the way John was devouring you. 
Snarling at the interruption of your manager, John’s fingers dug tighter into the meat of your ass, tongue swirling around your clit in sharp circles as he groaned, the vibrations running through your body, causing you to press your hips back onto his face.  A guttural noise rumbled in his chest as you did so, and he pulled away. John was panting heavily as he stared at you swollen, wet cunt, eagerly twitching and throbbing for more. 
“You have no idea how fucking good you taste, do you love?” His voice was gruff, lustful as he ran two fingers through your folds once more, spreading them to reveal your cunt so he could spit, and then plunge two fingers into you. Almost immediately, he hooked them expertly, just right to press insistently against that spongy spot inside you as he trailed soft kisses along your inner thighs. His beard was soaked with your juices, leaving the feeling of sticky wetness behind as he returned to your clit. 
Sucking in air, you felt your body beginning to slide over the smooth surface of the bench as your body temperature rose. John’s mouth returned to your sex, teeth gently grazing over the hood of your clit before pressing his tongue against you and sucking. Letting out a high-pitched wail, you felt yourself clenching around his fingers, hips bucking into his mouth as he continued to pleasure you. Unable to find purchase on anything stable, you gripped your own hair, throwing your head back as you moaned loudly, feeling your inevitable climax approaching. 
It wasn’t like you hadn’t orgasmed at work before, but it wasn’t common. And when it had happened, it certainly wasn’t this intense. Heart beating rapidly and your breathing quickened as the tandem effort of his fingers and mouth brought you closer. John could tell too, with the way he kept the same rhythm of his fingers and mouth, letting out muffled groans when he felt your pussy squeeze around his digits. You felt your entire body clenching before spasming, your orgasm rushing through your body as you twitched and jerked uncontrollably. 
“Fuck John… fuck!” You moaned lewdly, remembering to at least roll your eyes back excessively for the sake of the camera, when all you wanted to do was bury your face into your arm as your body shook from the intensity of your climax. 
John had pulled his mouth back, working you through your release with his fingers inside you and his thumb on your clit. Your juices dribbled down his arm and between your legs, puddling on the floor below you as he crooned. 
“Oh, fuck look at you. Fuckin’ squirting for me ‘n all. Good fucking girl. Good fucking girl! Knew you could do it. You’re so fucking hot, love. Wish I coulda seen that pretty face as you came like that.” He pressed soft kisses to your thigh between his sweet, vulgar words, fingers slapping gently over your clit to extend your orgasm for as long as possible before you jerked, the overstimulation settling in. 
Withdrawing and rising to his full height, John flipped you around effortlessly, so you were on your back and tugged you close. He wrapped your legs around his hips and pulled your body up by the back of your neck so he could seal his mouth over yours. Trying to fight the urge to simply go limp, you gripped onto his thick arms, but you could feel yourself sagging. Noticing, John pulled back, resting his forehead on yours. 
“Need a break, sweets?” He whispered, his voice earnest, and you knew he was looking out for you. His grip tightened around you, making sure he was holding you steady as you made up your mind. 
“I think so.” You nodded, sucking in breaths to try and calm your racing heart. “Haven’t cum that hard in a while, sir. I think I’ll need a breather.” He hummed, pressing a reassuring kiss to your cheek before signalling Nikolai over your shoulder. You heard the director yell to cut as John ran his fingers down your arms soothingly. 
“Tell me what you need.”
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justlemmeadoreyou · 7 days
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rain-kissed* (footballer!harry x
nerd!y/n)
summary: y/n and harry, former rivals turned reluctant partners, find unexpected chemistry. heated glances, playful banter ignite a spark. a near-tragedy makes y/n confront feelings, and...will they be reciprocated? ft. lots of mutual pining
words: 6.1k
warnings: Angst, fluff, mentions of a major injury, cursing, kissing, hints of smut, mutual pining.
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Y/N groaned as she walked into the lecture hall for her literature class. "Are you kidding me?"
There in the very front row sat Harry Styles - captain of the football team, president of one of the biggest frats on campus, and certified douchebag extraordinaire. His feet were obnoxiously propped up on the desk in front of him as he laughed loudly with his friends. 
"This class is gonna be a nightmare," Y/N muttered, taking a seat as far away from Harry's circle as possible. She couldn't stand arrogant jocks like him.
Class started and the professor cleared her throat loudly, shooting Harry a pointed look until he dropped his feet to the floor with an eye roll. "Alright, since this is an upper-level lit course, we're going to kick things off with a big group project."
A collective groan went through the class. Group projects were the worst, especially when half the group didn't pull their weight. Harry raised his hand lazily.
"What's the project, Millers?"
The prof narrowed her eyes at Harry's casual address but proceeded. "You'll be analyzing the themes and formatting an anthology of poems, plays, and short stories from a particular era or movement. I'll be assigning the groups and topics."
Y/N mentally prepared herself to get stuck doing all the work as usual for her group when Millers started listing off the pairings. 
"Styles and Y/L/N - you'll be covering the Romantic period."
Y/N's head whipped up in horror as Harry scoffed loudly. Of course they'd get partnered up. This was quite literally her worst nightmare.
"Fucking kill me," Harry grumbled, slumping back in his seat rudely.
"I'd rather work alone," Y/N couldn't stop herself from retorting. Immediately, Millers zeroed in on her with a stern look.
"I don't recall there being a choice, Ms. Y/L/N. Unless either of you plans to drop this course, I suggest you learn to work together effectively."
Gritting her teeth, Y/N forced out a tight, "Yes, Professor."
Harry was already texting rapidly on his phone, not paying any attention. This project was going to be utter hell.
The rest of the semester only proved Y/N right about what a nightmare it would be to work with Harry. Their first meeting to divide up the work went about as well as could be expected - which is to say it was a total disaster.
"Look, I don't have a bunch of time for this bullshit poetry stuff," Harry kicked back in a creaky chair, looking entirely too at home in the empty classroom they'd claimed for their work session. "How about you just do the whole thing and I'll, like, proofread it at the end or whatever?"
Y/N stared at him incredulously. "Absolutely not! This is a hugely weighted project, Styles. I'm not doing all the work myself."
He shrugged impatiently. "Why not? You seem like a big ol' nerd who'd be into this."
Biting back a retort, Y/N forced herself to remain calm and reasonable. If he was going to act like a damn child,she had to be the adult in the relationship–or whatever this was.
 "Forget it. We're going to split everything 50/50 whether you like it or not. I'll take the poetry analysis and you can have the plays. We'll swap sections to proofread before compiling the final thing."
Harry made a face like she'd asked him to perform surgery. "Do I have to? Plays are so boring."
"Don't care," Y/N said flatly. "You're pulling your weight on this one way or another."
With a melodramatic huff, Harry finally agreed and they were able to separate the reading materials and due dates before parting ways, both dreading the long weeks ahead.
Except...after trading several heated email chains and a couple disastrous coffee shop meetups, something shifted. Maybe it was the punctuality that struck after virtually living in the library for a week straight. Maybe it was how they both surprised each other by not being complete idiots about the subject matter. But at some point, the bickering and resentful silences turned to a bearable truce and even - dare Y/N think it - a hint of reluctant respect between them.
Y/N had assumed Harry was just another brainless party bro who skated by on his looks and family money. But to her surprise, he actually had intelligent insights into the Romantic poets and playwrights - even if he still whined about having to read "this dramalogy crap." 
And Harry, who had fully expected Y/N to be an uptight, pretentious book nerd, found himself caught off guard by her whip-smart analysis...and her unexpected sarcastic quips that had him stifling laughs more than once during their study sessions. He called her nerd instead of her usual name, but was now slipping back to using Y/n more often.
"Oh my god, you did not just say that about Lord Byron!" Harry snickered as Y/N made another scalding comment about the poet's arrogant womanizing. 
"What? The man was an infamous manwhore by all accounts," Y/N shrugged unapologetically. "Self-important dickhead thought his brooding and philandering made him a genius."
Harry gasped in mock offense. "How very unromantic of you, love! Have you no poetic soul?"
Without missing a beat, Y/N deadpanned, "I prefer to admire poets who didn't give the clap to half of London."
The startled laugh that burst from Harry's lips was so warm and uninhibited that Y/N felt an unexpected little flip in her stomach at the sight. Whoa, what was that?
Shaking it off, she hid her face behind her book again, tamping down an oddly giddy–sort of feeling. Just because she'd managed to find Harry slightly less insufferable lately didn't mean anything.
And so it went, their bickering gradually becoming more lighthearted and playful rather than biting. The weeks ticked by as they somehow formed an unlikely...friendship? Bros? Sure, they'd go with that for simplicity's sake.
At some point, they started expanding their hangouts beyond just study sessions too. Grabbing food after class turned into actually sitting together, Harry regaling Y/N with stories from his frat's latest shenanigans as she pretended not to be entertained. 
On the rare nights Y/N wasn't holed up writing papers, she started joining Harry and his boys at their favorite dive bar, quickly becoming the calm voice of reason trying in vain to talk them out of their next boneheaded plan.
"Come on, PlainJane! Live a little!" Harry teased, throwing an arm around her shoulders at the bar. 
The rowdy group cackled at Harry's horrible attempt at a literary-themed nickname for Y/N, as per tradition when any new face got absorbed into their friend circle. Personally, Y/N thought it was a lame pun, but she secretly loved how easily she'd slotted into their bizarre fratty family...and maybe especially how Harry always seemed to plaster himself to her side whenever they went out.
The camaraderie and effortless banter flowing between them should've been a huge red flag that something was shifting. But Y/N was quite stubbornly oblivious, as was Harry in his own way.
At least, that was until their big group presentation day rolled around. They'd been prepping and quizzing each other for weeks, reviewing notes and analysis essays till they were cross-eyed. Harry had really stepped up, much to Y/N's surprise, retaining way more than she'd expected about the playwrights and their major works.
The whole lit class was spread out in the lecture hall, with bullet-pointed notecards and thick anthologies ready as the first group took the floor. When it was finally Harry and Y/N's turn, they moved to the front in sync, Harry shooting her a subtle wink as he grabbed the microphone first.
"Buckle up, kids - this is how you do a proper literary presentation," he drawled cockily.
Y/N rolled her eyes on reflex, biting her lip and bumping his hip with hers in playful admonishment. "Shut up and just start already."
Neither of them noticed the amused looks being swapped by their classmates at their easy rapport. Or Millers leaning back with a knowing smirk, clearly recognizing the chemistry flying between her formerly antagonistic partners.
For the next hour, Harry and Y/N launched into their meticulously prepared overview of the key figures and works emerging from the Romantic period. Their back-and-forth was flawless yet casual, almost playful at times with little ad-libs and jokes only they were in on.
At one point, Harry lightly mocked Lord Byron's arrogance with a pompous impression that had Y/N doubled over giggling into the mic, barely choking out the next lines through her laughter. When she managed to catch her breath, she shot him a look that was equal parts fond exasperation and...something more heated.
There was a noticeable spark between them that had clearly evolved far beyond the adversarial classmates they'd started as. And if anyone could miss that subtext, it became blindingly obvious at the end when they seamlessly transitioned into their concluding remarks, standing shoulder to shoulder.
"So in summary, while the Romantics may have been a pretentious bunch of melancholic lads-" Harry began.
"-their pioneering works cemented their place as quintessential figures in literary history," Y/N picked up without missing a beat. 
They shared a grin before finishing in unison, "And that's the tea, no cap."
A surprised burst of laughter rang out from their classmates at their cheeky sign-off, even the prof hiding a smile behind her hand. Everyone could see it - the easy chemistry, the almost electric undercurrent between the former rivals.
Everyone, that is, except Harry and Y/N themselves. 
As they moved to return to their seats amid the applause, neither seemed to register the weighted looks and muffled whispers following them. Harry just ducked his head with an almost bashful smile, still riding the high of how flawlessly they'd worked together. While Y/N felt her cheeks flushing under the weight of what she convinced herself was just residual adrenaline.
In the weeks after their wildly successful presentation, that same strain of electrifying connection only grew stronger between them. You'd never know they'd spent the first half of the semester low-key loathing each other based on their current vibe.
Now, when Harry's frat brothers tried to rib him about his "study buddy" at their typical dive bar hangout, he just threw an arm around Y/N's shoulders and proudly declared, "More like my brain twin!"
Y/N would just duck her head with a bashful grin, pointedly ignoring how her heart did a little somersault at both the affectionate nickname and Harry's easy touch.
Or like when they sprawled out on the quad between classes, passing a bag of chips back and forth as Harry ranted about his coach riding his ass over the big rivalry game next week. Without even thinking about it, Y/N would reach out to squeeze his knee consolingly as he huffed out his frustrations. It was such a simple, natural gesture between them now that she didn't even register the slightly stunned look Harry shot her before clearing his throat gruffly.
Even their friends couldn't resist commenting on their respective obliviousness at this point.
"Bruh, Y/N literally lets you call her 'love' without punching you in the dick," Niall pointed out bluntly one night when Harry claimed, once again, he and Y/N were "just friends." His Irish buddy arched a skeptical eyebrow. "Pretty sure she wants to ride your lancer if you know what I mean."
Harry smacked him hard while trying not to get flustered. "Shut the fuck up, asshole."
While on Y/N's end...
"Sooooo, when are you gonna admit you have a huge crush on Styles?" Her friend Riley asked point blank over brunch, making Y/N nearly choke on her mimosa.
"What? No I don't!" She insisted a little too quickly, refusing to meet Riley's all-knowing gaze. "We're just...really good friends."
Riley hummed disbelievingly. "Right. And I'm the Queen of England."
Y/N opened her mouth to protest further before clamping it shut as her mind started helplessly rehashing all her favourite little moments with Harry over the past few weeks. His warm, anthracite eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed at her jokes. The proud grin he'd get whenever she successfully understood something he'd tried explaining. The way she felt this inexplicable magnetic pull to stay pressed into his side for as long as possible whenever they hung out...
"Oh my god," she breathed out, smile slipping as the enormity of her revelation dawned. "I'm in love with Harry fucking Styles."
That's not to say the smitten epiphany immediately changed anything between the two. Well, maybe it made their lingering hugs and casual touches go on for a few beats too long. Or had them both shyly stealing glances when the other's back was turned.
***
Mostly though, they just continued their cozy, obliviously pining routine of late night FaceTimes and weekends holed up studying together for finals. All while Harry's team prepared for their annual football rivalry game - the biggest matchup of the season that would make or break their championship chances.
The night before the game, Y/N found herself inexplicably anxious as she sat in the stands amid a drunk, raucous crowd. Harry kept shooting cheesy grins and double finger-gunged winks her way whenever he trotted past her section, clearly buzzed on adrenaline.
"Go get 'em, superstar!" She shouted at one point, laughing as Harry blew her an obnoxious kiss before getting back in the huddle.
The energy in the stadium was electric and infectious, Y/N finding herself caught up in the cheers and chants despite not being a huge football fan normally. Something about watching her...Harry out there gave her swirling butterflies low in her belly though.
As the intense game raged on, Y/N was on the edge of her seat, nails digging into her palms whenever Harry took a brutal hit or made a heart-stoppingly risky play. At one point he got absolutely leveled by a linebacker twice his size, his helmet bouncing sickeningly off the turf.The roar of the crowd faded into the background as Y/N watched in horror as Harry's body slammed violently into the turf. She felt her heart stop as he didn't immediately get back up after the brutal hit.
"Harry!" she screamed, her voice drowned out by the gasps of the other spectators. 
The medical team rushed out onto the field as Harry lay unmoving. Y/N's hands shook with fear as she watched them carefully roll him onto a backboard and load him into the ambulance. She felt tears streaking down her cheeks as the ambulance pulled away, sirens blaring.
After what felt like an eternity, she finally received word that Harry was going to be okay. The doctors said he had suffered a severe concussion and possible spinal injury from the whiplash of the hit. He would need weeks of rest and recovery.
Y/N rushed to the hospital, desperate to see him. When she entered his room, her heart broke at the sight of Harry's battered body hooked up to various machines, a cervical collar immobilizing his neck.
"Harry..." she whispered, taking his hand gently in hers. "I'm so sorry."
Harry's eyes fluttered open at the sound of her voice. "Y/N? You're here..."
"Of course I'm here, you idiot," she tried to joke, blinking back more tears. "I was so worried about you."
A small smile tugged at his bruised lips. "I'll be okay, love. Harry is a thick skull, remember?"
Y/N rolled her eyes but couldn't help grinning at his terrible joke. "Don't scare me like that again, Styles. I don't know what I'd do without you."
A look of tenderness crossed Harry's face that made Y/N's breath catch in her throat. But before either could say anything further, the doctor entered to check on Harry's condition.
***
Over the next week, Y/N diligently stayed by Harry's side in the hospital. She helped feed him, kept him company, and supported him through the difficult early recovery stages. Harry quickly grew restless being cooped up, but every time he tried to get out of bed against doctor's orders, Y/N was there to scold him.
"You heard what the doctor said, Harry. You need to rest and let your body heal properly," she chastised him one day as he tried to get up.
Harry groaned in frustration. "But I'm going stir crazy in this damn bed! I feel fine, Y/N, honestly."
"No, you don't," Y/N said firmly. "You could have had a serious spinal injury. You're lucky it wasn't worse. Now lie back down before I get the nurses to strap you in."
Grumbling, Harry reluctantly complied, though he continued to hate being so confined and immobile. Little did Y/N know, he was already hatching a plan.
A few days later, Y/N arrived at the hospital only to find Harry's bed empty. Her heart leapt into her throat as she rushed to the nurses' station in a panic.
"Where is he? Where's Harry Styles?" she demanded.
The nurse gave her an apologetic look. "I'm sorry, he checked himself out against medical advice earlier today."
"What? No, he can't have!" Y/N cried. She knew immediately where he would have gone.
Sure enough, when she ran across campus to the football practice field, she found Harry standing on the sidelines in his gear, acting as if nothing had happened. White hot fury blazed through her veins.
"Harry!" she yelled, storming toward him as the first raindrops began to fall. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"
Harry turned with a cocky grin as he saw her approach. "There's my favourite nerd. What's got your panties in a twist, love?"
"You insufferable asshole!" Y/N exploded, not caring that they had an audience of his confused teammates. "The doctor said you needed weeks of rest and recovery! You could have permanently injured your spine!"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Relax, babe, I feel great. Probably just overreacted with that whole backboard and neck brace nonsense."
"Are you kidding me right now?" Y/N seethed, hands balling into fists at her sides. Rain began pouring down around them, quickly soaking them both, but she didn't care. "You're incredible, you know that? You have zero self-preservation! No regard for your own safety and well-being!"
"That's a bit dramatic, don't you think?" Harry scoffed, though his casual demeanor faltered slightly under her furious glare.
"Dramatic? You could've been paralyzed, Harry! Doesn't that mean anything to you?" Her voice broke with frustrated tears. "Don't you understand how terrified I was watching you lying there, not moving? I thought...I thought I might lose you."
Something flickered across Harry's features then. His cavalier mask slipped for just a moment, allowing a flash of guilt and tenderness to shine through that sent Y/N's heart lurching treacherously. Then it was gone, the wall snapping back into place.
"Well, I'm right as rain now, so you can quit your worrying," he said gruffly, turning his back on her.
That was the final straw for Y/N. She grabbed his arm and whirled him around to face her, not caring that they were getting drenched by the downpour.
"You're so fucking reckless with yourself, Harry! Like you have zero self-preservation or even an ounce of common sense! Do you have any idea how scary that was to see you lying there, not moving? How I thought..." Her voice hitched, throat growing too tight to continue as burning tears pricked the corners of her eyes.
Through the rapidly blurring vision, Y/N registered Harry staring, chest heaving like she'd actually winded him with her outburst. His hands hung frozen at his sides, knuckles going white as he watched her come completely unraveled. And still she wasn't finished.
"You can't just keep putting yourself in danger like that! Pulling stupid fucking stunts and flipping off your own safety like it doesn't matter! Because it does, Harry. It matters so much to...to me," she finished in a thick whisper, finally allowing a tear to escape and streak down her flushed cheek.  
A weighted silence stretched between them, Y/N struggling to regain her ragged breathing as Harry continued gaping at her, utterly shocked by her reaction. Waves of tension rippled through the small space separating them.
Finally, after what felt like an eternity but was probably only seconds, Harry seemed to recalibrate. His expression went utterly blank for a beat before, out of nowhere, his eyes hardened into flashing jade. When he spoke, his tone was laced with a chilling detachment.  
"Why?"
Y/N blinked owlishly. "W-What?"
"Why the fuck do you care so much, huh?" Harry exploded, eyes flashing as he aimed his scathing hostility directly at Y/N. "Last I checked, I'm not your boyfriend or your family. I'm just some dumb jock you study with, right?"
Y/N flinched at the biting sarcasm, feeling tears prick her eyes anew at his harsh dismissal. But Harry was on a roll, fists clenching and unclenching as he visibly wrestled with...what? Anger? Fear? She couldn't tell, but his next words sliced deep regardless.
"So why do you get to flip out and pass judgment every time I take a hit, huh? You think I don't know how to handle myself out on that field?"
"That's not what I-"
"No, clearly you don't think I have any sense of self-preservation or whatever psychobabble bullshit diagnosis you want to armchair next!" Harry barreled over her attempted protest, voice rising in a sharp crescendo. 
He took a menacing step closer, using his full height to loom over her in a move that likely would've been intimidating...if his eyes didn't look so pained and conflicted behind that mask of bitter anger. "Tell me, Y/N - what gives you the right to freak out like that, huh? To look at me with those scared eyes like you have any claim over whether I live or die or-"
"Because I love you, dammit!" The confession exploded from Y/N with the force of a meteor strike.
A stunned silence fell over the field as Harry gaped at her, mouth hanging open in shock. Even the rain seemed to pause in the heavy tension between them.
After several moments where Y/N felt her panic rising, Harry finally found his voice again. "You...you what?"
Y/N took a shuddering breath, bracing herself. She had come too far to back down now.  
"I love you, Harry," she repeated, slower and more sure this time. "I have for a long time, you idiot. But you're always so reckless and careless 'bout your own safety. You take stupid risks and shrug it off like getting hurt is no big deal!"
She stepped closer, feeling tears mingling with the raindrops on her cheeks. "Don't you understand? The thought of you being seriously injured, or worse...it terrifies me. Because I couldn't handle losing you. You mean everything to me."
Harry continued staring at her, eyes blown wide and lips parted as if her confession had utterly short-circuited his brain. Y/N pressed on, needing to finally unleash all the feelings she had kept bottled up for far too long.
"I love your stupid jokes and your kind heart. I love how passionate you are about football, even if it drives me mental sometimes. I love the way you always smell like sandalwood and make me feel so safe when I'm with you. I'm in love with every obnoxious, laddish, reckless part of you and I can't keep ignoring it anymore."
She let out a wet chuckle, wiping futilely at her drenched face, her hands still shaking. "So yeah, that's why I care, you absolute wanker. That's why seeing you get hurt destroys me every single time, because the thought of being in a world without Harry Styles in it is just too much for me to bear!"
The words hung heavy in the rain-soaked air between them. Y/N watched Harry open and close his mouth a few times, clearly struggling to find a response. For once, his swagger and cockiness had completely deserted him as her feelings poured over him in an unstoppable tide.
Just when the silence was becoming too much for Y/N to bear, Harry finally seemed to find his voice again.
"You...you love me?" he rasped out, the disbelief and wonder evident in his tone. "Like, you're in love with me?"
Y/N felt her cheeks flush hot despite the cold rain. She gave a small nod, unable to meet his intense gaze. Her heart was thundering so loudly in her ears, she barely registered the shouts and hoots coming from Harry's teammates who had witnessed the whole emotional outburst.
"Shut it, you wankers!" Harry barked over his shoulder, never taking his eyes off Y/N.
In two long strides, he closed the distance between them until they were mere inches apart. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as Harry reached up with one hand to gently cup her jaw, tilting her face up toward his.
"Y/N..." he murmured, emerald eyes searching hers intently. "Why didn't you ever say anything?"
She let out a shaky laugh, leaning into his touch despite herself. "And ruin our friendship if you didn't feel the same way? I couldn't risk that, Harry. You mean too much to me."
Something blazing and tender flickered across Harry's face at her confession. Slowly, giving her every chance to pull away, he leaned in until their foreheads were resting together. Y/N shivered at the intimate proximity, at the way his familiar woodsy scent surrounded her completely.
"You daft woman," he murmured, the words fanning warmly across her lips and making her shiver for an entirely different reason. "Don't you know there's nothing I want more than for you to be my girlfriend? To be able to love you the way you deserve?"
Y/N's eyes fluttered closed at that, her heart feeling fit to burst from her chest. She had spent so long forcing herself not to hope, not to read into the heated glances and lingering touches she shared with Harry. Could he truly feel the same earth-shattering connection she did?
Her eyes blinked open again at the feeling of Harry's calloused thumb brushing reverently across her rain-soaked cheek. He was staring at her with such naked adoration and longing that it stole the breath from her lungs.
"I'm so bloody gone for you, Y/N," he confessed roughly. "Have been for ages now, if I'm being honest. Thought maybe I was imagining things between us or reading too much into it since I couldn't fathom someone as incredible as you wanting a mug like me."
Y/N opened her mouth to protest, to reassure him that she wanted every infuriatingly charming part of him, but Harry pressed on before she could get the words out.
"Then today, hearing how scared you were when I got laid out...how you thought you could lose me?" He shook his head slowly, curls dripping rivulets of rainwater down the sharp planes of his face and throat. "Don't know how I didn't see it before, love. The way you care about me, put up with all my shite...it's because you love me. Isn't it?"
It wasn't really a question, more like Harry was testing the words out for the first time and savoring the way they sounded. A thrill went through Y/N at getting to be the one to put that Look of rare, hushed awe on his handsome face for once.
"Yes, Harry," she answered anyway, both hands coming up to cradle his beloved face. "I'm desperately in love with you. The good, the bad, the reckless...all of it."
A crinkly-eyed grin stretched across Harry's lips then, brighter and more vibrant than Y/N had ever seen before. He wasted no more time closing that minuscule distance between them, capturing her mouth in a searing, all-consuming kiss.
Y/N gasped against his lips as the dam finally broke, months of too-long denied want and need bubbling over in heated waves. Harry's hands slid into her soaked hair, angling her head to deepen the embrace as he licked hungrily into her mouth. Y/N clung to him just as fiercely, fingernails scraping against his scalp and shoulders as if trying to physically pull him closer.
They were both panting harshly by the time they wrenched apart, sharing the same air in the infinitesimal space between their swollen mouths. Y/N felt drugged by the glazed, predatory darkness swimming in Harry's blown pupils,by the intimate glide of their rain-drenched bodies.
"Fucking finally," he growled against her lips before diving back in, one large hand splaying possessively across the small of her back.
Y/N hummed in ardent agreement, getting lost in his dizzying taste and scent and touch once more.  It felt like a cosmic star had been reborn between them, the force of their crashing inevitability obliterating all the hurt and confusion from before.
Neither was sure how long they stayed like that, trading desperate, drugging kisses amongst the pouring rain. But eventually, Harry pulled away just enough to nose his way along Y/N's jaw, lips dragging hotly up to her ear.
"Let's get out of this downpour, hmm?" he husked, teeth grazing her shell and making her shudder. "Got some making up to do for being such a blind tosser."
Y/N pulled back just enough to catch the incandescent fire blazing in his darkened gaze. Her breath hitched at the onceiled promise flickering there, at the tips of his wicked fingers already slipping beneath the drenched hem of her top.
It seemed she wasn't the only one who had been harboring some pent-up longing and hunger.
Still, there was one loose end she couldn't resist tugging before allowing Harry to whisk them away...  "Does this mean you're finally going to start taking better care of yourself?" she asked archly, arching one pointed brow. "No more stupid, reckless stunts for my idiotically brave footballer?"
Harry audibly groaned, dropping his forehead dramatically against her clavicle as his hands flexed with bruising force against her hips.
"Whatever you want, love," he conceded gruffly. "No more injuries or shite, I swear it. Now can we please get the fuck out of here before I embarrass myself further by ravishing you in the mud right in front of my teammates?"
Y/N gave a squeak of surprise as Harry abruptly ducked to gather her up in his arms, hitching her legs around his waist in one fluid movement. He sealed his wicked promise with another lingering, molten kiss that left her head spinning.
"Now, where were we..." he growled darkly before striding determinedly off the field, Y/N clinging just as fiercely in his embrace.
The teammates' raucous catcalls and laughter faded into the rainy background as Y/N tucked her face into the curve of Harry's neck, savoring his familiar sandalwood and smoke and the feeling of being wrapped in his arms at last.
She was never letting him go again. Not if she had any say in it.
♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡~~~♡
tell me if you like this! please reblog or comment if you like, it makes my heart happy :)
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Dido - Thank You 1998
"Thank You" is a song written and performed by English singer-songwriter Dido. The song made its first appearance in 1998 on the soundtrack of the movie Sliding Doors (as did poll #28). It was later included on Dido's 1999 debut album No Angel, and was released as a single in September 2000. The same year, American rapper Eminem sampled the track for his hit single "Stan", which helped propel "Thank You" and No Angel to mainstream success.
Following the success of "Stan" in Australia and the UK, where it hit number one, No Angel was finally distributed in other markets outside North America in late 2000. No Angel rose to the top of the Australian albums chart on its sixth week, dethroning The Marshall Mathers LP by Eminem. By 2003, No Angel had sold more than 15 million copies worldwide, and was the second best-selling album of the 2000s in the UK. As of 2015, No Angel was the 27th best-selling album in UK chart history. In 2019 it was listed the ninth best-selling album of the 21st century in the UK. It was also among ten albums nominated for the best British album of the previous 30 years by the Brit Awards in 2010, ultimately losing to (What's the Story) Morning Glory? by Oasis.
"Thank You" peaked at number three on the Billboard Hot 100, and held that spot for three weeks, and became Dido's first and only top-10 single in the US. It was one of the biggest sleeper hits of the year, debuting in January and remaining on the chart until the end of September. It spent 40 weeks on the chart, and in November Billboard published that "Thank You" finished as the seventh biggest song of the year. Additionally, the song reached number one on the Billboard Adult Contemporary, Adult Top 40, and Dance Club Play charts. In the UK, "Thank You" reached number three, becoming the singer's third top-five single in the UK.
The song was produced by Dido and her brother Rollo, from the band Faithless (poll #109).
"Thank You" received a total of 85,5% yes votes!
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kartoshinki · 2 years
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guess who had to dish out their first kinda proper tongue lashing as manager bc cut toenails were found right where we spend most of our time at work (: (: (: (: (:
#the oracle hath spoken#i mean who the fuck does that#that's just plain disgusting#i mean really there are only two viable suspects going by the size of that thing and circumstances#that thing looked like it came off a big toe larger than mine so#i'd already consider the girls too civilised for that but two of them are plain too tiny to produce nails that wide#and the other hasn't been in in weeks and also has a normal threshold for disgust and shame#i know it wasn't me and the way the guy who found it reacted it wasn't him either#which leaves us with the two remaining guys who also happen to be what i'd describe as 'least housebroken'#i have my gross uncivilised swamp-goblin habits and moments absolutely#but i mostly limit them to my home and also try my best not to actively spread bio-matter where others will come in contact with it#can't believe i'd ever have to tell half a dozen of ADULT HUMAN BEINGS! to perform their personal hygiene and grooming routine AT HOME#or at least not at OUR SHARED WORKSPACE#well really i only had to tell one of them but honestly? this actually was an opportunity for public pressure and condemnation#my predecesor would wipe her sweat with a paper towel and just put her pit-rag right there. on. the counter. fucking disgusting.#i'm sweaty too i don't judge i have an odd tendency to splatter my blood anywhere#but i keep my rags in my pockets or throw them out right away or at least place them somewhere that's not constantly touched by all of us#ok rant over sorry i just find cut nails rly disgusting and am shocked and appalled and disappointed and DISTURBED about this INCIDENT
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houpss · 1 month
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𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐒𝐊𝐙 𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐮𝐬
aggression, a little angst, vanilla and fluff
Some members will have not only points, but also background. Some won't have it (!)
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𝐁𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧
This man is possessive and quite jealous. Chan is an adult man with formed emotions and convictions, and one of his convictions is that he never shares his own, be it members or his personal belongings.He, of course, knew personal boundaries and understood what was possible and what was not. But when it came to jealousy...
It was the evening of a closed fashion show in France, where SKZ flew and you flew with them. You were also a significant figure in the modeling industry and that is why you were invited to the show. K-pop stars and American industry stars gathered there: singers, directors, models and actors. Absolutely everyone was there. Chan knew that this was a noisy event and that's why Stray Kids fit in perfectly there. There was a fashionable party, an atmosphere of fun filled the halls and Chan liked it, until the moment he saw that you were surrounded by male attention.
This man will literally become overprotective and he will follow you with his eyes unless you are near him.
No, Chan didn't get jealous often. He has 8 members, Chan has a big and generous heart!
Only small children of their parents are jealous when they pay attention to someone other than their child. But Chan, after all, could and knew how to be jealous, he did it.
You felt his cold and patronizing gaze from meters away in the hall, this aura hovered around you.
As soon as you are near him, he will immediately calm down.
He will immediately return to the state of the kind and smiling Chris!
"Awww my Y/N is so beautiful todaay"
"My princess stole the show here."
He's literally very soft.
After such a scene he will be your "bodyguard", when you talk to someone, he is nearby. He quietly check that no one is doing unnecessary things.
When you return to your hotel room, Channie will become very soft and clingy.
"Y/n! Chris is tired and wants your hugs!"
"Chris wants Y/n's soft kisses"
You laugh softly at him and you clearly give him what he asks for.
𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰
Minho wasn't one to get jealous a lot. He was deeply convinced of his and your feelings. Jealousy is too stupid. But this was only the case up to a certain point.
You were also a dancer and for a large-scale show you were given a dance number with your colleague. The dance was quite energetic, sexy and literally amazing. Minho saw your training and didn’t pay much attention to it. You would never cheat on him. You talked about it so much that it made Minho nervous, but he remained silent. He knew it was important to you. There was a show tonight where you performed with your colleague. Minho sat in the hall with Jisung and Jeongin. Some time passed before your number began, it was the middle of the show. Oh, it seems this fellow colleague is too close to you, this was not planned.
Minho's eyes instantly narrowed as he watched this creep touch and dance with you.
The muscles in Minho's face began to flex as he clenched his jaw.
He arches an eyebrow and snorts, he could have done it much better.
By the end of the performance, jealousy consumed him.
He wanted to kill this guy. Minho was cruel.
After the performance, he left Jisung and Jeongin in the hall while he went to your dressing room.
He urgently wanted to see and feel you.
You sat in front of the mirror and took off your makeup.
"That guy allowed himself too much, my dear."
"What are you talking about, Ho?"
"No one dares to touch you the way I touch you."
He leaned towards you and buried his nose in your hair, his hands on your shoulders.
“Next time, I’ll dance with you myself.” He would like to add to his sentence: “I’ll fuck you in front of that guy so that he understands everything himself,” but he remained silent.
Your gentle kiss will even improve the situation somewhat. Minho is your home cat again.
𝐒𝐞𝐨 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐛𝐢𝐧
You and Changbin go to the gym together, he works out his muscles, and you do stretching and yoga. You and Changbin were passionate about sports, it was an integral part of your couple! There were many men and women in the room, Changbin was always a little jealous. He just loves you too much!
But this time it turned out that you were training in different halls of the same sports complex. You worked out in the gym with other women, but Changbin was paranoid that men were staring at you.
This man will not be able to train normally and will only think about you.
He won't be able to continue training until he checks on you.
He will spy on you 🥷
From time to time he will run from gym to gym and watch you do yoga surrounded by other women.
It calmed him down...
After your training, he will hug you tightly and kiss the top of your head.
This man will become very loud and happy in your presence.
"My Y/n is so sweet! Binnie is happy again"
𝐇𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐣𝐢𝐧
Hwang Hyunjin was perfect, such a guy had everything he wanted, but most importantly he had you. He wasn't overly jealous, but "you're mine" and that wasn't discussed. He hated the idea that there was someone else who could touch you the way he touched you and tell you the things he told you.
When he left SKZ on tours or events in another country, he would definitely become overprotective from a distance. He's just afraid that someone will take his place, maybe you can find someone more ideal than him? Expect constant video calls and unobtrusive questions from him, he may be too dramatic or whiny, this is normal. One evening you will be talking via video call, because you stayed in Seoul and Hyunjin in France.
"I saw your posts on Instagram, are you hanging out with someone?? 🥺"
"Yeah,Jinnie, I finally met a friend I haven't seen for a very long time."
"Let him not allow himself too much—"
"ARE YOU JEALOUS?"
Hwang Hyunjin and jealousy? never.
"She was holding your hand too tightly in that photo! This woman allows herself a lot."
"You're literally jealous right now~"
"This is not jealousy, but ordinary boundaries 😡"
"You're very cute when you're jealous, I love you"
He will turn into a puddle after these words.
𝐇𝐚𝐧 𝐉𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠
Han Jisung doesn't know how to be jealous.
He is absolutely confident in both you and himself.
But some trainee from JYP ENTERTAINMENT became interested in you and showed you signs of attention.
At first he didn't pay attention to it.
It didn't bother him because you were always near.
But then he began to notice that you would either smile at this guy or talk to him in the corridors of the company.
He, he'll get worried.
You will notice this.
Jisung will become less cheerful or tender with you, slowly moving away.
You sit him next to you and make him talk.
"Have you found someone better than me?"
"Why do you think that, Hannie?"
He will look at you sadly, now he is not happy and will not joke.
"You spend so much time with that trainee guy...–”
"Oooh...he doesn't know Korean, so he asked me to help him! but between us there is only a working relationship"
will this calm him down?
Not really.
He will reach out for your hug and sigh softly when you hug him back.
"Tell me right away if he bothers you 😡"
"HAN JISUNG–"
𝐋𝐞𝐞 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐱
This boy is very shy and touchy :((
When he is jealous, he will be like a pet...In the sense that he will follow you everywhere and he will look so sad.
He just overheard your talk on the phone and didn't like the content.
"Do not you love me anymore?"
He sniffled, it seemed the boy had been crying for a long time.
He was a flower, and you were his sun.
He will sit next to you on the couch and press against your side. His head is now on your chest and his legs are wrapped around yours, he's like a koala.
He's just afraid that you'll leave.
"Why do you think that, freckle?"
You haven’t really changed into your home clothes, because you just came from the street.
You stroke Felix's blond hair, looking at his tear-stained face.
"You...you...went somewhere, before that I heard your telephone talk...sorry"
He literally wouldn't be able to speak properly because the tears were choking his throat again.
He will cry and bury his nose in your chest. Please don't leave him.
"Baby, I was at a meeting of directors, I was urgently called there"
You chuckle quietly and tuck his hair behind his ear.
He is your gentle angel.
"Really...?you won't leave me?" his eyes brightened as he sniffled and looked at you.
You nod affirmatively and kiss his forehead.
He will cry even more because he will be ashamed...
𝐊𝐢𝐦 𝐒𝐞𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐦𝐢𝐧
Seungmin wasn't someone who got jealous a lot or often, he didn't care about that. But he reacts quite brightly when Someone allows himself too much towards you.
He would be angry and not understand alone, he would come up with a lot for himself and would be even more offended by you. He would pull away and give you freedom. Moreover, you can not communicate like this for several days, that suits him.
It really made you nervous that Seungmin could leave so easily and then come back as if nothing had happened, he never explained the reasons. The boy did as he saw fit. You may be able to catch him and get him to talk, he will be quite rude, but eventually he will break down and quietly admit that he feels insecure because of your actions. You felt so offended because Seungmo didn’t tell you right away, but only confessed now. Now you will agree to immediately talk about your jealousy and fears every time. Seungmin will really try his best for you.
𝐘𝐚𝐧𝐠 𝐉𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐠𝐢𝐧
Maknae is also quite jealous, due to the fact that his hyungs are loving guys, this extends to you, but Jeongin doesn’t like it. You spend time with boys a lot, which can cause Jeongin to get nervous and say something like "Hey! Don't touch her", then SKZ will turn their attention from you to Ninnie.
In general, you and Jeongin are like two big children for SKZ, even if you are older than Jeongin. You are a sociable, bright and talkative person, people are drawn to you. Jeongin notices this and tries to tone it down a bit, he wants all your attention. He just gets a little angry when there is increased attention to you and tries to immediately concentrate your attention on himself!
"Why Hyungs coming at you like that..."
"They just love me too much~"
"THEY CAN'T LOVE YOU THE WAY I LOVE YOU"
The maknae is furious, you are his only one.
You immediately start laughing and kiss him on both cheeks, making him squint like a fox.
No one will want to offend this beautiful little fox.
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arguablysomaya · 5 months
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Nightwing's weird fem-coding
! LONG POST !
Finally got around to jotting down my thoughts on the weird way that Dick Grayson (Nightwing) often occupies female-coded roles without being a particularly feminine guy. This is entirely due to me procrastinating on my finals. Okay!
Dick has often been cited as the hero who plays into the "female gaze", and he takes up some key roles that are typically reserved for women characters.
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A large portion of Dick's fem-coding is contingent on his being with his family, and when he's not with them, this fem-coding kinda drops away, such as when he's with his various teams or acting solo.
His most prominent (and imo, complex) femme-coded role is:
-> Eldest Daughter + Widow
Eldest daughter syndrome means " frequently feeling like you’re not doing enough, like you’re struggling to maintain a veneer of control, like the entire household relies on your diligence." It's born out of the unique way that first-born girls are expected to take on adult roles around the household before they've had an opportunity to fully experience childhood (an opportunity their younger siblings will have, in part due to this sacrifice). It creates a strong sense of independence and a desire to be a good role model, but also leads to undue pressure and perfectionism.
Dick acts as a central emotional pillar for those in his family. To the point that when he fakes his death, it breaks something fundamental in the family dynamic:
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Not only is it repeatedly made clear that Bruce depends on Dick to act as a lifeline for his own mental struggles, but moreover, his siblings do as well. In a very literal sense, the maintenance of the batfamily rests on Dick's shoulders. Bruce is so rarely available for emotional support that these children turn to the next best thing, which, to be fair, is better than what Dick had growing up. He has to clean up so many breakdowns, it's honestly pretty staggering.
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As the OG sidekick, Dick receives quite a bit of hero worship, particularly from younger heroes/sidekicks, who look toward him for guidance. As a naturally upbeat and welcoming person, Dick ends up in the position of bringing light to everyone, not just Bruce. For example, here's Cassandra:
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This balancing effect is unique to Dick's skill set. However, this can (and does) backfire very easily. The same pragmatism Bruce engages in hurts extra bad when coming from Dick: like when Dick had to take Robin away from Tim. Not to mention just how intimidating Dick's legacy is, which can create resentment when his successors aren't able to play this role so easily. For example, Jason both before and after his death expressed insecurity that he felt he was constantly being compared to Dick, and falling short.
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As the original character that people think of when they think "sidekick", DG Robin (and his successors) had the advantage of not losing prominence even as his contemporaries (Kid Flash, Aqualad, Wonder Girl, etc.) were de-prioritized in favor of independent teenaged heroes (like Cyborg, Beast Boy, Raven, and Starfire). But that means Robin as a concept now has to deal with questions that weren't so prominent in the earlier decades, such as: "How do we justify a grown-ass man using a child (and in fact, children) as emotional crutches?"
It's icky to think about, but there's no denying that early Batman and Robin got side eyes for homosexual subtext. I mean, they literally call each other "partners". So while that "subtext" was, and remains, just audience speculation, given Dick is literally Bruce's adopted son, there is room, I believe, to call into question how healthy it is for Bruce's oldest kid to be taking on a nearly-parental role and be a core pillar of Bruce's emotional regulation.
Hot take here, but I think Dick's relationship with Bruce was/has been pretty emotionally incestuous for a long time.
-> Emotional incest
"Emotional incest[...] is a type of emotional abuse performed by a parent. In cases of emotional incest, parents rely on their children for significant emotional support, which is a reversal of roles. Emotional incest is more than just relying on your kids on occasion—rather, it is an extreme dependence on them." (There's a pretty good argument to be made that Bruce has been emotionally incestuous with all his Robins, especially Dick and DEFINITELY Tim, but y'know. Small steps.)
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Emotional incest is a semi-common consequence of eldest daughter syndrome; the natural conclusion of deputizing a child to manage the other children combining with an inability to see the child as a child, still in need of emotional guidance, but more like an adult capable of shouldering the burdens of grown-ups dumping their traumas on them.
To be clear here, while emotional incest may not be incest in the most traditional, taboo sense, it is still abuse. It's putting a burden on a child they shouldn't have to carry, even for children that aren't dealing with such extreme burdens as "grown-ass man running around in a fursuit needs me to keep him from getting himself killed". It's a perversion of a healthy parent-child relationship, where the child is treated more like a partner than a child. In Dick's case, it further exacerbates the parentification he already experiences. This is made more explicit when Bruce "dies" and Dick is cast into a sort of "Widow" role.
Dick reluctantly dons the cowl in an attempt to bring order to his family members. He's also left to parent Damian, alone. He has to make the decision to take Robin from Tim, and try to deal with the fallout from that decision. He has to put a stop to Jason's fratricidal rampage. He's made into the de-facto head of the family.
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And the thing about this is: Dick's not even bad at it. In comparison to Bruce's litany of disasters-in-parenting, Dick does a pretty bang-up job of managing his siblings, heading the Justice League, and being Batman. But the crucial point is that he does this at the expense of his own mental health, which is the crux of eldest daughter syndrome. There's no denying that at the time, Dick was most certainly the best choice for New Father Figure, but it was a choice he was pushed into, and a sacrifice he had to make. When this sense of responsibility to the point of self-sacrifice is pushed to its logical conclusion, it has the effect of making Dick a Martyr-type figure.
-> Protector/Mama Bear/Avenger
Dick has shown repeatedly that his hot button is his family. From Tony Zucco to allowing Blockbuster to be killed after the villain targeted Haley's Circus, going after Nightwing's family is a pretty good way to earn yourself an asskicking. Probably the most infamous example of this is when Dick thought the Joker had killed Tim, beating the clown to death to avenge both Tim and Jason.
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And while this role isn't particularly feminine, I do think it's interesting that Dick protects his family members from each other with almost the same frequency that he protects them from outside threats. He's pretty notorious for wrangling Damian and Tim, foiling Jason's murder plans, and most importantly, beating the shit out of Bruce whenever he crosses a line, such as when Bruce asks Dick to conceal being alive from their family to join Spyral or when Bruce wanted to abandon the Bruce Wayne persona after the murder of Vesper Fairchild. Or of course, more recently after Bruce's latest MK-ULTRA shenanigans.
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This basically puts Dick in the position of being the glue that holds the family together, at basically all times, but especially in times of conflict. This also means he's put in the dangerous position of bodily defending his younger siblings from Bruce's wrath or irresponsibility, a position made even more awkward given the whole emotional incest thing.
That's not to say that Dick's relationship with his family is 100% unhealthy. Dick and his family members (including Bruce!) feel legitimate affection and care for each other. There are times when the dynamics here are indeed healthy. And like most people with eldest daughter syndrome, the unhealthy nature of this dynamic is usually understated. Oldest sibling syndrome is often just an unavoidable consequence of how parenting works. So while I am of the opinion that this dynamic is often unhealthy, hot take: I'm fine with that.
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Now, though I've just listed some tropes that he only falls into around family, Dick also falls into some fem-coding all the time, regardless of who he's with, and these have to do mostly with his sexuality.
-> Sexual Assault & Harassment
Yeah, so nobody is surprised that this is a factor. Look up any list of the top ten hottest/sexiest/most attractive male superheroes, I guarantee 9/10 times Nightwing is number 1. However, unlike his father, whose attractiveness is usually played as a part of the male wish-fulfillment fantasy, something people aspire to be, Dick's attractiveness more often makes him an object of desire- very similar to how most attractive female characters are perceived.
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And as an object of desire, Dick Grayson is constantly having to deal with being objectified.
Now, Dick Grayson being an attractive character is not the problem. Dick Grayson being sexually assaulted isn't even the problem. the problem is that he keeps being harassed, assaulted, and raped in ways that are flagrantly nonconsensual, and yet it's not treated with the seriousness it deserves. In fact, it took a full decade for Devin Grayson to retract her previous statement and admit that yes, the rooftop scene with Catalina Flores was in fact rape, and it's never been acknowledged in-universe (though, comics have always been atrocious at calling out sexual abuse of all kinds, let alone that which targets men).
Hell, even when he in-universe calls it out, he's dismissed immediately and the story continues like nothing happened.
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Like???
Dick's adult sexcapades (which were consensual and enthusiastic) have long contrasted with the numerous times he's been harassed; times in which he comes across as bored, exasperated, and even frustrated with his own attractiveness and the vulnerable position it often leaves him in.
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This puts him in the rare (in comics) position of being a male character who consistently and near-exclusively has his sexual agency and boundaries violated by women - a position that authors uniformly refuse to examine despite writing him into it all the fucking time.
Other characters around him frequently make comments passing off this harassment and assault as a natural consequence of Dick's own attractiveness, making "jokes" that essentially amount to "I understand why someone would want to assault him". Which- UH?
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There is also, of course, the unavoidable reality that as an acrobat and an aerialist, he receives a very specific type of sexual harassment
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the nature of nightwing's fight style necessitates a type of tight-fitting suit that male heroes typically don't go for: an extremely slick suit with bare-minimum armour that again, makes him vulnerable in a way most male heroes aren't, but a style female heroes wear all the time, whether it makes sense for them or not. This of course then allows artists to draw attention to this fact by posing Nightwing in poses usually reserved for femme fatales:
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And unlike the Hawkeye Initiative, these poses are (largely) unironic, and not played for jokes. Dick isn't arching his back or looking over his shoulder to poke fun at how female heroes are treated; he does so because the artist (clearly correctly) sincerely believed these poses would play into the unironic gaze of the audience, and also probably thought it was hot. It's the same line of thought artists use when posing femme fatales.
He's even been known to use his sexuality as a bargaining chip, much like more traditional Femme Fatales. In Batman and Harley Quinn (2017), he refers to sleeping with Harley Quinn after being kidnapped by her as one of "the things I do for Gotham", to which she responds "I'm taking that as a 'yes'." And that's uh- not how consent works.
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And this particularly sucks because- HELLO? The opportunity to explore the very real and tragically underacknowledged phenomenon of sexual violence against men is literally invaluable, especially with such a prominent character. It's one thing to ignore that men face sexual violence, it's another, entirely more unforgivable thing to continuously and explicitly depict such scenarios and play them off as jokes or not as serious as they clearly are. But what did I expect from an industry that has never had a good track record on sexual violence anyway.
-> Queercoding?
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There's also of course the fact that DC has been, as of late, dropping hints that Dick might be bisexual.
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That on it's own doesn't mean anything, but when paired with the fact that DC has been angling toward giving Dick a similar playboy persona that Bruce has, just with men included, it's just very interesting.
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(BTW: The likelihood DC actually commits to making Dick bi is, uh, not a lot, but if they're gonna stick with this weird closet stuff for a while, let's hope they do so in a way that doesn't make him sound like a cross between Donald Trump and Harry Styles next time? Please?)
Anyway, all of this is basically to say I am forever fascinated by the gender dynamics of Dick Grayson, likely due to the fact that I'm projecting all my eldest daughter traumas onto him, and that someone who's background is in Gender Studies needs to get on this shit if they haven't already. I just love this character sm.
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fxtalitygod · 3 months
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Survival. IX
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Summary: You were determined to survive longer than anyone, even if you were set to marry him.
Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage
Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, body horror, swearing/language, suggestive, mentions of suicide, arguments, mentions of adult murder, Pet name (Little Flower 1-2x) implied Stockholm Syndrome, grief imagery, images/depictions of dead bodies, child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint)
Word Count: 3.4k
JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX • Pt. X • Epilogue
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You remembered the most content morning you had ever had. It was a relatively beautiful and tranquil day in the garden. The sky was clear, and the sun was beaming brightly, yet the weather was pleasant. It was the most satisfying day you had ever had within the temple.
It was also the day your twins spoke their first word.
You had been spending quality time with your twins, your attendant joining the activities as you both basked in their childish nature. She had grown as close as family and acted like an aunt to your kids, and if you were being honest, she felt like a sister to you in some sense. You truly appreciated her company and assistance throughout the time you had known her— especially when sharing this memorable moment.
It felt like it was out of a dream when the word effortlessly slipped from your daughter’s mouth. Moments ago, she was a child who only knew how to babble, laugh, and cry, but now she was a little girl capable of speaking. And if your daughter hadn’t surprised you enough, your son letting the same word slip next had left you paralyzed with shock.
“Mama.”
Yes, it was a standard word for a child to speak first other than Dada or Papa— a cliché, as most would say, but that was the last thing on your mind. To hear your child acknowledge you for the first time and know they recognize you as their mother was a pleasure that could not compare to the joys of sex, alcohol, or money– it is a pleasantry of its own. You swore you would do anything to hear them call you their "Mama" for as long as possible.
And if anyone took that away from you, they would be damned to hell.
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The screams of a woman echoed through the temple. The shrieks were ear-splitting and could cause anybody's ears to bleed upon walking into the hearing radius. You could only listen as the screams continued, the sound muffling out as your ears began to ring again.
Why was she screaming? The woman in question should have been thrilled that your children were deceased– they would have been a threat to her. She was probably trying to win Sukuna's favor in some fucked up way. The bitch had no right to grieve in your presence nor in solitude. You had every want to strangle her soundless; however, something stopped you from that impulse.
Your throat began to burn.
At that moment, you realized the screams of grief and agony were those of your own. Nobody was present in that room, just you and Sukuna, as your cries echoed in the room and nearby halls. You were blinded by your own tears as you stared at the now-blurry image of your twin's hanging corpses, choking on your own sobs as you collapsed to the ground, holding your midriff with the painful thought that the life you had cultivated within you for nine months and raised for six years was now reduced to carcasses hanging from a wall.
Your blessings had been snatched from you, from right under your nose.
You should have known things would have not been so simple. You should have never let your guard down for even a second. This was your punishment for being so blissfully ignorant when you should have analyzed all the possible faults in your plan and anticipated any threats that remained to perform a clean escape.
You stood on weak legs, shuffling to the wall that was covered in blood. In your mind, you always thought that the blankness of those walls would drive you mad– you never anticipated that the splash of color would be the thing that forced you to insanity. The crimson dripping down the wall proved you wrong.
Your hands shook as your fingers hovered over the pins that were holding your children in place, flinching back as you swallowed the bile rising up your throat before reaching for one of the pins again. You made an attempt to hold back your sobs but with little success. Huffs, spittles, and gurgles continued to resonate from you as you held back your cries– you looked pathetic.
Your hands felt weak as you pulled the pin, the audible squelching sound of the flesh rubbing against the item sickening you to the core, yet you persisted. You pulled the lower pins that you could reach from your son and daughter, tears gushing out of your eyes as you did so. No torture was as great as this, especially when you went to reach the higher ones. You stood on your toes, stretching for the pins that were sunk into your twin's hands, but it was futile. Under normal circumstances, you could have reached that high; you would have improvised a way to do it, but your mind was numb, and your body felt weak.
"Help me," you choked as you continued to reach.
The only response you got was silence.
"Please," you weakly whispered, "Please, help me."
Silence lingered again, but before you could plea a second time– your husband spoke.
"Why?"
You paused in your movement, your breath hitching as the simple word echoed in your head.
"Why?" you repeated, bewilderment found in your whisper, "Why?"
Your head slowly turned to look over your shoulder, your eyes gleaming with fury as you looked at Sukuna.
"I'll tell you why," you seethed, "For eight years, I have lived in this temple with you and your sickened whores and bastards– lived in your residence with little to no complaint. I have endured everything bestowed upon me and have managed to keep my spine straight with my head held high– and when in your presence, I have given you nothing but the lowest bows of respect despite the falsities of that action; I sacrificed my pride!" you paused to breathe before continuing, "I bore you children and dealt the blunt trauma of my impossible pregnancy and labor without complaint or ask of favor because you and I both know I would have gladly died in the process. In my life here, I have asked you for ONE SINGULAR FAVOR that would benefit both of us!"
Another pause as you caught your breath.
"The very least you could do," your voice shook with exasperation, "is grant me this one selfish wish."
"Do you understand the line you are crossing, Little Flower," Sukuna threatened as he took a few steps forward.
"Well aware," you answered without hesitation, "but at least if you killed me now, I would reunite with my children and be rid of you," you grinned mockingly at your partner.
You watched as the menacing man raised a hand, keeping eye contact with you as he did so. Normally you would have feared that this was the end of the line, but that was before your worst nightmare had already came true. Some part of you wished that he would hit you, hoping that once he did, he would snap you out of what you hoped what was an illusion of some sort, a night terror, a cursed technique, possibly a hallucination— all three were very much possibilities, but deep down you knew you were in denial, however, you did not want to accept it.
The slap never came.
Instead, your companion reached his arm above you, removing the pins that held your twins hostage against the wall. Sukuna took his time, clearly in no rush, leaving you antsy as you began to wriggle in impatience. You just wanted to hold them and look upon their innocent face. Maybe they were not dead, maybe there was still a breath of life in them, and you could somehow convince your husband to use his curse reversal technique on them due to the terms of your contract.
Maybe, just maybe…
Once the last pins restraining your children were removed, you were quick to cradle your twins, holding them close to your chest as more sobs escaped from your quivering lips. Your fingers lightly touched their skin as you caressed their faces with motherly gentleness. After moments, your cries subsided into a quiet lament as you continued to hold your little boy and girl.
You would have done anything to prevent this fate.
"Mama..." a voice spoke, but excessively strained and quiet.
You jumped up to see your little boy's eyes open no more than a slit. Without hesitation, you rushed to grab his face, babbling words of encouragement for him to stay awake. You were eager as you prepared to attempt to perform reverse cursed technique, but before you could, another strained voice sounded.
"Ma-Mama."
You panicked once more, moving to face your daughter as her condition was nearly the same. You were torn on what to do and had almost turned to Sukuna for his assistance, but it was useless. As quickly as those words were spoken were as fast as they faded back into eternal sleep.
What was this? You had to ask again, but what had you done to deserve this? To be worthy of this torture? Was there not a more deserving candidate for this cruelty you were enduring? Had you just been born to be cursed like this?
Questions raveled your mind, and thoughts ate at you alive– you were beginning to spiral. Your voice, along with many of the other voices from your past, flooded your head, screaming at you all at once as the memories began to invade your consciousness. Your head was starting to hurt from lingering in your mind, far away from reality. If anyone were to look upon your form, you would seem like the hollow husk of a woman based on how you sat there unmoving and totally silent as you stared blankly at the bloody wall– it seemed like you were looking through it like a piece of glass, that is how lost you were, until...
Everything went silent.
The voices in your head had settled, and all you could hear was Sukuna's breathing and your own echoing throughout the room. It was eerily quiet as the two of you remained.
"Their first words were their last."
You spoke without thought; the words had just slipped as you turned back to the father of your children, being met with his expressionless stare. You did not expect a response, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that he was no happier about this situation than you were; however, Sukuna was not grieving like you were. Your reasons for your dour moods were different, but that did not matter– you both were upset about what occurred.
As you held your husband's stare, it was almost as if you had some sort of understanding with one another, communicating without speaking before turning your attention back to your twins. With caution, you gently lifted your children into your arms, slowly standing as you managed to balance their limp bodies in your hold as you walked toward the door.
Your feet moved without command as you walked through the corridor, Sukuna walking at your side as you ventured in silence. The experience was almost that of your arrival at the temple– all eyes were on you; however, there were no whispers of gossip or vial comments and disgusting displays of arousal as you departed. The tension radiating from your aura was too great for such ill manners to be publicly displayed.
You had no clue where you were going and were hardly thinking about it. Your mind was void of consciousness as you reached the grand doors of the temple, stepping out into the cool night air. A part of you wishes you could have enjoyed it, to relish your first time outside the temple walls since your marriage, but the feeling was bitter and dull, especially as you looked upon the lights illuminating from your village.
Trekking through the terrain, you watched the lights grow brighter and more prominent, similar to the unknown feeling festering in your chest. You could hear their voices, their chanting of uprising as you approached the crowd, stopping just at the border of your village. One of the village elders was the first to notice you and Sukuna's approaching figures before ceasing the noise, focusing on your arrival.
"Y/n L/n, you have finally come home. Your family will be happy to know that you have finally returned," pausing to look at Sukuna before bringing his attention back to you, "It was wise of this monster to return you as requested. Come now child, we shall reunite you with your family."
You could hear him speak and understand his meaning and indirect stab at Sukuna's pride, but the words flowed from one ear to the other as your body remained rooted at the barrier.
"Come now, child, you are free!" the elder insisted as he motioned to you, confused and seemingly irritated at your lack of response.
"No."
The word slipped out seamlessly as you blankly stared at the man, watching his expression turn into shock.
"What do you mean, 'No'?"
"It means what I said," you simply responded before continuing, "Why would I come back to a home that sent me away like a lamb to the slaughter. You presented me like a slab of meat to the man you call a monster as if he were some valued patron, but suddenly, I have become worthy of retrieval after how many years? Why is that?"
"You ungrateful woman! We have pursued you for some time due to your parents' request. They paid handsomely to bring you back home, paid enough to fund our cause."
"And what cause was that?!" you retaliated.
"To kill that vile creature who stole you from us, my dear daughter!"
"...Mother," you whispered to yourself as your mom came into view, your father following her as they made their presence known.
"But it seems his influence has already tainted your mind," your mother spoke with a solemn look in her eyes, "But we can fix that if you just come home." the woman persisted as she held her arms out for a welcoming embrace.
Her comfort was tempting, but there was a lingering feeling of hesitance the longer you looked at the picture. This was something you wished for a long time, to be welcomed home with open arms, but the dream seemed stale as you stood there unmoving.
"Then why were harmless children slaughtered in his place?" you questioned.
"Harmless?" your parents uttered, baffled by your statement, "Those children were born to become monsters along with their father! They were far from harmless! That is why we had to cut them out of the picture!" your father yelled.
"...You did it?" you softly asked.
You could see your father's mouth open before closing, moving his gaze from your eyes to the motionless bodies in your arms. The disgusted faces your parents held were replaced with one of bewilderment and fear. They could finally understand your reluctance.
"Y/n..."
"They were harmless..." you started in a mutter, "They were not monsters! They were innocent! And you accused them of crimes they have never committed!"
"With their upbringing, it would have been inevitable! They were their father's children, after all!" the village elder interrupted, disdain laced in his voice.
"They were not guilty of Sukuna's crimes! They were innocent children!" you voiced, outraged with the small-minded thinking.
You looked to your parents for support but were only met by them avoiding your stare. They believed their actions were reasonable and considered them valid. You were not the one who was influenced... they were.
"Damn you all," you muttered, turning your back to the villagers.
"We did this for you to survive, Y/n! And here you are, well and alive. You kept your promise, so please come home!"
"Survived...survived..." Your chest heaved as you began to laugh hysterically. You placed your children down before rising, "Is this what survival is, just staying alive? Well, if that is the case, then yes, I have survived just like I promised, but with the cost of my life! I may have survived, but I will never live...not without them."
"There will be other opportunities to have children, my dear, with a far better suitor," your mother attempted to persuade, her arms still held open.
"Excuse me?"
That had done it.
"The man you practically sold me to was far from my first choice of significant other, but at least he managed to give my life some meaning, something to live for...and you took it from me, the last crowd of people I thought would do such a thing...how naive of me."
"Y/n, if we-"
"If you what?! Tell me, if you had known those children were mine, would you have spared them, given them mercy?"
No response.
"That's what I thought. You know I had hoped to come home with open arms, and shown by tonight, my wish came true; however, that was before I had the twins– the dream expanded to have all three of us welcomed with warmth...how pitifully optimistic of me."
"Y/n, I cannot tell you those events you hoped for would have come to fruition, but I can tell you this: you can start over, have a family you have always dreamed of... pure children."
Silence.
"They. Were. PURE!"
And just like that, the extent of that unusual feeling lingering in your chest had unleashed. The full extent of your furry had combusted in the form of your cursed energy and technique. Within the blink of an eye, what was once a bustling village full of chatter and laughter was now a blazing inferno filled with screams and cries.
You could see the fire, smell the blood, and hear their screams as they begged for mercy. They cried out for their children and loved ones whose bodies were now burning in the roaring flames, reduced to cinders and ashes. Those who threatened to charge were killed before they could make contact, their bodies contorting in ways the human form was incapable of, causing cries of pure agony as they were left to bleed out in their mangled state– they were retired to suffer in their pain as the life slowly drained out of them. If a suffering soul was fortunate, the fire would catch them aflame and kill them faster, or debris would land in a fatal spot or crush them whole to end their misery.
Viewing the demolished structures and flaming bodies, both dead and alive, was a petrifying view– yet you felt nothing. Your breath was methodical, your expression blank, your body unmoving. Pity and remorse were thrown out the window– fear and anguish had long vanished; however, anger and resentment lingered like a tiny flickering flame that continued to grow with each crumble and cry that could be heard.
Although your exterior appearance seemed calm and collected, your heartbeat said otherwise as it accelerated, pounding against your chest so hard you could eventually drown out the hollers of distress with its rapid thumping.
They were now suffering the pain and torture you had suffered for years to its full extent...
Unlike you, it was the kind of punishment they deserved.
You allowed yourself to view the sight for a few seconds longer before picking up your son and daughter, balancing them in your embrace again, and turning your back towards the village. You began to walk toward the temple, knowing better than to run off, but it was not like you had a reason to go anywhere else. There was no life for you. You were to remain by Sukuna's side until you died, and you were content with that.
"Y/n."
With all the heightened emotions and events that occurred only moments ago, you had forgotten Sukuna was there. The curse user had not muttered a word nor made a movement. He idly watched your wrath unfold, watched as you burnt your home to the ground.
You paused for a minute, looking blankly ahead as you thought of the past and reflected on your choices. Out of every action you committed, there was one you regretted most.
"I should have killed myself that morning, the morning after the ceremony. It would have saved me a lot of trouble and heartache."
With that, you walked off into the night, letting that thought of regret linger in your mind.
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In the Labyrinth (M) ~Changbin
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Pairing: Minotaur!Changbin x AFAB.Reader Themes: Mythical AU | Angst | Smut | Fluff Word Count: ~14k | AO3 Synopsis: The Labyrinth was an enigma for most people. Its existence was known, but what exactly happened within it was a complete mystery. When you entered the Labyrinth, you weren’t really sure what you’d have to come face to face with… Not even in a million years would you have guessed just exactly what you’d find in here. Warnings: descriptors of the reader such as: having long hair · mentions of murder · mentions of assault · depictions of anxiety · violence (in many different forms) · Changbin is 300cm tall (feels like that warrants a warning) · graphic depictions of outercourse (smut warnings under the cut). - feel free to let me know if i missed any.
Author’s Note: shout out to the anon that sent this ask back in august and ingrained the mental image of minotaur!changbin in my brain. more notes at the end.
Due to all the abovementioned warnings, this story is intended for an adult audience only. Minors please do not interact.
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Smut Warnings: size kink · literal monster cock (he’s a giant… and a half-bull, half-man one at that…) · nipple play · mutual masturbation · non-penetrative sex.
Disclaimer: the story presented in this work does not represent Stray Kids in any way; anything described in this story and all actions performed by the characters are purely fictional, this was created just for good fun.
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The sound of your footsteps bounced off of the walls. The corridors were more than spacious, well over twenty metres wide, with the ceiling probably twice as high, but even if it wasn’t crowded in here, it still made you a bit claustrophobic.
You supposed that the few holes in the ceiling did help ease that feeling a little bit. Emphasis on a little bit.
Even if you weren’t particularly thrilled about being down here, you still walked, because there was simply nothing else to do.
You could’ve sat down and awaited your death exactly where you had landed when they threw you in here, but you were never one to remain still for too long. 
So, after having a good crying session, and after hours had passed since you’d been given your death sentence, you had finally stood up and started to walk.
You knew what this place was, although you’d never really seen it. You hadn’t even known it was here in this exact area. 
The Labyrinth.
It was said that the place was humongous, practically never-ending, built by a king in ancient times as an offering to the Gods. Presumably, it’d ended up buried in the earth as time passed, and it stretched over kilometres and kilometres of land, but no one had really seen it and lived to tell the tale. At least, no one you knew of.
Law enforcement clearly knew the place, but you weren’t really sure if you could call them people. After all, they had never taken you seriously when you’d sought out their help. In a way, you felt like it was their fault you’d ended up here in the first place…
Although you’d heard of this place, you never really imagined it’d look like this inside. The brick walls were looking a bit worn down, but still structurally sound. They were lined with torches lit with eternal fire, just like the tales said. The floor would alternate between dirt, gravel, actual flooring, and mud. 
As you walked, you saw some ponds, some that even had fish inside. You figured that could be a potential way out, but you weren’t sure how deep you’d have to swim or if that’d be viable at all, so you scrapped the thought altogether. 
Sometimes, you’d see trees. Especially in those areas where there were holes on the ceiling. 
Some of those holes were partially blocked by metal rods, like law enforcement realised they were there and did the minimum required to keep a person or an animal from falling inside. Others were fully open, they varied in sizes, but they were honestly too high up for a person to reach them.
The trees, the mismatched flooring, and the occasional patch of grass weren’t that odd, though. They fit in well, and their presence made sense. What did feel out of place were the drawings on the walls. 
They weren’t on every wall, but there were so many of them it was hard not to notice they were there. Some looked like they’d been there for a long time, the colours were a bit washed out and some of the pigment had probably been absorbed by the brick overtime. Others looked like they could’ve been made a few weeks ago.
Birds, trees, deer, the sun, the moon… They were mostly nature themed, and, in any other context, you might’ve been inspired by the artistry. Even if they intrigued you, it was hard to appreciate them when you felt so hopeless, when you felt so… empty.
As soon as you had stopped crying earlier, you had accepted your fate–how long had it been since then? How long have you been walking for? Hours? How many? It was hard to tell down here… 
You realised just how much time had passed once you noticed another hole in the ceiling. You might’ve missed a few before, since it was clearly now well into the night and there was no light to highlight their presence. 
The faint stars you could see out of that hole made a knot form in your throat and tears well in your eyes. 
This was unfair.
You shouldn’t be the one in here. 
If anything, it should’ve been him.
If anyone had paid attention to you, it would’ve been him.
But instead, here you were.
You found a patch of grass under that hole you saw, so you just laid down and curled in on yourself and called it a night.
As the tears started to fall again, you reminded yourself that you had accepted your fate.
There was no going back now.
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It was hard to tell how long you’d been inside the Labyrinth for. 
The first couple of days, you kept count diligently, but at some point you realised it was absolutely pointless. Why would you even want to know that information, if you weren’t going to be able to leave?
You were on your own here. 
You’d seen items that clearly belonged to someone at some point scattered around the many corridors of the Labyrinth, but you hadn’t seen a single soul. Only the fish you’d caught from the occasional pond you found that helped keep your stomach full, or the odd magpie that would come from one of the ceiling’s holes and jump around for a bit before taking off and leaving you alone once again.
You were on your own here… That was, as long as the stories weren’t true.
At first, you thought that the death sentence meant you’d be locked here to starve to death, but that logic started to crumble when you saw just how many sources of sustenance were available. Fresh water, fruit, fish, birds–if one was skilled enough to be able to hunt one of those, or at least have the will to…
You wondered if law enforcement knew this place was like this… Whether they knew or not, you figured it probably didn’t matter. The longer you spent here, the more it made sense to you that the stories were true.
It was said that a beast lived inside the Labyrinth. 
A beast that would make the strongest, bravest man cower in fear.
Some people said it had multiple sets of arms, or that it was as big as the royal library building, bigger than any temple anyone had seen. Others said it was such a deformed being that just the sight of it would kill you, and if that didn’t, it would make sure to do so by eating its victims piece by piece.
You knew these were nothing but stories to garner attention, for people to cause unnecessary chaos just because they could. If these people had actually seen this alleged beast, you supposed they wouldn’t even be alive to share their experience with the world.
You had never believed such a thing existed, but as nights and days went by, there was a small–and very scared–part of you that believed it might be true. Maybe this beast was very real, and was roaming the corridors of the Labyrinth.
Even if you’d been lucky to have found a few ponds that were large enough for you to bathe in, you still had pretty much only what you’d been wearing since you were thrown in here. You had used those ponds to wash your peplos a few times, but, unfortunately, it wasn’t even in good shape to begin with, and rinsing it in water seemed to hardly help its condition.
Your feet ached, your sandals were certainly not meant to be used to walk these distances, and the feeling of your dirty garments, combined with the lack of human contact, were steadily driving you crazy with every day that passed. Maybe this was the punishment. To be driven to insanity by what would usually be a minor inconvenience, by the amount of nothing that was happening around you.
The fact that you kept seeing his face in your dreams didn’t help it one bit.
Sometimes, you’d see it even when you were awake. You just needed to close your eyes, and you immediately got flashes of red and the feeling of pure hatred and anger… 
You always felt like washing your hands after, like jumping into any pond or puddle you could find. And whenever you could, you did.
Unfortunately, no amount of hand-washing and bathing would make the feeling go away.
You figured you’d have to learn to live with it.
As you furiously scrubbed your palms for the millionth time that day, you started to hear something.
Your movements stopped, but your hands remained submerged in the pond. It was usually quiet inside the Labyrinth, save for the few birds that’d sometimes fly and sing above you, or the occasional splashing fish inside the numerous bodies of water. 
But, right now, you could definitely hear something… Not only that, but you could feel something.
You could barely notice while you still had your hands under the water, but the rippling on the surface of it couldn’t have been made by you. Not when the little pebbles on the ground were shaking, too.
Thump…
Thump…
Thump…
Thump…
The sound seemed to be coming from the corridor on your right. It was growing closer, but your body wouldn’t move. You couldn’t move. You were just kneeling there, looking at the flickering torches lining the walls, with your hands still inside the pond, completely paralysed.
It wasn’t until you saw the shadow of something popping from around the corner that you actually came to your senses.
You had to run.
And you had to run now.
You stood up from the ground faster than you could even blink. Taking the lower part of your peplos with tight, wet fists, you just started to run as fast as you could. 
You could practically feel your heart in your throat as anxiety started to kick in. You had convinced yourself that this beast didn’t exist, you had thought that since you hadn’t seen it in your time here, it must’ve not existed at all.
But the deep bellow that resonated within the corridor was proof enough that you had been severely mistaken.
It was so loud that the sound seemed to penetrate into your skin and rattle your bones from deep within. A ringing broke free in your ears, accompanying your agitated heartbeat.
Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… 
The whole ground shook with each heavy step the beast took, so much so, you tripped and fell into a path of rough gravel, ripping your clothing and scraping your knees in the process.
You couldn’t stop, though. There was no pain, no moment to think twice, you just stood up and kept running. You ran and ran and ran, turning the many corners of the Labyrinth as you went… 
There was a little voice in the back of your mind telling you it was useless, but you didn’t want to hear it. You refused to hear it.
At least, until you turned and found yourself in a dead end. 
Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… 
Whatever it was, it drew closer and closer, shaking the ceiling and the walls as it tried to catch up with you.
Maybe you could still escape it somehow. Maybe, you’d be able to run past it and lose it in the many corridors of the Labyrinth.
When you turned around, you realised just how foolish that thought had been.
The air escaped your lungs when your back hit the wall. Your feet weren’t touching the ground, and you could feel pressure on your sides from where you were being held against the wall.
Your vision was blurry from the lack of oxygen, you could barely make out the shape in front of you. Horns, fur, and… and a face.
You’d accepted your fate…
Or so you had thought.
“Please…” Your voice was barely above a whisper, not only due to how breathless you were after running for so long and after being pushed so forcibly against the wall, but also because the knot in your throat was just too big. “Don’t–Don’t hurt me”.
The first tear fell down your cheek, and many more followed soon after. You couldn’t see properly. Whatever was in front of you, was big enough to shield all light from hitting whichever parts you could’ve potentially seen.
The creature huffed, and you closed your eyes tightly as its face moved closer to yours.
Its breath was warm against your face. You almost flinched, expecting the smell of rotten flesh to envelop you, but, instead, all you could smell was laurel.
You could feel yourself tremble in its hold as sobs kept escaping your throat. The creature sniffed you, first your face, then your neck. It got so close in its exploration that you could feel the tip of a textured, moist nose against your skin. You braced yourself for what was to come. You were sure it was getting ready to eat you whole, hopefully in one single chomp, so you wouldn’t have to suffer too much…
The thing pulled away from your neck, and just when you thought it was going to go for it, you were moving. 
It was so unexpected you barely registered it.
One second you were pressed against the bricks, and the next your stomach was pressing against firm muscle, and your arms were dangling over the creature’s back. Almost like it… like it had thrown you over its shoulder. And, after a few seconds of shock, you realised it had.
The beast had a strong hold on your back as it started to walk, presumably taking you somewhere.
You tried to blink the remaining tears away, at least enough so you could properly see something, anything.
You caught sight of the ground. You were definitely moving, and, for a moment, you thought you were imagining things. 
You could see smooth skin, you could feel it against your arms and hands whenever they hit it as they moved with each of the creature’s steps. Its back was very human-like… However, that smooth skin transitioned into dark fur towards the lower part of its body.
The tail of the creature swishing from side to side was the last thing you saw before you lost grasp of your surroundings.
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Warmth.
You felt warm, but it wasn’t an unpleasant feeling. It was more like… a cosy feeling.
There was soft fabric under your hands, you could feel it dragging against your skin as your consciousness woke up.
Laurel… The smell of it filled your senses with that first intake of breath. 
Laurel… like the beast’s breath.
Your eyes snapped open. They immediately landed on the patch of night sky that could be seen from the hole in the ceiling, right on top of you. You blinked slowly, taking in the sight of the twinkling stars above you. 
Faint chewing sounds brought you back into the room, they made you remember what had happened before you lost consciousness. With quick movements, you sat up, and your breath hitched in your throat when your eyes locked onto the beast sitting a few metres in front of you.
Its eyes bore into yours as it chewed leisurely, on what you assumed to be a deer leg based on the shape of it. It didn’t make any movements, nor did it make any sounds–other than the occasional grunt when the meat was too stuck to the bone.
You were, quite honestly, speechless.
You had heard of the beast, but none of the descriptions truly matched what you were seeing right now.
A big, big creature. Inhumanly tall. Its torso was that of a man. Well defined, smooth, tanned skin, strong–very strong…–pecs, nipples adorned with silver jewellery, even stronger looking arms, and, although bigger than you had ever seen them, very human-looking hands. 
That torso transitioned into bovine-like lower limbs–covered in thick, dark fur, strong thighs and calves, ending in hooves. But, most impactful, was its head. Human-looking as well, save for the pair of horns that protruded from its skull and a cattle-like nose. The horns were decorated with thick silver rings that glistened with the very few torches lit around the room.
Its face, though… Chubby cheeks, pouty lips, and a strong, but bull-looking nose, pierced with a thick silver hoop. Objectively, the face of a handsome man, all things considered…
You had truly never, ever seen anything like it.
The way it was looking at you felt purposeful, like it wasn’t doing it just for the sake of it, but more like it was aware of your presence in a conscious, coherent way. It wasn’t just the way an animal would look at another animal, more like a human would look at another human.
You swallowed, suddenly hyper aware of your body. Everything hurt. Your feet, your knees, your arms… you were sore all over. When you finally broke eye contact with the creature–man…?–in front of you, and looked at yourself instead, you were perplexed at the sight of your bandaged knees.
Your eyes snapped back up to meet the beast’s, who was eating the last few pieces of meat off the bone in his hand, but still looking at you. 
“Did you…” Your voice broke due to your sore throat. You cleared it before you tried to speak again. “Did you do this?”
You gestured to the bandages, and it nodded to your question.
The beast understood you. It understood you and was able to answer the question.
“…Why?”
It seemed to be thoughtful for a moment, suckling on the bone to leave it completely clean before it threw it on a pile of bones in a corner of the room. Ultimately it simply shrugged, rendering you speechless once again.
The beast stood up from the ground, and walked towards another corner of the room, where a pond was. It knelt on the edge of it, and dipped its hands into the water. After scooping some water into its palms, it brought them close to his face and drank from them. 
Was it… washing its hands? And its mouth?
You realised it was, in fact, washing its mouth when it–he…?–finally stood up and walked over to some trees, where he plucked some leaves to eat them–or, more accurately, to chew on them.
“What… What are you?” You couldn’t help the question from leaving your mouth. What you were seeing right now was so absurd you just needed to ask.
He shrugged once again, chewing leisurely as it finally started walking closer to you. 
You honestly didn’t even try to move away, you were too in awe of his entire existence for your body to properly send you into fight or flight response. 
He was so… big. Even when he finally crouched in front of the pile of fabric you’d been laying on, he just looked huge.
“Changbin”, he said all of a sudden.
Your jaw went slack for a moment. He could speak.
“Ch–Changbin?”
He nodded. “That’s what… my father calls me”.
Changbin spoke slowly, like he wasn’t used to speaking at all. You supposed it made sense, considering the stories surrounding the beast inside the Labyrinth.
But… father, he said? “You… you have a father?”
He nodded again, but didn’t say anything else. Changbin just looked at you, in complete silence.
You’d admit it was a bit… awkward.
“Do you… Is this what you do with the people that are thrown into the Labyrinth?”
Changbin shook his head, which further puzzled you.
“I usually kill them. Sometimes I eat them if there’s nothing else to eat… Other times, just use them as food for the plants and birds that live here”, he said simply, like it was nothing. You supposed to him it was nothing.
“Why haven’t you killed me?” You had to ask, because you just couldn’t comprehend how you could still be alive.
His eyes jumped from one of yours to the other repeatedly for a bit. Until he eventually shrugged. “Don’t want to”.
You didn’t really feel like asking ‘Why?’ again, so you just cleared your throat, and decided to introduce yourself instead.
Changbin remained quiet for a few moments, until he repeated your name a few times out loud, like he was trying to get used to the sound. 
After about ten minutes of prying, Changbin explained to you that this was his den. It was at the very centre of the Labyrinth. He knew this whole place like the back of his hand, every twist and turn, every pond and every tree, he knew where absolutely everything was. Apparently, he’d lived here a long, long time.
You wanted to inquire more, but before you could, his ears perked up, and he looked towards the one and only exit of this area.
“Someone’s entered the Labyrinth”, he mumbled, almost to himself. He stood up from the floor, and wiped his hands on his fur before he started walking. When he reached the entrance, he turned back to look at you. “Stay here. Will be back in a couple of days”.
You didn’t really think you had any other choice.
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Coexisting with Changbin was… weird.
It wasn’t uncomfortable by any means, but it was certainly weird. 
He clearly didn’t understand human behaviour much. As in, he’d do things people typically didn’t do.
He’d stare at you a lot–very intensely, if you might add–he spoke in short sentences, or was too forward with what he said. For the most part, though, you didn’t mind. Considering the type of men you were used to, Changbin was far from bad.
Was he a huge half-man, half-bull creature that ate humans sometimes?
Yes.
But even then, he was heaps better than other men you’d met.
He had offered his nest for you to sleep on. He’d shared with you any fish he caught, and even brought you fruit sometimes. For the most part, you didn’t leave his den, and he simply let you stay.
Being honest, part of the reason why you didn’t leave was because you weren’t sure if you were allowed to. After all, he’d brought you in here himself. 
Whenever someone entered the Labyrinth, he’d always ask you to stay while he left to look for them. Upon his return, he’d also share whichever goods he’d retrieved.
“You want this?” Changbin offered you a lump of fabric. It almost looked like a napkin in his hands, but when you took it and had a good look at it, you realised it was a chiton. And a fairly new one at that.
Your peplos was way too worn by now. You weren’t really sure how long you’d been inside the Labyrinth at this point, but you also figured it really didn’t matter. You’d washed your clothes plenty of times during your time here, but the rips and tears were just too many already, so you accepted the fresh garment.
“Thank you”, you looked up at him, trying not to focus too much on the swell of his chest, or the trail of fur that started from his navel and continued downwards, turning into his bovine legs.
Changbin was, truly, a sight to behold. Roughly three metres of hunk… The longer you spent around him, the longer you just… wanted to look at him. 
You supposed you weren’t any different than him in that regard. At least, he didn’t seem bothered by it when you stared at him.
Changbin nodded, and made his way to his makeshift, newer nest. You felt a bit bad that you’d taken his much bigger sleeping space, but when you tried to get him to use it again, he simply told you ‘It’s your nest now’, so you just… kept using it to lay and sleep on.
“Washed it on my way here”, Changbin said once he was sitting on his nest, looking at you. Only then did you realise he’d not only brought the chiton with him, but also a bowl full of what looked like wildberries, and a guest.
The guest sat on the very top of his head, it was a bird. A fairly small one, but one that was clearly injured, if the way it weakly fluttered its wings was anything to go by.
You nodded, and repeated a soft ‘Thank you’. You honestly tried not to think too much about the person this piece of clothing belonged to just a few days ago. There was no point in that… It was yours now. 
When you brought your hand to the fabric belt around your waist, you untied the knot that kept your peplos in place. The garment loosened, but before you could remove it, you looked back at Changbin.
He was just… staring at you. Like he always did.
You swallowed, trying to ignore the heat you felt spreading on your cheeks. “Could you, uhm…”
His ears perked up, listening intently to what you had to say. 
“Could you maybe look away?” 
Changbin blinked slowly, and his tail started swishing calmly behind him. “Why?”
“Because, y’know… I’m going to undress”, you replied simply, bringing the chiton closer to your chest. The heat on your face seemed to intensify.
“And?” 
You were slightly taken aback by that. But as you looked at him, you couldn’t see anything other than genuine curiosity in his eyes. “I’ll undress… That means I’ll be naked in front of you”.
“Okay”.
Now you started blinking slowly. Okay he said. Just… Okay. How… odd. “Changbin, I don’t want you to, uh… see”.
His eyebrows furrowed at that. “Why?”
“Because it’s not appropriate”.
“How come?” He placed the bowl on the ground and leaned back on his hands, spreading his legs in front of him. “I’m naked right now”.
Ah… You supposed he was naked.
You tried really hard not to move your eyes away from his face, especially considering the position he was in… You didn’t want your eyes to just wander to improper territories. After all, there seemed to be a lot to look at…
As you pushed aside the chaotic thoughts inside your head, his comment made you realise that maybe it wasn’t inappropriate to be naked. At least not here, not with Changbin.
You weren’t on the surface anymore. You weren’t bound to human customs anymore, not since the moment you’d been sentenced, and the more you thought of that, the more you started to understand. 
This was your safe place now. There was no judgement here, or, at least, you hadn’t felt any at all.
So you swallowed, suddenly feeling a bit nervous. With your eyes fixed on Changbin’s, you tried your best to ignore the warmth that took over your face as you undid your peplos. 
The garment fell to the floor, and only then did his eyes wander. He looked at you, with his head tilted to the side. You could’ve sworn you saw his eyes twinkle under the light of the few flickering torches on the wall. ‘Don’t like to keep too many in here… Too bright’, Changbin had told you a few days ago, when you’d asked why there weren’t as many torches in his den as in the corridor walls, and his answer had just made sense to you.
You could almost feel his eyes tracing every curve of your body, and you tried to not focus on how that made you feel. Instead, you just threw the chiton on and quickly fastened it with the belt around your waist.
Changbin’s eyes were back on yours as you finished fixing your clothes, before you started to plait your hair.
“Are you cold?” He asked all of a sudden, just as you finished tying your hair.
Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Not… not particularly?” 
“Why’d you wear that, then?”
“Wear what? This?” You gestured to the garment you’d just put on, and Changbin simply nodded to your question. You blinked blankly at him for a few moments before you answered him. “I don’t… I shouldn’t be showing my body like that, y’know? It’s inappropriate. At least, on the surface it is. So we just… wear clothes”.
“That’s why humans wear clothes?” He sounded genuinely incredulous, and based on the way his eyes widened, you figured he was. “Thought y’all were just cold all the time”.
You couldn’t help but snort at that. You laughed. You laughed like you hadn’t laughed in weeks, almost madly even. 
This was all just so, so absurd. You’d been sentenced to death, and somehow, you’d ended up here, with a creature like Changbin. A sentient creature that thought humans wore clothes just because ‘they were cold all the time’.
“Why shouldn’t you show your body?” Changbin looked beyond confused, and somehow it made you laugh harder. “It’s… well, there. It’s you. Why hide it?”
Your laugh died down, and you wiped the few stray tears that had fallen from your eyes. There was a small smile tugging at his lips, he didn’t seem fazed by your fit of laughter other than looking mildly confused now, so you just composed yourself and answered him as honestly as you could. “It’s… a private thing…”
“Private?” Changbin asked, tilting his head cutely to the side. “So no one has seen you naked?”
You went quiet at that, and started fidgeting with the end of your belt. “Some people have… Y’know, my mum… My–my husband…”
The title left a bitter taste on your tongue, but you tried to ignore it. You didn’t like thinking about him. Whenever you did, you always tried to squash the mental image to the deepest recesses of your mind. It was just… a bit too much still.
“You’re married?” Changbin asked, curiously, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees.
“Not anymore”, you looked away from him, trying to ignore his peering eyes. You really didn’t feel like elaborating further, so you tried to divert the conversation by talking about literally anything else. The weather, the flowers that had started to bloom in his garden, the bird on top of his head…
Changbin didn’t really pry further, he just followed your chaotic rambling as best as he could, until he eventually started crushing the berries in his bowl and telling you about the bird.
Apparently, he’d found it yesterday when he was on his way back here, and had been trying to nurse it back into health since. While he told you the story, he kept crushing the wildberries in his bowl, and he’d occasionally bring his free hand up to the little critter. It simply pecked his fingertip a few times before it resumed grooming his hair. 
After a while, he stood up from his makeshift nest. With his bowl of crushed berries in hand, and the injured bird nestled on the crown of his head among his messy hair, Changbin made his way to a nearby wall. You just watched him curiously from where you were laying on his original nest.
Changbin dipped two of his fingers in the mixture of crushed berries, and then he just… drew a line on the wall.
Then another…
And another… 
He was silent for the most part, but low noises would occasionally resonate from his chest when the little bird on his head chirped. It was almost like they were having a conversation.
And you figured they were. Mostly because every couple of lines he made, he’d huff, and the bird would chirp in response. Changbin simply nodded–carefully, as to not let the bird fall with the movement–and kept on drawing.
You weren’t sure how long you spent there, just looking at him doing his thing, but it was genuinely fascinating. The way his tail would sway every once in a while, the way the muscles on his back flexed and relaxed as he moved all sorts of ways as he painted on the walls…
Eventually, his lines took the very distinct shape of a bird, one that mirrored the one on his head almost perfectly.
“Changbin?” You asked after a while. He hummed to let you know he was listening, so you continued. “Did you make all the other drawings throughout the Labyrinth?”
It seemed like a silly question to ask, because, who else would’ve done it, if not the beast doing one just now in front of you?
Changbin added the finishing touches to his drawing, then he turned to look at you. He offered the remnants of crushed berries in his bowl to the bird, just as he brought the two fingers he’d been using to his mouth so he could lick them clean.
You tried not to focus too much on the action by fixing your eyes on his. 
He pulled his digits out of his mouth with a slight sucking sound, and nodded. “I did”.
“Mmm… They’re pretty”, you said simply.
Because, to you, they were.
You found them odd when you first saw them, since they didn’t seem to fit the aura surrounding this place, but they were certainly pretty. And knowing they’d been made by him, just seemed to make them even prettier.
Changbin finally put the bowl down on one of the many tall–but flat–rocks scattered throughout the room, and, for a moment, you could’ve sworn his cheeks had reddened. “Thanks…”
You just offered him a smile, even if he wasn’t looking at you. 
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A cold wind filtered through the hole in the ceiling, it had your teeth chattering and your whole body shivering. You tried to cover yourself further, but the way Changbin had built his nest made it so you really couldn’t pull fabric from it without messing it up, and there was no spare cloth close by that you could use as a blanket.
It made sense, you supposed. He didn’t seem like he needed anything to keep himself warm, and you also hadn’t needed it before during your stay here, so you hadn’t even tried to ask for one.
You heard faint shuffling, followed by quiet thump, thump, thumps, until you felt warmth close to you.
“Tiny human”, Changbin mumbled, pulling your attention fully towards him.
You hummed to let him know you were listening, but you didn’t open your eyes, nor did you feel like wasting energy saying actual words. You needed to use every bit of it you could to try to keep yourself warm.
“You’re whimpering. Why?”
Had you been whimpering?
You hadn’t even realised you were. Maybe you’d fallen asleep without noticing… 
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your trembling form, but it only brought a rush of cold air inside your body. “M’cold…”
There was silence for a moment. With half lidded eyes, you could’ve sworn you were seeing your breath coming out of your mouth in little white clouds. It didn’t make you feel any better. If anything, it agitated you a bit more, but you couldn’t even express it fully.
Changbin was quiet for a long while, but you could still feel him close. You appreciated it. It felt like moral support, at least. 
Eventually, you heard–and felt–him shuffle closer to the nest. “Can I… Can I keep you warm?”
You immediately nodded. You didn’t care what he did, or how he did it. You just needed to be warm, and if he could give you that you’d honestly take it.
There was more shuffling, and then there was a minute dip in the nest. You yelped when you felt Changbin’s arm wrap around your waist and pull you into him from behind.
His hold was strong, firm, but also… gentle. He kept you close, with his chin resting on the top of your head and a hand pressed firmly against your stomach. He was so close, and so, so warm, you immediately felt yourself relaxing, moulding into his body, almost like… like you’d always been meant to.
Slowly, his warmth seeped into you, until you were no longer shivering. Tentatively, you placed a hand on top of the one he kept on your stomach. You could’ve sworn you felt him jump a bit behind you, but as soon as you started tracing his knuckles with your fingertips, he seemed to relax once again.
You weren’t really sure what compelled you to do it, you had just… felt like doing it. You spent a while just like that, feeling each knuckle of his fingers, feeling the prominent veins on the back of his hand. They were so big… especially compared to your own.
You’d never felt like a particularly small person, but next to him, you certainly looked tiny, you felt tiny. But only physically. Being honest, you’d never felt as equal to someone as you felt with Changbin.
“I think you’re pretty, too”, he mumbled all of a sudden, and for a moment, you felt your heart stop, only to resume its beating at record-breaking speeds. “Like my drawings, I mean…”
You turned in his hold, and immediately buried your face in his neck. Not only seeking the heat of his skin, but also trying to hide the flustered reaction on your face. He just held you closer, further enveloping you in his warmth. 
“Thank you…” You mumbled against the skin of his neck, and he simply offered you a tiny sound of content in response.
In the safety of Changbin’s arms, blanketed in his body heat, you finally fell asleep. 
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You didn’t mind staying at Changbin’s den, but you were starting to get a bit… bored. 
Mostly if he was gone. When he was there, you could at least strike conversation, or play some sort of game. Knucklebones was a favourite of yours, for example.
When he wasn’t here, all you did was try to keep yourself entertained with whatever items Changbin had lying around, or by tending to the garden inside the den.
At some point, you’d managed to use some of the numerous pieces of fabric he’d collected to make yourself a proper blanket. Although, to be fair, you hardly ever needed it.
It was a given at this point that he’d snuggle up next to you to keep you warm. Since that very first night, you’d only had to use your blanket when someone had entered the Labyrinth and he wasn’t here.
You’d admit, sleeping with Changbin was… nice. Especially since temperatures seemed to be decreasing by the day.
He was all plush and warm and his heartbeat just helped you relax. Ever since you got married–since you were forced to get married…–you had never enjoyed sharing your sleeping space, but, with Changbin, it was different. You just… felt safe. As odd as that might sound.
“It’s not fair! You got it so much easier to pick those up!” Changbin huffed, clicking his tongue when you, once again, beat him at your game of knucklebones.
“Find bigger pieces, then!” You chuckled, jiggling the small set of bones in your hand. “I’m sure there are plenty of huge rocks you can get in here”.
He just clicked his tongue again, finishing in a cute pout as he crossed his arms over his chest. All that did was bring your attention to the swell of his pecs and the size of his arms, which immediately made you swallow. 
Dear Gods, was he big… 
You scrambled to fix your eyes on his face. These were thoughts you didn’t feel like entertaining… what would be the point of it if you did? What would you even do with someone like Changbin? It felt a bit too… complicated. But, there was a little voice in the deepest areas of your conscience begging you to entertain the thought… telling you that it’d surely be worth it.
You decided to ignore it.
“Hey, Changbin”, you tried to get his attention back on you, disregarding the plethora of sinful scenarios that were playing in the back of your mind. 
Changbin’s ears flickered before he was fixing his eyes on you again, so you took it as a sign to speak. “You think I could… go out for a walk?”
He uncrossed his arms so he could lean back on his hands, once again, making you absolutely struggle to keep your eyes on his face and not on whatever was going on between his legs. “You want to?”
You just nodded in response, nervously tapping on the floor one of the bones you held in your hand.
“Then you can”, he replied simply.
“I can?” You didn’t mean to sound incredulous, but you supposed his nonchalance did take you by surprise.
“‘Course. If you want to, you can”.
“You don’t mind?”
Changbin blinked slowly at you for a moment, before his eyebrows furrowed. “Why would I mind?”
“Dunno… I thought you… thought you might”.
“Why did you think that?”
Huh, good question… Why would you think that?
You supposed there was a part of you that had just kind of… assumed he’d mind. But you realised then that he’d never really said anything about it.
He’d only ever asked you to stay when someone else came into the Labyrinth, and you supposed it made sense he would if he cared for your safety. Which you were pretty sure he did, considering all he’d done for you so far… So you just offered him a smile and a slight shake of your head. 
“Ah, it’s nothing…” You stood up from the floor and wiped your hands on your chiton. “‘Suppose I’ll be back in a bit…”
Changbin just hummed to acknowledge you, but didn’t say anything else, so you made your way to the entrance of the room.
When you finally reached it, you stopped. As you looked at the corridor outside of the circle-shaped area that made Changbin’s den, you couldn’t help but feel your stomach sink. No matter where you looked, left or right, the way was seemingly endless. Every direction looked almost the same–save for the few paintings on the walls and the different textures on the floor.
If you left for a walk, would you be able to find your way back? You honestly weren’t too sure, and, truly… you wanted to come back. You were sure there was no better place to be inside the Labyrinth other than here, with Changbin.
So you turned around, finding the beast himself looking at you. 
His tail swayed calmly behind him, his ears occasionally flickered, but, for the most part, he looked serene, sitting there on the floor where he’d been just before you stood up yourself.
“Would you… uhm…” You pinched a piece of your chiton between your fingers, and started fidgeting with it, looking in his overall direction but not really looking at him. “Would you like to come with me?”
You finally looked at his face. There was a small smile on his lips, and it honestly made your heart flutter. “Y’know I’ll find you if you get lost, right?”
No.
No, you didn’t know that.
You didn’t know he’d go out of his way to find you if you disappeared. You knew that he cared about what happened to you to some degree, but enough to look for you if you got lost? Even if it could potentially take days?
If you thought about it, maybe that, too, made sense. Maybe he enjoyed your presence just as much as you did his.
Licking your lips, you let go of that bit of fabric you’d been rolling between your fingers. “Would you come with me anyway?”
With a huff, Changbin stood up from the ground. He wiped his hands on his thighs, just before he walked to stand next to you. That was a good enough answer for you.
So, you finally stepped out into the corridor, and Changbin followed soon after.
The farther you tried to look, the more anxiety seemed to pool in your stomach. If the Labyrinth had made you claustrophobic when you first stepped in it, right now, leaving Changbin’s den, you felt haunted with agoraphobia. 
The corridors were endless, the ceiling felt like it was way too high–unlikely, since it was pretty much the same height as it was inside the den…–and the fact that you couldn’t see the first turn in either direction you looked had your head spinning. So you turned back to Changbin.
“Is there any place you like? If there is, I’d like you to show me”.
Changbin just nodded, and started walking. You followed him from closely behind, nervously looking over your shoulder sometimes, but, for the most part, you tried to focus on the drawings on the walls, or the flashes of nature around you.
It was quiet, save for the flicker of the eternal fire and the thumps produced with each step Changbin took. They weren’t as loud as they’d been the first time you heard him, probably because he was walking very, very slowly.
Even if he was walking slowly, though, you were starting to get out of breath from trying to keep up with the steps his long legs could take. One of Chanbin’s steps could’ve very well been ten of yours…
You weren’t sure how many turns you took, you simply followed him wherever he would go, asking for a few pauses sometimes when you felt like you needed to catch your breath.
There were parts of the Labyrinth that were dimmer than others. As Changbin explained to you, it was either because someone had taken a torch off its support on the wall and never returned it, or he himself had moved the torches somewhere else.
When you asked him why he’d moved them, he just said he’d get bored, and just found some entertainment in moving things around. Fair enough, you guessed…
Both of you finally came to a full stop in front of a tree. A big, very old-looking one. There was a patch of grass all around it, and it was almost tall enough to reach the ceiling. The hole above it surely provided enough light and water for the tree to thrive even down here. 
“This is a place I like. Birds come in here sometimes. They keep me company”, Changbin plopped down at the base of the tree and leaned on it. While he looked at you, he patted the grass in front of him, right between his legs.
Your body reacted before your mind could, and, almost instinctively, you found yourself sitting on the grass and snuggled against his chest. He just wrapped his arms around your frame and kept you close, like he often did. 
Soon enough, birds started coming in from the hole high above your heads, and you simply closed your eyes and started to hum a melody to accompany their chirping. You could certainly understand why he’d like being in a place like this, it was peaceful.
“You…” Changbin mumbled after a while, while he softly traced shapes on your arm with his thumb. “You used to pray, didn’t you?”
Your eyebrows furrowed, just before you pulled yourself away from his embrace to look him in the eyes. There was a bird perched on one of his horns already, picking at his hair, but he seemed unbothered by it.
“How’d you… How do you know that?” No one knew you prayed. In fact, you hadn’t prayed in a long, long time. It used to bring you comfort, maybe even hope, but that, too, had been crushed by the heavy weight of reality many moons ago.
Changbin looked up at the hole in the ceiling, which was covered by iron rods. His gaze was fixed on it for a while, and he remained quiet for a bit.
“I think I used to hear you pray”, his eyes were on yours again, and you suddenly felt your cheeks heating up at the attention. “You used to sing, too. Hum, like you did just now… The birds back then used to tell me you brought them food”.
The site you prayed at was incredibly far from where you’d been dropped into the Labyrinth. You knew this place was huge, but you honestly hadn’t realised just how much until this very moment.
“You stopped coming, though”, Changbin looked at you in a way that made you feel almost like he knew… “Was it because of him?”
Please! Don’t hurt me!
The memory was fresh, it wasn’t one you could just forget. Your husband… he wasn’t fond of the Gods, especially not the ones you prayed to. After all, you were praying in hopes they’d just… do something.
When law enforcement didn’t pay attention to you, you had turned to your faith for help.
But they, too, had failed you.
When your husband found out you’d been going to that specific place in the forest to pray, that you had your own humble shrine in there, he made absolutely sure you never returned. The place was now riddled with memories of nothing but pain, sorrow…
You felt a knot swell in your throat, out of fury more than anything else. You refused to let tears fall, though. The damage was done already, and even if you felt infuriated by how unjust everything that happened back then had been, the nightmare was over, and you had no one to thank but yourself for it.
Looking at Changbin, you nodded, just to let him know that it had been, in fact, because of him that you’d stopped going to pray to the forest currently above your heads.
“Even back then… I felt like it was unfair”, Changbin’s eyes jumped all over your face, while his thumb kept caressing the skin of your arm.
“It was”, you replied simply, looking up at him from where you were sitting between his legs. “But it’s no longer a problem. It’s stopped now”.
The bird that had been picking at Changbin’s hair finally flew away when he nodded. You looked him in the eyes for a while longer, until you finally leaned into him once again, and rested your head on his chest, right over his heart.
Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump… Thump…
The gentle rhythm vibrated against your ear, and, right then and there, you knew that it had all truly stopped. You were safe. It was, definitely, no longer a problem. In a way, you’d made sure of that…
You both stayed under that tree for a long time that afternoon, until you asked Changbin to show you anywhere else he liked before you made it back to the den.
Without saying a word, he effortlessly picked you up from the ground, and took you in his arms, making you all flustered when he offered you a ‘Tiny legs. Makes you slow…’ which you supposed you couldn’t argue with. To him, your legs were surely tiny, especially when compared to his own.
When you were back at Changbin’s den, you were tired, so you quickly washed up before you had dinner. Seared fish–courtesy of the eternal fire from one of the torches–with an assortment of fruits that somehow worked together, finished off with the corresponding pile of laurel leaves Changbin liked to chew on often–a habit which you yourself had picked up overtime.
It wasn’t long until you found yourself in Changbin’s nest, surrounded by soft fabric and his warmth. Cuddling had become one of your favourite winding down activities, and you certainly liked to do it for as long as you could. There was something about the closeness to someone else that felt… fulfilling. And you’d never truly felt this close to someone in your life.
Oftentimes, while cuddling, you also found yourself having the most profound conversations with Changbin. Either you or him–or both–would start bearing their hearts out for the other, and it was… nice.
Regardless of what you spoke about, it was nice.
“You…” Changbin mumbled, burying his fingers in your hair to gently caress your scalp. “Why’d they drop you here?”
You took a deep breath, mindlessly playing with the thick fur in the middle of his chest. “I took someone’s life…”
Changbin hummed, nuzzling your forehead with his nose. It was moist against your skin, but you didn’t mind.
“My husband…” You started, stilling the movement of your fingers in his fur to instead lay your hand on his chest. “I was just… I tried to get help. Every time he hurt me, I tried to get help. So, so many times… but no one listened. One night, he was trying to force himself on me and I just… took one of those hideous stone busts he kept around the house and I… hit him in the head”.
The memory wasn’t pleasant. You still remembered the first moment of shock, when you stared at his limp body on the floor. You remembered the blood, how it started to pool and stain that equally hideous rug he’d purchased for way too much money. You remembered the mess left behind when you tried to move your husband’s body out of the house so you could hide it in the forest…
But you were caught.
You were caught and no matter how much you explained what had happened, no one believed you.
“So I was sentenced to die”, you looked away from his chest to look him in the eyes. They seemed to be sparkling under the moonlight shining on you both. His eyes… They were gentle, and had the prettiest shade of brown you’d ever seen. “I should be dead by now. They were expecting you to kill me”.
Changbin’s eyes flickered between yours. They danced around your face for a moment, until they settled on your mouth. “I couldn’t. Don’t want to, either”.
“I know”, you mumbled simply. Bringing a hand to his face, you started tracing his features, his eyebrows, his nose, his cheeks… Changbin just closed his eyes as soon as your fingertips were on his skin, and his ears flickered happily as you did. “You’re way more than the beast people make you out to be”.
“You think so?” He asked it in a way that made it seem like he genuinely cared about what you had to say, like your opinion was valuable to him.
You hummed in confirmation, nodding slowly, because you truly meant it. Changbin was a bit of a brute, he was very capable of harming you, but he was also capable of being so incredibly gentle. Like he’d been with the injured bird he’d brought to his den many months ago. Like he’d been with you when he tended to your wounds when he brought you in here, or when you were shivering from the cold…
“Changbin…” You broke the silence after a while, placing your hand on his cheek and stroking the skin with your thumb. “Do you know what a kiss is?”
Changbin opened his eyes then, offering you an almost shy nod of his head.
“Have you kissed anyone before?” You placed your free hand on his chest, right over his heart. It was beating so incredibly fast… It was almost like you could feel every thump penetrate into your palm and rattle your insides.
Changbin shook his head, fixing his eyes on your mouth once again.
You licked your lips, almost absentmindedly. He was so close, and so warm, and you just… wanted him. “Would you like to?”
Changbin nodded again, so you just went for it.
Slowly, you leaned in, brushing your lips softly against his for a moment before you connected them fully. It was almost shy, just a tender peck on his lips, but it was a kiss nonetheless.
You pulled back a bit to look him in the eyes. Sparkly… Even more so than before. In an instant, his hand was at your waist, pulling you closer against his body as he leaned in to kiss you again.
It was slow, gentle, and it made your heart flutter. His lips slotted so perfectly with yours, you couldn’t even believe you’d ever kissed anyone else. So many kisses wasted, when you could’ve been giving them to him instead…
Tentatively, your tongue made contact with his bottom lip. He seemed to get the hint, since he parted his lips to let you in. With your arms around his neck, you kissed him deeply. He kissed you deeply.
At this very moment, there was nothing else in the world that wasn’t you and Changbin. The only thing that mattered was him and you in his nest, slowly getting your mouths acquainted with one another.
You didn’t know how long you spent right there, but you also didn’t care. By the time the moon had moved around in the sky and left you in partial darkness in Changbin’s den, you could already feel him poking your stomach.
The feeling of him, hard against your belly, set your insides alight.
You’d known for a long time, you’d been trying to ignore it, but you couldn’t do that any longer… You really wanted Changbin. Carnally. Like you’d want any other person.
His hands… His big, warm hands roamed your back, your rear, your thighs… It was like he wanted to make sure no part of your body was left untouched–at least the ones he currently had access to over your clothes. The kiss was turning sloppier and sloppier by the second, and, in no time, low bellows were resonating from Changbin’s chest.
It was just when you carded your fingers through his hair that he stiffened, fixing his hands on your waist and gripping you tightly to stop the grind of your hips you hadn’t even realised you’d started doing. 
When had he laid on his back? When had you straddled his waist? You were so lost in your kiss you hadn’t even noticed…
He pulled back fully, offering you an apologetic look while he brought his thumb to your bottom lip and swiped it over the swollen skin.
“Someone’s entered the Labyrinth…” Changbin mumbled, so quietly you wouldn’t have heard him if you hadn’t been so close.
You pouted sadly, but nodded in understanding. With one final peck on his lips, you finally rolled off of him and onto the plush nest, where you curled into yourself as you watched him get up.
Changbin bent down to kiss your forehead. He brushed his textured nose tenderly against yours for a moment, just before he threw your makeshift blanket over your body.
“I’ll be back in a few days. Hm?”
You simply nodded again, feeling your eyes growing heavier as sleep started to cling to your muscles. 
After one final smile, Changbin finally turned around and made his way out of his den. 
You couldn’t help but sneak a glance at him before he left, and, Gods… You really, really wanted him…
As you let your hand find its way between your legs, and even in your sleepy state, you couldn’t help but fully come face to face with the realisation that you wanted him, more than you’d ever wanted anyone else before.
With the tingles of pleasure you were coaxing from your centre that spread to all of your limbs, your mind wandered, trying to figure out just how you could… take him.
You had to find a way. You were determined to find a way.
You didn’t know how you’d do it, but you were certain you would.
Eventually, you would.
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Changbin was taking longer than usual to come back from his last outing, and it was starting to worry you.
The first couple of days went by as usual. You washed any garments of clothing you’d collected over time, you tended to any of Changbin’s friends–meaning, the birds that would come from the surface–whenever they dropped by, or you simply spent it brainstorming all the possible ways in which you could pleasure such a monstrous cock.
Not only that, but how you could get pleasure from that monstrous cock. Because you were set on making the most of it. Gone were the days in which you shied away from your desires. You were a living being with needs, and if you couldn’t fulfil those needs with a literal giant half-bull, half-man creature, you were sure you wouldn’t have been able to do it with anyone else.
Besides, though, you didn’t want anyone else. 
And it wasn’t the fact that you were living in the Labyrinth and couldn’t even meet other human beings. What you felt for Changbin was something you’d never felt before. You genuinely cared about him… You cared a lot.
Which was why, by the fifth day he hadn’t returned to the den, you had bitten all ten of your nails almost to the flesh.
Where was he?
You were convinced it was pretty much impossible for him to get lost inside the Labyrinth, but what if he had?
Or worse…
What if whoever had been dropped in here hurt him?
What if he was hurt and you couldn’t help him?
Oh, Gods… 
What if he was dead?
Your chest felt heavy, you could barely breathe… What would you do without Changbin? You could definitely survive with all the resources you had here, but the question was… did you want to?
What was the point of staying alive inside the Labyrinth without him?
You wanted to cry just thinking about it. 
Tears were pricking your eyes, and it felt like your throat was closing up. 
At least, until…
Thump…
Thump…
Thump…
Thump…
You pretty much jumped from where you’d been sitting on the floor, sprinted out of the den and into the corridor. At this point, you could recognise Changbin’s heavy steps like your own heartbeat.
Looking left and right, you were unsure where exactly he was coming from, since the echo seemed to be coming from every direction. After a few moments of panic, you finally saw him to your left, so you ran.
You barely heard him saying your name when you were close, you were too focused on getting to him. When you buried your face in his stomach, he immediately started to caress your hair.
“Shh, hey…” He mumbled, dropping whatever he had in his free hand so he could press his palm on your back. “Don’t cry”.
You were sobbing, and you hadn’t even realised it until he had pointed it out.
When you pulled away, you could barely see him through your blurry vision. With one of his knuckles, he gently wiped the tears running down your cheeks.
It was only then that you noticed them, the cuts and gashes that littered his whole torso. The sight had adrenaline rushing into your body immediately.
“Oh, my dear Gods! What happened to you?!”
“Kid was resilient”, was all he said when he pulled himself away from your hold. He bent down–with seemingly great effort–and took the bag that he’d dropped on the ground. “C’mon, need to… to lay down. Will tell you everything after…”
You took the bag from him immediately, and wrapped your free hand around one of his fingers to gently tug him forward–as if that would do anything…
It took several minutes for both of you to reach the den once again. As soon as you were inside, Changbin pretty much collapsed on the ground, and started instructing you to bring him all sorts of herbs from his garden along with some fresh water.
You got to work, following Changbin’s directions to clean him up, apply the freshly chewed mix of leaves on the open wounds, and dress them with whichever extra pieces of fabric you could find laying around. As you did this, he told you about the young man that had entered the Labyrinth. 
Apparently, he was skilled enough to not only hurt Changbin, but also to essentially defeat him.
“All these years, no one has ever come this close to killing me…”
The concept of Changbin being killed made your heart ache, but you pushed the feeling away as you tried to focus on the task at hand, as well as to continue listening to him. 
The young man had spared him. He’d told Changbin that he’d come into the Labyrinth out of his own free will because he was looking for something. 
“Told him I’d help him find it if he let me live”, Changbin said once you’d finished dressing his wounds and he’d finally laid down on your nest.
“And? Did you?” You asked as you gathered two heavy jugs of fresh water to bring them to him. After all, two jugs were pretty much two glasses of water for him…
Changbin drank both jugs one after the other, each one in one gulp, offering a quiet ‘Thank you’ before he answered your question. “Yeah. Pointed him in the right direction, told him how to find the way to the spot he was looking for…”
You laid down next to him, and snuggled yourself as close as you could. Changbin pulled you even closer, and only then did he seem to fully relax, practically melting into your nest.
“He wanted me to go with him… But I was too hurt”, he mumbled against your hair, sounding just so incredibly tired. “Also… I had to come home. Needed to be here with you…”
You felt tears well in your eyes again. Holding him tight–being careful to not apply too much pressure on his wounds–you craned your neck, just so you could press a lingering kiss on his cheek.
Changbin exhaled a shaky breath with the motion, and, after pressing a few more pecks on his skin, you finally laid your head on his chest.
“Welcome home…” The words came out of your mouth as barely a whisper, mostly because you didn’t trust your voice right now. You were already feeling your whole body trembling as the tears started to fall again.
Changbin held you tight, pressing a final kiss on the crown of your head.
“Missed you, tiny human…” was the last thing to come out of his mouth before he passed out.
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Caring for an injured giant was easier than you had expected it to be. Although, you’d admit that helping him wash up was a bit hard.
Not because you had to provide any sort of support when he got into a pond or anything like that, but mostly because Changbin insisted that he needed you in there with him.
He got extra whiny about it, but you didn’t let him coax you into it. Not because you didn’t want to, but because, if you did get naked with him in the water, you knew you’d get distracted and his wounds could suffer the consequences.
After a few days, he seemed to have regained most of his strength, and the cuts scattered over his body were healing nicely. Even then, he kept insisting he needed you to help him.
“If you want to see me naked, just say so”, you couldn’t hold that back any longer. The words just flew past your lips, and you knew they’d had the desired effect as soon as you saw the pink tint on his cheeks.
“I don’t–I mean, I do, but it’s not–” He was tumbling over his words, and it was absolutely adorable. 
You stood up from where you’d been sitting cross-legged by the edge of the pond, and started toying with the belt of your chiton. He went quiet immediately, and his eyes zeroed in on the way you played with the fabric between your fingertips.
“Do you want to see me naked, Changbin?”
He blinked slowly for a moment, and his ears flickered cutely. “Maybe…”
“Maybe?” You untied the knot, and the garment immediately loosened.
You saw him swallow. His gaze remained fixed on your belt, like he was trying to somehow make it disappear completely. 
“Changbin?” You called him again, and his eyes snapped back up to meet yours, giving you his undivided attention. “Do you want to?”
Changbin stared at you for a moment before he nodded. That tiny movement, coupled with the light blush on his cheeks made you feel… empowered. Which was something you had never really felt before in this context.
You’d heard other people tell you about it, you’d read about it in the romance novels you used to read, but you had never truly experienced it. That feeling, coupled with how pliant a literal giant like Changbin got when you so much hinted at being naked, filled you with confidence.
So you removed your clothes, and slowly, you went into the pond.
Changbin was sitting on the ground, which made it so you were almost at eye level with him. You could practically feel his eyes all over your body, leaving an almost searing sensation on your skin. 
When you finally stood in front of him, his hands found your waist. Changbin pulled you closer, so your bodies could be flush to each other. With your arms around his neck, you leaned in for a kiss.
He held you tightly, but gently. You knew he was well aware of his strength, and you knew he liked to be careful so as to not hurt you, which you certainly appreciated.
When you pulled back from the kiss, Changbin brushed your nose against yours, making you giggle. As usual, it was moist, but you didn’t mind.
“You’re pretty”, he whispered the words against your shoulder, where he was pressing lingering kisses on your skin–being extra careful not to poke you with his horns.
“And you’re very handsome”, you replied simply, because it was the truth. Months ago, you hadn’t even known someone like him could exist, and here you were now, absolutely smitten by what most would consider an oddity.
“You think so?” He mumbled absentmindedly, dragging his hands all over your back. His large hands…
“Mm… I do think so”.
He pulled away so he could look at you. A smile had spread across his face, making his eyes turn into little crescents. It always made your heart flutter whenever he smiled, and it was certainly a contagious gesture.
Changbin kissed your cheek once, twice, thrice more, before he was speaking again. 
“Y’know… I haven’t… I’ve never…” He sighed, frowning before he shook his head and started all over again. “Want to make you feel good, but I don’t know how”.
Your eyes widened a bit. Not because you didn’t know that he wouldn’t know how to make you feel good, but because he seemed to genuinely care about it.
“I can show you”, you caressed his shoulders briefly before you cupped his cheeks. “Then you can show me how to make you feel good, hm?”
Changbin nodded, rather enthusiastically, and it made you smile.
“There are… many places you can touch to make me feel good”, you dragged your hands down his arms, until you reached his hands and pulled them away from your back. “For example, here…”
You brought his hands to your chest, and he reflexively squeezed the flesh. “That feels nice, but… touch here”.
Taking a hold of one of his fingers, you guided it to your nipple. The rough pad of his fingertip dragging over the sensitive skin immediately had a shiver running up and down your spine. 
He seemed to catch on very quickly, because the moment you let go of his hands, he immediately started to stimulate your chest. Between his motions and the cool water around you, your nipples stiffened further, and the first whimper came out of your mouth.
Changbin looked at you for a moment, like he was unsure if he had done something wrong, so you immediately reassured him.
“That’s good… Feels good”.
“Feels good?” He asked, adding a bit more pressure.
You nodded in confirmation, and then took a hold of his wrists. “Pinch them harder between your fingers”.
“Don’t wanna hurt you, though”, he sounded genuinely worried about it, which would’ve made you heart melt in other circumstances, but in these circumstances, you needed him to give you all he had–or, at least, all you could stand.
“Do it gradually, I’ll let you know ‘til when. Trust me?”
Changbin nodded, and immediately obliged. As soon as he reached the pressure that was just perfect, you let him know–in quite possibly the most desperate tone you’d ever mustered.
Your lips were on his thereafter. He tugged and pulled and stimulated your nipples in ways that had you moaning into his mouth, that seemed to be coaxing inhuman noises from deep within him.
Your centre was throbbing, desperate for some attention, so you pulled away from the kiss. You were met with Changbin’s blown pupils and flushed cheeks, a sight so incredibly delectable you started to seriously entertain the impossible. Would he fit…?
“Here, too”, you took a hold of one of his hands and brought it between your thighs, giving him enough space to manoeuvre. “You feel that bump?”
When the pad of his finger made contact with your clit you almost jolted in place, but you tried to stay focused as best as you could. 
“Rub in circles. Gently”.
He complied, following the same motions as before, increasing the speed and pressure until you told him exactly how you liked it to be. 
It all became a blur of moans and pants and bellows… All you could feel was the pleasure coursing through your body and Changbin’s warmth all around you. His teeth, his tongue, his lips, his fingers… He was working you up diligently, bringing you closer to the edge.
“So good…” You whimpered against his lips, just before your tongues were intertwined again.
Changbin nodded, almost mindlessly. 
When you’d finally reached your climax, you did so with his name on your tongue. Repeating it over and over again like it was the only word you knew in this world.
You’d found pleasure on your own many, many times, but it’d never felt like this. You weren’t sure if it was the weight of your feelings for him, or if it’d been the thrill of having this experience with Changbin for the first time, but the way that orgasm seemed to be consuming every single one of your senses was absolutely mind-blowing.
He didn’t stop working you up until you asked him to. As soon as he did, you wrapped your arms around his neck and leaned your weight on him for support. Changbin held you tightly, lovingly caressing your back and pressing kisses on your shoulder as you caught your breath.
“Prettiest sounds I’ve ever heard…” He mumbled against your skin, and it made you laugh.
You felt light, like tonnes had just been lifted off of your shoulders. When you pulled away, you cupped his cheeks, and started peppering kisses all over his face, which made him giggle. So adorably you felt your heart swell in your chest.
“Now…” With one final kiss on his lips, you placed your hands on his chest, squishing the soft muscle. “You show me”.
A smirk made its way onto his lips, and after taking one of your hands, he moved it away from his chest to let it sink further underwater, until it met the warm, smooth skin of his length. He left your other hand on his chest, but instead of just letting it rest there, he guided your fingers to one of his nipples so you could gently rub your fingertip against it and play with the jewellery.
“I’ll show you”, he emphasised his words by using his hand to coax your hold around his cock to tighten. Your fingers didn’t even meet as you held him, and the thought, along with the feel, made you feel dizzy with arousal. “Will show you anything. Everything…”
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‘You think this could… fit you?’ Changbin had shyly asked you a couple of weeks ago, when he offered you one of the silver hoops he usually wore on one of his horns. Where he got the idea to do that was beyond you, but it honestly didn’t matter, it made you giddy all the same.
It did fit–as an armlet, at least. It was purely material and maybe even a bit vain, but having this item on you at all times simply made you feel tingly. It made your heart swell in your chest and it had butterflies fluttering in your belly.
It felt significant, in a way. Kind of like… like your own version of a wedding band.
In the past, you had never been excited about being a bride, or about being someone’s wife. But you realised things could change. 
Changbin had certainly changed you. You would’ve never imagined that your death sentence would be the thing to actually help you feel alive, and yet, that was exactly what had happened to you. 
Did you sometimes have bouts of fury and rage because of how unfair everything that you’d gone through had been?
Yes.
Did you want all those officials to die a very painful death for judging you the way they did?
Also yes.
But at least, here, you found your place. You found love.
Because you loved Changbin. Horns and tail and hooves and all. Even with his annoyingly big cock that you knew you’d never be able to fit inside you without tearing you in half, even then, you loved him. Truly. 
It took only a visit from that young man he had encountered months ago for you to fully realise it.
He’d appeared out of nowhere, on a random day. Changbin had put himself between you and the young man, but the boy wasn’t a real threat, he’d come just to ask for help to find something else within the Labyrinth.
It was over supper that he’d talked to you, right there in front of Changbin. 
‘Don’t you want to go back to the surface? I know a way out…’
You could still remember how Changbin’s tail started to thrash anxiously behind him, but he didn’t say anything. He’d just fixed his eyes on the floor, slowly chewing his food. He didn’t interrupt or even attempt to divert the conversation. Back then, at least to you, it felt like he was getting ready to accept whichever decision you took.
‘Why would I go back? This is my home. There’s nothing up there for me’.
And when you’d said it, you truly meant it.
This was your home… but it wasn’t the Labyrinth.
It was all Changbin.
You’d wandered the Labyrinth together for a few days after that, helping that young man look for the mysterious artefact he needed. It’d been an adventure for sure…
When you were back in your cosy den after that little adventure, Changbin had given you the thick hoop, your armlet. You’d gotten so used to wearing it, you sometimes forgot you had it on.
At least, until you caught a glimpse of it in your peripheral vision, like you did just now. Somehow, the reminder of its existence further fed the fire that was burning bright in the pit of your stomach. 
The feel of Changbin’s hands on your hips, gripping you tightly–as tight as he knew your body could handle–made you moan. The feel of him, hard and warm against your folds had your mind all fogged up and hazy, especially when he was under you like this, guiding the movement of your hips to increase the pressure of your centre grinding against his bare length, trapping it between your core and his abdomen.
“Mmm… fuck…” He whined under his breath, staring at the place your bodies connected, at the way your slick cunt dragged against his cock.
You nodded in agreement, rather eagerly, because you couldn’t bring yourself to say anything. Not when the way you were essentially humping him felt this incredibly good.
With your hands on his chest, both for support and so you could play with his nipples in just the way he loved so much, you chased that sweet, sweet relief that’d been steadily growing closer to you since you sat on him however long ago. The pressure on your clit was just absolutely perfect like this, especially when he was pushing you down and assisting your own movement.
“Changbin, darling, I’m… fuck, want to…” You could barely speak, but you knew he understood you perfectly, because he had you moving faster, he pushed you down harder, making your eyes roll to the back of your head.
Before you knew it, you were trembling with your release. The only thing keeping you from collapsing was Changbin’s tight hold, but you still tried your best to keep moving, to keep providing him with as much pleasure as you could.
With a broken plea of your name, the first of many shots of thick cum spouted from the tip of his cock. The results of his orgasm’s were, of course, proportional to his size. He always seemed to produce bucket-loads of cum whenever he came, drenching his whole torso, and you in the process.
Changbin looked so, so pretty like this. Flushed, whining, bellowing, desperately rutting into you to make the most out of his release. You didn’t care that you were close to the point of oversensitivity, you just wanted to continue seeing him like this for as long as it lasted.
When the final spurt of cum landed on his abdomen, the tight grip he had on your hips loosened. The lack of his support made it so that you simply collapsed on top of him, gasping for air. 
Oh, how fulfilling it was to hear his increased heartbeat against your ear, to feel his warm cum sticking to you…
You both laid there for a moment, just enjoying the feel of one another and catching your breaths. 
Changbin had to act a bit quickly after coming, though. Otherwise his cock would retreat into its sheath covered in his drying cum, which could not only become a gross mess, but also cause him real, painful problems the next time he got hard.
So as soon as he regained his strength, he was moving, carrying you in his arms and getting you both inside the nearest pond to get cleaned up. 
You always helped him, of course. Just like he helped you.
Getting to bathe each other felt intimate, like a bonding experience, so you enjoyed it. 
You barely spoke to each other during these moments. You just took the time to further enjoy the other’s body in a more profound way. 
It wasn’t until you were out of that pond, dry, in a fresh set of clothes, and huddled together in your cosy nest that he was finally speaking again.
“I really like it when we do it like that…” He mumbled against your hair, softly dragging his fingertips on your back.
You chuckled softly, pressing a soft peck on his collarbone. “Is it better than when you fuck my thighs?”
Changbin inhaled sharply, placing his free hand on your bum. “It’s different. It’s easier to come together this way”. 
You hummed, smiling in amusement at the comment. 
There was silence for a while, but you knew he was awake. If he hadn’t been, the soft caresses on your back would’ve stopped already.
The armlet shone in your peripheral vision, and you were reminded once again that this was your home. That you belonged here.
“Changbin?”
He hummed to let you know he was listening, not stopping the movement of his hands.
“Why didn’t you kill me when you found me wandering the Labyrinth?”
Changbin was quiet for a while, until he nuzzled your hair before he placed a kiss on the top of your head. 
“I recognised your voice”, he replied simply. “You fed my friends. You didn’t have to, but you did it anyway. They always appreciated it, and I couldn’t help but appreciate it, too”.
You pulled yourself away from his hold a bit, enough to look him in the eyes. “Can you imagine if I’d never spoken in the forest? Or if I never fed the birds? You would’ve eaten me”.
He frowned. “Don’t wanna think about that. Besides, you did do it. Why think about the past like that?”
You smiled at him, just before you pressed a quick peck on his lips.
As you buried your face further in the crook of his neck, and started to feel the pull of sleep on your body, you figured Changbin was right.
There was no point in thinking about the past. No point in dwelling on the what-ifs. The only thing that mattered was the present, and the future you hoped to have with him here, in your home.
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Author’s Note x2: i came into this expecting this story to be nothing but filth and a horny mess, not... whatever this ended up being. it definitely didn’t go the way i thought it was going to go when i had originally read that ask, but, y’know… the little lizard in my brain just does whatever it wants. i’m happy with it, and, if you made it this far, i hope you enjoyed it, too.  especial thanks to @notastraykid and @channieskies for reading this before anyone else and for giving me their valuable opinions and suggestions.
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roseglazedlens · 5 months
Text
⦑ seeking the light ⦒ ✧.*
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NANAMI KENTO X FEM! READER SYNOPSIS: Nanami receives his final wish before passing, with you by his side in Kuantan, Malaysia. CONTENT: character death. SMUT MDNI. S2E18. hurt/comfort, unprotected p in v, oral (f! receiving), body worship (lots), missionary, slow sex, light choking, pet names (darling). briefly mentions haibara, gojo. A/N: nanami girlies, hope you guys are recovering (i am still struggling rn)... sending you all hugs and a care package. « 3.3 k words | masterlist | ao3 | reblogs appreciated! »
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A body moves on its own accord in its nature to protect. For Nanami, it comes with a cost this time. Even now, at his final breath, even when his numbed, scorched body pleads otherwise, fractured beyond repairable, Nanami chooses someone else’s life over his. There isn’t a doubt about this choice in his mind. All this fighting, all this suffering, this sacrifice—it was for someone worthwhile. For a generation with bright futures ahead of them, not meant for battles like these.
Nanami doesn’t see his act as a virtuous gesture. After all, this is his job, and protecting children is his duty. Perhaps part of him thinks he a coward to stand compliantly and let Mahito end his life, taking the easy way out.
His only regret—not being able to say goodbye to you. Even when all that remains is a silver of consciousness, you are his last memory. He thinks about how you are praying and waiting for his safe return at home, hating himself for not being able to give you the simplest things in life.
“Nanamin…”
In his hazy mist, he hears Itadori’s voice. Lost of vigor, echoing through the isolated platform of Shibuya station with the two of them burrowed deep in this mess. Poor child, he’s about to cry. That’s not a good look on a young man like him.
“Itadori-kun… You’ve got it from here.”
His eyelids are forced to close as the pain becomes unbearable, embracing the cold blackness behind his eyes.
But in that darkness, Nanami isn’t alone.
Rays of light catches up to him, scorching the path ahead of him: burning, igniting, freeing. It illuminates a straight road that leads him into the end of darkness. Nanami had never seen this road in his life, but when he did just now, for some reason, an overwhelming urge makes him walk down this path.
As he tries to walk, something behind his ear cries out his name, asking him to close his eyes once more. Something in him obliges to do so.
.
..
“Kento?” Someone calls out.
There are sounds of children giggling away, adults conversing casually in another language accompanied by tunes from local street performances. And most prominently, Nanami hears the waves, rhythmically resonates when it crashes against the shore. He blinks open his eyes.
Light sharply enters his sight, wincing, shielding his face with a risen hand. A shadowed figure stands in front of his sight, slowly becoming apparent as his eyes adjust to the light.
And it’s you, clutching a smile on your face. Your hair catches sun streaks in beachy strands, cheeks sparkle with sand speckles that illuminates your face in some kind of holy light. The clouds, voices and shore freeze when you giggle in your own little world.
“Darling...?” He speaks hollowly as if this is just a memory, fearing that it is, that means it’s all over for real. “Where—am I?”
The world moves again, sounds beginning to rise up into murmured chatter, and his gaze raises in line with the horizon where the sky meets the sea, looking into the deep blue beyond.
“By the beach, sleepyhead. The book’s no good?” You giggle once more, but this time the world doesn’t stop with you.
Nanami has a finger prop up a page in an opened book. He finds himself wearing a tropical button up and pants sitting on an inflatable chair with sand between his toes. “I guess not.”
He doesn’t remember when he got here or how he got here. But Nanami knows exactly where this place is. A famous beach in the east coast of Kuantan, Malaysia—Teluk Cempedak. He saw this view on a magazine once and told himself he would travel here on his day off. That was two years ago. So this is what it looks like in person?
“Did I sleep for long?” He asks.
“Long enough for me to get the both of us something to eat.” You say as you pass an ice cream cone to him. He turns to grab it, and when he does, Nanami’s neck snaps to the seat next to him. A monkey sits comfortably by his side with its grin stretched wide, surprising him so much he drops the ice cream onto the hot sand.
Nanami hears a few tiny click of shutters as both the monkey and you giggle in unison. The camera lens point directly at him.
“You got me. Very funny now.” Nanami sighs, but behind that irritated frown, there is a smile that he reserves only in your presence.
On cue, the monkey reaches over you as you try to enjoy your ice cream, snatches it off your hands, and escapes across the beach.
The two of you stand in shock for a moment, staring at each other, before bursting into quiet smirks and giggles. When the laughter subsides, Nanami brings you close, landing a kiss on your soft lips. He sees his own reflection in the glaze of your eyes, and he realises he haven’t seen himself so carefree in a long time, especially not since he went to Shibuya.
“So, does that mean you won’t make me delete the photos?”
“Since I’m in a good mood, I’ll let you keep it this time.” He says, then corrects himself as you light up. “As long as Gojo doesn’t get his hands on it.”
“What’s he going to do with a picture or two?” You play with your phone, nervously fumbling the screen.
“Knowing that guy, blackmail. Probably.”
“Well… please don’t get mad at me.”
That is when something dings in his pocket consecutively. He reaches for his phone, and he sees the name Gojo Satoru on his screen, spamming rows of laughing emojis.
“I’m sorry! Gojo already saved it. I can’t unsend it anymore.” You whisper, retreating with your head hang low.
Nanami sighs again, but this time with forgiveness. It doesn’t matter to Nanami anyway. Small things doesn’t matter when he’s with you. He kisses your lips to reassure you. “That’s okay. You’re okay. I’m not really upset.”
And it is at this moment, you can hear a roar of music in the background. Some local nostalgic tune, even if he had never heard this song before. Nanami’s feet taps to the beat of rhythm, and an idea surfaces in his head.
“My lady.” He stands to lean his torso into you, mesmerizingly gentleman. “May I have this dance?”
You hesitate at first, an onslaught of eyes staring at his bold gesture in the middle of a fairly crowded beach. Nanami looks up at you, his drooping eyelids and focused gaze only makes him ever the more persuasive. His charms can’t be denied. Reluctantly, you reach for his hand.
Nanami immediately pulls you in to a dance. Jiving through the sand forming love trails with your bare feet, letting the humid wind sweep and sway through the air. He spins you with a raised hand, and when you do, you notice the many pair of eyes on you, momentarily embarrassed.
“They’re watching, Kento…” You whisper.
“Let them watch.” He whispers back into your ear.
It starts with lively children weaving through the crowd to find the lone couple dancing. They punch their fists clumsily in the air, people cheering and awwing, and suddenly, more people joins, forming a circle. Dancing without any concern of the world. A conga line forms, and the crowd livens in cheers and chants when the two of you leaves the dance circle.
“Look what you’ve done.” You say.
“You know I am only charming when I’m not at work.”
He picks up his phone, finding almost ten texts from Gojo with his face Photoshopped in different memes. You laugh at some of them, even though Nanami seem annoyed. He powers down his phone before you get to see more, in case it gives you any ideas.  
“That’s it. No more work texts on vacation. This trip is about us, and I’ll make sure you have a great time.”
And so he did. He took you to the best curry mee in town, and you had a sip of your teh tarik while overlooking onto the tide. He teases you with a tired loving smile over how you gawk at your food as you eat the kampung delicacies. Something you two would never have eaten in Japan, or Denmark, when he brings you home to meet his grandfather—and shows you that he intends to marry you.
But that’s not just all of his plans. Kuantan has much bigger delights than just the countryside; you took a taxi to all these places that Nanami briefly saw in a magazine. He tries painting batiks (and finds out it’s harder than it looks), walking and admiring local vendors, shop displays until it’s time for dinner again and you had the loveliest Nyonya style seafood that fuses between two cultures.
As the sun sets, there is one final spot Nanami wants to take you. You see the big Kuantan sign as you take a high speed elevator all the way to the top of the Skydeck. And it’s just you and him alone in the breeze of the night, watching streets light up with traffic, illuminating into the same horizon as before.
“Thank you for making my last day memorable.” He speaks into the deep dark sky, not a moon or star in sight.
And at that moment, you know he realises that none of this is real. That his body—or whatever’s left of it—is still back at Shibuya. But for whatever reason, even when he knows he’s already dead, Nanami is smiling. His blond hair reminds you of the moon hanging high in the sky, shining brighter than any spark of light on the streets.
“Mm-hm.” You reply, no other words needed.
Nanami’s arms come around your waist, pulling you close to him, until your bodies connect as one. He leans his head on top of yours, and breathes in your scent, your bashful reciprocation, and all of you that he will most definitely miss.
“Hey.” Nanami says, barely louder than a cricket. “I have one last request.”
“Yeah?”
“I want to taste you one last time.”
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The two of you scramble through the linoleum flooring, giggling through the hotel lobby as you share private jokes between each other without a care for the world. Passerbys wonder: ‘I wonder if they’re on a honeymoon’. And it doesn’t matter if it’s the beginning or many nights, or the end of them, your love for each other remains just as passionate.
When Nanami touches the key pass against his door, you try to push him in while he’s distracted, but he smirks at your boldness, but ultimately he turns you around to kiss you instead. He likes how you try even if it always ends with him turning the tables on you, kissing you while his whole body pins you against the hard wall.
He kisses you with the same fervour as he did the first night you spent together in the bedroom, and even after many years together, that doesn’t change.
Nanami helps you out of your clothes, one article at a time, savouring the look of you with each piece undressed, until you lay stark naked in front of him. He removes his glasses to place them against a bedside table, then he gets to work.
Guiding you to plop your hips onto the edge of the bed, Nanami positions himself on his knees to face you. He nudges your legs to open first, and he can’t help but fall in love again with how beautiful you look down there. His instinct is to put your bud in his mouth, and a cold rush of shiver frights you on your lower body. Your fingers curl slightly in reaction to his forwardness.
“Sorry to keep you waiting. I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” Nanami smirks, kissing on your clit a few more times before his tongue peeks out, tasting at your delicate bud. He does that for a few minutes, varying the intensity and speed to edge you until it fizzes your lower body. Occasionally, if he thinks you sound cute, he’ll impress you by pressing down his tongue on your clit that makes your fingers curl and uncurl over and over. “You like this?” Nanami asks innocently.
Oh, he knows that you do. But of course, Nanami likes hearing you confess his charms from your own mouth.
“Kento…” You lower your voice. “I love everything you do. That goes without saying.”  
He hums, satisfied by your obedience.
“Now do th-that thing you always d-do, please…”
“As you wish, darling.”
Nanami loves to satisfy you, loves to obey you and make him yours. He takes your bud in his mouth, his tongue inside, circling along your clit while his middle finger dips in your wet coated slit. Long finger curls to meet your g-spot with ease, moving only his last knuckle on his hand so he can repeatedly rap at your sensitive spot until your whole body feels drowned in your own pleasure.
“Oh god…”
His tongue darts out in quick succession, letting the needy bud smack against the tip of his tongue until it grows swollen and sensitive to the touch. Nanami wonders if you are enjoying yourself until he hears a weak noise, back arching, cunt pulsing as the pleasure lightly tips you off the edge like a gentle ripple.
“H-Hey, that’s enough.” You say through huffed breaths.
“Five more minutes.” Nanami says, his breath just as uneasy.
You hesitate. “One.”
“Fine by me.”
Every passing of his tongue on you can’t seem to satiate him, he laps at your taste over and over again. Until foams of saliva bubble over your wet clit and you are soaking under his finger. His chin coats wet with you, with how delicious you are, but he doesn’t mind one bit of the mess. Taking his time is his priority.
“Nnh.” Just like he promised, almost sixty seconds later, he parts himself away through a throaty huff, withdrawing himself to lick his lips clean and wiping streaks of drool from his face with the back of his wrist.
Nanami moves in quickly for another kiss on your lips, and you respond with equal enthusiasm. He shuffles you backwards to accommodate him to enter the bed, lips bound together through the awkward motions. Naturally, you prop your legs on top of his thighs, and you feel his length taking advantage of you without obstructions, closing the distance until his tip meets you at your entrance.
He guides your torso flat against the bed through the firm pad of his palm, pressing them up form your pelvis all the way to your belly, your chest, your collarbone…
He stops moving. “How hard do you want it this time?”
“Hard.”
“As you wish, my darling.”
His left hand continues upwards to find your neck, curling around the circumference of your neck. Some pressure is applied, and you roll your eyes back. Gentle at first, until you’re comfortable with his hand, he settles his tip inside of you. Quiet grunts leave his body as he puts you in missionary, overcome by the need to probe at you further until he feels all of himself buried.
But he restrains, for your sake. Nanami knows, with his size, bottoming out in one go only hurts you more. So he takes his time when he does so, easing himself in and fucks you with the intent to make eternal love, letting him continue this dreamlike state that will soon come to an end.
“You’re gorgeous…” He grunts, simply gazing at you, into your heart and into your soul. You do the same, admiring all his worn-out features relax like creased fabric undoing in the presence of you.
Nanami blinks away a watery glimmer between the speckles of his eyes, hoping you didn’t see it even though you did, and moves again.
Throughout the whole time, he only wants to stare at you, think of you through the burning sensation in his body that continues to remind him his time is almost up. But that doesn’t deter him, in fact, it only makes him want to take as long as the both of you need with no urge to climax hastily.
Each part of this is an experience, one final pleasure before the curse of reality hits them. You, in front of him, probably isn’t real. But it feels so real. It feels like Nanami has been granted his final wish. You, and this lovely scenery.
Soft, sensual pulses throb below you in a flowing state, crashing like the low tide on the evening beach, just like the view outside your fancy hotel window. Until the orgasm comes, in due time, through the labour of his efforts. How Nanami comes down to kiss you in gratitude as come spills inside of you, and the both of you grin into the kiss.
As you snuggle under the sheets next to Nanami, he brings his arm around your belly, grazing, pressing, worshipping—that this is the last time his hands will feel the warm plush again.
“I don’t want this night to over.” You mumble weakly.
He pulls you in with a hand that weighs a thousand of thoughts in his mind.
“I know, darling. I know.”
He sees himself in your eyes for the final time. Looking through the clearness, Nanami’s real body, burned and bruised on one half. Yet you still look at him with eyes that would stay by his side forever.
But this is not your time yet.
You blink back the tears, a rainfall along your cheek. He brushes it away with a look of yearning.
“Promise me you’ll have a good life, darling.”
You nod, unable to say anything else, knowing the tears will return if you do. Between you two, no words are needed. He can read you, and you can read him without any words uttered. Reaching for his jaw at first, you graze your fingers along Nanami’s cheek, and rests his eyes to a close. He mouths something inaudibly in his sleep before he departs.
You do the same, but he can’t see you.
...
..
.
Nanami opens his eyes in the middle of nowhere. He fell asleep at a bus stop sitting afloat above the sea’s surface. He sees now, the same path as before, ablaze above the sea levels, leading into the horizon where the sun falls into evening glory. At the start of the road, stands a figure.
Yooo, Nanamin. There you are!
The blinding lights on the path dims when the figure takes big, energised strides towards Nanami. Upon closer inspection, it’s a man in uniform. He has a distinct lean of someone he used to know a long time ago.
“Haibara?” Nanami asks.
Long time no see, bud. You don’t have to suffer anymore.
What is this feeling? Overwhelming pain, or relief when meeting a long, lost friend? There is so much Nanami wants to say he doesn’t know where to begin.
That he should have been stronger ten years ago, should have rescued Haibara in a battle beyond both their abilities even though he was just a kid. How he spent the rest of his life repenting, dedicating himself to protect the children who didn’t deserve to be in war. How he tried and failed and made it here…
… but none of that matters anymore after death.
Nanami jumps into his arms, bringing Haibara into his tight embrace. He hugs back. Nanami closes his eyes when he feels a sting behind his cheeks, then opens it again with newfound determination. Haibara bellows a laugh, pointing at Nanami’s reddened eyes which he fails to rub away.
Let’s head on to the other side, shall we?
Nanami nods. And they walk forward, side by side, towards the end of the path. He knows it’s all going to be all okay.
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thanks for reading! come check out my other works. —yours truly, rose. ITINERARY: > Teluk Cempedak > Lunch (Hoi Yin Restaurant) > Dessert (Kula Cakes - not mentioned) > Natural Batik Village (batik painting) > Kuantan 188 Skydeck taglist (open): @valsthea @kennedyswhore @emilzke @daydreamrot @navstuffs @j3llyd0nut @ovaryacted © roseglazedlens — please do not repost, plagiarise, or use in ai & other machine learning programs.
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In 2017 I interviewed Bernadette Wren, then head of psychology at the Tavistock Gids clinic, and asked what effect puberty blocking drugs have on the adolescent brain. Looking highly uncomfortable, she replied that the evidence so far was only anecdotal but that the clinic would study its patients “well into their adult lives so that we can see”.
Even back then, before whistleblowers had exposed the rush to medically transition children, it was alarming to hear that heavy-duty GnRH agonists such as triptorelin — used to treat advanced prostate cancer and “chemically castrate” sex offenders — were being prescribed to arrest puberty in hundreds of children as young as 11.
Moreover, they were being used “off-label” before any clinical trials. And the long-term study Wren promised never materialised: Gids (the Gender Identity Development Service) routinely lost touch with patients, and the 44 it did follow reported little long-term mental health improvement.
This shocking chapter in medical history, where the ideological objectives of trans rights campaigners trumped the welfare of disturbed children, is coming to an end worldwide. The decision by NHS England effectively to ban the prescription of puberty blockers comes after the Cass review noted these drugs could “permanently disrupt” brain development, reduce bone density and lock children into a regime of cross-sex hormones requiring life-long patienthood.
NHS England unites with other national health services including those in Finland, France, Sweden and, most notably, the Netherlands — where the “Dutch protocol”, a regime of early blockers then hormones, was devised in 1998 — in pulling back from prescribing them.
Even in the United States, where a toxic combination of extreme activism and medical capitalism has pushed child gender medicine to grotesque extremes, with double mastectomies performed on 14-year-old girls, there is some retrenchment.
Leaks from the World Professional Association for Transgender Health, the body which formulates guidance on “trans healthcare”, reveal doctors perplexed at how they should explain to an 11-year-old child that drugs will render them infertile. Crucially, liberal media such as The New York Times are now reporting grave medical misgivings about child transition, once dismissed as a culture-war issue for the Republican right.
Yet the question remains: how was this ever allowed to happen? For years, puberty blockers were cheerily billed as a mere “pause button”. In 2014, Dr Polly Carmichael, the last head of Gids before the Cass review ordered its closure, went on CBBC in a show called I Am Leo, saying of blockers: “The good thing is, if you stop the injections, it’s like pressing ‘start’ and the body carries on developing as it would if you hadn’t started.”
The BBC permitted her to make this unevidenced claim to an impressionable audience of six to 12-year-olds. Imagine hearing this as a developing girl, freaked out by your new breasts and periods. No wonder Gids referrals subsequently rocketed.
Carmichael failed to mention that she did not know if pressing “restart” on puberty is always medically possible — it is not — and in fact, almost every child Gids put on blockers went on to irreversible cross-sex hormones.
After years in a Peter Pan state while their peers developed, they understandably felt there was no way back and forged on with treatment. Yet if allowed to experience natural puberty, almost 85 per cent of gender dysphoria cases resolve themselves.
Nor did Carmichael tell CBBC kids that the blockers-hormones combination, if taken early enough, not only results in sterility but kills the libido so that a young person will never experience an orgasm.
At the 2020 judicial review brought by a former Tavistock clinician and Keira Bell, the brave young detransitioner rushed onto hormones by Gids, judges expressed astonishment at Gids’s lack of an evidence base.
Reporting on this issue for seven years, I too have been struck by a complete clinical incuriosity. Not only was data not collected, but those who queried treatments or pressed for evidence faced angry condemnation. Perhaps activists knew what research might find because one long-term Finnish study, recently reported in the BMJ, destroyed the myth used to justify blockers: that a child will commit suicide if denied them.
The Finns found that “gender-affirming care” does not make a dysphoric child less suicidal. Rather, such children had the same suicide risk as others with severe psychiatric issues. In other words, changing bodies does not fix troubled minds.
Yet even after NHS England’s announcement, activists refuse to heed the now-overwhelming evidence. In its response, Stonewall persists with the myth that puberty blockers “give a young person extra time to evaluate their next steps”.
Many questions remain unanswered: will private clinics still be permitted to prescribe puberty blockers; and is Scotland’s Sandyford child gender clinic still determined to close its ears to all evidence? Plus, we have few details on how the NHS’s new “holistic” treatment for gender-questioning children will operate when it opens next month.
This repellent experiment — in which girls who like trucks or little boys who dress as princesses, and who invariably grow up to be gay, are corralled inexorably down a road towards life-changing treatments — belongs in the book of medical disgraces. As do the cheerleaders who raised money for Mermaids and those who persecuted whistleblowers or damned journalists asking questions as transphobic.
In 50 years, chemically freezing the puberty of healthy children with troubled minds will be regarded with the same horrified fascination as lobotomies — which, never forget, won the Portuguese neurologist Antonio Egas Moniz the 1949 Nobel prize.
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{Article source (behind paywall)}
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If it's not too much to ask, could you do 3, 8, and 14 from that list? I think they would work together really cute!
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Astarion x Tav, Astarion x Reader, Astarion x Asexual!Tav, Astarion x Bard!Tav
Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Protective!Astarion, Asexual Angst
Warning: Tav has a shitty ex, allusions to past coerced sex (if unknowing at the time), mild acephobia
Prompt(s): hiding face in neck, shielding the other one with their body, putting an arm around the other’s waist
Astarion x AsexaulBard!Tav Masterlist
A/N: My first thought was pain. Apologies.
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It was supposed to be a good night. You sought, you found, you looted which meant a warm place to sleep, plenty of food and celebratory atmosphere. Astarion had even gotten his hands on wine he wouldn’t turn his nose at. Everything was perfect, until a new bard began to play.
The second you heard his voice, your hair stood on end. Hoping against hope it was just your imagination, you turned your attention to the performance. A familiar half-elf took center stage, armed with a lyre and devastating smile; Ronan.
Your whole body froze on the spot as old feelings rushed back to you, a mixture of shame, anxiety and the sensation of being so utterly small.
“My love? Are you alright?”
You blinked, realizing Astarion was standing next to you, concern clear in his eyes.
“Yes,” you said, automatically. “Just, taken by surprise is all.”
He frowned, unconvinced before following your eye line to the stage.
“Do you know him?” he asked.
“I, ah…yes,” you said, your hands starting to shake. “We used to be…together. It was a long time ago.”
There was no point in lying, but Gods why did you have to have this conversation now? And why were you acting like this? It had been years. You had moved on.
Your thoughts were interrupted as Astarion reached out, slipping his arm around your waist and pulling you to his side.
The effect was instantaneous. Whatever tension your body held melted away. The speed of your heart slowed. The scent of rosemary filled your lungs and you remembered where you were, safe and sound.
He pressed a kiss on top of your head, taking a deep breath of his own.
“Did he hurt you?” he asked.
You shook your head. “No, nothing like that. He didn’t do anything on purpose.”
Astarion’s grip on your tightened ever so slightly. You didn’t need to look up to know he was staring daggers across the room. His hold on you was likely the only thing keeping Ronan’s neck out of his teeth.
“Meaning?”
“He never forced me to do anything,” you assured, trying to remain calm for both your sakes. “I always said yes. Being intimate is what you’re supposed to do when you’re in a caring adult relationship. He wasn’t abusive or cruel, so there was no reason for me to say no…even when I didn’t really want to.”
“That’s reason enough,” Astarion said, firmly.
“I know that now,” you amended. “At the time though, it didn’t feel good enough. We had more than one argument on the subject. Eventually though, I came to the conclusion that, if it weren’t for the feeling of obligation, I never would have said yes in the first place. He wasn’t happy about that and we ended things.”
“Less than amicably I imagine.”
You had to laugh. “Understatement.”
Astarion remained silent for a long moment, his fingers rubbing absent minded circles into your skin.
“Explain to me then, how you can confess all that and still claim he didn’t hurt you.”
Something hard twisted inside your chest, as if he had pressed his finger right into the tear of an old wound. “I wasn’t as if he were holding me at knife point,” you said, feeling the need to defend yourself. “Like I said, I didn’t know saying a blanket no was even an option. Sex is well…expected at a certain point. I can hardly blame him for not questioning the script society had laid out. He just–”
“Made you believe you needed an excuse,” he finished.
Your lips parted, ready to argue, but you found yourself unable to think of anything. Fresh shame rose inside you, but you couldn’t for the life of you name its source. For defending him? For not leaving sooner? For even thinking that your pain was worthy of acknowledgement? All of it swirled together until you became sick to your stomach.
Astarion’s eyes softened, as he pulled you into a proper embrace allowing you to hide your face in his neck. You weren’t going to cry. Not here. Not now.
“I’m sorry,” you said, unsure of what else to say.
“Don’t be,” he said, softly. “It’s not a competition, you know.”
Your instinct was to argue. There was still a guilt you felt at having him hold you like this, as if your experience were in any way comparable to his; but, that wasn’t the point. You had been hurt and he wasn’t going to let you pretend you hadn’t. If you didn’t already love him before, this would have sealed it.
You pulled away, feeling your ability to speak come back to you, just in time to catch his expression shift into something hard and dangerous.
You turned in the direction of his gaze, your own stomach turning as you and Ronan made eye contact. He was coming right for you.
Astarion’s whole body went rigid. Instinctively you grabbed his wrist, keeping him from going to the dagger on his belt.
“Don’t,” you hissed.
The clear and present fury in his eyes, cooled at your warning, enough to let you know he wasn’t going to kill Ronan; at least, not right away.
Ronan, somehow, remained oblivious to all of this, his focus seemingly all on you.
“Well, isn’t this a small world?” he said, greeting you with a disarming smile. “You’re looking good. Who's your friend?”
Your lips pressed into a fine line. Either he was an idiot or being purposefully obtuse. Both ground down on your nerves.
“It’s nice to see you too,” you said. “Ronan, this is my partner, Astarion. Astarion this is–”
“The ex,” he concluded. “Charmed, I’m sure.”
Whatever confident facade Ronan started the conversation with faltered slightly at Astarion’s bold dismissal.
“And really darling, I thought we discussed this,” Astarion continued. “Partner always requires unnecessary explanation. I stand by "lover”, it suits us much better.“
You held back a smile. You had discussed this, at length. Your impression, however, had been that he liked the air of mystery the title "partner” provided. Something about leaving people guessing whether you were partners in business, crime or romance. Apparently, current company required something a bit more obvious.
“Lover?” Ronan questioned, his brow rising. “Changed your mind about a few things then?”
“Not even a little,” you said, coolly. “What do you want?”
He raised his hands up in surrender, his expression a parody of innocence.
“I was simply intending to say hello and catch up. No need to be frigid, but I suppose some things don’t change. Best of luck to you, partner, they’ve got their legs locked tighter than a counting house vault.”
Rage flashed across Astarion’s features as he took a step forward, his body acting as a shield between you and Ronan.
“Would you mind repeating that?” he said, his voice low and full of teeth.
Ronan’s eyes widened slightly, his mouth falling open. You just knew he was about to say something stupid.
“Astarion,” you warned.
He glanced back towards you, his expression intense, but not unreasonable. You knew then, all you had to do was say the word and Ronan would be reduced to nothing but a bag of blood. It was tempting, but not worth it. At least, not worth it while in public with countless eye witnesses.
You shook your head.
He nodded in understanding and turned back to Ronan, his lips parting in an amicable smile.
“It seems you get to survive that comment,” he said, cheerfully. “I suggest you don’t take such mercy for granted. Now, run along.”
Ronan didn’t need telling twice as he shot you one last bewildered look before making his exit.
The second he was out of sight Astarion turned all his focus back to you.
“You’re sure you don’t want me to kill him?” he offered.
You had to smile. “Waste of an evening.”
He considered that, nodding his head from side to side. “I suppose. Still, a little nibble just to scare him wouldn’t hurt anyone. At least, not much.”
“I think you scared him well enough,” you laughed. “Besides, I’m selfish at heart. I want you here, with me, for the rest of the night. No more distractions.”
Astarion grinned, pulling you back into his arms. “If it’s me you want, my love, it’s me you shall have.”
And there he stayed, keeping you safe in the present with the promise of more in the future. The past could not be undone and would no doubt follow you in small and big ways for the rest of your life. The difference was, you had somebody who understood and loved you enough to carry some of the weight. It was more than anyone could hope for and he was yours.
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sulieykte · 7 months
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𝒌𝒊𝒏𝒌𝒕𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒓 𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒆 - 𝒂𝒄𝒄𝒊𝒅𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍 𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏
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pairing: dilf!jake sully x avatar!reader a/n: this one got a little bit away from me, and ended up a lot more plotty than i intended. warnings: 18+ mdni, age difference, uneven power dynamic, hints at cheating, accidental stimulation. barely proofread word count: 1900+
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"Do I have a choice?"
"'Fraid not, kid." Jake said, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips at the glare you shoot him at your least favoured nickname. You hated being thought of as a kid, especially by him. As pathetic as it was, from the moment the hormones had kicked in, you'd held a torch for Jake and you can’t bear the thought that the man who so often visited your dreams thinks of you as a child. By the smirk that graces his annoyingly gorgeous face each time you protested, you had begun to suspect that it only egged him on.
You were younger than all other Avatar drivers, besides Spider, having got your Avatar at twenty-one, over two decades after the others. A much more exciting coming of age than the earth tradition of being allowed to drink. By human standards, you'd been an adult for several years, but you had still not passed that threshold by Na'vi standards. 
The subject of your iknimaya had been a source of many arguments within the clan, and you knew that Jake had done his best to protect you from it, but even his power had limits when faced with the outrage of several clan elders. You were proficient at riding Pa'li, and that had saved you for the first year, but the pressure only got worse after the move to high camp. 
It wasn't that you didn't want to, but your terror of heights had been discovered In your youth when at Lo'ak dragged you along with him and Spider to the Hallelujah Mountains and it took several hours and scratches to poor Norm's face to get you down. Norm had been insistent that you be sedated for the move to High Camp.
"Look, you’ve always wanted to be one of the people, and I know they haven't always been the most welcoming..." His face scrunches in discomfort at the thought, he had done his best to foster a good relationship between the Omatikaya and the humans that remained, but there was only so much he could do after the trauma your people had caused to the Na'vi. You couldn't blame them, but you and Spider, whose only crimes were being born here, had both faced the sting of that trauma many times. "But you see how they are with Spider, he's one of the people now. Don't you want that, kid?"
One of the people was stretching the truth a little in your opinion, but you did want that and you were well aware that your refusal to partake in their clan traditions didn't help matters for you. 
"Besides, what is there to be afraid of? You love Bob!"
"I do love Bob." You agreed, giving the Ikran a pat on the neck and receiving a nuzzle in return. You'd tried to make up for your lack of participation in clan traditions by helping out more around camp. That included caring for the Ikran, and you had grown quite fond of Jake's Ikran, and he you. You look up at Jake, your ears pressing back against your head in a performance that rivalled the many you’d given as a child to get Norm to let you leave Hell’s Gate unattended, looking for an ounce of sympathy that you might elicit from him in a last ditch effort to get out of it. "I also love not hurtling thousands of feet to my death."
You knew it was all over for you when the lines around his eyes became more pronounced and he burst into laughter. 
“Nice try, but if I let you get away with it any longer, people are gonna start thinking I’ve gone soft.” He climbs up onto Bob’s back and reaches out a hand to you. “Come on, you wouldn’t have me ruin my reputation for you, would you? It’s just one ride, I’ll ease you in.”
Defeated, you took his hand and allowed him to pull you up in front of him. You were grateful to be sat facing away from him, it would at least save you from the embarrassment when your body is overtaken by terror, and would disguise some of the blush that heated your cheeks at being in such close proximity to him. You were even more grateful that he’d called you to the edge of the camp under the cover of darkness, so any members of the clan who might spot you would hopefully miss the colour of your cheeks.
You knew your attempts to hide your crush on the Olo’eyktan were not as effective as you might wish. Spider never failed to let you know how obvious your bodily reactions were whenever you were in his proximity, teasing you endlessly for every blush or stutter of your words. Though Spider was sure that Jake was well aware of your infatuation, you were certain he didn’t. He was way too happy to have you around, only giving that devilishly handsome grin of his whenever you found yourself lost for words in his presence. 
“Good girl.” Your body stiffens to stop the shiver that threatens to run down your spine at the sound of his voice, so deep and so so close to your ear as he reaches around you for Bob’s kuru. “When was the last time you trimmed your nails?” He asks, a deep chuckle vibrating against your back at your mumbled ‘that was one time…’. “Okay, you ready?” No, you weren’t and the shake of your head didn’t stop him from guiding each of your hands to grab onto a kuru. “Mirrors. Signal. Manoeuvre.”
Before you can question what the hell that means, the ground disappears from below you and High Camp disappears from your view. You only realise that the sound piercing your eardrums was your own screams when your voice begins to crack, your throat sore from sustaining the sound for so long and his laughter breaks through the sound.
“You back with me, kid?” He has to raise his voice to be heard over the whipping of the wind against your ears, and as awareness of your surroundings returns to you, you see that he’s settled you into a steady glide now, little over the treelines of what used to be the Omatikaya’s home. You’re so focussed on being so close to the place you used to think of as home and the adrenaline rushing through your body, that has your blood pumping and your head spinning, it takes much longer than you’d have liked to realise the position you’ve put yourself in.
In the panic of the descent, you’d all but climbed into Jake’s lap. Leaving no space between your bodies, your tail wrapped so tightly around his calf that you were sure you were cutting off his blood supply and although you’re thankful that it’s no longer Bob you were holding onto when you see the half moon indents in his wrists.
“Oh shit– Fuck! I’m so sorry.” Your body temperature rises several degrees over what you’re certain is safe when the reality of your situation hits you and the dizziness is no longer from height. There’s no way you’re thinking clearly through the blood rush to your head, and either insanity or stupidity takes over you when you try to detangle yourself from Jake all at once, releasing your hold on his arms and leg as you attempt a half baked lunge towards Bob’s neck and away from further humiliation that only leads to you nearly falling head first off of the Ikran and towards your greatest fear. 
“Jesus- Kid!” A strong arm pulls you backward, saving you from hurtling off to certain death but putting you back into the situation you were trying to escape, his thick bicep holding you tight around the shoulders and pressing you into his body. “What the hell are you thinking?” His voice reverberates in your ear, anger or irritation, whatever the tone was it had you blinking back tears. 
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry!” The apologies flow out of you as the tears wish to, your attempts to wriggle out of his grasp in vain as he only pulled you closer, uttering soft words that you couldn’t hear through the blood rushing to your ears. Your hands reaching to pull at the arm that imprisoned you, every inch of your body moving in the attempt you escape his grasp and further mortification, your nails were much sharper in your Avatar body, but Jake was not as deterred by their assault as Norm had been. “Oh Eywa just let me fall, I’m never getting on one of these things again, you might as well give up–”
Your spine stiffens as he says your name, voice booming to interrupt your shrill rambling. 
“Fuck– stop moving.” He orders, and you realise he’s breathing heavily, his chest pushing against your back as it rises and falls in quick succession as if he’s trying to catch his breath. His bicep tenses, still pressing you securely into his body as he brings you below the treelines and your body relaxes as you see the ground approaching and the comfort of fresh earth below your feet and the omatikaya’s former settlement.
Your body jolts against Jake’s, the landing a little too rough in his rush to get you on solid ground. He grunts, like the wind has been knocked out of him and as quick as he is to break Tsaheylu, he isn’t so fast to let go of you.
“Jake?” You ask, peering over your shoulder as far as his grip would allow. Your body might have relaxed, but he appeared to have picked up all of the tension you’d lost. His eyes were squeezed shut, nostrils flaring in a sharp intake of breath.  Your heart drops, the last person to show understanding for you had finally lost his patience. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to freak like that. I’ll call Norm and get him to pull me out of the link so you can take my body back.” 
A hand stops you before you can reach your comm, a hand stops your wrist, and when you look around his eyes are open and there’s something in them that you’ve never seen before. No one has ever looked at you like this. Not in any body. Not with the hunger you see looking back at you. 
And then you feel it. Hard and thick against your lower back and you realise why he’d been desperate for you to stop moving. The heat that rises to your cheeks pools between your legs as you realise that you had done that to him, however unintentionally. It could’ve been just a natural reaction, something he couldn’t help, you had been grinding against him in your escape attempt and despite appearances, he was only human. 
But you couldn’t believe that. Not as you hold his gaze, neither of you able to look away. Not when he’s looking at you like he’s about to make the biggest mistake of his life, his arm dropping as he releases his hold on you, only for his hands to find your hips, his fingers gripping at your skin. The silence is deafening, only filled with both of your heavy breathing until he breaks it, voice rougher than you were used to.
“Damn, kid. You really are trying to ruin me, aren’t ya?”
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taglist: @pandoraslxna @teyamsatan @eyweveng @neteyamsoare @jakesullyfatjuicypeen @goodbird1 @avatarsslut @the-mourning-moon @blue-slxt @loaksulluyswife @multibishh @qweq-6802 @mylovescara @renaimel @xylianasblog @salamandraemcimadocaveirao @neteyamsyawntu
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vacantfields · 2 months
Text
Things Are Better AU MASTER POST!
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Tags used: Things Are Better AU | TAB AU | TAB AU Answers | TAB AU Writing | TAB AU Sun | TAB AU Moon | TAB AU Eclipse |
AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vacantfields
TAB AU: Singing Voices Spotify Playlist
YOU ARE ALLOWED TO: Draw, Write, etc with these guys! (ASK ABOUT NSFW !)(AND remember to credit me!!)
(I will attempt to use the tags as best as i can!! Do also note that things can change in this AU but this is the best place you can go look honestly)
[ In this AU, Sun, Eclipse, and Moon have gotten new bodies, some that are way more humanoid. Technically, they are not animatronics anymore, but the Pizzaplex they live at still deems them as such! They are also all separated; most importantly, THEY ARE NOT BROTHERS. They are best friends! (Sun and Moon, however, seem closer than that.) ]
[ It is set in the 20XX! The date doesn't matter. ]
[ The Location of this thriving Pizzaplex is in the heart of a big city, and the rest of the animatronics have gotten slight upgrades but have remained the same. Sun and Moon still run the Daycare. Eclipse stands as the security guard for the Daycare (Moon also still goes on patrols, as well). They live in the Daycare too! The layout is (sorta) the same as the original Pizzaplex. The boys can leave the place, but they must tell their handler or whoever runs the place how long they will be gone. The virus from the game is not here, BUT a virus is in this! It's highly aggressive and should be avoided at all costs. Moon used to have a virus, but most got removed from him when they moved into these bodies, although some of the virus remains in his code. Eclipse has a different virus embedded in him, and he cannot remember how he acted before; it basically wiped his personality, so now he's somewhat unpredictable. ]
They have humanoid/android bodies
The original body along with their personality chips were created in the middle of the 90s
Moon got his virus in 95 or so but they couldn't fully remove it as they would have to reset him and thats a chore plus it wasn't too dangerous so they moved the guys into separate bodies and it fixed most of it
the story is set in 20XX
The location is in a big city
They have been in the new bodies for around 5 years
The fire, gregory, etc. Did not happen here!
The virus Eclipse was made by some people who wanted to use the animatronics to attack people and make sure that fazbear would shut down
They are not the same guys from the game BUT they do act a lot like them! (kinda)
They used to share a body (Eclipse just being a security setting in them)
Moon has remains of a violent virus
Eclipse has the virus embedded in his code
Eclipse cannot remember who he was before the virus
The virus is not sentient... OR... Is it?
Despite not having the virus, Sun is not handling being alone in his head. His unstable and unused security program snaps in when he has breakdowns and makes his head think it's Moon talking to him.
Sun was the first personality chip then it was Moon and then Eclipse
Other facts
The virus does NOT like the color red on bodies. (Do not wear a red shirt or anything alike that around Eclipse he will attack and KILL.)(Though if they care about you he will hold back from mauling)
They cannot eat BUT! They can taste things!
Their face plates can still spin
They can still use the wire to "fly" around if they wish
They have a secondary voice box that they use for when they talk with people outside of the Daycare/or go out!
In the Daycare they use the "Canon" voice
They can also perform at "Adult Nights" at the pizzaplex, which consists of them singing on stage while the adults drink and so on.
Moon is the only one who actively performs so you can catch him in the evenings on stage!
They are all very flexible... And they can dance (;
They can also talk with each other through a shared headspace (like a group chat)
The old body is stored somewhere in the plex
--
⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊ SUN ⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊
He/They/We | 8'5" / 256cm | Daycare Attendant
[ Sun is a happy go lucky guy who hides a lot of his other emotions and sometimes they tumble in! He gets angry, he gets sassy, he gets upset, etc. !! ]
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Secondary Voice (singing):
Without A Whisper | Sleepless Deathbed | Reverie
(Invent Animate)
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⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ MOON ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆
He/They/We | 8'5" / 256cm | Naptime Attendant / Performer
[ Moon is your day to day gremlin. Crawling up walls and spider-walking across the floor in the darkness. Though he does easily get flustered if youre close enough to him! ]
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Secondary Voice (singing):
Secret Scream | That Death Cannot Touch | No Accusations
(The Black Queen)
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☾✴ ๋࣭ ⭑ ECLIPSE ☾✴ ๋࣭ ⭑
He/They/We | 9'4" / 284cm | Security for the Daycare
[ Eclipse is a wild card. You never know if you can trust what comes out of his mouth but he seems docile for now ]
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Secondary Voice (singing):
Broken Inside | Forevermore | Clouded Son
(Broken Iris)
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(Hopefully this made some sort of sense... I will probably edit here and there but (: !!)
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myhyperfixatedmess · 9 months
Text
Intrusion.
Tom Riddle × Fem!Reader
You always had a hard time understanding why Tom kept you so hidden away. One night something happens that makes you realize why.
Word count: 1.7k
Content warning: Hints of a panic attack, violence, depictions of torture.
Soft!Tom makes an appearance!
You were very aware that Tom kept you at a distance from his...business.
Even during your time at school, he only allowed you to attend the Room of Requirement meetings a couple of times after much pleading. Graduating didn't change the situation much, despite your marriage; you didn't mind not knowing every detail of his plans, but the extent of your seclusion felt odd. You just wanted to understand why he kept you hidden away so intensely.
Most days, you tried to convince yourself that being the wife of the Dark Lord was enough, even if you had no say in his world-altering decisions. It was hard to ignore that some of his followers were unaware of your existence, while others knew you only as "The Dark Lord's mistress," a term you doubted Tom was aware of or would tolerate.
Though a few Death Eaters knew you from your Hogwarts days, most remained tight-lipped around you, offering mere nods or quiet acknowledgments. It was clear they feared Tom greatly; making eye contact with you seemed like a perilous act. You weren't sure if it was due to his direct orders or their assumptions about his expectations. Either way, though you couldn't really fault them for hiding from you. While you weren't scared of Tom, you could understand why others would be. 
Quiet apprehension gnawed at you as you contemplated discussing your concerns with Tom. But you reasoned that avoiding potential arguments and trusting him were better choices. After all, you were an adult now, not a teenage worrier. You had married him despite his questionable morals, so who were you to judge?
The muffled conversations behind closed doors and fleeting glimpses of secretive meetings became your new norm. Sometimes you managed to catch glimpses through cracks, only to have the door swiftly shut when you were noticed. While you occasionally wondered about his trust in you, you pushed those doubts away to avoid unnecessary distress. You remained silent, occupying yourself with your own pursuits, whether it was reading, writing, or wandering the halls of the inherited family estate.
On this particular evening, you found yourself in the library, Tom being out for the night, which didn't bother you. As you perused the shelves, a loud bang from downstairs jolted you. Frozen in place, you strained to listen for more sounds, until harsh, unfamiliar voices reached your ears. Loud and aggressive, they echoed from the ground floor.
Panic surged as you realized you were in danger. These voices weren't part of Tom's inner circle, and you backed away from the library door, realizing that someone had broken into your home. The thought of a robbery crossed your mind, but then a chilling realization struck—you hadn't considered the possibility that Tom's ambitious plans might have made enemies.
Your initial instinct was to leave the house, apparate, and contact Tom for help. But as your hand reached for your wand, you remembered it was in your room. Unlike Tom, you couldn't perform wandless magic. Trapped and helpless, the sound of angry shouting grew louder, approaching from downstairs.
With each thud of footsteps ascending the stairs, you strained to catch their words. The first voice, a man's, sent a shiver down your spine as he called out, "Where is that bitch?" It was clear they were after you, and this wasn't just a random intrusion; they intended to harm you.
Anxiety clenched at your heart. You had never felt targeted before, never imagined this vulnerability. You cursed yourself for not being better prepared, for letting yourself be defenseless and alone. As their voices drew nearer, panic coursed through you; you were trapped, with no means of escape. 
With painstaking effort, you inched backward against the library wall, the cold surface offering a stark contrast to your racing heart. The air felt thin and suffocating, your breaths shallow and uneven, while beads of sweat dotted your forehead.
They were right outside the door now.
You pressed your hands against the wall, your pulse pounding in your ears, as you prayed for them not to notice you. They pounded on the door, and you clamped your eyes shut, fear tightening its grip on you with each thud.
A shiver of dread ran down your spine as the door gave way, crashing open under their assault. Two men stormed in, wands at the ready. Your body locked up, terror stifling your voice, and you blinked back tears that threatened to betray your composure. This couldn't be real, it couldn't be happening.
The realization hit that running was futile—your exit was blocked. Your heart raced as their eyes settled on you, and you weighed your chances against them without a wand. Your legs trembled as the fear that gripped you teetered on the edge of overwhelming.
"There she is," one of the men sneered, his gaze locking onto you. Panic gripped you tighter, the world narrowing down to their menacing forms.
"We've been looking for you. I'll take her. Come along." His companion's nod was a chilling confirmation, and your pulse quickened as he aimed his wand at you. Their grip tightened, hauling you forward, and you struggled against their grasp. Your voice wavered as you spoke, desperation evident, "Don't do anything foolish. Let me go!"
Their faces twisted with anger at your words, their cruelty evident.
"Voldemort's whore has a temper," the other man taunted, the use of Voldemort's name sending a shock through you. These were Tom's followers, but why target you? They had to know the repercussions of angering him.
"What do you want with me? What are you doing?" you pleaded, flinching when the grip on your arm intensified.
"Enough talking," he snapped, his wand slicing through the air to silence you. Before you could react, the curse fell from his lips.
"Crucio."
Agony erupted, a scream tearing from your throat. Pain seared across your skin, your body convulsing as the torture curse wracked you. Darkness encroached on your vision, and you were thrown backward, a collision with a bookshelf shattering your senses.
As your awareness wavered, a silver dagger gleamed in one captor's hand, your body too weak to move. The other man grabbed your hair, his wand trained on you, while the dagger-wielding one advanced with malicious intent.
"Please, no! Tom will b—"
"Shut it!" the man spat, the blade plunging into your leg. Agony shot through you, your body wracked with pain as your screams filled the room.
"That bastard doesn't even know we're here, but he's gonna regret making a fool out of us," the man hissed, drawing closer. Nausea swelled within you, tears clouding your vision.
"Unhand her." The voice cut through the chaos, familiar and commanding.
"Tom…" you croaked weakly, blinking teary eyes to see him standing behind your assailants. His eyes blazed with fury, and you clung to his presence, your savior in this nightmare.
The attackers froze, their surprise palpable.
"M- My lord," one stammered, and Tom's lip curled with disdain.
"Ah, so it is 'my lord' now?" he seethed, closing in. The men scrambled, leaving you slumped against the bookshelf.
"We meant no disrespect, sir," one attempted, while the other looked on anxiously. "We simply were…"
"Were what?" Tom's anger laced his voice. "Please do explain your assault on my wife."
"My lord," the shorter man bowed, "We didn't know—We just thought she was some intruder!"
The taller man nodded in agreement.
"Yeah, we came for you and saw her! We thought she was breaking in, my lord, I swear!"
The lies were transparent.
"Not only did you invade my home and attack my wife, but you dare lie about it," Tom growled, his gaze steely.
"No, we're—"
"Silence!" Tom's command silenced them both.
"Both of you will go downstairs; I will address this later." The men hurried away, assuming they were off the hook. Tom turned to you, worry etched his features as he reached for your trembling hands.
"My love, can you hear me?" he murmured, his voice a soothing balm. His arms enfolded you, lifting you gently. Pain rippled through you, your vision swimming.
"Everything will be all right now, I am here," he assured softly, but your pain remained relentless. Tom's gaze shifted to your bleeding leg, his brows furrowing in concern.
"You will be fine," he said gently as he cradled you. The pain was overpowering, your vision blurring as you teetered on the brink of unconsciousness.
His voice reached you, your consciousness slipping away, but you knew he was there.
And then the darkness enveloped you.
-
When consciousness returned, you found yourself in your bed, the dull ache in your head the only lingering reminder of the ordeal. Your gaze shifted to your bandaged leg, confirming that the events weren't some nightmarish illusion. Sighing, you realized it had all been real.
You pushed yourself up, cautiously testing your body's limits. Muscles protested the movement, and a groan escaped your lips as pain surged through you. Memories of the harrowing experience played on a loop in your mind, each scene etched with vivid intensity.
Tom's voice interrupted your thoughts. "You need to rest." His presence filled the room, and you met his gaze as he spoke.
"How long was I asleep?" you questioned, trying to make sense of the passage of time.
"13 hours," he replied calmly, offering you a glass of water. He settled beside you on the bed.
"Thirteen hours!?" Shock colored your voice as you nearly dropped the glass. "I was unconscious for thirteen hours?"
Tom's reassurance came with a touch. "It is okay, you're safe now," he said, his arms encircling you. The glass of water quickly emptied as you downed it, your body yearning for hydration after the ordeal.
"So, what happened to the intruders?" you ventured, your apprehension clear in your voice.
"They have been dealt with," Tom's response was clipped, his demeanor stern. You understood the implication behind his words and chose not to press further.
"I'm sorry, Tom," you murmured, resting your head against his chest. Fatigue washed over you, threatening to pull you back into sleep.
"For what?" he inquired gently.
"Being reckless," you admitted, your eyelids growing heavy.
"I was careless too," he confessed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "They are gone now. I will never let any harm come to you again."
"Promise?" you whispered, your eyes fluttering closed.
"I promise," his reply was tender, and with a content smile, you surrendered to sleep once more.
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