#「 desires 」 — ❛ i thought i found what i always wanted there with me. ❜ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

xosamioo · 3 days ago

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“𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐬𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬”

Paring: Boyfriend! Riki x f! reader

Rating: 18+ explicit and mature content, smut and angst

content warnings: NSFW knife play violence role playing swearing slight degradation

Summary: you decided to buy your boyfriend riki a ghost face costume for "Halloween"...definitely not intentionally buying it for other purposes....

Wc: 4k

Authors note: �� This story is fiction and does not reflect the personalities or desires of those it is written about. This story has some scenes that may be uncomfortable for some readers, read at your own risk.

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Halloween was in a few days and you were going to spend it with your boyfriend Riki. You decided to buy him a ghost face costume for Halloween and you did not buy him the costume because you thought it would look hot…. Oh definitely not!

you were laying down against the pillows on the headboard while Riki is leaning against the wall. His long legs taking a majority of the bed

He’s currently playing on his PlayStation, having a pretty intense match on FIFA with his friend while you scrolled on your phone. The two of you often hang out like this. Doing your things while enjoying each other’s company.

He leans back and lets out a frustrated groan when he misses the goal, “I should’ve had that!”

“maybe you shouldn’t suck at the game.” you tease, grinning as you watch him shoot you a small glare before looking back at his game.

You sat up gently and crawled over sitting on his lap “Hey babe?”

“yeah?” he replied, sounding a bit distracted since his focus was still on the game.

“how long is your match going to last?” you asked, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I wanted you to try something on”

” Oh?” he glanced over at you, looking away from the game once again. ”what did you want me to try on?” he asked with a tilt of his head. God, he looked so hot.

“I got you a ghost face costume” you smiled “For Halloween” you clarify

”oh yeah?” “you want me to try it on now?” he asked as he paused his game. he pats your thigh gently signaling for you to get off him.

You get off his lap and sit on the bed as you watch him get up from it. He stretches, the bottom of his shirt rising a little, showing a bit of his toned stomach.

”wait right here,” you say before quickly getting up from the bed and leaving the room to go and grab the costume you bought for him.

After a minute of searching, you finally found it. You grabbed it and went back to your room where Riki was still waiting there for you.

You hold it out in front of him, “here” you watch as he takes the costume from you and takes it out you sit down on your bed and watch him go to the bathroom to put the costume on. After a few minutes, he returns. He stood in front of you his tall frame with his arms hanging at the side holding the fake knife in his hand. He had the long black cloak and the infamous ghost face mask covering his face. He looked just like a ghost face. “do you like it?” he asked, tilting his head at you as he spoke.

You took a second to answer, just taking in how hot he looked you gently squeezed your thighs together. He looked so fucking hot. “you look like actual ghost face”

“that’s kinda the point,” he said as he leaned forward resting his hands on each side of you.

The position caused you to slightly have to look up at him, his face still fully covered by the mask and hood, your thighs clenching even more

You couldn’t help but notice how broad his shoulders looked in the costume. You always knew he was toned due to all of the dance practices he had and the workouts he did.

You felt his large hands trace up and down your thighs, lightly squeezing them. he was still so close to you, his knee placed on the bed between your open legs to make sure you couldn’t close them even if you wanted to. His hands then traced up towards your waist, you shuddered a bit at the touch.

He let his hands rest on your waist pulling you a bit closer to him. You felt his knee press against your aching core. A small whimper left your mouth. You were such a mess and he had barely even touched you yet.

“Oh, what’s this” he asked, his hand trailing back down to lightly brush against your core. You bit your lip lightly trying not to make any noise. You noticed him slightly shaking his head in a ‘tsk, tsk’ motion before he spoke again. “no, no, no” he said, lightly shaking his head. “don’t hold back, let me hear you” he said, placing more pressure where you needed it.

You gasped loudly, squirming under his touch your hips lightly bucking up towards his hand. The pressure didn’t feel like enough. The fabric of his pants created a delicious friction between your already-soaked core that made you let out a soft moan. “what do you want? Tell me” Riki murmured as he chuckled, ”or else I’m gonna kill you with this knife,” he said as he raised the fake knife in the air moved it to point it at you, and gently placed the tip of the knife below your chin making you look up at him playing the role very well

You slightly whimpered at the role-play as your legs shook slightly. The knife being pressed against you only made you more and it was painfully obvious as Riki could feel how wet you were through your thin panties. “please” you whimpered

” Please what?” he teased, looking down at you. he slowly pulled the knife away from your chin, now placing it on your throat and holding it there lightly. “use your words princess, tell me what you want” he practically purred.

”need you” you whimpered looking up at him, your eyes looking at his through the tiny holes in his mask

He let out a slight chuckle at how needy you looked. He moved forward you felt him shift a bit. He was so close now that the small height difference was even more noticeable. You could feel his breath through the mask, and you wanted it off. You wanted to see his face. And before you could even think about what you were doing you gripped the edge of the mask and started pulling it up. As soon as the mask was off you saw his face. His hair was tousled and messy a little sweaty because of the mask making his black locks stick to his forehead his cheeks flushed and you could tell how bad he wanted it by the look in his eyes. Your eyes looked at plump his lips before quickly looking up at his eyes again. A moment passed of you just staring into his eyes until you surged your head forward and pressed your lips against his roughly. Your lips molded together with his as he kissed you back just as fiercely. A moan left your mouth as his tongue invaded your mouth, you could feel him smiling against your lips. You slightly pulled away to catch your breath as you panted against his lips. he pulled away slightly looking down at you. he smirked, before speaking again. "you know," he started, slightly chuckling after speaking. "the knife is for a show" he looked down at you with a grin. "you weren't supposed to take the mask off" he said slightly shaking his head. "can't play the part right if the actress isn't playing her role either" he said in a teasing tone. He moved the knife back down to your neck, gently tracing it down your neck until he got to your chest. He traced the outside of your breast with it causing you to shiver slightly. He looked back down at you and you swallowed before speaking. "well I wanted to see you" you said in a soft voice. He was smiling looking at you as you spoke. His eyes were slightly hooded from lust as he looked over you his eyes tracing down your face. "cute" he whispered out softly as he gently moved his thumb to sweep across your bottom lip "It's just a costume, don't tell me you got all worked up over a mask?" he asked lightly squeezing the sides of your thighs with his other hand. “didn’t think you’ll be into this kind of stuff” your thighs clenched at his words, a low whine coming from you. You nodded slightly feeling a little embarrassed but also a bit needy at the same time. He grinned at you, looking down at you. "you're so easy" he teased, "that's what you get for pulling my mask off" he continued looking down at you, "and besides, you ruined the role play" he paused. "now, what am I gonna do with you?" he asked tilting his head to the side lightly. "I need to punish you somehow." a playful grin now plastered on his face when the words left his lips.

He started slowly tracing his finger in circles on your thighs, the knife still held tightly in his other hand. You shuddered at his teasing touches causing you to close your legs to get some kind of friction your hips lightly wiggling under him. he then suddenly stopped causing you to look up at him. "keep your legs open" he said looking down at you. "or else what?" you teased, keeping your legs closed as you looked up at him. he looked down at you, smiling and shaking his head slightly. "don't tempt me" he said, his tone light and playful. "you still ruined the role play" he said as he lightly gripped your inner thigh. "so you'll be a good girl for ghost face tonight and do what I say, understand?" he asked. You bit your lip, opening your legs a bit wider so it was easier for him to slip his hand between your thighs. "I always listen to ghost faces," you said with a teasing smile. His hand lightly squeezed your thigh. "don't be a brat" he said in a slightly more serious tone than before, you nodded and he seemed to have been appeased at your obedience because he gave you a smile before speaking again. "good girl" he said, moving his hand away from your thigh and moving it up slowly to your core. His thumb lightly traced the hem of your underwear causing a small whine to leave your mouth. "already this wet?" he asked moving his hand so his fingers pressed up against the crotch of your panties, his fingers lightly rubbing over your clothed core, he was teasing you. You were about to whine but his mouth was suddenly on yours as he kissed you roughly. You moaned into the kiss, his fingers that were rubbing you through your underwear sped up. His thumb started to apply more pressure. You pulled away from the kiss, "please" you panted "I need you" you said feeling him chuckle against your mouth before speaking. "so needy" he said, his voice breathy "Fine, I suppose I can be nice for once" he said looking down at you and pulling away from you and settling down in between your legs. You watched him as he settled in between your legs. Pulling them up so they were over his shoulders, before looking up at you. "you've been so good for me" he said moving his hands to take off your underwear. You shivered when the cool air hit your core. Once your underwear was off you watched as he pulled off his fake glove with his teeth, and placed the knife down before speaking. "I want you to put your hands up where I can see them okay?" he asked lightly. You nodded, moving your hands up so your arms were above your head. He lowered his head down towards you, he looked up at you for a moment before he looked down again. Your head fell back slightly once you felt his lips on your folds. You whined slightly. His tongue flicking between your folds your fingers gripped the bed sheets to ground yourself to prevent you from pulling his hair. You felt the pressure build up in your stomach. You started panting heavily, as you felt his tongue press into your entrance and move in and out slowly. Your legs slightly squeezed his head in anticipation. His hands were gripping your thighs almost to the point of leaving bruises. You couldn’t help the moan that left your mouth you were so close. You felt him slightly speed up before he stopped suddenly. You let out a small hiss of frustration. You heard him click his tongue and you felt him move away from you. You looked down at him as to ask why he pulled away. A smirk lay on his face, “can’t have you coming just yet” he said, “we haven’t even gotten to the best part” he teased looking up at you. You let out a groan at his teasing, he chuckled and moved his hands down to the pants of the costume undoing them slowly. You watched his every move as he pulled down his pants and threw them to the side.

You bit your lip and watched as he moved forward. Gently place both of his hands on either side of your stomach. He leaned down slightly closer to you and then he stopped completely. He let out a small sigh, "I almost forgot" he said, now looking down to the side of you. You followed his line of vision to see that he was looking at the mask he placed on the side of the bed after you took it off him

You looked back down at Riki to see him now grabbing the mask and placing it back on his face. Your legs started to shake slightly. You needed him. he looked back at you, grabbing your chin with his thumb and his pointer finger tilting your chin up slightly so you were looking directly at him. "now, let's try this again" he said, letting go of your chin. Your legs still shaking slightly.

He moved closer towards you, slowly stroking your thighs lightly. Moved one of his hands to align his tip with your entrance before pausing and looking at you. he pressed his tip against you but didn't go any further. You couldn't help but let out a small whimper as you felt him against you. But he still didn't do anything. he was waiting for your permission. You quickly nodded, your hips lightly bucking up to feel more. He smirked underneath the mask as he took his other hand off your thigh and placed it on your hip to hold you down before slowly pushing into you. You threw your head back, your eyes squeezing shut as you let out a moan. You could hear him softly panting as he entered you completely. Your walls fluttered around him as your body tried to become used to him. "so tight" he said, pausing for a moment once he was fully inside and then slowly pulling back out. He slowly pushed himself inside you again, this time bottoming out. A drawn-out moan left your mouth as he pressed himself into you again and again. You were gripping the bed sheets so tightly that your knuckles were turning white. Riki let out a moan as he felt your walls squeeze around him. he sped up and you moaned, your head falling on the pillow behind you and his name escaping your lips in a chant as he thrust inside you. " r-riki" You moaned out breathlessly. The sound of his hips slapping against yours filled the room, the sound of skin-on-skin echoing off the walls. He grabbed the fake knife prop again placing it on your stomach. The cold feeling of the plastic against your bare skin caused you to gasp and look up at him your eyes locking with his hooded eyes through the holes in the mask. It felt like an intense staredown as he continued moving inside you, the knife still lightly pressed to your stomach. He let out a low groan, as he trailed the knife down lower to where he and you joined. He looked up at you as he continued to roll his hips against you through the mask tilting his head slightly to the side as he spoke in a teasing tone "Look at that"Pausing his hips momentarily pulling out he started moving the knife back and forth slightly watching you before pausing and smirking "just imagine what would happen if I just.." he said he then suddenly thrust the fake prop knife into you just for a moment. You gasped feeling the cold plastic knife inside of you before Riki pulled it away and put it on the side. Riki chuckled slightly “Sorry sorry I had to” You knew he was smiling under that damn mask. “you’re crazy,” you said, slightly shaking your head and chuckling, he let out a laugh and spoke, “I thought it was pretty funny,” he said pushing back into you and speeding his hips up slightly causing you to moan.

Your grip on the bedsheets beneath you tightened as you let out a long moan gripping them harder. Riki’s eyes squeezed shut and let out a low groan as he felt your walls slightly clench around him. he then let out

A low whine as he slowly pulled out and pushed back into you again, you let a whimper as your eyes squeezed shut. The pressure in your abdomen was back and you knew you weren't going to last much longer. He sped up his hips slapping against yours faster than before. You couldn’t help the low moan that left your mouth as he gripped your hips tightly his thumbs digging into your hip bones. You could tell he was close by the way his hips were twitching and his thrust was starting to get sloppier, you let out low whine, looked towards him, and pulled the mask up so it covered his mouth but his eyes were on display. He looked into your eyes his eyes slightly hooded and you watched as he licked his lips. You felt yourself clench around him at the sight. "c-close" he panted out, you nodded biting your lip at his confession the pressure in your lower stomach getting more intense. "a-actually just let me," Riki said pulling the mask off the rest of his face and throwing it on the floor, "I wanna see you" he said smiling. His smile was contagious as you smiled back at him he moved forwards slightly placing his hands on either side of your head as his hips sped up again the force of his thrusts causing the bed to creak slightly "A-almost" he said his hips moving slightly sloppier as he gripped the bedsheets next to your head. He buried his face in your neck letting out a gasp that fanned against your ear causing you to shudder slightly. Hearing him groan and pant in your ear made you clench around him causing him to let out a whimper "fuck" he whispered out, placing sloppy open-mouth kisses on your jawline. You moved your own hands to grip his shoulders, your nails digging into his shoulder causing him to hiss in your ear. You looked up at him and he pulled his face away from your neck looking into your eyes with a smile as he moved his face closer to yours capturing your lips in a kiss. He moved his lips with yours gently biting your bottom lip, you gently tugged on his hair causing him to let out a low moan into your mouth as he buried his head in your neck. He mumbled against your neck "Gonna come” he said his hips stuttering against yours as his hand dug more into the bed next to your head. Your legs began to shake slightly from overstimulation "M-me too" you panted out your head buried in his shoulder. "inside" you mumbled your nails digging into his back as his hips began to move faster against yours. He lifted his head to bury it in your neck again as he let a long loud moan into your ear his hips twitching. You felt him spill into you as his hips snapped against yours through his high. He let out a shuddering breath before speaking "I love you" he said, his hips still slowly moving as he rode out his high against you until his body stopped twitching. He pulled out of you and kissed you lazily. you both panted against each other's lips softly before you spoke slightly breathlessly "I love you too, so much" you said against his lips he let out a soft chuckle against your mouth, smiling. He laid down next to you resting his head on your shoulder, one hand tracing the skin of your stomach up to your chest while the other held your waist. you both stayed there in a comfortable silence until Riki suddenly spoke up, the tone of his words dripping with smugness "You just bought the costume for this to happen didn’t you" he teased lightly squeezing your hips. "maybe," you said with a slight smirk. "but who am I kidding it's no secret I think ghost face is hot," you joked chuckling slightly. you felt riki shake his head slightly, but you knew he was smiling as he spoke "I already know you got a thing for scary masked serial killers y/n, this isn't surprising" he teased….

Author note: HAPPY HALLOWEEN 🎃

Hope you guys enjoyed please like and share 🩶

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TAGLIST: @leov3rse @aanniikka @heeaxvhhoon @jungwoosbaey @moonpri @high-and-low-all-the-way the-way @jakeswifez @ruth-odyssey @m4rlvky @minlvsjo @mininishiriki

#enha fanfic #enha hard hours #enha x reader #xosamioo #niki hard thoughts #niki hard hours #enhypen niki #nishimura riki #niki x reader #niki imagines #niki smut #enhypen riki #riki imagines #riki smut #riki x reader

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dietcokegirly12 · 2 days ago

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“Behave”

featuring fyodor doestovsky ✧˖✟₊ .⊹♱ ݁ ˖

꒰ ── ˚⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺˚ ── ˚ ── ˚⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺˚ ── ꒱

creds to the original artists!! i found these on pinterest :)

꒰ ── ˚⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺˚ ── ˚ ── ˚⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺˚ ── ꒱

tags: lapsitting, slight voyerism, dry-humping in public, degrading, name-calling (slut, whore, etc.), manipulation, slapping, choking, spitting, unprotected sex, orgasm denial, etc etc

word count: 2k

dead dove do not eat! dark content, mdni!

KINKTOBER OCT. 30 ⁺‧₊☽ 🀦 ☾₊‧⁺

── ⋅⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍷ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋅ ── ⋅⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍷ɞ˚‧｡⋆⋅ ── ⋅⋆｡‧˚ʚ

"Fedyaaa.." you whine, tugging slightly on your boyfriend's sleeve. He was supposed to be heading to a Decay of Angels meeting with all of the members right now, but you just couldn't bear the thought of him leaving you, even for a second.

He brushes his hair back before donning his fluffy ushanka. "What is it, my love?"

"I don't want you to gooo..." you pout slightly, huffing at his attempts to push you off him.

He finally manages to untangle you from him, turning slightly to tilt his head in apology. "I have to, Myshka."

He places a small, chaste kiss on your forehead before turning to the door. "Be good for me while I'm gone."

But before he can close the door all the way, you block it with your foot, looking at him pleadingly. "Pleaseee Fedya. Just... take me with you! I want to go too! Take me to your meeting!"

He raises an eyebrow at this, chuckling. "Oh? Do you know how long these meetings are, my love?"

As you gaze at him imploringly, he finally relents in to your desires. "Fine. You really are insatiable."

As your eyes light up and you happily press yourself to him again, nuzzling into his chest, he opens the door again, saying to you sternly, "But you better be on your best behavior, these are important people that I'm working with, and I don't need you causing me any trouble."

You nod eagerly, always happy to please your Fyodor, and not wanting him to change his mind and make you stay.

He looks you over one last time, before sighing and holding you close to him as he leads you both down the hall toward the meeting room.

─── ˏˋ ꒰ ˚ ༘ ｡♡₊ 🖇️ ₊˚ ꒱ ˎˊ ─── ˏˋ ꒰ ˚ ༘ ⋆｡♡₊ 🖇️ ₊˚ ꒱

Which is how you found yourself here.

Sat primly atop Fyodor’s lap, staring around the room in pure boredom as the members droned on and on about who knows what.

“The Detective Agency has… it’s crucial that they don’t figure out our approach… we must start planning and we’re going to need Fyodor’s ability of…”

Frustrated, you shift around, feeling Fyodor’s cold fingers curl around your waist in warning.

As he had ushered you in, there had not been enough chairs, since there were a specific amount of members in attendance, so you were forced to sit on your boyfriend’s lap, not that you were complaining.

Although at first the members had grumbled about the intrusion of you, worried you were going to leak confidential information, Fyodor had quickly put a stop to it, warning them that as his girlfriend that they should be respectful when speaking to you, his hand around the small of your back protectively.

But it had been hours since then, and they were still talking, showing no sign of adjournment any time soon.

Fyodor had barely talked the entire time, and currently was watching the meeting with a look almost bordering contempt. You knew Fyodor hated these meetings, thinking they were pointless and time-consuming, and now that you were here with him, you could clearly see why. And as the meeting progressed on and on, you were beginning to feel increasingly more aroused by the bulge underneath you, practically pushed up against your throbbing pussy.

As the man you believe is called Fukuchi proceeds to go on and on about how important whatever mission they had next in their plans was, you shift again, this time more intentional.

He doesn't show any sign of acknowledgment, so you back up slightly into him, pretending to stretch while simultaneously dragging your needy cunt across his lap languidly, so as not to be noticed by the others.

Not a single part of him reacts, his breathing as steady as always. The only way you can tell this is having any effect on him at all, is the way he shifts his hips upward ever so slightly and you feel his long, hard cock press into you insistently.

Oblivious, Fukuchi keeps going, as the member you think is called Nikolai, begins to babble some nonsense, causing a soft murmuring of disagreement to break out.

Before you even have time to process what's happening, Fyodor is lifting you up by the hips very, very slightly so as not to be noticed by the others while beginning to grind you back and forth across his lap, the feeling of his long, narrow cock brushing against you through his pants teasing, yet not enough to satiate your needs.

"What did I say about misbehaving?" he rasps out, and you can't help but try and turn to face him, a small whine slipping out.

Without speaking, he effortlessly grasps your chin and turns your face back to the front in order to not arouse suspicion.

Your breathing grows heavier as you feel his grinding become more incessant, his pants darkening from your slick rapidly pooling from between your thighs.

Meanwhile, Nikolai and Fukuchi's dispute had steadily grown into a heated argument, the sound of them fighting drowning out any other disturbances as you begin to roll your hips against him, needing more friction for the pulsing of your clit. As you find a perfect pace, you have to bow your head down to hide the expression of ecstasy you're making, soft whimpers and huffs beginning to slip out of you.

Harshly, Fyodor tugs your head back up by pulling you by the hair roughly, his soft accented voice murmuring quietly into your ear, "Not a sound, doll."

You nod, shifting again as you feel him place one hand over your lap, his fingers spreading over your pussy as his other hand grips your waist to continue moving you back and forth.

And as the argument begins to get more and more out of control, yells of frustration from Fukuchi as Nikolai giggles deviously, you can't help but try and shift to go faster, Fyodor's pace barely satisfying your needs. He quickly puts a stop to that though, his grip tightening to slow you again.

Frustrated, and needing more, you reposition yourself to straddle one of his thighs, the crux of your heat directly between him, and relieving the pressure between your thighs.

He shakes his head slightly, his smooth, accented voice humming into your ear. Normally, he would never condone these actions, always insisting on good behavior, especially in public, but your hopes were lifting as you thought maybe he had finally given into his desires for once.

He begins to bounce you on his knee, pressing into your cunt and causing a soft sigh of relief to leave you as you try to grind against him for more, your stomach tightening.

As his bouncing of you grows gradually faster, you see Sigma glance over at you two, and you instantly freeze, your breath hitching.

You shrink back, waiting for Fyodor to stare at you with daggers in his eyes full of disappointment, anger, and disgust, at misbehaving against his will and getting you both caught.

But instead, Fyodor's cool hands come to grip tightly around your waist and he gazes steadily back at Sigma, tilting his head as if daring him to say something, making direct eye contact as he starts to bounce you on his knee again.

Sigma's cheeks flush pink, and he quickly turns away, back to where Fukuchi has begun to get angrier.

Suddenly, he stands up with a shout. "Alright! Meeting's over! I think we've discussed everything that needs to be taken care of, and quite frankly, I think we're all done with this bullshit!"

With that, he storms out of the room, Nikolai practically hysterical as he prances after him. Sigma and Bram exchange looks before dutifully filing out of the room as well, leaving you and Fyodor alone together.

The second the door clicks shut, Fyodor has you flipped in an instant, lifting you by the thighs to press you against the table the meeting had just been held at, hovering over you. His cool breath fans across your face, his Russian accent coming out more strongly than usual as he bends down to kiss you ferociously, tongue gliding precisely across your mouth.

"What a little slut you are, Myshka," He shakes his head in amused disbelief, surprising you as you wait nervously for anger to flash across his face. "Demanding my attention in the middle of a meeting like that."

You whimper in response, tangling your hands in his long hair as you pull off his ushanka.

"Open your mouth." He demands, voice slightly raspy as he tilts your face up to his, and you don't hesitate to obey, opening wide enough to allow your pink tongue to loll out.

Fyodor leans over you for a second before spitting softly, even his saliva slightly cool and minty-tasting in your mouth. You swallow instinctively, much to his pleasure as he murmurs at the sight, tracing a finger down your throat to follow the movement.

You whine again, trying to shift against where he has your hips firmly pinned to the table underneath you, and finally he relents, prying open your legs as he pushes down his pants enough to reveal his impressively long, narrow cock.

"Is this what you wanted, love? Is it why you interrupted my meeting with your relentless desires?"

As you nod desperately, his hand comes to your throat, tightening as he begins to push his length into your sopping cunt, stretching you obscenely around him.

"Just couldn't wait, hm?" His tone has a slight edge to it that you would've paid more attention to if you weren't in absolute euphoria at how he prodded at all the right spots in you.

You moan in reply as he begins a steady pace, his movements every bit as calculated and meticulous as he was, brushing your cervix with every thrust.

Your cunt sucks him in further, lewd squelching sounds ensuing as you get more and more worked up, knowing you weren't going to last from just how long you had been craving this, craving him.

And just as you're teetering on the edge, crying out his name softly as he praises and urges you on, mere seconds from allowing white-hot pleasure to lick through your entire body, he stops.

"Do you really think you deserve anything?"

You look up to see his face resembling the one you had expected to see earlier, expression turning angry and displeased as all the daggers he had been saving are now thrown in your face. "I don't think you do."

He pulls out, leaving you feeling empty as fear and pain seizes your chest, feeling the most scared you've ever felt of Fyodor before. You knew it was too good to be true, escaping without punishment for your earlier actions.

"Dirty little whores like you deserve to become prostitutes on the streets." He looks you over one more time, before turning away, smoothing his coat down, and adjusting his pants. "Disgusting."

You swallow. "Fedya I..."

"Don't say my name with that filthy mouth of yours, until you've learned your place. I gave you the privilege of coming to one of my meetings, and you decided to display yourself like a common slut. Did you enjoy having Sigma watch your little debacle, is that it?"

You quickly shake your head protesting. "N-no! No I swear I..."

His palm comes to strike your cheek, making your head whip to the side as you gasp.

"I never said you could speak. And you're not going to, until you can learn to know your place, and become a proper woman, one that I would be proud to display to my members."

And it's in that moment that you realize, just like all his other victims, you had fallen into the infamous Fyodor Doestovsky's traps, all the love and affection he had once showered upon you proving only a way to make you stay with him forever, desperate for his validation, until there was nothing left of you.

tagslist (ask to be tagged!): @sakui1 @rosebluuod @kissesmellow21 @snowsilver2000

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dirtytomatoedwrites · 3 days ago

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I WAS NEVER THERE - PART 1

FIRST IMPRESSIONS

Summary: Steve returned to the 1940s to find the life he thought he wanted. But desire has its own plans—and he’s found someone who knows exactly how to feed it.

Paring: Steve Rogers/Reader Steve/Peggy

Warning: 18+ mature dark themes. Smut, Drama, Romance, BitterSweet / Possessive / Obsessive behaviour, Cheating.

Strictly 18+ No Minors to Interact.

Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Steal my writing or the writing of others and karma will get ya.

Dinner parties always bore you.

The fakery. The snobbery. The same faces. The same drivel. Did you know so-and-so’s son just got accepted into Harvard? Did you know so-and-so is engaged? It was always the same stories, recycled, retold on the last Friday of every month. Births, deaths, marriages, followed by a barrage of questions about your personal life.

You had slipped up once and made the mistake of mentioning to an acquaintance that you were single. Since then, these monthly shindigs came with an onslaught of introductions, with someone constantly trying to pair you with their son, their friend, or even their grandson. Their personalities, just like their names, blended together in bland tedium.

Tonight, you were huddled in a corner with Nancy, trying your best to avoid your latest suitor, Harold—the accountant from Scottsdale, when Nancy gave you a quick jab with her elbow.

“Peggy’s arrived,” Nancy hissed. “And she’s with Steven”. Your eyes followed the direction of her not so subtle head nod.

“Ah yes, the infamous fiancé back from the dead. What year did he supposedly time travel from? Twenty nineteen?” you whispered back, sarcasm thick in your tone as you scanned the crowd.

You had overheard snippets of conversations over the last few weeks about a love story transcending time and space. Brave and valiant, Steven had apparently given up a life full of every technological advancement imaginable all for Peggy, the love of his life.

Naturally, your mind reeled with disbelief. What kind of man would sacrifice a future brimming with endless possibilities just to return to his past? Was a domestic life with Peggy really that rewarding?

You thought back to your own past relationships—acquaintances and budding romances alike that had barely stayed faithful or fizzled out over trivialities. Men who chose women based on looks, status, or in your case who your father was.

The more you considered Peggy and Steven’s so-called love story, the more absurd it all seemed. He had to be a fool, you reasoned—a handsome one, no doubt, because despite her pretense otherwise, Peggy was always a sucker for a pretty face.

You weren't surprised when your gaze finally landed on the blonde colossus of a man standing next to Peggy. His perfectly styled blonde hair and the way his suit complemented Peggy’s cocktail dress made him look more like a model than anything else. Peggy stood beside him with a smug, sugar-coated grin that was enough to make your teeth ache.

“Wow...He’s something, isn’t he?" Nancy whispered, clearly smitten by the man who shook the hands of Peggy’s friends with a cordial smile. "I was never one to believe in angels, but he’s made a believer out of me.”

"I’m sure he has.” you chuckled.

“Oh, stop it! He’s handsome, charismatic—”

“Prince Charming, right out of a fairy tale…”

“I know you’re being sarcastic.” Nancy said with a ruffle, “But he could have nothing, not a single dime to his name, and I’d choose him over all the Harolds of the world.” her smile turned catty. ‘Wouldn’t you?”

You could feel her eyes gauging your reaction. “Wouldn’t you choose him over all the mugs pulling at your skirt?”

You felt her gaze lingering, waiting for your response, and you knew what she was doing—trying to provoke you. It was for this very reason why you always declined Nancy's invitations for brunch, her shopping trips to Barney's or god forbid, her weekend socials in the Hamptons. Nancy possessed a mean streak unlike any other that made her delight in poking fun at others.

Even with her limited knowledge of you, she managed to unleash her mean streak at every opportunity, often without any provocation.

She turned her attention back to the adoring couple and sighed while twirling a lock of her auburn hair around her finger, her massive engagement ring glinting obnoxiously in the light.

"I don’t know… If it were me and Harold were my only option, I'd be jealous."

“It's quite comical to me how you think looks equate to a good personality?” you replied coolly. “Have you ever stopped to consider why people make certain life choices? Because I have.”

For once, Nancy was quiet, and you savored the brief silence. Laughter erupted nearby as someone cracked a joke, Peggy’s laugh ringing out—loud and genuine. But when your gaze landed on Steven, a strange chill crept up your spine. He was smiling, but his eyes were distant, the warmth never quite reaching them.

“He could live anywhere, be anyone,” you murmured, almost to yourself. “So much power and freedom lies in Steven Rogers hands and yet he chose to come back here. To the past.” You paused, letting the weight of that choice sink in. “And for what? To chase ghosts, to piece together a life long dead and gone?” You shook your head, feeling the oddness of it all. "Can you imagine clinging to that forever?"

Your voice softened, “Sooner or later, he’ll have to face reality—that his happiness is nothing but an illusion.” You looked back at Nancy, meeting her gaze, steady and unblinking. “So no, Nancy, I don’t envy them. I pity them.”

Suddenly you felt a prickle at the back of your neck. A strange, electric pull. You looked ahead and saw piercing blue eyes locked onto yours.

Steven.

Had he heard your conversation?

It seemed impossible—he was all the way across the crowded room, surrounded by Peggy’s friends, and the jazz number blaring from the gramophone drowned out most conversations.

But somehow, his gaze cut through the noise, piercing and direct. It was as if he hadn’t just overheard your words but had found your analysis… amusing. And then, against all odds, he smiled—a slow, deliberate curve of his lips.

There was something in that smile, a peculiar weight that felt almost like acknowledgment. It caught you off guard, and you couldn’t look away.

“Are you okay?” Nancy’s voice snapped you out of your daze.

You blinked, dragging your eyes from Steven. “Hm? Yes, of course, I’m fine, silly."

“You sure?” she pressed. “I called your name several times. You looked like you were in a trance.”

“It’s so stuffy in here, don’t you think?” You said quickly as you handed your half-drunk glass of champagne to a nearby waiter. “I swear, this heat will be the death of me,” you laughed.

His gaze was still on you, making it impossible to breathe.

“If anyone misses me, I’ll be on the balcony,” you said, not waiting to hear Nancy’s response as you ushered your way through a sea of suits and cocktail dresses.

Off to the side, cigarette in hand, you peered down at the bustling city below. New York always shimmered in the summer, its lights twinkling like stars. You found solace in the hum of the streets, the distant sounds of cars and chatter. Up here, you could get lost in the lives of others—an observer in the chaos. Grateful for the privacy, you took a drag of your cigarette and exhaled. You felt like you could finally breathe again.

“Haven’t you heard? They’re bad for you.”

The hairs on the back of your neck stood to attention. Slowly, you turned to see Steven standing in the doorway, his broad shoulders casting a shadow over the small balcony. His hands were casually tucked into his pockets, but his presence was anything but casual.

“Steven, isn’t it?” you asked, exhaling smoke as you pulled another cigarette from your silver case.

“Just Steve,” he corrected with a smile, and you were immediately reminded of those billboard Arrow Collar ads in Times Square—the kind where men stood tall and proud, their smiles oozing confidence.

He walked toward you, every step deliberate, his head held high like he owned the space around him. An Arrow Collar man indeed.

“You seem to have me at a disadvantage." he drawled. "You know my name but I don’t know yours”

You mentioned your name as you handed him a cigarette. Steve took your hand in his, and pressed a gentle kiss to the back of it.

“Beautiful name,” he murmured, and there’s that arrow smile once again. Gently, he slid the cigarette from between your fingers and lit it with a match. The flame flickered between you, casting a brief glow on his chiseled features.

You took a drag, watching him for a moment.

“So,” you began, as you leaned against the stone balustrade, “how long have you and Peggy known each other?”

“A while,” he drawled, the low timbre of his voice slipped under your skin, causing goosebumps in its wake. “Met through work.” His blue eyes, though bright like a summer sky, carried a weight that felt far more dangerous than their color suggested. He didn’t look at the city; he looked at you.

“Same division?” You glanced away when his stare grew too much.

He paused, a faint smile playing at his lips. “Same division.” he repeated as he flicked ash from the cigarette, then turned the question on you. “And you? How do you know Peggy?”

“She used to work for my father. Now she works for my uncle. Mutual interests and all that.”

"I see," Steve said, nodding slowly. "Small world."

The silence that followed wasn’t just empty—it was loaded, buzzing with an undercurrent of something forbidden. Steve didn’t break it with meaningless small talk or faux politeness.

Instead, he just stared at you like you were the only thing that mattered, his eyes dark and intense, stripping away any façade.

As he lifted the cigarette to his lips, his tongue brushed over its edge with a deliberate slowness—a move meant to unsettle, to pull your attention and hold it there. Smoke curled upwards, but his gaze never wavered, a silent challenge sparking in his eyes: You think you know me? Here, let me show you.

Gone was any attempt to hide behind propriety. The mask of the charming fiancé slipped completely, and what was left was startling in its intensity—. Steve wanted you and he made no effort to disguise it. And in the heavy quiet, an unspoken question lingered between you both: Were you interested?

You took a steadying breath, willing yourself to maintain composure despite the relentless pull of his gaze, the softness of his lips as he pulled from his cigarette and exhaled. This was Peggy’s fiancé, after all, what was there to even say?

“It was nice meeting you,” you said finally, your voice calm and collected even though you felt it tremble “I’ll let you finish your cigarette.”

You stubbed yours out on the stone plinth beside you and turned, heading back inside. As you reached the glass doors, you caught his reflection, and you saw him crush his cigarette beneath his shoe, his gaze still following you as he watched you retreat.

As you stepped back inside, the noise and chatter of the party seemed to blur, fading under the weight of what had just happened. You felt him before you saw him—Steve, now beside Peggy, the mask of his perfect relationship slipping neatly back into place, as if nothing had happened. But you knew. And so did he.

Thanks my lovelies. I hope you've enjoyed it. Part 2 coming soon...Comments and reblogs are always appreciated.

STORY MASTERLIST / MY MASTERLIST

#steve x reader smut #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers smut #steve rogers imagine #Captain America #steve rogers x y/n

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thisnameisnotspokenfor · 3 days ago

Text

Chapter snippet

((they're sitting down at the edge of the forest near Banquo))

“Are the towers always lit like that?” asked the star’s voice as she heard him move.

“Only when storms are approaching,” she replied, somewhat surprised to see them all burning so brightly together tonight but as she said, it was to be expected given the possible storm that loomed on the horizon.

“Hmm,” the star hummed thoughtfully as she heard the breaking of branches. “It’s almost like they’re arranged in a pattern of some sort,” the star spoke as he thoughtfully glanced at the flickering towers.

“They probably are,” Asha sighed. “Seeing as how Lord Vitrius was around when he and the astronomers named the place, I wouldn’t be too surprised if someone like him with a cartographic background had a hand in designing certain landmarks like this….”

“You know about Tau Vitreus?”

“A little bit,” she confessed. “Yesterday the prince had given me his manuscripts that he’d obtained while in exile. He thought there was something more to them than what met the eye, given how hard Vitrius had tried to destroy them before he died. I did some digging about him in the library and ended up stumbling across his journal….I couldn’t find much on the manuscripts, but I know that he was my father’s master, and he wanted him to find something before he suspiciously departed Rosas.”

“And have you found it?”

“Found what?”

“The thing that the prince wanted you to decipher?”

“Ha! How could I when he doesn’t even trust me enough to fully transparent with me? He must’ve been insanely desperate to have gotten me involved in the first place given how he couldn’t even be bothered to bring me back any sort of gift! And I mean, I know it sounds insanely entitled given the circumstances and what he went through, but I can’t help but feel as if the prince himself never really placed any true meaningful value or thought into our friendship… come to think of it, maybe none of them ever did…”

“Even Dahlia?”

“Yes? No? “Uh, I don’t know!” ” she scowled as she drew her knees to her chest.

She’d let the conversation lapse into silence as her eyes had remained solely focused on the distant lights of Banquo. The city looked lively tonight, probably with last-minute preparations for the fair tomorrow she thought.

A distraction had been what the star had called this nightly venture. But the cool night breeze had done nothing to soothe her aching mind as she’d constantly tended to the stray tears that escaped her every so often.

“Asha?” Came Cepheus’s voice. “Are you feeling better?”

Yes, she could already feel the words forming on the tip of her tongue as they’d done so many times in the past. I’m fine. Everything is fine. Everything was always fine, wasn’t it?

So why couldn’t she put herself back together?

Even in the worst of times, she’d always been able to pick herself up and put the pieces of her heart back together. Maybe her fixed heart had never quite perfectly resembled what it had been before, but at least it had looked similar to a heart, or what she’d thought had been acceptable enough to pass for one even with all its cracks and fractures.

But this time, she wasn’t quite sure what it would look like if she’d ever been able to put it back together…nor was she certain that it would ever be good enough….

Nothing was ever good enough…

Not her, and not her heart….

“I…I’m sorry, she sobbed and feebly wiped her tears. “I know you’re trying to help me, and I really appreciate it, I just….I don’t think I’ll ever feel better…I don’t know how,” she confessed, staring at her lap as the tears began to blur her vision. “I don’t know anything…not about my family, my home, and or even myself…”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

She shook her head, unable to give voice to the strange yet selfish desire that had begun to eat away at her. She didn’t know why she would feel that way over a boy, a being she’d only known for a few days… but she had a sinking suspicion that it had been because of the way things had been going.

In the past few days, Her life had undeniably fallen apart and with every crack and rupture that had appeared, she’d only had one person or place to turn to.

She shook, trying to ignore how cold the passing breeze felt as she tightly tugged at her tear-stained skirts.

She wasn’t sure how long they’d sat there in silence before he’d suddenly stood up. She’d nearly been about to ask him what was wrong when he quickly unfastened his cape. Promptly removing it from his shoulders before gently placing it on hers.

The warmth immediately enveloped her as she watched the star re-took his seat next to her.

Had he just? No, he couldn’t have-?! She thought, staring at the beautiful glowing cape that now adorned her shoulders as the star laughed.

Had he really just given his cape to her so nonchalantly?! She could scarcely believe it as she took in the sight and feel of the cape, taking note of the cape’s smaller details of constellations and clouds that she’d failed to notice before.

Calling the cape beautiful was an understatement, she thought, feeling somewhat grateful for the protection it had now put between her and the wind.

She knew she should’ve said thank you, or at least something to the star who sat beside her, more focused on Banquo than anything else, but as her heart began to race she had no choice but to sink within the cape’s warmth, muttering a garbled thank you that not even the star would be able to understand.

She wasn’t sure how long they’d sat there in silence before he’d spoken again, this time to ask,

“Asha…Have you ever been to any other countries?”

“No…It’s too expensive…” she confessed, trying to ignore the pang of jealousy she felt as she remembered how frequently the royals and nobles used to travel. “But I’ve always dreamed of going to Corona. For a time I even thought about becoming a diplomat just so I could have an excuse to get a change in scenery…”

“So why didn’t you?”

“I wanted to focus on my father’s work instead…” she confessed, as she stared at the cape’s edges. “it made me feel as if I’d gotten to see a side of him I would have seen if he’d never passed…or what he would’ve wanted me to do if he’d survived…I just can’t believe he wouldn’t have wanted me to be a part of it…I thought if there was anyone who’d always believe in me then it would’ve been him…but now…I’m not even sure anymore.”

“I can’t speak for your father, but maybe his request had come from a place of concern rather than disappointment. Remember he was as much of your father as he was an astronomer, and with the order probably well gone by the point you’d enter into his life, you’d probably taken top priority to him at that point. So thinking of it from a parent's point of view, why would he want you to live The life of an astronomer, one that has never been particularly easy nor 100% safe, even at the height of their power? If something had caused the order to collapse surely he wouldn’t have wanted you to be caught up in it as well…”

“I guess…that does make sense…but what exactly am I supposed to do without his legacy? Everything I’ve endured and put up with was because I always told myself that it was for a greater purpose, that I had a greater purpose! It’s the only reason why I was able to get an apprenticeship in the first place or even get the manuscripts to learn about Tau Vitrius from the prince! It was all because people thought I was destined to follow in my father’s footsteps, and I was fine with that! I could live with that! But now I see that in this world with people like the king and beings like you I have….nothing…for no one…”

“I wouldn’t say that-,”

“Why not?”

“Well, it’s not like you’ve depleted all your options. You’ve been stuck in the same role for five years…“You know your life is too short to not be expanding your horizons, Asha.”

“Is it?” she asked as she began to pace. “What point is there in moving elsewhere? People from all over love and admire the king and his powers. Once they figure out I’m his useless former apprentice I doubt they’d even bother entertaining an introduction. There’s just no place in this world for me or my inventions.”

“Then why not look elsewhere?”

“Elsewhere?” she stared at him in disbelief. “Cepheus where exactly can I look? The royal family has been all over the world whether it be for creational or job-related affairs, and every time they return they tell me just how much the world appreciates their powers and whatnot. How exactly am I going to compete against that?”

“Maybe you don’t have to compete…Have you ever thought about going to outer space?”

“Outer Space?” she frowned, risking a glance at the star. “Cepheus that’s not possible-,” Her voice trailed off at the teasing expression on her face before she promptly shook her head.

“Fine. Cepheus that’s not practical.”

“Why not?” he frowned. “We’ve taken astronomers up to space before and things were perfectly fine.”

“Astronomers?” she scowled. “I’m sorry you mean the same group of people that my own father didn’t want me to have anything to do with in regarding his past with your kind for best case scenario my safety and worst case, because of my incompetence?”

“Well yeah, but your mother said that he never had an issue with you studying the art of astronomy-,”

“Yes but not the part that actually important part that involved your world remember?”

Cepheus leaned back, his eyes nearly lost in thought as if he’d been contemplating something before he shook his head. “I thought you wanted to help me restore the order? Didn’t you want to be a part of it?”

She had. God knows that for some insane reason, a small part of her had wanted to. But could she take that chance given what she knew now? Knowing that she wasn’t supposed to be a part of his world? “I told you I was a selfish person Cepheus.”

#the kingdom of the stars #wish au #this chapter is MAULING ME SO BAD #someone pls send help

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sequinsmile-x · 2 days ago

Text

The Call

Movie night was, of course, Penelope’s idea.

AKA - the one where a classic horror film makes Emily, who is freshly back from Paris, panic, and it changes things between her and Aaron forever.

-x-

Hi besties,

Happy Halloween to those who celebrate it! I hope you all have fun and eat all the candy your heart desires.

I did a little poll for what Halloween fic you guys wanted, and the results were so close I decided to do both!! This one won so I've done it first, and the cute family one with them in matching costumes will hopefully go up tomorrow!

I hope you enjoy this, and as always please let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: brief/non specific references to PTSD

Words: 3.9k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

Movie night was, of course, Penelope’s idea.

Ever since Emily’s return from Paris, from the dead, both Penelope and Dave were going to great lengths to bring the team back together, to erase the pain from the last year. It’s why she agrees to go to movie night in the first place, even though it’s truly the last thing she wants to do.

She’d only been home for a handful of weeks. She still felt unsteady, the path beneath her feet uneven and paved with the choices of her past, decisions she refused to call mistakes no matter how much she despised their outcome. She’d done what she had to - both when she was with Ian, and when she was protecting the team, the closest thing she had to a family, from him. Her lack of regret didn’t make any of it any easier to deal with. She hated how her friends looked at her sometimes, how they’d look at her as if they didn’t know her. As if she was still dead and buried to them and they were simply looking at a ghost.

Sometimes, she wondered if she was one. The person she was before all of this long gone, with someone else left in her place.

The only person who didn’t treat her that way was Aaron. He didn’t try and pretend everything was okay like Penelope, or look at her like she was a stranger like she’d sometimes catch Derek doing, a spark of betrayal in his eyes that she knows she’ll have to address one day. Aaron simply just let her be. He would take her lead on everything whether it was at work or in their personal lives outside of the BAU. He was kind to her, achingly so, and it only made her one and only regret in this entire mess hurt even more.

Before Sean McAllister had called her, before his warning about Ian had torn her life to shreds, the comfort and safety she’d found in the last few years ripped apart at the seams, she and Aaron had been close to something more than simply being friends.

She helped him after Haley died. Did whatever she could to make him and Jack as content as they could be. She’d cook for them, and go grocery shopping so Aaron didn’t have to deal with crowds of people all going about their day as if his world hadn’t changed forever. She’d spend weekends with them at diners that served smiley face pancakes and then at the zoo, holding Jack on her hip as she let him repeat all the facts he knew about the lions, his fingers curled around a necklace that had since been sold in the liquidation of her estate after her death.

Sometimes, she would catch Aaron looking at her, a glint in his eyes she thought she knew the name of at the time, the same feelings she’d only come to terms with when she found him in hospital after Foyet attacked him. She didn’t know when she’d fallen in love with him. It had happened slowly, taking over bit by bit until she didn’t remember how it felt to not love him. It was only when he was missing, fear a vice around her heart, that she dared to name it. All pretence that it was nothing more than a crush left shattered around her on his living room floor, the pieces of it mixed in with his drying blood and the smell of iron in the air.

She waited. Ignored every moment that felt like it could be their moment, because the last thing she wanted was to be a rebound. A place of misplaced comfort for him after the death of the woman he’d once promised forever to.

Eventually, when he was doing better. When his smile was real and she’d have to clench her fists to stop herself from pressing her thumbs into his dimples, she felt like it might just be their time. Before she could ask him on a date, he beat her to it. His request coming out as a fumbled demand, his eyes wide and cheeks warm with embarrassment as he admitted he hadn’t asked anyone out since he was 16 years old. If anything, it made her love him even more, and she kissed his cheek and told him she’d love a date with him.

Sean called the next day, and her life as she knew it came to an end. She pulled away from him, ignored the look in his eyes when she cancelled their date, and she told herself it was the right thing to protect him and Jack.

Her one regret now she was home, now she was trying to pick up the pieces of who she was and build someone new out of them, was that she’d never kissed him properly. That she’d never pressed her lips against his and found out if it was more than she’d imagined. If their lips would slot against each other like she thought they would, if their noses could squish against each other’s cheeks. She regretted it, because she’d missed her chance. He hadn’t brought up the date they never had, the couple they could have been, and she couldn’t bring herself to do it herself. Couldn’t bear the rejection now he knew the worst thing she’d ever done, his perspective of who she was forever changed by the person she’d actually always been, even if he hadn’t known those parts of her.

She could settle for being his friend. Could accept that was all they’d ever be, but she’d never stop regretting not taking the leap when she had the chance.

She jumps a little when she hears a knock on the passenger window of her car, and she rolls her eyes when she sees Aaron standing outside, a smile on his face as she unlocks the doors.

“You were in your own little world,” he says as he climbs into the car, his smile turning into a teasing smirk, “I was stood there long enough I started to think I’d have to walk to Dave’s.”

She chuckles dryly and raises her eyebrow at him as she watches him click his seatbelt into place, “That’s still an option if you continue to mock your designated driver for the evening.”

His car had broken down, much to his annoyance, and he’d originally said he wasn’t going to go to movie night as a result. She’d immediately offered to drive him, a brief reflection of another time when she’d made the same offer, because she found herself unwilling to spend the evening without him. He hadn’t taken much persuading, although Dave had teased him a little and called him a ‘passenger princess,’ and she was grateful for it, for the comfort his presence brought her in situations where she felt like she had to perform for everyone else.

“You’re right,” he says, his smile not fading, his hands held up in surrender, “I do appreciate you coming to get me.”

She hums as she starts to drive away, “It’s purely selfish really,” she says, smiling as she briefly looks at him, “If you’re not there, who would stop me from snapping spaghetti in front of Dave just to get a reaction?”

He laughs, the sound beautiful and goofy and entirely him, and she feels her heart grow in her chest. She looks back at the road, ignoring what she thinks might be affection in his eyes, convinced she was wrong. “Well, we can’t have that.”

___

He was in love with her.

He’d been desperate to ignore it at first. His attraction to her something that made him feel guilty, the familiar pull in his gut whenever he looked at her, whenever he’d focus on the cut of her jaw and the slope of her neck, quickly turning to irritation aimed at her. He piled it on top of his mistrust of her and her sudden appearance on his team.

As that all faded, disappearing along with his marriage with the signing of divorce papers, leaving just the attraction and something more in its wake. As soon as he started trusting her, he saw everything else he’d been desperately ignoring. Her kindness. Her empathy. Her bravery. How she looked after everyone around her, how she cared for people she loved and the victims of the cases they worked. Everything she did enhanced her beauty, made her more incredible to him, and everything he had found out about her time at Interpol, her time with Ian Doyle, had been no different.

Just when he thought she couldn’t be braver, she had proven him wrong.

He wished so many things were different. He wished she’d spoken to him about it, that she’d given him the chance to help her. He wished he’d asked her out on a date sooner, and that he hadn’t taken her eventual rejection so personally he hadn’t been able to see through it to the panic and fear that laid beneath.

He wished he’d kissed her, just once, so he knew what it felt like.

She was different now she was back. Still her. Still the Emily he loved, but different. Changed by the things she’d been through, by the things she’d died for and the things she’d survived. He knew how it felt to have your life as you knew it torn from under you, how long it took to feel like you were back on an even footing. She’d helped him after Haley died. She’d looked after him and Jack, been whatever they needed her to be. Sometimes he’d watch her, Jack happy and content in her arms as he spoke at her about anything and everything, and he’d find himself impossibly more in love with her.

From the outside, he’s sure they looked like the family he hoped that they one day would be.

He so desperately wanted to pick up where they’d left off. The 9 months without her had been torture, the separation confirming how much he loved her, how much he needed her, but he didn’t want to push her, half convinced that her time away had changed her mind anyway.

He decided he’d follow her lead. He’d happily be her friend for as long as she needed him to be, even if that was forever, as long as he could be in her life in some way.

He’d lived without her before, and he had no intention to do it again.

“So,” Penelope says, clapping her hands together to get everyone's attention, making him jump a little as she draws him out of his thoughts, “Since it’s Halloween tomorrow, I thought we could watch a classic horror,” she pulls a DVD out of her purse and holds it up proudly so they can all see it, the words When a Stranger Calls emblazoned on the front. Penelope sighs when no one else shows the same enthusiasm as her, “Unless anyone else has a better idea.”

“No, that sounds fine,” Dave says, handing her the remote so she can get everything going, “Horror and pasta - the nights in dreams are made of.”

Penelope narrows her eyes at him, “I know you’re making fun of me, but that actually is a perfect evening.”

“I would have thought you weren’t into horror, Baby Girl,” Derek says, his smile amused as he watches her set everything up, “It doesn’t seem like your kind of thing.”

“Usually it isn’t,” she says, sitting next to him on the couch, making a point of sitting as close as possible, “But it’s Halloween, so it has to be done. Plus, it was made in the 70s. It’s not even that scary when you compare it to everything they make these days.”

“I recently saw one set almost entirely in an elevator,” Spencer adds, throwing some popcorn into his mouth, “The twist was predictable.”

JJ rolls her eyes at him, “You think every twist is predictable.”

As the others carry on their discussion, Aaron realises Emily is silent next to him, her shoulders so tight he can practically feel the tension rolling off of her. He looks at her and concern blooms in his gut, her jaw also tense as she stares straight ahead, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.

“Are you okay, Em?” He asks, his voice quiet so only she can hear him. She looks up at him and nods, a short sharp thing that does nothing to convince him.

“I’m okay,” she replies, “Just tired I think.”

He doesn’t believe her, but he lets it go, files it away for later, because the others are quietening down as the movie starts. He barely focuses on it, all of his attention on her, how she holds her breath at certain points, anticipating moments in a movie she’s seen before, the awareness of what is to come somehow making it worse. Her shoulders get impossibly tighter, and he looks down to see her picking at her cuticles. He’s about to reach out to stop her, unable to prevent his hand from moving towards hers, when she sucks in a sharp breath. It sounds painful even to him, drowned out by the infamous line of the movie he wasn’t watching.

"We've traced the call... it's coming from inside the house.”

She stands up suddenly, looking as surprised as everyone else, a flash of something close to fear in her eyes as she walks towards the door.

“Do you want us to pause the movie?” Penelope asks, and Emily’s hand grips the door handle tighter than necessary for a moment before she shakes her head.

“No,” she says, a smile Aaron knows is fake painted across her face, “I’ve seen it before. I just need the bathroom.”

She’s gone before anyone can say anything else, her departure from the room forgotten almost immediately as a jump scare happens on the screen. Aaron gives it a couple of minutes before he goes to check on her, not wanting to draw too much attention to himself or her, and he tells Dave when he asks where he’s going that he’s getting another drink. He heads towards the bathroom, but changes direction towards the front door when he feels a cool breeze and sees the door slightly ajar. He finds her outside, sitting on the top step of Dave’s porch, her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. He walks over, makes sure he’s a little heavy footed so she hears him coming, and he sits next to her. He doesn’t say anything. He simply sits there, providing the silent support he would want in her situation.

“You don’t have to check on me,” she says, clearing her throat as she turns to look at him, tears shining in her eyes that they both ignore.

“Yes I do,” he replies, leaving no room for argument, “Was it the movie?”

She scoffs at herself and nods, “It’s stupid really. I’ve seen it maybe a hundred times. I love horror movies,” she blows out a breath, “But the phone calls. The shadow of the intruder,” she shakes her head and wipes a stray tear from her cheek, “It all felt a little…”

“Close to home,” he finishes for her when she drifts off, and she nods in agreement, looking down at her lap instead of at him.

“Yeah,” she says, swallowing thickly, “Every time I…every time I think I’m doing okay something like this happens. It’s like he keeps taking things from me even though he’s dead.”

He knows she doesn’t want platitudes. That she doesn’t want assurances that everything will be okay, so he doesn’t say them. Holds them back no matter how much he wants to comfort her in that way.

“After Foyet, I had to take down every picture in my apartment,” he says, his eyes fixed on her as she looks up at him, her brows furrowed in curiosity, “Just before he attacked me, and I mean seconds before, I saw his reflection in a picture hanging on the wall. When I got back from the hospital I couldn’t look at them. Every reflection, every change in lighting made me panic.”

“What stopped it?”

He smiles sadly, “Well, it still happens occasionally,” he says, his heart aching when her face falls, “But it got better. I started putting them back up bit by bit,” he smiles fondly, “When Jack came home he asked why the apartment ‘looked boring’ so I put most of them back up then. Except the one I saw Foyet in.”

She hums, her eyes closed as she smiles sadly, “So, you’re saying I need to be patient with myself?”

“I’m saying, Em, that healing isn’t linear. And you should never be mad at yourself for some things being harder than they were before, even if it’s something like not being able to watch horror movies anymore.”

She chuckles, the sound wet as it catches in her throat, “Maybe I should stick to Disney movies with you and Jack.”

He reaches out for her, his hand on her shoulder as he squeezes it, hoping it provides some comfort, “You know we’ll never say no to that,” he says, smiling when she nods, “Do you want to go home?”

“I don’t want the others to know,” she says, her lips pressed together, “It would upset Pen if she knew the film she chose upset me…” she sighs, “And I just don’t want anyone to know but you.”

“No one has to know,” he assures her, and she raises her eyebrows at him, something other than sadness flashing in he eyes as she rolls them at him.

“And how would we get around leaving 15 minutes into the movie?”

“I’ll tell them I don’t like horror films and that I’m going to go,” he says, shrugging one of his shoulders, “And you drove me here, so you have to go too.”

She beams at him, her lips pressed together as she tries to contain it, as if it feels at odds with the emotions still tumbling in her gut, “You’d do that for me?”

He nods and squeezes her shoulder one more time, “I’d do anything for you.”

___

When she wakes up in the morning, she has a headache. She groans as she pulls herself out of bed, rubbing her eyes as she blearily walks out of the bedroom. She yawns as she walks through her apartment, desperate to seek out a cup of tea, but she comes to a stop when she smells bacon, her eyebrows furrowing as she steps into the kitchen and finds Aaron standing at her counter, two plates of pancakes and bacon plated up in front of him.

“I was just about to wake you up,” he says, his smile soft as he looks up at her. He’s still in his clothes from the night before, his polo shirt slightly rumpled and his hair askew, “You could do with going grocery shopping,” he raises his eyebrow at her, “But there was enough for me to make pancakes and I found some bacon in your freezer.”

She opens her mouth to talk, but no words come out, the shock of finding him in her kitchen looking so deliciously domestic, stealing her ability to speak. He’d offered to come to her place with her, able to tell from her behaviour she wasn’t sure how she felt about being home alone after the reaction she’d had to the movie, and he said he’d get a cab home when she was ready for him to leave. They’d watched Star Wars together and shared a bottle of wine. She’d eventually felt brave enough to ask him to stay until she fell asleep, barely able to look him in the eye as she asked. He’d agreed without pause, and they’d said goodnight. She’d slept well for once, something she was sure in part was because she knew he’d been there when she fell asleep, and she wasn’t expecting to find him still here this morning.

“Did you go home at all?”

He looks sheepish as she asks the question, avoiding her gaze as he finishes plating up breakfast, “No,” he says, clearing his throat, “I slept on the couch.”

Her eyebrows raise at that, “Aaron, that couch isn’t big enough to sleep on,” she says, looking him up and down, “You must have been so uncomfortable.”

He shrugs, as if it’s nothing, “It wasn’t that bad,” he replies, and she narrows her eyes at him, “Okay, my back is killing me. But I wanted to be here in case you needed me.”

Suddenly, she can see everything she’s been missing since she came back. The love in his eyes, the way he was looking at her. The way he looked after her at every turn, somehow always managing to be whatever she needed him to be.

They were both idiots.

She walks over, not allowing herself to second guess anything, not herself or their feelings for each another, and she cups his cheeks as she kisses him. He tastes like pancake batter and coffee, and something that she knows is just him. It takes him a moment to respond, the longest in her life, but he does. His hands on her back as he pulls her closer, his nose squished against her cheek as he leans into the kiss.

It answers every question they’d both ever had, and creates more - like how had they lived without this for so long? Why had they delayed what now felt inevitable?

She pulls away when breathing becomes necessary, and she rests her forehead against his, completely unsure what she should say, “I…”

“I think we’ve both been waiting a long time to do that,” he says, cupping her cheek as her hands drift down his chest, eventually landing on his hips.

“Yeah,” she replies, her tongue peeking out to lick her lower lip, chasing the flavour of him, “I think we have,” she stamps he lips against his again, unable to stop herself, the glass broken now she’d done it, “We should talk.”

He nods and kisses her, his hand tangling in her hair, “Good thing I made breakfast,” he says, smiling at her like she’d hung the moon and the stars, as if she’s the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen in her oversized t-shirt and pyjama shorts, “We can eat and talk about everything,” he tucks her hair behind her ear, “But, I think we’ll be on the same page about a lot of things.”

She smiles and rests her forehead against his, “I think we will be,” she smiles, happiness flooding through her chest, “I was going to tell you that I have a spare bedroom, in case you ended up sleeping over in future to save your back,” she chuckles when his eyes go wide, internally cursing himself for the unnecessary back pain, “But I have a feeling you won’t be needing it,” she runs her fingers through his hair, flattening it out, “The mattress in my room is much better anyway.”

He kisses her to stop himself from saying he loves her then and there, and she does the same, pouring everything she doesn’t have the words for yet into it.

She loved him, and he loved her too, and for now, just knowing that would be enough for them both.

#hotchniss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner fanfiction #emily prentiss fanfiction #aaron x emily #hotchniss fan fic #hotchniss fanfic #aaron hotchner #hotchniss fanfiction

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millersgirl80 · 3 days ago

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Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby (18+)

Pairings: DBF!Joel x reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings:unprotected P in v shit (keep ya shit wrapped people), age gap (24,36), Joel kinda sucks in this 😩🫣

Summary: You finally act on your feelings towards your dad’s best friend.

My notes: I’m hoping to turn this into a series 🤭🫣 also credit to the owners of the pictures and banner! I can’t remember the name

"It's just a harmless crush," I told myself for the hundredth time, trying to downplay the intense attraction I'd felt for Joel ever since I was a teenager. I was now a 24-year-old woman, but the way my heart fluttered at the sight of my dad's best friend hadn't changed one bit.

Joel was a tall, ruggedly handsome man with broad shoulders and a chiseled jawline, his chocolate hair and tanned skin. He embodied the classic Texas gentleman, always polite and charming, but with a hint of a wild side that I found utterly irresistible.

As I stood in the kitchen, cleaning up dinner from my dad, Joel,and I. I couldn't help but notice the way Joel's eyes lingered on me a little too long as he helped clean the table. His stoic demeanor often hid his emotions, but I could sense a subtle shift in his gaze whenever our eyes met. My short, petite frame seemed to catch his attention, and I wondered if he noticed the way my curves had developed over the years.

"Thanks for helping out, Joel," my dad said, clapping him on the back. "I appreciate you always being there for us."

Joel smiled, his eyes softening as he looked at my dad. "Of course man, always happy to help” My dad pats Joel on the back walking to the fridge to grab a beer, walking to the livingroom.

My dad had been a widower for as long as I could remember, my mom died after I was born, and Joel had become like an uncle to me, always there for family gatherings and special occasions. But as I grew older, my innocent crush transformed into something more intense, something I knew I had to keep hidden.

After I cleared the table, my hands trembling slightly as I stacked the dishes. Joel offered to help, his broad hands brushing against mine, sending a jolt of electricity through my body. I caught him staring at my lips as I spoke, and I couldn't help but wonder if he felt the same desire.

"I'll take these to the sink," I said, my voice hoarse as I tried to maintain my composure. I wanted to be alone with him, to explore this attraction that had been simmering for years.

In the kitchen, I leaned against the counter, my heart pounding in my chest. I knew it was wrong, but the temptation was too strong. I had to act on my feelings, even if it meant crossing a line that could never be uncrossed.

Joel entered the kitchen, his tall frame filling the doorway. "Everything alright in here?" he asked, his deep voice sending shivers down my spine.

I took a deep breath, my eyes locking with his. "Yes" I nod, my voice catching in my throat.

He took a step closer, his eyes darkening with an unspoken desire. "What is it, sweetheart?"

The way he called me 'sweetheart' sent a rush of warmth between my thighs. I wanted him to call me that as he drove his body into mine, claiming me as his. I knew it was wrong, but the thought of being forbidden fruit only made the temptation sweeter.

"I've always had a crush on you, Joel," I blurted out, my words spilling out before I could stop them. "I know it's wrong, but I can't deny it anymore."

His eyes widened, and for a moment, I thought he might reject me. But then, a slow smile spread across his face, revealing a hint of mischief. "I know darlin’ I seen the way you’ve looked at me"

I felt my cheeks flush, but I stood my ground. "I'm an adult now, Joel. And I want you. I know it's wrong, but I can't ignore these feelings any longer."

Joel took another step forward, his tall, muscular body now mere inches from mine. "And what do you want me to do about it, hmm?" His voice was low and husky, sending a thrill through my body.

I swallowed hard, my gaze dropping to his lips. "I want you to kiss me, Joel. I want to feel your lips on mine."

Without another word, he closed the distance between us, his strong arms pulling me against his chest. His lips claimed mine in a hungry kiss, his tongue sliding against mine in a passionate dance. I moaned into his mouth, my hands gripping his broad shoulders.

Joel's hands roamed over my body, cupping my breasts through my shirt, his thumbs rubbing against my hardening nipples. I arched into his touch, my breath coming in short gasps. "Oh, Joel," I whispered, "I've wanted this for so long."

He broke the kiss, his breath hot against my ear. "I want you too, sweetheart."

I giggled, a mix of nerves and excitement. "Then don't resist anymore, Joel."

His hands slid down my body, tracing the curve of my waist before landing on my hips. He pulled me closer, his hard cock pressing against my stomach through our clothes. I could feel his desire, his need for me, and it only fueled my own hunger.

Joel pulled away, my body buzzing with anticipation, my heart pounding as I waited for Joel to make his move.

It was a bold choice, I know especially with my dad in the room down the hall, but the thrill of getting caught only added to the excitement. I had been dancing around this forbidden desire for far too long, and tonight, I was finally going to give in to my cravings.

As I leaned against the countertop, my fingers traced the cool marble, feeling the smooth surface under my fingertips. The kitchen was my domain, a place where I usually found comfort in baking and cooking, but tonight, it would become the setting for something far more intimate. The soft glow of the pendant lights above highlighted my curves, accentuating my slender waist and full breasts, which strained against the thin fabric of my camisole. I felt sexy and powerful, ready to take control of this situation.

Joel, standing across from me, was a towering figure, his broad chest rising and falling with each heavy breath. His usual playful smile had been replaced by a look of raw hunger, one that sent a shiver down my spine. I knew that look; it mirrored the longing I had tried to hide for years.

"Darlin," he whispered, his deep voice sending a thrill through my body. "Are you sure about this? We can't be caught."

I bit my lower lip, my eyes never leaving his. "I've never been more sure of anything, Joel. And I know you do too."

He took another step closer, his strong hands gripping the edge of the countertop on either side of my hips, caging me in. I could feel the heat radiating from his body, and my nipples tightened in response, pressing visibly against the flimsy fabric of my top.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this," he growled, his breath hot on my neck. "I've dreamed of tasting every inch of you, but I had to respect your dad's wishes. He's my best friend, and I couldn't betray his trust."

I turned my face up to his, my lips brushing against his stubble-covered jaw. "He doesn't have to know. He doesn’t own me, Joel. I'm a woman now, and I make my own choices."

With that, I reached up and pulled his head down, capturing his lips with mine. The kiss was explosive, filled with years of pent-up longing and unspoken desire. Our tongues danced feverishly, exploring and claiming each other. I could taste the hint of whiskey on his breath.

My hands found their way under his shirt, mapping the contours of his muscular back. His skin was warm and smooth, a stark contrast to the roughness of his hands as they traveled up my thighs, I moaned into his mouth as his fingers brushed against the sensitive skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

Breaking the kiss, Joel stepped back, his eyes dark with need. He slowly peeled off his shirt, I couldn't help but admire his physique, the product of years of hard work and dedication.

"I want to see all of you," he rasped, his voice thick with lust.

I smiled, feeling empowered by his desire. With slow, deliberate movements, I untied the straps of my dress and let it slide down my arms, baring my breasts. My nipples, already hard and puckered, strained towards him, begging for attention.

With a growl, he spun me around, pressing me against the countertop. His strong hands gripped my hips, and I felt the hard length of his erection against my buttocks. He kissed and nibbled the sensitive skin of my neck, sending shivers down my spine.

"God, I've wanted to do this for so long," he murmured between kisses. "I want to make you feel so good, Darlin."

His words sent a rush of wetness between my thighs, and I pushed back against him, seeking relief from the growing ache. Joel's hands slid over my ass, before he slapped the right cheek.

Then, with a firm grip on my hips, he pulled me back against him, aligning his thick shaft with my wet slit. I could feel the broad head of his cock probing at my entrance, teasing me with its promise of pleasure.

"Please, Joel," I begged, my voice hoarse with need. "I need you inside me."

He obliged, thrusting his hips forward, impaling me with one smooth stroke. I gasped as he filled me completely, stretching me around his thick girth. One hand held my hip firmly, ensuring I took every inch of him, the other across my mouth.

"Fuck, you feel so good," he grunted, his breath hot against my ear. "So fucking tight and wet."

He began to move, pulling almost entirely out before slamming back into me, his balls slapping against my clit with each deep thrust. The countertop provided support as I braced myself, my hands gripping the edge as Joel pounded into me with abandon. The sound of our bodies slapping together filled the kitchen, mingling with our muffled moans and gasps.

I could feel my orgasm building, a tingling sensation starting at the base of my spine and spreading throughout my body. Joel's hand lets go of my hip and his fingers found my clit, circling the hard bud as he continued to thrust, driving me closer to the edge.

"Come for me, Darlin," he urged, his voice strained. "Let me feel you milk my cock."

His dirty words were all it took to send me over the precipice. I cover my mouth and cry out as my body jerks around his cock as waves of pleasure washed over me. Joel grunted, his thrusts becoming more erratic before he pulls out and emptied his load on my ass.

I straighten up, my heart pounding in my chest, as I watched Joel hastily adjust his clothes, his face flushed with a mixture of pleasure and guilt.

I could see the conflict in his eyes. Composing myself, I reached for my dress, my fingers trembling slightly as I buttoned it up, trying to ignore the desire still coursing through my veins. Joel, usually so confident and charming, seemed at a loss for words. His usual easy-going demeanor had vanished, replaced by a look of torment.

"Darlin, we can't do this. It's wrong," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. I paused, my hand frozen on the last button. "Why? What just happened between us was... incredible. We've both wanted this for so long." I spoke with conviction, determined not to let him push me away.

Joel ran a hand through his dark hair, a gesture I'd seen him make countless times, but now it seemed laden with uncertainty. "I know, honey. I want you more than I've ever wanted anyone. But I'm your dad's best friend. He trusts me, and I can't betray that trust. I have to think of the consequences." I felt a stab of disappointment, but I refused to give up. Stepping closer, I placed my hand on his broad chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart beneath my palm. "Consequences be damned, Joel. We're both consenting adults. We can keep this between us, a secret. No one has to know."

He captured my hand in his, his rough fingers entwining with mine. "It's not that simple, Darlin. Your dad and I go way back. I've known you since you were a little girl. I never imagined..." His voice trailed off, and he shook his head as if trying to clear his thoughts.

Then let's not overthink it," I whispered, leaning in close, my breath caressing his ear. "We can't deny what we feel. I want you, Joel. I've wanted you for as long as I can remember. And I know you want me too."

A shudder ran through his body at my words, and I saw the battle raging within him. "God, Darlin, what ya want me to tell you," he admitted, his voice gruff. "I can't. I won't risk our friendship, or worse, your father finding out. It would destroy him."

I pulled back, hurt and frustration welling up inside me. "So, that's it? You're just going to walk away? After what we shared?" My voice trembled, and I struggled to keep my emotions in check. Joel stopped looking over his shoulder before walking out.

#joel miller #pedro pascal #joel miller the last of us #hbo joel miller #pedro is daddy #joel x reader #joel miller loves big girls #joel tlou #pedro x reader #joel smut #dbf!joel #game joel miller #joel miller x reader #young joel miller #joel miller tlou #tlou fic #tlou

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here-there-were-dragons · 4 months ago

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i have to wonder what super hardcore militant vegans think should be done about obligate carnivore animals, because in all my painfully-rapidly-approaching-30-years i've literally never actually seen anyone give a clear consistent much less halfway feasible answer on that

#mostly i've just seen like “how dare you ask questions you just want an excuse to murder you're sealioning ect”#or worse some vague and wildly improbable nonsense about like. fake robot animals covered in beyond meat or something equally convoluted #which is a thing i did see someone suggest as a serious answer #i mean i already know they think i'm a genetically inferior hateful vampire that should starve to death for the greater good #because my exact combination of health conditions make meat basically the only semi-safe way i can get close to enough nutrients #i know this because they have repeatedly told me that i'm either evil or should be sacrificed or both #and yelled at me for asking questions by bringing up the whole disabled thing and then they're like #“a lot of vegans i know are advocates for disability!” as if that ever means jack shit in the society that results from anything #no matter what you do a vast majority of people in any given society will *not* be advocates for the disabled. i'm sorry they just won't.#and what do you think public perception of people who physically can't survive like that is going to skew towards #in a society founded on the belief that non-vegan diets are evil?#at absolute best we're looking at being a heavily marginalized class generally seen as something like vampires and our existences taboo.#(as if these type's own insistence that they should be allowed to harass and shame people doesn't disprove their assertion that we won't be #thinking it could possibly go any better than that is a fucking fairy tale. human nature doesn't work that way.#you simply cannot eliminate the human desire to designate and abuse a class of have-nots. the absolute best you can do is mitigate damage.#take it from someone who's been multiple kinds of disabled and chronically ill all my life. people will not “just”. ever.#i get this even from people who are otherwise very aware of and VERY GOOD at avoiding this sort of thinking #“i'm a disability advocate!” no you are not. you are a poster. my experience has taught me that what people advocate for in their free time #means precisely jack shit for how they will actually act when faced with the situations they make otherwise rational posts about #and the fact of the matter is even if you somehow really are the perfect disability advocate a majority of people WILL NOT BE YOU.#a majority of people in society will be margrat from accounting who clutches her pearls when she sees the gays and thinks autism isnt real #and who has never had a nuanced thought in her life and actively does not want to #a vast majority of people in your Vegan Utopia will not be you and your friends who march with wheelchair users and volunteer at the shelte #a vast majority of people in your Vegan Utopia will be jenny who starved 8 cats to death on broccoli because she can't be bothered #and who thinks that “carnivores” are actual nazis and don't deserve healthcare because she saw someone say that online.#ALWAYS assume your society will be made up mostly of the worst kind of person it can because it WILL ALWAYS BE TRUE and you can't change it #most people seek the low-effort option. and evil is most often banal and low-effort.#i'm just so fucking tired of every single even vaguely lefty-adjacent political movement simultaneously acting like i don't fucking exist #and at the same time that i need to be sacrificed to achieve Utopia. god. at least conservative whackjobs are upfront and honest about #how they think that i'm a burden on society that needs to be Eugenics'd . rather than trying to morally gaslight me about it.

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royalberryriku · 1 month ago

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Gonna review all the sources I've been provided with (they're damning for the zio so rip to them but thanks for the sources lmao), and been searching through more sources from the time periods in question and, well, basically I started a thing.

(sorry for the blurriness) An overall essay going through the evidence and providing a small splash of input as someone noticing a lot of discord in said evidence, which isn't surprising but still it is telling how zionists cherry pick.

Anyway, the more I learn, the more I realise that there's a lot of political and nationalistic push to emit details in some papers, while pushing for certain conclusions based on the framing of the research for others. I think this is legitimately just unproductive when acknowledging the subjectivity of history as a study and the way certain overlap may point to a conclusion that isn't preferable by a variety of people, from researchers to the intuitions that may use or pay for the research to begin with. I find this in studies that delve into contentious topics in general. It's why it's so important to note the overlap and notice the inevitability of bias in understanding these topics.

As far as the history the Middle East goes and who colonised who, I think many disregard the simple theory that, perhaps, colonisation itself can be something inflicted by the post-colonised and equally be something done to a group with connections to conquest, ultimately making both the same in terms of land rights and the concept of legal ownership. Or, more specifically, that Zionists' attempts to become conquests have since reduced their claim, just as it would reduce a Babylonian, despite their deep links to the land and, arguably, being one of the first social groups before or at the same time as the Israelites.

History and Carbon Dating specifically become difficult to assign moral value of land rights to when cultures blossom and change in such extreme ways (to the point of being unrelated or unrecognisable with those from ancient eras) with the passing of time. The racial blame placed by Israel is thus shown to be one of mistaken vengeance and generally racial profiling of modern Arabs, just as the Persian, Turkish, Roman and British empires showed signs of racist attitudes to employ totalitarian tactics of rule over the peasantry. Being the colonised when one is willing to colonise with the same means reduces the ethical claims and, meanwhile, the history itself reflects greater nuance than political nationalists may desire of it.

Ultimately, as I search further and further, I find that the claim of nationalism and identity is a mere shared ideal of all empires formed through conquest and the desire for ownership of abundant resources. Meanwhile, I find that the idea of an ancient homeland to reclaim is obsolete when the people in question do not resemble those they wish to avenge. Culture evolves with geography and time, a constant for every country's history. Religion, culture and the concept of a homeland forms where the resources are abundant, rather than any legitimate greater or lesser claim from neighbouring tribes and civilisations. The wish of a Promised Land is a logical conclusion for any group seeking refuge from the elements; a moral argument filled with human necessity and a shared common ground if faced with an open mind and a willingness to review the past, while simultaneously moving on from it. The complexity becomes simple when it is understood that only the present can take responsibility for the present; and choose a better path than those who horde resources in the modern age of globalised colonialism.

#My thoughts so far #If anyone has anything to add or want to recommend any sources; please let me know #writing #history #essay draft #blog post #history of the middle east #ethics #culture #religion #I will elaborate more later but I will add as well that Israel has genuinely and clearly adopted German nationalism into its belief system #while the most obvious would be the “strongest army in the world” quoted from Germany by Israel #a more direct and consequential one is the usage of land back and homeland to an older ancestry to justify nationalist intent #Regardless of the truth of that claim or not it is one that is weaponised in the same way #but it honestly doesn't matter because the purpose isn't so much about the truth or the genuine pain suffered by past colonializations #but rather to serve a political power that uses a totalitarian method of conquest in the name of that ethos #it is one that is founded in European political systems and has since been used by Israel which does use the tactic of victimisation #Which is also what Germany did use to claim they had to invade #And yes similar (though not as directly copied) tactics have been used in the past; even against the ancient Israelites #The Roman Empire even coined the term that perfectly describes this tactic;#"Two things only the people anxiously desire — bread and circuses.”#A spectacle to distract from the inner political issues and inequalities has always been a tactic employed by conquests and colonisations #And yes Israel has used it as well and it results in a genuine hatred of Israel for what it has done and the methods used #So when I look back at the history of colonisation I do see a lot of patterns and a lot of the same justifications #If it weren't happening today and were a historic event I would even call it fascinating how such methods are passed down specifically-#-within and around the Asian Eurasian and European regions #It's why Israel as an existence is antithetical to land back movements and contradictory to arguments of indigenous sovereignty #All the while it being technically true they're (particularly in terms of sacred practices and culture) indigenous to this place #yet it is reduced by the fact the same colonial techniques used against them are ones they now employ and consequentially pass down #The Palestinians are indigenous because they are being colonised and no matter what claim an Israeli may have it becomes redundant

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isekyaaa · 3 months ago

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Tbqh the only reason why I don't write original fiction is because I don't feel confident in writing a realistic man. Which is funny because I can write men in fanfiction, but like.... Tbh, I don't think they're very realistic men either. People don't talk like men from games, manga, etc. Which I suppose someone can say, "Well if fictional men don't sound like real men, then why do you need to worry so much?" And I suppose that's a valid point. But still, regardless of how logical it is, I want to write a realistic man.

#rambles #i think i overthink it #i start diving too deep #'what does it mean to be a man?'#'what does it mean to be a woman?'#'what separates a woman from a man?'#regardless of my opinions on gender i've always spoken like a woman #before one of my online friends found out my ethnicity she thought i was a white girl from california bc i talk in a valley girl sort of way #and i think i let that bother me too much? when it comes to writing i mean #i cant talk like a guy #so if i can't talk like a guy does that mean i wont be able to write a realistic man?#but again what does it mean to be a guy? what does it mean to talk like a guy?#i already know that men are not necessarily more logical than women #and women are not necessarily more emotional than men #but still #the theres the whole psychology of men (specifically amab men)#i dont understand manly pride #i dont understand the desire to be respectedo #i dont understand the desire to protect and provide #nb and trans men may say that desire isnt built into being a man but it sure is for amab men #if you want my personal opinion that my brain believes but every other fiber of my being does not....#other than biological definitions there is no true definition to any of the two binary genders #if you believe to 'feel' like a man or a woman you are basing it purely upon the what society defines to be male and female #there is no true gender experience #you are you #and yet though i believe that i still believe that i can't write a believable man #terrible

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teaboot · 9 months ago

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On of the less intuitive things about love, I've found, of any kind, is the importance of needing things.

I didn't realize it until recently, but I've always seen love as something requiring sacrifice, selflessness, patience, and generosity- to ask for nothing is to be the best person I can be, small and quiet and never in the way, always happy and helpful, self-sufficient and present when desired.

It's only as an adult, now, that I'm beginning to see the selfishness of wanting nothing.

I cut my friend's hair in my kitchen the other day. They wanted a trim and I had the skills, so I offered, and was genuinely excited when they stopped hesitating over "bothering me" and took me up on it. It was a peaceful afternoon, and we had tea and chatted for an hour or more.

My brother and I shared popcorn at the movies a while ago. When I came time to pay, I pulled my card out like a wild western sheriff and slapped it on the machine before he could fight me for it first. The satisfaction was delightful.

Someone called me crying on the phone the other day. Kept apologizing for disturbing me at work, talking about how they were bothering me on my lunch break. I was telling the truth when I told them that really, I was flattered and honored and relieved, knowing that if they were hurting I would know, that I didn't have to worry in silence. It felt good to hear them slowly come down, and to know that they knew it would be better soon, and to hear them laugh wetly on the other end. We're getting together for a visit next week.

It's hard to need things, if you've trained yourself not to. It's hard to want things, when you don't know how to want anymore. Trusting people is difficult, and so is relying on them, but I don't know where I'd be without the people who rely on me.

I've heard a lot of people say, "Nobody will love you unless you love yourself". I've had a lot of thoughts about it. It's not right, but it's not wrong, either, I think.

"Nobody will love you unless you love yourself"... I've always taken that to mean, "You will not be lovable until you develop a positive view of yourself as a person".

Now, I think it's sort of inside-out.

"Nobody will love you unless you love yourself"... because nobody can show their love to you in a way that you can accept until you treat yourself kindly, and learn what you need, and what you want, and how to ask for it, and then give that vulnerability away.

Love, for me, is someone I ask for a ride to the airport. Whether they end up doing this or not is irrelevant.

It's not needy, or selfish, or taking up energy. It's giving the gift of being wanted, and needed, and thought of. It's giving someone the security of being part of someone's life.

#Ramble #Sorry I just took my sleeping pills lol #Seepy

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slugandthorn · 7 months ago

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pain and agony of having so much to learn to make more things but I need a job/further schooling to learn but I have to have made the things first

#.txt #Painful cycle unable to find value in my art but I already gave up and I'm already trying again some one needs to make this easier #And I think my life would be simpler if I just focused on drawing over 3D and tech anim but the time it would take #To function at a professional level as some sort of concept artist.#Also fine artist and concept artist community is well. Unfortunately unbearable.#Lacking so much animation experience in 2D and 3D I'm having trouble focusing on it to move forward.#The most experience I have is in 3D character art at this point probably but inability to finish things which also plagues #Every other concentration. As well.#I am sitting alone in the room trying to find something of value to express and it will never reach anyone. Existential dread like.#I think it's the searching for storytelling skills limiting me because I do not have the competitive nature #To be that into raw technical skills. Which is killing my ability to make a portfolio.#If I had more time to just keep on keeping on at my part time job I think I would just make the graphic novel I want to make.#To have something expressed and in the world. And then I could actually focus on technical things.#But this thinking has just become a roadblock it is not feasible but I do have several paths planned I just have to.#Recognize what is useful to me. But not just giving up anytime I have a new idea.#My interest goes between implementing animation within a greater scene and also the technical minutia I think is whats killing me.#Making multiple portfolios at once. Which isn't so bad bc ideally I'd be doing generalist work. But generalist means more time limitations.#My brain is convinced it can just work past time as a factor. Which is how we reach the problem I am having now (need money).#I think something I need to recognize is I've always thought my perspective and understanding of stories held some value.#But that only stands from my own perspective and it does not have value outside of that.#Even if it does reach other people it does not retain interest. And while it benefits me internally. I'm not making a career of it.#Which is fine.#I think the things I valued from story can still be found in technical skills. And anyone can develop a technical skill with some time.#If I keep my focus.#I think that's something close to a resolution I've been looking for. Been needing some profound change in my life and I think the desire #And constant failure of communication has been what's preventing me from moving forward.#I want to go out and do things. That is possible. Focus on skill and ability. Maybe the other stuff will come later.#Digesting this and hopefully not spending my days sleeping anymore.

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happy74827 · 3 months ago

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Say Yes to Heaven

[Logan Howlett x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Sometimes all it takes is one look. One gesture. One word. One action. To remind them that not everyone sees them the same, and It's enough to send a person over the edge.

WC: 3690

Category: Fluff, First Kiss, Logan’s POV

Another Grumpy!Logan x Sunshine!Reader because it’s my comfort trope ✨🫶

『••✎••』

He never realized how much he wanted someone to care for.

It was something he didn't know he desired. A year ago, he didn't care for a single thing. He felt nothing. He was so numb. So empty.

He was an angry man. The kind of man people kept their distance from. Wade ruined that; he aggravated him so much that Logan started actually caring about his life. And for as much as he despised his fugly ass, he was internally grateful for him. He started to open up more and more.

Wade had a part in taking him out of rock bottom, as they say, but you… you aggravated him in the most endearing way possible. You were so bright, so happy, and full of life. Logan couldn't understand how someone could be like that, and he hated you for it. He thought it was so ignorant of you.

"I mean, come on, how could she be that happy all the time? It's fucking dumb. She doesn't even know me!"

That's what he said to Wade, but his roommate only laughed. He found his frustration hilarious and made fun of him constantly.

And don’t even get started on the way you spoke. Never once have you raised your voice at anyone. You always talked softly, and even if you were pissed off, you still found a way to make your words sound gentle.

The man couldn’t wrap his mind around the way you acted, you weren’t a mutant, but you damn well could have been with that forever customer service smile you wore every day.

The level of patience and understanding you held for people was insane to him, especially the amount of patience you held with him.

He was constantly telling you to fuck off, and you took no offense; you just returned that stupidly kind smile and told him that if he needed anything, you were there for him.

You had no clue what he’s done, what he's capable of, and yet you treat him with the utmost respect. And being a mutant, respect, and kindness were two things he hadn’t received in a very long time.

It made him realize things—about himself and others. He started noticing you a little more—the way you looked and the way you acted. It started out as simple confusion and disgust… the typical reactions one would have when one sees an overly happy person.

But it evolved slowly into intrigue and curiosity.

Then something else. Something he couldn't describe.

His first instinct was to push it away. To try and convince himself, he was disgusted. He did this with everything he felt, but he couldn’t keep lying to himself.

It wasn't disgust.

He couldn't name it; he wasn't ready to, but he knew it wasn’t that.

Wade had noticed the change in him, the way he looked at you, the way he started being a little less rough with the words he chose to say. He didn’t bring it up, but the shit-eating grin he gave each time Logan walked in and saw you was more than enough proof that he had picked up on it.

Of course, it only resorted to grins because the one time he opened his mouth, Logan didn’t restrain himself. He popped his claws and had to go couch shopping the next day.

Whoops.

So, with Wade keeping his mouth shut after being chewed out by Blind Al and Logan trying his best to push away the foreign feelings, it finally reached a point where he could no longer ignore them.

He didn’t understand why, of all nights, it had to be this one, but it was.

It was 3 am, and his old nightmares had come back to haunt him. He was restless, sweaty, and couldn't take another second of sleep.

It took a rinsing of the bathroom sink and a pitiful glare at his reflection for you to return his gaze.

He froze for a second.

You were wearing a large T-shirt, with a pair of shorts underneath. Your hair was messy, but it looked so soft, and your face was clear of makeup, leaving the imperfections of your skin that made you all the more beautiful.

Always wearing a smile. Always greeting him with a soft voice, sometimes a little raspy if just waking up, butnonetheless soft.

But once he rubbed his eyes and let out a tired yawn, you weren’t there anymore.

Because you were never there, you lived across the street. You were in your apartment, sleeping, with no idea that, at that moment, the man who constantly told you to fuck off realized he couldn't stop thinking about you.

The same man who would grunt, scoff, and throw away every kind gesture now realized he secretly cherished them.

He stood there for a moment, just pondering his thoughts. His eyes were still on the spot he saw you in.

His head turned to the right, seeing the digital clock that rested on the nightstand.

3:02 am.

You were asleep…. most likely asleep. You would be unhappy if he came over and woke you up, wouldn't you?

He looked back at the sink.

You could be upset, but you could also be happy. You could give him that smile. That sweet, warm smile.

It would be worth it, right? Just for that?

3:04 am

He didn’t think about it. Not even for a second. Ironically, it started raining as if to test him, but the man was determined.

He put on a jacket to cover his bare chest, threw on some random shoes, and was out the door before his mind could stop him.

3:13 am

He knocked on your apartment door. He was completely drenched from the rain. His hair was messy, his jacket sticking to his body, and his shoes were so wet that the squelching sound they made was the only thing audible.

He heard shuffling. Soft steps coming closer. He could smell your scent. It shocked him how easy it was for him to recognize it.

You unlocked the door. Your brows furrowed in confusion.

His mental image of you being in sleepwear, messy hair, no makeup, had been confirmed. You were beautiful.

You had a tired look, one of the many looks he wasn’t used to. But it was still a good look, and it still held your signature kindness.

He had a feeling it would.

You didn't look too shocked, just tired and confused.

You spoke. "Logan, is…? Are you okay?"

Your voice was even softer than usual, the raspiness it held only making it more comforting.

You were genuinely worried about him, and it hit him then that he was being an asshole. Making you wake up in the middle of the night, and for what? Just because he wanted to see you?

Just because of that, he should’ve given you a reason. An explanation.

He should've asked. He should have done so many things differently, but he didn’t.

His head was in the clouds, and all he could think about was you.

You. That was all.

But his expression gave away that he was in a daze, and your worry only grew.

"Logan? What's wrong?"

You stepped out into the hallway and reached a hand to him.

His heart jumped a bit when you did so. It was just a gesture—one simple act of compassion.

He wasn't worthy of that, but he couldn't resist. He didn't want to.

Your fingers barely brushed against his upper arm before he moved. He grabbed your wrist.

His grip wasn't hard. His hold was gentle, as he had no intentions of hurting you. You could’ve easily pulled your arm away if you wanted to, but you didn't.

His eyes locked with yours. He wasn't sure what possessed him, but it felt so right, so he followed his instincts.

He tugged at your wrist, causing your body to fall into him. Your chest pressed against his. His arms wrapped around you, one hand cupping the back of your neck, the other resting on the small of your back.

The embrace was so sudden, and he knew the situation was far from ideal, but his senses were overflowed by your presence, your scent, your softness.

His chin rested atop your head, and his eyes fluttered closed.

It wasn’t the first time he ever hugged someone, but it was the first time he hugged someone in such a way. He held onto you tightly, his grip possessive but not painful.

He was afraid to let go.

He felt your hands press against his chest. You were probably going to push him away, he thought, and he tried to prepare himself. He told himself he would let you go because it was the right thing to do, yet he didn’t need to.

You hugged him back, and he almost lost his footing.

How long had it been since he last received a hug? Since the last time, someone held him and showed him affection?

Too long.

Your hands went inside his opened jacket and held onto him. Your fingers pressed against his skin, and your soft, warm breaths caressed his neck.

He could stay like this for eternity, and he would never grow tired of it.

Your voice reached his ears.

"Logan, did something happen?"

He had been standing there for quite a while. He wasn’t aware of how long. Time seemed to freeze around you, but he didn’t mind. He wasn't one to believe in such nonsense, but when it came to you, he was ready to accept it.

Your hand rested on his arm, and he knew you were subtly prompting him to move, and so he did.

He pulled away from the hug just enough to look at you.

Your lips were turned upwards. The corners of your eyes creased.

"Logan?"

It was then that his actions registered—how utterly close the two of you were, how intimately you were holding each other. He was already warm just from genetics alone, but now he felt everything around him heat up.

"I-"

He didn't know what to say. It was like he was back in that bar, drinking away every thought. He couldn't think. There was nothing. Nothing but the feel of your body against his.

But what truly sealed the deal was when he felt your thumb gently caress his knuckles. It was a small movement, barely noticeable, but it was centered exactly on the scars his claws made.

That little movement made his brain short-circuit. His hands twitched. His grip tightened. He held onto you with his entire body as if scared to let you go.

"What happened?"

You were patient with him. The fact that he hadn’t even answered any of your concerns said enough.

But, eventually, he did find some words to respond with. It wasn’t the answer you were searching for, but it was a response.

"Why are you always being so fucking kind?"

It was such a simple question, and yet the amount of pain it carried was overwhelming. He knew you could hear every word behind it. Every word he couldn't bring himself to say.

He didn’t deserve it. He wasn’t a good man. He did horrible things, and sure… he made an attempt to make up for it. To be better, but it couldn’t have been enough, could it?

You were still here, looking at him with those soft eyes.

Why couldn't you look at him the way he deserved to be looked at? Like he was a monster.

Why did you have to look at him with those goddamn beautiful eyes?

"You deserve kindness, Logan. We all do."

And then, your voice became even softer and a little shaky. Your hands went back to massaging his knuckles. His scars.

"Just because you see yourself a certain way doesn’t mean the rest of us do. I see the good in you. Always have since we first met."

You spoke so softly, yet your words were heavy with emotion.

"I know it's not easy, but try to have a little more faith in yourself."

You didn’t deserve the harsh words he always threw at you. You didn’t deserve any of his anger. You didn't deserve him.

"Why?" He repeated his question, his voice strained, and you didn't miss the way his jaw clenched. "Why should I?"

His arms loosened their hold around you; his hands moved down your sides, and his touch feathered light. He wasn’t sure what he was doing, but he couldn’t quite let go just yet.

You paid it no mind. Only staring back into his eyes with the same kindness he was so used to, the one he had grown to treasure.

"You have a right to feel the way you do, Logan. And I can't claim to understand what you've been through. I can't begin to imagine. But you are a good man. A little rough around the edges, maybe, but you’ve shown me time and time again that you're trying."

A smile crept its way onto your face, and a soft giggle escaped past your lips.

Now, to be fair, he was used to hearing your laughter. With your… odd sense of humor, it wasn’t an uncommon occurrence. But, this would be one of the firsts to add to his collection.

The one reserved for him and him only.

Your laughter wasn’t loud, or annoying, or anything like Wade's. It was soft, sweet, and oh-so pleasant.

You were looking at him. Staring up at him with such love and warmth. You didn't even realize it, but he did.

"Besides, who wouldn't be a little grouchy waking up to that handsome face every morning?"

And, now, he was repulsed by the unwelcome vision of a certain masked man making his way into his head. He was so disgusted by the thought he didn’t bother responding. He didn't want to.

So, instead, he moved.

He had a habit of moving on his own and not thinking about it. It went from his hands going to your sides, and now, his hands reaching out to press against the door behind you.

You were pinned against the door, and the way you looked at him didn’t change. Of course, it didn't. Your eyes were always kind. They always were.

You were leaning against the door. Looking at him, waiting.

And he stared back.

He was so close, and he was tempted to pull away. To take a step back and leave. It would be the best for both of you; at least, he thinks so.

He couldn't give you anything.

He had nothing.

There was only himself. His body. His mind. His past.

His claws, too, if that counted for anything.

But, besides those, there was nothing.

He wasn’t a bad man, but he wasn't good either. Not like you were. He couldn’t possibly begin to match you, not even if he tried.

Which is why he had no intention of trying.

Yet, even as he thought that, his body moved even closer. The dog tags he had never taken off since he was given them hung loosely, dangling in front of your face.

One of your hands was on his chest, the other gripping onto the material of his shirt.

"Logan."

You spoke his name so softly. Almost a whisper, and yet, the sound of it was all his senses were focused on.

Your gaze shifted between his eyes and lips, and the hand that had been holding onto his shirt moved, reaching up to his shoulder.

The touch was light, as if hesitant, and it caused him to lean even closer.

It was so close. You were so close. You had been before, but never like this. Never in the way he wanted.

He wanted you so badly.

And you were right there. Looking at him with those eyes, with a soft, tender smile, and with an expression he didn't recognize.

He knew that was an invitation. You were always an open book, and your body language was no different.

And it wasn't the first time you did so.

There were many times when you looked at him. Your eyes trailing over his face. Your gaze went downwards, lingering before you snapped out of it and looked away.

He always saw it, always knew it was there, but he just chose to ignore it. He wasn’t in the right mind, then. He was just another broken man, struggling to get by, trying his best.

Trying to find some meaning in his life.

But, even now, he was still hesitant. Even after coming all the way here and making his intentions clear, he struggled with it.

"Are you sure?"

Because you were so much better than him.

Because he could still remember the day the two of you met. How much of an asshole he was, how rude, how angry.

It wasn’t until the seventh time you approached him that he realized that he had met someone who genuinely, wholeheartedly cared.

It wasn't until the twentieth time you approached him that he finally accepted it.

He could never forget the way you smiled and spoke to him, even though he had given you no reason to.

"Hi, Logan!"

You would say.

"Good morning!"

You would wave.

"Have a nice day, Logan."

You would nod, even though the man himself chose to ignore you. Goddamn it. You were so much better than him.

Much purer. Much more innocent.

You had a heart of gold, and a soul as white as snow. You were so good, so kind, and the thought of soiling you, of ruining your light with his darkness, it scared him.

It was the sole reason he didn't give in, even now, with you offering yourself to him.

He didn't want to ruin you.

"Yes."

No hesitation. No second thoughts.

Your eyes were so kind. So full of love, and the same emotion reflected back in his own.

But, even with the clear sign of assurance, he still felt the need to create one last line of defense.

With the hand against the door, he peeled it back enough to have your eyes catch sight of the fist it made.

In a millisecond, he unleashed his claws and slammed his fist against the door, the sharp adamantium easily slicing through the wood, causing the door to crack.

And, yet, no reaction. Not a single flinch, not a wince, not even a hitch of breath.

You weren't afraid. Not at all. Even as the claws were mere inches from your face, you weren't scared.

The corners of your mouth twitched. Upwards, and it soon bloomed into a bright smile.

He retracted his claws, and gave you another once-over, just to be sure, and you responded by lifting your hand, grasping the metal chain hanging from his neck.

Your fingers grazed against the cool metal, and your smile softened before turning into a small grin.

"For a man who states he isn’t scared of anything, you sure have a lot of defense mechanisms, Logan."

Teasing. That was a new one for you.

He liked it.

"Say it again." Now, finally, you showed a different expression. Confusion mixed with curiosity. You were wondering what he meant. "My name."

"Logan."

For you, his actions were mere seconds. You had no time to process the feeling of his breath against your lips. The feeling of his stubble tickling your skin. The feeling of his warm, dry lips pressed against yours.

But, for him, it was a slow, steady motion. He took his time. He pulled you closer, his hands moving from the door and cupping the back of your head and your waist.

The kiss was soft. Gentle. Nothing rushed.

He held you like you were fragile. Like you were made of porcelain and could break at any moment. He could, theoretically, but he would rather go through Cassandra’s entire repertoire of torture than hurt you.

He lifted you up. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and your arms around his neck, his own pulling you closer, his fingers digging into your skin.

You tasted exactly how you were. Pure. Sweet.

Like heaven.

He was sure he was leaving that of the bitter alcohol he had downed on your lips, but you didn't seem fussy about it.

Not that he could focus on anything else, anyway.

He was too distracted by the way his tongue danced with yours.

Too focused on the taste of your mouth.

Too distracted by the way your hands made themselves a home in his wet hair. They would tug every once in a while, releasing a groan he hadn’t known was there.

He was too distracted to care.

He was too lost in your scent. Wade always called him that character from that shity vampire movie due to his nose.

He always disagreed until you happened to mention the resemblance. Then, and only then, did he see the logic.

And you saw the logic here, too—the logic of how good you melted together. Experiencing it now made him question his decision to stay away.

If it was always going to be this good, this intoxicating, he should’ve done it a long time ago.

He should've taken the chance.

It would've saved the two of you a lot of frustration, and a lot of headaches.

But it didn't matter. He was here now.

And, as his foot broke into the door, mouth still latched onto yours, with him figuring his way about your apartment, he thought:

It doesn't matter.

As long as I’m here.

As long as you’re in my arms.

It doesn't matter.

Fortunately, that meant he didn’t have to wake up to that toupee-stapled face every morning, as he had so dreadfully imagined.

Unfortunately, it also meant that the next time he saw Wade, he would have to deal with him talking his ears off about what had transpired.

But, for now, he could live with that.

He was more focused on the fact on making sure you weren’t regretting your choice.

Because he sure as fuck didn’t.

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saintobio · 3 months ago

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𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍 & 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑.

rule #1: even if the world crumbles down in front of you, never, ever trust sylus with your heart. because even the fiercest flames can't match the danger of loving a man like him.

♱ pairings. sylus, fem!reader

♱ genre. angst, smut, boss/assistant, 18+

♱ tags. villain!reader, reader works for onychinus, reader is not l&ds!mc, set in the N109 zone, unrequited love, profanity, petnames (kitten, baby doll, darling, sweetie), unprotected sex, throatfucking (m!receiving), cunnilingus (f!receiving), cum-eating, slight dom/sub play, spitting, hair-pulling, spanking, biting, choking, overstimulation, bondage, blindfolding, lots of jealousy, possessiveness, yandere themes, stalking, blood, violence, usage of guns, allusions to prostitution, killings, death, *coughs* that one harley+joker scene.

♱ notes. 8.2k words. inspired by this song bcos i can’t stop thinking abt him for days

“Boss is looking for ‘ya.”

It was already nighttime when you emerged from the library, only to encounter the eccentric twins, Luke and Kieran, lounging on the window sill as if they had been waiting for you to come out of your bat cave. They always donned their signature uniforms of leathered attire and beaked masks, an outfit reminiscent of Sylus’s mechanical crow, Mephisto. Behind their silhouettes, the red glow of the blood moon poured through the window, casting an eerie, crimson hue across the dimly lit hallways. Any normal person would have found such an atmosphere disturbing.

But that was the N109 Zone for you—a dark, lawless, enigmatic place you called home.

“Is he in his room already?” you asked, quietly closing the door behind you. In your arm was a thick book, an archival file you had spent nearly two hours searching for. It contained records of historical events, of life before the Chronorift Catastrophe of 2034, before the Deepspace Tunnel was opened. Sylus had tasked you with finding the file for reasons he didn’t care to disclose.

A curious Luke tilted his head and swung his feet in the air as he pointed at the book. “Let me guess,” he began with a teasing tone, “Is that book some sort of Kama Sutra?”

Kieran’s snigger followed. “I bet it is, since it’s her birthday in a few hours.”

“Very funny,” was your quick retort. “It’s a history book, you idiots. Sylus needs it for something.”

The twins then let out a teasing coo. “Aww, so no birthday ‘fun’ for you?” asked Luke, “I thought sleeping with your boss would have its perks, too.”

Although his comment was meant to be a joke, you bristled at his jab at your professionalism. It had been a few years since you started this kind of relationship with Sylus, with him being your boss and the leader of Onychinus, and with you as his personal assistant and, well… escort.

In and out of the N109 Zone, Sylus was a popular man for both good and bad reasons. His notoriety was mostly for his influence, and sometimes for his crimes. He was known to be unforgiving—a brute man who carried no conscience towards his enemies. One wrong move and you’d find yourself six feet under. Perhaps, that was what you admired so much about him. His aura, his domineering persona, his dangerous charm. He had mastered the art of seduction, the sin of hunger and desire. His power. There was no one like him.

And so, you were the happiest woman alive when what began as an unrequited admiration eventually blossomed into something more. Spending more time with your boss played a pivotal role in gaining his interest towards you, because day-by-day he started to learn how much of an asset you could be for him. You were his prized possession. You were the most powerful weapon in his arsenal. Despite Luke and Kieran’s constant warnings of the abyss you were throwing yourself into, you were willing to be a pawn in Sylus’s game of chess. You wanted to be the Queen next to a King. Because that meant you were too valuable to simply set aside.

Yet Sylus was never one to clarify the nature of your relationship. He’d often say there was no need to clear up such a silly thing. All you knew was that when Sylus needed you, he had to have you. In all ways. He’d still act professional and distant depending on the audience. But behind closed doors, he spoiled you like a princess, treated you like a queen, and worshiped you like a saint. He was a sadistic, draconic man towards others, but he always had a gentle spot for you. Only for you.

And that was a spot you would never, ever share with anyone else.

“Whatever. I gotta go see him,” you excused yourself from the two, just as one of them tossed a black box to you. “Is this my present?”

The twins jumped down from the window sill in perfect sync. “Advance happy birthday to the princess of Onychinus. Make sure to open the gift when boss is around.”

Your lips spread into a smile as you held the box in your free hand. Luke and Kieran giving you a gift was the last thing you would expect from them. “Why, thank you—”

“Yeah, yeah. You should go see him now,” said Kieran, pushing you forward by the shoulders. “Can’t keep boss waiting.”

By the time you reached Sylus’s door, the twins’ distant, mischievous chuckles then echoed down the hall. You couldn’t help but laugh and shake your head before grasping the door handles, stepping inside of Sylus’s bedroom with slow, measured steps. You didn’t know why you were nervous. As the door shut behind you, the familiar scent of leather, cardamom, and sandalwood immediately enveloped you like a fragrant, hallucinatory mist. However, his king-sized bed lay empty with the sheets still perfectly arranged. There were no signs of him anywhere, until the sound of cascading rainwater drew your gaze toward the bathroom, where his tall figure was visible through the frosted glass. He was engaged in a steamy shower, clearly unaware of the intruder that entered his room just now.

“Boss?” you called out, standing by his bed. “I’ll leave the file on your nightstand.”

Receiving no response, you placed the book on the bedside table and waited for him patiently. Should you stay or should you leave? It usually depends on Sylus’s mood. There were nights where he wanted to be left alone, and nights where he craved your presence. His lack of response may be a sign to exit his room. But as you prepared yourself to leave thinking that Sylus purposely ignored you, a certain black velvet box resting on his nightstand suddenly caught your eye. Unlike the typical small box that might hold a ring, this one was more rectangular in shape and you were drawn to it like a moth to a flame. It was your curiosity that led you to touch the soft surface, wondering what lay beneath it.

Is it for me…?

“They say curiosity kills a cat.” Sylus’s deep, resonant voice broke your trance as he stepped out of the shower. Wrapped in nothing but a white towel around his waist, his muscular form was on full display as he approached you with assertive footsteps. Every curve of his muscle flexed as he moved. And his carnelian eyes sparkled with amusement, the corners of his thin, pinkish lips curving upward when he walked closer to you. “Touching my things without permission. Are you asking to be punished, kitten?”

Your heart raced as he closed the distance. Yet, maintaining composure around Sylus was a skill you had honed since the day you began working for him. “Oh, forgive me, master,” you merely teased. “It caught my attention.”

“Curious about the box or who it’s for?” he taunted, raking his fingers through his damp gray hair. Beads of water glistened on his bare skin, and you found your gaze wandering to his perfectly sculpted abs until you felt his finger lifting your chin up. “Eyes on me, honey. Don’t tell me you thought that velvet box was for you?”

So it isn’t? You suppressed a disappointed expression, but your clouded eyes betrayed you. “No, I… just curious.”

“Is that a sad kitten I see?” he asked, tilting his head to catch even the slightest changes in your expression. “You wanna open the box?”

“No, thank you.” Your stubbornness prevailed this time.

Sylus’s lips curved into a smile as he stepped closer, his arms wrapping around your waist and turning you gently. He then went on to open the velvet box and fastened a silver necklace around your neck. “Happy birthday, my darling,” he whispered into your ear, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine as he planted a tender kiss on your shoulder. “That’s a red beryl crystal—one of the rarest gemstones in the world.”

Your eyes sparkled in awe as you touched the red pendant, feeling its exquisite value beneath your fingertips. Oh… to receive such beautiful, rare gem from the boss of Onychinus himself. You were too overwhelmed with appreciation as you turned and wrapped your arms around his neck. “Sy!” you exclaimed, your heart swelling at his effort. “It’s beautiful. I love it.”

He returned your gaze with a smug look. “You better love it. I sacrificed two gold bullets just to get that for you, sweetie.”

“You…” Your eyes widened at the implication behind his words. Someone’s life was lost in exchange for your birthday gift. It was beyond your expectations to know that Sylus went to such macabre lengths just to surprise you, but banality was his worst enemy, and the last thing he would do was be called boring over things like birthday surprises. “...Well, thank you. I’ll treasure it forever, my love.”

“Now,” he said, abruptly breaking the sweet moment as he glanced at the other box on his bed. You realized he was scrutinizing the gift from the twins, which you had unwittingly left behind when you hugged him. His expression darkened slightly, clearly displeased at the foreign object on his bed. “Care to tell me where this is from? Or did some other bastard get you a present before I did?” he questioned, “Tell me his name, his identity. Give me his location.”

Chuckling, you cupped his cheek and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s not what you think. Luke and Kieran gave it to me before I came here.”

Still unimpressed, he raised an eyebrow and nodded toward the box. “Who told you to receive gifts from other men?”

“I…”

“Let’s see what’s inside, shall we?”

“I’m sure it’s just some…” you began, hurriedly untying the ribbon at the sight of Sylus’s growing pique. But as you opened the box, your mouth dropped in shock upon seeing a black lingerie set inside. An awkward laugh forced its way out of your mouth. Those two! “I… Ha-ha! They fool around too much. Don’t mind it. I’m just gonna throw it away.”

Sylus’s frown quickly transformed into a deep chuckle as he lifted the lingerie by the strap, his eyes widening with interest as he examined the lace corset. “Why don’t you try wearing it first, baby doll?” he suggested, an idea clearly forming in his mind. “It’s rude to toss aside a gift.”

He knows exactly what he’s doing, you thought, feeling your cheeks flush under his gaze. You almost lost your mind when he looked down at you with a roguish smirk, like he was an animal who’s about to devour his first meal in a long time. “You really want me to put it on?”

“Since it’s your special day,” he insisted, settling at the edge of his bed while keeping you positioned between his legs, “Let me help you with that.” His tone was more command than suggestion as he slowly unbuttoned your shirt, peeling it away from your body. “That’s it, be a good kitten. Just follow your master’s orders and you’ll do just fine.”

You felt his cold fingertips brushing against your chest as he slipped your blouse down, his hands reaching behind to unclasp your bra and set your breasts free. Instinctively, you shied away from the intensity of his gaze and covered your chest. But he was quick to grab your wrist, an eyebrow raised at your disobedience. “I’m sorry…”

“Nothing I haven’t seen before,” he mumbled in a deep, orotund voice before continuing to undress you. His hand now fiddled with your pants, unzipping and sliding it down your legs in a painfully slow way. To your surprise, he had also pulled your underwear down along with your pants, leaving your lower body as bare as it could be. “Looks like my kitten’s prepared,” he said with a lowly chuckle, his gaze locked on your freshly waxed lady part. “But I’ll take my time before I devour you.”

Taking a deep breath, you placed your hand on where his shoulder and neck met. All your clothes were discarded on the floor and you were nothing but naked in front of the very man you so deeply adored. He alone was the most perfect gift for you. “Boss…” your voice came out like a whisper, “About your upcoming transaction with Mr. Davis. H-He agrees to meet at the nightclub this Friday.”

Sylus displayed a devilish smirk, noticing your effort in opening a subject to distract yourself from the compromising situation he had put you in. Though, instead of shaming you further, he had decided to play the part. “I’m surprised you managed to bargain with him,” he praised, slipping in a black, lace underwear up your legs. It barely covered your folds, and with Sylus’s warm breath tickling your cunny, you knew that your underwear would only be ripped apart sooner or later. “But then again, it must be your… irresistible charm that made him agree to meet up,” with a pause, he made a twirling gesture with his finger. “Turn around for me, sweetie.”

You did as told, chest rising and falling deeply as your boss began to tie the corset behind you. It was too tight, but he seemed to have liked it that way, because your breasts were almost popping out of the padding. “I-I… Is it supposed to be this tight?” you asked, hesitantly, “I can’t breathe.”

“It’s perfect.” He let out a deep chuckle before suddenly pushing you down on his bed. The sudden force left your heartbeat somersaulting, the anticipation and nervousness rising deep within you as you looked up at his predatory gaze. “Now, for the best part.”

Sylus whipped out a handcuff and a blindfold from his drawer, and his first action was to grab your wrists and lock it within the silver handcuff around the headboard. The very next thing he did was cover your eyes with the blindfold, tying it neatly behind your head to deprive you of one of your five senses.

“Sylus—?” You weren’t sure what was happening now, and hated that you couldn’t see his handsome face because of the blindfold. Your vision offered nothing but darkness, blinding you from whatever Sylus was planning to do with you in his king-sized bed. There were sounds of fabric rustling around you, the sound of clothing dropping to the floor, and the wet, sloppy noises near your face. When you felt the tip hitting your cheek, you realized it was Sylus touching himself, leaving you to imagine how he was stroking his hard length in front of your face, preparing his cock for a wild night ahead. “Are you—”

“Shh.” Your voice was cut off after he held a strong grip around your jaw, forcing your mouth open before the taste of his cocktip started entering your mouth. Not even halfway in, you already gagged from his cock. He was too huge for your mouth—too thick, too veiny, too lengthy. But nonetheless, despite the threads of saliva that waterfalled on the sides of your mouth, Sylus still shoved his entire length in. He didn’t care if you had started choking from his monstrous cock. He was too focused on burying his member in and out of your mouth, hitting your uvula, and allowing for tears to escape your eyes. “That mouth of yours is heaven for me, honey,” he said, your chin on his hand as he released a deep, guttural groan. “Move your tongue around it.”

“Mmh—ngh!” Even if you were getting asphyxiated, fucking your throat was one of Sylus’s favorite foreplays. And so, like the obedient kitty you were, you started bobbing your head along to the rhythm of his thrusts. You also moved your tongue in circles around his shaft, and Sylus’s moans got louder, turning you on knowing that you were doing great at pleasuring the love of your life. You couldn’t even taste him enough, your mouth was too sore and numb at that point.

Not even long after, he started angling his cock to your cheeks as if he was desperate to feel every inch of your mouth. When he pulled away, you released his member with a pop, and the string of saliva ended up coating your chin. While you couldn’t move your hand to wipe it off, you did try to move your wrists around the handcuff wondering if you could set yourself free.

“Trying to break free?” Sylus’s voice was so near your right ear, the weight of his body becoming heavier on top of you. “We’re not done yet, darling.”

A sloppy, open-mouthed kiss quickly calmed you down. You allowed Sylus to explore your mouth with his tongue, letting him lap you up like a meal he couldn’t stop eating. And with every bite on your lower lip, you were whimpering like a helpless cat. “S-Sylus,” you begged, “S-Sy… I…”

“Hmm?” His mouth was now on your neck, suckling and nibbling on the skin until they would leave purple marks all over.

“Mmh… I want you.”

“Not so soon, birthday girl.” Sylus’s teasing led to him pulling away from you. Now, you were unsure of his next move. But your chest only continued to move in an unsteady rhythm, the lack of sight heightening your auditory sense as a compromise.

The next thing you knew, his manly hands started kneading at your breasts. He cupped them with such a force that made you stop breathing for a moment, focusing the sensation of his touch as he slightly pulled the padding of your corset to peek at one of your tits. In an instant, his mouth was attached to your nub. His tongue licked around your nipple, flicking it playfully before sucking and biting on your mounds.

“Haaah!”

“The twins did well in delivering this gift to you,” he made a subtle remark, releasing your tit from his mouth. His movements suggested he was moving down south, down to where your crotch was, and he only confirmed your thoughts when he began spreading your legs open and pulling your underwear to the side. “Look at how wet that pretty pussy is.”

You moaned at the feeling of Sylus’s finger toying with your entrance. “T-The twins,” you barely said, squirming from the coil you were feeling inside your body. “What do you mean they delivered… the gift? Was it your idea after all?”

Too bad you couldn’t see his face, but you were sure as hell that there was a triumphant smile spreading on it. “How else would they know your bra size, kitten?” he replied in a low voice before surprising you with the feeling of his tongue moving inside your slit, “Only I have access to your body.”

Fuck, fuck. You were going insane. “Mhm—ngh! Aah!”

Sylus’s mouth was rough against your cunt, the tip of his nose tickling your clit as he continued spreading your labia apart to give himself better access inside your pussy. He completely devoured your sopping cunt, grunting and growling like a rabid dog as he alternated between french-kissing your pussy to burying his digits inside. His three fingers orchestrated deep and fast movements against your walls, with each stroke inside earning a wild whimper out of you.

“Haaah—! Sylus, I… I can’t hold it… anymore.”

He found your sweet spot soon enough, and chuckled darkly as you tried to squirm like a pathetic little kitty under him. With your legs dangling on his shoulders, he resumed abusing your sore cunt by fingering your vulva until you were at your seventh heaven. And as soon as you felt the need to pee, you knew he’d only pick up the speed of his fingers even more.

“I-I… Please, Sy… I’m…”

For the first time in your life, you felt yourself squirting all over his bed. Your hips raised itself involuntarily, legs shaking violently on top of his shoulders. The overstimulation was sending you to ecstasy, as if you were in a place where every pleasure in the world was given to you. In your extremely vulnerable state, Sylus chose to grab the opportunity and forced all eight inches of his member inside. He hushed your moans and whimpers by kissing you on the mouth, his lips encasing yours in a loving and passionate exchange.

This was the most erotic you had been with him.

“You’re so fucking sexy to me, Y/N.” His cock moved fast and hard inside you. You could even feel his member twitching as your tight walls gripped him like vacuum, milking him of his every seed until he was fully drained. His lips then trailed around your jawline, then onto the valleys in between your breasts while he went on to thrust even rougher than the last. He plowed his cock inside you like there was no tomorrow, rutting and rutting and rutting like he was desperate to reach his own climax. “This pussy… Can’t get enough of your sweet pussy, kitten.”

“Ah—aah! Mmh—ngh.”

“More?”

“Y-Yes… please!”

“Harder?”

“Mhmm!”

“Faster?”

“S-Sylus!”

“Such a nasty girl you are,” he quipped, your hips now gripped by his strong hands as he sat in bed, readying for the final position. “Next time, I’m gonna eat your ass.”

Gosh. You were already feeling limp under him. And when you felt his hands ripping your panties off, you knew it was game over for you. He was a hungry beast whose desire for lust would make him the worst sinner in hell. You couldn’t contain the loudness of your moans and whimpers as Sylus started thrusting into you at an otherworldly speed, your cunt feeling the soreness of his every slam. The skin-slapping sound dominated his entire room as your slick coated his entire length. At that point, he began biting on your lower leg, his cock doing its last twitch deep inside your cavern. He was balls deep inside, his bollocks slapping against your pussy with every jostle.

“C-Cum…” you pleaded, “Inside me… Please.”

But to your disappointment, Sylus pulled out. You didn’t know where he was releasing his seed until you felt the warm liquid shooting at your stomach. Three times you had asked him to cum inside, and he still continued to refuse. You thought your birthday would have been an exception, but Sylus was too smart for that. He knew knocking you up would ruin his plans. Getting you pregnant would make him lose his chances with her.

“You can sleep on my bed tonight, darling.” Sylus easily released your hand from the cuffs with his evol, and did his own effort in untying the blindfold around your eyes. Little did he know that your tired eyes actually carried pain inside. “Close your eyes now. I’ll take care of the rest.”

You watched as he walked toward his nightstand, oblivious to the pessimistic thoughts swirling in your mind. If only she never existed in his life. If only she was you instead.

“Sylus.” You fixed your gaze on his face. “I love you.”

His eyes widened in panic for a moment before he masked it with indifference. It was as if your declaration had caught him off guard, as if your years of devotion hadn’t already made it clear how deeply in love you were.

“You shouldn’t.”

The N109 Zone’s most famous nightclub was alive with pulsating lights and thumping bass on a Friday night, a den of excess and shadows where shady deals and dangerous liaisons were also par for the course. Sylus was dressed in his signature dark attire, leaning against a plush booth in the corner, and the red glow from the neon lights flickering off his white hair and crimson eyes. Meanwhile, you, draped in a red revealing dress that accentuated your every curve, moved with foxy grace as you joined Sylus at the booth.

Let’s just say Sylus didn’t exactly approve of your dress tonight. He thought it was revealing too much skin that was supposedly for his eyes only. But ever since the night of your birthday where he didn’t return your declaration of love, you started rebelling against your boss. Everything he disliked, you did out of spite. You did them out of the bitterness boiling inside you.

Across from you two, in a secluded corner of the club, sat Sylus’s business partner, a man whose sharp suit and cold gaze reflected a ruthless demeanor. The table between you was littered with documents and blueprints, a clear indication of the shady business transaction underway—an armory deal of massive proportions, weapons, and munitions that could alter the balance of power in the underworld. Sylus’s arsenal of weapons could already destroy Linkon City if he wanted to, but there was no fun in that. It would be too much an easy disposal.

Nonetheless, Sylus’s eyes sparkled with approval as he glanced at the stacks of weaponry displayed before him. “I must say, I’m impressed,” he remarked with a sly grin. “The quality of your armory is unparalleled, Davis. You really outdid yourself this time.”

The business partner, clearly pleased, gave a curt nod. “I aim to please. But payment in cash alone doesn’t always satisfy, does it?”

Sylus leaned back, his gaze shifting to you. You were just settling next to him, your quiet presence commanding everyone’s attention as the low neckline of your red dress drew admiring glances from his business partner. Sylus was quick to notice the man’s eyes lingering on your breasts, a hint of predatory interest flickering in the old man’s gaze.

“Seems like my partner here is quite taken with you,” Sylus mused, hinting at a dangerous edge in his voice. “How about it? Would you like something other than money for your trouble?”

Mr. Davis’s eyes never left you as he smirked, a flicker of greed clouding his gaze. It was obvious to everyone in that booth that the old geezer was undressing you with his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

Sylus’s smile grew sharper. “Y/N here is quite the treasure. If you’re interested, she could be yours for the night. Do what you want with her. What do you say?”

Unbelievable! Stunned by his words, you quickly turned to Sylus in protest. You couldn’t believe he was offering you like some whore to that old man, but you had to hide your disgust after meeting Sylus’s glowing carmine eyes shooting you a knowing look. Just play along and stay quiet, you could almost hear his voice in your head.

Mr. Davis’s perverted gaze remained fixed on you, clearly tempted as he battled with the demons in his head. And at your boss’s signal, you were ordered to walk towards Mr. Davis apprehensively, sitting on his lap while keeping the disgust you were feeling from showing. His hand soon grazed your thigh, the other squeezing your breast. “That’s a tempting offer,” commented the old man, a triumphant grin on display, “But I’d be a fool to refuse a bad bitch like her.”

“Good,” Sylus said, his tone suddenly serious as he slid a sleek, black gun from the table. He idly toyed with the handgun, clearly unfazed. “Let’s finalize our deal then. I’ll just take this gun you’ve provided. Don’t mind if I do a little ‘quality testing’,” he added with a chilling smile, loading the magazine with .45 ACP bullets.

The business partner’s eyes widened in realization as Sylus’s hand tightened around the weapon. Panic soon flashed across Mr. Davis’s face before he desperately pushed you off his lap and scrambled to his feet, hoping to de-escalate the rift he had caused with the Onychinus leader. “Wait, Mr. Sylus! I-I didn’t mean to offend. I’m not going to steal your lady, I swear! Don’t—”

But just as you expected, Sylus’s expression remained cold and unyielding. With a swift, practiced motion, he pulled the trigger. The sound of the gunshot was sharp and final, cutting through the pulsating music and leaving a deadly silence in its wake. Mr. Davis quickly dropped to the floor, his eyes wide open and the hole on the side of his head leaking with dark, red blood.

Your eyes remained cool and detached as you watched the scene unfold, your expression too unreadable for the killer next to you. You’ve seen worse things while living in the N109 Zone, right? was Sylus’s inner thoughts as he placed the gun back on the table, his gaze steady while regarding the now lifeless body of his former business partner. The carpet was now drenched with an unsightly amount of blood.

Just then, the twins, Luke and Kieran immediately swung the door open with a guarded stance, worried that something had happened to the Onychinus leader whom you all served under. But upon looking at Mr. Davis’s fresh corpse sprawled out on the floor, both twins merely shrugged it off, praising their boss for dealing with the old man in a brutal fashion.

“Leave us for a while,” Sylus instructed the twins, pulling you closer by gripping your waist, “If any of Davis’s men try to come in, kill them with no mercy.”

“Roger that, boss.”

As soon as the door was closed, Sylus turned to you, you recognized a demonic glow in his eyes as he tugged at the neckline of your dress. “You,” he spoke under his breath, “are testing my patience.”

You weren’t sure how to feel about it.

Heck, you couldn’t tell if you were even turned on by it, but Sylus fucking you in front of a dead man did bring in a rush of adrenaline in you. This was the fourth time he had killed a man for desiring you, and while he would usually play it off and say he was just feeling bloodthirsty at the time those incidents happened, this was the first time he was compelled to actually touch you next to a man he had just mercilessly shot. It was as though he was trying to prove a point, that dead or alive, no other man would have the pleasure of having you.

“S-Sylus,” you let out a whimper, knees beginning to feel sore as your boss continued to hit you from behind, hips snapping against your bum in a rough, merciless manner. A stinging sensation was soon felt on your butt cheek as Sylus sent a hard, crisp slap on your ass. “Mmh—!”

His nails dug into your hips, jostling you forwards and backwards so your ass could meet the base of his cock with how deep he was plowing himself into you. You had already creamed around his member multiple times that night, too satiated by the possessiveness Sylus was showing towards you, and yet, the signs of him stopping seemed to be a far end of the line.

“Did you enjoy my show, kitten?” he asked, a question borne from feelings of spite, “Did you like how he was gawking at your tits? Look at his pathetic face now. You see that?”

Sylus grabbed you by the face and forced you to look at Mr. Davis’s lifeless body for a good minute. A minute to remember such a ghastly image for the rest of your life. And only after he was satisfied at the fright in your eyes did he start pulling you by the hair, only to then wrap a tight hand around your neck. You couldn’t breathe. You were choking from his hand, restrained to receive any bit of air down your throat. The strong smell of iron, gun powder, and leather was also beginning to intoxicate you, and you knew you were a minute away from passing out. But Sylus was too enraged to stop, his mind was a toxic fire you couldn’t easily extinguish and the only thing you could do was allow him to take his anger out on you.

“Hnngh! Sy… Sylus…” you cried, moaning as his hard thrust almost sent you forward to his business partner’s corpse. The pressure on your windpipe was too strong that barely any sound came out of your mouth. “Sylus, I’m all y-yours, my love. Ah—aah! All… yours.”

He did loosen his grip on your neck, because he had pulled you by the chin to spit into your mouth. A string of saliva connected your tongue to his, your chest undulating in heavy breaths as he began to grope your tits from behind. “Dress like a whore again,” he whispered a warning into your ear, “and I wouldn’t hesitate to treat you like one.”

Your mind, too numbed by the overstimulation all over your body, couldn’t fully grasp the words he had just spoken. All you knew was that he pressed you further down the carpeted floor, with your ass high up and your body down low. The next thing he did was to spread your butt cheeks apart to gape at the exact hole he was destroying.

Sore. Too sore. Too numb. Too… Too… “Sylus, I’m g-gonna…”

“Fuck,” he cussed, accelerating his thrusts at an animalistic speed, his deep breaths turning into a guttural groan as he chased his high. His cum was thick when they landed on your face, and the taste was sweet and salty when he forced the rest of his cum onto the back of your throat. You gagged as he hit your uvula, drool oozing at the corner of your mouth as you choked and yet managed to swallow every drop of his semen.

Like a good girl, for him. Always.

You didn’t exactly black out afterward. You were caught in a liminal state, not fully awake but not unconscious either, as you collapsed onto the floor. Sylus discarded you like a toy he’d grown tired of. If you had been more aware, you would have immediately noticed the abrupt shift in his behavior. The sound of his fading footsteps made you realize that the man you loved so obsessively had just left you in that booth, right next to a dead man.

“Y/N?”

“Y/N. Hey, you okay?”

The coat soon enveloping your body wasn’t Sylus’s; it belonged to one of the twins, and you could feel yourself being carried in his arms.

“Luke…?” you murmured weakly.

“No, it’s Kieran,” he clarified, since his older brother was occupied with disposing of Mr. Davis’s body. “I’m taking you home.”

You clung to his shoulder, your heavy-lidded eyes searching for Sylus’s distinctive white hair. “Wha—? Where’s he? Where is Sy—”

“Boss already left.” His words felt like a blow. “You know he’s dangerous when he’s angry, so you should just go home for today.”

You tried to wriggle free from Kieran’s grasp, confused by the sudden turn of events. “But what did I do? Why is he angry with me?”

“It’s not you, just… complicated,” were the last words you heard before exhaustion overtook you, unaware that you were now outside the nightclub.

Continuing to squirm from Kieran’s hold, you cried, “What do you mean complicated!”

“Luke and I tried to warn you, Y/N,” he said, grimly, as if he felt bad for you. “You’re not supposed to mess with his emotions. Those feelings are reserved for another.”

The night air in the N109 Zone felt heavy and suffocating. It had been a month since Sylus had abruptly cut off contact with you, leaving you in a state of uncertainty, overthinking, and anger. When he had asked you to take a break from work, you already found his command suspicious, and then the silence that followed was a deafening confirmation of your suspicion. No texts, no calls, and every attempt to visit Onychinus’s base was continuously met with cold dismissal.

With this, you found yourself at your makeshift gun range, the repetitive bang of the shots echoing in the dimly lit space. The targets were riddled with holes, each bullet a release of your pent-up frustration. Your thoughts were a tempest of spiteful musings: how you should have maxed out his credit card for everything it was worth if you had known he was going to just dump you. The thought of doing so now felt petty, but it also served as a bitter reminder of how easily he had discarded you that night.

But amid your rage, a more serious thought began to surface. Sylus’s avoidance wasn’t merely a cruel game or a sudden whim; it seemed to hint at something deeper, something more troubling. Was there something he wasn’t telling you? Had something happened that he couldn’t or wouldn’t explain?

You should probably confront him, but you needed a sign. Barging into Onychinus’s base without prior notice would be a suicide wish, so you had to have a reason on showing up unannounced. A sign. You desperately needed one, and perhaps the universe was toying with you, but the very sign you were looking for came in the form of a mechanical crow that landed on the lightpost. Its red eyes glowed like lasers through the night, tilting its head as it looked at your way.

“Caw! Caw!”

“Mephisto,” you breathed a sigh of relief. Did Sylus send him to watch over you?

With your confidence growing back, you decided to finally confront the situation head-on. This cold war would bring you nothing but a painful whirl of overthinking. And so, you returned to Onychinus’s base that night, your anger tempered by a new, steely resolve. As usual, the base was as imposing and foreboding as ever, its corridors silent except for the occasional echo of footsteps.

Where is everyone?

As you neared Sylus’s quarters, your heart pounded with a mix of dread and anticipation. You approached his door, and through the thin walls, you could hear soft, unfamiliar voices. Your breath was caught in your throat as you recognized a woman’s voice, distinct and unfamiliar, but laced with a strange resonance that made your skin crawl.

“From the beginning, you trapped me here, forced me to resonate with you, and even said we’re ‘the same’... One wouldn’t treat a stranger like that, so… don’t tell me you like me. Is this all so you can get my attention?”

…

“You’re so gullible, kitten.”

The twins, who were lounging nearby and keeping an eye on things as usual, saw you by their boss’s door and exchanged knowing glances. Luke, with his usual smirk, leaned in. “Oh, look who decided to show up. You’re just in time.”

Kieran, with a more serious tone, added, “He’s got a guest in there. A hunter from Linkon, with an Aether Core, no less.”

Your heart sank. The mention of an Aether Core was a dagger to your already shattered heart. Sylus’s connection to you had always been complex, but it was a lot different with this other woman he had been keeping an eye on for the longest time. They were marked by their shared Aether Core, which tied them together in ways you could never fully understand. To hear that he had met the girl he had been searching for with the same rare core was like a death knell.

“Since when did Sylus bring her here?” you asked the twins, struggling to keep your emotions in check. This was the real reason Sylus had asked you to take a break—he knew that the presence of this girl would push you to the edge of losing all sense of morality. For the first time in your life, he saw you as a threat. An enemy.

Luke responded with a shrug. “A couple weeks ago after she leaked her information in The Nest. Boss has been trying to resonate with her, you see. So don’t mind their little bonding moments.”

Kieran took the initiative to drag his older brother away. “We gotta get going. Don’t cause a scene, Y/N. You won’t like it when our boss is angry.”

Disregarding the twins’ words, you pressed your hand against the door, the muffled sounds of conversation and the soft rustling of fabric seeping through. The realization of what this meant was crushing. Sylus’s soul was bound to this new woman in ways you could never compete with. And the anguish of this discovery broke you inside.

Why? Why can’t it be me?

With trembling hands, you turned the knob and pushed open the door just a crack to peer inside. The sight that met your eyes was enough to confirm your worst fears. Sylus was there, his attention fully on the woman from Linkon that he had pinned down on his bed, a tenderness in his gaze that had never been directed at you.

Unable to bear the sight any longer, you quietly closed the door and retreated, and Sylus’s head turning in your direction only made you hide even further. You were already taking hurried steps before he could catch up to you. But then again, what kind of idiot would he be to leave that fragile girl alone to run after a woman he didn’t even care about? You were nothing but a placeholder for her, warming her seat temporarily before she finally came into the picture. And now that she was here, you were easily cast aside like worn-out clothing, no longer bearing any purpose for him.

“…I hate you,” you muttered, the words barely a whisper as they escaped from your trembling lips. Running through the hallways had quickly become exhausting, each step felt like a drag with the weight of your emotions. “I hate you, Sylus.”

Your hands, shaking uncontrollably, grasped the Beryl pendant that hung around your neck. The sharp pain from the necklace’s chain digging into your skin only added to your anguish. And with a frustrated cry, you yanked the pendant off and hurled it down the hallway. The pendant skittered across the polished floor, its once-beautiful gleam now discarded like mere rubbish.

“What did we tell you?” The twins’ imaginary voices were mocking you in your head, their taunts reverberating through your thoughts as you headed out of the base with no footsteps following you behind. It became clear to you that Sylus had chosen to stay with the girl instead of chasing after you. “Just because boss gave you a chance, doesn’t mean he’ll actually date you! You poor thing! You’re just a game he likes to play!”

“Stop. Stop!” You had to press your hands into your ear, suppressing the torture that your mind was creating.

You decided to run away. Far, far away from Onychinus’s base. Far away from Sylus’s reach.

Your footsteps echoed through the deserted streets, your mind still reeling in jealousy from the events you saw earlier. The image of the woman pinned under him, her dark hair and fair skin, had your hands shaking from the anger in your heart. She was as beautiful as he described, as radiant as he’d often whisper about in his dreams. And now that she was within his reach, did you really think he would let her go?

The night was cold, the air biting at your skin as you walked aimlessly, lost in a whirlwind of emotions and tortuous thoughts. The betrayal, the hurt, the lingering sense of being used—all of it churned within you, making your steps heavy and your heart even heavier.

“I… hate you,” you murmured under your breath.

As you turned down a dark alley, a sudden prickle of unease crawled up your spine. You quickened your pace, but the sound of a second set of footsteps followed closely behind you. Panic set in as soon as you realized you were being stalked.

Before you could react, however, a shadowy figure emerged from the darkness, blocking your path. The man’s eyes gleamed with malice, a cruel smile spreading across his face. “You no longer have Sylus to protect you,” he sneered, his voice dripping with menace. It was one of Davis’s men. “You're all alone now, and I'm going to make you pay for the death of our master.”

Fear gripped you like a tightrope, but before the man could take another step, a swirling mist of black-red enveloped him. The pressure of the mist seemed to squeeze his entire body, forcing him to his knees, his screams of terror cut short as if the mist were obeying commands from an unseen master.

You turned around, your heart pounding, to see Sylus standing at the edge of the alley. His domineering eyes bore into yours in a mixture of curiosity and cold calculation. “Should I kill this guy? Yes or no?” His voice was low and raspy. “My decision depends on you, kitten.”

Your gaze hardened after hearing the term of endearment he was now recycling with the hunter girl from Linkon. “I can handle him,” was your cold reply, your voice steady despite the turmoil inside you. You drew your gun with a swift motion and fired repeatedly, each shot bouncing in the narrow alley. The man’s body crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Sylus watched you with an appraising look. “Impressive. Still feisty as ever.”

You then pointed your gun towards him, but keeping a safe enough distance. “Why were you following me?” you demanded, your tone cold as ice.

A chilling laugh echoed through the alleyway. “My own assistant wants to kill her boss? Now, isn’t that a spectacle?”

“Shut up!” you yelled, finger tightening on the trigger. “I don’t care if one bullet won’t kill you. I can shoot you enough times to make sure you’d at least feel some pain.”

Sylus sighed before reaching into his pocket and revealed the necklace, the red beryl pendant glinting in the dim light. “You forgot your gift,” he said, his voice softening ever so slightly.

You stared at the necklace, feeling a sting in your heart that you couldn’t ignore. “I’m not worthy of such a gift,” you replied monotonously, “Give it to her if you want. And also, take this night as my formal resignation as your assistant."

Sylus’s eyes widened, a rare look of surprise crossing his features. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. It seemed as if he was truly, genuinely stunned, caught off guard by your decision.

I can’t back out now. You repeated it like a desperate mantra in your mind as you turned and walked away, leaving Sylus standing alone in the dark alley, the necklace still clutched in his hand. You were done with his games, done with being played. You were determined to leave him behind, until suddenly, he vanished into a puff of black smoke. Dark feathers floated in the spot where he had stood moments ago. To your shock, he reappeared behind you, his hand forcefully grabbing your chin to make you look up at him.

You struggled, trying to wrench his hand away. “Let go—”

But he silenced you with a bruising kiss, locking his lips around yours despite your desperate punches to his chest. He only pulled away when he felt your warm tears streaming down your face, looking at you with a gaze full of unwanted sympathy. Sympathy that cut deeper than any blade.

“Are you happy she’s back in your life?” you choked out, your voice trembling as you stared at him with tear-filled eyes.

Sylus responded with a hesitant hum. “I am.”

You inhaled shakily, his answer shattering your heart. “Then, why are you here?”

“...I don’t know.” His crimson eyes reflected the sorrowful glow of the moon peeking from behind his head.

“Do you intend to keep me as your lover?” you asked, forcing him to confront his true intentions.

Sylus took a long, agonizing moment to respond, as if wrestling with a tumultuous storm of emotions—the pros and cons, the rights and wrongs. Finally, he spoke, and his words were a dagger to your soul.

“No,” he said at last, his hand retreating from your face. He stepped back and turned the distance between you into a chasm of heartbreak. “It’s been nice working with you, Y/N. I’ll send you a year’s worth of salary for your dedication to me. This should be the last time we meet.”

The weight of his words crashed down on you like an earthquake, and the full reality of your situation made it hard for you to breathe. Yes, it was a gut-punch. You were breaking in half, your heart shattering beyond repair because the pain was too much. It was all too much for a person to take, and it twisted something dark inside you.

“If I can’t have you,” you began, your voice shaking with an amalgam of rage and despair, “then no one can.”

Sylus’s eyes narrowed. “Y/N, you won’t dare—”

“I’ll kill her,” you spat, your tone dripping with venom. Your vow was laced with a genuine resolve, as if it were a promise you had embedded in stone. “The next time I see her, I’ll end her in the most brutal way I can. I swear it.”

His eyes flashed with a sinister light, one eye emitting a faint glow like a candlelight in a dark room. “If you try to go near her,” he said, his voice low and menacing, “I’ll kill you first.”

A twisted smile spread across your face, and madness began to gleam in your eyes. Driven to the brink of insanity, you laughed—a wild, almost feral sound that scared even the rats hiding in the darkest places.

“Then, do it,” you challenged, the final thread of your sanity snapping as he raised a finger, and the tendrils of his black-red mist soon swirling around you and crushing your bones with its pressure. “You’ve already taken everything from me, Sylus. Finish what you started.”

SECOND PART

#love and deepspace x reader #love and deepspace x you #lads x reader #lads x you #l&ds x reader #l&ds x you #sylus x reader #sylus x you #sylus angst #sylus smut #sylus fic #lads smut #lads angst #lads sylus

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