#and then someone starts speaking to you in your mother tongue

[reoverie]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ ⠀ /⠀ NOT-SO-LUKEWARM ⠀ ✦ ⠀ ITOSHI ⠀ RIN

⠀ 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗂𝗇 ⠀ ⨾ ⠀ 𝗋𝗂𝗇 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖺 𝖼𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗁 𝗈𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎

⠀ ⠀ 糸島凛⠀ ⟡⠀ 𝒇 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 ⠀ ⠀ 𝟪𝟫𝟧 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝖽𝗌 ⠀ ⠀ 𝗰𝘄. ⠀ 𝗇𝗈𝗇𝖾 ⠀ ⠀ 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲𝘀. ⠀ 𝗂 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝗉𝗈𝗋𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗐𝗄𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽 𝗋𝗂𝗇 𝖺𝗀𝖾𝗇𝖽𝖺 !

feline eyes watch you like a hawk, analysing your every move. if you were an opponent of his on the field, he would have devoured you whole and made you a part of his ploy.

but as he watches you, entranced by the way you carry yourself, he can’t seem to pick you apart. not when it seems like there’s sakura blossoms trailing behind you while an orchestra plays with every step you take.

rin is utterly infatuated with you, and he can’t understand why.

is it because of how you speak to everyone with such kindness and compassion? every word that rolls off your tongue feels like caramel drizzling over a scoop of vanilla ice cream, your dulcet voice echoing in his head when he least expects it.

no, that’s not it.

perhaps it was your willingness to help everyone in your class. you constantly put your classmates' needs above your own, which was somewhat expected of the class president. yet you constantly exceed everyone’s expectations, especially rin’s.

he didn’t expect to crush on someone as lukewarm as you. though the more his sights landed on you, he began to realize that you weren’t like the rest of the class.

every time your name was mentioned in a conversation, rin finds himself glancing at whoever mentioned your name, shifting in interest. apparently, you had ranked first overall in your class.

he didn’t know that.

so he finds himself leaning in his seat, trying to hear more. turns out, you were balancing your studies alongside the sport you did! which was… cheer?

cheerleading is hardly a sport! but he couldn’t help being intrigued by it, by you.

nevertheless, he starts to learn small things about you; your favorite color, your favorite songs, how you were awarded something in junior high because of your outstanding grades and overall attitude towards your classmates.

it urges him to talk to you, to finally utter a word to you and stand in your presence, even if it means awkward silence on his behalf. what would a conversation between the two of you entail? he’s never spoken to another girl, someone that wasn’t his mother or aunts.

rin never thought someone, much less a girl, had him feeling this way.

his usual stoic and confident demeanor was replaced with.. cowardice? anxiety? and is that a glint of fear in his eyes as he approaches you?

mind swirling with second thoughts, rin figures that this would blow up in his face. a soccer prodigy, afraid to talk to a girl? how idiotic was that! he’s never going to hear the end of it from his classmates. he might as well develop a plan to convince his mother to homeschool him so he never has to face you or anyone else again, while devoting the rest of his time to soccer more than he already has.

“oh, itoshi-kun! good morning!” your candy-like voice snaps him out of his impending spiral, cool toned eyes gazing down at you sitting at your desk.

had he walked to your desk subconsciously? it seems so.

the boy clears his throat, trying to get rid of the bubble of nerves that formed. “good morning..” he mumbles, eyes darting to some place in the classroom.

his timidness didn’t go unnoticed to you, which earns a giggle from you.

as class president, you’re friendly with most of your classmates, but there was one person you didn’t have the pleasure of befriending yet – itoshi rin.

he keeps to himself, and only ever speaks when participating in class. he plays soccer and shockingly enough (though it’s no surprise), he’s ranked second overall in class, right behind you. you only discovered that because of some classmates of yours, the group of girls more than happy to share that information with you.

awkwardness grows between the two of you, and it makes you shift uncomfortably in your seat. you were never good with tricky situations like this one, but you were fast on your feet.

“i hear there’s a soccer match coming up,” you speak up in hopes to get his attention. and you do, his teal eyes glancing downwards to meet yours. “are you gonna score the winning goal?”

rin knows it’s just a means to get him to talk to you, but regardless it makes his heart ring in his ears. everyone was aware he was a part of the school’s soccer club, but people rarely spoke to him about it, or spoke to him in general.

he thinks he needs to work on his people skills, but that thought is flushed away as he begins to share details of his upcoming game.

“i plan on it. no way am i letting any half-baked players get in my way of scoring.”

his way of speaking about his opponents stuns you for a moment, but the initial shock is replaced with a light chuckle of amusement and a warm smile.

for a beat, rin’s heart skips, and he’s certain his cheeks have gone from ivory to crimson as you smile up at him. it only pushes him to talk to you more.

and he does, taking a seat at the desk next to yours. he hopes whoever sits there doesn’t mind his overtake, elated over the fact that he’s talking to you, the only other thing that occupied his mind alongside soccer.

© REOVERIE, 2024 ⠀/ ⠀my works are purely fiction and, in no way, is canon aligned. please like and reblog if you enjoyed!

[ripegreenfruit]

I am absolutely feral over the second gif set scene, because Will has been completely won over already. Hannibal sees him and Will feels it and he’s practically giddy. And Hannibal’s smile?! I think that’s the most disarmed, genuine smile we get from Mads in the entire series. Because Will starts smiling and laughing and Hannibal simply can’t contain how enchanted he is. Probably because he’s never been enchanted by anyone before!!

And don’t even get me started on the next set, because Hannibal has no rizz and Will reacts like Hannibal just said something so clever and charming and Hannibal is like, “😶 I will be addicted to you til the day I die.”

Basically this post:

[bigassmoth]

yandere! elf x reader

Character belonging to @meo-eiru

(I hope I did him justice)

You are quite fed up with your stupid captor coddling you like a "mother" and then coaxing you to swallow his cum. While you have tried to correct his thinking, talking just didn't cut it. You had to take action now.

"Sit down." You speak to Silas as soon as he comes into the home, tone authoritative. He gives you a large smile, ears flushing- since when have you ever greeted him so cutely!? He happily chirps his assent and sets down a basket of various berries and herbs to sit with you on his couch.

"How are you? Are you hungry? Are you thirsty-"

"Do you remember what I have told you about mothers?" You interrupt him and take a sip from your mug, which contains a latte thankfully absent of his cum.

Silas claps and then finally picking up on your tone, decides to lower his hands and voice to sound serious. "Yes! You said mothers care for their children so they grow into adults and then let them go to support them from afar. And you said that mothers don't....uhm..." It was a genuine mental block, Silas didn't like or understand what you told him about his un-motherly behavior so he forgot it entirely.

As you silently scrutinize him, Silas begins to tear up. "I-I'm sorry I forgot-- I was listening I promise but I just can't- it's so hard." He blubbers and then wails, tears spilling over his cheeks. Months ago you would have thought it was over-dramatic acting trying to gain your sympathy. Ah, such a sweet thought. But no, this elf couldn't help but cry over the idea of disappointing you- or worse, not giving you his full undivided attention.

"That's ok, Silas." His waterworks stop when you softly use his name, a rare treat. "I know, it's complicated for you. So we are going to try something different today, I am going to show you everything that a mother cannot do." You set down your mug.

"Ok! Please show me!" He readily agrees, fired up despite his cheeks still being wet.

"Show you, what mothers never do." You emphasize and crawl into his lap, gently pushing him down on his couch.

He tilts his head in confusion, "Mothers don't do this?"

"They do not." You assert and press your lips to his. You start off the kiss with searing heat, all tongue and teeth. You slurp his own tongue into your mouth and nibble it- he squeaks and jerks but your hands hold his face still. Through the thin gossamer fabric of his clothes you feel his cock begin to harden. Quick to seize the opportunity, you grind down harshly on him, using the rough material of your own pants and the rolling of your hips to push his dick down as it struggles to stand.

Silas is beside himself, his hands have naturally come to rest on your hips and cannot decide if they should push or pull you. His hips have a mind of their own, bouncing up against you as you cruelly keep his now fully-hard member between his thighs. He is seeking friction and relief now, different from the controlled release of his 'feedings'. The noises that come from his mouth are high in pitch and frequent, he slips out 'please's in between your bites. Only after you are satisfied he will remain under you do you pull your mouth away from his.

"Who can do this to someone else, Silas?" You demand coolly. He squirms under you and your hips still. Coming down from the feelings of surprise, Silas thinks hard about his answer.

"M....Mothers?" His hesitant answer is progress.

You briefly lift your hips just so his cock can raise against the back of your ass and then you sit back down- hard. Silas throws his head back and yelps, his thighs trembling.

"No." Comes your rigid response. Silas is crying and squirming, likely without realizing he is doing so. He doesn't give you a response, only moans and sniffles. You grip his face until he looks at you.

"Silas, this is what a lover would do." You lift and roll your hips so his dick can finally stand up, and you place yourself behind it so it sits between your crotch and his stomach. You grind on him without build-up, setting a rough and hard pace. To keep your balance you place your hands on his chest and pinch his nipples hard enough you know it hurts.

He is practically possessed under you, letting out the deepest sounds you had heard from him as they become unlocked from his chest. He fully grinds his hips against yours, holds your ass tightly. Typically he touches himself lightly, as if unsure why he is doing it. The wetness he feels from between your legs, restricted by your clothing. The warmth, angry painful warmth, from his cockhead against his own stomach and the trail of thick cum that has begun sliding down his stomach from all of his bucking. Dimly, Slias is aware of how small you are compared to him, not small like a child anymore. Small in a different way, still exciting but new. Would his throbbing piece fit inside of you? Would you even let him? Small as you are, clearly you are an experienced and controlled adult. For the first time since he found you, you finally hold power over him. Now he wants to relinquish all of his power, trust it in the hands of someone who can make him feel so good, so used, so...in the back of his mind Silas remembers a term he read in human erotica, "sexy".

"Lovers milk cocks, lovers pin each other down, lovers touch these parts. Only lovers, no one else is allowed." He wonders how he could have ever thought your voice was innocent. Just hearing you made his ears tickle and his balls tighten. Would you say his name in that husky tone? Would you say his name the way he is chanting yours, mouth thick with drool and tongue too abused to enunciate?

He is choking under you, at this point you can't tell if he is processing your words or not. Finally without warning he snaps, his orgasm zaps through him with a ruthlessness that he hasn't experienced before. His cum coats your pants and his stomach, his cock twitches under you. He moans softly, erotically, as he comes down from his high. On your ass his fingers are twitching, weak from the strongest orgasm of his life but desperate to continue holding you. You pull away anyway, deciding that your work is done. You could now change into clean clothes and hopefully be done with this strange misguided pseudo-incest coming from the biggest bimbo of his species. No more waking up to hear "A good mother always feeds her children!" and receiving a cumshot to the face. You briefly clean the cum off of your own skin and slip into decidedly more comfortable clothes, finding Silas where you left him.

You are tempted to leave him on the couch, shuddering in his afterglow. But your sympathy wins out, you quickly clean him off with a rag (and ignore the way he starts loudly moaning as you touch him), throw a blanket onto him, and place a cup of water by his head.

"Rest for a bit. Once you can walk, clean yourself up. I'm going to make dinner." You turn to go to the kitchen but Silas catches your wrist.

Patiently, you look at him and wait for him to speak. But nothing comes out, the elf stares at his hand holding onto you, mesmerized by your fragility. Something so dainty he could easily break it- this used to terrify him. But now he can only think of ways to restrain you, or to be touched by you.

"Ok, let go. We need food." You sigh and pull your hand back but his grip tightens.

"I am not your mother."

Your face lights up, thank god! He caught on way faster than you thought he would! You should have done this ages ago! Of course some backwards pervert elf would respond to backwards pervert reasoning.

"Yes! Perfect!" In your excitement you are patting his massive shoulder and grinning, "You got it. I am an adult, not a child. You are not my mother, and I don't need a mother. So no more feedings-"

With a speed you didn't know he had, Silas pulled you against his chest. You groan with frustration.

"Fuck! Not this again! I'm not going to suck your tits, your mammary glands don't produce milk if not pregnant-"

"Lovers..." He rasps against your ear. You still as one of his hands, suddenly so intimidatingly large, slides down your back and pushes itself into your pants. His fingers glide between your asscheeks and curiously rub at your hole. You are flinching from the contact, his arms iron cages. He raises his legs and puts them between your own, then spreads them so your hole is forcibly exposed for his fingering.

"No- this isn't what I meant. We aren't lovers, lovers are- it's different. It requires a mutual component of emotional intimacy and chemical responses from environmental circumstances-" He presses a kiss to your ear and then wiggles his tongue inside. You writhe against him until he withdraws.

"Hmm~ I don't get it." He cheerily says and his fingers begin thrusting into you. "But I am not a mother, I understand now. I'm sorry for making so many mistakes." Your clean pants are becoming drenched in your own slick. "We will only do lover things from now on. Milking, Pinning, Touching. Both of us." He whispers sappily into your ear, positively lovestruck. You are still as cute as ever, protesting against the things that make your body feel good. He understands now that you are used to giving, which is why you gave him so much pleasure. He will have to be more assertive a lover for you, to make sure that your body is milked, pinned, and touched.

[nikovraskol]

crack baby ; three

wc ; 3745 masterlist after dying, you expected to be greeted with the open arms of the void swallowing your body, mind and soul. what you didn't anticipate is waking up sixteen once more with a chance to change your fate -- but something strange is happening, why are the locks changing and why are all eyes suddenly on you ?

tw ; brief mention of death, cursing, neglect

prologue, one, two, three, tbc..

Sometimes it feels like there is someone puppeteering you into the worst scenarios possible.

It started when finally, after days of contacting every single landlord in Gotham and Bludhaven, one kind old man reached back. The house he was willing to rent you wasn’t half bad either, certainly no Wayne Manor but a small apartment about a convenience store would suffice.

After regressing, you were stuck in a loop of tears and anger and whatever strange, uncomfortable feeling you got whenever you were reminded of your weird interaction with Dick.

But finally, light at the end of the rainbow! You could cry (of joy this time), but you’ve no time for tears. Not when you’re faced with a big, overpowering problem. Leaving the Manor.

Now, in the past, you could just get up and leave, however after your run-in with Damian and Dick, you’re apprehensive to leave your room. What if you’re ambushed again? By Tim? Or Jason? Or heaven forbid, Dick again? Terrifying! You don’t have time to dilly dally, not when Mr. Kim is waiting in your future home.

So, you’re very on edge, looking around every corner with apprehension, bracing yourself for anything and everything. When you finally reach the door, unharmed, you let out a deep sigh, only to hear a voice behind you.

“Master (Name).”

What now? You whip your head around, a sense of deja vu hitting you, oh, it’s just Alfred. You let out a sigh, glad it’s not Dick with his strange shenanigans. “Alfred, is everything alright?” You smile, out of everyone, Alfred is the one you love most, the one who cradled you close in those agonizingly lonely nights, when you’d call out for your mother, for your father, for anyone.

He was there.

“You’re heading out?” He asks, assessing you with an uneasy feeling in his stomach. A few days ago, Dick had informed him that you were acting strange, you had run away from your older brother. His mind raced, the implications of what that might mean has been weighing on the butler’s mind for days. It was uncharacteristic of you, up until about a week ago you would jump for joy if any of your family would glance at you.

But after that day, that day where you had skipped breakfast .. What changed? Why are you suddenly so uninterested in your family? It’s unnatural. Your whole life had always been dedicated to them, you’d do anything to be apart of them, to be seen. So why? When you finally had the chance to be centre stage, were you walking away? Something about your demeanour was off and he didn’t like it.

“Yes, I’ve–” You pause, should you tell Alfred? I’m going to move out and never speak to anyone from this house again! No, you’ll wait until you’ve secured a place before letting him know. You’re not prepared for that conversation. “I’m going to– for a walk.” The lie is stale on your tongue, you’ve never lied to Alfred, not besides petty ones to get out of trouble. But this feels different, a heavy knot tying in your shoulders as you watch the butler’s confused expression.

“Is that so? Because a few days ago, Master Dick–” You were out the door before he could finish his damn sentence. You are not in the mood to discuss Dick right now! It’s going to ruin your chipper mood.

The click of the door had Alfred’s eyes narrowing, his eyes trained on where you once stood. He believed that the small push he gave Bruce would be enough, but it’s just driving you further away. How troublesome, he doesn’t want for you to end up hurt.

“Wow! This is a really great place? And I get the first month free?” You are convinced whatever deity sent you back in time is responsible for the saint before you. The small, chubby old man who speaks to you in such a paternal voice it makes you want to cry.

“Of course, it’s no problem, I just need to speak to your guardian to agree on your emancipation, plus they’ll need to sign some consent forms.”

“What?” You blink dumbly, your heart momentarily stopping before the damn organ speeds up so quickly it could power a small village, you try to convey your thoughts but all you can manage is a few dumb noises. “Are– Are you sure?”

“Apologies, since you’re only sixteen – you must have a guardian’s consent, this is a legal rental after all,” he smiles apologetically, before adding, “if you want to live somewhere without your parent’s consent, it’ll have to be illegally – which can be dangerous, ‘specially for a youngling such as yourself.”

Oh, right. You’re sixteen. The fact slipped your mind once more, you’re so foolish. So damn foolish, nothing will ever be so easy, nothing in your life will ever be handed to you like this. “Right, I’ll– let you know.” You smile, your eyes scanning over the small apartment once more. It reminds you of the place you stayed with your mother, the small space encapsulating those memories you hold dear so perfectly that if you light a few ciggerattes and close your eyes, you'll go back in time.

“I’ll keep this off-sale for you, please let me know as soon as possible.” Mr. Kim, so nicely adds, his small face – wrinkled with age, softening at your disheartened expression. You so desperately want to beg for him to rethink, to make an exception, but you don't want to get him in trouble, not since he’s been so kind.

And so, with a heavy heart, you walk out, walking with effort since your feet don’t want to leave. Don’t want to leave a future that could be, that should’ve been. Ugh, how disgustingly sentimental.

You don’t feel like returning to the Manor, not yet. The air outside is nice, it’s nice to breathe in a taste of something other than the suffocating walls around you, even if it’s just some dingy back alley. It’s nice to see what could’ve been, that is until a large hand clamps down on your shoulder.

Oh, great. So the one time you leave the Manor you die again. Maybe you’ll regress to when you’re eleven next, you muse.

“What the hell are you doing around here?” You recognise that voice and immediately you don’t want to turn around. What is he doing out? During the day? You thought vigilantes only patrol during the lunar hours, so why? Your heart squeezes in your throat, desperate to claw its way out, to escape your pitiful body.

After a tense moment of silence, you turn around, there he stands. Red Hood, your older brother. Well, older brother is a stretch, you’ve never really interacted with him – much like the rest of your family. You were brought in when he was still Robin, but he died shortly after. A small, vengeful part of you blamed him for your neglect. That was until Bruce brought in Tim, and you watched bitterly how Tim was embraced immediately, he didn’t have to fight for any attention, he was accepted by everyone and you were forced to swallow the thought that it wasn't Jason's fault -- but your own.

When Jason was somehow brought back, you selfishly hoped you would be able to bond with him, that he’d be the one to look back at you, to get to your level and hold you close.

No such thing happened, the only time you saw him was when he was walking through the Manor to the Batcave, and even then, he gave you a bone-chilling glare. You didn’t think of him so optimistically after that. Now, with his hand clutching your shoulder, his expression covered by his menacing red helmet..

You’re ready to be shot 5 times again.

“I asked you a question.” He says, his hand tightening on your shoulder, you snap out of your stupor immediately, your fear morphing into frustration. You shove his hand off of you with more effort than you’re comfortable with, and even then you’re sure he’s the one who dropped his hand to not embarrass you any further.

“I’m allowed to go outside.” You huff, your nerves practically fighting against the restraints of your skin, a cold, overbearing feeling rushing over you. This was..– Everything was wrong, this is not how this is supposed to go, not at all.

“You were talking to Mr. Kim, why?” He asks bluntly, your heart stops beating for a moment, the only thing you can hear is the ringing in your ears, your brain trying to block this all out, trying to block out everything. “Actually, nevermind, I think I know why.”

You want to cry, why was this happening? You were so happy, so content. Why do you bump into them every time you leave your room, can’t you have one good day? Will you need to become a hermit? Will that get them off your back?

“I can drive you back to the Manor–”

“No, I’m fine.” You cut him off, your voice not masking any of your fear, it has Jason blinking under his mask. Why were you so on edge? What’s going on with you?

“I insist– Gotham isn’t safe for you to just be–..” He watches the downright terrified expression on your face before sighing and signalling for you to go, his stomach churns in an unfamiliar way as you scurry away.

Why were you so nervous? Could it be that you're scared of him?

That’s understandable, you’re not a vigilante, you’re just some average kid. But when he saw you walking alone, he detests himself for the way his heart swelled with happiness. In his Robin days, he loved watching the normalcy of your life, the way you would live free of any strings to the ghastly occupation he had.

He was scared to get closer, scared to shatter that illusion you had.

The fear amplified when he came back to life, he was relieved to see that you were still unaffiliated with Batman, but fuck, he was too cowardly to reach out, that day when you looked at him with gladness, he was hit with a paralysing fear of you getting too close, of you getting hurt. He replays the crushed expression that dawned your face like a damn broken stereo.

So when he saw you sulking about a few moments ago, he saw his chance to reach out, to get a taste of your normalcy, he took it, however selfish it may be.

“Whatever.” He grits, climbing up the roof to tail you, he’s content with watching from afar, for now.

The whole way back to the Manor felt like a fever dream, you can’t brush these oddities off as coincidences, why the hell did Red Hood approach you. Was he trying to pull a Damian? Was that a simple reminder of how pathetic you are? Why did he do that?!

Why was everyone acting so strangely?

The Manor offered you no comfort, it’s looming walls did nothing but remind you of your own shortcomings, you were afraid, you were perplexed but above all you were furious. Why now? When you’ve finally accepted your position in this family, why are they all turning their heads. Well damn them! You’re sick of this whole stupid charade, you won’t be that small child anymore, a child who knew only loneliness. You’re going to become your own person outside of the surname which has held you back for so long.

“We need to talk.” A voice calls out as you reach your room, what now? You’re sick of these damn conversations. You just want to move out, why is it so damn hard?

Oh, it’s Bruce again. Your lips press into a thin line as he stands before you, you can hear the soft humming running through the Manor walls. When you were younger, that sound brought you so much comfort, yet now it’s different. Like a warning.

“Talk? About what?” You try to smile, but it comes out as more of a grimace. You’re distinctly aware of the way his brows furrow at your pitiful expression. Oh hell, you hope this won’t be another walk down the Manor where you awkwardly fumble in silence.

You don’t say anything as he leads you away from your room, a sullen quilt draped over the Manor, a strange foreboding sense that something’s going to happen. Something bad. You’re utterly perplexed as your father guides you to a part of the Manor you’re somewhat familiar with.

As a child, you used to lurk around the corners of these very walls, watching your family, itching to reach out and join in but fearing ruining the delicate painting they created. Fearing rejection, the cold glares and sneers as they pushed you away. So you trailed silently, waiting, hoping that someone would look back, smile at you and maybe hold out their hand. But it only ever happened in your dreams, a pale illusion of a reality that should've been true.

“Where did you go?” He asks, his eyes boring onto you with such intensity you can distinctly feel the way your blood begins furiously to pump through your veins, why did he care? “Alfred said you went out.”

“I just wanted some fresh air.” You’re not sure why you’re lying, it’d be easier to tell Bruce that you went to go see a house, the consent forms are folded in your pocket, waiting for his signature. It’d be so simple, so easy. Just a dip of pen on paper and you’ll be out.

So why do you feel such dread? A dread unlike anything you’ve ever felt. When you were in that alley, bleeding out helplessly, even then this oppressive feeling, which tightens your ribcage, forcing your organs into a tight space until you couldn’t breathe, until you couldn’t comprehend if it was your heart pounding so heavily or your lungs, wasn't as scary.

“You’re only sixteen, you need to let someone know where you’re going.” His voice is so unbelievably despotic that it made your very core tremble with anxiety, with a looming sense of doom.

“It’s never been a problem before.” You mumble, your voice a lot quieter than you would’ve liked, your vocal chords burning with each word passing through it, your nerves invading each of your senses, as if warning you to stay quiet.

Bruce says nothing, and the moment the air grows stale you wish you could take your words back. You can see the way his brows crease, the way he looks at you as though you’re some sort of criminal and not his own flesh and blood, the soft humming in the walls has disappeared, left behind in your area of the Manor. Though it’s odd, when you would lurk around the Manor as a youthling, there was always some sort of background noise in this area, where everyone hung out. The silence unnerved you, another thing that’s changed, another thing you couldn’t have predicted.

“If you’re going out, make sure to let me know.” He sighs, his expression softening as he looks down at you with what you interpret as belittlement, a burning hot rage boils in your stomach, and once more, you’re hit with the knowledge this isn’t how things are supposed to go, Bruce isn’t supposed to care that you go out without telling anyone, he’s not supposed to care about you.

‘You don’t get to tell me what to do!’ you want to say, you want to scream, to ask what rights he has to treat you like a child? How dare he? It makes your very being tremble with frustration, your hands clenching with barely contained anger.

But you don’t. Why? Is it the natural response from your mind? The fear of disappointing him? The fear that if you speak up, you’ll be kicked out and left to rot? Or perhaps it’s the fear of confrontation you gained through his negligence, the weakness he moulded. But still, you’re not sixteen anymore, not really. Mentally, you’re twenty-one, you’ve been through each stage of your life, and maybe, sure, the day you died, you were content for them to walk all over you in exchange for a single glance at your direction.

But you’ve died and come back (in time)! You shouldn’t let them walk all over you anymore, shouldn’t be content as an afterthought. So– you open your mouth and–

“What’s going on?” Another voice speaks out, great, because this is exactly what you needed, another clown to join the circus. Oh.

Is this a joke? Is the person responsible for your misfortune giggling at your despair, is it amusing to see you suffer?

Damian, Dick, Jason and now Tim.

Why is Tim walking up to you? Why is he looking at you? A rush of dread, a sensation you’ve grown familiar with in the past few days, washes over you. You’ve never had his eyes on you, never for so long. It’s unnerving. You thought the calculating look in Bruce and Damian’s eyes was scary, but the way Tim looks at you now? His eyes zeroed in on you? It has your insides melting into liquid, the urge to cover your face, to hide in the corner and bury your face in your knees is overwhelming.

You don’t want his eyes on you, you decide. Years of clawing at your own shortcomings, of desperately trying to appeal to him, to have him look back – you would do anything at that time for him to look at you the way he is now.

But now? You don’t like it, he wears a neutral expression, but the look in his eyes makes you feel vulnerable, like he’s picking you apart one by one, each twitch, each mannerism.

“It’s about what we talked about.” Bruce says, his tone completely natural, like he’s discussing the weather, you don’t know the specifics but you have a nagging feeling that you know what he’s speaking of.

“Ah. Really? You’re still on that?” Tim tuts, his head tilting ever so slightly as he studies you. Just as you’re about to ask what the fuck does he mean by that, he turns his attention to Bruce. “I told you, they can’t do anything without your consent, they’re 16.”

How dare they? How dare they talk as though you’re not here? This is disgusting, what loathsome, egotistical dickheads! Your hands itch, the anxiety in you speeding all over your body like a livewire, mixing with your anger to create an overwhelming feeling of terror.

What was the point of Bruce bringing you here? To mock you? Show you how great they have it? What you’ve been missing out on? Well, screw him. You need to get away before you lash out, you’re better than that. Better than this.

The pair watches as you walk away, your whole body tense. For a moment, there’s a prolonged silence which is broken by Tim. “Did we do something wrong?” He asks, genuinely confused by your little display.

When he came back from a particularly tough mission, the last thing he was expecting was everybody collectively freaking out. Bruce, Damian, even Dick were all tense, looking around each corner – searching for something, someone. 

It was weird for a multitude of reasons, firstly – Dick was supposed to be gone by now, his stay at the Manor was for a few days only. Why is he here? And secondly, nothing particularly stressful was happening in Gotham, so what was with the gloom and doom?

When Bruce sighed, telling him about your plans to move out, well, to say Tim was confused was an understatement. That did not deserve such a reaction, but then he really thought about it, and, if this is how they react to you threatening to leave..

If you were to actually step out that door, to alienate away from them, to discard your last name. His head begins to throb at the implications, he’s acutely aware of how selfish it is for him to wish to keep you around, to keep you in this Manor all to keep himself happy.

But then the thought that, really, he’s doing this for you! If you thought it was so easy to just get up and leave, that at sixteen you’d just be able to pack up and go. Well, with that stupidity, you wouldn’t survive outside, in Gotham no less. He was able to placate Bruce’s stressing, thankfully, because the man looked three minutes away from a heart attack.

You wouldn’t be able to go without Bruce’s permission, so long as they had that – you’d stay with them. But that’s what led him to seeking you out now, if you had ideas about leaving that meant you were unhappy.

He was hoping to talk to you, to ask if you wanted to hang out – that’s what you want, right? When he thinks of you, his mind conjures up the slightly annoying, slightly endearing child that you were. He’ll hang out with you, destroy those silly notions and everything will go back to how it was.

So why did you stomp off? That’s not how you’re supposed to act. That’s not how you are.

“I don’t think so.” Bruce replies to his earlier question, his eyes still trained on the spot in which you were. How could you walk off?

Why were you so off during that conversation? He couldn’t…– This belies everything Alfred had told him about you, it's left Bruce conflicted. He had hoped that by bringing you here, he could ask which room you liked best. But you walked off, why? Why do you deny his affection? He was worried when he heard you left, a small, vulnerable part of him was afraid that you wouldn’t come back, that you had left for good, slipped through his fingers before he could hold you close.

So, when he saw you walk in – oh, he was elated. He just wanted to convey his worries, but you seemed to have gotten the wrong idea. He really doesn’t want that, you don't need anymore reasons to leave.

He doesn’t want the terrified expression on your face, he wants that dazzled look you used to carry around, he wants you – not this restless part of you, but the real you.

He'll get it back, he's sure he will.

ugh i hate the misunderstanding trope i say as i write the misunderstanding trope

tag list (open, ask to be added) ;

@estreiiuh @beyondblissxoxo @jjsmeowthie @vanessa-boo @delias-stuff @d3nnji @wizzerreblogs s @lilyalone @strawbrysapphic @regulus-things s @iimichie @buckturd @eloriis @wassupbroski55555 @eyeless-kun @anakilusmos @peehall @bigeyedbaby @chaeugwi @snailpebbles @fandomly-obsessed @kitkatkitmeow @the-holy-pigeon @sheep-from-rad @mei-simp

[lomlhwa]

mommy (j.wy)

pairing: sex worker!wooyoung x client!reader

preview: you really wanna be a mom, but you don't wanna be tied to a man. so you find a service that offers impregnation with no strings.

tags/warnings: fem reader, exhibitionism (fucking in a very not private room), bondage, mating press, so much breeding, lots of talk about making the reader a mom (of course), masochism, degrading + praise, sir kink, choking, hand kink, pet names (princess, angel, baby), wooyo tries to be professional and fails, so much dirty talk, unprotected penetration (wrap it before you tap it), creampie

trigger warnings: n/a

wc: 1.6k

song recs for this fic: i need u by bts

a/n: someone requested this but i'm not gonna put them on blast (you know who you are)

the sterile environment of the fertility clinic was nothing less than uninviting. the bright fluorescent lights were nauseating to say the least. it almost made you wanna turn around and change your mind, but the secretary spotted you before you could make a run for it. “who are you here to see, ma’am?” she asks you, pushing her glasses back up the bridge of her nose. “um, jung wooyoung.” she scrolls through her computer before finding your appointment. “ah, miss y/n. you’re his 4pm to 6pm?” she asks and you nod. she clicks her tongue before picking up the phone sitting on the desk and dialing a short set of numbers. you hear the sound of the intercom beeping before she speaks. “jung wooyoung to the lobby, please.” 

before you know it, one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever seen comes sauntering into the lobby. “you paged me, mrs. na?” she raises her hand and points at you with her bright red acrylic nail. his eyes follow her finger until he reaches you. “she’s your next client. she’s here for the all-in.” a smirk forms on his face as he turns to face you. “hello, i’m wooyoung. please follow me back to our room.” you nod and walk towards the door he entered through. “enjoy your service,” the secretary says, not even looking up from her computer. your hands tremble while holding your purse in your hands and walking down the hallway. 

wooyoung pushes open a glass door, leading to a room solely adorned with a bed and a nightstand. you spin around to find a coat stand and place your purse and sweater on one of its hooks. when you turn back around to the bed, you find wooyoung staring at you with blown pupils.”have you signed all the paperwork?” you rock back and forth on your heels as you nod. “i know that mrs. na said you’re here for the “all-in”, but i need you to verbally specify what you’re here for,” he instructs. he leans back on his palms, raising his hips slightly to adjust how he’s sitting. you curse god for the way wooyoung’s grey sweatpants sit on his body. “um, i would like to be a mother. but, i don’t have a partner, nor do i want to be tied to someone for this process. so, i guess i’m here for you to um, get me pregnant.” your voice lowers at the last part, still feeling incredibly embarrassed that this is the way you’re spending your saturday afternoon. 

wooyoung rises off of the bed and walks over to you. “you understand this is a completely professional exchange then? nothing done or said means anything?” when he runs his finger over your bottom lip, you start seriously reconsidering your decision. but it’s too late to turn back now. “i understand.” another smirk flashes over his face before he moves out of the way. “well princess, on the bed with your legs spread. i wanna see how this pretty skirt bunches at your waist.” your feet move as if they have a mind of their own, rushing to get yourself thrown on the bed. wooyoung groans at the sight of your compliant body following his every command.

he slots himself between your legs, running two fingers over your slit through your underwear. your hands move to grip his arm and he's quick to pin you down. “professional means you don’t touch.” he leans over you, grinding his hardening cock against your core as he reaches into the nightstand. he pulls out a pretty pink ribbon, waving it in your face. “i’m gonna tie your hands to the headboard since you can’t keep your hands to yourself.” before you can protest or fake promise not to do it again, your wrists are crossed and bound together. you struggle against your restraints as wooyoung ghosts his fingers down your sides, goosebumps following his path. 

“much better. i like you like this. so perfect and compliant.” you turn your head away from his dominant gaze, your cheeks heating up. he bucks his hips against yours and a small whimper escapes your lips. you bite your lip to try and suppress any further noise threatening to leave your throat. wooyoung grabs you by the jaw and forces you to face him once more before landing a hard slap across your face. “sluts don’t get to look away from the one who’s going to fuck them.” your cheek stings as wooyoung looks at you with fake pity. 

“from this point forward, you will refer to me as ‘sir’, got it?” you press your lips into a thin line before nodding. you hadn’t realized you had booked the kinkiest worker in this establishment. “words, princess.” your face flushes before you respond; “yes, sir.” a wide, toothy grin takes over his face as he leans down to kiss you. his plump lips envelop yours, pressing his entire body against yours. the kiss is a messy clash of teeth and tongue. you tug desperately against your restraints, desperate to feel more of him. you grind your hips up against him and his hands fly to your hips and slam them back down. “bad girl.” 

you whine, a frown forming on your face. wooyoung removes himself from between your legs to pull your underwear off from under your skirt. “i don’t wanna take this cute skirt off of you. i love how slutty you look in it.” he admires you for a moment, drinking in your appearance. suddenly, you realize that behind wooyoung, there’s a large window with no curtains drawn over it. your legs snap shut as someone walks by the room, despite them not even looking into the room. wooyoung clicks his tongue and shakes his head, tilting his head to the side. “everyone’s used to what happens in this room, angel. don’t get insecure now.” he grabs both of your knees and forces your legs back open. 

wooyoung pulls his sweatpants and boxers down to mid-thigh, letting his cock finally spring free. your jaw drops at the sight. you had read his profile online, and it was adorned with a bright red size warning. a company policy you assumed. but you had seriously underestimated how badly he needed the warning. “scared, baby? don’t worry, i’ll make it fit.” you shake your head, staring at him with wide eyes. “it won’t fit, it won’t,” you babble and he hushes you. “i’ve got you. your pretty cunt is gonna suck me in so perfectly. sluts know how to take dick, right?” biting your bottom lip, you stare at him with a worried expression. “y-yes, sir.” 

he brings his hand to his cock, aligning it with your entrance. your body tenses at the feeling of finally getting to what you truly came for. “i’m gonna breed you so well, princess.” his jaw falls slack as he bottoms out into you. “fuck you so full of my cum so that you have no choice but to get pregnant.” you tug so hard against the ribbon tying you down that you worry it might rip your skin open. wooyoung takes his time with the first few strokes, drinking in the way you feel and how your body reacts to him. he admires the way your eyes cross and your hips stutter every time he rolls his hips. “p-please let me t-touch you, sir,” you plead in a soft, high pitched voice. in this moment, wooyoung loses it. he reaches over you to untie your wrists, holding them in his hands. he sees how bruised you are and presses kisses to your wrists. 

your arms rest on his shoulders and you tangle your fingers in his hair. he shoves his face in your neck, panting like a dog. “i know i said this was professional, but you’re so pretty i’m already so close.” he pulls away from you and connects his hand to your throat. his long fingers wrap around your neck, squeezing just hard enough to make your vision blurry. “c-cumming oh my god, i’m gonna cum,” you manage to barely get those words out before wooyoung folds you in half and forces you into the mating press. “you’re gonna be such a good mom. you’re gonna look so pretty all swollen with my kid. oh, you clenched so hard at that, you like when i talk to you like this, don’t you? you little slut.” your legs begin to shake as he drives you over the edge, your orgasm making your vision go white. 

“just a little more baby, i’m gonna fuck you through it. i’m gonna fill you up so well.” a pout forms on your puffy lips as your body stings from overstimulation. he presses kisses all over your face as his hips stutter. finally, he releases inside you, painting your walls white. he chants praises and compliments as he empties himself out. he pulls out slowly, quick to shove two fingers into your hole to plug his cum inside. he leans down awkwardly to grab your panties and helpy ou put them back on to catch what drips out of you. 

he pulls his pants and boxers back up to his hips before speaking. “it’s now 6pm. your session is over. take a test in a month and a half to two months. call the clinic if it fails and you may be eligible for a free second session.” he presses his lips into a thin line before continuing. he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone before handing it to you.”i’m not supposed to do this, but please give me your number.” you smile and type out your number before handing his phone back to him. 

you can see his smile as he walks out, leaving you to your own devices. you struggle a little to walk but manage eventually. the secretary gives you a knowing smile as she sees you wobble out. “have a good night, ma’am.”

© lomlhwa 2024

[noirscript]

silent servitude

WARNING/S! DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT. YANDERE. noncon; breeding; powerplay; biting; slightly descriptive sex scenes; f!reader

One must abide by His Majesty's every rule.

It was a phrase you often hear from other servants in the castle from the moment you joined them as your mother's apprentice. A phrase that helped them survive the dog-eat-dog world inside the palace walls.

“You're not expected to excel in your work, but do not even think about failing the task given to you.” Your mother grabbed your shoulders with a squeeze. “Do you understand, my child?”

You nodded your head as you tightened your grip on your skirt. “Yes, mother.”

She lightly tap your cheek before placing a lasting kiss on your forehead. “Go on, dear. I will see you before sunset.”

You looked around your surroundings before hesitantly nodding. For some reason, you can't seem to ignore what you've been feeling from the moment you entered the servant's gate. As if someone's watching your every move.

The path inside the dark tunnel was short, but for you, the time seemed to slow down. Your feet felt heavy to take one step forward after another. Like it was keeping you from going any further.

“You've arrived,” a middle-aged woman spoke while standing in the midst of the desolate area, few steps from where you came from. “Follow me.”

You scanned your surroundings, a poor attempt in remembering the path where you came from. However, the more you walk further and further away from the path that leads to your mother, the more you could sense something ominous was about to occur.

“Are you listening?”

You bowed your head and apologized.

“Stand tall and look at me,” she ordered. “In this castle, you must keep your eyes and ears open at all times. Do not even try to let your mind wander elsewhere. If you don’t want to suffer any consequences.”

Your body shook. You tried to speak, but your voice broke. However, when you nodded your head in desperation, the woman simply turn around and started to list down the rules within that castle.

“Do you even know why you're here?”

“T-To train to become my m-mother's replacement...”

The woman sneered. “If that'll help you sleep at night.”

After giving you a tour around an area that only a handful of servants can access, she led you towards a gated path that lead towards a small chateau in the middle of a small open field inside the castle walls.

The chateau, albeit small compared to the colossal main palace, was still bigger than your home. You also noticed the crawling vines on its walls, and as well as its tinted windows that kept its interior hidden from prying eyes.

“You will keep this place in order. You may not ask for anyone's help. You will only work here alone. Your food will be provided by one of the servants, but do not let anyone else inside the chateau.”

“But my lady...”

“That is all you need to know.” She looked down at your stature before clicking her tongue. “Stupid commoners.”

With that, she left you on your own.

THINKING BACK, you should've realized the message behind her poisonous words. Nobody would think that it is normal for a servant to clean an entire chateau within the day all by themselves.

That doing such chore might result to an inevitable mishaps that forces one to change their attire. Something that might force them to take every piece of clothing from themselves.

“Y-Your Majesty, please forgive this commoner from—” you felt one of his large, calloused hand caressing your face while the other hand pulled you closer to his bare body.

“Kept that mouth shut before I do it myself,” he whispered against your cheek before slightly biting it. “Who would've thought that this would be an easy chase?”

Callix, the reigning monarch, is known for his compassion towards the commoners. Some people would even see him interact with the lowest of the poor during their darkest moment, providing them hope and warmth.

But as you writhe beneath him, allowing him to touch every inch of your body as he please, made you doubt everything you heard about him.

After savoring your heat, he aligned his thick member against your quim. Callix grabbed you by your cheeks and forced you to meet his gaze.

“Please...” you pleaded, but he only swallowed all your pleas and cries as he penetrated your tight walls.

When your first intercourse with him ended almost immediately, you believed that he would let you go. That he would order you leave and never show yourself in front of him.

But after resting his head against the crook of your neck, he suddenly grabbed your ankles and pushing it apart.

You could feel his cum gush out of your quim, but Callix was far from satisfied.

That night alone, he ravished your body until the morning sun has risen.

When you woke up, you felt the coldness of the heavy iron wrapped around your ankles.

“You're awake,” you heard his voice from somewhere in the room. “I have some news for you. So, open your eyes.”

You tried to open your eyes, but for some reason, your eyelids felt heavy.

“Are you disobeying my orders?” he asked while gritting his teeth.

“Open your eyes!” he demanded as he grab your cheeks tightly.

You tried your best to open at least one of your eyes and look at him.

“There's my queen's beautiful eyes.” You could feel his hands all over your body as he leave kissing against your face. “Can you hear me, my queen?”

“M’not... queen...”

He chuckled before yanking your hair back, exposing your neck to him.

“You dare oppose me, hm?” he asked as he harshly nip your neck. “Are you forgetting who I am, my queen?”

How you wish you could simply forget who he is.

Quick note: This might be the start of some series. Let me know your thoughts :)

[silkjade]

MIRACLE ALIGNERS

neuvillette x reader ⤀ warnings: none ! ⤀ synopsis: the melusines play matchmaker ⤀ notes: do they need an ideal mother

Your relationship with fontaine’s melusines started when you took on the menial task of helping menthe tailor the sleeves of her too long cuffs, and was solidified after your wholehearted support for aeval’s aquabus tour. In such a small community, word travels fast and your popularity skyrockets when mamere paints your portrait as her muse of choice. 

It’s not like you mind, as they’re quite easy to get along with—very sweet, if not a little naive—and you do enjoy their company when they greet you on the streets or invite you to tea. Still, it comes as a bit of a surprise when a few approach you, absolutely convinced that you’d be a great companion to their ‘very lonely, very human friend.’ 

…Which is how you come to find yourself seated at cafe lucerne, impatiently tapping your fingers at this supposed ‘friend’ who would be so rude as to make you wait more than 30 minutes past the designated meeting time. You take a deep breath to keep your irritation at bay, convincing yourself that any friend of the melusines, especially one they speak so highly of, must be a good person.

As you continue to wait, one table away, something very blue crosses your line of sight, and you look up to discover that it’s none other than the esteemed iudex himself, the chief justice who radiates such an air of refined elegance that you cannot help but sit up a little straighter in his vicinity. Seems this day just got a little more interesting as it’s not everyday you run into the notoriously elusive monsieur neuvillette just out and about on the streets of fontaine.

You yourself have been to your share of trials at the opera epiclese, seen him from his seat up above, looming over the courtroom, high and mighty. Up close, he’s still all sharp lines and perfect etiquette, the very personification of grace, but you can’t deny the fact that he’s so much more handsome in person. 

He casts a glance towards a nearby clock, and while his expression remains largely neutral, his violet eyes dance, perturbed. Perhaps he’s also meeting someone here? You deduce that it must be so, judging by the fact that he’s seated at a table clearly meant for more, and since you obviously have the time, you might as well play detective, which now begs the question: who could he be meeting?

You highly doubt it’s lady furina, so perhaps another official? Except an outdoor cafe is hardly the place to conduct such business. Besides, the average fontainian would be much too intimidated to dare keep someone of such high regard waiting. Maybe a friend, then? 

Your head tilts as you think through your observations. At least outwardly, monsieur neuvillette is…cold. He presents himself the same way in and out of court: untouchable as the sun, but with none of its warmth. He’s private and stays out of the public eye, only ever seen interacting comfortably with the archon and…the melusines… 

You lean back in disbelief at the way it all clicks. Impossible. The friend the melusines so adamantly wanted to introduce you to is…monsieur neuvillette? What a ridiculous notion to even entertain. Besides, it’s public knowledge that he’s much more of a father figure to them… although it does explain why they seemed so tongue-tied describing this so-called ‘friend.’

And…he does look quite forlorn sitting there, face blank and fingers laced together. You make a mental note to remind your little friends that as amiable as he may be with them, they cannot just blindside you with the chief justice of fontaine. Still, a meeting is a meeting, and it’d be terribly rude of you to just up and leave.

“Um, pardon me monsieur neuvillette but you wouldn’t happen to be meeting anyone here, would you?”  

Neuvillette blinks. What a pleasant surprise; not many approach him of their own accord. “As it happens, I was supposed to meet a few melusines for tea.” He gestures to the evidently empty table, though his sharp ears catch the faint whispers amidst the rustle of leaves to his side. 

“However, I suspect they may have forgotten to inform me of their change of plans.” He clears his throat, tilting his head towards a nearby bush where the tips of a few very colorful pairs of ears wiggle in excitement.

The corners of your lips quirk into the beginnings of a small smile. “That’s funny—a few melusines insisted that I meet a very human friend of theirs, though he’s yet to show up.” For obvious reasons, you decide to drop the fact they called him lonely behind his back.

Ah. So you were the kind individual his melusines often spoke so fondly of.

“Perhaps he attended the trial this morning. It did run longer than anticipated.” Yes, you knew there must have been a valid explanation to the tardiness. 

“Well, maybe we can keep each other company while we wait?”

Neuvillette gestures at the empty chair across from him and you swear the sun seems to shine a little brighter. “I would very much like that.”

© silkjade — do not steal, plagiarize, translate or repost any content onto any other platform

[starogeorgina]

𝐇𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐚𝐥 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐝

Parings: Alys Rivers x reader, Daemyra x reader

Warnings: Smut, swearing, choking, incest, slight dubcon (under the influence of magic)

You had yet to decide if being forced to travel to Harrenhal alone in the name of your brother and king, Aegon, to persuade the river lords to fight for him was the best or worst thing to happen to you during the war. You arrived days before Daemon did, but you had barely spoken to anyone; you had been far too trapped in your own mind to rally an army.

“Good girl, just like that.”

Alys’s praise causes the throbbing between your legs to worsen. If the rumors were to be believed, Alys Rivers was a witch, and you weren’t sure if you believed she was anything other than a temptress. From the moment your dragon landed at Harrenhal, you sensed something shifting—a charge in the air. You arrived during the hour of the owl, and Ser Simon Strong had been a gracious hoist and honest about not bending the knee to Aegon from the beginning. He also warned you to stay away from Alys.

She starts rutting against your face while you suck on her clit. “Are you going to do everything I say, precious?”

Unable to answer verbally, you nod.

“Good. I know that tongue of yours can be used for more than just a witty comeback, so I expect you to use it on the silver-haired queen.”

You nod again.

Alys looks down at you with a smirk on her face; she thrives welding such power over a dragon. She strokes your hair and says, “You’ll take the king consort's seed and seduce the queen. Pleasure her as you do me.”

Perhaps Alys was a witch; it was the only logical reason why you would agree to such a thing.

Alys squeezes your breast, causing you to press your thighs together. She moans, “I want you to moan for them. Let them hear the sweet sounds of you coming undone.”

You finally remove your mouth from her cunny. “What do I do after?”

“When they are done fucking you, you come and find me.” She smiles down at you, her hand delicately resting above your forehead. “But first, you will finish pleasuring me, and then I shall return the favor until the time is right.”

—

“She’s been too busy burying her head between the witch's thighs to raise an army.”

Daemon wasn’t wrong; you were preoccupied with Alys when Rhaenyra arrived at Harrenhal. The army her husband had gathered bent the knee to her, and the couple had reunited. You raise your brows, challenging him, “Jealous?”

His lips twitch as he fights back the urge to lash back, but the look on Rhaenyra's face prevents him from saying anything further. She had you brought to their bedchamber to speak in privacy. “Last we spoke, you mentioned your mother was pushing to find you a match; did you make one?”

“I refused every man she put before me.”

The line of questioning had nothing to do with the war being waged. Perhaps the witch was messing with everyone's minds.

“Why?” She asks sternly.

“Mirre se vali sia nākostōbā.” (All the men were weak.)

She smirks, “You want to marry someone who shares the blood of the dragon.”

“No, I don’t want to marry them. I just want their seed.” You chuckle, “Don’t look so surprised, sister; we both know the men we choose to marry don’t need to father whatever children we bear. I don’t see an issue with wanting to keep our bloodline pure.”

Rhaenyra and Daemon share a look. They silently exchange words, and when Rhaenyra nods her husband's strut over to you, he takes your chin in his hand. “The queen is not only generous; she is merciful. She will spare your life and will allow me to fill you with my seed, but only if you swear to fight for her.”

“I swear.”

“Sȳz riña.” (Good girl)

Rhaenyra traces her hand along the curve of your ass. “The child and any dragon they bond with will only fight for me.”

“Yes.”

Daemon comes up behind you and rubs your breasts through your dress. When he feels your nipples become hard, he pinches them. His lips brush against your ear. “Say yes, my queen.”

“Yes, my queen.”

He chuckled cruelly, “such a wanton princess.

“A spoilt princess,” Rhaenyra adds. “Strip for us.”

Quickly, you take off your dress and stand naked in front of them. The thought of being touched by them both excited and terrified you.

Rhaenyra looks you up and down with a wicked smile on her face. “Lay on your back and open your legs.”

Following her command, you get onto the bed and lay on your back. The blue sheets beneath you are soft against your skin. Heat rushes to your cheeks when you spread your legs open and expose yourself to both of them.

Rhaenyra tuts seeing how wet you are. “And I suppose I’ll need to make sure you’re ready to take the king's cock,” her tone mocking, yet she slides her nails across the soft flesh of your thigh, then slides a finger into your wet cunny with ease. “She is tight.”

“Oh,” Daemon taps his cock against your mouth. As soon as your lips parted, Daemon shoved himself into your mouth. “You are indeed a merciful queen.”

Rhaenyra removed her own clothing; the curves of her body are a beautiful sight to see. She stands between your legs and leans down. She flicks her tongue over your clit a few times, but when you moan, she stops. “You are enjoying this far too much. This is a privilege you should be working harder for.”

Like an obedient worker in a pillow house, you take him deeper into your mouth. Daemon groans, feeling the vibrations of you gagging on his cock. He wipes the saliva pooling from your mouth and spreads it across your breasts. “You enjoy being used; perhaps we will bring you back to Dragonstone to be the queen's whore. Would you like that?”

You nod while choking on him.

“She’s so wet.” Rhaenyra kneels between your thighs, and her tongue dips in between your folds.

Daemon pulls his cock from your mouth and watches as his wife scissors two fingers inside your cunt and sucks on your clit, stretching you out for him. From the skilled way Rhaenyra fucks you with her finger and mouth, you know this isn’t the first time she’s touched a woman.

Coming undone, you arch your back and coat her fingers with your juices.

Rhaenyra and Daemon switch places, and while he slides the head of his cock between your folds, you take Rhaenyra's breast into your mouth and suck greedily.

Daemon mumbles something in High Valyrian, then roughly pushes into you, stretching your cunt on his cock.

Feeling your body tense, Rhaenyra glides her hand over your stomach and, using two fingers, starts rubbing your clit. “You are taking him well. Is this your first time being bedded by a man?”

You let go of her breast to answer her, “Yes.”

Daemon lightly slaps your thigh.

“Yes, my queen.”

Smirking Daemon says, “The princess is learning quickly.”

Alys voice echoes inside your head, telling you to please Rhaenyra just as you did her. “My queen, please, let me pleasure you with my mouth.”

Her free hand is suddenly around your neck, and Rhaenyra squeezes hard to make you squirm without completely cutting off your air supply. Her lips graze against yours. “Do you think you deserve to taste me?”

“No, my queen, I don't. But I do wish to make you feel good.”

Rhaenyra smashes her lips against yours, then abruptly pulls away. Daemon speeds up his thrusts while Rhaenyra gets onto the bed and straddles your face. Alys has taught you how to fuck a woman with your tongue and fingers, and it doesn’t take Rhaenyra long to start moaning your name.

Her screams of pleasure are silenced by Daemon when he captures his lips.

The sounds of them kissing are exhilarating. Your legs are gripped tightly and held open wider as Daemon’s thrusts become sloppy. It only takes a few more rubs at your clit for you to come undone again, but your moans are muffled by Rhaenyra’s cunt. The vibrations of your moans tip her over the edge; she squeezes your breast harshly while riding her high against your face.

Daemon fingers dig into your hips. He grunts, spilling his seed inside you.

Rhaenyra gets off you and tenderly kisses your neck; her skin is shinny with sweat, and her head is disheveled. She looks beautiful. “What are you thinking about, princess?”

“That Harrenhal is cursed.”

Confused by your answer, she rests her head against your shoulder while Daemon caresses your leg with one hand and strokes his half-erect cock with the other. The king consort was far from done with you.

Somewhere in the distance, you hear Alys giggling. Taking Daemon’s seed was only the beginning of her plan.

[lolashifts]

SHIFTING ISN'T SPECIAL

please bare with me on this one bc it might be a bit longer than i expected (and excuse my very bad title-naming skills 😭)

in this essay i will try to put down in words exactly what i realised today as i started my first day into reprogramming my mind, something that i’m doing while following reya singh’s method. what is that?

shifting IS easy.

yes, i know everybody says it, but it’s the truth and i’m not telling you this as someone who shifts regularly to her drs, because i don’t (yet!). however, it did just click in my mind why people always say it and mean it. and i feel incredibly stupid for not understanding it waaay earlier than just now, 4 years into my journey.

now, let me walk you through the thought process behind this.

in reya’s 4-day method for reprogramming your mind, she instructs to write a list of your beliefs and non-beliefs. this may sound really silly and kinda useless at first - believe me, i woke up this morning thinking “what exactly am i supposed to do after that?” - but there’s a valid reason for it, which is to help you delete from your mind the idea that shifting is like a superpower that’s simply not for everyone and very hard to reach, when that is not the case at all!

in my own beliefs list, i’ve written “i am capable of shifting” right in between “i can speak english”, “i can write and read” and “i can eat --” (and some other things like “i can’t eat gluten”, bc i have celiac disease, “i can dream”, we all do! and “i can lucid dream”). you see where i’m going with this? i’m putting shifting in the same category as things we all normally do, that we sometimes don’t even think about doing since they’re such a natural activity. to this list i could add “i can breathe”, because we do it automatically, without even realising unless we focus on it. the same can be said for drinking or eating really, if you’re angry or thirsty you just go and get whatever pleases you the most and not dwell on it.

in the non-beliefs list, i’ve written obvious things like santa and the easter bunny (which isn’t common here in italy tbf but yeah) and sentences like “i can’t swim”, “i can’t draw”, “i can’t eat strawberries” and in between them also “i don’t fear shifting”. here, the point is that all these listed beliefs are stuff i know for a fact to be false: i can swim perfectly, i am an artist and i love strawberries + i’m not allergic to them or anything. by placing shifting there, i'm stating that just like i KNOW i can swim or whatever, i also KNOW i'm not scared of shifting.

you’re literally gaslighting your subconscious mind into believing what is real for a fact and what isn’t.

after writing down this list, which can be done on paper just like on your preferred device, i reread everything twice explaining to myself why i chose these things and why they are beliefs or not. that’s how i realised that shifting is easy. when people talk about it “clicking” they weren’t lying!

shifting isn’t special, this is what the list thing tries to prove you. it’s not special because, just like breathing and eating and reading, we do it subconsciously everyday. take your own first language: you speak it naturally without having to doubt it, and if you know a second language well enough like i know english for instance (my mother-tongue is italian) then you can even start talking to yourself and think in that language without having to search up translations.

what’s the difference with shifting then?

the difference is that shifting hasn’t been taught to us in the same way as a language has been, all throughout school. the same thing goes for reading and writing: we read and write naturally because we’ve been taught how to when we were young and it’s now engraved in our brains, just like with learning our first language, which is something we normally do thanks to our teachers, our families and the people around us, of course. this doesn’t happen with shifting in most cases, as we all know, which means it’s normal for it to take a bit to grasp as a concept and existing thing/activity. it’s natural, most of us human beings just don’t know about it, nor that we’re capable of doing it.

this is why i said it’s not special: just like breathing, everybody can do it (and so do you)!

going back to the non-beliefs list; i should also add that as a society we usually are taught what to believe in from a young age, and specifically what is believed to be a fantasy, a dream, or something real. as grown-ups, though, we have the right to believe in whatever we want, like shifting. as a realistic person, i understand that some people may have a hard time believing something as great as shifting could be true, because it genuinely doesn’t sound like it! so yes, this is also a factor that can and does make it harder for someone to trust their guts and expect to wake up somewhere that’s only fictional here.

shifting clicks for everybody at different times, but i hope this post will help some of you here understand it better and know that what more experienced shifters say always has a meaning, you just need the time to properly reflect on it to get it!

when it clicked for me a few hours ago i felt a huge rush of adrenaline and happiness bc yes, i can actually shift. i’m just overcomplicating it for no reason and so many of you are doing the same!

it’s okay though, we’ll all get there <3

(psa: if you saw any grammar mistakes or anything NO YOU DIDN'T and also please don't mind if this rant doesn't sound logical, i tried my best to explain myself like i wanted to 🥲)

[cheeseceli]

You speak another language

Pairing: Ot8!skz × Gn!Reader

Genre: fluff, reaction

Warnings: mention of food at Lee Know and Felix's, I think that's it?

Request: how do you think ot8 would react to the reader speaking in their native language? Especially if it's not korean/english?

A/n: It's embarrassing the amount of time I took to write this one💀 the worst part is that I actually spent every week tryna find the best way of putting all my ideas together. Hope you like it anyways!

Bang Chan

‌Would have a pet name for you in your mother tongue

‌ Like idk if you speak spanish his nickname for you would be "mi amor"

‌Finds it really attractive btw

‌When you're speaking your mother tongue he sees just how much comfortable you are

‌You literally shine in his eyes

‌He'd just be staring at you with heart eyes

‌And if you're learning Korean or English he'd be more than glad to help you overcome your difficulties with the language

‌Would be your personal professor fr

‌Speaks slower around you so you can understand everything, and wouldn't mind repeating himself at all

‌He knows that the language barrier can be a bit intimidating and that it can make you afraid of opening up completely

‌But he'd be so reassuring all the time

‌Really tries his best to comfort you when you need it and it doesn't matter the language, he makes is clear that he loves and will be with you all the time

Lee Know

‌If you had a hard time speaking Korean but still tried your best to communicate with him and his parents in Korean, he'd fall DEEP in love with you

‌He gives me major "I don't understand but I love you" vibes ngl

‌lmao he'd learn the bad words before anything else

‌If you're speaking your mother tongue when in the phone he'd try to guess what you're saying

‌Genuinely doesn't know what's going but he's invested

‌And he repeats some words after you say it

‌Not in a mocking way, he just finds it cool how the word sounds and keep repeating it to himself

‌Like if you speak french he'd be like "bonjour. Bonjour? Bonjour"

‌It's endearing

‌But yeah you'll have to translate everything to him later

‌He wants to know about the tea

‌Cooks your hometown dishes for you!!

Changbin

‌ If you have a foreign accent when speaking Korean or English he finds it adorable

‌ And he also finds your mother tongue adorable

‌ It doesn't matter if you speak one of the sexiest languages in the world

‌ This man finds it adorable

‌Eventually learns your language

‌He'll take classes, buy text books and everything

‌He truly believe that learning how to communicate with you (in every language for that matter) is like a "boyfriend duty"

‌So he'll be more than happy to learn

‌Tries to show his affection in ways that are not spoken as well so you both could surpass the language barrier

‌He'll get you flowers, gifts, would take you to amazing places, would have the best dates with you and everything you can ever think of

‌You'd have the best memories ever with him and no word would need to be said

Hyunjin

‌ Would ask you to teach him some pet names and sweet phrases in your language

‌ And would 100% say "I love you" in your mother tongue in certain moments

‌ Like in more intimate moments that he wants you to truly understand how much he loves you

‌ Would love if you replied with saying "I love you" in Korean

‌If you have a different accent than him when speaking Korean/English he might start speaking like you

‌yk when you get someone's accent just by living next to them

‌That's him

‌He finds it fancy

‌And when the boys tease him for this he might get shy but he's also so proud? Like "yeah I got it from my s/o :D"

‌Writes a letter to you once he finds confidence in speaking your language. It might have some mistakes here and there but it was so sweet, and the intention behind it was so lovely, that you couldn't help but tear up a bit when you read it for the first time

Han

‌Loves your culture so much

‌He'd ask you to show songs and movies and things like that in your language

‌Like if you're Indian he'd ask you to show him some Bollywood movies

‌He'd try to guess what they are saying and it's a whole game for him

‌He's there for the vibes honestly

‌But I think he'd end up learning a thing or two and later would like to learn the whole thing

‌Would incorporate your mother tongue in his songwriting I'm 100% sure

‌And!! would ask for songs recommendations so he could sing to you when you least expect it

‌Learns two words in your mother tongue, probably uses them in the wrong way, thinks he is fluent.

‌But he also knows a lot of slangs in your language, it's kinda surprising ngl

‌He'd occasionally drop a random slang in your language when talking to the kids and everyone would be like ???

‌"what did you say?"

Felix

‌ Learns your language to surprise you

‌ Like every time there is a break when he's practicing he'd open duolingo

‌(He'd have a hella long strike, 100 days in a row or smth)

‌When you're speaking on the phone with someone he tries to listen to it as a listening exercise

‌Is smiling to himself throughout the period of the call and when you ask the reason why he just brushes it off

‌Cooks your hometown dishes for you pt. 2!!

‌But seriously tho

‌He knows it's hard to be far from home, especially by yourself

‌So he really tries to make you feel at home

‌He will cook your nationals dishes, will sing songs in your language, will encourage you to speak in your mother tongue around him etc

‌:(

‌Also, 2 kids 1 room flashback

‌He likes to have meaningful conversations with you where he tells you how much he loves and appreciates you

‌Unlike Hyunjin, he'd say everything in English because it feels more genuine for him, as it's his first language

‌So if you're replying to him in your language, he'd feel SO happy

‌He thinks this is like a proof that everything you're saying comes from a deep place somehow. It makes him fall in love once again

Seungmin

‌ Wants to learn your language the moment you guys get in a serious relationship

‌ Besides wanting to be able to talk to you in your own comfort zone

‌He'd want to be able to talk to your friends and family who speaks your mother tongue

‌ Like the first time he sees your parents he'd be ready to talk to them

‌i'm so down bad for this man it's not even funny anymore

‌anyways

‌Would take you everywhere in Korea so he could show you a bit of his home (would tell stories about the places so excitedly)

‌And would love if he had the opportunity to go to your country

‌Would love it even more if you showed the place around to him and explained a bit about everything you know

‌If in the first stages of the relationship there is a language barrier, he'd plan dates that don't involve a lot of talking

‌Like he'd take you to concerts and karaokes

‌music is universal after all isn't it?

‌He always give his 100% into the relationship it's so cute

I.N

‌ Finds it really attractive pt2

‌ He loves your accent

‌ And he loves your mother tongue as well

‌ He could spend a whole day just listening to you speak, even if he doesn't understand a single word

‌ And if you're learning Korean, he'd love to see your progress and to see you getting more comfortable while speaking it

‌ I also see two possible scenarios:

‌ One, he'd wake up one day really determined to learn your language and wouldn't stop until he does

‌ Two, he'd never stop and actually learn it, but he'd end up catching up with some things you say and show to him. So in the end he'd know the basics and some essential phrases

‌I believe he'd genuinely enjoy to learn about your culture

‌Like, whenever a cultural shock comes up, he'd be invested in understanding it?

‌Of course sometimes there would be misunderstandings, but I truly think he would try to see the positive view rather than seeing only the cultural crash

‌He might even learn a thing or two and get your culture's habits

Feedback is very much appreciated!!

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[cordidy]

A few days ago I wrote this

https://www.tumblr.com/cordidy/769603546439172096/just-needed-to-get-this-out-of-my-head-after?

just because it was in my brain and I'm sooooo happy people liked it.

Here is the part two as demanded. I'm proud with how it came out and I hope you will love reading it as much as I loved writting it 😊

SPOILER for Sylus's Myth

TW : Alcohol, "lady of the night", sadness,

English is not my mother tongue BUT this time it was proofread by @thedeadstoryteller1 whom I love sooooo much for that.

“...Flowers bloom as far as the eye can see…”

“What did you say ?” You groaned, the familiar voice still in your ears as you opened an eye lazily, expecting an answer that never came.

Waking up felt like dying.

Spinning head, dizziness, whole body aching, clearly mistakes were made and atonement was due but God it still hurt.

Slowly opening your eyes as you tried to avoid the blinding light of the sun pouring into your room, you tried to recollect the events of last night…not very efficiently.

A quick look around.

You were alone in your room, not in a drunk tank and fully dressed indicating you did not do nor bring a mistake back home with you, thanks to your bodyguard.

Speaking of bodyguard, you found him in your kitchen, over the stove making ...pancakes ?

“So I did bring an ass…” you started in a tired and raspy voice as you made your way towards the counter before Sylus quickly gestured to his ear.

“I think I’ve been more than generous in my payment planning…”he said calmly while flipping a pancake in the pan as you grabbed a glass of water and some Tylenol before taking a seat, focusing your attention on him.

There was always something intrinsically fascinating when it came to him working. Most of the time you saw two types of Sylus, the asshole trying to get a rise out of you for his own entertainment (kind of cute honestly) or the combatant who would obliterate his enemies while using his Evol to throw things at you when fighting to “keep you on your toes” and because it was “fun”.

Seeing him do things as serious as negotiating a deal or doing his accounting reminded you he was not just a pain in your arse but also a very functioning person.

“Kieran, how many fingers does Mister Vaulric need to play the piano ?” He casually asked on the phone, making you choke on the water you were drinking.

Alright, a psychotic functioning adult…

Silence

He did not turn around when you threw a dishcloth at him, only lowering his head with a sigh.

“You have 1 more week. Increased loan interests, Kieran will handle the details” he finally said, setting the pancakes in a plate before putting them in front of you with a jar of jam, completely ignoring you and your gleaming eyes “Oh and I suggest you don’t leave the N109 Zone for now, we can’t guarantee your…safety…outside of it” he added before he ended the call and took a seat in front of you.

“Did you just threaten a guy in my kitchen ?” you asked, trying to sound casual but unable to hide the frown on your face. Yes you were friends with a criminal but you were still a law abiding citizen…

Besides, threats made with a lace apron sounded….weird.

“I don’t make threats , only warnings. Eat your pancakes” he retorted, casually sitting in front of you.

“I didn't expect to see you here ” you said while eating.

“Someone had to make sure you were alive after all the alcohol you drank last night”

Whoa, that was cold. You looked at him, uncomfortable.

“No I mean in the kitchen, knowing you, I half expected to wake up to you in my bed” you chuckled trying a bit of humor. Of course you trusted him, knowing he would never attempt anything if you could not or would not consent but…well, no harm in some banter right ?

The joke felt flat though as he remained silent.

“Sooooo no snarky comment about the way I look today with my hangover ? No making fun of me for my poor choices in life ? ” you asked him, trying to break the ice with a bit of teasing. Surely he wasn’t mad at you, was he ?

“Does your head hurt ?” he asked, still not looking at you, texting.

“Yeah ?” you answered your mouth full.

“Do you feel like an idiot for getting so shitfaced you don’t remember anything from last night ?”

You remained silent. 

Last night…clearly something happened last night.

Something bad judging by his attitude towards you. What...what did you do to deserve the cold shoulder from him of all people ? 

You were too slow to respond though as he was already getting up.

“Then the Universe already took care of it on my behalf” he simply said while putting his phone back in his pocket, clearly avoiding eye contact as he grabbed his jacket. “Drink water and take a nap” he added before leaving your apartment without even a goodbye.

Something was wrong.

“Hey, you did not really cut this guy's finger right ?” 

Clearly something was wrong between the two of you and it was starting to bug you.

“Everything alright ? No news for 2 weeks is soooo suss coming from you. Even your pigeon from Hell is not around“

That was the only explanation you had to the fact that Sylus had literally vanished from your life since that morning a month ago.

“Sylus, seriously I'm worried, you ok ?”

Then there was the issue of Luke and Kieran. 

1 month

1 FUCKING month without a call, without a text, without even a reaction on your Moments and the worst part ? It hurt !

At first you had figured he probably was busy with that Vaulric dude he had been talking to at your place and that’s why he did not answer your messages but a whole month just to deal with a loan gone late ?

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on but you….you’re not yourself lately…” Xavier said, leaving his boxing stance after you tripped while attacking him, barely avoiding falling face first on the ground thanks to your partner's quick reaction.

When you had not been able to reach Sylus, you turned to the twins for info, reassurance, a death certificate, anything to just know what was going on but still, nothing. You knew your messages were read by the pair so they had to be at least alive, but they remained unanswered.

This radio silence was starting to take a toll on you as reflected by your sleepless nights that turned you to a mess both physically and emotionally.

“I’m fine. Again !” you brushed off as the young man tried to get to the bottom of what was happening to you. While you had been the one insisting on sparring, hoping it would allow you to blow some steam off, you clearly were not at it and it was getting dangerous.

“No, I'm not fighting until you tell me what's happening !” 

You suppressed a frustrated growl.

Alright, if he wanted to be an easy target…

Next thing you knew, the easy target's fist met your nose as you tried a sneak attack and he reacted out of instinct, color draining from his face when he saw blood dripping from your nose.

“Fuck Y/n I'm sorry ! I…I didn't mean to !” 

This got you a week off duty and another scolding from your physician who had threatened to tie you up on a therapist's chair if you did not work on your current issues.

You didn’t need therapy, though, you needed answers and you were going to get them.

Kudos to Zayne for giving you the idea of tying Sylus up until he talked if need be.

Clearly you were not expected.

You didn’t know what to expect when you pushed Sylus’s office door open that night. Your nose was still puffy, wicks still in one of your nostrils, blood all over your shirt but you did not care what you looked like right now.

You wanted answers and he was going to give them to you, as soon as the stunning woman sitting on his desk, half naked, her long silver hair cascading her back, would be gone.

“I…”

There he was, sitting casually, his shirt half open, engrossed in conversation and your blood ran cold into your veins as the woman leaned towards Sylus to refill his glass with a giggle.

Based on his look, it was not the first…The sound of your voice got his attention though, and, for a split second, you saw shock in his eyes before the mask was up again.

Something you did not like.

“Oooooh, you invited a friend ? The more the merrier I guess but…I charge more for this kind of…fun…” the hooker cooed, playing with Sylus’s hair. “No offence sweety, women are just not my…first choice” she added, smiling at you.

Technically, he didn’t owe you anything. You were friends, nothing more, despite the constant flirting, the glances, the brushing of his hands…yet, seeing him with another woman stirred something inside of you. 

Maybe it was just the global exhaustion you were into but you felt a surge of…possessiveness towards him and you had to refrain yourself from jumping at the young woman in order to not claw her eyes out.

Seeing you hurt, Sylus, your Sylus anyway, would already be on you, checking your nose, getting the twins to bring you clean clothes while pestering you about the how ? When ? why ? and especially who’s teeth he needed to remove for doing that to you but all you got from the man in front of was a laconic “what happened to your nose ?” as he grabbed his glass, barely looking at you, focusing his attention on the young woman.

Part of you wanted to jump at him and hold him tight as you saw he was alive and well but at the same time you wanted to smash his head on the fucking mahogany desk for giving you the cold shoulder.

“What are you doing here ?”

“What I…” yeah, the head smashing was definitely an option as you walked towards him, trying to remain calm. “I came to see you since you decided to avoid me like the Plague lately” you said coldly.

“Leave us” he commanded the woman who didn't need to be told twice. 

She still seemed disappointed as she passed you before grabbing some cash on the coffee table, understanding the party was over. “Well, you saw me”

He remained silent and it made your blood boil with anger. 

“So this is what you’ve been doing for the past month ?” you asked, dumbfounded.

"As far as I can remember, what I do in my free time is none of your business” he pointed out in the same laconic tone.

“Alright…what did I do ? Ever since that night you brought me back home you've been avoiding me !”

You couldn’t bear his attitude towards you, the way he had left the situation fester and rot between you two.

“Don't…” he warned you.

So something did happen and, since you couldn’t remember a thing, you could only rely on him…

“What ? What happened ?! Did you try something ?” 

Deep down you knew it was not that. You trusted him and you knew he would never take advantage of the situation, hence why you called him but maybe…

“You tried something, I pushed you away and you didn't like that…”

…maybe provoking him…

“I think you should leave Y/n” he said in a straight tone, still avoiding your eyes and that's when you snapped.

“LOOK AT ME YOU FUCKING PRICK !” you yelled at him, losing control of your emotions, finally getting a reaction from him as he was not used to being bossed around or insulted. 

That’s when he saw them.

The tears you’ve been keeping up for the past month.

Neither of you could tell if they were tears of sadness, of frustration or of rage but right now, as you looked at him with so much anger and hate and…heartbreak, you were terrifying.

Breathtaking.

A vision for sore eyes that stirred something in him…

Truly and utterly terrified of the man you had been trusting with your life only a month ago.

“A month Sylus…A month without a word ! without a call, without a sign of life ! Do you have any idea how worried I was ?! I thought you were…you were…” you couldn’t say the words, couldn’t admit how the mere thought of it terrified you.

“What ? Dead ?” He let out a resentful  chuckle before taking a sip of whiskey “...you made sure this was never an option for me…” and the bitterness of words hit you like a tone of brick.

“You know…You’re good at that little game of yours” he added casually, finally rising from his chair, making his way towards you “I actually believed in that little…amnesia game…”

“What are you talking about ?” you asked, but he did not listen, too focused on his own train of thoughts.

“...But stupid people say stupid things when they get drunk…” he continued, puzzling you even more “What I don’t get though, is the why” he pondered like he was looking for the answer to a complex riddle.

“Please expla…” you started, confusion replacing the anger.

“STOP WITH THE BULLSHIT !” he yelled back, throwing his glass against the wall and, for the first time, you were scared of him. 

It didn’t take being a genius to know that, between brute strength and his Evol, you were no match if things were to go south. 

“I did everything you asked…” he started, getting closer as you slowly backed away, shaking.

“Sylus you're scaring me…” you said in a genuine tone, fear replacing anger.

“You're noisy…”

That voice again…his voice…

“We set the Sanctuary ablaze…”

“...Fulfilled all of your mortal desirs…” his words dripped…hatred.

He was obviously drunk.

And dangerous.

“Stay back” you warned him, looking for the gun at your belt before aiming at him. Not that it would be of any use anyway but it could eventually buy you time.

“...3 chances..”

“You remind me of a young…”

“I WILL shoot you if you don't back the fuck away Sy !” you warned him but he didn’t stop and you couldn’t bring yourself to shoot.

Your head started to spin as he kept getting closer, your hand shaking, your will faltering as the smell of smoke filled your nose.

Smoke ? What smoke ? What Sanctuary ?

Just like in those nightmares plaguing your nights ever since Sylus and you Resonated…

“We bathed in the blood of your enemies and danced on the corpses of those who wronged you…” 

You could hear it, the screams of terror as fire drowned the city and you laughed in bliss, strong hands laced around you

“Are you satisfied, Beloved ?” 

“Sylus I don’t feel alright…” you whispered as you started to stumble, feeling the familiar sensation of a new Resonnance which didn’t make sense as resonating with him was a tedious process.

It could not happen just like that…could it ?

You were having a hard time focusing on him and his image started to shift ? Almost as if reality was...glitching...and you needed to close your eyes from the dizziness.

When you opened them again, his head was pressed against your gun.

 “Don’t know where to aim ? I can tell you…” he said and the way his eyes darkened was a striking contrast with the tenderness he used to caress your cheek and you couldn’t help but lean into his palm, like you were not holding a gun at his face.

“Only the fiend's archnemesis can kill it…” he whispers with pleading eyes.

“...My dragon is…here”

“Sylus…”

“I curse your soul” 

The words spilled out of your mouth…echoes from a buried past…

“Why Beloved ?” he asked in a broken voice, clearly lost in his own thoughts , closing his eyes as tears poured down your cheeks while you were unable to steady your hand.

“I curse your soul…to never fade away”

“Why would you do this to me ?” He asked, dropping to his knees, abandoning all pride as he laid his heart bare to you.

“You'll always be tied to me, forever”

“Why would you pretend we are not one ?” 

“Only I can grant you a true death”

“I just want you back…Please come back to me…” he pleaded, ready to give you his life if you asked him. 

Again

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[onlymingyus]

Fatal Trouble (teaser)

pairing; lee jihoon x f!reader 

genre; fantasy, heavy angst, mild horror, slow burn, smut (minor dni), toxic, fluff 

summary; where others would steal, bargain, or kill to live the life that jihoon had, he knew the truth. a charmed life was often a cursed one. 

content warnings; prince!jihoon, princess!reader, both the reader and jihoon’s parents are mentioned/in the fic, duke!mingyu, mild love triangle, jealousy, based on the beauty and the beast, beast!jihoon, some ideas have been borrowed from damsel, royalty au, time period not stated but not modern, curses, pregnancy/miscarriage scares, blood, mauling, murder/death, loss of parent(s), arranged marriage, crying, arguing, mental struggles, vivid descriptions of wounds/shifting, poor use of french, especially old french (i apologize). I am sure there are more—this is a very heavy fic. if there is anything glaring I missed, message me. (patreon will have additional warnings)

smut warnings; multiple smut scenes, virgin!reader, mild Dom/sub themes, dubcon leaning noncon briefly, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f recieving), handjob, pet names, crying (pleasure and not) — as always I’m sure I’m missing something, send me a message if it’s glaring. (patreon will have additional warnings)

w/c; 47k and some change (50k~ with patreon bonus)

once upon a time collab masterlist 

fatal trouble - enhypen 

a/n; thank you to @nothoughtsjustfic for putting together this collab. this has been a lot of fun and incredibly challenging all at the same time. also a huge thank you to @junkissed for proofreading this beast (pun intended). I know you are incredibly busy and you still managed to carve out a little time for me, I appreciate it more than you know. 

French word bank: Monseigneur - title for prince, Madame - title female royalty (queen/princess), Madame La Reine - title for queen, Monsieur - title male royalty (duke), Maman - mother, Mon fils - son, Mon amor- my love, Mon ange - my angel

this fic will be released 1/15 to read the full fic with the bonus now subscribe to my patreon and click here

You had always been told that dream weddings were made for princesses. So why was it on your own wedding day that you didn’t feel like it was your own wedding? You were in your dress, your flowers in your hand, as you stood next to your father in front of the large church doors, listening to the beautiful music, but it was as if you were watching someone else get married. 

“Ready, honey?” 

Had you said yes? You couldn’t remember, but it didn’t matter. You were putting on a smile and avoiding the eyes of everyone as you walked down the aisle, just attempting not to trip. One, two, three, four, five, six—by the time you reached the front of the church, you had counted 79 flower petals that had been dropped by one of your youngest cousins. They were very pretty petals. What did petals lining a wedding aisle mean again? Luck? Fertility? Transformation? A bond between families? 

“My wife and I.” 

Your father was speaking and offering your hand to someone else. You were getting married. Lifting your eyes, you meet Jihoon’s feeling, and your heart starts to beat frantically as it all seems to set in for you. The air settles around you and his hands on yours ground you bringing you back to reality. 

“You okay?” 

What did he want you to say? You could barely find words to speak so instead you smile and nod, watching him do the same as the priest continues the ceremony. You find yourself transfixed on the man in front of you, every piece of hair in place, his handsome smile, and his beautiful brown eyes. 

“Yes, I do.” 

He does? What does he—- 

“Madame Y/N Y/L/N of Thornwood, do you take this man, Monseigneur Lee Jihoon, to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

The room had become deathly silent. You could hear a pin drop as they waited for your answer and all you could truly hear was your heart and unsteady breath as Jihoon kept his eyes on you. The words sit on the tip of your tongue until Jihoon’s fingers gently squeeze yours, giving you the confidence you need to continue and gaining a happy whispered cheer from the audience watching. 

“Ye—yes, I do.” 

Blowing out a breath, playfully. Jihoon smiles when you finally do speak, feeling the tension release from your fingers. You were nervous and that was making him even more nervous. You seemed like you were in another world until he finally brought you back and now that he had you and the priest was delivering the last of his lines, Jihoon felt like he could either throw up or like his chest could explode from being overwhelmed. 

“I now pronounce you man and wife. Monseigneur, you may kiss your bride.” 

His bride. His. He had never kissed you before, no more than the back of your knuckles but that hadn’t meant that he hadn’t thought about it or dreamt of it. Swallowing hard, Jihoon nods and takes one hand from yours to cup your jaw gingerly as he leans forward, his lips resting mere centimeters from yours, letting you decide to do the rest. 

Why had he stopped? Whining under your breath, feeling Jihoon’s breath against your lips, you furrow your brows and close the distance, pressing your lips against his for the first time hearing the audience burst into a loud cheer seeing the first kiss shared by a husband and wife. You had shared a kiss with Mingyu before; it had been small, just his lips brushing against yours before you had pulled away, but this was different. You could feel Jihoon smile against your lips. You could almost taste him before he pulled away, leaving you breathless and stunned at the alter next to him. 

It shouldn’t surprise you or Jihoon that the rest of the reception would be a whirlwind of well wishes and unsolicited advice. You find that once again your only saving grace is the man standing beside you, his hand linked with yours and his thumb rubbing small circles on the inside of your wrist as he carries most of the conversations. 

“Mm, no. We won’t be going anywhere. We have the coronation set for the middle of next week and there is so much to be done here. I will enjoy my bride at home. I’m hoping to spend as much time with her as possible.” 

You find yourself wondering how much of Jihoon’s words are true. Would he spend extra time with you? What would tonight be like? The idea of your wedding night has your stomach in knots and Jihoon tugging you tighter to his side, feeling your fingers closing around his. 

“I—mm, no, thank you. We’re fine. Really, we won’t travel often. If Y/N wants to travel—” 

Why wouldn’t Jihoon travel? That had come up time and time again. He was ready to send you back home to visit your parents. You two would be going nowhere after your wedding and now he was offering to let you travel without him? Furrowing your brows, you look up at your husband finally meeting his eyes, making him laugh a bit awkwardly and excuse you both as he grabs two glasses of champagne, leading you towards one of the windows, letting you rest against the sill. 

“This is exhausting. Are you alright?” 

Gladly accepting the glass, you hum between sips before tilting your head and looking out over the crowd that was luckily getting smaller as the afternoon crept by. “Fine. Ready to be alone. This is just overwhelming.” 

Nodding into his own glass, Jihoon lets his eyes move around the room before they land on Mingyu, who nods in acknowledgement before looking away. He was ready for everyone to leave as well, ready for them to go back to where they belonged—especially Kim Mingyu. “It’ll be done soon and you can head to bed.” 

Pausing mid-drink, you glance up at Jihoon before lowering your glass. "Oh, and should I—” Taking a deep breath, you close your eyes, turning your head away, feeling awkward and uncertain about how to continue without sounding desperate. “Should I expect anyone to join me?” 

Jihoon had taken a drink and swallowed half of it when you finally got your words out. He wasn’t sure what he had expected, but it wasn’t that. He hadn’t meant to react the way he had, but being caught off guard and feeling the champagne take a sudden wrong turn, Jihoon finds himself coughing as he tries to calm himself down and avoid your eyes and others as they look at him concerned. “I’m fine… I—” Tilting his head and clearing his throat, Jihoon holds up his hand, keeping others from approaching him or you as he repeats that he doesn’t need help. “I’m fine, I promise.” 

“Was my question that shocking?” 

Jihoon watches your lips quiver slightly, only for you to hide your emotions by taking a sip of the drink in your hand. “No—I, yes. I won’t lie, yes, but also it shouldn’t have been. Y/N, I’m not meaning to upset you.” 

Shaking your head, you clear your throat, feeling your cheeks flair with warmth from embarrassment. You were such a fool for even considering that Jihoon would come to your room or want you like that even if you were his wife. “I’m not upset. I’m tired. I’m going to go ahead and call it an evening. Say goodbye to the guests, Jihoon.” Stepping away from him, you meet his eyes, feeling his fingers trail over yours. “And get a wonderful night’s sleep.” 

Pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers, Jihoon groans in frustration at you and mostly himself as the door closes behind you, leaving him alone with the guests in the dining hall at the wedding reception. He had once again messed up and was left to clean up the mess. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to see you or be with you, but tonight was going to be a bad night. 

Some nights Jihoon couldn’t tell when he was going to shift, and others like tonight he could feel it from a mile away. Every inch of his body felt like it was on fire and the rumbling in his ears had been loud from the moment he had gotten up. He had barely made it through the wedding on sheer will, but now you had left him to the lions, and one in particular looked overly amused. 

Working his way through the remaining guests, bidding them a goodnight and explaining you had needed to go lay down with a headache, Jihoon felt his own headache growing with every single lie he told. It wasn’t until Mingyu had given him one more smirk and sipped at his whiskey that Jihoon cracked. “Something on your mind, Mingyu?” 

“Of course not, Monseigneur. Just awaiting my turn to give my well wishes to the beautiful couple before I retire for the night, but—oh, where is your bride, Monseigneur?” 

He was playing with fire and clearly drunk. Laughing under his breath, Jihoon nods and wipes his finger under his nose, moving closer to Mingyu. He could feel a subtle shift in the air, not realizing his eyes had already shifted in color from brown to gold. “Waiting for me in bed, like a good wife. Where she belongs.” 

Mingyu’s smile falters not only at Jihoon’s words but also at the change in his tone and the difference in Jihoon’s eye color. “Yeah, that so? She didn’t seem very happy earlier. So I figured you wouldn’t be satisfying her on her wedding night. Or at least that’s what her face was saying. I know her pretty well, you see.” 

Scoffing, Jihoon digs his nails into his palm, taking a step towards Mingyu, who doesn’t budge. “Do you know her pretty well? How well? Careful with your next words...” 

He had no reason to be afraid of Jihoon, and yet the air around Jihoon was causing Mingyu’s hair to stand on end. He could feel his heart rate starting to rise as he realized that the only people left in the room beside himself and Jihoon were servants. “I—yeah, I know—” 

“Monseigneur! It’s time for a night walk.” 

Time had gotten away from Soonyoung during the festivities. He hadn’t realized how dark it had gotten until he had seen Jihoon backing the larger man against a wall and he knew that could only mean one thing: Jihoon was shifting. “Apologies for taking away the monseigneur, but routines. Have a goodnight, Monsieur.” 

Left speechless, Mingyu is only able to take a full breath once Jihoon is ushered away from him and out the doors. “What the fuck—” His heart was slowly starting to calm down and the sense of danger seemed to dissipate the longer that he was away from Jihoon. There was something wrong with everything that had just happened. He was twice the size of Jihoon in most ways and yet the man had him almost trembling for a moment and quickly sobering up. Now the prince was going for a night walk? Where? You weren’t allowed to go out at night. That was one of the things you had told Mingyu. Now he was even more curious as to why. 

Guiding Jihoon towards the gates, Soonyoung grimaces, hearing the sounds of flesh starting to rip. This was closer than he wanted to be to a shift. It was dangerous and he had scars that he already bore from Jihoon and close calls. 

“Get away from me!” 

Trembling from the pain and fear of shifting, Jihoon growls out the words, glancing back at Soonyoung as he slams the gates shut in front of him, sealing him out for the night. The painful groaning roar that escapes Jihoon next almost breaks Soonyoung’s heart as he turns on his heels and runs back towards the palace, not seeing Mingyu lingering in the shadows near the gates watching Jihoon stumble and fall as he shifts into the beast. 

“Fuck—” There aren’t words to explain what Mingyu feels or the terror for you that runs through him as he watches the bear’s claws dig into the dirt as it runs for the forest snarling. There was no way he was going to let you stay here with that thing. He’d kill it before he’d let it hurt you. Without much thought, Mingyu heads back towards the palace and to his room to grab his knife before sneaking back out towards the forest in search of Jihoon, determined that only one of them would come back for you in the morning.

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[monstersholygrail]

A monster boyfriend would be fantastic.... Can you imagine him coming to your defense when you have a toxic parent? I'm on the obese side but very short. Last night......a parent called me lazy and fat....despite my efforts t olose weight for health reasons. Now, I feel too scared to eat.

I cried so hard, and wish I had some intimidating boyfriend that would've made my mom shut up and come to my defense. Also, I feel like monsters would not care so much about human standards of beauty. (Even at my healthiest weight, I wasn't like stick thin)

Oh, hunny, I feel you. I’m in the same boat. I’m so sorry you went through that. You are absolutely beautiful the way you are. Do what you need for your health but know that being skinny doesn’t equal being healthy. Please eat, love, because making sure you’re eating all your meals is a part of health. I know that a monster would love you no matter what and would embrace you entirely.

I’ve been through a similar experience and I know I would’ve loved to read something to comfort me so I hope this can comfort you <3

Perfection to Me

Monster bf x chubby fem!reader - tw fatphobia, toxic parent[ing], hurt/comfort, protective bf, body worshipping, multiple orgasms, creampie

You had been so excited. You had recently gotten your very first boyfriend and you were so excited to introduce him to your family and friends.

Of course, all of your friends had been a bit surprised when they first met and they were faced with a huge and intimidating monster. But in reality, your monster bf was the sweetest man you had ever met. He was protective and he cared for you more than you ever could’ve imagined.

And he proved it to you time and time again how seriously he took your courtship. How deeply he considered you already to be his mate. Not shying away from using the term regularly.

All of this just drove your excitement to the point where you couldn’t wait to introduce him to your mother. To show her you’d finally found someone.

That excitement slowly dwindled. More and more as the night went on. It had all been going so well. Your mother greeted your monster bf with delight. Clearly happy, if not surprised, by his presence. It was easily overlooked.

But then the comments started. Snide in-passing comments. Comments about your relationship, your weight, and worst of all your eats habits.

You focus on staring down at the table, trying to keep your tears at bay. Having been so used to swallowing down these comments without a retort. Luckily your monster bf isn’t.

A loud slamming of fists rattles the dinner table, causing you to look at your bf with a sharp gasp. From the corner of your eye you can see your mother do the same.

“Who do you think you are?” Your bf snaps, his hands clenched. Only barely holding back his simmering rage.

Word after word he had been tortured by your mother’s lashing tongue. He had no idea how you must be feeling. But after seeing the tears in your eyes he could no longer sit back and take it.

“Excuse me?” Your mother asks, eyes wide and partially frightened by the aura which radiated from your monster bf.

“Was I not clear?! Who do you think you are to be speaking to my mate like that?” He questions, standing up. Only making his form that much more intimidating to witness. Not willing to listen to any bullshit from your mother.

“Well, I.. I am her mother!” Your mother replies weakly, visibly shrinking back in her chair.

“I have known mothers that eat their young who are kinder than you,” your bf lashes out, claws sinking into his own skin. You wince seeing it, your worry for him growing. Not wanting him to hurt himself because of her.

“How dare you!” Your mother shrieks, hand clutching her chest.

“Baby, plea-“

“No!” Your bf snarls, head whipping to face you, and stopping the excuse from leaving your lips. His arm joining it to stop you from reaching for him.

But as his eyes meet yours, they immediately soften. He leans down, licking and nuzzling into your cheek in a silent apology.

“I will not stand idly by and watch as an insignificant disrespects you,” his voice rumbles into your skin as he moves down to your neck, scenting you. Marking you as his to care for now.

“Insignificant!”

Monster bf tenses hearing your mother’s voice again. Returning to his full height he glowers down at her.

“It is a mother’s job to nurture and protect,” he states simply, making his opinion of her treatment of you quite clear.

“I am protecting her! Protecting her from herself and from everyone out there,” your mother finally snaps. Standing up from the table even in the face of your bf.

Your bf bristles, needing to pause for a moment. Ensuring he doesn’t lose control of himself. After a silent beat he slowly walks around the table and towers over her.

“In this moment you are a far greater enemy to her than anything she will face out in the world…”

You watch as his words sink in. Your mother’s face growing pale and her mouth finally staying closed.

When he’s sure she won’t try and reply, your monster bf moves around her, heading back to you. He holds out his hand which you take without hesitation. Your heart nearly beating out of your chest.

It’s only when your bf immediately reaches with his free hand to wipe softly at your cheeks do you realize you had been crying.

“Come, sweet mate. I think it’s time we leave,” he says lowly as he gathers you up in his arms. You don’t even think about resisting, just letting your bf swiftly lead you out of the home.

You could tell your monster bf was angry. He was furious. And it showed in the way he ravishes you the moment you two get home.

As soon as the door closes behind you he’s plucking you up from the floor with ease and throwing your body gently down on the bed. Endless praises leave his lips, clearly setting out to replace every mean word your mother had uttered throughout the night.

He peels your clothes off slowly, despite the fact he was practically shaking with his restraint. Revealing your beautiful big body inch by inch. As soon as you are bare he pounces on you, showing how much he treasures every curve of your body.

His face nuzzles into your thick neck as he grinds his cock against your pussy lips, all while telling you how hard you make him. Not stopping until you come apart, dousing his length with your essence.

He makes sure to take care of every inch of you. Moving down to latch onto your nipples. Sucking and massaging at your supple flesh until you gush all over the sheets from the toe-curling stimulation. Your body spent but your monster bf not having finished with you, evident by the feral glint in his eye.

Taking his time, setting his own aching need aside, to slowly kiss down the curve of your stomach. His claws digging into your sides and loving how you fill up his hands.

Though his hands suddenly have a far better use as they spread your meaty thighs for him. He dives right in, stuffing his face into your fat pussy and completely smothering himself in your folds. His tongue devouring you like you’re the only thing he’ll ever want to eat again.

Fingers joining soon after, needing to fill you up even deeper as his tongue laps up your essence. His hand and mouth work in total sync till your body is shaking with the need to cum. His mouth sucks greedily at your clit while his fingers curl along your walls. As soon as he finds that sweet spot within you, you’re erupting all over his tongue. White dots briefly clouding your vision from the intensity.

Monster bf barely gives you a moment to breathe as he rises onto his knees, that look in his eyes only growing darker with each orgasm that overtakes you. His eyes rake over your limp form.

“You are perfection,” he breathes out before finally sinking into your tight cunt. You both moan as your bodies connect, your back arching as you show off that body that’s so beautiful to him.

He can’t hold back any longer as he furiously fucks his cock into you, bodies slapping together in perfect harmony. Growls and deep rumbling noises escaping him as your body brings him a pleasure he’s never otherwise experienced.

Together you two bring each other to orgasm after orgasm, never getting enough of each other. It’s not until neither of you can physically not move that you take a break.

“You hungry, love?” He asks as you two lay back on the bed, limbs completely wrapped around each other.

“Hmm, no. Not really,” you reply quietly, your appetite not quite having returned after dinner was interrupted. Monster bf senses this, his lip quivering as he visibly holds back a growl.

“Well, what if we change the venue, huh? You can eat off of me,” he suggests, a lighthearted smugness moving across his features. His free arm moving to rest behind his head while the other keeps a firm grip on you.

“Oh, well that changes things then,” you say through your laughter. Your bfs smugness grows as he shifts down and spreads out across the bed. Showing off his body to you. A body that’s goal is to give you more pleasure than you could dream of.

“Yeah, it does. You can eat a fucking feast off of me…” your bf says with a grin, all in order to bring more of that sweet laughter out of you. To have it tickle his senses. He’d do anything to make you laugh. He leans down and nibbles at your neck, causing you to giggle lightly. That’s it. “And that’s exactly what I plan to have you do.”

Monster bf doesn’t given you any time to respond before he’s back to kissing the daylights out of you.

[rue-isabelle]

Hi darling. Could I please request a girlfriend x reader story where Rebecca meets Carlos little sister and falls in love with her. She like kisses her and tells her everything is fine. Like, it is a bit dark. Could reader also be younger and a ballet dancer? Thank you

Dark Story!

Love my boyfriend’s sister

The Sainz family home was bustling with the warmth and love that came with a rare evening spent together. The comforting aroma of Carlos’ cooking wafted through the air as his father read a newspaper on the couch, his mother Reyes busily wrapping her youngest daughter’s feet in bandages, and Blanca chattered animatedly about her day.

“You know, mamá,” Blanca teased, leaning on the back of the couch. “She’s probably going to dance until her feet fall off one day.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” Reyes said, clicking her tongue. She dabbed a bit of ointment onto the raw patches of Yn’s feet, her expression a mixture of pride and concern. “She already pushes herself too hard. Mira, niña, you don’t have to be perfect every single time.”

Yn winced slightly at the sting of the ointment but smiled at her mother. “I’m not trying to be perfect, mamá. I just love it, that’s all. Besides, you know I can’t leave a rehearsal unfinished.”

Her father chimed in from the couch, setting down his newspaper. “We all admire your dedication, mi niña, but you’re still human. Even ballerinas need to rest.”

“Exactly!” Blanca cut in. “Why do you think Carlos is always stuffing you full of food? You’re going to waste away otherwise.”

Yn rolled her eyes but couldn’t suppress a small laugh. “I think Carlos just likes an excuse to cook. He thinks he’s a chef now.”

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway interrupted their conversation, followed by the slam of a car door.

“Speaking of Carlos,” Reyes said, tying off the bandage and patting Yn’s knee. “He’s home. Finally, we can eat.”

Carlos walked in a moment later, balancing a couple of containers in his hands. His dark hair was slightly windswept, and a grin stretched across his face. “I hope you’re all hungry. I made enough to feed an army.”

“Like always,” Blanca joked as she hopped off the couch to grab the bags from her brother.

“Wait,” Carlos said, holding up a hand. “Before you all start eating without me, I brought someone to meet you.” He stepped aside, revealing a woman standing shyly in the doorway.

“This is Rebecca,” Carlos introduced. “She’s… well, she’s my girlfriend.”

The room went silent for a moment, and then Reyes rose to her feet, smoothing her hands down her apron. “Carlos, you didn’t say anything about bringing a guest, but it’s lovely to meet you, Rebecca.”

Rebecca smiled warmly. “Thank you so much for having me, Mrs. Sainz. I hope I’m not imposing.”

“Nonsense,” Reyes replied, gesturing her inside. “Come, come, sit. Any guest of Carlos is a guest of ours. Yn, make room.”

Yn, who had been sitting cross-legged on the couch, quickly shuffled over to make space. “Hi,” she said softly, offering Rebecca a shy smile. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“And you as well,” Rebecca replied, her gaze lingering on Yn for just a moment longer than necessary. Yn’s delicate features, framed by her slightly messy bun, caught Rebecca off guard. There was something so ethereal about her, like she was a ballerina even offstage.

Blanca, always the outgoing one, quickly pulled Rebecca into the fold of conversation. “So, Rebecca, how did you meet Carlos? Please tell me it was something romantic.”

“Blanca!” Carlos groaned, setting the food containers on the dining table.

Rebecca chuckled, settling into the couch beside Yn. “Well, not exactly romantic. We met through mutual friends, and he invited me to one of his races. I guess we just… clicked after that.”

As the family talked and laughed, Yn sat quietly, content to listen. Rebecca, however, found herself stealing glances at Yn. The younger woman had a quiet, almost magnetic presence. She wasn’t flashy or loud like Carlos, but there was a grace to her that Rebecca found utterly captivating.

When dinner was served, Carlos made sure to pile an extra helping of food onto Yn’s plate.

“Carlos, I can’t eat all of this!” Yn protested.

“You can and you will,” Carlos insisted. “You’re too thin. Do you even eat at the studio?”

“I eat enough,” Yn mumbled, but she didn’t argue further, knowing it was a battle she’d lose.

Rebecca watched the exchange with a smile. “You’re a ballerina, right?” she asked Yn.

Yn nodded, swallowing a bite of food. “Yes. I train almost every evening.”

“That’s incredible,” Rebecca said. “I’ve always admired dancers. It’s such a beautiful art form. Do you perform often?”

“Not as much as I’d like,” Yn admitted. “Most of my time is spent training or rehearsing, but it’s worth it when I get to be on stage.”

As Yn spoke about ballet, her face lit up, and Rebecca found herself hanging on every word. There was a passion in Yn’s voice that was infectious, and Rebecca couldn’t help but think how unfair it was for someone to be so talented and so… beautiful.

The evening wore on, and as the family grew more comfortable with Rebecca, she felt increasingly out of place. Not because they were unkind—they were wonderful, warm people—but because she couldn’t stop noticing Yn. The way her smile curved just slightly to the left, the way she absentmindedly brushed a strand of hair behind her ear, the way she moved with a dancer’s grace even when she was just sitting at the table.

Later, as the family said their goodnights and Carlos prepared to drive Rebecca home, she found herself lingering by the door, glancing back at Yn one last time.

“Thank you for having me,” Rebecca said, directing her words to the whole family but looking directly at Yn. “It was lovely to meet you all.”

“Come back anytime,” Reyes said warmly, while Yn gave a small wave. “Goodnight.”

As Carlos led Rebecca out to the car, he grinned at her. “So, what did you think?”

Rebecca hesitated for a moment, her thoughts swirling. “Your family is wonderful, Carlos,” she said finally, though the image of Yn’s shy smile lingered in her mind.

And as they drove off into the night, Rebecca couldn’t shake the feeling that she was leaving something—or someone—very important behind.

Over the following months, Rebecca became a regular presence in the Sainz household.

She seemed to have slotted into their lives effortlessly, joining them for dinners, outings, and family activities. To Carlos, it was a dream come true—his girlfriend got along with his family like she’d always been a part of it. To Rebecca, it was the perfect excuse to spend more time with Yn.

The friendship between the two young women had grown naturally—or so it seemed. Rebecca would casually suggest little outings, always under the guise of wanting to bond with her boyfriend’s younger sister.

“Yn, I need you to come with me,” Rebecca said one afternoon, leaning against the doorframe of Yn’s room.

Yn looked up from her book, eyebrows raised in curiosity. “What for?”

“Shopping,” Rebecca said with a grin. “You have to help me pick out something for Carlos. You’re the only one who knows what he likes better than me.”

Yn laughed and closed her book. “I doubt that, but okay. Let me grab my shoes.”

At first, the outings were simple and innocent—shopping trips, movie nights, or getting their nails done. Yn appreciated having someone to share her free time with, especially since her schedule was often consumed by ballet.

Rebecca, however, saw it differently. Every smile Yn gave her, every laugh they shared, felt like a step closer to something forbidden. Rebecca began to crave Yn’s attention, finding excuses to be near her or to touch her.

“Your hair is so soft,” Rebecca commented one day as they sat on Yn’s bed, going through a stack of photos from Yn’s last performance. Rebecca reached out, brushing a strand of Yn’s hair behind her ear.

Yn blinked in surprise but smiled. “Thanks. It’s a mess after rehearsals, though. I’m always sweaty and gross.”

Rebecca shook her head. “I don’t believe that for a second. You’re always beautiful.”

Yn flushed slightly, laughing off the compliment. “You’re exaggerating.”

But Rebecca wasn’t. To her, Yn was radiant—her innocence, her passion, her delicate beauty. Everything about her drew Rebecca in like a moth to a flame.

As their bond deepened, Rebecca grew bolder. She began to find reasons to touch Yn—a hand on her back as they walked, holding her hand during movies, even kissing her cheek when they were alone.

Yn, in her naivety, thought nothing of it. She assumed this was how close friends—or maybe even sisters—acted.

One summer afternoon, the family gathered in the garden for a lazy, sun-drenched day. Carlos was manning the grill with their father, while Blanca and Reyes were sitting at a table nearby, chatting and sipping iced drinks. Yn and Rebecca were in the pool, splashing around in the cool water.

“Come on, Yn!” Rebecca called, swimming toward her. “You’re not tired already, are you?”

Yn laughed, leaning against the edge of the pool. “I might be. I had rehearsal this morning, remember?”

Rebecca swam closer, her eyes sparkling with mischief. “You work too hard. Come here, I’ll help you out.”

Before Yn could protest, Rebecca was hoisting her up, her strong hands gripping Yn’s waist. “Wrap your legs around me,” Rebecca instructed.

Yn hesitated for a moment, but Rebecca’s firm grip made her feel secure. She wrapped her legs around Rebecca’s waist and looped her arms around her neck.

“There we go,” Rebecca said, her voice soft, almost intimate. Her hands moved to Yn’s thighs, steadying her. “See? I’ve got you.”

Yn rested her head on Rebecca’s shoulder, feeling the warmth of the sun on her back. “Thanks, Rebecca. You’re always so nice to me.”

Rebecca’s heart raced at the closeness, the feel of Yn’s body pressed against hers, particularly Yn's soft, round breast. Her hands slid down slightly, brushing against Yn’s ass. She gave a gentle squeeze, her fingers trailing lower.

Yn didn’t seem to notice. She giggled softly, her head still resting on Rebecca’s shoulder. “You’re really strong.”

Rebecca smiled, her voice low. “Anything for you, Yn.”

From the patio, Carlos glanced over at the pool. “Rebecca, is Yn okay?”

Rebecca turned her head slightly, giving him a reassuring smile. “She’s fine. Just tired from rehearsal. I’m keeping her from sinking.”

Blanca laughed. “Our little ballerina always needs someone to catch her when she’s overworked.”

Reyes shook her head fondly. “That girl pushes herself too hard. Thank you for looking after her, Rebecca.”

Rebecca turned her attention back to Yn, her fingers still lingering on the younger girl’s ass. “It’s no trouble at all,” she said softly, her words meant for Yn alone.

Yn lifted her head, smiling brightly at Rebecca. “You’re the best. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Rebecca’s chest tightened at the words. In her mind, they were more than just an innocent expression of gratitude. To her, they were proof of the connection she believed they shared.

But as the family laughed and chatted in the background, Rebecca knew she has to tread carefully. For now, she would savor these stolen moments, each bringing her closer to the girl that had unknowingly stolen her heart.

A few days later, the rain drizzled gently on the windshield, the rhythmic pattering a soft backdrop to Rebecca's steady breathing as she waited in the car outside the studio. The faint glow of the streetlights illuminated the empty parking lot, casting long shadows that danced with the occasional gust of wind.

She drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, glancing at the studio's doors. Moments later, they opened, and there Yn was, her hair slightly damp from sweat, her tired frame illuminated by the faint glow of the fluorescent lights behind her.

Rebecca watched her for a moment, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips. Yn looked exhausted, her duffel bag slung over one shoulder and a water bottle in her other hand. Yet, even now, she was beautiful. Rebecca stepped out of the car, opening the umbrella and walking toward her.

"You didn't have to wait outside, you know," Yn said, her voice tinged with guilt as Rebecca reached her.

"I wanted to," Rebecca replied simply, her voice warm. She gently took Yn's duffel bag, slinging it over her own shoulder before reaching for her hand. "Come on. Let’s get you home."

Yn hesitated for a moment, her hand lingering in Rebecca’s before squeezing lightly. "Thanks, Becca."

Rebecca didn’t reply, instead guiding her toward the car. She opened the passenger door for Yn, waiting until she was seated before setting the duffel bag in the backseat and getting behind the wheel.

As they pulled onto the empty road, the soft hum of the engine filled the space between them, mingling with the sound of the rain against the car. Yn sighed, leaning her head back against the seat.

"Long day?" Rebecca asked, her eyes flicking briefly from the road to Yn before returning to the windshield.

"You have no idea," Yn groaned, stretching slightly. "I was stuck on the same routine for hours. I just couldn’t get the last part right. It’s so frustrating."

Rebecca glanced at her again, a small smile playing on her lips. "You’re too hard on yourself. I’m sure it’s already amazing."

Yn shook her head, a tired but amused laugh escaping her lips. "You always say that."

"Because it’s true," Rebecca said softly, her voice carrying a conviction that made Yn pause. She looked at Rebecca, her tired gaze softening.

"Thanks," Yn murmured, her voice barely audible above the rain.

Rebecca reached over briefly, her fingers brushing Yn's knee in a comforting gesture before returning to the wheel. "Anytime."

The conversation flowed easily after that, Yn recounting her struggles in the studio and Rebecca listening intently, occasionally chiming in with a question or a comment. The road stretched ahead of them, deserted and glistening with rain.

When they approached a red light, Rebecca slowed the car to a stop.

It was then that she turned to Yn, her expression unreadable. Before Yn could ask what was wrong, Rebecca cupped her face with both hands, her thumbs brushing gently against Yn's cheeks. Yn's breath hitched, her eyes widening in surprise.

"Rebecca, what are you—" Yn began, but her words were cut off as Rebecca leaned in, her lips capturing Yn's in a kiss that was anything but gentle. It was intense, filled with a desperation that left Yn reeling.

"Becca—" Yn tried to pull back, her voice muffled against Rebecca's lips, but Rebecca didn’t let her go. Her hands held Yn firmly, one sliding to the back of her neck while the other rested on her cheek.

"I love you," Rebecca whispered against Yn's lips, her voice raw. She moved her hand and unbuckled Yn's seatbelt before pulling the younger girl on ber lap.

Her forehead pressed against Yn’s as she continued, her breath warm against Yn’s skin. "I love you, and I can’t keep pretending I don’t."

Yn stared at her, her heart pounding in her chest. She started to get nervous about this whole situation. "What are you talking about? What about Carlos—"

"Carlos doesn’t mean anything to me," Rebecca interrupted, her voice firm. Her hands moved to Yn’s hips, gripping her as though she were afraid she might disappear. "He never did. It’s always been you, Yn."

"Rebecca, no..." Yn’s voice wavered, her mind racing as she tried to process what was happening.

But before she could say anything more, Rebecca’s lips were on hers again, silencing her protests.

This time, the kiss was rougher, even more intense. Rebecca’s hands moved to Yn's ass, squeezing it with practiced ease. Yn gasped as Rebecca guided her forward, making her grind onto Rebecca’s lap.

"Rebecca, wait—" Yn began, but the words caught in her throat as Rebecca’s hands found her breast, pulling her shirt down.

"Just… let me," Rebecca murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. She immediately moved her mouth towards Yn nipple, sucking and biting it. Her other hand tugged her other nipple harshly.

When Yn tried to move away, she kissed her again. One hand moved to her hip, while the other started touching Yn between her legs.

She moved it left and right, putting pressure on Yn's pleasure button.

The hand that held her hip moved to Yn chin, making her look at Rebecca. Rebecca moved ger hand fast in-between Yn legs.

Yn legs started shaking, she was approaching her orgasm closer and closer but looked very displeased.

Rebecca moved her mouth to Yn ear, whispering to her: " You are mine now. Mine alone."

[corroded-hellfire]

This is a little angsty but do the AYW kids ever go through scrutiny about reader and Eddie's marriage from school and their friend's families?

With Ryan and Luke did they ever hear negative comments from their classmates other parent about reader and Eddie? Or a classmate saying "[reader] isn't your real mom!"

Can we agree that these boys need to be protected at all costs?

Words: 2.1k

[As You Wish masterlist]

The smell of crayons and Play-Doh hovers in the first grade classroom. The teacher, Ms. Fabray, counts her blessings that there aren’t any more foul odors filling the space. The kids are just back inside from recess, still rowdy with those last bursts of energy they get whenever they hear, “Five more minutes!”

As usual, Brandon Simpson is the last student to stroll in the back classroom door. He’s the most consistent troublemaker in the class and one of the reasons Ms. Fabray wishes this school year would hurry up and be over.

“Go sit there, Brandon,” Ms. Fabray instructs the six-year-old, gesturing to the only table that has an available chair. 

He plops down next to Luke Munson, who only glances at him out of the corner of his eye before he goes back to drawing.

Luke’s tongue pokes out between his lips as he concentrates on getting the shape of the dog’s nose just right. The moment he sets the black crayon down, his arm gets shoved. Luke’s brow furrows as he looks over at the culprit. Brandon beats Luke to the punch to speak, though.

“That girl who picks you up from school isn’t your sister?”

Well, that was one of the last things Luke expected to come out of the other boy’s mouth. Once his surprise vanishes, his head fills with a vision of you and how you smile every single time you see him and Ryan walking out of the school building.

“No, she’s my daddy’s girlfriend,” Luke says with a shake of his head. 

“But she’s so young!” Truthfully, Brandon wouldn’t have been able to gauge your age even if he was given one of the numbers, but he heard his mom complaining about the Munson’s dad being with a girl young enough to be his daughter.

While completely untrue since Eddie is only twelve years older than you, Brandon didn’t know nor care, and was just happy he had something he could use to tease Luke.

“So what?” Luke asks, reaching for the brown crayon.

“My mom says your dad should know how ridiculous he looks,” Brandon says. “That he’s probably having a midwife crisis and is trying to feel young again.”

The little girl sitting across from Brandon tilts her head up slightly to look at him beneath her sandy blunt bangs.

“It’s midlife,” she says. 

“Whatever.” Brandon waves her off. “He only wants her cause she’s pretty and young.”

The bully is clearly just parroting what he heard his mother saying, but it gets the intended effect. Luke drops the crayon and his small hands curl into fists.

“She loves my Daddy.”

“But not you,” Brandon says with a shrug, turning to grab a few crayons of his own. “I bet she just puts up with you cause she likes your dad.”

“That’s not true!” Luke shouts.

“Quieter voices, please,” Ms. Fabray says from across the room.

“She’s not your mom,” Brandon goads while starting his own drawing. 

Luke hates that he can’t deny that. You’ve treated him better than his own mother has from the day you met him. It didn’t take long before Luke wished that you were his mom instead of Brittany. When he realized that wasn’t possible, he switched to wanting you to be with his dad. Now that his dream had come true, Luke never thought someone would be so mean about it. 

“But she loves me,” Luke says.

The words are true, he knows it with every fiber of his being. The four words don’t even seem enough to the little boy to encapsulate how much you care for him and do for him. To him, you’re better than a mom, since his frame of reference is so terrible.

“I love my hamster, but I’m not his dad!” Brandon shoots back. 

Luke’s hands bang down on the table and his brow furrows even further.

“I’m not a hamster! And she loves me!”

“What’s going on over there?” Ms. Fabray asks, craning her neck in the direction of the boys.

“She’s a fake mommy,” Brandon continues, ignoring the teacher. “Not a real mommy.”

The fury has come to its boiling point in Luke’s small body. He sees red as he lunges for Brandon, knocking the other boy out of his seat. Both of them land on the rough carpet, a mess of tangled limbs and shouts.

“Boys!” Ms. Fabray yells, hurrying over to them. “Luke! Brandon! Stop it!”

Luke wraps an arm around Brandon’s neck, his Hot Wheels sneakers digging into the ground. Brandon’s legs kick, his heels pounding against Luke’s shins. It causes Luke to let go, and Brandon takes the opportunity to roll over and start hitting Luke in the ribs. 

Ms. Fabray pulls Brandon off by gripping him beneath his armpits and sets him down behind her. Luke hops up and the teacher immediately holds her hands out to keep the boys separate. 

“That is enough!”

“He started it!” Brandon shouts. 

“Nuh uh!” Luke shoots back. “He started making fun of my mo—my dad’s girlfriend!”

“Brandon, you go sit in the corner seat. Luke, you go sit at my desk. Now.”

The gray-skinned demon creature in the novel you’re reading creeps behind the main character and is on the verge of pouncing on her when the door to Eddie’s apartment swings open. You jump and let out a small yelp. 

Eddie ushers a red-faced Luke inside and closes the door behind them. 

“Hey, what’re you guys doing here?” you ask, glancing down at your watch. It’s still hours from when you usually leave to go pick the kids up from school. 

Neither of them answers, but Luke takes off running down the hall to his room. Eddie tosses his keys onto the counter and lets out a heavy sigh. He stumbles over and plops down on the couch next to you. 

“Luke got in a fight.”

“Again? Is he okay” Your eyes widen in shock as you lean in towards your boyfriend. The fight Luke had gotten into when kids made fun of Ryan’s glasses last year doesn’t feel that long ago.

Eddie nods, sighing again. He turns his head to look at you, a small melancholy smile on his face.

“Physically, yeah,” he says. “He’s upset though. He started it over something another kid said. About you.”

If the rug was pulled out from under you with the fight news, this crumbles the entire foundation of the house beneath you.

“Me?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says softly. He reaches over and rubs his hand over your thigh. “That you’re not his real mom.”

Your heart drops. Sadness and anger simultaneously begin to fill the now-empty space in your chest. 

“Can I talk to him?” you ask, a tentative tone to your voice. You’d completely understand if Eddie, as his dad, wanted to be the one to handle this. 

“I think you’re the only one who can make him feel better, honestly,” your boyfriend tells you. 

Something about that touches you. The fact that you have a special enough place carved out in Luke’s life that there’s a pain only you can soothe. 

Unsure of how to respond to that, you nod and push yourself up from the couch.

It’s quiet as you approach Luke’s room, but when you peek your head in, you see him sitting on his bed sniffling and rubbing his eyes.

“Hey, you.”

He doesn’t look up at the sound of your voice. Instead, he curls further in on himself and scoots closer to the bottom corner of his bed. Your heart aches more and more with every step you take towards him. 

His Hot Wheels blanket shifts beneath you as you take a seat next to him. 

“Do you want to talk?” you ask him quietly. 

There are a few moments where his sniffling is the only noise in the apartment. Suddenly, Luke turns around and buries his head in your chest, his arms gripping you tightly around the waist. 

A gasp escapes you, shocked at the overt show of emotion. The usually happy and bubbly little boy sobbing into your t-shirt tears your heart in half. You instinctively wrap your arms around him, hugging him close to your body. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” you coo before pressing a kiss into his curls. “I’ve got you. Everything is okay.”

Luke’s heart wrenching cries bring tears to your own eyes and you do your best to blink them away. 

“I love you,” you mumble against his hair. “I love you so much, you wouldn’t believe.”

He pulls back and looks up at you with wide watery eyes. His face is tear-stained and rosy red. The pain you find there is unbearable. You’d give anything to make him feel better, to make him happy.

“I…I love you, t-too,” he warbles out. 

You press a kiss to his forehead, and he pulls away a little more so he can wipe his eyes. 

“Are you okay, sweetie?” you ask, reaching up and wiping away a tear he missed. 

“I-I got in a fight,” he admits. 

“About what?”

His bottom lip wobbles but he swallows down the fresh tears that threaten to pour. 

“Brandon Sim-Simpson kept saying you don’t love me because you’re n-not a r-real mommy.”

“Oh, Luke.” One of the tears that had collected spills down your cheek and you’re quick to wipe it away. “You don’t think that, do you?”

The little boy shakes his head, his curls bouncing with the motion. You breathe a sigh of relief. It would absolutely break you if Luke believed this punk kid and doubted your affection for him.

“Good.” Gently, you cup Luke’s face in your hands and look him straight in the eye. “Luke, I love you, Ryan, and Daddy more than anything or anyone else in the world. I didn’t know it was possible to love someone as much as I love you.”

“H-He wouldn’t believe me,” Luke sniffles. 

“Well…then he’s stupid.”

Luke’s eyes widen at your words. He never expected to hear you talk like that about a kid. But this particular kid hurt your boy, so you think calling him “stupid” is on the tame end of the spectrum. 

“Honey, you know that I love you. Me, Ryan, and Daddy all know it and we all love each other. That’s all that matters.” You smooth some curls away from his face. “I know what he said hurt you. He was wrong in what he said. But it’s true I’m also not your mommy.”

The six-year-old glumly nods his head, his eyes downcast.

“But…” You tip his chin back up, so he’ll look at you. “That doesn’t mean I don’t love you in the same way a mommy does. Because I do. I would do anything for you.” I would die for you, you think to yourself. I would kill for you. “I will love you for the rest of my life, and even after.”

“Even after?” Luke asks.

“Yeah,” you say with a soft smile. “I’ll be a ghost and still try to squeeze you.” You wrap him up in your arms and pull him into your lap. He’s getting a little big for this, but you don’t give a shit.

Luke tucks his head under your chin and his hands grip your upper arms, as if he doesn’t want to let you go. “You’re everything to me, Luke. The fact that I’m not the one who brought you into this world doesn’t change that. Nothing can ever change it. You’re my little boy.”

“You’re better than a mommy,” Luke says against your neck, letting his eyes slip closed.

His words warm your heart, and you give him a soft squeeze. 

“Thank you.” Softly, you rub your hand up and down his back. “Do you feel better?”

You can feel his curls brush against you as he nods his head. He sniffles once more before tilting his head back to look up at you.

“Yes. I’m sorry I got in a fight.”

“I understand the feelings getting too big, sweetheart. But we have to find better ways to express them, okay?”

He nods again and dives back in for another hug. 

You cling to him just as tightly as he does to you. The love the two of you have for one another surrounds you in a warm bubble, solidifying this moment in both of your memories. There’s nothing you wouldn’t do for Luke, and you’ll spend the rest of your life showing him in a million different ways. 

[scoriarose]

There's something important I've been wanting to share with fellow snake caretakers, and it's that if you have been sweet to your snake and love them, they have probably told you hundreds of times they love you- but because we speak different languages most won't understand. It makes me a little sad thinking how hard they try to tell us, and some folks just don't recognize that and they hope their serpentine friends love them but never know for sure- or even believe the lie snakes aren't even capable of love at all. They are, they have brain structures similar to birds and not only are physically capable of feeling love, they also regularly display traits associated with love including empathy and self sacrifice to protect others they care about both in captivity and the wild.

Snakes express love through touch. Through cuddling, and vibing (being near someone not touching just happy to be in their company). There's another outdated lie that snakes cannot and will never enjoy being pet - likely this comes from someone seeing cats and dogs lick their young and enjoying being pet because it feels similar to what is natural to them but since snakes do not lick their young it was believed they could not enjoy this sensation outside of their nature.

But that's wrong. It IS their nature! They just don't use their tongue, they use their whole body! Thing is, a lot of people who see them slither over another snake don't realize it's more than just them going somewhere, and they think they're carelessly going over another snake. Sometimes that may be the case, but touch is also how they bond. I read an article detailing how a mother snake was tolerant of her babies climbing all over her. Tolerant? It's like if a toddler hugged their mommy and said they loved her- tolerant would be such a strange word to use. They are telling their mommy they love her through their very limited means of communication.

Isn't it incredibly sweet that a creature who is so so limited in communication made sure to have a way to say, "I love you." I think that's just the best news ever.

If you doubt what I'm saying well, a number of snake keepers can vouch for me they've also accidentally discovered that touch can also be romantic if you touch the wrong place where most wouldn't expect it to be.

But the point I'm trying to make is, I bet there's tons of people with pet snakes who are telling them over and over they love them, hoping their human understands. If your snake doesn't do this action it doesn't need they don't love you- it would come from them not having figured it out. They learn not just from instinct, but from each other. Not having a parent snake to teach them (like some species including rattlesnakes) they have to figure out everything on their own for the most part.

Many figure out how to express, "I love you" through touch. Most snake caretakers I imagine don't recognize the attempt to communicate as anything more than the animal slithering around- but if you look for it you might see your pet telling you! If they are on you and start slithering around but not going anywhere in particular (sometimes back and forth) ESPECIALLY if you pet your snake and they relax/enjoy it- they are probably trying to pet you. And in doing so, show they care about you too, that they love you.

Scoria pets me with her chin, and I've never heard of anyone else's snake do this. She has, however, taught this to her sister who now pets me both ways.

It would be neat to hear if anyone sees their snake doing this and realizing what it really means. (Your snake might have even learned another way if you don't pet them and show them love another way- sometimes they learn by copying us too.)

Hope this helps someone- please share if your snake has a way they show they love you, I see very little on this from other caretakers and would be so happy to hear if others have similar experiences.