#but I don't think I have the time patience or wrist strength for that

[annadiplosis]

I've made index cards highlighting the most important contents of each one of my notebooks. Still haven't decided if I want to keep them all in the same place as a general archive or tuck them into their corresponding books for easy browsing, but I'm in love with them.

(Huge thanks/shoutout to @petite-gloom for talking about these particular index cards on her blog awhile ago! I discovered them thanks to her, and I couldn't be happier ♡)

[luveline]

your spencer writing is so beautiful jadey! i was wondering if we could get some hurt comfort where reader really struggles after a case and he comforts her? <3

thank you ♡

Grief for other people can vary in strength. Ever present, occasionally numbing, tonight's case has left you neck deep in it, and the feeling needs to come out. Tears slink down your face in lazy rivers. You keep thinking you'll stop crying. Then you remember her hand, soft with newness and curled in death, and it starts again. 

It hurts to cry. You don't attempt to stop; you don't think about it, or the team, or the heat at your side, you just think about the girl's hand. It's not fair. It's too much. 

"It's okay," Spencer says. You know it's him without looking, his voice a familiar gentleness that reaches your ears despite the roaring-quiet nothing and your sniffles. 

You turn your face away from him to hide. 

He puts his hand on your thigh amicably, his tone encouraging as he continues, "If you don't calm down you'll throw up. What can I do?" 

You suck in a shaky breath, an attempt to regulate feelings too big for one body, "Sorry, it's– I'm fine. I'll be fine," you wobble. You can't finish the second fine, a cry crushing it down. 

Another hand touches you, fingers on your wrist and weaving down. He covers the back of your hand with his palm. It's not like Spencer, but it's not like you to cry like this. 

Spencer doesn't tell you to stop crying or try to shush you. He'd told you once that he tries not to stop people when they're talking, because he knows what it feels like to be shut up. I wish people… I wish people would have more patience, I think. Sometimes I can't get things out the way others want me to, and I get that things are time sensitive, but. I don't know. If I have time to listen, I'll listen. 

Listen to you cry, listen to your staggering breaths as you catch them. Patient, Spencer pulls your hand to his lap and draws letters into your wrist. You can't make out what he's writing, but you can feel the bumps and curves of Os and Ks. Maybe he's telling you it's okay, maybe he's writing out a recipe. Whatever it is, it calms you down. 

"Do you want some water?" he asks as you still. He sounds pitying, sure, but he understands. His thumb rubs down to the middle of your hand. 

"Yeah. Please." 

He passes you a plastic bottle of water with the seal already broken. You have the wherewithal, then, to see where you are. The conference room is dark, and your teammates have given you the chance to cry alone, though they'd sent Spencer in to keep you company, it seems. You can see Morgan waiting out by the door like your bodyguard, and you're sure you can hear Hotch shouting. Or, not shouting, he doesn't yell much, but his voice is loud and terse. He cannot be argued with. 

"I'm sorry you got the short straw." 

Spencer puts an arm behind your back. "Actually, I had to fight Emily to be the one who gets to sit with you. And I can't fight, so it was more like begging." 

He rubs your back. You forget that he's a man, sometimes, but you can feel the ridges of his arm, smell the woody scent of his deodorant as it stretches around you in a half hug. His awkwardness with women doesn't extend to his friends at any rate, and he hugs you with surety. 

"You're one of my favourite people. I'm sorry you didn't know that. Holding your hand when you cry isn't a short straw," he says. 

You lean into his shoulder. He murmurs a quiet, "Come here," as you do, his jaw pressed tight to your forehead. 

"I'm so sorry," you say. To him and to someone else. 

"It's okay. It's not your fault. You can't save everyone." He sounds near choking up with his last sentence. It's a grim and undeniable truth. No matter how hard any of you try, there will be impossible cases with twisting riddles for motivation and terror that fills every corner. There will be young girls who die, because there will always be someone waiting to hurt them. 

"I tried–" You bite your cheek until it screams at you to stop. 

"I know. There was nothing else we could do." 

You turn into him completely, wrapping your arms around his waist in a vice. Spencer doesn't baulk, circling your shoulders, his breath tickling your ear where you squish your face against the collar of his sweater. The fabric bites your skin, a wicked heat returning to line your lashes. 

Your back shakes under Spencer's hand.

"I know," he repeats, rubbing your back. "It's okay, Y/N, I promise. He can't hurt anyone else, ever again." 

It doesn't make the crime any better. It won't bring back the girl you lost. And it can't erase the agony of knowing you failed her. 

Spencer starts to talk. Simple facts, explaining grief. When we cry, it releases oxytocin. You feel better afterwards because of the chemical effects. 

When you eventually do calm down, head pounding and chest aching, Spencer helps you clean the tear stains from your cheeks with a pocket pack of tissues, and you know it isn't the oxytocin that made you feel better, just a really caring man. 

"Thank you for dealing with me. I know this wasn't even the worst thing we've seen, but I–" You clear your throat, determined not to cry anymore tears until you're back home. "I couldn't stop seeing her hand. I can't remember my hand being that small anymore." 

Spencer gives you a smile. It's far from happy, a flat line with the slightest curve at the corners. "Some things are hard to forget. And we shouldn't forget them. But we have to keep going so we can balance it out. Or at least that's what I think." 

You hug him quickly. "Thanks, Spence." 

His hand twitches against the small of your back. 

[doeidawn]

doeidawn's kinkmas day two ❆ cookie decorating

KINKMAS 2024 | PREVIOUS DAY | NEXT DAY

cookie decorating quickly goes from wholesome to crude when soap gets a little too excited watching you lick up frosting. 1.9k

❆ pairing: soap x gn!reader

❆ tags: MDNI/18+; cookie decorating; established relationship; soap's a horny bastard; oral sex [m receiving]; facial

Having a boyfriend meant you could spend the holidays doing all of the cheesy, romantic couple stuff you wouldn’t get to do otherwise. Watching movies together, decorating your shared living space, surprising each other with mistletoe—the list went on. It quickly became the favorite time of year if only because the two of you got to spend it together.

Today ended up being the ‘baking cookies together’ day. It was going well; preparation went smoothly and nothing ended up burnt. Success seemed within reach, and the only thing left was decorating the cookies. You could already picture the two of you making gingerbread-shaped caricatures of each other.

…Except Johnny couldn’t decorate gingerbread to save his life.

One would think a man with enough military training to teach him a steady arm and the patience of a saint would at least do an adequate job. But his gingerbread men came out looking more like gingerbread monsters.

At least he looked cute when he concentrated. Bottom lip sucked between his teeth, brows furrowed as he bent over the counter to run the piping bag in his hands over the cookie. He had to be granted his own space with his own parchment paper to account for his ‘creative process’.

“How’s that one?” Johnny steps back from his workspace with an expectant look.

Stepping closer to his spot on the counter, you look down to see a messily decorated gingerbread cookie sat pitifully on the parchment. Crooked and covered with uneven, squiggly lines, it looks more like the handiwork of a child than a grown man.

“It’s…better. You’re getting better.” It wasn’t a lie, per se; at least he managed to get most of the frosting on the cookie this time. 

“Oh, c’mon. Not even a ‘good’?”

“Well—”

“‘Oh, it’s pure dead brilliant, love!’”

“He’s…charming. It’s charming.”

“Charming…” Johnny scoffs the word. The faux-offense on his face almost makes you feel bad for him.

You reach out to wipe a smear of icing off of the countertop. The sugary white leaves behind a small patch of stickiness. “I feel like you got more icing on the counter than the cookie.” It was quite the feat considering you put down parchment paper to avoid that very problem. 

“Aye, it’s hard to hold this thing…” As if proving his point, he tries to hold the piping bag correctly—or, at the very least, the way you showed him—only to accidentally push out a glob of icing onto his hand. It seemed the beast didn’t know his own strength.

“Be gentle with it, for starters,” you tease. “You’ll get the hang of it.”

You don't think much of it when you grab his wrist and bring your hand to his mouth. Sticking out your tongue to lick the icing off of his fingers, the sweet sugar complimented by the faint taste of his skin. You just didn’t want it to go to waste, that’s all.

Licking your lips, you give him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Keep goin’. We got a few cookies left. Practice makes perfect.”

Moving back to your own workspace, you busy yourself with your own attempts to frost. It wasn’t perfect, maybe not worthy of any bakery display, but at least you were managing better than Johnny. But, you could hold the piping bag correctly, and your lines came out much smoother. At the very least, one could tell what it was you were trying to ice.

You hear a sound come from his direction, one you think might be a grumble of annoyance. When you turn to face him you’re met with his arm outstretched in your direction.

“Got more icin’ on my hand.” He states it so matter-of-factly, an expectant look in his eye that confuses you.

“Okay?” You shrug. “Sink’s right there.”

“You’re not gonna lick it off?”

Oh, the bastard. That expectant look turns mischievous and it doesn’t take much to figure out it’s because he’s got an idea in that head of his. 

You look at his hand and, sure enough, a thick smear of white icing sits on his fingertips. You arch an eyebrow when you look back up at his face. “Seriously?”

“Well, you were so nice about it before.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t fight the smile on your lips. You set your piping bag down with a sigh and waltz over to him with a look of fake annoyance that only makes him smile in return. Fingers wrap gently around his wrist, bringing his hand to your mouth. Holding his gaze, you decide to meet his audacity with your own.

Leaning in slightly, you brush your lips against his fingertips, ensuring some of the icing smears onto your skin. Then, in a movement that is all-too-lewd, you stick out your tongue to lap and lick at the sugary substance on his hand. The taste of his skin spurs you on until your lips wrap around two of his digits. Sucking them into your mouth, your cheeks hollow as he presses against your tongue.

Hearing Johnny groan is all the satisfaction you need. You smile—as much as you can with his fingers crowding your mouth—and watch him move closer. A hand rests on your waist to hold you tight while the other tests your gag reflex.

“I’d like to get somethin’ else in that pretty mouth.”

You tilt your head back, sliding your mouth off of his fingers until it makes a wet ‘pop’. “Yeah?” You coo between placing kisses on his fingertips. 

“Yeah.” He presses his body against yours, his solid frame against your softer one. “Got some icin’ of my own I think you might like.”

“Shut up,” you laugh.

“I promise I can paint your face better than a piece of gingerbread.”

“The competition isn’t very fierce.”

“Watch it.” A warning and a tease wrapped into one. His hand slides from your waist to the small of your back, pushing just enough to press your hips against his.

To no one’s surprise, he’s hard already. You can feel the bulge behind his jeans, pressing incessantly against you as he rocks his hips gently. Your hand moves down to cup him through the layers, feeling the heat and need behind his movements. A squeeze of your fingers makes him hiss and buck into your hand.

“Didn’t know makin’ gingerbread got you hot,” you tease. Your fingers trace the outline of his cock, brushing against the rough fabric. 

“Me neither,” he says with a kiss to your cheek. “But you make everythin’ hot.”

“I think you’re just a horny bastard.”

“Aye, that might be true too.”

As your hands move to tug at the button and zipper keeping him contained, he bucks into your hand as the fabric starts to loosen around his hips. No doubt it was a freeing feeling. Especially when your fingers hook into the waistband of both his jeans and his briefs to pull them away from his body.

You sink to your knees as you tug the layers down. His cock juts out, in desperate need of attention. Bobbing between his legs as it throbbed, flushed an angry red. You weren’t so cruel as to deny him what he wanted, even if his proposal was the cheesiest thing you’d ever heard. 

The shuddering moan that falls from Johnny’s lips as you lick a fat stripe up the underside of his cock makes it all worth it. He mutters something unintelligible about how good you look on your knees while one of his hands rests on the back of your head. Coming in from all angles, you lick and lap at his cock, running your tongue over every vein and ridge until he’s bucking his hips impatiently.

Wrapping a hand around the base, you finally take him into your mouth. The steady bob of your head makes him groan, his eyes rolling back as you swallow around him. Your tongue and mouth massage his cock with its wet heat and you can already tell he can’t get enough.

Your head slides down, taking him deeper until the head of his cock hits the back of your throat. Your resulting sputter has him moaning a mix between your name and praise.

“Jesus, your mouth’s so fuckin’ perfect…” He’s not forceful when he pushes his hips forward, he just watches his cock slide in and out of your mouth. His moves in time with your bobbing head, setting a rhythm that makes him weak in the knees. “Aye, that’s it, just like that…”

Your eyelashes flutter as you blink up at him. Watching his face contort into different visages of pleasure, brows furrowing and biting his lip before letting his head fall back with a groan. Your hands run over his thighs and dig into the meaty skin. Even through his jeans you can feel how tense the muscles are. 

Forcing yourself down again, you nearly take him to the root. The instinctual jerk of his hips forces the rest of his cock down your throat until you gag. He pulls back instinctively at the sound, but your mouth follows the movement to keep him fully enveloped. The respite he tries to grant you is completely ignored in favor of hearing him moan and curse with every bob of your head.

“Oh, you’re eager, eh?” The only response you can manage is an affirmative hum around him that makes him twitch in your mouth. “Fuck, do that again…”

You indulge him again, humming around his cock as you slide your mouth up and down. Another muttering of curses spills from his lip, praise slurred between his heavy breaths. You pull back enough to swallow properly and tease the head of his cock with your tongue.

“Shite…gonna make me cum wit’ that mouth…” Johnny pants as he rolls his hips against your face. “So fuckin’ good…”

Humming around his cock one final time, you slowly pull off of him. Your hand quickly replaces the strokes of your mouth by giving him sharp, fast pumps. The slide of your spit makes the movement easy, the wet, rhythmic sound hitting your ears.

“Still wanna paint my face?” Your throat feels raw as you speak, lips puffy from the exertion.

“Fuck, yeah.” He grunts the words as his hips buck into your hand. He curses before reaching down to replace your hand with his own. “C’mere…”

Watching him stroke his cock with your saliva makes your head spin. Looking up to see his heavy eyes watch you, dick throbbing in your face as he works himself, the flush on his skin that deepens as he gets closer—it’s a work of art. One you never grew tired of witnessing.

It doesn’t take long for his hand to still and his mouth to fall open in a long string of moans and curses. His hips twitch as ropes of thick cum land in hot streaks on your face, pooling on your lips and running down your cheeks. He’s panting, almost growling, as he works himself through the high. You can see his eyes move sporadically, like he’s trying to pinpoint all the spots he hit.

Licking your lips, the salty-sweet taste of his cum covers your tongue. You moan at the taste before leaning in to lap at the last few pitiful dribbles from his cock. Don’t wanna let anything go to waste, after all.

“Well?” You start, tilting your head as you look up at him. “Do I look better than your gingerbread man?”

You can tell Johnny isn't fully there yet, brain still lagging behind as he takes in the sight of you. His hand moves to your cheek, thumb smearing the cum on your cheek. A lazy smile paints itself on his lips.

“Yeah,” he finally answers, still breathless. “A lot better. Told you this was my strong suit.”

“Oh, I didn’t doubt you for a second, Johnny.”

[spicyllewyn]

When you walk away.

Moon system x F ! Reader.

"When you walk away, Cut me open, take my heart So we'll never be apart Don't you let it go to waste."

Tags & warnings. NSFW, NON-CONSENSUAL. (+18)

Word count. 2.5k

Summary. You, literally, physically, cannot break with your boyfriends. (Inspired by the reddit story.)

The 4 of you were in tune, just as you had been throughout your entire relationship. Steven, Marc, and Jake were aware that this would happen at some point or another, much to their liking sooner rather than later, but sometimes there's not much you can do. Sometimes, being the keyword.

As time passed, your patience dwindled little by little. Cleaning Jake's wounds, comforting Steven's nightmares, and picking up the broken pieces of Marc's fits of anger became 'too much' when you realized that you were the one living with pain silently most of the time.

It wasn't their fault, you were aware of that, you couldn't deny that they loved you, and you didn't have the strength to lie to yourself about it, but you also knew that there was no way they would rid themselves of the title of vigilante. Khonshu didn't let them go, but they didn't fight as much as you would like either.

The sound of the door pulled you out of your thoughts, and one last time Marc's exhausted expression caused a stir in your heart. You gave him a small smile, and he, seeing that strange expression, knew that the day had come.

"What are you doing awake?" He closed the door behind him.

"I was waiting for you." When your body shifted to one side of the couch, there was space for him beside you. Marc understood, the couch creaked under his weight, he was right at the corner of it, raising his arm to the backrest to be able to touch your shoulder with his fingers in a loving gesture. "We need to talk."

He nodded silently, his breath hitched but he managed to disguise it for you.

"I can't do this anymore, Marc." Your voice broke when you said his name, and he gave your shoulder a gentle squeeze as if trying to convey the strength you needed to continue. "I love you but I think this isn't the best for either of us."

He nodded again, biting the inside of his cheek.

"I understand." He didn't make a scene, he didn't raise his voice, and he didn't plead, and even though the tears trapped in his eyes portrayed the real pain he felt, you knew he loved you too much to make this harder for you.

Marc would never turn the knife that he had already stabbed you with when he agreed to be in a relationship with you. He pulled your wrist and with a push, he brought you against his chest where you cried for a good 10 minutes until his voice caught your attention.

"I'm going to leave, okay?"

"You don't have to do it, not now." You checked the time on his watch; he still had an arm around you. "It's late."

"I need to be alone." His lips occasionally brushed against your hair, small kisses that carried the scent of your shampoo. "Please."

This time it was your turn to nod silently.

Your bodies broke the hug, and both of you felt the cold of the night hit you like a truck. You watched with crossed arms as he removed Steven and Jake's posters from the walls; he never liked putting up decorations of that kind.

He packed up what he could in some boxes, books, clothes, even a picture frame with a photo of both of you, he loaded everything into Jake's car.

He took your cheeks one last time, and you enjoyed the taste of mint in his mouth, those chewing gums he used to try to relax his anxiety, those that never worked. When Marc left, you sent a couple of messages to acquaintances to break the news because you had been together for so long that your partner could already be considered part of your family and your group of friends; you received some immediate responses.

Mostly words of encouragement, regretting that things hadn't worked out.

You went to sleep in a cold, lonely bed, but with a strange sensation, as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. You had the chance to start over, to live a life with fewer worries.

Things could get better.

Steven's late-night podcast woke you up around 10 in the morning on Saturday, accompanied by a delicious scent of waffles; you knew it was him because the coconut aroma always prevailed in his vegan breakfasts.

Without opening your eyes, you complained to yourself. Were they trying to change your mind now? You were ready to argue.

The feeling of discomfort caught your breath in your lungs when you opened your eyes and saw the posters back on the wall. Looking down was also a surprise; you were wearing one of Steven's shirts, your favorite for sleeping.

You could swear Marc had taken it the day before along with many of his things.

"Love?" Steven's smile slowly faded when you appeared in the kitchen, an uncomfortable expression on your face. "Is something wrong? Are you okay?" He stopped what he was doing to walk up to you, his delicate touch landing on your cheeks just as Marc had done the night before, squeezing them to get your attention.

"I think... mhm." You let him interrupt you with a kiss. "I had a bad dream." Or at least, that's what you were trying to convince yourself. There was no other explanation for this happening.

"Sorry for leaving you alone in bed, I was starving." He looked genuinely concerned as his forehead rested against yours. "I made waffles for you; I know they're your favorites."

You spent the morning with him, and Steven being as affectionate as always didn't surprise you; that simply was Steven's personality. As the day went on, you understood that you had only experienced an extremely lucid dream, so you would have to go through this again somehow.

While your boyfriend rested his head on your lap, you stretched just a bit to grab your phone, which lit up with a message arrival, and you took the opportunity to check one last time that you weren't going crazy. You scrolled through all the messages, and there was none talking about breakups or anything close; in fact, your last message had been sent to their shared phone, you saying you missed them without receiving a response.

Your other hand, almost by inertia, played with Steven's curls as you searched for any sign that told you that the previous night had indeed happened.

Nothing.

"Are you okay?" He mumbled sleepily; apparently, your fingers had tensed in his hair.

"Mhm." You swallowed hard. You couldn't do this again; it felt like a cruel joke of life. "Can we talk? Please?"

Very much against his will, he straightened his back and faced you. Those beautiful brown eyes with dark circles underneath looked at you with as much admiration as they always had, his fingers intertwined with yours, and his thumbs stroked your hands.

"What's wrong, love?"

"We can't be together anymore." It was better if you did it bluntly, as if ripping off a band-aid all at once rather than doing it slowly.

His expression gradually fell, tears filled his eyes, his brow furrowed, and a small pout appeared on his lips. His fingers slowly tightened around yours.

Your hands hurt from the way he clung to you.

"Steven, you're hurting me." You sobbed too when you saw him cry openly. When you stood up, he fell to his knees in front of you without letting go. If only your dream had been real; going through this was hurting your heart twice as much as you had ever imagined.

Another reminder that Marc and Steven were not the same person.

"Sorry, I-I'm sorry." He stuttered as you helped him to his feet. He released your hands to hug you against his chest, almost cutting off your breath with the suddenness of his movements. "I'm sorry, love."

Sorry for what? He hadn't done anything wrong in the relationship; not all breakups arose from mistakes on either side, sometimes things just didn't work out, and that was it.

He, internally, knew very well why he was apologizing to you.

"I need to be alone, Steven." You whispered when you felt him hiccup against you in pain; his shirt you were wearing felt damp by now at shoulder level.

You gently pushed him back by the chest, and he took a step back, still trembling.

"I... Y-yeah, of course, I... understand." He forced himself to take a step back.

"Jake's car keys are where they always are." With heaviness, you had to turn your back on him, or you knew he would never leave. You could feel his brown orbs glued to you for just a few seconds before the slam of the door made you startle.

You ran your hands over your face in desperation. Facing it a second time had been worse, but things were done, fortunately, and you could talk about it better later, or at least that's what you hoped, when he felt calmer.

You sent messages giving the news, unlike your dream, this time it was a way to beg that no one asked about Jake, Marc, or Steven. You didn't have the strength.

A pair of arms tightened around you strongly causing you to groan in the middle of your sleep. You snapped your eyes open, feeling suffocated by the pressure.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You slurred as you struggled to get out of his grip.

“What's wrong, princesa?” He growled lowly as he pulled you tighter against him. He raised his head a little so he could look at you. He had barely one eye open, and thus he managed to look confused.

“Let go of me, Jake!” You were noticeably upset, his arms seemed to enclose you with increasing force as if he didn't notice that you were on the verge of a panic attack. The previous few hours hadn't been a dream, you were sure.

Your back hit his chest and you felt his breath on your neck.

“Wasn't one round enough for you?" His hips collided with yours to give emphasis to his words. “Do you want me to get you tired, amor?” One of his arms continued to take your breath away while his right hand moved down your body, stopping at one of your tits, squeezing it with his fingers almost in a playful way before continuing to crawl downwards, heading between your legs.

“Let go of me, I don't even know what the fuck you're doing here.”

Your voice cracked, breaking his heart.

But not as much as it would break him to let you go.

“I live here, tontita.” His fingers were rubbing against your pussy lips slowly. Up and down, forcing you to open your legs a little more.

“Jake, please.” Your eyes were filled with tears. This was a horrible nightmare.

“Shh, be a good girl for me, okay? I had a long day.”

You didn't even put in any strength. You didn't have it anymore. As his fingers played with you, his hips pushed against your ass, over and over, rubbing his boner against you.

He was going to admit it, even he couldn't imagine being attracted to the idea of ​​something like this. But after your attempts to escape, this felt like a way to reaffirm that you belonged to him.

“Look how wet you are, did you miss me?” When he got tired of his fingers doing the work he forced them into your mouth, making you taste yourself.

Steven's shirt that you again didn't remember wearing made his job easier, only pushing aside your panties to insert his cock deep inside your being in a single thrust. And you no longer knew if you were sobbing from pleasure or fear.

You didn't remember him being so rough to you before. With one push he flipped you onto your stomach with him crushing your entire body, where he could thrust more comfortably with a handful of your hair tangled in his fingers.

You heard the bed creak, his gasps, and you felt your face wet from your saliva and tears filling your pillow.

“Fuck, that's just w-what I needed.” He was using you. You could recognize it, sex between you always meant pleasure for both of you, now he seemed to be using you as a thing where to leave his cum.

Between tears and kicking, deep down, you knew you were liking it.

He didn't last long, not right when he discovered how much he liked taking you this way. You slept with him next to you, with his sperm running down your legs and wishing this too had just been a dream.

You didn't search for them around the apartment the following morning; as soon as you got up, you ran straight to grab a suitcase, if you didn't escape your own damn mind was going to drive you crazy.

Three days had been enough to make it difficult for you to differentiate between reality and your lucid dreams or whatever it was you were experiencing. You bumped into Marc as you exited the room.

"Woah, what's going on?"

You didn't even respond to him; you couldn't even look him in the face after what they had done to you.

"Move!" You pushed him as hard as you could, grabbing your phone, which for the third time had not a single message about the breakup.

"Sweetheart?"

"How the hell dare you ask me what's wrong!?" You were shattered, your mind, your body, you. "Last night, Jake... "

"Huh?" He interrupted you with a furrowed brow. "We just got here, sweetheart."

No, no, no, no, he was lying to you.

He had to be lying to you. You wanted to wipe that confused expression off his face with punches and tear off the hand he was using to point at Jake's car keys in their place.

You put them there; he just threw them wherever when he arrived.

And truth be told, when you looked down between your legs, you were almost too clean.

You were going crazy.

"Fuck off, Marc." Erratically, you ripped the charger off your phone from the wall and almost ran to the front door as if he were chasing you. Which clearly he wasn't. In fact, he wasn't doing anything except looking confused. "You and Steven and Jake, leave me alone."

The slam of the door made you feel free, as did the car horns and sounds of street vendors.

That night, you searched for the farthest motel you could find; you kept your phone off after sending messages to acquaintances assuring them you were okay but didn't feel comfortable sharing your location with them at the moment.

Ah, and at least you had a good night's sleep, after a long time.

“Pancakes or waffles?”

Steven's voice made you snap your eyes open. Your head was on his arm, and you felt the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed against your back.

Tears filled your eyes when you recognized the place around you.

Your home.

When your sobs reached your boyfriend's ears, you immediately felt him place a kiss on your shoulder.

"What's wrong, honey? Did you have a bad dream?"

:)

[rosemaze-reveries]

This is going to be a heavy request, so if it's not your cup of tea please feel free to delete this or not acknowledge it, please.

That being said, would it be okay to request a comforting scenario involving at least Norton with a reader who struggles with SH? And if I had to push, maybe Ithaqua and Luchino as well?

On a separate note, I love your writing and blog. Your past posts are both entertaining and comforting to read. I don't use Tumblr a lot but I check back in to see if you and a few other blogs have updated. Thank you for your time, and I hope you're well.

this kind of comfort fic can be hard to come by, i know 🥲 thank you for the req and the well wishes♡ same to you

inspiration hit for luchino first so i'll post his for now. the others will be linked here as they get finished. they won't all be this heavy on the medical care, i promise!

luchino diruse x you he dresses your wounds; you worry you're a burden to him

⚠️ graphic SH wounds, medical treatment (stitches)

Luchino’s ears prick at the sound of your footsteps.

He could hear you from a mile away—one of the perks of being part-reptile—as you sidestep the creaks in the floorboards, careful not to draw the attention of any curious night prowlers. He hears you pause at his door, your fist hovering above the wood, mustering the strength for that impossible knock. This happens occasionally. Sometimes you decide against it and retreat back to your room. Luchino never stops you, just like he never tells you that he’s been counting each of your visits, even the ones you think escape his notice.

Just when he thinks the silence has lasted a beat too long, his gaze drifts to the door, and it creaks open without a knock. Apparently you’ve decided to skip over it altogether. Not that that bothers him; he was hoping you’d choose him from the start. You’re slow and deliberate when you push the door in, giving him time to protest if he needs to. He doesn’t.

“Still awake?” you whisper.

Luchino is sitting in his reading chair. It’s the only lit corner of his room, with an open book in his lap and an apple core browning on the table beside him. Clearly he’s retired for the night. The sight of it makes your stomach churn, as you know you’re disturbing his quiet evening, but you’re not sure what else you expected. He flashes you a tender smile.

“As a matter of fact,” he says, closing his book and passing it to the table, “sleep has abandoned me entirely. Staying here tonight?”

His question doesn’t hear its answer. You wander into the room, shutting the door behind you. It wouldn’t take a fool to know you’re a little out of sorts—you haven’t even acknowledged him, and your eyes sweep the room erratically, trying to land on anything but him. Luchino watches you with curious patience. You gnaw on the inside of your cheek. Best to just get it out with.

“Stitches came out again,” you say.

He doesn’t bat an eye. “On their own?”

“Mhm.”

As he stands up, your legs stiffen, hanging under you like lead. All you can do is send him a glassy stare when he comes to inspect your arm. Luchino had just refitted your sutures a few days ago, after their first instance of “falling out on their own.” He’s well aware that wasn’t really the case. Even if he won’t admit to it outright, you know he knows, and you both keep the lie going anyway. He’s considerate like that. Or maybe he’s just placating you. Blaming sloppy stitches should be a blatant insult to his medical expertise, and Luchino is far from unskilled with the needle. Even so, this is one detail he never questions you on.

He curls his fingers gently around your wrist. You’re wearing a loose nightshirt with sleeves that reach your elbows. Somewhere in the back of his head, he finds it unusual that you’d walk around the manor with your forearms exposed, but he reasons that this was urgent enough to warrant an exception. It’s a grisly sight. Frayed silk knots dot your skin, all tattered and picked at, and the wounds between them have begun to pool again. He heaves a sigh as he examines it all. Guilt spikes through your throat.

“I could go find Dr. Dyer instead,” you offer, already trying to pull away. Luchino’s gaze flicks up from your arm. The eyes reflecting back at him are wide and winded and pierce straight through him, as if afraid of something he can’t see. He cups a warm hand around the base of your neck.

“This is nothing you and I can’t manage,” he says. His thumb tenderly traces over your cheek. “They won’t heal as neatly as they might’ve before, that’s all. Wait in my chair.”

He releases you to rummage through his bedside cabinet, where he fishes out some ampoules and a leather tool bag. You don’t move right away. The longer your eyes linger on Luchino’s frame, a burning sensation prickles over them, but no tears want to fall. He turns around with an armful of medical supplies.

“Are you feeling faint?” he asks.

“Kind of,” you admit. The dizziness hasn’t whittled away your consciousness yet, at least.

“Well, I’d rather not have you testing gravity today. Sit down.”

His chair is still warm from his late-night reading. You watch him clear away his book and the apple core before spreading a cloth on the table. You’re thankful he’s able to stay so calm each time this happens, chatting with you as if this is a practised routine. But he surely can’t be ecstatic about having extra work to do this late. Work that could’ve been avoidable, at that. The guilt clouding your mind wins you over again.

“You’re too good to me,” you murmur, eyes drifting to the floor. “Do you ever regret it?”

“Being good to you?”

“Putting up with me. I can’t imagine it’s been fun.”

“No,” he agrees, unraveling the leather bag. “Seeing you this way grieves me in a way I’ve never known before—hold out your arm.” One of the ampoules contains some kind of clear fluid, an anesthetic he made himself. He breaks off the neck. “But I’ve never considered this to be ‘putting up’ with you.”

“Would’ve been easier to find someone who doesn’t have all these problems.”

“And lose out on you? Not a chance, my dear.”

That cheeky pet name prompts you to shoot him a glance. He ruffles your hair.

“Too good to me,” you mutter again, looking away.

“One of the many pitfalls of being in love, I’m afraid.”

Forceps, scissors, needle and thread. As he lays out the rest of his equipment, your heart skips a beat. This is always the worst part. You always forget how much you dread it until it’s right in front of you. Watching him draw a syringe of that anesthetic, you instinctively squeeze your thighs, clenching your jaw and fists to steel your nerves.

It takes two doses to numb each stitch. Luchino says he’s working on a stronger anesthetic, one that can be ingested, or at the very least one that numbs a larger area. But he is staunchly against the idea of using you as a lab rat, so you’re not sure how far along its progress has gotten. For now you’re stuck with this method. You suppose you don’t hide the unease on your face very well. All he needs is one look at you before he reaches for the foot of his bed. There he grabs the crumpled shirt he wore earlier that day, balling it tight and holding it to your lips.

“Open.”

Thankful to have something to bite down on, you roll your eyes to the ceiling, toes curling off the floor.

Luchino works quickly. You can’t bring yourself to watch, though. He finishes dressing your fresh stitches in thick layers of gauze. You’re sure it’s to deter you from picking at them again. At least for another night, you think, but you refuse to voice that thought. You murmur out an awkward thank-you for treating you.

Instead of answering Luchino keeps his gaze fixed on your arm. It’s silent and scrutinizing, lost in thought. You know that look in his eye—he’s caught on to something. You quickly jump up, trying to sidle past him, but he catches your arm.

“(Y/N),” he starts, standing with you. You don’t say anything. His fingers find your sleeve and slowly begin to roll it up your shoulder. There’s no hiding this from him anymore. He’d figured out your patterns a long time ago. You can’t stop your secret from being exposed, but you can keep your gaze locked on him, searching anxiously for a flash of annoyance, exhaustion, bitterness—anything to reveal how much of a nuisance he finds you. Surprise, you think. More work for you. Aren’t I inconvenient?

Luchino lets no indication of his thoughts appear on his face. All he does is trace a gentle finger alongside a barely-congealed string of blood. These ones are new. There’s a long strip of them, neatly in a row, just a few hours old.

“They’re not too deep,” he observes. “The bleeding’s already stopped. I’ll bandage them now.”

He smoothes down your sleeve and looks at you for a moment. Then he lets out a sigh, drawing your body into his chest. You let him hold you, not quite returning the embrace.

“Will you find me before this happens next time?” he asks.

You don’t answer.

[paintthetownblack]

That Night II

Eric Northman x reader

Part I

Later That Night, Eric dresses his new human up for a night at Fangtasia.

-

"Wait." My voice cracked, but I got a hold of his hand. The notion of my being able to keep him against his will was ridiculous, but I acted instinctively. "Can't we talk for a second?"

"No, we're late." He took my wrist and made to leave, but turned around one last time. "I will heal those for you later, if you want, but, for tonight, I will ask you to keep them visible." He was referring to the bite marks. I hadn't thought about them yet.

"Why?" He began to walk, and to pull me behind him.

"What's with all these questions? You're a hostage, keep it down." His tone was rather amused.

"Am I a hostage? I thought I was yours, isn't that more like a pet?"

"A pet is a hostage. You wouldn't let a pomeranian wander off by itself any more than I would let you. I will tape your mouth shut, don't think I won't."

"But you did let me wander off. And I didn't run, doesn't that count for anything?"

Without turning to look at me, he pulled a roll of duck tape from his trousers' pocket, waved it up so I could see it. "I was watching you from afar the whole time."

Of course he was.

We went in through the back door. Fangtasia was already open, music was blasting, voices were rising to meet above the noise, and they were lacking a bar tender, that was me. Eric led me into a powder room, and ran paper napkins under the tap, to wipe the blood from my neck, which was already drying down. He was being careful not to press the wounds.

"How come the bleeding stopped so fast, you tapped straight into a vein-"

"Stop."

"Is it your saliva? Does it stop-" He very quickly tore off a piece of tape, pasted it to my mouth. I wanted to laugh. I tried to take the blob of napkins from his hand and do it myself, he swatted my hand away, mouthing "stop it", then shouted for Pam.

She came in with some shiny leather corset rolled up in her hand, a pair of heels, and very little patience. "What did you do to her? Wrestle her on the forest floor?"

"She sat on the ground on her own, I had no part in it."

Pam started to pull dried leaves from my hair. I tried to help, but she too slapped my hand away. So I let my arms hang and let them have their fun. Pam eventually pulled my shirt over my head, as Eric backed off and washed the rest of my blood off his hands. She went for the closure of my bra, and I turned away from her.

"My, a prude, how original. There's nothing I haven't seen yet in my line of work. Trust me." She put her hands on my waist, to turn me back around. I was looking at Eric, who was looming next to us, in the way of the lightfixture, casting a shadow over me. "Right. It's not my eyes you want to shield yourself from. Again. How original. Come." She took me into a stall. From there, she took the tape off, took my bra off, and set my hands against the wall. "Let me know if you can't breathe." Was all Pam said, before she fitted the corset around me, and started to lace it, then tighten it. And she tightened it. It was surreal to feel the ease with which she pulled the strings, the effortlessness of her wrist motions, and to then feel the results of that motion on my own ribcage, as it got squeezed in.

It was my only first hand experience with vampire strength, and it bewildered me so much, I forgot to advocate for breathing room. At the same time, I felt protected somehow, with Pam there, it was like I was tapping into an intention she had. Or maybe it was meant for Eric, and I was just in the way.

He had come over at some point, and was watching from behind Pam, admiring her handy work, which she completed very fast, after which she grabbed me, and spun me around to face him, as I was just trying to inhale. She presented me like a wrapped present, let go of me, and I stumbled in place a bit. "This is as good as I can do, so, as good as anyone can do." She opened the door narrowly "Hurry up. Plenty of time to make doe eyes at him in the morning." She slid out with grace, and closed the door. It felt inarticulate to describe her as modelesque, she wasn't ethereal exactly either, she had more edge than that, which was all the more mesmerizing.

"All I need from you now is to sit" he pushed my hair behind my shoulders "and not look afraid until closing. Think you can manage?" He took me by the arms and bent down to look me in the eyes.

I nodded.

"Speak, I need you to focus."

"Yes. I can manage." I whispered, not knowing why, I hadn't meant to.

He didn't seem convinced, he probably wished he could glamor me. I almost did too, it would have been easier. He kept looking into my eyes, calm and collected, and I became aware I had been holding my breath. I started to breathe regularly, and started to relax. It was him, who didn't need to breathe, who reminded me I did need it. He led me outside, after that, up on the stage, where he sat me down in a chair next to his, before he took his place.

I could almost see myself with my mind's eye. Corseted, and bitten, and sat next to my vampire overlord, it was a bit funny and a bit scary. What was he to me, in vampire terms? I didn't even know how to call this, what we had, what we were doing. That, in itself was proof I was in over my head.

That, and the awe he inspired in the clientele of Fangtasia. They not only accepted his presence, as a kind of authority, looking down at them, but they came specifically to bask in it. Exactly as I had done, choosing to work there, accepting to be his. Sitting next to him, and becoming aware of the effect he had on people, I felt my choice had been somehow out of my hands, as if he were hypnotic, irresistible. Was it a consoling thought? Not exactly, but it didn't pain me either. I had time to turn the matter over in my mind, over the course of the night.

At closing time, I felt like I had worked three consecutive shifts, sitting and being watched had been a lot harder than I had imagined.

"Here" Eric gingerly pressed his thumb into his fang, and rubbed the little droplet of blood that came from it, onto the bite marks on my neck. And I felt them close.

"What's the point? Won't you have to feed again, soon?" I think the exhaustion was getting to me, and I was getting short with him. I wanted to take it back, when I heard how it came out.

"You never reopen an old wound. It's bad practice. Now off to bed with you." He kissed my forehead, almost in passing, as he pawned me off to Pam. She took my wrist with just as little interest and led me to the basement.

"I thought I had evaded the dungeon."

"It's not a dungeon anymore. Look." A spark of sarcastic enthusiasm in her voice.

There was a fainting couch arranged for me. Ironic.

"Best Ginger could do on short notice. It'll suffice for today, I'm sure."

"Are you going to help me take this off?" I finished saying, as she closed and locked the door behind me. I was left to sleep with the corset on.

Even so, lying down felt revolutionary to me in that moment, as the tension in my shoulders began to release. I noted some scattered pieces of furniture around the former dungeon, a mirror, a side table, an area rug. Ginger had put in an effort, it was genuinely sweet. I fell asleep on that thought.

I jolted awake a few times throughout the day, until, finally, Pam was face to face with me, come to wake me up. I saw her turn for the door, so I hurried to stop her "Would you please help me take this off?"

She sighed and rolled her eyes, but came over anyway. She took me to the mirror, so I would see, and peeled the corset off of me. It stung, as it pulled away in places, after it had pushed into my skin for so long. I had red indentations from every seam, and every piece of boning. The pattern was so vivid, almost beautiful.

Behind me in the mirror, Pam put her hands on my waist. Again, that cold touch felt wonderful. "You have a nice waist." She said. "Back in my day, there was hardly a higher compliment you could pay a woman. Brutal times, really." She ran the backs of her hands across my ribs, and down my abdomen, then up again. "For all his faults, Eric wouldn't let a damn thing happen to you. That is, if you are who you say you are. When he takes ownership of someone, he means it. Count your blessings, most vampires would have just washed their hands of you. If you know what I mean... doc." She whispered into my ear. Was that her way of welcoming me into the family? If so, it was a warmer welcome than I'd expected from her.

"Did you leave me like this all day, because you wanted me to feel what it was like for you, back when you were human?" She seemed impressed, somewhat taken aback.

"What an intuition you have." She disappeared from behind me, I only heard the door.

Part III

[sehodreams]

this isn’t really an MTL but riize reaction to you tryna be the dom? or reader tryna be bratty and them just not having it the rest is up to you 😉

Hi babe, sorry for taking so much time answering this one, thank you so much for your patience 🥹😭

TW and Tags: bratty!reader, sexual content, MDNI, orgasm denial, spanking, marks, teasing, Dom!Riize (?).

Eunseok would immediately put you in your place, do you think that since he lets you do whatever you want most of the time you can treat him like that? Oh no princess, learn your limits. He loves to spoil you and treat you like the most precious little thing he has ever seen, because for him you are that, but you can't just go and talk back to him or disobey him, he doesn't like that, so he'll make it clear in case you haven't noticed, and he'll do it exactly where you're the most vulnerable at, his bed. Forget about cumming the next nights, he won't give you what you want until you're crying, begging and apologizing, he can't spoil you anymore until you understand that between the two of you, at the end, he's the one in control, and you, as his little doll, have to think twice before you make him mad.

Shotaro and Sungchan are nice, sometimes too nice, and you could've gotten the idea that they'll never get angry at you doesn't matter what you do, but if you ever lie, doesn't matter how little it is, and they discover it, you better get ready for what's about to come, because they're the nicest people you could ever know until you push their buttons, and when that unusual occasion comes, you'll get punished like you deserve. They're the kind that want to talk about it first, because you're two adults and you can use your words, but if they see you won't listen to them and realize what you did was wrong, prepare to get spanked until your eyes are tearing and you can't look at their faces of how embarrassed you feel after they finish with you, because if you don't get it with their words, they'll make sure you do it with their hands against your skin, and in Sungchan's case, he'd be extra hard with you, leaving more marks beside the palm of his hand on your ass, perhaps purple spots on your wrists and thighs from you trying to escape his grip, little reminders of your mistake to never repeat them again.

Sohee and Anton don't get easily fed up, you'd have to do something extremely unacceptable for them to think that's it, like publicly embarrassing them, saying things they didn't want others to hear, or don't treating them right in front of their friends, something so disgraceful to the two of you that they'll have to excuse themselves and leave, and then, when you were completely alone, they'll say how disappointed they are, but don't worry, they'll make you get your act together again, if you couldn't do something as simple as being a decent person in front of others, they'll have to teach you how to be one, so not only you'll get punished after each incident, pushing you down the bed and leaving the good boy act behind, no smiles or giggles and soft caressings anymore, using the strength they haven't showed you before, making you cry with each touch, in the future, before going out together, they'll always tease you, feeling your pussy with their fingers and leaving you all hot and desperate, "if you do well today, when we come back you'll get what you need".

Seunghan likes jokes, he enjoys them, but he doesn't like to be offended, he wants to laugh with you, not to be laughed at, so if you start teasing him too much, soon he'll show you your place again, with his hand around your throat and that cheeky grin in his face, when you're in his room, he'll make you the joke until you can't help but cry and apologize for acting like that, "look at you, you say my cock is so small no one else would like it? Come on, you can't even take half of it, let's see if you laugh again after I finish with you tonight"

Wonbin loves a bratty reader, he would create useless rules and would ask more things from you just to have the opportunity of punishing you more often, he's always waiting for you to act up so he can treat you like he wants, and he would do everything the other boys do as much as he can, like teasing and overstimulating you, enjoying your crying face whenever you're taking him, and he'd also laugh at you and leave little (but multiple) marks on your body, he lives for the sound of your broken voice apologizing when he's fucking you and then the embarrassed expression you have when you see the mess you've done after he finishes with you, he can't wait for your next mistake to use you and make you cockdrunk again.

[dantefreakdaaaa]

Can you make a nsfw stars Wesker x reader story, where he does Y/n in the laboratory in the mansion after she finds out that he’s a traitor?? This is my first time requesting, sorry if it’s bad.

I low-key love this request but also don't because me no good at make plot

little bit darker than most of my stuff, includes coerced sex (I think this is considered dub con) not sane, safe, and barely consensual

Rough and angrier wesker then I normally write

If any of this makes you uncomfortable please do not read (I could barely write this myself lol)

NSFW, afab reader, no pronouns

----

"Stay here, wait for my return. I should be back quickly." We're the last words you heard your captain speak to you, after that he left you in one of the mansions bedrooms before jogging out into the main room of the house. It was boring to sit there and you had assumed you fell asleep, due to waking up what felt like hours later. By time you had awoke you had grown tired of waiting and instead picked up your gun, and started wandering the mansion. The intricate and antique decor of the house, along with the limited light, gave for a spooky vibe. You tried to best to ignore the warnings, nothing could be heard, you hadn't seen anyone yet, and blood was smeared all over the floors and wall. Stumbling around, you found a basement, and inside that basement was a door, glowing light behind it and the faint echo of footsteps. Without hesitation you force open the door, holding up your gun as you do so ready to fire. The person in the room stopped and turned to look at you, scowling for a moment before they had a shocked expression.

"Captain...? What the hell are you doing. And where are Chris and Jill."

"Didn't I tell you to wait for me? Just what do you think you're doing out of that room."

You step farther into the lab, the door to the room swinging shut behind you. If you had known what was about to happen you would have run back out and gone far, far away from this place.

"You didn't answer my question. Where are Chris and Jill."

"That is none of your concern. Now, why are you here, you were supposed to stay in the room I placed you in." He growls under his breath and you start walking towards him, standing by some messy lab tables and counter tops with failed experiments. The lights don't help illuminate the room very well, the room glowing a faint blue as you squint trying to see the man in front of you.

"It is some of my concern! They we're apart of STARS, same as me! What happened to them Wesker!?" You get up in his face and yell, but cut yourself off. Instead you stared at the red adorning his face. "Blood... what happened down here Wesker...?" Further down, his clothes are torn and tattered, coated with a mixture of his own blood and others.

"That's it, my patience has reached it's end." He slams you onto one of the tables, hovering above you snarling, his glasses slip down, and shows off his glowing, red eyes. You gasp and shake, you've come to a realization.

Albert Wesker isn't human anymore.

His hand immediately shoots to your throat, his other holding your hands above your head easily. The hand on your throat squeezes it, cutting off your airflow quickly and removing your ability to think anymore then you have, to focused about living.

"You should have listened to me. If you did this wouldn't have come to this. I was going to take my sweet time with you too, but I guess what must be done, must be done."

"Wait-!" You claw at his wrist, though it being pointless for his strength. Strength wise your Captain would most likely forever have an edge above you, and it made him grin as he watched you hopelessly attack him. Grabbing and Clawing at his wrist as you desperately tried to plead with him. "Please-! Stop-!"

"Stop? But why should I. Not when I'm having so much fun with you." He loosens his grasp, enough for you to talk easier at least, yet still enough to watch you squirm and heave.

"I-i'll do any-anything. J-just please do-don't kill me-" Squeezing again he thinks over the idea you've proposed.

"Anything, you say..." A devilish grin crossed his face as he stared down at you. "Are you sure about that offer, sweetheart?" His tone was mockingly sweet, jabbing at you for begging so pathetically.

"Y-yes...anything- just- please-" Speaking felt impossible with the way he was squeezing your throat, digging his nails in as well. The pain burned and you felt light headed and once he finally released you the dizziness stayed. It only really went away after you finally got air in your lungs again, gasping and choking as you tried to breathe again.

"That was a foolish offer you made, but I'm happy to take this opportunity to have you for myself." You stare up at him, unresponsive, still trying to catch your breath. The hand trapping your hands let's go and returns to his side. "Stand up and turn around."

"What-"

"You said you would do anything to live, now do as I say or you'll end up on a missing poster." Something you learned from the years of working with Wesker, he made promises, never threats. He stepped away from you and you slowly got up, doing as you were told. Facing away from him, you yelped out in shock as he pushed your head and chest onto the table. "I think I'll have fun breaking you.."

"What- what are you gonna do to me-?"

"Whatever I want, Dearheart."

--

I'm gonna make a part two to this I just can't motivate myself to get to the actual smut part. THERE WILL BE A SECOND PART. AND I WILL WRITE FUCKIN SMUT.

[cosmic-d1ce]

Regular FML AU things

Phil just wants to go outiside

"Look, my love, I have to go-"

Phil cuts Forever off, no patience left in him. He needed to be out of here. Now. "Please! Just take me with you! I won't leave your side, we can take care of Richas together, don't you want that?" He tried. He'd been trying for days.

Forever's eyes flickered over Phil's face before he sighed heavily. "I just can't say no to you... You'll be the death of me, dearest, you really will."

He walked back to Phil, where he sat politely on the floor. He'd been so well behaved recently, Forever had no reason not to let him come with them. It had been days since he last acted out and he was surely losing it a little in this empty room.

"You cannot be causing trouble though, okay? Last time I let you out you left me this nasty scar." Forever said in a warning tone. The same tone he used to scold Richas on the rare occasion he would act out. He gestured to the still healing scar on his arm.

Phil nodded quickly, eager to comply.

Good. That was good.

Forever took a key from his pocket and took off the chains around Phil's ankles, then his wrists. His hands were still healing from the last broken bone and his leg still ached when he stood, but he wasn't about to complain. Being outside with a bad leg was better than even another single minute in that room.

As soon as he could, he took a hold of Forever's arm, both for physical support and reassurance. It had become increasingly difficult to feel safe without Forever around. It was very conflicting. Forever smiled at him, a softness to his gaze that Phil was still unused to. It felt so different than the usual harshness that came with what Forever thought was love.

"I'm so glad you're coming around, Phil, you know I hate to hurt you." Forever's smile feels out of place here. It made his words feel much less genuine.

"I'm sorry." Phil mutters without thinking.

Forever rolls his eyes lightheartedly, "It's okay! I knew it would take some work but here you are! We can go and take care of Richas together and be a family!" He pulls Phil a little closer to him somehow.

Phil nods. He lets Forever guide him out of the room. He limps as he walks alongside his partner, using Forever to keep himself upright and not on the ground.

The moment they get out of the door, Richas runs to his dad and into his arms, hopping up into a familiar and warm embrace. The boy scribbled on his sign and turned it to Phil with an excited chirp.

PAPA PHILZA!!

Phil smiles as best he can, using his hand to shield his eyes from the harsh sunlight that he had become so unfamiliar with. Suddenly, he regrets his need for the outside world. Too bright. too loud, too big. A part of him wants to run back inside and hide in his bed. He pushes it down, hiding it away in a box he hopes to never open.

Richas tugs on Forever's shirt and grabs at Phil. Forever yelps as his hair is pulled but obliges his son's wishes, passing the little boy to Phil with a soft smile. Nothing could take the love for his son away. It's sweet. It reminds Phil of Chayanne.

He struggles for only a moment to keep Richas in his arms, strength mostly gone from weeks of not enough movement and food. His arms tremble but he keeps the boy up, letting Richas sit on his hip as he grins at his dad.

Forever smiles back before coming closer to kiss the two of them on their heads. Phil tries not to think about it. He smiles at the soft show of affection but a horrible feeling curls in his gut. This feels all too domestic, too sweet, too familial. Richas is not his son. Forever is not his lover.

[spinningwebsandtales]

Imagine Tsugaru Making You Feel Accepted

Tsugaru Shinuchi X Kitsune FemReader

Rating: None

Warnings: Reader is self-conscious, mentions of death

Word Count: 663

Requested by @kawaistrawberry21

(A/N:) Thank you for your patience as I have been working on this! I hope you enjoy the fruits of your request as I enjoyed writing it! I love writing for Tsugaru as there's not much when it comes to him and it's a shame! I hope this is everything you wanted and more! Thank you for your request as I like to write things that my readers want to see! Until next time happy reading! ~Countess

The day was beautiful in the meadow you and Tsugaru found yourselves in. You hadn't seen him in so long and you wanted to enjoy every moment when he was around. His head was nestled in your lap as the sunshine played across his features. A gentle breeze tussling his hair, tickling his nose. He grunted itching at the tip of his nose when you began to thread your fingers through his dark locks. He moaned as you itched his scalp and lulling him back into peaceful slumber. While he was known as the Oni Killer he had never mistreated you for a moment. As a Kitsune and one of the last of your kind, you had taken to hiding your features from everyone.

You remember the moment vividly as Tsugaru had came across you in a weakened state when you first met. Your ears and tails on show for everyone to see. Normally monsters such as yourself were either hunted down or used to make money in a side show. You trembled to know that you were facing the man who was notorious for destroying beings like you. But instead of a killing blow he had offered you a hand. He had hid you, long enough for you to regain your strength to glamour yourself.

Your relationship had begun there and you had no regrets on finding such a man as Tsugaru. He gripped your wrist, pulling you from your thoughts as a butterfly flitted by.

"You're thinking about something again, instead of paying attention to me," Tsugaru pouted.

"Can a girl daydream about other things than the man she loves," you retorted kissing his forehead.

"Not when he's around," he winked. "He might get jealous."

"Like anyone besides you would want a Kitsune."

Tsugaru knew well how much it bothered you being different. He knew you feared humans and what they would do to you if they found out you were Kitsune. While he hunted creatures of your kind, it grew old and being part Oni made him realize that everything was more complicated than the populace lead on. Your sadness bothered him and he didn't want you to feel this way. Especially when he was around, though he understood that you needed comfort from him. He set up from your lap, turning around so he could face you. The grass swaying around you both, he plucked a flower and placed it in your hair.

"You don't have to glamour yourself when I'm around," he cooed.

You looked down releasing the spell, your fox ears and tails coming back into existence. One tail twitched in nervousness while your eyes darted around for anyone close by. Tsugaru cupped your chin, making you look at him. He stroked at your soft ear admiring the colors.

"You never have to glamour yourself when I'm around."

"I know," you mumbled. "I'm just used to it."

"I know," he nodded. "I hope one day it'll be where you don't have to worry about others seeing you. But until then you're always safe with me. You are perfect the way you are and don't believe any less."

You nodded, tears pricking your eyes. Tsugaru leaned in kissing you gently causing your breath to hitch. He pulled away, licking his lips before plopping his head back down in your lap. He closed his eyes grinning widely before placing your hand back on top of his head.

"You can pet me some more now," he purred.

"I'm beginning to wonder which of us is the true Kitsune," you snorted but went back to petting his head. This time you sat there in your true form letting the sunshine warm you. You would have no fear when Tsugaru was here accepting you. It made you feel safe and seen. He was everything you could ever dream and more as he made you feel like no other man could. As long as you had him, you felt like you had everything.

[justpoliteconversations]

Olive Tree Sonnet [Raffle Winner]

This was supposed to be a little drabble for four-eyed-nerd, who was chosen randomly during the Follower Raffle. But I'm a liar. So it's a whole damned oneshot instead. So much for promises.

Masterlist

Characters: Juniper (OC created by four-eyed-nerd, Warriors, Wild

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise. Linked Universe is the fan creation of jojo56830.

---

Things have been strange with Wars lately.  Ever since they'd found out about Juniper's ancestry (and his unusually prevalent place within it), he'd been the most infuriating toss up of awkward avoidance and brooding cucco and Juniper was just about done with it. She respected him, truly she did, but for being so intelligent he sure had a way of putting his foot in his mouth.

Just because he was her grandfather (and wasn't that something) doesn't mean she wants to be his apprentice or some nonsense. He had his strengths and she had hers, and no amount of nitpicking or corrections was going to change that. She wasn't him.

At the time though, she hadn't known how to brooch the topic. Usually so willing to voice her grievances and set boundaries (her gerudo blood, perhaps? her hero's spirit?), it had caught herself off guard just how much his opinion mattered to her. Partially because of their revelation, yes, but also because of just how much she admired him.

He was just-

He was just so confident. Self-assured in a way she struggled to be, elegant and cultured too. Intelligent and frighteningly strong, well spoken and educated. Handsome and connected. Respected by the group (though he often bickered with Legend and Twilight). He even had Time's ear.

There was just so much to admire. So much to live up to, and she just-

She couldn't be him, no matter what he expected of her. The shoe didn't fit and she doubted it ever would. He might have been her grandfather, but they were not woven from the same cloth.

So here she was (fresh out of a tense argument with that very man) hiding behind some outcropping of boulders with Wild (like some sulking teenager) while Time talked Wars down. Scratching pictures and anxiety fueled nonsense into the aged stone only did so much though, so she began picking at her split ends with dust covered fingers instead.

A hand grabbed at her wrist, pulling it away from her now tangled, dirty hair. She yanked her wrist out of their grasp without thought.

"For fuck's sake! It's just damn hair!" Juniper snapped in frustration, turning to the interloper with a tense frown.

Wild just leveled her with an unimpressed stare as he pulled his hand away from where it'd been hoovering, but the downward angle of his ears gave away his hurt. As did the slight tensing of his shoulders.

She immediately felt regret for her loss of patience. All the progress they've made, and this is what starts the backwards slide.

Hell no.

"Look, Wild. I'm sorry. I'm just really fucking tense. I didn't mean to snap at you like that." Juniper apologized, struggling to keep eye contact while he looked so- betrayed.

At her words though he softened, nodding in acceptance before pointing at her doodles. The curious upward flick of his ears was like a balm on her heart.

"It's Wars...slipping on a banana." Wild snorted, eyes alight with mischief (and promise). "Hey! I was mad, okay? It's not like I actually want him to fall on his ass."

"Not even a little, huh?" A familiar voice spoke from behind them, startling the pair. Wild had nearly reached for a weapon, but thankfully caught himself.

Juniper looked up at Wars, wanting to fade away into the rocks behind her but also too upset still to think of backing down. Though she also wanted things to be okay between them, and less awkward. Honestly, she was just a mess right now.

War's eyes flickered to Wild's for a moment, assessing. Surprisingly, he seemed to find what he needed in the way Wild frowned, dug his boots into the grass below and crossed his arms impatiently. Protective as always.

"No need to get testy, Wild. I'm not going to ask you to leave." Wild snorted, as though amused Wars thought he'd have abided by the order even if it had been given.

"Wild." Juniper said, grateful for her friend's unflinching support, but also not wanting to be the cause of bad blood between the men. Wild was just too damned loyal sometimes.

Wild side-eyed his red haired friend unhappily, but backed down, leaning against the boulders behind them. Still watching like a silent predator, but willing to take the support role for this one.

An awkward moment of silence.

"I wanted-"

"What do you-"

Silence again. Warriors cleared his throat, readjusting his scarf in a practiced motion, body language far too relaxed for the way his eyes wavered with uncertainty.

Even his fidgiting was smooth and elegant. It was so unfair.

"I wanted to apologize for my behavior recently." He began, face very carefully passive. "I have been- unfairly strict with you, Juniper."

Juniper felt almost- shocked maybe? Validated? She wasn't sure, but her heart ached as Wars continued.

"I- I know I wasn't there in your life. You have no reason to listen to me, and I know I've overstepped my place as your comman- comrade multiple times now. I know that, and I'll make no excuses for myself. It was my own selfishness that led to where we are now." He paused, pointedly not looking at Wild who was watching him like a coiled snake.

"I'm sorry, Juniper. You're your own person and I have no right to criticize you for who you've become." Juniper felt her heart flutter, relieved and touched and suddenly, unexpectantly, sad. "I'll do my utmost to remember that."

Silence once more. Awkward as it's ever been between the both of them. Wild's eyes flicked between the two, just as awkward in this stilted atmosphere.

Wars nodded his head, suddenly looking unsure now but trying to hide it with pleasantries. "That's all I wanted to say. Thank you for your time." Then he turned to leave, ears red and lower face tucked into his scarf.

"Wars. Wait." The red haired woman said, voice fighting passed the swell of her throat.

The man paused midstep, turning back to her. He was composed now, quick on the recovery as ever.

Wild looked to her too, curious and confused.

"I'm sorry too." The unreadable passivity of War's face was unnerving (it always had been), but Juniper pushed through. "Not everything you've tried to teach me has been unreasonable. Actually, most of it has been damned helpful." Juniper went for her hair again, but remembered how Wild disliked when she damaged it.

The woman took a moment to gather herself, and Warriors was kind enough to let her. Even if now he still looked a little lost. Maybe a little hopeful too. "I don't want you to stop teaching me things." That was the last thing Juniper wanted. "I just- don't want to constantly feel like I've failed you." She looked down, unsure of how to continue.

Arms were around her then, warm and strong but also so incredibly tender. It was almost enough to pull a sob from her.

"You've never failed me, Juniper." Wars said, with such strong conviction in his voice it made the woman's eyes sting. "I'm sorry I made you feel that way." She lost the fight to maintain her composure, hiding her face in his scarf.

"I'm proud of who you've become." She sobbed harder and he held her tighter, speaking into her hair. "I'm glad you were born. I'm so blessed to have met you."

Wild quietly slipped away then, certain now that things would be alright between them. Eventually.

They just needed time.

---

I must now return to the shadows to rest again.

[therantsofawriterrr]

91221

Chapter Four: I'll Keep You Safe, Jagiya

Summary: Kang Hyunyul has had a good life since he left the Jindo gang. But when he finds out that Do Jin is going to be temporarily released, he's stressed and the return of an old flame triggers familiar feelings and with them, the old memories of the only real thing of his complicated past. All while she was saving his life, literally putting her life on the line. Chapter Summary: Sujin confronts Dojin about their deal and Hyunyul makes a final decision. Warning: Violence, implied domestic violence, possessive!Hyunyul, protective!Hyunyul, lemme know if I missed anything. A/N: I'm phenomenally late aren't I? I'm so sorry. If you hung around waiting, thank you. Y'all are real ones.

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

Sujin's mind was a mess. She knew that Dojin wouldn't listen to her. So she'd impulsively sneaked into the school.

She was standing just outside the auditorium when she heard Hyunyul and his friends bickering to just wait for some time.

All of a sudden, there was a big bang, one that made her jump. There was complete and utter silence, her heart beating faster in terror, which then turned into anger.

She stomped out of the school, anger running like lava in her veins. She would've enjoyed the nice sunny weather if she didn't know that her "boyfriend" was just around the corner.

When she turned, there he was, leaning his back against the wall. Her fist automatically swung towards his face, but Dojin caught it and locked it behind her back, pulling her closer.

"To what do I owe the welcome?" He whispered, the almost evil undercurrent audible. Sujin tried to wrench her arm from his grasp, but was only successful in stumbling a few steps back, pulling him with her.

He grinned and let go of her arm, fingers going into her hair instead and pulling her into a kiss. She froze for a few second, but recovered fast and kissed him back in what she hoped seemed like passion.

She still remembered the times he used to do that back when she didn't know the consequences of not accepting Yojun's deal.

Back when she'd been naive enough to think that he actually cared.

Disgust rose in her when she pushed him back gently. She resisted the urge to wipe her lips with the back of her hand as he just stared at her with a smug smile.

"You broke your goddamn promise," she said. He only batted a hand at her and started walking away when she grabbed his shoulder. "We had a deal."

He sighed and looked at her with a deadpan expression. "He ratted me out. What else do you think I should do?"

Sujin growled. "Well, fine then. We're done."

She turned, knowing that he would grab her wrist. "What's that supposed to mean?" He asked.

She shrugged and glanced at him. "You broke our deal. What else do you think I should do?"

She thought he'd just scoff at her mocking voice, but instead he twisted her arm behind her and brought her close, holding her hair in a painful grip. Her heart started beating faster, her vision turning blurry slowly, only focusing on the guy in front of her.

Memories flashed in her mind. The man in them had a different face, but it was enough for the adrenaline to flow in her veins.

"Don't mock me, you hear?" Do Jin said menacingly.

"Let me go," she said, trying to sound as calm as she could. He only tightened his grip on her hair and she could feel the fear starting to spread, her blood turning cold.

"Dojin," an icy voice said behind her. "You should do as she says."

He scoffed, letting her go. "You have the nerve to show up here, you rat bastard?"

"You know, I really didn't want to fight you, Do Jin," he said, smirking. "But, you test my patience."

He pushed Sujin to the side and she fell, her feet not holding enough strength to hold her up at the moment. She looked only at the ground, too panicked to process the events unfolding. Her head was bent down, her hair falling at one side of her face.

The only thing she could hear and feel was her heart beating on a speed that probably wasn't normal.

Hyunyul's hands were balled into fists, knuckles itching to dig into his jaw. But, he was still trying not to get into a fight.

He mostly just wanted to break his teeth for kissing Sujin. He'd gotten out of the school, horrified, knowing that Dojin had a hand in orchestrating it.

He was also angry that he'd do something that could have hurt his friends badly too. Yichan was nowhere to be seen, and they'd just jumped down from the stage to argue with the stage manager when the stage lights above had fallen.

They'd all exited the hall after cleaning up, everyone just thankful no one was hurt. But Hyunyul walked down the nearest pathway, knowing his old friend turned new enemy would be there.

What he hadn't been expecting to see though, was him and Sujin kissing. The visual made him pause, needing to blink once before confirming that he had been seeing what he thought he had been seeing.

He had been seconds away from wrenching her away from him and just beating him to hell and back.

But, he'd stayed back, looking at them talk for a bit. They'd seemed to be fighting, which had given him a feeling of wicked pleasure, already knowing it wasn't going to end well.

But then, he'd pulled her back and his expression turned dark. He'd seen the change it had caused in her. She went from the brave, reckless girl he knew to a scared one. Hyunyul saw her muscles tense up rather than getting even more relaxed like she usually would, and the way she had been trying to get her arm out of his grip, he knew she was absolutely frightened.

It was what had made him walk forward and demand her release.

No one treats my girl like that.

Watching her fall on the ground only raised his anger and he finally reacted, swinging his fist to hit the side of his face. Dojin tried to hit back, but the anger and adrenaline running in his veins, made him flawlessly dodge and hit him in the ways that he knew. He still got hit a few times, but nothing too serious.

It finally got to the point where Dojin seemingly knew that he wouldn't win, so he just started walking away with a glare.

"You'll regret this, Kang Hyunyul," he said, the anger at being humiliated radiating off of him.

When he was finally out of sight, Hyunyul kneeled in front of Sujin, who was still trembling, her breaths shaky and eyes wide. He didn't know what to do, as he'd never seen her like that. She was never the kind to panic or flounder in a situation. She always kept calm and formulated a plan.

He frowned, placing a hand on her shoulder gently. He felt her tense up immediately, which only made his concern and curiosity rise.

"Sujin," he said softly, hoping his gentle voice would bring her back. "Hey, he's gone."

She seemed to snap out of her trance at that as she looked at him, pure fear written all over her face. Then her eyes somehow got even bigger as she touched his torn lip with a thumb, her hand cupping his cheek.

"You're hurt," she said, her voice unusually low. "Why are you hurt?"

"It's nothing, I'm fine," he said. "Are you okay?"

She shrugged a shoulder, looking away from him, blinking rapidly. His hand went from her shoulder to brushing her hair back from her face, the urge to hug her taking over.

"I expected that kinda thing from him, so I'm not surprised," she said casually, causing him to remember that she had rejoined the gang. He retracted his hand fast like he'd been burned.

"So you're both together now," he said, knowing what the answer would be before she nodded. He gave a single nod before he stood up, picking up his bag and slinging it over his shoulder.

The pain that he was feeling was pretty much muted. He didn't want her to see the tears in his eyes, so he showed his back to her.

"Tell him to stay away from me and my friends," he said in a monotone voice. He could feel her gaze burning into his back, but couldn't get himself to look at her.

"Yeah. I'll make sure he doesn't," she said in a soft voice. He nodded and walked away, not daring to look back.

He would never look back.

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated!! Thanks for reading 💙💙💙

[sunwarmed-ash]

🔥Sinful Sunday🔥

Mirror Images:Ch 3

Ships: Petercest (Peter 1/2/3), SpideyDevil (Peter 3/Matt Murdock), all peters plus Matt M\M\M\M

Fandoms: Spiderverse/All Universes, No Way Home, TASM 1&2, Spiderman 1,2,3 Daredevil

Ratings & Word Count: Explicit 14k+, WIP

Tags: Angst that ends in smut, Daddy kink, web bondage, blow jobs, dirty talk, submissive Peter 3, Bottom Peter 3, Top Matt, top Peter 1, Top Peter 2, sir kink, praise kink, foursome

Summary:

“Holy shit, you're strong!" Parker couldn't help but gasp impressed when the hand at his mouth finally dropped. 

Matt's entire body moved to brace up against his own, and then the masked man's fierce growl was in his ear. 

"I don't have time or patience for games tonight. Who are you?!" 

The warning growl accompanied by the show of strength sent pleasure sparks down his spine. Parker swallowed hard. It was cruel how worked up that small action made him because this was the absolute worst time to get a boner. Weeks of no contact with anyone was catching up with him… Maybe he can deflect with humor. That's worked in the past right? 

"Uh, dude, I think it's pretty clear I'm Spider-Man. Or did the red and blue spider suit not give it away?"

The masked avenger tilted his head to the left. 

"Is that your idea of a clever blind joke?"

Parker’s jaw dropped, and the eyes on his mask widened. 

"Oh shit, you're blind!?"

Matt pointed to the blindfolded eye holes on his mask. 

"Obviously. Just as obvious as the fact you're not Spider-Man, because he knows that."

And evidently, you know about Peter, but not us. Parker would put his hands up in surrender, but Matt was still holding them. 

“Okay, okay you're right, I guess I’m not technically-" 

The hand around his wrists squeezed threateningly. 

"Quiet! I don't tolerate assholes in my city and I don't appreciate you impersonating my friend. You have three seconds to convince me you're not better off squashed bug boy."

"Bug Boy. Nice. Haven't heard that one in a while." 

The grip on his wrists got tighter, unamused, beginning to crush his shooters and render him almost powerless. "No, hey, please don’t break those, I know Peter too, okay?"

At the mention of this arachnid variant's true identity, the man dropped his hands in favor for holding Parker's chin tight in his fist.  

"Don't lie to me, I'll know. I can always tell." 

Parker tried to pull back his hips before Matt could feel how much he liked that but the whole motion was executed in less than a fourth of a second. Parker's heart started to pound, not because he was lying, but because the heat from Matt’s muscular body was now touching him in every possible place and he was holding his face, ordering him to answer him, scratching every one of Parker’s submissive kinks and making it only a matter of time until he leaks through the suit...

[giogama08]

Barou Shouei, Blue Lock

I don't even know how I ended up here. How To Be A Heartbreaker - MARINA Word count: +3500

MINORS DNI CW: ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGE UP, in this scenario everyone is 20+, canon divergent, explicit smut, escort! reader, bondage (handcuffs), swearing, blowjob, protected and unprotected sex, cowgirl, doggy, reader and Barou do it four times, dom! reader, fem! reader,

This wasn't part of your contract but you didn't complain. After all, Ego was known for being unorthodox, so it wasn't a surprise when you got a notification from the main computer that you were switching rooms.

Originally, you were supposed to be first prize for the entire Blue Lock project. This means that whoever ends No. 1 at the end of the week gets to spend time with you. Thanks to all the adrenaline, excessive workouts, and constant challenges, your job is to help the best competitor release the stress accumulated through the week. But just like any other privilege in Blue Lock, who of the guys you end up paired with depends on their ranking. So, you have only been with Itoshi Rin since the beginning, since he has always come 1st.

It has been fun since you'd never met someone so stubborn and self-centered. It took you a bit of time and a lot of effort to crack him to the point where he can enjoy having sex, and not only smash his dick into you brainless. You can even dare to say that he develops a liking for you since you're the only one he can't control. You know how eager he gets before finally arriving at your room, so a part of you is quite worried about how he may react when he finds out Ego has been moved you to another room. But that isn't your problem.

Right now, you're curious about who are you going to be with. The picture and some personal info appeared on your phone when you were notified of the change but nothing else. No likes, dislikes, kinks, or anything useful. Basically, you have to discover everything from scratch again. 'Quite troublesome' you thought but don't really upset the change. You were paired with Barou Shouei, and by his look only you could tell he was even more egocentric than Rin, if possible. So, you prepared the room, just in case.

As soon as you see the doorknob turning you know he is going to be a challenge. After all, people usually knock when entering a room with a stranger in it, but he opened the door as if the room were his. He is tall and well-built, and his face tells you he isn't here to chat. His eyes are filled with rage and lust, looking directly at you, like a lion hunting in the Savana.

"Welcome!" you say with your warmest smile, approaching him to shake hands "My name is..."

"Bed. Now," he cuts you, dragging you by your wrist to the bed. "Take off your clothes,"

He sits in the bed, waiting for you to start undressing. It took everything on you not to slap him for his rudeness, but you know better. You unzip your dress slowly and slide one strap through your shoulder before he loses all patience (if he has any at all). But he considered you were moving too slowly so he took your dress and ripped it apart as well as your underwear, leaving you completely exposed to him. He then grabbed your wrist again and threw you to the bed. Not losing any time, he lowers his pants just enough to free his already hard dick and position himself on top of you.

He is so self-absorbed and focused on achieving his own gratification that he completely missed how your hands grabbed something hidden under a pillow. Taking advantage of how distracted he is, you grab his hand and pull it with all your strength. Under normal circumstances, there's no way you could win a fight against Barou, but you did take him off guard. With some quick moves, you accomplish the unbelievable feat of immobilizing Barou by tying him to the headboard with a pair of handcuffs.

You slide from beneath him while he was shouting curses and struggling to open the handcuffs.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing, bitch?! Release me in this instance!" He sounds genuinely confused and you can help thinking he looks cute when he's angry.

"As I was saying," You calmly say as you walk to the nightstand to get some scissors. You then approach him menacing and press the cold silver blade against his dick. Fear and bewilderment fill his eyes as he admires your naked figure. "My name is Y/n. I don't care who you think you are but if you don't behave, I will hurt you"

He swallows hard, feeling a tremble through his spine as he watches how you use the scissors to cut his training suit. "Don't worry. I'm sure Ego will provide another one," you assure him. Like he even cares about that stupid suit. All his pride and power reside in being in control all the time. He is a king, and yet, here you are. Talking all condescending and threatening, treating him like he's some pet that should be reeducated. The worst part is, that his dick has not stopped hardening since you start talking. You finish removing all his clothes and toss them aside.

"Now that we are even," You say, leaving the scissors back on the nightstand. Your voice sounds hypnotic and seductive, convincing Barou that even without a weapon it is best not to mess with you. It doesn't escape you that he isn't relaxed at all. His muscles are tense, his breath controlled, and his sharp eyes are focused only on you. It reminds you of a trapped animal, ready to attack whoever gets close enough. But you are not scared. After all, what is a king to a goddess? "Shall we begin?"

You brought your lips close to his dick and kiss him gently. You don't know exactly why, but you were kinda expecting that he snarl or something. Instead, he remain silent but his dick twitched in approval of your touch. At least he isn't putting up a fight anymore, so you decide to continue. You lick the tip, and pre cum appears immediately.

"Take these handcuffs off. Now," he demands but his voice doesn't sound authoritarian. Even Barou was surprised at how poor the impact of his words had. You chuckle and take his whole length into your mouth. A guttural groan escapes from Barou's chest as he hits the back of your throat. It was big for sure, but nothing that you can't handle. You sucked and bobbed your head at a steady rhythm. In no time, Barou was panting and groaning. When he tried to buckle in your mouth, you used your hand to anchor him to the bed.

"You, whore..." he curses but his words fell apart when you suck especially hard. "Fuck. Move faster," he tried to buckle again with no vail. But you comply and speed up your movement. Tears start accumulating in your eyes as his dick keeps hitting the back of your throat, but it doesn't bother you. After all, You're fascinated by how sensible Barou is. Every move you do produces a reaction: groaning, swearing, panting, even moaning. Your pussy was dripping already in anticipation thanks to all the pretty noises he's been producing.

But you haven't finished. You can feel how he is almost done, so just before he can cum in your mouth, you let it go and it spills his seed all over his stomach.

"YOU FUCKING BITCH," he's definitely out of breath, so you admire how he still can complain. "You're supposed to take it in"

"Says who?" you smirk and grab a towel to clean him. You can feel how hard are his abs, and lick your lips imagining letting him go rampaging now. 'Not yet' you remind yourself.

As you expected, his dick is still hard even after cumming. You supposed all the guys in the project have higher stamina than normal. That actually makes your job easier. After all, there is no fun in teasing a beast if they don't put on a good fight. You approach the nightstand again and chuckle when he jolts.

"It's ok, honey," you tease and grab a box of condoms from the drawer. Barou looks uncertain about why you are putting a condom on him. As long as he is concerned, they are allowed to do whatever they want with their companions, even cumming inside. Whatever helps them relax and release stress. A part of him wants to complain again, but he is curious. Genuine curiosity to know what you are going to do to him.

Once the condom is on, you position yourself on top of him and aligned his dick with your entrance. Contrary to how you feel, already dripping and aroused, you enter gently. His dick enters slowly, stretching your wall deliciously, giving you more pleasure than you could imagine. You have to use all your willpower not to moan out loud. Enjoying every inch with a tortuous pace for both of you, until he bottoms out. He expected you to start moving immediately, and a part of you want to, but instead, you stay for a few moments, savoring his silence huff.

"Now what?! Start moving!" he shouts. You are impossible to read and Barou is starting to understand that he is in no position to oppose your will, but he was feeling desperate. If only he could slam his hips into you. Fucking you like he wants. Making you scream and pay for all the disrespect you had caused him till now. The mere idea makes his dick throb inside you.

"Relax, sweety. You're going to like what's coming," You lift your hips slowly and sink in again at an insanely slow pace. He is thick and has no problem stretching you full, simultaneously hitting all your sensitive spots. It is a real challenge not to let yourself go crazy on him. And his enraged gaze looking directly at you didn't help either.

"Aren't you enjoying this, sweetheart?" you scoff, hiding a clear moan about to escape your lips. He growls at you, tensing every muscle once again trying to break free from the handcuffs.

"I can't cum like this. Move faster," his hips thrust instinctively, but you have him anchored beneath you.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I didn't even notice you were already in," your sarcasm couldn't fool anyone, but Barou was already so frustrated and irritated that he failed to see through your hoax. "I shall do as you say then..."

"You're gonna regret this," his threat is serious but you're not worried, after all, that's exactly the reaction you want. You speed up your pace a bit, sliding his cock in and out of you. While you are being careful not to let him know how much you're enjoying his dick, he has no problem expressing it. Soft groans leave his lips now and then.

Hearing him stimulated your twisted mind even more. You really want to break him. You want to hear him moaning more, crying, and even begging for you. Your pussy clenches around him and almost makes you slam your hips when he let out a pornographic moan.

"Well, that was really hot..." you tease, hoping to hear it again. Barou's ears turn bright red, giving away that he wasn't expecting such a lewd noise coming from him. "would you give me another?" your voice is soft now, seducing him to lower his defense and just yield to your wishes. But he hasn't given up yet. After all, he's a prideful man, and what use does his pride have if he succumbs that easily to a nice pussy?

"Why don't you take these things off me and I show you how it's supposed to be done?" your cocky smile almost makes him cum. 'God, she's so hot' he thought, not paying attention to how much his dick is throbbing inside you. Every time you stopped moving, his hips instinctively moved, trying to increase the friction.

You went like this for an hour, trying so hard not to cum or let him either. Just driving you both to the edge and back, building up his desperation for release. Finally, you feel he is already at his limit, ready to burst any second, you get off him and go to the nightstand again.

"What are you doing?!" you are pleased that his voice is not demanding anymore. He sounds desperate and frustrated. "Get back here! I was so close...!"

"I know," you cut him. You take out a magic wand from the drawer and sit next to him on the bed. "But it's not funny if we end things so fast"

'FAST?! WHAT DO YOU MEAN FAST?' he thought 'WE BEEN LIKE THIS FOR AGES' but he didn't complain out loud because his mind got distracted by how you start circling your clit with the wand and moaning out loud. It is a lewd sound. So beautiful that he almost forgets that you are not on top of him anymore. You make him see how your pussy drips out as you are easily reaching your climax. His eyes fixed on your cunt tightens around nothing.

Once you get down from your high, you return the magic wand to the nightstand.

"Now... Can you behave and do as I tell or should I come again alone?" He doesn't completely understand what it is. Your harsh tone and imposing order, or your naked body, sweaty for being more than an hour riding him, or your itching dick begging for some attention, or your beautiful eyes looking sharp and condescending at him. He really doesn't know why but you make him feel so weak and vulnerable. He feels so insignificant next to you, that he can't help to admire your silhouette as if it was the first time he sees a woman, and discovers they're terrifying.

"Yes ma'am," he replies, without a single trace of the jerk that he was at the beginning.

"Good boy," you say, situating yourself again on top of him. You turn your back this time, giving him an eyeful of your ass as you position his dick at your entrance. Without any warning, you slam your hips down, bottoming in one swift move. He let a loud moan out and threw his head back. You let out a soft chuckle.

"You poor thing. Did you just cum from entering?" Barou doesn't respond. His breathing was shaky and the red ears had come back. You replaced the condom while he was calming down. "You want me to continue? Or was it enough?"

"Please," was a strange word for Barou, but he didn't hesitate to use it "Please, just keep going" You smiled and continued riding him as he begged.

Now at a nice pace, your hips slam against his creating a filthy echo through the room. His eyes fix on your ass, as it moves up and down his length. Your skin feels softer, if possible, than before and Barou is definitely going insane of being unable to touch. He moves against the shackles, hoping to slide his hands to no bail.

"Oh, I completely forgot about them. Sorry," You made a weird movement without leaving your spot to uncuff him out of the shackles. "There..." As soon as he feels free, he grabs you and slams your body against the mattress. You don't try to resist, he is so much stronger than you after all, but it doesn't mean you have lost control over him. If anything, this was just the next step. You can feel every inch of Barou's inside of you, so desperate trying to reach deeper with every thrust. Thankfully, his hand presses your head against the mattress so your pitiful moans are muffled. He drills his dick desperately into you and you can hear groaning and moaning coming from him. At this state, Barou was definitely drunk pussy.

"You like my pussy that much?" you mock as if he isn't already having a hard time not cumming with every thrust. Your tightness is driving him crazy and every thrust is given with so much force that the headboard is hitting hard against the wall. You're sure you're going to hear complaints from Ego about damage to the facilities. But you couldn't care less, since you are also fighting the knot on your stomach not to burst. It requires talent not to let yourself go and reach your orgasm, but you haven't finished your job yet. Synchronizing with his movements and squeezing tight, you feel how his dick grows little by little until he bursts into the condom.

Barou isn't thinking straight anymore. His dick is sobbing already from the overstimulation, his muscles are exhausted from tensing for so long, and yet he hasn't had enough. He took his dick out to remove the condom and turn you over. Your body feels sore and tired but by the look of lust and hunger in Barou's eyes, you know he still wants to keep going.

"Can we go another round?" it was so out of character how sweet and attentive he sounded. His body is definitely ready to pound senseless into you but the way he is controlling himself reminds you of a dog waiting for his owner to reward it.

"Sure, we can," you agreed, and he didn't say anything else. He slides his dick on your pussy again and begins thrusting at an alarming peace. It is restless and messy. Your whole body is no more than a ragdoll at the force he is using. This time you don't try to hide your voice. Moaning out loud with each thrust, fuelling his frenzy.

It was too much for sure. He had no respect for your self being and you love it. It wasn't disrespectful like before, but more like he was not holding anything. He is showing a side of him that no one else has seen before. He isn't trying to control anything, not fighting against anyone, not proving himself to anyone. He is just focused on you and nothing else. He feels so free and powerful like never before, nothing can really compare to this sensation. Moaning your name over and over, he grabs your waist with enough force to leave marks on your skin.

Right now, you're clinging to the sheet for dear life, trying to tame a wild animal who has just reached ecstasy. Barou is high on you. All his senses dull by you. Your smell, your voice, your soft skin, everything is so incredibly overwhelming he can't take it, and yet he still needs more. He wants to go deeper, faster, longer... He wants to stay like this forever, connected to you. But he couldn't hold much longer and burst his load on you, not slowing down his pace but using less force to try to keep as much of his seed inside of you.

He collapses on top of you, hiding his face in your chest. You both have trouble recovering your breaths as you're still riding your highs back down. You use your hand to pet his head with long strokes on his hair.

"Good boy," you say smiling. He growls in response but his muscles relax at your touch, completely melting for you.

✧゜ﾟ°º｡✧｡º°ﾟ゜✧゜ﾟ°º｡✧｡º°ﾟ゜✧゜ﾟ°º｡✧

"Itoshi-kun, you have to calm down" Ego looks unbothered through the screen, but he is irritated at his own mistake. He noticed that the computer code changed during the software upgrade that morning but he didn't expect it to be a big deal. He thought it could only cause a typo or a missing number in today's schedule. If he had known it was going to release a demon, he would have fixed it at that moment. "As I already told you, it was just a computer mistake"

Surrounded by a wrecked room and a murderous aura, Itoshi Rin stared directly at the screen. If he wasn't on the other side of the TV., Ego knew his life would be in real danger.

"Where is she?" Rin's words are filled with a terrifying threat. He doesn't want any absurd excuse. He doesn't want an apology, compensation, or clarification. He wants you, and that's all. The mere fact that you weren't waiting for him, makes his blood boil in rage. And to think that you might be with someone else. He doesn't want to think about what he could do if he finds out who you are with right now.

"She must be just two floors below. I'm already sending her a message to come here," Rin cursed his training routine for the first time because if he hadn't taken so long to arrive at your room, he would have noticed your absence sooner and no one would have had the time to be with you. But that only makes him angrier to Ego.

"Bring her right now" He enunciates every word slowly and menacingly "if you value your life".

[sanguineterrain]

wait— i may have a thot for the pushed against the wall by steve scene

here, I imagine you’ve been teasing him and testing his patience for days, riling him up but always escaping him. and now, he’s reached his limits–

and so he’s pushed you against the wall, and he needs to keep you there, so he holds and pins your wrists by your head. he’s glaring down at you – with a bit of anger and frustration but mostly heat and craving in his eyes. they don’t look away from you even as he forces his leg between yours, and pushes his thigh against you. you whimper from the friction and the way he’s handling you, “yeah? you’re not going anywhere this time.” he draws back his thigh to rub it harder against you, “and we’re not done until i say so.”

Alix 😵‍💫💫 phew okay here we go— nsfw under the cut...

"Steve!" you yelp, stumbling over your feet. He doesn't yield, doesn't even let you get your footing, hauling you through your clumsiness like you're a rag doll.

His foot closes the bathroom door behind you. Your back lands on the wall and you tense, bracing for impact. But Steve's other hand slips behind your head, cushioning the blow. Your exhale is punched out of you all the same.

"This," he starts, voice thick. "This fucking little—"

The curse startles you. He tugs the hem of your lace panties, then mouths at your neck. You squirm, and Steve pulls back, breathing hard.

"Jesus, I can't—" His forehead rests on your sternum. He's panting like he just ran a marathon, even though a five mile wouldn't make him break a sweat.

"Steve?"

He lifts his head. Steve looks like he could eat you whole. You lift your hips, just to test the waters. He splays one giant paw across your belly and pushes you down. You gasp.

"Don't. 'Cause if you do that, then we're not getting invited back here for the rest of the summer, Y/N."

"What's gotten into you?" you ask, because you two never do this. Like, ever. Steve Rogers believes in good ol' fashioned bedroom loving, in the privacy of your own home. Not manhandling you into the first open door with a lock.

"This," he repeats, and bunches up your sundress. He cups your bottom with his free hand. You remain still, because Steve wants you to. You wonder if he realizes it, if the strength even registers anymore.

"You're so pretty," he sighs, nipping the side of your neck, like he can't get enough of you. "How'd I get so lucky to get a pretty little wife like you? All mine."

"Steve," you begin, then squeal, because he's hefting your leg over his hip, giving you no choice but to make room for him. Your legs part. Steve's gaze is dark with heat.

"Been so hard I can't think, and you're out there in your little lace get up, swapping knitting tips."

"I thought that's what you wanted," you whine, nearly straddled across Steve's thigh. His khakis are beige, and you're going to make a very visible mess.

He groans and kisses you, hand moving from your backside to your neck. Steve plasters more of his weight onto you, and now you're practically immobilized. The kiss isn't rough so much as passionate. Steve puts his all in everything he does, including kissing you. He pulls back and squeezes your hip.

"I know, sweetheart. You're so good for me, aren't you? Always listening, always following, taking good care of everybody. Bet you'd let me have you over the kitchen counter, hm?"

"N-no," you insist, because you're not sure if Steve's kidding, even though the image makes your ears hot.

"No, you're right," he decides, straightening. "You're mine. Not sharing you."

"Yours, Steve," you agree, and that ignites something in him, something baser, darker.

He's never had anything for himself. But here you are, trussed up because he wanted you to be. And you're underneath him, panting, probably getting his khakis sticky, because he hauled you into the bathroom. You’re pretty and breakable, pliant under his strength. Heat floods his brain at the thought.

“My best girl. You trust me?”

You squeeze his leg and Steve grunts.

"Yes," you promise, softly humping his thigh. "Yours, yours. Only yours."

"Yeah," he rumbles, taking your hips. "Let’s see what else is mine.”

[travellingarmy]

Ooff sorry this is my first time requesting and i checked the rules (i don't know if i miss something), can you write a continuation of the Yan!Lilia Vanrouge x fae reader? I mean i'm pretty curious of what happened after that. If you're not comfortable with the request you don't have to (^つωฅ^)

Stay safe and Healthy! Drink lots of water too!

Lilia Vanrouge x reader

Reader: Female pronounce/titles.

Warning(s): Yandere themes. Overuse of words. Abuse.

Word count: 6.4k

You don't need to read part 1 to understand. ^^

All rights reserved. Do not steal/copy and paste and upload it anywhere.

–

Note: Tldr: Reader doesn't get a happy ending. :]

–

Part 1: Sweet and Naive

║Lilia Vanrouge║ Sweet and Naive Pt 2. / Invisible Chains

Dark.. Cold.. Those two words repeated in echoes in your head for what you could bet was at least a hundred years.

You were as lifeless as a doll, not even a sound of rattle from your chains. Your body stilled from having given up trying to fight, which you bet was how he would like it. If someone were to see you, they would think you were a sculpture. But you were a beauty that even a sculpture can't hold a candle against.

Your eyes slowly blinked, revealing to no one of just how void it was of activity. Your eyes no longer shined like they once were and quite literally. You couldn't see a thing with having your eyesight been taken from you.

It was futile to hope to have your eyesight back. It was pointless to wish for anything in fact. He would never let you go and him taking your ability to walk or even use your hands was enough proof of that. He even went through such lengths to bind your ankles and wrists to the ground. Even if you could move, you wouldn't be able to go past the door before being yanked back by the chains imbued with his magic that would trigger if you try to escape.

Having known his strengths, you could only have an impossible, crazy dream of the young prince of the Valley of Thorns stumbling down towards this place for a visit and helping you out. You knew no one with strengths that could outdo him. Not even the brave soldier in that storybook you once loved to read as a child who slayed the scariest dragon could hope to beat him. He was second only to the monarchy's strength so in a way, he held supreme over even the strong, mighty creatures of faes.

"Little fairy, are you ready to talk to me now?" A sickening voice you were O' so familiar by now that you've grown to loath speaks just behind you, making the owner of the voice's presence known to you. You would have known that someone was there if you were still considered a fae. Without your distinguishable features of strong magic and being reduced to nothing but a doll, you were all the more average than a human who lacked awareness of magic aura around them.

You didn't answer. If you were to speak now, you would only give him hope of something– anything and you didn't want that. You don't want to see him become so giddy and happy that you were finally falling prey for his traps.

"[Name]." The room's temperature quickly drops by a few degrees thanks to him. His voice was quite stern when he calls your name. Him dropping your silly nickname meant he was about to lose it. Every visit he makes, it seemed that he was slowly losing his patience and sanity with you. "This has gone for far too long."

You can tell that he was seething with anger at your silence. Good, you thought. You hoped that maybe he'd just end your miserable life right then and there, unable to control himself any longer.

The steps of heavy shoes makes sounds as he draws closer to your form. Once you were at arm's reach, he harshly turns your face towards him. His face contorted– but you couldn't see that– and angrily said through gritted teeth, "Stop playing with me, little fairy. What is it that you want?"

What do you want? If he asked you that hundreds of years ago, you would have answered what was in your heart– to set you free. You wanted nothing more than to travel Twisted Wonderland. Now, you couldn't care less. If you answered the same thing as back then, you were sure that he'd ignore it. And even if he granted your wish now, there wasn't any guarantee that he'd let you out for long. He'll always know where you are and will bring you back to your cage when he thinks that you've had enough of exploration.

When you refused to talk to him he roughly let's go of you and stood up. He stare down at your form, seeming distant as he contemplates on something. Having released a deep sigh, he leaves you alone once more.

–

You thought it would be a long while until you would hear the door open and close again, but you were apparently wrong. You mentally sighed at the disturbance of your peace, and just when you were having a conversation with yourself in your head.

When the door shut with a loud thud, you were expecting him to speak. It's just been an hour, you think, since he left so you did wonder what he wanted now. Surely he knows by now that you weren't going to give him any ounce of your limitless time.

"Um, lady..?" Your stoned facial expressions changed when your eyebrows raised. Your ears picked up a voice that was not familiar at all to you. Who was here? You were sure that your capturer locked you somewhere that no one would be able to reach you or to know of your existence. So, who was this person that managed to pass by the great fae and make it to where you were, several feet high above in some tower?

Seeing your head lift up, you hear an audible gasp. "Oh! You're real!?" The soft voice of the person was something refreshing to you as you've never heard of any other voice other than your own and your capturer. But still, you noticed that the voice did not belong to an adult but rather, a male child. What was a child doing all the way here?

You hear light steps make their way around to properly face you. “What are you doing here, Miss?” You weren’t sure where he was in front of you nor how tall he was, so you looked up a bit and hoped that he was there and not an inch off. Your silence made the kid raise a brow. “Um, do you not talk, Miss? Or is it that you can’t talk?”

He squatted down to be on the same eye level as you and rested his face on his knees. You heard him ruffling around so you guided your head to where you assumed he was now at. “Hm, so you can’t talk? That’s a problem then.. Maybe I can get you paper and something to write with!” Their voice was so sweet like a melody and sounded as if it did not belong to a fae of the Valley of Thorns. It sounded so carefree. Befitting of a child of innocence.

Ah. Innocence. Something that you once were. You missed the days where you used to walk around the village and the surrounding forest, oblivious of the crueler side of the world. You were innocent– free of sins and a child of purity who was just a naive– “little fairy”. His voice whispered in your ears and you were disgusted by it.

“There’s no need..” You finally spoke. “You’ll just waste your time.” The softness of your voice caught you off guard, and also the child. You always sounded either harsh or devoid of life.

"Ah, that's good!" By the tone of his voice, you could tell he was smiling and it made you feel like smiling, but your facial features couldn't display it. You once remembered how smiling could affect others and make them smile but you couldn't. "So, why are you here, miss?" He asks again.

You wished you could tell him, but he was a child and something a child has that could easily be taken away was their purity and innocence and once that's taken, it'll never be returned. But one thing that comes with innocence is curiosity and curiousity is such a dangerous feat to have. You should know it as yours was too long, long ago due to being so curious.

And you worried for the child's safety should you tell. He doesn't want anyone to know.

Seeing your head drop to stare at your lap, the little boy could tell that something saddened you. In fact, when he first saw you, he noticed how your eyes didn't reflect the light from the sun that stared down at you. And though you did not know it, the sun was caressing your form that at first, the child thought you were an angel. However, something didn't sit right with him and concluded that you were a shell of what once was an angel.

"It's okay to not tell me, miss!" he says. "My father taught me not to push people to talk about things they don't wanna talk about!" You were relieved, not that you were going to cave in and tell him anyway.

"Hm? Oh, it's almost time for dinner.. Father is going to start looking for me if I don't show up.." he said after minutes of silence and him staring at you curiously. "But, um.. Will you be okay here?"

Now standing up, he looks down at you who stared at the ground with hands on your lap. "I'll be okay." With that, you hear the light steps of the child make its way to the door. He stopped and turned his head to look back at you with a hand resting on the door. He has questions he has yet to ask with a pitiful look but he knew that his father would worry if he disappears for too long.. Maybe tomorrow he'll sneak back here.

And that's what he did.

–

You never got to ask the boy how he got in but you were sure he'd never come back. With that in mind, you just assumed he was a child of another high-status fae who came for a visit. You don't know of your location, but you assumed somewhere beneath the ground. It was always cold in the room.. Or was it just you?

You were left to your thoughts once more before you felt yourself dozing off. The next thing you know, you hear the shy clicking of the door opening. Not thinking more about it, you continued to close your eyes. You didn't want to talk to him.

"Lady? Are you still asleep?" Hearing the soft, welcoming voice of the same boy from yesterday, your eyes snapped open and your head shot up. "Oh, good! You're awake." You hear him draw close to you before sitting himself down in front of you. "How was your sleep?"

Ah. Did you sleep? You were sure that he was gone for just a few moments. Look at you, not even being able to tell the difference between hours and seconds.

"It was.. Okay," you answered, staring straight ahead with a blank look on your face. "That's good to hear! Father always says that sleep helps you grow tall. But I always fall asleep at random times that I'm not sure if it's a good thing anymore."

You cracked a small smile without noticing it yourself. Not to worry though, your little companion did. "Oh! You smiled!" he pointed out happily. "You didn't smile at all yesterday– I thought you couldn't smile at all." His comment made you quickly drop your smile. You weren’t offended by the comment, but you rather not wish to be able to smile anymore.

"Aw.." You can tell that he was now pouting but you didn't care. "You should smile more, miss! It looks better on you." The comment made you feel bashful, though you remained stone-faced. It has been a long time since someone has made an earnest compliment. You’ve only had few the moment you stepped outside of the protection of your little village– Ah, but now that you think about it, you did catch glances of him looking at the person who had given you words of praise darkly.

Just how long ago did his possessiveness sprout? You were too naive at that time and you curse yourself for it. If you knew about his dark obsession with you, you would have fled, using the darkness of the night as your cloak.

“Hellooo? Miss, are you listening?” The loud voice of the child brought you back and you looked up from your lap to where his voice was. “Oh! I’ve been calling you and even waving my hand in front of your face, but you didn’t react at all.”

“I’m sorry. I was just recalling some things,” you said. And it’s not like you would have been brought back by the action of his hands. “What was it that you were talking about?”

“Mm.. I was wondering what you do here. You look kind of lonely, miss,” he said. “And what’s with these things?” You didn’t see what he was pointing at, but you were sure that it was the chains that bound you to the room.

“These..” Should you tell him? Should you not? How else are you going to explain this? Seeing your reluctance to speak, he tells you yet again to not worry about it and to just ignore his questions. “Sorry for asking a lot of questions.. Father doesn’t tell me much of anything except things related to the Valley of Thorns so I got curious when I saw you.”

“You look like a fae but to me, you look like an angel,” he said, laughing cheekily at his own words. “You don’t look like the faes from the Valley though so is there another kind of faes out there?” This child asks too many questions, one after another, you concluded. He reminds you of the you from back then– ever the curious one. You bit the insides of your cheek, feeling a bit sour of the current situation. It feels as if you’re now taking in the perspective of your capturer and looking at yourself through another’s eyes. But you knew better and won’t allow yourself to spiral into madness because of him.

“Yes. There are other faes out there,” you answered. “I am not a fae of the Valley.” At your confession, the boy lit up. “Really? Since you were from the outside, can you tell me what it was like?” You felt him draw closer to you with enthusiasm. “Father said that I’ll be able to go out one day, but I still have to become strong before that happens.”

“I.. Didn’t do much adventuring,” you confessed, a hint of sadness hung on each word. There was silence after that with a heavy atmosphere bringing burden to both of you. The child opened his mouth to speak but before he could utter a single word, his ears perked up to sounds outside the door. “Shoot! It’s time for my sword training! Father is going to find out I was here.. ” You hear him scramble up to his feet. “Oh! But before I go, I brought you some snacks!” You hear the sliding of a plate that stopped in front of you. “I don’t know if you ate so I got you something! It’s not healthy but it’s all I can carry without being spotted..”

After saying a quick goodbye, you hear him run out the door. You had no need for food and opted that starving your way to freedom was the only option at leaving this hell of a place.. Not that you could even do that since he would find a way. But you appreciated the gesture of kindness. It..

Truly, it has been a long time since you’ve felt kindness from another. You wished you were able to see the young child with your own eyes, but that only meant submitting yourself.

The next time the boy showed up was 2 days after the last parting, though you did not know it since time for you was lost. Since then, he would find a way to sneak to your chambers day after day.

Until one day, you were beginning to question this kid, feeling a bit guarded despite his open nature. You liked how the boy was like a breath of fresh air, but something did not sit right with him finding his way back to you day after day. “How did you manage to get back here?” you asked with a stern tone of voice one day. You felt much more comfortable to ask him a question of your own. At first, you had your reservations about him, thinking that he must have been sent by him to manipulate you so you said little or nothing at all.

"Ah.. Don't tell father this.. He told me not to go here but I got curious," he answered honestly. Right. He’s always talking about his father but who is his father and why is he here? Where exactly were you locked up that this child could easily sneak in? “He kept saying that this part of the manor wasn’t where I should be playing, but I always see him go here with things sometimes.”

Your head shot up to stare straight at the area in front of you, where you assumed the boy to be. His father.. He goes here often? Then that could only mean– “You know.. I started wondering..” The boy started to speak, his cheerful tone gone, and pauses.

“You can’t see, can you, lady?” Your head snaps towards your left, his voice now in that direction and closer to you. Since when– “Your eyes.. They don’t reflect anything at all.. And they always seem to miss me.” He crouches down by your side. “I don’t know a lot and only what father tells me, but I can tell that you’re sad, lady.”

“I, if that’s the case.. Then maybe my father can help–”

Your heart quickens. “W, who..” You gulp back a lumped in your throat. “Who is your father?” you ask, cutting him off and then silently pray that that one cursed name doesn’t befall upon your ears.

What came afterwards made your eyes widened and your face grew pale. You felt lightheaded as the truth came crashing down on you. “Lilia! Lilia Vanrouge.”

“Silver.”

Your heart stops and drops to the pit of your stomach at that all too familiar, sickening voice. “Father!” The boy with a name that you now know as Silver got up to his feet. Crimson eyes looked at his son for a good few seconds and at you who refused to look at him and have your back do the job.

Lilia’s eyes narrow at the sight and returns to look at his son. A new found anger towards his son that he didn’t think he was capable of. “Silver, I thought I told you many times not to step foot in this area of the house.” He didn’t raise his voice but was quite stern. “I’m sorry, Father.. I was just–”

“Curious?” Lilia finishes and crosses his arms. Silver’s head droops down and fiddles with his fingers. “I’m sorry..” The room was still. You couldn’t see what was happening and it only made you worry for the boy. That was until you heard Lilia let out a heavy sigh.

He uncrosses his arms and softens his expression. “Though I won’t let this matter slide, I won’t make you do harder training to make up for it,” he said which made his son raise his head in hope. “Now, go back to the main part of the house.”

“You’re not coming back with me?” he asks. “No. I will join you shortly after.” His eyes wander from Silver to you. Silver notices it and glances back to where you sat. “Oh! Right, Father..” He looks at Lilia with a determined look in his eyes. “This pretty lady wants to be set free but she can’t because of the chains!” he started. “Can you please help her? She looks a bit sad.”

Lilia blinks owlishly at his son’s request but said, “I will have a talk with her first.” You didn’t want to talk to him and cursed him in your head. “Now, go back to the main area.” At his words, Silver leaves the room after one more look at you.

Both of you said nothing as you listened to the boy’s footsteps slowly fade down the hall and waited in silence a bit more.

“Now, little fairy..” You shuddered, disgusted by his voice and him in general. “Care to tell me exactly how long you’ve been talking with sweet, little Silver?” He leans back against the wall and crosses his arms, a small smirk tugging at his lips. You ignored him like you usually do.

“Still not talking, are we?” You hear him sigh. “Well, no matter.. I can deduce it to be at least a week since Silver has been sneaking around the place.” A week? To you, those peaceful days felt too short but in truth, a week has gone by?

“Hmm~ It’s just been a week but seeing as how Silver wants to set you free, I can surmise that he must be really fond of you,” he said. “Kufufu, just as I thought he would be.”

You clenched your jaw. “Since you now have a wife and family, are you finally going to set me free?” you ask coldly but deep down, there was a sudden spark of hope. Now that he has a sweet child, why would he need you there? “Hm~? A wife? I have no need for one when I have you, kufufu.” He answers. “You know, Silver isn’t really my biological son.”

He isn’t? As if reading your mind, Lilia chuckles. “Did you really think that I would have any other lover, little fairy?” he asks, amused. “Fret not. I am a devoted lover to his one and only wife.” “Shut it. I’m not your wife,” you barked back through gritted teeth, feeling the small hope in you fade away as soon as it came. “Oh? I suppose you are right about that.. Well, that is not something that would become an obstacle. I just need to marry you, yes?”

You bit your tongue, not wanting to talk to him anymore. Lilia sighs once more and zips his mouth– only temporarily though. Sometimes you were like a spoiled brat, Lilia concludes, staring at your back, covered by a single, thin white dress. You look exactly like how he had remembered you in his memory. An angel, he thought. Beings of purity just like how you are and will be like for as long as he lives. He will never let you step outside to the tainted world of Twisted Wonderland.

“Silver..” He begins, changing topics. “He’s a curious, adventurous one.. Doesn’t that remind you of yourself back then, little fairy?” Lilia smiles fondly, recalling memories of long-past history while you bit the inside of your cheeks harder. You hate how he always brings up history, especially about your relationship. He talks as if you two were ever lovers and that you were at fault for the sudden tragedy of an ending of the relationship. “You were much so shy and easy to fluster. Kufufu. Ah, the cute expressions you’d make.”

“Shut it,” you snapped. You hated the ‘you’ from back then and cursed her. You two weren’t the same yet he keeps deluding himself that you two were. “Getting angry now, are we? It’s certainly been a while since I’ve last witnessed such a sight for myself.”

“Anyway, back to the topic.. Silver wishes to release you from your chains,” he said. “I can’t say no to my little boy.. After all, he’s been talking about wanting a mother. He did mention a certain ‘angel’ whom he wishes to be his mother.. I suppose that would be you, yes?”

You said nothing. As much as you have come to adore that boy, no way would you sign yourself up to yet another enslavement.

You hear his shoes clicking against the floor until he stops right in front of you. “Now, I suppose that since Silver has already seen you, it would be rude to not give you two a proper introduction,” you hear him say and before you knew it, you were forced to close your eyes shut to see darkness once more due to the sudden light blinding you, even using your hands to shield your eyes.. Wait–

Squinting your eyes open, you could see the sun’s light passing through the window. You sat there, amazed as you stared at the long-missed sunlight in front of you. You looked down at your hands. They were trembling and felt weird to you but nevertheless, you could move them. “Kufufu. O’ don’t you look so cute, little fairy.” You turn your head to the side and see the face that was etched into your memories for all of eternity.

His long, black hair with pink streaks that made him stand out was the same length as you remembered. “Oh? Miss seeing my face, did you?” You became hostile once again at his comment but he only laughed. “Now, up you go.” He unlocks your chains with magic and pulls you up using his indispensable strength.

Caught off guard, your legs wobbled. “Hm? Oh, I’ve forgotten that your body forgot how to work itself..” he comments, blinking once before a smirk adorns his lips as a shadow cast over his face. “No matter.” He puts one arm behind your legs and the other resting on your back and lifts you up with ease.

“Kufufu, aren’t you adorable,” he comments, which made you knit your brows in anger. You attempted to hit him with your strength, but your arms were too flimsy after just gaining the ability to move. He chuckles at your weak punch at his chest. “Put me down. I rather go back to being blind than to see your despicable face.”

“Ah, I’m afraid I can’t, sweetheart.” He chuckles, clearly amused. Crimson orbs reflected you and he couldn’t help but grin cheekily. Ah, you were always a sight to see. It always hurt him how you wouldn’t talk to him and opted to have your back facing him at all times. You, however, weren’t the slightest bit happy and didn’t consider this act as something teasing that you see your fellow faes back home do when they were a bit younger when they were infatuated with another.

Little Silver, just as told, got comfortable in the living room and waited patiently as Lilia emerged from the dark hallways that lead to your prison with you in hand. You realized that your prison wasn’t actually a cell situated hundreds of feet down the basement and was, in fact, just a room in an old part of the manor that wasn’t used. It wasn’t all that complicated to get there at all and easily accessible should Lilia not have warned Silver to wander in that restricted area.

“Silver.” At the call of his name, Silver’s ears picked up and he turned his head. When his eyes reached yours, it immediately brightened with a cute, big smile on his face. Lilia sees this and smiles as he sat you down on a cushioned chair to the left of the sofa.

“I was hoping that I could give the surprise, but it seems as if you’ve already met her already.” “Silver, come and greet your mother.” You cringed at the title and the way he spoke but before you could do so much as to protest, Silver hopped off of the sofa and ran towards you.

“Wait, Miss, are you really my mom?” He rests his hands on your white dress that Lilia had you wore, still very much clean due to him changing you regularly.

You didn’t say anything. You don’t want to play pretend with your capturer but you didn’t want to hurt the boy. Lilia knows what you were up to but said nothing. He knows his son very much to fall for it anyway. Children.. Such a wonderful creation in this twisted world, he thought to himself.

When you looked at Silver the first thing you noticed was his unnatural hair colour and his bright, pale-coloured eyes. Right beside that, your eyes widened at the sight of his ears.. He wasn’t– “Fufu, I forgot to mention, sweet little Silver here is, in fact, not a fae at all,” Lilia leans in close to your ears to whisper. “Isn’t he just adorable?” He gave a breathy chuckle before pulling back.

“Alright, Silver, your mother is quite exhausted so for now, why don’t you go outside to practice your sword training? Malleus will be here to visit soon so why don’t you show him what you have?” Lilia shoos him away with an excuse just to talk to you one-on-one. He’s sure you have things to say.

He agrees and left the room just as told and when he was gone, you threw a spiteful look at him. “Don’t tell me you kidnapped him?” You ask with venom in each word. Lilia’s face shows shock but quickly returns to his playful look. “Fufufu, do I look like the type to you, my dear?” He said as he sat down on the sofa. ‘In fact, you are one’ you cursed him.

You said nothing more to the man, though it was a challenging thing to completely avoid him later on due to him living under the same roof as you. But that was all to change, you thought. Now that you were unchained to a room by magical chains, you had an opportunity.. You just had to wait. Sure, with Lilia’s strength and power, he can cast a spell on the entire manor itself and bind you to it, but even you knew that even the most powerful of the Great Sevens couldn’t keep up with their own spell for long. Soon enough, they will grow weary.

If he were to do that, you just had to wait until he grew too weak. You didn’t think he would put you back in that room and it was thanks to Silver. You had to let Lilia’s guard down for an opportunity to come. You see, he’s always had his eyes on you whenever you strayed away from either him or Silver. Though you don’t see him when you went on your ‘little walk’ around the place to familiarize the layout, you always felt eyes on you.. Though your escape plan wasn't through some secret passage you'll find. There's no way you can outsmart him this way; you'd just be doing what he thinks you'd do.

"Miss– Um, I mean, mother, can we play together today?" Silver asks with an expectant look in his eyes. "I.." You weren't yet used to hearing your voice, let alone comfortable to use them but what were you supposed to do?

"I'm sorry, I can't right now.." Yes, now isn't the time. After waiting and planning, Lilia has announced that he'd be going to the castle to run some errands for the future king of the Valley of Thorns.

You immediately stood up from your seat and walked past the young boy. You were sure Lilia had put some sort of lock on the escape routes you inspected months prior just as you had predicted when he said that Silver couldn't play outside today. All those exits were locked so neither you nor Silver could escape.. All except the most noticeable exit; the main door.

“Mother?” You hear Silver’s confused voice. You really did enjoy spending time with him but he was not your son and this was not your home.

Making a B-line for the door, your heart thumped loudly that you believed that if people were around you, they would most definitely hear. The exit was right there. You were so close. You could almost taste the missing freedom you hopelessly wished for for the past hundred or so years.

“Where are you going?” The tug of your dress made you halt just a few metres away from the door. You looked down to see Silver, holding you tight with his small hands. “Mother, father said that you’re still sick and that it’s too dangerous for you to go outside.”

“We can play together in the living room while we wait for father!” He smiles, though his eyes that reflected hurt betrayed him. Father this. Father that. Why does he always call him that? He is a good-for-nothing man who played himself in a delusion of pretend-family. And you? When did you sign up to play the role of mother in this entire clownery of an act?

“Let go,” you ordered, voice lowering down a few octaves. “But father said that I shouldn’t–” “I said, let me go!” You roughly tug back on your clothes and in the process, push Silver down. At that moment, you were filled with regret and thought to help him up and apologize but– “Mother, d-did I do something wrong?” Tears started to form in his eyes.

Your jaws clenched. No. No, you didn’t, you wanted to say. You looked at the door behind– the door that would lead to freedom– and to Silver before choosing not to stay any longer. If he could survive in this twisted place, you were sure he himself was no good either.

“Mother! Mother!”

When you opened the door, your heart immediately sank down to your stomach. “Father?” Silver says, standing up and wiping his face. “I thought you were going to the castle.”

Lilia takes one look at Silver, his eyes narrowed at the poor sight before narrowingly further at you with the most disappointed and angry look you’ve ever seen him. At the sound of a snap that echoed around the area, you suddenly felt gravity pushing you down to your knees. You groaned in pain as you felt it crushing you and Silver was quick to run to your side. “Mother? W, what’s wrong? Father, what’s happening?” He looks at Lilia, pleading eyes begging for an answer. Lilia stayed silent, a deep frown adorning his pale face. You struggled to look up but when you did, under the moon that greeted a fae of the Valley’s day and bid them a goodnight, crimson eyes glowed far brighter than you. A contrast to the ever-dark kingdom.

“Father, please!” Lilia ceased his actions and the bright glow of red slowly faded away. You gasped for air. You for sure thought you would die right then and there when you felt a bone in your ribcage break.

“Silver, take this gem and go to Prince Malleus.” He hands Silver a green gem whose glow keeps fading in and out in the same rhythm of a heartbeat. “A teleportation gem?” “Yes. Go play with Prince Malleus and Sebek at the castle. Your mother is very ill right now and I don’t want you sick.”

Silver looks at you before nodding in agreement. “I’ll see you soon, mother.” And at the sight of faint green smoke, Silver vanishes on the spot. “What a wasted stone, really,” Lilia comments cooly and sighs but when he looks down at you, you knew you were going to have it worse now that Silver isn’t around to be a witness to his so-called father’s crimes. “Now..”

He grabs a fistful of your hair and yanks you back inside. You shout in pain and tried to have you be released but his strength was no match for a weak fae who’s been protected all her life in a secluded village.

When he got to your shared room– well, supposed shared room– he releases you once locking the door. “I really don’t know what to do with you, [Name].” “Is that so? Good. Then you should hurry up and release m–” A harsh pain on your right cheek suddenly dulled your mind.

You touched your cheek and looked at Lilia. He had kicked you. His eyes were unreadable when he crouched down to your eye level and harshly grabbed your face. “I really do love you, [Name], but sometimes you are too much of a brat,” he said. “I didn’t want to hurt you but bratty girls like you need to be taught a lesson. Do you understand?”

“You really hurt Silver there.. You don’t think that I’m stupid enough to leave you unsupervised, do you?” With his free hand he beckoned over a small, dark orb with an eye from behind. “I thought I could trust you.. But apparently not.”

“Heh. If you trusted me, you wouldn’t leave that thing hiding close to me,” you said but cursed yourself about not knowing he had a spy on you at all times.

“How funny you are, my dear. I knew quite well of what you were planning to do.” He presses his forehead against yours. “I know you, after all.”

You wanted to bite back and attack him but with nothing– not even your natural magic– you were as hopeless as a human. “So you wanted to escape, huh? Might I need to remind you of how dangerous it is out there?” You called bull on his words. The only monster around here was him.

“My dear, even if you were to escape, where are you going to go? At least a hundred years have already gone by for us.. Do you really think that your home is still intact today?” Your brows furrowed. What was his game here?

With a wickedly wide smile, he tells you, “Your village? All your family, friends.. Anyone from that village? You’ve already seen their end many, many years ago. He had a look of craze in his eyes. You felt another part of you die. What? When? “Do you remember our little game of tag, my dear? The one with a burnt down village as our playground?” That’s when it clicked. “Fufu.. So, even if you were to escape, where would you go? A magicless fae can’t face those monsters out there all alone.”

Your eyes started to tear up and Lilia did nothing to wipe them away. “You’re a liar!” you shouted. “Me? A liar? Fufu, now don’t joke around like that. You know I’m not one to lie– even as a joke. You should know that as we’ve spent so many years together.”

“And remember this.. No matter where you go, I will always find you.”

~♡~