#if not for me then perhaps for someone else

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

heyyy so like you are the only creator i fllw that can maybe write this...uhm like sukuna and insecure!reader that start making out and it gets heated and then sukuna takes readers shirt off and then his but when he wants to pull down her pants she stops him bcz she is insecure of her stretch marks but then he reassures her and they do it😭 I hope you will maybe write this and didn't have a stroke trying to understand this request 💓

- love anoo (i LOOVEE your work)

Unwavering

Tags: Sukuna x fem!Reader, insecure!reader, soft!Sukuna, trueform!sukuna, fluff, smut, unprotected sex, slight breeding kink, mdni, NO PROOFREAD SORRY IM TIRED.

An: I think this is a stupid cute idea 🥹 Thank you for trusting me and requesting anoo!! I really appreciate it 🫂

Sukuna’s a patient man. He had waited over a thousand years to execute a failing plan to take over the world. Now that he’s lost, he’s decided to take up other avenues in his life.

Learning to simply… live was hard. Sukuna’s a determined man. He needs to have a goal in mind in order to function. Whatever meaningless hobby he took up, he tried being the best at.

With his newfound free time, he also decided to try to live the slow life. He took meaningless trips to coffee shops, and he tried not to think about murder when everyone screamed and ran away from him. Maybe it was his 7’3 stature… maybe it was the extra set of arms… maybe it was the tattoos.

Everyday he was reminded of why he didn’t live this life in the first place. Humans do not accept him. They do not want him in their society. He was willing to bet that they’d almost rather him play the villain… Then, they could all shamelessly hate him.

Though, there was one human who didn’t run. The nervous barista gave him a shaky smile, and she politely asked for his name.

Sukuna was taken aback. This tiny mortal wants to know his name? Knowing someone’s name in the heien era was a privilege — not a right. He grew up and lived in a time before social media and phones. If you wanted to know someone’s name, you had to ask them for it, and they had to be willing to oblige you in an answer.

With your cute demeanor, Sukuna was willing to oblige you with his name. “It’s Suk-“ He stopped himself. That was a name that struck fear into people’s hearts. He didn’t want to be associated with that fear anymore, and the thought of frightening you actually brought him no joy. “Ryomen.”

You gave another shaky smile before you carefully etched his name into the side of a cup. For you, this interaction was terrifying, but you couldn’t afford to quit in this economy. So, you were serving a monster. No big deal.

“I like that name.” You complimented. It’s often a compliment you give patrons when you’re nervous… or when you’re trying your hand at flirting. Either way, you look back up at him, trying not to focus on the extra set of eyes. “What can I get you?”

Sukuna felt a weird shiver going up his back when you complimented him. Perhaps this was your cursed technique? Were you a sorcerer pretending to be a barista, so you could spy on him? The shiver wasn’t necessarily unpleasant… just unfamiliar. He didn’t hear much compliments from anyone besides Uraume, and Uraume’s doesn’t count. They compliment him for everything, including the way he breathes. He finds it annoying.

“It’s custom to give your own name when someone else has graced you with theirs.” He grunted, coming off much more gruff than he intended. He just wanted to know your name.

“Oh…” Your voice was soft, and you gaze away from the behemoth in your lobby. Was this some sort of trick? Some old myths and legends say that a name holds power. Would he be able to kill you if he knew your name?? You glance back over at him, noting his large muscled and incredibly toned chest that his kimono didn’t bother hiding. He was so fucking big. Your thoughts were completely baseless. If he wanted to kill you, he simply just could — regardless of knowing your name. “It’s yn.” You finally answer.

Sukuna nodded. “That’s a good name.” He realized that his compliment didn’t sound as personable as yours. It’s his first time though… He’s sure that he’ll figure it out.

“Thank you..” You respond as you started to contemplate what exactly your life had come to. You were having a semi-pleasant interaction with a monster at your job… Do you get paid enough to deal with this? “So… Ryomen, what can I get for you?”

Sukuna felt another shiver. He liked hearing your voice say his name. He wanted to hear it again and again. He wanted his name to fall from your lips like a mantra as he made love to you.

Shaking away those pestering thoughts, he finally gets to the task at hand. “Yes.. what is this.. coffee that you mortals speak of..?”

Oh boy.

*** *** ***

After explaining to the very skeptical monster what coffee was, you served him a cup with very little milk and sugar. Sukuna was delighted by the taste, and he was delighted with your company.

He made it apart of his routine. He woke up, took care of himself, got dressed in whatever Uraume had picked out from his closet, and he set forth to your coffee shop, where he’d hang around for hours — scaring away every potential customer.

He asked you all sorts of things, and you two got to know each other better. It was an unlikely bond.

It took him forever to finally kiss you. Scared of running off his one and only human companion — his first chance of living the slow life, he wanted to make sure you absolutely were ready and wanted that sort of relationship with him.

It led to some rather funny moments of you trying to kiss him, him getting confused and flustered, leaving you to feel rejected.

But when he finally did kiss you, Sukuna felt a sort of hunger that he hadn’t felt in his years of living. Sure, he has had sex before, mostly out of sheer boredom. Immortality isn’t what it’s cracked up to be.

But this, this was different. This was lust, longing, yearning. He wanted to make you feel good. He needed to show you how… happy you make him.

He had you sat upon his lap as he chased your lips with feverish kisses. Today would be the day. He’s going to finally indulge himself in your warm embrace and allow himself to enjoy on of the most human of pleasures: connection.

His hands were slowly rubbing your hips — trailing them up and down, feeling the beautiful curvature of your body. He loved every ditch and mound. He loved how you just fit against him.

His hands finally take a chance, and he slips them underneath your shirt. The skin-on-skin contact is nearly dizzying, and he feels almost embarrassed for letting a little bit of steamy foreplay get him so riled up. He can’t help it though, not when your lips taste so sweet.

Your shirt is promptly slipped up over your head, and he discards it to the side. His oversized palms slide up your tummy to your chest where he carefully grasped at your breast, groaning into your mouth as he feels the fullness and weight in his hand.

Though, despite his lust clouded brain, he didn’t miss the way your stomach flexed and tensed under his touch. Assuming you were just a big ticklish, he decided to ignore it.

His lips trail down to your neck, where he’s making mark after mark on you. Every mortal who dared to step foot in that coffee shop should know you’re not on the menu.

“Ryo.” You gasp his name so sweetly while your jaw tilts back ever so slightly. He’s never been a witness to something so pretty and pure.

His teeth go to nip at your neck, and his hands slide to your back, so he can free you from this contraption that dares to keep your beautiful breasts from his reach.

After a moment of trial and error (and a small giggle from you), Sukuna finally unclasps your bra, and his mouth waters when he’s graced with the sight.

He doesn’t take a moment for granted. Living the slow life would need to wait for a moment while he chases this euphoric feeling you give him.

His hand rests underneath the globe, and he flicks his tongue out over your nipple. For a moment, he wonders if his ministrations are more for you or him. His answer comes to him in the form of a breathy whine from you.

Clasping his mouth over the swollen bud, he uses his hand to toy with your other one. Your hands are entangled in his hair, weakly tugging as you let out those frantic whines.

He switches sides, paying an equal amount of attention to your other breast. He’s subtly experimenting with your body, trying to determine which of his tongue movements do you like the best based off the sounds that fall from your lips.

Licking and gentle sucks seem to be the winner. Personally, Sukuna would like to try biting, but you had let out this pained hiss when he tried. He quickly went back to his more gentle, loving licks.

By this time, his cocks were throbbing in agony. He can’t remember a time where he’s been this hard and hadn’t already decided to promptly handle it himself.

His hands fall to the waistband of your legging that hug around your hips, and he notices you tensing and arching away from his touch once more. He pulls away from your nipple with an obscene ‘pop’.

“Do you have a secret wound that you are not telling me about?” He finally prompts you, hands moving to your back where you seem more comfortable with him touching.

You shift just a bit in his lap from the sudden discomfort of the conversation. You figured this would come up at some point, but you didn’t know how he was going to handle it. Debating on lying to him and saying you are wounded, you actually end up deciding to tell the truth.

“It’s not that. I just…” Your eyes try to find anything else in the room other than him to focus on. “… don’t know if I am ready for you to see me like this.”

Sukuna’s face relaxes, and he sits up to eye you. “That’s an interesting choice of words, princess.” He casually notes before his hands go back to idly rubbing on your waist. “If you’d like to stop, you can just come out and say that. I think I can surprise you with my patience.”

You give him a small appreciative smile. Despite the coldness of his sharp facial features, Sukuna can say somethings that just instantly warm you to him. “It’s not that I don’t want this because I really do… Can we.. just maybe turn the light off when we…?”

His eyebrows furrow. If you wanted this, why did you seem so cautious. Then, it hits him. It must be his face and extra appendages. With the lights off, you can pretend that he’s another mortal man… that is very large and muscular.

“I don’t think dimming the lights will erase an extra set of eyes and arms, but I will do it to ease your worries, princess.”

Your eyes widen, realizing Sukuna had taken your request the entirely wrong way. “What-? Nononono- I don’t want to hide you.” You quickly scramble to get the words out, and Sukuna seems surprised when you cup his jaw so lovingly. “You’re perfect. I’m trying to hide myself from you.”

Sukuna blinks a few times, taken aback by your admission. “Why would you punish me that way?” He asks, not able to fathom why you would hide the most perfect thing he’s ever seen from him.

You’re rendered completely silent. Truthfully, you know why you don’t want him seeing you naked. You’ve seen the sight before… the purple and blue stretch marks that litter your lower tummy and inner thighs. You don’t want to tell him what’s making you so shy to the idea because then he’ll only notice it more. Plus, anytime you’re honest with yourself about the insecure thoughts, it feels like you’re one of those girls who fish for compliments.

Sukuna, while not very emotionally intelligent, is able to see the emotional turmoil you’re going through. His hands slowly move from your hips to your cheeks, and he holds your face to maintain eye contact with you.

“Do you know how long I’ve been alive?” He asks. His tone is warm and even. His red ochre eyes resting upon yours.

“No, I don’t.” You answer truthfully. You knew he was immortal, and he had lived a long life already. You just didn’t know how long that was.

His thumb tenderly strokes your cheek as he admires you. “I’m older than soap.” He quietly laughs. “I promise you… I have seen some things that you couldn’t fathom. Across all my time on this horrible planet, I have been with curses and mortals alike, and trust me mortal women put curses to shame when it comes to what’s downstairs.”

You let out an appreciative laugh, easing up in his lap. His lips crack into a small smile — glad he’s able to provide you with some comfort.

His hands engulf your cheeks. “You are the prettiest thing these hands have ever touched. Nothing about you could turn my gaze away. You have my word.”

“Besides, I think you may be a bit more put off by what my clothes are hiding.” He adds, piquing your curiosity.

“Oh? Is that right?” You ask with a cheeky smile that makes Sukuna’s chest feel all warm.

“If you’d like..” His voice feels like velvet across your skin. He speaks in a purr. “I can show you.”

Your mind goes completely blank, but you nod slowly, encouraged by his words. His lips reconnect with your neck, kissing right below your ear, and he moves his hands to your hips, guiding your movements to slowly grind against him.

You’re able to feel just how well endowed he is through the thin fabric of your leggings and panties. Every inch slides against you — rubbing and bumping against you in just the right way.

It quickly derails into another needy makeout session — as if you two are horny teenagers chasing each other’s lips.

This time, Sukuna undoes his own robes first. His philosophy is that once you see that he has two cocks instead of one, you’ll feel comfortable enough showing whatever you’re so afraid of.

Your eyes widen, and your head tilts a bit, causing Sukuna to chuckle. “Told ya I would win.” He smirked proudly.

“How am I…?” Your voice trailed off, not even knowing what to say — too embarrassed to ask how you’re suppose to take all that.

“Slowly and with a lot of prep.” He gives you a toothy grin, showing off his fangs. “Now…” His hands slowly dipped back down to your hips and the waistband of your leggings.

You tense up involuntarily, but you nod slowly, giving him permission. Sukuna lifts you off his lap, and he carefully lies you on your back against his bed — treating you like you’re fragile.

Once your leggings are discarded, your eyes avoid his — too scared of what he’d might think. You don’t even look down to see what you look like in this position, knowing you’d just end up turning yourself off if you saw the marks on your thighs and tummy.

Sukuna’s eyes rest upon your pretty cotton panties that are soaked and sticking to your cunt. His mouth waters from the sight, and he tests his luck, slowly removing your panties from your body.

Your pussy looks even more delicious than he could’ve imagined. His cock literally twitches from the sight before he gets on his knees at the edge of the bed, and he pulls you by your hips down to where he can get a good smell of your arousal.

He groans from your scent, imagining just what you’re going to taste like on his tongue. He wonders if you’re more of a moaner or a crier, but he snaps his thoughts back to your earlier hesitancy.

“What was there to be nervous about, princess?” He asks as his fingers can’t resist touching you. He teases your clit gently as he waits for an answer.

“I-“ You stifle a small whimper as you feel his fingers graze against you gently. After a beat of silence, you finally speak back up again. “It’s just… the stretch marks.” You mumble quietly.

Sukuna furrows his brow, and he looks down to where your inner thighs are, and he looks at your tummy. “What about them?” He bluntly asks.

You shift uncomfortably, wishing you could wipe his memory of it entirely. “I just don’t like how they look is all.”

Sukuna’s thumb slowly applies pressure to your clit, and he starts to rub in loose circles. “That’s stupid. Everyone has them.” He replies bluntly, his more rough around the edges nature coming out as he listened to you.

A small muffled whine comes from your lips, and you arch your back as you feel his ministrations. “What?” You ask, not able to grasp what he’s saying.

Sukuna smirks as he sees you start to lose track of the conversation. He leans into your cunt before letting out a warm puff of air from his mouth. He loves watching how your entrance tries to clench around nothing. It’s cute seeing how your soaking wet pussy thinks it’ ready for him.

“I said that’s dumb. Everyone had stretch marks. It’s a part of growth.” He reasserts as he looks back up at you.

“You clearly haven’t seen girls on the internet.” You mutter, but your attitude is quickly dispelled whenever Sukuna lightly spanks your cunt, causing for a wet slapping noise.

“No. I haven’t. I have no interest in looking at something fake.” His eyes glare at you before he leans in and gives your swollen clit a kiss. His tongue darts out, and he laps at your puffy folds. A groan escapes from his mouth from your taste, gently vibrating against your cunt before pulling away and returning his thumb to your clit. “There’s no reason to be embarrassed over such trivial things. The marks just show that you have grown, and everyone grows. That’s it.”

You try to think of a rebuttal, but your mind is so cloudy with lust that you can’t think of one. Your hips lift from the bed with a small whine — no longer wishing to focus on your insecurities. You even look down, not caring if you’re going to see the stretch marks. Your eyes meet his, and you give him a pitiful gaze.

Sukuna instantly chuckles as he knows what you’re wanting. “We’ll come back to this, princess.” He hums before he dives back in, gently kissing and suckling on your clit. If his eyes weren’t closed, he’s sure they’d roll back into his head from how sweet you taste.

When he feels your hands grabbing onto his hair, he lets out a small smug laugh before lapping at your cunt with his tongue. The wet sticky noises fill the room along with your moans and whines.

Sukuna begins to wish that he was blessed with two tongues like he was given two of every thing else, and that’s when he remembers…

His mouth is focused on your clit, licking, swirling his tongue around, gently kissing. He brings his hand below his jaw, and he presses it against your opening.

You’re briefly confused, but you don’t question him since he’s making you feel this damn good with his mouth. Your confusion is quickly whisked away when you feel a second tongue delving deep inside you.

“Fuck-!” You moan before quickly jerking your hips up, but his other set of hands holds your waist down while he enjoys his meal.

Sukuna’s such a genius. With this technique, he can make you feel twice as good, which means you get twice as wet.

His tongues work together, lapping and plunging to drink the most nectar from you. Your poor thighs are already shaking, and you’re a squirmy thing when you’re getting close.

Sukuna doesn’t seem to mind though. He’s so lost in your perfect cunt that anything besides the word “stop” would fly right over his head.

“K-Kuna… mmnnf! I’m gonna…. ah, gonna cum.” You warn, feeling that pit tightening in your stomach. He pulls you down onto his mouths harder, frantically devouring you as he hasn’t had his fill yet.

“Cum for me.” His words are deep and raw with desire. He pulses his hand tongue in and out of you quickly until he feels the way your sloppy walls constrict around him, making small squelching noises as you find your orgasm.

“Fuck-! Shiiiit~” You whine as your hips try to lift up, trying to escape all of the stimulation.

“Thaaat’s it.” He purrs as he watches his hand mouth do all the work. His chin is absolutely covered in your juices but he doesn’t seem to mind.

When your body relaxes, and you’re panting against his bed, Sukuna promptly removes his hand mouth before plunging two fingers deep inside your wet heat.

His fingers are so thick and long. He’s literally a monster. Taking two of his fingers is like taking four of your own. The stretch burns but in the best way possible.

“Ah-! W-wait.. too much!” You whimper, leaning your head back with a quiet hiss.

“Really? I think you can handle it.” Sukuna taunts with a small smirk before carefully pumping his fingers in and out. Your pussy is still so soaked, fluttering around his fingers to cause wet mushy noises. “I’d say she’s enjoying it.” He adds with a smug grin, referring to how noisy your cunt is.

You squeeze your eyes shut as you try to cope with how sensitive you are right after finishing so hard on his hand and mouth, but your eyes snap right back open when you feel his oversized palm grab onto your chin.

“Ah, ah, I want you to look at me, pretty girl.” He teases with a toothy grin. “Look at who you’re letting get you off.”

“Fuck..” You whimper as you try to lean up to kiss him, but Sukuna leans back and rejects you. He’s still such an asshole.

“You’re not getting out of looking at me.” His fingers start to piston harder, curling upwards until his bumps against that special spot that makes you see stars.

Your eyes cross as you grab at the sheets. No one had ever made you feel this good, not even you could when you touch yourself.

Sukuna’s just content drawing orgasm after orgasm. He loves watching you let go of all that worry you had, letting you focus on some of your most primal desires, and it does things to him knowing that you’re comfortable to do this with him — comfortable letting him see this side of you.

His cocks are still rock hard, pressed against his stomach as he feels how tight you are wrapped around his fingers. “You’re going to feel so good wrapped around my cock.” His voice is a low growl, fingering you harder as he thinks about what it’s going to be like to finally fuck you.

Your pussy is sobbing all over his fingers, damn near coating his hand in your arousal. He’s bullying your g-spot again and again, fucking directly into it to make you whine and cry out in pleasure.

“Yeah? You like that idea? How badly do you want me to fuck you?” He taunts, feeling the way your walls are constricting around his fingers. He can tell you’re getting close again.

“F-fuck!” You gasp, throwing your head back against the mattress. Your skin feels like it’s vibrating as your pleasure starts to build once more.

“That’s not an answer.” Sukuna’s other hand swats at your bottom, causing for a slapping noise to echo in rhe room.

“Badly! B-badly… please fuck me. Please!” You whine as you’re on the brink of an orgasm.

Sukuna’s fast. He removes his fingers, but before you have time to react, one of his cocks is sliding in, replacing that empty feeling.

Even with all that prep, it’s a tight squeeze, making even Sukuna growl. “Fuck. How can you be this tight?” His hands grab onto your hips as he buries himself to the hilt.

Your back is arching off the bed, letting out silent screams that come out as whiny mewls. The stretch is unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. Your spongy walls start to clench around him, pulsing as another orgasm is pulled from you.

Sukuna’s stuck in an awkward position as he’s too tall to fuck like this, besides he doesn’t want to move to ruin your orgasm, so he stays leaning over you as your body comes undone beneath him.

“Beautiful.” He groans, admiring your raw beauty as you cum on his cock. He’s truly never seen anything like it. You’re such a beautiful mess.

Your breath is shaky as you slowly come down. Sukuna sits patiently waiting for you to calm. His hips are beckoning to move, but he sits still, letting you get use to the feeling of being so full.

“Ah… hah.. fuck.. s’kuna..” Your voice is breathy, filled with utter need that makes his cock twitch inside you.

“Up you go.” He murmurs as he wraps his monstrous arms around you, lifting your body with absolute ease. He’s able to maintain full control over your body as he eases you down onto his cock carefully.

Your body is shaky, and covered in a sheen of sweat as you wrap your arms around his neck, hugging his body to yours closely. You two are connected in every way.

His lips press sweet kisses to your cheek and neck, gently nipping at your skin to give him something to focus on so he doesn’t absolutely ruin your cunt immediately.

It doesn’t take long before you’re squirming in his arms, trying to get whatever friction you can out of him. He chuckles lowly, “Careful princess. Don’t hurt yourself.” He purrs directly into your ear, breath brushing against you.

He slowly picks you up, until just his tip remained inside, plugging your tight cunt before he lowers you back down onto him like you weigh nothing.

“Mmm fuck… such a perfect cunt.” He growls before picking you up once more and lowering you back down. He loves the way your soft body feels against his, and you’re so warm. It’s unlike anything he’s ever experienced before.

“Goood girl..” He praises in a soft whisper. He’s not use to giving out compliments still… but he’s getting better. He’s been learning by watching your reactions, and this is by far the one that makes you blush the most.

“Mmph~ Kuna… so deep..” You whimper into his neck. He continues to move you up and down his cock, using you like a perfect little fleshlight.

The sound of wet squelches and clapping stays consistent throughout the room, and his other cock throbs from neglect - a pearl of pre-cum leaking out.

“Gotta give both of them attention, baby. I’m greedy.” He growls before slides all the way out of you, and he pushes his other cock inside instead.

They feel almost identical, except with different curvature. He was a little more forceful now, jerking your body up and down his length aggressively.

Your clit rubs against his pelvis, creating for the perfect friction. You grip at his shoulders, squeezing your eyes shut as it’s all just so much.

Your thighs were trembling, and you let out every cry of pleasure that bubbled in your throat. No way to try to gain any control in this situation — you’re forced to just take it and cope with the stimulation.

Sukuna grunts and growls with each thrust. One of his other hands that aren’t holding you up reaches up to grasp your hair, and he pulls it back — forcing you to look him in the eye while he fills you so full again and again.

Your mewls and cries only fuel the more primal side to him. His mind is cloudy — chasing that high, wanting to spill himself so deep inside you that you feel him for days to come.

He yanks your hips up, and he takes a moment before he carefully sinks you back down on both his cocks. Both of them are slick from your arousal, but you’re still so tight.

“S’kuna~! Wait- nnngh… fuck I can’t!” You cry out, holding his gaze with bleary eyes from overstimulated tears.

“Shhh.. you can take it.” He mumbles lowly. “You wanna make me proud, don’t you? Take it…”

It feels like he’s splitting you apart while he tries to push deeper. Your entire body is trembling against him, let out pained whimpers as well as pleasurable cries because the stretch feels so good.

He gives your poor cunt just a moment to adjust before he starts bouncing you along both his cocks. The way your drooling cunt clenches around him, smushing his cocks together while he ruts upwards into you, making him grunt with pleasure.

You’re a whimpering mess in his arms, already embarrassingly close to your third orgasm while both his cocks are kissing your cervix so deeply — both leaking with an unnatural amount of pre-cum to make sure your pussy stays nice and lubricated for them.

His hand pulls your hair again, forcing your eyes back up at him. “Look at me.” He growls in a demanding tone, “Look at me while I breed this cunt.”

All 5 of his red eyes focus on you — completely enamored by your beauty. Lost in the haze and heat, only a couple words could fall from his lips. “So pretty…”

As if on cue, he feels your gummy walls squeeze around him, and tears fall from your eyes as your brought into another soul-crashing orgasm. His hands continue to bounce you up and down, riding you through your orgasm before he pushes himself in so deep. He swears he can feel your womb.

Both of his cocks pulse inside you, pumping your abused cunt so full of cum that it seeps from the edges of your entrance while he’s still plugging you.

“Oh gods-! F-fuck…” You whimper as it’s so hot. Like, it’s genuinely so warm in your pussy — you’re almost worried. “Why..” You manage to pant out, trying to ask him why it feels like that.

“Shh.. shh.. I have no explanation for you, princess. It just feels that way.” He speaks lowly as he slowly sits on the bed, still holding your body in his lap.

He presses a tender kiss to your forehead, and he feels your heart beat against his flesh. As he holds you to him, he wonders that if he had a heart, would it be in sync with yours? Would you two beat as one?

[beloveds-embrace]

The Sandman clip/ tiktok audio of "you came" "you called" just screams ex boyfriend/husband TF141 when you call them late at night because some creep is following you home or you're in trouble

WAIT YES YOU ARE RIGHT

It’s almost an instinct to call him first before anyone else, even after breaking up/divorcing. You tell yourself you can’t be blamed- he is a military man and despite all the hurdles that left your relationship in shambles, he was dependable when it came to safety.

And right now, walking slowly to your home with a fan following you- that man had to be kicked out of your workplace, you can remember him- you need his safety.

Something in your heart twinges when he accepts your call on the first ring. Some things truly never change, do they?

“He- hey,” you whisper immediately, and now that someone is here to hear you, the fearful tears build up in your eyes and you are sure he can hear the shakiness in your voice. You don’t give him a chance to say anything for now, though. “I- I know that we- we are not together anymore but… god, I’m so sorry, someone is following me and I didn’t know who else to call, I’m so sorry-”

“Where are you?”

You tell him where you are right now, steps carefully slow but not too slow so your stalker doesn’t know that you are aware of him.

“Stay on the phone for me, yeah?”

“Okay,” you are still whispering, gulping. “Okay. Thank you. I’m so sorry again-“

“Stop apologizing.” His voice is softer now, compared to before. “I don’t mind. Never will. I’ll be right with you in a minute, alright?”

And true to his words, he does come to you soon, throwing his arm over your shoulder and glaring right at your stalker. You can’t see his face, but you know his glare has always made him look so scary. But once the stalker is gone, and you two are left alone while he leads you home, you can’t help but break the silence.

“…you came.”

He looks at you, the glare softening immediately. So many things unsaid, so much that had gone wrong and right in your relationship…

“You called.” Is all he says in reply, still holding you right against him.

No other words are needed at this moment. Though your heart, traitorous thing it is, wonders if it’s not too late to try again. Your mind vehemently disagrees and states he likely holds no feelings for you anymore.

His arm remains wrapped around you and he even covers you in his jacket.

…perhaps it doesn’t have to end this way.

[emmaelt]

Something that really has helped me is thinking about myself as separate from my brain. My brain is the one who struggles with executive dysfunction. My brain gets hyperfixated. My brain couldn’t shut up last night so I couldn’t sleep. My brain gets overwhelmed.

The thing with me, and perhaps this is all neurodivergent people too, is that I can do the thing but only if it is for someone else. When my husband is sick, I can take care of him, make endless tea, call the doctors. If it is just for me, it is an impossible mountain to overcome, but for him - I can do everything he needs.

If my brain requires me to put ear plugs in, I find it easier to explain to other people. If my brain needs a break, I find it easier to grant it for myself.

Separating the hard bits of my experience from the ‘me’ of it all has really helped. This post reminded me that I can start doing this with other parts of me too. I love learning new ways to help myself, I’m getting much better at it I think!

I don't know who needs to hear this, but if the phrase "self care" doesn't resonate with you, try calling it "system maintenance" and see if that clicks.

[iknowwhereyousnoozeatnight]

tennis

[g1rlken]

I'm so excited you're taking requests for Rupert Campbell-Black!!

Do you think you could maybe fo #15 from your prompt list about him showing up for the reader bc they don't have anyone else?

Idk if just love that trope and I think it works with him.

If you don't feel inspired by that one no worries!

Someone in the crowd

prompt15 Rupert Campbell Black x fem!reader

word count: 5.3k+

warnings: parental neglect, mild swearing, hurt comfort, FLUFF

AN: Ahhhhhhh ANON I love you this is my fav prompt I was initially planning on the same one anyways thanks for platform ing my Rupert obsession you’re the first one

The chronicles of the country side for a veterinary sciences PhD student included more than just animals, main reason she selected a university so far from the hustle and bustle of the city. Peculiar animals in their natural state, she came across more than just peculiar animals.

Trespassing loses its meaning for the engrossed researcher, she didn’t realise when she passed the forest to a private estate land whilst following the slow worm. The most advanced high end camera, that Rupert had only seen with those media folks and proper film production. However he assumed the girl in a camouflage jungle vest to be an intern in a tabloid firm, trying to prove herself to be ever so efficient to her superiors by sneaking in to his property for a few pictures. Too naive to realise he could sue her for all her fortune perhaps. Rather an amateur at her job perhaps, she was there to snap him yet her attention didn’t avert to him on his horse before he approached her himself, “Young lady” he cleared his throat sternly “You do realise you’re trespassing here?”

“Oh?” She looked out of her camera lens to the voice that called out her and in an instant she lost sight of the slow worm she was following. “Fuck!”

“And if you don’t delete the pictures and get off of this land right this second I will be suing you for all the jobs you don’t already have.” Rupert threatened, he truly misliked this breach of his privacy to no end. But because the girl seemed unskilled and gullible to her supposedly first job he felt he could let her get off easily.

“I’m not deleting any pictures I barely got two” she said with a heavy sigh, her eyes frantically searching for her subject within the grass again not too bothered by his threat. “And I don’t have any job as it is”

“Oh” he amused, getting off of the saddle of his horse to level with her, “are you one of those fans then? How many times do I have to tell you people-“

“What?” Her attention broke from her subjected reptile to the man this time, “a fan? I don’t even know you…”

“Oh right” he scoffed placing his hands by his hips, “surely you don’t.”

“I truly don’t. I was following my subject for today from the forest lands and I ended up here it was an honest mistake” she explained herself as she opened her camera to show him the pictures, they were all reptiles and not…him.

“You were following a snake?” He asked rather confused and somewhat intrigued as to what would bring her to this.

“It’s not a snake, it’s a is a legless lizard. Anguis Fragilis” she corrected the man, ever so casually as if it were the most common of knowledges to attain.

The man just burst into laughter letting go of the horse chain to contain it, his hand on his chest he could find the joke in the name and the scenario extremely comical. “You have got to be kidding me!”

Y/n felt a bit embarrassed as if she’d said the wrong name so she went through it in her head again and she wasn’t, wrong. It was perhaps like college again, info dumping on the wrong set of people who poke fun at peculiar passions. But the man seemed to be too old to be like those immature college kids who mock others so she was left rather confused “what is so funny?” She asked hesitantly, “it’s rather rare and native to this area we don’t come across them in the city…” she trailed off trying to fill in his boastful laughter with something to feel less uncomfortable.

“Oh is it now?” Rupert asked as his laughter subsided and he realised the girl was an enthusiast in a true fashion. He just found the name of the godforsaken reptile to have a double meaning to it, he thought she made it up but when she got awkward and explained further he realised she wasn’t joking. “My apologies, are you new here?”

“Yes Ive actually moved here for research, I’m studying veterinary sciences for PhD… ” she said still feeling a bit self conscious after he’d laughed like that.

“Anus Fragilis huh?” He repeated trying his best to suppress another set of laughter but he failed at it ever so evidently.

“Anguis…er-slow worm.” She cringed as she picked up on the joke that had him loosing his composure like that. Perhaps she judged him to act his age which he looked so fast. “It’s also called slow worm. I lost him regardless, so I’ll get going. Sorry to bother you.”

“No, no hang on a second darling” he said gripping her elbow as she attempted to leave but as she returned to face him again he left it just instantly. “Since you’re already here, allow me to indulge you in a coffee or so? It would be very disappointing if I don’t get to learn more about…” he wanted to say it, the joke. But the awkwardly offended look on her face of feeling small wasn’t worth it so he kept it to himself “slow worms and legless lizards”

“They’re the same.” She briefed him feeling his ignorance, the PhD aspirant did not seem to have time to entertain his indulgence. “Forgive me but I have to go, I’ve walked too far from my car.”

“Well then allow me to drop you?” Rupert offered with his usual charm which didn’t leave to phase a lot.

Not her perhaps, “It’s not that far” she said curtly. Packing her camera equipment in a hurry. “Thanks. And sorry for trespassing.”

Rupert watched as she hastily packed her lenses and the rolls. Just when he thought he could work on himself to not offend people on first impressions, he generally didn’t do so with ladies so perhaps this was a first. “I’m Rupert Campbell Black” He put his hand forward for a handshake, “Sports Minister.” He introduced himself.

She had both her hands full with her books and camera, which she could rearrange back in the bag to accept his handshake but she’d rather not so she just nodded shortly. “Yes, Mr. Rupert, so nice to meet you.” She said with half a smile, then paced away not even waiting for his reply.

“I suppose I’ll see you around?” He said with his usual grin but she was already pacing away back to the path she’d come from.

That is how the two first met. Not her most memorable nor pleasant interaction but surely intriguing for the minister. The next time he met her, late early evening at a cafe. It took a second to recognise her with her head down in a book but there was enough lighting cast on her against the window where she sat. “Slow worm!” He exclaimed as he approached her causing her to avert her attention from the book to him.

“You…” she trailed off however her tone didn’t match the same enthusiasm as his. “Hi.” She said as he gestured to the chair across her on her table, asking if someone was there but she shrugged and nodded “Please, go ahead” she said being polite, internally bracing herself for another awful interaction.

“I was hoping I’d run into you” he told her leaning forward on the table crossing his arms, “turns out, your little bugger is a frequent visitor of the stable sheds back at the estate.”

“That explains yeah” she nodded closing her book, the size of it gigantic and hardcover it made a small thud, “it eats slugs and snails, spiders too…”

“Wonderful aspect” Rupert complimented, under informed on the subject he didn’t know what to say. “Did you get proper observations for your research?”

“Superficially yes” she nodded, “I’ll run into more of those one of these days.”

“You can always just visit my place again…I would be honoured to help out a bright mind.” Rupert offered leaning back in the chair, unbuttoning his blazer.

“That is so kind of you, I’m very sorry for trespassing that day” she said it again, obviously not friendly enough with him to take him up on that offer.

“Well you could make up for it by telling me your name.” He shrugged as his lips formulated a smile.

“Y/n.” She told him. As the conversation progressed, learning more of him, telling him more about her research and the subjects she’d come across so far. For someone in a vastly different field he was such an attentive listener. She’d told him a lot, about the animals, her thesis, her lectures and sessions, being a TA, moving here.

“And what of your friends?” He asked her over his second cup of coffee in the same conversation because he wanted to keep it going.

“I don’t live on campus so I don’t have roommates to be friends with, then I’m a TA but everyone else is a bachelors and third year student. Had I done college here I’d have those friends…I do have friends from college back home but as of now it’s only my professors.” She informed him, very casual with it but as she formulated the picture in his head it seemed to be a rather isolating experience.

“And what do you do for fun around here?” He asked her to see if it was as isolating as he realised.

“Trespass estates.” She joked with a small giggle, but in truth she did absolutely nothing for fun because there wasn’t anything.

“Greatest hobby ever” he joked back. But as she didn’t follow up with another activity he realised that if he pried about it he’d just force her to admit she led a boring and somewhat lonely life. He wasn’t judging her, she was fresh out of college and had to move a whole place and seemed to have no friends here. Well except for him if she’ll have him. “Are you struggling?”

“Of course not. I love my work, I can easily afford rent too it’s not a problem.” She replied honestly, if only financial was all of her struggles.

“Don’t you think you’d save more if you lived on campus?” He questioned unsure of her choice to stay in a boutique flat in one of the most expensive neighbourhoods.

“My father wouldn’t allow it. He’s a bit of a tone deaf classist that way.” She admitted, rather casually.

“Allow?” He repeated, surprised. He didn’t know her precise age but by her educational status and the looks of it someone in their early twenties didn’t need their father’s permission on how to live.

“It’s just a bit complicated, he wants all of his children to take the right step that is work in our family business, his company. I tried, it’s soul draining and very unlike me” she sighed “So I just extended education.”

“To get far from him?” He perceived, perhaps not the way she saw it.

“—To explore my options. I don’t want to disappoint him when I can avoid it.”

“And is this the way to be?” He asked, his tone guarded and expression curious.

“Perhaps.” She replied, but on the inside she was so hyper aware that anywhere farther from the family business as all the way to be. She didn’t want to distanced from her father nor her family, she may not be the golden child but she wanted him to be ever so proud of her even though she didn’t walk on the road he chose for her.

“Your spirit likes the fight doesn’t it?” It was more of an observation than a question.

“I don’t indulge in self awareness that well” She replied with a bemused shrug and he just let out a low laugh that. And that was her first friendship in Rutshire. To Rupert’s likeness the cafe was another one of basil’s side quests but he visited there less frequently given the bar was his primary. Regardless, Rupert got him too. The prime customer and his newest friend, studied there most of the time because she lived close by and Rupert felt drawn to her company.

She had no other and he found her growing to be his favourite one. He fancied the conversations with her so much, in her absence basil teased him about it. This one afternoon, Rupert visited as his usual time, or perhaps y/n’s usual time which he picked up on but she wasn’t there. “The coffee can’t be that good.” Basil said with a small scoff, as he found Rupert with a disappointed expression in the girl’s absence.

“I’m just trying to reduce the alcohol intake” Rupert said nonchalantly, well aware he didn’t the caffeine he’d been consuming just for the conversations with her.

“I wasn’t talking about the coffee” Basil added with a devious grin hinting at the double meaning joke he was referring for.

“Piss off” Rupert rolled his eyes at the man with a heavy sigh of irritation sitting down at the table, rolling up his sleeves and facepalming. “This is her usual time to come and study here” he mentioned.

“Which you don’t let her do.” Basil said, the entire time indulging the poor girl in conversations and spontaneous outing plans. “She’d have to be extraordinarily brilliant to keep up with her courseworks with all the detours you put her up to.”

“She is extraordinarily brilliant.” Rupert briefed him.

“I suppose you’d know.” Basil shrugged leaning against the table where he was sat, “Does she have a boyfriend?”

Seemingly offended at the mere thought of that Rupert’s expression disgusted, “Of course not!”

“Of course not?” Basil repeated surprised with his affirm expression. “So you are sleeping with her.”

“I’m not sleeping with her.” Rupert emphasised on the word ‘not’ and it was probably the tenth time that Bas had asked him that this moment.

“Of course not” Basil humoured him mimicking his tone when he said that.

“I’m not, it isn’t like that with her.” Rupert tried to explain that to his friend who found that to be such a foreign concept. It was a very strangely unknown and unspecific feeling for Rupert himself too.

“You don’t want to sleep with her?” Bas questioned not believing nor understanding the prospect “she’s rather pretty.” besides he’d sleep with anything.

“She isn’t just pretty Bas, she’s beautiful, a bit too much even on the inside.” He paused “She is precious.” Rupert spoke with such genuine passion that basil had to lay off of the joke he was brewing.

“And what of you?” Basil asked, it was something Rupert hadn’t even questioned himself for well not yet anyways.

“What of me?” He answered the question with a question feigning innocence. Before basil could further explain himself, even though well aware that Rupert understood him. The bells of the door jingled announcing upcoming presence in the nearly empty cafe causing the men to turn at the voice.

“Hello-Hello, Gentlemen!” Y/n exclaimed in the most enthusiastic Sunday morning tone possible but it was a cloudy afternoon on a Tuesday. To Rupert she always sounded like a Sunday morning with her little giggles and all the mannerisms but today she seemed way more lifted with spirits.

“Want to bet a tenner she ran into a coyote.” Basil said as she made her way to their table sitting across Rupert whilst basil was still leaning against the table.

“I bet you a twenty its a pine marten.” Rupert said, he picked up on everything from their conversation. This week she was in search of that specific animal from her list or so, he kept track somewhat subconsciously.

“It’s neither” She said with a smile still plastered on her face as she sat her bag down to the side placing her hands on the table. “I’ve got great news, well not great but perhaps good, great to me.” She went in an adjective discourse and shook her head coming back on track “My professor submitted my thesis to this government honorary publications department and I’m getting an in-kind research grant!”

“The government is giving you money?!” Basil matched her enthusiastic tone leaning forward on the table.

“No, no it’s an in kind grant…as in-they present me with an award but the big thing is that I get policy access, lab space, government authorised datasets…” she explained further with her eyes so lit up Rupert wanted to bottle this warmth of emotions he felt in just seeing her happy like this and drink it like water.

“You are getting an award?!” Rupert said with loud earnest passion for her excelling. “Y/n! That is marvellous news!”

“You fucking genius!” Basil added further, giving her a side hug and kissing the top of her head, giving her hair a ruffle as he walked across the cafe, “this calls for a celebration!”

“Thank you” She replied with a toothy smile. Feeling very heart warmed. Then Rupert took both her hands in his, he looked just as lit up as if it was his award.

“My darling, you absolute mastermind. Your mind is a wonder, y/n I am so so proud of you!” He said, he didn’t have to reaffirm or reassure more so because out of everyone she’d come across, Rupert had been so supportive, a subject and felt so unfamiliar yet he’d reassured and let her know it so constantly that she’d always have him to be cheering so hard for her. “You deserved this!”

“Rupert, that is so kind! Thank you, seriously” she replied with a glint in her eyes he could feel coloured by. Just about on time, basil blasted the confetti cracker he happened to have lying around. He turned the open sign to closed at the door of the cafe and returned to the table, slowly she let her hands out of Rupert’s.

“Didn’t have champagne in the cafe but this should do” Basil said as he presented their table with a small cake.

“You didn’t have to close the place” y/n said with a small giggle as she saw the cake, a sign in red jam crossing out the name ‘Einstein’ and Y/n in its place. Classic Bas.

“Oh please love, I deserve this celebration.” Bas said with a dramatic roll of his eyes, any reason to not work was reason enough.

“Right of course since he worked so hard.” Rupert joked clearly forgetting he owed the man in staying the cafe for him to keep it open just in case y/n might come in. They kept congratulating her over and over again as the trio dug into the cake.

“So when exactly is the award function?” Rupert asked, it was going to be event of the week for him more than it was for y/n.

“It’s on this Friday, I get one visitor pass and my father is flying out to attend it!” She said, ebullient. It did irk him somewhat because he’d wanted to see her receive the award but he knew how much her father’s approval meant to her so he was happy in her happiness regardless.

“That is great news, what did he say?” Rupert asked keeping his disappointment for not being able to see her at bay.

“His assistant put me through in the very second call so he must really be impressed, he asked me about the function and he sounded very positive of it.” She told them about the seemingly brief phone call.

“You have to talk to an assistant to get to your fath-“ basil was quickly interjected with a small shove on the leg from Rupert to take a turn in that observation. Rupert didn’t want it to rain her parade, “It’s so nice he’s coming all this way.”

“He’d probably stay a day or two after that you should meet him!” She added, it seemed as if she was somewhat more joyous with the fact that her father was pleased than the actual award to her name. It was a grey line.

“I would be delighted to.” Rupert said, he would be. At least for her sake despite having his internal doubts towards the man.

-

The award function was an extremely formal event, you could barely tell apart the professors from the bureaucrats. Rupert could tell the difference easily though, he simply knew the later group, almost all of them. But he wasn’t there for any of those people. Taking his seat at the round table, next to the faces he knew very well but he was way too focused on the happenings of the stage to indulge in small talk. And then there it was.

The lady of the evening. At least for him, her research dissertation was called out and he recognised it was her turn before they presented her name as well. White shirt with several pins of animal welfare and her educational institution. Simplicity and grace, ever so precious. As she received the medal and the award plate Rupert clapped perhaps the loudest, standing up even. The stage wasn’t so far but she didn’t spot him because her eyes were searching another direction and the procession was short lived before she could avert her gaze.

Finally after all the names were done, she was free from the stage back to the softly mingling crowd. “There she is!” The enthusiastic exclamation caught her attention from her lost trance.

Adhering the man in suit with flowers in his hand, surprised and radiated expression, “Rupert?!” She was baffled and so relieved she didn’t understand the later feeling. She rushed to him, their distance getting closer as he opened his arms for her.

“Congratulations, darling” he said bringing her into a tight embrace both of them so joyous, hers was rather infectious. He easily lifted her from the ground out of glee, kissing the side of her face. “You were wonderful out there!”

“When did you get here?” She asked once he put him down and she pulled away yet kept her arms entangled with him. Enough to just see his face, “also how?”

“I’m an MP you thought I wouldn’t be able to get into a government function?” He amused, surprised she did not see it coming, perhaps she wasn’t expecting him but her reaction seemed as if she would rather prefer him. “I got here an hour before yours was announced.”

“I am so glad you made it!” She told him, the effort was so heartwarming to her. He’d came to an event which wasn’t initially his, making more arrangements to even get in for her. She didn’t want to voice it because he’d always reply with such a strange concern as if being loved more than to be sustained wasn’t optional, she wasn’t used to this concern nor sentimental support.

Rupert could tell her kind, wide eyes in a sort of turmoil of something she couldn’t figure out by even herself but he didn’t pry on it, “where is your father?” He asked looking around shortly.

“Oh he…he isn’t here. He could not make it.” She said with a small shrug, that is how casual his absence was to him.

“—How come?”

“Probably his flight, I forgot to notify him about our time zones or so. If he were skipping he would’ve called prior” there was a small hope tugging at her heartstrings trying to believe this wasn’t like the other times. “He would be here anyways, would just be missing the event.”

“I suppose” he replied curtly, being presented with two choices of either being truthful with her of her father’s harsh and uncaring constitution or hold the hope she held out for the man with her. None of the two seemed befitting to him. As the event progressed she introduced him to some of her professors and people that she worked with, he did the same with the other officials that he knew of. She grew tired of the socialising and asked him if they could leave the event, she wasn’t as tired as she was growing disappointed of a man who wasn’t even in the room.

Even though Rupert and her came to the event from a different place and were going back in difference directions it was a given that they leave together. At least to him it was, she’d just informed him she felt like leaving and he stood up in an instant. He was dropping her back to her place because she didn’t driver herself to the function. The two were walking, to his car in the chilly night with his suit blazer draped over her shoulders, flowers and his hand in her hand, he carried her award with her bag for her and a light hearted conversation. Serenity which ran away once they came across a pay phone call booth. “Do you mind if I go make a call?” She asked him, he nodded but he was well aware who that call was intended for.

Rupert leant against the phone stand with the small door of it open, close to her as she pressed the numbers inserting coins. Anxiously awaiting the other line to answer she replied when a voice answered “Hello, this is me, y/n. Did dad leave yet?” She asked, he hated to see her in such distress and was afraid the conversation ought to make it worse. “What? What do you mean—the event, my award he was going to be here for…like he promised.” Rupert could only hear y/n’s side of the conversation but he could pan out the other side, which wasn’t even her father just some office assistant. “Just let me talk to him…please…two minutes perhaps?” It was difficult to watch, begging for the scraps of her father to an assistant. After a few moments the call ended and she couldn’t even stomach the courtesy of a goodbye.

As she walked out of the booth he searched for her to meet his eyes, narrate to him the happenings of the call. “His plans changed” she said but nothing further. He could tell she didn’t feel like talking so he stopped walking and also held her back from the track, pulled her into his arms. Resting his chin on top of her head as he held her, enlacing his arms around her tightly. He could definitely stay like this for rest of the night. Even life? A small voice suggested and he quickly dismissed it as he was pulled back to her, she didn’t feel relaxed in his arms even though she hugged him back and her face so steady, he felt his shirt getting sprinkled with dampness, as if in smallest portions.

“Y/n…” he trailed off pulling away to confirm if she was crying, “are you crying?” He asked as she lowered her face so he couldn’t see it but he leant in her direction to see. “Hey..hey, it’s alright” he pulled her back to him letting her weep onto his chest as he ran a hand through her hair.

“I don’t understand why I feel so bad” she said through her tears, holding onto him like she would fall apart even more if he let go. Perhaps she would.

“It is alright darling just let it out” Rupert said as he continued to sooth her in his arms, trying to provide a present, grounding support.

“He promised me…” she trailed off crying harder, all those events where her father should’ve been present but wasn’t came back to her. Fancy dress competitions at school where the chauffeur that dropped her off would have to attend the show out of pity for the child, birthdays where he would have to be bothered a multiple times to come attend cake-cutting, evidently sad over a test but he simply couldn’t be bothered to ask his daughter if she was alright. So much life spent in I-promise-you-I’ll-be-there. So much disappointment and you’d think one would learn. “I just feel stupid-I thought this time would be different.”

Rupert held her face in his hands “look at me” he said forcing her to meet his gaze. “You are not stupid for what you feel, you are not at fault for someone so detached and irresponsible towards their own child.” He spoke whilst wiping her tears, “he will forever be an incomplete, deficient man for the kind of father that he is. But you my love are beyond him and how he treats you, you’re brilliant and kind and funny and you have a heart big enough to hold a planet. You are going to go so far, your suffrage of his conditional love and inflicted anguish will heal for the better. I promise you that.”

This was a better hope than the one she was always latched onto, hoping that he would change, come around for once. But letting go and a promise for a softer tomorrow seemed so much more beautiful. “But I am so tired”

“You have been so gentle through so much…you must have been tired too. But persevering is constant and you, you always do. There is so much life within you, those around you are infected with it, I know I am.” He confessed, he hadn’t voiced it out especially not like this even to himself but she was more than a lively feeling, more than a chase or a rush for attraction. No. She was life.

Such admission made her heart flutter, she felt the drumming in her ears and it wasn’t the anxious kind. This felt like a sunrise after a good dream, but she had no words for it because her eyes spoke enough and so did his that wandered down to her lips and back to his. Reciprocating the course of gaze when he leant forward, face so close she didn’t move even by the slightest tired of awaiting him to inch to the closest extent she caught a soft grip of his shirt, lowering her gaze right when he crashed his lips onto hers. She kissed him back and it felt heavenly, as the kiss deepened he felt like he had reached there.

Smiles glued to their faces once they pulled away to catch a breath, tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear he said “you are not the only one who’s won something tonight.”

“That means I’ve won twice” she said with a small giggle adding to his exaggeration that kissing her felt like a win.

“That isn’t the same.” Rupert corrected her, going in to kiss her again with a slower passion, taking his time letting the sweetness of it linger “for me this is centuries worth of wins.”

—

IVE SO MUCH MORE OF HIS STUFF COMING SOMEBODY SEDATE ME…next his enemies to lovers let me know if you want to be tagged

PLEASE comments are my fuel I am HUNGRY for validation please if you like this please please let me know

[alwaysthefool]

Dressed Up Treachery (x Sylus)

Warnings: none

Tags: f! Reader (pro trans blog), MC Reader

Synopsis: Sylus gets jealous and that’s never a good thing

You were in another room, getting ready for an event with a dress you picked out yourself. An off shoulder silk bell strap with the fabric reaching your ankles, dyed in soft colours and embellished beautifully, however needing to be zipped up from behind. You tried to reach it, but failed, eventually looking for your phone to ask Sylus to come help you, soon realising you left it in his room.

You groaned, holding up your dress on your chest with your hands, lightly taking footsteps to Sylus’ room. Before you could knock, you heard someone clear their throat behind you.

You looked back to see Luke, or perhaps Kieran, with a box of cufflinks for Sylus in his hand. “Oh, thank god you’re here.” You chimed. “Help me zip up my dress.”

“Uh…” The voice seemed like it belonged to Luke. “Are you sure boss won’t get mad at me?”

“What? That’s so silly.” You laughed. It was truly a small thing. You just needed help with a zipper. Luke gulped, setting the box on the table beside the door, and soon you felt a gloved hand lightly push your hair on your shoulder, and zip you up.

“I’ll give him these, thanks!” You said, referring to the cufflinks. Luke took a bow, and almost sprinted away. You picked up the box and knocked on his door, hearing a cold ‘come in’. You lightly came inside, seeing Sylus in front of the wall mirror, fixing his tie. Thankfully, it wasn’t positioned in such a way that you were visible, so you tried to sneak up on him.

“Terrible habit, kitten.” Sylus sighed, turning around to face you, his face breaking into a smile when he saw you dressed up. “You look beautiful.”

“Thanks.” You feel heat rush up to your cheeks when you noticed Sylus wasn’t looking away from you. You shied away, handing him the box. “Your cufflinks.”

“Help me put them on?” Sylus asked, opening the box and taking them out. You clumsily took the cufflinks, and his large hands, taking your time with it, discarding the box on his vanity. You could tell his red eyes were still on you and that made you a little conscious. “Stop staring.”

“Do you really expect me not to? Such a pretty girl, and she’s all-“ Sylus stopped for some reason. You were almost done with his cufflinks, so you looked up at his frowning expression.

“Kitten, why do you have my cufflinks in the first place?”

“Oh. I needed help with zipping up my dress, so I came to you. But Luke— well, at least I think it was Luke— was outside so I asked him to do it!” You spoke non chalantly, finally finishing up. You expected Sylus to nod in understanding and move on, but something was suddenly off about him. He looked irritated.

“You what?”

Sylus was not looking pleased, to say the least. His eyes bore into you, accusatory and hurt, as if demanding an explanation. It almost reminded you of someone else you knew. Your relationship with Sylus was inexplicable, something between business partners and actual partners, but you never actually addressed it. He’d never said it out loud, but the way he held you, looked at you, spoke of you, made everything confusing. He acted as if the two of you already belonged to each other without even a single moment that confirmed it.

Maybe this was it.

“It’s just a dress.” You rolled your eyes, stepping away to sit on the bed, but he held you back gently by your waist, making sure not to touch your skin. You looked up at him, upset yourself, thinking you did something wrong.

Sylus sighed, trying to appear less annoyed once he saw that look. “Next time, only ask me for things like this.”

You were about to say something to protest, but he continued. “Things like zipping up your dress, helping you put your heels on, braiding your hair… leave them to me, please.”

“Why?” You pushed, defying him still. You felt bad, he was being patient and gentle, but you wanted some clarity in that matter. You pulled away from him to sit down on his bed, playing with the pearls on the skirt of the dress.

“Because.” Sylus seemed to lose his patience as he moved to tower over you, his hands on either side of you. “These small moments with you are precious to me. I want all of them. I want them, and I want you,” He moved closer, his lips next to your ear, his hair tickling your cheek, “all to myself.”

There was none of that usual snark or teasing in his voice, it was just a pure, possessive, pleading tone. You wanted him to be more explicit, but only managed to let out a ‘mhm’ as he got off you, a pat on your head.

So that’s the definition you held on to, and the fact he wouldn’t take his hand off you for the rest of the evening, asking you your views on everything, making sure you didn’t drink too much, treating you with care and affection like never before. You could only lean into him, and accept all of it shamelessly, not even thinking about the eyes on you.

-x-

Bonus;

As you and Sylus retuned home, something felt amiss. “Hey, where’s Luke?” You asked Sylus, as Kieran took the keys to take the car into parking.

“He’s on clean-up duty.” You cringed hearing that. That was never a fun task.

“And for something he didn’t even do.” Kieran whispered to himself, stifling a laugh.

[thatonegirlondiscord]

somewhat relavent so I justed wanted to add on a personal experience.

I was born and raised in a mid sized city in Southern China but moved to America at the end of 4th grade when I was about 9. My elementary school was decently sized. Three buildings, a large courtyard for morning assembly, gym, and sporting events, and a small small playground located at the one of the corners of the courtyard. In other words, it was average.

I remember that one day in third or perhaps second grade my homeroom teacher announced that our school finally got a library, and it was such exciting news. Up till that point in my life I've knew libraries as the shiny building downtown where it was white and clean and nice and you can go there to buy study books for exams. It was a shameful thing if you read books that you have not bought or owned in some way so when my teacher said that you can go and borrow and read books from the library everyone got excited, even those who are disciplined on the daily for bad grades.

The catch however was that you can only do so if you are a good student or had "merit." And hearing it my heart sunk. I don't exactly remember what I did but I knew I caused trouble either earlier that week or earlier that day, and it almost definitely meant that I was not going to be given the elusive library card. She told us to put our heads down and rest our eyes as we had just finished the school-wide mandatory eye relaxation routine, and she will be walking around the classroom and putting the cards down on the desk of students who "deserved" the opportunity.

She then proceeded to place the cards on the desks of top students, the arts representative, the class representative, and those who generally did not cause trouble in class. I was dejected but there is nothing I could do. It made sense afterall, that the spot which could've been mine are to be given to someone else simply because they are better. I was bitter but there was nothing to be done. To my surprise however, my mishap earlier was somehow canceled out by my diligent sweeping of the floor (assigned chore) and I received a card in the end. All I could remember was that it's such an honor, almost comparable to a teacher praising you to your parents, and I proudly showed it off to my dad the second I got home.

It didn't occur to me until just this post that my earliest impression of a library didn't match with my experience at all. I loved to read and have been reading as a child, asking my dad to read the newspaper stories to me was our bonding time so perhaps I just took the fact that books are now free for me to borrow and read in stride. It didn't occur to me at all that children such as I who hasn't proved themselves yet were given free reign to use the school library as they pleased, and what a strange notion it is to realize it now.

I know my experience may not be uniform across China but I just thought I'd share it to give a more comprehensive perspective to op's experience.

...I had a guy come in today asking about how to get his kids library cards. I told him. He asked me how hard it would be for them to get them, and I said that all it took was their presence and his government ID.

He told me about how nice the system was here, where it was so easy to get a card; he said that there was a beautiful public library in Beijing that was top of the line and everything, but that the only way to access it was if you were a high ranking government official or a top professor or something. Instead, our library "serves the reader." His kids will be able to take chapter books home at no cost. He'll even be able to get books in Chinese here so that his native language skills don't atrophy.

I didn't even really know what to say, so I told him how to ask us to buy books for him that we don't already have so that he can still read them at no extra cost. I don't know how to shore up what it must feel like to know that there are books out there you can't read; I've always grown up with a good library nearby. It reminded me of working in my old library, though, where families who spoke Spanish were startled to find out we took any government ID with a formal address in town— even foreign IDs— so that their kids could get access to all of our titles in all the languages we offered.

Ah. Anyway, I hope you check out a library book with this thought in mind. I checked out the first volume of YJ98 today with that thought in mind. I didn't have to pay anything. I put it on hold, and there it was.

Edit: for those who struggle with reading comprehension; no, this patron interaction is not meant to represent the status of the Chinese public library system at large nor the country of China itself; this was my response to a random Chinese immigrant dad's anecdotal concerns as he expressed them to me, because the whole breadth of concern I'm responsible for while on desk starts and ends at recommending which library services would fulfill his needs. If you think he misunderstood or was lying about the status of public libraries in China, that isn't something I'm charged to verify before writing my thoughts and feelings about the patron interactions I was exposed through throughout my day. Expecting anything else is absurd.

Edit edit: Also, your library may not actually use Libby as the distribution method for their ebook collection. The best way to find out about how to access your library's ebook collection is to call them directly.

[persicipen]

₊ ˙ ⊹ . 𝓑𝒆𝒉𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒄𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒆𝒅 𝒅𝒐𝒐𝒓𝒔. NEUVILLETTE. WRIOTHESLEY ₊ ˙ ⊹ .

ৎ୭ — · · 1.8k ノ afab gn reader — inappriopriate use of work desk and work chair. semi public space — their office. no one is getting caught. petnames — love, beloved, darling. rewritten old post!

₊ ˙ ⊹ . NEUVILLETTE ノ

“Monsieur Neuvillette, if someone walks in…” You try to negotiate weakly, but his eyes are closed and lips parted, his hands resting on your hips, guiding your movements. He’s sitting on his chair in his office; you’re in his lap, riding him.

How did this happen? You cannot think of it anymore, mind hazy and compliant ideas flowing out of your mind in the rhythm of his pelvis colliding with yours. In the middle of the day, to perform such activities is beyond improper — who would even think of assuming that the Iudex is busy urging you to continue impaling yourself on his leaky cock?

Not even an hour has passed since you entered your workplace, and he already has you on top of him, bouncing on his thighs, moaning into his shoulder, trying not to get too loud.

He’s not helping, not one bit, whispering obscene words into your ear, his grip tight, his girth stretching you so wonderfully, his breath shaky and hot, his chest pressed against your back.

You’re slipping away from the realm of consciousness at the sensation of him so deep inside of you, rubbing confessions of love against your inner walls with each languid roll to match your weakening moves. You don’t care about the consequences, the potential gossip, or the risk of getting caught.

It doesn’t matter anymore. He is now busy with you, and you let him do it all simply because his touch is addicting and his shaft is hitting places that make your brain fuzzy.

Surely, there must be a way to ensure your privacy in his office, at least to a sufficient extent. His grunts are so manly, just a tone lower than his usual whispers, and his lips leave a burning trace on your neck. He must feel rather confident in this situation.

“They will not see. I don’t want to risk showing you to anyone else,” he explains softly, his warm breath fanning your skin and his fingers gripping your waist. “I have the most beautiful darling in the world in my office, and I am lucky enough to enjoy you. I want to do it at my own pace, without distractions.”

Your heart skips a beat at his praise, and you feel your cheeks getting warm, cunt clenching around his delicious girth at the thought of being complimented like that. Seeing how Neuvillette takes you so lewdly, the sounds of your bodies filling the beautiful room lit with the early noon sunbeams.

“Ngh—! I beg you, Neuvi—” you sigh, burying your face in the crook of his neck, feeling his heartbeat pulsing on your skin, your arms wrapped around his torso.

His fingers trace circles on your lower back, his hips lifting up just an inch above the seat to meet yours, the poor chair under you both creaking with every thrust as his cock reaches your dewy depths. He’s not going rough, but rather slow and passionate, making you melt under his touches, your drenched pussy twitching around him, welcoming him each time anew.

Perhaps unnecessary to add — quite obvious, if you reevaluate his personality — but he’s not the kind of man who takes you quickly. He prefers to take his time and savour every moment, making sure that you know what you mean to him. Not a hopeless romantic, not in this meaning, but his love language is on a whole different level than of any mortal, making you cry tears of ecstasy and pleasure every time he claims you in a similar manner.

“Good… You’re so delectable and outstanding,” he murmurs, sounding so tender, a distinct contrast to his previous rhythm, the change of pace unexpected but welcomed. “I will let you come soon, alright? Will you cum for me, beloved?”

He asks so kindly, like a gentleman brushing his lips along the shell of your ear. The combination of his sweet pleas — nothing that could even be called a dirty talk — and the endearments he uses to address you send shivers down your spine, making your toes curl in a rush of affection.

“Yes, I will. Of course, I will,” you answer, grinding against him harder, trying to find the perfect angle to reach the vertiginous peak of delirium.

“My pretty, pretty darling,” he continues, and his words alone send you over the edge.

You arch your back, moaning his name, riding out your orgasm on his shaft, trembling in his arms. His hands move down your waist and grab your ass, digging into the supple flesh. He keeps you pressed tightly to his hips, the tip of his cock nuzzling against your womb. Just once, a shy kiss to bring you to the finale as your fluttering walls squeeze his whole girth in spasms.

The warmth spreading from his groin and the pressure building announce the impending release, following not long after you. Neuvillette bites his lip, stifling a loud groan, whilst burying his face into your chest, like he’s seeking a safe embrace during the moments of the highest sensitivity. His hips stutter with spurts of hot, creamy cum spilling inside your pussy, filling you to the brim, dripping down his length as he tries to push into you for the last few times.

“Ohh, monsieur—” you weep, such a saccharine sound reaching his ears, when you try to lift yourself off his lap, too weak to actually do this and giving up to sink into his arm once again.

“Yes, my love? Are my words that much of a blessing?” his voice is ragged, a wee decoloured from the perfect tone, but smiling nevertheless.

₊ ˙ ⊹ . WRIOTHESLEY ノ

You accidentally yelp, the sound immediately causing the crumpled tie to be put into your mouth with force. But are you really sorry for breaking the promise of being silent? If disobeying only results in you being pounded faster and deeper by Wriothesley, the Duke of the Fortress of Meropide, where are the bad consequences?

Isn’t that exactly what you wanted to achieve, anyway?

“Shh, little thing,” he mutters, his voice a low whisper, a dangerous growl that sends shivers down your spine. “I told you not to be too loud. I would hate if anyone interrupted our little meeting.”

He doesn’t have to look at you to know that his words have their effect on you. He can feel you twitch around his length, squeezing him so tightly he needs to exhale deeply to control himself from cumming immediately after. The friction is so delicious whilst his cock pounds against your fluttering walls, sinking into the warm tightness.

The sounds of your sweet, debauched sobs are muffled by the fabric he shoved between your salivating lips, so there’s not much you can do about the overwhelming pressure building up from your underbelly. The very confirmation of your state are your juices creaming his balls and creating a wet patch on his thighs.

The Duke is a man of honour, more or less, and his promises are true. He told you not to moan, not to scream, not to beg for more, and here he is — pushing his whole girth into your needy hole in a punishing rhythm, pounding into you with all the force he has.

But, again, are you sorry? Not even one bit, especially when his pelvis hits the curve of your ass, the impact sending sparks of pleasure through your whole body.

However, knowing that he may leave you unsatisfied is enough not to tease him any more and to obey the only rule he has set for you from now on.

It’s difficult to imagine what it must have felt like to see you bent over his desk, picking up stamped documents, the perfect angle and curvature of your silhouette accentuated with the dimmed light. And now you are paying the price — the sweet, sweet consequence of your sultry subconcious teasing.

He’s been stressed, dissatisfied. On edge for a while, ever since that previous issue in the Fortress, and seeing the work piling up in the corner of his office wasn’t helping. Thankfully, at the very moment he has you flat on his working space, his cock buried deep in your hole, his heavy balls slapping against your ass, and everything is so much better. Well, nearing painful, the pleasure so intense, and yet, his strong, rough hands gripping your hips and forcing your body to meet his are the best feeling you could ever hope for.

Driven by lust, fucking you like his life depends on it, his veiny shaft hits spots that make your eyes roll back in ecstasy. He’s not a gentle lover. No, not even a bit. His breathing is ragged, his usually spiky hair now sticking to his sweaty forehead, his collar shirt soaked around his neck.

Alas, who can blame him? He’s been deprived of his daily dose of intimacy and finally getting what he desires. The sound of his hefty erection ramming into you fills the room, his shuddering thighs slamming against your own in a feral dance. One slip up, one tiny mistake, and he will leave you without a satisfying ending; thus, you try your best to stay silent, his orders still echoing in your head.

“Yes, lovely, just like that,” his praises are whispered right into your ear, his lips brushing against your feverish skin, the heat radiating from your bodies.

Wriothesley adores this sight.

The taste of your lips, the scent of your arousal, the vice grip of your pussy swallowing his cock, the damp sounds of your juices mixing with his precum…

It seems so trivial, as if your fucked-out brain is mocking you for even thinking about this. But all you can hear is his soft moans and curses under his breath, and all you can feel is him sinking into your warmth over and over again, splitting you open.

A broken man with his own morals, and he has his own way of expressing affection. Sometimes, it’s sweet and tender lovemaking, and sometimes, it’s rough fucking on his desk, and sometimes he will simply eat you out in the dark corner of the Fortress. Regardless, it always ends with your breathless voice telling him how amazing he was, and then the soft giggles once the adrenaline and the heat die down.

“Endure it just a little bit longer,” he purrs, and his voice sounds so raspy, his accent stronger, his words laced with addictive affection.

That little game of being quiet or getting caught by the people passing by — well, he didn’t lie about it, did he?

[nerdinabook]

One thing that erks me so bad is when people play off Peter Pettigrew as the lost puppy of the Marauders or write him as always off with other people or just simply not as tight knit in the group as the rest of the boys.

THAT IS NOT TRUE! HE IS A MARAUDER HE WAS JUST AS PART OF THE GROUP AS JAMES SIRIUS AND REMUS!

That's what makes his betrayal so heartbreaking and unexpected is because Peter was their brother, he also broke the law and became an animagus in 5th year because he wanted to help his friend, he also stayed up late at night creating the map with them, he also traversed the castle under the invisibility cloak with them. He was apart of them in ever bit.

His betrayal was so devastating cause no one saw it coming, he was probably there with Sirius and Remus waiting to find out the news of when baby Harry was born. He was probably dubbed Uncle Wormtail just as Remus and Sirius were Uncle Padfoot and Uncle Moony.

He was their brother and his betrayal was as blindsided and shell shocking as if Remus or Sirius betrayed James and Lily, perhaps even more because Sirius was suspected due to his Black family heritage and Remus with his Lycanthrophy.

They must have thought oh its definitely not Peter though, Peter is as loyal ad they come, he has nothing in his life that might pull him to the death eater, and depending on which version of Marauders lore you subscribe to Peter is possibly a life long childhood friend of James, grew up down the road always did everything together.

He was the last one they'd expect to be the snitch that's why Sirius told James to make him secret keeper and why James full heartedly excepted that choice. James never would've put the life of his wife and child in the hands of someone if he didn't wholeheartedly believe they would defend them as if they were James.

That's why it's so heartbreaking and that's why everytime I read a fic that plays Peter off as a clumsy guys that just wonders around them I get a upset because that's not who he was and I don't want to take creative liberties away from anyone else but in my fics Peter will get the character he deserves (so you can all cry with me when he ultimately betrays them).

Thanks for coming to my Ted Talk.

[vind3miat0r]

project meridian loop theory

oohhh boy, we're back with me putting on a tinfoil hat and yapping about theories again

this is, of course, about the newest Project Meridian audio, so spoilers for that!!

(putting everything under the cut because theres a LOT)

JESUS CHRIST. okay. thats a lot. lots to unpack here mhm yep.

okay guys hear me out: Asset is stuck in a time or a simulation loop

bear with me im about to get REALLY nerdy with this BUT

Star Trek: The Next Generation, Season 5 Episode 18 — "Cause and Effect" is a time loop episode. the entire crew gets caught in a time loop for about 27 days (but they obviously dont realize this until theyre out of the loop) the loop always begins with Captain Picard's personal log, and always ends with the accidental destruction of the Enterprise brought on by their warp core exploding due to being damaged while attempting to get away from an incoming ship that lost control of its direction

throughout the episode, each time the loop resets, the crew experiences intense deja vu, brought on by the fact that theyre reliving the same day over and over. theyre able to predict small events that happen (what cards come next in a poker game, Beverly predicting Geordi coming into Sick Bay, etc)

AND in one iteration of the loop, the crew figures out that theyre IN a time loop, and devise a method to avoid getting hit by the previously mentioned ship, which would set off the chain reaction of the warp core exploding

they do this method by using big brain science time knowledge that im too tired to understand, but basically the motif of the number 3 starts showing up in the next loop reset, and when the Enterprise is once again faced with only two choices to get away from the incoming ship, Data realizes that the reoccurring 3s are connected to Commander Riker (who has three pips to signify his rank)

(for context, in every loop where the Enterprise gets destroyed, the Captain followed Data's plan of using the tractor beam to steer the incoming ship away from the Enterprise. Riker's plan was to depressurize the cargo bays) Data follows through with Riker's plan, and this time the Enterprise doesnt explode (yippee!!)

you might be thinking, "Vinn, you just explained the entire episode to us. what does that have to do with project meridian??"

well, using instances from "Cause and Effect," we can compare them to some instances that just happened in "Something's Wrong"

— the second phone call could be an outside attempt to break Asset from the time/simulation loop

— Asset knowing who the Solitaires are despite not having access to information on them could be from another loop where James told them who the Solitaires are, and Asset remembering

— the phone at the end could signify the end/restart of the loop

— Asset's uneasiness about the Meridian in the beginning of the audio and their want to "seek approval" before entering it ( could be brought on by them somewhat remembering whats happened in previous loops)

— the first phone call (the one James picks up), theres some spooky ooky ambience in the background (could be that the phone is a conduit to the "real" timeline/world and only Asset is able to pick up on that??)

— when Asset and James leave the first room and enter a new area, someone on the PA makes an announcement for the Deltas. this announcement glitches, but James doesnt seem to notice, as he continues talking (i cant quite make it out, but it almost sounds like someone else is saying something?) (again, it could be interference from outside of the loop attempting to reach Asset)

— when stepping out of the elevator, someone brings James "the latest simulation report." again, outside interference/echoes from a previous loop perhaps trying to signal to Asset that theyre stuck in a simulation

— phone at the end also as someone saying "pick up" or "wake up," didnt realize until someone pointed it out. its very faint, but its there (again, could be someone attempting to break Asset out of the loop)

one thing that i find interesting (thats not related to the loop theory) is that James says the force in the Meridian "diverts demons away" and "breaks human minds" when usually demons are allowed through the Meridian and humans just. die. then again, we have no idea when PM takes place, so it could be normal if this is like,,, a good number of years in the future

uhh hashtag yeah. im perfectly sane guys :3

[paradoxf0x]

One of, perhaps the funniest conversations I’ve ever had:

Me: *explains double incision top surgery and why nipple grafts are necessary*

My dear friend, a cis woman: So do you get to choose whose nipples they are?

Me:

My friend:

Me:

Me: No honey, they’re my nipples. I do get to keep my nipples, they just borrow them for a minute.

My friend, absolutely delighted at this news: Oh! That’s good! I think it’d be a bit weird to have someone else’s nipples!

[multipleoccupancy]

Theo watched her as she explained, his heart breaking a little at the thought that she had just been bleeding out in her sleep. Perhaps he should have stayed in her room again after all? When the story of the night actually came though he was not exactly comforted by what she had to reveal. There had been a monster in the ward and she had been attacked but it did sound like her time in the ward had ended given Theo had been recruited. At least she had not gone back to the ward in the latest sleep.

He watched her as she pointed out he had apparently had the same scar, listening and even putting his hand over where it had once been much more visible. Of course it was over the exact same place as where she had seen him be bitten. His eyes narrowed a little as he started to put the pieces together too. She had travelled in time.

He sat still for a moment, unable to stop himself from casting his mind back to the ward. He couldn't remember Violet being there, not in that moment at least as he observed her carefully. His mind whirring away with possibilities, denials and the occasional flash of an image in his minds eye of something he was sure was meant to be safely locked away in his head somewhere.

"I don't remember how I got that scar," he said after a moment, rubbing his shoulder a little in both confusion and some strange grab for comfort. "You must have been travelling in time anyway to have gone to the ward, it's a long way off you being born." he said and offered a very weak and unconvincing smile as another image of a horrible jellyfish like monster with teeth and talons flashed across his vision, his heart starting to pound. "Maybe it happens to all Theos." Right? That was possible? But in the same place? It couldn't be.

He could feel himself starting to sweat, his muscles tensing as his mind started processing the information. "There wasn't a Violet in the ward with me, I checked the name on the drawing." He began, it wasn't 'Violet' who had given him that drawing, it had been someone else entirely, right? He didn't remember her but Violet wasn't travelling under another name... was she? A hand covered his mouth absently and he stared at her.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Violet blushed a little bit, embarrassed that her bedroom had been such a bloodbath. "I think I bled through my pajamas while my body was still asleep in the room," she explained, and then, realizing that this explanation was more cryptic and worrying than anything else, she decided to start with the beginning.

"There was a monster, in the ward. Some sort of... big jellyfish monster." That was the best description she could come up with. "It killed a patient and an orderly. We... we found it, and we killed it, but it bit me, and... it bit Theo, too." She looked at her dad, unsure how to tell him that he was Theo. "After that, the agent from the Program came, and he got Theo out of the ward. Then, the Horned One sent me home. I don't think I'll go back to the ward, now. I didn't travel when I fell back asleep."

She fidgeted with her ribbon, which she had plucked from her pocket, tying it into knots, and then untying it. "I'm ok." She was ok. Well, relatively ok. But all her sadness had washed away, now that she knew that she had not left Theo behind. He was sitting right here, next to her. He was her dad. "Mom... she said you've got the same scar as me. On your left shoulder. It's round and..." Another knot. "The monster bit Theo on the left shoulder."

"I think, maybe... I didn't travel to another timeline. I think I just traveled in time."

[may3505noods]

I bet having a dick inside would feel so warm, like feeling it twitching inside you and pumping loads of cum inside you, it's so raw and passionate and it makes my heart beat faster and my mouth (and pussy) to water just thinking about it. I want this intimacy, I want to feel someone deep inside me, I want to let someone in, I want to cry and tell them it hurts and it feels so good, I wanna be fucked stupid and make silly faces and be dumb and pretty and still be wanted. There's something so enamoring about letting someone physically be inside me, letting them feel my most intimate places and make me feel the inside of my body. Letting someone see me cry and moan and lose control, be vulnerable, it's so scary which is why it's so appealing, it's alluringly terrifying and scarily enthralling.

Rough sex is hot, perhaps because I want someone to force me to be vulnerable and experience these parts of me I do desperately try to hide (which is the reason a lot of women are into misogyny, it's how we cope), but fuck even if it's cnc or rape, the soft, loving sex with bits of humiliation and praise laced in it is all I want. Forcing me to be vulnerable is hot, but laughing at me while being comforting and loving anoit is more then hot, it heals something inside me.

For me, sex is all about intimacy, or in the case of CNC, forced intimacy. Even when it's dog/horse stuff, gang rapes, incest, or anything else like that, it's about being forced to accept and experience that part of me that wants closeness (and dick) but doesn't want to admit it.

Also I wrote this on one of my walks and I'm in public so I'm sure I have a log of spelling and grammar mistakes. Ignore them.

[queenshelby]

The Peaky Role (Part Six)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: Dad's Friend, Best Friend's Dad

Over the days that followed your intimate scene with Cillian, the distance between you and Cillian suddenly felt heavy, like a fog settling after a rain.

You did not have any scenes together over the next two days, and each time you caught a glimpse of him, a subtle shift in his demeanor tugged at your mind.

Cillian would smile at you still, but something lingered behind those deep blue eyes, a hesitation you couldn't decipher.

Every time you crossed paths, he glanced away, returning to his work like you were a puzzle he couldn’t quite solve. It was almost like he was trying to avoid you and you did not know why.

Cillian kept his distance from you during rehearsals, focusing intently on his lines or conversing animatedly with other cast members, drawing a thin veil between you. You respected his need for space, but confusion knotted in your stomach each time you saw him laughing with someone else. His behaviour made you wonder about whether your father and Nina may have been right, that perhaps you working together so intimately would complicate things.

He was your best friend's father and your father's best friend and here you were, filming some intense scenes together.

The lines between professionalism and personal relations, even if innocent, blurred, and you couldn’t shake the thought that maybe the weight of your sudden physical closeness affected him more than you realised.

Maybe he felt weirded out by having to kiss and touch you or maybe he thought that you were overstepping some invisible boundary together by engaging in these acts on screen.

“Hey,” you said one afternoon, spotting him by the services table as he poured a cup of coffee.

He caught your eye but quickly focused on the steaming mug, fiddling with the lid.

“You good?” you ventured, stepping closer, your heart quickening with anticipation.

“Yeah, just, you know…” He took a sip, glancing away. “Busy.”

“Busy or hiding from me?” you teased, attempting to lighten the moment, but his smile barely touched his lips and you quickly regretted the jab.

“Why would I hide from you?” Cillian's voice remained steady, but his eyes darted to the doorway, as if searching for an escape.

"I don't know, maybe because of the last scene?" you suggested while nervously playing with the hem of your shirt. "I mean, it was a little awkward, wasn’t it?”

Cillian set the coffee down with a soft thud and finally turned to you, his expression shifting from a hunter stalking prey back to a familiar, softer gaze.

“So you thought it was awkward?” he pressed gently, gauging your response.

You shrugged, the corners of your mouth twisting into a tentative smile.

“A bit. But I thought we did okay, don't you think?" you asked as Cillian ran a hand through his greying hair before letting out a soft chuckle that warmed the air between you.

“Yes. I think we did too,” he said, his tone shifting, a hint of amusement flashing in his eyes. “But I am not quite sure how our respective families will react when they see the footage.”

You laughed, the tension easing just a fraction. “Yeah, I can only imagine my dad’s face," you continued, shaking your head in disbelief.

Cillian chuckled, a genuine warmth spreading across his features. "I don't think I would want to be in the same room when the scene plays out because, honestly, I didn't realise that it would be so graphic," he said, shaking his head lightly, his expression somewhere between amusement and resignation.

“Did you see the cut already?" you asked with a hint of suprise in your voice, but Cillian shook his head.

“Not cut but, as a producer, I saw the footage," he replied, swallowing the last bits of coffee before leaning against the table, sighing. “I thought it was going to look more like a soft-focus kind of scene, but what was shot really leaves little to the imagination.”

You leaned against the counter, mirroring his casual stance. “I guess it is what it is, right? Just art, doing its thing. You should think too much about it."

Cillian’s lips quirked in a faint smile, but his gaze grew distant as if he were peering beyond the chaos of filming.

“You are probably right but I have known your family for a long time Y/N and I just don't want this or any other scene between us to ruin some longstanding friendships," he continued, his brow furrowing with contemplation.

“Cillian, none of this is going to change anything between us or our families because it was an act and nothing more," you reassured him, focusing on the sharpness of his jawline that reflected the light above you.

“I hope you’re right,” he said before he shifted his weight, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly. “Now, I have to go. I am glad we talked though," he said, his voice steady, yet something flickered in his eyes, a hint of vulnerability peeking through his facade.

In Cillian's mind, it was much more than just acting though as, what you did not know, was that, for the past two days he had wrestled with conflicting thoughts.

Cillian's attraction to you felt dangerous yet intoxicating to him, like standing too close to an open flame. The scene of you on top of him had ignited something in him he thought he could control, but it became harder and harder to do.

He turned abruptly, leaving you at the service table, feeling a mix of confusion and lingering warmth. You watched him go, wondering if you’d ever find out what really lingered behind those blue eyes as he slipped away into the crowd of crew members bustling through the set.

The warmth he left behind mingled with an ache of uncertainty, pulling you in different directions but, as the day wore on, you tried to focus on your scenes with the other cast members.

You had to focus and so you did. You finished your last scene for the week at around 5 o'clock and went back to your apartment to pack.

The early evening light filtered through the window as you tossed a few items into your bag—a pair of jeans, a couple of shirts, and essentials and, by around 10 o'clock, you arrived at the airport in Liverpool for you late night flight back to Dublin.

The airport buzzed with activity—a young family juggling bags, a couple bickering over boarding passes, and scattered travelers absorbed in their phones.

You looked for the Air Lingus check-in counter nervously, hating both flying and crowded places like this and, as you navigated the terminal, the familiar pulse of anxiety gnawed at your stomach.

You spotted the Air Lingus check-in counter and approached but, just as you were about to line up, you noticed him.

It was Cillian, standing two counters over, his hands resting lightly on the edge of the counter while he exchanged a few words with the agent, a brief smile flashing across his face as he spoke.

You took a deep breath, steeling yourself against the wave of nerves that surged through you.

“Cillian!” you called out, your voice cutting through the chatter of the airport.

He turned, his smile fading briefly, replaced with a look of surprise.

“Y/N!” he said as you joined him at the counter, the moment of unexpected connection releasing some of the tension that had built over the last few days.

“Guess we’re on the same flight," you said, shrugging as you tried to calm your nerves.

"Looks like it," he replied, his voice hesistant as you were called to the check-in counter next to his.

“Just my luck,” you said, forcing a light laugh as you handed over your papers to the agent, who checked your ticket with a distracted nod.

As the woman typed away on her computer, you stole another glance at Cillian and the way his brows knit together in concentration as he finalised his check-in at the neighbouring counter.

“Do you want to sit together?” the agent asked, glancing between you and Cillian with a raised brow.

Cillian hesitated, an almost imperceptible shift in his posture.

“It’s not necessary,” he said quickly, speaking at the same time as you, not matching your enthusiasm.

“Yes!” you blurted out, the eagerness escaping before you could filter it.

Cillian paused, his eyes widening slightly as the agent glanced between you two, a smile creeping onto her face.

“Yes or no?" she then asked as she leaned closer, waiting for a decision.

“Yes,” Cillian finally conceded, his lips twisting into a reluctant smile. "If that is no trouble."

The agent nodded and worked her magic on the keyboard. “There you go, seats 22A and 22B. Enjoy the flight!”

“Thanks,” you said, grateful for the small victory as you grabbed your boarding pass, the bright letters practically glowing in your hand.

Cillian fell into step beside you as you made your way toward the security line, his posture relaxed but eyes scanning the terminal with the ease of someone used to the attention that surrounded him.

Luckily for you both however, no one bothered to approach him for a photograph or an autograph, allowing you a few precious moments of quiet.

Eventually, and following some awkward silence between you, you arrived at the gate where people settled into their seats, a blend of chatter and the rustle of bags filling the air.

You found a place against the wall, leaning on the cool surface as you looked over at Cillian, who stood accross from you and put his way too expensive bag down by his feet. He removed his jacket, folding it over his arm with practiced ease, revealing a black t-shirt that perfectly matched his torn jeans.

"What have you been listening to?" you asked, watching him put his headphones away with a casual grace.

"As surprising as it may be, I've been on a bit of a Beatles kick lately," he replied, glancing your way, eyes softening at the casual conversation.

“Really? Which album?” You leaned in, intrigued as the atmosphere lightened between you.

“Rubber Soul,” he said, his voice steady, yet there was a flicker of excitement in his eyes. “I find there’s something poetic about it."

“It's totally underrated ,” you agreed, nodding enthusiastically. “The lyrics are so alive, like they really force you to think about relationships in a different way.”

"Come on, you listen to music that old?" he teased, a hint of disbelief dancing in his eyes. "Aren't girls your age more into whatever music is trending on, I don't know, Tik Tak?" he asked, causing you to laugh out loud.

"Tik Tak?" you chuckled, shaking your head. “You really need to update your references. It’s TikTok, not Tik Tak! And yes, I can appreciate good music regardless of the age of the tunes. A timeless song is a timeless song,” you said, crossing your arms, a playful defiance lighting your features.

Cillian raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Well, you’ve got taste, I’ll give you that,” he said, his voice drifting as he leaned against the wall, mimicking your stance and crossing his arms, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips just as, finally, the boarding call came through the intercom, breaking the levity.

“Now boarding for Flight 232 to Dublin,” the voice announced, echoing through the somewhat sterile airport space.

Sitting not far from the front, you found your seats rather quickly and, just as a gentleman would, Cillian offered you the winow seat.

“Please, by all means,” he said, gesturing toward the window, his expression a mixture of chivalry and teasing.

"No thanks. You take it," you insisted, giving him a nervous smile.

"Are you sure?" He scrutinized your face, searching for any hint of insincerity.

“Absolutely,” you replied, nodding firmly which is when he realised that you were anxious.

He studied you for a moment, concern flickering in those piercing blue depths. “You really don’t like flying, do you?”

You swallowed hard, fingers fidgeting with the edge of your seatbelt. “No, not at all. I’ve always hated it. The noise, the cramped space—it feels like being trapped in a metallic coffin.”

Cillian chuckled softly, but his eyes remained serious as the cabin crew prepared for take-off and, eventually, proceeded towards the runway.

“Just breathe,” he said, turning his body slightly to face you, his expression shifting to something softer.

“Focus on your breathing,” he repeated, his voice weaving through the murmurs of other passengers settling in. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

"Jesus, you sound like my dad when he gives one of these meditation classes," you said, trying to stifle a laugh, though the anxiety still knotted in your stomach.

Cillian’s lips quirked, his expression softening. “I may have attended a few of them," he admitted, a playful glint in his eyes. “The man thinks that breathing exercises can solve everything. But you know what? They actually help sometimes.”

As the plane began to taxi, the cabin shook slightly, the vibrations sending a jolt up your spine.

You squeezed the armrests, feeling the familiar surge of nerves clawing at your stomach.

“Just focus on me,” Cillian said, his voice cutting through the swirling chaos around you. “Talk to me about anything. Just keep your mind off the flight.”

“I don’t know what to talk about,” you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper, the weight of the plane’s movements making your heartbeat quicken and, when the plane finally began its ascent, the sensation of lifting off the ground squeezed the air out of your lungs.

“Anything at all. What’s your favorite movie?” Cillian prompted, leaning slightly closer, his breath brushing over your ear but, what you did next, suprised him.

You grasped his hand, fingers curling around his warm palm, seeking comfort in the pressure of his grasp.

“Y/N?” Cillian blinked, caught off guard as he felt your grasp wrap around his hand, his breath hitching slightly.

“Sorry,” you murmured, embarrassment flushing your cheeks as you glanced at him. “It just…helps. I hate this part and I don't want to talk, okay? Not right now," you told him and Cillian nodded slowly, his expression shifting from surprise to understanding.

He wrapped his fingers gently around yours, steady and reassuring, creating a small oasis of calm amidst the chaos swirling around you.

“It's alright," he replied, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a steady rhythm that felt oddly soothing.

The plane continued to climb, the cabin settling into a more stable altitude, but you still clutched his hand as if it were a lifeline in a tumultuous sea.

Once the initial turbulence passed, the sound of the engines settled into a steady roar, a low hum vibrating through the cabin.

“See? Nothing to worry about,” Cillian said, a calmness threading through his voice, the warmth in his grip anchoring you.

You nodded, but your eyes remained fixed on the screen in front of you.

The screen flickered with safety instructions, and you tried to focus, but your breathing came in quick bursts.

"Sshh, it's okay," Cillian said softly, squeezing your hand slightly. “You are going to be okay!"

You felt a warmth radiate from his palm, grounding you as the cabin ambiance began to calm, the chaotic whirring fading into a dull background.

“I’m fine,” you managed to say though the tremor in your voice betrayed your bravado.

"You sure about that?" Cillian raised an eyebrow, a hint of mischief glinting in his eyes as he glanced over at you , his voice laced with gentle teasing.

“Okay, maybe not entirely fine,” you admitted, biting your lower lip as you struggled between the flicker of embarrassment and the absurdity of the situation. “But you holding my hand helped a little.”

Cillian chuckled, his grip tightening ever so slightly as he let the warmth of the moment settle between you.

“Then I’ll keep holding it,” he replied, his voice low and steady like the rhythm of the engines and he kept up his word, holding your hand for the entire and, luckily, short flight.

Tags:

@sunbeamseas @saint-ackerman @oatmealisweird @naxxsstuff @amanda08319 @r-m-cidnah @elysiannook @cillshot @infireddabdab @tastycakee @harrysbestiee @lilybabe22 @adalynlowell @henrywintersdearestgirl @ietss @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @ryiamarie @axionn

@nela-cutie @futurecorps3 @delishen @nosebleeds-247 @thirteenis-myluckynumber @gills-lounge @hjmalmed @lost-fantasy @tiredkitten @sidechrisporn @smallsoulunknown @charqing-qing @hopefulinlove @aporiasposts @shycrybaby @me-and-your-husband @hjmalmed @lacontroller1991 @galxydefender @aporiasposts

@galxydefender @hunnibearrr @saint-ackerman @lunyyx @gentlemonsterjennie1 @ihavealotoffandomssorry @nadloves @lost-fantasy @nolucesn@mcavoy-girl @hjmalmed @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @blushykiss @tatumrileyslover @teawithsatanx @orijanko @rhaenyra4ever @xcinnamonmalfoyx @budugu @nadloves @kmc1989 @bloodybagels @obeyme4life @richiesgroupie @smailaway @sophiaaguirred @blondie-22 @leighla3 @meadows5 @randomcreator-09

[pinkydevil16]

Stepfather Daemon Targaryen smuttt pleaseeee!!!!!

Stepfather Daemon Targaryen x Reader

i do apologise for how dark this got as i don't think that's exactly what you wanted!

TW 18+ dark themes, non con, loss of virginity, blood, threats of violence, manipulation TW do not read if it will upset you

Y/n tried to push down her hatred for the man marrying her mother, her eyebrow twitching as he looked past his bride to stare at Y/n. His eyes not leaving her own as he kissed her making Y/n sneer at him before hiding her face. 

She pitied her mother, feeling so inlove with the man before her and yet Y/n knew exactly what the Prince was like. A man child.

Someone who threw his toys out the pram when he didn't get his way, and that was exactly what this was. 

Him getting his toys back. 

Y/n held her dress up as she walked out the banquet hall, sick and tired of the charade and wishing to be alone in her chambers. A sword coming infront of her as she froze, the heat of his breathe against her neck as Daemon circled her until his sword was facing the ground and his smirking face was in it's place.

"Y/n." 

"Daemon." Y/n spat as she sneered at him, her fists clenching her dress tightly until her fingers ached.

"Why are you leaving the festivities? You haven't even seen the bedding ceremony." Daemon's eyes were dark, his hair cut shorter after battle as Y/n glared at him and scoffed.

"I do not wish to see such an atrocity or i fear my eyes will melt from my sockets." Y/n practically spat out the last words as she moved to the side ready to pass him but his arm was quick to slip around her waist and force her against the wall, his body caging her in. Her face full of thunder and eyes stormy as his hand pushed her hair out her eyes.

"You should not speak so callously to me or i might have to punish you." Y/n pulled her head away from his hand and grit her teeth as he relished in her hatred.

"You are a despicable animal unable capable of any emotion but jealousy. Do you honestly not have anything else in your life but the urge to torment me?" His hand was quick to grip her chin before moving down to her throat and yanking her forward, forcing her to look up and into his eyes as he grinned sinfully. 

"I could show you a true animal. Perhaps after your mother is asleep i will creep into your chambers and fuck you until you understand who you belong to." Y/n's hands grasped him, trying to dig her nails in but as she felt the warm liquid spill onto her fingertips without a single twitch she knew he would have to let her go to be free.

"I suggest your next words are ones of affection and not an attempt to scare me off." Daemon tilted his head as he squeezed his hand tighter, watching her face become red and her nails scrape desperately to get him off.

"T-that would be lovely Daemon." As she spoke his grip loosened until he barely held her throat, running his thumb up and down the column of her throat with a sweet smile.

"I expect you to be ready for me then." Daemon let her go fully as Y/n held her throat and glared at his figure walking back to the hall, tears in her eyes as she tried not to show how fearful she was. 

Y/n slammed her hands on her bed as she squeezed her eyes closed and tried not to break down, her handmaid untying the laces of her corset as Y/n opened her eyes and stared out the window.

"My lady is everything alright?" Y/n just nodded as she fisted the sheet and grunted at the corset releasing her chest and waist, taking a deep breath before standing allowing the red dress to fall to the ground. 

"I am exhausted Marie, please leave me." 

"But My Lady your hair-" 

"I will be fine." Y/n snapped back as she grabbed a hairpin pulling it from her hair as she tried to undo the intricate bun, the pin stabbing into her hand as she yelped and looked down. Fresh crimson burst from the soft skin on her palm making her eyes widen before she smirked.

Daemon smirked to himself as he wandered the halls of the grand castle, a pep in his step that would look unnatural to those who knew him. Rounding the corner his smirk become wolf-like as her door laid ajar, candle light bleeding through the doorway as he creeped closer. His hand on the heavy wood as he pushed it open, the burning flame in the corner flickering as he entered, his eyes focused instantly on his prize. 

The door closed quietly as Y/n remained where she stood, her hands on the back of the tall chair covering her night dress, one hand tightened around a hair pin whilst the other gripped the fabric. Her eyes icy and accusing as Daemon stepped closer, the candle light glowing against the red fabric that covered his torso, his hand moving quickly and pushing his white hair back.

"You look ravishing." Daemon's words made her lips curl up into a snarl as he approached, her hand on the chair keeping it between them until he was only a foot away with the chair protecting her. Daemon letting out a small laugh as he looked at the chair and back to her eyes, silently mocking her.

"Do you wish to play this game because i am not above dragging you to the ground. Or would you prefer the soft bed?" Y/n glared at him as she kept her eyes on him, his hand now carelessly pointed at her bed, the same bed she had had since a child that felt so safe and comforting to her. He wished to steal that from her, to make her feel alone and helpless. 

"Do not touch me you insipid wretch." Y/n spat the words as she watched Daemon's face drop, the smirk he held now turned into a sneer as he grabbed the chair, forcing it out her hands and shoving it across the flooring with a horrid squeak. Y/n's eyes widening as she slammed a hand against his shoulder, her other gripping the hair pin as she brought it down on his chest, panic filling her eyes as she heard it pierce the skin. 

And yet he did not move, a small grunt escaped his lips and as she looked at him she felt fear course through her veins, could feel the ice cold run down her torso and seize her heart.  "That was not very nice Y/n." His voice was too deep, too calculated and far too terrifying for Y/n to be able to do anything as his hand clamped down her own and yanked the hairpin from his chest. Squeezing her hand until she cried out and dropped the hair pin, her knuckles cracking and fingers aching as he glared down at her.

"Stop." She could feel red hot tears flow from her eyes as she begged, her other hand on his shoulder keeping her steady as she watched him squeeze her hand to the brink of breaking. His eyes sizing her up before throwing her hand from his, grabbing her throat within the second and tilting her head to meet his own.

"You are testing my patience." Daemon's words were pushed through gritted teeth as he walked Y/n backwards, her hands reaching out for anything. Daemon pushed her harshly backwards, her throat burning as she coughed and spluttered, her body landing like a log on the bed. Scrambling to move as she clawed at the bedding, barely on her knees when his hand grabbed the back of her night dress yanking her backwards as she cried out. Her hands gripping the bedding as he forced her to kneel, his front against her back as his hand travelled up and tangled in her hair. His fingertips gripping the roots making her yelp in pain and clutch his hand, her elbows pointed upwards and back arched to alleviate the pressure on her skull. 

"I went through too much trouble and killed far too many pathetic men for you to be such a brat." His voice echoed in her skull as he yanked on her hair to show his point, his lips next to her ear as he laid a kiss beneath it, a moan escaping his lips at the feel of her skin.

"Now, apologise." His words punctuated by a bite on her neck and his nails scraping her head. Y/n trembled as she squeezed her eyes closed in pain and gasped at his teeth marring her skin.

"No...leave me be." Y/n tried to find her voice but it came out hoarse with her vocal cords rumbling from the bruise forming across her skin. Daemon chuckled darkly against her neck, his other hand sliding around her waist and up her sternum, her own hand rushing to his. Her eyes open and staring at the ceiling as tears welled in her eyes, one hand gripping his own in her hair whilst the other tried to push his hand away from her breasts but she could not stop him. His hand roughly gripped her right breast, the thin fabric of her night gown, her legs shaking from holding herself up as her body went into shock. His calloused hand squeezed and pressing against her breast and she whimpered in pain, his head pressed into the crook of her neck.

"I am going to give you until the count of three to say sorry before i punish you." 

"One." His fingers twisted her nipple and his had dug into her breast, mouth open and teeth ripping at the skin of her neck as he bit down. Y/n crying out as her head was pulled back to make her stare directly above her. 

"Two." Her night dress ripped as his hand yanked down, fresh tears running down her face, dripping from her chin and onto her bare chest as he dragged his hand down further until her dress hung off her shoulders and pooled around her thighs. Her legs spread as she tried to change her position but she had no advantage, his hand making goosebumps arise on her skin as he passed her cunt and gripped her inner thigh with a bruising grasp. His mouth trailing down her arm as her hand gripped his wrist to try to pull him away. Her mouth hung open and panting as his hand pulled her head further back, her throat stretching and the skin burning with pain. 

"Last chance." His voice sounded far away as Y/n cried harder, trying to shake her head but the grip on her hair was brutal.

"Fuck you." Her voice broke as she continued crying, refusing to submit to him. Daemon smirking against her arm as he bit down, feeling his teeth pierce her skin and sweet blood to prick to the surface and onto his tongue.

"Three." His voice was muffled by her skin as his hand rushed up her thigh and two fingers thrust into her cunt, a loud scream coming from her mouth before his hand left her hair and clamped down on her lips, sobs wracking her body as he curled his fingers and brutally pulled them out. Laughing as he looked at his fingers, sitting up and putting them near her eyes as he watched her tears soak his hand.

"Look at that. I said Look!" Daemon screamed in Y/n's ears as she tried to look away, his grip on her face bordering on breaking her jaw as he pulled her face back, Y/n's eyes wide open and blown out from pure terror.

"Good girl." Y/n cried harder at his praise, despising how he spoke so softly.

"That is what determines your worth, and now. Now you are worthless, nothing but a burden to this family a hole for anyone to take." Y/n sobbed against his hand as he moved his fingers, the blood coating it moving around as he ran his thumb over his forefinger. Her hand raising and trying to push the bloodied hand away. Daemon grabbing her wrist and twisted her arm behind her back, hearing it crack as she screamed against his hand, his fingers coated in her tears and spit as she panted in pain.

"All because you don't have a cock." Her hand pressed against his as he wrapped his hand fully around her own and gripped his cock, a deep moan coming from the back of his throat as he closed his eyes. Y/n shaking as she tried to pull her hand away, feeling blood trickle from her cunt as waves of pain lapped at her body. Daemon opened his eyes with a sigh and released her hand, pressing his hand to her back as he removed the hand on her face her body falling forward as she clutched at her bedding and buried her face against it. 

"You cry an awful lot for someone who stabbed me. Did you not think i would do anything to harm you?" Daemon mocked Y/n, a chuckle coming from his chest as he watched her curl into herself, her hand shaking as she shook her head and cried into the sheets. 

"Turn on your back and show me your cunt and i might make it feel better." Y/n continued shaking her head as she shook, her whole body urging her to run away but she was stuck, unable to even speak as she heard Daemon tut. Hands gripping her hips and throwing her onto her back as she cried out, gripping her sheets as he wrestled with her. Her hands wildly flying out to try to get him away, nails scratching at anything she could get to. 

"Seems my little step-daughter enjoys it. Well then, i guess i will do as you please." His hands wrapped around her wrists and roughly shoved them onto the bed, her body contorting and wiggling to try to free herself as she thrashed against him. Daemon rolled his eyes as he pinned her down, fighting with her hands until he had them both in one and grabbed her jaw, focusing her back on him.

"My patience is running thin and very soon i will simply cut you open and take what i want anyway." Y/n whimpered as he stared down at her.

"Do you understand?" Y/n nodded as Daemon smiled at her.

"Good. Now open your legs like a good girl for me." Y/n felt tears fall from her eyes as she slowly opened her legs, Daemon dropping his eyes and groaning before meeting her eyes.

"I am going to let you go and if you so much as twitch to get away from me. I will snap your neck." Y/n nodded quickly, Daemon smirking as he removed his hand and watched her closely before letting out a sigh and leaning down to kiss her forehead. Y/n trying her hardest not to flinch away and scream for help but the grip on her wrists told her she was in no position to behave against him. Daemon sat back as he slowly loosened his grip on her wrist and laid his hands on her hips, Y/n watching him with caution as he looked away from her face dropped his eyes to her cunt. His eyes almost sparkling as he ran his hands down her hips and to her thighs, gripping them as he forced them upwards until her thighs touched her chest and stomach. Y/n whimpering in pain and closing her eyes as she felt his eyes taking in every detail of her most private and concealed area. Daemon snapped his eyes up to her.

"Hold your legs, if you let go i will break your fingers." Y/n jolted and gripped the back of her knees, her body curling in on itself to keep her grip as he grinned and ran his hands along the back of her thighs as she quivered. 

"I have imagined this for months since i saw you at the banquet. If you had of just been a good girl then i would not have to go to such lengths. But now i have you all to myself. Whenever i want." As he spoke his fingers ran through her folds, the blood collecting on his fingers as he used it to push his fingers inside her cunt, Y/n yelping in pain as he gave her a pitiful look.

"You did this to yourself. Remember that." Y/n cried harder, her eyes blood red and cheeks stained with tears as she felt his fingers go deeper, twisting and playing with her insides as he looked back at her cunt. His fingers working inside her as she cried, hands shaking and clutching onto the back of her knees for dear life whilst Daemon released his trousers. The sound of the fabric hitting the ground made Y/n sob harder, her nails digging into the back of her legs until she felt blood trickle down her fingers, Daemon staring at her as he ran his hand along his cock.

"Since you are being such a good girl i will help you." His voice was that of a parent speaking down to their toddler, condescending and mean as he leaned over and spat on her cunt. The action washing more shame over Y/n as she closed her eyes and wished for it to be over, every movement of his hand making her twitch and want to close her legs. Daemon swiped his thumb across her cunt, pushing his spit around his clit until he felt her cunt loosen enough that he could thrust his fingers in and out with ease. Y/n shook as she felt sharp bursts of pain and pleasure run up her stomach, her nipples hardening as she willed any sort of feeling to leave. She wanted to be numb, to not feel anything but hatred. Every movement of his fingers made her despise her body as she heard them moving in and out, disgust washing over her as Daemon chuckled. 

"Look at me when i take you." Her eyes opened revealing glassy blood shot eyes, no tears able to come out as she watched in horror as he lined himself up. His hands on the back of her thighs as he leaned over her, her eyes widening as he thrust in and forced his lips onto hers. Kissing her harshly, teeth gnashing together and cock splitting her open. The pain making her cry out and open her mouth, his tongue eagerly entering as he explored both her holes. Her cunt squeezing him, trying to push him out hopelessly as he pulled out and slammed back in. His balls slamming against her as his hands gripped the back of her thighs, pulling her onto his cock with every thrust. His mouth stealing her breath and holding her hostage as he savoured every inch of her body. 

"Fuck this was worth the wait." Daemon moaned against her mouth as Y/n clenched her eyes shut, his breath mingling with her own as she panted in pain. His chest rising and falling, pushing himself upwards with her thighs making her whimper in pain as it stretched her cunt further for him, his head falling back as he growled out and slammed harder into her. A squeal escaping her throat as the grip on her leg wavered, his hands pushing higher until he gripped the back of her knees. Shoving them upwards before travelling towards her ankles, throwing them over his shoulder forcing her hips to raise off the bed every time he pulled out only to be roughly forced back onto the bed with a thrust. His hands wrapped around her ankles, dragging her onto his cock as his whole body rocked with his hips, eyes closed as his moans became louder and each thrust was meaner, deeper and pointed. Y/n placed her hands over her face, sobs falling from her lips as her body jolted and jiggled with each sob. Daemon's eyes shot open as he suddenly came, a gasp escaping his mouth as he stilled, cock half inside her cunt as he barely let out a breath. His eyes wide and chest puffing in and out with each intake. His eyes head slowly dropping to look at Y/n as she stared at him in horror, his eyes moving down to her cunt as he pulled out, shock in his face before he let go of her ankles. Hands coming to his hair as he let out a loud laugh, a genuine joyous laugh, his body moving with each one and allowing his soft cock to slip from her folds. His eyes still on her cunt before he moved to look at her with a fondness that made Y/n want to throw up. 

"You...are something else." His head shook as he leaned down, Y/n flinching as she expected pain for interrupting him not understanding what had happened, a yelp of shock escaping her as his hands came and scooped his cum from her cunt. Her eyes wide and body curled in on itself as he leaned over her, his fingers lingering in front of her lips with a pointed look that made her open her mouth. His fingers thrusting in and making her gag on the salty flavour as he ran his fingers across her tongue and cheeks, watching as he pulled his fingers free, clean. 

"I was planning on cumming in your pretty little mouth but if you are so desperate to be my breeding bitch then i will only cum in your cunt." His hand came down and slapped her cunt, sending a jolt of electricity through her body before he stood straight and grinned down at her.

"Clean yourself up and do not let your mother see the bruises or i will kill her. You are mine." His trousers were pulled up quick as he walked out, leaving her alone on the bed crying. 

Y/n stared at the bed, a knife in her hand as fresh tears flowed down her face, the blood and cum mixed together making her scream out. Plunging the knife into the bed over and over until her sheets were torn to shreds, feathers and fabric destroyed and covering the floor as she collapsed in a ball. 

[theeoriginals]

“It was- not love at first sight, but familiarity. Like, oh, it’s you.” With Klaus or Elijah please! Something to make me feel better while I do this awful assignment 🥲

deep breaths | elijah mikaelson

pairing: elijah mikaelson x reader (no y/n!)

warnings: noneeee this is just sweet

author’s note: i wrote this at work on my phone just now so sorry if it’s not the best <3

The thing is, Elijah Mikaelson has lived many, many lives. He has had so many names, faces, stories, and voices he can hardly remember them all at this point. That, he supposes, is just part of the curse of immortality. Esther likely didn’t think that far ahead out of her grief when she turned them all into monsters. She didn’t think to consider that she wasn’t saving herself anymore loss, she was cursing her children, leading them to damnation and then blaming them for what she did.

Elijah would likely live another thousand years before he was able to fully comprehend all of the tangled, contradictory emotions that came with vampirism. A gift and a curse, like most things.

What he could for certain say was that he’s loved just as much as he’s hated. He would even argue that you can’t possibly know what it means to hate someone unless you loved them before, unless you still loved them. And although he believed that, he was not someone to give second chances often. At least not to anyone besides his siblings— though that was a different beast altogether.

Elijah knew that even if he hated someone, someone else could love that person just as much. He’d seen it often enough, felt betrayal in his gut like a stake to the heart.

Love, in all of its glory, was not often kind to Elijah.

So whenever his siblings found it necessary to tease him for being so uptight and closed off, he did nothing more than roll his eyes, because it was much easier than telling them that he was scared. Truly, deeply, in his ancient bones, he was scared. Not of love itself, but of the continuously growing sense that he would never truly find real love. And perhaps it was entirely too human of him to think that way, and perhaps it made him weak to some, but Elijah knows that his brothers and sisters more than anyone crave love just as much as he does. He knows they feel it just as deeply as he does, that want in their bones that rushed through their blood, the want for someone to just come in and never leave.

It’s hard to find that when you outlive most people. Harder than one might think, even if you fall in love with an immortal being. It’s not just that he’ll outlive most everyone he could fall in love with, either. It’s that every time it seems he’s done it, he’s fallen in love even knowing it won’t last but letting it happen anyway, it doesn’t— it doesn’t fill that void inside of him.

It doesn’t flood his mind and his body, it doesn’t fill him with life, it doesn’t make him want to breathe.

Elijah doesn’t have to breathe, but he wants someone to make him feel like he has to.

For the past thousand years he’s fought and won and lost, and he’s done his best to keep his family alive despite everything they do to drive him insane, despite the fact that they try to kill each other more than anyone else. He has been holding his breath for a thousand years, fighting and fighting and fighting. He wants to exhale.

He can’t explain this to his siblings. They would understand, he knows, but it’s something he’s never said out loud to himself let alone anyone else. Saying it out loud makes it real, and he can’t— he can’t admit it. When you are drowning, when you are holding your breath, you don’t realize you’re drowning for a long time. And the moment that you do, you realize that you can’t breathe and suddenly you’re gasping for air and you’ve all but killed yourself.

Elijah can’t admit that he’s drowning.

He sighs loudly, and it’s not an exhale and it doesn’t lift that weight off of his shoulders. It’s an expression of his annoyance with his siblings, because this far into their collective immortality, all they live for is getting on each other’s nerves.

And here at Rousseau’s is the last place he wants to entertain their petulance. You never know who could be listening, and Elijah really doesn’t want anyone less than favorable to hear about his love life, or lack thereof.

“I wish you’d just bring someone home to meet us at least once!”

“I wish I could go out and have a drink without being harassed by you people,” Elijah says moodily.

Rebekah pushes her bottom lip out in a pout and widens her eyes in a way that has always gotten her anything she wants from anyone ever. Elijah is, in fact, very aware that he and his brothers have worked overtime in making her as ridiculously spoiled and entitled as she is and yet he still manages to be surprised when she behaves like this.

“We aren’t harassing you, Elijah, we want you to be happy. Is that so wrong?”

He sighs again and closes his eyes for a moment before opening them again and fixing them on Rebekah and Klaus. “It’s not wrong. But I don’t know what you expect me to do about my lack of prospects, it’s not like the perfect person can be conjured at whim.”

Klaus lifts a finger and Elijah knows that he’s going to say something ridiculous before he even speaks. The gleam in his eye never bodes well for anyone. “I bet we could find a witch to do just that. We could compile all of your wants and desires in a partner and get a witch to mix it all together for you. Problem solved, Elijah has a soulmate!”

Elijah gives his brother a deadpan look. “Is this witch Victor Frankenstein?”

Rebekah snorts in amusement, and Elijah dutifully ignores it.

“Be creative, Elijah! Open your mind,” Klaus swipes an arm out dramatically, sloshing his drink over the side of his glass, splashing a few drops of bourbon onto Elijah’s suit jacket.

Elijah’s lip curls in distaste and he gives his brother a look of disdain that goes ignored.

“I have an open mind, what I don’t have is an open schedule,”

“You are not as busy as you like to believe,” Rebekah drawls out, finishing off her own drink. “Your life will never change if you don’t go out and do something different! You’ll be stagnant forever, and I do mean forever, brother,”

“I will never be stagnant with your dramatics, Rebekah,”

She rolls her eyes at his avoidant response. “Your love life is stagnant. I don’t even think stagnant is the proper word, it is downright nonexistent. It is extinct.”

“Thank you, Rebekah,”

“Even if you have a sleazy, completely forgettable one night stand, you need to do something. You’re constantly dealing with us, you need to focus on yourself!”

Elijah pours the rest of his bourbon down his throat, barely tasting it as he swallows. “Maybe if you did less idiotic things that I have to deal with I’d have a more active love life. And truly, I’m not sure why I’m being lectured when you two are the furthest thing from romantically successful.”

“I have a child, I’m plenty romantically successful!”

“She was conceived during a drunken one night stand with a werewolf who is now married to someone else.”

“The details don’t matter, I have a child to show for it. I have a father’s wisdom now, you should listen to me!”

Elijah raises an eyebrow. “Unfortunately, I am not part dog and therefore am actually incapable of reproducing much like you thought you were. And considering the trials and tribulations we went through with Hope, I can’t imagine I’d have any better luck in my own venture to fatherhood.”

“You’re being purposefully obtuse,”

“That doesn’t sound like me,” Elijah simpers, gesturing to the bartender for another round for them.

“I have a challenge,” Rebekah cuts in before Klaus can continue their bickering, and Elijah narrows his eyes at the determined gleam in her eyes.

“I don’t like this,”

Rebekah dismisses him with a flutter of her fingers. “The next person to walk through that door, I want you to go and talk to them. You don’t have to have a one night stand, you absolute prude, but you need to speak to someone that you’re not related to, and that isn’t trying to kill you.”

“Rebekah—”

“I don’t want to hear it. Just do this one thing for me, for your darling little sister,”

“My darling little sister—”

“Shut up, look! Someone’s walking inside, get ready to go be your charming self,”

Elijah groans and turns to look at the door as it opens and someone walks through. He sighs again, weighted, empty, scared.

When he lifts his gaze, though, he finds a woman. He takes her in— eyes, nose, lips, hair— and thinks beautiful.

The bar is as crowded as ever, no breaks in sight for the bartenders and waiters, and he’s tucked away at a table with Klaus and Rebekah in the back corner because they are particularly antisocial and Klaus really just wanted to use this outing as a way to remind everyone that they are still here, and that New Orleans is still theirs. The exit is across the room, Elijah has not paid much attention to the distance at all, and yet now.

Now, the crowd of people in between him and the door is frozen and endless. Elijah’s standing before he realizes, and it feels like he’s stepping around the people frozen mid-laugh, mid-drink, mid-bite, because the world has stopped just long enough for him to cross the room.

He parts the crowd and stops before her, eyes roaming over her face. Committing it to memory and vowing to keep it there for the rest of his eternal years.

She looks at him with a smile, blinking at him slowly like she’s got all the time in the world. There’s a necklace sitting on her chest that has a familiar blue stone hanging off of it and he inhales sharply.

He thinks vampire, perhaps a coincidence but things rarely are for him and it’s something new to think that she is immortal, too, of course more fragile than an Original but if she’s smart, and he knows that she is, he can feel it, then she’ll last just as long.

“Hi,” She speaks first, and the world starts up again, the noise comes back and people unfreeze. Now that he’s stood here before her, the world can keep spinning, but it had to wait— it just had to wait for him to catch up.

“Hello,” He responds quietly, too quiet for the bar, but she hears it anyway. “I’m Elijah.”

Her smile widens and she says, “I think I knew that already,” and then she tells him her name and Elijah repeats it for himself, and then for her, and then he turns it over in his head a hundred times over so it never gets lost.

She tilts her head slightly, looking up at him. “Were you trying to leave? Am I in your way?”

“No,” He responds quickly, almost rushed. “Not unless you’re leaving, too.”

She seems pleased at his response and the longer he looks in her eyes, he thinks he’s found a new favorite color.

“I’m not leaving,”

Elijah exhales, and the weight is gone, and the void is no more. And he thinks— oh.

There you are.