#there is no escaping from the world the world is your home

[anhedoniawrites]

just feeling my way back to you.

gif by @reidgif

lovers - anna of the north

part one!

Spencer Reid x Fem!BAU Reader

summary: the two youngest BAU agents explore their wants & needs together.

genre: smut🔥

word count: 5.2k

warnings: 18+, NSFW, MDNI! no use of y/n, proofread, size difference, nipple play, oral (f receiving, only if you squint), fingering (f receiving), unprotected p in v, cream pie, aftercare.

masterlist!

Spencer sat beside you, his gaze drifting over to you in the quiet of his apartment. You took slow, thoughtful sips of your wine, your eyes wandering around the space as if you were trying to memorise every corner of it. You looked at the bookshelves stacked with well-worn novels, the photographs framed on the walls that captured moments from Spencer’s life—some familiar, some foreign—and the odd assortment of trinkets and souvenirs scattered across the surfaces. It was as though you were taking the time to piece together who he was, each object a small window into his world.

The way you moved—so effortlessly, so naturally—caught Spencer off guard. You weren’t just occupying the space; you were making it your own, adding a layer of comfort to a place that had always felt a little disordered and incomplete to him. It was a quality he found magnetic, the way you seemed to settle into any space with such ease, as if you could make anywhere feel like home.

Without realising it, he found himself staring, lost in the soft curve of your profile, the way your fingers delicately held the glass, and the gentle way your eyes traced the walls. He was so caught up in the moment that he didn’t notice when your gaze shifted to meet his.

Your brow arched slightly, and you set your glass down with a soft clink, the sound breaking the quiet. “What are you looking at?” Your voice was light, and playful, but there was a warmth in your eyes that made Spencer’s heart skip a beat.

He blinked, startled, but a soft chuckle escaped his lips, his usual self-consciousness melting away in the moment. “You’re just captivating,” he said, his voice low, almost a whisper, the sincerity in his words impossible to hide.

The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, and without thinking, he reached out. His fingers brushed against your cheek, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear, the touch gentle, lingering for a second longer than he intended. It wasn’t a grand gesture—just a simple act of intimacy—but it felt monumental. There was something about the softness of the moment that made everything else fade away.

Spencer smiled softly, his heart fluttering in his chest at the way you looked at him. The warmth in your eyes made him feel seen in a way he hadn’t quite experienced before. Your breath caught for a brief moment, your cheeks flushing with a delicate blush as their eyes locked, and then, without another word, you leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first, almost tentative, as if neither of them wanted to break the fragile intimacy they’d built. But the softness of it, the way your lips met his with such quiet certainty, deepened the moment in a way words never could. Spencer’s breath caught, his pulse quickening, as his hand instinctively found its way to your face, his thumb gently brushing the side of your cheek.

For a moment, time seemed to slow, the world outside of the apartment fading away. It was just the two of them, wrapped in the warmth of the kiss, the tenderness between them undeniable. The soft pressure of your lips against his felt like the culmination of everything that had been building throughout the night—the laughter, the quiet moments, the connection. It was all there, in the simple act of their kiss.

Their kiss deepened, a fiery hunger igniting between them that neither could deny. The heat of the moment consumed them as Spencer got up from the couch and walked backward, guiding them toward his bedroom without breaking contact. Their lips moved fervently, breaths mingling as they stumbled, almost losing their balance. Your hands were insistent, slipping under the fabric of his jacket and pushing it from his shoulders.

“Please,” you murmured against his lips, your voice soft but urgent. Your nimble fingers began undoing the buttons of his shirt, one by one, until the fabric parted to reveal his chest.

When the back of Spencer’s legs hit the bed, he sat down abruptly, his knees spreading to invite you to stand between them. You stepped closer, your arms draping over his shoulders, your touch warm and possessive. His shirt hung open, exposing a lean, lightly toned frame—exactly the way you liked. Your eyes roamed over him with unspoken appreciation. Spencer’s hands found your upper waist, his palms gliding down your sides to your hips, even as the fabric of your dress teased the skin beneath. Every curve, every line of your body seemed to captivate him.

“You can take it off,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the pounding of your heart. Your thumb brushed along his jawline, the small motion grounding them both in the intimacy of the moment. Spencer swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he nodded. Slowly, almost torturously, his hands travelled lower, skimming the soft material of your dress until he reached the hem. He rose to his full height, towering over you, and you instinctively lifted your arms above your head, allowing him to lift the dress from your body.

The fabric slipped away, revealing your bare skin to the dim light of the room. Your beauty took his breath away. For a moment, he held the dress in his hands, his gaze locking with yours before he let it fall to the floor at their feet. Your cheeks flushed under his intense gaze, but you stood steady, letting him drink you in.

“You’re stunning,” he murmured, his voice low and reverent. He reached out, his hands settling on your waist again as he pulled you closer. Gently, sitting back down he leaned forward, his lips brushing against the soft skin of your stomach in a kiss so tender it sent shivers up your spine.

Spencer’s lips began to wander, trailing kisses across your abdomen. Each one was deliberate, an unspoken promise of adoration. When his mouth brushed against your hip, you jolted slightly, a giggle escaping your lips before you could stop it.

“That tickles,” you admitted, your voice tinged with a mix of embarrassment and delight.

He pulled back just enough to look up at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Good to know,” he said, his voice laced with warmth. Then, with a soft chuckle, he pressed another kiss to the same spot, revelling in the way your body reacted to him.

Each kiss was a worshipful touch, his lips moving with a mixture of restraint and longing as if he wanted to memorise every inch of you. For the first time, you felt completely and utterly seen, cherished in a way that made your heart ache with the intensity of it.

“What do you want, baby?” Spencer murmured, his voice a husky whisper against your skin as he trailed a series of tender kisses along your collarbone, your shoulders, and down your arms. His lips were soft yet insistent, his touch a silent promise of his devotion. Every movement, every kiss, spoke volumes about how much he adored you—how much he cherished every moment they spent together.

“I want you,” you whispered back, your voice breathy but resolute, as your hands moved to the collar of his shirt. Your fingers trembled slightly, but you didn’t falter, eager to rid him of the barriers between them. The shirt slid off his shoulders with ease, exposing his lean, toned chest to your hungry gaze. You bit your lip softly, your teeth grazing the tender flesh, and Spencer’s eyes darkened at the sight.

He reached out, brushing his thumb gently over your bottom lip, his touch both possessive and reverent. “Don’t do that, sweetheart,” he said in a low voice, his thumb lingering for a moment before he cupped your face, his palm warm against your cheek.

“Please, Spence,” you murmured, your voice trembling with need. Your knees hit the floor as you lowered yourself in front of him, your eyes locking onto his with a mixture of desire and vulnerability. You were at eye level with his belt now, your fingers already reaching for the buckle, your gaze seeking his approval.

His breath hitched, his resolve wavering for the briefest moment, but he quickly regained control. Spencer nodded, his jaw tightening as he watched you deftly unfasten his belt, your fingers brushing against him as you worked. The sound of his zipper being undone filled the room, and his slacks pooled at his feet, springing free his stiff erection.

You looked up at him, your eyes wide and expectant, your lips parted slightly. Your hands hovered over the waistband of his boxers, but before you could go further, his large hands gently wrapped around your wrists, stopping you.

“No, baby,” he said firmly, his tone leaving no room for argument. His gaze softened as he looked down at you, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “Tonight is about you. I’m going to take care of you.”

Before you could protest, he leaned down, his hands sliding beneath your arms as he helped you to your feet. His lips found yours in a kiss that was both slow and all-consuming, a kiss that left you breathless as he guided you backward toward the bed.

Your back met the soft mattress, and he eased you down, his hands gentle yet commanding as he positioned you just how he wanted. You lay beneath him, your chest rising and falling with each shallow breath, your body clad in nothing but delicate lace that did little to conceal your curves.

Spencer stood above you for a moment, taking you in. The way your hair fanned out across the pillow, the way your skin seemed to glow in the soft light of the room, the way you looked at him as if he were the only thing you needed.

Spencer shifted beside you on the bed, his breath warm against your skin as he lowered himself to your knee. His lips pressed delicate, lingering kisses along the curve of your leg, trailing upward with unhurried devotion. Each touch sent a shiver cascading through your body, anticipation pooling in the pit of your stomach.

When he reached the edge of your bralette, his kisses faltered for a moment, and he glanced up, catching your gaze. Your back arched instinctively as if your body was urging you forward, your fingers fumbling behind you to unclip the fabric that kept your textured. The moment the tension snapped free, your bralette slid off your shoulders, leaving you exposed.

Spencer stilled. His wide, hazel eyes roamed over you, his breath catching as though the sight of you had stolen every coherent thought. You were radiant—utterly captivating—and for a brief moment, he felt foolish just laying there, staring, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away.

“Can I?” he asked, his voice soft, barely above a whisper, but filled with reverence. His hands hovered hesitantly, his gaze locking onto yours with a pleading vulnerability that made your heart race. You could see him wrestling with himself, clinging desperately to the fraying edges of his self-control.

Your lips parted, and you nodded, the simple gesture granting him permission.

He exhaled slowly, his hands finding your skin with a gentleness that made your breath hitch. His fingers skimmed the swell of your breast before settling at your peak. He pinched softly, rolling your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, drawing out the most delicious tension before giving a subtle upward tug. When he finally released, the sensation left you trembling, a soft whimper escaping your lips.

The sound drove him mad, his restraint slipping with every second. Spencer leaned closer, brushing his lips against the column of your neck as his hands continued their exploration, worshipping every inch of you.

You were utterly undone, your head falling back against the pillow as his touch turned you into a mess of quiet gasps and whispered pleas, each sound echoing like a symphony in his ears.

“More. Please, Spence,” you whispered into his ear, your voice trembling with need. Your head rested on his shoulder, your breath warm against his skin. His fingers continued their slow, deliberate pinching at your nipples, drawing soft gasps from your lips.

With his free hand, Spencer moved down, hesitating at the waistband of your underwear. He paused, his fingers ghosting over the fabric as his eyes searched yours for the permission he craved more than anything.

Your response was a broken moan, a breathless, “Mm-hm,” followed by a shaky nod. It was all he needed. Carefully, he slipped his hand beneath the elastic, his fingertips brushing against the soft, slick heat of your folds. You gasped, your hips bucking involuntarily at the sensation.

“You’re so sensitive, baby,” he murmured, his voice low and thick with adoration. His words sent a shiver down your spine, and you nodded eagerly, your body arching toward his touch, silently pleading for more.

Spencer’s movements were unhurried, deliberate, as though he wanted to savour every moment of this intimacy. Slowly, he ran his fingers along your slit, collecting your arousal before letting one finger dip inside you. The sensation made you gasp, your body tightening around him instantly. You bit your lip, trying to stifle a moan, but it escaped anyway, soft and unrestrained.

He began to move his finger in and out of your at an achingly slow pace, his touch gentle yet deliberate. Your head fell back against his chest, your eyes fluttering shut as a quiet plea slipped from your lips. “More. Please.”

Obliging your, Spencer carefully added a second finger, easing your open with patience and care. You let out a breathless whimper, your hips rolling instinctively to meet his hand. It wasn’t greedy—it was perfect. He set a steady, measured rhythm, his fingers curling slightly to brush against your sweet spot with every stroke.

As he worked you, his palm pressed against your clit, adding a delicious friction that had your thighs trembling. You clenched around his fingers, your breathing growing shallow, your body teetering on the edge of control.

“Right there,” you gasped, your voice cracking with need. Your high was building rapidly, a fire igniting deep in your stomach, threatening to consume you whole.

Spencer’s eyes never left your face, his heart racing at the sight of you coming undone in his arms. He continued his rhythm, his touch unrelenting but tender, wanting nothing more than to give you everything you needed.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, his voice reverent, as if the words themselves were a prayer.

Your body tensed, your hips lifting off the bed as your climax overtook you, a shuddering cry falling from your lips. Spencer held you through it, his fingers coaxing you through the waves of your release, his free hand brushing soothingly along your side.

As you came down, your body relaxed against him, your head nestled into the crook of his neck. “I’ve got you,” he whispered softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Spencer shifted from behind you with tender care that made your chest tighten. His movements were deliberate, his gaze soft as he positioned himself above you in missionary. His hands gently brushed over your thighs, his voice low and soothing.

“Can I take these off, sweetheart?” he asked, his tone laced with both reverence and restraint.

Still basking in the haze of your orgasm, you nodded, your mind too clouded to form words. The intensity of what you had just felt lingered in your body, leaving you breathless and pliant beneath him. You didn’t understand why it had affected you so deeply—maybe it was because it was Spencer who had given it to you. Whatever the reason, it had felt better than anything you’d experienced before, though you weren’t about to tell him that. His ego didn’t need any more fuel tonight.

Spencer hooked his fingers beneath the elastic of your panties, pausing as his eyes flicked to yours. “I need you to lift your hips for me, darling,” he murmured.

Your body responded instinctively, your hips rising just enough for him to slide the fabric down your legs. The cool air brushed against your skin as the damp material was removed, and you felt an odd relief to be rid of it. You barely noticed Spencer had already used his boxers until your eyes flicked downward.

You froze for a moment, your breath hitching. You’d had a rough idea of his size when you unzipped his pants earlier, but seeing him now left you speechless. He was bigger than you’d expected—not that you were complaining.

Spencer must have caught the flicker of surprise in your eyes, but he didn’t say anything. Instead, he moved back up your body, his touch reverent as he gently parted your legs. His lips found your clit in a soft, feather-light kiss, and you couldn’t help the shiver that coursed through you. Your hips bucked involuntarily, a quiet gasp falling from your lips.

“Do you have a condom?” he asked, his voice slightly hoarse as he positioned himself above your, their faces now inches apart. His gaze searched yours, filled with both desire and care.

“I’m on the pill,” you whispered, your cheeks flushing as a wave of shyness overtook you. You didn’t know why you suddenly felt so bashful when Spencer had grown so confident, but you found yourself enjoying the new dynamic.

His brow furrowed slightly, his fingers reaching up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. His thumb brushed over your cheek before trailing down to your lips, his touch both calming and electric. “You’re sure, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice softer now, almost a whisper.

You could hear the sincerity in his question. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust you—he just wanted to be absolutely certain you were comfortable with what they were about to share.

Looking into his eyes, you saw nothing but tenderness and a quiet devotion that made your heartache. Leaning up, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, your hand resting lightly against his cheek as you nodded.

“I’m sure,” you whispered, your voice steady despite the butterflies swirling in your stomach.

Spencer exhaled slowly, his forehead resting against yours for a moment. “Okay,” he murmured, his lips curving into a small, grateful smile before he kissed you again, his movements deliberate and full of unspoken promises.

“It might hurt a little as I’m going in, okay?” Spencer murmured, his voice soft and full of care. His body was pressed against yours, their chests flush, and his forehead rested lightly against your breast as he glanced down to line himself up. He moved with the kind of precision and gentleness that made your heartache, as if every movement was a testament to how much he cherished you.

You nodded, your breaths steadying as you braced yourself for the discomfort you expected. Your hands rested lightly on his shoulders, your fingers brushing against his skin in a silent reassurance. You trusted him completely.

When he finally began to press into you, it wasn’t as bad as you had anticipated. There was a pinch—a sharp but fleeting sting—but it faded quickly, leaving only a sensation of fullness that sent a shiver through your body. Spencer stopped the moment he was partially inside, his brow furrowing as he glanced up at you.

“You okay?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You blinked, surprised by how gentle it all felt. “That was it?” you asked, your voice tinged with disbelief.

Spencer chuckled softly, his forehead lifting from your skin so his eyes could meet yours. The vulnerability in his gaze made your heart flutter. “Half-ish,” he replied with a playful smirk.

Your eyes widened at his words, and he couldn’t help but laugh again, the sound low and warm in his chest. “Only half?” you echoed, incredulous.

“I didn’t want to overwhelm you,” he explained, his tone patient and soothing.

Your lips pressed into a thin line, giving him a look he knew all too well—a look that said, You should know better than to underestimate me. As if to prove your point, you spoke the exact words he expected. “I would tell you if I needed you to stop.”

He smiled, his hand brushing tenderly against your cheek. “I know,” he said softly, leaning forward to press a lingering kiss to your lips. “Okay, sweetheart. Just let me know if it’s too much.”

With that, he slowly pushed the rest of the way in, his movements careful and measured. Your body tensed for a moment, adjusting to the stretch, and you bit your lip to stifle a gasp. Spencer paused again, giving you time to acclimate.

Your arms instinctively wrapped around him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your body adjusted to the fullness. You hated to admit it, but he had been right—it was almost overwhelming. A soft, breathless moan escaped your lips, and you felt your nails drag against his skin as you gripped him tighter, the pressure grounding you.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, his voice thick with concern, his gaze searching yours for any sign of discomfort.

You nodded, your lips curving into a small, reassuring smile. “I’m okay,” you whispered. “You feel... really good.”

His shoulders relaxed slightly, and he leaned down to kiss you again, his lips slow and deliberate against yours. The kiss deepened as he began to move, his hips rocking gently against yours, keeping his pace slow and steady.

Your breath hitched with every deliberate movement, the pleasure surging through you like a wave, steady and unrelenting. Each thrust was slow, measured, as if he were savouring every moment, every reaction he drew from you. It wasn’t rushed; it wasn’t frantic. It was deliberate, a dance that spoke of connection, trust, and a shared yearning.

Your body arched into his, your hands sliding over the taut muscles of his back. Your nails dug in lightly, not in pain but in a desperate attempt to ground yourself against the overwhelming sensations coursing through you. Spencer leaned in, his breath warm against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine.

“You’re so perfect,” he murmured, his voice a low, reverent whisper. The words were soft, almost vulnerable, as though he were baring his soul in those few syllables. They wrapped around your heart, filling you with a warmth that was just as intense as the fire burning between them.

Your response was a breathless moan, your lips parting as your head tilted back against the pillow. His lips found the curve of your neck, brushing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. Each kiss was deliberate, lingering, as though he wanted to imprint himself on you.

The rhythm they created together was almost hypnotic, their bodies moving in perfect sync, a harmony that felt instinctual, and natural. His hips pressed against yours with each deliberate thrust, slow and deep, leaving you gasping for air. Your body responded to him as if it had been made for this, every nerve alive, every inch of your attuned to him.

“Spencer,” you breathed, your voice trembling with emotion, with need. Your hands slipped into his hair, pulling him closer, needing to feel the warmth of his body pressed fully against yours. He responded with a kiss that was both tender and consuming, his lips capturing yours in a way that made the world fade away.

His hands roamed over your body, exploring your curves with a reverence that made you feel utterly adored. His fingers traced patterns along your sides, his touch firm yet gentle, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He held you as though you were precious, as though he couldn’t bear to let you go.

“I’ve got you,” he whispered, his voice steady and soothing, grounding you in the midst of the overwhelming pleasure building between them. The sincerity in his words brought a lump to your throat, your heart swelling with a mixture of love and desire that threatened to consume you.

The intensity between them grew with each slow, deliberate thrust, their movements a testament to the unspoken connection they shared. Your breathing quickened, your chest rising and falling as you clung to him, your body trembling beneath his. The pleasure was a slow burn, building gradually, each wave more intense than the last, until it felt like you were teetering on the edge of something vast and all-encompassing.

Spencer’s own breathing had grown heavier, his control slipping as he lost himself in you. His hands tightened on your hips, anchoring them together as he pressed deeper, his forehead resting against yours. Their eyes met, and in that moment, everything else ceased to exist.

“You’re incredible,” he murmured, his voice raw with emotion. His lips brushed yours in a kiss that was almost unbearably tender, a stark contrast to the heat simmering between them.

The pleasure built to a crescendo, their bodies moving together in perfect unison, every touch, every kiss, every whispered word driving them closer to the edge. Your nails dug into his shoulders, your back arching as your body surrendered completely to him.

“Spencer,” you gasped, your voice trembling, your body taut with anticipation.

“I’m right here,” he reassured you, his voice steady despite the strain in it, his movements never faltering.

The tension between them snapped like a string pulled too tight, pleasure crashing over you in a wave so intense it left you trembling. A cry escaped your lips, your body shaking as you clung to him, your nails raking down his back as you were consumed by the sensation.

Spencer followed a heartbeat later, his movements faltering as he let go, a low groan escaping him as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. His arms tightened around you, holding you close as they rode out the waves together, their bodies trembling in the aftermath.

They collapsed against each other, breathless and sated, their hearts pounding in unison. Spencer pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his fingers brushing stray strands of hair from your face.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured, his voice soft, his lips curving into a small, contented smile.

You smiled back, your chest still heaving as you nestled closer to him, your head resting against his shoulder. In that moment, wrapped in his arms, you felt safe, cherished, and completely, undeniably his.

After a peaceful moment of rest, Spencer stirred, shifting carefully as he climbed out of bed. The warm sheets clung to him, but his attention wasn’t on himself—it was on you. He moved quietly, trying not to disturb you too much, but the shift in weight made you protest softly.

“Spence, no. What are you doing?” you murmured, your voice laced with sleep and the reluctance to lose his warmth.

He bent down beside you, his soft, intelligent eyes meeting yours as his hand cupped your cheek. His fingers gently brushed away a few stray strands of hair that had fallen across your face, revealing your delicate features. His voice was tender, a soothing balm in the quiet room. “You have to pee, or else you’ll get a UTI,” he said softly, his tone both practical and caring.

You groaned, turning your head away from him, your body heavy with exhaustion and unwillingness. “I don’t want to move,” you mumbled, burying your face into the pillow.

Spencer, ever patient, leaned closer, his lips brushing against your temple. “If you pee, I’ll carry you,” he offered with a knowing smile. It wasn’t the first time he’d used this bribe, and he knew it would work.

Your lips quirked up into a small smile despite yourself, your facial muscles betraying your resolve. He saw it and smirked in return, victorious before you even gave in.

Finally, you turned back to face him, raising your arms in surrender, signalling for him to carry you. “Fine,” you said, your voice playfully exasperated.

Bending down, he slid his arms under you, lifting you effortlessly in a bridal-style hold. Your head rested against his chest as he carried you to the bathroom, his steps careful and deliberate, ensuring you felt secure in his arms. When they reached the bathroom, he set you down gently on the cool surface of the toilet seat.

“I’m just going to grab you a shirt to sleep in, okay?” he murmured, brushing a kiss against your forehead before stepping out to give you some privacy.

You nodded softly, watching him leave with a small, sleepy smile. Left alone, you did your business, moving slowly and carefully, still basking in the warmth of his touch and the care in his voice.

Moments later, Spencer returned with a spare pair of boxers and one of his oversized shirts, the fabric worn and soft. “You alright, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice low and comforting as he approached you.

You nodded again, a droopy smile tugging at your lips. Your eyes followed him as he moved to the sink, filling it with warm water. He grabbed a clean washcloth, soaking it and wringing out the excess water with precision.

“I need you to stand up for me, okay?” he said gently, his hands extended toward you.

With his help, you stood slowly, leaning on him slightly as your body protested the movement. He supported you easily, one hand steadying your waist as he brought you closer. You looked down at him with a soft expression as he knelt before you, his every movement careful and deliberate.

Guiding your legs apart just slightly, he took the damp washcloth and brought it to your skin, his touch feather-light as he began to clean you. The warmth of the cloth combined with his gentleness sent a wave of comfort through you, even as you winced slightly at the tenderness.

You hissed softly, your body still sensitive. “I know,” he murmured, his voice filled with apology. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I promise I’m almost done.”

To emphasize his words, Spencer leaned forward, his lips brushing against your stomach in a soft, tender kiss. The gesture was full of care and regret, a silent apology that made your heart swell. You glanced down at him, your fingers instinctively moving to run through his hair as he lingered there for a moment.

“You’re too good to me,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

His lips curved into a small smile against your skin before he straightened, his hands moving with the same deliberate care as he finished cleaning you. When he was done, he leaned back slightly, his hands smoothing over your thighs as he looked up at you. “There,” he said softly, his voice warm and reassuring. “All done.”

He helped you into the boxers and shirt, his hands steady as he guided your arms through the sleeves and adjusted the hem. “You’re so good to me,” you repeated, your voice filled with affection as you looked at him.

He smiled, his expression tender as he cupped your face again. “You deserve nothing less,” he replied, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before scooping your back into his arms.

Spencer carried you back to bed, settling you beneath the covers and tucking you in before sliding in beside you. You curled into him instinctively, your head resting on his chest as his arms wrapped around you.

“Goodnight, Spence,” you murmured sleepily, your voice soft and content.

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he whispered, his lips brushing against your hair as he held you close.

In his arms, you felt safe, loved, and cherished—a feeling you knew you could get used to.

thank you for reading!

please like & reblog if you enjoyed!

masterlist!

taglist: @pleasantwitchgarden

[megumismyhusband]

It was wrong, you knew it was. yet you can’t help but think of him that way. Michael Kaiser was gonna be your downfall.

He was here again—just like always, comfortable in your home as if it were his own. Your brother had gone to the gym, leaving you alone with the man who had unknowingly stolen your heart years ago.

“You’ve been quiet today,” Kaiser said, breaking the silence. His voice was smooth, tinged with curiosity as his sharp blue eyes flicked up to meet yours. “What’s on your mind?”

You shrugged, hoping to seem nonchalant. “Nothing important.”

“Liar,” he teased, leaning his elbows on the counter, closer now. “I can see the wheels turning in your head.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away, busying yourself with a non-existent speck on the counter. How could he be so casual, so effortlessly charming, while you were practically bursting at the seams?

“I just didn’t sleep well,” you mumbled. It wasn’t a complete lie; you hadn’t slept well—because of him.

He tilted his head, studying you with an intensity that made your heart race. “Hmm. You sure that’s all?”

“Why do you care?” you shot back, a little sharper than you intended.

His lips quirked into a grin, the kind that made your stomach flip. “Because I do. Is that so hard to believe?”

You froze, the air suddenly thick between you. It wasn’t what he said—it was the way he said it. Like he meant it.

“Michael…” His name felt heavy on your tongue, weighted with years of unspoken feelings.

He set his mug down and moved around the counter, closing the space between you. “You’ve been avoiding me lately,” he said softly, his voice dipping low enough to make your pulse quicken. “Why?”

“I haven’t been avoiding you,” you lied.

“Liar,” he repeated, his grin softening into something gentler.

You swallowed hard as he stepped closer, his presence overwhelming but intoxicating. The scent of his cologne wrapped around you, and you cursed yourself for being so weak.

“This is dangerous,” you whispered, your voice barely audible.

“Why?” His hand brushed yours, the brief contact sending sparks up your arm. “Because of your brother?”

You nodded, biting your lip to keep the words from tumbling out.

He let out a soft chuckle, his other hand coming up to gently tilt your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. “Your brother doesn’t get to decide how I feel about you. Or how you feel about me.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you stared at him, searching his eyes for any sign of insincerity. But there was none—just raw, unfiltered emotion that matched your own.

“And how do you feel about me?” you asked, barely recognizing your own voice.

He smiled, the kind of smile that made the world feel like it was standing still. “I feel like you’ve been driving me crazy for months. And I feel like I don’t want to hide it anymore.”

Before you could process his words, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was soft and slow and everything you’d ever dreamed it would be.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, his breath mingling with yours. “So, what do you think?” he murmured, a hint of mischief returning to his voice.

“I think you’re going to be my downfall,” you replied, a shaky laugh escaping your lips.

He grinned, gently brushing a strand of hair from your face. “Then let me fall with you.”

[if-loves]

because you're everything (i have left)

// Phainon

sum: Is it so wrong that Phainon is everything you know?

wc: 1001

warnings: 3.0 story quest spoilers, amphoreus inaccuracies, ooc phainon, written before phainon release, implied (??) yan phainon, reader is a hot mess tbh

a/n: help i tried to make him yan but this just devolved into codependent relationship 

likes & reblogs appreciated :)

Phainon has known you his whole life. You have both seen each other in your most vulnerable of times, as children who had yet to understand the cruelties of the world, and as adults who have suffered the cruelties of the world. Through it all, you and Phainon held onto each other, mumbling promises of never leaving each other.

That was when Aedes Elysiae first fell to the savage flames, and the two of you were the only ones who managed to escape.

Years have passed since then, but the sight still lives in your mind, a vivid image that only seems to refresh and worsen the pain and guilt in your heart. Could you have done something and saved at least one more person? Was the way you were acting at the moment too selfish? Had you been a little stronger, a little smarter, would your home still be standing? 

You know enough about Phainon to know that for all his act as a playful young man, he harbours a grief and rage so deep in his soul even you don't know if you'd be able to coax it out of him. It's true he'd do many things for you, yes, but asking him to open up may be a boundary even if you can't cross.

But you'd do anything to keep Phainon happy, because you know he would do the same for you - because you're all each other has to remind you of home. Because you're all each other has left.

Upon finding asylum in Okhema, Phainon decided to leave his original name behind with the ruins of Aedes Elysiae and start somewhat anew in the Holy City. He had even told you to forget the name you've known him by all your life in favour of this new one, yet asked you sweetly to keep yours.

Sometimes you wonder if, had it not been for the destruction that rained upon your village that day, you and Phainon would be as close as you were today. Would you have shared all these intimate moments, like kissing and cuddling and all that naturally followed after, if everything was still as you had known. Would he have looked at you with the same disarming smile he always does when he comes back from another mission, or would he have slowly left you, like watching a boat be carried away by the sea's currents. 

You try not to let yourself be consumed by these thoughts. Phainon wouldn't be happy to know you doubt his love for you, and you'd hate to make him sad. He works so hard to keep you safe and happy, so the least you could do was make him happy when he was home. 

You'd do anything to make him happy. Even if it meant isolating yourself in the four walls of this home, even if it meant reducing yourself to nothing more than the one he'd come home to, even if it meant sacrificing your happiness for his, because this is what love is, isn't it? 

Phainon tells you he loves you often, while holding your face gently in his calloused hands. There's an emotion in his eyes you can't quite decipher, but it reminds you of a feeling you're very familiar with - guilt. You wonder why he feels that way, and why it only appears when he looks at you. What emotions does he harbour inside that lonely head of his?

You think it's hard to imagine Phainon wanting to hurt people. He's always been a kind person, even as a child and especially as an adult. He's always wanted the best for everyone, and he's never done anything to make you feel otherwise, so it's no surprise that when he tells you to never leave the house without him, and to never answer any knocks on the doors or windows, and to never open the curtains and windows, you listened. As a Chrysos Heir, he must be privy to some sensitive information, and as your lover, he must only wish to protect you. Phainon would never do anything to hurt you.

Despite your unwavering faith in him, you find it especially difficult to control your thoughts on particularly lonely days like these. He told you that he may be gone for awhile for some business to do with being a Chrysos Heir, and left you with a chase kiss on your lips before he was locking the door on his way out. How long would he be gone this time? 

Without him around, the disease named fear starts its infection and spreads throughout your soul. You're well aware of its tell tale signs, and you have yet to find a remedy for it that isn't Phainon's presence. It starts slowly, taking its time to seep into the crevices of your soul, before it comes crashing down on you and all of a sudden you're drowning.

Is Phainon taking care of you because you're all that's left of Aedes Elysiae? Do you deserve everything that Phainon has given you? Was your life worth the deaths of all those villagers? Phainon is a Chrysos Heir, greatness is written in his script since the moment he was born. What were you?

It's okay, though. Because when Phainon walks through the door, all your doubts disappear in an instant. He engulfs you warmly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, and everything feels right even if only for a moment.

But sometimes even his presence isn't enough to dispel some of your doubts. Does Phainon truly love you for you, or does he love you for what you remind him of? Of a bygone past that only exists in your memories, that smells of ash and sounds of screams, that the both of you can't let go of, even as it threatens the destruction of you and him? 

But it's okay if it’s Phainon, you think. Because you love him. Because he's all you have left.

[writingwisterias]

Still dreaming?

Leon Kennedy x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: SMUT, MDNI, Dub-Con, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Sonomphila, Needy Leon, Degradation Kink, Rough sex, Pure Smut - Little to no plot, Light Orgasm denial, Dom Leon, Sub Reader, Unprotected Sex

Summary: Leon comes home all needy and desperate but you aren't wearing the underwear that tells him it's okay to wake you up with what he craves

A nice smutty birthday fic for @friedtofu4 ! If you don't say happy birthday I'll steal Leon all for myself

Tired didn’t even cover what Leon felt today, the pain lingering throughout his body would be enough to kill a man. The fact he’s even walking after the injuries he sustained was impressive to everyone in the office. Their constant staring was proof enough of that. The orange glow of the sky had faded by the time he finished his drive home, replaced by the flickering of the streetlamps that guided his way to the house from the driveway. He wished he called you tonight maybe an orgasm or two would wash away the lingering thoughts of Ada. The one night they shared was more of a complicated dream; one that always seemed nice but the more you thought about it the more nightmarish it became. She always did leave a bad taste in his mouth unlike you. Your sweet innocence, still yet to be tainted by the horrors of the world was enough salvation he needed to get away from it all. He didn’t even bother turning the lights on as he walked through the house. He knew where he was heading it was muscle memory at this point. 

He didn’t fail to notice the soft glow on the wall as he approached his bedroom, the muted sounds of people talking also filling the silence. If he had checked his phone he would have known that you were waiting for him, hoping to catch him early like the good girl you were. You had caught his clipped tone as he called you letting you know he landed. Whilst those types of phones never normally lasted long they certainly weren’t 30 seconds. So using the spare key he gave you ‘in case of emergencies’ you went to his house. Waiting for him to return so you could give him a proper welcome home. If only he didn’t stop at the bar on the way home - you would have been awake to give him the greeting. 

Upon seeing your frame in his sheets his body eased, the tension in his muscles fading. Your perked little ass peaking out in greeting as you swung your leg over the plush bedding. The sight only was enough to make his blood run south, his already fuzzy brain now overflowing with the need to sink into your warmth. It was like the universe heard his pleas for a pleasant fuck his entire ride home, for you to be greeting him in his favourite shirt. You didn’t react as his hands landed on your hip, pushing the fabric that covered your lower half up. Your skin was always so soft against his rough hands. He sighed at the sight of the underwear…the wrong colour underwear. Frustration quickly replaced the lust. You were going to greet him like this and not even give him the pleasure of sinking into you - betting on the idea that you would be awake when he arrived. 

He should have waited, or at least tapped your cheeks until you woke up for him but the throb in his trousers was becoming too persistent for him to ignore. He knew you were a deep sleeper anyway so that wouldn’t work. “Fuck it” he grumbled. The air escaped the duvet as he sat down to undo his boots each one dropping to the floor with a loud thud. His belt was next, making sure the cold metal tapped against your thigh. Still no flinch, no movement. His trousers dropped as he stood up, his tip poking through the fabric of his boxers, stretching it thin with the strain. 

He groaned in relief as he finally freed himself, his cock thumping against his stomach as he touch it. It wasn’t soft, not in the slightest. It hung heavy, pointing eagerly towards your sleeping form. It swayed as he approached the bed, his hands easily manoeuvring you into the correct position. His shirt hiked up enough to expose your breasts. Your lips were parted letting out soft snores, your eyebrows pinched together for just a moment before easing back into their usual state. He could see the darkened gusset of your underwear, your arousal making the fabric stick to you. It was wrong for him to do this he knew it. He was the one to suggest the stupid rule, the colour coding of your underwear to ensure you always consented. 

But he couldn’t help peeling away the fabric exposing your beautiful cunt to his needy cock. His fingers gathered some of your juices, ensuring to play with your clit to help you rise from your pretty little dreams. You didn’t have anything to worry about maybe that's why you looked so peaceful as you slept—looking like a perfect angel on his sheets, a gift from the heavens in thanks for all his hard work. He often found himself wondering what you dreamt of. If his cock pleases you in your dreamscape just like it did in real life. 

Leon could help but take in one of your peaked nipples, sucking on it harshly as his cock began to prod at your entrance. The tip slowly enters the tight hole with little resistance however he watched as your hand began to rub at your eyes. Allowing them to ease with the bright light of the TV as you slowly woke up. “Leon?” You mumbled blinking up at the form that now hovered above you. “Silly girl, couldn’t even wait up for me to get home” He grunted as he began to inch inside, your walls fluttering as you welcomed him. Your head moved back against the sheets, arching your body ready for him to go deeper. “Had to help myself to you. Even though you don’t have the right colour on. Silly girl” 

You saw the underwear where he discarded them to the side of the bed, the black lace staring at you instead of the pink you should have worn. Guilt washed through you, you tried to make it perfect. Picking out his favourite shirt, lying on the bed with your ass perfectly on the display of the door but you forgot about the rule, hoping to stay awake to receive his greeting in a less hazy mind. You mumbled against the soft bedding before, pouting your lip out pathetically hoping he would believe you. Leon liked you this way, your body was easier to bend in the way he wanted. Your whines were always drawn out and at a higher pitch. It was like his own little porno, a live viewing as he watched his cock cram into your tight cunt. 

He should have been more gentle, not gripping bruises into your hips. Leaving fingerprints on your plush skin. He shouldn’t be forcing your breasts to bounce at the speed they did as his pelvis slammed you up the bed but it felt so damn good. Too damn good. “If I hadn’t seen the little display you put on me, I wouldn’t have realised you actually wanted it” He grunted into your ear. You didn’t fight it, graceful accepting his brutal pace as your punishment. The pain of his hips slapping against yours turned into pleasure the deeper he hit. The tip of his cock caresses the entrance of your cervix. 

Leon smirked at the sight of you, sprawled on the bed beneath him. Your bottom lip is red and raw from tugging on it. Your eyes were still shut as small mumbles spewed out of your mouth. You still weren’t fully awake, probably assuming this would have been a really good dream. The type that used all your senses and the throbbing need of your clit in the morning. “Not even awake yet are you? Yet still in your lucid state, you are pathetically needy for my cock” 

You whined in response, words failing you as the pleasure began to increase. Your clit was pressed against the soft layer of fat he was slowly building in his older age, the whisps of hair that decorated it adding even more friction against your twitching clit. “I like you this way, so fucking easy for me to take my frustrations out and you just take it like the whore you are” His words only swirled in your head adding to the dizziness that was already there. One of his hands moved to pin your own above your head stretching your body out in front of him. Leon’s lips latched onto one of the peaked nipples sucking on the flesh harshly, his teeth biting into the sensitive bud smirking at the small gasps that would leave your lips. 

Even in your sleepy state, you were close, he could tell. Your walls gripped at him like a vice it became harder to move his hips as you sucked him in. 

You were always so tight, so wet just for his cock…he didn’t even warm you up like he normally would. He watched as tears began to pool in the corners of your eyes, your legs wrapping tightly around his waist drawing him closer to you and trapping him in your sweet heat. He loved it. Craved it. He thought about it every chance he got, spilling himself on the sheets of hotel rooms. How he found you he didn't know, how he got you so obedient to his ever sexual need and desire. It was a fucking miracle, a gift. Leon let go of your wrists, tracing your lip with his thumb smirking at the drool that now drenched the digit. 

His thrusts slowed, the pleasure that had built up now quickly fading. Your hips grind against him desperately to keep it burning. Your protests came out in a jumbled mess, your sleepiness still preventing them from forming properly. “Come on look at me as you cum love, I want to see those pretty eyes” 

His grip was firm on your chin as he redirected your face to look at him. Your cheeks squished slightly. He smiled at your teary eyes as they met his, the glossy look causing his cock to twitch inside you. “There you are” 

Leon began to piston his hips again, the pace slowly increasing to the speed in which he was doing before. He kept your face there, watching as the tears spilled out the corners blending in with the few strands of hair that lay messy around the pillow. Your eyebrows contorted in pleasure as you finally felt it again. That searing white hot pleasure that made your lower half go just as fuzzy as your head. It was sweet that despite your current headspace you knew you still needed to wait for his permission, to allow yourself to let go. Your whimpers turned into moans. Matching his own as he felt you clench and flutter around him. Your nails dug crescents into his skin, leaking red lines in their wake as you clawed at him in begs. In hopes, he’ll permit you to do what you want. 

You almost missed his nod if it weren't followed by the words you wanted you hear. Your orgasms shattered through you. Your thighs shook around his waist their grip loosening as your muscles relaxed almost like he had just fucked you back asleep. Your soft whimpers and pants caused him to finally spill inside you. His load warmed you up just as you slept peacefully once more. The tension finally faded from his shoulders, the aches in his muscles gone for just long enough he could relax.

Leon didn’t pull out of you, his cock still snug inside as it softened. Instead, he admired you, your frame. You were so precious, so innocent for him. Begging for his attention, giving up your own when he accidentally snapped on the phone earlier. His life was shit, growing worse as he aged each year. His lifelong work contract growing more demanding adding more trauma to his already tired shoulders. You were simple compared to the other things in his life, consistent and simple. A divine treat after a job well done. Neither of you minded that was all you could be, your relationship would never grow from that. Mutually understanding the sex was all you needed to get by. 

And in his complicated world…simple looked pretty good wrapped around his cock like this. 

[wizard-on-whales]

I've literally had this stuck in my head for as long as I've been obsessed with him but imagine being highschool sweethearts with him...

Like you guys were inseparable when you were kids. Your houses were right across the street from each other and you were the only kids on the block so you always played together. You would ride your bikes through the streets, go to the arcade, play in a nearby creek. When you two got older your spot by the creek became a place to escape from family issues, you'd pass a joint and a beer back and forth, and just talk about your futures. Then when Senior prom came around his brother and your mom forced you two to go together even though neither of you wanted to go to prom in the first place. Half way through the night you'd ditch and go to your spot in the woods. You'd both be a giggling mess, drunk on spiked punch as you fall to the ground together, him holding you in his arms, making fun of your poofy dress once more. But secretly he loved it, his heart had been racing all night, his hands sweaty every time you'd smile at him. Now that you were on top of him, giggling away, he kissed you. He didn't know what overcame him but he did it anyway. You kissed back. Neither of you had felt this way about each other before, but now that it happened a whole new world of feeling opened up. All those years together, all of those memories, became something more in one moment.

You two continued to grow together, supporting each other through everything with a tight hold on each other's hands. James band blew up, just like you always told him, and he drug you along on tours and to crazy parties. You two would sneak off and make out in corners and in bathrooms, not caring what other people think. In '86 on a hiking trip, he got down on his knee and pulled a ring out, asking you to marry him. Of course you said yes, leaping into his arms and kissing him. You'd get married in 1990, 10 years after you started dating, it would be a small wedding, only your closest friends and family. He performs a song at the wedding for you that he had written, Nothing Else Matters...and it really didn't. Not to him anyway, he could have lost it all, the band, the fame, the money, he could have been living on the streets, but as long as he had you, he still had everything.

Mid 1991 you tell him you're pregnant, you both freak out at first but then realize how beautiful the opportunity is. Both of you came from broken families so the idea of starting a family together, one that would be full of love and laughter, neither of you could pass it up. Ironically enough the baby was born at the beginning of '92, February 10th. What would have been Cliffs 30th birthday. It only seemed right to name your baby boy after him.

A few years later another baby boy follows, Layne. It was a difficult pregnancy which ended in a C-section so you two agree to stop at two. But of course, the desire to have a baby girl outweighed your fears so in 1999 little Julia followed.

James had been struggling with his alcohol addiction, you tried so hard throughout the years to keep him from falling deeper but it couldn't be stopped. It pained you to see him this way, to watch him drink himself half to death. Many nights he'd stagger through the door and pass out on the floor.

Your breaking point was when he hadn't made it inside. He was passed out in the lawn in a pile of his own vomit. He needed rehab, no matter how much he denied it.

The months following were rough for everyone, James, you, the kids, but you pushed through and when he came home it was perfect. He was sweeter than ever, his smile from his youth, the one you fell so hard for, was back on his face.

The years that followed his sobriety journey were sometimes hard but you two made it work, just like you always had. In 2007 you found out that you were pregnant again. Both of you panicked for a while, wondering how you would make another baby work after already having three. Especially since they were getting older now...and so were the two of you. But Stevie was another perfect little angel who was adored by everyone. Her big brother Cliff especially. He was a sweet, sensitive boy who often took care of her without even asking. James and you told him he didn't have to help but he didn't listen.

Everything was perfect as the years continued on, Cliff got married and him and his wife welcomed their first baby in 2017. You and James were ecstatic about the news and the fact that you were grandparents now. It was only then did you realize that all of your dreams had come true, you and James were growing old together just like you always talked about in the spot by the creek. Sometime between 2017 and now, Layne and Julia both got married along the way too. Cliff welcomed two more kids, Layne welcomed his first, another on the way. Julia and her wife were opening a bookstore in Vail together. Stevie was about to graduate high school which seemed unreal.

Now you were here in the kitchen, preparing a Sunday dinner for your whole family, your 4 kids, 3 bonus kids (their wives), and your 4 grandchildren. James had arrived home from the store after you sent him for an ingredient you had forgotten. He stepped into the kitchen with a grin plastered on his face and his hand behind his back.

"what?" You'd say, eyeing him suspiciously as he stepped closer to you. Hed brushed your graying hair out of your face and bring a small flower out from behind his back, placing it on your ear.

"I saw it on the drive home, thought you'd like it," Hed say softly, a boyish smile on his face. You'd smile back, feeling a faint blush on your cheeks. Somehow after all these years he still found ways to whoo you. He'd wrap his arms around you and smile once more before leaning down to press a kiss against your lips. The kiss would be interrupted by the squeals of a few of your grandkids running into the kitchen, wanting attention from him, wanting their grandpa. You'd smile at the sight of him scooping one into each arm, moving to the living room to play with them as you finish up dinner, your heart filled with more love than you ever thought possible.

✭-----------------------------✭

Literally gonna sob

[foreverdolly]

Intolerance cannot be beaten with tolerance. 

I have always written and read as a means to escape from my day to day life, even before the struggles of adulthood was even a blip on the horizon. This blog is a safe space for me. I love hearing that my writing, despite the fact that it is nothing but fanfiction (for now, at least), helps people escape for a little while as well. Whether you’re reading before bed in order to silence your mind for long enough to get some shut eye or pulling up tumblr during a rough and emotional day, somewhere along the way you found your way to me. I cherish the fact that our paths have crossed like this. 

Right now, more than ever, the world feels like a very terrifying place. I hate the idea of lifting the finely tuned veil that I have tried to cast over this blog, what with it being my safe little corner of the internet, but silence is complacency. I refuse to be complacent to what is going on right now in the United States of America. When I woke up on November sixth there was an impending sense of dread. As a woman who had listened to the vitriol from the other side, I was naturally terrified. Waking up and seeing “your body, my choice” plastered on every social media site was nothing short of horrific. There is no woman or girl in this world that has not been violated in some way by a man, whether that be physically, verbally or emotionally. 

I look at the hateful rhetoric disguised as Christian love- pastors preaching about eradicating the queer community. About taking away a woman’s bodily autonomy. About ripping children away from their parents. They paint the progressive thinkers to be monsters. To that I say: who are truly the monsters?

We are more worried about banning drag queen story times than protecting our youth who are being killed whilst trying to do something as innocent as receive an education. Our people are living paycheck to paycheck and we're more focused on stripping people's basic human rights away from them than uplifting the impoverished.

This country takes away social media platforms or buys them out all together as a means to monitor the speech and behavior of its people. It dictates how we will raise and teach our children all while forcing them to assimilate to a consciousness of their own design. Women are dying every day due to health complications. Transgender youth and adults would rather eternally sleep than put up with the constant harassment and erasure. The gay and lesbian communities are having their way of life threatened. . . and for what? 

The states have never seemed this divided. It is no longer a difference of politics but a difference of morals. Beyond even that, it is a total lack of empathy. The vocabulary being thrown around by that side is eye opening: “eradicate”,“purge”,“the reckoning” etc. 

Fear mongering is something that I absolutely abhor, but I truly mean it when I say that these next four years are going to be rough. I am certain that the rules and regulations that will be put into place will affect us for many years to come. We are going backwards- back to a time where people of color were terrified to leave their own homes because of the threat of violence. A time where people couldn’t love who they wanted. A time where women had rights stripped away from them and were seen as little other than cattle. 

If there was ever a time to fight then now would be that time. We all have a voice, no matter how quiet. Use it. 

Reject racism. Reject sexism. Reject classism.

This blog is a safe space for those that are genderqueer, queer, and of color. We are trapped. The fire is coming from inside of the house and sadly we can no longer save those that are throwing themselves into it as kindling. 

If you are scared and need someone to talk to please message me. I will give you my personal discord so that we can chat regularly if you need someone on your side right now.

If you feel alone please know that you are not. 

[kloss-karliee]

her face began to feel warm hearing him speak of working up another appetite together. watching him engulf her French toast. tilting her head to the side "second date? what was our first? i mean, i'm happy to know that you falling on your back on the ice doesn't have to be our memory of a first date to share but..."

enjoying the fruits of her labor, she took a few quick bites of her meal. not realizing just how hungry she was. "i am good." she smiled, giving a good sip of her coffee. she leaned back onto her kitchen island glancing around her home for a moment. a little chuckle escaped from her. she couldn't believe that this was her life that these moments were actually where she stood.

as she stood there she realized that she hadn't spoken in a great amount of time & laughed looking into his eyes. "i'm still beyond amazed that you're here right now. i keep asking myself if this really is my life or if i'm just living in some sort of fantasy world."

"I can promise that your french toast is going to be amazing. I certainly worked up an appetite and I can't wait to work up another one with you." Oliver watched her cook and dance around, he laughed softly as he sipped his coffee.

He was incredibly smitten with this woman watching dance around and cook was the cutest and sexiest thing he had seen in awhile. Oliver laughed and blushed a little as he bowed his head down. "You are not easy and by the way that was technically our second date."

Oliver took his plate and smiled "I think this is going to be the best french toast I will ever have. " He took a piece and put it in his mouth. He let out a little moan after he swallowed. "Baby...this is amazing." He took another bite and released another groan.

[mixolya]

ᓚᘏᗢ — all i want !

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀ᯓ★

pairings﹕ itoshi sae x gn!reader

contents﹕ one shot, angst, wc: 951, proofread

it was always the little things that reminded itoshi sae of you. a song that played on the radio when he was driving, the scent of your perfume lingering in the air, even the sight of a cup of coffee sitting untouched on a counter. everything seemed to pull him back to you.

even though you were no longer in his life, you were everywhere.

you had been his lover. his home.

the days were long and lonely without you by his side. the last time you spoke, everything had been so heated. words said in frustration, things that neither of you truly meant. but sae knew, deep down, that you were right. he had pulled away too much. he had become consumed by his own ambitions, and in doing so, he had lost you.

“i can’t keep doing this,” you had said, tears in your eyes, before you turned away.

and he hadn’t stopped you. he hadn’t known how to fix it.

it had been months, but it felt like no time had passed at all. the empty apartment around him echoed with your absence. he'd tried to move on, but the more he did, the more it felt like he was running in circles. every achievement, every victory, felt hollow without you there to share it with him.

one night, he sat by the window, staring out into the city, the lights twinkling like stars. the world outside was alive, but inside, he was suffocating.

he reached for his phone, scrolling through the contact list, his finger hovering over your name. he wanted to reach out, to tell you he was sorry, but he didn’t. he didn’t think you wanted to hear from him.

but the truth was, sae had never known how to express what he was feeling. his pride always got in the way. he was too proud to admit he had made a mistake, too proud to show vulnerability. but now, with you gone, that pride didn’t mean anything.

everything reminded him of you. the places you had been, the way you laughed, the way you made him feel like he wasn’t just some soccer star, but someone who mattered.

weeks later, after days of wandering through his thoughts, he found himself standing in front of the café you used to frequent. he didn’t know why he was here. maybe it was the hope of seeing you, of getting one last glimpse of what he had lost.

he walked inside, his eyes scanning the room. and there you were. sitting by the window, looking out at the world like you always did. you hadn’t noticed him yet, and part of him wanted to turn around and leave, to avoid the awkwardness of seeing you after so long. but he couldn’t.

you were still there.

he walked up to your table, his heart racing.

“y/n,” he said, his voice soft.

you looked up, your eyes wide with surprise. the tension in the air was thick, both of you standing at the crossroads of something neither of you could fully name.

“sae?” you asked, your voice a mixture of confusion and something else - something he couldn’t quite place.

he nodded, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. “i didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, but there was something desperate in his tone that you couldn’t ignore. “can i sit?”

you hesitated but then nodded. he took the seat across from you, his gaze never leaving yours.

there was silence between you, a weight neither of you could escape. he knew he had hurt you. and yet, the words he needed to say seemed to elude him.

“i'm sorry,” he said quietly, his voice heavy with regret. “for everything. for not being there. for pushing you away.”

you looked down, your fingers tracing the rim of your coffee cup. “sae, you don’t get it. it wasn’t just about you not being there. it was about you never trying.”

his chest tightened. he knew you were right. he had been so caught up in his career, in proving himself, that he hadn’t realized how much he was losing in the process.

“i know,” he whispered. “i know, and i don’t know how to fix it. i don’t know if i can.”

you met his gaze then, and for a brief moment, the walls between you both seemed to crumble. you could see the vulnerability in his eyes, something he never let anyone see. but it wasn’t enough.

“i can’t keep waiting for you, sae,” you said, your voice trembling. “i can’t keep pretending like this is all okay when it’s not.”

he closed his eyes, his heart heavy with the truth of your words.

“i know,” he said again. “but everything reminds me of you. every single thing. i can’t escape it.”

you stood up, your chair scraping against the floor. “i can’t do this, sae. i wish things could have been different, but…”

you didn’t finish your sentence. you didn’t need to.

and he didn’t try to stop you.

as you walked away, sae sat there, the ache in his chest growing with every step you took.

he had everything he’d ever wanted - except the one thing he couldn’t keep.

he went back to his apartment, the same empty apartment where everything reminded him of you. he went to the window again, staring out at the city, but it felt colder this time. more distant.

he had lost you. and no matter how much he wanted to change it, no matter how many times he wished for things to be different, it wouldn’t make a difference.

you were gone.

and now, everything would always remind him of you.

© mixolya 2025. do not copy, remake or edit any of my works.

[a-romantics-guide-to-life]

ᯓ ᯓ kryptonite kisses ᯓ ᯓ ⋆˙ ✮

clark can't seem to take his lips off of yours for even one second aka your lips are kryptonite, weakening him (but if that what it takes for you to keep you close to him, cest la vie)

tags: fluffyyyy, kisses, you work together, established relationship

FIRST CLARK FICLET!! def not the last bc i am so weak for this man already but i hope you enjoy!

You rub your forehead, the words on the page in your hands blurring together. How is it possible for one writer to make so many mistakes? The red pen tucked on your ear was running on its last legs of ink. You were convinced that the person who wrote this sham of an article deserved to be sent back to the kindergarten. And they also definitely needed glasses because who in their right mind would ever write a sentence as atrocious as “Superman’s strengths lied in his sooper abilities of strong because his face was a zero out of ten.”

“When I catch the person who wrote this, they’ll never ever write again. I won’t let them.” You mutter, taking your red pen and scribbling furiously, nearly ripping the paper out of anger.

A resounding laugh echoed in your office all of a sudden, you looked up to meet the familiar voice's face. Beautiful blue eyes stared back at you, glasses framing his strong nose and handsome face. You smile, setting your pen down as the man walks to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“What are you whispering furiously?” He smirked.

“Only this stupid article titled ‘Superman, only is he really that super?’” You sigh, lifting the paper for the tall man behind you. He lets out another chuckle, taking the papers as he starts to read the obscene article.

His deep voice starts to read the words under his breath, a few amused snorts escaping his thinned lips.

“Go back to elementary school? Such kind words darling.”

You laugh standing up and taking the papers from his hands, throwing them back to your desk. You walk up to him, your chest meeting his as you look up to gaze at the tall man.

“What would you have me say Clark? ‘You can’t write for shit, who spells super as sooper’?” He laughs, hands coming up to your arms, rubbing up and down. Your shoulders loosen under his powerful touch. 

“That’s certainly one way to communicate how whoever wrote that needs an immediate ride to the hospital because I think that they may have a severe concussion,” he hums, “Do ya think they’ll let me fly them to the hospital?”

You laugh, resting your head in the space between his shoulder and neck. You wrap your arms around his broad chest, “I don’t think that’s the best idea, Superman.” You whisper the last part.

Clark looks down at you, smiling at the very ‘secretive’ smile you give him. You made him feel as if he was the only one in the world, the way your bright eyes lit up every time you smiled. On a planet of 7 billion and a universe with who knows how many more species and people, you were the only one to make his chest swell with giddiness and elation.

He presses a kiss to your forehead, moving away from you so he could help you pack your things. You smile as you begin to plan your night in your head. Superhero movies, beer for Clark while you sipped on a nice red Clark bought you, and of course tipsy kisses which would probably lead to much more.

You mindlessly organize the articles you needed to edit on your desk, taking home a few that you could finish later. You smile, thankful it’s time to go home and spend the rest of your night with Clark.

“What are you smiling about over there? Surely the first page of the article I wrote about Superman isn’t that interesting.”

Your eyes snap to the page underneath your fingertips only to see a photo of the Man of Steel with the words “by Clark Kent” underneath the photo. 

You laugh, “sorry Clark, just excited to spend some time with you is all.” You smile, quickly packing up the rest of your things, your heels clacking on the tile floors of your office to catch up with your boyfriend. 

He smiles, taking your briefcase, which Clark noted was worn out and much cuter than the one he used, from your hands. He moves everything he’s holding to his left hand, cradling your hand in his. You smile, holding your coat in your other arm as you two walk to the elevator.

You press the button, letting your hand fall from Clark’s. He immediately pouts, much like a puppy or even Krypto, his shoulders sagging. You laugh at his antics, leaning to kiss him on the cheek. 

Clark’s heart immediately stop, the world seemingly halting as he looks at you, a gentle smile on your lips. He tilts his head to you, pressing his lips to meet yours in a soothing kiss. 

You lean in, your nose catching on his glasses. Your lips danced together, your hand going up to cradle his cheek. Your hand rubbed against his strong jaw as his lips continued to ravage yours. 

He released your lips for a second, his hand shooting up to throw his glasses into his pocket. He throws your bags and his own coat to the ground to wrap his strong arms around your waist, hoisting you up against him. Your hands immediately shoot up to his face, bringing him closer to you. 

Your breaths between kisses grew heavier and heavier, your lips tingling with passion and need as you greedily took Clark’s lips. His hands started to roam across the small of your back, your waist, your ass. His lips greedily latch onto yours, stealing ever sigh and groan escaping your messy pink lips. 

Suddenly the elevator dinged, your head shooting to the open metal door, praying that no one was inside. 

Clark laughs, noting your fear. He sets you down, kissing your nose and cheek before swiftly putting his glasses back on, patting his coat to rid it of any dirt, and grabbing your bags from the floor. You shyly do the same to your own coat, slipping your arms through the velvety sleeves as you walk to the elevator. 

You and Clark both reach to press the garage button at the same time. Your eyes lock on to each other, goofy smiles and chuckles drowning out the music playing of the crackly speakers. 

“Let me take you out on a date darling.” Clark takes your hand, kissing the ring you wore on your middle finger. 

You nod, your hand shaking away from his own. You cradle his face as the elevator continues it’s descent into the abyss of the lower floors.

You lean in once more, kissing his lips. You quickly move away from him though as the elevator doors open once more, sprinting away to your car before Clark could trap your lips once again in heaven. 

As you move hastily to your car, you hear Clark mumble “damn you and your kryptonite kisses.”

You laugh, opening the doors for Clark as he scrambled to get you inside presumably to catch your lips once again in a kiss.

[distantlcver]

Councillor!Sevika + Wife!Sevika x Fem!Reader

- married life and stuff :)

“Any mistakes are made out of pure hatred and disrespect for this language. The English have taken enough from this world, I will not let them have my tongue as well.” -ao3 author

She watches the Food Network in her free time and the cooking segments on PBS on the weekends to destress. Sitting on the council is not the most appealing in terms of engagement and overall work expectations, not to mention her “uppity colleagues,” as she calls them.

It’s mindless and empty, but entertaining enough to grab her attention—a small escape from the towering piles of paperwork, files, and documents she has to look over before the sun rises again. She’ll lean back on the sofa, shedding the day's stress, and watch skilled hands assemble a gourmet bolognese or some fancy steak arranged like a flower with hand-churned and seasoned butter.

She’ll tuck you under her arm, play with your hair as you watch together, and point to the final dish on the screen before she scoffs:

“I could make that shit,” she mumbles. “Of course, honey,” you say, and kiss her hand.

neither of you could make that shit

─────── ✶ ───────

After many failed attempts at communication—when emotions were high and the air especially tense—you both came to an agreement that something had to change.

She watches her tongue around you and tries (emphasis on tries) to mind her temper and regulate any frustrations that come with the day job. She’s mindful of her language, making sure not to curse when speaking to you as a sign of respect and overall consideration. It takes time, and she’s not perfect, but she tries.

That doesn’t stop her from the occasional string of curses you hear coming from the home office when she encounters errors in paperwork or remembers another meeting she has to attend.

In turn, you try to be more patient and understanding of the dedication and time her new role takes from your time together.

You visit her during lunch and push dinner back late to make sure you both can eat together. You walk her home from work on nights when she’s in the office particularly late.

She puts an and to the reeaaalll quick refusing to let you walk the streets alone so late at night. She scolds you for insisting, arguing that you’re just too impatient, and stubborn.

“You’re too cute, baby. Someone’s gonna snatch you up,” "I'm not a child sev-," "I know baby, but Just wait for me please ," she whispers, "I’m always comin' home—you know that.”

─────── ✶ ───────

She has an extensive collection of old R&B and jazz records she plays when fixing things around the house or doing chores. Mindlessly tapping and humming along to the beat

Her record player is an old, shoddy thing she built herself as a teenager, made out of recycled parts she found in scrap yards and junk drawers. the speakers muffle to sound every now and then blending together the lyrics with the background vocals and acoustics.

Even with her role on the council —and more-than-satisfactory salary, she refuses to buy a new one.

She plays Marvin Gaye’s “Mercy Mercy Me” on repeat while working and swings you around to “Two Can Have a Party,” because neither of you can really dance.

─────── ✶ ───────

✧ small bonus

She insists on fixing everything herself and doesn’t believe in hiring anyone to do anything.

her philosophy: “If I can’t fix it, I shouldn’t own it,”

When you finally hire someone behind her back, she hovers incessantly, making sure they don’t mess anything up, mumbling curses whenever they touch something. She side-eyes you with a *what the fuck* look.

─────── FIN ───────

[sissybabycucksophia]

The Adult Baby Adoption Part 4

(This story is complete fiction and although i may desperately wish it isn’t, there is no fact or real world experience behind this story, and themes reflected in the story may be triggering, these themes are not my actual beliefs and are only part of a fantasy kink scenario. Also non of the images belong to me)

As the event ended and Daddy forced me out the church doors towards the car I watched as other ABDL’s were lead to their vehicles, though I looked around desperately looking to catch a glimpse of the poor girl in the same position as me. However to no avail, reaching the car door daddy removed my restraints only for me to then be hoisted up into the car and tightly secured in the seat restraints. “Please daddy is this really necessary….” I whimpered as he slammed the door shut.

“Of course they’re necessary! They’re there for your protection, a feeble little fragile girl like you~ now i understand that today has been exciting and overwhelming for you Jade! So I think you should have a nap on the drive home!” Daddy said to me much to my disgust and humiliation, before i could retort he had covered by eyes with a girly pink satin sleep mask and stuffed a large pacifier in my mouth. Sitting totally unable to make, in a beyond pathetic dress I could feel the ruffles up and down the front of the bodess sway with each turn and corner the car took. To afraid to spit out the paci I sat in silent contemplation of what had just happened to me. My chances of escaping to normality were disappearing faster than my diaper was filling with nervous peepees, but even knowing that I had now watched as my name was Legally changed and as I was condemned to a life of girly dress… to my self disgusted, my small penis was fighting against the even smaller chastity cage to get hard! Did I actually want this deep down? Was I gay? Or Trans? Or just a depraved freak turned on by humiliation and utter absolute domination?.

Eventually Daddy pulled up outside the huge building he… now we… lived in. Stopping the engine he climbed out and walked round, opening my door he begun to free me from the car restraints. Helping me out of the car he fixed the skirt of my dress while strangers walked by looking at the grown adult dressed in a child inspired communion dress. Glowing red with embarrassment daddy stood up handing the keys too the vallet and took my hand walking me inside. Despite my prayers to this god i didn’t believe in we were stopped by several of the staff to which daddy further humiliated and embarrassed me as he told them with pride how I was officially now Jade Ulysses Carmichael his daughter. Mortified and ashamed at how aroused it all made me i remained silent until we reached the elevator. Once in the elevator and moving I felt so tired I couldn’t stop myself from leaning by head against Daddy to which he said, “its ok Jade, dinner time then beddie byes for you little girl~” Daddy said gently stroking my wig. Shame washed over me knowing it couldn’t be much later than 5pm, I dreaded to think or even ask how early bedtime was going to be.

Reaching the penthouse Daddy unlocked the door and in we went. However instead of going straight to my pathetic pink bedroom he would reach into his satchel and pull out a certificate, telling me to hold it he insisted I smile for a picture, “there we go, day one in your scrap book!” Daddy said before then leading me to my bedroom and beginning to completely undress me. Once stood totally naked all except for my chastity cage, diapers and necklace, daddy would go to the drawers of my cabinet and pull out possibly the most pathetically juvenile looking night dress. Having seen this exact item on shelfs for actual children I looked on in horror as instead this looked to have been custom made to fit an adult, before I could think to protest Daddy had it over my head and begun guiding my arms into the sleeves of the thick fleecy nightdress. The gown had been altered to my exact high and was so long it skimped the floor at the bottom, around my wrists the elastic cinched tight and all down the front of my pathetically covered form were the images of disney princesses. Then taking me by the hand Daddy sat me at the makeup table where he proceeded to use two big pink scrunchies too split the wig on my head into 2 low pigtails on either side of my head. “Now Jade, give me your hands baby~” daddy said as from the drawers next to the makeup table he would produce a pink pair of satin mittens.

“Don’t you think this is a bit much Daddy!??” I whimpered simply to be met by daddy grabbing one wrist at a time and sliding my hands into the mittens each of which was then tied tightly in place by pink ribbon. Inside each mitten was a wealth of thick fleecy material making it almost impossible to grab anything with the mittens on, “Nonsense little girl! I don’t believe what that politician Nick said about all women is right…. But it weirdly applies well to you and me’s dynamic as Father too Rebellious Sissy Daughter. Remember Jade…. Your Body… MY Choice” Daddy said with an evil and manipulative grin as he then turned to the base of the bed picking up girly pink fluffy slipper boots which he crouched down, raising my nightdress and pushed onto my feet. “But daddy this nighty is humiliating and so are the mittens. Can I please just be a tomboy girl? I don’t wa…..” I was then rudely interrupted in my moans by a very large pacy being shoved in my mouth. “Baby girl~ you are most definitely not old enough or mature enough to know what you want~” Daddy replied leading me into the open plan living room dining area.

There sat the end of the table was a bright pink adult sized high chair, however on the arms of the chair appeared to be restraints. Despite my resistance I was hoisted up into the chair, a strap fastened around my waist to the back of the chair and pinned my wrists down too the arms. “Now you sit here little girl~ I’m going to grab your din dins” Daddy said pinching my cheek. Then leaving me helplessly sat there in my pathetically juvenile clothing and bound to the high chair, Daddy disappeared to the kitchen.

Returning 10 minutes later he would set down in front of me on the table of the highchair a plate of fish chips and mushy pees… 3 things i simply despised especially all at once. Removing the paci from my mouth I begun to protest, “stop this madness! You’ve read my file you know I hate these foods! Stop this insanity its not funny! This is hostage taking and torture you horrible man!!” I growled, ignoring me Daddy would place a princess covered bib around my neck. Then picking up a pink plastic princess adorned spoon he began to try to shovel it into my mouth. Keeping my lips tight shut I was disgusted as he then simply smooshed the contents of the spoon all over the lower half of my face!. The more I resisted the more he made me look like a messy child who kept missing their mouth. However as i finally decided to allow a spoonful of the disgusting mushy pees to violate my mouth, my heart would feel like it stopped as suddenly there was a loud knock at the front door. Nervously swallowing the disgusting mouthful I looked round at the front door from my highchair as Daddy got up and walked towards it. Who was it? It couldn’t possibly be that girl from the church that I’d told to ask for a playdate? Who was it.

“Ah Cynthia my sweet! Come in, I’m just finishing feeding time for little Jade then I’ll be good to commence with our usual affairs~” daddy said as he invited a beautiful 6ft french woman with long perfectly straight shiny black hair and thin rimmed big round black spectacles on into the house. She was stunning, plump perfectly shaped lips covered by matte blood red lipstick which matched her formfitting ankle length blood red rouched figure hugging dress, over that she wore a shiny black crop puffer jacket and wore black doc martin boots. Each finger nail tipped with long pointed blood red fake nails, the woman grabbed daddy’s face gently and planted a kiss on his lips before walking into the room and seductively walking toward my chair. Beneath my diapers i could feel my cage get tight as the sight of such a beautiful woman began to make me horny, well that and the embarrassment of being seen in my current state by such a beautiful woman. “Little Jade? Wait is that him? The one you told me about? I mean I knew you said he was slender and petite enough to be made into a girl but I was skeptical~” the woman said with a mix of seduction and shock as she pointed at me. Mortified I remained quiet as daddy walked over replying “She! She is just adorable no? I told you she has beautiful blue eyes did i not?” Daddy said as he used the bib to wipe away the food around my mouth.

Looking directly at me the woman spoke to me, “hello little Jade~ Im Cynthia Serdano, I’m your daddy’s frequent fuck buddy… then again judging by the look of you princess, you’ve never had one of those hmm? Consider me your Mommy then~” the woman teased as she pinched my cheek. The sheer degradation and humiliation made the tightness in my cage almost unbearable. “Thats enough now C, Jade is very close to her bedtime and its been a long busy day for her~” daddy replied as he loosened the wrist restraints and removed the table. Looking at her phone which she pulled from her jacket pocket the womans face appeared aroused, “bedtime? Its only 6:50pm? You mean your forcing this grown ass man you’ve caged, diapered and dressed as a girl to go to bed at 7pm? God the control and dominance your exerting over him is getting me…. Excited~” Cynthia cooed as she begun caressing his bicep.

“Then maybe you should come watch me put MY property to bed~” Daddy said as he scooped his arms under mine and lifted me out of the chair. Setting my feet on the floor he then took my hand dragging me to the bedroom. “Daddy please stop this is too embarrassing, please just let me stay up. Im a grown up!” I begged, however as i said that I felt Cynthia grope my thickly diapered ass. “That’s interesting Jade, I don’t know many grownups who need diapers… now be quiet its bed time!” Cynthia teased as daddy dragged me into the pink monstrosity of a bedroom.

Sitting me at the makeup table looking towards the bed, Daddy would remove the fluffy slipper boots and replace them with a pair of strange booties which had a strap along the sole of the foot. When tightening my feet were forced into a curled position pulling my toes towards my heels. “Daddy what are these for? I don’t think I can walk in these!” I pleaded as I watched him walk to the wardrobe full of all my future devices of embarrassment and begin searching for something as he retorted smugly “Thats the point Jade, those are Forced crawl booties. That way I know your not going anywhere fast while my back is turned!”

As I tried not to look at Cynthia who stood looking turned on and as though she could ravage Daddy at any minute, Daddy would pull out a monstrosity that made my heart sink, my penis strain in its cage and even made Cynthia giggle. Walking toward me daddy held on a hanger a Full body enveloping pink fleece sleepsack, closed mittened hands attached to the sleeves, a fleece bag with no opening along the bottom and a high cuff neck line with the zipper running down the front. I began to whimper “Please don’t daddy, please it’s embarrassing in front of Miss Cynthia. Please im not a baby I don’t need this please!!!”. At that daddy unzipped the sleepsack and handed it to Cynthia. “Nonsense Mommy Cynthia will think you look adorable in this” Daddy smiled to me as he then looked to Cynthia, “When I pick up my humiliated little sissy boy, your going to get his legs into the sleep sack and guide his arms into it. Make sure his pathetic little nightie sits right too will C!” Daddy said as he appeared to break character and refer to me as a sissy. Cynthia giggled as she followed his instructions, “as you say… Sir~ god your so hot right now you sissy humiliating, beta male controlling king!” Cynthia cooed as she moved closer.

Stunned I remained silent until hoisted into the air by daddy’s hands under my armpits I tried to wriggle and struggle as the sleepsack was humiliatingly wrapped around my body. As my already mittened hands were forced into mittened sleeves I quickly began to realise my hope of being able to grab the zipper too remove the monstrosity after they left was pretty slim. Once both arms were in the sleepsack I was sat back down on the stool. Crouching down before me Daddy would then grab the zip, dragging it up the sleepsack I could feel the degradation and humiliation climb with every inch the zip climbed until eventually it was fully zipped up. From a drawer beside me Daddy pulled a pink heart shaped timer lock which he slipped through 2 locking rings and the zipper, clicking it in place under my chin I unfortunately couldn’t see the time he put in the lock but given how this bedtime routine had been going I wasn’t expecting it to be quick. As I sat there with my masculinity disappearing quicker than my hopes of freedom I looked down at my now pink fleece sleepsack encased body and fell into an almost trance like state as I contemplated my patheticness. So entranced and overwhelmed as too my predicament I simply didn’t bat and eyelid as over my head was placed a pathetic looking pink bonnet which Cynthia took great pride in securing and giggled as she tied its long white ribbons into a bow under my chin.

However I quickly snapped back to reality as I saw and felt Daddy begin to attach and tightly secure a thick fluffy padded belt around my waist which had 2 smaller cuffs attached by short links at either side of my waist. “Hey! Wait a minute! Whats this for! Haven’t you debased and degraded me enough!??” I growled forgetting that no matter how masculine I might think I am I’m in no position to fight or argue. “C help me out here will you babe! Grab that arm and secure the cuff around this pathetic faggots wrist will you!” Daddy grunted as despite my resistance and lashing out the 2 overpowered me and before i knew it my arms were restrained by my sides unable to move my wrists more than 6 inches from my waist. Growling and shaking in anger while violently trying to get my arms free I roared “get this shit off of my to perverted freak!! Fuck your contract from the agency!! There isn’t a court in the land that would force me to keep enduring this bullshit!!”

At that Ulysses crouched down clamping one hand onto my crotch and grabbing my cheeks squeezing my face together he looked me dead in the eyes with an anger that equalled or even surpassed my own. “Look faggot! Listen to me…. See this caged cock down here under all those layers!? It’s irrelevant! Your never going to be a man again!! Look at you!! You never were!! A real man would be in a position to stand up and punch me out right now for grabbing their groin!! Can you do that JADE!! NO because not only are you not a man but your MY play thing! I paid to get an abdl, Im your legal decision making guardian and if you don’t want me to book the procedure to chop off your caged clitty and sissy stones for tomorrow then you’ll realise I can be a good daddy to you like i have been and not hurting you or I can treat you like a piece of shit!!” Daddy growled as my eyes filled with tears. Hearing him say how a real man would stand up right now and punch him out made me feel weak as despite trying I could barely make a fist under my 2 layers of mittens let alone swing a punch thanks to the restraints. Letting go of my face he stood up and looked down on me, “god your so hot right now Ulysses~” Cynthia cooed as she begun to hang off his arm and stroke his cheek.

“NO please you can’t take them from me please dont do that im sorry ok, just please don’t book that appointment” I howled as tears poured down my cheeks and snot began to run out of my nose. There I was, the perfect vision of a baby girl, crying and struggling under all the layers. All that made worse by Cynthia laughing hysterically at me, the more she laughed the more I whaled like a helpless baby. “C can you go pull back to covers while I get Jade here finished and ready for bed, thanks to her little tantrum shes 10 minutes late too bed!” Daddy said to Cynthia as she appeared to compose her, nod and go to the large 4 posted bed and fold back the frilly pink heavy covers. Approaching me again, Daddy would bend down and kiss my forehead before gently placing a pacifier in my mouth, then strapping if in place with a locked strap. “Ssshhh I know Jade, your outburst was because your tired~ daddy knows, lets get you to go beddy byes~” he said softly as he scooped me up in his arms in a princess carry. Feeling myself carried like a princess and knowing I was powerless too break free or stand up to Ulysses made my caged so tight the pain and desperation to orgasm were nigh unbearable.

Approaching the bed, daddy lay me down in the middle of the double bed which was a mass of pink frilly heavy satin. With an evil grin Cynthia looked me dead in the eyes as she flung the thick and heavy quilt over my already fleece sleepsack encased body, then walk over and pulled it right up to just beneath my chin. Looking at the bedside table Cynthia picked up the baby monitor, which only humiliated me to know that they’d hear my every move, and held it in front of my face. With daddy behind her he couldn’t see what she was doing with the monitor but as she spoke to me she pointed too a switch on the side of the monitor, “here you see princess~ daddy and I will hear every little peep, movement and impassion moan you make~” she teased as she flipped the switch from the position that said “one way coms” too “two way coms” before placing it on the pillow right next to my ear. “Awww isn’t that sweet of Cynthia to reassure you like that Jade.~ are you gonna say night night~” daddy hummed as he begun to walk out of the room.

Reluctantly from behind the paci gag I sniffled “Nin night” as Cynthia laughed and followed daddy out, switching out the lights I realised there were no windows in my room so despite there still being daylight outside at 7:10pm my room was in darkness accept for the plug in baby nightlight by the door, a door which seconds after daddys exit I heard quite clearly being locked. For a moment I simply lay completely still letting the tears dry into my cheeks in a state of shock, no wonder Cynthia found me funny to look at like this… any normal human would. Acutely aware of my almost inescapable predicament I lay there staring at the ceiling which Daddy had gone to the effort of plastering with self affirming diaper girl mantras like “I am Daddy’s girl” and “Daddy knows best” or “I Need Daddy’s Protection”. Reading each one made me sick to my stomach. However it wouldn’t be long before my attention was ripped from the ceiling mantras as loudly and with unbelievable clarity through the baby monitor came the audio from Daddy’s bedroom. Eyes widening in shock I realised Cynthia had more humiliation planned for me… as if that were possible!

For the next, what seemed like 12 hours but was in fact 2 I was forced to lie there and listen as Daddy and Cynthia had very loud, very passionate and very erotic sex. Over the 2 hours I heard cynthia embolden Daddy’s ego with seductively toned comments like “God the kind of man with the dominance and power to control and humiliate a sissy like that gets me so… fired up~” and “oh god yes!! Thats what a real mans cock feels like!!”. Every comment or thing Cynthia said was obviously designed to turn on Daddy and degrade me… and unfortunately she was succeeding. The passionate sex noises were bad enough but with each comment I would be smashed back into my reality of a caged cock leaking precum into my pink diapers while demoralisingly being forced to be abandon any masculinity.

[grimmweepers]

— ★ contents: dottore x gn!reader. DARK CONTENT AHEAD. DUBCON. degradation. humiliation. masturbation (dottore). boot licking. his shoe on your head. dom/sub dynamics. yandere themes. light choking. no sex. reader has no dialogue. just mean mean dottore. 0.8k. | MDNI. 18+ ONLY | masterlist

( inspired by this art )

Your mother always told you to be careful of the choices you made in life.

“The world is not as kind as you are,” she’d say, thumbing your cheek as though the action itself could shield you from everything cruel.

She would've never approved of leaving home to work for someone like Dottore. Stories of the Harbingers were infamous enough to bleed across their nation's borders and there was no doubt that beneath the surface lay tales far worse than what meets the eye. 

Yet there was no stopping you. Not when he dangled promises in front of you like a forbidden fruit too sweet to resist. “Imagine what you could accomplish under me,” he’d said as if he wasn’t going to trample all your rights in the future.

And you, foolish and full of ambition, had leaped at the chance.

If your mother could see you now…

The thought lingered like a bitter aftertaste as you knelt on the cold, sterile floor of his laboratory. Your cheek pressed against the smooth leather of Dottore’s boot and the weight of it on your head sent a sliver of shame down your spine. 

“You left everything behind to be here,” he mused as he adjusted the angle of his foot. “Tell me, was it worth it?”

You wanted to say no. To scream it, actually. But you felt like you were choking on the consequences of your own choices and worse yet, the humiliation didn’t feel as humiliating as it should’ve been. That part was worrying. 

He tilted his head at you, “Not so talkative now, are we?” His gloved hand reached down, tracing along your jaw before sliding back to clutch his own arousal.

“Pathetic,” he sneered. The toe of his boot nudged your chin, forcing your head upward. “Look at me when I speak to you.”

The intensity of his crimson eyes burned into you, setting fire to whatever shreds of dignity you had left. You wondered what your mother would think if she saw you reduced to this. 

“You’ve been testing my patience lately,” he continued, almost conversationally, as if he weren’t holding you down with his foot. “But I think you like being punished. Isn’t that right?”

“I—” you stammered, but his boot pressed down, silencing you. But even as shame curled in your stomach, you hated the spark of heat that flickered beneath it. 

“Don’t speak,” he ordered. “I’m not interested in excuses.”

“You’ll write to your mother eventually, won’t you?” he mocked you with a grin. “What will you tell her? That you’ve found your purpose? That you’ve devoted yourself to something... meaningful?” A deep hum of pleasure escaped his lips as he palmed his growing bulge, relishing in the poor sight of you.

Within a second, he answered for you first. “Ah, no. That’s not quite right. You haven’t accomplished anything yet...” Dottore chuckled. “But you could. All it takes is for you to follow my lead which, frankly, you’ve been failing at.” 

“W—” He cut off your protest before it could even form.

The pressure increased. “I said don’t speak,” he snapped. “If you want to prove yourself, use that tongue for something worthwhile.”

He lifted his boot slightly, the toe brushing against your lips. Hesitant, you let your tongue dart out, licking at the leather. A small string of saliva ran down your chin, but you didn’t stop. You lapped at the boot like your life depended on it, the bitterness of the polish staining your tongue.

Above you, Dottore hummed again as his hand slid to his belt, the sound of his unbuckling loud in the silence of the room. He began to stroke himself through the confines, where it was twitching terribly as if your tongue was on the real thing. “See…” He groaned softly, his thumb brushing over the head of his cock through the fabric. “Obediency suits you.”

A heavy knot coiled deep inside you, warring with something far more sinister that made the area between your legs clench and ache.

The boot slowly withdrew, leaving your lips tingling. As Dottore suddenly crouched down, his gloved hand gripped your chin to examine your flushed face. His touch was deceptively warm, a stark difference from the icy daggers in his glare. 

“You’ll do more for me, won’t you?” he asked, his thumb brushing over your lower lip. It felt familiar to your mother's touch, only this time the hand that held you came from everything she tried to protect you from.

Since the memory of his prior reprimands kept you silent, you remembered to nod your answer this time.

“Good,” he gave you a type of smile that made your gut churn. Your breath quickened as his hand slid lower, his fingers wrapping lightly around your throat. He leaned in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear. “Good,” he repeated. His grin widened as he saw the conflict in your eyes—the shame, the desire, the submission.

“Now strip,” he demanded, leaving no room for argument. “And get on the examination table.” 

If your mother could see you now, she’d weep for the person you’d become. But for the first time, you weren’t sure if you could weep with her.

You had chosen this.

And now, you were his to be studied under his ever watchful eye, molded into something you shouldn’t admit you craved.

© 2025 grimmweepers — do not repost, copy, translate, modify my work on any platform

divider: @/adornedwithlight

I HOPE ITS OK TO TAG YOU IK IVE BEEN TEASING YOU ABOUT IT FOR SOME TIME @unriding >:)

[ladysharmaa]

Wild hearts

Jasper Hale x original character

Summary: When a new girl arrives at Forks, she seems to catch Jasper Hale's attention. However, he and his family are hiding a secret. What they don't know is that Evelyn has a secret of her own

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3

Evelyn and the Cullens were getting closer, especially Evelyn with Jasper. The family had taken her in and that seemed to be the biggest news at school. The Cullens, who had never spoken to anyone, had become friends with Eve in a matter of weeks. And that only brought even more attention to her.

Jasper would often come to her house to help her study and would also bring food made by Esme, who Evelyn had yet to meet. It wasn't that Jasper didn't want to take her home with him, but he already had to share Evelyn with his siblings, even Edward who had finally gotten over his frustration with not being able to read Eve's thoughts due to the static. He didn't want to have to share her at home too.

However, Evelyn had not forgotten her first friends at all, and made a point of dividing her time between the two groups. Despite being asked about the Cullens' secrets, especially Jessica and Mike, Evelyn never said anything, just rolling her eyes playfully and changing the subject.

She was now in biology class, Jasper by her side, extremely close to her. In fact, it was just to smell Eve's vanilla scent and not focus on the blood circulating through the other students' veins.

They were dissecting a frog, something Evelyn didn't really appreciate from her expression. Jasper laughed slightly at Eve's antics, who almost refused to cut the poor animal's belly. She handed the scalpel to the vampire, telling him he should do it. He accepted without complaint.

However, in the middle of the class, a distracted student slightly cut his finger with the scalpel. Evelyn saw a small drop of blood escape from the cut, and her eyes widened. Beside her, Jasper tensed, his jaw clenched and fists closed. He immediately pulled away from Evelyn and held his breath. The only thing that was stopping him from attacking was Evelyn, but even so he wouldn't be able to maintain control for much longer.

However, Evelyn didn't let him get too far, quickly grabbing Jasper's hand. She suddenly stood up in her chair, making a loud noise that caught the teacher's attention.

"Sorry! Blood, dizzy. I have to leave." She explained as succinctly as possible. The teacher nodded, looking at her strangely. She pulled the vampire with her. "Jasper has to come with me. To help me."

Without waiting for the teacher's answer, the two hurried out of the classroom, going as far away from the room as possible. They were at the end of the hallway, close to the exit doors.

Jasper, who was letting the scent of his mate consume his body, looked at her in surprise. "You know." he whispered.

"Surprise?"

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

Jasper quickly took her to his car, heading to their house. He received a text from Alice saying that they were behind him, having heard what happened thanks to their sharp hearing.

The two remained silent, as Evelyn had said that she would explain it to everyone at the same time, as it would be easier if everyone was present.

Jasper nodded, but asked only one question. "Aren't you afraid of me?"

"No," she answered with certainty. "You don't know, Jasper, but there are many monsters in this world. You and your family are far from that."

They finally arrived at the Cullen mansion, and Evelyn looked at the house in adoration. They lived a little isolated from the rest of the city, near the edge of the forest. The house was large, with lots of glass that let in light. The walls were made of wood, giving it a rustic and classic feel, perfect for the Cullens.

The door opened and Evelyn saw two people, looking older but still extremely beautiful with their pale skin and amber eyes.

"Jasper? Is everything alright?" the woman, who Evelyn realized was Esme, asked. "Is that Evelyn?"

"Yes, hello!" she smiled at the couple, letting Jasper put a hand on her back and lead her to the entrance of the house. "It's very nice to meet you, Mrs. and Mr. Cullen."

"Please, call us Esme and Carlisle. You really are as beautiful as Jasper said." Esme said, opening the door wider for them to enter. Behind them, the rest of the Cullens' cars had arrived and everyone was heading inside, their eyes fixed on Evelyn.

"What's going on?" the clan leader asked, confused.

"She knows." Jasper said simply, but never taking his eyes off Eve.

"Well, I certainly have to tell you the truth now." Evelyn tried to calm her pounding heart. "I wasn't sure what you were, because I've met some of your kind who were… different. But the pale skin, the fact that you never ate, all signs pointed to you being vampires."

Evelyn saw Rosalie open her mouth, but cut her off before she could speak. "Don't worry, Rose, I won't say anything. After all, I have a secret too. And I really don't want it to be revealed."

"You can trust us, darling." Jasper promised, taking a small step toward her unconsciously. He needed to be closer to her.

"I know." She smiled slightly. "I am, this is going to sound weird I know, but I am the daughter of Aphrodite, goddess of love and fertility."

"So you're what? A demigod?" Emmett asked, his mouth slightly open. When Evelyn confirmed, he turned to his wife, "See? I got it right!"

Rosalie rolled her eyes at her husband's antics. Alice was the next to speak, "What does that mean? What can you do?"

"Quite unlike the children of the other gods, I have no powers. I know how to fight, but only because I've been trained since I was three. Demigods, those who are recognized by their parents at least, go to a camp. There we train to… to kill monsters."

"What kind of monsters?" Lucas crossed his arms, bringing Alice closer to him. Jasper glared at him, when he saw Evelyn's face fall.

"Oh, not you. Another type of monster. You know Furies, Minotaur, Mimas, and the list goes on." She revealed, seeing the shocked looks of the vampire clan. "Anyway, I'm just pretty. I attract attention. But the children of Athena are smart, the children of Poseidon can control water. We all live together. And we go on quests to kill monsters and send them back to hell. That's also why I have dyslexia, all demigods have it. We are hyperactive, something that helps in battles."

"You're not just pretty. You're much more than that." Jasper quickly said, completely amazed by the girl.

"Thanks, Jasper. Well, on my last quest I went with my friends, but it didn't go well. I was the only survivor." Evelyn looked up to keep the tears from falling. "I had to get out of there. Try to live a normal life, for them."

The vampires looked at Evelyn sadly. "I never knew demigods were real." Carlisle whispered. He was completely surprised, as was the rest of his family.

"Yes, we try not to let anyone know. Our life is dangerous enough." Evelyn said, after controlling her emotions. What she didn't know, was that Jasper was helping her calm down. "The monsters chase us. They can sense that we are demigods. But here, in Forks, none have found me yet. I think it's because of the presence of so many supernatural beings."

"This is wicked!" Emmett exclaimed.

"So that's why I can't see what you're thinking?" Edward questioned. "Or because Alice didn't see you coming in her visions?"

"Sorry, what?" the blonde raised her eyebrows. "What do you mean?"

"Some vampires have gifts, darling." Jasper explained, now walking the rest of the distance to stand next to Evelyn. His amber eyes looked at her with admiration. "Edward can read minds, Alice can see the future and I'm an empath."

"Oh, wow. That's — wow." The vampire family laughed at Evelyn's reaction. "But yes, maybe that's why. What do you hear in my mind?"

"Just static. It's like a barrier I can't get past." Edward explained.

"That's cool." Evelyn murmured, her eyes wide. "What about you? Do you have another form besides your human one like the vampires I know?"

"No." Carlisle replied, his curiosity heightened by the knowledge that there were other species. "Are you able, if you can, to tell us more about these... vampires?"

"They are extremely beautiful and seductive women under the control of the goddess Hecate. They are known to feed on the blood of men. Their true form is a woman with flaming hair, white skin, glowing red eyes, fangs, one prosthetic Celestial Bronze leg and one donkey leg and wings." Eve explained succinctly. She remembered the first time she had fought an Empousa, it wasn't fun. "The demigods can see her in her true form, so I can tell your species apart. But I don't know a lot about you, we focus more on the mythical creatures."

"We glow when exposed to the sun. And we don't drink human blood, only animal blood, hence the color of our eyes." Evelyn nodded, already knowing that last part. "And we're immortal, of course."

"Same." Evelyn shrugged. The family looked at her in confusion, their eyes wide and eyebrows raised. It seemed as if she was discovering a new world after so many years of life. "Demigods are a bit stronger than a mere human. And we have a few more abilities. But we can still die if we are injured. At twenty, we become immortal, which is when our powers are at their peak."

"How old are you?" Alice asked.

"I'm nineteen." Evelyn informed with a small laugh. "My ritual isn't until next year. So now you know."

Rosalie was the first to snap out of her shock and pulled Evelyn into a hug. Evelyn quickly hugged her back, happy that there were no more secrets, or so she thought. Alice hurried to join them, the three of them giggling, while the rest of the vampires watched them with smiles. They acted like real teenagers when they were together.

After talking to the Cullen family a bit more, she and Jasper went for a walk in the woods. He was somewhat relieved that they had an eternity together, and that he wouldn't have to watch her grow old without him.

"So you can feel what I'm feeling?" Evelyn found the courage to ask. Jasper nodded. "That's a little embarrassing. I don't know why I feel this way around you."

"I know why, darling." He stopped walking, causing Evelyn to stop as well. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

Evelyn lost herself as she looked into Jasper's eyes. They held so much pain, but also adoration for her. But why? The forest had gone silent, even the birds had stopped singing, as if they knew something was going to happen.

Jasper's cool touch on her cheek was soothing, and it made her stomach turn. It was as if every time the vampire touched her, an electric shock spread through her body. All rational thoughts were forgotten and she could only focus on him.

"We're mates. I'm yours. And you're mine."

"I think I need to sit down."

[k1ng-ej]

Hiii bestie >:3 maybe about some fluff with art? Something along the lines where Art kills the readers assaulter/stalker

Devil in disguise

Art The Clown x Reader

Note: first time writing for this silly man and writers block completely messed up how i originally wanted to write this </3

As you tread carefully along the dimly lit sidewalk toward your apartment, you wrapped your arms tightly around yourself, seeking warmth from the biting chill of the night. The hour was late; the roads were deserted, not a single vehicle in sight, and the absence of life around you heightened the sense of isolation. Working the closing shift had left you with the unsettling task of walking home alone in the dark—a decision that felt increasingly unwise with each passing moment. Yet, the lure of extra income was too tempting to resist. Living solo and managing the costs of rent was a constant struggle, and you were barely making ends meet.

You shivered, instinctively rubbing your arms to generate warmth as you walked, your eyes darting around for any lurking threats that might be stalking the vulnerable—like you. Just as you started to relax, convinced there was nothing amiss, your senses remained on high alert.

Before you fully grasped the situation, you found yourself yanked into a shadowy alley and forcefully pressed against a brick wall, your head crashing against it. The world started to swirl around you, and a low groan escaped your lips as you struggled to focus on the figure standing before you. With your head pounding and your ears ringing, a male voice gradually broke through the fog in your mind, barely reaching your awareness.

"Are you listening? I said give me your fucking wallet!" he hissed, pressing something cold to your neck.

You blinked, trying to gather your bearings and carefully deciding your next moves. Cursing under your breath, you held your hands up in surrender. "Fuck man! It's in my right pocket!"

Your attacker pressed the sharp tip of a knife against your throat, while his other hand rummaged through your pocket for your wallet. He lacked caution, and you winced as you felt warm blood begin to trickle down your neck and chest. It felt inevitable, a grim reality you had anticipated. Anger mixed with despair bubbled within you as you realized the repercussions—how would you manage to pay this month’s rent? Meanwhile, the flicker of defiance sparked in your mind, but you questioned your chances against a blade. The odds were stacked harshly against you.

The man in front of you muttered curses under his breath while frantically searching for your wallet, his intense focus momentarily easing the pressure on your neck. This was your chance. You swiftly drove your knee into him, striking him between the legs. He gasped and staggered back, clearly taken off guard. Seizing the opportunity, you bolted out of the dark alley and onto the sidewalk. For a fleeting moment, you contemplated yelling for help, but the late hour reassured you that everyone was likely sound asleep, oblivious to your plight.

Your lungs screamed with exertion as you raced across the street, desperately trying to put space between yourself and your attacker. To your shock, he recovered quickly from the blow and was close on your heels. Distracted by your fear, you failed to see the person in front of you and collided with their chest, stumbling backward with a startled yelp. You immediately began to apologize as you hurriedly scrambled to your feet.

You narrowed your eyes in disbelief as you faced an unexpected figure: a man clad in a striking black and white clown costume. His face wore an emotionless expression, and a black trash bag was slung casually over his shoulder. Despite your instinctive skepticism about this peculiar stranger, desperation drove you to seek his assistance in escaping the knife-wielding pursuer behind you. After all, how threatening could a clown really be?

"Please, I need help! T-there's a guy chasing me-"

“Hey!” Your pursuer has finally caught up, slowing down to a jog behind you. He glanced between you and the clown, donning an innocent smile while concealing the knife behind his back. “Why did you run away? Come here,” he called out, attempting to lure you closer with his free hand, pretending to be your friend.

You stood your ground beside the enigmatic clown, clinging to the hope that he was merely an ordinary person who would come to your aid. You could almost see the gears whirring in his mind as he glanced back and forth between you and your assailant, seemingly grasping the gravity of the situation. A wave of unease washed over you when a sinister grin crept across his face, and without warning, he dropped the trash bag, letting it fall with a series of unsettling clatters. Your attacker, now visibly confused, appeared to lose patience as he brandished the knife threateningly in front of him.

"Listen, if you both don't give me your money now you'll regret it," he threatened, inching closer.

The clown raised a finger, signaling for everyone to hold on, before eagerly rummaging through his trash bag, clearly searching for something particular. You instinctively stepped back from the unfolding scene, your heart pounding in your chest. Uncertainty gripped you; all you wanted was to return to your run-down apartment and sink into the solace of sleep.

The clown retrieved an object from the bag but swiftly concealed it behind his back, wagging a finger at your attacker while beckoning him to approach. With a mix of caution and curiosity, the attacker stepped closer, attempting to catch a glimpse of what the clown was hiding.

In an instant, all that met your senses was the sight of the clown swinging, the vivid red splattering across the scene, and the horrifying sound of a skull cracking. You gasped, recoiling as warm crimson droplets splashed onto your face. With a trembling hand, you brushed one of the blood droplets from your cheek, only to grimace at the deep stains now marking your skin.

You stood frozen in horror as your attacker staggered backward, collapsing onto the ground. The knife slipped from his hand, clattering away in the chaos. He let out a cry, desperately cradling his head with trembling hands. Meanwhile, the clown stood over him, a sinister smile playing on his lips, reveling in the scene before him. A chilling uncertainty gripped you—who was more terrifying? You took careful steps backward, your eyes fixated on the clown, who loomed menacingly over the fallen man, gripping a hammer with eerie satisfaction.

Without a moment's pause, the clown lifted the hammer and brought it crashing down onto your attacker's skull with a sickening crunch. Blood splattered across the sidewalk, forcing you to fight the urge to vomit at the gruesome sight. You turned your gaze away, unaware of the tears streaming down your cheeks, mingling with the blood droplets. All around you echoed the horrifying sound of bone shattering; the victim's screams had long since subsided. In that chilling moment, a fleeting thought crossed your mind: Would you be considered a suspect in his murder?

A sudden tap on your shoulder made you jump, and you turned to confront the clown, whose makeup now bore red splashes against the stark white. Every instinct screamed for you to flee, to escape as far as you could, yet you remained frozen, your eyes wide in terror.

Your mind lagged far behind, preoccupied with the recent events, barely noticing the clown taking your hand and placing something soft in your palm. As you glanced down, you found a small rag. The clown then gestured to his own face, making a wiping motion.

"Oh… t-thanks." You murmured softly, swiping the cloth across your cheeks to remove the blood splatters. For reasons unknown, you glanced at the clown, raising your brows in silent question, as if seeking confirmation that you had cleaned yourself thoroughly.

He placed his finger on his chin, tilting his head thoughtfully from side to side before finally taking the cloth from your hands. You held your breath as he began to reach for your face. His touch was feather-light as he delicately wiped away the spots you had overlooked. That mischievous grin returned, and he nodded in satisfaction at his handiwork.

You stood in both shock and confusion before finally breaking the silence.

"Um… thanks? For helping me."

The clown waved his hand dismissively in front of him while shaking his head, 'no problem'. You couldn't help but notice how incredibly expressive he was with his body language. While everyone around you would likely have told you to be terrified of him—or even suggested you call the cops after witnessing him murder a man without a shred of remorse—you found yourself feeling a strange sense of gratitude for what he had done, plus the man was intending to rob you and, in your mind, somehow had it coming. In a moment of surprising courage, this gratitude outweighed your fear, leading you to invite the clown to the nearby 24-hour pizza place for a meal, a decision that felt both reckless and oddly thrilling.

[vampworks]

At Last

Pairing(s): Caleb xreader (platonic) Sylus x reader x Zayne( love triangle)

Caleb chooses the worst way to announce his homecoming or in other words, that one scene in Deadpool and Wolverine. "He has risen, baby girl." "Fuck!".

w/c: 3k

a/n: hours of dying inside and here we are. I want to thank pinterest, my cat, and the monster I drank. This game has me in shambles and I will never recover.

warnings: angst, comfort, trauma, pet names, intimacy, profanity, mentions of death, mentions of medication.

To the family of Josephine and Caleb Yizhou, we regret to inform you that, per verification process conducted by Linkon City Government. Both Josephine and Caleb have been officially recorded as decreased due the accident on the date of xx-xx-xx. We kindly request you to-

You could barely stomach reading the rest of the text. It has been nearly 3 years since you lost it all. Only now had they finished their investigation. How long did they take to realize what you had years ago. That your family was gone. Caleb was gone. With a new gift of nausea, you felt the numbness crawling back up again. The dread you thought you had grown customed to.

On the way to city hall, you cancel tonight’s date with Zayne with a text of your own. You didn’t even think of your promise to let him in more. Something came up, will explain later. Far too short for casual. It didn’t have the usual warmth you had when you spoke to him. You knew he would suspect something.  Hell, not even a heart at end of it. He probably thinks the world was ending for you. Maybe He’d be right. You have the spent the last 3 years trying to cope. Trying to rebuild any semblance of happiness. All of what. All it took was one text. One mention of their names for it to come crashing down. Congrats, you were still the hopeless kid thrown onto you ass from the blast. Staring at the burning remains of everything you’ve known.

Two weeks of haunting the earth with each step you took later. Everyone could see you hurting, it had made you numb to anything but work. Old habits die hard as they say. You took far too many missions only to burn through with berserk-like brutality.  Captain Jenna would have congratulated your latest efforts if it wasn’t for the thousand-yard stare you had with the floor every time you spoke. “Go home, y/ln” You couldn’t even muster an argument, so you packed your bag and trudged back to your empty apartment.

Finally, at your door, the sick feeling you had feeling eased for a single moment. A pair of strong arms had engulfed you leaving no room for escape. The familiar scent of gunmetal and rich cologne filled your senses. “Sy-“ you managed to let out in a huff. “Hello to you too, Kitten.” Normally you’d return his hug but once again the strength never came. With a huff of his own, the giant of a man lowers himself to his knees. Dark red eyes bore into e/c, so he looked for any signs of life, but you stared right back with a cold expressionless glaze. Still lost in the haze of it all. “You don’t have to tell me what’s wrong, sweetie but please tell that you’re all right at leas.” He pleaded, his voice losing the honeyed sound for a much softer tone. “Please, y/n.”

After agonizing over trying to make any noise at all. Something rancid leaves your lips. “I’m fine, just leave alright. I can’t do this right now.”  You bite. The pleading eyes beneath you once again shift with a tired furrow in his brow. “You can’t do what? I came because you’ve been blowing off my calls. Zayne told me you skipped picking up your medication and the date that you planned with him.” You weakly pushed him away, reaching for the lock. His hand takes hold of your wrist. “Y/N”, more than a little stern. It was like talking to child, but it finally caught your attention. “What Sylus. I’m tired and I just want to sleep. I will get the damn pills in the morning and you’re both busy anyway. Just please let me go before I-’ The irritating chime of your phone cuts you off before you ruin the delicate facade of control. Another sigh and a painful glance up at him, you answer the call. “Hello” The hunter in you came out and sound just as cold as before. “Hello, am I speaking with Y/LN. Apologies of the late hour, but I called to deliver a message from Farspace Fleet command center, are you available at the moment?" The man asked, his chirper tone made you even more nauseous, but you agreed without a second thought. It was probably just courtesy since the investigation message you received. The man explained that fleet FSCV-001 would be returning to Sky haven soon and your presences was requested by a colonel by the name of Caleb Yizhou. The second shoe drops. Blood rushed to your head. The air ripped from your lungs.

Sylus caught you as your legs gave out from beneath you and brought you inside the apartment. It took every once of strength in your body to keep listening. “Ma’am, he also recorded a voice memo for you, I’ll play it for you now.  You shook away the tears that threatened to fall but it was too late. “Hey, pipsqueak. You’re not dreaming. Looks like you ‘ve been holding up well since I was gone. That’s precisely why I had to hurry back. Can’t give you a chance to forget about me. Don’t worry, I won’t disappear on you again- “You were now clinging to Sylus. Your nails are crawling against his back. The silky fabric bunching and wrinkling in your grasp but neither of you care. Gasping for breath as you hung on every word your lost friend spoke.

“Oh, one more thing. Don’t be afraid, I’m back now.” End of recording, Thank you for your time, Miss. You heard the bleep after he hung up. You were still fighting back the urge to scream. Sylus held you tighter, still on the floor barely past your doorframe. “Y/n, its ok. Let go.”  He coaxed. Perhaps that’s what you were waiting for because you finally sobbed. You broke down the way you’ve wanted to for years now. Never allowing yourself to truly to feel what you had so tightly tucked away. He held you there till you fell asleep from exhaustion, gently soothing you while running his left hand up and down your back. His right found its way into your hair, pressing your head further into the crook of his neck. “It’ll be alright, my love”. He cooed, carrying you off to bed. He had watched you through Mephisto’s eye the whole time like he always has.

It was torture for him to listen to your voicemail while you threw yourself at wanderer days in and day out. The jokey and joyful tone hurt like knives knowing you probably hadn’t spoken like that to anyone in weeks. “Hey, you’ve reached my phone. Now come and find me. Heh he. But seriously sorry I missed your call. Leave a message and I’ll get back to ya.” You seemed so happy before. Of course, he knew of Caleb’s whereabouts. He had been subtly preparing you for the blow with lines like ‘careful who you trust from now on’ and ‘sometimes the closest to us may do the most harm’, but it wasn’t nearly enough. Here you were hurting in a way he couldn’t solve. With a heavy sigh, he called Zayne (his so-called rival) for help and your comfort. Zayne knew Caleb personally, he would soothe both of your worries.

 “Fuck”, Zayne hissed in response to the news over the phone. He was headed home after a long shift but made a very sharp U-turn back towards your apartment. “I’ll be there in a moment don’t alert Xavier." Sylus’s eyes grew wide at the responsive but quickly recovered. After 15 minutes of almost speeding, Zayne arrives in your apartment with an anger never seen before. “Is she alright. How long before that bastard arrives.” Zayne scans over the apartment for you while glancing back at Sylus for his answers. Sylus falls back into the much too small sofa letting out the sound of a sore old man. “She’s not well but she’s sleeping in the back. From what I heard, there’s five days before the fleet lands. He asked her to meet him in Sky haven. He sounded genuine but it’s still suspicious. Why wait til now.” Zayne nodded, busying himself in your kitchen. Tea would do little to calm them, but it was something. Anything to keep him from going over there himself and picking up a fight he knew only would hurt you more. “What was he like, when you knew him. Perhaps he’s had a motive this whole time?”

“Obsessive.” The doctor snorted. “The poor girl was smothered with him, but she saw nothing but her protective best friend. Pushed me away any chance he could.” It was now Sylus’s turn to laugh. “So, playing house never-ending well, I take?” The dark-haired man sighed into his mug. “Y/n had proudly declared me as her husband since she was 9, but Caleb said I should stay in my place as the friendly neighbor or the dog. You might be right. Any evidence pointing to Ever in this.” “Nothing concrete yet, but I’ll have something clear soon. He says checking on Mephisto’s camera feed from Sky Haven.

“I want to see” You croaked, voice still hoarse from crying earlier. Both men are up and near you in an instant. You wobble toward them light-headed and on bare feet, before nearly falling again. Zayne wins the ‘race’ this time, scooping you and bringing you to the loveseat to sit in his lap. Sylus follows the two of you back and pulls the screen again for you to see. The crimson-tinted screen shows gleaming city streets filled with lights. In the distance, silver towers glow like Christmas up above. Misty fog covering it all making it look like a hazy dream. “Lovely, do you think you should wait til you’re feeling better before you see him again?” Zayne asked you, his voice losing the bite it had just a moment before. “No, I won’t feel better til I see…him. I want to know what happened.” You said, eyes with tears welling up again. “Why he left me alone” The last part of that sentence was muffled into Zayne’s turtleneck. “I’m proud of, y/n” Zayne whispers into your hair. “You’ve been so strong through it all but its ok if you need more time, that’s perfectly fine.” “He’s right, Kitten.”

“Thank you, both of you. I would love to go back to thinking  he was gone and moving on, but I really need to see him. Maybe punch him a few times for pay back but still.” You attempt to joke but a few good hits would definitely help your feelings if you’re being serious. The rest of the night was spent with Zayne and Sylus doing their best to distract you by any means necessary. A silent truce leads to them teasing each other and doting on your head and foot. Two movies, a pile-it-up competition, and half a Hershey pie later, the three of you were tucked into your far too-small bed. But for two giants and you, you were more than happy to be squished.

One day before Touch Down

“Ok but if they ask me to sing, I’m gonna ugly cry.” You said finally grocery shopping again. Sylus had come along. After last time, He seemed the domesticity of it. “I would love to hear you sing again, sweetie but you aren’t capable of “ugly crying”. He jested, tossing another steak cut into your cart. “I’ll have you know y rendition of ‘At Last’ in college choir could kill a man, I won't even start about ‘Sweet Love’. Tears and all, mister.” “Oh, I’m sure.” Maybe everything will be okay after all. Watching you prepare for a dinner date like nothing occurred at all was nice but the sight of you breaking down like that would always be burned into his brain. He vowed that he’d always be there for you through good times and bad while you scanned the aisle for sweets. He heard you mutter something about deserving a cheat day more than anyone right now. You were right.

Moments Before Touch Down

The cold wind blasts through the fog ridden streets all around you. The taxi had let you in front of the command center as you requested but it was the long dreadful walk to the carrier bay that was miserable. The cruel fabric of your own dress blues did against the freezing air. The hunter dress code at its finest, the dark blue pencil skirt, blouse, and jacket was awful, Tara had always questioned what you had against the usual dress code, seeing your custom uniform outfitted with leather and pants no less. But you was right in end. This sucks ass.

The air was far too thin for your heart’s liking and the eerie glow of tech through the fog lighting on your way did little to comfort your nerves. Soon enough, the clearance stall was in sight with a man waiting with your name on a sign. He wore the same dress as blues Caleb used to when he first enlisted. “Hello miss y/ln, correct?” You gave a curt nod before putting on a smile. You were trying your hardest not to go numb again. You promised yourself and the boys that you would be ok and present. “Great, the colonel did make a last minute request of you.” You sighed, mentally prepared for whatever he could’ve thrown you now. “The colonel spoke about your singing to the higher ups and you’ve been invited to officially welcome the fleet home with a song.” “Shit” you mumbled beneath a cough saving to save face. If the officer had heard he played no mind. You had definitely jinxed it in the store, Sylus’s bad luck had rubbed off on you once again. Plastering a big smile, you spoke, far more chipper it was painful. “It would be a great honor, thank you.” You say through gritted teeth. “Wonderful, follow me.”

You now found on the highest step leading to the stage, highest seat on the bay as the ship finally touched down. Every bone in you body shivers and shakes. The breathes you now halted as they all file out by rank. Each group called out by squad name led by their colonel. A drone of names and codes you couldn’t hear above the sound of your own racing heart. None of the breathing exercises practiced with Zayne could help now. Only pressing on and waiting for the man who haunted you for years would bring any type of solace.

Once they had all stood in formation, a general comes and gives a speech about unity, the future, and whatever else is on his messy que cards. “And now a song from the Hunters associations’ very own, Y/n Y/ln to welcome us all home. You shot up scanning over the crowd. Suddenly your college recital was nothing compared to this. ‘Just another obstacle before I get to see him.’ You thought. The music starts and so do you.

At last, my love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song

This was cruel. Sickening. He had to have known.

The skies above are blue

My heart is wrapped up in clover

The night I looked at you

A man pushes through the crowd towards the stage. His medals glimmering was he moves with fevor.

Oh, and then the spell was cast

And here we are in heaven

For you are mine

At last

Cheers and clapping filled the air and just as you said. Some of the officials are sobbing. You paid no mind as Bright purple eyes gleamed up at you. He stares at you in awe. As if you had put the clouds into skies that he had flown through for too long. He smiles the same grin he did back then. It was him. The colonel reaches out for you, eager to have you in arms once again. You jump without a second thought. God how you had missed him. How he had missed you. He needs you like air in his lungs. The tight embrace is bone-crushing on his part, but you could’ve asked for tighter. Anything was fine as long as he never let you go again. “Hello again, my little love” You smiled and giggled at the line. Cheeks are growing hot despite the cold chill around you. “Is it really you, Caleb?” You asked, hoping to stay in this blissful dream even if it wasn’t. “Of course, y/n. I’m back. Good luck getting rid of me now.” He laughs. The sound is heaven to your ears. Memories of a childhood together you had buried now come flooding back. “Ugh finally, as if I’d let you go. I might just kidnap you and take you home back with me.” You hiccup. And now it’s his turn to hang on to your words but he snorts and tightens his grasp. “You’ll never hear me complain about it.”  You shove a hand into your pocket to pull the silver chain. It shines between you two as you gently push him back earning a pout from him. The apple-accented dog chain would be united with its owner once again. “Tryna collar me, Princess?” He says already bending down for you. “Yup, then you’ll never run away again.”  You say, hooking the chain around his neck. “Lets get outta here, coffee?” Tears of his own threaten to fall as he speaks.

This was going far better than Caleb ever imagined it would. He’s sure you’ll knock him on his ass later and he sure as hell deserves it but for now, he’ll wrap you in his coat, scoop up and carry you off somewhere warm.

At last, both of you were finally had a home again.

[nottobehornyonthemain]

Decked out all in white, when for your whole life you lived clad in black, same as everyone else around you, but you’re still covered in bones. Death has not left you, you have not escaped being one of the dead children, their infant fingers nestled in your mother’s red hair, you have only been stripped of your morning garments. Wearing the bracelet you swore to give to whoever murdered your adept.

Your whole life you were nothing, and no one. Everyone told you as much. The only time you mattered was when that one girl looked at you, when you took up her time, you mattered. The bitter, spiteful old man who shackled you and threw away the keys told you as much. You knew she hated you, that made you proud because that made you important.

Only, you weren’t important, were you? She didn’t even think about you most of the time. She loved something else, something you thought she would have destroyed happily if it meant she could get back at you.

The person most important to you in the world asked a favor, and that favor was to go back to your home, the home both of you had shared, and protect that thing. You opened your eyes, the same color as its own, and it kissed you with the face of that most important person. You asked it if it loved her. It didn’t answer you. You were sent to kill it by the most important person in everyone else’s universe. In the end you didn’t kill it or protect it, you just had to watch it take your place.

You were given a name from your home when you were very young. It was a niner name. You didn’t much care for it, or so you thought, but when you died, your last thought was that you died proud of it. The girl who you died for erased it so deeply that she could not even hear it spoken aloud.

They stripped you of everything you were. Your clothes, your paint, your sword, your title, your home, your name. They couldn’t really change you, couldn’t take away the important things. They could only take away everything that was important to you. 

Kiriona Gaia you beautiful tragic thing. I love you so.