#tw: dark things implied
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This is unnecessarily dark.
Don't smoke monster dust you guys...
#undertale#flowey#i was figuring out how to draw the dreemurrs better and this came to mind and i had to doodle it#tw implied death#art tag#tw smoking mention#?#just trying to tag things like these correctly#also writing image ids can be fun#gotta do it more often#tw implied cannibalism#i... i have suggested a lot of dark things here
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The Burden of the "Good Princess".
#The king the queen and the lord all dreamed of the same thing#a child for the good princess an heir for the kingdom#but no one asked what the Good Princess wants for herself...#But really who cares?#Everyone around looks at her and thinks:#Oh Amélie how perfect your life must be!#Perfect doll perfect daughter perfect wife perfect mother#Perfection.#tw violence#tw dark content#CW Partial Nudity#tw body horror#tw horror#TW Implied abuse#tw sa#cw pregnancy#my art#felix graham de vanily#amelie graham de vanily#artists on tumblr#ml#miraculous ladybug and chat noir#miraculous fanart#miraculous ladybug fanart#Miraculous#mlb#ml fanart#ladybug and chat noir#miraculous peacock#I could talk for HOURS about everything I think about Amelie but there's not enough space in hashtags so for now I'll just post the art 👀💦
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“I. Am going. To kill that rat.” “What was that, Boss?” “I said, BACK TO YOUR POSTS NOW!” “Y-Y-Yes, sir, right away, sir!”
(ID: Kirby series fanart comic, four borderless panels featuring Dark Meta Knight, Mirror Axe Knight, and Mirror Mace Knight, in which the latter two comment on their leader’s interesting new battle scars, much to his restrained dismay. Transcript below the cut. END ID.)
Good thing his minions aren’t the brightest bulbs in the bunch - otherwise they’d’ve found out about all the friendly hugs he’s been getting in his off-time.
(… this isn’t too much, is it? Stars, I hope not. I tried to keep it vague enough that it doesn’t have to mean anything spicy. Maybe it was just a very competitive game of tag. Or maybe DMK couldn’t quite reach an itch between his wings and Daroach got a bit overenthusiastic trying to help. Basically anything that could ruin his “big scary cool toughguy” reputation. As long as DMK is too embarrassed to admit to it in front of his crew, they’re all viable options, haha.)
Started 12/25/23, finished 12/28/23, updated 01/04/24, updated for color correction 11/02/24. NOTE: This was originally posted on my deleted account on 01/04/24. | Kintsugi AU Masterpost
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Transcript:
Panel 1
*DMK walking forward towards our left, M!Axe and M!Mace passing by in the opposite direction, M!Axe waves cheerily to DMK, who glances at them over his shoulder*
M!Axe: Oh, Boss, there you are! Hey, how was the fight? Didja win?
DMK: Hm? What’re you talking about?
Panel 2
*reverse shot of DMK, still glancing over his shoulder, several pink scratch lines can be seen on his back and the base of his wings, each in sets of three*
M!Mace: Got some new scratches on your back, Boss. Nasty ones, too, by the look of it.
M!Axe: (laughing, impressed) Ha! Musta been one heck of a scrap to leave marks like that! I’d hate to see what happened to the other guy, haha!
Panel 3
*front shot of DMK, his eyes shrunk to dots in realization, as a thought bubble hovers over his head - a simple headshot of Daroach, grinning roguishly beneath the shadow of his hat, showing off his claws as they glint sharply*
Panel 4
*front shot of DMK, sweating and glaring fixedly off to the side, eyes still shrunk, a vivid blush inside his visor, while M!Axe and M!Mace stand where they were before behind him, heads tilted in innocent confusion*
DMK: (strained) … … … Yes. … … A fight. … That’s what happened.
#veins art#veins ships#veins fanart#kirby series#kirby#dark meta knight#mirror axe knight#mirror mace knight#(not tagging them as OCs since they're not really different from their counterparts here; plus there's no more tag room)#daroach#dark meta knight x daroach#darkroach#AU#kintsugi au#comic#(almost didn't post this one not gonna lie)#(I generally prefer more fluff-centric stuff)#(since even implied spice tends to make the ace brain leap into panic mode)#(plus I don't wanna y'know... accidentally set some kind of weird precedent regarding my art?)#(basically I'm overthinking things again)#(but these two have a *very specific* relationship in my headcanon)#(at least when compared to MetaDede or Marxolor for example)#(not to say there's no fluff btw them - it's just more... neutrally physical? than what the others have)#(“friends with benefits” fits best I think)#anyway - panel 3 DMK face is my favorite thing ever I've decided#suggestive tw#<- (just in case)#veinsfullofstars
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spn // amy winehouse - what is it about men
#china makes edits#yeah this one's a little dark lol#spn edit#winchesters and campbells#johndean#marysamuel#tw implied incest#tw intergenerational trauma#one day i will learn to make the text things the same size
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#dark coquette#coquette#dollette#coquette dollete#pink#pink aesthetic#quote#coquette quote#lana del ray aesthetic#lana del rey#chemtrails over the country club#melanie martinez#fire drill#aryia#she didn't like boys#Alex g#things to do#pretend#tw sh implied#aesthetic#fruit aesthetic
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what happens if dream accidentally swallows punz (your lastest post)
Tw hard vore n digestion and stuff btw
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Death, probably.
If Punz gets accidentally swallowed, I'd say dream would have maybeeeee one to two minutes to barf him up? Before Punz gets horrifically burned at the very least, or, at the very worst, digested.
I wanna say Dream's got a stomach like a bearded vulture (the bird that eats bones) so he's got some very, very acidic stomach acid.
+, there's be lots of panic on Punz's side, lots of, "I can't believe he did that" kinda stuff.
If Dream realized it was Punz, there would be lots of guilt and panic and all that as he saved or failed to save him.
If he doesn't realize it was Punz, he would eventually come out of the feral/rage state on his own and wonder what happened to Punz, and be very worried. He'd never know.
Of course, there's a certain third party that would never let any of this happen...
#mcyt g/t#mcyt gt#bat's rambles#mcyt vore#giant!dream#writing#g/t#bat's answers#tiny!punz#anon#hard vore#tw implied fatal#fatal#i love the dark tropes i just never really get into them#oh my is that a teaser i see?#couldnt be you're imagining things
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goodbye stranger.
They’d already made it to the end of the world. There was no point in waiting, not anymore — Will was almost certain that if he waited any longer, the words he wanted to say would be his dying ones, melting on his lips with warm blood and his last breath.
Will loved Mike.
And now he was going to kill him.
will's been taken by vecna. he's killed mike hundreds of times, and he has no idea which one is going to be real.
for @bylerween2023 day 4!
#🫧🪴#💛💙#🎃#byler#wayli writes#stranger things#mike wheeler#will byers#byler fic#ao3#tw major character death#tw graphic depictions of violence#dark byler au#tw blood#tw death#tw gun#tw knives#tw horror#tw injuries#tw implied death#tw murder#tw weapons#psychological horror#attacked by vecna#day 4#tw derealization#so many tags oh my god
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The Garden #43
#webcomic#artists on tumblr#sfw furry#webcomix#my art#comicstrip#furry webcomic#my comics#indie comics#the garden#tw csa implied#this is the second most graphic this comic has ever gotten. btw! this isnt a silly comic#i went into creating the garden knowing that it would be a bait and switch comic. from cute to Real.#i had a prev comic with a similar premise but with human children that proved to be too hard to keep updating#if kuki's whole... thing. wasnt making it clear enough#this comic is meant to be dark. cute and funny at times too but mostly very dark.#this is the final warning i'll give to anyone who reads this. it'll only stop beating around the bush from here on.
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This is only the beginning
Kayliegzh life was spiraling, in a free fall she wanted an escape who could've guessed who her savior would be.
“Kay!” A voice yelled to her as she stepped out for a breath of air, she turned and saw Sara. Kayleigzh blew out a breath from between her teeth in frustration, she wanted two seconds for herself and not for her ‘girlfriend’ to follow her like a puppy.
She put on a bright smile, she felt her face twitch at the effort. “Sara honey, I told you I'd be right back.”
Sara clinged to her arm and looked at her, Kayleigzh was a bit taller in her heels. “But, you left me all alone.” She pouted, “Besides Carlos is about to bring out the good stuff and I know you don't want to miss that.” Sara placed a kiss on her shoulder.
Kayleigzh sighed but smiled down at her girlfriend, “Of course I wouldn't.” She bit the inside of her cheek hard, reminding herself to act the part of a doting girlfriend and party fiend. Even though she could feel the lethargy claw at her limbs, she didn't choose this life per say she just wanted to be accepted. Sara was a by product of that, they liked Sara and Sara liked her which made it easier for her to join a group.
“Oh Kay,” She whispered, putting a hand to her cheek, “You look absolutely pale, are you feeling alright? We can go home.”
Kayleigzh cringed, she didn't like how Sara called her place home. It was too fast for Kayleigzh; she liked her space and Sara did her best to invade every bit of it as she could leaving no time for Kayleigzh to do anything else. She can't remember the last time she was able to go to a family dinner alone, Sara clung to her and threw an absolute fit if she was told no. Her family seemed to be disappointed in her when she showed up with Sara, Mariqa had no problem being cruel to Sara every chance she got and Annha was distinctly uninterested in everything that came from Sara's mouth and ignoring her at every turn, mom tried to be supportive but didn't like to linger around Sara and dad… dad just looked at Kayleigzh with disappointment every time she saw him. She knew he didn't like her life choices, where since she dropped out of college and fell into the wrong crowd, she could feel the shame curling in her chest at this point she was used to feeling it like an old friend had carved out a space to sit and stay.
“Kay!” Sara was pouting and looking at her, Kayleigzh couldn't even think in peace.
“Yes, dear?” She put her smile back on, and linked her arm with Sara's and waltzed back inside.
“The princess returns!” She heard a voice yell, she flicked her hair over her shoulder, it was getting too long for her taste but Sara had demanded she grow out her hair. She perched in her seat and an arm was thrown over her shoulder, she leaned into it. Sara put a hand on her thigh, fingers playing with her jeans frayed edges. Kayleigzh's preened under the attention of hands touching her, hands caressing her as little pills were pressed onto her tongue.
The world became delightfully bright and soothing, sensations were heightened. She felt weightless, she was floating above the clouds. She could feel someone near her only distantly and only vaguely, hair brushed her bare skin. Hands crawled under her clothes.
It was suddenly all too much as quickly the high had become blissful. It was quick to sour and taste acidic, she shoved the hands and people away. They didn't move so easily, hands shoved her down and smoothed through her hair. She grabbed at the hands, holding them away from her. She wanted to scream, it clawed at her throat till it felt raw, she shoved and pushed at the hands and muttered words.
Finally she was released, her legs felt like jelly but it didn't stop her from running. She hit the ground, asphalt tearing up her hands and knees. She could feel herself gasp, she scrambled up and into an alleyway. Tears welled up in her eyes, she hiccuped and a sob escaped her throat. The setting sun was blocked out by somebody stepping into the alleyway, she bowed her head willing to accept if she was going to get mugged. She could hear the person speaking, her brows pinched as she tried to focus on what they were saying.
The person was eye level with her, crouching down to look at her. The shadow made sure that she couldn't see the person clearly, it didn't help that she couldn't force her eyes to focus. They took up her whole vision, they were wide, their shoulders were so broad that she couldn't see beyond them.
A hand helped her up, she struggled. Pulling away from the hands, “No,” She whimpered “Please, you can have the money in my wallet.” She fumbled for her back pocket, where her wallet sat but another hand grasped her wrist. A deep rumble answered her, the roaring in her ears lost the words. The hand was large but the grip was loose, she could easily tug her hand away if she wanted.
The rumble continued and she stared up at the figure, she could see the sun through their hair. It looked like fire, she moved her hand up mesmerized wanting to know how he could calm with fire on his head. The man froze as her hand touched his hair, she carded her hand through. It wasn't fire, it was soft and wavy. “Soft, but it looks like fire. How can fire be soft?” She felt herself calm as she moved her hand gently through his hair, her hand dropped the side of his face feeling the scratch of a barely there beard. It stung as it brushed her hand, she hissed and pulled her hand away. “Am I dying?”
“Not yet,” His deep rumble answered, it was ominous but she didn't feel threatened. “Come on, this is no place for a lady.” His tone was hard but not unkind. A hand reached out for her before reconsidering and grabbing her wrist. She went willingly, swaying as she stood.
She swayed into his side, sighing at the touch. He kept her upright, “Warm.” She muttered as she turned away from the sun, it hurt her eyes.
She was seated in a car, maybe she was being kidnapped. Wouldn't be the first attempt, she was from a wealthy family and many people wanted some of that wealth. “My father won't give you money. He will find me though.” She pressed her head against the window, her eyes were heavy.
A gruff sound reached her ears, she realized it was a laugh. “Princess, I'm not kidnapping you. You aren't safe on the street, doubt your father could save you that quickly.” She looked at the man and saw a small smile on his face.
Her brows pinched, confusion flooded her system. “I wasn't on the street, I was inside. There were too many hands and they wouldn't let go,” She wrapped her hands around herself, “They wouldn't stop touching, but I was inside.” She could see him glance at her, “I felt so trapped, I don't know what they were doing. I know it wasn't good, I didn't want it.” She furrowed her brows, “I think, I'm not sure. Why wouldn't I want it? I like being wanted.” The words kept tumbling from her mouth, she couldn't stop them. “I'm tired of being touched when I don't want it, I want some personal space and I just don't have that anymore.”
She took a breath and rubbed her hands harshly on her jeans, it irritated her hands as it reopened the scabs trying to heal. “I want her to go away, she is always there. I can't even breathe without her breathing with me, she can't be alone for a minute. I want to be alone, no I want to be away from her.”
“Then why don't you leave?” He sounded puzzled.
“I tried, she kept showing up. Kept coming back, would be in my house and blowing up my phone. It's like I can't escape her.” She kept rubbing her hands on her jeans, it grounded her.
A hand grabbed hers, stopping the movement. She looked down, his large hand covered her own. His hand looked rough; she could see small slivers of scars covering his hands. She didn't feel the need to throw him off, “Stop that, you'll just cause more injury.”
“I can't focus, it's like a fog is clouding my mind.”
“That's the drugs. They do that.” His voice was laced with humor.
She giggled, “Possibly, or maybe I'm always like that, I'm blonde for a reason.” She ran her thumb over his hand, feeling the bumps of his scars. She enjoyed the feeling, it was so different then what she was used to. “You have many scars?” The question went out of her mouth without her permission, “Sorry, that was rude.” She quickly said after.
His hand didn't move, “It's fine, I do. You willingly went with a dangerous man, those survival instincts need some work.” His face was stormy as she looked at him, there was something under his words that she didn't know.
“You don't seem that dangerous, I've had many people threaten me.” She laughed, “They haven't been this gentle when mugging or trying to kidnap me.”
“Gentle.” He muttered to himself, his tone undecipherable. The car stopped and his hand moved, she quickly grasped at him before she could stop herself. She didn't want to lose his touch. “We have to get out of the car.” He gently untangled his hand from hers.
She grasped for the door handle, she managed to get the door open but forgot the seat belt and was almost jerked back in her seat. She tried to hit the button, but kept missing. An arm crossed her vision and freed her, she stumbled out of the car. Reaching out to steady herself, her hands met what felt almost like a brick wall, only to be nose to chest with the hulking figure before her. She looked up at the man, her hands pressed against his stomach.
She realized how small he made her look, her hands looked so small against him. She had to crane her head to look up at him, “Did you know you're a giant?” Once again her mouth was much faster than her brain, a furious blush quickly spread across her face and ears. She backed away from him, stumbling and catching herself on the car. “Oh god.” She covered her face, “I'm usually not this much of a bumbling fool. I swear.”
She heard a chuckle and peeked through her fingers and was surprised to see him laughing, she flushed more as he laughed at her. “I somehow doubt that, I imagine this is truly you princess.”
“I…” She stamped her foot, “That's not true! I'm quite smooth, thank you.” She crossed her arms as her lips twisted into a pout.
The amusement didn't leave his tone, “Clearly, my apologies you're very smooth. Let's get you inside.”
She continued to pout as he took her arm and led her up some stairs, the smell invaded her nose making it crinkle in disgust. It smelled of sweat and mold, she stepped closer to the mystery man not wanting to touch anything. They climbed more stairs, eventually it was enough to make her breath become labored. She wasn't out of shape by any means, but the stairs seemed never ending.
They finally stopped at a door and the man held it open for her, she made sure not to brush anything as she stepped into the hallway. He placed a hand on her back and guided her to what she could only assume was his place. He unlocked the door and let her in, it smelled much cleaner than the hallway which reeked lightly of weed, mildew and new paint. She stepped into the apartment, it was sparse. She couldn't see any furnishings beside a couch, a TV and a gaming set up. “It's uh nice.” She cringed at the way the word came out, it sounded bad.
“It's not what you're used to, so sorry some of us don't live in ivory towers.” This time he sounded stoic, but his tone was hard and maybe a touch bitter. She was familiar with that kind of tone, whenever she would visit her friends' places. She was known to be a touch snobby about her surroundings.
A blush bloomed again, “That came out wrong, it's perfectly fine.” She shifted her weight from foot to foot, suddenly uncomfortable.
He snorted and guided her to the couch, “Sit down.” It was an order and she followed on instinct, sitting perfectly straight before she watched him stare with a raised eyebrow. She made herself relax, leaning against the arm of the couch. It wasn't the most comfortable couch she sat on, but it seemed to be well used as she sank into the cushion.
The man disappeared from her view before coming back with a small case and a glass of water, she didn't realize how dry her mouth was until she saw the water. She reached out for it, it was handed to her quickly and she gulped it down greedily. It was gone far too quickly, she could feel some drip down her chin, it was nice and cooling against her heated skin.
She placed the glass on the side table, and wiped the water with the back of her hand. Looking up shyly at the large man, “I uh never caught your name.”
“I never gave it.” He said quickly, his tone almost meant to shut her down.
“I'm Kayleigzh, most people call me Kay easier I suppose.” She shrugged and smiled, looking at him expectedly.
He grunted in response and kneeled in front of her, she was quick to move backwards her hands gripped the edge of the couch. It made her hands sting, she wouldn't say no, didn't know how to, but she wasn't exactly in the mood as he moved closer. He froze and looked at her, he was still almost eye height with her even kneeled below her. She didn't even feel like she was breathing, her legs twitched as they tensed. She didn't know why he wasn't moving anymore, she stared into his eyes realizing they were a dark grey she'd never seen that kind of color before. He had a five o'clock shadow, and was attractive at least to her; to others he may have been a bit plain; but she always had a thing for men who looked physically stronger than her and was a redhead to boot.
Right now though, she realized how stupid she was. She followed a random man into his apartment in a drugged state, she knew where this always went. She came down a bit but was in no state to make a run for it, her eyes flicked to the door then quickly back to him. His face didn't move, it was like looking at a statue. The more still he was the more panic crawled through her, her hands flexed against the couch. Her breath came out in small pants, she tried to squash it but like a caged animal it wrangled from her grasp and ran free through her body, she looked at the glass next to her.
“I wouldn't do that.” His voice was low and almost soft but the warning evident, her gaze snapped back to his. “I don't know what you're thinking but I just want to clean out the rocks from your scrapes.” He gestured to the small case next to him, he slowly went to open it. She felt like a scared animal from the way he watched her, like she would flee as if any fast movement would spook her, which wasn't exactly wrong. He opened the case and she saw a small first aid kit, tension left her body a bit.
“I'm not here to hurt you Kay,” She felt a jolt at the sound of her name, “I'm hoping to…” For the first time he looked hesitant, “Let's get you cleaned up.” He swallowed quickly and grabbed a few things from the kit. He reached slowly for her leg, she looked and saw a bit more blood then she was expecting, it was a dried rust color ruining her jeans and the leg that didn't originally have a tear in it now did. She must've hit the ground pretty hard, she didn't even register the pain most of the time. Though she hissed as he started to clean the wound, his face was impassive and he was moving methodically like he was used to doing this.
She looked at his hands as they moved, gritting her teeth as they did her gaze traveled up his arms where she could see a few more sizable pieces of scarred flesh they varied in size as she looked. Her hands moved without her permission as she traced one of the closest scars, her fingertips barely touching as she felt the difference in skin texture. He tensed under her, before continuing seemingly to ignore her as he moved to her other knee, though his jaw seemed more set then before, she continued to touch his arm just watching her fingers move as she did.
The adrenaline leaving her body leaving her feeling a bit light headed, her hand came to rest on his biceps leaning forward slightly. She leaned into his space, “You truly aren't going to hurt me or anything else.” She ducked her head to look at his face, she was closer than she meant to be almost nose to nose with him. She could feel a rush of air escape from him at her sudden appearance in his vision. “Like I realize I made myself pretty easy prey to any unsavory folk, are you one of those?”
He chuckled, “You have no idea, but I'm not here to hurt you.” He stopped and seemed to think, “I just saw a woman who couldn't be trusted on her own and needed help.”
“A hero are you?” She giggled, “The most unusual knight in shining armor I've seen.” She looked him over, his black shirt, dark jeans down to his combat boots. “You almost instead look like a villain in a fantasy novel, the one that turns out to be the real love interest.” She laughed, before she caught what she actually said and for what felt like the millionth time she blushed.
His mouth lifted up in a smile, “I'm no knight.” He looked up at her, “Though I may be a villain in whatever smut you seem to read.” He looked back at her knee leaving her to gape at him, was he flirting with her? And with her own dumb thoughts that should stay in her head. “Probably should close your mouth princess.” He looked back up at her quickly with a hint of mischief.
She clicked her mouth shut, she was never in this position. She had plenty of people flirt with her but it was always cheesy lines and with so much farce just to get in her pants, or it was the awkward fumbling of people believing she was too far out of their league. She'd never had someone banter with her, and truly shut her up like this man has and she doesn't even know his name. She'd never had someone just touch her and not want anything from her, he seemed willing to accept when her body signals told him no and backed off if she wasn't comfortable. Who was this man? Why did he show up now? Thoughts flew across her head ending with Sara was going to be pissed if she learned about this. Though she supposed Sara didn't have to learn about this, she could hold this memory for her and only for herself.
“Jack.” She was snapped out of her spiraling thoughts, as his voice drifted over her.
“What?” She looked at him as he moved her hand to be in front of him.
“That's what you can call me. Jack.” He sounded like he didn't want to be telling her this, but seemed to continue.
“Jack.” She tested the name, almost whispering it to herself. “Well it's nice to know the name of my villain.” She smiled smugly at him since it was his turn to look a bit surprised by her, then the stormy look returned and he stared back at her hand.
He finished quickly in silence and she was fine to sit back and stare at him. He bandaged what he needed to and then stood up and put a bit of space between them. “You should get some sleep.”
“What can't even offer the damsel in distress your bed? Wanting to leave me to sleep on this uncomfortable couch?” She felt a slow smile spread across her face, she felt brave.
His gaze darkened and she felt satisfaction purr in her chest, he stopped and started a few times a war crossed his face. “You're in no state for what you're offering.”
“Why? I don't mind your hands touching me, in fact I'd like them to touch me more.” Her voice turned into that purr from her chest.
His jaw twitched, then he was in her space far quicker then she was expecting him to be far quicker then what seemed natural, causing her to jump a bit. His arms caged her to the couch, she placed her hands on his chest out of instinct at his sudden appearance. “You push my patience dear, but I'm not going to be another person to take advantage of you in this state.” She stared up at him, her mouth parted. She couldn't explain the emotion in her chest, “You don't owe me for taking you off the street, I won't lower myself like that.” His eyes burned a trail down her body, “Even if the offer is tempting.”
Her hands grasped at his shirt, “I…” Tears sprang to her eyes, “I didn't offer because I believed I owed you, I mean of course I owe you for picking me up from God knows what could've happened instead if you weren't there.”
She swallowed thickly, the emotions she felt were hot and heavy in her chest, having someone saying it so plainly hit her in the most vulnerable spots, places she thought they would be hidden from view and yet this random stranger picked them out like he just knew her greatest insecurities just by looking at her. Even her sisters avoid touching on the subject about how low she would drag herself just to be wanted and kept around, how she would give anything to the next person she believed she owed. “I was genuine, your hands aren't too much like everyone else's.” She brought her hand to his where it still caged her, grasping at his wrist “I've never…” She paused, maybe spilling herself to a random stranger she would never see again was a horrible idea, but the words tumbled from her, “I just want to be touched by hands that don't hurt and cause me to shrink away to nothing. You touched me without expectations, in fact I kept you touching me.” She looked up at him, tears slipped down her cheeks. She was sure to look like a mess the longer she sat here, “I want you to keep touching me, please.” The plea was almost reverent when it fell from her lips. “I want it to stop hurting.” She leaned forward, more into his space, their breath mingling together.
He jerked back from her, standing straight. “You are temptation incarnate.” He ground out, “Not while you're intoxicated, you're not thinking straight.” He seemed to be saying it more to himself than to her. Trying to convince himself, she could see she had an effect on him, his own cheeks a bit pink, eyes a bit darker and chest rising and falling a bit more rapidly.
“Please Jack.” She purred his name, reaching a hand out toward him. “You seem to want me, so why not let go and give in.”
“No.” He looked torn, “You can stay in my bedroom, you'll be safe until you wake up.”
She pouted at him, “Stay with me at least?” She said hopefully standing, walking towards him and putting a light hand on his tense arm. “I do hate sleeping alone, besides I'd have no idea where sleep clothes are.” She moved to wipe the drying tears from her eyes.
“Sleep clothes?” He seemed puzzled.
“You expect me to sleep in bloody jeans? You do have a washing machine don't you?” She looked distastefully at her jeans, “And you wouldn't like me to prance around with nothing but my underwear on, unless?” She smiled at him, looking up at him shyly.
He didn't look fooled by her act, it didn't stop the lust that she saw rise as he looked down at her. “I'll get you some clothes, you can get changed in the bathroom.” He stepped away from her and walked in the direction of his bedroom.
She should probably rethink her decisions up to this point, but she enjoyed somebody who didn't seem to have alternative motives to keeping her around. She didn't know where the bathroom was so she pulled her jeans off, wincing at the pull from where the blood left them stuck to her skin and her top quickly followed, leaving her in her lacy bra and throng thankfully matching today. A delicate red, that complimented her skin beautifully. She placed the on the couch, and as she faced away she heard the crunch of wood. Turning around she saw Jack holding the door frame and it seemed to creak under his grasp almost breaking, she stared at his show of strength.
“The bathroom was over there.” He choked out as he turned his head.
She shrugged innocently, “You didn't tell me that before and I couldn't stand wearing those clothes for much longer.” She waltzed closer to him, grabbing the clothes and heading in the direction he pointed.
When she felt hands wrap around her waist pulling flush against his body, she arched her back to look up at him. He was staring down at her with hunger so intense she almost flinched away from it. “You are incredibly frustrating.”
“Clearly not enough.” She pressed herself more firmly against him, enjoying the feeling of him against her. “Don't you want me to be in clothes?” She moved a hand down to cover his own, her hand was dwarfed by his. “You're currently preventing me from doing so.”
He released her almost as if he was burned and she whined at the loss, hearing him huff behind her. “Go get dressed.” He ordered a tone leaving no room for arguments.
“Yes, sir.” She said slyly, smiling at the way his breath caught. She walked into the bathroom, it was just as sparse as the rest of the apartment, seemingly just having necessary items.
She turned on the sink, splashing water on her face and trying to remove her makeup without her face washes. When she looked up, the mascara was instead running down her face framing her green eyes still bright from her crying earlier. She took a rag and gently tried to remove it more, before sighing and giving up dropping it in the laundry basket. She removed her bra, breathing deeply as she could without it on. She pulled on the shirt too big for her, it ended at her thighs. It fell off her shoulders and she moved it so only one shoulder was uncovered. It showed the top of her breast, she left the pants he gave her on the ground.
Walking out Jack was nowhere to be seen, she heard a lid close from a room to her left she glanced at the couch and saw that her clothes were gone, her wallet sat on the side table. Looking around she realized her phone was nowhere to be seen, she sighed deeply she probably lost it again as she had a tendency to do. “Jack?” She called sweetly, “Did I have a phone with me?”
“No.” She heard from the room where she heard the click. Well if he turned out to be unsavory, her options were very short now. Jack appeared from a doorway, he seemed calmer than the state she left him in before until his eyes landed on her again. Seeming to drink her in, he stared at her bare legs the way the shirt fell from her shoulder showing the lack of bra, her makeup messy from her cleaning. She saw his breath caught, he took an aborted step forward before catching himself and frowned at her. She smiled sweetly at him, “There were pants.” He stated gruffly.
“And they were far too big, I'd say this shirt is almost too big. Seems like it's just about to fall off.” She pulled at the collar to prove her point as it fell down a bit lower, his gaze followed her movement. “So, I left them in the bathroom.” She breezed past him, heading to where she assumed his bedroom was.
She was right, the door was open, a king sized bed sat in the middle in front of a window. She saw a large wardrobe and a dresser, she raised her eyebrows at the additions that seemed a bit too extravagant for how spartan the rest of the apartment was. “I'd keep your curiosity to yourself princess.” His voice was much closer then she was expecting, almost breathing on her ear probably bent forward over her, she swayed back into him like he called to her, her neck tilting to invite him, though her hair stayed on her neck which annoyed her, it's a reason she preferred for it to be shorter. But his words made her more curious, what was this strange man hiding, maybe it was his murder wardrobe. Or was it something else, from the way she piqued his interest at following orders and the way his breath caught at sir, she could make an educated guess.
She turned around making the move deliberate so he had time to straighten and didn't hit him in the nose. Then made her way to the bed, sitting down on the edge, it was a four postered bed if her guess was right that was very intentional. Which based on his furnishings, it seems he lives with intentions. She pulled herself backwards until her back pressed against the headboard, she moved the pillows until she could comfortably sit up. Then look expectedly at Jack, “Gonna stand there and stand all night? While you're welcome to, I'm sure you'd rather do something else.” She almost sounded like an animalistic growl from him. She smiled, “I, of course, meant sleep, I'm a damsel I'd never suggest anything lewd.”
“Sure, you'd never want me to touch you and pull you roughly against me having my way with you, since you're such a damsel and i'm a villain keeping her in my bed.” He sat on the edge of the bed, his back to her. She felt a flush run through her body at the thought, his words flowed against her skin like silk and her thighs tightened together. She could hear the heavy thump of boots hitting the floor, it echoed in the silence.
The bed creaked under his weight as he leaned back, she was still as he moved. He didn't remove his clothes, even his belt stayed on. “Getting shy on me now princess?” The humor was back in his voice.
“Me shy? I've never been shy in my life.” She stubbornly crossed her arms as he moved to lean back on the headboard mirroring her.
“Then this must be your first time.” His voice rumbled from his chest, she could feel it through the bed it was a soothing feeling as it vibrated through her bones
She turned her side, bending her arm under her head. She reached a hand out and touched his side running her hand up and down, gently dragging his shirt up slowly. “I assure you it is far from my first time.” Her fingers brushed bare skin and she felt him shiver under her touch, before catching her hand and bringing it up to brush his lips against the back of her hand. It was her turn to shiver at the gentleness of the gesture, it made her stomach twist.
He stared at her for a moment before reaching out an arm and pulling her flush to him a soft whoosh of air left her at the movement. She moved her hand to be resting on his chest, she could feel his heartbeat it was slower than she expected far slower then what seemed natural for how his body was reacting. She looked up at him with her brow furrowed in confusion, her own heart was almost racing. He seemed to ignore her look and pressed a kiss to her forehead, smoothing out her furrow.
“Wh-” She started but was cut off by a question she wished he didn't ask.
“Tell me would your girlfriend be happy with what you're doing right now?” She stiffened at his casual tone.
“She…” Kayleigzh took a deep breath, “I'd rather not think about her right now. I'd prefer to continue to enjoy my night with a man much more interesting than her.” She stared at his chest while she absent-mindedly moved her fingers against his chest.
“Don't like her much?”
“No, you have no idea the lengths I've gone already to break up with her. She never accepts it as far as I'm concerned we aren't together.” Her tone was hard and thick.
“Then why hang around her?” She could feel his hand flexing against her side, his grip wasn't tight enough to hurt but it was enough to make her twitch.
“Cause she throws a fit every time, and it gets worse every time. Either I accept it or she ruins my peace.” She grinned her teeth, feeling a familiar anger rise in her chest rage that threatened to claw her throat with no release.
He hummed in response, “And if she disappeared tomorrow?” His voice was dark and biting, though it didn't feel like it was direct towards her. “She puts you in dangerous situations.” He paused, “I assume.” He added as an afterthought.
She nodded against him, her mouth tightening into a flat line. “She does, I know I have a problem but what else am I to do. Sometimes I feel like I'm in too deep to crawl my way back out.”
“Well I don't think that's necessarily true, if you stopped playing the dumb blonde you could do what you set your mind to..” He shrugged, “But that's an opinion of someone you don't know, so take that as you will.”
She stared up at him, warmth flooded her system. Who was this guy? He said things so casually as if he peered into the deepest parts of her. He looked down at her as she was quiet for a while and she leaned forward and quickly brushed her lips against his. It was innocent, she didn't know how else to express herself. “How can you see me so clearly?” She breathed against his lips.
“It's not that hard to figure out Kay.” He moved his hand to her hair, gently running his fingers through her hair. The moment seemed to be captured in time, so gentle that she could hold it in her heart and hope to never forget it. “It's easy to see through to the real you, not the facade you play everyday.”
She ducked her head into his chest, feeling bare. She could feel the self deprecation thoughts begin to swirl in her head. Thoughts she'd rather keep to herself, especially with how much she's already laid bare before this stranger who she knew nothing about besides what she could glean from the very little he said and his house showed. She shoved the thoughts into the darkest part of her brain to unpack another time.
She wanted to move on from this uncomfortable conversation, Jack seemed to sense her tension and he didn't say anything further leaving her to her thoughts. She shook her head and ran her hand to gently touch his face as she looked up at him again only to see him staring at her, his expression unreadable. She ran her thumb across his cheekbone, “Thank you.” She muttered, the words almost foreign to her.
He huffed a laugh, “Thanking me now are you, still think I'm the villain?”
“I stand by my statements, you're still the villain that would kidnap the woman but turn out to be better than she expected.” She smiled at him, pressing herself tighter to him. Feeling lethargy crawl up her limbs, she felt around for a blanket pulling it around her and throwing the edge over Jack as well. “If you'd be more comfortable you could shed a few layers.” She made her point by putting her hand under his shirt feeling his abs tense at her touch.
“I think it'd be better for both of us if I don't.” She whined and pouted, “Don't take that as a rejection,” He tugged at her hair making her mouth part in expectation, “I told you before, you're not in the right state of mind for that.”
“I think I've come down enough. I feel pretty sober.” She said defiantly, her hand drifting closer to his belt. His hand grabbed hers and interlocked their fingers on his stomach.
“Pretty sober and actually sober are two very different things. You can try your luck next time.” She felt his head turn to rest on top of hers; the movements felt intimate more than actual sex.
“There won't be a next time will there?” She said it with finality, “I go back to my day to day and you disappear as if you never existed.”
He sighed, “With luck, we will never meet again. That would be best for you.”
“What if I don't want that? What if I want to see you again?” She said a bit angrily.
“Believe me, it's best if I truly disappear. This will be a blissful drug trip for you as if it never truly happened.” His other hand came to rest in the dip of her side, she wished to feel him on her bare skin but it was like trying to convince a brick wall to move.
“I don't want that.” She stubbornly moved her head to stare at him.
He shook his head, “Don't do that to yourself, move on and become better than you are now. Maybe consider leaving the stalker first.”
She leaned forward and kissed him again, he didn't protest as he kissed her back, but it didn't move past that as much as she wished it would but he controlled the pace when she tried to change it. She leaned away to take a full breath. His hand tightened around hers, she laid her head back on his chest, her eyes drifting close exhausted from the day.
She swore she woke up at one point hearing a voice whispering next to her she frowned and buried herself closer to the warmth, a hand wound into her hair seemingly absent minded. She heard what she thought was a phone call but she was probably dreaming. “Yes she's safe, a pain in the ass but safe.” There was a pause as if someone was answering, “Yea, she's sleeping it off right now. She was different from what was reported on her. I think she has the potential you see.” Another pause, “She should move forward on her own now, and then we'll have to move quickly, if she does.”
She drifted off again and some time later, her eyes opened to eyes that looked more animal than human, they glowed like two coals, they stared and held her gaze while muttering something she couldn't quite comprend the words or the meaning but it felt important. Like she could almost remember them but was meant to forget. She groaned and burrowed into the bed further, the smell of whiskey and aftershave lulling her back to sleep.
The morning sun burned into her eyes, she turned to bury her face into her pillows. Except the pillows were a bit rougher than her silk sheets, she sat up looking around. The room was barebones, only a dresser and wardrobe, she blinked as a headache was throbbing behind her eyes. She pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, hissing as she felt a sharp pain. She looked down and saw a few scabs and bandages covering her palms.
She stood up, cringing at the cold floor. She gently padded out, peeking her head out of the room. Looking for whoever was clearly her one night stand, she didn't see anyone and didn't feel like calling out to face them. She saw her clothes from yesterday folded on the night table and her wallet sitting neatly on top, she padded over slipping back into her clothes. They smelled clean, she lifted the shirt to her nose and smelled a light detergent that didn't overwhelm her senses.
“They washed my clothes? Weird.” She went to put the shirt on the couch and stopped, she didn't want to put it back down. She pulled it closer to her chest, it was just a very large plain black tee there didn't seem to be anything special about it but she couldn't put it down. She was being ridiculous but that didn't stop her from following her impulses, she sighed and folded the shirt and tucked it under her arm. Looking in her wallet, checking the bills and saw none of it was missing which surprised her.
She pulled out a few large bills, looking around for a piece of paper. It wasn't hard to find, she rolled the pen between her fingers. There was a feeling of debt for the person she couldn't remember the face of. She remembered he was an imposing figure who was nice to her. She wrote a short note, only partially lying as she could barely remember last night.
Last night was fun, take this as thanks for washing my clothes. Xoxo Kay
She placed a heart around her name, leaving no number. She placed the bills folded up under the note, and breezed out the door. She wrinkled her nose at the smell that permeated the hallway, she shivered and turned around swearing she felt eyes on her but saw no one. She shook her head and walked out of the building a bit winded from the long trek down.
When she got on the street, she didn't recognize this part of town and felt for her phone before groaning of course she lost it again this would make number five for the month. She swore and cursed herself before wrapping her arms around herself and heading down a street hoping to find a taxi or a store.
She ended up having to buy a new phone from a Walmart she stumbled across. Her feet were killing her from her wandering in heels, she picked up a pair of sneakers tearing off the tags and putting them on. She turned on the phone and downloaded her information, she looked at her contacts and sighed before calling home.
Jeff, the family butler, picked up the phone, “Winestein residence.”
“Hey Jeff, I uh need a ride back to my place. Could you send a car?” She rubbed the back of her neck, her fingers getting tangled in her hair. She hissed as she pulled her hair, cursing she needed a haircut but Sara would pitch an absolute fit if she cut it above her shoulders again.
“Of course, miss Kayleigzh. Where are you?” Jeff's voice was colored with concern, it was rare she called anymore. She rattled off the general area. “Are you alright miss Kayleigzh? Staying safe?”
She sighed and pressed her fingers against her nose, still feeling her pounding headache. “I'm fine Jeff. Never been better.” She lied through her teeth, a pang of guilt hit her chest. Jeff was a second father to her and she was always lying to him.
“Did miss Sara abandon you somewhere again?” The question was tentative as if he was unsure if he should be asking.
“No, I went for a walk and just ended up lost.” She sucked air through her teeth, she wanted to tell Jeff the truth that she couldn't remember last night after her high was ruined. She felt a sense of sadness about it, then she swore she felt a longing for a pair of hands she couldn't place or even remember. “I'm okay, just a bit lost is all.” She forced a cheery note into her voice.
“Alright if you say so, you know you're always welcomed back home if you need.” She'd rather eat glass then admit she needed help and run back to daddy again, she was supposed to be proving she could handle herself. She knew her father was disappointed in her and would still be if she ran back home with her tail between her legs, she wasn't made for the family business the same way Mariqa wasn't and she recalls how biting his words could be when speaking to her. But he still seemed to hold hope for her and she just continued to fail him at every turn, she was on the path to follow and she got accepted in a pretentious school for business and math.
She ruined that, she met Sara and fell hard into the wrong crowd, started skipping classes or came in hungover and her grades suffered because of it until she finally dropped out instead of letting them kick her out, that was three years ago and she never would live it down. “Thank you Jeff.” She hung up and waited for the car outside, she bought a pack of cigarettes and leaned against the wall as she smoked. She shivered again, and once again got the sense she was being followed. She looked around and saw nothing out of the ordinary, sighing she must be getting paranoid.
She eventually ended up back at her apartment and walked inside, excited to take off her shoes and relax in a bath. She walked inside, took off her shoes and put down her heels. She heard a clatter from further into her apartment, making her freeze and stare from where the sound came from. She set the shoes down and slowly padded to the room, her hand opening her phone to her dad's contact as he told her to always call him before the police.
She winced when she made a noise and went to peer around the corner, and sighed heavily when she saw Sara in her kitchen raiding her fridge. She closed her phone, purposefully making her footfalls heavier. She watched Sara jump and whirl around a large smile crossed her face when she saw Kayleigzh.
“Kay! I was worried.” She closed the gap between and went to wrap Kayleigzh in a hug.
Kayleigzh shoved past her, “Clearly.” She said dryly, “So worried, I can tell by how you were raiding my fridge as if you lived here.” Her tone was harsh, she just wanted to be alone. “You don't by the way. I don't know how you keep getting in all I know is I want you to leave.” She turned to stare Sara down and she saw her crying gently.
“But Kay you ran away and I tried calling and looking for you, but when I went outside you were gone. Your phone was on the ground, cracked.” She put the phone on the counter top and she was right. It must've fallen out when she fell, “I was worried so I came back to your place. I hoped you would show up.”
“Yea not like you couldn't report me missing, if you were so worried.” She hissed, “I was in fact missing, I think.” She paused and tilted her head. Was she missing, no she went willingly with the stranger, she looked at the shirt she was still holding, that she impulsively took and now is clinging to her side.
Sara watched her, her eyes narrow. Staring at the shirt, “You think?” Eyes still full of tears but she watched the frown appear on her face. “Were you with someone? Were you cheating on me?!” Her voice raised almost into a yell.
“Christ! Cheating on you?!” Kayleigzh voice raised as well, it wasn't the first screaming match they'd gotten into. “We aren't even together! I broke up with you!”
“You were! You were out with someone! How could you?!” Tears flowed freely from Sara's face and it angered Kayleigzh to no end.
“Are you even fucking listening to me?! You know what get out, get the fuck out of my house and don't come back!” She stalked closer, “If you don't leave I swear I'll call-”
“What you'll call dear daddy? You can't handle anything on your own, it's so pathetic.” Kayleigzh flinched away from her, “It's why you need me. I make you better, don't you feel better when you are with me? I'm all you need Kay.” Sara moved closer, she was nose to nose with Kayleigzh and she went to wrap her arms around her. “Everything is okay when I'm around.”
Kayleigzh looked down at the shirt, she felt something trying to come to the forefront of her brain, words spoken softly to her, she felt comfort from them. She had no idea who said them to her or what they sounded like. Kayleigzh took a step away, “No, I'm done. I can't do this anymore, the way you cling to me. It's like I can't breathe and I feel smothered.” Kayleigzh felt a panic rise in her throat threatening to choke her and cause her to crumble. She swallowed and kept her eyes locked on Sara's shocked hazel eyes. “Get. Out.” She hissed and pointed towards the door.
“But-” Sara looked lost, this was the first time Kayleigzh has shown her theoretical fangs. She typically backed down and crumbled under pressure. She remembered spilling all of herself to a stranger and they didn't laugh but instead steadied her, seeming to really want her to better herself.
“Get out of my apartment. I mean it Sara, I don't want to see you again.” She went and threw Sara's shoes toward her. “Leave.” She held the door open and watched Sara duck her head and walk past, before looking at her with wide eyes.
“Why?”
“I don't want you. I don't want you anywhere near me, I can't stand you.” She glared at the other woman and slammed the door in her face, locking it behind before pressing her back against the nearest wall. “Fuck, I can't believe I did that.” Kayleigzh laughed, pressing a hand to her hair, tugging at it. She walked through her apartment, putting the shirt in a box that she kept all of her important memories. She didn’t know why, but it felt right.
Her next weeks were filled with a new wardrobe, getting her haircut back into her preferred bob and went to visit her family. She felt the addiction like a burn in her skin and she had spent many nights curled on her floor doing everything not to call her contacts for one more high. She needed to be better, and one of those ways was trying to get clean. She refused to go to a rehab, not willing to be the next rich girl to grace the front cover of a gossip magazine. Her face was already enough there as it was, her family was one of the most influential in Chicago and when she uttered her unusual name people's ears pricked for gossip.
The secretive family, the family that adopted their children instead of having their own. Everyone clamored to peer into their lives, and she was one of the most available for them to see and report on.
She didn't want that anymore, empty words and killer hangovers the next day. She looked at her phone and saw it was almost Friday, maybe she should go to her family, her only solace in the world.
She went to family dinner, blissfully alone though she still couldn't shake the feeling she was being followed during the next couple of days but every time she looks there's no one there. She walked into her family home, opulence greeting her and Jeff at the door.
“Miss Kayleigzh!” Jeff had a wide smile, she hugged him tightly melting a bit when he hugged her back.
She pecked his cheek in greeting, feeling safe for the first time in awhile. “Jeff, you look well.” She smiled back at him, stepping away.
“Is Miss Sara behind?” He said her name with disdain and peered over her shoulder.
She shook her head, “With luck that's the last we see of her.” She felt guilt rise in her chest when she saw the relief flood his face and the smile become genuine again.
“Well everyone is waiting in the dining hall, it's been a while since you attended.” There was that awful feeling of guilt again, “They're all delighted to see you.” He led her to the doors, her heels clicked against the polished tile. She brushed her pencil skirt as she approached, feeling self conscious.
Jeff held open the door and she heard the conversation halt as she entered. As she stepped into view it was still deathly quiet as eyes stared at her and then behind. Kayleigzh fidgeted with the sleeve of her shirt looking at her family, her sisters sitting next to each other, her father at the head of the table and her mother at the other side. They looked like the picturesque wealthy family from the jewels that dangled from their ears and wrist to the way they dressed. She wasn't much different, her clothes designers and tailored to fit her. She took a deep breath and sighed loudly, “She's not here, she's gone for good this time.”
She saw the looks her sisters shared and felt shame that there was doubt in their gazes. “Well am I allowed to join?” She gestured to the table, the food looked untouched like they just got served.
“Of course my dear, please come sit next to me.” Her mom's warm face was a solace in this awkward moment, she slid into her seat and her mom reached out to touch her hand. “You look good, I see you cut your hair. It looks nice as always, dear.” Her mom's warm voice washed over and made her feel more at ease.
“Well spill dear sister, what happened? How did you get rid of that parasite.” Mariqa piped up, she was the closest in age to Kayleigzh only two years between them compared to Annha's five and seven. It made Mariqa more candid with her than the rest of the family, more brash to ask questions Kayleigzh tried to avoid.
“I had some help realizing she was not right for me.” She struggled to grasp the words that made her feel that way, the night she spent with haunted her but she also could only remember bits, words said and the feeling of touch and the smell of whiskey and aftershave but no specifics of the stranger. “I kicked her out again.” She felt her mother squeeze her hand, “Not for the first time, she always managed to sneak in.” She said more quietly, but strangely it seemed like everyone heard her clear as day.
This seemed to pique her father's interest, “She broke into your home?” His gaze was hard and pinned Kayleigzh to her seat, “Is there anything else she has done to you?” His tone dripped with anger and she shrunk in her seat.
“She has been sending me messages no matter how many times I change my number, it's why I was unable to tell anyone I was coming.” Her hands shook, and her mom tightened her grip and stared at her father.
“Dear husband, maybe you should be kinder. We don't want to scare her away again.” Her tone was soft as silk but there was an edge underneath it.
Her father looked abashed for a moment, “Forgive me, it's not you I'm angry at Kayleigzh. It's that Sara, she has made herself a nuisance and threatens my daughter's security.” His fist clenched around his fork, it was the only thing her father seemed to truly care about. He held his family above everything else, when he could. He and mother had a nighttime routine that was very strict. They were only seen when the sun set which sometimes made it hard for his daughter's school years but he would drop everything if his family needed him.
A plate was placed in front of Kayleigzh by Annha, it was filled. Her sister's cold eyes stared at her, “Eat, you've gotten too skinny. Can't have you falling over.” Her oldest sister was cold but it didn't stop her from trying to care in her own way.
Kayleigzh took a few bites, before realizing the food was a bit cold. She looked around and saw none of the rest of her family had anything on their plates, their glasses were touched but that's it. She furrowed her brows, maybe they weren't hungry but they didn't make sense Mariqa had a voracious appetite and though Annha always picked at her food she still would eat all on her plate. Her mom and dad always preferred to eat in private, she looked around at her family as they started chatting among themselves while she ate, she could tell something was off but didn't know what it was. Was her sister's skin color off? They looked paler than normal, Annha's tanned skin seemed a bit shallow and Mariqa seemed less peachy then last she saw her. “Are you guys getting enough sun?” She asked before she could stop herself.
“What?” Mariqa whipped her head to Kayleigzh and then quickly looked to Annha and then her father, her eyes were wide.
“You both look paler than normal, like you haven't seen the sun in awhile. I know I've been gone a while but it hasn't been long enough that you've both become hermits.” Kayleigzh sat up straighter, all of her family's eyes were on and it didn't feel as familiar as she was used to, she swore she saw a glean in each of their eyes as the light caught them.
Mariqa laughed awkwardly, “I've been far too busy partying to even think about going outside, those hangovers really kill you and my eyes.” Her smile was a bit less than sure and she elbowed Annha.
“I've picked up more shifts at the company, they have me working so much overtime I barely remember to get out.” Her sister's flat tone cut in, “Don't worry, the doctor gave me a good bill of health and I'm sure he would do almost the same for Mariqa except for how much drinking does.”
There was a sardonic smile, but she traded glances with their father. Who was looking at Kayleigzh with an unreadable expression, she turned away from his not wanting to see what he found when he was done looking at her, but after a bout of silence she looked over and saw a ghost of a smile on her father's face and a look of pride that she didn't understand.
Dinner was a quiet fanfare for the rest of the time, quiet chatter from her family washed over her in a soothing lull, the previous awkward conversation forgotten for the moment. They made their way to the parlor, but Mariqa pulled their father away and upstairs, seemingly to his study. Kayleigzh narrowed her eyes, that was strange Mariqa didn't seek out father alone time anymore.
She sat with her mother and Annha, catching up with them leaving out any unsavory bits of her life. She talked about how she started reading again and went on runs in the morning, she didn't mention how she ran herself ragged every day trying to burn out the addiction that made her skin itch. She failed to mention that her smoking upticked in place of the drugs. Eventually she looked at the time and her father and Mariqa hadn't returned, “Excuse me for a moment, I have to use the restroom.” She said in the middle of a conversation, and she walked out of the parlor. She looked around and didn't see anyone before gently walking up the stairs, bending down to take off her heels. She was used to sneaking around the mansion, hoping to remember the spots that made noise. She tiptoed toward her father's study and she could hear a conversation going, she moved as close as she dared trying to listen in.
“Yea and what about me? You wouldn't consider me ready! She's already questioning, it's time to welcome her in before it's too late.”
There was her father's deep voice speaking back, she couldn't quite make out the words.
“What if someone else takes the chance away from us? You can't tell me people wouldn't love to get their claws in a Winestein, having her under their thumb would spell ruin for us.” Mariqa was never the quiet type and Kayleigzh was glad for her sister's loudmouth.
There was a pause again.
“What do you mean?! She is more than capable, before she was even out performing Annha! She would be wonderful, if you would just embrace her.” She said embrace with stress, Kayleigzh brow furrowed, there seemed to be an underlying meaning. “She just needs a hand that's all and so what if she spends the rest of it partying? You have all the time in the world to teach her.”
There was a powerful rumble as it seemed her father disagreed with her sister.
“You old stubborn fool, I love you dad but you couldn't be more blind. If you don't take her, someone else will.” She could hear heavy footsteps approach the door and Kayleigzh quickly ducked into a nearby room carefully to make as little noise as possible. “Damn him, fine he doesn't want to then I will.” She heard her sister mutter as she stormed past, the words were ominous and made Kayleigzh heartbeat speed up.
When did her family become so foreign to her, they seemed to change so much in the months she was gone. She waited until her sister was downstairs and she crept for her hiding place, going back down the stairs putting her heels back on and walking back into the parlor. Mariqa's mood seemed to have brightened, almost manic in movements. It worried Kayleigzh but she kept her mouth shut to avoid a fight starting between the two of them.
The night passed smoothly, though she didn't see her father even when she was getting ready to leave. She hugged each of them, pressing a kiss to her mother's cheek before she left.
She went back to her apartment and settled in for the next few days, trying to forget how weird dinner was. She buried herself in any activity, found her focus and she ignored the many messages that Sara was still leaving her. She wasn't deterrented by Kayleigzh's lack of response, she held full conversations by herself it rambled on and on getting crazier as the days passed. No matter how many times she blocked her number the texts would continue to flood in.
Until she got one from another unknown number, she was ready to delete but it looked different from the ramblings of Sara. ‘They come for you, be careful.’ It sent a shiver down her spine, she looked around and tried calling the number but it didn't connect like it was immediately disconnected after sending her the text. A knock came from her door and she jumped, she got up and grabbed the baseball bat she kept by her door. Paranoia ran through her body, she looked out her peep hole and saw two men she recognized they worked for her father. She breathed a sigh of relief and opened the door, “Hey, what can I do for you two?” She placed the bat down behind her door and brushed her hair out of her face.
“Miss Winestien your father has requested you to be moved. Immediately. He believes your safety to be at risk.” One of them spoke, she believed his name was David but she was never too sure.
“What? But I- what about my stuff?” She stammered.
“It will all be moved to your new residence, if you wish to grab a few things we can wait for ten minutes.” He tapped his watch and looked at her.
She took the cue and quickly went back inside grabbing a backpack and stuffing some essentials into it and her emergency bag, then went into her closet and grabbed her most important possession. The box fit snugly in her arms, when she went back the door was opened as one of the body guards peeked his head in.
She was shipped off to the upper side of Chicago behind a gated community, pulled in front of a house. It looked a bit modern and it was nicer than she expected, she should've expected that her father held back at no expense for his children, even fueling his kids' drug fueled binges. She stepped into the threshold and the two stopped at the doorway, she looked at them, “We will take our leave, we are never too far away miss Winestein.” They nodded and left her alone.
The house was far bigger than her studio apartment, so she put up her essentials and stuffed her energy bag under her bed just in case. The box went into the closet until she found a more suitable place for it.
The rest of her apartment was delivered that night. She didn't know who was hired and made quick work to bring her stuff to her new house. They didn't bring any furniture as there would be no place for it since it was already fully furnished.
She spent the next day unpacking and settling into what was to be her home for the foreseeable future. She got a text from Mariqa as she was folding up her laundry. ‘What are you doing tonight?’
‘Unpacking, dad moved me recently. Why?’
‘Great then I'm coming over for a housewarming party.’
‘Please don't bring other people, I can't handle a true party right now.’
‘Dear sister, who do you think I am? I would never besides we also need to celebrate that the wicked witch is out of your life.’ She sent a devil emoji as well.
She sent back an eye rolling emoji and told her the door was open. She went to the kitchen and looked in the fridge, it was barebones. She sighed and opened a delivery service ordering some Chinese place that was close to her.
Mariqs arrived a bit after the food, Kayleigzh was getting comfortable on the couch. She dressed down, no need to impress her sister, just a tanktop and sleep shorts. “Kay!” She said as a greeting when she opened the door, walking into the living room. “So tell me what really happened to you and that bitch.” She flopped down on her couch, lying down and throwing her legs across Kayleigzh lap.
“I told the truth, someone helped me realize that I may deserve better than a person who stalked my every movement.” She sighed and moved her food away from her sister's feet.
“Who?” Her sister peered at her, her eyes gleaming with excitement.
“I don't know,” She started hesitantly. “I think I was on a bender and whoever they were found me and took me home with them.”
“You just went willingly with a stranger. What if they had hurt you?” Mariqa's voice was a pitch higher with worry.
Kayleigzh quickly shook her head, “No they wouldn't, they were nice to me. I remember them taking care of me and talking with me. They were an imposing figure but I didn't feel threatened by their presence, I just can't remember what they look or sound like.” Her eyebrows pinched together as she tried to remember but it was like trying to hold a ghost, they just slipped through her fingers.
“Sounds like a guardian angel saved you, are you sure they were real? Not some drug hallucination?” Mariqa was watching her carefully.
“I would've if I didn't wake up in their bed and with one of their shirts on, wasn't a guardian angel I know that. They were more like a dark figure, a villian of a story that was forced into that role.” She stared at her wall, not really seeing it.
Mariqa's laugh broke her out of her thoughts, “You should become a writer Kay with that kind of plot. Could become a famous smut writer like the ones you enjoy reading.”
A blush crawled up her cheeks, “I grew out of that!” She denied.
“Oh no mister villain! Don't save me, please definitely don't lock me up in your room.” Mariqa continued to giggle, “Don't wrap me in your big strong arms, whatever would I do if you pinned me-” Kayleigzh put her food down and rushed her sister putting a hand on her mouth, her face flushed a scarlet red.
“Stop that, I didn't say any of that.” She stared at Mariqa making sure she was done, “Besides I feel like we didn't have sex, I probably tried but I feel like they had self control and didn't want to take advantage of me.”
“But you woke up in their bed and in their shirt.” Her sister stared dubiously at her, “You also fuck with anything that is willing to give you attention.” Kayleigzh slapped her sister's leg, it stung a bit and didn't seem to faze Mariqa.
“They… I don't know M.” She put her head in her hands, “It's like trying to see through a fog, no matter how much I try to cling to it. It's slipping from me, like it's important I forget them. The only reason I know for sure it was a hallucination is I kept their shirt.”
“You kept a memento from a one night stand you can't even remember? No way, are you getting sentimental in your old age?” Mariqa leaned back, “I wanna see it, cause I don't believe you.”
Kayleigzh huffed and pushed her legs off of her, getting up and stomping to her bedroom. Opening the closet and pulling out the box with the shirt, she pulled it out. It still smells lightly of what she remembered the stranger smelling like. She went back to her front room and threw it at her sister, “See I'm not crazy.”
Her sister stared at and held it up to her nose, taking a deep breath through her mouth reminding Kayleigzh of cat scenting. “Was this stranger a tall and muscular man?” Mariqa sat up and stared at Kayleigzh, her face set into an unusual serious expression.
“I don't know.” She said exasperated, “I couldn't tell you anything about them, except what I already told you and that their hands felt nice.” She added shyly.
“Kay I do not need to hear your fantasies about a random stranger swooping in to save you.” Mariqa stood up and walked closer, “I need you to tell me, have you ever met this man before?”
“No, I don't think so. M you're kind of freaking me out.” She reached her hand and put it on her sister's bare arm and was surprised at how cold she felt.
“We've run out of time then haven't we?” She stated to no one, “I'm sorry Kay this isn't how I wanted to do things, but we can't let you fall into their hands.”
“M, I don't know what is happening, what are you talking about? Am I in danger?” Fear welled up in her chest, her sister looked nothing like she remembered. “Who's hands?”
“Anybody else's, damn with the consequences.” She pushed Kayleigzh against the wall with seemingly ease. Kayleigzh grabbed her sister's wrist and tried to get her off of her.
“M please,” She pleaded with someone who looked like her sister but didn't resemble her at all. Tears welled up in her eyes, as she looked at her sister's blue eyes.
“Don't worry Kay, you'll be stronger and capable of taking care of yourself.” She smoothed Kayleigzh's hair, “This will only hurt for a moment and then nothing.”
“Are you going to kill me?” Her voice was higher and filled with fear.
“In a sense, I'll explain everything when you wake up.”
Then her sister lunged at her and a sharp pain was in her neck, she remembered screaming and then nothing until the hunger started. A hunger that seemed never ending and then warmth in her mouth, liquid ambrosia down her throat. Better than anything she's ever had before, she blinked and was aware.
She stood in a park and looked down, there was something in her hand. No it was someone, it was a person blood ran down their neck an impossible amount was staining the grass below them. She dropped the woman with a thud as they hit the ground and whirled around. She looked at her hands stained with blood. Her clothes were washed with it and she could taste something coppery in her mouth. She rubbed her arm across her face and looked down. She yelped at the blood that was there, she didn't feel hurt anywhere why was there so much blood?
She looked into the night and it was like she was in daylight, everything was in clear view. She could see a squirrel running up a tree as if she was near it, she could hear its soft chattering as it looked around. She scrambled away and went to run away from the park, a thud was next to her. She whirled and saw a man leaning against a tree, watching her. His mouth moved and she could hear him as if he was standing next to her.
“I wouldn't run that way if I were you.” He was studying his nails, wearing a long jacket and turned just enough away from her that she couldn't see his face, just his lanky form. “It's a shame, we could've done wonderful things together. Go the other way, your sister is waiting for you.” Then he was gone as if he was never there to begin with.
She didn't wait and ran towards where the stranger ushered her, finding Mariqa looking frazzled and calling her name. She felt a tug in her chest as she looked at her sister, needing to run to her. She slammed into Mariqa. “Mariqa I don't know what happened, someone is dead. We need-”
“To get you home, you'll probably throw up soon and we need to feed you again.” Mariqa held her and threw a robe around her and put the hood up. “Don't draw any attention to yourself.” She ordered and steered her towards a car.
They drove her home and a million questions ran through her head, but she kept quiet until they were in her house. She ran to the bathroom and gagged, throwing up whatever in her stomach. It was just red, blood she realized it smelled so strongly. She pressed herself against the opposite wall, banging her head against it. What was happening? She heard a crunch and looked behind her, seeing a dent in the wall from where she hit, but she didn't feel even a dull ache. She had blood all over her, seemingly covering every inch of her. She peeled out of her clothes hating the way they felt and stepped into the shower, a few minutes in she doubled over in pain from her stomach. She was hungry, it was unlike any hunger she has ever felt before.
She pushed it away, used to ignoring her own body. She realized she hadn't breathed the entire time and instead of her lungs screaming at her there was no pain. She took a deep breath and it felt unnatural and unnecessary to her, she quickly got out after the drain ran clear. She went and got new clothes on, a more appropriate attire, a simple pair of jeans and t-shirt.
Her sister was sitting on her couch, looking unbothered by what was happening as if this was all normal. The shirt she had thrown at her sister was on the table and she could smell it as if it was right under her nose.
“Explain. Now.” She was angry, a burning rage that threatened to consume her.
“Now, Kay, I need you to calm down and eat.” She gestured to the cups in front of her. “We have to figure out what is bearable for you before you get hungry. This is important, please hold on to your questions until the end.” Her sister looked serious and she went to the pouches. “Don't worry about what is, just use your nose, it won't fail you.”
She held each up to her nose until she got to the almost last one in what seemed like an endless line, she took a deep drink and it was ambrosia and soothed the painful hunger inside of her. She sniffed the other ones and found one more that smelled delightful and drank deep from that one as well. The other smelled unappealing like it was old food or worse.
Mariqa got up and looked at the glasses, “Redheads huh? Shouldn't be surprising since you always liked those.”
“How have you done this?”
“With our infinite amount of wealth and people to call. Now I need you to remember that food for you is redheads. Anything else will not satiate your hunger, it will taste disgusting and you'll throw it up.”
Kayleigzh felt better after drinking the liquid and felt more calm. “Can you please explain now?”
And Mariqa did, she explained how Kayleigzh was now undead and was immortal forever. She explained rules that made no sense, that the supernatural walked among them. She also said they would be in deep shit if the prince ever found out Mariqa embrace Kayleigzh.
It was almost fate as her door was knocked down and men swarmed them, grabbing Mariqa. Kayleigzh lashed out at the hands that clamped on to her, she managed to shake a few and threw one against the wall with a bang and she turned to Mariqa and came face to face with a gun barrel. “I suggest you calm down right now, unless you want to meet final death right now.” Kayleigzh slumped a bit, “Good now the prince is waiting and he's not in a good mood.”
They were shoved into a van, they didn't tie them up or anything but they sat an armed guard in the back with them. When they arrived at where the assumed prince was waiting, she was standing in front of a bank she stared but was shoved forward barely catching herself.
They were both marched to an elevator that took them far below the first floor of the bank. They walked a hall lined with guards, each of them armed and standing ready. She reached out and grabbed her sister's hand for a moment before letting go just as quickly.
She was then in an opulent room and sitting at a desk was a child. She looked around like this had to be some kind of joke. “Mariqa Winestein, you've been naughty. Embracing your sister without permission.” The kid got up from his desk and stalked toward him and Kayleigzh suddenly felt small and weak compared to the kid walking up to them. He stopped and studied Kayleigzh, “I've heard of you Kayleigzh, I thought you were to be embraced in a year or two but it seems your sister thought she knew best.” The way he spoke made him seem much older then the ten years old he seemed.
He moved past her and to Mariqa, “You know there are punishments for what you've done.”
“Yes sir.” She said demure
“Then what shall we do with you? Normally we would have you meet your final death, but you're lucky I'm in a good mood.” He clapped his hands together and a slow smile appeared. It was predatory.
It was the start of Kayleigzh Winestien's undeath, baptized in the blood of innocents and her sister as she was forced to hurt her until the prince was satisfied.
---
Heyyyyy so its been a minute, I had a rough couple of months that didn't let me have the energy to post. This is Kayliegzh beginning story, she was my first vtm character and I love her. She's a kindred with a 8 humanity which isn't hard to play at all lol
I will tag the normal people, hopefully yall dont mind and enjoy
@tippytappytyping @belladonna-lavender @froggyishere @ellie-anor @nikijakalope @pent-tent
#vampire the masquerade#vtm ocs#world of darkness#writing things#short ficlet#Kayliezgh the ventrue#Yes the Z is prouncouced#im back#drug usage#tw drugs#tw drug abuse#tw implied sa#tw blood#tw implied violence
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is it bad that I already planned my demise?
#tw vent#personal vent#dark thoughts#vent post#block don’t report#mentally fucked#tw mention of suic1de#tw implied sui ideation#tw sui ideation#Funny thing I’m not even scared#I just accepted it#I’m calm yet sorrowful
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59 56 79 everyone!
//lol
TW: IMPLIED BULLYING AND SA, AND (STATED) DEATH
(plain text: trigger warning: implied bullying and sexual assault, and (stated) death. end plain text)
and also probably mischaracterization of kitsune because of reasons in the tags.
59. how different are you from the little kid you used to be?
🎶: quite a bit!! i've seen a lot more stuff in the past two millenniums... but i still love to sing! ♪( ´▽`)
🎀: aha... ummm... i'm much cuter now! and... i'm... not the same happy kid i was before.
🤖: similarly, i'm happier about myself... in some aspects. however...
⭐️: ... very different... aha, d- don't worry about it though! i'm... a star! yeah! that's all that changed...
🦊: i'm pretty similar! but also not the same, aha! it hasn't been the same since...
56. when's a time when you felt real genuine fear?
🎶: it was looong ago, before i became who i am now. when i slipped into that lake and almost drowned... another time is when i saw... what was beyond reality. it's dark and lonely...
🎀: ... it was... when they... m- my middle school classmates, that is... they... th- ... i can't say it. i just can't. s- sorry, aha...
🤖: ... ah... i... i'm not sure i could answer this one, even if i wanted to... i- i was just trying to make friends...
⭐️: e- eh?! what k-kind of a question is that?! a- a true star ne- never feels fear!!! ... i... but i can't be a star. not anymore. after that..?! how... could i be one?
🦊: ... when i learned about about what she had. i was scared she'd die... and... i was right. obasan... i miss you...
79. what's something you wish you could change about yourself?
🎶: i mean, if i want to do that, i can just change at will! in fact... hehe, most of the time i'm not even in my original form, but instead a slightly modified version! guess what i changed! (⌒▽⌒)
🎀: uh... i wish i could change my body, like utahime can. unfortunately she can't give me that ability now. i can turn into animals, though! [briefly, they turn into a pink ragdoll cat. and after letting out a small meow, they turn back.] ehe, see? but... i also wish i could get rid of... the lingering feeling of their touch...
🤖: it's the same answer as kokoro, that being my body. although i can turn into animals, just like they can~! sometimes, we spend time meowing at each other as cats, fufu~ it's quite fun! although... getting rid of the feelings of their hands... does sound nice...
⭐️: SO many things!! my hair is too long!! but i'm a girl, so- I- I MEAN- NOT THAT GIRLS CAN'T HAVE SHORT HAIR, OF COURSE!!!!! it's just... aha... it's hard to explain!! and my chest is too big, too!! i hate it!! but again, i'm a girl! and just my body in general!! and... a.. aha... i... i want... to be innocent again i mean- what? i said nothing...!!!
🦊: there's only really one thing i want to change! but... it is kind of personal information. and besides, i've learned to live with it!
#the princess of song#the wandering heart#the machines and their creator#the dragon amongst the stars#the sly fox out hunting#prayers from the dark#tw implied sa#tw sa implied#tw death#tw implied bullying#tw bullying implied#// i separated each question this time for Angst™︎#// let each question and answer sink in you know#// guess my favorite three out of the five of them challenge (impossible)#// hint: expanding on the lore for your favorite characters in your au more than the others sure is a thing#// i use small text too much#// i also seem to talk in tags too much if you couldn't tell#// i also ALSO use strikethrough text too much#// the miku seeing beyond reality thing was born from another au and my au crossing over in the rp channel of a discord server i'm in#// and also it's clear who kitsune is now yeah#// my writing for her is probably off. i'm more of a niigo (and wandasho) person. and out of vivibasu it's toya who i focus on most#// everyone is trans btw i'm just saying#// but ryuhoshi is stupid (/aff) and doesn't know he's also trans. hence his insistence of being a girl despite complaining about his chest#// so many of these answers are so dark jesus#// and then there's miku.#// it's like.#// 🎀+🤖+⭐️: i haven't been the same since... what happened to me... 🦊: i miss her... why did she have to go? 🎶: i like singing it's very fun#// maybe i shouldn't put some of these topics in the au. but these topics also need to be discussed. but also i shouldn't do it in this way#// but also- *the guillotine comes down and chops my head off*
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Title: The Fawn Instinct.
Pairing: Yandere!BatFam x Reader (DC).
Word Count: 5.0k.
TW: Implied Non/Con, Implied Dub/Con, Kidnapping, Prolonged Captivity, Social Isolation, Stalking, Obsessive Behavior, and No Actual Incest, But Boy If Those Freaks Aren't Trying. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat.
[Part Two]
If it’d only been Bruce, you might’ve been able to live with it.
You didn’t love him, but you could imagine a world where you tried to. Most of it was circumstance; as upset as you were about the whole kidnapping thing, it wasn’t exactly a Herculean feat to endear yourself to the idea of being a handsome vigilante millionaire’s stay-at-home captive-spouse. You had no room in your heart for the stoic, reclusive, untouchable Bruce Wayne, but you could remember the adoration you’d once held for your masked hometown hero, the pride that’d once given you the force of will to all-but carry a half-conscious man in a torn cowl and a familiar suit into your apartment and lie to the cops when they came knocking. If the conditions had been different, if he’d spent a little more time as something more intimate than a stranger and a little less damning than a captor, then maybe, you could convince yourself to love him. Or, convince yourself to try, at least.
But, the conditions weren’t different, and you’d never quite had the time you would’ve needed to align Bruce Wayne with his more heroic alter ego. It’d been doomed from the start – Icarus jumping from his tower, already knowing his wings were destined to fall apart.
That aside, though, there was the more glaring issue: all his fucking kids.
Calling them kids might’ve been too generous, actually. Only Damian and Duke were younger than eighteen, and as far as you were concerned, they were your saving graces – Duke for meeting the bare minimum requirements for human decency and Damian for adamantly denying you were anything but an unwanted burden on his father. The rest were more-or-less adults, as little as you wanted to acknowledge the nonexistent age-gap between you and your gaggle of stepchildren. They were grown. They should’ve known better.
Tim, for example. He had to be… what? Nineteen? It wasn’t the pinnacle of maturity, sure, but he should’ve known you’d be able to hear your own sheets rustling through the bedroom door, should’ve assumed that you’d know he’d know Bruce would be out on patrol until sunrise. He should’ve known to wait until you were in another wing of the sprawling Wayne estate, somewhere far away from the master bedroom, or better yet, skipped rummaging through your things entirely. You knew better than to dream, though.
The door was still shut, but what was happening behind it and who was responsible were both foregone conclusions. It was Tim, because of course it was Tim, and he going through your meager possessions, because what else would he wait until Bruce was gone to do? Cringing, you rested your shoulder against the steady wood and knocked gingerly. “…Drake? Are you in there?”
Immediately, the rustling stopped. You went on. “I think Bruce is out, if you need him. Is there something you’re trying to find?”
It was a good out. An easy out. Thankfully, he was smart enough to take the bait. A few seconds later, the door cracked, a disheveled Tim emerging with a dark blush spread over his pale cheeks and his hands shoved conspicuously deep into the pockets of his hoodie. It was a struggle not to roll your eyes. He couldn’t have been more obvious if he’d come out with his dick still in his hand.
Your cheeks ached as you put on your dozenth unstrained, unworried, everything’s-fine-because-why-wouldn’t-it-be smile of the day and moved aside to let him out. “I’ll let him know you were looking for him when he gets home,” you assured, like you couldn’t see the way his bright eyes were fixed to the carpeting. “I’m sorry I can’t be more help. You all are just so heroic – it’s still a little hard to believe I’m a part of this at all.”
“You’re perfect,” he muttered, and you pretended not to hear him, cocking your head to the side. When he corrected himself, his voice was a bit louder, a bit clearer. “Don’t worry, I… I found what I was looking for. You don’t have to bother Bruce.”
“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. He’s so proud of you and your siblings, after all – it’s practically all he talks about.” A lie, but a fair one to tell. There was no reason Tim should have to know Bruce spent the majority of your time alone with his teeth buried somewhere in your neck, muttering paranoid fantasies about how many different ways you could be killed, mutilated, or otherwise indisposed by the members of his rouges gallery. “Honestly, sometimes, it’s hard not to feel like I’ve been here for years, rather than just a couple of months.”
You only realized your mistake when those bright eyes shot to you, suddenly wide and blown out with desperation. A hand darted towards you, and you stumbled out of the way, but not quickly enough to avoid Tim’s vice-grip on your forearm, to spare yourself the feeling of something cold and wet sinking into your sleeve. “You’re leaving?” The words seemed to slur together, spilling out too quickly to be restrained or refined. “You can’t leave. Bruce won’t be able to handle it, and Steph, she’ll—I mean, security-wise, we won’t be able to make sure you’re—”
Internally, you were keeping up a steady mantra of ‘Thisissogrossthisissogrossthisissogross.’
Externally, by some miracle, your smile never wavered, only growing sweeter as you cut him off with a chirping laugh. “I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, and then, after a slight lapse, “Would you mind letting go of me? It’s—uh, it’s kind of starting to hurt.”
As if on a switch, he let go of you entirely, pulling away as abruptly as he lashed out. There was a mumbled ‘I’m sorry’, and he made a swift retreat, disappearing around the next corner before you could so much as think about bringing up Bruce, again. You watched him go, only letting your expression fall once you were sure he was out of sight.
Without further caution, you slipped into your bedroom, glazing over the mess of pulled-out drawers, overturned clothes and scattered dirty laundry in favor of falling into bed, rolling onto your chest, and screaming into your pillow as loudly and for as long as your lungs would allow.
~
You tried your best never to be alone. It was a little draining, to be honest – having to keep a running chart in the back of your mind of who you could trust and who you couldn’t, constantly trying to guess whether it’d be safer to be alone with someone or if you were better off taking your chances on your own – but you’d learned your lesson the first time you’d fallen asleep in the Wayne’s at-home movie theater and woken up to Cassandra spread over you like a human weighted blanket, staring unblinkingly at your face and playing half-consciously with your hair. You tried not to leave yourself unguarded, after that.
Alfred was your first choice, Barbra your second, with Bruce as a distant third. Sometimes, you could get away with loitering near Damian (something you hated nearly as much as he did – you could only stand to be addressed as his father’s “jezebel lover” so many times), but Bruce was at one of Damian’s school events, leaving them both conveniently unavailable, and Alfred would be locked inside of his underground shooting range for another hour and a half, an activity you knew better than to interrupt. Meaning, you were on your own.
Meaning, you’d picked a very bad time to need something to drink.
The kitchen was deathly quiet, but you still made an effort to keep your head on a swivel as you made your way carefully to a corner cabinet, like stepping on the wrong tile would trigger a pit trap, or a flurry of arrows, or one of another million terrible things you hadn’t thought were possible before Bruce dedicated himself so entirely to proving you wrong. Mentally, you reviewed your haphazardly assembled schedule as you fumbled with the wood paneling and reached for a mug from the highest shelf. Tim was definitely out, touring local colleges on Bruce’s behest, Steph was supposed to be in class, and Dick—
Your fingertips made contact with cool ceramic half a second before another, larger palm wrapped around yours, a broad chest pressing into your back as your mug was stolen out of your hand. You didn’t have to look to know who it was.
And Dick was on bed rest with three broken ribs. Right. Of course.
You really shouldn’t have bothered leaving your room at all. Suddenly, dehydration didn’t sound like such a bad way to go.
“Let me get that, baby bird.” You cringed at the petname, but nodded, letting Dick confiscate your mug and with it, your ability to make a swift exit from a conversation you’d rather not have. “Green tea, right? I know it’s your favorite.”
“On the mark as always, Dick.” There was just enough enthusiasm in your voice to overshadow the despair. You waited until you heard the muted click of an electric kettle before turning around and settling against the counter. “I wish you wouldn’t dote on me, though. I already feel useless enough as it is.”
“Don’t sweat it, I’ve been going stir-crazy all week.” He flashed you a quick smile – toothy and beaming – before pulling open the silverware drawer and rummaging through it, like Alfred would keep his teabags with his cutlery. He was topless, wearing the same pair of black sweatpants he must’ve slept in. He didn’t plan to go out, clearly, and it wasn’t like you had much of an alternative. “This is just the basics, too. For a while there, I had your breakfast, lunch, and midnight snack preferences memorized.”
You forced yourself to smile, albeit, not as brightly as him. “…did you, now?”
“Mhm. B had us running in-person surveillance before he finally bit the bullet and brought you home, and—” He cut himself off with a sudden laugh, shaking his head. “And, I wasn’t supposed to tell you that part. Oops.”
Mercifully, the kettle whistled before you could start to consider the implications, and you reached behind you, fishing two bags out of a teacup-shaped jar. It was easy enough to edge him out of the way, but not having to worry about pretending he’d ever made himself a cup of tea meant he could devote more of his energy to talking, so you still managed to lose, in the end. “He’s stingier with the surveillance footage, now. I’ve never seen him so jealous.”
“He can definitely be a little overprotective.”
You tried to keep your tone even, polite, but Dick was like his siblings – quick to action and slow to take a hint. A hand curled around the counter next to you, and you dumped an extra spoonful of sugar into the darkening water. “It’s just us in the manor, right?”
Another spoonful, just to be safe. “I think Alfred is—”
“Out for the day. Wayne Enterprise emergency – I let him know as soon as he finished down in the range.” In your peripheral, you watched his other hand come to rest on your opposite side, caging you in. “I wouldn’t mind the company, if you were starting to get lonely.”
Another spoonful. It’d be too sweet to drink, but anything not to have to look at him. “I’m afraid wouldn’t be a lot of fun, Grayson. Honestly, I was just planning on getting a little sle—”
“That’s perfect,” he cut in, too eager to wait his turn. “I’m a great cuddler.”
You curled your hand around your mug, hoping the warmth would be enough to ground you. Instead, it only burnt your palm, and for a second, you could imagine a world where your teeth weren’t buried in the plush of your cheek, where you didn’t have to remind yourself that turning around and splashing boiling-hot water on an all-but superhero’s face wasn’t a good idea. For a second, you genuinely considered it.
And then, a sound not totally dissimilar to thunder filled the kitchen; loud enough to leave your ears ringing and your adrenaline spiked. You flinched into yourself, but it only took a moment for fear to shift to relief as you noticed the bullet lodged into the wood less than an inch from your head. Your expression lit up just as Dick’s fell.
Without waiting for him to let you go, you slipped away – sprinting across the kitchen and throwing yourself into Jason’s – brave, bold, beautiful Jason – chest. He caught you one hand and finished re-holstering his handgun with the other, laughing as you hugged him as tightly as you could manage. Dick huffed, playful offense failing to mask real agitation, and you felt Jason brace against you. “Jerk off and shut the fuck up, Oedipus.”
Dick’s smile turned uneasy. “It’s good to see you too, man.”
“I didn’t come here for you,” he snapped, as short-tempered with his siblings as you wished you could be. He looked down, holding you that much tighter. “How’s my best girl holding up?”
“I’m just fine, Jason. I do think we have to have a talk about how you treat your brother, though.” You glanced over your shoulder to Dick. “A little privacy? You really ought to be staying off your feet, too.”
Reluctantly, Dick slinked out of the kitchen, hesitant to go but eager to nurse his wounds. You only went on once you were sure he was gone.
“It’s been awful. I found another hidden camera in my bedroom, and I think Tim’s tapping my—”
“I’ll do a sweep.”
He let you go, but you caught his arm. “Please, I know it’s important, but—” You cut yourself off, swallowing. It was irrational – the way you let your guard down so quickly around Jason. The mask never slipped around anyone else, whether you were afraid of them or they were one of your rare, precious exceptions. Jason existed outside of the Wayne family, though, outside of Bruce’s corrupting influence. He wasn’t going to hurt you. More importantly, he wasn’t going to let anyone else hurt you, either.
“But I really don’t want to think about that, right now,” you finished. “Just… just for a little while, alright? I don’t want to constantly feel like I’m walking on eggshells, at least not while you’re here.”
Jason stood strong for all of three seconds. With the fourth, he sighed, buckled, and shook his head, his exasperation brimming with affection. “How long until Bruce gets home?”
“Six more hours. He’s not due to check-in for another three.”
“I’ve got my bike out front. How do you think he’d feel about a joy ride?”
And just like that, you lit up. “It’d give him a heart attack.”
Jason pulled you close, kissing the top of your head.
“Perfect.”
~
Unfortunately, Jason’s visits were few and far between. You had to find ways of fending for yourself, in the downtime.
“I miss the city.”
Bruce glanced over his shoulder, gaze flickering over you before returning to the buttons of his dress-shirt. You sunk that much deeper into the mess of sheets and pillows, taking some small amount of solace in the way the cool silk felt against your warm skin.
(Sex wasn’t something Bruce came to you for often, but when he did, you gave it to him willingly, albeit with no more enthusiasm than was absolutely necessary. You rarely enjoyed it and always regretted everything you did or said during the act, but it was better than the alternative. Part of you trusted him, trusted Batman, enough to believe that he’d take your refusal for what it was, that you wouldn’t have to say anything more than ‘no’. The remaining overwhelming majority was able to look around you, to remember the way he’d held you down as he forced a needle stocked with medical-grade sedatives into your throat, and recognize that your opinion probably didn’t mean very much to him. Still, you couldn’t let things get that bad. Even if you had to surrender every other facet of your being, you couldn’t let things get that bad.)
“You hated the city. You said your landlord was a tyrant and that even the criminals were living paycheck-to-paycheck.” And then, after a second of thought, “And that there were more rats in Gotham than people.”
“Well, he was, they are, and you know I love animals.” You pushed yourself up, keeping a sheet bunched against your chest as you slumped against the headboard. “I was tired and overworked – you could see that. But, things would be different if I was staying with, say, my wealthy trillionaire boyfriend in one of the penthouse apartments that I know he has because his youngest son got in trouble for bragging about them in school last week?”
Bringing up his kids was a dirty tactic – the fastest way to get Bruce’s undivided attention. This time, when his eyes shifted in your direction, they stayed there, and he made his way back to your side of the bed. He collapsed next to you and, with no resistance on your end, pulled you into his lap. He didn’t seem to care whether or not his immaculately tailored, freshly pressed suit was creased in the process, but you did your best not to squirm. “You want to leave the manor?”
The first half of a frown tugged at the corner of your lips. “That’s not what I—”
“Elevated pulse, avoidant eye-contact,” he muttered. “Something’s bothering you.”
It wasn’t a question. He wasn’t wrong, either, but still. You would’ve preferred to be asked.
“…it’s your family,” you admitted, feigning guilt. “They’re all—” Horny, depressed, creepy little orphans. “—great kids, but it’s just been so much so quickly, and I think it… I think it might’ve been too much too quickly. For them and for me.”
“They adore you, if that’s what you’re worried about. Dick was close to moving back in when I decided it was too dangerous to leave you to your own devices.”
You melted into his chest, sighing. Reflexively, he curled around you – a good thing, if a bit claustrophobic. Bruce liked feeling like a shield between you and harm, between you and the world he couldn’t control. Hopefully, eventually, he’d realize he had more to shield you from than greedy landlords and villains who always seemed to be just out of sight. “It’s not that easy. It’s just been such a rocky adjustment period, and…” You curled your hand around his wrist and squeezed, hoping the force would be enough to communicate what you couldn’t put a word to. “I’m really afraid something bad might happen, Bruce.”
For a moment, he seemed to consider it. There was a kiss to your shoulder, solemn and lingering, then another to your cheek, more fleeting. “I’ll talk to them. They’ll give you space, if they’re told to.”
If he told them to. You doubted you held much authority, here. “And the apartment in the city? On the highest floor, tall enough to see from Gotham to New York?”
Bruce smiled, and your heart soared.
Then, he started talking, and it crashed back down, dying upon impact. “Once I know it’s safe for you, sweetheart.”
There was another kiss, this one to the nape of your neck, then another, lower down on your spine. A calloused hand slipped underneath the sheet still hugged against your chest, and you allowed it to.
Honestly, it would’ve been kinder if he’d cut you into pieces and fed you to the wolves himself.
~
You made a run for it as soon as the arguing started.
Arguing, not yelling – the distinction was minor, but significant. Yelling would’ve meant an injury, or a mission gone wrong, or something else that signaled a sudden complication that couldn’t be smoothed over with sugar-sweet sentimentality or orders issues with an ice-cold strictness. Yelling would’ve meant Bruce didn’t mind letting you overhear, which usually meant you didn’t need to be involved. Arguing, all hushed whispers and hissed explanations and vague warnings, was different. Arguing meant, more often than not, that they were arguing about you.
It was Tim’s fault, as far as you could tell. Barbara had been the one to find the conspicuously encrypted file on one of Dick’s civilian devices, the one to mention it to Stephanie as a point of concern who went to Tim within the hour, but it was still his fault. He’d gotten Bruce involved, let his need for approval tip the tenuously balanced scales that kept his family whole and you safe. He’d talked them all into waiting until Dick was close enough to confront in-person, stopping by for his weekly equipment pick-up and check-in. He was the reason you’d gotten close enough to hear something about ‘pictures’ and ‘inappropriate use of reconnaissance material’ before fleeing to the mansion’s foyer – the only part of the house you could be sure wasn’t occupied. If you were lucky, you’d only be there for half an hour or so, enough time for them to compromise on some non-solution and return to your carefully maintained status quo. If you weren’t, you’d spend the early hours of the morning—
Something small but forceful hit the nearest window, shortly followed by another projectile, then another. The glass was too thick and the world outside too dark to make anything out, but you didn’t need to see anything to know who’d come to your rescue.
Jason.
You rushed to the door, then hesitated. Jason would only get a slap on the wrist for luring you out of the estate, and Bruce could never bring himself to be that strict with you, but now might’ve been a bad time. Tensions were already running high. Your little disappearing act wouldn’t—
A sudden rush of footsteps clattering through the ceiling from the floor above you, hushed voices raised just to the point of audibility. None of it was entirely coherent, but Dick’s came the closest. You managed to make out a half-choked “If you’d just let me—” before someone cut him off.
With your better judgement reduced to buzzing static, you pried open the closer of a pair of huge, mahogany doors and slipped out of the estate entirely.
Of course, Jason was waiting outside, a small stock of pebbles still in his left hand and, of course, you threw yourself at him, letting him catch and spin you twice before setting you back onto your feet with an airy laugh. A pitch-black sports car was waiting at the end of the driveway, the engine purring loudly enough to drown the rest of the world out. “Rough night?”
“You have no fucking idea,” you muttered, breathless. “I don’t care where we go, just get me out of here.”
There was a reason Jason was your favorite. There was no argument, no prying, just his arm around your waist as he herded you into the passenger seat. Fifteen minutes and a little over fifty miles later, the mansion was little more than a dull glow on the horizon, and you could pretend you’d stopped thinking about Bruce entirely.
There was no effort to make conversation, as bad as you felt about pulling Jason into your prolonged tryst with self-pity. Instead, you sunk into the leather of his seat and fixed your gaze on the passing landscape, clinging to any detail you were able to latch onto as it flew by. It was possible, between the subways and boarded-over windows and perpetually overcast skies, to go days without seeing the sun in Gotham. Still, your life had felt brighter there than it ever did in Bruce’s estate.
Jason turned down a road you didn’t recognize, and you managed to find your voice. “Are we going into the city?”
“Even better.” He flashed you a smile, the engine purring as he accelerated. “You’ll like it, I promise. Just sit tight.”
As if you had much of a choice.
Road gave way to forest, forest to empty plains, and empty plains to the dilapidated remains of what you could only label as a long-abandoned amusement park – like Disney World if there’d been some terrible, possibly nuclear accident followed by twenty or so years of absolute neglect. Jason’s car glided past the rusted remains of an iron gate, past the corpses of rides buckled under their own weight, and came to a stop in front of a paint-stripped merry-go-round almost entirely sheeted be vines and weeds and overgrowth. You let out a low whistle as he threw the gear shift into park and, for the first time in any vehicle you’d ever shared with him, pulled his keys out of the ignition. He’d always left the engine running while visiting the mansion, but then again, you’d always been pretty eager to make a hasty escape, too.
“I love it, Jason. I’ve always wanted to get tetanus from a broken down carnival.”
“A fair, actually,” he corrected, slipping his keys into his jacket pocket. Like he expected you to try and steal them while his back was turned, or something. “My parents used to take me here, before I met B. There weren’t a lot of Ferris wheels after that.”
There was a short lapse, the sound of lips moving against teeth. You made the mistake of humming, of glancing over to him, of leaving yourself open for another question, and Jason, as nice as he was, was more than happy to take advantage of you. “So, when did you and B start…”
He trailed off, drumming his fingers against the wheel. You filled in the rest with a breathy chuckle. “When did I start sleeping with your dad?”
He jabbed an elbow into your side. “First of all, you can admit you’re fucking him or call him my dad, but you’ve gotta pick one.” You opened your mouth, already ready to spit out some dumb joke about what Bruce would’ve preferred to be called, but Jason cut in, sniping your stupid joke out of the air. “Secondly, answer the question. I get enough of your diversions back at home.”
“Being a buzzkill must run in family,” you sighed, but gave in quickly enough. “It happened once before the whole kidnapping thing, when he was staying at my apartment and sleeping off a broken leg. I hadn’t even seen him without his mask on at that point, but I figured it was a sign – destiny, or something.” You did your best to smile, slumping against the door. “It was dumb. He gave me a couple weeks after bringing me to the estate, mostly because of the crying and stuff, but things started up again pretty quickly.”
“Do you… like it?”
“Do you like asking about your dad’s sex life?” He flinched back, and laughing, you went on. “I guess I don’t care. There’s not a lot else to do.” You swallowed. “Would it matter if I didn’t?”
For someone with so many questions, he didn’t leave a lot of time for yours, the hypocrite. Moving on swiftly, he asked, “And the others, have they…?”
“No.” And then, after a beat, “Not yet.”
He seemed to relax, at that. His back was still straight, his shoulders still squared, but his grip on the wheel loosened, his jaw unclenching ever so slightly. You tried the handle – locked. Obviously. As if you’d ever get that lucky.
His voice was soft, sweet. The kind of tone you’d use on a child, or an animal, or a doll. “This would probably be easier in the backseat, right?”
“Let me out.”
“So you can go where,baby? It’s just us out here.” He laughed, resting a hand on your thigh. You slammed your shoulder into the door. It didn’t budge. “Hey, hey, this doesn’t need to get rough. I’m not going to be like Dick. The others – they’ll do it wrong, treat you like a cut of meat they have to get to before anybody else. I just need to make sure you get out of this in one piece.”
Nails embedded in leather, body crammed as far from him as you could force it be. You weren’t hyperventilating, but only because you’d stopped breathing entirely. “Let me out, Jason.”
“I love the way you say my name. It’s pretty, and delicate – just like you.” He sighed, shook his head. “I know you don’t get it, but I’m just trying to take care of you, like you’ve been taking care of me for the past few—”
“Stop acting like I’m your mom.” A sob fractured the final syllable, another bubbling up from deep in your chest a moment later. Your body was beyond the point of rationality, but the soft, preservational part of your mind wasn’t so beyond the point of seeking refuge. There was a way out of this, as ghoulish as it seemed. You couldn’t stop it from happening, but you could make it better. You’d regret it in an hour, when it came time to explain yourself to Bruce, but what happened in an hour didn’t matter, not if you couldn’t survive the next few minutes.
You might’ve done it, too – or, you might’ve tried, at least. You wanted to. You planned to. And yet, when you opened your mouth, there was only one thing you could seem to say. “I don’t want to do this, Jason.”
His nails bit into your thigh, his smile easing at the corners. For a second, you almost thought he’d pull away. For a second, you almost thought he’d sigh, straighten back up, and admit this was all part of some cruel, unfunny joke that the two of you would remember fondly, later on.
Then, he laughed and leaned forward, lips brushing against the top of your head. You felt him speak before you heard his voice, but the cloying reverberation alone was enough to tell you that you would’ve been better off never saying anything at all.
“Welcome to the family, sweetheart.”
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere batman#yandere dc#dc x reader#batman x reader#batfam x reader#yandere batfam#yandere bruce wayne#yandere dick grayson#yandere tim drake#yandere jason todd
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ໃ𑄺. GOOEY C☆CK 𝒻𝓉.𝓋ℯ𝓃ℴ𝓂 𝒸𝒶𝓁ℯ𝒷.

✧ tws : nsfw/smut, fem!reader, multiple of rounds, tentacles, implied dubcon, creampie, spanking, nipple play, monster fūcking, petnames (pipsqueak, baby, etc.), caleb calls himself gege once, spanking, cōckwarming, doggy style and body worship.
✧ synopsis : You always knew something was off about Caleb his eyes bright in the dark, his touch too hot to be normal. After a mission goes wrong and you’re stuck alone with him, the truth comes out. He’s not just Caleb.Something inside him is possessive and starving. You try to escape, but his tentacles wrap around your waist, holding you tight as he finally shows you what he really is. “Don’t be scared,” he says. “He just wants what I want…”
The air inside the ruin was too still. Too quiet. You should’ve known something was wrong the second the scanner shorted out, static hissing into your earpiece before dying completely. You and Caleb were separated from the others, but he didn’t seem worried—just stared ahead, purple eyes glinting in the dark, too calm for comfort.
“Caleb…?” you whispered, clutching your comm. “This place gives me the creeps…”
He didn’t answer right away. Just tilted his head, lips twitching in a way that wasn’t entirely his.
“Aw, don’t tell me you’re scared,” he murmured, voice lower, deeper than usual. Then he looked back at you, eyes narrowing, and for a split second, something moved under his skin. Black tendrils rippled up his neck before disappearing.
Your heart jumped. “C-Caleb—what the hell was that?!”
“...Told you not to follow me this deep,” he muttered. “Should’ve known you’d stick to me like a needy little pipsqueak.”
Your cheeks burned. “You’re hiding something. I’m not stupid.”
“No,” he chuckled darkly, stepping toward you. “But you are reckless.” Another step. “And now that you’re here, well…” His voice dropped an octave. “We don’t see a reason to let you go.”
Something lashed out—fast. Slick, inky black. A tentacle coiled around your wrist before you could scream.
“Caleb!” you gasped, stumbling back. “Let me go—what the fuck is that?!”
But Caleb was changing. His pupils stretched into slits, claws forming where fingers had been. More tentacles slid free from his back, writhing like they had a mind of their own. And still—still—he looked at you like you were the most precious thing in the universe.
“Shh,” he said softly, reaching out. His clawed fingers tucked your hair behind your ear. “It’s still me, pipsqueak. Still your gege. But… I’m not alone anymore. And he’s just as obsessed with you as I am.”
A low, alien growl rippled from his chest—and then the other voice came.
“So soft… so tiny… we could break you…”
Your legs buckled.
Caleb caught you effortlessly. Smiling. Gentle. Possessive.
“Don’t worry,” he purred. “We won’t hurt you, baby. Not unless you beg us to.”
The tentacles didn’t pull hard. Just enough to guide you. To show you he could. Caleb’s breath warmed your ear as one slick appendage coiled around your waist, sliding beneath your jacket, tracing your bare skin with a teasing, wet touch.
“Such a pretty little pipsqueak,” he whispered, voice trembling between his own and the growl of something deeper—darker. “You don’t even know what you do to me…”
His clawed hands cupped your face gently. Reverently. The monster inside might’ve had a mouth, but Caleb had a heart, and both were laser-focused on you.
You should’ve been afraid.
Instead… you throbbed.
“C-Caleb,” you breathed, thighs clenching. “You’ve been hiding this from me?”
“Didn’t want to scare you,” he murmured, kissing your temple. “Didn’t think you could handle how badly I wanted to breed you.”
The words hit like a thunderclap. You whimpered, body trembling as another tentacle slid between your legs—pressing against your clothed heat, circling it slowly.
“So warm…” the parasite hissed. “Let us in.”
You didn’t even fight it.
Your clothes were shredded by claws and tendrils in seconds, left in tatters on the cold stone floor as Caleb laid you down gently, hungrily, like you were a gift he’d been starving for.
His mouth found your breasts first—hot and eager, tongue flicking across your nipples as his hand spanked your ass, hard enough to make you moan.
“Caleb!” you gasped, back arching. “F-fuck—!”
“That’s it,” he growled, licking a swollen bud before sucking it between his lips. “Say it again. Let me hear how needy my little pipsqueak is.”
“Caleb, please,” you whimpered. “Need you inside—need it so bad—”
You didn’t have to beg long. One thick tentacle curled around your ankle, spreading your legs wide as Caleb knelt between them. His cock—larger now, veined and flushed—throbbed, slick with dark fluid and twitching at the sight of your soaked cunt.
“You’re already dripping,” he rasped. “You want it raw, baby? Want me to stuff you full until it leaks out?”
“Y-Yes—yes, please—”
He didn’t just slide in—he invaded you. One long, slow thrust that left you breathless, stretched, filled to the brim as your eyes rolled back and your hips lifted to meet him.
“Fucking tight,” Caleb hissed, gripping your waist as his hips slammed into you, again and again. “This pussy was made for me.”
“Us,” the parasite snarled. “Breed her. Fill her. Use her.”
His thrusts grew savage—deep, precise, obsessed. Your slick echoed off the ruin’s walls, your cries sharp and sweet as your gege took you like an animal.
Spanking your ass with each slap of his hips.
Mouth on your nipples.
Tentacles everywhere—teasing, wrapping, stroking.
You came fast—shaking, screaming, clenching around his cock as he growled in your ear, praising you through clenched teeth.
“Good girl… fuck… such a perfect little pipsqueak. Let it milk me, baby, that’s it—”
He didn’t pull out. Didn’t even try.
Caleb came with a low roar, cock buried deep, thick cum flooding your womb as your legs trembled. One tentacle held you open, letting it drip out slowly, making you squirm as he leaned down to lick your lips.
“I’m not done,” he growled, eyes glowing. “I told you. We want more.”
Round two came before you could speak—Caleb flipping you onto your hands and knees, spanking you again, harder this time.
“You love doggy, don’t you?” he growled. “Letting gege fuck you like the little slut you are…”
You screamed when he pushed back in—so much deeper this way, stretching you wider, one hand fisted in your hair while the other worshipped your body, tracing your curves, massaging your sore, red ass.
“You look so fucking pretty like this,” he whispered. “Used. Open. Mine.”
“All ours.”
Tentacles wrapped around your tits, squeezing, twisting your nipples while Caleb pounded into you from behind—slamming his hips against your ass until you couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t do anything but cum again.
He didn’t stop.
Three times. Four. He kept going until your pussy was sloppy, filled with so much cum you could feel it dripping down your thighs. Until your legs gave out and you collapsed, shaking, drooling, dumb from pleasure.
And even then… he stayed inside.
Wrapped around you. Holding you. Kissing your shoulders while his cock stayed hard, still twitching.
“You’re gonna cockwarm gege now, pipsqueak,” he whispered sweetly. “Let me feel how warm you are while I take care of you. You were so good…”
You nodded weakly, face buried in your arms, body broken but blissed out.
“Y-your turn next time…” you slurred.
He chuckled darkly, hugging you tighter as another tentacle stroked your cheek lovingly.
“Oh, baby…”
“There is no next time. We’re just getting started.”
Your legs were shaking. Muscles limp. Your cunt still full and stuffed with your gege’s thick cock, twitching deep inside you like it had no intention of leaving.
But even as you whimpered, half-conscious from the last orgasm, Caleb’s hands never stopped moving.
They worshipped. Explored. One palm sliding down your belly, spreading the warmth of your overstretched womb, the other dragging along your thigh, where his cum had trickled down and painted your skin with messy, sticky lines.
“So full…” the parasite hissed approvingly. “Keep her like this. Breed her again. Let her feel us always.”
“Mm, you hear that, pipsqueak?” Caleb murmured, mouth brushing your ear as his hips rolled slowly. “You’re gonna be so stuffed you won’t know where I end and he begins.”
You whimpered, twitching as he slid out just an inch—then slammed back in.
“N-Ngh!—Caleb!”
“Oh, you’re still sensitive, huh?” he cooed mockingly, voice thick with hunger. “That’s too bad. I wanna see you cry this time.”
His hips started moving again—slow and deep, pressing right into the swollen spot that made your vision spark. Tentacles snaked around your thighs to spread you wider, one wrapping lazily around your throat, not choking—just reminding you who owned you now.
“You’re taking it so well,” he growled. “So dumb and full of cock. Just how I like you.”
Your mouth was hanging open, drool on your chin, breasts bouncing as his cock pounded into your soaked hole again—again—again—and his tentacles twisted your nipples, tugging, pulling, flicking them until you were crying from the stimulation.
“C-can’t—Caleb, I can’t—!”
“Yes you can,” he snarled. “You’re my good little cocksleeve, remember? You said so yourself.”
“She belongs to us now.”
“Breed her again. Break her. Mark her inside.”
He spanked you hard—twice—three times, watching your ass jiggle from the force before grabbing both cheeks and spreading them to watch his cock disappear inside you, glistening with your slick and cum.
You came again. Didn’t even realize you had until your body locked up and your vision went white, cunt spasming around him so tight he moaned through his teeth.
“F-fuck—fuck, baby, gonna cum again—”
He slammed in deep—one final thrust—and flooded you all over again. You felt it hot and thick, spurting into your womb as your whole body trembled, clenching down, milking every drop.
But he didn’t pull out.
Didn’t even slow down.
“Caleb—please—too much—” you sobbed, legs kicking weakly as he kept thrusting, slow and heavy.
“Shh,” he whispered, kissing your back. “You said you wanted it all, didn’t you?”
His tentacles wrapped around your waist and pulled you back into a new position—straddling his lap now, his cock still inside, his arms wrapped around you from behind while his mouth suckled on your bruised, sensitive nipples.
“Now you’re gonna ride me,” he growled. “Be a good girl. Bounce on gege’s cock like it’s the only thing keeping your brain from melting.”
Your body obeyed before your brain could even catch up—hips rolling, ass bouncing, cunt squelching with every desperate grind down onto him. You didn’t even care if it hurt anymore. You just needed to feel full.
Needed him.
Needed them.
“Good girl… just like that…”
“You were made for us.”
You were cumming again. Didn’t even say anything—just sobbed and clung to his arms, drool slipping down your chin as your pussy clamped down again.
And then he stopped moving.
Just held you there. Cockwarming you like a living plug, stroking your hair while your body twitched helplessly in his lap.
“You’re gonna fall asleep with my cock inside you tonight,” Caleb whispered against your neck. “And when you wake up…”
He bit down lightly on your skin—then licked the mark.
“…we’re gonna do it all over again.”
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Tw. insecure/introvert reader, angst(?), dark content, noncon kissing, implied noncon/dubcon at the end, jealousy, tension, mutual pinning, misunderstanding, hidden feelings, slow burn(?), stalking, toxic, sabotage, possessiveness, red flag, manipulation, dependency, no actual smut
***
Imagine being the childhood friend of the popular playboy in school.
He wasn’t just a typical playboy—he was popular for a good amount of reasons. He was, of course, hot, tall, with a pretty face, but he also had that effortless charisma. Easy-going, charming, funny when he wanted to be, and somehow still managed to keep decent grades. A good reputation wrapped in the kind of smile that made girls melt.
The only problem? His ongoing roster of girls. You honestly couldn’t pinpoint when or how he turned into such a flirt, it sort of just... happened. Maybe when high school hit, and puberty did him more favors than most. Whatever the case, he became that guy. The one you’d usually only see in dramas.
But it’s not like you had any business with that part of him. At least, that’s what you told yourself.
You two had always been close. Childhood friends. Neighbors. Playmates since you were practically in diapers. Your parents knew each other well, your families comfortable enough to arrange sleepovers that turned into routine. You grew up in each other’s houses, like siblings. Always “the duo.”
But while he bloomed into the guy everyone wanted to be around, you... didn’t exactly shine the same way. You were a little plain. A bit on the bland side compared to others, especially compared to him. While he stood tall, you were shorter than average, often overlooked in group photos. You didn’t have much of a figure either, which made changing in the locker room a quiet kind of dread. Flat and forgettable. You’d never say it out loud, but you noticed the difference.
He lit up every room he walked into. You were just... there. Next to him. Always next to him. Just not quite enough.
But it was fine.
You never made a big deal about any of it. It’s not like you wanted the spotlight anyway. You were comfortable being in the background, comfortable not having all eyes on you. Sure, sometimes you got a few questionable looks when you were with Mr. Charming, but you learned not to care. Let them wonder. You were used to being the quiet one beside the star of the show.
Though, truth be told, you sometimes wondered too. Why did he always stick around? Even when the popular kids were constantly egging him on to ditch you and join them, he never really did. He’d flirt and play around, sure, but he always came back to you. As if none of the sparkle out there was worth trading for late-night game sessions and instant noodles in your room.
"Geez, why’re you in my bedroom...? I thought you were about to go to the concert with them," you asked one evening, raising a brow as he sprawled across your bed like it was his.
“Nuh-uh. Don’t wanna,” he replied, eyes already glued to the game controller in his hand. “Plus, I wanna spend time playing games with you.”
You rolled your eyes at the time, but deep down, your chest tightened just a little. Warm and confused all at once.
It was things like that, small, innocent moments that led to the never-ending question you kept hearing from people.
“Are you guys dating?”
You always shut it down quickly, automatically, almost on instinct now.
“No. Definitely not. I’m not his type, we’re just friends.”
Because that was the truth, right?
Right?
***
He heard you say it all the time.
“We’re just friends.”
You said it so naturally, like breathing. Like it was a fact. Like it didn’t chip away at something in him every time those words slipped from your lips.
But damn, you didn’t make it easy to believe.
Not when you smiled at him like that. Not when you laughed at his dumb jokes, even the ones no one else caught. Not when you looked at him like he was just him, not the guy with a line of girls and a reputation he didn’t even care for anymore.
He told himself he was just being a good friend. That walking you home—even when it meant doubling back—was normal. That flicking some guy’s forehead for looking at you too long was harmless. Just a joke. Even if something in his chest burned every time.
And maybe he leaned in too close sometimes. Maybe he hovered near your space a little more than necessary. But he didn’t do it on purpose. Not at first.
It’s just... you never pulled away.
You made it feel like he belonged there.
And then there were the little things.
The way you always insisted you weren’t picky, but he still remembered how you liked your noodles with less broth. The way he always brought an extra hoodie because yeah, you always forgot yours, and he didn’t want you getting cold. The way he chose the seat next to you, even if the room was empty. Always you. Always your side.
You never questioned it.
Except that one time.
"Why’re you always hanging out with me? I'm not exactly a party."
He remembered how you asked it with a smile, trying to play it off.
But it hit him harder than he expected. So he gave you the truth. Or at least… part of it.
"Yeah, but you’re my favorite kind of quiet."
You laughed, of course. Brushed it off like it was nothing.
But he saw the way you looked down after. The way your cheeks went warm. And he carried that moment with him, filed it away with all the other things he never said out loud.
And when people asked if you two were dating and you laughed and said “No, I’m definitely not his type”—he never corrected you.
He should’ve. God, he wanted to.
But instead, he just smiled. That same tight, hollow smile.
Because you were wrong.
You were so wrong.
You weren’t loud, or bold, or flashy like the girls who chased him, sure. But none of them ever made him feel the way you did.
And you never saw it.
You looked at yourself and only saw “plain.” But he looked at you and saw home.
And he stayed.
He always stayed.
That part? You never really understood.
But maybe… he was just too much of a coward to make you.
***
It happened one weekend night.
Your parents were out of town for a wedding (you didn't want to go along), leaving you with the house to yourself. You’d planned to spend the evening curled up with snacks and a cheesy drama, nothing unusual. The house was quiet, comfortably so.
Until a knock came at the front door. Loud. Repetitive.
You opened it, and there he was, him. Tall, flushed, and very, very drunk.
“Heeeyyy,” he drawled, grinning lopsidedly as he leaned against the doorframe. “Youuuuuu. I missed you.”
You blinked, completely stunned. “Wait—what the hell? Are you drunk? Where were you?”
He didn’t answer. Instead, he stumbled forward, and your reflexes kicked in just in time to stop him from falling face-first into your entryway.
“Oh my God,” you muttered, arms flailing as you tried to support him. “Jeez, you’re heavy, what did you drink?”
He giggled. Actually giggled.
“Dunno,” he mumbled, dropping most of his weight onto you like a sleepy sloth. “They gave me... stuff. Tasted like cough syrup. Missed your face though…”
You groaned, knees nearly buckling under him as you fumbled to drag his dead weight toward the living room. “You missed my face? Seriously?”
He made a noise that was suspiciously close to a whine. “Yeah… You didn’t come to the party. I waited. Got bored. Left.”
“You should’ve just stayed and sobered up instead of dragging your drunk ass here.”
But he didn’t respond. Instead, he slurred something completely incoherent and nuzzled into your shoulder.
You finally managed to guide him to the couch, huffing and trying to keep your balance. But as you bent to lower him onto the cushions, he suddenly shifted his weight and with zero warning, pulled you down with him.
“W-Wait—!”
You fell right on top of him with a muffled oof, and before you could scramble away, his arms lazily wrapped around you, holding you there like a living body pillow.
“Comfy,” he mumbled against your hair. “You smell nice.”
Your brain short-circuited. “Wha— I— Get off!”
But he didn’t budge. In fact, he snuggled closer, warmth radiating off him as he held you like it was the most natural thing in the world.
“Y’know,” he whispered, voice thick with sleep and alcohol, “I don’t like it when you say you’re not my type.”
You froze.
“I hate it,” he added, softer now. “So dumb. You don’t even see how much I like being around you…”
Then silence. Deep, slow breaths. He was already half-asleep, completely unaware of the way your heart was trying to beat out of your chest.
You didn’t know what to say.
So you said nothing.
And stayed there, quietly listening to the sound of his breathing, with your face burning and your thoughts racing, wondering if he’d remember any of it in the morning.
Your heart was pounding like it wanted to escape your chest.
You could feel the heat of his breath against your collarbone, his arms still wrapped around you in a lazy hold. Everything about the moment was too much—the closeness, the weight of his words, the way he mumbled "I don’t like it when you say you’re not my type.”
It should’ve meant something. Should’ve stirred something deeper. And for a moment, it did.
But then, reality hit.
This was him—the same guy who’d flirted with three girls just last week, the same guy whose phone buzzed with messages from different names at ungodly hours. The guy who could have anyone he wanted with just a glance and a half-hearted smile.
Your brows furrowed, the haze of warmth in your chest beginning to cool.
Of course he was saying stuff like that. He was drunk. Sloppy. Blurry-eyed. Probably mistaking you for someone else, or worse, just saying the first sweet thing that came to mind because it was easy. Because that's what he does.
The warmth in your cheeks faded. Your eyes narrowed slightly as you stared.
You sighed.
“Stupid drunk,” you muttered, voice flat and unimpressed.
He didn’t react, already halfway to sleep, breathing soft and slow like a knocked-out puppy.
You stayed like that for a moment longer, caught between the ghost of his words and the bitter edge of your thoughts. Part of you wanted to believe what he said. But the other part? The part that had watched girl after girl fall for him and get tossed aside like it was nothing?
That part just wanted to roll its eyes.
Still, you didn’t move.
Because even if you didn’t believe him…
His arms around you still felt kind of nice.
***
You two acted normal after the morning of that. He probably didn't remember what he said, which was a good thing for you. Moved on, like nothing happened.
It's been a few days after that and you were talking about someone new—a guy from your class, apparently. You had that little spark in your voice, the one he usually only heard when you were talking about food or finding a cute dog online.
He didn’t like it. Not one bit.
“So yeah,” you said casually, biting into a snack as you scrolled on your phone, “he offered to walk me home the other day. I didn’t let him, obviously. But he was really nice about it. Kinda surprising.”
He sat beside you on your bed, leaning back on one hand, pretending not to care. “Oh? He did?”
“Yeah. I think he’s cool,” you said, voice light, unaware of how that single word stabbed into him harder than he wanted to admit.
He tilted his head, a smile pulling at his lips, one of those closed-eyed smiles he wore when he was being “harmless.”
“You do?”
You nodded, totally unfazed. “Mhm. He’s funny, smart. Kinda cute.”
There it was.
The trigger.
He sat up a little straighter, the smile never quite reaching his eyes now. “Funny, smart, cute?” he repeated, still with that casual tone. “Wow. Sounds like a real catch.”
You blinked at him. “Yeah, I guess. He’s easy to talk to.”
He snorted. “Right, right. Tall guy? Bit of a clean-cut look?”
You nodded again, chewing absently on your snack.
“Must be nice,” he muttered, crossing his arms. “Bet he’s the type to open doors and call you ma’am too.”
You laughed. “I mean, manners aren’t exactly a red flag.”
“Oh yeah, totally,” he said, voice picking up heat now, even as he smiled. “So polite. Bet he irons his shirts and rehearses compliments in the mirror.”
You gave him a look, amused. “What is with you?”
“Nothing. Just sayin’—guy’s probably all talk. Bet he folds under pressure. Can’t even kill a spider without screaming.”
You raised a brow, “That’s a bold assumption.”
He scoffed, throwing his hands up, still smiling but not meaning it. “I’m taller, better looking, and I don’t have to try so hard to impress people.”
Your jaw dropped a little. “What?”
“I’m just saying,” he said, raising his bottle in mock-toast. “If you’re gonna go for someone ‘cool,’ maybe aim higher. You know. Someone who’s taller, funnier, better-looking, less try-hard. Maybe someone who’s known you since you were five. Just throwing that out there.”
“Huh?”
“And I bet my dick’s bigger than his."
You choked on your drink, “What?!”
He blinked. “What?”
You stared at him, stunned, and he just gave a tiny shrug like oops, did I say that out loud?
You laughed, shaking your head, brushing it all off like it was just another one of his weird ego trips. “Okay, weirdo.”
He didn’t respond right away.
He just watched you, jaw tightening slightly as you turned your attention back to your phone, entirely missing the storm he was trying to hide behind casual smirks and crude jokes.
You didn’t get it, because you didn’t think he looked at you that way.
***
After that conversation, things didn’t exactly change—but they didn’t quite go back to normal either.
He still walked you home. Still flopped onto your bed like it was his own. Still stole your snacks and your charger and your last bit of patience on most days.
But sometimes, you’d catch him watching you a little too long.
Not in the obvious way. Not like the way other guys did, staring with boldness and intentions written all over their faces.
No—he did it quietly. Like he was trying to memorize the way you smiled when you thought no one was looking. Like he was trying to figure something out about you… or maybe about himself.
Then there were the little shifts.
He started texting back slower when you told him you were talking to that guy again. Didn’t say anything harsh, but his replies were short. Blunt.
And when that same guy approached you one afternoon in the hallway, he just so happened to slide in between you two, throwing an arm around your shoulder.
“Didn’t know you liked hanging out with traffic cones,” he muttered with a lopsided grin, nodding at the guy’s neon hoodie.
You laughed nervously, brushing it off. “You’re so dumb.”
But the guy left after that. Didn’t even try to keep the conversation going.
And when you asked him what that was about, he just shrugged.
“Didn’t like his face.”
You rolled your eyes. “You don’t like anyone’s face lately.”
He smiled. “Yours is okay, I guess.”
And then there were those times when you were on your phone, texting, and he’d lean over your shoulder too quickly.
“Who’s that?”
“No one.”
“Hmm. No one has a name?”
You sighed, brushing him away. “Why are you so nosy lately?”
But he’d never answer. He’d just flop backward onto the couch or your bed and throw an arm over his eyes like he was bored. Or tired. Or both.
But you felt it.
Something had shifted.
He was getting quieter about the things he didn’t say. Quieter about how he stayed so close but kept himself just far enough that you wouldn’t really notice.
***
You didn’t say anything about it to him.
Not when you got the number. Not when you exchanged a few late-night texts with the guy from class. And definitely not when he asked who kept lighting up your phone and you lied—said it was your cousin, or some stupid group chat.
Because… if he wanted to keep treating you like you were just his best friend, then fine. Maybe you’d stop waiting. You were plain ol Jane anyway, at this rate you'd end up alone. Not like anyone would like you if you don't even try or put any effort to yourself. Maybe it was time to try something different.
Someone different.
So you said yes to a date.
It wasn’t a big deal. Just a small place near the station, casual, low-pressure. You wore a little lip tint. Changed your shirt twice. Checked your phone four times on the way there.
You even left the house without telling him.
Which was rare.
Because somehow, despite how frustrated you were, you still felt a little guilty doing something like this without him knowing. Scrap that! You shouldn't feel guilty at all, it's not like you're his girlfriend or something. Plus, this was your first date, you shouldn't even think of him.
You got there early. Sat at the little table. Smoothed your skirt out. Sipped water slowly.
And waited.
Then waited some more.
Minutes passed. Then a half-hour. Then an hour.
No messages. No call. Just… silence.
At some point, you stopped pretending to check your phone like there was something new. You just sat there, hands folded, eyes distant. Trying not to let it sink in too hard, but it did anyway.
He didn’t show.
No explanation.
No reason.
Just a reminder that maybe you really weren’t the type to be chosen after all.
By the time you got home, it was dark. You kicked your shoes off a little harder than usual, holding back the pressure behind your eyes. The house was quiet. Your parents weren’t home. Just you. And the lingering ache of rejection sitting heavy in your chest.
Maybe you shouldn't gotten your hopes up.
And then you heard the knock on your door. You already knew who it was.
He walked in like he always did, with a lazy grin and a snack in hand. You stared at him like you hadn’t just spent an hour trying to convince yourself you were worth showing up for.
“Yo. You were gone,” he said, tossing a drink on your desk like usual. “Didn’t text me back. Something happened?”
You looked up from where you sat on your bed, your voice dull. “No. I just… needed some air.”
He paused. The grin faltered, but only for a split second.
“…Did you go somewhere?”
You forced a laugh, shaking your head. “Just errands. Nothing interesting.”
He didn’t question it. He trusted you too easily. Or maybe he didn’t want to push. Instead, he stretched out beside you, letting out a sigh. “People are exhausting. I don’t get how you deal with them.”
You shrugged, keeping your voice light. “Guess I just have more patience.”
He turned his head to look at you then—really looked. Eyes soft, searching.
“You okay?”
You smiled, quick and small. “Yeah. Just tired.”
And that was the thing with him. He’d always pull back just when he was about to see something too real. Like he was afraid of what he might find if he looked too closely.
So, he let it go.
He reached for the controller on your desk, tossing it in your lap. “Wanna game ‘til we pass out?”
You nodded.
Because what else could you do?
You couldn’t tell him your date never showed up. You couldn’t tell him that for a brief moment, you thought maybe—just maybe—you could be wanted by someone else. That someone else could make you forget the way he made you feel without ever touching you.
***
Of course, he knew.
He always knew.
He noticed the shift before you even realized it yourself—how you started texting a little less when he was around, how you smiled down at your phone and quickly locked it when he leaned over. How you’d hum that soft little tune you always did when you were nervous or excited.
It didn’t take much.
One glance at your screen while you left it unattended. One name. One stupid string of texts about Friday and coffee and maybe I’ll see you there? :)
And it pissed him off more than he wanted to admit.
Not because he thought you weren’t allowed to date. Not even because he thought the guy was anything special.
No.
It was because you thought someone else could understand you better than he did. That someone else could earn what he’d spent years protecting.
You didn’t know it, but he was the reason most guys never got near you in the first place.
He wasn’t exactly subtle—especially in high school. Any guy who so much as looked at you too long got “the talk.” A casual hand around your shoulders. A stare that went a little too cold. A whispered “She’s not interested” even if you hadn’t said it yourself.
He made it hard for anyone to approach. On purpose.
Because you were his.
Not in the possessive, boyfriend kind of way. At least, that’s what he told himself. But in the I know every part of you, and no one else ever will kind of way.
So when this new guy started sniffing around, he didn’t wait.
He caught the guy behind the gym after class, right where the hallway cameras didn’t reach.
The guy flinched when he turned the corner and saw him standing there—arms crossed, calm smile on his face like this was just another casual run-in. But his eyes… his eyes were cold.
“Hey,” he said smoothly, stepping into his path.
The guy hesitated, confused. “Uh. Hey?”
“You’ve been texting her.”
The guy blinked, caught off guard. “I—what?”
He took another step closer. “Don’t play dumb. You’ve been trying to take her out. Planning something for Friday, right? Café date?”
The guy laughed nervously, confused. “Yeah? I mean… she said yes.”
That smile widened, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
“Yeah. She’s nice like that.”
Then the smile dropped.
“But let’s get one thing straight.”
The guy’s brows pulled together. “What are you—?”
He grabbed the front of his collar, shoving him hard against the wall, voice dropping low and sharp.
“You’re not gonna show up.”
The guy froze. “What the hell is your problem?!”
“I don’t like repeating myself.” He leaned in close, breath calm and voice terrifyingly even. “You’re going to leave her alone. You’re going to block her. And you’re never going to speak to her again.”
“You’re insane—!”
He smiled again, twisting the guy’s shirt tighter. “No. You’re stupid. See, here’s the thing. I’m the popular guy. Good grades. Everyone loves me.” He tilted his head, voice dropping even further. “You? You’re a background character. No one’s gonna believe some awkward little shit over me. You tell anyone I threatened you, and all I have to do is smile and say, ‘Who, me?’ And everyone will laugh and move on.”
He let go with a shove, stepping back as the guy gasped, fixing his shirt.
“You can call it jealousy. Obsession. Whatever makes you feel better,” he said, brushing invisible dust off his sleeve. “But here’s what it really is, I’m not letting someone like you anywhere near her.”
The guy stared at him, chest heaving.
He walked away with a casual wave. “Don’t forget. Friday? You’re busy~”
The guy didn’t show up.
And that night, when he dropped by your room and found you curled up and quiet, wearing his hoodie like a safety blanket, something in his chest twisted.
You didn’t say a word about it.
But he knew.
He could see the flicker of hurt behind your eyes. The soft smile you gave him—fake, practiced. The way you brushed him off like it didn’t matter. He wanted to feel satisfied. Victorious.
But it just made him feel worse.
Because no matter how much he tried to control things… he couldn’t stop that sadness in your eyes.
You didn’t even know it was him. Didn’t even know that all this time, the reason you felt so overlooked, so invisible was because he’d made sure of it.
Not because he wanted to hurt you. But because he couldn’t stand the idea of someone else seeing what he saw.
You were his quiet. His warmth. His constant.
And if someone else took that away from him?
He didn’t know who he’d be.
***
It started small.
You noticed it when you caught him glaring at someone you’d only spoken to once. When your texts started mysteriously going unanswered. When people who used to be friendly now looked at you like they didn’t want to get involved.
At first, you thought you were just overthinking it. Paranoia, maybe. You were introverted, bad at reading people. You kept to yourself more often than not, maybe that just meant people naturally faded away.
But then there were moments.
Moments where you caught the sharpness behind his smile when someone mentioned another guy’s name. Moments where his “jokes” about being possessive didn’t feel so funny anymore. Moments where he looked at you too long, too quietly, like he was thinking something he couldn’t say out loud.
And then that night—everything shifted.
He was in your room again. Like always. Sprawled out on your bed, head resting against your pillow like it belonged to him. You were on your floor, flipping through old game cases, trying to ignore the heavy beat of your heart.
“You’ve been quiet lately,” he said, tone light but eyes tracking every move you made.
You shrugged. “Just thinking.”
“About?”
You didn’t answer right away. You didn’t really know how to. Your mind had been a mess lately, spinning with everything you didn’t understand. Everything you were starting to understand.
“Do you…” you hesitated, eyes on the case in your hand. “Do you ever think people avoid me because of you?”
He sat up. Slowly.
“Where’s that coming from?”
“I don’t know,” you muttered. “It just feels like… people don’t even try anymore.”
There was a beat of silence.
Then he stood. Walked over. Sat beside you on the floor, shoulder brushing yours. You didn’t look at him. You felt like you couldn’t.
You looked up at him, finally and your breath caught.
He was quiet for a second. Then he said, voice low, “Maybe I like it that way.”
And then he kissed you.
Because his eyes weren’t teasing. They were serious. Dark. Familiar in a way that suddenly felt foreign.
Just like that.
No warning. No permission.
His lips were on yours—soft, warm, dangerous. It wasn’t rushed, but it wasn’t gentle either. It was sure. Like he’d been waiting. Like he’d done it a thousand times in his head already.
You froze.
For a second, your brain short-circuited. Everything blanked. Your body didn’t know whether to lean in or pull away. Because you’d thought about this before. God, had you thought about it. Wondered, dreamed, ached over it. But now that it was real…
You remembered the girls. The rumors. The way he never looked twice at them after he got bored.
You pulled back, breath catching. “Don’t.”
He blinked at you, surprised, maybe even a little hurt.
You stood, fast. Hands shaking. “You should go.”
He didn’t move.
Instead, he gave you a small, crooked smile. The kind you used to find charming. The kind that now made your stomach twist.
“Why?” he said softly. “I wanna stay the night.”
You stared at him.
He tilted his head, like this was all just a game, “We can play boyfriend and girlfriend again,” he said, voice low, teasing. “Like we used to when we were kids. Remember that?”
You took a step back. “That was pretend.”
“So~?” He stood too now, closing the space between you. “Let’s pretend again. This time I won’t leave.”
Your chest tightened.
You want to push him away, your mind reeling with the memories of him being a playboy.
“I said you should go,” you repeated, trying to keep your voice firm.
And you hated that your heart skipped. That your body remembered the kiss more than your mind could process it. But your gut? Your gut screamed something was wrong. You took another step back, putting space between you.
He didn’t move. His eyes tracked you like prey, something unreadable flickering beneath the surface.
"You used to let me sleep over all the time," he said softly, like he was reminding you of a rule you were suddenly breaking. “What changed?”
Everything, you wanted to say.
But instead, your voice came out smaller than you intended. “That was when we were kids.”
A slow grin tugged at his lips—but it wasn’t his usual smile. It was something darker. Almost sad.
“You’re acting like I’m a stranger.”
You clenched your fists, unsure why your throat felt tight. “You are. Lately... I don’t know what you are.”
Something in his jaw twitched. The grin dropped.
And then, suddenly he stepped forward.
You barely had time to flinch before you felt his hands on your shoulders, gently but firmly guiding you backward. Your knees hit the edge of your bed. You stumbled. Sat down.
His body was close. Too close.
Your breath hitched.
“I don’t want you to be scared of me,” he murmured, crouching slightly so he could look you in the eyes. “I’d never hurt you. You know that, right?”
You nodded slowly, heart hammering. But the unease wouldn’t leave.
He placed a hand beside your thigh on the bed, leaning in.
“Then why are you shaking?”
You didn't answer.
Because part of you didn’t know if it was fear… or something else. Something even more dangerous—doubt.
You tried to stand again, but he didn’t move back. He was watching you too closely. Like he was trying to read your mind. Like he already knew what was in it.
"I know you're confused," he said. "But deep down, you've always felt something too. I just had the guts to do something about it."
You opened your mouth, to argue, to tell him to leave again but nothing came out. Instead, you whispered, "I don't know what you're doing anymore."
His expression cracked for a moment—something bitter bleeding through.
“I’m doing what I should’ve done a long time ago.”
And for the first time, he didn’t try to mask it.
#lovesick#dark content#yandere x y/n#yandere x reader#yandere genshin#yandere genshin impact#yandere honkai star rail#yandere hsr#yandere jjk#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere x darling#yandere x female reader#yandere suguru geto#yandere childe#yandere gojo#love and deepspace#yandere caleb#l&ds caleb#yandere childhood friend#yandere gojo x reader
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♡ TW: ghostface, yandere, prank calls, threats, implied kidnapping, implied noncon
♡ FEM reader
It was already past midnight. And you, despite your half-mast eyes, were still lying stomach-down, sprawled out on the couch, too lazy to get up.
Some dumb show about some dumb dysfunctional family was playing low on the TV in front of you, not much to your interest, or at least not enough to keep you awake, but enough to act as white noise you didn’t mind letting lull you to sleep.
You were beginning to drool on your pillow, struggling with the indecision of getting up to brush your teeth and the more tempting, pleasant thought of simply sleeping right there, without the chores of getting ready for bed.
Your arm was mindlessly dangling towards the ground where the remote had slipped some time ago, along with your phone, that suddenly, just when it looked like you were about to fully nod off, started to ring.
Startled awake, you flinched at the sheer chimes buzzing loudly beneath you, like an alarm clock was going off. However, by the looks of the pitch-black darkness outside the window, it was visibly still the middle of the night.
You groaned then, both out of ire and a bit of relief—happy you could fall asleep again without needing to worry, yet reluctant to have to speak to someone for much of the same reason.
Deliberating it for a small moment, you thought it might be a friend with some silly emergency and were tempted to ignore it before guilt got in the way—where with a pinch between your brows and a big yawn, you swiped to answer it. Stating under your breath that whoever it was owed you big time.
Clicking speakerphone, you had your eyes still fully closed while croaking out a groggy and slightly bothered, “Hello?”
You expected to hear drunken cries and the muted thumps of base and beat and club chatter or something like it—all in all, at least a whiney drunken voice belonging to a friend—but none of the sort was at the other end of the line.
“Hello,” a dark voice replied—audibly altered by a scrambler.
It startled you—enough to make your eyes open at least—still, you didn’t really have the sensibility to think too much of it just yet.
“Who’s this?” you asked.
“Who’s this?” he echoed back, making your brows further scrunch.
“You’re the one calling?” you said in askance, dragging your head from the pillow to peek down at the phone on the floor, viewing the caller ID, which gave you next to nothing aside from letting you know that your caller was unknown.
“You tell me your name, and I’ll tell you mine,” he offered then, and your suspicions of it being a prank call only solidified.
And although the corner of your mouth quirked upward by the sentiment, it was unfortunately just a bit too late for you to be in the mood.
“I’m a little too sleepy for pranks right now—sorry. Try again tomorrow, bye,” you managed to muster through a yawn, hanging up and thinking that was the end of it.
Only, it didn’t take long for the phone to ring again.
“Why don’t you wanna talk to me?” the same voice asked through the phone, now a little whiney, though obviously playing it up.
The thought of simply hanging up again crossed your mind, but at the same time, you didn’t really see the harm in talking for a bit. You were awake now anyway, and you couldn't exactly deny being a little intrigued. After all, given that he was using a voice scrambler, it wasn’t so unlikely that it was someone you knew.
And with that, you figured you’d humor them, if only for a little while before getting up and brushing your teeth. And so, you ask, “Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to talk to strangers?”
And it answered, “No~” still in that very altered voice that made it impossible to place.
“Well, my mother taught me better,” you joked with a tiny laugh, thinking the entire thing was kind of exciting now that you were sobering up.
Not knowing exactly who was on the other end made you feel all giddy, head spinning over who it might be, whether it was a coworker or friend, or someone else entirely. You couldn't quite figure out who would bother to do such a thing in the dead of night—to you, of all people.
“Oh, come on, aren’t you tired of being a goody-two-shoes?” he flirted back, and you giggled a little louder while picking the phone up from the floor, now keeping it close to your chest as if you were a teenager whispering naughty things to your boyfriend in the dead of night so that your parents wouldn't hear.
“Fine then, Mr. Stranger~” you say slowly and coyly, rolling over onto your back before continuing. “What did you wanna talk to me about?”
A dark chuckle came back through the phone, making your stomach purr in turn before he spoke again, “What are you wearing?”
You paused at that, cheeks heating with teeth sinking deep into your lip. Looking down at your drab pajamas, you didn’t exactly feel inclined to be truthful. “Hm…”
Pondering for a moment, you smile.
“Sexy lingerie~” you lie through your teeth, trying hard to keep from laughing as you put on your best mock-sultry voice.
“I don’t like liars,” the man answered. “I know you’re in your jammies.”
You pouted then. “Okay, fine—you caught me.”
“Still sexy, though,” he added, making you giggle again.
“And you’re a little creepy, Mr. Stranger. You aren't stalking me, are you?” you ask in a tease, biting your lip with a smile while looking at the phone, eager for his reply.
Only his answer isn't very nice. “You’re the one begging for it, whoring around with an unknown man on the phone, slut.”
Your eyes widened, skin taken by a cold rush. In the same way you'd react when spotting a mosquito on your arm, you abruptly slapped the phone and hung up.
His voice had changed, turned darker, and immediately the whole conversation didn’t feel very fun anymore. Suddenly sour, it left a foul taste in your mouth that made you feel all in all rather stupid for even having amused it in the first place.
But once again… it only took a few seconds for the phone to ring a third time.
“Don’t hang up on me,” the same voice demanded.
And while both fed up and put off, you sighed with a huff, voice sharp, asking him, “What do you want?”
“Don't be like that. I told you already, I only want to know your name~” he said, his playful tone of voice back again—only this time, you weren’t at all charmed by it anymore.
“Why do you want to know my name?” you bit out sourly. Unsure why you were still on the phone, and even more unsure why you even bothered picking up yet again at all.
“Well… ‘cause…” he began slowly with a pause, and your brows only sunk lower with his antics, finding yourself properly pissed-off until he uttered the next line, only now in a deeply unsettling whisper. “I want to know who I’m looking at.”
You went cold, and colder than cold with a chill running sharply down your spine.
Sitting up slowly, eyes alert, you held the phone tightly in your grip while looking at all the windows, viewing the darkness outside.
“Oh, you look cute when you’re scared~” he continued, making you jump to your feet and stomp over to the first window, frantically drawing the curtains one after the other until none remained.
“Quit calling,” you finished, hanging up for what you really wished would be the last time.
However, seconds later, the phone rang again despite your wish. But this time, you let it ring, deliberating whether you ought to call the police or simply ignore it until it stopped.
You went to check if the outer door was locked before padding back to the couch, listening to the phone finish ringing before beginning anew.
You figured he’d stop after a while, but minutes passed without a break until you finally picked up, not out of fear, but anger.
“I told you not to hang up on me!” he yelled, and you snarled in turn.
“Listen, asshole-”
“No, you listen, you stupid bitch—” he interrupted. “If you hang up on me again, I’ll wring your little neck ‘til your eyes pop out of your skull!”
You gaped at his threats but weren’t about to let yourself be bullied either. “If you don’t stop calling, the next call will be to the police!”
“Tch—” he scoffed before laughter spilled through the speaker. Crackling harshly through the scrambler, louder and louder until it stopped with the next utterance, “Stupid pigs won’t make it in time.”
There was a crash of glass somewhere upstairs, and you flinched while withholding a scream.
Fear hit you like a flash, robbing you of breath before your instinct took you towards the door.
Rushing, wide-eyed and goosefleshed, you swallowed thickly while trying to think. With your phone gripped tightly in one hand, you tried pushing in the numbers to the police—while at the same time struggling with the lock to the door, shaking the knob with no fruition until finally pushing it open.
You cast a glance over your shoulder, viewing the empty house that now suddenly seemed much darker than before and the eerie staircase leading up to the earlier crash—ears going deaf with the rush of blood in your head, pumping thick from the panicked beating of your heart.
As you turn around again, you hear shoes coming thundering down the stairs as you take a rushed step without yet facing forward. You had your mind set on running to the neighbors, only, instead of bursting out into the open street, you were sent backwards into the house again, stumbling until you hit the floor with a wince.
Your phone slipped from your hand, not only crashing to the ground as hard as you did but smashing into a broken mess as well—now utterly useless.
A dark-cloaked figure stood at the threshold, taking up the entire frame. At the same time, there's a tall presence behind you clad in the exact same way. Screaming white mask and all.
“Silly bitch,” the one in front said nonchalantly, stepping inside—shoulders broad and boots heavy.
The one behind laughed, bringing forth a large knife that made your life flash vividly before your very eyes.
“Didn’t your mama ever tell you not to let strangers inside the house?”
♡ BNHA – Kiri-Baku, Shiga-Dabi, Dabi-Hawks, Kiri-Denki, Shin-Baku ♡ JJK – Suku-Jaku, Suku-Go, Sato-Sugu, Ken-Hito ♡ HQ – KuroTsuki, KuroLev, IwaKyo, Miya twins, ♡ BLLK – NagiReo, RinSae, RyuSae
♡ FEM x M INSERT masterlist ♡ GN x M INSERT masterlist
#x reader#yandere x reader#yandere#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere smut#yancore#smut#yandere my hero academia#yandere boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia smut#mha smut#yandere mha#yandere bnha#my hero smut#my hero academia smut#bnha smut#yandere jujutsu kaisen#yandere jjk#jujutsu kaisen smut#jjk smut#yandere male#reader x character#reader x various#reader x yandere
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calyptra thalictri
simon "ghost" riley x fem!reader | masterlist
sow
tw: drugging, non/dub-con, somno, implied breeding
He comes to you in dreams with heady breath that bleeds through black cloth to brush against your face like a lover's kiss.
But he is no lover, nor man.
Only monster—you call him Ghost.
Ghost arrives when you're in the slick, airy stage between slumber and consciousness, where everything shines too bright and yet is shrouded in a numbra so thick you swear it will choke you. Nothing but tendrils to morph and dance in your vision as you look up at the wide mass before you.
Each time he visits, he wears a mask. Black, with a chalky skull outline along his nose and where his mouth should be—only his eyes are visible. Pools of water darker than the lowest depths of the ocean, ready to drown you. Ready to feel the way your pulse quickens when held beneath the waves that have consumed him long ago.
He never speaks. Not to you—only to himself in deep growls that your fuzzy brain can scarcely make sense of. When he first came to you all those months ago, he stood at the edge of your bed—foreboding, looming taller than any beast you've ever seen or have yet to see since. You were only able to keep your brain awake long enough to make out the way his jaw dances beneath his mask to murmur the word perfect.
You think nothing of it until you start to wake up sore. It's more than odd bruises along your hips that sting when you poke them—it's the pounding in your head when you rouse, and the swelling of your cunt. Your lip is torn; split down the center. A curious tongue pokes at the blood that oozes from the crack, and it tastes suspiciously like love.
The next time he appears, he is on top of you. Hips pinning yours to the bed, hands on either side of your head, your body jostles. Every shockwave ripples through your body, shaking the fatty tissue along your thighs and stomach—you feel each thrust in your throat.
You groan, and he shushes you.
"Soon," he hisses. Your eyes roll into the back of your head, darkness consuming your vision, but not your hearing. "It'll take soon."
Countless nights pass like this. He comes to you, body joining with yours, murmuring things that aren't meant for human ears—that aren't meant for anyone corporeal. Each time you attempt to speak, you find your vocal cords painfully paralyzed. They die in your throat. Shrivel into useless tissue. All your questions bleed through your tongue to fester, leaving you with a sour taste in your mouth when you wake.
He's not real—your little Ghost. Only the most concerning reoccurring dream you've ever been plagued with.
You tell your friends about this dream. About this strange man who haunts your psyche when you can't quite get your bearings. You speak of his mask, and how he pins you with his gaze alone; how real his hands feel on you. Embarrassment forces you to omit the sensation of his cock and how it pummels you, but share the odd wounds you wake up with. Bitten lips, raw skin.
Their gazes shame you, and you do not speak of it again.
Some childish part of you had hoped that these dreams would cease the moment you spoke them out loud, but Ghost is persistent. He comes again, and again, and again. Hot breath wheezing. Tight throat growling. Firm hands squeezing.
Soon. Soon. Soon. Soon. Soon.
There is one night when your dream verges on the edge of reality, finally granting you the opportunity to talk to him.
Your Ghost.
Body rocking, legs bent and hips widened, your chest heaves as you force your eyes open as your question expels from your throat:
"Real?"
Ghost freezes. He stares down at you with the same, dark eyes he always does, and you try your best to keep your gaze locked on him. A shaky hand rises off of the bed, fingertips kissing his clothed cheek as you groan.
"Are you... real...?"
Ghost shrugs your hand off of him. "Sleep."
Unable to keep your eyes open any longer, you follow his order. Eyes fluttering shut, breath sighing from your nose, you allow slumber to capture you in her fickle grasp.
Though, you swear you feel clothed lips on yours and dull teeth piercing into your mouth before she can fully pull you under.
When Simon is finished with you, he stands at the edge of your bed like he usually does. Everything is tight. The knots that dot his back, the tension at the base of his skull—but everything feels quiet when he looks at you. There, in bed, ruined by him. Sleeping soundly, unaware of the apparition who's been taking you as his own for all these months.
Before he leaves, Simon pats the pocket of his jumper, and reminds himself to add more Benadryl powder to your sleepy-time tea mix before he leaves.
He can't have you asking questions like that again—not when he's too busy trying to make you his.
#ilium writing#female reader#sr ilia#ghost x reader#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#calyptra thalictri
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