#with the horrible experience leaving my last job was

[auntie-histamine]

I start my new part-time job today 😬 Please wish me luck I'm so nervous

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[acoazlove]

A New Place | part two

Azriel x Archeron!Reader

Summary: Months after a horrible birthday, you’re happy with new friends, but soon you’ll find out that you have to face your family once again.

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: Angst, Fluff

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It’s been three months and they haven’t come to see you. Not a single one of them. So either they don’t care and haven’t looked for you, or they just can’t find you. However, that’s a stupid thought because they could send Azriel, he is the spymaster after all.

You have to keep telling yourself you don’t care because it's easier that way. Thinking about it for too long would cause you to spiral. One that you’re not sure you could get out of.

On the bright side of all of this, you’ve made friends with your coworkers, and know a few regulars by name.

Benny has been the most helpful through it all. Was there even when you were being stubborn and trying to pull away completely. Trying to isolate yourself so nothing and no one can hurt you again.

The first week after you had moved into the apartment above the bar—which isn’t nearly as bad as it sounds—she taught you how to pour drinks, what bottle is what on the shelf, how to clean glasses efficiently, but best of all, how to deal with all kinds of fae who decide to wander in. The worst of which were creepy males who couldn’t take no for an answer.

Benny kept your mind busy, doing anything and everything she could, giving you advice despite not asking for it. One of the most freeing feelings was no guilt when you went shopping for the first time since being on your own, now you don’t feel like you owe anyone when you spend a single dollar.

Your coworkers were the next best thing for getting your mind away from your family. Odessa—the black-haired female—is probably your favourite person other than Benny. She looked quite intimidating at first but once you got to know her she was a sweetheart—kind and funny. Quick to make you feel at home. She is also a busybody, not that you complain.

Speaking of Odessa, she’s standing in front of you, her hip leaning on the edge of the bar, animatedly moving her hands as she ranted about her latest experience with ‘irritating males’ as she so kindly put it.

“Gods, then he tried to buy me a drink even though I told him I wasn’t interested again.” Exasperated, she finishes her story with a scoff and an eye-roll. You purse your lips and lift your guilty gaze to meet hers, the female tilts her head at your expression, and her mouth drops open, “Were you not listening to me?” she exclaims.

You place the glass that you were drying down on the bar top. A heavy breath leaving you and an apologetic look on your face, “I was Dessa, I promise. I just got in my head.” Mumbling the last part. A playful glare graces her features, and then a smile tugs at the corner of her lips, “You're lucky you’re good at your job. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be so nice.” A snort escapes you at that.

Just as you were about to retort, a hand harshly claps your shoulder, “She is good at her job, but she won’t be if she keeps getting distracted by you. Now go on.” The deep voice shoos her away. Frowning in return, she grabs a tray of drinks and stalks off with a crude gesture thrown over her shoulder at him.

You turn to see scruffy brown hair and tanned skin—Dominic. who is the biggest and most intimidating male you’ve ever seen, also an older male, with faint lines on his scowling face. He still won't tell you how old he is. You'd have to guess he's older than the males in the inner circle.

He raises his eyebrows at you. Flushing slightly upon realising that he must have asked you a question, while you were lost in thought. Again.

A sharp exhale passes through his lips, waving a hand in exasperation, “Can you please go check on the boys in the back? They're taking far too long to just bring out a couple of crates of booze.” With a curt nod, you turn and head into the kitchen.

Scanning the room, you find the two males you were sent to find. Oberon and Tarian, chatting away while seated in the corner. You arch a brow at the sight, arms crossing over your chest. The huff you let out pulls their attention to you, a friendly smile from Tarian and a feline smirk from Oberon sent your way.

“Dominic wants to know what’s taking you so long to get the new crates of liquor.” Grimaces shift their expressions. They share a look before turning back to you. Oberon's cropped blonde hair falls across his forehead at the movement, blue eyes meeting your own. Lips pulled into his previous smirk. “Wasn't Adem supposed to help?”

An incredulous look twists your features. “Just do it.” You grumble before turning to leave. “y/n.” Tarian’s raspy voice grabs your attention. Pale skin glimmering in the soft lights, “Cover for us?” mousy-coloured curls bouncing slightly with a tilt of his head. Grey eyes glittered with mischief.

You scoff before you exit the kitchen. “No. I got in trouble last time.” snickers are heard from behind you at that, though you do hear bottles clink together, indicating they had finally decided to do their job.

Blue hair flashes across your vision, Benny stepping into your path. “Break time.” voice with a singsong tone. Just as you're about to argue that you had your last one not too long ago, she cuts in. “Your last break was about five hours ago.” her arms folded over her chest.

Eyes widening before giving her a small defeated nod, you follow her to the bar's entrance, passing Adem on the way. The red-haired male gives you a smile, which you return as you pass through the door.

─

The inner circle has been miserable, sulking over every word you had yelled at them. Truly realising their own mistakes soon after the door had slammed closed behind them. Not going to look for you, with the excuse of wanting to give you space. Three months of space isn’t enough it seems.

Azriel immediately sent a few shadows after you to make sure you’d be okay. Well as okay as one could be after a horrific birthday. Those same shadows hadn’t left your side since. You haven’t noticed them yet, but it was only a matter of time before you did. Swirling dark tendrils aren’t exactly the most discrete thing when one is walking in broad daylight.

He had felt horrible that he hadn’t said anything when you looked at him that night. He just couldn’t bring himself to say that he was the only one who didn’t forget your day. Or the fact he had gotten you a present and hadn’t given it to you. The day after you left, he had given the present to Benny to give to you, which she did, but fulfilled his wish to not say it was from him. Already Feeling bad enough for not giving you it himself.

Walking down the cobbled streets of Valaris was something he and his brothers had done for years, though since Rhys had been crowned high lord, it was rare for them to get that time. The three of them looking for a place to maybe have lunch, or just sit and have a nice chat. Any excuse to spend just a couple more hours together. Their mates had sent them off so they could have a ‘girls’ day’ at home, which is most likely a cover to plan how to make it up to you.

A pointy elbow jabs Azriel in the ribs, pulling him out of his thoughts with a pained grunt. Glaring up at his brother, Cassian only replies with a snort. “What was that for?” Azriel grits out, hand rubbing his side.

“You’re brooding. No brooding on boys’ day.” At his words, a chuckle escapes from Rhysand who’s on Cassian’s otherside.

“I am not brooding.” Azriel grumbles. “Fine then, moping.” Cassian’s words have that same teasing tone as when they’re sparring, trying to rile him up as much as possible

Opening his mouth to growl out a retort, shining blue hair flashes from across the street at a Cafe, catching Cass’ attention. “Benny!” His booming voice yells towards her.

Head snapping in the direction that her name came from. a beaming smile stretching across her features seeing the three boys.

Before Rhys or Az can pull him back, Cassians already bounding over to her, pulling her into a hug before she could take a seat at her table. A laugh bubbles from her chest, hugging him back.

Joining them, Rhys grins at her, And Azriel gives her a nod of acknowledgement. “Long time no see. How’ve you boys been?” her smile still clear in her voice.

“We’ve been great, how about you? Are you having a late lunch all by yourself?” Rhysand’s voice has his usual charming lilt to it.

“I’ve been good too. Not alone, my friend is in the bathroom.” Azriel’s attention is pulled towards the bathroom door as if he could tell who her friend was from where he is standing. “Haven't seen you all in nearly a century. Busy with mates now I assume.” more a question than a statement.

“Yup,” Cassian enthusiastically pops the ‘p’ “you need to meet them, you’ll love them.” A loud, over exaggerated gasp gets pulled from him. “We should all go to your bar for dinner and drinks.” Beaming, likes it’s his best idea he’s ever had.

Benny’s own smile grows in response. “I'd love that. I’ll even reserve your old favourite table. Though I might have to pull two together considering how much your family’s grown.

a bark of excited laughter is pulled from Cassian. Rhys pulls him away before he can distract her from her lunch any more than he already has. “Sounds like a plan. Let’s leave you to it, and we’ll see you in a couple days?”

“I’ll save a couple tables for you.” She embraces each of them, before pulling away and waving them off, to finally sit down.

They depart with smiles and waves, then head off to find a place for them to have their lunch. Azriel can’t help but look over his shoulder hoping to catch a glimpse of who she’s with. Before they round a corner and are out of sight, he sees exactly who it is. You.

─

You exit the toilet and make your way over to the table Benny had chosen outside. The food and coffee you had picked now waiting for you.

As you pull your chair out, she turns her gaze back to you, a grin gracing her cerulean features. Deciding to ignore the mischievous undertones of that look, you pick up the pastry sitting in front of you and take a bite.

“We're going to be busy in a couple of days. A couple tables have been booked.” She speaks as if it’s an afterthought.

Your brows pull together at her words. “Since when did we reserve tables?” you inquire, never having heard that was a possibility for the bar. “We don't. They’re just special guests.” her voice light as she picks up her coffee, signalling that she won’t be answering any more questions.

Glancing in the direction that held her attention previously, you find nothing. whoever it was must’ve been important for Benny to change her usual routine with the bar. choosing not to dwell on it for too long, you turn back to the female in front of you, to enjoy your lunch.

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a/n: There might be some spelling mistakes. I’m sorry for taking so long to post this, and i know this isn’t exactly the part two you guys wanted, but the story needs to be built up just a little bit. I promise the next part won’t take as long, and there will absolutely be more interactions with the inner circle. Thank you for your patience, I have had low energy because I’ve been quite sick, and haven’t been able to get this to a place where I want to post it. I hope you liked it anyway. <3

[alllgator-blood]

I call this one "found family but it goes horribly wrong in an irreparable way" :)

I've been doing a lot of cotl comics but I kinda lost my comic making endurance after not working on art since last september, so I made this to help me flex my art muscles. Apologies for the watermarks lmao they kinda kill the mood but I've already had people repost my art when I put it on reddit so...might as well get the credit if my stuff is gonna be reposted regardless. RAMBLE INCOMING!!

Thinking about how shamura was most likely the one to find + raise their adopted siblings and help them survive the mass deicide that happened thousands of years before....OUUGH. I have so many ideas for comics that take place when half the bishops were still lil kids. I have one in progress right now actually. But it just hurts when I remember how it all ends- they loved their family for so long and yet they credit their love as what caused it to fall apart!!! The lore of the bishops only sunk in when I was dealing with my own heavy sibling angst, and I was like wow....shamura supported the sibs so much they accidentally encouraged their brother into being a heretic, and couldn't close pandora's box in time to save him or the rest of the family. They blame themself for the past 1,000 years and seem to be totally okay with dying for what they did?? Like when they get sent to the shadow realm they tell you to "finish the job" instead of leaving them in purgatory. And despite being the bishop of war, they are the only bishop to not have a "desperate" phase where their attacks get more brutal. They're not desperate, they just want to get it over with. All their other siblings are dead by then anyway so it's not like they have anything to stick around for, even if they were healthy enough to win the battle. Plus I mean...narinder is the bishop of death so they probably just want to see him one last time. Owch

Don't get me wrong I love to hate narinder and his only role in my cult is the guy who cleans the outhouse, but I really like his dynamic with shamura vs. the other siblings. I kinda see him as the troubled kid that couldn't assimilate into the family and shamura took it upon themself to try and fix him. It's interesting thinking about how they're the only one he shows remorse for despite feeling the most betrayed by them. I don't think he 100% hates them, he's just been locked in gay baby jail for so long he's had nothing better to think about than "my sibling encouraged me to experiment with my godly duties, and then punished me for it!!". He's not wrong? But also is shamura that wrong either??? Idk it's complicated with no real answer and I like it a lot, I wish the game told us more about what the bishops were like before they got their shit rocked during the schism. I would've loved to see shamura before their brain was turned to mush by their tbi + 1,000 years of suffocating grief and crushing guilt :)

ANYWAY thanks for making it to the bottom of this rant, here is a sketch I did a while ago of shamura + baby leshy from a prequel au thing I don't have a name for yet:

[pers1st]

let down - leah williamson x reader

pairing: barca!reader x leah williamson

warnings: barça being broke

In truth, you shouldn't be nervous.

This conversation had been going on for months - it was no secret that Barça had many financial problems, and paying you, Alexia and Aitana as their midfield would always have been difficult. You had had countless conversations like these before - negotiating your new contract, negotiating your new wage, which you knew would be significantly lower. It didn't bother you, though. You would've picked up a second job if it meant playing for your childhood club, even if they refused to pay you.

This setting, however, seemed a lot more official than it should've, in your opinion.

You were still dressed in your clothes from training, and so was Jona, but the rest of Barça's management was dressed properly - in suits and leather shoes. They shouldn't have even been there yet. This conversation was meant to simply verbalize your new contract, not to sign it yet. You were in no conditions to take the usual photos and sit in front of the camera for an interview after the contract extension. It confused you.

"Y/N, we are so sorry."

That was how Jona started, and in that particular moment, your heart stopped. No, this couldn't- they wouldn't dare-

"We can't renew your contract."

Silence followed. Then, your shaky voice. Barely above a whisper.

"What?"

This whole situation seemed too surreal to be true. Maybe in a few seconds, your eyes would open and you would find out that this was just a horrible dream. If it hadn't been for your manager's piercing gaze on you, you might've pinched yourself under the table.

"We don't have the financial means to pay you enough to stay. I know it's not what you want to hear, but-"

"No, Jona, we talked about this. You can cut my wage, I don't mind. I'll stay here, whatever it takes. Alexia said she would-"

But the man in front of you didn't let you finish.

"You are right, we talked about this. And I told you that you deserve more than what we can give you, and that you cannot let us undermine you. It's not fair to you, it's not fair to all the women who are-"

This time, you were the one to interrupt him.

"But this? This isn't fair to me!"

That was how the argument unfolded, and only after your voice was hoarse from crying and pleading, your cheeks stained with tears and your manager stained with guilt, did you leave the office to fall into Alexia's arms, who had been listening in from the other side of the door for God knew how long.

It was January currently, which meant that as soon as you silently agreed with them to sign you to whatever club payed the most, you were out.

Just like that, the chance to play in front of the Culers for one last time was ripped away from you. They received a half-hearted announcement via Instagram, you received twenty women in your apartment, ready to pack your things. In all honesty, you had wished for no one to see as you organized your life into moving boxes and shipped them over the sea for whoever from Arsenal to receive, mostly because it would've felt even less real. Mostly because then, the goodbye wouldn't have hit you as hard. Ona tried to offer you advice on how to get by in England, telling you all about her experience abroad. Mapi tried to lift the spirits by joking around. Ingrid held you as you allowed tears to fall, and Alexia made sure you didn't forget anything, offering to take care of the things you would leave behind in Barcelona.

It was only you and Alexia at the airport. Your best friend, since the day you had been selected to play for the senior team of Barcelona, had shared many angry words with the management, and at one point even threatened to leave if you really had to. But the papers were signed, and the boxes were packed, and there was nothing left to do for Alexia besides holding your shaky frame as tears clouded your vision for what felt like the millionth time.

"You'll be okay, bebita. You'll enjoy London, and then you'll come back. I promise, you'll come back."

The both of you knew that there was no way she could ever promise that - Barça's financial difficulties were far too severe to sign you back soon - the most expensive player in the world, currently. When, or if the smoke would clear up, neither of you could know. Still, her words soothed you the tiniest as you held onto the glimpse of hope your best friend gave you as if it was a lifeline.

"Enjoy London, okay?"

You nodded, although you knew that you wouldn't. What good was London compared to Barcelona? What good was the capital of England compared to your lifelong home?

"Vamos, carino", Alexia huffed as she let go of you, gently pushing you towards your gate.

"Call me, okay? ¡Te amo!", she yelled after you as you turned away from her, and the hurt in her voice made a new layer of tears stream down on your cheeks, but you knew that if you looked back at her now, you would never board that plane. If leaving to England was what it took for your club to keep functioning, you would. If playing for Arsenal meant that you would be back in blaugrana one day, you would wear that ugly red shirt and call yourself a Gunner. You wouldn't do it happily, though.

London looked ugly when you flew over it, and London looked ugly when you landed in Heathrow Airport. You had expected people from the club to be there to pick you up, wearing Arsenal clothes and a sign with your name on it. It was apparently standard procedure, as Alexia had told you, though neither of you could really know because neither of you had never left the country to play football if it wasn't with the Spanish national team. What you hadn't expected, however, was Laia waving at you excitedly from across the hall, with two women dressed in the same hoodie as her, one significantly smaller (you guessed she was Kim) and one Leah Williamson.

You had never followed English football much, likely why you hadn't recognized Kim when you'd first searched up your new team on the internet, but Leah was the kind of footballer everyone was just.. aware of.

Admittedly, she was even prettier in real life.

"¡Hola, guapa!", Laia shrieked as you strolled over to your new teammates (the word 'teammate' along with 'new' still left a bitter taste in your mouth), dragging your suitcase behind you tiredly. The plain ride had worn you out - in all honesty, the entire past week had worn you out. Ever since you'd been told that you would leave the club that you had bled for, you hadn't been able to close half an eye.

Still, Laia's excitement was unmatched as she pulled you into a tight hug, allowing your face to sag against her shoulder. You didn't allow yourself to cry anymore, and so you could see Leah and Kim smile at you softly from a few steps behind the other Spanish woman without tears clouding your vision.

Laia continued to speak in Spanish, asking you about the flight, about how the Barça girls were, about how excited she was that you were finally here and she wasn't the only Spaniard at the Arsenal.

If Kim and Leah thought it was rude that they were left out of the conversation entirely, they didn't say so. Still, you pushed Laia off gently, mustering the smallest of smiles you could.

"Hello."

Your English wasn't very good, but even you winced ever so slightly at the realization of how truly cold you sounded. You didn't want to be here, didn't want any of them to show you your new apartment, didn't want them to show you the club, to bring you to training, to give you a red jersey and call you a Gunner.

But you needed to suck it up. Life wasn't fair. And if Alexia's words held any truth, this would merely be a temporal situation.

"Hey", Kim smiled at you. Her English sounded funny, but her smile was more genuine than yours as she introduced herself and Leah. You hadn't needed her to, but it was a nice gesture anyways.

"It's good to have you here", Leah smiled as she gently lay her arm across your shoulder.

"Wanna see your new flat?", you nodded as Leah guided you out of the hall, your luggage left with Laia who strolled behind you alongside Kim.

Leah's confidence and her proximity to you, your side pressed against hers, was making your head spin ever so slightly. You had, admittedly, hoped that Leah, as co-captain and being about to return to the pitch, would understand how badly you didn't want to be at Arsenal, seeing as she bled for the club the way you did for Barcelona. Maybe she could grasp the idea of being forced out of her home, and sympathize with you in the slightest. And it seemed she did, as she pointed towards what you guessed was Kim's car, leaving you and Laia in the backseats as you drove through the city. London was different from Barcelona.

It was slightly less ugly now, with impressive buildings and a few bits of nature sprawled around as Kim maneuvered the car through the streets. It was cold, though, and as you were shivering slightly, Kim put the heat just a bit higher. It was grey, as well. Not a single ray of sunshine was able to break through the barrier of clouds in the sky, and it reminded you a lot of your current mood, though you were hesitant to show it.

Leah and Kim seemed genuine in their efforts to make this transition as easy for you as possible, given the fact that your apprehension to leave Barcelona was a very well known fact. You had dedicated an Instagram post with a very heartfelt caption to your departure, which made it very clear that you did not leave on your own accord.

Their dedication to welcome you, though, made you feel the tiniest bit of unfair. The women were genuinely trying, and they promised you during the car ride, when asking whether or not you were nervous, that the whole team was excited to meet you. Maybe you could try a little bit. Maybe you could enjoy this for the time being.

"Here we are."

You could see Kim's smile through the rearview mirror as she parked her car in front of an old building which you guessed was your new apartment complex. The car had left the central of London around twenty minutes ago, and at your confused expression, Laia had huffed that the club was in North London, not Central London.

"¿Es un poco feo, no?", (It's a bit ugly) you asked Laia as you stared at the shabby building. The walls were grey, and the parking lot was grey, and it seemed like everything in London was just.. grey. Plain.

"¡No, Y/N! Leah vida aquí también", (Leah lives here too) Laia huffed at your comment, shaking her head while chuckling at your statement. You shrugged, ignoring the way Leah and Kim furrowed their brows at your Spanish conversation while climbing out of your seat to retrieve your luggage.

You insisted on carrying your suitcase up the small flight of stairs as well, though Laia offered to do it for you. The two of you hadn't been super close when she'd still played at Barcelona, but you had been quite good friends, and having at least one familiar face soothed you.

"This is it", Leah smiled softly as the four of you stepped into the hallway, following your curious steps into the flat. It was plain as well, of course it was. For the first time since calming down on the plane, you had to fight tears again. The flat was nice, sure. The club had organized a quite spacious place, with lots of room and comfortable-looking furniture. But it was bare. You knew that shopping for furniture would be a hassle in the middle of the season, so you had rented it furnitured.

You missed your green couch, the thrifted, quite antique sideboard, the golden-framed mirror. You missed the framed shirts on your wall, the clothing rack with all of the shirts you had swapped with other players. All of those things were now packed away in a storage room somewhere in Barcelona. You missed Barcelona.

"Es pretty", you mumbled, dropping your keys on the white coffee table and turning around to look at Leah, who was still holding on to your large bag, the Barcelona badge imprinted on it. The look she gave you, eyebrows slightly raised, eyes looking somewhat defeated, told you that you hadn't been able to fool her.

Laia and Kim left quickly, with the excuse of having early training tomorrow and needing to run whatever errands, but Leah stayed.

"I live in the same building, so I could help you unpack if you want?"

In truth, you didn't want her to help. You didn't want her to swoop through your things, eyeing all of your personal belongings, all of the tokens of your previous home that you had left so promptly, but you didn't have the heart to tell her no. So, the two of you got to work, after a small tour through the whole unit, finding the bedroom, the bathroom and another room that you guessed you would use for storage. Your kitchen was small, after all, and it was filled with things you didn't know how to use.

"What's this?", you asked as you held up a scoop of some sort, that you had found while rummaging through your cupboards.

"It's a tea scoop, for making loose tea", Leah explained with a chuckle, taking the utensil from your hand to showcase how one scoops.

"I don't drink tea", you huffed, taking the scoop back and shoving it into the back of the cupboard before closing it a little harsher than you would have expected.

"You're in England now, you're gonna drink tea."

You decided to ignore her comment, instead opening the next drawer.

"I have a microwave", you pointed out, moving slightly to the side so that Leah could look. She was awfully close to you again, and it made you nervous.

"So you can make paellas", Leah snickered, nudging her hips against yours playfully. At that, you turned towards her, taking a shocked step back.

"Joder, you don't microwave paellas! What is wrong with you? Mujer loca", (crazy woman) you exclaimed, nudging her back playfully before diving into the next cupboard. Maybe London wouldn't be as horrible as you thought.

notes: this is baaaaad honestly but we move

[sitaraa--writes]

Hey 😊 would you do a Damon Salvatore imagine where you’re dating but then you leave the house after a fight with him and get in a bad car crash. He feels this and searches for you, just to find you I’m time to save your life. Then he stays by your side, feeling guilty and when you wake up again he’s there taking care of you, apologizes and promises to never let any harm happen to you again? Just some lovely fluff and a bit angsty. Thank you so much 😊

Apology

Summary: Your boyfriend Damon has been acting very possessive and controlling and you get into a huge fight with him. You go out for a drive to clear your head but end up in an accident instead. Damon finds you and takes you home, making up for everything he had done.

ANGST, fluff

Damon being controlling, car crash, reader having a near-death experience

1.5K

A/N: Thank you @imagine-all-the-fandoms for being my first request! I'm so sorry it took forever (this is horrible). Do let me know if this is satisfactory. Happy reading!

Damon Salvatore X Human!Fem!Reader

Dividers by @saradika-graphics

Your boyfriend of two years, Damon, was recently being very controlling and possessive. He started making your decisions for you without bothering to consult you, being unreasonably jealous of any male around you and demanding to be with you at all times, not understanding the healthy concept of giving 'space'.

But this time, it ran deep. He compelled your childhood best friend, Jake, to leave town and forget all about you. You caught him in nick of time otherwise you would've never even known about what happened to him!

Deeply hurt and driven mad with rage, you left the Boarding House for a drive after a few broken objects, wounding words and a heavy heart.

You didn't know how, perhaps you weren't in your right senses, you couldn't hit the brakes and crashed right into a tree. The car flipped over, and your arms twisted at an odd angle. Your limp and now-sore body was fastened with the seat belt, and you couldn't undo it. You were hit badly in the back of your head, and you could feel unbearable burn of a deep gash.

Your senses had perked up under the stillness of the night, and you heard a faint trickle. Then wetness across your back, your head, soon trickling down to your neck. It was a strange fluid --- coppery metallic smell, thick and red with a mud-brownish tinge. It was oddly enticing and familiar. A shiver ran down your spine when you realised it was your blood. Blood, so much blood --- your own. You were losing so much blood, and you could do nothing to stop it. You felt faint and suddenly, the hardest thing in the world was staying conscious.

You were terrified. If you were going to die, then it mustn't be like this. An accident. Your whole life snatched away just because of a mistake. God, you had so many things to do in life. Get a job, travel the world, adopt a cat --- ordinary things but they were your dreams, which now lay shattered. You didn't want your life --- and death --- so unremarkable and ordinary. And while all this time, there was a deep wound of regret in your heart --- perhaps greater than the gash on your head --- to part with Damon.

Sure, he could be such an asshole at times, but you knew that he loves you with all his heart. You didn't want your last words to him be an angry "I hate you". You had never really thought about it, what would be your last words to him. You couldn't breathe at the sheer grief that hit you at the moment. Unable to withstand the blow, you closed your eyes, succumbing to a world of endless darkness, getting lost in your way towards the blue-eyed vampire. And you couldn't do a damn thing about it...

Anger and frustration clouded Damon's mind. It was all hazy, and he was searching for a light. Ah, there it is! Remorse, regret, fear of having losing her. He knew what he did was wrong, but why couldn't she understand? He loved her so damn much, everything he did was tp protect her.

She lived her constant danger because he loved her, and he knew at times that he should let her go, but he couldn't. He needed her to function, she was his damn sanity, and without her, he lost it.

Suddenly, there was this intense urge to go find her, not to waste a single moment. He'll do anything to have her back, she can't leave him. He knew he was unreasonable, ill-tempered and sometimes too controlling, but he couldn't help himself.

He got behind the steering wheel and let his heart lead the way, for it was with her where it truly lay.

He was aghast, devastated, even. Finding her like this, so near to death, he suddenly came to his senses. He was crying, he realised. He never cried. But that's what she does to him --- make him into someone he never thought he could be.

"Y/N, no! No, no, no!" he wailed, feeling utterly helpless. He undid your seatbelt and somehow pulled you out of the overturned car. Without wasting a moment, he bit into his wrist and forced his blood into your mouth.

You drank for a moment then turned away, trying to sit up but immediately fell back and the sheer exhaustion and soreness you felt.

He was here. He was here, you realised.

"Oh Damon, I'm so sorry!" you sobbed into his chest. He wrapped his arms tightly around you and you knew he was crying into your shoulder.

You simply let things just be. In that dark night, the feeling of death heavy around you, the two of you embraced a new life. Of promises of forever, of understanding, of accepting --- and it was beautiful.

After what seemed like an eternity, he composed himself, giving you some strength, too. "Let's get you home, yeah?" he whispered and you nodded. He lifted you bridal style in his arms and helped you into his car. You leaned on him, as much as you could and he kissed the top of your head. "I'm so, so sorry..." he began but your shook your head. He understood. Not now.

You drove to the Boarding House in companionable silence. The silence was golden. The silence spoke it all. And all you needed was the silence.

With his help you went inside. The house that was so familiar --- it looked the same --- but it promised something different.

"You don't know how scared I was today," he whispered as he rubbed your feet.

"Me too... I didn't want to die like that. Not without saying goodbye, though I wonder if I ever will be able to say it-" he silenced you with a kiss. "I won't let anything happen to you. I want you all for myself, I know that's selfish. I am prick and I don't deserve you, but I do love you very much, so much that it's frustrating, and I won't be able to live with myself if something happens to you. I know I make bad decisions, I know I react impulsively, but I do it only for you. I am sorry for today. I had no reason to compel Jake, but I did it anyway because I was insecure. I realised my mistake, I have no reason to be. So, if you have it in you, please forgive me...". Tears were streaming down his face.

You wiped them away and hugged him close.

"I'm hungry," you said, trying to lighten up the atmosphere. It made him laugh. "Pasta?"

"Yes!"

[mynahx3]

Your Own Prison 7K

Hellooo lovelies!~~~ I bring a Yandere! Illumi x Reader. I hope you enjoy!!! Warning!!!! 18 and up!!!! This DARK story contains DARK subjects of kidnapping/ implied past noncon/ dubcon/ forced relationships/ forced pregnancy Please proceed with caution!! If you don't like, don't read. Not proofread yet.

~~~~~~~~

The day Illumi met you, he was out on a normal mission to gather information for his client.

The rain was merciless and came down hard on your town. It was something he would have to endure. Illumi would normally not care, being used to the harsh weather where he grew up, but today he had a job to do.

It was a simple one that paid surprisingly well.

The wife had discovered her husband having an affair with the secretary, so she launched a hit against the small-town banker. He followed the target until he went into a building, easily keeping track of him in the windows. 

Normally, he would just slip in and finish the job with an easy in-and-out stab of the knife when the target was least expecting it, but the client requested to get the job done in a more discreet manner. One that resembled an accident or natural cause of death. He decided to wait for the perfect opportunity to make it look like the banker's death was simply a tragic accident.

With his years of experience, he was confident he could adapt and complete the job with precision.

For now, Illumi decided he would wait for an opening. He was content with the view he had while also remaining inconspicuous. He just looked like another passenger waiting for the bus in the busy streets.

A few more minutes passed, and a bus arrived at the stop. Illumi almost didn’t notice you standing next to him; the crowd of people walking off the bus didn’t help. It was only when you two were alone did he notice you, looking at you with a calculating gaze. He quickly assessed you, trying to determine if you were a potential threat or just another innocent bystander.

You appeared to be around his age, maybe a little older or younger; it was hard to tell. Dressed in mainly black attire with a worn gray coat. The rain boots you had on were a dark red. Your lips moved; you seemed to be trying to tell him something.

The stoic assassin's face became annoyed as he raised his eyebrow and lifted his hand to his ear, indicating that he couldn't hear you.

The busy city streets drowned out your voice, making conversation difficult. The rain didn't help either, hammering hard against the metal roof above you both. You approached him with a concerned expression on your face. Brows furrowed, and lips parted.

When he got a closer look at you, he realized you weren't horrible looking. It was a thought that vanished as swiftly as it appeared, still irritated by being interrupted.

"That was the last bus for awhile." You said, wincing a little as you pointed to the schedule next to him.

He glanced at the schedule to you, then back to his target, who appeared to be going down the elevator. The stoic expression back on his face.

"I am aware."

The tension between you both was awkward; you shuffled on your feet, looking around sheepishly. He didn't bother looking back at you, thinking the conversation was over.

"If you're cold, my store is over there. You're welcome to wait until the next bus arrives," you offered, trying to diffuse the tension.

Your finger pointed to a corner store not too far from here. The lights flashed in the rain, illuminating the wet pavement as you waited for his response. It looked a bit older than the other establishments in the area. Faded signs were taped on the windows, advertising discounts on various items.

Illumi simply remained silent, unwilling to speak with you any further. His gaze shifted ahead, resuming what he was doing before you interrupted. The rain continued to fall, making the situation more uncomfortable.

You would shortly leave, he assumed.

Proving him wrong, he heard you open one of your bags; the shuffling of wrappers and the sound of you pulling out a small package piqued his ears. Curious, Illumi finally glanced down at what you held; it was a small rectangle, no bigger than the palm of your hand. Looking at him with a tense smile, you held it out towards him, nudging it closer to him when he didn't take it.

"It's a hand warmer!" You informed him with a wider smile. "If you don't want to come in, take this."

Illumi's expression softened slightly as he reached out to accept the hand warmer, a rare gesture of gratitude for him. He titled his head as he picked it up with the tips of his fingers, examining the item with a hint of interest.

"Thank you," he murmured with a questioning tone, holding it in his hand. He wasn't expecting that.

You nod, looking happy that he took it from you, pulling out an umbrella from your bag now.

"I hope it helps keep you warm," you replied before turning to leave him. "If you need more, we sell a few items that could help in this weather, including hand warmers and umbrellas. On sale this week!" you added with a cheeky smile over your shoulder.

With that, you left, stepping into the rain with your umbrella up. Not thinking anything of the interaction with the stranger. His eyes followed you as you walked away; a small feeling stirred inside of him that he had never felt before. The small act of kindness left a lasting impact on him.

It was something you'd live to regret.

~~~~~~~~

Arguing was heard around you as you lay on the floor. You didn't recognize the voices; one was a woman and two other men. You didn't know why this was happening.

You just wanted to go home.

A blindfold was tied tightly over your eyes, now wet from your tears. Wrists tied together behind you as well as your ankles, leaving you no hope for escape. Mouth gagged with your own scarf, not helping the panic rising in your chest. You were roughly dropped onto the floor after being taken from a car, the tile pressing into your cheek as you tried to make sense of the situation. The cries you made were not bothering the people in the room who continued arguing.

"Why on Earth would you pick this girl?" The woman asked angrily; the shrillness of her voice made your ears hurt. "You have so many offers to pick from, why her?"

"It is none of your concern who I pick, Mother. Father said it was fine as long as I didn't forsake my responsibilities." The man's response was cold and dismissive, causing the woman to huff in frustration. Footsteps were heard coming closer to you, making you tense up in fear.

Gentle hands helped you to sit on your knees, making you jolt in surprise. You could feel the weight of their gaze on you, making your skin crawl with unease. You felt goosebumps grow along your arms, and your shaking intensified. It didn't help you had been taken in your sleep, so you only had on an old t shirt and shorts.

Suddenly, there was an overwhelming brightness as someone took off the blindfold. You squinted your eyes in response, adjusting to being able to see for the first time in a few hours.

In front of you was a man with pale skin, dark eyes, and short, black hair. You could only stare at him in shock and confusion. His piercing gaze seemed to burrow into your soul, sending shivers down your spine. The man's expression was inscrutable, heightening your sensation of dread.

"Welcome home, dear wife."

That would be the start of your new life.

~~~~~~~~

“This is something my little brother can withstand; no problem. We need to build your resilience, dear."

Illumi stood over you in the basement. His monotone voice grated your ears as he demeaned you. Empty eyes looking at your weak form crying on the stone floors. His pale hands soaked with your blood as he wiped them clean with a towel.

He acted so casual, as if it were just something as simple as dirt, not human blood. 

Shaking in pain from what he did to you, you lay in a fetal position. For hours on end, he hurt you as you were chained to the ceiling by your wrists. Hard red welts on your wrists were proof of the cuffs digging into your flesh. Your body was covered in bruises and cuts, blood soaked into your clothes. 

Another punishment for trying to escape but it was always futile.

Kukuroo Mountain was vast with unforgiving terrain. Littered with traps to keep anyone out, which also worked perfectly in keeping people in. To your credit, you did manage to evade the highly trained butlers and Illumi for two days. It was the farthest you had ever gotten in your attempts to escape. But now, as you lay broken and defeated, the reality of your situation set in: there was no way out.

These sessions with Illumi only brought you pain and suffering. He was determined to get you to give in. For you to become his sweet wife and meld into his family—like he didn’t kidnap you from your home months prior.

Forcing his way into your life despite only having just met him. Taking anything he wanted from you with no remorse.

With weak arms, you tried to pick yourself off the ground, vision filled with black dots. Stubbornly, you glared up at him. He loved the fire in your eyes; he simply didn't like it when it was aimed at the wrong things. He didn't understand why you were fighting so hard against him. Your determination could have been utilized for more important things, like helping the family, but you had to oppose him.

A blank expression was on his face as he looked at you sit up; a part of him was surprised by that. You had cuts along your arms and legs with a few broken ribs, yet you still had that look of defiance. Seeing you this way only affirmed his feelings.

He knew you were simply meant to be. Yes, your body was weak, but your mind was strong.

Crouching to your level, he looked at you; his cold hand caressed your tangled hair with a gentleness that always shocked you. Illumi was a surprisingly doting man. After your punishments, he made sure to coddle you as you healed.

Kissing your wounds, whispering into your ear, treating you softer than ever before. Over the last few months, you felt your resolve dwindling. You let yourself lean into his touch as it cupped your throbbing cheek, eyes closed as you tried to block out the pain. For just a moment, you felt his touch bring you comfort.

Snapping out of it, you turned away from him, wretching yourself from his hold. You spat in his face, with some of your blood mingled in. He wiped the wetness from his face calmly before saying in a low, frightening tone.

"You will regret that."

His eyes darkened with rage as he looked at the mess on his fingers, and his short, dark hair fell around his face, giving him a more terrifying appearance. Knowing your disobedience would only make matters worse, you prepared yourself for what was about to happen.

"Go to fucking hell."

~~~~~~~~

You awake with a start, jolting up from the plush, silken sheets. Illumi clung to your side like always, his eyes opening immediately at your movement. The nightmare, more like a memory, had made your skin clammy, and sweat dripped down your forehead. As you tried to calm your racing heart, you couldn't shake the feeling of fear that was felt in your bones. Illumi's head tilted at the sight of your distress, prompting him to sit up.

"You're shaking." His voice was soft, a stark contrast to the harshness of your nightmare. "Another dream?"

You nodded, looking at your lap, not replying much to him as he hummed. Moving your gaze to his with a firm grip on your chin, he brushed a strand of hair away from your face, his gaze devoid of emotion. His eyes lingered on yours for a moment before looking away, a flicker of concern crossing his face before he masked it with his usual stoicism.

"The doctor said you needed to rest. You're not doing that, and it's starting to show." He sighed, reaching out to gently tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear.

"I know, I know." You dismissed him, leaning into his touch as he caressed your cheekbone.

His touch was both comforting and unsettling, a reminder of his dual nature. Despite the concern in his eyes, you couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his motives than he let on.

"I'm here for you." He leaned in, kissing you gently before it went further. You closed your eyes, trying to calm your heart, but his words only seemed to worsen your anxiety.

"Illumi." You tried to protest, hands going to his chest, but you put no strength in them. You stopped fighting him a long time ago, now trying to barter instead. "It's late."

"I know you're worried," he whispered, his voice soft and soothing. "But I only want to help you through this."

The kiss continued for a while longer; he didn't seem to mind your slow movements. He pushed you back onto the bed, squeezing your shoulders. His lips sealed with yours, hard and demanding. Pressing his body against yours and wrapping your legs around him, he caged you in with arms on both sides of your head. The intensity of his look conveyed that he was entirely focused on you at that moment.

"I'm here." He repeated. A hand moves to caress your face again. You felt a rush of emotions in your heart as he added, "I'll always be here for you."

It didn't seem to convey the message he wanted; he was never one to be good with words. His hand moved down to clasp around your throat, not putting any pressure on you. It was a hold that conveyed his possession and control over you.

Tears silently went down your face as you looked up at him, feeling overwhelmed. Your heart was conflicted by the mix of fear and comfort that his touch brought. You wanted to fight back, to run, but you were rooted in place. Knowing what would happen if you fought back.

You have been realizing, too, that there was a tiny, tiny part of you that craved his touch.

Regardless of how much you denied it, you could feel yourself starting to care for him. The defeat in your eyes seemed to make him happy, clear from the small smirk on his lips.

"You're never leaving me, and I know you're starting to accept that," he whispered, his grip tightening, making your breath halt.

Leaning down again, he captures your lips, furthering the passion he felt. He wanted to show the extent of his love for you in more than just words. His hands begin to trail along your body in possession. Feeling and gripping at your soft flesh. It was different from the hardened, trained muscles of his. A good difference to him.

The kisses became more frenzied and hungry, his teeth knashing against your bottom lip. You didn't know whose blood you tasted on your tongue. He always seemed to lose control in moments like this, leaving you breathless and spiraling. His touch was both gentle and possessive, sending shivers down your spine.

As he deepened the kiss, you couldn't help but reciprocate with equal fervor, completely surrendering to the moment. He seemed pleased as you wrapped your arms around his neck, and his movements slowed. His lips lingered on yours, savoring the sensation of heat between you and the feeling of your tongue move against his.

Everything happened so fast; he was always the eager man when it came to you.

Without further warning, you felt him hike your nightgown up, pulling his boxers down shortly after. His hand spread your thighs more apart with ease, the head of his cock rubbing up against your wet entrance a couple times before he pushed in. As he entered you, you had to arch your back against him. You were pressed chest to chest as he pushed deeper and deeper until he was fully inside you, filling you completely.

Even though it was only a sting, the pain that followed was nonetheless unpleasant.

A whimper escaped your lips as he peppered kisses down your neck in an attempt to distract you. Your nails dug into the skin on his back, legs locking around his slim waist, pulling him closer as you tried to focus on the pleasure mingling in.

The release between your legs from earlier did help, but it wasn't enough to completely mask the pain. No matter how many times he took you, it was always on the edge of discomfort, a fine line between pleasure and pain that you both danced along.

"Breathe." He reminded, his voice low and soothing. His touch was gentle, reassuring, and soon the pain was nothing more than a distant memory.

Opening your eyes, you saw him over you, his inky hair falling in disarray around him. If it wasn't for the slight flush on his cheeks and mused hair, you would never think he felt anything other than calm control. His eyes, however, betrayed a hint of desire that mirrored your own growing need for more of his touch.

He stayed in place as you adjusted to him. Passing the time by tracing circles on your hip, the other moving up and down your spine in a soothing motion. Short gasps emerged from your mouth as your face contorted in a mixture of pleasure and discomfort. Your breathing began to steady, the initial pain fading as you relaxed into the moment. Your body became more plaint under him, your insides clenched around him in a delicious ache of anticipation.

Illumi began to slowly rock into you, his hips meeting yours with a steady rhythm. His movements were deliberate and controlled, his touch both soothing and intense. As the initial sting began to fade, a wave of pleasure started to build within you, blending with the lingering pain in a bittersweet symphony.

Your body responded eagerly to his touch, surrendering to the conflicting sensations that he expertly knew how to bring. Seeing this, Illumi began to move faster. Eager to push you to the brink of ecstasy and beyond, his movements are becoming more urgent and intense.

Grunts escaped his lips so quietly that you would have missed them if he hadn't been so close. The room filled with the sound of your combined breaths, and the feeling of his body pressed against yours intensified. Each movement brought you closer to the edge, aching for release as you both lost yourselves in the moment.

"Illumi!" You cried into his ear, hand pulling at his soft hair. Hips moving against his in sync. "Illumi, please don't stop."

This only furthered his own desire, and he responded by increasing the pace and pressure of his movements, pushing you both towards the peak of ecstasy. The tension is building up within the both of you with each movement, the sensations overwhelming your senses as you reached the brink of pleasure.

Moaning loudly, you felt yourself close to unraveling but not quite there.

Continuing his thrusts, Illumi moved his hand between you, flicking at your clit roughly with his thumb. The added stimulation sent you over the edge, your body shuddering as you finally reached that peak of pleasure. Gasping for breath, you clung to him. He followed shortly after with a stuttering of his hips, his release painting your insides as he groaned in satisfaction. In the aftermath, the both of you panted for air. Sweat coated both of your bodies as you lay tangled together, basking in the afterglow.

Making sure to keep his seed plugged inside, he leaned back from you. His hand that gripped at your thigh traveled up to your stomach, where it rested. Dark eyes looked at you, filled with a mix of satisfaction and longing.

"You will never be without me," he whispered, his voice husky. "I will always be a part of you, in every way possible."

~~~~~~~~

"Caladen, Illyrio. Explain yourselves."

You sat in your usual chair at the table, with your daughter on your lap and your two boys in front of you. Each looking guilty, never being one to hide from the judgment of their mother. Your daughter, Sylvia, was unconcerned, knawing on the fabric of your dress despite your efforts to persuade her to stop.

At just five years old, the two boys bore a striking resemblance to their father, and as they grew older, they undoubtedly continued to do so. Dark eyes that stared into the soul and pale skin that seemed to glow in the moonlight. The only semblance of you in them was how they acted. One, stubborn as all hell that rebeled all chances he had, and the other, more obedient, an observer with a silver tongue.

Illyrio spoke first, his voice steady and confident, while Caladen remained silent, a slight frown on his face. The broken pot was behind them, proof of their misdeeds, and was being cleaned up by a butler. It was only on the ground for a couple seconds before it was swept away. Looking like nothing had happened at all.

"We were just practicing, mama."

Seeing the looks on their faces, you almost felt yourself give in to their innocent facade, but you knew better than to be fooled by their charm. It was only a matter of time before they were up to no good again. That mischievous streak was all their own.

"What it looks like you were doing," you start, staying stern with a frown. "Was messing around despite being told to stop playing so roughly in the house, especially our dining room. I expect you both to behave, you know better."

The children exchanged guilty glances, realizing they had been caught red-handed once again.

"Yes, mama."

Their heads hung low as they mumbled their response, knowing that their mischievous behavior had consequences. You couldn't help but feel a mix of frustration and affection for your children. They were only children, but being a child of the Zoldyck family was no easy feat.

In your thoughts, you don't notice the arrival of your husband until he lays a hand on your shoulder. The action made you look up at him, smiling softly at him.

"Go train with your grandmother today." He said, not bothering to look their way as he leaned over you, a blank expression on his face. Voice is still plain as always. "You will need to be punished, so do tell her what you did."

This made your frown deepen; you didn't want them to be punished so harshly. The boys left the dining room without another word. They had always respected and obeyed their father.

As you watched them go, you couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt for what they were about to endure. Kikyo's training was notoriously brutal. They were unforgiving and left lasting scars, you knew from experience. For a moment, they looked like normal kids, laughing together as they ran down the hall. Their assigned butlers were following right behind them.

Your focus was drawn back to Illumi, who had taken your daughter from you. The baby giggled in his arms; chubby fingers immediately began pulling at his long hair. Her blue eyes looked at her father with interest, white hair framing her face in short curls.

She was an innocent, pure child, but you knew that Illumi would raise her to be just as ruthless as he was. The thought made your heart ache, but you had no choice but to watch from afar.

All of your children were Zoldycks; it was their birthright and destiny to be trained as assassins.

"How is little Sylvia this morning?" Illumi asked, sitting next to you at the dining table. She bore a striking resemblance to her grandfather, which her family valued. You knew that Sylvia's future was already set in stone from that alone, and there was nothing you could do to change it.

You couldn't help but feel a pang of sadness as you replied, "She's doing well, as always."

He nodded, a glimmer of pride in his eyes, and returned his attention to his food. Sylvia proceeded to play with the pins on his vest as he fed her.

Illumi began to talk about the typical topics. How he had dealt with his most recent target, upcoming missions, the training regiment that the boys would follow, and the time you were permitted to spend with them.

Every week, you were given an entire day to spend with your children. It was a time you were thankful for. Considering the demands of their training and missions, every hour you could spend with them was valuable.

He had noticed you weren't exactly paying attention to him, only humming in response to his words with no real engagement. Saying your name fixed the problem; your shoulders straightened, and you made eye contact.

"Your mind seems to be elsewhere, dear."

"Just thinking about the boys. Their training is getting more intense." You answered honestly, your hand reaching out to wipe your daughter's mouth of drool with your napkin.

You were often concerned about your boys. They carried a lot of responsibility being the oldest of your children and the first grandchildren.

After you cleaned up your daughter, you gave him that same soft smile you have grown accustomed to giving him. Though it seemed forced at times, he thought he'd never see those loving eyes staring at him. Still, Illumi could tell that wasn't the only thing occupying your mind.

His frigid fingers reached out and moved some hair from your face, catching you by surprise. He wasn't one to be affectionate outside of the bedroom.

The fatigue on your face was more visible in the light.

He had kept you on a strict schedule and diet since your arrival years ago, but he couldn't ignore the signs of weariness sneaking in. You hadn't been sleeping well lately, your appetite had diminished, and you weren't as positive. With the recent birth of your daughter only a few months prior, he knew it was time for a change. Something to cheer you up from the mood you were in.

"I plan to take you and the children to the village soon." He said suddenly, not reacting to the shocked look on your face, busy getting his slobber covered pin from the strong hands of his daughter.

It had been years since you left the mountain; it had been your home—prison—for the last few years. As evidenced by how much his hair had grown, now reaching his lower back from the short style he had when you two first met. Illumi had been adamant to keep your contact to only himself, his family, and the help of the mansion.

"Is it for a mission?" You asked, trying to gauge his intentions, an eyebrow raised in suspicion, sipping on the teacup in hand.

"No, it's not for a mission," he replied smoothly, handing Sylvia over to you once your hands were free. "There is a festival happening that I think the twins will enjoy. I will inform the butlers to pack."

Without saying anything else, he leaned down to kiss your daughter's head and gave you a quick peck on the lips before heading towards the door, leaving you to wonder about his sudden change of heart.

Watching him go, you still had the frown on your face. You couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to his decision than he let on. While you watched him disappear down the hallway, a sinking feeling formed in your gut. You couldn't help but wonder what prompted this surprising act.

It was a thought that left quickly as your lovely daughter spit up all over the front of your dress to your dismay.

~~~~~~~~

The festival was a celebration that was known for its lively atmosphere and colorful decorations.

Ahead of you, the boys looked at the passing floats with an awestruck expression. They had run off without a care in the world, eager to explore all the festivities the festival had to offer.

You were tempted to yell after them, your heart thrumming at the sight of them so far. At first, the crowd didn't help your anxiety. But as you saw the smiles on your children's faces, you began to relax and enjoy the festivities. The music, food, and laughter surrounding you made it easy to forget about your worries for a while.

Still, you were not completely at ease.

It was something you weren't hiding well, gripping the stroller so tightly, your knuckles turning white. You took a deep breath, reminding yourself to trust that your children were safe and having a great time. Their butlers were sure to stay by them, and they had their parents.

Illumi was walking next to you, idly looking at the different stalls with disinterest. It was admittedly weird to see him in public with civilians. As you continued to navigate through the bustling crowd, you couldn't shake off the feeling of unease that lingered in the back of your mind. Despite the festive atmosphere, a sense of apprehension still gnawed at you. It was a struggle to stay present and enjoy the moment after being kept in the mountain for so long. Seeing your thoughts racing, Illumi's hand reaches out for yours, his eyes communicating his thoughts well enough.

"Just a lot of people." You said, squeezing his hand back as you both walked.

"We can go somewhere for a moment." He suggested, waving a butler over to the both of you.

Without asking your opinion, he took you by the hand to a bench not too far but far enough to offer some privacy from the bustling crowd. The butler had taken Sylvia with no objections, leaving you and Illumi alone to finally have a moment of peace. Sitting down, you immediately felt relieved.

Awkwardly, he kept his eyes on you the entire time, unblinking.

He often likes to just watch, not saying anything. Countless times you woke up to the sight of him standing over you in your shared room. His gaze was intense, almost unsettling, but you found comfort in his presence nonetheless after the years. Illumi's silent companionship was something you had grown accustomed to, even if it still sent shivers down your spine at times.

"You know, it's nice to see them like this." You said, breaking the silence. "So… normal."

The boys were both leaning over the stroller, showing their softer sides as they cooed and made faces at the baby. They both turned to you, smiling, their eyes filled with genuine affection for the little one. Much like the rest of the family, that little girl had them wrapped around her finger. Illumi studied them alongside you, his hand now resting on your thigh as he scooted closer.

"Do not get attached to the sight. It will not last. We will only be in town for a couple nights."

His words served as a reminder of the impermanence of the moment, but you chose to savor it nonetheless. Illumi's gaze flickered to you briefly before returning to the children, his expression unreadable as always.

"Enjoy it while it lasts," he replied, standing up as he looked down at you, hand extended.

You simply took his hand, walking with him without another word.

~~~~~~~~

The night went by faster than you wanted. It was nice to see your family together.

A flicker of shock went through you at the thought, your hand faltered as you burped your daughter. The butler beside you wanted to, but you refused. You preferred to take care of them yourself.

You glanced over at Illumi across the park table, who was in conversation with the twins about types of assassinations. The night had been surprisingly pleasant, and you were grateful for the rare moment of peace. In your arms, Sylvia yawned, her tiny hands rubbing her eyes as a grumpy look was on her face. It was about time for bed.

"Lumi, I think we should head out. Sylvia is sleepy."

Instantly, the boys both looked disappointed, but Illumi nodded in agreement, standing up and motioning for the twins to follow.

"Can't we stay a little longer?" One boy asked, leaning forward to you.

"We haven't even ridden the carousel yet," the other twin chimed in, a hopeful look in his eyes. You smiled at their enthusiasm, thinking it over a bit as you gathered everything.

"Gotta see what your dad says."

With a sigh, you glanced at Illumi, who didn't seem too thrilled about the idea of staying longer. A moment of silence went by as he thought it over.

You stood next to him, tilting your head slightly in anticipation of his response. Finally, he nodded in agreement, surprising you and the twins.

"A hotel has been booked in preparation. You can head over with the butlers. I'll take them on a ride or two, but you both have to accompany me to the next mission."

Illumi looked at them as they cheered before at you. Leaning up, you kissed him on the cheek, a rare display of affection from you.

"Have fun!" You smiled at him with such glee, a look of pure happiness that made his heart swell with warmth.

Illumi looked surprised at that, his eyes slightly wider, and he held the cheek you had kissed.

~~~~~~~~

Checking into the hotel was an easy process. The butlers came with you, unpacking everything with ease and swiftness.

The suite was filled with everything you'd need for a weekend retreat. Two separate rooms, one for the kids and the other for you two, a living room connected to the kitchen, and a balcony with the view of the town.

Sylvia slept peacefully in her bassinet after being fed one more time and a bath.

Leaning over the railing, you watched the rise and fall of her chest.

Your children had become your whole world, their innocence and vulnerability a constant reminder of the love and responsibility you held in your heart. The first time you were pregnant, you hated the changes in your body and the loss of control. You had vowed to him you would hate them and that you didn't want them. They would be a daily reminder of what Illumi did to you, after all.

But the day you held them for the first time, all the resentment melted away, replaced with an overwhelming sense of protectiveness.

Feeling sleepy yourself, you rose from the uncomfortable position you were in. It had been time for you to get some much needed rest as well. Going into the master bedroom, you quickly stripped and showered. The butlers that guided you to the hotel had been in the living room, telling you to call for them if needed.

Oddly, they hadn't come to check on you like they usually did.

Sighing in relief, you stepped out of the bathroom. Now you were dressed in a simple nightgown that reached your midthigh. It was made of soft cotton with a delicate lace trim. You would prefer something more casual, but Illumi liked to see you in the finer things.

Idly, you had gone to the dresser, picking up the snack you had brought into the room with you. It was just a fresh abaripe, a blue fruit similar to an apple found in the area, with a small knife nearby for cutting it up. Humming in contentment at the taste of it, you continued to slice it up in your hand, deciding to watch a show before bed.

The sight you walked into made you freeze in shock, the fruit dropping from your hand. A man stood in the middle of the room, the light from the fireworks blazing behind him. You'd never seen him before, hence all the alarms set off in your head. You nearly screamed when you opened your mouth, hand gripping the knife harder, but the man instantly raised his hands, shushing you with urgency.

"I'm here to help." The man urged, taking a step forward as you took one back. "Your family hired me to find you."

You felt a mix of relief and confusion, unsure of whether to trust this stranger. Your eyes are keeping watch of him for any signs of deception or danger. After a few moments of tense silence, you finally lowered the knife and allowed him to speak more.

He explained the situation to you in a fast manner, clearly nervous at the same time. How your family had hired him to find you, how they had spent most of their money in this almost endless pursuit. He had even said he began to help out of the goodness of his heart after seeing them so desparate.

It had taken him years, but he finally found you.

Your heart only beat more, thoughts racing with the realization that your family had been searching for you for so long. You couldn't help but feel a mix of emotions—relief, guilt, and gratitude all at once.

Then, it was all overshadowed by one thing—fear.

Blood rushed into your ears, your chest moving to take panicked breaths. The very room seemed to shrink around you, walls closing in fast.

What would Illumi do to you if he found out?

No, no, no, no, no, you couldn't take more punishments. More bleeding. More torment. More pain.

It had taken years to get this point. The very thought of going back to their basement made you feel queasy, the food you had eaten earlier threatening to come back up. More anxiety filled you as you thought of the worst of things.

What about your children? You can't leave them.

His touch on your arm jolted you, bringing you back to reality. You could see he was sweating, scared in his own right. If he got caught, he was worse than dead.

You weren't much better, looking like a deer in headlights, as he began to pull you towards the balcony. Your feet only planted in place, trying to slow him down if not stop him completely. Your hand is trying to wretch his from around you. His grip is stronger than you would have expected, especially considering the amount of training the Zoldycks have made you endure to be one of them.

"N-no, what about my kids?" You pleaded; you felt your heart beat frantically in your chest. The urgency in his eyes was unmistakable, and you knew he was not going to wait for anyone. Your stomach turned with fear at the thought of leaving your children behind.

"We don't have time. The butlers are knocked out, but we have to move now."

"Let me at least get my girl!" You yelled, desparation in your voice as you panicked more and more. Your vision began to blur from the tears going down your eyes. Nails digging into his hand.

You can't leave them. You can't leave them. You can't leave them. You can't leave them. You can't leave them.

YOU CAN'T LEAVE THEM.

He didn't listen to you, pulling you harder across the room. It was only once his hand touched the doorknob to the balcony did you react.

You put the small but sharp knife into him faster than you could have imagined. You had done it mindlessly and, by chance, got him in the throat; you had almost forgotten it was in your hand.

He let go of you, looking at you in shock as you pulled the blade out. Blood spurted from the wound like a fountain.

It almost seemed as if time slowed down. His hand slowly went to hold his bleeding throat; his other hand weakly reached towards you. The shock and horror in his eyes were quickly replaced by a look of betrayal as he realized the extent of your actions. Without saying a word, you only reacted.

Again and again, and again and again.

You continued to stab him, even as he crumpled against the glass door. The knife may have been small, but it was sharp and deadly, each stab punctuating the air with a sickening sound. Adrenaline coursing through your veins dulled the screams that echoed in the room, leaving only the metallic scent of blood lingering in the air.

Blood coated everything by the time you were done. The moon shone a red glow into the room from the amount of blood on the window. It was now silent, other than blood dripping from the knife onto the floor, a haunting reminder of the gruesome act that had just taken place.

Soaked into the carpet below you, it began to pool around you both. The body of the man was long still, looking into nothing with dull eyes. His skin now has a gray hue to it, and his lips are a shade of blue.

Being this close, you could see how young he was. Babyfaced. Naive and inexperienced to this type of job.

The only movement in the room was the slow rise and fall of your chest as you sat there, staring at what you had done.

~~~~~~~~

Illumi should have noticed something was off sooner when he didn't see the butlers that were supposed to be with you.

He was a bit distracted as he walked into the suite, holding both of the sleeping boys with ease. The three of them had spent longer out, racking up stuffies they won at the scam games.

One in particular, Illumi had won for you. He had caught you staring at it for a bit earlier. It was an ugly, cheap thing with bug eyes, but something told him to get it for you.

The butler put the bag of goodies on the counter before taking the twins from Illumi to get them into bed.

Illumi silently began to walk towards the master bedroom, the stuffie in hand from the bag.

Normally, you would have greeted him by now. Even if you were tired, you always heard him come home. Sleepily getting out of bed to greet him once he entered was a routine you never broke. But tonight, you remained silent. He figured you must have been in a deep sleep; you have been tired as of late.

Once he was closer to the door, his nose picked up on the scent of rust. It was a thick scent that he knew all too well. For the very first time in his life, Illumi felt scared. The worst scenarios ran through his mind as he stepped faster, pins in hand, stuffie dropped to the floor.

Maybe you had hurt yourself? Had he really missed the signs?

Imagine his surprise and relief when he rushed to open the door to find his wife sitting in front of a body.

You didn't respond when he called out to you, still shaken and shocked by what you had done. The man's body had already become cold. He completely ignored it, cradling your face and looking at him. He was just concerned about you.

"What happened?" He demanded to know, looking over you for any injuries.

He was relieved to find you were unscathed, physically at least. You were still unresponsive and shaking, it was the first time you’ve ever killed someone. Your eyes didn't look at him until he repeated your name again. Finally, you met his gaze, tears streaming down your face, mixing with the blood dried on your face.

"He tried to take me from you." You whispered, almost falling into his arms. Your hands gripped his shirt as you looked at him, your voice barely above a whisper.

He cupped your face, admiring the work of art you were, thumb smearing the bloodstains on your cheeks.

"Oh, dear. I'm so proud of you."

A twisted smile appeared on Illumi's face as he kissed you gently. You had killed someone.

His sweet wife. HIS. To stay with HIM.

With your family.

It was where you belonged. 

[dstryvampres]

Lab Assistant

MINORS/AGELESS BLOG DNI !

Pairing: Jonathan Crane x Reader

Warnings: smut LOL, dub con, pnv, unprotected sex, use of fear toxin on some dude, he smacks your ass like once

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: this is my first time writing just pure smut, sorry if the set up is super long.

For the past week your heater had been broken, and despite multiple calls to your landlord which always ended up with the promise that he would come over to fix it eventually, you were still freezing. Though you could escape the biting cold throughout the day by taking up a second home at your university, you always had to eventually come back to your shitty studio apartment and suffer through the night. You’re excess time spent on campus was well spent, studying in the library, napping under stairwells or in-between shelves in the library, stirring around coffee you didn’t even like but knew you have to drink to stay in the cafe, or staring longingly at your psychology professor Dr. Crane. The lack of any privacy throughout your day had started to get annoying after the first three days, not helped by the fact that because you saw Dr Crane more than you usually do, leading to you feeling more high strung. Gotham was not treating you kindly.

“Excuse me,” a voice called out quite loudly above you, forcing you out of your final exam induced coma. You gritted your teeth, knowing that you were likely overstaying your visit to the campus library, especially since you had just finished your last exam of the season, who knows how many hours ago.

Looking up you were met with the face of your favourite professor, Dr Crane. Another horrible coincidence, it was embarrassing for someone so put together and professional to find you so vulnerable, especially someone who you had in mind when your hand was shoved down your pants most nights. 

“The library is closing soon, I would recommend getting your stuff and heading out,” Dr Crane says, his voice oddly empathetic. A jarring contrast to the usual mix of hostility and boredom his voice held during lectures. He sighs and takes off his glasses, pinching his eyebrows together, seeming conflicted over what he wants to say next, so instead you fill the space with your own voice.

“Of course, I’m so sorry sir. I seemed to lose track of time, and was too exhausted to walk home. Again, I am so sorry. I should have set a timer or just maybe not sleep in the library, that was so-“

“You have been spending a weird amount of time on campus for the past week,” Dr Crane interjects, giving you a once over. “Is everything okay at home?”

The question was so genuine it made your brain short circuit. Why would he even care about you?

“Not really,” you laughed, the two words coming out of your mouth before you had time to think. A habit only recently picked up due to sleepless nights.

A smile crept over your professor's face, one that didn’t seem to reach the rest of his face. You couldn’t tell if it was from the shock of your honesty or something more sinister. He sat down in front of you, scratching his nose, letting a silence stretch out. Just long enough for pricks of discomfort to stir.

“Well, I’m running a program here at the university over the winter break. Just need an assistant to help me over at Arkham for an experiment I’m conducting. The job would include housing closer to Arkham, since it’s a little out of the city, and it pays about a dollar over the minimum wage. If you’re interested,” he slides a business card over the table, smile now dropped, “just email me in the next 48 hours.”

Taking the card eagerly between your fingers, mumbling a small ‘thank you’ under your breath before pocketing it. When you look up he’s already halfway gone. Packing up your things as fast as you can, you leave the library and hop on the train back to your shitty apartment. An email is sent to Dr Crane that night, and the following day you are confirmed as his assistant for this experiment the next day.

𝜗𝜚

The space provided for your three week stay was slightly better than your studio apartment, mostly because it had heating, but also because you shared a wall with Dr Crane. Besides the housing, the internship also came with an average pay, some work experience, and enough credits to compensate for one class. Your first week there had mostly been mundane tasks, taking notes outside of interrogation rooms while Dr Crane interviewed patients, making coffee for the two of you, making patient profiles, and making sure no one took any of Dr Crane’s “special medicine” for the experiment. Despite the easy work and the decent benefits, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something more sinister that Dr Crane wasn’t telling you about the experiment. With a thesis based around the concept of fears, you had yet to notice any great dive into the topic beside a few one-off questions.

“Before we start this week,” Dr Crane starts, sitting down in the chair opposite to you, “I want to just warn you that this is when the experiment starts to become a little more intense.”

He holds a coffee mug in his hand, as he talks the liquid sloshes around the cup. It's all information you already know, you signed an NDA, he trusts you, do what he says, and that he needs you to stay out of the room no matter what. Last week you learned just how Dr Crane enjoys his coffee, no milk and one sugar, you can’t understand how he can drink it. One sugar can’t mask the bitter taste. He drinks it quickly though, remembering the taste makes you gag.

“Before we begin today, can you prepare the variable today in syringes? I will be introducing it into the experimental group today.”

He sets down the now empty mug, a loud thump echoes through the room, startling you. Dr Crane smiles at your reaction, it’s the same one he always gives you, the one that doesn’t reach the rest of his face. You ignore the stone that has formed inside your stomach, picking up your clipboard and pen.

“I’ll meet you in room 283B,” your professor puts a hand on the small of your back, leading you both out of his office. A shock is sent through your body at the contact, once out of the room you turn to look at him, but his hand is gone and he’s headed in the opposite direction as you.

Something else that you have noticed throughout this week is just how close Dr Crane is now. He’s more touchy than you would pinpoint him as. Which isn’t saying much, but the small lingering touches he lays on you, a hand on your shoulder, maybe on the small of your back, doesn’t seem to be too professional. One… two… three millilitres of solution per syringe. The questions he asks also seem to be a little weird, especially due to the matter of the study. A common thread being his prying into your fears, and a look of hunger when he asks the questions. Soft thud of the storage container hitting the ‘chemical waste’ bin. Though you can’t really complain, this past week has given you enough content for your late nights to satisfy you for your whole university career, Masters program included. Laying out each of the syringes in a row on the tray, and counting them out. Three syringes on the top tray, six needles on the lower tray. Rolling the tray out of the room and over to the elevator to head up to the second floor.

You softly knock on the door, waiting for Dr Crane to open up the door to the observer section. The door opens in a matter of seconds, only a crack for a couple more seconds, before it is completely opened. 

“Thank you,” Dr Crane says, looking down at the tray of syringes. He takes one in his gloved hand, holds it up to the light and nods, a stamp of approval given to your handiwork. “Remember: that if anything goes wrong, do not enter the room, just call security, and take as detailed notes as possible on the patient’s behaviour and the levels on the monitor.”

You nod, taking a look at the monitor set up beside the one-way glass, all vitals seem to be steady at the moment. The door to the room holding the patient opens up and shuts quickly, Dr Crane slipping in and greeting the patient, thanking him for his time. The patient seems to be a middle aged man, scars run across his arms, roughed up from whatever he did before his time in Arkham, he’s bald and seems to be displeased with his situation. Still, when Dr Crane comes to insert the syringe into his arm he stays still and takes it. The opaque liquid disappears as Dr Crane pushes down on the syringe, removing it once all the liquid has entered into the man’s system. A ‘thank you’ is expressed by Dr Crane before he exits the room, syringe in hand. Once the door is locked, Crane disposes of the syringe in the toxic waste bin in the observer’s room.

“The solution will take about five minutes to kick in,” he says, looking at you and it’s now that you realise just how excited he seems to be. 

The heart rate on the monitor starts to speed up, taking your attention away from Crane, and noting it down.

“Are you sure you estimated the time correctly?” You ask hesitantly, not wanting to offend your professor.

“I did. No worries. Injections can do this to people.”

The next five minutes pass by slowly, Dr Crane behind your chair, his breath tickling your ear. It’s almost impossible to focus like this, you just want to do something about the growing wet spot in your pants. Screaming immediately breaks through the tension you were feeling, you look at the patient. His eyes are wide, his pupils expanded, and his heart rate reaches around 140 bpm. Alarm sets into your own heart, you didn’t expect this big of a reaction from the patient. Dr Crane nudges your shoulder, reminding you to start writing your observations.

11:06: patient’s heart rate reaches 140 bpm

11:07: patient starts uncontrollably screaming at seemingly nothing

Your continued scribbling of notes doesn’t seem to discourage Dr Crane from talking.

“I didn’t know it would be this effective. I’ve been waiting years for this to be approved and this is better than I could’ve ever expected.”

Nausea settled from the mix of pleading for mercy and screaming from the patient, and Dr Crane’s glee from his reactions. Unsure how you could continue on with doing this almost every single day for the two weeks. Writing soon became sloppy due to your own lightheadedness and nausea, every moment you begged someone to make this stop. It was too much. It stretched on for over fifteen minutes before the patient finally came back from whatever drug induced hallucination he was forced into, yet he was still crying. Wanting to distance yourself so far from this experiment, you place the clipboard down.

“Wonderful isn’t it?” Dr Crane asked you, placing a hand on your shoulder. Whatever response you thought you could muster was stuck in your throat, so instead you nodded. “I call it my ‘fear toxin.’”

Once his hand left your shoulder, you immediately stood up, head spinning so much that you stumbled right into Dr Crane.

“Are you okay? Did the ‘fear toxin’ effects startle you?” He asks, putting his hands on your shoulder to stabilise you, his voice bridges between mocking and actually concerned.

“I just need to go to the bathroom,” You squeeze out, stumbling into the hallway and waving goodbye.

Stumbling around, unable to find the bathroom, you slide down the wall of an empty hallway. Sitting on the floor and curling up into the fetal position. Nausea slipping out of you slowly, eyes closed, just wanting to forget about the whole experience. What substance could even make a man react so horribly? Why would anyone make that in the first place? What purpose could a substance like that even serve? How will this even help-

“There you are,” a voice comes from above you, Dr Crane. You open one eye up, becoming flustered at your unprofessionalism, and enraged at the sight of your cruel professor.

He kneels to your height, offering you his soulless smile. “I’m sorry if that startled you, but I thought you would be better than them. I thought you could fully see my vision, look past the gruesome bits and understand what I’m trying to do here.”

His words both enrage you even further and make you feel even more embarrassed. He created a horrible substance, tested out on a man that, from what you know, didn’t deserve it, and essentially tortured him. On the other hand, this is a man who you have dreamed about and only want to please. For the past three years, you have sat in his class and dreamed about only him. For him to think that only you could understand his plans and dreams, is a flattery you could only dream of.

“Maybe I just didn’t prepare you well enough for this. Can I make it up to you?” Dr Crane asks, offering his hand to you. It takes a couple seconds, but you take it and he leads you upwards. 

His hand is oddly cold, his grip on your own hand is firm, but not harsh. His skin is smooth. It’s embarrassing that he has to lead you out of this room, has to coax you to continue.

“Let’s go to my office, hm?” Quirking an eyebrow, but not waiting for a response he led you down the hallway.

Everything seemed to blur together for you, the trip to the elevator, down the elevator, and into his office. He clicks the door shut, locking it, then turns to you. Stepping forward until he’s cornered you onto his desk.

“You think I don’t hear you at night. Calling my name. The walls in that place are very thin,” Dr Crane whispers into your ear, his hand slithering up your thigh.

A gasp escapes your lips, both at the hand now dangerously close to the warmth growing in your pants, and also because you didn’t think he would be able to hear your late night pleasure sessions. Soon he’s cupping your sex and you moan into his ear softly, earning a hum from him. Finger wander up from your sex to cup your chin, he brings you into a kiss. It’s bruising and hungry, he’s biting at your lower lip and you swear you can taste your own blood. His fingers make quick work unbuttoning your pants, sliding them down your legs until they drop to pool around your ankle.

“You're so wet already, how interesting,” He teases, tracing a finger over your clothed slit. Moaning in response you chase after his lips, but he pulls away. 

Your underwear is pushed over to the side, and his middle and ring finger breach your entrance. A loud ‘oh’ comes from your mouth, crane presses his lips to yours again to silence you. His fingers move slowly in and out of you, he catches each moan you let out with his mouth. His lips are soft, but the kiss is rough, his fingers speed up. They stretch you out so nicely it stings a little bit. It’s been so long since someone else has pleasured you, at all.

His fingers pulled out of your sex slowly, deliberately. A painstaking motion that left you close to pleasureless as he pulled out of your kiss. Quickly flipping you around and pressing you into his desk, the shock between his warm body behind you and the cold desk pressed against your front sent you spiralling. There was shuffling behind you, before you felt him lineup his cock with your cunt.

“Beg for it.” 

Your mouth opens and you spew out a string of ‘please’s and ‘need it’ that seem to satisfy him enough for him to push inside of you. He’s girthier than you expected, but not as long as you expected, which is fine for you. The stretch makes you ache and he won’t be bruising your cervix. Without giving you a moment to adjust he starts to move in and out of you.

“You have to be quiet, okay?” He says, before picking up his speed.

He sets up a consistent speed, hitting a spot inside of you that makes you grip the edge of the desk so intensely that your knuckles are turning white. The desk creaks as he moves in and out of your cunt, his breathing speeds up, one hand twists into your hair pulling your head back and you can’t tell if it’s to ground himself or as a reminder for you not to be too loud. Another hand comes to smack your ass, it's a swift hit, but it makes your knees buckle. 

“You're so much better than I thought you would be,” Dr Crane strains out between grunts.

He presses his front to your back, the hand in your hair softening its grip but not leaving. His breath tickles the back of your ear, the grunting coming from him makes you bite your lip to suppress your moans so hard there will be an indent left there tomorrow.

“Dr Crane, can I cum? Please, I’ve been so good, please let me cum,” you babble, the side of your face pressed into his desk making your words slur a little bit.

“Cum for me,” he says, moving the hand not tangled in your hair to your clit. Pressing small circles into your clit, he starts to speed up. 

Soon the pressure in your stomach releases and it goes black for a couple seconds. You feel Dr Crane’s hand press into your mouth to silence you as your legs buckle. Once you’re conscious again, he has already pulled out of you and you can hear him zip up his pants. You stand on your shaking legs and follow suit, trying to press your hair down into a more professional shape.

“I would recommend you get cleaned up,” Dr Crane says, giving you a smile, “Was that enough motivation to continue aiding me in my experiment?” “Uh- Yes,” you answer, not fully aware of what you were even saying, too embarrassed and lightheaded to even compute anything he was saying besides ‘getting cleaned up.’

“Perfect. After you get cleaned up, please meet me in room 256B. We can meet again here tomorrow during our lunch break if you continue to need the motivation provided,” He pats you on the shoulder, and leaves you in the room alone.

[exhaslo]

Corruption Ch15

(Villain!Miguel x F!Hero!Reader)

Ch1, Ch2, Ch3, Ch4, Ch5, Ch6, Ch7, Ch8, Ch9, Ch10, Ch11, Ch12, Ch13, Ch14

Warning: Minors DNI, mentions of sex, violence, blood, murder, twisted thoughts, experimentation, language, wannabe fluff, established friendship/relationship? drug use

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Fifteen Days Until D-Day

"I'm going to have you run and get my morning coffee," Miguel said with a most devilish smirk on his face.

Aaron rolled his eyes as he showed his upmost disgust towards his hated boss.

"Why me and not your assistant?" Aaron questioned, trying to find out where you were.

"(Y/N) has her own matters to take care of. That of which have nothing to do with you and everything to do with me. But, if you truly must know, (Y/N) has been sent to shop for an upcoming event I need her ready for. Does that please you?"

"Sure,"

Aaron just grumbled as he took Miguel's order and proceeded to leave his office. What an asshole, but at least you were going to be no where near Miguel. This worked out perfectly for Aaron. Today was the day his plan was going to be set in motion.

--------

Miguel couldn't resist laughing as he watched Aaron on the cameras, cussing and complaining. What was he to expect? Aaron was the one who put himself in this situation by threatening to quit if he did something as small as this.

Miguel loved being petty and putting people in their place.

It's what they deserve.

Sitting back down on his chair, Miguel reviewed the notes on the last experiment he had with your blood. Finally, there was a success with no horrible side effects. Miguel was just letting the test subject roam around in his cell for any thing to happen.

Right as he was going to tune in on the test subject, you called. Miguel's eyes sparkled for a moment as he answered the video call, wondering what were you going to show him now.

"Miiiiiguel, are you sure I can pick something from here? Everything is so...fancy," You whispered, showing him the price tag, "And expensive!"

"Of course. You are my date to the Share Holders Party next month. I want you looking as perfect as you can be."

"Sooooo....my Spider Suit?" You whispered, giggling into the camera. Miguel couldn't refuse a chuckle,

"Clever, but no." Miguel smiled, watching you pout, "I don't care for the price. Just take your time and pick something you'll like that matches my suit."

"Okay," You pouted once more, "I'll send you pictures of the dresses I try on. Let me know which one you like~"

Miguel cocked a brow as you hung up. Oh, how you tempted him. Miguel was going to bully you when he becomes perfect. No matter how much you cried and begged him to stop, Miguel was going to make sure you thought of nothing but him.

"Shit,"

Just thinking about you becoming a moaning mess got him hard. These frequent sessions of pleasing each other kept getting more and more dangerous. Miguel almost fucked you the last time you gave him a blow job.

Miguel would never admit these feelings. He had to remember that this was all just a ploy to get you to carry his child. To get you to stop playing hero. All of this was so that Miguel could have you as his trophy wife.

"(Y/N)" Miguel cussed lowly as he beat against his cock.

Feelings? The term was foreign to Miguel. Yes, you were attractive. Yes, you were always on Miguel's mind. Yes, you made Miguel do things he wouldn't...but surely, that wasn't love. This was all just Miguel's body acting on instinct...right?

Right???

--------

Aaron made his way back to Alchemax, humming lowly as he held the large coffee in his hand. As he walked, Aaron skillfully reached into his pocket and proceeded to stop at a red light. He undid the lip of the coffee and poured the contents of his pocket into the drink.

"A taste of your own medicine."

--------

Miguel was in the middle of working on a new project for his father when Aaron returned. Not even a mutter of thanks, Miguel took the coffee and proceeded to drink from it. Noticing Aaron still in the corner of his lab, Miguel scoffed.

"You may leave,"

"What? No paperwork needed to be done? No meetings to schedule?" Aaron mocked. Miguel felt a headache form,

"As if you could replace (Y/N). Leave." He hissed.

Drinking more of his coffee, Miguel started to get frustrated again. Why did others have to piss him off? Hearing his phone go off, Miguel sighed in thanks for the distraction. He pulled out his phone and proceeded to smile at your photos.

Right when Miguel went to text you, he felt another headache form. This one stronger than before. Groaning at the feeling, Miguel felt something else wrong. His body felt like it was on fire. In pain. As if he took something he shouldn't.

"Fuck, Lyla, scan the coffee." Miguel cussed, pouring the liquid into one of his machines.

"Sir, there are traces of Rapture in the drink!"

"Ese maldito pequeño- (That fucking little-) LYLA! I want EVERYONE out of this goddamn building before I kill that brat." Miguel spat.

"But sir-"

"I don't CARE! Set the fire alarm off!"

Miguel fell on his knees as he started cursing up a storm. How dare he get exposed to Rapture by a peasant. Miguel could not have any drugs in his system. Every little thing could affect his future child with you.

Trying to think as his vision blurred, Miguel groaned. Everything was spinning and started to morph. This drug was powerful. It was impossible to cure. Rapture clings to the DNA itself, making it one with the person.

"DNA, that's it."

Having a brilliant, yet dangerous idea, Miguel hurried to his labs as everyone fled the building. He winced in pain, holding onto his side as he entered the lab with the genetic splicing machine.

"A failure when mixing in other DNA to humans...but human DNA to human DNA should have no effect on the machine...but cure me as well," Miguel muttered to himself.

Once the input was correct, Miguel strapped himself to the machine. This had to work. It had too.

---------

Aaron watched as everyone fled the building due to the fire alarm. He knew better since by now Miguel must have figured out his drink was laced with Rapture. Before Aaron left, he couldn't help by notice that the elevator stopped on the floor with the labs.

Deciding to make his way up, Aaron soon noticed Miguel in his own lab messing with his genetic splicing machine. Aaron couldn't help but over hear and grew angry. All this time, his coworkers could have had the chance to be cured.

Miguel was truly a villain.

Hurrying inside while Miguel wasn't paying attention, Aaron stood by the controls. He saw the input set to 'human' and cussed lowly. Typing away on the computer, Aaron chuckled lowly as he changed the input to 'spider'.

"Since you love Spiders so much, I hope you enjoy being one." Aaron chuckled as he turned the machine on.

In that moment, right when Miguel was hit with the laser, there was a large explosion. Aaron yelled as he was flung back, hitting the wall in the process. A low groan escaped his lips as he tried to get up, wondering what happened.

There, in the middle of the lab, Miguel stood.

Fangs.

Talons.

Everything that screamed monster. Aaron let out a yell as he tried to run, but he was not fast enough. Miguel appeared before him, taller than before. Buffer than before. More intimidating.

It was at this moment, Aaron knew...he was fucked.

--------

Something went wrong. No? Something went right. Miguel coughed from the explosion, feeling more powerful than before. His vision was still adjusting to the smoke and lights, while his earing grew more keen. There was someone else in here.

Glancing towards the wall, Miguel noticed Aaron. His red eyes sparkled as he appeared before the fool. Miguel felt stronger than before. He felt like he could run marathons.

"What did you do?" Miguel asked with a hiss, feeling fangs poke at his lower lip.

"You're half Spider you freak. Now there's no way (Y/N) will ever see you as a human." Aaron was just digging his own grave.

Half -Spider?

Oh, this was music to Miguel's ears.

"I don't think (Y/N) will care once I fuck the idea out of her mind," Miguel said with a smirk as he grabbed Aaron by the collar, "Oh? Didn't want to hear that? Well, (Y/N) has been riding my dick for months. You never had a chance with her."

Oh, the look of pure despair on Aaron's face. Oh, how Miguel loved it. To break someone down. To have them realize that they were never a match for him. It made things so much more fun!

"Now, for lacing my drink. I must terminate you."

"Can't, I already quit." Aaron said, his words trembling.

Miguel raised a brow as he listen to Aaron's silly plea. His phone was going on, most likely you calling. Poking his head to the side, Miguel noticed the window in the lab. The explosion had broken it. What a shame.

"Guess I'll have to find another way to terminate you."

"What-"

Miguel roared in laughter as he listened to Aaron's screams as Miguel tossed him out the window. As if Miguel was ever going to let him live after nearly damaging his body.

Well, he did make it up in the end. Grabbing his clothes, Miguel proceeded to have Lyla make another explosion. He had a part to play. Before leaving the building, Miguel made sure that the lab with your blood was completely gone and the work erased.

There was no need for it now.

Miguel got what he wanted.

Finally reaching outside, Miguel pretended to cough from the smoke. He watched as the fire fighters hurried to place the flames out, while police questioned about the explosion.

"Miguel! Miguel!" You cried out, hurrying over, "I was so worried! What happened, are you okay?!" You asked, tears threatening to spill.

Miguel just smiled since you didn't come as Spider-Woman. You were behaving quite nicely. Wrapping his lab coat around your shoulders, Miguel smiled as he rubbed your head.

"I'm fine. Looks like someone messed with my genetic splicing machine and blew the place up." Miguel lied, watching you close your eyes to his touch, "Heard someone died."

"Oh no!" You gasped. Miguel chuckled lowly, stroking your cheek some more,

"But, nothing that could have been done."

"But-"

"Nothing," Miguel said firmly, his eyes orbs staring into yours, "Shit, this sun is so bright." He cussed.

You tilted your head as Miguel groaned lowly. He rested his head against your shoulder, causing you to call the EMTs over. Miguel tried to complain, but was growing a headache from the light. You frowned, rubbing your thumbs gently against his eyes,

"Maybe the smoke got to you. Just sit down and relax, okay?"

Miguel grunted in response, holding your hand firmly. He had to run some tests on himself to see what exactly changed in his DNA. Obviously, you didn't have fangs or talons. So Miguel had to make sure he won't hurt you when mating you.

"Miguel?"

"I'm okay,"

Miguel sighed softly as he rested his head against your shoulder. He needed to rest. There was plenty of time for everything. His tests can run later. Right now, Miguel just needed to let his body rest from the sudden change.

Then...He was coming for you.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------

Next Chapter

Lol, I hope some of you noticed Aaron's role. In the original comics, Aaron was a jealous coworker who messed with the genetic splicing machine that turned Miguel into Spider-Man. However, Miguel tried to save him in the comics when he was falling out the window, but his talons ripped Aaron's skin, causing him to fall to his death.

@tojishugetiddies @miguelsfavwife @foulsharkheart @club-danger-zone @ivkygirly @jollystrawberrycycle @amber-content @weirdothatwritess @smartyren @mangoslushcrush @nyxzoldyck6 @migueloharastruelove @sukioyakio @killjoy-nightshadow @heyohalie @the-pan-liquid @bokutosprettylittlebimbo @kpopscoups17130000 @pochapo @killerwendigo @barbiecrocs @miss-galaxy-turtle @oscarissac2099 @lazy-idate @lauraolar14 @safixiovi @migueloharacumslut @straw-berry-ghoul @daisy-artfield @sukunash0e @undf-stuff @iamperson12280 @nightingale1011 @reader-1290 @mcmiracles @keepghostly @marlyharper @jadeloverxd @daddyfroglegs @shoukanjo

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: husband! Tom Riddle x fem! wife! Reader

Warnings: NSFW, kinda public sex but there’s no one around, fluff!!, kinda domestic and soft, inaccurate bc there’s no way sexy two pieces existed back in the 1950’s💀, once again my horrible knowledge of basic grammar

A/n: really felt like writing lil something for hubby Tom🥰 Sorry for disappearing for such a long period, I have lots of cool ideas and drafts but my adhd never allows me to finish any on them;( Anyways, wish you a very pleasant reading and hope you enjoy💖

It was a sultry sunny day, the kind you experience in the middle of September, when calendar summer is already gone but the sun still gladdened people with last warm days.

It took you only a few days of bothering and fake accusation of not loving you to convince your husband Tom to finally take a day off from his job at ‘Borgin and Burkes’ and go have some fun together on a beach. He was grumpy and pouty for the first half an hour, but then seemed to accept his fate, indulging your little whims and wishes.

You didn’t manage to talk him into taking a swim together, no matter how hard you tried, but Tom did, eventually, took his shoes off and rolled up the cuffs of his trousers, standing ankles-deep into warm sea water, watching you dive and dork around in salty waves.

You were currently laying on your side on a soft picknick blanket facing Tom, left arm bent in elbow, head propped up on your hand, your eyes lazily wandering all over your husband’s side profile. He was laying on his back right next to you, arms thrown behind his head, nape resting on his palms.

Tom had changed. The juvenile plushness was long gone from his cheeks, instead leaving place for his sharp jawline and protuberant cheekbones. His hair was a slightest bit longer than it used to be during your school years, framing his pale face in dark silky waves. You noticed how he was nibbling on the inside of his bottom lip ever so slightly - a telltale sign that Tom was thinking intensely about something faraway. You fought the urge to trace the outline of his nose with gentle fingertips, knowing perfectly well how grouchy and whiny he’ll get at this action.

Your eyes wandered lower, taking in his outfit - even despite the scorching sun and high air temperature Tom refused to ditch his usual suit trousers and, this time, baby-blue shirt - instead opting to undo quite a few buttons, allowing a generous view on his pale chest.

A sudden idea visited your mind so you sat up from your semi-lying position, throwing one leg over Tom’s hips, settling yourself atop his pelvis comfortably. Your nimble fingers ran up his chest, caressing exposed areas of his skin with tender touches, all the way to his face, cradling it softly in your hands; you leaned down to scatter small kisses all over his cheeks, nose and lips.

- Y/n, what are you doing? - Tom chided you softly, the corners of his lips tugging up in slightest of smiles, even though it was pretty obvious that he was unpleased with you interrupting his thoughts.

- Trying to seduce you, - you replied stoically, not a hint of embarrassment nor unease could be heard in your purring voice.

- Right here? - Tom asked, you could hear his voice rising just a slightest bit, giving out his astonishment.

- Yeah, why not? - you said offhandedly, your lips stretching in a cheeky smile, gazing down at your husband mischievously.

- What if someone sees us? - Tom rose yet another question, cocking one of his perfect eyebrows at you.

You made a show of looking around the deserted beach, not spotting a single soul being around; not only this place was secluded by dangerously high cliffs, making it extremely hard for reaching, but also the fact that it was Wednesday - a middle of a working week - reduced chances of anyone being around to zero.

You brought your sight back to Tom, shrugging your shoulders theatrically:

- I can’t see nor hear anyone, Tommy. - one of your hands reached behind your back, gripping on the straps of your two-piece swimming suit, tugging on it slowly, un-doing the tight knot. You didn’t bother to untie the second knot on your neck, instead deciding to pull the bra off over your head, throwing it teasingly on top of your husband’s chest. - I think you’re just being a buzzkill that you are, Riddle.

You made an accent on the last word, watching Tom’s eyes wander to your now exposed tits, noticing your hardened from still unpleasantly damp fabric of your bra nipples. You cupped your breasts, pinching your nubs with thumbs and index fingers, all while slightly rocking your hips against Tom’s clothed groin, sighing erotically at the slight friction it created against your clit.

You repeated your movements a few more times, circling and swaying your hips so sensually, putting more pressure into your thrusts, increasing a pleasant feeling against both your sexes. You peeked down at Tom through your eyelashes, noting the way his chiseled jaw clenched, his dark eyes never leaving your perfect body.

You smiled widely at his hungry stare, leaning down to place a soft kiss on his chopped from salty sea wind lips - he kissed you back almost immediately. Tom’s hands came from under his nape, picking your bra from his chest and tossing it aside before coming to rest on your waist, thumbs pressing gentle circles into your heated skin.

His slim fingers wandered all over your body, eventually reaching your plushy thighs - rough fingertips glided up and down your skin, rising herds of goosebumps in their wake, stopping on your ass, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

You could feel Tom’s dick hardening at your simple manipulations, his bulge growing noticeably bigger in his pants, rubbing against your soft ass with every smallest move you made. You didn’t bother taking Tom’s trousers off, just undoing his zipper and pulling his semi-hard dick out of his underwear. You wrapped your fingers around his shaft, pumping it slowly a few times, your eyes never breaking an eye contact.

You straightened up, standing on your knees; you struggled quite a bit while taking off your bottoms, since this position wasn’t the most comfortable. You heard Tom muttering quiet ‘oh god’ under his breath in feigned annoyance, obviously teasing you, for which you lightly smacked him on the chest.

Once done and completely naked you slightly scooted forward so that your awaiting pussy was hovering right above Tom’s heavy cock. You gave him a few more jerks before leading it to your slicked folds, sliding them along his throbbing shaft, properly slicking him up with your juices. After a few more moments you aligned his swollen tip with your pulsing entrance, lowering your hips slowly, gently sinking onto his length. A satisfied sigh left both of you once Tom was fully buried inside of your quivering warmth, your ass pressed tightly against his thighs.

His broad hands came to rest on the swell of your hips, molding and playing with soft flesh in between his long fingers. You let out a small whimper as you could feel Tom’s cock stuffing you full, his tip was pressed against your cervix so deliciously, all along with a pleasant stretch on your plushy walls.

You rose your hips carefully, still adjusting to your current position, sliding off half of his length, and sank back down onto his cock, providing such desired friction. You watched his adam’s apple bob as Tom swallowed heavily, and you repeated your actions a few more times, until you found a comfortable rhythm, impaling yourself over and over again on his steady cock.

Your hands came to rest on Tom’s chest, supporting yourself against his body, back arching at the pleasant feeling of his dick grazing all the right spots inside of your throbbing pussy. Soft moans spilled out of your lips as one of Tom’s hands went down to play with your clit, skillfully circling and massaging swollen nub with the tips of his fingers. Your head lolled back, a loud cry of your husband’s name rolled off your tongue as you quickened the pace of your thrusts, rocking against him so passionately.

Tom rested one hand on your nape, putting a bit of pressure into his touch, indicating for you to lean down. You did so, lowering your torso until your chest was pressed flush against his; your lips found his in a matter of moments, connecting in a fervid kiss, his tongue slithering into your mouth, making you gasp in surprise.

Your loud moan was swallowed by Tom’s greedy mouth as he unexpectedly thrusted his hips up into your perfect squelching pussy from underneath; his free hand was gripping onto your waist tightly, fixating you into this position. You broke your kiss, burying your flushed face into the crook of his neck as his hips picked up a quick pace, fucking your pussy raw with his throbbing cock.

- Yeah? You like that, you little minx? - Tom rasped into your ear, his lips brushed against your ear shell, making you tremble slightly. You nodded your head ‘yes’ fervently, leaving open-mouthed kisses all over the side of his neck.

- I love it so much, Tommy. Please, don’t stop, please, please, - you babbled out incoherently, your mind hazed and barely working from intense pleasure rolling through your body in waves.

Tom slid his hand from your nape and along your spine, all the way down to your jiggly ass, especially relishing to grab and mold your pliable flesh with his fingers. The hard, smooth strokes of his cock inside your slicked pussy caused ecstasy to well up inside you, your body prickling, almost painfully, in foretaste of a nearing orgasm.

Your hands grabbed on Tom’s biceps, you could feel his muscles flexing underneath your touch. You bit down onto his shoulder, eliciting a quiet hiss from the man underneath you, knowing how much he disliked when you left hickeys in such obvious places. His hand left your waist to slide in between your pressed bodies, fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles onto it, bringing you closer and closer to your orgasm.

- Tom, ‘m gonna cum, ‘m gonna cum, please don’t stop, - you mumbled into his skin, hot and bothered, and you felt him nod at your words, his hips picking up faster pace, snapping loudly against your pliant body.

White stars hit your vision, as you felt your orgasm rippling through your trembling form, setting every nerve in your body on fire in intense pleasure. You didn’t register all the moans and pleadings slipping past your lips as you babbled in your euphoria, your quivering pussy along with dirty words only brought Tom closer to his own release.

Tom followed you soon enough, cumming with a groan and a low moan of your name, dumping his thick load deep inside of you. You laid rigid atop him, both of you trying to catch your breaths, listening to the soft whisper of wind and sea. Surprisingly, Tom was the one who broke the comfortable silence:

- A few more moments and I’d go deaf on one ear, - Tom commented and you didn’t understand what he was talking about. It took you a few moments to realize that all this time you were moaning and screaming uncontrollably mere centimeters away from his ear, surely causing a lot of discomfort, especially knowing how sensitive man was to any sort of noises.

You chuckle airily, muttering quiet ‘sorry, darling’ under your breath, your hand going up to comb your fingers through his silky, now knotted, hair, massaging his scalp lovingly.

Dragging Tom all the way here was definitely a good decision.

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated! Feedback is basically the only thing that keeps writers creating new content

[olderthannetfic]

I was watching this video of a trans guy talking about his experience discovering his identity and coming out. One of the comments was something like “I want to tell my parents that I’m trans, but I’m scared because they’re transphobic.”

I give similar advice to other commenters, which basically boiled down to “Do NOT tell your parents, at least not until you’re financially independent from them and you’ve moved out.”

There was one guy saying “You are all paranoid, what do you think the parents are going to do?”

I felt that this was such a naïve and sheltered way of thinking. It’s like this guy has never heard of trans kids being kicked out or being abused directly because they are trans. I don’t know if the guy was cishet and never had to consider what queer people go through; or maybe the guy is queer, but had a loving family, and he just thinks everyone has the same experience as him. Either way, I thought it was a little crazy that this was the guy’s response.

Maybe we were expecting the worst, and not letting the original commenter build a stronger relationship with their parents. But this is unlikely: they later revealed that the parents have hit them at least once for asking if they could out with friends.

--

Oof. Even in the 2020s, the position of trans youth in parts of the US where being a cis gay is mostly okay-ish is very marginal. (Never mind all the other places people can be from.)

I do have a few friends I really think should open up to their parents more. I think those particular parents may be a little clueless, but they'd step up if they had any idea their (adult) child was suffering and hiding things.

The vast majority of the time, however, it's on parents to earn their kids' trust. If there's no trust, there's probably a good fucking reason. It may be active horribleness. It may just be a lack of being understanding and overtly opening the door for heart-to-hearts. But as a parent, it's your job to do more of that work and not leave it to your kid.

Fuck no, that trans kid shouldn't tell their shitty parents. Not until they're out of the house. If the parents are paying for college, not until after they've sent the last check.

[marvelstoriesepic]

Last updated: October 31

I’m only writing for Bucky Barnes

Lots of love for my Bucky people! ♡

I do not consent my work to getting republished

My work can include heavy themes (such as sexual assault, abuse, panic attacks, death, toxic behavior, self-doubt etc). Each chapter and fic will have their own warnings, but if anything might trigger you, be cautious!

If you are interested in reading the Bucky fics I loved on this app, check out my list of fic recommendations on my other blog @buckbuckbarnesstuff

˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔ October Writing Challenges 2024 ˖°.🍂.ೃ࿔

WIP Game

♡ - personal fav

❁ - fic with 300+ notes

✯ - fic with 500+ notes

Series 𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Breaking Chains (ongoing)

Biker!Bucky x reader

Summary: Leaving behind an abusive and possessive boyfriend, and finding refuge in the hometown you once yearned to escape, certainly wasn’t a chapter you anticipated in your life’s story. Yet, eyes as blue as the sky at dusk, belonging to a mysterious biker drew you into a world of unexpected possibilities, where a job at his bar becomes more than just a means of survival - it’s a pathway to freedom and self-discovery. Though, breaking away from your past proves daunting when shackled by invisible chains.

Two-Parts 𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

1. Tangled ropes [8.2k]

Sailor!Bucky x reader

Summary: A new sailor arrives at the docks amongst Captain Barton’s crew. Maybe it’s the way he looks at you, the way he carries himself, or perhaps it’s the way his eyes are the echo of the ocean in color and depth. But something about him makes you want to untangle the ropes that seem to choke his spirit.

&

2. Beyond the Horizon (coming soon)

One-shots 𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Listen to your gut [2.8k] ❁

Avenger!Bucky x Avenger!Reader

Summary: Bucky is assigned on a Hydra mission. Letting him venture back in the lion’s den without backup sets a deep unsettling dread knotting your stomach. Drowning out logic and reason you beg him to stay.

Still on the list [14.1k] ✯

Frat!College!Bucky x College!Reader

Summary: Bucky Barnes, the infamous frat guy, known for sleeping around and throwing parties left and right, constantly invites you, out of all people, to all of them. His intentions though remain a mystery to you. Following a troubling event that leaves you shaken and anxious, Bucky is there to pick up the pieces. Stolen glances and exchanged smiles gradually blossom into a connection that goes beyond what meets the eye.

Casual Sweetness [2.3k] ♡ ❁

Roommate!Bucky x reader

Summary: You seek out your roommate and best friend Bucky for comfort after a girls night out leaves you shaken up.

Two [6.2k] ♡

College!Athlete!Bucky x College!Reader

Summary: Your friends Wanda and Nat drag you to a corn maze event at night. After a rather unpleasant encounter with Bucky, Sam, and Steve, you want nothing but this night to end. Unfortunately for you, you’ll have to find the exit first.

Latte (He)art [7.8k]

Barista!Bucky x Coworker!College!Reader

Summary: Your sweet coworker at the café you work at part time is the only thing able to brighten your day. So it’s only practical that he always ends up in the same shift as you.

Ocean’s claim [5.9k]

Lifeguard!Bucky x Amateur!Surfer!Reader

Summary: Seeking a thrill, your friend Natasha convinces you to go surfing during stormy weather conditions - a bad idea as you come to experience.

Pirate Nights and Pumpkin Lights [1.7k]

Modern!Bucky x Reader

Summary: Bucky and you take Morgan, Billy, and Tommy trick-or-treating on Halloween.

Drabbles 𖡼𖤣𖥧𖡼𓋼𖤣𖥧𓋼𓍊

Paranoia [1.4k]

Avenger!Bucky x reader

Summary: Bucky comes home to an unlocked door - his mind convinces him something horrible happened to you

Learn his way [1.5k] ❁

College!Bucky x College!Tutor!Reader

Summary: Bucky is more interested in learning about you than biology

“Tell me every terrible thing you ever did, and let me love you anyway.”

- Edgar Allan Poe

[jjkamochoso]

I’ll Be There for You

Angst, fluff

Levi Ackerman x gn!reader

Levi comes to your rescue when you’re dealing with negative feelings/depression :)

Warnings: cussing, negative self talk, allusions to depression, thoughts of death

A/n: if this fic helps even one person feel a bit better, then I’ve done my job🫶 much love to any of you who are or ever have felt this way; you’re worthy, you’re loved, and you have so much more life to experience so please don’t give up and always keep fighting❤️ I’m here for anyone who needs it and don’t be afraid to reach out!! Much love to you all❤️

Quite simply, you just wanted to lay in your bed and rot into the mattress, never to be seen again.

You didn’t know what brought on these feelings, you just knew you wanted no part of them. You would much rather sleep the hours away in hopes that they would leave on their own, but that wasn’t an option; you had to go to work. Trying to get out of bed each day was a Herculean task when it felt like your limbs were made of concrete. Inside your head were swirling thoughts of insecurities pertaining to every facet of your life.

I’m horrible at my job.

Everyone’s too busy to care about me, I’m not worth their time.

No one would care if I died.

You sighed, slinging your uniform jacket over your shoulders. You didn’t bother looking in your small mirror, figuring that seeing your appearance would only make your thoughts worse. You grabbed some files from your office as you made your way past the dining hall, opting to forgo breakfast. You had little appetite the last week, not having enough energy or care to fuel your body. You were just filing paperwork anyway, it wasn’t like you were doing anything important or worthwhile. Normally you would smile as you heard the chatter of your comrades chowing down on their meals, but lately it brought you no joy, instead leaving your heart heavy with an indescribable sadness. Your boots slammed against the floor, each step as difficult as the one before it. You trudged along to your superior’s office, dropping off some of the files before heading back to your own office, not looking forward to report writing the next few hours. You barely registered the presence of someone else in the hallway next to you, your surroundings unimportant as you pleaded with the universe to let you hide away in your office, alone and unbothered.

The universe was not so kind.

“You look like shit,” Levi commented, his eyebrows knitted in concern.

You snorted as you kept walking. “Thanks, Captain.”

Normally you would have a sarcastic remark at the ready, but you weren’t in the mood.

“Are you sick?” He walked in time with you.

You hesitated before answering. “I… don’t feel well.”

Levi quickly moved away several inches.

“It’s not contagious,” you added. His expression was unreadable.

“You haven’t eaten much lately.” he observed.

“Not hungry,” you replied, causing him to roll his eyes.

“Shitty excuse. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, okay? I’m fine,” you said through clenched teeth, fighting the urge to scream. You didn’t want him to know of your internal pain. You couldn’t show Humanity’s Strongest Soldier how weak you were. You picked up the pace to your office as Levi walked right next to you, offering you silent companionship. Under different circumstances you would be chatting away with the man, but right now you wanted to wallow in your despair by yourself and not be questioned about your lack of food or hygiene.

“This is me. I’ll see you around.”

You tried to slam the door closed as fast as you could, but his lithe leg was faster, blocking it with his foot.

He narrowed his eyes. “You’re a horrible liar.”

“I’m tired, that’s all,” you tried to reason, hoping he would either believe you or get the hint you really didn’t want to talk about this with him. Levi peeked behind you and caught a glimpse of your office, making him frown at what he saw. Your desk, usually rivaling his level of cleanliness and organization, was such a mess that he could barely stomach it. You noticed his eyes wandering and you shoved yourself closer into the doorframe to block his view.

“Anything else I can help you with?” you asked, clearly frustrated with him.

“No. Take care of yourself, L/n. I have no need for a squad leader who can’t perform at their best.”

With that, he pulled his boot from your doorframe and left you to replay those words over and over in your head.

As Levi left your office, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was really wrong with you. Your desk being such a wreck was totally out of the norm. Obviously you were lying about only being tired, but he didn’t know what the source of your issues was. Walking down the hallway, he saw that your bedroom door was left ajar. He wasn’t one to invade others’ privacy, but you were acting quite strange and, as a captain, he had a duty to make sure his peers were alright. Well, you two were more than peers anyway; he considered you a close friend and a trustworthy comrade. He hated seeing your lack of motivation, knowing you were capable of so much more, and thought his harsh words earlier would give you the boost you needed to get a grip and snap out of your funk.

What he saw when he opened your bedroom door made his skin crawl.

Your normally tidy, clean room was in a state of utter chaos. Your clothes were strewn haphazardly all over the place, your bed wasn’t made, sheets falling on the floor. Your gear wasn’t cleaned properly, nor was it resting in its rightful place. What was going on with you? He left as quickly as he came in, having seen enough. You hadn’t been cleaning or eating, two important daily tasks that never slipped your mind. You looked like you hadn’t bathed in many days or been bothered to monitor your appearance whatsoever. You weren’t ill because you wouldn’t lie to him about not being contagious.

So what was it?

He thought about your glassy, empty eyes. Your expression was mostly neutral, but he could see through the facade you were putting up; you were deeply troubled by something.

You were suffering mentally and he had just now noticed.

He cursed at himself for not realizing it earlier. Between his own never ending piles of work and lack of sleep, more so than usual, he hadn’t noticed the signs of you pulling away from everyone until much too late. His mind reeled at what he should do next. There were so many things that needed to be done to kickstart your healing process, he just didn’t know where to start.

Actually, he did.

It had been hours and you had barely written anything on the paper in front of you, your brain unable to focus on work long enough to form professional sentences. You wanted to rip the stack of papers into teeny little shreds, take out your mental anguish on something tangible. You thought back to what Levi had said: he had no need for you, since, clearly, you were as far from your best as you could ever be. You couldn’t even find it within yourself to care, numbness overtaking you. It was just a matter of time before you were fired, discharged, and thrown to the streets. Maybe there you could disappear for good…

Knocks at your door interrupted your spiraling thoughts.

“Name and business,” you called out, less than enthused.

“It’s Levi. Open up.”

You groaned. You didn’t want him to see your office in disarray, though you suspected he had seen enough earlier.

“Is it urgent?”

“I’ll kick down the door if you don’t let me in.”

“Guess that’s a yes,” you grumbled under your breath.

“No need to damage government property. It’s unlocked,” you told him, hinges creaking as he stepped inside. In his hands were a steaming cup of tea and some bread that he set in front of you.

“Here. You can’t starve yourself,” he said.

“I appreciate the gesture but I’m not hungry,” you reiterated.

“Stop being so damn stubborn and have at least a little bite. Or drink the tea. I won’t watch you waste away,” he argued, irises aflame with an intense emotion you couldn’t pinpoint. You didn’t want to be a further disappointment so you nibbled on the bread, your stomach coming to life with gurgles of hunger as you swallowed the welcome nutrients. Levi looked around for a place to sit but all of your chairs were occupied by opened books and papers you hadn’t stacked neatly.

“Sorry about the mess, you can just stick those on the floor with the other piles,” you said, embarrassed at your lack of tidying. He took a seat and watched you intently as you ate and drank. When he was satisfied with the progress of your meal, he spoke up.

“I’m not… good… with my words,” he started, more hesitant than you’d ever known him to be, “but I want you to know that I’m available for you no matter what. I won’t let you suffer alone.”

“Really, Levi, I appreciate it, but it’s nothing, I’m-”

“Your office is a mess and your room is a disaster. Your mannerisms have changed. I know you, y/n, I know something’s off. I failed at seeing it sooner and I let you down.”

His gray eyes bore into your own. “But I’m here now. I’ll do everything in my power to keep you from losing yourself. Whatever you need.”

Your gaze dropped to your desk.

“I don’t know what I need,” you whispered. “I don’t know what I need to feel better. To make all of this go away.”

“That means we won’t stop trying things until we find a solution,” Levi responded, resolute in his statement.

“We?” you asked, uncertain of what he meant.

“That’s what I said. You’re not fighting on your own. We’re in this together.”

“But I’m weak for feeling like this. I don’t want to be another burden on you or anyone else.”

You couldn’t dare look Levi in the eyes during your confession, afraid of how he was viewing you as you displayed your most vulnerable moments out in the open like this. He stood abruptly from his chair, the sound of wood scraping on wood echoing through your office. He leaned over you, his hands gentle yet firm on your shoulders.

“Look at me.” You slowly raised your head as he addressed you, his bangs hanging haphazardly over his forehead. “Don’t ever say something so stupid like that again. This is not weakness and you’re not a burden. That’s your shitty brain lying to you. I will repeat this as many times as I need to until your ears bleed or your mind starts believing it.”

He gave your shoulders one last squeeze before unhanding you. “You can talk to me if that helps. I might not have the right words but I’ll listen. It’s a hell of a lot better than keeping it bottled up inside. I’ve seen soldiers swallow it down until they couldn’t stand it any longer. I won’t let that happen to you, too.”

You nodded in understanding, taking in a big breath before letting it out. “Okay. Okay, yeah. I’ll try… talking about it.”

“Good. You do that while I’ll clean this pig sty you call an office.”

You laughed for the first time in weeks. Levi felt himself smile softly at the joyous sound he had missed for so long, his heart beating a little quicker at the way your expression was lively once again.

Your venting session with Levi went extremely well. You felt like the weights had been lifted off your shoulders a little bit. Obviously you weren’t cured and knew these feelings were going to linger and could strike at any time, but it was nice knowing you had someone to turn to when things looked bleak. Your office, now spotless due to his efforts, also contributed to your mind feeling more organized.

“Four eyes has good advice, too, but you might get experimented on so be careful,” Levi said, making you laugh for the second time that day. Before he left, he made you swear that you would eat dinner. “I’ll personally drag your ass to the dining hall,” is specifically what he said, and you wholeheartedly believed him.

“Thanks again,” you told him as he reached for the door handle. “I genuinely don’t know what I would do without you.”

He froze.

“You’ll never have to know,” he eventually uttered, taking his leave.

Later that night, when your work was finished and your stomach was full of food, you huffed in annoyance when you remembered the state your room was in. Bracing yourself for the disappointing scene, you opened your door to:

A clean room?

You walked inside, confused as could be. Your sheets were back on your bed, everything crisply tucked in. Your clothes were put away, both hanging up and folded neatly in your dresser drawers. Even your gear, which was left covered in muck and dirt from your last training session, was shining as brightly as the day it was first issued to you.

There was only one person you knew who could clean that precisely and quickly.

Your attention was caught by a sachet of tea and a small piece of paper left on your nightstand. You picked up the note, a tear staining your cheek as you read the meticulous penmanship.

Here’s some of my favorite tea. It’s brought me comfort in the past so I hope the same for you.

If you don’t know how to brew it correctly, come find me.

Like I said before, take care of yourself.

I believe in you.

—Levi

[werecreature-addicted]

I mean, the definitive of elf is "a supernatural creature of folk tales, typically represented as a small, elusive figure in human form with pointed ears, magical powers, and a capricious nature."

And I think the "typically" and "in human form" leaves a lot of wiggle room here of how non-monster they REALLY are

for me the appealing thing about elves is the cultural differences between them and humans. It's interesting they live for so long and how that warps their perspective toward human life. having a baby at 35? absolutely batshit move to an elf. how desperate humans are to have every life experience while they still can, it's all so rushed, so needy and desperate it's almost degrading. of course, humans are violent and cutthroat. how else can you make a name for yourself in 80 short years? of course, elves look down on humans. they strip nature and burn it to the ground with no thought of the lasting consciences. nothing lasts long for them. why care when you'll be dead before the consequences of your actions come back to bite you?

but also. humans are fascinating. they take life so seriously, like every second counts. "this is going to be my year" they say. and it matters to them. they only have so many years left, they have to make this one count. it's a little inspirational, to see a human quit a job they hate to chase their dreams. that's right. life isn't meant to be wasted it's meant to be enjoyed. no matter how long or short it is.

what would it be to fall in love with someone like that? what would it be like for an elf to realize they care for a human, what a horrible fate to love something so fleeting. To be compatible for such a short time before adventuring isn't as fun anymore. whirlwind romance isn't as appealing as a steady stable love with someone who shares your values and your goals rather than someone exciting. to an elf, human relationships move at light speed. you've only just met and you're talking about settling down. moving in. starting a family. it's too fast. it's too much.

all this to say i don't give a FUCK what they look like give me elf angst.

[recreationalfanfics]

Yandere! Roman Sionis x Reader

Note: I have a huge crush on Roman Sionis (not the BoP version) so I wanted to try my hand at writing him <3 Also, I am going with the version where he can take the mask off.

Tw. Unhealthy Relationship Dynamics

Roman Sionis was a lot of things.

He was a trust fund kid who relied on daddy’s money all his life until he decided to take that money for himself.

He was a horrible business man so he turned into a mob boss, you know, as you do.

He was a whack job who had a sick and twisted obsession with you and was currently holding you captive.

But you honestly think that the worst part about him was that he was incredibly snarky and condescending. To you at least, his countless victims would most likely complain about his sadistic and brutal torture methods, but you doubt that you’d ever experience that for yourself. Mostly because Roman knew how to psychologically torture people in other ways.

“There we go, don’t you feel all pretty now?” He hummed, tilting his masked face and speaking in a way that made you know he was smirking. 

The scene is tense for everyone. His gangsters stand behind the other tailors who are sobbing quietly as they sit on one knee, you can feel the uneasiness of the two tailors behind you as they silently pray and beg repentance for every sin they’ve committed, but what makes it worse is that all eyes are on you. You want to avoid speaking, one of Roman’s favorite pastimes is to find a way to misinterpret your words on purpose so he could have an excuse to kill someone, to guilt you into thinking that you were the one who condemned them to death despite him pulling the trigger. You feel your stomach churn, knowing that someone was going to die for Roman’s own amusement, and he knew it too.

“C’mon, give Daddy a twirl, yeah?” He hums. 

Daddy.

You scrunch your nose in disgust. You absolutely hated it when he called himself that, it made you want to shrink into yourself, and rip your ears off so you’d never have to hear him say it again. He probably knew you hated it too, guessing by the way he chuckled at your incredibly obvious reaction, and it’s probably the only reason why he says it. Still, you do as he says because you have no choice and try to twirl for him enthusiastically. The last time you tried to be nonchalant about a gift as a form of subtle protest was when you were getting fitted for a ring, that resulted in one person losing their life and the employees getting all of their ring fingers cut off, and you know what Roman said to justify/blame it on you?

“You deserve only the best, sweetheart. If they can’t give it to you, then I don’t think they should be alive.”

Maybe in another life, where you were an equally depraved criminal, you would’ve found his words to be genuine and sweet. However, you knew that Roman Sionis was incapable of being genuine and sweet, and that this was another one of his mind games. A warning for future reference that if you wanna try and resist him, even in the most tiniest and insignificant ways, he will not stand for it. 

“Absolutely stunning.” He praises, standing up to walk towards you. 

You resist the urge to step away from him, no matter how strong it may be, because you know that’s another way to get someone killed. Instead you stand there, obediently like the good spouse you were, and don’t flinch when he brings a gloved hand to the diamond necklace around your neck.

“But you know me, I’m a sucker for you wearing anything expensive,” He says, almost in a tender tone as if there was some truth to his words, but you don’t think about that. Instead, you think about his next sentence:

“What do you think about it?”

You gulp and you look up at him, your eyes silently begging him not to do this to you. Not to make you have to stand outside the shop as you hear gunshots and crying, shamelessly throwing his arm around you with small droplets of blood decorating his nice white suit, and leaving you lying away from his body as your haunted by what you could have done differently even if you knew Roman wouldn’t have let you. His dark eyes stare back at you with nothing but a mischievous glee and you were on higher alert than ever.

“I love it!” You say, forcing your best smile and cheery tone.

He fidgets with your necklace between his fingers, his eyes now studying the way the diamond sparkles rather than your incredibly unconvincing expression, and he just says: “Yeah? That right?”

 Still, you nod eagerly and continue to try and guess what he wants to hear: “Yeah, it looks really good on me, I think! I really like the style, a-and the material, and the uh-” You lose your train of thought as he slowly lets go of the diamond hanging from the sterling silver chain, letting it fall back down to your chest as he slowly starts to walk behind you, and the goosebumps start to rise on your skin. You didn’t like this, you didn’t like this at all, but you still tried your best to keep going, “the, um, the color is nice.”

“The color, hm?” He mumbles, his hands gently massaging your shoulders as he lowers his mouth (or where it’s supposed to be) next to your ear, “You sure about the color, sweet thing?”

You nod your head again, giving a shrill “mhm!” because your words are dying in your throat. You hated it when he got too close like this, it made you nervous, and you wanted him to get away from you. You wanted to push him off, to scream and run, but you also knew you couldn’t do that. His silence made the very blood in your veins run cold but set your mind on fire as you were trying to figure out how to salvage this already doomed moment. 

“Really? Because you hate this color.” Roman states, his hands moving from your shoulders to your waist.

Someone’s sobs become a little louder than the rest and when Roman turns his head to look at them, you quickly turn around to face him again and put your hands on his chest. It does what you intended it to do because his eyes are back on you.

“I changed my mind!” 

“Nah, I don’t think you did. If I recall, you absolutely hate this color because it reminds you of me.”

There’s an edge to his voice now, a petty “gotcha” kind of one. He wasn’t wrong, though, because he tried to give you something in the same horrendous color early on when he abducted you and you blew him off. Saying how you wouldn’t want something so gross and so…him. You gulp, realizing two things: 1. Roman had an excellent memory regarding you and 2. You just lied to his face. 

And he hated it even more when you lied.

You stammer out apologies and excuses, anything that could help the situation but he steps away from you before taking out his concealed gun. One of the workers lets out a fearful cry and tries to back away but one his False Facers comes and grabs them by their shoulders, walking closer towards Roman despite the fearful protest of the poor innocent civilian. They were going to be the first one to die.

“I mean, c’mon, none of ya had the decency to look at how unhappy they were when they saw the color? None of you guys stopped to ask them what was wrong and fix it and put a smile on their precious little face?” He shakes his head as he loads his weapon. They beg for their lives as you try to plead with the devil himself.

“Roman, please, they probably didn’t want to go against you! Th-They knew that you knew best and I- I promise I love this color-” 

You sound so pathetic, yipping at the big dog not to use his fangs, but you had no power here. No one did except for Roman Sionis, a man who never did anything other than to get more power for himself and to make others miserable, even the one he claimed to love the most. 

Then it hits you.

Your body reacts faster than your mind as you take the fleeting opportunity to have one hand grab his mask and the other to grab his tie. Not even Roman was aware of what was happening as he tensed up the moment he felt your lips against his. You gripped the mask tightly in your free hand as you kept a strong hold on his tie, even pulling him closer towards you as if you were trying to chain him to you. As if forcing yourself to do this usually romantic and loving act is enough to break his need for blood. And it does.

Once Roman understands what’s going on, he drops his gun and cups your face with his hands as he kisses you back. Tilting his head to the side to deepen it and his body relaxes. You might not see it but you cloud your mind completely. His eyes stay open for a while as he sees one beautiful tear stream down your cheek before they go half lidded and he surrenders himself to this bliss.

You’re making his heart do the thing again.  You did it to him the first time he met you, then you did it the second time, then so on and so forth, and here you go doing it again to him. You wonder why he’s so addicted to you, don’t worry, he does too. He wonders why he bothers with such an ungrateful little brat who doesn’t appreciate his gestures and only pays attention to the crimson that stains his hands, why he bothers with someone who sleeps on the farthest part of their bed as if Roman was some horrible monster they didn’t want to touch, but it’s times like this that he remembers why. It’s because you were the only one who could make him feel this way, who could give him a taste of what love felt like, but also made him feel so powerful when you did stuff like this as a last resort.He pulls away for air, your lips chase after him despite being out of breath as well to try and buy a little more time, but he’s just gonna tease you later and ask if he was just that damn good of a kisser. 

Roman stares at you again, this time really looking at you, and his hands still cup your face gently. His pants softly under his breath as one thumb from his hand gently caresses your cheek. You stare at him with hopeful eyes and while he does love keeping you at the bottom of his heel and remind you whose in charge…he figures that this time it wouldn’t hurt to let you have your way.

“On second thought, boys,” He starts and he loves the way you edge closer to him unintentionally, “...Let ‘em go, they can be off the hook. This time.”

You let out a breath of relief but then shyly hand Roman back his mask, your hand letting go of his tie and wrapping your arm around his. As he puts on his mask, he relishes in the feeling of you resting your head on his shoulder and being more affectionate with him. Maybe you were so relieved that you managed to get through to him or maybe you were just exhausted with everything that went down but you fall asleep on his shoulder during the ride home and when he’s done admiring the sight, he gently puts his head on top of yours.

[thoundcarriers]

another au coming up. rambling under the cut as usual lmao

so previously I was talking about fusetrap William here.

After divorce w\ his wife, years later Will finally meets his soulmate, Henry. They marry each other and live happily together, and they keep a restaurant. William Emily-Afton, guys!

They work on a project they both wanted to come to life, yet they manage to complete only one animatronic. Henry's health worsens (whether it's a natural illness or something that possibly poisons him while working w\ materials, I haven't decided yet, lol.), and he has to put up with it, as Will takes care of him.

Henry dies, and William is broken. He promises his late husband to finish the work, even if he has to cheat death itself.

He somewhat prolongs his life by infusing his own body with an endoskeleton, but he's not human anymore, and he understands it, but he doesn't care. He's just somewhat content that his experiment worked, as he continues to work on animatronics daily.

Michael Afton, his son from his first marriage, doesn't hear anything about his father since Henry's death. He is eternally upset with him leaving the family, but still wants to find him.

He finds him in that horrible state, obsessed with work and numb to the world. Michael wants to talk, but William only snaps back, if he wants to help, at least he could bring metal parts he needs.

Michael is disgusted by his looks and what he's done, but he visits him often and starts to help him.

Finishing his last fourth animatronic, William feels his newly body wouldn't be able to take it anymore. He stops the work and spends time with Michael instead, talking things out and just being with his son. He even feels something that resembles happiness again.

All work is finished, William is buried next to Henry. Michael transports animatronics to the restaurant, but has no will to take care about it. Instead, he finds Will's and Henry's old family friend he heard them talking about, Vanny. She's more then happy to take a manager position, as she was struggling with finding a job for a long time. The work is tough and tiresome, but she loves it. She loves animatronics. My girl is happy, look how sweet she is! heh, that's pretty much it. thank you so much for reading. ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა