#yandere themed asks

[untoldstar]

I miss Warner so much how would he behave (if at all) if he found out the reader is poor & can't afford quality food?

male rich! yandere x poor fem!reader

warnings: stalking, yandere themes, obsessive behavior, control (basically of the readers life)

If you thought he was persistent before you won't believe the lengths he would go to if he found out you were poor. Aside from the luxuries he gifts you he also worms his way into every aspect of your life, completely turning your life around.

After a long shift, you'd find a hot meal waiting for you in the kitchen, at the end of the week your apartment is sparkling and your fridge is stocked with groceries for you, and of course, he can't help spoiling you even more with designer bags, clothes, you name it! After all, you only deserve the best. His beautiful darling.

Now, If it were up to him he'd have you living with him but seeing as you are far too stubborn he takes care of your rent, maintenance, and cleaning.

Of course, if you get too tired of living there, a fully furnished mansion waiting for you. As much as he wants you living with him he would still much rather you live somewhere he personally set up for you where he can watch you even more closely than in your apartment.

You will never forget the time you were walking out of your workplace and you saw a car waiting for you in the parking lot, a red ribbon decorating it. Just then your phone dings with a text message.

"Do you like it? I thought something like this would suit you. If you want another model just say the word, love."

You huff then roll your eyes when you hear your coworkers squealing and fawning over the gift behind you near the entrance.

He watches you as you constantly reject his advances and refuse his help (when you can anyway) and he can't help the frustration that slowly bubbles up in him over time. Can't you see? All he wants is to give you the life you deserve. Why won't you accept him?!

It's alright. He'll give you the entire world if that's what it takes. Either way, you're his.

[threepandas]

Bad End: Eve

You know how most Otome games are vaguely historical? Usually some non-specific mishmash of European countries? But fluffier and with more bows? It had once "gotten" to me, I think. I remember looking for outliers. Non-joke ones. Something that wasn't just "but this time with hats!"

I found one.

And now? Now I'm not sure if I curse that day or thank whatever force of nature lead me there. I guess... I guess it depends. Would I still have ended up HERE? If I had not found it? If so, then I genuinely and actually fucking rue it. Like... like actual "you'll rue the day! Bwahaha!" Type rue it. That's me. Ruing.

But? If it was always going to happen?

Then I guess...

I guess I'm weirdly glad. Because at least I have some fucking idea of what's going ON. Terrible, as it all is. Fucked, as the situation is. At least I'm not... not confused. Blind and at the mercy of those around me. Ignorance truely isn't bliss. All it does is leave you to try an fill in the blanks yourself. Usually with something far worse.

Not that the situation could GET much worse, by much.

I was in an Otome game. NOT a flower, high society, and dragons kind either. No. I? Was in a Dark Sci-Fi otome game. "Fate of man" was thrown around a lot. Power of luuuuv~ and such. Also, you know, HORRIFIC ethical violations. Human experimentation. Cataclysmic events and humanity "starting over".

All the high drama sci-fi concepts you could expect. It was a romp. Had good art. I'd had fun! Which is why I remember it so clearly.

Less fun when you're IN IT.

When you AREN'T one of the characters you KNOW will survive.

In fact, are one of the characters you know WON'T fucking survive. And will probably die MESSY. Horribly. Cause see, our BELOVED Harem collecting Protagonist? She? Was AN Eve. "AN".

Take a wild fucking guess what THAT project is about.

Did you say "breeding a better race of humans"? Ding ding ding! With humanity currently fucked, they want to FIX the problem by FIXING humanity. And of course, fuck ethics! Volunteers? Why use those?! Let's horrifically mad scientist our way to atrocity-ville! Make it all the more "God rightfully punishing us for our unforgivable sins" when we get wiped out!

Fffffffuck YOU, plot! I have to live here too!

You may, in fact, be picking up a slight note of stir crazy. A "wow, this lady rambles like a mother fucker" vibe. You would TOO, if you were stuck in a FUCKING TUBE. All I can do, day in and day out? Is wake, think, observe, then go right back to sleep. I can't even eat! I got a TUBE for that!

I... I miss showers.

Everything is GOO.

I'm an Eve. And if it weren't for the air tube controlng my breathing? I'd laughing hysterically until I died. And no, not in the "oh how funny" way. God. Oh... oh god. What a way to die. NONE of the Eves survive "the program".

Those IDIOTS are so OBSESSED with making bigger and bigger, better and better, FUCKING JUGGERNAUTS? That the Adams? Have long since reached the point of "mindless killing machine". UNSTABLE is putting it lightly. There is sexual dimorphism and then there's literal incompatibility.

But GOD FORBID the scientists admit that THEY are the ones with the inferior product.

It... it was even part of the game's plot. The scientist who made "Eve" HID her while HE made an Adam. I do not have that luxury. Somewhere, there is an unstable BESERKER being told I'm his "wife". That we're going to be HAPPY together. That he'll get to put his bruising, blood soaked hands anywhere he WANTS... just after he WINS me from the other Adam's.

Got to prove HE'S the best specimen, after all.

It makes my skin crawl. All I can hope, is that I can either provoke the bastard enough to kill me before they have a chance to stop him, or? I use my own enhanced strength to snap my neck. Maybe bite my tounge. Like HELL am I letting an Adam get near me.

The hiss of laboratory doors.

"Perfection at last..." Comes a relieved sigh. "All those HIDEOUS specimens. Why they make me suffer them, I'll never understand. We should have terminated them months ago. My poor project, they really think they're WORTHY of you..."

There's a derisive laugh. The scientist strolling into the lab I've been developing in, familiar. I watch him casually shrug off his lab coat and dump is bag. Hang his coat over the back of his chair. Turn, as he does each day, to STARE up at me. His eyes are a pale, pale purple the likes of which I've never seen before.

They're HAUNTING.

There is almost a red tint to them, though maybe that's the lights. The goo. I can never tell. He always looks ENTRANCED by me. Floating, visored, connected to far too many tubes an' wires. I'd think it was the fact that I was naked if it weren't for the way his gaze doesn't seem to drift lower then my shoulders. Seems more entranced by the way my hair moves, as though under water.

I've never once heard him talk about me lustfully.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't SCARE me.

"Let's begin, shall we? Time for your daily doses, mmm?" He says, voice dangerously affectionate. As though i had CHOSEN to do this to myself. As though he were merely reminding me of my morning medicine and not the hell ahout to come. "Going to be good for me? I know you shall, you always are."

He turned back to his desk, his computer. A few keystrokes... and I could feel the pod above me begin to hum, as it awoke. Oh god. Oh god it never got easier. From the corner of my eyes, bright chemicals slide down thind lines and into my veins. Like lines of lava. Bolts of electricity and pain. It was... AGONY.

My muscles seized. Brain screeched, first to the screaming I wish I could make... then static. With the long practice of daily pain, it took me far away. The click, click, click of keys. The sound of his voice, so terribly PLEASED, as I hung there and just TOOK it. No restraints, no strugging, no damaging myself. Just unbearable fire in my veins and a brain far, far away.

"Good girl~"

Distantly a phone rang. He made an annoyed sound, but picked up regardless.

"What. I'm in the middle of- ...Excuse me? I'm quite sure I did not hear you correctly. I said 'NO'. She's not-....I will NOT BE-...What. Are you out of your god damned MIND? That pile of scraps you call a project is coming NOWHERE near my-! ....you think you're clever, don't you?"

"Fine. You want to TALK? Let's TALK, Anderson. I'll be there in five."

From far away, past the pain, I watched him chance down at something at the screen. Back up to me. He hung up the phone but did not pause the program. Instead, calmly rising from his desk. Shrugging on his lab coat. Rounding the desk and striding towards my bio-tube.

"Hmmm, honestly, it should have been spaced out over a few more days... but you can take it. Endure a bit longer for me, would you, darling? Daddy's going to go deal with something for just a moment, he'll be right back, my perfect girl. Be good."

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to my tank. One hand splayed next to it like he badly wished he could touch. Could stroke skin. Hold his creation close. It was not the first time he had done this. Small, covetous, little actions like he wanted to crawl inside my skin and STAY there. Like he cursed the glass that separated us.

He pulled back. Shifted to the side and kneeled. He... had hidden something behind my bio-pod? When? Apparently before I had become aware. Because I had not known about it. A black shoe box. I watched him open i-GUN. Thaaaat was a gun! Fuck. Well at least? By the time anyone thinks to look in on me? The overdose will probably have killed me?

There is a cold, terrible smile on his face as he rolls to his face. Tucking the gun into an inner pocket. It has a silencer. He leans forward one last time. Lightly kissing the glass of my pod, as though heading off to work and not to very obviously kill somebody. The pain continues. Builds. I watch him leave.

With nothing to anchor myself on... time blurs.

I think? There are alarms? Red lights flash. Then they stop. There is shouting at one point. But then silence. An explosion? Or am I hallucinating? Pain. My nerves are on fire. I don't want to have SKIN. Please... please make it STOP! Calm foot steps? Come to kill me? Please come to kill me. Make it STOP.

The lights died a... time? Ago? Emergency lights on now. Generators in the room are loud. Why can I still hear the feet? Footses? Words. H..hurts. please.

Click.

The pain eases to a stop. Aching but nothing new. Over? Oh, thank god. I can sleep now, right? But... sound? New. At my feet. Gurgling. Wha-? The very top of my head feels cold. Then my forehead. Then my temple's and ears, cheeks, jaw... wait. Is? Is the tube...DRAINING? I open my eyes.

When did I close them?

He's back.

Standing right in front of the tube. Blood staining the hem of his coat, lingering marks of his massacre cleaned but not quite scrubbed from his body. There are little off red stains on his cheek, from what must be blood splatter. They look like tiny freckles.

I'm... I can't...

I reach as the tube down my throat is pulled almost carelessly away by the machine. Choke, suffocate, as the same is done for my air tube. But then it's done... and I can BREATHE under my own power. Gasp and splutter, as the goo sloshes around my knees. Then it's gone. And the tube I've been leaning my weight against is roughly pulled away.

I collapse forward, my muscles having never actually supported me in this life.

Arms catch me. Wrapping me in a possessive hug. A hand immediately burying itself in long uncut hair, even as the other wraps itself around my torso to lean me against his body in a cradle. My face is pressed to his neck by the hand in my hair, cradling my head and neck. I can feel breath against the goo wet crown of my head.

"Finally~" he breaths out, whispering it against me like a sigh. "My beautiful, perfect girl. My darling creation. It took so LONG. Those retrobates interfering at every turn, lusting after you like ANIMALS, trying to keep you from me. Then, worst of all, trying to toss you to some pack of savages? Oh, darling~ Daddy's been so worried for you."

"But we'll be okay now, won't we? I finally have you. All fresh and finally finished. My perfect Eve. You can pick any name you want, of course. You and I will be leaving this ugly little place. Daddy has PLANS. A fresh new world, just for you, sweetheart."

He laughed, his hug tightening in a way that would have left bruises had I been a normal human. Kisses were pressed to my temple. A cheek, rubbed against my hair. He seemed... seemed GIDDY with it. That nothing could stop him now. There was no glass in his way. I could not move yet. My muscles twitched when I tried, but that was it. I wasn't even sure I could talk yet, if I tried.

"Aaah~♡ Welcome to the World, Darling. My Perfection. My Eve. This time no snakes or Adams to tarnish you. To get in your way. Just you and your Father~"

"FOREVER~♡"

Next: ->

[gladiatorcunt]

i’m thinking about modern!coryo again… ‘n the way he’d just love humiliating you. when you’ve been particularly bratty (let’s be real, any time you tell him no he thinks you’re being defiant… no matter the circumstances), he loves to shove your face into the mattress so your ass is facing him, and grip your hips, teasing his cock against your entrance until you’re whining and begging for him to fuck you. but he doesn’t! he just lets his cock slap against your clit and tease your slick hole until you’re soaking your panties. his favourite thing though, is filming you take his cock, because even though he’d never let anybody see the videos (besides maybe his friends), he gets off on the way you’re whining for him to put the phone away as he fills you up, pearly cum sliding down your soft thighs. but he won’t, because he just loves the way you’re absolutely humiliated at the thought of somebody seeing how much of a whore you are for him

CW: anal, sejanus mention (throuple au tease), typical coryo type warnings, yandere/possessive & obsessive behavior, gn reader but there is feminization (reader calls themselves a "good girl", coryo calls your pussy "sweet girl" & assigns it she/her pronouns), blood (coryo has a fantasy of you tearing), accidental slight pet play/dumbification, my modern coryo's typical inability to understand/care about poor(er) people, the ending is inspired by ghostface's finishing move in dbd, implied plus sized reader (who's afab) he loves you really.

So true, you could do something as small as say “i want to be alone in the bathroom for 5 minutes” and he’d lose his shit. Something about that arrogant rich boy behavior turned up to 100 because he’s inherently a psycho….. like he loves you deeply but wdym his prized possession has a mind of their own (if you just decided to do everything he wants, he’d support you making your own decisions). His whole vibe was being untouchable and unavailable but now it’s coming apart. Like do you know how much he planned to hoe around when his family inevitably made him get married??? But now you’ve fucked it all up and made him feel like he’s constantly writhing around in every circle of hell fr.

So yeah, he can’t take it if he feels like you aren’t “putting in as much effort” as he is. And i don’t mean that he’d be pissed if you’re not cooking or cleaning, i mean that he’d be peeved if you weren’t matching his energy (batshit balls to wall insane). He’ll do a little cute open palm wave like “Hi, baby 🥰” when you look at him over your shoulder with tears in your eyes. King of false sympathy with all the cooing and mocking your facial expression (which you wouldn’t even have to make if you were behaving). His weird ass is completely naked even though he made you keep your clothes on, and he tore a hole in your leggings with his teeth for easy access.

He’ll put his dick in between your ass cheeks and fuck you like that until the sheets are soaked because you got so desperate (you nearly pissed yourself). He’ll press the head against your asshole and see how deep he can get before you realize that he’s using the wrong whole. Sometimes he wishes that he’d tug his cock from your hole to find the whole thing covered in blood. If you catch on him, he’ll just say that it was an accident. But to be real, you knew immediately. It just gets you hot watching him go on his little power trips. The pleasure of letting your rabid dog off of his leash but he thinks it’s his idea does something to you that you’re currently ignoring.

The iPhone camera you can see from the standing mirror by your bed doesn’t exactly catch you off guard. Coryo’s got a fair few videos of you getting backshots in his family’s limo and even more of him devouring your pussy anytime and anywhere he pleases. Your stomach rolls with shame but your pussy clenches in arousal. A big part of being able to handle being his s/o means having the ability to straddle the line between calling his bluff and baring your neck in submission. So you just whine pleadingly and let your head fall forward onto the pillow.

You'd never admit that there are times where you'd be perfectly happy if your ass was all he fucked; that on mornings when the sunlight beams down on you as Coryo pushes the velvet curtains from the large penthouse windows and all you can see out of the eye that's not smothered in the pillow is your boyfriend in a pair of gray sweatpants, you feel feral with the need to swallow his cock all the way to the base and lie there forever.

A "love tap" to your clit brings you out of your thirsting. When all you do is gasp, you receive a firmer strike.

"Don't tell me you're already out of it? Did I make my smart baby all stupid already?"

"Hngh~ Uh huh, don't stop..." You beg, the carefully maintained image of the prim and proper perfect student crumbling under his touch.

Your need to be praised and to have male approval can really be a curse sometimes, because outside of the bedroom you don't let yourself be as willing of a kept pet as Coryo wants. But as soon as you're alone, you gratefully sink into the safe space he creates for you where you can just... let go and have someone else think for you for a change.

It feels like bolts of electricity go through you when two of his fingers start to trace letters on your pussy lips. It makes you think of his family crest branded on the gates of their mansions.

C-O-R-I-O-L-A-N-U-S S-N-O-W, pinching your clit after every letter. (training)

"That's okay, I like you dumb anyway. Can't use that big brain to think about anything else but me when I get this dick in you." He says and wags it in his hands at you like it's a treat.

The bed creaks as he sits back on his heels, and like a good girl you parts your legs as far as they can go.

Welcome Home.

The heavy weight of his palms clutching your hips calms any lingering anxiety, his nails bite into your flesh but you know he'll be licking and nuzzling the marks soothingly later. He's told you how beautiful you are in the beginning, that he relishes in the way you give up all tension to him with a sigh; that one of his favorite versions of you is the you that shuts down. Has him feeling like the "family man" he always vowed to never turn into.

"Now, you know the drill, take a deep breath..." He pants, somehow already pussy drunk, "It's going to be a tight fit, dove."

His grip tightens as he feeds his tip to your clenching hole, you soak in the mutters of 'aw, I missed you too, sweet girl.' You know he wasn't talking to you.

Your breath hitches when you start taking him past the tip, and like always, Coryo wraps a hand around the nape of your neck and massages it to distract you from the inevitable sting of pain. It'll always be there no matter how much of a mess he's made of your cunt.

"That's my dumb bunny, biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiig stretch." He grunts, dragging his words out when the thickest part of his cock comes to greet you.

You moan when he takes his other hand off of your hip to reach it around and rub your twitching clit. More juices drip from your hole, making the remaining inches slide in a lot easier.

You hear shuffling and the bed creaks as Coryo leans over to grab something off the nightstand. He quickly finds what he's looking for and settles back into position behind you. He gropes one of your ass cheeks and gives it a couple long squeezes before he jiggles it, letting out a low whistle when he does it again.

You mewl impatiently, clenching your pussy around his long cock. He doesn't give you what you want, however, until almost a minute later. He jostles his hips against your ass, showing off for the camera that's focused down on where the two of you are connected.

Coryo's head shoots up when he hears you sniffle, and even though he could tease about how much of a needy whore you are, you're HIS needy whore so he only smiles.

"Alright, alright. 'M sorry, petal, I know your pussy's gagging for this dick. I'll give her what she wants, don't you worry."

Your mouth falls open on a silent moan as he leisurely drags his length out of you until the tip catches on your entrance; being forced to be broken down and rebuilt around it until you both turn to ash. He has never wanted anything more than he wants you to somehow grow to only survive of his own body. His blood would be your water, his very dna would be your floss, his bone marrow would soothe your raw throat, his organs would be your snacks, his bones would be your jewelry, his teeth would be your little trinkets, and his surrounding flesh would be your every meal until you could eat no more.

You have no idea how much of your boyfriend's time has been spent making sure he tastes delectable, in every way.

Like those people from Pompei who are forever immortalized in the arms of their lover, chained to the passage of time but the eyes that dust them off are the only things about them that change.

You made him watch Titanic once, saying that your MasterChef binge could be paused for a night. He huffed but complied, and gun to his head, he wiped his tears on the arm of the couch before you could notice that he was crying. Rose could've done a little more to help Jack in his opinion (they both could have fit on the wood), he'd have never just let you go like that. But there was something in the way all they really had in the world was each other, in how calm the old couple was as the water creeped into their room; because they were together, and to Coryo, death after a very very long and happy life is an experience that's meant to be shared (no matter the circumstances).

His body has been moving on autopilot during his usual mid-sex spiral monologue. There's ringing in his ears as he tunes back into your hiccup-y whines and high-pitched moans (he loved when you stopped being so fucking shy). His thrusts had gradually sped up until they were at the speed they were now, your bodies now making wet smacking sounds as his dick pulverizes your pussy. He had been so lost in thought that he nearly dropped his phone, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that it was still recording.

He removes his death grip on your ass cheek to slap your swaying tits one after the other. He can never resist showing love to the chub of your tummy either, so he hits that too.

"Yeah, you like that, bunny?" He sneers, tonguing your ear and gnawing at the lobe as the excess saliva trickles down the valley of your breasts.

It's a rhetorical question, of course you do.

But you answer, using your words like he often "urges" you to.

"Like it so much, Coryo.... fuck!"

His thrusts become even faster, and he gathers as much of your hair in his hand as possible. Your moans cut off into a gasp as he wrenches your head up off the pillow by your hair, bringing the phone around to put your tear-stained face into frame.

You're helpless to do anything but take every inch he slams inside your puffy cunt, which will no doubt be sore and red by the time Coryo's done with his latest fit. He bends down to whisper in your ear about braindead you look, sobbing with your eyes glazed over and your mouth gaping.

"Shh, that's it, keep going baby. It's all about you, these'll just be fun memories so I can have little parts of you forever, so you could never really leave me."

You never look away from the camera though, and he's suddenly overcome with so much gratitude that he uses his grip on your hair to bring you into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss; your tongues making it so wet you'd think he'd been eating your pussy nonstop with how soaked the lower half of his face gets.

He doesn't let you pull away, the impulsive french kissing only ends so he can lean his head against yours and get into the shot with you. He's smiling so warmly like you're taking a selfie on one of your numerous vacations, but his hips never stop their rough assault on your already thoroughly debauched pussy. Coryo tightens his hold on your hair and pecks your round cheek when you whimper due to the sting.

"Smile, petal."

The videos are kept in a locked folder on his phone titled “💍💒", and while he threatens to show his friends (in actuality he’d only show sejanus in some version of this au where he’s trying to force him into a throuple), he’ll apologize with his tongue swirling around your sensitive nipples once he feels like you’ve learned your lesson. If you’re really upset, he’ll offer to make up to you on his father’s yacht in Greece. (he has your bags packed already)

faetreides 2024. request rules. please consider tipping/reblogging if you enjoyed!

[blindmagdalena]

im so ❤️❤️ for creepy homelander rn! like stalker homelander, panty stealer, watching you sleep vibes.,,,,., my heart is full

he's just so terribly good at it.

who else is going to walk you home at night? it's dangerous out here for a pretty thing like you. it's okay that you can't see him. all that matters is that he can see you.

honestly it's cute how clueless you are. what would you do without him? he's been outside your place countless times and yet not once have you ever noticed him. he starts to feel bold. he wonders if maybe you do know, you just don't mind.

it makes leaving your window open seem like an invitation.

it's surreal to be inside the home he's watched from a distance. everything smells like you, but it doesn't stop him from picking up your shirt and pressing it to his mouth to take a deep huff. soft. everything about you is so damn soft.

especially when you sleep. he cocks his head while he stands there at the edge of your bed, watches you for a long while. your heart is steady, breaths shallow. you must be deep asleep then, dreaming away. dreaming of him, he hopes. he certainly dreams of you.

being so close is too much of a temptation. he wets his lips with a quick slide of his tongue and bends down. he ghosts his fingers just over your cheek, not quite daring to touch. he can smell the faint remnants of your toothpaste on your breath, your shampoo, and beneath it all, you. fuck, it's intoxicating, it's...

he brushes his lips ever so gently between your brows, his own breaths matching the cadence of yours. divine. you're divine. so unwittingly perfect. you don't even know. you have no idea.

he means to leave it there, but the pull is too great. he's greedy, drunk on the smell and the taste of you, and he can't stop himself from sampling your lips against his. soft, soft, soft. he knew they would be.

he's aching, yearning so intensely he could rip the covers away and take you just like this, shake you awake and declare himself and finally have you.

not yet.

he leaves, but not empty handed. he doesn't think you'll miss that pair of panties. not as much as he'll enjoy them.

[inkblot22]

Give You Something To Cry About

Yay, my time management skills continue to be straight ass. Sorry to the anon who has waited so patiently for this, and thank you so much for giving me an excuse to write this depraved ball of snot. Headers by @/cafekitsune. Also don't believe everything you see on the internet, there's no scientific proof that certain things work for your skin. I think Vil would know that, considering.

This Fic Is For: Anyone who can handle it! Once again, I tried to make it as gn as possible, considering Rook's use of Franglais, but I'm delusional and will say I did exactly that. Reader is referred to with they/them pronouns, and no real allusions to specific body parts are made for them.

TW for DEAD DOVE, DO NOT EAT, forced dieting, non/dubcon, mentions of death, questionable use of magic, captivity, someone has a case of dacryphilia and a strong sadist streak, won't say who, Rook Hunt because he freaks me out, unhealthy relationship dynamics, abuse, forced BDSM if you squint, I feel so bad for the reader in this one, toxic relationships, possibly OOC characters.

“I am not going to tell you again, my love.” Vil bends down to get in your face, already wearing his ceremonial robe and heels. He points a finger in your face, like you’re a small child or a dog, “If you continue to pick at your skin, I am going to let Rook punish you this time.”

You swallow and look away, and Vil pinches your cheeks between his thumb and fingers, pulling your head so you’re looking at him again. His violet eyes bore into you, and you swallow again.

He looks offended, almost, “Well? Have you forgotten basic manners? Speak.”

Your voice sounds dry and weak, “Yes, Vil. I understand.”

He seems satisfied enough with that, moving around as he continues to prepare for whatever school-wide assembly is happening today. He elegantly tucks his hair behind his ear and sighs, scrolling through some page on his phone.

You remain standing where you are, turning your head to look out the window. It’s so pretty outside, but you only get to leave this room whenever Rook is watching you or Vil sends you on an errand. It’s always spring, never too hot, never too cold, but you’re sweating anyway.

Vil approaches you again and tilts your face back so you’re looking at him with a hand on your cheek. His eyes narrow a fraction.

“Your skin doesn’t seem to like this foundation. Make sure you discard it today; I’ll get you a new one.” He bends down again, this time to press a chaste kiss to your lips. He rubs his own together after pulling away and smudges his thumb over your bottom lip, “Hmm. What lipgloss is this?”

Your voice doesn’t sound so dry, but it still doesn’t sound like you, “Uh… The dark red one with the metallic purple? ‘Electric Berry’?

He’s silent for a second, just staring down at your lips as he cups your chin, and then he sighs and turns away, “It’s sticky. I’d tell you to wash your face and reapply your makeup, but that’d be a waste. Make sure you put on lip balm next time.”

You swallow, “Yes, Vil. I understand.”

“I have to get going now. You’d better be at least halfway done with that list by the time I return.” He breezes towards the door and gives you a last, long look. He’s completely silent before he leaves, closing the door behind him.

Your palms ache. You stiltedly wander towards the list pinned in the closet, glad to see it’s not insane today. All you need to do is tidy the bathroom and skim through Vil’s mail to see if it’s anything but hate mail or advertisements. Tack on getting rid of that foundation and that’s it, at least until he returns at lunch.

You relished this time to yourself, even if it was just cleaning or whatever else. Vil always said that motion is good for you, a structure does the mind good. You didn’t care much anymore. As you sat down to search through his mail, finding nothing but the usual hate mail and what appears to be a poem from Rook (why did he even mail that? He’s not even down the hall from this room,) you catch yourself craving something sweet.

The diet Vil has you on sucks. He has assured you that your body is lovely, and he is having you eat like this to help clear your skin, but really you just want something. Anything, you’d even take a breath mint over this lack of junk food. You’re young, what young person doesn’t enjoy gratuitously unhealthy food? A basket of french fries? Ice cream? 

You frown to yourself and toss the last of the mail into the recycle bin. You know he’s just going to check it over again anyway, but at least you’re moving around. That’s what he would say.

By the time you’re almost done scrubbing the tub, you hear the door open. You don’t want to go greet him, so you pretend you didn’t hear anything and keep cleaning, making sure to disinfect the non-slip mat that resembles a bunch of ugly gems glued together. 

You hear him clicking towards you, and his hand rests on your shoulder, “Going above and beyond today? I have lunch, come eat.”

You school your expression and stand up, pulling off your cleaning gloves and hanging them on the rim of the tub before you follow Vil. He ensconces himself in his desk chair, leaving you to awkwardly lift the stool near his vanity. He hates it when you push the furniture.

He clucks his tongue, not even looking at you, “Lift with your knees, darling. As much as I’d love to massage your back if you pull something, I simply don’t have the time.”

You can’t help it. You shoot him the nastiest glare you can muster as you lift with your knees, right as his eyes flick up to meet yours. You nearly drop the chair as his lips curl into a cold smirk.

“Do you have something to say?”

You hastily shake your head, “No, Vil-”

“Then don’t allow me to see that expression on your face again.” He bites, “Come sit down.”

You put the stool down a little harder than you mean to and take a seat beside Vil at his desk. He passes you your nice little container containing one of several things he gets you- a pile of leafy greens and chopped veggies on a bed of quinoa, fresh fruit, and a murky green smoothie topped with chia seeds.

 You don’t like chia seeds. They remind you of frog eggs- a bunch of slimy lumps, sliding down your throat. You accept the straw Vil passes to you and stir the smoothie before eating in silence.

Vil doesn’t mind if you don’t thank him for feeding you. Since he’s keeping you here, it’s pretty much the least he could do. Still, it doesn’t make up for hearing about his boring day.

“This morning’s assembly was complete and utter chaos, as usual.” He muses, sipping his own smoothie. It’s a soft purple. “It’s ridiculous. Those brutes never wear their robes correctly.”

You don’t respond. There’s two reasons: first of all, you don’t care, and secondly, there’s a knock at the door. Vil hums, as though he’s been waiting for someone, and turns to face the door.

“Who is it?”

That boisterous voice you are so used to hearing echoes past the door, “‘Tis I, Roi du Poison. I have come to join you for lunch.”

You can hear the smile in Vil’s voice, “Oh, of course. Come in.”

As Rook walks in, you feel a stab of jealousy in your chest. He takes a breezy seat on the loveseat in front of Vil’s bed and glances at you. You break eye contact and dully pick at your salad.

Vil treats Rook so nicely. He considers his feelings and opinions, although he doesn’t always listen. He speaks to him as though he’s a person. You suppose Vil’s obvious care for Rook trickles down to you in some capacity, but it hurts. Vil claims that the two of you are lovers, but really you’re more like a doll.

“Do you mind meeting me in the lab later on, Rook?”

Rook chuckles from where he is and you cast another glance at him. His eyes meet yours, again, and you look away, again.

“I can always make time for you, beautiful Vil.”

You lamely pick at the fruit, having finished the salad, before you decide to save it for last. You take a sip of your smoothie after stirring it again and openly recoil, trying not to cough. You didn’t smell it, but there must be ginger in there, because there’s a mellow burn alongside the bitterness from the kale. It makes your eyes water and settles in behind your nose.

“Mmm. Something wrong?” Vil smiles at you.

You shake your head, blinking rapidly so you don’t start crying. There’s not enough tears to fall, but taking your chances is stupid, “No, Vil. The ginger just caught me off guard.”

“Oh. My apologies, I should have warned you. I don’t want you catching a cold, and you’ve been a little irregular. The smoothie also has spinach, kale, avocado, chia seeds, and, of course, a little mango.”

You nod and force yourself to smile, taking another sip and soldiering past the rush of that aromatic pain in your sinuses. “Oh, thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, darling.” Vil turns away from you to speak to Rook again, “What else did you have planned?”

“I thought I might take a walk. It is a wonderful day, non?” There’s a slight mocking tone to Rook’s voice, “Hardly the type of day to be cooped up all day, hmm?”

Vil furrows his eyebrows as you choke down the last of the smoothie. His voice is curt, “You can say what you mean.”

“Est-ce que je peux? You are not very open to suggestion.”

Vil narrows his eyes at Rook, taking a deep sip of his smoothie before he places it on the coaster sitting upon his desk. He uncrosses his long legs and stands, walking over to sit with Rook on the loveseat. Rook watches him approach with a smile, the same pleasant one he usually wears before he shoots you a beaming grin and turns to look at Vil.

Their conversation is hushed, and you can’t really make out all of what they say. You can hear someone say your name, Vil’s tone swiftly turns vitriolic, then sweetens once more, and Rook chuckles under his breath. When their little meeting is over, Vil walks back over and finishes his smoothie before petting your head like you’re some kind of cat.

His hand strokes the crown of your head, then smooths over your cheek, he cups your jaw and thumbs over the swell of your lip, all while staring at you with a look you cannot read. And then he tilts his head, and smiles.

“Make sure you thank Rook. And you mistook a letter from my father as garbage.”

“Yes, Vil.” You reply obediently, “Sorry, Vil.”

He smiles. Your palms ache, and you have to bite back the urge to move, to peel at your cuticles or scratch the sides of your fingers.

“I’ll see you in class, Rook.” Vil says politely before he tilts your face up and pecks you on the lips.

You’re left alone with Rook. He doesn’t get up, not yet. You remain where you are, looking at your slippers. You hear Rook stand up and discard his garbage. You can feel him come up to stand behind you. 

“Has today been particulièrement difficile? My poor dear… You seem so sad today.” His arms wrap around you, looping them around your shoulders so they warm your collarbones like a scarf and he can rest his cheek against the back of your head. You hear him take a deep breath in.

With Vil, you don’t even try to speak anymore. You know he won’t really listen to you, because he knows better than you… But with Rook, as long as you wait a moment to make sure he is done speaking, he welcomes and even encourages you to speak your mind.

Your breath hitches and you swallow, “Uh, I mean… I guess I’m just having a bad day. It’s really been the same as usual.”

“Hmm.” Rook hums, completely devoid of emotion. You feel him turn his face so his nose is buried in your hair. He presses a kiss against your hair and sighs, “Ah, yes, the monotony of life is très épuisant, mmm?”

You wait for a second, then deliberately don’t answer the question in favor of asking your own, “Um, he said I should thank you?”

“Perhaps you should ask why more clearly. I have convinced our very own Vil to allow me to arrange a surprise for you.” Rook removes himself from your back and turns you around to face him, “And thus, I believe I have earned a kiss from you.”

“Wait, what?” You don’t get time to really back away or tell him to explain, as Rook squishes your cheeks with one of his gloved hands until your lips part.

His grip isn’t as harsh as Vil’s, but this is still something that only happens when you’re in more trouble than usual, so you involuntarily wince and close your eyes, cowering away from Rook as he dips his tongue into your mouth and slithers it between your teeth.

It is very easy to like Rook. He is passionate, and he’s far more kind to you than your supposed lover is. He’s intelligent and has an adonis-like form, and if not for the taste of blood on his tongue from whatever he ate for lunch or the grip he has on your face, maybe you would enjoy this kiss. But the big issue is that Rook honestly frightens you a little.

It’s absolutely not his fault, not entirely. Upon first meeting him, it was hard to tell if he was being genuine. He’s difficult to read, as he is often wearing the same set of expressions and his tone is always a bit melodramatic.

His hand releases your face to clamp around the base of your head, his tongue twisting in your mouth, pressing against the crevices in your teeth.

Not only is Rook hard to read, he is also uncannily observant and will not hesitate to ask somewhat invasive questions about his observations. The fact that he dresses in a way that conceals his mass is also disconcerting, as you were unaware that he had such a build until you saw him roll up his sleeve one time. You were aware Vil could do a lot of damage, but that was the day you realized that Rook was capable of doing about as much as Vil, if not more.

He purrs into your mouth, the vibrations feeling oh-so-wrong, and his other hand clamps down on your shoulder. He sucks your tongue into his mouth. It’s not a good feeling, as he is literally stealing what little air is in your mouth. When you feel something feather light flutter against your lashes and cheek, you feel a bit confused for just a moment, not even a second, before you realize that Rook just blinked. His eyes are open. 

He pulls away and sighs, almost dreamily. You suppress your distressed sputtering, holding your breath as Rook stares at you.

“Ah, enough time has passed. I will need to leave you, mon lapin. Thank you for indulging me; your kiss was divine and tasted sweeter than the finest fruits!” He presses something into your palm and adjusts his hat before he casts you a wave and shuts the door.

You stand there, your lips drying out from the saliva left on them and your cheeks feeling a little odd from the way he was holding your face. You’re processing, because, ever as always, Rook is simulated spontaneity. So many things just happened, and you don’t… 

You blink a few times and look down at your aching palm stupidly. The crimson cellophane crinkles as you unclench your fist. He gave you a piece of candy.

Just looking at it makes you start crying. One second you’re staring wide-eyed at the little lump of sugar, and the next your vision is blurring and you’re crying off your makeup, plump tears cascading down your face. Your nose begins to run and you sniffle. You can’t find it in yourself to sob, because you’re mostly certain that these are happy tears. 

Unfortunately, you can’t eat the candy now. If you threw the wrapper away, Vil would notice it in the garbage and you’d get in trouble for “breaking your diet plan.” So you hide it in the very back corner of the drawer of Vil’s armoire. You’ll be tidying it on your own anyway, and Vil never reaches all the way into the back of it.

Once your tears have stopped, you stand up and go back to cleaning the bathroom. It’s spotless and smells like lavender and lemons about an hour before Vil gets back, so you decide to skim one of the books on the shelves. 

It’s not long before you’re bored with that as well. You carefully put the book back and wander over to the lattice window, staring out of it. The window, paired with your usual low mood, made you sort of feel like a bird in a very ornate cage. 

From where you are, about three stories up, you notice a familiar figure notching an arrow before he unnotches it and takes a knee. You blandly spectate as he fiddles with the bow.

Partway through him notching the arrow again, you see his hat tilt. He’s far away enough that you can’t see his eyes, but you can feel his stare. His gloved hand bends his brim and you jerk away from the window, only to bump into someone.

You don’t get to shriek, as a hand clamps over your mouth. It’s just Vil, but you don’t relax yet as he drags you towards the bed and deposits you there.

“How many times must I tell you to stay away from the window?”

He’s never once told you to stay away from the window. Not as far as you can recall, at least. Your lips tremble and you decide it’d be more wise to keep silent.

Vil glares down at you and you feel the rest of your body start to tremble. His lips curl into a displeased sneer, “You didn’t wash your face after crying?”

“N-no, Vil-”

“We do not stutter.” Vil hisses, bending to get in your face. He stares at you for a moment before standing straight again, “Speak up.”

You swallow and clench your hands into fists, “No… Vil. I… got rid of the foundation like you, um… asked me to. I wouldn’t have been able to redo-”

“Alright. Go wash your face.” Vil interrupts you again.

You jump up and rush into the bathroom, going through your skincare routine. You can feel Vil staring at you, your skin crawling under his gaze. As you rub moisturizer into your skin, Vil finally says something.

“Did Rook do something to you, darling?” His tone is soft, tentative.

You glance at him, blinking a few times. What does he mean by ‘something’? He did do something, but it wasn’t bad, or particularly different.

“Um… Not exactly.” You say, massaging your forehead.

“I see. What did he do?” 

You look down at the sink. You’re not saying anything about the candy. “Rook kissed me?”

“That should not be a question.” Vil says. You see him shake his head through your peripheral, “Would you like to change your clothes before I redo your makeup?”

You’d like to ask what he’s talking about, but instead, you look down at your clothing. You don’t have a proper Pomefiore uniform because you’re not a part of this dorm. You’re an interloper- or a caged bird.

You don’t know what to do here. You don’t want to say something wrong and unintentionally offend Vil. Your palms ache. You give him a confused look from where you are.

He doesn’t look impressed, but before he can say anything about you gaping at him, you speak up, “What… am I supposed to do?”

You’ve only seen Vil surprised a few times. He raises his eyebrows and looks at you as though you’ve grown two heads, then sighs, “Well, I suppose I’d like to see you in something else. I’ll choose your outfit.”

That’s nothing new, he always does that. You wait in the bathroom for him to return. He strolls back in with a mockery of the Pomefiore uniform. There’s a deep purple cloak and capelet, which Vil drapes on the bed before handing you the actual clothes. It’s a very ruffled dress shirt, the long, puffy sleeves cinched into more ruffles at the wrist paired with a pair of black bloomer-style shorts. The buttons are all white and gold, marbled together. 

Vil leaves the bathroom and you change, neatly tucking your previous clothing away in the hamper. When you leave, as usual, Vil picks at your clothing, making sure it looks as good on you as he pleases, and then he steers you to sit down.

For however vicious he can be, Vil can be oddly gentle. For every time he grabs you roughly, his touch is feather-light ten more times. He hums a soft tune as he puts light makeup on you, just your eyes and lips, and then he drapes the cloak around your shoulders and places his hands on his hips.

“You look lovely. Go put on the pair of gold boots with the black decals.”

You do as told. He very likely wants to just take pictures of you or something so he can ask that Mira app about it.

Except when you stop in front of him, he doesn’t tell you to go sit in the loveseat or on the table near his window, no, he scoops you up and presses his forehead against your jaw.

“Oh, when did you put on this cologne? What a ravishing smell on you.” He presses a kiss on the column of your throat and breezes out of his dorm room's door.

Almost immediately, you go limp in his arms, like a doll. He never gave you explicit verbal permission to leave this room, so the curse he placed on you when he decided you should be his smashes into you like a giant wave at the beach.

Vil carries you all the way outside and looks at your face, then happily struts along the path behind the dorm. Since you can’t turn your head, you can only go off of the view of Vil’s neck and chin, the sky, and whatever you can hear.

“Ah, I am glad to see you did not change your mind, Roi du Poison. J'aurais été très déçue et triste pour notre chéri.” You hear Rook say. 

You can almost feel Vil get a mite warmer, “Yes, well. Hand me the basket. Since you want to make out with them and make them cry, you get to carry them as an apology.”

Rook happily scoops you out of Vil’s arms, giving you a cloying look as he strolls along. He and Vil chat as they walk, something not really worth listening in on, just boring musings about class and “this teacher did x” or “that student did y”. An insect lands on your cheek and you are incapable of batting it away or expressing your discomfort. Its legs tickle the peach fuzz on your face and you remain still, like a corpse.

Rook slides you into a seated position, posing you like a toy before shooing the bug off of your face. Now you can see that you’re in a clearing in the woods, seated on a picnic blanket. There’s a few lanterns staked into the ground, and Rook and Vil are busy with whatever is on the floor. You can’t look down, so your best guess is that it’s a picnic.

Vil leans over and snaps in your face, smiling kindly at you, “Now. If I release you, you are not going to run. You are not going to so much as consider running. We are going to have a nice picnic with no shenanigans from you.”

You can’t nod, so you just stare at him, trying to telepathically communicate.

He looks pleased enough, “Wonderful. I give you permission to leave our room.”

Your muscles relax and you look back, finding that you’re leaned against a log. The picnic spread is very nice, as well. It looks like finger sandwiches. You’re not expecting to get to eat one, as you haven’t had bread since Vil switched up your diet. Vil passes something to you.

“Oh.” You mumble, staring at the plate Vil hands you. 

It’s a sandwich. A very wonderful looking sandwich, cut into triangles and with the crusts still on. You blink at it a few times and look back up at Vil.

“Don’t expect this to be a pattern. This is a treat for good behavior.”

You look back down, “Yes, Vil.”

“There’s no need to remind them. They’re being obedient.” Rook’s voice is more firm than you expected to hear him ever speak. Usually his tone is buoyant, and you’ve never seen him outright pick a fight with Vil like this.

“Please. You give anyone an inch, they’ll take a mile.” Vil cuts back, then turns to you and pets your head like a dog or a cat again, “Eat your food, beautiful.”

You take a bite. Bread is just as good as you remember it. The air feels thick, like you’re in a bubble as Vil and Rook communicate through eye contact alone. Before you know it, your sandwich is gone and your hands are covered in crumbs. Rook, still staring at Vil with that happy little smile, wipes your hands and places a glass in your hands. Whatever is in it smells sweet. You take a tentative sip.

Were it Vil, you would have never drank whatever this is. It kind of tastes like a mellow mixed berry juice. It’s very pleasant, actually. Better than the potion Vil used to lace your food and drinks with. You smile into the cup and Vil snatches it from you.

He takes a sip and frowns, handing it back, “Mmm. I have an even better surprise.”

Rook pulls your legs into his lap and gently kneads your calves as you watch Vil rifle through the picnic basket. What is happening? You sip your juice and Vil produces a triangular container. He places a fork on top and hands it to you.

You finish the last of your juice and accept the box, looking conspiratorially at Rook. Something you can’t put your finger on dances in his eyes and he digs his thumb into your shin a little strongly. You flinch and cautiously open the box. It’s a piece of fluffy white cake, with even fluffier meringue and an uncannily perfect cherry wedged into it.

You look at Vil, expecting some kind of trick. Not that he’s ever done that before, usually he’d just take it from you or make some snide comment, things like that, but he and Rook are acting really strange today, 

“I know how much you long for junk food, so I spent some time after club activities today whipping up some angel food cake. It’s got agave instead of sugar so it won’t completely break your diet and your skin won’t suffer as much.”

Yeah, this is weird. The cake is good, though, it’s fluffy and sweet. You pace your bites so that Vil won’t make a comment and you can savor this. You can feel both of their eyes on you and it makes your skin crawl.

You lower the cake box and look at Vil, who looks a bit offended for just a second. The fleeting expression is replaced by a pleased little grin, the mauve lipstick making the curve of his lips all the more sinister in the dimming light.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, Vil.” You glance at the cake and then back at him, “I’m… I’m sorry, I’m a little confused.”

“Why?” Rook asks.

Your shoulders jerk as you turn your head to look at him. You weren’t expecting him to say anything. His chest swells in what appears to be a suppressed chuckle as he squeezes your knee. It seems his hands have climbed.

“Uh…” You swallow, “This is just… not what I’m used to.”

“The cake?” Vil looks hurt. Why does he look hurt?

You shake your head rapidly, “No! Oh- No, Vil. I… It’s just been so long since I’ve been out here…”

“Do you want to go inside, chéri?” Rook murmurs.

You do, but you also don’t really want to risk sounding ungrateful. Being outside has stressed you out more than you’d like to admit. You’re not really sure what to do because Vil has you trained like a dog, and none of what he’s hammered into you involves picnics. You’re scared.

Rooks eyes narrow as you just stare at him. Your chest hurts from how hard your heart is throbbing, and on the other side of you, Vil sighs.

“Well, I’ll start cleaning up, then. When we get back, I expect you to take a seat on the bed.”

That sounds like what happens every time you get in trouble. A terror shudders through you and your eyes water a bit as you gnaw on your lip. Your palms ache as you fight to keep from picking at your cuticles. Vil packs up everything and Rook offers you a princely hand to help you up.

You can feel the calluses on his hands through his gloves as he essentially lifts you to your feet. You keep between Rook and Vil as you walk back to the dorm.

It’s quiet, since everyone else is winding down for bed. For a moment, you think you spot Epel, but you’re not sure. It doesn’t matter anyway. None of your old friends talk to you anymore. Not since Vil started having eyes for you.

Just as you were told, after taking off your boots you take a seat on the bed and retrieve the silver ruler from the side-table’s drawer. You place it beside you as you look down at your feet. You look down at the streaky bruises on the lighter skin on your palms and try not to start crying. It’s always worse when you cry.

He adds smacks by twos. Depending on what you did, you start with four or six, and then any time you flinch or pull away or make a loud noise, he adds two more. Last time, you spilled one of his nail polishes, and after watching you clean it up, you ended up getting ten lashes.

At least Rook didn’t do it then. He tries to make it quick but that just makes it hurt more. A tear slips down your cheek.

You don’t even know what you did. You tap the tear track dry with one fingertip and Vil and Rook fully enter the room.

“Why is the ruler out?” Vil asks, and then his voice goes sharp, “Are you crying?”

“I’m… I’m sorry, Vil.” You sob.

“I don’t know why.” He grabs the ruler and shoves it away before you can raise your hands, “Go wash your face.”

You stand up and shakily do as told, returning to sit on the bed. Vil goes into the bathroom after you and Rook takes a seat next to you, his hand on your shoulder.

He smiles at you, rubbing your shoulder, “You are très précieux, chéri.”

You look at him in a state of hollow bewilderment as he brushes his cheek against yours and presses a soft kiss to the shell of your ear.

You hear the bathroom door close and a tired sigh from Vil, “Do you have no patience?”

Your head jerks to look at VIl, “Rook is…?”

“Yes, he’s joining us tonight.” Vil plucks the loop of his sleeve from his middle finger and loosens his belt. You get the feeling that the next words he says aren’t for you, “Well, go ahead.”

You feel Rook’s chuckle more than you hear it. With his lips against your neck, his hands begin to slide. The hand on your shoulder rests on the nape of your neck and his other hand slides down to your thigh, then up to your waist. You try not to cringe against his touch, but it’s difficult.

His hand slides down again as he trails his teeth against the back of your ear. His thumb hooks in your pants and starts yanking them down. You outright flinch.

“Wait-”

“Relax, darling.” Vil mumbles, hanging his clothing in the armoire.

You try. You absolutely try. Rook throws your bloomers aside and rests his hand on your lower belly for a moment. He sighs into your ear and reaches up to unclasp your buttons.

You feel stiff. You want to push him away but you can’t move. It’s as though your body is frozen. It’s not due to a curse, so the only possible solution is that you’re quite literally scared stiff. 

He pulls away your shirt and glances at Vil, “Are you prepared?”

“Please.” You can hear the smile on Vil’s lips as Rook turns back and kisses you again, his hand smoothing along your collarbone and shoulders.

Your underwear is the next to go. Of course it is. You fight to keep from breathing oddly, because you’re aware that if you pass out, Vil will get annoyed.

“Mmm.” The devil’s hand glides up your back and you fight back a shudder as Rook leans you backwards into his arms. “How are you feeling, darling?”

You’re honest, “I’m scared.”

“I thought you would say that.” Vil freely manhandles you, shifting you so you’re leaned chest to chest. He slides something off of the side table and passes it behind you, then cups your cheek, “You would save a lot of time and stress if you’d just learn to trust me.”

“I…” You hate him. You hate him so much. He keeps you here like a pet, and you don’t know how he’s supposed to expect you to treat him like a lover when he treats you the way he does. 

Before you can articulate an answer that pleases Vil, a wicked burn besets your sphincter and you clench your jaw. 

Vil’s voice is sharp, “Rook, please.”

You hear Rook make a noise underneath the harsh sound of blood rushing in your ears and your own heavy panting. Something cool oozes around the ring of your ass and you press your face against Vil’s chest. His robe is lazily tied, which is not particularly like him, and you can see his cock poking out where the fabric separates. You let out a strangled noise and Vil shushes you, rubbing your back soothingly.

“Relax. I know, you weren’t prepared. Relax.” Vil soothes.

“I don’t mind if you remain tense, chéri. Mon plaisir n'en est que plus grand. And your little cries and whimpers sont terriblement mignons.” Rook mumbles behind you.

Rook is better than Vil in most areas, but once he gets his dick inside of you, it’s as though he forgets to be caring and kind. The tables flip, with Vil acting the part of a caring lover and Rook becoming a sadistic bully. You let out a ragged sob as Rook rolls his hips and Vil hisses something that you don’t quite catch.

It almost sounded like he was telling Rook to slow down. That very well could have been the case, as Rook eases back a bit and only shallowly thrusts.

Vil continues petting you, coaxing you so your cheek is pressed against his thigh. He is always a perfect warm. He is always perfect, so it sort of makes sense, but his skin is a pleasant temperature. He feels alive, a perfectly human temperature that tells you he’s breathing and his heart is beating. As he fingers through your hair, Rook gives a harsher than usual thrust and you cry out.

“Rook, if you’re impatient then you’re going to hurt them, and neither of us have the time to take care of them all day.” Vil chides, and then his tone softens as he rubs the space between your shoulders, “Are you ready for me as well, darling?” “What…?” You ask, blearily. Somewhere in the back of your awareness, you know what he wants, but you can feel Rook’s thrusts growing impatient and seeing as you weren’t given any prep, you’re in a bit too much shock to think straight.

“Mmm… You’re awfully cute but I need you to be a bit more lucid.” Vil snaps in your ear and resumes his petting, “This isn’t the first time, sweetheart. I’m not going to hold your hand.”

The soft tip of his member spreads his pre like lipgloss against your lips. As you shakily open your mouth, you figure you’re lucky that Vil doesn’t have a chaotic, unhealthy diet like Leona or Ace, that he doesn’t drink coffee for fun or often like Deuce does. The taste of his skin is lightly floral and dominantly human, likely thanks to the body lotion he applies daily. 

He hisses and presses against your forehead, “Ah-ah. You’re taking enough from Rook. Just the tip for me is fine.”

From behind, you hear Rook grumble under his breath, “Je n'en peux plus de cette merde…”

“Watch your- unf- watch your language, Rook.” Vil snarls, massaging the nape of your neck as you carefully lave your tongue over his glans.

Rook’s patience breaks, his hands clamping down on your waist, just above your hips. You have the sense to pull Vil’s cock out of your mouth as Rook begins battering into you.

As much as you feel okay about Rook, he is not a doting lover by nature. He’s mean and brutal, chasing his climax, and only after he cums does he bother to think about you or your needs. Your palms ache as you grab Vil’s member and gently tug on it. Vil flinches and snaps at you to get your attention.

You look to the side and for a second, as the pain ebbs, you assume you’re having an out of body experience, and then you realize that you’re staring into his vanity mirror. Rook’s hair exaggeratedly sways with his motion. He removed his hat but just haphazardly displaced the rest of his clothing. He’s not smiling, he’s making some sort of smug expression.

It’s funny. As Vil is satisfied with you weakly jerking him off, his touch gentle, Rook is wild on your other end. Every time you just barely begin to relax, he thrusts harder, which makes you tense and a spike of pain batters through you. 

You endure as best you can. You endure every day, enduring through eating the same unfulfilling food, enduring through walking on eggshells around Vil, enduring getting your palms beaten to hell for the most human of errors, so what’s getting sodomized in the face of everything else you can handle?

You bite back a shriek as a harsh pinch on your bottom, followed by a smack administered by Rook. He leans down and blows in your ear, snickering as he leans back, “I thought you had given up the ghost for a second there.”

Vil sucks in a breath and you quietly mumble against his thigh.

“Hmm? I didn’t hear you, mon chou.” Rook’s voice is almost mocking, like before.

“P-please… Rook, I can’t-”

“You can. You’ll live.” He grunts, the steady clap of your ass against his body punctuating his statement.

“It hurts.” You sniffle. You’re not particularly prone to crying, but, then again, Rook and Vil usually prepare you before deciding to fuck your ass.

You sob and Rook’s grasp tightens on your waist, a ragged moan punching out of his chest. He pulls your body flush to his and jerks his hips into you, drilling a bit harder for all of four or five thrusts. And then he’s no longer on you, and you feel your body getting shifted so your head is still in Vil’s lap but you’re lying prone.

You tilt Vil’s dick down to massage the head with your tongue and something warm drips on your back. You hear a noise of disgust from Vil, capped by a quiet moan.

“Absolutely not. All three of us are getting in the tub if you don’t clean that up right now.”

Rook chuckles and coos, “Hmm, but it looks so lovely. My alabaster essence creates a wonderful contrast with their soft and supple skin.”

A flush of humiliation crawls up the back of your neck and you hide your face against Vil’s belly, using your own arm to hide the other half. Vil shudders as he pushes your head down a bit, but his voice sounds incredulous.

“That’s vile. It doesn’t have any proven health benefits, you know that.”

You felt Rook’s hands spreading his semen into the skin on your back and your palms ache as Vil cums in your mouth. He doesn’t do that often, so it hits you like a shock.

You gag but force it down and Vil shoots up, fretting over you.

“Did you just swallow that?” He bends down to look into your eyes.

“Yes, Vil.”

“You didn’t need to do that.” Vil snips, sounding much harsher than he might intend, “I’m going to run us a bath, alright, darling? I’ll make sure you can brush that icky stuff out of your mouth.”

It didn’t taste bad. Vil usually cums on your face as an incentive for you to wash your face very well after a day of wearing makeup, or he has you jerk him off until he cums, but the few other times you did taste it, it was the same as this time. It was mostly salty, not too bitter, likely from his good diet. Regardless, he breezes away and Rook gives your bottom a light tap. You stand up and glance at Rook, who is looking a bit disheveled but pretty pleased with himself.

“How are you feeling, cheri?”

“That hurt.” Your voice is quiet, and your throat is still lined with tears.

“Does it still hurt?” He smiles and tilts his head.

The sound of the tub running is thunderous even where you are. Vil would never tolerate you complaining, but Rook is amicable, “A little.”

“The bath will do you good, then. Come.”

You let Rook guide you into the bathroom, his hand on your elbow. As he undresses and joins Vil on the edge of the tub, you look down at your bruised hands and glance at the slowly closing bathroom door, then at Rook and Vil where they stand near the tub.

You can’t say you prefer either of them, really, but you don't get an opinion. Do dolls at tea parties get to ask for a different kind of tea?

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Li Zeyan’s Reliance Date (Eng Translation)

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 依靠之约, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡

⚠️ Additional Warning ⚠️ while the entire date is not spice-themed, but the steamy parts are borderline dangerous and highly not recommended if you don’t qualify for the 17+ age rating (CN server). so, the call is yours~ :>

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

【Subbed Video】

─────────────

【Chapter 1】 

MC: [on the call] …We need to find some local media outlets that we can potentially partner with for our ad campaign ASAP.

MC: [on the call]  Also, email me a copy of the revised design proposal for the main exhibit booth.

As soon as I hang up the phone, a flurry of work notifications causes my phone to vibrate again. I roll over on the soft couch and can’t help but heave a sigh.

MC: Sigh…

[MC’s Company Name] has undertaken several major projects this year, and all of them have been executed very successfully. The company’s reputation is also gradually expanding beyond Loveland City.

Last month, our company bid for a large-scale project in collaboration with Copenhagen City Council and Loveland City, and I worked overtime for over a month for this.

However, just as we were about to secure the project smoothly, we were maliciously intercepted by the competing company Shuanjian Media. In the end, it was due to LFG stepping in that we were able to resolve the situation with a narrow escape.

Even though the project has been secured, a lingering sense of defeat from being backstabbed and making critical errors remains with me, refusing to dissipate from my mind.

Perhaps because of this, I’ve recently spent the majority of my time being on top of all kinds of tedious work, afraid that if I don’t handle them in time, it will lead to further consequences.

The sound of steady footsteps gradually draws near, and I turn my head to see Li Zeyan walking towards me. He places a cup of hot Longan tea on the coffee table next to me.

LZY: This is already the eighth time a certain someone has sighed tonight. What’s so thorny about the project that got you on edge?

I put my phone down and, somewhat coquettishly, open my arms toward the person in front of me.

MC: We’re planning an exhibition for the project in Copenhagen. Just finalized the venue today and now ironing out the details.

He readily responds to my cue and enfolds me in his arms. His fingers trace their way up my neck, massaging the skin there in a soothing manner.

LZY: If I remember correctly, the preparation period for this exhibition is quite long, and there’s no need for your recent overtime to catch up on the schedule.

MC: You’re right, but the coordination needed for various aspects of a multinational project is quite intricate. Starting earlier allows more elbow room…

MC: Plus, the reason I’ve been working overtime isn’t just for this project. The business interview you’re starring in will also be recorded tomorrow.

MC: It’s the final episode of the year, so I cannot afford any slip-ups!

LZY: You’ve already confirmed the program sequence with me three times today. What could possibly go wrong?

While speaking, Li Zeyan sits down next to me and draws me into his arms.

MC: After all, the external press would absolutely kill to have their names in the show where the CEO Li of LFG is making an appearance. So, I definitely need to be 200% cautious.

Nestled in his embrace, breathing in his familiar scent, I make a conscious effort to relax my somewhat tired brain.

LZY: If you encounter any difficulties, reach out to me at any time.

MC: I’m facing difficulties right now, and I’m in urgent need of CEO Li’s encouragement!

I pucker my lips and lift my head to approach him. The corners of Li Zeyan’s lips curl up slightly, and he lowers his head–– a soft, warm touch descends before leaving just as quickly.

Though fleeting, the tenderness of the moment washes over my heart. I nuzzle his chin with the tip of my nose, feeling perfectly content.

LZY: [chuckles indulgently] Dummy, you’re so easily satisfied.

MC: Why wouldn’t I be? What could be more soothing than a kiss from CEO Li?

MC: As for work matters… CEO Li has already helped me a lot, so I’ll work hard and handle the rest on my own!

LZY: We’ll talk about the “working hard” part later. But if you keep dawdling like this, the bathtub is gonna need a refill of hot water.

MC: Hehe, right now, you should say something like, “Honey, it’s bath time~”

LZY: …

Ignoring the speechless look in his eyes, I lazily shift my position and nuzzle his neck, then stand up with a smile.

MC: Would you like to join me for some relaxation time?

I notice that his fingertips seem to tense up for a moment. Before he can really come and “arrest” me, I make a face at him and dash into the bathroom.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 2】

Soaking in the warm bath, I feel the fatigue in my body dissolving into the water.

Just as I’m about to use my phone to find a drama to watch and completely clear my mind, work messages begin popping up one after another on the screen, and I subconsciously click on them.

MC: [to herself] So, the collaboration partner we agreed on before has backed out…?

As part of our tourism project with Denmark, we are planning to establish recreational and promotional zones in both cities, and we have found an experienced collaborator in the relevant field to partner with.

MC: [to herself] Everything was already talked through and all set, so why are they bringing up issues with the company’s capital chain at this critical juncture?

I feel my insides somewhat burning with rage, so I give Anna a call. She also sounds just as angry and swiftly catches me up to speed on the situation.

Anna: [on the call] I did some digging, and it turns out one of the shareholders of this company has a very close personal relationship with the owner of Shuangjian Media.

MC: [on the call] Shuangjian Media?

Isn’t that the black-hearted company that tried to sabotage our tourism project?

Anna: [on the call] We initially partnered with them because of their experience in cross-border tourism projects, but now wrangling with them is more cumbersome than it’s worth. I think it might be better to take this opportunity to switch to another company.

MC: [on the call] …let me think about it.

I release a sigh and hang up the phone, then bury my face in the water, blowing bubbles as a mild head throbbing creeps over me.

The perfect company… As I ponder on this matter, a face flashes through my mind.

As a matter of fact, I have casually mentioned this project to Li Zeyan before, but he didn’t show much interest in it.

Should I… go ask him?

Even though I know in my heart–– LFG is the ideal choice that can’t go wrong, for some reason, I can’t seem to bring myself to voice my thoughts.

I can’t always turn to Li Zeyan to help resolve my problems every time I run into one.

No longer in the mood to soak in the warm bath, I reach for the shampoo and press the nozzle, intending to wash up as quickly as possible.

I press down hard twice, but the bottle only emits a sputtering sound, and the last remaining bit of shampoo drips pitifully into my palm.

MC: …

Akin to a sudden spark explosion, it instantly triggers a denotation of all the built-up frustration inside me.

I take a deep breath, jerk myself up from the water and throw on a robe, intending to head for the cabinet to find a new bottle of shampoo.

Little did I know, the moment I step onto the tiled floor, I feel my feet slip out from under me, and my body uncontrollably begins to topple forward––

With a loud thud, the immediate sensation of pain shoots up my knee.

MC: [in pain] Hiss…

The pain causes my eyes to burn hot, and I slide down onto the bathroom floor, rubbing my knee.

A flurry of somewhat anxious footsteps echoes outside the door. Moments later, the door is flung open, revealing Li Zeyan’s face, tension written across his entire countenance, an expression that is rarely seen on him.

LZY: [panicked af]  What happened?

The blast of cold air from the open door causes me to shiver. Noticing this, he closes the door before squatting down beside me.

MC: …I slipped and banged my knee.

As he looks at my slightly reddened knee, a hint of helplessness crosses his expression.

LZY: [sighs with infinite indulgent resignation] Restless.

His warm thumb massages the area around my reddened knee, causing the jumble of fretful emotions in my heart to instantly turn into a surge of grievances and pour out.

I blink, trying to dispel the mist clouding my vision. The finger caressing my skin pauses for a moment before suddenly landing at the corner of my eye, catching me unawares.

LZY: [even more indulgently] Crying because it hurts too much?

MC: …no, it’s not that!

MC: It’s nothing serious, just that I got a call from Anna earlier. There’s been… a minor hiccup with the tourism project.

Pouting my lips, I recount to Li Zeyan the “bad news” I’ve just received.

LZY: Do you need my help?

This seems to be the second time he has asked this question. I struggle with myself for a moment before shaking my head.

MC: There’s… no need for now, but if I can’t handle it myself, I’ll definitely reach out to CEO Li.

Hearing me respond this way, Li Zeyan doesn’t press further, and he simply places his palm on the side of my knee.

LZY: Does it still hurt?

Listening to his tender tone, I can’t help but gently hook my finger around his.

MC: It hurts… I can’t get up.

LZY: [laughs helplessly] When a certain stubborn someone fixates on something, there’s no stopping her, but she’s oddly honest when it comes to being afraid of pain.

MC: I’m just being a little persistent, is all. I can’t always have you be my safety net every time there’s an issue… ouch!

My knee twitches slightly, and a dull ache once again surges through my knee, reminiscent of spreading out along silken threads.

LZY: You can’t solve two things at once, so take them one at a time.

LZY: Do you want to take care of your knee first, or deal with the work matters?

MC: …knee.

The air in the small bathroom with thick with white steam, and even Li Zeyan’s faint sigh seems to blend into the steaming hot vapor.

LZY: [lets out a complex laugh; it’s of sb who is all-knowing of all happenings but is infinitely indulgent towards you]  Then listen to me.

MC: [confused]  What…

–

Before I can finish my sentence, Li Zeyan has already shown me through his actions how I should “listen.”

A soft touch imprints on my skin, and a burning sensation spreads from my knee along my skin to my entire body.

I jolt slightly and freeze for a moment. The patch of skin kissed by that softness tingles, and it seems like even the pain is slowly dissipating.

LZY: Don’t fidget; it might make the pain worse.

The deep, slightly hoarse tailing note of his voice, accompanied by the sound of running water, causes me to subconsciously draw my leg back a little, only to have it restrained in place by that hand again.

A gentle sensation, carrying with it a slight chill, seems to pepper its way over my knee, and the painful spot feels as if it’s being licked with cherishment and care.

All the senses in my body seem to be concentrated on that one spot, and I can’t help but take a light breath.

MC: Li Zeyan… 

LZY: [SO SOF– but you can also hear he’s THERE–]  Hm?

MC: …It’s nothing, I just wanted to say your name…

The fingers supporting my knee tighten slightly, and a surge of scorching breath sweeps over me, swallowing my trailing notes.

I follow his breath and, bit by bit, probe deeper, my heart in my chest pounding in synchronization with his increasingly rising body heat.

Warm water continues to gush from the showerhead, soaking both Li Zeyan’s clothes and mine without distinction.

A body temperature hotter than mine gradually closes in, and I feel as if I’m drowning in this steamy heat swirling in the air.

The lingering colorful bubbles from the shower gel float into the air, then burst open with a pop, leaving behind a soft chime drowned out by the sound of water.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 3】

Even though I gave up on the bubble bath halfway, ended up having to take a second shower, and by the time I went to bed, it was already the middle of the night, I still woke up early today.

[MC’s Company Name] annual business interview program is scheduled to shoot its final episode today, and Li Zeyan will be appearing as the heavyweight guest in this installment.

I have postponed all my other work and arrived at the studio early to ensure every detail of the shoot is absolutely flawless.

The soft white light from the softbox projects onto the light gray background wall, dimly reflecting the shadows of people hurrying around.

Standing in front of the filming equipment, I direct the production crew to adjust the set.

MC: This table needs to be moved a bit more. It doesn’t look well-positioned at the moment.

MC: Turn the reflector on the front left a little more to the right… there, perfect!

MC: The set is almost ready. I’ll go and check on the guest first.

—

After saying hello to the supervisor, I head to the dressing room.

Li Zeyan, clad in a suit, sits in front of a vanity mirror, his bangs swept up, causing his somewhat piercing eyes to be enhanced with an even deeper intensity.

The moment I walk in, those eyes precisely capture me from the reflection in the mirror.

MC: How is the preparation coming along, CEO Li?

LZY: Not bad. Is everything taken care of on the set?

Detecting a hint of jest in his tone, I walk over with a smile.

MC: Yup, that’s why I’m here to check in on this side of things–– CEO Li is our important, esteemed guest after all, so we can’t afford to be negligent.

MC: Therefore, today, my entire day belongs to you, CEO Li.

I wink at him through the mirror and catch a subtle smile playing at the edge of Li Zeyan’s lips.

I sit down on a stool nearby and watch the makeup artist styling Li Zeyan.

From this angle, his ocular orbit and the bridge of his nose appear even more defined, accentuating the depth of his eyes all the more.

MC: CEO Li’s side profile could outshine many stars on the cover of fashion magazines without competition.

LZY: [laughs in spite of himself] …always laying it on thick.

Even though he says this, the slight arch at the tip of his brows betrays a hint of delight.

Spellbound, as I continue to watch him, my phone suddenly vibrates twice, and a message from Kiki pops up––

Kiki: Boss, great news!!

In the chat window, a push notification jumps into my sight, and a few familiar words grab my attention.

MC: [reading the news] “Shuangjian Media Faces Major Crisis! Multiple celebrities under its banner are implicated in tax evasion scandals, and the investigation is underway. The amount of tax evasion has reached up to…”

Upon seeing the number below, I take in a sharp breath of air.

With such a large amount of tax evasion being investigated, it’s sure to land them in serious trouble.

Although I have caught the wind of some rumors before, suddenly so many people being exposed at once seems more like a deliberate action…

A vague idea surfaces in my mind. I instinctively look towards the man not far away, only to lock eyes with him directly.

LZY: MC.

I haven’t even noticed when, but his styling is already complete, and the makeup artist has left the dressing room, leaving only the two of us.

The slightly slim-fitted suit highlights his already tall and straight stature, and his slender fingers unhurriedly adjust the cufflinks. He looks in my direction, lifting his head slightly.

LZY: Help me out.

I raise my eyes and see a rose gold collar pin loosely hanging from the collar of his light gray shirt. 

I walk up to him and carefully fasten the collar pin. My fingertips inadvertently graze against the skin of his neck, eliciting a slight quiver of the Adam’s apple beneath the collar.

A somewhat scorching breath caresses my bangs, leaving a tickling sensation.

LZY: [laughs in amusement] Why are you zoning out?

His warm fingertips are on my neck, gently grazing the skin there intermittently.

MC: Just saw some good news that came as a relief for body and mind, that’s why I was a little distracted.

MC: Shuangjian Media, the company that intercepted [MC’s Company Name] before, has hit a roadblock… I wonder who “played the hero to uphold justice.”

I smile and wink at him, trying to discern any inkling of a clue from his expression that would confirm my guess.

However, he simply lowers his eyes slightly and looks at me, a barely perceptible arc forming on his lips.

LZY: [chuckles softly, but that’s a mastermind chuckle i tell you lmao] That’s quite nice.

MC: Li Zeyan, you…

A knock on the door cuts me off, and the voice of my assistant comes from outside.

Assistant: Boss, CEO Li, it’s almost time for the shoot to begin.

MC: Got it, we’ll be right there.

I purse my lips, suppressing my urge to inquire further, and loosen my hands, intending to escort Li Zeyan to the filming studio.

To my surprise, the pair of arms holding me within show no intention of letting go. He lowers his eyes, his gaze intent upon me.

LZY: Given the importance of this shoot, there ought to be an additional step in the preparation process.

With his head lowered, Li Zeyan leans in towards me slightly. A gentle and familiar breath assaults my senses, and his soft finger pad presses between my lips and teeth, hinting at something ambiguous. 

I cradle his face and lift myself up on my toes.

Our breaths intertwine for a brief moment, but a gentle ripple is left in my heart, reminiscent of a dragonfly lightly touching the water’s surface.

MC: So, even CEO Li needs a little encouragement before stepping in front of the camera?

LZY: I learned it from a certain someone.

The light in those deep eyes remains locked onto me, shimmering slightly, radiating a glow that seeps into my heart.

LZY: And it’s very effective.

—

Such scenes are run-of-the-mill for Li Zeyan. His tone remains steady throughout and devoid of any trace of tension.

LZY: The economic situation this year isn’t conducive to expanding the business scope or making risky investments, but there are more opportunities in the lower-tier markets compared to previous years…

As I watch Li Zeyan through the camera lens, the soft light, which leans more on the cooler tone, accentuates the depths of the man’s countenance all the more.

He speaks at a measured pace, but each word is uttered with an inexplicable sense of certainty.

Host: Although CEO Li mentioned just now that this year isn’t favorable for expanding business extern, LFG seems to be steadily venturing into new fields this year.

LZY: As a matter of fact, LFG has not been as stable this year as it may seem from the outside. On the contrary, we’ve encountered more crises than in previous years.

LZY: The failure of some investments has even put us under the preying eyes of many industry peers.

LZY: But fortunately, I’m not alone in holding up LFG, and LFG is not an isolated island––

As he speaks, his gaze seems to subtly shift towards me behind the camera. In that brief second our eyes interlock, the corners of his lips curl upward into a small smile.

But when I focus and take a closer look again, it’s as if that fleeting smile was never there.

LZY: LFG was able to weather this year’s storms without any mishaps not only due to our decisions but also thanks to the countless colleagues who worked tirelessly day and night to recover the company’s losses, as well as to the support of our subsidiaries.

LZY: Especially the companies that LFG has invested in. Without them, LFG would’ve encountered even greater challenges this year.

Li Zeyan’s straight-from-the-shoulder remarks leave even the host a little taken aback, an expression of surprise settling on their face.

Host: It appears that even LFG, regarded as the lion king in the eyes of the others, has times when it rides the waves to advance.

LZY: That’s inevitable; no one walks a solitary path in this society.

LZY: Having your own plans and making decisive choices is important, but choosing the right people to move forward with is equally important.

I am slightly taken aback.

This was not in the script; it’s obviously an impromptu remark from Li Zeyan.

I’m not sure why, but these words suddenly make me think of those eyes gazing into mine in the bathroom last night.

The unnecessary persistences in my heart seem to quietly start to disintegrate. I tightly clench my fingers and pull my attention back to the show.

Host: We can tell that CEO Li is speaking from the heart. It seems that not only for the company but also for you, CEO Li, personally, do you have someone who can be considered as your exclusive “valued person”?

This time, I clearly see the smile in his eyes. I hold my breath slightly, waiting for the answer that I may have already known for a long time, yet can’t help eagerly anticipating––

LZY: [while looking at you] I do. It’s a well-spring that will never run dry, even in the desert. No matter what trouble may arise, I know without a doubt––

LZY: [while looking at you] She will be by my side forever.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 4】

After the interview concludes, the filming crew and I head to the Central Grand Hotel.

To celebrate the completion of year-end work and the official wrap-up of the show, [MC’s Company Name] is holding a team-building celebration party here.

Perhaps because the end of the year is drawing closer, a festive atmosphere gradually begins to permeate, filling the banquet hall with laughter.

Being spurred on by this pure joy, I also end up having a few extra drinks.

I find myself feeling a little woozy, until, finally, Li Zeyan takes the wine glass from my hand and escorts me all the way to the lounge of the suite.

—

Inside the room’s bathroom, I turn on the faucet–– the cool water flows over my hand, washing away the slight tipsiness from the alcohol.

After the buzz from the alcohol has worn off a bit, I exhale and push open the bathroom door.

—

The lights in the room are not lit, and a familiar voice can be heard drifting from near the window. He seems to be on the phone with someone.

LZY: …got it. Email it to me.

The high heels under my feet tread on the soft carpet, barely producing any sound as I walk quietly to the floor-to-ceiling windows––

Outside the glass windows of the high-rise, thousands of lights spread out into the distance like a dazzling mosaic of stars.

Li Zeyan is lying on the carpet, the neon lights falling upon him in soft, colorful specks.

I sit down by the freestanding panoramic bathtub not far from him, watching as he hangs up the call.

MC: Was that about work?

LZY: Mm. I heard [MC’s Company Name] is looking for new partners for the Denmark project. I’ve asked the marketing department to draft a proposal. Once it’s finalized, I’ll send it over to you.

MC: But… weren’t you not very interested in this project before?

LZY: It’s true that the profit margins of this project are finite for LFG. However, if we approach it strategically, it could be a breakthrough in the Nordic market.

Seeing my somewhat baffled expression, he raises an eyebrow.

LZY: Since a certain someone has been dragging her feet, I have no choice but to take the initiative and propose it myself.

LZY: Or perhaps you already have other choices in mind?

MC: Of course not!

I don’t shy away from meeting those deep eyes of his squarely. My heart skips a beat, and I’m reminded of the question I’ve been holding back all afternoon.

MC: Before I give you my formal answer, I also have something I’d like to ask CEO Li––

MC: Shuangjian Media artists were found to have engaged in tax evasion. Helping [MC’s Company Name] vent some frustration this way… that was CEO Li’s doing, wasn’t it?

LZY: After all, a certain someone has been frowning and being glued to her phone even during meals for the past two weeks because of the troubles this company has stirred.

LZY: It’s best to take care of it early on, so it doesn’t take up more of your energy.

I’m momentarily stunned, and as I reflect on the recent events, a surge of emotions suddenly intertwines in my heart.

MC: So, CEO Li, what you are subtly reminding me is that I’ve been too occupied with work recently and have been neglecting you?

LZY: [you can’t hear me, but I’m screaming––]  I simply want to have the share that’s rightfully mine.

His understated words convey a hint of tenderness that’s impossible to miss, and it sears into my heart, making the swaying toes of my feet pause mid-motion.

MC: Li Zeyan, thank you. Even though it may sound very formal, I still want to say thank you.

LZY: I wonder who was the person that said before that, you and I, we are one identity?

I’m slightly taken aback for a moment–– I did seem to have said those words not too long ago.

At the time, FengZhen Group was making moves against LFG, and I couldn’t be more grateful to be the one who could stand by his side.

–

[Tidbits]: It’s a call-back to Li Zeyan’s 2024 CNY UR: Burning Imprints~

–

MC: [teasingly]  I believe I said “and LFG” at the time.

LZY: [confidently shrugs off LOL] Same thing.

LZY: Both LFG and I are enmeshed in many complicated relationships, and more and more branches and leaves are slowly growing outward.

LZY: So there’s no need to be so anxious. You’ve long been the sharpest blade capable of breaking the siege for LFG.

The lingering haze that has been weighing on my mind for the past half a month suddenly clears up. In its place, there arises a kind of sweet and surging fluttering sensation, and it’s overwhelming enough to fill my entire heart.

I did seem to be a little too anxious, so anxious that I overlooked the fact that I didn’t need to be in a hurry to rush forward. The unshakable position by his side will always belong to me and me alone.

I lower my eyes, my gaze tracing the contours of his outline obscured by the darkness.

MC: Li Zeyan… you will forever be my first choice.

–

As the words leave my lips, my ankle is suddenly clasped by a warm, dry palm.

Followed by a sigh that almost blends into the night, a twinge of pain shoots through my calf––

My eyes widen, watching as Li Zeyan’s lips meet my skin and nip me gently. He raises his eyes to interlock with mine, and I can see a hint of dissatisfaction swimming in their depths.

LZY: [GOSH THAT SULKY YET SEXY TONE] You’ve hesitated for too long.

Warm fingertips trace upward along my calf little by little, as if offering a kind of appeasement.

The worries haunting me every now and again, concealed in the darkest recesses of my heart, are set alight and burned to ashes.

MC: …I didn’t take that long.

LZY: Since I am your first choice, don’t hesitate.

His fiery breath snakes slowly up the inside of my knee, accompanied by comforting words tinged with a layer of inexplicable rosy hue, causing one to become addicted.

The soft touch rests gently agains the bend of my knee, causing me to shiver involuntarily. I chuckle softly and look at him with a semi-playful gaze.

MC: Um… Mr. “First Choice,” could you help me with something––

MC: Tell me, what can I do to make you happier?

Not waiting for me to finish my sentence, the pressure on my thigh increases slightly, and suddenly my body feels lighter.

The cry of exclamation hasn’t even left me before I find my entire person already wrapped in strong, solid arms.

LZY: You knowingly ask the question.

His deep eyes are so close to me, almost within reach. I can clearly see countless sparks surging beneath them, stirring up an ambiguous and inexplicable heat.

LZY: [chuckles softly] Also, while I said I would help you, it doesn’t mean you won’t have to pay the price.

LZY: After all, I don’t do business at a loss.

LZY: You still have time to think about… what you can give to pay me.

My heart is filled to the brim. I wrap my arms around his shoulders, bury my face in the crook of his neck, and release a sigh of contentment.

The throbbing and undulations of his chest pound against my body again and again, and even the depths of my very soul seem to be trembling along with the motion––

Filling up my entire being.

──────────────────────────────────────────

[wayfayrr]

Hello!

If it's alright with you, can I get a spiked Latte and some Christmas pudding to eat in please?

I absolutely love your writings and all of your works! You're definitely one of my favorite authors (*´꒳`*)

I hope you have a great day/night and a Happy Holiday!

- 𐂂 anon (if that's okay with you ʕ •ᴥ•ʔ)

it's more than alright!! welcome to this little corner of our hellsite elk!! (if you don't mind me calling you that ofc) I've seen you over on fir's blog assuming this is the same 𐂂 and it's lovely to meet you myself, I hope you're having a lovely day too <3

I wrote this one as a continuation to the other first request seeing as it flowed well and felt like the most natural thing to do. I hope you'll enjoy your order and your time here <3

[event masterlist]

“My deity? Is this not to your taste, did - did I do something wrong?”

What am I supposed to say to that? I feel like I’m about to throw up or pass out, not to mention the countless things in between. He’s standing in front of me with a bloody heart, all the while looking at me like a puppy begging for approval. 

“You - wh- where-”

don’tpassoutdon’tpassoutdon’tpassoutDON’TPASSOUT

[name] if you pass out here then none of the links will be able to help you, you cannot pass out. Just - just ask him to get rid of it, but he looked so proud of it. 

“Ple- please can you just… I don’t need that, can you… just - please get rid of it.”

He seemed dejected when I said that but he -thankfully- didn’t question it. Just left without another word with a defeated look on his face now leaving me all alone to settle myself enough to try get some sleep. Just - just have to get the image of that out of my head,  else I might never be able to sleep till I do. Maybe the others wouldn’t mind me going to share a room with one of them for the night but there’s always the chance they won’t let me live this down they have gone through worse than I have after all. No, it’s not worth the chance of embarrassing yourself infront of them like that, you’re fine in here on your own all you need to do is get changed and get into bed it’s easy; what chance will you have to get in a normal bed again anyway?

Going through the familiar motions of getting changed is grounding, calming even, throwing myself onto the bed and wrapping myself up in the plush blanket just helps even more. Falling asleep really won’t be hard. 

Mhpm why am I up? It’s not that much darker so I can’t have been asleep for much more than half an hour or so and I’ve never been a light sleeper like this. Who’s in the bed with me?

There’s a hand around you - look at that and then panic. Why is it cove-

“...First?”

“My deity? I thought you were sleeping?”

“And I - I - you… I - didn’t you say - didn’t I ask you to get rid of the blood?”

Oh fuck. Why is he holding me tighter now and… he’s sobbing. My back’s getting wet but it's not blood I hope, he’s just using me as a - a pillow. What did hylia do to him to mess him up this badly? From what he said before…she had to have something to do with why he’s like this. He can’t even breathe through his tears right now…

“Firs- link. Can we talk about - you know - all of this?”

Just more tears and half-hearted breaths. Is he forcing himself to be like this? Maybe if I can hold him it’ll help comfort him somehow. He- he has surprisingly strong arms considering, you shouldn’t be surprised, he probably beat that man to death with his bare hands, the fact that he was tortured and starved in a dungeon for who knows how long. 

“If not now… In the morning at least? Please?” 

A pout and a wet sniffle while he wipes his eyes to calm himself. 

“You know acting like this - it isn’t healthy. I - you can’t go around gifting me peoples hearts - that - that is not normal.”

“... if you say I must my deity.”

I’ll take it. 

Even with the puppy dog eyes he’s making at me.

[quinloki]

That fic... omg... Yandere Kaku feels similar to Sabo in that you think he's just so sweet, someone you'd never suspect until it's too late. Just a terrifying individual capable of violence you wouldn't imagine, but still treats you with the deceptive softness that got you to let your guard down in the first place.

Oh yes, mostly certainly.

Yandere Kaku and Yandere Sabo have a good bit of overlap.

Kaku, I think, enjoys the chase more than Sabo, and won't go to as many lengths to ensure you don't run. They're both probably faster than you, but Kaku enjoys leaping from building to building. Parkour is amazing, and it's good to wear him out a little anyway, so that all he can do is take you back home.

Otherwise the joy and adrenaline might have him taking you right where ever he happens to have found you.

Sabo, more of a planner, is less likely to have to resort to severe punishments, but! I think he's more apt to be go overboard than Kaku. Which, I just mean, Kaku is a little less unhinged.

Kaku is certainly more Boy Next Door, and Sabo more a Proper Gentleman, but there's boyish charm in both of them, so there's certainly overlap.

It's absolutely terrifying the way they can smile so brightly, so beautifully, so PURE, and have it be utterly terrifying. Because it will only be terrifying to you, who knows, and not to the marine who is letting him leave with you, a mix of confusion and distorted understanding on his face.

Cause you really look like you want to be saved, but he's been reassured so completely.

[yuri-is-online]

Have you ever seen the show You on Netflix? I'm watching the pilot right bow and all i can think is "yander jade yandere jade yandere jade" cause some of the shit Joe Goldberg says? "Sometimes the most valuable things are the most helpless" "people are just so. Disappointing" like?? Jade??? Bro is that you in some sick obsessed alternate timeline???? The calm insanity of these two characters just. Overlap. I usually don't fuck with yanderes but i can weirdly see this?

I do not actually have a netflix subscription so I have not. But I do know a little bit about what you are referring to because it's based off of a book I watched a lot of reviews for *checks youtube* five fucking years ago???? (O_O;)

I like yandere stuff to an extent. I'm not crazy about the ones that like hurting their darlings. One or two murder attempts is fine, I can be more lenient if they're like enemies on the opposing sides of a war but wanting to torture someone is a bit much. Also not a huge fan of ones who jump from darling to darling, thought those can be fun as villains. As for yandere Jade（｀∀´ハ|

>"Sometimes the most valuable things are the most helpless"

Jade mentions he likes making terrariums because of the story of the Sea Witch trapping creatures in them. Maybe he could trap Yuu in a terrarium? Oh that would be so cute, he would make it so perfect they'd just love it.

>"people are just so. Disappointing"

Jade says he found Yuu boring at first, but that's not how he thinks about them now >:] He finds a lot of people not worth his time until they do something he deems exciting, so when he decides Yuu is exciting... well he can be a bit obsessed. As a treat. He already has all the magicam information including the stuff attached to the private accounts of all the Octavinelle freshmen... he might see cracking into what make Yuu ticks since they have no digital footprint as a challenge! How exciting and unpredictable just the way he likes it.

[yandereunsolved]

Hello!

So I had this idea for a yandare oneshot about Kit Walker from AHS Asylum and I was wondering if I could maybe request it to you... It goes like this:

A yandere female nun who is secretly obsessed with Kit while he's an inmate in Briarcliff, so one day she goes to the extreme and assaults him while he is in bed or something

I would really appreciate it if you could shape this idea into a oneshot xxx

God's Design - ,, yandere fem. reader nun × kit walker

tw(s): yandere themes, physical assault, suggestive themes, toxic religious ideals, dubcon kissing, semi-graphic gore word count: 2.5k a/n: thank you, anon! Hope I fulfilled your request correctly. :)

The halls of Briarcliff almost near cease their cacophonous noises: patients screaming at the top of their lungs, the pipes straining from being overused, the sound of the orderlies correcting someone, and the loudest of them all was the noise of God. That nagging feeling in the back of your head whenever a sinful thought came to mind. How tempting the devil had made those thoughts to your malleable mind. One moment you were praying with your rosary, and the next your hand was slipping down towards your frilly-laced underwear. 

It was an unspoken rule to never adorn anything provocative, nothing possibly pleasing to the eye. It was a rule that every nun held sacred. Not allowing men's eyes to stray was the woman's job. Those were the rules set within the pages of the holy book.

Despite that, all you wanted to do was make his eyes stray. From the first time you saw him, you could feel your determination crumble. That holiness within you began to shrivel up like a prune. You began wearing lingerie under your uniform, teasing yourself at night. You began fantasizing about what a night with him would look like. You had never been with a man before. You had promised that you would wait until marriage.

They call him Bloody Face, but he didn't have the eyes of a killer. No, his hazel irises encapsulated much more of a lamb to the slaughter, a spooked doe in the field of life. Those eyes have called to you since you first glanced at them. They were drawing you in like a sailor at sea. Only the sea you have yet to sail is one of the most forbidden ones—the seven sinful seas. All you yearn to do is explore lust, dip your toes into its waters, and relinquish control of your sails to allow the winds of sensuality to guide you. 

You sneaked peeks at him in-between your normal shift. You tried your hardest to suppress these bubbling desires. Every time you popped one another, a few would float to the surface. It was like a never-ending cycle of torture. Each peek and small exchange left you wanting more of him. You wanted to devour him entirely, to wholeheartedly feel him in ecstasy. You wanted to see those tears and puppy-like expressions directed at you. You didn't. You still don't want any of the other nuns near him. 

You sat at the foot of your bed for many hours that fateful night. You re-read many biblical passages to set yourself right. Losing yourself in your bodily flesh would be a great sin, wouldn't it? Your mind brimming with these detestable daydreams only led you to seek further counsel. You prayed to the highest angels and saints and to the great God himself for guidance on what was to become of you.

'1st Corinthians 6:18— Flee immorality. Every other sin that a man commits is outside the body, but the immoral man sins against his own body.'

You repeated it quietly, with your hands ardently colliding together. The other night, there had just been a slip in your judgment. You hadn't meant to walk past his cell and feel your body grow hotter. You hadn't meant to skip your nightly devotional in favor of more covetous inclinations. You hadn't meant to slip on that white, satiny baby doll and admire yourself in it. You hadn't meant to almost break into his room and show yourself to him like a needy whore.

How vile! You recoil from your bedside at your own enervated nature and decrepit mind. The devil is tempting you and your womanly nature. You took a vow—an oath. You have to wait until your marriage. You have to wait for your man. 

He killed women after all. He is not a man of God. He is a man of pure sin. He is a man of cruelty and evil. He could be the devil himself, trying to tempt you into impurity. Yet you wanted to allow him in.

'1st Thessolonians 4:3— For this is the will of God, your sanctification; that is, that you abstain from sexual immorality.'

You read again. Your eyes are blurred as heavy droplets of your own suppressed sexuality bleed onto the pages filled with divinity. You were slipping. Are you losing your devotion to God? Are you losing your devotion to the cause of saving these twisted souls?

No, you assure yourself. This must be God's calling for you. He's telling you that Kit is innocent. He's compelling you to marry this man. He's urging you to find sanctity within his arms. God knows he is your future husband. That's why you feel this way! It has to be. 

In the next few weeks, you will begin to add Kit to your normal schedule. You assure the other sisters that you want to take on the challenge of caring for such a dangerous man. Sister Mary Eunice keeps giving you weird side glances and avoiding you, but you don't quite care. Her overall attitude has changed towards Briarcliff, but so has yours. You've found your purpose now. 

Every interaction with him fuels your desire to be his wife. You flirt with him subtly. When he gives you that curious expression you brush it off with a certain amount of charm and naive innocence. Your attempts at courting him are clumsy at best. Yet, it seems to be working well enough.  

You keep him away from Grace forever. They had been growing too close. They had been through too much. You planted fake evidence in her room so that she would get punished. You whispered rumors around her and sowed distrust in their once-inseparable bond. You make her life a hell of your own making. One even worse than the walls inside Briarcliff had given her. 

You saw the wedge growing in their relationship because of you. You planted yourself in her place, like a sprout replacing an invasive weed. You always slipped him extra food when it came time. You always read the Bible with him; he gave his life to Christ because of you. You both shared your most intimate secrets in the dead of night. Your relationship had grown to be something even God would envy.

That bitch just had to go and sow discord into your plentiful relationship.

You walked into the kitchen with a batch of dough that needed to set for a few hours. Your eyes widened in horror at what you saw, your pupils dilating to adjust to the lack of light in the kitchen. The large bowl slipped from your hands and crashed onto the floor. You turned around and bolted away like a frightened rabbit. You couldn't even stand to look at the scene for more than a moment. It was like seeing an angel get its wings torn off while falling from paradise.

That succubus was defiling your man. His head was thrown back in pure ecstasy—a dream in your head that you wanted to be between the both of you. Instead, that leech had him in between her legs. They were both in sync, their souls and hearts intertwined. It tore what little self-restraint you had to pieces. You could no longer wait for him to realize God's plan for the both of you.

In the dead of night, after both earned their punishment, you sneak into her room. A kitchen knife lies in your left hand, right behind your back. You'll stab her and make her feel the excruciating agony you felt. Every last drop of it. You enter her room swiftly with a slightly unhinged grin gracing your shadowed features.

She turns and gives you a surprised expression. Her stomach rumbles as she is expecting a bland dinner with as much nutrition as a wet rock. She blinks wearily as you move towards her. She seems apprehensive, but her body language is mostly relaxed. You were the one person who always seemed to be there for her. You were there for every patient. That's what made you everyone's favorite nun.

"Sister?" She calls out anxiously as she wraps an arm around her midsection. "Is dinner late? Or is this concerning my sterilization?"

"Oh, Grace." You murmur in a frenzied manner.

She backs away against the wall as her eyes dart quickly towards the door and back at you. You had locked the door, and your key was somewhere under your garments. She really didn't want to have to grope you to escape. Still, if you did have ill intentions towards her, she'd do whatever she needed to survive. 

"God gave me a Revelation. I found it in my Bible."

You move towards her and swing the knife clumsily. You were a nun, not a murderer. You weren't a murderer until your one true love came along. He just makes you a little unhinged sometimes. It's all in God's plan.

She stumbles back as her palms rest against the stone walls. Her breaths become frantic as her heart speedily beats. She goes into survival mode. A punch is thrown at you as her eyebrows furrow in concentration.

"What the hell! Doesn't your little book tell you not to murder or something?" She screams in a high-pitched tone, doing her best to possibly get someone's attention in this damned hellhole. 

She begins to shriek like a banshee as she fruitlessly struggles against you. Your free hand wraps around her wrist as you sink the knife into her throat. It makes a satisfying squelch as it slices through her skin like a knife through hot butter. She bucks against you like a wild bull as the sanguine fluid spurts out of her gaping wound. 

Another strangled scream escapes from her cracked lips. Her cries and wails fuel your murderous rage as your knife continuously sinks into her supple flesh. You stab, and stab, and stab for what feels like hours on end. You make sure she knows how much she betrayed you. How much she betrayed her Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ.

Eventually, her body and mind fail her. She slumps against your figure as the light escapes her eyes swiftly. Her soul is forced out of her body as she becomes a permanent part of Briarcliff. You giggle and smile as the knife digs into her heart. You carve it out of her chest and stab it for the umpteenth time. It squirts out more of her sinful, gooey fluid.

You stare at her limp, lifeless body. Your rage cools a few moments after that. You have no regrets. In the eyes of God you were doing something holy.

"I gave her time to repent, and she did not want to repent of her immorality." You state passively as you grimace at her corpse.

You'll clean yourself and then tell everyone tomorrow that a crazed patient broke into her cell and killed her. You are the asylum's perfect little golden nun, after all. No one will suspect a thing, just as they shouldn't. Visting her was only your first stop tonight. Your second and final, Kit's holding cell.

You slip through the darkened halls with a spring in your elated step. You stopped at your room to wash off and get rid of the kitchen knife. You slip into that precious baby doll as you put your coveted uniform over top of it. You smile in the mirror gently, your spirits as high as the heavens. 

Entire months now come down to these few moments. Your figure slips into his room. The poor thing is still strapped to his bed. Bruises line his toned figure. The paper-thin blanket barely covers his body. His thick, white hospital shirt ridding up, exposing his v-line and abs. His chest is gently moving up and down, calling to you.

You don't want to interrupt your man's slumber, but you need him to know the truth. You climb on top of his sleeping body. Each of your thighs straddling his side. One of your hands reaches down to his exposed stomach as you trail feather light touches over it. An overly excited giggle escapes your lips. 

It has all led up to this moment. Your meeting, your small talk, and your private moments. Those torturous minutes that turned into hours transformed into days in which you were barely able to see a glimpse of him. You spent all those nights praying for a man, and now you have the one that God meant for you. You'll make him forget all about that whore who besmirched him. 

"I wore something just for you, Kit." You whisper those honeyed words into the soft flesh of his pale ear.

You press a hungry kiss onto his lips as your nails dig into him. He bolts awake and panicks as his mind tries to sluggishly process what is happening. He struggles against you for a moment as his pupils dilate to adjust to the surrounding darkness. He recognizes you as his hands grip onto the sides of your thighs. A strangled groan escapes his lips as your assault on them doesn't stop.

"Sugah, slow down now." He murmurs gently with a purr escaping his velvety throat.

His lips don't resist you but return your fervent devotion to his. Everything stops in those moments as the world fades to black. There's nothing more to the both of you than two touch-starved bodies that crave an intimate connection. It was as if, in that moment, both of your hearts became one; your souls had found each other after so long.

Kit hadn't realized how starving he had been. Not just of mind but also of body. This pure sense of need wasn't something he got from Grace or Alma. Somehow, theirs was something corruptly desperate. Yours was nothing more than a divine and guttural urgency for his presence. Your movements were like those of a follower pleasing their divine being.

Everything that happened so far was for this moment. It was worth every single moment. It was worth getting caught with Grace. To see that absolute expression of anguish in those saintly irises of yours. He knew it would drive you right over the edge. He knew you wouldn't be able to resist him after that. He just wanted needed to have a pretty little nun save him from his sins.

"No, no, I can't. We were meant to be. I—"

Kit cuts you off as his hands curl around the edges of your uniform. He presses his forehead against yours intimately as he looks up at you with those doey hazel eyes. A short pant escapes his mouth as he tries to form words. It proves difficult because his entire being is yearning for the proximity of yours.

"I love you." He croaks out in pure bliss. His mouth moves from sacred lips down to the inviting nape of your neck.

God's design? No, it was his.

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈

✎...ღ taglist: @coentinim @cxndiedvi0lets @nahoyasboyfriend @bluerthanvelvet444

[ovwechoes]

Twin Obsessions: Sombra x Reader (Fem)

Thank you for the request @dolenjoyer304 ! Here's a short yandere fic - any opinions or suggestions are always accepted, and my requests are open for anything/everything overwatch related c: Themes: obsession, stalking, mutual feelings, WLW, blood, drug use/mention & suggestive slightly. Enjoy!

Sombra was everything you wanted. That much was clear to anyone who knew you. All you wanted was her, and your love for her to be accepted, nourished, cherished. You were willing to do anything you could to achieve this, no matter who you had to walk over.

It was something instinctual when you first saw her, as though she was made perfectly for you. You were just enjoying your day, exploring your newfound home in Dorado, trying to stay safe away from any violence that passed your way when you noticed her in the shadows. Her hair glowed in the darkness, underneath her hood. You didn't know who she was at first, and when you tried to take a picture to show someone else incase they knew, she was gone. It was just a split second, and yet you were already left feeling lonely, as though part of you was missing. All you could truly remember about her, was her eyes. Her eyes spoke to you in a way no one else's ever had. 'I want you'. That's what you saw when you looked into her brown, intense, almost black eyes. You were mesmerised from the moment you saw her in Mexico, and you wanted nothing more but to be hers, to show her the love she deserved. You spent weeks trying to find out her possible identity, and even went to extreme lengths of blackmailing Los Muertos members into telling you who she was. It was all worth it; you had found out her name was Sombra, she's from Dorado as well, and she's an infamous hacker who was especially known for her skills with manipulation and blackmail. She was perfect for you, and you knew from that moment on, that you would do anything to make her yours.

Part of that was perfecting your hacking skills and making sure you were up to par to be in her realm. You knew she would trust you more if you knew what you were talking about, so you made it your mission to hone in on your skills and master your ability to hack, manipulate, and control media at your whim. It was something you drove yourself insane trying to do, and went through hell and back to get done, but it was worth it when you were able to get through to Sombra's personal computer. Using every connection you could in the hacker realm was finally paying off.

You had access to her photos, her plans, her data breaches, her intel on other organisations, everything. So, you started digging. Digging for anything to help you figure out how she felt about you. You found her exes, she still kept them saved in her emails and contacts. Pathetic. It's somewhat adorable, but you knew you were going to be better for her, and knew you could make her feel something entirely different to them. They were nothing compared to you. And so, you kept digging, searching for something you can use to figure out where she was, where she was going to be, who she was going to be with. Anything you could get your hands on was yours. And that's when you found it - an invitation to an underground rave, being held in an abandoned nightclub in the outskirts of Dorado. This was your chance, maybe your only chance. You noticed another name on the invite, one you didn't recognise at this moment; Carmen Reyes. Whoever that was, they didn't deserve to be going with Sombra. It made your stomach drop seeing someone else possibly with her. Your mind was flooded with the possibilities of what might happen, and it made you feel nauseous, like it was cosmically wrong. You had no option but to fix this mistake, and show Olivia who she truly deserves to have in her life.

The night of the rave, you made sure to wear something you could easily dispose of. Something revealing though, to show off your curves and show Olivia how desirable you are. Maybe she'll leave this Carmen and choose you once and for all. Just maybe. It's something you were willing to try before resorting to it. That was always still going to be a possibility, so you brought with you a pocket knife - nothing fancy, but just enough to rectify this mistake if needed. All you were now focused on was meeting Olivia again, and showing her how much you love her. This rave was the perfect place to go.

You had doctored an invite based on Olivia's with your own name, and made sure it was undetectable as an entry pass. You weren't willing to risk being stopped at the door like you were nothing. You had an objective, and you would do anything to complete it. As you entered the club, you noticed truly how beautiful it was. You don't know what you were expecting, but it wasn't this. 'Sombra has impeccable taste' you thought to yourself. And she truly did. The nightclub was high-tech, despite looking decrepit and ruined on the outside. Lights flickered across the room, highlighting the bodies squashed against each other like sardines in a tin can. You were transfixed by the level of tech you saw being sold around the edges of the warehouse; optical enhancements, AR implants, biometric scanner bypassers, nanotechnology, and synthetic drugs meant to induce an acid trip that lasts days on end. You knew this rave was a front for the black market, and yet you weren't scared. You were surrounded by criminals, and yet never felt safer knowing Olivia was somewhere in the room with you.

That's when you felt it; a cold, metal hand holding your shoulder from behind. You somehow knew it was a familiar woman, someone you were looking for. Deep down you knew, and yet you were terrified to turn around. When you did, you were greeted by Olivia's cunning and slick smile. Confusion set, and you stared on at her in awe. She was more beautiful than the first time you saw her - her eyes looked pitch black when the lights of the rave weren't shining on them, her skin soft and delicate. You wanted to touch it, feel it under your fingertips, trace every outline of her body, but needed to keep yourself composed.

"I know why you're here, mija." She said in a sly way, as though she was a wolf toying with it's prey, observing it's every move to analyse it's reactions. She savoured in your confusion, and you felt tiny underneath her gaze. How could she have known? Does this mean she doesn't feel the same way? You couldn't stop thinking of the negatives. You felt disgusted knowing she knew and yet still came with someone else. How could she. Before you could speak, and unfamiliar voice chimed in and interrupted your moment. It was her. You knew it was. Carmen Reyes. You already felt sick to your stomach looking at her - the total opposite of you. How could Sombra, of all people, have good taste in events but have such terrible taste in women? It confused you, but not long enough before she uttered something to Olivia in an abrupt manner.

"Come on, what are you doing? I thought we were going to get a bump. Who is this anyways?" Carmen spoke, before moving her gaze from Sombra to you, with her expression shifting from confused to disgusted. You were appalled that Olivia would accept someone like her into her life, it was deplorable. You stared back at her, eager to somehow make her regret her choices. Sombra laughed, didn't bother to reply to her but kissed her cheek and spoke to you in a soft, kind manner. "Enjoy yourself for me, you deserve it." She said, before being led to the bathrooms by Carmen, leaving you high and dry, feeling nauseated and sickened by what you just experienced. You gave yourself some time to think logically what to do next, but the anger inside you couldn't be tamed, and you had no other option but to do it. It's lucky that you prepared for this scenario.

As you watched them fade into the darkness of the nightclub, you calculated your next moves carefully. You let the anger inside you drive your desire to get rid of Carmen. Sombra didn't deserve her, she deserved you. You could make her happy, and could make her feel whole. You could give her everything she could possibly ever ask for, and yet why is she following Carmen? As she walked away, you noticed her eyes returning back to you, a smile plastered on her face, tempting you. She wanted you to follow. You knew she did. Just like you knew the first time she wanted you from her eyes.

You decided to wait longer, give yourself some more time to create distance between you and Carmen. You fiddled with the pocket knife in your hands, tracing the blade and recognising the feeling of burning blood seeping from your fingertip. That's when you realised, it wouldn't be enough. You decided to find something else, something better, to punish Carmen with at one of the several venders selling illegal weapons. 'If I'm going to kill her, I might as well do it with something worth my time', you thought to yourself. As long as it hurt her, and made clear to Olivia how undeserving of her love she is, it would work. You saw the perfect weapon after spending 10 minutes window shopping; a holo-dagger. It was an infamous stealth weapon, with a blade that was near invisible when retracted from it's handle. It was small enough to be concealed, and deadly enough to do exactly what you wanted. It was a hefty price, but nothing could cost as much as Olivia's love for you would in the long run. You bought it, and ditched your pocket knife. There was no need for it anymore, and you were ready now to follow them into the bathroom.

As you entered the bathroom, you immediately could smell the air was thick with the familiar scent of sex and neuroflare, a synthetic drug that had the same effect as Adderall with a euphoric high like weed. It was a sickly sweet smell, as though you mixed vanilla with sweat and bodily fluids. It was enough to get you high alone, but you made sure to focus. You saw littered along the walls graffiti tags from all kinds of criminals (none of whom you recognised), with the tiniest symbol that you knew was associated with Sombra and her line of work on the very last stall. No one else was there, and you knew they were cooped up in that last stall based on the sounds of sniffling, and coughing you heard coming from there. This was the perfect moment to strike, and nothing was stopping you now.

As you slammed on the door as hard as you could, you heard shuffling and scattered swears in a mixture of English and Spanish. As they slowly unlocked the door, you were greeted with the familiar, comforting sight of Olivia, looking dishevelled and messy. Her eyes were cunning, hiding something inside her. And just as she was about to speak, a familiar, rotten voice bombarded your ears. "I knew you'd follow us, who even are you? What do you want, freak?" Carmen spoke, her words filled with venom as her hands rubbed her nose restlessly. Her ugliness shone through from inside her, and it reassured you that your plans were justified. You stood there silently, watching Carmen shove herself past Olivia as though she was a guard dog - not much of one though.

As she shouted cruel, vile things at you, pushing you against the sinks across the stalls, piercing you with her nails in a pathetic attempt of dominating you, you prepared the holo-dagger and pushed the blade from it's handle. She had no idea what was to come, and you felt adrenaline rush through you body, encouraging you to do what you had to this whole time. The blade pierced her stomach quickly, subsequently quieting the harsh voice that pierced your ears before. Her hands grabbed at your clothes, desperate to hold onto you to keep herself up. You kept moving the blade and subsequently covering yourself with her blood. It felt... euphoric. Who needed drugs when you could get rid of someone who stood between you and your loved one? Your soulmate, even? As she slid down your body, and went limp, Olivia stepped over Carmen's body and moved closer to you, barely paying attention to the person she was once loved up on. What was she going to do? Run? Hide? Cry? You didn't know, and the anxiety killed you deep down.

"I didn't think you had it in you for a second, cariño. And a holo-dagger too? Must've cost you a pretty penny." She stated, her smile growing bigger and stretching as her hands wandered towards yours, touching the blade of the dagger with admiration. Her eyes looked into yours and that's when you realised something. "You knew I hacked you didn't you? That's what you meant before, right?" you asked, somewhat impressed, and somewhat nervous. Your stomach had butterflies, and you couldn't think clearly after everything that happened in front of you. All that Olivia did was smile, and place a hand on your chin, holding the gaze you both held in place. "Of course, do you really think I wouldn't see everything you were doing? Who's to say I didn't let you hack me? I saw it all, I'm just surprised you didn't know I was watching everything you did too." Her cunning personality shone through her words, as she continued explaining herself. Everything was starting to piece itself together.

"I wanted to test you, see if you felt the same way I did about you. From the moment I saw you in the street, I knew you were the one. After I saw you, I couldn't stop thinking about you, mi vida. I watched everything you did, everything you planned, and saw the anger on your face when you read her name on the invite. You're the only one I want, and you've proven yourself to me." Her words were sophisticated, carefully crafted, as though she read your mind and knew exactly what you wanted her to say in an idealistic world. A sudden wave of relaxation hit you, and you finally understood she was just like you. She was enamoured with you, faking her affections for Carmen just to see what you'd do. It was both infuriating and incredibly considerate. You finally felt the way you wanted to - loved and understood. This wasn't the end though, and as you both stood there, stained with crimson blood that seeped into your skin, you both knew that this was just the beginning. There's no going back, Sombra made it clear that you couldn't leave now after your twin obsessions were finally exposed for what they truly were.

[gladiatorcunt]

Hi! Can I request a scenario or one shot (whichever you prefer) with Anakin loving to touch/grab Y/N’s butt?

Hi, and yes you can <3

Anakin Skywalker is an ass man through and through. Before you had taken the plunge and taken your friendship to the next level, you could practically feel his eyes burning holes into your ass. No matter how far you were standing away from him, he'd always find himself devoting every ounce of his attention to what he's honestly convinced is a gift from a higher power.

You were only shocked the first time, but it was a bit silly in hindsight when you realized just how "close" Anakin liked to be with you. He drags his eyes and hands all over your body no matter your relationship, he's just a very physical person with the one he loves. (Though you don't let yourself think about in what way until it's too late.)

He immediately grabbed two big handfuls of your ass when you had your first kiss. It's like he was spending just as much time and effort groping the fat globes as he was sucking the soul out of your tongue.

Smacking your ass is how he starts his day and giving each cheek a rough but loving squeeze is how he ends it. His default sleeping/cuddling position is your leg thrown over his torso and him keeping you there with a firm hand on your ass. His grip is so tight that you can't even roll over if it starts to get uncomfortable.

Sometimes he prefers to laze around in bed and marvel at the sight of your plump flesh in the inescapable hold of his prosthetic arm. The glint of the metal bouncing off the shimmer of your skin. He'd rather lose his other arm than hurt you, but he does enjoy pinching and prodding at your ass cheeks until there are hoards of red welts and finger shaped bruises.

He'll nuzzle when he's giving you aftercare and cleaning you up, paying extra special attention to the area. You wonder if he drags it out so long just so he'd have an excuse to paw at it, but he does that regardless of the situation, time, or place.

You're embarrassed to recall the instances where in the beginning, when you were nothing more than "very good" friends, you would spend hours debating with your handmaids over which dress made your butt look better. Which one would drive him to the point of no return, and which one would coax the drool to flow from his maw like a river of milk and honey. You used to wait until you knew he was already looking (he always was) so you could coyly drop something and bend over right in his face to pick it up.

You still do it; Anakin has come to anticipate it in every waking moment. He has to smother his hungry smile under his palms, or you'll lose the nerve.

His obsession's most tender form shows itself when he returns to their chambers after a harrowing mission or a grueling meeting with the council.

The doors slide open to reveal your tired husband, his body and soul no doubt needing to be mended in your arms. So you let him envelop you with his entire being, you allow his weight to make you sink further into the bed until you're pinned. Whether he wants to rut against you or just lie on top of you for the rest of his days and past them to the death of the universe, you are ready to receive him.

He simply shimmies his way down your back today and rests his weary head on the swell of your ass. Your boy king of the stars lets his glittering cloak of unfathomable responsibilities crumble to dust over your soft jiggling skin. Ani skirts the tip of his nose along your ass crack like he's giving it a nose kiss in greeting. He flattens his tongue and drags it up and down through whatever enticing garment you're donning, getting it and you soaked in seconds flat.

"Missed you, angel."

He is not talking to you.

faetreides 2024

[pigeonpeach]

saw your yandere post and made me think about yandere Jean. What you your take be on her? Oh this isn’t a fic request just wanted to know your thoughts more.

My take on a yandere Jean follows closely with the protector/ morally ‘righteous’ yandere concept. Where the Yandere tries to rationalize their behavior with things like their paranoia or try to minimize their actions to themselves. How this would manifest with Jean to me is that she wouldn’t kill a competitor unless she had to. More likely than not she’d chose to sabotage or threaten whatever suitor or obstacles come in her way and considering her rank she can easily get away with it. Who in their right mind would bother competing against the ACTING GRAND MASTER OF THE KNIGHTS OF FAVONIUS? Not many would. (Unless it was someone like Diluc who also has alot of status themselves and this wouldn’t easily back down)

Jean is easily a very charming lady. She’s known for being helpful and kind and there’s hardly anyone in Mondstadt who dislikes her. So to me she qould very likely win over her beloved’s heart. She’s a romantic too so she isn’t oblivious. Worst case scenario would be if you kept denying her and trying to date others which would ultimately lead to the typical basement jail scenario. But again, Jean is the Acting Grand Master, in the eyes of any who would know, they’d hesitate to rescue or even try. Jean’s such a hard worker and surely if its just one person held captive its not that bad right? You aren’t being tortured or harmed in any way, she’d never allow such a thing. Any long term disobedience or repeated escape attempts would drive her to other methods than abuse but possibly drugging. She does have Lisa at her disposal afterall. But ideally she’d like to win your heart naturally rather than forcibly. But if she already had to kidnap you and has to restrict you more and more to prevent escaped, she’ll consider you a threat to your own safety.

As for Jean’s mentality, while she would deny being entitled or selfish, she ultimately is. That’s at the core of every Yandere character. Yes she doesn’t burn or scar you, your bed is comfy, you are fed tasty and lavish meals, she won’t force intimacy or anything like that, but ultimately you’re still being held against your will with no sign of rescue in sight. So the best option might just be to play along. Or plan to disappear entirely into the wilderness and never surface again.

[inkblot22]

(PS I don’t actually know the source material for idia I just stumbled upon one of your fics while looking at FFXIV Yandere fics so sorry if this sounds OOC)

I’m not super creative but what do you think might actually be Idia’ routine with his darling? Does he fall into any routine, does it change a lot?

Have a wonderful day (and happy late bunny day!) 🫶

I actually am of the opinion that this is a very creative thought! You should give yourself more credit. I like to idealize the day to day life, but it never occurred to me that writing it down might be a good idea. On that sentiment, I think maybe Vil or even Leona would have a better day to day routine. Dividers by @/cafekitsune

Also, wow, what a pipeline, FFXIV to twst?? You've got good taste lmao welcome to my blog.

I'll put this under the cut, and I'm also not promising that this will be very good. I use the 24 hour clock. I am constantly getting told irl that American people don't do that, but I'm evil, so I'm putting the times in 24 hour clock format.

TW for mentions of noncon, coercion, captivity, someone keeping someone else awake, a hint of Idia being an asshole

+ Idia doesn't really seem like he has much of a set schedule, but Ortho absolutely does and Ortho is lowkey kind of bossy, so...

+ Yeah uh, Idia's partner is absolutely out of luck. Idia likes night gaming a lot, and he gets loud, so good luck sleeping. Idia himself goes to bed late and wakes up whenever the heck he wakes up. He could go to bed at 0300 in the morning and wake up again at 0700.

+ As his kept partner, the schedule is a little more normal, like I said. Ortho doesn't really need to sleep from what I understand, (I haven't read all of book 6, no spoilers or else I WILL temporarily block you) but it's silly to imagine that he doesn't wake up or attempt to wake up everyone else around him as early as 0600.

+ After waking up, Idia will eat breakfast. I think it'd be delivered usually since Idia and his partner are basement dwellers, one by nature and the other by force. After breakfast begins work...

+ Or procrastination. Idia flip flops between extreme focus on what he should be doing and what he should not be doing. He manages to get his schoolwork done, but more often than not, he's asking his partner to cuddle up and watch a movie, drama, or his fingers flying across the keyboard. Idia will not ask them to cuddle if he is doing schoolwork or virtually attending classes.

+ I like to think that he smells smoky, on account of the flaming hair, and he runs hot, so prepare to SWEAT. In the case his partner doesn't really want to hang out with him, he will usually sulk and only occasionally get upset to the point of doing something about it.

+ I don't think he showers every day. I think he's an every other day type of showerer, based solely on him not being particularly active. This means that his partner doesn't have to run on his showering schedule and gets extra hot water on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.

+ By the way, in the case that Idia's darling ever gets peckish, Idia has a snack stash that he proudly pulled out and showed them as soon as they were allowed to wander a bit. I figure they get hungry some time around 1400, especially if Idia is also eating at that time.

+ I think his metabolism is fast, but also a bit odd. He is a young person, and therefore he strikes me as the type to get randomly hungry. If asked very nicely (and with the promise of physical affection in some form) he'd be incredibly willing to make his partner something to munch on when he makes his own.

+ Despite Idia's partner being literally held captive in his room, with all his suspicious items and, worst of all, himself, Idia is about as respectful as a kidnapper can be about demanding sex. He doesn't like to be physically forceful about it, and he often will just jerk off in the bathroom.

+ The reason for this is very simple: If Ortho ever saw Idia having sex with ANYONE, Idia would spontaneously combust. Well, obviously he doesn't know that for certain, but it's a theory that he is not willing to test. He won't even talk about his preferences around his little brother.

+ As far as I'm aware, most people in captive situations do not tend to ask their kidnapper to fuck them unless they're being threatened in some way, but Idia's partner isn't typically being threatened (ignore the shock collar,) so they never ask Idia to have sex.

+ This does not stop Idia from being a whiny bitch about not having sex enough as soon as Ortho is gone for a few hours. The close quarters and sudden advent of a human being who he doesn't mind touching him is a big thing for Idia.

+ Ortho goes on "walks" in a sort of unusual schedule. That is to say that he doesn't have a schedule. If something needs to be picked up, he's tired of Idia not listening to him, he has his own stuff to do, or he just feels like it, Ortho will go out, sharing his location with Idia. From there, Idia will typically calculate how long it'd take Ortho to get back paired with whatever Ortho said he was going to do before he left, and see if he can squeeze in some coerced touching.

+ So. Good luck, Idia's partner. Idia will make a big stink until he gets bored or his partner gives in. His partner usually gives in, based on fear of what he might do alone.

+ Bedtime is somewhat randomized. If Ortho was out, when he comes back and it's any time after 2000, he will very subtly try to get Idia and his partner to start winding down. If both or one ignores him, he'll start getting upset.

+ Like I said, Ortho is kinda bossy. He will nag someone, and the worst part is that he's usually got their best interest in mind.

+On the off chance that Idia decides to go to bed at a decent time, he curls up behind his partner. He runs hot and smells smoky, and at some times it's not the worst thing. Some times.

+ By the way, a lot of this flies out the window in the event that Idia decides to attend classes in person. This is rare, so don't expect it to happen often, but it's not as good as it could be. Ortho goes with him and he locks up any way to reach the outside world, so all his partner has to entertain themselves is his manga collection, or the fun pastime of destruction of property. (This is a very bad idea, and I can expand on punishments later.)

+ In Idia's partner's case, every day is much of the same but just a little different, which makes it hard to keep track of time. The fact that Idia prefers low lighting and no natural light doesn't help this whatsoever.

[perfectlovevn]

what are milo's dreams like, and how often does he remember his dreams? does he keep track of them at all? what's the ratio of pleasant dreams to nightmares, assuming there's a distinction for him? any recurring elements in his dreams, like a location, memory, or similar motif?

is he a light, medium, or heavy sleeper? how fast does it take for him to fall asleep? is he the type to get up early or late in the morning? what about going to bed early vs. staying up late at night? any notable changes in behavior when he's sleepy? anything else of note about his dreams or sleeping habits?

PreMilo as you can tell by the bags under his eyes doesn’t sleep that well. I think for the most part, he doesn’t remember his dreams, though he does have quite a lot of nightmares (mostly of Ryan torturing him). Any good dreams are about his love and him going on dates or something sweet like that. And then he wakes up… and it’s not real. I think for his good dreams there’s probably something relating to sewing or knitting or one of his handcraft hobbies. Violence dreams of fighting ( I think it would be funny if he sleep boxed like Ron Swanson from Parks and Rec every now and then). Occasionally has nightmares where Poison comes and fight him, only for him to lose and drag you away from him. Manipulation probably actually knows how to lucid dream but when he feels anxious enough he dreams that you leave him and no amount of begging will ever bring you back.

I think he’s a pretty heavy sleeper since he doesn’t get enough sleep usually. When he does conk out it takes him a while to wake him, leading to him being floated down a river, drawn on, have cards balanced on him or having people try to make him pee himself. Violence and especially Manipulation Milo likely learned how to sleep lightly since they have to protect and look after you always. PreMilo takes forever to fall asleep because he always has bad thoughts that make it difficult for him. It’s a lot easier when he has a plushie or stuffed animal for him to hug. Violence and Manipulation sleep quickly when they have their love to hug. When they’re sleepy, PreMilo probably bumps into things a lot. Violence probably gets really irritated and Manipulation gets really paranoid. I imagine they all usually have a good bed schedule but whether they actually sleep is a different matter.

I think PreMilo carries a little pillow and a small blanket he made in his backpack when he knows he has time to nap. It wouldn’t be odd to see him sleeping on a bench with his blanket and pillow like it was a bed.

Perfect Milo, if he does dream only thinks about you. There is no one else and there will never be anyone else.

[oneknightstand-if]

hi, i saw on the valentines preview that one of the choices, the first choices, includes the word "g*psy". if you were not aware, the term originated as and is still used as a racial slur against romani people.

That's literally a direct quote from Hunchback of Notre Dame...

The evil archdeacon of 15th Century France is doing way worse than not using a modern PC term here (he's literally threatening to kill the heroine if she doesn't sleep with him).