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gojoath · 12 days

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ಣ ˖ ࣪࿐ྂ ILL GIVE YOU MY HEART, OKKOTSU YŪTA

you think it’s going well with yūta— the new guy you just started dating despite the way you’ve only seen eachother a handful of times. that’s exactly what he wants you to believe though, this is all going according to his plan.

summary. fem reader. yandere yūta. obsession. manipulation. stalking. yandere themes. aged up characters. love confessions (three dates in). promise ring mention. he’s basically love bombing you. first times together. inexperienced yuta -> virginity loss. face sitting. wc, 7.2k.

note. another repost for the series, thank you guys again for all the love you originally gave it :)

he did everything right, everything he had to to make sure you ended up like this. to make sure you fell for him the same way he did you,

yuuta knew exactly the type of guy he had to be. he knew you’d think it was cute, a funny work of fate that he was always there— seeking you out in the mundane and wiggling his way into your everyday routine. what are the chances that you both do your grocery shopping on tuesday nights? what are the chances he’s walking down the same street as you are on a thursday morning, just one over from your apartment? the only answer must be you’re soulmates, you think that too, don’t you?

it would be rude for you to refuse his invitation to take you out when the universe is trying so hard to put you two together. when he’s trying so hard to get you both together.

he’s been perfect, so polite and loving— good morning texts and constant adoration, showering you in compliments, he’s everything you’ll ever need. yuuta can still remember the way you held his hand on the first date— the way your eyes widened slightly before you sent him a cute look that made his cheeks flush, you looked a little surprised but it only made him want to hold you tighter. to never let you go.

it’s your third date now and he’s more sure now than ever that you’re both made for eachother. he’s able to recite your usual order in your favourite little cafe like it’s second nature as you sit there now, you don’t even pick up the menu before it’s rolling off his tongue and he thinks the shocked look on your face is adorable. hes sure your heart must be racing right now. knowing it was his first time here.

you don’t say anything though, you don’t mention it or tell him how much you liked that or love him, instead suddenly you can’t meet his gaze and yuuta can’t help the way that makes him feel a little disappointed, after he’d taken such time to get to know you.

is it really that surprising that he knows what you like, isn’t that what you want? you may think you’ve just met but he’s known you for months— albeit from afar, from the rooftop opposite your apartment that stares perfectly into your window while you change and sleep, and from the aisles hes followed you through in the supermarket. he’s memorised your usual grocery list and which side of the bed you prefer to sleep on at this point— like a lovershould.

but he does it because love is silly like that, don’t you feel it too?

it’s a little clumsy, with an unsettling sort of urgency that yuuta’s hand reaches across the table to wordlessly ask for yours as his palm opens up. you’re probably just shy, from what hes seen— you’ve probably never felt pure love quite like his before, hes sure true devotion is so new to you you’re not sure how to act.

your gaze lifts to meet his on the opposite side of the table and he notices the chill that seems to run through you under his gaze, it makes him swallow heavily when his vacant, haunting stare holds yours. why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost? his fingers twitch slightly as they remain empty and he’s glad you don’t pay any attention to the way his other hand is digging painfully into his thigh, won’t you put him out of his misery and take his hand?

another few seconds and he sucks his lower lip between his teeth as he continues to stare at you. until finally, your hand us warm when it finally rests in his from across the table. your touch is a stark opposite to the chill in his own fingertips but he’s sure you can see the way the simple touch makes his ears flush pink. his hand closes over yours and his unsettling, neutral expression melts into something softer, gentler with his next movement as he tilts his head at you to smile.

“um.. do you want to come back to my apartment?” or would you want to stay forever?

three dates in, is when yuuta finally has you.

you’re in front of him as he leans over you to unlock the door to his apartment, deliberately pressing his chest against your back as the lock clicks but he takes the opportunity and close proximity to reward himself with a deep inhale. you smell sweet, something citrine and silky that makes him want to wrap himself in you, in your scent.. in your skin.

it feels like it draws him in, but before yuuta can lean in a little closer, just enough to press his lips against the pulse point in your neck to suck, to mark and bite— the door to his apartment opens and you can’t seem to get in fast enough as you take your first few steps.

his apartment isn’t anything special, if anything it’s a little empty— it would barely looked lived in if it wasn’t for his spare pair of shoes by the door and the katana by his bed. he opted to leave it behind for your date, he was still more than capable of protecting you without it if need be.

but the silence feels uneasy as yuuta watches you eye-up his belongings, he was sure he put everything incriminating away— his little notes about your schedule, the folded up receipts that you’d dropped by accident or the pretty little pictures he’d taken of you, albeit the paper is a little sticky and ruined now. he doesn’t need them anymore though, he has you now.

“sorry, it’s not much hah..” the chuckle he lets out is a little awkward, followed by a loud swallow as his eyes cut through your back but you just.. stand there. but still, he can’t stay away so he approaches you with caution, you’re in his domain now afterall. under his roof, in his heart, why wouldn’t he reach out to touch you when he’s so close? why else would you come to his apartment unless you wanted that.

“it’s very you, i think. kinda how i expected it to look.” the sound of your voice is a low hum but it still makes yuuta’s heart squeeze, it’s funny how much he feels like he missed it— it’d only been a few seconds but he doesn’t think he can live without that sound anymore as it draws him closer, “it’s cute, y’know?”

“really?” your back is still to him but he’s able to get close enough to press his chest against it as his arms wrap around your waist. you’re closer now than you’ve everbeen,

he wishes he could chain you here, right by his side so you never had to leave again.

“mhm.” you smile and yuuta finds himself flushing again as he curls over you slightly, just enough for him to meet your gaze from over your shoulder before you pull him away from him entirely. he feels the brush of cold air from the space your body left as he twitches.

“yuuta?” you ask again, although the sound of his name is different now as he watches you spin on your heels to look at him.

“how did you know my order.. at the cafe i mean.” you’re looking at him so intently it’s making him nervous, you’re nervous he realises. you clasp your hands behind your back as you lean forward and yuuta wonders how long you’ve been thinking this question over in your mind.

did he slip up? did he really ruin his own perfect facade by being too perfect for you. his chest feels a little tighter now and he’s sure the expression on his face isn’t as sweet as he needs it to be, his lower lip is between his teeth and he’s pretty sure if he bites down a little more it’ll draw blood. he needs to think—

“you sent me a picture once,” he smiles gently, kindly as his eyes soften and his voice is such a shy lull as he answers you. he notices the way your shoulders seem to relax and he scratches at the back of his neck before he continues, “at lunch with maki.”

“i just thought it sounded similar to what you had that day, that’s all.” it’s not completely a lie, he did see you taking photos of your food the few times you’ve been to that cafe. but he never got them, he wonders who you sent them too.. there wouldn’t be someone else, right? you wouldn’t do that to him and his heart.

“sorry, is that weird?” yuuta feels hot under your stare but you must feel cold under his, there’s goosebumps along your skin and he finds it a little unnerving the way you draw back as he takes a step forward. maybe you’re just relieved.. is it because you love him that you asked? maybe you wanted his real answer.

“no, no! i must’ve forgot, it’s sweet you remembered.” you think he’s sweet, he smiles at that before he’s taking another careful step towards you and you let him this time. it’s like a relief when his hands are back on you, in their rightful place as he pulls you into him and he keeps you there— underneath his gaze as your face tilts to meet his.

“you’re really pretty.” yuuta whispers softly as he noses against your cheek, letting his cool fingertips tease along the hem of your shirt as they brush along your overheating skin. you shudder, pressing yourself into him and he doesn’t think you’re going to ask anymore questions when you bat your lashes up at him.

“can.. can i touch you?” the question is a drowsy murmur, smeared against the corner of your lips and you choose to answer it wordlessly as you turn to meet him, twisting into a kiss that’s deeper than the ones you’ve shared prior.

he’d kissed you before, but it was more like innocent pecks or kisses along your cheeks, he didn’t want to scare you off— to give you too much of him too soon, he had to make you fall for him first.. to want him. to love him.

but this one is different as yuuta’s nails dig into the bare skin of your waist, it’s sloppier than you’d expect from him as he nips on your lower lip— making you gasp as his tongue tentatively presses its way between them. your lashes kiss against the apples of your cheeks as your eyes close and he picks up on the way your breathing changes when his palm rests against your cheek to hold you there.

you must’ve been waiting for this aslong as he has been, it’s obvious with the way you’re pushing into him. have you been thinking about it as much as he has? he’s dreamed of the moment he’d finally have you here, pressed against him, your mouth on his as you feed into his hunger and he knows for sure now. he won’t ever be able to leave you alone.

“yuuta~” you murmur, delicate and pretty beneath the chill of yuuta’s fingertips and it makes his palms feel clammy against your skin as he moves you, pressing you back through the halls of his apartment until your back is against his bedroom door. he can barely reach for the handle, he’s too busy brushing his hands over your body now— swiping and smearing his spit messily against your lips until he’s breathless, buzzing beneath his skin before it’s you that reaches back to open it wilfully, eagerly.

“s-sorry,” he feels bad for keeping you waiting but now he’s addicted as he feels you grin against his lips, locking the apology with another sinful swipe of your tongue that has him swaying before you’re pulling away. he’s flushed to his chest, panting— but his grip on your body is still tight when you push him back until he rests on the mattress, starry-eyed and kiss drunk as you follow to climb on top.

“why’re you looking at me like that?” you ask playfully as you pull off your shirt and yuuta knows he’s staring, all adoring despite the way his gaze has always been somewhat empty, dark and void of emotion, but there’s always a dull glow when he looks at you. it’s what lovedoes to a person afterall.

“because.. you’re really pretty.” his words have a trembling undercurrent to them as he exhales, reaching up to cup his cool fingertips around the back of your neck before he’s pulling you back in to kiss him again. his next murmur is barely audible, pressed between your tongue and lips, “i.. i can’t believe you’re finally mine.”

he’s not sure if you hear him, but he feels your movements slow— even if only for a second; like you’re thinking something over in your head, like you’re considering pulling away. but he won’t let you, he cant, not now that he’s finally had a taste— you wouldn’t want to leave him so empty after all this. after you made him fall for you.

but if he makes you uncomfortable, you don’t say anything else as he breathes into you— stripping you both of your layers until you’re just in your underwear and yuuta can’t bare to keep his eyes closed when you’re soul is laid bare infront of him like this.

“would you.. um, want to sit?” he asks but it’s spoken more like an insistent plea as his hips twitch into yours, the heat of your pussy so close to him making him feel so mindless beneath you. “please.”

the question urges you to pull away to sit upright on his lap despite the way yuuta finds himself chasing your mouth, blinking up at you through his lidded gaze as you bite cutely on your lower lip. it’s plump from his teeth and kisses, he already wants it back.

“i mean.. what if i’m heavy?” you say softly, uncertainty in the question but he answers almost too quickly as his hand grabs at your own, his brows furrowing slightly while he looks up at you.

“i don’t care. i want you to, i’ve thought about it a lot.” he’s talking too much, he should stop. but yuuta needs you there, he’s thought about suffocating between your thighs, between your folds so much his chest feels tight at the thought. wont you do this one thing for him after everything he’s done for you? you owe him after how much he’s loved you.

“really? you’ve thought about me. aren’t you lewd?” your reply is playful, perfectly so as your lips smile softly and he wants nothing more than to kiss the expression off of you. even if only to keep it for himself, he doesn’t want anyone else to see you like this ever again. he considers killing anyone who already has.

“heh—uh, i think about you alot. i just..” the pinpricks of arousal under yuuta’s skin are cracking away at his perfect little facade he’s created for you. but you’re urging him to keep going as your thighs squeeze around his waist from above,

“hm?”

“i wish.. i had all of you. the thought of you with someone else it… makes me,” he lets himself exhale as he looks up at you, something twisted swimming in his gaze that makes you look at him so softly. he hopes you can see the way that makes him feel, the thought of what’s his with somebody else, how cruel it would be on his heart— your smile falters, only slightly but he lets his hand trail down his face.

yuuta expects you to climb off of him, but instead— he feels your fingers push back the dark bangs that fall over his gaze, mused from your hands and the comforter beneath him. it’s such a soft little touch that feels so full of love it makes his heart squeeze.

“lie down, yuuta.” you exhale in reverence and he does so easily when you press your palm into his chest, urging him down as you slide your way up his body. his eyes are on your thighs and his hands follow quickly after as your knees press into the mattress beside his cheeks— kneeling above him as he pants at the puffy, damp press of your pussy in your panties.

he feels too hot for his skin but yuuta’s fingers are still cold when he hooks them beneath the flimsy fabric to pull it to the side— finally allowing him the first real look at your pussy that isn’t through a pane of glass as his cock throbs in his boxers. his fingers return to their place on your skin before he squeezes, urging you down to finally straddle his cheeks as he breathes across your glistening folds.

he starts off tentatively as he parts your folds with his tongue, suckling softly on your clit as he slurps and swallows at whatever you give him. you rock into his mouth with so much want it makes his fingers squeeze, but his eyes are still on you as you ride his mouth, humping into every flick of his tongue as he rolls it along the sensitive petals of your cunt.

“more, yuu~ please,” yuuta knows you’re holding back, thighs trembling as you try not to put too much of your weight on him but your plea makes the last string of his sanity snap before he’s releasing the limit on his strength to pull you completely into him.

you’re scared he can barely breathe but he’s holding you so tight you can barely move, this was what he wanted— what he’s been fantasising about. he wants to breathe your pussy for the rest of his life as he buries himself into you, whimpering as he explores the plains of your intimate skin with his tongue and mouth.

yuuta’s lips close around your clit once more before he nips playfully at the bud, pulling a sound out of you that’s so saccharine sweet that he swears he almost cums in his pants as he stares up at you. your lips are parted, nibbles perked up on your pretty tits as you roll the nub between your fingers and he swears he feels lightheaded at how perfect you look. all his.

“it tastes so good,” you hear him groan from his place below you and you look down to meet his gaze, his face between your thighs as you grind yourself down on his tongue, hips twisting into his mouth as he takes a ragged exhale against your pussy. his cheeks and the lower half of his face are slick with your juices as they drip down onto the sheets below him, his fingers flexing into your flesh every time your thighs tighten around his head.

“i-is it all for me?” you hear yuuta mumble under his breath before he buries himself back into you, the low, desperate tone of his voice sending vibrations straight to your clit as your hips twitch from the sudden jolt of pleasure. your fingers fall into his hair to pull just as he presses his tongue against the twitching entrance to your walls, the warmth eagerly luring him inside as your hole clenches around the muscle. “please, only me, okay?”

it feels so good you don’t even care what he’s mumbling against you because every word is like honey along your nerves, making you twitch and bounce your clit into his eager mouth as he devours you entirely. you’re just nodding, murmuring out his name but you’re feeding into his sick little fantasy like you wouldn’t believe.

“nobody else.” yuuta’s greedy, carnivorous, like he’d eat through to your heart if you’d let him. then you’d trulybelong to him, be with him forever.

“mhm, it feels so good, don’t stop—fuck.” oh he doesn’t think he’ll ever be able to, you feel so much better than he could’ve ever imagined when he pulls away momentarily to slide his slender fingers between your folds, spreading you so lewdly before he’s diving back in.

yuuta’s slurping and smacking at your essence as he drinks in the very taste of you that has his cock twitching between his thighs, beads of precum gathering at the tip while he pays no mind to it—only focused on the feeling of you creaming on his tongue. it may be your first time together but you’d never believe it with how well he’s working your body, like he’s studied you— memorised every sweet sound he’s heard you pull from yourself as you flicked your pretty little clit every night. he hopes you were thinking about him.

“so soft,” he feels lightheaded at the arousal pooling in his stomach, at the need as his cock aches for any sort of friction, but he’s just so lost in you instead. “and warm,” he wraps his lips around your clit before sucking it into his mouth, allowing his tongue to roll the sensitive bud so he can feel you jerk in his hold, his large palms rocking you against his mouth as he groans against you once more.

“use me—k-keep going, please.” yuuta almost growls, his words breathless and needy and you feel the coil in your stomach tighten when you look behind you to watch his own hips twitch at the idea of you cumming on his face, paired with the pressure of you grinding down on tongue.

he can tell you’re close by the pace your hips have taken up, twitching and stuttering into his movements as your slick increases in volume, smearing along his cheeks and making such a lewd mess beneath you. his lungs quake with his next inhale, he can’t get enough breath in with how deep he’s pressed into you but he doesn’t care— he’d die for your orgasm, for your pleasure, for your love.

yuuta’s movements are almost desperate and your skin feels on fire when the pleasure races through you. you hear his own quiet moans against your cunt, almost lost between smacks and suckling noises and your thighs tremble either side of him as your hips stutter. “fuck—yuu!” you babble, your clit knocking against his nose with every buck of your hips as you drag yourself along his mouth, every desperate grind of your cunt squelching loudly as he goes between pressing his tongue into your hole and tracing messy circles around your clit.

“give me all of you.” another twisted little plea buried into your folds but the way his lidded gaze cuts up into you makes you shudder in the best way, “everything,”

and so you jolt when you feel yuuta suck your clit between his teeth once more, nibbling on the sensitive bud before your orgasm finally washes over you, causing your thighs to tighten around him in response.

but instead of pulling away he only wraps his arms around your hips, pulling you even closer until you’re pretty sure he can’t breathe at all—lapping as you cream into his mouth, tongue dipping into feel your walls squeezing down around him as he slurps and drinks everything you have to offer him.

you feel your body slacken as you ride out your orgasm, your fingers in yuuta’s hair tightening painfully despite the way it only makes him hotter as it sears through his skin. he continues to bathe your clit in kitten licks, shooting tiny aftershocks through your body—his face sticky with your essence when you finally decide to inch yourself off of him to catch your breath.

“it’s been a while since i’ve came that hard, jeez.” your laugh seems to pull him into you despite the way he’s breathing deep, he still moves with such an ease that is almost inhumane as he reaches out to swipe his thumb against your cheek affectionately.

“you looked beautiful.” yuuta replies, so neutral and honest that it makes you feel shy suddenly, like you didn’t just cream all over his face. you think you’d hide yourself in your palms if he wasn’t tilting you up to meet him, to let him kiss you once more as he sucks languidly on your tongue.

it’s messy, filthy the way he eagerly lets you taste yourself— moaning at the way the mix of spit and cream makes you melt into him before he’s easing himself between your thighs to press you into the mattress with each kiss.

“can i have you now?” he’s been ever so patient but he doesn’t think he can hold back any longer. yuuta’s need for you hurts, like an ache in his chest— he needs to have you so he knows you’re real as he eagerly pushes down the constraining fabric of his boxers, sighing with the first sting of sexual freedom as you spread your legs for him so eagerly. “i want to hurry and feel that you’re really mine, please.”

his lips smear along your cheeks as he pulls away, panting like he’s a dog in heat when you reach between your sweat slick bodies to wrap your fingers around the shaft of his cock. the press of your palm makes him shudder, drooling along the dip of your shoulder and he feels like he can’t get close enough to you as you let the blunt head roll through your sensitive folds.

“you can have me, i need you, yuu.. please.” you’re still so wet, needy despite the orgasm yuuta’s already taken for you and he knows it’s love with the way you’re grabbing at him— scratching at his shoulders just as his cock finally presses into the tight ring of your walls before he sinks into you.

the first squeeze of you around him is warm, so tight it feels like he can barely move as he sinks his teeth into the exposed skin of your shoulder until he draws blood. you shriek but he can feel the way the pain makes your pussy tremble around him, greedily luring more of him in as he pushes past the sweet spots that make your thighs twitch— beg for him. he knew you were perfect, your body feels moulded to his shape.

your back arches, urging your chest to press snug and tight against yuuta’s and he only pulls you closer— lapping at the teeth marks on your skin as he soothes the wound, hoping it leaves a mark so that your body will remember him. remember who it belongs to now.

“i waited for you..” the way he sinks into you is slow, agonisingly so but the sounds he’s pulling from you light a fuse that fizzles into something that feels even better as it bursts along his skin. it makes his toes and fingers curl when he feels your pussy squeeze down on him eagerly, rewarding the stretch of his cock the deeper he goes.

there’s still a chill to yuuta’s slender hands despite the way he’s sweating, groping just a little too hard into your waist, making him stutter out a low whimper as he drags you along his cock. he’s forcing your walls to spread open for him as he feels something ache deep in his stomach, desire heavy in each laboured breath as he takes everything you’ll give him, everything he can get.

he breathes, low and ragged, and you can only find it in yourself to reply with a sound that’s high pitched and needy when you finally feel the weight of his hips press tight against yours as he bottoms out.

“and it’s.. all mine now.” yuuta’s voice sounds needier than he expects and his eyes flutter closed when he finally pulls his hips back after a few moments, drawing his cock out of you as he feels the way your pussy squeezes down around him tight in response.

it’s like you’re trying to lure back in every inch you lose — begging him to stay and to never leave you, to press deeper into you before his fingers dig bruises into your hips and he’s doing just that, beginning a steady pace with another slow withdrawal and a staggered breath.

the first real, deep kiss of yuuta’s cock has your toes curling as he hugs you closer — his face rests just over the crook of your neck so you can hear the way he pants and growls softly between your moans, smearing kisses against your cheek everytime he turns to take in the sight of you beneath him.

you’re so pretty, too pretty that he can barely contain his thoughts— his love when your head turns to meet his gaze and it makes his pace stutter before he can even find his rhythm.“i.. i love you.” the confession slips, it’s hushed but it’s heavy, pressing you into the mattress as your eyes suddenly widen and you stiffen despite the way he remains lost in you with his next thrust, “it’s so good.”

“huh? uh..” your lips part to stop him but it breaks into a whine as the blunt head of his cock presses against the spots inside of you, making you twitch before you’re pushing into his chest to give him a confused look.

thankfully, yuuta picks up on the way your legs aren’t squeezing around him anymore— missing the red marks your nails were trailing against his skin in a way that makes him pull back, maybe slightly panic at the expression he’s met with that isn’t the pure adoration he expects. “are you okay? did i hurt you?” his hands are trying so hard to soothe you as they trail down your skin, but you’re not melting into him like you should. did he do something wrong?

“no it’s just..” you begin, albeit a little awkwardly considering the dude you’ve been on three dates with just told you he loves you while he was balls deep for the firsttime might you add. “um, isn’t it a bit soon for that?”

but still, because you like him— you suffer through the confrontation as you bite on your lower lip. “i’m not even your girlfriend yet.”

yuuta’s never thought about it like that. he never realised that you guys weren’t as serious as you must’ve wanted, all of this time he’d assumed you were his girlfriend but you must’ve wanted him to ask. that’s why you were so reluctant to accept his love, because you were scared it wasn’t there to begin with. but because he really does love you, he’s always going to be there to reassure you.

“i don’t think it’s too soon.. it’s how i feel.” his eyes are on you as he reaches forward, his fingers curling around yours before he pulls your hand to rest on his chest— so you can feel the way his heart is beating at his ribs, like it’s begging you to reach in and pull it out. “can you feel it. it’s my love.”

yuuta’s stare is searing as it burns through you and it makes your fingers curl against his chest slightly, like you’re ready to pull away but he’s strong— he keeps you there despite the way he feels you tense.

“yuuta..” you press your free hand between your brows, still a little confused— maybe a little aroused at what’s happening but you’d rather not sort through those feelings just yet, so you continue. “we’ve been on three dates.”

yuuta feels like he’s being scolded, was it really so bad for him to love you? why aren’t you so eager to accept him when he knows you feel it too, the way you look at him is with love, he knows you’re lying to him. “but.. but you said i could have all of you.” he tries to hush the hiss to his voice but his gaze on you doesn’t falter despite the way you wish you could look away, he holds you there.

“i’m sorry, are you going to leave?” he asks the question like you’ve got the choice but the grip on your fingers tightens like he wouldn’t let you go regardless.

“no, just.. i like you but maybe just slow down a little, okay?” it was an olive branch, a proposal that you feel like would work best for both of you. you watch the way he softens at that, like you’re watching a wild animal accept it’s first pet from a human hand.

“okay,” yuuta’s acceptance is a quiet lull but any disappointment he had is pushed back by his own desire when you lead him back between your legs. your mouth is saying one thing but your heart is calling for him, pussy luring him back in like it’ll die without him and he wonders if maybe you’re just protecting your heart. he wants to tell you there’s no need, he’ll never hurt you.. aslong as you love him that is.

but anything he wants to say is quickly overcome by the twist in his gut when he’s back in your walls, feeling them squeeze and tremble around him like it’s a skin to skin confession on its own.

another clap of yuuta’s hips with yours and your head tilts up to meet him for a kiss as your lips curl around his, tongue tracing the length of his own until you’re whining. if you didn’t love him, why is your hand so accepting to intertwine with his own, why does it feel like you’re making love rather than just fucking. your mouth slots against his perfectly and your pussy begs for every inch it loses. so why won’t you admit it’s love.

“i.. i just get scared i’ll lose you forever if i let you go.” he feels mindless when your hips grind up to meet every thrust, the pace hes set isn’t fast but it’s enough to have you both whining against each others lips as he drives into you. he’s spurred on by the sweet sounds that break from your throat, your voice taking a dreamier lull than hes used to — it’s more needy, more intoxicating. it makes his words even more true as he feels the jealousy simmer along his skin.

“if someone took you from me, i’d kill them.” yuuta doesn’t know if he’s dreaming but he swears he feels your walls squeeze around him at that, your lips breaking away from his to gasp and he still doesn’t know why you won’t accept his love when you’re accepting of this. he’ll kill everyone who’s ever touched you if it’ll prove his heart is true.

you look at him, and he thinks it’s unfair they way you gaze at him so tenderly, it’s so cruel when you won’t just tell him the truth. “you won’t lose me. i’m here.” your words make his hand squeeze around yours as your body claps against his and he kisses over your skin, lips gliding along your heightened nerves so softly it has you twitching. you’re squeezing down around him until his breathing hitches and it’s almost like he feels the tight hug of your cunt in his fucking lungs.

“then stay forever.” yuuta’s words are emphasised by a particularly slow grind, grazing his pelvis against your swollen clit until you’re jolting at the small aftershock that races through you — still sensitive from your orgasm as his cock digs out the next.

he feels your nails grab at his shoulders, no doubt leaving more pretty crimson marks along the muscle there before his pace inevitably speeds up. you’re marking him as yours so eagerly, he can already imagine how pretty they look from behind.

but yuuta’s gripping so tight into your hips he’ll surely leave bruises of his own as you bask in the pleasure only he brings you. you give up all that you can as your hormone-hazed mind has you breathing out a regrettable “okay, forever.”

he buries himself back into the crook of your neck with the next sinful squeeze of your walls around him, dizzy from your words in a way that makes his hips stutter as he buries another ragged whimper into your skin. he repositions his knees to begin a pace that’s a little faster, needier until each smack of his hips is loud and clapping and every quick thrust leaves you breathless, beginning to lose his pace as he presses deep into your body.

“c-can you give him this part of you first? i need to feel it.” your orgasm he means as he gulps, words like his own plea as he lets his fingers on your hips trace between your bodies to roll your puffy clit in sticky circles. yuuta’s pairing it with the back and forth stutter of his hips as he digs your orgasm out of you — breathing hard when he feels your pussy throb around him.

“yes! can give you it, fuck! gonna cum again, yuu..” you cry for him and he fucking moans as his hips press snug and tight against yours with the first milking compression of your walls around his cock. he’s panting against your neck, biting and suckling hungrily at the skin as he coaxes and eases you through another mind-numbing orgasm, the pleasure hitting you so hard and good it almost hurts as you cream around him.

“b-baby, please. can i cum?” wont you let him give you his pleasure and his heart, yuuta asks so needily but he doesn’t stop even when you’re panting and gasping out yesyesyes with each shockwave of bliss he fucks through you. his cock finally throbs inside of your soaked pussy as he gives into the needy coax of your body — rewarding you with the orgasm you’ve earned from him, the one you ownas he presses his load into you, burying it into you like he’s staking a claim.

he pulls away to kiss you as he does, whining long and low against the soft press of your lips as he cums thick and heavy inside of you, shuddering when he feels your tongue push against his and he almost pins you completely underneath him as he continues to fuck into your sensitive pussy.

yuuta offers you a few more shallow thrusts before he falls onto you, rolling into his side despite the way he keeps his hand intertwined with your own as he catches his breath. his gaze is still soft when he pulls away to meet your own drowsy one, squeezing affectionately at your skin when he watches the way your thighs tremble as his softening cock pulls out of you.

“are you okay?” he asks and the soft pull of his voice feels like honey when you’re in your post-orgasm state, letting him trail and massage his fingers down the length of your spine as he gazes over you affectionately. you nod softly, and he leans in to rest his lips against your forehead as your eyes flutter closed.

“do you want to stay here? i have clothes you can wear.” yuuta gives you a few seconds to respond, to think over the question and he’s pretty sure this isn’t what taking it slow meant. but you’re also his girlfriend now, right? that’s what you meant when you said that.

your relaxed expression is something soft as he looks over you, but the sudden furrow of your brows makes his soft smile falter when you open up your eyes again to send him a glare.

“no thanks, i’d rather not wear some random girls panties.” yuuta’s a little taken off guard by your response but you’re pouting; are you jealous? assuming that the clothes he’s talking about must belong to somebody else, maybe a woman before you? he can’t deny the way the thought makes something in his heart bloom, what’s jealousy if not love?

“no. you’re the only one i’ve ever had here.” he tries not to let the giddiness sound in his voice so he keeps his response neutral but honest, earning himself a look that urges him to continue.. to put you at ease as your new boyfriend.

“i bought them.. for you.” that’s half true. yuuta did leave his apartment to go get them but actually, he took them. from your apartment. he was thinking about your comfort afterall, he even picked up a few of your shirts for when you stay over, he’s sure you’ll be thanking him when you find out. although he’d much prefer you in his, that way people will know.

“oh.. you knew i was coming over?” was a question that he hadn’t exactly prepared for though as you tilt your head at him. he doesn’t want you to think he planned this. no, he only longed for it, but that doesn’t mean he had alterier motives.. he’d love you even if you hadn’t came back to his apartment today. but you would have been brought here eventually.

“it.. was maki’s idea. i think she meant it as a joke, hah— maybe i took it too seriously. sorry.” yuuta will need to make sure that alibi isn’t confirmed by you though. although he’s thankful that he’s always been able to rely on maki as a friend, maybe he should thank her for that later on.

“ofcourse it was, just wait until i get a hold of her.” it’s maybe a little too quickly, the way yuuta pulls away from you as you go off in your tangent about your friend. he’s sure if you’re phone wasn’t lying somewhere discarded amongst the clothes on the floor you’d be texting her right now.

it hurts to leave your warmth but he’s eager now, to see the pretty expression on your face when he hands over the panties he’s sure you’ve been missing. maybe you’ll finally admit your feelings for him after this. he gives you a reassuring, soft smile as he crosses his room, reaching into the drawers in the corner before he’s returning to hand you the panties as he rests them in your palm.

“oh! i have these ones already actually.” yuuta thinks it’s adorable the way you take them from him, fingers lingering on his a little longer before you’re fiddling curiously with the lace. but he doesn’t like the look that seems to cross your features a few moments later, albeit quickly before it’s gone again. “i’ve.. not been able to find them.. for a while though.”

he always thought you looked good in those ones, they’d caught his eyes on the nights you opted for only them and a shirt as your pyjamas. he thought you’d be happy to see them again, but you’re not meeting his gaze now and he doesn’t like that.

“really? do you want to try them on.. for me?” yuuta tries, attempts to lure you back to him as his arm outstretches, fingertips softly smoothing along your cheek and he hatesthe way you shiver ever so slightly at the touch this time. don’t you love him? why are you acting this way? like you’re going to leave him. you have the same expression on your face as you did back at the cafe.

do you really believe he’s going to let you out of his sight now that he finally has you?

“maybe.. after i shower.”

#cw yandere #jjk x you #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader #okkotsu yuuta x you #okkotsu yuta smut #yuuta x you #okkotsu yuuta smut #okkotsu yuta x you #okkotsu yuuta x reader #yuuta smut #yuuta x reader

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brothermoth · 2 months

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Y'all I think Micah is into Dutch but in like...a Freud way. In a "wow you remind me of my dad whose praise is my lifeblood I love when authoritative older men praise me I don't get hard from it I swear I swear" way.

Yes he's manipulative but I also think Micah is, at his core, a follower. He likes being second in command, likes having someone to suck up to. It's definitely a lifelong thing considering the way he talks about his father, and probably went from a coping mechanism (fawning) to something more substantial. I love studying this man like a bug because he is NOT a flat character. A lot of his behavior is clearly an act, but there's snippets of genuine actions. He was upset when Mary Beth made fun of him, he's jealous of Lenny and Arthur. He does seem to respect Hosea and seek some approval there. In his attempts to befriend Arthur I think he was reminded very much of his brother. We know he tried to reach out after seemingly years of no contact.

I think deep down Micah is a lonely person who only knows how to lash out at others. Nothing he does feels genuine because he doesn't know how to be. At some point he was a child wanting his father's affection. He has that YouTuber "any attention is good attention" mentality. He's fucked in the head and it's great for me to analyze.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #micah bell

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haru-natsuka · 3 months

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The Unending Daze Part 1 (Malleus Draconia x Wife Reader x Ace Trappola)

*Chapter start from below trailer*

>> Trailer <<

"My darling wife, the joy you have brought me throughout the years is without compare. Our children are fortunate to have been gifted with such a loving and caring mother as you,"

Malleus spoke with affection, his voice like honeyed words that melted the hearts of everyone that heard it. He leaned down to kiss your forehead, his warm breath brushing against your skin.

But just as you were getting used to this blissful scene, your old friend, Ace arrived in an unexpected turn of events. He claimed that he was your husband, which left you perplexed and bewildered.

"Wait a minute, that's not right! I'm your real husband! He's just trying to manipulate you with a dream. Wake up, now! Our children need you! I need you, Y/N!"

You were unsure how to proceed, caught in the middle of a confusing situation. In this situation, you feel conflicted and uncertain about whether your old friend or your darling husband had spoken the truth

>> PART 1 <<

"Malleus dear, this is cheating"

"My wife, this is not cheating," Malleus's soft and gentle voice responded softly, his eyes looking in confusion at your declaration. He spoke with composure and maturity, displaying a gentle side of himself, his expression and tone showing a mixture of empathy and consideration for you. In this instance, Malleus is exhibiting a side of himself that is rarely seen to others, allowing you to see the more caring aspect of his character. He was a grown man who is worthy to be called a father.

"This is simply a fun and harmless game of hide and seek. We are merely adding an extra element of challenge for them to make the game more interesting. It is not forbidden to use magic in hide and seek.You are spoiling them too much, my dear."

His tone has changed, becoming a bit more stern and accusatory, expressing his jealousy and dissatisfaction with your attitude toward the children. He seems to feel that you are prioritizing the children over him, and he does not appreciate your behavior. He did indeed love seeing your lovable and motherly side when you interact with the kids. but he felt that he deserves your attention as well.

"Are you sulking, Malleus?" You expressed sincere concern for Malleus as you gently stroked his cheeks and was met with a hint of surprise from him. You could sense that he was attempting to hide his emotion from your view by maintaining a neutral expression. Malleus's eyes flashed momentarily with jealousy as he looked back at you, unable to resist the urge to return your gaze. You had caught Malleus off guard with your direct gaze, and he was temporarily powerless to avoid showing his emotions.

"I am merely expressing my concern that you seem to be overly focused on the kids, forgetting that I exist too," Malleus answered softly.

"How could I forget about you. I admit that I was rather busy during the days with Levan and Marcellus but still, you have me during the night" As you kiss him gently on his forehead and cheek, Malleus wraps his arms around your waist to support your balance and provide comforting closeness. He presses his face against yours, his arms encircling you, as you stand on your tiptoes to reach his height.

Malleus's breath catches in his throat, his heart beating rapidly in his chest, as he savors the feeling of your tender and reassuring kisses, never wanting this moment to stop. Malleus's lower face shows the happiness emotion in his heart, but his eyes hold the reflection of a darker truth. His eyes gleam with a slight darkness, as he stares at you for a moment with hidden motive. Before you had the chance to catch his subtle gaze, two young boys came into view.

The two young boys exclaimed excitedly, "FOUND MAMA AND PAPA!" They ran over and embraced tightly, signifying the end of the hide-and-seek game.

"Both of you are really good in this game, Levan, Marcellus," Malleus added, praising the boys for their accomplishment. "So good at beating mama and papa."

Levan's response, being the older boy, was a little more direct and expressive. "Because you are so loud that we can hear you," he exclaimed, accusingly and somewhat jokingly. "That's not how the game should be played, papa. Was it your attempt to woo mama again?"

"Huh? Woo? What do you mean? I don't recall hearing such language before. The world does evolve faster, I presume" Malleus formed an amused smile as he replied, somehow surprised at the boy's word choice.

"Papa knows what brother means. Mama, papa is so childish! When I grown up, me and Levan will marry mama and replace papa"

"My precious children, mama only belongs to papa. Mama's brain is filled with me and me alone. I don't know what will happen if someone takes her from me"

Malleus' jealous and possessive intensity has reached a fever pitch, as he expresses his paranoia about someone else taking his wife from him. His voice now has a chilling and ominous edge to it. There was a sudden sound of thunder outside, as Malleus's face twisted into a dark and grimacing expression. A shiver ran down your spine, as the temperature in the room dropped with each passing second, and you know Malleus the one who did it.

"Malleus, you are scaring our boys. Stop joking around" You tried to stop him, but his glare continued to remain fixed on his sons, as his anger and jealousy grew increasingly intense, his loving and gentle facade shattered apart.

"I don't even want to create these children! I only wanna live with you! You keep on leaving me! If only you didn't love him so much. Y/N, you should only let me control the dream, and stay here with me without ever questioning me and without ever waking up. Never betray me and never break my heart. Let me devour your soul"

His regal and dignified emerald attire instantly shifts, changing into a more sinister-looking purple and black dress, with a more intimidating and ominous aura. Malleus cupped both of your cheeks while gazing fiercely straight into your eyes, reciting his unique spell with intense focus and dedication countless times.

"Spinning wheel of fate, keep pulling the thread of disaster. As King of the Abyss, I shall bestow this upon you. Fae of Maleficence."

Your mind begins to become hazy after Malleus finishes his spell. Slowly, you feel your exhaustion and fatigue becoming a burden, as you become increasingly sleepy. Like a heavy blanket, the feeling of sleepiness begins to envelop you, threatening to swallow you whole. You can feel the grip of sleep becoming stronger, and the thought of closing your eyes and surrendering to it becomes too tempting to resist. Your body slowly becomes limp and lifeless, as you begin to sink deeper and deeper into the darkness of unconsciousness.

"Ace..." You whimper out the name at the end for help as you see the image of a man with red hair.

>> PART 2

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blond-jerk-tourney · 3 months

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Blond Jerk Tourney FINALS

Propaganda from submitters Under Cut

Sharpay Evans

Blonde, HSM antagonist but it was never that deep

vote for Sharpay right now she fought sasuke

Nanami Kiryuu

She's the mean girl of the show, and a pretty interesting take on the "bitchy vain school rival of the protagonist" trope. She spends most of her early screentime being a bully and most of her later screentime being both the biggest loser imaginable and deeply sad/troubled (which still does not erase how much of an asshole she can be). She even laughs like your stereotypical mean rich girl. Nanami has so many problems and sucks so so bad. I adore her.

Shes a psychotic bully who seeks to ruin the lives and reputations of any girl who gets more of her brothers attention than she does. Reasons Nanami Kiryuu deserves to win: - she has made many attempts at physical and psychological terrorism against Anthy Himemiya (including a plotted wardrobe malfunction at a crowded social gathering) simply for drawing more of her brother's attention than her - tried to fill Anthy's bedroom with wild animals (a snail, a snake, and a live octopus) to make her out to be a freak only to find that her room was already full of wild animals - she bankrolled an elementary schoolers crush on her to turn him into her personal boyservant - briefly non-personed a member of her bully entourage for sharing an umbrella with her brother - received a luxury cowbell due to a shipping error and smugly wore it to school for weeks flaunting it like high coture - when her bully entourage rebelled against her due to her brothers manipulation she brought them back in line by just straight up beating the shit out of all of them - all in all just a petty, goonish motherfucker (she also does the ohohohohoho anime girl laugh)

she's blond: despite being Japanese her hair is yellow, unlike her brother's. yellow is even her image color. she's a jerk: introduced as a jealous and dishonest scheming bully, she is one of the more outwardly antagonistic characters in a cast where pretty much everyone is a Real Piece Of Work she's the best: the quintessential ohoho-laughing ojou, her fully-realized character arc makes people both laugh and cry even her sidekick is a blond jerk! how many blond jerks have their own blond jerk sidekick?

i don't know what you've heard but she's NOT the kind of girl who lays eggs!

The token mean rich girl of the franchise. Does the classic "ohohoho" laugh. Doesn't like either of our main characters. She never actually seems to get her way, and secretly has a lot of her own problems. also she lays eggs and turns into a cow

Absolutely THE quintessential anime mean girl. I mean literally her laughing is THE meme for the hohohoho anime laugh. Needs attention So Badly and straight up bullies anyone she deems a threat to that (so basically Everyone). I haven’t finished RGU but apparently she duels with the intent to kill and drowned a kitten once because it was taking up too much of her brother’s attention? Also she’s 13 which explains a lot

#blond jerk tournament #tournament polls #polls #character bracket #sharpay evans #high school musical #nanami kiryuu #revolutionary girl utena #rgu

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bolshefem · 1 year

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if you think people are more empathetic to women than men you are straight up fucking delusional. men have proved themself almost INCAPABLE of empathy for women, and this is statistically and empirically supported. they are incapable of understanding that women have an internal life, do not see us as humans with emotions who exist external to them. look at the comments on a post of a man talking about self harm vs a woman. "men's mental health matters too🥺" "I'm proud of you" vs "attention whore" "sideways for attention downwards for results" "ugly bitch trying to get sympathy"

this is what happens for ANYTHING regarding sexual assault, mental health, suffering, trauma.

or an overweight man vs woman "keep your head up king👑" "you got this bro, I believe in you" "these women don't deserve you." (like totally unprompted not discussing relationships) Or often no comments on his weight at all if he's not talking about it. For a woman, no matter WHAT she is posting about "landwhale" "starve yourself" "put down the burger" "kys fat b*tch" and the most vile and insanely cruel comments The amount of threads and forums dedicated to eviscerating degrading and insulting overweight women on places like lolcow and kiwi farms and just social media in general and I genuinely have never seen one for a man. Same thing with things like facial deformities, the comments are unbelievably cruel to these women.

the level of vitriol is not even remotely comparable, and I don't even think it's mostly a double standard. I think they just lack the capacity to feel empathy towards women and perceive them as human and capable of feeling pain. Things are solely perceived in how they relate to them and thought to be performances for men. Women exist to serve them and if they don't give them a boner they don't deserve to be alive. If something, no matter how innocuous, pisses them off in the slightest they don't have a single qualm because they just don't view them as real people and full human beings with internal lives. women having emotions is inherently manipulative, anything they say or do is a performance for men. And like look at things such as the gender credibility gap https://www.tedxmilehigh.com/gender-credibility-gap/ Women are systematically less believed as witnesses in a courtroom, reporters, academic authorities, in claims of sexual assault, discrimination, or harassment.*

Women's reports of pain symptoms are less likely to be believed by doctors, and they are staggering more likely to not receive proper medication, go undiagnosed and untreated. Women are 32% more likely to die post-op if their surgeon is a man. "Womens' pain not taken as seriously as mens' pain. Researchers found that when male and female patients expressed the same amount of pain, observers viewed female patients' pain as less intense "(sciencedaily.com/releases/2021/04/210406164124.htm) "Nearly three-quarters of cases where a disease primarily affects one gender, the so-called “men's diseases” are overfunded, while the “women's diseases” are dramatically underfunded."

https://www.concernusa.org/story/gender-bias-in-healthcare/ https://www.washingtonpost.com/wellness/interactive/2022/women-pain-gender-bias-doctors/ https://www.medicalnewstoday.com/articles/gender-bias-in-medical-diagnosis#how-does-it-affect-diagnosis https://www.health.harvard.edu/blog/women-and-pain-disparities-in-experience-and-treatment-2017100912562 I could literally go on on this topic forever. The gender empathy gap is a form of epistemic violence against women.

* "Suicidal behaviour and self-harm in women can be viewed by family, health professionals and the community as attention-seeking, manipulative and non-serious, which can negatively influence how young women are treated." (Curtis, 2016) *Men with overweight tend to be perceived as wise or experienced, while women's credibility tends to decrease with excess weight... women seem to experience higher levels of weight stigmatization than men, even at lower levels of excess weight (Flint et al., 2016)

*Women are at greater risk for weight/height discrimination than men (Puhl et al, 2008)

*so many papers on this but "Across the board, women are perceived to be less credible than men. Especially women’s testimonies of rape and sexual harassment are widely trivialized and disregarded, even though reports of sexual abuse are not more likely to be false than reports of other crimes" (Schreurs, 2020) more like Mack, 1993

#RAMBLE #this was supposed to be like two paragraphs #sorry for the mess but worth a read

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theerurishipper · 6 months

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Just saw a post that said Adrien is a love bomber... are we really throwing buzzwords around for the sake of salting on Adrien, the abuse victim? Love bombing is an emotional manipulation tactic, and it is usually paired with the cycle of abuse. Adrien is not abusive. He is not emotionally manipulating Marinette. He is showing her affection. I guess we're demonizing showing our loved ones any sort of affection now...

Yeah fr, people will throw around all kinds of words istg. This is the definition of love bombing:

Love bombing is a tactic in which someone “bombs” you with extreme displays of attention and affection with the intent to manipulate you. Although being showered with "love" can seem positive at the beginning of a romantic relationship, love bombing can lead to gaslighting and abuse. Psychologists caution it might be a tactic used by a narcissist or sociopath in an attempt to control you.

Anyways, Adrien doesn't do this. In fact, this is what Gabriel does to Adrien. From this article:

In a relationship with a pathological predator, love bombing is combined with intermittent reinforcement to create a sense of instability and longing in the victim. Intermittent reinforcement (in the context of psychological abuse) is a pattern of cruel, callous treatment mixed in with periodic affection. The abuser hands out rewards such as affection, a compliment, or gifts sporadically and unpredictably throughout the abuse cycle. This causes the victim to perpetually seek their approval while settling for the crumbs of their occasional positive behavior.

This is exactly what Gabriel does. Whenever it seems like Adrien is rebelling against him because he is tired of Gabriel's neglect, Gabriel will offer him a little concession. Adrien is rebelling against him? Fine, let him go to school. In this way, Adrien doesn't rebel against his father anymore, and Gabriel can keep him under his control, because now Adrien will continue to believe the best of his father and will continue to try and earn his love. Another example is in Gorizilla. Adrien gets tired of Gabriel stopping him from seeing his mother's movie, and sneaks out. Later, Gabriel allows him to watch the movie, and throws in a little bit of gaslighting in there, essentially blaming Adrien for not being open with him and making him feel guilty, when it's his own fault his son didn't open up to him, which is because he's a neglectful asshat.

This is Gabriel and Adrien's relationship. Adrien stays with his father and tries so hard to please him, because Gabriel has instilled in him that love is something conditional that is to be earned. And whenever it seems like Adrien is breaking away from this mentality, Gabriel will do something "nice" for him, which will bring Adrien right back, because he's an abused child who wants to believe the best of his father and wants his love and affection.

Again, to quote the article:

As author Adylen Birch writes, “Creating fear of losing the relationship and then relieving it periodically with episodes of love and attention is the perfect manipulation.” Much like the way a gambler at a slot machine becomes addicted to playing the game for a potential win despite the risk of major loss, a victim in the abuse cycle can become attached to the idea of getting a return on their investment in the relationship despite the toll it takes on their well-being.

There's actually an example of this in the show. From Illusion:

Adrien: Speaking of which, Dad, I'm not really comfortable with having my face on all these rings. That's actually why I didn't want to be a model anymore, to avoid that. Do you understand? Gabriel: Of course, I understand, my son. But that's the point; it's just an image, it's not you! And since this image frees you from your obligations, we, the Agrestes, are able to spend more time together. But if you'd rather everything went back to the way it was before, just say the word. Adrien: (wears the Alliance ring on his index finger) You're probably right.

Gabriel even explicitly says what he's doing, which is holding the threat of going back to their previous relationship over his son's head to emotionally manipulate him. To refer back to the article, he creates the fear of losing the relationship in Adrien, and then makes a big deal of showing that he cares so much about Adrien and his future, and he makes him breakfast. This is love-bombing. And so, Adrien goes along with whatever Gabriel wants as long as he doesn't lose it. And so, he continues to do what Gabriel wants, which is to accept the Alliance rings and his image being used in ways he doesn't want. And true enough, Adrien goes back to defending his father after he finally worked up the courage to confront him for his shit in the beginning.

Adrien: My father? But Nino, he's changed, he's making an effort, and it's the first time he's coming to school!

I could go on, and there are several examples of this in the show, but then we'd be here forever. But I highly recommend that article. I just read it, and it is literally Gabriel and Adrien, oh my god. It's very informative and I think we should all be aware of this.

But anyways, back to your question anon (sorry for the tangent). Adrien doesn't love bomb. Adrien is just very affectionate. He doesn't withdraw affection from anyone, he doesn't make them settle for scraps. He doesn't try to manipulate anyone, he doesn't gaslight anyone, he doesn't try to make them seek his approval. Adrien is always kind and loving towards everybody he cares for.

In fact, Adrien does the exact opposite. He fawns over others, and he tries to earn their love and approval. This is because of Gabriel's abuse. And to accuse him of love bombing is so disgusting. Honestly, people just throw those words around like candy. But then again, I've seen what the side of the fandom that might have said this usually says, and it's usually the same victim-blamey abuse apologist rhetoric, so I'm not even surprised.

Thank you for your ask!

#MLB #Miraculous Ladybug #Adrien Agreste #Chat Noir #Gabriel Agreste #Meta #My meta #Asks #ML Fandom Salt #Abuse tw #Abuse cw

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middlenamesage · 11 days

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My least favorite or least understood stereotype about each zodiac sign

Disclaimer: Just my thoughts and observations! 🌻

Aries ♈️

They’re angry

Yeah Aries is ruled by Mars, and Mars helps us feel the anger that allows us to establish our boundaries. So not gonna say there’s nothing to this one. But to me, Aries are passionate in most of my experiences with them. People who are fake might piss them off, but otherwise the energy can actually be really chill a lot of the time when it’s healthy, because it’s authentic. Particularly angry Aries probably feel very conflicted in themselves.

Taurus ♉️

They’re boring

I guess if your idea of boring is someone that tends to wanna be physically more stationary, then yes this can hold true for someone really feeling their Taurus placements. But to me, I have never met a person with prominent Taurus influence that is boring. They notice so much about their physical surroundings and tend to have lots of weird little quirks developed in the name of protecting their resources, providing for themselves, or beauty. Very interesting people to my Scorpio Moon and Pluto. 🧐

Gemini ♊️

They’re two-faced

I think in a lot of cases where Gemini might appear to be giving conflicting information to different people or saying different things at one time vs another, it’s not an intentional effort to manipulate or be someone they’re not. They just process so much information and mentally they move so rapidly from one area of focus to another, that they might not even be giving themselves the proper time and in depth exploration to truly understand how they view something. Machiavellian Geminis do exist, but it’s more common that if Gemini seems to be showing different sides, that the duality is just how they authentically process life within.

Cancer ♋️

They’re sweet! (I think this warrants an ! because I have special insider status 🌞)

The Moon ruled crabs are protective 🦀 I know it’s not just me. You’d think this would be one of the first things discussed with Cancer, due to the images of a crab with its shell, plus the way the Moon rules over the night when it feels less safe out. Often times Cancer energy does not read as very inviting to just anyone! If the energy is unhealthy it can even be one of the most toxic in the bunch from how I see it. But don’t generally expect it either way to just be really warm and sweet to anyone. They show their nurturing side to their close kin.

Leo ♌️

They’re attention seekers

This one comes from a pretty personal place with me too, as Leo Venus and Mars. Soo many stereotypes especially about Leo Venus being an attention seeker in love. But my Leo Venus journey has actually looked way more like focusing on learning how to find self love and the ability to validate myself. Leo is a fire 🔥 sign and the objective for fire is exercising independent individuality. Yes, sometimes Leo energy is what you would clearly call the notion of true attention seeking (where it’s specifically the reactions of others that they crave). Sometimes they’re just boldly exercising their self expression though.

Virgo ♍️

They’re super organized

Some are, in ways that can be observed in their physical environments. But if you’ve ever wondered why some actually seem the exact opposite of organized in their physical environments, I believe it’s because Virgo, ruled by Mercury, is a very mental energy. They’re up in their heads trying to find order so much that it may never translate to their physical surroundings, as they may be depleting their own energy and will to act with their inner critic. Not to mention Virgo is a mutable sign, and some form of chaos tends to exist with all of them. 😆 I think my 6th house gives me some understanding of Virgos I wouldn’t have otherwise, and I feel what a mental experience it can be!

Libra ♎️

They’re balanced/fair

Lol I’m sorry I’m nitpicking something positive with this one, I’ll blame it on the South Node in Libra as this current transit has people needing to give consideration to the less evolved sides of Libra! Yes, healthy Libra energy tries to be as balanced and reciprocal as possible. That is the objective of Libra. But when at any point Libra energy is unhealthy, its keen sense of the scales can be used to intentionally tip things in their favor. Another unhealthy expression of Libra energy that we hear more is giving too much to others, but I want to bring attention to a less talked about unhealthy expression of using charm to gain more from someone than they are willing to give back to that person. Libra is ruled by Venus after all, and Venus doesn’t tend to be hesitant to accept special treatment. Finding balance is something Libra is working out over time, and it can be a challenge to find it in either direction! Sometimes we need to speak about the less healthy sides of all the signs!

Scorpio ♏️

They’re private!

Omg I just never understood this one from a personal perspective, as a Scorpio Moon. It seems maybe the people who see it this way are people who themselves aren’t very Scorpionic. Scorpio energy with its intensity might not feel safe opening up to them. But with me, while obviously not all experiences with Scorpios have been the same, there has never been a sign that has voluntarily opened up and shared about the depths of their life more rapidly, more times than I’ve experienced it with Scorpio. Depending where/how placed of course, some also make their taboos known to the general public. Pluto is both what is hidden and what is revealed, and the compulsion of Scorpio can sometimes be to reveal things, if they personally can see them. Not to mention Scorpio is co-ruled by Mars, and that’s an energy that is very up front.

Sagittarius ♐️

They can’t commit

Identifying how they personally view and understand things is very important to Sagittarius, so if they find something or someone they believe in, they could remain loyal with their views and dedication to almost a fault. I guess this stereotype comes from the way that fire is independent, and mutable signs can have fluctuating focuses. But valuing independence just means a Sag could be very happy to commit to a partner who also values it. And as Sagittarius is ruled by Jupiter, the fluctuation of Sagittarius as a mutable sign feels a little different to me, because Jupiter also tends to have a keen interest in establishing its worldviews.

Capricorn ♑️

They’re mean

The energy of Capricorn can be serious (although that’s also what makes some of them the most hilarious people; having developed humor as a coping mechanism to offset their seriousness) and can seem a little harsh to those expecting bubbly treatment. For this reason it tends to just feel more grounded and real to me though. Any sense of coldness that you could get from a Capricorn who has a healthy relationship with their energies does not read to me as mean! It reads as solemn and focused on realness.

Aquarius ♒️

They’re unemotional

Air as a function prioritizes intellectual and logical processing over emotional and intuitive processing, and fixed air can seem especially rigid about this. But does that mean this energy doesn’t experience all the emotions just like the rest of us? Of course not. And sometimes Aquarius can even have deep and honest philosophical conversations about their emotions. Aquarius wants to pick things apart logically and it prioritizes that form of processing to reach an understanding, but it still experiences the range of emotions that others do. And making personal emotions yet another topic they philosophize on can be a healthy thing for this energy, but an even more healthy thing to strive for is allowing the space to just sit with emotions.

Pisces ♓️

They’re chameleons

I personally haven’t observed this one much. Pisces can seem non-confrontational and agreeable, but I usually read that they keep the core essence of their authenticity across dealings with different people. It’s just that their authenticity might actually be expressed in the way that they can appreciate so many different ways to be and live. That Pisces who seems like they’re just acting interested in what you’re interested in to please you might actually be really interested in what makes you tick. Some may act chameleon-like for personal gain or only to avoid conflict, but an evolved Pisces understands that they’re one with everything so truly is interested in the views, loves, and ways of others.

#astrology #zodiac signs #astrology observations #astrology tumblr #astrology community #aries #taurus #gemini #cancer zodiac #leo #virgo #libra #scorpio #sagittarius #capricorn #aquarius #pisces

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webanglikethat · 2 months

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A brief analysis of Wilbur’s “apology”

First part He downplays the severity of his actions by using terms like "slobbish, disrespectful, and selfish" instead of acknowledging the ABUSIVE nature of his behavior. Using terms like those to describe his behavior serves as a form of cognitive distortion known as minimization. By choosing these mild descriptors, the abuser psychologically diminishes the gravity of his actions, making them seem less serious or harmful than they actually are.

By stating that he "regrettably became slobbish, disrespectful, and selfish," he subtly portrays himself as a VICTIM of his own behavior, shifting the focus away from the harm he caused to Shelby. By framing his actions as something that happened to him ("regrettably became"), rather than choices he actively made, he seeks to evoke sympathy and deflect responsibility. This tactic serves to shift the focus away from Shelby's pain and trauma, redirecting attention to his “supposed” remorse and internal “struggles.”

By attributing his behavior to vague reasons like the relationship's "final months," the abuser engages in a form of cognitive distortion known as /externalization of responsibility/. Rather than taking full ownership of his actions and acknowledging his role in perpetuating abuse throughout the entire relationship, he deflects blame onto external circumstances. This tactic serves to minimize his accountability and avoid confronting the uncomfortable truth of his own choices and behaviors.

While he pretends he is sorry for his actions, he does not directly apologize to the victim. Instead, he apologizes for the IMPACT of his behavior, framing it as regret for causing pain rather than RECOGNIZING the harm they inflicted. This framing allows him to maintain a facade of remorse while minimizing the severity of his behavior. Additionally, by focusing on the consequences of his actions rather than the actions themselves, the abuser deflects attention away from the intentional harm he caused.

He attempts to evoke sympathy by claiming to have sought therapy and made lifestyle changes to rectify his past actions. This tactic is designed to evoke sympathy from others, as it suggests that the abuser is taking proactive steps to change and deserves forgiveness or leniency as a result. Fucking pathetic.

Despite acknowledging that “the ex-girlfriend's” feelings are valid, he fails to address her by name, which can be perceived as dehumanizing and dismissive of her individuality and experiences. By depersonalizing the victim and referring to her simply as his "ex-girlfriend," he diminishes her individuality and agency, effectively erasing her identity and reducing her to a mere object or category and victim.

The abuser subtly undermines the victim’s perception of reality by implying that her perspective is equally valid, despite the clear imbalance of power dynamics and harm caused during the relationship.

He focused on his own growth and improvement, rather than acknowledging the depth of pain and trauma experienced by the victim.

Phrases like "with the hope to gain a deeper understanding for the situation" are vague and ambiguous, designed to manipulate the reader into sympathizing with the abuser's purported efforts at self-reflection and growth without providing concrete evidence of genuine change.

Second part

The abuser downplays the seriousness of the allegations by framing it as consensual and playful behavior. This minimization tactic serves to invalidate the victim's experiences and perceptions of the abuse, while also shifting the focus away from his own culpability. By portraying the abuse as consensual and playful, the abuser aims to obscure the power dynamics at play and maintain control over the narrative.

By emphasizing the consensual and enjoyable nature of their interactions, Wilbur subtly gaslights the victim, causing them to doubt her own memories and interpretations of the events.

The abuser’s selective disclosure of mentioning numerous conversations and text exchanges without providing evidence or context serves as a manipulative tactic to control the narrative and manipulate perceptions. By selectively mentioning these interactions without offering transparency or accountability, he maintains control over the information available to others, allowing him to shape the narrative in his favor. This tactic creates an illusion of credibility and legitimacy without actually providing concrete evidence to support his claims. Additionally, by withholding specific details or context, Wilbur effectively prevents others from fully understanding the nature of these interactions and evaluating their relevance to the situation at hand.

While the abuser offers “apologies” for any pain caused, he does so in a vague and non-specific manner, without acknowledging the specific harm or trauma experienced by the victim. This false apology serves to deflect responsibility and avoid genuine accountability for his actions.

Throughout the apology, Wilbur maintains control over the narrative by emphasizing his perspective and intentions.

He also subtly shifts blame onto the victim by implying that their hurt feelings are solely based on a misinterpretation of their interactions. By suggesting that the victim's perception differs from his own, he indirectly suggests that the victim is overreacting or misunderstanding the situation, further invalidating their experiences and emotions.

Throughout the apology, he avoids taking full responsibility for his actions by emphasizing his perspective and intentions. He fails to acknowledge the harm caused by his behavior and instead focuses on how he perceives the interactions, effectively evading accountability for his actions.

Wilbur uses language aimed at eliciting sympathy and understanding from the reader, such as expressing his shock and offering vague apologies. This emotional manipulation tactic seeks to sway public opinion in his favor and mitigate the potential consequences of his actions without genuine remorse or accountability !! Please look out for this in the future.

#tw abuse #fuck wilbur soot #wilbur mcyt #wilbur soot #shelby #shubble

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authorred · 1 year

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Yandere Spencer Reid heacanons because I was inspired |Part 1|

Preface: It’s hard to imagine the upstanding, moral Spencer Reid as an obsessive, compulsive lover who would do anything and everything for your love. Lucky for you, I’m here to help you imagine.

Yandere!Spencer Reid is chefs kiss. Exactly what I need (and want awooga)

Part 2 here Part 3 here

Warning(s): Mentions of violence, stalking, kidnapping, psychological abuse, (un)willing reader (depends on if you fw this imagine), spiral into pure criminality

He is first horrified when he begins to feel the obsession or possession

When he first meets you is when he first begins to get those feelings

Tries his absolute hardest to logic his way out of it, or to control it, or to seek help

Tries his best to communicate to you as a healthy, normal person would, but he can’t help but find those thoughts creeping in again

He believes it’ll be better if you’re away from him, but his thoughts and feelings change to hardcore yearning

Knows it’s not love he’s feeling, and is potentially dangerous to you

Might spiral down into a breakdown (or a few) because of it

Will genuinely think of himself as a horrible person who thinks he can’t get help

If you try to help him he’ll vehemently decline it and will tell you it’s a bad idea

Others at the BAU try their hardest to help him, but the thoughts are still there

If Reid sees you interacting with someone who seems interested in you, his mind will implode

Will be constantly trying to justify the person’s ‘disappearance’ to himself for hours whilst alone

Will come up with the excuse that the person is dangerous to you, or has the potential to be (his calculations will be slightly skewed)

At first, he’ll ask Morgan or Hotch to help him ‘deal with’ the person, but since the person is literally innocent, they can’t do anything

He gets frustrated but brushes it off as paranoia

Spencer starts to find himself hovering near where your house is just to ‘check in’ on you to see if you’re alright

To him, he’s just being protective over you. He wants you safe

But he also knows if he springs all of his thoughts and worries on you, you’ll hate him

Whenever he thinks about you hating him he feels like he can’t breathe

He needs you to like him--love him, even

As weeks and months go by, he doesn’t fight his impulsive thoughts as much as before

Whenever you’re near, you have 100% of his attention. He barely looks away from you if you’re within his line of sight

He’s a nervous wreck when you talk

He’s scared he’ll mess up and say something that’ll fuck your friendship up

He’s not good at mincing words, so he has to carefully curate his sentences

When you smile or laugh at something he says, he feels high

When you mention someone who’s not a part of the BAU, that high disappears instantly

It’s replaced with a cold disinterest in whoever it is you’re speaking about

He tries to manipulate the conversation to see if he can pull more info out of you about the person

He takes advantage of his access to FBI equipment and software to find the person

He makes sure to cover his tracks thoroughly and will not rest until he’s sure any audit trail or history or whatever isn’t linked back to him

When he finds the person’s personal info, he finds himself ‘checking them out’

Will take walks in front of their house, or follow them

Does this for every person who’s not an overt threat

He will, however, drop whatever stalkerish shit he’s doing if you call or text him

If someone does ask you out, or you mention going on a date, or talking to a person of interest, haha

Someone’s going to die

Once Spencer gets the necessary information, he’ll stalk the person out

He might have a conversation with them, profile them, and then talk about their relationship to you

He’s more than likely not strong enough to physically overpower a person of above-average strength, but he’s got the brains to make the odds even

Will create an elaborate plan to get the person to come to him instead

Whenever he does manage to kidnap/isolate the person, he won’t kill them immediately

He’d have a genuine heart-to-heart with them

He’d say you’re his. He’ll say he’s yours, and whoever tries to take you away (be it romantically or otherwise) will be met with a steep response. He’ll say he loves you, and will do anything to be sure you’re with him, and only him

Probably kills the person by slitting their throat. A bullet is too easily identifiable

He’ll comfort you if you’re saddened by your date’s/person of interest’s disappearance

When you hug him, his entire body goes hot

He hugs you tightly (probably a bit too tight)

He verbally comforts you as best he can, and assures you you’ll go on other dates (hopefully with him)

He’ll gently rock you if you’re hugging for a long time

If you pull away first, he’ll try to keep you in the hug, but will let go if you push him away

He’ll let you sleep on him, and he’ll stare at you while you do

He’ll think to himself about how beautiful you are, and how you deserve everything, and how much you deserve him especially

He gets a lot pushier after that, especially when it comes to you getting close with others

Will physically hover closer to you

Will glower at anyone who looks at you a certain way

Will never let you privy to these thoughts and habits and behaviors of his until he’s sure you can handle/accept them

He will definitely try to gaslight you and/or emotionally manipulate you if he thought it’d make you like/trust him more

You’d trust him, most likely. He’s Spencer mf Reid, why wouldn’t you

He wouldn’t psychologically manipulate/abuse you that much, and wouldn’t physically put his hands on you unless he had to

He notices the obsessive and compulsive thoughts calm when he’s around you, so he wants you next to him almost 24/7

Gets very disenchanted and uninterested when you’re not around

The team believes him to be down bad

They think he’s a puppy in love with you and find it adorable

Will mention you often to get him engaged

Sometimes he’ll just push through a case due to the thought of seeing you after

If he gets injured on a case, his first and only thought would be his desire to not die and leave you behind. Anything else comes secondary

If you’re a mother figure, or give off ‘motherly’ vibes, that’ll make this worse

If you initiate any form of physical contact, he will beam

Literally treats you like an actual god(dess) (aside from the occasional emotional manipulation but yk)

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mdhwrites · 2 months

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My Frustration With Belos

As a presence, Belos is fantastic. He actually has probably some of the best animation in the series and arguably the best voice actor in the entire cast. He sells every line Belos has with a gravity and menace that the emperor might otherwise not have. He sells his anger but also his control and even after I stopped liking the show, I found my attention demanded when he desired it.

Unfortunately, as a character he absolutely fucking sucks and is almost impossible to take seriously.

He only functions as Belos. Not even Emperor Belos because once you bring in that title, you have to tilt your head and ask "Well, what is he as an emperor? How does he use his minions to enact his will? What is his will?" In that order:

He is a kind, stately emperor who only asks for one rule to be obeyed. Even if you stayed out of the fold, if you come to him willingly seeking forgiveness, you will be granted it and absolved of your crimes, like with the wild witch friend in Hollow Mind. He revolutionized the Isles, turning them from seeming small towns to a now interconnected nation (his rise to power is literally impossible with news being able to spread so people can fact check him) and brought safety and regulation to a land that has none (Terra acts like the Safety codes in Them's the Breaks are new or something so beneath a proper witch as to be able to be entirely ignored and no one cares.) No one faces persecution except those who flaunt breaking his one rule but you may be of any race, skin color, belief, etc. and he doesn't care. You are all equal in his eyes.

He uses his minions weakly. They are bumbling fools who are honestly better at party planning than they are at combat (look at... Literally any fight with the EC scouts frankly. The literal only wins they get is raiding an empty, unguarded house and attacking two exhausted, distracted witches who are out of power.) They are seemingly not punished for this though except supposedly at the higher ranks. Even then, they are merely demoted. Those who wish to leave also show no fear in doing so, as proven by the EC scout who says fuck this and goes off to join the cute cat coven. This displays a lack of interest in power or enforcement.

His will appears to be to bring order to a land of chaos. To bring structure and unity to a land that didn't have it. He will go to any length, including manipulation, lying and threats in order to obtain this. He keeps mystique about him, seeming to believe that being feared is stronger than being loved, fitting with his claims that the Titan speaks to him and wishes for a rather extreme societal change. One he will see to no matter what.

These are... Actually interesting. You know, until you remember his actual goal is the genocide of literally every living being on the Isles. Then they come across as incredibly stupid, inept and backwards for what ANY of his goals should be and that's without getting into how his plan explicitly left out the entire child population of the Isles. This means he didn't even actually want to get the job done properly before he fucked off.

That is befitting Philip and Belos though as actual manipulators. They both are on easy street as far as it goes. The one manipulation we see from Philip is by using two people who clearly want something from him and are interested in helping him so so long as he doesn't literally start throwing fists, he's fine. Belos meanwhile leverages Eda's curse against Lilith, an entire fake backstory against Hunter, and just being Kikimora's boss to get what he wants. Anyone not in the EC though he never manages once to actually convince of anything and he is pretty bad at actually keeping up his deceptions.

This is of course made worse by knowing that 400 years ago, that commanding presence that is Belos... Was actually just a whiny British bloke who couldn't even wait until after his victims were dead to gloat about it. I tooooootally still fear him, especially as S3 commits narrative contrivance after narrative contrivance to A: let him be ALIVE and B: to let him win, CONSTANTLY, without also murdering the main characters. Like he literally tells a group of witches and a monster "I'm saving your souls," while he has them all at his mercy, having already shown he was more than capable of beating them all... And leaves. Because he is REALLY bad at his goal.

And honestly, him being so bluntly tied to a movement, time period and ethnicity that all bluntly say he's Christian without saying he's Christian... Actually just kind of makes him worse. Knowing his beliefs makes his behavior BAFFLING. He has none of the actual zeal and fury of a crusader, who were so bloodthirsty as to have peasants march on their own as they screamed Deus Vult, nor does he have the actual politics and methodologies of colonizers. The closest he is is a missionary and that's not even the case because he's not interested in conversion, only genocide. He is just an asshole who has the label "Christian.

It says nothing. Most of his character says nothing. They slam you over the head saying he should be saying something, that his backstory should be deep and that he had grand plans but if you interrogate these claims, no he doesn't. He says nothing except "Christianity bad" and essentially condemns the ENTIRE RELIGION because of how little nuance there is to him, his backstory makes him look pathetic, whiny and potentially sympathetic which makes no sense with the rest of his character, and his grand plan was literally DESIGNED to fail because he never gave it any real thought or else he would have baptized witches into being in covens so they had the sigils from birth and he'd get ALL OF THEM.

He is perhaps the personification of what is wrong with TOH in this way. If you look at any one scene, it seems to promise so much. The animation is correct. The voice acting is correct. You can see what themes he's supposed to be talking about and can make a Twitter post very easily about it. But... These are all surface level and only function as moments.

As a whole story, as a whole character, it falls to tatters as you see there was nothing there except conflicting promises and basic fantasy tropes.

======+++++======

I'm trying to not blog about TOH as much anymore because I'm just kind of tired of it but Belos has always been a thorn in my side because there are so many scenes that are so effective with him but when I think of him as a whole, I have nothing but boredom and annoyance. So I wanted to properly explore that and highlight how little sense his character makes and why just consuming him like popcorn is functional, even good, but if you try to have him for dinner, you'll find only bones.

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

A Twitter you can follow too

And a Kofi if you like what I do and want to help out with the fact that disability doesn’t pay much.

#emperor belos #the owl house criticism #toh critical #toh #the owl house

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random-introverted-blog · 4 months

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His Star - His Queen [Chapter 5 - A Lesson in Submission]

The first of many...

Summary: Perhaps you push your defiance a bit too far. Perhaps it would have been wiser to be more tactful with your behavior.

Perhaps this was only a matter of time.

Link to the Tumblr Chapter Index

Want the uncut/uncensored version? - Read it on AO3

Warning/Advisories: -Noncon elements - A ripped nightdress and noncon roaming hands on bare skin (He warned you in Chapter 1)

HI TUMBLR, THIS IS FOR YOU: The graphic scene was cut from this version because I'm not comfortable having an SA scene left hanging on my blog. If you want to read the GRAPHIC, UNCENSORED AND UNCUT SCENE - the link to the AO3 version is above.

-Emotional manipulation

-Forced pleasure

-Generally creepy dialogue (chapter 4 ramped up to 11)

-You fro up and have a relatively realistic response to being assaulted

-There's a party happening down there and you're fiancé isn't letting you participate

A/N: Sorry guys, I'm sure there's other people who have written and posted something like this on tumblr before but that ain't for me. But I worked like a dog to get this chapter written and edited. It's as good as I can get without tearing my hair out [Thank you, bestie for putting up with me, Astarion ain't even your mans]

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

For the rest of the walk, you couldn't help but notice the curious stares you were catching from the servants and patrolling guards. Though the latter seemed less perplexed, the former looked between you and the Ascendant like you had two heads and noodles for hair. Worse, some of them seemed... jealous.

If you could tell there people to have some self respect, you would make a formal announcement where ever the Ascendant and his puppets make them. But at least for now, you need to try to behave.

Even the sound of the word makes your skin crawl.

When you reach the door to what you assume is Orchid Hall, a swirling darkness appears behind you before rapidly becoming a person. "Forgive the intrusion, your Almighty—"

"I said no interruptions, Ballar." Astarion bites, glaring at the tall and lanky elf man.

Ballar, hands clasped behind his back, bows his head. "I know better than to do so without reason, my Godking."

"Godking?" You echo, glaring at the Ascendant. "You're more conceited than I thought, and that's saying something."

His gaze hardens, firm. "You are still learning, it is only your first day. And I do not wish to discipline you on your first day, pet." He warns in a tone that is the farthest from your Astarion that you've heard. "An apology will suffice as suitable recompense this time." Straightening his posture and lifting his chin.

Oh, so that's a button for him. Is it because you're in front of people, or does he not like being called out on his bullshit? If he expects you to actually seek forgiveness, then you suppose the both of you are in for a surprise.

The Ascendant studies your expression and seems to realize you have no intention of indulging him. With a deep groan bordering on a growl, he looks away. "Much as I love you and your strength of will, there is a time to exert it and a time to submit to your husband-to-be. And it seems to be a lesson I will need to have with you sooner rather than later."

He turns to Malacai, his arm raised in a familiar gesture that reaches above his navel. "Take my fiancé inside and guide her along until I return." And just like that, he steps away with the tall elf, who simply acknowledges you with a respectful "Lady Ancunín" before following close behind his master.

"My lady, if I may," Malacai's mellow, velvety smooth voice says to grab your attention. For a brief moment you feel concern but whatever "lesson" he has in mind, but you let it go for now and turn to drag yourself through the doors. Precise and perfectly timed, Malacai opens and holds the door for you and flows smoothly into step behind you.

Until you come to an abrupt stop, and he immediately stops behind you.

For a moment, you're left bewildered and unsure how to interpret this. Some well armored guards in fancy armor stationed in the corners, sure. A long row of men and woman, of somewhat varying ages. None of them seem even close to their elderly years, but you also weren't very sure about how other races aged. Also, no gnomes. Or dwarfs. Halflings seemed to be the fewest in number. Elves, half-elves, tieflings, and humans made up the combined majority with some half orcs and dragonborns in between.

"Would my lady like an explanation of the task set before her?" Malacai asks beside you, his hands clasped behind his straightened back after you've had time to assess the row of people.

"Yes. Please." You nod once, not moving your eyes from the row, feeling mildly self conscious as they stare at you with half stifled confusion.

Malacai steps into your field of view but not in front of it. "Of course, my lady. His Almighty Majesty has gathered these offerings to be selected and chosen for your esteemed service. He would like you to personally choose a number of them, if it would please you."

Your eyes knit together. "Please me?" You query.

"If you deem the matter unsuitable or beneath you, His Majesty will respect your wishes and handle the matter himself."

"Now wait just a tick!" says a raised voice from the line and a quick scan of them quickly reveals a human, possibly in her mid thirties with light colored hair and wearing a broach of some kind. "I was told the sovereign himself would pick the servants, not some nobody prissy!" She glares at you, her words seemingly rallying some of the others to her cause...

The response surprises the both of you, and you're perfectly fine agreeing with them and taking your leave. Malacai is stunned, though - and anger flashes in his eyes. "You dare speak of—!"

"Yeah, who let the tramp trudge through the door?" Another woman sneers, some taking a threatening step or two in your direction.

"Look, I'm just—" But like Malacai, they're not interested in what you have to say. They want their sovereign and they're getting very loud about it.

And everything that follows occurs in a blur, leaving no time for a response. In a fit of rage, the woman flings her broach towards you. The pin connects with your cheek, piercing the skin. You instinctively flinch and reach for it, warm blood trickling down your face in a thin stream. The broach then tumbles to the floor, making a sharp clattering sound.

In an instant, the shadows swiftly converge in front of you from the dim corners of the room, swirling and twirling in a mesmerizing dance. Suddenly, they burst open, resembling a plume of smoke after an explosion. Gradually, the shadows recede, cascading like a heavy blanket, steadily taking the form of a humanoid figure, mirroring Him with its imposing stature that towered over the room and the presence of large, jagged wings. The cacophony of screams and cries emanates from the furious crowd, creating a dissonant symphony of fear.

The atmosphere was charged with tension, but as the creature surveyed the scene, it became clear that there was no genuine danger. The shadows slowly peeled back, unveiling the visage of a relatively normal, though gorgeous elf, with pale skin and a crown of curly white hair.

Unconcerned about the once angry mob, he diverts his attention to you, his grip on your chin steady as he meticulously observes every aspect of your face. He narrows his eyes and huffs through his nose upon assessing only the one scratch. With a silent command, he raises his hand, and the shadows immediately obey, darkening until his palm becomes an inky abyss. He then places it softly against your cheek.

Biting cold pierces through the air in front of you, like tiny needles pricking at your skin. The faint scent of winter frost drifts from his shadow shrouded hand, followed soon by subtle warmth as his magic seals the slight break, like a gentle caress. "Which one?" He asks no one specifically, as if searching for an answer that only the silence can provide.

Lacking any hesitation, the others shove the woman to the front, paying no mind to her feeble protests. Astarion doesn't look up right away. Instead, he slowly released his hand and carefully studied his work. The darkness slowly retreats from his palm, and he gently massages the area where the cut once was with his bare thumb.

At last he turns to the silent row of servants, and the woman in particular. "You dare to lay a finger upon the one who is destined to share my throne? How quaint." Astarion's sneer is filled with disdain, steadfastly holding his ground before you, almost protectively. The fury evident in his eyes.

The woman's face became a canvas of realization and horror as she desperately shook her head, attempting to retreat. Once more, Astarion raises his hand, and inky tendrils of shadow emerge, wrapping tightly around her and forcefully dragging her closer. "Oh no," he sneers, a malicious glint in his eyes, "you disgusting little worm, you're going nowhere." The threads coil around her, their grip tightening as she's forced to her knees before him.

Astarion's eyes meet yours as he turns to you, his hand reaching out to take yours, coaxing you to stand by his side. "Think of this as another chance for me to teach you something, darling." He steps aside, gently guiding you until you stand directly in front of her.

So she's kneeling before you.

"Now. Look upon this creature. What do you see?" The Ascendant asks, slowly circling behind the woman.

"Astarion—"

"Answer." He interjects sharply, bringing his open hand up and closing it. The woman winces as the dark strands around her constrict.

Despite your desire to save or spare the woman, make him stop or even just not take part in this, you begrudgingly accept you have to play along for now. You exhale deeply and look her over. Her eyes, red and swollen, were filled with tears that cascaded down her face and dripped off her jawline. She's sniveling, her shoulders shaking and voice quivering. Her breaths come in unsteady gasps, a sign she's teetering on the edge of a hysterical outburst.

It's a trick question. The real question is how much you really want to play his game? "I see a woman who didn't—"

"Wrong." The Ascendant scolds firmly, his reprimanding tone interrupting you as he leisurely strolls back to your side. "Before you kneels an insect. A pest. A creature fit only to serve however we desire."

"She didn't know who I was, Astarion," you argue, your voice filled with defiance. Turning to face him, a flicker of amusement dances across his face, challenging your statement. "Or rather, who you insist I am," you risked correcting, folding your arms resolutely over your chest.

A subtle change comes over Astarion as a hint of darkness flashes in Astarion's eyes, followed by a frustrated scoff. "Your denial will do you no favors, pet. Best you understand and accept your new life now and save us both the pain." There's something about the way he lowers his voice and the intensity in his eyes quells any retorts or defiance you could lash back with.

Clearly, he discerns your reaction from your facial expression and appears pleased with your compliance. He smooths his jacket and delicately grips your shoulders, redirecting you towards the woman. "Your natural inclination is to think of this creature empathetically. But you don't think twice if a fly crosses your ear one time too many." The Ascendant continues, his hands lingering on your shoulders. "Now, if the fly had been a mere nuisance, perhaps it could be ignored. But if it had bitten you? Harmed you...?"

"Please..." you mutter, your voice tinged with pleading. A sinking feeling manifests in your gut, already hating where this was going.

"Say the word, my consort." Astarion urges softly, his hands drifting to encircle his arms around your waist.

The urge in your blood knows exactly what it is being called to do. What's being offered. It would much rather your own hands be the ones tearing the wings off this insect. Gouging its pretty teary eyes from those fragile sockets. But you close your eyes, letting the world fade away as you concentrate on the calming rhythm of your breaths. Ironically, the smell of bergamot, rosemary, and the aroma of a frosty winter evening ground you. You find yourself instinctively leaning into him somewhat, seeking more of the comfort to hold the urge at bay.

When your eyes open, a tear or two rolls down your cheek, their journey ending on the dark blue sleeve of the Ascendant's tailcoat, creating small wet spots. The warmth of his breath flushes your ear as he sighs against it and he adjusts his arms to hold your back snug against his chest. "It was difficult for your old self too, the first couple of times..." He murmurs sympathetically, his lips brushing against your temple in a soft kiss. "Ballar."

At the sound of the uttered name, the tall elf materializes beside the two of you. "Very well, your Almighty Majesty." The elf nods with a respectful bow of his back before approaching the woman. His grip is firm as he clasps her arm tightly. Suddenly, a plume of dark smoke envelops them, obscuring their forms from sight. The air carries a faint, acrid scent as they vanish into the mysterious smoke, leaving you with an uneasy feeling. Whatever silent command was issued, maybe you don't want to know.

Astarion remains close to you for the rest of the... selection thing. There's an incident where one of the halfling girls tries begging you to choose her, which almost kicks off another dramatic mob, but Astarion is quick to shut it down.

Calling it uncomfortable would be an understatement. When you ask if there is a criteria or whatnot to follow, he almost literally dismisses you with a "pfft." It is only when he comprehends the seriousness of your question that he adds with a more compassionate tone, "whatever pleases you, my dear... but not all of them - there will be a wider selection after the festival."

Near the end you notice a young tiefling girl. Grey skinned with the shortest horns you'd ever seen. Astarion had indicated an interest in moving on from this, and his hand on your shoulder reminded you of it. But he didn't stop you from wandering over to her.

You recognized the look in her dark, fiery eyes. Not just desperation. Purpose. It wasn't anything you could put your finger on as you held each other's gaze. For better or worse, you were curious about what she felt so strongly about that led her here. Come to think of it, she wasn't involved in any of the earlier chaos. "What's your name?" You had asked the other ten or fewer this question as well, as you weren't fond of the idea that they'd be nameless creatures in your service.

Plus, you could tell Astarion disliked you were asking, and that was a nice incentive.

She held her head high and awkwardly held her arms behind her back. "Elowen, Lady Ancunín."

Behind you, the vampire lord let out an annoyed huff, clearly bothered by both your question and what you assumed was an improper way of addressing of you. You didn't care. "I'd welcome you if you'd like to accept the offer." You say, your attempt at a smile faltering.

Surprisingly, this is the first one you've talked to that reacts almost sympathetically. As if noticing how forced your gesture really is. Maybe even recognizing the dissonance between your genuine desires and everything that surrounds you. "It would be an honor to serve you... my lady." Elowen bows and quickly corrects herself when her eyes catch a glimpse of the vampire and Steward behind you.

"That will do for now, my sweet." Astarion's voice sounded from behind and gently tugged you away and encircled an arm around your waist. He snapped his fingers with his other hand and servants entered the room. They move with silent understanding. "Considering everything," he adds once you're near the door, "you did well."

Part of you is reminded of all his "lessons," including the one he hinted at earlier about the importance of submission. Dread finds a home in the pit of your stomach, making it heavy and uneasy. You don't really care to learn the intricacies of ruling, being his queen, or any of it. It won't matter in the end. Not when you get free of this place and return to your world, where the warmth and safety of your friends will make you feel whole again. And you will get free.

...won't you?

________________

Day in, day out, it was almost the same. Sometimes he'd tutor you himself, other times it was Malacai. There had been a considerable focus on etiquette and presenting oneself, which you could only assume had to do with this festival you had heard so much talk about.

They assured you that your confinement to this wing of the palace was not permanent. Once your engagement to the godking had been announced, there would be less need to hide you away. But for now, the Ascendant wanted your presence kept quiet.

You had seen little of the servants you picked several days ago. Malacai said they were undergoing a strict training regimen in preparing to serve a ruling sovereign.

An endless parade of seamstresses and shoemakers had trotted their way through the doors of the southwest wing. You weren't one to be dolled up or wear silly dresses to begin with, and this just deepened the feeling. But the Ascendant wanted you in a special outfit for the engagement and you were still beholden to what he wanted.

Not for long, you told yourself every day. This would not be your forever.

The seamstresses and shoemakers worked tirelessly and with no complaint at how difficult you made their lives, though the Ascendant had sat in a few times and tried to encourage you to be less resistant to some suggestions, though he was more involved in the design of your dress for the festival.

As for your interactions with him? They were surprisingly tame. At most, he would hug you. Press a sweet, lingering kiss to your cheek or peck your lips. Maybe at one point he kissed your neck, and his hands wandered. But never for long and never too far. Just enough, you were certain it was on his mind.

If you felt uncomfortable or instinctive recoiled, he wouldn't stop you from drawing away. He would smile a little, as if to say "you just need time" and that would be that.

You hadn't even slept in the same bed yet. He went to the royal bedchamber, and you tucked yourself into yours. It was a nightly routine for him to visit you before bed. Occasionally, your exchanges were filled with playful banter, but at other times, they took a confrontational turn or revolved around his plans for you. And he would always kiss you goodnight. Never on the lips. Like a fragile little princess.

"May I offer you more reading material, my beloved?" He asks upon entering your room, noticing you in your nightgown, an open book propped up on your knees.

To your surprise, he was there, and a part of you couldn't help but be taken aback. "Tomorrow is the big day. I thought you'd be too busy tonight." You comment with curiosity and reach for the glass of water on your bedside table.

The Ascendant huffs a soft laugh, the sound escaping like a gentle breeze. "Not too busy for you, no," he stated, a smile evident in his voice.

You sip your water, taking him in. Simple clothes. He seldom wears them, not even at this hour. It brings to mind his old camp clothes, though they appear less tattered. His black shirt clung tightly to his body, accentuating the contours of his sculpted chest. He wore dark brown pants so tight that they seemed to be painted on, leaving little room for comfort. As you set down your glass, the gentle tapping of rain against the window fills the room, setting the ideal mood for reading. "The bookcase in here is paltry to begin with."

He pauses, and the silence hangs heavy in the room, reverberating off the walls. Out of the corner of your eye, you glimpse his focused gaze, carefully assessing the size of the small bookcase. The scent of aged paper and polished wood lingers in the air, adding to the ambiance. "Hmm," he muses, his voice carrying a hint of intrigue. "Agreed. Would you like me to remedy it?" His question hangs in the air as he redirects his gaze back to you, waiting for your response.

It catches you off guard, although it shouldn't. "I want nothing from you." You mutter quietly, not interested in a verbal confrontation at this hour. "Unless it's letting me go home." Absentmindedly turning the page of your book, you caught a whiff of the musty scent of old pages.

It comes as no surprise that the suggestion causes the Ascendant to bristle with indignation. "You��are home, pet." His firm reply echoes exactly as you anticipated.

He reaches across and effortlessly plucks the book from your grip, flinging it to the other end of the bed. Without missing a beat, his hand tenderly moves to hold your face. "Perhaps it's time you've learnt what home feels like." His voice dipped low and sultry, sending a shiver down your spine, as if velvet caressed your ears.

Unable to think clearly, your mind is consumed by confusion as you struggle to understand his intentions. Searching his crimson eyes for a hint of the intent behind his words.

It dawns on you a second too late and your body becomes rigid and dread crashes over you like a tidal wave. "Lay back and hold still."

Right from the start, you find yourself wrestling against his orders, determined to regain control of your body. In the blink of an eye, he's on the bed, asserting his control as he positions himself on top of you, straddling your legs and keeping them trapped beneath him.

The overwhelming task of regaining control of your limbs leaves no space in your mind for insults. With a gentle yet firm grip, he tears your gown open, his lips finding their way to your jawline, leaving a trail of sweet kisses and teasing bites. Lowering his mouth along your neck, he senses the rapid throb of your pulse, a reflection of your panic. "Your scent is even more alluring than your other self," he whispers against your skin, his fangs appearing much sharper than your Astarion's, delicately grazing over your pulse. "I've waited over a century for you, my love... To find you..."

Before you have time to process any of what he just said, the ordinarily sharp, frigid piercing feeling now just feels like two tiny daggers of ice melting deep into your neck. But then the sharp sting of his fangs gives way, and you're left with a strangely soothing sensation that defies explanation. A calming tingle that dances across your senses and defies logic. It leaves you gasping for air, but the soothing caress of his hand in your hair seems to be an attempt to reassure you as he drinks deeply. Meanwhile, you begin to wiggle your toes, feeling a tingling sensation as you strive for control over your legs.

With a contented groan, he indulges in one last sip from you before withdrawing and gently lapping at your weeping wound until it ceases to yield any more to his palate. The scent of your blood lingers, mingling with the heady aroma of bergamot and rosemary and frost, his increasingly familiar presence all creating a bewildering blend to your senses. "Exquisite... Even better, I could scarcely believe it a possibility." The Ascendant muses quietly as his hands explore the curves and contours of your vulnerable body, tracing every line and curve with a mix of curiosity and desire.

He hastily grabs his shirt, yanking it over his head as impatience fuels his movements. He swiftly pulls off his pants in two motions. Just then, you feel a tingling sensation as your right leg awakens, granting you unrestricted movement.

You jab your foot at his chest, and you can feel the strength and power in his grip as he effortlessly catches it. With a firm yet gentle grip, his hand closes around your ankle, arching an eyebrow in intrigue and amusement. "Impressive..." The Ascendant remarks. "I may need to use stronger charms on you already."

As his words resonated in the air, he appeared to be contemplating them aloud, while his fingertips traced the smooth surface of the gold and silver band that snugly encircled your ankle, emphasizing the sense of captivity within this elegant prison. You question if his attention on it is to underscore your status as his possession or if he's simply delighting in the knowledge that you belong to him.

Until you find a way out of here. You have to find a way out...

Releasing your foot, he deftly flicks his wrist, conjuring a shadowy tether that extends from the shackle and secures itself to the bedpost.

"Don't fight this, my treasure." The Ascendant murmurs. With a slow, deliberate movement, he delicately hooks his knee under your left leg, guiding your body to open itself wider to him, causing a shiver to cascade through your body. "Once you experience how pleasurable submission to me can be, you'll hardly fathom you resisted me at all." His words, laced with a velvety purr, penetrate your senses, capturing your attention completely.

The moment your hands regain their freedom, they shoot forward, eager to rake your nails across his bare chest. Yet, his reflexes outmatch yours as he quickly seizes your wrists, forcefully pinning them beside your head. "The Astarion I know and love values consent above all else." You finally hiss behind your teeth, hating the way your voice wavers. "He didn't need to force me down like this..."

"And he will never make you feel the way I can," smirks the Ascendant, his voice oozing with confidence and a seductive undertone.

"Now relax, little love..." Your senses ignite as a rigid, pulsating sensation grazes over your sensitive nub...

And he teaches you a lesson you won't be so merciful to forget...

______________________

You nuzzle closer to the warmth rather than open your eyes, encouraged by the soothing touch of fingers in your hair. Gods, you could lay here forever. When was the last time you slept this well? With...

The thought dies off, and you tentatively peel your eyes open. Dread sits in your stomach as you realize your position. Practically laying on top of a naked Ascendant. "Good morning, darling." He purrs, his fingers gently tangling in your hair, before pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "I've had a warm bathe prepared, ready for you to immerse your beautifully bare skin whenever you desire."

As you move, you realize just how sorely your body aches. There's a dull pain between your legs and your cheeks flush faintly remembering how... immense he felt last night. Mercifully, he pretends not to notice as you fall limp against him. An around you didn't realize was around your back tightens some as you press closer, his hand and fingers stroking gentle patterns on the smooth expanse of your skin. "You said something last night," your voice hoarse and dry as you speak, "about waiting over a century." Turning your head on his sculpted chest to meet his scarlet eyes.

Behind his lips, a subtle hum escapes, reminiscent of soft laughter, as he tilts his head to one side. "Well, your other self didn't abandon me yesterday." He murmurs, petting your hair. "Finding you, acquiring the means to reach you, to bring you here. It didn't all happen in an evening." Something about his choice of words unsettles you. More than just finding out the Other You died one hundred and fifty years ago.

His fingers lifting your chin, guiding your lips to his. You don't fight it; you know better. Not now. Not when you're naked in the same bed as him. Vulnerable... "As much as I'd like to remain here, savoring the morning of our first lovemaking with you, there is much to be done before the festival tonight."

"That's what you think it was?" The words fall off your tongue before you can think better of them.

The Ascendant pulls back just enough to see both your eyes clearly, almost searching them. "What else could it be?" The words soft, warm. Like a wolf in sheep's clothing. You don't fail to note the serrated teeth laced along them. He's daring you to challenge him...

Silence is your only answer. And that seems enough to satisfy Astarion's quiet annoyance with you.

He presses a tender, lingering kiss to your lips and you reciprocate despite the knot it creates in your gut. Only risking to remember your Astarion after he's pulled away and carefully guided you off of him to slip out from the covers and leave the bed. Curiously, he wanders over to an armoire you've never touched and when he opens it you see tailcoats, doublets, jackets, dressy shirts with ruffled sleeves and collars... He's been keeping a spare change of clothes in your room the whole time. "I'm going to bathe separately, otherwise nothing will get done..." The Ascendant explains to your unspoken confusion. With that, he dresses himself, regards you with a brief smile and leaves the room.

Just like that, you're alone with yourself. Nearly overwhelmed with a deep loathing for your own flesh. Every fibre of your being recoils in disgust. The repulsion extends beyond the surface, rooted deep within your very core. The weight of despair anchors you to the bed, but a desperate urgency propels you towards the shower, disregarding the searing ache between your legs.

Frantically, your hands vigorously scrub at your body, the harsh friction against your skin amplifying the turmoil in your stomach. The memories of last night assault your mind relentlessly, like a relentless storm. The room feels suffocating, the air thick with the scent of regret and desperation. How could you have surrendered so easily? Disappointment settles upon you, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth as you reflect on your lack of determination. Does your Astarion mean nothing to you? Doubt seeps into your thoughts, questioning your own abilities, your own worth. Is it because deep down, unknown to you, you fear you can't escape on your own?

Will he even want you back after this? Gods, it's like you barely put up a fight against the bastard. All he had to do was climb on top of you and...

Abruptly, you jerk your head over the side of the bath, the sensation of nausea overwhelming you as your stomach empties, contents spilling onto the pristine white tile.

Then you allowed yourself to go completely slack, feeling the edge dig into your ribs you as you fell onto it. Warm tears cascaded down your cheeks, blending with the fluid pooling on the floor.

The first sob wracks your body not long after...

__________

Whatever happened to a good pair of pants? Whose idea was it that all the fancy ladies should wear dresses most of the time? And why in the hells are you considered a fancy lady? You never wanted to be such a thing. A nice, quiet ocean side home was probably the closest to "fancy" you'd ever choose for yourself.

But that's the keyword, isn't it? You didn't choose this for yourself...

Soft hands touch yours, causing you to retract your hand swiftly. "Leave my nails out of this." You hiss at whichever servant girl made the attempt on your fingers.

Through an instinctive wince at the comb in your hair, your eyes catch the sight of dark and fiery eyes as the tiefling kneels beside you. "Forgive me, Lady Ancunín. I promise I will only tidy them up." She smiles, and it almost feels comforting. True to her word, she simply files them down to a clean, round shape. Cleaning the dirt from underneath. She was one of the few servants from the ones you chose in the room with you. Astarion chose the others with precision, carefully assigning them the duty of taking care of you and making sure you were prepared for the evening. And as they incessantly fussed over, brushed, and prodded you, they were steadily making you want to gouge your eyes out in frustration.

However, this tiefling and the one or two others you picked that were here with you carried themselves differently, and it wasn't just because they were untrained. As they tended to you, you were fairly certain that Malacai's critical observations of their work had nothing to do with it.

"Elowen, isn't it?" You ask, free from Astarion's constant shadow to treat these poor girls like people. As you speak, a gentle breeze brushes your skin from the open window, carrying with it the scent of blooming flowers. The knowledge of your time spent with Malacai reassures you he wasn't one who would readily report you for such minor infractions.

Meeting your gaze, the tiefling's eyes held a subtle surprise. At a loss for words, she quickly recovered and graced you with yet another lovely smile. "Thank you." The words are sincere from your heart.

Something passes fleetingly across her face, and even in that momentary glimpse, you recognize what it is.

Understanding. How wonderful it feels to be seen as a person.

Not long afterward, the servants finish your hair - and you can feel the weightless, silky strands falling into place with gentle waves. The custom designed, elegant blue dress, with its delicate silver swirls and leaf embroidery on the shoulders and collar, fell just short of your ankles, exuding an air of grace.

Deep brown ankle-high shoes, crafted with precision, expertly concealed the shackle from prying eyes. Although you couldn't discern their exact material, their undeniable comfort put a smile on your face. These shoes were the only item you took the time to specify to the shoemaker, and they certainly didn't disappoint. Honestly, you did like these.

To your relief, Astarion did not insist that the seamstress design a low neckline for the gown. It revealed only the slightest tease of your cleavage. Sure, it was because he wanted to be the only one who delighted in the view of your body, visually and... otherwise. But even that you were thankful for somewhat. Anything to escape the feeling of being a prized possession on exhibition.

A feeling that intensifies as you follow Malacai through the door to exit the wing of the palace you've been imprisoned in. You thought the stares in there were bad, but this was even worse. And shameless. Whispers, like delicate feathers, brush against your ears. Carrying snippets of conversations, questioning your identity, as you pass by servants and what you assumed were guests as your personal steward escorted you through unfamiliar halls. The walls themselves emanate a feeling of grandeur tinged with a touch of uneasiness. The cool marble floors beneath your feet seem to magnify the restlessness in the atmosphere.

Two towering guards, adorned in gleaming silver armor, stand resolutely on either side of a magnificent pair of double doors. Painted in pristine white and adorned with intricate gold trim. As you and Malacai draw near, the guards gracefully swing the doors open, revealing a grand entrance, their movement accompanied by a faint creaking sound. A rush of cool air, tinged with a hint of polished brass, mahogany and fresh baked goods, greets you as you step into the grand foyer beyond. However, amidst their dutiful actions, the guards' piercing gazes linger on you, filled with a mix of curiosity and intrigue.

Suddenly, you're amidst a throng of people, the sounds of chatter and footsteps filling the air, with Malacai constantly by your side, ushering you towards a grand-looking dais or platform. The Ascendant, dressed in a white ensemble with subtle blue undertones to complement your dress, stands with regal poise before you, their tailcoat embellished with ornate golden clasps and perfectly tailored dress pants. Overlooking his guests. He exudes an ethereal charm, radiating a sense of divinity , his very being demanding reverence and awe from all who have the privilege to lay eyes on him.

Observing your approach, he instinctively takes two steps down and extends his hand towards you. The touch of his hand sends a warm sensation through your palm as he tenderly interlocks your fingers and gently draws you towards him, a playful smile on his lips. "Beautiful as always, my treasure." The Ascendant croons.

Your body tenses up as you catch sight of the two thrones behind him, trying to resist the urge to shudder.

"All silence for the Godking's address!" A thunderous voice demands, echoing with power and authority, resonating through the grand hall. The sheer force of it makes your heart skip a beat, but you steel yourself, resisting the temptation to flinch or recoil.

All eyes obediently fixate on the Ascendant as commanded, but yours cannot help but wander from face to face. Equally curious about you as servants were in the halls. Still, this is your first time being exposed to others outside of the palace staff and Ascendant, and despite feeling petrified by the sudden spotlight, you refuse to lose sight of what truly matters. Gathering and understanding what you can of this nightmarish realm you're trapped in.

First you note the tables spread throughout the grand hall with glasses, plates, pitchers, and kegs. The next thing she noticed were the enormous, intricately designed doors, swung open wide to reveal the sprawling entrance hall of the palace.

"Don't worry," he reassures, his voice resonating with authority, the rich aroma of festival spiced wine and delicacies filling the air. "I only require a moment of your time before you can all return to indulging in the festivities." As he scanned the crowd, his eyes revealed his lack of concern, not bothering to commit any of the faces to memory.

"As you all are aware, this past century has proven trying on us. The loss of our cherished, beloved queen was felt all across the sword coast." Your feet itch to run, bolt down the steps, off the dais, through the doors and into the streets. Anywhere has to be better than here. "As you all are aware, this past century has proven trying on us. The profound loss of our cherished, beloved queen was felt deeply across the sword coast." Your restless feet itch to run, to bolt down the grand steps, off the elevated dais, through the ornate doors and into the bustling streets. The anticipation of escape lingers, whispering that anywhere would be preferable to remaining in this stifling place.

The presence of Malacai and the armored guards at the bottom of the dais, reminiscent of royal armor, created a sense of foreboding, emphasizing the how you wouldn't get very far. Your escape would be halted before it even began. "Many have offered themselves before me. Believing they could hold themselves worthy of her throne. Of her place at my side. Yet they all fell embarrassingly short. Women, men, dragonborns, devils... None could compare to my Queen-Consort."

You don't want to be here. You don't want to hear this. Childish as it sounds, you want to plug your fingers in your ears. Or better yet, wake up from this nightmare.

"Nobility of Baldur's Gate! Assembly of highborn men and women, venerable lords, and esteemed ladies of the realm!" The spacious hall reverberates with the resounding voice of the Ascendant, their words echoing with a sense of divine authority. Your gaze wanders and lands upon a procession of musicians, their elegant garments mirroring the grandeur of a royal court. In their grips, they hold instruments of music—trumpets that gleam like polished gold, reflecting the splendor of the occasion, and others of fine make—poised to announce the forthcoming proclamation. Your expression transforms, an eyebrow raising in a silent display of inquiry. Sure, he mentioned this, but you can't recall him explicitly confirming it with you.

"On this, the dawn of The Festival of Gratitude," he proclaims with a voice imbued with the gravity of his high station, summoning from all present a silent veneration that arrested the air itself. It was incredible the power he seemingly held over the masses... It frightened you. "May you find yourselves gratified by the announcement and esteemed company of my betrothed! My queen-to-be, in her resplendent grace!"

His arm enveloped your waist, drawing you in snugly against his side as the trumpets sounded. The touch is electric, sending a shiver down your spine, as you sense the power of his command and the depth of his devotion in his gaze.

And like that, the moment you've been dreading is upon you. Officially and formally engaged to this pale imitation of the man you love. The enormous throne room reverberated with the sound of cheers and applause, as all eyes turned to study you - some filled with surprise, others with intrigue, and some a mix of both.

Their Queen-to-be.

The Ascendant flashes a short wave and a nod before he turns to you. "That wasn't so bad, was it?" he said as he pulled you into a tight embrace, both arms encircling your waist now. "It's unfortunate we couldn't find the time for a brief speech from you as well. But there will be ample opportunities for that later," he continued. Again, he's talking at you. Your input seemed neither expected nor desired.

Frankly, you may be too shocked to offer any. Every day you wake up and tell yourself this isn't your new normal. Mastering all these ridiculous, fanciful manners and etiquette, learning how to conduct yourself as a "sovereign" doesn't matter. Because you're not staying here. You're going to get out. Find your Astarion, bury yourself in his comforting arms, and never let go again.

But every day, it feels less like a dream and more like an inescapable reality. The idea of escape seemed impossibly far away, like a distant star in the night sky. Your star... Your Astarion. Just the memory alone was enough to make your chest ache, as if it had been crushed into countless pieces. Between last night... and your formal engagement to the Vampire Ascendant, the monster wearing Astarion's face,

The feeling of hopelessness seeped in, dampening your once fiery desire for freedom.

His lips meet yours in a slow and gentle kiss, exuding tenderness and a faint sense of longing as your lips reciprocate mechanically. Not to say his kisses aren't intoxicating, but he wasn't your Astarion, and he'd never be...

When he pulls away, his hand on your back guides to toward the back of the dais...

To the thrones.

Trying to resist, you dig your feet in, but he effortlessly and subtly directs you towards the one on your left.

With a delighted smile that betrays a hint of determination, his grasp on your hand is gentle yet stern, coaxing you downwards. You struggle against it, but he eventually overpowers your resistance, and he manages to firmly seat you on the wretched thing that's haunted your nightmares. Reluctantly, you find yourself settled onto the grandiose throne, the velvet cushion enveloping you.

You feel your ankle snap to the base of the extravagant seat, a sickening sensation that you've grown accustomed to. Seated on the throne that has given you sleepless nights, he gazes at you with admiration. His smile hasn't left his face once. A contented grin played on his lips, evidence of his satisfaction with how well his plans for you were progressing.

The Ascendant lets out a soft, satisfied sigh as he settles onto his grand throne, the rich velvet cushions embracing his body. Beside you, the throne's extravagant carvings mesmerize your eyes with their intricate details, a testament to the majesty of his power. His strong arms rest leisurely on the throne's armrests, providing a sense of power and dominance. As he reaches out and gently clasps his hand around yours, you feel a warmth spreading through your fingertips, a tender connection formed. His thumb caresses the back of your hand, creating a delicate, soothing sensation that tingles across your skin.

And then you sit there. Together on a pair of overly fancy golden and velvet seats. Watching everyone else have some semblance of fun without you. A few guests cast their gaze up toward the two of you. The Ascendant and you find a sort of comfortable silence, observing the goings on of this festival together. You take note that his thumb finds interest with your ring finger, tracing it with his own digits. "Perhaps we can treat ourselves to this foolishness tomorrow, if you'd like," he suggests, his words laced with thoughtfulness, though he avoids meeting your eyes.

You struggle in vain to free your foot, feeling the frustration building with each futile attempt. Chained to the throne through invisible magic. "Behave yourself or we won't go at all." The Ascendant scolds quietly, indicating he saw your fruitless attempt to escape. You release a reluctant groan and recline in your seat, your free hand restlessly twiddling in your lap.

With little else to do, you try to study the variety of faces in the crowded throne room. Maybe you'll ask the Ascendant for a book if he's going to confine you to this stupid, overdone chair. The bustling crowd fades into the background as your heart races upon seeing those familiar crimson eyes. Do you dare trust yourself? Are you already teetering on the edge of madness, consumed by desperation? Would you even want him to see you like this? After what happened last night...?

The more you observe, the more you find yourself accepting the penetrating gaze of those eyes and the man behind them.

Gods above... Your Astarion...

-ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈--ˋˏ’✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈-

A/N: We're probably jumping back to him next chapter, guys. It's actually been a kinda long time In-Story since we've seen him and Aric.

Once again, I thank everyone for their support and enjoyment of this little adventure of ours and I can't wait to share the rest with you. It's mindblowing to me and I'm still not over it.

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aris-ink · 1 year

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some horror smut with seokjin pls 😭 ppl barely ever write about him

tysm to my 🐋 angel for providing inspiration and supporting me... thank you to @baalsgurl1913 for reading through this and guiding me with her love. and thank you to @yoongsisbae for helping me choose the right direction <3 I am... so sorry for what I am subjecting y'all to lmao

pairing: jin x reader

genre: romance, ghost!au

warnings: mentions of blood and violence (not towards the reader), multiple deaths (+ major character death), implied murder, cheating (not by jin), supernatural elements (hauntings, afterlife), mentions of medication, manipulation and obsession, implied mental and physical torture (agsffhsgsh rip minho), angst, rough sex, dirty talk, praise, mentions of spanking, choking, creampie

"Does it help?"

So cold. His hand felt so cold as it brushed through your hair.

"Does it help you move on? To feel like you've buried me?"

Unable to turn around and look at him - or whatever that thing was - you pulled your knees up to your chest and hid your face in them.

"I did," you whispered. To convince him or yourself, you weren't sure. "I did bury you."

Like a little girl, you gently rocked yourself back and forth on your bed, the chill of the dark room so severe it was making your fingers numb.

"Did you?" He hummed into your ear. "I'm right here."

You could barely hold yourself together, your heart sinking so low you feared he could snatch it from under the ground and keep it there with him forever to rot.

"I promised I'd never leave you, didn't I?"

Despite the fear weighing on your chest, your eyes opened slowly. You woke up in the warmth of your sheets, your vision blurry with tears. Seeking comfort, or at least a confirmation you weren't alone, you turned towards your boyfriend and pressed yourself into his back. You tried to swallow down the lump in your throat, the grief and the guilt of trying to move on. It didn't help. The bitter mixture only seemed to upset your stomach. With a sigh, you sat up and blinked, wiping at your eyes. Outside the window dusk was slowly fading. You reached for your phone, then planted your feet on the wooden floor.

6 am. Looked like you'd have an early start.

Grief was... loud. It demanded to be heard. He was sure even the dead could not rest in peace with how you tossed and whimpered in your sleep. He certainly couldn't. But the bastard lying beside you remained oblivious to your suffering. Pathetic, really. Jin couldn't believe this was the man you chose to replace him with. The man who got to see your pretty smile, go to sleep and wake up by your side - when he didn't deserve any of it at all.

He would have felt that way about anyone who went near you, of course, but there was no denying the fact that he held a special kind of contempt for Minho. All those late nights out, the perfume he smelled of when he came home. Surely you weren't that blind? Surely you could see that he wasn't faithful? Always drifting off somewhere, even as you spoke to him. Jin wished he could grab him and break every bone in his body, slowly, make him pay for every sin he's ever committed. The sin of being with you, touching you. The sin of hurting you.

But all he could do was kneel by your bed and run his fingertips down your cheek. He tried to catch the tears that fell, wipe them away like he used to when he was alive. It didn't do much besides inducing a little shiver, making you pull the blankets tighter around your body.

A few months have passed since the car accident, yet he continued to appear in your dreams. It felt like any attempts you made at trying to find peace were being torn apart by his shadow, leaving you lethargic and confused... making you pay less attention to your new relationship. During the day, you questioned your sanity and wondered if you should see a doctor.

During the nights, however, in that cold, little dreamland of yours he haunted, you tried to find the answers to questions you wouldn't dare to ask out loud.

"Why are you still here?"

You still couldn't face him, but you felt his presence, a ghostly touch travelling down your sides. The nightmares themselves were distressing enough, but there was something else gnawing at you, a possibility that made you ache.

"Are you stuck? Is there no light there?"

You could feel Jin's arms wrapping around you from behind. Such a chilly, foreign experience, disturbing you in ways you couldn't even understand; everything seemed too realistic.

"There is," he murmured, his voice sounding amused. "And I went right into it."

You swallowed, staring at the wall ahead of you.

"Oh."

You couldn't tell if you felt relieved or disappointed. You chewed on your bottom lip.

"So, you're not real then," you whispered, as if to yourself. "Just my imagination."

"Oh no," Jin protested. "I'm very real, baby."

Your brows furrowed, your heart skipping a beat. You haven't heard him call you that in so long it made you want to curl yourself up to him. Real or not.

"But you said you followed the light."

"Mm, that I did," his lips grazed your shoulder, a hint of ice with velvet, followed by a soft whisper. "You're my light."

A dam inside you cracked, the turbulent waters behind it about to shatter it altogether, along with your willpower and common sense. You missed him so much. You wished you could hide in his arms and stay like that forever, even if they felt so cold. You'd give up the sun and live in eternal winter if it meant that things could go back to the way they were.

But they couldn't. And that wouldn't be living at all.

"Ah, don't forget your pills."

You smiled at Minho and grabbed the small, plastic bottle from him. It's been only two weeks since you saw a psychiatrist, but the quality of your life has improved immensely.

And also, it didn't.

While you no longer feared going to bed, closing your eyes was still a struggle. You didn't need to dream to see Jin's face behind your eyelids.

There was an uncomfortable, odd sense of guilt stirring inside you, like you've done something wrong. Like you've shut him out and left him all alone there in the void. And yet that was all the more reason for you to keep taking your medication and trying to move on. Jin was gone; there was no changing that. Sticking to rationality made it easier for you to ignore these feelings, to tell yourself that you didn't feel unusually cold when you entered your bedroom.

You glanced up at Minho when he got up from the table, grabbing his coat.

"Are you going somewhere?"

He smiled at you as he worked on fixing his tie.

"Just work stuff."

You put down your fork, your appetite suddenly gone. Work stuff, at nine pm. On a Saturday night. Again.

"Don't wait up, honey."

You didn't have the mental strength to deal with this and your inner turmoil. Instead of speaking up, you tried to force a smile when he bent down to press his lips to yours. An inch separated you, your eyes fluttering shut.

And then - a sudden crash that made you jump in your seat.

Frowning, Minho straightened up, looking behind you.

"What the hell?"

Your heart thudded in your ears. The fright that pulsed through you spread all the way to your fingertips, making your hands feel weak. You turned your head towards the source of the sound, blood draining from your face.

The frame that held the first picture you took with Jin was lying on the floor, shattered, glass broken into pieces. You hid it inside the cabinet right above the spot, yet now it was wide open, gaping.

Even though your knees felt like cotton, you stood up and rushed towards it automatically. You collapsed onto the floor, barely registering Minho calling out your name. With trembling fingers, you began to pick up the pieces in a hurry, not even fazed when you felt two warm hands curling around your arms.

"Are you crazy?" Minho snapped, pulling you away from the mess.

You struggled out of his grasp, your elbow knocking into his chest roughly. You scrambled back to the broken frame, blinking through the tears. It was so hard to see.

"It's- it's broken," you stammered. "Broken. I need to clean it up."

Minho crouched down next to you, gripping your wrists.

"You're hurting yourself!" He hissed. "Look."

He shook both of your hands. Dazed, you glanced down, brows scrunching when you noted the blood dripping from your fingers.

"But-"

Minho stared at you, a flash of uncertainty in his eyes, like for the first time he was really seeing you. Like for the first time something akin to guilt stirred in his stomach. Keeping your wrists in a tight grip, he wrapped an arm around your waist, gently pulling you up with him.

"Come on, honey. I''ll clean it up in a sec. Hold on."

He guided you to sit back down on your chair. You could still feel your heart ramming against your chest, frighteningly heavy with the weight of stress. Minho left your side to step up to the cabinets, rummaging through them in search of a first aid kit.

Numbly, you observed him uncap a bottle of antiseptic. Only when it came into contact with your skin did you feel the sting of the cuts, a sizzling sensation that made your fingers twitch. He bandaged them up one by one, seven in total, wincing as he cleaned up the blood.

Silently, as he promised, he went to clean up the mess on the floor as well, ensuring to sweep the area thoroughly. With a brief glance at the picture, then back at you, he set it down on the counter carefully. You felt like you were outside of your body, barely there, unable to speak up and tell him to not throw the picture away. He seemed to know that himself, though.

He picked up your bottle of sleeping pills and placed it on the table beside you.

"I'm late now, but I still have to go. Get some rest okay? You can text me if you feel unwell."

You blinked up at him, unsure if you were grateful to be left alone now or if you wanted to beg him not to walk out the door. Still, you couldn't even nod when he leaned down to kiss your forehead. With your hands on your knees, you listened to him leave and lock the door.

Your eyes flickered from the counter where the picture was, then to your pills. Unable to help yourself, you left the bottle behind and went straight to bed. Waiting for the adrenaline to flow off you and the exhaustion to do its job. You couldn't force yourself to swallow the medication tonight, an uneasy feeling intensifying in your chest.

This just wouldn't do.

How much more could he take? He stood by your bed and watched your eyes fall closed, fuming. He caught your attention, and that fucker's too, but Minho was probably too stupid to think much of what happened. Even if a frame did fly out of your kitchen cabinet on its own.

The two weeks he spent without being able to contact you were agony. Time didn't seem to exist on the other side. For the living - for you - it flowed like a river. For Jin it was a bottomless ocean and he felt like he was drowning without you. He couldn't stand the fact that you just tried to toss him away and move on with your life as if he ceased to exist. It was clear you still loved him. Why were you so unwilling to believe that he was right by your side? Did you really think something as trivial as death would ever take him away from you?

All the anger inside of him simmered, so powerful it felt like an explosion when he watched you sit in the kitchen with that pathetic excuse of a human being.

Until it overflowed.

He was almost as surprised as you were when the cabinet flew open. He hasn't been able to touch anything on this side of life.

Now, as he stood over your bed, he contemplated what he could do with that newfound power. There were so many possibilities.

With a hum, he brushed your cheek softly. Decisions, decisions.

This dream was different from the others. You were still in your bed, but this time Jin didn't sit behind you. You could see his silhouette in the corner of your room, blending in with the shadows. You shivered, relief settling over you for some reason, despite how disturbing the atmosphere felt. At least he was there.

You didn't know what to say. You had a feeling he was angry at you for leaving him behind. Why else would he stand so far away?

"Missed me, baby?"

His voice sounded soft. You hid your face in your hands, confused, unable to tell if the spectre before you was a figment of your imagination, a cry from the grief you tried to escape, or something more sinister. Something more real.

But whatever it was, it was still Jin, in some way. Wasn't it?

When you heard light footsteps approaching your bed, you stiffened, still lacking the courage to look up. For so many reasons. Would he look dead? Would he look normal? Either way seeing him again would break your heart.

You felt him kneel down on the creaky floorboards, slowly taking your hand in his. A chill spread through you, your eyes shut tightly.

"What have you done?" He whispered, pressing a kiss to each bandaged finger. A feather light touch.

"No more suffering, baby. Promise me... Just let go. I'm right here."

The next night you drifted off in your armchair for what seemed like a few minutes. You awoke with a sigh, getting up to stretch in the dark and make your way towards your bedroom.

Minho must have still been out somewhere. You tried to ignore that thought.

Strong arms wrapped around you, halting your steps. You froze, the soothing warmth and smell of a cologne that was so familiar to you making your heart thud. You whirled around in shock, for the first time letting yourself look at him. Your hands grasped at his shoulders. He felt so much warmer than usually. Dark, soft hair framing his handsome face, his eyes burning into yours. Wearing the same leather jacket you've seen him in on your last day together.

Was this another dream? It had to be.

"Baby," he muttered lowly, his hands coming to rest on your waist.

The sudden proximity after such a long time of being apart made your stomach swirl. It was strange how solid his hold was on you.

He took a moment to stare into your eyes, the pretty eyes he missed so much, glistening and bright. You were so confused, your chest constricting with pain and love all at once. You opened your mouth to speak, but words failed you. This had to be a dream, right? But why did he feel this warm? His eyes seemed so dark. So much darker than they ever were before. His lips knocked into yours, not allowing you to voice your perplexity and your doubts, or focus on your thoughts at all.

Such hunger. He didn't think the dead could feel hunger, or much of anything, but he was wrong. His soul endured starvation in this ruthless void, starvation for your love, your touch, you. It turned into a dark desperation that dripped and dripped onto you like fire, from his tongue brushing your lower lip, from the fingertips dancing across your ribs.

He groaned, a low, raspy sound that made your thighs clench.

Not for long.

He pried them apart and settled himself between them, his lips pressing soft, wet kisses into your neck.

"Fuck," he sighed, fumbling with the zipper of your jeans, his hands shaking. "I missed you."

You wanted to let him push you into the nearest wall so willingly, you would have any other time. But this still felt so odd. So real.

For a moment, you lost your breath, and the only thing you could focus on was the way he slid your jeans halfway down your thighs, not even bothered to undress you or himself properly.

"Missed you," he repeated in a whisper.

When you heard him unbuckling his belt your pussy clenched around nothing, leaking through your panties. There was a soft grunt as his trousers pooled around his ankles, one hand hooking your leg around his waist.

"Missed you too," you gasped, your head tilting back when you felt a sharp tug and heard the cotton material of your underwear being ripped in half.

"I know, baby."

The tip of his cock brushed through your slick folds, the slight pressure of the hard, thick length causing a shiver to erupt down your spine. Jin hissed, squeezing your thighs as he spread you open.

"Missed me here too?"

He emphasized the question with a teasing thrust, rubbing against you. Very fleetingly, the thought of Minho tickled the back of your mind, like a butterfly. You weren't a cheater. But... this wasn't real, was it? Even if it was, you weren't sure if you were able to overcome the shock of it, the need and the yearning burning inside you.

As if sensing your hesitation, Jin rolled his hips, entering you harshly and knocking all air out of your lungs. You felt so full of him, pulsing hotly around his cock.

"Don't think about him," he seethed. "Don't think about anything. Only me."

He didn't make that task very difficult. All your thoughts turned to ashes when he gripped your throat with his hand and started to fuck you, slamming you into the wall behind you with every aggressive snap of his hips. Like he wanted to take all of his frustration and love out on your body, make you suffer from pleasure.

"You're only mine," he groaned into your ear. "Your heart is mine. This pussy is mine. I should beat your ass raw for fucking forgetting that."

Your knees quivered, a whine tearing out of your throat. He tightened his hand around it, cutting the sound off.

"Say you're sorry."

You clenched around him. Somehow, the aggression only made your head spin more, because if he didn't feel real before, he definitely did now.

"Say you're sorry," he demanded sternly, "you little fucking brat, s-shit."

"Sorry!" You breathed, barely audible with how hard he was choking you, your eyes stinging and pussy fluttering. "Sorry."

Jin grunted and let go of your neck, burying his hand in your hair instead. You felt lightheaded, barely able to catch the air he allowed back into your lungs, panting with how close you were.

"Good girl," he whispered, strained, a moan following the praise. "Fuck, missed you so much, not g-gonna last, shit-"

You weren't going to, either, but he busied himself with pulling on your hair and slipping his other hand in between you. He pressed his finger into your clit to rub it roughly, causing even more slick to flow out of you, making his thrusts sloppier.

"So wet. So pretty. I love you so much, ah, fuck."

His breathing sounded just as harsh as his thrusts in your ear, growing desperate, louder than your own cries.

"Haven't been fucked how you deserve to be in so long, my love," he mumbled, plump lips brushing against your skin. "Come for me, please. Come on, doll. Need to feel you," he groaned. "Shit! Come on. I'll fill you up so, so good."

You couldn't help the sudden, violent snap in your stomach that made you shake and cream his cock. Jin threw his head back, revealing his attractive, tanned neck, his adam's apple bobbing. His groans were carnal, filthy, his cock twitching inside of you, filling you up with a rush of his cum. If possible, you felt even fuller, your chest glowing and your cunt sticky from his orgasm. With a hiss, he rested his forehead on your shoulder, his embrace tighter around you, keeping your knees from giving out.

You floated in his arms, barely registering the fact that he picked you up and carried you towards the bed you used to share, his own knees feeling weak.

So he was able touch you. So he was able to love you. He watched you fall asleep, hope blooming in his chest only to wither away into disappointment. So what? In the end, what did that matter? You couldn't have a life together, grow old, have children. He would never be able to take you out to an expensive restaurant or buy you a gift, and who knew how long this would last? Could he only touch you when he was angry, overwhelmed, empty?

This just wouldn't do.

It took a mere few days for the opportunity to arise.

It was so hard to tell what was happening around you. Your eyes blinked open to a bright light blinding you. You had no idea where you were. Was this another dream, again? You squinted, trying to cover your face. The light felt warm and safe, calling to you, like it wanted to pull you into its pearly embrace.

Instead, a darker embrace enveloped you.

"Don't go," a sweet murmur. "Not yet, baby. Stay with me."

You lifted your eyes towards the light, still squinting, although it seemed to be fading in its intensity little by little. For some reason you felt like you were running out of time.

Something was wrong.

"Stay with me," Jin repeated quietly. "You know there is no me without you. Don't go where I can't follow."

You hesitated. Weren't you on your way to see your mother with Minho? An image flashed through your head, leather seats and the low hum of music on the radio.

No, you were definitely in a car. So where the hell were you now? The last thing you remembered was the same bright light that was dimming in front of you now. You turned your head to the side, coming face to face with Jin.

The puzzle pieces clicked into place and you looked towards the enchanting source of illumination again. It was dwindling, though its call still felt just as enticing and loud, urging you to follow.

You turned your head back towards Jin.

"Did we... crash? Am I dead?"

A hint of sorrow glimmered in his eyes. He nodded meekly, his arms tightening around you, strong and secure.

"Stay with me," he pleaded, leaning in, his lips a breath away from yours. "I'll take care of you," he murmured.

His hand slid down your side, moving to your hip. Your breath caught in your throat.

"But... but-"

You tried to take a peek at the light in front of you, but he lifted his hand and placed it on your cheek, unwilling to let you look away from him.

Something felt so wrong; like your only chance for real, heavenly peace was slipping through your fingers. Like this wasn't where you were supposed to be, even if you ached to be with him.

"Jin..."

He shushed you, pressing a warm, affectionate kiss into your lips, his thumb brushing away your tears.

"We'll be together. Forever. I won't let you go again."

You sniffled, the space around you growing dark as night, his lips still inches from yours when he spoke again.

"You're okay, baby. I promise."

His grip on your face softened. You nodded, wiping at your eyes. He smiled at you, something you haven't seen in so long. It made your heart flip, for so many reasons.

"Good girl," he praised, stroking the top of your head affectionately. He ignored the trembling of your body, only pressing you closer to himself, trying to soothe your anxiety and pain away.

Even if he was the one who caused it.

He placed a gentle kiss on the shell of your ear. You promised to always be his.

Promises were made to be kept.

In a small, well lit room, Minho sat in a bed, eyeing the two figures in white lab coats standing before him suspiciously.

"I don't want to talk to you," he grumbled. "You're just here to treat me like one of your crazy patients."

The tall, dark haired man with glasses took a seat in the chair at the foot of the bed, crossing his legs.

"I don't consider any of my patients crazy," he answered calmly. "It's important to remain open minded and find a solution if a problem arises. I'm only here to listen and help you feel safe. I promise."

Minho narrowed his eyes, his gaze flicking from the elderly nurse who still stood by his side to the doctor.

The psychiatrist gave him a kind, dimpled smile.

"My name is Kim Namjoon. How about we start with that?"

"I don't care about your name," Minho huffed. "You have no idea what happened to me. You would never believe it either."

A pen clicked, its tip pressing into a notebook resting on the man's lap.

"Why don't you try me?" He coaxed gently. "Let's start at the beginning. As you're aware, the security footage shows your car swerving violently to the right. The doctor said you were trying to avoid hitting someone."

"I- I was."

Namjoon raised his eyebrows.

"But the roads were empty."

Minho flushed.

"Your tests also came back negative for any signs of drugs or alcohol in your system," Namjoon continued. "Have you been under a lot of stress lately?"

"I wasn't hallucinating because I was stressed," Minho snapped. "I saw someone!"

"Who did you see?"

Heaving a sigh, Minho glanced up at the nurse, who gave him an encouraging smile, as if to say: it's okay. He fiddled with the cool sheets covering him.

"My girlfriend's ex. He... died seven months ago."

"Ah," Namjoon said softly, steering his focus onto you, as if the revelation of seeing a ghost didn't faze him. "I'm sorry for your loss, Minho."

Another sigh, heavier, glassy eyes burning into the doctor helplessly.

"It was his fault!" Minho stressed. "He killed her and now he's going to kill me."

After a moment of soft scratching of pen against paper, Namjoon leaned forward, tilting his head to the side.

"What makes you think that?"

Minho hesitated.

"I... saw him in the hospital room as well. It was like a dream," he sniffed. "But I couldn't move."

Namjoon hummed, waiting.

"...He... said something to me."

Straightening up, Namjoon grabbed his pen again and pressed it into the white page.

"What was it?"

Minho pursed his lips, sighed once more. Cringed at his own words.

"He... he said," he gulped, "that- that I'm already ugly but he's going to fuck me up so bad my own mother won't recognize me."

Silence.

The nurse coughed into her hand.

Namjoon just hummed again, trying to hold back, trying so hard not to laugh, but a snort escaped him anyway, his lips curling into a smile while he wrote the words down.

"Jin really enjoyed fucking with you, huh?"

Minho frowned, his face flooding with heat, his hands curling into fists.

"Do you think this is funny?! How dare you sit here and-" he paused abruptly, the rest of his outburst forming into a big knot in his throat.

How did the psychiatrist know Jin's name?

Namjoon set his notebook and pen down, looking up at Minho.

"Don't worry," he murmured. "I promise he's not going to hurt you."

Minho leaned back into the bedframe, trying to sink into it as the man stood up. His aura did not seem so gentle anymore, but rather intimidating as he stalked over to him, disturbingly so.

His head momentarily snapped up to the nurse. She gave him a grin so crooked and strange it made his heart sink.

"Where the hell am I?" He whispered. "I thought this was a mental hospital."

"It was," Namjoon nodded, taking a seat beside him. "Many years ago."

As soon as he was closer, Minho froze, unable to move. A horrible thought occurred to him.

"Did I die?"

Namjoon tsked.

"Of course not. How would that be any fun?"

His hand reached out towards Minho, unusually cold knuckles brushing his cheek, making him flinch.

"I wouldn't be able to hurt you much if we were both dead, would I?"

The room seemed to darken somehow, its shape distorting with dim, sickly green flashes and black shadows. The logical part of him wanted to ask if he was drugged, but deep down, he knew the truth was much worse. His hands trembled violently, a cold, dark feeling spreading through his veins, rendering him weak. He was starting to grow dizzy.

"What did I do to deserve this?" He mumbled hoarsely through dry, shaking lips.

Namjoon bent over to the chair and grabbed his notebook, flipping through the pages. His image was becoming blurry, his voice an odd echo.

"Oh, let me see. Jin noted it all down here."

He settled on a random page.

"You're a liar," he listed, "you always forget your mum's birthday... Oh my, you're a republican as well."

Minho blinked, trying to keep himself afloat, too terrified of what he would wake up to if he fainted.

Namjoon's dark, amused eyes turned towards him, his deep voice eerily calm.

"What do you think you did wrong? Hm? You took his girlfriend, and then you cheated on her as well. Repeatedly. That's not nice, Minho."

He patted his shoulder.

"Sleep well, my friend. I've been so very bored, and I want to have fun with you. I'll see you when you wake up."

Minho shook his head, like he could protest against the workings of his own body, of what was happening around him. But there was only so much distress his pounding heart could handle before it gave out altogether. White as a sheet, his eyes rolling to the back of his head, he fainted.

The last thing he saw before the darkness took him into her arms, like a mother cradling her child, was Namjoon's chilly smile.

Reported missing two days after the accident, his case remained unsolved.

💌 taglist: @wonyuknow @imnotlauriane @bucketofhiros @baalsgurl1913 @silv3rswirls @osakis-gf @iceprincessviviane

#jin x reader #yandere bts #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts reactions #SORRY LMAO

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