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mydearestdaryl · 1 day

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𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲 ‧₊˚ ✧

Summary: Daryl realizes he is in love with you (fluff mostly). Warnings: TWD violence, blood & gore, character deaths, explicit language. Pairing: Daryl Dixon x reader. Setting: Prison. A/N: Not thoroughly proofread, and English is not my first language, so please point out any mistakes if you find any! Love you, thank you for reading.

You were pretty. So pretty to his eyes and to the eyes of anyone else with an ounce of common sense and the ability to see, he was sure.

He believed you were everything he was not. At first, he envied it a little, but now he admires it.

You were spring and sunshine. The flowers when they're in full bloom. You were a breath of fresh air. You were art. You were a masterpiece made by an artist who was in love. You were a poem written as the vows of a groom deeply enamored. You were a perfect first kiss. You were love.

Not only was your face pretty but your heart and mind were too. You were smart and compassionate and kind. A real-life angel, as many would say. Those wings that decorated his vest would suit you a lot more than him.

He had never felt this way before for anyone, but he figured most people probably felt like this for you as well, because who wouldn't. He firmly believed it was a natural reaction to your pretty and kind self. Human nature.

He could stare at you for hours. Listen to you for hours. And if only he could touch you… no, what was he thinking?

Now Daryl watched as you folded the laundry, chatting with Maggie, who you were sharing this chore with. He was supposed to be killing the walkers at the fence with Carol, who was looking at him with a knowing smirk while she actually did the task, which he hadn't noticed from the trance he was currently in.

He only snapped out of it when he heard Carol giggle next to him.

"Wha'?" he squinted, returning to the task as if nothing happened.

She full-on chuckled at his blindness, poking one last walker through the fence before they walked back to the cell block. "You're so in love," she teased him, shaking her head before grabbing her rag from her pocket to dry the sweat on her forehead.

His frown turned into a scowl, but behind it she found genuine confusion. He spared a quick glance in your direction, watching as you tried to apologize between bright laughter while Maggie scolded you; the folded laundry on the floor now. It made the corners of his mouth twitch, a smile threatening to appear, but he managed to avoid it.

His eyes returned to Carol's, who had witnessed the scene and looked at him again like she knew. He scoffed, a hand flying up shortly in a dismissive gesture. "Yer crazy," he huffed, making her laugh as she followed him.

The sun was setting, and everybody now sat on the table or steps of the kitchen while enjoying a hearty stew made by Beth and Hershel. Rick ate while holding Judith as you played with her, and Daryl found himself staring again. He just couldn't stop.

As if sensing his eyes, yours made contact with him, and he froze, almost choking on the piece of carrot he was swallowing, making him cough. You made him feel so dumb.

Next thing he knew Carol was handing him a glass of water. "Can't have you die choking on veggies in a world full of walkers," she joked as she sat next to him. "Especially not before tomorrow, right?" the woman added, wiggling her brows teasingly.

His eyebrows met. "Tomorrow?" he asked breathlessly after drinking the whole glass of water at once, drying his mouth with the back of his hand. She nodded. Oh! "Ah, yeah, right, tomorrow," he said casually, as if it wasn't a big deal. But truly, he was nervous as hell.

Tomorrow you'd be going with Daryl to hunt for the first time in months and for whatever reason it made him feel floaty and tense at the same time.

"(Y/NNNN), I can't find the last word, and neither can Glenn," Carl complained, plopping down next to you with the crossbow book you gifted him in his hands, "I swear it doesn't exist," the pre-teen said, looking genuinely exasperated, making you laugh. Oh, that laugh. So airy and clear. It made your pretty eyes shine. He liked it when they shined, but not because of tears.

You were pretty when crying too, but only when the crying was because you were happy. He hated when you cried out of pain or sadness; it made his heart all sad and heavy too.

A loud clear of throat snapped him out of his trance again. Annoyed to stop looking at you, he looked up, and he found Hershel. The same smile as Carol was wide on his face. "Sorry to interrupt," he said.

For how long did he stare? Because Carol was now picking up the dirty dishes with Rick's help. "These got mixed with my clothes," the vet explained, handing the hunter a couple of folded button-ups. Daryl nodded gratefully and was about to get up and leave when Hershel sat next to him on the steps, a hand on the hunter's shoulder.

"You know..." the older man started, his gaze on you as you laughed with Carl and Glenn, "this world offers few but precious joys these days. When we find someone who makes life a little brighter, who eases our burden even a small bit, that's a gift we'd be fools not to embrace."

Daryl glanced up to look at Hershel, his eyes pleading for answers underneath uncertainty. Hershel continued, "Love gives us purpose to keep fighting. It soothes our souls when times are darkest. Don't be afraid to open your heart, son. Life is too short and brutal not to seize happiness where you find it."

Chewing on his bottom lip, Daryl nodded, his eyes on you until you waved at Carol, Hershel, and him, wishing everybody goodnight, Carl did the same when you silently reprimanded him for not doing so.

"I love 'er?" Daryl asked, but it sounded more like a confession. Hershel laughed before he slowly got up from his seat.

"That's a question only you have the answer to, son. Goodnight," with a pat on Daryl's shoulder, the man made his way to his cell.

That night Daryl stayed up for hours deciphering his own feelings. It scared him to be in love with you because any outcome could be negative. You either felt the same and it would make him feel worse if something ever happened to you; he'd have more to lose. Or, you didn't feel the same and he'd be rejected, which would make him feel like shit.

But, like Hershel said, happiness would be worth a shot, especially in this world, where it was rare to come by. So with a new determination, he allowed sleep to take him, not noticing the smile on his face as he fell asleep.

The next morning he woke up before the sun, as usual. Throwing on yesterday's jeans after figuring they were clean enough, and a clean button-up with cut-off sleeves, he headed to the kitchen, pleasantly surprised to find you there already.

You were making coffee and smiled when you saw him approaching. Butterflies.

"Hi, Dar," your soft voice greeted him as you handed him a cup of coffee. The coffee was a little old, but it felt like a luxury nowadays. He nodded in response and as a thank you for the coffee. "Oh, look, I washed this one yesterday!" you mentioned, fixing the collar of his shirt quickly.

"'S getting dirty again, sorry 'bout that," he added, finishing his drink and placing it on the counter, attempting to avoid eye contact. He heard you saying something like 'It's okay' while getting your bow and arrows. Once both were ready, you headed out, saying goodbye to Glenn and Maggie who were on watch.

The walk to the woods was silent, but not uncomfortable, he noticed you were still a little sleepy, but he knew once you were awake enough, getting you to quiet down would be the issue. Not that he minded to hear you talk, but it wasn't ideal for hunting.

As you crept through the woods, Daryl seemed lost in thought. When he gestured ahead to a deer trail, you noticed his hands were uncharacteristically unsteady. "Ya wanna try leadin'?" he asked, surprising you. You started forward carefully and were doing pretty good. His "good," and hums of agreement conforming it.

Suddenly Daryl's hand closed around your wrist, stopping you.

"Wait. I...there's somthin' I gotta say," For what felt like the first time today, he looked into your eyes, his icy blue eyes looking particularly warm. "Been thinkin'. Thinking 'bout how...when we're together, the bad shit disappears, even just for a while."

Your heart swelled at this rare show of vulnerability. Still he struggled to voice deeper feelings. Your hand found his own and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Daryl's throat bobbed in a swallow. "What I'm tryin' to say is...you're important to me. More than most. An' I was wonderin'... I... If," he sighed, why was this so fucking difficult?

Looking away, he chewed on his bottom lip, but you stopped him, grabbing his hand and placing it on your chest where he could feel your heart. "I'm nervous too," your voice was quiet, but it grounded him, "'cause I feel the same way, Daryl."

His eyes bounced between your lips and your eyes, "ya do?" you nodded and hummed.

"I'm sorry I didn't say anything before, but I... I don't know, I get a little shy around you," you shrugged, taking a deep breath.

His eyes widened subtly, looking like you just told him something absolutely insane. It made you giggle. "Why?"

"Because you're handsome and strong and smart and perfect and I really like you!" your hands gently cupped his cheeks, tilting your head to the side a little, adoring eyes tracing his features. "I love you."

That was the confirmation he needed to lean forward, trapping your lips with his in a slow kiss, almost hesitant. Your hand found the back of his head, pulling him closer. His lips molded perfectly against yours, and his strong hands felt perfect as they found your waist, his thumbs rubbing circles on your clothed skin.

It felt like fireworks inside you.

He pulled you even closer, his tongue seeking entrance to your mouth which you gladly allowed. The taste of him almost made you melt. You wished you could tattoo the sensation of his kiss into your brain and remember it forever.

Only because of the lack of air did you pull away, breathing heavily and with dilated pupils. "I love ya too, sunshine," he confessed, smiling in a way you hadn't ever seen before. So perfect.

Taglist: @ledgeria16

#daryl dixon #daryl x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd daryl dixon #daryl dixon imagine #daryl dixon headcanons #twd fanfiction #twd

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euphoriaslux · 1 day

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we can’t be friends

summary: you hate vincent. vincent hates you. and yet somehow you end up in his bedroom.

word count: 4262( i… am so sorry.)

warnings: fem reader, smut(f oral receiving) vincent being a meanie, drinking and smoking, disrespect of the french justice system (désolé) me making head canons about vincent’s family life, some mischaracterization of sandra (ily sandra huller)

a/n: folks i was locked in when i was writing this, can you tell because it’s autocapitalized? i was Serious! this was supposed to be like a thousand words and ended up being 4k… i apologize i have to spread my illness (being my obsession with swann). i had SO much fun writing this i hope yall enjoy, all the reblogs on my first post make me all warm and fuzzy. drop some requests if you’d like, and im going to make a masterpost of all the fictional characters im obsessed with bc i’m chronically online. i’ve reread this like a million times so if there are any spelling errors i simply do not see. enjoy!!! <3

You cannot fucking believe you’re going to be late to trial.

Well, actually, you can believe it. Somehow, during the two hours of sleep you got last night, you managed to unplug both your alarm clock and your phone charger, leaving you to blissfully sleep through the multiple alarms you had set the night before. It was only when your cat sprawled across your face, her paws tickling your eyelashes as she eagerly awaited her breakfast, that your body decided to wake you up. An hour after you were supposed to.

Your methodically planned out morning routine for the indictment today was quickly replaced by you sprinting around your apartment muttering curse words under your breath and trying not to trip over the copious amounts of documents on your floor. You nearly cried when your tangled hair would not cooperate with you, but somehow managed to make yourself look halfway presentable. You didn’t have the time to be stressed today, especially because of the attention you know this case is going to get.

And because you knew you were going to see him.

After driving like a bat out of hell in the Parisian rain, violating multiple traffic laws, you somehow make it to the courthouse only one minute late. Jogging up the steps, you push the door open and yell out apologies to the bewildered lawyers and judges in the courthouse as you sprint against the browned hardwood floor, your briefcase thumping against your side in tandem with your heartbeat. Your eyes scan the chamber numbers and you breathe a sigh of relief once you find the one that matched the summons notice, pausing to smooth down your pantsuit set and pat the beads of sweat off of your forehead.

You push open the chamber doors as gently as you can, but you quickly realize there is no use as every head in the room turns towards you, gawking at you. Some have a slight frown on their face, looking at you with thinly veiled pity, but most have a clear show of annoyance. With your head down you speedwalk over to your team’s side of the chambers, pulling out a few labeled folders before you place your briefcase next to your seat. You take a deep breath and force yourself to look up, and right across from you is the defendant’s lawyer.

Vincent is wearing a black turtleneck and a matching black blazer, with effortlessly swooped gray hair and his arms crossed over his chest. He looks perfect, too perfect, in a way that pisses you off. He’s already staring at you when you glance at him, his mouth slightly turned upward as he leans over to talk to his client Sandra, maintining eye contact with you as his whispers in her ear.

“Glad you made time to join us Mademoiselle,” the judge says as she shuffles some papers around, using a few fingers to wave over a magistrate to her right, ostensibly for the indictment sheets.

“I am so, so sorry I-” you start before the judge moves her hand to wave you off, finally sparing you a sharp glance.

“Enough time has been wasted. Let us proceed, yes?” she asks, and you almost start to answer before you realize it was rhetorical. There are a few quiet laughs in the courtroom and you fix your eyes on your folder, feeling like a child who was just scolded in class for sneaking a cookie from the lunchroom. You feel Vincent’s eyes on you but you don’t dare to look up. You won’t give him the satisfaction.

Sandra was indicted, of course. This case was going to be a media circus because of her literary career, and you knew this was not going to be an open-and-shut case. Part of you hated trials like these - when the media would decide an angle that they found the most titillating and not leave a single person involved alone until they got a headline that matched their narrative. Another part of you, a massive part of you, hated working with Vincent. You could just constantly feel the smugness dripping off of him, and with every snarky comment and reply you could sense the anger just drilling deeper and deeper into you. Each interaction you had with him managed to make you even more and more mad. At least you’d hopefully only see him for another couple of months.

five months later

Like clockwork, you stepped out of your taxi to be bombarded by reporters with an endless sea of microphones and cameras, a cacophony of aggressive voices yelling your way. You keep your head down and try to push through the crowd, noticing Vincent talking to a reporter with Sandra to his side. You hear a few words, noticeably about Sandra’s innocence and the ignorance of the defense, and that word makes you stop in your tracks. Reporters are asking you questions but you look for the first microphone you can find and start to talk, making sure to project your voice.

“Judicial integrity is what’s most important to me. Not a narrative, not a story. I took an oath to protect this country. Some people don’t take that seriously, but I do, and that’s what I am focused on.”

There is a sea of follow-up questions but you weave through the hoard of people to the top steps of the courtroom, making your way inside. You arrived a bit early to trial today because you knew Daniel, Sandra’s son, was testifying today. You couldn’t shake the unease you’d had all week knowing you had to cross-examine him, seeing his grief-stricken face as he heard the prosecution and defense make a myriad of accusations about the one parent he had left.

“Were you talking about me?”

Vincent’s voice makes you jump, and you turn around to see him staring at you from behind the court pew. You must’ve had a look of confusion on your face because he then clarifies:

“Outside, when you were talking to the reporter from Euronews. Are you implying that I don’t have judicial integrity?” he cocks his head at you, his eyebrows slightly raised. You shrug, grabbing the manila folders with notes from your bag and putting them in front of your seat.

“If the shoe fits, I suppose,” you say with a tight smile as you sling your bag from your shoulder to under your chair. Vincent scoffs, lightly brushing his hair out of his face.

“Right, I should have looked to the attorney who walks in late smelling like cheap wine for… integrity,” he emphasizes that last word, each letter feeling incredibly loud in the silent courtroom. You feel the heat rise from the back of your neck, both in embarrassment and fury. You take a step towards him and he doesn’t move, your faces only a few inches apart.

“Do you think you’re any better? You took this case because you are plagued with this superiority complex that you have to subject everyone to.”

“Hm, so being a good lawyer makes you think I have a superiority complex, good to know,” Vincent says, touching his chin in mock curiosity. Jesus Christ, this guy irritates you.

“No actually, I think I figured it out,” you say with a laugh, poking your finger at his chest.

“Is it because you used to fuck Sandra, and this is some weird fucked up sort of foreplay that you’re forcing us to watch? I wonder if there’s a tape in evidence, of Sandra telling her now-dead husband how many times you two had shitty sex.”

Your sentence sits in the air as the smirk falls from Vincent’s face.

“Do not project whatever bullshit you’ve created in your mind onto me,” he says, staring at you with an intensity that makes you start to squirm.

“You don’t know me, Vincent,” you turn to end the conversation but Vincent grabs your arm, turning you back around to look at him.

“But I think I do,” he says, and you are so close that you can make out the pack of cigarettes in his jean pocket through his cloak is what’s pressing against your thigh.

“I think you put on this show, that you are meek and timid, but it is all an act. Every movement of yours is calculated. Nothing you do has any underpinning of integrity.”

You feel tears well in your eyes and you quickly wipe them away, opening your mouth to speak as the chamber doors open and members of the jury begin to walk in.

“Fuck you,” you tear your arm away from his grip and walk back to your seat.

four months later

It’s been two weeks since the trial ended. The chaotic hustle and attention has died and reporters are gone, with no more requests for comment or interviews on morning TV filling up your inbox. You were called to the courthouse to go over some documentation that the court needed to provide a final report on the case, arriving late on a Saturday night. You shudder as you get out of the taxi, the chill of Paris air sparing no part of your body. You wrap your jacket around yourself and sit on the sidewalk, taking a deep breath as you prepare to go into that same courtroom. You put your head in your hands and sit in silence for what feels like forever until a familiar voice breaks the stillness.

“Hey.”

You don’t move a muscle when you hear Vincent’s voice, hoping that somehow if you stayed completely still he’d believe you were a figment of his imagination and he’d leave you alone. Instead, he takes a seat next to you, the corduroy fabric of his trousers very gently grazing your skirt.

“If you’ve come to gloat, I’m truly not in the mood,” your say, your voice muffled by your hands over your mouth. Vincent says nothing but you hear him rustling through his pants and then the familiar click of a lighter, and you bring your face up to see Vincent taking a drag of a cigarette. He breathes out wafts of smoke, and after a beat, extends his hand towards you. You glance down at the cigarette and then back at him, and he is still looking forward at the architecture across from you. Plucking the cigarette from between his fingers you inhale deeply, tilting your head up to blow the smoke into the sky. You both sit in the quiet for a few moments as you smoke about half of the cigarette. He doesn’t seem to mind, or at least doesn’t say anything.

“How do you feel?” he finally asks, and you chuckle as you take another inhale.

“How do you think I feel?” you look to him and he nods, taking the cigarette from you. You try and ignore the tingly feeling in your stomach when his lips touch the same part of the cigarette that yours did, with no hesitation.

“Did you genuinely believe she was guilty?”

The question throws you off guard.

“I don’t know.” you answer honestly, bringing your knees up to rest your hands on top of them.

“I don’t often think anything is too personal in a court of law, but that phone call with Sandra and Samuel felt, invasive?”

“It didn’t seem like you had any qualms when you were questioning about it,” he questions.

“Well of course not. I wanted to win.”

Vincent laughs, a real deep laugh, and you can’t help but crack a small smile at the noise. You realize you hadn’t heard it before, at least not before it preceded an insult hurled your way.

“What do you mean, invasive?”

It’s hard to collect your thoughts on his question, and you are suddenly transported back into that courtroom, listening to that call.

“It was like I felt every molecule of anger, resentment, disappointment. I just felt like I was right there in the middle, taking both of their punches. Like,” you take a beat, trying to formulate your words.

“Like I was their son, with no vision of what was happening but so desperately aware of the anger in the air. And feeling guilty that I caused it, somehow.”

Vincent hums.

“I’m sorry with how often I pried, about you and Sandra,” your voice is quiet, and you pick at the straps of your heels.

“It’s okay. It was a long time ago. The feelings I have for her have changed.”

This time you hum, unsure of what to say. For the first time in your years of knowing him, you feel bad about possibly making Vincent uncomfortable. You’re not sure why. You sit in awkward silence for a couple of minutes before you stand up, brushing the stray tufts of cigarette ash that stuck to your skirt.

“Well, I won’t keep you, I have to go turn in evidence of my defeat” you gesture towards the papers in your hands. “And you have to go celebrate, I presume.”

Vincent stands up as well, flicking the cigarette onto the floor and stomping it out with his boot.

“No celebrating for me,” he says with his hands raised. You smile, and he does the same.

“How will you be … coping?” he asks and you roll your eyes.

“Not sure, probably at home with a really cheap bottle of wine.”

His lips purse as he puts his hands into his pockets. “I guess I deserve that.”

You rock slightly on your balls and feet, not sure if you should walk away from him or not. You’re just about to step out of his way when he starts talking.

“I have a nice Pinot Grigio I’ve been waiting to open, if you’d, you know, like to … join,” Vincent’s voice gets quieter as he keeps talking, and you swear you can see a soft pink hue on his cheeks, but perhaps that was the night playing tricks on you.

“I don’t want to impose-”

“You wouldn’t be,” he cuts you off. “I’ll wait for you out here?”

Vincent’s house - not apartment - was somehow exactly and nothing like what you would have imagined. It’s a one-story Victorian-style home with a dark exterior, but the inside is painted a warm yellow with tons of books littering the floors and walls and miscellanous trinkets and birthday cards tucked in between. There’s empty pizza boxes and wine bottles on the kitchen floor, and through his tall back window you can see a mini garden in his backyard, with vines of tomatoes and bushels of leafy greens sprawled amongst the grass. It looks very lived in - you can imagine Vincent waltzing around in the morning, reading his big law books with big glasses of wine, like the one you have in your hand right now.

The two of you are currently halfway deep into a bottle, talking about nothing and everything. The case, bad clients you’ve had before, your favorite pastry shops in Paris, the funny face that one of the Magistrates makes every time the Judge looked at him.

“Thank you for the wine monsieur,” you say with a dip of your head and an exaggerated bow.

Vincent shakes his head before taking a sip of wine, and you notice how the soft pink you thought you had noticed before has turned into a deep red from his forehead to his chest. Vincent being tipsy was such an odd thought to you that you couldn’t control your laughter, your hand flying up to cover your mouth as you started to giggle incessantly.

“What? Is there something on my face?” Vincent giggles alongside you, and you shake your head no.

“The serious, smart lawyer is wine-drunk with the person he probably hates the most. I could not have imagined ever being in this situation,” you manage to collect yourself, putting your hand over your chest as you take the final sip in your glass and wave off Vincent as he motions to pour you another one.

“I don’t hate you,” Vincent mutters as he pours himself another glass of wine.

“You’re pretty good at acting like you do.”

He just nods. Suddenly the air in the room has changed, and it feels constricting. Like all of the arguments and venomous insults you’ve thrown at each other has coagulated in this massive living room

“I actually, um, envy you a lot of the time.”

“Envy me?” you can’t help your incredulous tone after his sentence. “You don’t have to say things to pity me, you know,” you laugh, but Vincent’s face is still serious.

“You are just naturally someone people want to spend time with. Even when you annoy me beyond belief, some part of me is always, drawn to you, I suppose. And I envy that. I don’t really know who I am without doing things for others.

You furrow your brows at his sentence. “What do you mean?” you lean over your chair to be a bit closer to him. He plays with the silver ring on his index finger.

“Sometimes I feel like the people I’ve loved, only want me when I can do something for them, you know? I mean, even my own mother, I remember- ” he stops to take a large sip of wine.

“I was almost done with primary school, and my Dad was gone on some inane business trip. I told her I wanted to go to a birthday party downtown, and that I wouldn’t be able to make dinner that night. She got so mad at me that she threw the bottle of wine she’d nearly finished at my head.” He swirls his wine glass around staring into it.

You put your hand on top of his, and he looks up at you, staring into your eyes before clasping his hand arond yours.

“I’m really sorry,” you whisper. He shrugs, and before you can stop yourself, you bring his hand up to your mouth and press a featherlike kiss against his skin. Vincent’s eyes are glassy, and he separates his fingers from yours to place his hand against your face, his thumb gently caressing your jaw.

“Do you have more cigarettes?” you ask, softening into his touch.

“In my bedroom.”

His statement - his ask - reverberates through your head as you both stare at each other, trying to discern what will happen next. Your thoughts are so loud that you’ve afraid that somehow they’ll extend out into the room.

is he saying what i think he is?

And normally, you would say a snarky remark about how he wishes he could get you in his bedroom, and how you’d rather die than see where he sleeps, but the wine has made you slightly woozy and all you can think about is how good he looks with his hair gently sticking to his face and his t-shirt tight around his arms, and what it would feel like to fuck him.

So you say “okay”, and leave your phone on the dining room table.

Vincent opens his bedroom door, moving to let you walk in first before closing the door behind him. He opens his mouth to speak and before you can think your mouth is on his, and he’s shocked for a moment before he kisses you back, your lips melding together. You push your body into his as Vincent wraps his arms around your waist, his hands digging into your skin as he quietly moans into your mouth. Your intertwined bodies make it to the bed and he hovers on top of you, his hard cock pressing against your thigh and you reach down to touch him over his jeans, feeling him shudder against you. You pull away from him.

“You okay?”

“Yeah,” his voice is a little hoarser than it was before. “I’m okay.”

“Good,” you pull your shirt over your head and tug at the bottom of his and he laughs he does the same, and you admire his shirtless body as he reaches back down to kiss you again, but he’s not as gentle this time. He’s aggressive, dipping his tongue into your mouth and holding your face in his hands.

“So beautiful”, he murmurs, tilting your head so he can suck on your neck and graze his teeth against the bruises spot he left. “So much more beautiful than I imagined”.

Your head falls back on the pillow as you feel his hands reach behind your back and unclip the hooks on your bra, his mouth moving to your breasts and licking your nipples.

“You’ve imagined me?” you pretend to be bashful as your mouth falls into an o-shape, feeling Vincent’s mouth on your chest and his hands on . He moans and you can feel it throughout your whole body as you lean down to shimmy out of your skirt and underwear in one move.

“In every way possible,” he says as he dips a finger down, past your belly button and into your cunt. You’d feel embarrassed at how wet you are already if his hand didn’t feel so good inside of you.

“I’ve thought about what you would taste like, how you would sound when I first fuck you for the first time,” his mouth moves down from your chest, leaving a trail of wet kisses down your abdomen before he’s just above your heat and you sigh, involuntarily jerking your hips up. He puts his free hand around your lower stomach to hold you in place.

“But nothing,” he nips at the spot right in the crease of your hip, licking a long stripe just next to your heat.

“Could’ve come close to how pretty you really are.”

“Christ,” your hands grab fistfuls of Vincent’s sheets as his tongue finally swirls around your clit, pressing just a bit harder as he puts another finger inside of you. You can feel the pressure building in your lower stomach as you and Vincent’s grip on your stomach get firmer as you wriggle under his touch. He groans into your mouth as you start to grind your hips into him, fucking you faster with his fingers as he rolls his hips into the bed.

“Vincent,” you say with a gasp and grip his hair, pulling as you come around his mouth, your head dizzy with the feeling of Vincent’s tongue on you as he stares up at you from between your legs. He pulls his hand out of your cunt and licks his fingers before putting his mouth back on your clit, making you jump at the contact. You hiss as he licks the sensitive area, your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you tug so hard on Vincent’s hair that you’re afraid you’re hurting him, but if you are, he doesn’t stop you. He interlocks his fingers across your stomach and holds you into place, groaning into your clit.

“Okayokayokay,” you move your hands from his hair to head to pull him up, your breathing labored as you try to get yourself together. He leans over to kiss you, his lips softly molding against yours as you wrap your arms around his back.

Breathless, you move your hand down to touch Vincent but he quickly stops you.

“It’s- um-”

You look down and notice the wet spot on Vincent’s boxers, and your eyebrows raise to the top of your forehead as you come to the realization that he came while he was eating you out.

“Did you-”

Vincent groans, hiding his face in your neck as you giggle, coming down from your high.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you thread your fingers through his now disheveled hair. “It’s kind of hot if I’m being honest.” Vincent looks at you with a questioning look but you just smile.

“Plus, we have all night to try again.”

You wake up in Vincent’s bedroom, with a few strips of sunlight peeking through Vincent’s closed blinds. You haphazardly reach over to his side of the bed to grab his arm, but find it empty, raising your head from the pillow to see that you’re completely alone. Vincent’s clothes that he had taken off during the night and tossed onto the floor were gone. You waited to see if you could hear Vincent in his kitchen, or in the garden, but you were in complete silence.

To be fair, he didn’t say anything last night to insinuate that he wanted a relationship with you, or even liked you. Maybe this was secretly a win for him - he could beat you in a courtroom, and now he got you in your most vulnerable state to declare that you actually felt something other than hatred for him. And maybe that’s all he wanted. You’re not sure why you expected anything differently.

You throw the blankets off of you and find your clothes neatly folded on his desk, and his courteousness manages to upset you even more. You put your clothes on and try to collect yourself, taking a few deep breaths as you walk out of his bedroom and out towards his kitchen. You scan the room for your phone, which you swear you left on the dining room table, only to finally see it on top of a note on the kitchen counter written in messy cursive.

“Went out for cigarettes and coffee.

Bringing back croissants and a capuc- cappuccino.

Will be back in ten.

Go back to bed.

V”

taglist: @ghostlytide

graphic credits: @glasvera

#vincent renzi #vincent renzi fanfiction #swann arlaud fanfiction #swann arlaud #vincent renzi x reader #swann arlaud x reader #anatomy of a fall fanfiction #anatomy of a fall #anatomie d'une chute #vincent renzi smut #swann arlaud smut #smut #fanfic

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cauliplea · 1 day

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it baffles me how many people twist the whole "Ratio hates idiots" thing even though it's literally anything but that.

did people not even read the character details? he doesn't hate idiots necessarily, it goes deeper than that. but for some reason people immediately think that Ratio would hate someone because they are less smarter that him.

No, he does not hate people with less knowledge, he hates people that doesn't try to gain more knowledge and better themselves, he hates people that think they are better than others simply because they are smarter, he only hates people that choose to stay ignorant.

the amount of ableism he recieves when it comes to his entire character makes me want to rip my hair out, no he would not hate you because you're bad at math, he'd recognize if you had any other talents other than math and praise you for it and try to help, no he wouldn't hate aventurine because you people think Aventurine is an idiot in his standarts (I'll get to this later)

he is a big softie yet it is always ignored just because he was rude to most of the characters we have seen which if you took two seconds to think about it's justified.

Herta, Screwllum and Ruan Mei are all part of genius society and they all share one personality trait which is being self-centered and that's what ratio hates the MOST. he doesn't like people that only care about themselves, so how could anyone think that someone that hates selfishness be selfish?

I do love herta, Screwllum and Ruan Mei but you have to agree they are selfish when it comes to their goal, all of genius society is, they all do things for themselves and not others unlike Ratio, which is a common theme since you can notice Nous only recognizing people that seek knowledge for themselves and not others like Ratio.

When it comes to his relationship with Aventurine I'm glad people can recognize that he cares enough but there are still times where he's seen as cold hearted which is not true at all, this man is direct with what he feels whether it's care or hate, he didn't hesitate to call Sunday crazy and he wouldn't hesitate to show aventurine that he cares which he already does, just in his own confusing way.

I've also seen people call aventurine an idiot which I can't stand, how could you even muster up that idea? he is intelligent, Ratio literally sees him as an equal which could be another hard evidence on how he doesn't hate "Idiots" (since people think Aventurine qualifies as one because he couldn't go to school or learn academically. :|) he recognizes Aventurines talent and intelligence, the times he calls aventurine a fool or anything else is obviously affectionate and lighthearted.

the first scene they were on screen together the reason he insulted Aventurines knowledge he apologized afterwards when he realized that it wasn't Aventurines fault. (I'm not going to touch on racism stuff stuff because it is a very depth situation but I will say that I dislike Ratio's actions when it comes to it but I highly think that it was so out of character for him to do so and hyv is just weird as fuck.)

so no, Ratio isn't a cold hearted, mean asshole, he's lovely so please write him as lovely. it breaks my heart and hurts my autism when people mischaracterize him.

#dr ratio #hsr dr ratio #hsr #hsr aventurine #aventurine honkai star rail #aventio #raturine #he's autistic #they are all autistic

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agirlcandream84 · 1 day

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you write a lot of boyfriend!frank but how do you think he would be before that/at the beginning of the relationship, who would be the first to ask the other out? do you think frank would be confident in himself or a anxious mess during a first date? would he try to kiss her? and the same when it comes to first sex- confident or rather anxious? love your writing!! 💗

First of all -- thank you! So glad you're enjoying reading. Second -- such great questions! So much to think about.

Ok, so I imagine the relationship not following a typical linear path. In a lot of ways, I sort of envision my Neighbor!Frank stories to be a prelude to Boyfriend!Frank though there are a lot of differences between the two. They're not technically the same "character" but I still envision the relationship starting in a similar way. Meaning, you're in each other's orbits for a long time -- neighbors who rely on each other a lot (more like you relying on him more tho) and in a lot of ways, it's a very intimate, nearly romantic relationship. Frank sort of makes it his job to make sure you're taken care of, even if it is from down the hall. Hauling your packages up to your unit, fixing your jammed window, installing your garbage disposal for you.

And most of the time, he's anticipating your needs before you get a chance to ask him. Like that jammed window-- you worked up the nerve to knock on his door and ask for help and all you say is "Frank, I was wondering if maybe you could--" and he's finishing your sentence with "fix that jammed window? Yeah sweetheart, I saw your curtains blowin' in the breeze last night and knew that window must have been jammed open. Piece-of-shit landlord shouldn't be leaving you in a unit without locked windows" while he's grabbing for his toolbox.

And this goes on for months -- with the moments growing more intimate but still never romantic. Like when he was gone for 9 days straight and you couldn't stop checking the peephole everytime you heard footsteps. On the ninth day, when he finally came home, you barreled out of your apartment door and nearly crashed into his arms mumbling, "was so worried about you Frank. You didn't tell me you were leaving," and he's just rubbing your back and murmuring, "hey hey, I'm here sweetheart. Shit, didn't mean to worry ya -- just had some business I had to do. Hey I'm alright, I'm alright." And it was that moment that Frank decided he wasn't gonna leave you like that again.

Because as far as Frank was concerned, he was gonna stay in your life whether it was romantic or not. You were it for him. He was in it for the long haul. Now he was just gonna give you time for you to realize it too. And that came a few weeks later when a particularly pushy date was at your doorstep, pulling out every excuse in the books to get into your apartment, in the hopes of getting into your pants. He's got one foot in your door, going on and on about how he could really use a coffee and maybe you just could just make him a cup and you're politely declining over and over until you see Frank's door creak open and he casually leans against the frame, arms folded across his broad chest, and asks "everything alright sweetheart?" and the guy just cranes his neck back to say "fuck off buddy." Frank only smirks a bit before he makes eye contact with you and says "Say the word honey," and you just give him a quick nod. Frank is on the guy in two strides, stomping his foot with a sickening crunch and the guy is hunched and howling. Frank leans towards his ear, his arm looped around the guy's bicep as he hauls him upright and says "Apologize-- now" and the guy is spewing I'm sorrys at you as Frank shoves him with a "now get the fuck out of here."

Not a moment later and Frank is back in front of you, a hand cupped to your jaw and a thumb rubbing the skin of your cheek asking if you're ok and "he didn't touch you did he?" You lean into his hand and shake your head no, offering a quiet thank you for his help. You both stay like that a moment, reveling in the closeness. The safety of it. Frank's eyes are searching your face as he asks, "When are you gonna stop wasting your time with these assholes?" He had seen the dates come and go, never lasting more than a few awkward encounters. For a moment, you can't meet his eye but you force a smile and and ask "What asshole should I be wasting my time with?" He lets out a soft chuckle and his other hand lands on the opposite cheek, tilting your face up towards his as he says "this asshole" and guides your lips to his. At first the kiss is slow, tentative. Like he'd be asking permission if his mouth weren't already occupied. He's gauging your comfort but he soon finds confirmation when you let out a small whine as you raise to your tip-toes to deepen the kiss.

Like a powderkeg, Frank hauls you closer to him, guiding your bodies back into your apartment with your lips still locked. You're nearly floating, the strength of Frank's grip carrying you into the bedroom where he lifts you onto the bedroom and undresses you as he kisses along your body, telling you how fucking beautiful you are. And throughout it all you hear Frank's plea-- let me love you, let me love you, let me love you-- in the way Frank fills you up slowly, the way he asks "you ok sweetheart?" every time he draws a whimper from you, the way his hand is soft on your stomach as an orgasm tears through you.

And that was it. Not another moment passed that Frank didn't let you know you were his and he was yours.

Not the most storybook love story but it's how I envision it.

#frank castle #frank castle x reader #frank castle fanfic #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle smut #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle fluff

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squirmhoney · 2 days

Text

WITH TIME | NAOYA ZEN'IN

Please read all warnings carefully, my fics cover dark topic matters, that may be upsetting to certain readers. Read at your own discretion. Warnings: Dark. Arranged/Forced marriage. Non con. Dub con. Abusive relationship. Forced pregnancy Spanking. Loss of virginity. Violence against reader. Misogynistic views. Degrading views. Submissive reader. 18+ A/N: Part 4!! Please I've added a few more tags this one so please read them. My girl is going through it. one more part to go. there is a mention of a character from part 2, just in case you don't know who it is.

AS ALWAYS MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! MASTER LIST HERE

This wasn’t love.

You couldn’t allow yourself to believe that this wasn’t some twisted version of hell that Naoya kept you in.

He drilled it into your brain, not through words, but through actions. Ever since he had brutally taken you in his bed two months ago, he was no longer prepared to show any restraint towards you.

What he wanted, he got. You were a means to an end to him in all respects and he made it clear as he abused your body over and over again. He would wait till you were a whimpering mess, not showing any affection towards you, until he knew you were on the brink of becoming numb, then he’d show a slither of kindness.

You knew the game he was playing but yet everytime you caved in and you were only starting to realise why.

It was when you found yourself swallowing down sobs, burying your face into the sheets next to him as you tried to calm yourself down, that you finally caught on.

Naoya’s fingers were slow as they started to graze your back, running against the soft skin as he tried to hush you. He took his time with it, watching how you reacted to each of subtle touches until he managed to circle his arm around your waist, yank your body back into his with your back pressed against his chest. Then he’d pepper kisses along the side of your face, trying to calm you down in some way.

After days of no affection, him barely talking to you and degrading your self worth to nothing, he would give you the finest speck of kindness. He knew you’d be desperate for it at that point, craving anything from him to make yourself feel somewhat sane. So of course you caved, relaxing into his touch and blabbering apologies to him.

But today you didn’t even know whether to speak, unsure if an apology was the right thing to say. Instead you just rolled over and into him, pressing your face against his chest for the smallest bit of comfort.

“You’re okay,” Naoya hushed, fingers threading through your hair as he gently massaged your scalp. “Hmmm.”

The feel of him pressed against you had your stomach churning again, vomit rising up your throat. You couldn’t help it as you pushed yourself off the bed, sprinting for the toilet just to make it in time.

It's recently turned into a regular occurrence for you to vomit after sex. It was as if your body was rejecting him, or it was slowly breaking down until it no longer functioned anymore.

You didn’t want to be sick, honestly.

You were terrified of how it may be offending Naoya to see you in such a state. Most of the time he just seemed disgusted by it, rolling his eyes every time he saw you retreat into the bathroom.

However, today was different as he crouched beside you, hand rubbing up and down your spine.

“I’ve arranged an appointment for the doctor to come see you,” Naoya said, pulling the strands of hair out of your face. “Why don’t you get cleaned up and I’ll get someone to bring you some clothes to wear?”

You nodded, croaking out a small, “Thank you.”

“Got to take care of my wife,” he insisted.

You turned to him then, trying to muster a smile but it was hard to force it as you looked up at him.

A lazy smirk drew across his face like he knew something you didn’t.

“I’ll wait for you downstairs.”

All you could do was muster a nod in response.

You were trembling, your hands barely holding up as it covered your tear stained face.

The mixture of emotions you felt, were overwhelming and you struggled as you fought with yourself to keep your cries at bay.

But as your hand hovered over your bloated stomach, unable to even graze over the skin, you sucked in a whimper again.

You didn’t want to cry anymore. You were bored sick of crying all the time.

There was no other reaction you could muster.

Even as rage filled you at the thought of Naoya Zenin’s demon child growing in your stomach, you were too scared to act out on it.

“Wife.”

Too busy fighting with yourself to control your emotions, you hadn’t even realised Naoya creeping up behind you. Not till his breath was fanning against your ear and his hands were forcing you to turn around to face him.

“Hiding from me?” Naoya questioned, pressing a finger under your chin to direct your attention to him.

“No,” you shook your head, biting on your lip as you sniffed. “It’s just a lot.”

Naoya nodded, tension releasing from his body as he cupped your face.

You were taken back at his thumbs wiping at your tears but didn’t fight against it.

“It’s okay,” Naoya hummed, voice soft and a complete contradiction to his character over the last few weeks. “I get it, I do.”

You can’t help but gaze up at him through your wet lashes, lips quivering as you allow him to comfort you.

“I’ve been hard on you.” You swallowed at this, not sure what he was getting at. “But you’re my wife and now that you’re carrying my child-” His hand rests over your stomach “-I will do right by you.”

His words were meant to be reassuring but as his lips pressed against your forehead, you felt anything but reassured.

As time drew on, your stomach finally started to show what you were desperate to deny.

What had taken you by surprise the most had been your reaction to it. The way you looked back at yourself in the mirror, hand running over the swelling as you stared in awe.

Naoya appeared behind you, pressing his chest against your back, hand coming to rest on top of yours. His eyes trailed your skin, humming to himself as he grinned at the sight of you. Until his eyes caught the faded bruise wrapped around your wrist, eyes softening as his finger touched it.

“I need to be more careful,” he whispered, as if he was speaking to himself.

But then his gaze caught yours, eyes darkening as his lips reached down to graze yours.

“My fragile woman,” he mumbled into your lips, hands sliding down over the curves of your body. “Mine, mine, mine…” He continuously repeated, till he was gently pushing you over the sink, dick hard and wanting as it pressed into the crack of your ass cheek.

And when he sunk into you for the first time that day, something entirely new possessed you, repeating his words back to him as you moaned into his lips, “Yours. Only yours.”

You had never imagined life with Naoya to be like this. Each month of pregnant life things seemed to be getting easier and seven months in you felt like you could find some semblance of happiness in this.

Naoya was gentle with you, treating you like a fragile vase that was one wrong move away from breaking and you liked it.

You liked how he doted on you in the morning, pressing soft kisses over your skin to wake you before work. You liked how he called during his work day, just ready to listen to your voice as you told him the most mundane things of your day. You liked the way he pressed you into the mattress, fingers digging into your thighs as he buried himself inside of you.

He fucked you like he wanted to impregnante you all over again. As if there wasn’t full certainty that his seed had taken, even though you were rounder than the moon underneath him.

But you couldn’t deny that you enjoyed it. It left you with a feeling that he genuinely cared about you, that you were more than just some mare for him to breed. As if you were his wife, possibly close to his equal.

As his fingers danced across your collarbone, fiddling with the dainty necklace he had presented you an hour ago, you felt that feeling heating your skin all over again.

“You look beautiful,” he told you, kissing the subtle skin under your ear. “You ready?”

“Yes,” you gleamed up at him, pressing your lips to his quickly, before wiping any residue of your gloss away.

“I can’t wait for everyone to properly see you.”

His fingers interlocked with yours, guiding you to all the people that had been gathered to celebrate your pregnancy.

Naoya only took his hand from yours to place it on the curve of your back, rubbing soothing circles as many members of the clan greeted you. Most of the men and women were ecstatic to see you both, cooing at the sight of your stomach and asking a million questions.

You separated from each other an hour or two in, your mother taking you into a corner with a few other women as they all pressed their hand against your stomach.

“You have felt some movement?” your mother questioned, eyebrows furrowed at you.

“Yes.” you nodded with a half-hearted smile, starting to grow tired of the attention. “I think he’s just asleep.”

“You’d think with all these people around he wouldn’t be able to sleep,” another voice chimed in.

You didn’t recognise the voice at first, not bothering to look either as you replied, “He is normally awake when his father is around, if I’m being honest.” You turned your head, turning to a familiar face you hadn’t seen in over a year.

Familiar blue eyes stared back into yours, lips curving up into a smile as she waved.

“Hana,” you gasped.

“Congratulations.” She raised her glass at you, lips forming into a tight line after taking a sip.

“Could I have a moment alone?” You turned to your mother, wide eyes pleading with her.

With only a little bit of hesitation she stood up, dragging the other women with her until they were a bit of a distance away.

“How have you been?” You went back to Hana, shifting in your seat to make room for her.

“I think I should be asking you that.” She took the seat beside you, both of you looking at the floor in front of you. “Don’t you think?”

“I’m sure a lot has happened to the both of us since we last saw each other,” you told her, trying to open up the conversation to a topic other than you.

“I find it very strange seeing you like this.” There was a sadness in her voice as if she was disappointed.

“I never imagined I’d be like this either. It’s all new to me.”

“I imagine it’s quite odd.”

“In a way, unfamiliar but also… it feels right. Like it’s meant to be and everything seems to be falling into place so naturally.”

She laughed humorlessly at this.

“What?” Your eyes glanced over at her.

“It feels right with him,” she whispered this, clearly not wanting anyone to overhear her.

You noticed your husband sitting to the other side of the garden, most of the clans attention on him as they chatted amongst them. As if he could feel your eyes on him, he looked up with a wide smile and a nod.

One that had the tips of your ears burning pink, teeth biting on your lip as you answered your old friend, “Yes, it does.”

“You’re joking right.”

Your gaze turned back to her at this, seeing the look of disgust clearly on her face.

“Him?”

“It’s not been easy,” you were truthful, placing a hand against your stomach. “It was hard-”

“You hated him,” she hissed.

“That is in the past. We were children then.”

“Things don’t change that quickly.”

“It hasn’t been quick, you think I’ve always been this happy.”

“I’m just trying to understand.” Her hand reached out for yours, holding it. “Why him?”

Not all of us have a choice, you wanted to scream at her.

But you knew those words would reach back to Naoya and you couldn’t risk your emotions getting the best of you now.

“I’m sorry,” you apologised, tearing your hand away from hers. “But I am allowed to want this for myself. I’m allowed to be happy in this.”

“I didn’t mean-”

“Everything okay?” Your husband’s voice spoke, a scowl on his face as he looked down at the woman next to you.

“Can you help me to the bathroom?” You asked, holding out your hand for him to take.

“Of course.” His hand reached behind you, helping you up as he pulled you into him.

You took one last glance behind you, Hana not even looking your way as she kicked the grass underneath her.

“If you want me to get rid of her, all you have to do is say,” Naoya told you.

“I don’t think that will be necessary,” you said, a hint of a giggle in your tone. “But thank you.”

Naoya found you in the kitchen hours later, dressed in a robe that barely covered you.

You had long taken off the outfit and makeup from earlier, slipping into comfort as you let your hair messily hang down your back. You were brewing some tea for the both of you, in your own world when your husband crept up behind you.

He buried his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your scent with a large sniff as you tried to recover from your thumping heart from him startling you.

“What are you doing down here?” He asked, resting his chin on your shoulder as he wrapped his arms around you.

“Making us some tea before bed,” you told him, eyes resting as you sunk into his warm touch.

“We have staff for a reason.”

“I just like to do things for you.” You pouted softly, staring up at him through your lashes.

“You’ve done plenty for me.” Hand coming to rest upon your stomach as his fingers slipped easily under the nightgown. “Wife.”

That simple word sent your skin ablaze, goosebumps forming in the wake of his subtle touch. “Husband.”

He hummed, hands finding your full breasts as he gave them a tight squeeze. One that had you sighing in some sort of release as your nipples leaked.

“That feels good.” You nibbled on your bottom lip in anticipation, waiting for his next move.

“I can make you feel even better,” he replied, ever so confident as he unwrapped the silk robe from your frame.

It fell to the floor in a heap, leaving you bare before him, trapped in between his body and the kitchen cabinets.

“Turn around.”

You obeyed, watching as his gaze fell onto you, running over every inch of skin.

“Beautiful.”

He matched his words with a kiss, one placed across your chest. That turned into another placed directly on your breast, hands following as they felt up the skin of your sides. His lips slid down, kisses turning wet as he licked and nipped every inch of your skin till he fell to his knees in front of you.

“Naoya,” you questioned him, eyes fluttering as you looked down at him. “What are you-”

Your words caught in your throat, feeling his breath against your core as he gently pried your thighs open. You tried to move with him, letting him open your legs but it was hard not wanting to push all your weight on him.

He looked up at you, eyebrows raised as if questioning why you were being so difficult.

“Relax,” he told you, wrapping your thigh around his shoulder. “I got you.”

You let out a strangled breath, resting into him and letting his hands catch you.

“There you go,” Naoyo mused, finally being face to face with your sopping cunt.

He’s never been down there before, not like this. The only time he ever was staring at your cunt was when his fingers were playing with your clit or his dick was getting lost in your walls. Never had he been so close with his actual face and you never believed he would be.

Disbelief filled you when his lips finally kissed you, being met with instant wetness coating his lips.

He retreated for a second, licking the fluids on his lips as he wrinkled his nose.

You didn’t see much of a reaction from that but he soon returned, mouth opening as it met your wetness this time.

He took his time, using his tongue to explore the different parts in between your folds, swallowing the fluids of your cunt every now and then. He noticed the way your thighs would tighten every time his tongue grazed over your clit and eventually he found his attention drawn to it.

You mewled when his tongue flicked at your clit, hand grabbing the countertop behind you for support.

He chuckled at this, the vibrations of it going right through you as your walls clenched around nothing.

You could feel his sinister smile grace his lips as you grabbed his locks, stomach tightening in knots at the foreign feeling of him sucking at your clit.

Naoya wasn’t a man that would eat a woman out. The man had never even so much as tasted you down there and you knew for a fact he wouldn’t have done this with someone before you, he would have been disgusted at the mere thought.

But Naoya was eating you out like a crazed man in dire need of every drip of juice your cunt would offer him. He made this clear in the way his lips detached from your clit only for his tongue to sink down, delving into your walls.

With one hand digging into the flesh of your ass cheek, Naoya used his other hand to dip in between your thighs, thumb finding your swollen clit.

As soon as his thumb began to rub your clit, you were dripping into his mouth, growing wetter by the second as he just drank it all in. Your eyes rolled back as

“Have you always tasted this good?” He groaned into you, lapping up your sweet essence. “Fuck, I need to this more often.”

Your eyes rolled back at that, fingers tightening on his locks as you felt yourself suddenly let go.

He doesn't stop. Not even when your thighs practically trap his head between them. Not even when you drop every bit of your weight on him, falling slack into his grip.

It’s only when you relax, coming back from your orgasm, that you're desperate to check he’s okay.

But he’s fine- more than fine as he detaches himself from your cunt, lips covered in your honeyed slick. His chest is heaving, completely breathless like you as he stands up, towering over you.

“You’ve made such a mess,” he tutted, shaking his head.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled, still coming down from your high as you rubbed your hand to his chest.

“How about you come make a bigger mess of me upstairs?” He hummed, already whisking you towards the direction of your bedroom.

Taglist: @xxsweetnlowxx @slashmedaddy @yktijdtmyp @4morrant @vcvoxu @paleachcobbler @checkmate-stuff (let me know if you wanted to be added)

#jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin #naoya x you #jujutsu kaisen smut #naoya zenin smut #jjk smut #jjk x reader

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glorystark · 2 days

Text

Empty eyes | Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Dean doesn't take Charlie's death too well and because of the Mark of Cain affecting him, he tells you things that will regret.

Warnings: moc!Dean Winchester, Dean being a dick, minor mentions of injury, swearing, ANGST, major character's death

Pairing: Dean Winchester × reader

Featuring: Sam Winchester

Word count: 2,3k

We watched in agony as Charlie's body, wrapped around a white sheet, burned in the flames. This should never have happened to her kind soul. She died so we could save Dean. I couldn't help but feel guilty; my heart ached because I lost a friend, again. I knew Sam felt the same. We both asked Charlie for help with the Book of the Damned, and we both lied to Dean about the book being destroyed. Now it was too late to make things right. Memories flashed through my eyes, making me tear up. I remembered when she helped us with the Dick situation, or when I taught her some hunter-kind-of-tricks. How happy she was and wouldn't stop thanking me. She didn't deserve this, anyone but her.

“Charlie,” Sam started, grabbing my and probably Dean's attention. “We are gonna miss you. You're the best.” He stopped when his voice cracked, and now I was sure he felt far worse than me because looking back, he suggested not telling Dean about the Book of the Damned not being destroyed, which I didn't agree with at first. But seeing Dean, my Dean, slowly fade away right in front of my eyes changed my opinion. Maybe it was selfish, me and Sam both were. But we couldn't let Dean become something he fears, a Monster. We couldn't lose another person, another family member, but we didn't realize who we were putting in danger on this path.

“We love you, Charlie, and I'm so sorry,” I said, blinking through tears.

“Shut up,” Dean said coldly, making Sam and me look at him. “You got her killed. You don't get to apologize.” He continued.

“Dean-“ Sam started, but Dean cut him off.

“You too, you two are the reason she is dead,” he said, not taking his eyes off the flames.

“We were trying to help you,” I said, still looking at him.

“I didn't need help,” he said bitterly. "I told you to leave it alone.”

“What were we supposed to do, just watch you die?” Sam asked, not letting me be the only one receiving the cold tone from his older brother.

“The mark isn't gonna kill me.”

“Maybe not, but when it's done with you, you won't be you anymore,” I stated. “Dean, you're all we got. So of course we were gonna fight for you because that's what we do,” I said softly.

“Yeah, she's right, we had a shot-“ Sam was cut off again by Dean.

“Yeah, you had a shot. Charlie is dead.” He finally turned his head to look at me and his brother, who was standing next to me. His dark emerald eyes bore into mine, and I couldn't recognize them. Never have I ever seen him look at me with those eyes. Because no matter how much crap we went through, he always made sure I was fine, and his eyes held nothing but sweetness and, on most occasions, worry. “Nice shot.”

“Are you even listening to me? You think I'm ever gonna forgive myself for that?!” I snapped, not being able to keep my voice down anymore. He is grieving, but so am I. If I could, I would trade places with her.

“You know what I think,” he started, still with the same voice tone. “I think it should be you up there and not her.”

I felt my heart break for the hundredth time today. I parted my lips, not taking my teary eyes off him, which clearly showed how hurt I was. Sam let out a small gasp and widened his eyes after he heard Dean's words, clearly not expecting his brother to go that far.

I knew he blamed me, probably even more than Sam. But knowing that he wanted me dead hurt more than any physical torture I've experienced.

Sam called his name, still shocked after what he heard, but his brother just walked away, breaking my heart more and more.

—————

It has been a week since I lost Charlie, since I lost my Dean. He has been searching for the Stynes ever since but has been having a bit of trouble finding their location. So meanwhile, he went on a few solo hunts. He hasn't said a word to me and to Sam, just a few like ‘buy some beers’ ‘did you find anything about the Stynes’.

He found another hunt for today and was packing his bag in his own room. We both haven't stepped in our shared room ever since the accident, which meant we weren't even sleeping on the same bed. I'm done with being ignored, so I knocked on his door and opened it without waiting for any response. He didn't even turn around, probably knowing it was me.

“Dean,” I called his name, not even knowing what I wanna talk about, but getting him to look at me was the first step. “Dean,” I called, this time louder, and when he still didn't turn around, I walked towards him and grabbed his arm. “Alright, I'm done. When will you finally stop ignoring me?!”

He looked at my hand, which was grabbing his arm, and slowly turned around, finally looking at my face. “I'm not ignoring you, I just don't want to talk to you or be near you,” he said bitterly, pulling his arm away and reaching for his door.

“Dean, you know you're not the only one who lost someone, okay? And believe me, I know it's my fault she's gone, and I'll never forgive myself for that. But, god, you're practically killing me. I miss you,” I said desperately, waiting for something in his eyes to change, waiting for him to embrace me in his strong arms, but... Nothing. His eyes didn't even hold hatred anymore, just emptiness.

“I don't know what you expect me to say, ‘I'm sorry you were so stupid’ ‘I'm sorry you got another person killed off’ ‘I'm sorry you're so fucking useless’ Huh?! Is that what you want me to say? You want me to feel sorry for you?!” he yelled, showing the anger and darkness in his eyes while he harshly slammed me to the wall, making me whimper slightly. His words cut deep into my skin, but I tried my best to ignore them, knowing this Dean wasn't really my Dean.

“I want you to understand, I want you to know that I'm sorry. I want you to tell me that we're gonna go through this like we always do,” I said softly, looking deeply into his eyes, trying to crack him.

He let out a dark chuckle and grasped my shoulders, lowering his head to be on the same height level with me. “You want me to tell you that we're gonna go through this? Well, baby, in that way, I'd be a big liar.”

“Dean, me and Sam, we are so close to saving you. Please, just don't let the mark control you,” I begged, feeling small under his touch.

“I don't want nor need you two saving me, and believe me, at this very moment, I'm trying to not let the mark control me, so don't provoke me,” he whispered against my ear, sending shivers down my spine.

"I thought you trusted me.”

“Well, that trust was destroyed when you got someone who was like a sister to me killed. Have you ever noticed how many innocent people died because you were being too stupid?” he said harshly.

"We all have made mistakes, Dean," I said, as I thought about the hunts where innocent people died, and I couldn't save them. I didn't want Dean to know how much his words were affecting me, but, god, I felt like a crumpled paper.

“Seems like that's the only thing you ever do,” he smirked, letting his eyes fall on the floor again before looking up at my eyes again. “Tell me, how does it feel knowing you don't mean anything to anybody and you're just a burden in our lives? How does it feel knowing nobody loves you?”

That's it. That was the punch line to make me break into tears.

“Y-you love me, you said that before.”

“You know I lie to get laid,” he said, smirking, proud of his response.

My heart was racing more and more, and I felt nauseous.

“Dean, please-“

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing!” he grabbed my cheeks harshly. “Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.” he said, spitting the words out before letting me go. He took his bag and walked out of the room, not even glancing at me. I slid down the wall as I started sobbing silently.

Then I heard a buzz from my phone.

New message from Sammy:

“Y/N, Dean just said he found a hunt, probably three to four werewolves, and he told me to go with him. I was really surprised but didn't question him. I think he's getting better. I'll also talk to him on the road. Next time, he'll definitely ask you too, just like old times. Don't stay up and don't worry; we got this :) love you.”

He asked Sam to go, but not me. If he hadn't told me that he hated me a few minutes ago, I'd think he was worried. But if it was really 3 or 4 werewolves, there's nothing to be worried about. He just wants to stay away from me. He told me I was a burden to them; he'll probably throw me out of the bunker soon.

Dark thoughts ran through my mind, and suddenly a rush of anxiety ran through me. What if there were more than a few werewolves? What if they get hurt? What if Dean hates me even more?

I checked Sam's message again and saw that he sent me the address of where the werewolves' location is and where the hunt would probably take place. I quickly rushed to my room, grabbed my car keys, and went to drive to the location.

—————

I was hiding behind some of the trees in the forest, watching as each of the boys fought one werewolf, two already dead ones on the floor.

Everything seemed good so far; I mean, their guns were on the floor, but they were fighting each werewolf single handed and there was no need for me to make my presence known. The boys were winning as always. And that's when I realized they don't really need me in their life. I knew the words that came out of Dean's mouth tonight weren't really Dean's, my Dean. But he was somehow right; before I became the hunter I am today, I made many mistakes. Some were small, and some led to people getting hurt or even killed. I also put their lives in danger multiple times because I was being reckless. Finding the demons that killed my parents blinded my vision. I was ready to get back to the bunker when I saw both of the werewolves giving up until I noticed something.

A werewolf close to Sam's back, and it seemed like none of the brothers noticed him. I searched for my gun but remembered I forgot it in the backseat of my car. I cursed under my breath and did the only thing possible right now to save Sam. I couldn't let Dean lose another person, especially his brother, who I knew meant the world to him. I couldn't put him through something like that again when there's a chance to save the younger Winchester.

So I ran towards Sam, trying my best to not slip because of the woods on the floor. The Werewolf was close, and nobody noticed him. I'm not the only stupid one after all. The boys turned their heads to me for a slight second, surprised at my presence, but didn't stop fighting the other werewolves.

Until I pushed Sam away from the werewolf he was fighting onto the floor. He seemed confused at first, until he saw it. I assumed Dean did too but couldn't be too sure since he was behind me. I let out an agonizing scream when the werewolf grazed his claws into my stomach and the other one, which Sam was fighting before, grazed his claws into my back before my lifeless body fell on the floor. Dean didn't hesitate more seconds before getting his gun from the floor and shooting all the werewolves.

I was bleeding like a waterfall from my body and my mouth. But the good thing is-

I didn't feel any pain, or anything in that matter…

Dean Winchester’s Pov:

No no no.

This can't be happening.

It's all a nightmare, just another stupid nightmare.

I heard Sam's crying voice telling the love of my life, his best friend, to wake up, holding her torn apart body in his arms, asking her why she pushed him away. But there was no answer.

It's a nightmare happening in real life.

Her beautiful y/e/c are open but so empty, unrecognizable.

I stood over her body, not being able to move from my spot.

There is so much blood everywhere.

Her blood.

This is hell.

No, I’ve been to hell and it's worse than hell.

I started tearing up more and more, reality hitting me more every second.

I let out an angry scream and fell on my knees when I remembered my last words to her.

“You're nothing, do you hear me? Nothing! Your existence doesn't matter. You.don't.matter.”

She wasn't nothing, she was my everything.

She mattered, she was the reason I kept going, now she's gone and it's all my fault.

All my fault.

All of the words I said came back to me, making my chest hurt.

As I knelt beside her lifeless body, surrounded by the aftermath of our shattered world, I whisper into the silent abyss, "I'm sorry, Y/N. I'm so sorry."

And deep down I felt the Mark laughing…

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kurogane2512 · 2 days

Note

It's my birthday today

And I would love it if you could do nsfw and sfw headcannons of what cabernet, La signora, arlecchino and Chameleon would do with me today (how have you been? I'm great!)

I have been doing good too and HAPPY BIRTHDAY!! 🥳🎂 I hope you have a great day ahead and here is a little present from me ❤️

18+ CONTENT

Games: Genshin Impact, Path to Nowhere

Characters: La Signora, Chameleon, Cabernet x male! Reader (separate)

Type: NSFW and SFW hcs (celebrating your birthday)

A/n: I do apologize not writing Arlecchino, I'm really not good with her I didn't want to ruin it

La Signora

SFW

She'd spoil and please you the whole day. She has been planning for your birthday for months, she will do everything perfectly and give you the best day ever. It would start with her bringing breakfast for you in bed, and everything is handmade by her. She doesn't generally cook as she has maids in her mansion, but today she will show you all her cooking skills (spoiler, she's amazing literally even better than the maids).

Will give you so many kisses right in the morning then bathe together. She basically wants to be together the whole time, she cleared her schedule for you and she will make the best use of it. She prefers to keep things more private, so there won't be a loud and lavish birthday bash but just you two being together and doing things.

She'll take you out for a picnic! It'll be a very calm and beautiful place surrounded by flowers and just overall serenity. She'll lay your head on her lap and sing for you, will lovingly gaze at you from above and caress your hair then watch you nap and she'll continue her humming. Don't forget she packed lunch for you too! Will handfeed you and tease you by showing some affection in public

And if all this wasn't enough already, she will even take you out for dinner. Now this one will be a lavish and expensive place, she'll wear your favorite dress and gift you a new suit as well. The restaurant is still private, it'll be a high-class meal but you can't deny you loved her handmade dishes the most. Oh, and even more teasing at the restaurant. She's so seductive in public, she gets you riled up for later~

NSFW

She will please you sexually many times during the day. in the morning, she'll give you a handjob after waking you up. But nothing more than a handjob, she knows you want more but she'll intentionally edge you. During bath too she'll rub her body all over you, her hands and boobs are all over the place and she'll kiss you a lot but as soon as you try to do more she'll hold you in place with a simple "Hold your urges, tiger....There's plenty of time~"

At dinner she'll tease you under the table by rubbing your dick with her foot. She's just preparing you for the main attraction later. When you reach home, she can tell you are ready to pounce at her but she still makes you wait. She'll reward your patience diligently, don't worry.

The entire night is spent with her overstimulating you. She edged you the whole day, now she'll make up for it. She'll suck you off so well as if milking you dry, she'll tie your hands to the bedpost and ride you telling you to fill her up. She'd even give you a boobjob, she knows how much you love it.

She'll get particularly feisty later when she puts a collar and leash on you, tugging you forward when she finally gives you some control and lets you fuck her as you want. You may be on top now but she's pulling the leash and controlling how deep or fast you go. She'll contract her walls as your dick thrusts inside her, gripping you so tight with full intention of milking you.

Chameleon

SFW

She won't prepare much in advance; she knows when your birthday is ofc but she prefers doing whatever you want to for the whole day. She'll let you speak your desires, or just find them on her own by looking inside your mind.

She'll make it as if she planned these things when in reality, she saw them inside your mind and decided to fulfill them. It'll be one of the few days she listens to your needs and tries to make you happy. She's not enthusiastic about it, but she doesn't mind it when you enjoy.

She'll not go to work if you want, she'll stay with you as you want. Want to go out? Sure, she will take you. Maybe a movie and dinner date? Alright, no issues. That's the kind of attitude she'd have, and she can't deny she likes seeing you happy. She'll secretly buy a gift at a shop when you are looking elsewhere, she'll give it to you later.

NSFW

Similarly, for sex too she'll do what you want for once. She's usually the one dominating but today she'll listen to you, irrespective of whether she becomes bottom or not. Oh, but she sees you like it when she tops? Sure, she'll do exactly that. Tie you up and blindfold you, ride you to her heart's content and not let you cum until she says.

You want to top her? Fine, she'll allow it today only cause you'll be happy. So you better get to fucking her already, put her on fours and pound into her sopping cunt. Literally do any position; doggy, prone bone, mating press, she'll let you do everything today.

Will give you cleanup blowjob too, which just lets you fuck her face even more. Oh, but she realizes she kind of like this. It's not bad letting you dom her once in a while. By the end, she'll milk you so well and be overstimulated herself. She planned to let you have your pleasure first, but if you like it this way then she's not complaining.

Cabernet

SFW

She will throw a grand celebration for you, a big birthday bash inviting all celebrities and Eastside dignitaries. There'll be a grand feast of all the kinds of food you like, everything made by her hand-picked top tier chefs. She will make you feel so special, because she knows your soul would taste exquisite when you are this well fed.

She's so dignified and elegant in front of others, maintaining her reputation as a top-notch food connoisseur. She will also brag about you to others, praising you as a partner and making you flustered in front of everyone. She'll even dance with you, just to keep up appearances of you being a perfectly normal couple.

NSFW

Oh, she's going to tease and rile you up so much during the party. She'll pull you into a balcony and get on her knees to give you a blowjob right then and there. You may be hidden but her sultry sounds couldn't make it more obvious what was happening. She loves it when you pull her hair and bury yourself deeper into her mouth, essentially fucking her throat.

If balcony wasn't enough, she'll pull you into the dining area where the maids were preparing to serve dinner. They'll leave on her command; she picks up a peculiar fruit and feeds it to you mouth-to-mouth, it's sweet and refreshing. Little do you know it had aphrodisiac properties.... Now you have her bent on the dining table as you fuck her from behind relentlessly.

And don't forget the bathroom.... She'll 'accidentally' spill some wine on your clothes then take you away to clean it, only to rip away your suit and fish out your cock for her to pump it and milk you dry. Pick her up against the sink and cum inside her again, all the while she drinks the wine in her hand and tells you to fuck her deeper.

Later at night when everything is over, she'll have some food play with you. But this time, you get to decorate her with all sorts of ingredients and dine on her. Oh, the way she moans as your tongue glides down her body and eats her out, the way she arches up when you press an ice cube to her nipples....She can't wait for when you mount her and fuck her out of her mind for the rest of the night.

#genshin impact #path to nowhere #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #la signora #signora x reader #genshin women #genshin x reader #la signora x reader #chameleon #chameleon x reader #cabernet #cabernet x reader #ptn x reader

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domesticandlovingmonsters · 1 day

Text

Pick Your Romance Starter- Dark Fae Addition

Plot/Story: Oh no, you've fallen into the Fae Realm through a circle of mushrooms. How convenient, I mean inconvenient! And look, there's some hot Fae men wanting you're attention...how so very clique. But they're not all flowers and sunshine. That would be too damn easy, wouldn't it?

Warnings: Dark Fae, slight non-con touch, blood, 10k words

Notes: The dry-spell has finally worn off and I present to you a little morsel of writing.

This is all based on a world built together with a friend. The characters are OCs of mine we play with and use in our stories together. And for your amusement, and torture for my friend, I have started a series where you pick which one I write for first.

This will be a heavy female x male character story. I apologize to my MxM and FxF readers. But I do plan on making these three fuck eventually. Just because it's fun.

I'll start a poll in a few days on my Patreon to see which character you'd all like to see written for first.

And by all means, give me ideas and feedback. I crave the attention!

Enjoy!

The sharp iron-like smell filled your senses and you felt yourself falling. The warm night air turned bitterly cold and the light from the street disappeared into a wall of black. You blinked. The wind whooshing around you was as loud as a hurricane; before your feet slammed onto stone and you stumbled into something hard and cold. And everything went unnaturally quiet.

You opened your eyes. Blinking rapidly to remove the haziness from your vision as you reached out, calling for your friend. It was dark. Too dark for your eyes just yet.

Your fingers found the cold bars of something circling you. Your hand followed it until you pushed away and stood on your own two feet. Swaying a little, the alcohol still affected your body even as the adrenaline coursed through you.

Finally, after some more blinking and squinting into the dark, your eyes adjusted. And horror filled your stomach as you looked around you.

You were in a cage. An iron cage in the center of a dark room. The floor, the pillars, the walls, all made from gray, smoothed stone. Dust layered the ground like a blanket around your small prison. And thick, but empty, cobwebs lined the corners of the room.

It didn’t look like anyone had been in here for…a very long time.

Your eyes caught the faintest touch of blue light on the floor and you looked down. Finding a glowing ring of sigils carved into the floor, fully encircling your cage. And everytime you moved, the strange letters pulsed with energy and that sharp smell filled your nose once more.

Something in you whispered that it was the same diameter of the mushroom circle you had jumped into… And with that thought, horror filled you. It had happened. It actually…worked. But not in the way you expected.

You don’t know how long you stood in that cage for, calling out into the darkness. It was long enough that the effects of tonight's drinks had worn off and the feeling of dehydration was starting to kick in.

The cold of the room settled on your skin like ice. And you tried to huddle up as much as you could, trying to preserve as much body heat as possible. But the cold iron and the freezing stone was sapping away at your warmth like a hungry beast.

Eventually, just as you started to think you’d be in this dark room forever, a door opened. One you didn’t see at the far end of the room that spilled bright, warm sunlight into the shadows. Making the twilight scatter and your eyes hurt from the blinding rays.

“Well, well, well, I thought all my little traps had been sealed off.” A velvety voice echoed from the doorway. The very sound settled on your skin like the breeze of an autumn afternoon. “What a surprise, indeed.”

Something shifted to your right but when you looked, only darkness stared back. Hiding behind a stone pillar, escaping the bright morning light.

You blinked until the sunlight stopped blinding you and the stranger approached. His boots echoed in the empty room as he closed the distance. His face silhouetted by the soft glow of the blue circle at his feet.

He was handsome. Very handsome. The type of handsome you would take a second glance at because you weren’t sure if your brain properly processed his face. His hair was a slight mess, a dark but silky tangle of blonde and deep brown. Matching a gaze that was fixed, but curious. And you felt every inch of your skin alight with a cold fire when those copper coloured eyes raked over your body. Not an inch of you was left untouched by his gaze. And it left you a little breathless when he smiled.

But your mind was racing. A voice deep within your mind was telling you to run. To hide. Get away from this man and never look back.

“What’s your name, sweet thing?” The man asked. The softest curl of a smirk twitching the corner of his lips.

But you didn’t give it. You weren’t stupid. And you remembered what happened. You jumped into a ring of mushrooms and suddenly you were falling. Even if you could blame this on a drunken dream, you still didn’t give this man your name.

When you didn’t reply, the smirk stretched fully across the stranger's face. “Ah, so you’re smart. That’s cute. I haven’t had a smart one in a long time. Come along, then. Let’s get you cleaned up. You’re exactly what I need to make up for my little blunder last night.”

The cage groaned around you and three of the metal bars slid into the ground. Allowing you a doorway to step out of your small prison and into the stream of light from the door.

The stranger didn’t look at you as he led the way out of the cold stone room. But still addressed you as you stepped out into the light. “My apologies for leaving you in that cold room all night. We had a little…accident, and I was busy until this morning.”

The man led you into a long corridor of more stone. Though the temperature was vastly more welcoming than the room, it was just as empty and just as dusty. You passed many doors like the one from where you landed. Some were left open, revealing more empty areas with a single cage. Others were closed but something dark marked the metal entryway. It looked suspiciously like old blood.

If this stranger saw you staring, he didn’t give any move to answer your unspoken questions. He led you up a spiraling staircase and a door of heavy carved wood and granite, creaked open before he touched it. Opening up into a sprawling room of many desks and shelves and cabinets.

“Clean her.” The stranger said. And from beneath the desks, dark tendrils launched towards you. Black, clawed hands wrapped around your wrists and ankles. Icy cold fingers latched onto your throat, squeezing just enough to silence the scream of fright from your lungs. Iron strength yanked you forward, making your attempts at fleeing fruitless as you were dragged towards a large basin.

More arms of shadows rose from the stone floor and you watched as steaming hot water was poured into the tub. Buckets of water manifesting from darkness and then disappearing when dropped to the floor.

You didn’t get to take a breath before you were lifted and then dumped into the basin. Hot water burned your skin and drenched your clothes. You gasped for air, but a cold hand slammed your head back under the water and you felt harsh bristles scrape over your bare skin. Something sweet smelling poured onto your hair as your head was yanked back out of the water for a brief moment

You coughed and spluttered, barely getting a breath in before you were dunked back into the water.

Your clothes were torn away. Despite your best effort to keep them against your skin, the material ripped apart under the strength of these shadowy limps. You wrapped your arms around your chest, obscuring the man’s beautiful gaze from seeing too much.

His smile was too sweet. Too wide as you were finally released and you turned your back to him. Your skin burned from the brush and soap. Your hair felt silky and smelled like a field of freshly bloomed flowers. But you were completely bare in front of him.

“That’s much better.” The man said. Leaning against a desk nearby. His molten gaze took in every inch of you before he waved his hand and a shadow presented him with a dress. “Wear this. It suits you much better than…whatever else you were wearing.”

When you didn’t get out of the tub, the man sighed and rolled his eyes. Then he turned around so he was leaning against the desk with his palms on the surface of the table. “I won’t look. Go on, try it on.”

You hesitated. But already the water was starting to get cold and you couldn’t sit in here forever. Curled up and shivering. You sighed heavily and carefully slipped out of the water.

Another shadow appeared beside you with a towel. But it didn’t allow you to take it. Instead, it dried you off, harshly rubbing the soft material against your body until your skin felt sore from the material. But dry.

You grumbled a curse towards the man and snatched the dress from the floating shadow.

Surprisingly, the man kept his word and didn’t turn around. Until you were in the dress and staring down at yourself in horror.

The material was thin…extremely thin… You might as well stand in front of him naked without the gentle glimmer of the sparkly dress. And it was very tight. You could see every curve of your breasts and hips, down to your thighs before the dress spilled out around your feet like a bronze ink spill. The only saving grace to this material was that it darkened around your chest and lower center. Refusing to give a full, clean picture of your body that was hidden beneath the dress.

It didn’t stop the perked peaks of your nipples from the cold air. And the stranger hummed a low sound in his throat as he adjusted the sleeve of the dress and picked at some imaginary lint on your waist.

“Much, much better.” The man said. He started to circle you. His eyes scraped over your body as you stood frozen under his gaze. He picked at the dress and the shadows appeared with trinkets and jeweled chains. Your wrists were wrapped in silk and your neck was decorated by a thin, delicate silver chain with topaz stones resting warmly against your neck. A belt of lace loosely circled your hips and your cheeks were assaulted by a dusting of red. Giving you a small blush before cold hands grabbed your face and the man stepped closer.

His forefinger lengthened, growing a black claw that came to a dangerously pointed tip. And you tried to yank yourself away from him but the shadows held you firmly in place. You could only watch in growing horror as the dark talon descended towards your eye…and cautiously drew a line along your upper lashes. Then the man delicately did the same on the other. Giving you a perfect dark eye-liner flick.

The man then stood back. His other hand held your chin as he tilted your face back and forth, admiring the touches he did to you. The shadows relaxed when you did. And you allowed this stranger to do what he wished with your face.

“What’s your name?” You asked him. Finding this close proximity with the handsome face was filling your chest with sharp flutters. You could see the finer details. The sharp, pointed ears. The tattoos under the collar of his shirt and the dusting of gold along his face. Perhaps a decorative choice?

“Jackal Borcalas, Royal Archivist and Spy Master of the Wilds” His smile was predatory. Proud. Cocky. As if the widening of your eyes gave him a sense of smugness. “But Jackal is fine, sweet thing. And yours?”

He said it so casually you almost willingly gave it to him. Like carrying on a normal conversation. But you clapped your mouth shut and glared up at Jackal. Rewarding yourself with a laugh from the Spy Master.

“Ah, well, you can’t blame a man for trying.” Jackal said, shrugging. Then his hands moved from your face down to your body. Adjusting chains and bracelets and anything else the shadows had placed on you.

But you found his hand barely touched you. His fingers brushed over your hips but didn’t linger for too long. The pads of his fingers glossed over your perked nipples but his eyes didn’t stray any longer than they needed. His attention was too focused on his task that you doubted he even knew where he was touching.

“Gorgeous.” Jackal purred. And despite the hungry look in his eyes, you sensed the genuine compliment behind his words. Or was that just a…Fae thing to get you comfortable around him. “Now, a few things before I throw you to the wolves.”

You felt the blood drain from your face with his words. And that wicked smile returned, alongside the cold touch of shadows as they wrapped around your legs and started moving them. You felt like a doll on strings, puppeteered after Jackal as he turned and exited the room.

Your captor led you into more corridors and halls. Many stone steps and coloured glass windows that bathed you in greens and golds and bronze. You didn’t get to look around. The shadows had you transfixed on watching Jackal’s back as he walked through…wherever you were.

“If you want to live through the day, you will follow these rules to the absolute letter. Do not look directly into his eyes. He gets…crabby when you do it for too long. And keep your hands off of him unless he places them somewhere. He doesn’t like to be touched. Do not turn your back on him unless he tells you to do so, and for the love of the Moon, do not touch his horns. Just…keep your hands to yourself unless you’re ordered otherwise.” Jackal said all this while he led you towards a massive metal door. The shadows relieved their hold just enough that you could finally look around you. But your gaze was transfixed on the entrance before you.

Towering above you was a grotesque, twisted display of melted weapons and armor. Swords Maces Axes Shields Any and all kinds had been liquified against the doors. You spotted helmets and chest plates carved through with spears. All dented, all worn, from battle.

“Oh, and also, for my later entertainment, keep yourself alive.” Jackal whispered, looking over your shoulder at him. “We haven’t had a human here in…centuries. So try to make your stay last a little longer than a few minutes.”

With a wave of Jackal’s hand, the war-torn doors opened with an ear-clawing sound of metal on the stone floor.

A blast of heat slammed into you as a voice as deep as thunder growled from within a dimly lit room. “What do you want, snake?” Your very bones vibrated with the voice. And a knot of fear coiled in your stomach as Jackal entered the room.

The shadows had you follow him and you entered a room that was more like a throne room. It was a vast space of furs and blankets. Blazing fires were cradled in braziers along the walls and candles flickered on hanging chandeliers made of bone and skulls. The scent of sulfur and burning meat filled your nose and you tried not to gag as you passed a body laying on the floor. Three deep gashes tore up the person’s back and blood pooled around their limp body. Their face twisted in agony and terror.

Jackal didn’t even look at it. He continued to stroll into the heated room towards a pile of furs and hides.

“I brought you a gift.” Jackal said. His voice echoing in the massive room. Mixing with the heavy breathing of something huge in front of you. The shadows didn’t let you go. They kept you firmly in place behind Jackal.

Something sniffed the air. And you felt the very air around you shift with each deep breath. You started shaking as the tiled floor trembled. The blast of heat came closer and closer. The heat in the room roared and you felt like your arms were being scorched by a blazing fire. Your ears popped and the tremble through the floor halted, but you heard the distinct sound of bare feet stepping over tile towards you.

And then Jackal stepped to the side and you were suddenly staring at a broad chest of muscle and scales.

The shadows released your head. Allowing you to look up, almost craning your neck all the way back, to meet a burning red gaze of a man. He was massive, much taller than 6ft and broad, rippling with muscle. Scars streaked across his arms and chest, giving a stark pale contrast to his dark complexion. A creature of war and battle.

But what was more terrifying was the plating of black scales that protruded from his dark skin. Horns swept out from atop his head. Splitting apart thick, shiny black hair that was braided amongst the crown of thick spikes. And his gaze was heavy. Watching. Calculating.

Jackal tsked harshly and you quickly dropped your eyes. Remembering what Jackal had said only moments before.

The man in front of you growled, a deep rumble that rippled through you like thunder. “A human?” A voice of stone sounded surprised. And you flinched when a massive hand wrapped around your waist, his fingers almost completely encircling your hips, and yanked you closer.

Black scales filled your vision as the man buried his nose into your hair. You felt him take a deep breath and the growl turned into something like a broken purr as the man laughed a cynical chuckle. “Is this your way of saying sorry, snake?” The scaled man snapped at Jackal. Releasing you before stalking over to the much smaller man.

Despite their size difference, and the display of bared teeth from the other man, Jackal remained perfectly calm. His hands resting behind his back as if he was having a casual conversation with someone.

“This is my way of mending my mistake.” Jackal replied slowly. “Hezirus will want her for himself. But I thought you should get some time with her before she’s claimed entirely. I thought it would be a nice…treat, Maahes, from me to you. From a friend.”

That word brought a snarl out of Maahes. Like he didn’t like how it sounded coming out of Jackal’s mouth. “Watch it, snake. You almost cost me my territory last night. A morsel won’t make up for that blunder.”

“Then let it be the start of my amendment to you.” Jackal titled his chin down in a submissive display. And whatever rage Maahes had, seemed to melt away. You felt the sharp tang of something hit your nose and suddenly the beast in front of you roared.

Claws raked through the marble pillar where Jackal had been standing moments before. Then you felt the shadows retreat and Jackal was standing in the doorway behind you. An amused smile across his lips

Maahes roared again, crimson eyes glowing with a surge of anger. “Keep your filthy magic out of my head!”

The doors slammed closed with a thunderous bang as Jackal laughed. Leaving you alone with a creature that was practically shaking with rage.

Your eyes swooped to the floor when the beast looked at you. You heard the click of claws as he approached. Two dark tree trunks entered your view and you realized he was standing right in front of you. He at least wasn’t naked, wearing a loose pair of dark trousers. But the thin dress did very little to make you feel protected at this moment.

“What is your name?” Maahes asked. You didn’t respond, cowering in front of him. The beast snarled and a rough grip wrapped around the underside of your jaw and forced you to look up at him. You kept your gaze from staring into the pools of rubies, looking at the scar that carved down his neck and to his collarbone. “I am not a Fairy, sweet morsel. I won’t use your name against you. What do I call you?”

You felt him lift you a little. Until you were standing on your tiptoes to stop him from choking you. “(y/n)” You managed to say. And the grip released you.

“Get me a drink, (y/n).” Your name rolled on his tongue like he was tasting you through those words. It sounded awfully sinful to hear it. And you quickly hurried over to the table by the dead body. Where an array of goblets and bottles were laid out. You choose the largest cup and fill it with an amber liquid. You had to carry it with both hands to ensure it didn’t spill and didn’t strain one arm too much. Hurrying back to Maahes, who had returned to lounge on the pile of furs. Which even his massive frame seemed to be swallowed by the vast mattress of pelts.

The beast rumbled. But it wasn’t an aggressive sound. You almost thought he sounded pleased as you carefully climbed onto the furs and offered him the wine. He took the cup from your hands. And as he pressed the wine to his lips, his free hand lashed out and took purchase of your hips before you attempted to step away.

You couldn’t fight him. The amount of strength beneath those fingers alone was enough to pull you towards him with barely any effort.

You found yourself flush against his side. His scales, rough and jagged, pushed painfully against your soft skin. And once you were positioned how he wanted, the hand moved down to cup your ass. His talons caught on the material of your dress as he squeezed hard. Making you wince a little.

“How did the snake manage to catch you?” Maahes asked. Placing his cup precariously on a position of the bed as he moved so he was on top of you. His nose scraped against your neck and you felt his teeth playfully pull at the silver chain around your throat. “Trapping humans was outlawed centuries ago. Did he say some pretty words and you were suddenly here? Or did you fall through a mirror?”

His words were surprisingly teasing for how rough his hands were on your body. The pads of his fingers were calloused and coarse, sweeping along your thighs before moving you so he could settle between your legs. He was massive above you. Obscuring the ceiling and bone chandeliers with his mass.

You explained what happened. Recalling the ring of mushrooms on the side of the walkway on your way home. The stupid decision to test fate and jump into the circle. Laughing, thinking nothing would come of it. And then accidentally said ‘we’ jumped in, and those crimson eyes pulsed intensely.

“There’s two of you?” Maahes asked. Glancing at the door as if Jackal was about to come through it again with another person. You said you didn’t see your friend in the cage and the man shrugged. Returning his mouth to the hollow of your neck. His lips sending goosebumps along your skin as his hot breath bathed along your chest.

It was a long moment of licking and hard nips along your neck before Maahes changed position. Burying his face against your breasts. Even through the dress, you could feel his mouth hungrily take in your left nipple and rake his tongue over the peak.

“No matter. I’ll feast on you first before I worry about someone else's pet.” You felt him shift against you and something huge and hard pressed against your clothed core. Then Maahes raised his mouth and a burning hot tongue seared along your neck, carrying the smell of wine and meat along your flesh, up to your cheek before your lips were harshly trapped between Maahes’.

Your struggling only seemed to amuse Maahes. As you tried to push him off and twist away from him. But just as he forced your lips open with his tongue, the doors to the room blasted open in a cold gust of wind. The flames around you simmered out under the gust and the chandeliers swung wildly above you.

Maahes growled and tore his mouth from yours. He poised above you like a beast protecting a kill. Thick arms caging you against the bed as the sound of his snarl ripped through you. You could feel the vibrations through your core, from where his covered bulge was firmly pressed against your core.

You turned your head, peering around Maahes’ arms to see a gorgeous man standing in the streaming sunlight. Like an angel, wings of bronze and gold framed his tall figure and a thick set of arms were crossed over his chest. Lines crinkled his perfect brow and long chocolate brown hair was kept away from his face by a gold crown of gnarled vines and flowers.

“Maahes,” The man said the beast’s name like a warning. But his tone was playful, teasing. “What have you got there?”

Maahes’ snarl crumbled into a softer sound. But he didn’t move from atop of you. His talons ripped into the furs as his hands turned to fists beside your body. “She’s mine.”

“Not anymore she isn’t.” The angel said. Stepping into the dark room, closer to the creature that was bent low over your frozen body. “I caught her scent on my way to breakfast. I don’t know how Jackal got her, but she’s a guest in my palace. I won’t have you break her on her first morning here.”

Soft, bronze eyes fell upon you and his smile softened. But those warning bells in your head were singing again. Even more so than they had with Jackal. “Give her to me, Maahes.” The man said, his wings opening a touch to make him seem so much bigger than he was. “I won’t ask again.”

The beast above you growled deep and threatening. You braced for something to happen. Another gust of wind. A fist. Claws. Something.

But then the heavy, hot weight of Maahes disappeared as he crawled off of you. And you scrambled off the bed to stand beside the winged man. Hiding behind him as his wing opened to protect you from Maahes’ heated gaze. “Good boy.” The crowned stranger said. A very careful smile placed over his lips. “Do not let me catch you playing with her again.”

Maahes’ gaze lowered to the furs. But you could see the tension in his body and the thick, throbbing vein that was protruding from his neck. He bowed. “Yes, Prince Hezirus.”

That seemed to be enough for the…prince. And he turned, his wing shifting to envelope you in a warm embrace against your back and guiding you out of the room.

The heavy doors slammed shut behind you both. And the wings of the prince moved to lazily return to his back. A different type of heat simmered in his gaze when the prince turned to you. A striking difference from the softness he offered you before. “Now, human, you will tell me how you got here. And why you’re…dressed the way you are.” Despite the quizzical tone, Prince Hezirus’ eyes were just as hungry and heavy as Jackal’s when you first got dressed. You instinctively tried to cover yourself but a narrowed glare from the person in front of you made you halt.

Your arms dropped to your sides as you explained everything. But this time, you kept the ‘we’ out of it. Only insinuating that you alone jumped into the very obvious Fae trap.

“But you know our customs,” The prince hummed. Tilting his head like how a dog did when it was intrigued by something. “You won’t give me your name. You even called the circle a trap. So…you knew what it was.”

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment. The drunken stupor of a joke was now very obviously a suicide sentence. “I didn’t think it would work.” You argued. “I was…drunk.”

“Superstition has kept your people alive longer than you’d think. You should start listening to your fable stories, there’s a reason they exist.” The prince began walking and you hurried to follow. The tall man, possibly as tall as the beast on the furs, didn’t shorten his strides to let you keep up. Instead, you had to fasten your steps to almost jog alongside him.

“Where am I?” You asked. Finally looking at your surroundings. There were large paintings that covered the towering walls. The ceiling looked like marble with many hanging candles and torches to illuminate what the sun couldn’t. Massive glass windows bathed your walk with the prince in color. But at least this time you could see the shapes of beasts and battles and fields of flowers as you passed them.

It was all very beautiful.

“You’re in the Fae Wilds. My kingdom.” The prince replied. His chin tilted up with pride as he spoke. “I am Prince Hezirus of the Wilds. Son of Queen Melusine, the Lady of the Forest. You’re in my palace in the deepest forest of our kingdom. My…holiday home, I guess you would call it.”

You stalled for a moment to peek through one of the windows. Spying the grounds of the estate that sprawled out in grassy knolls and flowing creeks that sliced through lush gardens and tumbled through the gnarled roots of mountainous trees.

There were people working in the gardens and some walked the earthy paths through the estate. Someone even started flying into the branches of a nearby tree. With wings like an insect.

A soft cough from the prince made you turn. Finding him standing by the cliff of a long stairwell that led down and into the center of the palace. You quickly hurried back to his side and started descending next to him.

“It’s beautiful.” You said. Unable to keep your eyes on one thing at a time. A man walked past you both, bowing deeply to the prince before walking briskly away. His features reminded you of a rat.

“Thank you. But you will have time to see everything soon. I want you to join me for breakfast.” The prince said. And you followed him down a corridor and into a grand hall. A long table was presented before you. Its surface was chock-full of plates and bowls of food. All steaming, like the dishes had just come out of the oven.

At the end of the table sat a beautifully crafted chair of twisted roots and vines. The cushions looked as soft as clouds and a plate of sourdough bread, bathed in eggs and bacon with a drizzle of white sauce, was sitting awaiting the prince.

Hezirus waved his hand and a chair pulled itself from the table next to the prince. And Hezirus gestured for you to sit, before he flicked his hand and the chair pushed you snugly against the table. A plate was placed in front of you by an owl-faced woman and the prince seated himself in his chair.

Leaning his cheek on his fist, propped up by his elbow on the table, he watched you curiously. “Please, eat. Enjoy.”

The smells of everything laid out in front of you was maddening. Your stomach twisted in hunger and the slight hangover that had plagued you with a headache, wished for water. But you didn’t reach for any of it. And watched the prince take his gaze off you just enough to take a bite out of his egg smothered bread slice.

“So now you start to believe in your fables?” The prince asked. An amused smile twitching his lips as he chewed. “I do not need to charm you to keep you here, lovely thing. You may eat freely. This food is not poisoned and untouched by magic. Other than what is needed to prepare certain dishes.”

You still didn’t reach for anything. Not even the water. Which sat chilled in a glass pitcher in front of you. Like it was teasing you. You shook your head. “Thank you. But I’ll skip breakfast.”

The prince’s eyes flashed gold and suddenly you were reaching for the water. You tried with all your might to stop yourself from pouring a glass, but your hands worked just like they did when the shadows had hold of you.

Puppeteered.

Helpless.

You tried to cry out as your fingers brought the glass of water to your lips. But your body defied you. And you sipped cleanly, without choking, a long draught of water down your parched throat. Once you had placed the glass down you felt your body return to your control and you stood. Almost knocking the chair over as you jerked away from the table.

“Like I said, I do not need to charm you to make you stay.” The prince said. As if you had asked about the weather. So casually glossing over what he just did. “Your tales of us are true…in some sense. But we hold more power than we allowed you to believe. Please. Eat. You look like you’re about to pass out. And I won’t tell you again. You won’t like it if I have to do it myself.”

It was true. You could feel the edge of your mind falling into a dizzy spiral. And the thought of you passing out in front of him made the hunger turn to fear. You shook your head, clearing it, and sat down before your legs gave out. And begrudgingly served yourself some pancakes.

And it was the best thing you’ve ever eaten. Whether it was because of hunger, or the Fae chefs, it was delicious. Even the fruit you ate was sweet and juicy. Perfect. Also too perfect.

But if you didn’t eat, you were sure he’d probably force you too. So, you gave in. As much as the logical side of the brain was screaming at you to stop.

The prince’s gaze never left your lips as you ate. His eyes were persistently on you, even as he devoured his own breakfast and poured a cup of something that smelled strongly of coffee.

“Did Jackal explain anything to you before he shoved you into a room with a horny Drake?” The prince asked. An eyebrow raising when you told him of the rules Jackal gave you. And you added on that you were meant to be a treat, as a means of amendment from Jackal.“At least he wanted you to live through the morning. And yes, Jackal made a small mistake last night. Maahes exaggerates, it wasn’t so bad he’d lose his territory. He’s just angry he lost a bet at all. You were lucky I found you before Maahes went too far. I do enjoy it when Maahes is rough with me. But your delicate body would snap apart the moment he pulls down his pants.”

The rush of heat that exploded in your body, crawling up your neck and into your cheeks made the prince chuckle. “That’s adorable. But also very dangerous. Don’t do that around Maahes. If he gets whiff that you’re into things like him, you’ll be chained to his hips and riding his cock until your body breaks.”

You tried to argue. Maybe say something that it wasn’t arousal, but shock at the prince’s choice of words. But the prince shot you a look that silenced your rebuttal before it began. “I can smell it on you, pet. Don’t even try lying to my face. It won’t end well for you.” His words carried a threat that made your skin crawl with a chill. Even if his tone was light and teasing. Something in his gaze had your heart racing.

“What are you going to do to me?” You asked. You wanted to know, so you could at least brace for whatever was about to happen to you. How many books have you read about similar scenarios? You had the hot, sexy men part ticked off. A strange, weird place in the Fae realm, checked. But this wasn’t a romance. You were just left to the mercy of a creature with scales. Given a hint at the power that could make you do anything the man in front of you wanted.

Your life very much was in danger right now.

“Hmm, I’m not sure yet.” The prince said. Leaning back in his chair as he regarded you with a critical eye. Like he was appraising a piece of art. “But I’m sure you’re asking if I’m going to kill you. Eat your bones. Turn you into a…I don’t know. What do we Fae do to humans? It’s been centuries since I’ve talked to one. But you never forget the scent.” The prince breathed in deeply and released it slowly with a long sigh. When his eyes opened, his pupils were blown wide like he was intoxicated.

“Such a delicious fragrance. It used to drive me mad in my youth. The lust. The hunger. Oh, fuck, the sex…” The prince finally looked at you again. As if suddenly remembering you were there and had asked a question. “No, dear pet, I am not going to kill you. Some of my court might try. But I’ve already ordered them that you are to be untouched. Left only for me to squeeze.”

He flashed you a smile that made his already handsome face become even more beautiful. “Anyone that tries to force themselves on you will meet my wrath. You are welcome to wander the palace. I do suggest staying as far away from Maahes as possible. And don’t go into the gardens until-”

“If I may, Hez.” The sudden voice of Jackal made you jump as he appeared by your side. Seeming to appear out of thin air as he joined you at the table. Sitting to your right. “I suggest we keep her caged until the staff and court get used to the scent of her in the estate. Already there has been enough unrest that Maahes has had his fill of Fae blood. She will be safer in the dungeons until you solidify the order for her to remain untouched.”

The prince played with the fabric of his tunic as he thought over Jackal’s words. His eyes following the line of your neck to your shoulders and then to the material that smothered your breasts into a perfect soft mound. “You make a good point, Jackal. However…because it was your trap that brought her here, she is your responsibility.”

Jackal’s jaw twinged as he glanced at you. “Hez, I cannot afford to be distracted from my work. I cannot continuously check on her in the cells-”

“Then have her in your office until you ensure she won’t be touched down there.” The prince smiled. A sense of amusement flashing over his face as he winked at you. “Jackal will take fine care of you until I have time for you, pet. Stay close to him and do what he says.”

A sharp scent ripped through your nose and you winced as your mind latched onto the words the prince spoke. An order. An order given by a Fae prince laced with…magic.

“I don’t think she’s stupid enough to try and run from me.” Jackal said. Sighing heavily as he took a sausage from one of the plates and took a bite from it. “Come on then, Lily. Time to watch me do paperwork for hours on end.”

“Lily?” Hezirus asked as Jackal stood. You felt your body follow suit. But it wasn’t anything like the cold touch of shadows or the constricting power from Hezirus. You wanted to follow Jackal. You were told to do as he said, and damn well you will do it.

“It’s not her name.” Jackal assured the prince. “She’s as lovely as a lily. So, that’s what I’ll call her.”

“Hmm, I don’t think that suits her.” Hezirus said thoughtfully. Tilting his head as he looked you up and down again.

“Well, she’s your pet. You pick a name for her.” Then Jackal smiled viciously and tapped the tip of your nose. “Or are you going to introduce yourself?”

When your glare was the only reply they got, the two men laughed and Jackal clicked his tongue. You followed him like a puppy on a leash, up many staircases and through many corridors. Until you found yourself back in the room you started in. Where the basin had now been emptied of water but the room still smelled of the shampoo in your hair.

“Sit.” Jackal ordered. And your body slumped into a wooden chair by a large desk. One that was covered in many long pieces of parchment and piles of books. A few empty ink pots were put to the side. While a stack of new ones awaited to be used. “You might want to get comfortable. You’re going to be here for a while.”

You looked around. Attempting to get comfortable in the wooden chair next to Jackal’s desk. Much unlike the plush, armchair-like seat he possessed, the wood was hard against your ass and the surface cold to the touch.

A few minutes passed as Jackal opened a few books and arranged them to stand in small holders to keep them open. He arranged paper out in front of him and then opened a thick, leather bound book by his left hand. You tapped your fingernails against the wood of the chair. Already insane from the quiet of the room.

“Can I have a book or something?” You asked. And Jackal scoffed a laugh.

“I doubt I have anything here that you can read. It’s all documents and spellbooks; all in languages you can’t read.” Jackal waited for you to argue. But when you didn’t give a rebuttal about knowing more languages than one, he left it to rest. “If you’d like to pass the time, you’re more than welcome to pass the time on me.” The smile was playful. Menacingly teasing as he smirked at you when your cheeks flushed pink.

“You’re not going to order me to do that?” You asked scornfully. And Jackal shrugged, plucking a quill from its seat in an ink pot and started writing.

“I could. Since Hezirus gave you the order to do whatever I say. Or I could force you to do it with my servants. But it’s not as much fun when the giver uses teeth and tries drawing blood every second.” At the word ‘servants’ the shadows from beneath the desks nearby came alive and crawled over the floor towards you. You pulled your dress away from the curious clawed hands and the room filled with whispered laughter as you gasped in horror.

Jackal tsked and the shadows scattered. Returning to being nothing more than dark spots under the desks. “Now hush, I have to concentrate.”

You must have dozed off somewhere after the third hour mark of sitting and doing nothing. The room was bitterly cold now and you shifted in your seat. Trying to find a comfortable position when a touch of fire brushed over your thigh.

You jerked awake. Startling when you came face to face with Jackal. Who had turned his chair towards you and was sitting almost directly between your legs. Both of his hands were coiled around your right thigh. Molding the cool skin with his fingers so gently that it almost tickled.

“Get your hands-”

“Shush, I’m thinking.” Jackal barked back. And the harshness of his voice froze you in place. Or was it the order to do as he says? You had no idea, but you knew that you were helpless in that chair as he squeezed your leg like he was kneading dough into shape. Scraping his palm along your skin through the velvety material of your dress. You had to lean back as he lifted your calf and draped your leg over his lap. You were left completely open to him in this position. But Jackal didn’t seem to notice.

He never went any higher than your upper thigh. His eyes were distant, staring at your chest but not actually paying attention to the shape of your cleavage. It was just the last place he looked before his thoughts trailed off.

You kept quiet. At least welcoming the warmth from Jackal’s lap and touch over your chilled skin.

Any longer here and you were going to freeze. You’d even welcome the harsh treatment of the hot bath just to warm you up. The dress was useless against the breeze that blew in from the open window. And the sun was beginning to go down.

Shit…have you already been here the entire day? No wonder your back was killing you.

Jackal startled you by humming and dropping your leg from his lap. Non-delicately letting your bare foot slap against the stone and you shuffled back onto the chair. He returned to his desk and started feverishly writing something down.

You stayed silent. Kicking your leg over the other to try and savor some of the tingling warmth from Jackal’s fingers. You hated how tenderly he had touched you. Because your core kind of enjoyed the attention.

The sky outside was pitch black and somewhere in the castle, you heard distant screams. It had started some hours ago and had long since lost its pitch. But the volume was still there. Telling you of the absolute agony that was ripping through someone.

“It’s no one you know.” Jackal assured you. Seeing your worried expression. “Maahes told me that there was a second human that jumped in the trap with you. And so far, I haven’t found them. Even if someone already claimed your friend, there would be traces of her. When a Fae consumes or fucks a human there’s…changes.”

That was at least comforting. But hearing such visceral cries turned your blood cold and nausea twisted in your stomach.

They were cut off rather quickly some hours after nightfall. And you weren’t sure if the silence following it was worse or better.

Jackal leaned back in his chair and stretched. Your eyes caught a glimpse of the toned body beneath the fine black tunic. But you tore your eyes away just as Jackal glanced at you.

“You’ve been rather quiet…Oh, right, I told you to shush. You can talk now. I don’t need to think for a bit.”

“I was going to say to get your hands off me.” You snapped. Suddenly finding an urge to speak now Jackal told you so. “Don’t ever touch me again.”

“But you’re so soft and warm.” Jackal practically purred. His arms hanging over the back of his chair as he stared at you. And this time, he really stared at you. With an intensity that had you looking away and a fresh wave of heat flooding your center. And that little nibble of his bottom lip was an added unfair flare.

“You’re disgusting.” You mumbled.

“I’m sure you'll change your mind eventually.” Jackal chuckled. The molten copper turned sharp once more as he returned them to the desk full of freshly scrawled paper. “If you were literate I’d have you read these so I can rest my eyes. But you’re unfortunately not that useful.”

“I can read.” You hissed and Jackal rolled his eyes. Lowering his arms so they came to rest on the desk.

“Can you read dwarvish?” Jackal asked. Then he clicked his tongue when you huffed a curse at him and turned your head away again. “Like I said, illiterate. Shame…it would have been cute having you sit on my lap while you read this over.”

“Fuck off.”

Jackal laughed and sighed. The breath was heavy as it filled his lungs. “I better get you to your cell before I let your arousal do anymore to me. Get up, little flower. And stay close. Maahes is wandering the halls looking for a chance to drag you under him again. And Hezirus is busy ensuring the court doesn’t devour you through the night. So, I’m all you have keeping you alive until we get you to your cage.”

You stood before your mind could think of doing so. And then you were walking beside Jackal through the palace, a step behind him. “What is stopping Maahes from…getting in my..cage?” It sounded weird to say. And you dearly hoped it wasn’t going to be a cage in the middle of a room like the one you appeared in.

“Hezirus.” Jackal replied, as a matter of factly. “Our prince holds alot of power. And not even a Drake as powerful as Maahes can disobey his orders while in his own home. He’ll try to lure you to his bed chambers, or the floor, I’m sure. But as long as you keep saying ‘no’, you’ll be safe.”

“That’s all that is stopping him from…you know…”

“Words hold more power here than your world, sweet flower. And Hezirus has explicitly ordered your words are the rules to your body. So, be mindful when speaking to anyone here. It might save your life.”

You trailed alongside Jackal as he took you deeper into the palace. Down even more stairs and corridors, until he stopped outside of a steel door. You weren’t stupid. This was a dungeon, deep under the palace. You could smell bile and filth from the other locked rooms. And the air was cold and thick.

But there were no guards here. Only the flickering torches along the walls and the soft, pained whimpering of the other prisoners.

“I had your cell cleaned before I brought you down here.” Jackal said. As if his words made it all better as the door to the cell opened without him touching it. Revealing a cramped, dark room. A cot was pushed into the corner. Merely a wooden pallet with hay stuffed into the crevasses and a thin blanket covering the splintering wood.

The pillow looked thin and splotched with gray marks.

“I’m going to freeze down here.” You said. Pulling at the stretchy material of your outfit. “This is barely going to keep me warm.”

“That’s Hezirus’ problem, not mine.” Jackal replied.

Then a hard cold force slammed into you and you stumbled into the cell. The door creaked shut and you heard a lock click into place. You rushed to the door as Jackal opened the little slit, allowing you to see his copper eyes through the darkness.

“Whenever Hezirus remembers his pet is down here, I’m sure he’ll provide you with all the best luxuries your little human body needs.” Jackal said with a roll of his bright eyes. “I, however, do not have time to babysit you at every minute. So, you’ll sit down here, in the dark, like a good girl until things settle. My servants swarm this place, so you’re safe. Just don’t make too much noise. Or you’ll attract some unwanted attention. Get some sleep, little flower. You’ll need it for tomorrow.”

You beat your fists against the door as the slit slid closed. Calling after Jackal in a colorful array of words and sentences. Some even got an impressed whistle out of the spy-master before you heard his boots disappear.

You retreated from the door when someone screamed from a nearby cell. The whispering laughter of shadows echoed through the darkness in response.

You went to the cot. The wood creaked under your weight as you curled up against the corner of the room. Gathering the thin blanket around you. Ignoring the itchiness from the hay and tried very hard not to think of bugs crawling in your hair or down along your arms.

You tried to stay awake. Something was moving beyond the cell door but it never came any closer. Someone would scream or start crying. Another would start begging. Only to be silenced by a harsh hiss that made your blood run cold.

You curled up tighter and closed your eyes. Hoping the sun would scatter the shadows when it rose.

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aviscarrentals · 7 hours

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Yelp • Chapter 1

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words: 1.5k

warnings: cursing, implied off"screen" deaths, injury/blood, implied character death

notes: this first chapter is mostly just exposition (and a little sad i know), but at the very end you get a sneak peak of the action before everything turns totally cray. (there will be more defined logan x parker in the future chapters as well.) parker is supposed to be the "reader" character. i decided to use a gender-neutral name instead of y/n because that's not my thing. she/her pronouns and feminine descriptions are used, but her gender is not a major plot point at all, so you can totally still read this imagining parker however you want. i hope you enjoy!

“God, it’s so weird just going right back to school like nothing’s even happened,” Parker started.

“Yeah,” Logan agreed. “Five fucking kids are dead, but science! Calculus! English!” he finished mockingly.

“Well, four,” Oscar corrected him, Lily nodding along.

Logan let out a large exhale and nodded. “Crazy he survived that shit considering how fucked up the rest of them were.”

“Well, you know what they say about quiet kids,” Arthur chimed in. The other five immediately turned to look at him in confusion.

“What?” Fred questioned incredulously.

“What?” Arthur demanded. “They’re like actually really cool and badass and stuff.”

“Huh?” Logan inquired with a furrowed brow. “I thought the thing was that they’re like… kinky and shit.”

“Mate, what the fuck?” Arthur responded defensively. “Why would I say that?”

“Well, that’s like the thing people say,” Logan bickered. “I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about, but I’ve never heard anyone say that in my entire life.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Arthur retorted, making them all burst out into laughter for a brief moment before they all returned to a somber silence when they remembered the conversation that led them here in the first place.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you to class?” Logan pressed, his pleading tone making it obvious that he was asking for his own sake instead of his girlfriend’s.

“No,” Parker laughed him off, pushing his chin off of her shoulder and his arms from around her waist. “The health room is all the way on the other side of the building. You’ll be late. Again.”

“Yeah, well-” Logan began to protest before his newest complaint was interrupted by a loud crack behind him that made the both of them jump. They turned around to see Zhou Guanyu staring back at them guiltily.

“Sorry,” he started to apologize “I just dropped-”

“Oh, no, that’s okay,” Logan interrupted, as Parker reached down to pick up the textbook that fell from his locker.

“Thank you,” he said with a shy smile when she handed it back to him.

“No problem,” she reassured him, returning the expression. “It’s the least I can do, especially considering…” She trailed off, instead gesturing to his left arm which was fully encased in a sling.

After a moment of awkward silence, the girl spoke up again. “Um, what class do you have next? I can help you carry your things,” she offered.

“Bio,” he answered, “but it’s alright,” the boy quickly added. “It’s not far, I wouldn't want you to go out of your way-”

“No, that’s perfect,” she interrupted. “I’ve got psych first period, so I’m headed to the science wing too,” she explained, lifting the heavy load from his hands, right as the morning bell rang.

“Alright,” Logan said, leaning over his girlfriend’s shoulder to give her an instinctual kiss on the cheek. “I better get going. If I’m late to Mrs. K’s class one more time I think she might beat me to death with one of the CPR dummies.”

Parker immediately bore her eyes into her boyfriend’s soul at his word choice, the poor boy not remembering his audience until the words had already left his mouth. Looking like a deer in headlights, he simply turned around and scurried off.

“Sorry,” Parker apologized once she turned back to Zhou, embarrassed.

“It’s okay,” he said, chuckling.

“Shit, we better get going or we’ll be late too.”

“You guys know Zhou, right?” Parker asked the group in front of her as she led the incapacitated boy to her customary lunch spot under the oak trees in the school courtyard. The two were met with a chorus of “yeah”s and welcomes.

“I hope it’s okay that I sit with you guys today,” he asked timidly.

“Yeah, great to have you, man,” Liam assured him as Lily reached across the table to relieve Parker of the extra lunch tray.

“Didn’t we have trig together last year, mate?” Dennis piped up to ask him.

“Um… I’m not sure. I don’t think I would recognize you in class,” the bashful boy responded, leading to a roaring bout of laughter from the crowd.

“Goddamn! He got your ass, Hauger,” Jack said through a fit of childish giggles.

As the conversation continued, Parker couldn’t help but notice that one of the usual members of their crew was missing. “Hey, babe,” she said as she nudged her boyfriend’s rib to get his attention.

“What?”

“Where’s Paul?” she asked, concerned. “He said he was coming to school when I checked in on him yesterday,” the girl recalled.

“Yo, Bearman,” Logan called quietly to the younger boy sitting across from them.

“What’s up?” Ollie questioned, eyebrows raised.

“Have you seen Paul at all today? Did he change his mind about coming in?”

“No, he’s here,” Ollie informed the couple. “I think he probably just wants some time to himself right now. Usually…” he trailed off.

Parker and Logan nodded in understanding. Usually Paul wasn’t the only Aron present at the lunch table.

“How are you holding up?” Parker inquired, giving the boy’s hand a gentle squeeze. Paul had lost a brother, but Ollie had lost the next best thing. His best friend. “I’m alright, thanks for asking,” he replied a little too quickly, flitting his eyes away from the couple before abruptly turning to rejoin the ongoing conversation to his right.

Logan and Parker shared a sad glance, but decided it was better to leave the boy be. Paul probably wasn’t the only one who needed space.

“So,” Arthur’s voice rang out, gathering everyone’s attention. “We’ve got Wednesday off, what say you all we hang at my place tomorrow night.”

“OMG! Sleepover!” Jack shrieked in a high pitched voice, eliciting a few snorts from the kids surrounding him.

“Shut up, Doofus,” Arthur shouted at him playfully.

“That’s not my name, Lecdumbass,” the other boy snapped back, overdramatically rolling his eyes in jest.

“Anyways…” Arthur hollered over his friends’ audible amusement, attempting to gather their attention again. “Is everybody in? You too, Guanyu,” he clarified, to which the meek boy simply nodded, much to the others’ delight. “Awesome!”

As everyone else agreed to the plan, Jack interrupted once again. “Can’t. My parents have been totally freaking out over all this shit. You know how they are. So, unfortunately, the only party I will be attending is Doohan family game night hosted at 15 Fairview Road. Sorry, gang.”

“Well, hope you have fun playing Scrabble with Mummy tonight,” Liam teased.

“Yeah,” Dennis joined in sarcastically, “maybe if you’re lucky she’ll let you have a scoop of chocolate ice cream too. With sprinkles!”

“Alright, fuck you all, I’m out of here,” Jack countered, beginning to gather his things in perfect unison with the end-of-lunch bell.

“Bye-bye, Doofenshmirtz!” Parker called to the boy’s back.

“See ya when Mama Doohan lets you out of your cage again,” her boyfriend added with a big grin, made even wider when Jack simply flipped them off as he continued walking away.

Dennis had worked his ass off all summer. He wanted that spot on the team and he wanted it bad. So, in the month leading up to tryouts, he had to keep up his training. And if Coach saw how dedicated he was maybe that would benefit him too.

After another grueling workout under the hot September sun, Dennis made his way back to the empty locker room. He could smell, see, feel, and taste the sweat on his body, making him strip off his soaked through shirt before the door had even fully closed behind him. He needed a shower ASAP.

All of a sudden, he felt the air knocked out of his lungs as his back hit the ground, letting out a strident wheeze. He laid there for a moment, groaning in pain and sweating even harder than before. Wait, no. That wasn’t sweat…

The boy wearily lifted his head off the ground, still recovering from the harsh impact of his fall, only to see the entire floor of the room flooded.

“What the fuck?” he sighed out with the little breath he was able to collect.

He slowly lifted himself back to his feet, ignoring his spinning head, until he looked down at where he had been only to be greeted by a river of pink floating in the shallow water. He reached his fingers to softly touch the back of his throbbing head and was immediately met with an intense pain and sticky, red blood covering his hand.

The boy sluggishly stumbled forward toward the sinks in order to better assess the situation and clean his open wound. The only sounds he could make out were his laboured breaths and the splashes of his feet meeting the puddles beneath him. Splish. Splash. Splish. Splash. Splish. He paused for a moment as the world spun around him.

Splash.

But the sound of that extra step behind him didn’t register in time for him to save himself.

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pendarling · 1 day

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Approaching Exam

CW: Language, mentions of exam, studying, Math and English

I'm held hostage by the education system so here is a story revolving that.

Hero's pen clicked over and over again as the slow wind trickled in through the window.

They hated exams, and sometimes, they hated studying more than the results themselves.

Hero sat in the quiet room, a closed-off sector of the library that could be rented out for a few hours in a day, and they were lucky enough to get into one after weeks of waiting. They could see why it was so popular after all; the walls in the room allowed for complete silence, and it put Hero at ease despite the slight eerie sense of being alone. Their eyes glanced up at the sky through the window. The clouds moved so slowly, yet time seemed to go by fast. It made their stomach churn at the idea of being unable to get past the first page of the exam when it did happen, and time would slip by them before they got the chance to complete any of the answers. Their eyes flickered back down onto their page at the mathematical equations listed out in front of them.

"Fuck me." they sighed and ran their fingers through their hair. If Hero could trade their life as a student to become a full-time hero, they would, but being a hero didn't pay as well these days and eventually, as they entered adulthood further, they would need to look for a proper job.

'How annoying,' they thought.

The door knocked softly, and Hero turned in their seat as the entrance creaked slightly; their time wasn't up already, was it? They stared at the clock. About half an hour remained still, in walked what looked to be a familiar face, but Hero couldn't put where they'd seen them before. Their brows furrowed when their eyes met.

"Excuse me." The stranger spoke, "Is this room E1B?" They sheepishly laughed at the setting. "I think I'm supposed to be in here today."

Hero pulled out their phone and checked the schedule they were emailed, "Mmm nope, it says here that this is my room."

The stranger turned their phone toward them as well, "Well, it looks like we got double-booked."

Hero leaned back on their chair, it looked like they'd be having company after all. With a small gesture of the head, Hero directed their new friend to the chair opposite the table. "Sorry." They mumbled they weren't sure why they were apologizing; it was the system's fault for scheduling two persons in the same room within the same hours.

They studied the new character as they set down their items and pulled out the chair. Hero wasn't planning on staring too much, but when someone looked this familiar to them, it was hard to look away.

They turned their focus back onto their page, still stuck on question 6 out of 30. The practice exam had to be more challenging, and there was no way Hero would make it through tomorrow if they couldn't get this done today.

Sarah is a civil engineer working on a project to design a curved ramp for a pedestrian bridge in a city park.

Hero ran their pencil under the words.

The ramp needs to smoothly connect two different levels of the park while adhering to safety regulations and accessibility standards. Sarah decides to use a curved shape for the ramp, represented by the function y=√x, where y represents the height of the ramp at a given distance x along its length.

Hero sighed and ran their fingers through their hair; they were so bored. Why was Sarah even a civil engineer? With all that money to get through the education and become one, she could've instead lived comfortably and married a nice rich husband, assuming her status was at least middle class.

This scenario was so unrealistic, plus it's like ten times harder for women to get into male-dominated fields because of sexism. Hero rolled their eyes and skipped the question. They flipped their page and glanced back at the stranger now reading a book, but what caught them by surprise was their hand, idly twisting a blue highlighter they felt they recognized.

From the back of their memory, Hero recalled a similar situation.

They sat on the floor bound by a rope. The mission of the day wasn't going as well as they had hoped, and Hero was left at the mercy of Villain while the other sat a few feet away from them on what looked to be a large desk. From their perspective, they could hardly make out what the computer screen in front of Villain was saying, but they could certainly see the way Villain effortlessly twirled the pen between each finger. They always wondered how they did that.

As soon as their memories left them, it had become apparent. The familiar face across them was Villain.

But what could they be doing here?

There was no way Villain was seriously studying how to annotate for what looked to be an English exam. For some reason, Hero never took Villain for being a student themselves. To be fair, they sort of assumed most villains weren't necessarily part of any civilian activity, and certainly, no villain should be a student of the city they tried destroying.

Man... if Hero could get Villain to destroy the school facility, they wouldn't be studying at all. However, seeing how diligently Villain remained focused on their work made Hero no longer interested in convincing them.

'Oh God,' Hero turned their face away from their direction, 'What if Villain recognized me and didn't say anything?!' In their bag, Hero knew they kept their dagger just in case they should ever be kidnapped by any particularly vengeful villain; they just didn't think it would be this person of all; they never seemed too fond of doing more than their work let them. Hero swallowed; in that case, they should prepare for a sudden attack if it did occur; there was just no way this was all a coincidence.

Booking two students into the same room? Are you kidding me? The system never messes up. This was clearly a ploy set up to kill Hero.

Their nervousness was felt as soon as their leg began to jump noticeably, shaking the table, much to Villain's delight.

"Excuse me," They set their eyes on them. Hero froze, "Please don't shake the table. I can't write."

"Uh-- sorry."

Hero reached down and unzipped their bag, slowly creeping the knife to their side; they would attack first; Villain wouldn't even see it coming. After unsheathing the blade from its case, Hero measured the distance between the two of them. The table really wasn't that large enough to stop Hero from jumping over it; maybe if they grabbed their arm or the collar of their shirt before throwing Villain down, they would have the upper hand. If that didn't work, maybe a kick or knocking a few items from the table for a distraction.

Hero remained focused on Villain as their enemy remained unaware. Maybe they were aware and had already thought of all the different counterattacks they could use against them. In that case-- the element of surprise was most valuable.

"What?" Villain frowned at them. Hero shook themselves out of their head; they must've been unknowingly staring for too long. Well, no point in getting embarrassed over it now.

Hero's grip tightened on the handle of the dagger as they chuckled nervously, "Oh, I was just wondering--" They jumped from the table and shoved the blade in Villain's direction. With a calculated move, Villain swiftly moved their head, catching their wrist with their other hand but knocking themselves out of the chair.

Hero jumped away from them, their ankle stung from accidentally hitting themselves on the edge of the table just as they moved. Villain didn't waste any time and lunged at them, quickly covering the space between them.

A solid blow to their stomach sent Hero stumbling back, and the dagger fell from them with a soft clank; they sunk to their knees, holding themselves from instinctively vomiting.

Villain grabbed the weapon and rushed to the open window, quickly locking it in place and closing its blinds. The room was a lot darker than Hero expected. Had that window always had shutters?

Hero hesitantly stood back up. The sharp metallic edge was pointed in their direction. "Don't even think about trying that again."

Their shoulder tensed at the thought of their next plan; they could run out that door, but what were the odds that Villain had already sent back up to encircle the place, and how would they keep civilians from getting hurt?

Villain licked their lips and inched closer, "Who sent you?" they demanded.

"Huh?" Was Villain genuinely asking them that? Wait-- did Villain not recognize them?

They laughed softly at the idea of having figured out their enemy's identity before them.

Hero, the idiot who couldn't get past question 6 on the practice math exam, could easily identify Villain. All this time, they had been under the impression that Villain was intellectually superior to them in every way, and although that may be the case, they were not one for remembering faces. It made part of Hero feel tremendous.

"No one."

Their bag still contained a few other items of use, such as a small smoke grenade that would definitely come in handy. Hero would have to go online and do the practice exam from their computer; there was no way in hell they'd be able to collect all their things and run.

Villain wasn't feeling very entertained with the prospect of having to forcibly recall to the best of their ability what they'd done to be assassinated during their downtime. Without letting their eyes leave the other student, they walked toward Hero's bag and reached down; Hero felt a sweat come on; did they know they were hiding more tools in there?

"Hey, don't go and steal my lunch money, alright?"

"Shut up." They pulled the tag attached to the bag and examined the student ID card intently; it looked like an actual student identification card, though the name didn't ring a bell at all.

"Villain, I'm actually offended that you don't know who I am."

"My bad, I wasn't aware there was an exam for memorizing faces as well." They tilted their neck from side to side, examining Hero's unmoving position.

Nothing about them stood out, but this person knew their name and must be a hero, at the least, seeing how their only sense of heroism was throwing themselves in danger-- a common feature among most heroes, but that didn't narrow down which hero, in particular, they were looking at.

"Not even my voice?" Hero glanced at them with a slight pout.

Their enemy racked their brain, still clueless about their identity, and their hands roamed around the pieces of paper Hero was working on. "Whatever, are you even a real student or did you just come here to distract me?"

Hero didn't reply with anything other than a shrug. They didn't initially come to attack Villain, but they also couldn't let Villain live freely within their presence.

Villain raised the practice exam questions to their face, reading the sheet as if searching for answers to help them understand who they were up against. "You didn't even do most of these right. How did you get 1.6667? It's not even listed in the multiple choice."

They threw down the booklet onto the table; Hero blushed, "I'm not good at that stuff. But don't change the topic, alright? I could've killed you if I wanted to."

"But you didn't." They smirked.

The door pushed open again, and Villain hurriedly tucked the dagger away.

"Excuse me~" A young woman and a few of her other friends stood outside, "We reserved this room for 6 pm...?"

Villain looked at the clock and then back at the group. "We'll be leaving now. Sorry about that." They looked at Hero and egged them to get to cleaning their mess. Their feet moved, albeit nearly struggling to keep themselves upright from the pain of their ankle. They should've been a lot more careful when it came to spatial awareness. Now wasn't the time to mull on that, though.

Once they had left the library, Villain headed in the direction of their exit. "You still following me?" They spoke, almost irritated.

"You have my dagger, and I would like it back. Please." With a short flick of the wrist, Villain dismissed their request and continued on their way down the flight of stairs. Hero had momentarily wondered what would happen if they had just gotten on with it already, pushed Villain down the stairs and took back their knife. It wasn't like anyone saw it happen anyway; no one stuck around this long after hours, not even the faculty.

Villain abruptly stopped in their tracks, still a little ahead of them. "Hero?"

"Yes?"

With a slight smile tracing their face, Villain spun their head around to look up at them. For a second, Hero was lost at what they were so happy about until it hit them, and they responded to their name at Villain's call.

"Fuck you."

Villain simply hummed, satisfied, and moved on.

~~~ MASTERLIST

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