#I won’t lie I’m a little more than a little obsessed with him

[honey-duck]

I think we’d get along great (lying)

[sukunas-wife]

YOU NEED TO MAKE MORE DAD!SUKUNA😭 It’s just soo good!!!, I’m literally obsessed with Dad!sukuna🫶🏻

lol here’s a little snippet to start the day, in other words I had a domestic dream 🥺🤍

Jujutsu Teacher Sukuna AU

Somewhere in another time line Sukuna became a not so dedicated teacher at Jujutsu high school still after having turned himself into a curse, even 1000 years he landed a spot on the higher up’s board it hilarious when they try to execute someone and he completely disagrees.

They learned quickly is Sukuna disapproves of their actions agree with arrimen Sukuna. Don’t go behind his back and try to do it either. He’s not afraid to kill everyone and replace the entire board of Higher Ups

Then one year he met you, you came in from the sister school to be teacher. Usually he tried not to mess with staff they only last so long anyways. But maybe it was that time he saw you banging your head in the drink machine because you used your last bills to buy a drink and it got stuck. Or maybe it was that time Gojo and Toji surprisingly decided to team up against you and you managed to hold your own.

It was when YOU started to pursUE HIM he became really intrigued. At first he became annoyed because not to far behind the corner he could hear the snickering and “Oh she’s really doing it!” “She’s a brave woman to try and flirt with him…” “What are you idiots do- oh, this could be interesting.” “shhh, I can’t hear what he’s saying!”

You didn’t notice when he flicked his wrist, but you did hear your coworkers panic and the rushed steps. Looking back confused you were more confused when you looked back at Sukuna and he was leaning forward getting face to face with you before squishing your face in one of his hands. “You do understand you proud Jujutsu Sorcerers don’t live very long, so give me one good reason you want my attention.”

You wanted to badly to look away from those demanding red eyes, to pull away and breath the God given air, instead here you were getting dazed off his musk and cologne. Feeling his warm hand squish your face, nails lightly pressing against your skin. Smash- swallowing you had one chance to do this right. Don’t stutter, don’t fear, breath, don’t rush, don’t show him WEAKNESS.

“I J- ahem” ah.. I messed up already, “Wait let me restart- Okay I’m ready, I’m not gonna stand here and promise happiness smiles and endless love, praise and worship. I’m not gonna lie to your face and tell you everything you want to hear and pretend it’s all sunshine and rainbows. When I go on a mission I’m not gonna say I promise to always come back that would be a fools move. But at least in my last moments I’d have to privilege to remember you and all those wise words you used to tell me like. “Dumbass that’s why you keep more than two dollars in your wallet.” Or “Living to please others and dying with regrets if no helping everyone is vain, Live to please yourself at least in your final moments you’ll have some sense of fulfillment.” So like it or not I’m here to please myself if you say No and tell me to fuck off and send me on my way. I won’t regret having asking. If you say yes, well I won’t lie I wouldn’t really know what to do or say I came in expected to be rejected and humbled.” Finally your eyes left his, you were oblivious to stare he had. He wasn’t completely amused but he wasn’t bored of your words either. “Look at me.” You did, “you didn’t bore me entirely with your little … speech so I’ll give you one opportunity. Sunday, I have an early mission, meet me here at 4 in the morning and I’ll tell you with me. After I finish you can have the rest of my day or until I get bored.”

He didn’t get bored… it turned out you amused him so much more when you weren’t surrounded be suits.

And that’s how you ended up here.

“Yuji don’t say something stupid love can’t protect anyone.” Nobara rolled her eyes, “Yuh huh, your words can’t hurt me because my mom and dad’s love protects me.” He puffed his chest out crossing his arms and smiling with closed eyes, missing the book Nobara was throwing at him. A solid sound was made, Yuji was wide eyed, the all to familiar wrist holding the heavy book just in front of his face, “Careful Miss.Kugisaki it’d be a shame if you caught extra missions for disabling another student from completing his own.” Yuji smiled proudly, “See, protected.”

Sukuna rolled his eyes, “Get to class Fushiguro was on your ass last time for being late to class.” He nodded his head at Yuji who just smiled sheepishly rubbing the back of his head, “Alright.” Of course the Trio ran past you greeting you with “Hi Mrs.Sukuna!” Good morning Mom!” “Morning Y/n Senpai.” You watched them all keep running until your husband stood next to you offering you the Coffee Cup he had been drinking. You were distracted by one thing “Why do you have our photo album?” Sukuna felt his eye twitch, “Damn brat.” Was all he mumbled tucking it under his shoulder, “Your son believes your love protects him.”

You laughed, “OUR son believes OUR love for him protects him. Considering your holding that book Im assuming Kugisaki tried to throw it at him or you were reminiscing on that time you had to save them from a Special Grade ambush and when you had to carry them all out Yuji was sniffling how he knew he could count on you to be there for him.”

He looked away, “Higher ups are lucky I only wiped out half of them.” You rested your head on his shoulder pulling the album from him. “Aaww this is Yuji’s baby album” you cooed seeing the picture of Sukuna holding Yuji next to a bouquet of “It’s a Boy!” Balloons. In the background you could see the blur of Geto smacking Gojo on the back of the head.

Sukuna is secure as a man and father 🥹

So it’s not a surprise to you when you come home late from the school and find true form Sukuna threatening to break the sofa under his weight coddling 15yo Yuji 🥹

As much of a brute people have him to be, Yuji might be his only son, and he might call him brat and roll his eyes a lot. But he’d be damned if he were truly a bad dad. In a whispered conversation he told you about everything that happened on Yuji’s mission. How the mission was purposely miss graded and they basically walked into a special grade curses domain. Sukuna had no doubt in his mind that if wouldn’t have been the one over seeing their mission the first years wouldn’t have walked back out alive.

Yuji was alright the entire ride but when he got home he broke down crying, speechless gasping for air. That’s when Sukuna pick him up carrying him over the sofa, coddling Yuji wasn’t as easy now that they were almost the same height, so he turned to his true form. And let Yuji cry, scream and hold onto him. Rubbing his back, holding his head against his shoulder, just talking to him to comfort him. “Do you remember that time we went to the park, and you wondered off to far chasing a duck.” Yuji nodded still sniffling, “Your mom was scared shitless when she couldn’t find you.” He laughed and Yuji laughed lightly, “y.. yeah I remember I jumped into the pond and then you and mom started screaming and then jumped in…” sukuna laughed louder, “Y/n was so mad but she couldn’t stay mad when she saw you with that little duck.” He patted Yuji’s back resting his chin on his head. Soon Yuji fell asleep.

It led you to find him this state. You asked him to go lay him in his bed, he did. He came to help you make some comfort food, it was hilarious when you asked if he could use dismantle on vegetables and it turned out he could. Now over the table in the wall is a sign that says “Malevolent Kitchen.”

The house that night was filled with the soft sounds of cooking, you and your husband talking about whatever came to mind. The Golden pot boiling with whatever broth you made. Sukuna was fighting the rice cooker while you tempura fried some shrimp and rolled some noodles to cook

It was well past 9 when you heard Yuji coming, both of you turning to see him walking yawning and rubbing his eyes. Bare feet padding along the kitchen floor. “Come sit down Yu you gotta be hungry.” you fixed him a large bowl of noodles with Tempura shrimp. On the side were the massive Onigiri Sukuna had made, he even tried to use the nori stamp to put little faces on them. More often than not they have 4 little crooked eyes that looked mad but it squeezed your heart how he laughed to himself saying “Yuji’s going to love these.”

He did, you watched as he bit into it rice sticking to his face. “These are good dad what did you fill them with?” “Nitamago we forgot to pack em for lunch so.. improvise I guess.” You both sat down with Yuji talking and eating. Just enjoying the free time you had together before Sukuna would go commit another crime against the higher ups 🤍🤍

Yeah 🥹

Im here 10-1 in the morning 🤍 It took all day to type this out 😭😭

Also a lot of my co workers walked out today 🥹 it was rough

Tag List: @sad-darksoul @cyder-puff @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @sakuxxi @mercymccann @simpforyoubitch @certainduckanchor @domainofmarie @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare

[rafeandonlyrafe]

drunk

words: 700

warnings: drinking, rafe is waaaasted

“just one more.” rafe slurs his words.

“no, man, i’m not carrying you home.” topper says, trying to shove him away from the bar, but to no avail. rafe stumbles forward, aiming for the open barstool, but he ends up face planting into your back.

“oh my god!” you turn to see rafe being helped up by topper.

“so sorry, y/n.” topper says, starting to drag him away.

“y/n is here?” rafe perks up like a puppy dog who just heard the word treat.

you let out a giggle, not completely sober yourself, but clearly nowhere near as drunk as rafe. “hi.”

rafe smiles and goes for the empty barstool next to you again, this time successfully plopping down in it.

“hi, you’re so pretty.” rafe leans his elbow against the bar, propping his chin up on his knuckles.

“thank you.” you blush. you’ve never talked one on one with rafe before, always staying in groups as you’re more than slightly intimidated by how handsome he is. you suppose you’re not actually one on one through, as topper is standing just out of earshot away, eyes firmly on rafe.

“did you know-” rafe slurs, reaching across to take your drink and down it, as if he needed any more liquid courage. “i’ve always found you beautiful?” you don’t have words to say, because no, you never knew.

“not just that, but you’re funny too. i love your laugh. and i think you’re smart but you said you were bad at math before.” rafe blurts out, and you’re shocked he remembered a passing comment from months ago.

“i am bad at math.” you know it’s not the best response, but you have no clue what else to say.

“i’ll do all the math for you.” rafe says, as if he’s any better than you.

you mostly just rely on your calculator but you mumble out a thanks anyways.

“i know i’m drunk right now, but i mean everything i said.” rafe says, scooching closer to you.

“i think you’re… pretty too.” you say, part of you hoping rafe forgets all of this, part of you hoping that his drunk words are his sober thoughts and that this will actually lead to something.

rafe is about to respond when topper comes up and claps him on the shoulder. “time to go home, for real.” “nooooo.” rafe whines. “i want to stay and talk to y/n. i never talk to her, i get too nervous.”

“great.” topper sighs. “this is why i never agree to drive him home.”

“come on rafe, topper is tired, you can talk to me tomorrow.”

“dont wanna leave you.” rafe pouts, and you resist the urge to laugh, knowing he’d be embarrassed by this if he wasn’t wasted.

topper gives you a pleading gaze and you sigh yourself, standing up and wrapping a hand around rafe’s bicep. “come on.”

rafe is quick to follow you as you lead him out of the bar and towards topper’s truck. “aren’t you getting in?” rafe asks when you try to have him sit in the passenger seat.

“i can drive you home too if you want.” topper says, and you nod, moving to the back seat as rafe gets in beside you, reaching across you to do up your buckle, even in his foggy mind wanting to keep you safe.

“we should go out sometime.” rafe says, taking your hand in his as topper starts up his truck. “i haven’t been with anyone since i met you, been so hung up on you.”

you scoff as rafe leans his head against your shoulder, and you know he’s going to be out in a matter of minutes.

topper heads to rafes house first as rafes breathing slows, gentle snores coming from him. 

“you know he’s serious?” topper says, and you look up to meet his eyes in the rearview mirror as you let out a hum of confusion.

“he’s telling the truth, all of it.” 

you can’t believe that it’s anything more than a drunk obsession that will pass when the hangover comes in the morning, but topper has no reason to lie to you.

“in fact, i’m actually a little sick of hearing about you. if not because you actually like him, can you please just go out with him for my sanity's sake?”

you let out a little laugh, knowing that won’t be necessary.

[mammomlette]

OBEY ME YOUNGER BROTHERS AS SOULMATE TROPES!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3(WIP rn)]

Includes: Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor, GN!Reader/MC

Warnings: Spoilers for lesson 16 in Belphies (not explicitly said but obvious foreshadowing for a twist), implied manipulation (Belphies) (not sure if that needs a warning but better safe than sorry)

Notes: I’m still quite new to fanfics and Tumblr, and honestly just writing in my free time in general so constructive criticism is defo encouraged!! Also I won’t lie to you, Satan did seem a tad ooc erm…

SATAN: writing/drawings on hands appear on eachother

* As soon as you turned 18, you noticed small phrases and notes appearing on your right hand

* It started off with small things like “page 562” or “British shorthair.” Just things to keep as a reminder or to be able to search it up later

* However, as time went by, the notes became a bit more… concerning

* Concerning book quotes from old literature, sometimes in other languages, and nefarious plans to prank someone called ‘Lucifer’

* Your soulmate plans to prank the devil himself. Haha. What a great idea.

* You brushed it off for a while, appreciating the occasional cat fact or chapter reminder and just ignoring the angry words about Lucifer.

* Eventually, you began to build up the courage to respond. Small things relating to things your soulmate wrote, like cat doodles (good or bad as your art skill may be) or going over the writing of the reminder when you notice it started to fade

* Not knowing if it was your place to write down your own notes or just not quite having that amount of bravery, you still did those little things to let your soulmate know that hey, you’re there and you’re always reading what they have to say.

* Satan thought he was hallucinating.

* Thousands of years spent just jotting things down to remind himself of things at a later date, frequently on his hand, and suddenly things started to change?

* He had wrote “British shorthair” on his palm in hopes of being able to look it up later, and a few minutes later he looks down to his palm to search it up and sees a… cat?? It’s really not clear. It’s round, with two points on the top of its head… yeah thats a cat.

* He’s become so obsessed he’s hallucinating badly drawn cats, which is probably a cause for concern, so naturally he confides in his brothers about this and is comforted that no he’s not hallucinating, however cats are just randomly appearing on his hand.

* They continue to appear, circles with two triangles, some looking better than others and some with more odd features likes birthday hats or weird outfits

* He finally decided to read up on what could be happening and was quickly met with the term ‘soulmates’

* He had heard of this a long time ago from one of his brothers while he was still young (for a demon) and brushed it off as a fairy tale. Why had his soulmate only started communicating with his just now?

* He moved on eventually and time passed, a new human being introduced to his home and his family.

* It took an embarrassingly long time to realise that his human was also his soulmate, it wasn’t until you were both just chilling in his room and you were doodling something next to some words on your arm that he noticed a cat appearing on his own arm.

* “Look! The cat thing is happening!” He shouted, a lot more emotion out into it that he would’ve liked due to the sheer shock

* You stopped what you were doing and look at his arm, the cat drawing having ceased its being drawn while you stared at the cat, face turning into shock and then seriousness. Because that is the cat that you just drew.

* “Satan.” You said, just staring into his eyes without any expression

* “Yes, MC?” He responded, worried at your monotony. His mouth then gaped open and you showed him your arm, cat half doodled next to the words “page 236, sticky notes needed”

* You both just made dead eye contact for a second before your eyes both began to flick back and forth and your lips slowly started to quiver

* Both of your sweet laughters filled the room, how ironic that such a common book trope would be what flew under Satan’s nose for so long.

ASMODEUS: soulmate telepathy

* Ever since you turned 18, you had been hearing a voice in your head.

* Not necessarily in a concerning way! In the way it happens when you and your soulmate have both turned 18 and can finally communicate.

* At first, you thought that you were hearing things. Things like “Ooo, this would be a great touch to my outfit! ♡” and “Can’t believe my bath wasn’t 3 hours long today…” flooding your mind. Since when were you SO picky about your clothes and hygiene, even when not in the process of dressing or washing? And since when were your baths 3 hours?

* Quickly though, you realised that this voice wasn’t your own. It was a melodic sounding voice that felt like honey and most definitely did not belong to you.

* You had heard from your family growing up and your friends recently that once you had become an adult you would be able to communicate with your soulmate through your thoughts, proof of the bond your souls shared, thoughts intertwining together.

* You found that whenever you were deep in thought and rambling to yourself you’d be met with a “hon, slow down” in your mind or that whenever you were trying to figure out an outfit your soulmate would chime in to offer their expert advice without hesitation

* No hesitation at all, because Asmo had waited his entire life for this.

* Thousands of years of life believing that he had no soulmate, destined to forever be a player

* So long spent reading and gushing over cute romance stories where soulmate meet and finding comfort in romcoms about that very topic, and here he was finally with his own soulmate in his mind

* The way you would thank him for his advice before his mind went quiet from your thoughts again until you later told him how well everything went and the way you would ramble internally to him without even realising you were connected to his mind made his heart flutter, even without your face your voice and soul were beautiful

* One day he had been summoned alongside his brothers to the student council room to welcome the new human exchange student. It was a hassle that could be spent doing something more productive like his skincare or extra time in the bath, but he was still just so excited he had to tell you how excited he was to meet the new human!

* “New human?” You thought, but had no response from your soulmate before you appeared inside of a council room in front of 5 attractive strange men.

* You panicked and were kind of in autopilot mode as a tall man in all red introduced you to your situation and a slightly-less-tall man in black started to introduce you to his brothers

* You still had small responses in your shock, and a certain demon recognised your voice.

* You were immediately snapped out of autopilot when you heard the voice of the second brother you were introduced to, an admitted handsome man with slightly-pink-tinted light brown hair and stunning orangeish eyes said “Oh come now. Really? You should be that you get to introduce such a sweet and charming little brother like me!” And you froze.

* You looked like a deer in headlights to lucifer who was trying to introduce you to a blonde demon, but to Asmo, you looked like the most beautiful creature to ever walk the three realms (asides from himself, naturally) and the only person worthy of him.

* Asmo saw beauty in everyone, but everyone else paled in comparison to your face in this moment and your voice every other previous time he had heard it.

* He looked at you with knowing eyes and your eyes finally softened from your shocked face, finally understanding what he meant earlier by “new human”

* It would take time for you to get used to being in a new world with a demon as your soulmate, it would take time for him to get used to loving someone more intimately than as lust, but you both had eachother and the bond that ties your minds together and that’s all you needed.

BEELZEBUB: you share (some of) your soulmate’s pain

* It was growing unbearable.

* The slight yet constant ache in your stomach, a pit that was never quite full.

* For years you mistook it for your own hunger, not sure if you should be eating more or not

* It was always there, always something that disctracted you whenever you were left alone in silence or trying to sleep at night, always waiting for you to finish a meal just to make you feel that familiar ache again.

* It was just insufferable.

* It wasn’t just the hunger, though. There would be times where your muscles would ache like you had been working out without a proper cool down or your arms felt like they had bruised from defending or blocking against something

* You inquired with your friends about this and were just told that it would be your soulmate. You shared pain with your soulmate, and your soulmate always seemed in pain

* It wasn’t a pain that came from attacks or falling, just a pit that always felt so empty it hurt but could never be filled.

* Was your soulmate starving to death? You wished there was a way to help them, to soothe the pain, but without knowing who they are there was no way to fix it.

* As of present, you had been sent into the devildom a few weeks ago and had began to slowly feel adjusted to the devildom and your roommates and you had grown fond of one in particular: Beelzebub, the avatar of gluttony.

* You sympathised with him and his constant hunger since you yourself always felt a small bit of this hunger, even if you’d learnt by now that it wasn’t yours to fix

* So naturally, you hung a round him more

* You spent time with him whenever you could just because you wanted to, accompanying him to the gym or treating him to Hell’s Kitchen or even just sitting with him when he was lonely and missing his brother who had gone to the human world

* And it felt like every time you gave him the food you were craving so much, that pit in your stomach was filled just a bit

* Always there, never going away, but it felt just that bit more bearable and ignorable for a short while

* Who knew you were such an empath?

* Of course it crossed your mind of that Beel could be your soulmate, but what are the chances? You dismissed the thought whenever it appeared, not wanting to get your hopes up

* However, your hopes were validated one night in the kitchen with Beel.

* You were preparing him a small snack, just cutting up some devildom-style bread for him when you accidentally put your finger down at the wrong time in the wrong place and cut it

* You hissed at the pain, putting down the knife to look at your finger and you thought you heard Beel grunt.

* “MC, are you okay?” He inquired, approaching you to look at your finger while slightly cradling his own for some reason

* “Uh, yeah, I just need a plaster or something, would you mind..?” “Yeah, of course.” He continued to clutch his finger while reaching for the cabinet, letting go for a second to open it and grab you a plaster

* “Are you okay? You’re holding your finger too.” You were slightly worried by his mannerisms even though you didn’t see a cut on his fingers.

* “Yeah, my finger just hurt all of a sudden. It’s fine though. Here, I’ll put the plaster on for you.”

* You fell into comfortable silence as he opened the plaster and began pressing in down, but he pressed down a bit too hard which hurt you, causing both of you to hiss.

* “Seriously Beel, are you okay?” He nodded. “Yeah, it’s just like whenever you get hurt my finger hurts too.”

* Lightbulb. You realised finally that those slight considerations were valid and the connection you felt with Beel was real. The hunger you felt wasn’t yours and the reason it was numbed when you gave him food is because it was his.

* He seemed to have realised this too, because he paused and looked at you, slowly smiling.

* “MC, I just realised something. I think that-“ you cut him off with a kiss, smiling now too.

BELPHEGOR: you have a countdown until your soulmate’s death

* Surely there was an error in the system.

* Call you crazy but you didn’t quite think that 378,691,205,018 seconds is applicable to the human life span.

* You had come to the conclusion that your soulmate was either non-existent and the universe was fucking with you or they were some kind of non human entity and obviously both of these answers were stupid but at least the former was possible.

* You’d grown accepting overtime that you didn’t have a soulmate unlike how most of your friends did and that you’d never have that sort of unconditional love

* Not having a soulmate wasn’t unheard of, just uncommon.

* And you got the short end of the stick. That’s all there was to it.

* UNTIL you got randomly abducted one day into literal hell where pretty much all beings there loved for thousands of years.

* ‘Maybe I have a chance now?’ You crossed the thought out from your mind. First of all, these were demons and most of them had made attempts on your life at some point or another, and secondly almost all of them either a) didn’t have a timer, which meant no soulmate, b) had an insanely high timer that you’d never be able to reach or c) had already found their soulmate

* You sighed to yourself and began to lose hope again, walking up the stairs to the attic

* A short while ago, you had found a human locked in the attic, who had asked you to help him. You clicked, something in that moment just felt like it had been put in place like the final puzzle piece so you trusted him without really knowing why

* But you had even more recently found out from his brother that he was bulshitting you and that he was probably the demon Belphegor, so now you just wanted to figure out what was going on

* You continued to march up the stairs and finally arrived at the attic to confront him or at least question him

* “Are you Belphegor?” You cut to the chase not wanting to bother with any more of his lies.

* He was silent for a second before grinning, devilish look that you’d expect from the decent ruler or the underworld gleaming in his eyes as he said “Aww, so you’ve already figured me out, have you? Well, you’re no fun at all.”

* You glared, and tried to decide whether declaring he was a liar or asking why he was a liar would be a better idea

* But he spoke up again before you could decide.

* “That timer on your neck, what does it say?”

* You paused, not knowing the exact number. “Um, like, there’s hundred billion seconds-ish? Why?”

* “Because I’m a demon. I’m going to live long enough to fulfil that. Look at my timer, here. It has 13,140,014 seconds. No demon would live that short.”

* “And is thirteen million a lot of time?”

* “About a human lifespan, bit under.”

* You hummed. It made sense to you looking at it at the moment, though you could’ve sworn it was a little bit under your guess, you trusted him.

* Why? He lied to you about being a human, so why do you trust him?

* Because he’s your soulmate. There’s no doubt in your mind. The click, the need to trust him, even seeing him in your dreams. It was right.

* So you believed him, and didn’t give the thirteen million seconds much question. You were going to save him, save your soulmate.

* Because thirteen million seems like a long time, and I guess it was long enough for you to save him. Just not enough to do much more.

[seresinhangmanjake]

Stolen Angel - Part 4

Demon!Jake Seresin x reader

Summary: You thought you were having a one-night stand with some random, normal guy. Turns out he’s a winged, demon-like stalker who has been obsessed with you for years.

Warnings/Notes: Jake is a little dark. Kidnapping. Manipulation. Obsessive behavior. I’m sure there are typos. This used to be a different fic for August Walker, so if you see it, it’s fine. I wrote that one too.

Words: 1793

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

“You didn't eat.”  

You don’t flinch at the intrusion of his voice, not this time. While it was peaceful without his deep tone in your ear, you knew him finding you was inevitable, and honestly, you’re surprised it took him this long. Although, it’s possible that he didn’t need to find you at all; he could have been watching you from afar. Just because you haven’t seen his face in almost twenty-four hours doesn’t mean he hasn’t seen yours, and you’ve certainly provided him with an unobstructed view. But then you wonder why he hasn’t dragged you back to your room. 

You weren’t going to run. You just needed to see it, feel it, for yourself. Maybe that’s why he’s let you be; why he’s not scolding you until your brain melts. Maybe he knows that you won’t have logic overpowering your emotions when it comes to this, because even if you had some semblance of which direction to go in, you wouldn’t know what to do once you got there. To be anywhere other than here, like it or not you need him. You need his guidance and support, and worst of all, his permission.

“I ate some of it,” you confess. 

“Not enough,” he says. 

When he steps in front of you, his body eclipses the sun. The field around you untouched by his shadow still radiates its vibrant shades while you sit in the darkness he is creating. You look up, and his blond hair is glowing almost blindly from the backlight of the sun.

“Why are you out here, Angel?”

You turn your attention to your hand that’s nestled in the grass. “I had to see if it was real,” you say softly as you twirl your finger around a green blade.

He hums. “And are you satisfied with what you've found?”

Satisfied? You could scoff. What a foolish question; a disrespectful question. You can’t be satisfied with what you don’t understand. Feeling the dirt between your fingers and toes doesn’t provide you with the wealth of clarity he has been denying you. Clarity that you’re owed. 

“Come on,” he says at your lack of reply, reaching out a hand. “Out of the grass.”

“Tell me what this place is,” you say.

“I can explain it to you later. You’re not completely healed and we need to—”

“No,” you snap, meeting his eyes. “Now. Explain it to me now.”

Jake sighs, his hand dropping back to his side. “Angel—”

“I could become a lot more difficult, you know.”

He lets out a huff of a chuckle. Little crinkles form in the corners of his eyes. “Yes, I do know.”

“Then tell me.”

His smile settles. He mutters something under his breath before he glances over your head to the structure behind you. When you turn to get a look at what has stolen his attention, you find only an empty doorway. 

“You want me to like you, don’t you?” you ask, knowing that will draw him back to you. 

A blond brow raises in curiosity and suspicion. “This will make you like me?”

“It would help,” you lie. “The truth is important to me, and I don’t understand how you can expect me to want to be here if I have no clue what ‘here’ is.”

As he bites the inside of his cheek, you begin to worry that the promise of your affection is not a strong enough offer—that he might want more than just your words, he’ll want proof that you intend to follow through with what you say by your actions—but then he turns where he stands and lowers himself into the grass beside you. He’s close, and when his wing brushes over yours as he makes himself comfortable, he’s quick to pull it away, as if your feathers could set his aflame. 

Clearing his throat, he runs a hand through his hair before he rests his elbows on his bent knees. “It’s called The Tower,” he eventually says. “It was a prison, technically, until about two months ago.”

“A prison,” you repeat. “How fitting.”

He shoots you a look. You’ve offended him and you need to reign yourself in. “If you bothered to behave, it wouldn’t have to feel like one,” he informs you.

You hold back from rolling your eyes. You’re the textbook definition of a prisoner and you both know it. He can deny it to your face all he wants, but you have a right to feel like this place is a prison, even if it doesn’t exactly have the look of a prison. At least, not where you’re from. You don’t know of many ‘cells’ that include wardrobes, open windows, double beds with thick coverings, and fireplaces. Before you left your room you were imagining many possibilities for the cage you’ve been kept in, but among those were large estate or small castle, not a home for the naughty winged people.

“It’s awfully fancy for a prison,” you say.

“Our offenses weren’t so horrible.”

Our? 

Your brows almost shoot off your forehead until you take a half-second to soak it in and then accept the shame of being shocked. “Of course, you’re a criminal,” you say, nodding to yourself. “Did you kidnap a few other innocents and turn them into monsters, too?”

Jake doesn’t look you in the eye as he swallows hard, so you turn your head back to the horizon. “You’re not a monster, Angel. You’re perfect,” he tells you, then shakes his head. “But no. There were no others. I broke a rule—the same rule—a few times, which got me three separate six-month sentences in five years. Four months into my last one, the prison was dissolved here and set up elsewhere. Everyone was released; I stayed.”

Your brow pinches. “Why would you stay in the place you were captive?”

“I liked my room—well, your room right now. I liked the view. I thought it would be a good place for us once you joined me,” he says. “Secluded. Intimate.” 

Stomach flipping, your heartbeat gives a sharp thud. Instinctually, you think to move away, make an early retreat back to your room, but for once he’s actually answering your questions and you can’t sacrifice that in case you’re never given the same chance.

“What was the rule that you broke?” you ask. 

“Out past curfew, so to speak.”

“Out where?”

Jake goes silent, contemplating, then he says, “That's enough for now.”

But it’s not enough for you. “Out where?” you press to no response, so with a huff, you push off the ground to stand. 

He grabs your wrist as you’re about to take a step. “Sit,” he says. “I'll tell you if you stay.” 

Subtly smirking at the win, you return to the grass. 

Jake blows out a breath. “The Below,” he tells you.

“The Below…” You roll the words around on your tongue. They mean nothing to you until Jake makes a face like he might come to regret what he’s just done, and then they mean everything. “My world?”

Jake groans. “How many times do I have to tell you that that is not your—”

“You were there more than just that one time?” you interrupt, stunned that you momentarily forgot that your home is where he met you. It must have been the anger or fear or lasting daze from the week of pain, but somehow it didn’t register that you could potentially return as well. “How?”

“No more questions,” he scolds.  

“But I thought you wanted me to like you,” you counter. 

Shifting to sit on your hip with your legs bent at your side, you set your hand on top of his. He stares at the new touch, then his thumb begins to rub along the line of your index finger in soft, slow motions. 

He doesn’t stop his staring. He doesn’t stop his thumb’s gentle caressing. “Yes, I was there more than just that one time.”

Despite your carefully restrained excitement at the plethora of new information, you forget the game you’re playing and jerk your hand away from his just as he’s about to intertwine your fingers. “So you can go whenever you want?” you ask. “Then take me.”

At the demand, his teeth clench, jawline sharpening. “No, I cannot go whenever I want, and no, I am not taking you.”

“Why not!”

“Because you are right where you should be,” he says decisively. 

You feel his heightening irritation, so you quickly place your palm on his shoulder and slide it down to his toned bicep where it stays. 

“I just want to see it,” you tell him before you scoot yourself closer to his side, your hip a couple inches shy of pressing against his. He looks down to where your bodies are nearly touching, then back up at you. You try a light smile. “Please, Jake.”

His eyes lock on to your smile, your lips. He darts his tongue out to wet his own, and you prepare yourself for the kiss you’re sure he’s about to give you—a kiss you won’t say no to if it helps get you home—but it’s a kiss that never comes. He just thinks; drinks in your smile and thinks. 

The green of his irises in the sunlight is overwhelming when directed at you for such a long pause, and you don’t initially notice when he opens his mouth. 

“If you show me that you can listen to me and do as I tell you, I’ll consider it,” he finally says. 

Your head flinches back, mind immediately going to the worst of what he could want from you. “What will you be telling me to do?” 

“To start, you’re going back inside. You haven’t finished healing and because you took yourself on a little adventure, you stressed your wing and now part of it is inflamed. You need rest.”

You must have been so mentally preoccupied that you blocked out all physical transmission to your brain because it’s only when he says it that you feel the return of the ache.  

“And you’re going to eat,” he continues. “Everything, this time.”

“Fine,” you relent. 

“You’re going to wear something made of more comfortable fabric than that,” he gestures to your smock, “And you’re going to stop arguing with me over every damn thing. You can’t change what’s been done, so being pissed at me doesn’t do you any good.”

It takes extra effort to muster up an agreement to that last one. Your swallow you can only compare to trying to get down a sponge soaked in wet cement. “Fine,” you grit out.

“Fine,” he says, standing. He extends his hand out toward you again. “Let’s see if you’re capable of behaving, Angel.”

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @penguin876 @tgmavericklover @athenabarnes @emilyoflanternhill @wretchedmo @shanimallina87 @crowsreadsarahjmaas @mamachasesmayhem @sky2nd @jessicab1991 @rosedurin @averyhotchner @horseshoegirl @roosteraloha @b-bradshaw @fandom-life-12 @hookslove1592 @buckysteveloki-me @eloquentdreamer

[inkwolvesandcoffee]

Coy Messages & New Love (Daddy Dom!John Price on Tumblr Headcanons)

Or: More headcanons for a story I might write someday.

CoD Masterlist

Username: CaptainBear

He’s a soft Daddy Dom but with a rough edge. So is it any surprise John is very possessive yet also genuinely caring?

And kinda heartbroken you don’t live in England despite coming across as British.

Is always the first to like your posts.

And despite the rules you set, especially the DNI if you’re 40+ (in my mind, John is about 42), you allow him to interact with your content.

Because there’s something drawing you to him, something inexplicable that craves his attention. Something that keeps you hoping there’s a chance.

Your heart almost leaps out of your chest when you receive a notification.

CaptainBear sent you a message.

CaptainBear: Hey, I just wanted to say I thoroughly enjoy your blog and you seem like a very darling girl. And pretty to boot! You probably won’t respond to this and that’s fine, but I thought I’d finally gather the courage to pop in and tell you.

CaptainBear: Also, if I may be blunt, seeing you wear that choker in combination with that bunny shirt makes it very difficult to think. If you were at base with me, I don’t think I’d be of any use. Mission planning would be nigh on impossible.

(your_username): Base? What do you do for a living?

CaptainBear: I’m in the military. Captain.

(your_username): Wow, seriously?! That’s incredible! But, with all due respect, what is a man like you doing in a place like this?

CaptainBear: Satisfying my curiosity. Maybe on a mission to find something.

(your_username): Which is?

CaptainBear: Companionship. With luck, yours.

(your_username): What’s your name, soldier? If you tell me, I’ll see what I can do.

CaptainBear: It’s John. Sorry, should’ve mentioned that. Quite a generic name too, I know.

(your_username): It’s alright, John. Is it short for anything or just John?

CaptainBear: It’s short for Jonathan, but only my Mum calls me that.

(your_username): But what if I did?

CaptainBear: God, you’ve got no idea how much I now want to hear you say it.

(your_username): Maybe someday you will.

He regularly checks up on you, even multiple times a day. Look, John just wants to make sure you ate, stay hydrated, and are healthy.

When he's on leave, it's not uncommon to get a message from him accompanied by a picture of a pint with the context he's at a pub with his pals. More often than not, it's followed by a confession he'd rather spend the evening with you.

Loves it when you send him photos, especially to show off new lingerie you bought.

Thrives on the knowledge he gets to see more of you than anyone else and loves the thought you’re showing others what they can’t have.

Because it’s all his.

Has confessed to jerking off to them… a lot.

Shares little bits of his day with you. He’d be at a bookshop and ask you to pick something for him to read or your recommendations. Or he’ll be cooking and be struck with curiosity because what is your favourite food? What do you like to eat?

CaptainBear: Y/N, I made a brownie.

(your_username): Oh, is it any good?

The photo he sends you answers the question. Nevertheless, just to be sure and give him the chance to give context, you send a follow-up question. (your_username): Did you use 90% cocoa chocolate or is it…

CaptainBear: It’s burnt… so now you know I can’t bake. I’m a man of many talents, but baking isn’t one.

(your_username): I’m sure you more than make up for it otherwise, sir.

CaptainBear: You’ll find out when we meet, my dear.

Assures you that when he’s away on deployment he’s not making up a lie to be with another. And in order to prove that, John will sneak in photos to show you he’s really in Iraq or wherever else.

Drives the task force up the wall because he gets quite lovey dovey in private.

Leaves compliments on your posts which are laced with possessiveness and his obsession with you (my pretty Dollie, sweet little thing, etc.) on your posts. He tags you in photos and reblogs too to let you know what he's into, thinks you like, and hopes for your relationship and possible future.

Furthermore, he also shows you claimed him via reblogs and by stating he’s ‘taken and proudly devoted to (your_username)’ in his blog’s bio (even before he's asked for your submission, which he is pretty sure you'll give him. Until then, it's a way to stave off unwanted attention).

Gets especially gooey with lust and affection when you show him the plushies you’ve crocheted (totally not saying this because I crochet, haha). Like, he’ll immediately brighten when he sees a '(your_username): John (and occasionally sir or even Daddy later down the line), look at this!' followed by a photo of you snuggling with your new animal buddy.

As time passes by and you two get to know each other in more ways than one, you finally decide to meet. The moment you tell John you booked a train to London during the time he’s on leave he’s overjoyed. Ecstatic even.

The moment you enter King’s Cross, he spots you and practically runs over to wrap you up in a warm bear hug before you can get so much as a greeting out. The only sound you make is a surprised squeal as he lifts you up and twirls you around. “My little lady, finally home.”

At last, you regain your voice. “Hello to you too, Jonathan.”

Though he loathes hearing anyone else use his full name, he melts on the spot when you do. Moreover, he’s flattered you remembered the promise he thought was an empty one, a fleeting wish.

Turned into a dream come true.

Takes you out for coffee and Build-A-Bear as a first date the day after because your first day together gets lost to unpacking and settling into the Hackney townhouse he calls ‘home’. Lost to getting the messages (holding hands all the while), learning how each of you likes their coffee, what his favourite cigars are, what your favourite food is.

Lost to the feeling of what it’ll be like to live together.

It’s surprisingly much easier for John to tune into you than he expected. Henceforth, he picks up on the hesitation that underlines your movements, the slight shudder in your lips while he tries his best not to get completely lost in you.

“We don’t have to do this,” he hastily says between kisses, needing to get the words out before you start something you won’t want to finish.

“No, I want to, John. I want you.” You told him you’re a virgin and have given off clues that the concept of actually having sex is, to be honest, quite frightening. Nevertheless, you’ve put your trust in him and feel secure in his touch, his embrace.

“I know, love, but I mean that we don’t, shouldn’t even, have sex if you don’t want to.” His features soften. “Don’t do it if you feel like you need to to please me because you don’t. I’ll wait for when you’re ready. I told you before, this isn’t about sex or the dynamic. I love you. Love who you, you as a person, are and I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything you don’t want.”

After reassuring him and giving him your consent explicitly multiple times, he picks you up and carries you to the bedroom.

Tries to be gentle the first time, but ends up being rough anyway. He’s utterly enchanted, nay, enthralled by how you look, unraveling over and over again.

All because of him.

Nonetheless, John refuses to cum inside you until you’re on birth control and he has bought a box of proper condoms.

“It’s not that I don’t want to have sex with you or cum inside. Believe me, I do, every minute of the day. Drives me fucking mad, but,” he caresses your hair as he pries your legs away from his waist, ”I have to think about your health as well.”

You don’t protest, don’t want to after a soft kiss on the forehead and a husky “I’m sorry, love”. In response, you lightly squeeze his arm and shake your head. “Don’t apologise. I also won’t force you to do things you don’t want to do. Though it’s nice.”

“What is?”

“You looking out for me.”

“‘Course I do,” John snaps into you, picking up the pace again that has you seeing stars, “I’m your captain. Your man. Your bear.”

Those very words, combined with his warm presence, tips you over the edge.

A content echo of his name fills the room, rings in his ears as a satisfied sigh falls from your lips and tears stain your cheeks. It’s this image of chaotic beauty, of gorgeous ruination, which almost makes him break his promise. Nonetheless, after a few more sharp thrusts, he pulls out. Thick creamy white spurts draw an intricate pattern on your skin.

His mark.

John rests his forehead against yours, basking in the afterglow. “I love you.”

Today and the many days he hopes are ahead of you.

[onyourhyuck]

Sin & Obsession. | L.MK

— Prologue: “I never knew you’d have such a slutty side to you, Y/n. What else are you hiding underneath that good girl façade?”

— Summary: You’re a faithful good girl. You attend church and you stay out of trouble. Mark is a guy that attends your church and what you don’t know is that he’s been obsessed with you for a while…

— Genre: Dark smut / Romance. Slight horror aspect (?) Mark Lee is a stalker. Mention of Christianity and faithfulness. Christian!Mark. Church mention. Mark is very much obsessed with Y/n. He stalks her. He has deep affection for Y/n but like super borderline I guess? Watching Y/n masturbate while he is hiding in her closet. Mark jerks off. Mark panty thief. Pantie sniffing.

— Notes: Part 2 anyone?

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You’re a faithful Christian. You’ve always been. You were born and raised in your cradle as a good faithful Christian who prides herself in your religion daily. You bring religion everywhere you go with you. One thing you like is that you do mid-week service and as well as attending every Sunday to the church.

You get along with everyone, you speak to everyone, and you try to get involved in your community activities.

However one thing you don’t know at all. You’re completely unaware of what people actually want from you. Mark Lee is a guy that goes to your church and he’s had his eyes on you for quite some time. He attended the church a little bit longer than you and then you moved into the area and started going to this church that he is going to.

He’s always lived in Canada. So when he heard you move from such a far away person to Canada to start a fresh chapter he couldn’t help but fall for you and your own words. It was love a first sight for Mark. You were beautiful, charismatic, there was something about you when you speak about God like he was your best friend. He genuinely thinks it’s beautiful, and he admired your religious side too. He was a faithful committed Christian too, himself. However you were slightly different.

You are a good girl everyone can see that when they look at you. You dress like one, you dress pretty good and wear what makes you feel great. At this point Mark thinks the clothes aren’t wearing you, you’re wearing the clothes. You make them look very good. He won’t lie.

When you come to church in a dress Mark would confess that he truthfully did take a look down at your breasts once or twice. He can’t help it. You wore to church in a white dress and what do you expect him to do? Not to stare down there? Mark thinks it would be very rude of him if he didn’t look down at your beautiful perky and busty tits. He didn’t speak to you much but only admired you from the sidelines. In fact you probably only spoke to him once and that’s when you started attending the church getting to know everyone.

Mark prefers to be mysterious and watch you from afar where you don’t realise he is actually watching you.

That day when you left with that white dress on, something within him has snapped. It’s been a good long few months since you moved into the area now. Probably five months or more. Mark couldn’t help but follow you that day when you left. It was very out of character for him. Mark knew he shouldn’t just follow you to your house and just watch you get home. He said to himself ‘I’m just following Y/n so she can get home safe, yeah.’ But that would also be half truth and half a lie. He just wanted to stare and admire you for a little moment. He wanted to know what area you actually live in: which turns out you don’t live too far from the church. You are down the road it seems.

And that’s what started the faithful Christian’s obsession with you. Mark’s obsession began the moment you wore that pretty white dress to church, and every Sunday whenever the church service ends he follows you home. Every Sunday. Every time he would follow you back home. You never seem to notice either and Mark starts to believe you’re not that great at self awareness. He took pleasure in following you and watching you when you aren’t aware of it. It’s like something within his heart was searching for that thrill, the adrenaline rush of stalking you and admiring you.

This went on for weeks and weeks. Sometimes even months. Mark never knew he would be so infatuated by seeing you walk home from church. Sometimes Mark even wonders when he goes home later in the week what you’re doing. At this point Mark has memorised your Sunday schedule off by heart. He never knew this could bring him such happiness to be close to you. Even though he can’t bring himself to speak to you because you’re shining alone in your own light.

He was afraid of messing up. He didn’t know how to approach you. In fact Mark never knows how to approach girls but you’re different from the other girls he knows. You’re a fair, beautiful, modest and humble. You’re mature and as well as religious. Mark knows that people who are devoted to their religion cannot be approach the normal way and so, Mark is fine with being in the sideline shadows watching you. He saw you come to your step and open the door unlocking it. Somehow Mark saw you forgot to lock the door it looks like you’re search for something. He couldn’t help but smile a little.

The urge to go in was there, so he follows it.

It wouldn’t hurt right? To go inside your house unannounced without you knowing it. Only for a minute, Mark said. He can allow a minute inside your house because he was getting greedy. He wonders what the inside of your house actually was like. When he enters it he wanders around the living room.

Mark can hear you in the kitchen actually, you seem to be shuffling the black trash bag. It seems like it was pretty big and you struggled. He would offer to help you but it looks like you can handle it and plus — he wouldn’t want to get himself caught.

It was pretty dark already. Mark couldn’t help but think you didn’t even notice anything strange of someone coming inside her house. Like you must really have some slow self awareness. He wonders if you’re just slow or maybe you trust the world too much.

‘There are some pretty weird guys out there Y/n…’ Mark thought deeply as he shakes his head. He would scold you and tell you to not leave the door open like this even if it was for a second and you’d be back to close it.

Furthermore the obsessive curiosity about wanting to get to know you more has irked some wrongful convictions. Heading up the stairs when you were in the downstairs bathroom, Mark took his time snooping around your bedroom now. Your bedroom smelled exactly how he imagined it to smell. Smell of you. It kills him knowing you sleep here where you are all alone without him because he has the deep feelings to hold you but he cannot do that. He doesn’t even speak to you. If anything Mark is pretty much all in knowing you would not feel the same way. Mark took this moment to heart observing your beautiful decorated room.

Fair lights were hung out against the windows and your bed frame. Your double bed looks so soft like a floating cloud in middle of nowhere in this space. You have a giant wardrobe and that instantly excites Mark. He saw that pretty white dress, and your shirts and tank tops. Mark took his time exploring your wonderful clothes. Some of them look so small on your nice curvy figure. You’re shaped like a hourglass and he freaking loves it.

Mark takes his time not to think of you so much like this. He doesn’t want to be known for only looking and staring at you because of your beautiful body and appearance no, he really likes you on the inside too. If anything Mark’s feeling were a form of an attachment because of your character and not your traits.

But when he came across your cupboard where you keep all your lingerie Mark feels something growing inside him. Something so dark and uncontrollable.

He didn’t know what to do when the sight of your beautiful perky bras were in front of him. They smell of wonderful vanilla and laundry washing. It was so soft and the smell was overwhelming like the starting of spring season upon the winter. It dissolved into his nostrils the more he brings the bra forward and he touched it.

Mark wanted to die of embarrassment honestly. He saw what he was doing. He was becoming a perv. He was perving on you in your own house and you don’t even know he was inside your bloody house but a part of him was even more thrilled somehow. Because you don’t know any of this was happening. Mark grew more and more undeniably into you. He grow stronger, his feelings for you grew even more and Mark cannot hold back when the pairs of panties he opens up to look at them. It was the final straw. Your panties. He takes the one that took his eyes most. A pair of innocent white panties. The soft fabric melts in his hands and he brings it back up to his face. The guy who wasn’t meant to be here in this place anyways, was now sniffing your panties like it was all he was created for. Mark groans against the fabric. He could just imagine them on you and it makes him grow by the thought down below.

Your name was running through his mind. He was just so obsessed with you at this point if you’re not his Mark doesn’t know what he will do. The way his nostrils flare when your scent mixing in with the laundry detergent makes him feral. Mark was a feral beast under the disguise of such a loyal respectful young man he shows himself to there told. Deep down he was a lustful sinner, just for you. Mark never thought that he was so unlucky to be a human. You’re wearing these panties everyday. He wished he could be the one you wear him around like this, Mark just wants to be so close to you that he’s under your skin. It was such a weird thought. But he’s always been into these weirdly true metaphors. He enjoys poetry, because you are poetry itself to him and his eyes. Mark should thank God for creating you.

Maybe you’re the one for him, Mark thought. Maybe you’re the one he was meant to be with and Mark pleads it is you. Because if another guy was with you that was not him, Mark doesn’t think he can accept that reality as real.

When the footsteps approach the door Mark was so caught up in his horny-thoughts because he was sniffing and caressing your panties while at the same time he has gotten pretty hard on for it. He almost forgot where he was. Your house. The man flinched to the nearest closet and stays hidden between the many jackets and clothes. Luckily it was dark but he could see a peak of light slap against Mark’s eyes. He was glad he could see you walk in. The minute you came into his view as he was hidden in your closet unaware of your complete knowledge; he smiles seeing your beautiful long hair and your legs and thighs. You wore such pretty tight shorts on at home. He never once thought to his living days he would see you wear this much less clothes on. He was not complaining at all. It’s already bad because Mark has your panties in his hands still. He happened to take them with him and he’s pretty rock hard in his jeans.

What happened next blows Mark’s mind. The guy only looks away for a second. Only a second and you’re on your bed spread nicely with your legs wide open. He never thought he would get to see this either but this truthfully shocks him. Mark is seeing you strip yourself off your clothes — he saw your bare back first which was enough to have him sweating in the closet as he was peaking at you. Your shorts slipped off the ground and you turned on your laptop. He could hear a few good moans coming from the video you’re watching.

Mark couldn’t believe it. He’s watching you pleasure yourself on your bed wide legs open with you pretty pussy out. He saw the way your hands were skilfully pressing on your clit teasing it. You look hella frustrated he won’t lie but Mark couldn’t agree more he wished he could be right there to eat you out. To lick you clean and clean you out off your frustrations. Mark wished it was him between your legs and not your poor hand now because you’re flicking your fingers forward and pushing your pelvis up for more freedom and pressure. The moans on the videos got louder but Mark was only paying attention to you.

You were with all his attention on.

“I never knew you’d have such a slutty side to you, Y/n. What else are you hiding underneath that good girl façade?”

He whispers to himself barely audible for anyone else. It was just words for himself and you were too busy to even hear him because your moans were overlapping with the video you’re watching with your eyes. You struggle and squirm now as your fingers became a faster pace for your clit to take even all the abuse you’re inflicting on it. Mark watches you intensely. He could tell you’re enjoying this so much, even though it must be very lonely for you, Mark enjoys watching you masturbate right in front of him and so he couldn’t handle it. The sounds of your moans were tempting him to do sin. Mark without any second thoughts he unbuckles the jeans and slips it off to the ankles letting his boxers fall down too. Mark tried his best to get a good view with his eyes on the peak on the closer. The darkness makes it hard to see the light. However he managed to get a good view again of your beautiful pink pussy that looks so wet and he likes to assume it’s dripping just for him.

He imagines what he could do. The stuff he’d do to you when he was there. If he was there pleasuring you. He would make sure you’d never forget the moment if he ever had the opportunity to pleasure you, Mark would make sure it’s one you cannot move from.

He was greedy and he was getting greedier by the sight of you in front of him. Mark slowly strokes his long hard length now to the sounds you’re making. The feeling of your walls fluttering open when your fingers curl inside you. You have on your mind a lot of things and these things aren’t something you can share with other people. You want to be fucked. It’s simple but it’s a lot harder because you cannot find the pleasure you’re seeking. You want to tell yourself to surpass this side out of you. However it gets stronger the more you ignore it. You arch yourself when you push out your hips now, they practical hump the air around it with force of your hips shoving out and your fingers continue to abuse your swollen clit.

Mark is clutching on his tip rubbing down the slit like it is a gown of sorts. He was watching you become a spilling mess. The gentle spillage of your water but you’re not exactly cumming yet. Mark can tell you are edging yourself because you don’t want this to end as soon as possible. You must be really frustrated. Mark wonders what goes inside that head of yours. He always thought you were someone who didn’t have these urges even though it was human nature to he strongly believed you had none of those. Mark wasn’t sure why. Maybe it’s because he only sees you at Church. He doesn’t necessarily know you well enough to speak to you. But he does like you a lot.

This crush he has on you is something more than a crush but at the same time it’s still a pretty new thing he’s experiencing. Mark never once went in a house that he wasn’t invited to and watched a girl get herself off. Never.

But he was glad it’s you. Mark can’t help but push down his hand even more in the length. Soon enough the two of you were pleasuring each other with the sounds. However, you were watching the screen of your laptop instead. Mark was wishfully watching you wanting to be inside you so bad. The sight of your pussy looking so tempting. As if it is taunting him to just fuck you right there and come out of the closet. But he knew he can’t do that.

He can’t explain himself to you if he was in your closet like this. You would definitely never want to see him again.

The panties he kept with him, Mark licks and smells them. He works his way with his tongue between the slant of your panties. They smell so good. They smell of you.

He loves them so much Mark doesn’t think he can give them back to you anymore.

Your eyes roll back from the pleasure when it became clear that you’re no longer able to hold back. He took the sign to faster his hands on his giant rock hard cock. Mark moves the hands against the slit and pushed down the thumb. He caressed himself quickly while he’s watching you so intensely now. Mark held in his hitch voice just so he could not get caught by the pleasuring noises he was having and making. Instead he just focused on your itching voice piercing the room by echos of your moans.

You sound heavenly when you’re panting after you finally orgasm. Mark could not put this moment above anything because this was one of the most pulsing and best orgasms he had. He lets out a wispy groan, “Y/n….” Mark came right on with you on his hand. There was a lot of seed in his palm. Mark never comes this big of a batch. He was surprised but this was thanks to you.

He saw the trembling thighs of yours as you close them holding your own sex as you roll over with a pausing high pitch moan. He loves when you’re stimulating yourself to the point you couldn’t touch your own clit again without flinching and letting out a pained out wince.

It’s attractive to see you torture yourself with the overwhelming amount of pleasure.

Mark was worried now, he just knew from the moment on this wasn’t going to be just a mere crush he has on you.

How will he confess to God what he has witnessed? Even if he did tell what he did was wrong. Mark loved it so much, he wouldn’t go back to change it. If he went back to the past — he would do it all over again…

Now he knew for sure,,

This is the beginning of the Sin & Obsession he has on you…

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating copyrighting and plagiarising my work thank youu <3 Reblog this fic and follow me for more it helps a girl out.

[navybrat817]

Home Video

Pairing: Dark!Nick Fowler x Female Reader

Summary: Nick has the perfect movie to watch with you.

Word Count: 500

Warnings: Implied NONCON/DUBCON, held hostage, possessive and obsessive behavior, light pussy slapping, voyeurism of sorts, Nick Fowler (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: The Basement Spouses Writing Challenge Week 3! Character: Nick Fowler. Length: 250-500 words. Prompt: "Test me one more time and I won’t hesitate to wring that pretty little neck of yours." ❤️ A small follow up to See Through You. Written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @saradika . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Nick fluffed your pillow with a smile as he finished setting the bedroom up for movie night. He told you he had a hectic day at work and needed to unwind. You glanced at the makeshift table beside the bed where the snacks and drinks were waiting, but made no move to grab anything. It wasn’t because you weren’t hungry.

It was because Nick decided to bind your hands before he did anything else.

He stretched out beside you, still dressed in his work clothes minus his jacket and shoes. You were completely naked, of course, since he liked you best without clothes. You missed being in your own bed, but you hadn’t been home since that fateful day at the carnival. It was difficult to even look at your own reflection without remembering how he fucked you in front of so many mirrors.

“I think you’re going to love this one,” Nick smiled as he pressed a couple of buttons on the remote, a familiar room showing up on the screen at the foot of the bed.

“Oh, my god,” you whispered as you saw yourself on the television, your body stretched out in your old bed as you touched yourself. You almost didn’t want to believe him when he admitted that he bugged your place. That he knew what you sounded like when you came. But his obsession and passion for you ran deep. “Nick-”

“Told you, sweetheart,” he groaned, palming himself as you tore your gaze away. “You make such pretty noises.”

“Turn it off,” you whispered, shutting your eyes when you heard yourself moan from the speakers. “Please.”

“Why would I do that? Listen to you,” he said, forcing your legs apart so he could slide his hand between them. You whimpered as he mimicked the motions he saw on the screen. His fingers were longer, his touch more possessive than your own. “Music to my fucking ears.”

“Stop touching me,” you demanded, trying to shut your legs.

“No, sweetheart,” he said as he turned the volume up, your cries building in the room.

“Shut it off!” you yelled over the sound. “Stop touching me!”

He took a breath before he removed his hand and licked his fingers in silence. Before you could sigh in relief, he brought it back with a hard smack to your pussy. You shrieked when he did it again. “Test me one more time and I won’t hesitate to wring that pretty little neck of yours.”

“Sorry,” you said immediately, shivering when brought his hand to your neck and rested it there. He promised he wouldn’t hurt you and you believed him. Was it a lie? “I’m sorry, Nick.”

A second passed before he chuckled, but you didn’t laugh with him. “Oh, sweetheart. I’d never hurt you,” he promised, groaning as he looked at the screen again. “But I will make you come harder than any of your toys ever could. And you’ll sound even prettier when you take my cock.”

He's deranged and I love him. 😈 Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Nick Fowler Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[corroded-hellfire]

OMG Wait for thé As You Wish baby Eliza idea fics I was thinking about something like this: https://www.tiktok.com/t/ZTRTyDcC5/

All of the Munson family is on the floor lined up and cooing at baby Eliza to crawl/walk towards one of them to see who she favors more.

Eliza Munson is now an obsession of mine. I love her almost as much as Eddie does. @munson-blurbs and I had so much fun (as we always do together) writing this and having the little Munson family get weird and have fun 🩷

Words: 1.2k

[As You Wish masterlist]

“Come on, Eliza,” Luke says with a sigh. He pulls out the chair next to her highchair and plops down in it. “Why won’t she just eat it?”

“Would you want to eat strained peas?” Ryan asks, brandishing the label on the baby food jar at his little brother. “It probably tastes worse than normal peas.”

Luke hops up and dips his pinky into the jar. He sticks it in his mouth and immediately pulls it right back out. His face scrunches up in repulsion and he makes a gagging sound. “Yep. Definitely worse.”

“Don’t make that face in front of her!” Ryan chides. “She’ll never want to eat it!”

But the little giggles from the highchair have both boys turning to look at their sister. Her big eyes are focused on Luke as he makes his face of disgust. 

“You think that’s funny, huh?” Luke says, leaning in towards the nine-month-old. “You like when I make silly faces?” He puckers his lips together like a fish, which has Eliza giggling even harder. “You love me so much, don’t you?” Luke swore he’d never cave in and use the baby-talk voice that everyone else uses with his sister, but that didn’t last very long. Now he uses it almost every time he talks to her. 

“All right, Eliza,” Ryan says, bringing a small spoonful of the unappetizing green baby food up towards her lips. “You gonna have some food now? Have some yummy lunch?”

“Don’t lie to her,” Luke says, making Ryan roll his eyes. 

“Don’t listen to him,” Ryan tells the baby. “Gonna open up? Yeah, there you go.” Eliza holds her tiny mouth open long enough for Ryan to feed her the peas. Eliza makes a face at the unpleasant taste on her tongue and smacks her lips together a few times, but she doesn’t spit it out. 

“Yes!” Ryan cheers. “I did it! I got her to eat her vegetables.”

“Well, yeah,” Luke says with a scoff. “Because I made her laugh.”

“She laughs at anything. The other day, I unzipped my coat and she laughed so hard that she farted,” Ryan retorts, bringing another small spoonful of peas to his sister’s lips. 

Luke pouts, sticking his tongue out at Ryan. “You’re just jealous because I’m obviously her favorite.”

“Ha! In your dreams.”

“Wanna bet?”

That’s how you and Eddie find your three children sprawled out on the family room floor. Luke and Ryan are on one side, and Eliza’s on the other. 

“C’mon! Come over here!” Ryan calls out, motioning the baby towards him. “You can do it, Eliza!”

“Do I even wanna know what you two are up to?” Eddie asks, smirking at the boys. 

“Trying to see which one of us is her favorite,” Luke casually replies, as though this is a normal occurrence. 

“Ah, well, at least you’re not training her for some sort of horse racing thing with babies,” Eddie laughs, scratching at the stubble on his chin. “Anyway, don’t worry about who her favorite is.”

“She loves us equally,” you remind them with a patient smile. 

But Eddie rolls his eyes playfully. “Uh, no. I was gonna say that they don’t need to worry about it because I’m clearly the favorite.”

“Ha!” you bark out. “Remember whose body housed her for nine months and produced food for her. I literally gave her life. Therefore, I should be the favorite.”

“You should be,” Eddie says, a glimmer of mischief dancing in his eyes, “however, you’ve neglected to account for the fact that she’s a total daddy’s girl.”

Ryan’s next to speak up. “Well, I’m the one who named her. If you left it up to Luke, we’d be calling her Squidward.”

“Only if she was a boy!” Luke protests. “Besides, I make her laugh the most. She knows I’m funny, so I’m her favorite.”

Eddie turns to you. “I think there’s only one way to settle this,” he says with a shrug. 

“I think so,” you agree. Turning towards the boys, you motion for them to scoot down so that you can get down on the floor next to them. Eddie scoops up Eliza from where she’d wandered over towards the toy box in the corner of the room. He straightens the tiny black Metallica shirt she’s wearing and sits her down in the middle of the room. 

“Here we go,” he says, pressing a kiss to her head before coming over to get on the ground next to you. “Okay, on the count of three, everyone start calling for her. Ready? One, two, three.”

“Come on, baby!” you call, making grabby hands for your daughter.

“Eliza! C’mere to Daddy, baby girl!”

“Hey, hey, Eliza!” Luke coos. “Over here!”

“You know you love your big brother Ryan! Come here!”

Eliza stays seated in her spot, her eyes roaming over her four family members, wondering what in the hell they are doing. She’s seen some weird things in her nine months, but never this. 

“Luke, stop making funny faces. You’re distracting her!” Ryan says.

“I’m trying to get her to come over here!” he responds. 

The baby finally pushes herself into a crawling position and starts to move. The four older family members practically hold their breath as they wait to see in what direction she’s headed. Eliza veers to the right, headed towards Eddie. Her father lets out an evil, triumphant laugh and grins as she gets closer. 

“That’s right, baby. Show them Daddy is your favorite.” But then her movements pause, and Eliza begins to head towards her mother.

“Yes!” you say, encouragingly. “That’s my sweet girl!” You shoot a smirk over your shoulder at Eddie. “You were saying?” 

Eliza starts crawling towards you, but Ryan starts drumming his hands against the carpet and that catches her attention. Her course once again changes, and she heads towards her brothers.

“No!” you say. “Don’t betray me! My only daughter!”

“Uh, mine too, ya know,” Eddie says from the other side of you. “Eliza, remember who always sings you to sleep.” He launches into the chorus of “Enter Sandman,” headbanging while the little girl giggles. 

Your heart sinks as Eliza starts towards him, but she immediately stops crawling when she hears the knock at the door and sits back on her diaper-padded bottom. 

“That must be Wayne,” Eddie says. He’d invited him over for dinner, and the older man never turns down an opportunity to see his grandkids. “Come in!” he calls out, not moving from his spot on the floor. 

The doorknob twists as Wayne enters, heavy-footed in steel-toed boots. His gaze is drawn immediately to the five of you on the floor. 

“What on God’s green Earth did I walk into?”

Luke’s the only one not remotely embarrassed. “Trying to see who Eliza loves the most,” he casually explains. 

Before Wayne can formulate a response, the baby does an about-face and crawls directly to him. She sits at his feet, making grabby hands and whining so he’ll pick her up. 

“Huh,” Wayne says with a grin. “Wouldja look at that.  Seems like Miss Eliza chose me!”

The rest of you groan and grumble, erupting into a chorus of not fairs. 

“Does this mean that Grampa Wayne is her favorite?” Luke asks, unable to hide his envy. 

Wayne laughs, tickling his granddaughter’s feet. “C’mon, you didn’t need a competition to know that!”

Eliza claps her hands together clumsily in agreement. 

“The princess has spoken,” Eddie begrudgingly agrees. A glint of mischief flickers across his deep brown eyes as he looks at his uncle. “Unfortunately, the prize is changing her diaper. And, uh, she’s really been into prunes lately, so…” he claps a hand on Wayne’s back. “Congrats!”

[its-time-to-write]

Hi love! Im obsessed with your writing. They actually make my whole day!!

I was wondering if you could do something with like protective!Jamie? Like maybe they’re out at a club and some guy won’t leave her alone!

Whatever you like? Thank you!

I did it! I didn’t know what gif to put with this. Wasn’t sure I’d finish it this weekend, but I got it done! I have finals next week, which either means I’m going to have a bunch of time or none at all. And again, thank you for being so kind. Many anonymous requests are not. 💚🍊

don’t go yet

Roy only lets Jamie go to the club when Richmond has won, which is why you’re both dressed up tonight. 

“You can have two drinks. Not fucking four, not fucking three, two. And if you fucking go over, your girlfriend will fucking tell me,” Roy had said.

Jamie had relayed this to you, more than a tad scandalized, but you just shrugged and said, “Roy’s not wrong.”

So now you’re at the club and Jamie’s had one drink that he’s been making last way too long, but he’s finally downed it and you’ve offered to grab him another one. Dani’s in the middle of some hilarious story about his old team, involving shaving cream, an unsuspecting coach, and… snails? Anyway, Jamie’s deeply invested in whatever it is which is why you’re at the bar waiting for your drinks and he’s sitting down. 

You’re contemplating what you want to do to Jamie once you get home, when an unfamiliar body sidles up to the space next to you.

You half-turn away to give him more space, but he just moves closer so you give him a look. The man, oblivious, says, “Hello gorgeous, name’s Max. What’s a sexy little thing like you doing out here all alone?”

Any distaste you had been stifling out of politeness ends. “I’m not alone, I’m here with my boyfriend,” you reply shortly. 

Max makes a show of surveying the room. “Don’t see him,” he says, “so I suppose you’re fair game.”

Your drinks appear, and you grab them. “I’ve got to go.”

“Hey now, I’m only trying to be fucking friendly. Your boyfriend doesn’t let you have friends?” He’s now blocking your path back to Jamie. You try to dodge around him, but he won’t let you. 

Max does not like that, and he snarls, “Don’t be such a bitch, I’m sure your boyfriend wouldn’t mind me having a turn, especially if he lets you out of the house looking like that.”

Your words catch in your throat, and before you can look around for help, there’s a tap on Max’s shoulder. 

“Oi mate,” says Jamie, voice calm but eyes simmering with rage, “pretty sure she wants to be left alone.”

Max turns to assess Jamie and you dart past him, behind your boyfriend. “And what’s it to you, shithead?”

Oh god. The last thing Jamie needs is to get into a fight tonight. You know that Nate would love nothing more than to bench Jamie whenever an opportunity presents itself. 

“Jamie,” you whisper, “let it go.”

Jamie doesn’t even look at you. “I’m her boyfriend, shithead.”

Max’s eyes betray a hint of surprise, then before you or Jamie can do anything he moves to shove Jamie. Jamie tenses up for a push that never happens, because Isaac has shown up from out of nowhere and has grabbed Max from behind. 

“Time to go, bruv,” Isaac says as he and Dani haul Max away.

Jamie fists are still clenched as he turns to you. Despite the anger on his face, his voice is gentle. “You alright, love?” 

You nod wordlessly and hand Jamie his drink. He takes both of them and puts them down. Your brain is playing catch-up because everything happened so fast.

“You wanna go?” he asks.

You nod again then shake your head. “No!” you protest, “This is your night out!”

Jamie’s hands are on your waist now, and you’re a little grateful because it’s grounding. You’re still reeling a bit.

“Babe,” he says, “I’m fucking exhausted, and you are too. And don’t fuckin’ lie, it ain’t gonna work. You’ve got little circles under your eyes. Let’s go home.”

You shut your mouth and sigh. That boy. He knows you too well. 

On your way out he says, “Can we do face masks? Can feel me face losing its sexy glow.”

You smile and squeeze his hand. Only Jamie can make a shit night into something good.

[thedvilsinthedetails]

microfic for @wolfstarmicrofic

written with the prompt ‘be mine’

Word count: 1134 (sorry this one’s quite long)

First half here

It just kept getting worse. And Remus wasn’t sure how much more he could take. 

“You look amazing today Moony.”

Sirius batted his eyes as he reached out a hand and took Remus’. He began to fiddle with his rings, twisting them round, leaning closer and closer and-

“God you just won’t quit will you?”

Sirius raised a single eyebrow at him as he spoke.

“You haven’t asked me to. Why haven’t you asked me to?”

“Well I didn’t think that would work.”

Remus muttered, dropping his gaze down.

“Do you want me to stop?”

Remus balled up his hands into little fists. He was blushing profusely now, he knew.

“The month is nearly up, I mean there’s not really much point so-“

“You don’t want me to stop.”

Remus snuck a look up and fuck that was a mistake. Sirius looked like, well godrick, he looked like a fucking Greek god, grinning smugly down at where Remus was sat on the bed. 

“Moony…do you like me?”

“I-“

Remus just trailed off. It was over. Years of pining. Years of unrequited love. Years of wishing the butterflies in his stomach would fly away or just die already. Years of wishing more than anything that Sirius would just-

Sirius sat down next to him, lifting a hand up tentatively, hovering it over Remus’ chin.

“Moony can I kiss you?”

“Yes.”

Remus had barely breathed it out when he felt warm lips crash into his. He sighed into it immediately and brought his hand up to the nape of Sirius’ neck, fisting it in his lovely, lovely curls there. His fucking hair. The only fucking reason he was kissing him at all. And Remus was sick and pandering and doting and fucking obsessed with Sirius but this, this was fucking selfish. I’m in love with you. And you’re kissing me. I’m in love with you and you’re kissing me and the only reason you’re kissing me is because you don’t want  a haircut. And I’m ok with that and I’m so, so fucking happy right now and this is the happiest I’ll ever be in my entire life because I am too fucking weak to cut you out of it.  And isn’t that so sad? That I live for you even if you don’t care. That I will never move on and I will never not love you. But you will never love me. And I’m ok with that. I wish I wasn’t. I wish I wasn’t I wish I wasn’t I wish I wasn’t I wish I wasn’t I wish I-

Sirius shifted his lips to Remus’ neck and Remus gasped a breath. He took the moment as a break, seeing clarity and shoving Sirius off the bed. Sirius fell away stumbling, eyebrows furrowed.

“Hey what the fuck was-“

Remus let out a sob. Sirius’ expression immediately changed. Anger gone, replaced with concern and fucking caring. Don’t pretend to care about me please I’m begging you just be mean, be cruel, mock me. It makes it easier.

“Remus, hey, hey, look at me what’s wrong?”

Sirius reached a hand to touch his cheek and Remus batted it away, trying to fight the tears because Remus Lupin does not cry. But he’s crying now. 

“Don’t, DON’T fucking touch me!”

“Remus what happened? What did I do wrong?”

“Just get out of here for fuck’s sake. Leave me alone. You got what you wanted, no fucking haircut for you Mr irresistible. I hope it was fucking worth it.”

And then Sirius began to laugh. Laugh and laugh and laugh and laugh and mock and belittle and Remus cried. It was like a fucking stab to the heart. Thank merlin though. Now I can hate him. Get over him and hate him. But that was a lie too because Remus Lupin could never hate Sirius Black. I’ll pretend to hate you. I know I will. But the moment you call I’ll come fucking crawling because I am pathetic. I’ll be pathetic for you. Always. Fucking always. I hate you I hate you I hate you I love you. I love you and I hate you for it.

“Moony…you think that’s why I wanted to kiss you?”

Sirius’ eyes were crinkled, smile wide and he looked goddamn angelic which really wasn’t bloody helping Remus get over him. How dare you be so cruel and look so sweet? 

“Of course it’s why you wanted to kiss me. You and your fucking bet! There’s no other- and it’s fucking low you know? It’s fucking low because I am in love with you Sirius Black. And you kissed me to win a fucking bet. And I am in love with you.”

His face crumpled as he said ‘love’, tears were fast rolling down his face now, he didn’t bother trying to wipe them away. They’d just get replaced again and it wasn’t fucking worth it. 

“Moony, mo- Remus. Please look at me. I lost the bet.”

Remus glanced up.

“What?”

“I lost the bet. The bet was to get you to kiss me. I kissed you. I lost the bet.”

“Then why…”

“Because I like you Moony. I like you a lot. Hell, I’m in love with you too! The only reason I made that fucking bet was to have an excuse to flirt with you openly because… man you are fucking clueless!”

“Are you lying? Because I swear to god if this is a lie I’ll-“

Sirius let out a laugh, his eyes were shining now too, they were a stormy grey like a night sky about to rain with still un-shed tears.

“No I’m not lying.”

Remus reached out a hand and wrapped it around Sirius’ waist, tugging him onto his lap. Sirius immediately straddled him, kissing the tears on his cheeks.

“You taste salty.”

“No shit Sherlock.”

“Wow. Ok Merlin you’re such a bad romantic.”

“You made a bet so you could flirt with me so um, pot calling the kettle black there I think.”

Sirius chuckled.

“Remus?”

He asked quietly, face nuzzled against his neck.

“Yeah?”

“Be mine?”

Remus shifted slightly, taking Sirius head and cupping his face gently so he could see him. He looked vulnerable. And Sirius Black never looked vulnerable. But here he was, wide eyes painted in fear. And Remus Lupin didn’t cry. But here he was covered in a trail of tears. 

“Always was, always will be love.”

And he kissed him. And it was everything.

•••

“And now you don’t have to cut your bloody hair.”

He whispered in Sirius’ ear. Sirius smiled softly where he was curled up against Remus’ chest. 

“I love you. So much.”

He added. He needed to make up for all the times he could have- should have said it but didn’t. 

“I love you too.”

[atriza]

Unraveling Threads pt. 3

Yandere Five Hargreeves x Reader

Part one Part two

Summary: Y/N, trapped in a windowless room by Five Hargreeves, decides she must escape his obsessive grip. After convincing Five to take her for a walk outside, she spots an opportunity and makes a desperate run for freedom through a forest. Despite her efforts, Five catches up to her after a painful fall down an embankment. His anger and betrayal are clear, and he reasserts his control over Y/N, telling her she can never leave. As she is led back into captivity, Y/N realizes there may be no escape from his obsession.

Word count: 995

**Content Warning:**

This story contains dark and potentially distressing themes, including obsessive behavior, violence, manipulation, and psychological distress. It portrays a relationship that is unhealthy and toxic, where one character exhibits controlling and possessive tendencies that lead to extreme actions.

If you are sensitive to these themes or find them triggering, please consider skipping this story.

Have Fun Reading!

Days blended into an agonizing blur for Y/N. Time felt meaningless in the small, windowless room where she was held. The only break in the monotony was Five’s visits—always calm, always collected, always terrifyingly gentle. He would bring her meals, talk to her in a low, soothing voice, and watch her with an intensity that made her skin crawl. The more time passed, the clearer it became that Five’s obsession had spiraled into something far darker than she had imagined.

Y/N knew she had to act. Waiting for Five to come to his senses wasn’t an option anymore. Every time he looked at her, she could feel the walls of her prison closing in, tightening with each passing second. The only way out was to escape—and she had to do it soon.

One evening, when Five entered the room with her dinner, Y/N forced a smile, masking the fear gnawing at her insides. "Five," she began, her voice steady despite the storm raging in her mind, "I’ve been thinking… You’re right. About everything."

Five paused, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. He set the tray down and turned to face her fully, his expression softening. "You’ve come to understand," he said quietly, a hint of relief in his voice.

"I have," Y/N lied, her heart pounding in her chest. She had practiced these words over and over in her mind, knowing this was her one chance. "I know you’re doing this to protect me. And I’m grateful, really. But I can’t stay in this room forever. Maybe…maybe we could go outside? Just for a little while. You’ll be with me the whole time, and I promise I won’t run."

Five studied her closely, his gaze piercing, as if he were trying to read her thoughts. For a moment, Y/N thought she had failed—that he would see through her ruse. But then he nodded, though his eyes remained wary. "We can go for a walk," he agreed, "but you have to understand—if you try to run, I’ll have no choice but to bring you back here. I won’t let anything happen to you, Y/N. I can’t."

Y/N forced herself to meet his gaze, giving him a small, reassuring smile. "I won’t run. I just want to be with you."

The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, but it was the only way to get out. As Five led her down a narrow hallway and up a flight of stairs, Y/N’s mind raced, desperately trying to formulate a plan. She had no idea where they were or how far away help might be, but it didn’t matter. She had to take the risk.

When they emerged into the cool evening air, Y/N inhaled deeply, savoring the taste of freedom, however brief it might be. They were in the middle of a dense forest, the trees towering above them, their branches swaying gently in the breeze. The sky was a deepening shade of twilight, the sun dipping below the horizon, casting long shadows across the ground.

"This way," Five said, gesturing toward a narrow path that wound through the trees. "It’s quiet here. Safe."

Y/N nodded, her pulse quickening as she followed him down the trail. The further they walked, the more she scanned the area for any sign of escape—a break in the trees, a path leading in another direction, anything that could offer her a chance.

Then, she saw it—a faint, barely visible trail leading off into the woods, partially hidden by thick underbrush. Her heart leapt into her throat. This was her chance. She had to act now, before it was too late.

"Thank you for bringing me out here, Five," she said, forcing her voice to remain calm and steady. "It’s nice to feel the fresh air again."

Five glanced at her, his expression softening slightly. "I’m glad you’re starting to feel better," he replied, though his tone was still cautious. "We can do this more often, if it helps."

Y/N nodded, her mind racing. She knew she had to time this perfectly. Taking a deep breath, she squeezed his hand gently—a small, calculated move to lower his guard. Then, without warning, she yanked her hand free and bolted down the hidden trail, her feet pounding against the earth as she ran.

"Y/N!" Five’s voice rang out behind her, sharp with alarm. She didn’t look back, didn’t dare slow down. The underbrush scratched at her legs, branches whipped at her face, but she pushed through the pain, driven by pure adrenaline and the desperate need to escape.

But she could hear him behind her, his footsteps growing closer, faster. Five was relentless, and Y/N knew he wouldn’t stop until he had her back under his control. She could barely breathe, her chest burning with each gasping breath, but she couldn’t stop—she had to keep going, had to get away.

Suddenly, the ground gave way beneath her, and Y/N let out a cry as she tumbled down a steep embankment. Her body crashed through the undergrowth, pain shooting through her limbs as she hit the ground hard. Dazed and disoriented, she lay there for a moment, the world spinning around her.

She barely had time to catch her breath before Five was there, standing at the top of the embankment, his expression a mix of anger and something that looked like betrayal. He slowly descended toward her, each step deliberate, as if he were trying to keep his emotions in check.

"I told you not to run," he said quietly, his voice low and dangerous. "Why didn’t you listen, Y/N?"

Y/N’s breath hitched in her throat, her heart hammering against her ribs. "Five…please," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I was scared. I—I didn’t mean to—"

Five cut her off with a sharp gesture, his eyes narrowing. "You promised me," he said, his voice cold. "You said you wouldn’t run. I trusted you, Y/N."

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision as she looked up at him. "I’m sorry," she choked out, her voice barely above a whisper. "Please, just let me go…"

For a moment, Five’s expression softened, and Y/N thought she saw a flicker of the man she once knew—the man who had saved her, who had made her feel safe. But then, just as quickly, the cold, calculating mask slipped back into place.

"I can’t let you go," he said, his voice resolute. "Not now. Not ever. You’re mine, Y/N. You’re my fixed point."

With those words, any hope of reasoning with him vanished. Five reached down and grabbed her arm, his grip firm but not cruel, and pulled her to her feet. Y/N winced as pain shot through her ankle, but she knew there was no point in resisting. She was too exhausted, too injured, and Five was far too strong.

As he led her back through the woods, Y/N’s mind raced, searching for any possible way out of this nightmare. But deep down, she knew the truth. There was no escape. Not from Five. Not from the man who had made her his entire world.

And as they disappeared into the shadows of the forest, Y/N couldn’t shake the feeling that her fate was sealed—that no matter what she did, she would never truly be free.

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

I hope you like it 🫶🏻

[sweetiecutie]

Pairing: Theodore Nott x fem! Reader

Warnings: second part of this writing is smut so beware, fluff, a bit of insecurities

A/n: I don’t write much about Theo but I’ve had a suffocating obsession with him for so fucking long!! I can’t bottle up those thoughts in my head anymore so I just have to share those with you guys

Theodore Nott dating headcanons

Okay, hear me out, Theo had the fattest crush on you for at least four months before he ever actually approached you! It’s most probable for you to share some of your classes and he happened to sit next to you or behind you, getting to hear your little chats with your friends or even having full conversations with you personally

He would def ogle you from across the great hall during all meals, and not gonna lie - it freaked the fuck out of you at first. Because Theodore doesn’t have this ‘I’m so painfully in love with you’ stare, but rather a ‘I wanna slit your throat with a salad knife’ kind of stare, yk? But once you’ve had a nice chat with him all your worries evaporated bc this boy is a total sweetheart, just a bit shy and introverted

Theo would be very clear with his intentions from the very beginning, so when he asked you out for the first time he added a timid “But I mean it as a date, if you don’t mind” at the end, his cheeks growing rosy and you couldn’t help but feel your heart swell at how adorable Theo looked

Mean to everyone but you trope!! It’s no secret that Theo is all grumpy and gloomy, no one gets surprised by his rather rash mood swings (which are usually bad mood changing to disastrously bad mood), but when he’s with you? Boy, that is a whole another person - he’s all smiley and flirty, joking around, trying to see that precious smile of yours he adores so much

He remembers everything, and I mean everything, about you. What your hobbies are, things that you are interested in, your favorite actors and singers, which flavors and fragrances you like and which you don’t etc. I swear, this man pays more attention to your little whims than to his classes

He loves snuggles so much🥺 His mother passed away shortly after giving birth to Theodore, and his father, being a strict and reserved person he is, wasn’t able to give that parenting love and tenderness to his son, so Theo is touch-starved for sure. He loves every kind of physical touch - handholding, hugging, cuddling, kissing, snuggling - bring it all in

So so devoted. He had been dying for being close to you for so long, and now that he finally has you - there’s no way he’s going to fuck everything up with some stupid flings. In fact, Theodore is all about long-term relationships, and I feel like even an idea of having a one-night stand deeply disgusts him

But Theodore is also very possessive. And it’s not like he doesn’t trust you enough, it’s all the people around you that cannot be trusted. But it’s also his insecurities talking in him - what if you find someone better? Someone smarter and more attractive and you’ll leave him, heartbroken and lonely. Theo is deeply attached to you, and even the thought of you breaking up with him hurts poor boy deeply

Theo has some anger management issues, so there are times when he asks you to leave him alone to cool down, so that he won’t say anything to you in a fit of fury that he’ll heavily regret afterwards

Random dances are really a thing in your relationship! Very often you find yourself waltzing with Theo to a non-existent tune in your head, spinning each other around and giggling like small kids. And if you don’t know how do waltz - don’t worry! Being a pure-blood automatically means being good at ball dances, Theo will teach you everything! And don’t worry about accidentally stomping on his shoes- he will never get mad or tell you off for that

Omg omg imagine being too careless and leaving blotches of your shiny microglitter lipgloss on his cheeks, chin and around his lips, not noticing them in a dim light. And Theo being absolutely clueless, walking around the castle all sparkly, not understanding why his slytherin pals are snickering and smiling slyly at him

I kinda have a feeling, that when you start dating Theo - you get Blaise Draco and Pansy as an additional gift. No matter what you two are doing or where you are - there will always be one or all of those around, teasing the shit out of both of you (mostly Theo)

Smokes like a fucking locomotive! But Theo will try his best to tame it if you chide him for that, leading to him being moodier due to lack of nicotine and untamed oral fixation. Or you’ll just start smoking as well, chain-smoking together and stealing each other’s lighters

NSFW

So as I already mentioned, Theodore is a long-term relationship kind of person, meaning that he needs a strong emotional connection with certain person to have sex with them. I strongly believe that he had every kind of fiste sexual experience with you - making out, grinding, mutual masturbation, oral and sex itself. To put it simply - Theo was a complete virgin

I think Theo would postpone any kind of sexual experience with you for as long as possible, too afraid to make you feel pressured or thinking that he’s with you only for sex. Actually, it’s more likely for you to initiate anything of that sort, and he still asks you “Are you sure that you want it?” every five minutes. Isn’t he adorable?🥺

But once you’ve actually had sex, Theodore can’t help but be desperate for more. He tries to suppress those distracting thoughts of doing oh so unholy things to your precious body as much as he can, but he crawls to you so needy and whiny just two days after, begging to be close to you again. And how can you say no when he stares down at you with those puppy eyes, whispering about how pretty you are and how horny he gets just from thinking about you

Omg he defo had wet dreams about you before you started dating. Imagine Theo trying his hardest to not think about you, annoyed by how hard he had fallen, and his subconscious playing evil jokes on poor boy, giving him some pretty livid pictures of you two together. Not so innocent pictures, I must note. Okay, not innocent at all. Dreams in which you were sat on top of him, looking down at Theo with those alluring beautiful eyes of yours, your breasts on full display right before his eyes. Or where he was laying in-between your legs, pleasuring you with all he had. The first time it ever happened Theo was shaken awake by Blaise who was mumbling something about oversleeping. Thanks Merlin Theo was laying on his side, so that his painful boner wasn’t poking so obviously through layers of his blankets. He was so embarrassed by himself he couldn’t even look at you for the next few days

He doesn’t makes too much noise during sex. Theodore is a quiet person in general - he talks only when it’s necessary and prefers to listen to others instead. That be said - he loooves hearing you moan and whimper and plea and babble in pleasure, so don’t even try to hold all those sweet little noises in. He really feels awkward about making any noises himself, but he lets you know just how good you make him feel with his facial expressions, long sighs and countless praises muttered into your ears with his ‘sexy Theo voice’

Loves loves loves eating pussy. Oh, this man goes absolutely feral, working his mouth on you, tongue flicking over your clit in quick tight circles, giving an occasional suck. And this man has completely mastered (with your help, of course) the perfect combination of tongue and fingers, being able to give you a mind-blowing orgasm in just five minutes

Marking marking marking marking. Leaves marks everywhere he can - your neck, chest, shoulders, tummy, thighs- everywhere. And please, please leave marks on his as well - leave hickeys and bite-marks in the most obvious places - he’d never cover them in his life, wearing them as the most treasured jewelry - just let everyone know that he’s yours

One of Theodore’s biggest turn-ons is spitting in your mouth and making you swallow it. No I’m not sorry for that

His favorite position is definitely missionary, where Theo is half-lying on top of you, intense skin against skin contact, your legs draped around his hips, pounding deep and slow into your dripping pussy, all while gazing into your eyes lovingly

Omgomg imagine having passionate sex with Theo with lots of heavy touching and open-mouthed kisses all while songs from “Awaken, My Love!” album by Childish Gambino are blaring on the background *chokes on spit and tears*

And here’s a lil addition💖

Likes, reblogs and comments are highly appreciated. Give writers some love - feedback is the thing that inspires us on creating more new content💖

[thetravelingmaster]

Short Story: Pandora’s Addiction

Female’s Point of View - Hypnosis

There is no greater high, pleasure or euphoria.

There simply isn’t. 

Happiness mimics it, but can fade or disappear.

Drugs can induce it, but leaves your body racked with side effects or hangovers.

Sexual release can surpass it, but only lasts for a fleeting instant.

There are any number of ways to feel mind melting pleasure, but none that are as constant and euphoric as the bliss of melting my mind through hypnosis.

It’s... Addicting... 

He informed me it would be like this. He warned that if I chose to follow him down the paths hidden inside my mind, I would discover something so profoundly life changing, that I wouldn’t be able to resist it.

I wasn’t the type to back down from a challenge, nor was I afraid of developing any sort of addictive behaviors. I just wasn’t that kind of person.

I brushed off his well intentioned warnings and told him that I was more than willing to try. 

To say that I had a clue as to how trance would feel would be a blatant lie. I expected to feel calm and relaxed, which I did of course. I expected it to feel a lot like meditation or unwinding at a spa.

I didn’t expect it to feel good.

Really good...

So good that I found myself daydreaming about it every day until I started to search for online files that could offer me the same inexplicable high I felt when I experienced my first trance.

 It was a bit like the dreams I have about running. Chasing after someone without being able to reach them. Feeling like your legs just won’t go as fast as you know they should.

The trances I experienced through those online files were a bit like that. I would sink down into a wonderful peaceful trance, but wake up with just a taste of the bliss my friend offered me.

Before I truly realized what I was doing, I made plans to have him hypnotize me again.

And again...

Was it the connection and trust I felt with him? Was it simply that he could tailor my experience so I could feel exactly what I wished to feel? Or maybe it was simply the deep feeling of being there with him, live and in person. 

Whatever it was, being hypnotized by him opened up the very pathways he warned me about. 

Now, he’s taken to calling me his little Pandora because just like the mythical heroine, my curiosity got the better of me and I opened the box hidden away inside my mind.

Dooming me in the process...

A doom I’ve embraced because having my mind melted by his voice as become my obsession. I never even tried to resist or curve my growing addiction. I jumped in head first and reveled in each intense experience. 

I don’t even care what he does with my mind during our sessions or how he uses his post hypnotic suggestions. I only crave the fall... The depths... 

The release of handing over my conscious thoughts to the bliss he offers me.

I know full well that any type of addiction is bad, so deep down, I know that one day, I’ll have to claw my way out of this obsession. I’ll have to muster the will to ask him to help me forget about the euphoria I feel when I sink to the sound of his voice.

It’s inevitable. 

One day I’ll have to stop and we both know that.

But...

Until then...

I’m going to dive into every single experience and open my mind to his heavenly words.

I’m going to let his hypnotic hold consume my mind, reshaping it for our profound pleasure.

I won’t hold anything back.

Because the more I give and open my mind to his guidance, the more intense my euphoria becomes.

There is nothing that compares to it.

Nothing.

[obsidiancreates]

Why Bounce Around To The Same Damn Song (Part 2)

(Part 1) (Henry's parenting gets exposed/Real Psychic Shawn/Protective Lassie Jules and Gus) (1/3)

“Uh-oh.” Shawn looks behind them as Gus pushes The Blueberry as fast as it can go within the legal parameters dictated on the highway signs. “Dude, my dad is following us.”

“So? The sun is shining and the ocean is wet.”

“Yeah, but I can see him scowling from here.”

“Again, the ocean is wet, Shawn.”

“Just, step on it, alright? We haven’t really talked much since the whole… talking with you guys thing. I think Lassie and Jules kinda let loose on him.”

“Really?”

“I had a vision of Jules telling Lassie that she wouldn’t shoot a friend’s father. I don’t think either of us really believed her.”

“Dang. … I mean, I can’t lie, I’ve wanted to give him a piece or two of my mind since then.”

“Yes, I’m very aware. And so is your great-great-great-great grandma, who keeps telling me to tell you to go for it. I kinda wish I’d never unblocked myself from ghosts.”

“It helped you solve our last case in record time.”

“No, that one was faked. Right now I can only see and hear spirits who’re either close to me or close to you.”

“Why close to me?”

“We have a cosmic connection Gus, our souls are literally tied together. If I ever die you’re following me within a week.”

“What?! I will not have my lifeforce tied to yours Shawn, you practically beg the universe to kill you every day!”

“But it won’t.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. I’m the universe’s most favorite and specialist boy.”

“You, are a grown-ass man.”

“Not to the infinite cosmos, Gus. To it, we’re all little babies, little jelly-like babies.”

“I hate not being able to tell what’s your nonsense and what’s actual supernatural knowledge you possess.”

“But it’s so much fun for me that you can’t! Oh, hang on, vision incoming.” Shawn puts his hand to his head. “You’re stopping for jerk chicken on the way home.”

“You know that’s right.”

“... With Lassie and Jules joining us.” Shawn frowns, and closes his eyes. They move rapidly under his eyelids, replaying and re-examining the vision. “And they’ve got bloody knuckles.”

“What?! What are we walking into?!”

“I-I don’t know! I can’t- it’s just a glimpse. It could just be from a case or something they just got back from.”

“But?”

“What do you mean but?”

“But, that’s your ‘I’m not convinced by my own theory’ face.”

“... The blood looks pretty fresh.”

“Shawn, if we walk into the station and it’s being held up or a criminal gets loose, I will kill you.”

“One week after me, Gus, max.”

“Tsk!”

They park, both keeping low as they tumble out of The Blueberry, just in case- until Henry stalks up behind them.

“What the hell are you two doing?”

“Crrrap.” Shawn stands up straighter and turns, plastering on an innocent smile. “Dad! Here to ah, report some of those seagulls that keep stealing your fries off the porch? Sorry to inform you but, I’m not sure Lassie arrests animals other than squirrels.”

“I’m here about that.” Henry points at Shawn, so close he’s practically pressing Shawn’s nose. “And all the other crap you’ve been pulling lately.”

Shawn’s eyes cross for a second as they take in the point. “You’ll have to be way more specific, Pops.”

“This is getting obsessive, Shawn.” Henry pulls back. “I don’t understand why you feel the need to stalk me-”

“Stalk you?”

“-or anyone else just to prove how good you are-”

“Whoa whoa, Shawn is not stalking anyone.” Gus steps forward, closer to Shawn’s side. “Especially not you.”

“Then how is he coming up with this stuff?” Henry crosses his arms. “And on your last case, you didn’t come by to see me once.”

“Because we didn’t need to,” Shawn says. “Dad, come on, I know I come to you a lot but Gus and I solve cases without your help all the time.”

“Shawn I pride myself on being able to figure out patterns in people’s behaviors.”

“Now that is a real shocker, I had absolutely no idea.”

“And the patterns you follow are the easiest ones. You get a case, you get stuck, you come to me, you solve it.”

“Not every time,” Gus defends again. “Besides, shouldn’t you be happy? We’re bothering you less and solving more cases.”

“Yeah, and I want to know how.” Henry tilts his head up, trying to look at Shawn from above like when Shawn was a child. “Because I’m starting to worry that I need to step in before you do something truly unforgivable in the name of winning.”

Shawn scoffs and looks away, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. “Look, Dad, I’m sorry if we made you feel left out, or-or snubbed, but I’m not stalking anyone. I’ve been honing some new skills, that’s all.”

“New skills.”

“Why do your questions never sound like questions?”

“Because it’s not a question, Shawn. What skills?”

“Awesome ones.” Shawn finally looks back to meet his father’s eyes. “So awesome that your face can’t even handle them.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Great! You don’t ask questions and I don’t give answers, we’ve got a solid dynamic here. Let’s move on before it gets stale.” Shawn turns and jogs into the station. Gus lingers a moment, looking over Henry- really looking him over, seeing him through Shawn’s perspective properly for the first time ever.

Neither of them are surprised when Henry follows them into the station.

“Dad, seriously, I’m about to land us a case,” Shawn whisper-hisses as they walk into the bullpen.

“There’s nothing on the police radio about any new cases,” Henry argues.

“I’m not using the radio.”

“So how are you so sure you’re getting a case?”

“Trusting my gut.”

“Shawn, Shawn!” Henry grabs his son by the arm and yanks, making Shawn turn to face him. “I’m being serious, kid. Whatever methods you’re using now are effective, sure, but-”

“But what, Dad, I- you don’t even know what I’m doing!” Shawn feels eyes on the three of them. Great. He lowers his voice. “I promise it’s nothing illegal.” He pauses, and tilts his head. Technically his visions could be considered an invasion of privacy, right? Does being in a room metaphysically count as trespassing? And he did use one flashback vision to get the code to a safe while Gus was busy with something else, so… “More illegal.”

“So what is it?”

Shawn looks into Henry’s eyes… and blinks. Sudden understanding washes over him, the slight irritation giving way to deeper bitterness- and hurt, but on Shawn it just makes him look… normal. Toned-down, withdrawn, normal. “This isn’t about worrying about what I’m doing. It’s just driving you nuts that you can’t figure it out.”

“Yeah, which you were hoping for anyway, with all the flaunting. Congratulations kid, you found a new way to get on my nerves. Now tell me what you’re up to. You don’t have enough money to pay people off for information, you’re barely passable in sneaking or laying low, and you’re not really psy-”

“Shawn, Gus.” Jules walks over, eyes cold as they linger on Henry. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, Jules, it’s fine.” Shawn flashes her a small smile. “Pop-pop here was just begging for me to give him some of my blood for a new hair regrowth regiment. He’ll need to scrub his head with my plasma, everyday, with a follow up pineapple head mask. I was just turning him down.”

“Well, good. We need you both on the case that just came in.” Jules passes Shawn a file, now fully ignoring Henry. “A twenty-five year old but very experienced water sports champion was just found stabbed to death in the back of an abandoned community center construction site.”

Shawn flips through the file, focusing on the pictures. “Abandoned community center?”

“Project ran out of funding, and no-one bought the land after because they found out it was completely ruined with lead deposits.”

“But this report says that a new survey just cleared the land of all health risk concerns.” Gus pulls out the report in question to read it more closely. “The old one was just wrong? What?”

Shawn nods. “Things are definitely fishy, and not just because I can smell my dad from here. And uh…” Shawn’s next thought is interrupted as he hones in on the stab wound in the base of the victim’s neck, and his hand goes to his head. “I am sensing that the wound in the neck was made by a different weapon than the wounds in the chest.”

“Yeah, the neck was done with something circular, like a um, knitting needle-”

“Or pen?”

“Yeah.”

Images flash through Shawn’s mind- too quick to be helpful. He sees a struggle, he sees a blow to the throat with a fist, then with a pen- 

He narrows his eyes, playing it over again. When the attacker punches her throat, he reels back when she starts asphyxiating. His hands are shaking when he stabs the pen in.

“He was trying to save her,” he mumbles. “Jules, I think this was an accide-”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Henry snatches the file out of Shawn’s hands. “You don’t have nearly enough information to just call this an accident.”

“He had a vision, clearly.” Jule’s voice is stone-cold. “Carlton! Shawn has something for us!”

Lassiter walks up, his frown deepening. “You’re working with your dad on this?”

“No! No, he just- he followed us in here.”

“Because he’s a control freak,” Gus adds. Shawn looks at him with surprise, and Gus looks a little surprised himself at the sudden boldness. 

Lassiter just tenses his mouth and then nods to Shawn.

“I had a vision.” Shawn puts his other hand up to his head now. “The attacker is angry, but not enough to kill. No, no, I see panic! He’s using an old trick, a pen in the throat to help someone breathe, he’s trying to save her!” 

“Oh, no.” Shawn spares one glance at Henry, and sees horror. “No.”

“Dad, seriously, I’ll tell you later,” Shawn whispers, nudging Henry away a little. “I think we should start with suspects who cared about he- HEY!”

Henry drags Shawn away into a quiet corner, and Shawn notices out of the corner of his eye that Lassie’s hand twitches towards his jacket for a second. It can’t look that aggressive to someone watching, can it?

“You, are not, psychic,” Henry says firmly as soon as they’re tucked away.

“I never said I was.”

“You don’t have to. That’s what that was just now, wasn’t it? You think you’re actually psychic.”

“Can we please do this later?” Shawn keeps his voice as low as possible. “In case you missed it, I’m kind of on a case right now.” The word ‘case’ is said so quietly that it’s silent, the only sound the shifting of saliva in Shawn’s mouth.

“You’re spouting bullcrap and putting the real detectives on a bad lead,” Henry whispers back.

“Dad, you have to trust me on this!”

“What makes you think you’ve earned enough trust for me to let this happen?! You are not actually psychic, Shawn!”

“What if I was? Huh? If I was and I could prove it, would you let me get back to my job?” He didn’t want to do this, he didn’t want to ever do this, he wanted to just play around and confuse his dad forever-

“Prove it.” Again with the not-questions.

“Prove it, yes. Here, like this- the other day I had a vision of you sitting and watching a show you and Mom used to love and you picked up your phone to text her but deleted it all instead. How about that, does that convince you?”

“Where were you hiding?”

“Nowhere! Dad, seriously, I’ll explain right after this if you just-”

“No! No, Shawn, no, because if this is getting to your head that badly then this needs to end.”

“Wh-” Henry is stalking away back to Gus and the detectives before Shawn can fully process what he means. “Dad!” He jogs to catch up. “Dad, wait-”

“Detectives, I have something to tell you both, out of extreme concern for Shawn’s mental wellbeing.”

Gus scoffs. Jules and Lassie don’t look convinced of Henry’s intentions either. It’s enough to throw him for a second, a second long enough for Shawn to catch up.

Henry looks at Gus, then Jules, then Lassie. “What’s going on here? First I get thrown out of the station, now I’m not taken seriously when I’m worried about my own son?”

“Look Spencer,” Lassies says, looking down at Henry, “To be frank, starting something off with you being concerned about your son’s mental wellbeing isn’t exactly a convincing start.”

Shawn’s eyes widen and he starts making a slicing motion across his neck.

Henry crosses his arms. “And why is that?”

“You’ve never exactly pulled your punches when publicly lambasting him.”

“And you’ve never defended him to me before.” Henry narrows his eyes. “And Guster’s never insulted me like he did earlier.” He turns to Shawn. “What the hell did you say?”

“Nothing,” Shawn says quickly. “Nobody’s saying anything and Gus and I are leaving, and I’ll explain everything to you some other time that’s not right now!”

“No! No, you are not running away from this, tell me what you told them to make them treat me this way.”

“He told us about his training,” Jules says even as Shawn tries to motion for silence again. “And as much as we appreciate the help he’s able to provide to the department because of it, it was… unethical at best.”

“Unethical.”

Shawn tries to pull Gus away. 

“Oh come on Spencer, even I know that you can’t do all of that to a child and expect them to have all their screws tightened in place.” Lassiter crosses his arms. “At least when I memorized the Miranda Rights at seven it was because I wanted to.”

“Oh, so he told you everything.” Henry eyes Shawn. “That I trained him to be a detective and he threw it all away to be a psychic.”

“He’s a psychic and a detective,” Jules says firmly.

“No, he’s not.”

“Dad-” 

“No, this has gone too far, Shawn. Detectives Shawn is not and never has been psychic, but he’s begun believing his own lie and I’m seriously concerned about his mental state.”

[dmagedgoods]

Devil May Care

Rating: General

Relationships: Raphael/Male Durge (my character Cian) Summary: The glorious hero failing? Dying because of a foolish mistake? Destroying his plan by losing his life so recklessly? Raphael won't allow it. (I’m always open for Raphael prompts btw, it just may take me a little time to answer them. ❤) Tags of importance: obsession, local devil struggles with feelings AO3 ~ You have been less predictable than most of your kind. The rich spectrum of mortal emotion is a palette of many hues. Adept and well-versed in its heady heights and delicious depths, I employ both to my advantage. They are, after all, of inestimable value in my daily business; however, in a primarily – one could say – academic sense; by no means from first-hand experience, naturally. But now I am astonished, little mouse, at finding myself invested in your fate, beyond those distant contemplations, fury bright and fierce in my chest. You stand amidst the gore, skin sickly pale against the ruthless red drenching your robes and the very earth around you. – A single pure white rose in a field of thorny brambles. Your innocence is deceptive, and illusion your design. But your subterfuge won’t save you now against the vigor of your enemies. You have miscalculated, and you pay the price, your companions vanquished, alive but spent, and fear written plainly on your pain-twisted features. You suck in a slow and shaky breath while I watch, at the edge of the chaos. I savor you, how your lips part around the barely muttered words of your last hopeless spells, the multitude of emotions passing across your desperate face. Is this how you plan to escape the claws, little mouse? Stealing away from this plane of existence? The anger burns higher, floods my veins. It seems there is only so much time left for me to enjoy you before you ruin my flawless plan with your incompetence. I am drinking in the sight of you, trembling with the heat of my rage and something indefinable, much colder underneath, when finally, you collapse and lie in a motionless heap among the dry, brown grass. The air goes still. Something overcomes me at the sight, and I struggle not to bare my teeth. With a flick of my fingers, your last two attackers burn to ash. Immediately, the wizard is at your side. “Give him room.” I approach, slowly. It is meant as a command rather than a threat, but my words fly with far more intensity than intended. If my thoughts weren’t utterly consumed by the figure lying on the ground before me, I might be concerned by the suddenness of my own outburst. “Would you be so kind?” With an arch of my brow the request imparts an order. The useless mage finally flinches back from where he is crouched at your side, but I can feel the vampling’s red glare on me from some distance behind where he too lies wounded, all your companions drained of all power to regenerate or heal. I lower myself to take a closer look at you. You are shivering. Sweat pours down your face in saline rivulets. The hollows of your eyes appear too deep, your skin waxy, your scent earthen and sweltering. I can feel the hostile magic still raging through your body. “You won’t escape me like that.” My voice seems to cut through the haze in your mind. Your long lashes flutter. Then your eyes meet mine, glazed and feverish. When I cup your damp chin you startle, sucking in a jagged, pitiful gasp. I swallow hard, ignoring your pained little whimper. Pathetic. A few infernal words and my own power cleanses you of the destructive influence of the magic your opponents infused into your blood. Perhaps unconsciously, you lean into my touch before your gaze clears. “Raphael?” A feeling rises in me, and I find myself suddenly consumed by an irresistible need to hide you away from all eyes, friend and foe alike. It’s agonizing and unwelcome, this foreign, ridiculous urge.

I am no stranger to desiring you, perhaps beyond what you are strictly worth for my plan, and as much as I attempt to distance myself from this need, I’m incessantly aware of its presence. But this is not desire. At least not in the way I’m accustomed to experiencing it. No, what tears at me and clouds my senses is something else, nameless because I deny it the solidity of a name, unacceptable because in conflict with my very nature. I take a slow, even breath, getting hold of myself before I can do something rash. Another flick of my fingers makes a potion appear. I uncork it and bring it to your lips. “Drink.” You do, your body language uncharacteristically submissive, docile like a mindless doll. It displeases me to see you like this, robbed of your gleam, of your value to me. In a few heartbeats, the liquid will take effect. I raise my eyes and examine your worthless companions for a long moment. They will make it back to your camp. With that, I turn away, ready to vanish from this place and leave behind me the brief but frankly alarming lapse in control I have experienced at your hands. Your voice stops me. It is disgustingly weak. “I … thank you.” With a wide gesture of my arms and a cold smile on my lips, I turn towards you once more: “The list of your debts is growing, little mouse. You can thank me when I come to collect.”