#when i do it it’s terrible because this is something for a diary but i’m on tumblr

[ashmp3]

i don’t think people realize how alienating and lonely it is to not have romantic interactions as a teen. Not that i think being in a relationship at that age would do me any good but it would make me feel more normal and less unlovable for sure

[getosbigballsack]

Random thought! - Husband Gojo x Wife Reader-chan #inside the diary

Hear me out! Gojo read your thoughts in your diary and came to realize that he was a terrible husband to you.

He knew he was a good lay, hence the reason he managed to knock you up three times. But as of lately, he came to realize that you weren't interested in having sex with him.

At first, he thought it was just because you were too tired, having to take care of the kids while he works, all day by yourself (in which he understands, and he praises you for being such a wonderful mother).

But that wasn't the case. He just happened to come home early from work while you were out shopping with the kids, and he got a hold of your diary.

Interestingly, he took it upon himself to skim through the pages of your book, just to see what's inside your little head. Nothing out of the ordinary, just little notes and reminders to yourself about the task you had to complete and a few words of encouragement here and there.

He usually doesn't read through your thoughts, always thinking that if you had an issue you'd come and talk to him, so he was about to put your diary back where he found it because he didn't want to pry further into your thoughts, but that's until one page in particular caught his eye.

I find it difficult to enjoy sex with my husband nowadays and I don't know why?

Words in blue handwriting are written beautifully on the paper. He kept on reading, and as he continued to move further down the line, he felt his heart break.

It’s just me, but I don't think I'm attractive enough to have sex with my husband.

I wanted to suggest the last time we had sex [that was a month ago], but I didn't wanna ruin the moment for him because he looked like he was having fun.

Satoru came home today and wanted to have sex. I told him no. He never forced himself on me. He only kissed me goodnight and left to go sleep in the guest room. I know he was upset but did he really have to leave?

It's been 2 months, and Satoru hasn't tried touching me since that night. Am I not worthy of loving anymore? He doesn't even buy me flowers anymore or take me out on dates.

He doesn't compliment me anymore, doesn't tell me that I'm beautiful. He doesn’t even call me baby girl, doll or even honey.

No more I love you, only kisses to the forehead and peck on the lips before he leaves for work in the morning.

He comes home late, I'm always alone with the kids, no more family dinners, no more kitchen, bedroom, and bathroom conversations. No more late-night kisses, no more holding me tightly in his arms while he sleeps.

Does he not want me anymore?

Sometimes I wanna visit his office with the children but I’m afraid that he’ll find my presence a bit annoying. I feel lonely without him here with me.

I should've said yes that night and spread my legs for him,

That's my duty as his wife.

To have fulfilled all my husband's needs without complaint.

But it hurts to have sex, I'm just not in the mood. I'm too tired, I just need my husband to hold me, but he's not there.

I can't complain, he's the reason I don't have to work.

But is it so bad to ask my husband to love me without having the need to touch me?

The last entry to your diary reads.

I'm going to do it today, bare the pain and have sex with my husband, just so that I can feel his love once again. 

Now he knows the real reason you won’t have intercourse with him, or let's say the reason you don’t enjoy having sex with him. You feel as though he doesn’t love you anymore, and he needs to fix that. So, until he can figure out a way to prove to you just how much he loves you, he’ll have to deprive himself of your warm loving touch. 

Later in the day when you came home with the kids, you saw your husband cooking up a storm in the kitchen. “Hey baby girl, want something to eat? It’s been a while hasn’t it.” too stunned to even say a word, you just watched as your kids, ages 3, 4 and 6 ran over to their dad and engulfed him in a big hug. He giggled and stopped whatever he was doing to bend to his children’s height and kissed every single of them on their cheeks. “Hey boys. Did you all take your mom out shopping today?” Oh, that’s right you’re a boy mom. You managed to pop three boys, all of them came out looking just like their dad, especially your eldest son. 

The boys chatted away with their dad until he excused himself and walked over to you and wrapped his arms tightly around your body. You're in a state of shock, unable to move for a moment until he whispers, “can I get a hug back?” and you did give him a hug. 

“Welcome home, have a seat, dinner’s almost ready. I cooked vegetable curry today, I know it’s your favourite,” and indeed it is your favourite. For the rest of the day, he spent time in the kitchen cooking while chatting with his kids, not without taking small glances at you. You all ate dinner together, got the kids ready for bed when night falls, before preparing for bed yourselves. 

You remembered that you wrote in your diary that you were about to try and have sex with your husband, all for the sake of feeling his love again, but that didn’t happen. Instead, you found your husband already waiting for you on the bed, fully dressed in pjs, a cup of your favourite tea in his hand and a warm loving smile on his face. 

He immediately started up a conversation with you, asking you about your day and your trip to the shopping centre. You had no clue what was going on inside your husband’s head, but it’s been a while since he last sat down and had small conversations like these, and you weren’t about to miss this opportunity. 

So with a smile on your face, you told everything that happened today and even the fact that you had to buy a bag of grapes you had no intentions of buying, but you did so because your 3 year old son stole and ate a few while you picked up a bag of oranges. The conversation went all a while until he sighed. 

“Y/N,” he whispered in a serious tone. “We need to talk. I was going to wait until tomorrow, but I can’t bear the fact that my wife would be going to bed with doubts about our relationship and my love for you.”

You swallow thickly and rest your now empty cup against the nightstand before turning to face your husband fully. He reached his hand out for you, and you gently placed your left hand in his. He wrapped his large hand around your finger and gently pulled you until you were straddling his lips. You swallowed that thick lump yet again, before whispering, “So what is it that we need to talk about.”

“Why do you always refuse to communicate your feelings with me?” he asked as he let go of your hand and wrapped both hands around your waist and rested his head up against your chest. “I know I haven’t been a good husband to you these past few months, but I don’t want you to think that I don’t love you or that you’re not worthy of loving.”

“I don’t understand what you mean.”

He sighed heavily before taking a deep breath. “I found your diary in the living room when I got home, and I read through your notes.” Your body tensed up in his lap, your mind immediately racing towards negative thoughts. Is he angry? Why did you have to carelessly leave your diary out in the open for him to see. 

“Oh!”

“I’m sorry for reading through your diary, but I’m happy that I did because my wife won’t communicate with me,” he said with a frustrated sigh. 

You frowned, “Would you have listened even if I tried?”

“I would’ve dropped everything and listened to whatever it is that you have to say. I know it's my duty to ensure that my wife is living her best happy life, and that it’s also my responsibility to take care of your wellbeing, but I can’t always know what's going on with you if you don’t communicate with me.” 

Communication on your end has always been a big issue in your relationship with your husband. It bothered him and he’d hope that after a while you would’ve grown out of your bad habit, but he guess he’s wrong, because here you are now after 8 years of being a relationship total and that includes the four years of marriage, and 3 kids later, you still struggling to figure out a way to communicate your feelings with him. 

“I broke my heart when I read that you thought that as my wife, your duty is to only provide for me sexually or even the fact that you don’t think that you’re attractive enough to have sex with me. What hurts me the most is that you have so many doubts about my love for you. Y/N you know that I love you right?”

“I do,” your voice trembled slightly as you answered. 

“Then why are you doubting my feelings for you? I apologise for leaving you to sleep in the guest room that night, it was wrong of me to be upset all because you told me no.” There was a moment of silence, you figured he was waiting for a response in which you never gave.

“I know I don’t say this as much as I need to, but I love you. I LOVE YOU so very much. I love you as my best friend, my wife and I love you even more as the mother of my children.” Tears started to obstruct your vision as you stared off at your wedding portrait that was above your bed and listened as your husband poured his hurt out to you. 

“I need you to stop thinking that you are not worthy of loving because you are more than worthy. You’re an amazing woman, an amazing wife, and an amazing mother to our children. Just the fact that you're a mother makes you worthy of loving.” 

“Satoru… I- I,” you stuttered, trying to formulate the words inside your mouth, but even if you did, what are you going to say to your husband? You had not one clue. 

“I’m not a mind reader Y/N, so you need to start communicating your feelings with me, because if you don’t tell me, I’m not going to always know,” he said to you as he snuggled his head against your chest. 

“I- I’ll do better.” 

“I’m happy to hear that, and I promise to show you just how much I love you and do whatever it is to ensure that my wife is happy, because your happiness means the most to me. I’ll get you those flowers you want, and I’ll try my best to buy you loads of flowers in the future. And about visiting my office.”

“Yes?” you said. 

“I would love for you to pop up at my office one day with the kids and surprise me. My workers have been dying to meet my beautiful wife and children. And about the late-night work meetings. I can’t promise you that there won’t be any more late-night meetings, but I'll do my best to get home as early as I can to be with you and the kids. I don’t want you to feel as though I’ve abandoned you with the kids. I’ll take a few days off from work too and take the ends out. You’re right we barely have family time.”

“Thank you,” you said smiling as you allowed those tears to run down your cheeks. 

“I’ll do better as your husband. It wasn't my intention to not cuddle and hold you tightly while we sleep. Baby you know you can always smack me in the head or do that cute silly little thing you do and crawl underneath my arms if you want to cuddle with me,” he said to you, and you let out a small giggle. 

He chuckled too as he removed one hand from around your waist to cradle your cheek. “Lastly, this is about our sex life. If I make you feel physical pain, or uncomfortable at any time during intercourse you need to let me know because the last thing I want to do is hurt you. In your diary you said that you wanted to suggest the last time we had sex. I want you to tell me what it is.”

Your face heated up immediately, why would he have to bring that up now. Couldn’t he have waited until a better time. But nonetheless despite the obvious look of embarrassment on your face you whispered, “I was wondering if… if…”

“Yes?” 

“I was wondering if we could try something outside the usual vanilla sex,” you said to him, and he cocked his eyebrow towards you. “It’s not that I don’t enjoy vanilla sex, I love having vanilla sex with you and you know how to be rough when you need to be. But I thought it would be nice if we could do something different.” 

“What do you suggest?” he asked with a sunning grin on his face. 

“Maybe we could try using some sex toys.” 

“Sex toys heh?” he said, and you quickly covered up your face with your hands. “I’m open, I don’t mind getting a few sex toys here and there for us to use. I can order us a few online on another day.”

“Ok…”

“Good girl. I love you.” he whispered as he kissed your lips. "I promise I'll be a better husband for you."

“I love you too, Satoru.”

[ladyofthenoodle]

fic idea from 2020 that the paris special unearthed from the archives of my brain:

So far, there wasn’t a single thing about this new reality that wasn’t terrible. She was grounded, for some reason, which she didn’t know about, and was therefore double grounded for breaking the rules of the grounding. Which she hadn’t known about!

To make matters worse, when she’d gone to text Alya to complain about the unfairness of it all, she realized she didn’t have Alya’s number. In fact, she didn’t have anyone’s number except her parents, Nadja Chamack, her grandmother, and someone called The Supreme.

She next turned to Tikki to vent, but when she checked her (admittedly cool) purse, she found her kwami wide-eyed, terrified, and most horrifiyingly, muzzled—which Marinette couldn’t figure out a way to undo. 

So she was stuck in the bakery on a Saturday morning with angry parents and no one to talk to and no ideas on how to get out of the worst version of Paris possible.

Which is when Adrien Agreste’s bodyguard walked in. Brief hope flared in her heart before extinguishing just as quickly when she saw he was alone.

Which she should’ve expected. With how awful this world was, she wouldn’t be surprised if Adrien didn’t even exist here. She couldn’t imagine a world this awful with him in it.

She bagged up the Gorilla’s order with a heavy heart and sent him on his way before looking out the bakery display window with a sigh.

Only to spot Adrien Agreste himself, with an asymmetrical haircut and thick kohl around his eyes, staring back at her. He was different than her Adrien—and she couldn’t say she was a fan of the hair—but he was just as handsome, and his eyes even more striking with the eyeliner.

When he noticed her looking, his eyes widened and his cheeks started to turn pink.

Was he blushing?

Marinette could feel her own cheeks heating up as he stared. She ventured a small, embarrassed wave, and he—he!—

He lifted his own hand, brought it to his lips, and blew her a kiss.

Crash!

Marinette, along with about 300 macarons, toppled to the floor.

“Good morning, Marinette!” said Adrien Agreste, during a time that was decidedly morning but far too early to be described as ‘good.’ 

She scowled at him.

“Girl, you okay?” said Alya Césaire, who was—who was speaking to her.

Right.

Alya Césaire was speaking to her. Because Alya Césaire, Hesperia’s favorite lackey, was apparently Marinette’s best friend.

And Adrien Agreste was the boy Marinette was in love with.

She plastered a smile on her face. “I’m great, Alya! Super dee duper. Absolutely swell. What a beautiful morning with all the sunshine and the…. morning.”

Alya looked unconvinced.

“And the Adriens!” Marinette added hastily. “I mean, the Adrien. Because there’s only one Adrien and he sure is… here. Hello Adrien! Your face is looking very attractive this morning, because you are an attractive person. And that’s… something positive I can say about you.”

“Thanks, Marinette!” said Adrien with a dopey little smile. She wasn’t sure if he was mocking her or just deeply stupid. If her diary entries were to be believed, it was probably the latter. “Your face is looking attractive this morning as well. Did you do something new with your makeup?”

Marinette had done her makeup the same way she did every day, but she supposed his Marinette opted for a boring girl next door ‘no makeup makeup’ look.

Alya squealed next to her before giving her shoulder an excited squeeze.

Marinette took several deep breaths.

“Yes, I thought I’d try something new.”

Adrien smiled and nodded.

Alya shoved her forward.

Marinette barely managed to restrain herself from sending Alya a patented Toxinelle Death Glare. Instead, she smiled wider at Adrien.

Her cheeks hurt.

“Thank you soooooo much for noticing my makeup. That is a thing I am excited about. I love putting on makeup to impress cute boys, tee hee!”

Adrien’s face fell. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to imply—I know you always dress for you, Marinette! That’s something I really admire about you.”

His eyes were so earnest, so sincere, and for a second, she almost—

Marinette cleared her throat. “That’s so nice! You can leave now.”

Adrien blinked. 

“Bye!” She shooed him.

“Oh, um, bye Marinette,” he said with a sheepish wave, and then he left.

Nailed it.

“Girl, what the actual fuck?”

[merakiui]

angel/angler.

yandere!azul ashengrotto x (female) reader cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, nsfw, stalking, non-con, non-consensual photography, chikan/groping (train molestation), obsession, kidnapping/captivity, drugging, violence, blood, death (or is it??), azul's insecurities and low self-esteem, azul’s not-so-subtle breeding kink, implied disordered eating, reader's height isn't described, but it's written that azul is taller note - to obsess is to hunger like an angler from the deep sea. living his entire life in pitch-black solitude, entranced by an angel's halo; his only purpose is to find the body that will become his lifeline and, one day, his cemetery.

entry 1: 18 April, 20XX.

For anonymity’s sake, I’ve chosen to write using a vague pronoun. Additionally, this diary will be a record of my thoughts so that I can keep my mind and senses intact. In my youth, I was prone to terrible fits of self-destructive rage, and as a result they suggested I write my feelings down to prevent any outbursts. I’m not very physical towards others. Rather, it was the harm I posed to myself that fostered concern.

But this space isn’t for my own views on myself. It’s about someone else. 

I have a confession: I’ve fallen in love with you from the train, and I’ve been in love with you for the four months I’ve come to know you.

You wear perfectly pressed suits, heels of a modest height, tights, and pencil skirts that cut just at your knees. I want to touch you, but if I do you might stop wearing skirts altogether and then I’ll never see your legs again. I suppose trousers aren’t so unattractive. They’re appealing in their own right. Everything looks good on you, though. (Nothing would look even better.)

You work in an office building. I’m not sure which floor, but I’ll know soon enough. I wanted to follow you inside, but there’s a security guard in the lobby. He always greets you, and you always smile and chat with him. You’re a kind person, so I let this pass without incident. But I can’t lie to these pages and say it’s not troublesome when I watch his gaze linger longer than it needs to. 

I’d kill him, but then they’d employ a new guard and you’d make friends with him because you’re so kind. I don’t admire kind people. Rather, I find kindness to be a double-edged blade (Is that the correct phrasing? It’s different in my hometown. We say kindness is like pufferfish—harmless until it’s provoked and then it becomes poisonous). It’s not that I look down on kind people. I just think you shouldn’t be so quick to befriend the world in its entirety.

After plenty of observation, I’ve learned that you often leave your building to get lunch by yourself. This is what you’ve eaten in the week:

Monday - A salad at a popular café. Iced tea because it was a sunny day. A tiny cheesecake for dessert. It was blueberry.

Tuesday - A wrap of some kind. Chicken? Or was it vegetarian? Sweet potato fries. Water.

Wednesday - You didn’t leave your building. Were you at work today? 

Thursday - Another salad. Water. Same café. No tiny cheesecake.

Friday - You went to lunch with that guard. I only remember my irritation and so I’m afraid I can’t make note of your meal for today. He looks at you like an obsessed puppy waiting for its owner to give it attention. I want to pluck his eyes from his sockets so he’ll never look at you in that way again.

You lead a healthy lifestyle, but I can’t help wondering if you’re eating well. Did someone say something about your figure? I’ll eviscerate them for you and then they can see how much it hurts when unnecessary scrutiny is thrown around.

It’s quite late. I want to sleep, but thinking about you has my body wide-awake. I wonder if your mouth tastes like the moonlight shining in through my window. I wonder if your body is soft like mine… Of course it is. A silly, irrational thought. You’re much warmer than me. This is just a theory. I’ve yet to feel and confirm for myself. I will in the foreseeable future.

Before we part ways, I want you to know that I’m not very good at cooking. I’ve picked up a few books and hope to learn. I’m going to practice so that I can feed you better meals one day. Salads are the worst. Fried chicken is the true meal of heaven. I’m certain you would share this sentiment.

If I were to be condemned to a last meal like those serial killers on death row, I’d ask for fried chicken. Knowing you, you’re too good to kill anyone. In this hypothetical, supposing you’re a heinous criminal, your last meal would be something healthy. Do you even like those salads, or are you forcing yourself because you must? I understand calorie-counting well enough, but if there’s one thing to enjoy in life it should be food.

I suppose that makes me a hypocrite. I ought to take my own advice.

Oh. I’m starting to grip my pen with more force and the lines have become shaky. I usually break my writing utensils if my focus strays. I’ll stop here for today. Ink is a pain to clean.

AA.

The morning rush is your greatest enemy.

Jack Howl, the lobby’s security, has suggested giving you a ride on numerous occasions. “It’s part of the reason I got my license,” he explained once, “so that I can protect those who work in this building from the rush. Not like you have to accept my offer. It’s just…convenient for both of us. Again, I don’t care what you do.”

(He does. You see through his gruff surface.)

According to him, the morning and night rushes bring out the worst kinds of characters.

But isn’t that everywhere? you think as you peer out the window, watching the city come into clarity.

Like every morning, the train car is more crowded than a sardine tin. You’re used to being pressed up against other commuters, pinned to the window or between people. You’re flattered to know someone’s concerned, but nothing has happened yet. And why would it? It’s bright outside. No one would dare do something during the day. At least, not in a crowded area where anyone could see and hear.

I wonder what I should have for dinner. I still need to go shopping. My fridge is way too empty, you think, sighing. And I need to follow up with that one author. They’ve yet to get back to me about my edits. Perhaps we should meet in the office instead of through video call… And I also need to finalize that other style sheet after the last round of editing. And then another conference… There was something else. Was I scheduled to have lunch with an author? Or was that next week? I should check before—

The train shudders as it slides into the station. Someone brushes against you from behind. Their hand is pressed against the window just near your head. They steady themselves, their body so close to yours you can hear their staggered breathing.

“Ah. S-Sorry…”

It’s next week, right? I really should check once I get to my stop. This is going to eat me alive all day.

“Mhm,” you hum, waving dismissively.

The stranger standing behind you peels his hand away from the window. A sweaty palm print is left in its wake.

“We will be approaching the next stop shortly.”

Just one more and you’ll be getting off.

A pair of bright eyes blinks back at you in the reflection, watching the city just as you are.

entry 5: 22 April, 20XX.

I’m not a social person by any means. If I can avoid crowds, I usually do. An introvert’s paradise is best spent in the comfort of their own room, after all. But if you prefer outdoor dates I can become extroverted for your sake. There are lots of things I’m willing to do for your sake.

Which is why I’ve forced myself to tolerate the train. I loathe it. It’s cramped and uncomfortable. Most days I’m not even near you, and so all I can do is stare longingly from afar. I content myself with imaginary scenarios like in the books you edit. I’ve mentioned it sparsely in this diary, but you’re a brilliant editor. Most of the novels you work on aren’t exactly my taste, but there’s something to appreciate about them. Reading through them knowing your very eyes pored over these pages dozens of times before publication… I admire your work. Immense time and effort goes into all professions, especially ones that involve meticulous touches. 

With this discussion of careers, you might wonder what I do for a living. I manage my own restaurant chain off-site. It must be shocking news for you to realize: your secret admirer is actually quite successful.

If I’m not able to provide an adequate life—no, more than that. If I cannot drown you in all of life’s luxuries, I should sooner throw myself on the beach and let this soft, wriggling body of mine dry out than settle for the barest of minimums. You deserve only the finest.

In fact, I have a room in my home dedicated to you. A private office in which you can write and edit in peace. It’s furnished with everything you’d ever need. I hope to gift it to you one day.

Remote work is very relaxing. (You’ll know this once you try it here.) When you’re boss, you work your own schedule. That’s why I’m able to fit our secret meetings into my weekly itinerary.

Today’s meeting was quite fortuitous. I felt like I’d won the lottery. Mostly because I was finally given the opportunity to be close to you. So close, in fact, that you didn’t even notice when I slid my phone under your skirt to take a few photos. Your undergarments are unexpectedly plain. Truthfully, I’m somewhat disappointed. I was hoping to learn your lingerie preferences. At the very least, I know your tights are sheer enough to show me the color of your panties.

I consider myself a connoisseur of many things, and I’ve done enough interior decorating in my time to become well-accustomed to color palettes. A fool would say your panties are red, but they’re actually maroon.

That same fool wouldn’t take another breath after glimpsing such a private side of you.

If you must know, my dear, I am excessively avaricious when it comes to the things I like. I have always been this way. I am a collector. A hoarder of secrets. I refuse to let others touch or take the things that belong to me, especially when they are wholly undeserving…

I’ve broken another pen. Thankfully, the mess wasn’t so extreme. Not-so-thankfully, I’ve lost my train of thought.

Ah. Right. Trains.

Today I rode the train, and I was standing right behind you. You were looking out the window, lost in your thoughts, and so you didn’t notice me. You must have seen my reflection, but I wear a mask and a hooded sweatshirt when I go outside. Perhaps it’s a touch embarrassing to admit, but I am very self-conscious of the way I look. Firstly, my eyes are too tired. I’ve read that many people are not fond of eyes with dark circles under them. Secondly, my face is average—unworthy of your love by my lofty standards. My hair never cooperates. My smiles never fit properly. My skin is too pale. My eyes are too blue and my pupils are abnormal. My weight is just a few kilograms above the average. I will work hard to bring it back down for your sake and for my own so that it won’t show. I prefer a slim waist, so I must stomach all manner of healthy foods for the weekend. What a pity… Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you could eat whatever you wanted without having to worry about caloric intake and numbers on a scale?

That aside, there are times in which my glasses sit crooked on my face and it’s a horrifying thought to imagine I walk around looking like that! As if I’ve rolled right out of bed with no regard for my appearance whatsoever!

Perhaps the both of us share one similarity. We are vain creatures who care too much about how we present ourselves to others.

Thus, I conceal myself so that you won’t judge me harshly should you look upon me. Not like you’d do that. You were so immersed in your head that you hardly paid any attention to your surroundings. You should be more careful. What if something were to happen and I wasn’t there to protect you?

The train stuttered to a halt at the first stop, and some fool bumped into me. I should thank them because I got to brush against you. You gasped softly. I watched your breath fog the window. I placed my hand just above your head and apologized softly, and you weren’t bothered in the slightest. Oh, how I envy your carefree nature.

As a result of that stranger’s mishap, I’ve learned something new. You wear perfume. Even with my mask, I could smell it. Strong and flowery, overwhelmingly sweet. Maybe you prefer these scents? I’m more partial to mature scents, but I admit there’s a certain charm to the scents you wear. I wish I knew the exact brand. There are dozens of perfumes with the same notes as the ones I picked up, but none can compare to the one you use. I want to be able to hold the bottle knowing it’s your favorite.

I’ve prattled enough. With the length of my entries, you’d assume I was this chatty beyond the page. I’m not. I only say as much as I think is necessary.

Once again, I’m having trouble falling asleep. I can’t stop thinking about you. I’m looking through the photos I snapped and the outline of your lips against your panties is lovely. I’m sure you’re just as soft and sweet inside as you are on the outside. If only I could experience it right now. My hand can’t replicate the softness or the wetness or the way you’ll probably clamp down when we finally make love.

I can only fantasize for now. What a pain. 

AA.

“It’s going to rain today,” Jack tells you the minute you step through the lift doors into the lobby. He stands straight like a soldier, his shoulders squared and features set into something serious.

“Looks like it, huh?” You glance at the darkening sky outside, slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Hopefully it rains after I get home. I didn’t bring an umbrella.”

“I’ll drive you.” He falls into step beside you. “It’s dark out and the station is—”

“It’s only five minutes away. I’ll be fine. I take this way all the time.”

Jack’s lip twitches into a grim frown. The beginnings of a sharp, pearly-white canine flashes at you as his mouth curls. “Fine,” he concedes with a huff. Awkwardly, he scratches the back of his neck and looks elsewhere. “Do what you want. I’m not forcing you or anything.”

You smile at him. “You’re very considerate, Jack. I appreciate the concern.”

He’s like a puppy. It’s really sweet.

“W-Wha—who said anything about concern?” His face is growing warmer by the second, thawing his external ice.

“I’ll be okay. It’s not even that dark out either.”

“Still…” He sighs and cards his hand through his hair. “You haven’t noticed anything weird lately, have you?”

“Anything weird?” You furrow your brows, suddenly confused.

“On your way home. Nothing out of the ordinary? It’s the same every day?”

“Mostly, yeah. Why? Did something happen?”

“No. Just wondering…” Jack looks past you then, searching for something you can’t seem to see. “You sure you don’t want a ride? I can walk you to the station. Protect you if anything or anyone—”

You force yourself to laugh. “Come on. You’re trying to scare me on purpose. This is because I told you I’m editing a horror novel, isn’t it?”

Jack doesn’t share in your humor. Instead, his frown tightens on his face.

“While I’m grateful you want to help, I really don’t want to put that on you. It’s not your job to chauffeur me around. I’d feel bad if I made you do that. So thank you, but I’ll have to decline.”

You turn swiftly on your heel before he can protest, striding out the door into the gloomy night.

When is it going to be summer? It’s way too chilly.

You burrow into your jacket as you beeline for the station. A brisk breeze blows through busy city streets. Even though there are still people out and about, it feels strangely desolate.

Jack’s heart was in the right place, but did he really have to phrase it like that? 

You wrap your arms around yourself and hurry along. Your steps are in time with your pounding heart. A cold sweat beads along your forehead. 

Relax. It’s nothing to get worked up over. I’m fine.

Crunch.

You whirl around, clutching your bag between your arms. There’s no one in sight. The city seems eerily quiet tonight.

Stop scaring yourself. Nothing’s there.

No, it’s not something that could make that sound—a noise akin to a footstep. That belongs to someone.

Is someone following you?

You aren’t going to wait around and find out. Now you’re jogging the rest of the way, your heels clicking against the pavement. Your breath comes in shaky heaves, and by the time you finally step into the station’s blinding fluorescents, adrenaline still vibrating through your veins, you notice the time.

My train—it’s already here! Thank you. Oh, thank you so much!

You rush through the station in a flurry, and the relief is tangible once you’re safe and sound inside the train car. You squirm through the throng of late-night commuters towards the window.

“Sorry. Excuse me. Pardon me,” you murmur as you navigate the crowded space.

You make it to the window just as the doors slide shut. Moments later, the train squeaks into motion.

I worked up such a sweat. I can’t believe I got so frazzled over something as small as a snapped twig…or whatever that was. It wasn’t a footstep. And if it was, it was probably my own.

You shake your head at your reflection.

Look at me, losing my mind all because I let someone’s words get to my head. 

The stranger standing behind you sighs alongside you. You’re about to turn around, but it’s their hands on your waist that stop you. Your blood freezes. Your spine goes rigid.

“Excuse me? Um… C-Can I help you?”

You gasp, horrified, as the hands creep higher until they’re wrapped around your chest. The stranger squeezes almost curiously. Their breath catches on an eager hitch. You peer helplessly at the window. Two blue eyes blink back.

“Wait… Hold on—”

“It’s okay.” A man’s voice. Sweet and silky-smooth. A reassuring whisper. Only you can hear it with this invasively close proximity. It might as well be a drop in the ocean that is the rickety din of the train on the rails. You reach to grab his arms, hoping to pry him off. “I’m not going to hurt you. As long as you’re quiet…”

“No, you can’t. Please, sir. S-Stop… Don’t touch there.” Your fingers curl around his wrists. You squirm against him, your brain blanking.

This can’t be happening… There’s just no way…

Something stiff prods at your ass from behind. You yelp softly when he rubs himself against you. You try to catch sight of his features when you crane your neck, but all you get is a faceful of a dark hoodie. He’s tall enough to block you from the other passengers, his body caging yours against the window. One hand slides away from your chest to slip under your skirt. He gropes at your inner thigh; his fingers draw dangerously close to private territory.

“Sir—”

He inhales a dreamy breath. “Perfect,” he babbles, his words muffled by his mask. “So perfect. Warm… And soft. Just as I thought.”

There’s nowhere for you to run. Nowhere to hide. You’re trapped here with this fiend until you get off at your stop.

“We will be approaching the stop shortly,” the woman on the intercom says, but it doesn’t give you the relief you’re after.

Three more stops and then you’ll be at yours. Three more. Three. Your stop might as well be years away.

Two fingers trace the outline of your pussy through your panties. You’re grateful you’re wearing tights.

His breathing is heavy. He’s mumbling filth in your ear. You hardly register it over the static in your brain.

Gross. So gross. Stop it. Please stop. I don’t want this.

A whine bubbles low in your throat when he presses down against your clit. He caresses you through the fabric of your panties. You slump against the window with your palms on the glass. Your heart is in your throat. You feel sick and dizzy. It’s too hot in here. Everything is spinning. Your heart is picking up its pace. Your hands are starting to shake. 

And there’s nowhere to go. No amount of begging will stop him. He’s all over you, pressed impossibly close—so close you think he’s trying to fuse his body to yours, becoming one mutual unit.

You want to scream, but you can’t find your voice. You can’t do anything. You can’t even think.

“Don’t be scared,” he murmurs, twining his fingers around your trembling ones. “It feels good, doesn’t it?”

“Mmh, no… No—stop. P-Please, sir, please stop.” You shudder against him, and a choked, broken sob rattles through your ribs. 

He chuckles and squeezes your hand. His other circles your tender, sensitive clit, and the contact elicits a whimper from you. “Even though you’re making the cutest sounds? Aah, I wanna be inside you so badly… I’m sure it’s even softer there.”

You bite down on your bottom lip so hard that your teeth pierce the skin. A thin ribbon of blood dribbles down your chin. You refuse to give him that satisfaction. Even though your attempt to snuff your voice is successful, your body doesn’t seem to agree. It shakes in fear and arousal. When he presses against your panties next, he feels the growing damp spot. 

That’s just a natural reaction, right? I’m not actually aroused by this. There’s no way!

Just when you think he might pursue further, he pulls back. His hips are still flush to your ass. You can feel his cock straining against the fabric. It’s gross and demoralizing. You’re nothing but a doll for him to get off to. Less than a person.

The train glides to a halt and the doors open. People exit and enter in a busy fashion. You stare out the window at your blurred surroundings.

When the train eases back into motion, you realize tears are welling in your eyes. They don’t fall. Not yet.

It isn’t until you get off at your stop, sprint the rest of the way home, hurry up into your apartment, and lock the door that the horror of it all finally catches up to you. You collapse to your knees and wail like you’ve just lost something precious—something you’ll never be able to get back.

You’ve never felt more dirty before.

entry 36: 4 May, 20XX.

I did it. I finally did it.

My hand is shaking; I’m so happy. No, I’m more than happy. I’m absolutely overjoyed!

You don’t know this about me yet, but I’m terribly envious. I suppose that’s why I could muster the confidence to touch you and hold you… Your body is so soft against mine. Every inch of you is beautiful. I wish I could have felt beneath your shirt, lifted your bra to see your bare breasts in the window’s reflection. This is quite the shameless admission. Even I, despite admiring you for so long, am loath to admit it.

You mesmerize me. I’m already flustered just thinking about the way your hand fit in mine when I held it… And you were aroused! I was so close to such a precious area, and you were wet for me and only me. I feel so overwhelmed. It’s a dream come true. You’re such an angel. My angel.

My dear, darling angel, I’m sorry for startling you. That was the only way, you see, and certain circumstances led me to that point. You must understand.

To be unfiltered about it, it was annoying seeing that security guard pester you. I had the strongest urge to kill him, but that’s not something you can do on a whim. Murder is like running a business, in a way. One misstep, a bad investment or a sliver of evidence left behind, and it might spell the end.

That’s besides the point. It’s hardly worth the time. 

Regrettably, while on the train into the city, I noticed you were wearing trousers today. I was right. Last night was a once-in-a-lifetime event. A pity. Your legs in those sheer tights is a vision to behold. Luckily, I have enough pictures to satisfy the craving to see you in them. When you live with me, I’ll buy plenty of tights for you to wear around the house. That way you won’t have to worry if I rip them.

That aside, you’ve started looking over your shoulder more. You talked to that security guard longer than you normally do. It’s irritating. Quite frankly, it pisses me off.

I don’t want to be childish. I understand you’re stressed and nervous. Anyone would be. That’s normal. But I’m not going to hurt you. I even told you those exact words! I’m certain you would have calmed down if you could see my face. Unfortunately, I’m not very blessed in that department. I assure you my personality is far prettier…despite the ugly truths I’ve penned here.

But then those don’t matter when it comes to love. Even in love, couples are supposed to recognize and accept each other’s flaws. So it’s fine if I’m an ugly person. It’s fine if I’m a devil or something grotesque from the deepest trench in the sea. At least, in spite of such darkness, your halo will continue to light the way and I will always be lured in by your luminosity.

I can’t do much of anything right now and that has led me to feel increasingly itchy. I want to feel you again. Smell you. Touch you. I’d like to taste you next time. Part your legs or tear your skirt off and indulge in the space you keep hidden from me. I want to sink into your depths and know the shape of you just as you twist yourself to take the shape of me. 

It’s just not enough. I desire more of you. 

AA.

entry 40: 8 May, 20XX.

It’s been a few days. You haven’t taken the train since. Now you’re driven to and from work by that pest. I was overcome with such frustration yesterday that I slammed my hands down upon my desk and fractured my wrist. For the time being, until my wrist heals, I must wear this unsightly stabilizer-brace-thing and write carefully with my non-dominant hand. I like to consider myself ambidextrous, if only because it’s a talent I’m sure will impress you, as you seem to surround yourself with successful, talented people, but I must admit my lettering is rather…subpar.

It’s not as neat as I hoped it would be. Something to practice while my wrist heals, I suppose.

There’s only so much strain I can take, my angel. Are you really so afraid of me that you’ve chosen to rely on someone else to protect you? If it was funny, I’d laugh. But it’s not. It’s annoying. Must I chain you up by the throat so that you won’t run away? Must I cuff our wrists together so that neither of us can part ways? What must I do to ensure you’ll never leave me?

Every day I spend in solitude, you grow closer to everyone but me. It’s infuriating.

However, there are always silvers of hope to be found and exploited in misfortune. As a businessman, I know this well enough.

I can plan around this. I’ve taken a few photos of your house at every angle. It’s important to think ahead when making a calculated risk.

When you go to kidnap the love of your life, you must dress appropriately, no? Now should I wear a formal suit or something casual?

I have some time and plenty to look forward to.

AA.

Like always, early as usual, Jack is waiting for you below your apartment. You see his car from the window and light up at once.

It’s been two months since the incident on the train. Jack insisted you go to the police when you confided in him a week after the fact. But what could they do? A story isn’t evidence. Evidence is evidence. So to combat that, you’ve avoided public transport altogether. Jack drives you to and from work and anywhere else you need to go. You never knew him very well before this mess, and you regret not starting a friendship sooner. He’s everything you need right now: a friend, a listener, and someone you can trust and rely on.

Like always, he unlocks the door so you can put your things in the back. “It’s my turn to treat for lunch today, so let’s go somewhere you like.”

You shut the door and open the passenger side, sliding in seamlessly.

“There’s no need for that.”

Your heart skips. Your breath stumbles in your lungs. Your body tenses.

You finally look at the driver.

He’s wearing what appears to be an expensive collared shirt with a tie, but the top half is covered by the soft hoodie he’s thrown on over it. He has a mask like before, but there’s no denying his eyes. Bright and blue, deep and deceptive like the ocean, they blink back at you.

The door locks with a click.

You throw yourself at it in a useless effort to escape. The masked stranger seizes your wrist. You scream.

“There’s no need to be afraid. I-It’s only me! I won’t hurt you.” He tugs his mask down to his chin so that you can see the wobbly smile on his face. “Please don’t be scared…”

“Let go of me, you pervert!” You rip your arm free and reach for the door once more. “What the hell are you doing here?! W-Where’s Jack? Why are you—”

You choke around the rest of your words when he wraps his arms around you and yanks you over the seat towards him. You kick out like a deranged animal, breathing heavy and frantic, your eyes darting to and fro. The stranger manages to manhandle you into a chokehold despite the struggle. With his arm wrapped around your neck, he grabs a plastic water bottle with his free hand. Clumsily, he unscrews the cap and presses the lip of the bottle to your mouth.

“I’m sorry for being so rough, but I need you to drink this. Can you do that for me? Drink all of it.” As he says this, he tips the bottle and the strange liquid fills your mouth. You fight against his hold, doing everything you can to resist. He tightens his grip on you, dragging your body closer to his. “Swallow it, or I’ll slit your throat.”

Against your will, very shakily, you gulp down the solution. It tastes bitter and vile like medicine. A little salty.

“I didn’t want to frighten you, my angel, but this is the only way you’ll listen.” He swipes the tear threatening to spill from your eye. “You don’t have to cry. I’ll take you home and keep you safe. Just drink the rest of this and take a nap until we get there. That’s it. You’re almost done. I know it’s disgusting, but you have to drink it all, my love.”

“Why…” you sputter, coughing. “Why are you doing this?”

“Why?” He blinks at you as if the answer is obvious. “Because I love you.”

You can’t understand the logic there. You don’t want to.

Slumping against the seat, boneless and disturbed, you tremble when he leans over to buckle you in. And you continue to do so until you’re pulled into sleep. 

Two blue eyes follow you in your dreams, sticking to your body like old gum under a school desk. In sleep, you feel his hands on you—clinging and cloying like tentacles and the stench of brine, all-enveloping.

entry 179: 24 September, 20XX.

Summer is winding to a close. The last few vestiges of warmth are slipping away. Today’s weather was crisp. Autumn is approaching. 

It’s been a difficult few months. I’ve catalogued my process in the time you’ve spent with me, locked away in our bedroom. I must keep you chained to the bed for the time being. It’s long enough to lead into the bathroom. Until I can trust you, this is the arrangement at present.

They’re still searching for you, albeit not as frantically and frequently. I hope they assume you’ve met some grisly end so that I can finally shelve that anxiety and move on with my life. While I’m relieved it wasn’t as messy as I thought it’d be, I’m just a touch disheartened. I would have loved to watch the light fade from that guard’s eyes.

But that just wasn’t feasible or smart. Besides, what else am I to use my current fortune for, if not the props needed for that day? You call it kidnapping, and while that term is technically true I prefer something sweeter. A reunion of sorts. 

There’s nothing of note to discuss. You haven’t accepted your new home or me yet, so I will continue to wait. I can be patient. I must be if this relationship is going to work (and it will). 

I don’t particularly believe in soulmates. Rather, I find the concept to be foolish. Fate does not dictate an entire life. It is the decisions you make along the way that shape your paths. Just like in my favorite board game. I’d like to play it with you. Although I must admit I already know how our life goes. I have a few routes in mind.

You look at me with such scalding contempt when I imply we ought to start a family, and even though I’ve been victim to that look so many times it doesn’t burn any less. You just can’t see how good this is for you yet.

What else are we to do with our time if not use it to fill quiet halls with the pitter-patter of tiny feet? I have a few names in mind, but for now we’ll take it one day at a time. I’m a patient man despite my temper.

AA.

entry 257: 11 December, 20XX.

Exciting news! Though it may seem small, we’ve reached an understanding. Or so I suspect. You’re not so averse to me anymore. In fact, we take baths together, eat meals together, watch TV together, play board games together… There are so many things we do together as a couple and so, despite the encroaching winter frost, my days have become warmer! Just last night you allowed me to sleep beside you on our bed, and I held you close and you kissed me and I felt like the luckiest man alive.

Finally! Genuine progress!

I won’t delude myself and say that you may finally love me in the way I love you, but a start is a start. I admit I couldn’t help myself. I returned your kiss tenfold, all over your face, down the column of your throat to your collarbone. I was gentle and careful. I didn’t rush.

I like to play experienced in all fields, but even I can’t act perfectly. How should I describe our first time without all of the shameless vulgarity? Perhaps it doesn’t matter. Sex is sex no matter how you try to embellish it. Filthy and imperfect, sweaty and sticky, more effort and exercise than I realized.

You pulled me in close, pursued my mouth with the same want in mine, and it was more cathartic than anything I’ve ever known. Oh, to be kissed by the love of your life! I wasn’t aware such joy existed.

You palmed me through my pajamas and told me you wanted a family—that the idea of raising a little one was perfectly charming. I admit it’s an alluring thought I’ve had long before you lived with me. I’ve always thought you would look very enchanting while pregnant. I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands to myself. Even though it isn’t official yet, it doesn’t hurt to call myself your husband. In my mind and heart, we’re married. It may not seem so to you yet, but it will be.

Back to the matter at hand. Hearing that you wanted a child with me made me happy. I can’t remember if I cried. I must have because you pulled me in close and you, lying beneath me, wiped at my face and told me you wanted me to give you a child. And who am I if not the most doting, most benevolent husband? I’d do anything for you.

This must be what a predator feels when they tear into prey: a rapture so absolute and all-consuming that it covers their brain like a cotton shroud and renders every other action a hazy instinct.

It was a blur even though I was sure I moved slowly. Clothes weren’t exactly shucked. They were in the way and we had a singular goal, far too focused to remove them completely. Thus, they were pulled up, down, to the side, in whichever way provided easiest access. I closed my hands around your breasts and they feel so much softer without the obstruction of clothes.

Perhaps, rather than humans, we’re just anglerfish. Hungry for each other, using the other, a voracious relationship full of mutual benefits. If I could, I’d love to live inside you. I want nothing more than to press myself close enough to feel your heart beat alongside mine. To feel rushing blood. To turn myself inside-out just to satisfy you. Give you every little thing I can offer—brain and body—and we’d cleave through sunless waters as one, together forever.

The word ‘love’ is not large enough to truly encapsulate all that I feel for you.

My forehead pressed to yours. You kissed me once. I felt sloppy. I was sloppy. Inexperienced. We both are. Your hand wrapped around me. I told you it was okay, to do it at your own pace, to tell me if it hurts. But you kissed my every anxiety away, and in just a few strokes we were connected. Perhaps I died then and I’m still dead now.

Maybe I’m writing this from the moon or the deep, dark sea. Maybe all of this is just a long dream and I’m not even human. Maybe I’m the anglerfish stuck to your side, latched on with my sharp teeth, our lives forever intertwined. You taste of fruit and blood and every beautifully painful thing in this world.

For the first time in the many months we’ve lived together, you called me by my name. You gasped it as you curled your legs around my waist and clung to my chest, your arms draped over my neck, nails in my back. You chanted it like a song. I must have done the same with yours.

However, no amount of carnal euphoria can change the fact that I still have my reservations about unchaining you.

A deliberation for another day. It’s time to cook dinner. I’ve improved lots in the time we’ve known each other. You help around the kitchen as well. Harmless things like stirring batter or mixing a salad. I can’t trust you with actual food prep for reasons I’m sure are obvious and understandable. I try to create balanced meal plans. Now that I’m no longer eating alone and surviving off of misery, I want to show you that I’m both a great chef and a conscientious eater.

AA.

You watch the seasons shift outside the bedroom window and there’s nothing you can do.

You live life chained like a prisoner and there’s nothing you can do.

You eat off paper plates with the same utensils made for toddlers and there’s nothing you can do.

You let the same man whose touch was once so covetous pet you all over with his hands and mouth and there’s nothing you can do.

You’re stuck here forever and there’s nothing you can do.

There are highs higher than the clouds and then there are lows lower than the sea. You oscillate between these temperaments, a body thrown around on rocky waves. How you’ve yet to sink and drown for good, you’re not sure.

Today’s low has brought Azul to his knees. You stand over him, gripping the knife in a shaky hold. Chopped vegetables scatter in a rainbow on the floor. He had been chopping them so methodically, so wrapped up in pleasant conversation with you, that he hadn’t been expecting the retaliation. The blade is freshly sharpened. The perfect weapon. The perfect opportunity. Freedom just after this final hurdle.

Freedom that comes with its burdens—with a child and the law and the media and… And then what? A life of loneliness. A life spent working through mountains of trauma. A life in which you can never look at the train again.

Two blue eyes blink up at you. For the first time, Azul looks scared and weak—a small, pitiful thing. For the first time, you have him trapped beneath your thumb.

You want to bring the knife down and put an end to these cyclical days. You want to crush his spirits in the same way he crushed yours. You want him to know pain so brutal it rots him from the inside.

But you can’t. You want to and in an ideal scenario devoid of fear you would. But you can’t.

You dig your heel palms into your eyes and sob. “I can’t! I’m sorry. I… I can’t do it!”

Azul deflates with a deep sigh. “Oh… Oh, my angel, it’s all right. I forgive you. You’re just a little confused. A little emotional—I get it. We all have emotional moments. I’m not upset.”

“But I—I almost… I was going to—”

“You didn’t. You didn’t, my love, and that’s what matters.” 

He beckons you to his height; you lower to your knees. The knife is still clutched in your hands. He looks between it and you, as if weighing which is more dangerous. Volatile emotions or a blade. Maybe both.

Azul wraps his arms around you and rubs your back consolingly. “It’s okay. I’m not angry.”

You sniffle, but the tears won’t stop flowing. “Still… I almost did such a horrible thing to you. I could’ve hurt you—k-killed you!”

“My dear, it’s okay.” He kisses the top of your head, tucking you beneath his chin. “I forgive you.”

Your fingers tighten around the handle. “You do?”

“I do. I always will.”

“Well, I don’t.”

“Angel—”

You turn the sharpened point inwards and slam it into his side, just below his rib. It pierces through soft flesh. You pull away just in time to see hurt and betrayal flash across his face, hot like the tears you’re now drying.

Shakily, his movements unsteady, he reaches for the handle. His fingers dance across it, assessing the reality of the situation. You stabbed him. You did it.

He hisses through his teeth when he tears it out. Blood spatters the kitchen floor in a brilliant, vermillion arc. Azul, knife in hand, staggers to his feet and lunges.

You stumble away in a blind panic. 

“How dare you…” He clutches his side with one hand while the other slashes through the air. You narrowly dodge before the knife can slice your arm. Blood seeps through Azul’s shirt, staining his palm red. His expression is twisted in a dark concoction of agony and anger. “I’ve shown you nothing but love and care… I’ve been nothing but patient. I’ve done everything! You were beginning to warm up to me—to this life—our life! I was wrong to trust you. Get back here—”

“You’re crazy! You assaulted me, kidnapped me, threatened me! Do you really think I’d love you after all of that?!” You yelp when his slick, blood-stained fingers wrap around your wrist to drag you down. “Stop! Let go of me!”

You elbow him in the ribs, which causes a shockwave of pain to travel through him, and it gives you enough time to wriggle free. Ripping your arm from his hold, you try to get away when he, aiming to subdue you, grabs hold of your ankle next. You feel the blade sink into your calf before you see it. A terrible cry frays your throat, torn from the depths of your chest like a flower pried from the soil.

“If I’m going to die…” He flops to his knees, wheezing. “If I’m going to die, you’ll die with me.”

“Like hell I will!” you hiss through your teeth, thrashing wildly.

Stupidly, you pull the knife from where it’s wedged in. Blood spurts from the wound, trickling down your leg in a thick, steady stream. You wince and limp towards the door. Closer… You’re almost there.

Azul reaches out with a bloodied hand, his expression utterly shattered. “Wait… Don’t go any further. Please… I need you. We need each other. My angel, my love, please don’t go!”

You tear your eyes away. He’s a monster. You’ll never sympathize with him.

Just before you can get to the front door, Azul picks himself up and wraps his arms around your waist. He pulls you down and your head hits the floor with a harsh smack. You see stars. The ceiling spins above you. You try to get up, crawl away, escape—whatever it takes to lose him—but he clings to your side, holding tight. His blood is warm and wet against your shirt. The pain in your calf is sparking up your leg, joining the ache at the back of your head in duet.

Pressed so closely, the flow of blood slows. Your shirt soaks up what the rest of his already drenched shirt can’t hold.

You watch the ceiling. The light looks like a halo; it shines brightly. Azul blinks up at you, hopelessly, sickly enthralled. The tip of the knife prods at your stomach. If it pierces, you don’t feel it. You’re sore all over. Bruises are already beginning to bloom.

At the bottom of the sea, clothed in frigid darkness, there is no sense of direction.

That’s the sweetest relief while you wade into unconsciousness with a parasitic angler.

[handmade-witch]

Another round of Incorrect Quotes Generator x Slytherin Boys:

Part 1 ☆ Part 3 ☆ Part 4 ☆ Part 5 ☆ Part 6

Mattheo: Sorry I'm late, I was doing stuff.

Draco: YOU PUSHED ME DOWN THE FUCKING STAIRS!

☆☆☆

Draco: Hey, quick question. How petty am I allowed to be?

☆☆☆

Mattheo: I’m not stupid, you know.

[Y/n]: Well, you’re doing a really good impression of it!

☆☆☆

Mattheo: She's the girl of my dreams!

Theodore: You say every girl is the girl of your dreams.

Mattheo: I have a lot of dreams!

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: *banging a pen on the table out of frustration*

Mattheo: Stop that. How would YOU feel if I banged you on the table?

[Y/N]: I—

[Y/N]: I don’t know the correct answer to that question.

☆☆☆

Draco: I have an idea.

[Y/n]: A good idea?

Draco: Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

☆☆☆

*Draco is laying on the floor with their eyes closed*

Mattheo: Hey, are they sleeping or dead?

Theodore: Hopefully dead, I hated them.

Mattheo: Yeah, me too.

Draco, sitting up: First of all, fuck you guys.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: That sounds like a terrible plan.

Theodore: Oh, we've had worse.

☆☆☆

[Y/N], texting Mattheo: Text me when you’re home safely.

Mattheo: I’m home dangerously.

[Y/N]: Stop it.

Mattheo: I’m home lethally.

☆☆☆

Draco: Hey, what have you two been up to?

Mattheo: We were helping [Y/N] write their vows, but they kicked us out because Lorenzo was making inappropriate suggestions.

Lorenzo: How is “Theodore, I love your sweet ass” inappropriate?

☆☆☆

[Y/N], talking about Mattheo: Is this a friend of yours, Draco?

Draco: Kind of? Not really. They're in my life and there's nothing I can do about it.

☆☆☆

Theodore: What is wrong with you?

Mattheo: Loaded question. Elaborate.

☆☆☆

Draco: Guess what I'm about to get!

Blaise: On my nerves.

☆☆☆

Blaise: All of your existences are confusing.

The Squad: How so?

Blaise: Your presence is annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to any of you deeply upsets me.

☆☆☆

Draco: How did you convince everyone to betray me? What did you offer them?

Blaise: I just asked if they wanted to embarass you and they all said yes.

☆☆☆

Theodore: Hey, are you okay?

[Y/N]: Yeah.

Theodore: You don't look okay...

[Y/N]: Then stop looking.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: Ah ready for another fantastic day of being better than Draco.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: Kill me nowwwww.

Mattheo: Sorry, no can do. I need your help with my homework.

☆☆☆

Mattheo: Lorenzo! For the love of god, please turn down that music. I have a hangover.

Lorenzo: *blasting the mii theme at full volume* That sounds like a you problem, not a mii problem.

☆☆☆

Draco: You read my diary?

Blaise: At first I did not know it was your diary. I thought it was a very sad handwritten book.

☆☆☆

Blaise: [Y/N] won’t come out of their room!

Mattheo: Just tell them I said something.

Blaise: Like what?

Mattheo: Anything factually incorrect.

Blaise, shrugging: If you say so.

[Y/N], arriving moments later: Did you just say the sun is a PLANET?

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: If you got arrested what would be the charges?

Lorenzo: Theft.

Blaise: Disturbing the peace.

Theodore: Aggravated assault.

Draco: Arson.

Mattheo: All of the above. In that order, probably

☆☆☆

Police: You’re under arrest for trying to carry three people on a single motorcycle.

Blaise, with Theodore and Mattheo behind them: Wait, what do you mean THREE?!

Police: Yes…three.

Blaise: Oh, my God— What the fuck!?

Police: Wha-

Blaise: Lorenzo FUCKING FELL OFF!

☆☆☆

Mattheo: I said ‘No’ to drugs, but they wouldn’t listen.

☆☆☆

[Y/N]: Name a more iconic duo than my crippling fear of abandonment and my anxiety. I’ll wait.

Lorenzo: You and me!

[Y/N]: *tearing up* Ok.

☆☆☆

Theodore: *yawns*

[Y/N]: Yeah, being that pretty must be tiring.

Theodore: Then you must be exhuasted.

Blaise: Will you two shut up? Some of us are lonely.

[aethon-recs]

Tomarrymort Dead Dove Recs, Part 2 🕊️

Thank you all for the wonderful reception to Part 1 of Tomarrymort Dead Dove recs! I was honestly blown away by the interest in this first list featuring Non-Con/Dub-Con recs. It was so incredibly heartening to see that the open-mindedness towards the taboo, the degenerate, the ‘problematic’ is not only alive and well, but thriving, in this ship, when it seems like it’s been reviled and sanitized out of other ships and communities and spaces within this fandom and elsewhere. But Tomarrymort readers seem to be a special breed 🤝 and I’m just so glad we can all be horny sickos together 🤍

For Part 2 of the Dead Dove rec list, the first half is comprised of incest fics, and the second half is chan (underage) fics. These aren’t all necessarily dark fic in terms of tone or plot (some fics are actually quite cozy); the dead dove label just serves as an indicator to take the tags seriously.

Please note there is potentially triggering and disturbing content in the rec list below (including in some of the summaries), so I will be placing all 25 of these recs below the cut. Keep in mind don’t like; don’t read, so feel free to scroll on by if either incest and/or chan is not a theme you would like to explore.

This list was made in collaboration with @danpuff-ao3’s Dead Dove Diaries Series. Check it out for other HP dead dove recs!

*

Tomarrymort Incest Recs

Fruit of the Forbidden Tree (part 1) / Forbidden Indulgence (part 2) / Forbidden Darkness (part 3) by @neurowriter14 (E, 19k, complete)

The true parentage of Harry Potter was unknown to everyone except for three people. None remain, but another figures it out.

Hold Me Down (Fuck Me Up) by @itsevanffs (E, 15k, WIP)

Tom Riddle, chief of police, first met his nephew Harry Potter handcuffed to his desk, lip cut and knuckles bleeding, a proud smile on his lips and challenge in his eyes.

I Could Send You to Hell, I Know You by @dividawrites (E, 7k, complete)

Nothing about Harry Potter intrigues Tom—he's average in everything, doesn't act out in class, doesn't do very much at all, in fact. When he finds out they're related, though, this changes at once. After all, there's something to be said for family traditions.

In The Dark by @itsevanffs (E, 64k, WIP)

Harry's mother remarries shortly after his father's death to James' half-brother, Thomas, much to Harry's confusion and disgust. First a duke, now a king, it seems that nothing will stand in his uncle's way when it comes to getting what he wants. Not Lily, not propriety, and most certainly not Harry himself.

Infinite by @duplicitywrites (E, 8k, complete)

Harry and his twin brother Tom have the same mark. The same soulmate. Whoever their soulmate is, wherever they may be, they will go to Tom. Tom, however, has other plans.

Little Bits by @lordmarvoloriddle (E, 10k, complete) 

Inspired by Cinderella. Only there's no prince, and surely no one is singing about their feelings, and Harry's life could be a lot worse than having three step-brothers and a father who didn't like him. He's going to be proven right.

Plains of oblivion by @milkandmoon-ao3 (E, 3k, complete) 

Trapped in the past with no way home, a disillusioned Harry executes a plan to make an ally of the rising Dark Lord and reshape history.

Say It Right (part 1) /  Say You'll Haunt Me (part 2) by @rightonthelimitt (E, 32k, complete)

After James Potter dies, his wife and son have it rough. Their lives change for good when they meet Tom Riddle four years later, but is it for the better?

Seventeen Years by RenderedReversed (T, 10k, complete)

Voldemort is a day old when he realizes he’s been reborn to muggle parents and that he has a twin brother. He is a year old when it sinks in who his twin could possibly be. Because his twin might, possibly, probably be Harry Potter.

Summer Break by anon (E, 5k, WIP) 

A story of a brother's love and duty and terrible obsession.

the dark passenger by @cindle-writes (E, 5k, complete)

Harry had lived 17 years as a horcrux, and Ginny was possessed by another one, so is it all that surprising that their middle child reminds them a little bit too much of another boy they once knew?

*

Tomarrymort Chan (Underage) Recs

Below Stairs by pauraque (E, 1k, complete)

Harry receives a visitor.

conversationalist by worn (E, 3k, complete)

As a boy who's known silence and solitude well, Harry finds himself quickly growing attached to Tom Riddle's diary and the way it has so much to talk with him about.

Creatures of the Dark we are by @hikarimeroperiddle (M, 20k, WIP)

Banished to his cupboard at age 4, Harry learns to listen only to the Voice in his head. Its teachings wrap all around Harry until no more than dark magic and devotion remains, along with visions of a wraith with red eyes.

Everything Green Is Gold by @cindle-writes (E, 27k, complete)

Prior to Hogwarts, Harry had stayed mostly invisible to the teachers and adults around him his whole life. But Tom Riddle, the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, looked at Harry like he was something to be wanted.

File A by @kushimanii (E, 7k, complete)

In a different universe, one where the prophecy was never heard and Voldemort won, Voldemort finds eight-year-old Harry Potter in the basement of Fenrir Greyback and takes him in.

he whistles and he runs by @wolfantlersinspace (E, 5k, complete)

"Tom," Harry murmured, ducking under a branch and nearly touching the top of Tom's diary with his lips, "I really don’t like this."

Hearthstone Abbey by @ramabear (E, 92k, WIP)

Harry follows Thomas Gaunt into his world much like he stepped onto Diagon Alley that first time, wide-eyed and full of wonder. He has no idea what exactly this world has in store for him, but he knows that with Thomas at his side, he is safe and happy for the first time in his whole life. 

Make a Wish by @crowcrowcrowthing (E, 3k, complete)

Tom Riddle is wasting away in his hospital bed, far too young to succumb to such a terrible and mysterious illness. The only thing that gives him solace is the hope that football star Harry Potter might visit him in his final days.

Quam singulari by anon (E, 6k, complete)

Spermarche: the beginning of a boy's development of sperm; normally signifies a boy's beginning in sexual maturity and puberty.

shelter from the storm by @cindle-writes & @duplicitywrites (E, 7k, complete)

After being left behind by the Dursleys, Harry stumbles upon an empty shack in the middle of nowhere, where he finds a mysterious ring underneath the loose floorboards.

study session by @ilya-zzz (E, 3k, complete)

"Tom–" Harry tries, coughing a couple times before lifting his hands to his head, softly rubbing his temples a couple times. "...I think you should go back to your common room."

The Abyss by AislingSiobhan (E, 36k, complete)

Nietzsche was right: when fighting monsters, Harry should have been more careful not to become one himself. That didn’t matter anymore. It was too late to save himself, yet he could still save the world from Voldemort. But who would save Voldemort from him?

the eternal flame by @duplicitywrites (E, 25k, WIP)

There’s a well-dressed older man who enters the orphanage asking after Tom Riddle. The man’s green eyes fix on Tom’s face, searching and searching. “My name is Harry Gaunt,” the man says, the tenor of his voice soft and faltering, a reflection of Tom's deepest, most secret anxieties, “and I’m here to adopt you.”

This Is Why You Don't Summon Demons, Harry by @kushimanii (E, 59k, complete)

Harry Potter is seven when he's left at the nearby church by Petunia to get an exorcism. Instead, he ends up summoning a demon that he makes a deal with. The demon, Voldemort, will protect him, and in return, the demon will devour his soul when it is ripe.

Without A Chance by Harryfan80 (E, 20k, complete)

When Voldemort (as Quirrell) meets Harry in her first year at Hogwarts, he exploits her naivete and uses her to acquire the Sorcerer's Stone.

*

[kaorisun]

𓆩ꨄ︎𓆪 immortality is an abundant curse (3)

pairing : blade x reader

tags : hurt no comfort, angst, canon divergence

word count : 4.88k

chapters : one • two • three

crossposted to : AO3

Summary : “Everything changed the day Imbibitor Lunae committed a grave sin in the eyes of the Xianzhou. Upon Ren, he bestowed the most abundant curse known to man.

“Immortality.”

or

The full story.

Yanqing wears his heart on his sleeve.

Given this fact, you truly should’ve figured that Jing Yuan would know exactly who had taken his diary upon discovering it missing.

However, this thought doesn’t cross your mind, so when Jing Yuan arrives at the clinic that night to search for his young apprentice, you’re terribly startled.

Yanqing, who’d been carefully showing you the fruits of his training inside the clinic, drops his sword with a clatter, gasping upon seeing the General appear at the door.

“It wasn’t me!” he yelps indignantly. Jing Yuan gives the boy an amused look.

“Oh? I haven’t even mentioned what I’m here for. How did you know I’d accuse you?” the General questions. Yanqing deflates, having exposed himself and his guilt without the man having to do so much as lift a finger. You reach out towards Yanqing, wanting to defend the boy from any potential ire or anger.

All things considered, he’d done it for your sake. You wouldn’t let him take the blame for such a kindhearted action.

Bailu beats you to it first. Grabbing the journal from her desk, she tosses it to the General. The man catches it with one hand before looking at her curiously.

“Take it. I already read through all of it. I have a good memory. I’ll tell them the stories myself, whether you agree with it or not,” Bailu insists, turning away in annoyance. Unexpectedly, instead of disagreement or disdain, Jing Yuan chuckles and shakes his head.

“I think you’re mistaken. I didn’t come here to scold anyone or take this back. Actually, I commend Yanqing for taking a stand against me and remaining firm in his belief that you had the right to know,” Jing Yuan says with a small smile. Yanqing lets out a relieved sigh before picking up his sword, migrating to the edge of your bed to seat himself.

You tilt your head in confusion. “Why aren’t you upset?”

Jing Yuan suddenly looks sheepish, reaching back to rub his neck. “Actually, I went to the Divination Commission to inquire about this situation. Needless to say, the Master Diviner did not agree with how I handled everything.”

You hum softly, the thought bringing you some comfort. “Did she use the Matrix of Prescience to arrive at that answer?” you ask.

“Actually….” Jing Yuan trails off as he averts his gaze. Bailu pipes up with an amused huff.

“Fu Xuan scolded you, didn’t she?” she interrogates. The General sighs softly before confirming the healer’s suspicions with a small nod.

“Well, what she said, and I quote, ‘despite having the title Divine Foresight, you spend no time thinking about the consequences of your decisions. I don't even need a third eye to see why that’s wrong. Your apprentice has more of a head than you do,’ or something along those lines,” Jing Yuan recounts with a guilty expression.

“I’m glad someone got it through that thick skull of yours, General. The memories are a precious thing to the Vidyadhara race. I can hardly believe you hid so much myself,” Bailu chastises, crossing her arms.

“I know, I know. I realize my mistake,” he starts, walking over to you and sitting beside Yanqing on the edge of the bed. “I'm glad my nosy apprentice told you everything. I thought I was protecting you by keeping everything a secret, but I only caused you more stress in the end.”

You offer a gentle smile. “I went along with it without a fuss because I trusted you. It hurt, but I figured you wouldn’t hide things without reason.”

“And even knowing that I’ve been shielding you from something painful, you still want the truth?” the man asks, the worry clear in his expression. You meet his gaze and nod.

“Yes. Learning the truth is allowing me to feel more and more complete. Even if it’s upsetting, I need to know,” you insist. Jing Yuan chuckles.

“Even without your memories, you’re just as headstrong as you were back then,” he muses. “In that case, I’ll take responsibility, and I’ll be the one to deliver the truth to you.”

“At a later date,” Bailu interjects before Jing Yuan can flip open his diary to the relevant pages. “Save any new stories for tomorrow. I don’t want to strain them further.”

“Strain..?” the General mumbles. You quickly pipe in to clarify.

“Ren… I remembered my first meeting with him. I remembered loving him. But… everything else is still foggy,” you explain.

“But that was enough to make you faint! Lady Bailu is right. We should wait,” Yanqing adds. Jing Yuan looks at you and ruffles your hair affectionately.

“In that case, tomorrow. After our duties, I’ll sit down with you and tell you more. Every single day that Bailu allows it, I’ll tell you something new,” he promises. You feel your heart warm, a weight lifted off your chest.

“I’ll hold you to it. I’m sure Yanqing will, as well. Every day…” you murmur, a small grin making its way onto your face at the thought of finally securing a way to retrieve all of what you’d lost.

Soon, you’ll have all of the pieces of your past life. Once you do, you’ll finally know everything that transpired that led you to where you are now.

As excited as you are, you can’t help but feel a sense of dread.

There’s bound to be many joyous tales from your past, but the story of heartache and loss looms over you. It reminds you that, as happy as things may be, you have to prepare yourself to accept the pain and suffering of your previous life.

You can only hope that it’s something you’ll be able to handle when the time comes.

Dusk turns to dawn, and the sun rises on a new day.

True to his word, Jing Yuan begins visiting you in the evenings at the clinic to tell you new anecdotes from your past. Filling your head with stories that feel familiar— nostalgic, he tells tales each night until your head aches, a sign that you’ve taken in enough for the day.

The General helps you recall your first meeting with him— introduced as mutual friends of Imbibitor Lunae. You slowly remember the way you would watch the two spar, happy to clean up any wounds that came as a result.

Beyond that, Jing Yuan even shares how he’d been the one to push Lunae to introduce Ren to you, having always thought that you’d be a good influence on the man. Lunae agreed, and the General had considered it a personal victory.

However, he speaks of the way you fought alongside him in battle. This fact has you curious, having always assumed you were nothing but a healer.

Jing Yuan clarifies that you were a healer, and you once took up a sword to fight against the Denizens of Abundance precisely because of that reason. Each battle he recounts has your hands ghosting over areas where you swear you feel a slight pin prick of pain.

The General mentions that each place you touch is a place where your skin had once scarred over with wounds from each fight. It makes you smile— it seems the body truly never forgets.

Days continue to pass, and with time, your mind becomes less and less fractured. With each new tale, you grow more and more sure of who you are now and who you once were. Skills you once forgot become second nature once more. Memories return to you sometimes with the assistance of Jing Yuan and Bailu. Others enter your mind naturally, a byproduct of the newfound exposure to your past life.

Bailu notes your increased skill and confidence in healing, recognizing the way you improve as you remember the techniques of your profession. Your heart fills with warmth. You start to feel like yourself again— no longer a wanderer with nothing but shards of the past to their name.

Yet, as elated as you are to make such progress, it’s bittersweet.

You know they’re still deliberately avoiding how it all ended— how your Ren became Blade, the nature of your relationship, anything to do with him. Given that they’ve yet to broach the topic, all of those memories remain locked behind a wall. Unlike other moments, you’re unable to recollect it on your own— likely too heavy a topic to be triggered without help.

A frown appears on your face. You haven’t felt more sound of yourself in ages. Are you still unprepared? Is everyone coddling you once more?

How tragic a topic is the reality of your disappearance to cause them to hold off for this long?

Either way, it fills you with uncertainty and unease. You resolve to ask about it that evening, but it seems you don’t have to, for fate aligns itself at the perfect time.

As the sun begins to fall beneath the horizon, Jing Yuan, Yanqing, and Bailu all approach you, seating you on the bed as they surround you. Their expressions are all terse— hesitant.

You’re about to ask about what’s occurred— unsettled by the tension, but Jing Yuan is the first to speak up, interrupting any thoughts you have.

“You’ve made significant progress with your memory recovery. Bailu has deemed you mentally sound enough to learn of the truth. I’ll tell you everything. Who he was in regards to you, what happened to him… and how it all ended,” the General explains. Your heart flutters in nervousness and anticipation alike.

“Everything…?” you echo. Bailu nods.

“You’ve retained everything else well. I can’t promise that this won’t cause some sort of physical reaction. Much like the first time, it’s likely you’ll experience some pain, but… if we’re right, this should be the last time,” the healer promises with a determined gaze. You smile, feeling comfort in the resolve of those around you.

“Alright. I trust you,” you say. Bailu nods to Jing Yuan, who seats himself beside you as he begins to recount his experience from his memories.

He starts. “There’s one thing I’m certain about. The way you could never tell how Ren felt towards you seems to have stuck. You were the same back then, but I knew— everyone knew that Ren loved you more than anything in this world.”

“For a while, you didn’t realize just how hard Ren had fallen for you. It was incredibly obvious to the rest of us, though. Perhaps… it was because you were always looking away. When he regarded you with nothing but pure adoration, you were inevitably turned in the other direction.”

Ren lets out an affectionate sigh as he looks at you, head propped on his hand as he watches you stare down at your work table in pure concentration. The soft grind of pestle against mortar resounds through the building. Jing Yuan chuckles softly, looking at Ren with a smirk.

“Do you plan on saying anything to them? Or are you determined to long in secrecy for the rest of your life?” he questions, teases slipping off his tongue. Ren narrows his eyes at the man.

“Watch yourself, General,” he retorts. Jing Yuan lets the empty threat slide off him with ease, refusing to back down.

“All you do is sigh and stare in every moment you spend in their presence. Why are you so hesitant?” he asks. Ren glances away towards the herbs and medicines lining the walls— all fruits of your labor.

“They’re dedicated to their craft. They wouldn’t have the time for such frivolity,” he laments. Jing Yuan hums and gives a dismissive wave of his hand.

“Nonsense. They have plenty of time to spare. I often hear them complaining that they have too much time to Lunae,” Jing Yuan counters. Ren tenses, his lips pressing into a thin line.

“I doubt they feel the same affection for me as I do for them,” he mumbles. The General has to hold back from barking out a laugh.

“Please! That’s absolutely absurd. All I hear from you are excuses,” he insists. Before Ren has a chance to retaliate, another voice speaks up.

“The General is right about this, as boastful as he’s acting currently,” Imbibitor Lunae adds in, seating himself at the table with the two. “Both of you have a limited amount of time, Ren. It’d be unwise to waste it wondering if they feel the same.”

“Exactly. Besides, if you hold back on making a move, maybe I will,” Jing Yuan jests with a smirk. Ren shoots up in his seat.

“You will not!” he seethes before rolling his eyes, practically stomping off to retreat to your side. Jing Yuan watches in amusement.

“Do you think he’ll say anything or just sulk as per usual?” he asks. The dragon beside him hums.

“Have more faith in him. You pushed him right where he needed to be pushed. Just observe for now,” Lunae says, and Jing Yuan does so.

“I guess Ren really was at his wits end at that point, and Lunae was able to pick up on it. We watched, and you leapt into his arms after he professed his love. All of us knew it was a matter of time before you ended up together, but seeing it… it was a weight lifted for all of us.

“You two were finally happy.

“For a while after that, things were calm and comforting. Ren came to terms with his short life since you’d be there to spend it with him. I’d never seen anything make him happier than the day you became his, and he, yours.

“Truthfully, I think, that day, he found something worth living for in his relationship with you. Of course, he had the rest of us, but we were all long-life species. In you, he came to understand why life was so precious— why he had to treasure his existence, no matter the length of it.

“Alas, he was still… reckless, but just in the normal, stubborn, and headfast way that he always was. You were always there to scold him for it, but we all could tell it was different. Ren was fighting for his beliefs— no longer careless about his life. He was, in lack of better terms, himself.

“As I’m sure you’re aware by now, such tranquility couldn’t last forever.

“Everything changed the day Imbibitor Lunae committed a grave sin in the eyes of the Xianzhou. Upon Ren, he bestowed the most abundant curse known to man.

“Immortality.

“It was supposed to be another battle, but the two of them had been taking far longer than usual. Both of us were worried— aware that something was amiss, but afraid to speak it aloud lest we manifest it into reality…”

Jing Yuan watches you pace nervously outside of the hall. From where he leans against the wall, he can see the frenzied fear in your eyes as you look out in the distance every few minutes, hoping to see Lunae and Ren in the horizon.

The General is equally as concerned, but he knows that he must remain grounded to keep you sane.

“Imbibitor Lunae and Ren are both capable warriors. I’m sure that they’re fine. They’re probably just falling behind,” Jing Yuan reasons. You shake your head in disagreement.

“It’s been weeks. That’s not normal. The last time it took this long, someone—” you cut yourself off, flinching. The man’s expression becomes grim. He knows you’re right— that your worry is not unwarranted.

Neither of you wanted to be “too late” again.

Walking up beside you, Jing Yuan nudges you gently.

“Let’s head out. We’ll find them ourselves,” the General assures. You offer a wry smile and nod, but before either of you can make a move, another voice interjects.

“No need. We’ve returned,” Lunae says as he approaches with Ren by his side. Jing Yuan can see your excitement, but then watches as you freeze, expression falling as you look at Ren. The General notices what you do, too.

It isn’t uncommon to return from prolonged battles covered in blood, tattered with memories of the ongoing war. However, Ren seems far too pristine to have just returned from a battlefield. He’s glowing in a way that seems… unnatural.

Your eyes shift to Imbibitor Lunae, and suddenly your eyes are cold— distant.

“I think you caught something in his mannerisms that I couldn’t. You saw something that I couldn’t see, quickly catching on that something was inherently wrong— that they were hiding something.”

“What happened?” you ask, a seriousness in your tone that felt incredibly off-putting, given that you were referring to your lover and close friend. Instead of a response, Ren reaches towards you, pulling you into a tight embrace as if his life depended on it.

You pause, carefully wrapping your arms around Ren, running fingers through his hair as you repeat your earlier question.

“What happened?” you inquire, almost pleading now. Ren stills in your arms, silently burying his face in your neck. You frown, looking to Lunae once more for answers. Jing Yuan doesn’t move from his spot, either, trying to make sense of what it is you’re picking up on.

Eventually, beneath your persistent gaze, Lunae cracks.

“Ren nearly died on the battlefield,” he admits. You tighten your grip on your lover, eyes wide with a shock that Jing Yuan mirrors.

“He looks perfectly fine… he’s walking on his own two feet, and there isn’t a trace of blood on him…” you note in disbelief. Imbibitor Lunae looks away, seeming guilty in the way his eyes fall.

“I know. That’s because I…” Imbibitor Lunae goes quiet, unable to bring himself to finish his thought. Jing Yuan narrows his eyes, arms crossing over his chest as he looks at the other.

“You what?” the General interrogates. However, the dragon doesn’t spare him a glance, instead looking to you with something that makes your eyes fill with fury. Before he can raise questions, you’re quick to clarify.

“You made him immortal? Why would you do such a grievous thing?!” you snap, forcefully separating yourself from your lover. Ren reaches for you desperately, but you take a step back. Jing Yuan easily recognizes the look of betrayal on your face.

“I can explain—” Ren starts, but you cut him off harshly.

“What is there to explain here?! I’ve treated the Mara-Struck— victims of the Sanctus Medicus, and you want to explain? I’m a healer and even I’m aware that immortality isn’t a remedy of any sort! It’s a venom! A curse!” you yell, eyes brimming with tears. Jing Yuan remains mute, unable to understand why anyone would resort to such a taboo method for any reason, especially given all that they’d witnessed together.

“Please, calm yourself and allow us to talk this o—” Before Lunae can finish his thought, you interrupt.

“Calm myself? Imbibitor Lunae, have you forgotten that I’m dying? In a few decades, I’ll be gone! Ren no longer has the mercy of dying by my side! He’ll have to witness everything!” you cry out, voice cracking as tears slip down your cheeks.

“He’ll endure so much suffering, and he’ll never be able to die…” you whisper, finally gathering enough strength to meet Ren’s gaze. “You promised.”

Ren is quick to scoop you into his arms, wiping your tears away with his thumb.

“I also promised to return to you. We’re both here now. That must count for something. Without immortality, I wouldn’t have returned to greet you again— to hold you again. And immortality doesn’t change a thing. I still plan to remain by your side for eternity,” he promises softly. You look up at him, an unfathomable sadness in your eyes.

Briefly, Jing Yuan catches you glancing at Lunae. There’s a wordless exchange in the expression you share with the Vidyadhara. The General has no idea what it is that you both say, but it’s enough because soon you’re releasing a defeated sigh.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Ren,” you say softly. Ren smiles, leaning down to kiss you gently. You reciprocate for a moment before pulling away, allowing yourself to enjoy the warmth of his presence.

Despite everything, Jing Yuan can tell that it isn’t something you’d ever move on from.

“You never brought up Ren’s immortality of your own accord ever again after that day. If it came up in conversation, you always excused yourself to be alone for a while.

“There was a time that I confronted you about it, though. I knew it was forbidden, but I needed to know what was going through your head. Honestly, I don’t think I could ever forget what you said to me that day.”

“Why wouldn’t I be upset, Jing Yuan?” you start, head in hands as you shut your eyes tight.

“There will come a time where Ren suffers unimaginable pain, and I won’t be there to help him. There will come a day where myself, Imbibitor Lunae, and even you aren’t there to support him through his suffering,” you explain. The General pauses, not having thought that far into the future.

You continue in his silence. “My death is just the start. I don’t think Ren understands how much of a tragedy that is. Soon, we will all leave him, and he’ll come to understand that death is far more merciful than being the last person left alive of all those you’ve grown to love.”

You frown and walk off, your words weighing heavily in Jing Yuan’s heart.

“I grew to understand exactly how right you were in your assumption as the years passed. When you faded away and crumbled— I witnessed firsthand how cruel his affliction was.

“Ren knew he couldn’t live without seeing you once more, I don’t think he ever thought about the inevitable day where he’d have to learn to live without you entirely.

“The day you disappeared… I could tell everything weighed heavily on your mind. In the face of your inevitable demise, you still worried for Ren.”

Jing Yuan lets out a soft sigh, watching Lunae and Ren leave for their duties. Glancing back to you on the bed, he tilts his head.

“You looked like you had more to say back then. Something else on your mind?” he asks as he seats himself on the edge of your bed. You look at him, a serious look in your eyes.

“I promise that, one day, I will find my way back to you all. One day, I’ll return, so Ren won’t have to suffer on his own,” you swear. Jing Yuan offers a sympathetic smile.

“Unless you’re a Vidyadhara, reincarnation is just a legend,” he mentions. You don’t respond, instead humming in acknowledgement to the General’s statement.

“Of course, I didn’t know you were one back then, but what I did know is that you were incredibly firm in your desire. Either way, I’d brushed it off.

“I left the room to make your medicine, but you had disappeared when I returned. Only then did I realize… that promise was your last wish— your final resolve.”

Jing Yuan continues his explanation, telling you the results of your disappearance.

Ren was never the same. He spent countless hours looking for you— searching for a body, but you’d vanished completely, much like the Mara-Struck who faded into nothingness. From that day forth, Ren’s mind fractured and he grew resentful of his curse.

As you predicted, the rest of your group slowly began to die out, your lover forced to suffer through each and every one knowing he’d never be granted the same reprieve.

Then came time for Imbibitor Lunae to pass and reincarnate.

“After Lunae died, Ren disappeared entirely, his mind shattered beyond repair— a shell of who he once was. Losing his bosom friend was the final straw.

“I tried to search for him, but he’d vanished from the Xianzhou Alliance entirely. I figured he didn’t want to be found, so I was forced to move on lest I suffered the same fate:

“Lost in our past without direction or will to live.”

Jing Yuan sighs as he finishes the story, shaking his head. “I thought it all a distant memory, then I saw you again on the Luofu as Bailu’s assistant. You looked the same way you did back then.”

“At first, I thought you just looked similar, but then I saw the horns and tail and I knew— you’d found your way back as promised, and you were a Vidyadhara. I’m sure I acted strange when we first met, but I was trying to confirm that it was really you,” he admits.

The memory of that day rushes to the forefront of your mind. The Arbitor-General had followed you and Bailu back to the clinic. His eyes were trained on your tail, watching the way it swayed as you worked before his gaze settled on your horns.

Jing Yuan had carefully observed you as you made medicine at Bailu’s work table, humming a tune that you’d heard from earlier in the day. It startled you how attentive he was being, but now it made sense.

“I confirmed it through your mannerisms and habits. I saw the way you carefully healed others. Then, you expressed familiarity towards me and that sealed it. Unfortunately, I knew you were without your memories.

“I had been keeping tabs on Blade since he appeared on the IPC’s most wanted list, and I vowed to protect you from him. If he saw you and you didn’t remember him, I had a feeling it wouldn’t go well,” Jing Yuan says, frowning.

“I thought protecting you meant guarding you from the truth so you never had to learn of the tragedy that became of your past lover, but I know now that you have to make this choice yourself. By deliberately concealing this, I’ve already hurt you enough,” he finishes softly, resting a comforting hand on your shoulder.

You remain silent and still, staring blankly ahead. From the corner of your eye, Bailu frowns.

“Are you alright?” she asks, preparing for any sort of pain that might occur as a result of everything.

Instead, tears begin to slip down your cheeks, dripping down onto your hands as you grip your robes tightly in your lap. Smiling sadly, you blink rapidly in an attempt to clear your vision of the glistening drops.

Jing Yuan is the first to react, cupping your face in his hands and wiping away your tears gently as you sniffle softly.

“What’s the matter?” the General questions, concern etched into his features. You shake your head, words caught in your throat.

Everything in your mind is clicking into place, pieces falling and fitting together.

Ah, of course. I promised this so long ago, your mind echoes. I said that I’d return— that I’d remember— so I could make it back to you and protect you from the curse you fell into.

Your shoulders shake as you begin to sob. The General pulls you into a tight embrace, Yanqing leaning against your side in an attempt to provide comfort as well.

You usually never remember any last reincarnations as a Vidyadhara. Memory is a spectrum for your kind, and you always ebbed on the side of starting with an entirely clean slate. It’s why you were so certain you’d die when you left to be born again.

You wouldn’t take any memories of your past with you, and you wouldn’t recall them.

Except, this time you did.

Dying and rebirthing with such a strong resolve meant that, since you awoke in this new life, you’ve always felt that something was missing.

Now, you know what it is.

But it’s too late, isn’t it?

You bury your face in Jing Yuan’s shoulder as you cry, mourning the past you lost, and the lover you abandoned in this world.

If Blade’s mind fractured so long ago, do you even hold a place in his memories anymore?

Is there anything you could do in your current state to help him?

Or was all of this remembrance for naught?

For this, you had no answer.

Hidden away somewhere in the Luofu, a woman observes a man from afar.

Kafka recognizes the distant expression Blade wears as he stares out at the scenery and passing Starskriffs. It’s vulnerable— longing— one that he only wears when he thinks no one is watching.

However, her attention is diverted elsewhere when her phone vibrates with an incoming text. Glancing down at the device, she smirks as she reads the message.

Kafka. Plans have changed. Blade’s initial wish will be granted.

The woman raises a brow in amusement, typing and replying to his message with a teasing response.

Even we aren’t capable of necromancy, Elio.

Instead of commenting on her witty remarks, he merely sends back a simple text which serves as enough of an explanation for Kafka.

The Vidyadhara has remembered themself, thus returning to who they once were.

Await new instructions.

The woman looks back up at Blade, smirking as she pockets her phone.

What new side of him will she be able to witness? What sort of expression will he have when Elio surprises him with this?

Kafka can’t wait to see how this story plays out.

tag rqs : @ceylestia - @thetwinkims - @astralsity - @kaminari-no-ritsusha - @jotaro-souped

[nobodysdaydreams]

Explaining fandoms I’m not in, but I have seen on my dash from the mutuals (to the best of my knowledge based on their posts):

Why? Because I thought it would be fun and entertaining and I hope I’m not wrong.

The Magnus Archives (TMA)- a group of people document creepy and supernatural events while they slowly one by one discover either that they are the monsters/possessed by them, or that they are being taken in by the monsters, or that their coworkers are the monsters, or that they themselves are possibly friends with or dating the monsters, or that they have been working for the monsters (or bad guys) the entire time. Many of the villains seem to be demented or possessed life sized toys and clowns or eyeballs. This podcast has so many episodes, and I see so many posts about it, but these seem to be the common themes.

Miraculous Ladybug- actually haven’t seen this one on my dash in a long time, but when I first did, despite appearing like a straightforward kids fandom, the shipping discourse confused the heck out of me. But if I have this right, based on the posts from my younger followers, two teenagers are animal themed superheroes who are dating each other and also have crushes on each other, but they don’t know they are dating each other, because they don’t know each others secret identities, because… okay, I still honestly have no idea why. There are ~5K posts about this apparently very central and specific plot line, but not one explains why they don’t just tell each other who they are??? Anything for the plot, I guess. Apparently this has been going on for a long time to the point where even the show’s target audience of children is confused as to how these teenagers and grown adults haven’t put the pieces together as to who everyone’s secret identity is.

Keeper of the Lost Cities (KOTLC)- there’s a girl named Sophie. She is an elf in a love triangle with Keefe and some other guy (I think his name is Fritz). Keefe’s parents are terrible, especially his mom. Sophie has horse DNA (I don’t know if that post was a joke or not sorry if that’s wrong). There’s an elf with fire powers. Elves read minds. There’s a group called the black swan who are the good guys, I think. Also I think the elves and humans are at war. I know Keefe’s parents are trash, does Sophie have parents? From what I can tell, she grows up believing she’s a human but then surprise! She’s an elf and the chosen one, and elves are possibly immortal? Wait, maybe Sophie’s a half elf. Is that a thing?

Spy x Family - two people are fake dating each other for spy reasons but eventually fall in love for real. The twist is, they each think the other is a normal civilian who doesn’t know about the fake relationship (which is kinda messed up to make someone fall in love with you for a fake cover but if they’re also doing the same to you that’s karma I guess) but I think it might end up ok, because they fall in love for real (Aw) but possibly also not okay, because I also think it might be revealed that they’ve been working for enemy sides this whole time (drama). Also the adopted daughter is a mind reader who knows everything but chooses to keep what she knows secret for the plot. Respect. And I recently saw something about the family having a super powered dog? Is he real?

The Murderbot Diaries - a bunch of robots are created for one purpose: murder. But when their murder programming goes haywire, they discover that they might have more in common with the humans they’ve been assigned to kill than they originally thought. Or that they have more humanity inside themselves than they thought… or maybe that the people who created them have more evil intentions than… well in hindsight, “the people who build the murder robots are evil!” seems like an obvious plot twist, but maybe they’re more morally complex or had decent intentions and just never intended for it to go this far… or maybe the robots get hacked or decide maybe they don’t want to be murder bots anymore which brings us back to free will. Interesting philosophical questions, but I think the robots might be getting into some wacky shenanigans as well. Also they apparently have diaries. I get that a diary is just like… a log of what they’re doing, but that won’t stop me from imaging a big scary robot with a little pink glitter pen writing “Dear Diary, I killed three people today. I still see their faces when I try to power off at night. When I go into sleep mode, I dream of their faces. I begin to wonder things, like whether they had families, dreams, or ambitions. I also wonder what they felt in their final moments. I fear this means I am developing a conscience and desire to turn against my programming and the creators. But probably nothing a little update and restart can’t fix. I’ll keep you updated, dairy. XOXO, Murderbot 💕” So. How did I do? Scale of 1-10, with 10 being “you nailed it!” and 1 being “None of this is remotely close. What posts have you been looking at?”

[dollywheeler]

October 23th, 1996

Dear diary,

Let’s see - the last few days have kind of been a blur.

I don’t think I did anything particularly interesting, just following my routine - same old same old. I had to spend all of Sunday catching up on my homework, so nothing special happened there. Mike let me take his old guitar home, though, and the reading for English class is going a lot better now I can alternate chapters of Walden with a moment of playing music. My Oasis tape has been running non-stop.

Cheer practice is going fine - the routines are a bit easier now so I’m having less trouble. I try to practice the harder ones as often as possible, but I still haven’t found a solution for practicing the jumps on my own.

Oh! I almost forgot - On Sunday, I watched Dracula! Danny recommended it and I wanted to watch something while finishing my homework. It was too good - I had to pause it and rush to finish my homework so I could watch it properly; This is exactly why I usually play something I’ve already seen.

I wish we could have watched it together though, but we’ve both been so busy we’ve barely had the chance to spend time together. Whenever he doesn’t have basketbal practice, I have cheer or babysitting, or he has to work at the diner. Mrs. Benson is doing a lot better, at least, so I don’t have to go over as often. Danny joins us for lunch most days, though, and I try to come to the diner as much as possible - it’s nice, just being able to talk to him, even if it’s in snippets between him serving the other customers. Christy doesn’t seem to mind it too much, either, as long as Danny doesn’t leave anyone waiting for too long.

Still, I hope we can go on an actual date again soon.

Mom already hinted at having him over for dinner and I’m… Not sure how to feel about that.

I mean, Danny’s great and I’m sure Dad will like him - I already know mom does because she can’t stop raving about our homecoming pictures. She went to pick them up from the developer on Monday and though I do look terrible in a lot of them, there’s some really cool pictures as well - ANYWAY, what I was trying to say (write? Whatever) was that it feels weird to have him over for dinner with the family.

I was too young to remember the first time Jonathan joined us for dinner - if he ever did before they both went off to college - so it’s not like I can look to my older sister for an example.

Lord knows Mike never brought a girl home.

What I’m trying to say is - I have no idea how Mom and Dad are gong to act. Especially dad - there’s a big enough gap between me and Nancy that I’m sure dad is going to have to get used to his daughter dating all over again.

I might call Nancy and ask for advice - if she has the time, of course. She’s so busy lately running all over the place. When I called on Saturday she said they’d be coming back to the US on Tuesday, but it wouldn’t be the first time their stay got extended. I’ll probably just wait on her to call over the weekend, just in case.

I don’t know what else to write about really, but I’m at the diner and a table in the back is staring at me. I don’t know why - I know their faces but not their names. Pretty sure one used to be the school’s librarian before he retired a few years ago. I see him and the woman he’s talking to around town sometimes, walking dogs, or here at the diner drinking coffee and gossiping as they are now. Most residents always follow everything going on around them, and I’m sure they recognise me in turn from seeing me around one too many times, but today I swear they’ve been looking at me specifically for way too long.

So, I took out my diary and started writing so it seems like I’m not bothered and can’t hear what they’re saying.

It’s strangely unsettling. I don’t know - they seem judgemental, and I feel judged, though for the life of me I can’t figure out why. I’m not doing anything different. I don’t look anything different - I’m not wearing anything special. Sure, I’ve been talking to Danny a lot because it’s so calm today, but it’s not like we’re being particularly loud.

Pretty sure I just heard them say “the Byers kid” - which is strange, because a, I’m not a Byers, and b, I’m not my brother - hell, we don’t even look alike.

I didn’t even realise they knew who I was, let alone who my brother’s friends are. Anyway, it’s weird how hung-up they are about Mike and Will’s return to Hawkins - I mean, it’s been more than two months, and they were only gone for - what? Seven? Ish? Years? I don’t even know.

I guess that’s the one downfall from living in a small town.

Most of the time it’s an advantage - like havig to go to the post office during the summer and getting to chat with Dylan while she works, or feeling completely at home in a diner because you know every face there. It’s nice knowing your neighbours and your neighbour’s neighbours in turn.

Like last week, with Mrs. Benson, I heard soooo many stories about the people around town. And sure, it’s gossip which isn’t always nice, but more often than not it’s just keeping everyone updated. It’s how we all show we care - how else would Mom know who’s in desperate need of a casserole or a plate of cookies?

That sounds like a hyperbole or whatever - Mike would probably know the perfect term - but it’s more relevant than one might think.

Plenty people don’t know to ask for help - like Mrs. Benson - and they’re just waiting on people to offer it.

If there’s one thing I’ve learned from mom, is that more often than not overbearing is just bearing enough.

Anyway, Daniel and his mom are new to town too, but no one’s talking about that anymore either. Now I think about it, it is weird that people seem more hung-up about them than Danny. I mean, Danny and his mom are total outsiders - even if they only came from a few towns over - but at least Mike and Will are known strangers. They came back, which isn’t unheard of.

Mr. Howard, our PE teacher, for example, moved back in his thirties to take care of his ailing father. His father is still kicking around, by the by, even though he’s been back for almost twenty years now. Anyway, even though he’d been gone for seventeen years, everyone acted like he’d simply never left.

Max’ mom, on the other hand, still often gets reminded that she’s not from here, though it’s less obvious because the residents of the trailer park are used to people coming and going more than Suburbians, and also because she at least was here for ’86.

Now I think about it, it’s bothering me more and more.

I’ve always felt like I’m missing something - it’s often clear mom and Mike are talking around me - but I always just assumed it’s them being weird about Mike’s degree. That’s the one thing dad brings up sometimes when it’s about Mike, right before mom sends him a warning glare with pointed eyes at me. I don’t know - I get dad wanted us to do something practical, or at least, Mike, because dad has plenty of opinions on Nancy’s career as well. But he’s from a previous time, and honestly why Nancy wants to work so bad, I don’t understand.

Anyway, this took a turn.

I really keep getting carried away with these things.

The people are still there, but they seemed to have moved on conversationally, and it’s about time I head home anyway. I’m just going to say goodbye to Daniel and get going so I’m back in time for dinner.

Love, Holly

[lonesome-witching]

Mine

Another anonymous prompt finally written. I should be ashamed of myself. This one has been waiting for me since the 29th of June!!! I am so sorry.

Do you have any prompts yourself? Or do you want to dive into what I wrote before? You can read my previous prompts or send me some new ones.

Nancy wasn’t a jealous person. She had never been a jealous person. She hadn’t been jealous when Tammy Thompson leaned against Steve’s side laughing at one of his jokes back in the day. She hadn’t been jealous when Jonathan told her about a girl that asked for his number when he was in California, even if she wasn’t so sure he wasn’t lying about that just to make her mad. She hadn’t been jealous when Mike got his way, and she had to take the trash out.

But despite all of that, despite the fact that she wasn’t a jealous person, she could feel her blood boiling right now.

It was stupid. She knew it was stupid. Robin didn’t owe her anything. Even if she was the one to invite her to this party. Not that it was a real party. It was the entire marching band and some special guests, like Steve Harrington and Nancy Wheeler who Robin invited and a Chrissy Cunningham who must have been invited by someone.

Yet it bothered her that Vickie was standing so close to Robin. She was eyeing her up as if Robin was a piece of meat and she was hungry. She was laughing with something Robin said, just like Tammy Thompson had laughed. It was obvious she was trying something, and Nancy didn’t like it.

She wished she had brought her gun. Not that she would shoot Vickie in the middle of a crowded room. But she might have been able to threaten a little. Push the nozzle into Vickie’s flesh and forcing her to step away from Robin. Nancy would lie if she said it wouldn’t give her some satisfaction. But she didn’t bring her gun, it was stored in the glove compartment of her car that was parked just too far away.

Frankly, it shouldn’t bother her. Robin was allowed to talk to whoever she wanted to. But Steve had slipped and now Nancy knew that Robin had a crush on Vickie. Or used to have a crush on Vickie. Something along those lines. And it was frustrating. Even if Robin hadn’t made Nancy any promises. They weren’t together. Robin didn’t even know that Nancy lay awake at night, screaming into her pillow. Robin couldn’t know because Nancy hadn’t told anyway. She’d even been hesitant to trust her diary with the confidential information.

And now she was first to watch this band freak flirt with her girl. Not really her girl, but still. Vickie didn’t walk through hell and back with Robin. Vickie didn’t take care of Robin’s wounds, bandaging her up. Vickie didn’t hold Robin through those first few terrible nights, when neither of them could sleep with those pesky nightmares. Vickie didn’t know Robin the same way Nancy did.

Which is why, gun or not, Nancy had to walk over there. “Hi, Robin.” She leaned against Robin’s arm and saw the hint of a blush on Robin’s cheeks.

“Hi, Nance.”

“I haven’t seen you all night. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten all about me.”

“No.” Robin shook her head, looking into her empty red cup. Nancy was fairly convinced it had never been full.

“And you are?” Nancy turned towards Vickie. Her eyes must have been filled with disdain.

“Vickie, nice to meet you. I’ve heard all about you from Robin.” Vickie held out her hand. Nancy didn’t take it.

“I haven’t heard much about you.”

“Oh.” Vickie dropped her hand.

“Robin, I’m hungry. Do you think we could go get something to eat?”

“Oh, yeah, sure.” 

“Good, I’m starving. Bye, Valerie.” Nancy grabbed Robin’s wrist with a confidence she didn’t truly possess and starting walking to the exit.

“It’s Vickie, actually,” the red head called after them. But Nancy wasn’t paying any attention anymore. Not when she could feel Robin’s heartbeat racing under her fingertips.

[90smaximoff]

i love your work so so much!

could I maybe request something for Yelena please?

maybe like Yelena finding out that reader has a voice kink and loves her voice. Cut to Yelena degrading her about it and whispering in her ear? Maybe thigh riding too (beefy Yelena supremacy!)

i know what you want

author’s note: thank you so much!! hope you like it, i got a little carried away but… you know 💕🫠 (beefy yelena supremacy!!)

words: 1.1k

warnings: voice kink, thigh riding, degradation, pet names (baby, malyshka - babygirl), teasing, yelena being hot, kinda size kink? idk, spanking (just one), bad titles because i’m terrible at that. sorry for mistakes i was really sleepy when i wrote this (маленькая шлюха means “little whore” according to google translate because i obviously don’t know a thing about russian.)

“Good morning, baby.” You opened your eyes and heard Yelena’s raspy voice from behind you.

Immediately a smile come across your face and you turned around on the bed to face her. Your girlfriend had a sleepy expression and a messy morning hair. She looked so cute that you feel like there’s a million of butterflies in your stomach, in the good way. You give her a peck on the lips and she puts her hand on your waist, under your t-shirt - that actually belonged to her - innocently.

“What we have for today?” She asks looking at your lips. Her voice was low, raspy and thick, her accent extra strong since she just woke up. You think of how much you loves her hot voice, loves to hearing her giggling, loves when she whispered in your hear, loves when she moans, loves when she calls you her good girl and even more when she calls you her slut.

“Absolutely nothing, we have the day totally free.” you answer her, with obvious second intentions. Yelena smiled wider at that. Since she got the vacation you both needed - a week ago - it was a diary relief not having to pursue and fight criminals all fucking day.

“Good. Then we can sleep how much we want, uh?” Your smile died after what she said, you wondered if she really not get what you just said or if she was just pretending to tease you, in any of these scenarios, you decided to push further.

“You want to sleep now baby?” You pout.

“Yes, why? Want to do something else, malyshka?” Hearing her calling you babygirl in her mother language almost made your eyes rolled back in your head, hearing Yelena talking russian always made you needy for her, especially now. She didn’t wait for you to reply, seeing your reaction to her question was enough for her to know what to do. “I know what you want, come here.”

She smashed her lips against yours, tightening her hold on your waist, pulling you on top of her as deepening the kiss, both of you seems to be needing each other like a couple that haven’t seen each other in months, even though you just sleep in the same bed all night.

She raised her body on the bed, you still on top of her as she sits with you on her lap. Yelena did not have a single trouble doing this, her schedule as black widow definitely have made her hella strong, she works out every day - something you really love to see - and loves to brag about her muscles, for you or anyone that wants to listen to her. She loves to carry you around too, showing you and herself how stronger she is than you, even if your height difference isn’t that big.

You passed your arms though her shoulders, sliding your tongue onto her mouth, making the kiss more hungry and passionate at every second, she kisses you like her life depends on it, but still haven’t made a single move to take off your t-shirt or sliding her hands under your panties.

Feeling needy, you started to grind on her thigh, trying to get some pressure on your clit, that was begging to be touched by now, the heavy breath of Yelena and the way that she kissing you making you dripping wet on her clothed thigh. Suddenly, when you were getting closer to start to beg her to make you cum, she breaks the kiss.

“I know what you want…” She whispered with her deep voice against your lips. “But i won’t give it to you. If you want to cum so bad, ride my fucking thigh and make yourself cum.”

You moan at that and didn’t wasted time on grinding her thigh faster, desperately wanting to cum. Yelena’s raspy voice, her warm strong hands on your waist, her heavy breaths and the teasing phrase had made you a whimpering mess, wanting nothing more to cum in your panties and on your girlfriend’s muscular leg.

“Fuck, look at you, what a little whore.” Yelena always talked slower when she was horny, her tone get more rough, especially when she wanting to get you horny. “Damn, baby, you’re soaking my fucking pants, what got you so desperate, uh?” You barely could look into her eyes as she talked to you, arching your back, every word with that damn russian accent making you see stars, riding her even faster, moaning loud and shamelessly, wanting your girlfriend to know how good you feel.

“It was my voice, doesn’t it?” She grabbed your jaw with one hand, forcing you to look at her. You shake your head yes the best you could with her fingers holding your jaw in place. Yelena lets out a laugh by that, bringing your head closer, starting to roughly kiss your neck and whispering in your ear. “Sluts like you get wet so easily, uh? Just by the tone of my fucking voice you’re already humping my leg like a bitch in heat.”

You feel really ashamed for one second, knowing that now Yelena knows the effects that her voice causes to you, but the true is that you do the same with her, Yelena gets crazy hearing you moan, hearing you laugh, hearing you beg. You got the same effect on her. And right now, hearing you moan and whimper for her like a helpless desperate slut had her struggling to control herself, gripping onto your waist and biting on your neck to the point to leave marks to stop herself to thrown you at bed and use you till you begged her to stop, since she was stronger and bigger enough than you to do that.

“Fuck, i’m gonna cum, Lena!” You said between moans, whispers and heavy breaths after some minutes, her hands already left your jaw making you free to moan and arch your back as much as you want, Yelena looked at you mesmerized. She could feel your body starting to convulsed softly on top of her, your arms on her shoulders trembling and holding tight on it, your eyes closing and you riding her fast, chasing your orgasm.

“That’s it, cum for me, маленькая шлюха, cum for me like the desperate little thing that you are.” She instructs you, giving a slap to your ass hearing the delicious sound it makes, watching as you come undone on her thigh, soaking your panties and her pants, moaning and shaking in her strong arms.

[gffa]

I AM IN REAL FUCKING TEARS ABOUT THIS COMIC I KNEW IT WAS GOING TO BE GOOD BECAUSE DARTH VADER’S DIARY IS ALREADY A HELL OF A PREMISE NOTHING MAKES ME HAPPIER THAN MAKING FUN OF THE TERRIBLE PERSON THAT DARTH VADER IS AND WHEN IT STARTS OUT WITH “I was summoned to his quarters earlier to remove a corpse and found it under, y’know, some ‘magazines’.” I KNEW I WAS IN FOR A RIDE. AND BOY WAS I. “He’ll never know.  His place is such a mess, he’ll think he just misplaced it or something.” I’M CRYING, ANAKIN STILL HAS THE JUNKIEST ROOM NO MATTER IF HE’S LIVING IN THE JEDI TEMPLE OR ON THE DEATH STAR, PERFECT CHARACTERIZATION

“Got a new helmet today!  A better fit than the last, and I don’t get so hot and sweaty.” IF YOU ASKED ME TO WRITE ANAKIN SKYWALKER’S DIARY AS DARTH VADER I COULD NOT HAVE WRITTEN A FUNNIER LINE THAN JONATHAN ADAMS HAS WRITTEN “HE MISSPELLED NIGHTMARE” PLEASE, HAVE MERCY ON ME, I’M ACTUALLY CRYING RIGHT NOW AND THEN THE SWERVING BETWEEN INSIGHTFUL COMMENTARY ABOUT LUKE BUT THEN ALSO “HOW DO I TELL HIM I’M HIS FATHER?  ‘HEY, YOUR MOM AND I USED TO DATE.”?” ANAKIN.  ANAKIN, PLEASE.

“GROWING UP WITHOUT A FATHER OF MY OWN, I CAN’T BE EXPECTED TO KNOW HOW ONE WOULD ACT.  I’M NOT THAT WORRIED; I TURNED OUT FINE.” ANAKIN. “IF HE REJECTS ME, I DON’T KNOW.  I’M NOT GOOD WITH REJECTION, I MAY HAVE TO KILL HIM.” WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS, ANAKIN. I MEAN, I KNOW WHY, BUT.  WHY. “MY TENDENCIES ARE ALWAYS TOWARDS PESSIMISM.  IT’S AMAZING I’VE GOTTEN SO FAR IN LIFE.” HELP, THAT IS 100000% AN ANAKIN SKYWALKER THING TO SAY. AND THEN THE DRAWINGS IN HIS DIARY, CASUAL REMINDER ANAKIN SKYWALKER TOTALLY WAS AN ARTIST I’LL DIE ON THAT HILL, AND OF COURSE VADER’S DOODLES ARE... THAT. “SURE, THEY DIDN’T HAVE A PARTY FOR ME LAST YEAR, OR THE YEAR BEFORE.  BUT THEN ALL OF THOSE STORMTROOPERS ARE DEAD NOW, SO EACH YEAR BRINGS NEW HOPE.” IF ANYONE TRIES TO SAY ANAKIN SKYWALKER IS NOT THE FUNNIEST PERSON YOU’VE EVER MET, YOU ARE WRONG

VADER WALKING THROUGH THE HALLS BEING MAD NOBODY GAVE HIM A BIRTHDAY PARTY JUST STARING AT THEM AND THEN CREEPILY WALKING AWAY TO GO SULK IN HIS BEDROOM “I’M SO DEPRESSED, I JUST WANT TO SLEEP FOREVER.  WELL, MAYBE IT’S A LITTLE THAT I HAVEN’T SLEPT THE PAST THREE DAYS.  JUST A LITTLE.” ANAKIN SKYWALKER, ANAKIN SKYWALKER, ANAKIN SKYWALKER

FACE DOWN ON THE FLOOR VADER YOU CAN PUT HIM ON ROBO STILTS AND YOU CAN PUT A DEATH’S HEAD MASK ON HIM AND YOU CAN CHANGE HIS VOICE AND YOU CAN DEEP FRY HIM IN THE DARK SIDE BUT THAT IS STILL ANAKIN FUCKING SKYWALKER RIGHT THERE HE HASN’T EATEN ANYTHING OTHER THAN CHEESE CURLS IN THE LAST 18 HOURS NOW YOU KNOW OBI-WAN’S PAIN AT TRYING TO GET THIS NERD TO EAT ANYTHING EVEN RESEMBLING A VEGETABLE AND I 100% BELIEVE ANAKIN WOULD FIND A WAY TO STILL EAT NOTHING BUT CHEESE CURLS EVEN WITH THE SUIT HE’S A MECHANICAL GENIUS AND HE’S THE MOST DETERMINED IDIOT YOU’LL EVER KNOW HE WOULD FIND A WAY AND THEN EAT NOTHING BUT CHEETOS, I BELIEVE IN HIM

THE ABSOLUTE CONFUSION ON HIS FACE WHEN SOMEONE SAYS HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO HIM IT IS RAINING ON MY FACE BECAUSE I LAUGHED SO HARD I CRIED GOD I LOVE THIS WEIRD NERD ASSHOLE HE IS THE BEST AND IF HE WOULDN’T KILL ME FOR KNOWING ABOUT IT I WOULD TOTALLY JOIN HIM ON THE CHEESE CURL COVERED FLOOR WHEN HE’S FEELING DOWN

[qqueenofhades]

Ok, unsolicited rant, I’m sorry in advance. I used to love reading when I was a kid, and read frequently and often. I read a lot and I read books that I wouldn’t be able to understand now, like Anna Karenina when I was 12 (I am a native Russian speaker so it’s not that impressive but still) and a lot of Thomas Mann when I was 17-18.

It’s all gone now. I became extremely picky, but also it seems to be harder for me to understand books now? Like I’ve been trying to read “demons”, “Oliver twist”, “Ulysses” - too hard, and I can’t concentrate and in case of demons there are so many ideas and historical tidbits that I have to sit with Wikipedia and a notebook. And yes, as a kid I would have checked certain things and be able to hold a connection in my memory without a notebook (although I’m not sure if I would have done that with demons in particular, I’m bad at Dostoevsky and hated “crime and punishment”). And it doesn’t matter whether I’m reading in Russian or in English. I almost got it with Arundhati Roy’s “the god of small things”, then there was a very upsetting and triggering scene and I had to put it down.

And if I try to get into something nicer and easier my picky side comes out and I just drop books one after the other. Murderbot diaries and the Locked tomb were the only two books series that captivated me in two years.

Anyway I miss that soothing state of being engrossed with a book. And I so rarely get it now! So I wanted to ask, do you maybe have some advice? I saw your book stack and felt both envy and fear, like I both wanted to read and didn’t. Yikes.

And also, I can still read fic and your fics got me through terrible time and soothed me! So thank you!!!

Aha well. I will say that my current monumental book stack is not technically the norm for me, though I do usually have 3-4 books on the hard-working bedside table and read for several hours every night. Said giant book stack was a confluence of factors (picking up a bunch of holds from the library after asking the people for book recommendations and then going to the bookstore yesterday and hilariously telling myself that I would only get one book max). So it's not like I have ginormous amounts of TBR at all times, and in that giant stack, there are likely to be several books that don't grab me, are not particularly interesting, or technically good and well-written but just not engaging with the Brain Gremlins at this particular point in time. So I will put them down and move onto the next one, and this will keep me from being bogged down, because why read if you're not enjoying it/yourself/the book? It's not a punishment or a character-building ordeal. It's supposed to be fun, and if you're reading things that, as noted in your ask, just aren't grabbing you and feel like a chore, then stop! Find something else that makes the Brain Gremlins go ooooh shiny, regardless of what it is. It doesn't have to be Fine Literature.

I also had to get back into the habit of reading for pleasure, and it took me time and effort to do it due to various external circumstances. From about 2015-19, while I was doing my PhD, I had less than no money and absolutely no spare brainpower, so while I did have a few books that I collected along the way, I barely did any reading for pleasure at all (though I did do a frankly alarming amount of writing, including fic writing). Looking back, that seems insane to me, but it was something that had to change step by step, and it wasn't as if I just finished the PhD and went straight back into pleasure reading. I moved back to the US in 2019 and had a part-time job at a bookstore, which was very dangerous for my minimum-wage paycheck, but it did get me back into the habit of looking at books and reading books and being able to take home advanced-reader copies for free and otherwise start exercising that muscle again. I didn't have a library as an option for quite a while because I was living in a tiny town, then COVID hit, then I moved to another tiny town, where there was at least finally a modest public library at my disposal. But it took time.

Now I live in a city with a great public library where I can get almost anything I want, and I went accordingly hog-wild, but if you don't have readily available reading resources, obviously it's hard to get your hands on stuff that you like and will make the brain gremlins go brrrr. There are some public libraries that offer cards/user privileges even to people who don't live in the geographical area, especially if you are a young adult. Check out Books Unbanned by the Brooklyn, Boston, Seattle, and San Diego (US) libraries, which aims to provide access to ebooks and other digital collection items for young adults facing challenges to access, regardless of where they live. You can get a card up to age 18 from San Diego, age 21 in Brooklyn, and up to 26 for Boston/Seattle.

I also now have a little more disposable income, so I can buy books if I want to, though it's true that I also bought books when I couldn't really afford them (shh). But it's still the fact of my access to a good public library that enables me to have stacks on stacks rotating through the bedside table, and I use it constantly, so there's that. I'm of course very glad to hear that you can still read fic and that you have enjoyed my stuff, but I do also feel that you have to read fic AND books/published writing/stuff that's not fic. So the best way to get back into the habit is by practicing, not forcing yourself into stuff that isn't fun or feels like a slog, and finding a place where you can consistently obtain other stuff that's good for sparking joy. That is not the case for everyone, it will impact what you are able to do, and you should not feel like you have to do some kind of "good" reading model, especially since a lot of people seem to think that what you read is directly representative of your intelligence, moral character, or some other important part of you, and it's not. Humans like stories, the end. We like being given stories, fiction or nonfiction, in a format that we can digest and understand, and we always have. It's that simple.

Basically, I feel like reading for pleasure should indeed be fun, I love reading for pleasure and encourage everyone to do more of it, I now am fortunate to be able to do it extensively, and it has taken work of various kinds to get to that point where I can in fact just set myself up with a ginormous stack and dive in. As noted, however, if any of the books currently on hand are boring or just not doing it for me, I will move onto the next one, because the fun thing is that there are always more. So yes. Go forth and read. Good luck.

[onyourhyuck]

LOWLIFE. | L.DH | PART 3

— Prologue: “Fine…I’ll give you another chance…” He warns dangerously as you were already crossing his lines to the point you’ve pissed him off beyond measures. Just about when you were about to make it up to him he smirks at you. “Get on your knees,” he says. “You’re going to clean my shoes.” He chuckles watching your face and adds. “With your mouth.”

— Summary: Where your childhood enemy found your diary one day where you wrote all your dirty thoughts about Lee fucking Haechan.

— Genre: Probably the most filthiest thing I ever wrote. SMUT SMUT SMUT. Slight Dub-con. Everything’s consensual here but uh Haechan’s the biggest red fucking flag. Manipulative Haechan. Y/n is so obsessed. Shoe humping. Inappropriate use of mention shoe. Being called ‘Pet’ or ‘Toy’ multiple times. Dark dark smut. Slight angst(?) but mostly very filthy talk. Haechan is fucking terrible and mean to Y/n. Choking (light). Pet play(?). Cum play. Lots lots overstimulation here. Hair grabbing. Face slapping (very light here.) unprotected sex. Throat fucking (shoe receiving…)

— Notes: Part 3 ( I’m going to write an apology for traumatising my readers )

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

You know you fucked up.

You weren’t expecting things to go south for you today but as per usual life was seemingly always going against you and your will to have a calm and peaceful day, you were planning to actually relax and do something with your life today. You went on a party event with your friend. Technically your friend invited you as a plus one and the word ‘invite’ is used lightly here. It was more like she kidnapped you and forced your to trend the event. It was a birthday party so people were celebrating and what not.

But then at the party your phone was going off and you were so invested and busy in the party with other people that you didn’t realise your screen flashing bright. You picked it up and soon realise In bold letters that you had not only one miss call — but about ten calls from a specific number Lee Donghyuck.

And not only miss calls he sent you spamming texts about asking where you are and why is your phone turned off? He literally had so many questions and it’s not like he cares about where you are. It’s not like those messages your significant other would text you, worrying about you when you’re outside not answering their messages oh god no it’s nothing like that.

Donghyuck was bored thats why he was texting you and calling you like a freaking mad man. He was bored and you know when he’s bored? He takes pleasures in doing those entertaining activities with you which is fucking you till you’re brain dead.

You told him today you can’t make it, in which he reacts poorly by asking you why not. And you tell him you’re at a party which only angers him more now that he now knows you chose a party event over him. He thought that your obsession that you have over him would make you quick on your knees running back to him whenever he calls you like you’re some puppy he has.

He really thought that you’d drop everything down for him. To come see him whenever he demands you to. But he was left with sheer disappointment and anger with you in his body especially on his raging heart now that you clearly made the decision to stay with your friend’s birthday party.

“I’m going to make you regret it y/n.” He said to himself as he sat in the room already planning on how to handle and deal with you later and the things that pop in his head, it could leave someone scarred for years to the point a therapy wouldn’t be helpful. He will make you regret it.

You were left with an unsettling feeling in your stomach actually. You saw him not responding to you because the last thing he said to you was wait till I see you again, and you didn’t reply to him because you were afraid of what’s to come. But even if your heart was feeling heavy with fear your lower body had to disagree quickly.

You were actually, intrigued to know what he was going to do.

But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re fucking terrified. You know very well that when he meets you, you’re going to be a stuttering and scared ball full of anxiety and wrecking havoc that will come undone when he does whatever cruel thing he wishes to do and you’re aware by now the years you dealt with him bullying you; that when he makes his mind up on something. He does it without a question.

When you left the party to go home, you were met with a very angry silhouette running backwards and forwards in front of your house. He must’ve been ringing your door bell, banging on your door or something for the past half and hour, he still hasn’t left however. He was determined to see you for all the wrong reasons too. When you arrive out of your car you approach immediately after.

You swear the minute he spares you a glance you could just see how annoyed he is with you. The audacity of you making him come out of his house, to even see you is enough to make his blood boil. He isn’t one to chase after people, but here he is trying to meet up with you. Even though he wouldn’t do that with anyone else. If it’s you he just finds his body chasing after you and he solemnly hates you for it.

“Donghyuck?” You call out as the boy turning his back around to have a look at you. You wore a very pretty dress actually — it was quite revealing. He didn’t think it was a proper party but it seems like it was the case.

He rolls his tongue against the gripping wall of his cheeks. A habit he does when he’s annoyed. “You sure have some nerve to say my name right now.” He comes forward grabbing your wrist dragging you forward to make you look him in the eyes. You could tell he’s enraged. Angry a lot now more than usual. You somehow crossed his good patience. “After making me wait here. You stood me up.”

Donghyuck’s poor fragile ego couldn’t take that from you. Especially from someone as overally fucked up as you.

You bite your bottom lip watching the furious eyes looking at you like you’re about to regret for making him feel like this, like he was stood up and now he’s humiliated.

“I didn’t stood you up. I only said I can’t make it today.” You groan slightly trying to make sense of the situation that you’re in. But what did you expect? Lee Donghyuck, your now bully and childhood ex best friend to be tolerant and care of your situation?

His eyes widen, did you just talk back to him? He felt like he heard your first words now and somehow he can’t shake the feeling of you being like this to him. “Did you just — back chat to me?” He gasps letting out annoyed deep breaths. This was nothing like you. “Y/n I think you’re forgetting your fucking place here. I have your stupid diary. You wouldn’t want me to expose it to the world would you?”

“I am not your stupid boyfriend,” He would tighten the grip on your wrist he has pulling you forward with each word and syllables he says. “That you can speak back to,” Like he was making an emphasis point that you are walking on very very thin ice that could break any minute if you say and do the wrong thing right now. “Understand?”

You grew quiet watching him play you like this like you’re doing something so terrible that could be a crime. He’s treating you as if you were a child and somehow you didn’t like this. But you grew to realise he’s very much upset and somehow you feel awful for having to deal with him like this.

“Then what are we?” You suddenly say following your own heart instead of your logical head that would tell you to shut up and just obey him so he could leave you alone. But now you’re wondering. What are we? You and Donghyuck have a serious complex relationship.

You’re not lovers and you’re not friends. You used to be very good friends to the point you guys would be inseparable but somehow when he reached a certain age he left you behind and joined another set group of friends that leaves him abandoning you.

Ever since then he’s been picking on your relatively small self esteem. And somehow you grew romantic feelings for him the older he got and the more he starts to bully you. Or maybe you’ve always liked him since you were little and now your feelings only got more intense when you came to terms with them.

When you said those words ‘What are we?’ It only made Donghyuck grow quiet and he somehow grew angrier. He pushed you back a little as he lets out an annoyed laugh that you even asked him this question as if you weren’t allowed to question your relationship status with him. He never once thought of you in a romantic way. He never once saw you as a friend before. Heck, he didn’t even see you as anything else but an obsessed girl who has lustful intentions for him and it was just that.

So why was he so defensive when you asked him this?

“Why are you asking Hm? Did you perhaps mistake our time together as us getting closer?” Donghyuck follows your body moving backwards. The further he approached you so menacingly you feel yourself slipping away from reality. He has this dangerous look in his eyes.

His voice was so cold like the Antarctic Ocean beneath couldn’t compare to how cold and distant he spoke to you. “Did you really think you had a chance to be with me, Y/n? Oh sweet silly Y/n.” He mockingly said in such high pitches it makes your heart skip a beat when his hands found a way to wrap round you and push you against your door flatly with a slam.

“No… I just…”

You pause as you feel a bead sweating down your temple as he was trying to hear what you are going to say but you couldn’t bring yourself to say any words except stuttering singular words that did not form a proper conversational sentence in response, you slowly unlock the door and Donghyuck didn’t waste a time to come inside closing the door shut behind him but his gaze was on you. You could tell he was still very much furious and he wasn’t done with you. He wasn’t done with you at all. You’re bracing yourself for the next moment because now he is reaching for you wrist pinning you around when you were about to go away from his sight. You pushed on the wall dropping your purse and your heels were off your feet but just about barely he let you do anything else.

Donghyuck deeply warns. “You’ve crossed over to my bad side.”

You murmur anxiously. You can’t help but think that you don’t want to be on his bad side. It wasn’t even your intention to do that. “How do I… get on your good side?”

With your shaky eyes watching him by asking a genuine question the hand he’s grabbing your wrist with tightens by the increasing time and so has your heart. Your heart was skipping so hard against you that you could feel it bruising your rib cage by pressing it on your chest. And you knew your heart was racing so badly for the reason being Donghyuck’s eyes were watching you so closely.

Donghyuck’s eyes roll over, sighing.

He decided to be lenient on you since you’re asking so nicely how to get on his good side he wonders what things you would be able to do to make it back on the ‘nicer kinder’ side of him. He wonders. All sorts of taboo stuff you could do.

“Fine…I’ll give you another chance…” He warns dangerously as you were already crossing his lines to the point you’ve pissed him off beyond measures. Just about when you were about to make it up to him he smirks at you. “Get on your knees,” he says. “You’re going to clean my shoes.” He chuckles watching your face and adds. “With your mouth.”

Those words leave his beautiful and sweet pleasing mouth and you were felt into a dilemma between your own consciousness and your self desire to please Donghyuck and you never had this problem before. You somehow couldn’t help but fall for his deep hypnotising and intense stare tells you how serious he was — he was gravely serious with you. And somehow this was a punishment for you at the same time you feel your stomach twisting with arousal for this humiliation he’s place down on you. He saw you going on your knees in that pretty slim fitting dress of yours hugging at every curve your body has. Donghyuck took the time taking in your beautiful presence. You were indeed beautiful tonight.

Somehow it just irks him more knowing you dressed up this pretty for a stupid party, but you couldn’t dress up like this to meet him?

Your face comes closer to his shoe hesitantly moving. Your face moved back and forth as if you were at a tug of war between yourself. You couldn’t make a decision if you should do it or not do it. Donghyuck grew tired of your double game and he pressed his foot closer on your lips.

The shoe was thick and black. Leather. It was shiny and you could just see the way his beautiful long legs were stretching to your face he was starting to become impatient.

“Go on,” He urges you darkly. “Suck on it like you suck on my cock you whore.”

And you did it.

As much as it was embarrassing to put away the mental image of your mouth sucking on the tip of his shoe letting all your wet saliva and drool coating it you occasionally glance up seeing Donghyuck’s expression darken as if he was enjoying this so much you could tell he has an evil intent behind those black eyes of his watching you so intensely suck on the leather shoe. And like that he wraps behind his hands on your hair rounding it in a ponytail so he could watch how clearly your tongue pushes on the surface of the leather tip. Your tongue smoothens the surface and you found yourself moaning around his shoe shape when Donghyuck’s eyebrows tighten putting his foot down on your throat.

The humiliation you feel is so real it shakes you up making you nervous knowing you’re here sucking on your bully’s shoe just so you could get on his good side and he knew this was a punishment for you but he also knows how much you love him being this way which is why, he feels like it’s okay to do this, to see you break down and to see you becoming his little puppet for his all desires. The diary was enough proof he found out to know how fucked you are. And you don’t dare deny it either. Instead you continue to lick his shoe clean not leaving a spot on it that’s not been done and fixed by your reddish tongue. He swore he could see you imagining this on his precious cock that you so worship and crave.

He’s going to have his fun with you now,

“That’s it.” Donghyuck says with long singing trail on his voice. He saw a shiver sent down your back and goosebumps reappear on your skin as you hear him speak to you.

He loves the effect his words have on you. “You’d do anything to get back on my good side won’t you? Because you love how mean I can be to you.” He answered for you. He knows you all too well.

He has you figured out from the moment he read your secret diary. All the filth you dream to do with him. To him. Him to do to you. Everything.

You choke between the leather shoe folds and he suddenly pulls back on your hair that he created a ponytail round his fist. He saw the dirt and the drool going down your chin making you look ten times more pathetic as well as your half eye lidded open on your face shows how much you were enjoying this a lot more than you anticipated, licking and sucking on his shoe. Cleaning it up until there was nothing else.

He gravely denies anything he feels for you, but when he sees you like this he cannot deny it any longer than you are looking desirable. To hurt. To corrupt.

You’re nothing but his toy. His pet to please him. His toy when he wants something to play with.

“Take a look at yourself,” he growls. “Dirty girl. You claim to be so innocent but you’re so wrong for that.” Donghyuck drops your head leaving your long locks along and then staring at you.

You close your mouth into a thin line as he reprimanded you. All the time.

“Be a good pet now and fuck on yourself, on the drool on my shoe.” He demands.

You didn’t even hesitate anymore because you’re just so broken now and in the submission he put you in you have no choice left to deny him and his requests. No matter how morally wrong it is. He wants you to fuck his shoe and you did exactly that when your thighs spread open. Your slim short and fitting dress made this look ten times more appealing to Donghyuck knowing you wore panties underneath. The wetness on the shoe that came from your mouth was warm and when it contacts on your clothed clit it creates a warm moan coming out your lips and Donghyuck stands still watching you jump up and down on his leg.

You’re humping him dry but even so you grew so far wet between your panties quickly and you know this by now. Donghyuck has the special effect on making you wet beyond anything else you’ve experienced he just does anything attractive to your eyes. The way you’re moaning out shamelessly losing your own moral authority. You just didn’t care about anything else but pleasing Donghyuck. To make him forgive you for not choosing him over that stupid party because you know — deep inside he is still upset over that decision you made. He should be your first choice. First priority. First to be on your mind. That’s how it should be to Donghyuck. “You’re nothing but a bitch in heat.” He claims.

You wish you could say no that’s not right. It’s not correct. It’s not the truth.

But you found yourself liking the way he degrades you. And you feel ashamed that you do, because the more he disrespects you the more you find yourself getting turned on.

Your moans were a response he loves seeing and he doesn’t need words he just needs you moaning senselessly until your voice breaks and you lose it all. Maybe that will teach you on not speaking back to him, he thought. He should just make you lose your voice and have you scream his name all night until you start getting the whole point across here that he isn’t a second option.

He’s the only choice you have.

“It feels… so good…!” Your hands rug the fingertips on his jeans that he is wearing. They tightly embrace all his long legs he has and you swear he might be ninety percent legs and the rest would be everything else. You always loved that however, his body proportions were admirable and heavenly to gaze upon from the lower angle you could just see the perfect perching harden bulge in his jeans and your hands squeezing the thighs because of how much pleasure was doing to your body simply dry humping the shoe between your thighs and legs. You love the more he purposely touches the leather tip on your clip and stomps on it you found yourself moaning more.

‘You’re such a masochist’ ,Donghyuck thought.

“May I come..?” You breathlessly ask him as you feel your heart race quicken because of how close you were to becoming undone right there and then. You didn’t want to even ask but you knew you had to. Donghyuck was the one in control and it shows how well you’re starting to get it in your small air brain that he is in control.

He looks at you thinking if he should let you. But then he mockingly tells you, “Go on then. It’s the only thing you’re good at.” He said it so cruelly. The only thing you’re good at?

He saw you as a cum bucket nothing else.

You feel your voice squeak as you let out a wave of orgasm rush thought your body and you were simply creaming your panties so much it would leak out of your panties and get on his leather shoes. It made a mess. Even your flooring was now leaking with your orgasm bodily liquid you produced. He swore he grew harder in his pants knowing you were such a mess now and he hasn’t even fucked you. It’s been you doing the fucking job.

You really are down bad for him and you let him know by acting like this.

He wasn’t done with you. Donghyuck wasn’t done with showing you what happens when you treat him like the way you did today and he’s about to show you why you should not do so exactly. In the future he won’t be as nice as he’s being to you now. If by any chance in the future you would do this again he will do a lot of things without question to you and you won’t be left without much choice. He could really lose it and he’s holding you accountable for it. Right now you feel your face grabbed between his hand and squeezing it he grabs you by your neck later pushing you on the stairs. He spreads your legs and he starts to play his fingers in and out of the remaining cum in your cream pussy.

He darkly taunts. “Look at you enjoying this.” He can’t help but think you love pissing him off with the way your body was reacting. “I bet you wanted to upset me on purpose didn’t you?” He said watching you and you bite your lip shaking your head.

“N-no…” you reply to him quietly. You were so timid right now and the way you can’t believe your body was betraying you like this.

He scoffs not believing you at all. “Don’t lie to me Y/n. It will only get worse for you from here on if you do.”

You murmur. “I did not.”

Donghyuck saw you answer back and he raised an eyebrow finding this awfully amusing. If you didn’t you wouldn’t be enjoying this as much as you are now.

“Look at me.”

He brings his hand forward softly slapping your cheek to make you look at him as he saw you were avoiding to meeting his eyes when he tried to speak to you. The slaps he gave on your cheek were both small and weak but they did leave a stinging sensation on your cheek which surprised you. Somehow you let out an unanticipated moan as he slaps you and it shocks you to know you moaned at it. You really are a masochist.

Donghyuck darkly grins watching you moan as he slapped your face and he hums tauntingly once more. He was so condescending you weren’t sure if he was joking or if he was serious.

You finally look up at him.

“You really are the worst of the worst Y/n. You say I’m the biggest Lowlife.” He trails laughing now as he unbuckled his lower clothing letting the jeans fall to the ankles. He’s about to fuck you on your stairs whether you like it or not is up to your discretion. But it looks like there won’t be a bed today for you or for him. Donghyuck wants to take you right here and now.

The stairs were an absolute disaster to do this activity as you were simply struggling to stay still and up enough to angle your body correctly in the position however Donghyuck shown no care for this other than fucking you completely out. He continues to speak as he pauses when his cock slowly aligned to your pussy that’s letting out the remaining bodily liquid you wet his shoes over with. “But I think you are the biggest lowlife here between me and you.”

To him you were even worse than he is because you’re enjoying this. You’re not stopping him. You’ve not told him to stop and even if you didn’t he would know when to do so. But you never once, asked and questioned the things he does to you. It’s like you are the hidden Lowlife who hides that they actually are. Ironically you’ve been saying Donghyuck is one. When it might be you all alone.

“But don’t you worry,” He says babying you in such a fake and sweet tone that makes your brain melt away. “Your secrets safe with me. Just like your stupid diary will be forever with me.”

You close your eyes at the forging pleasure he is causing your lower body to take in and become his literal usable flashlight. You were a toy that he would use and use and never get tired of because you’re the most unpredictable person he ever met. He’s never expected you to grow into such an innocent face but become such a lustful soul he could ever gaze upon on meeting paths with.

Donghyuck can’t deny that you out of all people he’s glad it’s you that he found the diary from. Because he wouldn’t have been enjoying his time breaking you every single time you and him do this. He blames you for getting him so addicted to hurting you like this and even so, you still have those romantic feelings for him.

It’s starting to rub off on him too.

Ramming into your pussy he didn’t leave a moment where his pace shows a time of stopping or slowing he was just so rough and straightforward with you perhaps because he’s trying to make this seem as a punishable offence from what you’ve done. He hasn’t forgotten what you’re here for. But then again you find yourself losing control and eventually you’re melting under him with the heat growing on your face and your voice was raising up with each octave you have. He made sure to have you screaming his name before he will fill you up.

Or maybe he won’t fill you up today.

Donghyuck’s dark eyes glisten with lust for you and he saw your expressions with the way your eyebrows furrow together and press together and the way your face rests on his nape as he keeps thrusting inside you with his thick cock stretching you wide enough you couldn’t get even on the ground of the stairs. You were sliding off them occasionally and you tried your best to remain seated still for him as you didn’t want your owner to hold you accountable for disobeying him. The least thing you want is to upset Donghyuck again.

And somehow you found yourself viewing him as your owner the more you do this with him.

He groans when he’s super close and he sees you holding right onto him. Donghyuck must’ve lost his mind a little a while ago because when he saw you pressing your forehead on his shoulder spewing out your tears he couldn’t help but press harder finding your tears to be arousing.

He’s getting turned on by your cries now, and somehow Donghyuck felt an overwhelming sense of urgency to finish and check on you. This wasn’t like him to be able to finish quickly just so he could check if you’re okay. But then again you were starting to rub on him with your ridiculous feelings.

He pulls out before he released and then quickly wanks his heavenly cock in front of you to stain your black fitting dress with his white remains. You pull back resting there panting as your eyes were streaming tears down your cheek.

And you could see a soften gaze as he watches you silently. At first you found it awkward when he’s watching you with a softer and slightly kinder expression than before. Usually he didn’t spare you a second glance and he would focus on changing and then he dips away from you the moment he orgasms. But now he isn’t showing signs of leaving and he watches your tears dribbling down your face and on your thighs and dress.

There was something so different about Donghyuck now as he asks you quietly but very firmly showing he was serious.

He stares at you as he spoke. “Do you still love a Lowlife like me?”

And your heart skips a beat as he was questioning your feelings for him.

“Yes.” You faintly reply.

He looks away from you still in disbelief but now his heart was racing away from your answer. How can you still like him? He’s only been so insufferable to you for years now and you’re here still with your feelings remaining the same.

No matter what he does, you’re going to love him.

He scoffs out with conducing laugh. “You’re nothing but entertainment for me you do know that? The only reason I’m keeping you around is for your body.”

You stare at him raising your eyebrows. Even if that may be true you can’t help but think he was feeling something for you few minutes ago. You swear you saw his eyes change and soften when watching you earlier.

Donghyuck saw your silence and he stands up pulling up his jeans and buckling back the belt on. “I don’t expect you to care.” He states. “Because you’re only a whore who would do anything to open their legs for me.”

“But please,” He throughly states as he walks to the door opening it for himself now so he could leave in a matter of time. When he turns to you he looks back at you with more coldness than you could imagine. “If you cross over to my bad side again, I can’t say I warned you.”

“I won’t be as lenient with you as I was today.” He told you and you feel your brain shiver from just imagining what he could do to you. “I’ll show you how much of a Lowlife I can be if you do double cross me again.”

And it’s a promise he will keep.

Leaving you nothing but alone on your stairs alone, fucked out and stained with his load on your pretty dress as he slams the door shut. His words leaving a cold mark on your heart.

‘How much longer can I love a lowlife like him?’ You thought to yourself.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

@onyourhyuck please refer from translating and copyright my work thank you. Reblog this fic and follow me for more if you want more updates it helps a girl out<33

[rose-and-thorn-fanfics]

“The Mysterious Salvatore Brother” (The Vampire Diaries: Season 1) Damon x Plus Size Fem! Reader, Part 1. This fic is a birthday gift for @armyangxls 💗

Y/n had always felt nervous around boys and girls her age. She wanted nothing more than to fit in at Mystic Falls high-school. There was just one problem. Y/n hated to admit it, but it was really hard for her to feel confident when next to her best friend Caroline (who was incredibly popular and always seemed to get the attention of her peers). It was so much easier to sit on the sidelines during cheer practice and focus on her homework or writing her own stories, than starting conversations with other students. It’s not that Y/n wasn’t pretty or smart. She was beautiful both inside and out, and brimming with inspiring ideas. One autumn day, Y/n found herself sitting under a maple tree as Caroline practiced her cheer routine with the other cheerleaders. She sketched in the margins of the essay she was writing a rough draft about.

“What’ve you got there?” a charming voice came from behind Y/n. Y/n leapt up in surprise, dropping her pencil and whirling around. There, standing in front of her was the most handsome man. His hair was dark and swept nicely over his temples, and his eyes were electric blue and seemed to pierce Y/n’s soul with an intent stare.

“I-I’m uh… just drawing…” Y/n said, trying her best not to blush. “You really shouldn’t sneak up on people like th-that.”

“Old habits die hard…” the man said shrugging his shoulders half-heartedly and taking a seat next to her on the bench. “I’m Damon, by the way.” He smirked.

“I’m Y/n,” she said, relaxing a bit. Something in Damon’s aura of confidence made her feel a bit better about talking. “I probably should be writing this paper on the history of Mystic Falls, but to be honest most of the information I got off the internet is just plain boring. I swear, Alaric Saltzman gives us the most tedious assignments.”

Damon leaned in a bit, squinting to see the opening paragraph you’d scribbled on the sheet of paper. “Looks… good, at least, if you’re set on putting your teacher to sleep.” He laughed.

“What choice do I have? It’s not like much happened in this part of Virginia in the mid 1800s.” Y/n sighed, annoyed at Damon’s criticism. “Are you even a student here?”

“No, but my idiot brother is.” Damon gestured vaguely in the direction of Stefan Salvatore, who was standing at the other edge of the field talking to Elena (who was also in your class).

“Ohhhh so you’re a Salvatore.” Y/n said, nodding as if that explained everything.

Damon stared off at the football field, as if contemplating whether or not to say something. Finally, he spoke. “I think I can help you with your assignment. I actually did a similar history paper when I was in high-school. There’s more to Mystic Falls then you’d think.”

“Why do you want to help me?” Y/n said, a bit skeptical.

“Because…” Damon said, leaning in mischievously. “You’re pretty, and honestly? I’m bored.”

“Oh… ok.” Y/n felt her heart skip a beat. “I mean, that’s not a terrible answer, even if it is a bit forward of you…” She considered. “Fine. Meet me at Mystic Grill at seven, ok?”

“Sounds like a plan,” Damon replied.

Y/n looked down at her paper and when she looked up, Damon was gone. ‘That’s weird…’ she thought, a bit uneasy. Y/n groaned, realizing she’d have to make up an excuse for her absence to tell her mom. ‘Well, hopefully I can think of something believable.’

To Be Continued… in Part 2, coming soon!

[14buddy22]

I’ll Spend the Rest of My Life Making It Up To You Series

Part 4! WC: 6.5K

Warnings: Domestic Violence, Engagements/proposals, bruises, scars, cuts, stitches, fractures, broken bones, mention of killing, beating, prison, abuse (physical, verbal, mental, and emotional), heavy angst, marriage, weddings, biting/bite marks, throwing up, rape, blood, mention of Foyet’s stabbings/Haley’s death

A/n: This part Is from the letters. It switches off between Aaron reading them and what the reader is going through. Italicized are the letters. If I missed any warnings... PLEASE LMK

Series Masterlist // Masterlist

Aaron sat at his desk. Afraid to open up the evidence box of letters. Afraid to open up the case file. He didn’t know what to do. All he could think about was how he could let you get away, again. How was the universe treating him like this? Why did terrible things happen to the woman he loved, the woman he’s always been in love with?

Aaron was afraid of a lot. He was afraid of losing you, that’s what made him break off the engagement. Everything he was afraid of, was becoming his reality. As one of the better profilers in the FBI, how did he not notice the signs? He thought he was doing everything to protect you, to keep you safe, but staring at his desk, his thoughts proved him wrong. He could have kept you safe, and that’s his fault.

Aaron slowly took a deep breath. Shaky hands moved towards the file on his desk. When he opened it, he saw you. He saw you at your most vulnerable moments. He saw every single bruise, scar, cut, scratch, stitch, and possible fracture. He saw everything.

He wanted to kill Jake. He didn’t care if he sat in prison. What Jake did to you is something Aaron could never understand. He never understood why his father did it to his mother and him. He still doesn’t understand how someone could ‘be in love’ with someone, yet still, beat them, throw things at them, and be physically, mentally, and emotionally abusive toward someone. It’s just the one thing he couldn’t wrap his mind around.

When he slowly got through all the photos, he didn’t realize the tears that had fallen onto his desk. He was angry. He was upset. His heart hurt knowing that he ended the engagement to protect you, but instead, led you to your abuser.

It’s ironic that where Jake gave you bruises, cuts, and scars, are all the same places where Aaron had kissed and touched you when you two were together. He just prayed that if Jake did lay hands on you tonight, it wouldn’t be your face, where Aaron had held your face in his palms today.

After finally having enough and feeling sick to his stomach looking at what Jake had done to you, and finally having mentally prepped himself for getting ready to read your letters, he closed the file up, moved it over to the side, and then opened the evidence box.

There were a lot of letters. You can bet any money that he was going to read every single word you wrote in every single letter. He wouldn’t leave until he finished. He pulled out the first letter, looking at the date.

6 months after the engagement ended.

Hotchner,

I met someone. He’s funny and kind. He dances on top of tables at the bar, and even though the bouncer keeps telling him he can’t, he does it. He’s got a nice smile. His name’s Jake. He’s run into me a couple of times at the bar within the past month. I think now he’s almost stalking me, lol. I can tell he’s trying to ask for my number, which he’ll get by the way.

I don’t know why I’m writing you this, maybe it’s my way of getting over you. He’s asked about you. He knew that I must have broken up with someone. We talked about you. He wasn’t very fond of you breaking my heart, but I took some of the blame because you don’t deserve to have this man hate you and he doesn’t even know you. I know this letter will never be sent, you’ll never read it, but maybe this is my personal diary. I guess I’ll keep you updated.

With Love, Y/n

Aaron wanted to tear the letter to shreds. You wrote to him about Jake to get over him. He continued to read the next few letters. Luckily they were still in the honeymoon phase. Jake treated you great at the start. He asked for your number, took you out to dinner, didn’t try to kiss you after the first date.

Aaron hated what he was reading, especially knowing what the outcome of this relationship is 10 years later. He hated it so much. If he could have gone back in time, he would’ve told you to run. He would’ve shown up at your apartment to say how sorry he was. He would have done anything to get you back. The nights he spent drinking, working, drowning in his sorrows, wishing he had you back in his life, you were going out with Jake.

It was about 5 letters later, he finally got to the first one, about 7 months in to dating Jake.

Hotchner,

He called me fat today. Could you believe that? I was trying on a dress for a friend’s wedding and he didn’t like the way I looked. He didn’t even try to lie. I mean, seriously. What man does that? I know if it had been you, you would have said wow, you look beautiful. I know it shouldn’t be that big of a deal, but for someone to call their girlfriend fat, it just blows my mind. Even if I’ve gained 5 pounds, I guess I don’t look that good in the dress, that’s fine, but shouldn’t he try to hide it? Instead, he’s pointing out specifically where the dress made me look fat. I guess I’m missing your comments, even if you didn’t mean them, I always believed in them. I felt like the prettiest girl in the world when I was around you, but being with him makes me think I’m not. I know I’m not a model, but it makes you think, ya know?

Aaron kept on reading, intrigued by the verbal, mental, and emotional abuse that was beginning in your relationship. It tore him apart that you didn’t realize it then. He got to the letter he didn’t want to get to. Your wedding day with Jake. He had been dreading this letter. He actually didn’t even know if there would be a letter about your wedding day, but alas, there was, and he was holding it in his hands.

Hotchner, I’m really marrying him. Can you believe it? Well, maybe you can because you’re actually coming. Well, I hope you’re coming. You told me you were when we were having lunch. I’m not marrying you, god, I wish I had. We never got to have that dance that we wanted as we talked about at the wedding that you didn’t even want to go to in the first place. Hopefully, you’ll save a dance for me tonight. I hope Haley doesn’t mind if I steal you away for 1 song to dance to. Well, 2 hours until I get married. I know you’ll never read this, but, I hope you object to the wedding. We can run off, get married, and have 6 little Hotchner babies running around. It’s not fair to Haley because she didn’t do anything, but I think I’d be happier with you than Jake. Until the next letter, Y/n.

When Aaron turned to the next letter, he saw how much longer it was, there was a teardrop stained on it. He was afraid to read it. For once, he wanted to stop. To break his promise to himself that he wouldn’t stop reading until he was done, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t break another promise to you. He knew that the letters in his hand were a continuation from your wedding day because they were all stapled together, and the only date on the entire page was on the front paper, from your wedding day.

I saw the look you gave me today while you were sitting in the pew. I was trying to silently plead with you to stand up and say I object at the wedding. Had you done that, I would have run away with you. I mentioned before that Haley didn’t deserve it, but I saw the way you looked at me when I walked down the aisle. I saw the way your breath hitched when I made eye contact with you. I saw you slightly lean forward when the priest was asking if anyone objected to the marriage. Don’t think I missed it because I didn’t. I wish you would have done something because then I wouldn’t be in the situation that I’m stuck in.

When Jake and I shared our first dance, I wish that would have been you dancing with me. The entire night would have been better if you were the one I married instead of him. When you had walked outside for what I could only think to gather yourself at the end of the first dance, I wanted to follow you right when the song ended, to tell you that everything’s going to be okay, nothing would change between us, but boy, was I wrong. I couldn’t go. He told me I had to stay with him to say goodbye to those who were leaving, to stay for pictures. He had to have known I was going to go after you.

And I wish I did, because as the night ended and I hugged you, it was like I was losing my other half when you walked away. I know we promised each other lunch dates, but after what happened, which I will get to in a second, I’m not sure if there will be lunch dates, and that’s what hurts me. It hurts to know that I might never see you again.

I’m scared. What he did to me tonight, I prayed would never happen to anyone I know. After the stories, Sean told me about your father and your mom. The stories that you told about your father and you. I guess I was so naive to think that would never happen to me. I guess had I fought harder for you, I would have been right. You would have never hurt me the way he did tonight.

It started out with him being mentally, emotionally, and verbally abusive. He started saying that he didn’t like my wedding dress, although I absolutely felt like a princess in it.

Aaron took a moment to pause. He thought you looked absolutely stunning in that dress. It was perfect. You were a real-life princess. How did Jake not see that? If Jake wasn’t interested in you, why even bother to get married to you? He didn’t want to keep reading, but he had too.

He ripped the dress off me and got upset with me because I wasn’t in his favorite type of lingerie. I thought what I had bought was cute. What he likes is practically next to nothing and I didn’t want to feel bare underneath my wedding dress. The hard earned money I spent on my dress, ruined, only for him to rip it off to just get me naked. I wanted to cry right then and there. He was rough, throwing me onto the bed, I hit my head against the wall. He was possessive, dominant. I’m not saying that I wasn’t into that because you know I was, but he didn’t ask for safe words, he didn’t ask what was okay and what was not okay. 

He slapped me, hard. He called me a bitch. Who wants to be called a bitch on their wedding night? He ripped the lingerie off me and yelled at me because it wasn’t what he wanted. Then he got really rough. 

Leaving bite marks above my breasts, on my breasts, my thighs. He thought it was turning me on. I tried tugging him off, but he only got turned on even more. I didn’t want anything more to happen. 

I really didn’t. I tried to push him off before he entered me. I tried, but he just held me down and told me to be quiet. He said, “If I were Aaron, I know you’d keep quiet.”

Aaron threw up. Whatever he had to eat that day all came out into the garbage can. He couldn’t believe what he had just read. He was the reason you were sexually assaulted. Jake was jealous and it was Aaron’s fault to blame. This was Aaron’s fault, there’s no more denying that it wasn’t Aaron’s fault anymore. In Aaron’s eyes, it’s his fault that everything happened to you. As he thought that, he threw up again.

When he finally composed himself together, he picked up the letter again. Going to read the rest of your letter from that awful night.

Sorry for the tear smudge on this. I had to take a break. Crying in the bathroom as I’m writing this. I’m sorry. Anyways, I might as well continue.

When your name came out of his mouth, I knew he was jealous, he was doing this to me like I had done something terrible to him. When I told him that you weren’t into being dominant in bed, he slapped me again.

God, I never want to feel that pain ever again.

I had tears coming down my cheeks. I knew I was going to be raped and I couldn’t do anything about it. I was vulnerable, exposed to him. His father’s a lawyer. His father’s amazing, sweet, and super kind, but his son is polar opposite.

I remember asking Jake if we could stop. I told him I had a headache and that we could have sex right when we woke up in the morning. I begged him, but he just told me no. It was then that he entered me. I told him to stop. I tried to move, but he just kept going. I was frozen. I didn’t want this. I told him to stop. Tears were coming out of my eyes as he bit my. His teeth broke through my skin, I could feel the blood begin to drip down my shoulder.

Even after everything he did, he couldn’t even get me off. He finished inside me, rolled over, and went to bed.

Now it’s 2am and I’m writing this as I’m sitting in the hotel bathroom, trying to collect my thoughts, and figuring out if that really happened. I know it did. I didn’t make this up. I’m staring at the bite marks he left on my shoulder. The bite marks on my breasts, the redness on the one side of my face where he slapped me one time too many.

I’m feeling empty inside. I feel as if I’m worthless. I feel lost. I know I shouldn’t feel this way. I know you never would have made me feel like this. Even when our engagement ended, I never felt this way. What Jake did to me tonight is much worse.

I wish I would have fought harder for our relationship. I wish I would have ran away from the wedding today. I wish I had the strength to push him off of me and leave the hotel room before he assaulted me. All the things I could wish, I can’t go back in time to change it. That’s what scares me.

I just got married to what I thought was someone I loved, but instead, I was treated as a sex doll tonight. I was treated like garbage. I hope that I never feel the way I felt tonight. I’m sure it was just the alcohol that made him act out.

I’m just scared, but I should be allowed to feel that. I wish I had you so I could be in your arms. I could really use a Hotchner hug. Why does it feel like I’ll never be able to really tell you how things are between Jake and I? Like our lunch plans won’t actually work out? I’m afraid to think that way, but after what Jake did, I don’t know if it’s the same man I met at the bar 2 years ago.

I really, really miss you. And, I’m still in love with you.

It was like someone punched Aaron in the gut. He had lost all air he was holding. He wanted to throw up again but didn’t know if he could or if he should. This was like torture. He’d rather get stabbed 9 times again than read through the pain he put you through. This was only 2 years into your relationship with Jake, and there were still 8 years worth of letters to go.

He just wanted you in his arms safely. To help you get a therapist, to talk to someone so you learned to live with your trauma instead of shoving it deep down as he did. He knew all there was to know about trauma and he hated that you knew what trauma was too.

*******

When you pulled into your driveway, you were met by Jake in the garage. You just needed to calm down. You couldn’t make yourself suspicious about what you had been doing. As you grabbed Mason out of the car, you walked into the garage.

It was a weird feeling. Jake almost seemed scared that you had left.

“I thought something had happened to you. I don’t know what I’d do if something were to happen to you or Mason. Hey, there’s my baby boy. Did you have fun with Mommy today?”

It was the little things like that that made you realize that maybe it wasn’t so bad to continue to be in a relationship with Jake. Maybe you overreacted going to Aaron. Jake wrapped you in his arms and kissed your forehead. Over the past 8 years, ever since your wedding, you got used to faking being in love with him.

There were some moments when you did love him. Maybe it was the way that he’d pay for a family’s dinner at a restaurant that you and he ate at, or it was the way he was looking at you now, when he realized that at any given moment, his wife and child can walk out on him.

“I’m sorry I scared you today. Aaron needed me. Jack’s going through so much. Sean hasn’t talked to Aaron. He just needed a friend. Jack just needed a mom figure. I should have told you but I didn’t want to bother you at work. So, I’m sorry.”

You got teary-eyed, you really had to play this up. You had to play it up so much that you almost believed it.

“How’s Jack doing?”

“He misses his mom. I don’t blame him. If God forbid something happens to me, I know Mason would be okay with you, but the trauma of losing a parent when you’re young. I don’t know how Aaron’s doing it. I hope Jack’s going to be okay. Aaron convinced Jack to start seeing the therapist that he had back when it happened and after, Jack finally agreed. So, it’s progress. I’m hoping to check in and take Jack out for a dinner, and spend some time with Mason. He was so good with him today.”

“Whatever Jack needs.”

How was Jake acting like this? Like he said he was going to kill you because he knew you were with Aaron. Maybe he just lost his cool when you told him. Maybe using Jack as a decoy was going to help you get out of your relationship with him. Well, at least an escape. Maybe you were overreacting.

Mason and I are starving, so, what do you say I cook us up something to eat?”

“Honey, you know I’m good with whatever you make.”

It was weird. He was acting like you and he had been in the perfect marriage for the past 10 years. He was playing on the floor with Mason, laughing, and smiling. He had come into the kitchen, walking over to put his hand on your hip and kiss your shoulder.

It made you smile, he did have loving moments, and maybe he had an eye-opening experience with you being gone for the day. Maybe something changed in him. Maybe everything was going to be okay now.

Maybe…just maybe

…..

He hated it. He hated that you endured this pain for 10 years and he couldn’t stand the thought of you going through it tonight. He had to find you, but you promised him you’d be safe, and you always kept your promises.

If you really needed him, you would call. That’s what he was going to tell himself as he was finished with the letter. He kept that letter off to the side, in a different pile. When he reached into the box for the next one, he felt an envelope. As he opened it, he found more photos.

These were the photos you took of yourself in the hotel bathroom on your wedding night. He saw the torn wedding dress in the corner, the lingerie that was no longer on your body. He saw the way your lip was split. He saw the bitemarks on your shoulder. He saw your mascara running down your face. He saw the bruises forming, the red marks of his handprint on your face.

Rage consumed Aaron’s body. If he wasn’t an FBI agent, if he wasn’t a father to a little boy who had already lost his mom, he would’ve been a vigilante and killed Jake. Jake didn’t deserve you. You were an angel, yet you’d been through Hell.

Aaron put the letter and the photos back inside the envelope and then moved on to the next letters. The letters of your abuse were tearing him apart. He was sick to his stomach, literally. Just when he thought he had emptied his stomach contents, there was more. It wouldn’t stop.

Reading how he would hit you if you didn’t have his meal on the table when he came home, degrading you while you were getting ready for work, getting ready for a night out with him, degrading you during sex. The most intimate moment with someone and he was making you feel bad about yourself.

Aaron was in complete awe of you. How could someone who was in an abusive relationship be so composed? How could you get up for work every single day and go teach little kids? How could you be so good at hiding how what was going on in your life?

Then he got to a letter he didn’t think he could dread, but he had. The past few letters, you had been counting down until you were meeting with him for your first lunch date. Almost seeing him an entire year after your wedding, both of you just being so busy. He was dreading it, but he knew he had to read the letter.

Wow, you looked amazing today. Oh my gosh, I can’t believe I just wrote that when I’m a married woman. Well, I’m still in love with you. I don’t think I’ll ever get over you. I need to. I’m a married woman, you’re engaged to Haley. I can’t believe it. I hope she sees what an amazing man you are. The BAU seems to be going well for you. I’m glad. You were always great at putting others first before yourself. That’s what I admired about you from the start. You would take care of Sean before you took care of yourself. That was a small thing that hooked me from the start. But, I can’t believe I finally got to go out to lunch with you. It was amazing. I had such a great time from hearing about your engagement to how wedding prep is going. While I loved hearing about you, I wish you would have seen the way my heart was slowly breaking. I wish you would have seen the way I was nervously tapping my feet on the ground. I wish you would have seen the bruise that was forming on my ribs and how much pain I was in. He pushed me down the stairs today, Aaron. He found out I was having lunch with you and he got so upset. When I asked him why he did it, he said that I tripped. I KNOW I did not trip down the stairs, Aaron. He purposely pushed me because he was angry with me. He probably would have done a lot worse had I not left when I did and explained that we were in a public setting, having lunch at the local diner where his office was across the street. Gosh, it sounds terrible, but I wish you would have noticed what was going on with me and asked me. It’s not your fault. It’s my fault I didn’t speak up. I just don’t think I’ll ever be able to speak up myself, because… what if I’m crazy? He will lose it even more and hurt me even more than he has if he found out I told anyone what he does to me, especially if I told you. It was good to see your smile. I had this image of you from my wedding day and that’s not the Aaron Hotchner I wanted to recognize. I’m glad I got to see you today. It’ll be a memory and moment that helps me get through everything until our next lunch date. I hope it’s soon. Maybe the abuse from Jake will stop. I don’t know. Maybe you’ll recognize that I am being abused by Jake. You’re the world’s best profiler but you couldn’t profile me. Maybe I should play poker. You always said I was good at the game when we used to play, especially strip poker because I’d always have my clothes still on and you’d be down to your boxers before I even began to lose an article of clothing. (That’s because I felt bad and let you win). But, you always told me that I didn’t have a good enough poker face, but guess what Aaron? We were playing a game of poker today and you couldn’t even tell the cards I was trying to play tonight. My poker face was too good for you to see that I was broken, battered, and hurting. You saw a friend who you hadn’t seen since her wedding. You saw the woman you used to be engaged to now married to another man. Maybe you saw me smile and hug you right away so you convinced yourself that I had moved on, that I was okay without you. Damn it, Aaron, I got excited to hug you because I just wanted to feel loved for once since my wedding. I just wanted to be held by you because you brought me a little bit of safety and comfort. When you touched me, I couldn’t flinch because I knew you would have never done what he is doing to me. When you hugged me goodbye after our lunch, I didn’t want to let go right away because I didn’t want my time to be over with you. I just wanted to hold onto something good in my life for just a few more seconds, before I had to return to this hell. I’m hoping I get your wedding invitation soon, I owe you a dance since we never got to dance at my wedding.

Aaron remembered that day. He spent so much of that time talking about himself, you had rarely talked about you. He just remembers thinking about how beautiful you had looked. How you were smiling and laughing at whatever he was saying. You were intrigued at whatever he was talking about.

Thinking back to that lunch date and now reading the letter, he feels like a complete asshole. Why didn’t he just think to ask more about Jake? Maybe you were right. You knew he didn’t like Jake. You knew you weren’t going to talk about Jake with Aaron.

Rereading the letter again, he does remember the way your legs were bouncing under the table, he just thought you were really excited. He did remember the way you kept looking over his shoulder, like you were waiting for someone. He remembered the way you grabbed your rib cage and held it for a few seconds after laughing.

Then he remembered when you and he used to play strip poker, how he would always lose to you. He would be wanting to get you naked, yet he was always the one naked before you were. The more he would play poker with you though, he began to notice your tells, but you were right, you had perfected the poker face because he couldn’t pick up on the cards you were playing with at your lunch date.

He was an awful profiler. This was only the first lunch date you wrote about. How many other lunch dates did he miss the signs of a domestic violence victim that were right in front of him? Maybe he was trying to convince himself that you had moved on and that he had to be okay. He regrets it now. He regrets everything. Had he not broken up your engagement, you and he would be together, you wouldn’t have met Jake and he wouldn’t have married Haley. Haley was murdered because of his job. Two people he loved and both of them dealt with pain and suffering. Haley even lost her life because of it.

All because of him and his actions.

Aaron knew he couldn’t continue. He needed to get some food in him. He needed to go for a walk. He needed to cry. He didn’t know. He was hurting. He wanted to see you. He wanted to hold you in his arms again and he wanted to cry with you. He wanted to apologize to you.

As he stood up from his desk, he kept the letter folded up and placed it in his pocket. He grabbed the box of letters and grabbed his keys. He needed something to eat, but he was craving to read what you were going to write about next. He needed to get to the letter you wrote about your last lunch date together. He needed to know what lead up to it being the last one.

So, the only logical thing for him to do was to get in his car with your letters and drive to the diner that you two always met at. He sat in the booth that you two always sat at. He remembers asking you why you liked the booth and you said that you were far away enough from the front door but not super close to the kitchen. You liked being in the middle of everything, but you also liked to see everyone who was around you. Being in the middle, you could see everyone.

As he sat down at the booth, he ordered your favorite meal, not even his. He ordered what you would have gotten with him. Maybe he just needed to feel close to you. He didn’t know, but whatever it was, he was lost in rereading your first lunch date letter when the waitress asked him what he wanted and he just said your order, not realizing it until they brought it out to him.

Before he picked up the next letter, he was interrupted with a phone call from Jack. Jack was the best thing to happen to him. He was such a great kid. With everything he’s been through at a young age, Aaron was so proud of him.

******

“Mason’s asleep. Would you like to watch a movie?”

“I’m going out of town. Business trip. I’ll be out for two weeks.”

“Oh-okay. Um, when are you leaving?

“My flight leaves in two hours. Which is why, now that he’s asleep, I can have you all to myself.”

As you made your way over to kiss him, you felt him push you up against the wall. Full body covering yours. You didn’t realize your head hit the wall hard enough to put a dent in the wall.

When he grabbed your face, he said, “Do you really think I’m that dumb? Do you really think I didn’t know you went to see Aaron to see him and not his son? Your tracking device on the car was going crazy. You were at his place of work. You know what that means, huh?”

He slapped you and pushed you to the ground. As you yelped, he towered over you. You were scared. You didn’t know what was going to happen. Mason was upstairs sleeping, but you couldn’t protect him if something happened to you. You just needed to get Jake out of the house and then you were running away.

“Aaron has been a problem since our wedding. Do you remember that? Aaron’s name only ever seems to be the problem.”

“Jake. I promise nothing has happened between Aaron and me ever since Aaron and I were engaged. I can’t even look at him without wanting to yell at him. He broke my heart, but you. You saved me.”

God. You hated this. You hated lying to Jake but you were trying to keep yourself alive just until he was leaving.

“No. I’m done with this. I’m done with you running to him. No more lunch dates, ever. No more going to see Jack. No more helping Aaron. No more talking to Sean or anyone else that Aaron knows. From now on, it’s only you or I. I will hire someone to shop for us. I will get the dry cleaning if I have to. You’ll go to work, drop Mason off at daycare, and come home. That’s only where you’re allowed to go. I’ll know if you go somewhere and when I find out, I’ll be worse than I am now. I’ll really kill you.”

“Jake, please.”

“Shut up, bitch!”

Jake hit you harder. A punch that felt like you were seeing stars. You don’t know if you were knocked out, but you just closed your eyes and kept them closed, trying to fight off what else was coming your way from him.

You know you were bleeding, you could feel it coming down your head. You know you were crying. You know he was only getting madder. That’s why you were thankful that he got a phone call and that his friend was there to pick him up from their flight.

Leaving you behind, on the kitchen floor of your home, you slowly stood up, watching him get in his coworker’s car and watching the car take off down the street, you broke down crying. You needed to leave him. You had two weeks away from him. That was two weeks to get everything you and Mason needed out of the house and start a new life. You were doing it. You had finally had enough.

You grabbed your phone from the counter and called Aaron. Praying he would pick up as you were still trying to stop the bleeding from your head.

“Aaron, please. Please. Please pick up. Please, I need you right now. Please.”

You were saying a silent prayer, just waiting for him to answer.

“Hel-”

“Aaron, I need you to get Mason and I. Please. I need you, please. My address is still the same. Please, come fast.”

*****

He couldn’t even begin to read the next letter, just trying to make sure he was in the clear of throwing up before starting again. Then he got a phone call from you. It sounded like you were crying. He needed to get to you and he needed to get to you fast.

He threw money on the counter and placed the letter in the box, sprinting to his car, throwing the box in the back, and putting on his lights and sirens. He broke every law to make sure he got to you. When he pulled into your driveway, he got out of his car, and ran up to the door. He knocked on it. Probably, ore times than he needed to and probably way louder than you would have wanted him to.

When you opened the door, he saw your face. You watched the way he went from concerned to filled with rage quickly. He grabbed his gun and stepped inside your house, not caring if he had an invite in. From the looks of you, he had probable cause.

“Aaron. Put that away. He’s gone. He left. His friend picked them up, he’s going on a business trip. Aar-”

You broke down crying. All he could do was just grab your body and pull you into his. He was trying to take in everything that had happened to you within the very few hours you two had been apart. He was trying to see more cuts, bruises, and marks on you that he hadn’t seen before.

He saw the blood. He saw the busted lip. He saw the handprint on your face. He saw the way your body shook so hard in his arms. It killed him. Jake did this to you. Aaron wanted to console you for as long as he could, until you hadn’t mentioned anything about Mason.

“Where’s Mason, y/n? Where is he? Is he okay?”

“He’s. He’s upstairs. He’s sleeping.”

You began to control your breathing, just so you could stand up and begin to move upstairs toward Mason’s room. Aaron knew he had to get you to a hospital. This had to be documented. You were going to get full custody of Mason, he’ll make sure of it. But Jake had to be put in jail for what he did.

“I’m going to get you more ice and pack a diaper bag for Mason. I’m going to take you to the hospital. You need to get stiched and we’re going to file a police report. We’re going to do it together.”

“Aaron, no. It’s fine.”

“No, I’m not letting you tell me it’s fine when you call me to get you and Mason. I’m not going to let this go when you’ve just been beaten. You wanted help, please just let me help you. It’s going to be scary, but it won’t be any scarier than the hell you’ve been put through. So, please. I’m asking that you go get Mason. Pack a bag for him. I’ll get all his bottles. Grab some pajamas for yourself and some clothes for a couple of days. Some clothes for Mason. Once we’re done at the hospital you’re coming back to my apartment. I have an extra bedroom. If needed, I’ll let Jack sleep with me and you can put Mason in Jack’s room. I’m firm on this. Let me take care of you. Let me help you.”

You just wiped your tears and nodded at Aaron, which he nodded back, trying to hold his tears back from seeing you so upset. So broken. So vulnerable.

Aaron was right. You needed help. This was it. If Jake comes home tomorrow and apologizes, fine. But you cannot go back to him because you’ll be in that cycle that you’ve been in for the past 10 years. But how many times of that cycle do you have to keep repeating before enough is enough?

Aaron’s helping you break that cycle. That cycle of abuse is ending tonight.

Next Part

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