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onsunnyside · 2 years

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Dad’s best friend!Curtis

Your family usually joins him at his hunting lodge every year but due to your parents divorcing you haven’t been there for quite a few years. Now that you’re getting through college you decide you deserve a break so when dad asks if you wanna join this year?

You accept and after you arrive, Curtis isn’t quite sure he wants you to leave

AHH HERE HE IS !!

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 | soft!dark dad’s best friend!Curtis Everett x reader

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 | smut - minors dni, age gap, soft dark, manipulation, coercion, daddy kink, oral (f), p*ssy slapping, fingering (f), size difference, dirty talk, exhibitionism: almost caught/not afraid to get caught, spitting, gagging (with panties), size kink, degradation, dumbification, hints of sadistic!Curtis. mentioned: thigh riding.

𝗪/𝗖 | 1033

🍆 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐒𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐲… 𝐃𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐲? 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Your name is called from down the hall, through the walls you can hear your father’s footsteps as he searches for you. Shame sinks deep, anchoring you to the floor, and pinning you to the eager mouth of a man almost twice your age.

The both of you are tucked into a closet, the only light provided by the small lightbulb. You’re pressed into the wall, and fallen hangers and coats litter the floor from Curtis’ manhandling—he was so much bigger and stronger than you, it wasn’t hard for him to overpower you.

You didn’t put up much of a fight either, you wanted him too.

Your wet cotton panties are stuffed into your mouth, silencing your whimpers. His fingers are pressed to the hilt, his rough beard rubbing your petals as he sucks on your clit, flicking his tongue against the nub.

Your knee is hooked around his broad shoulder keeping him close as he devours you, groaning into your swollen folds, already sensitive from his previous teasing.

“Feels good, dumb baby?” Curtis asks against you, pulling back to spit messily on your slit, watching it drip down to your wet hole. He adds a third finger, stretching you wide as he swoops down to lick firmly up your cunt. “I know my jeans were so rough on your pretty pussy—daddy’s so sorry.”

You know he isn’t, you know he took great pride in being mean and hurting you. That was his whole attitude, a rugged man with a sadistic side, hell, he’s even joked about locking you in the basement so you’d never leave.

Looking down at your wrists tied with his belt, you fear he wasn’t completely joking.

Another shout of your name has you jumping, accidentally grinding against Curtis’ thick beard, and you moan softly, squeezing your eyes shut.

“Where the hell—” Your father’s voice sounds uncomfortably close, “Curtis!”

Your hands fist his beanie as your hips start moving slowly, riding his thick fingers and his merciless mouth, soaking him with your juices.

“Yeah?”

Your heart stops and you stare down at him in terror, trying and failing to shove him away when a shadow appears under the door.

“Have you seen my daughter?”

Curtis’ dark blue eyes flicker up, twinkling with mischief as he pulls out his fingers, and traces them along your cunt, spreading your cream. “No, not since breakfast.” He pulls back and lands a swift slap on your core, marvelling in your sharp gasp. He repeats the action again, and again, getting harder and louder.

Your legs flail when the doorknob rattles, “what are you doing in there with the door locked?”

“Something you don’t wanna know.” Curtis murmurs, diving forward to mouth messily at your pussy, guttural groans sending vibrations through your body. His warmth soothes the burn from the slaps, “taste so fucking sweet, baby, like you were made for me. Such a little slut, those college boys don’t give it to you good, huh?”

“What was that?”

“Did you check the backyard? She was out there yesterday.” His tongue collects your slick, only to spit it onto you again while heat combs over your skin and your stomach tightens.

“Yeah, I checked everywhere. I hope she didn’t go outside, it’s dangerous all the way out here…” His voice fades away as Curtis licks you again, all sounds going muffled from the pleasure.

He reaches up to pluck your panties from your mouth, he tucks them into his pocket and trails down your body. His fingertips trace along your chest, groping your breasts over your shirt. He pinches your nipples through the thin fabric, “you hear that, dumb baby? Even your daddy says it’s dangerous, especially for sweet little girls like you. I told you it’s safer here with me.”

“Curtis—I can’t stay.” You had a whole life, a career in the making and friends back in the city. You couldn’t leave it all, abandon it for him of all people.

“Yes, you can. Don’t you want to stay here with me?” He reaches for the lock, holding it between his thumb and forefinger before looking at you once more. “I’ll treat you so good, baby, I promise. You’ll never have to worry about a thing, daddy will take care of everything.”

Your eyes flicker from the lock to him, still on his knees with your arousal around his pink lips and traces of it in his beard, he sinks forward to gently lap at your cunt. Blinking up at you with his thick lashes, softly suckling at your clit, and even dipping into your hole with his tongue.

“Don’t be stupid and make me do this, baby, it’d ruin everything.” Is what he says, but you know he gets off on this, the sick thrill, the cruel taunting. “Do you wanna get caught and never speak to your father again? Do you wanna make him hate his best friend, and be ashamed of his whore daughter?”

You start crying, unable to do anything with your bound wrists and weak legs. His suckles get rougher, torturing your button with a hard suction, lewd noises filling the small closet with his moans. You don’t even notice when he prods at your hole again, sliding in deep with three long fingers.

Your father is still rambling about your disappearance, totally unaware of his closest friend between your thighs. Curtis barely twists the lock, and the faint click snaps you out of that trance.

“I-I’ll stay…” you choke out, tasting the bitterness of your tears. “Please don’t, please, daddy.”

The door locks again and Curtis’ hand returns to your hips, pressing you against the wall as he kisses along your thighs. The gentle gesture only makes you more embarrassed, with your soaked pussy inches from his face and your father on the other side of the door—he’s managed to trap you here in his hunting lodge.

“I’ll go do another round outside the lodge, she might’ve wandered too far or something. God, I hope she’s safe.”

“She is.” Curtis promises with a smirk, licking his lips as you tremble above him, so broken already and it’s only the beginning, “She’s very safe, no need to worry.”

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palettesofrenaissance · 2 months

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Hey. I got a short drabble idea for your Wonka story, if you'll have it. Since you're trying to get into more dark stuff.

The idea is this: Wonka thinks he has Sapphire and Ruby trapped in his "wonderland", but by some freak accident, they find a way to escape and he. is. pissed.

✎ᝰ ── 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐨! I'm thoroughly relieved to be finished with this and excited to be posting this. this is my first dark!fic. don't expect this to be like my previous stories. this is the first thing I've written that I had fun with. it's the first serious thing I've done since struggling with writer's block. this prompt fill is the one after after the intro fic (this is what I've been up to lately. join me!)

Permanent Marker · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · · INTRO/AU CONCEPT

Location Services: OFF · · · · · · · · · · · · · THIS PROMPT

𝐒𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: Dark!AU, Future Fic, Canon Compliant. Prompt-driven story

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: The saying goes: “Never, ever accept a gift from a fae. And never, ever verbally say thank you for a gift. It implies that the receiver owes them something, like food, your firstborn, or a favor (no matter how deranged).”

If only she had known this warning when meeting the unpredictable, tricky, and arrogant magician Willy Wonka. She fears her precious daughter is going to have to pay the ultimate price for her moment of temporary short-sightedness. Especially when her daughter doesn't heed her warnings.

People change over the years. People are also multifaceted and can have contradicting factors about themselves. Her daughter will find that she was kept away and hidden for a reason.

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐬: love/hate, meet rude/meet ugly, secret children, mentions of violence/blood during a hallucination, abuse of trust, Willy is a bit rude, obsessive and dark Willy Wonka, dark fairytale elements, and taking inspiration from the actor's few insane moments and running with it

𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞: Written in 3rd person. Named child character. Named mother!reader if you want to imagine that, or named OC; she's named Sapphire, inspired by the singing lady in the tram scene

“I was young when I first made the deal with him,” she had described herself to Noodle Slugworth Smith, the next in line to inherit the Slugworth empire and fortune. When she first met the soon-to-be-known magician she was indeed several years younger than him despite looking older than she actually was… She wonders if that was another reason he continuously manipulated her and kept her in his clutches…

To be exact, she first “met” him in passing on a tram car on the way to clock-in at her job. He’d been posing as a tram ticket collector and had offered her and a friend a piece of chocolate each to sample—something she would have declined had her friend not pointed him out and his reputation throughout the past several months not preceded him.

But even before he announced himself and began handing out samples throughout the tram car, Sapphire had thought none the wiser, his face blending in among the sea of others. That, along with already being distracted because she was on her way to work, then the candy’s influence to dance and sing on the crowded tram that quickly became overwhelming before the police even showed up, she wouldn’t have been able to pick out his face from a line-up even if she wanted to.

Which is why when she came across him once more sometime later, it made sense why she hadn’t recognized him: clothes really can make the difference about a person.

Now sometime later and at a laundromat on a rainy day, Sapphire has no reason to know that the tall man alone in a far corner was the previously unknown, enigmatic chocolatier that swept in and gradually took her city by storm. At the laundromat, he looks so ordinary and unnoticeable, staring off at a point unseen. She doesn’t give him any acknowledgement beyond a few glances to mind her distance.

It has been an angry and dark overcast for the past week, the air heavy with humidity and the promise of rain that never came.

‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Keep reading

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imaginedreamwrite · 1 year

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Bad For Me

Pairing: soft!dark!mob!Steve Rogers x reader

Summary: You met while taking a few classes at a fine arts school. While your main focus was dance and music, his focus was sketching, drawing and painting as much as he could.

You didn’t know how dangerous he was as a man, you wouldn’t have possibly guessed that he was going to take over the mob to become the next Don. You had no idea that the man you’d been on two dates with was a monster in sheep’s clothing.

He knew you. He wanted you.

He took you. And now you were his wife, never able to flee.

#soft!dark!steve rogers x reader angst #soft!dark!steve rogers x reader #soft dark #soft!dark!steve rogers x reader fluff #soft!dark!steve rogers x reader smut #soft!dark!mob!steve rogers #soft!dark!mob!Steve Rogers x reader #mob!steve Rogers x reader #bad for me series #bad for me masterlist #bad for me

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w-g0htt · 1 year

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free-mari · 3 months

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- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ *+:｡.⋆·˚ ༘ * i could be your girl, girl, girl, girl, girl, girl...

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sebastianstansqueen · 2 years

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Cheer Up Love 1

A/N: Here is the first part of this series, feedback is always appreciated, if you want to be Tagged, either send an ask or comment on this or click on Taglist open.

Wordcount: 1,384

Warnings: Angst, Smut, I think that is all actually

Chapter Name: All Of Us

Masterlist // Series Masterlist // Taglist open // Spotify Playlist

Tags: @cherryblossomskye - @babylooneytoonz - @wonderlandfandomkingdom - @miraclesoflove - @amelia-song-pond - @leyannrae - @avengerlex - @pineprincess -

Bucky, along with Steve, and Sam, sat on the plush couches in Y/n and Bucky’s house as Y/n, Peggy, and Natasha danced around all together with the music in the background played on the record player. Eventually, Natasha stumbled over and Y/n caught her in time but both women fell to the floor in a fit of giggles. Bucky got up off his spot on the couch and helped his wife up, kissing her as she stood up. “God I love you.” He mumbled against her lips.

“I love you too.” She said back.

“Oh we know that look boys it seems we all should be going.” Natasha said pointedly at her husband. Sam stood after she spoke, along with Steve the two other couples left after Y/n and Bucky waved them goodbye.

Bucky led Y/n to their shared bedroom of theirs, Bucky kissed her exposed neck. “God, why do you gotta be so beautiful.” He mumbled.

She smirked up at him. “Am I though.”

He grabbed her by the waist holding her up. “You better take that back your fucking gorguse.” He said pointedly like he was talking to a child learning a lesson. “I’ll show you how fucking gorguse you are.” He pulled down her panties she wore under the dress she was wearing.

He slowly fucked her making every moment worth it as he pushed in and out of her. “Oh god.” She moaned lowly, kissing and nipping at his arm.

Eventually, after both of them got ready for bed, the husband and wife fell asleep, Bucky holding her. She started to have an awful dream, waking up gasping and reaching out for something unknown. Y/n looked out at the dark room, Bucky’s arms still around her securely, eventually she fell back to sleep ignoring whatever it was.

The next morning Y/n cooked her breakfast and Bucky’s lunch, along with coffee for both of you, in the shirt Bucky wore the previous night at the get-together they held at their home, Bucky waited against the island in their kitchen in a suit ready for work. She packed up his lunch box. She smirked. “You know what I think you have a fever of like a 102° and you need to stay home baby.”

Bucky laughed. “Is that so?” He held her in both of his arms, kissing her. “Whoops, looks like you got what I got now.” He said going along with her joke. “I gotta go make that bank.” He laughed, heading out the door, Y/n followed after her husband, every other woman on her block watched as their husbands left for work, and drove away.

Natasha walked over to her best friend. “Now it's time for some of our fun.” The Red haired woman handed off a margarita to her friend.

Y/n laughed. “Nat you're so bad.”

The friend put her hands up in defense. “Hey, I only drink a little around the kids, just a smidge.” Natasha laughed, smoking her cigarette.

“I’ll see you later Nat.” Y/n said before she downed the margarita, and headed back to her house, to eat and then clean up a bit. She did all of her usual cleaning of the windows, the bathtub, toilet, laundry, and anything else, then she headed into town to get some groceries, everything from candy to meat had WV marked on it, she placed what she got into the cart she grabbed when entering, then once home she put all that she got into its corresponding place, whether it be the fridge or a cupboard.

Later that night when Bucky came home from work, he smiled when seeing Y/n in one of the many dresses he had bought for her in the past. Bucky smiled, pulling her close, forgetting the drink she had made for him, as he started making love to her on the table in their dining room, his tongue flicked against her clit as he showed her how much he loved her, working her to her edge of reality, her head felt light, as an orgasm rang through her body she gripped the edge of the dining table as he continued tasting the sweet river of life on his tongue. Y/n’s chest moved up and down in a rough pattern with sweat on her forehead.

That night going to bed Bucky turned to her. “Did you hear about the new couple in town?” Bucky asked as he undid the shirt he wore that day.

Y/n looked at him with furrowed brows and shook her head. “No?”

“Yeah um, they're having a get-together at the Stark’s home tomorrow to celebrate, um there names are Wanda and Vision.” Bucky explained to Y/n before he took his pants off.

“That’s an odd name.” Y/n stated.

Bucky huffed a laugh. “Yeah but uh we gotta just get used to him.”

The next day, she and Bucky headed to Tony and Pepper's house, Tony had created what Westview is known for a peaceful place for people to settle down together. Y/n, Peggy, Natasha, and Wanda, sat together. “So Wanda um is Vision a nickname or something?” Peggy asked.

“His parents were quite intelligent people but they weren’t great with names, I mean his mother was named Jocasta and his father was Jarvise, so yeah.” Wanda said with a shrug, the three other women nodded and hummed along with the explanation.

Tony and Pepper came out to talk to the large crowd of people. “Thank you all for coming here today, I know we don’t usually do this, but Wanda and Vision are our one hundredth couple to come to Westview.” Tony spoke to everyone.

“No!” Everyone's attention settled on Valkyrie, Carol’s wife, she laughed incredulously. “You trapped them here, all of us are trapped.” She said with panic, everyone started to whisper to one another.

“Not here, not now.” Carol hissed at her wife before rushing away with her.

Tony huffed out through his nostrils and hid his irritation with a serious but delightful smile. “We all know that hard times have fallen upon Val and Carol, but no worries, all will be well, they will be fine, no worries.” Tony declared.

Y/n turned to look for Bucky but he was missing. She went to go look for him, on her way she found Carol and Valkyrie, sitting in a side room, Valkyrie seemed to be crying. “Y/n, please, please believe me.” She sobbed, and Y/n felt a huge amount of empathy for her friend of hers.

Carol turned to Y/n. “She’s fine, ignore her.” The blond said passively, before closing a curtain around the two of them.

She shook her head as if to get what she just saw out of her head, she looked around for just a moment longer, and then she found her husband trying to fix his tie. “Hey what's wrong baby?” She asked, coming up from behind.

“Yeah, I just need to fix my tie, that's all.” He shrugged.

Y/n smiled. “Here let me help you.” As she started to fix the tie, he sat her up on a table and pushed up the skirt of the dress she wore that day. “No Bucky, no not now, there who knows how many people out there.”

He smiled down at Y/n as he slid down her panties and slowly slipped into Y/n, thrusting slowly and kissing her neck, she moved her head to the side to give Bucky more room, and as she looked over she spotted Tony in the corner, just watching almost, she tried to say something but I wouldn’t come out like something was stopping her, and Bucky continued unknowingly, just trying to show his love to his wife.

After cleaning herself up and Y/n fixing her hair, she turned to Bucky with a serious look on her face. “What’s wrong?” He asked.

Y/n looked at him with furrowed brows. “Did you not see Tony just watching us?”

Bucky looked at Y/n like she was crazy. “What no, Tony wouldn’t do that Y/n.” He huffed.

“I know what I saw Bucky.” Y/n huffed, Bucky just shrugged off, before he led her back outside.

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satanisthomemaker · 7 months

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Oh, to be a Satanic housewife living in a cottage. 🐍🍎🕯️🔮🥀🍂📚

#satanic woman #dark cottagecore #gothic cottagecore #satanic cottagocre #hyper feminine #the feminine urge to devote yourslf to satan #ave satanas #tradwife #satanic tradwife #parody #satire but kinda want it for real #dark femininity #soft feminine #soft dark #rustic

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daisychainsposts · 1 year

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Egobabyau thing again this time I’m gonna go into more detail about naming and child rearing styles

Bing

Has a girl named Alexa

Disaster Dad

Thinks the way to calm a baby down is to shake it violently

Bio mom has full custody but bing likes to visit

Google

Has a girl

Hates his with a burning passion because he sees babies as lower than humans

Would leave her outside and let nature take kill it (dark ends up adopting her and naming her Sofia)

Ed Edgar

Has another boy

Now has a two for one sale

Would pay birth parent to get an abortion or to have sole custody and take the other baby with them

The mom brings the boys over for play dates with the other kids

Wilford Warfstache

Has twins, a boy named Damian and a girl named Silena

Dark cried a bit when he found out that Wilford had named his son after him

Is more like a fun uncle than a father

Would join the twins in putting their fingers in electrical sockets

The twins are surprisingly durable and are suspected to have inherited some of Wilford’s abilities

In Will’s more down to earth moments he’s more cautious with them.

Dark is their protective uncle/father figure

Darkiplier

Has a girl named Dorothy

Thought with the whole piloting a corpse thing meant that he was sterile so he was overjoyed when he got the news

Spoils her (-and Sofia) rotten and tells her stories about her sleeping aunt Celine

Dorothy is a ray of sunshine so anytime someone meets her father it throws them for a loop

Bim Trimmer

He has one daughter and her name is Britney Beyonc’e Trimmer

He spoiled her a bit too much so Darkiplier had to step in because she was being mean to the other kids

Has been putting her in beauty pageants since she could walk

The host

A boy named Aaron

Stern but gentle

Reads him to sleep every night

The King Of The Squirrels

Has triplets 2 girls 1 boy

Their names are Flora, Hannah and King

The girls are the only ones with normal names because they were the only ones Dark could trap and “domesticate them” - king’s words not Dark’s

They were taken in by host because dark is busy enough with his kids + work

King is the king of squirrel’s heir and he brags about it…constantly

The girls can partially translate what king and the king of squirrels say

#baby ego au #ego baby au #soft dark #darkiplier #wilford warfstache #bingiplier #googleiplier #ed edgar #bim trimmer #markiplier the host #egobabyau

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anyhsalinas · 10 months

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Soft dark makeup from my previous tutorial 🧛🏻‍♀️ / 🇧🇷: Maquiagem escura suave do meu tutorial anterior 🧛🏻‍♀️

#mine #makeup #maquiagem #soft goth #soft goth aesthetic #grunge #grunge aesthetic #soft dark #soft dark makeup #dark academia #dark academia makeup #ghost makeup #halloween makeup #dead girl aesthetic #vampire makeup #vampire aesthetic #spooky makeup #mkp

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onsunnyside · 1 year

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thinking about toxic bf!Ari: (maybe some soft dark elements)

he’s the kind to fuck you to tears then bring up one of your exes bc he somehow thinks you’re still in contact with them, (“give me your phone and prove me wrong then”). he’s very possessive when you go out with friends: he has to approve what you’re wearing, where you’re going, who is going to be there, and you have to check in with him or else he’s going to show up (he has done that multiple times) and god forbid he find you talking to someone else (“if it looks like flirting, then you’re fucking flirting”). He gets jealous easily: if you hug someone a little too long or kiss their cheek (even if you’ve been good friends for years), you best know that you’re not leaving his side for the rest of the night.

He knows no boundaries and basically sees you as his property, and in his twisted way, that’s how he shows his love to you. He does all the thinking, planning, guiding and heavy lifting, and in return, you have to be his obedient, loyal, loving girl.

One night you’ve had enough of him: Truthfully, without any liquid courage, you would’ve never opened your mouth—and Ari knew that, that’s why he kept buying you drinks. Your relationship was a little too smooth sailing at the moment, he needed to stir it up.

“You think you’ll ever find someone better than me, baby?” He traps you against the wall with one hand on the side of your head, a cigarette in the other. “You think you’ll get far without me? Thinking for yourself, doing shit without me telling you to…” His scowl turns into a sly smirk at your silence and he nods, stepping back with a puff from the cigarette. “You know what? Why don’t you leave then? Let’s see how long you last all by yourself before you come crawling back to me like the dumb girl you are.”

And so you do, you go home and gather what little things you can carry and leave. You avoid your friends bc you know that’s the first place Ari would look for you and you didn’t want to drag them into this mess.

Then a few days later you find yourself calling him from a pay phone, broke as hell with puffy eyes, and outside a dingy motel that you can’t afford anymore.

“That was shorter than I expected.”

“I-I’m sorry, Ari. I wasn’t thinking, I was being dumb a-and I miss you,” so bad.

He’s quiet for a moment, “I know.”

“Can I—Can I come back home, please?” You sniffle, wiping your nose with your sleeve.

“Are you going to be good?” He asks, sounding as bored as ever. “If not, then you can stay wherever you are.” Now, that was nothing but an empty threat bc Ari has been going crazy without you and he wouldn’t last another night. If you didn’t come home now, he’d scour the city until you were in his arms again.

“Yes, yes, I promise I’ll be good.” You’ll be better than good.

You could almost hear the smile in his voice, “that’s my girl.” His dumb, sweet girl. “Tell daddy where you are and I’ll come bring you home.”

yes I love sweet love, but I also want to know more about this asshole who is willing to do the most terrible, underhanded things to keep you under his control 🫡

#toxic bf Ari #sonny drabbles #Ari Levinson #ari levinson drabble #toxic Ari Levinson #soft dark #mean Ari Levinson #tw toxic relationship #soft dark!ari levinson #soft dark ari levinson #tw soft dark #Ari Levinson x reader #ari levinson x female!reader #ari levinson x fem!reader

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caroldantops · 1 year

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i just think that wanda dumbifying me and treating me like her little doll and making me watch cartoons with my stuffie and having me hold her hand whenever we step foot outside the house and secretly using her magic to keep me stupid and and and

and and and and and and and

#c: wanda #soft stuff #kinda hehe #soft dark

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englass · 2 years

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Hey! If you’re still taking requests, could I ask for soft-dark prompt #12 “Simply killing them will never be enough. Not after the way they hurt you…” I was thinking it would be a good fit for a Hurt/Comfort fic with John Seed x Reader (established relationship?) Thank you! :)

Ahhhh, I'm so sorry for taking so long to get to this, Anon!! And yes! If anyone ever wants to request anything from that list, then I can still do them. Just bear with my slow self, please 😅

Also, ngl this prompt got really personal… so apologies for that. Regardless of my heavy projecting, I hope it’s okay all the same, Anon 😬

12. “Simply killing them will never be enough. Not after the way they hurt you…”

- - -

Sometimes you wished John wasn’t such an attentive partner.

You thought you had been doing so well at hiding it. So good at keeping the shattering pieces of yourself hidden under the rug and away from the keen eyes of your partner. Making sure that the moment more cracks formed and more pieces splintered off that you were either hidden away or John was out of the house.

You felt bad enough when he took time away from his responsibilities with the Project (dubious as they were) to tend to you, no matter the occasion or issue. You didn’t want him getting into any trouble with his brother just because you were struggling.

Just because you couldn’t– can’t handle the sting, the absolute agony of that proverbial knife buried to the hilt within your abdomen. Twisted and jammed and unwilling to be pulled out, leaving you hunched and crippled and barely able to stand.

You didn’t want to think about it. Didn’t want to keep replaying the whole thing over and over again. Didn’t want to keep torturing yourself over every word and intonation and how it could have gone differently.

You didn’t want to keep thinking about how their betrayal was somehow your fault.

You didn’t want to think about how little they truly cared about you. How little over two decades of friendship meant to them, how quick and merciless they were to throw it all away; especially when it meant everything to you.

How could they? After everything that had happened in those many years of friendship– all those low points shared, all those misadventures laughed about, all that trauma shouldered, all that love and care and time invested in one another, in your families and your lives…

How could they?

…

What did you do wrong?

Why did it always feel like you gave your all only to get nothing in return? And you know it shouldn’t be about what you can get in return – friendships aren’t about being tit-for-tat; you thought they were about respect. About mutual platonic love and care.

You were supposed to be chosen family.

For them to treat you the way they have, to use you the way they have…

Without remorse, without an apology, without an explanation…

Well… you guess it shows how much they think of you.

It was just unfortunate that John had come home early while your thoughts were spiralling, curled up in a blanket on the couch, head buried in the back of it as you quietly sobbed and once more found yourself suffocated by the paralysing feeling of loneliness. The abandonment caused by someone you considered family wrecking you.

Along with the invasive thought that, without your John, you really would have no one.

And it was that horrifying realisation that caused your shame at someone seeing you cry, no matter how raw and open you could be with that person, to lay low. To silent itself as you sobbed over the worries and anxieties that tore you down at the loss of a friendship that once meant so much to you. Regardless of how much it apparently meant to them.

John wasted no time in coming to your side the moment he saw you and the state you were in, taking a seat beside you on the couch before gently bundling you into his lap. Wide oceanic eyes frantically scouring over your huddled form as if searching for even the slightest scratch to your person.

But even with his soft words, tinged with accents of panic and poorly veiled rage at whatever had you so distressed, you couldn’t get the words out. Could barely control your breathing as the weight of everything appeared to just suddenly collapse on top of you in your moment of absolute weakness.

It’s only now, after the warm light of the afternoon has faded into the cool gloom of the evening, that you’ve managed to exhaust yourself enough to talk to him. Cuddled into John’s chest, face tucked into his neck and body securely sandwiched between him and the back of the couch, you tell him everything. Try not to miss a word or forget the smallest detail as you divulge the whole tale to him and how deeply it’s wounded you.

In some ways you're now glad that John never got the chance to meet your supposed best friend, dates and times never quite meeting up.

… Although at this point you are nearly convinced they just didn’t care enough to meet him in the first place.

In the lull between your shaky retelling and John’s soothing words of love and affirmation, the gentle caress of his fingers and lips against your skin, you begin to catch his fleeting murmurs of retribution. Of dark declarations and the sure promise of God’s righteous judgement. A judgement already signed and sealed by his most devout baptist.

“They don’t deserve you. They never have, or ever will. You’re far too good for them, sweetheart. You’re too good for me; but at least I know that. At least I know just how beautiful and remarkable of a person you really are, and I thank God everyday that you chose me. That you love me… it’s more than I ever thought I deserved.

“… You saved me. You are my salvation. And I will spend the rest of my life knelt at your altar. There is nowhere else I would rather be…

“That sinner will never know how blessed they were to have you in their life. I would kill to have so many years spent with you. To have you dedicate so much of yourself to me, as unworthy as I am of the privilege, would be… it would be all I’ve ever wanted. Oh, if I could have those years…

“Justice… atonement… it’s my job to weigh the souls of all who come to us at the Project. To measure their sins… to cleanse them until they are worthy of the paradise we have been promised.

“… but They will never be worthy. No matter what they confess to, no matter how many times they will confess to it, no matter how many times I have to pull it from Them, it will never be enough… There is no saving someone that doesn’t want to be saved, despite what Joseph thinks…

“Even simply killing them will never be enough. They don’t deserve such mercy. Not after what they have done to you. Not after the way they hurt you…”

He whispers it all in flittering tones against you, almost conspiratorial in how hushed his voice is as his fingers dance absent lines across your skin, opposite hand buried in your hair to hold you tight and hidden against him.

You don’t think he knows that you’re listening to him. Seemingly continuing to mutter to himself and running along with wherever his train of thought leads him, going quiet as he gets too lost and distracted by them.

Truly, you also can’t help but get lost in thought while listening to him: guiltily imagining the eerie glow of that red room in his bunker, how it paints violent lines across the dirty walls and John’s tools.

How it would cut similar lines across your old friend’s face.

The potential fear and horror that would mar their features, the helplessness that would fester in their breast when they realised just where they were and who had taken them, just whose hands their fate now belonged in. Trapped and pinned like a poor moth at the scale-covered hands of a cruel lepidopterist.

God, you can only imagine John's expression…

Whimpering you physically turn away from the vindictive scenarios your mind is desperately racing to conjure up, hiding yourself further in John’s chest and trying to think of other things. Like if what they did is something that you can reasonably forgive; if this over two-decades-old friendship is worth fighting for; if your self-worth is low enough that you can pick up the pieces and act like the hurt and disrespect and mental deterioration you have suffered at their hands is something you can overlook.

…

Your self-esteem may be low, but even you know that you deserve better than that. Far better than how they have treated you.

… But can you really throw all those years away?

Each thought ping-pongs off the other, a constant back and forth that starts to wear at you the longer you hear them ricocheting. But with John’s soothing voice in your ear, his comforting warmth surrounding you and the hypnotising patterns and lines he draws across your skin, you quickly find the noisy sound of your thoughts fading. Gradually slipping into an exhausted daze that leaves them muffled.

But still, some thoughts resound louder than others.

And they are outraged and indignant, aggressive and downright vitriolic. Encouraged by John’s whispers, they conjure those vile scenarios in abundance and demand retribution of their own, grab at the metaphorical throats of all your other submissive thoughts and shames them into heeling.

They spit and beg in equal measure for you to allow the one person who would be willing to do anything for your happiness to do this for you. To allow these nasty imaginings to become a reality. To allow John to enact whatever punishment he deems fit in defence of you and your honour; in his wholehearted bid to protect you.

You are weak and unintimidating. Delicate as a petal in your soft and subdued nature; fragile at the whims of your gentle and empathetic heart.

Ultimately, you are powerless.

But John isn’t.

You have seen firsthand the type of power he wields, and although you have never approved of his work and the means in which he conducts it you do acknowledge it. You acknowledge that it also grants you a level of power you are not familiar nor comfortable with, by proxy.

A power and influence that your wounded thoughts are desperate for you to take advantage of.

He loves you.

He wants to protect you.

He would do anything for you.

Let him.

…

It is shameful how long you entertain the thought.

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imaginedreamwrite · 1 year

Text

Exile: Part 2

The ground shook beneath you; a false hope that the earth would split and swallow you whole had been ruefully cast aside as the premise of pitching yourself off the edge of the world-shattering, thundering waterfall to the left had been ripped from you.

It was an unnecessary caution; the binds that kept your hands clasped and yet the powerful stare from the King himself had rendered you more fired up than ever.

Your attempt, or your success rather, to do damage before you arrived at the kingdom, had come at the expense of one of his knight’s arms. The relatively large gash had been inflicted by yourself and a tiny stone after you had taken the chance given to you after one of them had helped you from the King’s beastly mount.

The knife stashed in your boot had come in handy, and it should have been their fault for assuming you wouldn’t have had weapons hidden on you. You would not become compliant simply because the King was seeking you out. You wouldn’t crumble before him merely because he was your soulmate and he had been searching for you.

“Forest bitch!” The knight had bemoaned; he had screamed when you dug the knife into his arm and twisted, the blade sharp enough to pierce the light armour he had worn. “The fucking bitch stabbed me!”

“I suppose you’re proud of yourself.” The king tilted his head as he studied you.

The dark blue tunic he had worn with the crest in the corner was distinguishable by the silver threading that marked him as a royal, and now that you were closer, you could see that his eyes were not genuinely blue, but instead, they had flecks of light green within the irises. The green that reminded you of fresh buds after the harsh winter and your first declaration that he was beautiful had now become weak.

Beautiful was no manner to discuss the king, however arrogant and brutish as he may have been.

He was tall, easily over 6’0”, and you were remiss to admit that the strength of the decoys had seemed grim compared to what the King had been blessed with. It was easy to see how a man like him would be rooted in arrogance, as the beauty surrounding him had no doubt boosted his ego.

“Pride goeth before the fall.” Your voice dripped with bitterness, your eyes flashing with hatred at the man who was deemed to be your soulmate.

“You stabbed one of my men.”

“Oh? Just one? Give me a blade and another chance.”

“You wish to assault more, flower?” he traced his fingers along the side of your cheek, his nails making contact with your flesh.

“I’ll start with you.” You turned your head and snapped at his hand, your teeth nearly grazing his fingers.

“Someone needs to teach you manners. However, I can hardly expect any different. You were raised in the wild when you should’ve been raised in comfort.”

The king stood and brushed his hands against his breeches, then moved toward his great beast of a horse and reached into the saddlebag to grab a linen parcel of fruit. “Are you hungry, princess?”

You squared your jaw and flexed your fingers, feeling the binds against your wrist. The strands of the rope they had used were grating to your wrists, and yet it was nothing compared to the fire surging through your veins. You hated him, and you hated him for taking you.

“You must be hungry, darling.” His voice and eyes were cold, yet his affections were soft. “Wouldn’t you like something to eat?”

You had dug your heels into the earth and pushed yourself backward on the rock you were resting on; the stone hiding behind was sharp. You had a thought, maybe more of a last-ditch effort to throw yourself back and grab the stone; if you could hide it upon you, then you could take off the binds.

“Aren’t you going to do anything, your majesty? She stabbed-“

“Enough.” Steve had set the linen parcel down and undid the twine binding it, the various fruit and small nuts inside coming to light. “I insist that you eat.”

“I won’t take orders from you.” You pushed further, the stone within view if you turned your head, the edges similar to that of a serrated knife, yet smoothened by weathering.

“When we get back to the kingdom, you will not speak to me in such a manner. You will treat me as your king and future husband-“

“I would rather pitch myself off the waterfall.”

“-I am your soulmate, and we are bound. You are mine, and I am yours.” He walked toward you, a piece of an apple in his hand, and you were forced to crane your neck to look up at him as he stopped before you.

“I missed the chance to marry for love, and after my first wife died, I vowed to find the one destined for me.”

“You had already found her.”

“No.” There was twisted darkness that overtook him, a possessiveness that had stemmed from some manner of betrayal. “No, that whore was a fake. She had used a bewitchment to make it appear real. She had used me to gain a reputation.”

“Too bad.” You pictured the strike of lightning, and it had taken everything you had not to react when he had struck his hand upon the rock beside your hip, his blue-green eyes darkening.

“You are mine,” he leaned in and studied your face, “you will always be mine and if you try and run from me again-“

“-I will.” You pushed yourself to sit up further, your noses nearly touching. “You can bark orders all you want, you can use whatever raging hell you please, but there will never be a day when I stop trying to get away from you.”

His gaze dropped to your lips, and you used that distraction to lift your leg and drive the heel of your boot into his crotch. As he reacted with a strangled grunt of pain and the rescinding thrush of heat that was no doubt a result of his suffering, you drove yourself back off the rock and scrambled for the stone.

You clutched it in your hands and let it fall down your wrist and into the sleep of your tunic, and as the men scrambled toward you, you bent over and caught the stone as it fell from your tunic and shoved it into your boot.

“Leave her!” Steve ordered his men when they put their hands on you, and as he stood fatter catching his breath, his eyes burned with bone-chilling intensity.

You stepped away from him, your back hitting the chest of a knight. Your arm was grabbed, and your fight had lingered when you struggled against the man holding you where you stood.

“For your sake, princess,” Steve stood in front of you and grasped the back of your neck with his large, powerful grip, “I hope you save the rest of your fire for when your body is trapped beneath mine, and you are writhing in pleasure.”

“For your sake, your majesty,” you gritted your teeth and ripped your arm out of his knight’s grip, “I hope you sleep with one eye open.”

There was verbal silence that fell heavy over the place he had chosen to rest. No one said a word, and the tension had only grown when the silence lingered as the sound of the thundering earth and the rushing water careened over the edge of the cliff. The tumultuous waterfall was creating a sort of buffer between the stillness surrounding the area and the two of you at odds with each other.

“Are you going to behave, or should I tie you up and throw you over the back of my horse like a hunted animal.” Steve waved his hand, motioning for one of the knights to bring forth another spool of rope.

“I thought I already was.” Your eyes were drawn from the king to the rope he had grabbed and the steady withdrawal of his men back to their mounts.

“I am giving you a chance to retain some of your dignity, my little flower. Will you trounce through the kingdom like the future Queen you are, or will you be thrown across the back like the big game?”

Steve stepped closer to you, the rope wrapped around his hand, and as you lowered your gaze once more, you saw the identical mark to yours, peeking out the rim beneath the sleeve of his tunic.

He wanted you to submit; you knew he had. You knew he wanted you to cave and cater, to bend to his will. Everyone else had; he was the king, so why wouldn’t his soulmate cater to him as well? Why wouldn’t his future Queen adore him like the rest of the people he commanded?

“What are you waiting for?” You shoved your wrists toward him, your clenched fists slamming into his chest. “If you’re going to treat me like an animal, you might as well do it properly.”

“As you wish, princess.” Steve grabbed your bound wrists and spun you effortlessly until your back was to his chest.

Before he bound you further, he leaned in and brushed his lips against the shell of your ear. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll tie you up in the marriage bed as well.”

“Not likely.” You swung your elbows back and caught him in the stomach, though you couldn’t get far before you were grabbed again and thrown to the ground, your feet becoming bound as well as your legs.

You were lifted from the ground and set on his great beast, and then he had joined you. He snaked his arm around your waist as you were made to sit sidesaddle, with nothing to balance into except him.

“Are you ready to leave now, forest wench?” He grunted in your ear.

“As if I have a choice, you abominable-“ your voice came to a halt as his hand squeezed your thigh.

“Do not think me so patient, forest nymph. I would just as likely punish you in the presence of my men as I would in the comfort of our home.” Steve gripped your hip and yanked you flush against him, and then he spurred his horse, and the company was on the move again.

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