#wilful denial

[dear-mrs-otome]

Before and after 'crimes against accepting your feels' have been committed

#ikemen prince #ikepri #ikepri silvio #spoiler #spoilers #ikemen prince spoilers #ikepri spoilers #mrs o loves salty seadogs #boy BOYYYY you are so far down the river deNial you can't see the shore anymore #but sure go ahead keep telling yourself you don't give two shits about this woman you've bent over backwards to save #tell yourself it's only to piss off her or rio or your old man #maybe emma wil still be waiting when you finally disembark #i did think the two stage cg was cool

[here-there-were-dragons]

i’m surprised belly of the beast won, given that it’s a reference to an ancient greek torture device (which most likely didn’t exist and was only a propaganda piece) and lately they’ve been getting increasingly obsessed about presenting an ever more and more strict all the time squeaky-clean-unobjectionable-to-even-the-most-puritanical-christian-parent-who-thinks-kids-will-be-irreversibly-damaged-if-they-hear-the-word-heck-before-they’re-18 image.

like either they don’t know or somehow blood or fluid of any kind, “suffering”, so much as indirectly implied offscreen toxic relationships, the color red in any saturated and untinted context, the word crap, weird shipping fanfic existing even offsite, even the tamest most purely scientific worldbuilding-minded anatomy/architecture blueprint textbook type references to the existence of bathrooms or certain hypothetical parts of anatomy, the implication of basically any fantasy illicit substance and most illegal activities that are actually shady rather than just kind of aesthetically petty childlike candy-bar-from-the-grocery-store theft possibly existing in-universe, references of any kind to the existence of alcohol, cults of any kinds, truly evil leaders or characters that aren’t just “evil” in a flat cartoon villain way, basically most possible activities that involve killing someone beside a very narrow range of extremely bland cartoon disney death violence, coercion of even the tamest most pg fantasy violence animated movie acceptable kind, black undetailed silhouettes of someone getting stabbed in again just about the tamest most kids cartoon way, any references to cannibalism even in a tame cartoon little kid trying to be edgy nothing is onscreen or detailed way (remember back when literally everyone had at least one cannibal plague dragon), any implication of even healed wounds whatsoever, the bloody bandages apparel and anything like it (they regret those things so hard), ect ect ect are too much for the poor hypothetical mindless impressionable 13+ year olds who cannot be allowed to see so much as a drop of videogame darkness lest it cause them to think becoming a shooter is okay but ancient greek torture devices explicitly and only allegedly for publicly cooking people(political dissenters) to death in an extremely viscerally painful way and listening to their screams through a special horn that makes it sound like a bull (that probably didn’t exist) are fine, which is hilarious and that standard should remain that way if that is the case.

#flight rising #to be clear i do not object to it winning in the slightest #i'm just surprised with their constantly tightening standards of content purity #which make it literally not safe to have ever posted text anywhere on the site at this point because it's pretty much a given #that no matter what you talk about they wil lsomehow eventually decide it's retroactively outside their increasingly tiny pool of acceptable #fr could use more of the incredibly tame stuff people call 'edgy' now tbh #this place feels like a fucking christian bible belt town without the openly visible connection to christianity at this point #feels like they're about to sega mandate that characters aren't allowed to yell at eachother or frown or something #12 way eternal race war of explicitly genocidal intention-now safe for ages fetus and below only! #the content restrictions drift more and more 7 and below on a site legally required to be 13 and up #depression-induced showerthoughts #ALSO like a christian bible belt town in the fact that one of the site admins was a transphobe and the current one was a racist cop #and there's tons of barely-covert terfs and terfs-in-denial #and half the players on the site i feel like at this point are either open or closeted aphobes #and ect ect ect ect ect #it's populated almost entirely by the kind of people who would have a pink lovecore aesthetic blog that the use to tell you to kill yourself #and would doxx you for writing dsmp(eugh) fanfic #not to mention the site's own content wholesomeness standards do not consistently apply to anywhere near the same level #to things that the site itself adds in lore #you just try writing something like the banescale genocide and not running up against any content purity regs #i guess you could say going through with that skin idea with as restrictive as the site is now was.... brazen #depressed bluescreen posting #i'm surprised they haven't banned those extremely sfw healed amputee skins yet #probably haven't entirely decided if doing it would cause backlash over disability rep or not yet

[ossie50]

Wilful ignorance, discomfort & guilt avoidance

It’s that time of the year when possibly millions of people in the USA will be sitting down to watch the annual replay of Ebenezer Scrooge in the 1950’s movie version of Charles Dickens “A Christmas Carol”. Scrooge was what you might label as being wilfully ignorant. In other words, blocking what he did not want to see and believe in spite of the potential consequences. This deliberate choice…

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#avoidance #blame & excuse #denial #discomfort #guilt #learning #wilful ignorance

[starillusion13]

MINE TO KILL

Pairing: Royal!Yunho x f!reader (ft.Wooyoung & Seonghwa)

Genre: Royal, Mature, Enemies to (?), Smut, Angst

W.C: 11k (don’t ask me why so long)

Warnings: mention of - to kill someone and threats, death, memories, lots of crying, raw sex(don’t do it sillies), nipple play, oral(f), lots of kiss, twins(?), jealousy, fingering, orgasm denial, soft love, crying, scared, mention of torture, open cut with knife, loss of blood, forcing into (a slight dub-con), false visions, going psycho, stabbing who(?) find it out. Regrets and manipulation. Playing with someone’s feelings and emotions.

Network: @cultofdionysusnet @k-vanity

Note: Thanks for reading and reblogging. I appreciate all of your reviews and feel free to text me if you want. Spread love to others, not hate. I love Yunho when he is angry and guys finally I have identified my bias in Ateez I think it’s Yunho😃 dw it will change in my next fic lol

MINORS DONT INTERACT UNDER THE CUE!🔞

Let's see our Villain Yunho!

"Even if I go away..." she sharply inhaled and gulped the lump in her throat, turning her back to him to hide the tears which were shaking to fall from her eyes, her fist clutched the locket above her chest tightly in her grasp and bit her lower lip to exhale the silent sob which managed to escape, "...don't forget me. you...you are my everything. Even if we don't deserve this, still we belong to each other and no one can ever change this fact."

His arms wrapped around her shaking body from behind and his nose bumping into her unsettled hairs from the wind earlier. Her soft hands placed over his palm and the rings displayed nicely on his fingers were bumping her strokes on his skin. Just like the way, her every happy moment was getting halted by that only person. who?

His lips touched her backside of the head, the heat of his lips and the breath fanning around the area was making her grip on him tighter.

"are you crying?" his whisper made her heart beat faster. Even if she was going to leave soon, his voice would be the reason to kill her sooner. The heavy and low tone with the concern dripping from every word for her, only for her. It sparkled a desire to live more. She wanted to live. to stay.

"...no..." she closed her eyes and ducked her head down.

He exhaled into her hair causing a shiver run down her body and he kissed the previous place again, "why are you lying, y/n? I said we will get over this and then we will be together for always."

"I don't have time...I have to go...far away...away from everything, from this place and......from you." she whispered the last two words and hearing that he quickly removed his arms and turned her around harshly, she stumbled in her place and still looking down. She didn't want to face him, knowing the effect on him after hearing her statement. She was prepared for this for a long time but couldn't say it earlier.

Or maybe she didn't want to say it. Even now.

He cupped her cheeks to make her look up. His eyes were furious with the anger after hearing the words of her leaving him. He was giving her the hopes to stay forever but still she was hoping to get away from him.

Closing her eyes, she refused to look at him, a tear slid down his cheeks but she couldn't see it and she gripped his wrist, the sleeves of his silk attire adorned with intricate golden embroidery that traced elegant patterns pierced her skin under the hold.

"Look at me, y/n." He was mad, not at her but at her words. She shook her head and squeezed her eyes shut tightly. He kept looking at her when his gaze fell on her quivering lips. She was scared but why.

"Are you scared of me?" His question was broken just like his soul seeing her so weak in front of him.

She quickly denied it by shaking her head furiously. His hands over her cheeks made her still. His eyes followed the way her tongue wetted the dry lips. Her tongue was not enough for her dry lips.

He ducked his head to her shoulder as he whispered, "let me prove you that I can love you and I will protect you forever."

"Please don't say like that. I can't forgive myself for leaving you."

He scoffed, "then don't leave me. Why can't you stay?"

She remained silent. He raised his head and brought his lips to her. Just a breath away, he stopped. His tear line touched her cheek, the liquid sensation made her flinch and his breath so close to hers sent an ache to the heart. Both of theirs.

He murmured, his lips bumping into her quivering ones, "why can't I know the truth? What are you hiding from me?"

"Nothing." You breathed out the words.

He slowly pecked you, "then stay with me."

"I can't."

One hand entangled in the hairline on the back of her head and other resting on the nape, he pulled her into a kiss. He was craving for it. His desire to taste her even though he had tasted her a lot of times before but still felt like it was the first time.

No but he didn't know it was his last time.

A tear drop escaped her eyes. she lost the war to hold back the tears from him. the kiss tasted bitter sweet and yet the melody of the beat was same from her heart, filled with love. sweet for the passion and longingness for each other and bitter for the pain in their heart for the lost hope of living forever.

he stopped the moving of his lips but stayed as close as possible. his lips mixed with their saliva which running down to his jaw, his lips travelled to her cheeks planting soft kisses and moving down to the jaw and kissing the skin which was longing for him. pulling her dress off the shoulder, she whispered his name. her whimpers made him kiss harshly on the exposed shoulder and bit all the sweet and soft spots he was familiar with. her lips softly kissed his ear. their sweet smells intoxicating each other's nose and making them pull towards the other even more. he pulled his head back.

she gripped his wrist tightly, whining for the lost of his lips. his forehead rested onto hers and closed his eyes. she finally looked at him. the moon reflected in her eyes, the breeze blowing silently, the loose materials adorning their body swaying with the wind, shivers running through their skin but the love of each other keeping them warm.

"Don't make me regret for leaving you."

"I will make you regret. I can't afford losing you even if I have all the royalties, money and everything that everyone desire of. it's nothing compared to you. please..." he was sobbing. she had never seen him so vulnerable and weak because he had a noble and prestigious status to maintain and his ambition was always to win.

but somehow he lost, the day he met you.

"call me selfish but I want you to remember me. Remember our each moment we spent together. Remember the things I have told you. Remember our love and our memories...Remember us." she said and cupped his cheeks to make him look directly towards her. she smiled to him and he did the same. she taught him many things and he will always remember them. 

How can he just forget you?

"If you die. I will be the one to kill you. I am selfish for you." his tone was very familiar, the way he always shows his possessiveness over her. she sadly chuckled.

"I am not dying...I am just leaving but I'm always yours to kill." she hugged him and he pulled her closer to his embrace.

His to kill.

.

.

.

"Welcome back Prince Wooyoung. It's been honored to see the handsome young man after such a long time. How are you?"

The young man with the black glittery attire with jet black hair, a black coat with the same color bottom with some gold and silver embroidery lining the materials and some tracing patterns on the back and above the chest. A chain attached to the second button to the pocket on his left side. Every gem and jewellery over his body reflecting the sunlight peeking inside the grand hall of the palace. His black boots hitting the carpeted marbled floor and with each step the servants and maid bowing towards him. A sly smile resting in the corner of his lips and hands folded behind his back. Nodding his head causing the muscles from jaw to neck to move tightly, he acknowledged all the greetings and dismissed them.

Taking a glass of water from one servant, he sent a smile towards him with his bright eyes before turning towards the man who greeted him, "Seonghwa, what's with the formal greet? Atleast treat me like an usual person. I hate this royalty enough already now you don't give me more reasons. Well, fortunate enough I am fine and I have something to show you all."

Seonghwa was in royal attire with a white fringed sleeve shirt with a corset and black loose bottom. Piercing eyes with loose black hairs falling over his forehead, few strands sticking to the sweat lining.

The older one laughed to his whines and patted his head, "I am glad to know that you are fine enough after the long trip. Stop being so dramatic now and what's the thing you want to show?"

"We need this other person to be here as well. Talking about him, where is he though? I expected him to be the one standing at the entryway." he said and took a place on one the two loveseats. everything around him was screaming the royalty but he was looking as if a young boy pressured to be the one to carry the crown of a prince.

Seonghwa hesitated for a moment before replying, "He might be busy with works but I hope he will be happy with the news of your arrival."

"what? you haven't informed him about me?" he frowned and placed the glass on the table.

"It's not like that, he-"

"Woo. you are back?" a deep voice echoed to the walls of the hall. the guards behind the door were also attentive to this person, the birds even remained still and the sunlight coming from the window directly falling over him, admiring his black hairs with the black lace around his neck. the black loose shirt hugging his body and the similar jet black bottom admiring his body proportion with the golden embroidery black coat hanging on his one arm. the thumb played with the ring in the index finger and then moving to the middle finger. His shadow was the most dominating one in the palace at that moment and Seonghwa felt intimidated before the look but nodded in his direction when his gaze fell on him.

The younger boy had a wide smile across his face and jumped up to run towards the person who just now announced his presence inside the hall. His arms flew up to wrap around the tall figure who wasted no time to welcome him to his embrace. He missed his love so much. Seeing the excited younger one, he patted his back before pulling apart.

"How was your training?"

"Yunho. I missed you. it was so difficult without you teaching me in a smooth way. they were so harsh and Hongjoong. he was always there to scold me. It would have been better if Seonghwa had went there with me instead of him." Wooyoung made an annoyed face which brought little smiles on other two males.

Seonghwa chuckled, "I am gladly sending this speech to him."

"Oh shut it." Wooyoung glared at him before turning to his elder brother, "Well there is someone I want you to meet."

"Yeah, he was telling me earlier that he wants to show us something. I don't know if I am allowed to be here or not." Seonghwa said in an unsure tone.

Yunho turned towards the older one, "of course you are welcomed to everything. you are like a brother to me and to us." He side eyed his younger brother.

Wooyoung nodded and clasped his hands together to call a maid towards him. The maid bowed towards them and waited for his order. He whispered something to her and she nodded before taking her leave.

"Let's welcome her." He smiled towards them and waited near the door.

"Her?" Seonghwa was confused but having a concern look over his face when he glanced towards Yunho who was sitting on the chair beside the table. He was quiet and gripped the knife tightly in his hold.

Wooyoung just nodded and looked away. Seonghwa sighed and walked towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Where is she?"

"She is in the guest room beside my room to freshen up and I asked the maid to call her here. Before you ask me anything else, I met her during the trip to the kingdom. She was the one who kept me alive after Hongjoong's daily torture."

Seonghwa smiled at him.

Someone knocked on the grand metal door. Both of their attention went towards the door and saw a young woman standing in a light blue gown with sleeves hanging slightly from her shoulder with white straps over it. The dress was plain and the hairs loosely resting on the shoulder and locks falling to the side of her face. Tugging the hair behind her ear, a smile sent out to them.

"Hello..."your soft voice made Seonghwa's breath hitches. Wooyoung skipped his steps towards you and embraced you with his arms.

Hearing the voice, Yunho threw the knife across the room. Seonghwa looked at him and he was both scared and concerned. He quickly went towards him and held his hand when he was about to throw the spoon again. Wooyoung was too distracted with you.

"This is the one I was talking about. Meet my savior, y/n from Utopia."

Y/n...

Yunho stood up and pushed the man away to look at his brother and you. He was furious. The muscles around his jaw and neck turned red with clenched fingers and teeth and staring at them with rage.

"Who is she?" He asked with a dark look.

Wooyoung was confused with his sudden reaction but still introduced you to him.

"Y/n..." Yunho repeated the name, he tasted the word in his tongue and it tasted bitter and sweet at the same time. He scoffed and stood in front of you, "and why are you here?"

You were scared and pleading for help from Wooyoung who gave you a smile. "Yunho, don't scare her. She is new here and we will be getting married soon."

Yunho bitterly laughed, "Marrying? Are you serious? Do you even know her?"

"Yunho...you said you will allow me to marry anyone."

"Anyone but" he glared at you, "her."

He turned away and walked towards the door. Seonghwa followed him in close behind and when his gaze fell over you, you saw hatred in them similarly like the other. You gulped and clutched the man's hand beside you, he patted you.

.

.

.

"Oh I'm sorry I didn't look in my way." You apologized and looked back and you bowed towards him, "your honor, Prince Seonghwa."

"Just stop with your acting already. Tell me why you are here. Don't give false excuses." He was glaring and his words were dipped in hatred.

Since the day you started living in the palace, you have seen the similar hatred in their eyes. Their every stare felt like they were about to kill you.

Even Yunho attempted to corner you one day with a knife in his grip and held it to your throat while he was gripping your other arm tightly. You were scared but he was not fazed by that look but when a tear fell from your eyes, a glint of regret, a flick of sadness occurred in his eyes. He loosened his grip and you managed to run away from him.

You sent a confuse look towards Seonghwa after his question and shook your head slowly, "what are you saying? I'm here with Wooyoung."

"You are with him because now he is the easy catch for you. Leave him before Yunho or I will kill you."

"You won't be attempting this wild thing. It's not what you want to do with me. Think about it again. Can you really kill me?" You stood closer to him and smirked. "Can you live in peace after killing me...after killing y/n?"

You bumped into his side before leaving him there. He sighed in his place.

You were right even if he threatened you, he could not kill you.

But what about the other one.

"What are you doing here?" Your voice made him roll his eyes but still facing his back to you. You sighed and stood beside him and leaned over the railing to pick a flower.

"Don't even dare to touch it."

You played with the flower between your fingers and replied, "but I love these flowers. Y/n loves theses flowers a lot. Look at them, these are so sweet." you turned towards him and he was staring at you. you smiled when your gaze fell on the locket around his neck. his silver bodysuit with wide neck making it highlighted. "that locket has the same flower."

"don't speak about this flower from your filthy mouth." he spat at you and you nodded. 

"why do you hate me so much? as far as I know, you really can't hate me or harm me."

"Do you really want to hear? Then listen..." he gripped your jaw and stared at you furiously and you kept a neutral expression, "I hate that you are here. I hate everything about you, your face, your voice, your gaze and...you."

"So basically I need to change my whole being and that's not even possible because people love me for who I am. Well, I can't spend a minute more here to hear your shits so better learn to accept me or leave this place for a while because I will be here for a long time and I'm not leaving soon. I will take my leave for now,Prince Yunho or should I say Yuyu."

"Y/n!" He shouted your name and a smirk appeared on your face before turning your back to him, walking away towards your designated room. "I will see how you are going to stay here. I will kill you before you can even realize. Y/n is only mine." 

two days later.

You were shocked to hear the news that Yunho left the palace for a while and he won't be returning soon and no one was aware of his day of return. you leaned back into your chair and sighed.

"Why are you not eating? what happened?" Wooyoung asked you while munching on his food. Shaking your head, you pout and held your fork near your nose to inhale the scent of the delicious food and hummed in satisfaction. he chuckled to your reaction.

"This smells so delicious, Woo. I am craving for it even though I haven't tasted it yet." you took a bite and your eyes went wide with the taste melting on your tongue.

"Then eat it. There's a lot and you can have as much as possible." You nodded to him and started eating other dishes. You felt someone's gaze boring hole on you and you smiled to yourself before locking your gaze with the man across from you. He didn't touch his food but was gripping the juice glass tightly with clenched jaw towards you. 

"Here. have this, you haven't started eating anything. are you not happy with me being here?" you offered the side dish to Seonghwa and casted a glance towards Wooyoung who smiled to your gestures and laughed to him across the table.

"Of course not. He is really happy with your presence and he is just not used to being around a girl in this palace. Right, Hwa?" 

The older one glared at you before replying, "Woo. I am well aware of how to react to a girl's presence but I don't know how to react to her. I think she has said something to him for which Yunho left so early and didn't even inform anyone when will he return. I hope Mingi sent us some news soon or I will kill her." He stood up, making the chair fell behind and before glaring at your direction, he went off to the garden.

"Seonghwa!?" Wooyoung shouted.

"What happened to him?" you asked with the teary eyes.

Wooyoung pulled you and calmed you down, "Hey, it's okay y/n. Dont be scared. I think he is disturbed with something. I will talk to him."

you nodded and both of you proceeded to eat when he told one maid to serve Seonghwa his food in his room.

It's been one week you haven't seen Yunho since he left that day without telling anyone where he went. You asked Wooyoung about his brother's whereabouts but he was even not aware of anything as well. You both were on the same boat. After the commotion you had with Seonghwa during the lunch, you saw him very less and even if he comes across you, he ignores you as if you don't exist. You felt hurt that two of them don't appreciate your presence but still you were trying to win their heart, win their trust that you were there for a home.

You always wanted to stay with your loved one.

You smiled to the thought of Wooyoung. He was busy with archeries since last morning and you were keeping yourself busy with wandering around the palace and getting familiar with the people.

The servants, maids and the soldiers were all very polite and strict to their schedules while on duty but they really treated you nicely. They referred you as the best princess for the kingdom, Halazia. 

"Y/n is always the best one and our dear princess."

This compliment always made your heart warm and forgetting about those two who hate you, a feeling of being loved surrounds you.

When you took a turn towards the stairs, you watched the sun setting down slowly and the dusk welcoming the dark sky to cast upon the palace. But as soon as you looked away to your front, you made eye contact with the elder prince, Yunho.

He is back? when? you smiled towards him and walked closer to him. his expression was neutral, you were not clearly understanding his intention but still you slowly approached him. 

"Yunho...you are back. How are you?"

he scanned your face and you noticed his eyes were red and cheeks were red and he couldn't stand properly without a support. when he was about to lose his balance, you gripped his side and balanced him with holding his arm and waist. "Hey, are you okay?"

"What are you doing here?"

you ignored his question and pulled him towards the door. he was quite heavy for you but still you managed to push open the door with him in your hold. He was whining like a baby and hiccupping when you pulled him towards the bed. 

Your white night gown was so low in appearance to his extra-ordinary embroidery prince suit. you managed to take off his coat and shoes with the jewelleries. he was repeatedly asking you why you were there and why you were helping him, this and that but you just smiled towards him and tucked him in the bed. his eyes were closed but you offered a glass of water and urged him to drink, first he refused you but eventually drank it and fell to his back. placing the glass on the table, you approached to his side and kept staring at him. his pale soft skin was tinted with red but his dark personality was hidden behind the whining little boy in front of you. His puffy cheeks were urging you to pinch them but you shook off the thought and turned around when he grabbed your hand.

"Y/n...please don't leave me...please stay."

your breath hitched to his request. you couldn't believe he was urging you to stay with him. you gulped but didn't turn back because your scared eyes were fixed towards the door. you hoped someone to enter but neither Seonghwa nor Wooyoung was at the palace for the moment.

you slowly turned around and held his wrist softly. "Yunho, you are drunk. you don't know what you are saying. I should leave now and sleep. you must be tired after returning back."

His eyes shot open and he was crying, he sat up and pulled you on the bed and embraced you in a hug. "please, y/n. why are you doing this to me? please...please don't leave me again. I can't stay without you."

again...

you patted his back, "Yunho...please sleep."

"No. please let me show you that no one can else can love you more than me. I am the only one for you. we are for each other."

"Yunho-"

before you could say anything more, he connected his lips with you. your eyes went wide and even when you tried to push him, he pinned you down. he was hungry for your kiss. biting down your lips, you cried in pain and wiggled under his hold. his tongue explored your mouth, teeths clashing to each other and he sucked your tongue. he was tasting every inch of your corner. his lips kissed your jaw, your throat and his face rested in the nape of your neck, he breathed out and his lips nibbled the area before biting down the area.

"please stop it. Yunho, I...I..." you were sobbing but he hugged you tightly. "y/n please please don't cry. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you."

"you are not hurting me but it feels wrong doing this."

he pulled apart and pushed you on your back, your head hitting the pillow and his fingers entangled with yours when he hovered on top of you, "nothing is wrong when I am making love with my y/n. you are mine and I can do anything for you and to you."

"but-"

"please..." his pleading with teary eyes made you nodding to him. you agreed to obey him, to let him do anything to you.

you smiled when he returned to kiss the areas where he bit you earlier. he pulled down your night gown, untying the loose knots and pulling the materials down which were blocking your intimate areas. you felt shy under his gaze. his face was attached to your skin. he gripped your palms tighter, flexing his muscles and veins popping out from his hand, neck and forehead. you eyes rolled back when he plopped a nipple in his mouth and toying with the other. your fingers entangled with his hairs.

He has done this before. Same feelings he has made you feel it again and again but still you love it each time.

"Yunho..."

"Only I can make you feel like this. only I am allowed to love you. Only me. Y/n is only mine. No one can have her other than me."

the way he is saying your name, it felt like he was talking about someone else to you. he was referring someone else. his grunts and groans filling your ears, making you squirm under him. his hand left your breast and move down to undo his pants and quickly remove them. he was impatient and so was you.

he was impatient to have you and you were impatient in fear to get caught by someone, maybe Wooyoung.

he planted a kiss between your breasts, right under the heart. a tear drop fell on the place and he closed his eyes. 

his red and hard member dripping with precum toyed with your heat, you squirmed and whined when his tip rubbed your entrance, you moaned out and his mouth left your nipples and bit the soft areas around it. his juicy tortures of the lips and teeth trailed to your jaw before planting a long kiss on your anticipating lips.

"Yunho...please..."

"Have patience, Y/n. Take it slow. We have the time for whole night." his thumb rubbed circles on your clit and suddenly he pushed himself inside you. you cried out with the stretch and the pain but he didn't wait for you to adjust and started thrusting faster and harder. His pace quickening and when you caught his gaze on you. he was glaring at you.

"This is what you wanted, right?" he clenched his teeth and gripped your jaw when you tried to look away. "Tell me. Am I making you feel good?"

Tears falling from your eyes and his glare made you clench around his member. he scoffed when he hit you deeper. your hand gripped his forearm and urged him to slow down but he pinned you down more and wrapped his fingers around your throat.

"You can't say anything? huh? such a filthy one. you are already dumb with this. Tell me that you are mine. Tell me y/n. who do you belong to?"

"Cum...I want to cum...Yunho please..."

"Shut up. I am asking you to tell me who do you belong to? Cant you answer it?" you choked when his grip tightened around your throat and he was putting more pressure on to the side.

"Should I stop?"

"No no. please..." you coughed out and his gaze darkened. 

there was a fear in your eyes. you were not sure if he was loving the moment with you or he was trying to kill you but the rage in his eyes was bold than the fire and the gaze darker than the night sky. there was a void in his eyes, you couldn't see any love while he was deep buried inside you but there was a cover of hatred.

when he quickened his pace and it became uneven, you were sure he was near but when he was about to cum, he pull out and spilled his seeds on the sheets. you whined for the lose of his touch but moreover you whined because you wanted to cum.

"you are not allowed to cum because you didn't reply me."

"Please..."

"Leave my room before I will do something to you." He waited and watched you being still in your previous position, "I said LEAVE!"

you flinched to his shout and wrapping the gown around you somehow, you glanced at him. he didn't look to your direction and you left his room. the moment his door was shut, he started crying. 

"what have I done? why? I'm sorry y/n...I'm sorry." he clutched the locket around his neck and sobbed to himself.

.

.

“Stop running around, y/n . You will fall. Seonghwa will scold me that I have let his precious one to fall down.”

“First catch me then only I will stop.” Her laugh echoed around the hall and the said man watched them playing around the palace. He loved her like his own sister and watching her so happy made his heart warm.

“You are running too fast. Those gowns are not safe to run around in.”

“Just accept that you are a weak Prince, yuyu.”

.

"Tell me y/n, why are you here again?" Seonghwa's eyes were red and he was holding your hand, preventing you to leave the place and go back to the party. you were cursing yourself to come here alone without Wooyoung and annoyedly, you wiggled your arm from his grasp.

"what's your problem, Seonghwa? I won't tell you anything. Leave my hand. you are hurting me." 

"And you are hurting me with false hope. please tell the truth. I am begging you."

"Seonghwa, it's better if you go on your own way and let be on mine."

"Y/n."

"Don't say my name. I am tired of hearing this name with you all behaving so pathetic around me. Just stop with your nonsense already." you rolled your eyes and pushed away his hand.

You caressed your wrist and continued, "you all look really pathetic. how you are you going to manage your whole kingdoms on your own when you all are so weak and giving false threats to a girl."

"Don't test my patience, y/n. Why are you here again?"

"Are you not tired of asking the same question since day one. Stop it. I am with Wooyoung here and we are getting married soon. also after he will convince his brother and I will be the princess of Halazia. Oh wait, I will be the Queen."

he stood close to you and glared, "so you are here to take over this place. To rule this kingdom. You are using Wooyoung to get the access to the core."

"that's an intelligent prince there. Maybe, I'm here for the exact reason." you smirked and held his wrist. "even if I'm here so close to you but you can't even kill me. You won't hurt me because you don't have the courage to do it."

Seonghwa pulled his hand away from you and turned around and when he was about to exit the door, you laughed and said, "atleast Yunho hasn't notice it yet. He is yet to find out the reason behind me being here."

You watched how he harshly opened the door and without even glancing back, he went out. you knew you had triggered his emotions.

but what emotions exactly?

"And you thought I won't notice?"

You flinched to the sudden dark voice from the stairs. The ceiling lights and the lamps had a warm radiant but those lights were still piercing on your skin. As if the hatred inside you was adding to the heat of the lights.

Your piercing eyes reflected the shining light of the light chain decorated on the railings. You gripped the glass tighter in your hand, feeling the anger rising in you to watch him descending the stairs.

He should slip a step and fall from the stairs in front of you.

The boots hit to the marbled stairs slowly, the walk was slow, too slow to let you hear each sound of his boot precisely and clearly.

Your glares directed towards him made his corner of the lip to tug upwards slightly. He watched you intently and noticed your slight fear which you were trying to hide it but still couldn't. At this point, the grip on the glass could have broke it easily but somehow it didn't break.

Maybe like the hatred inside you was enough to burn him but the slight fear was more powerful to hold it back.

"Why are you here?" You hissed.

He eyed the glass in your grip and walked forward to stand a bit too close to your liking. you were glued to the ground. you wanted to run away but still something inside you was forcing you to face, face him like the royal you are. are you strong enough? maybe not. he is more powerful than you. both in morals and money.

"If I say...for you?" he said and leaned forward to inhale the perfume. he hummed near your ear, "same sweet smell. It always remind me of the night. don't you miss the day?"

"Never. why can't you just forget about it?"

he chuckled and stood straight, "oh it's too perfect and interesting to remember. how can I just let that sweet moment slip through my mind. I am carving it on a campus to make it remember even if I have amnesia one day."

you gritted your teeth and raised the glass to throw the wine at him but he was quick to get a hold of your hand and took away the glass from you. you glared at him but he just smirked at you and brought the glass to his lips, maintaining an eye contact with you. you could hear some people passing by the passage through outside the main door of this hall in the backyard of the palace. you glanced to the direction of the door and hoped someone to enter so that you could escape his grip because your strength was nothing to his.

the voices became distant and the hope inside you died down with the rising of the bubble of fear.

"I hope you soon have the amnesia and so that I can kill you by myself." you wiggled your hand under his grip.

he ignored you and asked, "have you drink this? did your lips touched the glass?"

"why? will you drink from it now?"

he poked his inner cheek and smirked widely, "oh! I am craving for the lips from that night and if you don't give me the honor to devour them again then I have to do it in this way."

"Yunho, mind your words." you threatened him only to get a loud laugh from him. he threw his head back and amusedly watched his grip on your wrist. the image from that night flashed in front of his eyes. the same way you were whimpering under this hold and begging to him.

"But you loved every words from me when I was choking you." He cocked an eyebrow and smirked.

"Please stop it."

"And if I don't?" He loosened his grip on your wrist and as soon as you stepped backward, he harshly grabbed your arm and pulled you towards him. "Does Wooyoung know about this?"

"About what?" You hissed at him because the grip was leaving red marks on your arm and the fingers on his fingers were pressing on your skin.

The touch was filled with hatred or love?

It's visible that it's all about the hate for you.

"About us? The love we shared that night. The way I made you feel good." He leaned to your level to whisper into your ears, his breath hitting your nape and you shivered, "the way I marked you mine. When in the first place you are always his."

"There is nothing called us. That night was a mistake. Don't talk about it again. I don't want Wooyoung to know about it. I am never yours."

He sipped the wine from your glass and closed his eyes, humming in the taste of the liquid. You watched him in disgust. Gulping down the glass, he noticed your glare.

He paused to stare at the door and when the voice of the person on the other side became distant and he noticed that you were distracted.

He threw the glass across the room and glared at you. You flinched to his sudden action and his grip tightened.

"y/n...y/n...y/n..." He sang your name and his voice and the name coming out from his mouth sent a shiver down your spine. He noticed your little gulp and harsh turned you around and flushed your back against his chest.

"Y/n and Yunho...isn't our name fit nicely together?" He darkly chuckled in your ears. His one hand grabbing your arm tightly and the other placed on your throat. The hand was caressing the skin around when he suddenly squeezed it.

Your choking sound made him smile widely and in satisfaction he whispered, "it will be so fun to kill you, y/n."

You scoffed, "is that a threat?"

He chuckled amusedly, "why? Does that sound like a compliment?"

He loosened his grip around your throat, you coughed out and took deep breaths but he held you against his body.

"Leave me, Yunho."

"I will only leave you when I will kill you." He gripped your jaw and made you face him. His glares were strong, his muscles tight against the jaw and neck and the gritted teeth hissing at you.

"Then kill me."

"Y/n. Y/n, where are you?" Wooyoung's voice echoed around the place and you both could hear it. You broke the stare with him and looked towards the door when the door was pushed open.

Yunho changed your position and placed his hand on your cheek and other still holding your arm. Smiling at you and you stared at him in confused silence.

Why is he suddenly acting like this?

Wooyoung entered the hall and found you either Yunho, he smiled at your form who was held by his brother. You both were facing side to him. Yet to notice his approaching steps towards you.

"There you are my love. What are you doing here, y/n? That even with Yunho?" He was smiling all the way and when he reached near you, you pushed Yunho's hand and hugged Wooyoung.

Wooyoung smiled and patted your head in his embrace and with confused looked at his brother.

"What happened to her?"

Yunho chuckled, "she lost her balance in this dress and her glass fell from her grasp so I was just helping her out."

Wooyoung nodded and felt your hug tightened around him. You clutched his coat tighter and closed your eyes in anger.

These brothers were always different from each other. Wooyoung was in red attire representing his love and passion for you. Whereas Yunho in black attire radiating luxury and power in elegance shooting towards you.

"Are you okay, y/n?" You nodded to his question and he urged you to stand straight. He signaled his brother that he would like to leave the place with you to spend some time and his brother nodded. He guided you towards the door and you followed him either your hand entangled with his and looking down. You could feel a stare burning hole on your back but you didn't look back.

Yunho's eyes followed till you both exited the door and took a turn. As soon as you were out of his sight, he grabbed his hairs and pushed back in annoyance.

"I will kill you, y/n." He clenched his jaw and glared at the way from where you left with his brother.

"Always remember that you are mine." He exhaled heavily and clenched his fist where his knuckled turned white and the palm was almost flushed red with slight edge of the nails digging into his skin.

"Mine to kill."

y/n is his.

.

.

"Aw you are looking so pretty. My beautiful one. this flower really suits you. I will make a whole palace with a garden of these flowers just so you can look this mesmerizing when playing among them." He said and hugged her tight.

"you love me too much. even if it's too cold out here but your words are making my heart warm." she said and turned around to put the flower behind his ear, "this look good on you. I love this flower and I love you so we both will live together in that palace."

he smiled at her and kissed her lips, surprising her with his sudden action. she was used to his playful nature but every time still he managed to surprise her. she was too naive for him and he swore to protect her at all cost.

"I love you, y/n."

she smiled and kissed him, murmuring into the lips, "I love you too, Yuyu."

Yuyu...

.

.

"y/n...where were you for one whole week? you didn't come to meet me for so long. Do you even know how much I have missed you?" she shook her head to the whiny man who was sitting in the middle of his bed and staring at her like a lost puppy who missed his owner.

"Am I your owner? you are a grown up man so learn to behave like that. Where are the etiquettes of a prince?" she folded her hands and raised a brow while questioning him. She yelped in surprise when he pulled her on his lap.

He was only covered in blanket and she knew if she just pulled a little bit of the corner, she would be greeted with the authentic sight of his perfectly pale and muscled body with his veins patterning under the skin. she wet her lips with the anticipation of what was coming next. The loose materials hugging her body was being removed slightly to get a better access to the places he desired. Gripping his shoulder, eyes closed, she bit her lips to hide the effect of his every touch on her. 

"Let me hear you, my princess."

she shook her head and when he bit the back of her ear, she moaned out his name and he lightly chuckled into her ear. It was as if her body gets pulled to his lips like a magnet. Everytime, if the tip of his finger touches her, the body ignites with the desire to get railed by him. she felt embarrassed with the thought and he was well aware of it and he loved to tease her about it.

Pumping the breast over the loose material somehow hanging from her body, his ears were blessed with the whines and moans from her. To tease her and push her to her limits, he grunted in her ears and when she tried to push him down on the bed, he laughed at her impatient state.

"Come on. Don't tease me. Please..."

"Y/n...you won't be ever leaving me, right?" he asked her while he was laying her down slowly, kissing the shoulder blades and marking her wherever he pleased to and then kissing away the pain. he brushed back the hairs from her face and smiled to her when she returned him the similar look.

"Never...you are not getting rid of me unless you are the one pushing me away."

"You are always pretty, y/n."

"Of course, for my handsome prince, I need to look always my best or it won't be fair." placing her arm around his neck, she pulled him into a kiss. he didn't mind but let her kiss him. he was rather enjoying her desperation to feel, to have him for herself. he smiled into the kiss and his hands toying around with her heat and breast and pressing the clothed nipples, making her gasp into the kiss. She pulled his hair and apart from the kiss and glared.

he laughed at her silly face, "what happened? desperate? for me?"

"Yes..." she breathed out, "show me how much you have missed me all these days. her hands travelled all over his back and caressed the bare skin. Taking a hold of her hands, he pinned them down and his look darkened with lust but his every word and action was filled with love.

"Be ready for me princess."

"Always for you…Fuck..." she gasped out and pressed her thighs tighter around his head. "that feels good..."

"Like this?" He hummed against her heat and nuzzled his nose on her clit making her whimpers louder and he was enjoying the sight of her squirming just under the effect of his tongue.

"Uh yes...yes... Like that...please" she replied breathlessly and gripped the sheets tightly.

"Yuyu..." she whimpered. "It feels so good... It's driving me insane..."

"Such a dirty one, aren't you, princess? You know I go crazy whenever you call me this name and still you are saying it now." he murmured against her throbbing ache. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No!" she exclaimed, thighs tightening further around his head. the pressure around his head made him gripped down her hip and continued with his abuse.

"Mmm..." He hummed as he added a finger making her cry out with the cold touch of his  rings to the heat, "you are so delicious..."

"Ahhhh..." she moaned loudly when she cummed inside his mouth. he gulped down the liquid and licked the area with his hot tongue. he slurped the juices as if he was starving for all these days. 

"Yuyu" she whimpered, "No more please...I need you"

"Yes... have patience, princess" he groaned and got up, hovering over her, squeezing her breasts harder. his dark gaze scanning her body, he smirked that she was all displayed like that and flushed red in front of him because of him, for him.

his fingers rubbed her leaking and aching heat and scissored it before he let her feel the tip of his hard member hitting her entrance. the precum dripped on her heat, mixing with her stained walls from her previous orgasm. He pulled back his hand from between her legs and sank down his hip onto hers. she gripped his arms and cried out with the stretch and his lips kissed the tear line and lips hovered over the closed eyes.

"Look at me love. Let me see those precious pearls."

she snapped her eyes open to find him already staring at her with amusement filled eyes and his hand was caressing her face and patting her head, whispering soft and encouraging words to forget the pain and focus on him because they were making love and love can be gained with a little pain. she grinned as she watched him throw back his head when he felt her clenching around him. he groaned and pushed his his hip faster and his muscles were flexing under the dimly light of the room. his fingers traced over the curves of her body and her nails dig into his back.

 She snaked a hand behind his head to pull him down for a kiss. The heated moment when their lips met, their bodies trembled in anticipation and the each little of their touch made them whine. he ran his fingers through her hair, stroking it gently. His lips gently grazed and his tongue licked her lips and she smiled. parting her lips slightly and felt his tongue slide against hers. His tongue traced along the every inch of her lips before sliding inside, tracing the outline of her teeth. His lips wrapped around her desperate tongue and sucked onto it.

She let out a muffled moan as he slipped a finger to rub her clit and push her to the edge. His finger slid inside of her and collected some juice. her breathing became heavier as her body heated up. With every flick of his tongue, every movement of his fingers, her arousal grew stronger and she whined. he could feel her trembling form under him, squirming and becoming weak. he pulled back his finger and urged her to stay still.

"open your mouth and eyes on me." she obeyed his command and soon he pushed his finger inside her mouth. he smirked when he watched her sucking his finger for the dear life, her back arching with the approach of her orgasm and he was near too. she grabbed his wrist and he knew she wanted to cum and he gripped her jaw and nodded. He glanced between her breast and smiled.

 she screamed with her climax, the walls clenched tightly and he felt her cum coating him. Waves of pleasure washed over her as her orgasm exploded within. closing her eyes shut tightly, she trembled uncontrollably.

"you look more beautiful like this, y/n..." He moaned and thrust faster, "mine. you are mine y/n...tell me who you belonged to....tell me."

"You...it's only you, Yuyu" she whimpered as her palms clutched tightly under his strong grip. "only yours, I can't take it anymore."

"Thank you love." He smirked. "That means I am making you feel good that no one else can."

"You like it when I fill you up, right princess?" he whispered into her ear. "Do you like feeling me deep inside of you?"

"yes yes..." she moaned out. "You feel so good Yuyu."

Soon he bottomed out inside her, she had felt his hot liquid filling her inside earlier a lot of times but every time, he felt so good. He made her look at him when he filled her with his seeds and the blissed out expression made him hummed in satisfaction. they both were tired and he slowly pulled himself out and fell over her. he pecked her lips and rested his head on her chest before planting a kiss on the place just under her heart between her breasts, fingers flicking the hard bud in front of his eyes. she whined and hit his hand. his laugh vibrated on her chest making her smile. 

"I love you, Yuyu...we will always make love like this. I want a happy future for us where no one can harm us and we will be enjoying our life with each other." she played with his hairs and stared at the ceiling, the flames from the chandelier lighting her eyes. his eyes were reflecting the flames from the candles decorated on the various shelf.

"Love...we are always together...in every universe...in every life. I can't lose you ever. No one will take you away from me. You are mine. I love you, my princess y/n."

His princess...

Then why are you his enemy now?

Does he not love you anymore?

what happened to him?

.

.

.

"what happened, y/n? searching for Wooyoung?" Yunho laughed in the end of his statement and you paused before retorting back at him when your gaze fell on his hand, holding a knife. you gulped and stepped back. you tried to run towards the door but Seonghwa closed it shut and stood before it with folded hands and a wide smirk plastered on his face.

"Are you going somewhere?" he asked you and chuckled.

"Move. I need to leave. Wooyoung is waiting for me." you said annoyedly and he rolled his eyes.

Yunho laughed again and it was pissing you off and you turned around to glare at him. he raised a brow and held a glass. before you could contemplate his moves, he threw the wine towards you, making you drenched and your eyes went wide.

"What the hell you are doing?"

"Trust me. Wooyoung is not waiting for you and even if he is waiting for something then it's to hear the news of your death." he glared at you.

You scoffed, "and that won't be happening today. You...you can't kill me. You can't kill your Y/n."  you smirked and wiped off the liquid from your face. why the hell you were in that situation. you were hoping to atleast get someone out from between these two psychos but who was there to help you. No one. Wooyoung wants you dead.

What is going on?

"Oh he definitely can kill you." The man standing in front of the door said and glared at you. 

your confused look went back towards Yunho who was playing with the knife between his fingers. you gulped how his fingers swiftly swiveled the knife. your mind was storming with the thought that he won't harm you, he can't kill you.

you are his first love. his only love.

"Yuyu..."

"Don't say that name from your filthy mouth. I will cut off your tongue first."

you flinched to his shout and the choice of his words sent a shiver. he approached to your trembling form. he watched how tears were falling from your eyes and you were trembling under his gaze. the memories of you being in the same state before flashed in front of his eyes. his index finger wiped off a tear-drop. he watched it intently, he bit his lips to prevent his weakness to come out. His anger rose inside his body and furiously he watched how your eyes were shedding tears.

He stroke the knife up your arm and slashed it. your forearm burned with the cut and you shout out making him smirk and throw a dirty look at you. 

"Yunho! Are you crazy?" you pressed over the cut to prevent the blood flow out from your cut. you were scared and annoyed. how can he hurt you like this? he never liked you getting hurt. then why?

he again slashed on your other arm. you cried out in pain. you fell on your knees and hoping him to stop. Seonghwa was watching the whole incident but never stepping in front to stop him. He was somehow satisfied with the situation unfolding in front of him. you were sobbing and wishing to get away from him when he grabbed your jaw harshly, he was grinning at you.

"I am crazy. I am crazy for Y/n."

"You should not hurt who you love." you said between your hiccups.

"and how about you realize the same thing?" he grabbed your hair and pulled it backward, you hissed in pain and his eyes travelled all around your face. every inch was similar to that Y/n whom he loved, whom he cared. the one who taught him the beauty and flaws in life. the one who gave him hope to live. the one he treasured. the one whose memories he kept safe. the one whom he can't ever forget.

but the heart was not same like before.

that y/n had a warm and liberal heart and this y/n with a cold and greedy heart.

he scoffed and traced the knife with the lining of his face. your fearful eyes looking back at him, begging him to stop but he was nowhere near a pause. 

"Please. stop it. it hurts."

"it hurts her too." he replied quickly and you gulped. the tip of the knife pressed onto your cheek, slowly piercing it. "she was begging to stop too."

"who are you talking about?" you sobbed and continued, "you should only think of your y/n. I'm sorry I left you but please we can talk about it. I will explain."

"There is nothing  left to talk about. she left me. she left me forever. she is not coming back." he said and slashed his knife across your cheek. you let out a shrill cry and he smirked to the satisfaction. "maybe you have the same face but you cant be her."

"Yunho...I'm still your Y/n." 

"you are not her!!!" he chocked you with his fingers putting pressure enough to make your vision go blank for a moment, "You are not Y/n...Y/n is dead. Sana, you have killed her."

"Sana, you can never be y/n even if you are her twin sister." he pushed her back. She coughed out and caressed her throat before glaring back to him. the blood flowing out of the cut and her throat was marked with red fingerprint. 

"Yu-"

"are you still pretending to be her?" he placed the knife over her chest. "she cried to me. she cried to me that she didn't have time. she hoped for me to save her from her decisions. she said her goodbye to me but I thought just like the other day, she will again come back to me."

but she never did.

"why you had to kill her? you envied her so much that you had to erase her forever." he stabbed her thigh, her body jolted down and let out a shrill cry again, satisfying his ears. "she was crying for you to stop but you didn't listen."

he pulled out the knife and stabbed again, "you wanted money. you wanted this royalty. I would have given you everything but you killed her. That day I left all of a sudden because i didn't want you to know that I went to Utopia and I didn't expect that I will get to meet y/n. Not her but her last letters to me. Her aunt really kept them safe but she couldn't save her."

"stop.." he twisted the knife. "please..."

"she begged for you to stop. You didn’t. She promised you that she will not return to me that she will help you to get everything you want but you didn’t listen to her. You hit her, you hurt her, you tortured her and then killed her.”

“If she was alive then I could not have approached here. I used her to get to you.” Sana still managed to smirk, “I wanted you from her and this whole royalty.”

He pressed Sana’s wound on the arm and she hissed. “You didn’t only use her to get here but also you used my brother’s feelings. You played with his emotions. I want to torture you like you did with her but my patience is gone. I just want to kill you right now. Right here!”

He raised his hand with the knife, blood dripping from all the wounds he created earlier. Sana closed her eyes when he was about to stab her on the chest but he paused.

Sana opened her eyes slowly and watched that he was still in his previous position. “Before I kill you. Just know one thing. She didn’t die because you have stabbed her. She died because she was betrayed by you whom she loved so much. Her twin sister killed her. She felt losing the war with herself.”

Those were the last words Sana heard before he stabbed her.

he stared at her hooded eyes, "from today I will believe that I have killed her because she left me. I have killed my y/n with my own hands." He repeated the action so many times that Seonghwa ran towards him and hugged him from behind, both were crying but neither of them knew how to comfort the other.

Seonghwa patted his back before standing up and called out the guards. No one would dare to say anything to anyone about this matter but his heart. He was staring at the body, blood oozing out from the heart, making a scar on the chest.

“Why you always kiss on the scar above my chest?” You asked him smilingly.

He again kissed you at the same place and nuzzled his face between your breasts, “it reminds me of the day we met. You saved me from the fire and got hurt. I will kiss it every day to let you know that this is not a scar but a seal to our bond, just above it is your heart beating for me.”

“For you, yuyu.” You planted a kiss on the top of his head.

For him.

“Yunho…” he heard a soft voice calling out his name, he didn’t look up but staring at the floor at his hands, he killed her. The blood on his hand felt like yours. The knife fell from his hand.

Did he kill her? Or you?

“Yuyu…” he looked up instantly. That name with that sweetness in the voice. You were standing in front of him. A sweet smile and sparkling eyes staring back at him, “you remembered me.”

“Y/n…you are really here?” He asked you in a shaky voice.

“No…” she approached him and kneeled down and held his shoulder, “but I want to say that I really love you. I still love you. I am here with you all the time. Don’t feel lonely. We are still together and I still love to see you smiling and laughing like before.”

“You are here. You are lying.”

“I’m here but to say the final goodbye. You promised me that if I die you will be the one to kill me and look you killed her because I left you. I should have said you everything but sorry. Let’s meet again in our next life.”

He grabbed the knife and attempted to cut his wrist when you held his hand, “don’t be stupid Yuyu.”

His body was aching for her touch but still her touch felt distant, just a wave of air. A piece of memory.

“No let me kill myself. I will meet you again and we will be with each other forever.”

“Please….Yunho…I am already far away from you now but don’t kill yourself. Stay for me. I couldn’t live enough to know the beauty of life but you will live for me so that you can tell me everything when we will meet again.”

“Y/n…. I can’t.”

“Yunho, please for me…” tears fell from her eyes “I will wait for you.”

Yunho kept his eyes open because he knew if he blinked a little, the worst sight he had to notice. You held your hand over his eyes and felt his wet eyes. You kissed his forehead “Goodbye…”

Yunho opened his eyes and tears flowed down his eyes, “y/n…”

You were nowhere. He was all alone in that grand place. It was all his imagination that he read in your last letter for him.

“Keep this locket with you. Even if I’m not with you then also I will feel you are safe with me. This will hang over the scar. I will shield it.”

He gifted you the locket but last day, you gave it back to him and that’s why maybe you died.

He killed you. You were always his. Your everything was his.

You were his to love. His to care. His to protect.

His to kill.

And he will live for you. In the end he was always yours since the day you saved him from the fire in your childhood.

[a reblog in appreciation and your reviews will be greatly appreciated. Please let me know if you liked it or not.]

Taglist: @mymoodwriting @justhere4kpop @anyamaris @yeoobin @icchyi @jwnghyuns @piratequeen-queenofgames @dinonuguaegi @oreharuuu @hwanring @sanwifesstuff @kiwiisnthereoops @kiwiraccoon @hyuukah @kazscara @aceofspadesbiofalltrades @nvdhrzn @ssrnghwa @bjojotpghzb @superbbananananana @sharksandminhos

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[zazter-den]

Foul-Mouthed Frit | Stained Glass Circumstances Ch. 1

Series: Snippet #1, Snippet #2, Current

Synopsis- All stained glass begins as frit, but you're not as frit of the warrior in front of you as you probably should be.(Main Scene: Bakugou, Aftercare: Kirishima).

Warnings- Coerced NonCon, Oral Knotting, CumVom, Choking, Clothes Tearing, Degradation, Overstim, Org Denial, Slap(giving), Forced Bond, King/Consort Dynamic, Alt A/B/O, Yandere Bakugou.

Tags- Fantasy AU, BarbarianKing!Bakugou, Dragon!Kirishima, KingConsort!Reader, Black Haired Reader, Isekai, Creampie, Chin Grab, Excessive Seed, Aftercare.

Word Count- 7700, Chapter 1

Your heart thumped against your ribs, unease and curiosity battling it out, as you stood before the imposing blond warrior. On a good day, you couldn't help but feel out of place in the simple hand-me-down dress, a one of few mercies you received from the cold villagers when you arrived. Standing here in front of the decorated barbarian within the confines of the grandiose war tent, you felt dressed in little more than rags. Was this man here to finish the villager's sad attempt at uprising? Surely non-lethal injuries to a handful of soldiers, even if severe, didn't warrant a general's (or whoever's) presence.

Why am I here? I wasn't even involved.

The bodice of the scratchy dress felt nearly too tight to breathe, a physical pressure to match the growing weight of dread settling in your bones. It had been a month since your watery arrival to this world, but it hadn't taken long to miss your modern clothes, modern stressors, and the familiarity of home. A pang of longing shot through you like a static shock, but you pushed it aside, focusing on the intimidating figure ahead.

A shiver ran down your spine as you met the blond's piercing blood red gaze. His throne, made from the bones of fallen beasts long dead and a patterned patchwork of leather, only amplified the imposing aura surrounding him. With each passing moment, you couldn't help but feel like a small, insignificant creature in the presence of a predator.

"Pint-sized for a dragon, aren't ya?" the barbarian growled, his gruff voice boomed in the tense silence, tone heavy with amused disdain. A predatory smirk adorned his face, highlighting his intimidating yet undeniably attractive features. "You're quite the fuckin' anomaly."

Your eyes widened at his words, and for a moment you forgot your unease. You had become so used to the weight by this point that you honestly almost forgot. A hand instinctively went to touch the base of the draconic crystal horns that jutted back from your hairline, a bizzarre feature you had woken to on the lake shore, a side effect of the magic that had forced your entry to this unfamiliar world.

All of the lakeside villagers were human, but you had learned enough about this world's inhabitants to know that that you weren't a true dragon like the ones the citizens of this realm were familiar with—those with wings, a tail, and true dragon features. You are, at your core, still human, and really the horns were the only evidence to suggest otherwise. The asshole wasn't entirely wrong in calling you a mystery.

"Can tell you're no real dragon, some sorta bastard maybe" he remarked, rumbly voice smug. "Though I admit, those crystal horns of yours are intriguing 'nough. You'll pass as an addition to my collection."

You blinked once, twice, as you struggled for a mere second to process the words coming out of the pompous man's mouth before time seemed to resume again.

Should you have been scared? Probably.

But you weren't.

Your eyes narrowed to near slits with incredulity as you peered up at him. White hot anger filled your veins, fear of the undoubtedly dangerous strange warrior forgotten. Being a newcomer to the realm, you couldn't quite comprehend the gravity of the situation in standing before the man in front of you. Being an outsider to the village and their rebellion, also meant you weren't aware yet just how low cowards will sink to save their own skin.

" 'Collection'? " You repeated, scoffing loudly at his arrogance. The gall of him had your nerves shot and common sense short circuiting. All pretenses of appearing as a polite peasant were now firmly out the window, all bets were off. After a month of biting your tongue to rude villagers as you struggled to adjust to your new life, it felt amazing to spit exactly what you were thinking. "Who the fuck do you think you are, blondie?”

The fair haired barbarian's grin only widened at your boldness, relishing the rare occurance. It wasn't often someone had a big enough death wish to challenge him face to face.

"O, sweetheart, not just any 'blondie'," he sneered, weighing the weight his words had on you. "I'm yer fuckin' king." Enjoying the way shock washed over your face, anger clearly forgotten, overshadowed by the realization that you were standing before the most dangerous man in the kingdom.

King Bakugou's amusement was evident as he leaned forward in his seat, his eyes gleaming with sadistic satisfaction at your dumbstruck face. "D'ya wanna know why you're standin' in front of me?" he asked, his tone dripping with condescension. "They offered ya to me, little anomaly," the barbaric royal continued, the corners of his lips curling into a cruel smile. "A barter for their miserable lives after a pitiful 'scuse of a rebellion."

You were shocked, your eyes meeting his with furious disbelief. "So, people I barely know, GAVE me to you to spare themselves?" your words were laced with anger and a sense of betrayal, unable to comprehend the depths of their craven desperation. Sure, they were cold to strangers, but to sacrifice you for their own lives wasn't something you had thought was even a possibility. Had it really been so foolish to want to believe they were finally warming up to you?

The barbarian king's expression hardened as he replied, his voice laced with a sharp edge. "Ya should feel honored," he snapped, his blood red eyes narrowing. Rising from his intimidating throne of giant bone and beast hide, he closed the distance between them with a purposeful stride. The sound of his heavy boots thudded against the packed ground within the war tent until he loomed over you.

“I rarely take consorts,” King Bakugou's hand shot out and firmly grasped your chin, tilting your head up to meet his piercing gaze. His touch was harsh, a firm reminder of the physical might that Bakugou wielded when he so chose. Your heart pounding in your chest as his fingernails dug into your jawline. Leaning in close, his face mere inches away from yours, his voice dropped to a low, dangerous rumble as he continued speaking. “especially not runt freaks like you." The disdain in the cold blooded king's tone sent a chill down your spine.

Your heart dropped, The weight of the revelation pressed heavy against your chest. Mind racing with anger and betrayal as you grappled with the harsh reality of your situation. You had only been in this unfamiliar realm for barely a few weeks and now you stood before the formidable barbarian king, a man who held the power of life and death over countless warriors and civilians alike.

It didn't take years of education, or really much common sense, to know the dangerous consequences of defying a medieval tyrant. You knew you had to keep your anger in check, to try to bite your tongue and submit. At least for now.

Your fate was sealed the moment you stepped into that fucking tent, and survival was now officially the priority.

King Bakugou's sadistic enjoyment of the situation was plain as he ruthlessly analyzed your appearance, his gaze lingering on the translucent crystal horns with an almost dismissive glance. "Yer horns are clear, nothin' special," he remarked, his voice dripping with annoyance. It was clear that your unique crystalline features held little significance in his opinion. However, as his eyes roamed down your body, a more sinister gleam sparked within them.

"Body, on the other hand, is fine enough for a concubine," the blond added with a twisted smirk, his grip on your chin tightening slightly. The shift of the dress' neckline sent a shiver down your spine, baring your shoulder to his inspection. Your heart beat faster as King Bakugou's piercing eyes bore into you, his actions invasive and dehumanizing. Your throat constricted in response to the humiliating position you found yourself in. Even having to resist the urge to pull your chin away from his grasp, knowing that defiance would only lead to suffering of some variety.

His eyes swept over your neck and shoulder, searching for any sign of a scar, any indication that you already belonged to another. You kept your gaze to the side, unnerved by the intensity of his bloody stare, a shiver rippled down your spine as his touch almost seemed to burn your skin.

"Good," he declared, a twisted smile tugging at his lips as his hot breath ghosting over the exposed skin. "No claim."

King Bakugou wasted no time in closing the remaining distance. Swiftly leaning down, he sank his canines into the smooth flesh with a forceful bite. However, unlike true mating, the barbaric blond did not release the necessary venom that would solidify an actual bond between souls.

The lack of numbing venom caused a sharp hiss to escape your lips, a mix of agony and indignation flooding your system. You might not have been here long and you certainly were no expert, but you knew the basics of mating marks, this world's lifelong courtship. It was a deliberate move, a clear reinforcement that he had no intentions of making you his equal partner in this arrangement. After all, you were merely a plaything, to be toyed with. You should be thankful not to be bound to the barbarian's soul, and yet you couldn't ignore the obvious insult. Or the pain.

The unexpected stabbing pain of fang sinking into flesh triggered a reflexive response, causing you to shove and slap Bakugou's face in a desperate attempt to free yourself from his grasp. The crack of your palm connecting with his cheek seemed to echo in the massive war tent, leaving a bright red handprint in its wake and a streak of crimson trailing down the king's chin.

The barbarian's eyes glowed with fierce delight, his feral nature taking enjoyment in the defiance of his new concubine. Despite the stinging pain in his cheek and the split in the corner of his upper lip from the strike, a low chuckle escaped King Bakugou's lips. "You've got guts, shitty horns, I'll give ya that much" he growled, his voice laced with a dark amusement as his tongue flicked over his split lip.

If you thought your heart was racing before, it certainly paled to the drumbeat it was pounding now.

You had dared to challenge the king, to strike him in a moment of instinct. If the tyrant himself marched to this village over a few maimed soldiers, what exactly was your punishment going to be? A part of you regretted the impulsive action, aware that it would only fuel the bestial nature of the tyrant and likely add to your own suffering...But another part of you couldn't suppress the thrill that surged through you when you slapped the shit out of him. You might be trapped in this new situation but you refused to be completely meek, cowering at his feet.

You would submit. But only as much as you had to.

As King Bakugou's wicked chuckle echoed in the confines of the tent, he swiped away the droplets of blood that trickled down his split lip, relishing in the taste. "Spirited whore, ha?" he continued with a dangerous glint in his eyes. "You'll learn. 'Til then, I'm gonna enjoy breaking that attitude of yours."

Your breathing grew shallow as you just stared at the king, mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. You knew full well that true defiance would only bring more challenges, but still a small ember of resistance burned. You would not surrender completely, no matter the threat. And even bolstered with the courage of the dissociative haze that emotionally numbed you to the consequences of your actions, you still knew the danger was very real.

The red glistening imprint of his bite marked your delicate skin, a reminder of his sadistic tendencies and the cruel pleasure he derived from such acts. Your body trembled in frustration, mind grappling with the complex storm of emotions that threatened to take over reason. You may have to play the role forced on you but you would bide your time, until the opportunity presented itself.

And so began the balancing act.

"Your position, in this territory," the warrior king continued, his voice dripping with gruff superiority, "is t'be at my beck and call. You exist to serve my needs now, like any other fuckin' whore. An' rest assured, you will serve me well." With those words, he spun you around and pressed your abdomen hard against the tent's solid wood table, his hands gripping your hips possessively.

"Lemme show you your new role," Bakugou sneered, voice filled with dark promise. With one swift motion, he pulled the rough dress up to rest on your hips, baring your body to his gaze. His eyes hungrily took in your curves, his fingers ran up the exposed skin of your thighs and hips. Feeling his rough fingers trail over the sensitive areas of your thighs, you could feel yourself getting lost in the intensity of the touch.

The sound of fabric tearing filled the air as King Bakugou ripped apart the too-tight bodice, buttons popping off as your breasts spilled free from the barely reinforced fabric. His knees pressed painfully firm against the back of yours, effortlessly spreading your shaky legs apart. The motion trapped your hips against the edge of the table and exposed your pussy to to his gaze. Breath hitched as you felt the large tip of his hardened cock pressing against your slick entrance. Every inch of your body tensed. Judging from the thickness of his head alone, the lean warrior was larger than you expected him to be. Bakugou's girth tested your cunt's limits, forced to stretch wide. Initial entry was rough, inch by inch, as your pussy's tight walls struggled to accommodate the impressive length of the barbaric king's dick. The pleasurable ache making you fight to maintain composure.

Leaning forward on your forearms for support, your chest squished against the cold surface of the table. Fingernails dug into the smooth wood, your knuckles turning white with each of Bakugou's punishing thrusts. An unexpected surge of arousal coursed through your veins, and you decided to embrace the inevitable pleasure that his pace promised to bring.

Despite your feelings on the turn of events, your body responded to his coarse treatment, for the distracting orgasm and mind-numbing hormones that lay tantalizingly within reach. Determined to find some semblance of pleasure within your new prison, you forced yourself to shift your perspective. If you were going to be forced to be an object of desire, you may as well revel in the physical gratification it offered and claw back any benefit you could until you made your move.

As the table rocked against the packed dirt floor of the tent with each forceful thrust, the warrior royal couldn't resist mocking you. His voice was filled sadistic amusement. "Where'd all that fire go?" he taunted, amused by the contrast between your previous defiance and your current submissive state. "Don't tell me I already fucked it out of ya."

Your aching walls had struggled to accommodate his girth initially, causing you to tense up. You had to focus on consciously relaxing your body, allowing him to fuck you with more ease. The mixture of discomfort and increasing pleasure sent waves of heat coursing through your body, intensifying your arousal. At this point, you couldn't tell whether the fact that rough sex made your cunt leak like a faucet was a pro or a con.

You really couldn't help but snap back, voice loaded with a defiant edge. "You really like the sound of your own voice, huh, 'Your Highness'?" you quipped harshly, rolling your eyes knowing he would be unable to see, as you were swept up by the overwhelming pleasure of being fucked against the table.

Undeterred by your attempt at disrespect, Bakugou leaned forward over your bare back, his lips grazing the shell of your ear. The warrior king's voice dripped with amusement as he addressed your lack of fear. "You're really not scared of me, are ya?" the blond chuckled sharply, the feeling of his hot breath against your skin sending shivers down your spine. "Give it time," he sneered, his grip on your erect nipples tightening as he pinched and pulled. With a choked moan, your body arched instinctively in response, a symphony of conflicting sensations flooding your body.

Your black curls bounced with each punishing thrust, your body pressed against the dull edge of the table, the hard surface digging into your hips with a force that promised to leave bruised reminders of your afternoon in the days to come. The brutal intensity behind Bakugou's movements overwhelmed you, leaving you breathless and at his mercy.

Just when you thought you had found a rhythm, just when you though you were getting close to finally cumming- the royal bastard abruptly withdrew, his cock's sizeable head dragging along the walls of your dripping passage. A soft indignant gasp escaped your lips as the sudden emptiness left you yearning for release. Inner walls involuntarily clenched in a futile attempt to hold onto the fleeting pleasure, not that you would ever admit it out loud.

He took a moment to enjoy your needy frustration before thrusting back inside with renewed intensity. Each powerful movement caused your body to arch and quiver in response, teetering on the razor's edge between ecstasy and torment. Despite the lingering defiance in your heart, your cunt betrayed you, subconsciously craving the pleasure that Bakugou pounded into you. The aching bite at the junction of your neck felt hot, as your nipples squeezed between his vice-like fingers.

Your walls eagerly embraced the renewed pounding, tightening around him in a desperate attempt to hold onto the pleasure he provided. The overwhelming mixture of pain and pleasure sent shockwaves through your body, sparking sensations that threatened to consume entirely. As the table creaked under the combined weight, your gasps and moans filled the air, merging with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh and groaning wood. The intensity of the king's pace, each thrust pushing you closer to cumming around the thick cock slamming in and out of your needy hole.

As your body neared the peak of pleasure, King Bakugou enjoyed the control he had over you, keeping that orgasm just out of reach. Each time you felt the pleasure building within you reach that breaking point, he would cruelly withdraw, denying you much needed relief. The frustration reached a boiling point,as your walls involuntarily clenched desperately around the thick ridge of his cockhead in a feeble attempt to keep it inside.

"Stop fucking teasing me!" you shot over your shoulder in irritation. The pleasure that coursed through your veins was distracting, clouding your mind and amplifying your need to cum. The denial of your orgasm left you on the edge in what felt like a perpetual state of yearning, body aching for the release that the feral blond held in his cruel grasp.

As King Bakugou repositioned himself, angling his thrusts to target your most sensitive spots, and the pleasurable torment of denial continued. The conflicting sensations pushed you further towards either heaven or hell. With how your legs trembled with both the overstimulation of your poor pussy's stretched walls and the unbearable need to cum, you weren't sure which you were closer to.

"Ha? Think ya forgot who serves who here," bloody eyes narrowing as he sneered, his arrogant tone held an unrestrained hunger. A wicked grin tugged at the corners of his lips as he drank in your frustration. He took great sadistic pleasure in this game. Knowing that, despite your protests, he had the power to bring you to the edge of cumming and keep. You. Trapped. There.

As the twisted dance between pleasure and denial continued, your body reacted eagerly to every movement, cunt walls fluttering near constantly in desperate need of fulfillment. Each time King Bakugou withdrew, your inner muscles clenched around the massive disappearing tip, another futile attempt to hold onto the pleasure that slipped through your grasp.

Wet, squelching sounds filled the air as he pounded back into your gushing pussy. The table beneath you was sticky with your juices, and his blood red gaze spotted a string of viscous slick suspended mid-air between the edge of the table and the packed dirt floor below.

With each turn of Bakugou's cruel cycle, a symphony of profanity spilled from your parted lips. Your body shook with the weight of unfulfilled lust, aching for the relief that seemed cruelly just out of reach. The rise and fall of your emotions danced in harmony with the motion of their bodies, humiliating frustration fueling your foul mouthed whimpers.

"'N fact," Bakugou laughed, gruff voice filled with sadistic glee, "I think that tongue o' yours has earned ya a punishment."

The barbarian's fingers curled around your quartz horns, his grip possessive and firm. As his grip tightened, you barely felt the dull ache spreading from the base of your horns through the haze of pleasure and overstimulation. The strain on your neck was evident, your head tilted back to reveal the garnet red bite print marring your exposed skin.

With a deliberate slowness, King Bakugou pulled back on your crystalline horns, his hold firmly guiding you until your upper body was no longer supported by the table's wooden surface. Weakened by the cruel cycle of ecstasy and denial imposed on you, your legs trembled with the effort to remain upright. The shift in position caused a head rush as you fought to remain standing upright. Turns out, you wouldn't need to fight that battle for long.

Using your horns as a guide, Bakugou yanked you down to kneel before him. Obediently following his command, your weakened knees sunk against the hard packed dirt beneath you. The shift in posture brought about a new level of submission, body now positioned at his feet, ready to fulfill the king's desires.

Bakugou's massive member hung heavy above you, his imposing figure towering over as he peered down with cruel superiority. "Ever get your mouth washed out with soap?" he sneered, a wicked grin stretching across his face.

With a snarky retort already forming on the tip of your tongue, you opened your mouth to deliver a biting response. However, in that moment of distraction, the massive cock head shoved past your lips, the sudden intrusion catching you off-guard. A muffled gag sound escaped your throat, eyes widening in surprise as King Bakugou claimed your mouth with little mercy. Musk filled your senses, the unexpected violation left you momentarily stunned. Your eyes watered as you struggled to accommodate his size, jaw stretched to its limits while King Bakugou hissed in pleasure at the feel of your hot tongue against his dick.

A gasp of surprise escaped your lips, muffled by Bakugou's large cock as he took advantage of the opening you unwittingly provided and began to thrust. The rough motion caused your tongue to press against the underside of the massive member, tasting both of you. The initial shock gave way to a mix of conflicting sensations - humiliation, arousal, and a begrudging surrender.

Your throat constricted around the tip of his dick as you fought against your body's instinctive gag reflex. The taste of your combined arousal filled your mouth, the combination of his precum and your own slick coating your tongue with every thrust. With each attempt, guided by the iron grip he held on your crystalline horns, you managed to swallow a little more of his length, throat stretching in an attempt to accommodate his girth. The barbaric king's control remained unyielding. He roughly guided your movements with an unwavering grip on your horns, forcing the pace at which you took him deeper. The sight of your struggle only made him grip you tighter, setting a faster pace.

You looked good, all fuckdrunk at his feet, submitting to his desires without question.

With each inch you took down your throat, your breathing became increasingly labored. Your eyes flitted upwards as much as possible, trying to meet his gaze as you continued to obey his every command. Teary eyes pleaded for mercy, yearning for the release that was just out of reach, as you continued to let King Bakugou's thrust into your throat. Bakugou locked gazes with you. It wasn't that he ignored your pitiful puppy eyes, all watery and unfocused, but it didn't certainly have the outcome you were begging for. His pace sped up, his thrusts becoming more urgent as he approached his climax.

Your eyes narrowed in confusion and as you felt a new ridge near the base of his cock begin to swell. It took you by surprise, lips forced to start to form an O-shape as you struggled to comprehend what was happening. You mumbled uselessly around the resulting barrier, only managing to press your tongue harder against the enlarged gland.

"Never seen an alpha before?" King Bakugou asked incredulously, the tone of his voice heavy with pompous amusement. "Ya really are a fuckin' freak, this'll be fun" he added, sadistically excited for the surprise in store for you.

The swelling knot created a tight seal against your teeth, effectively trapping your tongue in a frenzy of desperate, frantic movements. As his lust hit a peak, Bakugou looked down at you with dark satisfaction, the intensity of his gaze piercing into your very being. His words cut through the pounding of blood in your ears, his mean grin widening.

"Y're gonna want to breathe through your nose when ya can," he instructed as his hips started to stutter, cruel grin never faltering. "For the next ten minutes at least." He took great joy in the power he held over you, knowing full well the challenge he was about to present. His groans of pleasure were the only warning of his orgasm that you got besides the pulse of his knot, before waves of warm cum were cascading down your throat. You fought against the rising panic, you just needed to relax you told yourself. The taste of his seed flooded the back of your throat, your lips stretched around his swollen knot, as you braced yourself to endure the minutes to come.

Your breathing grew ragged as you tried to comply with the barbaric king's instruction, the pressure of his spurts down your throat sending your body into a state of sensory overload. Each surge of his cum filled the back of your mouth, forcing you to swallow to make room for more, so you wouldn't be overwhelmed. Nose pressed against the coarse, orange wires of his pubic hair, your breaths coming in short gasps as you struggled to find enough air.

Your sore throat bobbed with each gulp, lips sealed tightly around Bakugou's pulsing knot. You followed his instructions, taking quick breaths through flared nostrils whenever his spurts allowed a moment of respite. As you continued to swallow the seemingly never-ending load, your eyes watered and throat contracted around the royal's throbbing cock. Bakugou ran his thumb over your neck, tracing over the ridge his twitching cockhead made in your throat, causing you to choke and sputter, your reflexive gag wrapped around his dick.

The primal sounds of you gagging and swallowing seemed to fuel Bakugou, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he reveled in your struggle to regain control of your reflexes. He found the cruel game fun, knowing that you had to drink every single drop or be overwhelmed by the seed that filled your mouth. As the barbaric king rolled his hips, his cock milked one last time by your tight walls, the deflating knot slipped past your teeth with a squelching pop. You felt each inch slowly withdraw from your pained throat, eliciting a mix of both relief and a weird sense of emptiness. Your jaw ached from the strain, throat raw and bruised from the rough treatment. Cum dripped from your swollen lips, a shiny string dripping towards the ground between your knees.

You leaned back against the leg of the heavy table, body boneless and weak from the intense sex. Your chest heaved with each ragged breath, senses still reeling from the experience. The taste of his cum still lingered in your mouth, a reminder of of just how well you had performed your role.

His cruel grin twisted with satisfaction as he held your weak chin with his thumb and pointer finger, tilting your glassy gaze to meet his blood red eyes. The arrogance in his voice was evident as he spoke, his words laced with a mocking tone.

"You did well, little whore," King Bakugou taunted, "Maybe you'll last longer than the others." His words cut through you like a knife, a reminder of your place and his complete control over the situation.

And it only got worse.

Your stomach churned, the fullness from consuming the sheer volume of cum you did, mixed with the exhaustion and strain on your body. It was rapidly becoming too much to bear. The taste of his bitter seed lingered in your mouth, adding to the increasing waves of nausea that welled up. With shaky legs, you bolted towards the clean bucket next to the table, a hand clamped over your mouth. Face contorted in anguish as you reached it just in time, hunching over and emptying the viscous contents of your stomach into the wood container, a curtain of dark curls obscuring the action.

Wave after wave of white, thick cum splashed into the bucket. Your throat burned even more from the forceful expulsion, tears streaming down your face as you tried to catch your breath between stomach spasms and hiccups.

Meanwhile, Bakugou simply rolled his crimson eyes in annoyance. He watched with a scowl as you succumbed to the ill effects of being orally knotted for first time, his own sense of satisfaction completely unaffected. The king redressed himself in his leather breeches, his muscular chest displayed proudly. He made no move to help or console you, instead commenting with a disdainful tone

"Y're gonna have to get better at that," he sneered, his dissatisfaction with the newest addition to his collection clear as day. Without a backward glance, he exited the tent, leaving you seething with roiling resentment.

As you continued to glare daggers at his retreating back over the rim of the bucket, an unbreakable determination burned in your eyes. The interaction had further solidified your disdain for the barbarian king. One way or another, you swore to yourself, you were going to find a way to make that man miserable.

Bakugou made his way through the field, his strides thudding quickly across the field. His blood red eyes scanned the surroundings, taking in the lush greenery and wind rustling through the grass and leaves. In the distance, he spotted Captain Kirishima, his towering figure standing tall on a hill overlooking the lake.

The captain of the king's guard, tall and muscular, wore his signature dark grey uniform adorned with a crimson cloak denoting his station. His mane of long, vibrant red hair cascaded down his back, and his curved ruby horns glinted in the late afternoon light. Nearing a staggering seven feet, Kirishima towered over most humans and dragons alike. With a languid stretch of his wings and tail, he looked every bit the formidable dragon he was. Even though his stature was imposing- off the battlefield, there was a softness to his facial features, a warmth in his scarlet eyes that contradicted his formidable appearance.

Stretching his wings and tail with a contented yawn, Kirishima paused mid-spread as he noticed his long time friend approaching. His scarlet eyes widened in alarmed confusion as he caught sight of the split upper lip on the king's face.

"What happened to your lip?" Kirishima asked baffled, his tail and wings still unintentionally frozen extended as he waited.

Bakugou's grin widened, his blood-red eyes shining with a mischievous glint. He licked his split upper lip, savoring the sting that still lingered from your bold and unexpected slap. The memory of the defiance brought a twisted satisfaction to the king.

"Hah! The village's 'peace offering' turned out fiesty" he responded, a hint of admiration laced within his tone. The fact that you had the audacity to strike him, the mighty Murder King Bakugou, had caught the barbarian off guard at the time, but it definitely made you more interesting.

Kirishima's eyebrows furrowed in surprise, his tail flicking. "They attacked you?" he asked taken aback, “Are they still breathing?” The captain knew that the barbaric ruler was not one to tolerate defiance easily, let alone physical attempts to challenge his authority. Kirishima's mind flooded with questions, but he kept them to himself as he awaited further explanation from his commanding king.

Bakugou's smug grin widened even further, his blood red eyes sparkling with perverse delight. "Oh, they're alive," he responded, his voice dripping with a sadistic satisfaction, "Just paying for their little outburst, that's all."

The words hung in the air, the implication clear. The king's tone hinted at the punishment the new consort was enduring in the privacy of the tent.

Although he hadn't yet met the new concubine, Kirishima couldn't help but feel a pang of empathy towards them. Having grown up with the royal, he knew firsthand the levels of wrath Bakugou could reach. Despite these conflicting emotions, Kirishima's primary concern was ensuring the well-being of those in the king's care, even if it meant treading carefully in the sea of Bakugou's own volatile temper. It often fell to the loyal captain to keep the king from committing actions he would regret later. Well, less regret and more inconvenience him.

"'n fact, you're on babysitting duty while I deal with the village," Bakugou said, the murderous glint in his bloody eyes betraying his enjoyment of the situation. The king's command echoed in Kirishima's ears, causing his ruby scaled tail to stiffen and his broad shoulders to tense.

Kirishima let out a silent exhale, disappointment etched across his face as he processed the news. In truth, he had hoped that Bakugou would choose to spare the villagers and seek a peaceful resolution instead of resorting to violence. The captain believed that the actions of a few rebels should not warrant bloodshed on such a scale. After all, the villagers had made multiple peace offerings to appease the barbaric king, it felt like a breach of honor for Bakugou to now go back on that agreement.

However, Kirishima knew better than to openly challenge his friend's authority. He respected the position Bakugou held and understood the consequences of rebellion. Biting his tongue, Kirishima buried his disappointment and gave a casual bow to his commanding ruler, before making his way towards the tent on the hilltop.

Kirishima stepped into the large tent, his unfurled wings brushing against the side as he entered. His wings, magnificent and majestic, spanned wide, their vibrant ruby scales shimmering under the soft glow of the tent's filtered light. The ruby scales continued down the length of his long, sinuous tail, adding a touch of elegance to his formidable presence.

As his fiery ruby eyes landed on you, Kirishima's first thought was one of surprise. The person who had struck King Bakugou looked a lot less imposing than he had anticipated. You, unlike the powerful and intimidating dragons Kirishima was used to, stood before him at a mere average human stature. If that. The only discernible dragon feature you possessed were the crystal dragon horns that adorned your head, gleaming subtly in the low lit tent. His scaled tail swayed slightly, displaying a mix of curiosity and caution.

Your eyes widened as they met Kirishima's for the first time, and your body tensed instinctively. You had been thoroughly exhausted, both physically and emotionally, by your round with Bakugou. Your throat was raw and voice gone, leaving you unable to deliver the defiant expletives you desperately wanted to snarl at the imposing dragon that had just entered the tent. But your voice failed you, leaving you with only one avenue of expression.

With a fierce hiss, you expelled every ounce of ferocity you had left buried within. Your body tensed, lips curling back in a display of bare teeth. The hiss reverberated within the confines of the tent, a desperate attempt to communicate defiance to Kirishima, to convey that you would not be dominated or humiliated any further today.

The captain took a step back, scarlet eyes swept over your form, they couldn't help but notice the torn remnants of your bodice on the floor and the ripped dress clinging to your body. The rips and tears spoke volumes of the intense encounter you had undergone at the hands of King Bakugou. His gaze then landed on the mark that marred the delicate skin of your neck—an unmistakable claim.

Kirishima's eyebrows shot up in surprise, his mind reeling with the implications.

As a dragon, Kirishima understood the significance of such a bite - it bound two souls together, sealing their connection as life partners in a way that couldn't be severed. When done correctly.

Marking a consort with a claim without fully mating them was not unheard of, but it was generally met with extreme judgment. Claims in terms of mating were typically reserved for life partners, a commitment that extended beyond physical desire. Nobles, known for their fickle nature and ever-shifting loyalties, often chose to mark their consorts with more temporary symbols, such as collars.

The ornate collars allowed the royals to easily discard their concubines when they grew bored. The nobility were notorious for their fickleness and often left their consorts behind as they moved on to fresh pursuits. By marking a consort with a bite with no intention of making you an equal, Bakugou had not only defied what little merciful convention held by the upper class but also inflicted a cruel fate upon you in Kirishima's eyes. The mark would make it near impossible for you to find a true mate, forever branded as the king's property.

Kirishima couldn't help but feel a stab of disappointment towards his lifelong friend. While he knew the barbarian ruler's tendencies on the battlefield, he hadn't thought Bakugou would exhibit such cruelty towards a consort, knowing you would likely be discarded at some point. Kirishima's own sense of honor and loyalty clashed with the conflicting emotions he felt, itching at the back of his mind as he observed the vulnerable state you found yourself in.

The captain's gaze lingered on your throat, noticing the subtle signs of strain and discomfort. The realization for the hissing aggression struck Kirishima like a bolt of lightning. You had lost your voice, and it wasn't due to natural causes or illness. No, it became clear to him that it was likely a result of your first tryst with King Bakugou, an experience that he could only imagine had been rough and brutal, throat rubbed raw from the repetitive acts demanded of you.

Feeling a surge of empathy, Captain Kirishima decided to ease the intimidating aura he unintentionally projected. He understood that his imposing stature must be overwhelming to you, given the turn of events. He folded his wings against his back, their vibrant red membranes pressed tightly together, confining their expansive span. The act served to minimize his physical presence, making him appear less threatening. He slouched slightly, adopting a more relaxed stance, and kept his hands visible, showing that he meant no harm. It was a deliberate display of non-aggression, aimed at putting you at ease, or at least as much at ease as one could be in such circumstances.

The red dragon's eyes softened as he noticed the weary look on your face. He could see the exhaustion etched into every line, body still trembling from the recent ordeals you had endured. Determined to offer some solace in this tumultuous situation, he decided to take matters into his own hands.

With slow deliberate steps, Kirishima moved away from you and towards a pile of chests near the entrance of the war tent. These chests contained spoils from the village, items meant to appease the king after their attack on his soldiers. Kirishima knew that among them, there was a chest filled with garments. Opening one of the chests, he carefully sifted through the contents until he found a fine yet simple dress that roughly matched your size.

A small smile tugged at the corners of Kirishima's lips as he gently tossed the dress onto the table, positioning it between the tow of you. Its delicate fabric fluttering in the air before settling down over the wood. It was a small gesture, but meant to convey that he harbored no ill intentions.

It was a silent message that you deserved respect and dignity, even in this tumultuous situation.

Sensing that you needed some space to collect yourself and change, Kirishima took a much smaller chest from the pile. He left the tent, giving you room to breathe and reckon with the pent-up emotions that surely swirled like storm clouds.

As the cool mountain breeze blew through his hair, Kirishima found a suitable spot a few paces from the tent, overlooking the serene lake in the warm hues of late afternoon light. With deftness and precision, he constructed a small firepit, arranging the rocks in a circle. As the dragon exhaled softly, a gentle stream of fire escaped his lips, the light glinting off his curved ruby horns. The flickering flames danced and crackled, casting a comforting glow over the hilltop.

As the captain patiently waited for the water to heat, he glanced back towards the war tent, briefly catching sparkle of your horns through the opening. His heart went out to you. Though he understood the gravity of Bakugou's actions, Kirishima couldn't help but feel a creeping sense of responsibility in making sure you felt as comfortable as possible, despite the circumstances.

Just as the water in the kettle neared boiling, Kirishima activated his innate talent. His hands hardened, gaining an impressive durability that allowed him to handle the intense heat without harm. With a swift motion, he reached for the kettle, hands possessing the resilience of a dragon's scales. His grip was confident and steady as he effortlessly removed the kettle from the fire, preventing the water from boiling. He gently tossed the healing tea leaves into the kettle, watching as they swirled and danced in the near-boiling water. The soothing aroma of the tea began to waft through the air, carrying with it hints of delicate flowers and calming herbs.

With a careful hand, Kirishima reached into the tea chest, procuring a magnificent stained glass teacup that shimmered in hues of red and amber. Draconic stained glass was a rarity, prized for its strength and ethereal beauty. The light of the late sun cascaded through the vibrant colors, casting an enchanting glow on his hands.

Unwrapping the glass bottles, the captain uncorked the crystallized honey and yuzu peel. He slowly poured a generous amount of honey into the teacup, its golden texture illuminated by the sunlight. Next, he added a pinch of the fragrant dried yuzu peel, allowing its subtly sweet and citrusy scent to infuse the air. These ingredients held healing properties, meant to soothe and restore vitality to worn souls. The captain took extra care, ensuring that the precise balance of ingredients was met, creating a concoction that he hoped would bring some measure of comfort to your weary spirit.

With a quiet exhale, Kirishima patiently awaited the completion of the tea's steeping process. He hoped that the healing properties of the tea, combined with the warmth and tranquility of their surroundings, would provide a much-needed respite for your body and mind. In this moment of quiet reflection, he couldn't help but hope that this small act of kindness would bring some solace amidst the chaos that was now your new life in royal confines.

As the tantalizing fragrance of the healing tea filled the air, it didn't take long for you to emerge from the confines of the tent, eyes cautiously studying Kirishima's every move. Clad in the simple yet elegant dress he had provided you, features betraying a mix of cautious curiosity, before you fully exited the tent.

Scarlet eyes met yours as he poured the infused brew into the stained-glass teacup, the colors of the evening sun casting a mesmerizing glow through its amber and red hues. With a delicate touch, he extended the teacup towards you, his gentle gesture offering a sense of peace and comfort amongst the chaos.

Your gaze flickered between the beautiful teacup in Kirishima's hands and his eyes, wariness slowly giving way to a glimmer of trust. You lowered yourself onto the cushion placed by the fire, its warmth seeping through the fabric and into your tired body. Settling in, you positioned yourself to face the serene vista of the lake, where the calm waters mirrored the vibrant shades of the setting sun.

Kirishima, mindful of your nervous vigilance, kept his movements steady and reassuring. His hand extended further, confidently offering you the teacup of healing brew. The crimson colored light filtering through the stained glass seemed to dance and flicker as if carrying with it a promise of respite.

A soft smile tugged at Kirishima's lips as he spoke, his voice gentle yet filled with earnest sincerity. "Can we start over? I'm Captain Kirishima." In that simple statement, he hoped to convey that he was not just a guard but someone who, at their heart, genuinely cared. Someone who would listen and support you, should you choose to share your burdens.

He waited patiently, the teacup held delicately between the two of you, awaiting your response. In this moment, amidst the tranquil beauty of the lake and the tender offering of healing tea, he hoped that they could find a glimmer of solace and a fresh beginning.

IRL Safety Disclaimer: Never Pull A Partner Up By Their Hair Off of a Surface. You Will Injure Someone.

Taglist: @themythicaldisaster

Comments and Reblogs carry me through the week!

#please mind the tags cause I did say this series would be dark #I hope you enjoy x.x #zaz drabbles #minors dni #banners by the amazing cafekitsune #kirishima eijiro x reader #kirishima x reader #dragon kirishima #dragon!kirishima #bnha fantasy au #mha fantasy au #bnha x reader #mha x reader #barbarian bakugou #barbarian bakugo x reader #yandere x reader #yandere bnha #yandere mha #yandere bakugou #yandere bakugo x reader #alpha bakugou #yandere kiribaku #cw choking #kiribaku x reader #cw noncon #alpha kirishima #cw a/b/o #cw dark content #stained glass circumstances series

[allthecanadianpolitics]

A high-profile Cree lawyer from Saskatchewan is calling for residential school denialism to be added to the Criminal Code alongside Holocaust denialism, in the wake of a recent interim report by Canada's special interlocutor on missing children and unmarked graves.

"It's the same," lawyer Eleanore Sunchild told CBC News.

"If you deny that that happened — if you deny the whole residential school system and its impact on Indigenous people and the trauma that was created from those schools and the deaths — then, of course, it should be seen as hate speech."

Under section 319 of the criminal code, the wilful promotion of hatred or antisemitism, unless in a private conversation, could lead to up to two years in prison. This includes "condoning, denying or downplaying the Holocaust."

Full article

Tagging: @politicsofcanada

#cdnpoli #canadian politics #canada #canadian news #canadian #residential schools #holocaust #holocaust denial #residential school denial #residential schools tw #holocaust tw

[anon1nn1t]

please give me everything u can fit in a post about Mr snapchat NSFW and SFW I am DESPERATE it is so hard to find genuine hcs about him he's so over looked >;((

also just found ur account and am in love with everything u have written so far mate can't wait to see more from you, take care of yourself today!!

Stop this is so kind. 🥹🫶 And you’re so right about Sapnap being over looked !! But don’t worry, I’ve got your back. :) Just like my George hcs, I wil add more to this over time. * Also, to the person who sent the ask about Dream, I’m working on it !! *

Feel free to request !

SFW:

He’s actually such a sleepyhead.

He’s always hunting you down to ask you to cuddle with him so he can take a nap, falling asleep against your shoulder/knee whenever you’re busy.

Sure, he can sleep without you, but if he has the choice, he will always choose to sleep with you in his presence, since it helps him sleep better.

Secretly has so many pictures of you sleeping.

He’s sooo clingy

Constantly kissing you, hugging you, touching you in every way he possibly can.

But as clingy as he is, he knows when he needs to give you some space.

He has some major jealousy issues.

If any man other than him simply looks at you, he will give him a death stare, squeezing your thigh, wrapping his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

It’s not that he doesn't trust you; of course he does; he’s just possessive. You’re his and his only, and he wants everybody to know it.

Constant fake fighting between the two of you.

But if he ever accidentally actually hurt you? He would be an apologizing mess, begging for your forgiveness, when in reality, you were holding back laughter from how hard he was trying when in reality you didn’t care as much as he thought you did.

As we know, Sapnap has a few insecurities, so I feel like he would need a bit of reassurance sometimes.

He would just randomly ask you questions that you always answered the same

"What’s your favorite thing about me?"

"How much do you love me on scale from 1-10?"

"Why are you with me?"

Please just remind him how much you love him.

Hate to break it to you, but he’s definitely a little bitch during fights.

And if you ever tried to kiss him or hug him mid-argument? Ohhh man.

If y’all were to ever get in a fight, just leave him alone. Literally, just walk off; it’s for the best.

He gets angered pretty easily, as we know, so basically just don’t piss him off.

He doesn’t mind pda at all. He doesn't even realize it’s something that some people don't like because it feels so normal to him.

He bases his mood off of yours. Not even on purpose; it just comes naturally.

You’re having a bad day? He’s having a bad day. You’re having the best day of your life? He’s having the best day of his life.

He spoils you so much, maybe even too much.

Anything and everything you want, he will get for you. It eventually gets to the point where you have to stop pointing out stuff you want because he buys it every. time.

He loves loves loves when you wear his clothes.

"Is that my hoodie?"

"Yes, when is it not."

"Is it hot in here, or is it just me?"

"It’s just you."

He also loves when you wear dresses/skirts.

He absolutely adores showering with you. Every time you shower together, he’s wishing he could stay in that moment forever and ever.

Late night drives with blasting music ?!?! Instant yes.

Speaking of music, it’s definitely a huge green flag for him if you like his music taste.

He will do everything in his power to protect you and keep you safe.

NSFW:

Do I even need to say he’s dominant ?!

If you ever seriously wanted to try being dominant, he would let you, but it would be followed up right after with him taking over.

I feel like he has a lottt of kinks.

Dirty talk, discipline, humiliation, teasing, overstimulation, daddy kink, orgasm control/denial, etc.

Ass guy 100%

Loves loves loves eating you out.

He loves your thighs so much oh my god 😵‍💫

Continuing off that, he loves to cum on your thighs or inside of you.

Gives you so many markings just to remind you you’re all his.

He’s so rough with you, he just has to give you the sweetest aftercare. :)

I feel like the only times he’d be gentle are early in the morning, late at night, or if one of you needed some comfort.

He totally kisses you the whole time, sloppy kisses, but still kisses.

He would much rather focus on your pleasure than his. You being pleasured brings him pleasure.

His favorite position is either doggy style or reverse cowgirl.

PUBLIC SEX HOLY SHIT …

Every time before he’s about to do something new he will ask you if it’s okay. Ex: Moving from giving you hickeys to eating you out, moving from eating you out to fucking you, etc.

I actually don’t think he’s that experienced…

When you’re not around, he will totally jack off to pictures of you. He has no shame about it.

I feel like he only goes for one or two rounds.

Oh, how he loves to get his hair pulled.

He also loves to be praised so much oh my god.

Overall, he is pretty dominant, but focuses on you more than himself. <3

#dreamsmp #sapnap #sapnap smut #sapnap x reader smut #sapnap x reader #sapnap x you #mcyt smut #mcyt x reader smut #sapnap hcs #sapnap headcanons #dsmp smut

[hihhasotherfixations]

-Kinktober 2023 prompt list:

This is a list made by @the-purity-pen so thank you thank you 🛐

I will do my best to get a fic/drabble out every day but if I fail, I apologise - they will come later. Some of these have 2 options and as far as I’m concerned, you can vote on which one you want, just send an ask or comment :3

I am splitting this over my 2 blogs. I wil write for both Jotaro Kujo (JJBA) and John Price (CoD), alternating between them each day. I am also posting this list twice, one on each blog, so if you are just here for Price do not fret, you can comment on this specific list about just him to your heart’s content :3

These will be both au’s and regular canon content, whichever my brain comes up with an idea for ^^

This post will serve as a masterlist as well

Day 1 - 69 / dirty talk - Jotaro

Day 2 - A/B/O / Floor sex - Price

Day 3 - Glove kink - Jotaro

Day 4 - Breath play / Missionary - Price

Day 5 - Breeding / Leather/latex - Jotaro

Day 6 - Cockwarming / Morning sex - Price

Day 7 - Sex toys - Jotaro

Day 8 - Creampie / Voice kink - Price

Day 9 - Stripping - Jotaro

Day 10 - Drunk sex / Spanking - Price

Day 11 - Erotic photos - Jotaro

Day 12 - Exhibitionism / Hate/angry sex - Price

Day 13 - Face sitting / Dry humping - Jotaro

Day 14 - Love bites/marks - Price

Day 15 - Overstimulation - Jotaro

Day 16 - Bath/shower sex - Price

Day 17 - Licking - Jotaro

Day 18 - Bondage / Lingerie - Price

Day 19 - Masturbation - Jotaro

Day 20 - Mirror sex - Price

Day 21 - Praise kink - Jotaro

Day 22 - Phone sex - Price

Day 23 - Orgasm denial - Jotaro

Day 24 - Outdoor sex / Tender sex - Price

Day 25 - Sex pollen - Jotaro

Day 26 - Sex pollen - Price

Day 27 - Sensory deprivation / Stockings - Jotaro

Day 28 - Formal wear - Price

Day 29 - Body worship / Table sex - Jotaro

Day 30 - Public sex / Temperature play - Price

Day 31 - Free choice - Both get a fic

Price - Dry humping

Jotaro - (No subject yet)

For the last day, feel free to send in ideas! Or maybe there was a prompt given to the other character or skipped that you want to see. Just let me know either in comments or my inbox! ^^

#hih kinktober 2023 #john price x reader #captain john price #captain john price x reader #price x reader #captain price smut #captain price x reader smut #captain price x reader #john price smut

[angelltheninth]

Knife Treatment

Pairing: Dottore x Fem!Reader

Tags: nsfw, smut, praise, dirty talk, knife play, fear play, clit stimulation, temperate play, rough sex

Word count: 0.8k

Kinktober Day 26: Knife Play

A/N: A sadist like Dottore would 100% get off on this. His kinktober entry was one of the first ones I wrote because I couldn't resist it.

Dottore always had a fondness for using toys on you. He loved watching you writhe under him, begging for his touch, for him to have mercy on you and just take you already. Denial is a powerful tool, one that he loved using. And so is fear.

Sure you know he wouldn't hurt you a lot, only what you can handle. But having a knife traveling down your body, circling your nipples with the sharp tip and then all the way down to your clit, tapping it with the cold flat blade while his fingers draw a orgasm out of you makes it hard for you to buck your hips in fear of getting cut in such a sensitive place.

"Why are you shaking dove? Scared?" His smirk was accompanied by him moving the blade to your inner thigh and pressing it against your skin. If he were to drag it in any direction you would bleed. "Hm?"

You gulped heavily, "I'm trying not to be." Honesty was always the best policy when it came to playing with Dottore, it was the only way you knew he wouldn't go overboard. He was known to get carried away and leave you sore and bruised on occasion but he'd never do it do much that you had to beg him to stop. You liked the fear, liked being on that edge and he loved pushing you there.

"Shall I proceed then?" The knife passed through your folds gently, getting it slightly slick as he moved his hand to your hip. You inhaled and sighed when you felt the tip of his cock pushing inside, spreading you open. "Be a good assistant and clean this for me."

He pressed the soaked side of the blade to your lips. It was cold, wet and tasted like you. But most of all it was Dottore's eyes, looking at you with expectation that made you obey and lick it in quick but careful licks.

"That's my girl." Dottore breathed out as he shoved his hard cock inside you fully. "It's so hot inside of you. Little slut getting all worked up from this. How filthy. Allow me to sterilize you from the inside." He chuckled wickedly as his balls started slapping against you. You gripped the edge of the table with one hand and Dottore's coat with the other, trying to pull him closer still.

You locked your legs around his hips, rendering him unable to move back as much as he wanted, a small act of defiance on your part. Not the minded, if anything he only went harder and harder, his cock slamming against your sweet spot again and again.

It had lights and stars dancing in front of your eyes sooner the you would have liked. You made a noise of protest as he pulled out of you, fisting his erection in his hand and once again bringing the knife between your legs, your juices gushing all over it. Not taking his eyes off your he gave the blade a lick before lowering it in front of him, his cum shooting out of the red tip, coating the whole of the shining blade in strings of white. He let his cock fall against your clit, your hips jolting up at him.

"That... Dottore..." You struggled to form words as you watched the combined cum trickle from the tip of the blade onto your stomach, the be smeared over it and your tits, "Are you marking me?" You couldn't hold back a shiver.

"And why not? You belong to me my dear." Dottore leaned in to kiss you, his tongue as sharp and demanding as ever as it pushed past your lips.

"I do." You whined, not sure if you meant is as an answer to his question or possibly wishful thinking of one day truly being his in every way. "I like being yours."

Dottore smirked, laying the knife on a nearby silver tray, his hands snaking under your back and lifting you off the desk. You yelped against his chest and shoulder, circling your limbs under his armpits and clinging into the fabric on his back. "Of course you do my pet. As long as you're behaving I will treat you right. Understood?"

You gave him a firm nod and received a slap on the ass in return, "Good. Good girl." He kissed your cheek next before carrying you out the door of his lab and in the direction of his bedroom, "You may rest a little then. You've been working so hard to please me today, you've earned a little rest after your little death." Both of you laughed at his choice of words. You didn't care that you were being carried around naked and with Dottore's cum still on you, all you cared about was that you were in his arms, loved and cared for in Dottore's special way.

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #genshin smut #dottore #dottore x reader #dottore smut #dottore imagines #genshin imagines #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact smut #genshin impact fanfics #kinktober

[manicpixiefelix]

Felix loves when Vampire!Reader feeds on him not just because he loves and cares for them so so much but because vampire bites feel indescribably good. It's euphoric and erotic for both participants.

And if Oliver were to witness it? Perhaps peeking through the dorm window or slightly open door? He feels such a mix of emotions including longing.

Absolutely including this, I'm loving this AU, as well as the far AU, I'm sorry I haven't been posting them I've got so many damn thoughts for all of them!!!

Also along these lines, 1. At Oxford and in most of their life, the reader hides their nature as a vampire but will absolutely joke about rumours that crop up about them.

2. Duncan is a vampire too. There's a stigma around vampires, but his job is secure so he's comfortable being identified as a vampire and there's a novelty about it for guests to Saltburn, you know? The Cattons say he's a "vegan" and they get deliveries of animal blood from local butchers every week (which they do, but it's more like a snack), but the reality is that both Elspeth and Sir James allow him to feed on them for the same reason Felix let's the reader. Elspeth is Very Into It. Its the worst kept secret in the house, especially since they try and keep up the "vegan" cover story with their children. They know the reader is a vampire and are in wilful denial of their feeding on their son. They like to believe the reader is a "vegan vampire" too.

Also please picture Reader and Duncan, both overwhelmed by the idea of an upcoming dinner/social event at Saltburn, both sitting on the counter of the kitchen, both drinking a blood bag of pigs blood like a Capris Sun, side by side in preemptively tired silence.

Duncan and Reader are friends in every universe I will not take criticism on this.

#head heart hand fic #felix catton x reader x oliver quick #felix catton x reader #felix catton imagine #saltburn imagine #saltburn x reader #vampire au #it shouts back

[ax-y10]

"You're Shaking"

Event piece info: This is "dialogue 12", as per @igloo1292719 request, shitty description of being drunk, panic attack, denial, shaking, that's all i think.

A/n: I'm bored and on a call with friends and I want to die bc everyone is so loud. You didn't need to hear that but yw ig. sorry it's so short.

Pronouns: None (You/Yours)

Masterlist: Event Masterlist:

---

You were sat on the sofa at Wilbur's house, a few of his friends scattered around the house, and him eating something in front of the tv. Everyone was drunk, and not in their right minds.

However, the music, the chaos, the constant stimulation, the lights, and the need to do something was getting incredibly overwhelming.

As Wilbur got up to put his dish away, he thought nothing of your curled up presence on the sofa, but as he returned, did he finally notice, and immediately sobered up.

You were slightly shaking, rocking back and forth, with a puzzled expression on your face. He quickly sat down in front of you on the floor, and slowly took hold of your hands, as to no startle you, and squeezed them softly.

Looking up at him, he noticed the small tears in your eyes, and kissed each of your knuckles before sitting next to you on the sofa.

"Darling you don't have to talk but can you take deep breaths for me, okay? And focus on me." He reassured you.

"Wil? What do you mean? I'm fine." You were in denial, anyone could spot it from ages away.

"Sweeheart, You're shaking."

#wilbur soot #wilbur soot imagine #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur x reader #wilbur #ax blabbers #top poster #top poster badge #event #top poster event #request #dailogue #prompt

[theredofoctober]

MANNA- CHAPTER SEVEN: LAMB

Dark!Hannibal Lecter x Reader x Dark!Will Graham AU fic

TW for eating disorders, noncon, abuse, drugging, Daddy kink, implied child abuse, self harm

This is chronologically the seventh chapter in the series

---

The kitchen is a quiet chaos— Hannibal standing over the hob, his beautiful hands precise at their work, Will slouched, sulking prettily against a countertop, looking into the bottom of a wine glass.

His temper billows about the room. It's a wonder anyone can breathe through such smoke.

You hover at an anxious distance, afflicted by delectable smells and the scar of what you’ve done. Shame beats, eviscerated, under the boards of you; you chose to taunt and then to touch Will Graham, a conscious participant in this play of a poisonous home.

If your hosts were to give you but a minute apart from them you’d chastise yourself for your abasement: three stiff, sweat-inducing planks, a lap of your room, a prison yard exhaustion.

But they keep you under their eye, knowing, like a child, you’d surely run to burn your hand on the stove.

“How do you want me to be around him?” you ask, as Hannibal tastes a truffle sauce with a look of indecision. “Your Agent Crawford. He doesn’t know about us, does he?”

“As I have assured you, it is between you, Will, and I,” Dr Lecter answers. “Therefore, as far as any visitor is concerned, you remain my patient. That is all.”

How easily you are expected to step from one evanescent role to the other. Should your tongue slip, you may damn him and Will both, yet you know Hannibal is without fear as surely as though you had your fingers to his wrist, timing the pulse of his slow calm.

“And what am I to Will today?” you ask.

“A ward, of sorts, for now.”

The word conjures images of chill cells, bed pans, wilful neglect. Something Victorian in its sensibilities.

“A ward,” you repeat. “Right.”

In the peripheries of vision Will sets down his glass with an icy clink.

“Are you intending to be civilised at dinner," he asks, "or do we have to prepare for another devolution into infantile behaviour?”

You’d expected Will to be smug, glutted from his fill, but your mouth upon him has only calcified his antagonism into some crueller compound, still. He does not like that he has taken pleasure from you, is in denial of it, a steadfast separation.

“I don’t know what I’ll do,” you say. “I never know what’s going to happen. Usually I’m... not myself.”

Will folds his arms in an impassable cross.

“You’re not being medicated tonight. Your actions will be your responsibility.”

The prospect of sobriety has little power to cheer. You’d rather the drooling oblivion of a dose over the chess match of having to divine the correct answer and micro-expression to every aside.

Intuiting your distress, Hannibal says, “You'll be eating from a slightly different menu to the rest of the table. Light portions, with attention to your safe foods.”

In disbelief, you take stock of the simmering pans, their contents once the meat of your routine.

“My... my safe foods,” you repeat. “But I didn’t even tell you what they were.”

What should comfort holds the sinister weight of interred dead, so familiar as to be uncanny.

“I have observed your preferences,” says Dr Lecter. “Thus, I am able to accommodate.”

He offers you a spoon to taste, which you decline.

“You’re making it easier for me to stick to my old ways,” you point out. “That doesn’t seem right. What’s going on?”

“I’m allowing you space to devote your energy to an unexpected social situation. I know they are not your strong suit, and I wish you to be relaxed. It will benefit us all.”

There is no pretence here of pure intentions; you acknowledge the respect that has been awarded to you in the absence of a lie.

“Thank you,” you say. “Could you do this... more, please?”

“If you continue to fulfil your role satisfactorily, yes.”

Hannibal glances at Will, whose breath of harsh laughter pars the conversation like a shank, short and sharp.

“You remain against her, then.”

“I don’t see that she has any genuine interest in evolving,” says Will, as though you are not there. “Just a cuckoo in an empty nest.”

The phrasing catches like a coat on brambled hedgerow. Alert, you examine your younger captor, interpreting the set of his harsh look.

“What are you to each other, really?” you ask.

“Friends,” says Will, bluntly.

The speed with which he speaks betrays a not-quite lie, a sentence with a postluding clause.

“We are aesthetes of an uncommon kind,” Dr Lecter interjects, over a pearl string of steam. “It adds dimension to our relationship few will ever perceive. In time, I expect you will.”

The kitchen, though of minimal colour—greys, black, pure, clinical white—develops a peculiar warmth. There is invitation, here, open-armed acceptance into domesticity, and whatever midnight cabal weds these two men in their brotherhood.

“I don’t think you want me,” you say, as Hannibal rinses cutlery at the sink. “I’m not interesting. I don’t talk like you. I don’t really understand art, or books, or poetry. I’m not even smart.”

Will’s head turns, the sly incline an eel from a cave mouth.

“Hannibal tells me you were academic, once. What happened?”

Seldom do you care to recollect your school days, which were lived painfully, as a mute ghost at the back of the class.

Attempts to decipher screens and pages through tears that had fallen without sound, and were, thus, philosophically inexistent. Whispers passed down through seated rows. Meetings with teachers and welfare staff on seats of poster blue plastic, your foot shaken against scuffed tiles in soothing motion.

The books and television series you’d once absorbed with eager voracity were parched of their appeal, by then. Your only reading was the secretive message boards into which you’d recessed like a forest to band with others of your starving ilk.

Such memories, and others arise to you. Your grades you can less easily recall.

“I’m only good at one thing anymore,” you say, aloud. “And I’m not allowed to do it here.”

Hannibal begins stacking washed dishes back into the cupboard, undeterred by your ceaseless denial.

“We will not chastise you for your simplicity. The palate can be developed, after all.”

“And not just for the food,” says Will. “Though that would be a start.”

“What if I embarrass you in front of Jack?” you ask; you’re losing this argument, and continue it only to prolong your defeat.

“Jack isn’t easily embarrassed,” says Dr Lecter. “Besides, he has been adequately prepared. You may rest in your room before dinner, little one. Sleep can do wonders for the appetite.”

He walks you to the kitchen door with a subtle insistence— like Will, he yearns to be alone.

Mumbling thanks that border on sincere, you make your egress via the stairs, glad to leave the kitchen and its tiers of expectation in your wake.

Passing Hannibal’s room, you find the door stood ajar. Curiosity draws you in, then, not to the bed—a symbol of tragedy—but to the conjoined bathroom, it, too, unlocked.

It is larger than your own, though similarly tiled in ivory and obsidian; there is a bathtub elevated on ornate feet, a shower walled in opaque glass, a sink with toothbrush and paste arranged like trophies, each surface of a bleached, crystalline sheen.

On the floor lies a set of scales, an oblong of clearest glass.

You had known that he would have one in the house, a man so fastidious in hygiene and health. Standing flat against one wall, you tilt your head, listening for an approach on the stairs, a change in the direction of the voices beneath.

When you are convinced of your privacy you strip of every garment and stand upon the scales, your hands braced at your sides in anticipation.

Even before the numbers flash on the mite screen you know that you’ve gained weight, have felt the itching progress of it across your hips and stomach.

The figure, as you glance down, is far higher than anticipated. Were it not imperative to be silent, you would scream.

You settle to hit yourself, instead, closed-fisted blows into your temple, left to right; only your reflection in the bathroom mirror stays your hand, a corpulent rendering of flesh.

This image has always shifted, for you, between your mental interpretation and its reality. Now they are one and the same, and you will never forgive your kidnappers for having altered your sight, as well.

Whose eyes have they given you, to make out this monster? One each of their own— you close the lids, and see the red of meat in the darkness behind them.

Later, when you return, dressed and sleep-dulled, to wait for dinner, you practice such restraint over your emotion that the effect is a noiseless hysteria. Catching sight of your face in any polished surface reveals a sickly visage, eyes bright and excitable, the skin dull, as of the grave.

Will regards you with a default scepticism, venturing no word. Hannibal, instantly perceptive, takes hold of your face in his cool hands and looks into your eyes.

“Is there something the matter?” he asks, and there is glass under the suede of his soft voice, a cutting menace.

There is a rap upon the door, and Dr Lecter steps free of you to answer. He returns shortly, followed by a man you recognise from the news, broad shouldered in a casual suit. His hair is closely cut, a trimmed goatee on a face that would have been handsome, in youth, and is presently so, though worn between the brows from the stress of his work.

“Good to see you, Will,” says Jack, shaking the younger man’s hand and pulling him into a half embrace. “You look well. Been taking care of yourself, I hope.”

Will smiles. His face is briefly pleasant, the dour mouth creasing at the corners.

“As well as I can,” he says. “The dogs keep me active.”

“Nice to hear you’re still running with the pack,” Jack replies. “How are the little rascals?”

You wait for the smalltalk to end, filing away what information sifts through that may be of note.

At last Jack turns to you, taking your hand lightly in his.

“So I finally get to meet you. Hannibal’s told me all about you, you know.”

A falsified minimum, you think.

Aloud, you ask, “He has?”

“Just enough,” says Dr Lecter. “Now, I must be temporarily rude and make myself scarce; I have unfinished work awaiting me in the kitchen.”

Jack releases your hand.

“Point taken,” he says. “Let's move this conversation to the dinner table, shall we?”

To your relief, once all are seated Jack manoeuvres the subject tactfully away to other things. The men speak of the weather—"I don’t care what anybody says; we don’t need that much rain this side of the Great Flood"—Jack’s wife—who is mortally ill, and immeasurably loved—and of mutual friends, whose names and various details you struggle to map in your ignorance of their world.

You eat with little attention to what crosses your lips; the day, in that aspect, is spoiled, and you cast it from you like a fruit’s rotten core.

Though Jack and Hannibal both attempt to include you in the chatter at points, you do not care to. There is the feeling of being presented to Jack like a shrewdly bargained for article of rare furniture; any comment from you is performance for these men to digest and enjoy, as they do all at this table.

It is Dr Lecter, however, that successfully extracts your opinion on a topic of his choosing. With an ingenuity that renders the shift in topic almost organic, he addresses his colleagues on the matter of their latest case.

“Surely our man will be on the move again,” he says, lifting a shred of lamb to his lips. “He may already be grooming his next subject.”

“He is,” says Will, flatly. “I’ve spent enough time thinking like him to know his heartbreak over losing the last one won’t last long.”

Jack raises his eyebrows, turning from one man to the other with a look that suggests he is almost as nonplussed by their union as you are.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to discuss this in front of your patient, Dr Lecter? The details of this case are particularly disturbing, as you already know. Will showed you photographs from the crime scene.”

“Indeed he did,” says Hannibal. “I will not easily forget it. However, as long as my guest resides under my roof I believe it’s only fair that she is involved in general discussion. Confidential matters of the case will, of course, be between us. But anything that is public knowledge I believe she has the right to know.”

“Fodder for Tattle Crime, you mean,” Will interjects, stabbing at his meal with spiteful vigour. “Freddie Lounds has covered these particular murders with a lurid relish. You’re aware that she’s already named the killer?"

Jack chuckles.

“'The Silicone Lover,'” he says. “It certainly lacks poetry in comparison to some of the others that are being thrown around, but it’s got that Lounds touch. It’s catchy, I’ll give her that.”

You drop your fork upon your plate with a jarring clash of steel and porcelain. Hannibal’s face stills in subtle displeasure, and you make a cringing gesture of apology, your mouth puckered at one corner.

“I don’t mean to interrupt,” you say, “but... I remember reading about that case. I’ve always been kind of interested in true crime. I don’t know why. Books, documentaries, all that stuff; I’ve seen them all. But this killer— he’s in my city. Everybody’s been talking about it.”

It’s the most conversation you’ve volunteered all evening, and you sense the interest of your fellow guests open to you like a late bloom.

“I hope you’ve been taking precautions, young lady,” says Jack, bringing his knife to a pat of oozing meat until his plate is a bloody eclipse. “You’re aware you fit the profile of his victims.”

You stutter out an uncomfortable laugh.

“I... I don’t go out much. So I’ve been okay.”

Even before your captivity you’d been a recluse, dissuaded from venturing outdoors by an aversion to being perceived. Short, rushed jaunts to the store had been the sum of your travels, and it occurs to you now that you should have savoured the world beyond the house: the grumbling traffic, the turned dirt scent of rain, all of it, everything. The beautiful mundane.

“Staying indoors won’t keep the Silicone Lover from making you his paramour,” says Will, shortly, one arm flung in a mode of disdain across the back of his chair. “His targets always let him into their homes willingly, and there are no defensive wounds, suggesting he makes himself known to his victims some time before he abducts them. He always gets close enough to either drug or hit them over the head without suspicion.”

“I know,” you say. “I’ve read Tattle Crime, too.”

Will sneers.

“Of course you have. She’s a provocateur. Just your type.”

“Tell us what you know of this case, then,” Hannibal says to you, smoothly diffusing the tension. “Perhaps we will benefit from a fresh perspective, especially from an individual so closely fitting the profile of those unfortunate victims.”

He looks at Agent Crawford, seeking an unspoken permission.

“Go ahead,” says Jack. “As long as you feel up to it, that is.”

His voice softens as he speaks to you, and you think of his wife, folding slowly into the ravening void of cancer. This is a man who understands illness, and has a sensitivity for it; it comforts you, to have him here, obscured though his view of his friends.

Offering Jack a shy smile, you say, “I’ll be alright. It’s just that I don’t want to put anyone off their food.”

There is laughter around the table; even Will smirks, though the expression falls as he catches you looking. You wonder again at his distaste for you, surmising with a coolly adult rationality that he is jealous of you having come between him and his mentor.

“Well?” says Will, with the rudeness of a spoiled prince. “What’s the Lover’s modus operandi?”

You catch Jack’s dark eyes squinting a fraction, and though he says nothing you rally at the knowledge that he has not entirely succumbed to Will and Hannibal’s spell.

“The dead girls are always found in rivers around the city,” you say, “sealed inside hollowed out rubber dolls. You know the kind I mean. The killer cuts open the dolls and mutilates the women to fit them inside, then seals them back up again. Keeps them in there till they suffocate, or starve to death.

Some of the women die within hours, others a few days. They must be so scared, in so much pain. But obviously that’s what he wants. Every three months or so he does it all over again.”

“Meaning we don’t have long before he takes a seventh lover,” says Will. “Fortunately for you, staying here will protect you, to an extent. You’re too far out of the killer’s hunting range for him to take an interest.”

“Can’t keep the princess locked up in her tower forever,” says Jack, cleaning his hands on a napkin. “We'd better hurry up and catch him. Now, if you’ll all excuse me—”

He rises from his seat; a bathroom visit, you realise, and an opening to speak to him alone.

Thinking quickly, you reach for your water glass and dash it across your lap. Your hand is shaking enough for the accident to seem convincing.

Both remaining men glance up from the table, startled. Will all but rolls his eyes.

“Sorry,” you say, in a grovelling squeak. “I’ll go and change, if that’s alright.”

Dr Lecter, as always, is crisply polite.

“You may go. But hurry. Our guest will expect you to return.”

For once, Will makes no comment, only returns to his food with the reverence of accepting the wafer at communion.

You pad along the corridor towards the downstairs bathroom, waiting for Jack to emerge. From what you know of Hannibal’s close relationship with the police you cannot rest your hopes of escape entirely on Agent Crawford, but you have seen the occasional teeter of trust, the unspoken perplexity with which he regards the dynamics of the household.

You may yet sway his sympathies, if you are careful. Still, you are so certain of failure that you tremble with mirth, like a drunk.

Jack steps out of the bathroom, stopping short as he notices you wincing in the shadows.

“Hey, there. Are you alright? You look a little green around the gills.”

“Agent Crawford,” you say, in a half-whisper. “I was wondering if you could help me. You know Will and Hannibal pretty well, right?”

“It’s Jack when I’m not working. And, uh, reasonably so, I’d say. Is something wrong?”

You pause, labouring over your response. To imply your wardens are the enemy will surely strike Jack as too outlandish, the mumblings of the mad.

“This treatment isn’t right for me,” you say, rather weakly. “It’s too much, and I don’t think they’re really listening to me. I miss my parents, my own room. I’m suffocating here. I was wondering if you could talk to Will and Dr Lecter. Encourage them to let me go home.”

Jack’s dark eyes soften, and he stoops slightly over you, as he might in order to speak to a small child.

“Dr Lecter told me you might ask me that. The road you’re on is a tough one, young lady, but you’ve got to stick it out. Not just for yourself, but for everybody who cares about you. Besides, I’m pretty damn sure Will and Hannibal would be disappointed to see you go home so soon.”

You turn your head into your shoulder, your neck caught in a miserable spasm.

“Will doesn’t like me at all.”

“That’s just the way he is. Prickly with just about everyone he encounters. Imagine the strain on me, having to keep him in line.”

You do laugh, then, and Jack flashes you a gap-toothed grin.

“He’ll warm up to you. Though to be honest, I don’t know why Hannibal’s getting Will involved in all this when he already has enough on his plate. Between work and those episodes of his, I don’t know if he ought to take on too many other responsibilities. But I guess Dr Lecter knows what he’s doing.”

Episodes?

You’d noticed Will’s fits of illness, a certain fragility; to hear it confirmed is a gold coin in your hand to spend in the future to come.

“I’m going to head back to the table,” says Jack. “Let’s give all this a little more time. If it doesn’t work over the next couple of months I might put a word in for you, suggest therapy sessions over inpatient treatment. But I can’t push it, kid. You’re not my patient. I can’t overstep the line, here. But I’m on your side. You keep up what you’re doing, alright?”

He leaves you there, knuckling tears from your eyes. Regretting that you hadn’t spoken the truth, in all its risk.

*

You go to your room, meaning only to dress. In the end you cannot resist returning to Hannibal’s scales on the way back, called by a manic self-flagellating urge to know much further weight you’ve gained from the meal.

You are not free, will never be free, are worth nothing but numbers. They've become all you are.

It’s as you’re stepping, naked, stupid with despair onto the scale that you hear a voice behind you.

“You must learn to restrain these impulses, little one.”

You turn so sharply that something strains in your neck again. Your hands strive to cover your nakedness. A futility, considering what he has seen, that he has fucked you.

“I assume that you have also spoken to Jack Crawford,” says Hannibal. “Pleading your case to be released. How naughty you have been.”

How handsome he looks, almost young, in the tasteful bathroom light. There is something like death in his sudden beauty, a void coldness.

Terror, a stake of ice from throat to cunt.

He means to kill you, if not now, then soon.

You know of only one way he might forgive so many missteps. Another course: you eat your pride.

“I didn’t mean to, Daddy,” you say. “Please don’t tell Will.”

You lower your arms, forging a sword of your vulnerability. Hannibal glances down only once, and with more amusement, then, than thirst.

“He will never know,” he says. “If you come to my room tonight. There is a lesson you must learn. It cannot wait.”

*

There is a tension about the residence of waiting, after Will and Jack have gone, the dry-mouthed breath before the silver lipped drop of the guillotine.

There is motion about the house, yet you feel rather than hear it; Hannibal has a way of carrying his physicality that seems to possess no weight at all. Ghoulish, his haunting of the rooms below as you sit on his bed, to await him.

You arrange yourself on the dark sheets in sacrificial mode, so ill with fear that it seems all your organs are in torsion, a helix of flesh from chest to womb.

It strikes you that you’d lain so, once, a night your father's friend, Leland Frost, had stumbled the many stairs to your room, beer the umber of his breath as he’d kissed you goodnight.

You had let him touch you, then, as you will let the devil touch you, now. As a child, as an adult, you are absolved: animals must eat, and their prey bear no fault when the hand of God steers them in the direction of hunger.

Hannibal ascends the stairs, each footfall making you jump. Stiff-backed, you turn to a sleek alarm clock on the bedside table, vowing to fix your eyes to its sympathetic face until the hour is done.

A name—yours—blackens your ear, a knell of things more wicked than death.

“Little one,” says Hannibal. “I will not hurt you. This lesson involves no corporal punishment.”

You sit up slightly, slippery in grey silk pyjamas, of whose cost you dare not think.

“Not the lights,” you say, hastily. “Or that metronome thing. I hated it.”

Dr Lecter removes his jacket, socks, and shoes, the quiet process of putting them away a careful rite, his prayer unspoken.

“To begin with,” he says, “I’d like to ask you some questions about your personal habits.”

He speaks delicately, but with an undertone of velvet sensuality that delivers you into fear you cannot resist.

“How often do you pleasure yourself, little one?”

“I don't,” you say.

The words form with such stumbling velocity that you cringe at your own lie.

Hannibal looks down at you with a sort of sorrow.

“If that is your response, then I must teach you.”

“No! I mean, don’t. I’m sorry. I do... do that. But it’s embarrassing to talk about it. I don’t want to.”

“I’m afraid you must. To be a fully-fledged adult it is important to embrace all facets of yourself, including sexuality. So, please address my question.”

Hannibal steps towards the bed, not with threat, but to pursue the lost treasure of your secret.

“Twice a week, maybe,” you admit. “At night.”

“How do you masturbate?”

You’d never expected the world from Dr Lecter. He speaks it factually, without humour, priestly severe.

“With my hands,” you say. “My fingers.”

You’d been too embarrassed to order toys to the house, which still you share with your family, the humiliation of an accidentally opened box an unimaginable discomfort.

“What do you think about as you climax, little one?” asks Hannibal, a question worse still than those before it in the nature of your answer.

You’d watch videos, often violent, peruse literature online which you hastily erased from your history, afterwards. It almost seems you beckoned in this abuse, through your interests, aroused only by cruelty, and the dark.

“I don’t know,” you say. “Different things. Nothing specific.”

Hannibal takes another step towards the bed.

“Answer again.”

Tears char your vision into soot.

“I hate you,” you say, fiercely. “More than I hate Will.”

“Because I cannot be moved in my resolve, as he can,” says Hannibal. “Will is suggestible, to an extent, whereas I am sure in my standing. It sears your ego to obey a man so entirely.”

He pads, barefoot, in a half circle around the bed, a panther uncaged.

“So,” says Dr Lecter. “Speak. What do you think of when you touch yourself?”

You open your mouth, and find yourself mute, truly incapable of speech.

Hannibal seems to understand this, however, for he does not insist again.

“Undress for me. I would like to see you demonstrate.”

Your head swings in a rattling ‘no’.

“Very well. I will attempt it.”

Again you shake your head, and in cumbersome, unlovely motions you struggle out of the pyjamas, ashamed of how clumsy you appear before him.

Naked, you sit up on your knees, covering yourself with your arms as best you can.

“Legs apart, please,” says Hannibal. “Then do as you normally would. I will merely watch.”

He reclines in one of the chairs in the room, his eyes like foreign seas, reflecting the night.

Scalded with humiliation, you bring your fingertips between your thighs and stroke in looping circles. The skin there is parched, unresponsive, unyielding; to be watched in such intimacy takes the pleasure from the act, which has always been in realms of secret sin.

“I can’t do it, Hannibal,” you say. “Nothing’s happening. I don’t feel good.”

It is the only time you’ve used his first name to his face, a trespass into familiarity you do not share.

“Is it because you don’t have access to the usual stimulating material?” he asks, ignoring your blunder.

You snap your knees shut upon your hands.

“I don’t use any.”

Hannibal takes your calves in his hands, a grip which might break.

“I know that you do. When I accepted you as my patient I made a point to visit your house, when no one was home. Your room was as I expected it to be. Juvenile, and stale aired from many days spent there alone. Your laptop was open. It wasn’t difficult to breach. Your password was the title of a book on your shelf.”

Wintergirls. Laurie Halse Anderson had been a staple of your literary youth, and it had never occurred to you that anyone might guess it.

“You didn’t clear your history as thoroughly as you believed,” says Hannibal. “I was intrigued by what I found there.”

You do not resist as he opens your legs, so limp are you in your horror.

“I— what you saw— it doesn’t mean I want this. It’s not the same.”

Hannibal blinks slowly.

“No. I would be uninterested if it was.”

He sits upright again, folding his hands in his lap. How pure they look, a harpsichordist’s tools, an illustrator’s. Evil, beautiful things.

“Begin again,” says Hannibal. “Think of Will and I. What we have done to you. Our touch. Our words. The imposition of power. The ineludible fact of your belonging to us.”

Femoral heat. Your core rings crimson bronze, and your fingers follow its kulning. You want to stop, but Hannibal’s voice alone is a hypnosis, effective even without the ticking and the lights.

“Imagine Will’s hand across your cheek. Around your throat. Envision my own.”

You make some noise, not quite a moan.

Dr Lecter lowers himself down until his breath mists your cunt, and the sensation has you writhing beneath it, maddened by the ephemeral touch of air, and needing it to finish.

He looks up, and his eyes are a reveller’s, a satyr of ancient land.

“How sweet you must taste. I have prepared your meals specifically to assure that you do.”

Your hand cycles in motion, compelled by his mystical art.

Hannibal remains over you, too close, at too great a distance.

“Stop,” he says. “That is enough.”

You are so close that the command is more craven in its dealings than Will’s palm across your face.

Your breaths are the sunken heat of a pagan sun. You burn and burn.

“Why should I give you what is so unwanted?” asks Hannibal, and pauses, as though you might beg.

Speech is inconceivable to your mind, as it is now, a concept like the colour of dying. You only sit with the head of a God between your legs, forced to such a brink that your weakness rides through you like a drug.

Eyes of night pleasure, of deathly ritual—

He laps your cunt for scarcely half a minute before you career over your edge, stacked orgasms that render you sightless with their power. You arc from the bed like an antler, a horn cry blown through your soul.

The pleasure is a stellar whiteness. You writhe up towards his tongue like a wave.

“Poor girl,” says Hannibal, as you lie piteously beneath him. “You can do nothing without me. Even this.”

#manna fic #ao3 writer #dark fic #dark!fic #hannibal fic #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal lecter #yandere hannibal lecter #yandere will graham #will graham #will graham x reader #noncon fic #tw noncon #tw eating disorders

[tu-es-gegg]

i cried this stream when i saw the sign, when i saw slime write “love you Flippa, thanks for all”, my crying doesnt happen often but i DID cry holy fuck.

Yknow the whole stream of dia de los muertos really hit home for me that, yeah  Juanaflippa is dead. the real juanaflippa is dead and she’s gone. and in the aftermath two broken people are left. flippa is seeing her papa, the one always trying his best to be the parent Juana needed, now a broken man because of her death and what he’s missing, and now fully seeped into denial about the “juanaflippa” that he’s takign care of now.

i love dia de los muertos for what it means for people, a time for people to remember people they love, to take this moment and acknowledge that yeah, they may be physically gone, but they are loved, they are kept in memory and will live on that way, it allows that fact to sit with them and still be able to smile because of the time spent when they were around.

this whole stream made me remember that, esp with slime and juanaflippa, because slime has never really had a cahnce to properly grieve. like he’s stuck in the cycle and barely reaching acceptance before getting dragged back down again. every coping mechanism he’s done: alcoholism, hurting himself, putting others down, trying to shift all blame and pain to mariana, litterally Gegg, so much traumadumping, some extension codeflippa, etc. all of that is to try and grapple and fight with that pain, to make it go away and replace it with something better. but really grief and its pains never go away, the sad feeling of missing someone never truly heals, people just learn how to live with it, to keep seeing the next day happy with it, no matter how much it hurts, slime never learned how to do that

he’s never had a chance to heal and learn to live with flippa’s memory in him, never learned how completely accept “yes, she’s gone and i might never spend more time with her again, but i’ll never forget her”

this day, he’s still deep in denial, he’s not truly willing to acknowledge juanaflippa is dead, no matter how much juana shoves the book about the her beign welcomed to the mictlān, the signs are there but he can’t bear to say it outloud she’s dead. he knows but he’s never going to face it until he’s forced to,

but he can have that moment, this day in the event place, to accept that moment isn’t going to last forveer and that’s ok, he has to go and not see juanaflippa in a while. at least the last memory he will have of Juanaflippa will not be that whtioe room under the cemetary, watch her be taken away and crying out for her. instead his last memory wil be hide and seek, hugs and happy flips, hanging with Tilin, seeing her so happy, the sign thnaking her

thanking Juana for being herself, thank her for existing, thank her for being the happiest memory i have, thank her for all...

and he is able to leave on his own terms, no rushed goodbyes because of settime limits. he is able to say goodbye, i have to go now.

it’s not really acceptance, but it’s close enough for the day, and for slime and what he’s going through, it’s enough

#qsmp #qsmp slimecicle #qsmp juanaflippa #qsmp analysis #ramble #txt post

[cathers-world]

hey!

i wrote a thing for the sub!wilbur prompt you got but im too shy to post it myself so im sending it to you through asks

cw explicit sexual content, edging, denial, pet play

"Stop shaking your leg it's distracting me!" your co-worker Kate says from the other side of the desk.

"Sure," You hadn't even realized you were shaking it to begin with. It's been hard to focus on anything really. This whole week feels like a blur you barely remember, with the only thing clear being Wil. Your Wil.

You clockout for the day, 'thank fuck it's finally the weekend.' and drive home. Fingers tapping on the steering wheel, barely focusing on the road in front of you as you go back to daydreaming about your good pup.

"I'm hoooooome." You announce and take your shoes off waiting for the usual eager response, but nothing. "Baby?" You glance over at the shoe rack, there doesn't seem to be a pair missing so he is probably not out.

"Wil? Are you napping?" You whisper as you slowly push the door open. And smile at the sight. He is in a deep asleep, his messy curls all over his forehead as his chest slowly rose and fell in a peaceful rhythm. So gorgeous. So innocent.

'Jesus christ! ' You squeeze your thighs together a bit huffing at the fact that him looking cute is all it takes for your body to go crazy. He doesn't even have to do anything; it's frustrating sometimes. How can one be so effortlessly hot?

You remember the first time you met him. Your friend introduced you to each other and you couldn't stop but tell him how you think he is so beautiful instantly. It came out without your permission. Your brain needed the man in front of you to know he looks angelic no matter if you ever ended up with him or not.

And here he was years later, laid asleep on your bed, the most amazing thing to ever happen to you.

"Hey, pup," You whisper as you slowly crawl into his side. Rubbing his back and kissing his forehead, "I'm home, love." You watch as his breathing changes and his eyes open, "Your eyes are so fucking cute, baby." You mutter out the compliment, he smiles and drags you in for a sweet kiss.

"Hey, you. I missed you," He says caressing your face. "I missed you too pup...so fucking much..." His expression changes at the pet name, or rather the way you say it. He knows that tone of voice. He craves it more than anything. It's all he can think about and dream of in the past few years.

You can almost see him slipping into subspace by the way his eyes glaze over. Or how his mouth goes slightly agape, silently begging for your figers. He is so cute. You watch as he moves his legs ever oh so slightly, trying to hide his desperate need.

"I need to keep you edged out for longer puppy, you are such a good boy when you are all denied and desperate, love." You say with a little smirk on your lips. You reach your right hand to his face, and start playing with his bottom lip.

"You have the most perfect lips you know that Wil? It's like gods themselves carved them." You say staring at you thumb, tracing his plump bottom lip and the perfect arch of the top one. You hear him whimper, and you feel it on your thumb too.

"Please..." He pleads with his puppy eyes staring right at you. God he is so gorgeous. "Please what puppy? What do you want?" You say, it's been years and yet he hasn't learned that he needs to use his words...or mayhaps he likes you coaxing it out of him.

"I...fuck," He whines and hides his face in the crook of your neck. "Poor baby is too edged out to function?" You giggle out the words, it's amusing but also oh so arousing, you can practically feel your wetness on your underwear. You love seeing him so needy...so needy for Your touch. Your good boy.

"Yea, I am," He says with a chuckle. "I had to stop myself from humping the pillows this morning after you left, baby." He breaths the words against your skin, still holding onto your back for dear life, "I need you so bad, love. It hurts." He whines as he tries to get even closer to you somehow.

"Awwwww babyyyyy. I'm so proud of you for stopping yourself and being a good boy. You are such a perfect pup for me." You coo as you tangle your fingers in his hair and pull it, maybe a bit rougher than necessary just to get a reaction out of him. It works, he whines as he looks at you again, eyes locked with your, god you wish he knew how gorgeous he really was like this.

"What is it that you want, darling? Use your words my pretty boy." You say playing with his hair and slowly rubbing his back. He whines, trying to force the words out of himself as his shyness begs him to stop, "I want you to fuck me, love. Please. I need to feel you around me. I need you so bad. I need to rut into you because it's the only way for my body do calm down. Please, I'll do anything, my love." He rushes the words out before hiding his face in your neck again.

"Fucking hell, Wil." You say now fully yanking his hair back, "You are driving me insane, pup." You say as you carsh your mouth into his.

i uhhhh i can write the rest but didnt know if you were comfortable with full smut in your asks. if you are you can let me know and i can send you the other part.

-subbur anon

Write.the.rest.

Also I’m 100% ok with head cannons/one shots in my ask’s!!

#wilbur soot oneshots #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur imagine #wilbur soot #wilbur soot smut #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur smut #wilbur dream smp

[sleeby-anon]

Witch!Wilbur Soot x Reader Short: Attention Whore

AFAB gender-neutral reader, This short is a part of the Sleeby Late Night Writing Fest Which will be updating frequently during October 2023.

Prompt: Wilbur needs attention. You need to give it to him.

Warnings: Swearing, NSFW, Subbing Wilbur, Domming reader, pegging, fingering, subspace, degradation, and praise, uhhhh... sex? ..duh

Minors Fuck Off

There isnt any denial that Wilbur likes all of your attention. None at all. If he sees you talking to other people, he almost needs you to know that he is there too. You should talk to him too.

He usually has steps before he interrupts a conversation—when he knows it’s about a project (that either he’s involved with or know this is something you are really focused on) he does his best to try and be patient. But he will be floating around nearby and in your view. 

If the conversation continues, he will creep closer towards you, then he’s being incredibly touching which is like you final warning before he does something attention whoreish. 

Attention whoreish could be many things—sometimes involves setting something on fire nearby—causing a panic and “oh my gods let’s get out of here together so a professor can take care of it”

Otherwise it’s calmly (in the same way a panther stalking it’s prey) mentioning that student’s family and the coven they are in—it’s a subtle reminder that they are out of your league. (This one is embarrassing and you will deny him attention for using it)

In the more extreme route (that doesn’t get unlocked until you start dating) he will start kissing your neck, and be annoying with the PDA, until the person you are talking to gets uncomfortable and leaves

You can delay the attention whoreish-ness by reciprocating the physical affection, if he holds your hand, rub your thumb against his hand, if he leans on your shoulder, pat him on the head, if he has an arm wrapped around your waist, you can either hold his hand there, or remove the arm and lock your pinky fingers together.

-*-

Wilbur had become an attention whore for the last fucking time. It actually pissed you off. You dragged him by the collar to his dorm and almost threw him on the bed.

“Are this this much of a fucking whore that you can’t stand watching me talk to someone else.” You say taking your shirt off and crossing your arms And he was fucking gone– crumbling because he does like it when you degrade and praise him.

You got on top of him and straddled his lap. He reached out to touch you, but you smacked his hand away.  

“Fuck that—you take what I fucking give you.” He nods, and whimpers—clenching his fists because god you looked so pretty without wearing your shirt. He wanted to just touch you. And as you trailed your fingertips down his chest and his arms and across his collarbone and up his neck almost bored, he is blushing, gasping at every little touch you gave him. 

“You know you could have fucked me if you had waited an extra five minutes” you shaking your head and removing yourself from his lap.

“Please, no I can be good, please, let me–” 

“If you wanted to fuck me you shouldnt have been so rude earilier. Now I’m going to have to spend more time with them during a study session because you couldnt control yourself.” You say removing your trousers and while grabbing your strap on. You can see his eyes widen.

“I–uh–”

“If you can behave for twenty minutes, you can please me however you want.” you say after making sure the faux cock was firmly attached. You grab your phone and set the timer. “If you cant I’ll get myself off and you will have to watch.” 

He's nodding, and is taking his clothes off almost immediately. You dont bother laughing at him. As pissed off as you are it was really cute how desperate he was. 

You  spent a few minutes stretching him over and then flipped him over, putting him on his hands and knees. When you pushed the fake dick into his pretty hole, he let out a very loud moan. 

“15 minutes Wil. I can tell how much this turns you on. You tell me the minute you have to cum you hear me?” He nodded meekly, and you thrust back into him, letting another whoreish moan leave his mouth. “Words, pretty boy.”

“Yes–fuck–gods okay.” He said gasping.

What follows was repeated edging, gasps and moans. His arms were shaking, and his hands were tightly clutching the sheets of his duvet cover. 

At one point you grabbed his hair and yank back his head and the moan was almost just as delicious as the others he had been making. 

The words that leave your mouth, an odd mix of praise and degradation that seems to encourage him.

“Such a pretty noise, you’d be much prettier if you could behave.” 

“Doing so well, taking me like a whore” 

You timer goes off just as you finished edging him for the fourth time. Wilbur was a fucking mess, whimpering and pleading as you pulled out. You took the strap off, and moved him around, so you could straddle his thighs. You kissed his chest, and his face. 

“So good for me wil, my perfect good boy.” His eyes are so hazy and you can tell he’s deep in subspace. You push some of his hair out of his face. 

“Your turn sweetheart. How do you want me undone?” He whimpered back, gods he wanted to get off and you were sitting there touching him, loving him and a small part of him wanted you as destroyed as he is, but he knew he didnt have the stamina for that after twenty minutes of being edged. He looked up at you and then back down to his hands before you laughed. 

“Yeah you can touch me baby, it’s alright. However you want me.” 

He immediately traced your hips your chest, your face, and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you further onto his lap. You allow him to touch you for a few minutes, before you recognize that he still hadn’t said anything.

“Do you want me to ride you sweetheart?” He looked up at you, with an excited and eager smile on his face. He nodded and you kissed his forehead. 

“Alright then. Do you want to help stretch me?” He nodded aggressively, still at a loss for words. You climb out of his lap and sit up, and spead your legs, reaching out for his hand. 

“You know what to do pretty boy.” you say softly, pulling his hand to your sex. Cupping his face with your other hand. You let his hand go, and he cautiously, inserts a finger into you, looking for confirmation and you nod in approval. As he stretches you out, You cant deny that even while hes subbing out of his mind, his fingers are enough to make you tremble.

“So good, Wil, so good for me.” you say through moans. By the time you can tell you are ready, you put your hand over his. He whined at the gesture.

“Oh I know,” you said pulling his hand away from you. “You did so well, but you still want me to ride you right?” asking so softly. His eyes dilated further at the idea. He scrambled to lay down, and you softly lowered yourself onto him.

No matter how many times you had his cock in you, it was still just as filling and as the first time he had fucked you. Almost immediately, his hands were on your hips, holding you still. 

“That close already?” You asked between light gasps. He nodded. You stayed still for a bit until his grip on your hips eased, you took the hint and began lightly bouncing on him. Gasping and whimpering the whole time. 

It wasnt much longer before the two of you are coming undone on the other, and he whimpered your name like a prayer. 

By the time the two of you came down from your high, and you had eased him back from subspace, he held you so so close. Tucking his head into your neck. You lightly scratched his scalp and traced shapes onto his back. 

“Wil, I’m going to need you to be more patient.” You say after awhile.

“I know—I just—“ 

“I get it. And as much as I enjoy fucking you stupid—I need a life other than just you. You know that right?” you say kissing the side of his head. 

“Unfortunately.” 

“Hey.” And you turned his face to look you in the eye. “The next time you want to get pegged—ask.” And he blushed before burying his head back into your chest. 

“Deal.” 

You smiled lightly to yourself and held him a little tighter. “Okay, pretty boy.”

Taglist: @listenheresweaty @littleraindrops @heartofwritiing @mosslovestherain @farmer-gal @helix-phild @sellyoutherope @toiletwipes @enanon @consequencesbylovejoy, @l0veb0mb1ng

#Sleeby lnwf #late night writing fest #wilbur soot x reader #witchbur #witchbur x reader #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fanfiction #sleeby anon #nsft #wilbur smut #wilbur soot smut

[phxntomsdusk]

More than my hometown - Baseball!Wilbur x GN!Reader

summary: ever since you and Wilbur got together, he never admitted to loving you most

warnings: Wilbur being in denial, cringy teenage romance, underage drinking, kisssinnngg

tags: @ax-y10 , @joviepog , @pheliiaa , @idontreallyexistyet , @rqvii , @vibestillaxxx , @average-vibe , @ivvees-blog , @haunted-headset , @lillylvjy (ask to be added!)

word count: 462

You and Wilbur grew up as best friends, mostly because your mothers went to highschool together. The two were inseparable, which soon found its way onto you as well.

Ever since he started baseball, you had been showing up to each and every game. His teammates all grew to love you, and always teased him about his clear feelings for you. They’d ship you two, dare you to kiss him for winning the game, etc.

Everyone knew you two would end up together one day, most likely you’d settle down with one another. There was just one problem with him. He refused to accept that he loved you more than his hometown.

He’d use so many other examples, there was no winning that argument no matter how often you asked.

“Wil, what do you love me more than?” You spoke quietly, raising a brow at him as your hands found their way on each of his shoulders.

“I love you more than a California sunset.” To which, he’d proceed to ramble on about how he thinks you’re so much prettier than the sunset, completely avoiding your original question.

“More than.. a beer when you aren’t twenty-one yet!” He’d awkwardly walk off to his kitchen, sneaking one of his dads beers, to which you guys would share while watching dumb movies.

“Erm.. more than when the bass hits the hook, or the guy gets the girl at the end of the book.” Leading to him taking you to the small river behind his house, making a small fishing rod with a stick and some string. Or you’d go through his books, reading them and recreating some of the scenes.

No matter what, he wouldn’t say he loved you more than his hometown. It was his number one priority for some reason.

This had been going on for at least a year now, when suddenly he approached you from behind in the hallway, a sigh leaving his lips as his arms wrapped around your waist. This was normal behavior for him at school, he was an extremely clingy person.

“Hey, Wil.” You smiled softly, leaning up and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Hey, baby.” He smiled back at you, kissing your forehead before he buried his face in your neck and mumbled something quietly. “What was that?”

He pulled his head back, his chin resting on your shoulder as he spoke up. “I love you more than my hometown.”

His words shocked you for a moment. He had never once admitted this, and now he was saying it? So nonchalantly in the hallway?

“I mean it, by the way. I was dumb before. But being with you for so long made me realize that.. you’re so much more important than this old town.”

#phxntomsdusk #phxntoms fics #baseball!wilbur #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot x y/n #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot fluff #wilbur soot angst #wilbur soot