Imagining Publicly Calling Out Oikawa And Iwazumi For Their Bad Behavior And Bullying. It Would Be Messy

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. ᭢ 🦢 Yandere! College Frat Boy

a//n :: first post on this blog heh. might or might not be projecting my type of guy. feel free to suggest / req yanderes or him!! I really want to write more about him. He is a soft yandere, so like.... sorry if you expected more LMAO. There might be some grammar mistakes, sorry for that!

minors dni !!1!!!

wrns // tws :: rumors, stalking. light yandere behavior.

word count :: 1.8k words

g/n reader x frat boy ( Kaelum Bianchi)

— The university you had just enrolled in was quite a prestigious one, with multiple connections already established to said college. Many doctors, politicians, and those high in the social ladder have their daughters and sons put through here, be it through bribing or the extremely harsh exams.

— You had taken the latter, and the professors gave you a schedule that seemed pretty normal. All pretty mundane classes throughout the day depending on your electives and course.

— In one of your mandatory classes was Kaelum Bianchi, one of the boys that partied till no end in the weekends yet passed with stellar grades. With slightly curly golden hair, an almost sunshine grin, and a wonderful figure. He was obviously a social butterfly, always chatting and yapping to the professors of whatnot and students even more. You were quite suspicious of him. Did he somehow seduce the teachers, or was he just a genius? You couldn't lie, your interest was piqued.

— From his end, you were already someone he had taken note of from the start. Yes, he was popular. Everyday he had some random girl compliment him and confess to him, (he admits it felt nice being praised and 'loved' by random girls and boys he could care less of, though he does reject them) he couldn't quite understand why you were somehow a little bizarre. You were attractive, sure. Extremely, even. He couldn't count how many times he bit his lip trying to look away and control himself. You clicked the pen absentmindedly whenever you understood the lesson too well, or were simply bored, You made eye contact with him at one point, and merely smiled. Yeah, you were odd.(you weren't, he just wasn't used to people not liking him at the beginning) There was an air around you, and at one point, a few weeks after you had first enrolled, he had enough of simply looking from afar, and made a move. You studied well, and while he knew you didn't have any connections. he'll just change that.

— You sat near the exit of the class, as usual, when suddenly an ashamedly charismatic man decides to make the empty seat next to yours his now. You didn't have much friends, and when he makes slightly fulfilling small talk between classes— not too much, and he pipes down whenever you take notes—, you couldn't help but laugh at his remarks. You missed the way his eyes turned smitten at your lips curling upwards, and the way he grips the wooden table as if resisting temptation to lean in. At the end of the class, you had most of his friends' socials and his, and he asks you to come to one of his major halloween parties at his place. There were some colleges that only allowed in campus-dormitories, but since the demographic of the students were all practically rich kids with their own homes and apartments, they let that tradition diminish.

— You agreed, and he grins, nodding before watching you head out. That night, he stalked all your socials, quickly finding out what your hobbies were, what your music taste was, who you were online essentially. Multiple of his friends questioned him when he had texted you with compliments, wondering if this was a fling or a crush. They were a little confused, but mostly supportive, especially with the way he talked with them about you 90% of the time ever since that night. They agreed to be his wingmen and help you with anything if they saw you. He was extremely popular throughout the entire campus, and if word came out that he suddenly didn't like you? No one liked you either.

— You continued to hang out with Kaelum and talk. During class, at the restaurants and mall nearby, the parks, even near your own apartment by random. That last one was a bit creepy. Yeah, he lived 30 minutes away from your house and in the opposite direction of school, so him simply being on a walk was a little too weird of an excuse. But he was one of your closest friends, hell, you stayed in his house more than your own. And you had to admit, you had a little bit of a crush on him, so you quickly brushed it off. I mean, he would never stalk you, right?

— More time passes before the party, and he suddenly gives you an array of gifts. It ranged from cute gag gifts, heartfelt ones, to randomly luxurious ones. There was a time where he gave you a permanent bracelet that cost in the hundreds of thousands. "Give it to someone you truly love." His mother had mumbled when she gave it to him, and he took it to heart. When he gave it to you, that same pressure didn't really apply. When you looked at the delicately adorned jewelry, he simply stated. "If you don't want it, I'll just get you something else, okay?" While he was sentimental, he didn't except you to be the same. He would still love you nonetheless. Of course, you were grateful and ruffled his hair in gratitude. He smiled, 'jokingly' kissing your hand in return.

— Many things and activities that seemed like what only couples did, felt casual between the both of you. He knew how to lighten the mood, and to weave through the boundary of just friends to something more. After a while, he couldn't bear hearing you call him just a comrade. He could hear and feel the "ooh....damn." and pitiful glances of his brothers at the frat whenever he got bro-zoned. For the second time, he decided on making his move.

— It was Friday night, the day of the party, and Kaelum swore he was about to pounce on you. He could feel his own self control breaking down simply looking at you. The metallic taste of blood inked in his mouth from biting his cheek too hard. He smiles, complimenting your outfit and leaning in closer to you than normal. The house was extremely big, with many rooms and blaring music and lights. There were 3 floors, filled with random people, presumably his friends. His sole focus was on you though, and as both of you danced late at night. At one point, when the lights flashed off for just a second, he suddenly kissed you. It was brief, and if you didn't feel his hand hold your chin so gently, you wouldn't believe it was real.

— Shocked was all you felt. Practically the king of all social gatherings in one of the most influential schools in the country? Kissing a little nobody like you? Yeah, right. He was probably just doing a bet. And with the way three new frat members were laughing, it basically confirmed it. You began to run away from the party, dumbfounded and face red. You couldn't tell if it was from the alcohol or the kiss, though. You could hear Kaelum running after you, and you felt embarrassed.

— He, on his end, felt heartbroken, and most of all, hurt. Did you not like him the way he liked you? The countless nights after parties he thought about you, wanting to feel you. He wasn't a player, and even less so when you came into his life. Was it something he did? Something he lacked? He could give you anything you needed in your life. He was the epitome of generational rich, a nepo baby essentially. Just give him the word, and he'd give it all to you. Or was it because you had someone else in mind?

You were ashamed and were fighting the urge to cry as you made your way to the backdoor of the mansion. It was an area that a lot of people did not know even existed, but Kaelum showed it to you on one of those nights you stayed at his place. Damn him, you thought. Even if you felt betrayed, you still loved the guy. You were about 4 steps out before a voice stops you in your tracks. "Do you like someone else?" Kaelum caught up to you frankly quickly, with his long frame and sporty background. You looked back at him, and you felt his hand grip your shoulder tightly. You rolled your eyes. "I'm not one of your side links, Kaelum. Stop following me." You could see the way his brows furrowed, his eyes blinking in confusion. He steps closer.

"I never said you were my side?- Who said that? Was it one of my friends?...No, they aren't that stupid to piss me off. No, I got it. It must be those three new little shits I saw earlier. Oh my god, I'll fucking kill them-"

Don't. You did this for a dare right? Kissing me?" The second you said that, he looked offended, like a puppy that got kicked in the rain. A slight pout was on his lips, and he leaned down, almost in a submissive manner.

"No. No, what? What are you on-... sigh, sorry. Didn't mean saying that. I would never do that, especially not to you. I'd rather kill myself than do anything that could hurt you. I look for you in every class, and in every corner of our college. I need you, ___. In a way that I don't think is healthy." At this point, you were already in his embrace. It felt suffocating, almost. "So please, don't leave." You couldn't dare to reply. Part of you was happy, but another part of you felt like if you did leave him, he would've ruined you.

— You stayed there, outside near the back entrance of his house the he only showed to you. In an embrace only just a little bit too tight and reliant, with a boy completely obsessed with you.

— He ends the party earlier than usual, time being 1am, and for the rest of the night, you stayed in his bedroom, having had a cold shower, watching movies with a seemingly infinite supply of food and drinks provided by one of the family's in-house maids. He popped in from time to time, checking in on you and talking casually. Only thing that changed was now his eagerness to touch you.

— Outside, while saying goodbye to the partygoers, Kaelum spreads rumors about the three new frat boys. It was scary, how fast he had changed personalities. Horrible words of gossip spread quickly through each and every college group, and even the most lonely people knew of the "crimes" those three had committed. By the next day, no one wanted to be acquainted with them, and the majority of those in your classes outwardly became friendly to you, seeing you as an innocent victim to their 'harassment.' You only glared at Kaelum, to which he responds with a whistle and shrug.

all rights reserved to maisiesgrove !!1! please repost/like if you would like to support <33

creds to reve on tumblr for lace header

creds to zuolirio on Pinterest for 2nd header.

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Yandere mother-in-law Visenya Targaryen and daughter-in-law reader and yandere husband Maegor Targaryen.

~ Maegor discovers his reader first. Although he was married to Ceryse for twelve years, he still had no heir. That's why he decided to look for a woman to give him heirs. After his father's death, he will make his decision alive after adopting the dragon named Balerion, known as the Black Horror.

~ He sees the reader when he goes to the Red Fort to attend a meeting. It will immediately gather information about who the reader is. Visenya doesn't know what to decide when Maegor asks her for help. However, as soon as she sees the reader, she develops inclinations towards the reader like her son.

~ She accepts her as a daughter he never had. She believes wholeheartedly that the reader will be able to give her many grandchildren. She will encourage his son's inclinations. This does not give a good result at all. Maegor King asks his brother to annul his marriage to Ceryse. If this is not accepted, she asks permission to take the Reader as his second wife. If both requests are not accepted, he will choose another path. He gets angry and will hold grudges against his brother, the council, and anyone who opposes his wishes.

~ Maegor will make a plan to take you by force. But Queen Visenya will be more cunning. She would take you as her bridesmaid and make everyone look like you died. Maegor had immediately accepted this plan. You are soon sent to Dragonstone as Queen Visenya's bridesmaid. For a few weeks, Queen Visenya chooses to wait for you to get used to them. After a few weeks, Queen Visenya says she wants to marry you off to her son. At first you object. But for the sake of your family and Westeros, you are forced to accept his plans. They lie to everyone that you are dead. Many believe this.

~ You soon marry Maegor in accordance with both Valyrian and Westeros traditions. Queen Visenya is preparing you for the evening. Maegor is trying his best not to hurt you all night long. Maegor no longer goes to his first wife's bed. Even if Ceryse suspects something, Queen Visenya silences her. He spends every night with you. She spends every opportunity she gets with you.

~ It turns out that you are pregnant almost a month after your marriage. Maegor is very proud and Queen Visenya is very happy. Queen Visenya is spending time with you and her unborn grandchild. You are trapped by two possessive dragons that stay on top of your head throughout your pregnancy.The best food for you and the baby is brought to the Castle from various parts of Westeros.

~ You don't get rid of these two dragons even while giving birth. If you ask your mother or another family member, they will say that they are your only family and that they are with you. They do not agree to leave your side until the birth is over. They don't leave you alone no matter how long it takes. Queen Visenya wipes the sweat from your forehead and face with a cloth. Maegor holds your hand with one hand, while the other supports you on your shoulder. They both support you verbally. Maegor gently puts pressure on your belly so that the baby can come out when needed.

~ The gender of the baby born is not important. As long as you and the baby are healthy, they don't care. Maegor will say that he is not disappointed or upset that he is not the son. You will try until you become a son. Queen Visenya agrees with her son. If it's a girl, she'll want to name the baby after herself.

~ Visenya will take care of you until you are fully recovered. For the second child, he will order his son not to approach you until your body is fully healed. He refuses to put you in danger. Maegor readily agrees so as not to endanger you.

~ Queen Visenya will teach the baby Valyrian language and history. She will learn how to use swords and other weapons from her grandmother and from the best masters. Maegor will go for rides on Dragon's back with his child.

~ Every child you give birth to is loved by them.They will all be pampered and protected. They will burn anyone who tries to harm or insult them. Maegor is trying to get you pregnant as best he can. Queen Visenya wants you to give birth to her grandchildren as long as they don't harm your health. Maegor tries very hard to be the best father for children.

~ They panic a lot when you get sick or injured. They don't stop worrying until you get better and regain yourself. They will take care of you until you regain your health. They cannot entrust you to anyone in your sensitive state.

~ They're showering you with lots of presents. Clothes, jewellery, gold, luxury and expensive fabrics, books, works of art and much more. They will provide all the necessary things so that you can do your hobbies while you are in your room.

~ Maegor would never cheat on you. From the day he married you, he does not look at or touch any other woman. Even his first wife, Ceryseni, will no longer visit. No one can tell Maegor anything about it. If Cerys and her family try to do anything about it, Maegor and Queen Visenya will silence them.

~ Punishments will be more isolation. They prefer psychological and emotional punishments more. They do not hesitate to manipulate and use guilt against you when necessary.

~ You can't escape them in any way. Even if you run away, they will find you and bring you back no matter how long it takes. No one will help you with them. (Because they are afraid.) If anyone helps, they will execute them all.

Yandere Fisherman x F!Mermaid Reader

Warnings: Obsessive behaviors, Stalking, Kidnapping, Implied murder(?)

A/n: I tried to use actual boat terminology idk if it’s right lmao, but enjoy ♡ (not proofread)

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Mermaid!reader that loves to hang out with her marine friends during the bright afternoons. Exploring underwater caves, collecting the prettiest shells, telling spooky stories in sunken ships. Life was beautiful under the sea.

Mermaid!reader who was dared by Kai the stingray to go one of the many forbidden zones (the one infested with humans.) Despite her fear and uncertainty, she couldn't let that flat face call her a guppie!

Mermaid!reader who encounters dozens of dinghies once in the sunlight zone. Consumed with curiosity, she swam closer to the strange shiny devices hanging from the small ships. Yes the ocean floor collected the ships and it's artifacts, but she had never seen such a device.

Mermaid!reader who felt nothing but awe at the plastic fish that they(the fisherman) threw into the sea from their barnacle covered boats, fascinated by their unusual bright colours and shapes. Giggles at the confusion of her friends, their gurgles of excitement sending waves of bubbles along the currents.

Mermaid!reader who starts investigating with her marine friends but finds out the hard way what the plastic is truly meant to do and it breaks her heart. Dozens of her friends gone in a blink of an eyes, yanked into the unknown world. Mourns for the loss of her friends blaming herself for the lack of awareness, makes herself a promise that no other innocent being would be taken.

Mermaid!reader who helps fishes avoid the sharp hooks, warning all that wander too close that they could be snatched up and never seen again. Swears on Poseidon that no more of her friends will be stolen.

Mermaid!reader who actively tracks ships and fishing patterns. Herding the small guppies and airhead fishes away from the coast, sure they understood warnings but that didn't stop their curiosity or lack of awareness.

Mermaid!reader starts using her sharp iridescent shell to cut the fishing lines and collect the plastic bait, the humans obviously aren't using them so what's the harm in collecting them? Besides it would stop her friends from being caught up by the glittering they produced.

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.

Yandere!fisherman frustrated from the sacristy of fish coming in. His profit and family business plummeting to the ground from lack of customers.

Yandere!fisherman swore he would get to the bottom of this. His grandmother didn't break every bone in her body for this business to die a sudden death!

Yandere!fisherman who now, never leaves his modest boat, camouflaging himself to stalk the waters every hour of the day. Waits for days with no activity, his sour mood getting even fouler. "If there's nothing there, then where all the bloody fish?!"

Yandere!fisherman who spots a large fin lift out from the water one early morning, a quiet splash following. Snatching his binoculars off the stern pulpit he spotted a human like figure bobbing around the water, clicks his tongue in frustration about to look away when splash! A pearlescent tail jerks out of the water, his eyes traveled along the long fin only to find it connect to the figure he saw previously. Wide eyes stare at the strange creature entranced.

Yandere!fisherman shellshocked from the discovery, sure his grandmother told his stories about how merpeople lived in these water but he just thought it was a bad eyesight and manatees! To think she was right. Wonder soon turned into animosity, so this was the creature causing a shortage of food?

Yandere!fisherman who starts tracking the mermaids every move, determined to capture it. Thinks of the amount of money he would make by selling the exotic legend. He could see it now, towers of gold stacked to the clouds, a large home fit for a king, no longer having to break his back to scrape together enough money to pay his bills, his very being bathed in riches. Oh yes, he would have the sea beast . Dead or alive.

Yandere!fisherman after weeks of planning, decides it's time to capture the beast. Makes a custom bottom trawl, out of clear wire, adjusting it enough to fit the mutant, takes extra care to make it sturdy. As any good fisherman would do, he starts to track her movements.

Yandere!fisherman who writes in detail the spots she would mostly visit(the abandoned boats near the colorful reef seemed to be her favorite?), what distance she was most comfortable in(half a mile away from the dock but continuously inching closer) what time she preferred to come (right as the sun peeked out from the horizon.)

Yandere!fisherman finds out that the mermaid had been stealing the bait deliberately, his callous hands wrap around his booklet in fury wringing the innocent leather, another thing he had to worry about thanks to it.

Yandere!fisherman finally gets a glimpse of the creatures face. Is stunned stupid to see such beautiful features, every detail in her face seemed as they were sculpted by hand with utmost care. The blue hue of the water did little to obscure her beauty, feels something in his chest tighten but brushes it off.

Yandere!fisherman dreams now invaded by the unknown woman. Her opal like scales that seemed softer than cotton, the halo of hair that followed her whenever she moved, bright eyes filled with childlike wonder. Soft supple lips lifted into a small smile. The feeling in his chest returns.

Yandere!fisherman commences his plan at night, gently tossing the net into the water far away from his boat. Lies in wait, white knuckling the thick rope connected to the net ready to pull at any moments notice. Sees the beautiful beast nearing his trap, grits teeth "come on.." he jerks the net snatching the side of her body, her right arm and fin tangled in the thick plastic. Bubbles flurry to the surface panicked splashing accompanying it.

Yandere!fisherman who yanks the net forward creating small waves, the veins in his arms bulging from the amount of force takes large steps back bringing her closer. Has her a few feet away from boat when SNAP the net collapses into itself, her body freeing with every thrash. Let's out a scream of frustration watching the mermaid flee the scene quickly.

⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.🐚⋆❀˖° ⋆｡𖦹 °.

Mermaid!reader swimming back home in pure shock clutching her iridescent shell, unable to filter in the million of questions her friends asked her.

Mermaid!reader who thinks of all the fables and stories of humans snatching merpeople were true, she knew that much, but never did she think she would be one of the missing. She had been so careful, not following the same path or reappearing in the same spot.

Mermaid!reader stays cocooned in her shell like home for days, the soft hues of pink and yellow calming her soul. Small treasures displayed on weaved seaweed shelves warmed her heart, creating a bubble of peace in her rampant mind. The human objects she collected overtime glared at her, an uneasy feeling urged herself to stuff the objects deep in sand. To forget about them and everything about the surface. To forget about the existence of humans.

Mermaid!reader traces the angry marks that indented her tail, curling further on her kelp bed. Regrets taking the dare that made her get so close to the land. She could have been blissfully blind if she just stayed with the cities limits, unburdened with the knowledge of what the coast held. Shivering at the daunting feeling, she imagined what awaited her the moment she broke through the surface.

Mermaid!reader who wants to stay rooted right where she was but the other part who knew the truth, she knew she would have to go back and help her friends. But to go back was a death wish there was no telling that luck would be on her side once more, memories of her stolen friends flashed through her mind.

Mermaid!reader with her mind set, decides to go back. Asks around her city hoping to find out more about humans only to hit dead end after dead end. Deflated, swims to the coral library wanting at least to brush up on the human tales that once scared her when she was guppie.

Mermaid!reader who draws a map of sector starfish. Noting where she was almost taken, she tries to remember where her fish friends would go. They weren’t the brightest bunch so she knew they would be scattered through out the water. Despite the numerous problem she was faced with, she pushes forward.

Mermaid!reader who stays at the edge of the sunlight zone, worry seeps in her veins her tail thrashing in agitating. “It’s not a big deal..I’m just going back to the place where I was almost taken, it’s fine. It’s fine, I’m fine..”. She took a deep breath before releasing, groups bubbles tumbled from her mouth caressing her features. A soothing warmness settles in her chest at the feeling as she tried to the keep up with the uncoherent thoughts she had.

Mermaid!reader cautious of every little thing, swimming as slow as possible. Decides to split the area into smaller sectors, one sector a day. That'll keep her safe. Hopefully. Days slowly crawl by, her wavered confidence stayed stagnant riddled with the anxiety of ‘what if’s?’

Mermaid!reader shakes her head disappointed at the fish who swim merrily around the few hooks in sector starfish. ‘All those warnings floated away from them’ she thought glumly. Sees Kai the stingray stuck in a large net, doesn't hesitate to swim forward sharp shell in hand pushing away her dread.

Mermaid!reader determination set in her features she prepared herself to slash haphazardly trying to free her friend as quickly as possible. Let's out a scream of terror dropping her weapon, realizing her friend was already dead and gutted.

Mermaid!reader distracted by the horrifying scene set in front of her, she barely felt another net underneath the sand lift upwards speedily creating a cage around her.

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Yandere!fisherman who is quite glum from the lack of appearance of his prize-bag of money. Rereads his booklet, noting she would appear most when the tides were rising. The perfect time when fish would trickle in like children at a sweets shop. Reinforces a seine net and buries it in the sand underneath his ship, is about to rise from the water when he spots stray stingray swimming away from his curious eyes.

Yandere!fisherman couldn’t help but to smile.

Mermaid!reader who's dropped onto the floor the modest boat unceremoniously. Starts to beg the burly fisherman to let her go, that she only wanting to keep her friends safe "Please! I mean you no harm! How would you feel if hundreds of your friends where snatched away from home and they were never seen again? Understand me" she pleaded, voice getting hoarse from lack of water. Her limbs ached from the drop, the tight net reopening the wounds on her shimmering tail and torso.

Yandere!fisherman after weeks of watching her from the boat can't help but to tune her out. Not that her voice wasn't as sugary as he imagined, but to finally be able to drink in her foreign features. Euphoria drenched his body, this was real.

Yandere!fisherman thinks of the dreams that haunted him each night, were nothing compared to reality. Entranced by every crease, mole, and scar that covered her very being, studying her features he memorized every little detail. Dark eyes taking in the strange clothing she wore, lingering on the open wounds on her opalescent tail.

Yandere!fisherman who feels cold at the thought of someone else feasting on her beauty. He was the only one deserved to look at her, he watched for months, weeks of planning and yearning to get to this moment. He knew her. She was his. No one was worthy enough to bathe in her beauty. "Shhh, it's okay. Oh, have I got some plans for you sweetheart. But don't you worry your pretty little head about anything, I’ll take care of everything.”

Amity Parker Don't understand other Hero cities.

And started a massive pilgrimage to Amity Park.

It all started when a few people from Amity Park went on a field trip to other hero cities and got very confused pretty fast. - What do you mean people die here so often in hero fights? - What do you mean by buildings getting destroyed and not fixed? (blob Ghost do that all the time, they seem to love it!) Are your hero not doing their job!!!?

At first, the people of Gotham, Metropolis, Coast City, Bludhaven, or Dakoto City were pissed, but after the people of Amity Park just said they should stay a few weeks in their city, they would notice it. After one week in the new city,  most people moved out of their city to Amity Park. While this city had once a week has a world-ending threat, that threat seems to just have fun with the child hero in a fight. And those people helped them. The Victims of Scarecrow actually got help from the Master of Fear Fright Knight, who fixed their minds.

Number 1 rule in Amity Park - Don't feed the tiny cryptid Fenton after 10 p.m.; the last time we had winter in the summer was because of that. - Yes, they are fangs, and they are real. Don't try to let yourself be bitten. When he slept, the last one almost lost their hand. + The other Hero in their cities didn't take long to notice it, that they have significantly fewer people living in their cities. Like most of their cities, they lost 30–50% of their civilians! And no one seems to want to tell them where they are, as more civilians are leaving!

*NSFW* I'll keep you warm (Yandere!Lynx Shifter X GN!Reader)

CW: Intense temperature exposure , Yandere behavior, dub-con, dead dove, imprisonment/abduction

Inspired by @lonelyafacy 's monster suggestion ❤️

Mother Nature was a cruel and indifferent witch, unforgiving towards those foolish enough to tread her wilderness. (Reader) smacked their dying flashlight, becoming numb to the harsh winter cold through their snowsuit.

The weather had turned for the worse, changing from a snowy winter's day into a blizzard that lasted into the night, separating (Reader) from their group. Their lips were stuck together with frozen blood, and their eyes could barley stay open. The snow coming down was deceptively sharp, nicking their cheeks above the slipping scarf and turning their skin into fragile paper.

Although they pushed on, trying to use the stars amongst the flurry of white as their guide, their limbs were losing their feeling, and (Reader) was beginning to wonder if it was worth the battle. The flashlight flickered again as though it could hear their thoughts. (Reader's) knees buckled, causing them to collapse by the base of a tree. They pulled their limbs in under their body, and fell unconscious, incapable of keeping themselves awake through the cold.

Am I dead?

(Reader) smelled something cooking before they realized they felt warmth. They hadn't been anywhere near civilization, so the first semi coherent thought they had was that they had died and this was heaven. Until their muscles began twitching in pain. A large hand pressed (Reader) back into a mound of furs when they forced themselves to move. The hand was warm and strong, even through the blankets (Reader) could feel it.

"Sleep." A gravelly voice commanded.

(Reader) kept their eyes closed, face mostly buried in the cloud like bedding. "Where am I?"

"My home. I found you outside." The unknown man responded while moving around the home, floorboards creaking under his weight. "Sleep more. It'll hurt less." His sentences were short and curt, but (Reader) didn't mind. Whoever he was had saved their life, so he couldn't be too bad of a person. (Reader) fell asleep again.

After thirteen hours (Reader) woke up and was able to sit up without pain, still feeling exhausted despite sleeping for such a long time. Their stomach hurt from hunger. "Hello?" They called out for whoever had rescued them.

A giant entered into view, wearing a hood that obscured his face from (Reader). He held out a wooden bowl filled with some kind of stew. "Can you eat?"

(Reader) reached out from the blankets, immediately going into shock when they saw their own naked arms. "Where are my clothes?"

"Drying. You think I'd put you sopping wet in my bed?"

Embarrassed, (Reader) turned red, ashamed for doubting their hero for even a second. They grabbed the bowl, thanking the man quietly.

"The blizzard has gotten worse. Even I can't leave right now. Once the storm has passed I'll point you in the direction you need to go. Until then, stay warm. Heal up."

"...Thank you."

"You already said that."

"That was for the food. Thank you for saving me."

Although he had his back turned to (Reader) they could see him tense under their words. (Reader) assumed he was uncomfortable with their presence, based on how he kept his face hidden. "My name is (Reader)."

"You don't need to know my name." The man's response was almost panicked, growling as he stormed out of the room.

(Reader) was left upset over the fact that they seemed to anger their savior. He must be anti social..

They finished the bowl of stew and waited under the fur blankets, unable to take care of their dish without walking around in the nude. After some time he returned, taking the bowl without a word, his hand seemed huge in comparison to (Reader's).

"Thank you." They smiled up politely, hoping he was looking. The man shuddered again, hurrying away with the bowl. (Reader) cleared their throat. "Are my clothes dry yet?"

"Your jacket was frozen solid when I found you. It took a few hours just to thaw. Everything is still damp."

"Why were you outside in this weather?"

"I was on my way back from some last minute hunting and gathering."

"Ah, I see. Thank you. Again."

"There is no need to thank me." His body seemed to relax. (Reader) smiled, hoping that this meant they were wearing him down.

"You saved my life. I got separated from my friends and couldn't find my way in the dark. I would have died out there if it wasn't for you." (Reader) spoke as sincerely as they could. "You're my hero."

He took a deep breath. "I have... lived alone for a very long time. No one knows that I am here. I almost... left you, when I found you."

(Reader's) heart grew heavy with guilt. "I promise I won't tell anyone about you." They briefly imagined that under his cloak was a kind of Quasimodo esque being, who risked his identity to save them.

Even without seeing his face the man seemed surprised, turning to (Reader) and staring from under his hood.

"Cain."

(Reader) gave a large toothy grin. "It's nice to meet you, Cain."

They sat together in a strangely comfortable silence, before a gurgle reminded (Reader) that, unfortunately, they were still human. "Do you have a restroom?"

His relaxed demeanor stiffened again. "It is.. down the hall." He quickly handed an oversized shirt to (Reader) before turning his back for privacy, and pointes in the direction of the facilities.

(Reader) threw the shirt on without thinking too much about it, and painfully hopped to the toilet. The building was a cozy little cabin, (Reader) was just now realizing, with pictures hung up on the wall of a family. They wondered if it was Cain's family. But the need to go was stronger than their curiosity.

They collapsed onto the toilet before realizing that there was an odd smell in the bathroom. It wasn't the normal bad stench of a toiletries, but it smelled rotten.

In the corner of the room was a pile of clothes, and other than that the restroom seemed to be empty, with nothing that could be causing such a smell standing out to (Reader). (Reader) didn't want to be snoopy, but... They finished hurriedly, praying that Cain couldn't hear them, and picked up the clothing. The clothes were heavy, torn into shreds and soaked in old, dried blood. A chill ran down (Reader's) spine. Cain didn't want anyone to know he was here. He considered leaving me to die to keep that secret.

How far could I make it in just a shirt?

They left the restroom, trying their best to appear normal. The family on the walls taunted them. Did the blood belong to one of them?

Cain sat by the fire, still hiding under his cloak. Next to him was (Reader's) clothes, hung up on the back of a chair. Maybe I'm just jumping to conclusions. (Reader) sighed, placing a hand on their heart to muffle it's pounding. He still saved me.

(Reader) touched their shirt, feeling the warm dampness and was relieved, because it meant Cain hadn't been lying about that at least. "How long do you think this storm will last?"

"Hopefully just the night. It could last up to a week though."

They shivered at the thought. "Do you have a couch I can sleep on? I wouldn't want to take your bed. Again."

"You can take the bed."

"I'm really fine-"

"Take the bed."

(Reader) could feel the adrenaline shoot to the tips of their toes. "O-okay." Although there was a smile on their face, the previous comfort they felt around Cain was dead. They had trusted him so much simply because he rescued them that they had forgotten that Cain was still a stranger.

Cain grabbed (Reader's) wrist as they passed, his hand engulfing their forearm with his inhumanly large mits. The air became heavy, and (Reader) could feel their arm sweating in his strong grasp.

"Your hand smells like blood."

Frightened, (Reader) smacked at Cain with their free hand, knocking his hood back. Although his face looked only a few years older than (Reader) his shaggy hair was a light grey, and atop his head were two pointed ears, pressed back against his scalp. If it weren't for the coloration, (Reader) CO m wouldn't have noticed the ears at all with how flatly they laid against his head. Shocked, he released (Reader's) arm, giving them enough time bolt out the front door, back into the blizzard.

Snowflakes pierced their skin as they ran, and the warmth they had gained in the cabin was gone the moment they left it's protective embrace, robbed by the harsh environment. Barefoot, (Reader) ran in a random direction, not capable of rational thought. With fight, flight, or freeze, they learned in that moment what kind of person they were.

Between the clouds masking the stars and the onslaught of snow, (Reader) was left completely blind. Without any clothes it felt like their muscles were shredding in their legs. (Reader's) legs gave out much more easily than they had the first time.

(Reader) could barely hear Cain's footsteps above the roar of the wind. Through the trees a large grey monster stalked into view, walking on its hind legs like a man, it's terrifying size was more reminiscent of a bear's. It's ears were flattened, and there was an almost human like expression of disappointment on its face.

"What were you thinking, running off into the woods?" It's voice was hoarse, but it was recognizably Cain's.

As he approached his fur receded, shrinking back down into his more human form, still with animal ears, now naked in the snow. He bent over (Reader's) violently shivering form as they crumbled.

"Did you forget that there was a storm?"

(Reader's) eyes stung as they tried to cry. "Please don't kill me." They weakly pleaded.

"Why would I save you, only to kill you later?" His warm breath thawed (Reader's) cheek. "You were unconscious for a long time when I found you. I thought you were dead. Unlike myself, you needed shelter suitable for a human. So I took one. I didn't have time to clean up everything. I needed to bring back everything I had caught to begin preparing a meal for when you awoke and making it comfortable for when I would eventually make you mine, so I was hoping that you would understand. That I killed them for you."

Cain's hot tongue licked (Reader's) cheek, the juxtaposition between the extreme cold and his sudden warmth made their skin feel like it was being torn off. (Reader) gasped out in pain, too cold to scream.

"I really did almost leave you in the snow. Because what if you left? Found out what I was and told the other humans? But look at you... Were you even conscious when you begged me to save you? Or was that your body acting on its own?" Cain got onto his knees, his skin searing (Reader's) flesh. His fingers digging into their shoulders felt like flames dancing across their body. Each touch from Cain burned. It was neither comforting nor pleasant.

"Ah, but now you're nearly frozen, yet again. Do you want me to warm you up?" Everytime Cain shifted his weight above (Reader), they were exposed to the blistering wind. As the parts of them hidden under Cain's body warmed up in his unnatural heat, the more excruciating the exposure to the outside was.

Tears melted (Reader's) fragile eyes. "Please, warm me up, Cain." Their primitive need for survival made (Reader) beg like a pathetic coward.

The loving smile on Cain's face was brief, before his face began shifting, becoming the humanoid monster he was moments earlier. Dwarfing the terrified human, he ran his rough tongue across their cold body, purposely allowing their body to freeze without his touch before warming (Reader) back up. He relished in the needy whimpers escaping (Reader's) lips as they suffered in the deadly temperature. (Reader) grasped at Cain's fur, trying to pull him in to steal his heat.

Clawed paws grabbed (Reader's) thighs, pressing their knees to their head uncomfortably. (Reader's) eyes widened in horror as Cain revealed his cock, resting it across their exposed bottom. They didn't have time to protest before their body was folded into a mating press, no preparation for their tightened hole, no warning to help them relax. Cain pressed his tip to the opening, and snapped his hips into (Reader's), thrusting in his entire member without lubricant.

Cain's dick was already hot, but with the added pain of the sudden insertion it was like being fucked by an iron poker. The scream (Reader) couldn't find earlier now ripped through their throat, the sound of their agony drowned out by the howling wind.

(Reader) pushed Cain away in surprise, but immediately regretted the action when he playfully leaned back, allowing (Reader's) chest to be assaulted by the snow and hail pelting them from all sides. They pulled him back, cringing at how Cain chuckled in their ear.

He fucked them in the snow, pressing deep into their gut painfully, and humiliating (Reader) further by licking away their tears as they sobbed under his body, incapable of pushing him away. Cain could stop at any moment, but the threat of frost bite kept (Reader) latching onto him, begging him not to let go. Their desperate cries only encouraged Cain to continue teasing them, watching with glee as their skin chapped and bled without his touch.

"It hurts..." (Reader) moaned as they pulled him in deeper.

"If you keep whining like that you'll only make me cum faster." Cain threatened, biting (Reader's) neck to hold in a gasp when they tightened around him. Their knees smacked into their temples as his pace sped up, his twitching cock threatening to release deep inside (Reader).

"No! Don't cum inside me!" (Reader) blubbered into the monster's fur.

(Reader) felt a wave of heat blast inside them as Cain pumped his thick load into their raw hole. As they wept loudly Cain continued happily smacking his wet pelvis into his beloved's, just the action of fucking his seed into them turning him on again.

Cain was already planning their futures together, as (Reader) imagined their death. This wouldn't be so bad, fucking (Reader) like this; purposefully keeping them needy so they clung to him like they wanted it.

Maybe one day, (Reader) would love him in the same way as Cain loved them, and would beg Cain to make love to them, but for now, he was content fucking them like a desperate, wild animal.

Blood from the wind burns and from the tearing from rough sex stained the white white under their bodies. Cain turned back into a human so he could kiss (Reader) passionately, taste their mouth salty from their tears.

"Let's go home, (Reader)."

Raising Zeus's child

(stay with me)

Imagine these; (reader is/can be both or neither genders but I will be using female pronouns, please change if wanted)

You are a single, unmarried, person in Greece, everyone else's lives are normal but yours, you didn't have sex with Zeus but you do end up raising his kid, the woman he originally had sex with found out Zeus wasn't gonna stay for her so she just... Didn't keep the baby, I mean, she kept in until it could talk and walk before leaving it...

but luckily, or unfortunately, you stepped in and took her place, though you didn't want kids you couldn't leave him there either so you took him in. At this point he could talk so when you tried to figure out where his parents were he had informated you his father was "that man" and pointed at the statue of Zeus, at first you thought it was cute before slowly realizing the boy... Looked... Like.. a younger... Smaller... Zeus. It clicked and now for your own safety your keeping the child, you raise the child as your own, and doing everything in your power to be seen as good in all the gods' eyes in case they came to get him whenever

"hey little buddy, where your mommy? " --R (reader)

"she weft me " --COZ ( child of Zeus)

" oh no, I'm so sorry... What about daddy? Where's daddy? " --R

" his that man mama keeps telling me... " --COZ

" awe.... Oh my-- " --R

(later)

" buddy!-- hey tiny immortal person, we do not climb trees, no no we do not. You can play with sticks safely, you can play with the leafs, you cannot climb a tree because you can fall, get hurt and no one is happy, hmm, yeah. So please come down and eat some bread, then you can throw leaf's as much as you like " --R

I'm going to need all of you to hear me out on what I'm about to spew, but I have yandere!batfam brain rot, and I just came across Yan!girldad!nolan grayson.

HEAR ME OUT!

Putting a page break here cuz idk how long this will be-

So- the usual neglected batsis that as a youngster craved the attention of her fam, but after being brushed away, after being ignored, after being straight up forgotten about, says fuck it, y'all aren't worth my love, I'll use the Wayne money to do as I please.

So she does. She uses the monthly allowance that is on auto pay straight to her card to do arts, to paint her heart away, to draw and play video games, to fund and pay off anything from homeless shelters to medical bills, trying to make a dent into the Wayne fortune both in selfish and non-selfish ways. She's basically a petty tween.

But then she wakes up with powers. She thinks she's a meta- batman doesn't like metas, that's what she thinks, she doesn't know Bruce doesn't want metas in Gotham due to Gotham being ground zero for meta trafficking. Boom, panic.

I think she has powers like flying, super strength, and like immediate healing if not "iron skin" like Superman. So she wakes because she hits the ceiling due to flying while asleep. She panics, falls, maybe breaks something, nobody comes to check on her-

Now, she always has toyed with the idea of leaving, but this? THIS? Breaking point, she packs necessities and the Wayne card and says bye-bye Gotham, good morning... Chicago? NYC? Idk, whichever place Omni man lives in ig.

The batfam, of course, doesn't notice. In this universe, I think even Alfred won't have been paying that much attention to batsis, man's too busy. So what if one day he does his rounds, cleaning, opens a door he hasn't been in a while.

The room is dusty. Dusty beyond hell, and one singular photo of batsis at like a kindergarten graduation makes him drop everything, including his heart. Old man goes feral, absolutely crazy, because where the fuck is this kid, this little baby, that he went and picked up because Bruce couldn't be bothered.

The batfam goes crazy too. In the mean time-

Batsis is, surprisingly, living her best life. Initially, she planned on getting an under the table job- clean a bar, babysit, be the errand girl of some shady drag dealer, etc. But Nolan sees her while she tries to get her powers under control, shakily flying, accidentally blowing to pieces a tree as she leans against it.

Omni-man as he lurks in the shadows: Debbie would love a daughter. I would love a daughter.

Batsis would call it kidnapping, Nolan calls it adopting without extra steps. Debbie takes one look at this shaken kid and immediately goes mama mode while reprimanding Nolan about taking a kid off the streets and not warning her so she could prepare better.

Mark? It takes about 2 hours before he realizes that they can be training buddies and that they have similar taste in some things. That's his baby sister. No arguments, just baby sis. Batsis? Much like a hungry, cold cat, she accepts her fate. It does feel nice to finally have some attention on her.

So she trains with Nolan and Mark, gets great, becomes a reluctant superhero, deliberately ignores Nolan's rants about her becoming such a great warrior, his little girl on the way of becoming the greatest conquror. Gothamite batsis just shrugs it off as just a Thursday.

Back with the batfam, pure chaos. Everyone is in shambles. How could they forget about a whole kid? Their siblings, Bruce's youngest daughter. Guilt is slowly turning into madness, and madness is slowly turning into a need to prove they can be better, that they weren't deliberately overlooking an innocent child because of personal pettiness, they were just distracted but now they'll right their wrongs.

Bonus p1:

Superman finally meeting batsis: What do you mean you're Bruce's kid? 😃 What do you mean you're a meta and instead of coming to uncle Clark you go and get adopted by murderous Omni-man? 🙂 What do you mean you kinda approve of him killing his enemies? 🫠

Batsis just wants Joker to die.

Bonus pt2:

Dick: What do you mean she's calling that other Grayson boy big brother? 😀

Damien: What do you mean I have another sibling? What do you mean she's calling that purple alien bastard her little brother?! I blame you, father.

Bonus pt3:

John Constantine: WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU GAVE ONE OF BATMAN'S KIDS IMMORTALITY AND MAGICAL POWERS?

The deity/entity batsis has been depicting in her paintings for years: *shrugs* I was bored, my little priestess was sad, she's not anymore 🤷

That's the plot twist, batsis is actually magical, but her powers work the way they do because that's the only way she knows how to fight with them. Magic isn't on her thought as a possibility, even if she was into the occult.

Cue John drinking for 3 days straight before having the courage(or will) to go to the Bat.

Mother Dearest and Darling Daughter

Yandere Batfam w/ Wife/Mother!Darling & Daughter/Sister!Darling Masterlist

New Additions

Least Hated Brother

New School

Nightmares

Littlest Big Brother

Mother May I?

Hopeless

Bonus: Author’s Sketches & some cute thoughts about the darlings

Unhappy Family

Checkmate

Cats Are Better Than Bats

Never Acting Again

Son/Brother!Darling

Suspended

Press

A Boy

Owls and Bats

Gotham Knights AU

Childish Behavior

Boyfriend Appearance

Mother’s Protection

Copycat

Man of Steel & Laughter of Owls

Raccoon

Future Visits

Miscarriage

DCxDP Idea - Tucker x Tim Soulmate AU:

Now on AO3

So the Justice League believes the Fentons and the GIW. Not completely, but enough. That’s the bad news. The worse news is that they have Danny, and are apparently planning to use him in some kind of spell to banish all the ghosts from the living plane. Which, okay, sure, not the worst idea, except that trying to banish a Liminal is a great way to kill them instead, and guess what everyone in Amity Park is? Not to mention what powering such a ritual could do to Danny.

Tucker is not having a panic attack. He might have one later, but right now he has a job to do.

So the thing about the Justice League is that they’re powerful and together they cover each other’s weaknesses, but individually they are, if not manageable, then at least survivable. They can’t take on the entire league, but Ghosts and their ilk have fangs for a reason, and every predator knows how to divide and conquer.

Technus and Skulker are using Lex Luthor’s tech to deal with the Supers. Jazz has got emotional manipulation and FrightKnight’s sword to take down the Flashes. Desiree agreed to start a mage’s duel with the Justice League Dark. Sam, Ember, Johnny, and Kitty hopefully have the watchtower in hand, with Walker playing backup to get Danny free.

Tucker has two jobs. One, work with Technus to take down the Justice League communications without making it look like anything is up. Two, for the love of the Ancients, do not let the Bats realize something is wrong.

And you know what? He’s got this. Duul Aman was the most feared sorcerer of his time. Tucker isn’t him, not really, but he’s no slouch in the magic department. Egyptian magic, the way Duul Aman knew it, was almost like code. Relearning it was as easy as breathing, but the real reason Tucker’s job is to deal with the bats is because he took it further than his last life ever could. Sure, he’s a dab hand at illusions, his curses are almost as nasty as Sam’s, and instant sandstorms are never not useful, but where he really thrives is with tech. Afterall, if ectoplasm can be combined with computers, why can’t magic?

Tucker is the world's first technomage and he’s goddamn proud of it.

It’s his saving grace now. Infiltrating Oracle’s system took weeks, and he still wasn’t able to look at or do anything important, but it was enough of an opening for his magic. He wormed his illusion through every single piece of bat-tech he could reach, whispering in their ear, Gotham needs you. The Justice League is fine. Gotham is where the problems are. 

Weeks of work and sleepless nights, and he still doubts he’ll be able to keep them from noticing anything for more than a few hours. Luckily, by that time Danny will be free and Tucker will be long gone from Gotham.

This confidence lasts until he brushes hands with another guy in the cafe. He can feel the bond snap into place, a soulmark crawling across his body. Tim Drake stares at him, eyes wide but sharp. 

Tim Drake.

Red Robin.

Shit.

Time to see whether fighting ghosts extends to fighting humans, because he is not letting this asshole mess up Danny’s rescue.

+++

The first thing Tim notices when he meets his soulmate is the rage in the man’s eyes.

They’re really pretty eyes. A bright, glowing gold, lined in kohl. Almost certainly a sign of magic. 

They look at him like the man wants to turn him inside out and burn the remains. Tim’s a little offended, beneath the shock and awe.

“Fuck,” the man hisses. Tim’s offense is starting to supersede his surprise. He’s a catch, thank you very much.

He says as much. The man laughs, and it’s almost friendly.  The cafe is empty. The people of Gotham have good instincts, and there’s something in the air around this man that puts Tim’s hackles up.

“You know, I think that’d be more believable if you hadn’t started this.”

Tim’s brow wrinkled. He felt like he’d remember starting something with his soulmate though? What was he supposed to have started, anyway? Saying ‘this’ wasn’t very specific. 

He rolled and dodged to avoid the sudden lash of golden sand. Ah. A fight. He could do that. Figure out why his soulmate was angry later, defeat him now.

He reached up to call for backup and only got static.

Shit.

He was on his own. Time to show this bastard why underestimating a bat was a bad idea.

This is really well written

The Ghost of Harding Manor

Friedrich Harding x Reader

Summary: Your marriage is haunted by the ghost of the wife who came before you, and the walls of Harding Manor bear witness to your husband's descent into madness.

warnings: Dub-Con, loss of virginity, obsession, unsure if stalking counts if it takes place in your own home, implied chronically ill!reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

♱

You were not Anna.

You were reminded every day from the moment you wed Friedrich Harding and became his missus that you were not Anna. Anna who was perfect and said the right things and walked the right way and was a walking temptation to the man she called her husband. Anna who—even in death—called to Friedrich from beyond and was nearly successful if it were not for strong hands and strong voices keeping the dark-haired man from throwing himself into her coffin with her. Anna who was well on her way to giving your husband a third child.

Anna whose touch still lingered in this home and along these walls and in the long dead flowers that Friedrich refused to throw out.

Anna who haunted you much more than she haunted your new husband.

Illness had not just taken the angelic beauty, but her three children with her, one never even getting the chance to take his first breath. In your solitude, you sometimes thought that you did not know what was worse—their two daughters remaining and forcing you to fill the void the other woman left in multiple lives…or your life as it were as you were forced to give Friedrich a whole new family and reason for existing.

You knew from the moment you became betrothed that you had a heavy vacancy to fill…but it seemed that Friedrich had no intention of you filling it.

“He does not touch me, mother.”

The words were whispered in the quiet home one day, and you looked around, ignoring the feel of the older woman’s gaze in favor of imagining what this house must have been like before the tragedy. You imagined how loud it must have been with two animated little girls running around. You imagined how good Friedrich must have been with them, and thoughts of Anna welcoming him home with a kiss and her arms full made your heart sink.

You were not her.

The advice of your mother went into one ear and out the other. You had long accepted that you were a poor replacement that Friedrich could hardly stand to look at. You were alone on your wedding night and again the night after that and the night after that. You were always alone, and the few glimpses that you got of your husband since the wedding day only proved fruitful in your gazes meeting for a stolen moment…and then he was gone again.

You were always alone, and he was always gone…

Until the morning you would not rise from your bed.

The fever struck you in the night, and by the time morning came you felt weighed down by sand. Any strength you had was used to keep your breathing as even as possible, unable to even muster an attempt to open your eyes and tell your cold husband that you were well. Conversations swirled around your head for what felt like days, and in between the feverish dreams, you caught diagnoses and assurances here and there.

“It is merely a cold,” the doctor told Friedrich. “Her body is fighting it quite well, and she will be like new in a matter of days.”

You recalled agreeing with the assessment, feeling more fatigued than anything else—you’d always been rather sickly—but your peace had been broken for the first time in months. The voice of your husband had reached your ears—so broken and angry and unlike anything you had experienced with him.

“...and how exactly did this come about? She never even leaves the house, for God’s sake.”

You heard the rustle of fabric and heavy steps and an even heavier sigh.

“In a matter of a night, my wife has taken ill, and I am assured that she will recover in no time, but I have heard that before…” his voice shook. “I will not bury another wife—I cannot!”

It all seemed so unlike him, and so you convinced yourself that you merely dreamt it up. The fever was clouding your mind and making you conjure up your innermost desires, namely Friedrich caring for you for more than just a societal duty to bear sons that would carry on his name. You allowed yourself to slip into darkness and dream some more.

A masculine hand in yours, a finger tracing patterns into your stomach through the fabric of the bedding, soft lips brushing along your fingers and facial hair tickling your flesh. Your mind conjured up all sorts of things that simply could not be true, and yet when you fully opened your eyes for the first time in days, you were not alone.

It was not easy to place the look upon Friedrich’s face as he stared down at you, towering over your bed with a smoke in hand and dark circles beneath his eyes. He did not look well himself, and you could not help running your eyes over him, wondering just how much sleep he had gotten this past week. The room was quiet as you two just stared at each other, and just as you parted your lips to inquire about his own health, he was abruptly turning away from you. His voice rang throughout the house as he demanded someone send for the doctor.

It was only hours later that it was professionally confirmed that you were almost as good as new and would probably only have to put up with a light cough for the next day or two. Hearing those words relieved you, and when you looked up at your husband, you could not tell if he shared your relief. You frowned up at him as the doctor poked and prodded at you, wondering, for the first time, just what the dark-haired young man was thinking.

He only stared back.

In fact, he only ever stared these days.

When you were walking through the silent house much like the ghost that haunted your marriage, you could feel the heavy weight of his stare pressing down on you. It was not easy to ignore—nor did you want to—but whenever you turned, no husband was there to meet your gaze. The only sign of his presence was the flutter of a broad shadow passing along the walls. He was much bolder when you found your nose buried in a book, and oftentimes when you lifted your gaze to catch him, he did not shy away.

“Yes?” you would wonder, voice quiet as both uncertainty and unease filled you.

Sometimes he did not answer, merely content to gaze at you, and other times he took his time in responding. He would exhale smoke and it would billow between you, briefly obscuring his features before he swiped his tongue between his lips.

“Supper will be ready within the hour.”

You would nod, and he would make no move to leave, and you would be forced to turn your eyes back to the pages before you…resolving to ignore the silent presence in the doorway that was your husband. You found yourself doing that a lot—resolving to ignore his presence. Otherwise, you would never get anything done.

His gaze clung to you when you ate, the dinner table silent outside of the sound of food and utensils hitting dishes. When your eyes would meet, you would send him a small smile, thinking to yourself that your marriage was just progressing slower than most, but he never returned it. He never smiled at you, only preferring to stare. When you ate, when you read, when you found yourself outside amongst the flowers…even when you slept.

You had never once shared a bed, so it was startling to answer a knock on your door one night, coming face to face with your other half. Your nightdress kissed your feet, and the sleeves tickled your hand, and despite that, Friedrich gazed at you as if you were standing naked before him.

“I only wish to make sure you are well throughout the night.”

You did not know how you felt both relief and disappointment, but you managed.

It took you some time to respond, nodding with a small ‘of course’. You still let out a cough here and there, and you did not miss the way Friedrich’s head would abruptly turn with every heave of your chest. Your marriage may have been cold and strange, but it was obvious that your husband had grown paranoid with the fear of burying a wife for a second time. You imagined that it would not reflect well on him.

…and so you laid beside him and closed your eyes and even in the cover of darkness…

You could feel his gaze.

It unsettled you, and you had half a mind to seek the advice of your mother the next time your parents came for a visit, but she—ever zestful and bold—completely took hold of your train of thought.

“...and when might I expect a grandchild?”

There was a teasing smile on her lips as she regarded you, and you merely sighed before taking a sip of your tea.

“You know my situation, mother,” you murmured, setting your cup aside.

Father was with Friedrich, and you hoped that he was enjoying his company much more than he seemed to his daughter.

“Yes, but that was months ago, and I can tell that things have shifted.”

At that, you frowned, turning to face her.

“Whatever do you mean?”

Your marriage was just as cold as it was in the beginning, only now a strange voyeuristic atmosphere had descended over it. Your husband had gone from ignoring your very presence to shadowing your every footstep in the house. Her light chuckle made you flinch, and she gazed at you as if you were playing some joke on her.

“Darling,” she took a sip of the warm drink. “I saw the way he was looking at you when you welcomed us through those doors.”

Your frown deepened.

“That is the gaze of a man fighting with all of his might to resist his beloved wife.”

Now it was your turn to think she was playing a jest with you, but you had no more time to linger on that for the voices of your father and husband soon filled the house as they made their way inside. You could only swallow as mother stood to welcome father back, slowly rising as your own husband neared you. When you traced his face with your eyes, you noticed the ease upon it, and you felt relieved to see that he and your father got on well. He looked like any normal man alight with the mirth that came from being in the company of other like minded men, and so you disregarded your mother’s words.

As you stepped past him to approach your father, your back felt aflame with the heat of a familiar gaze.

You saw them out and wished them safe travels and your father placed his hand on your cheek before he went, speaking good health over you. While he may have been used to your sickly nature, any instance that required bed confinement for his daughter always worried him. He wanted to leave with the trust that you would be well looked after…and well looked after you were.

“Your father was very transparent with me about your health.”

Friedrich towered over you as you sat at the table, having been unsure where this conversation was heading when he interrupted supper. A small container was in his large hand, and when your gaze lifted from the bottle to his eyes, you swore that you saw him falter, his words momentarily stuck in his throat.

He placed the bottle down before you, his hand remaining on the table, and the scent of him filled your nose.

“I have gotten the doctor to make a tonic for you. You are to take a few drops with your meal once a week… It will keep your strength and health up.”

He only moved again to open it, and despite the fact that you felt it was hardly necessary—having survived so long without it—one look into the eyes of your husband told you that not only could it not hurt, but for his peace of mind, you needed to do this. You two gazed at one another as he held it in his hand, and after some time, you realized what he wanted. Parting your lips for him, you swallowed down the few drops he administered to you, but even after you swallowed the herbal mixture down…Friedrich continued to stand over you.

It was in this moment that you finally started to voice your thoughts, asking him why he stared at you so when his movements completely stumped you.

His thumb found the corner of your mouth, startling you, and it remained there for some time before he brought it to his lips, tasting whatever had been lingering there. His blue eyes—normally so cold and unreadable in your presence—suddenly glinted with a look you could not place. It happened so fast that you would have missed it, but you did not, and the intensity there was enough to make your heart skip a beat.

Friedrich parted from you as if nothing had happened, and you watched him round the table to take his place across from you once again. It took you some time to pick up your utensils again, rejoining him in eating your supper, and now it was your turn to stare at him…unable to forget that shadowy something that passed through those blue eyes.

He was staring again.

The wind howled outside of the window with the storm and flashes of lightning lit up the otherwise dark room from time to time and your chest and shoulders moved evenly as you feigned sleep. You stared at the wall before you, and Friedrich stared at you. If at all possible, he grew more shameless with it, and if you were a normal loving couple just so wrapped up in each other—as you were sure he was with Anna—then some part of you might have found it romantic.

Tantalizing even.

As it were, you were not, and as silly as it seemed…you felt hunted in your own house.

You constantly felt like prey under his ever watchful eye no matter how justified he made it seem. Concern for your health, making sure no food disagreed with you, seeing how fair you slept. The paranoia of losing another wife suffocated you both for different reasons and in different ways, and you felt as if you were moments away from choking. Your mother’s voice crawled through your mind, and words that you had once dismissed now rang through your thoughts like a melody.

The room glowed with another flash of lightning…and you felt the gentle feel of fingers on the side of your face. You sharply inhaled, startled from both the sudden touch and the foreignness of it. His hand rested on your hair, ensuring that he could gaze upon your face no doubt, and when you felt the bed jostle, you closed your eyes. His lips found your tresses, and his hand found your shoulder, and you both heard and felt him breathe you in.

Friedrich’s nose traced the curve of your ear and he descended until his face was buried in the crook of your neck. Despite all of this, your heart remained steady, and you remained still as he gently pressed his lips to your skin and traced patterns through your sleeve. You felt his larger frame shifting closer, and at that—at the feel of him pressed so closely to you to where you could feel every curve and ridge of him—you shuddered.

Yet you still feigned sleep.

“You will never be her,” the words he murmured into your skin had your brows furrowing. “...and I will never let you.”

Contradictory to the words that left his lips, the hand on your arm found its way to your waist, his arm completely circling you and holding you to him. That was how he remained throughout the night, and only when you accepted the permanence of his position, did you finally allow yourself to find sleep.

It was dreamless, and when you woke up, you woke up alone.

You chose to ignore the relief that filled you at that discovery, telling yourself that Friedrich was still grieving. It was an easy answer to his behavior and treatment of you, and yet, you wondered how much longer you had to endure it. You wondered how much longer you would feel watched and shadowed in your own house.

At breakfast, you parted your lips for Friedrich as he gave you a few drops of the tonic, and he watched you eat, and you pretended not to notice. For some time that is. Finally, after a while, you placed your utensils down, and you lifted your gaze to meet his head on. Ever bold, he did not look away, those blue eyes momentarily making you lose your train of thought.

“Why do you stare at me so?”

You finally voiced your concerns with him, and you watched the mustache twitch from the movements of his mouth at your sudden and brazen question. Friedrich looked as if he had never anticipated you asking that of him, but eventually he straightened, pushing his shoulders back as he studied your face.

“I am afraid you will slip away.”

His answer made you blink, eyes widening slightly.

“I fear…” he cleared his throat, shifting in his seat. “...like my Anna, you will slip from my grasp.”

Your lips parted at the unexpected answer, and you were unsure of how to respond. Friedrich took a deep breath before digging into his own breakfast, those blue eyes finally refusing to meet yours.

“I will not allow you to become her…lost to me too.”

It was in that moment that you realized you completely misconstrued his words from the previous night, and you stared at the man before you who was so desperate and driven to uncomfortable lengths to ensure he did not bury another wife. Some part of you felt awful for feeling so put off by his uncanny behavior…but some other part of you recognized that your husband was slowly being pushed to madness.

If he were not so already.

“She vexes me so…”

Those were the words you overheard a week later, your house hosting a small handful of people that Friedrich knew. The wives took to you well despite your quiet disposition, and when they proposed an evening walk along the beach, you went in search of your husband to inform him. When you found him, he was in the company of three other men, the smell of tobacco reached you first and then his words followed.

You froze the moment you realized it was you he was referring to.

“She is so quiet and frail…like a mouse” there were a few chuckles. “...and I so desire to hear her squeak.”

You felt yourself take a step back.

“...but it is because she is so fragile that I cannot bring myself to touch her…” you heard Friedrich inhale. “I fear I would ravage her.”

How was it possible for his words to both terrify and entice you? It was a relief to know that your husband did not balk at the sight of you as you once thought, but you did not hold the same sentiment in confirming you were indeed being hunted in your own house. Friedrich had made no moves to warm you to him and progress this marriage in a way that a normal man would. After all these months, he was still little more than a stranger to you.

A stranger that was increasingly losing himself more and more at the thought of ever losing you.

“...but Friedrich we only just got here.”

You looked to him with a slight frown, the ocean breeze a soothing feeling against your skin. So turned around by his words from the other night, you had completely forgotten all about the beach, returning to the other wives in a bit of a daze, something they happily sat you down and fetched some water for.

With one look at you surrounded and feverish with some water in your hand, Friedrich had cleared the house out immediately, saddening you. You were at the beach, now to make up for it, but you were sure that you had only been here all of ten minutes.

“It is a bit airish out,” he said to you, keeping your hand in place on his arm. “I do not wish to see you fall ill again.”

You struggled to argue with him about your health, understanding both the sensitive nature of the topic and the determination in his eyes to see you back inside the house. Despite what you wanted, you allowed him to guide you away from the water and sand. His hand remained on yours the whole way, and the closer you got to your home, the more your unease grew.

“Perhaps we can try again if the weather is better tomorrow,” you proposed the moment you were inside the warm walls of the house.

Your husband did not answer right away as he removed his coat, and for a moment you feared he never would, but his eyes met yours as he turned to you. He was gentle and meticulous in unbuttoning your own coat, his chest so close to yours as he slowly peeled it off of you. The words that he did not know you heard were on your mind as he looked down his nose at you, and he only answered when your arms were finally free.

“We shall see.”

His tone and his words did not seem to be in agreement, and you were unsurprised when tomorrow came and went and you did not leave the walls of your home. You found enjoyment in your books instead, and like always, you eventually felt goosebumps crawl over your arms as you became the subject of his scrutiny yet again.

Only this time, you were surprised to hear him approach.

“Read to me,” he quietly asked—demanded—of you, and you felt his hand in your hair as he sat down on the couch behind you.

It was an unexpected request, and you were silent for a few moments more as he made himself comfortable behind you. His legs were on either side of you as you relaxed on the floor, the fabric of your dresses and undergarments cushioning your bottom. It took you some time to do as he asked, but once you did, you started to forget that he was even there.

Until his fingers started to move over your scalp and he drew himself closer, his knees in your line of vision now, and his gentle breathing started to accompany the sound of your own voice. You read to him for what felt like hours, both of you only pulled from the moment when the cook informed you that dinner would be ready soon.

Much of your time was spent reading to Friedrich these days, and you wondered if he thought it a sufficient enough distraction to ensure you hardly noticed he never let you out of the house anymore. Your requests to go to the beach grew less and less with every denial and every ‘maybe’ that would just turn into a denial. The day you asked to accompany one of the staff to the market, he visibly blanched, his head shaking as he snarked at you how completely out of the question that was.

You finally spoke up when the monthly visit from your parents did not come to pass.

“I did not think it wise for them to be here,” was his only defense, and you gaped at him.

“...and why not? Why am I the last to know this?”

His hand wrapped around your arm as he pulled you away from the curious eyes and ears of the kitchen staff, guiding you through the house with that long stride of his that almost made it hard to keep up. When he noticed, he slowed down, eventually halting his movements just outside of his study, and when you hesitantly reached for your arm, Friedrich loosened his hold.

You watched him use his free hand to gently brush his fingers over the appendage, looking down at it with a frown before meeting your gaze with a more even stare. 

“...because they are always trotting off to God knows where around God knows who, and I will not allow them to bring even so much as a shallow cough into this household.”

You blinked at your husband, understanding dawning on you, and you struggled with a response. You realized now that appeasing his paranoia—not fighting it and letting him have his way—was doing more harm than good. Friedrich was so good at hiding his emotions from you—even the ones you wanted to know about—but in the dimly lit hallway, you could see it clear as day in his eyes.

He was consumed with the fear that you would wind up just like Anna and his children.

Taking a deep breath, you hesitantly reached for his hand, removing it from your arm. You did not break your gaze, wanting him to listen to you loud and clear, and you swallowed down the unease that filled you as you stood under his unwavering gaze.

“Friedrich…” you whispered to him, so unused to the feel of his name on your tongue. “That is no way for me to live a life.”

He pushed his shoulders back at that, and you knew that he was going to argue with you, so you continued.

“You have gotten me a tonic from the doctor…I am the healthiest I have ever been…and I would very much like to see my mother and father.”

His mustache twitched as the corner of his mouth curved upwards at your attempt to put your foot down. The both of you stood there for a lengthy amount of time, just staring at one another, and for the briefest of moments, you thought that Friedrich would see reason. Your hand was still on his, and your husband maneuvered them so that your hand was now in his, and when he stopped closer, you knew then that you were not getting your way.

“Perhaps some other time.”

You knew what that meant as you watched him walk away, and dread began to fill you as the reality of your predicament was truly setting in. Your eyes roamed along the walls, no longer feeling haunted by Anna, but her husband instead. He was haunting you, and she was haunting him, and in his desperation to keep you from suffering the same fate as his previous wife, Friedrich seemed content to keep you behind a gilded cage, a manicured box.

Like a porcelain doll.

Your days were consumed with only him and the house—reading to him, tending to the flowers, picking out patterns for some new drapes or a new rug to be made. It was enough to ignore the obvious for a while, enough to keep your mind off of the prolonged absence of your parents and the unmet desires to see the water and the way Friedrich stared at you like he expected you to crumble at the drop of a hat.

He was driving you nearly mad as he, and perhaps that was why you did it.

The caretaker was new and had not yet learned that Friedrich Harding preferred to keep his new wife locked up like some sickly child. Why would she? You were sure that you would be back home before he returned, but when you entered your home—the sun still at its peak outside—you did not miss the way some of the servants avoided your gaze. Only one approached you, quietly taking your coat as her gaze found the floor.

“Mr. Harding is waiting for you both…”

Your heart sank at her words, and you looked to the caretaker, knowing that you just cost her employment. That had never been your intention, and you walked ahead of her, prepared to plead her case to your husband, but he let her go on the spot before you could get a word in. Everything you said went ignored, every plea and every excuse, and it was only when the staff made themselves conveniently scarce did your proper and mighty well-to-do husband finally…

Break.

“Do you wish to ruin me? Is that it?”

His voice bounced off of the walls, and your lips parted as he stared you down. His eyes were alight with every emotion known to man, and his shoulders heaved with every breath he took. You only just started to shake your head when he spoke again.

“For surely it will be the end of me if I have to say goodbye to another wife,” he angrily whispered, and you took a step back. “I do not ask much of you.”

“I know-.”

“I have not forced you to my bed, I have not demanded any sons or daughters,” he let out a tearful chuckle. “I do not even demand you greet your husband with a kiss when he returns home.”

All of this was true, and yet…

“All I ask is that you remain here.”

He said it so casually, as if he were not asking the world of you to remain prettily seated in a cage. You had never known how to gently broach this subject, understanding the sensitive nature of it, but as you stared into the face of your husband—driven mad with trauma and paranoia—you accepted that there would be no gentle way to do it.

“I am not Anna,” you breathed.

The man before you froze in place as you said her name, and you swallowed. 

“I am in good health now,” you licked your lips. “You saw to that…”

You slowly reached for him, and you did not miss the sharp look in his gaze as he followed the movement with his eyes.

“I am not going anywhere, and I implore you to have faith…”

Your words trailed off as the sound of his bitter chuckle reached your ears. Friedrich moved closer to you with no intention of stopping it seemed, and your back hit the wall. 

“Faith,” the dark-haired man sneered. “Why would I trust faith to keep you with me when that very same faith failed me before?”

You had no answer for him.

His fingers touched your face, and you looked between his eyes. His chest heaved, and his heavy breathing was the loudest sound in the room. His fingers trailed down the expanse of your neck before his hand moved to rest on the back of it, moving closer.

“You are so frail,” he murmured. “I knew it the moment I laid eyes on you.”

He forced your face closer, and you pressed your hands to his chest. The conflict was evident on his features, a furrow between his brows as he drank you in with those sad blue eyes of his.

“I fear that a change in the wind would rip you from my very arms.”

“Friedrich…” he gave no indication that he was listening to you. “I have not seen my mother and father in months. I know they must worry and… All I ever see are these walls and the staff and my books and you. Do you wish for me to be unhappy?”

He tilted his head.

“Do you wish for me to be alone again?”

“Friedrich, please,” you begged, and he was shaking his head as soon as you said his name.

“I cannot do what you ask of me,” he forced out, eyes becoming glassy.

You pulled at his arm and pushed at his chest, but your husband was a mountain of a man, and it did you no good. The room was filled with both of your voices at once, both of you pleading with the other—you for freedom and he for understanding.

“You do not understand the lengths I go to…”

“I will be driven to madness!”

“...the nights I refuse my own desires,” he tearfully spat.

“So you would have me be your doll then? Placed on a shelf where only you and the staff can see me? To only be looked at like a trinket until the end of my days?”

Your poor choice of words had him freezing, his voice dying in the air as he gazed at you with a stricken look in his eyes. He did not move for a concerning amount of time, and as he stared into your eyes, tears kissing his own, you wondered who he saw, right now.

You or Anna?

The wife he had lost or the one he was scared of losing?

“I cannot bear it,” he choked out, his face pressing into the crook of your neck. “It is an impossible thing to ask of me.”

You said his name, but he felt lost to you, mumbling to himself and kneading at you through the fabric of your dress. When his soft lips pressed against the skin just above your bosom, you tensed. You could feel the wetness from his tears on your flesh, and you said his name again.

In this moment, you were wholly aware of your disadvantage.

“All I do is try to protect you, and all I ask is that you help me…”

“Friedrich.”

He was on his knees, now, burly arms circled around your waist, and blue eyes wide and bright and tearful as he looked up at you.

“Yet you fight me every step of the way.”

“I am not Anna,” you said to him, trying to get him to see reason.

…but he knew exactly who he was talking to.

“...and you will never become her if I can help it.”

You felt his hand slide to your backside, pulling you closer as he buried his face into the fabric of your skirts.

“Night after night…day after day…I fight with myself for fear of hurting you, of doing irreparable damage.”

His arm tightened painfully around you, and you gasped, reaching down to pull at his sleeve.

“...and for what? For a wife who still leaves these walls and puts herself in harm’s way even after her husband begs her not to.”

“I cannot…”

You struggled to breathe, and you no longer just wanted him to let you go…you wished to get away. You both heard and felt him press a lingering kiss to your stomach, his tears wetting the fabric of your dress.

“If I am to risk you in any capacity…then surely it should be for the betterment of us both.”

So focused on trying to take in air, you did not fully register his words and the implication behind them. Your chest was tightening and your stomach was hurting, and your husband was losing his mind, and you did not know how to convince him that he would not lose you too. You pushed further back against the wall in an effort to relieve some of the painful pressure when you could suddenly breathe again.

You sharply inhaled…and the sound of tearing fabric reached your ears.

The pressure around your abdomen was loosening in more ways than one, and when you looked down, Friedrich had his hands quite literally inside of your dress. It was one that your mother had commissioned for you, but you could not find it in yourself to mourn the loss of the beautiful gown. You were more focused on your husband’s sudden animalistic nature.

You said his name, pushing at his hands, but you were no match for his strength.

“I cannot stop,” you heard him murmur, making your blood run cold. “Do not dare ask me to stop.”

With his hand at your back under the fabric, it was not long before you quite literally felt the fabric and strings of your corset being pulled taut against your flesh before ripping and popping completely. A panic seized you as you fought to get away from Friedrich, and he fought to rid you of the mountain of layers that covered you.

“Friedrich,” you gasped, pushing at his face and head, but with his arms around you in a vice-like grip, you had nowhere to go.

You pushed one foot forward, a difficult feat with a grown man attached to you, and your husband did not like that. He pulled at your dress some more—pulling down—and the action had you careening forward as you attempted to get away from him at the same time. With the floor fast approaching, you were prepared to crawl away from him, but Friedrich was much quicker on his feet than you.

Arms that were now increasingly familiar to you wrapped around your waist, catching you midfall, and Friedrich’s chest was to your back as he stood and brought you with him. You could feel his facial hair tickling your skin as he leaned in, deeply inhaling and kneading his fingers just under your chest.

“I cannot…”

His words trailed off as he forced you to face him, pink lips parted and blue eyes glazed over. Every step back from him was followed, and his nose touched yours while one hand found a home on your cheek. His lips touched yours for half a second before you pulled away, and he let you, frowning at you as if you confounded him.

She vexes me so.

You recalled those words that were not meant for your ears.

“I cannot…” his frown deepened. “I cannot resist you any longer.”

He finally stole a kiss from you, his lips covering yours in a way that no one ever had before. The kiss at your wedding was sweet—chaste even—but this was nothing of the sort. Friedrich deeply inhaled your every breath and pawed at you and pulled you closer if at all possible. The kiss made your head spin, and every time you attempted to move your head back, he followed. It was hard to breathe with his lips on yours.

You realized that what you felt against the back of your thighs was the bed, but only too late and when Friedrich’s hands tightened on the neckline of your dress. His lips sought out the flesh of your throat as he pulled and ripped it open completely. His blunt nails softly dragged against your skin as he yanked it down, moving closer, and with nowhere else to go, you felt yourself backed into a corner.

Your resistance was clear, and your husband wrapped an arm around your waist, briefly lifting you before dropping you on the soft surface. His large frame found solace between your legs, and you felt irreversibly trapped. He towered over you and his mouth held yours captive and his arms did not allow you anywhere to go.

You gasped his name into his mouth, a protest in your tone.

“I no longer have the strength to keep myself from you,” he murmured into the kiss. “Do not ask me to for I cannot do it.”

His hand slithered between your legs like a serpent, and you squirmed in a way you never had before. You had never even touched yourself there on lonely nights, recalling how unclean and unchaste it was said to be, but Friedrich was your husband. Surely that made it okay…but then why did it not feel okay in your chest? Perhaps it was because he scared you and isolated you and kept you locked away like some prized possession.

You felt yourself growing wet beneath his touch, and a low hum climbed from his throat as you laid your hand on his arm. When a finger slid into you, you dug your nails into his arm. The feel had you blinking, and when he added another, your eyes widened. A third had you gasping and him cursing—something you rarely heard. You felt stretched, and when he moved closer, forcing your legs to part more to accommodate him, you hissed.

“Lie back, my love,” he murmured to you. “It will feel much better.”

You refused to, one hand on the bed behind you in some weak hope that you could stop this before it went any further. You simply wanted freedom, and pleading with Friedrich for something so simple had ended in him seeking out his own pleasures instead. You could feel yourself dripping around his hand with every thrust of his fingers, and shame filled you.

When you were unable to swallow down a moan, you hid your face.

“There she is,” he slowly whispered, and when his thumb brushed over you in a way that had your arm weakening, he took advantage.

In one fell swoop, you found yourself on your back, your husband on top of you and his fingers still pushing into you. Your ruined dress hung off of you in tatters, and Friedrich tasted whatever visible skin there was. His large frame kept you pinned to the bed, and your eyes rolled and lashes fluttered from the way he moved his fingers and his hand between your thighs. You weakly murmured his name, and beyond that, in the quiet room, you could hear his movements. You could hear the wet sound of it, and more shame filled you, but you were not given time to linger on it.

He sat up on his knees, reaching down with his other hand so that he played you with both. You felt your back arching, and your breathing grew more shallow, and one hand gently massaged your mound while the other continued to push his fingers into your slick walls. He curled them into you over and over, massaging your insides and pressing the pads of his fingers against you.

It was unlike anything you ever felt, and when your stomach tightened—a rope or a coil or something deep within your gut—you let it until it could not any further, and you were suddenly gasping and whimpering in a way that made you sound possessed. You could feel Friedrich’s gaze on you, and when you managed to focus your own on him despite the difficulty, he wore an expression that you were sure you had never seen before.

It made you want to cover yourself and shy away, and when he pulled his fingers out of you—a tinge of red on them—that was exactly what you set out to do. 

Feeling hot and confused and unsettled by the man before you, you reached for the covers in an attempt to hide your nakedness, but your husband would not have it. He climbed over you, keeping you pinned between his thighs as he peeled off his light jacket, his tie and shirt and undershirt quick to follow.

You imagined that your wedding night would have been something akin to this, but only without this level of unease and fear and confusion. As it were, your wedding night was nothing like this. You had been alone, convinced of your husband’s lack of care for you, and now almost a year later, you were squirming beneath him and wanting to be as far away as possible from the man who metaphorically locked you in the tower and tossed the key.

“Friedrich,” you choked out, pushing at his chest. 

He leaned in and kissed you again, and you felt every bit of him as he forced you out of your garments completely.

The tip of him brushed against your sensitive flesh, and you shuddered beneath him. He would not stop kissing you, tasting the inside of your mouth and inhaling every gasp that escaped. His normally perfect hair was in disarray, and when he reached down between you, his other arm was proactive in holding you tight and in place for him.

The feel of his cock pushing into you almost made you wish for his fingers instead. You thought that you felt stretched before, but it was nothing in comparison to the slow way in which he sheathed himself inside of you. You felt unnaturally full, and it took your breath away. Friedrich groaned from above you, and you felt a shudder crawl up his back as he rested inside of you.

“I tried,” you heard him whisper. “I tried so very hard…but I cannot go another day without having you.”

He slowly pulled his hips back until only the tip of him remained before sinking into you completely. You could not stop the movements of your body, your hips lifting with his as if being carried by a wave, a breathless sigh escaping with every thrust. His bare chest was pressed to yours, and his burly arms kept you right where he wanted you, and you felt yourself slowly forgetting why you had ever resisted him.

“Endless nights of lying awake and knowing you were a mere room away,” Friedrich breathed against your skin. “So close…and so forbidden to me.”

The speed of his hips grew, and your nails dug into his skin, dragging over it as he plunged his cock into you with a vigor you did not know he had. He was always so cold with you, keeping you at arm’s length even when he was touching you. You recalled the feel of his hand on your hair and his fingers on your mouth and a brush against your waist. Always giving in just a little bit more until he no longer had the desire to hold himself back. Always staring and watching and craving.

It was so clear to you, now, and all you could think was that your mother was right…

…and you were a fool.

“I feared I would break you,” he panted, thrusting into you so strongly that the bed beneath you shook. “I still fear that I just might.”

He pushed himself up onto his hands so that he could look down at you, and the dull tender ache had started to subside, replaced by something that far exceeded the pleasure his fingers had given you. Your back arched, and Friedrich wasted no time in dipping his head to wrap his lips around a heaving breast. His tongue swirling around a hardened bud had you reaching up to thread your fingers through his dark locks.

He groaned at the action, and when he lifted his head again, his intense blue gaze sought out yours. You softly moaned every time his hips curved into yours, his cock smoothly sliding between your folds, now and stroking you in a way that momentarily convinced you your freedom was not all that desirable. Your husband did not look away from your eyes again, and it felt overwhelming to be beneath him and staring into his eyes and feel him within you.

One of his hands reached up to touch your cheek, and a frown formed between his brows.

“So fragile… It would take nothing for me to break you, to snuff you right out,” his words made your heart skip a beat. “You test my self control in ways that terrify me.”

His hand traveled to your neck.

“I was right to fear the monster that I would unleash if I ever got my hands on you…”

His fingers danced to the back of your neck, and he gripped the hair at the nape there, slowly and gently forcing your head back. His hips did not relent once, meeting yours again and again, the sound of skin meeting skin reaching your ears among other things that filled you with shame. So much shame.

“For I will never be able to resist you again.”

He leaned in and pressed gentle kisses along the expanse of your throat, his tongue darting out to taste the damp skin, humming at the salty nature the thin sheen of sweat gave it. You whimpered when he reached down with his free hand, fingers brushing against you and circling you as you greedily clenched around his cock. 

“If anything happened to you,” he whispered into your neck. “It would be my undoing.”