#//also no pressure to continue this one or make it into an interaction!

[gas-stxtion]

@oceanoecielo​ said: 😊 //FOR JACK BC HE DESERVES IT, FUCK YOU

(give my muse a nightmare or a good dream! - open)

Jack really hadn’t meant to fall asleep at work. Really! It’s not something he makes a habit of, even when the owners have him on long, back-to-back shifts with no breaks. In fact, Jack prides himself on his ability to stay awake during those long, twelve-to-fifteen hour shifts.

Tonight seems to be an exception, though.

It’s about three in the morning, and Jack hasn’t seen a customer in well over four hours now. He knows he very likely won’t see another one for at least another two, unless something drastic happens. And tonight, he’s tired, much more so than usual. So, he hadn’t thought anything of it when he rested his head on the counter for a few moments.

Normally, when Jack sleeps, he doesn’t dream. When he does dream, he usually has nightmares. Neither of those happens this time. This time, the dream that greets him when his eyes drift closed and he dozes off is... nice.

It isn’t anything particularly noteworthy or exciting, just a little dream where he gets to sit in a nice, comfortable chair, read a good book, and relax with a large, soft rabbit snoozing in his lap. For once in his life, he feels peaceful and secure, and the rabbit seems to agree.

At one point in the dream, he glances down at the rabbit to see that it’s opened its eyes and is peering up at him. He half expects it to look terrified and bolt, but it does neither. It stares up at him with wide eyes full of warmth and love and trust, and then bumps its head against his hand. Hesitantly, he moves one hand to pet it, and it leans into his touch.

The rest of the dream isn’t very eventful, but when Jack wakes up around half an hour later, he still feels the same pleasant, warm, happy feelings he did when he was asleep. He still feels a little tired, but he’s feeling much better than he had earlier.

As he shakes the sleepiness from his body and prepares for the rest of his shift, he can’t keep the little smile off his face.

... Maybe he should look into getting a rabbit.

[childrenofcain-if]

DEMO: 𝕾𝖊𝖕 22

Wealth. Power. Death.

The Ballad of the Young Gods is a dark academia interactive fiction story, with dark fantasy and psychological thriller themes. Some of the romances also contain tropes and storylines which may be disturbing to some readers.

It is based on media like “Ninth House” by Leigh Bardugo, “The Secret History” by Donna Tart, “Masters of Death” by Olivie Blake, and SYFY’s “Deadly Class”.

It is rated 18+ for depictions of swearing, sexual themes, gore, violence, and death.

Getting into an Ivy League school is a dream that thousands of American students nurse from a young age. Luckily for you, that dream is your reality. Four years of continuous hard work and pressure have made you a proud freshman at Yale University. And as if that wasn’t enough, you have been handpicked to attend Rathore College, whose selection process is revered across all the nation’s top educational institutions. But you should’ve known this stroke of luck came with a catch.

Yale is a crucible of power, where secret societies wield arcane magic and the dead are far from silent. The illustrious House of Styx wants you and this is a situation that not even your money can get you out of.

They are powerful, elite, and most of all, controlling beyond recognition. They are also the heart of the eight secret societies that attach themselves to Yale. From the White House to Hollywood’s most acclaimed stars, their influence reaches farther than anyone can dare to imagine.

A sinister conspiracy brews under Styx’s watchful gaze, one that threatens to unravel the fragile balance between the living and the dead. But in a graveyard of secrets, you and your accomplices are the ones with the shovels. You’re now in a world where the past is never truly dead, and the lines between life and death blur with each passing day.

But some secrets are better left buried, and some prophecies are destined to drag you to hell.

Cédric Armand Lacroix / Céline Armelle Lacroix (M/F)

Vindictive. Conniving. Ruthless.

As the heir to the Lacroix fortune, C is every bit as arrogant as their bloodline demands them to be. Even after the messy divorce of their parents which further led to their disownment by their father, Alain Lacroix, they refuse to give up on their dignity. They’ve vowed to destroy him one day and take what’s rightful theirs, brick by brick. The world bent to C’s whims, what money couldn't buy them, those pale green eyes probably did.

There is nothing that they can’t have, especially if they set their mind to that. That is until you came along and stayed one step ahead of them every time in everything that mattered. It wasn’t just the fortune or the legacy at stake; it was the bruising of their pride, the constant reminder that someone—anyone—could outmaneuver them. But beneath the layers of resentment and anger, there’s something more—something darker, even more dangerous.

An obsession takes root, one that blurs the line between hatred and fascination. And they vow to spend their whole life despising you for everything.

Romance trope: Enemies / Academic Rivals to Lovers.

Vance Kasper Næsholm / Vanessa Karina Næsholm (M/F)

Pious. Haunted. Disillusioned.

Raised under the oppressive influence of a rigid, fire-and-brimstone faith in a Danish Catholic orphanage, they were taught to see demons in every shadow and sin in every touch. Forever haunted by the visions provided by a wrathful God they can neither fully grasp their mind around nor escape from, their only reprieve came on the day they got adopted at the age of six and diagnosed with schizophrenia. But the truth of their ‘psychosis’ may be far more sinister than any medical diagnosis could account for.

As the tides become even stormier and their medications become ineffective when they arrive at Yale, all V can do is hold on to the last threads of control over their lives. Your first meeting almost makes them teeter over the edge.

Now that they’re your roommate, they’re bound to you by fate or folly, but whether they’ll be a stable ally remains to be seen.

Romance trope: Roommate Romance.

Wilhelm Johann Ostendorf / Wilhelmine Johanna Ostendorf (M/F)

Exhausted. Abandoned. Lost.

What does the world think of you when you’re a product of brilliance and neglect at the same time? With an Oscar-winning filmmaker for a father and a mother ensconced on the American board of directors at the Louvre, their pedigree is undeniable, yet it is a legacy more hollow than it appears. While their parents sculpted their careers into masterpieces and amassed accolades, they left W to be raised by their paternal aunt and uncle. A sizeable trust fund and periodic checks served as their parents’ only gestures of care, a shallow substitute for the love and attention their only child so desperately craved.

The only times they had felt more than someone who was deeply unlovable were the summers you spent on rusty swingsets and fast bicycles with training wheels. But the swingsets have long been dismantled, and the bicycles have been traded for cars.

The only questions remain—are you the same kid who saw them, really saw them, beyond the reality of being unwanted and the suffocating looks filled with pity that came with their name? Or will this reunion only serve to confirm their deepest fear—that they are, and always have been, truly alone?

Romance trope: Forgotten Childhood Friends to Lovers.

Dumitru Constantin Diaconu / Dumitra Constantina Diaconu (M/F)

Charismatic. Reckless. Guarded.

D’s name is the one that comes up in almost every conversation about Yale’s wildest parties. A natural-born rockstar charmer with a magnetic presence, they effortlessly draw people into their orbit, collecting hearts and bodies with the ease of someone who’s always been in the center of the gold rush. Despite the countless admirers and the trail of broken hearts left in their wake, you’ll always find them with a Marlboro between their lips and a new person in their arms to warm their bed at night. Their smile is a promise, and their laughter a siren call. In the haze of flashing lights and the thrum of bass that pulses through the walls, they are a heartbreaker in every sense of the word.

Feelings are a complication they don’t allow, a line they never cross. They’ve perfected the art of detachment, of keeping their connections strictly no-strings, because to let someone in would be to risk the vulnerability they’ve long since sworn off.

Will you be the only person they'd let peel back the barbed wire surrounding their heart? Or will you be left with nothing but the faint scent of cinnamon and a tale that wasn't meant to be?

Romance trope: Friends with Benefits / Sex First, Feelings Later. [You will only be able to unlock their romance route through a hookup.]

Maxwell Edmund Whitlock-Singh / Maxine Edythe Whitlock-Singh (M/F)

Duty-bound. Noble. Untouchable.

Politeness and decorum are second nature to M. They are the embodiment of manners, a living testament to the art of subtlety in a world where spectacle often trumps substance. They are the sort of person who commands attention without seeking it, a product of both royal blood and rigorous self-discipline. Dubbed the “Paragon of Styx,” M is a modern Plato, someone who finds as much solace in philosophical debates as in the classical texts they’ve devoured in multiple languages. As the second-born child of the Crown Princess of Wales, they have always understood that their life would be one of service with every action scrutinized, and every word weighed.

Their intellect is vast, but it is their passion for the esoteric that sets them apart. For all their convictions, there is a restlessness within M that even they cannot fully articulate. It is the paradox of their existence—a life of privilege that feels at times like a gilded cage, a role that demands both reverence and obedience. Indeed, heavy is the head that wears the crown.

Will you make them realize that life is more than duties and expectations? Or will you become yet another figure in the background, another reminder of the golden cage they were born into?

Romance trope: Forbidden Royal Romance / Secret Relationship.

Step into the shadows as the wealthy heir apparent to a billion-dollar industry who is just starting at Yale University as a freshman.

Be a part of Yale’s most enigmatic secret society, the House of Styx.

Fully customize your character including: pronouns, gender, physical appearance, personality, sexuality, and more.

Romance 1 out of 5 love interests (all of them are gender-selectable). Or not. Platonic relationships are valid too.

Study forbidden knowledge, practice dark magic, and try not to fail at your actual coursework.

Test your mind, body, and soul in rituals that blur the line between reality and nightmare.

Learn about the secrets that your mother took to her grave. Is she really the same woman you remember so fondly from your childhood?

Will you rise to navigate the sinister plans brewing under the nose of the House? Or will your actions drag you and your companions to the fiery depths of Hell.

W̶̗͖̝͆h̷͕̲̑̎̓̍̄̎͠͝a̵̢̛̫̾̓͗t̴̙̫͛̐͆̾̀̓̔̊͝ ̴̪́́̈́͛̂̉̀͒̊́ạ̸̗̯̲̘̬͗̀ͅr̸̢̪̜̭̼̠̟̜͚̂̈́͋͋̅͑̉́̎͝e̸̩̯͉̿̊̔͛̃̎͝ͅ ̵̢̹̜̤͍͙̩̬̰̜̏̃͝͠y̷̢̨͇̘͍̌́͐̍̆̓̑̐ǫ̶̢̧̡̛̥̤͉͎̟̃̏̍̓̒ͅu̷̓̂̾̇̇͜͝,̸͎̖̮̲̳̻̱̬̎̒͑͝ ̸̡̛̰̌͐c̶̛̪̗̰̻̜̲̘̺͗͊h̴̡͔̦̘̤̖͊̿̓̇i̵͉̘͙̥͍̼̜̐̐̄̅͝͝ĺ̶̡̧̧̼̦̦̗̰̝̼̓̊̀d̸̡͎͔͔̰̖̿̐̈́̓͊̌̃̓͜?̷̩̗̲̫̮͕̍̈́́̽͜͝͝

DEMO (Sep ‘24)

RO DETAILS

SPOTIFY (for RO playlists, click on their names in the cast section)

PINTEREST

WRITTEN BY: axel (he/him)

CODED BY: @albywritesfiction (they/them)

[kissenturine]

boothill,, gunplay. thats the thought,, if ur comfortable writing that ofc ofc

𝐋𝐎𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐋𝐎𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐃 boothill x m!reader — 1.4k words, not proofread, minors do not interact

TO NOTE: gun play, slight chocking, boothill puts his gun in reader's mouth, boothill kind of bends reader over, boothill also makes reader jerk off, uh boothill kinda mean-ish, he pretends to shoot reader, aftercare is not written but it is given! lmk if i missed anyy :3

KAI SAYS: hello guys,, shorter than usual bc ive landed myself in the er due to multiple reasons haha (chronic hives, low blood pressure, fainting spells, dehydration, etc) and i miiight not be able to post until like next weekend maybe (?) so so soso sorry for the inconvenience aaargh, writing this in the hospital too... not dying tho everything super minor so!!

The first time you ever saw Boothill pull a gun was at a training centre. He said something about wanting to work on his aim, and so he decided to head there, late at night. No one else was there—just the two of you.

Boothill pulls out his gun, flicking a few bullets into the spinning revolver with practiced ease before he pulls the trigger. A loud ‘bang’ fills the room, followed by the sound of his metal bullets clinking to the floor after the shot.

“Well color me stoked.” Boothill grins, showing off his sharp teeth. “Seems I ain’t that bad after all!”

“Well, you were always good with guns, anyway.” You respond, returning Boothill’s grin with a smile of your own. He was indeed good with guns, and it was undoubtedly attractive.

Boothill’s hands spin the revolver, watching the metal clink. It was much too fast for you to see, so you didn’t know which one ended up landing. Boothill is quick to draw his gun again, smirking as he pointed it at you—straight into your chest.

“Boothill?” You question. “What are you—”

You are cut off by the loud sound of his gun shooting. Your eyes shut and you winced instinctively, your body tensing up for the bullet that was about to hit your skin.

…Yet it never happened. 

Cracking one eye open, you peer at Boothill cautiously, only to find him gripping his metal abs, a roaring laugh rolling from his lips. “Oh, darlin’ you know I’d never shoot ya!” He laughs again, though this time it was softer. “C’mon, love, I’d never hurt ya.” He murmurs sweetly as he makes his way closer to you, his gun still in hand.

He presses the muzzle playfully against your chest, trailing it up and down your abdomen. Boothill’s smirk only widened as he slipped his gun—along with the hand holding it—under your shirt. He presses the muzzle right against your nipple, watching you shiver at the cool metal.

“Boothill.” You whisper firmly. “What’re you doing?”

He says nothing, only continuing to drag his gun against your skin, sending shivers of delight across your body.

Eventually, his gun finds its way to the hem of your pants. Boothill gives you a wicked smile before he uses his free hand to yank down your pants and boxers, exposing your half-hard cock. “Well, ain’t that a pretty sight.” He cooes, letting the muzzle of his gun rest against your tip.

“Jerk it for me, pretty boy.” Boothill says. You blink up at him, confusion filling your face.

“Huh…?” You question.

“I said.” Boothill groans, pressing the muzzle of his gun harder into your tip. “Jerk it for me, or else I’m gonna be shootin’ this pretty lil’ dick o’ yours.” Boothill wouldn’t really. You knew that. He said it himself. And yet… the fear that he would is still there, forcing small tears to well in your pretty eyes as you looked up at him desperately.

“O-Okay.” You comply, wrapping your hand around your shaft as you slowly start to glide your closed fist up and down.

“Good boy.” Boothill praises, and his voice makes your dick twitch against his gun.

You move your hand, squeezing as you get to your tip and rolling your thumb to spread your precum. You throw your head back, moaning loudly as Boothill rocked the muzzle of his gun in time with your hand.

“Look at ya.” He groans, his free hand going to squeeze at your throat. “Gettin’ off to my gun pointed at ya.” Boothill smirks, rolling the revolver again until the familiar ‘click’ sound resounds around the room. “Pretty thing, d’ya even know what this could do to you? Or are you too dumbed down already?”

“Stop teasin’” You whine, your hand's pace slowing as you turn your gaze away from Boothill’s. “Not that dumb yet…”

“Yet.” He repeats, removing his gun from your dick. “Think I can change that real quick, no?” A sharp laugh escapes Boothill’s lips as he suddenly hoists you up and off the barstool you sat on. He spins your body with only a smidge of grace as he lands you roughly on your stomach against the table, your ass now facing Boothill.

“Aeons, you’re so pretty…” He murmurs, his hands roughly groping the fat of your ass. “Can’t believe yer all mine…”

A whine slips from your lips, high and pathetic as your eyes flutter closed. “Yeah…” You whisper. “All yours…” You feel Boothill drag the muzzle along your back—sliding it under your shirt, before he pulls his arm up, tearing through the thin fabric. You shiver at the newfound cold, goosebumps prickling your exposed skin.

You hear the zipper of his pants as he pulls it down, pulling out his cock and tapping it against your clothed ass before he’s yanking down your shorts. Boothill traces a metal finger around your puckered rim, eyeing you carefully. “Such a cute ‘lil hole…” He whispers out breathlessly. “Can’t wait to fuckin’ destroy it.”

The instant Boothill stops speaking, you feel the tip of his metal cock push past your hole, stretching you out more than you could ever imagine—despite doing this with him before. “Boothill.” You moan out, eyes fluttering as you crane your neck to look at him—only to have your face pushed right back into the table by the shove of his gun against the back of your head,

“Stay still f’me, pretty.” Boothill groans, easing his cock into you. The more he pushes in, the more painful the stretch is… And yet, the more painful it is, the more pleasure your body seems to derive from it. Boothill is only halfway in when you feel like you’ve been stuffed to your limit. A pathetic sound escapes you and you feel his gun press down harder.

Boothill removes his gun from you, using it to force your head to the side. He leans down, spitting a thick glob of spit all over the muzzle, smirking as it gets his gun all messy. “Open.” He taps it against your lips, making sure to smear his spit all over. Boothill’s smirk only widens when you follow, opening your mouth and letting his muzzle sit between your pretty lips. “Atta boy.” He whispers, thrusting with full force his cock into your awaiting hole.

“Boothill…!” You moan out, though it’s muffled by his gun pressing against the flat of your tongue. Your thighs tense at the sudden pleasure. A gurgly whine leaves your throat. “I can’t—”

“You can,” Boothill growls, pressing his gun deeper into your throat. His thumb goes to spin the revolver, making sure it lands on a slot with a bullet before continuing, “and you will. Ya know why, cutie? ‘Cause you're my good boy, and good boys take what they’re given.”

He sets a brutal pace after, thrusting into you relentlessly. It doesn’t matter how you plead, all Boothill does is press his gun further down your throat—until you’re sure your lips will bleed from the stretch. Eventually, his tip knocks against your prostate, sending you over the edge. Your dick squirts a load, all over the table and floor, yet Boothill doesn’t falter.

“Look at you, cummin’ like a slut.” He groans, and his pace seems to increase. He’s suddenly going harder, faster, everything that makes your head spin with the added overstimulation.

You cry against the gun, tears welling in the corner of your eyes. Boothill seems to enjoy the sight, leaning down to kiss softly against the back of your neck, his free hand wrapping around your waist and fisting your spent cock.

“That’s it…” He coos. “You think ya can give me one more?” His hand increases, matching the rhythm of his thrusts as he knocks into your prostate again and again and again. “C-C’mon, need t’do it together.” You nod your head eagerly, drool slipping from between the corner of your lips and his gun.

Boothill thrusts harshly, finally sending you over the edge for the second time, and you feel his metal dick twitch in time with you. Your eyes roll back, ecstasy overwhelming you as Boothill pumps a thick, sticky load into your ass, painting your walls white.

“You’re so good f’me…” He coos into your ear, sliding his gun slowly out of your mouth. With a familiar click, the resounding sound of a gunshot echoes throughout the room as he shoots his last bullet into the table—right by your head. “You’re always so good an’ pretty with my gun…”

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓: @helloanime @kiekole (send ask without anon to be added)

© KISSENTURINE. do not translate, plagiarize, edit, or repost

[aealzx]

(continued ideas from this post, with the end part added in because of @silverspectre51 's comment about wanting a reunion scene)

The first time Danny had spoken to Jason he’d asked him not to tell anyone he had been there. He knew that the only reason his new family was safe from the enemies of his former life was because no one there knew about it, and no one outside of them knew he was still alive. So he’d asked Jason to keep his existence a secret, and was grateful when he agreed.

That didn’t stop him from taking Jason up on his offer that he was welcome there any time. Danny tried not to leave too often, for his sister and friends noticed when he was gone too long and tended to ask where he went. But sometimes the chaos of his life needed the stillness that was only brought by the small memorial Jason had made.

It also helped that Jason was a really cool older brother figure. He was gruff, and stand off ish at times, but it was easy for Danny to tell he was just awkward with emotions. There was always some sort of treat at the memorial when Danny arrived. Cookies, a candy bar, leftover chinese food. Danny always ate anything that was left, and Jason never asked how it was possible. They sometimes talked, but Danny never interacted much with the environment. It was easier to keep his presence hidden if he remained intangible, and Jason just assumed that’s how ghosts were.

It was because of the few visits that Danny found out Damian was targeted. Learned that whoever had targeted his twin had gotten the jump on him, and Jason and others had received a distress signal from him.

Danny was there first.

Being a ghost meant he didn’t have to strictly follow the laws of physics, and as Jason ran to his motorcycle Danny left him behind. His subconscious mind told him he should wait and only appear if he was actually needed. He hadn’t been needed so far afterall, so whoever these people Damian knew were, they had to be good. But the active part of Danny’s mind told him he could get in and out without being seen. Especially since when he arrived at the burning warehouse Damian was already unconscious, his limp body having been tossed to the floor.

Danny didn’t let the enemy get closer. He couldn’t make himself known as Phantom, couldn’t allow others to know Phantom had left his haunt of Amity Park. And so he allowed his true ghostly form to manifest. The one that manifested his accidentally begotten crown and matching wings, as well as the uniform he’d first died in, and the mark of his grandfather’s hand that had choked the life from him. Not even Sam or Tucker had seen this form, so he figured he would be unrecognized.

His appearance came with a distorted clap from the sound barrier being bent, his half alive form muffling the noise as though it were caught in a void but doing little to alleviate the pressure that came with it. As far as the enemy knew Damian was alone, and a blink of the eyes later a solid figure was half hovering above him protectively, an otherworldly sphere of energy held in his other hand.

“BACK OFF!”

Danny’s belted command came with a tiny burst of sonic waves echoing the ghostly screams of wailing dead. Just enough to reinforce his point and potentially burst some eardrums, but not enough to even come close to exhausting him.

They didn’t back off. Because why would they? Damian was no small prize to let go so easily.

And so Danny met their attack, his hand subconsciously scooping up Damian’s blade from where it had fallen. It had been a long time since Danny had fought someone fully alive. But his body remembered the training he’d been given. It was one of the reasons he didn’t fight with a weapon as Phantom. The blade flowed too easily for him. It was harder to be lethal with bare hands. But with a blade even someone with a form as small as his could overpower the brute that had targeted his brother. In moments he had the man on the floor, any goons he may have had having long fled as Danny raised the blade above his head, eyes locked onto the invisible target on the man’s throat.

“DANNY?! WHAT- STOP!”

The command didn’t halt Danny’s hands from plunging, but they did miss their target. The blade stabbed halfway into the concrete next to the man’s throat as Danny’s full consciousness returned to the front of his mind.

He knew that voice, and she shouldn’t be here.

“...Jazz?”

Danny’s voice shook in a whisper as he turned to look at this sister, somehow standing near the entrance of the warehouse. She wasn’t supposed to see him like this. He wasn’t supposed to do this anymore. With a gasp he flinched away from the hilt his hands had a death grip on, his form jerking away as though it had burned him.

“Is this where you’ve been sneaking off to?” Jazz demanded, her entire frame shaking from adrenaline from seeing her baby brother almost murder someone. He looked so different when she’d gotten there. So foreign to the Danny she knew. But she had long known that he had a past none of them knew about, and could only think this had something to do with it. “Have you been coming to Gotham to murder people?” she demanded. She would regret the phrasing of her question later, that obviously wasn’t the right thing to ask. But it was a little hard to think straight right now. She had followed Danny there, but she hadn’t meant to confront him about his escapades until later.

“N’no- I was just,” Danny stammered, suddenly feeling like thousands of unkind eyes were watching him, and shifting his gaze to his clawed hands.

Someone else arrived. A purple suit and blonde hair, dropping from the ceiling and running towards Damian. “Robin?!”

It drew Jazz’s attention to Damian, the hero name easily familiar. “Robin?” she asked, voice significantly quieter as she turned to look as another figure dropped in while the first started to pick Damian up after making sure he was safe to move. “Danny, were you…”

Jazz had a lot of questions that Danny didn’t want to answer. But if they stuck around there would be more people with even more questions he couldn’t answer. “We have to go,” Danny cut off, floating down to start ushering Jazz out the door. She protested, but Danny barely heard her. “They’ll take care of the rest. Please. We have to go before-”

He was frantic, not wanting the time limit to run out before someone else who would recognize him showed up. He wasn’t expecting the other time limit to run out.

“Danyal?”

The voice that spoke was barely a whisper of recently regained consciousness, but it caused Danny’s heart to slam into his throat with a harsh gasp. Danny’s old name dragged his attention from his new sister to the one who had spoken it, small frame cradled in another hero’s arms as the rest of them stopped to follow Damian’s gaze.

“...Dami?”

Danny’s response came without him wanting it to. It caused Damian to double his efforts to remain conscious, which in turn exponentially increased Danny’s panic. He shouldn’t be there. So he wouldn’t be there.

“I can’t do this,” Danny gasped with a breath his lungs didn’t have, his hands reaching to rest on his throat before he fled as quickly as he’d arrived.

___________

Jason hadn’t been the first to the site to rescue Damian, but he was the only one who knew what Damian’s frantic babbling was about. Demands for the others to let him go back to the warehouse, refusing treatment even though his ribs had definitely been cracked. He’d only started to behave when Jason got there, firmly holding him on the bed to keep him from making his injuries worse. No one knew what they were talking about when Jason promised to take care of it. No one else knew why vague words of reassurance, and a promise to handle everything was enough to calm Damian down enough to stay still. And no one else was given any more answers as Jason left to return to his apartment after asking Stephanie what she had seen when she’d first arrived at the warehouse.

The presence Jason was starting to get familiar with was behind his apartment door again, as he’d thought Danyal would be. But this time when Jason quietly entered the room instead of sitting quietly near the window Danyal was curled in a tight ball in the corner, sobbing. He also wasn’t see through. Something Jason noted as he silently closed the door and approached Danyal, sitting on the floor across from him.

At first Jason wasn’t sure what to say, and Danyal seemed too distressed to be the first to speak. So instead Jason reached forward to cup his hand under Danyal’s elbow, noting how the lad jerk in mild startle, and how he felt a strangely chilled warmth from him. “C’mere,” Jason coaxed, pulling Danyal towards him gently.

It didn’t take more than that for Danyal to lurch forward, crashing into Jason’s chest and wrapping him in a tight hug. It wasn’t something Jason was used to, but it didn’t stop him from doing his best to comfort the lad, resting his hands on his small back and rubbing gently. “It’s okay. Damian is safe at home now, and police are taking care of the rest,” he tried to assure, trying to guess if that was what had Danyal in such states.

It took several attempts being cut off by sobs and hiccups before Danyal got a response out. “I s’screwed up! S’she w-... wasn’t sup’posed to see. He w’wasn’t supposed to see me.”

Jason wasn’t sure who ‘she’ was, but he guessed Danyal meant Damian for the second person. It was something that had confused him for awhile, why Danyal didn’t want to see Damian, and he couldn’t help asking. “Why did you run from Damian? I thought you got along.”

It was a question Danyal hadn’t had an answer to, even for himself. He’d wondered at first why he’d asked Jason to keep it a secret that he was there, even from Damian. But he’d never been able to answer it. He wasn’t angry with Damian, like Jason had first asked. He didn’t blame Damian for anything that had happened. He didn’t resent Damian at all. But for some reason the thought of seeing his twin brother filled him with dread. He didn’t want Damian to know he had a different family now. Another life, away from him and all they had grown up with. Not because he thought Damian would ruin it, or try to get him to leave it behind, or anything like that. He realized now it was because of an overwhelming feeling of guilt.

“I abandoned him,” Danyal choked out, answering the question for himself as well as Jason. “I left him alone in that shit hole of a family, to be used as a toy, as a weapon just to kill people. We were just kids and I left him all alone.”

The revelation caused Jason’s grip to tighten around Danyal, anger towards Ra’s smoldering brighter in his soul. But this wasn’t about him, so Jason stifled that flame in favor of something that would be of greater use. He could try to tell Danyal that Damian didn’t hate him. That they both apparently felt the same ill begotten guilt, believing that they had somehow failed each other despite having only been children. His own words to the others came back to his mind. 

‘I was just a kid you know.’

They were just kids. They were still just kids. And shouldn’t have to deal with such grief over something that had been caused by adults. Jason knew he could sit there and talk, and try to convince Danyal that he was wrong, and his feelings didn’t have to be what they were. But he also knew there was a much easier way to solve this, and a lot of other tasks.

“...Danyal,” Jason spoke, getting his attention. “Can I ask you to trust me?”

“...W’what?” Danyal asked, his sobs thankfully starting to quiet as Jason piqued his curiosity.

“Will you trust me? And allow me to take you to Damian?” Jason repeated, hoping the hold he had on Danyal was comforting instead of smothering. “Trust me that I know Damian, and know this will help both of you?”

It was somehow a simple request in Danyal’s mind. Trust Jason, the only brother who Damian trusted enough to tell him about his dead twin, to know how to help them. For some reason it was easy for Danyal to turn his brian off, and agree. “...Okay.”

___________

Jason soon learned that Danyal wasn’t a ghost. A comment about finding a hoodie to hide his white hair for the trip led to Danyal revealing that he could easily switch forms between human and spirit. A ring of light briefly passing over his form, and Danyal had black hair, regular green eyes, and completely lost that intimidating presence. Now he was just another regular boy. And he looked exactly like Damian.

He still asked for the hoodie.

The trip back to the Wayne manor was quick, and silent on Jason’s motorcycle, the spare helmet shoved over Danyal’s head. He seemed reluctant to take it off when they stopped, and Jason couldn’t blame him. He seemed very keen on not being recognized.

“Don’t worry. Not even media cameras make it here. Bruce likes his privacy,” Jason assured, resting a hand on Danyal’s back in what he hoped was reassurance even as the kid pulled the hood lower.

Unfortunately because of the recent circumstances the manor wasn’t empty. But Jason ignored the others with short quips when they got nosy. It was only Alfred, the one who always looked after them when hurt, and who was just leaving Damian’s room, that they stopped for.

“Welcome home, Master Jason,” Alfred’s usual greeting was the first words exchanged. “Might I ask who our guest is?”

Alfred didn’t sound like Danyal was unwanted, but he didn’t miss the protective tone subtly in his voice.

“A visitor for Damian,”Jason responded simply. A half answer. It would take too long to explain, and they weren’t there for the others.

“Are you sure this is the best time for visitation?” Alfred asked, knowing that Jason was well aware of Damian’s current health status.

“Trust me. They both need this,” Jason confirmed, his hand never leaving Danyal’s back even as he kept his head low and face away from curious eyes.

“Very well,” Alfred relented after a small pause, stepping aside and gesturing for them to pass.

Jason thanked Alfred, and took charge of firmly leading Danyal through the open door. He could feel Danyal’s body tensing with rattled nerves, and didn’t want him to suffer in second guessing any longer than necessary. So when Bruce turned to look at them from the bedside where Damian was refusing to fully rest, Jason took care of introducing their arrival. “Couple of dead boys, here to visit.”

It was certainly unexpected, but while Bruce’s expression scrunched in confusion Damian stubbornly sat up and a tiny snort escaped Danyal. The humor was almost out of place, but appreciated, and Danyal allowed Jason to move him forward a little before taking the hood from his hands.

Letting the fabric that was hiding his face slip from his fingers, Danyal lowered his hands to replace it with the front of the hoodie instead, giving a shaky, nerve wracked smile as he clenched the oversized hoodie. “... Hey, Dami.”

The greeting was easier than Danyal thought it would be, and he didn’t have to wait long for Damian’s response. Despite the protest of his battered body, Damian ignored all the rules he’d been given to stay in bed in favor of launching himself towards his twin. “Danyal!”

Danyal’s breath left him in a slight huff as a figure the same as his own slammed into him, arms being thrown around him without any hint of hesitation. As Damian babbled broken chatter, Danyal found he couldn’t fully focus on what he was saying. Just the familiar voice from half a lifetime ago, slightly different with just a bit of age, echoing in his ears. It was easy to return the hug, Danyal’s hands remaining gentle in consideration of Damian’s ribs, yet also squeezing as tight as he dared. Fresh tears caused his throat to tighten once more, but this time he didn’t mind. Even the brand new voice behind him did little to deter his desire to stay right where he was.

“Holy shit! You have a twin!”

“Shut up, Tim. You’re ruining it.”

______________________________________

Friggen huge post but I'm not planning on making this an extended fic so just splatted it all out in 1 post X'D

The first part of this is what that design of Danyal I did was for. And a day of brain fog and just the right kind of positive motivation got me to actually do this.

I feel really out of my element because I only know the DC group from Wayne Family Adventures, and a few fan content things my sis reblogs |D I hope they're not too out of character.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Allergies II

Hardersson x Daughter!Reader

Natalia Guijarro (OC) x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adeventures Universe

Summary: You have another allergic reaction

In all honesty, you didn't really think it was that serious.

Nutrition meetings at Barcelona were a lot more in depth than what you were used to at Arsenal. They took ages and were full of information that would probably be interesting if you actually cared but, alas, nutrition had never been as interesting to you as other subjects so you tended to just zone out.

You were handed a new smoothie with some kind of new protein powder in or something you would have known if you actually listened.

You drank it.

That's when things start to get weird.

The nutritionist continues to drone on and you frown, scratching at your neck.

You stare down at your bottle for a moment as your throat goes all scratchy and intense.

You force yourself to swallow before glancing around.

Your throat gets a bit tighter.

No one else seems to be having such a reaction so you unscrew the top of your bottle to peer inside. You sniff the mixture before standing up.

You can feel people watch as you make your way over to the first aid kit at the front of the room. Your throat has fully closed up now and you know that you're turning alarmingly red and probably breaking out in hives.

Honestly, you feel a little bit shocked how you're even conscious right now but you grab your epipen and stab it into your leg.

"Banana," You say plainly," I can't eat that."

Even with the adrenaline now pumping through your system, you slide your way down the wall to sit on the floor, breathing in deeply.

The room erupts into chaos the moment you sit down.

The medical staff come in to check your blood pressure and your throat and the expiration date of your epipen. The nutritionist leading the session is going absolutely ballistic yelling at one of her assistants for not checking the allergy sheets before making and handing out the smoothies.

Talia looks close to tears as she forces her way towards you, practically shoving some of the medics away. "Are you okay? Is it bad? Do I need to call your mums?"

"No! Don't call my-"

Talia's already gone out into the hall, phone pressed up against her ear.

You wonder which one of your mothers she has in her contacts.

Surely not Morsa because she's still in that stage where she's pretending to hate your girlfriend but you can't remember your Momma and Talia interacting enough to have swapped numbers and you know for certain that you weren't one to hand out people's numbers without explicit permission.

As the medics fuss and the nutritionist yells, the team also gather around to check that you're alright but you just give them a gallant shrug.

"I'm fine," You say," The epipen did its work."

"I think I'd prefer if you take the day off," The head of the medical team says," Just to be safe. You can come back tomorrow."

You know better than to argue with him so you just nod with a little sigh of annoyance.

"I can take her home," Talia says as she re-enters the room," I've got her."

"I can take a taxi home," You insist.

You and Talia drive in together so only one car is used. If you go home in that car now then she'll have to get a taxi in the middle of rush hour.

"I'll take you home," Talia says," Coach can spare me at training today. Someone's got to make sure you actually follow medical advice."

You roll your eyes. "I swear you've been hanging out with my Momma behind my back." You take the hand she offers to help you stand. "You sound just like her."

You end up back home fairly quickly, curled up on the sofa and practically forced to take a nap.

Prins joins you, curled up in the bend of your knee. Reina settles on the top of the sofa behind your head, completely stretched out and at ease with herself while Kung manages to wiggle himself between your arms to nap there.

You don't know how long you nap for but it must be a while because the sun is setting when you wake up and you can smell Talia cooking up your favourite pasta dish in the world.

You sit up.

You've definitely been sleeping for a while because Reina has migrated to her cat tree, poking her head out of the cave to watch Kung bounce around the floor in outrage at not being allowed up there with her.

Prins has taken Kung's place between your arms and his tongue rolls out of his mouth in a semblance of a dopey smile when he notices you awake, his tail beginning to wag happily.

"Hi, little man," You say, gently scratching between his ears," Did you keep me company?"

Prins' tail wags even more fiercely than before.

"Didn't want to leave your side."

You jolt, shrieking and Prins whines a little.

"Morsa! What are you doing here?!"

"Talia called your Momma," Morsa says, tucking the blanket more firmly around your body," Your allergies acted up."

"I dealt with it," You insist," You didn't have to fly out."

"Yes, we did," Morsa replies," Because if we waited for you to tell us, it would take weeks!"

You puff out your cheeks. "I wouldn't want to worry you over something so silly."

"Are you calling your allergies silly again?" Momma says. She enters with two plates worth of food and you sit up.

Prins leaps down to wander over to his own dog bed. Seeing him lying there, Kung wanders over, jumping up onto Prins' back to finish napping there as Reina ducks her head back into her cave.

"No, Momma," You mumble, accepting your food as Morsa takes a seat on the armchair and Momma to the left of you, leaving an empty space for Talia, who also brings out food for herself and Morsa before taking her own seat.

"Are you feeling better, mi vida?" She asks," You look better."

You nod. "I feel fine. My leg aches a little but that's expected."

"We'll put an icepack on it once we've finished eating. Prins was very worried about you."

Prins raises his head at the mention of his name, tail wagging.

"He's good boy."

Morsa grins from across the room. "I knew getting you a dog was a good idea."

Momma scoffs. "You told me that we should have gotten her a fish."

Morsa coughs to clear her throat and mumbles," Don't lie, Pernille."

"You wanted to get me a fish?" You laugh in disbelief," And you say Rocky is the most disappointing pet in the world."

"Are you really saying your pet rock is more exciting than a fish?"

"Am I?" You pretend to think for a moment. "Yes. Yes, I am."

[goldengalore]

Ready

An anxious!reader fic.

Summary: Harry wants kids. Y/N isn’t sure what she wants. Feeling pressured to make up her mind, she agrees to something she’s not ready for.

Word count: 3k

Warnings: angst, smut

A/N: Hello! It’s been a while. This fic is based on this ask I received forever ago. Enjoy :)

***

Y/N has always been on the fence about having kids.

As a young teenager, she assumed she would have them when she grew up, fell in love, and got married. Social norms, along with her own childish naivete, made her believe that this was the only path one could take in life. Having children was the next logical step to marriage, which was the next logical step to falling in love.

And then she matured and realized that life is not nearly as cut-and-dry, that having kids is a choice, not a necessity, and that she can absolutely go her whole life without having any if that’s what she wants. This realization came as a relief but also felt somewhat unnerving because how is she supposed to know what she wants? She is quite possibly the most indecisive person on the planet, so it’s no surprise that she has bounced back and forth between wanting and not wanting children throughout her entire adult life.

On one hand, she thinks of her friends who have kids and how their lives have become utterly consumed by the little humans that require their constant care and attention. There is just so much that Y/N wants to experience and achieve before settling into a life like that.

Not to mention the horrors of pregnancy. It’s not exactly a walk in the park, having to carry a human life inside of you for nine months and then give birth to it. The health complications, the irreversible bodily changes, the sheer, agonizing pain of childbirth.

And yet, on some days, she fantasizes about becoming a mother, of holding a tiny life in her arms and nurturing it into a full-grown adult. An important character in these fantasies has always been the sweet, thoughtful, loving partner by her side who takes equal responsibility for their child. This person was always a faceless individual—an idealistic depiction of the kind of partner Y/N hoped to find someday.

And then Harry came along.

Sweet, thoughtful, loving Harry who, unlike her, was always sure of his desire to have kids. For him, it was never a question of whether he wanted them but a question of when.

That moment finally arrived for him a year ago. But Y/N wasn’t sure if she felt ready yet.

“What are you afraid of?” he asked her one day. “I don’t mean that in a judgemental way. Bringing a child into this world is scary for anyone, including myself. I’m just curious to know what your specific concerns are.”

“Well, there’s the usual stuff, like whether or not I’ll be a good mother—”

“You’ll be a phenomenal mother.”

She smiled at him, then continued, “Or whether my kids will be able to have a good future with so much chaos in the world...” She trailed off hesitantly.

“But there’s something else,” he said, gently urging her to share what was really holding her back.

“I… I’ve always been terrified of the idea of having to raise a child alone, either because something bad happens to the father or he leaves out of the blue or we break up and I’m left to take care of this child by myself. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I… I’ve never been able to shake this fear.”

“Doesn’t sound ridiculous to me. I was raised by a single mother, so I know it’s not an easy job.” He reached for her hand and kissed her knuckle, never breaking eye contact. “But I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. You know that, right? We’re in this together. We’re a team, always.”

She nodded. “I know.”

“Well, I’m alright with waiting until you feel ready. I want us both to feel ready before we jump into this.”

In the six months following that conversation, the topic would crop up several more times, like after Harry saw her interacting with his godchildren at a party or they walked past a cute baby in a stroller at the grocery store. Y/N didn’t mind discussing the topic. It gave her a chance to ponder and become more comfortable with the concept of motherhood.

Yesterday, Harry returned home from a month-long movie shoot in Sweden. Y/N surprised him by showing up at the airport. What he doesn’t know is that she has another surprise in store for him.

While he was in Sweden, she decided to go off her birth control and now wants to try for kids.

She plans on telling him later tonight once they get home from their friend’s birthday party. They’ve been all over each other tonight. That’s what being apart for a month does to them. Hell, even a week apart is enough to turn them into a couple of horny teenagers that can’t keep their hands off each other.

“You look so hot in that dress,” Harry whispers in her ear, half-joking because they both know this is his fifth time saying that tonight.

Emboldened by a couple glasses of wine, a tipsy Y/N whispers back, “I want you to put a baby in me.”

His eyes widen. He chuckles. “That wine bringing out your wild side?”

“I’m serious,” she states, glancing around to double check that no one is within earshot of their conversation. “I went off my birth control a month ago, after you left for Sweden.”

He stares at her blankly, like her words haven’t quite sunk in.

“H, I’m ready to do this.”

“Really?”

She smiles. “Yes.”

“We’re doing this,” he says as it finally sinks in. He kisses her wine-stained lips. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?”

“Yes, please.”

Y/N can hardly keep her composure on the way home. Harry appears to be in the same boat, as he keeps sneaking glances at her while driving, his hand caressing her thigh. While he’s always been a responsible driver, she can sense the impatience in his maneuvers tonight.

Once they’re home, it’s almost a race to the bedroom. Harry gently pushes her onto the bed and climbs on top of her.

“Do you have any idea how hard it’s been to watch you walk around in this dress tonight”—he runs a hand down her front—“and not be able to bend you over and just slip my cock into you?”

She moans as he cups her pussy through her dress with a firm hand. He lets her grind against it for a minute before pulling away to take off his clothes. She follows suit.

Soon, they’re back on the bed, sharing another series of ardent kisses. By the time he goes down on her, she’s already dripping wet and he licks it up as if he hasn’t had a drop of water in days. Her hips grind against his tongue like they did against his hand just a moment ago. It doesn’t take her long to orgasm.

He shifts up the bed to hover over her body. He kisses her again while lining up his cock with her entrance. As he slides into her, she feels a slight discomfort from being stretched open for the first time in a month. He pulls out and pushes in a little deeper each time to let her adjust until he fills her up completely and she’s too immersed in pleasure to have a single coherent thought anymore.

“Fuck, you feel incredible,” he says, starting to pump in and out. “Gonna come inside you, yeah? Gonna come deep inside your tight little cunt and fill you up, put a baby in you. Is that what you want?”

Those words flip a switch in Y/N’s mind. She makes an involuntary noise that makes it seem like she’s agreeing with him, so he picks up his pace. Just as he finishes inside her, the terrible realization dawns: She is not ready to have a baby. Not at all.

“I love you,” Harry whispers in her ear, his body resting flush against hers as he comes down from his high.

Tears spring to Y/N’s eyes as she realizes what she’s done, what they’ve just done. When she doesn’t reciprocate his statement, he lifts his head to look at her. A tear escapes her left eye at that exact moment.

Concern furrows his brow. “Lovie? Hey, what’s wrong?”

She just shakes her head while staring at the ceiling.

“Y/N.” He caresses her cheek, urging her to look at him. “What’s the matter? Are you hurt? Did I go too—”

“We shouldn’t have done this. It was a mistake,” she says in a trembling voice.

“What are you talking about?”

She tries to sit up. Harry moves out of her way.

“I’m not ready, H. I’m not ready to have a baby.”

His face falls. “I— But— Then why did you say you were ready?”

“I don’t know… To make you happy?” She covers her face and hears him sigh heavily.

“Y/N, you can’t— You can’t lie about things like that just to make me happy. It’s not like we were deciding what to have for dinner. We’re talking about having a baby, for Christ’s sake.”

“I know that. Of course I know that. But I just— I see the disappointment in your face every time we talk about this, every time I tell you I’m not ready. You seem so sad, Harry. I hate it.”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not able to hide my emotions as well as I thought I could. That still doesn’t mean you should lie to please me. I thought we were past foolish antics like this.”

She squints at him. “Foolish antics?”

He sighs again. “I didn’t mean it like—”

She turns away from him and gets off the bed.

“Y/N.”

She shuts herself in the bathroom. For a brief moment, a part of her resents him. Resents him for being ready to have kids before she was. For bringing it up so often. For making her feel as though she needed to lie about being ready just to make him happy.

But now, as she stares at her teary-eyed reflection in the mirror, she knows she has to take responsibility. She is the one who led him to believe that she was ready when deep down, she knew she wasn’t. He never once pressured her to make up her mind or acted like he loved her any less for not wanting kids yet. He never made her feel any type of way about it. He has done nothing but be the supportive, understanding partner he’s always been. It was her who doubted that. She let her own paranoia get to her.

Knock, knock, knock.

“Y/N? Can I come in?”

A few moments later, he knocks again.

“Please, lovie? I’m getting worried.”

Finally, she opens the door. He takes in her red, puffy eyes and tentatively places his arms around her, only pulling her in when she steps into his embrace.

They stand there silently until he says, “Why don’t we head over to the pharmacy and get you a morning after pill?”

She agrees, so they get dressed and head out. The ride to the pharmacy is a quiet one. Every time she glances at Harry, his eyes are focused on the road, both hands gripping the steering wheel, and he appears deep in thought. It’s the complete opposite of their ride home from the party, when he could hardly keep his hands or his eyes off her. She tries to think of ways to break the silence, but nothing feels appropriate. The last time she felt so awkward and unsure about what to say around Harry was when they first started going out and she was terrified of saying the wrong thing.

When they get back from the pharmacy, she swallows down the pill with some water and they head back to bed.

***

Y/N: Hey H, you on your way home? Hope you’re hungry, I made your favourite for dinner 😊

H: I have a business dinner tonight. Mentioned it this morning

Y/N: Oh! Sorry I forgot about that. I’ll save some in the fridge for you for tomorrow

H: Sure, thanks

Y/N stares at the message. She can’t tell if she’s reading into things or if Harry’s replies really are as dry and aloof as they sound. Her propensity to overanalyze everything makes it difficult to know. Ever since the incident in the bedroom a few days ago, it feels as though Harry has been avoiding her. Spending long days at the studio, coming home late at night when he knows she’ll be asleep, giving short replies, taking longer to text back. They haven’t had sex again since then either.

After scrutinizing their text conversation for twenty minutes, she comes to her senses and realizes that she can’t keep going on like this. It’s driving her crazy. What she needs to do is talk to him. But he’ll most likely be tired when he gets home.

At first, she thinks she’ll sit him down tomorrow morning and talk it out. But when he walks through the front door just after eleven o’clock that night, she can’t help herself.

She stands in the kitchen, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea, when he enters. The dark circles under his eyes are noticeable. He has been willing to sacrifice his sleep just to avoid being around her any longer than he has to. Her chest constricts.

“Hey,” he says, placing his phone and keys on the counter. “You’re still up.”

“Can’t sleep.” She stares down into her half-empty mug, the remainder of the tea quickly growing cold.

“How come?”

“I can’t stop thinking.”

“About…?”

She swallows the lump in her throat and looks up at him. “About whether or not you’re upset with me and how I can fix it.”

He frowns. “Why would I be upset with you?”

“Because of what happened a few nights ago.”

His frown dissolves into something different—sympathy? Guilt?

“Y/N, I’m not upset with you about that.”

“Are you sure? Because it seems like it. You’re gone before I’m even awake and you come home when I’m going to bed. We’ve barely talked or kissed or cuddled in the past few days. I know you haven’t been that busy since you got back from Sweden, so… I don’t really see any other explanation.”

He stares at her wordlessly for a long time before speaking. “You’re right. I have been avoiding you. But it’s not because I’m upset with you. It’s because I’m upset with myself. I feel like I pressured you into doing something you obviously weren’t comfortable with. I never saw myself as someone who pressures people into doing things they don’t want to do. So, I suppose I’ve been feeling some shame and guilt about it… and then avoiding you because it’s hard to face these feelings.”

Y/N sets her tea on the counter. She never could’ve guessed that Harry felt this way. She was so convinced that he was mad at her, it didn’t even occur to her that he might just be feeling guilty about it all. After how long she has known him, it should have been obvious that the latter is more consistent with his character, but her anxious brain wouldn’t even let her consider that possibility. She walks over and wraps her arms around him.

“H, I had no idea you felt that way.”

He squeezes her tightly, resting his chin on her head. She turns her head to the side so that her cheek is against his chest.

“To be honest, there were times I felt pressured when the topic of kids came up,” she says. “But a lot of that pressure was created by my own fears and insecurities. I just hated disappointing you over and over. I was scared your feelings about me, about us, would change if I kept saying I wasn’t ready.”

“This hasn’t changed how I feel about you or us. Y/N, I want you more than I want kids. Way more. If you decided one day that you don’t want them at all, that still wouldn’t change how I feel about you.”

She pulls back to look at him. “Are you sure? That’s a dealbreaker for a lot of people.”

“Well, not for me. Not when it comes to you. I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Suddenly, he lifts her up onto the counter and stands between her legs.

“So. What did you get up to today?” he asks, planting a kiss to her collarbone.

She rests her hands on his chest. “Hmm, what did I get up to? I hardly remember anything other than obsessing over this whole situation.” She laughs.

“Aw, lovie, I’m sorry I had you all stressed out.”

“It’s okay.”

“Maybe I can make it up to you. Help you relieve all that stress.” He peppers kisses along the side of her neck and jaw.

She sighs softly and closes her eyes. “I would like that.”

***

Thank you for reading! For more anxious!reader and other fics, check out my MASTERLIST

[ahhhwomen]

The calm before the storm.

Vampire Empire

Part 7.1

Pairing: DarkVamp!Wanda Maximoff x DarkVamp!Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

A/N: Well... here it is. I changed the graphic parts, but it's still violent. This was supposed to be a hurt/comfort chapter, but it just turned into hurt, so I divided the chapter into two, this is the hurt part... and I will try my very best to make the next one a comfort... Writer block hit me like a truck with this one so please excuse bad writing...

AU Warnings: Human pets, abuse, violence, possessiveness, probably incorrect vampire lore, angst, panic attacks, hurt/comfort, kitten play (?), also this is not a Carol positive fic (I have nothing against her, but I needed a villain), death  Minors DNI 18+

Word Count: 3k

CHAPTER WARNINGS: Extreme violence, slightly explicit violence, talk of torture, scars, violence against a child

Taglist

(26 hours before the slaughter)

“Come on pretty girl, I know you can do it, keep your head above the water baby.” Gentle hands try to coax you, pushing against the back of your neck in an attempt to force your muscles into action.

It’s strange, the only other times you have been in the bath is when they were drowning you, perhaps you enjoy this more. It’s hard to tell, you can’t feel much of anything anymore.

Her grip loosens for a moment and your head lolls to the side, foamy bubbles collide with your left ear, the earlobe barely having made contact with the hot water before soft hands return with full force to catch you.

“Hmph.” A frustrated sigh gets drowned out by the insistent buzzing inside your mind. The sound consumes you from the inside, eating away any emotion that slipped past the initial reaping.

A creak slices through the still air as Natasha grits her teeth together, white bone clumsily gliding against itself, barely missing the inside of her cheek. She has been hunched over for the better part of half an hour, but she can do nothing but uncomfortably shift the pressure from one knee to the other, her hands occupied with you.

Wanda had insisted they set you into a routine. So, every night Natasha was tasked with bathing you, though you weren’t making it easy for her.

As her rolled-up sleeve dips into the water for the fourth time while she adjusts, Natasha debates yet again if she should call on Wanda for help, but as her eyes drift over your empty ones, she thinks better of it.

Guilt eats her alive as she works on finishing up your bath and tucking you in.

Three days ago (96 hours before the slaughter):

A wet washcloth is continuously dragged across your forehead as Wanda wipes the sweat away, her fingers follow the path of the moist trail as she feels your temperature and sighs in relief.

After two intense nights, your fever finally broke, but you had yet to wake up. She is just about to tuck you back in when her wife’s voice rings through the spacious room.

“How is she doing?”

Natasha leans against the doorframe while she watches her wife care for you. The wood digs into her shoulder blade, but she ignores it in favor of keeping her distance. As much as the younger redhead craved to be near you, she was cautious to interact with you when Wanda was there.

After the fever gave them quite a scare the day before, Natasha came just as close to losing her life as you. Wanda had fallen asleep with you clutched in her grip after an hour of settling your shaking frame from a nightmare. After a while, Natasha attempted to remove you from Wanda’s possession.

She was merely concerned about Wanda’s heated body irritating your flushed skin, but after almost losing an eye to a sleep-deprived redhead, she left the primal care to her other half.

Wanda hums, her fingers stroking your hair delicately as she kneels beside the plush guestroom bed. As she rakes through them, your hair strands lay clumped together, loosening them strand by strand she soothes herself.

“She needs a bath,” her fingers move from your hair to your face, gently tracing your features. When the pad of her pointer hits a sensitive spot beneath your jaw, you let out a breathy giggle in your sleep, and Wanda can’t help the lift of her lips into a pleased grin.

However, her smile is quickly wiped away as a familiar jingle of metal rattles against your throat as you shift in your slumber.

Natasha hummed her agreement, unaware of her wife’s fleeting attention.

The layers of filth that covered you had to be weeks, if not months, in the making. She was aware that you got a weekly hose down by the shelter, but depending on when Carol loaned you out, you could very easily have missed it.

“Should I get one started?”

With a huff, Wanda nods slowly. Her irritation radiates off of her as she looks you over.

Natasha tilts her head, at her wife’s strange reaction, her shirt gliding against her cheek. “Is there an issue?”

The older redhead looks down for a moment. The sheer uncomfortableness that settles within her very bones is not without reason. Her skin is cold with prickles and goosebumps. Perhaps it’s a ridiculous reaction, but the significance of what she is about to do is crucial to you, she knows that.

However, as the filth and stench of a certain blondie coats itself around the stark leather surrounding your neck, she knows it needs to be done.

She needs to remove your collar.

“Her collar. It needs to be removed.” The words are sneered, almost growled, as Wanda wills the uncertain into existence.

Natasha stiffens, her clothes which were perfectly fine a moment ago now feel disgusting against her soft skin, every stitch piecing it all together feel wrong and patchy.

A collar is a safety net in the power dynamic between a vampire and a pet. It’s always been a part of vampire tradition that the collar is a reminder of good faith. Removing the collar, without the owner’s specific request, means punishment.

If you wake up without your collar, you will never forgive them.

“I will do it.” With her head hung low, Natasha closes the distance between herself and you, crouching down beside her wife. Her knees creak as she sinks into position, her hands reaching toward you.

The sorrow that builds and sinks within her is laughable. They barley know you, and you definitely don’t know them, yet the pull between yourself and them is undeniable. In a lifetime of grief, Natasha was hoping it could symbolize a new beginning, a lifeline of sorts.

Perhaps it wasn’t meant to be.

Just as her fingers struggle against the metal clasp, smaller, softer hands glide over her own and hold them gently.

“No.” The clan leader sighs out calmly.  

Natasha furrows her brows in confusion.

“But-“

“No. I need to do this.” With a sad smile, Wanda removes her wife’s hands and holds them to her lips, “She likes you.” It was the simplified truth.

To be frank, Wanda scares you, she can tell by the way you never find peace around her, even while you are asleep. You wouldn’t trust either of them when you wake, but at the very least she could lessen the burden that will lay on her wife’s shoulders.

With her tail tucked between her legs, the younger girl nods silently and raises herself into a standing position. The loose thread beside her zipper takes over all of Natasha’s attention, she refuses to watch.

Wanda removes your collar in an almost medical procedure, leaning slightly over your tiny frame surrounded by plush pillows and warm blankets, she finds the point of no return and she places her fingers lightly against your skin as her fingers work on opening the clasp.

She knows immediately.

As soon as the back of her ring finger touches your neck.

She knows she will beat Carol Danvers until she is unrecognizable.

“Oh.”

The leather feels rough and scratchy as she clutches it in her grip while looking you over.

“So that’s why she is leased,” Wanda mumbles in a monotone voice.

That finally catches Natasha’s attention again. With a curious glance over Wanda’s shoulder, Natasha falls void of any emotion but one. Pure, unfiltered, hatred.

Back in the day, rouge vampires had a specific way of marking their property.

They called it The Noose of Misery. A name bound in irony, a mockery, as they scarcely felt sorry for this sort of thing.

It was deemed a form of entertainment.

The noose of misery; was to slit your victim’s throat repeatedly, leaving gruesome slashes through thin skin. The first slice was always the same, they would cut the vocal cords. It wasn’t precise, nor pretty, it was merely a rouge slash against vulnerable anatomy.

Due to this, they would often miss their target.

Which would prompt them to hold down their victims until they were satisfied, it wasn’t hard to tell when they succeeded as their victims would fall silent. Or a form of silence as they attempt to refrain from drowning in their own bodily fluids.

The vampires found it most entertaining when their prey ran around like headless chickens, choking and gurgling on their blood, trying their best to scream for help.

Despite the intensity of this game, their food would rarely pass away from it.

A vampire’s blood has a certain healing ability, and contrary to popular belief, drinking the blood of a vampire does not turn you into one. Only a clan leader could sire a new vamp.

So, the youngsters would often find new and innovative ways to watch their victim suffer, and only when the life seeped out of their eyes like the blood did their body, then and only then would the vampires slash their wrists and force it down their preys partially slit throats.

However, even with its healing ability, the blood of a vampire is considered poison. The pain that would sear through you after consumption has often been compared to being burned alive.

That never stopped them.

The ritual would be repeated until the owner was satisfied. Then the last round of slashes would be healed with a singular drop of blood, enough to keep them hanging on by a thread, but no more than that.

When the nasty gashes healed to raised scars, it would be proof of ownership.

In 1898, The Noose of Misery was banned across all clans.

Wanda Maximoff made sure of it.

Yet, there were always those select few that never listened.

Given the scarring, you couldn’t have been older than nine.

Nine?

Nine…

Nine.

There is an audible *click* as two sets of sharpened canines force themselves present as the two redheads look down at the horror.

There was a difference with yours; the first slash was precise and professional, cut right through the vocal cords. It was a given who ordered it to be done, but it was clear she was not the one to do it.

Or rather, she was not the one to do the first slice.

That also explained why you were a less permanent commitment to the shelter. It must have taken place during the trial.

There is a trial period when it comes to buying pets. Some test them for a week, others for a year, it all depends on the customer and how much money they are willing to pay. If they deem the pet unfit, they can return them for half price.

However, shelters and kennels alike have a strict policy against marking their brand. If the pet is marked before being sold, the responsible party is banned from buying said pet, and they have to pay a heavy compensation.

That whore must have paid half a fortune to make up for what she did to you.

Leased pets are damaged goods.

They will never be bought.

Anger crawls like ants within the older redhead.

“And so, the war begins.”

Her expression is blank as she speaks clearly. The anger within her digs in deeper until it mends with her very being. She means every word of it.

Just as the last syllable was worded out, Wanda looked down to see your scared eyes staring right back at her.

There is no telling how long you have been awake while Wanda was preoccupied with staring down at the scars, willing them to dissipate before her very eyes.

With a sigh, Wanda pats your head one last time before you cower away from her touch.

It hurt, but she knew what would happen once your only line of defense was taken away from you. The redhead stares down at the collar held firmly within her hands. She wished she was stronger, that she could return it to you and pretend as if she never knew.

But as you both glue your eyes to leather almost as old as you, the ants turn into giants, a soundly crack can be heard as the dirty material is ripped into pieces right before you.

And with it, you too fall into a disarray of pieces that will never fit back together.

That collar was all you had.

It was all you were.

Without it…

You are nothing.

Nothing but hers.

“Romanoff.” A chill runs down Natasha’s spine at the tone of her wife’s calling.

“Contact the Thor clan and inform them that they have 96 hours to give over Carol Danvers or I will kill them all.”

The command was said so bluntly Natasha could hardly believe her ears. But as she looks over to Wanda’s hunched frame, her nose snarled and her eyes a dangerous glowing red, she breaks out of her trance and excuses herself.

She can comfort you later, but there won’t be a later if she does not obey her wife.

Current time (24 hours before the slaughter):

Wanda has woken up screaming in terror many times in her lifetime. It’s not easy to live as long as she has, to see what she has seen. The same horror burdens Natasha.

So, the older redhead has lost count of the timeless times her slowly beating heart has broken at the sight of her wife crying and screaming in her sleep.

There was nothing more painful.

Or so she thought.

What she could never imagine was how it would make her feel to watch someone attempt to sob their long overdue sorrows, only for them to flail and choke against their own vocal cords silently. Nothing but weak gasps and hoars coughs, the sound itself making her wince in pity.

Breathing through her nose slowly, Wanda has to close her eyes to collect herself before turning toward her wife, who carries an expression not far from her own. With her lip peeled back and her eyes narrowed, Natasha cringes at the sound of your tiny frame fighting the bedsheets.

As her eyes glue themselves to the nanny cam, she set up on their bedside table, Wanda thinks of what limb to start with.

Carol seems awfully attached to those claws of hers…

She is quickly brought back to the present time when a loud gasp emits from the speakers, followed by a heavy thud as you fall off the king-sized bed.

Wanda is on her feet and halfway down the hallway before Natasha can get a word out.

You saw more of the ceiling that night than you did the floor.

Your hands swipe against empty air. The sounds around you are like a cold hollow inside an unexplored cave. Nothing but echoes of lies surround you as you desperately try to grasp the situation in a literal sense. Like a zombie, you growl and groan as your hands seek the source of your misery.

You can’t see her. With your neck split in half, you would have to use both hands to hold your head up.

However, it doesn’t hurt.

Not yet.

So, you fight.

You are far shorter than them, Master is almost double your height, and the other lady isn’t much shorter. If you could just get closer, your hardened hands may be able to grasp them and beg for forgiveness. You can’t really talk though…

The side of your vision darkens as the blood gushes and pools beneath your feet. You can’t see it, but you feel it, it’s like ice pouring down your body.

Streams like rivers, split and thicken into canals, as they cascade down your stomach and glide down your thighs.

Like a switch-

A sneaking wave hits you, suddenly the adrenaline is gone, and the crash is horrendous.

Your knees crash into the floor, your body following behind shortly. The weight of your own body fights against you as you attempt to push yourself upward. With your hands grasping and slipping against amber liquid, your elbows give out under the pressure, and you fall into a heap.

Cracks of a weak child’s bones bounce off the wall as you lay defeated.

Soon, your mind and body become self-aware of your soon-to-be decapitated head, and you can do nothing but gasp and flop like a fish out of water.

It’s really scary.

The small hands of a nine-year-old child claw and paw at the cold floor as two adult women watch for the fourth time that night as a young pet watches Death seek her out.

They break your jaw open, then a wrist is forced into your mouth.

You are scared.

The blood hurts.

It hurts a lot.

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Again.”

“Aga-“

*GASP*

On the other side of town (96 hours before the slaughter):

Carol learned at a very young age that vampires like Wanda Maximoff and Natasha Romanoff think they are invisible. And they were, not a single creature, human, vampire, or otherwise, ever came close to breaking them.

Weren’t you just full of surprises.

A puff of smoke surrounds the blond woman as she leans against the truck. With one leg crossed over the other, her pants rustle against each other as she swishes lightly to one side.

Men and women alike continue to shout and argue in the back as they finish loading up their gear.

Just as she flicks the cigarette to the ground and her boot crunches it against the pavement, her phone chimes.

BabyBoss:

You have 96 hours to give yourself over to the Maximoff clan or I will personally slaughter your entire hometown. Including your fucking childhood dog.

Read 2:13 am

Rolling her eyes, a chuckle builds up within her.

God, you really are full of surprises.

“You ready boss?” A gruff man in his late thirties asks her as she walks over to the back of the truck.

Throwing in her own bag she nods. “Lead the way.”

21 hours. 54 near deaths. 198 slashes. 32 scars.

Nine years old.

(This chapter really wasn't written well, I'm sorry.)

Taglist:

@thinking1bee, @tobiaslut, @esmeseasle, @skittlebum, @tia-thesimp, @maximilfsworld, @leenasayeed, @scarlethexelove, @itsalwaysskorpioszn, @observeowl, @tekanparadiae, @adelareys, @anqyuicka, @ichala, @thalia-is-not-ok, @lovelyy-moonlight, @wandamaximoff-simp, @opossumking03, @confidant-thoughts, @delivery-bird, @esouliie, @geydumbbetch, @dorabledewdroop, @mousetheorist, @herwagonempathkid, @mommysfavouritegirl, @auroraromaximoff, @roman0ffsheart, @morganna-la-faye, @kaosrsing, @marvelwomenarehot0, @lizzieswife101, @og-kxsh-420, @chibilauren, @sgm616, @cyber-juipter, @falloutboy-lover, @xxxtwilightaxelxxx, @likefirenrain, @cole2907, @rahhhha, @taliiiaasteria, @dehydratedcoffeeaddict, @viktoriaromanovaa, @julz2000, @ahintofchaos, @consti-ss, @broimjustadepressedlesbian, @rowiebear, @crispychaosmaker, @mary-20, @romanoff101, @alexawynters, @dinno-nuggets, @riddlesknot

(Does it work when I tag yall like this?)

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

this is gonna be very smutty 😬😬 can you do one where bucky is a dom but reader doesn't know that and she jokingly called bucky sir and he was ready to jump her bones. the rest can be your thoughts but just an idea

Yes, Sir » Bucky Barnes/Winter Soldier

Pairings: Boyfriend!Bucky Barnes x Girlfriend!Reader

Summary: Y/N jokingly calls Bucky sir without knowing that he’s a dom.

Warnings: Smut (18+), language, dirty talk, kissing, hickeys, fingering, f receiving, unprotected sex, rough sex, metal arm kink, sir kink, praise kink, handcuffs, blindfold, choking, dom!Bucky & sub!reader, Bucky’s dog tags, safe word (not used), degrading, name calling (slut), use of pet names

A/N: Thank you for requesting @ilikestucky 🩵

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes and typos.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!🔞

“Oh sir…” You say jokingly in a singing voice.

Bucky snapped his head towards you to see you biting your lower lip and giggling.

“What did you just call me?” Bucky asks, his voice low.

“I called you sir.” You repeated, moving closer towards him on the couch. “What? Do you not like it when I call you sir?” You say seductively.

Bucky’s metal hand wrapped around your throat and pulled you closer to him, roughly kissing you. Your lips parted, a moan leaving your lips. Bucky’s tongue slid past your parted lips, exploring every inch of your mouth.

“Bedroom now.” He practically growls.

“Yes, sir.” You say seductively, standing up from the couch.

Bucky smacked your ass as you walked past him, making you squeak. You stripped yourself from your clothes and waited on the bed for him. Bucky walked in the bedroom, immediately going to his closet to look for something. He walked out of the closet with his hands behind his back.

“Do you trust me, doll?” Bucky asks.

“With my life.” You answered.

Bucky’s hands came into view. He had handcuffs in one hand and a blindfold in the other.

“Arms up.” He orders.

You lifted your arms above your head. Bucky cuffed your wrists to the bed frame.

“Here are the rules, babydoll…” He covered your eyes with the blindfold. “You address me as sir. You don’t cum without my permission. If you disobey me in anyway, I won’t hesitate to spank that cute little ass of yours till it’s red and has my handprint on it, understand?” He says.

“I understand, sir.” You say submissively.

“Good girl.” He praises.

Bucky stripped himself from his clothes and got on the bed and spread your legs.

“You’re about to learn something new about me, babydoll.” Bucky starts. “I’m a dom. Meaning, I like to be in control.” He tells you. “Since you’re new to this, I’m going to start off easy. Also, we’re going to use red as a safe word.” He says.

Bucky’s fingers on his right hand rubbed your pussy, smearing your wetness around. A soft moan fell from your lips. His thumb rubbed your clit in circles.

“Oh sir…” You moaned.

“You like that, babydoll?” Bucky asks, his voice husky.

“Yes!” You moaned.

Bucky’s thumb applied more pressure on your clit as he rubbed it. Two of his fingers unexpectedly slid inside of your tight pussy, moving them at an eagerly fast speed. Your back arched off the bed as you threw your head back in pleasure. Your legs threatened to close, but Bucky forced them back open.

“Don’t make me tie your legs to the bed frame.” He warns.

His fingers moved faster and faster as his thumb rubbed your clit at the same pace. Bucky watched as your mouth fell open and breathy moans left your lips and your chest rise and fell as you breath heavily. His fingers curled, hitting your sweet spot. A loud moan left your lips.

“Oh fuck! Right there, sir!” You moaned loudly.

His fingers continued to hit your sweet spot. Your orgasm began to build up quickly. You pussy squeezed around his fingers.

“I can feel you getting close, doll. I bet you’re so close to the edge that it feels like you’re about to explode. You wanna cum?” He says tauntingly.

“Oh yes! Please sir! Let me cum please!” You begged desperately.

Bucky chuckles at your desperation and moved his fingers faster.

“Cum.” Is all he says.

You did just that. You came so hard that you soaked his whole hand. Bucky’s fingers stopped their movements and he pulled them out of you, giving your clit one last rub roughly before licking your release off of his fingers, moaning at your taste.

“God damn, you taste so fucking sweet.” Bucky says, practically moaning.

You felt Bucky shift in between your legs. He hovered over you, leaning down to mark up your skin. His dog tags touched your chest in between your breasts. Bucky’s hands found their way to your breasts, giving both of them a squeeze before pinching your nipples. A squeaky moan left your lips.

“You’re being such a good girl for me.” Bucky praises, whispering in your ear. “Do you think you can handle more?” He asks.

“Yes, sir…” You breathed. “I want more!” You tell him.

Bucky kissed down your body, stopping at your pussy. You felt his warm breath against your wet pussy, sending a shiver through your body. His tongue licked in between your wet folds, catching you off guard.

“Oh fuck!” You moaned in more of a gasp.

Bucky circled his tongue around your clit a couple time before latching his lips on it and sucked on it harshly. His metal fingers found their way to your tight entrance, unexpectedly sliding two of them inside of you causing you moan loudly. You quickly loved the feeling of his metal fingers. He moved them as fast as he did with his other fingers.

“You like that, babydoll? You like the feeling of my metal fingers fucking your tight little pussy?” Bucky asks.

“Yes, sir! I love them!” You moaned.

Bucky watched as your chest rose and fell for a moment before latching his lips back onto your clit. Your legs began to tremble a little from the amount of pleasure you were receiving. Your legs were about to close, but Bucky placed his right hand on your inner thigh and pushed it back open.

“What did I say about closing these pretty little legs, doll?” Bucky asks.

“N-Not to.” You say in a whimper.

“Then keep them open or I’ll tie them to the bed frame.” He warns.

“Yes, sir.” You say.

Bucky went back to work on your pussy, devouring you. His metal fingers hit your sweet spot each time, making you arch your back in pleasure. Bucky could sense that your second orgasm was coming closer.

“Sir please!” You moaned desperately. “Can I cum again please?” You asked, begging.

“Do you think you deserve it, doll face?” He asks, looking up at you.

“Yes I do!” You gasped when his metal fingers hit your sweet spot again. “I’ve been a good girl.” You say.

“Cum.” He says.

A loud moan left your lips and you tugged on the handcuffs as you came harder than the first time, soaking Bucky’s face and fingers. He removed his metal fingers from your pussy and licked your release off of them. He hovered over again, leaning down to give you a hungry kiss. You moaned when you tasted yourself on his lips.

“You think you’re ready for my cock, doll?” Bucky asks, tapping his tip against your clit causing your hips to jolt upwards.

“Yes, sir.” You answered. “I’m ready for your fat cock.” You say.

Bucky lined his cock at your tight entrance, sliding his cock inside of you in one thrust. A loud gasp left your lips. You thought he’d give you time to adjust to his size, but he didn’t. You were seemingly fine with that. Bucky’s thrusts were rough and hard. The sound of skin smacking filled the bedroom. Bucky put your legs over his shoulders and started pounding into you roughly.

“God damn, you’re fucking tight.” Bucky groans.

His metal hand found its way to your throat, wrapping it around your throat and gave it a light squeeze. He pulled your head up towards him, kissing your lips roughly.

“Tell me, doll face…” Bucky pulls away from your lips. “Are you my dirty little slut?” He asks.

“Yes!” You gasped. “I’m your dirty little slut, sir!” You moaned.

Bucky’s thrusts somehow got rougher when you told him that you’re his dirty little slut. Your cunt squeezed around his cock every time it hit your sweet spot. You felt every vein of his cock rubbing along your wet walls. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head at the feeling.

“Oh, Bucky!” You moaned.

You immediately knew what you did wrong when his grip on your throat tightened when you called him by his name instead of sir.

“Excuse me?” Bucky says.

“Sir! I-I meant sir!” You corrected yourself through a moan.

“Call me the wrong name again and your ass will be red for days.” He warns.

His right hand found its way to your clit, his fingers rubbing it roughly causing your pussy to squeeze around his cock. Your third and final orgasm began to build up quickly the more his cock hit your sweet spot and his fingers rubbed your clit. You were trying so hard not to cum without his permission.

“Gonna cum again, doll face?” Bucky asks, panting.

“Mhmm yes!” You whimpered.

“Too bad you’re not going to.” He says.

You whined in frustration which was a mistake on your part cause his metal hand applied more pressure on your throat.

“Quit your fucking whining.” He starts. “Good girls don’t whine.” He says.

“S-Sorry, sir.” You apologized. “I want- need to cum.” You say.

“You think you deserve to cum?” He asks.

“Yes I do.” You tell him. “I’ll be a good girl, sir! I promise!” You say.

“Hmm…” He thought about it for a second. “Cum.” He says.

Your mouth fell open, a loud moan left your lips as you came so hard that it dripping down your inner thighs and Bucky’s lower abdomen and the front of his thighs.

“Fuck…” Bucky moans, his thrusts became sloppy as his orgasm came closer to the edge.

Bucky came inside of you, thrusting a few more times before stopping. His metal hand left your throat and he pulled out of you. He took the blindfold off of your eyes. You squinted your eyes to adjust to the light Bucky uncuffed your wrists from the bed frame. Your wrists had red marks on them. Bucky left the bedroom to get a wet towel from the bathroom to clean the two of you up. You were curled up on your side, your eyes droopy. Bucky laid down behind you and covered the two of you up with a blanket. He wrapped his arms around you, his metal fingers rubbing up and down your side.

“You did so well for me, doll.” Bucky almost whispers. “Get some rest. I love you.” He says softly, kissing the side of your head.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

[to-thelakes]

I think Luke is low-key a little possessive. Not in like a jealous you can't talk to anyone way but like marking you up and wanting you to tell him you're his during sex. He also enjoys seeing you in his clothes

yours

pairing; luke alvez x fem!reader

summary; luke wants to give you all the pleasure he can but maybe he gives a little too much

warnings; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+, smut, pure smut, breeding kink (if you squint), overstimulation (so much overstimulation), a lot of talk of fluids, reader squirts once, luke marks reader up, hurt/comfort but not really hurt (reader is just overstimulated and pleasure drunk), little bit of crying because of said overstimulation, just really horny, dom!luke, sub!reader

notes; i feel like the actual fic may have veered away from the ask a bit but i kind of took luke being possessive and fucking ran with it, like RAN with it, uhm, yeah, a 3k one-shot of just luke and reader being horny, i've shared like horny one-shots before but this feels like a new level so uhm, i hope you enjoy and any feedback is helpful since i literally never share my smutty writings!

masterlist

Luke’s arms were caging you in as he slowly thrusted into you. He had already pulled two or three orgasms from just slowly fucking into you and your mind was drunk on pleasure. He was kissing you as you moaned and whined into his mouth. His tongue licking into your mouth as your nails dug into his chest, scratching at his tanned skin. Every sensation was maddening.

And then his lips slipped from yours and down to your neck. He nipped at your skin and you threw your head back, giving him access to every inch of skin on your throat. He had already left hickeys that you knew weren’t gonna fade for days but you really didn’t care. You loved when he marked you up. You also knew that he loved doing it.

“My pretty carina,” He mumbled against your throat and you whined. His thrusts were still slow, dragging everything out as you squeezed your eyes shut. You felt like you were being slowly torn apart and it was like nothing you’d ever experienced, even with him. He had come back from a case desperate and needy and he hadn’t even cum yet. Instead, he was trying to draw as many orgasms from you as he could.

“Luke,” You whined, feeling the familiar pressure in your gut. Your walls contracted around him and he groaned against your neck. His head fell forward, his forehead resting against your throat as he squeezed his eyes shut. You were whining and kneening, digging your fingers into any part of him that you could, “Oh God,” You moaned as your back arched. He was desperately trying to hold back blowing his load as his teeth sunk into your neck. The way you felt around him only made it harder to control and everything shunted forward as you gushed around him. It was dripping down your ass and thighs, coating every part of you in sticky slick. But Luke didn’t let up.

“Luke,” You whined, throwing your head back as he continued his slow, even thrusts. Your walls were so sensitive and your legs were shaking, “Please,” You continued, not even entirely sure what you were begging for. Luke smirked against your skin before he lifted his head up so he could look at you. He rested his hand against your cheek as he continued his measured thrusts.

“What is it, baby?” He asked, somehow still put together despite everything. Your cunt was wet, warm and he was slipping in and out so easily. You didn’t understand how he was able to hold on for this long. You felt your sanity beginning to slip as he continued to thrust into you, your mind so drunk on pleasure that you couldn’t think straight. You couldn’t even respond to his question which made him smirk, “Am I making you feel good?” He asked, a teasing lilt to his tone. You tried desperately to nod, moaning as he adjusted his hips to get a better angle. His cock hit your cervix with every thrust and you could barely think straight, “Who’s making you feel good?” He continued as he rested his forehead against yours. Your breaths were mingling as you whined and keened, chest pressed against his as your fingers moved to drag down his chest.

“You, you are,” You moaned out as he shoved into you particularly harshly. Your eyes fell closed as you dug your nails into his back, “Just you, only you, oh God, Luke,” You devolved into mindlessly whining and panting as you felt another orgasm already begin to make itself known. Your walls were contracting around him and he squeezed his eyes shut again. It was getting harder and harder to hold himself back.

“Am I gonna make you cum again? Cum for me, baby.” His voice was in your ear and it sent you over the edge. Your nails dug into his back, leaving crescent shaped marks on his shoulders as you gushed around him. Your legs were shaking, wrapped around his waist as you convulsed, desperately trying to work through the orgasm but it was getting harder. Especially when he was still slowly thrusting into you, your walls were so oversensitive, you felt like you were losing your mind. Eyes squeezed shut, panting, whining and your back arched while your nails dug into his back. It was probably painful but he made no indication that it bothered him as your head was thrown back. It was impossible to even think.

And he was still thrusting into you. Every single one sent pleasure tickling up your spine and it was toeing the fine line between pleasure and pain and you could feel yourself slipping away. You weren’t even sure how long he had been thrusting into you and you knew that you were whining and moaning his name but you weren’t sure what you were saying. You were babbling as he continued to suck hickeys into your neck and mumble about how you were his and only his. It was maddening.

“Fuck,” Luke whined, goddamn whined against your throat as he felt your tightening around him again. You were panting, breathless and dazed as you felt yourself cumming again. Tears were dripping down your face, your pleasure-addled mind completely lost in itself as he thrusted again and again. But it was getting too much and he abruptly pulled out just as you came.

You squirted, goddamn squirted but without his cock to squeeze around, you had nothing to latch onto. You damn near sobbed as you clawed at his back, trying to work through your orgasm without anything. Luke was panting against your throat, hands digging into the mattress as he tried to calm himself down.

“Luke,” You whined, your orgasm finally having passed and your hand lazily moved to tug at his hair. Every movement was sluggish and slow and your grip was weak but he lifted his head up anyway. Your eyes were barely able to focus on him, tears of pleasure still streaming down your face as you tried to tug him to you, “Please, cum in me, please,” You begged. You rested your forehead against his, pressing soft kisses to his lips between whimpers of ‘please’. Luke’s eyes fell closed as his hand moved to cup your jaw.

“You want me to fill you up?” He asked. You nodded your head as you tugged at his hair with a weak grip. “Please, I’m yours. Want you to show me how much you love me. Want you. Just you, please. Please, I need to feel it,” You were begging breathlessly, not even entirely sure what you were saying. It was just endless babble as you told him that you belonged to him and that you needed him. Luke groaned against your lips before he looked down to line himself back up before he slipped in. You let out a high-pitched whine. Your walls were so sensitive but you didn’t care. You just wanted him to cum, you needed him to.

“Tell me who you belong to,” He whispered against your lips as he began to fuck into you again. His thrusts started off slow and he watched your mouth fall open. Your body gave in to him again as your legs fell from around his waist.

“You, just you. Always belonged to you, Luke,” You rambled. It was almost like a mantra, a chant and you couldn’t think of saying anything else. His name was the only thing your pleasure-addled mind could come out with and his thrusts began to speed up. It wasn’t slow anymore, it was rough and you were being fucked back into the headboard as you whined. Your head was thrown back and his lips attached to your collarbones, biting and sucking at the skin between his groans and pants. Your walls were squeezing around him involuntarily as he thrusted harder and faster, chasing his orgasm. They became less rhythmic and you knew he was going to cum.

“Please, wanna feel you,” You begged as he moved, “I belong to you. Wanna feel you dripping inside me all day.” Luke moaned against your chest, your words making his hips stutter before he buried into you and painted your walls white with his cum. He panted against your collarbone as he thrusted once or twice more before he settled against you. His dick was still buried in you as he collapsed against your body.

His head rested above your heart and he could hear how fast it was beating as he panted, desperately trying to get his breath back.

“Fuck, Luke,” You mumbled softly. He chuckled, his chest rumbling and you whined softly, feeling his dick change positions inside of you, “I can’t- I can’t take anymore,” You muttered after a moment. Your voice was so quiet and fragile. Luke understood what you meant and though he felt boneless from his own orgasm, he lifted up enough to support himself.

“Just breathe, I’m gonna pull out,” He warned you. One hand rested against your face as he slowly pulled his softening dick from you. You whined at the loss, your eyes squeezing shut to prevent tears from falling before you pressed your thighs together. The sticky wetness of your cunt and thighs was something that you were both incredibly familiar with and it made Luke pout when you closed your legs.

“Give me a- give me a minute,” You mumbled, voice cracking. Luke nodded and he moved up so that he was cupping your face.

“It’s okay,” He whispered softly against your lips. You hummed out in response before you let out a ragged breath, “You did so well. You were perfect,” He added. Your shoulders sagged at the praise, the feelings of euphoria somehow becoming even better with his soft praise. His lips moved to kiss your forehead, “You need to get cleaned up though,” He reminded. You whined and shook your head side-to-side, thinking about how overstimulating it would be on your poor abused cunt. You didn’t even want to think about it.

“No, no, no. Let me just. I wanna stay here, let me stay here,” You begged, hands moving to cover your face as the tears began to blur your vision all over again. The very thought of getting out of bed made you want to start crying. Your emotions were all out of whack after the mind-blowing number of orgasms that he had given you. You could feel the lump forming in your throat at even the thought of anything touching your cunt right now.

“Hey, hey,” Luke’s voice softened as he took a gentle hold of your wrist. He had never seen you so emotionally wrecked from him fucking you. He couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. It twinged at his gut but he did his best to ignore it so he could take care of you, “I’m right here. Baby, look at me.” His voice was so soft yet commanding. It was hard not to listen to him as you forced your eyes open and let him take your wrists away. Tears were blurring your vision and a few of them began to fall as he admired you with such love, “What’s wrong?” He asked. You let out a choked sob at his question and your hands moved to tug at his neck, wanting to hold him.

“Too sensitive, don’t, can’t touch it,” You rambled. Luke let you drag him into a hug, letting you hold his hand as he did his best to keep any pressure off your lower half.

“Okay, what about a bath? Nobody has to touch it,” He suggested from where you had forced him onto your chest. You nodded and he smiled softly. He took a hold of your hand, pressing a kiss to your palm before he moved to sit up on his knees, “I’ll run a bath. Just stay here,” He said. You nodded but your lip was quivering. It was clear that you didn’t want him to leave but he knew that he needed to get you both cleaned up in whatever way he could. His own thighs and dick were covered in your slick and as much as he loved the feeling, he also knew that he needed to clean it up at some point.

Once Luke had disappeared into the bathroom, you curled up on your side. Your cunt was still so sensitive and the only way you could stop feeling the twinge was by relaxing your thighs. It took everything in you to concentrate on that so your emotions were going haywire.

You wanted Luke back with you in bed, you needed his touch and even though he was only the room over, you began to cry. It was soft at first, little hiccuping sobs before they got louder. You needed to be with Luke and so, you pushed yourself off the bed.

Your legs were shaky, like jelly, from the way he’d fucked you and you were barely able to keep yourself upright but you used the dresser and the walls of your bedroom to get to the ensuite. You were still sobbing, they were soft but ugly noises as you pushed the door open. Luke’s head snapped up and his face broke into a frown when he saw your disheveled state.

“What, what happened? Are you okay?” He asked quickly. You stumbled over to him before wrapping your arms around him.

“Just needed you,” You managed between soft hiccuping sobs. He was still frowning as he wrapped you up in a hug. He had never seen you like this after sex. It honestly terrified him and the guilt was wrapping him up. You were sobbing, covered in marks and he knew that you liked it. He knew that it didn’t bother you and you would have used the safe word if something went too far that you didn’t like but you hadn’t. He didn’t know what to think.

“Did I hurt you?” Luke asked as he wrapped you up in his arms. You shook your head.

“Felt so good,” You mumbled between hiccups. His hand ran soothing circles across your back and it was calming the tears down, “Felt so good but wanted to be with you. I didn’t want to be without you. Just needed your arms around me.” You were rambling, your emotions really were haywire. Luke didn’t know what to think and so he just caressed your hair and rubbed your back until your sobs had subsided.

The bath was also drawn and so he switched the taps off before he let you towards it. He insisted that you get in first and so, you slipped into the water. It was warm and you instantly felt so much better. It soothed your frayed nerves but when you looked at Luke, he seemed hesitant to join you. His mouth was set into a frown.

“What’s wrong?” You asked softly. Your eyes were still red and puffy and your cheeks were tear-streaked but Luke made you feel better. He had made everything so much better. You reached out for his hand but he seemed hesitant to touch it, “Please, get in the bath,” You mumbled, feeling your eyes get teary again. You were beginning to think that you had done something wrong and the terror gripped you, “Please,” Your voice cracked. Luke was quick to kneel down on the bathroom floor so he was on the same level as you. His hand held you.

“Did I cross a line?” He asked, voice serious. You shook your head. Your mind was so scrambled but that was one thing you were sure of, “I need words.” Your head fell forward and you swallowed the lump in your throat.

“I would have said something. You didn’t, you didn’t cross a line. Please, I want you here. Please,” You were practically begging for him and even if you were still an emotional wreck, he noted that it was the most put together you had sounded since he had cum.

With a reluctant nod of his head, he got up to his feet and slipped into the bath behind you. Within seconds, you had curled up on his chest and you rested your head against his pec. You were just glad that he was here.

The two of you stayed in the bath until the water was cold, sitting in comfortable silence apart from when you mumbled to each other about cleaning up. Luke had done his best to be gentle as he washed your thighs and your cunt was less sensitive which meant he was able to gently wipe across it. Your clit twitched but otherwise, you felt fine.

You were then able to turn your attention to him and as you came back from the emotional wreck that Luke’s fucking had made you, you cleaned him up. You started with his thighs before you spread water across his chest and arms. You kissed his face, showing him all that love that he wanted and as the bath went on, the rigidness of his shoulders began to relax.

Once you had both gotten out, he seemed to have fully relaxed again. You were also feeling more sober and sane than you had all night. Luke helped you dry off and then he gave you his shirt to wear to bed. You didn’t argue, you never would. You loved his shirts and when you slipped it on, you felt at ease. Luke also loved to see you in his shirts. It made him grin and when you looked at him with those adoring features, he couldn’t help the smile that overtook him.

The two of you slipped into bed after Luke changed the sheets and when you were safely snuggled up to him, he broached the question again. It was clear that Luke was a little surprised by just how fucked out you had been and when he asked if what he did was okay, you once again reassured him that you loved it. 

You also confessed that you had never felt so turned on and he had pulled more orgasms from you than any man ever had. That did boost Luke’s ego a little but he was still concerned. You had been so emotional and you told him that you were only crying because you missed him and wanted to hug him. You reassured him over and over again that you had never been in pain and even let it slip that you wouldn’t mind him doing that again.

That was probably what surprised Luke the most. Considering how sensitive and upset you had been and how desperate you were for nobody to touch your cunt, you wanted to feel it again. That’s what finally soothed Luke’s guilty conscience. It was the way that you smirked over it, giggling to yourself at the thought of him fucking you like that again.

“I hope it wasn’t a one time thing,” You muttered as you traced shapes across his abdomen. You were tracing stars and squares and triangles and swirly patterns, trying not to think too much about how good it felt. If you thought too much, you’d be wet again and you’d wanna beg Luke to fuck you until you couldn’t think straight again. But considering how freaked out it made Luke, you didn’t want to put him through that again. Not until he was ready, “You can do that again whenever you want,” You added, “But if you never want to do it again, I understand.” Luke’s hand moved to your chin and he lifted up your jaw. “If you want me to do it again, I’m more than happy but not tonight,” He responded before he pressed a soft, slow, long kiss to your lips. He pulled back and you whined softly, wishing that maybe it could have lasted longer.

“Maybe not tonight,” You muttered. He hummed out in response before pressing a kiss to your temple and settling back into bed. You were exhausted, it was beginning to seep back in and the conversation continued until you fell asleep curled against his side.

<3

[starlightxsvt]

Bloodily Safe | j.ww

pairing ➳ psychopath!wonwoo x fem!reader

genre ➳ psychological thriller? camgirl au(read note below), college au, smut

word count ➳ 18.5k

warnings ➳ toxic relationship, blackmailing, drinking, descriptive domestic abuse, death, manipulation, threatening, fingering, slapping, choking, marking, cum eating, degradation, virgin sex, unprotected sex, rough sex, humiliation kink, pain kink, psychopathic behaviours, very descriptive violence, blood, rape attempt, arson, murder (lmk if I forgot smth)

synopsis ➳ you have a little secret. one you are desperately hiding. yet the boy you have a crush on has figured it out. now a game of cat and mouse has begun. how do you make it out alive?

disclaimer:❗ I am, by no means an expert in behavioural abnormalities so please keep in mind that this is a work of fiction. I tweaked the story and their characteristics to my needs so please don't take this seriously. Also, this fic contains some highly sensitive topics so please read the warnings carefully. Do not interact if you are sensitive to these things ❗

note: reader isn't a camgirl in the typical sense, she basically reads erotica on live.

loosely based on the kdrama shadow beauty

I.

The glaring red light of the camera lens blinks at you as pause for a moment between your reading. Your tablet sits on your lap, glowing brightly in the lowly lit room as 8 thousand viewers watch you live through the lens.

With a sigh, you continue reading in your best teasing voice.

Your mouth hangs open in a silent scream as you feel him release inside you, making you clench. You’re not surprised when he doesn’t stop but continues thrusting inside you, far from being done with you and you feel another orgasm impending. Your pussy hurts in the best ways possible and just thinking about coming once again have your toes curling.

Surprising you, one of his hands move onto your neck, gripping it firmly and applying just enough pressure to make your body curl up and see stars. It triggers your orgasm, multiplying it by hundreds and seeing the godlike man on top of you, reaching his high, his dark, predatory eyes trained on you makes you go off like a rocket. You swear you see God himself as your body completely lets go and you feel like you’re floating in a place of pure bliss. The feeling of him releasing inside you makes you shudder before he slips out and shuffles on the bed, probably cleaning you up but you’re too gone to care.

With a blissful smile and a hazy mind, you let sleep take you.

"That will be all for today guys. Thank you so much for tuning in. I'll be back on Thursday night!" You wave at the camera as soon as you finish and do your signature pose— making half hearts on your cheeks with your hands as the viewers leave comments asking you to stay a bit longer. Sending a flying kiss towards the camera you turn off your live and watch as the screen loads to show you how much you've earned for the two-hour live. Once the number pops up, you sigh with satisfaction and finally, take off the mask that you wear to conceal your identity.

After all, you wouldn't want people, especially your classmates or professors to find out you read erotica live in skimpy underwear and flirt with people to earn some extra bucks.

Well, a girl's gotta do what she gotta do.

Quickly changing out of the uncomfortable lingerie, you put on a comfortable t-shirt and crawl to bed with your laptop to check if the money has been transferred to your account. The camming website takes 20% of whatever you earn from each live yet the amount left is enough for you to make your work worthwhile.

Camming was never in your mind at all, even in your wildest dreams. Yet when your mother fell sick last year and the medical bills started piling up, you knew you had to find some easy way to earn good money. Then, one day, you overheard a couple of girls in class talking about camming and how good the money is.

Simply curious, you visited the website only to be unlocked to a whole new world. Thousands of people did a variety of adult content there but you were not brave enough to get naked from the start. So you opted for a safer option, reading erotica on live while wearing lingerie and flirting with the camera.

The first time you did it was only to test the waters using whatever equipment you had at hand but surprisingly, the response you got shocked you. So it started, you doing lives two days a week and earning enough money to pay for your mother's treatment and your college bills.

nerdycatboy wants to chat with you

The notification appears on your screen, telling you someone wants to talk to you privately on the camming website. You generally block these messages as most of them ask for nudes or send dick picks. Still, you click on it and watch as three dots appear, your fingers hovering over the block option, ready to press it as soon as the sender sends something inappropriate.

Surprising you, the message reads:

[nerdycatboy]: Hello, cherrybaby!

Today was the second time I watched your live.

You have a really beautiful voice.

I don't frequent these sites but I opened an account just to send you tips. Hope you received them.

Somewhat flattered, you type out a reply.

[you]: Thank you so much. I'm flattered to hear that. And yes, I received them.

[nerdycatboy]: You're welcome.

Also, I wanted to tell you something.

[you]: Sure.

[nerdycatboy]: I know who you are.

[you]: Excuse me?

[nerdycatboy]: ______. ______ of the Psychology department, Seoul University.

You're studying on scholarship.

Wanna know something funny?

I am your classmate ;D

Your throat feels something akin to a desert as you blink at the screen, praying for it to be a hallucination. The words, however, don't change and the daunting realization hits you.

Someone has figured out your identity.

Someone knows it's you.

But who?

Shit, who? Who could it possibly be?

You share your classes with almost eighty other people and it's impossible to guess this... stalker.

You're absolutely fucked.

It has only been a month since college started and you are doomed. What if whoever this is, exposes your identity and you are expelled?

Dear almighty, please let this be a dream.

A sudden ping! alerts you about another message, making you jump. Carefully, you open the chat to see what your stalker has to say.

[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't leave me on read.

You wouldn't want me to get angry now, would you?

A squeak of despair leaves your lips as your fingers nervously hover over the keyboard.

[you]: What do you want?

[nerdycatboy]: To play a game.

This really isn't looking good.

[you]: Please, just leave me alone.

[nerdycatboy]: Ey, where's the fun in that? Come on now, we'll just play silly little games.

You stare at the screen, your world coming down crashing on you as you wonder in the back of your mind, whether you should stop camming for good. Even if you wanted to, it's not possible.

Who's gonna pay for your mom's bills?

[nerdycatboy]: You there?

[you]: Yes.

[nerdycatboy]: Good. I'll come again before your next live. We're gonna play a little game then, okay?

You stare at the screen in silence.

[you]: Okay.

[nerdycatboy]: That's a good girl. In the meantime, have fun trying to figure out who I am. We see each other every day after all. It's just that you wouldn't know who I am.

You grind your teeth, holding back the urge to type all sorts of curse words you can think of.

[nerdycatboy]: Bye bye, now. Sleep tight.

[you]: Fuck you, loser.

You slam your laptop shut and lie in silence, curled up in your bed. The only way out seems to be to permanently delete your account but that is not an option for you. It is also quite literally impossible for you to figure out who it is. You don't even know if it's a guy or a girl or a goddamn fucking alien.

As the night grows deeper you only start to get more anxious and only when the sun starts to rise in the sky, do you fall asleep, your dreams plagued by the haunting messages from earlier.

II.

"_____? _____!"

The deep voice jolts you awake as you blink around, taking time to realize that you've fallen asleep on your desk during the lecture which now seems to have ended as you see everyone around you packing their bags and leaving.

A man stands next to your desk, holding a few sheets of paper towards you and you blink at them, confused.

"The professor gave us the answer sheet for last week's quiz. You seem to have fallen asleep during class." He says.

Your brain finally starts functioning just enough to realize it's Wonwoo talking to you.

Jeon Wonwoo.

The famous nerd, the genius, the pro gamer, the campus crush, the it boy and...

The man of your dreams.

"Right! Right, thank you," you croak, reaching for the sheets with one hand while trying to wipe the corners of your mouth for any drool.

"It's alright." He replies, as impassive as ever. His expression remains somber as always as he regards you through his glasses. Sometimes you wonder if he's a robot. Even though you have known him since high school, you've yet to see the man smile or shout or show any vivid emotion. He has always been the quiet type, keeping to himself, always studying or doing whatever intelligent people does.

He was the most popular guy in high school, loved by all, even the teachers, because of his perfect and polite demeanor and extraordinary results that got him many awards at the national level. The fame followed him to college too as you have seen in the last two months; with women and even some men flocking around him. You are not ashamed to admit you are one of them too, but not like it matters.

Jeon Wonwoo seems to be living in a completely different world.

"No, thanks, really." You reply, slightly awkward, not knowing what else to say exactly. He nods and slings his backpack over his shoulder and turns around to walk away. He seems to have a thought as he turns his head and asks, "Rough night? I haven't seen you doze off in class ever. You are always on top of your game."

Holy shit, that is the most amount of words he has spoken to you. Scratch that, that's the most you've ever heard him speak at a time.

And more importantly, he has been paying attention to you?? He notices you enough to know that you don't doze off?

Swallowing, you try not to let your face break out into a grin. "Yeah kind of," you mumble. He nods and spares you a glance before walking out of the classroom as you watch his lean, athletic frame from behind, a soft sigh escaping from your lips.

After he's gone, you pack up your stuff, mentally face-palming yourself for falling asleep during class. Not only did you fail to keep an eye out for your stalker but you also made a fool of yourself in front of Wonwoo.

What a great day!

III.

The next Thursday, a delivery from an anonymous person comes to you just a couple of hours before your live. A handwritten note sits on top as you open the package and your gut sinks once you realize who it's from.

Hello there, little cherry!

Please accept my lovely gift. Wear it in your live today unless you want your secret to be out ;)

Also, wear something black with it.

Love, your new best friend!

You crumple the note in your hand as you eye the package nervously, dread filling your veins as your mind tries to conjure what the item might be. Hands shaky, you reach for it to rip it open and then stand in silence as you gaze at it for a while.

The asshole sent you a cat costume.

A sexy cat costume.

More specifically a pair of black cat ears, a cat mask, a pair of paws and a... fucking tail.

Absolutely mortified at the idea of wearing these provocative items on live, you sink onto the floor, an utter sense of despair settling over you.

Sweet lord, this has to be a joke.

Quickly logging in to the camming website you type your new best friend a message.

[you]: You're kidding me, right? Please tell me this is a joke.

The asshole is very quick to reply.

[nerdycatboy]: I see you have received my gift. No, little cherry, I am not kidding.

You grind your teeth, eyes burning holes in the screen.

[you]: I can't wear that on live!

[nerdycatboy]: Why not? You'll look absolutely lovely. The black really goes with your skin tone.

Oh for fucks sake.

[you]: Are you a fucking furry?

There are several minutes of silence.

[nerdycatboy]: You are fucking cute you know that? I don't remember the last time I laughed this hard.

[nerdycatboy]: No, cherry, I am not a furry. I just like cats and you remind me of one. I bet if I touched you, you'd purr real good.

You would never admit how that text sent a jolt of shiver down your spine and made your toes curl.

[you]: Please, can you not do this?

[nerdycatboy]: Come on now, don't whine. It won't get you anywhere.

[nerdycatboy]: I'll tune in later. If you do not do as you're told you know what will happen...

[nerdycatboy]: Ah, I forgot. You don't have to wear the tail during your live. It will be uncomfortable to sit with. Just send me a picture later, hmm?

[nerdycatboy]: Bye now.

Fucking mother of all fucks.

You toss your phone on the bed, groaning out loud in frustration. The cat ears and mask sit next to you on the floor, mocking you in silence.

IV.

"Hello, my darlings! This is your favorite cherrybaby, back with you. Today I'll be reading the second chapter of Sugar & Spice!"

The comments, as you expected, go nuts over your outfit— the black cat ears with the mask, covering the better half of the top of your face, the furry paws paired with a lace black lingerie. Despite your initial thoughts of ignoring them, you decide to address them with their never ending onslaught.

"Everyone is talking about my little props today." You pause for an awkward chuckle. "Well, I thought I would spice things up. Aren't these cute?"

You can hear the stiffness in your own voice. Shaking it off, you read a few comments while waiting for the live to reach your minimum number of tips, which only takes a few minutes today before you start reading the erotica.

Throughout the live, u have no idea if the asshole has joined in and you almost start to think that maybe he has left you for good, that maybe it was a one time prank. However during the last ten minutes of your live, as you proceed to wrap it up you see the notification that bring your eyes to your forehead.

nerdycatboy gifted you 500$.

Holy shit.

Holy fucking shit.

As soon as your live is finished you shoot him a private message.

[you]: Didn't think you'd be that pleased to see me dressed up as a cat.

[nerdycatboy]: Oh cherry, I was pleased alright. You were an absolute sight for sore eyes.

[you]: Thank you I guess?

[nerdycatboy]: Welcome. Now send me some pictures. Wearing the tail.

[you]: Can you answer a question first?

[nerdycatboy]: No promises.

You sigh. Here goes.

[you]: Are you a guy or a girl?

[nerdycatboy]: Why? Wouldn't send me the pictures if I was a girl?

You roll your eyes.

[you]: Just trying to narrow down my suspect list.

[nerdycatboy]: Cute. Keep trying. I am a guy. The man straight out of your nightmares, as you will start to find out.

Okay...

There are many many guys in your class, literally half of the total students. It's impossible to figure him out among them.

[nerdycatboy]: Now the pictures, cherry. Don't keep me waiting.

His message breaks your train of thought as you sigh, defeated. Telling him to wait while you fetch the stupid cat tail and clip it on your underwear. You're too humiliated to look in the mirror so instead you place your tripod on the bed with your phone and pose a couple of times or so, one from the front and one from the back.

As you scroll through them, you cannot bring yourself to believe you just took these pictures and let alone you're about to send them to someone. Each of them is equally provocating and humiliating. Before you start to think too much you bite your lip hard and send, watching as he views your message.

[you]: There you go, asshole.

[nerdycatboy]: Only three?

[you]: Take it or leave it. I'm tired.

You reply, not caring to be polite. The frustration and humiliation get to you as you rip the stupid things off your body and toss them away before falling on your bed and lying face down in silence.

[nerdycatboy]: Getting feisty. It's okay, I'm feeling kind today so I'll let you go.

[nerdycatboy]: Until next time, little cherry. xoxo

You watch his messages, a numbing feeling of defeat settling over you as you turn off your phone and push it away.

Even though you desperately want to think of nothing a thought continues to nag you. A shameful, despicable thought that you just can't seem to ignore.

You might be really enjoying being humiliated by an unknown man on the internet. How truly absurd, no? You let out a scream of frustration into the pillow. A faceless, seemingly rich man who has a kink of humiliating you is keeping your mind awake and body restless at night.

How did it ever get to this?

V.

[nerdycatboy]: I've been thinking about your task for tomorrow and finally made a decision.

[you]: Okay...

[nerdycatboy]: Wear a white shirt. Nothing more, nothing less.

[you]: Excuse me?

[nerdycatboy]: You heard me all right, little cherry.

You keep staring at the message as if looking at it long enough will make it disappear. It definitely doesn't. In fact, it gets worse.

[nerdycatboy]: And keep the top two buttons undone. Showing a little cleavage won't hurt. And wear red lipstick.

You keep staring at your screen, wondering in the back of your mind for the nth time just how your life came to be this.

God sure loves to test you.

[you]: I'm not a harlot you know.

[nerdycatboy]: Never said you were one. Besides what's wrong with being a one?

Him and his way with words. You roll your eyes, your fingers pressing the keys on the keyboard angrily.

[you]: If I wear white my tits will show.

[nerdycatboy]: That's exactly the point.

A seething rage envelopes your entire being as you clench both of your fists, inhaling a few deep breaths to stop yourself from smashing something. Ever since you came across this asshole you're realizing you've unlimited anger that you never thought you had in you.

[you]: Whatever, dick.

You reply and shut off your computer in an unsuccessful attempt to block him out.

However, the next day, you do end up doing your live in a plain thin white shirt which of course, makes the chatbox go up in flames.

Within a minute of starting your live, comments about your outfit start flooding in.

Fuck, you look so hot!

The red lips suit you so much!!

Yo, I can see her nipples.

You're getting bolder these days. Love to see it!!!

I'll pay anything for you to take the shirt off.

Swallowing, you ignore the crude comments and start with your usual greeting. "As you can see, everyone, my outfit is a bit risky today. Just thought I'd venture into something new." You force a laugh.

Did she lose a bet or something?

Yes, we need more risky outfits. How about being topless next time?

It's a downpour of all types of comments but you can't let them get to you. So you start reading the erotica instead, reading one or two decent comments every now and then for the next two hours. The view count is insane, the highest you've ever had and the number of tips are also sky high.

A tiny, tiny part of you is thankful to your crazy stalker, whom, you haven't seen in the comments section. You could have missed him, sure, but he was silent during the last live too so you can't rest easy knowing he is watching. You're ninety-nine percent sure he's gonna DM you as soon as the live is over.

Which turns out to be accurate.

Just as you are done taking off your mask and stretching your sore muscles after the live, his message pops up on the screen.

[nerdycatboy]: you looked absolutely devouring, little cherry.

You don't know why those words make you flush. Just a little bit, you tell yourself.

[you]: thanks, pervert.

[nerdycatboy]: this pervert would like some pictures today too.

Oh god. You rub your temples.

[you]: definitely not nudes.

[nerdycatboy]: no? :(

[nerdycatboy]: I don't want nudes, ____. Let us build up to it ;) Just snap some of you sitting on your bed with those pouty red lips. And undo another button of your shirt.

It's humiliating how his orders make you curl your toes and feel giddy all over. Like an obedient pet, you do as you're told, a bit too enthusiastically. You take your time and make sure to appear sexy and get the best angles. Once satisfied, you send them to the anonymous and wait eagerly.

[nerdycatboy]: you're a sight for sore eyes.

[you]: Prof Luther's assignment getting to you?

[nerdycatboy]: Mhmm. These will definitely help me power through.

[you]: glad I could be of help 🙄

[nerdycatboy]: you sure are. until your next live, little cherry. don't miss me too much.

You snort.

[you]: yeah, whatever, sicko.

[nerdycatboy]: Also, I'll be sending you a gift. You'll love it. I already do.

Oh god. Worry begins to bloom as your brain tries to think of the gift. What will he be sending you now? What is he gonna make you do on your next live? More importantly, are you seriously looking forward to it?

Yes, you are. This tiny, fucked up part inside you is excited and all too eager to please and obey a random stranger on the internet.

[you]: Please don't.

You type instead.

[nerdycatboy]: You should receive it within the next three days. We'll talk then.

[nerdycatboy]: Bye, little cherry. Sweet dreams.

And he's offline, leaving you hanging once again.

VI.

True to his words and from your worst nightmares, a package arrives three days later. Once again, you're too scared to open it, just standing there in silence while chewing on your lower lip. Your gut is telling you that it won't be something good which means it can only be something humiliating and freaky.

Taking a deep, calming breath, you start to open the outer packaging to find a baby pink cardboard box. There's a note taped on top of the lid.

I can't wait to see you use this on camera, little cherry.

It's only a line but it has you sweating buckets as you take off the lid with shaky hands.

Your world comes to an absolute halt. For long moments, you just stand rooted to your spot with your mouth agape, convinced that this can't be real.

It is, unfortunately.

The asshole sent you a vibrator.

A fucking vibrator.

It's a huge Hitachi wand and just looking at it gives you shivers.

There is absolutely no way...

You're immediately reaching for your phone to fire a text to the asshole.

[you]: Wtf? Is this a joke?

You type and snap a picture of the device to send it to him.

It seems that he has been expecting you to text as he immediately replies.

[nerdycatboy]: It absolutely is not. I am very much looking forward to seeing you use it.

[you]: Fuck you, dickhead. I won't. There's a limit to everything.

[nerdycatboy]: There's no limit to the games we play, little cherry. In fact, this doesn't even begin to cover it. I have more plans for you.

You can't think of a way this could get any worse.

Holding your breath, you wait for him to elaborate.

[nerdycatboy]: Little cherry, do you want to hear my voice?

What?

Your breath catches in your lungs as you stare wide eyed at the text for a long time.

[you]: Yes but not at the cost of this.

[nerdycatboy]: Hmm, as stubborn as ever. What if I told you I'd reveal myself if you use the vibrator on yourself in live?

It's the second time your breath stutters, a small gasp emitting from you as you cup your open mouth.

Immediately, the gears in your brain start turning. You'd finally get to know who he is and end this misery. Maybe you can come up with some sort of dirt on him and blackmail him in return. The possibilities are endless, truly.

However, more than anything else you're excited to finally see who it is and no matter how much you keep telling yourself no, a teeny tiny part of you is eager to pleasure yourself on camera.

God, what have you become, _____.

With a defeated sigh, you start typing.

[you]: You drive a hard bargain.

[you]: Alright. You have a deal but make sure to keep your promise.

[nerdycatboy]: I vow on my degree, little cherry. You will know who I am within the next forty-eight hours.

The thought sends an exciting chill down your spine.

[nerdycatboy]: Exciting, isn't it?

You roll your eyes.

[you]: Shut up and tell me what I need to do in the live.

[nerdycatboy]: Ah, yes. Nothing that tough really, wear that white shirt you wore last time and play with yourself. According to my instructions, of course.

[you]: Your instructions?

[nerdycatboy]: Yes.

I'll be on call with you throughout the live, giving you instructions.

Your curl your toes and bite your lip, a new wave of excitement rising within you as heat pools in your belly. This is unlike anything you've ever done before and way out of your comfort zone but surprisingly, you're all too ready to comply.

Your hands are shaky as you type.

[you]: Okay.

[nerdycatboy]: You are so obedient, my cherry. It really is great fun to play with you.

I'll call you tomorrow just before your live, then.

You swallow.

[you]: Alright.

He doesn't reply anymore and you think he has gone offline. Just as you are about to log out too, another text comes.

[nerdycatboy]: And remember ______, you follow every instruction of mine. That means you follow how I tell you to please yourself and you come when I tell you to. If you do a single thing without my permission, you're absolutely done for.

Your earlier feelings are replaced with an overwhelming feeling of trepidation and doom in the blink of an eye.

Quick realization dawns on you that you are a mere puppet being controlled by an evil puppeteer and your fate is hanging by a thread.

VII.

The next day, you receive an incoming voice call from nerdycatboy just two minutes before your live.

You are ready with your full setup; you just need to start the live when it's time. The AirPods are also set in your ears for him to guide you through.

At first, your entire body freezes up as your phone starts ringing and anxiety envelopes you as and you fall into a spiral. But when you remember how your entire life is on the line, you pick up the phone just as it's about to stop ringing.

Inhaling deeply, you speak.

"Hello?"

There's a beat of silence on the other side.

And another.

And another.

"Start the live, _____. It's time."

The voice is deep, gravelly, familiar yet unfamiliar but you don't get to think long about it because your finger presses the start button and just like that you're on live.

You see yourself on the screen, dressed in a white shirt amidst the neon pink lighting in your room. Today, you've put on a wig— a baby pink wig with two high ponytails and wore a basic black face mask instead of your usual stylish mask that covers the upper half or more of your face. It's obvious you're trying to cover as much of yourself as possible to counter the part that you're going to show.

Oh, sweet lord, you're doing this.

Your greeting and interaction are a lot stiffer compared to other days as there is a sadistic man in your ears. You've also restricted the comment box because you feel it's necessary for today, hence they move slowly as you go through them.

The man in your ears has been quiet but you know he's there, waiting with you, for the view count to reach the minimum. As soon as it does, he speaks.

"Why don't we get started, _____. Introduce your toy to everyone."

You swallow as your panicky gaze lands on the intimidating piece of device right out of the camera frame. You are full of nerves and anxiety and to de-stress yourself just a bit, you take a sip of the wine that you've hidden in your coffee cup.

Then, with a deep breath, you start.

"So guys... I've already said that I'm not gonna be reading today. Instead, I'm trying something new and different. Very, very different." You force a smile at the camera as you pick up the device and grip it tightly in your hand.

"I'm in the mood for...playing tonight and guess what I'm playing with?" You inhale deeply before lifting the device to show it to the camera, moving it around in a teasing manner.

As expected, the people in the comments go insane.

"That's right. I'll be using this pretty toy on me." You give a seductive smile, despite wearing the mask, hoping your eyes coney the expression.

"Good job, little cherry. Let's not waste time now. Turn it on." The man commands quietly and once again you're body acts like it's on autopilot, obeying him immediately.

There's something about his voice, so dangerous, so attractive. Something so powerful you don't dare disobey.

It's insane, really.

As ordered, you plug in the device and turn it on, watching warily as it starts vibrating, your throat going dry.

"Go ahead. Open your legs and put it on your pussy. Don't hold it anywhere too long, though. Tease yourself."

Oh fuck.

The sensible, conscious part of you starts freezing up with fear while the other part lets you only think about how hot all of this is and how eager you are to comply.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you lean back on your seat and part your legs. Trembling hands reach between them to pull your pink lacy panties to one side, revealing yourself to the camera.

There, you've done it.

Something inside you goes numb as you feel the chilly air on your bare core and from then on, you start feeling like a complete puppet, only here to dance as her puppeteer pleases.

Now there's no going back.

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the comments fly by as the view count increases significantly.

Your puppeteer has been silent and you're somewhat grateful for his patience as you slowly adjust to your actions.

With another huge breath, you bring the thrumming device to your pussy and gingerly touch yourself while interacting with the camera, careful to follow the given instructions.

You're so wound up you don't feel any pleasure at the first touch on your pussy.

"You're so tense, _____. Don't make it look like someone is holding you at gunpoint. Relax your body, little cherry."

It proves to be harder said than done.

Still, you try to get yourself to relax and interact with the camera as you once again bring the device to your lips, playing with yourself.

"Good girl, _____. You look absolutely ravishing right now. Just keep following my voice and I promise you'll have the best orgasm you've ever had."

His tone is gentle yet ordering and oh so deep that you close your eyes and just let his words wash over you. The vibrator touches your clit right then making you jolt in your seat, a sigh of pleasure falling from your lips.

"Fuck, you're soaking, little cherry. You can try to act unwilling but deep down you are loving this. This is what you want, what you need, _____." His voice is gravelly as he breathes in your ears and you chew on your lower lip, knowing there is some truth to his words.

"Hold your pussy lips open, cherry. Run the toy up and down your folds."

You do as you are told, holding yourself open to the camera as the vibration goes through your soaking folds, making you whine in need.

"Turn the vibrations up. Just one bit."

The toy thrums stronger against your core and your legs start shaking just the tiniest bit. They have fallen wide open, resting against the armrest of your chair as you play with yourself.

"So obedient, little cherry. And so filthy. You're a real sight." He whispers. Your brain is starting to feel hazy as all your attention hones down to get yourself to release but as you expected, it doesn't prove to be so easy.

"Turn it off. Now."

Despite the serious urge to disobey him, you turn off the vibrator, teeth gritting, your pussy twitching in protest.

"We're you close, little cherry? Too bad, we can't have you cumming so easily. Turn it on again. Stroke yourself with it. Slowly."

And once again, you are eagerly following his words.

"Push it inside your pussy lips, little cherry. Just a bit. Not all the way, though."

Swallowing, you release a shaky breath and slip the vibrating head inside you, just a little bit— not even half of the head and the pleasure significantly increases as you let out a loud moan.

"Feels good doesn't it? Don't you dare slip it all the way in. There's no way I am letting a toy get inside you before myself."

His words make a shiver roll down your spine as you think of his cock and him whispering filthy words in your ear as he takes you. The little, sane part of your brain shakes her head at your deprived thoughts about a faceless man who has been blackmailing you.

"Turn it off."

Just like before, the man seems to know when your orgasm starts to rise. He tells you to shut off the device and much to your reluctance you do so, not knowing how long you can continue this without losing your mind.

"Turn it on to the highest setting this time. Hold it right on your clit. Don't you dare cum, cherry. I wanna see you writhe."

Oh fuck.

It's a really tough challenge, one you're sure you're gonna fail, yet you're helpless. You do as you're told, holding the throbbing device on your most sensitive part as you start to feel like you're gonna lose your mind. Your head falls back as your eyes roll to the back of your head, heavy pants falling from your lips as your legs shake.

"P-please, let me...come."

"You look so fucking hot right now cherry. I want to see you like this, begging for my cock. Tell me, do you want it?"

"Y-yes. Please..." You are so close you can taste the release.

"Turn it off, cherry. Right now."

With a cry of protest, you turn off the vibrator and let it fall from your hands as you slump back in your chair and catch your breath.

This is the sweetest torture.

The comments go wild, some wanting to see you come and some telling you to keep edging yourself. As you watch the number of tips only increase, your toes curl at the indecency of all of this.

"Let's continue, baby. Turn it on, play with yourself."

Hands shaky, you reach for the device again.

This game of cat and mouse continues until you're a crying and begging mess. He finally grants you your release and then rewards you with a short break before continuing. In the next couple of hours, you come three more times and your bones turn to jelly by the end of it. The live reaches its end when he finally hangs up the call and you're all too quick to wrap things up.

When your computer screen goes black and you can see your disheveled state in the reflection, your mind blanks out as you sit in complete silence, the happenings of the evening slowly replaying in your mind.

The money you've earned tonight is more than you could ever imagine and yet there is no happiness or relief bubbling in you. Rather, you feel empty and absolutely numb, the past hours feeling like a fever dream but the ache between your legs tell you they are very painfully real.

The screen of your phone lights up with two notifications, interrupting your trance.

nerdycatboy has sent you 1000$

[nerdycatboy]: a little gift for your hard work

You stare at the screen in silence until it goes black and then some more. It takes a while for you to realize tears are rolling down your cheeks. And then you are full-on sobbing as you hide your face in your hands and weep at the overwhelmingly miserable situation of yours.

When you finally get some sleep it is late into the night and tears are staining your cheeks and your pillowcase.

VIII.

Despite the rough night, you attend your classes the next day, somewhat glad that they are in the evening. You doze through all of it though, tired and way too distracted to pay attention to the lecture.

The tips of your fingers drum continuously against your desk as you wait for the class to be over. Your mind is spiraling; going haywire thinking about the fact that you will be meeting nerdycatboy today.

That is if he keeps his promise.

He hasn't contacted you since last night and given his stalker-ish tendencies, you're sure he knows your schedule. So why hasn't he messaged you yet?

Probably because he played you, silly girl.

You let out a loud sigh, frustrated, exhausted and enraged. How much longer will this match of cat and mouse go on? You have seriously started to consider shutting off your page temporarily because playing this stupid game with the anonymous asshole is proving to be way too much for you to bear.

The lecture finishes at some point while you're stuck inside your head and as you start packing your bags, you receive a text.

It's him.

I'll meet you at the library building in half an hour.

Your head immediately snaps up as your eyes scan the crowd leaving the classroom, a failed attempt to pinpoint him.

Okay, I'll be waiting.

You grab a coffee while waiting for him, your foot tapping the ground incessantly as you come to terms with the fact that you will be seeing him soon. Your misery will finally be over.

Hopefully.

What do you do when you see him? Curse at his face? Hit him? Or say it was nice playing stupid games with you now please leave me alone?

You've no idea. Your nerves leave you feeling jittery and tense as you see the clock hit seven in the evening. Half an hour is almost up so you start walking towards the library building, goosebumps arising on your skin as shivers roll down your spine.

You don't know if it's the chilly evening air or your nerves.

The library closes at six thirty so there is no one around the building now. The sun has long set and the sky is dark now, save for the little bits of orange and pink here and there.

It could be your brain projecting things but the atmosphere feels eerie and you wonder why he chose such an empty place. What does he plan to do with you? He wouldn't have chosen a quiet place unless he had some bad intentions, right?

Stop overthinking, _____. Your brain hisses.

The watch on your hand reads 7:10 now and there's no sign of anybody. Anxious, you shoot him a text, asking where he is and as expected you don't get a reply.

Tired of looking around the area with wide and restless eyes you decide to step inside the building. The ground floor is still unlocked as there are a few storage units here and you make yourself comfortable in the dimly lit hallway, leaning by a small window and focusing on the garden outside to distract yourself.

Seconds pass by with your feet tapping on the tile floor in matching beats. You grow more impatient, repeatedly checking the time and your message to see if it has been read.

Until you hear footsteps.

They echo down the hall as someone enters the building.

You hold your breath and watch the silhouette, your eyes taking a few seconds to adjust to the lighting.

And your entire world crashes and burns.

It's Jeon Wonwoo, walking towards you.

IX.

The first thing you tell yourself is that this is a coincidence, that he's here to get something from the supply closet. But the idea seems less and less plausible as he keeps walking towards you, his strides determined and only stops a few feet away from you.

You gulp, your entire body frozen as you gape at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to say something.

Judging from the upturned corners of his lips, your reaction seems to amuse him plenty. He stands there, his hands in his pockets as he watches you with a twinkle in his eyes and says the words you were still praying he wouldn't.

"Hello, little cherry."

X.

Despite expecting those words, the shock that overcomes your system is enough to make you lose your footing as you stumble on your feet, hands reaching for the wall behind you to support yourself.

Your breath comes out in the form of short pants as small beads of sweat gather on your forehead.

You knew, you knew, you knew.

You knew it!

The second you heard his voice yesterday, your subconscious told you it was Wonwoo. You, however, chose to be ignorant, dismissing the idea just as quickly as it appeared.

There was no way it could be Wonwoo. Except it is.

You should be glad it is him, no? After all the man you had imagined in the place of the faceless man was always Wonwoo. He had been the man of your fantasies for the longest time yet the feeling of betrayal and hurt is overwhelming.

Funny, considering that he didn't actually betray you. If anything, you have been betraying yourself.

Wonwoo stands in front of you, still as a statue, hands in his pockets, his stance calmer than a winter evening. His face is blank but there is a glint in his eyes, something between sadistic amusement and cocky satisfaction as he watches you crumble in front of him.

Where is the plain old nerdy Wonwoo?

"Wo-Wonwoo..." You don't know what you are trying to say as you lose your train of thought, dropping abruptly onto the ground. Accidentally, you scrape your index finger by the windowsill but your brain registers no pain due to the overwhelming shock as you simply sit in silence and stare as little drops of blood ooze out of the cut.

God, this is straight out of your worst nightmares.

Or, your darkest, filthiest fantasies?

Wonwoo, however, seems to spot the drops of red beading on your fingertips which you ignore. He takes slow but determined steps toward you, his footsteps echoing eerily through the empty hallway. When he is right in front of you, he stops before kneeling on one knee as one of his hands reaches for your injured finger.

He watches the little drops of blood ooze through the cut with rapt attention, his dark eyes somehow appearing darker in the dim lights. Then, surprising you, he takes your hand and brings the bleeding finger to his lips, his eyes intently focused on yours as he sucks the little cut. Your breath hitches, half of yourself wanting to yank your hand away from disgust and rage while the majority of you remain paralyzed as the hauntingly mesmerizing scene plays in front of you.

"Be careful now, can't have you getting hurt now, can we, little cherry?" He takes the finger out of his mouth and observes while the corners of his lips lift into an eerie smile that finally manages to bring some heat into your blood as you seize your hand out of his grip.

"Fuck you, asshole! You're fucking sick!" You hiss out the words you never thought you would say to Wonwoo.

Your attack brings an even bigger smile to his lips as he reaches out and gently tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ear. "Oh little cherry, tell me something I don't know."

You swallow and try to scoot away from him despite the limited space. "Did you have fun bullying me, you sicko?"

"Come on now, _____. Let's not twist the truth. I was not bullying you. We were just playing a game. Besides, I should be the one to ask that." He coos at you, his voice so innocent it makes your brain trip. Tilting his head to a side he keeps stroking your cheek with his fingertips and whispers, "Did you have fun being ordered around by me? By being humiliated? Hm, pretty girl?"

Your eyes widen and you swallow nervously, clenching your hands in tight fists to stop yourself from hitting him.

He chuckles. "It's alright. You don't have to answer that." He stands up, puts his hands in his pockets and stares down at you, tilting his head once more as if you're one fascinating creature. "Because we both know you loved it."

"I didn't!" Your protest is immediate as you muster every bit of strength to stand up and get into his face. "I didn't, you asshole. Don't kid yourself!"

Another pleased smile graces his lips. "Really? You didn't like it every time I called you a good girl? You didn't get more wet every time I told you I'd reward you with my cock?" He inches his face closer to yours, leaving just an inch of a gap.

"Do not kid yourself, _____." His voice drops a pitch as you feel the shift in him, goosebumps breaking on your skin. "You call me names but deep down you know you are a filthy slut and you loved being treated that way."

No. No, you didn't.

Or did you?

"Shut up!" You yell, pushing him with all your might as he stumbles a few steps back. There's a little pause in the air before his eyes meet yours as he pushes his glasses over the bridge of his nose.

"You want me to shut up because you know that it's the truth, _____-"

"Stop psychoanalyzing me!" You hiss, a fresh coat of tears blurring your vision. "Look at yourself, you twisted fucking jerk!"

You push past him as you try to stomp away but his hand catches your arm at the last second, tugging your body close to him. He leans down, his breath hovering on your ear as he whispers. "You better watch your mouth, cherry or I'll show you just how twisted I am. And you might not live to even see through it."

A bucket of ice-cold water seems to wash over you as you realize the gravity of the situation. For the first time since meeting Wonwoo, you're actually scared for your life, especially when you gaze into his pitch black pupils and the little flash of teeth peeking between his lips. Even though his grip on your arm is ironclad, you yank your arm away with all your strength and start running away from him, your heart thudding loudly in your ribcage.

You dash straight out of the library and you only stop until you're in front of a convenience store far enough. Falling on your knees, you catch your breath as you pant heavily, eyes scanning around to make sure he didn't follow you.

A new sense of fear and doom settles over you as you start to realize you might have walked into a situation that may not allow you to get out.

Alive, at least.

What's worse is that a part of you is actually excited.

XI.

Sorry guys, I cannot be doing today's and next week's livestream due to some personal problems. Please understand. Thank you!

You post the notice on your camming page and lean back in your chair, exhaling a loud sigh. The past night has been tiring with the constant struggle of being alert and a dreadful paranoia that won't leave you alone. Jeon the twisted Wonwoo keeps reappearing in your thoughts, haunting you whatever you do.

Within minutes after your post, you get a notification of an inbox and you don't have to see it to know it's the one and only, Jeon psycho Wonwoo.

[nerdycatboy]: Must have really scared you, eh?

You stare at it for a while, thinking of something snarky to reply but nothing comes up so you just decided to ignore it.

He doesn't give up.

[nerdycatboy]: Don't be scared, cherry. We've had so much fun until now. You know it deep down.

Why ignore the obvious?

You sigh, rubbing your temples.

You really need a break from all this. From him.

[you]: Can you leave me alone for one day? Please?

He doesn't text back for a while.

[nerdycatboy]: Since I'm feeling kind, sure. I won't bother you for the next twenty-four hours. We'll talk after you've regained some of your composure and hopefully your senses.

[nerdycatboy]: Because deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.

[nerdycatboy]: Sweet dreams, little cherry.

His message radiates a type of threat the longer you stare at it and your mind starts to go haywire. So you shut your laptop off and lie in your bed in silence, his words repeating over and over in your head like a mantra.

Deep down you know what you really want and you know that I'm the only one that can provide it.

Yes, yes you do know that. And you feel absolutely horrible for it. Who in their sane mind would allow an unhinged, deadly man to humiliate and low-key blackmail them online for some twisted form of entertainment?

You, for sure.

Your issues run deep, girl.

You mentally shake your head at the situation. If you're attracted to a man like that there has to be something wrong with you, no? But what is worse is deep down, you don't want to stop. You want to push and push and take it to the very end, extremely curious to see what is in store for you with Wonwoo.

Nothing dull, for sure.

And as if you needed more proof; you end up seeing the man even in your dreams, where he does unspeakably filthy things to you and you only beg for more.

XII.

Sunday afternoon, when you're done soaking in the tub for a good hour while enjoying a much needed glass of wine, you sit on your robe and do your skincare when your doorbell rings.

You're confused because you aren't expecting anyone. However, when you peer into the peephole your confusion flips into terror and panic as you see Wonwoo standing.

You must be seeing things, right?

No, you realize, once you double check.

What do you do now? Pretend you're not at home? Tell him to fuck off? Call the police?

You're being too dramatic, your subconscious rolls her eyes.

But your emotions are valid because you have been ignoring texts from the man. True to his words he gave you just twenty four hours before starting to send you messages again that you were too overwhelmed and cowardly to open. Now you're realizing what a horrible decision that was.

Shaking off the thoughts you straighten up and square your shoulders, taking a deep breath as you open the door.

Wonwoo stands there, looking unfairly good, dressed in a plain loose white tee and dark blue jeans, his black hair falling messily on his forehead, a few strands lying on top of his steel-framed glasses.

You briefly wonder if you have a glasses kink, if there is even such a thing.

He stands there looking so boyfriend material, it devastates you, making you wonder if this is an alternate universe where you're a 'normal' couple.

Because he definitely doesn't look like a sadistic, anti-social, slightly psycho nutjob right now. And it messes up your brain chemistry badly.

"Hi," your voice is akin to a mouse squeaking as you feel hot all over.

"Hello, _____." His voice is so sinfully deep.

Why is acting so normal? Like he's a classmate here to do an assignment with you?

"I... wasn't expecting you..." You stumble over your words.

"You weren't replying to my messages so I thought I'd pay you a visit. Make sure you're okay, you know? Our last meeting really shook you up."

You really can't tell if he's teasing you or being genuine but the delusional part of you takes it as a genuine effort.

"May I come in?"

"Of course!" You blink, moving to make way for him. He walks past you, leaving a trail of his cologne wafting in the air that creates a sudden urge within you to grab onto him and sniff him like a dog.

Yeah, you have serious issues.

You follow him awkwardly as he looks around your small space.

"Would you like something to drink? Tea, coffee...water?" Somehow offering him wine right now doesn't feel appropriate.

"Tea, please. Black."

Why is he being so...nice? So normal? Is this the climax of his games? Murdering you in your own home after sweet talking you? After making you drop your guards? You shake your head at the possibility and watch the kettle as it heats the water, waiting for him to initiate a conversation which he doesn't.

This is suffocating.

When you offer him the steaming mug he murmurs a thanks and then asks, "Where's your setup? I'd like to see it."

Uh oh.

"Uhm," you fiddle with your fingers, suddenly nervous. "It's in my bedroom."

"Mind giving me a tour?" His face doesn't give away any malicious intent but then again, he has always been great at keeping a blank face. If anything, he genuinely sounds curious.

Sighing, you guide him to your bedroom. The room is decent size with your bed on one side and your setup on the other. It's nothing fancy, just your pc and your huge, comfortable chair.

"When I film I put up a screen behind me and turn on some lights, you know," you mumble trying to fill the void. He looks around carefully before casually taking a seat on your bed and sipping on his tea.

"It's pretty. Like you, little cherry." His eyes connect with yours and your skin breaks out in goosebumps.

He's so... attractive. Everything about him. His looks, his voice, his attitude, his low-key psychotic persona.

"Take a seat, I won't bite." He says, his signature smirk finally appearing as you shudder before tentatively sitting next to him on your bed, still keeping a few inches of space.

"How did you find my address?" You ask softly.

He shrugs, drinking his tea, "Did some snooping around."

Not surprising. Not unlikely of him either.

"Have you thought about what I said, little cherry? About what you really want?" He asks, his voice a deep timbre as he sets down the mug on your bedside table.

Oh boy, we're not beating around the bush.

"Are you seriously here to talk about that?"

"Answer my question." The way he says those words make you weak in the knees.

"Yes," you swallow, not breaking eye contact with him. A pleased smile graces his soft pink lips and you're hit with the sudden temptation of kissing them.

"And what is your conclusion?" He asks, leaning closer to you, his scent making your brain hazy. One of his fingers traces over your cheekbone and then past your jaw to your neck.

It's electrifying.

''W-what if I want nothing to do with you?" You whisper. He laughs quietly before whispering in your ear, "That is not an option because we both know that's the last thing you want, little girl."

Little girl. Your insides swoon.

His face is now inches apart from yours, his fingers caressing your cheek oh so softly as he watches you with those dark, seductive eyes of his.

It doesn't take a second for you to make your decision.

"Will...will you kiss me, Wonwoo?" You croak.

He arches a surprised brow before smiling in great pleasure as he leans back to watch you. "You are always a surprise, _____. Only if you say please."

"Please."

"Good girl," he praises and that's almost enough to make you come. He wastes no time, cupping both of your cheeks and pressing his lips to yours. Fireworks go off in your head. Your hands move to clutch his shoulders and a soft needy moan escapes your lips when you feel how solid they are.

Holy mother of gods, you need to get dicked down by him.

Immediately.

Wonwoo's tongue explores every bit of your mouth as his hands grab your jaw and neck tighter, his body shuffling close to deepen the kiss. You become a puppet and let him play with you as you melt in his arms, letting him lead however he wants to.

When you two break apart you're panting heavily. Wonwoo watches you with glinting eyes, his pink lips slightly swollen like yours as his thumb traces over your lips. You subconsciously open them and he pushes his thumb in, making you suck on his digit.

You do so eagerly, not breaking eye contact with him. Heat pools in your belly as his nostrils flare and he grunts. "You're a wicked little minx you know that, little cherry?"

I can be whatever you need, you inwardly purr as you give him a particular hard suck before he takes it back.

"You want my cock? Is that what you're trying to say?" He questions, standing up and tilting your chin to meet his gaze.

You can only nod, breathless with anticipation.

"I need words, ______. You're not mute." His voice is commanding, and scolding, which makes you even wetter.

"Please fuck me, Wonwoo."

He grins. An evil, victorious grin.

"Good girl. Stand up." You do so and he tugs the belt on your robe, making it fall open in a fluid motion. Your hands move to cover yourself but he glares at you in warning, making you stop halfway.

"Don't be shy now." He whispers, letting the material fall off your shoulders, leaving you completely naked. "I've seen this pussy on camera already, no?"

You swallow as his fingers trace between your legs and then easily slips one finger in due to your wetness. You sigh in pleasure while he lets out a satisfied hum.

"Tell me," he cups your pussy, thumb stroking your clit as you shudder. "How many men have touched this before me?"

You shake your head. "N-no one."

He tilts his head, a wry smile on his face. "Are you telling me I'm your first, baby?"

You nod, slightly shaking.

"Fuck, you just made me ten times harder. I'm gonna have much more fun defiling you now."

You gulp, stuck in a trance as you let him guide you back to bed with a hard push. You land on your back and watch Wonwoo take his tee off and boy, is that a sight. Your thighs automatically press together when his sculpted body comes into view and the sight of his broad shoulders makes you clutch the bedsheets in a tight fist.

However, something catches your eye; a patch of scarred skin right on his left abdomen, spreading from the front to his back and if you had to guess you'd say it is a burn mark. You don't get to think about it long because he's distracting you with a kiss.

"Like what you see?" He's cocky.

You nod, eyes settling on the bulge in his jeans, waiting for him to take it off so that you can see the object of your desires.

Alas, he has other plans for you.

"Open your legs, little cherry."

They fall apart on command as Wonwoo gets comfort between them, one of his hands trailing over your breasts and your belly while the other softly strokes your sopping wet core. It's embarrassing how easily he can slip two fingers deep inside you. "So fucking wet, you dirty whore." He muses with a smirk.

God, you love his voice.

Your moans rise in pitch as his fingers develop a rhythm, thrusting in and out of you in precise, perfect movements. Your release is so close you can taste it.

Automatically, your hips rise off the bed as your body tilts itself upward for a little stimulation on your clit. Wonwoo takes notice of it and laughs, "Aw, little whore is gonna come so soon? You want me to do this?"

The brush of the pad of his finger is enough to set you off as you scream and let your release wash over you. Your toes curl as you fist the sheets hard enough to almost rip them, riding out your high while he continues to plunge his digits in and out of you.

Once you finally get to catch your breath, he pulls them out and pops the fingers in his mouth, making a show of licking them.

You shudder, your body preparing for another round as moisture gathers between your legs once again.

"Fucking delicious." He grins, making you heat up all over. There is nowhere to hide, your whole body on display for him and he doesn't mask his appreciation as he drinks up every naked inch of you with a devouring gaze.

"Please, f-fuck me," you're not shy about begging as the need for his cock worsens.

"Oh I will," he promises, taking off his glasses and setting them down on your bedside table. Without much thinking your fingers trail over his chiseled abdomen and then down, over the tent of his pants as you fiddle with the button, trying to open it. Wonwoo amuses you for a while before batting your hand away, glaring at you. "Did I give you permission to touch me?"

You bite your lip and shake your head no.

"That's right." His voice is calm as he watches you for a few beats, hungry eyes trained on your lips before his right hand suddenly comes to wrap around your throat.

Your breath stutters as you watch him, wide eyed.

"Touch me again without permission and you won't be coming anytime soon." He threatens, tightening the grip on your throat as your airflow gradually decreases, making you feel fuzzy. You should be scared for your life, but you aren't, instead, the action only makes you wetter as you rub your thighs and mewl and beg with your eyes to ease the ache.

He listens.

Letting you go, he gets off the bed and takes off his pants and boxers, while your brain and lungs catch up due to the lack of oxygen. You blink and gulp when you see how blessed he is in length and girth, your breathing irregular.

Smirking at your reaction, he gets back on the bed and traps you beneath him, amusement and satisfaction dancing in his eyes. "I don't think you'll need any more prepping," he muses, trailing his fingers to your pussy and dipping one in the collect your arousal. You vehemently shake your head yes.

He laughs. "Hungry for cock, slut?"

"Y-yes." You whisper, breathless, wide eyed, needy.

Wonwoo leans down to nip on your jaw and your neck as he aligns himself with your entrance. Then, a thought comes to you.

"We... don't have a condom..."

"I'm clean, little cherry. Besides, there's no way I'd not take this virgin cunt bare." His words are vile and his smile is diabolical, sending shivers down your spine. It's alarming how attractive you find his insanity.

"Hold on to me. Bite my shoulder if it hurts too much." That's all the warning you get and not enough time to process as he shoves his cock inside you in one go. A loud wail erupts from your throat as tears burn your eyes, your nails digging into Wonwoo's biceps as you cling to him for dear life.

"So fucking tight." His voice is hoarse as he remains still for a few seconds, letting you catch your breath. The pain of the stretch doesn't ease up but the man on top of you isn't too bothered. He starts thrusting, slow, small thrusts at first as you rest your head in the crook of his neck and hold him tight, breathing harshly.

Soon, his pace increases, hitting that perfect spot inside you that makes you see stars and your toes curl. Feeling you tighten around him, he chuckles, "You like that? You like it when I hit here?" He punctuates by thrusting you right there once again and you scream.

"Yes! Harder!"

He scoffs. "Such a slut. How did you survive so long without a dick shoved up inside you, huh?" He leans back, prying your body off of him and grabs both your cheeks in one hand, puckering your lips. "Want it harder? Say please."

"P-please," you manage to utter despite his strong grip on your jaw. Your cheeks ache from how hard he grabs you but you're once again surprised by how much the pain turns you on.

"Open your mouth," he commands, intense eyes trained on you, his pace never faltering. You are not going to last very long, you realize.

You follow his command and open your mouth as he eases his grip and stunning you, he spits right into your mouth.

"Swallow it, little whore." He orders, making your pussy clench deliciously. You once again do as you're told.

"You loved that, didn't you?" He scoffs. "You are a real treat, little cherry. You're fucking perfect." His hands wrap around your throat, almost as leverage as his pace becomes wild, driving in and out of you so fast, the bed starts shaking.

"I'm..gonna come." You whisper. The pressure building inside you is about to burst and you can't hold it any longer. Not resuming his pace or bothering to acknowledge your words, Wonwoo keeps on going while slithering a hand down to your core, where he flicks your clit before roughly pinching it.

You go off like a rocket.

The pleasure is mind-numbing, making you arch off the bed with a wail. It's like a tsunami of pleasure has crashed onto you and it only amplifies when you feel him swell inside you before releasing himself. Your pussy is coated with warm bursts of his cum as your body continues to shake, still riding the wave of your high.

You feel him pull out, his cum trickling out of your spent hole as you still float back down to earth and before you can let out a sigh of relief that it is over, he's spreading your legs as wide as they can go, getting you in a spread eagle position.

"Keep your legs like that, slut." He commands, leaning down to capture your lips in a bruising kiss. It's all teeth and tongue and fierce that once again lights up the fire in your core.

What has this man done to you?

You're insatiable, riding a never ending lust filled high as you watch the insanely hot man on top of you. His hair is messier now and there's a light sheen of sweat on his body that only adds to the appeal.

You don't know if you want to devour him or be devoured by him.

"I'm not done with you yet." He murmurs, watching you with dark eyes as he strokes his cock. "Look at your blood on my cock, little cherry. Isn't that a sight?" He grins, flashing his teeth.

Goosebumps rake down your spine.

"I always loved blood but having you bleed on my cock? This is just incomparable, sweetheart." He pushes a couple of his fingers coated in your blood and his cum and shoves them into your mouth. You're all too eager to lick them clean without a second of delay.

Your tongue dances on his digits, licking them clean and tasting the metallic, bitter flavor before he pops them off your lips. Then, once again leaving you flabbergasted, he slaps you on the right cheek. It doesn't hurt bad but it stings and you're ashamed of how much you liked it.

The evil smile is back on his face. "You like that?" He smacks your other cheek and you nod eagerly. At this point you realize, there's nothing this man can do to you that you wouldn't like.

"You're an absolute fucking piece, little cherry. I'm so glad I snatched you up. Couldn't let any other man have you, could I?"

He kisses your jaw before moving towards your neck, sniffing as he goes. "You smell so addictive. So... mine." He muses as he sucks on the tender spot on your neck, making you sigh in pleasure.

"Please, Wonwoo..." You are desperate and your legs hurt from staying wide open. The plea reaches his ears as he sits back and puts his fingers in his mouth, wetting them before shoving them inside your sore yet throbbing pussy. He plunges them in and out for a while, pushing his cum back inside you and watching with a smirk how your mouth falls open in pleasure.

And then he thrusts himself in. You know this time it is gonna be quick with his extra fast movements as he holds your calves for leverage and pounds in and out of you restlessly. You're on the brink of losing your sanity with how good he feels, unceremonious moans and gasps continuously leaving your mouth.

Suddenly a smack graces you on the cheek, making your body jerk and pussy tighten. It takes a while to realize Wonwoo has slapped you again and once you do so, you eagerly wait for another. Unlike last time, your cheek heats up from the force and you can actually feel the flesh burn but gosh, do you not love it any less.

"Dirty fucking slut. Letting me treat you however I want. You love it, no? You love the pain?" He hisses, brows furrowed as his pace starts to falter. You nod eagerly moving your hips against his, desperately chasing your end.

Two punctuated thrusts on your g-spot and you come without any warning. Once again, you feel like you're launched into outer space as your entire body jerks, leaving you gasping for air. Wonwoo releases himself all over your stomach and tits this time, soft groans of pleasure falling from his lips.

It's addictive.

Everything about this man is addictive.

He is the sweetest form of darkness, here to drag you down to hell with him. And you have no complaints.

That is your last coherent thought before you fall into a peaceful slumber.

XIII.

The next day, Wonwoo sits next to you in class, acting like his usual self, like he didn't blow your back out last night. He stays mostly quiet and keeps to himself, focusing on the lecture and taking notes. However, underneath the desk, his hand holds your thigh in a possessive grip, his fingers dancing over your sensitive flesh.

It is safe to say you don't get to focus much on the lesson.

After the class, you and Wonwoo grab a cool drink and sit on one of the benches laid throughout the campus field.

You are still processing the events of last night and seeing how he hasn't mentioned it even once, you wonder if it was all your imagination.

No, it was all too real to be untrue.

As you sit next to him and chew on your straw, you wonder how you should approach the subject. Wonwoo, who has been silently enjoying his drink suddenly speaks, just as you get your thoughts together. It, however, is the last thing you expected him to say.

"Did I ever tell you about how I murdered a man?"

Your body turns into a block of ice as you whip your head towards Wonwoo, who sits with his elbows resting on his knees, an impassive look on his face. Silently, you blink a few times, waiting, just to make sure you didn't hear him wrong.

He is kidding.

Right?

He tilts his head to face you, a wry chuckle escaping his lips as he shakes his head at your expression. "Come on now, little cherry, don't look so shocked."

You cough and look away, a lame attempt to mask your expression. "I don't want to know anything I should not know." You murmur, looking down at the ground. "Besides, you're joking, right?"

"No, I'm not." He laughs a little, before exhaling loudly. "I also doubt you'd tattle on me. Who would fuck you so good like last night if I went to jail?"

His words make you squirm in your seat.

"Besides, it's a really interesting story. One I've never told anyone before."

Should you feel honored?

Wonwoo seems to take your silence as a yes because he starts narrating. "Once upon a time, there was a man. An alcoholic, pathetic excuse of a man who did terrible things to a woman, my mother. I was very young when it started. He'd beat the shit out of her for every little reason. It would only get worse when he got drunk, which was more often than not. Sometimes he'd lock her up in the basement and keep her naked and unfed. One time, when I was about ten years old, he broke every finger on her right hand just because the dinner wasn't served on time."

You have stopped breathing by now, as you sit in absolute silence, your limbs immobile as if you are paralyzed. You have a very good idea of where this story is going and how it might end. That should make you want to get up and leave but you just can't bring yourself to, as you sit mute and take occasional tentative peeks at the man next to you.

"That was the first time I stood up to him. My mother had passed out from the pain and I yelled at him and pushed him which made him take it out on me too. He hadn't hit me ever before. But that night, he kept on going till the dawn, as if making up for all the times he didn't."

He falls silent for a few moments and you take a chance to peek at him. As always, it's impossible to read him, his face an emotionless canvas and his eyes emptier than a desert, lost somewhere in his dark memories. You can't help but wonder if he feels any pain or remorse as he recalls his traumatic past. If he does, how can he mask it so well?

"Six months after that, my mother fell off the roof of our building. The police concluded it as suicide because they found out she was drunk. But she wasn't."

"The night before, as always, the pathetic loser came home drunk and smashed things around for a while. There was a ruby necklace that my grandmother gave to my mother when she got married. That night, he was asking for it because he needed immediate cash and my mother wouldn't give it. She probably had enough because that was the only night she stood up against him and she protested hard. I remember her smashing a bottle on his head. Of course, he wouldn't let that slide but something was different about him that night. He was more despairing, more evil. He slapped her around a few times before choking her until she passed out. I can still hear his words in my head.

I'll get rid of you tonight bitch.

I'll get rid of you for good."

He then took out a bunch of booze and ordered her to drink them, saying that if she resisted, I'd get the beatings. She obeyed him and I only watched, as I always did and he kept forcing her to drink till she couldn't utter a coherent word or couldn't even remain seated. Once she passed out from all the booze he came to me and patted my head. With the evilest of smiles, he said,

"Go to your room. You don't need to learn everything so early."

"Then he locked me in his bedroom and didn't let me go until the morning. By then the police had come and removed her body. Those imbeciles decided it was suicide and ended the investigation just like that.

I could have told them that it was a murder but I didn't. My mother's death stunned me so much that I couldn't speak for the next few months and the asshole used it to his advantage. He acted like the best father and husband in front of the police but then came and took out all his anger and frustration on me."

He finally pauses to take a look at you and your face must have been an open book because he chuckles, "Why do you look so pale already? I haven't even gotten to the best part yet."

You want to tell him that you look pale not because of the story but because you feel sad for the fucked up man sitting next to you and his fucked up childhood. Even though he has yet to reveal how his father died you have already convinced yourself that he deserved it.

"A year went by like that." Wonwoo continues. "My mother was gone and I was the new punching bag for the asshole. He'd beat me up almost every day but he wasn't that dumb. He would never hit me in the face because I went to school and people could ask questions. I endured it all, in fact, I might have even started to crave it. I started to think I deserved it and so I took it...until one afternoon. I had just gotten home from school. He was sitting in the living room, drinking and watching TV. He seemed to be in an okay mood so I showed him my report card and asked him to sign it so that I could submit it the next day. He was quiet for a while until he saw my marks in English.

He took a bottle of booze and poured it all over my report card, saying a loser like me is better off without one. Something snapped inside of me and I yelled at him. So he broke that bottle on my head and stuffed that wet report card into my mouth and started beating me up.

After he was done he told me to get him a glass of water and go out to buy more beer for him. There was a nearby store that knew us and let me purchase alcohol. At that moment I made a split-second decision. I went to the kitchen, grabbed some rat poison and mixed it in his water before giving it to him. When he passed out I went back into the kitchen and pulled out the gas pipe and turned the knob open, letting it leak all over. I then lit a match and watched as the entire house caught on fire in seconds. I got burned too, as you can tell from the scars you saw last night. I ran out and sat on the other side of the road, just watching the fire spread. The thought of him burning alive in there brought me so much pleasure that I forgot my own pain.

It was right after noon and we lived in a relatively deserted area so it took a while for people to find out and call the police. They never suspected me because why would a twelve year old set his house on fire? The neighbors also testified that the asshole was an alcoholic so the police concluded it as another accident."

He concludes with a loud exhale. Turning his head to face you, he smirks wryly, "And that's how I successfully got away with my first murder."

You are left with a loss of words so you just give him a shaky nod and stare down at your legs, trying to process everything.

A few beats of silence seem to pass before Wonwoo reaches for your chin and uses it to tilt your face up. He smirks, "Scared of me now, aren't you?"

You sigh, gently removing your chin from his grip. "No, Wonwoo, I'm not. You did what you had to survive. It's admirable how you held on for so long."

For the first time, you see an emotion vividly on his face; shock. His eyes widen and his lips part to a little 'o' as he gapes at you, stunned. His reaction evokes some sort of longing within yourself as you reach for his hand and hold it between yours. "I am not scared of you because there is nothing to be. You were a little boy and you had gone through so much. It's fucked up but you did it to survive and you've come so far-"

"I don't want your pity and I don't want you to psychoanalyze me." He hisses, cutting you off as he yanks his hand away from your grip. You can see the fierce anger in his gaze so you shake your head.

"I am not pitying you and neither am I psychoanalyzing you. Trust me, I am in no position to do that. Especially because I believe that that man was an absolute piece of garbage and he deserved what you have done to him, if not worse. I would have done the same, Wonwoo, long ago. You held on for so long. That makes you a survivor, not a bad guy."

Your words seem to sink into him as he remains quiet, watching you with careful yet wondrous eyes. You sigh, realizing that he probably isn't believing you so you decide to give him, and yourself, some space.

Just as you stand up, he yanks you down by your hand, making you fall awkwardly onto his lap. Then, before your brain can catch up, he kisses you, rough and fast.

His lips smash with yours as he holds a strong grip on your neck, angling your face to his advantage. His tongue explores every inch of your mouth, colliding with yours as your body goes lax and you give into him. It's like an aphrodisiac— his kiss, his touch, that makes you lose your guard as you fall deeper and deeper into an abyss.

When he pulls back, you are both panting heavily for air. "Do you realize what you just said?" He grunts, those fox-like eyes staring at you making your toes curl and your insides swirl. In a daze, you hum, "Hmm?"

"You'd make a great accomplice for a murder, no?" He chuckles, his thumb tracing your swollen bottom lip while you keep staring at his lips. All coherent thoughts and senses have left your body long ago as you find yourself swimming in the sweetest poison that is Wonwoo.

"More." You breathe.

He smirks, that evil, confident smirk of his that makes your panties wet. Once again, he starts moving before you can process anything, dragging you behind him and straight to one of the storage rooms in a nearby building. You follow him blindly and as soon as the door is locked, he pins you against the wall and between himself, effectively trapping you. Yet, there is nowhere you want to escape to.

"You are an enigma, you know that, little cherry?" He whispers, trailing kisses down your jaw as his hands work on unbuttoning your top. He quickly takes it off along with your bra before taking a step back and yanking your skirt down. The zipper on the waist lets out a groan of protest that falls onto your deaf ears as you remain too busy ogling the ungodly hot man in front of you.

"Take me out."

Your body is on autopilot as you immediately undo his belt and pull down the zipper.

"Put your hands over my shoulders and hold tight. Wrap your legs around me." He commands as one of his hands holds you below your thigh while the other positions himself on your entrance.

And before you can blink, he's inside you. The initial stretch of the intrusion makes you jolt and let out a loud gasp of pain but it's quick to dull. One of his hands covers your mouth, his dark eyes indicating you to remain silent while he starts to move in and out of you.

Oh boy, is it hard to remain silent.

Especially, when you can feel every delicious inch of him, moving in and out of you ruthlessly, making your body shake from the onslaught of pleasure. Your grip on his shoulders tightens as little squeaks escape from your lips and your legs wrap themselves around his body tighter when you start to taste your release.

"Gosh, you're such a slut, letting me fuck you against a wall, in a store room." Wonwoo grits, a twisted smirk on his lips as his gaze roams over your face leisurely. "What if someone comes in right now, huh? What if they see you bouncing your pretty ass on my cock?"

"Mmph," you try to moan, the image sending short circuits to your brain. Wonwoo chuckles, loving your reaction. "You'd like that, won't you? You're one filthy little slut, my cherry." He grins after giving you a particular hard thrust, that makes your toes curl.

"P-please," you pant, breathless trying to grind your clit against his pelvis. One touch on your clit and you're gonna come. "Please, touch me."

The man only smiles, a cruel, mocking smile as he grabs your wrists in one hand and pins them hard on the wall behind you before thrusting once, twice, so hard that your back starts aching. Though you can't bring yourself to complain because the next moment his release is filling you up, making you moan unceremoniously.

When you think he's now gonna help you get off, the man only releases you and starts fixing himself up leaving you panting against the wall awkwardly, with the worst ache between your legs.

"W-what about me?" You croak.

"Sluts don't get to come so easily." Wonwoo smirks, throwing a look your way before walking out of the storeroom. You slide down the wall, absolutely livid, the urge to punch something growing very intense.

Something like his face.

That goddamn infuriating man!

Maybe you should just get yourself off.

"And don't think about touching yourself without me. I'll know if you do and trust me, you don't wanna make me mad." His head pops back in as he opens the door to warn you before disappearing once again.

"Fuck!" You're screaming now. "Fuck you, Jeon Wonwoo!"

XIV.

Over time, you start to grow close to Wonwoo. Definitely closer than you'd expect to be with a person like him. It also doesn't help that you have a silly little crush on him and every little thing he does makes your heart flutter. Like the way he'd always put the helmet on you carefully before riding on his bike, brush your hair away from your face with soft fingers, and pull you closer to his body when you walk down a busy sidewalk.

Jeon Wonwoo was in no way boyfriend material but his little gestures, which he probably did thoughtlessly made you think he was the perfect man for you.

While things were going breezy with Wonwoo, a new problem seems to have appeared. Jacob Lee, a classmate of yours has been on your tail nonstop for the past few days, acting all friendly and touchy with you when in reality you've never spoken to him before, only seen him around the campus.

And speaking of the devil, he appears, just as you are finishing up your study session in the library one afternoon.

"_____!" His voice makes you sigh exasperatedly. "Hey! I was looking for you!"

You give him a fake smile and instead focus on packing your stuff, knowing Wonwoo will be here soon. He has asked you to stay overnight at his place for a class project but you doubt how much you'll be working on that project.

The thought of his hands all over you makes you embarrassingly excited.

"I sent you a friend request last night, didn't you see?"

Yes, and I'm not interested. You give me the creeps.

Which was the truth. You have heard a few rumors about Jacob, not good things for sure and the way he approaches you, invading your personal space like a bulldozer certainly makes you wary of him.

"Ah really? I'm not quite active these days. Projects and all, you know?" You try to avoid eye contact with him as he takes the seat right next to you, leaning much too close for your liking. "And...I don't really accept requests unless they're my close friends."

"Heyyy," he nudges your arm, a huge grin on his face. "How can we become close friends unless you accept my request?"

Oh god.

You sigh, internally rolling your eyes as you stand up and sling your bag over your shoulder. "You know, I'm in a hurry, actually. Wonwoo is waiting for me-"

"Is he your boyfriend?"

"What?" You blink, albeit stunned.

"Are you dating Wonwoo?" He asks, his tone sharp, as he stands up and steps closer to you, brows knotted in a frown.

Seriously, what is up with this guy?

"Why do you ask?" You question instead.

He rolls his eyes. Instead of answering you, he speaks, "He's a boring dude. If you really need a man you should let me—"

"Yes, she's dating me." Wonwoo interrupts all of a sudden. You spin around to find him standing behind you, a very annoyed look on his face as he glowers at Jacob. If looks could kill he'd be dead by now.

His hand wraps around your waist, tugging you next to his body and you can't help but swoon a little as you melt in his embrace. You rest your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent and sigh giddily.

The comfort and safety his arms provide are astounding.

"It doesn't really matter if you say I'm boring because she seems to find me interesting enough," Wonwoo says, his tone challenging, dark eyes focused on Jacob whose face now appears grim.

"Since we have established that she's mine," he emphasizes his words by tugging you even closer, "You should keep your hands to yourself and mind your business, hmm? Being nosy can get you hurt, you know."

Jacob's lips are pressed into a thin line as he glares at Wonwoo who ignores him and turns around, tugging you with him as you both walk out of the library.

As soon as you are outside, you step out of his arms and raise a brow at the man. "What was that?"

"What was what?"

"That? You were like...staking your claim or something."

"I was. You're mine." He says simply.

Heat blooms throughout your face. Butterflies run wild in your stomach.

Damn.

"Whatever," you try to play it cool by rolling your eyes and pushing past him. Wonwoo, however, grabs your wrist and pulls you into his arms and whispers in your ear.

"You don't seem to agree, little cherry. Let's go home so that I can show just how much you are mine." His knuckles trail over your jaw, then down your neck before grabbing it, a predatory glint in his eyes.

You can't stop the satisfied grin from appearing on your face as you scream on the inside.

XV.

"Hey, I'm really sorry about the last day." A voice says from behind you and you turn around to find Jacob standing rather awkwardly.

You are going through your notes in the library when you are interrupted.

Raising a brow of confusion, you blink at him.

Jacob scratches his head. "Uh...I overstepped that day, you know. You're obviously a couple and I was trying to overstep my boundaries. I'm really sorry about that."

Well, that's a development.

"It's alright." You give him a small smile. "And thank you for apologizing."

"It's all good if you've accepted my apology." He smiles. "Also, I was hoping you could do me a favor?"

"Sure?" You say, not quite sure.

"You see, I'm having a bit of a problem with the latest assignment. Could you help me with that, please? Just take a look at my draft?" He chuckles nervously, as if ashamed. "After all, the professor did say that you had the best research paper among all of us."

Ah.

"Yeah, sure I can help you with that."

"Great! Thanks a lot, ____. Could you perhaps come with me to my car? My notes are in there. Just take a quick look and I'll let you be on your way."

You nod as you pack your belongings and follow him to the parking lot behind the library. Once you two are in front of your car, Jacob holds the door open for you, motioning you to get inside. You raise a confused brow at him.

There is a shift in him as he suddenly produces a knife from his pocket and holds it against your stomach. He grits in your ear, "Now be a good girl and get in the car, ______. Try to do anything to attract any attention and ill fucking gut you."

"Jacob, please-''

"Get in the fucking car, _____. And lock the door once you are inside."

Shaking, you do as you are told and watch him get inside the driver's seat.

"Why are you doing this?" You whisper.

"Why do you think, cherry?" He spits. His words dump a bucket of ice cold water all over you as you come to the realization.

He knows. He fucking knows. He knows your secret.

"That's right, _____." The smirk on his face is cruel. "I randomly came across your channel one night. Of course, I didn't know it was you at first. But after a little bit of observing and putting things together, it wasn't hard to figure you out. And my suspicions were fully confirmed when your nerd of a boyfriend found your identity and started blackmailing you."

Oh my god.

A small, devastated gasp leaves your lips, making Jacob laugh. "Yeah. I saw you two that evening. I know everything, little cherry. All your dirty little secrets. But what I hate is that you let him have you, calling that dumb guy your boyfriend and whatnot, but you won't give me a chance? That's not fair, baby."

"You fucking stalker! You son of a-"

"Shut up!" He booms, holding the knife right in front of your eye. "You're going to shut the fuck up and let me have all the fun tonight, hmm? You're a slut, _____. Reading filthy things, showing yourself off on the internet and now you're acting like a prude in front of me? I can't tolerate that baby, I need a taste of you."

Oh god. You're going to throw up.

In a moment's decision, you try to attack him, reaching for his face and poking him in the eye while scratching his cheek. A struggle ensues while you try to writhe and kick out of his grasp but he's stronger, effectively holding you.

"Just go to sleep, little bitch. I'll take good care of you." He snickers, making your heart drop.

Oh no no no...

He smacks you in the back of the head twice with the butt of his knife, making your vision go blurry and your head spin. Your last thought is that you are doomed now.

XVI.

The back of your head is throbbing when you wake up. It takes a good few moments to get your brain and eyes to function and when you are somewhat coherent, you realize your wrists are tied together behind you, as you remain in a half laid position. Your whole body feels sore and taut as if you've been thrown around roughly.

"Finally, you're awake baby." The dreadful voice speaks. You tilt your head, despite the pain, to look at Jacob who is looming over you, smiling, a sick kind of excitement dancing in his eyes.

Your throat which was already parched, goes even drier.

"You're fucking sick." You croak, a jolt of pain going through your ribs as you try to move your body.

A slap lands on your cheek from nowhere, forcing you to fall on your side as you whine in pain.

"I told you to shut the fuck up!" He's yelling. "Do you know how hard it was to carry your body all the way here? I had to put you in the trunk, for fucks sake!" He complains, making you roll your eyes. "It would all have been fine if you'd just shut up and complied with me!"

He then grabs you by your hair, forcing you to turn your head and look at him. "I had to wait for the last hour for you to gain consciousness, baby. Despite my thoughts, I just couldn't get hard when you were lying still."

He says those words with a mock pout as if that's the most unfortunate thing in the world and your blood boils. "Fuck you, dickhead. I doubt your thing gets hard at all."

That earns you another slap, and another, followed by a lot of screaming and cursing from him.

You tune them out, trying to conjure a way out of this hell. The first person you think of is Wonwoo and your heart starts to ache. His classes should be done by now. Is he looking for you? Is he worried? Given his possessiveness, he definitely should be looking for you by now.

You only wish you had your phone somewhere nearby.

You look around the place, trying to spot anything that may distract this sicko and aid you with your escape. Unfortunately, this feels like an abandoned building and the only thing lying around are pieces of wood, splinters and a few metal rods. Which would serve as a good weapon, only if your hands were untied.

An idea forms in your head.

"I need to pee." You grunt, making Jacob raise a brow.

"Well then, do it." He shrugs before smiling. "You'll need to take your pants off anyway for what I'm about to do to you. Want me to help you with them, baby?"

So that definitely backfired.

Jacob approaches you, hands reaching for the button on your jeans as you writhe in protest, trying to crawl away from him. Your sore ribs protest heavily but you struggle against his grip, which only tightens the harder you protest.

You are so fucked.

"The more you fight, the harder I get, baby." He snickers in your ears, making you want to throw up.

Jacob manages to unbutton your jeans and as he is pulling down your zipper, you land a kick on his shin, making him fall on his ass with a grunt. His eyes flash dangerously at you.

"Maybe I should tie your legs too, huh? Just let me take these jeans off."

"Get your hands off of her. Right. Now." There's a sudden voice.

You both turn your head to find Wonwoo, to your utter relief, standing there, a menacing look on his face as his eyes bore into Jacob.

"Let her go." His voice is quiet.

To others, it may sound flat but you know Wonwoo and you know the look in his eyes very well. A shiver rolls down your spine and you try once again to loosen the ropes tying your wrists. If you aren't free soon, things are gonna get messy.

"The big bad boyfriend is here to save the day, no?" Jacob scoffs, swaying the knife around in his hand. "Whatcha gonna do, boyfriend?"

"You wouldn't wanna know." Wonwoo gives him a cold smile that gives even you, goosebumps. You try to mediate the situation. "Jacob, please, listen to me. This doesn't have to be like this. Just let me go and we can pretend this never happened."

"Shut up, you whore! I'm getting a taste of you today and I don't care whether it's next to your boyfriend's rotting corpse!" He screeches, pointing the knife at you.

Mentally, you shake your head.

This really isn't gonna end well.

A grunt echo through the air and it takes a few seconds for your fuzzy brain to realize that Wonwoo has punched Jacob. The latter tumbles onto the floor, groaning loudly, "You fucking asshole! You broke my nose!"

Wonwoo's face remains blank as he repeatedly keeps kicking Jacob's torso, not even letting him get up. When he's gasping for air, he steps back to take a good look at him before walking to the side and picking up a metal rod.

In the meantime, Jacob manages to stand up on wobbly legs and his eyes widen when he sees Wonwoo pick up the weapon. "You fucking psychopath. You really wanna die today, huh?" He scoffs before charging toward Wonwoo, the knife in his hand aiming for his face. Wonwoo dodges it by leaning back and just as Jacob is passing by him, he grabs his other arm, twisting it roughly before clutching the hand holding the knife.

Jacob yells in pain but doesn't back down and there is a struggle as they both try to overpower each other. Amidst that, the knife in Jacob's hand manages to cut a thin line on Wonwoo's cheek, making him release Jacob and take a few steps back.

Jacob chuckles, his smile looking exceptionally evil as blood runs down his nose and coats his teeth. "I'm gonna have so much fun carving up your pretty face, nerd."

Wonwoo watches him with calculative eyes, a wry, slight smirk on his face as he tilts his head on both sides, popping the veins in his neck.

You watch with bated breath, knowing it's gonna get ugly and it does as Wonwoo charges for Jacob, hitting his head in the first strike with the metal bar. Jacob falls to his knees, cupping the side of his head as a gush of blood flows out. Before he can stand back up, Wonwoo hits him again and again and again, three more times on his head before his body slumps onto the ground, passed out.

But that doesn't make Wonwoo stop as he continues with two more hits and you start yelling. "Wonwoo, stop! Stop it! You're gonna kill him!"

He stops and his eyes meet yours. They are absolutely cold and empty, laced with an expression of that's-what-I-was-about-to-do and for a moment you think that he's gonna kill him right in front of you but he doesn't.

Surprising you, he drops the bar on the ground with a loud echo before calmly walking towards you and kneeling down to untie your wrists. You pant heavily, relieved and grateful as your eyes become teary when one of his hand cups your cheek tenderly, his eyes trained on the cut on your lips and the bruise on your cheek.

And to think that this man was being so violent seconds ago.

"Does it hurt badly?" He asks, eyes narrowing on your bruises. You immediately shake your head, not trusting your voice to speak.

You croak, "How did you find me?"

He scoffs. "Little cherry, you should have figured out by now how possessive I am of you." He tilts his head, giving you an isn't-that-obvious look. Yet, you're confused.

"You...you didn't actually put a—"

"Exactly," he smiles, almost proud. "I downloaded a tracker on your phone."

Holy shit. There's a lot to unpack but for now, you are totally grateful. So you just nod and clutch his arms tightly.

Your heart thumps loudly as the man wraps an arm around your waist, supporting you to stand up. The bruises on your body make it hard to do so but you manage with his help and gently he guides you out of the warehouse, picking up your scattered items lying in a corner and putting them in your bag before moving past Jacob's still body.

You turn your head back to observe if he's breathing and you notice the slow rise and fall of his chest, making you sigh in relief.

Wonwoo walks you both out of the compound before coming to a stop underneath a large banyan tree, right where he parked his bike.

"Call a taxi." He says as he hands you your bag. "Go to a hospital. I'll be there soon."

Your heart falls.

"W-what? W-where are you going?" You croak, hands immediately clutching the sleeves of his jacket. His hands gently hold you by the arm, a stark contrast to the look on his face, malicious, ruthless. "You don't leave loose ends, baby."

You almost choke on your saliva.

"Wha-what? No! You-"

His lips press against yours, effectively silencing you. One of his hand cups your cheek while the other laces around your waist, pulling your body next to his. Blindly you follow his lead, wrapping your arms around his neck as your tongue intertwines with his into a passionate kiss. It tastes like temptation, lust and a little bit metallic— from the blood on your lips and even though in the back of your mind you know how wrong this is, it feels like the most right thing of all time.

A while later Wonwoo pulls back as the haze of lust disappears from his eyes, replaced with seriousness.

"Do as you're told, ____. This isn't a request."

It isn't. It's a command.

Yet, as he turns around to head back into the warehouse, you cannot bring yourself to call a taxi. But you also cannot muster up to follow him back inside and watch him finish the job.

Blissful ignorance, as they like to call it.

Besides, there is no crime if there is no witness.

You try to tell yourself that you're staying in case Jacob manages to run away or worse, hurt Wonwoo or in case somebody comes around here.

So you make yourself comfortable underneath the tree and take a seat, even though your sore body protests in pain.

Seconds turn to minutes as they fly by and just like that half an hour is gone. The sky is now overcast with thick clouds, indicating an impending downpour that makes you worry.

There is no sign of Wonwoo yet.

When the first few drops of rain hit the ground, you manage to get yourself up after a little struggle and despite your ribs protesting, you start to take small steps towards the building.

Something must have gone wrong.

But you don't have to go too far because you see a tall figure approaching you from the other end and you realize it's Wonwoo. Your breath stutters as you stay still in your spot, waiting for him to take notice of you and come to you. He seems to be walking while in deep thought as his focus remains on the ground so you call for him.

"Wonwoo!"

His head snaps up as he regards you with wide eyes, standing still for a moment. Then he's running towards you, stepping on little puddles along the way.

"What are you still doing here!" His tone is sharp but you ignore it. Instead, your eyes scan his body for any injuries. He seems to appear fine— disheveled really, but still fine. There is a new cut on his forehead and there are specks of blood all over his face, neck and hands, especially his hands which are completely wet and coated in crimson.

You highly doubt it's his own blood. Still, your hands reach out for him and you find yourself asking, "Are you okay?"

Wonwoo glares at you. "You should have gone to a hospital by now, ____. You're hurt." You shake your head and instead cup his cheek, thumb brushing away the little specks of blood that are yet to wash away despite the pouring rain.

His eyes visibly soften as he sighs and shrugs off his jacket and puts it over your shoulders.

"You're gonna catch a cold." He whispers as his arms wrap around your shoulders, pulling your body next to him.

"J-Jacob?" You whisper.

His eyes go empty for a few seconds before he gives you a small, evil smile, "I took care of him."

Your heart falls and you swallow, the gravity of the situation dawning on you.

"B-but the body-"

"Lot of wolves in that forest.'' He says, indicating the woods right behind the building. ''They'll finish the body."

He smirks, giving you a look. "I believe Jacob came here drunk and passed out and the wolves took him." He pins you down with a look that makes you shudder.

You're now an accomplice to murder.

Gripping your chin with his thumb and index finger, he tilts your head up. "Hey. Nobody will know...unless you tell them."

That's right. Nobody will know.

With a jerky nod, your eyes meet his and even though your limbs are sore, you lean on your tippy toes and pull his lips onto yours by cupping his cheeks. His lips taste like rain and blood, full of danger but oh so tempting. Your tongues dance in a haze of fiery lust and passion and by the time you two separate, you're a little dizzy.

You should really get to the hospital.

"I won't tell anyone," you whisper, stroking the nape of his neck.

"Because I have nothing to tell. Jacob got eaten by the wolves. It was just an accident, after all." You state, surprised at how calm you are.

A grin spreads across Wonwoo's face, evil, satisfied and proud. You can't also help but smile a little as he captures your lips for a quick kiss before murmuring, "You're perfect, you know that little cherry?"

You swoon. "Maybe you can remind me when we are home. After taking a trip to the hospital, of course."

"Let's go." He holds out his hand and you take it as you both walk to his bike. Blood still stains his fingertips but you don't care as they transfer on your hands too. Instead, you let him slowly guide you away from the building, from that sick asshole who isn't breathing anymore, thankfully.

When you look down your hands entangled with his, a sense of odd comfort settles over you.

Sure, this man is completely unhinged and dangerous but he's also perfect.

Perfect for you.

You're both a little unhinged and that's fine.

What matters is that you are safe now. With him.

Smiling in contentment, you bring your intertwined hands up to your lips and press a kiss on his bruised knuckles.

You are bloody, yet safe.

a/n: and hence, I chose the name Bloodily Safe! I know it isn't that good but istg I couldn't think of anything else😭. this is, undoubtedly, the darkest fic I've written yet and somewhere in the middle I started questioning whether it'd be a good idea to release this. but the urge to share psycho Wonwoo with y'all won in the end lol. I blame pledis for this, we need an actor Wonwoo in a villain role immediately!!! I've left it as an open ending so I'm here to announce that yes, I am planning on writing another part of this, something like an extended epilogue where we focus more on Wonwoo. their feelings for each other also remain vague here and I've kept it so purposefully. it's up to each of your own interpretation. if you'd like to hear mine, do send an ask. I'm all ready to analyze and discuss our fav psycho wonwoo. also, I've yet to proofread this thoroughly so there might be some errors. that's it from me for now, thank you for taking the time to read this! have a lovely day!

taglist: @exocommunicado-03 @becauseiloveyunho @seyoungparkk @shuabby1994 @reol-0 @therewillalwaysbearainbow @sdoulc @nadiaarzu @dinosolecito @sweetiepiezz @vernonmabae @jejuboo-s @fairy-jojo @babystarcandykookie @kawaiimusiccollection @read2lips @yunhokami @knife-scream @just-here-to-read-01 @unwanted-15 @bldelaine @sysymei @joonsytip @freakinthesheesh @moonfloweronmars @simpinghrs @unicxrnblood @manamiyx @tara-drabbles

[roseykat]

KINKTOBER DAY 12

TITLE: Like Throwing Petrol on a Fire

WARNING: minors DNI with this post or my blog. I create NSFW SKZ related content and I know I won't be able to regulate every single interaction with those posts so please do not engage with my work and page whatsoever.

SUMMARY: Hyunjin can't get either his or your clothes off in time for him to fuck you. Unfortunately, he has to resort to and put up with another method.

TAGS: pre-established relationship, dry humping, swearing, poor Hyunjin can’t help himself (also both reader and Hyunjin are mentioned to be at the club but there is no alcohol involved with this story)

KINK: Dry humping.

KINKTOBER23 - MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @kbitties @luneskies @mal-lunar-28 @kibs-and-bits @aaasia111 @fairy-lixie @dreamingaboutjisung @queenmea604

🩷🩷🩷

-

It was meant to be a good night out for you and Hyunjin, which it was to begin with. You, him, and a group of friends all collectively decided to go clubbing together for the first time in a while. However, later in the night, Hyunjin would find himself in a predicament that he never would've been able to climb his way out of.  

What started off as innocently taking you to the dance floor, turned out to be the worst decision he had ever made. 

Had you not been pressing your ass against his hips for the entirety of the night, Hyunjin wouldn’t be where he is now; sexually frustrated and pissed off because you were teasing him in public. The fact that you knew and felt that he was getting hard, yet continued to grind on him was enough for Hyunjin to take you by the wrist, and pull you with him to the bathroom. 

Sneaky, public, bathroom sex would’ve been ideal for you both at the club – had it not already been full to the brim with other occupants already going at each other. It was either that or go home, and Hyunjin is not one to muck around when he’s horny.

He gets desperate, almost borderline agitated when he’s in the mood because he can’t fuck you.  

Seeing him like that always makes you want to tease him, but you know better. Teasing him means pure punishment for you and Hyunjin has a very creative mind so you always tread carefully around him when he’s in that state. He could deprive you of his body for an entire week or fuck you every day if he wanted. He’s just full of surprises. 

But now and then, Hyunjin becomes so needy that punishments and rewards don’t even cross his mind. That instance just so happened to occur at the club.

Having been so frustrated with not being able to find a decent place to fuck you, the pair of you needed to go home. Alleyways and narrow streets weren’t going to cut it for him, not when there were too many people loitering around. 

So Hyunjin led you back to his car, jumping in and nearly racing off. To make matters worse for him, you decide to test him by palming over his already hard cock. He couldn’t bear the strain he felt against his pants regardless of the small easements of pressure you were giving him as he drove you both back home. 

His head presses back into his chair, trying with every ounce of strength to keep his eyes on the road, “baby, why can’t you wait until we get home?” 

“Because I need you now Jinnie,” you mutter, taking advantage of the state that he’s in. 

Hyunjin does his best to ignore your answer as he turns the last corner onto the street of the house. He eventually slows down and pulls into the driveway to park. As he gets out, he’s thankful that it’s pitch black and everyone in the neighbourhood is asleep, otherwise they would’ve easily seen how hard is. 

“Keys,” you say to him. 

Hyunjin is already on it, barely saying anything as he pulls the house key out of his pocket with a shaky hand and unlocks the front door. The second it’s open, it’s Hyunjin’s game now. 

He pulls you in by the wrist, slamming the door, and backs you right against the entryway table with such force that it dents the wall behind it. There’s no making it to the room, let alone the lounge at this rate.

Hyunjin helps lift you onto the surface of the table, hoisting your legs up just to push and spread them for him to slide in between. Even just feeling the heat in between your thighs is enough to give him some relief, but not the kind that he's craving. 

“I need you…so bad baby,” he groans, pressing his hard, clothed cock into your pussy. 

The friction for you is incredible against your clit, but you do feel for Hyunjin who can’t do much when he’s in formal black slacks. All the while one of Hyunjin’s arms wraps around your lower back so that he can grope the other side of your body while the other hooks around and digs into your thigh.

“Yeah?” You ask, allowing him to continue to fake fuck you while his face is buried in your neck. He can’t even think straight enough to try to take his pants off.

Hyunjin groans, his voice raspy yet hurried, “fuck, I-“

“You know I’m ready for you, so wet for you Jinnie,” you egg him on even further. “Just want you to fuck me.”

His moans are exasperated and breathy, he always sounds beautiful to you when he’s like this, “I can’t – fuck I’m gonna cum…”

You’re not surprised given that you’ve technically been teasing him for the past hour now. So now all you can do is sympathise and let him do what he needs to. 

“It’s okay,” you assure him, breathing just as fast as he is. “Just cum for me.”

Hyunjin’s hips stagger out of their pace, continuing to thrust his dick repeatedly until he has to bite down on your shoulder to suppress the loud moans that are straining out of his throat. Not even a few seconds later, Hyunjin is rocked with an orgasm that has him gripping tightly onto your body, nails digging into you.

The pace of his thrusts slows down after his breathing reaches its peak height. Hyunjin has forgotten what it felt like to not cum inside you for once. It reminds him of the time when you first got together and were scared to take each other's virginities so only dry humping really made the cut. It still feels good, but not as nearly as glorious as busting a warm load inside of you.

"Fuck," Hyunjin sighs.

"Feel better?" You ask, carding your hand through the back of his black hair.

He looks down in between your legs, seeing the hairline-like, sticky strings of cum that connect from his clothed dick to your damp underwear. Hyunjin can barely tell if it's from him, or if that's just because you're wet. Maybe it's both. Either way, he finds it hot.

"You drive me crazy you know that?" Hyunjin says to you, leaning back in to snuggle his face into your neck once more. “Now I have to get hard again to fuck you.”

[macgyvermedical]

Building Your Home Pharmacy

So you're in the OTC med section of the pharmacy. You've got 100 bucks burning a hole in your pocket (or maybe like $15 cause you're just starting). You're a new adult who wants to build yourself a tidy home pharmacy.

Well first you've got to know some stuff about over the counter (OTC) meds. This is the post to help you do it.

What are OTC meds? They are medications you can buy from a pharmacy or grocery store without needing a prescription. They have been deemed relatively safe and relatively easy to dose without a doctor's intervention. This does not mean they can't be dangerous, just that the general public can generally be trusted not to accidentally kill themselves with them on the regular. Keep that in your mind for later.

Note that all the medications discussed below are given in their generic names. In order to find these names, look below the brand name on a medication bottle:

Pain Medications:

Acetaminophen/Paracetamol: This is a non-NSAID pain reliever and fever reducer, so it's great for people who can't take NSAIDs due to stomach or kidney issues. Works best for headaches and fevers, but works on other types of pain as well. Technically works best as a suppository, but still works some orally. No increased risk of bleeding. Don't take more than directed. Seriously. This one can kill you or seriously damage your liver.

Ibuprofen: NSAID. Works against pain, inflammation, and fever. Take on a full stomach or you could get ulcers. Don't take if you have kidney problems. You can take this with acetaminophen.

Naproxen: NSAID. Probably the most effective for pain, but works against inflammation and fever as well. Lasts 12 hours. Don't take high doses continuously or you will get kidney problems. You can take this with acetaminophen.

Aspirin: NSAID. This was the first NSAID and it's definitely here to give you stomach ulcers if you don't take it on a full stomach. Technically it works for pain, inflammation, and fever. Most people today take it as a blood thinner. You can take this with acetaminophen.

Allergy/Cold/Congestion Medications:

Diphenhydramine/Doxalamine: First Generation Antihistamines. These are great for nighttime allergies, coughs, insomnia, nausea, and itching. Most people get drowsy from these, but some people get really hyper, especially kids.

Cetirazine/Loratadine/Fexofenadine: Second Generation Antihistamines. These work for allergies and itching and don't cause as much drowsiness.

Phenylephrine/Pseudoephedrine: Decongestants. These work by mimicking epinephrine, making the blood vessels in the nose and sinuses smaller. This makes the nose and sinuses less stuffy, but it raises blood pressure (so don't take if that's a problem for you). Pseudoephedrine is also restricted- you must be an adult to purchase and you can only buy so much. You have to talk to a pharmacist to get it because it can be used to make methamphetamine.

Triamcinolone/budesonide/fluticasone Nasal Spray: These are steroid sprays. They work similarly to the decongestants but only in the nose, and generally don't travel to the rest of the body.

Guifenesin: This is an expectorant, not a decongestant. It works by thinning the mucous in the lungs and airway. This makes it easier for you to cough it up. You have to drink a lot of water with this for it to work, though.

Dextromethorphan: This is a cough suppressant. It works by blocking signals in the brain that tell you to cough. Pretty much everything interacts with this one so if you take any medications talk to your doctor first. Depending on where you live you may have to talk to a pharmacist to get this one due to the potential for abuse.

Digestive Medications

Loperamide: This is an antidiarrheal. It works by decreasing the amount of squishing around your intestines are doing, which helps you hold your diarrhea and lets you continue to function. It is an opioid, but is not absorbed from your digestive tract so it doesn't make you high.

Bismuth Subsalicylate: This works for diarrhea as well, but also nausea, heartburn, and the prevention of traveler's diarrhea. Don't take if you're allergic to salicylates or aspirin. Taking this for an extended period of time can also cause bismuth toxicity.

Calcium Carbonate: This is an antacid. It is very basic pH wise, so can help change the pH of stomach contents pretty quickly. This is usually used for heartburn. If you take any other medications, this can prevent you from absorbing them if you take them within two hours. Using for long periods can cause rebound heartburn when you stop taking it.

Cemetidine/Famotidine/Ranitadine: These are gastric acid reducers, and they work by blocking the type of histamine that is necessary for the production of stomach acid. They are usually used for heartburn and ulcers.

Omeprezole/Esomeprezole: These are also gastric acid reducers, but they work by blocking a different part of the very complicated way our stomachs make acid. After years and years of taking these you might get some bone density problems.

Bisocodyl/Senna: These are laxatives. They work by increasing the movement of the intestines. It's important not to take these consistently unless you can't poop at all without them, or you seriously will not be able to poop without them.

Docusate/Propylene Glycol: These are stool softeners. They work by increasing the amount of water in the intestines. These are pretty safe to take all the time if you need to.

Simethicone: This is a surfactant. It works by accumulating all the gas bubbles in the intestines so they can be expelled. It's usually used for painful gas.

Topical Medications:

Clotrimezole/Miconazole: These are antifungal preparations. They treat yeast infections, athletes foot, jock itch, and ringworm.

Triple Antibiotic Ointment: This is a cream that contains antibiotics. Ostensibly you're supposed to put this on small cuts to decrease risk of infection. IRL just clean it with soap and water and then put some vasaline on it. Studies have shown it works just as well.

Hydrocortisone: This is a steroid cream. You put it on itchy things (bug bites, poison ivy, etc...) and it makes them not itch as much. This one actually works and is generally better than diphenhydramine creams that can't be used on poison ivy.

Permethrin: This is an insecticide. It will help get rid of head and body lice.

Zinc Oxide: This is a skin protectant. It helps prevent diaper rash and chafing. It also makes things feel better once you've already chafed. Technically it is also a sunblock, but it will make you look like a ghost while you're wearing it.

Family Planning:

Levonorgestrel: This is known as the morning after pill. It works by blocking ovulation, so that a sperm and egg cannot meet, preventing pregnancy. It can be taken up to 5 days after unprotected sex, though it works better the sooner it is taken.

Devices:

Blood Sugar Meter/Strips/Lancets: These help measure the amount of sugar in your blood. They are usually used by people with diabetes.

Blood Pressure Cuff: This measures blood pressure automatically with a cuff around the upper arm or wrist. It is usually used by people with high blood pressure.

Ketogenic Test Strips: This measures the amount of ketones in the urine. Ketones are a byproduct of fat breakdown, usually found when the body cannot breakdown carbohydrates for energy and begins to break down fat instead. Usually people who are on a ketogenic diet or people with diabetes use these.

Peak Flow Meter: This measures the amount of air that can be used by the lungs. They are usually used by people with asthma or COPD.

Great, Which Ones Do I Need?

I'd recommend look over the list and see which ones would be most useful for you, and start with those. Over time, collect ones that would be most embarrassing to not have, and then the ones that you're pretty sure you'll never use.

Note that in a dry, unopened package (including inside blister packs), drugs last well beyond their expiration dates. So if you don't use a certain med all that often, get a smaller package of it.

Great, Which Ones Can I Take at the Same Time?

Good question. I'm going to say that if you take any prescription medications, you always want to check with your doctor before taking anything OTC. However, I recommend you use an interaction checker like this one if you want to take more than one OTC med at the same time. One can be found here.

Note:

Loperamide CANNOT be taken with cimetidine/ranitidine/famotidine. This causes bad heart rhythms.

Don't take two meds from the same category together (like cimetadine with ranitidine, or ibuprofen with naproxen, or diphenhydramine and fexofenadine unless a doctor tells you to).

Most antacids (calcium carbonate, sodium bicarbonate) will prevent the absorption of other medications, so take them two hours apart from anything else you take.

Don't drink alcohol with loperamide, detromethophan, acetaminophen, or any antihistamines.

[eveningepiphany]

reconnect | h.s oneshot

my masterlist

summary: lockdown is tough on both you and harry. you miss the feeling of physical touch so much you start chasing to fill that void in one another.

warnings: sweet and dirty smut, unprotected sex, fingering (fem rec), spitting, deep conversation, lil bit emotional, touch starved harry & y/n, lockdown and covid mentions.

a/n: something hot and sweet for y’all ily!! highkey wish I had harry during my lockdown era writing this, my god.

———

You felt entirely numb as you heard the familiar news reporter say the words you had been dreading of hearing. Tahnee was was always on at this time of the day— you didn’t even know her name however many months ago.

Restrictions had been easing just a week or so ago.

Her voice continued to echo through the lounge room as you cupped your face in your hands with a sigh.

“—we understand the effect this news may have on viewers at home. In these unprecedented times we must stick together as much as we can. Look after yourself everyone… we’ll see you next with our sporting updates after the ad break.”

She sounded glum, like she hated being the one to deliver the news to people. In the end, she too has to go home and cope with the numerous amounts of restrictions on her life.

You reached for the remote, turning off the tv and throwing it back into the duvet that now permanently lived on the couch, good for the cold nights and binge watching TV shows because you had nothing better to do.

Other than ignore your upcoming college assignments. Which you’re going to continue to do. And procrastinate finishing them and how much you hate the pressure of online schooling.

You had other shit to dwell on too.

You miss your family. You miss your friends.

You’re sick of living out birthdays and your college life on video calls.

You missed being hugged, and kissed and touched.

You were so grateful to have your best friend of all people stuck with you. But you still craved so many kinds of social interaction.

Now you just wanted to cry.

You stood up, knowing harry wouldn’t know yet. Probably in bed on his phone, and you just needed his company.

You quickly went to escape the silence of the lounge room, padding down the hallway in your sweatpants and a baggy tshirt you know for a fact you stole from your dad.

His door was only half shut, and you gently said his name.

“Harry…?” Your voice wavers.

“Yea, love?” His voice is soft, welcoming as it always is.

You push through the door to see him laying in bed, also in sweatpants and a rolled up long sleeve.

He looks at you and tears immediately start to spill over your waterline without you even realising.

He props himself up, “y/n, what’s wrong?”

You invite yourself over to his bed, and his arms pull you into his chest the moment you’re close enough.

A gesture that is just too much given the circumstances, and although the sweetest, it tips you over the edge.

You feel the tightness in your throat as his hands move to caress your back. Before you know it, your chest is rattled with a sob. You felt so dramatic but you needed to let it out.

He waited no time to wrap you straight into his tightest hug, trailing his hands up to your the back of your neck, stroking the skin there with his thumb.

“Darling.” He whispered, concerned of what had happened, but not wanting to push you to tell him. Just letting you cry.

Eventually it wracked out of you,

“We’re— we’re going back into stage four restrictions.” Your reasoning came out with a shaky voice.

You felt his intake of breath once you’d said it, and it got held in his chest for a few seconds before getting let go all at once.

“Fuck.” He cursed out defeatedly.

You sit in silence, but not once does his grasp on you loosen.

“I just want to see my family outside of a fucking FaceTime.” You whisper.

“I do too…” he closes his eyes, “I wish there was something I could do to make it better, y/n. I’m sorry.”

He grabs your hand, amending what he said before.

“I know this is shit, but we’ll get through it. We get through everything together.” He smiles, it doesn’t quite crinkle the corners of his eyes like it usually does, but it’s an attempt at the least.

“I’m so sick of feeling so alone, Harry. I’m glad i have you here, but it’s so lonely at the same time with just us.” You say quietly, hoping not to offend him.

He nods against your head, which is tucked into his shoulder, letting you vent without interruption.

“We can’t do anything. We can’t see anyone. I havent felt another persons touch outside of yours in weeks.”

He doesn’t get offended, he understands exactly where you’re coming from and you’re so grateful for that.

He just plays with your hair as you talk.

“Same here, baby.”

“I don’t mean it in a rude way, you’re very affectionate given our circumstances, but I just…”

Your sentences falls off short, and you shrug. You missed romantic touch too.

“Y’miss being touched.” He enunciates the word in a more suggestive way.

You nod, “not to sound… gross or anything. But I do miss being touched, and held, and kissed.”

He pulls you in a little closer as you speak, almost without realising he was doing it. Absentmindedly ready to do any thing to make you feel a bit better. A bit more connected.

“It’s not gross. It’s normal.” He frowns, “We have gone months without seeing our own family. I can only guess neither of us have had anything romantic going for us. Nothing wrong with missing that.”

“It seems kind of— i don’t know— weird to miss in comparison to the other things.”

“Y/n, tell me you’re not feeling guilty for missing getting kissed. Or laid.”

“I’m…” you sigh as you realise you can’t even pretend you’re not, and he rolls his eyes lightly.

“Jesus.” He let’s out a breathy laugh.

“It’s not just that, atleast, that I miss.” You shake your head, still feeling a little embarrassed.

“I miss the connection. The feeling of it.”

His facial expressions quickly get more serious as you talk. All of the words coming from your mouth can be interpreted in varying ways, but his mind can’t help but veer towards the more sexual aspect of it. Especially since you didn’t deny you missed getting laid.

“I get it. I miss having the opportunity to want someone.” He nods again, watching your reaction to what he says like a hawk.

You look away, almost shy, “To really want it.”

“Yea…” he glances at your lips without realising he’s doing it, and the feeling you’re both discussing at this very moment is welling in the pit of his stomach.

His hands reach out to wipe away the damp glaze on your cheeks from your tears.

“I’m proud of you.” He sighs.

“What— Why?”

“Because. You may think you’re not, but you’re doing so well.” He looks utterly sincere as he says it.

“Harry…” you shake your head as his name slips past your tongue, and you bury your face further into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent, lips accidentally brushing the base of his neck.

This has him tingling, your soft mouth so close to his pulse point, he wonders if you can feel it racing.

“Y/n.” He squeezes your hip, “If you want me to kiss you, just know all you have to do is say the words.”

He swallows as you still, processing the offer he’s just put on the table.

“But—“

“I miss it too. The really wanting it.” He caresses the soft skin of your waist with the hand that’s now slid underneath your shirt.

You go quiet, suddenly the air so thick with tension you couldn’t breathe.

“If you want anything from me, I’ll give it to you.” He whispers, so softly. Like he wants you to hear him, but also not at the same time.

You’re not sure how to even react.

You’re horny. Emotional. And frankly a little bit too infatuated with his lips to breach into the territory of being able to touch them with your own.

“Harry.” You repeat, sounding unsure.

“Baby, if you wanted it, I would do it.”

He scratches his fingers down your spine, noting the absence of a bra strap.

You shudder at the sensation. Realising no one has made you feel like this in so long.

“Very sudden.” You blurt, trying not to push forward with you hips whatsoever, despite the ache that’s quickly conjured between your legs.

You fear that if you feel him, all sense of rationality will be gone.

“I know.” He says, lips dragging down your temple.

“M’beginning to realise, y/n, that i would do just about anything to keep you happy.”

Your heart pangs and you indulge a little, hands coming up to weave through his hair and pull on it gently.

And he groans, sounding so pretty.

“You deserve this too.” You carefully say. You’re not even sure where the line is between the two of you. But you continue talking anyway,

“Always so sweet… so giving. Who would I be to not make you feel loved on too.”

“Christ.” He whispers as you tug on his brown curls again, which slide against your fingers like silk.

“How far is this gonna go, H.” You ask, needing clarification before you go insane.

“Far as you want it.”

“I need specifications.” Your hands come to his cheeks, “I don’t want to be making any assumptions here.”

“Angel, If you asked me for my mouth on your pussy, I would give it. Want my cock? It’s yours. Use me, touch me, anything you want you already have.”

You feel yourself melt at the words.

You cave, leaning forward and capture his perfect lips, feeling their shape slot against yours like an art piece.

His lips feel heavenly, and you nearly black out at the sensation that overtakes your body.

“Fuck, that feels so good love.” Harry says against your mouth, his tongue jutting out to swipe over your bottom lip.

You hum in the back of your throat, and he tugs your hips so you’re properly seated into his lap.

You can’t miss his erection underneath your core. His clothed length is pressing into you and a moan slips out of you before you can even stop it.

“Need it. Please.” You start to beg, no matter how desperate it comes across.

His hand comes to your waistband, “you’re sure you want me to touch you?”

“Yes, yes.”

It dips underneath the fabric, finding you without underwear and almost dripping you were that wet.

The thing is, going so long with just your hand and a vibrator, the second any kind of prospect of getting dicked down is there— you’re immediately slick with arousal.

“Jesus fuck, y/n.” He drags his middle finger through your cunt, feeling the wetness along his finger tip. “You’re soaked.”

“Harry— oh my god—“ he slid it back down, teasing your entrance with his fingertip.

“Been that long huh. Just the thought of it works you up this much?” He chuckles.

Your hands fly to the collar of his shirt, tugging at the soft material, gripping it in your fists.

You hum in agreement. “More, please.”

“Mm, so glad you’re letting me do this.”

He pushes in further, and just his one long finger is touching places that has you clenching around him.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you.” Praise is spilling from your lips as he curls his digit in you.

You slouch into his strong frame, hand slipping down between the two of you, palming over his erection.

He peppers your neck in open mouthed kisses, moaning at the feeling of you squeezing his clothed cock.

“Can I— fuck— get you out.” You ask, reaching to dip under his sweatpants.

“Yes. Don’t even have t’ask, pretty.”

You flush, hand moving underneath his waistband, finding him also without underwear.

Relief flooded you as you got your hands on the smooth skin of his cock.

He moaned at the contact, “Shittt. That feels amazing. S’much better than my own hand…”

He slides another finger into as you begin stroking along his length.

You both begin to move in sync with one another, the sound of your pleasure beginning to echo around the room.

“Can hear how wet you are.” Harry grunts, fingers curling inside you.

Your hand squeezes around his cock as he does that, causing you both to moan.

“Harry. I need you inside me… please.” His fingers were already close enough to making you come and you weren’t sure how he’d react if you came before he even got close to being in you.

“Can I make you come first? Want you to feel good, baby. If you can handle more than one orgasm, please?”

He wants you to feel good.

Before himself.

You realise this man in genuinely a saint. Like more than you ever could have imagined.

“Seriously?” You still don’t even believe he means it. Maybe he’s just saying it to be nice, and actually wants you to say no?

“What do you mean?” He looks a little confused, slowing down the kisses he was placing along your neck.

“I— sorry. I’m just not used to being so… looked after, I guess?”

“Have other guys not made you come first…?” He looks shocked.

“No… not usually? Occasionally, if I’m really horny and it wouldn’t take long.”

“I know there’s some scumbags out there, but with a pussy like yours… they should be begging to please you.” He shakes his head, not finished talking.

“For the record, lovie, if you weren’t so adamant in getting filled with my cock, I’d be making you come atleast twice before I fuck you.”

He pulls his hand entirely away from your cunt, allowing you to feel his absence as he talks. “Then I’d edge you with my fingers to the brink of your third. Until you’re begging me to stretch you out.”

He delivers a gentle slap over the hood of your clit once he’s done talking. Sliding his middle and pointer finger back down into your entrance to gather the arousal there, and slip it up to your clit.

“Oh.” You breathed out. A whiney noise following from your throat shortly after.

You were surprised. Not because it was Harry, if anyone would be like this it would be him. But you’re used to being a second thought sometimes. Just an aid to an end goal.

You’d become accustomed to it. Now there’s a man in front of you, who wants to please you because it seems to make him happy.

He reaffirms that thought, “I don’t think you’re aware how happy I’m gonna feel when your cunt is pulsating around my fingers in a few minutes.”

With saying that, he pinches and rolls your clit between his fingers and you struggle to find words to respond to what he said.

“Fuck— I— thank you.” You’re shaking a little as he increases the speed as he works over your clit.

“Nono. Thank you. You’re so nice under my fingers. So wet and warm.” He hums as you begin to squirm against his touch.

Your hand movements around his hard cock have gone to a lax and languid stroke, and almost stop all together when he dives his fingers back into your hole.

“Mhm— Harry!” You gasp, quickly starting to lose all your sense of self as he plays with you.

“That’s it, Y/n. Let me take care of you.”

He works you expertly, and your cunt is so unprepared for the attention from someone other than yourself. Its making it hard to hold yourself together.

You’re clenching around his fingers, and the tension in your stomach is quickly building.

“I’m gonna… fuck I’m gonna come soon, H.” You moan, followed by another curse of his name as he flicks your clit with his thumb.

Your pushing your hips against his hand, grinding into every movement. Chasing that explosion of pleasure in your abdomen.

“Wanna feel it. Come on, let it all go f’me.” He coos, keeping a hard and fast pace with his hand.

You cry out his name, nails scraping down his skin as you beg for the final push, which comes quickly.

A curl of his thrusting fingers and your movement lapses immediately, jaw going slack as you come around his hand.

It’s better than he could ever imagine, the noises coming from your lips are sinful, and you lean forward, open mouth panting over his cheek.

Hot breath fanning across his face while you’re still clenching around him.

He moves to bite your bottom lip, earning a jerk of your hips and another moan from you.

After your heart rate slows, he gently removes his fingers out of you.

“Good girl. Took it so well.” He pecks your nose with his lips.

“Can take your cock better.” You let out a breathy laugh.

He smiles, dimples popping out.

“Little minx. C’mere.”

He draws you into a hug, pulling your middle flush to his chest.

“D’ya need a minute, or no?” He asks gently, voice close to you ear.

“No, I’m ok, I’m good.” You blush.

“S’it too much to ask to take your shirt off?” His hand pulls at the hem of your tshirt.

“Can yours come off too?” You chuckle, leaning back to settle your eyes on the long sleeve covering his chest.

He nods, still smiling as he lets you take his off first. Revealing his toned chest and inked skin.

You run your hands along the ridges of his abs as he reaches for to pull off your own shirt.

Lifting your arms, you hear his little intake of breath as he remembers you don’t have a bra on.

The shirt gets tossed elsewhere as he is focused solely on your chest.

He looks transfixed as he trails a hand up to ghost over the skin on the side of your breast.

“Fuckin’ hell. Look at you, Angel. Got the prettiest tits.” He says it with such endearment.

You squirm with pleasure as he cups you in his hand, bringing your nipple to his mouth. His hot, velvety tongue slicking over the sensitive skin there.

Your back arches immediately, a moan sounding from you.

“Fuckkk…” you drawl out, letting him suck it into his mouth.

The sensation is enough to have you a mess in his hands again. The way he works his mouth over you like it’s nothing.

You take his cock back into your grip— having momentarily let go during the haze of your orgasm— and run the head of him through your folds.

His mouth falls open around you, moaning, letting his breath fan over your sensitive nipple.

“Jesus Christ, Y/n.” He groans against you.

“So hard…” you whisper, rubbing his tip over your clit.

He lifts his head away from your chest, glancing down to see the connection between the two of you.

And he moves a hand down, lacing it over the top of yours.

You felt so connected with him. Just with his hand now over yours, and his length pressed into your clit.

You can’t even imagine the state you’ll be put in when he’s inside of you.

“Harry… need you.” You plead again, without care of if he’s sick of hearing it.

You need him. Need him so bad it’s consuming you. All you can think about is him. Not even in the sense that all you want his cock.

You just need to feel like you’re close as you possible can be to him.

“I know baby, I know.” He kisses your cheek, “Y’want me to use a condom?”

“Only if you want to. I’m clean and still on the pill.”

“I trust you. If that’s what you want.” He reaffirms with you.

“H, I have to feel you. Just need to be close to you.” You lean into his neck, kissing the skin there.

“And s’this position comfortable for you?”

“Yes, yes. I’ll take you anyway, any position. Whether you want me on top, under you, bent over… don’t care. Just want you.”

“God, you’re such a good girl. So amazing f’me.”

You let him guide your hand to the base of his length. And then slowly, with his hand interlocked over yours, drag his tip to your entrance.

Your already letting out whines, free arm coming to lace into the hair at the nape of his neck.

You lower your hips down on him, feeling the head of his cock slip up into you.

You both let out a moan at the sensation, whispers of each others names falling from your lips. Gently you keep sliding him in further, soaking in every second you feel him stretch you out.

This was what you missed. The feeling of connecting with someone. Not necessarily with just the sex. But feeling intertwined. Like you couldn’t tell where your body ended and his begun.

“You’re better than I could’ve dreamed, lovely.” He praised, earning a clench of your cunt. One he wasn’t expecting, that had him moaning into the shell of your ear.

He sounded perfect. Like an Angel. And you melted further into him at the sound.

“This is perfect, Harry. Needed it so bad.” You stroked his hair as you spoke.

He removed his hand from over yours, coming to rest both of them on your hips, guiding you down further.

Once you moved your own, you could let him slide you all the way. Your clit brushing over his pubic bone once you reached the base.

“Clenching ‘round me like that—“ he hisses, “gon’ make me come too fast, darling.”

“Let me feel you for a second.” He holds you in place, letting you sit still over his thick cock.

“So wet, so warm. Made to fit my cock, hm?” He squeezes the skin of your waist.

He bucks his pelvis up to you after you moan out an agreement, “Made just for you, Harry.”

And he’s starting to thrust slowly in and out, guiding your hips through the movements.

“Lay on me.” He rearranges himself so you can lay your chest onto his, and rest your head next to his cheek.

Your breasts press up against him, and clit is now being stimulated even more by his front.

“Need you close to me.” He whispers, and you start to bounce onto his cock gently. Bum slapping on the strength of his thighs.

“Me too, H. Have to feel every part of you.” You moaned, circling yourself on him. Each rotation hitting your clit, causing you to moan.

He also is in shock at the sensation of being inside of you. It almost like a surprise to his entire nervous system.

He draws his fern-adorning hips back, only to snap them back upwards. Skin slapping at the movement.

Not to mention the sound of your wetness gliding along his cock each time you got thrusted into, which was echoing through the room.

“Listen to how wet you are. All for me.” He groans, picking up the pace.

Your lips find a spot to suck below his ear as he talks, nipping at the skin.

“I’m so… you make me so wet.” You agree, pussy pulsating around his bare cock.

“Love it. Don’t you? Us using each other like this.”

He says it, knowing the dirty talk in turning you on even more. But you both know it goes beyond getting a quick fuck.

This is everything to you both. Feeling like, for the first time in so long, you are truly not alone.

“Want you to use me, Harry.” You roll your cunt, pushing your clit onto any part of him it reaches, still clenching at the contact.

“Dirty Girl. So fucking desperate.” He laughs, kissing your hair.

“Who would I be to talk, though.” He grabs at your ass, “I’d beg you for this everyday. This sweet cunt around me. For you to touch me. Anything.”

He admits it with a moan following after it, your pussy fluttering.

You feel it building it inside the pit of your stomach.

“Want you to fill me up.” You state, panting as your thighs start to shake, and you realise in a few minutes your going to come. And hard.

“With my come, huh? Want me to put it deep inside y’baby?” He asks you, hips bucking excitedly at the prospect.

“Yes! Fill me with your warm come, Harry.” You’re starting to go delusional.

Filthy fucking words flying from your mouth as your arousal overtakes every rational part of your brain.

“Shit—“ He is pressing you flush to his body, holding you as close as he possibly can. The pace of his cock slapping into you increasing by the second.

“I wanna see it drip out of you, Y/N.” He groans, fucking into you hard and fast.

You feel amazing, your heart racing in your chest, and your whole body vibrating. You’re being stimulated in so many places. Your nipples pressed up to his toned chest, clit being rubbed by his pubic bone, god— and his cock fucking you.

“Thankyouthankyou—“ your mind is quickly turning to a mess with him swallowing you up like this.

You feel your orgasm approaching with a tension in the pit of your stomach. It’s quickly becoming the only sensation you can feel outside of the harsh thrusts Harry is giving you.

“Good little slut.” He grabs your face, lust taking over the both of you like you’re teenagers.

His pace doesn’t let up, and he stares at you with half lidded eyes.

“Spit in my mouth.” You beg, not even sure where the fucking thought was from before it came out of your lips.

“God… fuck— open your mouth.” He grunts, tilting his head to angle his lips to yours.

You open it, sticking your tongue out a little past your bottom lip, ready to catch anything that would drip given the fact you’re still on top of him.

He purses his lips, gathering up his saliva and dropping it down onto your tongue.

It was fucking feral, and you loved every second of it.

It tasted of him, and you swallowed it without even being asked.

Just watching that happen had him fucking you like it was his sole purpose in life. His thrusts became despeate for you.

You shook with anticipation, “I’m— I’m gonna come!”

“Yes… fuck yes. Come on, baby, finish all over my cock.”

His words were your breaking point, your cunt clenching so hard around him that he groaned aloud.

“Fuckfuckfuck— make me come, Y/N.” before he started to pulsate in you, putting his load deep into your pussy.

Having it happen almost all at once prolonged your orgasm, making you continue to moan and writhe in his grip for what felt like forever. Squeezing him until he had nothing left to give you.

Once you slowly both regained your awarenesses, you stayed on top of him. Sweaty and sticky, but you stayed close as possible to him.

You couldn’t fathom that just happened.

“Harry…” you whispered, and he hummed to the quiet chant of his name.

“Thank you. Thank you so much.”

“Stop thanking me baby. You did just as much for me.” He smiles into your cheek.

He brought his arms up to cage you to his chest, “and it’s so nice to be holding you.”

You move to kiss his lips, gently sucking his bottom one into your mouth. Lulling your tongue over it, letting it go with a pop.

“I haven’t felt this present in… in months.” You say quietly.

“Neither have I. Y’make me feel safe. Which might sound odd, but s’true.” He glances at you, watching you smile at his words.

“Im so glad we did that.” You make sure he knows you don’t have a single regret in following through with everything.

“Once we’re showered, gonna have a serious conversation about the fact you asked me to spit in your mouth.” He chuckles.

You flushed, not sure whether to be embarrassed about it or not.

“Got a little uhm.. carried away.” You tried to justify.

“Don’t worry, don’t worry,” he laughs, indicating he was just teasing, “thought it was so hot. Just never would have expected it.”

“I wanna know what else you’re into, yknow.” He licks his lips.

“What other dirty little secrets your hiding up in that head of yours.”

You shake your head, “shut up.”

“M’serious. We’ve got a lot of time to kill.” He’s still chuckling, hand coming to stroke through your hair.

“And I loved that. Loved feeling you so close. You’re a dream.” He pecks your cheek again.

“Make me some of your good cooking and I’ll think about it.” You joke.

“But really…” you pause, “thank you too, H. That meant everything to me.”

He didn’t reply with words, they wouldn’t be enough, so he just kissed you. Kissed you with every ounce of his being.

———

[f1daydreamers]

𝐁𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐁𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐫𝐬 [𝐓𝐀𝟔𝟔] 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟑

gif credits: @trenty

Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Fem!Reader

Summary: Arne, in hopes to focus on his team’s mental health as much as their physical, recruits a younger but just as educated psychologist to work one-to-one with the more reserved players. Trent is one of them.

A/N: Check out the masterlist for the first two parts if you haven’t read them already! Also, thank you so much for the kind comments on my posts, they mean more to me than you’ll ever know!

Warnings: this one’s a bit more fluffy, still a very reserved Trent tho

Word Count: 1.9k words (7 mins reading avg)

…

The first match to kickstart the club’s season was undeniably close.

The pressure had been mounting palpably in the last few weeks, evident in the increasingly focused, sharper, and heavier training sessions.

You didn’t have a personal experience with them, more so the ones that Conor had been complaining about.

But despite being unable to travel to the US, you’d personally assumed that preseason had been a success.

You’d caught highlights when they dropped and heard murmurs of staff satisfaction with certain performances circulating around the centre.

You hadn’t been able to get many sessions in though, only a touch few with Conor, as he was your top priority given his age.

He’d done remarkably well the previous season under Jurgen when top performances were needed, but working on his mental stability was always a key factor and one of extreme importance.

"Congrats," you smiled warmly as the Irishman approached, his own smile mirroring yours. You acknowledged his successful time in America.

“You must be feeling great,” you remarked, smiling gently.

His dimples were evident as he nodded, a sense of fulfilment telling in his stance. “Yeah, yeah. It was good, enjoyed it proper.”

You let him continue on, giving brief welcomes and some hugs to the players as they piled in one by one within the hour before their training began.

You felt a pang of frustration as Trent walked directly past you, refusing to even meet your eyes as he acknowledged only a few of the staff who were standing off to the side.

Dismissing it, you turned your attention to Wataru as he approached next.

You needed to focus on the players who were working with you. It was crucial, especially as the season was fast-approaching.

Or so you kept telling yourself.

“Y/N,” you glanced back, a smile forming as you spotted Arne trying to catch your attention.

“How are you doing?” He asked as you fell into step with him, continuing to walk down the corridor towards the gym where he was headed.

“Good, yeah. You?” You kept it short and sweet, fully aware that he was a busy man.

“Doing okay. About your request you sent before preseason,” Arne continued, prompting both of you to stop and face each other, a hopeful anticipation in the air.

“It’s fine with me and Lee doesn’t have any issues with it. But, if there is no improvement, then the sessions will need to resume as planned. Okay?” He nodded affirmatively.

“Yes, of course. I-I understand. Thank you.” You replied gratefully, your appreciation evident as he patted your shoulder before leaving you.

…

The city was buzzing with activity as match day quickly approached. Red flares blazing around the city, shirts and scarves already adorned the day before.

The players were being put through their paces in the final training session before the big game. Having an hour free in the mornings after your request was approved meant you could utilise it in a different way.

You observed the session from the sidelines, making mental notes of the players' demeanours and interactions. Trent was, as usual, intensely focused. Every movement, every touch of the ball deliberate.

After the session had concluded for the day, you made your way to the changing rooms. Some were discussing tactics, sharing jokes, and some were lost in their thoughts, mentally preparing.

You approached Conor, who was pulling his boots off his feet, and sat beside him.

"Ready for tomorrow?"

He looked up, his shoulders slumping. "Yeah, I think so. Just need to stay focused."

"Remember what we talked about," you reminded him gently. "Always be ready, visualise your game, see yourself succeeding."

Conor nodded, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He raised his fist, and you met it with a bump. "Thanks, Y/N. It helps, you know."

A wave of relief washed over you. Reminding yourself that you were doing a good job was one thing, but hearing it from someone you always tried to help was another.

"I'm glad," you said, giving his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

Upon hearing Arne clasp his hands together, forcing everyone to quiet down and hear the gaffer out, you silently gave Curtis and Wataru a nod before slipping out of the room.

As you turned, you nearly collided with Trent. He tutted, sidestepping in order to slide past you and into the changing rooms. You'd hoped that once he was informed of your approved request, he'd be slightly less frowny.

But seemingly, the opposite was happening.

…

You had just finished Curtis' report when a knock on your door interrupted your thoughts. Mustering a tired smile, you called out, "come in."

Lee popped his head through the door, and you rose from your chair. "Hey, everything okay?"

He entered the office, closing the door behind him but not completely. With his hands raised in mock surrender, he said, "yeah, yeah, all good. I just uh wanted to ask if you caught Trent." "I thought you approved my request?" you asked, eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "I did," he confirmed, stepping forward. "But I saw Trent hanging around your office just after training." "What? Why?" you asked, bewildered. You tried to think back to earlier, but all you remembered was that you were definitely not in your office. "He didn't say. Didn't seem happy, though." Lee shoved his hands into his pockets, shifting his weight on to either feet. "Not much difference there, then." You sighed, placing your hands on your hips. "I'm confused. If he knew about the request, why would he show up?" You asked, and the senior consultant shrugged, crossing his arms over his chest. You both thought about it for a moment until Lee spoke again, "are you sure Arne let him know?" Your head tilted, mouth slightly parting as realisation dawned on you.

Oh.

"I'm pretty sure Arne didn't because you were meant to," you said, trying to keep your tone casual despite the frustration creeping in.

The first session Trent had supposedly shown up for, you weren't even there. Suddenly, his avoidance of you after you'd exited the changing rooms made a lot more sense. He must’ve just come down from your office. "I was?" Lee asked, clearly taken aback. You let your head fall back in exhaustion but slowly nodded moments later. Shuffling through the papers on your desk, you found the one you needed and handed it to Lee. He scanned over the text, before he looked up again.

“Y/N, I feel terrible. I can go find him." Remorse painted itself across his features.

"It's okay," you replied. "It's better if he hears it from me." You aimed to justify poorly.

Because you had a very successful track record of not pissing Trent off, obviously.

...

Later in the day, you found yourself back in the canteen, grabbing a quick coffee.

It was well past noon, but with the mountain of reports you needed to write about the players' psychological states before tomorrow, caffeine was your only ally.

Trent walked in, looking for a snack. Being on the bottom of his 'I don't want to talk to you' list every day meant the outcome of your conversations with him were quite forseeable.

Deciding to address the elephant in the room, you walked up and pushed all doubts to the back of your mind. You reached out and touched his arm to get his attention, and he reacted immediately.

He turned to face you, and you lowered your hand slowly.

“Can we talk for a second?” you asked, trying to sound as casual as possible.

His jaw hardened. “I'm busy.”

"I promise it won't take long." You countered.

"Considering I don't care about your promises, that don’t mean shit to me." He's on a roll with the irony, you thought to yourself.

You glanced at a sympathetic Carol who was standing on the other side of the serving station.

"Please?" You blinked slowly, praying to the powers that be to instill some patience in the man.

He picked up a bag of trail mix, before watching your face for a few seconds. You were half-expecting him to tell you to eat shit, but you were wrong.

An unusually pleasant surprise.

You nodded to a quieter corner and led the way, with him following behind before you whisked around.

"I'm so sorry." You fiddled with the cup of coffee in your hand.

Past his hardened anger, you'd felt bad for him. The courage to have shown up only to be let down isn't a feeling that would've altered his perception of you.

"I don't care." His gaze bore into yours, unyielding.

You frowned slightly. "I do. I told you I'd keep trying to reach you and-"

"What's your point?"

His eyes travelled down to your fidgeting fingers before dragging back up to your face. He sighed, clearly bored.

"Lee was meant to tell you," you paused, gathering your words. His eyes narrowed.

A flush of guilt coloured your cheeks. "I put in a request before preseason to cancel our sessions together."

You looked up, trying to gauge his reaction. The crease between his brows was prominent. "It was approved, and Lee was supposed to tell you, but he must've forgotten."

It hurt to let someone down. As a chronic people-pleaser, this likely frustrated you way more than it did Trent.

He leaned against the wall behind him, bringing one knee up. He crossed his arms but his eyes lightened. "So, you're telling me that..."

He paused to pop an almond into his mouth. "You admitted defeat?"

Either he was smirking, or you were being incredibly delusional.

You shook your head. "No, I never gave up on you. I thought maybe you needed a different approach." Explaining your previous actions felt pathetically awkward.

His lips pressed together. "Or maybe you just couldn’t handle it."

You rolled your eyes, your features still guilt-ridden. "Does that make you happy or something?"

His eyes roved over your features, and for a moment, his expression softened.

"Oh, you have no idea, psychologist."

You swallowed, feeling a flutter of surprise. Your eyes widened slightly, the gentleness in his features unexpected.

Just then, Curtis walked by and caught the tail end of your conversation. “Are you two flirting or fighting?” He teased, winking at his Scouse counterpart.

Your expression didn't change, but Trent looked over, staring at him. “Can’t you tell the difference, mate? Your missus must have a hard time putting up with you.” He remarked a little too quickly.

Curtis' mouth fell open as some of the players snickered at the exchange. To your surprise, Trent let out a genuine laugh - an unfamiliar sound that retained your attention.

He pushed off the wall and ambled over, casually draping an arm over his friend's shoulder.

On another day, maybe you would've joined into the jokes that were being thrown around but you were oddly rendered silent.

His almost playful disposition was a complete contrast to the tension that had clouded your interactions since the day you'd met.

It was almost as if he genuinely believed he was rid of you, and this moment of levity was his way of signalling relief.

You took a deep breath.

The casual banter, although lighthearted, felt jarring. Without another word, you walked out of the canteen, the enigma of his sudden change nagging at you.

As you exited, Trent’s gaze followed you, his eyes tracing your retreating figure. He seemed poised to follow you, a sign of a subtle, perhaps unconscious shift in his stance.

His eyes lingered on your departing form, as if grappling with an unspoken urge to either see where you were going or say something to you, though he wasn't quite sure what.

Yet only as he started to move, Curtis' voice cut through the moment. "Oi, where you off to?" Trent shook his head, a half-smile still playing on his lips as he rejoined the group.

Oddly, his attention remained fixed on the door for just a bit longer, as if expecting you to turn back around, before he fully immersed himself back into the conversation.

…

Part 4

Masterlist

Comment below if you want to be part of the taglist! Once you are part of it, you'll be reminded for every part of the series until its completion!

Taglist: @trentwife @bluebreadenthusiast @julovesurmom @blubsberries @remmysthings @heyjudeb @keepitabuckxx @vivi-grace @hoddystark @hiireadstuff @trentione @missusstark @iamasimpingh0e

[lilithslittleworld]

All For You

A/N: This is my first attempt at writing a Peter Hayes one shot. Personally Four and Peter have always been my favorite male characters and crushes throughout the Divergent series! (Also I know the a GIF is Miles as Vinny but let’s just imagine it’s Peter ;) )

CW: fighting, penetrative sex, oral sex, minor injuries, begging, and praise.

Summary: Peter Hayes and Molly have ended their fwb/fling, leaving Peter all for you. Or at least that's what you hope...

It came as no surprise that when you saw Peter Hayes and Molly arguing loudly in The Pit that their fling had come to an end. The ranking lists were beginning to shift daily, excluding some and including others. The pressure on everyone was clearly visible, even to two ex-Candor childhood friends who had tried to become something more. Knowing how stubborn both of them were, this wouldn't be a private or amicable split.

"I can't believe what a lowlife you've become," Molly hissed, her eyes were dark and dangerous towards Peter.

Peter just smirked and rolled his eyes. "There's nothing lowlife about survival. I'm going to make it in Dauntless, that's why I chose it. Can't say the same about you," he insinuated, causing Molly to turn an even brighter shade of red.

"You stay the fuck away from me," she threatened, cocking her hand back in case her words hadn't been enough.

"Hey!" A voice boomed throughout the walls of The Pit. Eric emerged from the crowd towards the couple, his arms crossed and gaze hard. "Whatever the fuck you two have going on, save it for tomorrows fight. We don't need anymore deaths this week, Abnegation's been on our asses since the last two."

Your eyes shifted over to Tris as he said this, spotting her next to Christina, furrowing her eyebrows at Eric's comment. Tris had stopped mentioning anything of her past faction when Eric had publicly called her out on it, the rest of you took it as a warning as well.

Peter's smirk only grew at Eric's statement, challenging Molly with his gaze. You knew Molly wouldn't stand a chance, as strong as she was. It wasn't a fight you were looking forward to watching but that was something you'd never say aloud.

"Lose the fucking grin, Hayes," Eric warned, walking past both of them. Peter's face flushed red, his eyes a wild mix of excitement and anger. Molly seemed to enjoy his discomfort, laughing in his face before retreating towards the living quarters.

Peter's eyes scanned the crowd that had formed around them, fixating on your own eyes. His gaze made an exciting shiver roll down your spine, his eyes burned into yours with an exhilarating heat.

"What the fuck are you looking at, Stiff?" he shot at you as if you were the only one watching him. You felt your face grow hot and your eyes dropped to the floor below you in embarrassment. Peter shoved past you, whispering something only you could hear.

"Like what you see?" his voice was soft in your ear and his lips were just brushing your hair, sending another shiver along your body. As annoying and problematic Peter Hayes was, you were undeniable attracted to him.

--------

The days went by and Peter continued to show interest in you but had never explicitly made any moves, it was as if he enjoyed teasing you with no promise of it actually turning into something. His fight with Molly hadn't gone as bad as you'd expected, she'd landed a few solid punches but had ultimately lost. Your own fights had improved in comparison to your first weeks in Dauntless but your embarrassment grew, knowing Peter's eyes followed your every move. As you started winning your first fights, however, a glimmer of pride appeared on Peter's face but he said nothing.

Your interactions with him were always filled with sexual tension, yet so subtle that they went by unnoticed by your other fellow Dauntless. The communal showers became one of those tenser interactions. Two days ago, you had tried to shower during one of the weirder hours, knowing there wouldn't be anyone in them. With your towel wrapped tightly, you tiptoed into the bathrooms, freezing at the sound of water running. The sight of Peter's wet body remained in your mind ever since, especially when you saw him. The water trickling down his toned, muscled body, as he ran his fingers through his hair. You hadn't dared to look further below his belly button, luckily you didn't have time to. Your eyes had met, making your head spin and face flush, as you hurried out of the bathrooms, clutching your towel to you.

That night, you imagined him lying in his bed, just a few down from yours, with the image of him naked flashing before you relentlessly. You wondered if, in the depths of the night, he touched himself secretly. There was no way of knowing since there was no source of light and you had never heard anything. Or maybe you hadn't been paying attention...

You also hadn't picked up on the fact that Peter had been stealing glances at you in the mornings when you changed. You were always very careful, being raised in Abnegation had definitely left its mark on you. You always covered your chest with your free arm/hand when it was necessary and made a point of changing your pants seated on your bed. It was uncomfortable and a little awkward but no one had ever really seen anything. Tris had outgrown this habit and you hoped that one day, your own embarrassment would too fade.

One morning, after having practiced aim with Four at the shooting range, Eric called an unarranged fight to the floor. To your horror, he had said both your and Peter's names. You weren't ready to face him but you didn't want to fall below the red line as many others had done. Being factionless was worse than fighting the boy you had a crush on.

"First fight of the day, Peter and y/n," Four called out, eyeing you carefully. You couldn't tell what he was thinking but he gave you a curt nod of encouragement.

You walked up on the mat, taking special consideration to look at the red lines that delimitated the zone. If either of you stepped outside of it, your efforts wouldn't count and you could even lose points. Peter walked up in front of you, stretching slightly before he stopped to stand before you, raising an eyebrow at you playfully, his eyes never leaving yours. Your heart beat rapidly in your chest, your body filled with adrenaline.

"Fight."

Suddenly your arms were up, shielding your face, as you began to circle the ring, Peter's body mimicked yours. He was much larger than you and everyone knew he was the strongest in the group but that didn't scare you. You had picked up ideas when watching Tris fight but your own flexibility would up her game even more. Peter stepped towards you in an attempt to throw a punch but you ducked it in time. You exhaled softly, finally in the mindset that you needed to be in. This time it was you who advanced, with a roundhouse kick to the face.

"Nice, y/n!" you could hear people shouting in the crowd.

Peter's face was red from where you had kicked him but you hadn't done too much damage, which calmed you down vaguely. "Damn, Stiff, didn't know you had it in you," he commented, rubbing his jaw slightly before lunging at you.

Peter's fist made an impact against half of your jaw, your block had been good enough to not let him reach your full face. Now you were angry. Your next hits were fast and uniform, sidekick to the midsection, knife hand strike to the neck, and another punch to the face. Peter's defense struggled but he stayed standing firmly. On your final kick, another high roundhouse to the head, Peter caught your foot, swiping your other leg from below you. The fall knocked the wind out of you, your back crying out in pain. Peter loomed over you, sweat trickling down his face and chest but his eyes were sympathetic.

"What are you doing, Peter? Finish her off!" someone screamed.

Peter kicked you once more before bending down, his back towards the others. You winced as he raised his arm, expecting the worst.

"How about we call it quits?," he whispered, cocking his head to the side before bringing his fist softly to your side, not causing you any pain. He winked at you and your brain quickly pieced everything together. He wanted to put on a show without actually hurting you. It was a game for two and you would have to be a convincing actress. You groaned as he continued to send fake hits your way until Four called it.

"Enough! Peter wins this round," he declared, stepping into the ring and separating Peter from you. You, however, continued to stay in the role of injured opponent, though you actually were in a little pain from the real hits Peter had made at the start.

"Take her back, she's obviously worthless for the rest of today's training," Eric spat, frustrated at the thought of losing two of his best members, "The rest of you, follow me."

Peter lifted you carefully into his arms. "Jesus, Stiff," he said, breathlessly, "I thought I was going to have to kill you, not my favorite activity for a Thursday."

"I could've finished you," you shot back, surprised at your increase in alertness and energy.

"Yeah right," he rolled his eyes, "You're no match for me." God, he was so cocky but he was right.

"You're saying you haven't been staring at me like a proud parent at my recent wins?" you challenged, watching a smirk slowly creep up on his face. He looked down at you, your heart racing at his expression but determined not to break eye contact.

"So, you've been watching me too, huh?" he noted, his ego clearly on fire with the idea of you thinking about him.

Fuck.

You buried your face in his chest to hide the embarrassment that washed over you. So much for your determination. He smelled so good, the mix of cologne and sweat drove you crazy.

"I knew you liked what you saw." That same phrase sent another shiver down your spine and you felt a need for him that was unsatiable.

When you made it back to the quarters, Peter laid you softly in your bed. Fearing the worst, you reached up towards him, tugging on his shirt.

"Stay," you whispered. You were sure that with the way you looked there would be no response. But something snapped inside Peter as you said those words.

"God, I knew you wanted me," he smirked, still standing above you. Slowly, he sat down on the edge of your bed, placing both of his arms on either side of body, hovering above you.

"I do," you blushed, reminded of your feelings after seeing him in the shower. You wanted so badly to see him like that again.

"Well, well, well," he whispered, bringing his lips just centimeters from yours. You could feel the warmth of his breath against your lips and instinctively sat up to reach them. You winced at the pain that shot through your upper body as you tried to kiss Peter. He stopped you instantly.

"I just beat your ass, y/n, I'd stay still if I were you. Either way, you're not in charge here," he said, running his fingers along your cheek, stopping at your chin to tilt it up slightly towards him. You laid back down, obediently, as Peter brought his lips softly down to yours. His lips were soft and warm, moving gently against yours.

You kissed him back eagerly, entwining your fingers in his hair, pulling him closer to you. If it wasn't for the need to breathe, you would've never slowed down your pace. You needed him so badly and he knew it.

Peter smiled against your lips, picking up on your excitement. "Patience," he murmured, biting your lip before pulling away. His teasing was working because you could feel your body getting ready for him and what was to come next. His fingers traced the outline of your collarbone, trailing down to your shoulders and the straps of your tank top.

"Not going to lie, you look hot in these shirts, y/n, but its a little pointless for now. Don't you think?" he questioned, pulling it down, exposing your bare chest. You hated the feel of bras and in this case, it came in handy. Peter's eyes lit up at the sight of you but leaned back in. The kisses were more forceful this time around, your tongues exploring one another, and your breathless gasps were exhaled in each other's mouths.

His hands made their way down to your boobs, this time staying there. Your boobs fit perfectly in his big hands and you couldn't help but look down at the scene before you. He played with your nipples, making you moan into his mouth. He loved this, groaning back in return before abandoning your lips once again. You closed your eyes, taking in all of the sensations, all of Peter. His breath against your boobs, his lips planting soft kisses on them, and finally, his mouth against your hardened nipple. You moaned as he swirled his tongue around it, suckling slightly, causing you to arch your back in pleasure. Peter took advantage and placed his hands on your back, pulling you up towards him carefully.

You straddled him, eye level before he made his way back to your boobs. Watching him drove you crazy, especially when he looked back up at you. He looked so beautiful and the way he handled your body mixed with the sounds he made were unimaginable. You could feel him growing harder from in between your legs and nothing could stop you from softly moving your hips against his.

"Fuck," Peter breathed, placing his hands on your hips, facilitating the movement. His hands guided you, making sure that the friction would hit your clit even under the layers of clothes. He laid you back down, opening your legs and making his way down. Your breath hitched as he toyed with the waistband of your pants, wishing he would just pull them down. And he did, leaving you in your panties.

"I just know you taste so good, Stiff," he murmuredm, bringing his lips down against the bow on your underwear, sending shivers down your body. "Finally, showing some skin." His fingers sloppily began to circle your clit, knowing the indirect contact would drive you even crazier.

"Please," you moaned, unable to contain the growing need inside of you, seeking some sort of release.

"Hmm?" he questioned innocently, as he started to pull down your panties, leaving you fully naked. Normally, you would've felt the impulse to close your legs or at least cover yourself up with something but you needed Peter so badly that you didn't care. Now you were finally getting somewhere with him.

He planted lazy kisses along your inner thighs, stopping just inches away from where you really wanted him. When Peter finally brought his mouth against you, his warm tongue circling your clit, you cried out.

"Yes!" Your hands were in his hair, securing him and his arms were still around either thigh of yours. He looked so beautiful and made you feel everything you'd never felt before. Greedily, he sped up his pace, looking up at you as he did. He loved the way you looked and moved for him. You were just seconds away from your climax and Peter knew this, pulling his mouth away immediately.

"I was so close," you breathed, slightly confused and dazed by the pleasure you had been in just moments ago. Peter laughed, sitting you back up and kissing you passionately. You could taste yourself in his mouth and suddenly the urge to taste him overcame you.

Your hands trailed down his chest, pulling off his shirt in a speedy fury. Now, you ran your hands along his bare, sculpted chest, pausing to feel his heavy breaths under your touch. He was so beautiful and sweaty that your hands made their way to his own waistband. Peter's groan was soft as you did, but you heard it. You continued to take off his pants, running your hands over his hardened cock with just his boxers separating you from it.

"You think you can take me, Stiff?" he mused, his eyes wild with excitement as he awaited your response. God, he was so cocky.

"Obviously," you replied coolly, hoping he wouldn't pick up on your nervousness. Even in his boxers, he looked big but you didn't care. His cock bounced against his stomach as you pulled down the final layer of clothing, the tip glistening with precum. Your mouth watered at the sight of him, fully exposed and before your face.

You brought your lips down lightly against the base, leaving a trail of even gentler kisses as you worked your way up. You were going to tease him the same way he had done to you. He twisted his fingers into your hair in response, his breathing even heavier than before. You continued to give his length long licks, before finally coming in contact with his tip. You let the precum wet your lips before looking up at him as you licked them. Peter groaned at the sight of you and guided your head back down to his throbbing cock. Finally, you placed your lips around him, taking him tentatively into your mouth. You started bobbing your head up and down, swirling your tongue around his head when you could, loving the way he seemed to pull you closer.

"Fuck," Peter moaned, throwing his head back as you continued to go down on him. He tasted heavenly and your own body craved him inside of you.

"I need to be inside of you," he breathed, reading your mind as he laid you back down, placing his arms on either side of you to hover over you once again.

"Want you inside of me," you cooed, looking down at the sight unfolding before you. Peter guided himself to your entrance, rubbing his cock up and down your slit before going in.

"It's all for you," he whispered, pushing himself inside of you. You moaned as he stretched you out, taking a few deep breaths as you adjusted to his size, as he waited patiently for you to give him the 'okay'. You nodded and Peter began to pick up the pace, moving his hips gracefully against you. He felt even better than you had imagined inside of you and he looked even better. The sweat that had trickled down his face had fallen down on you, you wanted so badly to lick it.

"You feel so good, baby," Peter mumbled, looking down at the sight of you taking his cock. He loved the way you played your boobs, seeking further stimulation. Noticing this, Peter brought a finger back down against your clit, picking up the same pace he had down with his tongue just minutes before.

"Yes, just like that," you cried out, so filled with pleasure that was emerging from everywhere. Peter's groaned at your words, picking up his own pace.

"Tell me how good I make you feel," he said between breaths, you knew he was just minutes away from cumming, and you too, were approaching your own orgasm for a second time.

"S-so good," you breathed, your eyes fluttering as you tried to concentrate on the moment, "You're going to make me cum."

"Yeah? Cum for me, princess," he encouraged, his hips slapping against you in combination with the circles against your sensitive bud that made you come undone. Your back arched in pleasure, hands gripping Peter's hair as you came hard, your walls contracting around him. He helped you ride out your orgasm as his was quickly approaching.

"Gonna cum," he mumbled between moans, as he too, came undone above you. Peter had pulled out from inside of you and was now pumping his twitching cock before you. You watched, mesmerized as his warm seed shot out onto your belly, his chest rising and falling at a heavenly pace.

"Mmmm," you murmured, as he fell into your arms, burying his face in your chest in exhaustion.

"Damn, Stiff. Didn't think you had it in you," he confessed breathlessly, winking playfully at you as you stroked his sweaty hair.

"You have been on my mind, Hayes. If that wasn't obvious enough," you teased, smiling at the thought of your fantasy having actually happened.

[theminecraftbee]

actually, out of the tags and further explanation: so I actually REALLY LOVE that mcc is like, canonizing making predictions about game and event winners like this, as well as making stats more accessible and explicitly part of the game like this.

the thing is—okay so I know stats are blamed for a lot of what’s wrong with mcc fandom but stats are FUN. sports predictions are FUN. being kind of competitive about sports predictions is FUN. have you ever done an ncaa bracket with your family. or played fantasy baseball. or fantasy football. or hell, have you watched a jon bois video that’s actually some of his sports writing. FUN, RIGHT? and stats are a really common way for a sports/competition fan to engage with their hobby, so like, there is no avoiding “people will try to make mcc predictions” and “people will stat out the teams” and “people will be competitive about those predictions”, it’s one of the most common modes of the sports fan, it’s an accessible form of engagement even when the team you are personally a fan of isn’t in the game (because you can be temporarily a fan of the one you’ve decided to gamble on winning), and it’s not gonna go away.

(the actual stakes of gambling aren’t required and I actually do not recommend outside of like, you get a stupid gold plastic trophy from a friend, do not get involved in sports gambling it’s a predatory industry and there is basically no “safe” threshold there, I am talking more about the inherent fun of “getting competitive about your team winning”.)

the problem has in the past been that players see it and get placed under pressure/upset/etc about it, because unlike Sports, the mcc players have very direct lines of interaction with their fandom. it’s VERY EASY to take a prediction as an attack, especially when combined with competitiveness, which is why I think a lot of people suggest forbidding talking about stats or tiers, getting rid of stats, etc.

but the thing is that won’t work. for one, it’s removing one of the biggest sports fan modes of engagement and therefore removing your own fandom. but also people aren’t going to NOT do stats! like, even the players will probably start keeping track of stats if stats were removed! so the solution instead needs to be to make stats more individual, to remove some of the pressure of the stats, and to lean into the stuff about it that makes it FUN.

therefore: the kudos system and predictions. it’s not trying to get rid of the inevitable fandom interaction, it’s embracing it, but it’s doing it in a way that removes pressure from players.

for example, note that the kudos have a focus on personal bests! this encourages players to compete but means even “lower-tier” players will probably get them! at the same time, by globally sharing overall records, it continues to celebrate and encourage great performances! plus, by making some of the stats really stupid, it both gives statheads NEW things to focus on that aren’t coins—the punching statistic for example is gonna be so fun—removing some of the pure pressure to perform in score alone and the centralization of discussion around it—and also gives players silly records to aim for if they aren’t the kind of player who’d aim for a more “traditional” high score.

as for the predictions, they’re gonna do two things. first, it embraces “yeah the community loves doing predictions” by adding a competitive aspect to it—can you beat the odds and predict who will win everything? the wordle-like ability to copy/paste how you did at the end of the event is truly genius because it makes it SUPER EASY to share and discuss for even casual fans. it will increase engagement and discussion. it’ll ALSO help demonstrate to players, by showing the percentage of correct predictions on screen, how… inaccurate… predictions often are. sure, you can guess who the better players and teams will be, but as anyone who did sexyman knows, single-round games can have upsets. and it celebrates those upsets! it turns it from “no one believed in us” (sad) to “we were the underdogs hell yeah look at us go!”

anyway as someone who likes engaging with sports and competitions by being a little competitive and watching the stories the numbers tell: I adore these changes FANTASTIC changes they’re gonna be so fun day-of let’s go mcc,