#LIKE THERE'S A POINT TO BE KEPT IN MIND WHEN FIGURING THE MYSTERY OUT CONSUMES PEOPLE!!! OR GET INTO DUMB ASS DOOMWORLD FORUM ARGUMENTS!!!!

[syrinq]

me getting into the rabbit hole that is video documentaries about real life shit then somehow landing onto the 6 million viewed video about myhouse.wad at 1am then going further until i'm past wonderland and wanting to fucking scream about myhouse.wad but not because of the interpreted story in the .pk3 itself or that happiness line but rather about the surrounding narrative and the fucking irony of people on doomworld losing their fucking mind about it being all a set up and parody/retelling of house of leaves and getting lost in the meta of meta and bringing up the debate of "are games art" and "the morality of creation/fiction" for the zillionth time that my stupid ass brain all thinks up with in 1 second at 5am like i have grown 5,000,000 stem cells for my head

[pizzabox-box]

There was a mysterious door appearing somewhere, surrounded by dark, pulsating shadows. The door itself looked old and rotting, with moldy pizza crust framing its edges. Peppi-no entered the door into the long, empty hallways and dead ends that lead nowhere, with crumbling walls and floors that looked like they hadn't been touched in years.

The further Peppi-no went, the more the environment decayed, walls covered in strange, black goo, everything's cracking and falling away into an abyss below. After moments, Peppi-no arrived at a large room. In the center was a giant pizza, but it was rotten and moldy, its surface covered in a sickly green slime, with many flies flying on it like they did on the Doise's corpse.

Peppi-no stood trembling, as if frozen in place. Soon, the pizza's surface split open, revealing a grotesque face beneath the layers of moldy cheese. Its eyes were empty, black holes that seemed to stare directly at him, it let out a guttural moan. Peppi-no's face stretched, his mouth opening unnaturally wide, his eyes bulging out of their sockets. The giant moldy pizza's voice was a deep, distorted whisper, like it was coming from somewhere far away. He blames Peppi-no for his issues and misery caused from his devourment of the real Peppino and takes his form, saying that he's not the real Peppino and is not worthy of taking his pizza place, among other unpleasant things.

The pizza's face began to melt, thick, green sludge dripping from its mouth and eyes. The walls of the room started to close in on Peppi-no, the black goo from earlier seeping in and consuming everything in its path.

The story idea is based on jumpman animatic's Pizza Tower creepypasta "The Rotten Slice". You can see his creepypasta video here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lzpoKXB8Vi0

BOUND BY GUILT

Stepping through the door, Peppi-no found himself in a place not so different from his restaurant back in the tower. Seeing the bizarre surroundings and the infinite black void below he figured out this is simply one of many nightmares he had before. Regardless, he kept moving forward, watching as his surroundings became more and more disjointed with every step.

Eventually, he arrived in a large, open room—and froze. A giant pizza lays before him, rotten and moldy, its surface covered in a sickly green slime. Before the incident, he wouldn't have hesitated to take a bite out of it, but now it made his stomach turn in disgust. Not that he had a stomach, exactly, it was more of a multipurpose internal pocket,but we're getting distracted. The point still stands. This was the second most revolting thing he ever had to look at, only surpassed by the gory sight of a headless body.

As the pizza's surface split open, Peppi-no let his face distort into a grotesque version of itself, a defensive maneuver meant to scare away any would-be attackers. He expected the usual reversal of roles or a storm of words meant to discourage him from his future attempts at impersonating the person he had killed. And he was right. The pizza began to speak, it's voice deep , shaking Peppi-no's being to it's very core. Despite his best efforts to block out the words, a small part of Peppi-no knew that this was what he deserved.

But then, when the pizza took the form of Peppino, green ooze leaking out of the figure's eyes and mouth, something inside Peppi-no shifted. This was different. The room began to collapse onto itself, it's walls black and gooey.

As the black goo threatened to swallow Peppi-no whole, he realized that this wasn't just another one of his usual nightmares. There was someone,or something, different behind this one. With no clear way out, he fought fiercely against the gooey black walls closing in on him. But in the mindscape, physical strength means nothing,what matters is willpower. And Peppi-no, clouded by doubt and fear, was quickly overpowered by the oppressive mass coming at him from all sides. He could feel himself succumbing to the rot, his mind being breached, his senses slipping away.

"Hey! This idiot is mine to haunt. Scram !"

Another entity entered the scene, and with surprising ease, overpowered the attacking entity, throwing it off into the infinite horizon. Not sure how, but this is the mindscape we're talking about, real life logic, doesn't apply here. An eerie silence filled the space. The darkness surrounding Peppi-no felt different now, clearer, dotted with faint stars, almost like a night sky.

"Would you believe these phantoms? I look away for one second, and one of them's already trying to take over my job. Unbelievable..."

The ghost's form resembling a more lifelike figure, though with some distortions in place of his head.

But before Peppi-no could come up with a response, the Dead Man realized he's chit-chatting with the monster that had killed him. He froze for a moment, and an almost awkward silence echoed through the vast black void as the two entities, suspended in the inky darkness, tethered together by a single blood-red string, stared at each other.

Without uttering another word the ghosts form shifted into something more fitting for a haunting, his head glitching out, his blood-red eyes laser-focused on Peppi-no's very soul. Peppi-no had just escaped from one phantom's grasp, only to find himself at the mercy of an equally terrifying, vengeful, but familiar ghost. The Dead Man's glare alone filled Peppi-no with immense guilt. Peppi-no braced himself once more for what's to come.

But before they could get to it, the well known sound of his alarm snapped him back to the material world, signaling the end of this night’s series of nightmares, mostly consisting of reliving the moments from the perspectives of those he had hurt. He didn’t have time to think too deeply about his encounter, he had a restaurant to run, friends to meet, and an act to put up...

====

Read the story, got a inspired by it and carried away. I can see this being canon to the DMW AU as one of the many nightmares Peppi-no experienced. I imagine This takes place sometime before DMW part I. comic.

[nomoreusername]

Together (Part 2)

Pairing:Brenda x female reader

Summary:After Brenda and Thomas kiss, you think it's too late for her to be your girl.

Standing at the door of some weird club, we all glanced between each other as the guy held out the admission fee. A bottle of some strange looking and smelling concoction. 

"Why do we need this to get in?"I asked.

"Don't worry about it. Do you want in or not?"

"We do, but this is just weird. Can't we just go in without having to drink this mystery stuff?"I suggested.

"Everyone has to pay the price,"He said with a smug grin that sent chills down my spine. There was just something about him in general that made me uneasy. Even if he wasn't technically forcing us to drink this concoction I would probably still be avoiding him at all costs. He just had so many red flags, and we didn't even know his name.

"This is our only chance,"Brenda reminded us, accepting the bottle. Taking a large sip, she then made a face when she passed it to Thomas who did the exact same before giving it to me.

Calling this ridiculous in my head but knowing that there was no other option, I started drinking, feeling an instant burn in my throat. There was an unnatural amount of flavors, so many that I couldn't even name one. My entire mouth was on fire as it consumed my taste buds until they could be gone and I wouldn't even notice. 

Putting it down, I resisted the urge to cough as I handed it to the lady next to me.

"Great. Come in, come in, and enjoy the party,"the guy urged in a way that only made the alarm bells louder. As he pushed us inside of the club though, I knew that it was too late to turn back.

"We need to split up. We'll find him quicker,"Brenda recommended.

"How will we find each other again?"I pointed out.

"We just will, but we have to go. We're running out of time,"She reasoned. Glancing at Thomas, we both nodded before going in different directions.

Squeezing through the crowd of bodies, I wondered how anyone could be into whatever this is. Well, I mean, disturbing is one word for it. With the bright and sparkly yet gloomy outfits and makeup, these people looked like they were losing themselves. If they're here on their own free will though, they must be. That, or they had lost all hope. Not that either of those were ideal.

Squinting my eyes, I attempted to get the glitter out of them only to feel nothing there. Bumping into people, I tried to figure out what was going on as pretty colors blurred my vision. Even the music seemed to be something that wasn't real.

With my breathing getting heavy, I kept forcing my mind to discover what was happening. Still stumbling through all the partiers, I ended up falling to the floor. Getting on my knees, I took a moment as I tried to figure out how to stand. Then, seeing as I was surrounded by all these arms that reminded me of vines for some reason, I used them to pull myself up, leaning against someone as I tried to recall why I was even here.

Still looking through these people, I saw two familiar faces in the middle of these place. My Brenda and that new guy.

As I was about to call to her she had her arms around his shoulders before they crashed their lips together. It was like a car accident was taking place right in front of me as I tried to look away but couldn't figure out how.

Me.

She's supposed to be kissing me.

New guy stole my girl. I mean she wasn't my girl, but she's still my girl, you know?

My girl, my girl, my girl. That's my girl. That should be my girl.

Glaring at them with everything I had, as I went to stumble towards them I found myself lying on the floor. This time though, I didn't know how to get up.

♡ - - - ♡

Seeing light shine through my eyelids, I swore that I was dead until I felt a hand rubbing circles on my shoulder. Forcing my eyes open, I looked at the sun beaming with all its might. Then, I looked at Brenda who had my head in her lap. 

Then, I glanced at Thomas and gained the appetite for murder and the urge to cry.

"Hey,"She greeted, pulling me back to her.

"Hi,"I whispered, not looking her in the eye as I felt shame flow through my very blood. Brenda did nothing wrong. Thomas did nothing wrong. Brenda isn't my girl, and if they have feelings for each other there's nothing that I can do about it.

"You okay?"

"Yeah,"I lied. "Where am I?"I added, sitting up to see that I was in the back of a car with just us three.

"We're going to Right Arm,"She answered.

"Oh. That's nice,"I mumbled.

"I thought that you'd be more excited. You've been talking about this for months."

"I am excited." 

Just mad that I didn't kiss you before Thomas did.

"Oh,"She muttered, letting me know that I had just said my not at all platonic thoughts aloud. Staring at the seat of the car, I felt my face heat up. "You saw that?"She asked slowly.

"Yeah. I did."

"But you didn't hear anything, did you?"

"Why would I want to?"

"Because,"She started, placing her hand on my cheek and turning me so that I was facing her, "you would have heard me point out that he wasn't who I was supposed to be kissing. Because he isn't you."

"Oh,"was all I got out as she stared at me.

"So if you're not too mad, would you kiss me now?"

Not having the ability to speak, I just pressed my lips against hers to silently say yes. Putting her arms around my shoulders, she lightly kissed back, smiling against my lips as she did. Just like that, nobody and nothing else was real. The world was only us because we are all we need. We always have been, and I swear that she was telling me all this from the way she fit me so perfectly, as if we were actually made for each other. 

I wish that I never had to breathe. I wish that I never had to pull away and break our moment.

But I do, so against my will, I did.

"So you're my girl now?"She asked in a way that said she already knew the answer but wanted to hear it out loud.

"Yes. I am,"I promised anyway.

Because I had waited so long to say it.

[mer-acle]

Okay I have a bit of more time now so some ramble about alisha's mortal side of the family. Ig.

Firstly this all happened bc of a show called psych. I watched this back in january bc my mutual kept talking about it and it seemed nice. And since I was getting into pjo back then (big mistake I never should have consumed two medias together) I had a though of what would these people think about a demigod -> what if henry had a demigod child -> henry having a daughter from athena -> the first thought about alisha. And here we are. Yey. Nearly a year later.

Anyway about psych. Shawn pretends to be psychic so he can solve murders with the police department. His father his very annoyed but he is also very proud hehe. Shawn and his best friend Gus are in this secret together and I kid you not it is so hilarious. Those two share one braincell. Its questionable if they use it tho.

Shawn is the "doesnt take responsibilities" kinda person and he def has daddy issues hshsh. A menace for sure. He also has adhd (canon!!) I feel like he would be very thrown of by being an older brother out of nowhere and would be very lost. So ofc I had to give him a traumatized little sister. Also that man would not know about the greek myths so he's like athena??? Who is that? Meanwhile poor gus is like. THE GODDESS??? (he is a nerd and he def knows this stuff)

Honestly Gus and Shawn's friendship is so fucking good and I was like. Oh poor alisha she sees luke and herself in them :(((

The show starts in 2006 and goes on for quite a few years. I am not a hundred percent sure on how I'm gonna handle it but I'll probably pick a handful of eps I like and handle alisha's traumas bit by bit. (Baby is finally healing!!) But one things for sure. Alisha is going to go to there after the last olympian. I need to finish the war first. Oooh and she is 21 here.

I don't have a lot scenes in my mind and they arent set in stone yet but alisha cames looking for her birthfather, she wants to know why he left her, does she have more family, does she want to have a relationship with him etc. She meets with shawn first tho.

There is a lot of shenenigans there but in the end alisha ends up working for their fake company (she solves murders with them as an assistant) bc she and shawn but find the other very mysterious and are like "wtf is their deal??" (Alisha figures out shawn isnt a real psychic or a child of apollo three minutes in. She just needs to figure out why he is doing this) (shawn is going to take a bit longer I'm afraid) but alisha does mention she is here to find her birthfather so the idiots are like. Hey we can help you with that. So they, against alisha's protests, pretend to be a gay couple that adopted alisha and are helping her find her parentage. (They would do this btw. Gus has complaints too but at this point he is too deep in shsshsh) they do find some stuff but alisha finds her father when they visit shawn's dads house bc shawn needed help from him or sth. There is just this uncomfortable dinner.

Sigh. I have a lot of logistics to plan here. Fuck me. Ew. Ooooh also. One of shawn's coworkers, Lassie, hates shawn's ass so bad bc shawn does nothing but get on his nerves. When he realizes there is another spencer he regrets all his life choices. Poor guy.

Sorry me late

Lol I didn't think there was a crossover. It kinda explains why I felt like "Eve thinks I know them why does she think I know them?" Lmao

I have never seen psych lol

I already love Shawn and Alisha

Also the genre shift is awesome Alisha needs a war break lol

Poor Lassie lmao

[stories-of-the-strange]

Hunger

Story submitted by Alexandra Harvey on February 10th, 1999.

I hunger. Deep within me, I feel it. The urge to indulge my animal self despite my attempts to discipline it.

You cannot help me. Nobody here can. Nobody can no matter who or where they are, no matter what they do. But maybe my suffering is worth something. A sacrifice for the greater good. I will die. I hope it will come soon. I hope that before I die I can try and explain-no not explain, tell you, what happened. What is happening.

Maybe I will be useful before I die. Maybe. I doubt it. But maybe helping someone here solve some sort of mystery, figure out what happened to me, who did this to me and what the hell is wrong with me will make me at least somewhat useful.

I´m sorry if this feels… disjointed. I will try to make it make sense, impossible as it is.

I have not been sleeping well. I have barely been sleeping at all, in fact. Within a few hours at best I will always wake up, deprived of sugar, shaking, disorientated, my head spinning. And my stomach begging me to feed it. No. No not begging. Begging implies that it is weak and I am giving it something out of mercy or pity or compassion. It´s moreso an order that I cannot help but fulfill.

Do you believe me? I wonder if you believe me. I do not think you believe me. Sitting behind your computer, snacking on some salty, fat-laden food while I desperately just want to stop typing and find something, anything to satisfy me.

But I cannot. I will fail. I have not been truly full in almost a week now. At least I think it was a week. So I must type and write my story here. In vain hope someone will believe me, and care enough to actually figure out what happened to me. To stop her from hurting more people.

I live in a small house in Bullhead City. I have no money to pay the bills with anymore, however. I spent all of it on food a while ago. No job anymore either. My house is a barren, lifeless thing. It was not always like that mind you. It used to be a place of life, of fertility and of growth. But then I consumed it all. I did not enjoy it. The life I had spent years cherishing and nurturing, ripped from it´s earthen home by my own hands. Reduced to only fibre and sugar. It did not taste good either. Perhaps it could have if I had bothered to cook it. But it has been a long time since I have had the concentration or patience necessary to prepare a meal.

Have you heard of philodendron? I ate mine. It felt like chewing on tiny, pointed blades. My tongue and throat swelled and sagged inside of me. I deserved it. Maybe I deserved everything that happened to me. Despite it, I kept eating. It was painful, oh so awfully painful, trying to squeeze anything more than air down my throat. But despite vomiting several times, I always managed to force it.

It´s the pills. Little pink pills. I do not know when exactly I started taking them. Time is such an elusive thing. I know how long the last hour took, I think. But if you were to ask me how long an hour took last month, I wouldn´t be able to tell you how long ago that was.

I stopped taking them a while ago. Not because I had regained self-control from my addiction, no of course not. I simply indulged too deeply. I took all of them at once. It felt better than anything can describe.

They aren´t the cause anyhow. They were just… a catalyst, I think. I do not know when the hunger started, but I know it was a time before the pills. I fed the hunger inside me by not feeding myself. I was proud of it. Of the white chain that I had used to bind it, and tame the urge to eat. Now it controls me. Something inside of me hungers.

I got the pills from a blonde woman calling herself Victoria. We met near Sam´s Club. She looked to be in her 50s, judging by the slight wrinkling on her face. But she had the body of a goddess. A body I craved, and she offered to me. To wear as my own. To wear my perfect self, as she put it.

I wonder why we met there. I think I found an ad in a magazine. Whenever I think of her, the word „allure“ springs to my mind. I know she told me I would starve no longer. Or did I read that in the ad? Probably neither. It may have just been an imagining, a hopeful fever dream. What if all of it was? What if Victoria was just some spectre, a phantom of my own making?

How did I find the pills then? I know they were real. I know their taste. They were hard and bitter and they would drain the moisture from my tongue when I took them. I took to swallowing them as quickly as possible. But they were filling. I think the first few managed to make me feel full for days.

I know Victoria is real too. She was unassuming from afar, just a slim woman in an floral-pattern sundress on a hot Arizona day. But I can distinctly remember her being… more, somehow. More than I saw, and could only begin to truly feel the power of. If you or I are real, she certainly is. More real than either of us, actually.

I know she gave me the pills and that I accepted them. But I do not exactly remember why. We didn´t know eachother, so why would I trust her? I didn´t. I probably never trusted her one bit but was just desperate for a way out. Out of a life spent hungry. If I had only known what the word desperation meant back then.

Maybe the ad was on the TV instead? Sometimes there was a blonde host on the news who would say strange things. But things I wanted to hear. That I was doing a good job, only had to last a few more weeks, and where to find more food to do so. And I found that the things she said were always true.

It was her who told me about this website. She told me the people here would help me. I think she lied. In hindsight she probably lied about a great many things too. You will not help me, nobody will. Nobody can. You do not want to. You will read this and scratch your chin and ponder and cross-reference and by the time I am dead and rotting you probably still won´t know half of the full truth.

[wonusite]

The Only Exception

❝ Your university’s star football player doesn’t understand why you don’t want anything to do with him. Several humiliating rejections later, Mingyu is more determined than ever to change your mind about him. Chaos and confusing feelings ensue. ❞

pairing: kim mingyu x female reader

genre: college au, jock au, fluff, smut

word count: 6.4k

warnings: jock!gyu, art major!reader, rich girl!reader, protective bestie!cheol (lowkey he’s kind of a cockblock but we luv him anyway), big dick!gyu, mingyu is an absolute SIMP, reader likes to play hot and cold, pining, nude portraits, drinking, praising, begging, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, multiple creampies, overstimulation, pussy drunk!gyu, cock drunk!reader

a/n: the biggest thanks to hoe nonny for coming up with this brilliant idea. minors dni!!!

There’s not a lot that can hurt Mingyu’s pride.

As a tall, handsome guy (who also happens to be an extremely likable star athlete), he doesn’t have much to be insecure about. But now, as he’s staring at perhaps the prettiest girl he’s ever laid his eyes on, he feels like he’s been knocked down several pegs.

It all started when he heard your name in the locker room. If Mingyu thought about it clearly, that’s exactly when he became invested in you without knowing what you even looked like. It’s not like he could be entirely blamed since you had rejected the entire offensive line plus the running back and wide receiver—a.k.a two of his closest friends.

Maybe he should’ve just minded his own business when he heard Seokmin’s loud laughter, but he didn’t. He had to see what was funny enough for that infectious laughter to overpower most of the noise in the locker room.

Apparently, both Chan and Soonyoung had been rejected by some art major who didn’t care that they were easy on the eyes and beasts on the field. Normally, Mingyu wouldn’t care so much about some unknown girl, but his interest was piqued when he found out you had some sort of aversion not only to football players, but to all jocks. No one could figure out why you had such a disinterest in guys who played sports, and that mystery had been the topic of the team’s locker room talk for weeks.

To say it was odd for Mingyu to become fixated with someone he hadn’t even seen was an understatement, but again, it was impossible not to when so many of his friends kept talking about you like you were an untouchable being. Which he would come to find out was next to true.

Mingyu isn’t sure why he feels the need to prove that he can pull you. Maybe he likes the vindication of being perceived as this heartthrob with infinite charm, or maybe he liked the picture of you that Chan had showed him a little too much. Either way, he feels very confident about his ability to woo you.

This confidence doesn’t falter even when Seokmin points you out at the crowded party his frat is hosting. Mingyu has to take a second to compose himself because your photos do not do you justice. You’re decked out in a designer crop top and a tiny little skirt that barely covers your ass, and man, he’s never wanted to be sandwiched between two thighs more than he does now.

“Maybe you should save yourself the embarrassment and give your attention to a girl who actually wants it.” Seokmin says as they watch you take a shot with the captain of the cheer team.

Mingyu only scoffs at his friend and tells him to watch how it’s done before he walks to where you are.

“Hey.” His voice comes out smooth and suave, as usual. “I’m Mingyu.”

A foreign feeling consumes him when you turn around and set your pretty eyes on him. The usual heat and interest he gets from girls isn’t there, and it throws him off a bit. You only nod at him and offer a halfhearted nice to meet you before turning your back to him. To say Mingyu is absolutely flustered and at a loss for words is an understatement. Even the girl by your side can’t seem to believe that you don’t care for Mingyu’s attention.

“Um,” she nervously plays with her necklace when she notices Mingyu has no intention of leaving. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom.”

You roll your eyes and turn to the beefy jock with a sigh. It’s not like he isn’t one of the most attractive guys you’ve ever seen, but you know his type. After spending all of high school dating jocks, you were pretty much over them. This fine specimen of a man wasn’t going to change your mind about it, either.

Mingyu sees a pretty frown lining your lips and all he wants to do is kiss it off. He licks his lips and clears his throat before trying again. “I’m the quarterback of—”

“Our school’s football team. I know.” You finish for him. “I’ve seen you play. You’re really good.”

It’s a compliment, he knows it is, but the dismissal in your voice makes it seem like you couldn’t be any more unimpressed.

“Do you want to take a shot with me?” He asks after a beat of awkward silence.

You tilt your head in contemplation. With a smile that all but screams rejection, you gently shake your head. “I’m good—”

Before you could finish, a deep voice cuts you off.

“No, she doesn’t.”

Mingyu furrows his eyebrows when he sees one of the point guards of the basketball team come out of no where to step between you two with a mean glare on his face. Choi Seungcheol is looking at him like he’s two seconds away from throttling him. A million and one questions are running through his mind because from what he’d heard, you did not get with jocks, but clearly, there was something more between you and the guy who’s looking like he’s about to commit a crime.

“My bad, bro. She didn’t mention she had a boyfriend.”

“She doesn’t, but that doesn’t give you the right to be a creep.”

At this point Mingyu feels like he’s in some sort of alternate universe where he’s become the ugly duckling because what the fuck? He can’t even say anything as Seungcheol tugs you away, but not before giving him one last vaporizing glare.

“Bye, Mingyu!” You call over your shoulder with a wave.

He doesn’t know if your friendly farewell makes him feel better or worse.

Mingyu spends the rest of his night—the rest of his week, really—thinking about you. No wonder his teammates couldn’t stop talking about you after you rejected them. The way you made your casual disinterest seem like a biting rejection was jarring, and he’d never experienced anything like it before.

Honestly, it’s probably why he can’t seem to get rid of this need to win you over. He’s probably lost his damn mind, but it feels kind of nice that you didn’t immediately throw yourself at his feet. And so, Mingyu decides that he’ll be the exception for the no jock thing you have going on.

Because he feels so confident of his ability to change your mind, he underestimates how hard getting close to you will actually be.

Every time he sees you, that stupid point guard is by your side. Mingyu can’t come within two feet of you because Seungcheol is always there to drag you away or straight up tell him to go away. It’s so frustrating to him because all he wants is a chance to talk to you, and the more he’s prevented from doing so, the more he feels this unrelenting need to.

And he does finally get that chance, but it doesn’t exactly go the way he plans.

Mingyu usually hates going to grab coffee for his frat members because they’re all so picky for no reason. Soonyoung is the worst of them all, always whining when he unintentionally gets the orders wrong. Now, he’s made sure to ask the group chat to send in their exact orders just as he’s stepping in line.

It’s nothing short of amazing that Mingyu manages to balance nine coffees in his hands. It would’ve been even more amazing if he had actually managed to make it out of the door with them.

As soon as he starts to walk away, he missteps and is flung forward with enough force to spill the drinks on some unsuspecting person. Unfortunately for him, it’s not just any person, it’s the person, and he’s really at a loss.

“Oh my god.”

The stressed words don’t even come from you, rather from your horrified friend, Boo Seungkwan. And Mingyu can’t really blame him because you’re literally wearing a white bodysuit.

“Sorry—Sorry!” Mingyu splutters, feeling like his face is on fire.

What he hates is that you don’t actually react like any other person would. You only give him a look that’s a mixture of pity and amusement.

“It’s Céline!” His appalled voice squeaks. “Céline!”

Because his heart is beating so harshly in his ears, Mingyu misunderstands Seungkwan’s words. “I-I can explain to your friend what happened—I’ll even pay for the dry cleaning!”

Then something unexpected happens.

You laugh.

It’s the prettiest sound he’s ever heard, and he almost feels like his humiliation is worth it. Almost.

“What? What are you going on about? I’m talking about Céline—the brand. AKA the clothes she’s wearing right now. They’re worth like—”

“It’s fine.” You say as Seungkwan hands you a fistful of napkins. “It was an accident. Let’s just go.”

Mingyu looks at you in wonder while your friend only looks at you incredulously. It’s not like you were the materialistic type (despite being a trust fund baby), but you were acting too calm for Seungkwan’s taste. He eyes you suspiciously before scoffing. The look you have in your eyes is annoyingly familiar.

“Fine.” He says before he lowers his voice as he leans into your ear. “I know he’s cute, but come on! Look at your outfit!”

The flustered boy isn’t at quiet as he thinks, and Mingyu would’ve felt flattered, but again, you gave no reaction. Not one he wanted, anyway. You only rolled your eyes and frowned at your friend. “Shut up!” You hissed. “He’s not my type. I just feel bad for him.”

And you do, but you feel more sorry for yourself because you know you won’t have enough time to go back home and change before your next class. You finish blotting the the wet stain on your chest before you dig inside your purse. Mingyu notices the flashy bag is also from a designer brand, and for a moment he fears that you’re going to make him pay for your clothes. He wonders if you’ll take pity on him because he obviously can’t afford to pay for it.

Or maybe you’d agree to a payment plan.

When you hand him several large bills and tell him to buy more coffees before walking away, he thinks he’d rather pay for your clothes. At least that way he wouldn’t have to feel the biting feeling of your disregard.

After the embarrassing encounter, Mingyu is quick to find out everything there is to know about you (well as much as your reserved self has been willing to put out, anyway). After stalking all your social media accounts and asking around, he finds out you’re a rich girl from the other side of the country that is fairly new around the area. Also, it’s quite clear to everyone that you have a self-appointed body guard by the name of Choi Seungcheol—who apparently has known you since high school.

Aside from the fact that you’re an art major, Mingyu doesn’t know what kind of things you’re into. This wouldn’t normally faze him so much, but with you he obviously has to count on something other than his looks and status in order to get to know you in the way he wants.

By the grace of some higher power, Mingyu finally gets his chance when he drops his marketing class to transfer into a web design course.

The first thing he notices when he walks into the lecture hall is a pretty designer bag with it’s even prettier owner digging through it. Mingyu doesn’t notice the large smile that breaks out into his face, but the people around him certainly do.

“Hi, Y/N.”

You look up just as your hand wraps around your favorite lip gloss. It’s very ironic how your heart stutters at the sight of the six foot something jock standing over you despite being so adamant in denying your growing attraction to him. To be fair, Kim Mingyu is so insanely attractive that it’s only a natural human response to feel a little heat at the sight of him. You’re quick to school your expression as you offer him a greeting in return.

Mingyu’s smile doesn’t falter even as you ignore him to apply the sparkly lip gloss that makes your lips look much more irresistible than they already do. “Is this seat taken?”

You don’t look away from the small mirror in your hand. As much as you’d like to lie to him, you know it won’t get him to leave you alone. “No.”

It’s not a big win, but a win nonetheless. Mingyu is quick to slide into the chair beside yours, already exuding major golden retriever energy. You have to hide your smile because this large guy is too cute for his own good. You doubt he even knows it.

“Listen… I’m really sorry I spilled coffee on you the other day. Let me make it up to you—”

“It’s just clothes.” You tell him sincerely. “And you already said sorry, so we’re cool.”

Of course it’s not the response he’s looking for, but it is a way in. Mingyu grins at you. “So, friends?”

It would’ve been easy to tell him that you have all the friends you need, but something inside you refuses to be the one to wipe that stupidly endearing grin off his face. So you purse your lips and reluctantly nod, fighting a smile when the giant next to you visibly brightens at your response.

You ignore the jerk in your chest and pretend that you don’t feel like you’ve just signed a deal with the devil.

“Seungkwan says you’re this close to fucking Kim Mingyu.”

You look up from your phone to see less than a centimeter of space between Seungcheol’s thumb and index finger. He’s raising one of his prominent brows at you, silently demanding an explanation. The expression on his face would’ve been funny to you if you didn’t feel so called out. Which is insane because there’s literally nothing going on between you and the stupidly endearing jock who has taken to following you around.

“Seungkwan has the perception of a fucking ant.”

Your words sound like moronic nonsense even to you, but it’s your only line of defense right now. If you slipped up even the slightest bit, then your best friend would know that you kind of sort of felt attracted to Mingyu.

“Yeah? Then why is he lurking around here like he’s just waiting for me to leave?” Seungcheol nods toward the tall jock who’s trying very hard to be inconspicuous but is failing miserably.

It’s physically painful for you to be so endeared by Mingyu. Especially when you notice that he has two coffees in his hands. You’re sure Seungcheol notices this too, but luckily for you he doesn’t comment on it. Instead he’s only giving you that inquisitive stare that he gets when he’s about to force an answer out of you.

“I don’t know!” You lie like you’re not aware that Mingyu is waiting for you so you two can walk to class together. “Who cares about that, anyway? You still haven’t given me an answer about helping out in my figure sculpture class.”

This is enough to get Cheol to get off the Mingyu thing and turn bright red. “I’m not posing nude for a bunch of strangers! I don’t even know why you feel so comfortable with potentially drawing… all of me.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. I think you forget that I’m the one who cleaned you up at Vernon’s graduation party.”

Seungcheol grimaces but doesn’t try to refute your words. Instead he tells you he’ll be by after your class and leaves quickly. Belatedly, you realize he still didn’t give you a straight answer.

“What’s wrong?”

You don’t realize you’re scowling until you see the frown on Mingyu’s own face. The genuine concern always has your stupid heart acting up like it’s about to jump out of your chest and into the jock’s grasp.

“Nothing. Seungcheol’s just the ultimate meanie.” You say as he silently hands you the coffee that’s meant for you. “But you know all about that.”

Mingyu offers you a laugh because it’s true. There’s a reason he kept a distance whenever he saw your best friend was around. He’s just happy that you don’t actually seem to mind his company despite not wanting him in that way.

Of course that doesn’t mean he’s going to stop trying. Especially after what he finds when you let him look at your sketchbook that you always have on you.

When Mingyu stumbles on not one, but several beautifully drawn portraits, he can’t stop himself from commenting on it. The burning feeling growing in his chest forces him to, much to his chagrin.

“You have a lot of drawings of Seungcheol.” He says as he continues to flip the pages only to find more sketches of the point guard. “Like a lot.”

Mingyu knows he sounds like he’s extremely jealous, which, to be fair, he is.

You spare the large football player a glance as he continuous to flip through the many sketches you have of your best friend. His pout is probably one of the cutest things you’ve ever seen, and you can’t understand how someone so fatally attractive can resemble an adorable puppy.

“Yeah.” You answer mindlessly as you get back to your online shopping. “He’s pretty so I draw him a lot.”

Mingyu refuses to acknowledge the bile that rises up his throat when you call Seungcheol pretty. It’s not like you’re wrong, but he wishes you would say something to the same effect about him. He decides to sulk quietly until he stumbles on a particularly racy drawing of that stupid basketball player you call your best friend.

“Did you draw him naked!?”

You look up at the loud screech, feeling a wave of embarrassment come over you when you realize that almost everyone in the room had turned to stare at you. All you can do is shake your head and slap Mingyu’s beefy arm. You’re too irritated to think about how hard and big he is.

“What are you talking about?” You hiss at him.

He silently shows you the drawing of a shirtless Seungcheol you did a few months ago. You hadn’t even drawn the bottom half, but you had purposely sketched his v-line kind of low as if he had been naked. It almost makes you laugh, but instead you only roll your eyes.

“He was wearing pants. And even if he had been naked, it would’ve been purely artistic.”

You sound sincere, but jealousy always clouds reason. “Purely artistic? Are you sure?”

“I don’t fuck my friends.” You say as you snatch the book back from him. “That’s why I’ll never fuck you.”

Mingyu might’ve felt like you were being serious, but he catches the imperceptible waver in your voice. He smirks to himself as he leans back in his seat. You don’t notice the smugness radiating from him because soon your professor is starting the class.

It was only a matter of time before you gave into him, and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure it happened sooner rather than later.

You feel like the universe is laughing at you.

There’s a good possibility that this is just all a coincidence, but you know Kim Mingyu. He did this on purpose.

“Why haven’t you started?”

You grit your teeth and resist the urge to snap at Jeonghan. It’s not his fault the jock that has been the (secret) object of your fantasies is standing twelve feet away from you, posing completely naked.

“I mean, I can’t really blame you. This new model is fucking hot.”

“He’s okay.” You manage to mutter as you finally pick up your pencil to start sketching.

You almost feel like walking out, but you know that if you do, you’ll never hear the end of it from your friend or the stupidly attractive guy you’re about to draw. This would’ve been easier if Mingyu wasn’t so perfectly sculpted. Every ridge and muscle was so prominent and sexy that you had a vague urge to just go up there and lick him.

This included his cock. God, was it pretty. The long, veiny organ between his legs was also thick—the kind of thick that had you wondering if you would be able to fully wrap your hand around it.

You couldn’t even imagine what it would look like if he was hard.

This is perhaps the most distracted you’ve ever been while drawing, and you fucking hate it. As if hiding your blatant desire wasn’t hard enough, Mingyu just has to stare directly at you the entire time he’s posing. You angrily lick your lips, shifting in your seat to try and subtly relieve the throbbing you feel in your cunt. The universe is definitely laughing at you because the satin thong you chose to wear is already completely soiled.

You grit you teeth and start with the outline of his tall figure, trying your hardest not to hide behind your canvas while also trying not to stare too much. It’s a double edged sword that you don’t know how to handle, and you feel like you’re seconds away from getting cut.

Mingyu has never felt his confidence fall so low in his entire life.

Sure, he knows you’re in class and this assignment is for a grade, but how can you have no reaction at all? Your pretty eyes hold no traces of heat or desire whenever you look at him then back to your canvas. The muted expression on your cute face is also killing him because it seems almost unimpressed.

He feels like he’s back at that frat party all over again.

The most pathetic part is that he’s trying his hardest to not get an erection. Even if you don’t seem to be fazed by the sight of his naked body, there’s a large part of him that’s extremely turned on just knowing that you’re drawing every part of him.

“His dick is so pretty.” You hear the girl next to you sigh dreamily.

It makes you want to throttle her because she’s right. Mingyu has the prettiest cock you’ve ever seen on a man, and you’re pretty sure that if you’re forced to look at it any longer, you’re going to ruin your jeans.

By the time your class ends, you feel like you’re two seconds away from crying because of how horny you feel. The ache between your legs has never been this bad, and you need to get home so you can take care of yourself with your shiny new toy that came in the mail a few days ago.

Unfortunately, Mingyu—who’s now wearing a fucking robe—decides to put a damper on your would be plans. You have to control your expression because the asshole just looks so good in a robe, and now that you know what’s beneath it, you know you won’t be able to keep up your facade for much longer.

“So what did you think?”

His grin is that same one that you became endeared with long ago, but now it just fuels the burning in your core. Fuck. You need to get away from him immediately.

“Your pose was very good for an amateur. I’m surprised maintained it the entire time.”

Mingyu is both delighted and disappointed by your answer. And before he can say anything else, he sees your eyes light up as you look behind him. “Cheol!”

You skip over to your best friend who’s waiting for you by the door with his signature scowl firm in place. Mingyu can’t hide his frown as you leave without even saying bye.

“It seems to me like you’ve made no progress.”

Mingyu isn’t a violent guy. He prefers to resolve things by talking, but man does he want to rip Seokmin’s tongue out right now. It’s not like he’s actually angry at his friend, but he can’t stand the fact that you’re in his frat house, completely ignoring him. When he invited you, he thought you’d at least come up and say hi, but you seemed more interested in talking to Joshua fucking Hong—a.k.a Mr. I Lost My Virginity To My Hot Cheerleader Girlfriend.

When he sees you laugh at something the nerd says, again, he just snaps and walks into the kitchen where you two are. Once again, Mingyu feels like he’s been dropped into an alternate universe because how the hell does the chemist have more game than him?

“Joshy.” His voice is deceptively cheerful. “I didn’t know you were coming.”

His friend’s boyfriend only rolls his eyes. “I was forced to come. We’re going to leave soon, though.”

Within seconds, Josh is able to pick up on the tension between you and Mingyu. He’s heard all about how the jock is practically in love with you from his lovely girlfriend. Usually, Josh has no interest in the affairs of others, but Mingyu is the one who basically made his relationship happen. And he’ll probably never be able to repay him in full, however, what he was about to do would be a good start.

“But Y/N wants to stay a little longer. You’re cool to take her home, right?”

Mingyu thinks you’ll protest, but to his surprise you’re looking at him expectantly. He mechanically nods, not taking his eyes off you even when Josh announces that he’s leaving.

“Why haven’t you said anything to me all night?” Is the first thing he says when Josh is out of earshot.

His cute pout is doing things to you, and you wish you could blame it on the alcohol coursing through your veins. “You saw me, but you didn’t say hi either. Guess you don’t like me as much as I thought you did.”

Mingyu frowns and backs you into the counter, effectively trapping you by putting both of his arms on either side of your body. He leans close until your faces are inches apart.

“Baby, I don’t think you actually realize how much I like you.”

Your heart pounds at the pet name, and you wonder if he can hear it over the loud music. It’s a miracle that your next words come out strong and with some conviction. “Yeah? Well, when I feel like having a pity fuck, I’ll let you know.”

Mingyu only smirks and leans back. He trails a hand down your arm and gently grips your pinky and ring finger. “Dance with me?”

Just as you’re about to say yes, Seungcheol and Seungkwan enter the kitchen. Unlike you’re expecting, Mingyu doesn’t let go of you. Instead he steps a bit closer to you as your friends approach. You feel hot all over, and you aren’t too sure if it has to do with the hunk beside you, Seungkwan’s Cheshire Cat grin, or Seungcheol’s piercing glare.

“Y/N.” Seungkwan breaks the silence. “We’re leaving soon. Are you coming?”

“No.” You say, leaning back into Mingyu. “I’ll text you guys when I get home, though.”

The tension thickens, but luckily for you, your friends accept your answer. You furrow your eyebrows when you Seungcheol whispers something in Mingyu’s ear before leaving the kitchen with your other friend in toe. You ask Mingyu what was said but he only gives you that pretty smile of his and pulls you away to the living room.

You don’t realize how the time flies until you get a text from Seungkwan asking if you’ve made it home safely. By now, the drinks you had are wearing off, and you’re ready to go home. You type out your response before telling Mingyu that you’re going to get and Uber so he doesn’t have to worry about taking you home since he had a few drinks as well.

“I’m not letting you go alone.” He says as he follows you outside.

“Okay. Just spend the night with me then.”

Mingyu waits for you to say you’re not being serious, but it never comes. His heart pounds as he follows you into the car. It gets worse when you wrap an arm around his own and place your hand over his. All he can feel is your warmth as you snuggle into him, seemingly not fazed by the intimacy of your actions.

It all feels like a dream to him when you guide him up to your luxury apartment. He’s awed with how spacious and lavish it is.

“Gyu.”

His heart stutters at the nickname, and immediately he snaps his attention to you like an obedient puppy. “Yeah?”

“I’m in the mood for a pity fuck.”

You two stare at each other, and for the first time, Mingyu sees a carnal heat in you shining eyes. He swallows thickly, feeling his cock twitch. “You’re drunk—”

“I had a couple of drinks hours ago. Are you going to fuck me or do I have to take care of myself?”

You’re not sure how you got to this point, but you hardly care. Mingyu’s large hands feel too good against your hot skin for you to focus on anything else. He’s taking his time to feel up the length of your legs, and you briefly wonder if this is his way of getting his pay back for all the times you told him you didn’t want to fuck him.

“Gyu...”

God, he’ll never get tired of hearing you call him that.

“What is it, baby?” He coos against your thigh, gently nipping at the skin.

You’re already trembling for him and he has yet to touch you where he's been dying to. Still, he wants to savor this moment for as long as he can.

“Fuck, please just do something. Anything!”

Vaguely, you have this thought that maybe you’re being a little too needy and desperate, but just the thought of having those pretty lips wrapped around your clit and bringing you to ecstasy has you literally dripping all over the sheets.

“If you tell me that,” he pauses and looks up at you with a grin, pretty canines on full display. “Then it kind of seems like this isn’t just a pity fuck.”

You whine out in frustration, and Mingyu is sure he’s never seen a hotter sight. Your reactions and arousal is all evidence of the desire you’ve been denying that you have for him. And once you admit it, he’s going to absolutely ruin you.

“You know it’s not.” You say through a frustrated groan. “So just eat me out already!”

Mingyu complies with a smug laugh, but his laughter is soon replaced by an animalistic groan when he gets a taste of your juices. He’s gentle with his movements at first, but as soon as he sees the starry-eyes look you’re giving him, he dives in like a starved man.

“Fuh-Fuck!” You moan out, grinding your cunt onto his tongue with a neediness that has his cock throbbing in desire.

The lower half of his face is covered in your juices, and the sight is enough to get you to clench on his tongue. His hands push your thighs farther apart as he shoves his tongue deeper into your aching cunt. He harshly pulls you toward him, encouraging your needy humps against his face.

“This all for me, princess?” He teases, his voice sending vibrations straight to your clit.

Your fingers trail down your naked body until they latch on to his dark hair as your dripping pussy clenches around his tongue. He pulls back a bit when you don’t immediately answer him.

“I asked you a question, baby. You already too fucked out to answer me? I haven’t even started yet.”

He doesn’t give you a chance to answer before he dives back in to where you need him the most. Desire ignites in his veins as his cock is twitching and leaking on your silk sheets. Mingyu groans against you as you chant his name like a mantra. He thinks he’ll go crazy when you meet every swipe of his tongue with an eager grind of your hips.

Lewd squelching noises fill the room as he fucks you with the muscle, lazily blinking up at you when your hips grind against his face. “Such a sweet pussy. It’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

Desire is thick in his voice as you arch into his mouth. “Mingyu!”

You feel like your head is swimming when his tongue splits through your folds, slurping at the slick that’s gathered between them before he’s dragging it up to roll over your clit. The sight of Mingyu so fucked out on your taste, eyes rolling back like it’s his first taste of heaven only makes you feel even better.

He closes his lips around your bud, suckling languidly until more pretty moans are spilling from your mouth. Your clit starts to feel firmer when he flattens his tongue against it, messy with his spit and your arousal. Mingyu thinks heaven does exist, and it’s between your thighs. When he looks up to see your head thrown back in pleasure, moaning for him, he knows that if he’s in heaven then you’re definitely an angel.

“Mingyu!”

His cock seeps with precum at the first taste of your cream on his tongue. The entire lower half of his face glistens with your juices as he laps up everything you give to him so eagerly. Mingyu doesn’t stop his movements until the aftershocks of pleasure feel like they burn you with each kitten lick he gives your cunt.

“Gyu.” You breathe out, gently pushing his head away. “I need your cock.”

When he rises up and sits back, you salivate at the sight of his hard, throbbing cock. You think you might be in love with the sight. “Fuck.” You groan as you trail your hands up his hard body while licking your lips. “You don’t know how bad I’ve wanted to fuck you since I saw you naked.”

Mingyu hides the smirk growing on his face with a pout. “That’s the only time?”

“No, but fuck. You’re so hot. Just wait until I finish my portrait of you, then you’ll know.”

That’s all it takes for him to smash his lips on to yours, messily running his tongue against your lower lip. You swallow each other’s moans, both needy and desperate with your movements. He slips an arm under your waist, tugging you closer to him as he slowly teasing your messy entrance with his weeping cock.

Mingyu keeps kissing you deeply, tongue licking into your mouth possessively. He’s overwhelmed with the smell and taste of you, and he just knows that after this he won’t ever be able to let you go.

“Oh fuck.”

Your moan when he slowly eases his cock inside you nearly have Mingyu coming right then and there. Your sweet pussy us sucking him in, clamping down on him and massaging his aching dick with your velvety walls. He feels like he’s drunk as he starts to roll his hips into you, giant balls gently hitting your ass.

The gentleness of his movements have your head swimming, and you can’t help it buck your hips up to meet his thrusts. Mingyu is obsessed with how well your tight cunt is taking his cock. His eyes are wide with unadulterated adoration as you moan out his name and use all your strength to pull him closer to you.

“Fuck, baby. You’re taking my cock so good.” He groans as he sets a rougher pace. “Best pussy I’ve ever had. Wanted you for so long.”

The way your cunt squeezes him only makes him fuck you harder, loving the sight of your tits bouncing with every harsh thrust he gives you. His hips are rolling into you desperately, chasing the friction the warm walls of your dripping cunt offers him, squeezing him in until it’s almost hard to move.

Mingyu angles his hips to slam his cock into the spot that has you seeing stars. You let out a loud cry as you gush around him, coating his dick and balls with your juices. It almost feels like you’re suffocating his cock, but he doesn’t slow his pace.

“Fucking love your dick, Gyu!”

Your moans soon turn into incoherent cries when he slips a hand down to rub circles on your swollen pussy. The actions push you over the edge, and Mingyu can’t contain his loud moan when your orgasm coats his cock.

“That’s it, baby. Cream all over my cock.”

You don’t care that you’re starting to feel delirious from how Mingyu keeps fucking you. The feeling of his cock slamming into you feels too good. Mingyu’s loud moan when he finally releases his hot cum inside you.

Mingyu’s thrusts don’t stop. He fucks him cum back into you, aching cock still chasing another high. The sight of you gone dumb on his cock has him pushing up your legs up to your chest, both of you groaning at the new angle that allows him to fuck you deeper. The wet slapping sound from your mixed releases fills your room, and all you can focus on is how his cock is splitting you open.

“Look at how dumb you get for my cock.” Mingyu says through his groans. “I knew you wanted to fuck me this whole time.”

You manage to smirk at him. “Not as bad as you wanted to fuck me.”

His thrusts get harsher and sharper. You can only mewl at the feeling, knowing you’re on the brink of coming again. Mingyu’s throbbing cock drags against your hot cunt, twitching sporadically when you softly mewl his name. The sound shoots straight to his dick as he lets out another groan.

“That’s right, princess. And now I’m never letting you go.”

You let out a wanton moan at his words. “Gyu, I’m gonna—”

You’re cut off by your own cry of ecstasy. Just the sight of you coating his pelvic area with your orgasm is enough to trigger his own. Mingyu shoots ropes of sticky cum inside you, stuffing you full of his seed until it leaks out and drips on to your sheets. He half collapses on top of you, not putting his full wait on you.

“I’m being serious.” Mingyu says as he pulls out of you and rolls you over so you’re on top of him. “I don’t plan on letting you go.”

You smile sleepily against his broad chest. “I don’t plan to, either. You’re my only exception.”

taglist: @duolingofanaccount @felix-3002 @junhui-recs @asjkdk @dani41 @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @ohwonwoo @dokwiyomie

[sugar-petals]

SuperM: Their Orgasm Faces

a/n. i’ve written the same scenario for bts and thought this is perfect for these guys as well 💦

warnings ⚠️ multiple rounds, masturbation, loud sex, crying

➸ Taemin Constant little trembles. Puffy lips and a huge back arch. Softly moving hips that know exactly what they’re doing, reacting to your every touch. Balmy moans for the gods, they’re such a giant turn-on. His face looks so soft and relaxes into the pleasure without restraint. And my god, the hair. It’s like an old Italian painting. The voice is just as indulging — all those little “ha...” noises he makes. So lush and super breathy. Long story short: He looks perfect in the unlikely case someone forgot. What more can I tell you. He’s broadcasted it to the entire world at this point. In fact, isn’t Taemin’s entire cinematic work a silk and satin-laced compilation of o-faces? Even his haters can’t deny that. He has the perfect variety, perfect sensuality. Never out of place, never too feeble nor too much. He doesn’t just show that to you in bed, he truly owns it. Taemin’s orgasms are really drawn out, it’s the most amazing spectacle. So much to see: And you never know when the first one ends and the second one starts. He’s that erotic and completely swayed by you. If there’s one person completely in tune with his arousal and amps it up to the maximum, and takes you higher yourself with him, that’s Lee Taemin. He cums more beautifully than anyone you’ve ever seen. Fuck, it feels like you have to write him a ten-page thank you letter for being able to witness that. One word suffices: he’s fantastic.

➸ Taeyong You won’t believe it. He is so handsome, but he tries to hide his face. Or buries his hands in his hair, and twists himself to the side. Sometimes, into a pillow. Othertimes, a blanket or a sleeve. Taeyong doesn’t like his pleasure being seen. He’s not just shy; he’s reserved, delicately cautious. He’d rather have his hair fall into his face and conceal all the sweet emotions that surface. His lips are tightly shut and more often than not, he looks away. Even when he’s by himself getting off to the thought of you, he can’t keep his head up. It’s a shame, but you also figure it’s because he gifts himself to you to be very protected, not judged or consumed. Taeyong needs your guidance and strength. That’s why you hug him and let his face rest in the crook of your neck, and it becomes his favorite spot to lean into when he’s coming. Taeyong is more reassured this way. His eyebrows raise and he’s giving you the most heavenly whimpers. It overwhelms him every time. But that’s the place where he can finally moan it out. His voice is so gorgeous, and desperate, and full of gratitude towards you. When he really trusts you, he’s — god — actually grunting in his deep voice and sometimes meets your eye fleetingly. Or sucks in air and holds it before his whole body erupts. Oh my god. Those thighs are gonna go through an entire earthquake. Truth be told: NCT didn’t lie when they sang about a volcano, did they.

➸ Jongin Come on. The main dancer who has his face all up in a camera every stage, making people worldwide bust a nut by just raising a corner of the mouth. If there’s one person with the best, most intense facial expressions? It’s Kai all the way. Just throw the OSCAR right at him. Matter of fact, we all know he is the king of being absolutely stunning in bed. Jongin always looks like he wants to take you in completely, his entire upper body goes forward. His eyes are deep and glistening, but not fully mysterious. First and foremost they’re hundred percent passion just as you’d expect from him. The brows, the fucking brows! The lips, mumbling, and the jaw is in motion even if you wouldn’t pay attention to it at first. And by contrast, he looks more in love than anyone else. Can we appreciate how romantic Kai’s vibe is? How does he do it? He yearns and calls you babe, the entire face feels twitching and shaky. As if he was suffering from being so enamoured, but it feels so good to him. Every new thrust makes his expression change a bit. How he’s allowing himself to feel you literally paints a living story on his features. Toward the middle and the end of his climax, Kai looks so vulnerable and lost in the pleasure that you gave him or he gave himself. It’s almost like he is underwater. If you ever look into those dreamy eyes... Kai’s orgasm face will put an actual spell on you. Have a guess. The spell is called: Make you even hornier and throw your fucking head back from all that good stuff.

➸ Mark Yeah, uh-oh. The bomb is going off right here. It feels like Mark didn’t fuck for literal months every time even if you had sex the other day. His jaw is hanging open throughout. The eyes wide. Lips shivering, only a little. A bit of saliva is pooling just there. Then, his head falls forward. Hair in his eyes, brows clenched toward the middle. He looks like he can’t believe it, he’s helpless to the power it has over him. His orgasm darts through his body like a thunderbolt. You got it, sex with Mark is exactly that, so electric. It arrives fast and it’s over fast. And it’s massive, catches him off guard so often. A big, sweeping “Ah—h!” that carries him away like a tidal wave. Who’s the living super car in SuperM? That’s Mark Lee who goes through his climax like he’s watching a train speed by. What can he do but curse himself and moan. Something is possessing this poor man. His face looks like he has to keep up with his own damn reflexes. Can you imagine how hard his body is going to clutch if he just cums in one go? And if he tries to kiss you during that? What the fuck Mark! He just never calms down, does he. Or wait — fast forward... oh wonder: He falls asleep only minutes after. His face: now completely angelic. Mark really put all his heart and mind and cum into this one orgasm. This guy has dedication and it shows. He always delivers you one hell of a show. Rumor has it you have a couple videos of it on your phone.

➸ Baekhyun Clenches his teeth so hard. The first you’ll hear is a loud and whiny “nnh!” in the buildup. And that’s when you know he can’t go back. The entire neck seems under pressure. He stares. Gasps for air. The breathing, raw as fuck. Up and down goes that chest all the way against you. In fact, he breathes the fastest in the group. His face gets so heated. All those veins come out. This guy’s blood flow is a new level. Releasing tons of stress and energy. His eyes are squeezed shut as soon as it begins because it’s so strong and relieving, it’s borderline painful. He couldn’t speak for the first five seconds even if he tried. Only the second wave brings out a stifled chain of moans that he surrenders to. On some days, he even starts crying from relief. It takes minutes upon minutes until he cools off entirely. Baekhyun is so orgasmic, he’s all splayed out on the bed afterwards or deeply engrossed in your embrace for endless cuddles. I’m telling you. Should you ever get a second orgasm out of him, he’s gonna be reduced to a puddle. A shaking, sobbing mess that can’t stop wailing. There’s only begging for more in these eyes. It goes without saying that you need the most sound-proof room there ever was because he is at the top of his voice. Baekhyun being loud for you is a natural staple. PS: Mark my words. Should you get him to a third orgasm, he’s gonna be screaming without a pause and his fucking tongue is hanging out. 

➸ Yukhei As if he can ever stop wiggling his brows at you. Did you expect he just lets loose and rolls his eye back? No, no. He keeps looking right at you until the end. Full Xuxi confidence and charisma at play. Lots of nicknames coming at you, he’s gonna say them all. That level of eye contact is gonna get you going big time. You know how large and wonderful his eyes are, like a doe’s. Lucas hardly closes them unless it comes to getting blowjobs. Where he’s gonna look at you very intensely most of the time anyway. Lucas tries to not let the sensations overcome him so he remains present with you. He never really seems like he indulges all the way like Taemin or Kai would. The whole thing is pretty suspicious because he doesn’t fully ease into your interplay of movements. Guess why... at any point, he’s invested in making you cum and keeps on pulling out his magic tricks until you’re getting there. He’s gonna use those big fucking hands (he knows you love ‘em) and goes on and on until he has you there. Yukhei’s personality is all over the place, but he has steely concentration during sex. Not to mention the technique. He’s even gonna go for pushing his hair back as a killing part. No mediocre, he’s doing the most. After all: Lucas cums the best if he just saw you losing it or you’re on the way. Synchronizing your orgasms is difficult, but he puts all his focus into achieving just that. Yukhei is an expert in how close you are after a while, and even starts letting himself fall back into the sheets below you when you release together. 

➸ Ten Perfectly understated. Lids heavy, lips opened just a bit. Elegant, almost, and chesty in tone. He’s the connoisseur. My god. It’s the most gentlemanly someone could ever cum. His forehead is so sweaty as is his hair and back, because if Ten fucks he does it properly, but still. He’s so calm. He could be in your arms for more than half an hour and be fully composed. The focus and self-control is just phenomenal. Completely in the moment, not missing a heartbeat. Which is such a hard thing to do but it’s effortless with him. Ten knows the value of moderation and tension. He’s not keeping his groans in for the whole time and only moans when he comes. Not at all. It’s a different story with him. It all builds up perfectly and comes out freely whenever. He’s actually pretty close to singing, his voice accompanies his breathing in ideal sync. So melodic. Ten is all smitten by you. Nothing is kept in. He looks at you so fondly, he enjoys himself so much. So, it becomes a beautiful loving serenade. His face doesn’t make any sudden or extreme contortions either. The expression moves and changes very slowly, is very easy on the eye. Every minute with him is fulfilling. Ten is all wrapped up in the mood and the groove like it’s business. Prepare to lose your fucking mind, these are new levels of feeling good. Not one awkward moment, just making love. Oh my god are you lucky.

art: The Great Wave off Kanagawa (1829-33) — by Hokusai

© 2017-2021 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed.

[cherienymphe]

Rapture (Sherlock Holmes x Reader)

WARNINGS: NON-CON, loss of virginity

!!! DNI IF THIS OFFENDS YOU !!!

➥ {page breaks done by @firefly-graphics​ }

summary: taking on the case of the disappearance of your father, Sherlock Holmes finds himself drawn to you, the daughter who holds more mystery than any riddle he’s ever encountered

~

“Y/N, keep your chin up, dear.”

Swallowing down your ire, you listened to your mother and did just that, raising your chin and pushing your shoulders back. A soft breeze ruffled the skirt of your dress, and goosebumps erupted over your arms underneath your sleeves. You could hear your mother fussing over your sister, lightly scolding her for the dress she’d picked out, something about the color.

“We want to look our best for when Mr. Holmes arrives,” you heard her say.

You heard your sister let out a soft huff, having no desire to hide her annoyance. Those classes your mother made her attend weren’t doing much for her character, but she was young. No longer a child but not yet a woman, instead stuck in that place in between. You did not yearn for those days…

You did once, longed for the innocence and ignorance that clouded your childhood, but adulthood had long taught you that ignorance was not bliss. Ignorance kept people blind from the truth, and some truths needed to be known.

Your mother’s change in tone alerted you to the carriage that was being pulled into the yard. A soft sigh escaped you as it drew near, a far cry from your sister’s intrigue, eyes wide and neck strained in order to get a better look. The three of you were poised on the steps in front of the grand house, having been patiently waiting for Mr. Holmes’ arrival.

Sherlock Holmes.

The detective whose name was known far and wide was arriving to help none other than your family. Out of all of the possibilities that had taken up residence in your mind, the infamous Sherlock Holmes taking on the case of your missing father had never been one of them. You supposed that you shouldn’t be shocked that the mysterious disappearance of the wealthy patriarch had caught the man’s attention. It was all anyone could seem to talk about these days…

All three of you watched the mountain of a man step out of the carriage, but for three very different reasons. Your sister was curious, intrigued by this new person, a new puzzle to figure out, a thing to study and observe. Outside of father, your sister had never interacted with many males in her life. Your mother looked at the dark-haired gentleman like a beacon of hope, a savior to bring her peace in some form or another. You, on the other hand, you watched him like a snake would a hawk.

If you didn’t keep an eye on him, he could very well eat you alive.

“Mr. Holmes,” your mother rushed to greet him, and the contents of your stomach tossed at the relief you heard in her voice.

In her mind, he had already solved the case and returned your missing father to you. She was comforted by the detective’s mere presence, and you grimaced.

“It is an honor to have you here. Truly. You do not know what it means to me and my girls,” she told him, voice already shaking.

“It is no great deal to me, madam. I wish to find your husband just as much as you do, to bring peace and relief back to your household.”

You shifted on your feet, hands clasped in front of you as the low timber of his voice reached your ears. It was smooth, soft even, but no means wavering. His steady diction exhibited his refined background that you’d heard so much about, and you warily eyed him.

He towered over your mother, making the strong woman look so incredibly fragile to the point that it scared you. You suddenly had the urge to push him away. As your mother conversed with him, your sister tiptoed to your side, admiration in her voice as her lips brushed your ear.

“He is quite handsome, isn’t he?” she said, surprising you.

She had never expressed any interest in boys, but Mr. Holmes clearly struck something in her that even she could not ignore. As you ran your eyes over him, you found you were unable to deny the truth in her words. His features were indeed striking, the kind of face that artists begged to paint. His dark brows and hair complimented his eyes, strong jawline and pink lips moving fluidly as he talked to your mother. His curls gave a boyish quality to his otherwise manly countenance, and you had the brief thought of touching them, wondering if they were as soft as they looked.

“…and these are my daughters,” your mother’s voice reached you as she neared, the imposing man a step behind her.

Both you and your sister greeted him properly, your sister’s name falling from his lips as your mother honed in on her. You sent him a small smile when your mother gestured to you, and he returned it, eyes alight as she introduced you.

“This is my oldest, Y/N. My pride and joy,” she praised.

Your sister squirmed beside you, and you frowned.

“Mother,” you quietly admonished to which she quickly brushed off.

“Oh, hush. She will bring greatness to our name just as her father did. Rest assured, she will be a great help to you,” she told him.

He eyed you with something unknown as your mother continued to speak praises to your name, and you looked away, gaze landing on your sister instead as you took her hand. She had begun to shrink in on herself, and you swallowed down a sigh.

Your mother wanted her youngest to be something she was not. She wanted her to be you, but the young girl couldn’t ever be anyone but herself. And you didn’t understand why mother would want her to. It was a great source of insecurity and frustration for your sister, to constantly be compared to yourself, and it hurt you to see the adventurous girl make herself small.

“Do come in,” your mother ushered him inside.

Mr. Holmes followed her, and you and your sister him, your eyes never straying from his broad form. You’d heard of his skills, his observation, but of course you had never seen the man in action before. At first glance, it seemed like an innocent perusal, as if he were simply taking in the new scenery, admiring it. However, it didn’t take long to realize that he was taking note of every detail. Every plant, every painting that was askew, even the liquor cabinet, eyeing which liquors were consumed the most.

Your mother was prattling on about nonsense, and Mr. Holmes had already begun to work.

“Tell me, when did Mr. Y/L/N disappear?” he suddenly murmured, fingering a plant on a nearby table.

“Tomorrow will make it…what is it? Three weeks without him?”

She looked to the two of you, and you both nodded.

“Three weeks,” she confirmed. “We only noticed his absence the next morning, so it had to have been that Wednesday night. At the very latest, the early hours of Thursday morning.”

“…and you are sure it was a Wednesday?”

She thought for a moment before nodding.

“I’m sure of it. It rained all day the next day, finally making the ground soft enough for my dear Y/N to start her garden. She adores plants,” she told him with a smile.

Your heart sank to your stomach, and you resisted the urge to roll your eyes as you realized what was happening here. Leave it to your mother to prioritize finding you a husband while investigating your father’s disappearance. Mr. Holmes’ gaze met yours, and you held it until he was forced to look away. At least she thought highly enough of you to think you worthy of someone like Sherlock Holmes.

All three of you watched him pace around the living room, a soft hum leaving his lips here and there. Again, he returned to that plant that he’d been fingering, eyeing the carpet beneath the table before finally looking to your mother.

“I’d like to take a look at the rest of the house.”

With a wide smile, she was all too happy to oblige. Your sister bid him goodbye with a soft smile, and you did the same when his eyes met yours, face falling as soon as he turned his back to you.

“Do you think he will find father?”

You glanced up from your breakfast to gaze at your sister, her anxious eyes already on you. You swallowed, wiping your mouth before offering her a shrug.

“Who is to say…”

“He must! He’s the best detective there is. He’s only been here for two days, and already he seems far more diligent than the others,” she quietly argued.

“I cannot argue with that,” you admitted.

You were unnerved by the unfamiliar man. He was indeed great at his job, and his acceptance of your mother’s offer to stay in one of the many rooms here only gave him more time and free reign to gather clues as to where your father could have gone. He spent the first day with your mother, having her recount everything she could remember, anything that could help. The next day was your sister, so you knew it was only a matter of time before he demanded your time and attention as well.

You didn’t like the thought of being alone with the man. His piercing eyes were scarily perceptive, taking note of much more than you could possibly give him credit for. They were ever watchful, and that unnerved you to no end. True to your suspicions, he entered the dining room just as you were finishing up, heavy gaze finding yours, and you bid your sister adieu.

“Your mother said that you went to bed early Wednesday night,” was the first thing he said as soon as you sat down across from him in the dimly lit living room.

The dark curtains allowed for little sunlight to peak through, and shadows casted over his aristocratic features.

“I did.”

He hummed, a faint smile on his lips, so small you could miss it if you blinked.

“Tired?”

“Extremely. I don’t sleep very well,” you honestly told him. “…and so I figured the earlier I rested my head, the earlier my eyes would follow suit.”

He nodded at that, eyes trailing over the room.

“Does gardening help with that?”

“…sometimes,” you answered.

“Does your mother or sister help out with that? Or is it just you?”

“It’s just me.”

His eyes were on yours again, gaze inquiring, yet guarded. He was probing for something, and you knew it was his job, but it filled your mouth with distaste.

“…so you are the only one who attends to the plants in the house?”

“Yes.”

He stared at you for a moment before releasing a small sigh. He stood, and you did as well, eyeing him as he paused at your movement before slowly beginning to pace about the room.

“I am here to help…Ms. Y/L/N.”

His voice reeked of well-hidden frustration, and you sighed as well.

“I know that,” you responded, briefly closing your eyes. “…and I am cooperating, am I not?”

He paused, and his eyes met yours again, flickering between your irises before humming.

“Indeed, you are, but I want you to cooperate because you want to. Not because you feel like you have to. I am merely here to help, to find your father’s whereabouts, so I want you to feel comfortable around me.”

“I am,” you lied.

He knew that you were lying, if the look in his eyes was anything to go by, but he let it go.

“Your mother and sister said that you all searched the grounds for him all day. Enlisting the help of the police for the next week and a half before the search was eventually called off,” he suddenly said, moving on.

“Yes. No stone was left unturned. My mother felt it was best to leave this in the hands of detectives, but the lot of them were…incompetent at best.”

Disdain and disgust coated your words, and Mr. Holmes eyed you.

“…and at worst?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, pursing your lips.

“Greedy perverts trying to get their hands on our money,” you admitted.

You threw him a humorless smile, and the corner of his lips quirked up just the slightest as he turned away.

“None of them sparked your fancy?”

He was teasing, and you fought back a smile.

“No. I don’t daydream about marriage, Mr. Holmes. Of course, it is what my mother wishes for me, and I know that I am to settle down eventually for it is the way of the world, but I am certainly in no rush. Marriage does not appeal to me in the slightest.”

It was the one wedge in you and your mother’s relationship: your lack of prospects. However, no amount of snide comments from your mother about your age would sway you.

“Surely, your parents’ marriage must have softened your heart just a little…”

When you looked up, his eyes were once again on you, something in them that you could not name, and you held his gaze, a fond smile on your lips.

“Their marriage was like any other, I suppose. Of course, they had the occasional spat over the most trivial of things like all married couples do, but they were happy,” you replied.

He simply nodded, gaze lingering before pulling his eyes away, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say reluctantly so. His casual interrogation that wasn’t really an interrogation didn’t last for much longer, and somehow, you felt more nervous leaving the room than you did when you entered it.

Your mother and sister did not seem to share your sentiments. Indeed, they were ever comfortable around the dark-haired man. Part of you wondered if the holes in their heart that were left by father were temporarily being filled by Mr. Holmes. Having a man around the house again surely brought some mild comfort to them, even if they knew it was only momentary.

They happily invited him to eat with you all, participate in small talk, even showing him your garden. You felt that it was all unnecessary, distracting even. Mr. Holmes had a job to do, and the sooner he left, the better. You didn’t know how much more of his analyzing gaze you could take.

It didn’t matter that he would be engaged in conversation with your sister or mother for his eyes always found their way back to you somehow. He wasn’t a man of many words, but it seemed that you were an exception. Your mother did not miss how he always attempted to draw you into conversation, get you to talk more. It was becoming rather tiresome to explain to her that the man was simply doing his job.

Hell, it was becoming tiresome to remind yourself of that. It was his job to pry, to observe, to snoop even. The day that you’d found him in your chambers, standing by your bed, gazing around with his hands folded behind his back, you’d almost suffered a heart attack. It took the will of God to remind you that he was a detective, and that he was simply doing his job.

Sherlock Holmes was doing what he was hired to do.

And that was the problem.

You could hear footsteps approaching from below, and you paused on your reading, sticking a finger in the page before closing your book. The branch that you’d chosen to lounge on was higher than the usual, and you craned your head ever so slightly to look down below.

Mr. Holmes decided to make himself at home beneath the tree, leaning back against the trunk. His suit jacket was gone, one knee bent, and you watched as the autumn breeze ruffled his soft curls. You blinked, wondering to yourself how he managed to look both intimidating and vulnerable at the same time?

“No one in town seems to have any legitimate idea of where your father could have gone.”

His voice traveled to you from below, and you chuckled before you could stop yourself.

“No, I would imagine not. Despite what they may think, none of the townspeople know my father, at all,” you told him.

You could feel his eyes on you as you descended, and you brushed your dress off when you finally made it to the ground. He looked up at you with such intrigue, brows furrowed in a mixture of confusion and concentration. You cleared your throat.

“You’re staring, Mr. Holmes.”

He slowly blinked at you.

“Indeed, I am,” he said, rising to join you. “I do apologize. I was having a rather strong sense of déjà vu.”

Now it was your turn to frown in confusion, and he continued.

“My sister…she loves to hide away in a tree with a good book just as well as you.”

He ran his eyes over your face, drinking you in, and the hair on your arms stood on end.

“…you remind me of her in some ways,” he murmured.

“Well, she sounds like a remarkable young woman then,” you complimented.

“She is getting there,” he replied, a hint of pride in his voice. “Although, just like her, so much of you remains a mystery to me.”

You squirmed under his scrutinizing gaze, looking away from his narrowed eyes to walk towards your garden. You could both feel and hear him behind you, and you felt your face grow hot as the weight of his stare pressed down on you.

“You have a rather impressive garden,” he praised.

You looked to him, a small smile slow to spread along your lips.

“Thank you.”

“Crown Imperials,” he noted, and your smile fell. “They seem to be a favorite of yours.”

“They are. The bright blooms are so pretty to me,” you truthfully replied.

“You spend a great deal of time out here,” he hummed.

You bent down to finger a petal, a genuine smile on your face now.

“I find comfort out here. Looking at this garden, basking in its presence, puts me at ease. Flowers that bloom in the colder months, when all the leaves have fallen and the animals have scurried away to hibernate, symbolize rebirth to me. New beginnings,” you whispered, eyes unfocused as you let your hand fall.

You slowly stood, stomach flipping when your eyes met his as you turned around. His hands were at his side, broad form much closer than you remembered, and your eyes zeroed in on the way he flexed his fingers. Mr. Holmes opened his mouth to speak, but you interrupted him.

“I should get back inside to assist my sister with her studies,” you told him.

You bid him goodbye and scurried past him before he could utter a word.

The next night, you made your way downstairs in the darkness as you did every night. Your mother and sister were fast asleep in their rooms, Mr. Holmes having long gone to bed as well. With a soft sigh, you approached the front door, locking it with a resounding click. You pressed your hand against the wood, heart aching for your mother, pitying her even, before you turned around.

“Why do you lock the door every night?”

A scream threatened to escape your throat, but you swallowed it down as light flooded the foyer. You pressed your hand to your chest, glaring at the detective as he stood across from you…dressed for bed. You blinked at the sight of his bare chest, and you quickly looked away, face heating up.

“Mr. Holmes,” you slowly began, forcing your heart to slow. “…you frightened me.”

“You did not answer my question,” was his only response, and you frowned at him.

“I beg your pardon?”

He took a step towards you, and you resisted the urge to take a step back.

“Mrs. Y/L/N leaves it unlocked every night in hopes that her husband, your father, will return. She told me so, and you come down every night to lock it. Why?”

You heaved a sigh, guilt flooding you.

“…because it is sad. I hope for his return just as much as my mother, but I will not be so foolish as to leave me and my family completely vulnerable while we sleep.”

He didn’t respond, so you continued.

“My father, her husband, is God knows where, and I understand that she is worried, but she is beginning to lose all sense of reason ever since his disappearance. Someone must keep this house together,” you complained.

He eventually nodded at that, seeming to accept this, and your eyes fell to the floor, uncomfortable with his close proximity and inappropriate state of dress. Your eyes caught the end of your nightgown, and you realized with a start that you both were inappropriately dressed for this conversation. Especially one so late at night. You shuddered to imagine what your mother would think if she came downstairs this very moment.

You looked up, startled, when he stepped closer, and your throat felt incredibly dry all of a sudden. Your sister’s words that first day came back to you, and you thought to yourself that Sherlock Holmes was much more handsome than she knew. You took a step back, back grazing the door as you eyed his face, him doing the same.

“You brew medicine for your mother, making salves as well,” he suddenly murmured, and you frowned. “I saw them in her room. The herbs used to make them I found in the kitchen.”

Your frown deepened, unsure of how this was relevant to anything.

“I did not know she was unwell,” he probed.

You cleared your throat, wrapping your arms around yourself.

“She isn’t…unwell, I mean. At least…not really. As she said, it rained that Thursday after my father’s disappearance. She was worried and distraught and did not take note of the slippery steps. She fell, and the salve and medicine are simply to help with the bruising and the pain,” you explained.

He only hummed at that, and you made to move around him, a bidding of goodnight on your lips, but he blocked your path. You looked to him with wide eyes, heart beginning to race again, although you didn’t know why.

Even in the thin and exposing nightgown, you felt your body heat up under his heavy gaze, his eyes running over your frame in a way that you were familiar with. However, the disgust that normally coursed through you at such an action was nowhere to be found. Instead, something unfamiliar swirled in the pit of your stomach, and this scared you.

It must have been written on your face, that fear, or at the very least visible in your eyes for Mr. Holmes took a step back. You noticed that his jaw was clenched, face pinched in a pensive manner that was becoming all too familiar to you. He suddenly wished you a goodnight, and you did the same, feeling his heated gaze searing into your back as you ascended the stairs.

Sleep did not come easy to you. In fact, it smoothly evaded you for days, and the already dark circles beneath your eyes became even more prominent. Your mother and sister were used to your inconsistent sleep schedule, accustomed to the haggard appearance your face would take sometimes. If Mr. Holmes noticed, however, he did not mention it. Of course, that was a silly thing to think. He noticed everything, and it was no surprise to you to find him in the lounge room late one night.

The flames licked at the inside of the fireplace, casting a low light over the room. His daunting form was seated in your father’s chair, and neither one of you greeted each other as you made your way into the room. Sometimes on particularly trying nights, you liked to curl up with a book by the fireplace in hopes that it would lull you to sleep. You had a sneaking suspicion that Mr. Holmes knew this, hence his presence, and you sighed.

You didn’t wish to be alone with him, and you had every intention of making your way back to bed, but some part of you scolded yourself for your treatment of the detective. He was only doing his job, after all. You knew that your wariness of him was no fault of his, and you guiltily made your way to your father’s bar.

“Would you like a drink before I head back to bed?” you asked him, already reaching for a glass.

He didn’t respond, and you glanced up to find his gaze still on the roaring flames, a hand resting against his mouth, eyes thoughtful. You reached for one of your father’s more expensive selections just as Mr. Holmes spoke.

“He’s beneath the garden…isn’t he?”

You did not falter in your movements, but you could not stop the way your stomach churned, threatening to expel everything you’d eaten that day. You set the bottle down, and your hand shook around it. Your lips parted, but no words came out, and you snapped them shut, swallowing.

“I beg your pardon?” you eventually responded.

“I took on this case to pass some time really. It seemed simple enough to me. Your father had been murdered…that much was clear,” he quietly said.

Your throat felt incredibly thick all of a sudden, and your heart clenched in your chest, painfully so.

“However, it was only a matter of who.”

You felt tears spring forth, but they held off, collecting in your eyes as he continued.

“Your mother seemed the obvious choice, too obvious even, and I was proven right when I met her. She loved your father dearly, and I’d be a fool to think she could ever bring harm to him. I considered your sister next. Naturally. She is impulsive and wild, but that is precisely why she was ruled out. She’s not, how would my brother say it, refined?”

You briefly closed your eyes in defeat.

“No. Not like you…”

He stood to face you, and the tears finally spilled over when his troubled gaze met yours in the low lighting.

“She has not mastered the skills to truly be a lady. She has not learned to hold her tongue or hide her thoughts or school her features so that they are the picture-perfect vision of decorum and poise…to show the world only what you wish for them to see.”

His smooth voice did not bring you comfort, and you fought to hold his gaze as he neared you.

“…but you have. You’ve mastered it quite well, in fact.”

You opened your mouth, but no words came out, only a shaky exhale.

“Many people in town mentioned your mother’s clumsiness. Her constant aches and faint bruises…bruises you’ve been tending to for a while…”

He stopped before you, eyes somber.

“He was hitting her. Probably much more than that. When did you first discover it?”

Again, words failed you, and he shook his head, a dark curl brushing his forehead.

“That tidbit is not relevant, so don’t bother to answer that.”

“Mr. Holmes-.”

“You referred to their marriage in the past tense. You lock the door at night because you know that he is never coming home.”

You wrapped your arms around yourself.

“Crown imperial is an interesting flower to plant, most people avoiding them because of the putrid smell. Of course, a flower like that would cover up the smell of decaying flesh rather nicely,” he mused. “I know it happened in the living room.”

Your eyes widened at that.

“That plant on the table…there’s hardly any soil in it at all, the only one in the entire house like it. That and the pinches of soil on the carpet beneath it tells me that it had been knocked over. It matches the few grains found in your sheets,” he explained.

You blinked at him.

“You were evidently in a hurry to clean it up and get back into bed. After all, it must have been rather early in the morning at that point… This was after you buried him correct?”

Reluctantly, you gave a shaky nod, confirming his accusations for the first time. He pressed his hand to his mouth again, the other on his hip as he paced, brows furrowed.

“The only thing I cannot seem to figure out is how you did it…”

“…belladonna,” you softly said, speaking for the first time that evening.

He looked at you, and you held his gaze, tears at bay for the moment.

“My father never misses a nightcap,” you told him with a shrug. “Large doses of belladonna can be-.”

“Fatal,” he finished for you, and you looked away.

“So…what happens now? Surely you mean to turn me in…hand me over to the police to answer for my crime,” you tearfully said.

He didn’t say anything, and the only noise in the room for a while was that of the crackling fireplace. Eventually, you heard him approach you again, and you flinched when his hands landed on your arms. Reluctantly, you looked at him, and his eyes flitted over your face, unsure of what to settle on. His thumbs brushed along your bare skin, and your throat bobbed.

“I should,” he whispered to himself, brows drawn together as he studied you. “I should turn you in immediately.”

He stepped closer, and you could feel his body heat, practically feel his heartbeat beneath his chest. His hands tightened on you for a brief moment before loosening his hold.

“…but I can’t,” he confessed through clenched teeth.

Confusion filled you, and your lips parted in shock. His eyes seemed to be drawn to the action, gaze lingering on your mouth for far too long.

“I…I don’t understand…”

He drank you in, gaze vexed, like you confounded him. One of his hands slid to your neck, fingers brushing your jaw, and you sharply inhaled, lips trembling.

“Even now…I still cannot figure you out,” he murmured to himself.

Your confusion grew, frown deepening, and you watched as he suddenly blinked, taking a step back. It took longer for him to finally let you go, and his face appeared strained, movements stiff as if it took everything in him to do so. He took a few more steps back, getting as far away from you as possible before he spoke again.

“There is no doubt in my mind that you very well could kill me in my sleep, but I trust that you won’t.”

Your eyes widened when he made to leave, and you called to him. He paused in the doorway, fists clenched at his side as he refused to look at you.

“W-what…what will you tell them? What will you tell my mother?”

Your voice was but a whisper, disbelief coursing through you at this turn of events. His shoulders heaved as he sighed.

“…nothing for you to worry about…Y/N.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the sound of your name falling from his lips, and before you could process what he had said, he was gone.

“He…he’s simply run off?”

You leaned your head against the wall as you listened in on the conversation taking place in the dining room, and your heart constricted as her soft sobs reached your ears. You couldn’t imagine the feeling of fretting over someone for weeks, fearful for their wellbeing only to discover that they weren’t hurt at all. The opposite, in fact.

Only, it was a lie.

As you listened to Mr. Holmes spin the believable tale of your father running off with some mistress, you thought to yourself that the truth would have been better. Your mother could move past the truth. She could heal from the truth. How was she meant to heal from this?

You quietly pushed yourself off of the wall and made your way past the doorway. As you passed, your eyes caught those of Mr. Holmes, his heavy stare boring into you, and guilt tore through you as you caught sight of your mother’s distraught form.

No, the truth would have been far better. Your mother, the loving and strong woman that she was, deserved to know the truth, and you intended to give it to her.

Hours later when darkness fell, you found yourself outside, yanking out flower and vegetable roots. Thunder rumbled far off in the distance, and a light sprinkle of rain dampened your hair and dress. Tears soaked your cheeks as you dug through the dirt, sobs wracking your frame. You had buried him deep, and now that had come back to haunt you.

Or so you thought.

A startled gasp left your lips as firm hands yanked you to your feet from behind, and your eyes were wide as you were spun around to face none other than Sherlock Holmes. Lightning flashed behind him, illuminating his angry features, and you shrank in on yourself underneath his harsh gaze.

“What the devil do you think you are doing?”

More tears fell, and you shook your head.

“I cannot do this! I cannot go along with this lie any longer,” you told him.

His eyes softened, but his jaw ticked at your words.

“Y/N,” he sighed your name.

“Thank you for what you’ve done, Mr. Holmes, but I cannot bear to see my mother hurting like this over a lie. The truth…the truth will be much easier for her heart to bear,” you gasped.

You fought to get out of his hold, but he proved to be as strong as he looked.

“I cannot allow you to do this-.”

“Why not? You’ve solved the case! The great Sherlock Holmes figured it out, and soon my name and face will be plastered on papers everywhere as everyone learns what I did,” you cried.

“You were protecting your mother,” he argued.

“In the eyes of the law, I am still a murderess. I have reason to believe that you would agree with them,” you scoffed. “…why are you protecting me?”

He didn’t respond, and you huffed, jerking in his hold again, but he wouldn’t budge. The rain was coming down a little harder now, and your vision was blurry from both the weather and your tears. Your knees started to buckle as your movements slowed, and you would have collapsed to the ground if Mr. Holmes hadn’t been holding you.

He leaned you against your tree, and your fingers twisted into his rain-soaked shirt as tears skipped down your cheeks. He still hadn’t answered your question, and your eyes reluctantly met his. He looked at you like he had been looking at you for weeks, and that unfamiliar feeling returned…as well as the fear.

“You are not nearly as fragile as I initially thought you to be,” he quietly said, puzzling you.

He continued before you could voice your confusion.

“…but you are not nearly as tough as I thought you to be either.”

He reached up to brush his thumb over your lip, and you jerked, eyes widening at the action. Your heart felt like it was threatening to leap from your chest, and a thought suddenly occurred to you that had never occurred to you before.

“You have plagued my thoughts for weeks,” he confessed, making you freeze. “…entering my dreams the very moment I first had my suspicions.”

“Mr. Holmes…”

“Who would think that someone like you would be capable of such a thing,” he mused, genuine bewilderment on his features. “…and yet…I still want you so.”

Dread began to fester in your gut, and you pushed against his chest, but it proved to be useless. He pressed his forehead against yours, eyes boring into your own.

“Sh-Sherlock,” you said, hoping that hearing his name from your lips would snap him out of it, knock some clarity into him, but it seemed to have the opposite effect.

His fingers tightened, enough to make you wince, and his eyes fluttered close, a long exhale leaving him.

“Y/N,” he whispered your name like it was a prayer. “How do you manage…to be half heaven…and half hell?”

The words had barely left his lips before he fiercely pressed them against yours, startling you. A horrified gasp left you, and he clutched you to him, breathing you in as he moved his mouth over yours. He only seemed to take note of his actions when your palm met his cheek.

You stumbled back, hands grasping along your tree as he took a step back. His lips were swollen, hair damp and eyes troubled as he blinked at you. You pressed one hand into the tree behind you, the other to your chest as you stared at him in fear. Your chest was heaving just as much as his.

“Forgive me,” he whispered.

He swallowed, at least having the gall to look ashamed. You stared at one another for a painfully long time, ruminating on what he’d done, the line that he’d crossed. You didn’t move, too afraid to, and Sherlock’s jaw clenched as he eyed you.

His hands curled into fists at his side, features twisted with a myriad of emotions that you couldn’t place. There seemed to be a struggle going on, and your lip trembled as he dragged his eyes over your wet frame, Adam’s apple bobbing as he swallowed. His dark hair was damp from the rain, the strands curling around his ears and kissing his forehead.

His lips parted ever so slightly, and he straightened as his eyes finally met yours again. You watched the way his nostrils flared, a carnal hunger in his eyes that terrified you to the bone.

“Forgive me,” he whispered again, apologizing for something that he hadn’t done, but was instead about to do.

You turned and ran past your tree, but he was already upon you before you could even get in three steps. His muscular arms wrapped around you, holding you to him as he buried his nose in the crook of your neck, lips trailing kisses over your damp skin.

You reached back to tangle your fingers in his hair, attempting to pull his head away from you, but he only groaned against your skin. Fresh tears escaped, and you shuddered as he pressed himself against you, hard and threatening against your dress.

Your back met your tree, and Sherlock was quick in pressing his lips to yours. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, noises of protest escaping your lips as you pushed against him. You were sobbing when he finally broke the kiss, and you shook your head, pleas falling from your lips.

“Don’t do this,” you begged, knowing you were no match for him and accepting that pleading was your only chance. “Please, don’t- you’ll ruin me.”

Your eyes searched his.

“I’ll never be able to find a husband, to give my mother some form of happiness again after what I did. Let me make her happy,” you shakily whispered.

His brows were furrowed as he gazed at you, and his hands felt incredibly hot on your waist. The light rain had passed now, leaving only a partly cloudy sky and a bright moon to shine down on you. Sherlock closed his eyes as he pressed his forehead to yours, thumbs tracing patterns into your waist.

“…I suppose I will be your husband then.”

He gently shushed you as you cried, softly pressing his lips to yours. He didn’t budge no matter how hard you pushed against him, and you shook as he hooked one of your legs onto his waist. One of his hands pressed into the back of your head while the other tore at the skirt of your dress, all the while he kept you pinned between him and the tree.

It suddenly occurred to you that this was your punishment. This was your comeuppance for what you’d done. It didn’t matter that your father hurt your mother on a regular basis, murder was wrong, and you were being punished for it.

You cried harder when you both felt and heard him releasing himself, and the cool air you felt against your core told you that Sherlock had ripped away every barrier between you two. His lips were gentle on yours, and his entry did not differ from that.

He was slow in pushing inside of you, and you hit against his shoulder, mouth parted in a silent scream as he stretched you. Your nails dug into him when he could go no further, and a long moan lowly left his lips, satisfaction dripping from every note. You blinked back tears as he pressed his hands into the bottom of your thighs, keeping them at his waist as he held you to him.

He slowly moved within you, and one hand held onto him to keep from falling while the other dug into the bark of the tree behind you. He kissed you again, and you turned your head away. He let out a soft growl of frustration before pulling away from the tree.

You yelped and shuddered when your back met the cold damp ground, but your yelp turned into a gasp when he firmly thrust into you. It was a feeling unlike any other you’d ever known, and you squeezed your eyes shut, one hand fisted into his shirt while the other did the same to the grass.

You felt full, but it was an uneasy feeling, like you shouldn’t be full. Every drag of his member pulled a whimper from you, and your face crumbled when he pressed kisses to it, trying to bring some comfort to you while he had his way with you.

“You feel exactly as I dreamed you would,” he whispered.

You sniffed beneath him, core protesting his assault, no matter how gentle it was. You pushed against him again, but he gripped your hand, bringing it to his mouth, and a shiver traveled down your spine as he brushed his lips over the inside of your wrist. He held your gaze as he held your wrist to his lips, and the intensity behind his eyes scared you.

“I meant what I said,” he murmured. “I have every intention of marrying you.”

Somehow, the fact that he was telling the truth scared you more than the thought of him abandoning you. He was going to take you away from your mother and sister, and then who would look out for them? A shaky sob escaped your lips, and he shushed you again, hips curving into yours over and over.

“No one will ever discover what you did. I’ll see to it,” he told you, kissing you again. “…and I’ll make sure your family is well cared for.”

His breath hitched, pace changing, and your toes curled on their own accord.

“Why?” you tearfully gasped as he nipped at your neck. “Why…?”

He paused his movements, holding himself inside of you as he looked down at you. You felt defeated, and the only thing left was confusion, bafflement at why you. He brushed his fingers over your tear-stained cheek, eventually ghosting them over your swollen lips. Sherlock looked at you like you were the most magnificent creature he’d ever seen, and your stomach turned.

“…so much of you is still a mystery to me, and even if I never figure you out…”

He brushed his soft lips against yours.

“…at least you are mine.”

  ~

tags:  @darkficreposter​​ @xoxabs88xox​​ @harryspet​​ @readermia​​ @opheliadawnwalker3​ @nickyl316h​​ @captainchrisstan​​ @sebabestianstan101​​ @villanellevi​​ @lokislastlove​​ @notyourtypicalrose​​ @coconutqueen21​​ @hurricanerin​ @trinittyy​ @hyoyeoniie​ @kellyn1604​ @sherrybaby14​ @jtargaryen18​

[kiame-sama]

Could you do a Yandere Silva where the reader is getting hit on by a butler with a death wish and Silva freaks and it ends with rough sex where reader won’t be able to walk👀🍵

Warnings; lemon, rough behavior, yandere relationship, yandere behavior, mentioned non-con, reader gets threatened, reader has female parts, oral (female receiving), oral (male receiving), 69, peak into the yandere mind of an assassin,

~~~~~~~~

You sat quietly in your room, relaxing back on the large couch and idly listening to whatever was currently on the TV. It had been a fairly quiet day, but most days were quiet (other than when Silva decides he needs attention). You were rather bored, slightly considered taking a nap or even calling for Silva just for some kind of entertainment.

Just as you were in the middle of deciding what to do, the door slowly began to open. This immediately put you on guard since the only ones who would enter your room tended to fling it open despite how unbelievably heavy the door actually was. You were quick to retrieve your panic button, a distress alert Silva had given you just in precaution for someone getting to your room. It only happened once that some fool decided to kidnap you without anyone knowing until you were already gone, but he made certain it would never happen again.

You fiddled with the small device nervously, watching the door with great anticipation for whoever it was on the other side. You were surprised to see a man you had never met before. He wore a suit identical to that of the butlers that worked in the manor, but all of the butlers should know better than to even come within twenty feet of your room.

"So you're the famous Zoldyck treasure. I can certainly see why."

He looked you up and down, making you feel far more exposed than you actually were. The man was blond and had bright blue eyes that seemed to glimmer in the light of your cell. He was fairly tall, though not as tall as Silva, and he had sun-kissed tan skin. The way he looked at you like a piece of meat made your skin start to crawl, so you subtly pressed the button and hoped that this man wouldn't have the time to do anything to you.

"You're quite the big mystery. Most here don't know what's in this room, and It's even one of the most enforced rules; don't go near this room. I can see why you're considered a treasure, a lovely thing like you would attract a lot of attention. But, I don't see why you're kept away from everyone like this. Can you tell me?"

"..."

"It's okay, I don't bite, unless you want me to. You must be such a fragile little thing, being locked up like this for your safety."

"I'm not locked up for my own benefit."

"Oh?"

"I'm here because my husband doesn't like sharing."

This, instead of making the man back off like you thought it would, the man only seemed to become more interested in you due to your words. He began a slow approach towards you, making you retreat until your back was pressed against the wall and he was mere inches away from you. You tried to turn your head away from him, keeping as much distance as possible between the two of you, knowing just how Silva will react.

"He doesn't have to know... Isn't it exciting, though? Sneaking around like this."

"No."

"Oh come on, live a little, sweetheart."

"Leave me alone."

"Nah, I don't think I will. In fact, no one even knows I'm here, so no one will come check on you. I could do so many things to your tight little body with the time I have... And no one would even hear you cry for help."

"Stop- Stop it."

"So scared. Good. I like 'em scared. You're gonna be so much f-"

He was suddenly cut off by the door slamming open with enough force to make the walls shake, him turning on his heel to confront whoever just arrived. You were quick to slide past the stunned man as he turned away from you, hurriedly making it to Silva's side and hiding behind him. The man had a look of pure terror on his face, clearly not expecting the terrifying assassin to appear.

You gripped tightly to the back of Silva's shirt, pressing your forehead against his broad back as you hid from the intruder that had threatened you so gleefully. The small glimpse you got of Silva's expression was enough to tell you everything you needed to know. He wasn't just mad, he was furious. Luckily, none of that fury was directed towards you.

Not only were his burning blue eyes filled with pure hate, they seemed to glow in the light of the room with a predatorial glint. He never really seemed to smile anyway, but his expression wasn't his usual scowl, it was akin to the stone-cold expression of a wild animal ready to kill. There was a palpable hate in the air that made it quite clear Silva had no intention to let the man live.

"Did he do anything to you?"

"He threatened me."

A low hum that sounded more like a growl rumbled from his chest, clearly displeased. The man had yet to move from his original spot, frozen in terror at the intimidating visage of your furious husband. Had the situation been different, and had the man not threatened you, you would have felt pity for him, but you felt no pity now.

"Explain."

"Wha-What?"

"Explain just what you are doing in my wife's room."

The man had already been terror stricken, but now all of the color disappeared from his face as he realized just how stupid his decision had been. He had assumed you were just another family member, maybe a sister or daughter. He only began to now realize just how fucked he was. Even though he was a relatively new butler, he knew of Silva's infamous temper and he also knew to never talk about Silva's wife, lest he wish for the most painful death possible.

He had seen Kikyo around, and since Kalluto was always trailing behind, he had assumed that she was Silva's wife and did his damndest to stay away from her and stay out of her path. He had heard stories about what would happen to anyone who took any level of interest in Silva's wife, but he had just figured it was meant as a basic warning about the woman herself. Yet here he was, staring at the most terrifying man he had ever encountered after just having threatened and attempted to force himself onto the very woman he was warned to never speak of.

"Well?"

"I- I didn't- I hadn't- but-"

"You've already exceeded my patience, filth."

"I'm- I'm sorry! I didn't know who she was! I wouldn't have said those things to her if-"

"Said what 'things'?"

"..."

You pulled away to look up at your towering husband, seeing him glance over his shoulder at you, his eyes far more gentle and loving. The glance was a clear prompt to speak, and you'd rather not push Silva's buttons at that moment, given his unyielding rage about to overflow.

"He threatened to rape me and said no one would hear me scream."

There was a sudden change in the entire room the moment you finished your sentence. It was a crushingly heavy pressure that seeped into every corner like a rolling miasma, consuming everything. The pressure quickly lifted from you, allowing you to breathe though it was clear the intruder did not receive the same kindness as he choked and dropped to his knees.

If you thought Silva was mad before, he was as tame as a kitten in comparison to the rage that now consumed him. You were well aware of Silva's knowledge in ways to kill a man, but it seemed more like he was interested in a slow drawn out slaughter. He never once looked away from the terrified man, even as he spoke in a gentle tone to you.

"(Y/n), go wait in our room. Don't come out until I tell you to."

"Alright..."

Quickly scrambling to the room you two shared, you caught a glimpse at Silva's expression and felt your heart drop into your stomach. Even though you knew he was not angry with you at all, that look alone sent fear running down your spine and into your very being. You closed the door and sat on your bed, hearing a sudden shrill voice begin screaming.

It wasn't hard for you to guess the kind of mood Silva would be in once he was done dealing with the man. There was no doubt in your mind he was going to be rough as well, knowing how he got when jealous. You also knew he would be jealous as all hell due to the man being in your room. It may not have been your fault and the man may be dead, but with Silva, jealousy didn't fade away.

There were few things you could do at that point to soften Silva's mood, and honestly him being rough wasn't that bad (so long as he doesn't break your bones). Given how terrifying just a glance at him was, you figured you'd do something that should brighten his mood and help soothe his jealousy a bit. You dug through your clothes picking out your white and blue lingerie- Silva's favorite for obvious reasons- and waited on the bed.

The screams had yet to stop, though they certainly took on a more gurgling tone the longer it went. You shivered slightly, wondering just what Silva was doing to the man, since he was an expert at torturing people. Though he has hurt you in the past- most being accidental- you know just how strong he is and just how deeply his few emotions impact him. Looking from the outside, he feels nothing, but with you he is extremely expressive in everything he does.

You lay back on the bed, thinking about how much you truly impacted him and how much your wellness meant to him. Hell, the man would move heaven itself if you wanted him to. He was the dominant partner, but he was also a slave to your every emotion.

While you let yourself get lost in thought, you slowly slipped off to sleep with Silva's pillow cuddled in your arms.

Movement on the bed drew you out of your peaceful slumber, letting out an upset whine at being woken. You were slightly disoriented from your sudden awakening and blearily blinked the sleep out of your eyes. As your brain began to fully wake as well, you realized that Silva was right above you, his large hands on either side of your head.

There was a faint feeling of surprise as you noticed not a speck of blood on the giant man. You figured he would have been soaked in the blood of that idiot butler, but not a single fleck of red marred his flawless skin.

"Trying to cheer me up?"

There was the slightest of smiles pulling at his lips as his eyes slowly dragged over your barely covered figure, letting out a low hum of pleasure and licking his lips slowly. He seemed almost too calm at that moment, but you knew the beast that dwells within would easily come forth once he began.

"It certainly does help..."

"I thought it would be nice to surprise you... but I guess I fell asleep before you came back."

"You are a wonderful creature, (y/n), did you know that?"

"Well, there has to be some reason you keep me around."

"Sassy thing."

His tone was teasing, but you knew he wouldn't be teasing you for very long, not with the way his sharp blue eyes roamed your body. He sat up, now letting his hands roam your soft body and squeezing every few seconds. No matter what mark may be on you- be it a scar, a birthmark, a mole, didn't matter- he adored you and held such reverence for you. Even when you gain or lose weight, you are a Goddess in his eyes, and he made sure to treat his Goddess well.

"Mmm, you do know how to rile me up."

"Lots of practice."

You reached up to run your fingers through his hair, watching his eyes narrow in bliss from your gentle touch. When you suddenly tightened your grip and tugged on his long hair, that calm expression changed in an instant. He was now less of a man than he was a beast, moving you suddenly so your legs rest on his shoulders, your back against the pillows.

He didn't say a single word as he gripped the lacy panties you wore between his teeth, pulling back in one smooth motion and ripping the delicate fabric with ease. You were about to whine at the destruction of his favorite set but you didn't even manage to get a single word out before he buried his head between your thighs, tongue easily sliding through your soft folds. He didn't bother with being slow in working you up, he just slid his tongue as deeply into you as he could to slurp up your juices.

The noises coming from him were obscene as he sucked on your soft pussy, low moans vibrating against you as he gripped your legs tighter, pulling you closer to his mouth. You ran your fingers through his hair, gripping tightly and tilting your head back with breathy moans. He held your hips still, making it so you were unable to do anything other than writhe in the pleasure he gave you.

It was clear that him holding you still was more of a dominance thing to reassure himself and soothe his burning jealousy more than it was to show his dominance over you. He was using your presence and your sweet moans as his own validation of being your one and only. Reminding himself- and in some ways, you- that you were still his and he had no intention of sharing you in any way.

You truly have only had honest social interaction with three people on a consistent basis and your five children on the odd occasion for more than twenty years. If that didn't give you a good visualization of how deep his jealousy runs, then it would be the contempt he has for his own children. As far as he was concerned, you only truly needed him in your life and no one else would have the chance or ability to get between the two of you.

He was much like a religious zealot with how fiercely he coveted you and everything about you. His tongue was as deep in you as possible while his large thumb rubbed your clit, blue eyes closed in bliss as if he truly received deep pleasure from taking care of you and pleasuring you like a wild animal did its mate. You were his everything, and he wanted your everything desperately enough he had you kidnapped only days after meeting you, already in deep obsession and fanatical adoration for you.

Continuing with endless stamina, he brought you up to mindless pleasure and kept you there, every whining cry you made only served to fuel his desire and increase blood-flow to his achingly hard cock. In typical Silva fashion, he completely ignored his own needs to not only ensure your pleasure, but to test himself to see how long he could listen to you moan before snapping and giving in to the starving beast within him. He was quite the dominant masochist when it came down to it, always adoring every scratch and mark you make on his fair skin but also making sure he was the one on top and in control.

With a loud sucking sound, he pulled away from your soaked pussy, licking his lips with hazy bliss filled eyes never leaving your shaking form. He was completely lost in his desire to possess all of you, and he gently trailed his warm hands up your soft front until he lightly gripped your chin, holding your mouth open. You were faintly worried about what he planned on doing while in such a blissed out state, yelping when he moved you down the bed with both hands before moving so his muscular legs were on either side of your head.

He slid his large cock slowly into your mouth, your jaw stretching a bit further to accommodate the rock-hard length. A deep moan rose up from his chest as he thrusted his hips a few times before returning to digging his tongue into your slick heat. He did the majority of the work to pleasure you both, ensuring to keep himself from making you deep throat him just yet. You reached up to rest your hands on his hips for your own sake should he unintentionally begin to choke you, but to Silva the contact of your gentle hands on his pale skin was overwhelmingly intense.

He was extremely touch starved when it came to you due to his distant and cold upbringing despite how much physical contact he actually had with you on a regular basis. Just another reason for him to be obsessed with the touch of your skin and the feel of your body against his. Each small brush of your hand anywhere on his body sent intense sensations running through his very being. To feel not a hint of affection during the critical developmental beginning years of his life left him distant and made him believe all outside touch would bring only pain.

Of course, when he met you, his entire world changed drastically. Your touch was gentle and brought no pain with it, only the sweet sensation of honest care and empathy. He had to have you, and only you. Only your touch brought him such calming pleasure and consuming affection. Even as he bucked his hips into your warm mouth, he was past cloud 9 in absolute bliss, sinking his tongue into your extremely wet pussy and almost desperately trying to bring you the same level of pleasure that he felt even when simply in your presence.

That's what he always tried to do.

He felt so much from and for you that he couldn't help but attempt to reciprocate that pleasure any chance he got. His addiction to your touch was likely why you two were still so sexually active even after decades together, that and Silva used that intimate connection to soothe his own mind consuming anxiety. It was why he became so irritable whenever he is away from your side for more than 24 hours. His mind drowns him in anxiety with every outcome of you being attacked while he is away.

It would destroy him to know something hurt you or you were unwell in some way while he was gone. He would feel like he failed you as your husband and that he failed you as your protector. He refused to fail. The cost would be too great.

You, on the other hand, happened to be lost in the feelings of pleasure running through your veins, to the point you didn't honestly notice much other than the warm cock in your mouth and the hot tongue on your pussy. Every moan you made only made that large length twitch and throb, feeling the slide of your tongue against his flesh as you let your fingers slide over his hips. It was clear he enjoyed it as he let out deep moans and growls of pleasure, holding himself back as long as possible.

Just when you felt the pulse of his heartbeat flutter, he pulled away from you, leaving you confused and slightly dazed. He was watching you try to collect your thoughts, proud he made you so delirious with pleasure that you needed time to return to awareness. His movements were slow and methodical as he positioned himself between your legs, raising your hips up so he could slide through your soft folds.

"Look at me, (y/n)."

His deep voice drew your scattered attention, staring up into his intense blue eyes in an almost questioning way. There was a moment of silence as he stared at you in adoration, not looking away from you as he slowly slid his firm length into you, watching the way you gasped and writhed on the bed. He gave you only a moment to adjust to his size once more before he began to thrust into your welcoming body, drowning in the tight embrace of your warm insides.

You moved up and down on the bed with each rough thrust, clawing at the sheets beneath you. Silva pound into you with such intensity you could barely draw in a breath before it was being forced back out with another rough thrust. He leaned over your writhing and mewling form to start pressing open mouthed kissed against your neck, biting down a few times to hear you yelp and whine. You wrapped your arms around him and let your nails bite down on his fair skin, shivering from his rumbling moan directly against you ear.

As you felt your orgasm creeping up with alarming speed, you reached up to his hair and gripped on the long locks, tugging hard enough to remove his lips from your neck. You had to stop tugging on his hair and just cling to him as his thrusts became rougher, pressing one of his hands against your soft stomach and feeling the way he moved inside of you. The increased sensation of his large cock rubbing against your tight walls practically made you scream in delight, your pleasure overwhelming and consuming you as your orgasm flooded your body.

"So tight..! You are mine. You will always be mine. I'll never let you go. I'll never let you forget."

You barely registered his crooning words due to your overstimulated nerves sizzling in your brain. He adored the hazy look in your eyes as you were consumed by the pleasure he provided you. That sweet expression on your lovely face was enough to push him over the edge, his hot cum painting your soft insides with every intense pulse.

When he finally pulled out of you, you were still trying to catch your breath and clung to his body with all of the remaining energy you had. The low humming chuckle that came from him was a soft and soothing rumble that was quite like the purr of some feral beast. You curled close to his warm body, snuggling down into his grasp as he pulled the blanket over the both of you, kissing your forehead gently.

"Mine."

[forever-rogue]

Can you do one where reader (who's partners with them) goes on a date and Javi happens to already be at the same bar the date takes place and at one point the reader doesn't feel good so she seeks out Javi and he quickly realizes she's been roofied?

I love protective Javi, but then again, don’t we all?

Warnings: drug mention, mention of violence, mentions of sex but nothing descriptive, language, 18+ only!

Javier Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

Javier was a lot of things. A walking contradiction as much as he was steadfast in his ways. When you’d first met him, you’d been severely tempted to punch him right in his smug handsome face with that stupid charming grin, and that singular dumb dimple that already made your heart flutter.

It was your first day on the job, a fresh, brand new agent and the bastard had the nerve to ask you to fetch him a coffee. Not only that, but the way he had the balls to end the request with a slow, drawn sweetheart.

You’d exchanged a wry look with Steve, the golden haired man you already decided you liked much better. He had shrugged innocently and turned back to his papers with what you were positive was a smug little grin on his face. Back then you’d been annoyed, but looking back on it now, several years later, you realized it had been a sort of pseudo-test; to see if you’d meld into Javi’s advances or hold your own.

“No,” you’d told Javier firmly, watching as surprise look slowly crept into his features, “go fuck yourself and get your own coffee, old man.”

You’d never seen Steve laugh harder or Javier more in shock than that morning. To say you had proven yourself to both men was an understatement.

To say you ended up developing feelings for that stupid, dark haired, motherfucker was a gross understatement. Fallen in head first and through stuck in lust love with him was a much more accurate sentiment. Although you would never admit that to him or anyone else, let alone yourself.

Instead you settled on other things.

I love your cock. I love when you fuck me like this. I love when you use your mouth on me.

Yeah...it had quickly turned into that.

But Javier reciprocated in kind.

I love your pussy, just like you were made for me. I love when you get on your knees. I love how you look covered in my cum.

It was a lot of lust turned into love, but neither of you would ever admit that. Besides, it was never going to amount to anything; it was just some stress relief between two coworkers that understood each other more intimately than anyone else. No one knew the horrors of what either of you when through on a daily basis. But the two of you knew, and took solace in that fact.

You weren’t sure when the lines became so blurred, but you were almost positive it was around the same time that Javier made your relationship trysts an exclusive thing. No one else, just you and Javi. And damn. You liked that more than anything else.

But it wasn’t going to last forever; no, you knew that well from the start. What started out a one time thing that slowly stretched into more was never going behind that. You were sure of it, despite how good, how alive and protected and safe he made you feel, it was never going anywhere besides your dirty secret. Even the brightest stars burned out at some point.

Which is why when an agent from another department, a non-noteworthy average man, asked you out for dinner and drinks you said yes. It wasn’t an enthusiastic yes by any means, and the way your eyes had flicked to Javier before you agreed to go wasn’t lost on either of you. But he remained still and said nothing while you offered up a small yes.

Before the end of the day, you’d wandered over to his desk, ready to explain yourself, but he was quick to cut you off, not even looking up from his papers. You’re free to see anyone, Dulzura, he insisted in a gruff tone, have fun.

The part that hurt was the most was the fact that he didn’t bother to stop you as you walked out, even lingering for a moment at the door. The light bit of foolish hope you’d clung onto was for no reason after all. But at least you had an answer now. Javier was nothing more than a release.

»»————-　♡　————-««

All this nodding and smiling was going to give you a sore face and a headache, you realized. For a man that seemed so unassuming, he sure did love talking about himself. At one point when you drifted off from the conversation and let your mind wander, you’d looked across the crowded bar, and noticed him.

Of course he’d decided to come here to unwind after a long. Typical. Part of you momentarily wondered if he’d overheard you making your plans in order to come and watch you, but you weren’t going to flatter yourself that much. Chances, coincidence, mere happenstance. Besides that, it was a popular bar, and not an unsurprising place to find anyone on a Friday night.

But when you’d caught his eye, he offered you only a stiff little half smile, and you could visibly see the muscles in his neck stiffen as you raised your glass lightly in a mock salute. It didn’t a genius to figure out he was in a bad mood.

After some time, when you’d downed your greasy bar food, and finished off yet another drink, you still found yourself unable to handle your date. You couldn’t just sneak out, no that would be too obvious and awkward, especially come Monday when you were all back at the office. Instead, you settled on excusing yourself to use the restroom, hoping that if you spent long enough there he would take the hint.

Slipping off the stool, you almost dashed to the bathroom, making your way through the crowd and brushing against past Javier. He watched you bolt away with a curious expression, wondering what had caused the sudden escape. Internally sighing, he studied the man that was your date and frowned. You could have chosen anyone in the world, preferably him, but you’d chosen David of all the people. The man was a joke, a downright fool, and yet you’d said yes.

Fuck. But he could only blame himself. He’d never made a move, and every time he wanted to, especially after you started falling asleep in his arms, he talked himself out of it. It was just sex and companionship, he was sure of it. And now? Well, he been a fool and missed his chance. He narrowed his eyes at your date, wishing it was socially appropriate to go and beat the shit out of him. But he had reason to, and didn’t need to stir up anything. Instead, he decided to silently simmer, and told himself that he’d cut things off with you soon.

It was the right thing to do. Or so he thought.

He watched as you slowly flounced back and downed the rest of your drink, pretending to be engaged in conversation. He knew that face anywhere; the one you used when you feigned interest. Usually it made him laugh, but no? It caused a pit in the bottom of stomach.

But Javier was determined to stay, to keep an eye on you. Something in his gut was telling him that was something was off. And although he knew his instincts were clouded by his overwhelming feelings for you, he always knew that his feelings were rarely wrong.

So he stayed, long after his own companion had left and watched. Watched as you started acting more odd and more strange as you consumed another drink. It was a dramatic shift from your previous demeanor but your date was unphased. At one point, you swayed dramatically in your stool and almost fell to the floor.

Javier almost jumped to his feet as you straightened up and excused yourself again. He could see you mumbling something as the asshole man in question nodding, giving you a grin not unlike that of a wicked wolf.

Slowly stumbling through the crowd you knew something was off. Nothing felt right and the world seemed woozy and far away. You did however, recognize one thing...well, person. Javier. You wobbled over to him on unsure legs as he leaped to his feet, large, strong hands going to your waist to steady you.

“Javi,” your mouth felt heavy and dry and his name came off more than a whimper, a pathetic plea, as you met his dark eyes. His expression was somewhere between intense concern and furious anger as he helped to sick you down in the both, shoving a glass of water at you, “I don’t feel good. Feels weird...wrong. I-I don’t know what to do.”

“Look at me, Dulzura,” he gentle took your chin in his hand as he tried to study your face, but your head kept wanting to lull around. He gritted his teeth as he quickly put two and two together. A growl, primal and instinctive sounded deep in his throat as he look back at your date. Your date that was suddenly mysteriously disappeared.

The rat bastard had made a hasty escape as soon as you saw go to Javi.

He was a dead man.

“Javi,” you mumbled softly, “can you help? Please? I know you hate me now, but I dunno what to do.”

“I could never hate you,” he insisted as he held up the water for you to drink. You made quick work of downing it, feeling slightly less parched than before but still as miserable. Javi easily scooped you up in his arms, clutching you tightly to his chest as you mumbled incomprehensible things, “we’re going home. I’ve got you now.”

“’s okay Javi,” you managed to get out as you buried your head in his chest, “‘iloveyou.”

He stiffened at your words, unsure if you’d actually said those words, or if he was just a hopeful fool. Either way, that wasn’t his name concern at the moment. Getting you safe and into bed was top priority.

»»————-　♡　————-««

“J-Javi?” your voice cracked on his name as you realized just how dry your throat still was. Blinking the bleariness out of your eyes, you studied your surroundings, only realizing after a few moments that you were in his bedroom. A tall glass of water was on his bedside table, along with some pain killers. You took both without hesitation.

On cue, almost as if he could sense you were awake, a soft knock came on the door before he slowly opened the door. He let out a long exhale of relief when he realized you were awake and seemingly okay. Your eyes were wide and worried with your lips pulled into a small frown.

“How are you feeling?” he came in and sat at the foot of the bed, studying you with those eyes you swore you could see right into your soul. You shrugged as you set the glass down and tried not to cry.

“Alright I guess,” you sighed, feeling like an idiot, “I’m a fool. I can’t believe I let that happen. I don’t know I didn’t see it last night...I’m a fucking DEA Agent and I can’t tell when I’m getting drugged. I should be fired and sent right back home.”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he reached over and gave your knee a gentle squeeze, “it could have happened to anyone. Please don’t blame yourself for it. That guy was a fucking asshole.”

“Javier,” you leaned forward and reached for his hand, taking it gingerly in yours as you studied it. His dominant hand, as well as the other was covered in cuts and bruises, all sorts of colors already and swollen. He made a small sound in the back of his throat as your mouth dropped open, “what happened....Javi. Oh, Javier, please tell me this isn’t what I think it is...”

“He had it coming,” was all he said as he held your hand in his, holding onto it protectively, “he’s lucky I didn’t kill him. I thought about it...”

“What if he tells-”

“I’m not worried about that.”

“Javier-”

“Listen,” he stopped you gently, “I had been thinking about doing it all night. From the moment I saw him with you. This just gave me a reason to do it.”

“What do you mean?” you bit your bottom lip as you met his eyes, the two of you watching each other with a silent intensity as you tried not to let your hopes get the better of you. Javier reached up and gently touched your cheek, brushing his fingers over your soft skin and stopping at your lips, “please don’t say something you don’t mean. Please.”

“Why do you think I won’t mean it?” he asked as you dropped his gaze, playing with your hands as you tried to keep your heart from beating out of your chest, “god, I’ve fucking meant it for years. I just can’t ever say it, but when I saw you with that piece of shit, I knew. I should have just-”

“I love you,” and just like that those three words the both of you had danced around for years were out in the air. And it had been so easy, so simple - effortless. But it didn’t stop the nerves, the fear of rejection, the fear of the unknown. You chanced a peek at him, watched as a look of sheer panic crossed his features before settling into the softest expression you’d ever seen.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a slight nod of head, laughing at the absurdity of the situation, “that’s what I’ve been trying to say.”

“Say it then, asshole,” you laughed lightly, feeling your heart settle as your normal rapport started to bubble through, “or you can kiss my ass.”

“I’m not opposed to that-”

“Javier,” you jokingly groaned as he pulled you forward, but just enough to press a soft kiss to your lips, “some things never change, huh?”

“Nope,” he laughed, “but it’s true.”

“What?”

“I love you.”

[juniorgman187]

Sleight of Hand (Reid Fic)

Summary: Practical Joker Reader makes the unsuspecting naive Dr. Reid the object of her most recent prank - stealing his ID badge.  Category: Pure Fluff, Drabble, One Shot Pairing: Platonic Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Content Warning: Super brief mentioning of dark nature of job, prank Word Count: 2k

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

Despite what anyone else may believe, or what my resting face may convey, I’m not a mean person. I don’t take pleasure in people’s pain, and I certainly don’t intend to hurt anyone.  

With that being said - I do thoroughly enjoy messing with people from time to time. Which, in my opinion, is a completely different thing than being mean. 

At work, I’m known for pulling harmless pranks. Keyword: harmless. The dark nature that surrounds our job can consume us whole if we let it, and if anyone needs a good laugh here and there, it’s the BAU. Sometimes we all just need reminders that life shouldn’t be taken so seriously, and my silly antics are just the remedy. 

A window of opportunity for my most recent practical joke presented itself when I was packing up to leave for the day. 

Right across my desk was Reid’s and to my right was Derek’s, but at the moment, Reid was parked at the kitchenette, diligently stirring his coffee and copious amounts of sugar packets together while Derek’s head was buried six feet deep in paperwork. I could tell they would both be in for a long night and I didn’t envy them for that. 

“Alright, I’m out!” I announced to them both, but before I could actually get far, Derek stopped me. 

“Wait, (y/n)! Hold up,” He sat up from his chair to reach me with an outstretched arm. “Can you put this back on Reid’s desk?” 

I blinked hard when he tossed an object at me, so only after I caught it did I open my eyes and realize it was just a pen. 

“Wow. Lazy much?” I scoffed, gesturing to Reid’s desk that was less than seven feet away. Derek was probably exerting more effort into stretching out his arm like that to give me the pen as opposed to if he just got off his butt and walked to the desk himself.

“Pleaseee,” He partially begged, causing me to roll my eyes and replace the pen dutifully. As I slipped the pen into its rightful spot in his little cup of writing utensils, something caught my eye.

Lightbulb!

Just sitting there on Spencer’s desk was his badge. It was so carelessly placed in comparison to everything else on the table that had been situated in such a carefully, almost calculated, manner.

I knew Spencer had a habit of taking it off at the end of the day, but it baffled me just how flippantly he treated it. I figured he coveted his badge, but his haphazard placement of it suggested otherwise, while simultaneously showing his humanity to me. He wasn’t so cookie-cutter perfect after all, he could be messy, too.

It was that epiphany that almost made me not want to tamper with it, but it was my own humor that pushed me to do it anyway. 

Maybe it’s time Spencer learned a lesson, rather than being the one to teach it. 

If he was going to just let this thing lie around like it was nothing, then how would he react if it wasn’t there at all? 

I slyly looked up from the badge and to Spencer, whose back was still turned to me in the kitchen and then to Derek, who was too focused on his work to even notice that I was still here. Fully taking advantage of Spencer’s oblivion and the lack of a witness in Derek, I slipped the ID swiftly into my purse. Even if Derek wasn’t the type to be a snitch, it was better that absolutely no one knew.

Less than a millisecond after successfully concealing the badge within my bag, Spencer finally turned around and saw me lingering by his desk.

“What are you still doing here?” He asked with the slightest bit of suspicion in his voice. There was no way he could’ve known what’d I’d just done unless he had eyes at the back of his head, so I stayed calm and collected, relishing in my guaranteed safety.

“Derek wanted me to return your pen,” I explained casually from across the bullpen. I watched as Spencer strolled unhurriedly towards me, and it might’ve been my paranoia that led me to this belief, but I swore I saw his eyes dart to his desk momentarily. However, if he had noticed the absence of his badge, he didn’t say anything. 

“Oh, thanks! Have a good night.” He smiled and waved back to me, showing no indication of mistrust. 

Sucker. 

“You, too!” I said with more zeal than the situation warranted. I was worried that might’ve given me away, but I had timed my escape so perfectly that I was already in the elevator by the time he returned to his desk, giving him no chance to inquire about my uncharacteristic behavior. 

That was a close one. 

When I came in the next morning, Spencer wasn’t there yet. Which was slightly strange given the fact that I was barely on time, so if he came in at any point after my own arrival, Spencer would be considered late for work. Occurrences like that only happen once in a blue moon, and usually, the reason for them are mysterious haircuts or something’s wrong. I hoped for his sake it was the former. 

Now you might consider me an impeccable troublemaker, but I’d first and foremost be rendered outstandingly forgetful. I say this only because I had completely forgotten that I stole Spencer’s badge the night before. But can you blame me? It was stashed away in my purse, hidden to my immediate sight, and the object was so small that it didn’t stick out to me or add an excess of weight in my bag that would serve as an unintentional reminder. It never once crossed my mind, not even when I looked to Derek to ask, “Where’s Reid?”

With a coffee mug in one hand, Derek put his arms out to either side of him and shrugged. Suddenly, the mug precariously shook from the draft created by someone blowing right by him. 

It was Reid.

“Whoa, slow your roll there, Pretty Boy. Almost knocked my coffee over.” Derek reprimanded playfully, clutching on tighter to his precious coffee that almost succumbed to Spencer’s speed when he breezed by.

But rather than apologizing or laughing, Spencer kept on his pursuit. Since the time he got here, his eyes were glued to his desk with determination. Even as he approached his desk, he hadn’t yet acknowledged me or Derek. Instead, he was mumbling to himself while haphazardly sorting through his desk. He was frantic and in disarray, a manner that worried both me and Derek.

“What’s wrong, Reid?” I leaned forward to observe his desk, which by now, was what I had to think was a direct reflection of his brain - completely chaotic. Papers were scattered, books were open to random pages, he even emptied out his well-maintained writing utensil cup. 

“I lost my badge.” He answered with his attention still trained on finding it. Luckily for me, that meant he couldn’t see the sudden smirk that grew on my face as a result of his response. There was no way to hide my entertainment without biting down on my lip to keep it from contorting into a smile or perching my head on my hand and using my knuckles to hide my devilish grin. 

“When’s the last time you had it?” Derek was surprisingly just as concerned as Reid and just as eager to help him find it, even setting down his coffee on his own desk to help Reid sort through his. 

“I always take it off at the end of the day, and I remember setting it on my desk, but I didn’t take it home with me. I don’t recall even leaving here with it, so I must’ve left it somewhere here.” 

At this point, my unbridled enjoyment of this was too much to physically contain, that I actually had to spin my chair a complete 180 degrees just to shield them from the sight of my imminent laughter. 

“(Y/n), do you remember seeing it -” Derek’s voice overpowered my muffled giggles, and when he looked up to ask me that, he would’ve seen my shuddering shoulders from where I was laughing hard, yet noiselessly. I spun my chair back around and looked at him with cool indifference. 

He quickly noted the shade of red I had turned and profiled the situation. But rather than outing me, he followed the instruction of my index finger to my lips and stayed quiet. 

I took his alliance as an opportunity to nonchalantly retrieve the badge from my purse. At a tantalizingly slow pace, I raised it in the air, until it was so high, Reid would be able to see it dangling from my thumb and forefinger. 

“Looking for this?” 

Spencer’s gaze immediately shot upward to look right at the badge, before flashing to me. 

What part of him reacted first, I wasn’t sure. Was it the sigh of relief or the flared nostrils and clenched jaw that came soon after? 

He wasn’t even going to say anything to me before grabbing it from me, that’s how pissed he was. But my quick reflexes lunged me backward at the same moment he reached out to get his badge from me, preventing him from successfully taking it back. I couldn’t believe he actually tried that and thought it would work. 

“Ah, ah, ah,” I wagged my finger left to right to communicate my disapproval. “Not so fast, Pretty Boy. I want something in return.”

He shot me the most deadpan glare. “What do you want?” 

I put my finger to my chin and looked up to coyly think about it, but more so to extend his torture for just a few seconds longer. I could feel him staring a hole into me as he grew more and more impatient. “Well, it’s gotta be something good. I mean, imagine what would’ve happened if this landed in the wrong hands.” 

“Evidently, it did.” He coldly replied. 

“Ouch,” I feigned offense and brought my hand to my chest to clutch my heart with a short gasp. “I’m so hurt,” I said with the biggest pout.

He was not nearly as entertained as I was, and his lack of amusement came in the form of a stoic, “I’ll teach you sleight of hand.” 

My body actually had to reboot at the sound of his proposal. “Wait, are you serious?” I clarified. 

“Yes. It physically pains me every time I watch you try to do it, so I figure it’s better for me if I teach you how to do it properly instead of having to sit through another one of your lousy, pathetic magic tricks.”

I would’ve been offended, but I’d been begging him to teach me sleight of hand for months, so the insults were quickly disregarded by me in case he changed his mind during the time I’d take up being hurt by his cruelty.  

“Deal,” I smirked while handing him his badge back. 

Needless to say, I did teach the good doctor a lesson, but it seems he still hasn’t learned … for why would you teach the biggest practical joker in the office sleight of hand? That only adds to my arsenal of tricks I have up my sleeve to use against my coworkers.

Maybe I should teach Spencer another lesson and see if he learns this time around.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 

reid taglist: @s1utformgg @no-alarms-no-surprises-silence @jemimah-b99 @justanothetfangirl @kylab @rainsong01 @calm-and-doctor @inkstainedwritergirl @rexorangecouny @ashwarren32 @carooliina @fortheloveofcriminalminds @watermelongubler  @obsessedmaggiemay @k-k0129 @aperrywilliams @eevee0722​ @spencersmagic​ @spencerreid-mgg​ @half-blood-dork​ @goldeng1rl8​ @just-a-bunch-of-fandoms​ 

[hyunjilicious]

one more drink [henry cavill - one shot]

Summary: you and Henry attend a fancy party and you decide to be a brat and push his buttons to see what happens. 0,1% plot. SMUT. 3.5k. filth :) feedback makes my day, so maybe tell me what you thought? 

-

“Why don’t you put that drink down, hm?” 

His voice was loud and clear, lips mere inches away from your ear as he secured his arms around your waist to get you to stop dancing.

You were ready to sink into him, but as soon as you saw his intention was to grab the glass out of your hand, you pulled back, and turned to him with a disappointed frown, “Not a chance, Cavill”

“Don’t call me that” he sighed, his head falling to the side, “How much have you had to drink?”

“Not enough” you pouted, nonchalantly bringing your alcoholic beverage to your lips, looking lewdly into his eyes as you took a big sip, “And apparently neither have you”

Had he not been grinning that widely, you would’ve seriously believed he was mad at you. His frown was consuming your entire being, and the cold stare plastered on his eyes begged you to not push his buttons - at least not when there were so many people around, “Why don’t you give me that?” he encouraged, pointing to your tall glass.

You looked down and noticed your perfectly manicured hand and fresh bubbles that were still present in your beverage. In the inebriated state that you were, the aesthetic blew your mind. Without thinking twice, you pulled out your phone with your free hand and opened the instagram app, determined to post it on your story.

The light of the flash reflected beautifully against the intricate design of the glass, but the picture did not turn out as expected.

Just when you pressed the button to capture the image, Henry’s hand grabbed your wrist, snatching the phone out of your hand, “Are you dead set on pissing me off?” he questioned in a low tone, his ice blue eyes pinning you in place.

“I don’t get what the problem is” you whined, waving your hands around your body. Your eyes traveled around the room, scanning the atmosphere, “You think I’m embarrassing you or something?”

“Embarrass me, no? What?” Henry cringed, “But you’re crossing some lines”

“I’m just letting loose”

“Too loose if you ask me” he frowned.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Henry grabbed your waist, and effortlessly spun you around until your back slammed against his chest. He lowered his head over your shoulder, “I’ll let you figure it out”

In front of you, the party was in full swing. People were dancing, chatting, drinking their night away, and in your eyes, there was no problem with that, “Use your words, Cavill, I don’t get it”

“One-” he said in a deeply dominating tone, making all the hairs on your body stand up, “Don’t call me that, and two, I could make you a list of all the men in this room that think about fucking you as we speak, and the fact that you can’t tell who they are, means you drank to much”

There was an internal battle going on inside your mind. The way he put you in your place forced a lump to block your throat, but it would be a lie to say you didn’t enjoy the moment.

“I think you’re pushing it a little” you said, pulling away from his hold and turning to face him.

Henry narrowed his eyes, “If I leave, they’ll swarm around you”

“Then don’t”

“Let’s go sit somewhere” he suggested, nodding his head to the side of the room, where a few arm chairs were available.

“After you” you agreed, and he happily took your hand.

Henry led you to the sitting area, contempt thinking he won this round. But you just saved your cards for later.

When you reached your destination, Henry sat down and opened his arms, motioning for you to sit in his lap. However, you just grabbed his hands, and started swaying to the unfamiliar beat of the song that was playing, arching your back and lowering yourself in front of him.

“You have no idea what you’re asking for” Henry chuckled, shaking his head in disbelief.

“I’m asking for you to have some fun!” you belted.

“This is your idea of fun?”

“Dancing?” you asked, playing dumb, “Yes”

Henry leaned to the side. He propped his elbow on top of the arm rest, bringing his hand up to rub his chin, “Sit down”

“Yes, daddy” you eventually said, knowing just how little patience he had left.

His arms instantly wrapped around your middle, his breathing aggravated by the way you managed to rile him up. And, determined to do more, you started rolling your hips back and forth against his thighs, managing to apply just the tiniest bit of pressure to his crotch.

“The fuck’s gotten into you, hm?” Henry snapped. His hold around you tightened, shaking your entire frame. “Why are you acting like this?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about” you rolled your eyes, bringing your glass up to your lips and scanning the room as you sipped your drink.

It was only a matter of time until he’d drop this overly patient facade. “Look at me when I’m talking to you” he commanded, sinking his fingers into your bare thigh.

“Ouch!” you pouted, despite pain being the last thing on your mind.

“So? The fuck is going on with you, hm?”

“Nothing’s going on with me, you just need to learn how to have fun!”

“Whoring around is your idea of having fun?” he fumed.

You thought about it for a second, and the nodded, fairly convinced, “Could be, yeah”

“Behave for 15 minutes” Henry nodded, his smile giving away just how sure he was you were never going to achieve that, “And then we’ll dance”

“That’s it?” you scoffed, and as soon as he responded - with a smile nod, you breathed out satisfied, “Deal”

Clear as day, he was waiting for you to cave. Henry leaned back in his chair, and with his head hanging playfully to the side, he kept his eyes trained on you. With absolutely no intention to make this easy for you, his burning gaze made your blood boil. Oh, how the tables have turned. 

You took another sip of your drink and then pulled out your phone, counting on Instagram to make the minutes pass faster. And maybe it would have been able to, with out of the corner of your eye you could see him. Black dress shirt hugging his body in a way that was so much more vulgar than any dance you could have come up with. 

A video was playing on your phone, two puppies rolling down a hill, yet your eyes drifted instantly to the side. Pretending to pay attention to the screen, you watched Henry trace the rim of his glass with his pointer finger. Your eyes traveled along his forearm and you could’ve sworn you actually felt your heart skip a bit when you noticed just how sloppily he rolled up his sleeves.

“I swear-” you sighed, eyes trained on the ceiling as you shook your head in disbelief, “You never looked hotter.”

“What was that, love?” Henry mumbled, bouncing one of his legs up for the sole purpose of messing with you.

“How much time passed?” you whined.

“A little bit over a minute, darling” he responded proudly.

You were fuming. “I’ll go get another drink, want something?”

As soon as he nodded no, you were out of there. Forcing your way through the sea of people, you eventually reached the bar, and even in the dried up smoke infused air of the room, you finally felt like you were able to breathe properly. With your competitive side on full display, as you waited for your drink to be ready, you gave yourself the epitome of a pep talk. With your arms crossed over the wooden surface of the bar, you soaked up the possibilities. At this point, you still weren’t sure whether you wished to prove to him that you’d be able to keep calm, or whether you wanted him to give in first.

The answer to this dilemma came in the form of a model looking 20 something year old man - the golden curls that framed his sculpted features and the seductive grin he decided to use as an introduction, were everything you needed. Dropping the nice girl act you didn’t even bother too much to adopt, you responded to the stranger with an overly sweet smile, and nonchalantly dragged him to the dance floor without exchanging as much as two words.

After finally settling face to face, you started dancing. Not keen on getting too close to him, but also knowing that was what you needed to get on Henry’s nerves, you decided to explain yourself, “Listen, I need to ask you something-” you yelled over the music, leaning against his chest to get as close to his ear as possible.

The man circled an arm around your waist, as he bowed his head with a smile on his lips, eager to listen to what you had to say.

“I know it didn’t seem like it, but I’m here with my boyfriend”

He instantly tensed up, but you continued. This time you pressed yourself against him, and lowered your voice, “You wouldn’t mind helping me get his attention, would you?”

He looked you up and down, “What are you offering?”

Knowing full well that Henry was probably already thinking about intervening, you decided there was no reason to hold back. “What’s on your mind?”

“Think he’d be into a threesome?”

The thought made you gag, but you played it nicely. “Depends on how convincing you are”

“He shared you before?”

As he asked this, you found it incredibly hard not to burst into laughter, as that was probably the last thing on earth Henry would ever do, but that was not what the man needed to hear.

“Yeah, but he’s usually reluctant when it comes to strangers, you know?”

How he didn’t figure out you were bluffing shall forever remain a mystery.

“Ok, ok” he nodded, licking his lips, “Let’s talk to him”

As you turned around to look in your boyfriend's direction, the man placed his right hand on the small of your back, ready to walk wherever you’d guide him. However, not even a step needed to be taken, as Henry was already marching towards you.

The crowd of dancing souls parted for him to pass. His eyes ablaze, he reached the two of you in no time. Henry didn’t waste no time paying attention to you, instead he went straight to the blonde haired guy standing beside you.

“Get your hands off of her, or I’ll break both your arms”

And the threat wouldn’t have been nowhere near as menacing if Henry wasn’t a head taller, and his shoulders twice as broad the man’s he approached.

“Listen dude-” the stranger tried to defend himself despite the pure terror that coated his features.

“Want me to break your teeth in too and don’t know how to fucking ask?”

“Jesus I just-”

“Beat it” Henry scoffed, grabbing the man’s shoulder to spin him around. He was probably ready to kick his ass too had the stranger not ran off, steam coming out of his heels. 

Instantly, Henry turned around to face you, the anger in his eyes making all the hairs on your body stand up. He didn't even bother to look at you, his stare trained somewhere in the distance, as he grabbed your arm.

"Henry, I-"

"You kind of lost your right to say anything, don't you think?" he groaned.

As soon as he finished his question, he looked down, his cold eyes finally meeting yours.

You opened your mouth to speak, but eventually decided against it. And he probably appreciated the fact that you didn't bitch any further, not that it would have made any difference at this point.

Without exchanging another word, Henry forcibly grabbed you by the arm, and dragged you from the dance floor. Despite finding it hard to keep up with his pace considering your attire wasn't made for rushing places, you again decided to keep your mouth shut.

You knew what was coming and there was no reason to ask any questions. It was what you planned all along, after all.

In a matter of seconds, you two reached the bathroom of the bar. Not even bothering to be civil about it, Henry kicked the door open with his foot, managing to catch the attention of everyone nearby.

You walked inside after him, didn't even get a chance to worry about the people already inside, as all that was needed to get them to hurry out of the room was the cold death stare Henry didn't bother to hide.

The girl that was reapplying her makeup in the mirror was the last to scatter out of the bathroom, and by the time she reached the door, Henry’s tie was already off and the first five buttons of his shirt undone.

Panting in anticipation, you found yourself leaning against the tiled wall, afraid to make the wrong move. When you were finally left alone, the sound of the bathroom door lock clicking was what forced your heart into overdrive.

“You proud of yourself?” Henry questioned, as he walked slowly in your direction, his tie stretched to the extreme in his hands.

“You’re the one who caved” you said and it was the last straw.

“Turn around” he commanded, nodding his head in the direction of the wall.

Despite not being anything less than riled up and aroused, you still hesitated.

What got you to move was the next step he took towards you. As if under a spell, you spun around on your heels, and prompted your hands against the smooth surface of the wall. However, Henry had other plans. In one swift but rough motion, he grabbed your wrists, pinning them up, against the vertical pipe that ran from the floor all the way up to the ceiling. Effortlessly, he bound your hands together, fastening them into place.

To no avail, you tried to bring them lower for better support, but the tie was so tightly wrapped that your blood barely had any place to pass.

“Can you-”

“Nope” Henry said, with a bit too much enthusiasm in his voice.

He lowered his head over your shoulder and spoke directly against your cheek, “Is it uncomfortable? Does it hurt your wrists?”

You nodded.

“Good” he concluded, along with an ardent slap against your ass.

The stinging sensation made you grit your teeth and suck in a deep breath. Just knowing this was only the beginning made your core burn with desire, and involuntarily, you pressed your thighs together, hoping that some pressure would alleviate the aching sensation that radiated all across your body.

With no remorse, Henry shoved his foot between your high heels, forcing your legs apart, “None of that, ok?”

“Fuck” you grunted, letting your forehead fall against the wall in front of you.

Completely out of your sight, Henry’s actions were unknown. However, the sound of his belt being unbuckled was crystal clear, as it echoed around the room. It was the only sound you were able to register. Not even your convulsive breathing had any importance.

Following this, the night reached a pace you found it really hard to keep up with. After Henry hiked up your black tight dress over your ass, your mind started blurring out every detail.

In a second, your lace underwear had pooled by your feet, and you were left completely exposed.

You didn’t have any time to feel your cheeks burn before the tip of his cock reached our entrance. He didn’t waste time probing you. After raking his nails across your scalp, Henry grabbed a fistful of your hair, and pulled hard. When your head fell back, he slammed his cock all the way inside of you.

A deep guttural moan rooted in absolute pleasure ripped your whole body in half. Your throat stung at the sensation that rushed to you. He was not far behind, his own pleasure - pure physical, consumed him.

Henry rolled his hips into yours with more aggression by the second, each time pulling his cock almost all the way out. With every passion infused slam of his body against yours, your whole frame rocked forwards, putting an immense strain on your shoulders.

Sinful, choked back moans burned your throat.

“Is this what you wanted, hm?” Henry taunted, his calloused fingers forcing your chin up. “To be fucked like a slut in a random bathroom?”

You just squeezed your eyes shut and sucked on your bottom lip, hoping it would be good enough of an answer.

“Didn’t hear that” he shook his head, forcing his cock balls deep inside your pussy, “Use your words, pet”

You swallowed thickly, digging your nails into your probably already bloody palms, “Yes”

“Yes, what?” Henry let your chin go for just a second, before returning with a wanton smack against your cheek, “Yes what, baby?”

“Yes…” you wailed, chest aching with every word, “I wanted you to fuck me”

Visibly unsatisfied with your answer, Henry let go of you, moving his hands to lay on your hips. His grip was steady and merciless, guiding your body for his own pleasure now.

“You think good girls get fucked like this?” he rasped, his voice breaking halfway through the sentence. No matter what he said or how he said it, he was just as weak for you as you were for him, and it showed.

“You had to act like a whore the whole evening, didn’t you” Henry chuckled in disbelief. “Might as well take my cock like one now, right?”

As he spoke, numerous smacks, varying in intensity consumed the sensitive skin of your ass, which was doomed to be left bruised and battered.

“Yes” you cried, “Yes…”

“You know daddy always gives you what you ask for” he said, “Especially when that means I get to use you like the set of holes that you are”

“Fuck, fuck… Henry-” you cried, arching your back and forcing your hips back against him. 

“Use that cunt to suck the cum out of my cock”

“Fucking god” you shook your head, the ecstasy of the moment overwhelming all your senses. The frustration of not being able to rub your clit and alleviate the pain translated into a plethora of moans and screams. “Please, please- I’m close, I’m-”

“No, baby girl” Henry commanded, sinking his fingers into your hips, “I cum first, hold it”

“I can’t fucking hold it!” you yelled, covering your face into your shoulder.

“Try harder, angel”

“Fuck”

Multiple layers of unshed tears coated your eyes as you struggled to keep your body under control, but your knees were already shaking. Palms wet and trembling legs - you were already too far gone.

“I can’t-” you shook your head in desperation, “I’m gonna cum”

“Think twice, darling” Henry taunted, delivering one last blow to your ass, that along with the merciless pounding he kept up, managed to send you over the edge.

Your mind turned to blur as you fell spiraling into an earth shattering orgasm, your body spasming uncontrollably. Your muscles had a mind of their own, as you enjoyed the feeling of his cock spreading your pussy open until it completely consumed you.

“Henry, please, I-” you cried, panting desperately as not even standing up seemed like an easy task for you.

With your body turned to jelly into his arms, you somehow managed to find still find pleasure in the way he kept fucking your overly sensitive pussy.

“Never fucking listen do you-” Henry called with audible disappointment in his tone.

His question was cut short by a grave groan that forced its way out of his throat. His thrusts became sloppy and irregulated, deep and forced by the orgasm that soon ended up consuming his self control.

He kept going, allowing your cunt to milk every last drop of cum, not stopping until he didn’t have the power to move anymore. His body collapsed against yours, trapping you between his massive frame and the cold bathroom wall.

In a haze, he pulled out and undid the knot that had your wrists bound together. Weak in your knees, you stumbled to the sink, leaning against the marble garniture as your breathing was just now starting to return to normal.

With his pants pulled up but still undone, Henry came up behind you, engulfing you in a loving hug.

“I’m sorry” you whispered.

“Why?” he asked, slightly concerned.

“I came when you told me not to-”

“Oh god” Henry laughed out loud, before lowering himself to kiss your neck, “You didn’t listen to a word I said the whole night, and that’s what stuck with you?”

You couldn’t help but smile, “You still love me though”

“I fucking adore you, angel” Henry shook his head, “Next time just maybe don’t make me traumatize some poor guy”

Continuing with the small talk, you two got dressed, and prepared to get out of the bathroom.

“You know he wanted a threesome?” you said as you fixed your hair and makeup in the mirror.

“Ha!” Henry laughed, before his face turning dead serious, “Never”

[mercy-burning]

Say You’ll Remember Me (Songbird Chapter 1)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader Summary: After performing at open mic night at a bar downtown, Reader meets someone that could change everything for her. Rating: 18+ Warnings: Smut (oral sex - male and female receiving, fingering, male masturbation, cockwarming, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, creampie), Language Word Count: 7.1k

SERIES MASTERLIST SERIES PLAYLIST (new songs added with the release of each chapter)

***

Love never came easy to me. Truth be told, a lot of things never came easy to me, and I was okay with that, but love was probably the one thing I wish I could just let myself feel with no problem.

For as long as I could remember, I've wanted to be in love with someone as much as I'd seen my parents love each other. My older sister got a boyfriend when she was 17 and I was 11, and they've been together ever since. They're married with two children now, and just as in love now as they'd been when they met.

I've never seen anyone love the way I've seen my family love, but for some reason I was never able to give as much as them. I mean, I felt love obviously, but it was never that all-consuming, life-changing love that was supposed to make your head spin and your soul ache.

Maybe I just never found the right person, but every relationship I've ever been in ended because of my inability to give out as much love as I was given. And that's not to say that I didn't care about the people I've dated, they were all really great people in fact... But I could never fully be in it, you know? Some people give their all to another person, would do anything and everything for them if it meant they got to spend the rest of their lives together, but I never felt that. Sure, I could have settled in any of my relationships, but if I was going to actually spend my time building a life with another person, I was going to really feel like I needed it to survive. Or, like I deserved it, if I was going to go that far.

For the past few years I've pretty much given up on relationships. I've been on a few dates, had a few hookups here and there, but at this point I was almost certain that love wouldn't find me any time soon.

However, the one thing that filled that love-shaped void in my soul was music. Words, melodies, stories... It all made me feel the way I was convinced love was supposed to make you feel. Even if I never wrote songs about my (positive) experiences with love, I loved love songs, and most music in general. That was the one thing I was sure of. Music was the one and only love I knew I could count on. It kept me safe, it ensured that I wasn't alone, and it hugged me in a way where I've never felt more at home.

Which would explain why I was here on a Friday night, singing in front of an entire crowded bar. Performing and sharing my music with people was the best way I knew how to outwardly show... well, anything about myself, really. I didn't go to open mic nights often, but when I did it felt better than anything in the world.

Tonight was... different, though. Not in a bad way, of course, but there was something in the air that made me feel like something great was going to happen.

It was the same feeling I got whenever I knew I was about to get laid.

Now, say what you want about it, about me, but even if I sucked at finding love I sure knew how to have one-night stands. I loved sex. It was another way I was able to get that happy rush of feelings while being with another person without actually having to be in love with them. Truly, sex was the perfect outlet for me, and my music was a great tool that helped me get it. Not that I needed help—if I wanted sex bad enough I could easily look for it—but the fact that I could play several instruments and sing well definitely made things easier.

And tonight I wanted it bad.

I hadn't realized it until I tried to figure out what song to sing for open mic night, and in turn came to the conclusion that I hadn't had sex with another human being in about a month. Which wasn't a bad thing by any means, but it didn't change the fact that I wanted someone else to help me out in chasing that high this time.

So I opted to go with a cover of a song I knew would do the job no matter what. I brought my electric guitar with me and mirrored the Wildest Dreams performance that Taylor Swift did from the GRAMMY Museum. The song itself was sexy and sweet, but with the electric guitar and the electric guitar only, it made for less sweet and more sexy. I'd always loved that performance from the second I saw it, so as soon as I was able, I bought an electric guitar and taught myself to play it. It was a hit every time I performed it.

I was wearing a maroon, long sleeved turtle-neck crop top that exposed my belly-button ring (which was sparkling silver and caught the light in the bar beautifully, if I were to say so myself), a pair of tight jeans, and black glittery heels that I only ever pulled out when I was feeling brave. My hair was half-up and half-down, leaving a good amount of my face exposed which donned silver eyeliner, sheer lip gloss, and my eyebrow ring. Paired all together with my black and white guitar and shiny nail polish that matched the deep maroon of my shirt, I felt hot as hell. Better than I'd felt in a while if I was being honest.

It felt even better when I was performing. I was confident in my abilities as a musician, to which I considered myself fortunate. If only I could have been that confident in other departments, I feel like I would have been dead-set for life.

But tonight I didn't want to think about that.

I played the song just as well as I had every other time. Probably even better, if only for the fact that I was working to get myself a lay. But whatever the scenario, I was feeling good and that's all I'd ever wanted to accomplish.

I saw him immediately after I sang the last note and the final chord of my guitar faded out into the applause.

He's just... where my eyes decided to wander, I guess. I don't know exactly what it was, but I was thankful for it, even though I almost forgot to breathe with the way he looked back at me. I couldn't tell what color his eyes were because of how far away he was, but I'd have bet on my life that they were some shade of brown. He bit his lip rather nervously when he noticed me staring at him, unable to tear my eyes way, but nevertheless he kept his gaze trained on me. It was so strong I could have sworn they burned holes into my soul.

Or, more likely, my libido.

Either way, I knew it then, when I packed up my guitar and walked through the crowd to find him, that I wasn't going home alone for the first night in weeks.

That was a good feeling.

So good, in fact, that I allowed myself to be a little more vulnerable than normal. It wasn't anything huge, but it also wasn't like me at all.

While generally, guys are more notorious to be the ones kicking out the women after a one-night stand, I always found it the opposite. I hated waking up in the morning and having to kick some dude out of my apartment. They always put up some sort of fight when it came time to leave, and I didn't get why. All the women I've hooked up with were easier to communicate with on that front, so I didn't mind as much, but still made it a point to be the one coming and going no matter who I slept with.

There was something different about this guy, though. Again, my sex drive was probably getting the better of me, so it maybe wasn't the best idea to let him come to my apartment, but I truly believe that a part of me wanted this man to see where I lived. I... don't know what it was, or why it happened, but it felt exciting. It felt new. It sparked some newfound adventure in me that I didn't really know I craved until I had it.

That being said, I could almost tell immediately within minutes of talking to him that he was going to be a hard one to get to leave. But the thing is...

I didn't mind that.

Something deep inside me wanted to feel what it was like to wrap this man around my finger, to have him so invested in me that he didn't want to leave me, and it was a weird feeling. I didn't know what to do with it, exactly, other than test the waters and see what was going to come of it.

He was about to tell me his name. That's when I started to realize it was a bad idea, and I was already in a vulnerable position. So I held my hand out to his face, pressing my pointer finger to his lips and seductively licking my own.

"No names. Is that okay?"

Something in those brown eyes (I was right) practically begged me to let him say his name, and a part of me wanted to know what it was just so I could scream it. But I knew that if I knew his name, I was ultimately going to be in trouble.

Like I said, there was something different about him. I didn't know what it was, and I didn't want to know because if I did, then I was going to be even deeper in uncharted territory. Besides, if anything the mystery of having no names would make this even sexier. Right?

Reluctantly he nodded, and I slid my finger down his lips and under his chin, then over his throat. I saw the goosebumps form on his skin as I went lower, lightly over the navy blue sweater he was wearing and stopping at his lower stomach. I grabbed one of his belt loops and pulled him close to me, smiling softly as his eyes never stopped searching mine.

"You ready to show me a good time, Pretty Boy?"

He exhaled at the nickname , but I couldn't tell if it was from nerves or what... Either way, he said, "Yes," and I twisted his belt loop tighter with a wink.

***

She was the most captivating woman I think I'd ever seen.

She commanded every room she was in, made everyone pay attention to her, and even if she couldn't sing or play the guitar the effect would have been the same. Granted, I only ever saw her in the bar. So, technically only one room.

But it was about to be two.

I didn't even want to be in the bar, and I was going to leave since Derek, Emily, and Penelope ditched me for their own endeavors, but at the very last second a voice in the speakers cut through the radio-generated music announced that someone would be performing, officially kicking off open mic night.

It wasn't that that stopped me. But it was her name.

Y/N.

I had to wonder if, when she said, 'No names," she remembered or even knew that I'd already known it. Or maybe she just didn't want to know my name. Whatever that meant, it didn't deter me in any way from trying to take up any space or time that she had. After she locked eyes with me on stage, I sent out so many signals, hoping to whatever higher power was up there, if any, that she would come to me. I just... needed to know her. To see her up close.

Truthfully I don't know what made me think I had the right amount of confidence or skill to do anything other than babble incoherently or just stare in her presence, but thankfully she didn't have much of a knack for talking.

When she finally stood in front of me, I didn't know where to look. I knew ultimately that I should look at her face, but damn it if I couldn't help but look at all of her, my stomach naturally doing flips when I caught sight of her belly-button ring, and... Her hands... Good God, I couldn't stop staring at her hands. I realized once she was closer that that's mainly what I looked at while she was on stage. The way her fingers worked the guitar, making it look like it was the easiest thing in the world, it was enough to send me into a tailspin.

Truthfully I don't think there was one single flaw about her. Naturally all human beings have flaws, but as far as I could tell, from this first meeting, this woman was nothing but an angel sent from Heaven, specifically to destroy me.

My favorite part about her, though, was by far her voice. I didn't listen to much mainstream music, but if it sounded anything like that, then I wanted to hear all of it.

Forget angel... She was a siren.

Yeah. That was the perfect way to describe her.

And when she touched me...

I'm pretty sure I blacked out.

I say pretty sure, because I distinctly remember telling her, "Yes," when she'd asked me indirectly to leave with her, but everything else only came in one-second flashes. A moment where I was in her car, and more clearly a moment when she pulled me out of it and shoved me against the door after she closed it, running her glorious hands through my hair and attacking my neck with harsh, sloppy, butterfly-inducing kisses.

But I made myself remember when we were actually in the apartment, because there was no way I was going to let myself forget that moment.

So I was completely well-aware of everything around me when she unlocked the door, pulled me inside, and shoved me against another door for a second time that night. This time she kissed my lips, and I all but melted into her. Her tongue didn't waste any time slipping into my mouth, but I didn't waste any time trying to fight it. I would have given her anything she wanted, she didn't even have to ask for it.

That being said, she broke away from me, looked me dead in the eye, and asked, "Can I take your pants off?"

I nodded eagerly, choking out a breathy, "God, yes," as best as I could.

That seemed to be what she was looking for, because she all but groaned as she squatted on the floor and worked at my belt. I didn't know what to do with myself, my hands seeming to wander aimlessly before settling behind me on the door. Once she got my pants down, she looked up at me through those silver-painted eyelids and leaned forward, pressing a hot, wet kiss to my dick through my underwear.

Any other time in this sort of situation, I most likely would have felt embarrassed by whimpering the way I did, but seeing the primal lust widen her eyes as I did it completely erased any doubt I ever had. By the time she pulled my boxers down and licked a large, slow line up the underside of my dick, those doubts were completely wiped off the board, no evidence of them ever having been there.

I wanted to look at her more than anything, to memorize the way she looked wrapped around me, but my eyes wouldn't stay open. Everything I was feeling, every sensation that ran through my veins, every hot lick of her tongue as it swirled around my tip, every small stroke of her hand when she took a break to whisper filthy things to me... It all rendered me completely unable to think straight.

At one point I was almost at the breaking point, and she knew it, too, because she pulled away from me completely and stood straight, running one of her hands along the inside of my thigh as she went up. I opened my eyes to meet her, her mouth slick with a smear of her lip gloss and her saliva. She looked like she was on the brink of tears, but none of them had fallen. But the gleam in her eye, that's what stood out to me. She was so utterly consumed with burning desire that I would have done anything to satiate every need she had.

She waited a beat, studying my face and the way my lips were no doubt still smeared with her lip gloss. And then she grabbed one of my hands and brought it to cup her crotch, tilting her head to the side and practically sighing at the touch.

"Aren't you going to return the favor, Pretty Boy?"

My first instinct was to tell her I needed a second to breathe. But somehow I knew I wouldn't be breathing well regardless of what happened. I stumbled out of my shoes and pants as quickly as I could, using my hand to lightly rub along the seam of her jeans. As soon as I was free of constraints, I made a point to turn us around so she was the one with her back against the door. I helped her pull her pants off, and once they were, along with her heels, I draped one of her legs around my shoulder so the process would be easier for the both of us.

I've only ever gone down on a woman a few times, so it was safe to say I was a little nervous that I wouldn't be able to satisfy her. But even if I hadn't had much practice, I knew I was a good listener. I practically read people for a living, and I knew how to read behavior and body language. So I knew that that would be my strong suit here.

That being said, I did have some idea of where to start. So I looked up at her while I brought my tongue out to her panties, lightly dragging the tip of it along the seam that met the corner of  her thigh. On my way to the other side I pressed the lightest of kisses to where her clit would be through the fabric, and then repeated the process a few times, feeling her squirm beneath me. Once I could tell she was getting close to frustrated, I made it a point to drag my tongue upwards in a long swipe until I reached her clit. I kissed it again before using one of my fingers to come up and slide under the fabric, though not pushing it entirely aside.

She sighed out as my finger ran along the very tops of her lips. When I pushed it in just the slightest, gathering her wetness as my tongue still gently worked at her clit through her panties, I took the moment to look up at her.

If she wasn't already the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen, and in that moment she was even more perfect, her lip bit and her eyes on the verge of fluttering closed, I could only imagine what she would look like when I was inside of her.

I almost collapsed thinking about it, but went back to my task quickly, knowing that if I stopped thinking for once in my life then I wouldn't have to imagine it, and I could experience it instead.

So I finally pulled her panties aside and used the tip of my tongue again to taste her, just as lightly as I'd done it before. Only rather than fabric I was met with the smooth, slick taste of her pussy. I think I could actually hear her tremble under me as I flicked my tongue over her clit a few times, though everything I was feeling in that moment was so strong that it was more likely that I was losing every ability to think straight.

As time progressed I deepened my every movement, bringing my tongue deeper and harder through her gradually until the point where I was practically eating her out like a man starved. You could argue that I was starved for her in every sense of the word, but that moment wasn't about me. I was focused solely on making her feel good, paying attention to how tightly she gripped my hair when I briefly sucked on her clit, or the way she bucked her hips forward whenever I pushed my tongue inside of her as far as I could will it.

She seemed to like it best, though, when my fingers pumped slowly in and out of her in tandem with each swirl of my tongue around her clit. I took my time, savoring every second I could as my eyes stayed shut. I could barely keep them open.

When I finally did look up her, that seemed to finally be the thing that pushed her over the edge. Well, started to, anyway.

"Wait," she breathed, and for a second I thought maybe I'd done something wrong. I pulled away from her and raised an eyebrow, and all she did was look down at me, her eyes just as lust blown as they'd been before, if not even more. "I want you to edge me, can you do that? Just... keep bringing me there, but don't give me what I want. Not until I tell you to."

"Anything," I told her truthfully, keeping my eyes locked with hers as I brought my tongue to her once more. She shuddered under my touch as I worked at her clit again, quickly flicking over it as my fingers came up to hold her hips. It wasn't long before I brought her to the edge for the second time that night, and this time when I pulled away, I leaned my head into her thigh, pressing soft kisses to the inside. She was so focused on watching my face that she must not have noticed my fingers coming to slide into her again. She fluttered her eyes closed and leaned her head against the door with a soft thud as I fingered her, quickly picking up the pace as my tongue came out to lick at her thigh before I bit into it softly.

"Fuck, you're so fucking good with your hands," she managed to say through a moan.

I laughed a little, glancing over at her hands briefly and just letting the words fly from my mouth. "You're one to talk. The way you played that guitar? The way you touch me? Good God..."

She hummed hungrily, opening her eyes and pulling me up by my hair to pull me away from her. Her leg dropped from my shoulder and I stood up to meet her, towering over her by a good four to five inches.

For a moment we just stood there and stared at each other, both pants-less and desperate for each other but unwilling to do anything about it.

Until she pulled at my hair, craning my head to the side so she had access to my neck before running one of her hands down the side of my face, neck, and finding purchase gripping my shoulder. Her nails lightly scratched at my skin, sending a mess of goosebumps down my whole body, right before she took the other one and grabbed my bare ass.

"Baby, I've barely even touched you, yet."

I don't know what it was that made me so bold, but I smirked as both of her hands squeezed, causing her fingernails to leave indents into the skin on my right shoulder and my left ass cheek. "Touch me, then."

She was more than happy to oblige. Within seconds, both of her hands were slipping up my sweater and roaming my back and stomach as she leaned up and kissed me again. I met her lips happily, allowing her all the access she wanted to my tongue. At this point I was growing restless, wanting more than anything in the world to have her push me onto the bed, or the couch, or even the floor, and do to me whatever she saw fit.

My desperation must have broke the surface somehow, manifested in a way I hadn't noticed, because she laughed against my mouth, pushing me away and ripping off her shirt in one fluid motion. Which left her in only a grey bra that matched her panties.

"Take off your shirt," she said.

I didn't hesitate, doing as I was told and tossing it on the floor with our other clothes.

"Go sit on the couch."

I went there as quickly as I could, only feeling slightly embarrassed being the only one completely naked. But almost as soon as I sat down on her couch—truthfully one of the most comfortable ones I'd ever been on—she'd come up behind me and started massaging my scalp. I closed my eyes at the way it almost lolled me to sleep. If she did that any longer, I'm sure I would have.

Eventually, though, she slid her fingers down my neck and over my shoulders, resting them finally on my bare chest and drawing circles. She brought her lips down to my right ear and grazed it with her teeth before whispering, "Touch yourself for me? Go slow."

I didn't have to be told twice. As I'd quickly learned, I was pretty sure this woman could have done anything she wanted to me and I wouldn't have rejected her.

My hand firmly gripped my dick and went slow, just like she'd asked. With every long, meaningful stroke, she mirrored it with a swipe of her tongue along my neck. Her hands remained at my chest, reaching down to circle my nipples in very light, goosebump-inducing motions.

"Faster," she told me, and I listened. Each stroke of my hand was met with even faster, sloppier kisses along my neck and jawline, and I could have sworn I felt her fingernails digging themselves harshly into my chest.

"Faster."

By this point I was occasionally bucking my hips forward to meet my hand, and Y/N laughed lowly against my jaw, mumbling against it. "You wanna cum, Pretty Boy?"

"Not... Not yet," I stuttered truthfully.

"Aww," she cooed, tilting my head to the side and giving me a kiss on the mouth. It was probably the sweetest kiss we shared that night. "You want to cum inside me, don't you?"

She kissed me again immediately after she said it, and I moaned into her mouth, my hand working faster. If she didn't stop me, I was going to be done for, and I knew I wouldn't be able to go again. Not for a few hours at least. And I didn't know how long she'd want me to stay, or what we would even do while we waited.

Thankfully she seemed to take some semblance of pity on me, because she brought her hands away from my body, pulling back completely and telling me to stop.

I removed my hand and practically sighed in relief. I waited for further instruction, a sound, a touch, anything... But I almost had the wind knocked out of me when she appeared in front of me, having taken off her bra and underwear. What I found shouldn't have surprised me, but somehow it did. This woman was just full of surprises.

She had nipple piercings that matched the silver color of her eyebrow ring, not sparkly like the belly-button ring, but it was the cherry on top to what I'd already found practically perfect in every way.

As she sauntered to me, I couldn't decide where to look. Much like before. So I started from the bottom and worked my way up, eventually meeting her eyes when she straddled me on the couch and took my face in her hands.

"You clean?"

"Yes," I stated clearly, not wanting any signals to get crossed. I even nodded to accentuate my point.

"Good. Me, too. And I happen to be on birth control, so..." She leaned into my ear again and ground her hips into mine, the hot wetness of her pussy slightly grazing my dick. I almost fainted right there. "You can cum inside me all you want..."

She bit down on my shoulder then, and I groaned, bringing my hands to rest at her hips.

Then she pulled back and looked me in the eye again, grabbing my dick and lifting her hips to hover above it. She sunk down completely and quickly, letting me adjust to the feeling for all of two seconds before she gripped my chin in her right hand and smiled, batting her eyelashes. "But only when I tell you. You can't cum without my permission, got it?"

I breathed out a weak, "Yes," and then she got up and sank right back down, setting a quick and steady pace right away.

Both of her hands gripped my shoulders while mine stayed planted firmly around her waist, and if they were too tight she didn't say. In fact, by the look on her face I judged she probably enjoyed how tightly I was gripping her. So I decided to test it out. And sure enough, every time I let up my grip on her waist she would clench around me and move a little faster, making my grip tighten, and then she hummed, digging her nails into my shoulders.

Every high moan and whimper she let out as she rode me was just as melodic and beautiful as her voice when she sang. Added to the way she moved and the way she worked her hands, she was a rhythm all her own, constantly creating some sort of song, some piece of art that begged to be heard, to be felt in the deepest part of any soul that would embrace it...

I wanted it to last forever. I wanted to drown in her song forever.

Maybe that was a little dramatic. I mean, I only just met this woman under two hours ago at least (I wasn't sure how much time had passed truthfully), didn't know a single thing about her other than her first name, her musical ability, and her body. And all she knew about me was... well, my body.

Regardless, I was determined to make this last as long as I could, so I let go of her hips and brought my fingers to comb lightly through her hair, bringing her head up from the crook of my neck to meet mine, our foreheads touched together.

As if she knew what I was thinking, she slowed her hips, and then pressed her lips to mine gently. I'm pretty sure I felt my heart melt.

"What's wrong? Not gonna last much longer?"

I couldn't tell if it was a taunt or a genuine question. Either way, I shook my head and cradled her face. "I don't think so... But I want this to last."

"Hmm," she contemplated, but not for long, because seconds later she stopped moving her hips altogether and stayed sitting on my dick. She leaned back a little, bringing her hands to rest on her thighs as she took me in. "Well, then I guess I'll have to get creative."

I genuinely had no clue what she was about to do, but when she moved one of her hands to her breast and pinched at her nipple, I didn't care one way or the other. I was curious, sure, but ultimately I knew I would welcome whatever she did.

"I noticed you've been eyeing my piercings all night," she said sweetly, continuing to play with her nipples. She bit her lip softly before grinding down onto me and making me suck in a breath. "But I have to say, these two are my favorites... Aren't they pretty?"

"Fuck, they're beautiful," I breathed, splaying my hands over her stomach. "You're beautiful..."

"Aww,” she drawled. “Thanks."

Then she promptly removed her hands from herself, grabbed my wrists, and brought them to her breasts. My hands instinctively squeezed, feeling the contrast of soft skin and cold metal in my palms. I licked my lips before flicking my eyes up to meet hers. "Can I?"

"You can do whatever you want, baby," she purred, grinding her hips once more. A groan ripped from my throat before I leaned forward and brought her right nipple into my mouth, immediately swirling my tongue around the metal of her piercing. I think she might have groaned also, but I was so caught up in the way she grinded onto me and the feel of her skin on my tongue that I couldn't tell you for sure.

I kissed across her chest until I reached her other nipple, and gave it the same careful attention. Meanwhile I suddenly felt her hand slip down between our bodies so she could touch her clit. I brought my head up and peppered kisses up her neck.

"Let me help," I whispered against her skin, bringing one of my hands to replace hers.

She grabbed my wrist before I could get there. "No, keep doing what you're doing. Please..."

And that was that. I moved my mouth back down her neck, down the slope of her breast, and went back to flicking and swirling my tongue over her nipples. Eventually I took one and just slightly tugged at it with my teeth, causing her to buck her hips forward and send a shockwave of energy through me. At that point I was pretty sure I was almost feral with need, not caring how long it took anymore.

So right after she brought herself to orgasm, the movements on her clit slowing to a stop, I shifted our weight and pinned her to the couch so that her back was arched off the armrest. With an amused laugh, she wrapped her legs around my waist as I held one of my hands to the back of her head, the other on her waist, and pushed into her with one, long, fluid thrust forward.

I didn't waste any time with adjustments. I didn't care that my knee was only slightly hurting at the angle it was placed in. The only thing I cared about right then was fucking this woman so good she'd have to remember me. Which wasn't like me at all, but I didn't care.

So that's what I did. My hips set a ruthless, quick pace that had her sliding back until she was almost off the couch, the only thing keeping her anchored being my arm cradling her neck and head and her legs wrapping around my waist. Her heels dug brutally into my lower back, and if I had to guess, they were probably going to leave bruises. Not to mention her hands were clawing desperately at my shoulders to hold on, grabbing any skin she could as I pounded her into the arm of the couch.

I tried to keep my head up, but I was falling into oblivion. And I think she knew it, too, because she used her hands to keep me upwards, even doing so much as looking down between our bodies as best as she could to see me drilling my hips forward. The sight seemed to send her into a tailspin, because she bit her lip and groaned out.

"Fuuuuck, baby, just like that, don't stop, don't stopdon'tstopdon'tst—"

She came hard and fast, trying her best to keep her eyes open, right before looking up at my face. She clenched around me, and I knew I was done for. Any second now and I would finish. Just before it happened, she slid her hands up my neck, brushed the hair from my face, and brought me down to kiss her.

I moaned in her mouth as I came, keeping my hips pressed flush to hers and holding myself deep inside her. She moaned right back, swiping her tongue against mine as she squeezed her whole body around me and pulled me impossibly closer to her. In that moment, I didn't feel like it was just an orgasm... Which might sound cheesy and kind of stupid in retrospect, but it really felt that way. Right then, with her whole body holding mine and daring itself not to let go, it felt like every sense I had was stripped away and all that was left of me was her. As good as it felt to cum, it felt even better just being wrapped up in her in every capacity.

And that was why—even after we were finished and exhausted—we stayed just like that, wrapped up together on the couch with our lips moving lazily together until I felt myself start to drift off.

At that point, she'd somehow managed to pull me off of her and lean me back into the position I'd been in before, and my eyes struggled to stay open.

"I'm gonna go clean up," I thought I heard her say, and I wondered how she had the energy and stamina to stand up and walk around. But then again, I was so exhausted that I wasn't sure if anything that happened after we came down from our highs was even a coherent experience.

That being said, I managed to mutter an "Okay," while she disappeared and I tried to catch my breath. It only took about a minute before I realized that I was alone, and that she'd left to clean up the mess that I made. That seemed to snap me out of it, though not by much; I was still a little light-headed when I got up from the couch and started to collect my clothes from the floor.

I almost had my pants all the way on when I heard her voice from behind me.

"You don't have to leave... if you don't want."

I turned to face her, noticing that she was wearing a large nightshirt and probably nothing else. Even after she'd just gotten obliterated on the couch she still managed to look like the most angelic thing I'd ever seen. Or maybe I hadn't actually done as well as I thought, and she was the one who'd obliterated me... Either way, I felt bad for staying, especially knowing that she didn't even want to know my name.

So I shrugged, stifling a yawn. "No, it's fine, I... I should go. I don't want to intrude or anything, I—"

"Oh, please," she scoffed, walking up to me and placing a soft hand on my forearm. "As far as intrusion goes, I think we're way past apologies, don't you think?"

I smiled at that, admittedly leaning into her touch as her hand drifted up and to my cheek. "Okay. But only if you let me sleep on the couch."

"Don't be silly. You just fucked me on said couch, it's okay if you sleep in my bed with me."

I only shook my head, placing my hand on top of hers. "You didn't even want to know my name, which tells me that you probably aren't the type of woman to let men sleep in your bed with you after sex. Which is fine, don't get me wrong, but... I don't want to make you uncomfortable. And, I... I feel bad enough, I didn't help you clean up, I should have—"

"I'm gonna stop you right there," she said, removing her hand from my cheek and placing it on my bare chest instead. "That right there is why I don't mind if you sleep in my bed. Plus, it's late, you don't have a ride, and I can tell you're sleepy because you've been nodding off as we've been standing here. You can barely stand straight."

I didn't know what to say. Probably because she was right and I was nodding off right now.

She spoke again. "At least stay and rest for a few hours before you leave. And if it'll convince you to stay... You can have the couch."

I smiled lazily, leaning forward to kiss her on the cheek. "I'll be gone before you wake up."

"Well... In that case, can... Can I kiss you one more time?"

"You can do anything you want to me," I told her truthfully, and not even a second passed before she pressed her lips to mine.

Despite everything we'd just done and the fact that I was almost asleep, it was the hottest kiss we shared that night. I was sure of it. It was lazy and wet, and so filled with the aftermath of all that we'd experienced together that I almost fell to my knees, and not because I was tired. Her tongue grazed mine in the most purposeful way I'd ever felt in a kiss my entire life. The way she held me to her, her hands weaved in my hair and mine pressed firmly to the small of her back, had me tingling from head to toe.

To this day, it's still the best kiss I've ever had.

I swore to myself I would never forget that kiss, and I never have. I couldn't have, even if I tried.

When she pulled away, I almost chased her, but I let her go, opening my eyes to stare deeply into hers. She didn't move for the longest time before clearing her throat and taking a small step back.

"Goodnight," she whispered softly. She looked almost as dazed as I felt.

"Goodnight," I whispered back as she turned around and padded into the darkness.

***

As I stood at her kitchen counter four hours later, a pen in hand and hovering over the back of a receipt she'd had crumpled on it, I tried to think of what to write, even though I knew it probably didn't matter to her one way or another if I said anything at all...

At the very least I wanted her to know just how much that night meant to me, even if she didn't feel the same way. Even if she didn't want to remember my name, I needed her to at least remember my face, remember what we did... Remember me...

I recalled the song she sang. And then I wrote it down.

I had the best night, thank you. Say you'll remember me... —S.

***

"Nothing lasts forever But this is gonna take me down."

—Taylor Swift, Wildest Dreams

***

TAGLIST:

@bluesunrise02 @meowiemari @teenwolfgirl90

[eureka-its-zico]

Half Bitten Part 4

Prologue  Part 1   Part 2   Part 3

A/N: So no one really asked for a continuation of this. I just work on stuff when I’m stuck on other things and I love supernatural stuff. My only hope is that someone out there enjoys this just a little. As always, thank you for reading. Much Love, Jenn

Jimin X Reader (for now?)

Words: 8620

Genre: Vampire supernatural goodness

Warnings: some slight gore

The surge of fear that rushed through you left a sickeningly sweet taste of copper on your tongue. For that brief moment, as your eyes focused in and out on his figure, you wondered if maybe you’d bitten your tongue. A mixture of shock from the wound on your leg and the frigid air making your teeth begin to clatter unapologetically from the cold. That wasn’t even mentioning the blood loss from your wounded leg was starting to show itself: your eyes running over him in doubles when you knew damn well there was only one of him. The spyglass vision made it increasingly harder to focus, and the more you did focus on him the more you felt the absurdity at noting how attractive he was. 

From Jimin to Namjoon and now this guy, they all held on to that otherworldly energy. It demanded to be admired and touched: a dangerous game to hypnotize right before they stroked. A small part of you wondered if there was a convention? A secret meeting place to find the most attractive people on the planet and turn them into vampires. 

It was the worst, most ridiculous, time for your thoughts to shift to the absurdity of looks but it also felt equally absurd that you were running for your life. From vampires. You knew the fear that quickened your blood should’ve been enough to send your feet packing in the other direction. Yet, there you were woozy from blood loss and your limbs on fire from adrenaline. 

You were vaguely aware that your new dangerous stranger was edging his way towards you. Blood soaked eyes smiling to the soft hum of a song he’d originally hummed but was now breathing into the space between you. It was hauntingly beautiful and serene. The words took ages to reach you, but when they did your heart thundered wildly. A scared rabbit caught in the view of a viper. 

“Your scent is so pure. It tastes so rich. You’ll try to hide.  you’ll never get far. I love the chase. I’ll find you wherever you are.”

The words danced sickeningly sweet inside your head. The angelic sound of his voice almost enough to make you overlook the words. But your brain knew something wasn’t right, and it sent you turning on your heels and attempting to sprint away from him. 

You’d felt like a fool. You’d been so starry-eyed as you watched him he’d already begun to pace towards you. A delicate shift of his feet that practically left him dancing and a few feet closer to you than before. 

Your late response to turn tail and run; digging in and shifting you forward, hopefully, as far away from him as your injured legs could carry, felt too late. The sensation was so overwhelmingly it took everything in you not to scream. To yell into the void of the night for a help that would never come. The anxiety of not knowing when his attack would come ripped your stomach apart and your heart nesting snuggly in your throat. 

With every pounding of your feet into the asphalt the nerves in your injured leg sent electrical jolts of pain throughout your body. A screaming reminder that you were wounded prey, and the agony you felt now wouldn’t compare to the future he had in store.

You held on to a dim hope you’d had a chance of getting away, but with the first brush of a body moving past you, faster than your brain could register, you knew that hope was non-existent. You barely had time to register the second gust of movement, now to your right, and you weren’t able to stop the soft yelp that crawled free from your throat. 

His windchime-like laughter resonated around you as if he was impossibly close. Behind you. Beside you. All around you. The playful sound erupted and consumed you until it was the only sound you could hear. 

He kept toying with you, herding you, whichever way he saw fit. The progress you thought you were making to safety dissolved quickly at the realization he had you moving in circles. Your mind was now blaring warnings wrapped up in frantic thoughts that left you dizzy with panic.

He wasn’t safe. He wasn’t Jimin who was there to care for you. He was obviously one of Namjoon’s people. This mystery man who tormented you. 

RUN!

Your brain kept scrambling the words around. The flight of nerves urging you to keep moving not caring that you were attempting just that. The neon of the Chinese food restaurant that’s been on your right now seemed on your left. Had he completely made you do a one-eighty? 

There it was again - that clamoring of panic in your chest. It definitely wasn’t helpful, and it sure as hell wasn’t going to help save you. Just another thing to add to your growing shit show of a day. It didn’t matter if you were going to be able to get away. Realistically, you knew the chances of that happening were narrowing down slim to none. It didn’t stop your legs from tearing to your left back down the street, legs pumping, and started saying a prayer that you’d magically turn into The Flash. If vampires and witches were suddenly real it didn’t seem like too much of a stretch to become a superhero. 

Gosh, how you’d seemed to find a street with literally no one on it seemed horrifically convenient. 

“Silly rabbit,” his voice whispered down your spine and instantly caused a scream to catch in your throat like bile. 

Somehow, it seemed even the buildings were helping him play tricks on you. The acoustics of his voice bouncing around as an endless echo to disorient you from knowing which direction he would come from. That knowledge alone made a soft hiccup of a sob leave you. You weren’t even aware of the tears stinging against your eyes; your only focus on your escape and cursing your legs as they struggled to pick up the pace. You bite down on your lower lip to keep from letting one tear escape. You refused to give him the satisfaction.

“There’s no place you can run that I won’t find you.”

If you were feeling good about your odds, you would’ve told him to go fuck himself. The declaration is already solidly forming on your tongue and patiently waiting for you to send it off. Unfortunately, the odds were never in your favor.

You didn’t have to look back to know he was still giving chase. 

You struggled to stay focused. Your gaze landing on a liquor store - neon lights flashing with the grace of a motel vacancy sign - gave you a destination to strive for. The earlier choice of the Chinese restaurant now a thing of the past. He’d turned you around so much you weren’t sure if it was ever real. 

What you needed now was a home base that would possibly give a semblance of safety if only you could reach it. It felt damn possible. The feeling of the crazy bastard behind you somehow leaving you, but the anxiety of being chased still resided. 

You were mid-run, feet still lifted off the ground, when an arm snaked around your front and collided your back against a hard chest. A flutter of a moment passed, not long enough for his foreign touch to register, before your neck was exposed by a violent tug of your hair and sharp canines sinking down into the soft skin of your throat. 

That sob you’d held down ripped its way violently from your lips. Mixing together with a scream that shook through you and landed like an earthquake around you. His strong arms dominated you with ease, and continued to constrict across your body to keep your arms useless at your sides. 

The sensation was one that reminded you of your time in second grade. Mrs. Mann’s beloved python that sat motionless a majority of the time in the back corner of the class. You never seen it move until it was feeding time - never live bait - but even then you could still remember the abruptness and strength of the way it matched onto its food. The greedy way it swallowed its’ meal whole after its body made sure one last time the bunny was dead. 

This was what you remembered now as his arms continued to pull your body closer; impossibly closer. The hand that held your neck letting go to secure itself on your opposite shoulder. This man was your boa: squeezing his meal until he popped bones and killed every ounce of oxygen from your lungs.

The pressure was so great that it left your mouth hinged open. Your jaw unable to collapse, mostly due to your body howling for air. The flashing twenty-four hour liquor sign was a comical five feet away. The promised salvations hum of  low voltage electricity and spastic red glow turned into a blur. The tears you’d refused to shed now slid effortlessly down your cheeks. 

The only thing you could be aware of was that you weren’t breathing. Your mouth was still wide open, but your lungs refused to take in air. It didn’t matter that your body ached for it. It focused more on the sensation of a hungry mouth that sucked hungrily at your neck. The sharpened dog teeth that were sunk deep into the skin no longer ached. 

There was a moment you felt something hot slide down your neck and you wanted to yell. Your mind registering it as drool; not being able to comprehend it was your blood seeping between greedy mouthfuls as he drank. It was strange that after all this, your body was still aware of the placement of his hands. His arms still holding deathly tight, and yet you were placed securely up against his chest. 

If someone were to walk by all they would think was that you were just a young couple. Your boyfriend casually holding you from behind and laying kisses on your throat. They wouldn’t notice that the way his arms held yours it kept you from reaching out a pleading hand for help. At this point, you were so weak you weren’t even sure you’d have the strength to lift a finger, let alone a hand. 

The sting of his teeth that found their home in the hollow of your neck began to fade. Your mind was now only able to recognize the euphoric sensation that began to dance through every cell of your body. You no longer felt the need to fight him. Why would you when your body suddenly felt heavy and his arms so secure? 

In all the chaos of a few minutes the pain fueled down into an annoyance that went to the backdrop with the sensation of numbing pleasure. Whether it was blood loss, or defeat, your body began to relax against the undead stranger. A quiet urge to allow him to drink you down until you were nothing. You were sinking deeper against his strong chest; the euphoric feeling that coursed through you had now consumed you. 

You were vaguely aware that he was no longer holding you so tightly. An arm had found its way out of his hold and instead of fighting him off, it guided your hand up to his head. Your fingers now laced in his hair and holding on in pleasure. When your fingers dug and pulled against the hairs on his scalp, his arms moved to pull you closer but didn’t remove your hand. His mouth giving a -lord help you - playful bite that sent a thrill to the ends of your toes. 

And just like that, your lungs found air, and fuck - you moaned. 

A part of you hated the sound that escaped your mouth. That hatred growing stronger when you swore you could feel his lips curl into a smile. As fast as it all must have happened; it felt like an eternity. One you loathed and yet, were silently hoping would never end. You were so lost in the fuzziness of your thoughts, the sensation of him, that when you were flung violently from his arms the last bit of air you’d had left was knocked from them. The asphalt catching your body as it came to a painful multiple rolling stop. 

An eruption of a roar you knew came from the one who’d captured you: enraged at having his meal taken away was your only guess at how angry he truly sounded. You were too tired, too drained, to be afraid. The small part of you that was still capable of common sense knew you should’ve been terrified. To be terrified meant to flee but the amount of energy that would take was not something you had at that moment. 

You were barely able to muster enough of it to flip yourself onto your back. Your neck now alive with a bitterness at how rough he’d been. The feeling that was creeping back into your limbs made it inch by aching inch that it was not happy. A groan left your lips as you mustered another fit of strength to move yourself to your side. Your eyes landing on the one who’d rescued you. 

Jimin stood in the middle of you and the man. The other man who, even from this distance, plainly wore your blood smeared haphazardly around his mouth. A small amount decorating the hollow of his neck that he now wiped away in agitation. While he seemed particularly calm, annoyed, but calm Jimin seemed to reflect his opposite. 

Jimin’s body seemed consumed by a rage that reflected in the crease of his brow and the hard set of his shoulders. His jaw tight as he straightened out his body back to his full height. The other man before him appeared to be a few inches taller, but Jimin’s rage made him appear larger than what he was. 

“Jungkook!” Jimin’s voice rang out. The animosity in his voice radiated against your skin like a flame that threatened to eat you alive. “You dare taste her? Mark her?”

Jungkook didn’t give Jimin the satisfaction of answering him right away. Instead, you watched a coy smile spread on his blood-stained lips. His thumb dragging across the bottom and ended with it pressed inside his mouth. His tongue seductively working to clean up the mess you’d made. Jungkook didn’t let his thumb come back out until it was completely licked clean; his crimson eyes watching your face as he did it. The intensity of his gaze left an aching shiver on your skin and the heat on your cheeks enough to tell it wasn’t all completely out of fear. 

Jimin must have sensed it too. His gaze turning back to take you in at your current state, and finding your eyes glued to Jungkook’s position. The hurt Jimin showed wasn’t something that you could fully comprehend. You weren’t his to have. You belonged only to yourself. The person that he remembered, the woman he’d loved so many centuries ago, was not you. You were your own person. 

So why did the pain that rippled across his face make your heart ache? 

“You place an apple in front of Adam, Jimin and ask him not to take a bite.” He tsked him. The same finger he’d used to clean up your blood now teasing him in a tick tock motion. “You should remember: Adam always was a fool for the most delicious delights.” 

“She is not yours to have! You play me for stupid, Jungkook. I know that blood alone is not hers. Did you plan on making her drink from you?”

Your body became rigid as Jimin’s words embedded themselves into your chest. The fear that’d begun to reside came racing back and forced you to look at Jungkook closer now. You weren’t sure what it was that Jimin had seen that you did not. You feverishly scanned him until, there, the sleeve of his shirt that sat on his wrist was stuck to his skin. The blood there was still bright and fresh and only beginning to brown at its edges. 

It was the same side that held your head to him, neck exposed, earlier until he’d let it go. You’d thought Jungkook released you because he’d realized you were no longer going to put up a struggle and now the sickening feeling of knowing he’d meant to do something more ominous left you feeling nauseous. 

Jimin knew what he was trying to do. You knew from Jimin explaining about blood being a conduit that if you’d taken even a little of blood, Jungkook would’ve been able to find you. Wherever you were. No matter what. 

“I was only doing what MY King asked of me.”

“I could kill you for what you’ve done here.”

The playfulness that’d controlled Jungkook from the unfortunate moment you’d met him disappeared like smoke. His features hardened with a sinister look as he gave Jimin his entire focus. 

“You could try, old King, but you will fail.”

Jimin’s squared shoulders seemed eager to do just that until another voice joined the two men. 

“Now, now Jungkook. We don’t need an all-out fight on this beautiful night do we.”

You knew the owner of the voice long before Namjoon - the asshole himself - stepped out like magic beside Jungkook. A friendly hand resting on his shoulder until Namjoon moved to stand a few inches in front of him. But it wasn’t just Namjoon himself that appeared like magic from the curtains of the night. Two other figures joined at the edges of the men, making a symbol of an arrowhead, and one of these new introductions to this wildly fucked up play was holding the arm of your best friend. 

“Alice” 

At the sound of your voice it brought Namjoon’s full attention back to you. His brow creased in a momentary show of confusion at how cute you must have been looking: a bloodied heap in the middle of the road. He only needed to look to the man beside him on his left to understand your current state. Or perhaps he already knew. Jungkook’s earlier words of his orders swimming back to the surface of your recollection. 

Namjoon held you in his vision for breadth longer and moved his eyes over to the form of your friend. 

“You can still change her fate, Y/N. All you need to do is come with me.” 

Namjoon’s eyes held tightly to you: all of them seeming to watch your exhausted frame. Your mind struggled to comprehend what he meant and what it was exactly you’d have to do to change it. You’d barely been able to move up onto your knees. Your palms still needed on the asphalt of the road to keep you steady. Your whole body shuddered in exhaustion, but looking at Alice now, at what he had done was enough to make the exhaustion disappear and icy fury made your body rigid. 

“She won’t be going anywhere with you,” Jimin snarled. 

His comment snapped their attention back to him. You wanted to tell him yourself that you could make your own decisions. Not even he got to make them for you and yet, you couldn’t muster enough strength to care. Whatever you had left in you needed to be used to rescue Alice. Her lights still on with nobody home. 

“Jimin. I don’t think you’re in any place to be making threats, old friend.”

“It is more than just a threat.”

Namjoon took a step forward and splayed his arms out to indicate the men beside him. They were so caught up in their pissing contest. All you wanted was to know what you needed to do to get Alice back. All the way back and out of this trance he’d flung her in. 

“It took you long enough to come to your supposed “loves’” aid.” Namjoon’s words were filled with a sharp teasing; sharpened and dripping with sarcasm. “It took Jungkook using her as a snack for you to finally come running.”

“She enjoyed it.”

The heat in those three words were enough to send your cheeks heating with warmth and your eyes searching for the safety of the pavement. You wanted to shout your denial to Jungkook that he was wrong. Not a single part of you enjoyed what had transpired between the two of you, but that lie died long before it’d ever brushed your lips. 

Jimin must have realized it too, because now his earlier lividity returned. His eyes flickering with a murderous rage in Jungkook’s direction. 

“Hmm, maybe I should give her to Jungkook to finish what they’d started. What do you think, Jimin? Or I could always just give him Alice.”

Your head snapped back on Namjoon’s moving figure. His right hand resting under his chin as if he was stuck in a philosophical debate, and not the fate of an innocent woman. 

“You touch her and I’ll kill you.”

The coldness of your words stopped him short. Jimin, who’d been moving back towards you, didn’t take another step. You couldn’t believe it was you who’d spoken. Your own voice carrying a warning that was swept up in the air around you. Threatening something much darker than even you were able to understand. 

For a moment, you could tell you’d caught him off guard but Namjoon was quick on his feet. The hand that held his chin a second ago now moved to usher forward the man to his right. The one who was holding tight to Alice. 

“Oh, Y/N. Of course, I don’t want to do anything to your dear, sweet, and innocent little Alice. That’s why I’m giving you this choice.” 

The man whose face eerily held an angelic softness handed her off into Namjoon’s waiting embrace. Only taking a single step back; his dark almond eyes transfixed on you as if you were something dangerous, and not the other way around. His eyes speaking plainly: he wouldn’t let you do a damn thing to his King. 

“Stop giving her speeches of fairness. We both know you don’t have a fair bone in your body. All you know is how to do is take,” Jimin sneered. “I know even if she still says no you won’t stop hunting her until you have her.”

A flash of annoyance struck over Namjoon’s features like lightening and just as fast after it came, it was gone. His face smoothed back to its porcelain indifference. The only thing that showed his displeasure was the way his eyes were beginning to bleed crimson. 

“I would rather her to come willingly.” His reply was stated matter of factly. Namjoon’s eyes darting back to where you still sat on the floor and took a cautious step towards you. His hand on Alice’s arm forcing her to move with him. “But make no mistake, Y/N. I will have you. I will take you. One way or another.”

A scream echoed around you, and it took you a moment to realize it was coming from yourself. All the frustration. The guilt. Anger and grief that’d been building in the last twenty-four hours came out in a wave of exhaled air before you could stop it; before it could swallow you whole. 

“What will it take for any of you to get it through your thick stupid skulls! I am not a prize or some reincarnated lost love you two fought over because one was captain steal-your-girl. I’m literally no one! I’m just me.”

Namjoon released the grip he had on Alice’s arm and took another step toward you. His body language stating clearly he did not find Jimin’s presence between you in the least bit threatening. The pity that he showed you now, etched into the fine features of his face, only seemed to poke at the Amber’s of the animosity you felt towards him more. 

Why couldn’t any of them understand that you were not what they wanted you to be? You were yourself and always will be. And, at this point, you were more than happy to be your plain Jane ordinary self. 

He crouched down until he was leveled with your position on the pavement of the road. While he adjusted himself to your height you allowed yourself enough time to push up off your hands. Your butt now sitting on your calves and the pressure of the added weight sent the jagged pebbles deeper into your knees. As uncomfortable as it was you could deal. At least now you were looking him squarely in the eyes: no more cowering. 

“You really don’t understand, do you?”

“Namjoon.”

Jimin said his name as a warning. In return, Namjoon continued to ignore him. His brow furrowed tight at his attempt to intrude on his would-be heartfelt moment. 

“Your great-great-great grandmother is long dead. There is no bringing her back. Jimin and I have long accepted this. However.” Namjoon paused for a millisecond. Long enough to make your skin itch with the desire for him to hurry up and finish it. “The power that courses through your veins, Y/N it’s centuries old. Older than even she was. Your blood is what we are all after and the magic that flows in it.”

“I can’t even make a quarter disappear.”

Namjoon’s eyes sparked crimson to obsidian in a wild dance as he struggled to get his anger under control. While he didn’t seem to find your small joke funny you’d earned a snort of laughter from somewhere behind him. Even Jimin’s titled head wasn’t enough to hide the small smile that lifted his lips. 

“In time you will learn.”

“I don’t want to learn! What part of that aren’t you getting through your thick fucking skull.”

“That’s enough!” He roared. His face was fully changed now. All teeth and bleeding eyes with a power that shook the fabric of the night to its core. Namjoon’s change caused everyone around him to join in, until you were painfully aware you were the most human on of the group. “Either you come with us now or I rip your friends’ head open like a Pez dispenser.”

Your eyes zeroed in on him. The threat he made ruthless but one you knew deep down in your gut he’d meant. 

“I’d like to see you fuckin try.”

A mouth full of teeth smiled wickedly back at you. His feet obliging you by moving the few steps he’d taken away from Alice back to her side. Where she continued to stand patiently waiting like a zombie.  

There are moments in your life that don’t feel that important. These small decisions that you don’t realize put you on a deeper path to harder ones that you’ll have to make. Those small repercussions building themselves into a mountain of a moment.  

This is what it felt like now. All those decisions in your life you’d made suddenly seemed to expand like an endless sea of stars. So many of them that they couldn’t possibly be connected; and yet came together to create this constellation of your life.  

You watched Namjoon house the words you’d spoken in his mind. The way his face contorted into something that was worthy of pure nightmare fuel. The resolve of strength you’d had to tell him to basically go fuck himself was gone in that instant, because you were made painfully aware that the individuals before you were god-like. What could a helpless mortal do in the face of a god? 

Namjoon proved to you the answer to that was nothing. His speed moving him faster than you could process. You hadn’t even realized he’d moved at all until Jimin was simply in front of you; guarding you. He was now completely standing between Namjoon and yourself. Jimin’s hand catching Namjoon’s wrist; his fingertips milliseconds away from the tip of your nose. 

The two of them were locked in a battle of wills. The strength they commanded showing itself in the struggle of a dance of tug-a-war without any rope.  If Namjoon gained an inch Jimin was quick to take it back.  

“Move!” 

Without question you obeyed and were up on your feet immediately. Jimin didn’t give Namjoon another moment to force him back; his free hand shot out in a blur and connected with his chest. The sheer strength behind it sent him flying back almost a dozen feet before he gained back his footing. A snarl cutting through the air between them and Jungkook and the two other companions were at his side. 

Suddenly, you were painfully aware how outnumbered Jimin truly was.  

“Ugh – Jimin.” 

“Not now!” 

He waved you off as his eyes scanned in other bodies appearing from the shadows behind the four. Like a fool, you allowed yourself to hope that maybe some of these were on your side. By the way Jimin was staring at them, however, you knew that was most definitely not the case. 

“Where a little outnumbered here. Don’t you think!?” 

Was that your voice that cracked? No, no. You were perfectly calm. Super calm. 

Out of your peripherals you were able to catch a flash of movement. That flash was all you seen before teeth were inches from snapping in your face. A scream worked its way up your throat and was torn from your lips as foreign hands gripped your shoulders. You moved to block your face in a weak attempt just before those same hands disappeared.  

Jimin was behind him in seconds and ripped him off you. The two of them moved in a blinding speed of punches and blocking until Jimin’s hand exploded out the back of the other man’s back. Your hand flew to your mouth to stop a scream short; the gruesome mess left you feeling a bit lightheaded as you unwillingly noticed pieces of shirt and...other things dangling at the end of Jimin’s hand. 

It was a devastating wound. One that would’ve killed any normal man, but this wasn’t an ordinary man or a man at all. Jimin’s blow was only meant to wound, not kill, and this perfectly insane stranger was still trying to snap his way towards Jimin. His hands grabbed Jimin’s shoulder and used it to pull him forward. The movement made a sucking noise and made you question if the contents of your last meal were about to reappear like magic. 

Jimin knew the intentions of the other man and quickly drew his arm back. In the same breath, he followed it up with his palm slamming into your would-be attackers chest. The force of the blow sent him back like a limp ragdoll into Namjoon’s growing group.

“We need to get out of here!”

You couldn’t stop the panic dripping from your voice as you watched him narrowly escape another attack. This new body formed itself from the shadows and split free from its darkness with the flash of a blade. Jimin dodged each whirlwind of blows and strikes with an ease that you weren’t sure came from raw power or age. His attacker tried to switch up his attack by sending a flurry of double kicks towards Jimin’s abdomen. This must have been the opening Jimin had waited for. 

Jimin allowed him to land a kick to his side and when the man went to pull away Jimin locked his leg in place with his forearm. Jimin’s fist rushed in a speed of movement to land powerful blows into his exposed stomach and face. When the man tried to stab his blade into Jimin’s back, he easily grabbed his wrist and knocked the knife free from his hand. He was so focused on the knife that he wasn’t aware of the man coming from behind him. Your eyes danced back and forth, in decision on whether to speak or move weighing heavy on you. 

“Behind you!”

You decided on both. Your feet carried you forward as you shouted your warning to him. What you were going to do against a supernatural creature, you had no idea. You just knew you needed to do something. No matter how aware you were that you were incredibly useless in moments like this. Whatever happened when you finally reached him, you knew it was not going to end well for you. And that knowledge made your stomach turn until your body practically vibrated with anxiety.

The man with the blade was now on the floor under Jimin’s boot. Another came sprinting out of the darkness a mixture of snarling teeth and determination. Jimin used the man under him as a soccer ball and sent him flying into the other man. His body turning in a fluid one-eighty to to defend his back against another. 

You weren’t a hundred percent sure what overcame you. Why you felt the need to scream with what you figured was a war cry. The only thing that came out of it was now the singular attention that had been on Jimin now became equally shared between you. A man who’d been heading towards Jimin and the others derailed and was coming straight for you. Suddenly, that new found bravery dissipated and your fear sent the world around in slow motion. Your feet felt stuck in molasses; each step heavier than the last and a silent pleading for you to turn back. But you couldn’t turn back now. 

You braced yourself for whatever was about to happen. One minute, he was two feet from you, and the next he was screaming on the road. A man held on to the collar of his shirt and what was left of his upper body. The rest of him was laid out on the street in a mess of gore. 

The man who’d entered stage right held his own blade that looked more like a short sword. His arm slinging the blade back to whip off the blood onto the street. 

“I think I’m going to be sick.”

You spoke to no one. The words weight no more than a whisper and yet, to you, it felt like you’d been shouting. Crazy sword guy gave you the barest of glances before he was off. That blur of speed brought him to help clear the remaining men off of Jimin until the two of them were standing at each other’s backs. 

“Nice of you to finally make it, Hoseok.”

Hoseok, aka sword wielding-guy, had the grace to look embarrassed. Hoseok’s body bent at a stiff ninety-degrees towards Jimin who seemed too busy dusting off his coat to notice. 

“I apologize that Jin and I were not here sooner.”

Jimin waved him off. His eyes scanned the surrounding darkness and a part of you wondered what it was he saw there. You wanted to ask him, but the possibility of bad news kept you silent. 

“And where is Jin?”

“Waiting.”

What could he possibly be waiting for? You wanted to ask but in no way wanted anymore attention on yourself. A scream that demanded to be found sounded in the night around you. It circled around and asked to be followed. Your eyes locating the origin of the voice in a matter of seconds to Alice. No longer the vacant girl she’d been the last hour and more herself: the terrified edition. The terror in her eyes was enough to make your breath hitch in your throat. 

“V.” Namjoon motioned with a flick of his finger and the man obeyed.

V. He’d been the one who you thought looked Angelic. His eyes were bright, open, and reflected nothing but bad intentions. Pillow soft lips curled up into a sneer of a smile as he stepped forward. He dragged Alice with him pulling her with such force you were worried he would simply tear it from the socket out of boredom. The sounds Alice made to accompany his aggressive movements only solidified your assumption. 

For all the beauty their afterlife had given them, it did nothing to hide the monsters underneath. Even the devil was an angel once.

“Let’s speed thing up, shall we? Either you turn yourself over to me now, Y/N, or I’ll kill her.”

To prove his point, Namjoon reached out to take her from V. His large hand closing around her throat and lifting her up effortlessly. Her dangling feet struggled to kick him, flailing hands scratching at his arm, and to silence her Namjoon noticeably squeezed her tighter. 

“Stop it! Please!”

The words came out in a sob. Your body struggling to take a breath. A fear that if you did, if you moved at all, it would be all he needed to hurt her more. 

“If you want to stop this than I suggest you do as you’re told and get over here. Now.”

The previous cat and mouse coyness in Namjoon’s voice completely vanished. Every word he spoke sent a sliver of fear down your spine. You weren’t going to argue with him as the fight had left you the minute you’d heard her pleading. You moved to take a step forward and found your legs were refusing to move. The more you struggled against the sensation the heavier the feeling of sinking in quicksand became. 

“You aren’t going anywhere.”

The threat in Jimin’s voice was palpable. The anger that clutched his jaw made you want to instantly apologize for even considering leaving. Almost. Your own anger was bubbling to the surface finally and a hushed, “Fuck you,” rumbled free from your chest. 

“Why can’t I move?!”

“Because I’m not letting you.”

There was a split second where it crossed your mind that he had to be joking. You felt so sure it was a sick prank only to see no part of him was joking.

“What does that even mean? You aren’t letting me. I don’t need your permission.”

Jimin’s mouth opened but it was Namjoon’s voice that cut through.

“It means that this is pointless. You didn’t tell me he’d given her any of his blood.”

Why was he saying this towards Alice? Your brow furrowed as confusion began to roll through you in waves. There was no way your brain could comprehend what you were seeing. Namjoon’s arm no longer held her off of her feet. He’d set her down but kept a firm hold of her neck. And Alice. Your best friend. She no longer looked one bit terrified. Instead annoyance had taken residency all over her face. 

“Alice.”

You hated how little your voice sounded. How much it showcased the betrayal you felt. That annoyance that’d wrapped itself around her like a shroud only seemed to grow larger when she glanced in your direction.

“She never mentioned anything to me about him feeding any blood to her. Just that they’d had sex in a dream a few times.”

Heat washed over your face. A blend of anger and embarrassment with you not really knowing which one it was that colored your cheeks.

“Alice!”

Christ. Were you a broken record.

You might as well have been talking to the wind. Alice looked away from you and back at Namjoon. You couldn’t believe what you were seeing. Her eyes were strictly for him. A comical cartoon version with her eyes filled with hearts flashed in your head. And slowly, as you watched her continue to look at him like a lovesick puppy, a horrible realization began to spread. Your chest tight and ready for whatever heart break came next.

Months ago, Alice talked about meeting a guy at a bar. A night when you were supposed to join her, but lied about catching a stomach bug. She’d gone on and on about how he looked. She’d gone into even more detail about the way he’d fucked her. You’d thought he sounded like someone who just wanted a piece of ass. Hated him before you’d even met him. Now your mind was flooding with all the descriptions Alice had ever given.

It had been Namjoon she’d met that night in the bar. The night you’d ditched her.

Slowly, your eyes moved from her hopelessly devoted figure to the man who still held onto her neck. An unseen collar and his arm was the leash.

You never hated someone before. Not really. Sure, you’d said it nonchalantly in passing. Thought you’d understood exactly what it felt like in moments with people that you were sure the only emotion you’d felt was hatred. Looking at Namjoon now – you knew you were wrong.

This hatred was fire in your blood. It threatened to climb up your throat and release out from your mouth until all the air was spent from your lungs. Most of all, this hatred would only be sated by blood.

You hadn’t been aware that your body was moving until you felt a sharpness in your chest. Your hand moved up to clutch absentmindedly at your heart. Was it possible to feel your heart break and be this angry all at once?

“Y/N – stop!”

Jimin’s voice dripped with the command. A command you wanted to tell him to shove his commands up his ass, but your body listened nonetheless. You felt rooted to that very spot. You were too angry to make sense of this. It forced you to close your eyes and attempt to concentrate. No matter what you did you could not get yourself to move.

Jimin walked to where you stood. His body moved to stand in front of you and cut off what little you could see of Namjoon and Alice.

“Out of my way, Jimin!”

“No. You are too angry right now to see this is what he wants. It’s just another trick to get you where he wants you.”

“Well it’s working.”

“You need to try and calm yourself – “

“Fuck you,” you snarled. Your world was narrowing; wilting down to a tunnel vision that only housed enough room for two. “I’m done with being calm. I’m through with being scared.”

A snort of laughter brought your attention through the tunnel and landing on Alice. She was no longer held like a dog on a leash. She stood proudly behind Namjoon at his side. Her arms were crossed over her chest and her eyes stating plainly: you’re a joke.

“What are you going to do, Y/N? All you’ve ever been since I’ve known you is weak. I don’t even know why they’d even fight over someone as pathetic as you.”

Her words stung. Why would she say that? Was he making her say things like this to you?

“Alice. I know this isn’t you.”

Alice shook her head and moved forward. Her arms falling at her side as she regarded you with the same disgust she’d show a piece of shit on her shoe.

“And what do you actually know about me, Y/N? You’ve always known what I wanted you to know.  The person I made you believe I was, is all just someone made up. Imaginary.”

“How can you say that to me? After all the things we’ve been through. The things we told each other. You can act as tough as you want in front of Namjoon, but you and I know the truth.”

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “But how else do you think they found out where we lived? Why did it feel like someone was following you at all your favorite spots? I told him, Y/N. I told them everything I knew about you.”

That fire that’d raged in your blood smoothed into ice. The shock of her words rocked you, and you knew that was exactly what she’d wanted. Alice was not who you thought she was. She’d made that abundantly clear. 

That girl didn’t exist. And all those times you’d come home terrified. Your heart crammed so deep in your throat you’d thought you were going to die from panic. All because you’d thought you were being followed. Alice joked and comforted you into believing it was just your mind playing tricks. When, in all actuality, it had been her doing the entire time.

Alice was a major key player in where you were standing. Surrounded by a pack of wolves.

You were vaguely aware of Jimin at your side. The faded sounds of his voice beside you eventually grew silent. His companion, Hoseok, somewhere off around you. The two of them faced Namjoon and his men. In between making sure they weren’t trying anything, he sent cautionary glances towards you. He must have been able to feel it; sense it.

The flame of your hatred, your betrayal, that had extinguished earlier was roaring back to life. The anger far surpassing what you felt capable of containing inside you. A dark part of you wanted to scorch the earth they stood on. 

Show them.

                                  Burn them.

The softness of the whisper tickled across your ear and raised the hairs on your arms. The sane part of you – what was left of it – knew something wasn’t right. You tried to play it off as just thoughts. The sinister feeling a part of you, a part that all humans had inside them when they were pushed too far. But it whispered again. This time gentler and promising: “Show them the price for a Witch's fury.”

“I don’t know how.”

Your words hung in the darkness of the night as you waited for a reply. The cautionary energy was pulsating now. All eyes wondering if you’d gone insane for talking to yourself. But they couldn’t hear them. The women who felt like friends; relatives.

“Whatever you hear – whatever they’re saying – you must fight them.”

Jimin was back inside your vision. His eyes searching yours to see if you were still with him. You were both present and not. Lost to voices that made you wonder if he could hear them too.

We can show you.

                         We can teach you.

Let

           Us

                         Innnnn…

Your eyes looked back over at Alice. The one person you’d held the closest in your life, second to your own mother. Flashbacks of every moment you’d shared together. From special drinks you’d created on girls’ nights while binge watching ‘The Great British Baking Show,’ and ‘Friends.’ The two of you, drunk, and believing you could easily make a three-tiered cake from scratch. The trips you’d taken. The help you’d given.

All of it had been a lie. A well-crafted play for her just to hand you over to the very monster she proudly stood beside. Looking at her now was enough for you to make your decision.

Jimin must have sensed it. His mouth framed in an unfinished shout that never got a chance to be heard. Silently, you let the sickly-sweet voice know you agreed and suddenly you weren’t the only one in your body.

It felt like dozens of women – yes, women – were housed inside you. Each of them held their own rage at a betrayal they’d suffered. Each deceit seeped into your bones like a cancer.

Jimin’s hand reached out to touch you; could feel the unspoken bound he’d made inside you make a weak attempt to soothe you. It was a warm sensation that moved from your core and up. A ghost of a hug that was only felt by its warmth. 

He was trying to drive whatever darkness you’d allowed in, but your wrath - your hatred - was too strong. It easily pushed back whatever weak attempt he’d tried to bring you back, and sent your hands out against his chest. The force of it sent him flying back; his feet struggling to stay grounded as his feet dragged on the asphalt.

“We are not your playthings.”

When you spoke, it wasn’t just your voice they heard. Your feet that had felt rooted were now moving forward. Your hands that had trembled were steady as they went to the wounds on your throat. The still pulsing wound in your leg. Each hand moved into the aching wounds to release fresh blood in your palms.

A voice inside the chaos came forward. An old oak among raging storms and housed itself there to teach you. All magic flowed through a balance in the universe. You could not give without it taking. This was how balance worked. A debt was owed when you used it for something dark, and this price you would pay with blood.

“Is this some kind of joke?”

Alice no longer looked smug or amused. She looked terrified as she moved to stand closer to Namjoon.

“That parasite will not save you from me, girl.”

Your voice was dry and worn with age. You rode out her fear and moved to kneel in the road a mere feet from her. Your bloodied hands working symbols into the ground as you began to chant in a tongue you did not know.

All you knew was that the fire full of rage that sat deep in your belly would soon consume her. When the last of the words left your lips, a blue flame snacked along the blood you’d spread until it grew and grew; spreading wings to create a small lake of fire between you.

You rose to your feet and looked out among the faces of those that’d wish to harm you. 

                                            Harm us.

You watched as their bodies became tight with anxiety; some of Namjoon’s lackies fear seeped into the air like a sickness. Good. They should be. With an unholy shriek the fire that crept around them spread wide as your arms rose around your head. The only driving thought you had was that you wanted it to cleanse them.

The fire rushed first towards Namjoon and Alice. V and the other broody one you’d yet to learn of his name, quickly grabbed her and were gone. Namjoon offered you a brief look of irritation before he dodged out of the way. The sound of screams brought your attention to your left and watched as your flame licked up, up, and up until it consumed. The vampire with the fist-sized hole in his chest was now struggling to put himself out.

A smile that was not yours curled your lips and a sickening feeling of joy at watching him die made you suddenly grow ill. This wasn’t you. This hatred. This destruction. You didn’t want to be a murderer. The sickly voice that’d whispered reassuringly earlier was now hostile. It wanted to stay.

Your feet began to back peddle away from everyone as best you could. You had no idea where it was you were going, but anywhere that would be safer for them. You turned to start running again and held your hands over your ears as a scream shook across your skull. Only you could hear them and how they pressed hard inside your skull. The pressure overwhelmed you and made you believe at any minute your eyes would be pushed out. 

You’d only gotten a block when your body could no longer take the pain. Your feet caught on the edge of the sidewalk and you went crashing down. The screaming in your head had only grown louder and caused your vision to begin to blur. Maybe your head really was going to explode after all.

You turned your face to look up towards the moon and were greeted by the sight of Jungkook. His fist connecting with your cheek was the last thing you seen before everything went quiet and dark.  

[futurewriter2000]

Assertive People

A/N: I just felt like writing this and I really did enjoy writing it. Hope yall like it. 

PAIRING: Sirius Black x reader

XX

“I am in love with you.” a sudden voice spoke next to your right. 

Slowly, carefully even, you turned your head to his face and decided to give him the cold shoulder. You turned your head back to your book and continued to read. 

“Ignoring me. The perfect type.” he bit his lower lip and leaned over the table and into your eyesight. He walked with his index and middle finger to your book and placed his whole palm on top of it. “Woo-hoo.” 

You shot him a deadly glare and pulled your book under his palm. You swung your bag over your shoulder in a flash, you were gone. Frustrated and angry, you stormed to the library instead. 

Hearing his footsteps run along after you, made you sped up and turn your current goal from library to the room of requirements. In a second, he lost you. 

“Bollocks.” he put his hands over his black curs and ran his hands down his face. 

---

He hadn’t seen you in the next few days. He told himself that you must have been avoiding him. The pretty, mysterious Durmstrang girl, who clearly wasn’t joyous from switching schools. He had always found you intriguing, made it his mission to make you his friend... if not more. 

Quiet, never smiling and always with a book tucked under your arm, you swiftly moved down the corridors, in the Great Hall and on to every corner of the castle. you hadn’t talked to anybody, made it clear you do not like making friends in this school. In and out was your plan. 

You never raised your hand but exceeded in every subject except Arithmancy. It was average but the grades started getting better throughout the following months. 

He had seen you in the common room, tucked behind a book. 

Gryffindor. Just the perfect house for you. He was excited to hear you got into Gryffindor instead of Slytherin since you had shown more characteristic of one than the other. 

“Here is why.” he sat down and grin, his eyes lifted up into the ceiling. “I think it was love at first sight. I saw you and you were this stunning woman I had ever laid my eyes on. You clearly did not even look at me, nor anybody really- which I don’t get.” he sat and leaned forward to you, this time his eyes blazing into you and the other way around. “You don’t talk. I don’t think I had ever heard you talk- you voice. It doesn’t matter.” he leaned back again, his eyes on you. “I think no matter the voice, it’s gorgeous.” he winked flirtatiously at you but you haven’t changed your expression. “Why don’t we start properly?” he cleared his throat and reached out his hand. “My name is Sirius Black.” 

You kept looking at him with perplexion in your eyes, then glanced at his hand and slowly reached down on it with your right hand. It was large in your hand, soft and it squeezed your hand firmly and shook it extremely slowly. He kept looking at you with a sparkle in his grey arms that resulted into baby blue colour close to his iris. 

“(y/n).” you said without any hint of emotion in your tone. “But I figure you already knew that.” you finished and pulled your hand away from him, leaning back on the sofa and turning your gaze back to the book. 

He felt his cheeks lift up to his eyes. “That’s something... (y/n).”  he rolled your name gently off his tongue, reaching into his bag and pulling out his own book- not just any book but the same book you read currently. He leaned back on the sofa and turned to first page. 

From curiousity, your eyes couldn’t stay long on the written words when you saw him shuffling on the sofa. You looked up and saw the same title of your book, written over his, the coverage, however, was green instead of orange like yours. He glanced up at you, his grey eyes meeting yours. You saw them lift as if he smiled but you couldn’t see due to the book that hid lower half of his head. 

You turned back to your book, hiding your own little simper. 

---

Sense of time isn’t present when you’re reading a book. You have no idea whether it was an hour or 10 minutes but you knew it was long when you heard him gasp in the middle of your reading session. You looked up and found him staring profoundly into the book. 

“No!” he gasped again, getting so close to the book that you thought he might consume it. 

He must be at the part where the little girl drowns. 

He flips back a page, tracing the sentences with his fingers and flipping fiercely the page forth- then back, then forth again, then he just kept doing that until he only moved the page front and back until he stopped and stared at you. “She dies?!” he frowns at you with his lower lip pointing out and his eyes about to tear up. “Bu- but it was supposed to be happy- he was supposed to-” he stopped as he finally saw your facial expression. 

You were smiling at him, your eyes sparkling at his reaction to the book. He felt his heart do a back flip as he found you hiding your lower half of your head behind your book, your chest jumping as you laughed a bit. 

“You think it’s funny?” he quirked an eyebrow. 

“No. I think your reaction is as close to mine when I read the chapter. Wait a few more chapters.” you pressed the whole book on your chest and pulled yourself up to the sofa. 

He watched you with wonder in his eyes. He had never saw a woman so gorgeous with her hair messed up like that. Your lips in a soft smile, your cheeks red from the fire and hands wrapping around the book. 

He can’t ruin this. Stick to the book, Sirius. Stick to the book. 

“Does he end up happy?” he asked, putting the book away just like you did. 

“I don’t know.” you smiled, looking at the fireplace, then back at him. “It’s fiction, not a fairy tale. Knowing a few works of this author, I’d say he will end it in a way that it’s comforting.”

“Comforting?” 

“No- is probably the answer.” you smiled, pulling your legs up to your chin. 

“You were just going to let me down easy, huh?” 

“You’re assertive. You rush into things.”

“That’s a sudden change of subject.” he said. “ Though if I’m the subject it’s a good change then.” he flashed you a smile. 

“I don’t like assertive people, that’s why I read books because it’s a slow process.”

“That I do not like. Being assertive also means confident, which you have.”

“I don’t think being confident is something bad.”

“I never said it was.”

“Then what did you mean by that?” 

“That we are both assertive, both confident and I do maybe rush into things but only because I wanna get it before it disappears.” he smiled at you, mirroring your position and pulling his legs up to his chin. “It’s not a bad thing.”

“I never said it was.” you smirked.

“You implied.”

“I did, didn’t I?” you looked at the fireplace again, then back at him. It was a moment of silence, a nice moment and so you made it count to read his expression, take in his wonderfully structured face. “What really caught your eye with me, Sirius Black?” 

“I thought I told you.” 

“No. You told me what I wanted to hear.” 

“Your ignorance.” 

“Alright.” 

“You walked the halls with pride and ego, your head high, your chin up- too much confidence for a british woman, which you are not since you are from Durmstrang. Students there are cocky, high society-”

“That’s where you’re wrong. Students there are eager to learn because nobody wants to go back to their homes and live the life of their parents.”

“Cold.” 

“It is cold there- what do you expect?” you tilted your head.

“You miss it?”

“Yes. All my friends and family went there.”

“Then why don’t you make friends here?” 

“It’s not my priority.”

“Then what is?” 

“Succeeding. Achieving my goals.”

“How come you’re not in Slytherin?”

“I told the Hat I want to be in Gryffindor.”

Sirius wanted to say something but your answer surprised him. “Wh- I mean, aren’t-”

“You said it yourself, Sirius Black. We are assertive people.” you smiled again, then started to gather your things and prepared to leave. “Plus I prefer red over green.” you looked over your shoulder and sent him a wink.

He chuckled to your answer and shook his head. 

---

He had found you in the same place the next evening. Same sofa, same position, however, this time you brought yourself a blanket to cover your legs. 

He sat himself to his place and opened himself the book. The two of you met with your eyes, smiled and turned back to the book. 

Time passed and this time the reading was interrupted by your sharp intake of breath. Sirius looked up at you, found your eyes confused and tearing the book apart. Your eyebrows were drawn together and tears started to gather in your eyes. You flipped another, the last page and read aggressievely, your finger tracing the sentances until it reached half of the page and your eyes stopped. 

You stared at the page, then your eyes flickered up to his and a tear rolled down your cheek. You smiled through it and wiped the tear away. “Guess it doesn’t end up happily.” you tilted your head and he gave you a comforting simper. 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yeah.” you let out a chuckle. “Just... a really shitty ending.” 

“Do I even want to finish this book?”

“Honestly?”

“Yeah.”

“No, you don’t want to.”

“But I probably will because now you sparked my curiousity.” 

You let out another laugh, leaning on the back of the sofa. “What chapter are you on?”

“Not far behind you. I spent last night reading another half, so I’m-” he put his arm up and checked his watch. “Maybe ten minutes away.” he smiled then looked down at your blanket. “May I?” 

You looked down and nodded. “Yeah, sure.” you threw him the other end of the blanket and soon felt his cold feet touch yours. “Wow. You’re freezing.”

“Yeah, no thanks to your selfish arse.” he joked and you laughed. 

“You could have easily asked.” 

“And you could have easily offered.”

“My mind wasn’t on your cold feet or your needs.”

“Should be.” he continued to joke. “I was born to be served.” he threw his hair back and you laughed again, throwing pillow at , then leaning back and watching him. He looked at you and furrowed his eyebrows. “So you’re just going to stare at me?”

“You saw me cry. It’s only fair, I see you.”

“That’s unfair. My masculinity!” he put his hand over his heart and backed away.

“You’re pretending like you already had one to begin with.”

“You’re pretty mean.” 

“I’m being nice.”

He gasped, mouth open before turning into a grin. “Fine but let me tell you I won’t shed a tear. I never liked this characters anyway. I’m a man.”

---

You observed him as he read the next 10 to 15 minutes, flipping from one page to another, his expressions always changing. Sometimes he would mouth the sentences and furrow his eyebrows, re-reading them again. You could see he wasn’t much of a reader to begin with but he clearly enjoyed the book, living in it as he had completely ignored your gaze. 

He bit his lower lip as he flipped to the last page, leaning back with his mouth open and you could see his eyes changing colour. He wasn’t sad... no, not like you. He was furious, angry even. I guess, everybody has their own reaction to things. 

He slammed the book shut, fury on his face up until his eyes met yours. You were looking it him with affection- comfort maybe?

“How could you cry after this? It’s abominable.”

“It’s a book.” you smiled, leaning back and stretching your arms over your head. 

“Fine. Then it’s an abominable book.” he spoke with frustration and you only chuckled. 

You shrugged. “Wanna go get ice-cream?” 

Sirius’ face went through three different expressions when you asked him that. “What?” 

“You clearly need some comfort after what you just read.” you smiled and uncovered your legs, pulling them away from the warmth. 

It was at that moment, when you placed your feet on the ground that had Sirius realized how close the two of you were. The moment he felt cold again when you removed your legs from his; they were intetwined together all this time since he was reading. He just didn’t realize it because he was completely lost in the book. 

He felt something burn his cheeks and it wasn’t the fireplace that caused it. He stood up and stretched his arms over his head, grinning. When he stretched and cracked some of his joints, his arms fell right on your shoulder and pulled you a bit close. “Is the ice queen asking me on a date?” he teased, whispering to your ear.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “No, the ice queen wants some ice CrEaM to drown her sorrows in, now are you in or out?” you said but never removing his arm from your shoulder. 

“Only if we eat from the same bucket.” he wiggled his eyebrows and you laughed. 

“Get lost, Black.” you pushed his arm off and started walking. 

“Oh, I knew you’d warm up to me eventually.” 

“The book was a nice way in.” you shrugged.

“I know. Quite opposite of assertive, wouldn’t you say?”

“Bog off.” 

“I’m going to love what we have.” he wrapped his arm around you and pressed you close as the two of you walked together. “Especially if we share the ice-cream together. Imagine the bond. That won’t ever go away.”

“Are you always this dramatic?” 

“Depends on who you ask.”

“Don’t make me regret this.”

“I won’t for the life of it.”

[cherrybombwritesstuff]

Guardian of the Shrine

Tengu Kirishima x Fem Reader fic

Explicit/Smut

This is part of the Citrus Dome server collab Gods AU! 

Masterlist coming soon @lemonlordleah-shinzawa-kitten​

ENJOY!

Black, swirling shadows circled your ankles, reached out to capture your fingers as you instinctively flinched away; legs stuck in their place as though encased in blocks of ice. Your own gasping breaths filled your ears along with your thudding heartbeat. Despite how much you willed your eyes to shut they remained open, unblinking and staring at the inky void before you. The shadows rushed together, spiraling and entwining around each other until a tall figure formed in the distance. Angled shoulders jutted out each side, obscenely long arms dripped out of the writhing mass and they shakily began to reach forward, reach for you. Your mouth hung open in a silent scream, eyes wide in horror as the figure shunted closer still. 

“Never...forgive…” 

The words drilled into your ears. Long, black tendrils of hair slithered about the being’s shoulders and didn’t stop when they reached the floor, pooling around the creature’s pale ankles as more of it’s flesh became visible. The hair crept forward, inching its way to your trapped feet no matter how much you tried to squirm and writhe out of your stuck position. 

“I’ll never...forgive…”

The summer air was thick as you gulped it down, chest rising and falling as you gasped for air. Your blankets were a twisted mess crumpled at your side. Sweat dappled your skin as you lay sprawled out on your futon, back in the comforting darkness of your room. A soft whimper left your dry lips as you wiped your forehead and tried to steady your racing heart. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness you reached to your side, grabbing hold of the talisman you had kept from your childhood.

“Baku-san.” you said between breaths, “Baku-san, come eat my dream.”

Morning sun streamed through your modest home and you stirred awake. The horrors of the night were still fresh in your mind, yet it appeared as though the Baku had consumed any further nightmares and you were able to sleep peacefully until the morning. With a groan, you pulled yourself from your blankets and straightened them out before you began your morning ritual. Your first task was to leave a piece of candy on your pillow for the zashiki warashi who had kindly taken up residence in your home. From a very early age you had been able to see and interact with yokai, something you had always considered a blessing rather than a curse. Your parents would catch you talking to guestroom children, or sneaking a bottle of fine sake outside for the troublesome tanuki. 

You wandered barefoot outside, patches of sunlight warming your skin as you collected water to wash. The forest was calm, quiet other than the birds and wind as it whistled through the bamboo. The water was a cold addition to the chilly morning breeze, but it was a welcome necessity, waking you up for the full day of tasks ahead. Fully dressed with your hair pinned up, you prepared a simple lunch and packed it along with a container of water and your broom. Your isolated home was a short walk from the shrine, but admittedly those stairs made your thighs ache. Respectfully bowing at the Torii, you noticed the path was mercifully clear of leaves and debris, a testament to your hard work. 

After purifying at the chozuya, you continued to the shrine which was looking much better than the pitiful state you found it in. It had long been abandoned, possibly because of the overwhelming yokai activity in the area, though many of the stories you heard could have been attributed to bandits and wandering thieves. You had restored it to the best of your abilities, cleaning away dead plants and moss where you could. The warm sun streamed against the shrine, highlighting the dips and curves of the long nosed Tengu mask that sat there. You reached the top and clapped your hands once before pressing your palms together in prayer. Silently asking for purification, for release from the blackness that haunted your dreams and followed your every footstep. The shadow was the reason you moved away from your town, choosing the seclusion of the forested mountains to protect your loved ones. It had been your hope that by pleasing the yokai you could find help, something to appease the darkness or banish it from your life entirely. But it only seemed to be getting closer with every night that passed. 

"Good morning." You said brightly as you could muster. 

Setting your food aside, you took your broom and started sweeping. The shrine needed regular upkeep and you were the only person available for miles around. At first, your intention had been a trade, for the guardian of the shrine to protect you from whatever it was that tormented you. As time went on, attending to the shrine brought you a sense of peace, as well as something of a companion in your self imposed solitude. After briefly tidying up, you sat at the shrine and unwrapped your food. 

"It's going to be a sunny day today, I should be able to visit the lake without getting caught in the rain." 

It was quiet. The only replies you could hear were from the chirping morning birds. It would always be a one way conversation, but you could feel an unmistakable presence in this place. Someone or something would always listen to you. 

"I um. I dreamed about him again. I think at this point, Baku-san may grow fat from the dreams I ask him to take…"

Dread pooled in the pit of your stomach. An unpleasant squeeze at your chest caught your breath as you tried to take a few more bites of rice. 

"I don't think I have much time. I can feel it getting closer to me…" 

Your smile faded, eyes stinging with unshed tears before you could gather yourself in front of the shrine. 

"But I'm not giving up! A-and I'll keep coming here as long as I can…I don't want you to be lonely again." 

A surge of despair was the very first feeling that hit you the first time you ascended these steps. The shrine had been forgotten and whatever lingered here abandoned along with it. The overwhelming wave of sadness that enveloped you that day completely distracted from your own plight. Originally the plan was to ask for help, but it was apparent there was something here that needed it more. 

"Maybe if it reveals itself, I can talk to it and find out why it's so angry…" 

You weren't fooled by your own shaky tone and apparently, neither was the being in the shrine. As you finished your half of the food, warmth began to radiate from the Tengu mask. It draped over your shoulders like a comforting blanket, easing your nerves as you sighed out your frustrations. With every visit, the presence grew stronger as though you could almost reach out and touch a tangible being. 

"Thank you…" 

As much as you wanted to remain there, the day's list of tasks was long and if you wanted to sustain yourself, you had to get started. You stood and took hold of the empty lunchbox from yesterday, leaving half of your food behind to share with your only friend out here. It was always gone by the time you came back, though you couldn't exactly prove who was finishing it off. Dusting off your knees, you respectfully bowed and said your goodbyes before heading back down the steps to the shrine and into the forest. Heat rose along with the sun. Splashing your face with the clear water of the lake helped somewhat and you hoped the locals wouldn't mind. You left a new batch of cucumbers floating there, knowing the Kappa would appreciate them and, who knows, maybe they could eventually help ward off your demons. There was still hope but your heart grew heavier as the day went on. A full day of chores would ensure you slept despite your fear, though you couldn't help but wonder if you would even wake up again the next morning. 

With aching feet you trudged back through your door, announcing your return out loud for your own benefit. The candy left out had mysteriously disappeared which brought the touch of a smile to your cheek. The sun burned an angry red as it disappeared over the horizon, forcing yourself to light the lanterns around your modest home. Your limited crops had been tended to, bamboo and wood had been chopped and you had collected enough water for your bath, which you sorely needed by now. After a simple meal, you washed the labours of the day from your skin before climbing into the steaming tub for a soak. The hot water soothed your aching muscles, but the heat couldn't penetrate that cold, sickly feeling in the pit of your stomach. It was there. Its presence was weak, but it grew with every passing hour of the night. The shadows around you flickered in the low light of the lantern flames, at least that's what you told yourself. Movement kept grabbing your attention, twitching at the corners of your eyes until you sharply turned to glance behind you. 

Nothing, nothing you could see with a naked eye that is. You released a breath you had been holding and rubbed your eyes, looking again just to make sure. This time something did catch your eye, small and unassuming but it hadn't been there a second ago. You rose out of your bath, wrapping a towel around you as you closed in on the unfamiliar object. Your eyes adjusted and you recognised a long, black feather placed neatly on the ground by the door as though it were waiting for you. Instinctively you picked it up and immediately you could feel a tingling warmth radiating up your fingertips. Its origin was a mystery but for some bizarre reason, holding it brought you comfort. Given the amount of yokai you had been trying to appease, it could have been a gift from any one of them. Maybe this could bring you peace tonight. With a hopeful smile you quietly thanked the gifter before changing into your night wear and letting your hair down. Your intention was to place the feather under your pillow before you slept, that was until you threw back the covers to your futon.

Hidden underneath was the shattered remains of the Baku charm. The amulet that had protected you from nightmares since childhood lay in pieces, sadistically spread out beneath your blankets for you to find. A helpless whimper escaped you before you could stop it. Exhaustion from the relentless dread and the days work enveloped your limbs regardless of your discovery. With a heavy sigh, you collected the pieces and sadly gathered them in a pile at the side of your bed. Kneeling at its side, you clutched the feather close to your chest, its softness bringing you a little comfort, but it couldn't banish the darkness that was now rapidly closing in. An uneasy pang twisted your gut and you opened your eyes, frantically looking around your room. Breath caught in your throat when you noticed small, scattered holes in the Shoji. Against your better judgement, you crawled a little closer to inspect them, only to be met with the staring mokumokuren. Instantly you jumped back in fright, shuffling away from what must have been dozens of disembodied eyes, completely trained on you. They weren't here to harm you however, they were here to watch. 

The air turned thick and suffocating, like a miasma of oppressive fear. The shadows around you curled and moved, revealing their true forms of long tendrils of black hair. You shook your head in disbelief, gasping for breath as it slithered from the corners of your room. 

"...never forgive…" 

Those words hit you into reality and you scrambled to your feet on trembling limbs. A ghostly white set of hands shifted through the wall, long fingers reaching for you. Fear gripped your body, the only command that echoed through your head seemed to be whispered over and over outside the house; run. Almost tripping over your own feet, you turned on your heel to flee. A searing, white hot pain hit your shoulder, forcing your torso to twist as you hurtled out of the door. Landing hard on your knees, you paused to look back, horrified to find a burning black hand print on your bare shoulder. Heavy footsteps thundered through your home, pale arms and feet almost glowed in the darkness and you recognised the figure lurching towards you as the same one that haunted your nightmares. His hair almost reached the ground, twisting around his jagged shoulders. Dressed entirely in white robes that enveloped his gaunt figure. Black, sunken circles sat where his eyes should have been. His pace was slow, until a random jerk of movement pulled him forward, closer to you. Inwardly you begged your limbs to move, fingernails scratching at the dirt to drag yourself away. 

"I'll never...forgive you…" 

What did those words even mean? It seemed as though you would die tonight never knowing. Your eyes burned with tears as you crawled further away. A flash of red fur caught your attention, snapping your head to look at the path before you. A fox stood inches from you, its golden eyes locked on yours before it turned and dashed towards the forest trees. It stopped before disappearing, glancing back at you, waiting for you to follow. His fur seemed to glow, sending a sliver of hope to your stomach and it pulled you to your feet. Foxes were messengers, this had to be the help you had been looking for. The creature was fast but wouldn't let you lose sight of it, stopping every now and then to allow you to keep following up the steps of the shrine. The darkness continued to trace your footsteps, blackness curling through the ground like an infection spreading, filling everything it touched. You stumbled on the stone in your bare feet, lungs burning as you finally reached the top, only to have that same searing pain from before grasping around your ankles. You fell hard on your stomach, kicking at the creature as tendrils of black hair began to travel up your legs. 

"Let go!! I didn't do anything to you!" you cried out as it climbed over your body. 

"I'll never forgive you!" It roared back in response. 

The fox shrieked, its fur bristling as it faced the ghostly creature. The pain on your legs subsided and your attacker snarled as it suddenly retreated back. Light pooled at the base of the shrine, gently swirling around you and creating a barrier which the being refused to touch. It was cool to the touch, bringing some relief to your burning skin. Long black feathers started drifting around you, floating gracefully to the ground and you realised the creature's attention was no longer on you, it was staring above your head at something that stood behind you. d, straight past you. 

“Why are you still here?” 

The voice was unfamiliar, yet oddly soothing. You turned away from the monster to find yourself gazing up at a man, face covered in the Tengu mask from the shrine and shoulders obscured by two large, feathery wings. He stepped around you, protective light surrounding him as he placed himself between you and the gaunt man. 

“She...She’s gone… it’s their fault. Their fault...THEIR FAULT!” 

You covered your ears as the spirit wailed, cowering behind the tall being as he relaxed his wings, creating a wider guard between you. 

“This girl isn’t who you’re looking for. Your love died years ago…” 

The black hair was retracting, slithering back to a shorter length around the creatures shoulders. It shook its head, bony fingers clawing at its scalp as it’s shrill voice dissolved into a whimper.

“Their fault… theirs…” 

The winged man reached out, resting a large hand on the spirit’s shoulder.

“Your love died in childbirth right?”

A pathetic wail escaped his crooked mouth. You peered around your protector’s robes, your heart stopping when you noticed large tears oozing out of the creature’s sunken eyes.

“Let go of your grudge my friend. Then you’ll be able to see her, she’s been waiting for you.” 

Time seemed to halt around you. Falling feathers slowed mid air and a deafening silence swept through the forest.  The monster’s visage seemed to crack, peeling away like rust to reveal a dark haired young man, tears streaked across his face. The kind being gently turned his shoulder, inviting him to cast his eyes to the bottom of the steps to the shrine. She stood inside the archway, a beautiful young woman dressed in white. The spirit whispered her name before heading down the stone steps. The black infection that stained the ground retreated with every step he took, disappearing completely when he closed the gap between him and the smiling woman. Swirling light surrounded the both of them, but before you could witness their fate, the winged man turned to face you, intentionally blocking out the event as time began to flow normally once again. 

“You’re safe now!” he said brightly, head tilted to the side. 

You simply couldn’t find the words, not after what you had witnessed. Hell you couldn’t even make sense of it yet. The roaming light faded, leaving you both bathed in the moonlight. 

“Are you alright?” he questioned after a brief silence, taking a moment to remove the mask. 

He seemed not to notice your eyes widen as you took in the sight. Beneath the mask was the face of a man, high cheekbones surrounded by spikes of red hair. After the night’s events nothing really should have surprised you, yet you still felt unprepared for how handsome he was…

“I-I um… what...who was that person?” 

He knelt down by your side, taking your comparatively small hand in his while resting the other on your shoulder. The danger was gone, but you were still shaking. 

“That was an Onryo… from what I can tell he’s been haunting your family for generations.” 

His matter of fact tone caught you off guard, yet you nodded as though you understood. 

“I...I see. And um...wh-who are you?” 

His eyes widened and he scratched at the back of his head. His mouth curved in a wide, embarrassed smile that revealed two rows of sharp teeth. 

“Oh yeah! Probably should have introduced myself huh? My name is Kirishima Eijirou, this is my shrine.” 

His tone was bright and welcoming, a stark contrast to the horrors you had faced moments ago. He read your blank expression and let out a sympathetic chuckle.

“Let me get you home… you’ve had a rough night huh?” he grinned before slipping his powerful arms beneath you and lifting you off of the ground. 

You could feel your cheeks burning as he held you against his broad chest, bare skin showing through flowing, open robes. He walked down at a steady pace, as though you weighed barely anything to him as he carried you. 

“Um… Kirishima?” 

He hummed in response, looking down at you in anticipation. You held your breath, sure that your cheeks were turning the same colour as his hair. 

“Do you know why I was being targeted by that spirit? You seemed to know who he was…”

He cleared his throat and glanced away for a moment.

“Oh uh, I was looking into it for you. I could feel it clinging to you when you first started visiting the shrine… so I asked for some help!” 

You studied his face as he spoke, a little taken by his sculpted jawline and in the limited light it almost looked as though his cheeks were turning a warm shade of pink. 

“The Baku told me about your dreams, it wasn’t difficult to figure it out from there. I just had to find the person he was mourning.” 

It didn’t seem as easy as he was making it sound. 

“His love died in childbirth a few generations back. Looks like he was shunned from her family after that, his child was taken and raised without him. I’m not sure how he died but his pain lingered. He haunted the descendants of that family...but it looks like he was really able to get to you huh?”

He gestured to the blackened handprint seared into your shoulder, careful not to touch it. The cool night air grazed your skin and it made you realise how exposed your nightwear had left your skin. Awkwardly you pulled the material closer, shielding what flesh you could under Kirishima’s lingering gaze. 

“I’m sorry…” he murmured.

“I wish I could have helped you sooner. You must have been so scared…” 

Your heart fluttered a little, his eyes cast down in guilt. Without hesitation you reached for his cheek, caressing his skin with your thumb. 

“It’s alright, really! You protected me, I owe you my life…” 

He didn’t shy away from your touch but you could feel him stiffen, mouth hanging open slightly as blood rushed to  his ears and cheeks. Your eyes locked with his, melting what little confidence you had and you retracted your hand quicker than you intended. 

“Ah...nah. It was the least I could do…”

It wasn’t long before you were home but he didn’t let go, carrying you through to your bedroom. Your lanterns flickered on as he passed them, lighting the room enough to highlight the shining black feathers of his beautiful wings. He set you down carefully on top of your futon and you noticed the little holes from before had disappeared from the shoji. 

“Now then… the curse should be gone, but uh… those marks are going to leave some nasty scars.” he explained, noting the cruel handprints on both of your legs. 

They still stung, though they were a little less angry from when they were inflicted. Kirishima sat back on his haunches, scratching the back of his neck nervously. 

“I uh, I could help heal them for you but, it may feel a little strange.” 

You couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, still attempting to wrap your mind around the being before you. 

“You’re a Tengu aren’t you? I didn’t know you could heal people…” 

He barked a laugh at that, gaining a little confidence as his wings bristled with pride. 

“Oh yeah! We can do a lot of things you wouldn’t know about.” he said with a wink, and you had to wonder if he even realised how damned suggestive that had come across as. 

“Well… I know I can trust you. I can handle a little strangeness after tonight.” you reassured him with a smile. 

His smile seemed to widen at that and he moved in a little closer. 

“Alright then. Just lie there and relax for me, ok?”

You weren’t sure if you were still jumpy after the attack, or if it had only just properly dawned on you that you were alone in your bedroom in the presence of a very attractive yokai, but the way he hovered over your body sent your heard thudding violently in your chest. He began at your legs, large, calloused hands drifting over the soft skin of your calf. He held your ankle so delicately, contrasting the power that must have lay beneath those thick muscles of his arms. A tingling sensation caressed your skin where he touched you, pulsing through your skin like a soothing massage. With utmost care, he lifted your leg a little higher and pressed a soft kiss to the afflicted area. Before you could stop it, a quiet moan escaped your lips in response; had your skin always been this sensitive? With a hand over your mouth, you watched as he took your other leg and repeated the same actions. You couldn’t help but watch, noting how his eyes shut when he kissed your ankle, how long his lashes were and how they complimented his masculine features. Even though you bit down on your tongue, a quiet moan was caught against your hand and the warm, tingling sensations in both of your legs lingered even after he let go. There was no time to recover as he moved upwards, reaching over to your shoulder to gently pull your clothing away from it.  

“Just one more to go. But I can stop if you need me to…”

Catching your breath, you reached out to him, small hands grasping at his firm shoulders. 

“Please...don’t stop.” you asked him, eyes glazing over with the pleasurable touches that continued to ghost your legs. 

The Tengu climbed over you with a wolfish grin, caging you in with his sculpted arms. 

“Very well… you asked for it, little one.” 

His fingertips tickled your skin before you could regret your choices, glancing over the final burn and instantly easing the sting. This time you didn’t hold back your voice, mewling shamelessly as his lips once again met your flesh. He didn’t stop at one, trailing soft kisses along your collarbone and with each touch he left behind those delectable tingles that pulsed through your body. 

“Ahh! K-Kirishima…” you whimpered, writhing beneath him as pain transformed completely into pleasure. 

“Do you want me to stop? Or do you want me to keep going…” he breathed against your neck, sharp teeth grazing you before he nipped at your ear. 

“Kirishima… I want you, please I… I need you…” 

You could barely register the words that left your mouth, but you couldn’t find it in you to regret them. This rescue wasn’t your first meeting, he felt far too familiar for that. This yokai, this man  had been your only meaningful company while you suffered a curse. The energy he poured into you was the same you felt everyday at the shrine and you refused to let it go. 

“As you wish…” he whispered before peeling your robes from your body.

He moved over you fully, pressing his mouth against yours in a passionate, breathless kiss. His thick fingers ran through your hair and he moaned against you. 

“I’ve waited for this…” he admitted, kissing a path down your chest. 

His hands took hold of your breasts, fingertips gently pressing into your pliant flesh as his mouth closed over your nipple. Your back arched, his touch electric that ran currents through your entire being. 

“Keep making those sounds for me little one… don’t you dare stop.” he growled against you. 

He continued down, spreading your thighs and pinning them there as he took in the sight of you. 

“You’re so beautiful y/n...so damned beautiful.” 

Your eyes flew open as he nibbled at your inner thigh, sucking little purple marks into your soft flesh. 

“Y-you...you know my name?” you breathed, hips bucking as he kissed his way closer to your mound. 

“I do...I’ve known since you started restoring my shrine.” 

He took hold of your hips, keeping them still as he placed teasing kisses down the length of your slit. 

“You’re mine y/n. I knew from the first time you came to me… I had to claim you for myself…” 

You bit your lip as his tongue separated your silken folds, sliding up and back down again before he circled your sensitive clit. He groaned in satisfaction at your taste, upping his efforts as he lapped at your nectar hungrily. He didn’t give you a moment to adjust, strong hands securing you down as he took that sensitive little pearl between his lips and flicked his tongue against it. 

“Ohhh fuck!! K-Kirishima...you’re gonna make me…” 

You barely had time to warn him before it hit, jolts of tingling pleasure pulsing through your body, shaking you to your very core. He pressed his tongue against you, continuing to drink your essence as you squirmed in his grip. 

“Good girl… my good girl…” 

He released you and pushed himself to his knees, stripping himself of his robes and stretching out his wings before he climbed back over you. Gazing up at him through your lashes, you were able to appreciate his body in full. Solid muscle rippling beneath his skin as though he had been sculpted by a master. His cock was thick, fully erect and you could barely stand the wait. You need him inside you, to fill you and claim you just like he said he would. He crawled back over you, the tip of his cock trailing against your thigh before it pressed against your soaked, needy cunt. 

“Tell me what you want little one...I need to hear you say it…”

His lids were heavy, drunk with lust for you as he kept himself from sheathing his cock inside your welcoming pussy right then and there. You reached up, your fingernails tracing his scalp as you pulled him in for a hungry kiss. 

“Kirishima...please fuck me. I need you to take me…” 

“Oh fuck… good girl…” he growled before finally thrusting his hips and bottoming out inside you. 

You held onto his neck, coaxing him to hold you close as he moved against you. It was impossible to hold back, moaning and mewling against his ear as he fucked you, his thick shaft filling you perfectly, the head of his cock pressing against every sensitive spot you had. Without warning he wrapped his arms around your lower back, lifting you up to sit on his lap as he impaled you over and over. You clung to him as you brought your hips up and down and matched his rhythm. He was beautiful even now, face contorted with pure pleasure as you clenched around his cock. He groaned against you, holding you against his glistening skin. 

“Fuck… you’re mind little one...all mine…” 

He quickened his pace, his moans echoing through the room along with the clashing of flesh as he neared his limit. Your thighs tensed, white hot pleasure coiling in the pit of your stomach as you reached the edge of your second orgasm. 

“Oh fuck… fuck you feel so damned good… so good!” 

He called out as he released, filling you with hot fluid as you milked his cock for everything he had. You followed a second after him, squeezing around his twitching shaft as your head fell back, dark spots forming in your vision as you both fell together in ecstasy. Kirishima rocked backwards, landing less than gracefully on his back with you clinging to his chest. For a few blissful moments you lay there, painting for breath, sweat glistening on your skin. 

“Damn little one...heh, who knew you had it in ya!” he laughed, his chest bobbing as you lay on top of it. 

Still too spaced out to talk, you lay against him with a smile and lightly kissed his chest. 

“Hey uh… was this, really ok?” 

His question surprised you, almost as much as the uncertainty in his voice. 

“I mean… after everything that happened to you tonight. I’d hate to think you regretted it or somethin’... So, was this ok?” 

He gazed down at you, eyes wide with worry that he may have just crossed the line. How could a powerful Tengu be this damned cute? You shook your head with a smile before planting a sudden kiss on his lips. His voice was muffled against you, but he relaxed into it soon enough. 

“I’ll take that as a yes!” he giggled, his body relaxing beneath you once again. 

“Hey, does this mean we can do it again!?” 

His demeanour had switched to something akin to an excitable puppy, it was just too precious to deny. 

“Who am I to say no to such a noble Tengu?”