#again this is in no way an attack on n i love them sm it's embarrassing at times

[sevlawless]

okay so the n route has been bothering me ever since i played it and i needed to air my frustrations out as a way to cope i suppose

for reference my main detective who i use for n is felicity, but sometimes i also use arabella to test out some options i wouldn't normally pick and just to see how the romance works with a detective that isn't exactly that compatible with n. so when i first played, i used felicity and then later on when i was doing a deep dive into the romance and the plot, i was using arabella just to see if certain things held up yk! and lord how i wish it did LMFAO

just a little disclaimer that this is all just my opinion and i'm willing to listen to other points of view about this! and i do not mean any of what i say as a dig or to be hateful toward n, they are my favorite li in twc and the fact that i love their romance and their character so much is probably most if not all of the reason why their route in book 3 was so weird to me, and why i make the critiques that i do.

under the cut because this is a doozy and also book 3 spoilers

first of all the main thing in the demo chapters is that n gets mad if you try and fight the trappers bc they are so scared of losing you and like i GUESS i get it but this is literally our life now you're just gonna have to get used to it. and this wouldn't have even been an big issue for me if it was properly addressed! when i played using arabella i tried being mad, i tried staying mad, and it kept getting swept under the rug by the plot. like are we seriously not going to talk about this??? at all?????? and it seems very ooc for n NOT to say anything about it when you get a moment alone because why would they not address it, ESPECIALLY if your mc was still upset over it. AND ESPECIALLY IF YOU’RE IN A RELATIONSHIP LIKE- these things need to be discussed in order to grow as a couple and there needs to be healthy communication or else this is not going to work. like you're telling me we were living with unit bravo for WEEKS and this shit just never got brought up again?

this also ties into my next gripe- n's backstory. so, if you snooped in the demo they won't tell you anything, which okay. mc shouldn't have done that, sure, but n doesn't even give a reason as to why they're upset by that. obviously you can be like "well i think anyone would be upset if you delved into their past without their knowledge or permission" but YOU ARE IN A RELATIONSHIP WITH THIS PERSON WHY IS THERE NO COMMUNICATION OF FEELINGS. i would have appreciated that scene a hell of a lot more if n sat you down and was like "i'm upset that you did this, here's why," but all they do is get sad and then that's it. when i played as arabella i had her snoop AND get upset over the argument during the trapper fight, and n said something along the lines of "i know sometimes we regret doing things" as a reference to snooping AND the argument which??? just does NOT hold up at all and had me irritated as hell.

if you didn't snoop in the demo, n takes you to their room and shows you a picture of their family and talks about them and how his brother joined the navy and didn't come back (their brother was killed by vampires) and that's why they decided to join the navy, as a way to try and figure out what actually happened. this scene started off great, but it's cut short way too quickly because n drops the photo and the frame breaks. and then they basically just shoo you out. there's really not any option to comfort them, and the option that is there is not good enough. and it's not that n had to tell us EVERYTHING in that one scene, but it's more so the fact that it NEVER gets brought up again. your mc can't take a moment to bring it up and n sure as hell doesn't say anything else about it. which is so ?????? im sorry you supposedly love this person (im saying this for both mc and n) and yet neither of you address it again??? it makes no sense at all.

onto the research/combat scene… i've done the combat scene once so i can't really speak on that as much as the research one so. most of the research scene is fine aside from the fact if you're not in a relationship (which i did for one playthrough with felicity) n brings up bobby if you dated them which felt so bizarre but anyways. the option to realize you love n… i would love this IF the option where you tell n you love them actually mattered. LMFAO if you tell n you love them they literally just stare at you and then the sex scene pops up. like are you kidding me??? n would not just leave you hanging like that even if it was just to say that they don't feel that way yet. and the sex scene itself is… fine i suppose but it doesn't feel as intimate as it should be. there's little to no dialogue and it just feels so weird to read. like why would neither of you be saying anything?? not to mention the fact that you're literally OUTSIDE of the warehouse where any of ub could see you at any point it just feels wrong to have sex at that point at least in my opinion. and the talk after feels so short and weird i feel like both the detective and n would have more to say. and that moment is quickly brushed away by the plot.

i guess the next plot line is whether u told tina or verda or nobody about the supernatural. going into book 3 this was probably what i looked forward to the most and ofc it barely delivered. i liked seeing tina and n interact but that quickly turned sour for me, not because tina started rightfully bringing up how much mc has been through, but because n really does not do anything with that pov being voiced to them, which is so fucking ooc it pains me. when they go to talk to mc after their conversation there's no discussion just "i wanted to see you" okay but WHY did you? i would have taken a li pov of what tina relayed to them literally anything! and it's just another thing that gets swept under the rug because of the stupid ass plot.

another thing about the dinner that gets lost in the plot of book 3: tina/verda bringing up your li possibly drinking your blood and mc can react a number of different ways and i wish it had been talked about more than just in that moment 😭

the only scene that i genuinely enjoyed in all of n's route was after that building caves in on mc and you're back at the warehouse traumatized and bruised and defeated. n runs you a bath and if you pick that option helps you out of your clothes and then helps you settle into bed. i wish there had been more discussion of anything in that scene but mc was so out of it i was okay with no talking. and then redacted petname <3 the other thing i was most looking forward to! one thing i did dislike about this scene though was that we didn't really get a glimpse on how n was feeling yk usually mishka offers the li's pov on a scene and not having that made that moment not feel as rounded out.

the pool scene… first of all why did n get this one. like it would have made sense for m, hell even a! and again the scene felt so shallow and then the option to have sex. you're telling me your first time with n can be on a fucking pool table???? that is so not their vibe AT ALL and it feels so weird to even have that there. it was unnecessary as well as the other opportunity to have sex and i feel like mishka just put them in there as like fan service when who (in my opinion) genuinely wants this if they romance n and have them as their main route. i had hoped the first time n and mc have the opportunity to have sex it would be a more intimate setting because that's more fitting for them and my nate mc, felicity. but nope! and then the scene gets cut short because n has to go on patrol??? and again the sex scene itself … neither of them feel personable it's like a "one size fits all" type of approach and that just does not work if this is supposed to be interactive fiction where we create a personality for our mc's that cannot fit this specific mold mishka wants to put everyone in.

being invited to what might as well just be a fucking slave trade (i have many thoughts about this auction plotline as well but for now im discussing n's route) had me so confused because why would mishka even do that and then n's comment about the stationary? i need you to be fucking for real. the scene before you leave for the mission with n just felt so weird like we get it n is protective of mc but at this point it just felt like a hinderance which sucks because one of the things i love most about n is their deep care for mc and they just sounded like a broken record and it annoyed me so bad.

after all that, the scene when you come back and n is in tears confessing their love for mc i wanted to enjoy it i really did and i just could not upon replaying because it feels so unbelievably hollow. we have not discussed anything pertaining our relationship and when there are things that need to be discussed they are so underwhelming it's hard to even care. there are a handful of things n and mc both need to work on in order for this relationship to work and the fact that they're not being addressed makes it difficult for me to enjoy anything about this route. you can't even tell n you love them back for fuck's sake like hello.

a theme that i did not think was going to be as prominent as it was in this book but n contemplating mc turning into a vampire and AGAIN there wasn't ever really a discussion about this between mc and n and i feel like this will come to a head as the books progress but i don't think it fit into book 3 considering so many other things were being thrown at us.

all in all i truly desperately wanted to enjoy book 3 and enjoy being with n but i cannot when there are so many things ignored, sidelined, or just completely forgotten in order to push the plot forward.

[tbaluver]

hi! i love how in character you write for l&ds, it's so nice whenever i see a new post from u☺️ i'd like to request how the l&ds men would react if they came too early and u reassuring them since that's the hottest thing ever; to imagine how they need u sm that they can't even hold back

thank u and have a wonderful day cutie <3

When They Finish First- The Love And DeepSpace Men

parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader genre: 18+, suggestive content, MDNI, filthy filthy smut, smut with no plot a/n: hihi anonnie! it makes me so happy to hear you guys like seeing me post ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡ in my opinion i think they’re all the type to prefer finishing after you when he knows you’re completely satisfied so i just added the build up story to it and i hope that’s okay ! i hope you enjoy and i hope you have a wonder day too luv (∩˃o˂∩)♡ any likes and reblogs are always appreciated! enjoy!

⋆｡‧˚ʚ♡ɞ˚‧｡⋆

Xavier:

The plush of your ass was pressed tightly against his hardened shaft. His cock rested between your cheeks before looking for your hole again. A cuddle session that you two normally have developed into something so filthy. “so….so good….” He pants in your ear as his hands are planted on your hips to position his cock back into your core.

As you clench down on him, his pace begins to move faster, stronger, and needier. The twitch of his cock felt so good that it had your messy hole sob uncontrollably around him. Xavier who usually has remarkable endurance, still has his weaknesses—one of which is you. It wasn’t long for him to spill his orgasm inside of you. He gradually slows his pace before coming to a stop. “’m sorry…” He murmurs softly, his head resting against the nape of your neck as he wraps his arms around your waist. "I didn't mean to be so greedy...." He says softly, pressing his head deeper into the nape of your neck to hide the flush of embarrassment on his face.

You smile softly, reaching out to find his hand resting on your waist before giving it a gentle squeeze. "t's okay Xavier, as long as you feel good." You say, turning your head slightly to give him a reassuring gentle kiss on the cheek.

His tip sensitive and red when he pulls out, covered in a beautiful shine. You feel the weight of the bed shift as he climbs on top of you, settling himself in between your legs. “I want you to feel good too.” He says with a gaze of a mix of determination and arousal.

Zayne:

You spread your legs over him and straddled his lap. You felt his hardened cock against your belly and he looked at you in adoration before attacking your hardened nipples with his mouth. You throw your head back, moaning as you wrap your arm around him for support. The way he’d move his lips against them and soak them with his spit and the way he’d bite them gently, leaving small marks on you. The way he suctions his lips around your nipples and wraps his tongue around them like a man starved. He moans into your breasts while massaging the other one.

He grabs you by the waist and flipped you over so you were the one on your back. With no hesitation, he opens your legs wide and open to expose your soaking wet entrance. 

He grabs his cock and begins tracing it up and down your slit to gather some of your natural lubricant. You close your eyes and let your body absorb every inch of him  that was slowly moving in and out of you.

He buries himself into you, balls deep as your legs wrap around his waist. His girth expands in every part of your walls voluntarily. He moves to nestle more comfortably on top of you, resting his face in the crook of your neck before speeding up his pace. You were so hot and squishy inside, digging his hips deeper and slightly wiggling them to ravish the reactions of your body. He inserts himself deeper and deeper into you and pulls out just a little every time. He groaned into your ear as he felt you clench around him and he didn’t know if it was the excitement or how deep he was in you to feel this good. You moan and scratch his back and he completely loses himself as his thrusts become more slower and fills you up with his load. He avoids meeting your gaze, hiding in the crook of your neck as his ears flush red with embarrassment.

“I’m sorry… I don’t know what came over me.” He mumbles in your ear. He relaxes once he feels your hand gently thread through his hair in reassurance. "You're okay Zayne, 'm promise. Plus you losing control like that was really hot."

Once he sits back up, you notice the faint blush on his ears and you can’t help but let out a soft laugh. He pulls out of you, his length glistening from your soaked cunt before he settles himself between your legs to go down on you.

"Please, allow me to make it right."

Rafayel:

His eyes clenched shut as hot pants escaped from his pretty mouth. His hands rest on your hips to keep you steady as you slowly sink further down on his cock. His mind fogging up with you as he feels your warm and dripping cunt wrapped around his cock so perfectly. The way you're on top of him, your pretty little cunt squeezing his cock and rolling your hips that feels like heaven. The way you're just getting off from just him alone.

A broken gasp leaves his lungs, taking everything you give him as you begin to bounce yourself up and down on his lap. The perfect pretty picture he has in front of him and the sounds of your pretty pussy surrounding his cock in your juices as you ride him only fuels his pleasure.

“f-fuck-hah- s’good,” He babbles, eyes rolling back as you tremble on top of him. Your walls clenching around his cock as you grind down, the thick head of his cock rubbing your sweet spot so perfectly and making you shiver in response. You whine when you feel his cock twitch inside of you as he cums in hot spurts. A faint pink blush spreads across his face as he watches you slow your pace on him before completely halting your movements. “Raf…” You gently cup his cheeks but he refuses to meet your gaze. “Raf….did you like it that much….?”

He huffs, pouting as he wraps his arms around you. “Obviously,”

He presses closer into your touch, gradually meeting your gaze. "It's okay Raf," you say softly. "Losing yourself like that for me? It was actually really attractive." You offer a warm, reassuring smile before leaning in to gently kiss his lips.

With no warning whatsoever, he flips you over so you’re now on your back and he was on top of you. “Now let me see you lose yourself for me.” He says, pressing wet kisses lower and lower on your body.

Sylus:

He snatches your wrists into his palm and drags them above your head as he thrusts himself back into your soaking cunt. He pants hard, enjoying your soft and hot folds tightening around him. The thought of filling you up and coating your insides with his white juices, fueling his need for you more. The way he stretched your cunt was overwhelming, making you feel so full as he pressed in further deeper. You mewled as the large veins on his length rubbed against your walls so perfectly.

His hips rutted into you faster as praises spilled from his lips. “You look so good, baby” He praises again, each hard thrust leaving you breathless. "Feel so good too-hah...."

It didn’t take long and with a few more rough thrusts, he painted your walls white with his cum. You whimper as you feel the warm juices fill you up. "Sy...did you....?"

He loosens his grip on your wrists and pulls himself out of you with a groan, your body whining from the loss of his connection. “I’m sorry sweetie, I couldn’t resist.” He leans back and looks over your body, a smirk curving on his lips as he takes in the sight of you. “You just felt too good.” You playfully roll your eyes as he gently rubs your thigh. "It's okay Sy, it was attractive to see you not hold back."

A mischievous smirk appears on his face as his other hand was unable to resist rubbing teasing circles around your puffy clit. Amused from your reaction, he pumps his cock that was already hardening again.

“We’re not done here yet princess. And don't hold back on me.”

[hannieehaee]

Anything with a dom joshua please 🛐 thank you sm I love your work!!!

18+ / mdi

content: softdom!joshua, sub!reader, smut, afab reader, usage of a vibrator, fingering, penetrative sex, etc.

wc: 1023

a/n: thank u so much!!! so sorry this took so long</3 im not good at writing doms so this is mostly softdom!joshua<3

masterlist

"you asked for this, baby. remember?", joshua breathed down your neck as his hands continued their attack on your cunt.

"but ... joshie, i-"

"shh," he hushed you, "didn't ask you to speak, did i? i'm gonna keep playing with you until i have my fill. do you understand?", he talked down at you.

nodding, you sniffled, leaning back into his shoulder as he pressed the vibrator deeper into you, his other hand occupied by meanly pulling at your nipples.

his lips would occasionally suck at your neck, at other times whispering mean praise into your ears.

"such a good girl for me, hmm? letting me make her cum til she cries," he praised with a nibble to your lobe.

after your third orgasm denial, joshua had promised that he'd finally make you cum, but only under the condition you stayed quiet and let him do whatever he wanted. along with this, he'd promised to fuck you to sleep if you behaved well enough for his liking.

wanting nothing more than to cum, you followed his instructions. however, you were unable to hold back a few whines any time he pulled the vibrator away to deny you of yet another orgasm. the worst part of all was how much you could tell he was enjoying this. he was mean in the way he mocked you and talked down at you any time he spotted a brand new tear slide down your eye.

when you whined again, he turned up the volume of the vibrator, cooing at you when you began hiccuping short gasps at the stimulation. his hand went back up to play with your tits, laughing meanly any time he saw your eyes roll back at the pleasure.

suddenly, he decided to be a little extra mean (more than he had already been), holding the vibrator right on your clit whilst his fingers entered you with no warning, shooting them in and out of you with aggressive precision.

unable to hold back at the impact, you screamed out his name, hips attempting to move in sync with his own movements but being stopped by the hold of his hand on your hips.

"stay still," he commanded, "you'll cum, okay, baby? you're going to stay still and cum for me," he whispered in your ear.

true to his word, he continued his actions, attacking you with intense stimulation that had you crying out his name and cumming on his fingers and staining the vibrator he'd been holding against your cunt.

as mean as he was, he kept the vibrator pressed against you throughout your orgasm, refusing to pull away even as you silently attempted to move away from the stimulation. your pleas for him to stop were met with denials as he tsk'd at you patronizingly.

"s-shua, i cant-"

"i need to get you ready for me, baby. i still need to fuck you, did you forget?", he said with a sickeningly sweet tone.

upon removing his fingers and vibrator away, he repositioned you without warning, opening your legs and grabbing his cock to run up and down your sensitive folds. with a groan, he circled his tip on your clit, drawing cries out of you. cries that only drew him even more drunk in you.

requiring no warning, he entered you, burying his face in the crook of your neck at the pleasure.

"baby ... so fucking wet, shit. made you cum already but you're still this tight? this wet? what a slutty pussy ..." he trailed off, fucking into you mindlessly.

you babbled in response, so sensitive yet so needy for more. no words could leave your mouth at how intensely he was fucking into you with so little warning. you'd had no time to recover, making the experience painfully pleasurable.

nails dug into his back, leaving red marks that would likely stay there for days. but you knew joshua liked it. you knew he enjoyed any evidence left behind from any time he'd fuck you into the bed. his groans into your neck were also proof of how much he loved breaking you and turning you into a mumbling mess under him.

"gonna mold this pussy just for me ... so fucking perfect ..." he continued to grunt into your ear, slapping his hips into your ass, "keep doing that, fuck ... mark me."

"joshie, fuck, joshue!", you screamed out at a particularly harsh thrust, tears beginning to form at your eyes.

he must've felt the wetness trail down to his own skin, ungluing himself from your neck and staring down at you in feigned worry.

"oh, baby ... crying? my cock's making you cry?," he coo'd, "think my crybaby can cum with me? hmm? gonna make a mess again?", he taunted, practically growling his last words before lifting up your legs and hammering into you aggressively.

screaming out his name, you came without warning, not even aware of how close you'd been. it had all happened so quickly and so intensely, leaving you a whining mess as you creamed all over his cock.

your orgasm did not prevent joshua from halting his movements, continuing to seek his pleasure from you at an inhuman pace.

"gonna fill you up, baby, shit ... and you're gonna take it all for me, okay? my pretty crybaby," he grunted in between heavy breaths. his end was clearly near.

despite your sensitivity, you wanted nothing more than for him to stuff you full. you felt a sense of pride invade you at knowing your cunt could turn him into a mindless mess that needed to be buried as deep in you as physically possible.

"c-cumming! shit, fuck .... so fucking t-tight," he stammered, stilling as he allowed himself to empty himself out into you, face contorting in pleasure.

he took a few moments buried deep inside you as he regained his breath, nuzzling into your skin while attempting to calm himself down. your fingers ran up and down the scars forming on his back, making him hiss and nibble at you in retaliation.

"was that too much?", he finally spoke, still out of breath.

"perfect," was all you managed to voice, still spent.

[hanniesluvr]

wake up, sunshine | c.sc

somno + breeding kink with seungcheol

pairing: choi seungcheol x reader

genre: smut, est. relationship

wc: ~1.2k (again… not proofread)

synopsis: morning sex w seungcheol and yall lowkey want babies but you also don’t (rn).

!other kinktober fics!

a/n: 11am on the due date… HELP you guys please i know this is MID as FUCK!! i have zero motivation right now for this, but i wanted to put something out. i’ll come back one day w a better cheol fic to make up for this tiny thing ): also there’s a lot of “fuck”s in this idk… what happened. oh and one last thing…

SM SUPPORTS BULLYING!

it was just past 7am. the crisp fall breeze whispered through the bedroom window, nipping seungcheol on his shoulder. his eyes fluttered open as he rolled over onto his back. he stared at the ceiling for a couple seconds before looking to his right side where you were still lying fast asleep. a soft smile crept onto his face as he watched your peaceful form rise and fall with each breath. he reached his arm out to tuck your hair that had fallen in your face, behind your ear. he shifted onto his side to admire you more comfortably, never growing bored of this hobby. uninterrupted, getting to stare at the beauty in front of him that he was lucky enough to call “mine”.

unless you had an early shift, seungcheol was always awake before you. always exhausted from work, you loved to milk your sleep for all it was worth, whereas your boyfriend would prefer to start his days early. you’d normally wake up an hour after him to the smell of bacon permeating the air in your room.

however, this morning was different.

“fuck,” he mumbled under his breath, nowhere near loud enough to wake you. something about the way your nose had a slight pink tint from the open window, the way your hair was draped beautifully behind you, and the way he could catch a glimpse of your chest down the top of the comforter had his cock trying to break free from his boxers. you looked… devine. in your sleep, you rolled onto your back, and seungcheol took it as an opportunity to get some early breakfast.

he couldn’t help himself. he ducked under the covers, moving himself in between your legs. even in pitch blackness, he knew your body like the back of his hand. he effortlessly moved his arms under your thighs, lifting them over his shoulders, holding them tightly. he gave your inner thighs a couple soft kisses before kitten licking your clit. gentle enough to not startle you, but the feeling so blissful nonetheless, you start shifting your hips slightly under his hold. seungcheol smiled against your core before using an arm to lift the comforter up to see your angelic face already looking down at him. “wake up, sunshine,” he cooed before taking your clit into his mouth, still maintaining eye contact. you gasped at the sudden warmth, in contrast to your now cold, exposed skin. “ch-cheol, what’re you doing?” you giggled out. you don’t even remember falling asleep fully naked but, whatever. you’re currently glad you did.

“having an appetizer before breakfast,” he stated very matter of fact. “i woke up extra hungry, i guess,” he shrugged with a tender smile on his face.

you giggled again before running your fingers through his hair, tugging lightly on the strands to hint that you wanted his face up here with yours, and (even tho his tongue was magic) something else between your legs. your boyfriend couldn’t help his sweet nature, though. as he crawled on top of you, eyes locked on yours, he whispered, “you have the prettiest eyes baby,” before attacking your lips with his. when he pulled away you smiled, “imagine if we made little me’s… ya know… my eyes and stuff…” he chuckled at your flushed cheeks and flustered demeanor. were you trying sweet talk him? dirty talk him? your half-asleep brain had no idea, but he knew exactly what you were getting at.

he hummed before kissing your forehead, then your cheek, then your jaw, and then your neck... he lingered there, leaving tender, wet kisses on your skin. the softness of it all slowly sending you back off into your dreams. “cheol…” you whispered, almost completely asleep. seungcheol pulled away from your neck, once again hovering over you. he smiled at your sleepy face. knowing that he was soothing your body so well that he’d sent you back to sleep was making his cock swell up with even more need. he loved taking care of you in every way. he lived for it. he craved your happiness. when you were satisfied, so was he.

he reached his hand down to grab his cock from his boxers, inhaling sharply at the contact. he rubbed his tip lightly up and down your entrance, smearing a mix of your slick and his spit all over your cunt. he pushed himself inside of you with a low, quiet groan in hopes to not disturb you too much. you squirmed a bit, definitely not asleep, but still too tired and relaxed to open your eyes. “mmmph cheol…”

seungcheol sluggishly started thrusting in and out of you, his hand moving up to cup your face. “are you awake yet, sunshine?” he breathed. “uh uh,” you whimpered, smiling softly with your eyes still closed. “gotta fuck you awake then hm?” he smirked before picking up his pace. you moaned out at his increased determination to get you both off out of nowhere. in no time, seungcheol’s hips were snapping into yours and he was demanding you to look him in the eyes as he wrecked you from the inside out. his voice started to raise in pitch. “do you feel me in there, love? f-feel me all in your stomach hm? god~ -m gonna fill you up with my cum yeah?” he panted, resting his forehead on yours. “y-yes p-please cheol, please… breed me” you pleaded, fully awake at this point. seungcheol’s hips stuttered. he had to stop himself. “fuuuck,” he growled at your words. he started thrusting in and out of you again, far more brutal than before. “such a good girl. so g-good begging for me to breed you huh? p-pump you full of my cum? fuck~” he panted out, chasing his high. you were right behind him, the knot in your tummy ready to snap at any moment. “ch-cheol i’m gonna cum,” you cried out, screwing your eyes shut, arching your back. you crying his name, pressing your tits up against him… he was done for. “fuck~” he moaned out pushing his cock all the way inside you, filling you up completely.

morning showers weren’t your thing, but you had no choice this morning. you and cheol were both a mess.

“so,” cheol started from inside the kitchen, grabbing you a plate of food. your eyes admiringly watching him cross over to the dining table where you were. “you want babies hm?” he asked in a teasing tone. you chuckled grabbing the plate from him, then he sat with his. “i mean yeah one day… not now, though,” you poked at a piece of scrambled egg with your fork before bringing it to your mouth. “that’s too bad..” cheol jokingly sighed. “too bad?” you raised an eyebrow. “yeah… i don’t know i got like… a warm fuzzy feeling over the thought of little yous running around.” you beamed at his words. “that’s called a paternal instinct,” you giggled, then you continued, “and i’m glad you have one.” you reached over the table patting him on his head.

tag list: @skzooluvr @jenoslutie @map0fthes0ul7 @unlikelysublimekryptonite @goblynnrockz @actuallynarii @glttrlix @iluvhoshi

[ja3yun]

I'm a Virgin, Not a Murderer | CH.2: Saturn and Uranus

virgin!heeseung x sex worker!reader warnings: smut (mdni), oral (m.rec), slight throat fucking, whiney heeseung, strip club and dances, mentions of alcohol and anxiety, anything else lmk! wc: 18.8k ch.2 synopsis: with you and heeseung fleeing the scene of your accidental crime, you weave through the trials of finding safety and making some cash, leading you straight to saturn strip club. a/n: hi! thank you so so much for the love and support on the first chapter <3 i'm sorry if it seems slow but it picks up the pace in the following chapters so please stick with it! i love this series sm and i am so appreciative of each and every one of you! as always, reblogs, likes, comments, and feedback are all welcome

chapter 1 | masterlist | chapter 3

Your precious car begins to slow down despite your foot firmly pressed on the pedal, causing you to glance at the dashboard quizzically. The needle on the fuel gauge hovers perilously close to empty, a sight that sends a jolt of anxiety through you. 

There’s no way it has already run out of petrol, you only filled it up two days ago; then again, you have been driving for the better part of six hours down winding roads. You start to wonder if perhaps you were overly optimistic about that refuelling. There also might be a small, tiny chance that you only filled it up halfway because you ran out of money for an entire tank.

As these thoughts race through your mind, the car gives a tired shudder. The engine's steady hum falters, replaced by a series of splutters. The tail of your vehicle emits a loud, desperate noise, gasping for something to quench its thirst. You turn just in time to see a thin, ominous layer of black smoke drifting from the exhaust pipe.

Gripping the steering wheel tighter, your knuckles turn white as you scan the deserted road ahead for any sign of a petrol station. The vast, empty stretch of asphalt seems to mock your predicament. Panic sets in as you realise the gravity of the situation. The distant horizon offers no solace, just an unending ribbon of road under the setting sun.

“Fuck!” you exclaim, slamming your palm harshly on the steering wheel as the car comes to a halt.

Heeseung twists his head to look at your disgruntled expression before noticing the puff of smoke in his peripheral vision, his eyes widening in fear. The only time he had seen a car fog up like this was when Jongseong decided to do skids in the Tesco car park at 3am after too many Red Bulls and exam stress. The next day, his friend had to replace every tyre and pay a fine after being caught on CCTV.

This consequence might be drastically worse.

“We could phone AA. They can pick us up or fill the tank,” he suggests, as if he can magically conjure a phone booth in front of you.

Huffing, you suppress the silent rage coursing through you due to the recent life events. You sit back, gripping the wheel tightly. “Heeseung,” you begin, keeping your voice slow and steady, “you do realise there is a dead body in the hotel room that has probably been found by now, and they will be looking for us!”

You don’t mean to get agitated with the timid boy, but the gravity of the situation is pushing you to the edge. You don’t even want to think about the scene back at the hotel or who the poor person that found your attacker would be. If it was Kat at reception, she definitely would have already called the police, given a character description, and probably found a way to help them locate your National Insurance number. She always did hate your guts, and it would be a joyous occasion for her to watch your demise unfold with her playing a key part in it.

You grab a bobble from the glove compartment and pull your hair back into a ponytail, closing your eyes briefly as you try to devise a plan. The tension in the car is palpable, a mix of fear and frustration hanging in the air. "I'll walk and see if there's a petrol station nearby," you say, flicking two framing pieces of hair out and holding your hands out to Heeseung. "Can I get some of the money you brought?"

Heeseung looks at you with arched brows. "You don’t have any?" he asks incredulously. It’s not like he expected you to be a billionaire, but with thousands of horny men and a girl as gorgeous as you, he figured you had more than enough cash.

If only he knew you were eating out-of-date beans two weeks ago and that your water was shut off because you couldn’t pay the bill. The reality of your life is far removed from the glamorous facade you sometimes project.

"I only carry £20 with me in case a client tries to rob me. I can't ever be too careful," you explain, understanding the irony in your attempt at safety when you were two seconds away from meeting the man in white at the pearly gates not too long ago.

Heeseung doesn’t fully grasp your logic, but he also isn’t a sex worker, so he trusts your judgement. "Okay, let me grab my..." he begins to say, nodding in agreement and patting his chest in search of his jacket pocket. His eyes bulge, and his heart sinks like a stone in water.

Frantically, he searches his body, as if this would magically make his brown jacket appear. Sweat from his terror seeps from his pores as he chants a few tiny 'fucks', looking around your car with panicked eyes. His breaths become shallow, and you can see the fear creeping into his features.

"What’s wrong?" you ask calmly, not matching his urgent state. Your voice is steady, a stark contrast to the chaos bubbling beneath the surface.

He turns to you slowly, swallowing thickly. He doesn’t know how to tell you the unfortunate information he has just realised, so he stays silent for a moment, leaving you to wonder in the tension-filled car.

“What is it? Just tell me.”

"I...I left my jacket in the hotel room."

"Oh, for fuck's sake, Heeseung!" you shout, throwing your hands up in the air to punctuate your disappointment in his forgetfulness. You can’t believe how stupid he is considering you told him to grab his things. When you said that, you meant everything.

Heeseung shoulders the blame but gets defensive at your attitude towards his blunder. "I’m sorry! It’s not every day I kill a man and have to flee with a prostitute, okay? I wasn’t thinking," he exclaims, his voice cracking with stress. He can feel the weight of the situation pressing down on him, making his hands tremble slightly.

"Oh, you think I go around whacking my clients on the regular?" you argue back, eyes burning with a dangerous fury. The absurdity of the situation, coupled with your rising panic, makes your temper flare. 

"Well-" he starts but cuts himself off because he doesn’t know how to argue with you. His eyes drop, and he lets out a deep sigh, running his hands through his hair in frustration.“My ID is in the pocket, Y/N. They’ll find me for sure…”

Looking at him, you suddenly wince in sympathy. If the cameras and Kat didn’t rat him out to the authorities, his ID certainly would. The sheer panic on his face is a reminder of how dire your situation truly is. 

You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. "We need a plan," you say, your voice steadier now. “We need to walk, it's nearly 9pm and we can’t be out here like sitting ducks.”

“We’ll be walking all night, Y/N. I can’t do this, I can’t…I have an exam on Monday,” he whines, chest heaving up and down as he puts himself in a state of panic by thinking about the final assignments of his academic career - much to your dismay. His eyes dart around frantically as if looking for an escape route that isn’t there.

Out of all the things for him to worry about, his exam should not be taking priority. “Heeseung, that is the least of your concern. We killed a man, me and you - we can’t go back. What part of that do you not fucking understand? Do you seriously think I would be sitting in a dead car with you in the middle of fuck knows where if I could just go back to my flat and move on with my life?”

Your anger is flaring through your nostrils, each breath you take feeling like it’s stoking a fire inside you. The reality of the consequences to your predicament crashes over you in waves.

Heeseung’s face pales, and you can see him physically shrink back, his shoulders hunching as he tries to make himself smaller. He looks at you with wide, scared eyes, clearly cowed by your outburst. “I’m sorry,” he mutters, almost inaudibly, his voice cracking under the weight of his fear and guilt.

You take a moment to look at him and your heart breaks. He never asked for this, the same as you didn’t, so you shouldn’t be yelling at him as if this is all his fault, or that his feelings and worries are any less valid than your own, even if they are misplaced. He came to you looking to lose his virginity, not gain trauma and a criminal record - and that’s exactly what he got all because he saved you.

Closing your eyes, you rub your temples, trying to gather your thoughts. The night is closing in around you, the impending darkness feeling suffocating. The horizon is a blur of shadows, with the last traces of daylight fading into an oppressive twilight. You can’t afford to waste time arguing. You need to move, and you need to move now.

Pondering for a while, you realise your current state of dress isn’t helping the situation. Sitting in nothing but a robe with no bra and only lace panties underneath isn’t practical for a night trek, let alone safe. The robe, which barely provides any warmth or coverage, feels utterly inadequate against the encroaching chill. You glance at Heeseung, who’s still looking down, avoiding your gaze, biting the skin from his lip in anxiety.

“Heeseung,” you say more gently, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice. “Can I borrow your shirt?”

He looks up, confusion clouding his eyes for a moment before he registers your request. “Yeah, sure, anything,” he says, his voice tinged with desperation and a need to atone for his earlier mistake. He hurriedly rids himself of his plaid shirt, almost fumbling in his haste, and hands it over to you. His movements are frantic, a physical manifestation of his internal turmoil.

Even the way he says "anything" makes the guilt suppress the anger towards him. The boy is so sweet and gentle, you never knew someone like him could ever exist, not in this grotty city anyway. 

You take your robe off, revealing your erect nipples to him once again, this time in a much less sexually charged atmosphere. The night air feels like icy fingers brushing against your skin, making you shiver involuntarily. With the sun disappearing to let the moon say hello, you rush to get the shirt on, shielding yourself from the settling cold. The plaid shirt, still warm from Heeseung's body heat, provides a semblance of comfort and much needed warmth amidst the chaos.

As you’re getting dressed in Heeseung’s shirt, he tries his best not to look at you and give you even a shred of privacy. He might have seen them earlier but that does not mean you consent to him catching a swatch right now. His gaze remains fixed on the ceiling of the car, his hands clenching and unclenching as he battles with his own thoughts.

But god, he can imagine them now, how perfect and delicious they looked, like something out of his wildest fantasies, the feeling of them cupped in his hands and how squishy they felt. Despite his efforts to maintain some decorum, the images linger in his mind, a thought he desperately tries to push aside. He’s biting the inside of his cheek and shuffling in his seat to adjust the twitch in his balls, he tries to focus on anything else, the guilt gnawing at him.

Once dressed, you notice how Heeseung’s shirt, though oversized, fits snugly enough to offer some semblance of modesty. The fabric, soft and slightly worn, smells faintly of him - a mix of soap and something uniquely his. 

“Heeseung, we need to keep moving,” you say, your voice firm but gentle. He nods, swallowing hard but still avoiding your gaze. You can see him fidgeting in his seat, his hand tugging at the zipper of his jeans, seeking relief from the friction.

Stifling a laugh, grateful for the distraction, you snap your fingers playfully. “I know you have a bad case of blue balls, but we need to focus.”

Heeseung’s face turns a vivid shade of red as his eyes widen in shock, his mouth opening and closing without a sound. He can’t believe you noticed him fiddling with his trousers to alleviate the discomfort. Yet, just like you, he welcomes the distraction, though he would have preferred it to come from something less embarrassing.

“We need to ditch this car and find a motel or something,” you suggest determinedly, scanning the deserted road for any signs of life or guidance but there’s nothing but darkness.

You swing open the driver’s door and step onto the slightly damp grass, cringing internally at the cold, wet sensation between your bare toes as you circle around to the boot to rummage through your belongings. You always keep a bag of spare work clothes and some makeup in there for emergencies. In hindsight, you really should have packed proper clothes and not a tiny set of lingerie, but for now, Heeseung’s shirt paired with your six-inch heels will have to do.

As you slam the boot shut, you take a moment to look at your car, preparing yourself to say goodbye. This trusty vehicle has taken you across the country, creating memories filled with both joy and sorrow, all of which have shaped who you are today. This is just another memory to add to the collection, no matter how unpleasant.

You glance at your gleaming custom registration plate, panic rising within you. It’s a beacon, a glaring signal that could lead anyone straight to you. If they’re searching for you, it won’t take them long to find you with a plate like that. Stroking the hood of the car, you pout. “I’m so sorry for this, baby,” you whisper lovingly to the motor before bringing your stiletto down with a harsh crash against the metal. The pain shoots up your leg, but it’s the crack in your heart that hurts the most. You never imagined you’d have to hurt your precious car, let alone abandon it.

Heeseung hears the commotion and scrambles out, his eyes wide with alarm. He sees you attacking the back of the car, unaware of your intentions. Your face is flushed with exertion as you put all your might into battering the plate off its screws. Strands of hair fall out of your ponytail, which you angrily huff away. Despite himself, Heeseung finds this display of dominance strangely attractive. The way you assert control over the metal makes him wonder how you would have treated him if things had gone to plan.

The sight of your heels jamming into the rear only fuels his thoughts further. His mind races with images of you dominating a man, your heel tearing into his flesh like extinguishing a cigarette. The picture causes an ache in Heeseung’s groyne, making him shuffle uncomfortably. This feeling is something he’ll have to explore; perhaps once he gets past his virginity, he can figure out his kinks.

If he ever does lose it, that is.

“W-what are you doing?” he asks shyly, scared to break your concentration.

Huffing, you look up at him, seeing the bewilderment in his eyes. You can’t blame him, you must look deranged like a bull charging at a red flag. “I’m breaking these off so it buys us some time, just in case a cop car comes by,” you explain, wiping sweat from your brow. If you were cold before, you certainly aren’t now.

He watches you soothe your aching leg, his concern genuine and heartfelt. “You need to be careful, Y/N. You could hurt your ankle,” he states, his voice filled with worry.

You’re about to snap at him, but his soft expression and worried eyes make you relent. Taking a deep breath, you calm yourself before replying. “Can you get the one at the front, please?” Your voice is steady, though the aggression of your kick shows you’re not in the mood for further discussion. Heeseung nods and heads to the front of the car, obediently following your instructions.

Heeseung, slightly shaky but determined, crouches down to work on the front plate. You watch him, grateful for his cooperation despite the circumstances. The dim light from the casting moon creates long shadows, and the quiet night amplifies every sound: the rustle of leaves, the distant call of an owl, the metallic clinks as Heeseung fumbles with the screws. The whole scene feels surreal, as if you're in a suspenseful film.

Returning to the back of the car, you take a deep breath and assess the damage. The number plate is now hanging by one screw, bent and battered but still attached. You give it another firm kick, wincing as the stiletto heel digs into the metal. With a final tug, the plate comes off, and you toss it into the nearby bushes, hoping it will be concealed well enough to buy you some time.

“Heeseung, how’s it going up there?” you call out, trying to mask the urgency in your voice.

“Almost done,” he replies, his voice strained. A few moments later, he triumphantly holds up the front plate, looking to you for approval. You nod, giving him a small, encouraging smile. He seems so happy, like he just won a month of free rental at BlockBuster. 

This is the first time you’ve seen him smile and it melts your heart, his toothy grin and smile lines accentuating the sun that seems to radiate from his face. He probably smiled like that all the time before all of this, you think to yourself with a pang of remorse.

Following your lead, he tosses it into the high bushes, listening to the rustling leaves as the metal cascades down the intertwined branches. He wipes the fallen paint and dust from his hands on his dark jeans and moves to the back of the car to reach you, his happiness dims a little as he sees you hobble slightly.

Before you can place the coveted bag on your shoulder, Heeseung clasps his big hand around the strap and steals it from you, wrapping it around his neck and shoulder so it can swing idly under his arm. You don’t get to protest at his snatching because he’s already walking forward, stirring up his energy for the long walk ahead.

_____

You haven’t seen a single inch of light or hope in the past two hours of walking along the countryside. The skies, once adorned with a pale twilight, have now succumbed to the inky darkness of night. The narrow dirt path stretches endlessly before you, flanked by skeletal trees and picked-apart bushes. The cold, relentless and unforgiving, seeps into your bones, making each step more laborious than the last. The only sound accompanying your journey is the rhythmic crunch of gravel underfoot and the occasional rustle of unseen creatures.

Your soles are burning, a searing pain that intensifies with each agonising step. The God-forsaken heels feel like instruments of torture, biting into your feet and reducing your stride to a painful shuffle. Every uneven stone and hidden root sends jolts of agony through your body, making you wince involuntarily. The cold, having long breached the feeble barriers of Heeseung’s shirt, wraps around you like a cruel, invisible shroud.

Hunger gnaws at your insides, a relentless beast that roars louder with each passing minute. Your stomach grumbles an angry, persistent sound that echoes through the stillness. You're convinced Heeseung can hear it.

And he does. 

Heeseung, walking beside you, casts worried glances in your direction. The concern in his eyes is unmistakable, a silent testament to his awareness of your suffering. He can see the pain etched across your face, the way your lips are pressed into a thin line of determination despite the evident exhaustion.

His gaze drops to your feet, noticing how you wince with every step. Your once resolute stride is now reduced to a limping hobble, the back of your shoes digging mercilessly into your sore, blistered skin. Your feet, barely able to withstand the pressure, threaten to give out beneath you. The muscles in your legs tremble with fatigue, each step a monumental effort that pushes you closer to your breaking point.

Heeseung's concern manifests in his actions; he slows his pace to match your faltering steps, offering a steadying hand when you stumble over an unseen obstacle. His presence is a small comfort, a reminder that you are not alone in this desolate landscape. His words, though few, are gentle and encouraging, urging you to hold on just a little longer.

Hating the sight of you in pain, Heeseung places a timid hand on your shoulder, causing you to pause in your steps. “Maybe you should take those off?” he suggests, eyes pointed down to your bruised feet.

“And walk along the British countryside that has needles and shit lying around?” you ask rhetorically, a bite in your voice due to the irritation you’re being overstimulated by, “Unless you want to swap, these heels are staying on.”

Despite only knowing you a few hours, he has grasped that you are a stubborn and independent woman who seldom takes help from those around her. You can hold your own against the world, not a single crutch to lean on; when Heeseung had offered you a piggyback a few miles back, you snapped at him, telling him that as much as you appreciate the gesture, you are not a child in need of comfort.

He never offered again.

That’s why even as he suggests a solution to your problem, he does it with a shaky voice. He has always been scared of women in general, so having to navigate around an angry and short-tempered one who is also hungry is something he is having a problem with.

“Look, I’m fine, Heeseung. Really, just st-”

Your sentence is interrupted by the distant sound of an engine. Both your and Heeseung’s eyes expand at the beautiful noise, each of you having similar thoughts that this could be your get out of jail free card. The sound grows louder, cutting through the oppressive silence of the night like a beacon of hope. Your heart leaps, adrenaline surging through your veins as the possibility of escape becomes tantalisingly real.

Quickly thinking, you unbutton the shirt that covers your most valuable assets in a situation like this and scoop your tits up slightly, to give you a more voluptuous look. You whip the bobble out from your hair and ruffle it to a bouncy state. The cold air hits your exposed skin, sending a shiver down your spine, but you ignore the discomfort, focusing instead on the potential saviour approaching.

Heeseung watches you, his eyes wide with a mixture of astonishment and anxiety. His mouth opens as if to protest, but no words come out. He’s torn between his instinct to protect and his hope that your plan might actually work. But you’re putting yourself in more danger by trying to lure the driver in with your body, and he can’t face whacking another person to ensure your safety.

“Y/N, what are you doing? People don’t do this anymore, not since the 70s,” he argues softly, trying to stand in your way as the headlights illuminate the dark road you walk on.

Pushing him to the side, you shake your head, plastering on a smile and sticking your thumb out. “Desperate times call for desperate measures, Heeseung. We need a lift and I’m making sure we get it,” you retort.

Granted, you have never hitchhiked in your life and the only reason you have an inch of knowledge on how to do this is through movies, some of which end up as well as Heeseung is imagining, but there are two of you and if today has taught you anything, you make a great team when it comes to defending yourself.

The vehicle comes into view, an old pickup truck, its paint chipped and weathered. It slows as it approaches, and for a brief moment, you hold your breath, praying that the driver will stop. With one final push attempt, you jump slightly, flailing your arms around as your bare breasts bounce freely under the shirt. If it doesn’t catch the driver's attention, it quickly catches Heeseung’s, who diverts his eyes up to the starry sky.

Luckily, your tits seem to work and the car pulls up beside you both, the engine purring softly and the exhaust pipe offering you a tiny blanket of warmth. The window rolls down to reveal a man, roughly your age or possibly younger, licking his lips and eyeing you up and down.

“Need a lift?” he asks casually, not bothering to even look at your face.

And Heeseung said it wouldn’t work.

“Yes, please!” you giggle, shifting into one of your many work personas, hiding the irritation and pain that you are in. 

Stepping forward, Heeseung attempts to place a hand on your back to urge you to reconsider, perhaps ask the boy for directions and keep trudging forward on your own, but before he can, you are already clambering into the passenger seat, sinking into the comfort and taking the weight of your distressed feet.

Following your lead, even if it’s apprehensively, Heeseung climbs into the back, setting your bag on one of the seats as though it were a passenger itself. Although alarm bells are ringing in his mind, he appreciates the instant envelopment of contentment as his legs relax, the tingles from hours of walking and anxiety slowly leaving his limbs.

The warmth of the truck's interior is a stark contrast to the cold night outside, and you let out a sigh of relief as the heater's warm air washes over you. The driver puts the truck in gear and pulls back onto the road, the engine's hum vibrating around you as you slip into a relaxed state. 

The driver glances at Heeseung in the rearview mirror, a curious look in his eyes. “Where are you two headed?” he asks.

“Is there a motel nearby?” Heeseung inquires, buckling his seatbelt with a mix of hope and caution.

Nodding, the man smiles. “There is one about 30 minutes away, just beside the memorial hall.”

The confirmation of a place to rest being within reaching distance makes Heeseung’s heart patter with relief. As you settle into your seat, you can’t help but notice the driver’s striking appearance. He is incredibly handsome, with jet-black hair that catches the faint glow of the dashboard lights, thick, dark eyebrows that frame his intense eyes, and a few beauty freckles scattered across his face that add to his rugged charm. His strong but gentle manner is magnetic, and you find yourself drawn to his presence.

You didn’t know people so gorgeous existed in this country, having thought Heeseung might have been the only exception. Yet, here you are, in a four-wheeler with probably two of the fittest men you’ve ever seen. You glance back at Heeseung, his sharp features softened by the warm glow of the truck’s interior lights. Despite the exhaustion etched on his face, there’s a calmness in his expression that wasn’t there before, a quiet acceptance of the situation.

The driver’s gaze flickers to you occasionally, a hint of curiosity mixed with lust. “You don’t look like you belong here, baby girl,” he says, his voice low and smooth, carrying an undercurrent of intrigue.

Twirling your hair with your pointer finger, you bat your eyelashes and smile sheepishly, becoming the woman most men want you to be, and for him, you just might submit to the role. “Is it that obvious?” you say, giggling softly and biting your lip seductively. “I could say the same to you…” Trailing off, you subtly ask for his name, your voice dripping with playful curiosity.

“Sunghoon,” he replies, his name rolling off his tongue with a confident ease. He extends a hand, which you happily take, intending to shake it, but instead, he lifts the back of your hand to his mouth and kisses your knuckles. The unexpected gesture sends a shiver through you, making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

The warmth of his touch lingers long after he releases your hand. Sunghoon’s eyes hold yours for a moment longer, a silent exchange of mutual attraction that leaves you feeling both exhilarated and slightly off-balance.

“I’m Y/N, and this is Heeseung,” you offer your names casually, still swimming in his allure. You had set off with the intention that he would fall for you and give you the lift, but now that you’re here, you feel like a bunny trapped by the bear.

Heeseung shifts slightly in the back seat, his eyes flicking between you and Sunghoon. The moment is not lost on him, but he says nothing, simply watching with a guarded expression. He isn’t jealous of your interaction with Sunghoon per se; it’s more that he is envious of how easily the driver has put you under a spell. The boy’s charm even captivates him a little bit, watching as Sunghoon’s eyes return to the road with not an ounce of trepidation or fear of you. 

That is who he wants to be, everything that Sunghoon is. He probably has girlfriends and lovers coming out of his ears, all probably just as equally as beautiful as you. It makes Heeseung recoil a little in the seat because the only reason he has been able to talk to you so freely is because of your trauma-bonding experience and the fact he has been stuck with you in the same car for hours.

You and Sunghoon continue to converse for the whole journey, flirting so blatantly that Heeseung starts taking mental notes on how to talk to women just to pass the time; he wishes he had brought his notebook with him. Sunghoon’s easy laughter and smooth compliments weave a web of enchantment, and you find yourself responding with a level of flirtation that surprises even you.

In the distance, you start to see lights shining and you instinctively lean forward, your body craving the need of a grungy motel and some much-needed rest, even if it is only for a few hours. The neon sign flickers invitingly, casting a welcoming glow over the worn facade of the building. 

Sunghoon notices your movement and smiles. “We’re almost there,” he says, his voice a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

The truck slows as it approaches the motel, and Sunghoon skillfully navigates into the parking lot. He parks and turns to you with a warm, lingering gaze. “Here we are. I hope this place meets your needs.” His tone is sultry, his eyes hooded as they drop to your cleavage.

You lean over, placing a hand on his chest, your fingers crawling their way along his left pec as you move in closer. Your lips are now so close to his that you can feel his warm breath fanning over your face. “Thank you, Sunghoon. You’re the best,” you murmur, your voice low and seductive. You close the distance and press your lips to his and he eagerly responds, his large hand cupping your face and pulling you closer to deepen the kiss.

Sunghoon's tongue swiftly makes its way to play with yours, licking into your mouth with measured ease. The kiss is hot and intense, and if you weren’t on the run for murder and a certain virgin wasn’t in the backseat, you might have taken things further right there in the truck.

But that wasn’t your plan. You had something else in mind.

Heeseung watches with his jaw slack and mouth open. He knows how good your lips feel and how skilful you are with your tongue, having experienced it firsthand. His eyes widen with a mix of awe and something else - perhaps envy or longing - as he observes the passionate exchange between you and Sunghoon.

After what feels like both an eternity and a heartbeat, you pull back, your lips tingling from the kiss. “We should get inside, get some rest,” you whisper, your voice breathy. Sunghoon nods, his eyes still locked on yours. “Thanks for everything, Hoonie,” you say, the nickname rolling off your tongue and making Sunghoon close his eyes in want.

“If I didn’t have to keep driving, I would be coming with you, fucking you so good,” he admits, his voice low and husky. The rawness of his words shocks Heeseung, but you seem unfazed by the idea; rather, you look a little disappointed.

Despite your feelings, you smile and place one more kiss on his lips before waving him goodbye in some sort of hurry. You step out of the car and slam the door behind you with ease. The sound and vibration jolt Heeseung out of his horny trance before he quickly thanks Sunghoon, picking up your bag and following suit, albeit a lot more clumsily than you.

You send him off one final time as his truck pulls out of the motel parking lot. You grin widely and hide the shooting pain that has found its way back to the sole of your feet. God, you cannot wait to get into a room and take the heels of death off. 

Turning to Heeseung, you see him looking at the poster underneath the illuminated ‘open’ sign. His face is contorted in a mix of horror and dread, his tongue coming out of his mouth to wet his parched lips as he begins to overheat with worry. “What is it?” you ask, puzzled.

“The motel,” he starts, pointing to the board before him, “It’s £40 a night and we only have £20.”

Smirking, you look up at him innocently before rustling something in your hand, bringing it up to his face as a badge of honour. “No, we don’t.”

Heeseung’s eyes leave the board to meet yours but are quickly pulled astray by the notes that sit snugly between two of your fingers. He has to blink a few times before he truly accepts what he is seeing - at least £80 in tens and twenties invades his vision. “When did you…” he trails off, examining the money closely.

“Sunghoon owed me for the kiss,” you shrug, placing the money in your breast pocket while making your way to the entrance of the motel.

Stuttering, Heeseung carefully grabs your arm and pulls you back before you can enter the building. “Y/N, you stole from him, that’s not okay. He helped us out and you robbed him.” His voice is stern but lacks the confidence to back it up, so it comes across as a little pathetic. Although his conviction is feeble, his morals have always taken precedence over anything else, even in moments like this, he cannot sit by and watch you do this so casually.

“Heeseung,” you shove his hand off your arm, “It’s not like I wanted to steal it, okay? But we are desperate and need it way more than he does. We can’t be law-abiding citizens when we literally murdered a man,” you whisper, eyes pleading with him to see your side of the tracks.

And he does somewhat; he agrees that you guys are in a tough situation and resources won’t come easily to you, but he also thinks there have to be better ways to go about this. Relenting, Heeseung nods. “Okay, this one is fine because we need it, but we have to remember that just because that happened in the hotel room doesn’t mean we need to start acting like we’re criminals. We should still keep our values, Y/N.”

You see the worry etched on his face, his eyes pleading for you to agree. “I know, Heeseung. I promise I’ll try to find better ways,” you say, your voice softer, trying to convey your understanding. 

Heeseung exhales deeply, tension easing slightly from his shoulders. “Alright, let’s just get inside and get a room. We can figure things out tomorrow.”

Stepping into the motel foyer instantly blasts you with warmth and the smell of mould, the interior is shabby and the once-white walls are stained yellow with what you can only presume is cigarette smoke. The carpet is damp and you can hear it squelch underneath your heel, the light above the reception desk flickers. Despite all this, it feels like you’re at the Ritz right now due to the exhaustion flowing through your body.

The reception desk is manned by an older man reading the paper, his hair white thinning atop his scalp, his beard in desperate need of a wash, and the remnants of his midnight snack splattered on his light blue shirt. 

He doesn’t notice you at first, his nose too far pressed into yesterday’s edition of the Daily Mail to pay attention. Gingerly, you knock on the desk in an attempt to draw his focus to you and Heeseung, but to no avail. Too tired to start a fight about respect, you decide to speak politely.

“Um, can we have a room, please?” you ask, pushing down the disgust you feel towards the man.

Grunting, he reaches for a key with a brown, leather tag on it before throwing it to Heeseung, who scrambles to catch it. The key jumps from one hand to another as though it was hot as lava, eliciting a panicked state within him.

The man points down a dark hallway. “Condoms are in the vending machine at the end. Use one or I’ll charge you for the sheets,” his hoarse voice instructs, clearly assuming you are both there for something other than sleep. To be fair, it is almost 1am, you’re dressed provocatively, and Heeseung is carrying a tiny travel bag. Although you hate the assumption because it is literally none of his business, you bite your tongue and go with it.

Snapping his fingers, he holds his hand out, eyes glued to an article about how the internet is the first step to alien abduction. Heeseung looks at the man with cruel intent, wishing he were stronger and more confident to cuss the receptionist out for treating you with zero regard.

You throw the two £20 notes at him with the same lack of enthusiasm he gave you and walk towards the room that you know is ridiculously overpriced for what you’ll be given.

And unfortunately for you, it is.

As you open the door and switch on the light, your eyes come across a room so bad that you wouldn’t even let your worst enemy spend a night there. Stains cover the walls, a mixture of blood and piss, though you aren’t quite sure which is which. The ceiling light is half hanging down and flickering rapidly, making it hard for your eyes to focus. The bed sheets are an ugly geometric pattern, clearly chosen to hide whatever atrocities have been conceived within these four walls.

A sour, musty smell permeates the air, a blend of mildew and neglect. The carpet looks damp, suggesting that it’s soaked up more than just water over the years. You gingerly make your way to the bed, pulling back the covers to reveal dingy, threadbare sheets that have seen far better days.

Heeseung stands awkwardly in the doorway, looking around the room with wide eyes. “This place is... something else,” he mutters, the understatement of the century.

“Yeah,” you agree, trying to keep your voice light despite the overwhelming urge to retch. “But at least we have a roof over our heads for the night.”

Heeseung nods, though his expression remains dubious. He drops the bag near the foot of the bed and wanders around the room, looking for any cameras of rats hiding in plain sight. “We’ll make do,” he says, more to reassure himself than you. He has been in far too many dodgy hotels in the last 24 hours.

You sit on the end of the bed, groaning as you take off your heels, your toes happily wiggling with freedom as they thump in agonising pain. Now that you have a moment to relax, your feet are developijg their own heartbeat, banging against your nerves as they scream in pain. 

Heeseung notices the blisters, some just forming and some already burst. There are dark purple bruises on the base of your foot which has now turned bright crimson. He knew the heels were damaging your feet but he never expected it to look like a massacre - it looks like your feet have been put in a shredder during a workplace accident and he’s ready to call on your behalf for some compensation.

“Are you okay?” he asks, knowing the answer already.

“I’m okay, I just need to let them breathe for a minute,” you reply, massaging your feet before they begin to swell any further.

Finding the bathroom, he rummages around for something while you ease your pain. You accidentally run your thumbs too harshly over one of the forming blisters and yelp out, tears pricking your eyes. 

Heeseung comes out from the bathroom, sees a tear slip past your cheek, and instantly shifts into caring mode. He kneels before you, taking the foot that you are grasping and gently lifting it up, pressing a cold compress to your wounds. While he was in the bathroom, he found a face cloth and dampened it, hoping the cooling sensation will somehow ease the pain you’re feeling.

He washes your feet with so much care that it makes your heart do a front flip, the feeling of someone looking after you is almost so foreign that your body doesn’t know how to take it. You could have guessed Heeseung was the caring type, what with how he offered to carry you until you found a place to rest or how he took your bag from your grasp so you had one less thing to worry about. He was so gentle that you mourn all the women who missed out on him because he was too shy.

After a few minutes of silence, Heeseung speaks up. “It’s impressive,” he states simply, keeping his eyes and hands on the task of easing your pain.

Tilting your head, you look at him quizically, “What is?”

“Being able to walk in heels. Particularly ones like those.” His head points to the devil shoes beside him, shuddering at even the thought of you having to put them back on at some point.

“I think you would look good in them, or maybe a pair of Mary Janes is more your style?” you laugh, albeit followed by a suppressed wince as he tries to press out a knot in the arch of your sole.

Heeseung cocks an eyebrow and scoffs. “You might as well give me a pair of stilts, I’d do a better job with them.”

The casual conversation is desperately needed, the tension in your bones slowly fading as you relax. There hasn’t been time to breathe or process anything that has happened, or even share a normal conversation with Heeseung, your minds too busy focusing on getting away with murder, so you welcome the moment to breathe.

Your feet are beginning to feel better, his magical touch is bringing the nerves in your feet back to a normal state. “You’re good at this,” you say fondly, admiring his work.

“One of my friends is a football player, he asks me to do this all the time for him,” he says, sharing a piece of his life with you.

“Was that the one on the phone when you called me?” 

“No, that was Jongseong. He would rather play guitar than play football,” he smiles, thinking of his friend. But that gleeful smile quickly fades into a sorrowful one as he remembers there is a high possibility that he will never see his best friend again.

The boy he has grown up with, the one he used to play basketball with at the park just by the rundown council estate, the scheme he used to call home. He won’t ever get to taste his cooking again or wear matching pyjamas on sleepover nights that they host because ‘it looks so much fun when girls do it’, and he certainly won’t get to hug him again when he needs someone to lean on; the boy is his saving grace and he can’t even speak to him about all of this. 

Heeseung’s breath shakes as he thinks about the implications of his actions. What if Jongseong sees him differently after all of this? Will he believe that it was all in self-defence? Surely after knowing one another for nearly 20 years would warrant some understanding or rationalising.

Quickly, Heeseung clears his throat and shakes his head, blinking back his tears as he stands up and avoids your eyes. You’re confused for a moment but then you observe the upset features and understand. You don’t have friends or family so talking about them would have little to no effect on you or your mind, but Heeseung must have had a bustling friend group and a supportive family, talking about Jongseong must have triggered something inside him, an awakening to the situation that you both find yourselves in.

Reaching out, you try to take his hand but he moves away before you can offer him any solace, heading towards the bathroom. “I’m…going to shower,” he informs you, already making his way to the mould and limescale-filled bathroom.

Unfortunately, the silence he has left in his wake now allows you to dwell in your own dark thoughts. Rather than what Heeseung is feeling regarding friends and family, you’re having to process the fact that while he will have people searching for him, clearing his name because he is ‘too sweet’ and ‘gentle’ to do such a thing, no one will bat an eyelid at you or your character.

You’re a sex worker with no real goals or aspirations, just trying your hardest to get by. No family because they’re either dead or won’t speak to you, the only friends you have are those in the brothel but they quietly distanced themselves once you left, envious of the independent life you chose while they work for half their earnings and have no such thing as flexibility to pick and choose.

When the news eventually breaks out, what will they say? ‘Prostitute Turned a Good Boy Bad in Sexual Murder Fantasy’? You’ll be pinned for all the blame but not for the right reason. Heeseung protected you by murdering that man, he has run away for you so you don’t get caught and charged. He could have gotten away with this, pleaded self-defence just like he said yet you’re the one that forced him to run with you for your selfish reasons.

This is all your fault.

As the weight of your situation crashes down on you, a tear escapes your glossy eyes. You catch it quickly, composing yourself before Heeseung returns. You are determined not to show your weak side too much in front of him; you have to be strong for both of you. God knows his kind and wholesome nature isn’t up for carrying the burdens that this journey will entail.

Hearing the water turn off, you quickly wipe your eyes and sit up straighter, putting on a brave face. It’s difficult to be tough in these situations but for your sanity and hit, you will have to.

Emerging from the shower, Heeseung is draped in a low-hanging towel, his toned tummy now fully visible to you for the first time. His skin is a delicious shade of honey and whiskey and the water droplets running from his chest to his pubic area make it look sweet and inviting. His muscles aren’t overly prominent but just enough to flex and reveal some veins, and his stature somehow looks longer, taller than when he is clothed.

You can’t help but admire the sight before you, feeling an involuntary tug of desire. The damp hair clings to his forehead, and the fresh scent of soap mingles with the steam still lingering from the shower. He looks almost ethereal in the dim light, a contrast to the grimy room surrounding you both.

Your mind drifts to a tantalising fantasy - crawling towards him, begging him to let you take his virginity right here on the filthy, stained bed. The thought sends a shiver down your spine but you know there is a time and a place for such thoughts, and now isn’t ideal. 

He pats some of the water from his left ear before shaking his hair like a dog coming in from the rain. Pushing his hair back, he catches you staring at him and immediately blushes, a tint of rose travelling from his neck to his cheeks.

“Sorry, I should have put my clothes back on,” he says bashfully, quickly retreating to the bathroom to grab his boxers. 

You shake your head to clear your thoughts and respond to his statement. “No, no. We only have one set of clothes each, so it’s best we don’t sleep in them for now,” you say, offering a pragmatic approach to the sleepwear arrangement. 

Taking off his shirt from your body, you stand up and hand it to him. “Thank you for letting me borrow this. I might need it again tomorrow though.” You walk over to him, handing the material back.

His eyes hover on your chest for a second before quickly looking away, careful not to meet your gaze or make eye contact with your erect nipples. Inside, his internal monologue is screaming at even the prospect of seeing your boobs again, but just like in the car, he wants to remain respectful.

You cock your head in surprise at his reaction, not understanding why he won’t even spare you a glance. Looking down at your bare chest, you inhale in understanding and let out a small, huffed laugh. “Heeseung, you were holding my tits not even 14 hours ago, you can look at them.”

“I know, but I still need to be respectful,” he replies, his eyes still not daring to look at any part of your body. It’s not that he doesn’t want to; it’s simply the fact that he wants you to feel comfortable. And how comfortable can a woman be with a man’s prying eyes all over her?

Heeseung might be the most considerate man you have ever met, so hearing him say even the word respect in your presence fills your heart with warmth.

“Do you want me to put it back on?” you ask, waving the shirt in his face. You also have to respect him, and if he’s uncomfortable with you being topless, you need to honour his wishes.

Those Bambi eyes come out once again as he shakes his head. “No, if you’re comfortable, then so am I.”

You smile at his genuine concern. The room’s dim light casts soft shadows on his face, accentuating his gentle features. “You really are something else, Heeseung. You’re so sweet,” you say softly, feeling a sense of comfort in his presence.

Heeseung’s blush deepens, and he shifts slightly, clearly not used to receiving compliments. “I just want you to feel safe,” he mumbles, his eyes still focused on anything but you.

“Thank you,” you reply sincerely. Reaching up to his cheek, you gently pull him to look at you. “I haven’t felt this safe in a long time.”

It’s true. Sure, you might have the police on your trail by now and there is no working lock on the motel room door, but with Heeseung, you feel protected, even if just emotionally. And as Heeseung leans into your touch, you know he feels the same.

If there was anyone to be in this nightmare with, you’re glad it’s him.

“Why don’t we go to bed?” you suggest, pinching his cheek ever so slightly before removing your hand from his face. His cheek wishes to follow you, to keep the heat and easement of its touch, the cold air from the draught now washing over him uncomfortably but that could be due to the fact that he is still only in a towel.

“You don’t want to shower? It might help your feet,” the boy suggests.

“No, I just…I need to rest right now.” The thought of going in for a shower and spending any more time on your feet makes your skin crawl. You’ll shower in the morning but right now, you need to lie down and drift out of this nightmare, even if only for a couple of hours.

Heeseung nods, trying to muster a smile despite the obvious discomfort from the chill and the situation. He stands, turning away slightly to hide his lingering embarrassment as he slips into his boxers, leaving his upper body bare. He twists to turn the overhead light off and makes his way to the uncomfortable bed.

You, meanwhile, pull the blanket up and over your shoulders, creating a small cocoon of warmth and a barrier between your tits and his eyes, just in case he overheats at the sight of them in his face. As you settle in, you can’t help but glance at Heeseung, his body now framed by the dim light of the moonlight and his ass is just peachy enough to make you want to grab it. He slips under the blanket beside you before your mind can wander away once again, careful to maintain a respectful distance.

The bed is small, forcing you both closer than you might have intended but the shared warmth is a welcome relief from the chill. You can hear the steady rhythm of Heeseung’s breathing, a sound that somehow manages to soothe your frayed nerves. He turns his head slightly, his eyes meeting yours and you offer him a reassuring smile.

Heeseung can’t help but admire your beauty, your eyes that speak of the strong woman you are, how you have handled yourself so well throughout all of this, and yet he can still see the vulnerability in your pupils. He believes that there isn’t a woman as beautiful as you in this entire world and he wishes under different circumstances things could be different for both of you.

With a trembling hand, he reaches to push the strayed hairs from your face, a caring gesture that your heart isn’t acquainted with. His fingertips ghost your forehead so lightly that a butterfly could do more damage. You smile and find your body melting, even if only slightly, caving into the comfort.

He smiles back at you, a little more confident in his touch once he sees you visibly at ease. He won’t let you know how much his heart is racing or how the water from his back is out of nervous sweating and not the lukewarm shower he just took. He is nervous to even be in this bed with you, yet he knows you don’t need to hear about that right now, you just need someone to lean on and Heeseung will make damn sure to be that person for you.

“Heeseung?” 

“Hmm?”

“I’m really sorry,” you begin, voice breaking a tiny bit as you apologise to him. “This is all my fault and I dragged you into this mess. You should be sitting that exam on Monday and you sure as fuck shouldn’t be with me in this shithole of a motel, god knows how far away from home.”

Your words make Heeseung’s heart break, the cracks allowing his empathy to seep through into his touch. His hand cups your face, his thumb gently stroking the apples of your cheeks, each caress a silent kiss of reassurance.

“Y/N, you couldn’t have known all of this was going to happen,” he says softly, his voice laced with sympathy. He knows you’ll shoulder the blame, even though you never asked for the brute of a man to almost murder you.

Your hand covers his, and you clasp it, bringing it to rest between you both. “I think I did, in some way. He didn’t take it very well when I told him to shove his money and never come back.” The memory of the man’s red-clad face and angry words winces in your chest as you speak.

“What did he do? Did he…hurt you?” Heeseung swallows the last part of the sentence, already aware of the horrors that can happen in your line of work. His heart sinks into his stomach as you sit in silence, contemplating what to tell him. Part of him wishes he hadn’t asked, fearing the confirmation that the man’s earlier attack wasn’t his first attempt to harm you. Heeseung might have approached this life with pure intentions, but he knows other men certainly do not.

You look down at your interlocked hands and squeeze his fingers tightly. “He was a nice guy at first, paid well and always respected my boundaries. Then one day, he asked me to do something I wasn’t comfortable with, almost forcing me to,” you choke back the tear-filled lump in your throat and close your eyes, the memory overwhelming you. You haven’t spoken out loud about what happened, making it difficult to process emotionally.

Seeing you struggle internally, Heeseung brings your hand to his mouth and kisses it softly, taking a leaf from Sunghoon’s book in an attempt to console you. The meaning behind his gesture compared to the drivers is vastly different and you can even feel it in how tenderly his lips press on your knuckles. 

There is a rumble in your chest as you look at Heeseung who is staring back at you with a shy grin, hoping that his attempt to comfort you has worked. Somehow, it has, and the tears that threatened to spill now make their way back to the ducts as you blink them away. It’s amazing how quickly a simple comforting touch can change the direction of your emotions. As quickly as you want to break down and succumb to the negative emotions, Heeseung has turned the plane around into overwhelming thankfulness. 

Breathing in, you compose yourself again and return his smile. “Thank you. I’m really okay,” liar, “I’m just…sorry I got you into this mess and took you away from your friends and family.”

"Hey, stop apologising. This is no one’s fault but that scum of a dickhead,” Heeseung replies almost instantly, not giving you a chance to take the blame any longer.

You unclasp your hand from his and tuck his long hair behind his ear. His face instantly reddens at the intimate action, the blush spreading rapidly across his cheeks. How he swallows dryly and closes his eyes to calm himself down makes you giggle. “You really haven’t been around girls, have you?” you ask with one eyebrow raised, genuinely curious. You believe him, but you also don’t understand how someone so attractive and kind-hearted has gone 22 years without catching the interest of even one girl.

“No, I haven’t,” he admits, his voice matter-of-fact. But as he sees your eyes urging him to elaborate, he continues, “You’re all just so amazing and beautiful that even thinking about you all puts me in a cold sweat. Every time I talk to a girl, I stutter.”

“Well, with how sweet you are and how big your cock is, you’re doing my kind a disservice here,” you chuckle and he soon follows, although his titter is one filled with nerves due to you mentioning his cock, never mind complimenting it. 

Even this subtle moment of laughter eases the sadness that engulfs the small, suffocating room. Your body relaxes instantly as you share the tender moment, the worries subsiding if only for a few seconds. You truly believe that with Heeseung here with you, there might be a white light at the end of the tunnel.

“We will get through this, yeah?” you ask, your voice trembling slightly, betraying the nerves beneath your bravado.

Heeseung, lying beside you, feels an overwhelming rush of emotion at your words. The term ‘we’ makes his knees buckle and his body melt, even in his reclined position. The idea that you are now a ‘we’ fills him with a strange pride; it feels right. In the midst of the chaos and uncertainty, this newly formed bond with you is the one thing that makes sense.

Taking your hand gently, he brings it up from under the covers, the warmth of your touch grounding him. He holds out his pinky, a simple yet powerful gesture of solidarity, and intertwines it with yours. “Together,” he murmurs, his voice steady and filled with conviction for the first time since you met.

You squeeze his pinky, conveying a depth of emotion that words cannot. The weight of the world still presses down on you both but in this moment you feel a sense of unity and strength that gives you hope.

Heeseung's gaze softens as he looks at you, his eyes reflecting the unspoken promises and shared resolve between you. “We’ll face whatever comes,” he continues, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. “I’m not going anywhere, Y/N. We’ll find a way through this.”

A lump forms in your throat, deeply moved by his sincerity. “Thank you, Heeseung,” you whisper, your voice barely audible. “For everything.”

You lean forward and press a tender kiss to his lips, shocking him still before he responds. His lips are soft and warm against yours, and you can feel the initial surprise melt into a gentle acceptance. He moves his lips timidly against your gentle motions, embracing your bottom lip between his. When you pull back, your foreheads rest against each other, and you can feel his breath, a soft, comforting rhythm against your skin.

Heeseung's eyes flutter open, filled with a mixture of awe and tenderness. “Y/N,” he breathes, his voice low. “I... I don’t....”

“I won’t charge you for that one, don’t worry,” you joke, eyes shrinking in size as you smile at him with adoration. 

“You can add it to my bill,” he jabs back, the ease between you both settling softly in his heart. He’s in this with you for however long you can both keep running; he’ll never run out of breath with you by his side.

You both settle back down, the exhaustion of the day finally catching up with you. As you lie there, facing one another, the connection between you creates a sanctuary, a haven amid the storm..

“Goodnight, Heeseung,” you murmur, your eyes closing as sleep begins to pull you under.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” he replies softly, pressing another nervous gentle kiss to your forehead, hoping you don’t mind it. “Sweet dreams.”

_____

It has been three days since you and Heeseung embarked on this desperate journey. The days blur together into a surreal montage of fleeting rides in strangers’ cars, restless nights spent in makeshift shelters, and scavenging through lost and found bins for essentials. The denim booty shorts were a tight fit, the crop top strained against your curves, and the trainers were a comically mismatched pair that made walking more of a challenge than usual. But they were clothes and that counted for something; you’re just thankful to keep your heels firmly off your feet.

On the plus side, the witch hunt hasn’t caught up with you yet. There have been no news articles or TV broadcasts with your faces plastered on them, which means the authorities are probably still focusing their search on your home city. Maybe they think you’re hiding out somewhere familiar, not realising you’ve already slipped away. There’s also a slight comfort in knowing you’re not their top priority, what with a lunatic serial killer on the loose taking up most of their attention. The murder of a local cheater seems low on their list, giving you a small, but temporary, reprieve.

But you can’t afford to get too comfortable. It’s only a matter of time before they widen their search and your faces become recognisable as wanted criminals. Every day, you wake up with a jolt, wondering if today will be the day they catch up to you. Fear is a constant companion.

You’ve settled into a rough routine. By day, you move from place to place, never staying too long in one spot. By night, you find whatever shelter you can and try to get some rest. Sleep doesn’t come easy, not with the constant worry of being found, but having Heeseung beside you helps. You take turns keeping watch and your trust in each other grows stronger with each passing day.

There’s an unspoken bond between you now, forged by the hardships you’ve faced together. You’ve seen each other at your lowest, your most vulnerable, and yet there’s a strength in that vulnerability. You’ve learned to rely on each other in ways you never thought possible, and it’s this reliance that keeps you going, even when everything else seems bleak.

Heeseung has also gotten over the virgin nerves and talks to you casually, the stuttering and awkward glances to you now significantly less.However, his newfound ease doesn’t extend to other girls. One driver you hitched a ride from was a beautiful brunette with tanned skin and tattoos along her neck. At first, you thought he might have been nervous due to her rugged appearance, but that was quickly debunked when you caught him fumbling over his sentences, even when she asked for something as simple as his name. He was clearly taken aback by her beauty. You can't help but slightly miss how he used to be like that around you, though you have more pressing concerns at the moment.

As you both approach a convenience store, you turn to Heeseung. "Do we have enough money to buy ciggies?"

Heeseung sighs, shaking his head. "No, we don’t. We used the last £2 we had on the bottles of water and that pack of Opal Fruits," he replies, the defeat in his voice palpable. The thought of no more delicious fruit-flavoured cubed treats to munch on for a burst of energy or to get the taste of dehydration from his mouth makes him want to whine out like a displeased child.

The convenience store is a small, rundown building with flickering lights. As you step inside, the smell of stale bread and cleaning detergent hits you. The fluorescent lights cast a harsh glare on the faded linoleum floor. You glance around, hoping to find something cheap enough to stave off your hunger, but your pockets are painfully empty.

Heeseung starts browsing the shelves, his eyes lingering on the snacks and drinks you can't afford. You both know stealing isn’t an option - not between Heeseung’s morals and the possibility that getting caught could mean the end of your freedom. Still, the gnawing hunger and the need for a smoke make it hard to ignore the tempting sight of cigarettes behind the counter.

You notice Heeseung's gaze fixed on a pack of Hobnob biscuits, his expression is a mix of longing and resignation. “Maybe we can find some loose change outside,” he suggests half-heartedly, already knowing it’s a long shot. None of you have found even 20p in all the time you’ve been walking.

The shopkeeper, a grumpy-looking old man with glasses perched precariously on the bridge of his nose, eyes you both suspiciously, your raggy clothes and dishevelled appearance enough to put any shop owner on high alert. You try to ignore the weight of his stare, feeling more like fugitives with each passing second.

"Let's just go," you mutter, pulling Heeseung towards the door. "We'll figure something out."

Outside, the scorching sun beats down relentlessly, turning the air into a furnace that makes your skin tingle and your clothes cling uncomfortably. There’s not much around besides the convenience store, a few gas pumps, and an old, forgotten bus stop that provides a meagre shelter from the blistering heat. Exhausted and desperate, you flop down onto the narrow seat of the bus stop, letting out a sigh of relief tinged with despair.

Resting your head against the plastic shelter, you shield your eyes from the glaring sun with your hand. In a swift move, Heeseung positions himself in front of you, casting a cool shadow that eases the strain on your eyes. The reprieve is brief but welcome in this sweltering heat.

While taking a moment to catch your breath, something catches your eye - a flyer hanging askew on the bus stop wall. It flutters in the hot breeze, its edges worn and corners curling from exposure to the elements. You reach out and grab it, fingers brushing against the weathered paper. Despite its faded appearance, the bold, colourful graphics are still discernible, and your heart skips a beat as you read the headline:

“Saturn Club: Where the Stars Align for a Stellar Time.”

Your eyes widen as you scan the flyer. It's an advertisement for a local strip club, promising quick cash for performers. The advert is as though it was made for you, what with all the countless times you’ve had to do strip teases for clients.

"Heeseung, look at this," you say, handing him the flyer with a mix of excitement and apprehension. "There is a strip club not far from here!” you exclaim. Never in your life did you think you would be so happy to see a strip club in rundown Britain, yet, it might as well be a casino in Vegas for you both right now. 

Taking the poster from your hand, Heeseung inspects it carefully and his brows furrow in contemplation between concern and pragmatic consideration. “Y/N, this…are you sure? The men at these places can get pretty handsy.”

“I’m a sex worker, Heeseung, all I know is handsy,” you laugh, still elated by the idea of earning enough money to survive even just a little longer. “It’s only one night and the least I ever made was £300.”

Heeseung sighs, torn between his protective instincts and the harsh reality of your current situation. The thought of you subjected to the leering eyes and groping hands of strangers doesn't sit well with him, but he knows you both need the money urgently, and he can’t exactly argue that £300, or even £50, wouldn’t do you both the world of good.

"We need the money," you add softly, seeing the turmoil in his eyes. "And right now, this might be our best shot. Let me do this."

Heeseung nods reluctantly, handing the flyer back to you. "Okay, if this is what we have to do," his voice is tinged with resignation. Deep down, he wishes there were another way, a safer way for you to earn the cash you need.

“You need to sell me though,” you say, already trying to fix your hair in the reflection of the shelter window panes.

Tilting his head, he looks at you quizzically. “What the hell do you mean ‘sell’ you.”

You take a deep breath, gathering your thoughts before explaining. "I mean, I have to look appealing, desirable. These places thrive on attraction, Heeseung. Men only want what they think is in high demand," you say earnestly, meeting his concerned gaze. "So I need you to present me to the owner, assuming it's a man. Tell him that I'm highly wanted all over South London. That should seal the deal."

Wanted was not an intentional word choice but technically then, Heeseung wasn’t lying. You technically are wanted.

“You mean you want me to pimp you out?” he gasps, clutching onto your bag with might as he fathoms the idea. He doesn’t want to ‘sell’ you, he wants you to go in there, sit on a few laps and then dip.

But when he looks into your pleading eyes, he knows there is no point in arguing with you. You’re going to that club whether he likes it or not, he might as well support you, protect you. Although he doesn’t know if he’ll be any use, you do a damn good job at that all on your own.

Heeseung takes a deep breath, his shoulders relaxing slightly. "Alright," he says, his voice more resolute. "Let's do this. But I'll be right there with you, okay? I'm not leaving your side for a second."

“Good, you can watch me in action,” you smile, winking as you begin the walk to the sleazy club.

_____

After a twenty-minute walk and Heeseung running his fingers through your hair to make it look presentable, you both stand outside Saturn strip club. The sign above the entrance flickers with an image of a planet and rings, casting an ethereal blue and orange glow that adds to the futuristic atmosphere. Despite it being only late afternoon, the music is already blaring, and the car park is packed with vehicles, a testament to the club's popularity; which means more money for you and Heeseung.

Grabbing your hand, Heeseung pulls you back before you head to the bouncer, causing you to whip around. His iris’ gleam with apprehension as he eyes you one last time. “If anyone touches you or does something you don’t like, give me a signal and I’ll be the first one there,” he says calmly, though his voice box shakes slightly. It’s one thing to imagine you in an uncomfortable predicament, but somehow knowing he is benefiting from this too makes him feel queasy.

You squeeze his hand reassuringly, the warmth of his touch grounding you. “I promise, you’ll be the first I run to,” you say, offering him a wide grin to ease his nerves. You want him to know that you’re ready for whatever lies behind those black double doors.

Heeseung nods, taking a deep breath as he lets you go. The bouncer gives you a brief nod and opens the door, letting you both step inside the entrance area of the club. The interior is even more dazzling than you anticipated, with laser lights cutting through artificial smoke, creating an atmosphere that feels otherworldly. You wouldn’t think it was broad daylight outside, so much so you have to adjust your eyes.

An eager host comes up to greet you, her eyes already trained on Heeseung only. She is gorgeous, more beautiful than you could ever imagine being which makes you wonder how on earth she ended up in a place like this. 

You take her in, unable to resist admiring her curves in the skimpy outfit she clearly chose to maximise tips. She is adorned in white leather, her bra providing minimal coverage and accentuating her cleavage. Pastel pink buckles run along the seams of the cups, matching the pretty pink buckled collar around her neck. The bottom half of her outfit is equally provocative: a white leather thong, complemented by pink straps on either side of her hips. Her thighs are wrapped in matching buckled straps that draw your gaze directly to the intricate cherry blossom tattoo on her thigh. The overall effect is mesmerising, her outfit both alluring and carefully crafted to captivate attention.

And attention she has gained, particularly from your tall companion, whose mouth hangs open as he twists his neck, a telltale sign of his overstimulation. The girl places her hands on his chest, rubbing his pecs slightly, her touch both confident and teasing. Heeseung's eyes widen, his breath hitching as he tries to process the sudden intimacy. The girl smirks, clearly enjoying the effect she has on him, her fingers tracing gentle patterns over his shirt.

"What's your name, handsome?" she purrs, her voice low and sultry.

Heeseung stammers, trying to find his voice. "H-Heeseung," he finally manages to say, his cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and excitement. He thinks you’re beautiful - no, he knows you’re beautiful. But this girl is like something off the VHS tapes he keeps under his bed. Her full lips and honey-toned skin are enough to send him into overdrive, never mind how good her touch feels.

“Pretty name, I’m Mars,” she whispers, looking up at him with innocent yet deadly eyes.

“Like the p-planet?” he stutters. He had thought he got over this - speaking with you so freely, seeing your body more times than he could have ever imagined. It was easy with you. But now this girl, Mars, had booked him a ticket right back into Loserville.

Giggling, she pushes her chest into his, bringing her lips to his ear. “Yeah, like the planet. Do you want to explore it, baby?” Her teeth nibble slightly at his lobe and he swears he starts to hear colours as his cock leaps for joy.

The sultry invitation has Heeseung frozen in place, his mind racing with a whirlwind of thoughts and sensations. He's completely out of his depth, his body betraying him as he tries to maintain some semblance of composure. His breath comes in shallow gasps, and he struggles to form coherent words.

You watch as Mars absolutely devours Heeseung’s ability to do anything, and jealousy spikes inside you. Are you envious of the way she makes him feel? Absolutely, and you’re doing a poor job of hiding it. Your face twists in disgust as you glare at the girl, feeling a pang of possessiveness.

“Mars? Hi,” you say, tapping her shoulder with exaggerated politeness. “We’re actually here to see your manager. I need a job.” Your tone is sharp and direct, devoid of any negative emotions toward the hardworking girl. It’s not her fault she’s pining over Heeseung - who wouldn’t? But it doesn’t make it sting any less just because you understand she has a job to do and that your partner in crime is insanely attractive and innocent.

Mars blinks, momentarily taken aback by your interruption. She recovers quickly, though, flashing you a fake professional smile. “Of course, babe. Follow me,” she says, stepping away from Heeseung and giving you a small nod of acknowledgment.

You follow Mars through the club, feeling Heeseung's presence close behind you, his hand constantly on your back for assurance, for him more so than you. The music grows louder as you weave through the throng of patrons, the air thick with the scent of perfume and sweat. Neon lights cast an otherworldly glow on the scene, dancers moving with hypnotic grace under the cosmic-themed decorations.

Reaching a door marked "Manager," Mars knocks lightly before pushing it open. “Boss, I’ve got someone here who’s interested in a job,” she announces, stepping aside to let you and Heeseung enter. 

Before Mars shuts the door behind her, she lets her hand trail down Heeseung’s arm, creating a fleeting contact that sends a shiver over his body. “Come find me when you’re done here, hmm? I’ll take you to the stars,” she whispers with a sultry smile, her words hanging in the air like a promise.

Heeseung audibly gulps, caught off guard by Mars’s bold flirtation. His cheeks flush pink as he nods in response, his movements almost automatic under her gaze. Mars gives him a knowing smile before finally closing the door, leaving you and Heeseung alone with the club manager.

The manager, a stern-looking man with a grizzled beard and piercing eyes, studies you both intently. He gestures for you to take a seat opposite his desk, the room lit dimly by a solitary desk lamp that casts deep shadows across his face.

“So, you’re looking for a job as a dancer?” he asks, his voice gruff yet measured.

“Yes, just for tonight,” you reply, in hopes that it sweetens the deal. “Heeseung will tell you, I’ve done this gig before, tell him.” You pinch Heeseung’s elbow to get him out of his Mars-like trance and he stands to attention, nodding eagerly.

The manager sits forward, waiting to hear Heeseung’s pitch, stroking his beard as he assesses the nervous boy in front of him. Nudging him forward, you look at Heeseung with desperation. It’s humiliating, having to rely on a man to get you work but that’s the business in this day in age. Perhaps one day, women will be able to take the reigns of sex work and enjoy the industry freely without judgment or men involved.

Heeseung shifts nervously, feeling the weight of his words as he describes you to the manager. "Y/N, she is uh…" He pauses, searching for the right thing to say that will convey admiration without making you uncomfortable. "She’s gorgeous, more beautiful than any of the women you have here already," he continues earnestly, his cheeks tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "Her body is to die for, seriously. She’s got curves in all the right places, and there’s this cute little freckle on her ass, like a beauty mark. And her smile…she can pull you in so easily with it."

The honesty in his voice shocks you a little and melts your heart all the same. He’s talking about your body but not once did he make you feel like a piece of meat, his words oddly sending a fleet of butterflies to your stomach. His cheeks tinted rosé only add to the sincerity of his words, showing that he's not accustomed to vocalising such thoughts openly. It's clear he's navigating unfamiliar territory, trying his best to convey his admiration without crossing any boundaries.

“Okay, enough lovey-dovey shit. Turn around for me, Princess,” the manager's gruff directive breaks the tender moment, pulling you sharply back into the stark reality of the strip club's business. His blunt manner contrasts sharply with Heeseung's earlier sincerity, reminding you of the transactional nature of this environment. Swallowing your discomfort, you comply with his request, turning slowly as instructed.

"I have my own lingerie and I can dance to any music," you assert, trying to negotiate terms that will give you some control over the situation. Your eyes plead with him, hoping to strike a balance between earning your keep and maintaining a semblance of autonomy. “I’ll give you 10% of my tips, directly to you, not including the commission from private dances.”

Now that makes the man's ears perk up. Clasping his hands and rubbing them together, the sound mimicking that of two sandpapers, he nods. “Start now. 10% fees and your boyfriend stays away from you.”

"Deal!" you exclaim, relief flooding through you at the prospect of securing work for the night. The excitement in your voice is genuine, tempered by the grim reality of your circumstances. You know there are far better things to be enthusiastic about than exposing yourself for money, but the promise of earning enough for basic needs like a hot meal and a decent bed feels like a small victory in this moment of desperation.

You grasp Heeseung's hand firmly as you exit the manager's office, eager to escape the uncomfortable atmosphere and find some privacy to prepare for your unexpected performance. The hallway is dimly lit, the walls adorned with faded posters advertising past events at the club, their colours muted under the flickering red lights.

"Heeseung, come on," you urge, your voice a hushed whisper tinged with urgency. You guide him down the narrow corridor, following the manager's directions to the dressing room where you can change into the lingerie you brought along. “Can you pass me my bag?” you ask, already shedding the clothes that have clung to you for far too long.

You don’t miss the thongs or the bra, but god did you hate the clothes you were stuck with.

Heeseung nods, silently searching in the bag. His brow furrows slightly as he retrieves your heels, recalling the pain you endured on your first night on the run. Next, he carefully pulls out the baby blue lingerie, decorated with delicate lace details and dainty white bows. Fortunately, you had packed a garter belt and matching fishnet stockings, adding a touch of allure to the ensemble. This was the outfit meant for your most generous client, designed to be slowly peeled away piece by piece to maximise his enjoyment.

Turning to Heeseung, you take the outfit and begin to dress yourself. He feels a pang of discomfort on your behalf, averting his eyes as you start to remove your denim shorts and underwear. He catches himself thinking about how much he’s seen of you and vice versa, how much you’ve shared on this chaotic journey together. Perhaps you are closer than he initially realised, having been through so much in such a short period. Yet, he respects your privacy and understands there are parts of you that should remain yours alone.

As you adjust the lingerie, ensuring everything fits just right, you steal a glance at Heeseung. His cheeks are flushed, and he shifts awkwardly, clearly grappling with conflicting emotions. “Heeseung, how do I look?”

His heart skips a beat at your question, grateful for the permission to openly admire you. You look even more beautiful than the day he first met you, the soft blue hue of the lingerie complementing your skin perfectly. The garters and fishnet stockings add an allure that both excites and unsettles him, stirring desires he’s tried to suppress amidst the chaos of your circumstances.

“Well?” you prompt, twirling gracefully, a playful smile dancing on your lips. His breath catches as he watches you spin, a sight that simultaneously ignites a fierce longing and a protective instinct.

“You look… stunning,” he manages, his voice soft yet filled with sincerity. “Ready.”

He tacks on the last word to offer you more than a mere compliment; it’s a declaration of ability, a reassurance that you’re prepared for whatever lies ahead. Despite the ache in his chest and the turmoil in his mind, Heeseung’s smile remains steadfast.

You meet his gaze, gratitude reflected in your features. His encouragement steadies you, reminding you that despite the circumstances, you are more than capable of taking control of your destiny tonight. You are Y/N L/N, and you can do this.

“Thank you, Heeseung,” you say softly, reaching out to squeeze his hand. His touch grounds you, a tangible anchor in the stormy sea of uncertainties that surrounds you both. “I’ll try and make as much money as I can.”

“And if anyone makes you uncomfortable—”

“Call to you, I know,” you finish his sentence with a sheepish smile, not accustomed to being under someone’s protective watch but grateful for it nonetheless. You lean in and place a gentle kiss on his cheek, feeling a sense of ease knowing he’s there for you.

With a final nod and a reassuring squeeze of his hand, you turn towards the door leading back into the club. The music pulses louder now, beckoning you into the atmosphere of flashing lights and swirling bodies. Adjusting your mindset and your bra strap, you step forward, ready to face the night.

_____

Four hours later, Heeseung remains firmly planted in the same velvet-covered seat, his nerves fraying with each passing minute. The club is now teeming with activity, a veritable circus of swirling bodies, flashing lights, and pounding music. Businessmen in expensive suits mingle with scantily-clad dancers, the scent of perfume and cologne blending into a heady cocktail that fills the air.

Heeseung's leg bounces incessantly, a physical manifestation of his anxiety. He's on edge, eyes darting around the room, trying to avoid making eye contact with the dancers who occasionally drift his way. Each time, he mumbles a polite yet firm, "Not here for that," and though some of the girls give him puzzled or slightly annoyed looks, they leave him alone, recognising a dry well when they see one.

His mind keeps drifting back to you, wondering how you're holding up. The thought of you out there, flaunting your body for money, makes his stomach churn, but he knows there's no other choice. You need this, and he has to be strong for you. He can’t help but glance at the clock every few minutes, each tick of the second hand stretching his patience thinner.

Despite his tension, each time you return from a private dance, your presence alone is enough to soothe his tempered nerves momentarily. Your face is a beacon in the dim, neon-lit haze, glowing with a mixture of triumph and exhaustion. You shoot him a gleeful smile and a thumbs up, your eyes sparkling with excitement and relief, signalling that you're making a decent amount of money.

Heeseung feels a mixture of pride and concern. Pride because you're handling this so well, dancing with grace and charm, turning a dire situation into an opportunity. Concern because he knows the toll this must be taking on you, physically and emotionally. Each time you disappear into the back rooms, he holds his breath, praying silently for your safety.

His focus is jarred back to the present as a particularly loud group of businessmen settles into the seats next to him. Their raucous laughter and crude jokes only amplify his discomfort. He shifts in his seat, trying to block out their conversation, but their words seep through, unfortunately. This is just one of the times he wishes that he had a backbone and could tell them to stop being derogatory but he’s already on a boat without a paddle in this place and if he gets kicked out then he can’t be here for you, so he sits quietly and focuses on your upcoming performance.

You’ve done so well over the past couple of hours that the manager has given you the go-ahead for a special 'one night only' stage performance. This is where the punters can throw as much or as little money as they want, as long as the club gets half of your earnings. In Heeseung’s mind, it’s not worth the effort, but you know even with the cut, you could easily make at least £200 from this one dance alone.

Heeseung’s anxiety spikes as the announcement is made, attention from everyone in Saturn is now glued to the stage. However, just as he is about to get comfy, he’s barely settled back into his velvet seat when suddenly, there’s a weight on his lap - unfamiliar but not unpleasant. His heart skips a beat and he tenses.

Looking down, he finds Mars, the sultry hostess from earlier, perched comfortably on his thighs. Her perfume envelops him, a heady mix of vanilla and spice that adds to his already heightened senses. She smiles seductively, her eyes glinting with mischief as she twirls a lock of her hair around her finger.

“You looked a little lonely,” she observes, her eyes trailing up and down his body. She brings a shot glass to his face. “Here, have a drink on me, you seem a bit dehydrated.”

“I-I don’t drink, sorry,” Heeseung stammers awkwardly, avoiding eye contact and focusing on the stage as he waits for you to appear. He isn’t exactly uncomfortable in her presence, but he doesn’t know what to do. Talking to women is still an issue for him, so what is he to do now that Aphrodite’s daughter is on his lap and showing him interest?

Mars giggles and shoots the shot of tequila back herself, shrugging as she places the glass on the table in front of them. “You’re a good boy, huh?”

Heeseung shifts nervously, his hands resting awkwardly on the sides of the chair in a desperate attempt not to touch her. "I just...don't really drink," he explains, his voice barely audible over the swell of the music.

Mars leans in closer, her breath warm against his ear. "That's okay," she whispers, her tone playful yet reassuring. "I like good boys."

Heeseung's cheeks flush even deeper, his mind a chaotic whirl of emotions. He's trying to focus on the stage, waiting for your performance to start, but Mars's proximity and the beautiful tone of her voice are incredibly distracting. He wishes he had the confidence to brush her off more assertively, but he's too polite and too nervous to do anything but sit there, stiff as a board.

The first few notes of ‘I Touch Myself’ by Divinyls send a shiver down his spine, and his attention is immediately captured. The stage lights dim, creating an atmosphere of anticipation. Then, you step into the spotlight. The transformation is immediate; you move with confidence and grace that mesmerises everyone in the room, including Heeseung.

The baby blue lingerie hugs your curves perfectly, the lace and bows adding an innocent allure to your otherwise sultry appearance. The garter and fishnets complete the look, drawing appreciative murmurs and wolf whistles from the crowd.

Mars shifts slightly, pressing closer to Heeseung in an attempt to lure his attention away from you, but he’s too engrossed in your performance to pay her much attention. You meet his gaze briefly, and the connection is electric. Your smile, despite the suggestive dance, is warm and genuine, a silent reassurance that you’re okay, in fact, you’re enjoying yourself.

You didn’t get the chance to perform like this much at your old job, in front of a crowd and void of clammy hands roaming all over your body. It was a nice change to just perform and feel comfortable. The clients here are actually quite respectful, each of the men you’ve taken for a private dance has only asked for what’s on the menu and nothing more. They’ve respected your boundaries, which is more than you can say for the men you usually encounter in your line of work.

This dance wasn’t even necessary in terms of making money; you have made more than enough for you and Heeseung to get by for at least a week. But as you look at Heeseung, who hasn’t taken his eyes off of you despite the eager house girl doing everything in her power to grab his attention, you feel even happier you decided to do this.

There is no denying in your mind that you’ve grown fond of Heeseung, maybe you like him even a little bit, so to have him captivated like this is boosting your ego and putting an extra beat in your step. He isn’t your boyfriend or lover but he makes you feel content like one should.

That probably explains the jealousy creeping up in you. Despite his avoidance of the girl touching his chest and arms, you can’t help but feel like that should be you, that you should be the one to have him squirming and swallowing thickly as you whisper sensual words in his ear.

Why do you feel like this all of a sudden? Maybe due to the fact that it’s the first time you’ve seen him with a girl since you’ve known him and it’s bringing a protective instinct out in you, maybe it’s because you see him as more than the partner in crime you keep painting him to be.

Whatever the reason, you can’t stand by and watch it happen any longer.

Despite the manager's warning for Heeseung to stay away, you can't help but devise a plan to draw him away from Mars while also delivering an unforgettable performance for the eager men ready to spend their money. Determined to keep Heeseung's attentiveness and secure a hefty tip from the men beside hin, you approach the pole with calculated confidence.

Gripping the cool, polished metal, you begin your routine with a graceful twist, your body moving fluidly. As you spin, your leg wraps around the pole, securing you in a seamless motion. Your movements are deliberate and skilled, every turn and twirl executed with precision. The pole becomes an extension of your body, allowing you to showcase your strength and agility.

Using the momentum, you propel yourself into a daring inversion, your legs splitting elegantly as you hold yourself upside down. The crowd's cheers and whistles grow louder, their excitement palpable. The money flows your way with ease, but your focus is on a bigger prize.

You glance over at Heeseung, seeing him mesmerised, his eyes locked on you. The sight spurs you on, and you walk to the edge of the stage, elongating your legs and exaggerating each movement, your gaze never leaving his. You bend down slowly, getting on your hands and knees, crawling across the stage with the slow, sleek grace of a lioness stalking her prey. Tonight, your prey is Lee Heeseung.

And fuck, does he know it.

Heeseung sits up straight, his eyes glued to yours as you draw him in, smiling at him half innocently, half predatorily. His reaction causes Mars to stumble off his lap, forcing her to catch herself on the arm of the chair. He doesn’t mean to cause the disruption and should rightfully apologise, but all he sees is you. It's as if you're casting a spell on him, and as you beckon him forward with the curl of your finger, he stands up like a mindless zombie, following your request without hesitation.

Your seductive crawl leaves the audience in awe and the anticipation in the room heightens, you can feel the collective breaths being held. As Heeseung approaches the stage, the connection between you two becomes electric, a tangible force that captivates everyone watching.

You reach out, taking his hand and guiding him up onto the stage. The crowd's whistles and catcalls reach a fever pitch, but all that matters is the look in Heeseung's eyes, a mixture of awe, desire, and something deeper. This is your moment, and you savour every second of it, knowing that you've not only captivated the audience but also claimed Heeseung's undivided attention.

Pushing him gently so his back is against the stripper pole, you smile at him softly. “Just enjoy it, yeah?” you murmur, your voice a seductive purr that sends goosebumps all over his skin. He nods quickly, trying to ignore the sweat trickling down his forehead as he attempts to relax, however, the strain of his cock tingling in his boxers is proving it rather difficult.

You begin to sway in front of him, your hands splayed across his chest, moving them slowly downward past his stomach and hips. Hooking your fingers into his belt loops, you sit back on your heels, looking up at him through your long lashes. The crowd is mesmerised, their attention entirely on you, wondering what you plan to do next and wishing it was going to happen to them.

With a fluid motion, you rise and turn your back to Heeseung, pressing yourself against him as you grind slowly. The sensation of your body moving against his is almost too much for him to handle, and he clenches his fists to maintain some semblance of control. If he pops a boner in front of at least 30 grown men and the dancers, he might just die on the spot. You glance over your shoulder, catching his gaze and giving him a playful wink. 

Heeseung’s eyes widen as you slink your hands down your body and to your thigh, slipping off one of your garters, the lacy fabric sliding down your leg with ease. You twirl it in your fingers, dangling it in front of the shocked boy’s face before wrapping it around his wrists. He watches, transfixed, as you skillfully tie his hands behind the pole, effectively rendering him unable to touch you. The act is both tantalising and torturous for him, his desire evident in the way his body tenses and legs shuffle to find any sort of distraction from his throbbing cock.

Addressing the audience, you wag your finger playfully, utilising your drama skills from the youth centre to emphasise that the bound man can't lay a finger on you, much to the delight of the eager crowd.

You continue your dance with hypnotic grace, the fabric keeping Heeseung firmly restrained. Your hands explore your curves, accentuating every movement, while the lyrics echo the theme of self-indulgence, allowing you to lose yourself in the performance.

Turning away from the audience, you unclasp your bra, your back now fully exposed. The crowd's eegerness grows as you slowly let the straps slide off your shoulders. With a flick of your wrist, you toss the bra aside, eliciting cheers and whistles from the captivated onlookers.

Your eyes are fixed on Heeseung as you approach the finale of the routine, striding towards him with confident allure. “You’re doing so good for me, baby,” you purr, the affectionate nickname slipping out so naturally that it momentarily stuns him. Yet, the look in his eyes tells you he’s far from displeased. 

With a few grinds and touches to Heeseung, the routine comes to an end and you face your adoring fans, the money showering onto the stage in notes of £10s and £20s. You smile and blow kisses to some of the men, bouncing slightly to make your tits clap, earning you a few more whistles and cheers. 

Striding back to Heeseung, you untie the garter from his wrists and pull him to the back, both of your chests heaving in exhilaration. 

“Oh my god, Heeseung! I couldn’t even see the floor for money,” you exclaim, clapping in excitement. With the private dances and your most recent performance, you’ve easily earned over £500, enough for a warm meal and then some.

Heeseung looks at you, smiling shyly, hoping you don’t notice the bulge forming in his trousers. He’s never encountered anyone like you before and can hardly believe he had the privilege of you grinding on him for a good two minutes. The dryness in his mouth is a testament to how long he stood there, mouth agape, watching you perform. If this was his first and last strip show, he’s glad it was yours.

“You did amazing, Y/N,” he says sincerely, causing you to turn your head to face him. His eyes are filled with adoration, but you can see the lust ghosting over them. “I almost busted in my pants out there,” he adds, attempting to joke, but you know he isn’t lying.

Smiling, you step forward, gently pushing him to sit on one of the white tables behind him. The shock is evident on his face. “How about…you bust somewhere else?”

“W-what?” His eyes widen as your fingers begin to fiddle with the button of his trousers.

“Well, you did so well, and I do owe you, considering we got interrupted last time.” Heeseung shakes his head, mouth moving but no words coming out. You laugh softly, finally unbuttoning his jeans. “I’m not taking your virginity in a sleazy strip club,” you assure him in a teasing tone, “But how about I give you some relief?”

His breath hitches as your hand slips beneath the fabric, his body reacting instantly to your touch. Heeseung’s eyes flutter closed, his head tipping back as he surrenders to the sensation. Your fingers wrap around his shaft loosely, to the point you might as well not even be touching it, only driving him further to need.

You kneel in front of him and Heeseung’s breath quickens, your fingers deftly working to free him from his trousers, and his erection springs forth, eager and ready, his tip already on the edge of exploding. You glance up at him, your eyes locking onto his, and the anticipation in the air is suffocating. He can’t believe this is happening and he is just praying to whatever higher power will listen that you won’t get stopped by a maniac trying to kill you.

Slowly, you lean forward, your lips parting as you take him into your mouth. Heeseung lets out a choked gasp, his hands instinctively reaching for the edge of the table to steady himself. The warmth and wetness of your mouth envelop him, and he can hardly believe the pleasure that courses through his body. Somehow, this feels so much better than it did the first time, perhaps because he didn’t spend hours worrying over it and instead, the spontaneity of it all is only adding to his arousal - the less time he has to think, the easier it is to let himself go.

Your tongue swirls around the tip, teasing him with delicate flicks and licks. Heeseung’s eyes roll back, and his grip on the table tightens. Every movement of your mouth sends waves of ecstasy through him, and he’s powerless to do anything but feel.

And what a sensational feeling it is.

You hollow your cheeks, creating a delicious suction as you take him deeper, your tongue pressing and swirling against the underside of his shaft. Heeseung’s breathing becomes ragged, each exhale a desperate moan. You can sense his restraint, the tension in his muscles as he fights the urge to thrust into your mouth. It’s cute how wriggly he is, how even just your mouth is enough to get him fumbling beneath you.

“Oh, shit,” he hisses out, biting his bottom lip just harsh enough to break skin. “This is what heaven feels like, I know it.” He speaks his inner dialogue, the words slipping out by accident as he loses all sense of control to your skilled mouth.

Your hands gently massage his thighs, adding to the sensory overload. You glance up, watching his expressions shift between pleasure and awe, his face red in embarrassment as he whimpers a succession of tiny pleads, willing you to go faster.

The sight of him unravelling heightens your own arousal, spurring you to intensify your efforts. As you bob your head, your right hand wraps around the base, stroking in tandem with your mouth. Heeseung’s body begins to tremble, his legs shaking as he edges closer to release. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m so close,” You quicken your pace, the sounds of your movements filling the room.

Grabbing his hand, you guide it to hold your head, puppeting his fingers to grasp at your head. The silent instruction computes itself to Heeseung’s dazed self and he wraps your hair around his hand, gripping onto you for dear life as you quicken your pace.

You squeeze the bottom of his shaft and thigh in sync, causing the boy to jerk his hips up and his cock to hit the back of your throat. “Fuck!” he yelps out, his length throbbing in your mouth at the action so much that you can feel it on your tongue. You hum around him which only adds to his pleasure.

“Y/N, please, I’m cumming, fuck, I’m cumming,” he whines as his voice hits a higher octave. His hips shallowly jitter, forcing his cock deep into your mouth, taking away half the work as you let him control the situation. For the first time in his life, he is free of embarrassment and nerves, the only feeling he has now is pure need and desire, and it’s all thanks to your mouth.

With a final, deep thrust, Heeseung lets out a guttural moan, his release hitting hard and fast as his balls tighten and the vein that lays underside of his cock protrudes. You feel the warm spurt of his climax run down your throat and fill your mouth, which you swallow eagerly, your tongue continuing to caress him as he rides out his orgasm. The overflow of his cum drips down your chin and onto your bare breasts. The whole scene would turn anyone on and you hope you can get a copy of the CCTV when you’re done.

When he finally begins to relax, you pull back slowly, giving him one last long, teasing lick up his shaft, swirling it around his bell to collect the rest of his glaze before releasing him completely. You look up with a satisfied smile, your lips glistening with the remnants of his seed. Personally, you think it’s the nicest lip gloss you could ever wear, and Heeseung agrees.

Heeseung’s chest heaves as he catches his breath, his eyes wide with a mixture of wonderment and gratitude. He can’t ever repay you for helping him out like this, for giving him his first ever orgasm that was at the hands of someone else.

“Feel better?” you ask playfully, already knowing the answer.

Heeseung nods, a dazed smile spreading across his face, his eyes glazing over with satisfaction. “Much better,” he murmurs, his voice filled with thanks and amazement. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know but you helped me out and I couldn’t have you going out there with a raging hard on, not with Mars about. She’d bounce on it all night and we’d never get out of here,” you jokingly explain.

Heeseung tucks his cock back in his trousers and zips it up, eyes staring at you the whole time. “You think she would have?” His question doesn’t come from bewilderment but rather curiosity, causing you to roll your eyes and walk away.

“Come on, let's get our money.”

_____

Counting the £565 you made from the club, you smile wide, the ends of your mouth splitting your cheeks. The night has been exhilarating, and the weight of the money in your hand feels like a victory. You and Heeseung are making your way back to the convenience store to buy supplies, the thrill of the night still buzzing in your veins.

Heeseung walks beside you, his steps a bit unsteady, still reeling from the intensity of the experience of being in a strip club for half of his day and then getting the best head he thinks he will ever get in his life. He steals glances at you, his expression a mix of admiration and bashfulness. “I still can’t believe how incredible you were,” he says, his voice tinged with awe.

You chuckle, the sound light and happy. “Thanks, Heeseung. I couldn’t have done it without you. You were amazing too. Y’know, you looked really good tied up.” The playful compliment brings a blush to his cheeks, and you can’t help but find his shyness endearing.

As you approach the convenience store, the lights casting a soft glow on the pavement, you feel a sense of contentment when suddenly, someone stops you in your tracks, hand in front of you pointing accusatorily. The gesture makes you feel uneasy, and you grasp Heeseung’s hand with your left and hold onto the money tightly with your right.

“Hey, do I know you two from somewhere?” the man asks in a rugged voice and thick Liverpudlian accent. His eyes are sharp, scrutinising, and it sends a chill down your spine.

Heeseung sees your nervousness and steps forward protectively. “I don’t think so, mate. Sorry,” he says, his voice firm but polite. He gently pulls you out of the man’s way, his grip reassuring on your hand. The words Heeseung spoke are enough to have the man leave you alone, but the encounter leaves you both on edge.

Quickly, you pocket the money in your daisy dukes’ front pocket, keeping your eye on the man as he fades into the night. You have grown accustomed to shady men at night, what with being on the run for nearly four days, but never has one spoken to you so blatantly, especially to ask you a question like that. Unless he was at Saturn earlier, you don’t know how he could know you.

Unfortunately, Heeseung does. Detaching his hand from yours, he looks through the store window to stare at the TV, arms hanging loosely by his side as though he could no longer feel them. In fact, he couldn’t feel any part of his body.

Sensing his tension, you look up at him. “What’s wrong? The guy is gone now,” you reassure, but that isn’t what he is worried about. You follow his gaze to the low-resolution TV perched in the top corner of the store and suddenly, you’re feeling sick and weak, the ground falling beneath you as you read the headline scrolling at the bottom of the screen, pictures plastered as clear as day to complement the words.

BREAKING NEWS: Search begins throughout the UK for suspects Y/N L/N and Lee Heeseung in a brutal passionate murder of local man, aged 56. Authorities say the two fled the scene a few days ago and urge caution to the public. If anyone knows anything please contact Scotland Yard.

Falling back a little, you shake your head in disbelief.

“They’re looking for us…

taglist (closed): @yzzyhee @intromortal @zerobaseone-zhanghao @hooniehon @deobitifull @alvojake @sageryuri @slut4hee @binniesbabe @vveebee @minniejenseo @jebetwo @seunghancore @laurradoesloveu @yongbokified @jaehoonii @jaeyunluvr @melonvrs @criminalyun @enhastolemyheart @fakeuwus @flwrhoes @rayofsunshineeee @moonlighthoon @jaehyuniewifeu @en-ternals @haechonly @got-sunghooned @brownsugarbaybee @heeseungspookie @sunpov @who-tf-soddhi @bambangan

[mydemimonde]

'Baby Said' — Modern!Aemond Targaryen x Reader

divider is from @plutism

a/n: this idea came up after listening to 'baby said' by maneskin on loop, love them sm and that song too

Summary: After a few stolen glances and a drink, you walk up to the bar counter where the blonde man that caught your attention is sitting, looking for some fun.

Words: 4061

Warnings: +18 (minors dni), female reader, no use y/n nor specific physical description, desperate reader, swearing, dirty talk, a bit of choking, hand kink, praising, spitting, tiddy sucking, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, p in v sex, unprotected sex, creampie, slightly dominant aemond, overstim, riding, holy shit so many warnings let me know if i missed one! no proof reading

Strong hands grip your waist as soon as you step foot into the place, soft lips tracing your neck as you grind your ass against his crotch, earning a deep groan from him. He closes the door with his foot and turns your body around to face him, and before he could say anything, you press your lips against his, your hands running over his clothed chest.

He starts walking, pushing you to the nearest wall as your bodies press together. His lips part slightly, letting you slip your tongue inside, and you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. Your hands go all the way up until you get to his broad shoulders, wrapping your arms around him as his hands cupped your ass, making you moan into his mouth.

He pulls away just to attack your neck again, taking his time to kiss, lick and nibble your skin. He pays attention to one particular spot, the one that made you squirm and shiver, something he learned a few moments before. You curse under your breath, and you feel him smirk.

“Eager, are we?” He taunts you, his hand squeezing one of your ass cheeks as you grind against him again, your fingers fumbling with the buttons of his shirt.

“Aemond, please… no more teasing” you sigh, as if you were annoyed. His blue eyes examining your face, relishing your desperate state —heavy breathing, lips red and swollen, cheeks flushed and enticing eyes.

He brings his hand to your cheek to stroke it as the other one caresses your waist, his head tilted to the side as he smirks. “We have the whole night, baby. No need to hurry” he runs his thumb over your lower lip, your tongue darting out just a little. His eyes widen in surprise when your lips close over his finger, closing your eyes as you suck. When you look at him he’s licking his lips, leaning in again to kiss you passionately, slowly, as if your lips were fragile. The same way he kissed you earlier, in the middle of the dance floor.

It was the second mojito you had with your friends, celebrating that you finally graduated from college. Arianne, your friend from work and college, had suggested that you celebrate by going to the famous nightclub Sunfyre, which was located in one of the most expensive districts in King’s Landing.

So there you were, sitting with your friends around a small round table, the neon lights flickering with the rhythm of the music blasting from the speakers. It was Arianne’s turn to buy the drinks, but this time she went for vodka shots.

You cheered with your friends and at the count of three, you all knocked back the liquid, your eyes closing shut at the burning feeling in your throat. All of you clapped and hollered in celebration, unintentionally attracting the attention of some locals around you, but you actually didn’t care. All you wanted was to have a good time with your friends.

As you listened to one of your other friends Lena talking about some anecdote during her summer holidays, you couldn’t shake off the spine-chilling feeling that you were being watched. You pressed your lips together as your eyes scanned the crowded bar, until you found a pair of blue piercing eyes. A playful smirk adorned the man’s face as he looked at you, he was sitting on a stool leaning against the counter, his back turned to the bartender, legs spread. You’ve never thought that manspreading would look so sexy. You gave him a coy smile before turning your attention back to Lena’s story.

The music played loud in the background, people danced and grinded against each other on the dancefloor, your friends were telling funny anecdotes while you were on the fourth drink of the night and you could still feel the man’s piercing gaze on you. Surprisingly for you it wasn’t at all uncomfortable. It was great for your ego that a man like him was looking at you like that, as if he wanted to devour you. Both of you sneaked glances at each other, but neither of you made a move.

You felt a tap on your shoulder and you whip your head around, as if you were caught doing something wrong. “What the hell are you looking at, hun?” Asked Arianne, almost screaming in your ear above the music. You pressed your lips as she squinted her eyes and looked around, trying to find what —or who— was stealing your attention from them. She gave you a sly grin, lightly slapping your arm repeatedly. “Hot stuff looking at you like you’re a full course meal. C’mon, go over there and talk to the guy! He looks expensive, he could be your sugar daddy” you giggled as she wiggled her eyebrows, taking a sip from her margarita.

What Arianne said was true, he looked rather expensive. His platinum hair combed to one side, clad in effortless style —a black t-shirt with the first two buttons casually undone, the sleeves rolled up revealing his forearms, a pair of dark jeans and polished shoes. You wanted nothing more but to feel his hands on you. Maybe that was the alcohol talking, maybe not. A long time passed since you’ve been properly fucked —your ex broke up with you two years ago, and after that you only had boring dates and bad hookups, leaving you with no other choice but to use your fingers and toys to get yourself off. You needed to get fucked, and this man looked like a good hookup.

Before you could open your mouth to say something, a waitress came up to you and left a drink on the table. You and your friends looked at one another in confusion. “Uhm, sorry, but we didn’t order this…” you pointed at the drink that was placed right in front of you.

“I know. An admirer sent it to you” the blonde woman winked at you and left, Arianne chuckling and the rest of the girls oohing at you. You shake your head and feel your cheeks burning, knowing exactly who sent it. Him.

“It’s a sex on the beach!” exclaimed Arianne. “He’s begging you, honey, and you haven’t had a good shag in a while” she raised an eyebrow at you. You jokingly rolled your eyes and grabbed the glass, turning your attention to the man at the counter, who was unsurprisingly looking at you. You raised the glass and he did the same, cheering with you in the air and at the distance, as he gave you a slight nod. Both of you took a sip of your respective beverages, keeping eye contact.

You placed the glass back on the table, stirring your drink with the straw as you thought about what to do next, the alcohol making you feel more courageous to do something and Arianne’s words ringing in your head. “Hey, mind if I leave you for a bit? ‘M gonna talk to that guy” you got off the stool and point at the counter with a movement of your head, your friends making high-pitched sounds of victory at your decision.

“Go get that dick!” Whispered-shouted Lena, Arianne hitting the table repeatedly. You blew them a kiss and grabbed your sex on the beach, strutting down to the guy. As soon as he saw you his smirk got wider and he sat straighter, looking at you like you were his prey.

“Hi there” you said as you sat in the stool next to him, the short dress you were wearing hiking up your thigh just a little bit.

“Hey. Enjoying the night?” His voice was deep and smooth, making you feel all sorts of things in your stomach. He moved so that he was facing you, his forearm resting on the counter.

You nodded. “Yeah. Graduation and all, quite the occasion to celebrate.”

He lifted an eyebrow, eyes examining your figure. “Oh? Congratulations, then. Cheers.” He replied and again, raised his cup to toast with you. You smiled at him and your glasses clinked. You drank and then, he brought a hand to his chest, as if he was apologising. “Sorry if I seemed too forward by inviting you for a drink. Didn’t dare to interrupt your conversation with your friends when you were so into it... didn't seem fair to steal you from them.”

Now it was your turn to smile. You turned your body towards him too, resting one arm on the counter and crossing your legs. “It’s okay. I was actually going to talk to you, eventually. My friends were insisting.”

He chuckled in response. “Well, thank your friends for me. I’m Aemond Targaryen.” Targaryen… the surname did ring a bell. You introduced yourself as well, and both began talking, enjoying each other’s company. He was leaning over you more and more with each passing minute, and when his fingers grazed over your arm you felt electric shocks all over your body, his gaze on you was so intense you could barely form any coherent thought. He was so close that you could smell his cologne, something spicy and leathery, utterly intoxicating.

“Would you like to dance?” He suggested, narrowing his eyes.

“Of course” he stood up and offered you his hand, which you gladly took. You noticed how tall he was, towering over you and making you feel small. You led him to the middle of the dance floor, and on the way there, out of the corner of your eye, you saw your friends watching you two, proud smiles on their faces.

When you got there your body started moving to the rhythm of the music, feeling Aemond’s hands on your waist as you danced. Your bodies were pressed together amidst the sea of people, feeling his breath on your neck as he moved with you. Feeling bold you started grinding against his body, bringing one hand up to place it on the nape of his neck, his hands lightly squeezing the flesh of your waist. The place was getting more and more crowded; the lights flickering and the fake smoke coming from the fog machines were making it harder to see clearly.

His eyes lowered to your lips when you turned to face him, he started leaning in slowly until his nose nudged against yours. You closed your eyes as you felt his soft lips moving against yours, tenderly yet passionately. His hands cupped your face as his tongue explored your mouth, cocking his head to the side. No one’s ever kissed you like that, he was such a good kisser.

Your hands found their way around his slim waist, the kiss was getting more and more intense that you had to pull back for a moment to catch your breaths. If it weren’t for that, you would still be kissing him nonstop. Aemond took the opportunity to leave soft pecks along your jaw, going down the side of your neck until he sucked on a particular spot that made you throw your head back and whine. It didn’t matter that you were in the middle of the dancefloor, surrounded by people —they were engrossed in dancing and drinking, it’s not like they were looking at you—. You just wanted him.

As if he could read your mind, he looked at you. “Shall we get out of here?”

And that’s how you ended up in the apartment of this stranger, kissing and fumbling with each other’s clothes, feeling his erection on your thigh as he hiked up your dress to feel your skin. Aemond pulls back just to kiss your neck again, it’s like he’s addicted to that part of your body. He grabs your legs and picks you up so easily, you wrap your legs around his waist as he starts moving to find a more comfortable place.

You finally get to unbutton his shirt, running your hands all over the visible skin. He isn’t ripped like the guys at the gym, but you can tell that he certainly works out. He almost trips on the way to his bed, chuckling at the way your hands shake when you start unbuckling his jeans. “Fuck, you’re really desperate, huh?” He deposits you on the comfortable bed, looking at him as he takes off his shirt, your breathing heavy when he unbuckles his jeans, getting rid of them quickly, his cock straining against his white boxers.

Aemond grabs you by the ankles and drags you towards him, making you yelp. He lifts one of your legs to undo the straps of your stilettos, and as he does the same with the other you prop up on your arms to take a moment to appreciate him. His tousled hair, his knitted brows in concentration, his slightly parted lips, his long, aquiline nose and the small and almost invisible freckles adorning his shoulders.

When he’s done he hovers over you, arms on either side of your body as he leans in for another kiss. He’s positioned in between your legs and brings one hand to your chest, cupping your right breast over the dress. You whine in his mouth and he smirks. “I love those little sound you make for me… makes me wonder how you would sound when I-”

“Aemond, shut up and fuck me already” you interrump him in an irritated and desperate tone, catching him by surprise. He stares at you, mouth agape before grinning.

“Relax baby, I’m gonna do just that, but… you’re too dressed for my liking” his fingers start pulling the straps of your dress down. He lets out a gasp when he sees you naked, except for your lacy black panties. He stares at your tits and bites his lip, fingers pinching your nipples. “You’ve got beautiful tits, baby.” He immediately takes one of them in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the pebbled nipple, making you throw your head back and whine, your fingers tangling in his hair.

You grind your hips against his, trying to get some friction on your aching cunt. You’re sure you’re dripping by now, he’s got you like that since the moment he laid eyes on you. Aemond moves his hand down your body while he continues sucking on your nipple. When he finally gets to the place you needed him most, both of you release a moan.

“Fuck, you’re soaking wet.” Aemond says in a low and raspy voice when his fingertips meet the wet spot in your underwear. He kisses every inch of your skin before getting in between your legs and slides down your panties, pleased with the view of your glistening entrance. He traces two of his fingers along your slit, feeling your arousal coating them. “You’re fucking dripping on my fingers, baby. Hmm, the things I could do to this sweet pussy.”

You moan at his filthy words, breath heavy as you watch him kiss and nibble your inner thighs before giving your pussy a tentative lick, eyes set on you, revelling in the way you writhe and whine. Your hands tug at his hair instinctively as he gently sucks on your clit, then he licks the length of your cunt, his grunts sending vibrations all over you.

“Oh, f-fuck, yes” you squeal, eyes closed shut as he buries his face between your thighs, lapping at you eagerly, his nose rubbing expertly against your bud. He pushes you down with his arm when you start bucking your hips, preventing you from moving as he keeps feasting on your cunt. “Don’t— s-stop!” You gasp, back arching as pleasure invades your senses, the band in your stomach growing tighter.

“Y’ gonna cum, pretty girl?” Aemond murmurs around your clit, a small huff leaving his lips when your thighs wrap around his head, pulling him even closer. “C’mon baby, lemme hear you. Cum all over my mouth” He coaxes before sucking your clit again, swirling his tongue around the bud as you fall apart on his tongue, whines and high-pitched moans spilling past your lips. “Atta girl” he praises you as you try to recover from the mindblowing orgasm he gave you. He doesn’t stop sucking at your folds, the erotic slurping noises of his mouth making you blush, licking every single drop of your arousal. Aemond wipes his chin, coated in your juices, and hovers over you again, covering your face with kisses. “You taste divine, pretty girl. You did so good for me.”

He brings his arm above your head, fingers playing with your hair while his other hand gently squeezes your cheeks. “Open” you do as told and he spits in your mouth, you gladly swallow before he kisses you. You moan into his mouth when you feel his index and middle fingers tease your wet entrance. He pulls back to watch your reactions as he slides them in, gingerly moving them, curling them and reaching the rough patch inside you, making you gasp. He smirks. “That’s the spot, hmm?” Aemond finger fucks you, leaving open mouthed kisses along your neck and jaw. You breathe heavily, feeling another orgasm already building. “Fuck, can feel you squeezing my fingers, love. Let go, pretty girl.” His jaw drops open as he watches you come, groaning when he feels your cunt clenching around his fingers. Your lips form a perfect O shape, eyes closed shut and legs trembling. “You look so pretty when you cum, baby.”

When you open your eyes you find Aemond staring at you, a soft smile adorning his face. “There she is,” she caresses your cheek and you chuckle, bringing one of your hands to his boxers. He gulps when you start palming him, feeling how hard he is. He gets rid of his boxers and his cock springs out, the tip already leaking precum. You’ve never seen such a nice cock in your life, all you want to do is put your mouth on it. He reads your mind, once again. “You can suck me another day, all I want now is to bury my cock inside you. Is that okay, pretty girl?” You nod eagerly and sit on the bed, pushing him onto the mattress as you straddle him, taking him by surprise. “Well, well, well.” He chuckles darkly, feeling your hands travel all over his chest and abdomen. He reaches out for a condom in the drawer next to his bed, but you stop him.

“I’m okay without. I’m clean and on the pill, I really want to feel you” you bite your lip, hoping he says yes. Aemond smirks, telling you he’s clean as well, and you lean in for a tender, passionate kiss. You move one hand to grab him, slowly guiding him into your entrance. Both of you let out breathy moans when the tip slides in your wet cunt, stretching you.

“Holy s-shit” Aemond’s head is thrown back, jaw clenched and hands on either side of your hips, his fingers digging in. When you sink down onto him completely, you stay there for a moment, trying to adjust to his size. Your nails rake down his chest and he whines, eyes sweeping over your figure. His hands also travel through your body, up your thighs until he reaches your breasts, gently squeezing them. His hands are big, you noticed.

You start moving up and down his length, moaning and whimpering and head thrown back. “You feel so good, Aemond. Fuck” you murmur, bouncing on his cock. You feel him curse under you, his hips meeting yours in every thrust, filling you to the brim. You let out a particularly high-pitched moan when he brings one hand to your throat.

“Oh, you like that, don’t you?” Aemond rasps, licking his lips before applying more pressure, slightly choking you as you continue moving, increasing your pace. Your eyes roll to the back of your skull at the feeling of his hands wrapped around your throat, driving you closer and closer to your orgasm. “God, you’re squeezing so deliciously, sweet girl. Y’ gonna cum all over my cock, hmm?”

“Oh my God, yes, fuck, fuck, fuck!” You say through strangled moans, cunt clenching around him as you come, collapsing on his chest. He immediately wraps his arms around you as he keeps thrusting up into you, not letting you rest. He flips both of you over, fucking you slowly. You sob when his thumb circles over your sensitive bud, trying to squirm away. “T-too much, please.”

Aemond cocks his head and frowns. “Can’t take another one, huh? I thought you wanted me to fuck you, pretty girl.” He taunts, voice trembling as he ruts into you. You grasp onto his shoulders, nails digging into his skin and tears welling up in your eyes from the amount of pleasure and overstimulation you were receiving. “You can give me another one, baby, c’mon. I know you can” he coos, kissing and nibbling your neck.

He watches with a wicked grin as your mouth hangs open, whines and moans escaping and eyes fluttering when the head of his cock repeatedly hits your sweet spot. “Fucking come, baby, soak my cock.” Aemond commands. The squelching sounds of your cunt while he fucks you together with his praises and moans are enough to make the knot in your stomach finally snap. You moan his name loudly, your legs shaking around his waist.

In the back of your head, you hear Aemond grunting and growling, the sounds he makes are distant over the blood rushing through your ears; but you notice his thrusts becoming sloppier and his cock twitching inside you. “Fuck, fuck, baby, I’m gonna- fucking gonna cum.” That’s what brings you back to your senses, you open your heavy lidded eyes and watch him come. With a few more thrusts he spills himself inside you, coating your walls in warm spend. You’ve never seen nor heard someone come so beautifully, the sight was enough to make you let out a small moan.

His lips were parted, brows knitted together and body shaking above you. Aemond rests his head in the crook of your neck as you try to come down from your highs, embracing each other. You stay like that for a moment before he moves his head to look at you, small drops of sweat trickling down his forehead. You smile at him and close the distance by placing your lips on his, kissing him sensually.

After the make out session, Aemond pulls out of you slowly, hissing at the loss of contact. You bite your lip when you feel his cum leaking out of your pussy, he gathers it and presses it back slowly before giving a kiss to your centre.

He goes to the bathroom and brings wet cloths to clean you up, being careful not to hurt you. When both of you are done, he hands you your panties. You look too tired to stand up, but you know you have to go. After all, it was just a one night stand, and you have to work tomorrow.

“You can stay the night, if you want” Aemond suggests after putting on his boxers. He can really read your mind, it’s kinda creepy, you think. “I mean, it’s too late to go back to your apartment, plus there’s a storm coming.” He presses his lips, as if telling you that you had no choice but to stay.

After weighing your options, you decide to stay. He grins and hands you one of his t-shirts, so that you don’t have to sleep in your dress —or naked. You put it on, smelling the clean fabric and lie down on the comfy mattress, covering yourself with the soft sheets. Aemond lies next to you, and after wishing each other good night, you drift off to sleep.

The next morning, Aemond wakes up to the sound of his annoying alarm. He runs his hands over his face, and looks around the room when he doesn’t find you. A small yellow post it note on top of his drawer catches his attention. He reads it and smiles. You left your phone number and your name below.

“Thanks for an amazing night. Text me if you want to grab some coffee or if you want to do it again ;)”

taglist: @melsunshine @tsujifreya @fan-goddess

[azlrse]

➳ branded (a yandere d-16/megatron x cybertronian!gn!reader oneshot)

a/n: had a few hours of spare time and i gotta post this before i disappear again

cw: yandere themes, non-consensual branding, tf!one spoilers, fluff to angst, reader has pain receptors and it's kinda weak eeeee, i miss d-16 sm :crii

your friends knew you had this huge crush on a certain bot who had the same occupation as you. the way he talks about his idol, the way he looks after the others and you loved how much he checks up on you, reminding yourself to take good care of your spark since both of your occupation as miners is dangerous. the same way how much danger cybertronians were without energon.

you will never forget how shocked he acted when you first confessed your feelings for d-16 after learning you had this huge crush on him for quite sometime. You became quite happy and excited when he confessed that he felt the same way, adoring how you patched him up after he was injured in the mines and the way you became angry (in an affectionate way) for becoming wreck less (same goes for orion).

in d-16's eyes, you are an embodiment of his type of conjunx endura. aside from talking about megatronous prime, he constantly talks about his crush on this particular bot and had quite a temper. orion just laughed wholeheartedly and told his friend that he is not just having a crush but is in love with you. it was excruciating to say the least that two of his friends are quite oblivious to their antics and affectionate gesture.

it's not surprising from orion's reaction when you told him about d-16 being your boyfriend. he is proud that the both of you became each other's conjunx endura and prayed to primus that your relationship with him will provide the both of you with fulfillment, happiness and so much love.

you wished that so-called happiness lasted for an eternity, but it wasn't long when you and the entire miners knew about d-16's retribution against all types of authority, implying that he will lead all of your kind into a future he in visioned for himself. that wasn't until he was reprimanded by orion, now optimus, and banished him from iocon city. he was bewildered and looks at you for affirmation that he didn't do anything wrong. sad eyes gazed upon him as you looked away in sadness for what he had done.

megatron looks at you in disbelief, even felt betrayed that not only his best friend became a prime and betrayed him, but also you, his conjunx endura, turned you back against him.

'i will come back for you, (m/c)..' he muttered to himself as he and the other high guards falls back and went to the surface, didn't even turned his back to say good bye to you and you only remembered the way his bright red eyes looked at you and orion/optimus sharply and in anger.

as his figure became smaller and smaller, you felt your tears falling from your cheeks, holding back a sob as you stared at your junxie's figure became smaller until you saw nothing but the bright lights above. turning your back against orion, sobs began to escape from your throat as you felt elita's hand comforting you, reassuring you that d-16's gonna be okay and let him pursue his own path.

so you waited...

and waited...

and waited....

on the same spot he left you on the day he turned his back against optimus himself. many of your friends even checked on your well-being, became even more worried as you waited for days, weeks, even months for him to come back. you wished that he would return to you, abandoning his ideology that freedom and tyranny are just the same concept.

cycles went by and hope has diminished for your junxie to come back. you slowly moved on from him and even meeting other cybertronians, becoming friends with them and slowly discovering your new vehicle mode (in which you slowly became accustomed).

that wasn't until an attack broke out, screams echoed on each and every street as the seekers laughed maniacally when they destroyed everything they see; the streets, buildings, even putting the lives its citizens in danger. just like the others, you ran for your life, running towards the archives and screamed for optimus' help when a small boulder came crashing on your direction and felt a sharp pain on your head before everything goes dark.

but, wasn't that bee's voice you've just heard?? why is he screaming for your name?? and who's carrying you away??

you hoped that it's just ratchet carrying you to safety and aiding your wounds.

. ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .

fear was just a concept, a state of one's vulnerability when encountering their worst nightmare in front of your eyes. yours, however, is seeing him for the first time and felt true fear when his red eyes gazed upon your shaking form as soundwave and shockwave held both of your arms. you were trying to escape after you woke up from your slumber as you felt a throbbing pain on the side of your head and being chased around, only for you to be caught by them.

"t-there's been a mistake! i need to go home!" eyes of the decepticons stared at you like some kind of weakling. you begin to thrash around, trying to loosen the grip of the two cons who held you tightly. no luck, for they are far too strong for you. the tyrant didn't say anything but brought in something that made your eyes widen in fear.

"no..."

it's a branding iron with some kind of weird insignia, a symbol that soon everyone would fear. the way the smoke danced around the thick air makes your skin crawl as the iron moves closer and closer to you.

"NO!! I WON'T HAVE IT!! NOO!!" you screamed as you panic around, thrashing even harder in hopes that it would loosen the grip and giving you the time to escape this so-called nightmare. you will never forget how hard he pressed that iron against your chest, the way it sizzled and smoked when it comes in contact with your chest as the pain becomes even more unpleasant and unbearable to deal with. he didn't say much but watched in glee, seeing that insignia on your chest felt like you came back to him as your eyes began to slowly close due to how tired you felt, how you felt empty and numb from all of the ordeals you just went through.

your tears won't replace the bot you once loved. no matter much how much you screamed, you begged for him to let you go back to iacon city, how much you valued your freedom since you've gotten your t-cog back, he just won't let you go. even if he presses the hot branding iron into your chest as soundwave and shockwave held your arms as you thrash around, kicked your legs and screamed on how much the heat painfully branded your chest.

it's painful, just as how your throat burns from all the screaming and pleading for your own freedom being stripped down. as the new tyrant carried you away like some type of princess and away from the eyes of his new followers, sleeping away from the painful and traumatizing ordeal you just went through. he looked at you, soft eyes now replacing the hard and sadistic look he just exhibited moments ago as he cradled your body close to him. a small, chaste kiss he placed at the top of your head as he murmured after the kiss;

"i finally had you back, my conjunx."

and he plans on never letting you go again.

Do not republish, edit, or repost to other websites.

Reblogs and likes are appreciated! 💕

[vaguesxrrow]

hii! i was wondering if i could request a Dean Winchester x reader with an established relationship, and i had this prompt in my head [could possibly be used as future inspo's for you fics too if you'd like :>]

basically, the relationship between them is pretty new, like only a month or two new, and reader has claustrophobia, but never told him or Sam.

and for a case, they have to go into an elevator, which is fine, and reader seems to do a good job at pretending it doesnt freak them out that they're in a convined space (elevator is pretty tiny, even for elevator standarts)

but then it suddenly stays still, and gets stuck bc of electrical issues.

so now they're stuck in an elevator for who knows how long, and reader tries their best to stay calm, but Dean knows better and now that the elevator is staying still he notices the microexpressions, the panic, the fear.

and its just super fluffy with him helping reader deal with it untill the elevator is back on track

thanks! and have a great day!

i lovee all your requests sm, especially bc they challenge me to write new things <33 i rlly like how this turned out so i hope u do to !

dean winchester / claustrophobic!reader

a/n: i have no personal experience with claustrophobia but i researched it as much as i could. however sorry if it still sounds unrealistic !

cws: panic attacks, claustrophobia

wc: 785

tags: gender neutral reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, humour

"can we even fit in there?" dean asked dubiously, clearly unimpressed at the elevator that stood before you. "i mean, this has gotta be a health hazard, man, cause what is this?" he banged the doors as he stepped inside.

"it's fine, dean, stop being dramatic." you rolled your eyes, trying to fight the wave of panic (or was that vomit?) rising up inside you.

not letting yourself think about it any further, you stepped in after dean. at first, you thought it was just your claustrophobia whispering how this elevator looked like a death trap. but then your (wonderful, by the way) boyfriend dean had pointed it out himself, and wasn't that just awesome?

you weren't irritated at him, but at the situation itself. you and dean had only been dating for a month, and definitely hadn't reached the 'divulge your deepest fears and secrets to each other' stage.

you could tell dean about your claustrophobia now, but what else was there to do? the stairs in this building had been destroyed by the vampires you knew nested on the top floor.

in conclusion, the elevator was the only way.

determined, you punched the button to the 17th floor. this was fine.

dean prattled on about the job. something about 4 vampires, killing 3 residents until the others had to evacuate...

suddenly, the elevator groaned to a stop, on the 10th floor. you hit the buttons again. god, it had been going so well.

"what happened?" you asked. the lights began to flicker. "is there a ghost here, too?"

both of you scanned the area as best as you could, having to shuffle around awkwardly to look at the whole area.

"nah," dean finally said. "probably just electrical issues."

you sighed. "it's gonna be humiliating calling sam to rescue us."

"tell me about it." dean rolled his eyes, even as he dialed his brother's number. "yeah, sammy, [name] and i got into a bit of a situation... no, dumbass, we're not dying-"

you forced a laugh at the boy's banter, even as the walls seemed to be closing in on you. breathe in and out, you chanted internally.

"-if you could just come get us..." dean glanced at you, pausing in surprise for a second. "hey, sammy, i gotta go, just get here as quick as you can, would ya?" he hung up, tucking his phone back into his pocket. you were too focused on keeping your emotions in check to notice dean had become alerted to your subtle panic, and was now giving you his full attention.

"you okay, [name]?" he asked.

you forced a teasing grin. "fine, just wishing i had some fresh air to get away from your stink."

"that's a smooth evasion if i've ever heard one, but it ain't gonna work on me, hot stuff." he wiped away a miniscule bead of sweat from your forehead. "literally."

you closed your eyes. he had clocked you - no point in keeping up the act now, even if it was embarrassing.

"can i touch you?"

you nodded. he put an arm around your shoulder, his other hand lightly grasping yours. he guided it to his chest where his heart was. "you feel my heartbeat?"

you murmured an affirmation.

"alright, it quickened a bit there, but that's the effect you have on me." he winked. "how fast is it? does it match the.. what was it, bpm, of any song?"

you shook your head at him in confusion. "what?"

"answer the question, [name]." he rolled his eyes, flushing slightly.

you furrowed your brow as you thought. "wanted dead or alive, bon jovi?"

he smirked. "awh, that's awesome. now you get to bear witness to my rendition of it."

that alone was so unexpected it startled a laugh out of you. "excuse me?"

he began swaying, jostling you in the process. "you heard me. i'm a cowboy, on a steel horse i riiide." he spun around, although it was more of an awkward twirl. "i'm wantedddd..." he held out both hands to you, tugging you close when you took them. "dead or aliiiveeee!"

you snorted loudly at his attempt to hold the last note, and yelped in surprise when the elevator lurched back into movement. dean's hug tightened, steadying you.

"i must be one hell of a singer if that was all it took to get the elevator sorted," he remarked, looking hilariously proud of himself.

"that's one way to put it." your previous panic and embarrassment had dissipated, leaving only gratitude for your boyfriend. "thanks."

he kissed you briefly. "no problem. but can you imagine the look on sammy's face when he gets here and we don't need help anymore? ha, imagine that!"

[evieskiesss]

Can you do Tom x reader lemon? Pls xx💗

A LITTLE TROUBLE WON’T HURT- TOM KAULITZ

LEMON

LEMON MEANING: explicit sexual content but no DIRECT sexual acts.

𝙒𝘼𝙍𝙉𝙄𝙉𝙂𝙎: 𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙠𝙚𝙮 𝙠𝙞𝙣𝙠

a/n: YESS I LOVE THISSS. guys i have soo many requests, pls give me some time to do all of them. i would appreciate it sm if you’d like or share <3. i love u guys sm.

-

You moaned softly, lips parting as your head lolled back. Eyes fluttering shut before quickly closing your mouth, stopping yourself from moaning too loudly as his lips worked against your neck.

    He pulled away with a pop, kissing down before starting another mark. You whined softly, biting your lip as your hand caught his wrist. His fingers were caught in your hair, holding your head firmly to keep you from moving away from his attack.

     He nipped at your gentle skin, making you wince in pain, a reaction he loved getting out of you. He nipped again, harder, making you grunt, your neck quickly trying to move away as a reflex.

   "stay still," he grumbled, sucking on the skin. A small whimper came from you, your head coming to rest on his shoulder as a small way of extra comfort. His arm was strongly wrapped around your waist, holding you close to keep you from escaping.

    Your hands were pressed gently against his chest, one occasionally flying to his wrist anytime he'd bite too hard. He let out a satisfied sigh, pulling away only inches to admire his work.

     He tilted your head the opposite way, his lips quickly finding a clean spot to mark. You moaned the second he started sucking. He moaned against your skin, closing his eyes as he let himself do something he did best.

     He'd pull away, kiss the spot, nip at it, let his tongue tenderly rub the mark then repeat. Soft little noises left his mouth from the sucking, you were sure that your neck was completely purple.

   Really, it wasn't just your neck, it was your entire body. You knew Tom had a thing for hickeys, but you never knew the extent of it. In the beginning of the relationship, it started off small.

    A hickey here & there, sometimes adding one more. As time progressed, you became aware of his love for it. Having you hours there, holding you tightly as he sucked on your skin brought him great satisfaction. It satisfied him even more knowing you wouldn't be able to escape the questions of who it was.

     At some point, it wasn't purely sexual. You could be laying down and he'll just start marking you as a way to show his love.

     You didn't mind at first, but at one point, you had to mind when your makeup artists began complaining, truly complaining. It got to the point where your manager had to sit you down and say the words, "no.more.hickeys."

    You had been in enough trouble, having your makeup artists spend about an hour covering up your hickeys each time you'd go to an interview, be on stage, or go out in public. It was exhausting.

     He moaned again, suckling harder. You winced, biting your bottom lip. "t-tom, no more. p-please," your voice was small. He ignored you, kissing it before finding another clean spot, then suckling.

    You sighed with pleasure, your head falling back again as he drew you in with the good feeling. Your hands gently pushed at his chest, "p-please. i'm gonna get in trouble," you whispered.

    "a little trouble don't hurt," he whispered back, nipping. You tried again to move away, the grip on your hair momentarily getting tighter as he held you back, "stay still," he warned.

    You whined, but let him continue. He pulled away after a moment, slightly breathless as he softly kissed up your neck. "so beautiful," kiss, "always beautiful with what i give you."

     You felt drowsy, slightly drunk off the feeling of it but had to snap out of it. He kissed you softly, letting go of your hair to rub your thigh sweetly. He looked down to the flesh that was coated in dark marks, a smirk coming onto his lips.

     "tom, i'm gonna get in trouble," you pouted, looking at him your doe eyes. He shrugged, "it's fine, they'll get over it." A firm knock on the door startled you, "Y/N! Hair & Makeup is ready for you!" the voice called, followed by footsteps leaving.

    You gave Tom a look, his face sly as he knew what was about to happen. He helped you off the table, patting your ass as you grabbed your bag. He followed you to the door of your trailer, sneaking a kiss to you. "i'll be here when you're back," he winked.

    You walked to the brightly lit room, setting your bag down as you were met with three stylists. You hoped secretly that the outfit wouldn't be too revealing, you wanted to save yourself the trouble.

    "outfit is on the rack, hun. be quick, we have an hour," one of the stylists commented, her speech muffled slightly as she chewed on an apple. The three slipped out of the room, leaving you alone to dress.

     You stared at the clothing, "fuck."

           You kept a straight face when the three stylists stared at you dumbfounded, eyes wide and jaw clenched with anger as they noted, they were going to need more than an hour.

    The outfit was revealing, very revealing. With the outfit, you were unable to hide the marks given to you. They were scattered along your entire body, covering your thighs, hips, some of your abdomen & belly, your neck, shoulders and even some parts on your shoulder blades.

      You knew it was best to play nonchalant, making it known you had no time for their snarky remarks. The head one sighed silently, anger rising in her as she pulled out her much used color correcting palette.

    

        The door was knocked on again, "you were supposed to be done 15 minutes ago, what's taking so long?!" a man yelled from the opposite side of the door.

    "let us do our job here!" one of them yelled back, frustrated as she couldn't cover a hickey up. It had been mounted with concealer, color corrector, foundation & powder, but to her dismay, it was still there.

    She threw her brush, moving you hair to cover it. "just don't move your hair and we'll be good, got it?" she said through gritted teeth. You flashed her a smile, "yup!"

    Hopping out of your seat, you walked out and met the backstage crew that quickly mic'd you up. From the corner of your eye, you could see the backstage manager bickering with the stylists.

   The distant sounds were impossible to make out but their gestures told you everything. The girls pointed to their necks, thighs, shoulders, everywhere. One of them dramatically tapping her makeup brush on the back of her hand as she rambled angrily.

    You felt a tap on your shoulder, "ready to go." The cheers from the crowd erupted as you were called on stage, a smile on the interviewers face as you came on.

-

      You sat at home, nervously biting your nails as you scrolled through your laptop, head spinning with frustration at the new article that came out about you.

     𝗦𝘁𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗿 𝗬/𝗡 𝗟/𝗡 𝗔𝗻𝗴𝗿𝘆! 𝗔𝗿𝘁𝗶𝘀𝘁𝘀 𝗰𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗺 𝗟/𝗡 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝘁𝗼𝗼 𝗳𝗮𝗿 𝘄𝗶𝘁𝗵 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱, 𝗴𝘂𝗶𝘁𝗮𝗿𝗶𝘀𝘁 𝗧𝗼𝗺 𝗞𝗮𝘂𝗹𝗶𝘁𝘇!

     "these bitches," you muttered, scrolling down to read more. You shocked to say the least. While you were up on stage, having an interview, the stylists found the time to have their personal interviews as well with the media.

   

"𝗶𝘁'𝘀 𝗮𝗯𝘀𝗼𝗹𝘂𝘁𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗮𝗻𝗲!" 𝗼𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗿𝗲𝘀𝘀𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗶𝗿 𝗳𝗿𝘂𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻.

"𝗛𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝘆𝗳𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗴𝗼𝘁 𝘁𝗼 𝗯𝗲 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘁𝘆𝗽𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗩𝗮𝗺𝗽𝗶𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗼𝗶𝗻𝘁. 𝗜𝘁'𝘀 𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝘀𝘀𝗶𝗯𝗹𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝗴𝗲𝘁 𝗿𝗶𝗱 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗱𝗮𝗺𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝘆𝘀!"

𝗢𝗻𝗲 𝗼𝗳 𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘃𝗶𝗲𝘄𝗲𝗿𝘀 𝗮𝘀𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗺𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗺𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 𝗼𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘀𝗶𝘁𝘂𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻. 𝗜𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗬/𝗡 𝗟/𝗡 𝗵𝗮𝘀 𝗯𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗮𝘀𝗸𝗲𝗱 𝗿𝗲𝗽𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗱𝗹𝘆 𝘁𝗼 𝘀𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘆 𝗮𝘄𝗮𝘆 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗮𝗿𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀, 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝘀 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗲𝘁𝗲𝗹𝘆 𝗶𝗴𝗻𝗼𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗱𝘀

"𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆'𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲! 𝗵𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗻 𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝘆𝘀 𝗼𝗻 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗼𝗻𝗲'𝘀 𝗵𝗶𝗽𝘀?!"

𝗥𝗲𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝘀𝗸𝘀, "𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘆 𝗮𝗿𝗲 𝗼𝗻 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗵𝗶𝗽𝘀?"

"𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲!" 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗿𝗲𝗲 𝗴𝗶𝗿𝗹𝘀 𝗲𝘅𝗰𝗹𝗮𝗶𝗺.

"𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗻𝗲𝗰𝗸, 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗯𝗼𝗼𝗯𝘀, 𝗰𝗵𝗲𝘀𝘁, 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗺𝗮𝗰𝗵, 𝗮𝗯𝗱𝗼𝗺𝗲𝗻, 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘀, 𝘀𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗹𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘀, 𝗯𝗮𝗰𝗸, 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘆𝘄𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲!!"

𝗔𝗰𝗰𝗼𝗿𝗱𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝘀𝘁𝘆𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝘀, 𝗶𝘁 𝘁𝗮𝗸𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗺 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗮𝗻 𝗵𝗼𝘂𝗿 𝘁𝗼 𝗰𝗼𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲𝘀𝗲 𝘀𝗮𝗶𝗱 '𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗸𝗲𝘆𝘀'.

    You sighed, closing the laptop abruptly, rubbing your face. "bitches," you muttered. The comments were full of criticisms but to your surprise, some support as well.

    A soft pair of lips landed on your shoulder from behind, slow kisses comforting you. Tom wrapped his arms around you, kissing softly. You sighed, "they made an article-"

   "i know."

    You rolled your eyes, "everyone thinks-"

    "who's they?"

    You rolled your eyes again, "well, everyone-"

    "give me names." he said from behind.

     You sat speechless, trying to find names. You stuttered, trying to find specific names.

   He chuckled, "if you cant think of names, then you shouldn't worry about it." He hugged you tighter, "has your manager said anything?"

   You sighed, "no. i'm surprised, he would've called me by now."

     You could feel the smile on his lips, he turned you around, "see? i told you," he kissed you. You sighed into the kiss, his lips pressed against yours with passion.

    "a little trouble don't hurt."

-

another a/n: i hope you guys liked this! if you want more content of mine, i have soo much more on my wattpad! my username is: evieskiesss

i basically just upload some of my works on here but my main platform is wattpad! :)

[wosoragebaiter69]

they’re idiots

patri guijarro x fem!reader

request: here

A/N: i love patri sm, and again naturally if my writing needs to improve just gimme a shout

TW: mentions of panic attack

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

The game was won, it was a very nice win. A comfortable 9-1, and that was fine. What wasn’t fine however were the fans after the game. In one area in particular they just kept throwing shirt and anything for us players to sign. I see Patri, my girlfriend getting frustrated at everything that’s happening and it doesn’t take a genius to see how overwhelmed she is.

Over the past few weeks it seems that the hate towards her has become obscurely large. How could anyone hate her? Especially now that she’s just gone and scored two. As much as she likes to say it doesn’t bother her I know it does and I hate to see the way she loses confidence over meaningless peoples opinions.

I walk over to the section in which fans are screaming, at this point i’m not sure how we can call them fans if they act like this. Alexia and some of the others are kicking game balls into the crowd. I stand right next to Patri, placing my hand on her lower back. She looks surprised, but continues with the overwhelming amount of fans who came to watch.

Around 5 minutes later, I can’t stand to watch her practically near a panic attack. So I say goodbye to the fans and drag her into the tunnel with me, leading her toward an area where no one would be for the time being.

“Patri? Amor, can you look at me?” I whisper, touching her forearm softly. She hesitates and looks up.

It’s then that I can see how conflicted her eyes look, how they’re slightly covered in a layer of tears, how it looks like she’s struggling to breathe. I immediately know what’s wrong.

“Hey, hey. Sit down on the floor with me. Come on.” I guide her making sure her back is rested against the wall. She looks straight up at the ceiling, trying to keep her tears at bay. My heart breaks a little.

“Amorcita, breathe with me. Feel my heartbeat got it?” I take her hand and place it on my heart as I start making exaggerated breathing patterns to help get her back to reality.

“There you go, just like that. You’re ok, they can’t see you. They can’t harm you. It’s just me.” I notice by her movements that she’s coming back. Something which I smile lightly at.

“Gracias” She says so lightly that I can barely hear her. All I do is smile.

We sit against the wall, no words need to be said. Until Alexia in all her glory strides down the hallway in her white fit.

“Hola.” She greets with a smile coming to stand in front of us.

“I suggest you two get back to the changing rooms. Nearly everyone is there, they sent me looking.” She then shifts her focus to my girlfriend.

“Patri, I’m sorry you have to be dealing with all of this stuff. It’s not easy. Just try not to get too worked up. Only makes it worse for yourself.”

“Thanks Ale.” She looks up at the captain who smiles before heading back to the change rooms.

“Well, we should probably go. After our showers, we’ll go back to the apartment and I’ll take your phone.” She looks at me questioningly. “So you don’t go into a spiral of bad thoughts. I know how you are. I won’t let that happen. Ok?” She nods and I pull her up heading back into the changing rooms. The girls all look happy but also worn down, I can empathise with that from all the trainings and games we’ve done.

Still there is a slight buzz in the air after the impressive win. Even if some exhaustion is the cost.

- - - - -

When Patri and I arrive back home, I stick to my word and she hands me her phone reluctantly. I put both of our phones in my bedside drawer and arrive in the living room to be greeted with Patri on the couch, two glasses of water on the coffee table and one of the Hunger Games movies starting to play on the tv.

I walk over smiling and sit down on the couch cuddling into Patri who only smiles. This is a good way to end the day all things considered.

“Te amo, Patri.”

“Yo también te amo, cariño.” She kisses the top of my head, turning her focus back to the screen.

[heartsoji]

Hello. If Requests Are Open I Have One. Tsukishima, Suna And Kenma With A Reader Who Is Kinda On The Thicker Side (Thick, Not Chubby) So She Gets Sexualized And Catcalled A Lot

HQ BOYS WITH A CURVY S/O

a/n: yes! thank u sm for submitting a request ☺︎

warnings: swearing, guys (not the hq guys) way overstepping and making reader feel uncomfortable, fem reader

tsukishima, suna, and kenma x reader

TSUKISHIMA KEI

when something happens to you, he shows his protection subtly, but he really really cares about you

would attack the weirdos and people jealous of your body

he wouldn't be the "don't worry babe, i can fight" kind of attacking guy, but the "beat them up mentally until their spirit is broken" kind of attacking guy

you were doing your work diligently at your desk when suddenly, one of your male classmates stopped at your desk.

"goddamn, girl. being serious is great and all, but would it kill you to show a pained expression every now and then?" he rested his hand on your desk, covering part of your paper.

"pardon?" you asked, not quite comprehending.

"i mean," he smirked, "can't imagine what you'd be like under me if you're so serious all the time. have you ever even felt pain?" he paused. "i can show you great pain and pleasure, babe. just gotta say the word."

you froze, speechless. how were you supposed to respond to that? whilst you were trying to come up with a response, you saw kei getting up out of the corner of your eye.

"well, cutie?" your classmate grinned widely before sliding a finger down your back, making you cringe in disgust silently. "how about it?"

"i-"

"don't you have anything better to do?"

"huh?" the guy turned around to see kei towering over him, a nasty glare in his eyes.

"i said, 'don't you have anything better to do?' are you deaf, or just stupid?" kei asked, an annoyed expression present on his features.

"what the hell are you talking about? you're just a cocky brat, aren't ya?" the guy snarled. "man, i hate people like you. so much confidence with nothing to show for it."

kei paused. "i apologize. i was unaware that you hated yourself that much. things will get better, i promise." he mocked, patting the guys back, causing an angry vein to bulge out of the guy's forehead.

"haha, very funny." the guy muttered. "bitchy beanpole brat."

"alliteration! very good!" kei applauded with a smile before sending him a death glare that could freeze lava. "but seriously, are you such a loser that your ego won't allow a hit?" he then leaned into his ear. "she. isn't. interested. scram. you're just making a fool of yourself at this point."

the guy looked around and noticed everyone staring and whispering, clearly judging him for his creepy ways. he angrily stormed out of the classroom, with kei calling out a, "nice talk! let's do it again sometime," on his way out.

once the guy was fully out of the classroom, kei grabbed a chair and put it next to yours at your desk, plopping down his work as well.

"thanks, kei." you whispered a bit shakily.

he simply gave your hand a reassuring squeeze in response. "let me know if that loser gives you anymore trouble, ok?" he whispered back. "i'll beat him to a pulp." he followed up, a terrifyingly murderous intent in his eyes.

he then gave a smile, though it was still terrifyingly murderous-looking. "verbally, i mean."

SUNA RINTARO

another guy with a tongue that could slice boulders

hes not quite as mean tho, instead choosing to go with the more "protect my girl" stance rather than tsukkis "belittle them and make them feel like tiny little idiots who have no worth" stance

he'd try to embarrass the hell out of them

he's good at manipulating people, after all. he finds their weaknesses in an instant and uses it to his ultimate advantage

and also

he loves your curves

so

much

he'd definitely come over and like place his hand on your hip or ass or smth to mark his territory

bro hes the only one who gets to say how much he likes your ass?? um who tf is this other dude

he'd probs also try and cause a scene or incorporate humor to make you feel better

you were scared

a guy from the inarizaki cheering section had been staring at you ever since you entered

though you weren't absolutely positive, you felt like you could feel his eyes scanning your curves, and it made you feel like curling away in disgust

you'd lessened your cheering ever since you realized that the screaming made your tits bounce, and his eyes were practically burning a hole through them

once the game was over, you quickly dashed off from the stands to meet rin at the bottom, but the same guy met you down there

"so, hey, i was just thinking that you're like, really hot and have a great body, you know? and not to brag but i kinda have girls drooling on my abs left and right. if we got together, we'd be the ultimate power couple! whaddaya say, doll, hm?"

you scanned the room, looking for rin, but unfortunately, the coach was giving a talk, so rin wouldn't be able to come right away

"um, thank you for your offer, but i have a boyfriend." you politely declined.

he put his hand on your shoulder, and you could feel his thumb searching for your bra strap. you leaned away uncomfortably, but he gripped your shoulder and pulled you back.

"hey, now, its ok. don't think that i didn't see the way you were showing off these pretty assets of yours to me on the stands. you were practically shaking the things in my face! i can take a hint, you know. don't worry. i understand women. you were hinting at wanting to get with me, right? i get it! promise i won't be mad if we start dating the minute you break up with whatever loser you're with right now, doll. i don't need to wait."

"i-"

"hey, bun."

you whipped around to see suna rintaro not-so-gently shoving the guy off your shoulder and wrapping his arm around you, placing his hand right at the curve of your hip, giving you butterflies.

he directed his attention to the guy hitting on you. "'sup."

the guy stuttered for a few moments before regaining his cockiness. "this your girl? sorry, man, but she was actually just hitting on me. she aint loyal enough, i guess."

"the hell?! no i wasn-"

"she definitely wasn't." rin interrupted. "she'd never be into a piece of garbage like you."

a vein popped out of the guy's forehead. he grabbed the collar of rin's shirt.

"say that again."

rin opened his mouth, and for a moment, you thought that rin was going to retaliate, but instead, a piercing shriek ran through the air.

a baby's wail? a crying girl? a dropped mic? no, it was 6"1 inarizaki high middle blocker suna rintaro.

every head in the area turned, and suddenly, at the negative attention, the guy ran off in humiliation, calling out some insult towards you like "you weren't even that hot, by the way" on his way out.

once he was gone, suna picked you up and ran to somewhere with a bit more privacy

once he had found a spot he had deemed private enough, he engulfed you in the biggest, tightest hug, burying his head in your neck

"'m sorry that happened, bun." he murmured into your neck. "and 'm sorry that i interrupted you earlier, and i'm sorry that i wasn't there sooner, and im sorry that i didn't punch that guy in his pathetic, ugly-ass face."

you hugged him back. "it's ok, rin." you squeezed tighter. "i'm just glad you came."

"anyways, at any rate, he had no right to look in your direction, nonetheless insult you!" you felt his fists tighten. "pisses me off."

"and also," he added before moving his hand downwards to squeeze your ass, "i'm the only one allowed to call your body hot. everyone else can just fuck off"

you giggled and sighed into his locks. "ok, rin."

KOZUME KENMA

he wouldn't be one for words

he'd just glare daggers into the other guys body and then drag you away

he liked to call it a tactical retreat

"hey, what grade are you in?"

you looked up from your phone to see a group of what seemed to be some middle school boys circling around you, with what seemed to be their leader approaching you.

"pardon?" you were a bit taken aback. what was even going on?

"shy. cute, i'm into that." the boy smirked. "class 3-2, izumitate junior high soccer team captain, sato emiko."

you froze. junior high? you were being hit on by junior high boys?

you really tried not to, but suddenly, you burst out laughing. "sorry, sorry, but, well, junior high? i'm a 2nd year in highschool!"

you expected him to back down after that, but to your surprise, he kept going. "an older girl, huh.. well, it doesn't bother me if it doesn't bother you. and if im being honest, i don't see why it would." he grinned cockily. "i am a catch, after all."

"sorry, i'm not interested." you declined, trying not to break his junior high heart.

to your surprise, he smirked and started approaching you. how cocky was this kid, anyways?

suddenly, he grabbed a handful of your thigh, though he was quickly met with a slap from you.

"come on," he said, walking towards you. "i know you want me."

but before he could reach for a handful of tit, he was interrupted by kenma shoving his way through the crowd.

he gently took your hand and smiled softly at you before glaring daggers at the boy and walking away.

"h-hey!" the boy stuttered, clearly a bit flustered. "you can't just walk away! who do you think you are?"

kenma turned his head to give another death glare that definitely sent chills down that kid's spine. yeah, the boy would definitely see that in his next nightmare.

once you two were out of earshot, kenma turned to you. "hey, you ok?"

you smiled warmly. "yeah. thanks for getting me, ken."

he turned away. "they were just a bunch of cocky middle schoolers. honestly, where do they get the nerve?"

the rest of the way home, kenma added in abrupt complaints about what had happened throughout the conversation. though he didn't say it, you knew that he was actually kind of scared to grab you out of there, despite the fact that the boys were "puny" and "weak," as kenma had described. you knew that though he wouldn't say, he was worried about you and was caring for you, in his own, unique, kenma way.

[base0h]

Sorry if I bother you or send you something a bit suck but I wanted to know if it was possible to you to do a hcs (or other forma, it doesn’t matter) with shanks and mihawk with a s/o who can copying everything (Haki, Mouvement, Physic, Devil power fruit, Everything) thanks to a rare Devil fruit..? Than you if you make it and sorry if it’s not corespondent to your blog or rules. 🐙

a/n - watch shanks fall in love with himself 💀 I added Law bec why not 💜

Warnings ⚠️ - g/n reader, s/o has copy copy no mi (copy fruit)

- At first, he thought this was some twisted nightmare where he met himself… “Oh god. It’s me.” He was so disgusted 😭 he was also so embarrassed whenever you copied his abilities, hearing you say “room” and “shambles” made him reconsider what he named his techniques. 💀

- “Room…” -law “SHAMBLES!” -you

- “excuse me y/n. It’s my attack.” Man was offended, you literally interrupted him lmfao 😂 he was all like: bitch don’t take away my spotlight it’s the only thing I have

- “But it’s cool when I get to say it!” He also hates the way his voice sounds now because of this. Overall, he’s very embarrassed of himself, so as a result, you do not use your ability around him much. BUT- he does appreciate it when the marines start targeting you instead of him 🤭

- “LAW. HELP!��

- “Huh? I’m not Law wdym?”

- “YOU EMO MOTHERFU- I WILL THROW AWAY YOUR GERMA 66 FIGURES.”

- “NO-!”

- (ahem, I will calm down)

- enjoys it but also REALLY hates it at the same time. Perona gets you two confused all the time, she’ll ask you where Mihawk’s wallet is and you have to remind her of your abilities. “HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW WHEN YOU BOTH LOOK EXACTLY THE SAME?!”

- “Scars on the back are a swordsman’s shame!” You said, holding Mihawk’s sword in front of a pirate who had tried to take over the island. Your physique and features were perfect, an amazing copy of Dracule Mihawk himself

- “Y/n, I do not say that. The young roronoa says that. If you do something, get it right.” He said, sipping his wine while reading a newspaper under his umbrella. You glared at the man, turning back into your normal self before shoving the pirate off the island with ease

- “Can you at least admit that I am literally a perfect copy of you-?”

- “No, because you’re not.”

- “Why are you so difficult?”

- “Why are you so talented in things that do not matter?”

- “…You think I’m talented? 😖🥹”

- shanks absolutely adores the fact that yo have this ability. It makes for amazing party tricks! Turn into Uta and sing a beautiful song? Easy. Turn into Rayleigh so you can scold him? Hell yeah.

- you turned into him one day, and he was impressed. With himself 💀 “Damn- I look good!” -_- You had enough of him looking at you and complimenting HIS looks. So you turned into Rayleigh, and that my friend, is how you get your red haired man to shut the fuck up.

- “Shanks, do the dishes before I punch you.”

- “Yes sir.”

- man is deathly afraid of Rayleigh’s punch- 🤪 so everytime he starts fo be rude in any way, you turn into Rayleigh, it always works! Except turning into the dark king isn’t exactly great for camouflage against marines.

- they ended up seeing you and chasing you around since you looked like Rayleigh. “I’m not Rayleigh! I’m y/n l/n of the red haired pirates!” They stopped in their tracks, “Y/N L/N! THE LEGENDARY PIRATE?! GET THEM!” That plan of yours severely backfired, they ended up calling reinforcements.

- “Rayleigh you need some help down there?” Shanks asked with the literal most smug grin on his face. You got the best idea, while the marines were confused, you turned into a random soldier to blend in. They then caught sight of shanks and started going after him instead. Man did not think to argue with you ever again.

- “Baby I’m sorry 😭 please don’t ignore me I need love.”

don’t give him hugs

a/n - I loved this idea sm 🤭

[lunarw0rks]

hi!! i absolutely love ur work and ur most recent fic absolutely ripped my heart out 😭 i was wondering if u could maybe do a simon x reader where y/n has a panic attack from their nightmares (can be abt anything) and ghost helps them calm down and is just there for them with a lot of fluff? thank u so much!!

A/N: i love this type of fluff sm <3 out of all of them, he would understand what it's like to suffer panic attacks and nightmares :(

Summary: When you suffer a nightmare that then turns into a panic attack, Ghost comforts you.

Warning(s): GN!reader, depictions of panic attacks/nightmares, hints at ghost's trauma, brief gun mention, established relationship, domestic!simon, fluff | Word Count: 971

꒦꒷ MAIN MASTERLIST ꒷꒦ GHOST MASTERLIST ⋆ ⚘ 🕊 ˚✧ ₊˚ʚ PART TWO // requests | ao3 ver.

Bad Dreams | Drabble

When Simon came back from his deployment, it wasn’t always warm welcomes and pillow talk. He was usually too exhausted to change clothes or make it up the stairs for that matter.

After a quick embrace at the door and a cheap takeout dinner—he was out cold on the couch, snoring away in some god-awful position.

You were used to this by now, and you understood how drained he would be after months away. Of course, when you went to sleep that night you wished he was there next to you. You only had so long together before he’d be shipped off somewhere again, and for who knows how long.

Nightmares got more frequent, especially the longer he was away. They always gave you a sense of dread, and waking up to the empty space beside you only made them worse. The one you had tonight was especially chilling.

You felt like you were being pulled every which way, and whatever was chasing you was too fast for you to get away from it.

Most frightening, you had the sense Simon was watching you being pursued and had no intention of helping you. His eyes were cold, unlike any look he’d ever given you. He looked as if he was merely enjoying the show of you defenseless and fleeing from your attacker.

When you’re finally gaining some speed, the attacker catches up with you. As you’re being whipped around to face them, you jolt awake.

Downstairs, Simon’s eyes opened when he heard the gasps from upstairs. He crept down the hallway and grabbed the pistol he kept on the hallway table. He braced himself for anything when he peeked inside the bedroom, instantly placing the gun down when he saw you.

He knew that look all too well—bloodshot eyes frantically darting around, tear-stained reddened cheeks, and the wheezes escaping your trembling lips.

You still hadn’t come awake fully. The blurriness of your vision rendered you unable to comprehend what was real and what wasn’t. Usually, you’d wake up from these nightmares, toss and turn for an hour, and find yourself back asleep.

This was different. You were in full-blown panic, and you weren’t able to snap yourself out of it.

Simon's hands found you, gently holding your wrists so you didn’t hurt him or yourself with your panicked haze.

He didn’t want to smother you with an embrace and risk making things worse. Although he knew the by-the-book instructions on how to help you, inside his head, he was filled with unease.

Had you suffered like this before while he was away? Was it his own problems rubbing off on you, like the prospect of him never coming home one day?

You felt yourself become a bit more grounded when he constricted your wrists, but mentally you were still running off the adrenaline. You blinked away your tears, finally able to see him sitting at the end of the bed, his brows furrowed in tenseness.

“You’re alright…” He wanted to sound reassuring, but even he was unsure of that.

Your hyperventilating turned into low, rapid breaths slowly but surely. He sat there as long as you needed him to, just studying your body language to make sure you wouldn’t have another attack.

He released your wrists and placed a hand on your cheek, rubbing away one of the stray tears. “Should’ve told me you were struggling like this, love…” He whispered, both lovingly but firmly.

“They’re usually not this bad.” You muttered, feeling slightly embarrassed at the fuss. It wasn’t his fault, or anyone’s for that matter. It was just your anxiety getting the better of you.

“Don’t excuse it,” he forced you to look at him, giving you a pleading look to be let in. “I’m not upset, but you need to tell me things like this. Don’t want you passing out on me.”

You swallowed away the lump in your throat, leaning closer to him. He took that as his invitation to finally embrace you, placing a tight hand around your waist as you buried yourself into his large chest.

“You were tired… and there are bigger things than my night terrors, Simon.”

He pulled your head out of his chest, locking eyes with you once again. It was that look. The look he gave you when he was at a loss for words, and his eyes were convincing enough words for you. Stern, protective, but tender.

He left the bedroom without saying a word, which made you think your words angered him. You tightened your brow when his shadow disappeared down the hall, now feeling more ashamed than before.

Not a minute later, he came back with a glass of water clutched in his fist, and he watched you drink it until you finished the whole thing. As soon as you set it down on the nightstand, he crawled atop you, using the pressure of his frame as a way to cage you in.

“Nothing’s more important than you, ‘doesn’t matter how tired I am.” He muttered, staring directly down at you, as if confining you to him would force you to believe his words.

He leaned down and pecked your lips, then trailed a few down your neck, before rolling over onto his side of the bed. He traced his fingers down your forearm, stopping when he intertwined them with yours.

“We’ll continue this conversation in the morning.” He spoke playfully, pressing his lips to your shoulder blade.

With him beside you, it didn’t take long to fall back into slumber. His body was like your own personal furnace, especially when he was clutching you so tightly.

He waited until your faint snores filled the room again, using that as his signal to finally get a good night's rest, not letting go of you for a second.

[baileypie-writes]

I love coming up with ideas sm. This is one where the preteen!sister gets into a fight at school, and the reason is because the kid said: "That's why your siblings went to jail, they probably couldn't bear to see you anymore." And the sister basically LAUNCHES at the kid, and beings fighting them. (Pulling hair, punching, biting, etc)

And Velvet and Veneer are called down to the school since the parents are at work, and how they would react? (Oneshot please!)

Another Idea is that the preteen sister starts to mimic what she the older people do at school, like cuss, and have emontial outbursts, and what Velvet and Veneer would do to handle it. Also when the parents scold the sister, Velvet and Veneer stick up for her?

You can pick which one to do :)

(also I LOVE your blog sm)

A/N ~ I decided to do the first idea:) Hope you enjoy!

~You Did Nothing Wrong~

Velvet and Veneer + Preteen!Younger Sister!Reader

Fandom: Trolls 3: Band Together

Relationship: Familial

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Synopsis: Velvet and Veneer get called to your school in response to you getting in a fight.

Warnings: Violence(punching, hitting, scratching), a bit of blood, swearing

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you for coming, Velvet and Veneer. I do wish your parents were able to make it, but hey, work is important.” The principal said as the twins took their seats across from his desk. You sat in the corner, arms crossed.

“So what exactly happened? You said that (name) got in a fight? Is she okay?” Veneer asked, concerned. He and Velvet looked your way, but you just stared at the floor.

“She’s fine. But the other kid… not so much.”

“What do you mean?” Velvet asked.

The principal sighed. “I’ll try to spare you the… bloody details, but basically, (name) attacked him. He ended up with many bruises, a black eye and a broken nose.”

Velvet and Veneer were stunned. They flipped their heads over to you, but again, your eyes remained glued to the floor.

“Why would she do that? That doesn’t sound like her at all!” Veneer stated, still looking at you.

“We don’t know. She won’t tell us.”

Veneer hummed, lowering his head to try to get a look at your face, but to no avail.

“Well, it had to be for a good reason. (Name), tell us what happened.” Velvet said, moving her seat to face you.

You slowly looked up. Your eyes were red and puffy, obviously from crying. With a sigh, you started telling them.

~~~~

It was lunch time, and you were on your way to the cafeteria. You recognized a specific boy standing by the lockers, and averted your gaze, praying that he wouldn’t see you. Unfortunately, your prayer was rejected.

The boy’s name was Zack. He’s always been mean to you, calling you names and whatnot. But a few weeks ago, he found out that you were related to Velvet and Veneer. Since then, he would not stop teasing and insulting you. He’d claim that you’re evil, just like them. And that you probably have a troll collection at home. You try your best to avoid him, but he always manages to find you.

“Hey, troll-napper!” He called out to you. You scoffed at the stupid nickname. Keeping your eyes forward, you ignored him.

“I heard your siblings got out of jail not too long ago.”

You stopped for a millisecond at the mention of Velvet and Veneer. But you quickly continued walking, trying not to engage.

“Must be pretty hard having to deal with you’re annoying ass all day. You know what? That’s probably why they went to jail. They couldn’t bear to see you anymore.”

That was it.

You launched yourself at him, knocking him to the ground. You threw a fist against his face, hitting him right in the nose. Blood ran from it immediately, and Zack cried out in pain. You didn’t stop there. You punched, hit and scratched him until his cries for help were heard.

~~~~

“So that’s what happened.” You finished the story.

Velvet and Veneer were in shock. The principal was clearly shaken too.

“So basically, you attacked him because he was bullying you?” Velvet asked, anger rising.

You nodded, looking down again.

“How long has he been mean to you?” Veneer asked.

“A few months.” You responded.

“Have you told anybody about him?”

“I tried telling teachers, but they didn’t do much.”

“But you must understand, (name), that violence is not the answer.” The principal stated.

Velvet turned her attention towards him. “But you heard her, no one did anything to help! Sometimes, telling someone to leave you alone doesn’t work, so you gotta knock it into them!”

The principal sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is why I would’ve preferred your parents to come.” He mumbled. “(Name) is suspended for the rest of the week. And she will have detention for three weeks after that.”

“And what about the boy?” Veneer asked.

“What about him?”

“How long will he be suspended?”

“Zack isn’t being suspended.”

“Okay, well how long will he have detention?” Velvet chimed in.

“He won’t be having detention either.”

Veneer stood up. “So what you’re saying is: you’re not going to punish a boy who’s been bullying an innocent girl for months?” He was clearly getting angry, Velvet as well.

“Look, the poor boy had his nose broken-“ The principal started.

“So? That doesn’t matter! He’s a bully! Are you really gonna let a bully go unpunished?” Velvet said, volume rising.

The principal gave no response, and but his face didn’t spark hope for any form of justice.

“C’mon (name), let’s go.” Velvet said, grabbing your backpack from the floor, and placing it in your arms. You got up, and took hold of Veneer’s hand, which he had offered to you.

“Wait-“ The principal put his hand out, trying to stop you.

“Oh, no. We’ve had enough of your shitty system. We’re leaving” Velvet yelled. Then all three of you went out the door, not looking back.

Once you were in the car, you finally broke down. “I’m sorry!” You cried, trying to stop the tears that rolled down your face.

“Hey, you did nothing wrong. In fact, you taught that boy a lesson!” Velvet defended you, her hand on your shoulder.

“Yeah! That principal is nuts. Let’s get outta here.” Veneer added, backing out of the school parking lot.

You smiled. You may be suspended, and will have a few weeks of detention, but at least your favorite people are on your side.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~~baileypie-writes

[banquetwriter]

I saw you were taking requests for Carl grimes so maybe a fluff with Carl and reader who has ADHD and they’re in Alexandria but she’s like hella overstimulated and overwhelmed because everybody and everything’s new and like “better” and she genuinely just does not know what to do with herself. You don’t have to do this btw! Have a wonderful day/night!

୨୧ Breathing ୨୧

pairing: Carl Grimes ♡︎ Fem!Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ crying, some angst, one mention of sex (incredibly mild) small mentions of canonical violence, reader has panic attack

summary: ʚ after being overwhelmed your favorite grime’s comforts you ɞ

Words: 1374

AN: RAAAHHH thank you sm for the request, i tried to focus on how i personally feel when i get overwhelmed and overstimulated. i didn’t make her very bubbly or stereo typically “adhd” however i tried to model it after mine lol

You hated everything about the apocalypse. You hated never feeling safe, never having enough food, and never being clean ever. You hated being on the run always. You fucking hated it.

But still, you found yourself anxious. A nice woman named Deanna sat you down and Interviewed you. Your heart was racing, it had been for a long time. It was the same feeling you felt being adopted by Glenn and Maggie, the unofficial daughter of the couple.

Feeling like you might start crying but you can't pinpoint your feelings. Being so light-headed the air feels like it is made out of cotton candy. You had stayed quiet to avoid any meltdowns in front of anybody.

You had been assigned one big house. Michonne and Rick take one room, Daryl another, and you bunker with Judith. You found her little coos and cries comforting sometimes. They grounded you when you felt clueless.

Judith and most importantly her brother Carl were what got you through everything. Glenn’s death, a man who was your father. Carl had since you got to the prison. It was hard not to fall in love with him. Even if it wasn't the right time or place. You couldn't help it.

It's how you accepted the prison. It's how you accepted what happened at Terminus, and it was going to be how you accepted this new world you found yourself in. Carl got his own room. You weren't upset by it.

He needed his space. He had been through too much. It was after dinner. You were sitting on the stairs. It was all too much. It was going to go away at some point…

You knew it. Nothing was safe forever. You knew that, you weren't some stupid child. The feeling was back of unintelligible panic. The feeling of horror creeping up your throat. The dizziness, and now you couldn't help but cry.

The cool air of the nighttime clung to your skin. You were sweating even though the night was cold. Hot tears streamed down your face. How could you help these people? How could you possibly help? Hell, you were fear-stricken over being someplace new.

You let out a sob you had been holding in for weeks. Everyone was in the house either cleaning up or windowing down for bed. You told them you needed to go on a walk before bed.

‘You were too restless’ that's what you told them. But here you were sitting down on the steps. A full belly, sobbing your eyes out. Carl had noticed of course he had.

You heard the door close behind you. You stood up, the hot tears still streaming down your face. “Hey, woah,” Carl said, clicking the door shut and walking up to you. You couldn't say anything, fear holding your heart.

You speedily tried to wipe the tears away from your face. His hands come down to your shoulders. His fingertips ghost your skin and shirt. “I-I'm sorry,” you mumble out before the tears start spilling from your eyes again.

“Hey hey hey,” he whispers, pulling you into his chest. His strong hand finds its way to the back of your head, the other snaking around your torso. There it was again. His heartbeat thumped through his chest reaching your ears.

“I'm scared,” you whispered. He pulls away from you keeping his hands secured on you. “I-I know you are y/n. I am too. But it's going to be ok, trust me.” he said, his hand coming up to your chin and holding it up. “How do you know we are going to be ok?” you ask, shaking my head.

“I just know,” he said, his voice soft and comforting. “Because I am here. Because you're here with me.

Judith is here, so is my dad, Michonnee, and Daryl…” he said. “We are all here with you. I know how scared you are because-” he started. He shifted his weight on his feet.

You looked up at him. Your eyes are full of tears. The sight alone broke his heart. He promised himself he would always protect you. After you got separated from the prison. He was never ever letting you out of his sight again.

“Because I'm scared too. This place could fall, or not be safe. I'm scared too.” he says leaning much closer to you. “That's not it. It's all so new. Everything is better. I don't even know what to do. I don't remember how not to be so broken.” you whispered.

Your words hit like a confession to a preacher. “Y-Your not broken,” he said trying to comfort you. “No Carl I am. I think we all are. And I don't know how I'm going to do this.” I said, feeling the tears start to slip out.

“You don't have to do this alone, or even right now. Taking it one day at a time would be a good place to start,” he said, trying to wipe your tears away. “Ok.” is all you said, the heat radiating off of him calming your rapid and hyper thoughts.

“Tonight, how about you sleep with me? In my room?” he asks. “Really? What about Judith, what would your dad and Michonne say?” you ask, pressing your body against his. Time seemed to stop. His blue eyes shine into your soul.

“We can keep Judith in there too. Two people watching her is safer anyway. And don't worry about my dad ok? I will talk to him.” he says, moving both of his hands to your cheeks. Placing a small kiss on your forehead.

You swore you could feel your heart soar high above all the clouds and skies. You silently nod your head, “Go and get ready for bed and meet me in my room ok?” he says nodding towards the house. You smiled walking in.

The group looked as you rushed past them. Carl followed suit walking into the house. His hands were on his hips. “Y/n is going to stay with me tonight. In my room.” Carl said, looking at his dad.

Michonne’s eyebrow shot up. She looked at Judith with a smirk and turned around leaving the boys to discuss. “Carl-” Rick says in his stern voice. “It's not like that Dad,” he says, putting his hand out. Rick’s head turned to the side.

“She is scared, Dad. And I made a promise to protect her. She doesn't trust this place yet. I'm not gonna let her go.” Carl says, his face staying stern. He wasn't going to take ‘no’ for an answer. You were all that mattered to him right now.

Rick rubbed his chin, “Look alright. She can stay in your room as long as you take Judith with you.” he said, walking up to his face. Rick used his pointer finger and used it to tap his son's chest. “If I hear any funny business-” he says in full seriousness.

“Ew. Gross dad.” Carl says, rolling his eyes. Walking past him and running up the stairs to the bathroom. He gave a small knock on it. He heard your voice waver out a Small “Yes?” he smiled.

“It's me, Carl. You ready for bed?” he asked you. “A-Almost. Got distracted again,” you shouted from the bathroom. Carl felt his smile grow wider. “I'm gonna put Judith down now ok? Join me when you're ready,” he says, starting to walk away.

“Ok! Thank you!” you shout from the bathroom, continuing to get ready to sleep. Carl brought his baby sister and a crib into his room. Making it all nice for her. That's when you walked in. You were so beautiful.

In a plain new outfit. Eyes red and puffy from crying. You still were the prettiest thing he had ever seen. You silently sat on the bed. Carl smiled at you, something you returned. He took his hat off, placing it on the bedside table. He crawled on the bed and behind you. Beckoning you to join him under the covers.

Something you did with ease. The comforting smell of Carl Grimes fills your nose. As his hands snake around your torso to hug you. His nose gently rubs against your neck.

“I love you.”

[solarwoniii]

reaction to you sending him nudes out of nowhere ! zb1 legal line

nsfw, suggestive, crack, smau ! includes jiwoong, zhanghao, hanbin, matthew, taerae and ricky

includes ; mature/sexual themes, pet names, mentions of bdsm and punishments, uhmm daddy kink is mentioned in jiwoong's

a/n ; girl idk what this is i was so bored pls enjoy

taglist ; @hunbun07

jiwoong ;

📨jiwoong ; babyyy hi

📨jiwoong ; did u have dinner yet ♡

📨y/n ; yes i did !!!

📨y/n ; *attachment ; one photo*

📨y/n ; urs is waiting for u at home

📨jiwoong ; WOW.

📨jiwoong ; I WAS BEING NICE. WAS THE RANDOM ATTACK NECESSARY 😤😤

📨y/n ; no it wasnt im sorry daddy 😔

📨jiwoong ; WOW.

📨jiwoong ; WOWOWOOWWOWOOWOWOWWOW.

📨y/n ; sooo am i getting tied up today orrr 😶

📨jiwoong ; JUST tied up?????

📨jiwoong ; U ARE GETTING SO MUCH MORE THAN JUST TIED UP

📨jiwoong ; GET URSELF READY U ARE DEAD

📨y/n ; i am ready 😋🤪

zhanghao ;

📨zhanghao ; BAAAAAAAAAAAABE

📨y/n ; yes

📨zhanghao ; hi 😊

📨y/n ; hi 😊💗💗

📨y/n ; *attachment ; one photo*

📨zhanghao ; oh.

📨y/n ; 😘

📨y/n ; how screwed am i

📨zhanghao ; very screwed ! 😊 hope ur excited to get ur guts rearranged 💗

hanbin ;

📨hanbin ; bbg 😔😔😔

📨y/n ; EXCUSE YOU SUNG HANBIN.

📨hanbin ; IM SORRY

📨hanbin ; i miss u sm UGH i have a meeting soon i dont wanna gooooooo

📨hanbin ; can i have a photo of u so i can survive 😔💗

📨y/n ; ofc u can here :)

📨y/n ; *attachment ; one photo*

📨hanbin ; NAH.

📨hanbin ; U FOUL FOR THAT

📨hanbin ; NOW I HAVE TO SIT THROUGH MY MEETING WITH THAT IN MY MIND

📨y/n ; have fun at ur meeting baby 😊😊😊 love uuuu

📨hanbin ; U SUCK

📨y/n ; suck what 😶😶

📨hanbin ; FUCK U

📨y/n ; pls do 😊

📨hanbin ; OH MY GOD

📨hanbin ; I HATE YOU SO MUCH

matthew ;

📨matthew ; BAE

📨y/n ; BAE

📨y/n ; HELLO

📨matthew ; hiii

📨matthew ; i miss u :(

📨y/n ; :((( i miss u too

📨y/n ; *attachment ; one photo*

📨matthew ; .

📨matthew ; ure so mean.

📨matthew ; im never speaking to u again i hate u

📨y/n ; oh ok

5 MINUTES LATER . . .

📨matthew ; uhm so

📨matthew ; im still not speaking with u

📨matthew ; but are there possibly more from where that came from 😖😞

📨y/n ; hmm

📨y/n ; possibly

📨matthew ; OMG

📨matthew ; if u send me another i will speak to u again !!!

📨y/n ; *attachment ; one photo*

📨matthew ; YAYAYAYAYAY

taerae ;

📨taerae ; BABY did u see the food i left for u in the kitchen ??

📨y/n ; YES I DID THANK UUU I LOVE U

📨taerae ; 🫶🫶 im finishing a few more papers rn as soon as im done ill get omw home

📨y/n ; oh

📨y/n ; is that going to take long

📨taerae ; a little bit 😞😔 im sorry

📨y/n ; would u like some bribery

📨taerae ; huh ?

📨y/n ; *attachment ; one photo*

📨taerae ; IS THAT MY SHIRT

📨y/n ; 🤪 maybe

📨taerae ; @??@?@?@??1!?!?@??@?@/.?>@?>@>?@?>?@>?1.>?@

📨taerae ; I AM

📨taerae ; ON MY WAY

📨taerae ; RIGHT

📨taerae ; NOW

📨taerae ; AS WE SPEAK

📨taerae ; IM COMING HOME

📨taerae ; TEN MINUTES

📨taerae ; ILL BE THERE

ricky ;

📨y/n ; HOW MUCH LONGER

📨y/n ; UNTIL YOURE HOME

📨ricky ; an hour

📨ricky ; WHY

📨ricky ; IS SOMETHING WRONG

📨y/n ; YES

📨y/n ; im lonely 😔

📨ricky ; oh

📨y/n ; WHAT is me being lonely not enough for u to care 😔💗

📨ricky ; no not really

📨y/n ; WOW

📨y/n ; OK

📨y/n ; THEN I GUESS I WONT SHOW U THE REST OF THE PICS I TOOK TODAY

📨y/n ; *attachment ; one photo*

📨y/n ; THERES THREE OTHER PHOTOS

📨y/n ; BUT YOURE BEING MEAN SO YOU DONT GET THEM 😡

📨ricky ; NO

📨ricky ; IM SORRY

📨ricky ; PLS

📨ricky ; I CARE SO MUCH THAT U ARE LONELY AND I LOVE U SO VERY MUCH 💗💗💗

📨y/n ; 🙄

📨ricky ; NOOOOOOOOOO