#but I really wanted her death to not make a lick of sense
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Now presenting: Lucid (she/they)
She's a Seer.
Working for the Sodality.
Disguises herself as a dreamwalker.
She speaks in mostly a whisper because she always has a fucking headache.
Headphones are always on her head.
The way she dies is a bit confusing to her and she has yet to understand it so she takes time out of her day to dissect it.
Because why is there fog and why was she on a boat?
#my food is on its way so I'm gonna stop here#but isn't she just adorbs#lol#I wish I had blue hair#but life is cruel and sad#she's like an idiot#idk how visions work for seers#but I really wanted her death to not make a lick of sense#and to be spontaneous#redacted audio#redactedverse#redacted asmr#redacted sona#redacted oc#I shoukd make a tag for her huh#lucid dreams#that's stupid#but maybe#lucid can be creative!!#idk why I didn't make an art tag for myself#it would help loads#she's not a fortune teller#I just thought fortune teller = seer#sort of
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i would LOVE to read your vision of boyfriend by dove cameron....... but w minsung x reader đ
OH MARSYYYY marsyyyy ajdbkskfla youuu how dare youu take my sleep away from me like thisssss kabfoqbfoskj i barely got to 300 words and i was like âyup. thereâs no fucking way iâm not writing this.â so @lyramundana @stayconnecteed, pasarla muy bien mis amores bskdbakd id a la iglesia despuĂ©s
đđđđđ-đđđđđđ đđđđđđđ.
sum. gentlemen like them make for a better boyfriend, and minho and han will let you know as soon as you come over⊠they know first times pave the way for more.
yes, the cursive makes a cute lil sentence, kill me
wc. 5.6k (me cago en todo mars)
cw. suggestive, smut! cursive: a lifestyle, the restaurant scene came out really high-class? fem!reader x dom!simp!minho x sub!needy!jisung, the reader is cheating on her boyfriend, so many things happen (praise, degradation, hair pulling, thigh riding, dry humping, oral fixation, marking, mild choking, corruption kink, use of pet names, accidental orgasm denial, oral (f rec.), begging, fingering (f&m rec.) dirty talk, overstim, mild bondage, unprotected piv sex [don't!<3], creampie, breeding kink, dacryphilia). holy shit this is nasty man, aftercare (mandatory) and just have fun lovelies <3<3<3
[đ â đœïž â đ]
Minho has to breathe in, slowly as he smiles, a cat-like grin that has already threatened many peopleâs hearts, grabbing Jisungâs wrist and pulling him a bit closer.
His company that night âhis company forever, if anyone bothered to ask or wanted to knowâ doesnât ask why, merely tilts his head, watching, waiting.
âTwelve oâclock. Red and white dress.â
Itâs a mumble that the older man makes with his eyes half closed, yet he opens them again after a beat of silence. He grunts, a low, whispered voice, not daring to interrupt the shy flow of music in the fine restaurant, but still takes Hanâs chin in his hand, gripping it softly and tilting it a bit further to his left.
âThatâs more like one oâclockâ oh.â Minho doesnât dare voice nor even question the way blood rushes to the deepest parts of his body when Jisung licks his lips and stares back at him, lowering his hand with a gentle touch that sets his skin ablaze.
He canât help but let his eyes trail towards your figure again. The dress youâre wearing, a mix of colours that gingerly combines with that of their own suits, that clings to your shape in a way that threatens his own sanity and the stability of their plan, the impulse of running to you head first wondering what the crash would feel like. He stops himself, and breathes in again, deeper this time in an attempt to stop wondering how the dress would look just a few floors over them, in their hotel room, preferably on the floor, and he finally does, catching the faint scent of Jisungâs new cologne.
Alone. Itâs funny to him. Ridiculous, yes, because only a fool would leave such a beauty like you in a situation like that âon your own, waiting in boredom close to death, or even worse, resignationâ, and heâs sure that if he were in your place, he wouldâve left a while ago. Hell, if he ever pulled something like that, heâd allow for Jisung to choke him âin a non-sexual sense, at least for onceâ, but he canât help feeling giddy at the empty sight of the chair in front of you. Almost as if you were waiting for them to get close, to take a seat. And then, maybe youâd smile. Like a little treat.
A cute gift.
The image makes him smirk as he licks his lips. Minho knows heâd wrap you up in a heartbeat.
âWhat do you think?â He ponders the question lowly, still waiting for the waiter as the restaurant prepares their table. The one next to you, of course.
Jisungâs eyes widen for a moment. âWhat do I think?â
He gulps, and Minho reels in the way his boyfriend is already blushing, the red dust on his cheeks making him think twice and wonder if he could afford having a little snack before properly taking you both as a dessert, and he canât help but snicker, tonguing his cheek.
âWhat are the chances?â
Minhoâs fingers stroke Jisungâs palm.
âWell, I did as we agreed. And now the plan follows, jagi. Iâm sure you can play your part now, mmh?â His voice is sultry, low, and a whisper, one that deepens Hanâs blush and darkens his eyes even further, making his breath hitch to Minhoâs amusement. âAs if you canât do whatever you want with that pretty little mouth of yours.â
âMinââ
âWelcome.â The whispered whine that Jisung had been just about to say dies on his lips, as tragically âyet not quite as brutallyâ as the unfortunate and inopportune waiter in Minhoâs head.
âYour party for two is ready. Come with me.â
Shrugging away the comment âwith you here, no oneâs comingâ, Minho follows behind Han and nods his head after being pointed to his table.
White-collar thieves could have plenty of money and exotic pairs of jewelry. Take any gemstone, for example. In unknown eyes, it may seem flawlessly perfect, but thatâs merely a refracted illusion. Its core, deep in there, remains a secret, and itâd take a good crack for it to be seen.
No, this couple had it clear. A thief could steal anything but achieve nothing. And as Minho sends his partner in crime a wink, and the plan finally starts, its gears already set in place, he knows that whatever the outcome of it might end up being, nothing would give a better reward than trying to steal you tonight.
And it all starts with a silly trip of his boyfriendâs foot.
Jisungâs hand saves him from ending head first against your thighs âdid he really save himself, Minho wonders, because the thought sounded like heavenâ, and he watches as the younger one rushes back up, an apologetic grin on his face that he had seen so many times before and still made him want to kneel in front of Jisung and worship him to death and beyond.
âSorry,â Ji smiles, bashful, his little dimples showing. He pretends to cringe, an action only Minho can see through.
âOh, no, donât worry. Are you alright?â The genuine worry that slips through your tone softens the men.
âOf course. Yes.â Jisung chimes right back. âSuch a kind lady.â He grins, pulling his hand in front of him.
Minho is just watching, and the feeling of witnessing such a moment nearly has him bulging in his tailored pants as shy little Jisung kisses the back of your hand.
He canât believe how obsessed they both are with you, enthralled at the mere thought of having you closer, and he doesnât care, needing more, more of your confused smile as you stare at his boyfriend, more of the gentle blush that creeps up to your cheeks, more of the way your hair is neatly tied up and away from your face, feeling the impulse to ruin you on the tip of his fingers.
âWhatâs a place like this doing, surrounding a beauty such as yours?â Minho smiles, taking a seat at his table. Calm. Mindful. With the plan in his head.
You chuckle so politely that it makes Minho fidget with his rings, a laugh so melodic that tickles his heart and warms his insides.
âI stay in this hotel.â Minho knows. Heâs seen you before.
âAlone?â Jisung smiles, a bit cheeky, sitting and moving his chair at an angle, making it easier to keep the conversation going.
The way you sigh makes them both angry and giddy. They had seen your partner before, and they almost couldnât believe their eyes, genuinely wondering what had the ugly man done to deserve such an angel. If it were for them, not for too long.
âUp until twenty minutes ago, I wasnât, butâŠâ
Crystal clear. They both can see the resignation in your eyes, and Minho canât help but feel it trail up his skin, needing to do something about it immediately.
âI know it may seem too straightforward,â his mouth is dry and he can feel his ears turning red. âBut I wouldnât mind the extra company tonight. Right, jagi?â
The smile he shoots at Jisung is soft and sweet, feelings conveyed between layers and layers worth of things he hasnât said yet. A comforting grin that Ji matches, holding his hand from below the table and giving it a light squeeze, catching it.
âYes. Itâd be a pity, using that wonderful dress on such a dull night.â His boyfriend turns to you, smiling widely. âJoin us?â
God, yes. The squirm of satisfaction that threatens to leave past his lips has him fidgeting with his fingers, cracking his knuckles in an oh-so-giddy attempt to hide just how excited he is when he sees you stand up and grin sheepishly, moving your chair and settling on their table.
If one tried and overthinked it too much, it wouldnât work. People tend to feel those kinds of things, the rush, the nervousness, the desperation. Not attractive on a stranger in the slightest. And Minho knows heâs one lucky bastard just getting to sit with you at the same table, sharing sentences with Jisung across the rounded table with just a blink and a cheeky stare through his lashes.
And as the night goes on, sneaky glances, touches, soft hands over yours, their eyes deep in colour, on you as you wine and dine, the white-collar thieves swiftly steal your heart for the night.
A fever dream. You find no other way to word it, how they get under your skin and into your head, how their cheeky antics keep getting you closer and closer in a way that almost baffles you. You canât even think about that sad excuse of a boyfriend you have when Jisungâs hand brushes your arm again or when Minhoâs eyes lock on yours, almost undressing you under his gaze.
You couldnât call it a red flag. After all, their collars are pure white.
[đ â đœïž â đ]
Jisung canât hold back any longer.
He opens the door to their hotel room for you, and in an unrestrained need, grabs your wrist and finally pulls you to him.
Minho smirks, closing the door with a thud by leaning on it, watching as his boyfriend ruins and smears your lipstick, giving it just a bit before he pulls him from the back of his shirt, tutting at him.
âSuch a needy little slut, mmh? Couldnât even wait for me?â
His hands thread on Jisungâs hair, pulling in a way that has him already on edge. Minho takes his blazer off under the eager eyes of his company, and also takes Jiâs red one, leaving both on the couch that sits in the corner of the room as he licks his lips and takes his hands to his boyfriendâs neck, kissing him deeply, hungrily, humming a snicker when he feels his cheeky little hands tugging and pulling on his white shirt.
âBrat.â He whispers on his lips. âWe have to treat our guest first, donât we, jagi?â
Heat pools on your lower belly, disarmed as the two gorgeous, disheveled men stare at you with a glow in their eyes so deep it could fuck you alone. Both stare at the other with a sly grin on their faces, the phrases they want to say hidden behind the opacity of their eyes, clouded in lust.
Cheekily, Minho grabs Jisung by his belt, speaking at mere inches away from his lips.
âBe a good boy and hang on the door the do not disturb sign, mmh?â His eyes trail from Hanâs neck, reeling on his heavy breathing and how his big brown eyes flutter when his hand teases him, tickling his skin with a brush of his fingers, doing tender and slow motions, opening the lower buttons on his shirt and going down his happy trail.
Jisung only nods weakly, in a daze as Minho lets go of him, blinking slowly and letting out a playful chuckle when he teasingly smacks his ass as he makes his way to the door.
âNow, what do we have here?â
Your throat feels dry and you yearn for the moment in which youâll finally drown in Minhoâs lips. He can tell, approaching you slowly, his steps barely making a sound on the carpet below.
His hands brush away the few hairs that Ji got loose, his hand traveling from the shell of your ear to just a bit after your pulse point. âSuch a beauty.â Your heart swoons as he whispers, something that sounds more for him than for you, which does nothing but worsen the situation below your dress.
Licking your lips, you watch as he leisurely sits on the edge of the bed, two fingers teasingly making a âcome hitherâ motion as he spreads his legs, making space for you between them, his tailored clothing hugging his lush thighs in a way that nearly makes you salivate.
âI wonât bite, gorgeous. Not unless you want me to,â he teases, his hands stroking your knees while he sits just a short step or two away from you.
The sentence not only makes you shiver in anticipation, but also makes a small part of you wonder if there could be anything you wouldnât let these men do to you. Dare I say non-existent, the list seems to be pretty short, as you nibble on your lip and answer to how he pats his thigh, taking a seat.
âThere we go.â He grins with a low hum, his hands traveling far past the fabric that covers your thighs, grabbing and kneading the skin under his grasp. âWonder how long it has passed since youâve been treated right.â He clicks his tongue. âWe have to do something about it, donât we, jagi?â
Heâs talking to Jisung as if you werenât there. As if theyâre taking you, a pretty diamond gingerly falling into their white-gloved hands, and âmake no mistakeâ, youâre letting them, and itâs the end of the story, because youâd be a fool not to.
Besides, itâs already too late to back down. You want this. You couldnât care less of what happens to your boyfriend after he left and scurried back wherever, attempting to leave you with the burden of paying for everything again without having to deal with the consequences nor the guts to face you. He was going to have a fun time, arriving at your previously shared room and finding that your things had been already packed and you were no longer anywhere to be seen, leaving behind you not only the bill of the restaurant âboth his and yours, and then the one you had with Minho and Jisung, of course, an autograph on the receipt and allâ but of the entire week you had been abroad, for all the times he had been tricking you and pulling your leg.
Tonight, you werenât just being stolen. You were being freed.
âWhat makes you tick? Mmh, gorgeous?â Minho gets you back from your mind, naughty hands traveling underneath your dress and playing with the back ends of your underwear.
Heâs dying to kiss you, and he will âhe will die trying and heâd be happy to do soâ, and he can see it in your eyes that you want just as much, the dark of his reading yours with an ease that does nothing but aggravate the situation, knowing that if he were to kiss you as he had been thinking âever since he and Jisung had seen you and your boyfriendâ would cause you more things than neither you nor him could process, leaving both of your minds blank, wet, legs tangled with one another.
Minho cherishes the way you tremble in his grasp, feeling Jisungâs hands surprise you from behind, playing with the zipper of your white and red dress.
âBaby, youâre already grinding on my thigh.â Itâs teasing, itâs a menace, and he fucking loves it, seeing how said sentence darkens both your and Hanâs eyes. âWhat are you thinking, mmh? Want us to figure you out as we go?â He licks his timidly swollen lips, his hands traveling down your legs to take your heels off, discarding the red sole shoes by the end of the bed.
He kisses Jisung over your shoulder, and a moan leaves your lips when said motion âhim moving forward, that isâ makes him tense his thigh underneath you.
âJagi, do me a favour.â He whispers on his boyfriendâs lips, next to your ear, as if heâs telling Han a secret you shouldnât know âbut you donât care whether you should or shouldnât. Youâre already going to hell for cheating on that low-life you call a boyfriend. Could be the wine speaking, or how your pussy is already leaking, but if youâre going to hell, youâll make it so that these fine gentlemen help you reach heaven first.
âLadies first, okay? Letâs treat her how a princess deserves.â
Jisungâs eyes smile as he bites Minhoâs lip, finally taking your dress off of you, lowering the zipper in a way that his hand strokes your skin as the dress goes further down, and doesnât stop kissing him, even when his greedy hands take the dress off your shoulders, and travel forward, tickling you menacingly, from your belly to your chest, teasingly playing with the little bow that decorates your white bra before letting his fingers go further up your cleavage.
Minhoâs hands move your hips against his thigh, starting to feel the wetness and warmth not only on the fabric between his leg and your sweet sweet core, but on his skin.
He chuckles, panting on your ear as Jisungâs lips hungrily travel to your back, kissing and scratching with his teeth. A man blinded crazy by lust, his hand finally reaching your neck.
The way the action makes you moan is almost obscene, your cheeks as red as Jisungâs forgotten blazer and trousers. His grasp, gingerly cold, as if the rest of his warmth was traveling to other parts of his body âparts you werenât complaining to be feeling against your lower backâ, was a little bit over your collarbone, and it drove you wild.
âHyungââ Itâs a whine so desperate that nearly has him crumbling apart. Jisungâs eyes are teary when Minhoâs lock into the dark brown full of lust that they have turned to. Merely pecking his lips, Minho smiles.
âIâm going to eat you alive.â Itâs a desperate groan, and his partnerâs eyes only glow in a darker shimmer, as if he yearned for just that. âGo on, jagi. Have fun.â
Before you can expect it, Jisung lets out a moan, grabbing your waist and pulling you from Minho onto the bed. Your impending release gets ruined, and you whine, your hand unconsciously traveling to your face.
As the younger one hurriedly finishes taking your dress off of you, discarding it somewhere on the floor âa view that, later on, would make Minho grin cheekilyâ said gentleman moves and lays down next to you while his partner leaves hickeys all over your inner thighs.
Only pants, whines, and moans leave your lips, low and dimmed, overwhelmed by all that youâre feeling, hiding behind your hand. But theyâre gentlemen, after all. Ever-so-observant, Minhoâs smile is sweet when he takes your hand and interlinks your fingers.
âBeauty,â he calls, his voice sultry. âAre you familiar with the traffic light system?â
It takes a shy, confused shake from you for him to tut at his boyfriend, and Han stops his antics, licking his lips, his eyes glowing as he strokes your thighs, gingerly comforting you out of your daze.
âLike a traffic light, yeah? Green for when you want to keep going, yellow when you want to slow down, and red if you want to stop.â His hand softly moves, trailing soft motions on your cheek. âDonât wait for us to ask. If weâre playing the figure-it-out game, I want to hear you moaning âgreenâ every single minute. Good?â You blush, nodding. âSo. Colour?â
You give it a thought. Youâve brought up things like this before to your boyfriend. Things he shamed you for. Things you had been wanting to do for a while. And as you stare back at Minho, his eyes widen for a moment when he sees you smirking lightly.
To hell and heaven with it. It had been a close call before, back at the hotelâs restaurant. Itâs stupid now, and you canât believe you almost ran away back to your room and wasted such a divinely given chance like this one.
âGreen.â You smile. âFigure me out better than I know myself.â
Jisungâs mind is completely foggy and hazy, his hands kneading your thighs, waiting, panting at your sudden forwardness. He can barely form a coherent thought, his mind consumed by the need to keep going until your taste is all that he knows.
You lift yourself, sitting on the bed, as the focus of the two menâs attention while your hand reaches for Jisungâs chin, and heâs dead. Heâs gotta be, because as he moves to keep feeling your soft grasp on him, he swears he stops breathing.
âIâm going to kiss you.â Itâs an announcement. Not quite a question but a warning, a narration of sorts. It keeps Minho waiting for a movement, something, whatever, anything to be able to follow what they had started, surprised by the newfound shimmer in your eyes.
And you can only confirm the whole chain of unbridled thoughts that haunt you âthat you want to devour them with kisses, that you would let them eat you whole, unashamed, unrestrained, and overly needyâ when, after closing your eyes, you erase any space that was between your lips and Jisungâs.
Itâs not the butterflies in your stomach, but your own pulse rumbling in your ears, so loud that you think that either of the two men to whom you knew crystal clear that you were going to give yourself to tonight could hear it without making any sort of effort.
Nasty, desperate, wild. Jisung is gone, set on making any trace of red lush lipstick disappear from your lips. He starts kissing you more passionately, taking both of his hands to your nape, pulling on your hair in an attempt to get you even closer to him, the need for oxygen merely a necessity far less important than to keep kissing you and lick away your strawberry lipstick.
âThis is crazy,â you pant, gasping for air.
âYou make me crazy.â
Heâs breathless, and he just canât stop kissing you. Not when youâre giving yourself back to him with almost the same intensity, the raw need for more overperforming any sort of kissing skills that Jisung thought he had before. Matter of fact, he canât think. Not when his hands travel from your waist, your skin like a canvas heâd die to keep marking, trailing a teasing path up your back, making you shiver until he finally undoes the barrier that keeps him from touching, and finally tasting âlicking, spitting, marking, fondling, kissing, biting, better if itâs all at the same timeâ your breasts. He swiftly takes your bra off of you, as if it burns. It wouldâve made you laugh, but as he cages you against the mattress the only thing you can do is moan.
Yes. Yes. Yes, More. Please. Donât stop.
Thereâs a light bounce of the mattress when Minho takes a seat behind you, and Han whines when you leave his lips.
Youâre a mess. Thereâs no other way to describe it, and Minho loves it. He loves how youâre in between Jisung and him. How youâre drooling and moaning, your head leaning against his shoulder as greedy little Hannie goes back to where he was heading before. He loves how youâre not holding back anymore, your right hand pulling on his boyfriendâs hair and your right one on his nape, gingerly playing with it as you squirm under the pleasure that Jiâs mouth brings you.
âBeauty,â Minhoâs voice is impossibly low when he calls for you, pressing soft, tender kisses on your pulse point. You whine, a strained âyeah?â that kills him. âHow do we feel about this?â
You open your eyes, not really aware when you had closed them, and you look at Minhoâs soft hands, his rings shimering under the roomâs indirect light. Itâs a lace, your fuzzy brain tells you. It has the words Dior written several times on it.
âG-greenâŠâ itâs a whine, itâs slurry, and it turns to a hitched breath when Hanâs fingers slide inside you with ease, curling and thrusting until you canât do anything else but moan and whine, trembling as you come, pleasure hitting you in waves.
You cling onto Minho like a rock, as much as you can, his body behind you stroking you in a way that makes you shiver while Ji helps you ride out your high.
âLook at him, princess.â
His tone is slightly mean, and you sigh, feeling his arms surround you.
âHe came just from tasting you.â
Youâre still a bit out, panting, but your eyes turn to him, whose head is leaning on your thigh. One of your hands moves to stroke his hair, and you grow hotter watching how he shudders for a second.
âHe was grinding against the mattress. Like a little horny slut.â
Itâs shameful. Minhoâs tone is one for mocking. Heâs⊠torturing him. And yet he looks like he might just come one more time from that alone.
âM-minâŠâ Hannie whimpers, a slurred sound of pleasure.
âOh, beauty. He even wants more.â Jisungâs eyes open, staring at you two from below, and he moans.
You blink, but slowly, you seem to get it. Or, if you asked Jisung, you were a godess sent straight-out from heaven.
âBut can he⊠beg like a⊠a pretty slut?â
Minho nearly comes untouched at your tone. The way theyâre already corrupting you, how youâre degrading Jisung already, watching how heâs unconciously grinding against the mattress again, overstimulating himself.
âNgh, fuck⊠p-princessâŠâ his hands travel to your thighs, clinging to them like a lifeline.
Youâre unsure of what to do, because you know what to say, holding back for a second.
âBeauty,â Minho kisses your neck. âWhatâs that brain of you thinking, mmh?â
Your blush covers your whole face, and you smile, as if youâve been caught on a white lie.
âI⊠want to, um. Want you to do to him what you did to me.â
Jisung freezes in his place. Minhoâs eyes darken. âKeep talking, beauty. Spare no detail.â
Your shyness fades as you look at Jiâs face, reeling at how he moans softly, his body just a tiny bit spent, yet heâs paying close attention to you and your words, not wanting to stop even for a second. The intensity of his stare makes heat hit you, unexpected yet welcomed.Â
And with hooded eyes and weak legs, you turn to face both Minho and Jisung, letting go of what youâre thinking without giving yourself the chance to second guess it.Â
âI want you to finger him. While you fuck me. And then I want him to fuck me.âÂ
Perplexed. There are little to no words Minho can manage to say, if any. He knows that heâs a sentence away from losing himself completely to the sensation, your mind and body now completely under the control of the aphrodisiac that is their company and undivided attention, and the intense pleasure it induces.Â
âHyung.â Hanâs eyes are teary, and he looks so pretty.Â
Why would Minho resist?
He takes you by your wrists and pulls you towards him, kissing you in a way that makes your mind and body completely submissive and compliant. There it is. Minho is finally kissing you, claiming you with each stroke of his tongue. And now he holds no restraint, his hands exploring your body, his touch becoming more urgent and passionate with each moan that goes past your swollen, kissable lips.Â
His body presses even harder against yours, pinning you against the mattress as he kisses you deeply, his lips and tongue tracing a path down your neck, his breath hot against your skin. Minho bites down gently on the sensitive skin of your collarbone, his hands gripping your hips, holding you in place as he continues his assault on your senses, his desire for you growing more and more intense.
He moans softly into the kiss, his hands wandering along your body, his touch hungry, as if he couldn't get enough of you âand he canât, heâs well aware that you might be his last meal, and heâd be happy about itâ grabbing and marking and touching all he can reach. He breaks the kiss briefly, his lips trailing down your jaw and neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses against your sensitive skin as he pants heavily, his voice low and hoarse with desire.
"You're driving me crazy, beauty," he murmurs, his voice gravelly with lust. "Can't get enough."
âMinho, please,â you whine and beg, shivering when he stands on his knees, looking at you from above, a dark, nasty shimmer in his eyes.Â
He pushes Jisung next to you, face down ass up, which only makes the latter moan, desperate to be touched again.Â
âYou know what, beauty?â Minho grins, mad, crazy, horny, and all of the above, as he takes back the Dior lace and softly moves your hands over your head, making a pretty bow on your wrists, almost as pretty as his needy princess. Heâs thankful Jisung wanted to buy that perfume.Â
âIâm going to fuck you. Because you want to, donât you, beauty?â His snicker brings heat to your whole body, and it hits you where youâre restrained, Minhoâs hands pinching and teasing all over your torso, watching you crumble and whimper underneath him. âAnd Iâm going to make him come too. You two want to be used like little toys, and itâs just what Iâm about to do.âÂ
He bends down to reach for the lube in the bedside table, but uses that opportunity to meanily bite your cheek. It feels warm under his tongue, the skin red, not only from the teasing bite but from how deep youâre blushing.Â
Minho keeps talking while he slowly removes your ruined panties and Jisungâs soiled underwear.Â
âIâll fuck you so good, beauty. So good you wonât ever feel the same, if you fuck that scum you call a boyfriend. Iâll make you come so hard you wonât even remember his name.âÂ
You donât know what happens first, but surely, Jisung and you start whining and moaning, panting as Minho fails to keep a steady pace on both of you, his thrusts irregular as pleasure takes hold of him.Â
Heâs reeling in pleasure, whispering into your ear in between moans and grunts how good you feel, how tight your pretty little pussy clenches around him, how youâre going to milk him dry as he keeps pouncing on you. âIf y-you, ever, ever, ever doubt who you belong toâŠâ he moans, watching you cry in pleasure, listening to Hannieâs slurred babbling, failing to get a good grip on the bed sheets. âRemember⊠that you can always come back⊠princessâŠâ
After all, his duty as a thief wasnât only stealing. He wasnât going to complain when heâd kill for you to sit on his face. Just for starters.Â
It doesnât take long for Jisung to come on his own palm, shivering in pleasure, panting, but smiling at you, and âwith his other handâ grabbing yours while you moan and whine and whimper, so close once again.Â
T-too muchâ Donât stop. Yes, yes, please!
Moaning so beautifully, Minho crumbles. His words are slurred as he whines, something about filling you up that makes you see stars as he somehow thrusts even deeper.
âThere, there, ah⊠f-fuck, I canâtâŠâÂ
Dazed, fucked-out, drunk and lost in pleasure, youâre only able to let out louder sounds, tugging at your restraint as the Dior bow keeps you grounded, and Jisungâs now clean hand âyou missed when that happened, yet youâre not bothered enough to question itâ presses figure eights on your clit. And not even a minute later, youâre both gasping and moaning, and you throw your head back as he comes inside of you.Â
It takes a moment for the three of you to move. For a minute, the world stops spinning, and you relish the warmth of his bodies, next and over you, your head still fuzzy with pleasure.Â
You and Minho whine when he pulls out, and you shiver at the loss of heat over you and the emptiness inside you. Jisung is quick to fix the first one, softly moving your head over to his shoulder, and he leans his chin over yours.Â
âHey, princess.â He still has a red hue on his cheeks, but youâre pretty sure youâre matching, if not worse.Â
You hum, weak, and he canât help but giggle. His soft hands cradle your face, and he sighs, stroking your nose with his tenderly.Â
âIâm really happy you joined us tonight.âÂ
And with the strength you have left, you merely move to kiss his palm, your eyes closed. They remain closed when Minho comes back, even when he softly moves your arms and links them behind his nape.Â
Han heads into the bathroom first, making sure the water of the bathtub is warm enough before sliding inside, helping Minho put you down, leaning your head against Jiâs shoulder and in between his legs.Â
Youâre half asleep, but you smile when Minhoâs hands stroke your legs. Your legs feel sore and youâre a blink away from the best sleep of your life, but first, the best night of your life makes sure to take care of you after all the fun.Â
Two pairs of hands clean up the mess they turned you to, and youâre so happy to be taken care of as sweetly and as gently as they are doing, that you weakly peck Minho and Jisungâs lips.Â
No words are needed, and Jisung hugs you from behind, pressing soft kisses on your shoulder blades. Minho links his hand with yours, fondly staring at the two of you before him.Â
Thieves like Han and Minho are masters in their craft. With professional care, they dry your body, tender touches fully lulling you to sleep when Jisung grabs one of the discarded white-collared shirts and gingerly closes its buttons. Bathed, spent, and tired, they settle you in between them, with your back to Minho, and Jisung kisses his boyfriendâs hand, covering all of you with the bedâs blanket.Â
Sure, maybe you didnât do all that you wanted that night. But you donât mind it. Warm, clean, and thoroughly satisfied, youâre fine with the need that hits you even after you wake up. You want to be theirs so much, and despite the estrangement, itâs a fact that doesnât change ânot even after it dawns on you that neither you nor them introduced themselves, and you donât know their names.
[đ â đœïž â đ]
kats, who needs a high âinfinite, evenâ dose of grass, stat.
catiuskaa, august 2024 ©
#stray kids x reader#stray kids#stray kids scenarios#stray kids fluff#stray kids imagines#skz scenarios#lee minho fluff#poly minsung#minsung#jisung smut#han smut#lee minho smut#stray kids smut#lee minho x reader#minho headcanons#minho fluff#minho smut#skz han#han jisung smut#han jisung imagine#lee know headcanons#lee know x you#lee know smut#minsung x reader#skz hard thoughts#skz hard hours#skz smut#han jisung headcanons#han jisung fanfic#han jisung scenarios
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thatâs my man (and my woman)
Summary: Your kids are curious little buggers. Asking questions about everything and anything under the sun. So there comes the complications of when your kids ask you if youâve fallen in love before. How will you explain everything? Time to put your imagination to use.
A/N - Iâve been putting out a lot of sexy fics recently. Why not some fluff?
Song Inspo: Style - Taylor Swift and Perfect - Ed Sheeran
It took so long just to get two human beings to eat breakfast.
âCharlie, Sam, breakfast!â You called up the stairs, sighing after you did. Your hands were on your hips in true mom fashion, and disbelief and faux-regret was your adrenaline high this time as you wondered why exactly you had kids. That you loved to death despite their poor eating schedule. âCome on, I made pancakes.â
The thundering of little feet on the stairs told you that you had two incoming hurricanes.
Your seven year old boy, Sam, and your five year old girl, Charlie, appeared at the bottom of the stairs with broad smiles, crashing into you for a bear hug that knocked the wind out of your sails. You laughed as you hugged them back, giving a few pats of their head each. âHey, there. Ready for breakfast?â
âIs there syrup?â Charlie asked eagerly, running and hopping into a high chair, grabbing her plate of pancakes and bringing it to her with a familiar lick of her lips and happy, twitchy grin. Sam had gotten his fatherâs hair, while Charlie had gotten yours. But the eyes were swapped around, and it was always a point of laughing. Not one child could be more like one or the other.
Arguably, both kids had their fatherâs dimples and smile. So yes, he could stake his claim.
âAnd whipped cream?â Sam added with a toothy grin.
âRaspberries?â
âBlueberries?â
You shook your head with a chuckle; such chatterboxes. You opened the fridge and a cabinet, getting out the maple syrup, whipped cream and strawberries. âNot too much, ok?â You passed the toppings to them, and with a chorused âyes, momâ, they proceeded to completely disregard your orders. It made you shake your head again, huffing out a breath when all sense of scolding them disappeared once you saw the golden morning light hitting their little heads as they squealed and laughed.
Kids. You loved them to bits.
âMom,â Charlie asked through a bite of pancake and whipped cream that smeared over her mouth, âhave you ever loved someone before?â
The question startled you slightly, but you grabbed a kitchen towel, cleaning her lips with a soft smile as she shied away with a shriek of delight, little bunches waving about wildly. âCourse I have, sweetie. But only once.â
âOoh, tell me, tell me!â She giggled, while Sam cringed a little, muttering a small âgrossâ that got a sharp glare and pout from Charlie. Out of care for his little sister, he shut himself up.
You took a slow breath in to give yourself time to think, leaning on the counter and putting down the paper towel. âWell, it started a long time ago. When I was twenty six, all young.â
âThatâs old.â Sam wrinkled his nose in confusion. You scoffed lightly, because it damn wasnât, but he was just a kid.
âBehave, Samuel.â You ruffled his hair with a laugh. âWe met at my old job. 4th October, 2006. He had his brother with him. Now, I thought he was trouble. He had a leather jacket and one of those really fancy, loud cars and he was very popular with girls.â You reached out to tickle Charlieâs side, which had her squeaking. âBut he was likeable, and charming, so I wanted to bump into him more often.â
âWas he cool?â Sam perked up, suddenly very interested. âHe sounds cool.â
You pinched his chin affectionately. âThe coolest. But our job was very tiring. We went through a lot of big stuff, like I told you in your bedtime stories. There would be vampires and werewolves and fairies of all kinds, but he and I would always save the day. And if we didnât, weâd save the next day.â
âYou saved the world!â Charlie exclaimed, making an aeroplane with a pancake bite on her fork. The action sent a flutter of warmth and love through your chest. For your family. Something you thought youâd never have.
You nodded, guiding the bite to her mouth gently before your hyperactive child sent the fork flying. âThatâs right, gumdrop. We saved the world.â It was like telling a story, of you and your prince. âI couldnât help but love him. Heâd call me sweetheart and hold me tight. Heâd look at me with a wide smile on his face, just for me. And he told me I was the one he was looking for.â
âThatâs corny.â Sam piped up, but he also had a wide, goofy, dimpled grin on his face. He leaned forward. âSo, where is he now? Did you two leave each other?â
âWell, he-â The sound of the door opening and closing echoed through the house, followed by soft padding steps and heavier ones not so far behind.
âSweetheart, Iâm home!â A familiar voice called, the deep one which always had your stomach doing flips. That you heard murmuring sweet nothings in your ear every damn day. âCâmon Miracle, stay still- attaboy. Such a good boy.â
âThat would be your father.â You sighed, not in a disappointed way, but a lovesick teenager way because hearing the word âsweetheartâ from your husbandâs mouth never got old.
Your husband. Damn, you didnât think youâd make it to that point. Not when Chuck was still a threat. Or even that rebar that Jack saved him from.
Your kids shrieked happily and practically flew off their high chairs, sprinting towards their dad, who was busy taking off his jacket in the hallway.
Dean Winchester. All 6â 1â of flannel and denim, but this time with burden-free smiles and lit up looks.
When he saw his two munchkins, the jacket was off in a flash and heâd bent to one knee in order to absorb the impact of two koala hugs. âAw, hey, squirt number one and two. Hope you didnât give your mom much trouble.â
It felt so much better than the impact of a punch. Indescribably better.
âDad!â The two giggled at the same time, accepting two kisses on the forehead each while being smothered by their dadâs strong arms. Warm and comforting and no longer instruments of destruction.
Theyâd always be somewhat like that, Dean thought in the back of his mind. The seed of doubt sowing in again.
Then Dean saw you in the hallway, and his brain forgot to work, doubts forgot to sow and crept into the dark corner it came from. You, his wife (he never got tired of the way that word rolled off his tongue), Mrs Winchester, standing there all pretty looking at him with those eyes of yours that always saw through his crap and often jackassery.
Dressed up in his undershirt, your sweats with the last few winks of sleep yet to go from your eyes, but still working yourself to the bone to make sure your kids had a good meal. A far cry of the days where heâd look up, see you covered in blood that wasnât yours, adrenaline-pumped with that sexy fire in your eyes, machete in hand instead of that ring he bought around your finger.
He preferred this look on you. It meant you were safe.
Dean watched as you gave Miracle an idle scratch before ushering the kids into the kitchen, then walking up to him and wrapping those gorgeous arms around his neck, gorgeous eyes twinkling and your gorgeous lips stretched into a smile.
The whole nine yards, apple pie and picket fence of gorgeous and it was all his. All his personal heaven.
âMrs Winchester.â He murmured, nudging your nose with his as his arms circled your waist, drawing you in and gripping your hips with both underlying possessiveness and a tender glow in those emerald eyes. Your soul soaring and low, warm vibrations in your body increasing until it was at the frequency of his. Syncing you both.
âMr Winchester.â You giggled softly as you let your lips meet his once, pulling back. Then you couldnât help yourself, letting them meet in holy matrimony again. And again. And again, over and over until you were both mentally and physically restraining yourselves due to your children being in the next room.
âWe have to stop.â Dean chuckled, his hand tangling in your hair as the other inched down from its place on your hip, taking yet another hit of your honeyed lips.
âWe do.â You whispered back, meeting his ministrations with the slow massage of your thumb against his scalp from where your fingers ran through his hair, your other hand on his chest.
Over his heart.
âHard to when yâlooking so pretty, darlinâ, and you know it.â He huffed, nuzzling your nose before dipping to press a slow, hot kiss to your jugular. âWearinâ my shirt too, hardens the bargain. And these sweats, god, you know what they do for your ass.â As if to punctuate his point (and sentence), he gave a quick, firm slap to it. âAinât makinâ it easy for me here, baby.â
âDean!â You squeaked, giggling. âOur kids are in the kitchen.â
âLilâ buggers. My sex driveâs arch nemesis.â He groaned against your neck, but listened anyway, taking his hand off your ass and cupping your cheeks, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead, then hairline. âCâmon.â You two made your way to the kitchen, where Miracle then padded over, rearing on his hind legs to paw at Deanâs jeans for attention. He obliged, bending down to ruffle Miracleâs golden coat.
âHey, boy.â He whispered, fingers doing good work to give Miracle the love he was whining for. âI love you a lot, ok? But Iâve got a wife, a very sweet, very sexyâŠâ Dean gave you a once over with a lick of his lip and a quick bite of the bottom one, âwife. And I wanna get her in bed today, so donât ruin this one for me. All respect given. Alright?â
A small whimper of affirmation.
âAttaboy.â Dean gave Miracle a quick scratch behind the ear before straightening up.
âCâmon, mom, tell us what happened to the cool guy!â Sam insisted, which had Dean raising an eyebrow at you in question. Cool guy? Who, what, when, where, how, why?
âYeah, the one that stole your heart and put rainbows in your eyes!â Charlie added, making a heart with her tiny hands.
Dean smirked, leaning against the counter by his hip. âOh? Who stole your heart and put rainbows in your eyes, honey? Do tell.â
âFirst of all, I did not say that.â You chuckled, raising a finger.
âYou donât have to. Itâs all here.â Charlie pointed to her own eyes with an intense stare at her finger and a cute pout. It almost had you melting. âBut tell us!â
âOh, fine.â You rolled your eyes playfully with a laugh, then took Deanâs hand and kissed the battle-scarred knuckle.
The gesture making Dean internally melt and externally making his eyes fill up with hearts and his lips twitch into a warm smile.
âI married him.â You said softly, your eyes mirroring the same look.
âDamn right.â He chuckled, leaning forward and meeting your lips in a sweet, slow kiss. Free from the stress of an Apocalypse or a battle. That tasted like coffee and toothpaste rather than beer or whiskey and had no rush. His hand cradling your cheek while yours gently cupped the back of his head. Breathing in his body wash that wasnât low grade anymore. You still had the unlimited credit cards, so you had more time for things like these. The little things.
You became absorbed in everything Dean, the kiss not as passionate as when heâd dipped you and took your breath away in front of a crowd of hunters on your wedding day but still had the same meaning. The whispers of the vows you two had choked out through tears. He became absorbed in you, in the sweet taste of a croissant on your tongue and your floral scent dizzying and overwhelming his senses in a good way. It was you he was feeling. It felt like you, so real, so safe. It felt like home.
âEwwww!â You were interrupted by Sam and Charlie, and you broke apart, foreheads pressing together with a soft laugh coming from the both of you.
His hand on your waist, yours carding through his hair. Comfort, assurance, something you both had been deprived of for fifteen straight years. You wouldnât let being Mrs Winchester go. Not now, not ever.
Mrs Winchester. Never got old.
Iâd appreciate a like, comment and/or reblog! Make sure to do this for all your favourite writers so they get inspiration!
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#dean winchester#supernatural#dean winchester fanfiction#dean winchester x reader#dean x reader#spn#dean winchester x you#spn masterlist#dean x you#dean winchester fluff
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she - c. & m. sturniolo ( 003. )
in which . . . the new girl down the street catches the attention of two brothers who grow infatuated with her.
( ghostface!chris x black!fem!reader x ghostface!matt )
warnings ; black!bimbo!fem!reader , ghostface!chris , ghostface!matt , obsessive!chris & matt , blood , gore , knives , mentions of death , eventual smut , threesome , munch!matt , oral ( fem! receiving ) , overstim , praise kink , dry humping , squirting
"ođđ, đđđ, đđđ'đđ đđđ đđđđ đđđđ đ đđđđ."
1, 2, 3, 4 đ
â ËïœĄâàš ÊÉ à§â ËïœĄââ ËïœĄâàš ÊÉ à§â ËïœĄââ ËïœĄâàš ÊÉ à§â ËïœĄââ ËïœĄâàš ÊÉ à§â ËïœĄââ ËïœĄâàš ÊÉ à§â
it felt like you were betraying chris and matt in some way, having not told them about the call from the ghostface killer that you received â but luckily for you, they didn't seem to suspect anything was wrong with you. despite your overly jumpy nature and the constant looking over your shoulders in between classes, matt and chris thought nothing of it.
( but of course, they knew. )
you sat at one of the tables near the cafeteria, chemistry book open in front of you with a worksheet neatly sat on top of it. your nose scrunched in confusion, before you shook your head to clear the distractions.
"what's up, pretty girl?"
you jump slightly, a shriek leaving your lips as you turn around to be met with the familiar sight of matt, who grins down at you, running a hand through your sleek ponytail as he takes a seat next you. you inhale, looking back down towards your textbook.
"y'alright?" chris asks, sitting on the other side of you guys, as he licks his lips whilst sending you a wink.
"mhm!" you answer quickly, cheeks heating up as you looked at chris, remembering the intimate night you both shared. as if he can sense what goes through your mind, he smirks at you knowingly.
"your parents gonna be gone tonight?" matt asks you, toying with your ponytail as you try to regain focus on the assignment in front of you.
"yeah, it's date night yet again," you snort quietly, shaking your head slightly, "but i have lots of homework to do..."
"you sayin' you can't make time for us?" chris asks, feigning a pout as he puts a hand on his chest. matt shakes his head and chuckles at this, resting a hand on your thigh.
you sighed at this, a pout forming on your face as you looked at them both. "i mean i could, but i really need to get these done."
"how bout' tomorrow then, yeah?" matt tells you, face dangerously close to yours as he licks his lips, his eyes grazing over your lips for a mere second, "y'gonna be free by then?"
"yes!" you beam just then, nodding your head as your wide eyes shine with anticipation.
"s'good to know," chris murmurs, nodding to you with a smirk, "we'll see you tomorrow."
with a hum, matt presses the ghost of a kiss to your cheek, slightly tugging on your ponytail causing you to pout as you turn to give him a slight glare at his retreating figure. chris throws you a wink, and you roll your eyes slightly, a smile tugging at the corners of your lips. aside from the phone call you know you'd be receiving soon enough, you looked forward to spending time with your favorite boys.
âââ
later on that night, you had your english work spread out across your bed this time â you were in the same aggravated state as you were with chemistry, being that you kept finding yourself distracted.
you bit your lip in frustration, narrowing your eyes at the words on the page. it wasn't hard work, you just couldn't bring yourself to do what you were supposed to be doing.
after a couple of minutes, a strangled groan leaves your lips as you stack your papers neatly, deciding you were just going to give up on your work for now â you felt a tad bit guilty since you could've been spending this time with matt and chris, but to be honest? you needed the mental break and some time alone to process things. besides it was after curfew, and you didn't want either of them in trouble.
a phone call wouldn't hurt.
you grinned slightly about to reach for the cherry red landline, before the loud ring from the device startles you â a cold chill runs down your spine, and your eyebrows furrow in confusion.
he only ever called you once a week.
could this possible be someone else calling you? nervousness bubbled in your gut, and you found a shaky hand reaching out for the phone anyway â for your sake, you seriously hoped someone else was calling you.
"hello?" you say into the receiver nervously, biting down on your bottom lip as you glance around your room.
"hey there, pretty girl."
a gulp rides down your throat, and you squeezed your eyes shut before opening them again. "what is it you want now?"
"i jus' wanna talk to you, baby," he purrs, causing your thighs to unwillingly clench together. "y'know you missed me."
"bold of you to assume that," you muttered into the phone, tracing your fingers up and down your thigh, "why do you wanna talk to me?"
an almost irritated sigh leaves his lips on the other line, and your eyebrows shoot up as you await his response. "i always look forward to talkin' to you. an' i know you secretly enjoy talkin' to me."
the curve of a smile tugs at your lips, and you find yourself biting down on your lip once again â if it was so wrong to be talking to him, why did he gauge this sort of reaction out of you? strangely, you liked the idea of these intimate talks with a man you didn't know â a stalker, learning everything about its' target. you secretly liked the way he seemed to know exactly what you liked, even if he was somehow watching to see your reactions.
( and he definitely was. )
"let's play a game, doll," he tells you, and you can almost hear the grin in his voice.
"okay," you say back in confirmation, and a low chuckle escapes his lips.
"for every question i ask you and i get right, you have to take off article of clothing," he says, causing your eyebrows to furrow before a slight grin breaks out over your face. it's not like he was there with you â he couldn't tell you what to take off.
"easy enough, s'not like-"
"and it's my choice what you take off," he growls into the phone, which elicits a gulp from you as you glance around your room, "got it, princess? wouldn't wanna gut you cause you can't follow simple directions."
a small whimper escapes your lips and you nod, though he can't see you ( that's what you thought, anyway. . . ) "words angel, i need your words."
"okay, i'll follow your rules," you whimpered into the phone, and you could hear a strained groan come from the other line.
"thas' a good girl," he purrs, the praise sending a familiar feeling to your core. "first question. do you like our phone calls?"
"yes," you whispered into the line, scolding yourself for being so honest. but how could you lie?
"take off those pretty lil' shorts you're in," he instructs you.
reluctantly ( but not really. . . ) you lift up from your bed, un-tugging the knot from the drawstring of your shorts â the piece of fabric falls to floor, and you move your legs to completely step out of it. you bite your lip, knowing now that this game would be too easy for him.
you weren't wearing any underwear underneath.
and to make it worse, there was a faint squelch sound when you sat back on your bed â but of course your conversation with the ghostface killer had you sopping wet. and you were almost certain he could hear it too, judging from the low chuckle that left his lips once again.
"aw, s'my girl not wearin' any panties?" he cooed, and you whined again unintentionally, causing a growl to leave his lips.
"got you all wet while you're callin' me," he teases you, causing you to pout as your fingers trace patterns along your thigh, "new game, an' i want you to do exactly what i say."
"i'll do whatever you say," you purr into the phone.
"touch yourself f'me."
you were shocked at the request â was he getting off to this, too? maybe that's why he decided to start calling you in the first place. ( and if you weren't so clueless, you would've known that he jerked off to just about every phone call you had together. )
"don't get all shy on me, darlin'," he sneers, as you opened your legs just slightly, "go head', touch that pretty pussy."
your hand snakes down to your heat, a soft whine leaving your lips when you gather your slick, spreading the wetness across our wet cunt. it's eerily silent in your home, nothing but the wet, slick noises sounding throughout it as a low moan leaves your lips.
( why in the hell would you leave your bedroom slightly cracked opened? )
"oh," you moan, throwing your head back as you begin to circle your clit, hearing the labored breathing from the man on the other line.
"such a good girl, playin' with herself jus' f'me," he groans, and you're almost certain he's jerking off to this.
but you didn't care â his praise has you arching your back, as you slowly put one of your digits into your tight hole, moving it in and out slowly.
the door to your bedroom creaks open slightly, the phone long forgotten as it lays on the bed beside you. static sounds throughout the other line, but you're too caught up in pleasuring yourself to even notice. hell, you're too riddled with ecstasy that you don't notice matt begin to slowly make his way into your room, his eyes zeroing in on the sight of you.
"fuck, y/n," he mumbles, breath strangled as he runs a hand down his jaw.
your eyes suddenly flutter open, wide â yet, you make no move to stop touching yourself. instead, your movements speed up as he watches you hungrily, just waiting to devour you. wordlessly, matt lets out a groan as he walks over in front of you, bending down so that he was level with your glistening folds. he pries your legs apart, mouth watering at the sight in front of him â how he couldn't wait to taste you.
"m-matt, i-"
"gonna have a taste of you," he growls, eyes clouded with pure lust as he looks up at you momentarily, a smirk on his face. "sit back an' relax, angel."
before you can get another syllable out of your mouth, it's replaced with a loud moan as matt attaches his lips to your swollen bud.
"o-oh- matt, gosh!" you cry out, gripping the edge of your sheets as your toes curl, head thrown back as matt devours you.
his low moans send vibrations throughout your core, causing profanities to slip your lips as matt eats you out like a starved man â his tongue does figure eights inside your swollen hole, his blue eyes darkened possessively as they look up to watch your face contort in pure pleasure. the grip on your thighs is enough to bruise by tomorrow, but you could care less â the way matt's tongue felt inside of you is all you could focus on.
his hips rutted into the bed with each flick of his tongue, groaning when he hears the sounds of bliss that exit your mouth. "oh gosh, please don't stop!"
"don't plan on it, princess," matt smirks, coming up momentarily before diving right back in.
"shit, feels so- gosh- so fuckin' good!" you babble out, your hand going down to tug on his brown locs.
"fuck, keep tuggin' at my hair jus' like that," matt growls lowly, adding one of his digits to your sopping hole. you scream out, his pointer finger curling inside of you as he sucks and nips at your sensitive bud.
you tug on his harder, the semi pain going straight to painfully erect cock â as much as he wanted to fill you up, tonight was all about you. he speeds up the movements of his finger, lips still attached to your cunt at the same time. the pleasure was causing the familiar band in your stomach to grow closer and closer to snapping.
"matt, m'so close," you whined, back arched as you rut your hips into his face, "gonna c-cum..."
"please baby, give it t'me," matt begs you, voice hoarse as he speeds his movements, "wan' it all over me..."
"fuck, fuck, fuckkk..."
the knot in your stomach unravels, your juices spraying all over matt's face as your orgasm crashes over you â a low growl leaves his lips as he laps at your sensitive cunt, not leaving anything behind. a whine leaves your lips, and a sudden small thud sounds from beside matt.
the voice modulator he had been using to call you falls out of his pocket, as he obsessively pulls your thighs closer to him, staring up at you with a smirk.
"gonna give me another one, baby?"
you didn't question how matt got into your room so quickly â before you could even say anything about it, his mouth was back on your overstimulated pussy. did you even notice the voice modulator that had fallen out of his pocket?
but lust had clouded your judgement, and you let matt give you not one more, but three more orgasms after that one. and you didn't question how he got in your home, nor the voice modulator.
( lilly's corner đ )
HEYYYY its her guys so sorry it took so longđđi've been working alot so things have not been getting out as fast as i wanted them tođđ i hope you guys enjoyed this part !! part four ( the finale ) will come out soon, i can't WAITTTTTđ„Žđ„Ž
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Reborn - Reader x Azriel. AN - thank you anon for this great prompt!
Requested - I don't know if your requests are open but I wanted to throw something in just in case.
An Azriel x reader, where AZ and reader have never met before, reader has been tortured and experimented on by the court of nightmares ( Keir ) she could be a shadowsinger, and they're mates, when the reader is in the verge of death for refusing to work with Keir, AZ feels it and begins to grow hectic without knowing the reason, everyone in the inner court is confused until elain comes out of nowhere and tells everyone that his mate is in danger. ( Vision )
I have this on the back of my mind since reading some of your amazing work and couldn't stop thinking about it.
No amount of masturbation, drinking, or sparring helps the agitation under Azrielâs skin. Itâs a constant, burning, itching thing thatâs like a fucking disease upon his being.Â
Sleep is his only relief, but even then heâs plagued with pain and darkness. It reminds him too much of the dank basement heâd been forced into when he was young, so he stays up. Heâs exhausted and brooding and quick to snap at anyone who questions him. He knows heâs being a dick but according to the five healers heâd seen, there was nothing wrong.Â
Nothing wrong, just like how his shadows werenât some kind of magic, according to them.Â
Heâd refused to believe in healers all that much since the explanation Madja had given him about his diseased pets. The writhing, tentacles of night were a âbodily mutation of the highest level, tainted with fae magicâ. Tainted. The word felt right for what they were, but that didnât mean it stung any less.Â
âWeâll invade here, and be able to plant ourâŠâ There was a beat of silence in Amrenâs quick words, then her voice cut through his busybodied task like a knife âAzriel, are you even listening?âÂ
Truthfully, he hadnât been. Heâd been consumed by the ache again, the broiling sickness beneath his skin that had every muscle flexed in tension. His mind had other battles to fight.Â
âWhat does it matter? Youâll carry out your plan with or without me. Keep talking, make yourself feel important, Amren.â His ill-tempered response came quick and laced with venom. One glance towards the small not-quite-fae female and his mind gave a twinge of regret.Â
A lick of her power radiated, filling the room with something vibrant and undeniable. Cassian sucked in a breath, and a word from Rhys had her firey gaze snapping to him instead. âTake your dog from the important business then, High Lord.â Her words were precise, hissed.Â
Azriel straightened. The insult didnât land as well as Amren had wanted, in part because he couldnât care less, another because the fire under his skin was reaching a peak that he had no idea how he survived every time it came around. He glanced to Rhys, who gave him a nod. Good. Let him free of this cage.Â
He flung open the balcony doors with his cursed gift and sprinted off the ledge, launching himself into the summer air.Â
+
Rats nibbled at your toes when you slept, scurrying away before you could catch them. Your senses werenât even close to what they had been months ago. Before, youâd been able to catch at least two a week for extra sustenance.Â
You told yourself that theyâd learned, that theyâd gotten quicker at their biting and fleeing. Truthfully, you could feel your strength waning every day.Â
Living was no longer hope, and more of an inconvenience.Â
But it was an inconvenience to Kier as well. And that meant youâd keep on living out of spite.Â
The next female would appreciate it.Â
âArms up, legs together.â The order came with unnatural casualness that youâd grown used to. If you didnât follow the orders, you were beaten until you either complied or were unconscious, so complying was really the only option. Especially when you were attempting to stay alive for as long as you could.Â
Itâs for the next girl. You chanted to yourself when the keeper made the injection. It stung like hundreds of bees attacking the same place, but the pain was familiar. A friend you welcomed before everything went sideways and the nausea rolled in.Â
The drug Kierâs men gave was like none youâd experienced outside this cell. An incredible high, with a disastrous low.Â
You convulsed on the floor moments later, your body still barely able to take the amount they dosed you with. Youâd seen the liquid inside the damn thing grow each week, they were marking your progress with every one of them. So, with each dosing you made sure to put on some dramatics for them.Â
The clawing at the throat was false, the sound of your screams only half-forced. The real, unforced reaction though, was always the shade of pallor your skin turned after every injection. The darkness that radiated from you like a bubble, the pain made physical.Â
It hovered over your skin like an aura, tendrils of it washing over your forehead when the sweating started. It always started like this, for the first few hours - or possibly minutes, you werenât sure once you were lost to the pain - theyâd observe, and sometimes Kier himself would join, looking like a disappointed mother. Then, once the shaking subsided, and you were able to breathe normally, theyâd release a rabbit into your cell.Â
The same rabbit almost every damn time. After the first two weeks, youâd grabbed the first one and snapped itâs neck, hoping that Kier would be happy with the accomplishment and youâd earn something. Youâd felt awful as it died in your hands, but the pain⊠if it stopped the pain, youâd kill anything.Â
But time after time, theyâd send in another rabbit, and though you begged for some kind of explanation of what they wished with the damn thing, theyâd only observe. After a few hours of investigating, itâd eventually be removed and youâd wake up alone again.
Kier did not make an appearance today, and after your shaking stopped, neither did a rabbit.
âWhereâs dinner?â You croaked, the tears stinging small cuts on your cheeks. Your friend never laughed or spoke, hardly even moved when he was in the vicinity of your cell. It was odd, even for a freak who enjoyed drugging and torturing others.
The male only stared, writing in his little notebook. He could at least humor you and tell you what he was so keenly logging. Some friend.
He opened the door, but instead of the rabbit jumping inside, he stepped forward, past the barrier and wards keeping you from breaking through. Your breathing halted.Â
âYour reluctance to learn your gifts has given us no other option.â
+
âDid you lose a fight?âÂ
Nestaâs words normally bounced and slid right off Azriel, but with how volatile he was feeling, it took all his restraint not to snarl at her.
âCome on Az, whereâs that quick wit?â She chided, crossing her legs at the knee beside her sister.Â
His eyes drifted to Elain, the warm blush of her cheeks. Her lavender nightshirt made her seem so much more vulnerable than she was. He knew just how lethal the female could be, and admired her for it. His eyes drifted to the soft hair and round features that heâd once dreamt of. How foolish heâd been, how full of hope and bitterness. Now here he was, merely a ghost. A shell for pain to be housed in and nothing more.Â
And here he stared at a garden of hope and light. The female whoâd haunted his dreams for years. The opposite of the steel bitch that sat beside her.Â
A pang of guilt pinched at him. âYouâre ridiculous.â Was all he could muster at her. Nesta was trying to help, in her own way, he supposed. She was testing his limits and temper, even while balancing comforting words and attempting to heal her little sisterâs mental wounds. Not to mention navigating the strange, untrained gift of Elainâs.
It wasnât often that Azriel came to the house of wind proper. When he did, he usually confined himself to the dining area and the war room, where the formal dinners and meetings were held. He hadnât walked the halls into the large internal library in a long, long while. No wonder they both had turned their chairs to face him when heâd cracked the door to find them both here.Â
The large windows seemed crowded with the amount of books that surrounded them. The only source of light, aside from the twinkling magic fueled ones above. The room had always made Azriel feel claustrophobic, and now it set him on edge in a way different than it had before.Â
Especially when Elainâs eyes bored into his own. His skin felt like it was shifting, pulling and pushing from just beneath. He was beginning to wonder if the healers had somehow missed a parasite of some kind. Something new perhaps, something theyâd never seen before.
Elainâs eyes widened, her cheeks going from the pink blush to sickly pale in an instant. Her expression was unfocused, hazy - as if she were drunk. Azriel suddenly felt like he was intruding, like seeing her so vulnerable was something reserved for only those close to her.Â
Nesta placed a hand on her shoulder and rubbed her sisterâs back comfortingly. It was about as tender as Azriel had ever seen her, even with Cassian. He watched the hands that rubbed the Seer, recalling the intense desire heâd once felt for her. Embarrassment coated his cheeks, distracting him from the physical pain for a moment.
Heâd wanted to be that support for her, once. Nestaâs hand seemed to grow in his vision, the embroidered collar of Elainâs nightshirt with it. He blinked rapidly, trying to refocus. The blackness around his eyes did not recede though. His bones ached, and his headache stabbed at him like a branding iron. He rubbed his temple, squeezing his eyes shut.Â
âShe needs help.â Elain gasped, coughing on a breath. Azriel wavered on his heels, something hard hitting his back, crushing his wings.Â
He could barely hear the high strung sound of Elainâs voice. âShe needs help, Azriel!â
+
He tore though the court, dragging Kier kicking and frothing with him. Heâd received a few severe wounds from the cruel male, but nothing that a few patches of his siphons couldnât hold together.Â
The gushing stab wounds could wait. He had something far more important to tend to.
âYouâre a bastard, a low-born inconsequential bastard, Shadowsinger.â Kier coughed as Azriel dragged his broken body with him. The crowd pushed and writhed around them, but his outstretched dagger kept any of the patrons from advancing. Several dark looks, hisses of death closed in around him, but he plowed through them all, working his way to the catacombs behind the stone chair that served as Rhysâs dark throne.Â
âI may be a bastard-â Azriel grunted through his pain, now more fevored and intense than before. It was a wonder heâd even been able to make it here, but it did explain his sloppy handling of Kier once heâd found the male.Â
âBut at least I didnât sell a daughter off as stock.â He tossed the would-be-king to the locked door of the catacombs, a part of him enjoyed the thunk his head made against the stone floor, even through the intense agony that ripped through him.Â
This was not the place to show weakness. If he let his shadows drop, let the air of anything but a cold hearted killer go for even a moment heâd be trampled by the crowd.Â
Kier rose slowly, muttering curses while he pulled out a key and slid the door to the side. He sketched a bow, waving Azriel in. Spit landed at Azriels feet as he crossed the threshold, and he hesitated in his step. A hiss rang out behind him, shuffling feet a song as the crowd quickly scooted back. He held his stance there for a moment, collecting the wrath that built in him. It writhed and twisted in his mind, his guts, his teeth throbbing with the urge to tare out Kierâs throat.Â
The blistering heat flared again, this time in his jaw and he moved down the hall, towards the cells that an unfortunate assistant to Kier had described.Â
Heâd made their death quick, painless.Â
+
You couldnât scream, could hardly breathe with the weight that seemed to be growing in your chest.Â
Not weight exactly, more like pressure. Internal pressure, like there was lava built up inside you with nowhere to go. And every rattling breath seemed to give it more life. You wheezed, weak with the exhaustion of fighting it.Â
Your friend had given you three more of the injections, and promptly left when you began struggling against the binds at your hands and feet. One of them had ripped, you only knew because that was the hand that youâd used to claw at your chest with.Â
The blood made going any further too slippery and exhausting.
There were far away sounds, but it all seemed too strange, so disjointed to be real. Screams and sharp clangs of metal, breaking glass and thudding.Â
Your eyes slipped closed, and relief washed over you. The pressure eased, and the squeaky hinges of the door opened. Had death finally come? Was this the end of your cycle, and now they were bringing in a new victim to Kierâs experiments?Â
There wasnât much of a goodbye to the world, though. As sad as it was to not be able to see your family again, you were just grateful that the pain was receding. That finally thereâd be no injections, no innocent rabbit and certainly no Kier around.Â
The sounds were strange, a choking, strangled sound like the first time youâd killed the rabbit. Your eyes cracked open almost involuntarily to see what had happened.Â
Outside your cell in a glow of blue light was a winged male, his hand wrist deep inside your friendâs chest.Â
+
Blood is hotter than most people think it is. Azriel takes joy in it though, when itâs the blood of the truly vile ones. The male with the syringes and log book reeked of something spiced and foreign, something Azrielâd never encountered before. He would have asked, would have talked to the male if heâd not pulled a knife and threatened to âkill herâ as he backed away.Â
There were no thoughts after that. And as he fell to the floor, Azriel reveled in the maleâs labored breathing. Relief and heat flooded him, prickling him with a soaring joy heâd thought abandoned him long ago. He could laugh, if it werenât for the absurdity of how it sounded to laugh at this moment.
 He plucked the book from his hands and shoved it into his belt behind him, his chest thrumming with joy.
Heâd never been so filled with glee before, so overwhelmed with it after killing⊠Had he become broken in a sick way? Was he no better than the male heâd just killed? He looked to his hand, twisting it in the low light of his siphons.Â
A wet, weak cough echoed off the walls and he spun, knife ready.Â
Then the blade was on the floor as he rushed to the bars of the cell door, ripping it free of the rusted hinges.Â
The female was gaunt, and frail. Yet his chest sang and though she looked moments from death, he couldnât imagine more beauty.Â
She clutched her chest, the blood there crusted and dry. âThanks.â She croaked, voice barely a whisper. Shadows mounted around him, enclosing them in complete black. He would have thought he was winnowing if it weren't for the sorry excuse for a bed that stayed beneath her.
Azrielâs lips were moving, but he couldnât tell what he was saying, even to his own ears. His mind, his body was a rushing river of every emotion at once, all cascading through his mind, to his chest and thrumming in his blood. Her eyes went wide and wild, searching his for a moment. His heart thundered in his ears.
What had his life been until now? Why was this moment such a climax to him so suddenly? All of it, the pain the agony, the stark moments of joy against it all - the brief moments of shared happiness that made it all worth it tore through his body like a flash floor.Â
Tears pricked his eyes, and it was a curious thing to see them fall onto her neck and wash away the blood there.Â
Then, a wet sigh from her lips, and her eyes stopped searching his. The rush of joy and sense of sanctuary ceased. His blood went quiet in his ears, and the room felt suddenly cold. The room silent around him, not even his shadows dared whisper.
His fingers hesitated over her cheek. When her next breath did not come, he shook her gently. Her eyes remained, staring blankly at the ceiling.Â
This was truly a tomb now.Â
âNoâŠâ He heard his own words that time. The word clattered through the cell like a bell tolling, echoing.
âTake her back.â A shadow hissed over his ear, caressing.Â
He shook her again, the tears boiling over now, panic gripping him.Â
âWe know how.â another said. This voice was different, the same whispered tone and suggestion, but this was not one of his pets. He sent his own shadows skittering away, and a group of them stayed, unbound to him and unmoving from the cell. His heart skipped, fear upon fear pulling him into the icy abyss of despair.Â
His own shadows returned, a broken syringe floating to him on their behest. They mingled with the others, reveling and dancing together though Azriel felt that he was slowly sinking.
âWhat am I supposed to do with this?!â He shouted at them, at nothing. He had truly lost his mind, hadnât he?
âSave her.â The strange shadows told him. Just like Elain had said, overtaken by her visions.
 A tendril of the foreign shadow wrapped around his hand, locking the glass pieces there and slicing into his palm. The needle aimed directly to her chest, between the ribs, only a few inches from the heart.Â
And what did he have to lose? The silence that surrounded him now was almost worse than the pain had been. Wouldn't pain at least be better than complete nothingness? To feel completely blank and unwritten as a being?
With a breath, and a part of his siphonâs power to support the broken syringe, he pushed into her skin. His own blood dribbled down the sides, mixing with hers. Through and through - until he knew that heâd met the same depth of a killing blow to an opponentâs heart.Â
+
âSide, block, strike.â Cassianâs orders came out in demanding, practiced tones. Each step, each swipe of your blade met with one of Azrielâs shadows as a shield.Â
His were still much, much stronger than yours, even after months of practice with them. Even with him showing you very intimately just how much they were capable of. Your cheeks blushed at the reminder of that.Â
âNo distractions, keep that shadow talk in the bedroom, Az.â Cassian scolded.
A smirk played at your mateâs face, and he hit you with a surprise swipe at your feet, left unprotected by your own shadows.Â
You fell on your ass, cursing.Â
Azriel offered a hand, panting at the exertion the sparring had taken. You were proud of that, at least.Â
The first six months of training had been dedicated to building stamina, gaining back weight and muscle while balancing training your shadows to obey you. Six months ago, being able to spar with your mate had seemed like a far off dream that youâd never be capable of doing.Â
But with his training, and Cassianâs encouragement, you were almost able to take him on stride for stride. Almost.Â
So, you took his hand and pulled him towards you for a kiss. Then knocked his knees out from behind with a wave of your own shadows.
You smirked, and offered him a hand while Cassian boomed with laughter.
He allowed you to help him up, but cleaned in close, pecking a kiss on your cheek.Â
âYouâll pay for that later.â He said in an intimate tone. A lick of his shadow wrapped around your thigh, snaking upwards.Â
âPromise?â Your eyes sparkled at him, and the pain all those months ago had been worth it for this.Â
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LONGING âš
Javier Peña x f!reader
Summary: His longing for you is going to be the death of him, especially if he thinks he isn't good enough
Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of paid sex
A/N: it's been a long time since I managed to write something more than a headcanon, but you know, it feels I'm back, modestly and Pedro Pascal and his smooth clean shaven plus mustache face is to blame for my return, it has awakened something in me
1.5k words
Javier was embarrassed, ashamed and mortified. He didn't want to do that, to ask you that, but at the same time he really did. More than that, he was desperate, he needed to ask and to know your answer. When he stepped inside your apartment earlier, all he could think of was standing by your side and taking care of you, while you went through another one of your dreadful migraine episodes. At first he was really torn between showing up or not, worried that would make him look like a sick lovey puppy, but at the same time, it was exactly what he was and even if he couldn't be with you in that way, he still wanted to be a part of it and enjoy some time with you, allowing himself to pretend there was something more than just the bond you two shared over a total unexpected friendship that grew between you both. He liked spending time with you overall, more so when you were alright, excited and willing to have a drink, go out, dance or just act as the only ray of sunshine that truly mattered in his life; but there was something about just standing silently next to you, making you a cup of tea and playing with your strands of hair very gently it made him come running to you every single time he sensed you weren't doing that well.
No matter if the lights were dimmed, if the TV was low and you were lying on the couch, your head on his lap as his fingers ran through your hair and he could just enjoy how cozy everything around him was. He still had a question, a doubt hammering his chest and it made him uneasy, needing to let it go and just get to the bottom of it as soon as possible.
âCariñoâŠâ Javi's voice was soft as you opened your eyes at his calling, it always made you flutter to be addressed like that by him â...can I ask you a question?â
âYeah, JaviâŠâ
âI-I like this woman⊠I don't know how to approach her, and what should I do?â
There he said it. It was out in the open, his pathetic question aimed at you with a slightly shaken voice, he felt his cheeks burning with embarrassment as he felt himself back in the seventh grade. He needed to know, he needed to open up and tell you you were that woman, he needed to see if he had any chance with you, but then, he couldn't bring himself into doing it, it was paralyzing, because it wasn't just lust, or a silly crush, it was more than that, it was craving, passion, love.
You, on the other hand, couldn't help but laugh softly, not sure where that joke was coming from. Why was Javier talking like an inexperienced schoolboy was a mystery to you, so raising your head from his lap and sitting straight up on the couch, staring at him with a confused frown, you could see there was no laughter, not even a smirk, he was completely serious about his question and you felt unsure what to say.
âOh.. you mean that?! I'm sorry..â you chuckled a little embarrassed and licked your lips thinking of what to say next, being honest was always the best and the go to option between the two of you âwell, Javi that's surprising, I mean, you are Javier Peña, women like you, not the other way around you know what I mean? You can get any girl you want, so this one just made you lost?â
Javi took a deep breath and ran his hand through his jaw, looking at you and nodding, making it so obvious his discomfort.
âYeahâŠâ his hand traveled through his hair still shyly âI just like her, for real⊠thought it wouldn't happen to me, the idea of, you know, being in love seemed so distant. I don't know what to doâ
âIs this like Lorraine?â
Javi chuckled at that; the only love reference you ever got from him was a woman he left at the altar when he wasn't much more than a teenager. He was a mess, not being able to develop a single meaningful relationship in his life and suddenly aiming for it with you, while you weren't even aware of that. Shaking his head, he looked into your eyes
âNo, Lorraine was different⊠I liked her, but I didn't love her. I was also younger, immature and a real dick, but that was long ago and she forgave me and found a decent man to build a family with. This is different now, I don't know what to do, what to say, I feel I'm not enoughâŠâ
âWell JaviâŠâ
âAll I'm saying is that I feel I'm not worthy, you know? What could I do so she would see I'm real..â
âYou can always stop the whoring, Javiâ
You shrugged and smiled, sort of joking at the same time he tilted his head and watched you attentively, he wasn't expecting that answer but now he got it, he was intrigued.
âWhat I mean is that if you want to show this girl you like her, you gotta stop going after any women, no prostitutes, that kind of stuff. You see, if it were me for example, it would be a deal breaker, I wouldn't want to be with a man who does that. No offense Javi, you are a great guy, but in a romantic sense I guess no woman would be okay with knowing their boyfriend is well-known all over the whorehouses in Bogota⊠it would be embarrassing, humiliating even, to know whenever you get into a place with your boyfriend everyone knows he's been sleeping aroundâ
Javier went silent. His heart dropped to the pit of his stomach as he stared into your eyes. That's what you thought of him; he knew you didn't mean to offend him, you knew you didn't judge him for his ways of life, as long as you remained in the friendship area. It was as clear as the sky you would never be involved with him. He couldn't even blame you for it, only himself for ever thinking he could have a shot with you. He didn't know what to say, he wasn't necessarily offended, he was simply disappointed in himself and his unrealistic expectations, he was heartbroken because he had ruined everything before he could even start it.
âY-you think she wouldn't be with me because of that?â
You noticed how upset Javi seemed and you immediately regretted the words you'd said. You were so used to being honest and straightforward towards him, it didn't even occur to you your words could hurt him. Words never seemed to hurt Javier Peña in the first place, so why was that so different? It didn't make any sense to you, sighing you looked into his beautiful sad eyes once more.
âI don't know her, Javi⊠maybe this isn't a big deal for her, all I'm saying is that if it were me, I wouldn't be okay with it, I guess, but you're a wonderful man, no matter what and if she's worthy of you, she'll love and accept you no matter whatâ
âYou think I'm disgusting?â
His words broke your heart, you could never think that of him, he was your Javi, and even if you didn't agree with his way of living, you cared about him. Placing your hands on his cheek and caressing them gently.
âOf course not, Javi⊠I am just jealous I guess, I wouldn't want that many women around my man, and I think you deserve so much better than that. You are handsome, sweet, intelligent, you shouldn't have to pay for that, you should be able to have a familyâŠâ
You said sweetly and Javi gave you a sweet, sad smile, you didn't know if he agreed or not, but he held your hand in his and stroked it with his thumb. He'd always been so gentle with you, he was often much better than you deserved it. Whoever that girl was, she was damn lucky.
âDo you mean that, cariño?â
âYes, amorâŠâ
Javi's heart raced as you called him that. Amor. Love. Could it possibly be it? Perhaps he did have a chance?
âYou know Javi, the embassy ball is coming, maybe you should invite your girl to come with youâ you suggested and he chuckled, it was his turn to place his hands on your cheeks, always dwarfing them with how big he was compared to you. Javi still wondered if you were playing hard to get or if you really hadn't realized you were his girl.
âYou're right cariño, but I could invite anyone in the world, and none of them would be as beautiful as you areâ
He loved you, his heart ached from the longing he felt, he didn't know if he had a chance with you, sometimes he thought so, and sometimes he was sure you were way out of his league, but one thing he knew for sure: he'd love you for the rest of his life no matter what.
____
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reader breaking anh!lukeâs innocence and filling every sexual desire heâs had cuz heâs the chosen one and deserves it:(( <3
Ooh yeah.... love it. â€ïž some sexy thoughts about this prompt below the cut (18+ only!) - also, yay! My first ask!!! (Thanks @weirdogirl888)
- Luke is still feeling awkward about being thought of as a 'chosen' one
- actually he really wants to be considered just a normal guy in your eyes; he can't take the pressure to lean into the expectations of being the one with a girl, especially for a first time....
- he eyes you and knows you have been fluttering your eyes in your direction. He's enjoying the attention...
- and loves your attributes, eyes, lips and curves...
- it was seeing him in that flight suit that started those sexy sweet thoughts for you
- of course, after blowing up that Death Star, (first time) celebrations are in order... giving him the courage to actually kiss you too (and dreaming of more)
- he's had those naughty private thoughts before... dreaming about having a sneaky feel up in his x-wing, or perhaps you kissing down his treasure trail...
- but as soon as he's back, he knows he wants to actually touch you...
- the moment you see him, you pull him aside, feeling bold thar this chosen one *evidently* desires you back...
- your hands cannot help but touch his strong arms, his firm chest, and brush his cheek in kindness to settle him as he's trembling with anticipation
- "tell me what you want", you whisper, and he shudders in anticipation
- "I don't know how to ask" he blushes, until you begin kissing his neck
- your hands wander and pull down the zip of that flight suit
- and he doesn't fight it.... [he's loving it]
- in fact, he evidently adoring all of your attention, tenting slightly in excitement...
- he cannot believe you want him as much as he has privately touched himself thinking of you... wanting you
- he's sensing your arousal through the force
- and still working up the courage to touch your body as he craves....
- your body is so warm to his touch, and you take his hands to place them on your chest, showing him how hot his touch is making you...
- your nipples stand to attention
- your hand continues to trail down towards his growing member
- and it springs to proud attention at the hint of your fingers wandering beneath his flight briefs
- he's beading already (and it's so hot to you, you lick your lips in excitement)
- "show me" you ask firmly and seductively... "exactly as you dreamed when you touched yourself before the mission"
- he sighs heavily, drunk on desire as your body is firmly pressed against his...
- in your mind's eye, his warmth is projected out to you... the warmth hardness of his cock now firmly the centre of his lust.
- you instinctively know he wants you to suck it, lapping at his hardness
- its size and girth is most impressive [better than you hoped]
- he sighs with your palmed touch, causing him to leak and moan. You tease your fingers up his virginal shaft...
- "tell me..." you whisper... as you lower yourself on your knees
- "put me in your mouth" he whimpers as you lick his rosy head beading with salty want
- you take him deeper and deeper ... taking him all in... bobbing up and down to his breathy moans of anguished delight
- he's wanted this moment for so long
- until you feel a twitch that is unmistakable... he's getting close...
- but you don't stop now...
- you see him watching a holoporn in his mind's eye, a memory of discovery of women's bodies, and it's so hot
- he likes tits, a lot, and can't help wondering what women taste like...
- he cums to the thought of pussy in his memory of watching the holoporn... he's so inexperienced and eager...
- now he's here with a woman and he can cum with her this time...
- running your hand between the wet folds of your velvet, you ask him to open his mouth to receive your glistening middle finger....
"Taste me" you command... and he licks your finger deeply....
- the taste sends him wild, breaking his lingering shyness.
- He MUST have you. He MUST taste you...
- he may be the one but your pussy has him on his knees now, stripping off your dress and panties with fervour
- he drives his tongue in... determined to greedily taste all of you, much to your loud moans.
- soon his face is coated in your juices, as he whimpers with delight at your whimpers and his occasional pumping of his cock with his hand
- the other hand reaches up to squeeze your magnificent tits, running his open palm across your pert pink nipples over and over.
- he squeezes each tit in turn
- it's quite a sight to see the chosen one worshipping your folds with such need, whimpering with joy...
- you imagine you are being watched in this joyful explosion of lust
- at the thought of being seen, you cum quickly and powerfully on his tongue with shouts of praise - "you're doing so well" you affirm. "My good jedi"
- still he's pumping his huge throbbing cock, his erection agonisingly wanting you
- "do it" you shout... sensing his hunger... "fuck me as you dreamed" you whimper, not waiting to recover from your own explosion, your knees trembling in ecstacy
- now he's in control, now he's gonna have you...
- he spins you around, your bust pressed into the base wall, your ass rubbing up against his swollen rod... he doesn't care if anyone sees....
- he pushes in, slowly at first, and seconds later all the way, hilt deep, and exclaims at the tight, wet sensation
- he's finally fucking you... exactly as he wanted.
- he pushes in slowly and steadily, building up a good rhythm
- he feels so big
- his hands rubbing your arms and back, and soon gripping your hip and running across your breasts
- you feel so wet, he begins to chase release in this feeling of bliss
- you shudder and shake, the sensation so overwhelming in his force projections, and his body so alive with pleasure in your slick folds, your pussy gripping him tightly
- he feels so enraptured, he almost can't take it... it's better than he dared dream
- you can't take much more of it either... his cock is too deliciously big to bear. You sweat at the touch of this man within you have unleashed
- "come for me" you shout, not caring who hears [and someone did hear]
- "come with me" he begs you...
- and you hear it as an order... an order from the chosen one
- your pussy squeezes him, clamps his fullness hard as you cry out "yes, yes! More please... Luke!!!"
- he thrusts hungrily, pushing deeper than ever, and you feel his pink head swell within
- he moans loudly, and shudders "Oh maker, yes baby" as he erupts white ropes inside your wet velvet
- your core pounds and spasms at the feel of his cum hitting your walls, soaking your sex
- he grips you tightly in his arms, clutching you close, his mouth buried in your neck... he moans again and again, coming so hard....
- you both finish, and he lets you go, loosely cuddling your body in your sweaty shared afterglow
- his kisses are lusty and awkward, but playful as he smiles with deep satisfaction
- "we are doing that again!" You smile as you reassemble your simple dress... your breasts still perky and arousal wholly evident
- he gushes in joy, and hugs you in delight. "How about tonight?" He asks as he looks into your eyes... "we need to celebrate"
- "yes, we do" you breathe out and smile... "many times".
Hope you like!! â€ïžđđ„”đ
#luke skywalker#mark hamill#so freaking hot#luke skywalker smut#asks#star wars#luke skywalker x reader#yum yum#sex god#gotta get me some luke#some sexy ideas
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Take Me Home - Part 7
Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. ReaderÂ
Summary: You are another lost soul at Sunny Day Excursions. Youâre aiming to settle in Helena, Montana, where Beau Arlen is the new sheriff in town. But youâve both got a past youâre running from.Â
AN: For everyone who has Easter plans tomorrow (Happy Easter!), I decided to release this part a bit early. And yes, weâre at that part of the season 3 plotlineâŠ
Word Count: 6.6K
Tags/Warnings: Major angst, survival situations, violence, hurt/comfort.
â€ïž Series Masterlist
Part 7: On the Edge of a Knife
Beau returned home that night with a large pizza for Carla and Emily. Heâd already eaten with you an hour ago, but true to his legendary appetite, he still found room for a slice of pepperoni. They got comfortable around the fire out in front of his trailer.
âWhat held you up?â Carla asked.
Beau sighed and first wiped a bit of sauce from his face with a napkin. He admitted there was an altercation between you and your ex-boyfriend, Michael Hadley. Beau happened to be there in time to settle things down and help patch you up after you fell through a glass coffee table.
âOh my God. Is she okay?â Emily asked. Beau noted her concern with a smile.
âSheâs fine. Some minor cuts and bruises,â he said. âBut I had to encourage the guy to leave town. If heâs got any sense, heâll get gone.â
Emily looked relieved at that. Then she eyed him with a suspicious smile.
âAnd you just happened to be in the neighborhood?â she asked slyly, voicing the thought that Carla hadnât wanted to.
Both women watched him closely, but Carla knew the tell-tale signs of Beau covering his embarrassment, giving his daughter a wry look.
âAll right, smart Alec. Why donât you break out the extra sheets I got in the trailer? Weâll set up the bed and the couch.â
âIf you can call that glorified bench a couch,â Emily muttered with a grin.Â
âEy!â Beau called after her, though he watched her go in amusement.
After a couple more hours of chatting and catching up, showers taken and plates washed, Emily headed for bed. The adults stayed up for a while, bundled in warm coats as they sat together by the fire.
Beau remembered what Emily told him days ago; that he hadnât needed to be a perfect man for his wife and daughter. Theyâd just needed him to be a bit more honest about what he was going through, to let them in. After what happened today with you, your patience and understanding with himâŠhe was beginning to get what she meant.
âIâm really thankful for you helping us,â Carla said. It unearthed him out of his own head.
âYeah,â he replied with a nod.
Admittedly, he was still a bit distracted. Besides how he left things with you (which still made heat crawl up the back of his neck), he still had Avery and that stolen money to worry about. Otherwise known as the reason Carla and Emily would have to cram themselves in his little trailer.
âHey, whatâs going on?â Carla prodded, laying a gentle hand on his arm.
âI just got a bad feeling about all this,â he confessed. âItâs like in Houston with Randy.â
âNo,â she shook her head. âYou canât go there.â
âItâs too late,â he replied. ââCause it feels the same. Like somethingâsâŠsomething is cominâ, and Iâm powerless to stop it.â
âRandyâs death was not your fault,â she reminded him. Just like you had.
Beau looked over at her with a humorless quirk of his lips.
âWe both know thatâs not true. He was my partner and I let him down. And thenâŠthen I wasnât there for you, or Emily. I donât blame you for leaving me.â
Carla couldnât help it, but a part deep inside her had been regretting that choice. Her eyes burned with unshed tears. She managed to blink and keep them at bay, though she let out a shaky breath.
âWell, youâre here for us now,â she said. And yet, she couldâve predicted his next words like clockwork.
âIt donât make up for the way I checked out,â he said.
Carla licked her dry lips and swallowed down the emotion clogging her throat. She didnât cry often. She could have an ironclad grip on her emotions when she needed to.
It was part of what made her a good lawyer. She knew Beau had sometimes gotten frustrated with that aspect of her personality in the past, because he was the opposite.
The man kept a good lid on things for his job, but at heart, he was driven by his passion, his anger, his love, and right now, his bone-deep guilt and shame.
She knew heâd been drowning in it for a year and hadnât known how to pull him out. Every time he pushed her away, it had hurt her, hardened her, making her will to try again less and less. So she left him.Â
It was the choice she made, and she knew she had to live with it. Just like marrying Avery.
Carla laid a hand on Beauâs over his knee. She made sure he looked her in the eyes when she said this.
âI forgive you. For all of that, okay?â she said. After a moment, he nodded. This time, she felt like he actually heard her.
âBut Iâm telling you, this thing with AveryâŠthis isnât over by a long shot,â he told her. âIâm not saying that to scare you. You understand that?â
âYeah,â she nodded, even though those tears from earlier were working their way down her face. She wiped them away hastily.
âIâm not gonna let anything happen to you two,â Beau said, in a firm, reassuring tone.
It worked, and it didnât. Carla nodded again. âI know.â
He sighed through his nose and squeezed her hand. His gaze shifted away, back to the bonfire dancing in front of them. His eyes stung at both the smoke, and the emotion rising in his chest. He steeled himself.
âCarla, Iâll always love youâŠâ
She smiled slightly, brushing the remaining tears from her cheek.
âThough I sense a but coming,â she said.
When she said your name in question, Beau glanced back over at her and nodded. Carla had been his first real love, besides Daisy Harlow in the eleventh grade.
But you were unexpected. How quickly, how deeply youâd gotten under his skin was too hard to ignore. And at this point, he didnât want to.
Meanwhile, Carla stared at her ex-husband in bemusement. She slipped her hand from his and folded hers back in her lap.
âWhatâs she like?â she asked. Half of her was genuinely curious. The other half would rather not hear his answer, but she supposed it was only fair. She was the one who moved on first.
Still, the flicker of Beauâs soft smile stung, just a little.
âSheâs special,â he said. âResilient, like you. And smart to boot. You know sheâs a college professor?â
âYeah, Emily told me,â Carla said.Â
Beauâs smile dimmed when he noted the resignation in her voice. She gave him a knowing look.Â
âI have no right to complain,â she said. âAnd you deserve to be happy too, Beau.â   Â
He considered that with a nod. He wasnât sure if he believed her, but for your sakeâŠhe would try.
âCan you promise me something?â Carla asked.Â
âName it,â he said.
âI know Avery is in this thing deep. He lied to me and he created this mess. Even when this is over, I donât know whatâs going to happen between us. I know Iâm asking a lot of you, but please, look out for him,â she implored. Beau uttered a wry chuckle and rubbed at his chin.
âHe is in this deep. And heâs being stubborn about it,â he said. âI might not be able to help him walk it back, but I will try.â Â
Carla released another sigh and nodded in response. She supposed that was the best she could hope for.Â
A few days later, you walked up and down the grocery store aisles with a basket in one hand and your phone against your ear with the other.
âOkay, Iâve got all manners of junk food and chick-flick movie watching snacks, including Reeseâs cups, ice cream, frozen pizzas, and no less than three bottles of wine,â you said. âAm I missing anything?â
âI donât think so, hun. That sounds very comprehensive,â Denise replied.
She was at work, and you were still getting ready for the fall semester. It was only a little over a month away, which meant you were excited, and also nervous.
You had five classes on your roster. Youâd also visited Carroll College yesterday to set up your office with all your books, both textbooks and your favorites in fiction and non-fiction (but mostly fiction). Much Ado About Nothing was front and center in the Shakespeare section of your shelf.
You also wanted to at least try and relax for the rest of your summer. Denise was all too willing to help. Youâd always had a good relationship with your aunt, albeit distant, since youâd lived in different states.
Living so close now just made you realize how much you two had in common. It was nice to find a friend in her, not just someone who would try to mother you in your own motherâs absence.Â
âYes! Good. Then get ready to brainstorm what movies weâre gonna watch tonight, and in what order,â you said.
âOh, donât pretend like you donât already have a color-coded checklist,â Denise quipped.
You laughed. Yes, she knew you too well. âOkay, maybe I do, but you still get a vote.â
You turned a corner in the aisles and nearly ran right into Carla, who was pushing a cart. You both jolted in surprise and recognition.
âOh, hi! Iâm sorry,â you said, at the same time she said, âSorry, IâŠâ
You two did the polite, nervous laughter people did when put in awkward situations. You noticed all the food she had in her cartâenough to feed a family of three for the week.
âYeah, finally getting around to doing a grocery run,â she said. âBeauâs trailer leaves much to be desired in the form of amenities, soâŠâ
You adopted a more amused smile. âYeah, heâs not much of a cook, is he?â
âDo frozen fish sticks count?â Carla remarked.
âOnly if thereâs expired tartar sauce, according to Emily,â you joked. The two of you shared a laugh that was a little more genuine. You chatted for a couple minutes more before you parted with amiable handwaving. Then you realized that your aunt was still hanging on the line.
You sighed and put your phone back up to your ear. âHey, sorry.â
âWas that who I think it was?â Denise asked. She was probably trying to be cryptic, if Emily was in the room with her.
âIndeed, it was. Doing a nice family-sized grocery run,â you whispered back, to make sure you werenât overheard. You brought your basket of junk to one of the checkout lines.
âWhen was the last time you heard from him?â Denise asked. She mustâve heard the heaviness in your voice. You both knew exactly who âhimâ was code for. Beau frigginâ Arlen.
âNot since we said goodbye last week,â you replied. And the memory of that kiss had been torturing you for days. It had also been the fuel of manyâŠlate nights with yourself.
Speaking of which, need some more AA batteries, you thought with a warm blush.
âOkay, forget candy. We should get cheesecake,â Denise proposed.
You smiled. âYou know what, thatâs a damn good idea. Definitely cheesecake.â
You hopped out of line to do just that. You knew it probably wouldnât be as good as Chicago made, but you went over to the bakery side of the store and hunted for the most good-looking cheesecake you could find.
âHey, if you want, stop by here later,â your aunt said. âEm is here. Weâll grab lunch, make it a real girlsâ day.â
âSure,â you agreed. You hadnât seen Emily in a week or so either. âWhere are you thinking? Iâve been wanting to try that Indian place down the street from your office.â
âSounds good to me. Come over after you drop those groceries off at home.â
âOkay, will do. Iâll see you guys soon!â you said.Â
Beau knew that he was going to be working straight through lunch. What he, Jenny, and Cassie had discovered in the past 24 hours was deeply unsettling.Â
Not only was Walter Sunny Barnesâs son, but Paige was alive. Sheâd been found in the foyer of Sunnyâs home, brandishing a knife, convinced the married couple were in it together on her kidnapping. Sunny claimed sheâd had no idea her husband had taken the poor girl and kept her in a shack for days.
According to Paigeâs testimony, Buck Barnes had tried to kill her. And since she was alive, it meant Walter had lied in confessing to her murder. It was also likely that he hadnât killed Mary or Luke either.
That wasnât even the worst of Beauâs headache.
He rubbed his face in frustration after getting off the phone with Carla. Thanks to this whole business of Averyâs stolen cryptocurrency, she was being followed.Â
Fuckinâ hell, Beau thought. The next time he saw Avery, it had better be with handcuffs, or he was going to start working on his punch list for real. Instead, Beau grabbed his cell and called his daughter.
âHey, Dad,â she answered on the third ring.
âHey, honey. You doinâ all right? You good?â he asked. Maybe he was coming on a little strong, but worry was a living thing inside his gut.
âYeah, totally. Just doing some researchâŠbut guess whoâs coming to have lunch with us later?â she asked.
Her tone was leading him somewhere, and Beau thought he knew the destination. His lips curved with a half-smile. When he guessed your name, Emily confirmed.
âYouâre welcome to join us. If, you know, you wanted to,â she teased.
Beauâs smile twisted with disbelief. Was his daughter trying to set him up? And better yet, it seemed like she liked you well enough to do it. While the thought warmed him, his smile dimmed.
âWish I could, but uh, I got a lot of work here to do. Iâm justâŠchecking up on ya, like dads do,â he said.
As much as he wanted to see you (and he really, really did), he wasnât lying. He needed to follow up on the man whoâd trailed Carla to the drycleaners this morning. And he already had Jenny and Poppernak looking into finding Buck Barnes. Heâd fled the scene after Paige and Sunny were picked up at the Barnes residence.
âWell, okay, consider me checked. We can talk later if you want,â Emily said. She sounded a bit disappointed. Beau felt guilty for that, but heâd make it up to her tonight. Maybe heâd bring home some takeout so Carla didnât have to cook again in his tiny kitchenette.
âAll right, honey. If not, Iâll see you tonight,â he said. âJustâŠdonât go anywhere by yourself, okay? Make sure Denise or Cassieâs with you. Matter of fact, Iâll pick you up from there today.â
âYeah sure,â she said. Though he didnât think she really heard the warning in his voice.
ââKay. Bye, Dad.â
She hung up, leaving Beau still feeling off-balanced. Until news came in from a fellow officer: while Paige had been brought to the hospital, Sunny Barnes had been brought into the station for questioning about her husband.
âSorry Iâm so late. I started cleaning my apartment and lost track of time,â you said, walking into the office of Dewell & Hoyt. Denise and Emily waved at you from their respective desks.
âThatâs okay. Weâve been busy here,â Denise said. You looked at the large pinboard on the wall filled with news clippings and pieces of evidence. Bleeding Heart Killer, read many of the subject lines.
âEch. Still working on this?â you asked.
âUnfortunately,â said Denise. She grabbed up her purse and went over to kiss your cheek in greeting. âBut we mightâve gotten a huge break on it. Iâll tell you all about it when I get back.â
âGet back? Whereâre you going?â you asked.
âTo get the food! I already placed the orders,â she said, patting your arm. âIâll be right back.â
You gave her a narrowed look. âI was going to pay for itââ
âNo need!â Denise sing-songed on her way out of the office. It had you smiling, shaking your head. You looked over at Emily and tossed a thumb over your shoulder.
âCareful with her. She can be devious,â you said.
Emily smiled and stood up from her desk. She went over to sit with you on the small couch near the center of the room.
âIâm actually glad youâre here,â she said. âIâve kinda got a question for you.â
âKinda?â you echoed with a smile, but you pat her on the knee. âWhatâs on your mind, honey?â
Emily looked a little unsure. It had you giving her your undivided attention.
âItâs about my dad,â she began. Your smile slowly fell, but now you were really listening.
âOkay,â you nodded.
Emily opened her mouth to reply, but before she could, the lights in the entire office went out.
Natural light still came in from the large windows at the front. It was odd though. The weather outside, while chilly, wasnât cold enough to create an outage. You hadnât heard anything fizzle when the lights went out either.
âThatâs weirdââ Emily said.
The back door burst open with the sound of hinges breaking. Both of you gasped and stood from the couch. You slipped a hand into your purse to find your phone, and then the first contact you could think of.
You were about to press the call button when a tall man with broad shoulders stepped through. He was older, balding, and his clothes and neck were stained with blood.
Buck Barnes.
âBuck?â you gasped. âWhatâŠwhatâre you doing here?â
He didnât look like the easy going, kind-hearted man you knew at the camp. Now, he looked haggard, injured, and dangerous, like a wild animal.
âHush up,â Buck held up a silver pistol in his right hand. âAnd drop that phone, nice and slow.â
Your heart was in your throat, but you couldnât just think of yourself. You subtly tried to pull Emily behind you as you set your phone down on the ground.
âYou tried to kill Paige,â Emily accused of the man. It had you turning to her, your eyes going wide. When you looked over at Buck to gauge his reaction, you saw how his lips pursed.
âSit down and shut up,â Buck ordered, gesturing with his gun at both of you. He drew closer and forced you and Emily to sit beside each other on the couch. There he grabbed a roll of duct tape from his pocket and began taping your shaking hands together.
âWhyâre you doing this?â you asked Buck.
âI need some collateral if Iâm gonna get the hell outta dodge,â he replied.
âFine, but let Emily go. Sheâs just a kid,â you begged, as tears stung at your eyes.
Buck just continued taping you up. Thankfully not your feet, just your wrists. He moved to Emily next.Â
âYou donât need her,â you tried again. âCome on, Buck. You really think Beau Arlenâs going to want to work something out with you if you take his daughter?â
âOh, Iâm bettinâ heâll be more than willing.â Buck grabbed you and placed a strip of tape across your mouth, then on Emilyâs. He hooked a large, calloused hand around your arm.
âNow get up.â
âWhat?!â Beau asked. His eyes widened in alarm. âSlow down, Denise. Whatâs going on?â
The more he listened, the more his heart plummeted into his stomach. He had to grip his work desk for balance.
It took him and Jenny under half an hour to meet up with Cassie and Denise back at Dewell & Hoyt, along with a forensics unit of officers. There was evidence of struggle in a turned over table and a broken back door lock.
Denise explained that she left you and Emily for just a few minutes while she went to grab a late lunch order. By the time she returned, the power was out, set off by the breakers, and you and Emily were missing.
Jenny found your purse on the couch, while Beau found your cell phone on the ground. He picked it up with a gloved hand. Heâd seen you unlock your phone enough times to remember your passcode.
When he inputted those six numbers and unlocked the screen, he found his own name and phone number highlighted there. Youâd been about to call him.
He squeezed your phone tight in his hand. He looked up and saw another officer pick up Emilyâs backpack.
âNo power means no surveillance footage,â Jenny said. âOkay, letâs think. Why take her and Emily?â
âItâs gotta do with Avery and the money he stole,â Beau said, grinding his teeth. âI needa find him.â
âAny idea where he might be held up?â Jenny asked.
âCarla will know,â he replied.
âDo you want me to go with you?â Jenny was quick to offer. She could see his rage bubbling.
âNo,â he said, cutting her off with a swift hand. âGet a response team ready, but I donât want anybody doing anything without checking with me!â
He was out the door before any of the women could stop him. Denise was in tears, both for you and for Emily. Cassie wrapped an arm around her shoulders.
âWeâre gonna find them,â she promised.
You and Emily were in the backseat of an SUV. Buck was singing along to some country song, driving them down a highway to hell knows where.Â
The tears had begun to dry on your cheeks. It didnât mean you were no longer petrified, but for Emily, to give her support, youâd been able to keep breathing through it. She was still in panic mode, hyperventilating as tears streamed down her face.
âYâall better quiet down back there,â Buck warned.
You grabbed Emilyâs hands and met her frantic eyes with your calmer ones. You were hoping to reassure her, let her know that while you were scared too, you were with her. She wasnât alone.
She squeezed your hands back, even though it made you wince. Your right hand was still injured. Again, you breathed through it so you could hold her back. You rested the side of your head against hers to try and help steady her further. If you could, you wouldâve held her like a mother bear.
Emily leaned against your side and began to calm down, bit by bit. Meanwhile, Buck continued to talk your ears offâabout country music, and how this particular song was the one he and Sunny danced to at their wedding. Though frankly, you couldnât give a shit about anything that was coming out of his mouth.
All you knew was that it was nighttime, pitch black darkness by the time he pulled into a plaza. It looked like a gas station next to a bar.
Only in Montana, you mused. Though you perked up at attention when Buck parked and actually left the car.
Of course, he took the keys with him and put the child locks on the doors, but you tugged at the duct tape Buck put around your ankles when heâd forced you and Emily into this car. If you could get free, then you could shove your way into the front seat and unlock the doors.
Emily tried to help you. You winced as the tape tugged at your skin. At least I shaved yesterday.
She gasped around her gag when she saw a young man coming their way in the parking lot. You joined her in banging on the window, trying to get his attention.
âOh my God,â you heard him say, muffled as it was through the window. You pointed at the front of the car, trying to communicate to him to break the window open there.
âHold on, Iâll get you guys out of there,â he said. He went to the front of the car and tried at the door handles, but before he could get very far in his attempt to free you, Buck came up behind the younger man and grabbed him in a chokehold.
You and Emily screamed at him, but it was no use. You did your best to shield Emilyâs eyes when Buck snapped the manâs neck.
Bad call, bad leadership, bad police work.
Beau felt the weight of his shame like never beforeâall while he held Carla and rocked her in his arms. Sheâd just arrived at the police station, after getting the news that her husband had been killed.
When he learned that Emily was taken, Avery tried to help Beau and the police confront the men heâd stolen the $15 million from, but Avery had gone rogue by bringing a gun into the equation.
Beau had just one chance to pull Avery out and send in his unit of officers on standby. Jenny had asked him what he wanted to do, hoping he would make the right choice.
Beau had been selfish. He wanted to see if the men would give up the location on where they were holding you and Emily, so he kept Avery in play. Heâd thought the man would be fine with Tonya and Donno backing him up in the room.
After all was said and done, however, Avery lay dead in a pool of his own blood with a bullet in his chest. The criminals also hadnât taken you or Emily.
By process of elimination, Beau now knew it was Buck. The man had already killed a hiker on his way out of the woods, where heâd been holding Paige.
Now it was a whole new manhunt.
âBeau,â Jenny said. âWe have something on Buck.â
It prompted him to drag himself out of the dark spiral of his thoughts. He let Carla go, but kept a supportive hand on her back. She was still distraught, and understandably soânot just for her husband, but for her missing daughter.
Jenny gave Carla a sympathetic look. She beckoned him over though.
âCome see this,â she said.
Beau comforted Carla one moment more, rubbing her back, but she encouraged him to go with Jenny. She led him into another room where Cassie was waiting for them, and Jennyâs laptop was connected to a smart TV.
On the screen was new surveillance footage of a parking lot, outside a bar a few hours out of town. There was a green pickup truck parked next to a black SUV. Beau couldnât see you or Emily, but he watched Buck drag the dead body of a man behind the truck.
âBuck was casing the lot for a car to steal,â Jenny said. âWeâre guessing this unlucky guy found them.â
âIt means theyâre still alive,â Cassie pointed out. Jenny drew attention to the keys, or whatever it was that Buck dropped and picked up off the floor. It was hard to make out from the footage.
Cassie agreed to ask Cormack Barnes if he knew what the keys were for, considering he already had the keys to the pickup trick in his hand when he picked up the fallen set. Beau knew it was time to question Sunny Barnes again.
He headed down the hall to do just that, with Jenny on his heels. Soon though, he found himself slowing down in the hall, like his feet were made of rubber. That, and his heart was fracturing. Jenny slowed down with him, giving him a questioning look.
âItâs justâŠitâs the one thing weâre supposed to do. Protect our kids,â he said. âThe one thing.â
âHey,â she said. Her blue eyes were understanding. âYou couldnât have done anything differently.â
And yet again, they both knew that was a lie. Beau held a curled fist against his lips for a moment, as he tried to swallow down the lump of emotion in his throat.
âSheâs gotta be so scared, Jenny,â he said. His eyes stung, but he tried to blink the unshed tears from his eyes. It wasnât working.
âBoth of them,â he said. âTheyâve gotta be terrified. And every minute we waste chasing our tails just gives that twisted son a bitch a chance to do something to themââ
Jenny grabbed his arm to steady him. âI still think heâs keeping them alive for leverage.â
âWell, I hope youâre right, because thereâs nothing stopping him from making an example from one of them,â he said.
But the moment it escaped his lips, he wished he hadnât uttered the thought out loud. It was too much.
He felt like a failure of a father. That was already destroying him from the inside out. And though heâd vowed to himself otherwise, you got dragged into this too.
Youâd already been through the wringer enough. Beau hadnât even checked in on you in damn near a week since he left your apartment the last time.
Now, youâd been taken by the very same man who murdered your friend Mary. Beau hadnât had the chance to tell youâŠ
He hadnât been able to tell you a lot of things.
And maybe, heâd never get the chance.
The pickup truck Buck stole had a small trailer attached, convenient for stuffing you and Emily in, along with the corpse heâd made of the truckâs owner.
On the long and bumpy ride down the road, youâd been able to search the dead manâs jeans and found a small pocketknife. You pressed a small button to click the blade open. You showed it to Emily, and then tried to cut her bonds.
You only got halfway through when the truck and trailer stopped. Moments later, you smelled gas. Buck was probably stopping for a refill on the pickup truck. You closed the knife and hid it in your hands. That instinct turned out to be a good one, because Buck slid the trailer door open.
You and Emily winced as the bright morning sun hit your bleary eyes. Not only had you not slept all night, but youâd gotten used to the perpetual darkness of the trailer.
âYou girls behaving yourselves back here?â Buck asked.
You and Emily stayed quiet, but fearful. He stepped into the trailer to lower your taped gag, and then the girlâs. He uncapped a water bottle to give her some. It was a strangely humane thing to do, you thought.
But then you realized that he just didnât want you two to pass out of dehydration. He was trying to keep you alive long enough to use you as bargaining chips.
âMy dadâs going to find you,â Emily said, staring up at your captor. Buck chuckled at her cheek.
âYou want water or not?â he asked.
âAnd when he does, heâs gonna kill you,â she said. Buck rolled his eyes and gave her a few sips of water. He offered the bottle to you next.
Instead of drinking, you used his distraction and proximity to pop open the pocketknife and jab it at his face. He pulled back fast, but you managed to sink the three-inch little blade into his neck. Buck backhanded you so hard, it made the side of your face crack against the back of the trailer.
Emily screamed and tried to catch you when you accidentally fell on her shoulder. When you recovered after a bit, blinking the black splotches out of your vision, Buck punched at the spot right above your heads and made you both flinch. By then, heâd taken the little knife out of his neck, even though it made a new wound ooze blood down his shirt.
âForgot to check his pockets,â he gritted out. His anger then bled away, into a dark chuckle. âGettinâ a little rusty.â
He poured out the rest of the water over your boots, but he didnât make any further threats. At least, not physically. He stepped away and began to exit the trailer.
âNext time itâll be gasoline and a lighter,â he warned. âNow both of you, shut the fuck up.â
Then he closed the door, casting you and Emily into darkness once again.
âYou okay?â Emily whispered. You could barely make out her face in the dim light, coming from the smallest crack in the trailer door. You rolled your head her way so you could give her a smile.
âYeah, Iâm fine,â you replied. Truthfully, your head was ringing and aching at the same time. Buck had knocked you out for a few seconds there. Plus, you were exhausted, and hungry, and parched.
âAt least the gags are off,â she said. You nodded, letting out a sigh. You welcomed her to rest on your shoulder and tucked her wrapped hands under yours.
âWeâve just gotta keep holding out,â you said. âIâm sure your dad is on the way.â
Emily nodded in agreement. She believed every word of what sheâd told Buck. She just hoped it was sooner rather than later.
It was much, much later.
Still, you and Emily were no better off. Actually, you were pretty sure this was worse.
Buck had driven you deep into the woods, then forced you to walk what felt like another half-mile until you reached a dusty old shack. Heâd unlocked it and forced you both inside, kneeling in the dirt and dead leaves. Along with the duct tape already around your wrists, heâd tied you both up with ropes around the metal hooks hanging from the short roof.
Even with the gags off, it was hard to breathe in the hot, stuffy woodshed. It felt similar to being buried in a box and left to rot.
You werenât sure how many hours it had been, but the sun was slowly inching by. If you had to guess, it was around mid-afternoon. You were sweating down your neck and back, now uncomfortable while kneeling in the jeans you were wearing. And sometimes, your vision started to blur in and out.
By now you were beyond hunger. Dying of thirst? Quite possibly.
âHowâre you doing?â you asked Emily. She nodded, but she didnât have much energy to talk either.
So instead, you tried to twist your wrists out of the rope. Very quickly you gave yourself burns, however. Buck had tied your bonds so very tight, not to mention the duct tape underneath.
What a fucking asshole, you thought. He couldâve at least left a bottle of water. Or some protein bars.
âHow are they supposed to find us out here?â Emily asked. Her voice was small and coarse with exhaustion. You nudged her knee in comfort.
âThe police will get it out of Buck, Iâm sure,â you said. âEven if Beau canât, damn certain Jenny will.â
You gave her a smile. Emily tried to smile back, but she didnât quite make it there.
âGod, Iâm so thirsty,â she coughed.
âI know, Iâm sorry,â you nodded, letting out a shaky breath. âAll we can do is keep trying to get loose.â
You both tried twisting out of the ropes for a while, but it was no use. You were just going to bruise or cut your wrists further through the tape.
You knew that you and Emily had been in the woods for hours at this point, somewhere in the middle of the mountains. You tried not think about how unlikely it would be that someone actually heard you, let alone found you.
You knew you were the adult in this situation. You had to keep it together for the girl beside you, but after a while, a feeling of desperation and despair rose up again in your chest, no matter how hard you fought it all.
Tears welled up in your eyes, though you tried to breathe through it. Emily nudged your arm this time, giving you a comforting look.
âItâs gonna be okay,â she whispered. âI know Dadâs coming for us.â
Your lip wobbled, but you nodded and sucked in a breath. If she could be strong, then you could tooâŠ
And that was when you started to hear voices. You knew they werenât just in your head, because Emily perked up too. You both called out the best you could to whoever was out there.
You squinted watery eyes when the door to the shed finally slid open.
Beau tested the limitations of Jennyâs SUV on his way out from the woods, and then back into them.Â
At the very least, Buck was dead.Â
Sunny had shot himâbefore they had gotten a location on you and Emily. Beau had been about to have a serious breakdown before Cassie called him.Â
âThey found them,â heâd told Jenny, with red and shining eyes.Â
In another five miles, they reached the old cabin. Cassie had said there was a woodshed attached on the south side. Beau tore out of the car and sprinted up a hill, through a patch of dense trees, until he found the cabin and the shed.Â
Cassie and Cormack were talking to someone just out of Beauâs eyeline, but his gaze focused on his daughter. The moment Emily saw him, she brightened and ran to him. He met her in the middle, grabbing her tight and secure in his arms.
His tears burned in his eyes and fell as he held her, comforted her, rubbing her back. She held onto him just as tightly.
He struggled and failed to keep himself together. Relief wasnât even the word for how he felt; it was beyond words.
And it was almost unreal to be able to hold his daughter and see that she didnât look hurt, just shaken.
âIâve gotcha, sweetheart,â he said. âGod, Iâve got you.â
Letting out the deepest breath, Beauâs gaze ventured past his daughter and up ahead. There he found you, being supported by Cassie up the hill. Beauâs eyes widened.
You were rubbing your wrists. They looked raw. Your eyes were also red and watery when they met his. Your breath seemed to catch as well.
Your name fell from Beauâs lips, his voice breaking. Emily looked up at her dad and had to smile. She even made room for you when you came up on his other side. Beau still kept his daughter tucked against him, but he reached for you as well and brought you into his embrace.
He felt your body shaking with quiet, wracking sobs. His heart broke for it, but he soothed a hand over your knotted hair and down your back.
âShh, itâs okay now,â he whispered in your ear. His voice was choked with emotion. âIâve got you, darlinâ."
Never gonna let you go again, he thought.
You nodded, sniffling, but you kept your face buried against his chest.
Eventually, you lifted your head to meet his kind, if tearful eyes. He was a mess, and so were you. He was right though; you knew that it was all right now, as long as he was here.
You looked over at Emily, who was still hanging onto her father. You touched her shoulder.
âYou okay?â you asked through tears. She nodded back at you with a smile.
âGood,â Beau said. âLetâs get you two home.â
You realized then that you were clinging to him likeâŠlike he was yours.Â
âOh,â you uttered, releasing his shirt. âIâm sorry.âÂ
Beauâs eyes widened at the way you pulled away from him, unconsciously lowering your gaze. He frowned, and he pressed a gentle hand to your cheek, so youâd look at him again.Â
âDonât you do that,â he said, his voice still a bit unsteady.
Almost every cell in his body said to pull you back in. To sink his fingers in your hair, and to kiss you.
But he noticed Jenny, Cassie, Cormack, and even his daughter watching with some kind of smile on their faces. You stared up at him, teary eyed and waiting.
Beau cleared his throat.
He hesitated a bit too long, warring with himself all the while. So he just stroked your cheek and guided you, along with his daughter to the car.
You and Emily were going home.
AN: đ«Ł Lol please don't hate me for the little tease at the end there. But how did you like how all the action and drama of the kidnapping unfolded?
Don't think this is the finale though. We've still got some drama and fun things to come. (Also, I think it's funny how this next particular chapter is going to post on my birthday lol.)
Next Time:
âIâm the one who needs you to forgive me,â he said, gently squeezing your arm. âI promised myself I would keep you safe, that I wouldnât drag you into this mess. And I couldnât keep my end of the deal.â
âStop that,â you said. You grabbed the front of his shirt. âHow many times do I have to say itâs not your fault before you get it in your stubborn head?â
It came out a bit snappish, but the moment your eyes met his, you both seemed to realize where your passions had led you. Just inches away from one another.
âMaybe one more time,â Beau said, in a quieter, but no less heady voice. There was a hint of humor in his eyes. You couldnât help but smile back.
You released his shirt and instead, took his face in your hands.
â¶ïž Keep Reading: PART 8
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Arcane S2 Thoughts
I've had a week to digest this season and well, I guess I have the unpopular opinion of being very disappointed. After the initial flash of gorgeous animation and some ooo's and awe's.... I was left with a bitter aftertaste. I can rewatch S1 loads of time. I don't think I can watch S2 again.
I'm happy for the fans that loved it and got what they wanted or the shippers that got what they wanted. I'm happy for you. Do your thing.
Me? Not so much. Even as a Silco fan (and I admit to squeeing for any footage of him at first), I'm not pleased. Yeah, my young Silco is a nerd, man-bun hottie, but that's where it ended for me. His entire characterization was nothing like the character I fell head over heels for in S1.
Vander's Flashback: I honestly don't find Felicia's inclusion necessary at all. In fact, I think it waters down everything between Silco and Vander. Their knowing her and the kids creates more questions, plotholes, and problems than it supposedly solves.
Why is Vander only in those memories with the kids? It's before the fallout with Silco. Why don't the kids know or remember nice Silco? Why do they only fear him (obv that's from Vander and Benzo, yes?)?
Why doesn't Silco seem to know Powder at Vander's dead body? Why would he kill Felicia's kids? None of it makes any fucking sense if he cared about Felicia. He hates Vander so much, he hates the kids too because he adopted them?
How the hell does S2 Young Silco turn into S1 Silco? Riot really messed this one up. Vander's attempted murder didn't change his entire personality.
It was a rebellion battle. People were going to get hurt and killed. They had to know this. So, whether Silco accidentally killed Felicia (as some fans are debating) or she died, is so damn dumb for Vander to solely blame Silco. Takes the kids, becomes a pacifist FIRST and then decides to (shave and grow younger) kill his brother for the greater good. Doesn't make one lick of sense narratively.
The narrative, characterization and animation inconsistencies don't help from S1 either. The drowning scene doesn't fit the S2 explanation. They're too young. Vander had a beard and appears much older on the bridge. Hell, S2 Young!Silco looks older than S1 Young!Silco. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. If people want to kiss Riot's ass, fine, but there was too much that was straight up lazy writing.
Silco's death is just glossed over considering how important he is. Silco did what Vander couldn't. Even without Shimmer, the Underground was thriving. Cait's mother's death/burial/statue gets more screen time and Silco gets dumped in the river. No one seems to question his death or what happened? Yeah, ok.
I'll use this moment to complain about the excessive music video montages this season too. I watched S1 again and the writing and use of music worked in unison and enhanced scenes. S2 felt like scenes in between music videos and it was irritating.
There was so much screentime wasted that could have been good dialogue heavy scenes that S1 was great at. Instead, time wasted on poorly executed plotlines that needed way more time to flesh out (Mel, Ekko and Viktor) and we have slowmo music videos and MCU fight scenes. Hermie's guitar song and Mission Impossible jokster crap was laughable and not in a good way.
Riot tried to pack too much into one season, and it was a mess. This season felt like watching a Marvel movie. Cool action sequences with little to no substance. All the nuance and grit from last season were gone in favor of the 'good vs. bad' trope. All the political-societal issues in S1 were abandoned that were far more fascinating to explore.
Mel has superpowers now? It feels all out of place. Her, Ambessa, and the Black Rose plot have zero time to make it interesting and plausible. She was introduced as this master manipulator/politician and her sage persona feels so forced.
Jesus Demigod Viktor was too much. I was excited for the Machine Herald and the psychedelic Arcane magical multiverse took me out. Making him to be the big baddie and timeloop it around to Jayce felt like a big cop out. Viktor deserved better. Hell, Jayce deserved better.
So much was sacrificed to make the whole Arcane magic THE point of the series when it was one of the least interesting aspects of the show. Hextech for weapons and the continuing problems between Piltover and Zaun was RIPE for storytelling. It seems each act needed several episodes to cover.
Ekko sure as fuck deserved better than that half assed time warp with Hermie. The AU really bothered me. Everything felt wrong. EVERYTHING. Nothing was explained well at all. It felt like complete fan service at the expense of the characters. Before people rip me saying "well duh! It was an AU!". You don't assassinate characters and plot to have a happy ending that insults your viewers.
They turned Zaun (its own cool character) into the bargain basement of Piltover. How is it sunny and pretty? Really? Mirror tricks? Everyone just forgave Piltover after years of oppression?
You're telling me Vi's death saved humanity? Fuck that shit right now. Piltover just stopped because a kid died? Suddenly everything became better? What happened to Jayce? Viktor? Hell, Hermie after decades didn't give two shits about Zaun, so what changed with the Council? Where's Singed? I don't buy it.
I don't buy Jinx/Powder being super normal smart girl. I LOVE JInx, but I believe she had mental issues prior breaking into Jayce's apartment. I don't think Vi's death made that go away (as I don't believe Silco's death did either). As someone who battles with mental health, this is insulting to me as a viewer.
I hated AU Silco. There. I said it. He just forgave Vander? Really? Bullshit. The reason Vander tried to kill him is stupid. A simple letter changed Silco? That fluffy-haired softy is not Silco. I can't imagine that Silco being the one who fought a rebellion. He probably would not have become a mob boss peddling drugs but this AU softboi dad feels so wrong. I never would have stanned AU Silco. Not in a million years.
S1 Silco's traits didn't magically appear because Vander betrayed him. The young S1 Silco had to be similar in many ways to older S1 Silco. Drive, ambition, ruthlessness, willing to die for a cause. I don't see Felicia's death changing that. I certainly don't see Vi's death changing that.
If Vander needed to kill Silco to stop the violence, etc, it's because he saw Silco as a threat to him or society as a whole. S1 Vander is known as The Hound. So, he seems to be violent as well. He takes credit for building the Underground when Felicia credits both 'bozos' for it. So Vander being upset she died and blaming Silco to the point of murder is a slap in the face to fans' intelligence.
I do hate that by Vi's death, everything is magically better. I can't express how much I hate that. AU Powder was irritating and was nothing like my Jinx that I love. Again so much wasted time that could have been better spent on good character driven scenes that actually advance the plot.
Pointless characters. Introduce Isha (who I adored). Make her seem important to Jinx. Kill her and never mention her again. So what was the point of her inclusion this season? Just to make Jinx suicidal? I hated that also. Again WASTED SCREENTIME.
Oh, and Caitvi was a disgrace. I think shippers deserved better here, too. Caitlyn goes crazy dictator because of guilt over her mom. Granted, Caitvi only knew each other for a week-ish? Not a lot of time to make their relationship serious past an infatuation. Cait turns from all her good points last season to Ambessa's padawan.
Don't get me started on that side piece Maddie. Really? Cait you were that hard up? And that long awaited sex scene was a big eye roll. Vi goes to her sister, and shit goes to hell, and a few minutes later, she's fucking Cait in the same cell. Vi was reduced to shit this season.
I mean, these characters just got shafted in every way for a high speed train wreck ending that we've seen a million times in Disneyfied stories. Action sequences were more important than actual character development and plot.
You can't make me believe that one speech from Jayce 'seeing a possible future' suddenly got Zaun to work with and dress up as Piltover soldiers? Really?
I had high hopes for Sevika, and the girl got shit nothing to do except in two episodes. Her seat on the Council feels like a last-minute decision and not worthy enough to expand on.
What made S1 so great was the class divide between Zaun and Piltover and how it affected the characters. S2 decided to scrap that and go with the easy good vs evil trope instead. Even the parallels didn't have the same hit as last season.
I did like Jinx talking to her 'ghost' Silco in the jail cell. He was calming to her in contrast to Milo/Claggor except the implication that she should die (that's what I got out of that).
We didn't even get much from Singed. Yeah, he got his daughter back (in some form) but his story was so blah. We didn't get nearly enough of him and Warwick and what made Warwick.
I guessed a few years ago it was going to be Vander but I didn't like how it was handled.
Too many plotlines all rushed together without getting any decent screentime and explanations that don't confuse or insult viewers intelligence. OR you have to be a LOL fan/player to understand. I never played LOL before S1 and wasn't confused as to the main plot.
I loved all the characters in S1 and felt they were pretty much watered down or assassinated in S2 for an apocalyptical Demigod villain vs humanity battle done to death finale.
The Zaun/Piltover political-societal problems, parallels, corruption, science going wrong, pathway to hell paved with good intentions themes from S1 was so much better in every single aspect.
I'm still a fan of S1 and the characters and frankly, I'm going to ignore 95% of S2.
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imagine being neteyams twin and dying along with him.
includes: gn!reader. they/them pronouns. neteyams death..AGAIN! getting âshotâ. blood. death. grief. the afterlife. neteyamxreader (platonic!) i totally pulled this concept from my ass so if it doesnât make a lick of sense i am SO SORRY. ANGSTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTTT mwah love yâall.
in naâvi culture itâs unusual to carry twins. the naâvi body isnât really meant to carry two babies at one time. but somehow your mother did it. although the pregnancy was difficult, she powered through and gave birth to two babies. neteyam and (y/n). you had come out a little bit after neteyam, making him the oldest. watching the two newborns sleep cozily in their moms arms made jake well up with tears. his little family was starting.
another thing in naâvi culture which goes unsaid is when a twin dies. the other one dies as well. they feel and see eachothers pain too. one time when neteyam got cut, you also felt the pain of his cut, the gash leaving a scar on both of your bodies. in the same place.
the naâvi people donât understand this predicament. it just happened. the one thing they couldnât understand. while jake and neytiri were happy and felt blessed by this, they also worried.
if we lose one kid. we lose another.
your parents had informed you of this many times while growing up with your brother. sugar coating it seeing as though you two were still too young to understand the concept of death. all you knew was âif neteyam gets hurt. i get hurt tooâ vise versa.
you both did a relatively good job keeping eachother safe until the sky people arrived and that fateful day struck your family, tarnishing their hearts forever.
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
you felt a sharp pang in your chest, a feeling of dread and sluggishness consumed your body like the plague, brushing it off as something minor. but when you couldnât shake the feeling. something hurt but you didnât know what. you knew something was wrong.
â(y/n)! come quick itâs neteyam!â your youngest brother, loâak called to you frantically, he knew since neteyam was hit that you were as well. you stood up from your seat and immediately felt dizzy, feeling a substance trickle down your chest and down your back, sending chills down your spine. you were bleeding. there was a coin sized hole that wasnât there before. thatâs when it hit you.
neteyam had been shot.
neteyam was dying. and so were you.
panic sky rocketed through your body as you stumbled out to your family, your mother quickly scooping you and laying you next to your brother. your health declining rapidly as blood began to pool your mouth.
jake stared in horror. there was nothing he could do for his kids. he knew this would eventually happen. but he didnât think it would happen this soon. the sight of you red at the mouth with a wound, ironically matching your twin, made him cringe. this was unfair. he couldnât process one. now heâs being forced to process two upcoming losses just because it was the way of the naâvi people.
you leaned into your brother as everything was moving. so fast. just a few minutes ago you were making bracelets for everyone. now youâre on the rocks dying with your brother. you cursed eywa in your head, cursing how this was unfair to you and neteyam. you couldnât even give proper goodbyes first.
neteyam turned his head over to you before letting out a weak smile âim sorry..â. you opened your mouth to speak but was quickly silenced by the spew of blood that erupted from your throat, neteyam feeling the warm metallic substance cloud his throat.
âmom im scared..â you turned to your mom while you faintly heard neteyam whisper something to your father about wanting to go home. then..
there was nothing.
âââââââââââââââââââââââââââââ
â(y/n)!â you shot up in a panic. it was white. everywhere. when your sight adjusted you saw your older brother in front of you. âneteyam..where..â he quickly shushed you and brought you to a glowing figure, her warm smile filling your body up with the warmth of a mothers embrace.
it was eywa.
you and neteyam quickly bowed before she let out a small hum of approval. âyou both have strong hearts. one soul. but very strong and different heartsâ her voice was smooth like honey against your ears.
one soul? you always knew you and your brother were attached at the hip but not like this. âone soul?â you thought to yourself but the goddess in front of you was quick with her response. âyes. one soul. you both have one soul. soulfully connected. if one part of the soul leaves..â she looks over to neteyam âthen the other has to go along with it.â she looked over to you.
oh.
after the conversation, you and neteyam walked hand in hand in the afterlife, admiring what eywa has to offer. â(y/n) im sorry.â neteyam spoke , breaking the comfortable silence. âitâs okay..itâs not your fault. letâs just spend the rest of eternity happy okay?â neteyam giving a small nod before pulling you towards a river, pushing you in.
life isnât fair. you know this. but at least you have your brother.
how everyone reacted. (part 2 ish)
a.n // yâall probably hate me after this but OH WELL. i just wanna say thank you for all the love and support on my most recent stories. your comments and reblogs truly make my day 10x better. i plan on doing a lot more so thank you again - sae đ„čđ«¶đŸ
#avatar#avatar x reader#neteyam x reader#awotw#jake sully x reader#kiri x reader#loak x reader#neytiri x reader#sully family x reader
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Cabin in the woods (yan!slasher!Konig x fem!Reader x yan!slasher!Horangi) part 3
Little birdie got caught. Konig is simply too excited to let you go. Chapter 1 Chapter 2 AO3
TW for the chapter: Light blood and gore, dead bodies, mentions of drugs, spanking, kidnapping
â Those fucking bastards killed Karen! Donât you care?!Â
Shouting at your friends was never your forte, but you expected that it would come out at some point in your unwilling journey, You never knew it would because of the psycho killers on the loose, wanting nothing more but to make a nice set of decorations from your bones and eat your liver.Â
You try to scream some senses into Chadâs tough skull but, just like his name suggests, this is a useless endeavor and you would be far better off running for your life, abandoning your friends, and hoping that killers would be satisfied without your sacrifice. But, youâre too nice. But, you have a bleeding heart and a death wish â and you feel guilty over not feeling guilty that Karen is dead. This is a new, overwhelming feeling for you, the one that almost revamps your whole essence. There are changes occurring, and you would rather die than acknowledge those changes.Â
â Listen to me, goddamnit! Weâre all going to die!Â
You must be looking horrible â mouth covered in blood like you just ate a bunch of raw meat, smelling of dirt and fresh guts, hands shaking and your face resembling the horror mixed with anger â even Marty is surprised to see the resident mouse behave like this. God, even you are surprised to see just how horrified you look, screaming at them in the hope of saving at least someone.Â
Marty drops a hand over your shoulders, pulling you to the side. You try to resist, but his clanky figure is surprisingly grippy and strong â you are being pulled to the nearest tree branches, just out of the range of the group. You spend the previous few hours trying to find them and yell some senses into their heads â and the only thing that they advised is that you should stop drinking for today and that stealing pills from Martyâs stash isnât very nice even if he kinda doesnât care where his junk goes. Still, you are fucking trembling.Â
Marty pushes you to the tree, whispering in your ear â you feel his hot, deranged breath on the side of your face, making you wince. Even compared to the killerâs smell of sweat and blood, they still were nicer to be around than Stale-Beer-And-Cheap-Weed-Breath Marty.Â
â Hey. Heeeeey, doll, what was happening back there?Â
â Karen isâŠ
â Nah-nah-nah, this is where you should shut up, yeah? Karen isnât dead. I mean, Iâm glad you think she is, it means my prank is fucking awesome.Â
Prank? Her fucking head was chopped off and then tossed over to the nearest creek when the shorter killer decided that he wants you to perform a blowjob on his knife, making sure that you are licking all the blood away. You donât think that there are ways to fake this â and if there are, then your friends and their hired goons are no better than actual killer psychos anyway and youâd still want out.Â
â I saw her!Â
â Sure you did, hon. Listen, Iâm really glad you were the first to notice and everything, but keep it down for now, yeah? I have this sick mask and I was actually planning to prank the group later at night, but if you found it firstâŠ
â Prank?! There are two actual killers on the loose, this is the worst time to do pranks! â God, youâre annoying. This is why I fucking asked Jenny not to invite you. There are no killers, alright? Karen agreed to partake in the prank, so she is hiding somewhere in the forest until Iâd pull out that sick knife and fucking scare everyone shitless. You were probably hallucinating from booze.Â
â I saw her severed head!
â Sure you did. Listen â you can help me, yeah? Just rile everyone up a little, then you will come back and say thatâŠhmmmmâŠthat Marty was taken! Everyone panicking, screaming, crying, and then I show up with this big-ass knife andâŠ
You never heard the last of his amazing, perfect, simply brilliant idea â because before he could finish it, his head was impaled withâŠoh, no. No-no-no, you canât do this anymore, not so soon after Karen is dead, not when you are still shaking and can barely think straight not when you are far away from others because Marty fucking led you to another secured place just to get his stupid head impaled with a fucking crossbow bolt â something that you only saw in video games or historical dramas.Â
This was completely silent â the quiet music of the bolt flying through the air, a small grunt that escaped Martyâs lips before he fell to the ground beneath your feet. You didnât even manage to see from what direction this thing came from, too disoriented to observe the world around you properly. You feel the adrenaline running up again, probably breaking the record for you in the whole year â you jump from the body on the ground, tears dwelling in your eyes. You canât do it, you canât do it, you wonât do it, you were never a fighter, the freeze-fight-flight instinct always coming up to curling down in a small ball and sucking on your thumb.Â
Some people are simply not built for survival â this is a natural order, something that Darwin was talking about. Soft, weak humans are meant to die, meant to be the food for stronger predators, for monsters dwelling in the shadows. Some creatures are never meant to exist â fleshy cute creatures, the ones that melt at the slightest touch, someone like you â when your first answer to a threat is to roll on your back and show your belly to a mountain lion, you just knew that evolution never meant for you to live past the crib. And yet, civilisation allowed you to survive. To thrive even, before you were put in this fucking forest.Â
You run before everything else can kick in â at least some of your instincts are working properly, adrenaline running through your veins as you are leaving Marty behind, not even bothering to check if he is still breathing or not. The man was never thinking with his head â not the upper one anyway â but you doubt that he would survive a bolt shot perfectly between his eyes, separating his brain in two perfect halves. Like a fucking apple.Â
You ranÂ
 âââ â âââ â  ââ   â  and you ran âââ â âââ â âââ â âââ â âââ â âââ âââ âââ âââ â âââ â â âââ â âââ â âââ â â âââ â â   and you ran some more
And you ran right into his chest.Â
Wall of muscles, no less â you arenât even sure if this is a humanâs body, too sturdy and hard and perfect to belong to something less of a Roman statue. You feel tears running down your face, panic not even bothering to settle in â you know you would be dead in the next few moments, brain tragically easy saying goodbye to being intact. A pathetic sob escapes your throat as you are caught for the second time in this night â lady luck might be smiling upon you the first time, but you doubt you can be her favorite for long.Â
â I thought the rule of escaping was to run away from danger.Â
This is the tall killer â low voice, secured by the mask, making it almost unrecognizable. You shake as a big, glowed hand goes on your back, laying there heavily. Even more pathetic sounds are produced from your lips, and you are almost ready to beg him for a quick, painless death â his hand is big enough to cover your head and you donât want to think of the implications that he might crush your skull with just his fingers.Â
König listens to your sobs, doing nothing but keeping a firm hand on your back, securing you in place. You sob and whine and tremble in his hold â and he was never more hard in his life. What an adorable, pathetic little creature you are. Helpless in his hold â even squirrels can fight, scratching and biting. You were sobbing in his hold like the perfect kleine prey you are, and he could almost pretend this was a hug.Â
â Tshhh, Hase, donât cry. I wonât be able to let you go if youâd proceed with those sweet noises, ja?Â
His revelation only makes you squirm more. You finally try to get out of his bear-like hug â only to realize that all of your little movements and struggles fit perfectly with the enormous, pulsating bulge in his pants that can probably be considered a murder weapon on its own and shouldnât be concealed since this is an obvious threat toâŠah, on second thought, running around from a serial killer who has his monstrous dick hanging out would be worse. Much, much worse.Â
â Let me go!Â
You squirm one of your hands, punching his chest. Feels like punching a marble statue â the only thing you are hurting is your own hands. You try to resolve to a different form, jerking up your knee to land a blow on his crotch.Â
He fucking moans.Â
â Never knew you were such a fighter, Schatz. But I warned you, arenât I?Â
You donât understand what he is talking about before he suddenly lifts you in his hands, dropping you on his shoulder like a bag of potatoes. You are crying, trying to get away, [unching him with your legs and your hands, all the adrenaline in your veins working solely for the purpose of inflicting as much pain on this enormous figure as possible.Â
You tug on this weird hood he is wearing â if you are going to die, at least you would die exhausting all possible options, not feeling like you gave up without a fight. This is still a journey of self-respect and deep insight searches for the mysteriously hidden backbone of your body â maybe, yoga classes would be more effective and less dangerous but, unfortunately, youâre not a rich white housewife in her thirties, so not like you have money for a guru who would spend hours trying to convince your ovaries to stop dying on the inside.Â
â Let!Â
You punch him on the back, a multitude of well-served punches right into his back. He laughs, spreading his shoulders, cocking his chest forward like you were giving him a massage. With a groan, you made a very deliberate punch right in the middle of his back â and he moans from satisfaction, probably releasing some pent-up tension that he got from killing grandmas and destroying hotels.Â
â Me!Â
You tried to kick him in the chest, your legs working overtime as you cosplayed a rabid rabbit â only for him to laugh even more, his arm securing you holstered across his shoulder like your punches meant nothing. They probably didnât â he is literally still holding a fucking crossbow in his other hand, managing to secure it on his side while moving towardsâŠyou only assume it to be a murder cabin because of course those freaks would have a murder cabin, why the hell not â probably with some cool classy furniture made out of bones.Â
â Go! You finally manage to secure hold on the edge of his hood, yanking it upwards in hopes of actually revealing who the fuck is he â a dirty businessman who doesnât like those damn kids and their dog to ruin his plans for burning down the forest to create a shopping mall? A nice old man who showed you the road when you were lost, but he is actually on a spree to get revenge on all young people for killing his pet chicken in 1997? One of those creepy guys at the corner store who was weirdly obsessive over you, talked like a serial killer, and was constantly and also came in pair with the guy whose height and manner perfectly resembled a pair of killers that are after you now?Â
Probably the grandpa.Â
You yank the mask up andâŠ
Ah.Â
Of course, he is wearing a freaking balaclava. The only thing that you managed to see were his eyes â blue, icy, pretty, filled with anger as he pulled the hood down, concealing his features again, without you even managing to take a closer look. You gulp loudly, preparing to die.Â
He smacks your ass with a power that would be enough to break a bone â your only saving grace is that the flesh of your butt provided some cushion, instead leaving a nasty bruise and inability to sit for at least a few days. That is if you would even survive long enough to have problems sitting on your backside. You wonât have such problems if youâre dead, right?Â
â Quiet, Schatz. I already breaking the rule for taking you too early.Â
â BrâŠbreaking a rule? Do you have a freaking hunting pact?Â
â I promised Tiger that weâd let you roam around a little. Make things interesting.Â
Ah, yes, because letting you go the first time was such a brilliant idea on their behalf. The only reasons you didnât go straight to the police is because A) You donât speak rural Austrian German, B) Your phone canât connect to anything, and C) You donât even know in what part of the forest you are. Also because youâre scared that the police are going to turn out treacherous people, just like in horror movies, and that it would fucking destroy your trust.Â
â I can roam around. I can roam around just fucking perfect, assâŠ
Another loud smack on your ass makes you feel like a misbehaving kitten. He grips your ass through your jeans and you whimper a little bit, starting to cry again as his hand goes straight for the bottom, gripping your cunt through the tough layer of denim. You thank every god you know for making you wear ugly, but protective and thick jeans. Every time his hand goes to cup your most intimate parts, the fabric of your jeans protects it â you donât even feel too violated when he pushes his fingers even more, desperately trying to get a reaction out of you.Â
â Language, Hase. Donât make me discipline you, ja? â Fuck you! â Very gut then. Thatâs what you will do very soon.
Oh, but the rough material grinding over your delicate, thin panties and the sensitivity of your cunt really makes you feelâŠsomething. You wonât want to admit it, he smells like blood and sweat(still better than Marty, but you shut down that thought before it was born because fuck the new abortion laws), and he spanks your ass only to grope your pussy right after â and he also has masterful fingers that are working at the hem of your jeans, making the fabric press even more against the sensitive skin andâŠ
You try to think of something â anything.Â
Dead bodies, dead bodies, a lot of dead bodies, and there are some dead puppies too and everything is gross and smelly andâŠah, itâs not working.Â
König touches your lower parts with a wide grin under his hood â youâre fucking perfect, a nice addition to their house. You bite when he needs a little fight and you shut up when he touches you â perfect birdie, adorable birdie, Horangi will probably be bitching about spoiling the fun since youâd be stuck with them without a proper chase like he wanted, but the tiger would come around once heâd emptied himself on your warm body just once.Â
You squirm under his touch, moan and cry and tremble and he canât stop imagining you in millions of different positions. Stuck in the basement of their house, on your knees like a good girl you are, maybe with some branding or a collar â itâs more of a Horangiâs thing, even though König hopes he wonât have to break you too much until youâd call him daddy â pushing you to their shared bed, making sure that youâre nice and stuck in some open positions, allowing them to take you without much repercussions.Â
â Let me go.Â
â Nein.Â
â Please?Â
â I like your begging, Spatz.Â
â It means youâd let me go?Â
â Nein. You will tell your little friends, and then you will run to the police, ruining our fun. You are not going anywhere.Â
â But, umâŠyour culprit will be mad, no?Â
As cunning as you can, youâre trying to seal the seeds of destruction among them. Youâre trying your damn best not to act too charming or too fake, just so he wonât fall in love with you for real and would try murder-suicide you, but also with enough charisma checks so youâd actually convince him.Â
But, itâs not really working â maybe, you arenât as good at spreading havoc as you thought you were.Â
â Heâd live. We would get to hold you in your house, little one. Itâs enough to make him understand my reasons.Â
Itâs definitely enough to make you want to puke. He is fast, not even bothering to check on the body of your friend as he goes past it â he just marks it with something that resembles a piece of torn fabric and pushes some leaves and sticks on the body, probably signalling to his friend to come and get rid of the body â and then he changed your position a little bit, securing a hand on your ass he goes deeper into the forest.Â
Youâre trying to remember the location, maybe counting the trees and every bush that seems like a good mark â but you, a city girl raised on a cocktail of Google Maps and a constant internet connection, have already grown tired of trying to remember everything. Every tree is the fucking same, every turn feels like the one before and, at some point, you were sure that he is actually going in circles to make you understand the location even less. Your blurry vision obstructs the goal even more â you cried so much, it feels like your very eyes gave out. With a sigh of defeat, you metaphorically roll over to your back and present your belly to the predators.Â
After a hike that felt like hours, but was probably like 10 minutes long â this guy has long legs and the determination of a dog dragging a really cool stick home and, before you know it, youâre standing in front of aâŠhouse. Nice house. Expensive house, a big house, something less of a mansion, but more of a shed that you thought he was going to live in because he is literally a serial killer.Â
Even serial killers made good property investments in the respective years â and you were too busy with useless stuff, like learning how to walk or trying not to choke yourself on a piece of carrot.Â
â Welcome home, Schatz.Â
He gently lets you down from his shoulder, allowing you to take a closer look at your surroundings. Normal living room â literally nothing weird. Maybe a bit too much hunting trophies, maybe a lot of guns lying around, some overly manly decorations, and very questionable art pieces but if youâd see that house advertised on the property website, you wouldnât even consider it too weird. You were expectingâŠsomething. Blood on the walls, furniture made out of human flesh and skin, a devilish feast for imps and every like themâŠ
You saw nothing as König punched the back of your head, putting you to sleep.Â
You fucking hate forest trips.Â
#cod#call of duty#cod x reader#cod x you#konig x reader#yandere konig#konig mw2#reader insert#yandere cod#yandere x reader#horangi x you#horangi x reader#horangi x könig#kim horangi hong jin#horangi#modern warfare 2#mw2#yandere imagines#yandere#male yandere#slashers#horror
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Because I love you
(Amber Freeman x fem! reader)
Summary: After a steamy night, you find out that you girlfriend, Amber, is a psychotic masked killer... what will you do about that...? Warnings: (+18), smut, oral (r receiving), fingering (r receiving), death of multiple characters (some loved ones), blood a/n: it's the first time I try writing smut so it might be really bad TvT, the story doesn't really follow the outline of the movie bc I got confused :)) (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)
You shouldn't be doing this. You really shouldn't. Your friend just got stabbed 6 times by a masked killer.. You should be by her side at the hospital.
But her cold hands on your bare skin were driving you crazy. Her hot lips on yours made you crave for more. You knew it was wrong. But god it felt so right.
Her hands were already under your shirt, making their way up to your torso, brushing your breasts with the tip of her fingers while her lips travelled down to your neck, sucking dark purple marks on it.
"Amber..." you whispered
"Hmm?"
"T-this is wrong... we shouldn't-"
Your breath hitched as you felt one of her hands slip past the waistband of your shorts and underwear.
"But you like it, right baby? Or maybe you me want to stop..?"
Her hot breath on your collarbone made you shiver.
"N-no please.. don't stop.."
You could feel her smile against you skin as she left more marks on you, before pulling away long enough to take your shirt and bra off.
When she looked back at you with greedy eyes, you couldn't help but feel more aroused.
"God Y/n.. you're so pretty.."
She didn't waste anymore time and went back to what she was doing: sliding your last piece of clothing down your legs and throwing it on the floor.
She then went back up to capture your lips in a feverish kiss, her hands roaming your body, before going down again, kissing your neck, your shoulder, your collarbone, every inch of skin she could reach.
She left a trail of hickeys on your smooth skin, between your breasts, on your stomach, all the way down to where you needed her the most.
You were embarrassingly wet, which made you want to close your legs. Amber prevented you from doing so by gripping your tights firmly.
"C'mon baby.. if you keep moving like that how am I supposed to please you, hm?"
She placed herself between your legs, only inches away from your wetness. She kissed your inner tight, leaving one more love mark, before licking a long strip up to your clit.
You threw your head back when she started to eat you out, letting moans slipping out your parted lips, whispering her name every now and then.
Your right hand gripped her hair to keep her in place.
"Amber I'm gonna-"
"I know baby, cum for me"
She slipped two fingers inside of you, and fingerfucked you until you reached your climax, sucking slightly on your clit.
Her fingers slipped out of you cunt, but she didn't stop eating you out, cleaning you up, before licking you of her fingers.
You watched her as she did so, blushing at the look she was giving you, before she bent down to kiss you again, softly, lovingly.
"My pretty girl... you did so good for me..." she whispered against your lips
You hummed slightly, hands slipping under her shirt, but to your surprise, she pulled away.
"Not tonight baby"
"But- I want to make you feel good too..."
"Next time, right now I just want to take a bath with you... and cuddle all night. I'll be right back"
She kissed you once more before pulling away and going to the bathroom. You could hear the water running, and waited patiently for your girlfriend.
You were putting on one of her oversized shirt to keep you warm when you saw something shiny under her bed, in the mirror's reflection. Curious, you bent down to grab it.
It was a dark cape or something, in which you found...
Your eyes widened suddenly as you took a ghostface mask out of the black fabric, along with a bloody knife.
Your heart started beating faster at the thought of Amber - your Amber - stabbing Tara to the point she almost killed her. You didn't think she was capable of something this... fucked up.
Thinking the hands that touched you not even five minutes before were the same that nearly killed your friend almost made you sick.
Did she planned on killing you too...? No... she wouldn't do that... right...?
Hearing footsteps coming form the bathroom, you quickly put all that stuff back under the bed.
"The bath is ready, you coming?"
She looked at you, sitting on the floor.
"You okay...?"
She stepped closer to you, a worried look on her face.
"Y-yeah.. I just.. I was thinking about Tara a-and what happened... I.. I don't feel so good.."
You flinched slightly when she held you close, her arms around your waist, rubbing your back gently.
"It's okay baby, you're safe with me..."
Was it bad that you really felt safe in her arms? In the arms of a killer? You were torn between that sick feeling and your love for her.
You pushed her away softly.
"I... I know... I just... I think I need to be alone tonight... to... to think about all of that... it's not against you my love... I swear I-"
"... I understand... but I'm here if you need company or anything else... you know that right..?"
She was genuinely worried. You could see it in her eyes.
"I know... it's just for tonight.. I promise"
She placed a chaste kiss on your lips, before letting you dress up properly.
<><><><> ⥠<><><><>
The next day, you woke up at the sound of your phone buzzing next to you. It was the sheriff calling you.
"Shit.." you mumbled before taking the call "Hello sheriff?"
"Y/n.. there's been another murder last night.. I'm sorry but I'm gonna need you to come to the police station.."
"Yes sure, I- I'm coming"
"Oh and if you could take Amber with you... she's not answering my calls..."
"U-uh yes she's... having a shower.."
You quickly ended the call, and texted your girlfriend to meet you at a café not far away from the police station so you could arrive together.
Who did she killed this time...? you thought
When she arrived, she gave you a confused look on why you insisted to meet here.
"You didn't receive Sheriff Judy's calls? She wants us to go to the police station"
"But why?"
You didn't say anything and started to walk to the station. You know why...
Once you arrived at the station, Sheriff Judy invited you into a interrogation room.
"I'm sorry but I have to ask you girls, where were you last night?"
"At Amber's" you replied, too quickly
"All night? Did one of you left at one point or..?"
"Why? Are we like.. suspects?" Amber asked
"No but- witnesses saw your group having a quite violent argument with the victim so we have to ask you..."
"Oh... I see.."
"We were together all night long, Sheriff" you said, causing Amber to look at you, trying to hide her surprise
"And... what were you doing?"
"We uh.."
Your cheeks grew red in embarrassment.
"We had sex" Amber said
"And then we took a bath together before going to sleep" you finished
"Do you have any evidences of what you say?"
You sighed and showed her some of the hickeys on the top half of your body.
"These are not bruises, in case you were wondering"
She had a little smile, visibly relieved. She should have believed you, because minutes after you were both out of the station, holding hands.
"You know we weren't together all night long, right..? And we'll get in trouble if they know we lied.." Amber said after a little while
"I know. But I also know that you were stabbing someone to death last night."
She stopped walking, looking at you with wide eyes.
"What...? Baby that's not funny! I would never-"
"Amber." you turned to face her "I found your Ghostface costume under you bed. And the knife you used to... to stab Tara.."
"... why did you lie to the police then..?"
"Because I love you. And I don't want to loose you"
"I-"
"Let's talk about this when we get home, it's not safe here.."
She squeezed your hand slightly before kissing you, whispering a little "I love you so much" against your lips.
Once you were back at her house, she told you everything; how she met Richie, how they planned everything to frame Sam for the murders, how they found out she was Billy Loomis' daughter...
That was a lot to take.
"So... you almost killed Tara because Stab 8 is shit...? And you want to frame Sam for every murder?"
That was not a motive, you knew it. You should really tell the police. But you couldn't. The simple thought of living without her broke your heart.
"I can't say I understand, because I don't... but..." you sighed "Is it bad that I love you so much I want to help you..?"
"No no no no no, you're not putting yourself in danger! I really appreciate you wanting to help me but if something happens to you I will never forgive myself.."
"But I could- I could hack security cameras and other things, provide alibis for you... please I-I can't let you take all the risks..."
"Baby..." she cupped your cheeks "you're not going to give up are you..?"
"No"
She placed a soft kiss on your lips.
"Just- don't put yourself in danger for me, okay?"
You were interrupted by your phone buzzing in you pocket. You looked at your screen.
"It's Sam. She wants us to come at Mindy's"
<><><><> ⥠<><><><>
"No, we're not doing this Y/n"
"I don't want to do it either, but we have to. I know she's suspecting me. I saw it in the way she looked at me."
"We'll find something else. I refuse to hurt you baby"
You sighed for maybe the 27th time this day.
"I'll be fine, just- avoid any useful organs. And if you don't want to do it, I'll just ask Richie"
"... Fine. But if it goes wrong I swear I-"
"Everything's gonna be alright, don't worry"
You took her hand in your, giving her a reassuring smile. The plan was simple;
Chad asked you to help him find a gift for Liv. You took the opportunity he gave you to plan your own attack. Ghostface would appear out of nowhere, stab you, then hopefully Chad would do something to help you.
As simple as it was, it did not went as planned.
Everything started as you expected, Amber appeared suddenly, chased you into an empty old shop, stabbed you 3 times in "safe areas", and Chad pushed her off you.
It was supposed to end here. He was supposed to help you escape right after that. But he didn't. He checked on you, swore under his breath at the amount of blood you were losing, and looked at Ghostface, who was lying on the ground.
"Hold on, I won't be long I promise" he told you before walking toward the killer
They fought, and to your horror, Chad was winning. He managed to throw the knife away, and was now on top of Ghostface, keeping him on the floor.
You got up painfully, your wounds burning at every move you made. You took the knife and walked toward them, clenching your teeth.
"Yes Y/n! Stab him! Kill this motherfucker!" Chad told you
You were now right next to them, and raised the knife.
You couldn't see his face, but there was no doubt he was shocked when he felt the knife sinking into his back. Amber managed to get out of his grip, as it got weaker.
Chad turned around, to see if it was you or another Ghostface that was attacking him.
You didn't even look at him, and stabbed him again. And again. And again. Until he wasn't moving anymore.
The knife slid out of your hand, before Amber took it as she heard footsteps coming form the right. She turned her voice changer off.
"I'm sorry baby..." she whispered
As someone entered the shop, she stabbed you once more, to be convincing, before running away.
You collapsed next to Chad, in a pool of both his blood and yours, before everything turned black.
<><><><> ⥠<><><><>
When you woke up at the hospital, you saw a worried Amber next to you, holding your hand, and your friends entering the room. Even Tara was here, in a wheelchair.
"How do you feel..?" she asked
"Not too bad... thanks to the pain killers I guess..."
Your lips curled into a weak smile, which disappeared quickly.
"What about Chad...? Is he alright...?"
Everyone looked down, not saying a word. Tears came to your eyes, blurring your vision. He was dead. You killed him.
Amber rubbed your arm in an attempt to confort you as you whipped your tears away.
"Maybe we should let her alone.."
"Yeah..."
Everyone got up to give you some space. You grabbed your girlfriend's hand before she could leave too.
"You want me to stay..?"
You nodded slowly. She sat beside you on the bed and wrapped her arms around you, as you snuggled up to her. You cried in her arms a little while, until your eyes were all puffy and red.
"It's my fault. I killed him I- shit..." your eyes hurt
"It's okay baby, you didn't mean to kill him, it was an accident"
"No I- I wanted to. I wanted to kill him. All I could think about was.. kill him kill him kill him. Or he will kill her. And it's not even the worst part... I don't feel anything"
"What do you mean?"
"I don't feel bad. I don't care that I killed him."
"Why were you crying then..?"
"I feel bad for not feeling anything... I'm a monster aren't I..?"
"Don't say that! If you didn't-" someone passed next to your room "If you didn't killed him he would've killed me, you said it yourself.. You're everything but a monster.."
"You only say that because I'm your girlfriend.."
"No baby, it's the truth.. You trust me right?"
"... yes..."
"Look at me and tell me you're not a monster"
"..."
"Baby..."
You looked at her.
"I'm not a monster.."
"That's right baby, you're my pretty girl, the nicest and kindest and most beautiful person in the world"
A little smile made its way up to your face, as you felt your face heat up. She smiled back at you before brushing her nose against yours.
A knock at your door made you both look up. It was Richie.
"I uh wanted to know how we would proceed for what's next"
<><><><> ⥠<><><><>
For the next part of the plan, you could only help from Amber's house, where you lived since you got out of the hospital. You hacked the security system Wes and Judy's house, and then the hospital's.
You felt kinda bad for Tara, she was a good friend and didn't deserved leaving in fear. She should've had a quick death without any pain.
When Amber got back from the hospital, she was euphoric. She didn't kill Tara, but Dewey Riley. You watched her with a little smile as she was jumping everywhere.
When she finally calmed down, you got up and helped her preparing the party, repeating what you had to do.
Once again, simple. And once again, it didn't go as planned.
Like before, it started well; Tara, Sam and Richie arrived at the party looking for Tara's inhaler, Amber took Tara into her room, Richie went "in the basement", and you stayed with Sam.
Richie attacked Mindy, Sam defended her while you try to stop the girl from bleeding too much. Amber and Tara came back, followed by Richie seconds later, and finally Liv entered the room.
"Fuck you Amber. I'm not the fucking killer!"
"I know"
Your girlfriend took Dewey's gun she was hiding behind her back and shot Liv in the head, before turning toward Sam.
"Welcome to act 3"
She tried to shoot her, but Tara pushed her arm, so she missed. You ran away, trying not to blow up your cover, taking a knife in the kitchen.
You then proceed to find Amber, to see what she did with that little fail. You rushed in her room, only to find her taping Tara's mouth.
"You're here" you said
Tara looked at you with pleading eyes, switching between you and the knife you were holding. You were about to break the poor girl's heart.
"Baby, why the knife?"
"To uh protect myself?"
She took a step closer to you, grabbing your hips and pulling you flush against her.
"Not from me right?"
"No, not from you my love"
You kissed her with a smile, wrapping your arms around her neck.
"I need to go, see you in a minute baby" she whispered in your ear
She exited the room to set the next part of the plan. You turned your attention to Tara, whose eyes where teary and filled with tears.
"Oh Tara... don't cry sweetheart..." you whipped the tears that rolled down her cheeks "It won't hurt I promise.. we'll end this quickly"
With that, you closed the closet's door and got downstairs, where you met a woman you believed was Sidney Prescott entering the house.
"Put your hands up!"
You did as she told, acting scared.
"I- I didn't do anything please.."
"Why do have a knife?"
"To defend myself! I- there's a fucking killer in this house I don't want to die!"
Suddenly, her phone rung. She picked up. It seemed to be one of the Ghostface. She showed you the garden, mouthing "Gale" silently.
She made you move out of the way as she went upstairs, still on the phone with one of the killers, while you went outside to find Gale Weathers lying in the grass.
"Are you alive?" you asked
"No I'm dead. Of course I'm alive"
Even hurt she was sarcastic, she seemed to be okay.
"Sorry, that was a dumb question, but "are you okay" was too so I didn't know what to say"
You helped her standing up, taking the gun she had next to her and placing it between your belt and your jean, before you heard a loud noise coming from inside.
She tried to walk toward the house, but was forced to stop when you stabbed her.
"I'm sorry, but I can't let you go in there yet. But don't worry you'll see your friend before the end"
You waited until Amber got out of the house to tell you you could bring Gale in, which you did. Then, Amber and Richie made their speech about their plan and everything, before your girlfriend went upstairs to find Tara.
"She's not there!" you heard her yell
You looked at Richie.
"What do you mean she's not there?" he replied, before Sam throw herself at him, pushing him on the floor
He chased her as she escaped the room. You were alone with the two remaining originals.
"Fuck" you whispered
You clearly couldn't handle both on your own, so when they started moving at the same time, you rushed to Sidney, as you considered she was a bigger threat.
You stabbed her in the stomach, not far away from her other wound. She kicked you as a payback, re opening one of your own wounds, before you felt a sharp pain in your back as a blade sunk into your skin.
You were trapped between the two, incapable of moving even the slightest.
"I think that's mine" Gale said, taking the gun out of your belt
Shit shit shit! you thought.
Two gunshot were heard, and you felt a sharp pain in your leg. You tried your best to get the fuck away from the women, and as you did so, you heard a familiar voice
"No one touches my girlfriend you bitch."
The next five minutes were a little blurry for you because of the blood you were losing. When you regained plain consciousness, Sidney was hitting Amber with a hand sanitizer bottle.
"Fucking hand sanitizer?!" you heard your girlfriend say
You got up quietly and sneaked behind the women, before stabbing Sidney in the neck, under Gale's horrified look. Amber took this opportunity to take the woman's gun and shot her in the head, like she did for Liv.
Richie suddenly burst into the room, covered in blood.
"I got Sam, but I don't know where Tara is!"
"Right here dickhead."
That was Tara, raising a gun and shooting Richie in the chest. He shot her too, in the head. A painless death, like you promised. You heart still ached a little at the thought of your friend.
You sighed in relief. Everything was over. Everyone was dead. You could finally call the police and an ambulance.
But to your surprise, Richie turned over and pointed his gun right at you, ready to shoot. Fortunately, Amber saw him too, and shot him before he could hurt you.
You let yourself sink onto the floor.
"Is it over...? Or someone else will try to kill us..?"
"I think it's over.."
She sat next to you.
"Now we just have to call 911 and tell the police Sam went nuts and she and Richie tried to kill everyone.."
She soon did as she said, but quickly got back on the floor with you. You were both bleeding a lot, especially you, but your life wasn't in danger.
She took your hand in hers, rubbing little circles on it with her thumb.
"We made it.." her lips turned into a weak smile "I love you so much baby.."
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Probably a lukewarm take, but other than the (lack of an) ending, the Laura and Ryan scenes are some of the worst written and conceived parts of The Quarry.
And this is completely separate from whether Ryan is interested in Dylan (he is, but that's another post and not important to this rant) or Kaitlyn; even if Ryan had no other potential relationships in the game, even if Laura wasn't practically married to Max, wearing his ring around her neck the entire time they're talking, it still would feel flat to me because nothing about it is earned.
Laura is on a killing spree with the single-minded goal of saving Max. She genuinely believes the only way to do that is to kill Chris Hackett. Even if you've made her argue with Max to the extent that they can, they're still a strong unit when she goes out to solve this werewolf thing once and for all. Even if you don't believe in love think their relationship would survive all this trauma, she deeply believes she owes it to him to rescue him, that is her entire guiding ethos during the game.
Ryan is going with her to try to keep that from happening because Chris has been his friend and mentor for years. We know Ryan has an absent mother, unmentioned father, and a potentially turbulent family life, and he's been coming to HQSC for so long that it feels like home to him, that Chris and his kids feel like family. Laura has already killed Kaylee. Even if Ryan completely bought into the werewolf thing by now, that would be a tough pill for him to swallow, given his reaction to her death.
Then, they fall in the titular Quarry and suddenly have the option to express a completely unearned sort of camaraderie with each other. Why is Laura asking Ryan about his love life in the first place? The question about him being single makes sense as a dig, but it doesn't make any sense for her to ask about him being a 'brooding and mysterious loner' because... she hasn't actually seen him do anything brooding or mysterious? How did she even get that impression? If Laura's got some kind of borderline psychic intuition then this is really the worst possible use of that ability--she should have foreseen her need to go to that motel and stay the fuck out of locked storm shelters instead.
It doesn't make a lick of sense for her to say that Kaitlyn looks up to him either. She hasn't seen that. Hell, we as players haven't even seen that! Kaitlyn seems generally tolerant of but unimpressed by Ryan. She has the option to be impatient with him multiple times and even get the chyron that she's âlosing respectâ for him if he suggests she take the gun and go after Nick instead. This seems like an objectively good idea, since she's a much better shot than Ryan, a fact which the game keeps telling us despite refusing to give her a gun until the last possible second, though maybe the concern is that she'd have to drag Nick back to the campfire herself. (Honestly, I think Kaitlyn could do it, I think she's like a mighty ant who can lift many times her own weight, but that's not what this post is about.)
Ryan, for his part, shouldn't really be willing to talk about any of this with Laura either. He canonically doesn't even want to talk to his coworkers about his animation school decision (in the office scene with Dylan and at the campfire with Emma if you choose truth like a lunatic) and he's known them for at least two months, if not for years attending the same camp. But he met Laura a few hours ago and is suddenly willing to spill his guts about who he does or doesn't have a crush on and who does/doesn't have 'the hots' for him, despite the only experience they have together being her leaving his friend of several years dead facedown in a pool and expressing a strong desire to kill his father figure? I simply do not buy it.
I'm not sure if this was supposed to go along with the relationship system that they scrapped or what (there's not a single shred of Ryan and Laura stuff in the datamine that I've been able to find), but all it really serves to do is muddy the waters by trying to force some level of intimacy on Ryan and Laura before the big confrontation at the Hackett House. But that confrontation itself should have been the thing that forged that intimacy between them and allowed them to go on to fight Silas together.
Overall, I think it's a major sign that the back third of the game got a very rushed and, frankly, bad chop job (which we know is true) and that they struggled to tie the resulting loose threads off in a way that made any kind of narrative sense. It's a shame, because the writing in The Quarry is actually way better than most people give it credit for, it just wasn't allowed to pay off in a lot of ways that clearly were intended.
#the quarry#bunny rants#bunny rants about the quarry#I can see that Laura is an objectively good character but this makes me not fond of her#In the same way it seems to make a lot of people not fond of Ryan but I could never not be fond of Ryan#Laura & Ryan#ryan erzahler#laura kearney#imagine if the quarry was an actually finished game#sigh
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cw : y/n is kinda freaky in this idk (I snorted), guess who's our roommate important, fat shaming a cat, huge cat alert, mega pussy(cat), jeno big schlong core, desperate jeno (but only for a second), just a simple blowjob and his cum tastes like WHAT?!
side note: I took long asl writing this because I'm so used to writing for wayv like the 2 day gap between the haechan fic and hendery fic compared to the 13 day gap between this fic and the hendery fic makes me SICK.
extra note: I've never written for jeno before either.
apart of the nct corny plots series!
why were you so excited for a fuckass plumber?
you had a bigger problem anyway. under your sink, it smelt like fucking mold and water.
man fuck this.
your roommate, jungwoo was barely home.. you asked him if he knew anything about pipes and he only sent a dog emoji.
there was a familiar brushing in between your feet, you looked down at your fatass white cat, nella rubbing against your ankles. jungwoo thought that it'll be funny to make her rhyme with nutella because her old owner said that supposedly.. she ate jars of it.
picking her up, you think you tore your acl but once you met eyes with her; you felt kinda bad. isn't that basically neglecting..? but whatever, she's fine now.
nella's head nudged against your flat hand against the counter, you obligated unconsciously to petting her whilst spacing out on a random hummingbird perched on a fence.
ânella, do you think I'm weird?â you asked the unaware feline, she only licked your palm with a sequence of purrs. that was probably a yes. you sighed and fixed the navy blue edge of your short nightgown, there was then a knock at your door.
it's must've been him before nella jumped her big ass down and skedaddled to the basement. âwho is it?â you called whilst heading towards the door, trying to identify the warpy figure through the translucent glass. âuhm, I'm here to fix your pipesâ jeno, you presumed, scratched his head, you could make out his muscular figure.
you opened the door with uncertainty and the first thing you noticed was his dirty ass uniform and the smell of dirt and water bouncing off your senses. âyou're jeno, right?â you said with a coy smile, trying to not look at his bulky torso by keeping unwanted eye contact. he only nodded, his shy doe eyes met yours finally.
âwell, don't be shy.. come in then.â you muttered, you might've even given him a dirty look. this hefty nearly 6 foot male was so shy for what, what if he was a criminal? eligible for death row?!
not your problem, for now.
right now.. you wanted to have his kids.
you unconsciously licked your lips as he walked past, like that one italian weirdo from that weird italian movie where they fucked every 39 minutes. you know, that one? why was his ass fatter than yours?
âum, what seems to be the problem?â jeno's voice echoed from the kitchen, snapping you out of your thoughts. only yelping an âoh!â, you shuffled like a flintstone to the kitchen and found him leaning in the corner of your kitchen counters; looking at the sink and you with uncertainty.
âoh well,â you clasp your hands walking over to the sink. âso basically.. urm.. uhâ you side eyed him for a second before scratching your head. âit smells like mold and.. urm..â you looked at his nose again, stop looking at his nose, don't look at his lips?! why are you looking at his DICK?!
âI'll just show you.â you sighed before falling to your knees and opening the cabinet, the smell of mold almost made you shrivel into a fucking pinecone. jeno must've gotten whiff of it too because his nose scrunched in disgust and he held back a gag, but soon you'll be gagging on hisâ not now.
âsee, but I thinkââ you said, slapping your hands in dismay. you crawled under the sink, looking for that bitchass rustic pipe that you glanced at earlier. âit seems like it's this one pipeââ you babbled on and on about the pipe, literally it sounded like mimimimimi. but he really focused on, your negligee raising with every subtle movement of yours; you weren't even wearing panties..
you were leaking, more than the pipes probably.
and it needed some fixing.
if you get what I'm saying hahahaha ahhahahahah oh.. never mind.
âyeah and all he does is send meââ you came from under the sink, jeno's tongue clicked. his expression was a line between curious, perplexed, maybe focused on something.
âoh.â you mumbled, he was spaced out on something and definitely didn't listen to your rant about you undependable roomie. you looked behind you to see what he was so interested in besides your rambling but you only looked at him in confusion.
âum..â you popped your lips inward before he suddenly cleared his throat. his eyes widening in a quick realization, âoh my fault..â his belt scuffled against the cabinet when he tried to adjust his now.. erection.
urmmm, let's just ignore that.
he anchored his back slightly, âthere seems to be a lot of moistureââ he paused weirdly, eyeing your slick hole once you looked away. âon that one rusty pipe..â the male pointed at the anomaly. you could only nod, hands respectfully clasped together.
âso, I'mma start working on that..â he said whilst grabbing a wrench. âit only needs a replacement and I should be done..â he reassured, raising his head with a squiggly grin; his cheeks flushed.
simply, you nodded awkwardly before he continued with his work. what do you do now? you decided to situate yourself on your couch, glancing at him every once and a while. but during one of your peeping moments, there was a big white blob heading towards jeno.. wait NELLA?!
the feline brushed against his leg, jeno froze. you bit your lip in fear that he'll just storm out or what if he breaks out in hives? with a gut wrenching clang of his wrench, your fucking heart stopped. but, his hand extended towards the mass you called your beloved cat and your heart resumed but it still kept a hectic beat.
nella approached his inviting hand before she started to lick his index before grazing her teeth on his nail; about to bite him. almost breaking your ankle, twisting it, stubbing your toe, chipping a nail, almost falling over nothing, almost falling over a plant, almost falling over a chair, almost dying, you pick up nella and almost tear your fucking hamstrings.
she ended up biting your forearm instead and threw herself down the basement stairs, âoh, I'm sorry..â you carried a solemn tone whilst rubbing at the small but wide bite mark with a sigh. jeno stands to his feet, concern etched on his features as he inspects the wound.
his hand found your wrist and pulled it towards him, you winced at the rough padding of his fingers. âcats could really be unpredictable, huh?â he declared playfully as miniscule drops of blood seeped from the wound, you giggled at his comment but it wasn't fucking funny because what if you got rabies? you wished he would actually just break out into hives right now.
âI mean.. are you okay?â jeno finally looked up at you, his deep black eyes punctured into your soul.. there was some sort of romantical vibe in them.
you blunk and the room spun.
there's suddenly rose petals EVERYWHERE, the room is hot as hell, careless whisper is playing in the background and he suddenly has a comically large moustache like mario, âmi mujer, mi todo, Âżte importarĂa si atendiera tu herida?â his sultry gaze met your muddled face, his eyebrow raised suggestively and the buttons of his shirt popped in your face and revealed his toned torso. you seriously have no words and even I can't explain this scene as I'm typing it.
you only nodded before jeno broke out into pirouettes as he spun to the bathroom and came back with bandages twirling around and above him into a pretty pattern of curls and ended in a break out of elegant dance moves then a split.
âmi amor dĂ©jame atenderte..â he placed a chaste kiss on the lesion, it burned. he wrapped the bandage around your forearm and tore it off with a smirk.
everything was suddenly back to normal, his moustache was gone. âman what the fuck was that?!â you stumbled back and rubbed your bandaged arm in confusion, jeno's lips were parted in bewilderment. he was staring like it was your fault,
ânothing happened?â he stated sternly.
âyes, something happened! you turned into a fucking whatever the fuck!â
âI don't know what you're talking about.â he retorted, crossing his arms across his torso and steadying his weight on one foot with a pop to his hip. âyou know what, never mind.. is my sink fixed?â you asked with restraint frustration whilst rubbing your forehead, keeping yourself steady on the island just incase you would black out.
jeno shook his head, âI mean, I could fix it faster if you helped a bit..?â he asked shyly and smiled when you nodded, you now noticed the crinkle in his eyes when he did so.. heading over to the sink, you crawled into the small space along with him.. he handed you the flashlight.
he slid into the confined space, âjust point it where my hand is, alright?â he reassured you before continuing with his handiwork. jeno's muscles flexed and strained with every twist and turn of the screws. every once in awhile his leg would nudge against your bare thigh, which you now noticed and pulled the hem of the gown down but it'll just raise up slightly above your ass once again but you're sure that jeno wouldn't notice.
but, he did. the curvature of your ass would be exposed with every subtle movement of his leg, yes he's a weirdo and he's intentionally but unintentionally brushing his knee in that same area. his boner was becoming quite visible and ample than before, his neck burned in restrainted arousal and he was probably a bright cherry red. he swore that if that bitchass dress raised even an inch more, he woulâ it did.
âsorry miss, I need to g-get some tools from my truck.â jeno slid out and quickly stood on unsteady feet, you realized that his hands were weirdly set at his groin area once you looked up at him with unintended doe eyes.
uttering a quick âfuckâ, he finally gave in.
jeno's hand coursed through your hair gently, his rugged hands running through the tangles. his erection now stood out like a spear like those over exaggerated brazzers videos, his hand gripped your scalp and nudged you towards his soaked tip and pulled his cargos down with the other.
âIâ uh.. need you to suck me off, please..â he pleaded stupidly, his speech slurred and rasped slightly as his hand found the hem of his pants. âyou're so fucking pretty, please..â he whined once his cock sprung out, you were NOT going to take that flag pole down your throat, but you gave an exception for him. both of his hands found your head, gripping and clenching to your head with urgency, jeno chuckled triumphantly once you parted your lips.
the masculine scent of his member intoxicated your senses, the tip placing a blob of precum on the tip of your nose and ran down to your lip. your tongue peaked out and licked the cream off the bump, it tasted awfully sugary?
enveloping his tip into your mouth, he grunted loudly, his gentle touch turning tense in your hair. jeno's hand guided your head up and down his lengthy member, your narrow esophagus pulsating and clenching with every hurried thrust down it. veins sprawled from his other hand to his neck whilst it gripped the island, his eyes rolling back to his skull once you managed to take him all the way to his base.
âsâ fucking good at this..â he praised in an unattractive wheeze, jaw unhinging to emit another groan. he suddenly stilled at the back of your throat, your glossy,pleading eyes looking up at him. jeno started to gyrate against your nose, your jaw and lips straining trying to accommodate to his girthy base as you held back a series of gags and chokes.
his head bumped and leaked precum against your tonsil once he resumed his shallow thrusts. âmâ so close..â jeno rasped, his balls tensing against your chin. with a final shove of your head and another gag from your end, he exploded in your mouth. why'd it taste like that? you suddenly pulled away, gasping for air at the realization.
âjenoââ you hiccuped, his aching cock bobbed, resting against your top lip; quite literally interrupting you. in your blurry peripherals, nella licked at a small droplet of his release; your stomach caved at the sight.
the sweetness of his cum made you sick, the thick substance coated your throat for what seems to feel like globs. âwhy does itââ you coughed and choked on air, jeno suddenly picked you up by the armpits and sat your writhing figure on the counter.
âyour cum tastes like cheesecake..?â
taglist: @haechansbbg
#nct smut#kpop smut#smut#nct imagines#nct scenarios#nct drabbles#nct dream smut#lee jeno smut#kpop drabbles#nct fic#nct fanfic#jeno#nct dream#nct dream fic#nct#jeno smut#jeno x reader
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BITE BY BITE â CHAPTER ONE .
in which youâre a vampire, and heeseung teaches you how he likes to be bitten.
SYNOPSIS. lee heeseung has one reputation, and itâs that heâs not afraid of anything: of rules, of authority, and especially not of vampires. heâs obviously bad news, and for such reasons, youâve always made sure to never cross his path. it isnât until one fateful night that you find yourselves face to face and what he tells you makes your entire world flip on its axis.
âbite me, fangs. just like last time.â
PAIRING. college playboy!heeseung x vampire fem!reader
GENRES. romance, fantasy, slight thriller
WARNINGS. swearing; blood and violence; mentions of death; descriptive & suggestive (makeout) scenes (no smut); some angst; heeseung is kind of a dick / overly flirtatious at times / slightly toxic (sorry I'm kinda into that)
â° ( # ) tracking tag ⣠#(âBBB đ) â SPOTIFY PLAYLIST! đ
CHAPTER ONE. â° â© â 7k ïčmasterlist ïč next . â° â© â warnings : swearing, suggestive scenes, mentions of death â° â© â a/note : narrative will flit between heeseung & yn's povs
âyour son will die early.â
they say the scariest type of people are the ones who have nothing to lose.
âhe will die before his twenty-fifth birthday.â
heeseung disagrees.Â
he thinks those who have everything to lose are far more terrifying.
this was a lesson he learned when he was just twelve years old.Â
heâs never really believed in fortune tellers, but that hadnât stopped his parents from impelling him to visit one on his twelfth birthday. that fateful day was the first spark of what would soon become a raging inferno, because it was then and there that a morbid foretelling had been carved into his fate.Â
âlee heeseung will die from two bites on his neck.â
there are two types of responses to a death curse.
one, wait for your death â wither away with each second that passes, like youâre a candle slowly melting until the flame is swallowed by a pool of liquid wax.
or two, be a fire â be a raging, catastrophic wildfire; one that scorches everything within its proximity and doesnât wait to be extinguished, but has to be extinguished.
you can wait for death or play it like a game.Â
heeseung chose the latter.Â
he constantly plays dice for death.
âare you scared, heeseung?â
heeseung exhaled, his head thrown back as the girl straddled him. his back was pressed into the couch in the living room of his upscale penthouse, a body flushed against his while the two remained engulfed by midnight darkness â precisely how he liked it. in the dark, every sense felt heightened, like how her delicate fingers spread themselves over his neck, and how her mouth was so close to him that her hot breath tickled the sensitive skin below his jaw.Â
âscared?â heeseung echoed with a twinge of amusement, his tongue coating his lips. he held her hips while she leaned forward and peppered kisses all over his neck. âthatâs cute.â
âah, so itâs not your first time being bitten,â the girl purred. she then glazed her tongue across his neck, indulging in a preliminary taste, like an appetiser before a full-course meal. âi bet you love it then. being bitten, i mean.â
âi guess i do,â he whispered, feeling slightly impatient as he angled his head closer and allowed the sensation of his breath over her ear to make her shiver â âbut i love it especially when they stop wasting my time and get to the point.âÂ
his blunt words sliced through the atmosphere so abruptly that the girl seemed to halt in surprise. heeseung thinks itâs amusing that she reacts like this, because he knows he has a callous reputation that precedes him. is she surprised that what most people say about him is right?
heâs never been the type to dance around his words. heâs honest and forthright and as a result, doesnât bother to hide the fact that he wants just one thing from this girl â nothing more.Â
âo-okay, sorry,â the girl cleared her throat and licked her lips. she inhaled deeply before opening her mouth wide enough that her fangs began to extend outward. heeseung could feel their sharp tips lightly graze his skin, which roused a flame of exhilaration within him.Â
he felt his heart begin to pick up and he shifts in his seat, eyes fluttering shut with furrowed brows.Â
a slow exhale escaped his nose.
two sharp pricks.
one.
two.
crunch.
a soft grunt leaves his lips. the instant he feels his blood surge up through his veins and out his neck, he waits for that surge of euphoria he had experienced a long time ago.
he waits and waits and waits â but nothing happens.
everything within him falls flat and all his anticipation dissipates like smoke in air.
again.
yet again, heâs disappointed.
they say the first bite for a vampire is a slippery slope, because once you have a taste for blood, the hunger becomes insatiable. ravenous. like thereâs an unquenchable thirst to devour, and devour, and devour.Â
heeseung wonders if the same could apply to him.
is it possible for humans to become insatiable?
is it normal that every time he finds himself here, his mind always floats back to that one girl?
he hasnât been able to rest ever since that very first bite.Â
in fact, heâs been relentlessly chasing that thrill â chasing her â for years.Â
it comes with a sigh and a sharp decline of the exhilaration in his veins that heeseung realises tonight is no exception.Â
tonight is just another unsatisfying bite.Â
even after four years, heâs still not able to replicate the sensation he had his first time.Â
while he knows that bite by bite he inches closer to death, he also knows nobodyâs bite has ever felt quite as gratifying as yours â you, the girl of his first bite.Â
tonight is the nail in the coffin.
he needs to find you.
after all, your bite is the only one thatâs ever made him feel alive.
.
.
.
your dad always instilled one lesson in you: be relentless.
âhi!â you stepped forward to a fellow college student, your hand outstretched with a flyer. âwould you like the chance to win a gift card valued at twenty dollars? iâm looking for study particiââ
the student scowls instantly, openly glaring at you. âget out of the fucking way, leech.â Â
he shoves past your shoulder, bumping you hard enough that all the flyers in your hands fall and scatter everywhere along the concrete walkway. you stagger back, stunned by the sight of the disarrayed paper sheets on the ground.
second. that was the second time today that had happened. all your life, youâve tried to come to terms with the fact that humans and vampires might never get along, but being treated this way certainly stung.
being relentless, as it seems, came at the cost of your dignity.
itâs been roughly two hours since you had arrived at your universityâs front courtyard, sweltering under the sun in desperation of finding study participants for your course assignment.Â
so far â nobody.Â
literally not a single soul.Â
your genius idea was that youâd be able to take advantage of the booming foot traffic at this time in the afternoon. after all, the courtyard has always been known to be the place students pass in between classes, especially since itâs lavishly embellished with open, wide cement walkways; gorgeous topiaries and flowers; and a stunning view of the main building out front.Â
itâs your second year as a nursing student and, in a twist of sickening irony, this semester is all about haematology. blood. the lab project youâve been assigned is simple: you need to gather some study participants, practise your phlebotomy skills, test their blood, and consult them for any blood-borne viruses. the only problem? itâs been about a month since you were assigned this project and youâve been wildly unsuccessful in recruiting participants.
the reason why is so obvious that it hurts.
nobody in their right mind wants to trust a vampire with their blood.
be relentless, you echoed to yourself with another sigh, collecting the flyers off the ground.
with what little morsels of resilience you could muster, you stood back up and plastered a polite smile on your face, making quick strides to a pair of girls who were chatting under a large tree. they looked friendly, so you felt a hopeful shine to your lips as the edges tugged upwards.
âhi!â you beamed with a sunny grin, âmy name isââ
âgo gargle some garlic, fuck-face.â they sneered at you, slamming the flyers out of your hands.Â
the flyers once again spatter everywhere on the grass, on which the girls are sure to trample over as they storm off.Â
great.
youâre fucked.
thereâs no way youâre going to be able to start this project, let alone finish it with a passing grade.
you know the optics of your situation are a little strange, but you really do care about nursing. yes, itâs ironic and ridiculous for a vampire to have anything to do with healthcare, but most things about you were a little ironic anyway.Â
youâre the daughter of an eminent vampire and a blood descendant of hundreds of generations â with your inauguration coming up in two months, you were going to be formally recognised as the inheritor of your fatherâs legacy and fortune. this was supposed to be a prerogative of being the great park kanghoâs daughter, but it felt more like a ball and chain to a predetermined future you wanted no part of.
it was all sunghoonâs fault â had your estranged brother not run away from the family like a coward, you wouldnât be in this situation. it would have been his inauguration.
you know itâs weird that you donât want anything to do with this, but heck â you barely understood how to be a vampire in the first place. you havenât even had your first bite yet. itâs strange and a little embarrassing that youâre the first vampire of your family lineage to be scared of biting into a human, but you couldnât help it â the thought was terrifying and has always been ever since you were a child.
this fear dates back to when you were twelve and a rumor had lingered around your classmates before it finally reached you. apparently, there was once a vampire who bit into the wrong human and died.Â
it was unprecedented: vampires were always the predator and humans the prey, which explained your utter horror when the rumor turned out to be true.Â
and it turned out to be about your mother.Â
since then, youâve lived your life scared in the shadows, puppeteered by trepidation and the looming fear that you might meet the same fate one day. as youâve learned, being the one who bites doesnât necessarily mean youâre the one who doesnât get hurt.Â
in this world, there are fish and there are snakes â people who bite bait and find themselves reeled in, and people who bite with the intention of injecting their venom.Â
they both bite, but just one survives.Â
frankly, you didnât want to be either. and perhaps it was these things â a college degree and your new part-time job â that would save you from having to follow your fatherâs footsteps.
was it so bad to want to pass this semester?Â
was it so bad to dream beyond the future set out for you?
you sigh with dejection, unable to withstand the way your shoulders slump.Â
you run your fingers through your hair, freezing when your eyes flit into the distance and something catches your eye.Â
lee heeseung is seated at one of the bench tables. thereâs a crowd of people swarming around him â there almost always is â and he has one elbow propped up on the table, palm up with his chin rested on it. his gaze is initially trained ahead of him while he engages in a conversation with one of his friends, until suddenly â his eyes flick upward and you both lock gazes from across the courtyard.
your heart slows into a halt at the sight of his penetrating gaze, a complete coldness sweeping over your body to keep you frozen.
shit.
you quickly tear your eyes away from him, feeling your heart begin to pick up.
shit.Â
shit.
shit.
if thereâs one person in the world your father has always warned you about, itâs lee heeseung.
campus heartthrob, lee heeseung.
son of your dadâs most loathed enemy, lee heeseung.
chaos and fire in one pretty package, lee heeseung.
undeniably, devilishly handsome lee heeseung with silver, almost lavender locks and big, brown bambi-like eyes that looked far more innocent than they actually were.
your accidental eye contact was a cruel mistake, because it has now become the catalyst that prompted him to stand and slowly make his way over to you. you felt goosebumps across your skin as you hurriedly tried to gather the flyers in your arms, hoping to make your escape before he reaches you.
after all, heeseung is, for lack of better words â a snake.Â
granted, youâve only spoken to him once in your life, but the whispers of everybody around you seemed to suggest you were lucky.Â
as the youngest son of his already notorious family, lee heeseung has the most infamous name in your college, one which induces a mix of both intimidation and intrigue. he has one reputation, and itâs that heâs not afraid of anything: of rules, of authority, and especially not of vampires. his repertoire consists of constant partying, illicit affairs, and a penchant for breaking girlsâ hearts and collecting vampiresâ bites.
he turned heads in every room he walked and based on the fleeting moments youâd seen him in the flesh, had an aura that was inexplicably captivating. there was a reason why he never struggled in finding company wherever he went â most people found his confidence extremely attractive.Â
the worst rumor youâd heard was that he had some sort of obsession with being bitten. and that heâd dismiss people at the drop of a hat once he got what he wanted. you couldnât think of anything worse than being involved with such a callous guy, which would explain the utter dread you felt when you saw his shadow hovering over your crouched body.
shit.
you gulp, feeling like cornered prey.
most people agree that heâs all types of bad news â that heâs a fire who easily burns anyone dumb enough to get close â yet he attracts people like moths to a flame.Â
a flame.
you were going to make sure you did whatever it took to not get burned.
.
.
.
itâs obvious you donât remember him.
heeseung thinks itâs kind of funny, actually â because most people are so well-acquainted with his name that when they meet him for the first time, they act as though theyâve known him for years.
but you donât seem to remember him at all.Â
nothing about you seems to indicate that you recall that night you two had first met, about four years ago under a willow tree on a cliff that overlooked the city.
you bit him that day.
while this is a memory vividly engraved in his mind, he thinks the fact you had fainted afterwards must be a contributing factor to your amnesia.Â
âa twenty-dollar gift card?â he chuckles, eyes raking over one of the flyers from the pile he helps you pick up off the ground. âsounds fun.â
when he looks up and the two of you stand facing each other properly, heeseung gets the first glimpse of the subtle scarlet glow in your eyes for the first time in years. at once, everything within him ignites like fireworks â he feels excitement expand the walls of his veins while his heart drums with an echo, especially when you stare back at him and your proximity allows your familiar scent to flood his senses.Â
he canât help but lick his lips as his mind flits back to that night and the ecstasy you gave him with just one bite.Â
the willow tree. your hair. your hands. your fangs.Â
shit. youâre even cuter than you were back then.
heeseung has always had a habit of chasing pleasure.
itâs safe to say heâs decided that youâll be his next chase.
âuh, thanks,â you whisper, watching him pick up the last of your flyers. he also notices the empty sign up sheet on the ground, so he adds that to the top of the pile before holding it out for you to take.
when you take the flyers from him, he senses your hesitation, which makes it obvious that you probably donât have the best impression of him. itâs fine; he can easily change that. âyour study sounds interesting,â heeseung flashes you the charming smile and moon-crescent eyes that most people seemed to fall for.
unfortunately, it has the opposite effect. you donât do a great job at hiding your grimace, because itâs there in your eyes and in the way your lips slightly dip. youâre suspicious of him. he canât blame you â after all, he just watched you get shut down and sneered at by several people for half an hour.Â
that, and the fact that unflattering rumors seem to follow him wherever he goes.
ïżœïżœnot many people seem to think so,â you clear your throat, gnawing on your lips. his eyes trickle down the length of your hair as he notes all the different ways youâve changed since you last came face to face. âbut anyway, thanks again for picking up my flyers.â
âno worries,â heeseung tilts his head with a calm expression, though his lips twitch upward when he sees you tuck your lip between your teeth.Â
noted. youâve done that twice now.
once is an action and twice is a habit.Â
âso where can i sign up?â
âoh, uh â i-i donât think itâs really your thing,â you let out a breathy chuckle, diverting your eyes.Â
âhow would you know what is and isnât my thing?â he steps forward, lowering his head slightly so that you meet his gaze. he has to say that he loves the way you stare back at him â eyes widened in a mixture of surprise and wariness, and even the way you shuffle back in an attempt at creating distance.Â
âjust an educated guess,â you gulp, hugging your flyers closer to your chest. âyou donât really seem like the type and i wouldnât want to bore you,â your eyes narrow at him.
âyou could never bore me,â heeseung counters, the edges of his lips curling into a small grin. âbesides, iâm super interested in haematology.â
haematology⊠getting bitten by pretty girls⊠same thing.
he watches your brows slowly furrow. you shuffle back again and he stifles a laugh. frankly, the way you keep drawing the line between the two of you makes this interaction all the more entertaining.Â
you appear to contemplate your next words before staring right back up at him with a certain ferocity that makes his chest squeeze with excitement. âactually, i have enough participants already. the studyâs full,â you forced a tight smile, âsorry.â
ha.Â
you liar.
you act as though heeseung didnât just watch you get rejected by half the campus.Â
âwow, what a shame,â he shakes his head, clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth. âi really wanted that gift card.â
âaw, that sucks! so disappointing!â you comically pout, feigning regret with a solemn shake of the head. âi guess youâre just going to have to pay like a normal person.â
âi guess so,â he chuckled, âmaybe iâll pay with this empty sign up sheet.â he leans forward and swipes the topmost piece of paper from the pile in your arms, holding it up for you to see.
your smile instantly drops. you stare at him in horror as you snatch the paper from him, scrunching it up into a ball. âth-this was a second sheet!âÂ
heeseung canât help that a smirk slithers to his lips because he finds this irony amusing â you seem slightly disgusted by him, but his mind runs with relentless thoughts of you like heâs a hamster on a wheel.
you donât remember him.
perhaps he has to make you remember him.Â
âitâs okay,â he exhales with his nose, grinning while he looks you up and down, âit was just an excuse to talk to you anyway,â he leaned in with a playfully raised brow, âmaybe even take you out on a date.âÂ
he wants to laugh out loud when your face drops into a disgusted expression. youâre almost sneering at him with the way your lips contort into a scowl. he wasnât serious, but he loves to watch the animation in all your reactions.Â
itâs entertaining.
itâs cute.Â
âum, no thanks,â you scoff, backing away with a few slow steps. heeseung straightens his back, watching you hold your hands up as the distance between the two of you widens within seconds.
âoh, wow, um look at the time!â you quickly check your watch and nervously chuckle. âsorry i-i gotta go! my â uh, dog just died so yeah, bye!â
heeseung attempts to withstand laughing as you twist on your heels and bolt, running as though your life depends on it. you cast just one cursory glance over your shoulder before you disappear from his sight completely, leaving behind a flyer on the ground.Â
it should hurt his pride that youâre the first girl to turn him down in such an abrupt manner, but he knows time is on his side.Â
after all, things have a way of working out for him.
he has the cheese.
he has the trap.
he just needs to wait for you to bite.Â
.
.
.
âdo you want to work overtime?â
your honest answer is no.Â
your even more honest answer is absolutely the fuck no.
however, your lips are suddenly bobbing up and down like a marionette and you find yourself agreeing to another two hours of what you consider hell on earth.Â
as it appears, applying for a new job as a bartender in one of the cityâs most bustling nightclubs is the latest addition to your library of horrible mistakes.
decelis is supposedly the best nightclub in the city.
objectively, you can see why itâs so popular among college students. the establishment itself boasted of three storeys plus a rooftop, with an exquisite bar on each level. the atmosphere here is undeniably electrifying, and if you werenât so painfully sober, perhaps youâd be able to appreciate that.
ironically, clubbing has never really been your thing.Â
how could it, when party music is currently resounding in your ears; flashing neon lights are searing your eyes; and sweaty, gross bodies are screaming various drink orders at you from every direction imaginable?
you wouldnât normally be caught dead in a place like this, but you were desperate for a job. it was just last week that you had waltzed into the club and slipped them your rĂ©sumĂ©. you honestly werenât expecting to get the job, but it was an offer you couldnât refuse when they handed it to you.Â
because if you wanted any chance of escaping the web in which you were entrapped, you needed to know youâd be able to fend for yourself.
but as one can imagine, bartending is fast-paced and demanding.
you thought it would be exciting to work with a backdrop of party music and led lights, but your first two shifts were dreadful. you learned over a hundred different recipes, cleaned up vomit five times, skipped your lunch break both days, and found your brain rattling in your skull to the beat of jay parkâs music when you stumbled home at five am.
while your coworkers are utterly lovely and you had unbridled access to free alcohol, such things werenât enough to offset possibly the worst part of the job â the drunk customers.Â
âfuck, youâre cute as hell,â the boy drunkenly exclaimed from across the bar benchtop, while you watched him struggle to keep himself erect on his feet.Â
âthanks. so is that cash or card?â you stared, a hand hovering over the cash register and the other cradling the eftpos machine.Â
âare you a vampy?â he ignored your question, his chortle punctured by a few hiccups.Â
you slammed your eyes shut in irritation, regretting the overtime already. the penalty rate wasnât worth it, because if thereâs one thing you detest the most, itâs being called vampy.
nevertheless, you force your lips to curl into a courteous smile, though your stare hollowed like pitless voids. âif youâre asking if iâm a vampire, then yes.âÂ
âthatâs hot,â he chuckles, slipping on his feet but managing to use the bench to catch his fall. âi mean, hella scary â but still really hot.âÂ
âsir, for the love of god, please tell me if youâd prefer to pay with cash or card,â your jaw clenched while your resolve began to chip away.Â
âsir?â the boy gasped incredulously, offended by your implication. âwhat am i? a fifty-year-old man?â
you sure as fuck act like one. you exhaled, containing yourself. âokay, my apologies. so is it cash or card?â you grit your teeth, fantasising about climbing over the bar and strangling the life out of the guy.
âoh, just put it on the tab,â he dismisses you with a lazy wave of his hand, then snatches the glass from the bench before sculling its contents in a swift movement. âlee heeseungâs tab.â
of course.
why did you even bother to ask? more than half of the people youâve served tonight have been stacking their orders on that guyâs tab. perhaps this is why youâve been having such a shit shift â every second order you take is a horrible reminder of your interaction with the boy from earlier today â which, for the record â is something you desperately wish to forget.
âmaybe even take you out on a date.â
that crazy bastard.
was that supposed to be a stupid joke?
the animosity between your two families has always been obvious â and barring today, heâs never approached you and vice versa. you thought it was an unspoken mutual agreement.Â
sure, there have been times youâve caught his gaze on campus or at mutual events, but that was it â today was the only time heâd gone out of his way to speak to you. this is the reason why you found it so fishy â there has to be something he wants from you, though you canât quite put your finger on what that might be.
the only time youâd ever interacted with lee heeseung before today was a strange occurrence you recall back in high school, when you had woken in the nursing infirmary and he was sitting beside you with his head resting on your bed.Â
these two experiences make you feel the exact same way: like his gaze has a tendency to shoot right through you as if he could read you like an open book. you hate that. you hate his penetrating gaze and his boundless arsenal of smirks and smiles and the way he carried himself like he always had the upper hand.
whatever.Â
hoping to rid yourself of these thoughts, you quickly shake your head and divert your attention back to your job.
half an hour passes as you continually hustle behind the bar, attending as many orders as you can. you work as though you have four hands â sprinting around along the circular bar while people shout their orders at you.
eight tequila shots.
three vodka raspberries.
two cosmopolitans.
five apple ciders.
it isnât too long before your coworker, yunjin, taps you on the shoulder and offers to replace you while you run off for your shift break.Â
you quickly thank her and rush to the other, quieter side of the bar, but in the midst of removing the apron from your uniform, you hear a voice suddenly ring.
âis the sign up sheet for a drink also full, too?â
you instantly yelp, jumping in fright from the sudden voice. you snap your head toward its direction, where heeseung is leaning over the counter, smirking at you.
what the actual hell?
you almost feel a little winded at the sight of him. frankly, itâs only been a few hours since youâd last seen him, but he looks like a completely different person when heâs all dressed up for the club.
what replaces his usually clean and casual style is something that exudes confidence and suave charisma. even you find it difficult to deny that he looks as alluring as most people claim. tonight, heâs wearing a black button up top that accentuates his wild shoulders. you notice the first few buttons are unfastened and left open to showcase his pretty neckline and the silver chain around his neck, which glints in the dim lighting. he has half of his silver hair slicked back, the other half swept forward and hanging over his forehead.Â
heâs gorgeous, you think, and it almost makes your blood boil.
âi only ask because the sign up sheet to stare is full,â he cracks open a smirk at your deadpanned expression. âbut i guess i could make an exception for you.âÂ
âyouâre following me.âÂ
âactually, iâm a regular here,â he smiles, nudging his chin behind you. your gaze follows his direction and you see a picture of him and his friends hanging from the wall. not exactly a flex that heâs a frequent clubgoer, but he certainly proved his point.
âfine,â you huff in concession. âgood for you,â you say sarcastically, reaching down to scoop your bag up in your hands from the lower shelves just behind the counter.Â
âbefore you leave, my go-to is whiskey on the rocks,â he smiles, propping his elbow up so that his cheek can rest on his palm. âi donât think the owners would be very happy to see a regular leave⊠unsatisfied.âÂ
you pressed your lips together, turning your head over your shoulder to see poor yunjin struggling to keep herself afloat, inundated with orders. you sigh, begrudgingly placing your bag back down so that you could pour him a glass.
âlook,â you yank the most expensive whiskey bottle from the shelf and pour it into a glass, hoping the total price of his bar tab knocks his ego down a peg or two. as you place a few ice cubes in it and slide it over to him, you pin him down with a dark glare and an ugly frown. âi donât know what the hell it is you want from me, but iâm not buying your act.â
âwhat act?â he smirked in amusement, taking a sip of the drink you handed him.
âthe whole iâm interested in haematology act,â you scoff, too exhausted from your shift to tip-toe around the topic. âlook, iâm not interested, okay?â you run your hand through your hair and sigh loudly. âiâm sure youâre a nice guy,â you almost gag on air when you say this, âbut youâre just not my type.â
âthen whatâs your type?â
âi donât know; guys that donât creep me out?â you hiss, frankly surprised by your own hostility. you hadnât planned to be so forthright with your words, but frankly, you were too exhausted to care. heeseung doesnât creep you out per se â but you knew guys like him only have selfish intentions.
they needed to fought with fire.
heeseung doesnât say anything when you throw your bag over your shoulder and stamp away from the bar, and you donât even bother to cast him a final glance.
however, youâre only able to make it halfway to the exit before you realise you had left your phone behind.
crap.
thereâs a moment of hesitation before you decide to go back, because thereâs nothing more embarrassing than having to backtrack a dramatic exit.
nevertheless, you begrudgingly twist on your heels and make the shameful journey back, noticing as you near the bar that heeseung is no longer where he had been sitting earlier. the glass youâd poured for him still remains on the counter, but in a matter of seconds, you suddenly see a girl slide into his old seat.
huh.
circumventing the crowd in the middle, you find your way back to the bar and retrieve your phone. as the design of the circular bar allows you to conceal yourself behind the middle pillar, she doesnât seem to notice you as you watch her through a blind spot mirror on the roof.
you donât understand the compulsion within yourself, but you allow yourself a minute or two to observe her.
you stare at her big eyes, her medium cut layered hair and the blunt bangs across her face. she looks familiar, you think to yourself, halting once you see her glance over her own shoulders suspiciously.
you watch carefully as she does one last eye sweep of her surroundings before retrieving a small paper packet from her handbag.
what the heck is she doing?Â
you stare with a confused frown, eyes slowly widening as you watch her rip the packet open and pour its contents into heeseungâs drink.
she then dips her finger into the glass and swirls it around.
and just like that, the powder dissolves colourlessly and it almost appears as though heeseungâs drink has been untouched.
your heart shoots down your feet when you realise what sheâs done.
sheâs spiked his drink.
.
.
.
the adrenaline allows you to cast everything aside â your long-awaited break, your animosity with heeseung, and even your bag.
because within milliseconds, the girl springs to her feet and re-enters the dancing floor while you struggle to tail her, losing her amidst the sea of bodies.Â
fuck!
fuck. fuck. fuck.
you quickly exit the bar and follow her steps the best you can, though itâs difficult when the lights are low enough that everybody blends into a vague swarm of heads and bodies. she has dark hair, but so do half the people here. her frame and height are small, which makes it all the more difficult to locate her. every time you think you recognise her, you realise youâd been pursuing the wrong culprit.Â
everybody in the crowd is shoving you in all different directions.
sheâs nowhere to be found.
and you canât seem to find heeseung, either.
shit.
shit.
shit.
when you feel yourself enter a swivet of panic, you tell yourself to do the most rational thing â grab your phone and call for help. unfortunately, the sheer volume of club music resounding around you makes it difficult for yunjin to hear you on the other side of the call.
thus, you force your way to the outskirts of the club where your voice is more audible, but itâs only here that you finally look up and spot heeseung climbing the stairs to the second storey.Â
there he is!
you immediately hang up on the call and thrust your way through people in the direction of the stairs, eyes widening with alarm when you see the girl trail behind heeseung, the drink in her hand. the pair eventually reach the height of the stairs and the second storey, prompting you to yell out his name as loud as you can.
âlee heeseung!â you call, but in a similar fashion to your phone call â the music drowns out your voice. you scramble now, sprinting your way up the stairs while screaming his name loud enough that he finally stops in his tracks.
âheeseung!â you pant for a breath, settling your feet on the second level while you leaned forward over your knees. âw-waitââ
âwho are you?â the girl asks, so you snap your head up and sneer at her.Â
you stomp over toward her and attempt to grab the glass from her, but unfortunately her grip is equally as strong.
for a few seconds, the two of you engage in a tug of war.Â
âwh-what the heck?â the girl shrieks loudly, âwhat the fuck are youââ
youâre both struggling for the glass, pulling it in your own directions.Â
it isnât until you tug a little too hard that her grip suddenly loosens.Â
the cup flies in your direction and tilts toward you anâ
splash!
you freeze, gasping at the sensation of cold liquid running down your chest.Â
no no no no no no no noâ
you look down at your uniform and wince at the sight.Â
fuck.
liquid is trickling down your chest and legs and pooling at the bottom of your shoes.
fucking fantastic.
you throw your head back and sigh loudly, shutting your eyes in frustration before slamming them back open.Â
âi quit. i officially quit,â you mutter aloud, scoffing in disbelief to yourself. with the glass in one hand, you use your free hand to fruitlessly swipe at your uniform in order to flick off whatever remnants you can, though unfortunately the liquid has already saturated your clothes.
passerbys murmur and gawk at the sight of you, causing immense heat to flood your face and ears while you lower your head in humiliation. this is so embarrassing, you think to yourself, desperately wishing to remove yourself from the scene.
while you turn around to leave, you suddenly halt in your tracks and find yourself committing to one more stupid idea.
you storm over toward the pair and grab heeseungâs wrist, yanking him with you as you stomp your way to the backrooms.
.
.
.
âi saw her spike your drink,â is the first thing you say when you shut the door behind yourself, and the two of you find yourselves inside one of the empty vip rooms.Â
youâre encased by four padded walls in a dimly lit room, on which colourful flashes of light dance and flicker all thanks to the led projector on the ceiling.Â
thereâs an entertainment centre and a tv screen on one end of the spacious room, while a circular table and a couch that perfectly circles around its perimeter is on the other side. you storm over and slam the glass down on the table, harshly throwing your bottom onto the couch while you knot your arms across your chest.
âshe poured something in that,â you point to the remaining drink in the glass, glaring up at him, âi saw her.âÂ
heeseung is silent for a moment while he watches you. he briefly tears his gaze from yours to observe his surroundings before facing you again, both brows raised slightly. âwow, you smell great.âÂ
his eyes flicker to your soaked shirt. âbut you look better than you smell.âÂ
âyouââ you scoff, slamming your hand down on the table in frustration. âyou ungrateful piece of shit!â
he immediately stifles a laugh, biting his bottom lip to refrain his grin from growing any wider. âi-iâm sorry?â
âi was trying to help you!â you exclaim incredulously, springing to your feet as you furiously storm over to him. âdid you not hear what i just said? i said she spiked your drink! do you not understand what that means? for all you know, you could have been poisoned! i was trying to save you!â
momentary silence engulfs the two of you after your outburst. the silence is sobering, if youâre going to be honest. after all, you feel immediate regret trickle in, but before you can backtrack, heeseung tilts his head and watches you with a calm gaze.Â
âsave?â he echoed while a smirk slithered to his lips, and another important realisation strikes you like a rock to the head.
perhaps you should have just let him die.Â
ânow look at me,â you throw your hands in the air, scoffing again in disbelief. âiâm drenched in whiskey, godââ you openly gag, âthis is disgusting! the least you can say is thank you.âÂ
âyou want me to thank you?â he raised a brow.
âwell, you could have died; i practically saved your life,â perhaps this was a hyperbole, but you were feeling petty â he didnât look as shaken up as you did. frankly, you were beginning to think you cared more about his safety than he did.Â
âsee, youâre mistaken,â heeseung took a step toward you, causing you to step back. he kept advancing toward you, closing the distance, until you felt your back softly hit one of the walls.Â
shit.
having heeseung in such an uncomfortable proximity made you want to shrink into a ball.
âwh-what?â
âi said, youâre mistaken,â you saw his eyes glint with amusement as he placed an arm against the wall beside your head, using it as an anchor while he leaned in closer, your faces now inches apart. you gulp, warmth crawling up your neck and into your cheeks from the sheer proximity and sensation of his hot breath grazing your face.Â
âi think itâs cute that youâre worried about me,â you watched as the edges of his lips curled before his eyes landed below your nose. you froze when his fingers were on your chin, lightly gripping it so that he could get a better view of your lips. âbut like i said, i donât need saving.â
âyouâre right,â you smiled sarcastically, slapping his fingers away from your chin, âmaybe i should have just let her poison you. or sedate you and sell your organs to the black market. do you have a preference for how youâd like to die?âÂ
âdonât worry,â he whispered to you, voice so low and ghostly quiet you thought you could feel it sweep right through you. âi already know how and when iâm going to die, so donât bother trying to save me.â
his words struck you.
you frowned in confusion, unable to decipher the cryptic meaning behind them.
heeseung smiled at your reaction, leaning into your ear so that his warm voice sunk into your ears like honey. âin fact, do something else for me instead.âÂ
you froze, eyes flickering to the bare skin of his neck, on which you see old scar marks that appear like vampire bites.
you quickly place a hand on his chest to push him away, but this contact only seemed to encourage him â instead, he gently grabbed your hand and wrapped it around his waist.
âbite me,â he whispers alluringly, âi bet you want blood more than anyone else.â
your face dropped as his scent overwhelmed your senses.
something musky. woody. a hint of floral.
and a hint of blood.
you felt your eyes drop and your stomach churn, because for the first time, you feel something within you â a gnawing sensation.
an ache. an itch. an urge.
a hunger, even.
âw-waitâŠâ you blurted, feeling a little lightheaded while your heart left a hammering echo inside your chest. you swallowed and swallowed but your mouth felt drier than ever.Â
âif youâre going to save me,â he exhaled. âthen just bite me, fangs,â heeseung lured you in with a soft voice.Â
he then leaned in close enough that his breath tickled the sensitive skin of your ear.Â
âjust like last time.â
A/N. well that escalated quickly đ€ n e ways I literally had so much fun writing this chapter (sorry i cbfd proof reading lel) bc this is my first vampire au. also my first playboy au so BE NICE PLS DONT TEAR ME TO SHREDS LMFAOOO đ anyway words cannot even describe how excited I am for this fic - I've been craving the thought of writing smh a lil more actiony/thrilling than my usual romcom repertoire SO. I hope u r strapping urself in for a riiiiiiide >:) anyways aaaa tysm for reading && I hope u guys enjoyed the first chap!! sorry for all the long text but i promise the groundwork is necessary for the future shitshow in upcoming chapters SO. đ«Ą
likes, rbs & feedback are always appreciated! :) â° â© â masterlist // next chapter .
#k-labels#enhanet#hyfenet#heeseung x reader#heeseung au#enhypen imagines#lee heeseung fic#enhypen fic#enhypen fanfic#enhypen scenarios#heeseung imagines#enhypen fluff#heeseung scenarios#heeseung fluff#enhypen x reader#enhypen drabbles#lee heeseung imagine#heeseung drabbles#enhypen heeseung x reader#heeseung fic#heeseung fanfic#lee heeseung#lee heeseung au#heeseung fanfiction#heeseung enhypen#lee heeseung edit#enhypen headcanons#heeseung headcanons#(âBBBđ)
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I know this might seem like a bit of a random question, but what are some criticisms of Slightly Damned you can't stand, and what are some you think are at least somewhat valid? I only ask because I do have a few problems with the comic (not really gonna go into here because I don't want to come off as too critical obviously) but I feel like some of the more noteworthy ones have been too long established to just change it altogether, and the best one can do is make something better from its foundation (which I must say, you've done a really good job at ^^)
The complaints that I think are the most unfair are by bigots who think my comic is only getting more inclusive because I'm pandering to wokeness or whatever. These people are also the most likely to misgender me and have no idea what they're talking about. They just can't stand the bare minimum of gay and are often hypocritical, using fallacies as the basis of their arguments. It's tempting to want to argue back, but when has that ever worked on the internet? I think the most valid complaint is that the pacing of the comic is too slow. Sure. Not much I can do about that one. My comic alone doesn't pay all my bills. If I focus exclusively on work, I get depressed, so I have to goof off sometimes. I'm just one person. I don't have a team. I'm doing the best I can already. Another valid complaint is that people don't like my blend of humor and drama. Sometimes readers find it inappropriate or jarring. It's valid because I recognize it as a difference of opinion and understand why they feel that way. But I don't care. I like my weird mix of goofy faces and drama. I sometimes make jokes during periods of great stress in real life. I love all the wacky faces and over-the-top cartoon action among dire circumstances in comics like One Piece and Usagi Yojimbo. Like, it's just my style, man I don't seek out unsolicited advice about my comic. Some people may think that's snobbish of me, but the truth is, very little of what you find that way is actually valuable.
"And as to those critics, she said that sheâs managed to do something that might make us all better off- she doesnât read the comment sections. In perhaps the most roundabout poignant part of the talk, she likened receiving feedback about her work as being like consuming food. She would take a pie from someone she knew and trusted but compared taking unsolicited barbs from strangers as âlicking a handle on the subway.â She used to pay very close attention to that kind of critique because she felt that it somehow would make her a better creator but ultimately decided that it was only toxic." - I HAVE SEEN OLIVIA JAIMES, THE CARTOONIST BEHIND THE NEW NANCY, by Rocko Jerome (2018)
Besides the outright hateful sentiments, a lot of unsolicited criticism can be categorized as "I don't like this story because it didn't do what I wanted it to do." Which is fine. I do the same thing when I try to process stories and talk to my friends about them.
But I don't get in the author's face to tell them I think they did a bad job. At the end of the day, no matter how crap I think someone's story might be, I'm not psychic. I don't really know if they did exactly what they set out to do. For example, people have never stopped giving me crap about the death of certain characters. But their whining has only made my convictions stronger. I don't like when other stories don't take deaths seriously, with a real sense of permanence and grief that is not easily solved. To someone else, seeing that character be alive might have solved all sorts of problems they had-- but that's not my story. I've had someone tell me that the focus on Buwaro and Kieri's mushy romance is too distracting to the main story. I don't think that person knew that a large part of why I started making this comic in the first place was as a vehicle for my OTP. I also want to make said vehicle entertaining and worthwhile. If I didn't succeed for that person, that's fine. But don't tell me that half the reason I made the comic is distracting from it. What do they know about what I want? What do you really know about what the author wanted to achieve? That isn't to say that my comic is immune to scrutiny. Of course it has problems; every story has problems, depending on your perspective and the basis by which it's getting judged. I've solicited and received thoughtful criticism and helpful advice from teachers, my advisor, my friends, and from reading/watching tutorials. Some I agreed with, others I chose to ignore. Sometimes it just took a while for me to come around. I hope I never stop learning and improving. Like you said, I have to keep working with the foundation I already set. But I don't feel trapped by it; my creativity is being challenged in new ways. I have a lot of playing pieces and now I get to see what kinds of connections I can make between them with my older, more experienced (both good and bad) mind. Since Slightly Damned is a story serialized over a long period of time, a certain amount of it is made up as I go along. I do have plans and goals, of course, but I'm also discovering this world alongside my readers.
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