#enjoy the intro chapter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sio-writes · 2 years ago

Text

Witch's Gambit - Chapter 1

Hello everyone! I'd like to introduce you to my NaNoWriMo project, Witch's Gambit! It tells the story of Lucy Breban, a witch living in the magical city of Grayslate. After her good friend Elliot is murdered in cold blood, Lucy must employ the help of her reclusive, skeletal neighbor Weston when the answers the police provide aren't enough. As they get closer to the truth (as well as each other), the two begin to unravel an underground secret that could rock the very foundations of the place they call home.

I'm super excited to bring this to you guys! I actually have a buffer of about 10 chapters as opposed to...well none, lol, so hopefully that gives me enough time to make some proper edits and polish it even more for you all.

Tags for this chapter are: Heavy violence, and minor character death.

Elliot Forsythe died sometime between seven-thirty and midnight last night, decapitated and drained of his vampiric blood. He's tall and lanky, he had cropped black hair, and skin pale as marble. He was the first friend I made upon moving to Grayslate, my neighbor for close to five years. The winter cloak I'd been meaning to return to him still sits in my hallway closet.

Reading his memories feels like a violation, but I try to tell myself that he'd want me to do this, he'd want me to confirm it. I'd been asked, begged really, by Alma to be here. My messaging stone had gone warm with all her calls, and when I'd finally answered she'd been frantic and out of sorts. The news hadn't had time to truly set in before I was being questioned by two white men in their late forties, then sat in front of my friend's body, tracing sigils on the floor around him in chalk.

I'm thrust into memories that aren't mine, taking his place as if I were there. His childhood in the countryside with two doting if slightly overprotective parents. The fling with a naga I recognize as owning the bakery down the street makes my heart flutter as his did. Adopting his golden retriever that he named Paul brings such a rush of joy I temporarily forget I'm reading the memories of a dead man. I can smell the apple crumble his mother would bake every year for his birthday, even bringing it out on a visit when he moved to the city. The breeze in my hair is refreshing as he rides his bike to the store.

I've been on that bike, held my legs stiff on the back wheel as he pedaled, cutting a corner too quick and nearly throwing us into traffic. We went to dingy concerts together, celebrated holidays, drank tea on Sundays when all the attractive folk were exiting the yoga studio.

And now I'm kneeling on the floor, touching his corpse, watching memories that aren't mine.

Soul imprints start at the beginning, so I have to sift through half-remembered interactions with faces that shift like they're underwater. I see what he sees, and his emotions are my own. I'm seeing the world through his eyes, his recollection, his senses. Everything is laid bare like cards on a table. There's sections that're gone, repressed or more likely just forgotten because they were unimportant. But I don't mind pushing past years of his life. I want to be here as little as possible. To tell the detectives what they need to know and go back home to cry at the third crystal clear memory of him hugging Paul the dog.

"How long is this going to take?" I hear one of the detectives ask. His voice is the deep baritone of the taller gentleman I spoke with upon walking in, the one I'd never seen before today.

"Give her a second," the other one says, Martinez. He's marginally more patient because he's been running homicide longer, but not by much. Every time I'm asked to come and consult in the morgue he offers me a coffee afterwards, giving me a look that says he wants to be there about as much as I do.

"Body's getting cold," the other one, not-Martinez, says under his breath. "She's gonna waste all the evidence."

"You know she can hear you, right?"

It's barely been five minutes and for the third time I have to resist rolling my eyes or break the imprint and start over.

I hit a patch in the imprint, something Elliot wouldn't want me to see. He didn't consciously block it out, but for being his last memories everything is faded like he wanted to forget.

I'm sprinting up the stairs leading to the office. That barricade at the door won't hold them long, and I need to get--

BAM!

The door flies open behind me but I'm too afraid to turn around. I need to get to the study, it's only a few steps more.

"Oh Elliot," a female voice mocks behind me. "Where ya goin, Ellie?"

Quickly, I need to act quickly. Barricading the door could work, so I start at that, slamming the door to the study shut, my eyes landing on the biggest, nearest object and dragging it over.

"He uh, he was in this room," I say, trying to breathe only through my mouth so I don't inhale Elliot's stench. The burning basil and essential oils only do so much.

"Yes, we know that," the new detective says, and I can practically hear him rolling his eyes.

"He's breathing pretty heavy." I frown, concentrating. Everything becomes blurry, he's blinking a lot, and the whole world shakes.

"I think he's crying," I say as the vision whips wildly back and forth--Elliot is looking for something. My heart flutters in my chest. "He's-- he's really scared."

Elliot's emotions and thoughts slam into me like a train. If he had been more careful, kept his head down, they wouldn't have found him. He wouldn't be running from one of Donahue's pawns in his own damn home. He couldn't escape, there was no point in trying to run. Maybe if he let out Paul it could distract them enough that--no, what the fuck was wrong with him? Paul did nothing wrong, it was him. All of this was his fault.

I nearly fall backwards as something grabs me by the collar and hauls me backwards. Elliot screams, desperately grasping for the hands on his back, before the vision rolls, blurring as he skids across the floor.

"No, please," he breathes out, bringing his arms up as the assailant brings a fist up and knocks it across his face. I can make out the barest of features. This is what the detectives want.

"A half-orc woman. Green skin, dark brown hair."

She punches him again, the sickening crunch of his nose rattling my skull.

"Shouldn't'a left us, Ellie!" Another jab to the face. The image is still blurred, by tears and blood, but he manages to spit a tooth in her face. Good on you, Elliot.

I can only watch as Elliot tries to crawl away and is dragged back by the ankle and tossed into his desk like a dishrag. The vision goes black on impact, immediately followed by the crack of splintering wood. I wince in sympathy. That toss definitely broke some ribs.

Elliot opens his eyes, blurry and blinking against the pain. It's like a slideshow of images, in each photo that half-orc woman moves closer. She kneels in front of Elliot, a hand reaching out to yank him by the hair and drag him across the floor. I hear her voice, muffled like he has earmuffs on, and I hear her cackle. Elliot begs for his life, barely intelligible strings of words born of fear and desperation.

"No please, I'll double," "Make your dreams true," "Please, please, please don't hurt my dog."

Does he remember any magic from school? A basic defense spell, a ward against evil, anything? He raises his hand to cast a defensive spell, and his hand is slammed down against the ground for his effort.

"You thought you could hide?" The boot on his hand grinds it into the ground. "You thought you could escape?"

I feel Elliot's panic rising, acid in the back of my throat. I want to scream, but the boot on my throat cuts off my air.

"No--" He chokes out, begging over and over.

They quickly draw a sigil with their index finger, a sigil I've never seen before. My stomach drops and I feel like I'm falling, the sheer depth of what's about to happen hitting me all at once. I'm going to die. She's going to kill me. I open my mouth to scream, but the woman sends the glyph with the flick of a finger and everything goes black.

I come back to the world with a harsh inhale, grasping at my throat for the--no, that isn't me.

My head is spinning with memories I never experienced, sensations I've never felt. Coming out of soul imprints are always rough, but I've never had whiplash like this. It's hard to separate the vision from reality as the brain tries to consolidate the two.

I squeeze my eyes shut against the headache forming under my temples, and blurt out the first thing that comes to mind.

"Where's Paul?"

The detectives look at each other, then to me. Martinez speaks up, "The dog has been taken to the pound."

The pound?! He'll never survive in--

No, wait. That's Elliot, still in my head.

Okay, deep breath. In, then out. One more. Okay. The moment of silence stretches as I center myself again. I can feel both detectives staring at me, judging me.

When I open my eyes, I'm blinded by the light streaming in through the far window. The early morning sun cuts the room into even thirds, and floods me in a sea of gold. As my eyes adjust gradually to the light, I can make out the desk, nearly split in half.

I relay Elliot's final moments to them, the more I talk the grimmer their faces become. Martinez takes notes as I speak, his heavy brow folding further and further inward as I go.

Of the few cases I've consulted on, none have been a murder case. Memories are fickle things, easily manipulated or just flat out erased. It's why this ritual isn't taken seriously anymore, why it's not admissible in court. The brain is suggestible, temperamental. This assailant could wind up having the face of a dead relative, or transform into Paul the dog, it depends on the victim. But the face I see is the same one I saw in the back of the police car on the way here. The last moments of a soul can vary in presentation, depending on the manner of death, the memory of the passed, and a whole bunch of other things I don't have control over.

As Martinez flips his notebook shut, the two of them share a look and then walk out of the room to talk, leaving me alone.

I stand, averting my gaze from the corpse of my friend, trying to look anywhere else. Elliot knew her, knew this woman, but he never mentioned any half-orc. Was she a vengeful ex, or maybe an old friend? The imprint didn't tell me much, but Elliot wasn't confused by her presence, he knew her from somewhere--but where?

A glint of light catches my eye, right under the desk. Like a bit of exposed metal or a screw. The curious part of my soul wants to pick it up, to have something of Elliot's that I can cherish. The coat is going in the donation pile-- knowing I never returned it will be a boon on my soul.

It's almost completely jammed inside the wood, my nails just long enough to pry it out without breaking any. Upon inspection, the piece isn't a piece at all--it's a button, about the size of a dollar coin. On the face is a sigil, but one that looks corrupted. It's similar to the symbols on Elliot's body, chaotic, with no flow to it. I've never seen it before. There's a splash of blood on one face, dark red and dried. Could it be important? It's small enough to miss on an initial sweep of the premise, and logic dictates that I should give it to the police.

I go to the door, hoping to provide some useful information, when the voices of the two men make me stop.

"Did we really need her here? We have our murderer."

"I don't like it either, but the boss asked for her specifically. When that magic shit actually works it helps a lot, apparently."

"Well it didn't help today. She looked around and told us what we already knew."

"At least we don't have to pay her," the new one says, and Martinez scoffs a laugh.

I scoff under my breath. They think I'm useless? Well, I'm going to find out what this button means--without their help. It slips easily to the bottom of my pocket when the two walk back in and I'm pretending to examine the cracked desk.

"Please don't touch anything," not-Martinez drones. "This is an active crime scene."

I put on my cheeriest face, the one I use when grouchy customers try to call me a hack when my luck charm didn't win them the lottery. "Of course not, detectives. Did you need anything else?"

Martinez offers me a sympathetic expression. "Do you have anything else to tell us?"

For a split moment, I fear my thievery has been discovered. My hand falls to my dress pocket where the button is stored, but neither of the detectives are looking at me accusingly. They're just bored. They're not after me, they want me gone.

"I wish I had more to tell," I confess, gesturing down to Elliot, but still resolutely not looking at him. "He knew the murderer--"

"Alleged," the new one mutters.

"And I don't recognize any of these sigils." I sweep my arm over the circle on his body and the floor. Bright orange, arranged in a circle, the center right where Elliot's head should be.

"Well, thanks for the help," he mutters sarcastically.

"This is a pretty open and shut case," Martinez says, looking down at Elliot. "We have the perp in custody. Think you could magic up a better confession?"

The two of them share a chuckle, and I try not to seem too indignant as I force a smile. I know Martinez isn't being cruel on purpose, he's just a callous guy. I'm glad I don't work with him.

I step out of the room and I feel like I can breathe. There's another room to the right of me, filled with officers. That's Elliot's bedroom. I can walk in there as easy as breathing, I know there's a sliding glass door that leads to a balcony that overlooks the yoga studio across the street. The wheel on the door squeaks when it opens.

Elliot's shop is next to mine, but his home is a few blocks away, about a ten minute walk in the opposite direction. I wonder if the shop is closed, or if his brother Brenan is running it today.

"Lucy!" Alma's voice rings out from the bottom of the stairs. She pushes through her subordinates, flitting over to me on her translucent pink wings. At first she seems excited to see me, but her face falls as she gets closer. "You look like hell."

I rub my arm. I just want to go. "Been a long day."

She reads something in my face, her brows pinching in concern. "Did you know him?"

I can't lie my way out of a paper bag, so I nod.

Alma grimaces. "Shit, I'm sorry. I wouldn't have asked if--"

"It's fine," I say in a rush. "Honestly if I had heard it from somewhere else I would've broken."

She rubs her hands up and down my arms. "If you're sure…"

I swallow past the lump in my throat. "Yeah, yeah."

"Were Martinez and Becker nice?"

I shrug and offer her a smile. "They were just doing their jobs."

She looks past me, and glares. She's a full head shorter than me, nearly my opposite in appearance. Short blonde hair, pale white skin, petite frame and an angular face. We've been friends since grade school, and she always has my back. "I'll talk to them later."

I cringe. "You really don't have to." I'd hate for her to yell at them over me, they were just doing their jobs.

She turns those hard brown eyes to me. "I asked you here for a reason. If they don't respect that, they need an attitude adjustment."

I pull her into my chest in a hug. "Thanks, Alma."

Her tiny hands pat my back reassuringly. "Go home and get some rest. You need a ride?"

"I'll walk." I pull back and Alma eyes me skeptically. "I need the fresh air, promise."

She squeezes my arm. "Call if you need anything, and I'll stop by on Friday."

After another hug, I start down the stairs and out the front door. I don't get very far before I'm stopped by Carlos, another relatively new officer who doesn't look up from his laptop to hand me a business card.

"If you think of anything, give us a call," he drones, and I slip the card, which presumably has his number on it, in my pocket. It's going straight in the garbage.

After another lengthy questioning session, some papers to sign stating my silence on the subject, and more condescending glances I really don't need, I'm finally allowed to step out of Elliot's home and into the street.

A crowd has gathered, just past the barricade setup by the department. Police lights and their bright yellow border spells are like magnets to the general populace. There's a group of reporters with their cameras and flash bulbs, surrounding several officers already trying to get as much information as possible out of them.

I slink by unnoticed, and for that I'm glad. I push through the sparse crowd on the sidewalk and into the freedom of the street. It's a clear day, blue skies, the wind in my hair would be nice on the bike--

No, I don't have a bike.

The street is full of cars, the sidewalk full of pedestrians. Human, fae, fiend, and everything in between crowd around me, commuting to work, or going home, or even just out for a stroll. All of them blithely unaware that just around the corner, on the second floor of the suite, lies a dead man. And the world just keeps turning. It doesn't feel fair.

Categorizing what I need to do in my head is a decent enough distraction. Mrs. Kinoko ordered a long-lasting protective charm for her daughter that's moving at the end of the month, and I can work on that in my lunch. The Dredsy twins need their weekly cleansing water which I have waiting for them in the back room. A gentleman named Leon asked for a bundle of lavender charms for his home to ward of thieves.

I round the corner and nearly stop walking. There's a line outside my shop that reaches the next shop over. I walk past the black marble and darkened windows of Mr. Engstrom's clock repair, also taking the chance to catch a glimpse inside. Nothing, as usual.

I walk to the front door and dissolve the seal keeping the door locked. “Good afternoon everyone, thank you for waiting!”

“You in trouble, hun?” Ms. Garrett asks with a smile. “The cops finally caught ya?”

“You know it,” I reply with a wink, and a few people chuckle.

There's a lot to do, a lot of orders to fill, and I'm jittery. This morning threw me off, toppled my plans. I have charms to make and talismans to saturate. The wards around the shop to notify me of theft are starting to dim so I need to reset those, and the sprigs of lavender growing in my windowsill are starting to sag, so I probably need to water them with extra love. There's just so much to do my head is spinning as everyone outside rushes into my shop.

"Do you have any more of this cream?"

"How about my Polly--you know her, right?--any charms to make her schooling go well?"

"Did you see all the police down the street?"

"Oh yes, I've seen them! Nasty business, that."

Conversation and the buzz of a busy afternoon flows over me like water, I'm so overstimulated that nothing has any meaning anymore. The talk of Elliot feels like a thorn in my side, something I need to square away for later. That's an issue for after the shop has closed, after everyone has gone home and I go upstairs to mourn in silence.

"Here Mrs. Briggs, give three doses to your husband and his arthritis should start to feel better."

"No--! Please don't touch that! It's decoration only!"

"Yes, I'm so sorry about that, let me offer you a refund."

I don't get a chance to think about much of anything. It's all turned into noise, a pleasant fuzz that surrounds my head like a raincloud. By the time the day is over, I'm collapsing into a hot bath and nearly falling asleep in it.

Only when I fold my dress over a chair does that button fall out of my pocket. I pick it up off the floor, examining it in the low light of the room. Taking it to the sink, I scrub the dried blood off, watching it swirl down the sink in a red-brown haze.

The button glows, a soft silver light projecting onto my hand. The corrupted glyph on both faces is apparent, and when I angle it away from my face, I see the glyph almost takes on the image of a face. It's got an angry expression, with horns jutting out from the head and cheeks.

The button catches the light again, reflecting the yellow glow of the room, and reflects onto my hand. Suddenly, the button glows red-hot, the sigil burning into my palm like a brand. I drop the button with a yelp, the smell of burnt skin invading my nose. Rushing to turn on the sink I run my hand under cold water to assuage the pain, and it helps a little, but when I pat my hand dry, in the center of my palm sits that corrupted sigil.

From my bathroom, I grab a salve, rubbing it over the burn mark and leaving the button on the counter. Sigils don't…do that. At least, no sigil I've come across has ever burnt me. Eyeing it from the bathroom like the button will grow legs and charge at me, I step into my room and shut the door. Today has been chaos, absolute chaos, and I don't have time for demonic buttons. I can worry about it tomorrow.

Hand throbbing, I fall into a fitful sleep, hoping tomorrow brings less heartbreak.

Chapter 2 >>

#my writing #witch's gambit #monster writing #terato writing #monster boyfriend #we get to meet weston in the next chapter but for now we're just setting up the plot #i hope you all enjoy this as much as i did writing it #not the beeest intro but i had to split it in half with the second chapter so it wasn't ridiculously long

11 notes · View notes

i2sunric · 3 months ago

Text

𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐋𝐘 (l.hs)

PAIRING: heeseung x reader (f)

SUMMARY: due to a storm, his parents are stuck in a motel for the night while you are stuck at his house. with wi-fi not working, heeseung can’t think of anything better than recreating the scenes of your smutty books.

WARNINGS: established relationship, unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy!), fingering, standing sex (?), missionary, pussy eating, masturbation, dirty talking, blowjob, oral (m and f receiving), rough sex, chocking, i lied about the doggy style, pet names (angel, baby), lmk if more, NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 13th August 2024

WC: 3.7k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey (oneshot) @trizdoniki @love4hee @strayy-kidz @baribaaari @shirizula @astratlantis @jaeyungxrl @heestarry @heeseungismymanz @mitmit01 @rayofsunshineeee @heesexual74 @deezbin @jakeswifez @nikiswifiee @hqqj @diorfmu @isa942572 @yjwluvs @norihoyeon @starggukies @shiningnono @sunpov @iamliacamila @strawberrhypen @gnvi-eve @wildflowermooon @kaykay11sworld @erenswifesposts @star-hoon @aubaee @lvnglysunoo @heebear @enhypenlovre BOLDS COULD NOT BE TAGGED.

a/n: honestly the intro sucks and so does the outro but i swear the smut is GOOD. literally 3k words of filthy porn ngl. enjoy lol. please LIKE & REBLOG to spread and let me knows your thoughts 💗

What was supposed to be a cozy Thursday night ended up in you being forced to stay at Heeseung’s house for the night.

Forced? Not really, you enjoyed the excuse of spending more time with your boyfriend. Because of a flooding caused by the storm outside, you weren’t able to go back home.

But neither were his parents, who were supposed to have a nice date and ended up being blocked by the horrible weather.

The sound of the raindrops tapping against the window filled the room as Heeseung turned off the shower.

You were laying on his bed with your back to the wall as you peacefully read your book, thankful that your sixth sense made you bring it.

Heeseung entered the room with only a towel wrapped around his waist while he used another to dry his damp hair.

“Reading still?” He asked, nudging the book with toe. “Ew.” You stated, pushing his foot away “And yes.”

Heeseung just chuckled and moved to get his clothes from the drawer “Heard from your parents?”

He hummed “I called them before showering, they said they’ll stay at a motel,” He put his boxers on “But before they could say more, the line cut off.”

You threw a glance at the window “This storm is going to destroy a lot of things.”

Heeseung struggled to put on shorts and then rounded the bed, the mattress lowering where his weight was.

“I bet they’re having some wild sex right now.” You joked, flipping another page of your book.

Heeseung pinched your side “Ew? I don’t really want to think about my parents going at it.” He laughed, laying down beside you.

“Careful, you might have a brother soon.” You joked again, earning another gentle pinch.

A couple of minutes passed by and Heeseung groaned “Wi-fi doesn’t work.” He threw his phone at the end of the bed. “I can’t play games.”

“Poor you.” You cooed, caressing the hand he had placed on your hip, his chest pressed against your back.

“Can’t you put your book down and give me attention?” You could hear the pout in his voice “No boy, I’m at an important point.”

“Evil.” Heeseung murmured as he settled into a more comfortable position, strangely not going anywhere to do something else.

You felt his hand on your side, relaxed as well as his breath even. ‘He must’ve fallen asleep’, You thought, as you flipped another page of your book, unable to stop your eyes from reading the scene unfolding before you.

If Heeseung was to casually open his eyes and read even one line of the chapter, he would certainly make fun of you.

Who even reads smut in their boyfriend’s bed?

You felt his hand flex on your stomach but you didn't really mind, he would always move uncontrollably when asleep— sometimes, even kicking you.

As your mind proceeded the words written down on paper, your body reacted to it, almost unconsciously.

You could feel your core pulse in need, your body temperature raising and at the same time goosebumps appeared on your skin.

It always happened, you couldn’t help the way your imagination wandered with the characters of the book, the tension and the way they cared for each other. It was all too tempting, you could feel your stomach fill with butterflies.

But your boyfriend was sleeping and you didn’t want to disturb him, knowing he already had troubles falling asleep — the reason why he always stayed up late to play games —, so you kept quiet.

You felt Heeseung shift behind you, the hand on your stomach circling your waist until he was able to pull you against his chest, his breath hot against your ear.

You held your breath as he changed position, not making any sudden movement while he used you like you were a teddy bear.

Gulping down, you waited a few beats before focusing your attention back on the chapter.

It’s not like you and Heeseung had never gone further than third base, but it was always so… vanilla.

You longed for someone to use you for your own pleasure, to talk you through your multiple orgasms, to mark you up and manhandle you like a doll.

But you would never have the courage to confess that to Heeseung.

Yes, you two had been together for almost a year and half though you weren’t ready to open up to your contorted fantasies. Afraid that he may run away, you loved him too much for that.

So, you hid in your imagination, burying your nose in books that filled the void inside of you.

Letting out a quiet sigh, you tried to calm the fire igniting your bones, but your hips shifted uncomfortably, the ache between your legs too strong to be ignored.

Suddenly, Heeseung spoke to your ear, voice low and husky “You want to show me too?” You jolted and closed the book, catching your finger in middle, hissing at the pain.

You turned your face around and caught his gaze, something different inside it. Something primal.

“I-I thought you were sleeping.” You said, blinking faintly and Heeseung smirked, “I was reading with you.”

He reached the book from your hand and like a fool, you let him take it. He opened the page where you had left your finger in and cleared his throat “He looked at her with a strange urge, his attention gliding to her face,” He started reading.

“His voice was low when he said ‘Show me, show me how you touch yourself when you’re alone in the middle of the night’.”

The heat that was once in your stomach moved to your cheeks, embarrassment coating your expression.

“It’s just a chapter, I was skipping it.” You tried to reach back for your book but he held it up, sitting “Ah, lying is bad, Y/N.”

Heeseung’s smirk was cocky “You seemed pretty into it.” You scoffed, “Give it back.”

Your boyfriend was clearly enjoying it, the way you blushed and the flustered look on your face. He licked his bottom lip and eyed you up and down.

Only when you lowered your gaze, unable to meet his, did you notice the hard-on he was sporting. Was he enjoying it the same way you were?

“There’s no wi-fi.” He stated, “And my parents aren’t home, don’t you think we should occupy our time?”

This side of him was something you had never seen, perhaps, had he the same hidden likings as yours? Looked like you were about to find out.

“How?” You asked, your voice hoarse, barely yours. Heeseung glanced back at the page and said “Take off your shorts.”

Your breath hitched in your throat, “W-What?” And he just chuckled darkly “Do you think I didn’t notice your body language, mh? Do you think I didn’t see how you were craving… this?” He raised the book.

“Now, take off your shorts or I’ll have to do it myself.” Normally, you would comply, but you were feeling bold, adrenaline shooting in your veins, so you said instead, “Make me.”

His eyes darkened, his brow raised. He placed the book on the bed and crawled towards you as you backed away until your back hit the headboard.

He kept eye contact while his fingers hooked around your shorts, and instead of his usual slow pace, he yanked them off.

You gasped at the sudden force, soon enough your shorts were laying on the floor “Isn’t this what you want?” He questioned.

“You want someone to dominate you, uh? To show you what’s your place?” Your whole body shivered from his words as you mindlessly nodded.

“All this time I’ve been gentle, afraid to make you uncomfortable,” He gripped your panties “But all you wanted was to be fucked, hard, isn’t it?” He ripped them off you, the sound of fabric stretching making you gasp again.

He smirked and threw the messy fabric on the floor, with your shorts “So, I’ll follow what you like.” He pointed at the book resting on the duvet “Play with yourself.”

You widened your eyes. Heeseung’s behaviour was different from his usual one, though you couldn’t say you didn’t like it. Lord, you were drenched just from his words and he could see it, the way your juices coated your pussy, spread in front of him.

You gulped and slowly moved your hand down, reaching your clit which you started circling.

A soft hum escaped your lips at the sweet feeling and you watched him, his gaze so primal and full of lust as he took in the sight of you touching yourself.

Just a few beats passed before he asked “You know what she does now, right?” And you nodded, lifting your hand up to his lips. He hummed and took them inside his mouth, his warm tongue twirling around your digits.

The taste of you, even if it was just brief, was enough to make his head spin, so delicious and intoxicating.

You removed them “Let me watch while you fuck yourself.” He said and was suddenly aware of your position. Of how open you were in front of him, your folds clenching around nothing.

Heeseung raised an impatient brow and you hurried to coat your fingers in your juices, rubbing them against your entrance before thrusting one inside.

You moaned, your fingers brushing against your g-spot right away, given all the times you’d done this.

Heeseung licked his bottom lip, the taste of you still lingering in his mouth, on his tongue. He could feel his shorts grow tighter by the minute, his desire for you overtaking any rational thought.

“One more baby, I know you can take it.” He urged and you complied, adding a second digit to your ministration.

Heeseung let out a groan, his eyes locked on you as you brought pleasure to yourself. He quickly took the book back in his hands and flicked the page, a wicked smile on his lips.

“Yeah, bet you’ll like this.” He said as he pushed himself down the bed and took you by the back of your thighs, tilting your body until it was pending at the edge of the bed.

You stopped your movements and pulled your fingers out with a ‘POP’ sound, resting on your elbows to look down at him “Hee?”

“Don’t worry, angel.” He pried your legs open, his breath fanning on your cunt, making you squeeze your eyes “Just need to taste your sweet pussy.”

And then you felt it, the swipe of his tongue across your folds, your mind clouding from the pleasure as soft gasps escaped your lips.

Heeseung ate you like a starved man, alternating sucking on your clit and fucking you with his tongue, his strong grip prevented you from squirming around.

You rocked your hips against his mouth, needing to chase the pleasure building inside your lower belly.

You reached a hand and placed it on his head, your fingers tangling in his locks, “Mh, that’s it, angel.” He murmured, “Fuck my tongue.”

And so you followed his orders, moving with deep and slow thrusts, just enough to send jolts of pleasure through your jody as Heeseung stuck his warm tongue inside of you.

Soon, your movements grew sloppier and faster, your lips parted “I’m— I’m gonna—“ And before you could even finish your sentence, your orgasm hit you, making your back arch off the bed, your legs shaking.

“This was so hot, baby.” Heeseung pressed a few more kitten licks on your clit before raising himself, caressing your thighs with his thumbs.

You looked up at him, your breath still uneven from the great amount of pleasure he had put you in.

He gave you a small smirk before reaching behind you and taking your forgotten book back. He flipped the pages “Spoiler, she gives him a BJ.” He said.

You chuckled, your body now recovered as you sat up “And you don’t want it?” You batted your eyelashes.

Heeseung took a steady breath. “Don’t tempt me.” He quickly searched further one the book, scanning lines and as he found something he liked, he pointed at it, a small laugh escaping his lips.

“As much as I love feeling your mouth around me, I want to feel you whole.” He murmured.

You sat up, crawling towards him to the edge of the bed “Maybe I want to.”

His breath caught in his throat, your vicinity and your words going straight to his cock “The way she does.”

Heeseung went back to the chapter where it all started, scanning the lines until he read “After making her see stars, he quickly unbuttoned his jeans, his gaze dangerous. ‘Your moans were so sweet, darling.’ He murmured, lowering his jeans and boxers, his cock sprung free.” He paused to gulp.

“He took the back of her head and moved her ‘till her neck bent in an awkward position, his red tip brushing against her lips.” He lowered the book.

“Is this how you want it? Rough?” Heeseung questioned and you nodded “Might as well follow the script.” You shrugged.

A low groan built in his throat, you tugged the hem of his shirt “This off?” Your eyes glistened with fake innocence.

Heeseung swiftly worked his shirt off, throwing it on the floor. It’s not like you had never seen him without a shirt on, you were used to him during beach dates or pool parties, but it was always so breathtaking.

Heeseung smirked, noticing the way your hungry stare was studying his chest. In the blink of an eye his shorts joined his shirt, his cock hard and angry, some pre-cum smeared over the tip.

“Be a good girl and open up for me,” He murmured as he climbed on the bed, his hand clutching the headboard to keep himself steady.

You quickly laid down, his hips hovering on your face. You looked up at him, doe-eyes looking ever so pure… And then you took him all in your mouth.

Heeseung threw his head back at the feeling of your tongue swirling around his cock, your head bobbing back and forth.

“Fuck,” He breathed out, his eyes meeting yours “So good, always so good.”

He caressed your cheek, his thumb grazing gently your skin as his hips bucked, meeting your pace.

He then pulled out, making you frown which was soon transformed when his lips met yours.

You could feel his cock twitching between your breasts, one of his hands squeezing it as his lips claimed yours.

The kiss was sloppy and messy, both of your tongues moving together, his spit down your throat.

He was delaying his orgasm, you noted, because he would’ve cum just from a few licks of yours.

And then he pulled his lips away from yours to thrust his throbbing length inside your mouth again “Mh… Yes— Shit. You’re so good, angel. Mouth made just for me.” He praised as he moved.

You hummed, sending waves of pleasure all through his body.

You gripped his thighs, bobbing your head faster, desperate to bring him the pleasure he deserved.

Heeseung understood and gripped the headboard with both of his hands, his hips thrusting inside of your warm and wet mouth. He hit the back of your throat, making you gag “I’m so close.” He breathed out.

At his words, you ignored the burning sensation building in your throat and hollowed your cheeks, with a few more thrusts he was emptying himself with a groan.

When he pulled out, you licked any drop of cum that spilled out your mouth and hummed happily.

Heeseung chuckled, leaning down again to capture your lips in a messy but loving kiss.

You playfully bit his bottom lip and he pulled away, yelping “Brat.”

You smiled at him and sat up, your voice just briefly hoarse “What happens next?”

Heeseung’s gaze darkened but his words were serious “You sure you want to continue?” He sighed softly, “Baby, I don’t want to hurt you.”

You smiled reassuringly and beckoned to the book “Time to change chapter.”

Heeseung let out a quiet groan, his cock visibly twitching “He fucks her against the wall.” He narrated what he had read “Hard, hand around her throat… is that what you want?”

Just the idea of doing it that way had you drenched down there, a shiver ran along your spine “Yes, Hee.” You breathed out, and to emphasise you add “I need it.”

“My nasty girl.” He practically growled as he got up from the bed, taking you with him and slammed you against the wall of his bedroom.

You yelped when your back hit the cold surface, the tapping of the raindrops on the window your background music.

Heeseung claimed your lips again as one of his hands snuck to squeeze your backside, his fingers kneading it.

You could again feel his hard cock pressing against your stomach, its warmth infecting your core.

“I’ve always wanted to fuck you,” He whispered on you throat “To have you milk my cock as I take you so hard you can’t say a coherent word.”

You rocked your hips against his, a clear effect of his words, your arms wrapped around his neck.

As if you weighed nothing, he raised you and you wrapped your legs around his sculpted waist.

Without any warning except for the aligning of his cock, he slammed deep inside of you, making you moan out.

Heeseung wasn’t the biggest cock you’ve seen, but he surely was the longest. You could feel him so deep, he could probably even reach your stomach if he tried hard enough.

You gripped the back of his neck like your life depended on it as he moved without any mercy, pulling all the way out until the tip just to slam back in, knocking the air out of your lungs.

He snuck one hand between your breasts and reached your throat, wrapping it around it. He gripped, not enough to choke you but good enough to make you light-headed.

His cock pounded hard into you, driving your brain into nothing but a puddle of his name, the one you screamed and moaned.

Your nails dug into his shoulders and he grunted, rewarding you with a deeper thrust, one you can almost feel in your centre, where the familiar knot was tightening.

Your eyes rolled back, just moans and whimpers escaping your lips.

Heeseung removed the hand from your throat and gripped your neck instead, letting your lungs that were screaming in protest fill with air up to their capacity.

He moved so your forehead pressed against his, both of you panting in each other’s mouth, your pussy clenching around him.

He groaned, he put one of his hands on the wall to steady himself as his hips kept bucking fast on yours, the sound of skin slapping mixing up with the rain’s.

“Is this what you like, baby?” Heeseung asked, moving his face to gently nip on your neck.

Your whole body felt sensitive from the attention he was giving it, from his small hickeys to the way he kept hitting your sweet spot “Y-yes.” You croaked out “Feels s’good, fuck.”

Heeseung grinned and stilled, twitching inside of you with a groan.

Before you could even comprehend it, he had you with your back on the mattress, never pulling out of you.

Your legs spread open, eager to feel him in you, to let him claim him.

“Fuck,” He grunted out, his pace never once faltering as he gripped your thighs to help himself, surely there would be marks the next day “Feels like heaven inside of you.”

You answered with a muffled whimper, not sure if your brain could even form out a word anymore.

He leaned on you, chest pressed against chest as he hid his face in the crook of his neck, his hot breath hitting your skin.

You rolled your eyes back, the pleasure building inside of you almost unbearable “Hee..” You breathed out, gripping his forearm to warn him where words couldn’t reach.

“I know,” He murmured, “Me too, baby…”

You cried out as you tried to delay your orgasm the same way he could do, but the pleasure was too much and before you could even try to resist more, you saw white.

Your back arched off the bed and squirmed around, your walls clenching tight around Heeseung who, despite your state, never stopped thrusting.

“Shit— Where do you want it?” He asked, because it was in some ways a first timer. First time going rough, first time going raw.

You couldn’t find your voice, your eyes watery from the impact of your orgasm, so you wrapped your legs around his waist, trapping him.

He frowned “Are you— Fuck.” You felt his cum filling you up to the brim, the sensation so sweet a gasp left your lips as he rocked slowly, adrenaline lowering.

After a couple of minutes where neither of you had the energy to move, Heeseung raised himself and offered you a warm smile “How was it?” He questioned as he stood up.

The sight of you, sprawled on his bed with both your seeds running down your thighs was enough to make him pop another boner, which earned him a side eye from you.

“Don’t worry, baby.” Heeseung chuckled, opening one of the drawers to retrieve one of his shirts and helping you in it. He then carefully cleaned you up, dried the sweat running down your forehead and after putting back on his shorts and underwear, he laid beside you.

One of his arms snuck around your shoulder, he placed a gentle kiss on your forehead “You’ll have to go commando, since I ripped your panties.” You giggled, hugging him tighter.

“I really enjoyed… this.” Heeseung smirked, “I bet.” He glanced at the book, now resting on the bedside table “Come to me when you start another book, yeah?”

Heeseung absentmindedly squeezed your breast through the shirt “I’ll make sure to recreate it all… even may steal some of the lines.”

Content that he wasn’t going to judge you for your strange likings, rather supporting them, you let yourself be held as the storm outside slowly died, the breeze hitting your skin as you fell asleep, safe in his arms.

2K notes · View notes