#him and his stupid bleeding heart for everyone but himself :(( | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

enhypencores · 5 months ago

Text

Bleed Me Dry Pt II

READ PART 1 HERE

Lee Heeseung X Y/N

Genre: Yandere Romance/ Thriller/ Stalker

Prompt: "If I carve you into my blood, will you believe my love?"

Word Count: 11K+

WARNING⚠️: Explicit content, profanity, sexual harassment, heated make outs, female stereotyping, use of a derogatory word, violence, lots of blood, aggression, toxic masculinity, yandere, manipulation, mentions of self exit, drugs, unhealthy relationships and mental health issues. Y/N described with long hair and brown eyes.

Cameos: Jake, Jay, Sunghoon, Sunoo, Yeji, Karina, Jaemin and Jisung

A/N: Please read the warnings carefully before proceeding. There's heavy discussions and complex character dynamics. None of it is healthy. This is a work of fiction, please read it as such. If I missed out any, lemme know.

PS: I’d love to hear your feedback <3

Heeseung had gathered some crucial knowledge from a heavily drunk Jake.

“Intelligent and tall. She’s got a thing for them… She had this crush on a dude in the first semester. Told her he was a jerk, didn’t listen, and you know… he broke her heart. His name? Think it was park jeong guk? jeong woo? I don’t know… It was just some guy. She’s stupid…”

He had wanted to punch that knowing look off Jake’s face as he insulted you, but Heeseung tried swallowing down the surging fury.

Because, indeed, you were so stupid. Why had you allowed some loser into your life? When Heeseung gets you, he will make sure to treasure every part of you. He wouldn’t need anyone else. He would use his every breath to cherish you, only you.

Despite the hostility he felt upon hearing of your previous crush, the good news was that Heeseung unintentionally matched the description. He had never been so grateful for his genes until this moment; traits he once considered useless suddenly becoming his most prized.

Heeseung bore a good height, and his mind was like a computer program. At just ten years old, his father had assumed he’d discover the cure for cancer—yet to come true, but everyone in college believed if anyone could do it, it was Lee Heeseung.

A special one, born to lead, a saviour, they claimed. But Heeseung never wanted to be his father’s golden child. He didn’t want to contribute to society or garner the world’s praise. He barely had friends—except for Kim Sunoo, Heeseung’s childhood partner in crime.

To the world, Heeseung was an overachiever, but he knew his excellence was merely a distraction from his twisted mind. His father was the first to notice the disconnect.

Heeseung chose medicine on a whim, a flick of a coin—heads or tails. The boredom in his life drove him to try everything: paragliding, boxing, swimming, drugs and unrestrained, animalistic sex. He had lived countless lives in two decades.

Early teenage years, his father took it upon himself to train his son, instilling social norms and enforcing strict rules as he tried moulding Heeseung into someone 'normal.' Like a dog on a leash, he made Heeseung more human while maintaining a safe distance to avoid getting scratched. Heeseung understood this from the moment he gained consciousness: his father was scared of him. Terrified.

He never discovered what exactly made his father lock his door every night, but whatever it was, it confirmed a small suspicion: Heeseung was unlovable.

It wasn’t anything detrimental really, because Heeseung never felt the need to seek love. Even in psychological terms, a human's absolute necessities were food, shelter, sex, and safety. When he could survive on the bare minimum, why should he look for something as wasteful as love? He'd rather spend time gaming and pretending to outshine the world’s brilliant minds.

Now, Heeseung was tired of the boredom. So tired that he thought to end it. How long could one treck through an aimless journey?

The realisation that he could cease to exist and no one would know his whereabouts made him feel somewhat better. The taste of death brought him immense curiosity. Would he turn to dust and ashes? Would he be forgotten in memories?

He didn’t think anyone would remember him. To his father, he was a trophy; to his friends, a competition; and to outsiders, a freak. His loss would merely be a statistic: a decline in Korea’s population digits, a decrease in the number of distinction holders in the country, and one less student in Seoul University’s register.

That’s what he thought.

Until he came across you.

You, with your brown eyes, small frame, your liveliness and your beauty.

It was a rainy day in Seoul when he was walking past the bus stand after wrecking his father’s beloved car in a deliberate crash. Unfortunately, he made it out unscathed, only injuring the vehicle. Maybe Heeseung had been born with a shit ton of luck, destined to waste it away.

Regardless, thanks to that golden tub of luck, he was able to land his gaze on you. Heeseung unintentionally remembered countless formulae and research, but the one thing he intended to remember—fucking forced himself to perfectly encode in his memory—was the way you looked that day.

Brown hair slightly wet, sticking to your jawline, knitted brows, and wide eyes staring up at the sky in vengeful retaliation. Heeseung stopped in his tracks.

He had never seen an angel angry.

You dialled a number on your mobile and spoke calmly into your phone.

“The bus is running late. Pick me up.” He remembered a sulking pout on your lips.

“It’s raining! I don’t even have an umbrella. You want me to walk?” He remembered incredulous horror written across your features, lips frowning at the caller’s words.

“Fine... Please! There, I said it, now come quick.” He remembered you rolling your eyes, biting your lip and clenching your bag’s strap tighter.

The phone call ended, and you folded your arms over your chest, letting the damp material cling to your bust, detailing the line of your bra as you tapped your foot on the drenched footpath, staring ahead in longing.

That day, an inactive section of his brain burst out with life, that’s all he could theorise. He wanted to devour you, grope your drenched body, kiss your red mouth, force his fingers into your most sensitive tissues and consume your cries.

He wanted to destroy the person on that call with you, bury them within the earth’s deepest pits so they’d never return to you. He wanted the earth to swallow you and him together, so he could hide you away and savour this moment. He wanted to be the only existence to remember you, here, standing at the bus stop, waiting for a ride home.

Why were you here alone anyway? Who was coming?

Heeseung wanted to shadow you from the rain. If he was a part of your life, he’d chase away all the buses—let alone make you wait for one to pick you up. He would stand drenched in the rain if it meant your ass would only meet the covers of his seat.

A booming motion of the car made your eyes light up. Heeseung’s chest knotted up, a foreign emotion bubbling in his throat as a blonde braked his car before you. You hurried to climb into the passenger’s seat, and then he drove away. Just like that.

He hadn’t hurt someone so far in this life, but the urge to drive a car into the blonde grew tenaciously strong. He had never felt such hatred and venom consume his being. The thought of you getting into that car, going away to share a life Heeseung wasn’t a part of left a gnawing anger in his chest.

His heart which hadn’t felt something in so long suddenly felt alive, riveting with twisted emotions. Heeseung didn’t want to live, but suddenly he didn’t want to die either. He didn’t wish to be remembered, but suddenly he wanted at least one person to remember.

That day he came to a staggering conclusion: Heeseung was unfit to be loved, but he wasn’t unfit to love.

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

Peak hours on a Monday afternoon started early. Waitresses ambled from one table to another, carrying orders as the room bustled with young college students, conversing and gossiping while awaiting their snacks. The rich essence of chocolate and coffee beans filled the air, stirring hunger among individuals working alone with their noses in laptops and textbooks.

Heeseung’s lips curved in a knowing smile: if you were here, you’d be one of those unaccompanied goody two shoes, sipping on a chocolate milkshake, jotting things down in your notebook. He pictured your brows scrunched as you wrapped your beautiful lips around the straw, gulping long sips and pulling away with a content smile.

“Baby, can’t we go somewhere more private?”

His jaw tightened, aggravated at the shrill interruption. He feigned a smile, his gaze falling back on the red-haired bimbo who stared at him like he was the answer to her every prayer.

Heeseung grabbed a fork, scooping up a bite of strawberry cheesecake before filling his mouth. His stomach fluttered as he revelled in the sweet texture. Ever since stealing those kisses, he couldn’t stop craving sweet treats. He even bought some candies on his way home that morning, already feeling the withdrawals kicking in.

“But how’ll we do this—in private?”

The girl stared in confusion before she was yanked into his embrace, his warm lips slamming into hers, kissing her aggressively, the sweet creaminess from the cake transferring into her mouth. She moaned, licking his lips incessantly, begging for entrance, but Heeseung dismissed her attempts, his brows furrowed in annoyance.

Nervously, the red-haired girl slid her chair closer, biting her lip as she observed the underwhelmed expression on his face.

“What’s wrong? Are you mad at me?” She sulked, sucking at her teeth, staring up with concern.

Heeseung shook his head and pulled her into his lap. “Did you do something to make me mad?” He mumbled, rubbing his nose down her neck, peppering small kisses to distract her from his response.

“Ah—n-no! I didn’t,” she gasped, her concern melting away already, her head tilting back as Heeseung planted kisses down her collarbone.

“Shouldn’t you be at uni right now?” He abruptly changed the topic, portraying the perfectly caring boyfriend who gave a shit about her life.

“Yeah, but I’ll ask a friend for the class notes,” she mustered up, her breath laborious as Heeseung ran his hand down her thigh, his kisses growing feistier against her exposed neck.

“Hm, are you that smart?” He pressed on, his patience running out. “Thought I’d fucked you dumb already,” he whispered repulsive words, his hand covering her thighs as the girl tightened in his hold, her lips pressed together to silence any sound, cautious of their surroundings.

Heeseung’s gaze changed, a menacing darkness flashing through. “Smart bitches,” he began, his words blunt and aggressive. “Fucking hate them. Running their big mouths all the damn time,” he declared, his bitter tone making her knees quiver in arousal.

“Tell me, baby, you’re not one of those, are you?” He urged.

One way to access a woman’s weaknesses was to put her up against another.

The girl whose name he had forgotten the second she uttered it, shook her head with desperation. Had he asked her to admit to murder, she would have agreed.

“No!” She yelped, alarmed at his lack of interest. “I’m so dumb. Barely passing this degree,” she confessed, her voice cracking as she spread her knees for his attention.

“Hm—really?” He mocked, and she nodded, her body pleading for his approval. “But your course is so tough. You must be so smart.” Heeseung’s tone dripped with sarcasm, his frown hinting at his displeasure.

The girl choked; her breaths alarmingly rapid as Heeseung’s fingers trailed closer to her clothed centre. “But not me—there’s some smart girls in my class. I—I’m not like them, Hee,” she rambled, her eyes screwing shut.

“Smart girls like—yourself?” He threw the bait, challenging her, and she immediately shook her head, her body jolting as Heeseung flicked his fingers against her centre.

“Not me—not me. This other girl—Ah!” She bit her tongue, her body trembling as Heeseung drew faint circles against her clit. “There’s—Y/N!”

Bingo.

“She’s like the smartest—oh!”

Heeseung halted his movement, his teeth gritting in frustration, anger bubbling up his throat as the girl kept moaning into her words, prolonging this ordeal. He hadn’t spent the last three days coercing a second-year pharmacology student from your college to serenade and romance. He wanted information.

The girl’s arched frame twisted at the sudden lack of touch, her wet gaze darting to Heeseung’s in urgency.

“Speak,” he commanded bluntly, his usual sugar-coated tone gone along with his smile.

The girl’s expression faltered, her blood turning cold. “Uh—there’s this girl—she’s really smart, always acing her exams,” she responded reluctantly, her insecure gaze attempting to read his intentions.

Heeseung’s hand slid back down to her leaking centre, his movement more vigorous as he wrapped his lips on her earlobe. “You’re so hot like this—like a dumb bitch for me,” he drawled, sucking her sensitive flesh.

His sudden shift in demeanour seemed like a hallucination, his voice now intentionally low and sultry. “You wouldn’t want to be like Y/N, hm? You’re my good girl.”

The girl was a goner. Her head dropped back onto his shoulder, her eyes shut, and her body trembling from his touch, his previous indifference a distant memory.

“Yeah—I am—so—so dumb for you,” she babbled nonsensically. Heeseung’s flicks quickened.

“That bitch—she’s so smart and talks too much, probably why no one likes her. Such a loser— I don’t know why Park Jongseong’s crazy for her.”

Heeseung’s arm faltered, his body freezing.

The girl, lost in the throes of her arousal, ignored it, urgently pressing her hand down to maintain the pressure. “She’s so full of herself. Bet she’s as virgin as a nun—but maybe—she finally let poor Jongseong have a go, who kno—Ah!”

Heeseung yanked her hair back, his clenched fist tightening and ripping a few strands. His gaze was predatory, chest heaving as he stared down at the horrified girl.

“I’ll rip that tongue out, sweetheart,” he hissed, his venomous tone cutting through and gripping her heart with horror.

The sickening words replayed like a broken record. A searing sting flared inside his chest, his jaw tightening as he thought of that name: Park Jongseong.

Of course, it was the guy from the photos—it fit him perfectly. His arrogant, self-righteous demeanour, that overly exaggerated smile on his face as he held you. It had to be him.

The imagery the stupid girl on his lap painted, her words dripping with malice for his Y/N; everything began to suffocate his lungs.

Heeseung stared down, his hand still gripping her locks as she looked at him with disbelief.

As he released his grip, she winced, her eyes wet with tears.

Heeseung wrapped an arm around her waist like a shackle, holding her captive as he leaned forward and picked up the steaming hot coffee she had ordered. She flinched as he pushed the cup to her lips.

“Drink.”

The girl stared at him like he had grown two heads.

“It’s too hot—”

“Leave one sip behind, and you’ll wish you had listened.”

Her heart raced, body turning cold. Heeseung’s chilling gaze and crooked smile were laced with demonic intent, making her stomach churn. She had never felt her organs shrivel with just the sight of a man’s empty gaze.

She realised at that very moment. She had to obey or else… she didn’t even want to consider what could happen.

She took the heated cup, gulping down her spit to ease the pressure in her throat.

Then she clung to the cup and downed the entire thing. The first rush of liquid scalded the roof of her mouth. Burns trailed down her tongue, to her throat, buzzing all the way into her stomach. Bloody broils flared up, her muscles jolting in agony as pain overwhelmed her cognition. With an excruciating sob, she dropped the empty cup, shattering it on the ground as she tried screaming for help.

The busy café didn’t seem to notice anything but the shatter, rolling their eyes at the couple’s antics before continuing with their own endeavours.

Heeseung patted her head, smiling in satisfaction. “That’s my good girl.”

The sobbing girl tore herself from his lap. Standing on quivering limbs, she scrambled to grab her purse and dashed towards the exit.

To Heeseung’s delight, the red-haired bimbo wasn’t so useless after all. He now had a name: Park Jongseong.

Grabbing his phone, Heeseung dialled a number.

“Sim, for your birthday, let’s plan something crazy.”

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

The homeroom buzzed with chatter as students scattered to join their friends at the end of the lecture. While most were preparing to head home, you had to stay back for the weekly council meeting. With your head slack on the table, you shut your eyes and let out an irked groan, wishing you could abandon all your duties and just scramble home.

“Y/N, just resign already. You’re too exhausted,” Yeji, your best friend, called out, rolling her eyes as she zipped up her tote bag.

You groaned again, slamming your head against the table. “You have no idea how badly I want to take your stupid advice,” you whined, rubbing your temples in pain.

Yeji, her pink hair perfectly styled, retouched her lip gloss and eyed your sulking frame. “You take on too much for no reason,” she sighed, finishing her touch-up and patting your head.

“Can’t you loosen up? Look at me, we have finals coming up, and I’m off clubbing with Jaemin,” she gloated, her smile widening at the thought of her boyfriend.

Getting into the world’s best university on an eighty per cent scholarship was tough, but no one prepared you for the strenuous part: upholding those perks. Paired with a demanding course load, extracurriculars and volunteer work felt like a constant nuisance.

“I wish…” you muttered.

Knowing her best friend’s upright nature, Yeji shook her head in defeat.

“Besides that, I’ll be having fun soon,” you iterated, and Yeji instantly grew alert, her eyes wide with anticipation.

“You’re getting a boyfriend?” She gasped, grabbing your shoulders to turn you towards her in excitement.

“No!” You dismissed, and Yeji’s excitement died as soon as it began, releasing your shoulders in frustration.

“At this point, I strongly believe you wish to die a virgin,” she remarked, running her fingers through her dark strands, her gaze cold. “You even rejected Jongseong,” Yeji huffed.

You winced.

It had been three months since you had been hit by a truck of feelings from the raven-haired boy. Three months of discomfort and pain.

You were introduced to your senior, Park Jongseong, as a good friend of Na Jaemin. The two friend groups had merged, and soon the initial trio—Yeji, Ji-min, and you—grew an acquaintanceship with their group: Jay, Jaemin, and Jisung.

Since you had been to an all-girls school, the first few months of interactions were painstakingly awkward. You felt like an outsider even in a room full of familiar people.

You envied your best friends Yeji and Ji-min for their effortless socialisation skills. Whilst they enjoyed trips and study sessions with the guys, you drew a line, only speaking when spoken to.

In the first year, you were constantly running away from this new world of discomfort. Jay, however, refused to draw a barrier. Like the definition of a headstrong man, he never gave up. Gestures like stopping you in the hallways to talk about his hobbies and inviting you to all his parties showed you that Jay was making a real effort at friendship.

All of it came tumbling down when he confessed to you. The friendship you treasured faded, and you both became strangers again.

“Don’t bring him up,” you gritted, your heart plummeting as you remembered all the distant memories.

You recalled that nightmarish day. You might take this to your grave but Park Jongseong was your first crush. You secretly liked him throughout the farce of friendship.

He held your bag after class, joined extracurriculars like the music society and learned amazing guitar skills. He took you shopping to destress after you failed your lab assessment and played silly nursery rhymes on his guitar to make you laugh. Everything was special until the last day of the second semester.

Jay had asked you to a movie, and as always, you assumed he meant everyone in the friend group, so you called Yeji and Ji-min along.

The moment he saw you walk in with the girls, his expression fell with dismay. Instead of speaking to you about it, he handed the popcorn to your friends and left.

You followed him instantly, but maybe you shouldn’t have.

“Jay!” You chased after him, your heels thudding against the pavement, confusion painted on your features.

He paused in his tracks and turned, his eyes darkening.

“What’s wrong?”

Instead of responding, Jay’s gaze narrowed, a strained chuckle leaving his mouth. “Don’t act dumb now,” he rasped, his voice bitter.

You opened your mouth to question him, but he suddenly stepped close, his towering frame making your insides queasy.

“It’s always the same with you. How long will you pretend?” Jay’s voice trembled with accusation.

“Do you not see me? Chasing after you like a fucking loser. I’ve spent months trying to figure you out. Stop this game of hide and seek!” He roared, tightening his hold on your shoulders as he stared down at you like a wounded wolf.

You felt so wronged and hurt, your throat clogging up with emotions.

Because Jay was right. You were playing dumb, looking past his feelings, ignoring your own to hide away. Your insecurities and fear of disappointment were louder than his words, ringing in your head like tinnitus.

Because you had always assumed someone as rich and well-put-together as Park Jongseong didn’t need to like a mediocre girl on a scholarship.

You felt that breaking his heart might save his friendship, might save you from the pain of losing his love. So you wanted to sever all chances before you even tasted his love.

“What’re you talking about?”

“Tell me, Y/N. Have you ever once liked me?” He questioned, his gaze softening as he held your face in his hands, his pupils trembling with need.

Yes.

Yes!

“No.”

His arms dropped, his gaze dull and empty as he stared into your tearful eyes.

“We’re good friends, Jay. Look, we don’t have to rush into anything—”

You felt chills run down your spine as he cut off your words, his tone sharp and damaging.

“Delete my number. Don’t ever come see me.”

“And if I ever accidentally find my way back to you, slap me awake like this again.”

He tore his arm from your grip and you two never spoke again.

And then a week later, he started dating your friend Ji-min.

“Y/N!” You snapped out of your thoughts, head swirling with flashbacks as Yeji shouted for your attention. “What fun were you referring to?” She shifted closer, curiosity written across her features.

You smiled, flicking her forehead away.

“Jake suddenly wants a big birthday bash for his twenty-second,” you told her, thinking back to this morning when he was talking over the phone with his friends, inviting them to his party.

Seeing you pass by, he called you back, his face glowing with excitement as he ended the call.

“Invite all your friends and their mamas— it’s my 22nd!” He roared, and you imagined he’d burst into a Taylor Swift, ‘22’, any minute now.

“Jake? He usually calls them juvenile,” Yeji giggled, thinking back to the time she had a fat crush on your brother and how she stuck to him like a leech until he shooed her off.

You nodded, rolling your eyes at your brother’s weird mood swings. “He wants to hold a grand party. You’re invited, I guess,” you waved her off, and Yeji laughed, her eyes twinkling in joy.

“Of course, I’ll be coming with my boo,” she winked. “Is it at the house?” Yeji asked, twirling her strands excitedly.

You shook your head, tidying your desk and packing up. “He’s planning it with his friend, Heeseung.”

Yeji gasped at the name as if it had evoked a cocktail party effect, her eyes wide as she held onto your shoulders. “That friend you had a wet dream of?”

Your jaw dropped, eyes wide in fear, darting across the hall to make sure no one heard her. “Shut up!” You yelled, your cheeks flushed red, the memory of your filthy mind fuelling your embarrassment.

Yeji laughed, a playful glint flashing in her hazel eyes. “What, did I lie?” She crudely announced, and you felt helpless, unable to feign innocence.

The night had left you shaken up. The truth was, you had never felt this affected by a hallucination— imagination, whatever it was, it blurred the lines between reality and fiction. You imagined Heeseung fondling your breasts, kissing your lips. All of it was a newfound hunger.

You scrambled to call Yeji soon after to regain some composure. After a long discussion, her diagnosis was a ‘severe case of ovulation’, and she prescribed, ‘getting dicked down asap’.

After that night, you kept wishing for more hallucinations, but your brain refused to cooperate. You had to rely on a picture you had stolen from Jake’s phone of Heeseung in a black button-down with his legs spread apart on the couch, his lap seeming so inviting that your abdomen clenched with need.

Maybe, you were ovulating. But why was it so intense?

“You know, maybe you should shoot your shot with him,” Yeji suggested, patting your shoulder as she stood alert, waving at the man standing in the doorway.

“My ride’s here, bye girly!” Yeji waved, setting her already perfect hair for the nth time before skipping to the smiling blonde, his gaze practically shooting hearts at your friend. Jaemin grabbed her hand, and they scattered off.

You sighed.

Lee Heeseung, what are you doing to me?

—.—.—.—.—.—.—

Booming music drowned out any chance of conversation. Guests sprawled in like ants to a sugar cube. Faces glowed with joy, arms carried gifts, and gazes sparkled with anticipation as they searched for the man of honour.

But it wasn't the birthday boy they sought. It was Lee Heeseung, the man who had invited the entire university to his farmhouse. It was a privilege, a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.

During his four years at the university, he hadn’t spared anyone a glance—let alone befriended anyone. When news circulated of Sim Jaeyun’s birthday invite at Heeseung’s, everyone jumped at the chance.

Girls skipped lessons to find the perfect dress, while guys ransacked their wardrobes for branded watches. Curiosity grew almost sleep-depriving. Who was this friend that Heeseung, the man who never let anyone into his circle, deemed worthy of a lavish party? For weeks, the university buzzed with gossip and excitement leading up to this day.

Heeseung’s gaze was fixed on the main entrance, his lips pressed into a thin line. He remained unmoving as over-enthusiastic people rushed to greet him.

He knew the world like the back of his hand. They hated him and despised his arrogance, yet they flocked to him like moths to a flame. All he had to do was give them a chance, let down his guard and the world would surrender in his palms. But it didn’t matter.

As long as he had your attention, the world could be his.

Jake appeared out of nowhere, his arm settling on Heeseung’s shoulder, smiling as his soccer mates walked in.

“You’re ignoring the entire hall,” Jake muttered, his grip tightening on Heeseung’s shoulder to warn him.

Heeseung glanced at the clock for the nth time, his fingers tapping impatiently against his glass. He barely acknowledged the birthday boy's attempt at conversation, his irritation mounting as the clock ticked on without your presence.

“Where is she?” He questioned.

“She had a presentation to finish up,” Jake said, rolling his eyes. “She’ll be here with Yeji and Jaemin soon.”

Jake wasn’t stupid. He had once believed he was special to Heeseung. The notorious case of Heeseung’s egocentrism was a popular topic in the university’s hallways. Even his soccer buddies claimed Heeseung was a nutcase with extreme intelligence.

When Heeseung approached the basketball team and defeated Jake, the established ace of Seoul University, Jake developed a sense of respect and admiration for him. Despite everyone’s claims, Jake realized Heeseung’s issue wasn’t indifference or social deficiencies.

Everyone was infatuated, enthralled, and unequivocally aware of Heeseung’s gift; he commanded attention because he was extraordinary. The problem was that Heeseung didn’t care about them, and when people realized this, their fantasy shattered, leaving them scraping for bits of attention and bitter envy.

Jake knew Heeseung kept him around for a reason, but despite his awareness, Jake was willing to be a pawn if it meant catching Heeseung’s attention.

“Jakey Jakey— it’s your birthday!” Jake looked away, finding his best friend, Park Sunghoon, on the other end of the hall with a gift bag. Jake’s smile grew, and he signalled to Heeseung that he was heading over. Heeseung nodded, and Jake scurried off.

Heeseung averted his gaze, staring back at the main entrance. The delay grew unbearable, and he considered heading out to the parking lot when suddenly he spotted Jaemin and Yeji walking inside.

He stood alert, his gaze tensely fixed on the door.

He held his breath as you walked into his line of sight. His body felt the shift, breath quickening. His fists tightened, and his gaze traced your body with unfiltered haste.

Fuck, that black body-con dress, outlining your curves, hugging your body like a second skin. His grip on the glass tightened. The dress revealed your defined collarbones, and the slit from the knee paired with black-heeled boots showcased your smooth, honeyed legs. Your hair was curled slightly, silky strands falling in waves against your cheeks, reaching your elbows.

Heeseung’s head throbbed as he tried to decipher his feelings. Seeing you walk inside with that dress made something rise in his throat, and it wasn’t from the alcohol. It was worse, mentally and physically damaging.

How fucking demeaning. He was a man who never felt the burn of envy, but a fucking dress had him feeling so weak—so horribly jealous.

He wished he could tear it off and burn it to ashes like the scorching flames in his own blood. He had planned this moment all morning, intending to walk up to you with a smile, but now he found it difficult to breathe, let alone move.

However, the world doesn’t stop. Even if he couldn’t move, you very much could.

Your stray gaze finally landed on the familiar figure, and you walked up to him. You still weren’t mentally prepared to face the man you had been dreaming of for the past few weeks, but you found it unkind to ignore him when he had planned this lavish party.

You smiled, holding out a small gift bag.

“As far as I recall, it’s not my birthday,” Heeseung finally found his voice, his cheeky comment making you narrow your eyes.

“It’s basic etiquette to bring something when you visit someone,” you replied a hint of playfulness in your tone. You caught sight of the gift display in the backdrop where innumerable presents were mounted on the table. “I’ll take it there,” you politely acknowledged.

You were ready to walk off, but Heeseung pulled you back, instantly grabbing the present. Taken aback, you opened your mouth to question him, but he ignored your curious gaze.

Everyone stealing reserved glances at the duo paused, their eyes wide, jaws dropped in amusement. Like a boy opening his Christmas gifts, Heeseung rushed to untie the ribbon and tear through the wrapping paper.

“Heeseung, it’s not that great…” your panicked voice cut through, cautious of everyone’s expectant gaze on your gift. The plea went right through him, and he finally discovered a small clear bottle.

You brought him cologne.

You had racked your brain for days on what to bring him, and you had decided upon a blackberry cologne. The succulent scent carried a sinful aura, an intimidating and enigmatic aroma that perfectly captured Lee Heeseung.

Heeseung ran his thumb over the label. Then he unscrewed the top and sprayed it on his wrist. As he brought it to his nose, his heart felt fuller than before.

He imagined you walking into a Jo Malone store, attentively trying numerous scents until the abundant smells overstimulated your senses as you thought of him. How long did you spend deciding on the perfect one? How long did he manage to fill up your head?

“It’s just a small gift,” you mumbled, analysing his features.

“It’s perfect.” He said it with so much sincerity, you had no choice but to believe him.

“Where’s my gift?” Jake appeared with some of his rowdy friends from the sports club, his arm linked with the ice skater, Park Sunghoon. He pouted dramatically, his bottom lip sticking out. You rolled your eyes at his antics.

“Last I checked, you asked me to buy you a Nintendo Switch as an early birthday present,” you replied. Jake gave you a mock glare. “That was ages ago,” he huffed.

Before you could retort, you caught Yeji's eyes from across the room. She stood by the bar, urgently motioning for you to come over. The alarmed look on her face made you excuse yourself from the guys as you hurried to her.

Yeji grabbed your arm with an intense grip, struggling to catch her breath as a crazed laugh bubbled up her throat.

“You’re kidding,” she gasped. “You were talking about Lee Heeseung!” She roared with laughter, her expression priceless as she turned to you.

You stared at her, confused. “What?”

“Y/N!” She shook you slightly, her wide eyes trembling with excitement. “You don’t know him? He’s popular across the entire district!”

Seeing your blank expression, Yeji took it upon herself to fill you in. She pulled out her phone and showed you Seoul University's popular forum dedicated to Heeseung. As she clicked through the links, you realised the man was practically the definition of perfection.

His father owned a large-scale pharmaceutical corporation, and Heeseung was the sole heir. Despite this parental security, he was at the top of his classes, captain of the basketball team, head of the arts and music society, and president of student affairs. By his second semester, he had already secured an internship at HYBE, a massive healthcare conglomerate—separate from his father’s influence. He was so incredibly intelligent that the college even commemorated his achievements with dedicated newsletter columns and interview sessions.

As you absorbed this overwhelming information, Yeji’s tone flattened, her lips pressing into a thin line. “But, Y/N, he’s known as a player,” she reluctantly added. “Apparently, there hasn’t been a girl he hasn’t had.”

You stared silently at the soles of your boots.

Of course, he was a player. Anyone would drop to their knees for a chance to be with him. You had read somewhere that gravitational pull was the strongest in a black hole, but science hadn’t investigated the world’s pull towards Heeseung. You had only met him a couple of days ago, yet he had already made you feel so unbearably enraptured.

Ruminating over Yeji’s words, you were speechless at your own disappointment. How could he affect you so terribly?

“But—he’s never had anything serious,” Yeji tried to console you, squeezing your shoulder.

Throat tightening, you attempted a smile.

“Who invited them?” Yeji's gasp broke through your thoughts, her mouth hanging open, eyes bulging in shock as she stared behind you.

You shifted, turning to see what had her so stunned.

Your jaw dropped.

In walked a couple, hand in hand, wearing complimentary outfits. A couple you hadn’t spoken to in ages, a couple that haunted your sleepless nights: Park Jongseong and Yu Ji-min.

Your frantic gaze searched for Jake, conflicting emotions swirling across your face as you tried to make sense of your surroundings. Your older brother stood inattentive, engrossed in a conversation with Sunghoon as Jay approached him, wearing a broad smile. You watched them exchange a quick handshake, Jake accepting a large gift box.

“Why would Jake invite him?” Yeji huffed.

You didn’t know—but a gut feeling told you this was meant to happen.

The familiar gaze met yours. He was now heading to the leather couch beside his girlfriend, his eyes trained on you. You offered him a tight smile, your insides trembling in growing anxiety.

Jay was stern, his gaze cold and disdainful. Whilst maintaining eye contact, he pulled his girlfriend to sit on his lap, his grip tight on Ji-min’s waist as she whispered something into his ear.

Your smile dropped at his immaturity.

You had lost both your friends, Jay and Ji-min, because of your mistakes. You had avoided them like the plague, and something deep within you suggested that the mysterious rumours circulating around the university weren’t just random gossip; they were spread by someone you had once considered as close as Yeji.

Something more sinister gnawed at your insides.

Heeseung.

Amidst the chaos, you felt someone’s piercing gaze on you. Like a magnet, you found him. Under the blue strobe light, Heeseung stood leaning against the bar’s counter, flanked by a few girls, with his eyes fixed on you, watching like a hawk.

Though he was a stranger—a complete nobody in your world—you still felt he was reading you like an open book. Anxiety washed over you, your throat drying up under his intense scrutiny. If your life was split into meaningful chapters, Heeseung knew it by heart, his gaze uncomfortably invasive, expectant as if judging your next move.

A waiter zooming by caught your attention, and you pounced on the opportunity. Fingers trembling, you grabbed a glass of champagne and downed it in one go, the liquor leaving a bitter burn in your throat.

“Y/N, you don’t hold your liquor well,” Yeji frowned. One drink never hurt anyone, and besides, this was a party—everyone was soon going to lose their marbles.

You turned away, grabbing another drink from a passing waiter.

“Y/N, stop!” Yeji warned. You smiled tightly, ready to throw more alcohol into your system.

In a flash, Heeseung, who had been a good fifty people away, stood towering over you. He snatched the glass from your grasp and chugged it down. You watched in disbelief as he slammed the empty glass on a passing waiter’s tray, his gaze darkening as he stared at you. Yeji took it as her cue to scram, rushing to accompany her boyfriend on the dance floor.

Your stomach clenched with want. Even simply dressed in a black t-shirt and leather jeans, his expression sour, his appeal was uncanny. He made you forget the elephant in the room.

“So— he bothers you that much?” Heeseung spat, his voice low and venomous.

He had planned to watch from the sidelines. Jongseong’s name was enough for Heeseung to find sources and sniff out your past link. He was told you had rejected the boy, but that didn’t match Jake’s description of your first crush.

It didn’t take long for Heeseung to realise that you really did like Jongseong, your affection reflected in that picture you still chose to keep. The reason you had declined his proposal wasn’t a mystery either. You feared ruining a chance at friendship, and that conclusion made Heeseung sleepless.

Heeseung had orchestrated this party and invited Jongseong, just to watch your heartbreak. He wanted to dwell in the forlorn misery in your gaze, relish in the fury and hatred fuelling your agonised expression. He wanted you to shatter so that you were left with no choice but to find him. So that he could collect those shards and piece you together. For himself.

Yet here you stood, bothered and apologetic. There wasn’t one bad bone inside you, your heart pure like the sunshine that streaks through his curtains every morning.

“How do you know about Jay?” You curiously pointed out, folding your arms and gazing up at the man.

Heeseung flinched at the nickname. Tightening his fists, he responded with gritted teeth. He didn’t need to lie for this.

“Jake.”

One word and your face crumbled, your finger pointing at the blonde who laughed beside his friends. “Why can’t that idiot keep his mouth shut?” You complained, glaring daggers. You couldn’t believe your brother blurted out your business to Heeseung.

“Do you still want him?”

Say it.

Say it, and he’ll burn this place down, along with Park Jongseong, leaving you with nothing—not even a corpse to mourn—just a speck of remains and dirt.

“I don’t.”

His eyes shifted back to their brown.

“I just wish I hadn’t lost my friends.” You glanced down at your shoes, face shrouded in despair as you reminisced the past.

Heeseung watched the sorrow flicker in your deprived eyes.

This was simpler than he had imagined.

“Let’s get the party started!” Jake yelled at the top of his lungs, carrying a huge celebratory bottle of champagne as everyone huddled around him.

Yeji appeared by your side, dragging you towards the crowd where Jake prepared to unseal the wine, like a cake-cutting ceremony. From your peripheral vision, you noticed Heeseung walk up beside you—until everyone, including Jake, roared for him to come forward.

You watched Heeseung shake his head dismissively, but Jake’s adamant smile made him falter. For the first time, you saw a crack in Heeseung’s stern façade, a genuine sense of joy flashing through his expression.

You watched with intrigue as he stepped up, and Jake finally celebrated his twenty second. Everyone cheered as Jake popped the cork and showered Heeseung and Sunghoon with the essence.

Yeji over-excitedly gasped. During her overjoyed dance, she accidentally slipped forward, toppling her glass of wine onto your dress’s front. You quickly wiped at it, but the liquid soaked into the flimsy fabric with ease.

“Shit— sorry boo,” she cried over the music. You shook your head, dismissing her concern.

“I’m heading to the washroom,” you muttered. She nodded, unsure of your words, as the loud roaring and music drowned everything.

You slipped away from the chaos, excusing your way through until you managed to escape to the other end of the hall. You followed the dim hallway, the raucousness dissolving, as you searched for the nearest bathroom. You found a door at the far end with a staircase to your right and sped towards it.

“Long time.”

You turned, instantly freezing up.

Jay stood at the other end, speaking with his familiar calculated baritone. He stepped forward, watching your shocked expression morph into disappointment.

“Oh, seems like you’re not too happy to see me here,” he claimed, now standing a mere step away, his tone dripping with malice. “Is the princess running away again?” The darkness returned, his jaw clenched.

You gulped, standing upright. “I don’t have anything to say to you,” you told him, turning away.

A bitter chuckle escaped his chest. “Of course, you don’t,” he spat. “Now that you’ve found a man, you don’t have much to say,” he claimed, running his fingers through his dark strands, his gaze menacing.

Your throat burned with hostility. “You’re ridiculous,” you huffed. “Following a girl when you’ve already got a girlfriend—seems like I dodged a bullet.” You uttered the words, disturbed by his arrogant nonchalance, and instantly the atmosphere grew with heightening tension.

Your cruel words seemed to inflict some damage as Jay’s body trembled, his fists tightening in aggravation.

Because you were right. He knew it.

As you stepped away, all common sense evaded him. He grabbed your wrist and slammed you to the wall, a gasp wrenching out of your chest as he hovered above, his hands gripping your waist with an iron grip.

“I never needed you,” he whispered, his eyes wide and pained as you attempted to free yourself, but Jay’s grip on your waist only tightened. “I’ve just liked the chase. You were so full of yourself—so pathetic. Nothing about you ever made me feel something—anything—”

A bloodcurdling scream wrenched out of your throat as a shattering sound reverberated within your frame. Your eyes bulged out, heart trashing and body quivering in horror. One second Jay was standing, staring at you like a madman, and the next, he was knocked to the ground, blood splattering against your cheeks, staining your dress and skin scarlet.

Breathe. Take a deep breath. Breathe.

You plummeted to the floor, your knees giving out as Jay’s forehead and neck covered in red pooled on the ground. You internally prepared yourself as you looked up, staring at the perpetrator.

A dull void of a gaze, Heeseung’s hand was wrapped around a half-shattered bottle with its sharpened edges dripping Jay’s blood. Your insides clenched in horror.

Heeseung stepped closer as Jay’s limp frame scrambled to sit up, his gaze chasing the danger, his grip on his head loosening as he spotted the man.

“You—you fucking lunatic—what the fuck is wrong with—”

Jay’s yelps fell on deaf ears as Heeseung discarded the bottle and plummeted to the floor before you, his pupils drained of colour and hands trembling as he caressed your cheeks. His thumb rubbed at the splashes of blood, eyes wide with terror—a terror you had never seen. More than his own actions, his line of concern was the beads of red staining your complexion.

“Hee…” you tried to speak, your throat dry and lips quivering.

“It’s okay—you’re okay,” his voice trembled as he consoled himself, more than anyone, his gaze frantically running over your body.

What you didn’t realise was Jay reaching out to grab the loitering bottle. Heeseung’s warm gaze and words were so captivating, pulling you away from the unfolding catastrophe. Suddenly, the fantasy shattered. Jay smashed the bottle against the back of Heeseung’s head.

You screamed, your body jerking alert as you pulled Heeseung into your arms, sobbing aloud. Jay stood on trembling legs, glaring at Heeseung with a poisonous look before limping away. You tightened your hold on Heeseung, your body shaking despite his grievous injury. The attack was strong enough to lash out blood but not wilful enough to break the bottle like Heeseung had done.

You tried to pull away to check his wound, but Heeseung pulled you back into his chest, his arms wrapping around you protectively.

Fuck. He could die right now and he’d be happy. Over the fucking moon. He almost wanted to thank that low-life for brusing him because it worked in his favour.

You gazed upon him with sympathetic attention, like you were gazing upon a wounded puppy. You were finally in his arms, letting him envelop you. He inhaled the scent of vanilla and fresh peaches, his hold on your frame tightening with desperation.

He wanted to consume you.

“Heeseung, let me see your wound,” you softly cried into his shoulder, unable to breathe at the intensity of his clutch.

“It’s not deep—nothing compared to what that moron will take home,” Heeseung arrogantly claimed. His prideful tone made your insides hurl; it reminded you of the initiation. Heeseung had started it all; he had slammed a glass bottle into Jay’s head.

You pushed him back, your gaze stern as you met his aggravated one. “Why?” You cried hysterically, recalling the insanity of the previous moment. “How could you—”

Heeseung’s expression grew colder than ice. “I’ll break every bone he used to touch you,” he declared, the honesty in his tone sending chills down your spine.

“You literally almost murdered him!” You screeched.

Heeseung cracked a deluded smile. “He’ll wish I had.”

You felt speechless. Utterly stunned into silence. What did that mean? You wanted to assume that his fury made him speak nonsense, that he didn’t mean a word. However, when you stared into Heeseung’s gaze, your stomach turned at the resolute darkness, his words horrifyingly blunt and absurd.

You were about to call him out when you noticed trail of blood slither down the side of his face. You gasped. "You need to get to a hospital,” you urged.

“And explain what?” He scoffed with a playful smile.

You felt bewildered. Of course, you didn't care at the moment! As long as he got treated, you didn't care what lie he spat out.

You glared at him. “You need to get it checked out, Heeseung,” you muttered with concern, noticing the blood kept gushing in thicker streams.

Wordlessly, Heeseung grabbed your hand, intertwining your fingers, and nodded as he pulled you to stand. You sighed in relief, grateful that he was finally listening. His grip never faltering on your hand, you both turned towards the venue.

Heeseung suddenly pulled you back, ignoring your confusion, instead climbing up the staircase. “What’re you doing?” You groaned, attempting to retract, but Heeseung just kept walking.

Upstairs, the living room was carpeted with posh couches and chairs. You passed by expensive paintings hung up on the wall as Heeseung took you inside a dark room, stalking through blindly until he pushed at another door.

Lights flickering on, you surveyed the unfamiliar surroundings. Heeseung had brought you to a bathroom. You glanced at him in confusion as he shut the door and turned towards you.

“Heeseung, what’re you doing?”

“You said I need to get my injury checked out,” he responded, leaning down and grabbing a first aid kit from the cubby hole. “I’m doing it,” he flashed you a clever smile, his eyes shining with amusement.

Even if you were about to throw a tantrum, you couldn’t anymore. Heeseung’s words, his eyes, his smile, everything was enough for you to sit still and obey. You watched as he stepped towards the large mirror. He casually tilted his head to inspect the wound.

Expressionless, he opened up the first aid kit, grabbing a transparent bottle and cotton pads like a professional, as if he had already addressed such wounds in the past. With practised nonchalance, he soaked the cotton pad with the liquid and pressed it into the wound.

You winced, instinctively jumping forward to grab the bottle from his hand.

“Who deals with a wound like that!” You screeched hysterically.

Heeseung turned, his brows raised, lips pressed in confusion. You put forward your palm, glaring at him. He surveyed your stern expression and, to your surprise, gave in easily, handing you the stained cotton ball without putting up a fight. You had imagined he would claim he knew more—but Heeseung just stared at you passively. You gulped, edging forward.

You knew the wound was deeply ingrained on the right side of his head, but reaching it was an issue. You were a good half a person shorter than him, his towering frame allowing you to reach only his chest. Standing on your tiptoes, you could only make it to his collarbone. You tried pushing up to reach the mark, but it remained physically impossible.

You noticed the amusement sparking in his expression, his lips curving into a gentle smile. “What’s so funny?” You gruffly questioned, and his smile only grew more.

He wrapped his arms around your waist and lifted you up, setting you on the cold basin. He turned, towering between your parted legs.

“There.”

You quickly recovered, ignoring the butterflies fluttering in your chest or the heat stirring from where he had just touched you. You reached up. The angle allowed you to address the wound better.

Thankfully, there was a single cut, slashing down to the nape. You held the cotton against the cut, letting it absorb the blood, and then gently swirled it across.

Heeseung’s breathing suddenly grew heavy, and you flinched, quickly scanning his face for hints of pain. “Is it too bad?” You muttered, your eyes wide and voice reluctantly soft.

He nodded. It was painful, so unbearably agonising like he was thrown into a fuming furnace, burning and dying, then reincarnating and burning every breath he spent in your vicinity.

His fists tightened, his gaze tracing your attentive expression, your lips puckered in deep concentration, hands so gentle, like a mother’s touch—or what Heeseung assumed must’ve been had he ever felt one. The past month he only dreamed of this moment—to have you before him, launched between his legs, attending only to him.

You cleaned up his wound with precision. He had practice, but your touch was magical—a healing balm of its own.

“Have you done this for anyone else?” His question came out gruffer than expected, his stomach twisting as he imagined you perched on a sink like this for someone else.

You finished cleaning up, moving to grab the bandage. “Of course not,” you huffed, peeling the bandaid from the wrapper.

“I just know I’m not supposed to stab wounds like that,” you sarcastically claimed, reminded of him jabbing his head. “You’re the future doctor… you should know this,” you leaned to the side, pressing the band-aid into his scalp.

“They teach us how to treat,” he stated. “Whatever gets the job done,” he shrugged.

You couldn’t help but grimace at his words.

“If you don’t treat with the element of pain in mind, you’ll hurt yourself more.”

Heeseung's throat was suddenly tighter than normal.

You wiped your hands with a tissue. Shifting closer, you inspected Heeseung’s injury one more time. You were about to get off the sink when you noticed glimmering bits of glass nestled in his hair. Impulsively, you reached out, flicking the strands.

“Oh—!” You jerked away, your finger cut by an unseen sharp edge that pierced the flesh.

Before the blood even oozed out, Heeseung sprang forward, grabbing your wrist, his gaze wide with horror as he impulsively pulled your finger into his mouth.

An astonished gasp escaped your chest.

Wide-eyed, you watched Heeseung suck around your finger.

At the first drop of your blood against his tongue, Heeseung’s eyes screwed shut, his body heating up, the metallic taste mixed with your skin’s sweetness creating a delicious buzz within his taste buds. Maybe if he drank enough, you'd really become a part of his being; if he fused your blood with his, you'd somehow become his.

He lapped at the drop incessantly, his hand reaching to lock your wrist in place as he covered your finger with saliva.

There was a shift in the air. You felt it in your bones.

As he looked up, meeting your eyes while simultaneously drenching your finger inside his mouth, your body began to heat up. A burn ignited at the centre of your legs, your imagination running wild, your limbs quivering.

Time became meaningless as he revelled in the euphoric bliss. When he noticed you weren’t pulling away or flinching, his muscles clenched with want. Instead, your cheeks were redd, eyes fluttering in bashfulness. Warmth in his blood shot lower, pooling within his sensitive region.

A thrum vibrated his own being as Heeseung popped another finger into his mouth, his sucking growing intense, lascivious, and hungrier. Your body jolted as his slick enveloped your digits, his tongue tirelessly flicking and tasting.

You wanted to intervene and stop this madness, but suddenly you couldn’t find your voice. Your throat refused to cooperate, and your lips denied any help.

His gaze was trained on your expressions, every blink, every gasp. He wanted to memorise the way your cheeks blushed scarlet and mouth opened in silent gasps. You were so beautiful, so perfect, so his.

“Hee—” you managed to choke out.

Heeseung’s hardness jerked in his pants, his body shaking with want. You had just attempted to say his name.

Suddenly, he pulled his mouth away and yanked you to the floor. You fell against his chest, your feet staggering on the marble floor, a stunned gasp escaping your mouth. He didn’t let you process it, his moves sharp and abrupt.

Your jaw dropped as you felt the tent of arousal straining against your abdomen. Your underwear was drenched, muscles taut as the reality dawned upon you. Lee Heeseung wanted you.

“Feel that—fuck—do you feel it?” He rasped against your ear, his hardened tone and body making you forget any coherent response, your body tensing up in his embrace. “Fuck, you’re so beautiful—stunning—so breathtaking. You make me—” His voice cracked as he felt nestled his nose against your neck, sniffing like a dog.

“Make you…” you pleaded for him to continue, craving his validation.

“Make me pathetic—so damn pathetic,” he blurted, his mind elsewhere as he sucked onto your earlobe.

His kisses ran down your neck, and he urgently flicked the hair away to feast. He pressed his lips gently, wanting to savour every moment and worship every inch, but within the first contact, his patience was out the window. He pushed his throbbing body into yours, knocking you against the sink as his mouth opened wide, biting into your flesh.

His mind fell numb as your taste and scent drove him to the brink of euphoria. He found it strange how you turned him into a quivering virgin mess with just this.

Your gasps reverberated in the bathroom walls, your frame quivering.

His touch was desperate, persistent like he was holding onto you for dear life. Fingers interlocked in your strands, body shaking with restrain as his mouth devoured your neck, you felt lost in a sea of pure bliss. You hadn’t had many sexual experiences in your life, but whatever make out sessions you had shared with boys in first year didn’t live up to this feeling, this hunger— from him.

“Ah!”

Every hair on his body stood alert. Your sounds were so pretty just like your body. He knew he couldn’t live without absolutely breaking your resilience. He had to tear through your exterior and drag out the vulnerable girl who moves to his rhythm, sings to his beat and responds to his call.

“Heeseung—Ah!” Your body tensed, his name falling from your mouth as his kisses grew frantic, prolonged. You were so flustered that you felt the world knock off its axis. You urgently held onto his tense shoulders, hoping you wouldn't fall over with the intensity of his want.

Had it been any other girl in his arms, anyone, he’d have thrown her on the floor and fulfilled his depraved desires. He’d have coerced her lust, used and abused her body like a mere object for his release. He wanted to do the same to you like he’d envisioned every night.

But you weren’t any girl. You weren't a momentary escape. For the first time in his life, he wanted it both: lust and love. He wanted to ruin you for everyone— not just physically but emotionally. He wanted your body and your soul.

And you were the sole reason he unwillingly held back, restrained his desire to rip you apart.

Breathless and flustered, you struggled to gather your thoughts. Your body was begging for him, but you couldn’t look past the reality.

This was Lee Heeseung, the hottest playboy, the genius, the most eligible bachelor in Korea—and most importantly, your brother’s best friend. You were calling his name so embarrassingly, and you were certain going all the way, he’d have nothing to do with you after tonight. He was like a forbidden fruit, so effortlessly desirable but never yours.

He will never be yours.

Your eyes burned with tears. You had managed to like him so much, and tonight it would crumble apart. Just the way you had ended up running from Jay, you should run from Heeseung before he takes your heart with him.

Determined, you pushed against him. The sudden move knocked him away, his reddened face twisting in confusion and frustration at the distance.

You quickly stumbled to the sink, splashing cold water on your face. Your complexion as red as a cherry, eyes shining, indicating hints of your previous bliss; Heeseung had littered red and purple marks all over your neck, his saliva still warming your flesh.

Behind you, Heeseung appeared, wrapping his arms around your waist. His eyes locked onto your reflection, his gaze darkening as it traced the curve of your neck. The heat between you intensified, his desire becoming evident as he pressed his aching body into yours. His eyes fluttered shut, savouring the sensation of your soft curves against him.

Embarrassingly, your abdomen clenched again.

“T—this is wrong. Stop,” you babbled, pushing him away, your dejected tone falling on deaf ears as he pressed into you again. “Heeseung—” You turned, using all your force to push him away. He looked up, his eyes clearly unfocused.

The bathroom was getting stuffy now. His unnerving gaze made it hard to breathe. You stepped away, yanking the bathroom door open and rushing out into the bleak room, your breathing unnecessarily heavy. Your body was aching with arousal, wanting to go back into his arms and give yourself up.

Heeseung shot out, grabbing your waist and jerking you into his hold, his heavy breaths lingering against your earlobe. You tried pulling away when suddenly he whipped you around.

With darkness blinding your vision, you couldn’t evade him as he yanked you into his chest and slammed his lips into yours.

The taste of cherries overwhelmed your senses, your body liquifying as he immediately plunged his tongue into your mouth, tasting you.

Every instant in his life had brought him to this moment. He knew it when he kissed your mouth, licked your tongue, traced your gums—he knew you were meant for him. Your beauty was his to ruin. Your taste was his to devour. Your love was his to take.

A strange sensation flared up in his chest, spreading to his heart. For the first time, all his medical knowledge felt useless—he didn’t even feel human because even they could identify sensations.

Heeseung cupped your jaw, his lips trembling as he took in all your taste had to offer. His teeth clashed with yours, and his saliva dripped down your chin, his tongue rolling against yours as he poured an overwhelming flood of unnamed emotions into you.

His erection pressed against your lower stomach as he kissed you breathlessly. Suddenly, he was tearing at his buttons, desperate to feel your skin against his.

His kiss felt urgent, charged with arousal. You felt like you would blow into tattered pieces with the intensity of his touch, his deprivation and lust. Your fingers ran through his tousled strands, clenching for semblance of control as he sucked the soul out of you.

Your lungs flared up in discomfort due to the limited oxygen supply. You gasped, pushing at his shoulders with all your strength. Heeseung’s grip didn’t falter. Your gasps grew more strained and alarming. Only when you felt tears blurring your vision did Heeseung relent.

Both of you panted like dogs, heaving breaths echoing through the room.

“Stop it!” You screamed, pushing him away as you blindly searched for the exit.

Yellow lights flickered on, the sudden burst blinding you momentarily. Heeseung stood like a barrier blocking the door, his advantage clear as he seemed to have the room mapped out in his head.

Pupils blown out, he panted, his gaze clouded with the need to ravage and devour you whole. His undone button-down hung the shoulders, revealing honey toned chest and tense abs, descending lower into his pants. Your mouth dried up, but you forced yourself to remain unfeeling.

You voiced out, “Let me go—”

“Why?” He asked gruffly. His eyes locked onto your trembling orbs, his brows arching in frustration.

“I can’t have you?” He whispered.

His words were laced with provocation. He hadn’t felt such an urgency to ruin someone, ever. He ached to feel your skin against his. He was hurting to fill you. If you wanted, he would plummet to his knees, stick out his tongue and shamelessly beg, plead.

You looked at him with indifference. “You’re my brother’s—”

“So what?” He barked, his abrupt interruption making your breath stutter.

He stepped closer until he had you pressed against the wall, his arms on either side, locking you in place. You hadn’t expected him to be this eager. Why did he care? A man like Heeseung could get any woman on earth. One look and they’d drop their panties to the floor. Your glare grew more acrimonious at the realisation.

You pushed at his chest, your fingers grazing his warm skin, lighting up fireworks in your system. “I refuse to be your one-night fantasy, Heeseung,” you stuttered, unshed tears slipping out.

The fury in his gaze collapsed, his lips parting in stunned horror.

This was your chance…to run free, to protect whatever’s left of your heart. Hastily, you dashed to the door, your grip pulling at the handle when suddenly Heeseung was behind you, enveloping your waist.

You screamed and struggled, your feet kicking the air as he carried you away and tossed you onto the bed. You fought against his manhandling, punching and pushing against him, but he just stared at you like you were a weak feline lashing out.

He let you burst out until your energy had depleted and you fell limp.

“You’re fucking joking,” he laughed, disbelief coursing through his frame. “One night fantasy?” He spat, his fists tightening at the audacity of your words.

You stared back, matching his intensity. “Isn’t it famously known?" You huffed. “You don’t touch a woman you’ve had once,” you snarled, your tone dripping with hostility.

That sent him spiralling. “I don’t,” he declared. He watched the spark in your eyes die down, tears running down your cheeks. You attempted to get up, but Heeseung dropped to his knees, his hands scrambling to cup your face.

His heart pounded so hard, that he felt its drumming within his entire being. “You’re not any woman,” his voice cracked, his throat tightening as he kissed your tears one by one. “You’re mine."

He hadn’t said anything more honest in his entire life.

Yet, you looked at him the same—awfully sceptical, disbelieving. He had attempted to pour out his heart, claim you as his, but you gazed at him like he was a liar, a deceiver. Heeseung dropped his arms, anger surging within his blood.

“You don’t believe me,” he declared, his tone laced with bitter sarcasm.

You wanted to so badly—but you had no reason to. Why would he fall for you?

You watched as Heeseung’s gaze frantically scoured the room.

Something ominous was happening. You felt your stomach twist. You called his name, but he turned away, dashing towards the study table. You stared in confusion as he grabbed his car key.

Without any warning, Heeseung struck the sharp edge into his chest, stabbing himself in his sternum. A scream lurched out your throat, your breath stuttering as you attempted to get to him. He forced the key inside, tearing through the flesh in a line. Blood gushed through the wound, but Heeseung’s concentration remained firm.

“What the fuck— stop-stop!” You screeched, finally getting a hold of his arm.

He didn’t stop, still working on creating the art piece he wanted you to see. You felt lightheaded as you fought against his determined actions. Unable to knock him back into reality, you decided to fling at the key, letting it slip from his grasp.

Horror ceased your chest. The scarred flesh formed a letter— your initial. You gazed up at him, your throat constricting as a soul-stirring chill escalated down your spine.

“If I carve you in my blood, will you believe me?” A pained gaze, a torn heart, a horrifying smile.

Your limbs trembled.

You glanced at the wound, lips parting in silent horror.

This was absurd— absolute madness. You couldn’t wrap your head around it, but you knew it was awfully dangerous like playing with fire or chasing a lion into its den. You should be scared— fearing for your life. You should escape right now when you have the chance. You should run and never look back.

There are many shoulds' you encounter in life, but none of them hold any value when something as desirable holds you by the throat. Someone as irresistibly horrifying as Lee Heeseung. Whatever you did next, you knew your fate was sealed. Even if you ran, you couldn't outrun him-- and somewhere in the pool of longing in your depraved heart, you didn't want to. You didn't want to find a way out.

You leaned down and wrapped your lips around his honey peck, swirling your tongue and licking the scarlet oozing from his self-inflicted wound, surprising yourself as you swallowed it down.

Life and death stood at a standstill. Had you pushed him away, he’d still have ruined you, broken your soul to pieces and killed himself over hurting you. But you chose to acknowledge, indulge in his pained longing, accepting it like a lover's call, making him want to live more— chase more— love more.

Vision glazed, heart thundering against his chest, he wrapped you in a breathless embrace.

Amid the chaos, a strained voice invaded the room. “Hee— fuck, we’ve got a problem.”

Your head shot towards the door, eyes wide with fear.

Fuck.

Your brother was at the door.

A rampant knock. “Hee— you in there?” Jake's voice spilt into the heated room, your body freezing. Heeseung didn't even spare the door a glance as he pressed himself within your body.

“They’ve come looking for drugs— I don’t know who’s called but the police are searching the place.”

Your eyes bulged out of their sockets, jaw-dropping in horror.

Drugs? Police?

Instead of concern or a slight hint of fear, Heeseung’s grip tightened on your wrists, and he attacked your lips, invading your mouth. You gasped, caught off guard, your jaw opening in a silent gasp. He swallowed your protests, his hands releasing your wrists to grope your butt-cheeks as he hoisted you up in his arms while sucking on your bottom lip.

“Bro— are you seriously fucking someone right now?” Jake’s incredulous tone made you want to dig a hole and bury yourself inside.

Heeseung’s grip on your buttocks tightened, his groans purposefully filling the room like a silent message for Jake. His knees gave out, knocking you down, your body crashing into the bed as he vigorously unbuckled his jeans. His warm tongue feasted through your mouth, swallowing your complaints, his head lolling into your shoulders as he pressed wet, hasty bites down your neck.

Another knock.

“Fuck— Heeseung get out here! They’ve arrested Jongseong.”

You gasped.

What the fuck?

Heeseung paused.

Through glazed vision, he stared down at you. His lips slowly formed a smile that made every hair on your body rise.

Kim Sunoo had really come through, orchestrating a flawless drug raid, planting the evidence in Jongseong's bags and vanishing without a trace. Jay would waste away five years in prison for drug possession— barely enough to atone for the pain he gave you, hopefully enough to erase the longing that fucker held for you. Heeseung knew he owed his partner in crime a bottle of Soju next time Sunoo visited their shared farmhouse.

“Heeseung, we should—”

Heeseung licked your mouth, holding your trembling body in place, his fingers desperately tugging at your straps. Despite your persistence, he didn’t care for anything at the moment. Someone could tell him that the entire house was on fire or that the universe had collided into a meteor, crumbling to bits and pieces, and he’d still ignore it all.

For now, he will spend every second making you his—until his love is conveyed through his hunger, until his touch leaves scars and burns on your soul, until you love him enough to bleed him dry.

320 notes · View notes

corpsekiller · 7 months ago

Text

𝐢 𝐠𝐞𝐭 𝐦𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢'𝐦 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐬 (𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐝 𝐝𝐨𝐠) — 𝐤.𝐛𝐚𝐤𝐮𝐠𝐨𝐮

PAIRING. katsuki bakugou x genderneutral!reader

WARNINGS. hurt/comfort, overuse of quirk, mentions of burns

SYNOPSIS. after pushing himself beyond his limits during training, katsuki tries to deal with the consequences of his actions on his own.

AUTHOR'S NOTE. so, i'm finally back after taking a long break from writing! i honestly didn't plan to disappear without a word, but uni and work were keeping me really busy and i just didn't find the time to write. anyway, i hope you enjoy this little fic! <3

LENGTH. will be added later!

MASTERLIST

Everything fuckin' hurts.

His skin is reddened and the palms are blistered, aching and tender to the touch as he fumbles with the first-aid kit, rummaging through the small bag for some bandages to cover his open wounds. The cold water he ran over his sore fingers did little to soothe the pain and Bakugou swallows a broken sob when he finds nothing to stop the cuts from bleeding, tries to blink away the tears that begin to blur his vision as he tosses the first-aid kit across the room and slides down the wall to his knees.

"Katsu, are you in there?"

Your voice makes him flinch. It's muffled behind the closed door, barely audible, but he can still hear the honest concern laced in every word as you call out his name a second time. His heart stumbles in his chest, a treacherous rhythm behind his ribs that begs for help and yet, he can't bring himself to reply no matter how hard he tries — his lips part, but instead of words he finds stones in the hollow of his mouth.

No sound leaves his throat.

You're so pathetic, a voice whispers. It sounds strangely like his own.

For a second, Katsuki stares at the sickeningly white tiles beneath his feet, now stained with the remnants of his blood still oozing from his hand. Deep crimson glints tauntingly back at him, the bitter affirmation of his failure to control his explosive quirk reflecting in each little drop and fuck, he feels another sob shatter his body before he can clasp his bruised hands over his mouth — it makes him want to claw right through his chest, to grab his weakness right by the fuckin' throat and twist its brittle neck to silence it for the rest of his life.

He can't.

"Fuck off," he manages to bark around the stones and buries his face in the crook of his elbow, presses his nose into the sleeve of his of his shirt to suffocate this awful desperation that threatens to climb out his throat. "I'm fine, okay? I don't need your fuckin' help."

It's dreadfully quiet on the other side of the door.

Katsuki's breath hitches in his chest and he listens, counts the seconds — one, two, three, four — but besides the sound of his own thoughts roaring in his head, he can't hear anything else and the realization that tumbles down with this observation feels like a knife being pushed slowly into his flesh.

You left, he thinks bitterly, he finally pushed you away like everyone else. And look, he gets it — for the longest time, that's all he's ever done; shoving people away and hiding behind a carefully constructed facade of unbridled anger. He's only every held out his hands to destroy, to crush and win and maybe now, his actions finally return to haunt him in his weakest moment.

It doesn't matter that he caught a glimpse of hope when he first met you, that he thought he finally found someone who'd only laugh at his harsh comments and tell him to calm down, I know you don't mean it with an amused smile—

You left anyway, he reminds himself. It's probably for the best.

Then, a sigh.

"You're so stupid," you retort on the other side of the door, though there's no bite in your insult. "I know you can handle yourself, but I'm not leaving you in this state, even if I have to sit here all night."

Your voice cracks and his name lingers on the tip of your tongue, sweet and soft, never falling from your lips. "C'mon, let me in."

Instinctively, he gives in.

"Alright," Bakugou replies hesitantly. "Come in, but don't... Just don't fuckin' laugh at me, alright." It's a pathetic attempt to hide the pain behind a mask of unjustified anger, he knows, but he can't let you see him like this without putting up a miserable fight. It feels like he's been stripped of any dignity he's been feigning to hold on the span of his broad shoulders, like he's been reduced to nothing but an incurable ache that clings to his broad shoulders like a shadow under the scorching midday sun.

He's not even sure you heard him, words barely above a whisper, but then the door opens and you enter. With careful steps, you come closer and crouch down, your knees hitting the cold tiles with a soft thud. Immediately, Katsuki slumps against the wall, caving his shoulders into himself to escape your eyes studying his face, gaze wandering over his features as your brows crease in worry.

He hates it.

And yet, he doesn't move when you wordlessly wrap your hands around his wrists and gently turn them to observe the burns littering his bruised skin. There's a certain kind of caution in the way you touch him, something so utterly gentle, as if you're fuckin' scared of hurting him and Bakugou curses your stupid display of affection — no one ever handled him with such care before.

So, he grits his teeth and tears his gaze away from you. It's just too much, the way you look at him.

"Y'know, you shouldn't push yourself like that."

He almost barks out a laugh. The sharpness of a cynical retort burns on the tip of his tongue and he opens his mouth to spit it out, but you're quick to cut him off.

"Shut the fuck up for a second, 'kay?" It's almost as if you expected him to argue. "Listen, I get it. I really do. I know why you always push yourself in every training session until you're about to pass about, why you always strive for perfection and overexert your quirk, but this... on the long run, this will only lead you to your early grave."

"You don't know shit," he snarls. Like a wounded animal, he fears kindness, yet he craves it. Touching you makes him want to pull away and yet, he stays frozen, unable to move, because the moment you let go he's sure the pain of his burns will pull him back into the abyss he's been fighting his way out of for what feels like an eternity and he—

He can't give up now.

So instead, he just studies your expression — thoughtful, gentle, concerned. He feels his face heat up as his fingers tremble in your gentle grasp, itching with the urge to fumble with something, anything in means of distraction. He doesn't mind the lack of space — in fact, he finds it almost soothing to feel how close you are, but he's so vulnerable beneath your eyes that his mind screams at him to run if it means you won't look at him in this way again.

"I'm not judging you, Katsu," you mumble, sensing his unease. Your thumb draws small circles on the inside of his wrist, right where his pulse flutters beneath his skin. "But even the best of us need a break every once in a while. It's not a sign of weakness to ask for help, really."

Somehow, his shoulders relax.

"No one will judge you, I promise. So why don't we head to the nurse and let her take a look at your burns?"

It is almost instinctively that he desires to lean into your gentle touch, and remember this fragile feeling for the rest of his life — Katsuki finds a different kind of healing, now that he lets his walls crumble down in your embrace.

"Okay," he whispers and shakily pushes himself to his feet.

#katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #bakugo x y/n #bakugo x you #bakugo katuski #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou imagine #bnha x gender neutral reader #bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #bnha x fem!reader #boku no hero academia #mha x gender neutral reader #mha x reader #mha x y/n

271 notes · View notes

martyrbat · 2 years ago

Text

batman: war on crime

[ID: Batman standing on a skyscraper's gargoyle. He holds one end of his cape as the rest of it blows in the wind to be flared out in front of him. He's overlooking Gotham City and the people in the busy streets — which is surrounded by towering Gothic buildings. His internal narration reads, “I know I am fighting a war I can never completely win. But there are small victories that encourage me to keep trying. If I can win back one child, there may be hope for many others. If it starts with one person, and then a neighborhood, then perhaps redemption can spread through an entire city, and finally back to me.” END ID]

#WAHHH #thinking of what dini said about bruce....#‘Like a restless spirit; Batman is cursed to seek salvation for a terrible sin he committed in his past life;#which in his mind was not being able to prevent the murder of his parents. Batman's war on crime is a symbolic war against himself’#but also i need a tag for everytime batman is just the embodiment of hope no matter how despairing a situation may be #his trust and hope that people can change and things can eventually get better and his determination to prevent other people from #hurting like how he has since he was eight years old....#like i know i know we talk about it SO fucking much but literally making that decision as a child in the midst of your deepest grief #and deciding that you dont want everyone to ever experience the same lost?? and clinging to that oath for all your life??#just....#oh bruce :(#him and his stupid bleeding heart for everyone but himself :((#c: batman: war on crime #crypt's panels #batman #bruce wayne #bruce & gargoyles

34 notes · View notes

sanji-piss-hell · 1 year ago

Text

ZOSAN FIC REC

Here is some of my fave zosan fics. Some of these I read years ago and so I don't fully remember what theyre about but they we're good enough that I still have strong emotional attachments when I see the name. Most of them are things I've read recently. Literally all I do all day is homework and have an app tts fanfics to me like an audio book so there's quite a few of recs here. I am not the best at summeries but just trust me bro these are GOOD SHIT. I only provide the best. What I consider a good fic: - Takes place in the one piece world (I don't like modern aus) - Characters stay in character or if they do have changes from their canon portrayal there is a justifiable reason from within the story. - Solid story telling and arcs (even the shorter fics) - The Zosan dynamic is kept mostly how it is in canon they fight and bicker. (I know some like when they're soft with eachother like a loving married couple. You won't find much of that here) - Some of these have pervy sanji, que nose bleeds and ogling. With that out of the way here's the list!! Now to my fave zosan fic of all time and ironically enough the only fic taking place in a modern setting: Life is fine series. TW: Drug abuse, heavy angst, depression I have reread this twice and forced a friend to read it too. It is so amazing not just for the zosan but for the genuinely good story telling. You follow zoro reeling from his sudden loss of relationship with Sanji and falling down a...Well uh, path. It's fucked it's dark it's depressing and its fucking riviting. Alot of the time reading this you're just like WHY DID SANJI LEAVE HIM WHAT IS GOING ON??? Honestly I need to reread this again. Onto softer fics to heal your heart after that one: Honor in limits, his strengths in weakness By Hawksbrood

“Fucking hell cook, what happened to you?” Zoro demanded, voice low so as not to disturb the others sleeping nearby.

Sanji rolled his eyes. “What do you think? I told you we got in a fight earlier.”

“Not that, your fucking feet!”

The cook snarled at that, crushing his cigarette in his teeth. “What the fuck do you mean, my feet? They’re just feet!”

Zoro’s eyes widened, looking at the bruised flesh before him. This wasn’t that.

This was just so good and cute. I appreciate watching zoro appreciate sanji. They take care of eachother but in a way where theyre both still them yeah know? I appreciate how sanji is written letting himself be vulnerable but understanding that he's always gonna be crass cause it's just a part of who he is.

come on, come on (turn a little faster) by donutsandcoffee

The one where everyone thinks they’re dating, Sanji is oblivious, and Zoro takes everything in stride.

Sometimes a love story can go in reverse.

I reread this one recently and it's just soft and sweet. I like watching sanji flounder around. The gay panic is great.

a complete guide to falling in love by ThousandSunny Sanji was trained in the Bridal Arts; this does not go unnoticed by the rest of his crew. I read this like 3 years ago and I dont remember much but I do remember loving it!

Part Timer By 8ball Sanji really, really doesn't want to give Zoro a job at his restaurant. Zoro doesn't really even want to work there in the first place, but, well, there’s this thing with Sanji, and this thing with feelings and the whole thing is pretty damn stupid all together. Zeff just wants grandkids. He’s too old for this bullshit anyways. I am sure everyone knows 8ball very well they're like zosan famous but still just in case this one is really fucking good. Also read this 3 years ago so I don't remember much but I consider this a zosan classic. Onto the rated R Grand Buffet by asyndese Drunk fic!! If there was one thing Zoro knew, it was that you could always trust Sanji's inclinations to do a beautiful 180 as soon as he was drunk. Luckily, Zoro was more than equipped to handle it. I spent. 30 minutes. Trying to find this fic again because that's how much I loved it. It altered my brain chemistry. Sanji getting a nose job during sex is just. aaaaaaaaa. Read it. Cannot suggest enough. Horrors not yet known by Trixree

Sanji doesn’t know how he didn’t notice it before, is the thing. Of all the times he has seen Zoro shirtless (in battle, mostly) he just… never noticed. The problem is, once he has noticed, Sanji can’t seem to stop noticing. And neither can anyone else.

In which Zoro has a nipple piercing and Sanji has a Problem.

I recently reread this and the first time I read it I didn't really get the whole gender sanji shit. Now though???? Yeah another fic that rewired my brain chemistry. This fic opened doors for me it exposed me to a new world. Also sanji gay panic is in here and I live for that. It can be pretty raunchy (love that too) Three rounds with a tiger by KobochaKitsune Another drunk Fic!! also in modern times damn maybe I lied sdklfj

Liquid courage, drunken decisions, terrible euphemisms, and texts from last night, or: how to think entirely with the booze (and your dick) for once.

Or: By the time Sanji got to the party, everyone was already drunk.

I read this 3 years ago (theres a trend going on can you tell??) It also rewired my brain chemistry (from this point on just assume all of these nsfw fics rewired my brain chemistry each of these opened doors for me. This one opened the doors to bottom zoro.) Fucking 20k words of just pwp. I dont even know how the author did that bro like damn. Nature of things by stark_black Tw: Sex work and prostitutes When the Sunny docks, Sanji and Zoro sometimes seek out relief in some not so savory places. After crossing paths in town on more than one occasion, the two find they have a lot more in common than they would like to admit. I hunted this down for like fucking hours a couple of weeks ago because it was that good. Stark_Black has a fucking library worth of zosan fics this one is a classic to me. But if you want more content check out his other fics I think they have like over 100 zosan its kinda insane. Coregasm by Yakarmi

Sanji discovers that sometimes, Zoro has orgasms while he lifts.

-----

“You…” Sanji trailed off, gaze turning down as he licked his lips. Pink tongue darting out nervously. “You orgasm when you exercise?”

Zoro clenched his jaw. Shrugged. Trying to act nonchalant.

“Sometimes.”

Sanji’s eye went wide, and like his mouth had suddenly been liberated from his brain, blurted out, “that’s so fucking hot,” before clamping his hands over his mouth. His cigarette fell from his mouth, bouncing soundlessly on the ground.

Bro bestie, the way this put me on nose bleed Sanji. Perv sanji. I need that gif thats like mmm cause man this is good. Ending this fic rec with a BANG we have

Contingencies and Congruencies by PeaceSignDisasterBi

Somewhere between finishing the bottles of alcohol and mugs of beer, the crew comes together to create a contingency plan for something that may-or-may-not-happen during their time on the Grand Line and beyond. Usopp thinks it's more likely than bumping into zombies, Zoro wants to stay out of this, Sanji is just going with the flow, and Nami may or may not keep things legally binding and above board with consistent consensual acquiescence. Robin finds it all amusing.

The damn chart stays in the locked drawer in her desk, split into three neat categories: Devil Fruit Powers, Science, and Magic. Each represents whatever they're hit with but also categorizes the amount of self-control the person has during.

AKA: 5 times Zoro and Sanji had to help each other as Consensual Helpers of Dubious Consent + 1 Time There Was Nothing Dubious At All

Ok this is 152k long its pretty insane. It regoes over the arcs so throughly so carefully that I literally had to question my memory because I havent experienced alot of these arcs in a while (it's one of the reasons im rewatching one piece). I will say despite how amazing and well written this is I had a hard time comprehending sometimes. now I was sick at the time of reading this so that might be why but sometimes the way things were phrased felt like yoda talking. I think it's just me though. I'm not used to big words :( And thats a wrap!! These arent even all the ones I wanted to include I have at least 20 more off the top of my head but I'll save that for another day. I hope you find joy in these fics Like i did I'll def do another one of these as cause I didnt even touch my sanji centric fics or germa 66 or just in general the best sanji fanfic writers. (Mentioned some of them like 8ball, thousand sunny and donuts and coffee.) Best of luck to yall and let me know what you think!

605 notes · View notes

oceanspray5 · 2 years ago

Text

Heart breaking thinking about Barnes saying "Lockwood's a charlatan. He cuts corners, puts people at risk" and Kipps going: "You won't stick around too long, sweetheart, not once you find out what he's really like" to Lucy.

Meanwhile Lockwood:

(gifs credit: @tessxblxckthorn )

Like everyone around Lucy keeps telling her that Lockwood doesn't care about anyone but himself when all he really does is care SO DEEPLY and SO PAINFULLY he would do anything to make sure Lucy is safe. And yeah maybe it's his fault they're in trouble at all, he was behaving recklessly, but that doesn't mean the bad rep about him being selfish is deserved.

I love how Lucy refuses to believe it even in her moments of doubt and anger about Lockwood and sticks around to see for herself just how wrong everyone is about him. He's troubled, deeply so, and can be very stupid because of it but that doesn't erase the fact that he cares so so much.

Its sad how everyone, even people who can see the facade around Lockwood, simply pretend they don't. Barnes gets better by the end, seems to actually care about the trio. Yet its truly so sad how deeply Lockwood loves, he basically bleeds it and doesn't even try to hide it. The way he pushes people away begs of how much he wants to keep them close but is terrified to. And people keep reinforcing every awful thing he already thinks about himself, that he's unworthy, that its better if people leave him and SAVE THEMSELVES as if Lockwood is some harbinger of pain and death... his actual biggest fear.

Idk but I just have so many emotions about Lockwood wishing to sacrificing himself to save Lucy in this scene after withstanding god knows how long being tortured in an electric chair just because he can't stand the idea of someone he cares for, loves, getting hurt because of him.

#lockwood and co #locklyle #Anthony lockwood #Lucy Carlyle #Jonathan stroud #lockwood & co #lockwood and co Netflix

1K notes · View notes

rafaslittleboy · 7 months ago

Text

a hand to hold mine

pairing: sonny carisi/little sister!reader

description: sonny’s baby sister is a victim of a hostage situation. things come to light, and sonny considers what you are to him.

rating: dead dove don’t eat, dark fic, taboo fic. incest relationship between older brother and (legal) little sister. reader is taken hostage and sonny makes everything all better. hospital sex. bio brother/sister porn. fingering, clit rubbing, orgasms, loss of virginity, unprotected p-in-v sex, some dirty incest talk. (if I missed any out, let me know!)

if you’re sensitive, don’t read!

dc: @flowercrowns-goodvibes bc she wanted it sooooooo badly

When Carisi got the call that a girl, between the age of eighteen and twenty-two, had been caught in a hostage situation, Amanda had told him to come down immediately.

As an ADA, he barely got to go to hostage situations. But the perpetrator? He asked for Carisi specifically.

Someone he had crossed back in his detective days, by the looks of it.

As soon as Dominick arrived, he was given a bullet proof vest and Amanda filled him in on the situation.

Man, in his late thirties, has a record for pedophillia and murder, was let out on good behaviour only two weeks prior. His name was David Ortez—and Sonny was the undercover cop that built a case against him and put him away.

“it’s your sister, Sonny.” Amanda told him, sympathy in her tone.

“My… my sista’?”

What one? Was the question. He had four sisters, Bella, Theresa, Gina—and the baby sister, you. Just started college, your whole life ahead of you.

Amanda said your name and suddenly Carisi felt light headed. Bile rising in his throat.

“How long has she been in there?” He said, and he could barely hear himself.

“Almost an hour, listen… he’s done a number on her. He phoned nine-one-one every time he hurt her.”

Sonny clenched his fist. David Ortez was a disgusting man. When Sonny was undercover, that man told him in detail about the things he watched, things he done to his kids, his nieces and nephews. Things that made him sick then and made him sick now. And now he had you, his little sister, of all people.

“He’s phoning again.” Olivia raised her finger for everyone in the trailer to stop talking. She answered the phone.

“David?”

“Miss. Benson… it’s been a long time since we last spoke. How’ve you been? How’s Noah?”

David smiled into his phone. He watched through a blind spot in the window, watched how the building he was in was barricaded by armed police. Kept his eyes on the white trailer dead centre of the road.

“What do you want, David?” She spoke.

“I want to speak to Carisi.”

Sonny took the phone from Olivia’s hand despite her orders for him to stay quiet. He wasn’t a detective anymore, she said, you’re an ADA.

“I’m here.”

“Dominick.” The man smiled into the phone. “Got your baby sister here, she was stupid enough to help a poor… injured man.”

The way you became his hostage in the first place was because he had came up to you after your class, faking a stabbing. Spending the last two weeks stalking you, understanding your routine and schedule—and he got you at the right time. As soon as David got you into a room, he pistol whipped you and kicked you in your side to keep you down.

“She’s got a kind heart,” Sonny said, “how ‘bout you just let ‘er go? Huh? This is ‘tween you n’ me.”

“No can do, Dominick. Think I might keep her, actually. Take her abroad, get her pregnant, start a family with her. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”

David traced the gun up your temple, smirking down at you.

He had your hands tied behind your back and has you sat against the wall below the window. A strip of duct tape over your mouth.

And David had beat you well. Bruising littering your body, your nose bleeding and a gash in your forehead and eyebrow dripping blood down your face.

“No way in hell.” Carisi growled at the David.

“Am I on speaker phone?”

“Yes.”

“Take me off. Unless you want your squad to learn some real shitty stuff about you.”

Sonny looked around, Olivia, Amanda, Joe and everyone else who was in the trailer was looking at him.

Olivia gave him a nod of permission, and Sonny pressed the button on the phone. It was just Sonny and David now.

“Good. Don’t think I don’t remember what you told me. What I made you do.”

To gain David’s trust while Sonny was undercover, he had to befriend David. And David was paranoid, it took months for David to trust him.

“One thing,” David said.

“Anythin’” Sonny replied.

“Prove what you did to her. Your little sister? You told me you raped her since she was four. Looked through your wallet and you have a photo of her.”

“What about her?”

“Want you to jerk over her. Now.” And David passed Sonny the picture of you as a little girl. Sonny kept it in his wallet for a reason to keep going, to keep doing what he was doing.

Sonny held the picture between his fingers and he looked down at the picture of you. He swallowed, hard and looked at David and nervously smiled, “C’mon… I’m past that now.”

“I’m not giving you a choice.”

The picture was placed back in his wallet ten minutes later, stained with his milky cum.

Sonny hears you yelp, and he can’t imagine what David is doing to you. “Don’t touch her.”

“Why? Give me a reason not to rape her right now, Dominick.”

“She… she—I ain’t ever… done what I said I did. To her. I was undercover, had to learn more about ya.”

“Obviously. This little girl adores you; fairly obvious you didn’t do a thing you said you did.” And he tugs on your hair.

“You put me away, Dominick. Worked your way into my head and put me back in prison. Do you know what they did to me in there? Do you?!”

David yelled down the phone.

“David… I’m sorry, if it were up’ta me, it would’ve never of happened.”

“But that’s the thing, Dominick. You had a choice. And now, so do I. Life is all about making the right choices.”

You squeezed your eyes shut as the barrel of the gun stared back at you. Your breathing got worse.

“Theres two ways this can go. Put me back on speaker phone.”

Sonny done as he was told. Immediately.

“Option one: I shoot the little girl and then myself. You never get to see her again. You never get closure.”

David pauses. Sonny’s palms are sweaty. His heart beating out of his chest.

“Option two: You get me a car, you get me a million dollars and I take your little sister anywhere I want. And I promise you. I’ll keep her alive.”

Both options take you away from your brother. Away from your family, friends—the life you built.

“I’ll give you ten minutes to decide. And if you don’t? Well…” David took the safety off the pistol. “I’ll decide for you. Times ticking, Dominick Carisi.”

Then the line went dead.

Sonny threw the phone on the desk and wiped a hand down his face.

“I’ll get a car,” Olivia told him. “We have two Snipers are already aimed at the door, Sonny, don’t worry. We’ll get him.”

If only Sonny could believe that. He’s seen how some of these things go. How there’s no happy endings.

“It’s option two; we get a car, lure him out and shoot him dead.”

“Nah, no.” Sonny put a hand on his hips. “Could hurt her. I ain’t gonna hurt my lil’ sister.”

“Sonny, hurting her is the least of our problems. We want her alive, and we want her out. Now. This way, we get her out and she’ll be alive and she’ll be safe.”

Sonny bit his lip. Amanda was right. This was the only option they had to take. The only option Sonny could agree to.

“Call him back. We have a car on the way.” Olivia told him.

And sonny picked up the phone and dialled David back. David picked up within the first ring.

“Dominick. Your choice?”

“Two. I have a car on the way, we have your money. I know you, David, you… you stick to your word. I know you’ll take care’a my sister.”

“Good choice, Carisi. Knew you’d come to your senses. Hey, I’ll send you a postcard when she births my children. Don’t get too jealous.”

David watches as a black Jeep pulls up outside the barricade and how the police move around it, to give him space. “My money in that car, Carisi?”

There was no money. The objective out of this situation was to shoot David point blank.

“Yes,” Sonny replied. “It’s all in there. In a bag. Untraceable. The car’s untraceable, too.”

“Wow,” David smiled, “Really doing everything to protect your sister, eh? Do you remember when I made you look at a picture of her, made you jerk your cock over her?”

The phone was on speaker. Everyone could hear what David was saying.

“No.” Sonny swallowed. “I don’t.”

He does. It crosses his mind frequently.

“I do. I don’t blame you.” David lowers the phone to you, “Hey, sweetheart. You wanna say goodbye to your big brother?”

“S—sonny—“ you sob. And it’s the first time he’s heard your voice in months. He regrets leaving your text messages on delivered or read, he regrets not reaching out to you, calling you.

“Hey, doll,” he panics, he brings the phone to his ear. “You’re gonna be okay, doll, my little angel.”

“Of course she is, she’s gonna be my wife.”

David grabs your arm and pulls you up. “Bye, Carisi.” And he hangs up.

David brushes off your shoulder and smiled wickedly at you. “It’s just you and me now, little one. Your brother gave us his blessing.”

You start crying again. Closing your eyes just so you don’t have to look at this horrible man. In your little mind, he’s won. He’s going to take you god knows where and you’ll never get to see anyone you love again. You’ll never get to see your mom, your dad, your older sisters—your big brother.

He’s always been a busy man. Recently, after he came an ADA, he hadn’t had any time for you. It hurt you, but you were a big girl—you could understand that sometimes his job had to come first.

David ripped the duct tape from your mouth and tapped your bruised and cut cheek.

“Oh, don’t cry, baby.” David cooed, “it’ll all be fine soon enough. come on, start walking.”

David shoved you forward and put the gun at your spine. It was enough for you to do as you’re told. You walked, but you couldn’t feel yourself walk. It was as if you were floating.

David opened the door and the sun blinded you, your eyes flinched at the bright light.

Inside the trailer, Amanda was staring at the computer screen. “We have eyes.” Amanda yelled and Sonny didn’t waste any time and pushed past Olivia to leave the trailer.

He saw you, oh god, he saw you. You were there, alive. Breathing. His beautiful little sister.

“I want a clear pathway!” David yelled, “or the kid dies!”

Sonny was so close. He felt sick.

Sonny thought about how you grew up with him as your role model. He was in his late twenties when you were born, and his ma’ and dad were too busy with work so they handed you off to him. He raised you when they weren’t able to. His life with you flashed through his mind, like it was his last minutes with you. How you grew up to be a pretty little girl. How he isn’t so different from some of these men he puts away.

It’s a thought that he pushes to the back of his mind. A disgusting part of him that only comes out at night.

A part of him that wanted his little sister. And David knew that fact.

David walked down the steps with the gun to your temple. “Your brother is right there, front row seat. You wanna know that he’s real jealous of me right now. He knows that I’m going to fuck you real good, fill you up with my babies. He wants it to be him instead.”

You couldn’t see your brother—wherever he was. You couldn’t see anything. Your eyesight was blurry with tears.

David moves from behind you and walks in front, approaching the jeep.

Not even a second later, a loud gunshot rings out in the air. The bad man slumped to the ground in front of you. Your face splattered with his brains and blood, eyes squeezed shut.

Time went so fast, your ears rang.

Sonny shouted your name as he pushed heavy armed police out of the way and into the barricaded zone, where you were.

You felt arms wrap tightly around you, smooshing you against a broad chest. You recognise the feeling, the safeness of his arms. It was your big brother.

“Sonny,” your voice cracked as he held you tight, he breathed you in. You were here, you were alive, breathing. Hugging him tight to your body.

“S’okay, doll, m’right here.”

His hand cupped the back of your head and started to guide you into the police car just a few feet back. Blood on your face wasn’t a good look, the fear in your eyes made his heart hurt.

His little sister, a little girl he watched grow up, had a gun to her head because he put a rapist—murderer away a few years ago, and he got out early. It was all his fault.

The EMTS came over and tore you from his grasp, telling you that you’re going with them.

“I’m ridin’ with her,” Sonny tells them, “I need’a make sure she’s okay.”

“Okay, Counsellor.” They agreed. “We’ll let the other detectives know.”

———

You had passed out in the ambulance on the way to the hospital and the paramedics had to reassure him that you were okay, that your body probably just had to relax—so it forced itself to sleep.

It didn’t give him the peace of mind they hoped.

You were asleep for around six hours and Sonny didn’t leave your side once. The second you woke up, he sat up and held your hand to his chest.

“Hey—hey,” he weakly smiled, his hand extended and hesitated to touch your hair. “You okay?”

You coughed and looked around the room you were in. “How… did I get here?”

“Ambulance brought ya here, doll, ya passed out just after you sat down.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat. “I just… I was so scared. He… he said he’d shoot me, or he… he’d gut me. He said it all depended on your answers.”

Sonny tears up, and it stings his blue eyes.

“Oh, doll…” Sonny sat forward and kissed your forehead, lingering so you wouldn’t see the tears in his eyes. “M’so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” You tried to make him feel better, it wasn’t all the time you got to see him emotional.

“It is,” he says and he kisses your forehead repeatedly, “it is—my stupid work, brought ya into this.” and he holds you close, closing his blue eyes tight.

“i love you, sonny” you hiccup.

It was his emotional and vulnerability caused your own emotions to topple over, and you sobbed. Being in his arms, being with him, grounded you and made you understand that you were alive. You were safe. Your big brother saved you.

“I… “ and he doesn’t think, he just leans his chin forward and captures your lips in a soft, timid kiss.

A way a big brother should never kiss his little sister.

But he does it anyway. His big hand on your cheek keeping you close. Your eyes closed, any negative thought you had in your head disappeared as fast as they were thought.

“Was… “ Sonny swallowed, “was that okay?” he says below a whisper. Your eyes slowly open—your lips tingle with the aftermath of him giving you your first ever kiss.

You nod.

“Can… you kiss me again?”

Sonny didn’t expect you to ask for a kiss. He expected you to… well, do something else. Scream, yell, tell him to get out and that you’ll tell your parents. But no, you wanted him to kiss you again.

Sonny chuckled, then tilted his head to kiss you again. This time, with just a little more pressure than his previous feathery kiss. His hand came to cup the back of your head and press your lips harder into his.

As the kiss deepened and got more hot, he licked on the seam of your lips, opening your mouth to him. Taking advantage of your gasp, (obviously you had no idea that that was how real kissing started).

“what if a nurse comes in?” you say, breaking the kiss briefly. Your lips were swollen, breath uneven. Eyes blown.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it, babygirl.”

You felt his hands roam up and down your arm slowly, the arm that wasn’t hooked up to machines, that was. He leaned in to kiss you again, humming into your mouth as his slender hand dipped further and further down your arm and onto your thigh.

Sonny’s fingers touch your pussy tenderly outside of your little pink panties, his thumb twirling the little purple bow. Your soft moans as he kissed you just egged him on.

You broke the kiss briefly when you felt his finger slip into the waistband and slowly pulled your panties to the side, the cool air of the poorly conditioned hospital room hitting your hot pussy.

“‘M gonna touch it now, doll.” He whispered against your lips, and you barely had a second before the pad of his middle finger drifted upwards from your slick hole to your clit and he rubbed in slow, big circles.

“oh…” and your brows furred together.

It wasn’t as if you hadn’t touched yourself before, it was that no one had ever touched you before. It felt weird—and the wrongness and guilt of the person who was the first to touch you being your older brother was still deep in your tummy.

“You okay?” Sonny says softly. He knows he’s pushing his luck, kissing you after a traumatic experience and now he’s touching you inappropriately. Testing the waters on just how much you’d take what he’d give you.

You could barely nod, barely speak. “f—fine,”

“Feels good?”

And he puts just a little more pressure on your clit and watched how your knees parted open subconsciously.

“yeah,” you breathe.

He couldn’t miss how your eyes couldn’t stop watching from his hand moving between your legs.

Sonny’s eyes are fixed both on your face, how your face contorts to each repeat pleasure of the circles he drew on your clit. And how your hips roll ever so slightly on his finger.

His finger slipped in—and that’s one thing you hadn’t done to yourself. Your fingers had always been too short to reach anywhere. But Dominick’s fingers were long, and just one of them sliding inside you and crooking just enough to press down on something that made you whine what was meant to be his name.

“oh my god—“ you choke. And it’s too much too soon, the way his fingers leave your pussy and push back in and curl has your breathing quicken.

You don’t think—you turn your head and kiss him. Your mind so clouded with lust that you just knew you had to have his tongue in your mouth.

Making out with him sloppily as he speeds up his fingers inside you. The obscene sound of squelching filled the room and Sonny and yourself’s laboured breaths.

“Feels—“ you try but words fail you, “feels—“

“like ya gonna cum on ya big brothers fingers?” Sonny answers for you. He can feel your walls tighten on his fingers, feel how wet you have his hand and dampening the flimsy hospital sheets beneath you just by a simple finger-fuck.

You bite your lip and clench your fists, the orgasm building and building and building—until it burst, and you were cumming, hard, on your brother’s fingers. Squeezing and clamping down those two fingers that were still moving inside you. You moaned your older brother’s name, reaching down to clasp your weak hand over his wrist, puffing out of a breath.

“T—too much.”

Sonny smiles at you, “Doll, ya pussy just keeps tryna suck my fingers back in ya.” And he curls his fingers again and your knees cross, touching each other and thighs clamping down on his hand.

“Could make ya cum again, if ya want. See how you’d take three fingers.”

God, you didn’t know if you could take three of his fingers. His fingers were so long.

“Or… I could give ya my cock instead. Got me real hard after that little show, doll.”

Your mind was fuzzy.

“Please.”

And he smirked, withdrew his fingers from inside you and lifted his knee so he got onto the bed with you. On his knees above you, and he slowly undone his belt and pulled it through the loops.

All he had to do was pull down his fly and pull his cock out.

It wasn’t the first time you had seen Sonny’s cock, having to share a bathroom and your bedrooms across from one another. You had a fair amount of times of walking in on him changing, or in the showering, or pissing into the toilet bowl—only once while he was stroking his cock in the dark, you didn’t see it, but you saw the motions of his hand twisting around his hidden cock.

But you saw it now, hard and poking out from his fly just for you.

“can i… can i touch it?”

And Sonny glances at you, “Course,” and lifts your wrist so your hand replaces his. He bites back a groan but not even a second later it comes out when he feels your small, warm hand softly squeeze his hard cock.

“Jus’ like that, doll.”

You do it again, then you try and copy his previous hand movements by slowly stroking up and down his cock. Getting yourself used to the weird feeling. It looked like hard stone, but in your hand it felt squishy and stiff.

“Is… i think… your… thing… is crying,” you tell him

“Huh?” Sonny peaks open an eye and looks down. The red tip of his cock has a bead of pre-cum that’s threatening to spill out.

“Oh, doll. That ain’t my cock cryin’, means ya makin’ me feel real good.”

You smile slightly, “I like making you feel good, Donmy.”

Oh, god. He shouldn’t be feeling like this. But the things you done to him just by existing, being innocent, inexperienced. It made him hotter just thinking about how in that hospital room, he had been your first’s.

Sonny needed more. Craved more of you.

He softly wrapped his hand around your own that was still lazily pumping his cock. “M’gonna put it in ya,”

You looked up at him, and then at his cock. Oh, right, he wanted to put it in you. How could you even be surprised? The little videos you watched, the man always put his penis inside the girl. Now it was going to happen to you, a deep pit of nervousness settled in your tummy.

You wondered if you told him right now that you had never had sex, would he shy away? Leave you alone and never speak of it again?

Your rolling negative thoughts were stopped briefly when sonny shifted back and pushed up your hospital gown just over your hips. Your baby sister pussy on display for him. Wet and swollen from the orgasm he so generously gave you.

“That’s a good fuckin’ pussy I’ve ever seen one,” Sonny licks his bottom lip and dipped his hand down just to touch it again. His cock twitched as he inserted a finger again, so tight just around one finger—he couldn’t wait to feel it around his cock.

He quickly took his finger out and wiped your slick on his cock, along with a glob of his own spit. He knew he didn’t need any more lube, you were wet—so fucking wet for him. He loved, in particularly, your little button clit that was already puffy with arousal.

Your older brother had seen your pussy a few times growing up, when he had washed you, or helped you get changed. He was even there when you first started to experiment with touching yourself. He was only trying to give you your freshly clean clothes, but he stopped by the barely open door and was able to see just enough on how you unskillfully tried to rub your clit with one fingertip before giving up due to over sensitivity. The imagine was burned into his head, but he wasn’t complaining.

The tip of his bare cock bumped against said clit and you moaned, hips intuitively raising. Your pussy craved him—his cock—with the need to be filled.

It happened too quickly, Sonny angled his hips just right and pushed lightly against your hole. The feeling of a bulbous tip pressing against you was so good, hell, he watched as your pussy let out yet another streak of wet arousal.

But the second he started to push his hips forward had your heart in your mouth. “Sonny I… I’ve not—“

“‘know, doll,” is all he said back.

Dominick knew full well that he could get in a lot of trouble for this. Detective turned Assistant District Attorney, he knew quite literally all the laws in New York. This was against quite a lot of them. But it didn’t stop him.

He dipped his head to kiss you, swallowing your sounds.

There was no going back when the tip of his cock disappeared inside your virgin pussy. Popping the cervix open, claiming your virginity for himself. Your big brother’s head snapped up to look at your face when you let out a hissed moan due to the fact that his cock broke your hymen.

“You okay?” He breathed.

“Uh huh,” you moan, “it just… hurts a little.”

Sonny was happy he had got you as wet as you were, he couldn’t handle the thought of hurting you. Not unless you asked for it, that was.

Your pussy was so inviting, clenching so tightly around the thick mushroom head of his cock, trying to suck him in until there was nothing else left of him.

“Can I move, kid? Stuff you full’a me?”

And you nodded, “uh huh,”

Sonny bit at your lips, “Gonna need ya to use ya words, can ya do that? Speak up for ya big brother?”

Your walls throbbed, you needed him to fuck you. You needed him to hold you down and pound his cock inside you until it left you paralysed. Your body craved him, his hands and lips and everything about your brother.

And he pushes forward and you can’t stop the whine that escapes your throat, head tipping back only slightly against the hospital pillow as your pussy walls stretched to accommodate the foreign cock—your legs spread wider and Sonny immediately got comfortable.

“God, doll—fuck—“ and he slides right inside you, until the fabric of his dress pants settled against the back of your naked thighs. His full cock was inside you, stretching your walls until his tip was pressing against your untouched cervix. Any guilt he had previously faded away fast, his whole mind was focused on you. Solely you.

“You’re—all the way up here,” you choke and point to where your cervix would be on your tummy. Sonny roughly pushed up the gown over your exposed breasts, leaving you naked for him.

You heard him growl—growl—and it was the most attractive thing you had ever heard in your life.

“Yeah? M’ all the way up here?” And he pressed down where you pointed, and fuck, he felt himself settled deep inside you. He was able to feel the puckered tight hole of your cervix,

“Sonny—“ you moan, and it was loud. If it wasn’t early hours in the morning, someone would have definitely heard you.

“Beautiful lil’ girl—all mine, ain’t ya?” He growled as he started to thrust his hips. It was far too much for your poor cunt, still so sensitive over the orgasm he gave you before—every thrust of his cock inside you has a little spurt of liquid leaving your baby pussy and onto his cock and pants.

“All. Fuckin’. Mine.” He repeats as he feels your wet pussy dampen the crotch of his pants. Your mouth falls open, the arm that isn’t hooked up with wires reaches out to touch Sonny’s bicep to ground yourself.

“So—Sonny—you’re—my—“ and you’re already rendered dumb. Eyes barely able to stay open, unable to make a coherent sentence.

“Yeah, I’m ya big brother, ain’t I? Big brother makin’ ya pussy feel so good, huh?”

The hospital bed shook with the power of his thrusts, the sound of your wet pussy taking his cock over and over again filled the room. You had never imagined sex felt like this, always imagining it as an In-And-Out session.

His hand gripped your chin, “Answer me, doll.”

“Uh huh—yeah—you—you make my p—pussy feel really really good—“ you broke off into a moan as he gives you a thrust that’s hard, punching at your cervix and his balls right up against you.

And you nod, “so—so scared, tho—thought I’d—I’d never see you again.”

Sonny tips his head so his forehead, resting it against yours, his breath fanning across your lips with his efforts in fucking you. “Never gonna let that happen,” and he links your fingers together. “Gonna keep ya safe, keep ya just f’me—keep ya in my apartment, come home to ya everyday n’ fuck you deep every night.”

You moan at his words, “y-you’d do t-that?“

“My lil’ sister, love ya so fuckin’ much, my whole world.” He cuts himself off as he kisses you deeply, and you open your mouth to him and let him explore and get acquainted with your taste and the map of your mouth. “Gonna fill ya up with my cum, doll, hope it fuckin’ takes.”

Your breath hitches at the thought. Belly swelling with his baby—your big brother’s baby.

“Yeah? You like the thought a’ that? Dirty lil’ girl,” he smiles and then one of his hands came between you to rub, rub and rub on your clit and your back arched. “Need ya to squeeze my cock when ya cum, cum real hard f’me,”

“I—i—“ and he kisses you yet again, then you cum. Walls clamping down incredibly hard on his cock and liquid spurting from your pussy. Your orgasm was to powerful that it almost pushed his cock out from your hole, but Sonny pushed back in and fucked you hard through your orgasm.

“Fuck yeah, angel, squirt on my fuckin’ cock—gonna make me fuckin’ cum—“

And he fucked you rough, his cock pounding into you and the sounds you let out were downright pornagraphic.

Sonny squeezes you tight as he feels his orgasm reach its peak and he groans deep, head tipping onto your chest as he fucks his cum deep, deep inside you. Holding both of your hips down onto the bed and fucking you through the remainints of your orgasm and through his own.

You felt him slump down on-top of you, his heavy weight holding you down. You feel… like you’re in bliss, satisfied. Your thighs trembled slightly with pleasure that coursed through your whole body.

That is, until his stomach pressed down on the place you were kicked this morning.

“Ow..” you whine and Sonny quickly sits up, looking concerned.

“Did I hurt ya, doll?” and his hand lightly touches the red blotch of a bruise on your side.

“I’m okay,” you tell him, still breathless. Sonny checks you over anyway, his cock softening inside you as he does it.

Sonny pulls down your gown (after a subtle-not-so-subtle fondle of your breast) and smooths it over. Pulling his cock out of you at the same time, and you hissed at the new feeling of feeling empty.

Sonny wished he could see his cum drip out of you, but that could wait until next time. You needed to recover.

The crotch of his pants was wet with your orgasm, but he didn’t mind.

Sonny grabbed the blanket and pulled it over you, making sure to tuck you in and then settled beside you. “Gonna have ya stay with me for a lil’ while,” he says as he nuzzles into your side, his arm wrapped around you. “Afta’ today? I was… scared for ya.”

“Sonny…” you close your eyes. You hate what happened earlier.

“No, listen to me. Had a gun on me… was about’a go in there n’ shoot him dead before one’a the cops did. He hurt you.. my lil girl, harmed ya pretty face.” And he lifts his head and hand to stroke the few cuts on your cheek. “For peace of mind… I need ya to stay with me. Just for a while. Need’a know it’ll neva’ happen again.”

He held you close.

“what about… us?” You asked him. You just had sex with your brother, your older brother. And you really enjoyed it.

“What do ya want f’r us?” Sonny lifts his head to look you in the eyes.

“I dunno,” you trail off. “I… well, maybe we could… “

“Angel..” he smiles and cocks his head, “ya want me to be ya boyfriend?”

You bit back a smile. “you are my brother…”

“I know that, kiddo.” And he cranes his neck to press his lips to you. “we’ll figure it out, doll.”

#sonny carisi x reader #sonny carisi #law and order SVU #Dominick carisi #peter scanavino #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba

152 notes · View notes

alotofrandomfangirling · 1 year ago

Note

hi, could you do a x reader oneshot on live action Roronoa Zoro from the live action One Piece series!

Roronoa Zoro x reader oneshot (Netflix live action)

Summary: you tend to Zoro's wounds after he is hurt on a fight

Warnings: cursing, a bit suggestive, mentions of blood, me pretending to understand medical matters 🤡 (sorry about that, it was for fangirling purposes only ajskajakja)

A/n: hello anon! Thanks a lot for the request 🥰 this is probably set after s1? Sorry for any plot or grammar mistakes 🙏🏻 i hope you like it 🩷

The salty sea breeze hit your skin as you looked out the Going Merry trying to spot your friends.

The straw hats had left to a village to try to confront another crew. Apparently another annoying guy was threatening Luffy and he was not going to let that pass. It was stupid, you thought, but, when Luffy had something in mind, absolutely no one could convince him otherwise.

Luffy had asked you to stay on the ship in case anything happened. Being the crew's doctor, you had to be prepared for any emergency regarding the crew's well being.

Yep, you were the doctor in the straw hats crew.

You had met when Luffy saw you helping hurt people in the middle of a fight at the small island you lived. He was so impressed at how good you were, how you helped everyone with ability but also with a kindness in your eyes that he had never seen before in anyone.

Having lived your entire life with your doctor grandparents, you had learned from them and was just as skilled as them, so you were always ready to help those who needed.

But you were also a dreamer and wanted to go around the world meeting new people and new places, so when Luffy asked you to join his crew you happily said yes.

- we already have a navigator, a cook... we could use a talented doctor like you. I just know it's you. So, what do you say? - he asked, with that excited smile of his.

And that's how you became a part of this special crew. Everyone was so nice to you, so it didn't take much time for you to get along with them all, specially with their cute swordsman.

Yeah, it was like you clicked. You started getting closer, closer... and before you knew you were dating.

That's why you were specially worried today. You were really afraid your boyfriend was going to do something stupid and get himself hurt again (you still had nightmares about the whole Mihawk thing).

You were lost in your thoughts when you heard your friends coming back to the ship. You immediatly ran to check on them.

- is everyone okay? - you asked worried.

- we're fine, we were lucky. Can't say the same about your man over there - Sanji said and your heart dropped. What did this stubborn do this time?

- shut up, Sanji, i'm fine - you heard Zoro say as he entered the ship too.

You ran to him doing a quick check up with your eyes. That's when you noticed the big red stain on the side of his shirt.

- oh my gosh, Zoro, you're bleeding! - you said terrified.

- this? Nah, this is just a scratch - he said shrugging and trying to play tough, even though you could clearly see he was in pain.

- no, it's not! - you said, in a stern way - come on, we have to bandage you up.

You carefully led him inside and brought your medical kit to start tending to his wounds. He sat down as you began.

- take your shirt off - you ordered.

- Wow you're that eager, huh? - he said smirking, but instantly regretting and wincing with pain.

- Zoro! Will you stop being a brat and let me take care of you? - you said angrily - i can see you're in pain and you're not going anywhere until we fix that up!

You were usually a very chill person, but you couldn't stand seeing your friends and loved ones in pain. That activated a side of you people were even a bit scared of lol

- okay, boss - he said, a bit annoyed but finally giving up.

The way he called you 'boss' made you feel all tingly inside. You were sure going to have to talk to him about it later (and maybe share some ideas 👀) but now it wasn't the time. You had a wound to treat.

He took his shirt off and you couldn't help but take in a sharp breath at the sight (even though you had seen it before lol). Boy was sure shredded.

Focus, (Y/N).

You checked him and noticed he had a knife wound just above his hip. It was ugly, but you could do it.

You grabbed a piece of cloth to start cleaning the wound.

- my love, i apologize in advance, but this is going to hurt.

You started the cleaning.

- shit, that hurts! - he hissed.

- i know, i'm sorry.

You knew you had to do it, but you couldn't stand seeing the man you loved suffering like that. You had to distract him out of it so you could finish your work.

- umm baby, could you tell me again about that time you beat three pirates at once with only one sword?

- what? Now? Why? - he looked so cute furrowing his brows in confusion.

- it's just that... i like to work listening to your voice - you quickly made that up lol

Well, it wasn't totally a lie, you did enjoy listening to his voice, but of course it was mostly to keep him distracted ajskjakaja

He was still a bit suspicious but started telling the story since you asked him (trust me, there was nothing you asked Zoro he wouldn't do for you). Your strategy worked cause you cleaned the wound and bandaged it without him wincing too much.

By the time he finished the story, you had finished your work too. You also gave him some painkillers for him to feel better soon.

- there you go - you said softly and kissed his forehead.

He closed his eyes and melted under your touch, not only because of how tired he was, but also because he felt super safe with you.

- thank you, (Y/N) - he said squeezing your hand.

You smiled at him.

- now please lay down and try to rest a bit, or this thing won't heal - you said in a stern tone, but nearly begging for your boyfriend to take care of himself.

You gathered your medical stuff and were starting to leave the room when he said:

- (Y/N), wait!

- what is it? - you asked, worried he was starting to feel pain again.

- I... I might not be feeling 100% yet. I think you should stay and lay down with me just in case it gets worse - he said in a really nonchalant way.

You rolled your eyes at his completely obvious attempt, but couldn't help smiling and blushing a bit at the thought of the great Roronoa Zoro wanting you to stay with him.

- you're the worst, Zoro - you said playfully as you carefully laid down next to him and put your hand on his chest.

- yeah, but you love me - he replied with that smug smile of his and that deep voice that drove you crazy.

You chuckled at his response.

- yes, I do - you said smiling.

His next words came out merely a whisper, but were enough to give you a thousand butterflies in your stomach:

- and I love you more.

#roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #one piece live action #one piece x reader #roronoa zoro fanfiction

797 notes · View notes

mitch-the-silly · 8 months ago

Note

Hi! I'd love anything Husk related. My heart bleeds for this guy ♡

Drunk Husk confessions

Husk has a nightmare about lover and comfort

Husk can't find his crush after the extermination

His crush falls asleep on him during movie night with everyone

Any or all of them. Whatever you have time for. Thank you! ♡>.<♡

Hiiiii!! I cannot begin to express how much I love Husk, man. He's my favorite character in Hazbin (it's actually a tie between him and Vox bc Vox is so baby girl, but I digress). I'll gladly write for him any day!!!

I decided to do Scenarios about three of these (I sorta combined two of them because I liked the idea of Husk getting protective over his lover; you'll see o^o) because I just CANNOT get enough of this silly cat old man <3!!

Also, hope you don't mind I made this gender-neutral since no gender was specified! HOPE YOU LIKE IT!

Warnings (just in case): Nightmares, emotional manipulation, buildings burning down, implied harm to a loved one, Alastor being a bit of an asshole.

Husk x gn!Reader

Scenarios!

Scenario 1: Drunk Confessions

It was very late, and you presumed that the hotel's bar was closed, but fuck it. You figured that sitting on the stool wouldn’t hurt. You couldn’t quite sleep but could anyone blame you? It’s not like they’d kick you back into your room. So you descended the stairs in hopes that the hotel lobby would be more inviting and lacking in boredom, unlike your current room. Now this boredom was not to be mistaken for a dislike for the room itself.

You made your way towards the bar area. Since the entire lobby was very dimly lit, you couldn’t see much, but only when you heard a noise from behind the bar, did you proceed with caution. The clanking of bottles alerted you but the moment you saw those white claws and that pair of red wings, you let your guard down. With a slight smile, you approached the bar, a chuckle escaping your lips.

Emerging from behind the counter, Husk stumbled a bit, clearly drunk out of his mind. Admittably, it was quite adorable to you. The dazed look he gave you.

He squinted and hicked, suddenly realizing who he was looking at. “Fuck, don’t… ya scare me like that…” He slurred as he leaned on the countertop.

“You’re fucking fried aren’t ya?” You chuckled at him.

Husk gazed at you, then looked down at his hands. Feeling himself get a bit dizzy, he let out a drunken laugh. “Y-yeah~” He spoke with a stupid little smirk.

You couldn’t take him seriously when he was drunk. But you culdn’t help but stay here with him. “So, what’s on your mind, Husk?” You asked him. You know, just for funsies.

“Honestly…” He slurred, pausing for about three seconds, “Right now… I was just thinkin’ right now... that there’s a cute person in front of me… and that I wanted to buy them a drink… but then… then I thought… ‘Fuck… I can’t buy ‘em a drink… I’m the mother funkin’ bartenda’!’ It fucking… it fucking pissed me off.” He dunkenly complained. His eyes looking up at you since you sat atop the stool and he didn’t. His pupils were extremely dilated and his gaze seemed like one of absolute adoration. But it could also be how drunk he was.

The mere implication of his complement made you blush, but you tried to keep your composure, “Why aren’t you bold?~” You chuckled at him. “If you weren’t so cute, I would be able to resist those Kitty eyes.~”

He pouted at your comment, “You’re a damn angel…” He slurred, after which he let out a stupid little giggle to himself.

“Oh, you’re the one witht he wings, baby~” You chuckled, leaning over to place a kiss on his cheek.

He froze in place, his face red as a beet. His pupils dilated again and he involuntarily let out a purr at it. Reaction which (even while intoxicated) he hated. He drunkenly hit his chest as if scolding his body for reacting that way. ‘Stupid fucking… cat body…” He muttered, maintaining his slur.

You giggled at this; it was sure going to be a hell of a story to recount to him tomorrow.

Scenario 2: Husk has a nightmare about his lover + Comfort

It began with darkness. Of course, it did. Last he remembered was closing his eyes in some way. He was bound to be alright, he figured. But boy was he mistaken.

He was finally able to open his eyes. Before him, a fire had broken out. But it wasn’t just any arbitrary fire, the Hotel was on fire. It didn’t quite register in his mind just yet, but the building was violently burning down. Everyone around him was in a panic and he moved with them. But not by mandate of his body. It was as if he didn’t have control of himself. Just then, he snapped into consciousness, he began to think properly. He couldn’t find them. Where were they? His lover… He stopped at the hotel’s main entrance and instead of running out like everyone else did, he turned around immediately.

Running back inside, he called out their name at the top of his lungs. The smoke was engulfing him. And just as he was about to give up and assume you’d made your way to safety, he heard their cry for help. Not wasting a second, he ran from where he could hear it: the second floor. They were probably stuck up there. He had to save them. He just did.

He used his wings, flying up and landing on the very few unharmed spots of the blazing carpet. He called their name out again, he couldn’t find them and every second that passed in which he did not lay eyes on them, he grew more and more anxious. Finally, upon receiving a response to his frantic cries, he found you.

Before him not only was not only the love of his life but the person he held rancor for the most… Alastor. The Radio Demon held you in his grasp, dangling you over the fire. Laughing maniacly as he stared right into Husk’s eyes. With his most intimidating voice, the overlord spoke to him. “You should know much better than to defy me, Husker.~ You wouldn’t want your little darling to suffer the consequences of your transgressions, now would you?” He taunted. “You let go of them! My soul’s the one that’s yours, not theirs. You ain’t got no right to harm her!” Husk exclaimed.

Alastor laughed as if he’d heard a joke. It was obvious he didn’t take Husk’s words seriously. “You’re quite mistaken, my friend~. I can do as I please!” He responded.

The hotel burned brighter, and before Husk could say anything else, Alastor threw them into the fire. Husk tried to jump in to save them. But his body didn’t move. As much as he tried to move it, he wasn't in control of himself anymore.

Alastor cackled, “You belong to me, I’ll be damned if I don’t teach you the way things are!” He grasped at the air. Husk’s chains manifesting around his neck. They cut the airflow, and he clawed at the shackle on him. Desperately trying to breathe. He closed his eyes, still attempting to break himself free.

When he opened his eyes again, he saw the ceiling of his room. He panted as he calmed down, feeling a gentle hand beside him. He turned to his side, his lover beside him. The second he realized they were safe and sound, he knew what he’d just witnessed was a dream. No, not a dream. A nightmare.

“Husk, are you ok? Were you having a nightmare?” They asked him, reaching to caress his face. Without a second thought, Husk placed his face in their hand. The comfort of their touch significantly calmed him.

“I… I don’t want to talk about it… But… I’m glad you’re safe.” Husk muttered, reaching to plant a chaste kiss on their forehead.

His lover smiled, “Of course I’m safe. And hey, you don’t have to tell me anything… Just know I’m here for you, ok?” They mumbled, kissing his cheek in reciprocation.

“I… can I hold you…?” Husk asked, his voice a bit shaky. As if it was the only thing that would make him feel better.

“Of course…” They chuckled, a gentle smile on their face. Husk drew them closer to him. Holding them in his arms. There, right there was the one place he knew they’d be safe.

Scenario 3: Husk's crush falls asleep on his shoulder during movie night

If there was an activity everyone at the hotel loved to participate in was “Friday Night Movie Night”. Of course, it was something that had taken Charlie some time to establish, since she took a long time to filter out the movies she deemed went against the hotel’s goal, but alas, she made it happen.

So today was Friday, 7 pm hit and everyone knew exactly where to gather. The lobby was crowded (by the five employees and two guests) with souls waiting to relax after a week’s worth of work toward redemption. Angel set up a blanket, and in his pajamas, he lay down in front of the old TV (a spot he was willing to fight someone over). He held Fat Nuggets (a baby hell hog Angel loved like a child of his own) in his slim arms as he waited for the movie. It wasn’t his turn to pick the movie, so he didn’t care much what they watched. Nifty was often times very easily distracted, but she was willing to sit for a movie for sure (or at least half of one). Sir Pentious on the other hand, always sat through them, marveling at the videography of each film. As for Charlie and Vaggie, well, they always cuddled next to each other while they watched the movie. Most of the time it ended with Charlie falling asleep on Vaggie’s shoulder, or in the opposite scenario, with Vaggie lightly snoring on Charlie’s shoulder. As for old Alastor, well… let’s say he was more fond of other mediums of entertainment and chose not to join them. But there was one sinner who would always watch from the foot of the lobby’s couch: Husk. He’d normally end up falling asleep during movie night, but he had nowhere better to be, so he simply attended them without issue.

However, on this particular Friday, they had a newcomer. A new guest who despite having about three weeks in the hotel, hadn’t attended a movie night. They swore it was never out of disinterest. Forgetfulness was truly a curse they had. So today, they’d asked Angel to remind them that it was movie night, and Angel sure kept his word. So there they were, trying to decide where to sit as everyone waited for Charlie to pick a movie.

They looked around. The simplest option would be to sit with Angel, but… what if they didn’t? Charlie had encouraged them to socialize more with the employees and guests, and they liked to believe that they spoke to everyone quite well. But even they had to admit that it wasn’t quite true. There was one sinner in particular that they didn’t talk to as much as they hoped and it was Husk. So, the obvious decision was to sit next to him. And it was exactly as they did.

As they chose the spot next to him, setting up their blanket and pillow, Husk turned to them. Almost a bit surprised anyone would choose to sit by him.

“Hi Husk, ya mind if I sit here?” They asked.

“Not at all, go ahead.” He responded casually. He couldn’t help but smile ever so slightly. Unable to contain the soft spot he had for them.

“I found one! What about The Sound of Music?” Charlie exclaimed, immediately getting a groan from Angel Dust. But he didn’t care enough to elaborate on his complaint.

“I think that’s a great option, sweetie.” Vaggie reassured, smiling at her in agreement.

And without another thought, Charlie inserted the VCR into the VCR player (anything newer and Alastor would freak and destroy it himself), turning off the lights and immediately running back to sit next to Vaggie.

Y/n sat comfortably, their eyes glistening in the TV’s dim light. Husk couldn’t help but admire the gorgeous sight for a second. But alas, the movie progressed. The musical numbers already too bearable due to Charlie’s daily song outbursts.

About mid-way through the movie, however, was when Y/n started getting a bit tired. They scoot a bit closer to Husk, their eyes tempting to give in to the exhaustion. Until finally, their eyes closed and they leaned gently on Husk’s shoulder. His cheeks flushed red as he looked around to see if anyone was witnessing this. Upon seeing no one noticing this, he took their blanket and covered them gently. He’d rather not wake them up, they looked so entrancingly precious this way. So he continued watching the movie, smiling at the soft sound of your gentle breathing. He could stay like this forever. He definitely wouldn’t change this for anything in the world.

Eventually, he himself felt as if he was going to give in to his own tiredness and ended up losing the battle against himself. Husk closed his eyes and leaned his head on yours. Slumbering away, your breathing lulling him to sleep.

Needless to say, the second Charlie saw this, she ran to get the camera. She had pictures of it and she would never even dream of getting rid of them. To her, a moment of peace like this was proof that the hotel was definitely working.

280 notes · View notes

indigos-stardust · 3 months ago

Text

Violet, Blue, And Bruised All Over: MOOOOM VIO BIT MEEEE-

ᶠᵒʳᵍᵉᵗ ᵛᶦᵒˡᵉᵗ ʰᵉ'ˢ ᵛᶦᵒˡᵉⁿᵗ, ᶜᵃⁿ ʷᵉ ˢᵉˡˡ ʰᶦᵐ ᵗᵒ ᵗʰᵉ ᵃⁿᶦᵐᵃˡ ˢʰᵉˡᵗᵉʳ

sorry for being so late lol, reblogs and comments appreciated <3 I like hearing y'all's thoughts

Part 1/ Part 2 / Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5

The two boys sit bruised and scratched. They had to remove their shirts to let Green "assess the damage."

Red's returned with their home medical kit. Quickly apologizing for taking so long, Red quickly excuses himself to get some ice to aid the swelling as soon as his bumbling fingers lay out the basic bandages and disinfectant by Greens spot on the coffee table.

Blue feels his heart sink lower. He really just left. Red left. He doesn't blame him. Red hates conflict, especially when its between them. Before Red went upstairs, the boy had shot him one last look, before scurrying up. He was disappointed. Deeply hurt by Blue. That after all the conversations and love and care he'd been given, he'd just callously screwed it up or something. It was stupid and it made Blue want to bash his head into the floor.

Vio starts to stand, seemingly to leave entirely, it carries that same air of being better than everyone else and- Well, as much as Blue has always hated it, it shows self control over the situation. He isn't cowed and he isn't some child that's going to be rightly chastised like Blue is.

Green roughly snatched Vio's arm, so fast it was almost a slap, and yanks him back down. Vio sits.

Red, from his view watching from above the stairs, would have genuinely had a lot more anxiety over the tension and fighting if he didn't want to do the same towards both of them. And it was Green doing it to, not just some school teacher or superior knight. There would be no escape for the broken and the bruised.

Vio can feel Green's eyes searing into him. He refuses to meet them. Green's hands move and turn parts of him to check the worst of it. He tsks at the inflammation at the base of his ear where Blue had yanked it. Grumbles at the long bleeding scratches from glass that's still in his skin. The cleaning alcohol burns. He endures it.

At some point Blue reaches out to the medical kit, likely to start taking care of himself instead of quietly waiting for Green to finish tending to Vio's. Or maybe to save himself from the aggressive cleaning process that even Vio struggles to restrain his winces of pain to.

His hand is smacked just as quickly. Both Blue and Vio know what the other knows. And that is that Green is becoming more tense. Blue hates this. Green's finished up with Vio and grimly begins accessing Blue in the same cold cut manner. Shock colors his face, until its replaced with a dark scowl. A touch of disbelief still resides though. He must've found the bite mark. Because Vio bit him like a fcking animal.

Eventually the hard stings and pressure resides, as the last of the gashes and cuts are firmly bandaged. Green's not the best at this sort of thing, Blue has always been better, the ties and bandages will probably come undone before its ready. Blue doesn't dare mention it.

Green slumps over, so much tension leaving all at once. It almost shocks Blue for a moment, thinking Green had fallen. Green's head hands low, his messy bangs covered his face, ears hanging low. One of his hands covers his face, seemingly too exhausted to know what to do anymore.

"I'm going to give you both one chance to explain."

Green rises, staring at the ceiling as he dips backwards, resting hs body weight on his arms behind him, "I don't know what Vio said or why Blue felt the need to punch in response but-"

OH HE KNEW THIS WOULD HAPPEN- Blue always gets blamed for everything!

"He's the one who PUNCHED ME?!" Blue can't help it- Clenched first raise to his heart and anger has started up again- He can't just sit there a single moment more he can't he can't he can't-

Green's head snaps up, posture upright once more. With slightly raised shoulders and cautious look he briskly locks eyes with Blue. Red gasps, halfway down the stairs in the distance. Blue can hear the relief, and immediately his heart rests, even if just a bit. Red believed him.

Red shares a growing confused look with Green.

Ever so slowly, Green's eyes trail towards the silently stoic and stubborn blonde that hadn't spoken a single word. Vio stares ahead, drilling a hole into the wall, with that quiet intensity that has always unsettled him.

The moment of uncertainty makes Blue's head buzz, heart pumping full of adrenaline for some unknown reason. The moment before battle, when you wait for your enemy's first move.

"I did."

Green jaw drops. Red squeaks out a strangled noise of shock.

"Vio," Green starts, "Wha- Why? WHY??"

"He deserved it."

The icy phrase spears through his gut, twisting cruelly. The burning nearly doubled within seconds. An icy blast tears through his insides and spreading- If he doesn't move now he'll be consumed before he even processes anything.

"I DIDN'T do anything wrong!" It's nearly spit out, his face in an ugly death stare. Blue forces himself to not say more or burst out in loud yells or punches. That's how he always wins.

A swift uncaring response as Vio begins studying his nails, "Except exist apparently."

OH LISTEN YOU LITTLE FU-"

But before Blue can strangle him, Green grips their shoulders and forces them apart. Blue's chest is heaving and Vio is grimacing as he tries to pry off or at least ease the tight grip Green has them in. It is. Very, very tight.

Two seconds pass and it's clear they've both shut up. Not without giving each other dirty looks of course.

So they're bandaged up. Vio probably doesn't have a concussion. His wrist could use some work though. Blue is probably hopefully not going to get rabies and his nose doesn't seem.. too broken. Neither get a full potion. The deeper cuts become more shallow, but the potion only takes care of the worst. Their bruises are even more inflammed now with the passage of time, red turning to dark purples and blues. Green would love the irony if he wasn't still fuming.

Green tells them both to head to bed.

But before anyone can do anything Red appears, ever the peacemaker, "Hahaha- OKAY, uhm so-."

It's clear Red is trying to make his way into the situation and try to do some damage control. One hand a soft pressure on Green's shoulder, and the other holding his hand as he anxiously looks between all of them.

"No ones even eaten dinner yet! So, you know, we should probably make some food and could we please just take a break and talk about how everyone feels-"

Green cuts him off, softly this time, deflated but not defeated, "We can make something quick for ourselves. They need to go right now."

There's something about the tone, maybe the exhaustion, the pain? But there is a gentleness and understanding with compassion for Red. And a silent plea.

Red is visibly dispirited and disheartened but seems to accept it, nodding mutely.

Green embraces Red.

Green blankly hands them their bloodied tunics and shirts, before tilting his head towards the stairs to gesture they leave.

Vio leaves before Blue does, so before Vio makes it beyond halfway up the stairs, Green calls his attention for a moment.

Why out of all people was Vio the one who started it? Why would he ever do that?

Vio's response is the same. "He deserved it."

Blue somberly mutters something about how he was just saying about how Vio could lift his weight on chores for once.

Vio is gone. Red is conflicted and hurt. Blue only just starts to say sorry, but Green is already telling him to just g o.

Blue does.

Slow heavy steps echo through the house as they head upstairs and to their separate rooms.

Red hates fighting. It was too late, there was nothing to say anymore.

He still cries though.

He tries to be strong.

Green needs him tonight.

#four swords #fs #blue link #vio link #green link #red link #lmso I love being mean to them #my art #fs art #four swords manga #four swords art #fs vio #fs blue #fs red #fs green #pov shadow watching like wth is wrong with these guys #color spectrum #fs color spectrum

65 notes · View notes

dreamwavesexploringreality · 1 month ago

Text

TRAITOR:

Niragi x reader

Requested: Niragi feels betrayed when his once-close ally sides with Chishiya to rebel against the Militants.

TW: Violence, Emotional manipulation, Physical abuse, Gun violence, Murder, Death threats, Betrayal.

If you asked Y/N what she regretted in her life, she would have a clear answer. She would say she regretted trusting that man, getting caught up in his charms, and betraying the only person who truly mattered to her. She would also say that she wished she had listened to Niragi when he warned her about the blonde, and even though she didn’t expect him to forgive her, she prayed that at least he would know her intention had never been to hurt him.

She had spent enough time in The Beah to start feeling comfortable there. She wasn’t stupid; she didn’t believe in the ideology that underpinned the principles of The Beach, nor did she trust the words of that eccentric man who called himself The Mad Hatter and was obsessed with loyalty. She also didn’t believe there could ever be anything or anyone that would make her reconsider all her convictions. But above all, she could never have imagined that she would betray the man she considered her friend, her other half. Her soulmate.

Soulmates don’t have to resemble each other to be one. Y/N was convinced of this since Niragi was the most different person she had ever known. Still, amidst their differences and disagreements, she always found her safe place in him. Whether in his arms during a particularly cruel game night, resting in his lap at the pool bar, or playing in the water on his back… they were made for each other; everyone in The Beach knew it. And he did too.

Chishiya had no particular interest in the girl, in the woman who had arrived at The Beach gates drenched in blood and struggling to balance on one leg. “Obvious contusion accompanied by visible bleeding,” Chishiya diagnosed from his position on the terrace. However, what caught his attention was the garment covering her torso: a shirt with an irregular pattern of black and white splotches resembling a leopard's skin. Chishiya would recognize that shirt anywhere, and alarms would ring in his head, but this time, the wearer of that singular garment sparked a deep curiosity within him that needed to be satisfied.

Days later, he learned that Niragi had saved her life in a game, staying behind to ensure that no one followed them. It seemed to have been a brutal game of hearts, one in which only two especially intimate people could have survived. The pieces of the puzzle quickly fell into place in the blonde man's mind, and he immediately recognized the power he held in his hands and was ready to use it.

Kuina had always been a good pawn. A charming, sociable, and friendly woman who could easily disarm anyone’s mental alarms. So it was no surprise when the woman, who he learned was named Y/N, opened up to her and told her her entire story. Niragi and Y/N, Y/N and Niragi… that’s how it had always been, and they hoped it would continue that way… Chishiya chuckled at the mere thought.

It didn’t take long for him to convince her that the best option to escape this dystopian world was to steal the cards. His theory made sense, and using Niragi as a pawn, he had the girl eating out of his hand.

“It’s the only way to get back to the real world. You can be with him and not fear that he’ll drop dead every time you blink,” he told her in a firm voice. Kuina trembled at his words.

Later, that new couple also wanted to join the plan. At first, they were reluctant, but Chishiya ensured they wouldn’t influence the girl’s mindset by feeding her each night with the worst possible scenarios for her life and Niragi’s. If she wanted to save herself, if she wanted to save him, she had to follow his plan.

By the time the strategy took shape, Y/N had already distanced herself from Niragi. She no longer went to their nightly meetings or waited for him in the dining hall to have breakfast together. She avoided contact with him since she knew, deep down, that what she was doing went against everything he stood for, and if he found out, he would stop her from continuing with it. She wouldn’t allow that. No matter how much it hurt to ignore the man and turn away every time he desperately searched for her with his gaze, she was doing it for him because she loved him and it was his life she wanted to protect.

A few nights before the big day, Niragi surprised her at her door and without giving her a chance to protest, pulled her inside, closing the door behind him.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he said aggressively as he approached the girl who, startled, fell onto the bed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replied robotically, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear and keeping her gaze on the floor.

“It’s that blonde, isn’t it? I’ve told you a thousand times to stay away from him, but you never listen to me, and you’ll pay the consequences,” he shouted.

A few seconds of silence passed, during which tears began to fill the girl’s eyes. Perhaps it was the familiar scent or the tone of his voice, but her heart tightened in her chest, and she was on the verge of breaking down, of throwing herself into his arms and promising him she would never betray him. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t because a gentle knock at the door brought her back to reality. She was doing this for him.

Niragi opened the door, huffing with displeasure and frustration, facing the blonde man who had decided to meddle in his life and mess everything up.

“Oh, I didn’t know you were here. I was looking for Y/N,” Chishiya said in a calm voice, false surprise gracing his features along with a lazy smile. Of course, he knew Niragi was there; he had seen him pull his toy in with aggression, locking himself away with her in the room, probably trying to convince her of the mistake she was making by associating with him. He wasn’t going to allow that.

Chishiya playfully tilted his head to observe the girl sitting on the bed, frozen in place, probably having a mental breakdown.

“Y/N? Shall we go?” he said sweetly, extending his hand to urge her to come closer to him.

To Niragi’s surprise, the girl stood up and walked past him without looking at him. He felt her hand brush against his arm unintentionally and knew, call it intuition, that he had lost her.

The Niragi Chishiya knew would have chased him down the hall to reclaim what he considered his, but when he turned his head, he saw Niragi frozen in the doorway. Chishiya smiled, savoring the taste of his victory on his tongue.

And then it happened. Chishiya sent Arisu to enter the Mad Hatter’s suite while Y/N, Kuina, and Usagi kept watch at different points. He remained secure in a protected spot where he would never be incriminated if something happened. If you asked Chishiya, he would say he never intended for them to get caught. Yes, he had given Arisu a code that would undoubtedly trigger the alarm in the room, and yes, he had left Y/N in a particularly vulnerable position, but there was always a chance they wouldn’t be discovered, in which case the outcome for him would be the same as if Y/N and Arisu were caught and declared traitors.

Chishiya wasn’t surprised when he heard the alarm and rushed to feign concern to the higher-ups. He also wasn’t surprised to see all the Militants mobilizing to check what was happening in the Hatter’s room. What did surprise him was feeling a minimal, almost nonexistent, pang of guilt that intensified when he entered the room and saw the woman being violently held by one of the Militants.

Thinking clearly, Y/N had just been a pawn in his game. But it was Niragi’s expression that made him reconsider, for a brief moment, whether it should have been that way.

“Thanks for letting us know, Chishiya,” Aguni said, to which the man simply smiled and nodded.

For his part, Niragi, upon seeing Chishiya enter the high-ranking officers' room to inform them anxiously and agitatedly that the alarm was going off in the Hatter’s room, knew something was definitely wrong. His thoughts led him to the worst possible scenario, which became even worse when he entered the room and saw the woman he considered his soulmate being kicked on the floor.

At that moment, the world he knew crumbled into pieces, raising a cloud of dust that clouded his thoughts. He heard the girl’s cries, but for some reason, his vision was blurred, and he couldn’t see her. The rifle in his hands felt light, so light that he stopped feeling it, and when it fell to his feet with a dull thud, he returned to reality.

“Niragi, take these two traitors away. You know what to do,” Aguni ordered.

The man acted automatically, grabbing the girl by the arm as she writhed in his grip and dragging her out of the room. Behind him, two more men grabbed Arisu, who was nearly immobile from the beating, and hurried to follow. Niragi's feet carried him to his room. Maybe he sought the comfort of laying her down on his bed, holding her close, and waking up to realize it had all been a nightmare—but it wasn’t. The girl’s sobs assured him it was real, so real that it was probably the end of everything.

He sat the girl in a chair while the other men tied Arisu to another one with tape. Niragi positioned himself in front of Y/N, holding her firmly down by the shoulder, though there was no need since she had stopped struggling, and now only a steady stream of tears flowed down her cheeks, her gaze fixed on the wall in front of her.

“There, that’s it,” the men laughed as they finished tying Arisu up. “Want to do it?” They offered the tape to Niragi.

The man simply shook his head, watching as Arisu tried to keep his eyes open. He vaguely heard the men continue mocking the boy.

“Don’t you know what happens to traitors? Have you forgotten the rules? Let’s remind you: Death to the traitors!” Niragi felt the girl shudder under his hand, still resting on her shoulder, and her sobs grew louder.

“Get out,” he said suddenly, his voice hoarse and dry from holding it in for so long. It trembled slightly, and he feared it wasn’t authoritative enough to make the two militants leave the room.

Luckily, it was. The two men left, laughing and throwing threats about what was to come.

“Niragi will take care of you.”

“Say your goodbyes.”

When the door closed, the air in the room grew even heavier. Without looking at the girl, he removed his hand from her shoulder, already longing for the contact. He looked over at Arisu, who, despite his pitiful state, still glared at him defiantly. Niragi sighed and met Y/N’s eyes, from which tears still flowed steadily as she stared ahead. Niragi crouched in front of her and tried to wipe the endless flow of tears with his thumbs.

“Shh, shh... I know... I know, calm down. I’m here. Don’t cry, I’m here,” Niragi whispered. He didn’t notice Arisu turn his head, watching in surprise. “It’s okay... just calm down.”

A few minutes passed until the girl’s breathing became more or less steady, and the tears finally ceased. Niragi remained in that position the whole time, and when he saw she had calmed down, he stood up and gently stroked her head. Then he walked across the room to where his rifle rested against the wall. When Y/N saw the movement and the deadly weapon, she began to tremble again, on the verge of breaking down once more. Niragi noticed the change in her behaviour and walked slowly back toward her, trying to appear as non-threatening as possible, the rifle pointed at the ground. When he reached her, he crouched down again, running his fingers through her hair once more and this time leaning closer to her face. He kissed her softly, holding her with the arm that wasn’t holding the weapon. Niragi clung to that kiss, tasting the salt of her tears, and wished it would last a lifetime. But it didn’t. He slowly pulled his lips away from hers, and with tenderness, he turned her face to whisper in her ear.

“Close your eyes,” he murmured.

The girl started shaking her head frantically, hyperventilating and sobbing once again.

“Shh... shh... close your eyes, darling,” Niragi insisted softly, trying to still her movements.

With a shaky sigh, the girl did as he asked. She was tired of pretending, of carrying this burden that had weighed her down for weeks. She felt his touch leave her skin and heard her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Her breathing grew even heavier as she finally accepted the fate that awaited her, fighting the instinct to survive. She squeezed her eyes shut even tighter and tucked her hands beneath her thighs. She wouldn’t fight, she wouldn’t resist him. “What would be the point?” she thought. After all, everything she did, she did for him.

Two loud gunshots echoed through the room. And then, silence.

…

Sometime later.

Niragi knew very well the meaning of betrayal and its consequences. As a militant, he had sworn to protect The Hatter and act against anything that threatened The Beach’s hierarchy. He obeyed orders without questioning or probing beyond what he was told. Niragi had killed, yes. He had killed because he was told to, and he had never felt guilty about it. In all those bodies, he saw the people who had made his life hell for so long in the real world, and he had no regrets about ending the lives of every one of those traitors.

But it turned out that Niragi was also a traitor. He became one when he discarded Arisu’s body in a dumpster and carried Y/N’s limp form in his arms to the outskirts of The Beach, gently placing her in the back seat of a car and driving off into the night without permission.

He became a traitor when he helped Y/N out of the car and made her promise never to return to The Beach, and that if she ever encountered anyone who recognized her, she would kill them immediately.

But above all, he became a traitor when he got back into that vehicle, leaving the woman behind, a rifle on the ground, and a thousand words that would never be spoken.

---

Hey everyone! I’m so excited to finally share this imagine with you! It’s been a request I’ve been holding onto for a while, and I might’ve gotten a bit carried away while writing—oops! Sorry for the length, I just couldn’t help myself!😂

I really hope you all enjoyed reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Your thoughts and feedback mean everything to me, so don’t hold back! 💬💖

Thanks for all your support, and I can't wait to bring you more soon!✨

38 notes · View notes