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helenazbmrskai · 7 months ago

Text

Mating Act (m)

Title [Mating Act]

Pairing [Alien! Yoongi x Human Slave! Reader]

Genre [Alien AU, Sci-fi, Smut, Angst, Fluff]

Summary [You make two choices that change your life entirely. First, you make a choice when you decide to save a family and get kidnapped instead of them, the second you make is when you force imprinting on an alien that takes one wife in his life which you decide will be only you.]

Words [5,2k]

Warnings [General warnings: slavery, bad treatment, dystopia setting, human trafficking, Sexual content: playful neck grabbing, teasing, sexual tension, first-time sex, dirty talk, manhandling, mention of human and wife a lot, alien anatomy (black ink, coldness and a very hard, big and cold dick also magic saliva), fingering, oral (f and m), unprotected sex, belly bulge, size kink, positions (cock riding, doggy, missionary), y/n cries that is how good she feels, overstimulation, buckets of cum, creampie(s), begging, blow job, possessive alien yoongi]

Rating [+18]

A/N: I’m very excited to share this with you guys since I think this would be a great successor to my previous work that many of you liked called “Mating Season” It’s kind of the same but entirely different. This story is in the same universe but it takes place before mating season!

Masterlist //

Your scrunched eyes open slowly, first, you only see a blinding light your ears focus on the cracking sound of neon. It’s cold and you’re not wearing enough clothes for the cool temperature. It takes a few seconds for your senses to return to you and then you can fixate on your surroundings, it’s outdoors and midday as you see the sun going up high in the purplish blue sky.

It seemed that by the time you were unconscious, you arrived at the slave trading planet. The light grey iron bars are cold to the touch and it’s extremely noisy out there. Different species roam the cells it might be hundreds if not thousands of cells lined up for sale, and you’re one of them: a rare find, a human.

Your introduction is displayed for the buyers in numerous languages. There are a few that you speak so you can read it with ease: female human, breedable, young. You hate how the aliens size you up some even get threateningly close until you back up. They openly talk about you thinking that you can’t understand a single thing. Humans are stupid and weak. You’re a race that is almost at extinction. Only a few of you are left and your life expectancy is around eighty years old, it’s short compared to others but all too long for you humans. You managed to survive this long which is a miracle on its own. How pathetic of you to get caught in international body trafficking because you decided to save someone. At least you hope that the family you tried to protect is safe somewhere else you don’t have anything left to protect so you accept your faith.

Deep in your thoughts, you thought you lost all faith in survival. You don’t have anything to go back to but you’re still unable to give up.

You still don’t want to die.

Your defiant gaze meets with a young male. Shorter than his friends he has bland black hair with the same eyes that almost look human. You know that he’s not one of your own though he speaks a different language with his friends and has weird marking on his skin that looks exotic in your eyes.

“Do you like her?” A man next to him stops to read your description. They almost look sorry for you as they see you behind the cell.

“No.” Black hair says without giving it a second. His eyes bore into yours and when he decides to stop looking at you you make a second split decision. You’re going to choose him. Your hands grip the bars as you get as close to him as you can. It’s been a long time since you used that language but you have to try.

“Take me.” They can clearly understand your words, you speak their language. You point at the black-haired man.

“Oh, it seems to like you Yoongi.” A friendly voice slaps him on the shoulders. They talk animatedly among each other finding you intriguing. Books say that the human race is stupid and weak but you look none of those things. His friends encourage Yoongi to get closer to you and for once you don’t step back as he approaches after a little push in your direction. His hands grab onto the bars before he can regain his posture and you use that opportunity to put your hands on his. His hand is cold to the touch the cold blue veins on his hands are in contrast to his pale white skin.

“Yoongi.” You call out the word you heard them say that you think might be his name.

“We’re running out of time. Let’s take her and leave.” A man speaks up his eyes fixated on the holo panel that shows the time and some kind of message. He has some weird-looking glass in his eyes, you think he might be the captain of the ship. You’ve seen that type of accessory somewhere before.

“I didn’t say I will buy it.” Yoongi pulls his hand away like you dirtied him. You rack your brain on how to make him take you with him. Black hair and black eyes, cool skin and vine-like black ink make you think of a race. You loved to read books this is how you taught yourself a few of those languages and you remember reading about his species once. This decision might take you closer to your end but it will be better than rotting in this place so you grab his clothes and smash your lips on his through the tiny gap between the bars.

A race that takes one wife in his lifetime. You’re going to bet on that.

Your tongue forcefully enters his mouth using his surprise against him to successfully imprint your taste on him. After his mind catches up he pushes you away so hard that you land on your butt. His eyes almost look feral as he watches you, he’s very angry but closes his eyes to push the feeling down.

“Get up.” You haul yourself up from the floor getting close to him despite his hard gaze on you. You don’t flinch when he grabs your hair and pulls you close so that your faces are inches away from each other.

“You want to come, then come.” It’s not a calm and collected sentence that he whispers so close to you. It sounds like a threat but you smile and nod. Even if he hates you he has an obligation to you. With that kiss you sealed your fate with his, you’re his. His one and only human wife for all eternity.

Your back collides with the wall behind you as soon as you see your kidnapper his torture that you had to endure is replaying in the forefront of your mind as he fiddles with the cell keys your hostility is not lost on the young men that wait for your release. Yoongi paid for you in digital cash don’t have more time to waste.

He intends to take you with him so he asks for the ownership process to be sped up.

The kidnapper yanks you out of the cell not caring about how you almost land on your face through the force he uses. Yoongi catches you easily lifting you in his arms. You forced him into accepting you but he still does his job of protecting you. His glare is not meant for you this time as he looks displeased by your idle treatment right in front of him. His big hands are curled around you in pretence protection. You must be crazy because you actually relax in his secure hold.

“Hi.” One of his friends gets your attention as he waves. He looks at you with curious eyes he seems like he has a lot of questions for you.

“Hello.” You reply in a hoarse voice. You don’t remember the last time you ate or drank something.

“What’s your name? I’m Hoseok.” He points at you and then at himself. It’s nice of him to talk slowly so you have time to interpret his words. No one else speaks to you as you go. Probably on their way to their ship since one of them implied some important business. Yoongi doesn’t look at you but his hands are firm around you.

“Y/N.”

“Your name is weird.” Hoseok slaps his friend but you don’t take it in the wrong way. Of course, for them, a human name will sound weird.

“You’re being rude Taehyung.” Hoseok scolds the other guy before he turns back to you swaying in Yoongi’s arms. “I think your name is pretty and you speak our language pretty well. How did you learn it? On Earth?”

You shake your head. If you think about your home planet your heart starts aching. “No. I taught myself reading books.”

Now his other friend looks interested in the conversation. The one who has that weird-looking glass.

“Fascinating, to find a smart human like you. I want to run some tests.” Hearing that crazy scientist talk again brings back bad memories as your face becomes uncomfortable and your relaxed figure goes rigid inside Yoongi’s arms. He could feel you tense up in fear and he reacted by holding you more firmly to his chest.

“You’re scaring her. Stop it.” This is the first thing he says after he bought you. Namjoon looks sheepish and apologises and even Hoseok reassures you that he’s just not good with words and you won’t be a lab rat at all.

You accept their apology. You think they mean well and are quite friendly to your utter surprise. They seem like good guys. You feel like it’s a good time to reveal some of your thoughts.

“Just because you read my description doesn’t mean you know anything about me. I wouldn’t reveal anything that would put me at a disadvantage. This is how I could survive until now.” The words taste sour in your mind and you think about all the things you had to do and endure just to be here. Was it worth it? This life. You have thought about it more times than you would have liked to admit.

“It must have been hard for you.” Hoseok shows you empathy and you give him a smile back in silent thanks.

“Why did you choose Yoongi?” A younger male looks at you with curious eyes. They don’t show it but this is the question they all were curious about all along. Even Yoongi perks up when he thinks you’re not looking.

“My instinct told me to trust him.” As for why, you don’t know either. You saw countless men and women walk in front of your cage but you only wanted him to buy you. The moment his eyes unknowingly lingered on you you decided to go with him. He must have felt something too. You saw him before he saw you. He never looked at anyone else but you. If you ask him he will probably deny it but you’re sure of it.

You probably looked desperate. Now that you replay your impulsive behaviour in your mind colour blooms on your cheeks in embarrassment. You learned how to kiss from a book it didn’t occur to you before but what if you were a bad kisser? You started spiralling until your surroundings faded and you locked yourself inside your head. You didn’t register when you arrived on board or when he carried you to his room.

You shiver when he puts you down on his bed. The temperature of his room is colder than you’re used to.

You panic when he tugs your clothes without a word. You grab his cold hands and look into his eyes with widened ones. He looks back at you with predatory. You once read that humans had a ceremony to be pronounced wife and husband. You never experienced it as a human but it sounded romantic.

Thinking back on what you read.

Yoongi is an alien. His species only takes one wife and their ritual is different from yours. The road to becoming his wife is simple enough.

“Look at you being surprised. As if you didn’t know what you did when you kissed me first.” You didn’t know, you just acted impulsively without thinking. You wanted to say that to him but only a gasp left your lips as he pushed you down on his large bed. He won’t listen to any of your pathetic excuses now.

“You forced my hands. Even if you don’t want it anymore you have no other choice but to be mine.” You gulp down the saliva that accumulated in your mouth, his fierce eyes pin you to the spot lying helplessly under him. His hand is so cold as he wraps it around your neck gently he can feel your heartbeat accelerate under his palm. He studies your features taking in every inch of you from head to toe. Committing everything about you to memory. Yoongi curls a few locks of your long hair around his fingers inhaling your scent his nose rubs against your pulse point. Your hands hold onto his waist digging your fingers onto his side but he doesn’t care about it as he kisses the skin on your neck.

You’re dirty and dishevelled in appearance your captor was not kind to his prisoners and you look like a shell of yourself after everything that you’ve been through. Your average beauty doesn’t matter to Yoongi. He’s going to take you regardless of how beautiful you look in other's eyes or not. The kiss already sealed your fate as his bride. Imprinting your taste on him means that he can’t escape you. While Yoongi wants to take you right then and there he realises that you need to be in a better shape to undertake the ritual. He did get a reaction rise out of you. So amusingly innocent.

“Take a shower, you reak.” You awkwardly look to the side unable to meet with his confident smirk. He likes to watch your face turn red. He pulls away from you and you take in a long-needed breath of fresh air. The coldness seeping back into your body makes you sober up and you scurry to his joined bathroom. Yoongi laughs as he sees you hide behind the door he makes sure you can operate the shower before he goes out to get some food for you. You don’t have any clothes to wear but you’re at least clean.

You find a clean cloth to wrap around your body in makeshift clothes it’s better than nothing as you need something to shield you from the cold.

Yoongi comes back before you can organize your thoughts. You could barely calm your heart as your mind kept replaying his soft lips on your neck and his body weight on you not to talk about those alluring black eyes. You could still see your reflection in them as you lock gazes. You look away when he puts the tray down in front of you full of food that you don’t know the name of. It’s not too bad once you take a bite but it’s bland the more you consume. It meets the purpose of filling you up as you no longer feel that gnawing hunger in the pit of your stomach.

You jolt up when you feel his hand pull your wet hair to the other side making his way to your neck. He takes a long whiff of air finally smelling your natural scent that was previously masked by the dirt and sweat. He takes the opportunity to cover you in his scent rubbing his nose up and down your throat.

You can’t concentrate on eating anymore.

“Eat. You will need it.” As if he could read your mind he halts all movements simply deciding on laying his head on your shoulder. You pick up more food and try to ignore how his possessive touch engulfs your body in a backhug. You remember how angry he became once you forcibly kissed him he even pushed you hard enough to lose your footing. The way he accepted you is too sudden.

“Are you going to …” Unable to say the words you stop in the middle.

“Am I going to fuck you? Yes, I will.” You gulp.

“Don’t you hate me for kissing you?” You close your eyes when Yoongi wraps his fingers around your neck again this time with more force but gentle enough that you’re not choking on air he just pulls you against his chest holding you by the neck as his nose rubs against your left cheek.

“I am angry. You selfishly decided this on your own. I bet you don’t realise half of the mess you got yourself into. I don’t hate you though. There’s something about you that caught my eye.”

It’s only a small peck on your cheek but your hands tighten around the tray. You take in a much-needed breath when you realise he doesn’t hate you. It makes you feel better knowing that it’s not entirely your imagination. He did look at you.

“I admit I don’t know much.” You sheepishly reply confirming his words. You read some things about his species but there’s no proof that everything is accurate.

“It doesn’t matter as you will be mine anyway.” His hand pulls you close his fingers splayed over your stomach. You only have a thin cloth over your naked body while Yoongi is fully clothed.

“Put down the tray.” You follow his order bending down slightly to put the tray down onto the floor. You let out a surprised yelp when his hands find your ass under the thin material, your backside is on full display for his hungry eyes. Your fingers have a deadly grip on the edge of the bed as he kneads the soft flesh.

“Your smell comes strongly from here.” His thumb parts your folds some wetness is gathered there that sticks to his finger when he pulls back. “I read a few books about you too, enough to know that this means you like the idea of me fucking you.”

Yoongi hates how he can’t see you acting coy biting your lip so he forcibly pulls you back against his chest and pulls your face to the side. You land on his lap your legs dangling on either side of his thighs. He runs his finger up and down your wetness watching your expression turn hazy and your mouth open to let out a silent moan.

“You like this don’t you? Having your human pussy touched by me.” Yoongi finds your clit quickly finding out how your moans increase in volume when he rubs circles over it. You’re gushing over his fingers.

The black ink on his arms moves to stain your body with blackness until it circles over your thigh in two pretty hoops. Your body is getting overheated as his touches devour your body. Fingers dance around your folds, your hips. The black hoops around your ankles and thighs are a reminder of what you started. You’re going to become Yoongi’s and no one can stop that from happening.

Feeling overwhelmed you reach up to kiss him and he does with a growl. He doesn’t push you away like when you stole his first kiss. No. He pulls you closer turning you around until you’re chest to chest.

Your hand rests against his shoulders your fingernails digging into his skin as you feel one of his fingers enter you without warning. Yoongi swallows your sounds with his mouth pushing his finger in and out of your pussy until your essence is running down his wrist. He adds another one and another one stretching your walls as he devours your mouth your hips moving along without you noticing. Getting into the rhythm of riding his fingers. You need to pull back to get some air in between the kisses. His hungry expression manages to steal your last remaining string of sanity. The cloth around you barely covers you anymore and Yoongi goes to remove it and leave you entirely naked before him.

His attention goes to your perky nipples both hands grabbing a handful and pepper kisses around the mound.

So far he doesn’t look strange. Not that you have any experience of what you should see in a situation like this. You conclude that your newly formed tattoos are one of the few things that are specific to his race.

His tongue is cold it makes you shiver when he sucks on one of your nipples. He’s so cold but his coolness is welcomed by your feverish body.

“Lay down.” You do as he tells you. Eagerly and shamelessly open your legs and welcome him between them. This is really happening you realise when he takes off his clothes. His pale skin is pretty and cool against you. Even his cock lined with cold blue veins is pretty and cold when he rubs it between your folds. It’s big and hard like a rock against you. Yoongi can see how you tense up after seeing his size.

“It won’t hurt if you do as I tell you.” He caresses your cheek with his thumb kissing you surprisingly sweetly.

“O-okay.” You nod. You wanted this. You can’t back down now. This is your only chance to live a life without hardships. You’re going to take everything that he gives you.

“This will make it feel better.” Yoongi licks his finger and when it comes into contact with your clit you feel an overwhelming pleasure bloom inside you. His saliva is heightening your pleasure having some kind of chemical in it that helps you feel kind of high. It blocks the pain when his veiny head pushes through the tight rim of your muscle. You and Yoongi watch how his long cock disappears in you inch by inch. It doesn’t hurt at all as he keeps his thumb on your clit, only making you feel full.

“Too much.” You put your hand on your stomach and feel him sitting inside. He makes way no matter how much your body tries to constrict around the intrusion. He reaches your deepest part shaping you into his size.

“There. All in.” Yoongi chuckles when he sees you struggle. You want to stay still and move at the same time. It feels good and strange but too good. You want him to move but on the other hand, you need time to get accustomed to this fullness. Yoongi can see the outline of his cock bulge out of your tummy and he experimentally pushes against your skin. Your pussy pulse around him and get tighter as he massages your lower belly. “How does it feel my little human? Do you feel good?”

You nod kissing him back with passion as your tongues rub together. He continues his descent down your body kissing your neck and breasts. Filling your body with pretty black ink. You pulse and throb around him as he remains unmoving inside you. Not enough you roll your hips trying to show him you want him to move.

“Answer me. Does my cock make you feel good?” At first, he only pulls out a little before he thrusts back testing the waters before he pulls out more as he uses a steady pace to rock into you.

“Yes. Yes. So good please don’t stop. Fuck me harder.” Yoongi wonders how his wife learned how to say such dirty words in his language but he’s thankful for it as his cock appreciates the compliments. Just like you asked he fucks you harder hitting that spot inside you with more deep thrusts.

“Yoongi. Yoongi.” The way you moan his name spurs him on, grabbing your ankles he sinks the remaining inch inside you.

“Ah. Y/N.” He responds with your own name. Grabbing your hips he pumps his cock in and out of you at a fast pace until you can remember his shape. This is the first time he says your name and your walls constrict around him hearing him moaning it. He’s growing addicted to the feel of you. He can hear and smell and see you. The way your pussy swallows him in your tight and wet heat ruined every expectation he had before.

You feel way better than he imagined.

Your tits bounce with each thrust and your moans never cease to slip from your dry throat as he buries his shaft to the hilt.

“Yoongi, I feel weird.” You grab his hand need something to hold onto as you feel this weird tightness in your belly. Yoongi could sense you were almost there tripping over the edge of bliss you became tighter around him. You’re growing sensitive.

“I know. Hold onto me, my sweet wife.” You hold his hand as he twists it behind your back the position is uncomfortable but the minute his cock slips back inside your heat you forget about it as it reaches new places inside you. Your back is arched one hand is firmly holding you and the other is placed on your hips.

This position allows him to hit even deeper the tip of his cock curves around a spot that has you see stars. You’re panting with your face nearly suffocating against the bed. Unable to move or hold yourself up you’re entirely kept in place by the help of Yoongi. The tightness in your chest explodes as you cream around Yoongi’s cock. He doesn’t stop there he fucks you through overstimulation keeping up with his ruthless pace you tear through the bedsheets. His long fat cock claims your pussy as his with a heavy load of cum. The tattoos on your body all settle down as he finishes with a few sloppy thrusts into your buttered hole.

Once he pulls out you can feel his thick cum pour out and his fingers trace your tattoos painting your body with his whiteness until everything about you is covered in him. He doesn’t stop there, he pries your shaking legs open and latches onto your sensitive bud. Yoongi pushes his cum back with two of his fingers as his tongue flicks over your clit. It’s too much and you try to push his face away but he doesn’t budge. He holds both of your hands in his tight grip on your stomach as he continues to feast on your pussy.

“Yoongi. Oh, uh.” You squirm but you can’t escape his hold. “Please. Stop, i-it’s too much.” Tears start to roll down your cheeks the next orgasm you experience hurts so bad but you can’t deny how it feels incredible at the same time. More intense than the previous one you had you let go with a cry of his name and cum around his fingers.

“No. More.” Yoongi looks up after registering your hiccup and goes up to soothe you. His tongue licks your tears away showering your neck and face with kisses until your crying subsides.

Yoongi looks you over and while he finds you utterly appealing covered in his cum he has a concerned look in his eyes. “Are you alright? Did I hurt you?” He pulls you close to his chest but after your senses come back one by one you start to feel his sticky cum all over you. Some still gush out of your hole as he hugs you to his body.

“No.” You shake your head reassuring him with a kiss. You don’t want to admit you cried because he felt so good.

This is the first time you experienced something like this. You’re in no way an expert but you know that his dick is not like any human males you’ve encountered in your books. They shouldn’t be so cold and big and the small ridges that kept rubbing your insides felt weird but incredibly good at the same time.

Even when he’s not aroused he’s so big. You want to touch it. “Can I?” Asking for permission you reach for his cock that rests against your leg but you don’t touch it until you get the green light for it.

“Sure.” Yoongi chuckles at your curiosity. It hasn’t been a hot minute that his dick was inside you but you want to touch it.

“It’s cold.” You muse, it’s slick with both of your cum so you could drag it up and down easily. Yoongi’s gasp catches in his throat it’s still sensitive but he lets you pump it until it’s hard again. You grow curious about how it tastes so you lick around the head as your hand moves up and down in slow motion. It doesn’t really taste like anything to you. Easy to swallow. You take your place in between his legs to get comfortable. Yoongi shivers when he feels your hot mouth around his most sensitive cockhead. You dip your tongue into the slit earning a loud groan from Yoongi his hand rests on top of your head only moving to get the hair out of his view of you sucking his cock.

“Do you like it?” You wonder if it feels good for him. This is the first time you’re doing this.

“Y-Yes, keep going.” You take more of him into your mouth encouraged by his hooded eyes that watch you. “Your mouth is very warm. It feels incredible.” You hum around a mouthful of cock he’s too big for you to get even half of him into your mouth. You stroke the skin that you can’t lick and you focus on his head instead of trying to choke on his cock. Even though you don’t think he wouldn’t like to see you choke on his length trying to fit everything. He reassures you that he likes everything you do to him. He doesn’t try to push your head down and you appreciate his thoughtfulness with an enthusiastic bob of your head up and down his length. He fills your mouth so much that it’s hard for you to swallow around it.

He's throbbing between your lips as you kiss the tip. He shows you how much he’s enjoying it with his lewd moans and sweet touches on your face and the back of your head. Contemplating what you should do with yourself you decide to give in to the desire once more. You want to have him again that it outweighs your concern to be able to take him after such a short time but it doesn’t deter you as you climb on his lap.

“Help me?” You ask shyly rubbing on his fully hard cock.

“Of course,” Yoongi replies with a smirk he can see how needy you are and he won’t deny his pretty wife anything. He kisses your lips sucking on your tongue as he guides your hips to hover over his cockhead.

He touches and kisses every mark and tattoo that appears on your skin.

You sink slowly at your own pace feeling full but you overcome the stretch of your body remembering his shape makes it easier for you to bury it fully into you. He’s big and hard as a rock inside you.

You need him to help you move but he’s more than eager to lift you and have you bounce on his cock. He’s wound up from your previous actions he had no idea he would be this turned on by seeing your small hands and mouth wrapped around his dick. You smell delicious he can’t help but kiss every inch he can reach as he guides you through the motions. You bounce on his cock your expression entirely clouded by pleasure as he hits the best spots inside your spongy walls. Yoongi kneads your ass pulling them apart to watch his cock disappear inside your small pussy. Your body might be coated in his cum but his cock is entirely coated in your arousal and cum until he shoots a fresh load inside your spent hole.

The others don’t see you the next couple of days only catch the back of Yoongi as he carries fresh food for you.

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shaybae1114 · 4 months ago

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Orc x reader

You lived in alittle cottage on the outskirts of town. Many found you to be strange but you had the best fruits and vegetables anyone had tasted so when you came into town to trade and sell the line was never ending. The towns people had practically raised you so your booth was always busy. What you weren't expecting today was the fact an orc had set up a meat stand right next to your produce stand. You had arrived before the sunlight to set up as you always do but froze taking in the sight. An orc, well over 6 ft tall, was standing in front of the stand next to yours hanging up rows of wrapped meat. You swallowed as you watched the way his muscles moved, enjoying the dark green color on his skin. You took in the scars that littered his back. Wishing you could kiss each individual scar. Distracted you hadn't notice the orc had turned his head and notice your stare.

"I paid for this stand I won't leave even if you have an issue with my kind." He snarled snapping you out of your perverse thoughts.

"No! I.. I mean no I don't have a problem with orcs. I just hadn't seen you around before. I'm... I'm sorry I didn't mean to stare or make you uncomfortable." You stammered out your cheeks turning bright red in embarrassment. You looked him in the eyes finally taking in his features. He had four tusks in total. Two larger than the the others , his eyes a vibrant yellow that reminded you of the sunflowers you grew around your cabin. You were attracted to the orc and had already made him think you where racist, way to go.

"Agar Warbringer." He said holding out his hand.

"Agar thats a wonderful name." You whispered shaking his hand as you told him your name. Agar grunted giving you a curt nod before turning back to his meats.

You left him alone to continue setting up your stand. Little did you know Agar couldn't help but keep stealing peeks at the small little human. You hadn't been afraid and looked him in the eyes. Plus the smell of your arousal had been what caught his attention in the first place. A human female attracted to an orc. There must be something wrong with you. He watched from the side as you set out your produce. Watching the way your hair fell and how often you'd brush it out of your eyes. The way the dawn was starting to shine on your skin so very different from his. Then he thought back to your tiny hand in his. How soft your fingers where compared to his. He could feel his cock hardening at the thought of your hands wrapped around him. Agar cursed silently under his breath focusing on the task at hand. He couldn't sell his meats if he couldn't even control his own.

The bell that signaled the start of the market rang through the air and just as fast, people started to flood in. As you helped person after person you kept stealing glances at Agar unable to help yourself. He was so handsome and they way he handled people was incredible. Giving small children some jerky to nibble on while there parents picked through his assorted product. The way he laughed with the elders as they told him their own hunting tales. His patience was vast even with those who didn't deserve it.

"Honestly if I were you I'd ask to move your stand." You jumped looking at the young man standing at the front of your line.

"Excuse me?" You asked shocked at his statement.

"Why would they allow an orc to put up a stand next to yours? Your one of the busiest stands in the market that thing will scare away your buyers with his ugly face." You could feel rage boiling up inside of you. How dare he say something so nasty.

"If that's all for you, I think you should go." You said coldly. The boy looked at you in disbelief.

"Don't tell me you actually care about that orc." He gasped. Shaking his head he scowled and left muttering under his breath. You knew violence was prohibited but you wanted to beat some sense into that child. You quickly stepped behind the stand for a second to calm your nerves. As you started to prepare to head back you turned right into Agar slamming your head into his chest. He quickly grabbed your arms to stop you from falling.

"Are you okay? I saw you kick that man away from your stand." He asked with a wince. Why was he over here? The last thing you probably wanted was him so close. Without thinking since Agar had a hold of both your arms still you rubbed your nose on his chest it had stung to slam into him. As his musky scent started to fill your sense you froze. Quickly pulling back from him your face turning red in embarrassment. You had just practically harassed him.

"I'm fine. Thank you for coming to check up on me. Sorry about your chest. I mean sorry. I'm just gonna go back the lines waiting. Thank you again!" You rushed out the words. Mortified how could things possibly get worse.

As the day continued you stayed busy still stealing glances at Agar every chance you had. Then as usual the bell tolled signaling the end of the market. When you looked over at Agars stand again. The orc was quickly loading his cart not even sparing you a glance as he did. A deep ache settled into your chest. Why was it bothering you? You and Agar had barely meet. You needed to leave him alone. Ignoring the tears burning at your eyes you started to pack up your own stand. Working diligently placing all the produce back into the crates you'd brought them in. So busy you hadn't noticed Agar slid inside to stand behind you. Agar shifted on his heels he had come to help you, wanting to court you in the orc manner, but paused as he could smell your tears. Had that man come back? He'd crush his skull for making you cry. Agar chose to clear his throat to get your attention wishing to bring you comfort. What he wasn't anticipating was the terrified shriek that left your lips. Agar covered his ears stumbling back an slamming his head on one of the beams. He lowered himself to sit on the counter rubbing his large hand over the bump.

"Oh by the gods Agar I'm sorry you scared me." You cried out, pulling him down to inspect where he hit his head. Swatting his hand away so you could see better. "Luckily your not bleeding." You whispered as you gently ran your fingers thru his hair. His forehead was rested on your breast in this postion. Agar found his eyes sliding closed letting out a soft moan. You started to pull away worried that the sound he made was because of pain. Agar wrapped his arm around your waist resting his chin on your breast.

"It's okay I shouldn't have snuck up on you." Agar had opened his eyes to take you in once again, you looked so worried for him. He found himself smiling at the way you fiddled with his hair while holding eye contact with him. "Little one, what made you cry?" He found himself asking. You shook your head wiping at your eyes. You let out a sigh biting your lip.

"I thought I'd upset you. And that you'd no longer want anything to do with me. You were packing up your cart so quickly." You whispered looking down. Agar groaned in embarrassment.

"I was packing my cart up so quickly because I wanted to come help you. I hoped if I helped you perhaps you'd allow me to spend more time with you." Agar gently grabbed your hands unwillingly lifting his head from your breast. He couldn't help himself but to admire the differences between the two of you.

"You wanted to spend more time with me?" You asked drawing Agars gaze away from your hands. At the look of wonder mixed with delight on your face, Agar found himself moving once more this time pulling you closer to him as he sealed his lips against yours. He spread his thighs tugging you into the space in-between. Placing your hands onto his chest he groaned. He dragged his hand up your arm tangling his thick fingers into your hair as he deepened the kiss. You'd never been kissed like this before it was all fire, passion, and need. You felt as though Agar would never get his fill of you. As you moaned collapsing against him no longer able to hold yourself up on your shaky legs. Agar slid his tongue into your mouth, bringing you into a heated dance of your tongues. As Agar broke the kiss he chuckled at the soft dazed look on your face.

"Your so beautiful and kind. You smell like sunshine and taste like fresh fruit. How could I not want to spend time with you? Let's pack up your cart then we shall go for a stroll." You whined softly as he separated the two of you smiling brightly at your response. He was pleased that you where returning his affection. He had truly believed wooing you wouldn't be possible. Yet here you where looking at him with some much love he kept forgetting how to breath. You approached Agar as he put the last crate into your cart.

"Are you staying in town?" You asked. Agar look at you shaking his head.

"No the people normally prefer I don't stay in town. I rest in my cart." At his words you shook your head. You knew that humans and the mythical didn't get along but that felt like to much.

"Please Agar, come stay at my cabin. I'll make us a hot meal and you can sleep on an actual bed." You begged softly. Agar look down at you his eyes widened. He found himself nodding at a loss for words, especially when your face lit up in a bright smile upon his agreement. The travel to your cabin didn't take long. You lived in the forest, just outside the city walls.

"Why don't you live in town?" Agar asked. Taking in your home. You had paused a sad look settling on your face before you answered.

"Mmm my parents where what the towns people call wise men. My father would say they where historians. They'd take down knowledge of anything and everything they could. When my mother discovered she was pregnant they chose this forest. I've been here ever since." A soft silence once again settled between the two of you. You led the horses to the barn as Agar looked at you.

"How old where you when they left?" Agar asked softly.

"I was six. I really dont like talking about it. The people in town took good care of me helped me be an honest worker." You whispered entering your home Agar close behind. You showed Agar a place to wash up as you cooked dinner.

You and Agar enjoyed your meal sharing stories. Agar helped you clean up.

"I'll show you to the bedroom." You whispered leading the way down the hall. As you arrived to your bedroom and opened the door Agar blinked.

"This is really well furnished for a spare bedroom." He stated simply sitting down on the foot of the bed. You blushed fiddling with your fingers once more.

"It's my bedroom. I thought.... I thought we could sleep together." Agar smiled you where being so bold and brave.

"Come here little one." He groaned as he pulled you onto his lap. You whinned softly at the feeling of Agars cock pressed against your core. He chuckled at the needy sound lowering his head to kiss you. His hands gripping your ass slowly dragging you along his length. "You feel that little one. I've been like that all day watching you." He growled lowering his head to travel kisses and small nips with his tusk along your neck. He chuckled once more at the needy sounds leaving your lips. "So desperate love. Acting like I don't have every intention to stuff you full."

"Please Agar more. Want you to take me." You practically sobbed out. Agar burst out laughing at your antics making you pout.

"I have to prepare you little one I'm much to big for you to take me right away." He layed down flat on the bed. "Take off the rest of your clothes and come up here." At his order, you quickly threw off your gown and undergarments. Once again drawing a chuckle from Agar. He found your eagerness endearing. As you climbed onto his lap he shook his head. "Higher love. I cant feast on you from all the way down there." You looked at him swallowing heavily as he licked his lips and tusks. You made your way up untill your dripping cunt was hovering above his face.

"I what if I hurt you?" You asked holding yourself up. This time it was your turn to laugh. The look on Agars face was a mix between being insulted and bewilderment.

"I want you to try." He growled his hands closing around on your hips pulling you straight onto his face. Making you choke on your laughter as his tusk pressed right against your lips, opening you up for his thick tongue. At the first swipe along your clit you whined. He moaned low pushing his tongue into your opening. He rubbed his nose against your clit as he tried to touch the deepest parts of you with his tongue. Gasping and trying to pull away from the overwhelming pleasure he snarled in frustration. You where interrupting him, with a quick movement you where moving backwards. Finding yourself flat on the bed his face still buried inbetween your legs.

"Oh by the stars Agar I can't!" You cried out as he now had you fully pinned open to his assault. He was fucking you with his tongue every once in awhile giving special attention to your swollen clit. You continued to try to get away from the immense pleasure. Agar brought one arm up to settle on to your hips right under your stomach. Using his other hand he grabbed your leg moving it so he could slip his hand to your weeping cunt. He slid his ring finger into you. Just his one finger was already stretching you wider then his tongue had. You moaned your back arching. Agar didn't hesitate to add a second you where already so wet for him. Agar slid his fingers deeper, watching as you cum. You were such a sight spread out before him so ready, so willing, and so sensitive. As his fingers pressed against your g-spot you cried out the sensation dragging out your already intense orgasam. He groaned in delight making sure you rode out the high of your orgasm, continuing to fuck you with his fingers.

"Your so sweet little one." He sighed dragging his tongue up your sensitive cunt making you whine.

"I could live in between your legs, but now your ready for me. Catch your breath." His eyes were almost glowing with his need to have you. Agar was patient rubbing slowly circles on your thighs as your breathing slowed.

"Please Agar. I'm ready I want you." At your words, Agar moved pulling you towards him. He grabbed his cock in his hand dragging it along you wet folds. As he lined himself up with your entrance he locked his eyes onto yours. Slowly pushing himself in he gritted his teeth. Slow, he had to go slow, you were so wet and tight. He could fill his control slipping. Another soft moan left your lips. With that soft sound Agar could no longer resist. He pushed himself the rest of the way with a quick rough thrust, his balls smacked against your ass. You let out a loud groan your eyes sliding closed at the feeling of being filled.

"Oh no mate, your gonna keep those gorgeous eyes on me." Agar growled as he began to move. Your eyes flew open thanks to the way he was kissing your cervix with every thrust. "There's my pretty mate. So lovely so tight around me. Irresistible, I will never let you go."

Your nails where digging into his bicep. The pleasure was overwhelming you. You were getting close to cumming. With out thinking you sank your teeth into his chest. Agar groaned feeling your walls tightening on him. "My pretty girl your begging for my seed. Pulling me back so tight." At Agars next rough thrust you cried out into his chest

Agar roared as he slammed himself all the way into you, slamming into your cervix as he filled you with his seed. Agar brushed your hair away from your eyes taking in the way your eyes where dilated. How your breast rose and fell with each panting breath. Blinking away your tears you looked back at Agar.

"Did you mean it?" You asked softly. Agar looked at you with a soft tilt of his head.

"Mean what little one?" He asked as he ran his hands along anywhere he could easily reach.

"When you called me your mate?" You whispered hiding your face now afraid his answer would be no. You wanted to spend the rest of your life with Agar rather it be in your cabin or traveling by his side. Agar froze at your question he thought he had made that perfectly clear. Pulling his cock back he slid himself back in slowly to your sensitive cunt. Your eyes rolled back at the overwhelming pleasure. Agar leaned down resting his cheek against yours. Setting in a slow steady pace.

"I meant every word. Your mine little one. My mate, my lover, my heart. I'll make sure your always full of my offsprings. I'll make sure all you know is how much your mine." As Agar continued to thrust into you at his words your eyes flew open looking at him. Agar above you his green skin shining with sweat under the lanterns. His yellow eyes were filled with admiration and need.

Agar once again picked up his pace. Making you cry out.

"All yours Agar. Your mate. But please I'm so close. So sensitive." You sobbed out fresh tears falling down your cheeks. Agar groaned at your words sliding his hand under your waist he lifted you up to meet his thrust at his brutal pace. Agar closed his lips over yours Pulling you into a heavy kiss. As he slid his tongue into your mouth. You once again came on his cock. Agar slid all the way into you once more as he came. As Agar pulled out fully this time he watched his cum dripping out of your cunt and down your thighs. Dragging his finger along the cum he started pushing it back into your cunt. He wouldn't allow a drop to be wasted. Your back arched at this rate Agar would be the death of you.

"Agar please I...I need some rest." You stammered out. Agar looked at you letting out a soft grunt. He laid down back flat on the bed easily pulling you onto him. Your head rested on his chest while he had your legs inbeetween his thighs. He started to fiddle with your hair.

"Sleep my heart for once you awaken I will have you again." He stated smiling at you his eyes filled with the same look of love and admiration. Agar had finally found his heart and he would never abandoned her.

#orc x reader #monster fucker #monster x reader smut #beginner writer #monster smut #orc boyfriend #smut

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singswan-springswan · 10 months ago

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ficlet under the cut

The crate tipped with a sudden lurch and broke open on the ground. Zuko spilled unceremoniously with the motion. Inelegant. Graceless. Normally his movements held much more regality, but he'd been kidnapped and stuffed in a scratchy box and out of the water for some indeterminable length of days, so cutting himself some slack here felt appropriate.

It wasn't much brighter outside the stupid box. His scales were dry, his head was killing him, and the floor held a pleasant cool against his mounting fever. He really needed water soon. Every part of his body felt... scratchy. Discomfort would escalate into pain, and then asphyxiation. He would suffocate if he dried out. Idly, he wondered how long it would take. The humans seemed to know. They hadn't acted worried yet.

"Our latest bounty." The voice looming over Zuko was muffled in weird places. "I thought it might spark an interest. You collect fire fish, isn't that right?"

Zuko bit down a hazy groan and fumbled to prop himself up. The loss of the tile's cool against his cheek was one he mourned, but there would be time for relaxing when he found a way out of this mess. He could barely think straight. The humans—the pirates who'd ransomed him from the girl in blue—were standing guard around him now. He could see their boots. They were facing all the same direction, same way the voice was talking towards, and Zuko turned to observe.

The surrounding space was large, a room, and very dimly lit. This wouldn't normally be an issue, being that he was a mer, but his headache made his eyes lazy and bad at adjusting to the dark. If he squinted, he could see the ripple of light along the walls. Blue. Weird. In the direction of the pirates' attention, something like the outline of a table was visible—as large and imposing as the room itself. A single shadowy figure occupied a seat on the far side. He looked weird with the backlight. Zuko's vision was getting spotty.

He didn't get much chance to scan the rest of the surrounding space, because the pirate captain decided to be a jerk and grab his hair. It'd long since escaped its neat topknot, now bunching and sliding strangely in dry heat. The pain and the change in angle made Zuko rapidly lose sight of the shadow man.

"This one's quite a specimen." The pirate tilted Zuko's head back, baring his throat—maybe as a joke; it was always hard to tell if humans knew the significance of such a display—and lifted him enough to catch the light. So their potential buyer could get a better view.

Zuko would like to rip the pirate's skin off and feed it to him, but he was weak with dehydration, and his previous struggles against the man's crew had left him exhausted. All he managed was a low hiss. If humans could understand mer speech, he’d be cursing them as soundly as possible. Someone was standing on his tail. Not that it made much difference. He doubted he could have swung it if it wasn't pinned.

"I've seen a lot of the fire mer in my day, but this one's real pretty. Don't feel bad turning the offer down. We'll keep 'im if you won't." His crew laughed. Bastards. Zuko could hear the leer in the pirate's voice. It made him dizzy with anger.

Then a low grind echoed softly, and the humans cut their chatter short. Zuko distantly registered the shadow at the table moving. What made that noise? Was it his chair? He stood, rounded the massive table, and drew closer. All Zuko could see was a dark, unfocused blob. Vaguely humanoid.

"Yeah, don't be shy! Come get a closer look!"

The fist in his hair tightened. His scalp burned. The fins all down his back shuttered, and a stinging ache began to form in his gills. He needed water. He needed to get out of here. He shouldn't have wandered so close to the shore, even if that pretty girl in blue seemed so friendly at first glance. She did sell him out to these pirate scum. He should have known way better.

Even standing an arm's length away, the lighting continued to cast shadow on the pirate's potential client. It could be reasoned, then, that Zuko and the humans around him were washed in the room's best luminance. Certainly his scar could be seen clear as day. Maybe his tail was pretty, but there were parts of him imperfect. Maybe the stranger wouldn't want to buy him for that. Maybe Zuko would be stuck with these idiot pirates forever.

A smooth voice came from the stranger. "Release him."

"Sure, sure."

The pressure on Zuko's scalp vanished. He collapsed to the cool tile with no more grace than before, even further disoriented, and with a worse headache. He grit his teeth in frustration. That bastard was still on his tail.

Cool fingers tilted his chin up before he could lift his head on his own again; he hadn't seen the shadow man crouch down. Startled, Zuko yanked back and hissed a second time. He made sure to reveal far more fang and fan far wider with his fins; he just wanted these stupid humans to stop poking and grabbing him however often they pleased. Was that too much to ask? He wasn't an ornament. And he sure as heck had no intention of being a pet.

The stranger's face was close, and shadowy, and out of focus. Zuko's head was killing him. The room spun.

"The shape of the fins—” The stranger’s voice began.

“Really something, isn’t it? Never seen a mer so fancy before.”

There was a beat of silence, then the cool fingers returned to Zuko’s jaw and held him firmly in place. He growled. It didn’t make a difference. He was exhausted and hot and vulnerable, and everyone could tell. There was no way to stop them from doing as they pleased.

“There’s a scar.”

“Wasn’t us, mate. Looks like the beast’s had it for a while. I think it adds to the aesthetic, don’t you agree?”

Zuko glared. It was the sort of one-sided remark he’d only accept from Uncle Iroh, though Azula had made attempts to express similar sentiments in that weird way of hers. He’d always hated the scar. At least the monster who put it there was dead now.

The stranger gave no comment. He reached another hand out and pushed Zuko’s hair aside, away from his eyes. Zuko did his best to meet the unfamiliar gaze as steadily as possible, despite the awkward backlight. He was being stared at. He refused to show how unnerved it made him. His trembling and fever didn’t help much in that regard.

Finally, after a dreadful length of scrutiny, the shadow man spoke. “How much do you want for him?”

Zuko could hear teeth in the pirate’s smile. “How much are you willing to pay?”

“Ten-thousand.”

Zuko didn’t know how humans calculated their currency. He’d assumed mer in general to be expensive, but they called him a stupid something fire fish, and it sounded like exotic. Even so, the pirate captain seemed shocked. He let out a high chuckle.

“Well! Show me the gold and you’ve got yourself a deal!”

The stranger waved an uninterested hand over his shoulder, and another grinding sound reverberated through the floor. Zuko couldn’t see the source of the sound with multiple different shadows clouding his vision. Judging by the pirates’ hushed tithering, their payment had been offered.

“Excellent! Pleasure doing business with you, as always.”

“Zaheera will see you out.”

The group broke formation around Zuko and floated away, whispering excitedly. Though they’d been awful to him, he couldn’t help a flicker of fear at their absence. At least with the pirates, he knew they’d avoid causing permanent damage. He knew they’d want to sell him for the highest price possible. Now, he had no idea what to expect. This stranger could have any number of sinister plans in mind; Zuko had certainly heard the horror stories. All young mer were warned about the brutality of humans, and now he was at the mercy of someone who really wanted him. This was bad.

The stranger let him go, and the world tilted as Zuko crumpled. He was very dizzy. And angry. And he really wanted to sink his fangs into human flesh.

But when he turned (against his better judgment) to snap at his new captor, a firm hand was already pushing down the back of his neck. The same way one might handle an unruly pup. Zuko was too tired to be insulted by the gesture. He wasn’t a pup anymore, but a move like that with the human’s advantage was enough to subdue even a full-grown mer.

“Watch out with that one!” The pirate’s faint voice called back. “Quite a monster at full strength. He killed two of my men when we—”

“Get out.”

The heavy thud of the door confirmed their absence, though the human didn’t seem to pay any attention to it. He ducked another snap of Zuko’s teeth, and ignored his crackly snarl, and slid his arms beneath scratchy scales. The world tilted again. Zuko would consider puking if he wasn’t so close to blacking out. The human was carrying him. Impressive. Zuko was heavy outside the water. His fins trailed the floor as they moved, but he was very much in the air, solidly in the man’s grip. Almost cradled, even if he was too big for the pup-hold to have effect a second time. The use of such familiar techniques should have rung a bell in his mind. Zuko’s headache and exhaustion wouldn’t let him dwell on it.

After a dizzying stretch, something wonderful happened. Zuko heard water. The noise was still muffled, and it faltered clarity with every stray tilt of his head, but Zuko knew what water sounded like. He’d been fantasizing about it for the past few days.

There was a splash, and with distant elation, he felt his fins trail. He wasn’t lucid enough to hold back the happy trill.

“I know.” The man huffed, and it rumbled through his chest. “I know—those bastards.”

The water rushed up around him, deliciously cool, salty, clean. It took Zuko up to his gills to realize he’d been lowered into a pool of some kind. It was shallow, but not cramped. He drew a deep breath. That felt very nice. The hands were gone.

He didn’t bother confirming he was alone before passing out soundly.

<~><><~>

Zuko was alone when he came to, and his headache had finally retreated to the realm of faint discomfort. Incredible what a good long sleep in water could do for one’s health. The pirates hadn’t put him in a tank. They were mad about what a fuss he caused the first time they brought him aboard, and they’d rightly concluded he’d be easier to handle if he was dehydrated and exhausted and dizzy. They’d doused him with lukewarm buckets every few hours, just to keep him from dying. Zuko was relieved to be back in water now. Even if trepidation about the uncertainty of his new circumstances wouldn’t let him relax.

The pool he’d been placed in was shallow; he couldn’t move without some part of his tail skimming the surface. It was still comfortable in spite of that. The edges spanned a decent length, so he could turn with ease, and the basin interior was cut from smooth, white stone. His fins shone stark against it. The pool itself seemed to be laid into the ground, flush.

Zuko scanned his surroundings while he waited for something to happen. He still seemed to be indoors. The walls here weren’t as high as the one from before—from the sale pitch—and most of them were made of a clear material. It shone with sunlight from outside. The rest of the space was occupied by greenery. The taller ones reaching the ceiling had been planted in beds in the ground, surrounded at the base with bushy, leafy shrubs, and brilliant flowers, and crawling vines. The faint sound of water also trickled through the maze, but Zuko couldn’t see the source of it from where he was. It was peaceful. Uncle would love this place.

But Zuko hadn’t forgotten how he ended up here, and he had no illusions about being treated fairly, even if he’d been left undisturbed in such a pleasant area. He had to keep his guard up. He was being held against his will. He was trapped on land with no way to escape or get home. He didn’t have much experience with humans, but so far they’d only beaten him, used him, or treated him like a pretty ornamental object, and he had no reason to believe this behavior would change soon. He had to be prepared for the worst.

In truth, he really wanted to murder someone. The urge had become so intense during his captivity with the pirates, and he hadn’t had a real outlet, being close to dying of dehydration. Now that he was rested, his jaw nearly ached to bite through bone.

He spent the time waiting for an opportunity by pacing around the pool. The space didn’t allow for much more than tight circles. Still, it was better than sitting around stewing in all his problems.

Mother was probably worried by now. Him being an adult with a life of his own didn’t stop her from worrying that he wasn’t home every day. Azula didn’t feel the same. Azula would kill for him though; she’d done it before.

Eventually, after what seemed like an hour of thinking to himself and going crazy for it, the faintest vibrations thrummed through the water, and Zuko froze. Footsteps. Someone was approaching.

He lifted his head above the surface. The sound drew closer, brushing through the plants with a practiced gait. Zuko coiled his body. There was deliberation in the person’s movement. They knew he was here. They were coming to see him. The likelihood that he’d be attacking an innocent servant or something alike was low, and that brought him a hint of reassurance.

When the human came into view, bathed in green filtered sunlight, stepping out to the pool’s edge, Zuko took an entire second to appraise the figure. Tall. Male. Dark hair, luxurious silk robes in green and pale yellow. When he spoke, it was the same smooth voice from the shadowy stranger that paid for him.

“Hello.”

Zuko didn’t wait any longer. He launched himself at the human with a vicious snarl. His vision was red. His heart was pounding. How dare they treat him with such contempt? He wasn’t some prized bounty. He wasn’t an ornament for some rich knave’s garden. He wouldn’t take this insult and abuse lying down, and if these humans continued to assume so, they were in for a shock.

To some degree of satisfaction, the man did seem shocked to be bowled over. The air left his lungs in a massive wheeze, and his eyes went very wide. He was also—however—quick. He reflexively shoved Zuko’s head away when Zuko tried to bite, and he managed to lurch free enough to dodge an elbow to the face.

“Wait!” The man yelped.

But Zuko had a size advantage, and the man was on his back, and Zuko really wanted him dead. He slammed his shoulders into the grass, pinned his legs with his tail, made another attempt to remove the throat with his teeth. This time, the man brought his arm up in a hasty block. Zuko was too busy biting down to be upset he’d missed his target. Blood and the creak of bone filled his mouth.

There was a shout of pain. “Wait wait—Zuko, stop!”

The words pierced his hazy red anger like ice through fresh snow. Zuko froze. Even being slightly feral at the taste of blood and festered indignation, he rapidly came to his senses and dropped the arm. His mind spun.

How did this man know his name? The pirates didn’t know. The pretty girl in blue didn’t know. And he wouldn’t be able to tell them if he wanted to (which he very much had not). It wasn’t a lucky guess. No one shared his name that he’d ever met. So why—how could a random human—

“Get off!” The human fumbled to shove Zuko’s face away. His sleeve was ruined, and rapidly turning red.

Zuko slowly obliged. The man didn’t seem angry. He only seemed annoyed, even as he bled profusely from an arm that might be broken. There was something unnervingly familiar about the twist of his scowl. He shuffled sideways and sat up.

“Spirits, kid, you’ve got a strong jaw.”

“I’m not—” Zuko cut himself off before he could complete the retort. The human wouldn’t understand him. The human knew he wasn’t a kid. Zuko was very obviously a full grown mer.

“You could have let me explain myself before trying to kill me.” Why did his scowl look so familiar? The man untied a sash of his fancy outfit and wrapped his arm with clinical efficiency. Then he looked up to meet Zuko’s eye, and his scowl faltered. “Are you okay?”

What.

Zuko stared. Was he seriously… asking if Zuko was okay? There was blood in the grass and in his robes and he might have a concussion and his ribs might be bruised and Zuko would at worst have a sore jaw. He shifted back warily. In his experience, crazy men often did cruel things.

When he made no move to respond, the man sighed roughly and looked away. “Guess I should have waited on that tea. Zaheera will be by with some shortly.”

“What?”

What on earth was he talking about? Tea? Of all things? How did he know Zuko’s name and why was he so relaxed about the bite on his arm and why did the slope of his nose look so familiar and why was he talking about tea in the blood and the grass?

“You were always more civil with it around.”

Okay, now Zuko was thoroughly weirded out. He wished he had an exit. An escape route. He was stuck on land in an unfamiliar house and the closest thing he had to sanctuary was a fake pool of water barely deep enough to sleep in. This was freaking him out just the slightest.

“You’re nuts.” He said. Just to say it. The man wouldn’t understand the words or the insult in them, but Zuko was sick of just sitting around not saying anything, waiting for stupid humans to come to the right conclusions.

For his effort, he was rewarded with the faintest thaw of the man’s grumpy expression. It looked amused somehow. “And why is that?” He asked.

What.

A trace of alarm made Zuko flinch. “...Because you’re… talking to me.” He probed. Just to see. Humans weren’t supposed to understand.

“Why would that make me crazy? You’re real, aren’t you?” He glanced at his sleeve, now mostly red. “I’m pretty sure you are.”

Zuko blanched. He considered backing away, back into the pool. The safety it offered was purely psychological, but it would be something at least. It’d be better than lying vulnerable on the ground next to a crazy person. His fins twitched.

“What—but—you understand me?”

“Of course.”

“But humans aren’t supposed to understand.” From what he’d heard, humans interpreted mer speech as primitive and animalistic: nothing more than a series of harsh vocalizations strung together. Zuko had demanded an explanation for the phenomenon when he was younger. After all, mer understood human speech just fine. No one was able to give him a satisfactory answer.

“Well, I’m not human.” The human said. “Technically.”

“Then what are you?” Possibly a witch? Zuko had heard of their strange abilities. Or maybe he was a spirit. In which case Zuko was screwed. He probably couldn’t get away with attempted murder on a spirit; he’d totally be cursed or something. It could also be a shapeshifter of sorts, from the myths.

But the man quickly dispelled any outlandish theories. For the first time that Zuko had seen, a flicker of hurt crossed his features. It made him look older than he likely was. Haunted.

“Wow Zuzu, you don’t remember your favorite cousin?”

No.

No, he definitely didn’t mean that. Zuko didn’t have any cousins. Not for eleven years. And there’d only been—one. Just one. Now there weren’t any.

But looking closer, Zuko could see why the scowl looked so familiar. He saw the same face in the mirror. And this man wasn’t human, clearly, even if he had legs in place of a red streaming tail. In place of the gold ribbon fins their family shared—that he must have recognized when he first saw Zuko.

He knew Zuko’s name. Zuzu. Azula tried to call him that—maybe out of nostalgia—but it belonged to them both, and Zuko hated to hear her say it because there was only one person who tried to bring them together like that, and hearing her say it reminded him of… of… a dead man.

Except he couldn’t be dead. He was right here. His blood tasted very real.

“Lu Ten?”

He looked so much like his father when he smiled. “Yeah.”

Zuko gaped. That felt like the only appropriate thing to do. Maybe the dehydration actually got to him, and this whole series of events was an elaborate hallucination. Maybe Azula spiked his tea with a psychedelic for her weird sense of humor, and he was hallucinating. It was too strange. This didn’t make any sense. Zuko’s cousin was dead, and if he wasn’t, wouldn’t Uncle know? Would Uncle have cried so hard so many private times if this was real? It felt so real.

“How did you get that scar?”

“How are you not dead?” Zuko’s head was spinning, though thankfully not from dehydration. He wasn’t sure if this was worse, actually. “Uncle thinks you’re dead.”

The comment earned him a flinch. “There’s actually a good explanation for that.”

“Which is?”

“I’m cursed.” Lu Ten squinted into the middle distance, looking uncomfortably close to being emotional. “To live as a human. And I can’t… go near the sea. I tried. It almost turned me into sea foam.”

Zuko dropped his head into his hands and groaned.

847 notes · View notes

planetdream · 9 months ago

Text

PLUTO !

CHARACTERS ! vampire!lee minho, human!reader [ft. human!kim seungmin, servant!han jisung]

GENRE ! horror/thriller—vampire!au. “romance”. smut. minors dni.

SYNOPSIS ! when your fiancé, seungmin, fails to return home after notifying you of his departure from count minho's estate, you decide to search for answers yourself.

WORDS ! 12.2k more or less

THIS FIC CONTAINS ! writing inspired by the various varieties of dracula. horror [vampirism. gore—body horror: details of blood and bloodsucking. spiders. strange creatures. nightmares and overall very lucid dreams. allusions to character death.] hypnosis. hallucinations. manipulation and gaslighting. kidnapping? and references to religion [christianity/catholicism], prayers and comparisons to a Higher Power™. mentions of food. infidelity and smut [one wet dream. pussy eating—a lil bush appreciation. hair pulling. big dick minho. grinding. fingering. worship. term master used once. degradation—whore shaming. choking. nipple play/breast fondling. lots of spit. squirt n cum.]

💌 extremely self indulgent. all the thanks and love in the world to the homie, @cosmicbyeol for beta-ing for me n overall being an incredible help !!! 🥺 also, as always, accepting feedback and constructive criticism!!

The last three weeks have been weary, to say the least. You had been elated as your fiancé, Seungmin, was scheduled to arrive back in the city after a nearly two-month-long business trip. With the day of his return steadily approaching, you found yourself excitedly performing various small tasks in preparation for the moment you finally see him again. Then the big day arrives and Seungmin is nowhere to be found. No big deal; perhaps his arrival is a bit late, or he may need time to himself to unwind after long travels. If anything, he’ll show up at your door the next day with flowers and a gift, ready to tell you all about his journey and the people he’d made connections with.

Then the fourth day comes, and by that point, you’re knocking on his front door but to no answer. You stroll past his home on your evening walks and the lights aren’t on. You’ve revisited the post office, checked in with relatives; and still, nothing. Seungmin is seemingly lost to space and time. By the sixth day, you’ve written a letter to Count Minho, the friend and business partner that Seungmin had been staying with; explaining the situation and the fact that you’ll be visiting while in search of Seungmin.

Count Minho is a mystery to you. Seungmin never spoke with you about his relations with the Count, and you never pried into the specifics of his work business. From what you do know, Seungmin’s work involves him being in contact with several different people from real estate to archaeologists and historians, to priesthoods and other religious leaders. You simply assumed Count Minho had been one of the aforementioned, or possibly an artifact seller or buyer; as Seungmin is interested in the hobby himself, and has countless other buyers and sellers he knows. While the Count is a mystery, you feel that there is a possibility that he can lead you back into the arms of your lover.

After a few days of planning and packing, you finally decide to get started on your journey. By the Sunday of the third week, you’re lodging with some very nice people in the town nearest to Count Minho’s estate—which is only about a two-hour distance away—you choose to stay in the village to get the word out about Seungmin.

The townsfolk are a welcoming and lively bunch. You were fed, rested, and told stories of both local legends and the juiciest gossip around town. On the eve of your final night in town before you join the Count, you mentioned him, and the room fell silent. A feeling of unease weaved its way into the small kitchen you’d been standing in. The two women beside you failed to meet your gaze. You had already been told of the creatures said to be lurking through the forests between town and the area of the Count’s estate. A classic story of a wolfman who is out to kidnap unsuspecting young men and women; only brought up because of very recent alleged sightings.

A third woman finally spoke up. Urging you to forego your plan of visiting what she called such a vile and off-putting man. There’s a legend about the man who lives in the castle at the edge of the forest—whom you presume to be Count Minho—who comes into town during the night of the first full moon of the spring season, with the sole purpose of terrorizing people in their homes; feasting on their organs and drinking their blood. The last occurrence happened nine springs ago: a family of five, two completely drained of blood and tossed to the side, with another two torn piece-by-piece; left mixed in a pool of wasted blood. There had been one remaining survivor, eyes removed from their sockets, who only could say one thing: “He called himself God.”

Though the story terrified you—you refused to let that stop you. If Count Minho is some extraordinary beast, then let you be the one to stop him if it means you get to become one with Seungmin again.

Alas, the day to meet Count Minho has come, and the women you shared dinner with last night are appalled to hear that you were insistent on making your way to Count Minho’s estate. Knowing that they cannot stop you, they wish you luck and pray for you, gifting you a crucifix for safety on your journey.

By the time you approach Count Minho’s estate, it is about an hour after sundown. The sky begins to dim rapidly, as the former golden-pink hue of the sky begins to turn into a deep purple and later fading into black. The temperature drops by the hour but thankfully the winter season is coming to an end. The snow is already clearing up, and in a couple days it will have been long gone and forgotten for generous showers of rain.

Your arrival, predestined and arranged to be brought by carriage, led you here. And as you pull into the gates of the estate, an unsettling feeling hits you. Deep in the pit of your stomach as if something had crawled inside of you and is now scratching to be freed. Despite that, the feeling of discomfort quickly begins to wash over you, seemingly dispersing into fascination—like a group of butterflies or a bouquet of flowers flourished within your body and spirit. You feel a lot lighter, elevated as if a veil was pulled over you.

You can hardly see the castle in the darkness, but if you strain your eyes hard enough, you may be able to see the silhouette of the grand estate. Though that’s no use, the surrounding forest, and deep black sky work as a void, shielding away any ounce of natural light, encompassing the castle within its secrets. The moon, nearly full, and friendly to those who respect it, is useless as the structure of the castle casts away the inquisitive nature of the celestial body—nothing will be brought to light or justice tonight.

The carriage, drawn by three black horses, halts in front of the main entrance. Several long, white, cylinder candles light up the main door of the Count’s castle. The entrance is similar to that of a cathedral’s—two heavy-looking doors adorned with indescribable red patterns; swirling into shapes that seemingly recreate human-like faces. It’s vague. At a simple glance, the patterns reflected by the candlelight look like faces, but the longer you look at them you realize otherwise. The patterns seemingly have no rhyme or reason, endless red swirls that are simply just decorations.

Atop the door is a large arch, and in the dead center is a sculpture of a man—perhaps it’s of the Count. In the brief flicker of the flame, you can see the face of the sculpture. Its face is horrid, angry even; a permanent scowl displayed. But in that short second, you notice its eyes, big and red, fixated directly on you. There’s a chill that runs down your spine in that brief moment of eye contact. And while every nerve in your body warns you, there are matters that the Count needs to assist you with that are bigger than just a feeling.

In your deep thought, one of the doors opens with a loud screech, almost like the scream of someone. It garners a gasp from you, shaking you out of your head and back into reality. Before you know it, your feet are moving faster than your brain and you step out of the carriage. Collecting your bags and holding them tightly, thanking the coachman for bringing you safely. As you turn back to the door, it’s open wider than before, but still, the Count is nowhere in sight.

You walk closer, hand reaching up to touch the door and you enter, eyes unable to find a resting place. There are candles everywhere, several of them as if there are no electrical lights within the place, despite the huge chandelier hanging from above. The smell of the place does not come from the candles—it’s something else that draws you in, a familiar scent perhaps from your past, but you’re unable to put your finger on it. You step further into the home and when you do, the door behind you slams shut, making you jump and turn back.

The slam is followed by an unsettling silence, practically deafening. You call out.

“Hello?” You look around. Just ahead of you is a long hallway, lit up with candles. You’re not sure how long the hallway is, as at a certain point, the light from the flames is no longer visible, fading into a pitch-black blanket. The walls are decorated with cobwebs and a boring gold and red damask; the colors are fading, or at the very least very dusty and in need of upkeep. The floorboards are wooden and when you shift, they make an awful creaking noise. This castle has been around for a long time—centuries even, likely and believably kept within the Count’s family. Modernity has not caught up to it.

“Hello?” You begin again. “I’m Y/N. I wrote to you a few weeks ago as I had some inquiries for you about Seungmin.”

Your voice trails off. There’s a cloud of unease that reigns above you, and still, as you stand in the foyer of this already strange place, there’s a familiar warmth that surrounds you. When you breathe in, your chest expands, hair brushing against your neck as you sigh in both contentment and exhaustion.

“Good evening,” You heard his voice, but you hadn’t heard him come over. “I have been expecting you.”

You open your mouth to speak, but any aforethought words get caught in your throat at the sight of him. He’s gorgeous. Absolutely stunning. You catch his eyes immediately, locked into his stare, lost in the deep sands of his chocolate brown eyes. There’s a soft yet teasing nature behind them and it draws you in, latching onto you. He looks to be a lot younger than the age you heard him to be. His lips curve into a smile as he sticks his hand out for you to shake. Though, quite frankly, you’re not sure if you’re supposed to bow to him or not.

“Yes, um,” You shake his hand, giving a small, shy smile. You’re unable to take your eyes off of him.

“Come on. You must be cold and tired, let us go sit.” He speaks before you get the chance, letting you collect your thoughts. “Feel free to leave your things there. They will be collected.”

You nod, setting your belongings down and following Count Minho deeper into the castle. You’re unsure if it is because you’re a bit tired, or some very serious architectural error, but the interior of the castle is like a labyrinth of sorts. The Count opens a door you initially assumed to be a room—but instead turned into another hall of rooms. He turns left on his heels and into a side room, you follow along.

The room you enter is small but comfortable enough for three or four people to have their space. Ahead of you are big windows, covered with thick black curtains that scrape against the floor. To your right is a fireplace, a huge flame already burning and keeping the room nice and toasty. On the right are three large bookcases that reach the ceiling, the multicolored spines of the books add little pops of color. In front of you are two velvet chairs facing the fireplace, divided by a porcelain side table and atop of it are two books and a tea set.

The room is very neat overall. A couple of misplaced books here and there, sat on the floor. Otherwise, it’s eerily neat. As if the Count rarely uses the room but chronically dusts because everything is just for decoration. The Count takes a seat and as he beckons you over, eyes diverted from your face, as he pours you a cup of tea. You move hastily, sitting at the chair across from him.

“Hibiscus,” He says, a small smile on his face. “It also seems that I’m forgetting my manners. Those in the town call me the Count, however, you are welcome to call me Minho.”

“Thank you for taking the time out of your busy schedule to meet with and host me,” You begin, ready to get to the point. The Count—Minho—nods. “As I mentioned in the letter sent, I’ve arrived here to look for my fiancé, Seungmin. I’ve only received letters from his arrival and departure, and not many in between those times; which is unlike him on his usual work trips. It’s been weeks now, three to be exact. And since you are a friend of his, I was hoping you knew of his whereabouts.”

“I fear I will be of little to no help to you, my dear.” His choice of words, while peculiar, are selected carefully. “Seungmin is a near and dear friend to my heart and I truly hope that he is safe, wherever he may be. The thing I can say is, he had been acting a bit—” He pauses, seemingly pondering on the right word to say before continuing. “A bit…abnormal.”

“He had been here at your home for nearly two months, what exactly do you mean by abnormal?” You inquire, pressing Minho to say more, not caring of how your tone might sound.

“He began to have these dreams, and some active hallucinations. Completely plagued by them. Night terrors, I’d say. He feared whatever he had seen, and while he initially confided in me about it, he soon concluded that I was untrustworthy. Somehow, Seungmin lost touch with reality.”

Plagued by nightmares is something that you take note of. A month into Seungmin’s stay at the Count’s castle, you began to have these vivid dreams. Some good, some horrendously terrifying and, well, a large percentage of particularly electrifying dreams. The most recent—waves crashing together on a violent stormy night on the sea. You’re aboard a ship, standing in the center of the forecastle, and all around you are piled up bodies; and there’s blood on your hands and arms, staining your skin. Blood soaking into the fabric of your clothing. It felt immensely real. You felt the unease of the rocking boat, you heard the crashing of the waves and the squawks of the birds circling overhead. Weirdest of all, you could smell the blood; almost craving it. The dream ends with the sounds of a heart beating and the rushing of blood flooding to your brain. And then there’s nothingness.

The Count takes a sip of his tea, and you choose to follow suit. Though, the tea is bitter, even with the added sugar, and not slightly tart as Hibiscus tends to be. Quite frankly, the taste is gross, but you drink out of respect. You do your best to keep a straight face at the taste, quickly setting down the cup. A small smile appears on Minho’s face, exhaling with a short laugh.

There’s a knock at the entrance of the door. In the frame of the door stands a slender figured man who seems to be a tad shorter than the Count. He’s rather cute with his medium length hair and round cheeks, though he wears a blank expression on his face. He turns to you, doing a brief bow and opening his mouth to speak.

Minho interjects first, walking towards the other man. “This is Han. Very simply, Mr. Han is my servant. Forgive me, Han here, was supposed to see to your arrival, but he had other obligations to take care of.”

The two look at each other, but only the Count smiles. Han keeps the same stoic facial expression, looking more exhausted than anything. The Count begins speaking once again. “Y/N, here, is the fiancé of Mr. Kim. You remember Mr. Kim, don’t you, Han? Y/N informs me that Mr. Kim didn’t arrive safely back home, now is that right?”

The Count looks to you, and you stand from your seat, nodding. “I’ve gotten a letter of his departure but he hasn’t been home yet,” You let out a deep sigh. “I just miss him so much. I hope that he’s safe wherever he is.”

The air in the room is thick with tension. For the three of you, this has to be an outstanding situation right? For you, as young as you are, to have the love of your life—the man you plan to marry and give yourself to—to go missing without much word. And for the Count, who has been a longtime friend of Seungmin, having to deal with the weight of potentially being the last one to see Seungmin.

“A friend of Count Minho is a friend of mine,” Jisung smiles. “I’ll do my best to help you find Mr. Kim.”

Han and the Count step off to the side to exchange words briefly. Han turns to leave and the Count turns back to you. “Hungry by chance?”

The dining room is rather spacious, and includes a fireplace, which seems to be a running theme within the Castle. The wooden floor panels are mostly covered by a large, deep red rug. Red is the main color of the decor of the room; the velvet dining chairs and all the flowers,—from the pansies to the roses—even the dinner plates; are red. Despite this, it’s clear that Count Minho has quite a bit of money to have afforded all of this: from paintings to small artifacts that decorate end tables and small statues of gargoyles. Perhaps he is indeed a collector of sorts.

Minho pulls out your chair, pushing it back in once you’re seated. He then takes his seat at the other end of the table. There’s a spread of food on the table and various bottles of wine, to which the Count motions for you to help yourself to. After making yourself a plate, you pour yourself a glass of wine—a red, twirling the liquid within the glass, foregoing the tradition of smelling the aroma and instead shooting it straight back. The wine is rather sweet and washes down smoothly; more like juice than a wine.

Count Minho watches you eat with inquisitive eyes, studying you. He drinks from his wine glass as he stares at you. “What exactly do you know about your fiancé’s career?”

You meet his gaze, eyes fixated on you with a squint; it all makes you a bit uncomfortable. It’s like Minho can read every bit of you with just a simple look.

“Not very much.” You admit.

“Oh?” The Count is especially interested now. “Had he told you anything about me then?”

“No. Only that you were a long-time friend.” You pour another glass of wine. “Although..”

You trail off, unsure of if you should mention the story you heard from the town. You look at the Count, and he raises an eyebrow to you.

“I had been staying in the town nearby for a few days before coming here. And well, I’m not too sure how to explain it. The only things I know of you come from word of mouth, and well, they aren’t very good.”

“Go On.”

You recite to him the story you had been told about the man in the castle who would come into the town and terrorize its citizens. At the end of the story, Minho erupts in laughter. He’s holding his stomach and chuckling, wiping faux tears from his eyes.

“Let us just say, I have more valuable things to do than whatever that is,” Minho rolls his eyes. “I only ask because you intrigue me. That, and I never thought of Seungmin as someone who would lie to their lover, really.”

The word lie is interesting. You’d always perceived Seungmin to be an honest man, really. The two of you forged your relationship on the basis of being fully honest with each other. You never thought you would ever come close to doubting Seungmin nor his truthfulness, his faithfulness even; but Count Minho’s tone of voice—the seriousness coating every bit of breath he takes—along with the fact that you don’t truly know of Seungmin’s work, has you second guessing yourself. Now it’s your turn to press him.

“Continue.”

“I’m saying, you don’t know what the man does for a living but you choose to throw away all inhibitions and potentially roll yourself into danger for a man you almost transparently know next to nothing about.” The Count pauses to sip more of his wine. “Seungmin was into things of the rather unusual variety, I’ll have you know. If you want, I can show you the things that he and I were discussing.”

You take Minho up on his offer, and he gives you a small smile in return.

“While I’d love to get to work on such matters tonight, I’m afraid I must go to sleep. I have some important matters to tend to in the morning. Shall I show you where you’ll be staying?”

—

You follow Minho, out of the dining room and down the endless hallway. The wallpaper is practically peeling, and the higher ceiling riddled with cobwebs notably hasn’t been cleaned up in quite a longtime. The obvious decades old paintings that were placed against the walls had been covered in dust and grime, dimming the vibrancy intended by their various artists. He then stops at a white door, turning the knob to open it. The room is dark and cavernous, but with the help of a lit candle sharing its warmth with the candles previously naked and cold, you see that it’s actually quite spacious and bright. White and light brown decor gives the room a light and more alive look in comparison to the thick dreariness of the parts of the castle you’ve seen so far. It’s almost like venturing into another world, or peeking back into an oddly shaped past.

“Breakfast will be served early in the morning. Sleep well.” And with a smile, Minho exits, closing the door behind him.

In the silence, thoughts begin to fester, nipping away at your well-being. You’ve gotten next to nothing so far from this meeting with the Count, but tomorrow is a new day and you hope he can give you insight into this world of Seungmin that seems to be unraveling. It’s confusing—for a brief moment you find yourself questioning your decisions. Have all of your life choices led you to this exact moment? The Count is vague in his ways of doing things—it’s like he’s not even trying to hide the potential of his true nature. He appears like any other person, but there’s something more to him than what meets the eye. You’ve been caught in a web of mystery, slowly sinking deeper and deeper.

You find that your bags are sitting next to the bed and you reach in to find your night clothes. Once you lift your shirt over your head, you cannot help but feel like eyes are watching you. Covering yourself, you scan the room in an attempt to soothe your psyche, and as expected, you remain completely alone. Shaking the feeling, chalking it up to being nervous about being in yet another new place, you continue to change your clothing. Sitting at the edge of the bed, you reach into your bag to pull out a letter you received from Seungmin.

“My dearest heart,

There is not a moment that goes by where I am not thinking of you. On my lonely and rather daunting work evenings, I look to the sky and am reminded that we share the same view together. You are the one thing keeping me balanced and sane. I know that you are waiting for me to return, and I want nothing more than to return to the safety of your warmth. Until then, look to the sky and be reminded of me.

K.S”

Once finished reading, you press the letter against your chest. The second to last letter you received. Initially, it was rather hard to sleep at night after you received it. You had longed for your lover—missed his existence to no end, and you still do. There is nothing in the world that you would rather have than the gift of your lover returning to safety. You long for Seungmin, aching for the chance to finally touch him again. To hug, to kiss, to feel every inch of him once again. Today marks the third week since you had last heard from Seungmin, and from tonight onward, you demand to get the answers you deserve.

You gently place the letter onto the nightstand. You kneel onto the floor, elbows pressed against the bed with your hands together in prayer. You had never been religious, nor, in a situation in which you felt you needed to pray before—but it has become a habit of the last few weeks. Closing your eyes, you inhale deeply.

“Dear God,” You begin. “Please align me with my lover. Please return him to me safely.”

Pulling back the covers, you snuggle into the bed, drifting off into an idyllic night's sleep.

You’re stuck. Seemingly, your body is paralyzed; hands resting at your sides, legs pressed together. You try to move, starting with a pinky and then your foot, but the longer time goes on, the more your ability to move lessens. Unable to even move your head left or right. You’re completely stuck. Not to mention, stuck in some complete void of a room, unable to see anything.

There’s a vibration around you. It’s a subtle vibration, though you can feel your body swaying back and forth as if suspended in the air somehow. Just then, there’s a spotlight. It shines in your face before spirling in circles, lighting up various parts of the area you are in; but still, there’s nothing but darkness, even in the brightness of the light. Just until you view a quick flash of something briefly catching the light. The light runs from the figure before spinning back to shine itself on the mystery.

Despite its distance away, you can see the thickness of the short hairs that decorate the body of the arachnid. The many eyes of the spider sparkle in the light, its eight moving legs speeding their way over to you. You watch as it clicks its mouth, salivating as it makes its way to its fresh catch.

Here you are: a mere fly in the realm of the spider.

At a blink of an eye, the spider is circling you, inching closer and closer until you can no longer see it from your horizontal position. Suddenly! It lurches, jumping atop of you. The spider sinks its fangs into you, piercing your skin harshly, burning. The attack against your skin causes blood to splash everywhere, spraying onto your face and body. You shriek in horror—attempting to send signals for your body to wake up from its terror. Your entire body burns; throat dry and brittle from yelling so much. The area around where the spider’s fangs are latched inside of you, both itches and stings. Feels like you’re getting pumped for your blood yet also injected with its venom.

If possible, your body gets stiffer. Cold. Vision fading.. And fading until there’s nothingness. All you can feel is the body of the eight-legged creature draped over you; taking and taking freely.

Despite the nightmare, you feel rather refreshed waking up. A minimal amount of light shines through the curtains. Stepping out of bed to the faint smell of food, you yawn and stretch briefly before heading to the closed door. Stepping into the hall from the confines of the room you spent the night in, you take a few steps across the hall to look out into the window. It looks bright and comfortable outside, a stark difference between the drab, dreariness of the castle’s interior.

When you arrive at the dining room, there’s a full spread of food. Toast, tea, and a plethora of fruits and berries. In the daylight, the interior of the dining room looks a lot dustier, as if it's barely used. And to be fair, it seems as though only the Count and his dedicated servant occupy the estate. Which you wonder about—does Count Minho have no family? And what about Mr. Han? Any lovers? Who exactly is the Count and what was Seungmin’s business with him?

“Will Count Minho be eating with us?” You ask as you take a seat.

“Sir is taking care of some business this morning. This breakfast is all yours.”

“You won’t be eating?”

“Ah,” Jisung sighs with a smile. “I had a big breakfast earlier.”

With that, Jisung lets you begin eating. He simply just stands there, and while his eyes aren't on you, you can feel him observing your presence, similar to Minho.

“So, Mr. Han,” Playing with your food as you speak. “How long have you worked for Count Minho?”

“Only a few years. Feels like a lifetime, though,” He turns to you, a small smile on his face.

“Are you also a friend of Seungmin?”

“I’d only spoken to Mr. Kim a few times before his most recent visit. I typically stay out of all of Count Minho’s business affairs. I prefer to deal with the home side of things,” Jisung nods. “Speaking of, you’re free to explore the castle if you’d like. The Count won’t return until later.”

“Really? Are you sure he’ll be okay with it?” The opportunity to explore this grand castle piques your interest. You raise your eyebrow towards Han and he nods in response.

“It’s no problem, really. To warn you, some rooms aren’t used as much anymore so they might be a bit untidy. Almost time for some spring cleaning.” Han gives you a short, dorky laugh. He’s adorable, if that’s the word. He seems to be on the more timid side, probably doesn’t speak to many people other than Count Minho on any given day. “Jisung, by the way, you can call me that.”

“It’s nice to officially meet you.” You smile. “Can I ask you one more thing?”

Jisung nods.

“What room did Seungmin stay in?”

“The room that you are staying in.”

The castle looks rather different during the daylight. The hallways feel hollow, completely blank despite the moderate amount of clutter in the form of various books and paintings littering the sidelines. While the idea of a large estate is stunning, it is clearly a bit too much for only the Count and Mr. Han. You wonder if Count Minho has been previously married—or even married at all; to be fair he looks a little young, but it’s possible he’s had a lover in the past. Perhaps that’s why he’s so understanding of your pursuit to find Seungmin.

You return to your room. Beginning at the bedside table, you tour around the room, looking for clues that might help you. Searching the dressers in the room, you make your way over towards the small desk in the far corner. Opening the drawers of the desk, there remains nothing but untouched letter paper. Scanning the area for any unchecked marks, your eyes fall towards the bed. Dropping to your knees, you crawl the short distance to the edge of the bed. Pulling the bed skirt up in anticipation only to be left with nothing but dust bunnies. This initial search leaves you empty handed but you go off to make your way through the rest of the Castle.

The castle is indeed like a labyrinth. Some doors open to an empty, decrepit room of various doors. Admittedly, you’re a bit too afraid to open one of the random doors. You’re not familiar with the layout of the estate, and you refuse to get too deep into this trap of a home. One door opens to a windowless room, and the singular wooden chair in the middle causes you to back out of said room slowly.

Continuing on your pursuit through the endless halls of Count Minho’s estate, you approach a doorless room. Without needing to walk in, you can tell by the bookcases that it’s a library of sorts. Making your way through the entryway of the library, you find that the temperature of the room is noticeably colder than the hall. The library has dark wooden shelves filled with books from the ceiling to the floor, and you know that if Seungmin was here, he’d be able to tell when and where the shelves were constructed. He would always pick up little pieces of knowledge like that—claiming that he didn’t know why yet, but knowing such would help further him in life; and importantly, in his studies.

You run your fingers over the spines of the books as you stroll your ways through the library. There are books spanning across language and subject—the majority of it, completely unidentifiable to you.

You come across a leather-bound book displayed on one of the bookshelves, cover forward. It’s dark, dusty, and might even be a little dirty. The cover of the book itself is twisted, the skin of the book twists and dives into different layers, somehow folding the cover of the book inside of itself. It’s complex and strange, unlike anything you’ve ever seen before. Just to hold it, the weight of the book is heavy, somehow warming up in temperature. To feel the book, to hold it in your hands, it intrigues you just as much as it disgusts you.

The language of text presented on the pages is unknown to you. The drawings that accompany the writings, however, are disturbing. Dark and detailed illustrations of creatures that you would never have thought of. Upon the first page is a visualization of a winged creature with the distant silhouette of a man. Only there’s a huge eye where the head would be, and its legs are tangled and twisted together. Turning a page, you’re presented with another drawing. An illustration in charcoal of a dark figure. The drawing looks as though it’s been drawn in haste; a rushed, frantic effort. Alongside is another illustration of a mouth—though without ink, the artist did their best to emphasize the splotches of blood that stain the mouth. What stands out the most are the set of razor sharp canines that protrude from the teeth—two sets, specifically. Beholds, the only romanization on the page: Vampyre.

A chill runs down your spine, but you’re unable to remove yourself from the grasp that the book has. Turning page after page, overstimulating yourself with various images of creatures that are likely to lurk in the shadows. The longer you examine, the more your head pounds. Nausea interrupting all plans you may have had. Head spinning and spinning, visions bending and thrawn within itself. Figments of the images you’ve viewed imprinting themselves on your vision in dark splotches like a memory. The new and the strange tangling itself within your memories, hiding within them for safe keeping.

“Y/N?” There’s a light voice that breaks you out of your spell.

When you come to, Count Minho is standing over you, his cold hand pressed against your forehead. You look around the room, sitting in an opposite corner of the library than you originally remembered.

“Are you alright?” He asks.

“I’m not too sure,” You sit up straight in your seat. You look towards the open window and the sky outside is completely dark. Somehow, it appears that hours have passed. What a freaky and strange thing.

When you look up at Minho from your position on the chair, you’re immediately pulled into the pools of his eyes, locked in. “You must be hungry, yeah? It’s dinner time.”

Just like last night, Minho leads you to the dining room. Just like last night, he slides your chair out and pushes it in for you. The spread of food tonight is different from last night, and you notice that some of the decor around the room looks different as well. Your vision hasn’t quite recovered from its hectically blurred state, and in your moment of disillusion, none of this interests you.

“Is there something wrong?” Minho asks as he sits. What isn’t wrong? You feel a rather painful shift in your own mood.

“I think I might be a bit tired.” You exhale. Despite aching for the continuous pursuit of knowledge, sickness continues to trail behind you. Uncertainty creeping its way up to the forefront of your thoughts. You’re unable to escape the feeling that there might be something seriously wrong. Anxiety rests in the pit of your stomach, slowly eating away at you. Refusing to look at Minho, you pick at the food on your plate. Honestly, you feel rather sick. Your vision, while still painfully blurry, continues to spin ever so slightly. Placing your hand flat against your forehead to find that you’re burning up on flu type levels. You look across the table toward Minho and your vision doubles, triples, then suddenly you're seeing eight versions of him.

It’s a bit of a hassle to move the heaviness of your hand, fingers slowly creeping up to grasp onto the wine glass. You close your eyes to soothe your vision, taking the glass into your hand fully.

Minho coos. “I was really looking forward to dinner with you; but if you’re tired we can postpone our conversation.”

Taking a sip and allowing it to savor on your tongue. The slight, unsuspecting note of pomegranate makes you smile—something comforting in the mixture of mess you’re currently feeling.

Grace be to God. When you open your eyes, your vision returns to normal. It’s something of a miracle.

“No. It’s fine. That strange book in the library,” You look at Minho and struggle to find the words. All that remains in your head is visuals of every creature you saw depictions of.

“What book?” He doesn’t follow.

“It has drawings of these strange creatures in it. Some kind of horror book, I think it made me a bit sick.”

“I’ll tell Han to search for it so that I can have a look,”

Dinner continues with only a few moments of silence. The topics range from a variety—the original focus of conversation on Seungmin before venturing off elsewhere. Count Minho gives you insight on what he does; referring to himself as someone who studies human nature, communication and our state of existence. He loves the study of humans and thus dedicates his life to it, choosing to be of help in any way he could be. Of which, is how he met Seungmin, and from there, they became partners due to their similar interests. Somewhere, is a layer of information that Count Minho refuses to give up so soon.

“May I walk you to your room?” Minho asks, rather politely, but your room is not too far from your current position. Still, you say yes to him.

Unlike dinner, the very short walk is in total silence, but Minho’s presence is comforting. You reach the door to your room in no time and Minho steps in front of you before you can say anything. The silence continues as Minho and you stare at each other. Though, the silence turns to static when Minho leans in to kiss you. His lips on yours and you don’t even bother to pull away. Instead, you kiss back, allowing him to deepen the kiss. He pulls away in haste, muttering a goodbye before walking off into the darkness of the hall.

You step into your room and therefore, instantly step into a pool of guilt and confusion. Seungmin is so far from the forefront of your mind—for you to indulge in a kiss with another man and to not think once about your lover. What kind of monster have you become?

Once changed into your night clothes, you peel under the covers and you pray. You don’t feel like yourself, and the feeling creeped upon you. The thoughts in your brain are mixed together, both elaborate and unintelligible, a mixture of things you know and things you never knew. Images of those same creatures stain the darkness when you close your eyes, peeling back layers of the person you once knew to be you. Before sleep finally engulfs you, you pray for the guidance of whoever is listening.

Minho guides you towards the bed. Red and black satin sheets fitted across the bed and the pillows. Minho pushes you against the bed and huffs out a short laugh, smirking at you. You bite your lip out of nervousness, peering up at him.

“You’re so beautiful, my rose.” Minho’s hand is soft against the skin of your knee. Lightly, he drags his nails against your thigh, inching closer and closer to the material of your nightgown.

Before he does anything, he leans down to kiss you; eyes closing as your lips work in sync, souls melting together. The kiss deepens for just a moment until Minho pulls back, brown eyes staring into your own. He plants one more quick kiss against your lips before his hands begin working beneath your gown. He slides your dress up to your waist, admiring the softness of your belly and the smoothness of your skin. One kiss above your navel and another kiss below, is all he lets himself have before he gets too deep into it.

You make it easy for him, foregoing underwear to allow your lover easy access. Minho can only scoff, but he shuts himself up with another kiss to your mound. “Just for me, my dear?”

“Only you, love.” You smile at him, motioning for him to come closer. Minho, of course, follows suit. He would give you a billion and one kisses if he could.

When the kiss breaks, Minho drags you towards the edge of the bed. Spreading your legs apart, he drops to his knees beginning his worship of your cunt. Tongue flailing out, slurping up every drop of your wetness, soft lips drenched in your flavor—and there’s no other way Minho would rather have you than at his complete surrender. His hands grip your ass, trying to push you into his face. Lips covered in slick and spit, puckering around your clit, sucking it in; Minho’s head bobbing up and down slightly, moaning into your cunt.

“So fucking delicious,” Minho mumbles, continuing with his feast. Your hands fly to his hair, pulling with every lick and suck he gives you. Moaning freely, not caring if the entire world can hear you. In fact, maybe the entire world should hear you.

Minho eats you sloppily, savoring not only your taste, but the feeling of your cunt against his skin. The feeling of the softness of your pubic hair against his skin is like heaven to him. Sometimes, he’ll spend time rubbing this face against the hair before he dives into your cunt. Not to mention the feeling of your juices soaking into his skin, which he’d use as a natural moisturizer if he could. Minho’s obsessed with every inch of you; from your cunt to your skin, to the very blood that courses through your veins.

His fingers push into you as his tongue swirls against your cunt. His lips suck your clit into his mouth, tongue lightly beating against the tip of the bud. Minho pushes his saliva to the front of his mouth, soaking your clit in a mixture of his spit and your juices.

Your fingers pull against Minho’s hair, tugging harshly against his scalp but he wouldn’t have it any other way. He might even ask you to pull harder. You push Minho against your cunt, slowly grinding your hips against his face. Moans bouncing off the walls as you drip onto Minho’s tongue. Minho takes this opportunity to suck on your clit just a tad harder, triggering your pending orgasm. Eyes rolling to the back of your head allowing you to see colors as warmth rocks through your body. Limbs daring to curl together, Minho doesn’t allow you to move from the hold of his hands nor the warmth of his mouth.

Minho slowly kisses up your body. You can feel the remnants of his kisses even after he’s long gone from a spot because of the wetness on his lips. He kisses at your neck, then your cheek, and finally your lips. Deepening the kiss as he taps his cock against your cunt, you invite him in.

Three long orgasms later, you and Minho are snuggled in bed, snoring softly beside each other. Suddenly, you’re woken up by a loud bang. Looking to your side, you find Minho unbothered, still asleep, chest rising gently with each breath. There’s another bang, louder and possibly closer than last. You slide out of bed, looking back at Minho’s sleeping figure before making your way towards the door, hand reaching for the glass door knob.

There’s another loud crash as you twist the handle of the door. You step into the hall of darkness, wooden floor cold against the bottom of your feet. Closing the door behind you, you venture out into the darkness. The halls of the castle are quiet, unmoving; day in and day out they remain the same, even in the dead of night. It’s rather sorrowsome, actually. So full, yet so empty—the castle feels like it's dying.

Another loud bang. Followed by another and another. One after the other, four beats apart. The knocking appears to get louder with each step you take towards the staircase. You raise your foot to take that first step, there’s another bang once you firmly plant your foot against the stair. Quickly but carefully, you make your way up the staircase. In the near distance, towards the end of the hall presents a glimpse of golden light.

Letting your legs guide you, you make way towards the door at the end of the hall, almost floating. The knocking doesn’t stop, getting louder and louder the closer you get to the door; but when you try to halt, you’re guided to your destination by a sudden force; body stiffening, neck making a sharp turn as you peek into the room. The crackling warmth and light emitted from the fireplace sets a gorgeous, homey scene.

“Help.. Me..”

Your eyes shoot towards the ground until you find the fingertips of a man laying in a puddle of blood. But before your brain can process who the person is, you’re snatched away. Falling fast into a pit of darkness.

You awake in the dead of the night to a knocking at your door. It’s soft and subtle, but has been consistent enough to pull you from your sleep. One knock after the other, four beats between each knock.

Tossing the covers away, you step out of bed. Muscles tough and sore, there’s an unease as you rub the sleep from your eye, feeling as though you’re encumbered in your own head. You take another heavy step, the knocking still not ceasing. One step after another until you reach the handle of the door, and only then does the knocking stop, floorboards creaking as the sound of footsteps shuffles away.

A minute goes by until you decide to open the door. The hallway is dark, the only light is coming from the window across the hall. You look towards the moon—there she is, full in all of her glory, bringing the spring equinox along with her. You walk towards the window, looking down towards the ground and noting that the snow has completely melted. There’s a dark, shadowy figure in your peripheral that breaks your appreciation for nature. Turning in the direction, there’s nothing in the distance. You follow, passing by the kitchen and making your way to the stairs. The shadow dissolves into the darkness at the top of the stairs, beckoning you to chase after it.

Once you reach the top of the stairs, there’s a sliver of light peering from the far end of the hallway. The trek over isn’t that long, and once you’re within a few feet you slowly approach the door, tiptoeing your way over. Creeping up to the doorframe, you hold your breath as you peek into the crack of the room. There’s not much to see, just a steady fire and its continuous cracking. Until you hear a moan and your eyes dart to the location of the sound.

There, you spot Jisung sprawled out on the chaise, half of his limbs hanging off as Minho straddles over him. Attached to his neck, Minho wastes most of his meal, letting blood slip from his mouth and drip down Jisung’s neck. You gasp, fully taken aback by the action you are witnessing. The townspeople were right to warn you—the Count is a monster. Or maybe something worse.

After the accidental announcement of your arrival, Jisung locks eyes with you. Your gaze, however, is stolen by Minho once he turns around, peering up from his feeding position. He’s wide-eyed with blackness covering the entirety of his eyes, lips and chin stained red with blood. Once Minho realizes it’s you who interrupted his feed, he gives you a wide, bloody smile—showing off the two sets of fangs at the top row of his teeth, the outer fangs just slightly bigger than the inner fangs. For a moment, time seems to slow down; you watch as a small droplet of blood drips from one of Minho’s fangs, and before it fully releases, Minho swipes it with his tongue, licking over his fangs for extra blood.

Before you can turn back and run, Minho is already behind you in the blink of an eye.

“Unfortunately, my dear, running is useless,” The Count grabs you by the collar of your pajamas and forcefully drags you into the room. You fight him off but your hits do nothing to him. Letting go of you, Minho pushes you onto the ground. “Stay.”

Jisung stands up from his position laying across the chaise, dipping a rag into a bowl of water sitting on the side table. You watch Jisung with inquisitive eyes as he wrings out the rag, carefully cleaning up the marks and the blood stained to his neck. Minho, meanwhile, is facing the fireplace with his arms crossed and one finger pressed to his lips. Jisung finishes cleaning himself up, and begins moving around to avoid eye contact with you. In horror, you watch as Jisung takes a tarantula out of its cage and places it into his mouth, chewing as he turns to walk out of the room—leaving you alone and helpless in the clutches of Count Minho.

Minho tsks once, then once more. A hand on his hip as he shakes his head. He extends his arm, quickly swiping away all of the candles and books the rest atop the fireplace as a loud, angry cry escapes from his chest.

“I thought that maybe,” Minho begins. “Just maybe. I’d have an extra night or two before having to do this to you. You’re a curious one, aren’t you?”

Minho turns to you. An insincere smile on his face, fangs hidden away but some of Jisung’s blood still covers his face. You spring to your feet, not wanting to stay on the ground when it’s clear that Minho has the advantage. Backing away from him slowly, eyes searching for anything to use as a weapon, though Minho can tell your every move.

“Did you..did you do that to Seungmin?” You’re near tears. They don’t fall, only brimming along your tear ducts.

Minho’s jaw clenches at the mention of Seungmin. “You really do care about him, huh? Seungmin this and Seungmin that. I fear your admiration for your lover has made you blind. You have played right into the palm of my hand, little lamb.”

“You want to know where Seungmin is? He’s dead.” Minho laughs. A deep belly laugh. “Though, it wasn’t me who did it.”

“Years ago, I showed Sir Kim something that I thought he could handle, only to find out otherwise. I promised him knowledge, the freedom to view the extensive, valuable, book collection within my library, at any time he chooses; and most importantly, the opportunity to discover something otherworldly—new to him, although very old to me. Something that could provide him everything he’s ever wanted. At least, that’s what this power did for me. Seungmin wanted to become a new man, and I was the only one who could offer that opportunity.”

“Then, two months ago, Seungmin showed up at the door. Exclaiming that while he wasn’t ready in the past, this time he’s ready to surrender his soul. Turns out, it was a ploy to kill me. I should’ve known better, truthfully. Seungmin is smart, almost as cunning as I, and well, he very nearly gave me a run for my money. But let’s just say, how should I put this, I have someone who is willing to do anything I say. Including kill.”

You shake your head in disgust, backing up from Minho; but he pursues.“What are you?”

“I once referred to myself as a God. However, over the years, I realized that I am God. I have seen men with beast-like abilities and looks, men with the ability to rise from the dead, but the simple power of those imbeciles doesn’t even come close to mine. It’s something entirely different.”

“I mean, you read that book didn’t you? A dull-looking half-dead creature with fangs? You’re quite different from Seungmin, but you’re still special. You might not have understood the text, but perhaps, you used context clues?” Minho continues, “You might not have known it, but your fiancé was a part of a very dark world, angel. You see, he was actually the one that wrote the book. And he left you blind to it all, not knowing of his inevitable future. And now, yours.”

Minho winks and moves closer to you with each word, though you take steps back, not wanting to be too close to him. Eventually your back hits the wall and Minho almost pressed against you. His sharp nails come up to your neck, tracing over until he finds exactly what he was looking for, inhaling deeply.

“Are you going to kill me, too?”

“There,” He taps the tip of his finger against your neck, just above your collarbone. The sharpness of the nail presses into your skin, breaking the initial layer, not deep enough to cause bleeding. “If I put my mouth right here, I could drain all of you in less than six seconds. Kill you? Heavens no, I actually believe that you’re pretty valuable to me.”

Minho looks into your eyes, passing along discomfort in the form of a stare. Then he pouts at you, mockingly.

“No need to be scared. I mean, it’s not like you can ever leave me, at this point, so it’s best you put your fear aside.” Minho smirks once more. “From the night you’ve arrived, you’ve been drinking my blood. I’m already inside of you. I know every little thought in that pretty little mind of yours, I’m in all of your dreams. And guess what? You will never, ever be able to get rid of me.”

“Now tell me, has Seungmin ever touched you like this?” Minho asks, the tips of his fingers tracing against your neck, palm cupping around your throat, he stands firm behind you. There’s dense heat against Minho’s fingertips and a slight burning sensation from the sharpness of his nails; it’s such an intense feeling, unlike any you’ve experienced before. As electrifying as the feeling of his touch is, it’s also revolting, horrendous. There was a spark whenever Seungmin touched you, but Minho’s touch is different; it burns in all of the right ways.

“I could give you things Seungmin would have never even dreamt about,” Minho’s voice is soft, silky. The heat of his breath against your skin tickles, but ignites a particular burning of desire. Minho is something similar to the devil and still, despite it all, there’s a familiar heat that creeps up within you. “I could open doors for you that were previously closed. Anything you want, could be yours. All you have to do is accept all of me.”

The hand that had previously been resting against the softness of your belly, is held out for you to accept. You stare down at his hand, biting your lip at the temptation. Minho plants his lips against your neck to give you one small kiss after another.

For the sake of Seungmin, you want to turn away. If this had been just a few days ago, you would have likely fought in honor of Seungmin. The entire reason you’re even here, in the Count’s castle, is because of Seungmin. And still, in spite of all of that, as much as it makes you feel physically ill, stomach turning at the thought, every single fiber of your being craves Minho. You can feel the heat of your bodies meshed together every time you imagine what it’s like to have him between your legs. When he looks into your eyes, it’s familiar—like home.

Every alarm is firing off and still, you put your hand in Minho’s—accepting his offer. Minho’s hand interlocks with yours, and you can feel him smile in between his tiny butterfly kisses. His hand holds yours tightly, as if he doesn’t want to let you go. Plump lips dragging against your skin, until he stops momentarily—taking a deep breath. Minho lets out a sharp, rich groan; knees throbbing as he bucks into you. And it’s at that moment you can feel Minho’s cock pressed heavily against your ass. Minho holds you against him, hips moving against your ass slightly, as he breathes in your scent.

The moment is broken once you feel four razor sharp punctures in your neck. Minho’s low, guttural moans vibrate against your skin as his teeth penetrate layers of skin. The feeling is strange—it stings and burns, but also has a light cooling sensation.

With the more blood Minho takes, the more his eyes fade into black until the whites are no longer exposed. Minho is absolutely captivated by the taste of your blood. It’s absolutely bewitching. He can taste every memory, every inch of trauma and pain, all of your love and most importantly, Minho can taste a bit of your soul—completely unguarded and vulnerable; ready for him to take and do as he pleases with.

Minho continues draining you of your blood. It’s around this time that your vision becomes blurry, the room grows disorienting, tipping from side to side with each blink. You’re clutching Minho’s hand as tight as you possibly can be, jaw slacking and freely giving away soft moans. Even though he’s drinking from you, Minho never stops the movement of his hips. Hand clutching your own, pressing your arm against your stomach firmly. His other hand is tight on your hip, holding you in place. Somehow, your body feels both light and heavy, like you’re nailed to your spot but also elevated, floating in space. Your eyelids are getting heavier, a milky white film covering your eyes as Minho continues to take and take from you.

By the time you feel like your legs are going to give out, Minho gives up on drinking from you. “I can’t believe you’ve been hidden from me all this time, my little lamb.”

Minho whispers into your ear, voice equal parts soft and sweet. The way he can easily slip between calm and composed and dominant and overbearing is scary.

“Let’s make this official, what do you say, love?” It’s less of a statement and more of a demand. Minho bites into his wrist, pushing it towards your mouth. But you refuse, attempting to turn away, though Minho does not allow it. Forcing your mouth open with his other hand, fingers dipping into your mouth, watching with a smirk on his face as droplets of his blood drip into your mouth one by one.

There’s not really any significant taste to Minho’s blood. Indeed, his blood is thicker than water—but also very smooth going down. Minho spins you around, lips fast against yours. This kiss is full of iron and spit, completely messy, tongues fighting against each other. You, surprisingly to Minho, are the one who deepens the kiss further, pressing your body against his. Hands running all over his body, tugging against his clothes.

You can feel yourself changing rapidly. Inside of you is a particular burning passion that you haven’t felt in years. It’s amplified when Minho’s fingers trickle up and down your sides. When the kiss parts, you and Minho lock eyes. Your chest rises, breathing in deeply because the room has gotten a hell of a lot hotter—or is the oxygen leaving your lungs?

Minho takes the lead this time, pushing you atop of the sofa. He stands over you almost menacingly, clouds of lust like darkness clouding his eyes. He takes the chest of his shirt and tears it in half with two hands, as easily as it takes one to blink. He lets the shirt fall from his body, pulling his arms from the sleeves. Unbuttoning his pants just slightly before he kneels on the couch beside you. His lips on yours once again, though briefly. Minho takes the fabric of your clothing and tears it in two, just as he did his own shirt. You’re completely exposed to him, completely naked beneath his stare. You put your arms up to shield your indecency, but Minho doesn’t allow it. Taking your wrists in his hands and pinning you to the comfort of the sofa.

Holding your wrists with one hand, Minho holds your jaw in his other hand. “Wish you could see how heavenly you look right now.”

At this moment, Minho decides that you’re the closest he’ll ever get to heaven. So does he worship this embodiment of a higher place? Or does he further defile it? Should he ravish you? Perhaps he should take his claim over a body and soul that is now his forever. The worship may come a little later. He looks down at you, a frenzied little fledgling overtaken by uncontainable lust. A near mirroring reflection of sin itself. You pupils are completely blown and the whites of your eyes grow into a red color. He stands tall above you, like a God. Eyes of lust looking back at you, so deeply into the crevices of what’s left in your soul.

You claw up at Minho, wanting to feel him. Wanting to be comforted by the glory that is Minho. The Ultimate Being—your master.

“Imagine if Seungmin were to see you like this, intoxicated with such lust—and none of it towards him,” Minho kissed over the spot where he bit you, planting more kisses against your neck. “Would he be pathetic? A coward who cums in his pants at the sight of another man touching you?”

Minho’s lips move from your collarbone to your chest, displaying a range of kisses against your skin. “Or would he demean you for disgracing him in such a way? Would he call you a whore at the sight of you, turning his face in disgust?”

Minho continues talking in between kisses against your skin. Lips kissing down the valley of your breast as his left hand creeps up to fondle your left breast. You moan at his touch, the coolness of his skin against the heat of yours. Minho looks up at you. “My precious little lamb isn’t a whore, are you?”

You shake your head vigorously at Minho’s statement. He can only laugh at you. He doesn’t believe it and deep inside, you don’t believe yourself either.

“Your whole purpose of being here was to find your fiancé, and instead, you’re beneath me and dripping onto the chaise. That doesn’t sound like something someone who’s not a whore would do, does it, little lamb?”

You shake your head in denial. Reaching up to him, dragging the tips of your fingers down his chest. With each exhale, with each minute that goes by, it becomes harder and harder to fight your cravings. Thrusting your hips up, gyrating in the air, trying to entice Minho into touching you. Unable to sort the words in your head to form a coherent sentence.

“But you’re fine with being a whore aren’t you?” Minho nods, pouting just slightly. When you’re not nodding along with him, he grabs you by your hair, forcing you to nod along with him. “What a good little lamb. From here on out, you’ll only be a whore for me, ok?”

Minho releases your hair from his clutches. Licking his palm, he drags it down from your navel to your cunt, pausing a moment to bury his fingers within the hair on your mound, slightly tugging at it. He teases you for the moment; fingertips feathering lighting against the skin of your inner thighs. He brings his fingers back to your cunt, dragging down your slit, teasing into your wetness. Minho circles over your clit with two fingers, watching your face as you bite your lip. Two of his fingers slowly slip inside of you soon after, thick, already knuckle deep inside of you.

Minho’s free hand finds a new position, tightening around your neck. The roughness of his hands is missed when he slides his hand down your chest, cupping your breast. He leans down, sucking your nipple into his mouth, coating it with saliva, teeth slightly grazing against it. He continues scissoring his fingers into you, thumb pressing down flat against your clit. Minho moves his thumb in tender circles, still applying pressure. Swollen lips leave a mess of spit on your breast, dripping onto his hand.

He lifts his head from his original position, eyes covering every inch of you. Once his eyes land on your cunt, Minho kneels—a quick kiss planted at your clit before he attaches his mouth to it, sucking you in. Warm, wet mouth slurping and licking, voice vibrating against your cunt. You moan into your hand, but Minho snatches it away; a quick, stern look up at you. The more he hears your moans, the sluttier and messier that Minho gets; moving away slightly to spit against your cunt, watching as it drips down to his fingers. All before he’s back at it, slurping and moaning against your cunt.

“Fucking cum,” Minho talks into your cunt. He speaks his demand into you. The climax hits you hard, cum spraying all over Minho’s face, even drenching a bit of his hair. It takes Minho and yourself by surprise, and you’re almost ready to cover your face in your hands, but Minho flashes the most gorgeous smile to you. Face soaked, licking his lips to taste more of you.

If he wasn’t firm about his desire to devour and conquer you, he was now. Minho fully undresses himself, cock hard and heavy, leaking and aching to be buried inside of you. It’s like your minds come together. Just with a touch you know the things that Minho wants to do to you. Your desires are equal and because of it, you’re a step ahead of him. Your eyes land on him, completely sucking into the visual of his cock. Large but not too veiny, a shade or two darker than the rest of his skin and it’s absolutely glorious. He’s thick, the tip of his cock heavy and shining with precum. It’s hard to keep your appetite for lust contained, and for a moment, you wonder why you’re even holding back—you’ve seen just a glimpse of freedom, is it too much to indulge and savor the taste of what you’re becoming?

Your movements are faster than what the logical part of your brain can comprehend. One moment you’re spread open and the next, you’re straddling Minho, hand caressing his face. Minho looks at you with such an insatiable gaze. He hadn’t read it in the cards that you could possibly take control of the situation, and it enthralls him—what a wonder you are. You grind against his cock, sliding your slick cunt across his shaft. Pressing your hands to his chest for balance, adjusting the speed of your grinding until you’ve finally found the spot that sets off the fireworks within your brain. Unfortunately, it’s not enough for Minho, grabbing your hips and pressing you onto his cock, controlling your movements. Other than the added pressure, Minho guides your hips just a tad bit faster.

Sliding up, you reach behind to hold Minho’s cock into your hand. It has a bit of weight to it and is slick with your juices. You tap the head of his cock against your cunt a time or two, then slowly sink down, engulfing him into your cunt. The thickness of his cock gives you a fervent sensation, cunt fluttering to take more of him, inch by inch.

You throw your head back as you continue riding Minho. There's a brief, but slight sting of pain when you open your mouth to moan. When you look towards Minho, mouth agape, he looks back at you with such adoration and awe—the first time you felt his genuineness for something other than rage. Minho helps you continue to ride him, his hands on your hips to guide you up and down his cock. You bring your tongue up to lick your lips when you finally notice the feeling of the fangs protruding from your gums.

The feeling of exhilaration encompasses your whole being. You can’t help but let out a laugh at the current situation. You feel elated. You feel powerful. Pure and utter bliss slowly peeking out beneath the many layers of lust.

“Bite me, my dear, go ahead.” Minho reassures you, a hand soothingly rubbing against your thigh.

You indulge in the opportunity. Sinking completely down on Minho’s cock, crying out at the sensation of being filled by him. You press your nose against his neck, breathing in Minho’s scent before you sink your fangs into his skin. You can feel the shift in your eyes when you drink from him. His blood tastes immaculate like this. What divine nectar he carries within. It’s insanely sweet—not exactly in a tart or sugary way; he tastes similar to fresh fruit.

You continue to drink from him, tongue licking haphazardly, unwilling to let any of Minho’s blood go to waste.

From his blood to his cock, Minho is all around you. You feel so full of him, and you are in every sense of the word. His arms wrap around you, caging you in as you take your time feeding from him. He moves a hand between the two of your bodies, thumb pressed against your clit to rub in circles. You gentle rock against him, slowly increasing the speed of your hips once you realize you’re fairly latched onto him. Unwilling to free him from your hold, you would die like this if needed.

Your climax hits you and transforms you into such a state of pure ecstasy. Every nerve in your body is electrified, and the blood of Minho amplifies that. Minho has you under a spell: blood coursing through your veins, cock pinned deep, spilling his cum inside of you. He’s so cold to touch, but you’re both on fire. It’s way too much yet you’re still captivated by him. Sent into overdrive, your body gets heavier—it's hard to control and you continue to take and take from Minho. It’s no problem to him, though; hand on your back to soothe as your body becomes stiff atop of him.

You awake in Minho’s arms, not completely sure of where you exactly are. The second you open your eyes, you’re not nearly ready for how extraordinarily bright the lights in the room are. You groan in response, but Minho is alert to soothe you.

“Be still, my little flower.” Minho is whispering, purposefully; he knows first-hand how troubling it can be to be reawakened like this. But still, his voice rings around your head.

How strange. You can hear every little sound a lot clearer, a lot louder. The initially faint crackling of the fireplace now louder than before despite the distance. The heat of the fire reaches you as well, blazing, although it does not stick. The ticking of the clock is a doomful reminder of the passage of time. Then you look at Minho, and you can hear how hollow he is. There’s an absence within him, a huge, dark, cavernous hole. He is nothing more than a host for whatever this disease is that he has given you. A man without a soul.

And still. He holds the entire world in his hands.

“There’s so much I have to teach you,” Minho expresses this with great excitement. He presses a chalice of blood to your lips and just a whiff of the smell puts you in a daze; salivating and feigning to taste. “Now here, drink up.”

#🌑 — vivid dreams #🌑 — vividdream.skz #lee minho x reader #lee minho smut #minho smut #stray kids smut #lee know smut #skz smut

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revelboo · 19 days ago

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Who is your favorite Cybertronian to write for? If you don't mind me asking!

To write for? I think I’m having the most fun writing the Scavengers right now. I like dysfunctional group dynamics, but the Trine’s probably my second favorite group. For a single Cybertronian? Probably Wasp 😆

I’m so sorry for this- but I have weird ideas early in the morning and couldn’t help but think there’d be a reality out there where the war ended before it reached Earth. That maybe Earth gets discovered by Swindle and a few other opportunists. And he’d just be scooping up humans by the handfuls to sell as ‘pets/toys.’

18+

No Strings

Rainmakers x Reader

• “Nova’s just under a lot of stress lately and I’d heard that you-” Words faltering as Acid Storm follows Swindle into the back of the ship and his optics slide up to the video screens playing above the rows of cages. Wings flicking slightly at the sounds, the whimpers and moans. “Ah.” What was he saying? When he’d heard about Swindle’s operation, he’d laughed at first. Because it had sounded like a bad joke. But then he’d kept thinking about it. Gotten curious.

• “Nothing better for stress than a good frag,” Swindle says, grinning and gesturing to the row of cages. “And fragging is pretty much all these things do. Why they’re separated. They may take some breaking in and training, but I’ve got all the supplies you’ll need.” Turning to watch the Seeker bend to look into a cage, frowning when the human scoots to the far side. “They’re a bit skittish at first.” Why he’d paid Shockwave to synthesize him doses of what Swindle had affectionately dubbed Playtime. A little chemical pheromone, that when added to their water guaranteed not only cooperation, but enthusiasm. And a continued source of shanix after the initial sale as his buyers returned for more.

• “They look kind of like squishy, little Cybertronians,” Acid Storm mutters as he taps the front of a cage to send the little creature inside scurrying to the back, chattering at him. Is it speaking? “Are they sentient?” Drifting to the next cage, his wings flick. Keeps getting distracted by the vids.

• “Of course not. Smart enough to train, though.” Folding his arms behind his back, Swindle watches the Seeker wander around the room to inspect the pets. “That said, all sales are final and no sampling the merchandise.”

• Stopping at a cage with a pet curled into a back corner, he taps the door. Frightened eyes lift to stare at him, but you’re not leaking like some of the pets at least or screaming. Seem docile enough as you turn your little face away, hair brushing your shoulder. Submissive might be fun. “Can I see this one?”

• They’re back. When the monstrous robots show up, someone gets taken away. And they’d stopped in front of your cage. When you’d woken up confused and frightened here, you’d tried to talk to the guy in the cage beside yours only to realize you couldn’t understand each other. Hadn’t been able to yell loud enough over the damn porn looping on the screens to be heard by anyone who spoke your language either. And the robot acting as caretaker either can’t understand you or doesn’t care. When the familiar one opens your cage door, you make a doomed attempt to avoid that big hand and cry out when you get pinned to the side of the cage and grabbed anyway. As they talk about you in their growling, alien gibberish, you try to wriggle free before realizing how high up you are. Don’t know what they want with you, but given the porn? You’re have a pretty good idea and you sincerely hope you’re wrong. Because there’s no way you’re meant for that with these giants.

• Venting softly as Swindle lifts you free and places you in his hands, Acid Storm can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his servos as he strokes soft skin. And you go still and docile in his grip, breathing rapidly. Afraid or cold? You’re shivering against him. Running a servo up your frame to tip your chin his way, you grab on with both tiny hands. Head lifting from those pretty eyes when Swindle brings over a little harness and carefully puts in on you, attaching a length of leash. “That’s too short,” he says and Swindle just grins.

• “Not when you’re mass displaced. Trust me, you’ll want it for training them to take a spike.” Filling a crate with food, water, and blankets, he holds up the bottle of Playtime. “Before you try to frag them, dose them. Just make sure not to exceed the recommended dosage.” Otherwise their little hearts can stop, but he keeps that to himself, seeing the Seeker already frowning. “They can be a bit skittish the first time. You’ll want this.”

• Frowning as Swindle adds the tiny bottle to your supplies, he runs a servo over you and glances up at the screens. “How much for the pet?”

#transformers x reader #acid storm #Acid Storm x Reader #rainmakers x reader

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bluecollarmcandtf · 6 months ago

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Used Meat-Suit For sale!

Sup Internet! Like the title says, I'm selling this old thing, so hmu if you're interested in him.

I've been wearing this guy for years now, so I don't really remember where I got him. I think he was a lineman on some football team; and with his 6'-7", 280lb body, he was probably really good at it! He might've been called Paul or Pete maybe, but I've just been wearing him to do yard work around my house, so I haven't used his name. My neighbors all assume he's my personal landscaper or something. I usually pull some XL khaki coveralls over him when I take him outside, but I figured any buyer's gonna want to see as much of him as this website allows.

Also, please ignore his boner! I may have had a final jerk in that thing before hopping out. I just wanted one more, for old time's sake! If you've ever had a meat-suit before, then you know it sort of pauses where you leave it. His limbs don't stiffen or anything; he's like a limp ragdoll when no one's inside, but all the background changes that occur over time like hair growth, muscle loss, and yes-boner deflation just stay the same as you left it.

I'm looking to get around $500 for him, but I'm open to haggle if you want. There's nothing wrong with him! I take great care of all my suits, but he is still a little dirty from the last time I used him to mow the lawn.

That's it! Can't think of much else to say that'll convince you to buy him. I mean he's a great thing to throw on when you have some heavy lifting to do! Or maybe you wanna get into football with him! I'm sure there's still some memory of the game in those muscles. You might have to hit the gym first; he's strong, but I definitely did not keep up whatever insane workouts he was doing before I took over. He was a fucking muscle-ox back then!

Reach out if you're interested! I'm not even going to try to ship him though. He's way too heavy. You'll have to stop by and pick him up. Shouldn't be hard though because you can just wear him out the door!

Disclaimer: If you haven't owned a genuine human bodysuit before, it is a responsibility! You have to put them on every so often to shower, shave, brush their teeth, and everything. These things are real bodies that still sweat, grow, and get fat if you just leave them lying around. Take care of your shit!

#body theft #meatsuit #meat puppets #male possession #gay ai art

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candycandy00 · 6 months ago

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My Sweet Pet - A Suo x Reader x Sakura Fanfic Part 1

You’re a hybrid cat girl in a pet shop, and Sakura Haruka is a fellow hybrid in the cage beside you. After becoming friends, he promises to protect you. A week later, you’re both purchased by Suo Hayato.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Smut. 18+. Fem reader. Hybrid AU. Suo and Sakura are bisexual. Hand jobs. Fingering. Voyeurism. All characters aged up! Humiliation. Dividers by @anitalenia and @benkeibear!

You were only at the hybrid pet shop for three days before you met Sakura Haruka. You were scared and alone, the only cat hybrid there, so you were excited to see him. His ears were each a different color, matching his unusual hair, and they twitched cutely as he looked around the store.

When he was pushed into the cage next to yours, you greeted him somewhat shyly, just happy to see another cat. He’d turned red and looked away from you, but when you asked his name, he muttered it quietly. He never started conversations with you, but he almost always answered when you asked him something directly. It took you a few days to realize he wasn’t being rude, he just hadn’t been properly socialized.

His unique coloring made him stand out, and lots of potential buyers were interested in him, but his almost feral behavior turned them all away. He didn’t like being touched, and hated being talked to like a pet. He would hiss and scratch at anyone who tried to pat his head.

In your case, your shyness made most buyers look elsewhere. Cat hybrids were expected to be forward and even a bit aggressive, but you were as shy as a bunny. Haruka was the only one you ever spoke to.

One day, while Haruka was out of his cage, being examined by a buyer, he snapped over something they said and clawed at them. The owner used his remote to trigger the shock collar around Haruka’s neck, just like the one you wear. Haruka kept getting back up despite the obvious pain he was in, but eventually he collapsed onto the hard floor.

Later that evening, you noticed a bad scrape on his wrist, probably from when he hit the floor. With your cages side by side, only a row of bars separated you. Thinking only of helping him, you ripped a piece of your dress off from the bottom and reached through the bars, gently taking hold of his injured wrist.

He froze, staring at you, his face red, his hair seeming to stand up on end. But he didn’t pull away as you wrapped the strip of fabric around his wrist. “I don’t know if this will help,” you told him, “but I can’t stand doing nothing when you’re hurt.”

The blush deepened on his cheeks as he mumbled a quick “thank you”.

From that day on, he seemed a little more friendly with you, a little more willing to talk to you. Through the bars of your cages, you became friends.

One night after closing time, you confessed to Haruka that you’re scared of being purchased, of being someone’s pet. “I know these little cages are miserable,” you told him, “but at least we’re here together.”

He turned red again, and in a quiet voice said, “Don’t be scared. I promise I’ll protect you.”

And with those words, you fell in love.

Now, one week later, the door to the shop opens and a strange man walks in. He’s the most beautiful human you’ve ever laid eyes on. He wears an eyepatch over one eye, and long earrings dangling elegantly from each ear. He’s dressed handsomely, and his movements are graceful and smooth as he sweeps around the store, looking into the various cages.

When he stops in front of your cage and peers in, you feel your face heating up and your heart racing. There’s something magnetic about him, demanding your attention. He stares at you with an enigmatic smile before moving on to look at Haruka.

Looking into the cage beside you, it’s a bit of a shock to see that even Haruka seems drawn by the man’s striking beauty. Instead of his usual glares and hisses, he’s simply staring back at the man, his face growing pink.

The shop owner approaches to speak to the man, who gestures toward your cage and says, “I’d like to take a closer look at her, if that’s alright.”

Your heart nearly stops. This unbelievably beautiful man wants to look at you?

The owner opens your cage and pulls you out, leaving you standing in the middle of the store awkwardly. You’re so nervous under this buyer’s piercing gaze that you’re trembling.

“A shy cat?” The buyer asks. “How unusual.”

The owner seems to notice the buyer’s interest. “Yes, she’s very unusual! Shy as a bunny, docile as a sheep!”

You shudder as the owner steps closer to you and begins pulling up your simple white dress. “You can check out the details if you want,” he says.

Your terrified eyes shift to Haruka. You don’t want him to look, but at the same time, you’re seeking comfort in his face. He’s gripping the bars of his cage so tightly, you don’t know how they haven’t broken, his face twisted in anger as he glares at the owner.

The buyer suddenly interrupts. “That won’t be necessary.”

The owner drops your dress, and you exhale the breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“I’ll take her,” the beautiful man says, and you look up at him in shock. He wants you?! Your heart begins pounding rapidly. You’d be lying if you said there wasn’t some part of you that’s excited to be chosen by a man like him, but you love Haruka, and you’re still frightened by the idea of having an owner, no matter how gorgeous he is.

You look at Haruka again, and he looks horrified. As tears begin to well up in your eyes, you hear him scream out in frustration, and then two of the bars snap loose from the cage. Haruka jumps out, lunging for the buyer, who doesn’t seem the least bit worried as he smoothly dodges the feral cat.

The owner hurries to pull the remote from his pocket to trigger the shock collar, turning it to full blast to make Haruka go down fast.

Haruka is on the floor, his body jerking as the collar shoots him with electricity. He’s glaring at the owner and the buyer. “Don’t… take her!” he forces out.

You start toward him, tears dripping down your face. “Stop hurting him!” you cry at the owner.

The buyer, completely unfazed, walks over to Haruka and looks down at him. “Is this your friend?” he asks, his one visible eye sliding over to you.

You nod, too upset to speak. Haruka is growling as he looks up at the man.

The owner is sweating, holding the remote in his shaky hand. “I apologize, sir! This one has been too wild since he got here! I’ll make sure to discipline him later!”

The buyer smiles. “Actually, I think I’ll take both of them!”

You and Haruka both freeze and stare at him, then glance at each other.

“You just want to protect your friend, right?” the buyer asks Haruka. “If I buy you too, you can come with her. That should fix everything.”

Haruka has already stopped struggling, but his body was still clearly tense until just now. “Just… don’t hurt her,” Haruka says.

The buyer squats down close to Haruka and says, “I can’t promise that, but at least you’ll be there to watch over her, right?”

Haruka seems to deflate, all fight leaving his body. “Fine. Take us both.”

“Excellent!” the buyer says cheerfully as he stands up. “I’m Suo Hayato. I’ll be your owner starting today! Let’s all get along.”

The next hour passes in a blur. Paperwork is signed, both you and Haruka are restrained even though Suo insists there’s no need, and the two of you are pushed into the back of a fancy black vehicle to be driven to your new home.

Suo’s house is huge, extravagant, the kind of place you never imagined you would even walk inside. It looks like a palace to your eyes as he leads you inside.

After stepping into a lovely, fully furnished bedroom, he says, “This one is yours. I believe everything you could possibly need is already here, but let me know if there’s anything I’ve forgotten. Take a bath, put on fresh clothes, and come to my room within the hour. I’ll have one of the servants lead the way for you.”

Once he’s gone, you begin looking around the lavish bedroom. It’s unlike anything you’ve ever seen in your life. Everything is so… beautiful. You look in the closet to find a collection of pretty dresses, all of them in the same style but with different patterns. They seem just slightly short for you, with thin straps at the top. You select one covered with pale pink flowers on white.

You notice with some alarm that there’s no underwear of any kind. Is this one of the things Suo forgot? You make a mental note to ask for some as you climb into the large ceramic tub to take your bath.

When finished, you dry yourself and your hair with a towel, and pull on the lovely dress. As you thought, it’s a little too short for your comfort, barely coming below your hips. With no underwear on, you feel especially uncomfortable. Being very careful to walk slowly, to avoid your dress coming up, you go to the bedroom door to tell the waiting servant that you’re ready.

They lead you down an ornate hallway and to a glossy wooden door. They knock twice, then open it and motion for you to step inside. You barely clear the door before they close it behind you, sending you in alone.

You quickly spot your new owner sitting in a high backed leather chair. He stands when you approach, and looks you up and down. “The dress looks great on you. Very pretty.”

You can’t help blushing at the compliment. An extraordinarily beautiful person called you pretty!

Then he look over to the side and says, “Sakura, doesn’t she look pretty?”

You turn to look, and see that Haruka is kneeling on the floor, his hands still restrained behind his back. He’s glaring at Suo.

“Haruka!” you exclaim, then look to Suo. “Why is he still restrained?”

Suo gives you a friendly smile. “He exhibited some violent tendencies at the shop. This is just a precaution until I’m sure he can be trusted not to hurt anyone. Don’t worry, he hasn’t been harmed, and he’ll get his own private room just like yours.”

You look at Haruka with a worried expression, but he doesn’t seem hurt, or even angry. He averts his eyes from yours, his cheeks growing pink as he mutters, “I’m fine.”

Suo stands behind you, subtly turning you so that you’re facing Haruka, who is only a few feet away. The room is well lit, a little brighter than you expected, and a little cooler.

Your owner runs one hand down your arm, the touch so soft it leaves goosebumps. “Sakura, you didn’t answer me,” Suo says. “Don’t you think she’s pretty?”

You flush with heat where Suo’s hands touch you, and you look away from Haruka. You’re in love with him, but you don’t know what he thinks of you.

“Yeah,” he says, “she’s pretty.”

You look back at him to find his face red, his eyes looking to the side.

Suo’s hand moves back up your arm, over your shoulder, ghosting over the shock collar around your neck. “I bet you’ve never been shocked before,” he says.

You shake your head, and Sakura’s ears and eyes seem to perk up in alarm.

Suo smiles. “Of course not. A sweet, innocent little cat like you is well behaved. Being shocked hurts very bad, doesn’t it Sakura?”

Haruka slowly nods, his eyes focused on Suo.

“Don’t worry,” Suo says. “As long as everyone behaves, you’ll never experience that kind of pain.”

Haruka frowns, staring daggers at your new owner.

Suo’s hands move down to the hem of your dress, and start to draw it upward. You quickly try to hold it down. “Wait! Y-you didn’t leave me any underwear in my room.”

He leans his face in close to your ear. You can’t see him behind you, but you can feel his body heat against your trembling back. “I know. You won’t be needing any here,” he says.

You feel panic rising within you. “But..!”

“It’s okay,” he says soothingly, “It’s just the three of us here. Sakura and I will take good care of you. We just want to see how pretty you are. You’ll show us, right?”

Your shaky hands let go of the dress, and he slowly pulls it up, revealing your body in the brightly lit room, pulling it over your head and tossing it onto the floor. You slam your eyes shut, far too embarrassed to see Haruka’s face. You feel Suo move from behind you, then hear his voice say, “Open your eyes, kitten.”

You shake your head. “I can’t!”

His hands are on your face. “Open your eyes for me. Don’t be embarrassed. We both think you’re beautiful.”

You crack your eyes open and find Suo’s heavenly face close to yours. You blush, your tail swishing nervously behind you. He backs up a few steps to stand next to Haruka, who is pointedly looking away from you.

Suo squats down and says something to Haruka that you can’t hear. Haruka’s eyes widen, his gaze snaps sharply to Suo, then a growl emanates from his mouth. Suo simply smiles at him.

A few seconds pass, then Haruka finally looks at you. His face is redder than ever, his mouth slightly open as his bi-colored eyes move up your body. Ahh, it’s so embarrassing! To have two handsome men, fully clothed, staring at your exposed body… it’s almost overwhelming. But you can’t deny the strange thrill that’s shooting through you. Haruka is looking at you so intently!

Suo steps over to the high backed chair and pulls it to you, positioning it so that it’s facing Haruka. Then Suo sits down and pats his lap. “Sit,” he tells you.

He’s smiling pleasantly, his voice calm, but there’s an underlying tinge of authority that makes you hurry to comply.

You ease yourself down on his thighs, and his hands move to your waist to slide you back against him. Your heart pounds furiously as his fingers graze over your thighs.

“Let’s show Sakura this pretty pussy, okay?”

You shudder in his lap, turning your head to look at his face, then back at Haruka’s. “It’s… too embarrassing…”

Suo’s voice at your ear is maddeningly smooth. “I told you, there’s nothing to be embarrassed for. You’re beautiful.”

With his hands, he pulls your legs apart, hooking each one over his own knees to keep them spread. You whimper, but Suo holds you firmly in place. “You have to keep your legs open so Sakura can see.”

One of his hands lightly rubs your inner thigh as his lips move close to your ear again. In a sultry whisper only you can hear, he says, “You love Sakura, don’t you?”

Your breath catches in your throat.

“It’s obvious to me,” he says, his hand moving closer and closer to your pussy. “But I don’t think Sakura realizes it yet. So let’s tell him.”

You turn to look at Suo, tears rapidly filling your eyes. “No, please! Don’t tell him!” you whisper back frantically.

Suo laughs. “Oh, I’m not going to tell him. You are. Confess your love, right here, right now.”

Now?! While you’re naked, spread open in another man’s lap?! It’s unthinkable. You look at Haruka, who is staring at you with an unreadable expression. It looks like he’s breathing fast.

“Please, I can’t do it like this,” you say.

Suo’s fingers finally reach your silky folds, and you feel him spread them apart, exposing you even more. “This is the best way to do it,” he whispers. “Any man would love to have a beautiful woman tell him she loves him while her pretty, wet pussy is on display for him.”

You gasp as one of his fingers brushes over your clit, the sudden pleasure sending a shockwave through your body.

“Sakura, she has something to tell you,” Suo says, looking at the other cat who is still on his knees on the floor, his arms behind his back.

You lock eyes with him. “Haruka… I… I’m in love with you!”

You didn’t think it was possible for his face to get redder, but it just did. His hair seems to be standing up again, his ears twitching wildly. But he doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t answer your confession of love.

Suo’s fingers are playing with you, his touch gentle but invasive. One finger slips inside you, making you quiver, while his thumb strokes your clit. You let out a humiliating moan, wishing Haruka wasn’t seeing this. Finally you close your eyes, leaning your head back against Suo’s warmth, having no more will to fight the pleasure rippling through you.

You’re becoming wetter and wetter, Suo’s probing fingers making lewd sounds that seem to echo in the room, your own moans nearly overtaking them. You keep your eyes firmly closed. You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to look at Haruka after this.

The pleasure hits its peak, you cry out loudly as clear fluid squirts out around Suo’s fingers, absolutely drenching them. He holds you through your orgasm, his fingers still stroking and pumping, until you go quiet and still in his lap. Then he withdraws his hand and says, “You did well. Now go back to your room and get some rest.”

You don’t waste any time. You’re far too embarrassed to stay any longer than necessary. Without even glancing at Haruka, you pull your dress back on and hurry out the door.

*******************************

Sakura glares at his new owner, wanting nothing more than to break free and claw the man’s stupid pretty face off.

The owner, Suo stands up from his chair and walks over to Sakura. “Still mad at me?” he asks, that irritatingly calm smile on his face.

“You said you wouldn’t hurt her if I watched,” Sakura practically growls out.

“Did she seem to be in any pain? I didn’t hurt her. You did.”

“Me?!”

Suo’s phony smile is replaced by a phony frown. “The poor girl bared her heart to you, among other things, and you ignored her. I thought you loved her too.”

Sakura did love her. Of course he did. But he hadn’t been able to say that in the moment. It was too awkward, too controlled by the manipulative bastard standing over him.

Suo sighs and holds out his hand. It’s still dripping. “Looks like she made a mess on my hand. Hmm, I wonder how she tastes…”

As Suo slowly lifts his hand, Sakura lunges forward, wrapping his lips around three of the other man’s glistening fingers, hungrily sucking her juices off them. He’s never tasted anything so sweet.

Suo makes no attempt to stop him, instead he looks quite pleased. He squats down to be at eye level with Sakura, his one eye gleaming as he watches his pet suck his fingers. With his free hand, Suo slips his hand down the front of Sakura’s pants, feeling the raging erection.

“Have you had this the whole time? I didn’t realize it would turn you on so much to watch another man pleasure her.”

Sakura wants to tell him to shut up, but he can’t bring himself to let those deliciously coated fingers slip out of his mouth. He feels Suo’s warm hand softly stroking his cock, and to his horror, he likes the sensation. His body is responding, his cock twitching in the other man’s grasp, quick little moans creeping out around Suo’s fingers. Just when he thinks he’s on the edge of cumming, Suo suddenly withdraws both hands.

Sakura is left panting, spit and other fluids on his lips and chin, his cock throbbing in his pants. With his arms restrained, he can’t even jack off. He growls in frustration.

Suo laughs and tosses a pillow on the floor next to him. “Looks like you’ll have to find another way to get off.”

Sakura gives a look that could almost kill, then crawls over and begins grinding desperately against the pillow, trying to create any friction at all. It’s humiliating, but he has no choice at this point.

“Getting close?” Suo asks, standing over him. “Try remembering how she looked in my lap, all spread out for you. How she mewled and cried when she came. How pretty her face was when she told you she’s in love with you…”

“Ah… fuck!” Sakura yells, his cum shooting out across the pillow and the floor, staining both. As he lays panting, collapsed onto his side, Suo heads toward the door.

“Try to get some sleep. I might be so kind as to let you touch her tomorrow.”

The he turns off the light and shuts the door, leaving Sakura alone in the darkness.

#suo x reader x sakura #suo x reader #sakura x reader #suo hayato x reader #suo hayato #sakura haruka x reader #sakura haruka #wind breaker smut #wind breaker x reader #x reader

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212-apricity · 2 months ago

Text

siren songs and stolen kisses, dead calm

ssask masterlist main masterlist

cant take school anymore, i hate boys and im getting my hair highlighted😍😍

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*

The warm glow of the setting sun filtered through the overgrown trees surrounding the Chateau as we gathered around the weathered picnic table. Kie, Sarah, and I huddled over Pope’s latest diagram, his attempt at outlining the plan to lower John B into the well.

“It’s... um,” Sarah started, cocking her head at the page.

Kie interrupted, grinning. “It’s something, for sure.”

I laughed, holding up the paper and pointing to a wobbly figure in the middle. “Pope, is this supposed to be John B? Because if it is, he’s looking a little worse for wear.”

“It’s a diagram,” Pope defended, snatching the paper back and holding it protectively. “Not a work of art. You’re lucky I even did this, I’ve got so much revision to do.”

“Did you draw this with your eyes closed?” Sarah teased, leaning in to get a closer look.

Kie was still chuckling when JJ sauntered over, a lopsided grin on his face and that signature confident bounce in his step. “What’s so funny?” he asked, dropping down onto the bench next to me and propping his elbows on the table.

“Pope’s artistic skills,” I answered, still giggling as I motioned to the paper.

JJ took one look at it and let out a dramatic gasp. “Pope, man, this is tragic. This isn’t a diagram; it’s a crime against humanity.”

“You’re a crime against humanity,” Pope muttered, glaring at him.

“Alright, alright,” JJ said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. Then, leaning back and crossing his arms, he smirked. “Hate to ruin the fun, but we’ve got a problem.”

“Of course we do,” Kie muttered.

JJ ignored her, looking directly at John B. “Bro, those gold bars you’re all giggling about? They’ve got wheat symbols on them, no one’s gonna touch ’em. Too traceable. Even the sketchiest buyers will ask questions.”

Sarah rolled her eyes. “Of course, you’d be the expert in criminal logistics.”

“Thank you, it’s a gift,” JJ shot back, throwing up his hands in mock modesty.

“Okay,” Kie said, crossing her arms and grinning. “I have an idea.”

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

The sound of the furnace roared in the background as Pope’s dad’s workshop turned into a makeshift forge. The gold bars sat in the center of the flames, glowing brighter by the second. The heat was stifling, and sweat clung to everyone’s skin as we watched the transformation take place.

Kie and Pope monitored the melting process while JJ and I slipped outside for some fresh air.

JJ grabbed my hand, tugging me toward the roof of the Chateau. “C’mon, Princess. Best view in the Outer Banks.”

We climbed up, the cool evening breeze instantly relieving the sticky heat of the workshop. From the roof, the world stretched out before us, the ocean glittering in the fading light and the stars beginning to twinkle in the darkening sky.

I sighed, letting the peacefulness of the moment wash over me. JJ, however, couldn’t stay still for long. He leaned back on his elbows, his gaze fixed on me rather than the view.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked, noticing his lingering stare.

“You,” he said simply, his voice soft.

I rolled my eyes, smiling. “Smooth.”

He laughed, leaning closer. “What can I say? I’m a natural.”

My phone buzzed in my pocket, breaking the moment. I pulled it out and frowned when I saw the name on the screen: Gray.

“Who’s that?” JJ asked, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

I hesitated before answering. “Gray.”

JJ’s relaxed expression shifted immediately. “Why’s he texting you?”

I opened the message, reading aloud. “I don’t know. He said, ‘Hey, you free tomorrow?’”

JJ’s jaw tightened, and I could see the gears turning in his head. “Why’s he asking you that?”

“I don’t know, J,” I said honestly. “I haven’t talked to him in like forever. Not since we broke up like almost a year ago anyway”

JJ raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” I insisted, my voice firm. “It’s probably just a stupid joke or something. Trust me, JJ.”

He studied me for a moment before nodding, though the tension in his shoulders didn’t fully disappear. “Alright, but if he tries anything—”

“You’ll punch him in the throat?” I finished for him, a teasing smile on my lips.

JJ smirked. “Damn right.”

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

JJ was grumbling as we approached the counter, Pope’s plan weighing heavily on his shoulders. “Why do I have to sell this piece of shit? Can’t someone else deal with this?”

“Because you’re the best liar,” Pope said matter-of-factly.

“Flattered,” JJ muttered sarcastically as he offered me his arm to hold.

JJ and I stepped into the dimly lit pawn shop, the bell above the door jingling like an ominous warning. The air inside was stale, carrying the faint scent of cigarette smoke and something metallic. The walls were lined with dusty shelves holding everything from old typewriters to outdated TVs. Behind the counter, a woman in her late 50s, wearing a stained T-shirt and glasses perched on the end of her nose, glanced up from her newspaper.

“Can I help you?” she asked, her tone flat and uninterested.

JJ strode confidently to the counter, pulling the gold nugget out of his pocket and placing it down with a dramatic flourish. “Got something you’re gonna wanna see.”

The woman leaned over, squinting at the piece. She picked it up, turning it under the light, then snorted. “Looks like spray-painted tungsten.”

JJ’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t lose his cool. “Spray -painted tungsten? Oh, come on now. Test it. You know, science and all that.”

The woman rolled her eyes but grabbed a small testing kit from under the counter. As she worked, JJ leaned back on his elbows, looking far too smug for someone in our precarious situation.

I nudged him with my elbow. “Could you act a little less cocky for once?” I whispered.

“Relax,” he whispered back, his lips twitching into a smirk. “I’ve got this under control.”

The woman ran the tests in silence, her frown deepening with each result. When she finally looked up, there was a glint of interest in her eyes. “Where’d you get this?”

JJ didn’t miss a beat. “My mom. It’s all her old jewellry.”

“That’s a lot of earrings,” the woman said skeptically, crossing her arms.

Before JJ could answer, I stepped in, putting on my best look of heartbreak. “It’s been really hard watching my fiance’s mom fall apart with Alzheimer’s,” I said, my voice trembling just enough to sell the lie. “She doesn’t even remember where it came from anymore.”

JJ shot me a sideways glance, his eyebrows raising slightly, but he quickly masked his surprise. The woman seemed to kind of buy it, though. She softened, her gaze flickering between the two of us.

She disappeared into the back, presumably to speak with her boss or prepare an offer. The second she was out of sight, JJ turned to me, a mischievous grin spreading across his face.

“Fiancé?” he teased, leaning closer.

I shrugged nonchalantly, hiding my own grin. “Seemed believable.”

JJ chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re unbelievable. Maybe even a better liar than I am.”

I felt his lips brush against my cheek, a feather-light kiss that made my heart skip a beat. “Looks like I’m a bad influence on you princess,” he murmured.

Before I could respond, the woman returned, holding a clipboard. “Alright,” she said, placing it down on the counter. “Talked to my boss. Let’s talk numbers.”

What followed was a tense back-and-forth negotiation. JJ, ever the smooth talker, leaned into his natural charm and wit, throwing out lines like, “Come on, you’re not gonna find gold like this anywhere else,” and, “You’re practically robbing me at that price.”

Eventually, they settled on a number that was just shy of what we’d hoped for.

“There’s just one problem,” the woman said, her tone turning serious. “I don’t have the cash here. You’ll need to head to the warehouse to finalize the deal.”

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

The Twinkie rattled along the uneven road, the faint hum of its engine the only sound cutting through the night. John B had one hand on the wheel, the other drumming absentmindedly against the dashboard. The rest of us sat in varying states of exhaustion and tension, the adrenaline from the pawnshop still buzzing faintly in the air.

"Alright," John B muttered, leaning back in his seat. "Next stop, the warehouse. We trade this hunk of melted gold for cash, and then we’re golden—pun intended."

Pope groaned from the backseat. "That was terrible, John B."

"You’re terrible," he shot back with a grin, turning around briefly to shoot Pope a look before everyone drifted into meaningless conversations.

The mood was light, for once. Too light. My stomach twisted with a sense of foreboding, like the calm before the storm.

“Hey, is that—” Kie started from the back, leaning forward to peer out the windshield.

“What the hell?” John B muttered, slowing the Twinkie to a crawl.

Before we could process what was happening, bright lights flared behind us. I twisted around to see another car screech to a stop, pulling us over.

“Shit,” JJ hissed, straightening up in his seat. His hands frantically wrapping the gold in a microfibre cloth before shoving it in the under seat as everyone panicked.

The driver of the car in front of us stepped out, his face partially obscured by a skull mask covering the lower half. He was mediu, height, broad-shouldered, and moved with a casual menace that made my skin crawl.

“I don’t like this,” Pope muttered under his breath.

The masked man approached the driver’s side window, tapping the glass with the barrel of a pistol. “Out of the car,” he ordered, his voice muffled but firm.

John B hesitated, gripping the steering wheel tightly. “Look, man, we don’t want any trouble—”

“Did I ask for a fucking speech?” the man snapped, slamming his palm against the window. “Out. Now.”

“Just do it John B,” JJ said, his voice low and urgent. He glanced at me, his jaw tight. “Stay close to me.”

JJ stepped out the car first, his chest puffed out and shoulders squared, a reckless fire blazing in his eyes. "You really think you can just take our shit and walk away?"

Barry stopped mid-step, turning back toward JJ with a slow, mocking chuckle. "Kid, I’ve got a gun, and you’ve got a mouth. Wanna see which one wins?"

“Don’t,” I whispered urgently, grabbing JJ’s arm. His muscles were taut beneath my fingers, trembling with barely-contained rage.

“Listen to the girl,” Barry sneered. “Wouldn’t want pretty boy over here getting hurt.”

JJ’s jaw clenched, his lips pressing into a tight line. For a second, I thought he might actually lunge at Barry.

Barry raised his pistol, aiming it squarely at JJ’s chest. My heart leapt into my throat, a wave of cold panic crashing over me.

“Lie down,” Barry ordered, his voice low and menacing. “All of you. Face down in the ditch. Now.”

We hesitated, glancing at each other.

“Do it!” he barked, firing a warning shot into the air.

The crack of the gunshot made me flinch. JJ’s hand found mine again, squeezing tightly as we moved to lie down in the dirt.

As I pressed my face against the cold gravel, I felt JJ shift closer to me, his body positioned protectively between me and Barry.

Barry’s eyes landed on me and Sarah next to each other, and his smirk returned. “And who do we have here? The little princesses slumming it with the Pogues? You really are scraping the bottom of the barrel, Maybank. You too Routledge.”

“Shut the fuck up,” John B snapped, his voice like a whip.

“Hey, asshole!” JJ suddenly yelled, his voice cutting through the tension. “Say one more thing about her, and I swear—”

“JJ,” I hissed, my heart hammering in my chest with anxiety “Please stop.”

Barry laughed, a cruel sound that made my skin crawl. “Cute. Real cute. Maybe I should take her with me, huh? Teach you a lesson.”

That was the breaking point. JJ surged upward, his fists clenched, but before he could fully rise, Barry kicked him back down.

“Stay down, hero,” Barry growled, pressing the barrel of his gun to JJ’s temple.

JJ froze, his entire body trembling with suppressed fury.

I couldn’t take it anymore. Nor could Kie. “Stop it!” she shouted from her place next to Sarah, her voice cracking. “You’ve got what you want! Just leave us alone!”

Barry glanced at her, his expression unreadable behind the mask. For a moment, I thought he might actually listen.

The ground was cold and damp against my stomach as I lay down, the grass scratching at my skin. JJ was beside me, his hand never letting go of mine. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, so softly I almost didn’t hear it.

Barry turned around and crouched down, inspecting the van. “Now, let’s see what we’ve got here.”

He opened the back doors, rummaging through our stuff with the efficiency of someone who’d done this a hundred times before.

Barry’s grin widened as he took the bag, holding it up like a trophy. “See? Was that so hard?”

JJ’s grip on my hand tightened, and I could feel the anger rolling off him in waves.

As Barry turned back to his car, John B shifted slightly, his eyes darting to the gun Barry had left carelessly on the passenger seat. I knew that look.

“John B,” Sarah and I whispered, our voices barely audible.

But John B was already moving.

He sprang up, diving into Barry’s car and grabbing the gun. Barry spun around, cursing loudly as John B wrestled with him for control.

“Go!” JJ shouted, pulling me to my feet as chaos erupted around us.

John B managed to shove Barry out of the car, sending him sprawling onto the ground. Pope and Kie joined the fray, their fists flying as Barry’s goons tried to intervene.

JJ kept me in his arms the entire time, ready to pull me back from my kicks if Barry tried to hit back whilst JJ’s eyes dart between the fight and the road, calculating our next move.

When Barry finally sat up, his face bloody and his expression furious, he started to speak, but JJ didn’t give him the chance as he let me go and grabbed the gun fron John B.

The crack of the gun’s butt against Barry’s jaw was deafening, silencing everyone for a split second.

“JJ!” Kie yelled, her voice a mix of shock and fear.

But JJ didn’t flinch. He reached down, grabbing Barry’s wallet and pulling out his driver’s license.

“Let’s get out of here guys.” Pope said, flexing his hands from punching Barry.

“One last stop,” he said, his voice cold and unyielding. “Let’s go see where this son of a bitch lives.”

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

The Twinkie rolled to a stop outside Barry’s grimy trailer, the headlights cutting through the shadowy junkyard. The air felt heavy, charged with tension as we stared at the dilapidated house. Scrap metal and rusted car parts were strewn across the yard, and a broken porch light flickered ominously. It was like something out of a bad horror movie.

“Great,” Pope muttered, his voice thick with sarcasm. “Barry lives in a horror movie set.”

JJ ignored him, already halfway out of the van. He held up the wallet he’d snatched during the fight, flipping it open to reveal Barry’s driver’s license. “This is the address.”

“JJ, seriously,” Pope said, following him. “What are you planning to do? You’re gonna knock on the door and ask nicely for our gold back?”

“Not exactly,” JJ replied, his tone casual but his eyes sharp.

“Okay, so, what’s the plan?” Sarah asked, her voice a little shaky.

No one answered immediately. JJ was already halfway out of the van, his jaw set in determination.

“Uh, someone should probably…” Kie started, trailing off as she gestured toward JJ’s retreating figure.

“Yeah, got it,” John B and I said in unison, exchanging a quick glance before we scrambled out of the van to follow him.

The air felt thick and stifling as we entered the dark, grimy interior of Barry’s trailer. The smell hit me first—an acrid mix of stale beer, cigarettes, and something rotten. The place was a disaster: empty cans and bottles covered every surface, and the furniture looked like it hadn’t been cleaned in years.

JJ didn’t hesitate. He was already rifling through a drawer in the kitchenette, tossing junk aside as he searched.

“JJ, stop,” John B said firmly. “What the hell are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?” JJ snapped, pulling out a duffle bag filled with wads of cash.

“This is insane!” John B said, his voice rising. “Stealing money from a drug dealer? You think that’s a good idea?”

JJ slammed the drawer shut and turned to face him. “He stole from us first. Or did you forget that part?”

“This isn’t the way to fix it JJ!” I said, stepping forward. “You’re just making the whole situation worse.”

JJ’s gaze shifted to me, and his jaw tightened. “You wouldn’t understand, Y/n. You’ve never had to worry about this stuff. Everything’s handed to you on a gold platter.” His voice cracked slightly as his frustration boiled over. “You don’t know what it feels like to have the one thing you have slip right through your hands.”

His words hit me like a punch, but I forced myself to stay calm. “No, JJ, I don’t know what that’s like with money. I’ve never had to worry about that.” I stepped closer, my voice softening but firm. “But I’ve had you—all of you—almost slip through my hands way too many times, and I think that’s pretty damn close.”

For a second, his face faltered, and something unspoken flickered in his eyes. But then he turned away, focusing on the next drawer as if he hadn’t heard me.

My heart twisted painfully. I couldn’t stand there and watch him spiral anymore. “Fine, JJ. Do whatever you want,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Then I turned and walked out of the house.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

The night air felt cooler as I stepped outside, but it did nothing to ease the weight on my chest. The rest of the Pogues were waiting near the van, their faces etched with worry.

“What’s going on?” Pope asked as I approached.

I shook my head, crossing my arms tightly over my chest. “He’s not listening. He’s just—he’s so angry.”

“What’s he even doing in there?” Sarah asked.

“Stealing,” I said bitterly. “Because apparently that’s the solution to all our problems now.”

Pope’s jaw clenched, and Sarah exchanged a nervous glance with him.

“Do you think he’s okay?” Sarah asked, her voice hesitant.

“I don’t know,” I admitted. “But whatever he’s going through, he won’t let me—or anyone—help him.”

The sound of raised voices from inside the house made us all flinch. I could hear John B yelling something about Barry finding out and JJ snapping back something that probably shouldn’t be repeated.

“God,” I muttered, rubbing my temples.

“They’re gonna kill each other in there,” Pope said grimly.

I glanced at the house, torn between wanting to go back in and knowing it wouldn’t do any good. JJ’s words replayed in my head, sharp and cutting: You wouldn’t understand, Y/n. Everything’s handed to you on a gold platter.

I clenched my fists, digging my nails into my palms, willing the sting of tears to go away. He didn’t mean it—I knew that—but it didn’t make it hurt any less.

“Maybe we should just leave him,” Pope said, his voice laced with frustration. “Let him figure it out on his own.”

“No,” Kie said firmly, shaking her head. “We don’t leave each other. Not like this.”

Sarah gave me a supportive smile and rested her head on my shoulder, but the tension in the air remained heavy. We all stayed quiet, waiting for whatever was about to happen next.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

When they got back outside, the rest of the Pogues were waiting by the Twinkie, their faces a mix of confusion and concern.

“What the hell is this?” Pope asked, eyeing the bag JJ was carrying.

“It’s called payback,” JJ said, tossing the bag into the van.

“This isn’t what we signed up for,” Pope said, crossing his arms.

JJ whirled on him, his expression hard. “No, Pope, you didn’t sign up for anything. You just sit around and wait for the rest of us to handle it.”

“JJ, what?” Pope shot back.

“You’re acting like a psycho!” Kie shouted.

“No, I’m doing what has to be done,” JJ said, his voice rising.

John B groaned, running a hand through his hair. “What are you gonna do when Barry finds out? Huh? You think he’s just gonna let this slide?”

JJ shrugged, a smirk playing on his lips as he repeats my joke from before but he meant it now. “We punch him in the throat.”

“Yeah, great fucking idea, JJ,” John B said sarcastically, throwing his arms up. “Really solid plan.”

JJ glared at him and after a beat, “I’ll handle it.”

“Yeah, sure,” Pope said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Because you’re so good at thinking things through.”

JJ turned to me after asking everyone else if they’d join him, his eyes blazing. “What about you? You with me or not?”

I hesitated, my chest tightening. “No JJ, this isn’t a good idea. You’re just making it worse for yourself—for all of us.”

His expression darkened, and his voice dropped to a cold, sharp tone. “You know what? I don’t even want to talk to you right now.”

The words hit me like a slap, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Everyone else was quiet, the tension crackling in the air like static.

JJ’s eyes locked onto mine, his jaw tightening as he exclaimed, “Are you even with me? Or are you fucking Gray behind my back?”

My mouth fell open in shock. “What the fuck? JJ, that’s insane!”

“Oh, is it?” he snapped, his voice dripping with bitterness as he nodded.

“JJ, shut the fuck up,” John B said, stepping between us.

“Seriously, dude,” Kie added. “Do you even hear yourself right now?”

JJ’s gaze didn’t waver from mine, his chest rising and falling rapidly.

“Keep talking like that,” Sarah said, her voice firm, “and you’ll end up all by yourself, JJ.”

JJ’s eyes flickered, something soft and vulnerable breaking through for just a moment. But then the anger returned, and he stepped back, shaking his head. “Fine. I’ll go by myself.”

He grabbed the bag and turned away, pausing just long enough to glance at me. His eyes softened for the briefest second, and I saw something that looked like regret. But then it was gone, replaced by the same stubborn defiance.

I felt tears prick my eyes as he walked away, the weight of his words pressing down on me like a stone.

The rest of us stood in silence, watching him disappear into the night. The sound of the Twinkie’s door slamming echoed in the stillness, and I couldn’t shake the feeling.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

After the chaos at Barry’s house, we all regrouped at The Wreck, needing a neutral place to calm down and figure out our next move. The dimly lit diner felt oddly comforting as we slid into a booth at the back, away from prying eyes.

John B sat at the head of the table, his arms crossed and his face a mix of frustration and exhaustion. Pope fidgeted with the salt shaker, Sarah twirled her straw in her drink, and Kiara leaned back, her arms crossed as she shot annoyed glances toward the door.

JJ, of course, was absent.

“He’s not coming,” Pope said flatly, breaking the silence.

“How do you know?” Kiara asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Because it’s JJ,” Pope replied, his tone edged with annoyance. “He’s probably off somewhere, getting drunk or into more trouble.”

I stayed quiet, sipping my water and staring at the tabletop. I could still hear JJ’s voice in my head, accusing me, doubting me.

“He’ll show up,” John B said, though he didn’t sound entirely convinced.

Sarah nudged me gently. “You okay?”

I forced a small smile. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not,” she said quietly. “What happened back there?”

Before I could answer, Kiara chimed in. “He’s been like this for weeks. It’s like he’s on some self-destructive mission.”

“It’s not just him, though,” Pope said, slamming the salt shaker down. “We’re all risking everything, and for what? Gold we might never see?”

John B rubbed his face. “We’re not quitting now, Pope.”

“No one said anything about quitting,” Kiara said sharply. “But JJ’s spiraling, and if we don’t do something, he’s going to get himself killed or arrested or something.”

The conversation shifted into an argument, voices overlapping as everyone tried to make their point. I stayed silent, my thoughts focused solely on JJ.

“He doesn’t trust me,” I blurted out, cutting through the noise.

Everyone turned to look at me.

“What do you mean?” Sarah asked.

I hesitated, unsure how much to share. “He thinks I’m not with him. That I don’t understand what he’s going through.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Kiara said, frowning.

“Is it, though?” I said quietly. “I don’t know what it’s like to struggle like he does. I don’t know what it’s like to not have a safety net.”

“But you’re here,” Sarah said firmly. “You’ve always been here for him. Even when you weren’t like together together, I’d always see him getting water or a snack or something in our kitchen at night before going back up to your room after his dad…”

I nodded, but the weight in my chest didn’t lessen. “I know, I just… I don’t know if he believes that anymore.”

The table fell silent, the tension thick and suffocating.

“Look, we all love JJ,” John B said finally. “But he needs to work through this himself. We can’t fix him.”

“Maybe not,” I said softly. “But we can still be there for him.”

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

The Twinkie bounced along the dirt road, rattling with every bump, as Y/N, Kie, and Pope returned to the Chateau. The supplies they had packed tightly in the back rattled along with them, preparations for their next trip to the well. Their conversation had been lighthearted, filled with plans and jokes, but as they pulled into the driveway, all chatter came to an abrupt halt.

String lights dangled lazily from the trees, casting a warm glow against the deepening twilight. And in the middle of the yard, a hot tub stood bubbling and lit up like a Christmas tree, steam rising into the cool evening air. The sight was absurd—almost comical—except for the figure lounging in the steaming water with a beer in hand.

“Who the hell is that?” Pope asked, squinting through the windshield as the Twinkie rolled to a stop.

“Better question,” Kie added, her tone sharp, “where did that come from?”

Y/N stepped out first, cautious but curious. The others followed as they moved closer, their pace hesitant. The figure in the hot tub turned toward them, his unsteady grin illuminated by the string lights.

“Guys!” JJ slurred, throwing his arms wide as though greeting long-lost friends. “You’re here! Perfect timing.”

“JJ?” Y/n’s voice was incredulous. “What is this?”

“Are you kidding me?” Pope exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air.

“Welcome to paradise!” JJ called out, grinning widely.

“JJ, what the actual hell?” Kiara demanded, storming up to the hot tub. “Where did you even get this?”

“Spent some of Barry’s cash,” JJ said nonchalantly, taking a sip of his beer.

“You what?” Pope yelled.

“Relax,” JJ said, waving him off. “I didn’t spend all of it. Actually no I did.”

“You bought a hot tub?” Pope’s voice rose in disbelief. “You could’ve paid off your restitution with that money!”

“Or given it to, I don’t know, literally any charity,” Kie added, her arms crossing as she shot JJ a withering glare.

JJ’s grin faltered, a flicker of frustration crossing his face. He waved a dismissive hand, the motion unsteady. “Oh, come on. Why are you guys always so serious? I didn’t do that because I got this for you. For our family.”

“JJ, be serious,” Kie pushed, her tone softening only slightly. “You could’ve gotten out from under Barry, from—”

“From what Kie?” JJ’s voice rose sharply. His expression twisted as he stumbled slightly, his grin fully gone now. “From my crap life? From Luke? What, you want me to donate it well I didn’t do that, alright?” JJ shouted, his voice cracking. “I didn’t pay off my restitution, and I didn’t donate it to some fucking charity. I got a hot tub for my friends—no, fuck that, I got a hot tub for my family! I didn’t get this for me! I got it for us! I got it for us because we deserve to have something good! Just one damn thing that’s ours!”

“JJ,” Y/N’s voice was quiet but insistent. She stepped forward, her heart racing as her eyes caught something beneath the glow of the lights. The bruises were stark against his skin, dark and angry splotches decorating his ribs and stomach. A lump formed in her throat as her mind pieced it together. “What happened?”

“Don’t.” JJ’s voice cracked, his hand shooting up in a defensive gesture. He pointed a trembling finger at her, his eyes glassy and defiant. “Don’t look at me like that. Don’t start with the pity, Y/n. I can’t take it. Not from you.”

Pope and Kie’s eyes followed Y/N’s, their own indignation morphing into concern as they registered the injuries.

“JJ,” Pope started, his voice unusually soft. “What happened? Did he…?”

“Shut up Pope,” JJ snapped, his voice rising. He ran a hand through his damp hair, the motion frantic. “It doesn’t matter, okay? I’m fine. I don’t need a lecture or… or your stupid looks. I need you guys to… to just get in the damn hot tub and be happy for once. Can you do that?”

Y/n’s heart broke as she watched him unravel. Without hesitation, she kicked off her shoes and climbed into the hot tub, the warm water soaking through her clothes instantly. She ignored the discomfort, her focus solely on JJ. She reached out and wrapped her arms around him, her touch gentle but firm.

For a moment, he resisted, his body stiff and unyielding. Then, as if a dam had broken, he collapsed into her embrace. His sobs were muffled against her shoulder, raw and unrestrained. “I can’t do it anymore,” he choked out, “I can’t go back there. I was about to… I was gonna kill him, Y/n. I swear to God, I can’t…”

“It’s okay,” Y/n murmured, running her fingers through his damp hair. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

Kie and Pope exchanged a look, their earlier irritation fully replaced with empathy. Without a word, they climbed into the hot tub, their clothes soaking immediately. They joined the embrace, their arms wrapping around JJ and Y/N. The bubbling water swirled around them as they clung to one another, a cocoon of warmth and solidarity in the cool night air.

JJ’s sobs eventually subsided, his breathing evening out as the comfort of his friends enveloped him. For a long time, none of them spoke, their shared grief and love filling the silence. The string lights swayed gently in the breeze, casting their soft glow over the four figures huddled together, holding on as if the world depended on it.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

Later that night, the Chateau was eerily quiet. Kie and Pope had gone home to give us some space, and John B was at Tannyhill with Sarah. I was sitting cross-legged on JJ's bed, finishing up some homework. The soft scratch of the pen on paper was the only sound until the bathroom door creaked open. I glanced up to see JJ shuffling in, wearing a loose T-shirt and sweats, but the bruises on his ribs were still visible beneath the fabric and his hair a wet, tangled mess.

“C’mere,” I said, setting her notebook aside and patting the edge of the bed and grabbing a hairdryer.

He groaned. “Do we have to?”

I rolled my eyes. “Sit down, Maybank.”

He sighed in defeat and sat down with a slight wince. I plugged the hairdryer in, her movements calm and methodical. I raked my fingers gently through his hair as I dried it, the strands puffing up under the warm air. When I pulled back to look, I couldn’t help but laugh at the golden halo.

“Don’t worry,” I teased. “It’ll calm down by morning.”

He tilted his head back to look at me, his blue eyes soft and filled with something I couldn’t quite name. “Thank you.”

I grinned. “For what? Fixing your hair?” I replied lightly, unplugging the dryer and setting it aside. But when I moved to stand, he reached out, his fingers wrapping around my wrist softly.

“No,” he said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “For always being there for me. Even when I treat you like that.”

I turned to face him fully, holding his face in my hands as he leaned in, closing his eyes. “Of course, JJ. I’ll always be here. But you’ve got to make it easier by trusting me. There’s nothing going on between me and Gray. You don’t need to doubt that.”

He nodded, guilt flashing across his face. “I know. I’m sorry, baby. I won’t doubt you again.”

“Good.” I kissed his forehead. “Now, let’s get some sleep.”

We curled up together on the bed, his arms tight around me. As his breathing slowed, he whispered, “I don’t want to go back to that house.” His voice cracked, and I felt my heart break all over again.

“You don’t have to, J,” I promised. “You can stay with me at Tannyhill or here with John B. Wherever you want.”

He pressed a kiss to my temple. “What would I do without you?”

I smiled, brushing my fingers through his hair. “Probably punching people in their throats.”

JJ let out a quiet laugh, the sound warm and genuine despite everything. He pulled back slightly, just enough to press a soft kiss to my lips. It was gentle, a silent thank you that words couldn’t fully express. When we broke apart, he nestled into the crook of my neck, his breath warm against my skin.

Y/n ran her fingers through his now fluffy hair, the scent of coconut and vanilla from her shampoo still lingering. As his breathing slowed and evened out, signalling that he’d fallen asleep, she gazed at him with all the love in her heart. Gently, she kissed the top of his head and whispered into the stillness of the room, “I love you, J.”

Her words hung in the air, unacknowledged but deeply true. She tightened her hold on him, determined to shield him from the world, if only for a little while longer.

𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔:･𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔: 𓆉°❀⋆.ೃ࿔

part seven done!!

and friday is taking so long to come, ive got a shit ton of homework and my philosophy teacher hasnt been in or set work online for 2 months so im defo failing mocks in february💖💖

taglist: @harryssideboobz @onelonelybitch @jeyramarie @snowtargaryen

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